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ONCE upon a time, when Fairies were much more common than they are now, there lived a King and a Queen. Their country was close to Fairy Land, and very often the little Elves would cross over the border, and come into the King's fields and gardens. The girl-fairies would swing out of the bells of the fuschias, and loll on the leaves, and drink the little drops of dew that fell down the stems. Here you may see all the Fairies making themselves merry at a picnic on a fuschia, and an ugly little Dwarf is climbing up the stalk.Here's the King, in mournful mood,They'd amuse him, if they could!Now the King and Queen of the country next to Fairy Land were very rich, and very fond of each other; but one thing made them unhappy. They had no child, neither boy nor girl, to sit on the Throne when they were dead and gone. Often the Queen said she wished she had a child, even if it were no bigger than her thumb; and she hoped the Fairies might hear her and help her. But they never took any notice. One day, when the King had been counting out his money all day (the day when the tributes were paid in), he grew very tired. He took off his crown, and went into his garden.Then he looked all round his kingdom, and said, "Ah! I would give it all for a BABY!"
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Seitenzahl: 27
ANDREW LANG
Illustrator:
Richard Doyle
ILLUSTRATED &
PUBLISHED BY
E-KİTAP PROJESİ & CHEAPEST BOOKS
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Copyright, 2019 by e-Kitap Projesi
Istanbul
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ISBN: 978-605-7861-40-5
©
BALLADE OF DEDICATION.
CHAPTER I.
THE PRINCESS NOBODY.
CHAPTER II.
IN MUSHROOM LAND.
CHAPTER III.
LOST AND FOUND.
o all you babes at Branxholm Park,This book I dedicate;A book for winter evenings dark,Too dark to ride or skate.I made it up out of my pate,And wasted midnight oil,Interpreting each cut and plate—The works of Dicky Doyle!
When weary winter comes, and hark!The Teviot roars in “spate”;When half you think you’ll need the Ark,The flood’s so fierce and great;Think of the Prince and of his mate,Their triumph and their toil,And mark them drawn in all their state—The works of Dicky Doyle!
Now, if my nonsense hits the mark—If Wynnie, Pop, and Kate,Think tales of Fays and Giants stark,Not wholly out of date—Another time, perchance, I’ll prate,And keep a merry coil,Though ne’er I’ll match the drawings great—The works of Dicky Doyle!
ENVOY.
Girls, may you ne’er know fear nor hate;Boys, field like Mr. Royle!And, please, don’t say I desecrateThe works of Dicky Doyle!
Taming a Butterfly
ONCE upon a time, when Fairies were much more common than they are now, there lived a King and a Queen. Their country was close to Fairy Land, and very often the little Elves would cross over the border, and come into the King’s fields and gardens. The girl-fairies would swing out of the bells of the fuschias, and loll on the leaves, and drink the little drops of dew that fell down the stems. Here you may see all the Fairies making themselves merry at a picnic on a fuschia, and an ugly little Dwarf is climbing up the stalk.
Here’s the King, in mournful mood,They’d amuse him, if they could!Now the King and Queen of the country next to Fairy Land were very rich, and very fond of each other; but one thing made them unhappy. They had no child, neither boy nor girl, to sit on the Throne when they were dead and gone. Often the Queen said she wished she had a child, even if it were no bigger than her thumb; and she hoped the Fairies might hear her and help her. But they never took any notice. One day, when the King had been counting out his money all day (the day when the tributes were paid in), he grew very tired. He took off his crown, and went into his garden. Then he looked all round his kingdom, and said, “Ah! I would give it all for a BABY!”