In a forest deep, where the trees stood high, a light dusting of snow began to drift downward. The forest grew silent, the chill in the air bringing a clarity to all sounds. Birds, with their feathers fluffed up tight, chirped merrily at the winter’s approach. But beneath a cluster of bushes sat Fiona the Fox, gazing out sadly at the world.
Fiona was no ordinary fox; she was an unusual white fox. Most foxes enjoy sporting vibrantly colored orange or grey coats with bushy black-banded tips, perfect for blending in and stalking through the undergrowth. Sadly, Fiona’s sparkling white fur rendered her conspicuous against the drab winter landscape. She felt so different from her brown and grey sisters and brothers of the Fox family. Especially now, when most of them had taken to their warm dens, leaving her to wander the forest alone.
“But I naturally assumed you had walked so long and played so hard that you had grown heavy-eyed and were too sleepy to see me home,” replied Mrs. Martin.
“Well, to tell the truth, I have felt a little sleepy; but still I should not miss the pleasure of your company on any account, and I will gladly go round by the Proud Castle with you. You see I am not afraid of the grey goose and her party,” added Fiona, smiling, “now that the snows are on the ground.”
But Mrs. Martin shook her head and widened her eyes in amazement. “Surely, where are your wits?” she exclaimed. Would you enter that lonely place where folks admire themselves so much? As for the grey goose and her haughty daughters, they would never forgive you for letting them be cast into the shade, which you cannot help doing. They are proud of their fine shapes and courtly manners. Do not play Sir Francis, dear Fiona. Indeed, I would not go there after sundown if I were you,” repeated Mrs. Martin.
“What harm will it do to see how they live?” said Fiona, who had some curiosity to find out whether they were as proud and particular at home as they were over the earth and elsewhere.
So before her friend had even turned the first corner with her, away trotted Fiona towards the Proud Castle. The snow lay smooth and white over the ground; the feast which the naughty little elves had made was spread neatly on the snow, and the only sign of mischief done was that the snow had been quickly softened by wreaths of hot vapour from the rich meat. The grey goose and her darling young ladies were just raising their skirts and alighting on the ground.
“Thank you, good Greenland albatross, I would rather receive my company alone than bring some outsider to interrupt our party,” France Goose politely refused her offer of companionship.
Now Mrs. Martin knew well enough that if Mrs. France or any of her daughters flew alone or only with one of her sisters, they would soon be undone; and speaking of her as “the Greenland albatross,” as she fancied that her guest came out of unknown regions of the earth, in order to intimidate the grey goose, was certainly a very good thing to do.
“Truly the Greenland albatross is a very strange bird,” she said, smiling gently to herself; and shrugging meaningly, she flew on her way towards the snug warm nest of the Wild-ducks at the Lake.
“It is really of no use,” she said to herself; “she lifts herself more above the clouds every day.”
By this time the large family party was walking up and down the great hall; the long table between the dark-green baize and sparkling little lights hung over with crowns and nodding plumes, was as far above them all as the sky from this earth, and round the great lintel-lamp, the shiny metal balls which hung down, sparkling and twinkling like a multitude of mirrors, confused a little when you looked straight at them. So to and fro the Grey Goose and her daughters went, the youngest and prettiest looking here, and the eldest there, examining every little corner. They were the only birds in the whole world who dared act like that; and the Goose was telling her daughters how every Christmas and New Year for the last fifteen years, visitors had been surprised to see them going about the hall like that.
Of course the swans, the wild-geese, all the resistant classes, the downy pigeons, the kingfishers of separate kingdoms in the forest and on the lake, had probably received the same impression, but it was one of those little things which makes life pleasant and agreeable.
The youngest and prettiest, nicknamed Pretty-white, had been performing some unusual antics to amuse herself, when she suddenly pricked up her ears and stretched out her neck. “There comes a fox!” she quacked.
But it was only a big snow-drift that some of the earth-smoky grey-black clouds, which had come floating from the North Sea, pressed and weathered into a rounded figure.
“See how fast the grains of snow fall from her tail and sir-backed, and how slyly she grins whilst doing so! She will never reach our dwelling,” cried the Grey Goose, nodding. “Yes, all the same, we ought to forgive even our enemies their failings. When one is laid here for several centuries on pious Sunday and holiday evenings, then you see the good side of people. One does not deny the advantages of a fine form, but—yet more, still more; and we let the other failings fall into oblivion as much as we are able.”
But the Snowy Fox held her head sideways and looked quite depressed. She came nearer and nearer, peeping about in the twinkling of several little stars. She set her foot on the step of the stairs; she ceased smiling and was actually going to push the door open; the little bolts missed her, for they were daintily forged and finished with hot iron.
“Pray come out quickly,” quacked the Goose; but she had already broken the shavings hanging from a corner of each panel down to the floor. Come out and direct us, if possible, onto any one of those who fell from the body of Danish King Knut, out of his wine-barrel whilst sailing, which continually came ashore here. Denmark goes under water entirely the first time. Would not that surprise people, think you? Come as quick as possible, your aid is urgently necessary.”
“Oh dear, how tiresome!” said Fiona. She looked over the page with the minutes and never opened her mouth, neither at the three bumps upon her breast nor at the Northern lights coming out so strangely. The next day she gnawed away one of the great arches and a small ice-bump which came into its place; and that is why they travelled so sluggishly and tortuously the second time, particularly over the meadow.
“I really did not think it would get fixed. You empty this small boat yourself; ‘twould quite make you clean,” said she.
“Mais, de par le diable, ets vole ruby—where’s the ruby, Madame?” shouted the Terrapin, in her hoarsest croak, when she read what Fiona had taken in bad French notes; “the ruby, Madame, when your ladyship would soon dedicate five-capon with them!”
And with her claw she drew the edge of a comet from a burning spectators, which bad-off elephants were carrying to bed some seventy thousand years ago! “A te’ magnifique, Madame; it burnt a whole in our effects when we got it.”
“It looks beautiful for my hunting-cap,” replied practically Fiona.
But you and I have a different taste, and do not think hunting-caps of polished brass make an acceptably pretty appearance. Verwaltung.