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The Children of the Castle

Chapter 7 BUTTERFLY-LAND.

Word Count: 3534    |    Released on: 04/12/2017

a butt

opened

did s

xture of all that is needed to make a garden perfect-grass, velvety lawn rather; water, for a little brook ran tinkling in and out, playing bo-peep among the bushes; trees, of course, and flowers, of cour

e, children, none of you ever saw, or are likely to see. There were such enormous numbers of them, and the variety of

before her, enjoying the delicious sunshine which kissed her poor little bare feet, an

thank you so much. This

ut that would be a figure of speech only

aid kindly; "this is

Griselda, with a little d

t's where you were wishing

allusions to "yesterday." She thought i

ything? How delicious it is to feel the warm sunshine again! I didn't know how cold I was. Look, cuckoo, my toes and fingers are quite blue; they're only just beg

t last, quite

at a time. You may run about and look at everything if you like, but you had better not be

said Gr

nothing to do but fl

lda w

nk what. They seem to be nibbling at the flowers, and then flying away so

o. "They are filling

u mean?" sa

see," said

y-maxty," but one shade after another in regular order-from the palest blush pink to the very deepest damask crimson; then, again, from the soft greenish blue of the small grass forget-me-not to the rich warm tinge of the brilliant cornflo

lanned," she said to the cuckoo. "

-and-carry butterflies know exactly where to go

terflies, and who are the world-

yes," answered the cuckoo. "It'll do your

t the butterflies were never idle. They came regularly, in little parties of twos and threes, and nibbled away, as she called it, at flowers of the same colour but different shades, till they had got what they wante

gave a li

matter?" sai

d," she replied, in

of year," observed

ss house, with numberless doors, in and out of which butterflies were incessantly flying-remin

in," h

y reverse of confused. The butterflies were all settled in rows on long, narrow, white tables, and before each was a tiny object about the size of a flattened-out pin's head, which he was most carefully painting with one of his ten

remarked the cuckoo, who seem

painting, cuckoo?"

ave any holiday, and then a few stray ones now and then wander up to the world, and people talk about 'idle butterflies'! And even then it isn't true that they are idle. T

e butterflies again-never. But, cuckoo, do they paint all th

all taken from them, as you have seen. Of course they don't look the same up there," he went on, with a slight contemptuous shrug of his cuckoo shoulders; "the coa

lowers sent up to the worl

They're painted on elastic stuff, you see, which fits itself as the plant grows. Why, if your eyes w

aid Griselda; "do the b

ckoo, "the fairie

the cuckoo had time to say more a sudden tumul

y, Griselda?"

ry," repli

t," he remarked, "for I don't know that y

nner? Honey? I like that very well, spread on the top of bread-an

he great glass hall, and making straight for the cuckoo, alighted on his shoulders. They fluttered about him for

da. "They have come with a message from the king and queen to inv

with a melancholy change of tone, "I was forgetting, cuckoo. I can't go to the banquet. I

cuckoo, "I'll soon ha

of two colours only; half were blue, half yellow. They flew up to Griselda, who felt for a moment as if she were really going to be suffocated by them, but only

LIKE A FA

ame two or three thinner rows of yellow, and then blue again. Round her waist they made the loveliest belt of mingled blue and yellow, and all over the upper part of her night-gown, in and out among

, which quivered like dew-drops as she moved about. No one would have known Griselda; she looked like a fairy queen, or princess, at least, for even her little whi

and every blue and every yellow butterfly seemed settled

bout the garden, and bade Griselda look into the water mirror. It danced about rather; but still she was quite able to see he

, I'm just thinking-how shall I possibly be ab

butterflies are quite able to take care of themselves. You don't su

ge, smooth, spreading-out leaves, and on the two topmost leaves, their splendid wings glittering in the sunshine, sat two magnificent butterflies. They were many times larger than any Griselda had yet seen; in fact, the cuckoo himself looked rather small beside them, and they were so be

and queen?" asked Gr

cuckoo. "Do yo

selda. "But, cuckoo, do they never do a

ther butterflies. They are chosen every now and then, out of all the others, as being the most industrious and the cleverest of all the world-flower-painters, and then they are allowed to re

a, under her breath, "h

retched out their magnificent wings, and

?" said Griselda in

; "they are welcoming yo

ared again, slowly, majestically circling downwards, till at length they alighted on Griselda's little hands

steps and looking up at Griselda approvingly; "but it's ti

grew the large-leaved plant. This was evidently their dining-room, for no sooner were they in their place than butterflies of every kind and colour came pouring in, in masses, from all directions. But

m flower petals carefully rolled up, each containing a drop of liquid. One of these was presented to the king, and then one to the queen, who each sniffe

cuckoo?" said Griselda

ume; and as there are perfumes extracted from every flower in butterfly-land, and there are far more flo

pour the scent on my pocket-handkerchief when it comes round to me? I have my handkerchief here, you see. Isn't it nice tha

" said the cuckoo, "but not more. I shouldn'

re such quantities of them-double quantities in honour of the guest, of course! Griselda screwed up her handkerchief into a tight little ball, so that

t," she said. "Do let us d

he cuckoo. "But see, Griselda, they

hat?" sai

you'll see,

short way into the air, and there arranging t

said the cuckoo to Griseld

ed in and out of each other in the most wonderful way, like ribbons of every hue plaiting themselves and then in an instant unplaiting themselves again.

-twirly dissolving views that papa took me to see once. It's just like the

nd up and clap your hands loud three

d; clap number two-they all fluttered and twirled and buzzed about, as if in the grea

kiss you, Griselda

her was the vast feathery cloud of butter

screamed, "they'll suf

your hands loud, very lo

her precious handkerchief between her teeth, she

re were

ckoo, all had disappeared. She was in bed, and D

usual time this morning, missie," she said.

efore you, I can tell you, my dear Dorcas. Come here for a minute, Dorcas, plea

out of the big blue chinay bottle on

ns for Mr. Kneebreeches before he comes. Dear me," she added to herself, as she was putting on her slippers, "how pretty my feet did look with the blue butterfly shoes! It was very good of the cuck

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The Children of the Castle
The Children of the Castle
“"Hast thou seen that lordly castle, That castle by the sea? Golden and red above it The clouds float gorgeously." Do you remember Gratian—Gratian Conyfer, the godson of the four winds, the boy who lived at the old farmhouse up among the moors, where these strange beautiful sisters used to meet? Do you remember how full of fancies and stories Gratian's little head was, and how sometimes he put them into words to please Fergus, the lame child he loved so much? The story I am now going to tell you is one of these. I think it was their favourite one. I can not say that it is in the very words in which Gratian used to tell it, for it was not till long, long after those boyish days that it came to be written down. But all the same it is his story.About Author:Mary Louisa Molesworth, née Stewart (1839 – 1921) was an English writer of children's stories who wrote for children under the name of Mrs Molesworth. Her first novels, for adult readers, Lover and Husband (1869) to Cicely (1874), appeared under the pseudonym of Ennis Graham.She was born in Rotterdam, a daughter of Charles Augustus Stewart (1809–1873) who later became a rich merchant in Manchester and his wife Agnes Janet Wilson (1810–1883). Mary had three brothers and two sisters. She was educated in Great Britain and Switzerland: much of her girlhood was spent in Manchester. In 1861 she married Major R. Molesworth, nephew of Viscount Molesworth; they legally separated in 1879.Mrs Molesworth is best known as a writer of books for the young, such as Tell Me a Story (1875), Carrots (1876), The Cuckoo Clock (1877), The Tapestry Room (1879), and A Christmas Child (1880). She has been called "the Jane Austen of the nursery," while The Carved Lions (1895) "is probably her masterpiece." In the judgement of Roger Lancelyn Green:Mary Louisa Molesworth typified late Victorian writing for girls. Aimed at girls too old for fairies and princesses but too young for Austen and the Brontes, books by Molesworth had their share of amusement, but they also had a good deal of moral instruction.The girls reading Molesworth would grow up to be mothers; thus, the books emphasized Victorian notions of duty and self-sacrifice.Typical of the time, her young child characters often use a lisping style, and words may be misspelt to represent children's speech—"jography" for geography, for instance.She took an interest in supernatural fiction.In 1888, she published a collection of supernatural tales under the title Four Ghost Stories, and in 1896 a similar collection of six tales under the title Uncanny Stories. In addition to those, her volume Studies and Stories includes a ghost story entitled "Old Gervais" and her Summer Stories for Boys and Girls includes "Not exactly a ghost story."A new edition of The Cuckoo Clock was published in 1914.”
1 Chapter 1 THE OLD HOUSE.2 Chapter 2 IMPATIENT GRISELDA.3 Chapter 3 OBEYING ORDERS.4 Chapter 4 THE COUNTRY OF THE NODDING MANDARINS.5 Chapter 5 PICTURES.6 Chapter 6 RUBBED THE WRONG WAY.7 Chapter 7 BUTTERFLY-LAND.8 Chapter 8 MASTER PHIL.9 Chapter 9 UP AND DOWN THE CHIMNEY.10 Chapter 10 THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MOON.11 Chapter 11 CUCKOO, CUCKOO, GOOD-BYE!