A Tale For The Tinies

Waikato Times, Volume 124, Issue 20740, 25 February 1939, Page 7 (Supplement)

A Tale For The Tinies

THE MAGIC DUSTER HELENA said she was tried, but her mother said she. was lazy. Selena was a rich merchant’s daughter, and her father brought her presents from all over the world. She never did work, and her mother never scolded her, though sometimes she said she was lazy. “ Oh dear, how tired I am,” sighed Selena. She leaned over the marble windowsill and her two pigtails fell down over the stone wall like ropes of gold; and then, suddenly, she heard a voice | singing. Selena listened, for it was ; a strong, joyous voice, but a very strange song. And this is what she heard. “Who -wants dusters, blue or preen? Dusters flt for any Queen. Do you know that all the dust. All the fluff and all the rust, That you gently shake away Comes again to you one day? It Is woven into dreams And comes sliding down In streams, From the moon so pure and bright. Like shining rays of silver light, ir you never dust or sweep, No sweet dreams will grace your sleep. Magic dusters given away, Dusters, dusters, red or grey! ” Selena caught up her gown, darted downstairs, and fled through the garden to the gates which led to the highway. “ Hi 1 ” called Selena, for she saw a pair of legs disappear round the corner, and something blue flutter on tho wind. Selena wanted one of those dusters so much that if the pedlar had not turned back she would have most certainly run after him, although she never walked in the streets but drove in a coach. Now the pedlar was a handsome young man, with a pole on his shoulder from which the dusters hung, and he wore a high pointed hat from which long streamers of fibbon floated. He was brown with the sun, and his eyes twinkled, and his toes peeped out of his long pointed shoes. Selena had never seen 6uch a queer young man. “ A blue duster, please,” said Selena. The pedlar gave her one and watted for the money. “ Oh,” said Selena, ** I thought they were given away.” “ I only want a trifle,” laughed the pedlar. “ I must live, Princess.” Selena rather liked being cabled a princess, so she took a beautiful ring from her little white finger and gave it to the pedlar. “Shall I dream sweetly?” asked Selena. "I never do; it’s always about mice or spiders dropping from my hair.” "Beautiful Princess,” replied the peddler, “your dreams shall be about But he never told her what they would be about, because the merchant drove up in his golden coach at that moment and was so amazed to behold his lovely daughter speaking to a ragged young man with yards of coloured ribbon floating from his hat that he whisked Selena into the house and told her never to talk to peddlers again. "But I’ve got the duster, and that’s the chief thing,” thought Selena. That night Selena went to bed with the duster under her pillow and, would you believe it,-she didn’t get a wink of sleep all night. By morning she wondered whether the peddler was a fraud. The next night she certainly slept, but she had a horrible nightmare, and thought that a tiger was chasing her and snapping at the heels of her little gold shoes. Her mother said it was indigestion, but Selena knew it was that blue duster. However, she determined to give it one more chance, so she put it under her pillow again, and a terrible thing happened. As she was falling asleep a mouse ran across her silken coverlet. Selena screamed and awoke the whole household, and there was a great commotion. Selena had all her furniture moved into another room in the middle of the night, and in the morning she was in a very bad temper. “Magic dusters, indeed!” thought Selena. “ Oh, if I could only find that peddler I ” All day she listened for his voice, and when she went out her eyes were always looking for streams of ribbon floating in the wind. The next afternoon, when she was in the garden, she heard the strange words: “Who wants dusters, blue and green? Dusters flt for any queen. Do you know that all the dust—” Without waiting to hear more, Selena darted out on the highroad with her own duster in her hand and her blue eyes blazing with anger. How i she scolded that young man! She , talked and talked, and said she would I have her ring back; and at last he got | in a word edgeways. " You have done no dusting, Princess,” he cried. “If you never dust nor sweep, no sweet dreams will grace your sleep!” ■ Then Selena swished her long silken skirt, bounced into the house, and was more angry than ever. But she dusted lier room from ceiling to floor just to see if anything 1 would happen, and sue was so tired

afterwards that she slept all night, had wonderful dreams, and awoke in the morning feeling as fresh as a daisy. The next day she did more dusting and a little gardening; the next, some dusting and cooking; then she asked her mother to teach her to sew; then she dusted her father s study, and every night she had sweet dreams. One day she wanted to help her father with his accounts, but as she could not add up she asked the merchant to teach her. “ What has happened to you, Selena? ” he asked, amazed. “ Oh, well. I want to be useful,” replied Selena. “If you have no work to do you can’t be happy and have lovely dreams.” ‘‘Who told you that?” asked the merchant. Selena hung her head, and just at that moment she heard a voice singing: “Dusters; dusters, red and grey; Magic dusters given away!” Horror! the voice was at the front door. What woflld her father say? He didn’t like peddlers. She ran out to tell the young man to go. and behold! there was a splendid young prince standing on the threshold. “ Beautiful Sele.ua.” he said, “ Pve come to see if the duster gave you sweet dreams and to tell you a secret. Disguised as a peddler i have been tramping through the world looking for a queen. Er—you were very cross with the peddler, but —er would you like to be a queen? ” Poor Selena could only blush, and the prince laughed, and Selena was very glad that her father came hurrying out at that moment and asked the peddler prince to come in. And Selena married the prince, and they lived happily ever after. —Mabel L. Tyrrell.