Ting-a-ling’s visit to Tur-i-li-ra
by
One pleasant sunny day, the Giant Tur-il-i-ra was lying on his back on the grass, under some great trees, in a wood near the palace of the King.
His feet were high above the rest of his body, resting in the crotch of a great oak-tree, and he lay with his vest open and his hat off, idly sucking the pith from a young sapsago-tree that he had just broken off. Near him, on the top of a tall bulrush, sat the little fairy Ting-a-ling. They had been talking together for some time, and Tur-il-i-ra said, “Ting-a-ling, you must come and see me. You have never been to my castle except when you came for the good of somebody else. Come now for yours and mine, and stay at least a week. We will have a gay old time. Will you come?”
“I will,” cried the little fairy, in a voice as clear as the chirp of a cricket. “I’ll come whenever you say so.”
“Let it be to-morrow, then,” said the Giant. “Shall I fetch you?”
“O no,” said Ting-a-ling; “I will come on my blue butterfly. You have no idea how fast he flies. I do believe he could go to your castle nearly as fast as you could yourself.”
“All right,” said Tur-il-i-ra, rising. “Come as you please, but be sure you come to stay.”
Then the Giant got up, and he shook himself, and buttoned his vest, and put on his hat, and as he had thin boots on, he told Ting-a-ling he was going to see if he couldn’t take the river at one jump. So, tightening his belt, and going back for a good run, he rushed to the river bank, and with a spring like the jerk of five mad elephants, he bounded across. But the opposite bank was not hard enough to resist the tremendous fall of so many tons of giant as came upon it when Tur-il-i-ra’s feet touched its edge; and it gave way, and his feet went up and his back came down, and into the river, like a ship dropping out of the sky, went the mighty Giant. The splash was so great that the whole air, for a minute or two, was full of water and spray, and Ting-a-ling could see nothing at all. When things had become visible again, there was Tur-il-i-ra standing up to the middle of his thighs in the channel of the river, and brushing from his eyes and his nose the water that trickled from him like little brooks.
“Hel-l-o-o-o!” cried Ting-a-ling. “Are you hurt?”
“O no!” spluttered the Giant. “The water and the mud were soft enough, but I’m nearly blinded and choked.”
“It’s a good thing it isn’t worse,” cried the fairy. “If that river had not been so broad, you would have broken your neck when you came down.”
“Good-by!” cried the Giant, stepping upon the bank; “I must hurry home as fast as I can.” And so away he went over the hills at a run, and you may rest assured that he did not jump any more rivers that day.
The next morning early, Ting-a-ling mounted his blue butterfly, and over the fields he went almost as fast as a bird, for his was a butterfly of the desert, where they have to fly very far for anything to eat, and to race for it very often at that. Ting-a-ling took nothing with him but what he wore, but his “things” and his best clothes were to be sent after him on a beetle, which, though slow, was very strong, and could have carried, if he chose, everything that Ting-a-ling had. About sunset, the fairy and the butterfly, the latter very tired, arrived at the castle of Tur-il-i-ra, and there, at the great door, stood the Giant, expecting them, with his face beaming with hospitality and delight. He had had his slaves, for the whole afternoon, scattered along the road by which his visitor would come; and they were commanded to keep a sharp lookout for a blue butterfly, and pass the word to the castle when they saw it coming. So Tur-il-i-ra was all ready; and as he held out his finger, the butterfly was glad enough to fly up and light upon it. The good Giant took them both into the house, and the butterfly was put on a top-shelf, where there were some honey-jars, and if he didn’t eat!