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Nursery Rhymes . . . for children.

Once upon a time . . . . .  from our fabulous collection of Fairy Tales for children . . .  they lived happily ever after . . .

The Last Pearl

WE are in a rich, happy house, where the master, the
servants, the friends of the family are full of joy and
felicity. For on this day a son and heir has been born, and
mother and child are doing well. The lamp in the bed-chamber
had been partly shaded, and the windows were covered with
heavy curtains of some costly silken material. The carpet was
thick and soft, like a covering of moss. Everything invited to
slumber, everything had a charming look of repose; and so the
nurse had discovered, for she slept; and well she might sleep,
while everything around her told of happiness and blessing.
The guardian angel of the house leaned against the head of the
bed; while over the child was spread, as it were, a net of
shining stars, and each star was a pearl of happiness. All the
good stars of life had brought their gifts to the newly born;
here sparkled health, wealth, fortune, and love; in short,
there seemed to be everything for which man could wish on
earth.

'Everything has been bestowed here,' said the guardian
angel.

'No, not everything,' said a voice near him- the voice of
the good angel of the child; 'one fairy has not yet brought
her gift, but she will, even if years should elapse, she will
bring her gift; it is the last pearl that is wanting.'

'Wanting!' cried the guardian angel; 'nothing must be
wanting here; and if it is so, let us fetch it; let us seek
the powerful fairy; let us go to her.'

'She will come, she will come some day unsought!'

'Her pearl must not be missing; it must be there, that the
crown, when worn, may be complete. Where is she to be found?
Where does she dwell?' said the guardian angel. 'Tell me, and
I will procure the pearl.'

'Will you do that?' replied the good angel of the child.
'Then I will lead you to her directly, wherever she may be.
She has no abiding place; she rules in the palace of the
emperor, sometimes she enters the peasant's humble cot; she
passes no one without leaving a trace of her presence. She
brings her gift with her, whether it is a world or a bauble.
To this child she must come. You think that to wait for this
time would be long and useless. Well, then, let us go for this
pearl- the only one lacking amidst all this wealth.'

Then hand-in-hand they floated away to the spot where the
fairy was now lingering. It was in a large house with dark
windows and empty rooms, in which a peculiar stillness
reigned. A whole row of windows stood open, so that the rude
wind could enter at its pleasure, and the long white curtains
waved to and fro in the current of air. In the centre of one
of the rooms stood an open coffin, in which lay the body of a
woman, still in the bloom of youth and very beautiful. Fresh
roses were scattered over her. The delicate folded hands and
the noble face glorified in death by the solemn, earnest look,
which spoke of an entrance into a better world, were alone
visible. Around the coffin stood the husband and children, a
whole troop, the youngest in the father's arms. They were come
to take a last farewell look of their mother. The husband
kissed her hand, which now lay like a withered leaf, but which
a short time before had been diligently employed in deeds of
love for them all. Tears of sorrow rolled down their cheeks,
and fell in heavy drops on the floor, but not a word was
spoken. The silence which reigned here expressed a world of
grief. With silent steps, still sobbing, they left the room. A
burning light remained in the room, and a long, red wick rose
far above the flame, which fluttered in the draught of air.
Strange men came in and placed the lid of the coffin over the
dead, and drove the nails firmly in; while the blows of the
hammer resounded through the house, and echoed in the hearts
that were bleeding.

'Whither art thou leading me?' asked the guardian angel.
'Here dwells no fairy whose pearl could be counted amongst the
best gifts of life.'

'Yes, she is here; here in this sacred hour,' replied the
angel, pointing to a corner of the room; and there,- where in
her life-time, the mother had taken her seat amidst flowers
and pictures: in that spot, where she, like the blessed fairy
of the house, had welcomed husband, children, and friends,
and, like a sunbeam, had spread joy and cheerfulness around
her, the centre and heart of them all,- there, in that very
spot, sat a strange woman, clothed in long, flowing garments,
and occupying the place of the dead wife and mother. It was
the fairy, and her name was 'Sorrow.' A hot tear rolled into
her lap, and formed itself into a pearl, glowing with all the
colors of the rainbow. The angel seized it: the, pearl
glittered like a star with seven-fold radiance. The pearl of
Sorrow, the last, which must not be wanting, increases the
lustre, and explains the meaning of all the other pearls.

'Do you see the shimmer of the rainbow, which unites earth
to heaven?' So has there been a bridge built between this
world and the next. Through the night of the grave we gaze
upwards beyond the stars to the end of all things. Then we
glance at the pearl of Sorrow, in which are concealed the
wings which shall carry us away to eternal happiness.



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