The Unruly Sprite - A Partial Fairy Tale
Van Dyke Henry 1852-1933
English
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Below is a summary of The Unruly Sprite - A Partial Fairy Tale
THE UNRULY SPRITE
By Henry van Dyke
A Partial Fairy Tale
There was once a man who was also a writer of books.
The merit of his books lies beyond the horizon of this tale. No doubt
some of them were good, and some of them were bad, and some were merely
popular. But he was all the time trying to make them better, for he
was quite an honest man, and thankful that the world should give him a
living for his writing. Moreover, he found great delight in the doing of
it, which was something that did not enter into the world's account--a
kind of daily Christmas present in addition to his wages.
But the interesting thing about the man was that he had a clan or train
of little sprites attending him--small, delicate, aerial creatures,
who came and went around him at their pleasure, and showed him wonderful
things, and sang to him, and kept him from being discouraged, and often
helped him with his work.
If you ask me what they were and where they came from, I must frankly
tell you that I do not know. Neither did the man know. Neither does
anybody else know.
But he had sense enough to understand that they were real--just as
real as any of the other mysterious things, like microbes, and polonium,
and chemical affinities, and the northern lights, by which we are
surrounded. Sometimes it seemed as if the sprites were the children of
the flowers that die in blooming; and sometimes as if they came in a
flock with the birds from the south; and sometimes as if they rose one
by one from the roots of the trees in the deep forest, or from the
waves of the sea when the moon lay upon them; and sometimes as if they
appeared suddenly in the streets of the city after the people had passed
by and the houses had gone to sleep. They were as light as thistle-down,
as unsubstantial as mists upon the mountain, as wayward and flickering
as will-o'-the-wisps. But there was something immortal about them,
and the man knew that the world would be nothing to him without their
presence and comradeship.
Most of these attendant sprites were gentle and docile; but there was
one who had a strain of wildness in him. In his hand he carried a bow,
and at his shoulder a quiver of arrows, and he looked as if, some day or
other, he might be up to mischief.
Now this man was much befriended by a certain lady, to whom he used to
bring his stories in order that she might tell him whether they were
good, or bad, or merely popular. But whatever she might think of the
stories, always she like the man, and of the airy fluttering sprites
she grew so fond that it almost seemed as if they were her own children.
This was not unnatural, for they were devoted to her; they turned the
pages of her book when she read; they made her walks through the forest
pleasant and friendly; they lit lanterns for her in the dark; they
brought flowers to her and sang to her, as well as to the man. Of this
he was glad, because of his great friendship for the lady and his desire
to see her happy.
But one day she complained to him of the sprite who carried the bow. "He
is behaving badly," she said; "he teases me."
"That surprises me," said the man, "and I am distressed to hear it; for
at heart he is rather good and to you he is deeply attached. But how
does he tease you, dear lady? What does he do?"
"Oh, nothing," she answered, "and that is what annoys me. The others are
all busy with your affairs or mine. But this idle one follows me like my
shadow, and looks at me all the time. It is not at all polite. I fear he
has a vacant mind and has not been well brought up."
"That may easily be," said the man, "for he came to me very suddenly one
day, and I have never inquired about his education."
"But you ought to do so," said she; "it is your duty to have him taught
to know his place, and not to tease, and other useful lessons."
"You are always right," said the man, "and it shall be just as you say."
On the way home he talked seriously to the sprite and told him how
impolite he had been, and arranged a plan for his schooling in botany,
diplomacy, music, psychology, deportment, and other useful studies.
The rest of the sprites came in to the school-room every day, to get
some of the profitable lessons. The sat around quiet and orderly, so
that it was quite like a kindergarten. But the principal pupil was
restless and troublesome.
"You are never still," said the man, "you have an idle mind and
wandering thoughts."
"No!" said the sprite, shaking his head. "It is true my mind is not on
my lessons. But my thoughts do not wander at all. They always follow
yours."
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