Winnie, a little girl of nine years, was sitting on a bench watching the fire-flies flit about the garden and listening to the sweet sounds of the evening, when, looking round, she noticed that out of the leaves of a huge willow tree which was growing close by, two long, thin, glittering branches grew toward her, waving gently backwards and forwards as if beckoning her to come near and listen to what they might have to say.
Winnie left her seat and went up to the tree, and now the willow, by means of the long, thin branches, told her a wonderful story full of interest and magic. Winnie listened with eager ears, and when it was finished she sat down for a minute or two to think over what she had heard, when lo and behold! from each of the countless leaves of which the willow was composed there fell a bright green star, and with one accord all the stars turned towards Winnie and said:
“We are the wishes of the willow, and come to help you to help others. But remember this, every wish you grant to others you must give to some person so that it is not of the slightest use to yourself.”
So saying, the green stars fluttered about in the air for a minute or two and then disappeared, darting down into the heart of the girl and dwelling there.
Then Winnie jumped up feeling strong and active, and determined to try how best she could help others. She was not long finding a neighbour who needed her assistance, for void of clothes, money, or food, there was a poor widow living not far off. Winnie soon heard that the poor woman was unwell, and had a large family of hungry children, and she instantly rose from her seat and determined to act.
The house was a small one, and the widow close by. At first Winnie merely worked herself, but soon remembering that wishes were plentiful, she needed not to do everything by herself. So wishing that some kind people might go there with their baskets and help the widow with food, clothes, or money, she ran to ask them. Her wish was granted; in a very few minutes baskets of various kinds were collected, and as they were too heavy for the little girl to carry, she simply wished that the people might take them where they were most wanted, and she accompanied them to do what she could to help.
But now that her first wish had been realised, she remembered what it had said—“every wish you grant to others you must give to some person so that it is not of the slightest use to yourself.” She therefore decided to give her remaining wishes to the widow and her children, certain that if she gave them to herself they would become her own property.
Then running on before, her little feet making all haste to get there before the baskets, she told the widow all the good people were coming very soon, and as she did so she made a wish that they would never cease till all the children were perfectly happy.
And now instead of coming in groups as before, the people came on as fast as their legs could carry them, laden with food, clothes, and money, and it was a curious thing that as soon as a person came within eight of the house he immediately felt that it was his duty to help others who were far more needy than himself. In a very short time indeed many carriages brought the rich, and then they gave so largely and with so much kindness that they quite eclipsed all the good acts of those who had come on foot.
Poor this one was, and poor that one was, that was quite true; but every one of the people who came between them and their children were far poorer, and they slowly realising this, gave their money without a single murmur.
Now some had come who had provisions to sell and who were present merely in search of a market; but instead of selling they gave everything, and went away without a penny; and now others gave fire wood, others agistment (still without money), and now at last they ceased to appear, not for weariness or loss of wealth, but sheer force of numbers.
Now the children were dressed in silk and velvet which was shedding gold lace about; and as for the mother, she was seated in a large arm chair, with a rupee or two on her lap, sufficiently to buy a suitable house to live in; but she was at this moment equally pleased with a pair of new boots and shoes for each child.
But closely watching with all his eyes was one among the crowd—a tall thin man, who swayed from side to side as if uncertain on which to bestow his ill-293-gotten wealth. At last he stepped to her and said, “Would you exchange £1,001 for this little girl, my only child?” So saying he pointed to his own child, as fat as he could be, a little farthing “down a parched pea,” to coin an old saying.
“If she suits me,” said the widow, “I shall be glad, but not under a twelve-month, till she has eaten that weight of food.”
“Then I must put my farthing back in my pocket,” said he, alluding to the “down a parched pea,” or the one penny he hoped to obtain for her.
So go away he did, and everyone had something to eat, and all the children played games to disperse the monotony, and day followed day, and Randall escorted by Sylvia, or Wendy, or any of the children in turn, punctually appeared.
So night fell and Winnie came away, and this was so far like the other days which had appeared before—only there was a new light and interest.
“Happy day! happy day!” shouted Rosi; and Randall pulled her ears and said, “Little mad-cap-smoot.”
“O what can I do to make somebody else happy?” said Wendy ruminating as she sat in bed, and all were watching her with bated breath.