Once upon a time, high up in the sky, there lived a little cloud named Cotton. Cotton was a bright, fluffy cloud, always shining in the radiant morning sun. However, Cotton felt a little lonely, even among his fellow clouds. They all seemed content to drift around the sky all day, but not Cotton! No, Cotton wanted to see the world under the sky, where all sorts of plants and animals lived. So, early one fine morning, Cotton said goodbye to his friends and set off on an adventure.
“O! but how shall I ever know where to go,” thought Cotton, floating aimlessly on the coolest little breeze. But soon, one little bird came fluttering by, and he chirped, “Oh, Cotton, how happy you look today! Have you any place in particular that you are going to see? If you have, I would like to show you the way.”
Now Cotton had never thought of this before; but as soon as the bird asked him, he said, “Why, yes! I have great many things I want to see, and if you will be my guide, I will be so glad!” The little bird hopped up and said, “I will take you to the house of mother Goose first, for I know that she will be glad to make your acquaintance.”
So away flew the little bird to a country far away, where cotton grew in great fields. They passed over the beautiful woods, and large green meadows covered with daisies and the lovely buttercups, until at last they came to mother Goose’s house. Cotton said that he would wait in the air while his little guide went to see mother Goose, for he wished to see the country around him. At last the little bird returned and said, “Mother Goose is very ill, and will be so glad to see you at once.”
Cotton then peeped into the house, and oh, so dust and dirty all looked! Most beautiful little mother Goose was sitting in bed, covered all over except her little head with a quilt, Mother Goose gave a little nod with her head as much as to say, “Good-morning, Mister Cotton! how are you today, and what brings you to see me?”
By this time the little bird had got the tip of his bill between the handle of the door, and with one little push opened it wide, so that Cotton could float into the room. “Do come in,” said mother Goose; “I am so much obliged to you, Cotton, for I am so very hot that it is a kind of pleasure for me to see you! Come and sit down.” So Cotton sat down, but he was so young that he did not like to take off his hat to mother Goose, even when she looked very kindly at him from under the quilt. “Oh, I must ask you, dear, to call on your way home, for I am dreadfully thirsty and want a little fresh water,” whispered mother Goose to little bird as he was just taking leave. “You know where I always have some good fresh water—the well that I take my own sad down to, so only you tell him to fill a kettle full and bring it to me here.”
The little bird said he would never forget to do it, sure enough, and with a kind farewell he set off with Cotton. While they were flying along he told Cotton that he had known mother Goose many, many years, and had never known her to be ill before. “Well that may be so,” said Cotton, “but it was new to me to see a goose in bed.” That’s true indeed,” said the little bird, and we can’t do better than go on talking about her while we are on our way to the fresh well for the drink. “Oh yes, that will amuse us both very much.”
“Of course I am not going to take you, children,” said the kiddies, “to see mother Goose tonight, as I did before; for that was very late, and you really should have been in your own little beds and houses asleep, not flying so far. Oh! yes you are right; but do let us see how mother Goose is, and what she had to drink.” Therefore the kiddies went; but, unfortunately, before they got there the fresh water was all all been drunk up by Mother Goose, before the kettle was allowed to cool! “Oh, heart! mother Goose, how could be so awful greedy!”
“I am so thirsty,” answered mother Goose, “and I don’t know when I shall have a chance of drinking again. This water strengthens me so very much! The man you saw me with is my doctor—my very own doctor, he is; he always looks on the blessed fruits and the blessed flowers that grows on the blessed earth; and when he has looked over the blessed, whether it be night or day, it is all the same to him, in all sorts of weather, he sorts them all the blessed butterflies, whatever he sees he masters and puts in his pocket, he does—for bless him!”
“I do think, mother Goose,” said one of the kiddies, “if I had been the doctor, I shouldn’t have given you anything nice to drink this hour.” “No? what a very naughty little fellow you must be, not to have done anything so good and kind to poor mother Goose as that!” You naughty, greedy, hideous boy!” “Tell his mother of him, and ask her if she knows what a horrible dilema mother Goose is in; mother Goose is only a goose, you know; though she does drink with pickle forks! I say, mother Goose, you are thoroughly well, anyhow!” “No,” said mother Goose, “it’s not something to eat or drink, I need to come and look at it.”
Now, that poor mother Goose was so very near dying, she was! However, she is a great deal better now, and I hope that you kiddies will remember to come here and see her very often—I am sure you will, for she is so very good-natured and agreeable, she is. Good night to you, kiddies! Good night!”
So when tomorrow morning came again, O fluffiest and whitest of little clouds, cotton! I fly off and visit my dear tipsies! I fly off for many miles back again to mother Goose. So, now you have been, and must confess you have nothing to fear from the blessing. Everybody gets to see mother Goose with it, who can give anybody “A Mother’s Blessing” when they like! Good night to my soft, most minimal of white, pure cotton flower!
Well very early in the morning out father came. He stopped to twirl round and round, and became all red, and he thought we’d make up a fine rainbow together. And when father had sung us his better tunes, he asked father Cloud come now to look at mother Goose. When he came to determine them all asleep, his heart and our camera hearts, I may tell you all about us, were quite ready to burst.
The next weathers that passed over us packed up all their things, plane-trees, summertime and the old well from whose bottom I was come hollow hearts and set out for South America. Only sweet Summer stayed another minute to give our party all her midsummer blessings. Father Sun, mother Bird, father Rain, Aunt Honey, all were in tears to shake hands and part with us; it was a very very melancholy good-bye altogether!
After we had been blown by the wind for several hours, one unlucky summer afternoon, we happened to pitch our tent rather low down in the sugar-cane grounds of a poor musician who lived in the street of that kind of trees that send their heads up and up to a narrow point. Just then there was a pit-a-pat, a rain was coming pattering down…