The child's story. Once upon a time, a good many years ago,
there was a traveler, and he set out upon a journey. It was
a magic journey, and it would seem very long when he began it,
and very short when he got half way through. He traveled along a rather
dark path for some little time, without meeting anything, until at last he
came to a beautiful child. So he said to the child, what do
you do here? And the child said, I am always at play.
Come and play with me. So he played with the child the whole day
long, and they were very merry. The sky was so blue, the
sun was so bright, the water was so sparkling, the leaves were so
green, and they had heard such singing birds and saw so many butterflies that
everything was beautiful. This was in fine mother. When it rained, I
loved to watch the falling drops and to smell the fresh scents. When it
blew, it was delightful to listen to the wind, and fancy what it
said as it came rushing from its home. Where was that? They wondered,
whistling and howling, driving the clouds before it, bending the trees,
rumbling in the chimneys, shaking the house and making the sea roar and fury.
But when it snowed, that was the best of all. For they
liked nothing so well as to look up at the white flakes falling fast and
thick like down from the breasts of millions of white birds, and to see
how smooth and deep the drift was, and to listen to the hush upon
the paths and roads. They had plenty of the finest toys in the world,
and the most astonishing picture books, all about scimitars and slippers and turbans
and dwarfs and giants and genie and fairies and bluebeards and beans, stalks and
riches and caverns and forests and Valentines and orsons, and all new and all
true. But one day, all of a sudden, the traveler lost the
child. He called him over and over again, but got no answer.
So he went upon his road and went on for a little while without meeting
anything, until at last he came to a handsome boy. So he said
to the boy, what do you do here? And the boy said,
I'm always learning. Come and learn with me. So he learned with that
boy about Jupiter and Juno, and the Greeks and the romans, and I
don't know what, and learned more than I could tell were he either,
for he soon forgot a great deal of it. But they were not always
learning. They had the merriest of games that ever were played. They rode
upon the river in the summer, and skated on the ice in the winter.
They were active afoot and active on horseback at cricket and all games at
bawl, at prisoner's base, hare and hounds follow my leader, and more
sports than I can think of. Nobody could beat them. They had holidays
too, and twelfth cakes and parties where they danced till midnight, and real
theaters where they saw palaces of real gold and silver rise out of the real
earth, and saw all the wonders of the world at once. As to
friends, they had such dear friends, and so many of them that I
want to reckon them up. They were all so young, like the handsome
boy, and were never to be strange to one another all their lives through.
Still, one day, in the midst of all these pleasures, the
traveler lost the boy as he had lost the child, and after calling him
in vain, went on upon his journey. So we went on for a
little while without seeing anything, until at last he came to a young man.
So he said to the young man, what do you do here?
And the young man said, I'm always in love, Come and love with
me. So he went away with that young man, and presently they came
to one of the prettiest girls that was ever seen, just like Fanny in
the corner over there. And she had eyes like Fanny, and hair like
Fanny, and dimples like Fanny's. And she laughed and colored just as Fanny
does when I'm talking about her. So the young man fell in love directly,
just as somebody I won't mention the first time he came here did with
Fanny. Well, he was teased sometimes, just as somebody used to be
by Fanny. And they quarreled sometimes, just as somebody and Fanny used to
quarrel. And they made it up, and sat in the dark and wrote
letters every day, and never were happy asunder, and were always looking out
for one another, pretending not to. They were engaged at Christmas time and
sat close to one another by the fire, and were going to be married
very soon, all exactly like somebody I won't mention and Fanny. Hmm.
But the traveler lost them one day, as he had lost the rest of
his friends, and after calling them to come back, which they never did,
went on upon his journey. So he went on for a little while
without seeing anything, until at last he came to a middle aged gentleman.
So he said to the gentleman, what are you doing here? And his
answer was, I'm always busy, Come and be busy with me. So
he began to be very busy with that gentleman, and they went on through
the wood together. The whole journey was through a wood, only it had
been open and green at first, like a wooden spring, and now began
to be thick and dark like a wooden summer. Some of the little trees
that had come out earliest were even turning brown. The gentleman was not alone,
but had a lady of about the same age with him, who was
his wife, and they had children who were with them too. So they
all went on together through the wood, cutting down the trees and making a
path through the branches in the fallen leaves, and carrying burdens and working hard.
Sometimes they came to a long green avenue that opened into deeper woods.
Then they would hear another very little distant voice crying, Father, Father,
I am another child, Stop for me. And presently they would see a
very little figure, growing larger as it came along, running to join them.
When it came up, they all crowded round it, kissed and welcomed
it, and then they all went on together. Sometimes they came to several
avenues at once, and then they all stood still, and one of the
children said, Father, I'm going to see and another said, father,
I'm going to India, and another father, I'm going to seek my fortune
where I can, and another father, I am going to heaven. So,
with many tears and parting, they went solitary down those avenues, each
child upon its way, and the child who went to heaven rose into the
golden air and vanished. Whenever these partings happened, the traveler looked at the
gentleman and saw him glance up at the sky above the trees, where the
day was beginning to decline in the sunset come on. He saw too that
his hair was turning gray. But they could never rest long, for they
had their journey to perform, and it was necessary for them to be always
busy. At last, there had been so many partings that there were no
children left, and only the traveler, the gentleman, and the lady went
upon their way in company. And now the wood was yellow, not brown,
and the leaves, even of the forest trees, began to fall.
So they came to an avenue that was darker than the rest, and were
pressing forward on their journey without looking down it. When the lady stopped.
My husband said, the lady, I am called. They listened, and
they heard a voice a long way down the avenue say, mother, Mother.
It was the voice of the first child who had said I'm going to
heaven. And the father said, I pray not yet. The sun set
is very near. I pray not yet. But the voice cried mother,
Mother, without minding him, though his hair was now quite white and tears
were on his face. Then the mother, who was already drawn into the
shade of the dark avenue, moving away, with her arms still a round
his neck, kissed him and said, and my dearest, I am summoned,
and I go. And she was gone, and the traveler and he
were left alone together. And they went on and on together until they came
very near the end of the wood, so near that they could see the
sun set shining red before them through the trees. Yet once more, while
he broke his way among the branches, the traveler lost his friend. He
called and called, but there was no reply. When he passed out of
the wood and saw the peaceful sign going down upon a white, purple prospect,
he came to an old man sitting on a fallen tree. So he
said to the old man, what do you do? And the old man
said, with a calm smile, I am always remembering. Come and remember
with me. So the traveler sat down by the side of the old man,
face to face with the serene sunset, and all of his friends came
softly back and stood around him. The beautiful child, the handsome boy,
the young man in love, the father, mother, and children. Every
one of them was there, and he had lost nothing. So he loved
them all and was kind and forbearing with them all, and was always pleased
to watch them all. And they all honored and loved him. And I
think the traveler must be yourself, dear grandfather, because this won't you do
to us? And what we do to you? And of the Child's Story
by Charles Dickens