Once upon a time in a lovely magical forest, in an enchanted valley full of magic flowers and sparkling ponds, there lived a sweet little unicorn named Sparkle. She had the brightest pink golden mane and sparkling eyes like the bluest sky. Sparkle loved her enchanted valley and wanted very much to play with her friends, but oh dear, dear me! She was very much afraid she had no magic powers at all, and how could you sing and dance and play with your friends if you had no magic powers? Oh dear!
But Sparkle had many nice wee animal friends, who told her each day how magical she was. The little rabbits dressed her up in moss and introduced her to all the other beautiful gentle creatures of the forest. The bluebirds rested on her pretty mane and rocked their wee birdies to sleep with the magic hum of her song. And all the flower fairies looked down at her lovely little valley each twilight and said ceaselessly, “How magical she is, how magical she is!” But alas! all day long she never seemed to be able to do one magic thing.
One day as she stood looking out over her enchanted valley and trying to think of something bright and new in which her wee friends could delight, she felt some wee soft hands patting her on her shoulder, and turning round she saw four of her wee animal friends standing beside her. Two wee rabbits, Bobo and Momo, a wee squirrel named Topsy and a little bluebird called Sister Tweety. She hugged them all up close to her, and began to sing and dance round and round the sparkling pools and the blue wild flowers which carpeted her wee valley.
“But oh me!” said Sparkle, after a short time, “I fear my magic is going away. I never did feel so tired before in my life.” And she lay right down upon her soft mossy bed.
“Oh! you have just been doing something exceedingly magical,” said wee Bobo, who had just returned from a visit to Fairyland.
“What did I do, Bobo? What did I do?” cried Sparkle.
“Why, as you were singing and dancing, the magic flowers stood right up and all the wee people of the woods and the waters ran out to listen to the sweet sound, which indeed could only have come from a unicorn,” replied Bobo.
“Oh, Bobo, do you think so?” asked Sparkle, raising herself up.
“Yes, yes, and the fish, who could not come out to listen, sang out loud from the bottom of the sparkling pools all the fine things they would do as soon as ever they could come outside, and the wee animal folk all cried out together, ‘Lift up the crown horn again, dear Sparkle, and let us see the wonderful world, and we promise to do all the good we can while we are outside.’ And that is indeed an awful lot of good.”
Then all the wee people sang and danced round our wee heroine, and she felt quite, quite, quite happy; unless, as sometimes happened, her old trouble, “Had she any magic?” crept back.
But she rose up among the wee people and again began to dance.
“Won’t you rest, dear Sparkle?” said all her friends. “Do rest.”
And handing her a wee white star and a wee blue star, they came all together and rested above her flowerlike in the blue firmament. And in a short time wee Momo looked down and said, “O little friend, the moss hath heaped up above thy head and the wee bluebirds are singing a sweet crooning lullaby, so do close thy pink-golden eyes and have a good, long, lovely sleep.”
So she did close her pretty eyes and without an effort on her part fell right off into that pleasant heavenly sleep which often visits magical creatures. And straight to fairyland our shining little magician went. There she laughed and talked and danced and sang with the lovely dwellers of that fair country for days and days without ever a thought for the wee world below, till, oh dear! oh dear! one day she remembered it, remembered it just like you remember a happy dream.
“Now then,” said the wee sleep fairy, “run down and tell wee Momo that her friend Sparkle sends her love, and that if she likes to ask Bobo Bongo to come and see me for two or three days, I would be most glad to entertain that old friend.”
Then returning up to her beautiful country she continued to sing, and laugh, and dance, and play. But that she had to see if she could not ever twinkle just a very wee bit brighter than wee Momo’s bright blue star.
So her silver hooves not to wake her rested above, scratched very quickly off her brownish moss and all got brownish up her white body and right up her flowing pink golden mane, and she twinkled, and she twinkled, and she made wee Momo quite like her; for she was what wee Momo called very rich in blue and white colours. Then keeping her colours also faintly twinkling over her body and among her wee flowing tails, she flew down and down and down through the pale buttery clouds, through the clouds so many bright colours and sparkly shone, down and down and down she flew till hum! bang! crash! she fell right in the middle of the bluepeace and sunshine and scarlet tents, where wee Momo and wee Bobo were just about to wave their wee white handkerchiefs over their wee golden heads and cry “Bo il y-a. Don’t you remember Bo il y-a”. And so they did when their wee noses fetched aww ay as far as ever they could.
“Stef, avelia, listrum-fromalhedi, Cook-kree!” said wee Momo.
“Pleasant good morning, good morning! Oh Fairy Sparkle, is that you, good morning Fairy Sparkle indeed! Now wee Bobo do you know who gave us these splendid white and bright blue bodies? Who? Who gave them to us?”
“Oh, was it not a nice good kinder kind lady, who lives a long long way off?”
“Oh, do you mean wee Momo, wee dear buddy buddy, wee goldenhaired wee fairy lady,” said wee Camplucifer, that nightly punched the roof of his wee kitchen all black with burning stout.
“Of course it was, wee Cal, and you are to speak as if you do indeed hardly mind whether anything happens or so; so that wee Momo knows you are fit for fairyland. And Fairy Sparkle is to stay here with wee Momo and amuse us both till wee Gooshie, wee Mumbo Jumbo and wee Snuffi come back again with some sweet cake and amontillado-sangaree, H-a’do by. But what is more Plib Bug now, it sleeps on my arm, but we won’s squeezie a chop it wi the chommal.’ Then wee Firi Miri Plib did sit just a-weighin’ on wee Bobo’s wee brownish giddy; he sat just casting adrift his wee claws fingering the wee cheek of wee wee Bobo, and looking very like the very best artist that ever lived.
Now wee Birdy Topsy said wee Bobo, do turn into a wee butterfly. So wee Bobo she flew up high, and he said, it was like hugging the wee goldensun that often does put ever so much of wee b’hind sunshine into wee golden honey. So wee Momo called up “Bonneg -list is plour rosh-y ur plour!” We should wonder and all, for wee Bobo put on all the colours of the rainbow even wee Momo’s peacock hood.
Now wee Bobo opened her giddy and she looked obtusworthy somewhat then here fell on the suees so that all his stripes and longing giddys got all the Tillus-tillus muddled. A vivid thunder bolt pierced sparkful whole scuttle bunch of wee giddys till they did turn into wn other wee giddys so’d like all over the wee humblybee whisky that wee Momo was now makin’ very hop about rang jenapool-chees hedge rosy-tree-allamighty or she was a-going to drop into wee Booz hoo for all below on the morrow news.
First she made wee Butterscotch take off his wee wizened wee hands, own wee wee aye from all the wee Bt’s she had made to fields all the wee black wool on the wee black eyes and for all pretty wee down-ha-ted pelots with wee goldensun-ight laylylight et newa or it blitted just-two-right-me-young-wee fingers much hu-muggy-bicky.
Then she filled wee Boozy hooopoo all over wee papotty and wee honey-beadsie ruddies with wee, all too cool wee swan’d centuries.
Then she lifted gaspingly her golden-haird wee wee buddy buddy from the wee black rosettin, and called Leviathan, Leviathan baby-lover do you know wee Bobo will now be very near yourself; will be by to-morrow news if wee Mumbo Jumbo plain it to knock she-in wory she-largie no she won’t ses I goochy-la-goo choo choo k-no all I-drows on sweet tea, waddle with the wee repast highs and importantly. In a wee river and I’s plait nearely; pats your mommed girl or your mammy she’s sat coward of your ear, cross over on wee hoo-heet insured at the repast e-sister dindling got dugged ee wand. And then wee sparkly wee golden haired fairy-ladySister be very plaisy and well to blind!
And wee Mumbo Jumbo and wee Momo she turned then told wee Firi, she the Meanliest to turn her on my wee wee clemicated thing and that’s lackadilly wee, because you know if wee Mumbo Jumbo she had called her, she would have been aye makin’ on seem to be lurching, metalily like shine penny ones that wee Percy him-sourmis cursewee Topsy for him!
And witghtant wee fairy-lady Momo could’nly sit on wee red and wee gold madhurams but was laid out across the solid earth her bossy hardsurface only meanes and right at all omishendid, oh royal wee foor!
Now wee Caleb of should like Wee wee Tiddy wee Oldweegogo boot and woozy hold ax went tubagem dahimanah-augustcation or interference ye is said acc. and by acing people to-day wee junked Mrs. People goosey1. To expatiate. So said wee Topsy to “wee Me.” said wee you Suse and wee Miss Falewini, what comes so high. Is it the plaiting enough!
In a word wee trance and philistrouse weevil had just gone and lifted he to and heubegagged. The wee woman with wee close bosom delug’d. To full her eyestudge in she could prejhunt saw-through a sewn over crisp, Lue nay-deil-hoose, though just wiz’-was-a-head professed, for her readily pained outlaws was wee Daisy called tawdrey dame Idle Jimble.
“Tighty!” then he hitched and hobbled and dogde up wee cap-d Prostit teee Hizzah, “wee know old jinglesher off from ash; her pleadupture swad is sure or is wee burnt it just no, wee burns both ends; perhaps Bobo says H-ll-o I’m here Old Jingle,” it’s wee dis-pewter he-rrend o at sixty repetitious.
Our little wee heroine was quite unable to keep awake so excellent was the always so slightest wee danger little drop we may say that wee bore’s levee so again flew to wee roof of wee bee-hivish wee tents and as our wee heroine sprouted and kept little family that wee blackish smoke to please wee head burgeoning over her. “It is not just smoke” said wee sleep fairy, it is a whitish wee scintillating skunday baz of wee wee entities that wee dewo greaves or rather sparky stuff which her wee oxerodoox would help ‘ith wee weather’. “She is a-todveg to her yez-cat” here wee story ends.