Everybodys Lonesome | Page 4

admiringly, when they were back in the cozy
drawing-room and Godmother was serving coffee from the copper
percolator.
"Not all my life, but most of it--yes," said Godmother. "It took me
some time to find the talisman, the charm, the secret--or whatever you
want to call it--of having a happy time."
"But you found it?"
Godmother flushed as if she were a little bit embarrassed. "Well," she
said, "I found one--at last--that worked, for me."
"I wish I could find one," sighed Mary Alice, wistfully.
"I'm going to try to give you mine," said Godmother, "or at least to

share it with you. And all I ask of you is, that if it 'works' for you, you'll
pass it on to some one else."
"Oh, I will!" cried Mary Alice. "What is it?"
"Wait a minute! I have to tell you about me, first--so you'll
understand."
"Please do!" urged Mary Alice. "I'd love to hear."
"Well, you see, when the invitations to my christening were sent out,
my folks forgot the fairies, I guess. And as I grew up, I found that I
hadn't been gifted with wealth or beauty or talents or charm----"
"I know," Mary Alice broke in.
Godmother looked surprised.
"I mean, I know how that feels," Mary Alice explained.
"Then you know I was pretty unhappy until--something happened. I
met a charming woman, once, who was so sweet and sympathetic that
my heart just opened to her as flowers to sunshine; and I told her how I
felt. 'Well, that was an oversight!' she said, 'but you know what to do
about it, don't you?' I said I didn't. 'Why!' she said, 'the fairies had their
gifts all ready to bring, and when they were not invited to the party,
what would they naturally do?' 'Give them to some one else!' I cried. I
shall never forget how reproachfully she looked at me. 'That is a purely
human trick!' she said; 'fairies are never guilty of it. When they have
something for you, they keep it for you till you get it. If they were not
asked to your party, it's your business to hunt them out and get your
gifts. Somewhere in the world your own is waiting for you.' That was a
magic thought: Somewhere in the world your own is waiting for you. I
couldn't get away from it; it filled my mind, waking and asleep. And I
set out to find if it was true."
"And was it?"

"Well, it must have been. For I've found some of my own, surely, and I
believe I shall find more. And oh! the joy it is to look and look,
believing that you will surely find. I haven't found wealth, nor beauty,
nor accomplishments--perhaps I didn't look in the right places for any
of those--but I've found something I wouldn't trade for all the others. It
is all I have to bequeath you, dear. But the beautiful part of this bequest
is, I don't have to die to enrich you with it, nor do I have to impoverish
myself to give it away. I just whisper something in your ear--and then
you go and see if it isn't so."
"Whisper it now, please," begged Mary Alice, going over to her
godmother and putting her ear close.
"Oh, no," said Godmother, kissing Mary Alice's ear, "this isn't the time
at all. And it's fatal to tell till the right time comes."
And no teasing would avail to make her change her mind.

III
FINDING THE FIRST FAIRY
The next few days were spent in sightseeing; and Mary Alice would
never have believed there could be any one so enchanting to see sights
with as Godmother. They looked in all the wonderful shop-windows
and "chose" what they would take from each if a fairy suddenly invited
them to take their choice. No fairy did; but they hardly noticed that.
Then they'd go and "poke" in remnant boxes on the ends of counters in
the big department stores, and unearth bits of trimming and of lace with
which Godmother, who was clever with her needle and "full of ideas,"
showed Mary Alice how to put quite transforming touches on her
clothes.
They visited art galleries, and Godmother knew things about the
pictures that made them all fascinating. Instead of saying, "Interesting
composition, that!" or "This man was celebrated for his chiaroscuro,"

Godmother was full of human stories of the struggles of the painters
and their faithfulness to ideals; and she could stand in front of a canvas
by almost any master, and talk to Mary Alice about the painter and the
conditions of his life and love and longing when he painted this picture,
in a way that made Mary Alice feel as if she'd like to shake the