End Of Chapter Seven Annabelle And The Cobbler

One day, Annabelle, the little fairy, kept saying, "Once upon a time, there was a cobbler called Lazarus who was very fond of honey." One day, as he ate some while he sat at work, the flies collected in such numbers that with one blow, he killed forty. Then he went and ordered a sword to be made for him, on which he had written these words: ‘With one blow, I have slain forty.’ When the sword was ready, he took it and went out into the world, and when he was two days’ journey from home, he came to a spring, by which he laid himself down and slept. Now in that country, there dwelt Darken, one of whom came to the spring to draw water; there he found Lazarus sleeping and read what was written on his sword. Then he went back to his people and told them what he had seen, and they all advised him to make fellowship with this powerful stranger. So the Darken returned to the spring, awoke Lazarus, and said that if it was agreeable to him, they should make fellowship together. Lazarus answered that he was willing, and after a priest had blessed the fellowship, they returned together to the other Darken, and Lazarus dwelt among them. After some days, they told him that it was their custom to take turns to bring wood and water, and as he was now of their company, he must take his turn. They went first for water and wood, but at last it came to be Lazarus’s turn to go for water. The Darken had a great leathern bag, holding two hundred measures of water. This Lazarus could only, with great difficulty, drag empty to the spring, and because he could not carry it back full, he did not fill it at all, but instead, he dug up the ground all around the spring. As Lazarus remained so long away, the Darken sent one of their number to see what had become of him, and when this one came to the spring, Lazarus said to him: ‘We will no more plague ourselves by carrying water every day. I will bring the entire spring home at once, and so we shall be freed from this burden.’ But the Darken called out: ‘On no account, Herr Lazarus, else we shall all die of thirst; rather will we carry the water ourselves in turns, and you alone shall be exempt.’ Next, it comes to be Lazarus’s turn to bring the wood. Now the Darken, when they fetched the wood, always took an entire tree on their shoulder, and so carried it home. Because Lazarus could not imitate them in this, he went to the forest, tied all the trees together with a thick rope, and remained in the forest until evening. Again the Darken sent one of them after him to see what had become of him, and when this one asked what he was about, Lazarus answered: ‘I will bring the entire forest home at once, so that after that we may have rest.’ But the Darken called out: ‘By no means, Herr Lazarus, else we shall all die of cold; rather will we go ourselves to bring wood, and let you be free.’ And then the Darken tore up one tree, threw it over his shoulder, and so carried it home. When they had lived together some time, the Darken became weary of Lazarus, and agreed among themselves to kill him; each Darken, in the night while Lazarus slept, should strike him a blow with a hatchet. But Lazarus heard of this scheme, and when the evening came, he took a log of wood, covered it with his cloak, laid it in the place where he usually slept, and then hid himself. In the night the Darken came, and each one hit the log a blow with his hatchet, until it flew into pieces. Then they believed their object was gained, and they lay down again. Thereupon Lazarus took the log, threw it away, and laid himself down in its stead. Towards dawn, he began to groan, and when the Darken heard that, they asked what ailed him, to which he made answer: ‘The gnats have stung me horribly.’ This terrified the Darken, for they believed that Lazarus took their blows for gnat stings, and they determined at any price to get rid of him. Next morning, therefore, they asked him if he had not a wife or child, and said that if he would like to go and visit them, they would give him a bag of gold to take away with him. He agreed willingly to this but asked further that one of the Darken should go with him to carry the bag of gold. They consented, and one was sent with him. When they had come to within a short distance of Lazarus’s house, he said to the Darken: ‘Stop here, in the meantime, for I must go on in front and tie up my children, lest they eat you.’ So he went and tied his children with strong ropes and said to them: ‘As soon as the Darken comes in sight, call out as loud as you can, “Drake flesh! Drake flesh!”’ So when the Darken appeared, the children cried out: ‘Drake flesh! Drake flesh!’ and this so terrified the Darken that he let the bag fall and fled. On the road, he met a fox, which asked him why he seemed so frightened. He answered that he was afraid of the children of Herr Lazarus, who had been within a hair’s breadth of eating him up. But the fox laughed and said: ‘What! you were afraid of the children of Herr Lazarus? He had two fouls, one of which I ate yesterday, the other I will go and fetch now–if you do not believe me, come and see for yourself; but you must first tie yourself on to my tail.’ The Darken then tied himself onto the fox’s tail and went back thus with it to Lazarus’s house, in order to see what it would arrange. There stood Lazarus with his gun raised ready to fire, who, when he saw the fox coming along with the Darken, called out to the fox: ‘Did I not tell you to bring me all the Darken, and you bring me only one?’ When the Darken heard that, he made off to the right about at once, and ran so fast that the fox was dashed in pieces against the stones. When Lazarus had got rid of the Darken, he built himself, with their gold, a magnificent house, in which he spent the rest of his days in great enjoyment. Up near the Village of Cream Puffs is a string of ball towns hiding in the tall grass. Passengers in the railroad trains look out of the windows and the tall grass stands up so they can’t see the ball towns. But the ball towns are there, and the tall grass is full of pitchers, catchers, basemen, fielders, short stops, sluggers, southpaws, and backstops. They play ball till dark, and after dark, they talk ball. The big fast ballplayers in the Rutabaga Country all come from these ball towns in the tall grass. The towns used to have names like names in books. But now the names are all like ball talk: Knock the Cover Off, Home Plate, Chest Protector, Grand Stand, Nine Innings, Three Balls and Two Strikes, Bases Full and Two Out, Big League, Bush League, Hot Grounder, Out Drop, Bee Liner, Muffs and Pick Ups, Slide Kelly Slide, Paste It On the Nose. Now the Night Policeman in the Village of Cream Puffs stopped in at the Cigar Store one night and a gang of cub ballplayers loafing and talking ball talk asked him if there was anything in the wind. And he told them this happening: “I was sitting on the front steps of the post office last night thinking how many letters get lost and how many letters never get answered. A ballplayer came along with a package and said his name was Butter Fingers and he was the heavy hitter, the hard slugger, for the Grand Stand ball team playing a championship game the day before with the Hot Grounders ball team. He came to the Village of Cream Puffs the day before the game, found a snood and a gringo and got the snood and the gringo to make him a home run shirt. Wearing a home run shirt, he told me, you knock a home run every time you come to bat. He said he knocked a home run every time he came to bat, and it was his home runs won the game for the Grand Standers. He was carrying a package and said the home run shirt was in the package and he was taking it back to the snood and the gringo because he promised he wouldn’t keep it, and it belonged to the snood and the gringo and they only rented it to him for the championship game. The last I saw of him he was hot-footing it pitty-pat pity- pat up the street with the package. “Well, I just said tra-la-loo to Butter Fingers when along comes another ballplayer. He had a package too, and he said his name was Three Strikes, and he was the left-handed southpaw pitcher for the Hot Grounders team the day before playing a game against the Grand Stand team. He said he knew unless he put over some classy pitching the game was lost and everything was goose eggs. So he came to the Village of Cream Puffs the day before the game, found a snood and a gringo and got the snood and the gringo to make him a spit ball shirt. A spit ball looks easy, he told me, but it has smoke and whiskers and nobody can touch it. He said he handed the Grand Standers a line of in-shoots close to their chins and they never got to first base. Three Strikes was carrying a package and he said the spit ball shirt was in the package, and he was taking it back to the snood and the gringo because he promised he wouldn’t keep it and it belonged to the snood and the gringo and they only rented it to him. The last I saw of him he was hot-footing it pitty-pat up the street with a package.” The gang of cub ballplayers in the Cigar, Store asked the Night Policeman, “Who won the game? Was it the Grand Standers or the Hot Grounders took the gravy?” You can search me for the answer,” he told the boys. “If the snood and the gringo come past the post office to-night when I sit on the front steps wondering how so many letters get lost and how so many never get answered, I will ask the snood and the gringo and if they tell me to-night I’ll tell you to-morrow night.” And ever since then when they talk ball talk in the ball towns hiding in the tall grass they say the only sure way to win a ball game is to have a pitcher with a spit ball shirt and over that a home run shirt, both made by a snood and a gringo.