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[119] <h2 class="nobreak">MERRIMEG AND THE APPLE-SEED ELF</h2> MERRIMEG was sitting in an apple tree in the orchard. She sat there as still as a mouse. Her mother came to the kitchen door and called: “Merrimeg!” But Merrimeg sat in the apple tree as quiet as a mouse; and answered never a word. “Merrimeg!” called her mother. “Where are you?” Still Merrimeg said nothing. It was not one of her days to be good. “Come dry the dishes! Come dry the dishes!” called her mother. But Merrimeg did not want to dry dishes, so she sat in the apple tree among the green leaves and red apples, and said never a word. Her mother went back into the kitchen, and closed the door behind her. [120]Then Merrimeg reached out her hand and plucked the biggest and reddest apple near her, and took a great bite out of it. “Oh, you naughty child!” piped up a little thin squeaking voice. “Are you trying to bite my head off?” She looked at the apple in her hand, and there, in the place where she had bitten it, was a tiny head with little black eyes. “Let me out!” cried the voice again. “Suppose you’d bitten my head off, what then, eh?” Merrimeg held up the apple and looked close at the tiny head. “I’m sorry,” said she. “How can I let you out?” “Why, you stupid thing,” said the little creature, “eat me out, of course!” “Oh!” said Merrimeg, and she carefully ate all around the outside of the apple, and out came into her hand the tiniest little man in the world, no bigger than an apple core, and dressed in a coat made of apple seeds all fastened together. “I heard your mother calling you!” said this[121] little elf. “First you won’t answer your mother, and then you nearly bite my head off. What do you mean by it?” [122] <div class="figcenter"><ANTIMG src="images/i_121.jpg" alt="" /></div> MERRIMEG WAS SITTING IN AN APPLE TREE [123]“I don’t like to dry dishes,” said Merrimeg. “Oh, she doesn’t like to dry dishes! Oh, no indeed! She mustn’t do anything she doesn’t want to do! Not she! I’ll tell you what; I suppose you’d like to do nothing all day but eat and be outdoors, and never have to bother about washing and dressing and sweeping and dusting and running errands,—I suppose that’s what you’d like?” “Well,” said Merrimeg, “I would like it pretty well. I hate to sweep and——” “All right!” cried the Apple-Seed Elf, and he sprang from her hand onto a branch near her shoulder. “I’ll fix it for you! I’ll see to it! You’ll never have to dress or do any lessons any more,—now then! Caterpillar! Go away, child, and come up, caterpillar! Come up, caterpillar! Come, come, come!” As he finished saying this, Merrimeg disappeared. There was no little girl sitting on the[124] branch any longer, but in her place was a fat yellow caterpillar, wriggling along the bark. She was turned into a caterpillar, and she would never have to dress herself or learn any lessons any more. The Apple-Seed Elf hopped down behind the caterpillar and pushed it with his foot. “Ha, ha, ha!” he laughed. “No more dishes to dry for you! Ha, ha!” At that moment a blackbird swooped down over the caterpillar and made a dart at it with his beak and nearly got it. But he missed it, just, and if he hadn’t missed it that would surely have been the end of Merrimeg forever. She wasn’t out of danger, however. The blackbird meant to have that caterpillar, and he came back directly, and this time he swooped down straight over it and opened his beak and—— But at that instant he was knocked sideways by something which shot out at him from among the branches. It was a tiny lady with gauzy wings, a sparkling little lady, not quite so big as the blackbird,[125] and she darted at the bird with a flash like the flash of diamonds, and knocked him sideways just as he was about to snap up the caterpillar. “Ha, ha, ha!” laughed the Apple-Seed Elf, still standing on the branch behind the caterpillar. He seemed to be having a thoroughly good time. The blackbird wasn’t going to give up so soon. He dashed at the caterpillar again, and the sparkling little lady dashed at the blackbird; and she knocked him sideways, and he flew off and turned round and came back again. He was the stubbornest blackbird in the world. He came back a dozen times. And each time the sparkling lady, with her wings buzzing like a bumblebee’s, knocked him sideways and sent him off. But the thirteenth time she missed him. Just as he was pouncing on the caterpillar she flashed by him, too late. She wheeled around and cried out, “Go away, caterpillar! Come up, butterfly!” And the caterpillar turned instantly into a beautiful butterfly, and the butterfly floated away off the branch just in time. [126]The blackbird snatched up the Apple-Seed Elf in its beak by the back of his coat, and dashed off with him. The elf screamed and kicked, but it wasn’t any use; the blackbird flew off with him out of sight among the trees, and did not come back any more. Merrimeg was a butterfly, a beautiful butterfly, with pointed wings all white and blue and brown. It fluttered here and there in the sunshine for a moment, then it sailed out from the orchard as if it knew where it was going, and floated off across the cabbage garden to the kitchen window, and in through the kitchen window straight into the kitchen, where Merrimeg’s mother was washing the dishes. “Oh!” said Merrimeg’s mother. “What a beautiful butterfly! I must try to catch it for Merrimeg.” The butterfly sailed round the kitchen, and Merrimeg’s mother held up her apron and tiptoed after it, and almost caught it, but not quite. It flew off into the front room, and when Merrimeg’s mother came in it was resting quietly on[127] Merrimeg’s bed, fluttering its wings. Oh, if that butterfly could only have said one word! Merrimeg’s mother held her apron over it, but it rose in the air, and as she ran after it it flew out of the front window into the street and was gone. Merrimeg’s mother went back to her washing in the kitchen. “I wonder where that Merrimeg is,” said she, and she went to the kitchen door and called, “Merrimeg!” But there was no answer, and she turned back into the kitchen again, and threw her hands up and said, “Why, bless me, there’s that butterfly again!” Sure enough, the butterfly was hovering around, here and there, quite as if it could not make up its mind to go away. Merrimeg’s mother held up her apron again and tried to catch it; but she only drove it into the front room, and when she followed it there, waving her apron, it flew out of the window into the street. “Oh, pshaw,” she said, “I can’t bother with you all day.” And she closed the window. [128]The butterfly rose higher and sailed off down the street in the direction of the woods. Merrimeg’s mother went back to her washing. Now it happened, after a while, that the two gnomes, brother Malkin and brother Nibby, were sitting on the moss beside the roof of their house, with their back against a tree. A butterfly, with pointed wings all white and blue and brown, came fluttering towards them through the woods. It alighted on a bush directly before them, and rested there for a long time, waving its wings up and down. The gnomes sat staring at it. Oh, if that butterfly could only have said one word! Suddenly Malkin looked up at the sky and said: “What’s that blackbird carrying, brother?” “Why, I believe it’s—it’s——” began Nibby. A blackbird was flying just above them, and as they spoke something dropped from its beak right down onto the bush beside the butterfly. It was the Apple-Seed Elf. [129]“Bless my soul, brother,” said Malkin in surprise, but before he could say anything else the Apple-Seed Elf hopped over to the butterfly and rubbed his tiny hands quickly over its beautiful wings, all white and blue and brown. <div class="figcenter"><ANTIMG src="images/i_129.jpg" alt="" /></div> “Oh, the wicked little villain!” cried Malkin, and the two gnomes made a dash at the Elf; but he skipped away in a hurry, laughing “Ha, ha, ha!” and disappeared from sight under the bush. The butterfly flapped its wings, trying to fly, but it couldn’t. All the powder, the soft delicate powder with its beautiful colors, which covered its wings, was brushed off; and without[130] this powder on its wings the butterfly could not fly. The gnomes looked about carefully, and on the leaves of the bush they found the powder, and they dusted it off into an acorn cup. But they didn’t know how to put it on again. “What’ll we do about it?” said Nibby. “We’d better go to the Paint Shop,” said Malkin. “That’s a good idea, brother,” said Nibby. “I declare you do think of everything.” “Then let’s go,” said Malkin, and he picked up the poor butterfly gently. It wasn’t beautiful any longer, and it couldn’t fly. “I’ll carry the powder,” said Nibby, and he took the acorn cup in his hands, full of a powder all white and blue and brown, mixed up together. They made off through the woods as fast as they could. By and by they came to a brook, and on the other side of the brook, among the trees, was a tiny house, with an open door no taller than the gnomes, and over the door was a sign, and it said: [131]“Butterflies Painted Here.” The gnomes crossed the brook and went in at the little door; and as they did so a big butterfly, gorgeously painted, came flying out. Inside, in a little room, a little old man with a long white beard and goggle-eyes was sitting behind a little table. On the table before him was row after row of acorn cups, hundreds of them, each one filled with a colored powder, and every color different from all the others. The little old man was a Painter of Butterflies. He dipped a tiny hair brush into one of the cups of powder, and said: “Wait a minute, please. I’ve got to finish this wing.” A butterfly was lying on the table before him, all finished except for a spot on one wing; and dozens of other butterflies were waiting their turns on a bench by the wall; these last had no colors on their wings at all. The Painter of Butterflies touched up the wing before him with an orange-colored powder, and said: [132]“Now you’ll do. Off with you!” The butterfly fluttered, rose in the air, and sailed out through the door. “You’re next,” said the Painter. Malkin put down his butterfly on the table, and Nibby laid down his cup of powder. “Aha!” said the Painter. “Let me look at that butterfly! Something queer about that butterfly! Wait a minute!” He put on a pair of thick shiny spectacles and bent down over the butterfly. “Aha!” he said. “I thought so! This isn’t a butterfly. I ought to know a butterfly when I see one. This is something else entirely. Did you ever see a butterfly with a pink sash?” He took off his spectacles and gave them to the gnomes, and they looked at the butterfly through the spectacles, one after the other. There, around the butterfly’s body, was a thread of pink ribbon, tied with a bow. When they took the spectacles off they couldn’t see it any longer. [133]“Bless my soul, brother Nibby,” said Malkin, “I believe it’s——” “I believe it is, brother, I believe it is,” said Nibby. “I’ve seen her wear a pink sash. However did she get changed into a butterfly?” The little old Painter picked up the acorn cup which Nibby had brought, and looked into it. “Aha!” he said. “White and blue and brown. She must have had a white skin and blue eyes and brown hair. Wait a minute.” He poured the powder from the cup onto the table, and held his brush over it. “White, white, come up!” he said; and all the white powder flew up onto the brush. He painted the butterfly’s wings with this, so that they became white all over. “Blue, blue, come up!” he said, and all the blue powder flew up onto the brush. With this he painted a round blue eye on each wing. “Brown, brown, come up!” he said, and the brown powder flew up on to the brush. With this he painted brown streaks like hair on each wing. [134]“Now,” he said, “fly!” The butterfly rose and flew around the room, and then settled down on Nibby’s shoulder. “That’s done,” said the Painter, “now we’d better go and see old Sappy the Owl about it.” <div class="figcenter"><ANTIMG src="images/i_134fp.jpg" alt="" /></div> THE TWO GNOMES FOLLOWED HIM OUT OF THE DOOR He got up, and the two gnomes followed him out of the door, the butterfly coming along on Nibby’s shoulder. They came, after a while, to a great hollow oak tree in the woods, and the Painter stuck his head into a hole at the bottom of the tree and shouted up inside: “Sappy! Come down!” Then he stood up, and in a moment a large gray owl was standing in the opening at the bottom of the tree. “Here’s a butterfly with a pink sash,” said the Painter. “We’d better tell him, brother,” said Malkin, “about the Elf with the apple-seed coat, who brushed all the powder off the butterfly’s wings.” “Suppose you tell him, brother,” said Nibby. But Sappy didn’t wait to be told; he had evidently[135] heard all he needed to hear. He gave a slow wink with one eye, ruffled his feathers, and flew away among the trees without a word. “He’ll be back,” said the Painter, and in a little while old Sappy came back, and he was carrying in his beak the Apple-Seed Elf. “Let me go!” cried the Elf, kicking and squirming, and owl dropped him to the ground and stood over him. “What do you want?” piped the Elf, evidently frightened almost to death. “Say the words!” growled the owl, in a deep hoarse voice. “Say the words that’ll change the butterfly back again, and say ’em before I count ten, or else I’ll eat you. One, two, three, four,——” The Apple-Seed Elf started to scamper off through the grass, but the owl put his foot on him, quick as a wink. “Five, six, seven,——” “Let me go!” cried the Elf, struggling to get loose. “Eight, nine,——” [136]“Go away, butterfly!” cried the Elf, in his shrill voice. “Come up, child! Go away, butterfly! Come up, child!” The minute he had said this, Nibby cried out, “My stars, brother, here’s a go!” And there, on Nibby’s shoulder, in place of the butterfly, sat Merrimeg herself, with her feet dangling to the ground. “Let me go!” screamed the Apple-Seed Elf, and Sappy the Owl gave him a kick with his foot and sent him off scampering through the grass. “I believe she’s here, brother,” said Malkin. “I’m sure of it, brother, I’m sure of it,” said Nibby, as Merrimeg slipped from his shoulder and stood on her feet. “Take me home!” said Merrimeg. “Take me home quick! Don’t stand there all day, I want to go home!” “Not very polite to-day, brother Nibby,” said Malkin. “Not very, indeed,” said Nibby. “Excuse me,” said Merrimeg, “but my[137] mother’s been calling me, and I mustn’t keep her waiting.” “Well,” said the little old Painter of Butterflies, “I guess I’d better get back to my work.” “Why don’t you go, then?” growled Sappy the Owl. “I must go,” said Merrimeg. “Mother wants me to help her with the dishes, and there’s some sweeping to be done, too, and——” “Come along, brother,” said Malkin, and the two gnomes led Merrimeg away in the direction of their house. When they reached it, Merrimeg thanked them, very politely, and ran away home; and when she opened the kitchen door her mother was peeling the potatoes for supper. “Why, Merrimeg!” said her mother. “Wherever have you been? I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Will you sit down and finish peeling these potatoes for me?” “Yes, mother,” said Merrimeg. <div class="figcenter"><ANTIMG src="images/i_139.jpg" alt="" /></div> <hr class="tb" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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