Ting a ling
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Frank Richard Stockton >> Ting a ling
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TING-A-LING
by
FRANK R. STOCKTON.
Illustrated by E. B. Bensell
[Illustration]
New York.
Charles Scribner's Sons.
1921
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1869,
by Frank R. Stockton,
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Eastern District of
Pennsylvania.
Copyright, 1882,
by Charles Scribner's Sons.
Copyright, 1910,
by William S. Stockton.
TO THE
MEMORY OF ALL
GOOD GIANTS, DWARFS, AND FAIRIES
This Book
_IS GRATEFULLY DEDICATED_.
TING-A-LING.
In a far country of the East, in a palace surrounded by orange groves,
where the nightingales sang, and by silvery lakes, where the soft
fountains plashed, there lived a fine old king. For many years he had
governed with great comfort to himself, and to the tolerable
satisfaction of his subjects. His queen being dead, his whole affection
was given to his only child, the Princess Aufalia; and, whenever he
happened to think of it, he paid great attention to her education. She
had the best masters of embroidery and in the language of flowers, and
she took lessons on the zithar three times a week.
A suitable husband, the son of a neighboring monarch, had been selected
for her when she was about two hours old, thus making it unnecessary for
her to go into society, and she consequently passed her youthful days in
almost entire seclusion. She was now, when our story begins, a woman
more beautiful than the roses of the garden, more musical than the
nightingales, and far more graceful than the plashing fountains.
One balmy day in spring, when the birds were singing lively songs on the
trees, and the crocuses were coaxing the jonquils almost off their very
stems with their pretty ways, Aufalia went out to take a little
promenade, followed by two grim slaves. Closely veiled, she walked in
the secluded suburbs of the town, where she was generally required to
take her lonely exercise. To-day, however, the slaves, impelled by a
sweet tooth, which each of them possessed, thought it would be no harm
if they went a little out of their way to procure some sugared
cream-beans, which were made excellently well by a confectioner near the
outskirts of the city. While they were in the shop, bargaining for the
sugar-beans, a young man who was passing thereby stepped up to the
Princess, and asked her if she could tell him the shortest road to the
baths, and if there was a good eating-house in the neighborhood. Now as
this was the first time in her life that the Princess had been addressed
by a young man, it is not surprising that she was too much astonished to
speak, especially as this youth was well dressed, extremely handsome,
and of proud and dignified manners,--although, to be sure, a little
travel-stained and tired-looking.
[Illustration]
When she had somewhat recovered from her embarrassment, she raised her
veil, (as if it was necessary to do so in speaking to a young man!) and
told him that she was sure she had not the slightest idea where any
place in the city was,--that she very seldom went into the city, and
never thought about the way to any place when she did go,--that she
wished she knew where those places were that he mentioned, for she would
very much like to tell him, especially if he was hungry, which she knew
was not pleasant, and no doubt he was not used to it, but that indeed
she hadn't any idea about the way anywhere, but--
There is no knowing how long the Princess might have run on thus (and
her veil up all the time) had not the two slaves at that moment emerged
from the sugar-bean shop. The sight of the Princess actually talking to
a young man in the broad daylight so amazed them, that they stood for a
moment dumb in the door. But, recovering from their surprise, they drew
their cimeters, and ran toward the Prince (for such his every action
proclaimed him to be). When this high-born personage saw them coming
with drawn blades, his countenance flushed, and his eyes sparkled with
rage. Drawing his flashing sword, he shouted, "Crouch, varlets! Lie with
the dust, ye dogs!" and sprang furiously upon them.
[Illustration]
The impetuosity of the onslaught caused the two men to pause, and in a
few minutes they fell back some yards, so fast and heavy did the long
sword clash upon their upraised cimeters. This contest was soon over,
for, unaccustomed to such a vigorous method of attack, the slaves turned
and fled, and the Prince pursued them down a long street, and up an
alley, and over a wall, and through a garden, and under an arch, and
over a court-yard, and through a gate, and down another street, and up
another alley, and through a house, and up a long staircase, and out
upon a roof, and over several abutments, and down a trap-door, and down
another pair of stairs, and through another house, into another garden,
and over another wall, and down a long road, and over a field, clear out
of sight.
When the Prince had performed this feat, he sat down to rest, but,
suddenly bethinking himself of the maiden, he rose and went to look for
her.
"I have chased away her servants," said he; "how will she ever find her
way anywhere?"
If this was difficult for her, the Prince found that it was no less so
for himself; and he spent much time in endeavoring to reach again the
northern suburbs of the city. At last, after considerable walking, he
reached the long street into which he had first chased the slaves, and,
finding a line of children eagerly devouring a line of sugared
cream-beans, he remembered seeing these confections dropping from the
pockets of the slaves as he pursued them, and, following up the clew,
soon reached the shop, and found the Princess sitting under a tree
before the door. The shop-keeper, knowing her to be the Princess, had
been afraid to speak to her, and was working away inside, making believe
that he had not seen her, and that he knew nothing of the conflict which
had taken place before his door.
[Illustration]
Up jumped Aufalia. "O! I am so glad to see you again! I have been
waiting here ever so long. But what have you done with my slaves?"
"I am your slave," said the Prince, bowing to the ground.
"But you don't know the way home," said she, "and I am dreadfully
hungry."
Having ascertained from her that she was the King's daughter, and lived
at the palace, the Prince reflected for a moment, and then, entering the
shop, dragged forth the maker of sugared cream-beans, and ordered him to
lead the way to the presence of the King. The confectioner, crouching to
the earth, immediately started off, and the Prince and Princess, side by
side, followed over what seemed to them a very short road to the palace.
The Princess talked a great deal, but the Prince was rather quiet. He
had a good many things to think about. He was the younger son of a king
who lived far away to the north, and had been obliged to flee the
kingdom on account of the custom of allowing only one full-grown heir to
the throne to live in the country.
"Now," thought he, "this is an excellent commencement of my adventures.
Here is a truly lovely Princess whom I am conducting to her anxious
parent. He will be overwhelmed with gratitude, and will doubtless bestow
upon me the government of a province--or--perhaps he will make me his
Vizier--no, I will not accept that,--the province will suit me better."
Having settled this little matter to his mind, he gladdened the heart of
the Princess with the dulcet tones of his gentle voice.
On reaching the palace, they went directly to the grand hall, where the
King was giving audience. Justly astounded at perceiving his daughter
(now veiled) approaching under the guidance of a crouching sugar-bean
maker and a strange young man, he sat in silent amazement, until the
Prince, who was used to court life, had made his manners, and related
his story. When the King had heard it, he clapped his hands three times,
and in rushed twenty-four eunuchs.
"Take," said the monarch, "this bird to her bower." And they surrounded
the Princess, and hurried her off to the women's apartments.
Then he clapped his hands twice, and in rushed twenty-four armed guards
from another door.
"Bind me this dog!" quoth the King, pointing to the Prince. And they
bound him in a twinkling.
"Is this the way you treat a stranger?" cried the Prince.
"Aye," said the King, merrily. "We will treat you royally. You are
tired. To-night and to-morrow you shall be lodged and feasted daintily
and the day after we will have a celebration, when you shall be beaten
with sticks, and shall fight a tiger, and be tossed by a bull, and be
bowstrung, and beheaded, and drawn and quartered, and we will have a
nice time. Bear him away to his soft couch."
[Illustration]
The guards then led the Prince away to be kept a prisoner until the day
for the celebration. The room to which he was conducted was comfortable,
and he soon had a plenteous supper laid out before him, of which he
partook with great avidity. Having finished his meal, he sat down to
reflect upon his condition, but feeling very sleepy, and remembering
that he would have a whole day of leisure, to-morrow, for such
reflections, he concluded to go to bed. Before doing so, however, he
wished to make all secure for the night. Examining the door, he found
there was no lock to it; and being unwilling to remain all night liable
to intrusion, he pondered the matter for some minutes, and then took up
a wide and very heavy stool, and, having partially opened the door, he
put the stool up over it, resting it partly on the door and partly on
the surrounding woodwork, so that if any one tried to come in, and
pushed the door open, the stool would fall down and knock the intruder's
head off. Having arranged this to his satisfaction, the Prince went to
bed.
That evening the Princess Aufalia was in great grief, for she had heard
of the sentence pronounced upon the Prince, and felt herself the cause
of it. What other reason she had to grieve over the Prince's death, need
not be told. Her handmaidens fully sympathized with her; and one of
them, Nerralina, the handsomest and most energetic of them all, soon
found, by proper inquiry, that the Prince was confined in the fourth
story of the "Tower of Tears." So they devised a scheme for his rescue.
Each one of the young ladies contributed her scarf; and when they were
all tied together, the conclave decided that they made a rope plenty
long enough to reach from the Prince's window to the ground.
Thus much settled, it only remained to get this means of escape to the
prisoner. This the lady Nerralina volunteered to do. Waiting until the
dead of night, she took off her slippers, and with the scarf-rope rolled
up into a ball under her arm, she silently stepped past the drowsy
sentinels, and, reaching the Prince's room, pushed open the door, and
the stool fell down and knocked her head off. Her body lay in the
doorway, but her head rolled into the middle of the room.
Notwithstanding the noise occasioned by this accident, the Prince did
not awake; but in the morning, when he was up and nearly dressed, he was
astonished at seeing a lady's head in the middle of the room.
[Illustration]
"Hallo!" said he. "Here's somebody's head."
Picking it up, he regarded it with considerable interest. Then seeing
the body in the doorway, he put the head and it together, and, finding
they fitted, came to the conclusion that they belonged to each other,
and that the stool had done the mischief. When he saw the bundle of
scarfs lying by the body, he unrolled it, and soon imagined the cause of
the lady's visit.
"Poor thing!" he said; "doubtless the Princess sent her here with this,
and most likely with a message also, which now I shall never hear. But
these poor women! what do they know? This rope will not bear a man like
me. Well! well! this poor girl is dead. I will pay respect to her."
And so he picked her up, and put her on his bed, thinking at the time
that she must have fainted when she heard the stool coming, for no blood
had flowed. He fitted on the head, and then he covered her up with the
sheet; but, in pulling this over her head, he uncovered her feet, which
he now perceived to be slipperless.
[Illustration]
"No shoes! Ah me! Well, I will be polite to a lady, even if she is
dead."
And so he drew off his own yellow boots, and put them on her feet, which
was easy enough, as they were a little too big for her. He had hardly
done this, and dressed himself, when he heard some one approaching; and
hastily removing the fallen stool, he got behind the door just as a fat
old fellow entered with a broadsword in one hand, and a pitcher of hot
water and some towels in the other. Glancing at the bed, and seeing the
yellow boots sticking out, the old fellow muttered: "Gone to bed with his
clothes on, eh? Well, I'll let him sleep!" And so, putting down the
pitcher and the towels, he walked out again. But not alone, for the
Prince silently stepped after him, and by keeping close behind him,
followed without being heard,--his politeness having been the fortunate
cause of his being in his stocking-feet. For some distance they walked
together thus, the Prince intending to slip off at the first cross
passage he came to. It was quite dusky in the long hall way, there being
no windows; and when the guard, at a certain place, made a very wide
step, taking hold of a rod by the side of the wall as he did so, the
Prince, not perceiving this, walked straight on, and popped right down
an open trap-door.
Nerralina not returning, the Princess was in great grief, not knowing at
first whether she had eloped with the Prince, or had met with some
misfortune on the way to his room. In the morning, however, the ladies
ascertained that the rope was not hanging from the Prince's window, and
as the guards reported that he was comfortably sleeping in his bed, it
was unanimously concluded that Nerralina had been discovered in her
attempt, and had come to grief. Sorrowing bitterly, somewhat for the
unknown mishap of her maid of honor, but still more for the now certain
fate of him she loved, Aufalia went into the garden, and, making her way
through masses of rose-trees and jasmines, to the most secluded part of
the grounds, threw herself upon a violet bank and wept unrestrainedly,
the tears rolling one by one from her eyes, like a continuous string of
pearls.
Now it so happened that this spot was the pleasure ground of a company
of fairies, who had a colony near by. These fairies were about an inch
and a half high, beautifully formed, and of the most respectable class.
They had not been molested for years by any one coming to this spot; but
as they knew perfectly well who the Princess was, they were not at all
alarmed at her appearance. In fact, the sight of her tears rolling so
prettily down into the violet cups, and over the green leaves, seemed to
please them much, and many of the younger ones took up a tear or two
upon their shoulders to take home with them.
There was one youth, the handsomest of them all, named Ting-a-ling, who
had a beautiful little sweetheart called Ling-a-ting.
Each one of these lovers, when they were about to return to their homes,
picked up the prettiest tear they could find. Ting-a-ling put his tear
upon his shoulder, and walked along as gracefully as an Egyptian woman
with her water-jug; while little Ling-a-ting, with her treasure borne
lightly over her head, skipped by her lover's side, as happy as happy
could be.
"Don't walk out in the sun, my dearest," said Ting-a-ling. "Your
shin-shiney will burst."
"Burst! O no, Tingy darling, no it won't. See how nice and big it is
getting, and so light! Look!" cried she, throwing back her head; "I can
see the sky through it; and O! what pretty colors,--blue, green, pink,
and"--And the tear burst, and poor little Ling-a-ting sunk down on the
grass, drenched and drowned.
Horror-stricken, Ting-a-ling dropped his tear and wept. Clasping his
hands above his head, he fell on his knees beside his dear one, and
raised his eyes to the blue sky in bitter anguish. But when he cast them
down again, little Ling-a-ting was all soaked into the grass. Then
sterner feelings filled his breast, and revenge stirred up the depths of
his soul.
"This thing shall end!" he said, hissing the words between his teeth.
"No more of us shall die like Ling-a-ting!"
So he ran quickly, and with his little sword cut down two violets, and
of the petals he made two little soft bundles, and, tying them together
with his garters, he slung them over his shoulder. Full of his terrible
purpose, he then ran to the Princess, and, going behind her, clambered
up her dress until he stood on her shoulder, and, getting on the top of
her head, he loosened a long hair, and lowered himself down with it,
until he stood upon the under lashes of her left eye. Now, his intention
was evident. Those violet bundles were to "end this thing." They were to
be crammed into the source of those fatal tears, to the beauty of which
poor Ling-a-ting had fallen a victim.
"Now we shall see," said he, "if some things cannot be done as well as
others!" and, kneeling down, he took one bundle from his shoulder, and
prepared to put it in her eye. It is true, that, occupying the position
he did, he, in some measure, obstructed the lady's vision; but as her
eyes had been so long dimmed with tears, and her heart overshadowed with
sorrow, she did not notice it.
Just as Ting-a-ling was about to execute his purpose, he happened to
look before him, and saw, to his amazement, another little fairy on his
knees, right in front of him. Starting back, he dropped the bundle from
his hand, and the other from his shoulder. Then, upon his hands and
knees, he stared steadfastly at the little man opposite to him, who
immediately imitated him. And there they knelt with equal wonder in each
of their countenances, bobbing at each other every time the lady winked.
Then did Ting-a-ling get very red in the face, and, standing erect, he
took strong hold of the Princess's upper eyelash, to steady himself,
resolved upon giving that saucy fairy a good kick, when, to his dismay,
the eyelash came out, he lost his balance, and at the same moment a
fresh shower of tears burst from her eyes, which washed Ting-a-ling
senseless into her lap.
When he recovered, he was still sticking to the Princess's silk apron,
all unobserved, as she sat in her own room talking to one of her maids,
who had just returned from a long visit into the country. Slipping down
to the floor, Ting-a-ling ran all shivering to the window, to the seat
of which he climbed, and getting upon a chrysanthemum that was growing
in a flower-pot in the sunshine, he took off his shoes and stockings,
and, hanging them on a branch to dry, laid down in the warm blossom; and
while he was drying, listened to the mournful tale that Aufalia was
telling her maid, about the poor Prince that was to die to-morrow. The
more he heard, the more was his tender heart touched with pity, and,
forgetting all his resentment against the Princess, he felt only the
deepest sympathy for her misfortunes, and those of her lover. When she
had finished, Ting-a-ling had resolved to assist them, or die in the
attempt!
But, as he could not do much himself, he intended instantly to lay their
case before a Giant of his acquaintance, whose good-humor and
benevolence were proverbial. So he put on his shoes and stockings, which
were not quite dry, and hastily descended to the garden by means of a
vine which grew upon the wall. The distance to the Giant's castle was
too great for him to think of walking; and he hurried around to a friend
of his who kept a livery-stable. When he reached this place, he found
his friend sitting in his stable-door, and behind him Ting-a-ling could
see the long rows of stalls, with all the butterflies on one side, and
the grasshoppers on the other.
"How do you do?" said Ting-a-ling, seating himself upon a horse-block,
and wiping his face. "It is a hot day, isn't it?"
"Yes, sir," said the livery-stable man, who was rounder and shorter than
Ting-a-ling. "Yes, it is very warm. I haven't been out to-day."
"Well, I shouldn't advise you to go," said Ting-a-ling. "But I must to
business, for I'm in a great hurry. Have you a fast butterfly that you
can let me have right away?"
"O yes, two or three of them, for that matter."
"Have you that one," asked Ting-a-ling, "that I used to take out last
summer?"
"That animal," said the livery-stable man, rising and clasping his hands
under his coat-tail, "I am sorry to say, you can't have. He's
foundered."
"That's bad," said Ting-a-ling, "for I always liked him."
"I can let you have one just as fast," said the stable-keeper. "By the
way, how would you like a real good grasshopper?"
"Too hot a day for the saddle," said Ting-a-ling; "and now please
harness up, for I'm in a dreadful hurry."
"Yes, sir, right away. But I don't know exactly what wagon to give you.
I have two first-rate new pea-pods; but they are both out. However, I
can let you have a nice easy Johnny-jump-up, if you say so."
"Any thing will do," said Ting-a-ling, "only get it out quick."
In a very short time a butterfly was brought out, and harnessed to a
first-class Johnny-jump-up. The vehicles used by these fairies were
generally a cup-like blossom, or something of that nature, furnished,
instead of wheels, with little bags filled with a gas resembling that
used to inflate balloons. Thus the vehicle was sustained in the air,
while the steed drew it rapidly along.
As soon as Ting-a-ling heard the sound of the approaching equipage, he
stood upon the horse-block, and when the wagon was brought up to it, he
quickly jumped in and took the reins from the hostler. "Get up!" said
he, and away they went.
It was a long drive, and it was at least three in the afternoon when
Ting-a-ling reached the Giant's castle. Drawing up before the great
gates, he tied his animal to a hinge, and walked in himself under the
gate. Going boldly into the hall, he went up-stairs, or rather he ran up
the top rail of the banisters, for it would have been hard work for him
to have clambered up each separate step. As he expected, he found the
Giant (whose name I forgot to say was Tur-il-i-ra) in his dining-room.
He had just finished his dinner, and was sitting in his arm-chair by the
table, fast asleep. This Giant was about as large as two mammoths. It
was useless for Ting-a-ling to stand on the floor, and endeavor to make
himself heard above the roaring of the snoring, which sounded louder
than the thunders of a cataract. So, climbing upon one of the Giant's
boots, he ran up his leg, and hurried over the waistcoat so fast, that,
slipping on one of the brass buttons, he came down upon his knees with
great force.
"Whew!" said he, "that must have hurt him! after dinner too!"
Jumping up quickly, he ran easily over the bosom, and getting on his
shoulder, clambered up into his ear. Standing up in the opening of this
immense cavity, he took hold of one side with his outstretched arms, and
shouted with all his might,--
"_Tur_-il-i! _Tur_-il-i! _Tur_-il-i-RA!"
Startled at the noise, the Giant clapped his hand to his ear with such
force, that had not Ting-a-ling held on very tightly, he would have been
shot up against the tympanum of this mighty man.
"Don't do that again!" cried the little fellow. "Don't do that again!
It's only me--Ting-a-ling. Hold your finger."
Recognizing the voice of his young friend, the Giant held out his
forefinger, and Ting-a-ling, mounting it, was carried round before the
Giant's face, where he proceeded to relate the misfortunes of the two
lovers, in his most polished and affecting style.
The Giant listened with much attention, and when he had done, said,
"Ting-a-ling, I feel a great interest in all young people, and will do
what I can for this truly unfortunate couple. But I must finish my nap
first, otherwise I could not do anything. Please jump down on the table
and eat something, while I go to sleep for a little while."
So saying, he put Ting-a-ling gently down upon the table. But this young
gentleman, having a dainty appetite, did not see much that he thought he
would like; but, cutting a grain of rice in two, he ate the half of it,
and then laid down on a napkin and went to sleep.
When Tur-il-i-ra awoke, he remembered that it was time to be off, and,
waking Ting-a-ling, he took out his great purse, and placed the little
fairy in it, where he had very comfortable quarters, as there was no
money there to hurt him.
"Don't forget my wagon when you get to the gate," said Ting-a-ling,
sleepily, rolling himself up for a fresh nap, as the Giant closed the
purse with a snap. Tur-il-i-ra, having put on his hat, went down-stairs,
and crossed the court-yard in a very few steps. When he had closed the
great gates after him, he bethought himself of Ting-a-ling's turn-out,
which the fairy had mentioned as being tied to the hinge. Not being able
to see anything so minute at the distance of his eyes from the ground,
he put on his spectacles, and getting upon his hands and knees, peered
closely about the hinges.
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