THE GOLDEN FAGOTS.

A CHILD’S TALE.

An old woman went into a wood to gather fagots. As she was breaking, with much difficulty, one very long, tough branch across her knee, a splinter went into her hand. It made a wound from which the blood flowed, but she bound her hand up with a ragged handkerchief, and went home to her hut.

Now this old woman was very cross, because she had hurt herself; and therefore when she arrived home and saw her little granddaughter, Ellie, singing and spinning, she was very glad that there was somebody to punish. So she told little Ellie that she was a minx, and beat her with a fagot. But the old woman had for a long time depended for support upon her granddaughter, and the daily bread had never yet been wanting from her table.

Then this old woman told little Ellie that she was to untie the handkerchief and dress the wound upon her hand.

“The cloth feels very stiff,” said the old woman.

And that was a thing not to be wondered at, for when the bandage was unrolled, one half of it was found to be made of a thick golden tissue. And there was a lump of gold in the old woman’s hand, where otherwise a blood clot might have been.

At all this Ellie was not much surprised, because she knew little of gold, and as her grandmother was very yellow outside, it appeared to her not unlikely that she was yellow the whole way through.

But the sun now shone into the little room, and Ellie started with delight: “Look at the beautiful bright beetles there among the fagots!” She had often watched the golden beetles, scampering to and fro, near a hot stone upon the rock. “Ah, this is very odd!” said little Ellie, seeing that the bright specks did not move. “These poor insects must be all asleep!”

But the old woman, who had fallen down upon her knees before the wood, bade Ellie go into the town and sell the caps that she had finished; not forgetting to bring home another load of flax.

Grannie, when left to herself, made a great many curious grimaces. Then she scratched another wound into her hand, and caused the blood to drop among the fagots. Then she hobbled and screamed, endeavouring, no doubt, all the while to dance and sing. It was quite certain that her blood had the power of converting into gold whatever lifeless thing it dropped upon.

For many months after this time little Ellie continued to support her grandmother by daily toil. The old woman left off fires, although it was cold winter weather, and the snow lay thick upon the cottage roof. Ellie must jump to warm herself, and her grandmother dragged all the fagots into her own bedroom. Ellie was forbidden ever again to make Grannie’s bed, or to go into the old woman’s room on any account whatever. Grannie’s head was always in a bandage; and it never required dressing. Grannie could not hurt Ellie so much now when she used the stick, her strength was considerably lessened.

One day, this old woman did not come out to breakfast; and she made no answer when she was called to dinner; and Ellie, when she listened through a crevice, could not hear her snore. She always snored when she was asleep, so Ellie made no doubt she must be obstinate.

When the night came, Ellie was frightened, and dared not sleep until she had peeped in.

There was a stack of golden fagots; and her grandmother was on the floor quite white and dead.

When she alarmed her neighbours they all came together, and held up their hands and said, “What a clever miser this old woman must have been!” But when they looked at little Ellie, as she sat weeping on the pile of gold, they all quarrelled among each other over the question, Who should be her friend?

A good spirit came in the night, and that was Ellie’s friend; for in the morning all her fagots were of wood again.

Nobody then quarrelled for her love; but she found love, and was happy; because nobody thought it worth while to deceive her.

Monthly Supplement of ‘HOUSEHOLD WORDS,’

Conducted by Charles Dickens.

Price 2d., Stamped 3d.,

THE HOUSEHOLD NARRATIVE

OF

CURRENT EVENTS.

The Number, containing a history of the past month, was issued with the Magazines.

Published at the Office, No. 16, Wellington Street North, Strand. Printed by Bradbury & Evans, Whitefriars, London.

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

Fixed typos; non-standard spelling and dialect retained.

Renumbered footnotes.