Fifty-Two Stories For Girls 13 – Anonymous · Verses Across
Literature · Short Stories
Fifty-Two Stories For Girls 13Part 1 · On Two Sides of the Cabinet
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Literature · Short Stories
Fifty-Two Stories For Girls 13
Part 1 · On Two Sides of the Cabinet
AnonymousEnglish
"Plenty of nourishment, remember, Mr. Goodman," said the doctor; "you must really see that your wife carries out my instructions. And you, my dear lady, mustn't trouble about want of appetite. The appetite will come all in good time, if you do what I tell you. Good-afternoon."
Little Grace Goodman gazed after the retreating figure of the doctor; and when the door closed behind him and her father, she turned to look at her mother.
Mrs. Goodman looked very pale and ill, and as she lay back in her cushioned-chair she tried to wipe away a tear unseen. But Grace's sight was very sharp, and she ran across the room and threw her arms impetuously round her mother's neck.
"Oh, mother, are you very miserable?" she asked, while her own lip quivered pitifully.
"No, no, my darling, not 'very miserable,'" answered her mother, kissing the little girl tenderly. "Hush! don't cry, my love, or you will make father unhappy. Here he comes."
Mr. Goodman re-entered the room looking very thoughtful; but as he came and sat down beside his wife, he smiled and said cheerfully, "You will soon be well now, the doctor says. The worst is over, and you only need strengthening."
Mrs. Goodman smiled sadly.
"He little knows how impossible it is to carry out his orders," she said.
"Not impossible. We shall be able to manage it, I think."
A sudden light of hope sprang into the sick lady's eyes.
"Is the book taken at last, then?" she asked eagerly.
"The book? No, indeed. The publishers all refuse to have anything to do with it. It is a risky business, you see, to bring out such an expensive book, and I can't say that I'm surprised at their refusal."
"How are we to get the money, then?" asked his wife. "We have barely enough for our everyday wants, and we cannot spare anything for extras."
"We must sell something."
Mrs. Goodman glanced round the shabbily furnished room, and then looked back at her husband questioningly.
"Uncle Jacob's Indian cabinet must go," said he.
Mrs. Goodman looked quickly towards a large black piece of furniture which stood in a dusky corner of the room, and after a moment's pause, she said: "I don't like to part with it at all. It may be very foolish and superstitious of me, but I always feel that we should be unwise to forget Uncle Jacob's advice. You know what he said about it in his will."
"I can't say that I remember much about it," answered her husband. "I have a dim remembrance that he said something that sounded rather heathenish about the cabinet bringing good luck to its owners. I didn't pay much attention to it at the time, because I don't believe in anything of the sort. And besides, your Uncle Jacob was a very peculiar old gentleman; one never knew what to make of his odd fancies and whims."
"Yes, you are quite right; he was a strange old man; but somehow I never shared the belief of most people that his intellect was weak. I think he had gathered some out-of-the-way notions during his life in India; but his mind always seemed clear enough on practical questions."
"Well, what was it he said about the Indian cabinet?"
"He said that he left it to us because we had no need for any of his money--we had plenty of our own then!--that the old Magic Cabinet, as he called it, had once been the property of a rich Rajah, who had received it from the hands of a wise Buddhist priest; that there was something talismanic about it, which gave it the power of averting misfortune from its owners; and that it would be a great mistake ever to part with it."
Mr. Goodman laughed uneasily.
"I wonder what Uncle Jacob would say now," said he. "When he amused himself by writing all that fanciful rubbish in his will, he little thought that we should be reduced to such want. It is true, he never believed that my book would be worth anything; but he could not foresee the failure of the bank and the loss of all our money. I scarcely think, if he were alive now, that he would advise me to keep the cabinet and allow you to go without the nourishment the doctor orders."
The invalid sighed.
"I suppose there is no help for it," she answered. "The old cabinet must go; for I am useless without strength, and I only make the struggle harder for you."
All the time her father and mother had been talking, little Grace had been looking from one to the other with eager, wide-open eyes; and now she cried: "Oh, mother! must the dear old black cabinet be taken away? And sha'n't we ever see it again!"
Her father drew her between his knees and smoothed back her fluffy golden hair as he said gently: "I know how you will miss it, dear; you have had such splendid games and make-believes with it, haven't you? But you will be glad to give it up to make mother well, I know."
"Will mother be quite well when the old cabinet is gone away?" asked Grace. "Will her face be bright and pink like it used to be? And will she go out of doors again?"
"Yes, darling, I hope so. I am going out now to ask a man to come and fetch away the cabinet, and while I am gone I want mother to try and get 'forty winks,' so you must be very quiet."
"Yes, I will," answered Grace quickly. "I must go and say 'good-bye' to the cabinet."
Saying this, the little girl ran to the corner of the room in which the cabinet stood; and Mr. Goodman, bending down, kissed his wife's pale face very tenderly, whispered a word of hope and comfort in her ear, and then left the room; and a moment later the sound of the house-door told that he had gone out.
Gradually the twilight grew dimmer and dimmer in the little room; and as the dusky shadows, which had been lurking in the corners, began to creep out across the floor and walls and ceiling, Mrs. Goodman fell into a peaceful sleep.
But little Grace sat quite still on the floor, gazing at the Indian cabinet.
It was a large and handsome piece of furniture made of ebony, which looked beautifully black and shiny; and the folding doors in front were carved in a wonderful fashion, and inlaid with cunning silver tracery. The carvings on these doors had always been Grace's special delight; they had served as her picture books and toys since her earliest remembrance, and she knew every line of them by heart. All the birds, and beasts, and curly snakes were old friends; but Grace paid little attention to any of them just now. All her thoughts were given to the central piece of carving, half of which was on each of the doors of the cabinet.
This centre piece was carved into the form of an Indian temple, with cupolas and towers of raised work; and in front of the temple door there sat the figure of a solemn looking Indian priest.
Of all Grace's toy friends this priest was the oldest and dearest, and as she looked at him now, the tears began to gather in her eyes at the thought of parting with him. And no wonder. He was really a most delightful little old man. His long beard was made of hair-like silver wire, the whites of his eyes were little specks of inlaid ivory, and in his hand he balanced a small bar of solid gold, which did duty as the latch of the cabinet doors.
Grace gazed at the priest long and lovingly, and at last, shuffling a little nearer to the cabinet, she whispered: "I don't like saying 'good-bye' a bit. I wish you needn't go away. Don't you think you might stay after all if you liked, and help mother to get well in some other way? You belong to a magic cabinet, so I suppose you are a magic priest, and can do all sorts of wonderful things if you choose."
The priest nodded gravely.
Then, of course, Grace gave a sudden jump, and started away from the cabinet with a rather frightened look on her face.
It was one thing to talk to this little carved wooden figure in play, and make believe that he was a real live magic priest, but it was quite another to find him nodding at her.
She felt very puzzled, but seeing that the figure was sitting quite still in front of the temple, she drew close up to the cabinet again, and presently she whispered: "Did you nod at me just now?"
The ebony priest bowed his head almost to the ground.
There could be no doubt about it this time. He was a magic priest after all. Grace did not feel frightened any more. A joyful hope began to swell in her heart, and she said, "Oh, I'm so glad! You won't go away and leave us, will you?"
For a moment the figure sat motionless, and then the head gave a most decided shake, wagging the silver beard from side to side.
"What a dear old darling you are," exclaimed Grace in delight. "But you know how ill poor mother is, and how much she wants nice things to make her strong. You will have to get them for her, if you stay, you know."
Again the priest nodded gravely.
"It isn't a very easy thing to do," said Grace, holding up a warning finger. "My father is ever such a clever man, and he can't always manage it. Why, he has written a great big book, all on long sheets of paper--piles, and piles, and PILES of them, and even that hasn't done it! I shouldn't think you could write a book."
The figure of the priest sat perfectly still, and as she talked Grace thought that the expression on his face grew more solemn than ever, and even a little cross, so she hastened to say, "Don't be offended, please. I didn't mean to be rude. I know you must be very magic indeed, or you couldn't nod your head so beautifully. But do you really think you can get mother everything the doctor has ordered?"
A fourth time the priest nodded, and this time he did it more emphatically than ever.
Little Grace clapped her hands softly.
"Oh! do begin at once, there's a dear," she whispered coaxingly.
Very slowly, as if his joints were stiff, the priest raised his arms, and allowed the golden bar in his hands to revolve in a half-circle; and then the Indian temple split right down the middle, and the two doors of the Magic Cabinet swung wide open.
Grace lost sight of the little priest, and the temple, and all the other wonderful carvings as the folding doors rolled back on their hinges; and she gazed into the cabinet, wondering what would happen next. She had often seen the inside of the cabinet, so, beautiful as it was, it was not new to her, and she felt a little disappointed. Half of the space was filled up by tiny drawers and cupboards, all covered with thin sheets of mother-of-pearl, glowing with soft and delicate tints of pink and blue; but the other half was quite unoccupied, and so highly polished was the ebony, that the open space looked to Grace like a square-cut cave of shiny black marble.
For some moments the little girl sat quite still, gazing into the depths of the cabinet; but as nothing happened she got upon her feet, and, drawing a step nearer, put her head and half her body inside the open space. Everything looked very dark in there, and she felt more disappointed than ever; but, just as she was about to draw out her head again, she noticed a shining speck in one of the top corners at the back of the cabinet. This was not the first time she had seen it, and she had always determined to look at it closer; but the cabinet stood on carved feet, like the claws of an alligator, and Grace's outstretched hand could not quite reach the back. But now the cabinet might be going away she felt that she must delay no longer, so she quickly crossed the floor and fetched the highest hassock from under the table, and planted it in front of the dark opening. Getting upon this, she climbed right into the open space, and a moment later she was sitting on the ebony floor of the Magic Cabinet.
It was rather a tight squeeze; but Grace did not mind that in the least: she drew her feet close in under her, and laughed with glee. Now she could see the shining speck plainly. It was only a tiny bright spot in the centre of a tarnished metal knob. The knob was an ugly, uninteresting-looking thing, and it was fixed so high up in the dark corner that she would never have noticed it if it had not been for the bright speck in the centre.
Wondering what the knob could be for, Grace gave it a sharp pull; but she could not move it. Next she pushed it; and then----
Bang!
The folding doors fell to with a slam, everything became suddenly dark, and Grace found herself shut inside the Magic Cabinet. Just for an instant she felt too startled to move; but when she recovered from her surprise, instead of trying to open the doors of the cabinet, she felt for the little metal knob again, and then pushed at it with all her might.
First there was a sharp snap, like the turning of a lock; and then she heard a harsh, grating sound, as the back of the cabinet slid slowly aside and revealed--what do you think?
The wall of the room behind? A secret cupboard?
No, neither of these.
Directly the back of the cabinet moved aside a sudden and brilliant flash of light dazzled Grace's eyes, and she was obliged to cover them with her hands. But it was not long before she began to peep between her fingers, and then she almost cried out for joy.
It seemed that a scene of fairyland had been spread out before her, but not in a picture, for everything she saw looked as real as it was beautiful. Grace found that she was no longer sitting in a dark and narrow cabinet, but on the top step of a marble stairway, which led down to a lake of clear and shining water. This lake, on which numbers of snowy swans swam in and out among the lily beds, stretched out far and wide, and on its banks, among flower-decked trees and shrubs, stately palaces and temples were built, whose gilded domes and marble terraces glistened brightly in the sunshine.
All this Grace took in with one delighted glance, but it was as quickly forgotten in a new and greater surprise that awaited her.
Gently but swiftly over the surface of the shining lake there glided a wonderful boat which glimmered with a pearly lustre, and as the breeze, filling its sails of purple silk, brought it closer to the steps, Grace gave a glad cry and sprang to her feet. A tall, white-bearded man, who stood in the prow of the boat, waved a long golden wand over his head, and Grace clapped her hands in glee.
"It's my dear, dear Indian priest off the door of the cabinet," she cried. "But how tall and beautiful he has grown!"
Before she could say another word the boat of pearl sailed up alongside the bottom marble step, and the old man beckoned to her to come down. She needed no second bidding, but ran lightly down the stairs and sprang into his outstretched arms.
"What a dear, good magic priest you are to come," she said, as he put her into a cosy place on some cushions at the bottom of the boat. "And what a lovely place this is! Do you live here?"
"Sometimes," answered the old man, with a grave smile.
"Oh, of course; I forgot. You live on the door of the Magic Cabinet sometimes. You have been there quite a long time. Ever since I can remember anything you have sat in front of the little carved temple. Don't you find it dull there sometimes?"
"How do you know I don't go away while you are asleep?"
"I never thought of that," said Grace. "But please tell me, where is the Magic Cabinet now?"
The old priest was busy attending to the sails of the boat, which was now shooting swiftly away from the shore; but at the question he looked up and pointed towards the top of the steps with his golden wand.
Grace looked and saw a lovely little temple built of inlaid coloured marbles.
"Is that really the back of our dear old black cabinet?" she cried. "How pretty it is! I wonder why we have never found it out."
"Everything has two sides," said the old man, "and one is always more beautiful than the other; and, strange to say, the best side is generally hidden. It can always be found if people wish for it; but as a rule they don't care to take the trouble."
Grace looked very earnestly into the priest's face while he spoke; and after he had finished she was so long silent that at last he asked, "What are you thinking about?"
"I was thinking about your face," she answered. "You won't think me rude, will you?"
"No, certainly not."
"Well, of course, you are just my dear old Indian priest, with the strange, dark face and nice white beard, exactly like I have always known you, only ever so much bigger and taller; and I'm sure that long wand is much finer than the little gold bar you generally hold; but I can't help thinking you are just a little like my mother's Uncle Jacob, who left us the Magic Cabinet. I have often looked at him in the album, and your eyes have a look in them like his. You don't mind, do you?"
"Not at all," answered the old man, smiling kindly; and then he went back to the sails again, because the boat was nearing a little island.
"Are we going to get out here?" asked Grace.
"Yes; you want me to do something for you, don't you?" And then, without waiting for an answer, he pulled some silken cords, which folded up the purple sails like the wings of a resting-bird, and the boat grounded gently, and without the slightest shock, on a mossy bank.
Taking the little girl in his arms, the old man sprang ashore. Bright flowers and ripe fruits grew in abundance on this fairy-like island, and birds of gorgeous plumage flew hither and thither, filling the sunny air with music.
But the old priest did not seem to notice any of these things. He led Grace by the hand up the mossy bank, and through a thicket of flowering shrubs into a glade, in the centre of which he halted and said, "Now, what is it to be?"
"Oh, I can't choose," said Grace, looking eagerly up into his face. "You know I want mother to be quite well; and I don't want you or the Magic Cabinet to go away from us. But I don't know what you had better do. Please, please, do whatever you like; I know it will be nice."
The old priest smiled, and struck the ground with his golden wand. Then there was such a noise that Grace had to cover up both her ears; and at the same time, out of the ground, at a little distance, there rose a great red-brick house, with queer twisted chimneys and overhanging gable-ends.
Grace stared with astonishment from the house to the gravely-smiling priest; and at last she cried, "Why, it is our dear old home where we used to live before we got so poor! I must be asleep and dreaming."
"Well, and if you are, don't you like the dream?" asked her old friend.
"Yes, yes, it's a beautiful dream; it can't be true," said Grace; and then she added quickly, "May we go into the house?"
"Yes, if you like," he answered; and he took her by the hand, and led her up the steps and through the doorway.
