Cupids Arrows: A mini-romance mythological paranormal fable (Forbidden Angel Series Book 2)

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As she fled she dropped her veil. The lioness after drinking at the spring turned to retreat to the woods, and seeing the veil on the ground, tossed and rent it with her bloody mouth. Pyramus, having been delayed, now approached the place of meeting. He saw in the sand the footsteps of the lion, and the colour fled from his cheeks at the sight. Presently he found the veil all rent and bloody. Thou, more worthy of life than I, hast fallen the first victim. I will follow. I am the guilty cause, in tempting thee forth to a place of such peril, and not being myself on the spot to guard thee.

Come forth, ye lions, from the rocks, and tear this guilty body with your teeth. The blood spurted from the wound, and tinged the white mulberries of the tree all red; and sinking into the earth reached the roots, so that the red colour mounted through the trunk to the fruit. By this time Thisbe, still trembling with fear, yet wishing not to disappoint her lover, stepped cautiously forth, looking anxiously for the youth, eager to tell him the danger she had escaped.

When she came to the spot and saw the changed colour of the mulberries she doubted whether it was the same place. While she hesitated she saw the form of one struggling in the agonies of death. She started back, a shudder ran through her frame as a ripple on the face of the still water when a sudden breeze sweeps over it. But as soon as she recognized her lover, she screamed and beat her breast, embracing the lifeless body, pouring tears into its wounds, and imprinting kisses on the cold lips.

Answer me, Pyramus; it is your own Thisbe that speaks. Hear me, dearest, and lift that drooping head! She saw her veil stained blood and the scabbard empty of its sword. I will follow thee in death, for I have been the cause; and death which alone could part us shall not prevent my joining thee. And ye, unhappy parents of us both, deny us not our united request. As love and death have joined us, let one tomb contain us. And thou, tree, retain the marks of slaughter.

Let thy berries still serve for memorials of our blood. Her parents ratified her wish, the gods also ratified it. The two bodies were buried in one sepulchre, and the tree ever after brought forth purple berries, as it does to this day. Moore, in the "Sylph's Ball," speaking of Davy's Safety Lamp, is reminded of the wall that separated Thisbe and her lover:. The wall he sets 'twixt Flame and Air, Like that which barred young Thisbe's bliss, Through whose small holes this dangerous pair May see each other, but not kiss.

In Mickle's translation of the "Lusiad" occurs the following allusion to the story of Pyramus and Thisbe, and the metamorphosis of the mulberries. The poet is describing the Island of Love:. The cherry here in shining crimson glows, And stained with lovers' blood, in pendent rows, The mulberries o'erload the bending boughs.

If any of our young readers can be so hard-hearted as to enjoy a laugh at the expense of poor Pyramus and Thisbe, they may find an opportunity by turning to Shakespeare's play of the "Midsummer Night's Dream," where it is most amusingly burlesqued. Cephalus was a beautiful youth and fond of manly sports. He would rise before the dawn to pursue the chase. Aurora saw him when she first looked forth, fell in love with him, and stole him away But Cephalus was just married to a charming wife whom he devotedly loved. Her name was Procris. She was a favourite of Diana, the goddess of hunting, who had given her a dog which could outrun every rival, and a javelin which would never fail of its mark; and Procris gave these presents to her husband.

Cephalus was so happy in his wife that he resisted all the entreaties of Aurora, and she finally dismissed him in displeasure, saying, "Go, ungrateful mortal, keep your wife, whom, if I am not much mistaken, you will one day be very sorry you ever saw again. Cephalus returned, and was as happy as ever in his wife and his woodland sports.

Now it happened some angry deity had sent a ravenous fox to annoy the country; and the hunters turned out in great strength to capture it. Their efforts were all in vain; no dog could run it down; and at last they came to Cephalus to borrow his famous dog, whose name was Lelaps. No sooner was the dog let loose than he darted off, quicker than their eye could allow him. If they had not seen his footprints in the sand they would have thought he flew. Cephalus and others stood on a hill and saw the race. The fox tried every art; he ran in a circle and turned on his track, the dog close upon him, with open jaws, snapping at his heels, but biting only the air.

Cephalus was about to use his javelin, when suddenly he saw both dog and game stop instantly, The heavenly powers who had given both were not willing that either should conquer. In the very attitude of life and action they were turned into stone. So lifelike and natural did they look, you would have thought, as you looked at them, that one was going to bark, the other to leap forward. Cephalus, though he had lost his dog, still continued to take delight in the chase. He would go out at early morning, ranging the woods and hills unaccompanied by any one needing no help, for his javelin was a sure weapon in all cases.

Fatigued with hunting, when the sun got high he would seek a shady nook where a cool stream flowed, and, stretched on the grass, with his garments thrown aside, would enjoy the breeze. Sometimes he would say aloud, "Come, sweet breeze, come and fan my breast, come and, lily the heat that burns me. Love is credulous. Procris, at the sudden shock, fainted away. Presently recovering, she said, "It cannot be true; I will not believe it unless I myself am a witness to it. Then she stole out after him, and concealed herself in the place where the informer directed her.

Cephalus came as he was wont when tired with sport, and stretched himself on the green bank, saying, "Come, sweet breeze, come and fan me; you know how I love you! Supposing it some wild animal, he threw his javelin at the spot. A cry from his beloved Procris told him that the weapon had too surely met its mark.

He rushed to the place, and found her bleeding, and with sinking strength endeavouring to draw forth from the wound the javelin, her own gift. Cephalus raised her from the earth, strove to stanch the blood, and called her to revive and not to leave him miserable, to reproach himself with her death.

She opened her feeble eyes, and forced herself to utter these few words: "I implore you, if you have ever loved me, if I have ever deserved kindness at your hands, my husband, grant me this last request; do not marry that odious Breeze! She died; but her face wore a calm expression, and she looked pityingly and forgivingly on her husband when he made her understand the truth. Moore, in his "Legendary Ballads," has one on Cephalus and Procris, beginning thus:. While mute lay even the wild bee's hum, Nor breath could stir the aspen's hair, His song was still, 'Sweet Air, O come!

JUNO one day perceived it suddenly grow dark, and immediately suspected that her husband had raised a cloud to hide some of his doings that would not bear the light. She brushed away the cloud, and saw her husband on the banks of a glassy river, with a beautiful heifer standing near him.

Juno suspected the heifer's form concealed some fair nymph of mortal mould- as was, indeed, the case; for it was Io, the daughter of the river god Inachus, whom Jupiter had been flirting with, and, when he became aware of the approach of his wife, had changed into that form. Juno joined her husband, and noticing the heifer praised its beauty, and asked whose it was, and of what herd.

Jupiter, to stop questions, replied that it was a fresh creation from the earth. Juno asked to have it as a gift. What could Jupiter do? He was loath to give his mistress to his wife; yet how refuse so trifling a present as a simple heifer? He could not, without exciting suspicion; so he consented. The goddess was not yet relieved of her suspicions; so she delivered the heifer to Argus, to be strictly watched. Now Argus bad a hundred eyes in his head, and never went to sleep with more than two at a time, so that he kept watch of Io constantly He suffered her to feed through the day, and at night tied her up with a vile rope round her neck.

She would have stretched out her arms to implore freedom of Argus, but she had no arms to stretch out, and her voice was a bellow that frightened even herself. She saw her father and her sisters, went near them, and suffered them to pat her back, and heard them admire her beauty. Her father reached her a tuft of grass, and she licked the outstretched hand. She longed to make herself known to him and would have uttered her wish; but, alas! Inachus recognized it, and discovering that his daughter, whom he had long sought in vain, was hidden under this disguise, mourned over her, and, embracing her white neck, exclaimed, "Alas!

Jupiter was troubled at beholding the sufferings of his mistress, and calling, Mercury told him to go and despatch Argus. Mercury made haste, put his winged slippers on his feet, and cap on his head, took his sleep-producing wand, and leaped down from the heavenly towers to the earth. There he laid aside his wings, and kept only his wand, with which he presented himself as a shepherd driving his flock. As he strolled on he blew upon his pipes.

These were what are called the Syrinx or Pandean pipes. Argus listened with delight, for he had never seen the instrument before. There is no better place for your flocks to graze in than hereabouts, and here is a pleasant shade such as shepherds love. Among other stories, Mercury told him how the instrument on which he played was invented. You would have thought it was Diana herself, had you seen her in her hunting dress, only that her bow was of horn and Diana's of silver.

One day, as she was returning from the chase, Pan met her, told her just this, and added more of the same sort. She ran away, without stopping to hear his compliments, and he pursued till she came to the bank of the river, where be overtook her, and she had only time to call for help on her friends the water nymphs. They heard and consented. Pan threw his arms around what he supposed to be the form of the nymph and found he embraced only a tuft of reeds! As he breathed a sigh, the air sounded through the reeds, and produced a plaintive melody.

The god, charmed with the novelty and with the sweetness of the music, said, 'Thus, then, at least, you shall be mine. As his head nodded forward on his breast, Mercury with one stroke cut his neck through, and tumbled his head down the rocks. O hapless Argus! Juno took them and put them as ornaments on the tail of her peacock, where they remain to this day. But the vengeance of Juno was not yet satiated. She sent a gadfly to torment Io, who fled over the whole world from its pursuit.

She swam through the Ionian sea, which derived its name from her, then roamed over the plains of Illyria, ascended Mount Haemus, and crossed the Thracian strait, thence named the Bosphorus cowford , rambled on through Scythia, and the country of the Cimmerians, and arrived at last on the banks of the Nile. At length Jupiter interceded for her, and upon his promising not to pay her any more attentions Juno consented to restore her to her form. It was curious to see her gradually recover her former self.

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The coarse hairs fell from her body, her horns shrank up, her eyes grew narrower, her mouth shorter; hands and fingers came instead of hoofs to her forefeet; in fine there was nothing left of the heifer, except her beauty. At first she was afraid to speak, for fear she should low, but gradually she recovered her confidence and was restored to her father and sisters.

In a poem dedicated to Leigh Hunt, by Keats, the following allusion to the story of Pan and Syrinx occurs:. Telling us how fair trembling Syrinx fled Arcadian Pan, with such a fearful dread. Poor nymph- poor Pan- how he did weep to find Nought but a lovely sighing of the wind Along the reedy stream; a half-heard strain, Full of sweet desolation, balmy pain.

Callisto was another maiden who excited the jealousy of Juno, and the goddess changed her into a bear. Her hands grew rounded, became armed with crooked claws, and served for feet; her mouth, which Jove used to praise for its beauty, became a horrid pair of jaws; her voice, which if unchanged would have moved the heart to pity, became a growl, more fit to inspire terror. Yet her former disposition remained, and with continual groaning, she bemoaned her fate, and stood upright as well as she could, lifting up her paws to be, for mercy, and felt that Jove was unkind, though she could not tell him so.

Ah, how often, afraid to stay in the woods all night alone, she wandered about the neighbourhood of her former haunts; how often, frightened by the dogs, did she, so lately a huntress, fly in terror from the hunters! Often she fled from the wild beasts, forgetting that she was now a wild beast herself; and, bear as she was, was afraid of the bears. One day a youth espied her as he was hunting.

She saw him and recognized him as her own son, now grown a young man. She stopped and felt inclined to embrace him. As she was about to approach, he, alarmed, raised his hunting spear, and was on the point of transfixing her, when Jupiter, beholding, arrested the crime, and snatching, away both of them, placed them in the heavens as the Great and Little Bear. Juno was in a rage to see her rival so set in honour, and hastened to ancient Tethys and Oceanus, the powers of ocean, and in answer to their inquiries thus told the cause of her coming: "Do you ask why I, the queen of the gods, have left the heavenly plains and sought your depths?

Learn that I am supplanted in heaven- my place is given to another. You will hardly believe me; but look when night darkens the world, and you shall see the two of whom I have so much reason to complain exalted to the heavens, in that part where the circle is the smallest, in the neighborbood of the pole. Why should any one hereafter tremble at the thought of offending Juno when such rewards are the consequence of my displeasure? See what I have been able to effect!

I forbade her to wear the human form- she is placed among the stars! So do my punishments result- such is the extent of my power! Better that she should have resumed her former shape, as I permitted Io to do. Perhaps he means to marry her, and put me away! But you, my foster-parents, if you feel for me, and see with displeasure this unworthy treatment of me, show it, I beseech you, by forbidding this couple from coming into your waters.

The last star in the tail of the Little Bear is the Polestar, called also the Cynosure. Milton says:. Towers and battlements it sees Bosomed high in tufted trees, Where perhaps some beauty lies The Cynosure of neighbouring eyes. The reference here is both to the Polestar as the guide of mariners, and to the magnetic attraction of the North. He calls it also the "Star of Arcady," because Callisto's boy was named Arcas, and they lived in Arcadia. In "Comus," the brother, benighted in the woods, says:. Some gentle taper! Though a rush candle, from the wicker hole Of some clay habitation, visit us With thy long levelled rule of streaming light, And thou shalt be our star of Arcady, Or Tyrian Cynosure.

It was midday, and the sun stood equally distant from either goal, when young Actaeon, son of King Cadmus, thus addressed the youths who with him were hunting the stag in the mountains:. Now, while Phoebus parches the earth, let us put by our implements and indulge ourselves with rest. There was a valley thick enclosed with cypresses and pines, sacred to the huntress queen, Diana. In the extremity of the valley was a cave, not adorned with art, but nature had counterfeited art in its construction, for she had turned the arch of its roof with stones, as delicately fitted as if by the hand of man.

A fountain burst out from one side, whose open basin was bounded by a grassy rim. Here the goddess of the woods used to come when weary with hunting and lave her virgin limbs in the sparkling water. One day, having repaired thither with her nymphs, she handed her javelin, her quiver, and her bow to one, her robe to another, while a third unbound the sandals from her feet. Then Crocale, the most skilful of them, arranged her hair, and Nephele, Hyale, and the rest drew water in capacious urns. While the goddess was thus employed in the labours of the toilet, behold Actaeon, having quitted his companions, and rambling without any especial object, came to the place, led thither by his destiny.

As he presented himself at the entrance of the cave, the nymphs, seeing a man, screamed and rushed towards the goddess to hide her with their bodies, but she was taller than the rest and overtopped them all by a head. Such a colour as tinges the clouds at sunset or at dawn came over the countenance of Diana thus taken by surprise. Surrounded as she was by her nymphs, she yet turned half away, and sought with a sudden impulse for her arrows. As they were not at hand, she dashed the water into the face of the intruder, adding these words: "Now go and tell, if you can, that you have seen Diana unapparelled.

Fear took the place of his former boldness, and the hero fled. He could not but admire his own speed; but when he saw his horns in the water, "Ah, wretched me! He groaned, and tears flowed down the face which had taken the place of his own. Yet his consciousness remained. What shall he do? The latter he was afraid, the former he was ashamed to do. While he hesitated the dogs saw him. First Melampus, a Spartan dog, gave the signal with his bark, then Pamphagus, Dorceus, Lelaps, Theron, Nape, Tigris, and all the rest, rushed after him swifter than the wind.

Over rocks cliffs, through mountain gorges seemed impracticable, he fled and they followed. Where he had often chased the stag and cheered on his pack, his pack now chased him, cheered on by his huntsmen. He longed to cry out, "I am Actaeon; recognize your master! The air resounded with the bark of the dogs. Presently one fastened on his back, another seized his shoulder. While they held their master, the rest of the pack came up and buried their teeth in his flesh. He groaned,- not in a human voice, yet certainly not in a stag's,- and falling on his knees, raised his eyes, and would have raised his arms in supplication, if he had had them.

His friends and fellow-huntsmen cheered on the dogs, and looked everywhere for Actaeon calling on him to join the sport. At the sound of his name he turned his head, and heard them regret that he should be away. He earnestly wished he was. He would have been well pleased to see the exploits of his dogs, but to feel them was too much. They were all around him, rending and tearing; and it was not till they had torn his life out that the anger of Diana was satisfied.

Some thought the goddess in this instance more severe than was just, while others praised her conduct as strictly consistent with her virgin dignity. As usual, the recent event brought older ones to mind, and one of the bystanders told this story: "Some countrymen of Lycia once insulted the goddess Latona, but not with impunity. When I was young, my father, who had grown too old for active labours, sent me to Lycia to drive thence some choice oxen, and there I saw the very pond and marsh where the wonder happened.

Near by stood an ancient altar, black with the smoke of sacrifice and almost buried among the reeds. I inquired whose altar it might be, whether of Faunus or the Naiads, or some god of the neighbouring mountain, and one of the country people replied, 'No mountain or river god possesses this altar, but she whom royal Juno in her jealousy drove from land to land, denying her any spot of earth whereon to rear her twins. Bearing in her arms the infant deities, Latona reached this land, weary with her burden and parched with thirst. By chance she espied in the bottom of the valley this pond of clear water, where the country people were at work gathering willows and osiers.

The goddess approached, and kneeling on the bank would have slaked her thirst in the cool stream, but the rustics forbade her. Nature allows no one to claim as property the sunshine, the air, or the water. I come to take my share of the common blessing. Yet I ask it of you as a favour. I have no intention of washing my limbs in it, weary though they be, but only to quench my thirst. My mouth is so dry that I can hardly speak. A draught of water would be nectar to me; it would revive me, and I would own myself indebted to you for life itself. Let these infants move your pity, who stretch out their little arms as if to plead for me;" and the children, as it happened, were stretching out their arms.

But these clowns persisted in their rudeness; they even added jeers and threats of violence if she did not leave the place. Nor was this all. They waded into the pond and stirred up the mud with their feet, so as to make the water unfit to drink. Latona was so angry that she ceased to mind her thirst. She no longer supplicated the clowns, but lifting her hands to heaven exclaimed, "May they never quit that pool, but pass their lives there! They now live in the water, sometimes totally submerged, then raising their heads above the surface or swimming upon it.

Sometimes they come out upon the bank, but soon leap back again into the water. They still use their base voices in railing, and though they have the water all to themselves, are not ashamed to croak in the midst of it. Their voices are harsh, their throats bloated, their mouths have become stretched by constant railing, their necks have shrunk up and disappeared, and their heads are joined to their bodies. Their backs are green, their disproportioned bellies white, and in short they are now frogs, and dwell in the slimy pool. This story explains the allusion in one of Milton's sonnets, "On the detraction which followed upon his writing certain treatises.

As when those hinds that were transformed to frogs Railed at Latona's twin-born progeny, Which after held the sun and moon in fee. The persecution which Latona experienced from Juno is alluded to in the story. The tradition was that the future mother of Apollo and Diana, flying from the wrath of Juno, besought all the islands of the AEgean to afford her a place of rest, but all feared too much the potent queen of heaven to assist her rival. Delos alone consented to become the birthplace of the future deities. Delos was then a floating island; but when Latona arrived there, Jupiter fastened it with adamantine chains to the bottom of the sea, that it might be a secure resting-place for his beloved.

Byron alludes to Delos in his "Don Juan":. Where burning Sappho loved and sung, Where grew the arts of war and peace, Where Delos rose and Phoebus sprung! One day a schoolfellow laughed at the idea of his being the son of the god, and Phaeton went in rage and shame and reported it to his mother. If I speak falsely, let this be the last time I behold his light. But it needs not much labour to go and inquire for yourself; the land whence the Sun rises lies next to ours.

Go and demand of him whether he will own you as a son. He travelled to India, which lies directly in the regions of sunrise; and, full of hope and pride, approached the goal whence his parent begins his course. The palace of the Sun stood reared aloft on columns, glittering with gold and precious stones, while polished ivory formed the ceilings, and silver the doors. In the sea were the nymphs, some sporting in the waves, some riding on the backs of fishes, while others sat upon the rocks and dried their sea-green hair. Their faces were not all alike, nor yet unlike,- but such as sisters' ought to be.

Over all was carved the likeness of the glorious heaven; and on the silver doors the twelve signs of the zodiac, six on each side. Clymene's son advanced up the steep ascent, and entered the halls of his disputed father. He approached the paternal presence, but stopped at a distance, for the light was more than he could bear. Phoebus, arrayed in a purple vesture, sat on a throne, which glittered as with diamonds.

On his right hand and his left stood the Day, the Month, and the Year, and, at regular intervals, the Hours. Spring stood with her head crowned with flowers, and Summer, with garment cast aside, and a garland formed of spears of ripened grain, and Autumn, with his feet stained with grape-juice, and icy Winter, with his hair stiffened with hoar frost.

Surrounded by these attendants, the Sun, with the eye that sees everything, beheld the youth dazzled with the novelty and splendour of the scene, and inquired the purpose of his errand. The youth replied, "O light of the boundless world, Phoebus, my father,- if you permit me to use that name,- give me some proof, I beseech you, by which I may be known as yours.

To put an end to your doubts, ask what you will, the gift shall be yours. I call to witness that dreadful lake, which I never saw, but which we gods swear by in our most solemn engagements. The father repented of his promise; thrice and four times he shook his radiant head in warning. I beg you to withdraw it. It is not a safe boon, nor one, my Phaeton, suited to your youth and strength, Your lot is mortal, and you ask what is beyond a mortal's power.

In your ignorance you aspire to do that which not even the gods themselves may do. None but myself may drive the flaming car of day. Not even Jupiter, whose terrible right arm hurls the thunderbolts. The first part of the way is steep, and such as the horses when fresh in the morning can hardly climb; the middle is high up in the heavens, whence I myself can scarcely, without alarm, look down and behold the earth and sea stretched beneath me. The last part of the road descends rapidly, and requires most careful driving.

Tethys, who is waiting to receive me, often trembles for me lest I should fall headlong. Add to all this, the heaven is all the time turning round and carrying the stars with it. I have to be perpetually on my guard lest that movement, which sweeps everything else along, should hurry me also away.

Suppose I should lend you the chariot, what would you do? Could you keep your course while the sphere was revolving under you? Perhaps you think that there are forests and cities, the abodes of gods, and palaces and temples on the way. On the contrary, the road is through the midst of frightful monsters. You pass by the horns of the Bull, in front of the Archer, and near the Lion's jaws, and where the Scorpion stretches its arms in one direction and the Crab in another.

Nor will you find it easy to guide those horses, with their breasts full of fire that they breathe forth from their mouths and nostrils. I can scarcely govern them myself, when they are unruly and resist the reins. Beware, my son, lest I be the donor of a fatal gift; recall your request while yet you may.

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Do you ask me for a proof that you are sprung from my blood? I give you a proof in my fears for you. Look at my face- I would that you could look into my breast, you would there see all a father's anxiety. Finally," he continued, "look round the world and choose whatever you will of what earth or sea contains most precious- ask it and fear no refusal. This only I pray you not to urge. It is not honour, but destruction you seek. Why do you hang round my neck and still entreat me? You shall have it if you persist,- the oath is sworn and must be kept,- but I beg you to choose more wisely.

He ended; but the youth rejected all admonition and held to his demand. So, having resisted as long as he could, Phoebus at last led the way to where stood the lofty chariot. It was of gold, the gift of Vulcan; the axle was of gold, the pole and wheels of gold, the spokes of silver. Along the seat were rows of chrysolites and diamonds which reflected all around the brightness of the sun. While the daring youth gazed in admiration, the early Dawn threw open the purple doors of the east, and showed the pathway strewn with roses. The stars withdrew, marshalled by the Day-star, which last of all retired also.

The father, when he saw the earth beginning to glow, and the Moon preparing to retire, ordered the Hours to harness up the horses. They obeyed, and led forth from the lofty stalls the Steeds full fed with ambrosia, and attached the reins. Then the father bathed the face of his son with a powerful unguent, and made him capable of enduring the brightness of the flame.

He set the rays on his head, and, with a foreboding sigh, said, "If, my son, you will in this at least heed my advice, spare the whip and hold tight the reins. They go fast enough of their own accord; the labour is to hold them in. You are not to take the straight road directly between the five circles, but turn off to the left. Keep within the limit of the middle zone, and avoid the northern and the southern alike. You will see the marks of the northern and the southern alike. You will see the marks of the wheels, and they will serve to guide you.

And, that the skies and the earth may each receive their due share of heat, go not too high, or you will burn the heavenly dwellings, nor too low, or you will set the earth on fire; the middle course is safest and best. Night is passing out of the western gates and we can delay no longer. Take the reins; but if at last your heart fails you, and you will benefit by my advice, stay where you are in safety, and suffer me to light and warm the earth.

Meanwhile the horses fill the air with their snortings and fiery breath, and stamp the ground impatient. Now the bars are let down, and the boundless plain of the universe lies open before them. They dart forward and cleave the opposing clouds, and outrun the morning breezes which started from the same eastern goal. The steeds soon perceived that the load they drew was lighter than usual; and as a ship without ballast is tossed hither and thither on the sea, so the chariot, without its accustomed weight, was dashed about as if empty.

They rush headlong and leave the travelled road. He is alarmed, and knows not how to guide them; nor, if he knew, has he the power. Then, for the first time, the Great and Little Bear were scorched with heat, and would fain, if it were possible, have plunged into the water; and the Serpent which lies coiled up round the north pole, torpid and harmless, grew warm, and with warmth felt its rage revive. Bootes, they say, fled away, though encumbered with his plough, and all unused to rapid motion. When hapless Phaeton looked down upon the earth, now spreading in vast extent beneath him, he grew pale and his knees shook with terror.

In spite of the glare all around him, the sight of his eyes grew dim. He wished he had never touched his father's horses, never learned his parentage, never prevailed in his request. He is borne along like a vessel that flies before a tempest, when the pilot can do no more and betakes himself to his prayers. Much of the heavenly road is left behind, but more remains before. He turns his eyes from one direction to the other; now to the goal whence he began his course, now to the realms of sunset which he is not destined to reach.

He loses his self-command, and knows not what to do,- whether to draw tight the reins or throw them loose; he forgets the names of the horses. He sees with terror the monstrous forms scattered over the surface of heaven. Here the Scorpion extended his two great arms, with his tail and crooked claws stretching over two signs of the zodiac.

When the boy beheld him, reeking with poison and menacing with his fangs, his course failed, and the reins fell from his hands. The horses, when they felt them loose on their backs, dashed headlong, and unrestrained went off into unknown regions of the sky, in among the stars, hurling the chariot over pathless places, now up in high heaven, now down almost to the earth. The moon saw with astonishment her brother's chariot running beneath her own.

The clouds begin to smoke, and the mountain tops take fire; the fields are parched with heat, the plants wither, the trees with their leafy branches burn, the harvest is ablaze! But these are small things. Great cities perished, with their walls and towers; whole nations with their people were consumed to ashes! The forest-clad mountains burned, Athos and Taurus and Tmolus and OEte; Ida, once celebrated for fountains, but now all dry; the Muses' mountain Helicon, and Haemus; AEtna, with fires within and without, and Parnassus, with his two peaks, and Rhodope, forced at last to part with his snowy crown.

Her cold climate was no protection to Scythia, Caucasus burned, and Ossa and Pindus, and, greater than both, Olympus; the Alps high in air, and the Apennines crowned with clouds. Then Phaeton beheld the world on fire, and felt the heat intolerable. The air he breathed was like the air of a furnace and full of burning ashes, and the smoke was of a pitchy darkness. He dashed forward he knew not whither. Then, it is believed, the people of AEthiopia became black by the blood being forced so suddenly to the surface, and the Libyan desert was dried up to the condition in which it remains to this day.

The Nymphs of the fountains, with dishevelled hair, mourned their waters, nor were the rivers safe beneath their banks: Tanais smoked, and Caicus, Xanthus, and Meander; Babylonian Euphrates and Ganges, Tagus with golden sands, and Cayster where the swans resort. Nile fled away and hid his head in the desert, and there it still remains concealed. Where he used to discharge his waters through seven mouths into the sea, there seven dry channels alone remained.

The earth cracked open, and through the chinks light broke into Tartarus, and frightened the king of shadows and his queen. The sea shrank up. Where here before was water, it became a dry plain; and the mountains that lie beneath the waves lifted up their heads and became islands. The fishes sought the lowest depths, and the dolphins no longer ventured as usual to sport on the surface.

Even Nereus, and his wife Doris, with the Nereids, their daughters, sought the deepest caves for refuge. Thrice Neptune essayed to raise his head above the surface, and thrice was driven back by the heat. Earth, surrounded as she was by waters, yet with head and shoulders bare, screening her face with her hand, looked up to heaven, and with a husky voice called on Jupiter:. Let me at least fall by your hand. Is this the reward of my fertility, of my obedient service?


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Is it for this that I have supplied herbage for cattle, and fruits for men, and frankincense for your altars? But if I am unworthy of regard, what has my brother Ocean done to deserve such a fate? If neither of us can excite your pity, think, I pray you, of your own heaven, and behold how both the poles are smoking which sustain your palace, which must fall if they be destroyed.

Atlas faints, and scarce holds up his burden. If sea, earth, and heaven perish, we fall into ancient Chaos. Save what yet remains to us from the devouring flame. O, take thought for our deliverance in this awful moment! Thus spoke Earth, and overcome with heat and thirst, could say no more. Then Jupiter omnipotent, calling to witness all the gods, including him who had lent the chariot, and showing them that all was lost unless some speedy remedy were applied, mounted the lofty tower from whence he diffuses clouds over the earth, and hurls the forked lightnings.

But at that time not a cloud was to be found to interpose for a screen to earth, nor was a shower remaining unexhausted. He thundered, and brandishing a lightning bolt in his right hand launched it against the charioteer, and struck him at the same moment from his seat and from existence! Phaeton, with his hair on fire, fell headlong, like a shooting star which marks the heavens with its brightness as it falls, and Eridanus, the great river, received him and cooled his burning frame. He could not rule his father's car of fire, Yet was it much so nobly to aspire.

His sisters, the Heliades, as they lamented his fate, were turned into poplar trees, on the banks of the river, and their tears, which continued to flow, became amber as they dropped into the stream.

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Him the Thunderer hurled From th' empyrean headlong to the gulf Of thee half-parched Eridanus, where weep Even now the sister trees their amber tears O'er Phaeton untimely dead. In the beautiful lines of Walter Savage Landor, descriptive of the Sea-shell, there is an allusion to the Sun's palace and chariot.

The water-nymph says:. I have sinuous shells of pearly hue Within, and things that lustre have imbibed In the sun's palace porch, where when unyoked His chariot wheel stands midway on the wave. Shake one and it awakens; then apply Its polished lip to your attentive ear, And it remembers its august abodes, And murmurs as the ocean murmurs there. The old man had been drinking, and in that state wandered away, and was found by some peasants, who carried him to their king, Midas. Midas recognized him, and treated him hospitably, entertaining him for ten days and nights with an unceasing round of jollity.

On the eleventh day he brought Silenus back, and restored him in safety to his pupil. Whereupon Bacchus offered Midas his choice of a reward, whatever he might wish. He asked that whatever he might touch should be changed into gold. Bacchus consented, though sorry that he had not made a better choice. Midas went his way, rejoicing in his new-acquired power, which he hastened to put to the test. He could scarce believe his eyes when he found a twig of an oak, which he plucked from the branch, become gold in his hand.

He took up a stone; it changed to gold. He touched a sod; it did the same. He took up an apple from the tree; you would have thought he had robbed the garden of the Hesperides. His joy knew no bounds, and as soon as he got home, he ordered the servants to set a splendid repast on the table. Then he found to his dismay that whether he touched bread, it hardened in his hand; or put a morsel to his lip, it defied his teeth. He took a glass of wine, but it flowed down his throat like melted gold. In consternation at the unprecedented affliction, he strove to divest himself of his power; he hated the gift he had lately coveted.

But all in vain; starvation seemed to await him. He raised his arms, all shining with gold, in prayer to Bacchus, begging to be delivered from his glittering destruction. Bacchus, merciful deity, herd and consented. Thenceforth Midas, hating wealth and splendour, dwelt in the country, and became a worshipper of Pan, the god of the fields. On a certain occasion Pan had the temerity to compare his music with that of Apollo, and to challenge the god of the lyre to a trial of skill. The challenge was accepted, and Tmolus, the mountain god, was chosen umpire.

The senior took his seat, and cleared away the trees from his ears to listen. At a given signal Pan blew on his pipes, and with his rustic melody gave great satisfaction to himself and his faithful follower Midas, who happened to be present. Then Tmolus turned his head toward the Sun-god, and all his trees turned with him.

Apollo rose, his brow wreathed with Parnassian laurel, while his robe of Tyrian purple swept the ground. In his left hand he held the lyre, and with his right hand struck the strings. Ravished with the harmony, Tmolus at once awarded the victory to the god of the lyre, and all but Midas acquiesced in the judgment. He dissented, and questioned the justice of the award.

Apollo would not suffer such a depraved pair of ears any longer to wear the human form, but caused them to increase in length, grow hairy, within and without, and movable on their roots; in short, to be on the perfect pattern of those of an ass. Mortified enough was King Midas at this mishap: but he consoled himself with the thought that it was possible to hide his misfortune, which he attempted to do by means of an ample turban or head-dress.

But his hair-dresser of course knew the secret. He was charged not to mention it, and threatened with dire punishment if he presumed to disobey. But he found it too much for his discretion to keep such a secret; so he went out into the meadow, dug a hole in the ground, and stooping down, whispered the story, and covered it up. Before long a thick bed of reeds sprang up in the meadow, and as soon as it had gained its growth, began whispering the story, and has continued to do so, from that day to this, every time a breeze passes over the place.

The story of King Midas has been told by others with some variations. Dryden, in the "Wife of Bath's Tale," makes Midas's queen the betrayer of the secret:. Midas was king of Phrygia. He was the son of Gordius, a poor countryman, who was taken by the people and made king, in obedience to the command of the oracle, which had said that their future king should come in a wagon.

While the people were deliberating, Gordius with his wife and son came driving his wagon into the public square. Gordius, being made king, dedicated his wagon to the deity of the oracle, and tied it up in its place with a fast knot. This was the celebrated Gordian knot, which, in after times it was said, whoever should untie should become lord of all Asia. Many tried to untie it, but none succeeded, till Alexander the Great, in his career of conquest, came to Phrygia.

He tried his skill with as ill success as others, till growing impatient he drew his sword and cut the knot. When he afterwards succeeded in subjecting all Asia to his sway, people began to think that he had complied with the terms of the oracle according to its true meaning. On a certain hill in Phrygia stands a linden tree and an oak, enclosed by a low wall. Not far from the spot is a marsh, formerly good habitable land, but now indented with pools, the resort of fen-birds and cormorants. Once on a time Jupiter, in human shape, visited this country, and with him his son Mercury he of the caduceus , without his wings.

They presented themselves, as weary travellers, at many a door, seeking rest and shelter, but found all closed, for it was late, and the inhospitable inhabitants would not rouse themselves to open for their reception. At last a humble mansion received them, a small thatched cottage, where Baucis, a pious old dame, and her husband Philemon, united when young, had grown old together.

Not ashamed of their poverty, they made it endurable by moderate desires and kind dispositions. One need not look there for master or for servant; they two were the whole household, master and servant alike. When the two heavenly guests crossed the humble threshold, and bowed their heads to pass under the low door, the old man placed a seat, on which Baucis, bustling and attentive, spread a cloth, and begged them to sit down.

Then she raked out the coals from the ashes, and kindled up a fire, fed it with leaves and dry bark, and with her scanty breath blew it into a flame. She brought out of a corner split sticks and dry branches, broke them up, and placed them under the small kettle. Her husband collected some pot-herbs in the garden, and she shred them from the stalks, and prepared them for the pot. He reached down with a forked stick a flitch of bacon hanging in the chimney, cut a small piece, and put it in the pot to boil with the herbs, setting away the rest for another time. A beechen bowl was filled with warm water, that their guests might wash.

While all was doing, they beguiled the time with conversation. On the bench designed for the guests was laid a cushion stuffed with sea-weed; and a cloth, only produced on great occasions, but ancient and coarse enough, was spread over that. The old lady, with her apron on, with trembling hand set the table. One leg was shorter than the rest, but a piece of slate put under restored the level. When fixed, she rubbed the table down with some sweet-smelling herbs. Upon it she set some of chaste Minerva's olives, some cornel berries preserved in vinegar, and added radishes and cheese, with eggs lightly cooked in the ashes.

All were served in earthen dishes, and an earthenware pitcher, with wooden cups, stood beside them. When all was ready, the stew, smoking hot, was set on the table. Some wine, not of the oldest, was added; and for dessert, apples and wild honey; and over and above all, friendly faces, and simple but hearty welcome. Now while the repast proceeded, the old folks were astonished to see that the wine, as fast as it was poured out, renewed itself in the pitcher, of its own accord. Struck with terror, Baucis and Philemon recognized their heavenly guests, fell on their knees, and with clasped hands implored forgiveness for their poor entertainment.

There was an old goose, which they kept as the guardian of their humble cottage; and they bethought them to make this a sacrifice in honour of their guests. But the goose, too nimble, with the aid of feet and wings, for the old folks, eluded their pursuit, and at last took shelter between the gods themselves. They forbade it to be slain; and spoke in these words: "We are gods. This inhospitable village shall pay the penalty of its impiety; you alone shall go free from the chastisement.

Quit your house, and come with us to the top of yonder hill. They had reached to within an arrow's flight of the top, when, turning their eyes below, they beheld all the country sunk in a lake, only their own house left standing. While they gazed with wonder at the sight, and lamented the fate of their neighbours, that old house of theirs was changed into a temple.

Columns took the place of the corner posts, the thatch grew yellow and appeared a gilded roof, the floors became marble, the doors were enriched with carving and ornaments of old. Then spoke Jupiter in benignant accents: "Excellent old man, and woman worthy of such a husband, speak, tell us your wishes; what favour have you to ask of us? They were the keepers of the temple as long as they lived. When grown very old, as they stood one day before the steps of the sacred edifice, and were telling the story of the place, Baucis saw Philemon begin to put forth leaves, and old Philemon saw Baucis changing in like manner.

And now a leafy crown had grown over their heads, while exchanging parting words, as long as they could speak. The Tyanean shepherd still shows the two trees, standing side by side, made out of the two good old people. The story of Baucis and Philemon has been imitated by Swift, in a burlesque style, the actors in the change being two wandering saints, and the house being changed into a church, of which Philemon is made the parson. The following may serve as a specimen:. The chimney widened and grew higher, Became a steeple with a spire.

The kettle to the top was hoist, And there stood fastened to a joist, But with the upside down, to show, Its inclination for below; In vain, for a superior force, Applied at bottom, stops its course; Doomed ever in suspense to dwell, 'Tis now no kettle, but a bell. A wooden jack, which had almost Lost by disuse the art to roast, A sudden alteration feels.

Increased by new intestine wheels; And, what exalts the wonder more, The number made the motion slower; The flier, though 't had leaden feet, Turned round so quick you scarce could see 't; But slackened by some secret power, Now hardly moves an inch an hour. The jack and chimney, near allied, Had never left each other's side: The chimney to a steeple grown, The jack would not be left alone; But up against the steeple reared, Became a clock, and still adhered; And still its love to household cares By a shrill voice at noon declares, Warning the cook-maid not to burn That roast meat which it cannot turn.

The groaning chair began to crawl, Like a huge snail, along the wall; There stuck aloft in public view, And with small change, a pulpit grew. A bedstead of the antique mode, Compact of timber many a load, Such as our ancestors did use, Was metamorphosed into pews, Which still their ancient nature keep By lodging folks disposed to sleep. WHEN Jupiter and his brothers had defeated the Titars and banished them to Tartarus, a new enemy rose up against the gods.

They were the giants Typhon, Briareus, Enceladus, and others. Some of them had a hundred arms, others breathed out fire. They were finally subdued and buried alive under Mount AEtna, where they still sometimes struggle to get loose, and shake the whole island with earthquakes. Their breath comes up through the mountain, and is what men call the eruption of the volcano. The fall of these monsters shook the earth, so that Pluto was alarmed, and feared that his kingdom would be laid open to the light of day.

Under this apprehension, he mounted his chariot, drawn by black horses, and took a circuit of inspection to satisfy himself of the extent of the damage. While he was thus engaged, Venus, who was sitting on Mount Eryx playing with her boy Cupid, espied him, and said, "My son, take your darts with which you conquer all, even Jove himself, and send one into the breast of yonder dark monarch, who rules the realm of Tartarus.

Why should he alone escape? Seize the opportunity to extend your empire and mine. Do you not see that even in heaven some despise our power? Minerva the wise, and Diana the huntress, defy us; and there is that daughter of Ceres, who threatens to follow their example. Now do you, if you have any regard for your own interest or mine, join these two in one. In the vale of Enna there is a lake embowered in woods, which screen it from the fervid rays of the sun, while the moist ground is covered with flowers, and Spring reigns perpetual.

Here Proserpine was playing with her companions, gathering lilies and violets, and filling her basket and her apron with them, when Pluto saw her, loved her, and carried her off. She screamed for help to her mother and companions; and when in her fright she dropped the corners of her apron and let the flowers fall, childlike she felt the loss of them as an addition to her grief. The ravisher urged on his steeds, calling them each by name, and throwing loose over their heads and necks his iron-coloured reins.

When he reached the River Cyane, and it opposed his passage, he struck the river-bank with his trident, and the earth opened and gave him a passage to Tartarus. Ceres sought her daughter all the world over. Bright-haired Aurora, when she came forth in the morning, and Hesperus when he led out the stars in the evening, found her still busy in the search.

UXL Encyclopedia of World Mythology

But it was all unavailing. At length, weary and sad, she sat down upon a stone, and continued sitting nine days and nights, in the open air, under the sunlight and moonlight and falling showers. It was where now stands the city of Eleusis, then the home of an old man named Celeus. He was out on the field, gathering acorns and blackberries, and sticks for his fire. His little girl was driving home their two goats, and as she passed the goddess, who appeared in the guise of an old woman, she said to her, "Mother,"- and the name was sweet to the ears of Ceres,- "why do you sit here alone upon the rocks?

She declined, and he urged her. The compassionate old man and his child wept with her. Then said he, "Come with us, and despise not our humble roof; so may your daughter be restored to you in safety.

As they walked he told her that his only son, a little boy, lay very sick, feverish, and sleepless. She stooped and gathered some poppies. As they entered the cottage, they found all in great distress, for the boy seemed past hope of recovery. Metanira, his mother, received her kindly, and the goddess stooped and kissed the lips of the sick child.

Instantly the paleness left his face, and healthy vigour returned to his body. The whole family were delighted- that is, the father, mother, and little girl, for they were all; they had no servants. They spread the table, and put upon it curds and cream, apples, and honey in the comb. While they ate, Ceres mingled poppy juice in the milk of the boy. When night came and all was still, she arose, and taking the sleeping boy, moulded his limbs with her hands, and uttered over him three times a solemn charm, then went and laid him in the ashes. I have this book -- it too was one of my favorites as a little girl and it took me a long time to track down a copy.

It's about a little girl getting ready for bed and she's saying "Good night" to everything she sees like the sun, the things and people she can see out the window. Then she says hello to her bed and good night to her stuffed animals and her baby sibling then she says "Good night, Mother. I love you! Just wanted to add that I think the Green Glassy of the story title, which I believe was a snow globe, had inside of it the figure of a bear. I am still hoping someone remembers this story. Mary Grannan, Just Mary Stories. Just Mary was a radio personality in Canada.

This book which has both the skating mice and the Bear in the Glassy is a combination of two of her books - Just Mary and Just Mary again. Try looking at some of Joan Aiken's adult novels from the 's - there was one that seems similar - the girl was a musician or music teacher and there was some kind of mystery subplot. The Greengage Summer. I'm not sure of the author, maybe Penelope Mortimer. I think this could be your book.

Flanders, Rebecca, Yesterday Comes Tomorrow. Harlequin I'm dubious about this one, but it's the closest I've found so far. Then the present and the past merged, and Amelia Langston was back in on the Aury Plantation with Jeffrey Craig, the prime suspect in a murder. There she discovered everything that had been missing from her life Was this a fantasy or a frightening reality? I don't believe that there was a murder and it didn't have a plantation. It was almost from a Victorian time.

He made a kind of washing machine and a toilet. As the book unfolds, you learn that the professor had also come through the sundial. He wasn't inventing things, he was re-inventing things. In the story there were 2 brothers. The hero was the black sheep of the family. When the girl had gone back in time she knew some of the characters and the plot of the mystery regarding the stolen necklace. She was very suspicious of the black sheep brother. I really believe that the word Time was in the title. I thought the name was A Stitch in Time. She brought her best friend. Every other guest for the weekend had a title.

She was called the Mysterious Lady. She thought that she was gypped. It turns out she was playing herself in the mystery. I come home from teaching every day and I look to see if one of your readers remembers. I have faith in your site! It'll happen. My sister is sending a couple stumpers your way, too. I just read an interview with the director Lars von Trier who said that all of his movies are influenced by a book called Gold Heart -- I wonder if it's the same one? Grimm, Star Money. This should be in any full collection of Grimms fairy tales. Grimm, The Falling Stars , Illustrated by Eugen Sopko.

A beautiful picture book version of Star Money by Grimm. May be out of print as I got my copy years ago. It is a great story for the Christmas holidays. The story of Star Money is used in many Waldorf schools around that time of year. In this large Golden book of stories the name of which I can't remember exactly, but I have it at home is a story about a little BOY who doesn't want to take a bath. He goes outdoors to see how the cat, the pig, etc. Might be what you're thinking of.

David L. Harrison, The Book of Giant Stories , 's. The book cover is green with a giant on the front. It contains three different stories about three different giants. I also had this book as a child in the 70's I hope this is the one you are looking for! Jessamyn West, Leafy Rivers. Late 70's. It was definitely a witch, and I think she was trying to be a little girl. Anna Elizabeth Bennett, Little Witch. Maybe the stumper requester could look at Solved Mysteries, to rule it out?

I remember this book too, but unfortunately no more details. I think you're right that the witch baked these green and purple cookies for Parent Night or Back-to-School Night. I think the rest of the parents who were there found them very unappetizing they were lumpy and misshapen too. The witch might have been hiding the fact that she was a witch, and trying to go to school like an ordinary girl -- that might be why she didn't ask her parents to make the cookies, because either they didn't know or didn't approve?

I would have read it in the 70's. Timothy and two witches. This book is written for an older age group, but I can't remember the name I think this may be the same as "E Evil witches, good dragon" which seems very similar--right down to the blue pudding. Someone posted there that it was The Mythical Beast. Worth checking out, I would think. I don't remember anything about a teenage girl anthology, so this story appears to have been printed in a book of short stories with a different focus. Regardless, it's there. This story is either part of Young Mutants possible or Young Extraterrestrials.

Contents at the bottom of this webpage. Young Extraterrestrials cover big. Young Mutants cover big. It could also be other books in the Young series, but I think it's one of those two. Series listed here, although I disagree with the review content. Brock, No Flying in the House. This story is about a girl who feels different and finds out she's a fairy she can kiss her elbow.

There's a little magical dog as well. Kris Neville: Bettyann This is indisputably the science fiction classic Bettyann. When a "car accident" actually a spaceship crash, I think kills her parents and damages her arm she's adopted by an old couple. As a teenager she has an instinct to heal sick people. Her real family find her and tell her everything. They are shapeshifters and show her how to restore her arm. They take it for granted she will want to come back with them, but she changes into a bird and flies back to her earthly home.

It is somber, as you said, but beautiful.

Banned from Heaven. Escaped from Hell.

There is a sequel called Bettyann's Children. Thanks to the people who have sent suggestions. The book definitely isn't No Flying in the House. The story I'm thinking of is fairly somber. I'll try to find a copy of the Young They sound promising. The girl's name is Anna Lavinia, she travels on a train and is given, I think, some kind of food by an old woman. Whether or not it's jelly donuts, I can't confirm right now, since my Mom has the book. Do "lavender blue days" a cat named Strawberry and floating down to the ground with an umbrella after jumping off a cliff sound familiar?

Dorothy Canfield, Understood Betsy , 's, approximate. In this book, there is a chapter where Betsy and Molly go to the fair and the people they are supposed to ride home with leave without them. Betsy earns the money for train tickets by running the donut booth so the girl can go to dance with her boyfriend for an hour. When the girl comes back, she hands Betsy a bag of donuts. Maybe this is your book? Catherine Storr, Marianne Dreams.

The link has a synopsis of the story. Doesn't quite match the description in the stumper, but some how it feels like it might be the book being looked for. I read the book a while ago. Our local library no longer has a copy, but wasn't a movie made of it a year or two ago? Thanks for the feedback, but this book is definitely not Marianne Dreams. I do remember Marianne Dreams though, as it was a TV series in England during the Seventies, and I was disturbed by the rocks with eyes.

I also thought it silly that she drew a lighthouse as a light source to aid their escape, instead of a constant source of light. Kate Seredy, The Good Master. Kathryn Worth, They Loved to Laugh. A deluge of ripe apples is Martitia's introduction to the five fun-loving Gardner boys when their father, Dr. David, brings the sixteen-year-old orphan girl to the hospitable Gardner home in North Carolina.

They Loved to Laugh. This is about a young girl, Martitia? Her aunt always says, "Every tub must stand on its own bottom" and the boys make her think she is eating dog meat. Daringer, Helen F. Wonderful book about an orphan who goes to stay with an older woman, then stays with a lively family on a farm and has to decide if she will stay there or return to the woman.

Thank you. They loved to laugh could indeed be a possibility and it's good to know that it's been reprinted. I had considered Kate Seredy's books before, but the descriptions don't sound right nor the Hungarian setting. I am very sure this story takes place entirely in the USA. Carol Brink, Caddy Woodlawn. Caddy herself lives on a farm with her siblings however, some cousins from the city visit, and there's a lot of adjustment and "growing up," including "goading" of each other. As I recall, Caddy's a tomboy and the girl cousins aren't, which leads to problems.

The "mood" and time you described seemed right, so I wondered if maybe your memory had inadvertently "reversed" the plot, remembering the more common plot where the protagonist goes to the cousins' farm instead of having cousins come to hers. Since you've tried so many other books with no luck, I thought I'd suggest this. Louisa M. Alcott, Eight Cousins. A long shot -- but perhaps this is it? There is a hoard of cousins Thank you for these additional tips! I will give Adopted Jane a try and take another look at Caddie Woodlawn and also the sequel Magical melons.

I had dismissed "Caddie" for the very reason you stated, but one never knows how memory can play tricks! This is probably a long shot, as it's such a well-known book, but is there any chance this could be Anne of Green Gables or one of its sequels? This one kind of fits. The character is named Julie. She goes to live with her aunt after her mother dies.

The book covers her life from age 7 to age 18 or so. Louisa May Alcott, Eight Cousins. This is a far out in left field suggestion but it does involve hoards of cousins. Rose is orphaned and is sent to live with her father's aunts in San Francisco. She befriends her 7 boy cousins and they have adventures that include sailing, gardening, visiting the country, etc. She spends a great deal of time adjusting to her new life since she has spent most of her life in a girls' boarding school. Thanks for more suggestions. No, it's not Eight Cousins or any of L.

Montgomery's books. My sense is that the author is much more obscure and that's one reason I can't pin down this book. Maybe too young, but have the feel that you're looking for. Nine-year-old Nancy is sent to live with her Swedish grandparents for a year. I wanted flowered wallpaper and a sewing basket for years after reading these books. Elizabeth Witheridge, Never Younger, Jeannie , It's great to have so many possibilities and to re-read and get acquainted with some excellent books.

I am working my way through all your suggestions. Unfortunately, I know now that my long lost book is not either of the Caddie books, which are simply wonderful stories. In fact, I am wondering if my unknown writer writes as well as some of these others. I think my adult self may be alot more critical of a very sentimental, sweet, and even overwrought story which I suspect I am looking for. It may also be written even earlier than I think - two reasons why I am doubtful about Up a road slowly which is next in line. Thank you again to everyone, and I will continue to keep you posted.

Jean Webster, Daddy Long Legs. This is a total long shot. Only part of this book takes place on a farm. She did wear gingham uniforms in the orphanage She is older when she is on the farm-- she is sent to college by a mysterious benefactor. Something about your description triggered thoughts of this book. As I said-- a long shot. But a good read anyway! No, it's not Daddy Long Legs although it was a fun read - skimmed through the online version and want to come back to it later.

I'm still waiting for more of your suggestions to arrive in concrete form as ordered books. Alas, need to be reading nothing but school books before too very long, so all this enjoyable detective work will have to be put on hold for awhile! Never younger, Jeannie just arrived today. There is nothing familiar about the look of it, but just in skimming through the text it certainly has the "right feel", as does Up a road slowly.

Alice Lunt, Eileen of Redstone Farm , Probably not it, because this one takes place in Scotland or England, but otherwise it sounds similar. Thank you for continuing to take an interest in my archived post! I will order a copy of Eileen of Redstone Farm - you just never know I have enjoyed reading these books with a similar theme. I did read They loved to laugh and thought it was a moving and well-written book, with a very similar feel to what I'm looking for, but alas not the one.

Of that I am very sure. Frances Salomon Murphy, Runaway Alice. This could be it - Alice is an orphan who goes to live on a farm as a foster child. Might be worth a try This isn't by any chance Bluebonnets for Lucinda , is it? That is long out of print. One chapter was reprinted in pre Childcraft, the one where Lucinda's been told to stay away from the foul-tempered geese, but she finds that if she plays her music box the geese become interested in the music and calm down.

Once again, I do appreciate more suggestions for my post. It still haunts me and I fear my memories are just too vague. Gates, Doris, The Elderberry Bush. Good luck! Thank you again but it's not " Eileen of Redstone Farm ", although you're right - it's similar, but the setting is wrong. It's not " The elderberry bush " either, published too late. I know I didn't read it any later than I think I need to be hypnotised for this one!

The name Pat, Patsy, or Patty seems to ring a faint bell also. She may have been one of the cousins and Julie or Judy was the heroine or vice versa. Rita Ritchie, Ice Falcon. This sounds very much like the sort of book Ritchie wrote - it's not The Golden Hawks of Genghis Khan , so Ice Falcon may be a possibility, although I can't recall anything about it specifically. The pet falcon with them was a big help. Don't remember any family members being involved, either. Just the falconer.

And a bit where he explained 'falco greenlandicus' to a Saracen. S F Welty, Knight's ransom, I think this is what you are looking for. It is a poem, and the refrain repeats the line "An' the Gobble-uns'll git you Ef you don't watch out. For example, "Wunst they wuz a little boy who wouldn't say his prayers I have no idea which anthologies it's in, but this should help a little. I betcha it's this one.

I was looking for this same book, now that I have a two-year-old. The artwork on that page used to scare the bejeebers out of me. I liked There Once Was a Puffin, especially. See here and search for Werne. James Stephens, The Crock of Gold , s. For the robin redbreast is the particular bird of the Leprecauns of Gort na Gloca Mora, and the Leprecauns retaliate by stealing Meehawl MacMurrachu's wife's washing-board, and Meehawl asks the Philosopher who lives in the center of the pine wood called Coilla Doraca for advice in locating the washboard Unique and inimitable, this is one of the great tales of our century.

It's a great book - well worth a read anyway! I don't know the book, but the story reminds me of the folk tale The King's Highway. A king builds a new road, and decides to have a contest to see who can travel the road the best. The contestants complain that there's a pile of rocks in the road finally one weary traveller comes carrying a box of gold that was hidden under the rocks. He wins, of course, because "he who travels best is the one who smooths the way for others. Margot Benary-Isbert, The Ark. Definitely the book. There is a circus man with a mustache in this book, but no whale-shaped submarine or land with balloons.

However, there was a prequel to this book called Three Little Horses and that might have those things. Otto Whittaker, The true story of the tooth fairy and why brides wear engagement rings , Marlys Millhiser, The Mirror , The night before her wedding, Shay Garrett and her grandmother, Brandy switch bodies, sending Shay back to I hate to disagree with the solution to this stumper, but I know The Mirror well I even have an autographed copy! The daughter and the grandmother switch places in the stumper story AND in The Mirror , but those are the only two things the two books have in common.

Here is what happens in The Mirror. First, the name of the two women who switch places are Shay and Brandy. Shay is the modern girl, just about to be married to a guy named Mark, and she switches places with her grandmother, Brandy, the old fashioned girl, on the eve of her wedding. Second, the grandmother, Brandy, was never raped. The Mirror is very clear on the fact that Brandy was a virgin when she was married. The doctor comes to examine her on her wedding night, because, by that time, Brady now has Shay's soul, and Shay is a bit dizzy and faint. In comes the doctor, who states very cleary that she is a virgin, and that her new groom has nothing to worry about.

Brandy who is really Shay , marries Corwin, a Welsh miner, who is killed in a mining accident. Shay never returns to the present day, and Brandy never returns to the 's. Shay is a modern girl with modern ideas living in the 's but she is not a black sheep, nor an outcast. Brandy, in the modern time, adjusts to living there, and ends up marrying Mark, the man Shay was originally going to marry.

And that is the plot of The Mirror! If the original stumper stongly remembers a rape and an attempted abortion, a black sheep issue, and a return of the charactesr to the right year, then perhaps the stumper is asking about a different story than The Mirror.

Are you sure that the Mirror isn't the story? In the story I remember but didn't remember the title of , the grandmother Brandy wasn't raped, but Shay was pregnant when the switch was made, so Brandy had to go through the pregnancy. Penny was the baby Shay had with the miner. From her 'future' she knew the baby wouldn't live to adulthood, so she tried to avoid getting pregnant with a copper penny.

The baby was sickly and died after a few weeks. Shay wasn't sickly then, but later had TB for years. The Mirror possibly. Your description of the book definitely sounds like the plot of The Mirror to me, but the orignal stumper didn't. I had forgotten about the baby Penny, who died early on. It could be that the orignal stumper had remembered the baby being born of rape, even though she wasn't. Maybe the original stumper can shed some light! I'm a Prisoner in the Library! Catherine Woolley, Chris in Trouble, This could be Woolley's second book about Cathy Leonard's little sister Chris. One day, she and a friend go inside her school when they're not supposed to and accidentally leave their dolls in a classroom.

They're locked in the school and have to climb out a window to get out. Later, when Chris tries to retrieve the dolls without being seen, she tries to avoid the school's janitor. Catherine Woolley , Chris in Trouble, Nine year-old Chris gets into difficult situations one weekend such as sneaking into her school with a friend and then accidentally leaving their dolls behind. There's a janitor they try to avoid. And Chris has to avoid him again when she tries to retrieve the dolls undetected. G Green boy with wings I saw a book at a bookstore about a decade ago.

On the cover was a girl with brown shoulder length hair, dressed in white clothes and holding a white orb in both her hands. She was standing on a giant leaf which was floating in water and being pulled by a green boy with dragon or faerie wings, and long black hair. The back of the book said that the girl was a princess and I think the boy was her pet, I'm not sure. There was also a sequel or a prequel to that book, which showed the boy flying in the air, and bellow them you could see the princess girl and a guy in armor next to her, and both of them were looking up at him.

I hope that's enough to go on. Norton, Andrew, Flight in Yiktor. The "girl with orb" book is Flight in Yiktor , and the "boy flying while others watch" is probably Dare to Go A-Hunting. Andre Norton, Flight in Yiktor , The cover is as described, and it is one book in a series, but the plot is a little different: the girl is a sorceress and the green boy is a former slave she has rescued. I'm not sure which book you have But here's a bio and bibliography for Bessie Pease Gutmann.

Zenna Henderson, The People. Just finished reading the G stumper and have to say this sounds a lot like "The People" stories I read them as short stories but I think they were all gathered into a book by Zenna Henderson. A race of people with various powers must evict their planet and they crash-land on earth and are scattered. The stories follow the experiences of the various alien characters and their encounters with the people of Earth. Written in a style that is both highly realistic and beautifully sensitive.

Don't remember the character who can see connections between people, though. There was a boy who was learning how to fly who fell in love with an Earht girl, there was a baby named Lala by its finders, there were many others. Even if this is not the solution, I consider this series as one of the best science fiction series of all time and definitely worth any reader's attention. A possibility: the first book of the Homecoming series. One of the girls in the book Luet? This would be my first recommendation. When one of the People comes of age, their natural "talent", or "gift", such as healing, sensing metals, "lifting" flying becomes apparent.

The grandmother in particular senses the ties between the women in her family, and how they change when her grandaughter realizes her love for a young man is as strong a tie as the love of her birth family. This is a compilation of short stories previously published in other sources. The name of the short story in the series that deals with the evacuation of the home planet is called "Deluge," originally published in I think this is not a People story. I've read Ingathering all the People stories, including unpublished ones , and there's nothing about being able to "see connections between" people.

In later stories, we find Sorters can rearrange and erase people's memories, too. My guess is that the Orson Scott Card book is it. Thanks for having this service! Orson Scott Card, Homecoming. This is the book you're looking for. There's a series of six books, but it's in "Homecoming" that she can see connections. Gold strands for some, silver for others. Still available in paperback. I always remember that description. I'm wondering if this could be one of Janice May Udry' s books?

I believe her books were read on Captain Kangaroo a lot. I'm not sure which one it is, however. At first I thought it was Let's Be Enemies, but that's not it. You may want to look at the books by Phyllis Krasilovsky , as well. Hope it helps. I still haven't found this bookmore memories of book the main character would alway try to do things but did it wrong Julie, her boyfriend, and 2 friends hit a boy on a bike while driving back from a picnic and later find out he died.

Julie wasn't driving, they were in a normal car and Julie doesn't work at a flower shop, but the person who stalks the friends a year later figures out who she was by asking at the flower shop where she ordered yellow roses for the boy's funeral and sent them without a name. Her boyfriend was in the car with her and thus knows all about it, but he leaves town soon after and doesn't come back until a year later, and at the end they decide together that they need to come clean about the hit-and-run. Lois Duncan, I know what you did last summer.

There is a similar situation in this book but there are four people involved in the hit-and-run that kills a boy on his bicycle. Julie and her three friends take a vow of secrecy but she receives a mysterious message saying "I know what you did last summer. Hope Dahle Jordan, Haunted Summer , Rilla Martin is a teenage girl who is working a summer job delivering flowers to save money for college. On a rainy night she hits something and it turns out to be a boy on his bike.

She takes him to the hospital and runs away and they think she is a boy. She feels guilty all summer and tells her boyfriend. He eventually convinces her to go to the police. The boy does not die. Lynne Reid Banks, Fairy Rebel , The fairy gets the colors mixed and has to do an emergency fix to make sure the baby doesn't have blue hair. Later there is trouble with the Fairy Queen who had forbidden contact with humans.

Lynne Reid Banks, the Fairy Rebel, My daughter and I believe this is the book. The name of the fairy is Tiki and she helps Jan have a baby. This makes the queen fairy very angry. Your description about the fairy using her power to create a child for a human sounds a lot like this book. The fairy is punished by the bad fairy queen for helping a human.

I don't think there's anything about the human woman knowing the fairy as a child. We do, however, get to see the child the fairy creates for the woman grow up to about the age of I read this book in the early 90's in upper elementary school. The pencil stub is out, but this Newberry winner is the best girl Crusoe tale ever, based on the true story of a Native American girl who managed to survive alone on an island off the Californian coast for 18 years. There was a spate of wonderful lone child survivor stories I read growing up in the 60s and 70s Could this be The Village That Slept?

The girl is not alone -- there is a boy and also a baby, all victims of a plane crash in the Pyrenees. They find shelter in a recently deserted village, and eventually find a dog, cow, sheep, and chickens too. Their names which at first they don't remember are Lydia and Franz. They are ingenious at surviving, and after a year or two are found and rescued. Mazer, Island Keeper , , copyright. Not sure if this is it, but plot is similar to your search. Brink, Carol Ryrie, Baby Island. Re G, this is quite a long shot, because the most important detail, the fact that your heroine is alone, doesn't match, but several other things do.

In this book, 12 year old Mary and her 10 year old sister Jean are stranded on a deserted island with four babies under the age of 2 after the ship on which they were passengers begins to sink. While drifting in a lifeboat, Jean's disorganized pockets turn up a stubby pencil, among other odds and ends, and the girls discover a good supply of canned food in the lifeboat, including canned milk, which they feed to the youngest baby, Jonah.

When they run aground on the island, they find things to eat like bananas, coconuts, crabs and clams. They build a teepee out of the lifeboat's sail, and ingeniously construct other things like a pram that they can pull the babies around in, and even make dishes out of coconut shells think Giligan's Island minus the idiocy. Jean starts writing letters to their. Aunt Emma by putting them in the empty food cans and letting them float away. They discover a hermit named Mr. Peterkin living in a hut, which he somewhat reluctantly shares with them after a storm destroys the teepee.

They are eventually rescued by their father and the fathers of the babies. This little gem was originally written in , and was reprinted by Scholastic Book Services in , which is when I found it. As I said, this is a long shot, but the pencil stub, the hut, the very few things and the ingenuity all match. Good luck with your search!

Joan Aiken, A Necklace of Raindrops , Could it be a story from the collection A Necklace of Raindrops? It has the silouette illustrations, but it's a series of short stories Elizabeth Hamilton Friermood, Circus Sequins , circa A real longshot! From what I remember, the girl in this book has flaming red hair, which people make fun of. She's good with horses, and somehow ends up in a circus as a bareback rider, where she makes a green dress which shows off her red hair and everyone thinks she's beautiful.

At the end of the summer, she has to decide if she should stay with the circus or go back to the country and marry her boyfriend, who had supported her through all the teasing. Maybe worth a try, anyway! Thanks for the suggestion, but I know that's not it. Definitely not green. And I think the girl is of the year old range, not marriage material. Thanks for helping. I've been looking for this book for years i remember the girl with red hair freckles plays in the woods with her friend, barefoot has her first period talks with a southern accent written in the 60's or 70's.

Adler, Goodbye Pink Pig. Worth a shot- the girl has an unhappy home life and imagines adventures with her animal figurines. Cynthia Voight, Izzy Willy-Nilly , This is probably not the book, but there are some similarities. The girl was in a drunk-driving accident, and had to have one of her legs amputated at the knee.

Have a look online and see if this is the book. Babbis Friis, Kristy's courage , A little girl has problems adjusting to school life after an automobile accidnt disfigures her and causes her to have a speech impediment I checked out those two books and neither of them are the book. I also remembered a few days ago that the girl was a cheerleader before her accident. This could be the book that you are describing. Some parts don't match, the girl's brother isn't bothered by her accident and she wasn't a cheerleader.

I can't remember for sure how she had the accident but in this book the girl's name is Penny Snow and she injured her hip and leg. She used to be a great swimmer. She's afraid to exercise in any way now because she used to be great at all kinds of sports and now she would be average or less. She goes out to Oregon to help her grandfather move to a rest home, meets a boy who teaches her how to believe in herself and how to run.

She competes in 6 mile race at the end. It's 67 in the teen romance series Sweet Dreams. Could this be a nonfiction book? I remember a true story - very inspiring - of a young girl named Kristie or Christy or Kristy! I vividly remember she was knocked out of her shoes.

The books told of her rehab, and relearning all the basics of living. I'll do some sleuthing and see if I can find it. I think the title was just the girl's name. I just got off the phone with my mother and she said it WAS a non fiction book, but she couldn't remember the name either.

Barbara Miller, Kathy , The Millers were a typical American family until the day a speeding car left year-old Kathy critically injured, in a coma from which the doctors said she might never recover! How Kathy won back her health, gave her family the gift of faith, and ran in an international marathon less than six months later. Collins, Joan, Katy , This book tells the story of actor Joan Collins daughter Katy, who is injured in a bike accident and deals with her rehabilitation.

I remember reading it when I was about 10 or 11 near the time of publication. Albert G. I think the second story listed may be "Let's Haunt a House" by Manly Wade Wellman, which is the first story in the anthology. Alfred Hitchcock's Haunted House , early 60s. Hi, I may have the solution to the G stumper. Title may be Alfred Hitchcock's Haunted House. I was a little hesitant to submit this as a solution because although the stumper's description of the book's date, size, number of stories, etc.

My cover had a very scary illustration of Alfred Hitchcock's face coming out of the door of a obviously haunted house. The cover art frightened me more than any of the stories! Don't recall many of them but one that comes to mind is about some children convinced that a woman- perhaps an aunt, perhaps a nanny- whose name was "Wasywich" or similar, is a witch. A black and white illustration to that story showed a thin woman with piercing eyes accompanied by some children.

Robert A. Heimlein, Menace From Earth. These have been fequently anthologised. Lyn Cook, Pegeen and the pilgrim , How about this one? I also vaguely remember a blue cover on the original. It was reprinted by Tundra Books in She even has to share a room with old Mrs. Then an extraordinary thing happens — a Shakespearean festival is planned for Stratford. As the festival develops, so does Pegeen. She learns a great deal about Shakespeare, the boarders at home, and her circle of friends, including the mysterious pilgrim, Mr.

Girl was named Magda Maybe one of Helen Dore Boylston's series of 4 Carol books? I think they all have dustjackets with one colour surround and picture of Carol in the middle - can't remember which, if any, is blue. Although these are '40s not '60s, they were reprinted fairly often and I am sure would have been around in the '60s. Carol does quite a lot of growing up over the 4 books, and there is a romantic interest. Janet Lambert, Up Goes the Curtain , This is one of the Penny Parrish books. She spends part of it working in summer stock, and then gets to be in a Broadway show, where she meets Josh MacDonald, the stage manager.

Betty Cavanna, Two's Company , I think this book may be Betty Cavanna's Two's Company , in which the heroine does summer theatre in Williamsburg Virginia. Marjory Hall, Straw Hat Summer , Gail becomes interested in the theater when a summer theater group rents her family's barn to put on plays. You've already given me so many great ideas, and I'm off to investigate. There are more possibilities than I'd anticipated! Rosamond DuJardin, Showboat Summer , , copyright. This is about twin girls, not just one girl, but could it be this?

To Penny, it meant being with Mike who had a job on the tugboat that pushed the old Regina from town to town along the Ohio River. To Pam it meant a chance to act, and perhaps a leading role in one of the gala showboat performances. Here's another possiblity I have this in my little bookstore, but haven't read it. Main character is Nan, and it appears to be a typical late teen romance novel of the ss.

Eleanor Shaler, Gaunt's Daughter ,, approximate. Could it be Gaunt's Daughter? The girl's mother, a theater actor, dies and to avoid moving in with her mother's Quaker relatives, she gets a summer stock job. Turns out her estranged famous father is going to be there too. At the end she has a family emergency with the Quaker family and gives up her father and the play to go to the hospital.

Witch's Sister by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor, maybe? It's not Witches Sister. That book is too new. The book I'm looking for is from the early '70's. I haven't read The Witch's Sister by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor , but it was written in , so it's certainly worth examining. It was reissued in paperback editions in and , which may be why you think it's too new a book to be the one you're searching for.

I don't think it's Witch's Sister , either. Tuggle, although, she's trying to get Lynn's sister to become a witch as well. No forest scene either. G How abt this prequel to Witch's sister? Witch water. Atheneum, It's been a long time since I read those books, but I read them repeatedly way back when, and I don't remember any friendly witches or, again, any real witch other than Mrs.

Tuggle or any broomstick riding. Tuggle's thing seemed to be more about control over people than about broomsticks. Thanks for all the suggestions! I checked all the books by Naylor, and none of them are the one I'm looking for. I believe the cover showed a night scene of the sky, with a big moon, and a witch flying on a broom. It was also a pretty short story. Patricia Coombs, Dorrie and Could the girl actually have been a witch herself? Then it might be one of the Dorrie books by Patricia Coombs. Chew, Ruth , The Wednesday Witch. Could it be one of the Witch books written by Ruth Chew?

The scene you describe sounds familiar to me. I read many of her books in the late 70's-early 80's and they were quick and easy to read. The cover for the Wednesday Witch also seems similar to your description - except the witch is on a vacuum cleaner instead of a broom. I checked both of the above books- neither one is the one I'm looking for. I think the cover may have had more then one witch flying on a broom.

Adrienne Adams, The Halloween Party, Is there any chance at all the main character was a little boy named Faraday kind of an androgynous name? The cover shows a witch on a broomstick, flying across the moon with gremlin children behind her. This is a long shot, but the description reminds me a little of Sutcliff's Mark of the Horse Lord. It's about a gladiator who impersonates the prince of a British tribe and dies in the end not wrapped in cloak though, and I don't remember if he was a net-and-trident fighter.

Warrior Scarlet is not about gladiators, but involves a red cloak I think and is by the same author. While The Mark of the Horse Lord is about Phaedrus, a gladiator in Roman Britain who impersonates the lord of a northern tribe and nobly dies for "his" people, it was published in , twenty years too late for the stumper requester.

Warrior Scarlet was written in and is also unlikely to be the book sought, particularly since there's no gladiator in it. Warrior Scarlet is about Drem, a disabled boy withered arm who has to kill a wolf in order to attain manhood and the right to wear the warrior's scarlet of his Bronze Age tribe. I'm sorry I don't have the answer, but I can tell you that the book you're looking for is probably not The Crimson Cloak by Lois Montross , which is a volume of poetry.

Varble , which is described online as the story of "A little girl [who] is taken into a peasant's home. Might be Janet Lunn 's Double Spell. It was originally published as Twin Spell. Lunn, Janet, Double Spell. This features twins, ghosts and dolls, however the twins are named Jane and Elizabeth and they buy the doll rather than find it under a tree.

Strangely attracted to an antique doll, twelve-year-old twins buy the toy and soon find themselves haunted by powerful and tragic memories of ancestral twins who had also been owners of the doll Lunn, Janet, Twin Spell. See the "Solved Mysteries". Lunn Janet, Twin Spell, , reprint.

I am really certain that the doll and twin part of this stumper refers to Janet Lunn's Twin Spell, reprinted later as Double Spell. It is a haunting book about twins Jane and Elizabeth who live in Ontario Canada and find a doll in an antique store which inexplicably seems to belong to them. After they move into their Aunt Alice's mysterious old house, they begin finding themselves sharing the past experiences of two other twins, Anne and Melissa, who were their ancestors and lived in the house which was smaller and did not have new additions built on it then many years before.

They also have visions of a frightening girl named Hester who seemed to hate the earlier twins.