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قراءة كتاب The Other Side of the Sun: Fairy Stories

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The Other Side of the Sun: Fairy Stories

The Other Side of the Sun: Fairy Stories

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
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The Other Side of the Sun

Fairy Stories
By EVELYN SHARP


Illustrated
By NELLIE SYRETT

JOHN LANE
THE BODLEY HEAD
London and New York
1900

Copyright, 1899, by
JOHN LANE


University Press

John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U. S. A.


TO
ALL THE CHILDREN I KNOW
ON
THIS SIDE OF THE SUN

Contents

CHAPTER  PAGE
I.  THE WEIRD WITCH OF THE WILLOW-HERB 3
II.  THE MAGICIAN'S TEA-PARTY 25
III.  THE HUNDREDTH PRINCESS 49
IV.  SOMEBODY ELSE'S PRINCE 71
V.  THE TEARS OF PRINCESS PRUNELLA 103
VI.  THE PALACE ON THE FLOOR 129
VII.  THE LADY DAFFODILIA 147
VIII.  THE KITE THAT WENT TO THE MOON 163

The Weird Witch of the Willow-Herb

The Weird Witch of the Willow-Herb lived in a pink cottage on the top of a hill. She was merry and beautiful and wise and kind; and she was all dressed in pink and green, and she had great eyes that were sometimes filled with laughter and sometimes filled with tears, and her round soft mouth looked as though it had done nothing but smile for hundreds and hundreds of years. Her pink cottage was the most charming place in the world to live in; the walls were made of the flower of the willow-herb, and the roof was made of the green leaves, and the floors were made of the white down; and all the little lattice windows were cobwebs, spun by the spiders who live in Fairyland and make the windows for the Fairy Queen's own palace. And no one but a wymp or a fairy could have said how long the Weird Witch of the Willow-Herb had been living in her cottage on the top of the hill.

Now, any one might think that this wonderful Witch was so sweet and so wise that all sorts of people would be coming, all day long, to ask her to help them; for, of course, that is what a witch is for. But this particular Witch, who lived in her pink cottage on the top of the hill, had not been living there all that time for nothing.

"If I did not keep a few spells lying about at the bottom of the hill, I should never have a moment's peace," chuckled the Witch of the Willow-Herb. And that is why most of the people who came to ask her for spells never got so far as the pink cottage at all, for they found what they wanted at the bottom of the hill; and no doubt that saved everybody a great deal of trouble.

"Poor people!" said the Weird Witch, with her voice full of kindness; "why should I make them climb up all this way, just to see me?"

Sometimes, however, it did happen that somebody got to the top of the hill; or else it is clear that this story would never have been written. For, one day, as the Witch sat on the doorstep of her pink cottage, looking out over the world with her great eyes that saw everything, the little Princess Winsome came running up the white path that twisted round and round and up and up until it reached the cottage at the top; and she did not stop running until she stood in front of the Weird Witch herself. She looked as though she must have come along in a great hurry, for she had lost one of her shoes on the way and there was quite an important scratch on her dimpled chin; but, of course, it is difficult to walk sedately when one is going to call on a witch.

"I am Princess Winsome," she announced, as soon as she had breath enough to speak.

"To be sure you are," smiled the Weird Witch, who knew that before; "and you have run away from home because—"

"Because I want to find the bravest boy in the world," interrupted the Princess, who never liked to let anybody else do the talking.

"Are they all cowards in your country, then?" asked the Witch.

"Oh no," answered Princess Winsome; "the boys in my country are so brave that it is no fun playing with them. They stop all the games by fighting about nothing at all; and it's dreadfully dull when you're a girl, isn't it?"

"Perhaps it is," smiled the Witch. "Then why are you looking for the bravest boy of all?"

"Ah," said the little Princess, wisely, "the bravest boy of all would never fight unless there was a reason, you see; and so we should have lots of time to play. But how am I to find him?"

"The only way to find him is to let him find you," said the Weird Witch; "and the best thing I can do for you is to shut you up in the middle of an enchanted forest, where no one but the bravest boy in the world would ever come to find any one. Now, make haste, or you won't get there in time!"

And the Princess with the scratch on her chin must certainly have made haste, for she had quite disappeared by the time the Witch's next visitor came up the winding white path; and that happened the very next minute. This time it was a boy who came along,—a tall, strong, jolly-looking boy, with his hands in his pockets and his cap at the back of his head, whistling a strange wild tune that was made up of all the songs of all the birds in the air, so that, as he whistled it, every bird for miles round stopped to listen.

"I am Kit the Coward," he said, pulling off his cap to the Witch.

"To be sure you are," smiled the Weird Witch, who knew that too; "and you have run away from home because the other boys called you a coward, and you want to show them that you are as brave as they are, only you won't fight without a reason. Isn't that it?"

"Of

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