BLUNDER BY LOUISE E. CHOLLET I Blunder was going to the Wishing-Gate, to wish for a pair of Shetland ponies, and a little coach, like Tom Thumb's. Of course you can have your wish, if you once get there. But the thing is to find the gate; for it is not a great gate, with a tall marble pillar on each side, and a sign over the top, like this: WISHING-GATE It is just an old stile, made of three sticks. Put up two fingers, cross them on the top with another finger, and you have it exactly,-the way it looks, I mean,-a worm-eaten stile, in a meadow; and as there are plenty of old stiles in meadows, how are you to know which is the one? Blunder's fairy godmother knew, but then she could not tell him. She could only direct him to follow the road, and ask the way of the first owl he met. Over and over she charged him,-for Blunder was a very careless little boy, and seldom found anything,- -"Be sure you don't miss him,-be sure you don't pass him by." So far Blunder had come on very well, for the road was straight; but at the turn it forked. Should he go through the wood, or turn to the right? There was an owl nodding in a tall oak-tree, the first owl Blunder had seen; but he was a little afraid to wake him up, for Blunder's fairy godmother had told him that the owl sat up all night to study the habits of frogs and mice, and knew everything but what went on in the daylight, under his nose. He could think of nothing better to say than, "Good Owl, will you please show me the way to the Wishing-Gate?" "Eh! what's that?" cried the owl, starting out of his nap. "Have you brought me a frog?" "No," said Blunder, "I did not know that you would like one. Can you tell me the way to the Wishing-Gate?" "Wishing-Gate! Wishing-Gate!" hooted the owl, very angry. "Winks and naps! how dare you wake me for such a thing as that? Do you take me for a mile-stone? Follow your nose, sir, follow your nose!"-and ruffling up his feathers, the owl was asleep again in a moment. But how could Blunder follow his nose? His nose would turn to the right or take him through the woods, whichever way his legs went. "What was the use in asking the owl," thought Blunder, "if this was all?" While he hesitated, a chipmunk came skurrying down the path, and, seeing Blunder, stopped short with a little squeak. "Good Chipmunk," said Blunder, "can you tell me the way to the Wishing-Gate?" 66 "I can't, indeed," answered the chipmunk politely. What with getting in nuts, and the care of a young family, I have so little time to visit anything! But if you will follow the brook, you will find an old water-sprite who can tell you. He lives under a slanting stone, over which the water pours all day with a noise like, wabble! wabble!" II So Blunder went on up the brook, and, seeing nothing of the water-sprite, or the slanting stone, was just saying to himself, "I am sure I don't know where he is, I can't find it," when he spied a frog sitting on a wet stone. "Good Frog," asked Blunder, “can you "can you tell me the way to the Wishing-Gate?" "I can not," said the frog. "I am very sorry, but the fact is, I am an artist. Young as I am, my voice is already highly praised at our concerts, and I have no time for such things. But in the pine-tree over there, you will find an old He is a great traveler, and I am sure can crow. help you." "I don't know where the pine is, I am sure I can never find him," answered Blunder. But still he went on up the brook. Hot and tired, and out of patience at seeing neither crow nor pine, he sat down under a great tree to rest. There he heard tiny voices, squabbling. "Get out! Go away, I tell you! It has been knock! knock! knock! at my door all day, till I am tired out. First a wasp, and then a bee, and wasp, and then another bee, and Go away! I won't let another one in then another now you. to-day." And looking about him, Blunder spied a bee, quarreling with a morning-glory elf, who was shutting up the morning-glory in his face. "Elf, do you know which is the way to the Wishing-Gate?" asked Blunder. "No," said the elf. "But if you will keep on in this path, you will meet the Dream-man, coming down from fairy-land. He will have his bags of dreams on his shoulder. If anybody can tell you about the Wishing-Gate, he can." "But how can I find him?" asked Blunder. "I don't know, I am sure," answered the elf, "unless you should look for him." So there was no help for it but to go on; and presently Blunder passed the Dream-man, asleep under a witch-hazel. |