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How joy was found a fantasy

Isobel Wylie Hutchison

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HOW JOY WAS FOUND How Joy was Found _A Fantasy_ BY ISOBEL W. HUTCHISON
Illustration note [Illustration]
NEW YORK FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY PUBLISHERS COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY ISOBEL W. HUTCHISON PREFACE This study in the psychology of Faith is founded on an old Scottish folk-tale told me last year at Onich by Mr. Alexander Cameron, who, a good many years ago, had given it also to the Rev. J. Macdougall of Duror, in whose volume, _Waifs and Strays of Celtic Tradition_, now out of print, it is included. Mr. Macdougall’s version is printed in full at the end of this volume. I have used the story as the framework of an allegory, and have not tried to rival Mr. Macdougall’s narrative, nor have I often kept very close to the text. Most of these beautiful Highland tales are in such intimate touch with nature that they lend themselves very readily to further development, and the story of _How Finn Kept His Children for the Big Young Hero_ seemed to adapt itself wonderfully to my purpose. I. W. H. CARLOWRIE, WEST LOTHIAN, _June, 1917_. _The Characters_ THE BIG YOUNG HERO: One who goes out at the beginning, comes in at the end, and appears unexpectedly all through. FINN: Humanity, a long-suffering man. THE CARPENTER: Duty, a scientific man. THE TRACKER: Obedience, a dutiful man. THE GRIPPER: Constancy, a patient man. THE CLIMBER: Faith, a girl who is more than quite all there. THE THIEF: Love, an old woman wearing a chaperon. THE LISTENER: Hope, a boy wearing a smile. THE MARKSMAN: Truth, a straightforward man carrying a bow and arrows. THE GIANT: A mere notion. THE DOG: Fear (never visible). HER PUPPY, BRAN: Joy. Given to Hope for the present. THE BABY: The Rest of Humanity. GONACHRY: The Heart-wounder, a sarcastic man. ANGUS: A good-natured lazy man. TORQUIL } CONAN } Unemotional men. CONDHLA } ACT I THE GREEN ISLE. EVENING _This Earthly Paradise lies across the western main before you come to the sunset. It is seen imperfectly, like a thought not fully realized, and shimmers as if through a rainbow. It is thus described by one who has been there:_ _“Fair is that land to all eternity beneath the snowfall of blossoms. The gleaming walls are bright with many colours, the plains are vocal with joyous cries, mirth and song are at home on the plain, the silver-clouded one. No wailing there for judgment, naught but sweet song to be heard. No pain, no grief, no death, no discord, no sin, no decay, but ever we feast and need none to serve us, ever we love and no strife ensues. Such is the land.”_ _In this place the Big Young Hero, the most attractive person ever imagined, is seen vaguely as if through a radiant light. He is seated alone on the grass watching the flowers in the midst of great beauty. Far off across the sea the outline of the Hebrides is faintly seen, and presently a brown-sailed fishing-boat appears on the edge of the horizon and approaches the shore. As it nears, the figure of a girl is discerned kneeling up in the bows, shading her eyes with her hand, and gazing earnestly towards the shore. She carries a coil of rope over her shoulder. As she draws near her voice is heard saying:_ CLIMBER My anchorage was not as beautiful as I thought And I have weighed anchor and sailed away. I trust that my boat will be brought Into haven before the end of the day. I do not wish to voyage till sunset In this yeasty fret. Captain! there is no harbour that is beautiful save Thine. Why dost thou reserve it for the evening mariners? Their eyes are old and full of brine, They cannot see the stars. But mine are young, and I can count them all, I praise Thee, for they are full of light, Therefore bring me into Thy harbour before the shadows fall, That I may praise Thee louder—in the young night. [_As the boat nears the isle it comes into calm water. The big Young Hero goes down to meet it and helps the girl ashore, drawing up the boat._] HERO The end of all thought is peace, And you have found ere night the day’s increase. The bright and radiant day is loath to die, Even yet there are hardly any stars in the sky, Only a soft dim radiance under the moon, And dark trees on the brightness. Very soon You will be gathered in a thoughtful rest, And fall asleep like a bird up there in its nest. Are you not glad at last to realize Your insubstantial dream that never dies? CLIMBER Yes, but I’m wearied. I’ve had rather a fight To get here all right, The sea’s so deep. HERO Take your sleep. [_He sits down as before and draws her on to his knee, and she falls asleep at once with her head on his shoulder, like a tired child. He also appears to sleep. Presently the shadow of a man carrying a rainbow falls across his face, and a dream is heard singing._] DREAM The gates of Heaven are pearls, and stand four-square, And people enter in from everywhere. But when the heather’s on the ben And the wind races down the glen And in the wake of Highland ships The creaking sea-gull wheels and dips, And on the bogs, the hills below, The cotton-grass and myrtle blow— Bog-myrtle, with the spicy breath Of bitter-sweet and life and death— I’m glad to think that God has heard The meaning of the unspoken word, The stammering whisper of a tongue That learned no speech the hills among, The supplication of a hand Too fierce for men to understand, And that for such as me He’ll wait In silence by His northern gate. [_The shadow falls across the girl’s face, and she stirs and smiles in her sleep, and a dream-shadow goes from her also, singing. The two shadows meet, and passing into each other, become one._] GIRL’S DREAM I love to think that, high in Heaven, Above the stars, the planets seven, Daybreak and darkness—if I’m there!— I’ll feel the wind stir in my hair, And Heaven’s steadfast floor will float Like water underneath a boat, And, looking down across the gold I’ll see the sunset, fold on fold, Go tumbling down the sky’s wild screes Beyond the Outer Hebrides. Then something in my heart will stir Like earth when spring remembers her, And I’ll ask, firm but quite polite, If God will set my compass right, And if He’ll aiblins help to bail My old boat with the tattered sail, And lend a hand to launch her clear Of Heaven, unless there’s sea like here. [_The blended shadow falls across the face of the Big Young Hero, and he looks up._] SHADOW [_Stirring restlessly._] I need something. HERO Who touches me? SHADOW The shadow of a desire. HERO What do you require? SHADOW I don’t know. HERO I have sent you a dream. SHADOW I will no longer go After a dream. I do not want to be a bore, But I seem Nowadays to need something more; I feel That I have need of something real. [_The girl stirs, and gives a little sigh._] HERO Hush! if you talk so loud you’ll waken her Before she’s ready. She needs her rest just now. She mustn’t stir; She’s got to steady Her head a bit, for she’s spent hours Filling her mind with things like flowers, Till she had sucked out of earth’s genial root My name like a tender shoot That was bound to put her in mind Of something unconfined. SHADOW Oh, do be quick! I’m sick Of standing still. HERO There’s no use getting ill About it. I am with you now; The very first step to Heaven’s inside your brow. Look there, and tell me your most dear desire, For it is surely something you require. [_The shadow shifts to that of a carpenter._] CARPENTER I want something to do. HERO Who are you? CARPENTER I am a good carpenter. HERO How good are you? CARPENTER I had a sense of something due To someone, though I scarce kent who (It might have been myself or maybe you), And so, just at my own expense, I fashioned out of common sense A ship that’s bound to carry me From earth to Heaven, and as far’s I see, Ought to bring God again to me. HERO I have need of you. Show me your ship. [_The shadow of a large fine ship falls across the sea._] She is a very beautiful wide ship. Can you manage her alone? CARPENTER I would be the better of another, to do my bidding in her. HERO Send me your brother. [_The shadow shifts to that of a tracker._] HERO Who are you? TRACKER I am a good tracker. HERO How good are you? TRACKER I do what I am told, I wait and look, Silent, ready to hold. It is not true That I am idle. I am waiting for you. I hook Strange fish upon my individual line. No other hand could take them, they were mine From all eternity, and in the eternal sea They would be lost for ever but for me. HERO You are good enough to take his telling. TRACKER Yes, but the clouds are swelling, You might maybe lend us another man forby To hold the tiller, in case that he and I Are called to the sheets together By a sudden change in the weather. HERO Send me a man off the heather. [_The shadow shifts to that of a gripper._] HERO Who are you? SHADOW I am a good gripper. HERO How good are you? GRIPPER You call me insistently, Yet when I run blithely to the place Where your voice deaves be, you bar the door in my face. What for do you treat me thus and hide? For still I hear you calling me from the other side. I am going to hold on to the sneck and wait. I ken there is something behind the door; early and late You cry on me still.