* A Project Gutenberg Canada Ebook * This ebook is made available at no cost and with very few restrictions. These restrictions apply only if (1) you make a change in the ebook (other than alteration for different display devices), or (2) you are making commercial use of the ebook. If either of these conditions applies, please check gutenberg.ca/links/licence.html before proceeding. This work is in the Canadian public domain, but may be under copyright in some countries. If you live outside Canada, check your country's copyright laws. IF THE BOOK IS UNDER COPYRIGHT IN YOUR COUNTRY, DO NOT DOWNLOAD OR REDISTRIBUTE THIS FILE. Title: Fairies and Chimneys Author: Fyleman, Rose Amy (1877-1957) Illustrator: Anonymous Date of first publication: 1918 (United Kingdom) Place and date of edition used as base for this ebook: New York: George H. Doran Company. Copyright date given as 1920; no printing date given. Date first posted: 22 December 2008 Date last updated: 22 December 2008 Project Gutenberg Canada ebook #221 This ebook was produced by: David Edwards, David T. Jones & the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net This file was produced from images generously made available by the Internet Archive/American Libraries FAIRIES AND CHIMNEYS [Illustration: HE SAT UPON THE HIGHEST DROPS AND BOBBED ABOUT] FAIRIES AND CHIMNEYS BY ROSE FYLEMAN NEW YORK GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY COPYRIGHT, 1920. BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA TO THE _REALEST_ FAIRY OF MY CHILDHOOD MY MOTHER CONTENTS I FAIRIES AND CHIMNEYS PAGE FAIRIES 13 YESTERDAY N OXFORD STREET 15 A FAIRY WENT A-MARKETING 18 I STOOD AGAINST THE WINDOW 20 THE FOUNTAIN 21 THE BEST GAME THE FAIRIES PLAY 22 HAVE YOU WATCHED THE FAIRIES? 23 THE CHILD NEXT DOOR 24 DIFFERENCES 25 MOTHER 27 GROWN-UPS 29 CAT'S CRADLE 30 VISITORS 31 WISHES 33 THE BALLOON MAN 34 I DON'T LIKE BEETLES 35 VERY LOVELY 36 SUMMER MORNING 37 FAIRY SONG 39 INVITATION 40 FAIRIES AND CHIMNEYS 42 WHITE MAGIC 43 THERE USED TO BE-- 45 IF 47 THE FAIRIES HAVE NEVER A PENNY TO SPEND 49 II BIRD LORE PEACOCKS 53 THE CUCKOO 54 THE ROOKS 55 THE ROBIN 56 THE COCK 58 THE GROUSE 59 THE SKYLARK 61 FAIRIES AND CHIMNEYS FAIRIES There are fairies at the bottom of our garden! It's not so very, very far away; You pass the gardener's shed and you just keep straight ahead-- I do so hope they've really come to stay. There's a little wood, with moss in it and beetles, And a little stream that quietly runs through; You wouldn't think they'd dare to come merry-making there-- Well, they do. There are fairies at the bottom of our garden! They often have a dance on summer nights; The butterflies and bees make a lovely little breeze, And the rabbits stand about and hold the lights. Did you know that they could sit upon the moon-beams And pick a little star to make a fan, And dance away up there in the middle of the air? Well, they can. There are fairies at the bottom of our garden! You cannot think how beautiful they are; They all stand up and sing when the Fairy Queen and King Come gently floating down upon their car. The King is very proud and _very_ handsome; The Queen--now can you guess who that could be (She's a little girl all day, but at night she steals away)? Well--it's ME! YESTERDAY IN OXFORD STREET Yesterday in Oxford Street, oh, what d'you think, my dears? I had the most exciting time I've had for years and years; The buildings looked so straight and tall, the sky was blue between, And, riding on a motor-bus, I saw the fairy queen! Sitting there upon the rail and bobbing up and down, The sun was shining on her wings and on her golden crown; And looking at the shops she was, the pretty silks and lace-- She seemed to think that Oxford Street was quite a lovely place. And once she turned and looked at me, and waved her little hand; But I could only stare and stare--oh, would she understand? I simply couldn't speak at all, I simply couldn't stir, And all the rest of Oxford Street was just a shining blur. Then suddenly she shook her wings--a bird had fluttered by-- And down into the street she looked and up into the sky; And perching on the railing on a tiny fairy toe, She flashed away so quickly that I hardly saw her go. I never saw her any more, altho' I looked all day; Perhaps she only came to peep, and never meant to stay: But oh, my dears, just think of it, just think what luck for me, That she should come to Oxford Street, and I be there to see! A FAIRY WENT A-MARKETING A Fairy went a-marketing-- She bought a little fish; She put it in a crystal bowl Upon a golden dish. An hour she sat in wonderment And watched its silver gleam, And then she gently took it up And slipped it in a stream. A fairy went a-marketing-- She bought a coloured bird; It sang the sweetest, shrillest song That ever she had heard. She sat beside its painted cage And listened half the day, And then she opened wide the door And let it fly away. A fairy went a-marketing-- She bought a winter gown All stitched about with gossamer And lined with thistledown. She wore it all afternoon With prancing and delight, Then gave it to a little frog To keep him warm at night. A fairy went a-marketing-- She bought a gentle mouse To take her tiny messages, To keep her tiny house. All day she kept its busy feet Pit-patting to and fro, And then she kissed its silken ears, Thanked it, and let it go. I STOOD AGAINST THE WINDOW I stood against the window And looked between the bars, And there were strings of fairies Hanging from the stars; Everywhere and everywhere In shining, swinging chains; The air was full of shimmering, Like sunlight when it rains. They kept on swinging, swinging, They flung themselves so high They caught upon the pointed moon And hung across the sky. And when I woke next morning, There still were crowds and crowds In beautiful bright bunches All sleeping on the clouds. THE FOUNTAIN Upon the terrace where I play A little fountain sings all day A tiny tune; It leaps and prances in the air-- I saw a little fairy there This afternoon. The jumping fountain never stops-- He sat upon the highest drops And bobbed about; His legs were waving in the sun, He seemed to think it splendid fun-- I heard him shout. The sparrows watched him from a tree, A robin bustled up to see Along the path; I thought my wishing-bone would break, I wished so much that I could take A fairy bath. THE BEST GAME THE FAIRIES PLAY The best game the fairies play, The best game of all, Is sliding down steeples-- (You know they're very tall). You fly to the weathercock, And when you hear it crow You fold your wings and clutch your things And then let go! They have a million other games-- Cloud-catching's one, And mud-mixing after rain Is heaps and heaps of fun; But when you go and stay with them Never mind the rest, Take my advice--they're very nice, But steeple-sliding's best! HAVE YOU WATCHED THE FAIRIES? Have you watched the fairies when the rain is done Spreading out their little wings to dry them in the sun? I have, I have! Isn't it fun? Have you heard the fairies all among the limes Singing little fairy tunes to little fairy rhymes? I have, I have, lots and lots of times! Have you seen the fairies dancing in the air, And dashing off behind the stars to tidy up their hair? I have, I have; I've been there! THE CHILD NEXT DOOR The child next door has a wreath on her hat, Her afternoon frock sticks out like that, All soft and frilly; She doesn't believe in fairies at all (She told me over the garden wall)-- She thinks they're silly. The child next door has a watch of her own, She has shiny hair and her name is Joan (Mine's only Mary), But doesn't it seem very sad to you To think that she never her whole life through Has seen a fairy? DIFFERENCES Daddy goes a-riding in a motor painted grey, He makes a lot of snorty noise before he gets away; The fairies go a-riding when they wish to take their ease, The fairies go a-riding on the backs of bumble-bees. Daddy goes a-sailing in a jolly wooden boat, He takes a lot of tackle and his very oldest coat; The fairies go a-sailing, and I wonder they get home, The fairies go a-sailing on a little scrap of foam. Daddy goes a-climbing with a knapsack and a stick, The rocks are very hard and steep, his boots are very thick; But the fairies go a-climbing (I've seen them there in crowds), The fairies go a-climbing on the mountains in the clouds. MOTHER When mother comes each morning She wears her oldest things, She doesn't make a rustle, She hasn't any rings; She says, "Good-morning, chickies, It's such a lovely day, Let's go into the garden And have a game of play!" When mother comes at tea-time Her dress goes shoo-shoo-shoo, She always has a little bag, Sometimes a sunshade too; She says, "I am so hoping There's something left for me; Please hurry up, dear Nanna, I'm dying for my tea." When mother comes at bed-time Her evening dress she wears, She tells us each a story When we have said our prayers; And if there is a party She looks so shiny bright It's like a lovely fairy Dropped in to say good-night. GROWN-UPS Aunties know all about fairies, Uncles know all about guns, Mothers and fathers think all the day long Of making their children happy and strong, Even the littlest ones. CAT'S CRADLE Although it has a jolly name Cat's cradle is a funny game-- I like to play it all the same. It's easy when you first begin, But when it goes all long and thin I daren't put my fingers in. If mother's anywhere about We stand against the door and shout Until she comes and helps us out. Her fingers look so long and white, Her rings are very sparkly bright, She almost always gets it right. VISITORS When I was very ill in bed The fairies came to visit me; They danced and played around my head, Tho' other people couldn't see. Across the end a railing goes With bars and balls and twisted rings, And there they jiggled on their toes And did the wonderfullest things. They balanced on the golden balls, They jumped about from bar to bar, And then they fluttered to the walls Where coloured birds and flowers are. I watched them darting in and out, I watched them gaily climb and cling, While all the flowers moved about And all the birds began to sing. And when it was no longer light I felt them up my pillows creep, And there they sat and sang all night-- I heard them singing in my sleep. WISHES I wish I liked rice pudding, I wish I were a twin, I wish some day a real live fairy Would just come walking in. I wish when I'm at table My feet would touch the floor, I wish our pipes would burst next winter, Just like they did next door. I wish that I could whistle Real proper grown-up tunes, I wish they'd let me sweep the chimneys On rainy afternoons. I've got such heaps of wishes, I've only said a few; I wish that I could wake some morning And find they'd all come true! THE BALLOON MAN He always comes on market days, And holds balloons--a lovely bunch-- And in the market square he stays, And never seems to think of lunch. They're red and purple, blue and green, And when it is a sunny day Tho' carts and people get between You see them shining far away. And some are big and some are small, All tied together with a string, And if there is a wind at all They tug and tug like anything. Some day perhaps he'll let them go And we shall see them sailing high, And stand and watch them from below-- They _would_ look pretty in the sky! I DON'T LIKE BEETLES I don't like beetles, tho' I'm sure they're very good, I don't like porridge, tho' my Nanna says I should; I don't like the cistern in the attic where I play, And the funny noise the bath makes when the water runs away. I don't like the feeling when my gloves are made of silk, And that dreadful slimy skinny stuff on top of hot milk; I don't like tigers, not even in a book, And, I know it's very naughty, but I don't like Cook! VERY LOVELY Wouldn't it be lovely if the rain came down Till the water was quite high over all the town? If the cabs and buses all were set afloat, And we had to go to school in a little boat? Wouldn't it be lovely if it still should pour And we all went up to live on the second floor? If we saw the butcher sailing up the hill, And we took the letters in at the window sill? It's been raining, raining, all the afternoon; All these things might happen really very soon. If we woke to-morrow and found they had begun, Wouldn't it be glorious? _Wouldn't_ it be fun? SUMMER MORNING The air around was trembling-bright And full of dancing specks of light, While butterflies were dancing too Between the shining green and blue. I might not watch, I might not stay, I ran along the meadow way. The straggling brambles caught my feet, The clover field was, oh! so sweet; I heard a singing in the sky, And busy things went buzzing by; And how it came I cannot tell, But all the hedges sang as well. Along the clover-field I ran To where the little wood began, And there I understood at last Why I had come so far, so fast-- On every leaf of every tree A fairy sat and smiled at me! FAIRY SONG Dance, little friend, little friend breeze, Low among the hedgerows, high among the trees; Fairy partners wait for you, oh, do not miss your chance, Dance, little friend, dance! Sing, little friend, little friend stream, Softly through the mossy nooks where fairies lie and dream; Sweetly by the rushes where fairies sway and swing, Sing, little friend, sing! Shine, little friend, little friend moon, The fairies will have gathered in the forest very soon; Send your gleaming silver darts where thick the branches twine, Shine, little friend, shine! INVITATION If you will come and stay with us You shall not want for ease; We'll swing you on a cobweb Between the forest trees. And twenty little singing birds Upon a flowering thorn Shall hush you every evening And wake you every morn. If you will come and stay with us You need not miss your school, A learned toad shall teach you, High-perched upon his stool. And he will tell you many things That none but fairies know-- The way the wind goes wandering, And how the daisies grow. If you will come and stay with us You shall not lack, my dear, The finest fairy raiment, The best of fairy cheer. We'll send a million glow-worms out, And slender chains of light Shall make a shining pathway-- Then why not come to-night? FAIRIES AND CHIMNEYS You know the smoke from chimneys-- It often isn't smoke, It's nothing but the fairies Having such a joke. Round they fly and round about, Higher still and higher-- "Dearie me," the people say, "A chimney on fire!" You know the noise the wind makes At night-time now and then-- It's just those naughty fairies At their tricks again-- Sitting in the chimney Round and round in rows, Singing all together And warming up their toes. WHITE MAGIC Blind folk see the fairies, Oh, better far than we, Who miss the shining of their wings Because our eyes are filled with things We do not wish to see. They need not seek enchantment From solemn, printed books, For all about them as they go The fairies flutter to and fro With smiling, friendly looks. Deaf folk hear the fairies However soft their song; 'Tis we who lose the honey sound Amid the clamour all around That beats the whole day long. But they with gentle faces Sit quietly apart; What room have they for sorrowing While fairy minstrels sit and sing Close to their listening heart? THERE USED TO BE---- There used to be fairies in Germany-- I know, for I've seen them there In a great cool wood where the tall trees stood With their heads high up in the air; They scrambled about in the forest And nobody seemed to mind; They were dear little things (tho' they didn't have wings) And they smiled and their eyes were kind. What, and oh what were they doing To let things like this? How could it be? And didn't they see That folk were going amiss? Were they too busy playing, Or can they perhaps have slept, That never they heard an ominous word That stealthily crept and crept? There used to be fairies in Germany-- The children will look for them still; They will search all about till the sunlight slips out And the trees stand frowning and chill. "The flowers," they will say, "have all vanished, And where can the fairies be fled That played in the fern?"--The flowers will return, But I fear that the fairies are dead. IF If I were a bird with a dear little nest I should always be going for flights, I'd fly to the North and the South and the West And see all the wonderful sights. I'd perch on the point of the very tall spires, And race with the insects and bees, And there would be parties on telegraph wires, And school at the top of the trees. If I were a fairy and lived in a flower, What fun, oh, what fun it would be! I'm certain I never should sleep for an hour, And I'd always have honey for tea; And never a stocking or shoe would I wear, Nor ever a hat on my head, And no one would tell me to tidy my hair, And no one would send me to bed. If I were a duchess in satin and pearls, I'd curtsey like this and like this; I'd graciously smile at the lords and the earls, And give them my fingers to kiss. And mother should dress all in silver and pink, And daddy in silver and green, And off we should go in a coach, only think, To live with the King and the Queen! THE FAIRIES HAVE NEVER A PENNY TO SPEND The fairies have never a penny to spend, They haven't a thing put by, But theirs is the dower of bird and of flower And theirs are the earth and the sky. And though you should live in a palace of gold Or sleep in a dried-up ditch, You could never be poor as the fairies are, And never as rich. Since ever and ever the world began They have danced like a ribbon of flame, They have sung their song through the centuries long And yet it is never the same. And though you be foolish or though you be wise, With hair of silver or gold, You could never be young as the fairies are, And never as old. BIRD LORE PEACOCKS Peacocks sweep the fairies' rooms; They use their folded tails for brooms; But fairy dust is brighter far Than any mortal colours are; And all about their tails it clings In strange designs of rounds and rings; And that is why they strut about And proudly spread their feathers out. THE CUCKOO The cuckoo is a tell-tale, A mischief-making bird; He flies to East, he flies to West And whispers into every nest The wicked things he's heard; He loves to spread his naughty lies, He laughs about it as he flies; "Cuckoo," he cries, "cuckoo, cuckoo, It's true, it's true." And when the fairies catch him His busy wings they dock, They shut him up for evermore (He may not go beyond the door) Inside a wooden clock; Inside a wooden clock he cowers And has to tell the proper hours-- "Cuckoo," he cries, "cuckoo, cuckoo, It's true, it's true." THE ROOKS High in the elm-trees sit the rooks, Or flit about with busy looks And solemn, ceaseless caws. Small wonder they are so intent, They are the fairies' Parliament-- They make the fairy laws. They never seem to stop all day, And you can hear from far away Their busy chatter-chat. They work so very hard indeed You'd wonder that the fairies need So many laws as that. THE ROBIN The robin is the fairies' page; They keep him neatly dressed For country service or for town In dapper livery of brown And little scarlet vest. On busy errands all day long He hurries to and fro With watchful eyes and nimble wings-- There are not very many things, The robin doesn't know. And he can tell you, if he will, The latest fairy news; The quaint adventures of the King, And whom the Queen is visiting, And where she gets her shoes. And lately, when the fairy Court Invited me to tea, He stood behind the Royal Chair; And here, I solemnly declare, When he discovered I was there, That robin _winked_ at me. THE COCK The kindly cock is the fairies' friend, He warns them when their revels must end; He never forgets to give the word, For the cock is a thoroughly punctual bird. And since he grieves that he never can fly, Like all the other birds, up in the sky, The fairies put him now and again High on a church for a weather-vane, Little for sun or for rain he cares; He turns about with the proudest airs And chuckles with joy as the clouds go past To think he is up in the sky at last. THE GROUSE The grouse that lives on the moorland wide Is filled with a most ridiculous pride; He thinks that it all belongs to him And every one else must obey his whim. When the queer wee folk who live on the moors Come joyfully leaping out of their doors To frisk about on the warm sweet heather Laughing and chattering all together, He looks askance at their rollicking play And calls to them in the angriest way: "You're a feather-brained, foolish, frivolous pack, Go back, you rascally imps, go back!" But little enough they heed his shout; Over the rocks they tumble about; They chase each other over the ling; They kick their heels in the heather and sing; "Oho, Mr. Grouse, you'd best beware Or some fine day, if you don't take care, The witch who lives in the big brown bog With a wise old weasel, a rat and a frog, Will come a-capering over the fell And put you under a horrible spell; Your feathers will moult and your voice will crack-- Go back, you silly old bird, go back!" THE SKYLARK Of all the birds the fairies love the skylark much the best; They come with little fairy gifts to seek his hidden nest; They praise his tiny slender feet and silken suit of brown, And with their gentle hands they smooth his feathers softly down. They cluster round with glowing cheeks and bright expectant eyes, Waiting the moment that shall bring the freedom of the skies; Waiting the double-sweet delight that only he can give, (Oh, Kings might surely spurn their crowns to live as fairies live). To ride upon a skylark's back between his happy wings, To float upon the edge of heaven and listen while he sings-- The dreams of mortals scarce can touch so perfected a bliss, And even fairies cannot know a greater joy than this. [End of _Fairies and Chimneys_ by Rose Fyleman]