Wonder-Box Tales

Jean Ingelow
Wonder-Box Tales, by Jean
Ingelow,

The Project Gutenberg eBook, Wonder-Box Tales, by Jean Ingelow,
Illustrated by Diantha W. Horne
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Title: Wonder-Box Tales
Author: Jean Ingelow

Release Date: April 8, 2007 [eBook #21014]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
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WONDER-BOX TALES***
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The Editha Series
WONDER-BOX TALES
by
JEAN INGELOW
With Illustrations by Diantha W. Horne

H. M. Caldwell Co. Publishers New York & Boston
Copyright, 1902 By Dana Estes & Company All rights reserved

[Illustration: "'TO BE SURE I CAN,' REPLIED THE LARK."]

CONTENTS
The Ouphe of the Wood
The Fairy Who Judged Her Neighbors
The Prince's Dream
The Water-lily
A Lost Wand

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
"'To be sure I can,' replied the Lark"
"So he sat down as close to the fire as he could, and spread out his
hands to the flames"
"Coming home on top of it, driving the four gray horses himself"
"While she was fitting on her shoes, she saw the Lark's friend"
"Then he reclined beside the chafing-dish and inhaled the heavy
perfume"
"'I could not do so,' he replied, 'only that as I go on I keep lightening it'"
"Lived on the borders of one of the great American forests"
"The next moment a beautiful little creature stood upon his hand"
"'Oh, don't go,' cried Hulda. 'I am going up-stairs to fetch my wand'"
"The pedlar had now sunk up to his waist"

WONDER-BOX TALES

THE OUPHE[1] OF THE WOOD
"An Ouphe!" perhaps you exclaim, "and pray what might that be?"
[Footnote 1: Ouphe, pronounced "oof," is an old-fashioned word for
goblin or elf.]
An Ouphe, fair questioner,--though you may never have heard of
him,--was a creature well known (by hearsay, at least) to your

great-great-grandmother. It was currently reported that every forest had
one within its precincts, who ruled over the woodmen, and exacted
tribute from them in the shape of little blocks of wood ready hewn for
the fire of his underground palace,--such blocks as are bought at shops
in these degenerate days, and called in London "kindling."
It was said that he had a silver axe, with which he marked those trees
that he did not object to have cut down; moreover, he was supposed to
possess great riches, and to appear but seldom above ground, and when
he did to look like an old man in all respects but one, which was that he
always carried some green ash-keys about with him which he could not
conceal, and by which he might be known.
Do I hear you say that you don't believe he ever existed? It matters not
at all to my story whether you do or not. He certainly does not exist
now. The Commissioners of Woods and Forests have much to answer
for, if it was they who put an end to his reign; but I do not think they
did; it is more likely that the spelling-book used in woodland districts
disagreed with his constitution.
After this short preface please to listen while I tell you that once in a
little black-timbered cottage, at the skirts of a wood, a young woman
sat before the fire rocking her baby, and, as she did so, building a castle
in the air: "What a good thing it would be," she thought to herself, "if
we were rich!"
It had been a bright day, but the evening was chilly; and, as she
watched the glowing logs that were blazing on her hearth, she wished
that all the lighted part of them would turn to gold.
She was very much in the habit--this little wife--of building castles in
the air, particularly when she had nothing else to do, or her husband
was late in coming home to his supper. Just as she was thinking how
late he was there was a tap at the door, and an old man walked in, who
said:
"Mistress, will you give a poor man a warm at your fire?"

"And welcome," said the young woman, setting him a chair.
So he sat down as close to the fire as he could, and spread out his hands
to the flames.
[Illustration: "SO HE SAT DOWN AS CLOSE TO THE FIRE AS HE
COULD, AND SPREAD OUT
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