Looking backward
Chapter I.
Now that we know all about Princess Bee, we may find it pleasant to look backward and think a little about the story, chapter by chapter, to find out whether it has come to stay in our minds. Some stories do and others don’t. We are glad to forget some stories, but I do not think that the story of Bee is one of that kind. Besides, it is told with such loving carefulness that, for the sake of the writer, who wrote that he might please and inspire us, we ought to read it again with a quiet mind, undisturbed by any thought of what is going to happen next; for now we know all about that.
It is a story of that wonder time so often spoken of as “long, long ago,” and its date does not matter; but you will see from the first chapter that it belongs to the time of the knights, the best of whom tried to remedy things that were wrong and make the world a finer place in which to live.
Do you like the Countess of the White Moor? And why? How much older was George than Bee?
Chapter II.
Read over several times the description of the estates of the Duchess of Clarides (there are three bites to this cherry). It is such a good “pen-picture” and there are many more in this story for which you ought to watch with care. The old monk in the tower with his birds and his books is worth thinking about and so are his rules; so also are the rules of the Duchess. There is a good “pen-picture” with two trees and two children in it. I wonder if you could sketch it?
Chapter III.
Do they teach falconry in your school? If not, you might at least try to find out something about it, for it was a fascinating sport—except, of course, for the little birds—much better fun than learning several styles of handwriting or getting “grammatical instruction with barbarous terminology.” What a lovely jumble of big words! What about that sentence, “affectionate lessons are the only good lessons”? And whatever is “inebriety “? It must be something very dreadful. I fancy it is something catching and can most easily be caught at “Tin-jugs,” and “Red Lions,” and “Indian Queens,” and “Bull and Bushes,” and suchlike places where they know absolutely nothing about synecdoche or aposiopesis either.
Chapter IV.
There are some lovely colours in the first bit of this chapter. Perhaps you could get someone to make a colour-sketch? And pearls have a “mild splendour,” haven’t they, quite different from diamonds or rubies? If you are a girl wouldn’t you like to have a hair-ribbon like Bee’s? George and Bee were taught a beautiful lesson that morning, and learnt it, too. I wish we could all describe beautiful scenery as beautifully as the Duchess could—and, by-the-way, look carefully at the iris flower when you meet with one again. Sylphs? Have you another name for them? What a sounding title the old beggar-woman gave herself, and what a well furnished kitchen she had! Have you a pipkin and a caldron at home? What are the duties of Dwarfs?
Chapter V.
Have you ever noticed that hills and woods are really “blue in the distance”? A great many writers have done so. What a charming definition (horrid word) Princess Bee gave of the horizon, and how differently she thought of the bigness of the world from George. Do you think they would find lobsters by fishing under the old stone bridge? (Perhaps, however, this is too severe a question for a tale about “long, long ago.”) Those forbidden Sylphs were still in the children’s minds, but Bee had less fear than George—or was she daring George to go? Which of the two children was the best quarreller?
Chapter VI.
And now, who is the brave adventurer? There is a pretty picture of which the “Headless Woman” is the centre. Read the description again and again and look at the picture with closed eyes. There is another with Bee in the centre, holding out her skirt for the cherries. Bee’s teachers had not taught her economics, had they? It would be hard to find a more charming description of a walk than is contained in this chapter. Bee is soon plunged in despair, but George is a little Greatheart and soon has his reward. Read slowly and more than once the description of the lake. The sudden appearance of the goose-girl gives us another pretty picture. What is a demijohn? How does Bee tell us that the day is waning? Consider the words “Reeds, like pliant swords,” and the pretty coloured flower-picture at the end of the chapter.
Chapter VII.
George still plays the part of Greatheart manfully and is ready for any event, having used his observing powers on the fruits and berries like a Boy Scout. Think of that sharp picture against the pale sky of evening—“a little dwarf riding on a crow.” Then of the changing picture—like a lovely scene in a play—as night falls upon the lake. See how the Sylphs come while the boy stands entranced. Did he remember the words of Bee’s mother as he was carried “through the waters, in halls of crystal and porphyry”? And what a lovely word the last one is!
Chapter VIII.
It would be good fun to try to draw a dwarf from the description given at the beginning of this chapter, helped by a glance at some of the little pictures in this book. Can’t you feel how quick the dwarfs were as you say the words “incredible nimbleness,” rolling them round your tongue? I wonder what it means to “look like an old poet.” Pic’s last sentence, at all events, is very like poetry. Rug is very good at argument and at sticking to his own opinion. Tad is a dwarf of character—“Justice should prevail, and not custom.” As for Pan, he might have been a very sensible father, mightn’t he? There is a pretty picture when Bee raises herself upon her elbow and another one of a different kind when Pic stands upon his dignity (to make himself taller) and speaks the sounding sentence which begins, “She is only a child.” And what a depth of real truth there is in Tad’s words, “You will consider us less ugly when you like us better.” No one who is loved can be ugly to the one who loves.
And what a sad reproach there is in Tad’s words to Rug: “You are more like a man than a dwarf.” This chapter ends with another charming picture.
Chapter IX.
How many colours or tints are mentioned in the first paragraph of this chapter? In the next paragraph poetry and gentle fun have kissed each other. A dwarf of “great majesty”? Oh, yes. Majesty is not a matter of inches. The dwarf monarch understood little girls in a wonderful way and Bee was soon at her ease as every guest is who asks for a pair of slippers, right off. The next thing such a guest would do would be to poke the fire! The illustrious Belisarius? He was a famous general who won many victories in Italy and the East, and was brave, generous, just and faithful and afraid of nothing but his wife. Bee was just a little ungracious about those slippers, don’t you think? But there was some excuse for her—she did want to be at home again. It would be a lovely arrangement if those who love each other could exchange dreams when they are parted for a time. Some people say they do, and possibly the dwarf poet believed it to be possible.
Chapter X.
It was a strange but beautiful underground world in which the dwarfs had their home. Why lava pavement? Bee’s lessons must have been fascinating. If only we could all learn without books! Then perhaps we also should “move with grace and express ourselves according to the rule of poetry.” What a delightful picture of a puppet show is given in this chapter! There are clever men and women to-day who can make dolls act in this way. Read the description again, for it is well worth while. Wouldn’t you like to play the theorbo? It has a lovely name. Did the dwarfs change as the days and months passed and the years made their round?
Chapters XI. and XII.
The deep, deep darkness between the rocky walls makes the light shine all the brighter, and Bee’s exclamation might be that of a blind girl whose sight is suddenly restored. Have you ever seen a chalice, a pyx, or a patin, and would you know them if you saw them again? Or a thurible? And wouldn’t you like that set of moonstone chessmen? What a wonderful description of a coffer full of jewels! Yet, with all this wealth before her Bee chooses to go back to earth and into the sunshine back to her mother and George of the White Moor, more precious than pearls. Read again and again, nay, learn by heart what King Loc said to Bee after he had tested her—for he was only testing her all the time. Was there ever such a proposal of marriage? But little King Loc has his own dignity—also his hopes.
Chapter XIII.
Who would be a princess and wear a crown which interfered with flowing locks and merry gambols? The story-teller strikes a sad note. Bee and the little king are both unhappy and there is a pathetic and very beautiful picture of the princess gazing on the sunbeam; another of her arrival on earth again. The king’s instructions are difficult and there is danger in them. The journey home is fascinating, reminding us of Peter and Wendy on the way to the Land of Lost Boys; so also is the arrival home, which is fully described. But the sad ending is told in a few curt words. It is much too pitiful for a long description.
Chapter XIV.
Is this story beginning to remind you of an old, old tale told long ago among the Ancient Greeks, a tale of a lost princess carried off to the Underworld by Pluto and mourned on earth by Ceres, the goddess of the corn? If you happen to know that old, old story you will be able to make interesting comparisons. But to return to King Loc. The secret comes out. Did Bee know that she loved George of the White Moor when King Loc had asked her, long before, whether she loved anyone else? Have you known Bee’s secret all along? The effect of her declaration is rather piteous—with a smile behind the sadness. King Loc’s exit is very dignified and dramatic and, by the way, what an excellent play could be made from this story, or a series of tableaux.
Chapter XV.
Poor King Loc cannot understand the situation. He is a king, he has learning, wealth, and merit. Why; therefore, does not Bee love him? Further, he is good and wishes to be just. Poor little King Loc! Nur introduces and describes himself in a speech worth learning and remembering. His long speech about ourselves is full of wisdom and warning. Read it again and again. The last portion is very beautiful. And what a wonderful way the dwarfs had of finding things out without books. George of the Moor was easily traced. King Loc is very undwarflike or, let us say, very human when he learns where George is. But would the laugh of these little creatures even in unison be a “jovial great guffaw”? Surely it is only jolly giants who make great guffaws. Perhaps you can describe the dwarf laughter in a better way. What do you think the writer means by making Nur live in a deep well?
Chapter XVI.
There is an interesting glimpse of one of the duties of the dwarfs in the first paragraph of this chapter. Have you read Mrs. Ewing’s Lob-lie-by-the-Fire? If not, get it from the library and read about what one of our poets calls “the lubber-fiend.” Dwarf madness seems to be an amiable thing. “A shell of mother-of-pearl irisated.” Remember that Iris was the Greek goddess of the rainbow. George was no more happy among the beauties of the sea-world than was Bee among the treasures of the caves, and he learnt the same lesson as she did. You will find it in the sentence which begins: “The years went by.” Compare King Loc with the Princess of the Sylphs. Achilles was the Greek hero who fought against Troy and killed their champion, Hector. Disguised as a girl, he was once sent by his mother to the court of King Lycomedes because she wished to prevent his setting out for the Siege of Troy. Tannhauser is the hero of the German story, who visited the court of Venus, the Goddess of Love, and there forgot everything but pleasure; but later he repented. The story is set to music in Wagner’s opera. George was not the first, nor the last, to be saved from slackness and inspired to deeds of courage by a book. Compare his request to be set free with that of Bee in a former part of the story. What do you think about Nur’s opinion on science and poetry?
Chapter XVII.
What is the “bezel” of a ring? And how would you like to go boating on a petroleum lake? There is a wonderful description of King Loc’s journey through the sea cavern. Does it recall any piece of literature, prose or verse, song or story. There is a good picture in the story of the meeting of George and his rival. Aristotle was a Greek philosopher who knew almost everything there was to be known. If King Loc had belonged to our time we should call him a “sport.” But it was too much to hurl Bee’s name at him without any preparation. On the whole the shadows of the story appear to be lifting in this chapter, don’t they?
Chapter XVIII.
John’s exclamation was not quite polite. If he did not see a ghost he might have guessed that it was an angel. The people had given a natural cause for the disappearance of George, but explained Bee’s absence in a more wonderful and mysterious way, with a touch of poetry. The home-coming of George has various effects, according to the character of the people he meets. Freeheart back again, too, and still at his old game of “making a song about it”! The light grows brighter and brighter.
Chapter XIX.
It was the common people who were expected to know all about the habits of the dwarfs. Glauce is good fun and a clever girl would love to act her part in a play; she is by no means unimportant in the story. Cider added to oats for a horse! I wonder what Glauce meant by “drinking fair”? And what the neighbours said afterwards about her late husband’s story?
Chapter XX.
An “espadon” must be a terrible weapon, judging by its name. Avalon lies at the farthest verge of the western sea and is the last home of all good knights, including King Arthur:
The island-valley of Avilion;
Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow,
Nor ever wind blows loudly: but it lies
Deep-meadowed, happy, fair with orchard-lawns
And bowery hollows crowned with summer sea.
And Thule is the northernmost land of all the world. Freeheart’s ideas of costume are quite original; but his notion of wine-inspired courage is not so praiseworthy. He is, however, a better diplomatist than George, and has a very charming way of telling the young lover that he has been foolishly rude. George’s entry, reception, and meeting with little King Loc make a splendid moving picture. Disappointment in love has not soured the little king, but has made him something of a poet; and how gently he reproves the hot-headed George! How kind George is, too, in the midst of his happiness. And all ends in mock-heroics and good fun.
Chapter XXI.
The last scene of all makes one long to have a play based upon this story. Who would not be proud to act King Loc and have such a lofty mind? It would be difficult, of course, to get together such a wedding present as he gave Bee, but the players could easily agree to play the game of “Let’s pretend,” as Shakespeare did when he hung up a card, on the curtain, bearing the words, “This is a wood.”
A true story? Well—what is it all about? It is a story of mother-love, child-love, and lover’s love. It is full of kindliness, courage, gaiety, forgiveness, compassion, helpfulness, resource, and fortitude. And these things have always been true, are true to-day and will be true long, long after we all reach the “island valley of Avilion.” So, what greater truth could we ask for?
We give here for purposes of enjoyment and comparison a prose story and a poem, both of which tell the story of the Greek maiden who was carried off to the dark Underworld, but who, unlike Bee, became the bride of its king; also another story of dwarfs and their ways.