University of Virginia Library

30. XXX
GRANDPA AND THE PURPLE FAIRY

ONE day Johnnie and Billie Bushytail were out walking with Grandpa Lightfoot, with whom they lived, when their papa and mamma were in a cage. They had come over to bring him some pieces of hickory-nut cake, which their mamma had made, and the old gentleman squirrel liked it very much, let me tell you. In fact, I'm very fond of that kind myself, and I s'pose you are too.

Well, as they walked along Grandpa Lightfoot kept going slower and slower, and sometimes he would have to use his cane to help him climb a tree and get down again.

“Grandpa, what makes you walk so slowly?” asked Billie.

“I guess it's because he's tired,” suggested Johnnie.

“No, boys, it isn't that,” answered grandpa. “I'm getting old, that's the trouble. Getting old,” and then he put his paw to his back, which, at that moment, had a pain in it. “I'm not a young and frisky squirrel like you boys,” he went on. “I'm afraid your grandfather will never be able to jump from one tall tree to another any more,” and he spoke quite sadly.

“Oh, yes, you will!” exclaimed Johnnie. “See, grandpa, here are some fine acorns. Are your teeth strong enough to crack them?” and he ran down to the ground, got some nice acorns, and brought them to his grandpa.

“Oh, yes, my teeth are all right,” answered the old gentleman squirrel, “and I can see

good. In fact, I don't think I am so very old. If it wasn't for my white tail and the pain in my back I'd seem quite young, I think.”

Then they walked on a little farther, but Grandpa Lightfoot kept going slower and slower, until finally he said:

“I guess you boys had better run along without me. Grandpa is getting too tired. You run along home, and tell your mamma I'm much obliged for that cake. I'll just take a little nap in this tree, and then I'll go home too. Yep, grandpa is getting old,” and the poor old squirrel gave a sigh, for you know it isn't nice to think you're growing old; that is, too old. Of course, I don't count nine or ten or even eleven or twelve or thirteen. But after that, well, it's getting on, let me tell you.

Well, Billie and Johnnie felt pretty badly when they saw how feeble their grandpa was.

They started home, leaving him taking his nap, when all at once Billie said:

“Johnnie, if we could only find a nice, good, kind fairy, I think she would make grandpa feel better.”

“How?” asked Johnnie.

“Well, she would take that pain out of his back, and make him younger.”

“Fine!” cried Johnnie. “If we only could. Let's look around.”

So they looked carefully around, but they couldn't see any fairies. All the fairies seemed to be away that day. At last Billie saw a lovely purple flower, and he was going to pick it to take home to his mamma, when Johnnie called out:

“Oh, it's too pretty to pick. Leave it in the woods, where it's cool and moist. It will last longer.”

“All right,” said his brother, “I will.”

[Description: Full page color illustration by Louis Wisa, showing three squirrels and a fairy.]

And the next minute if they didn't hear a voice coming out of that flower, saying:

“Oh, it's a fairy! It's a fairy!” cried Billie, and, sure enough, if a lovely little purple fairy lady didn't step down out of that flower.

“What are your three wishes, boys?” she asked, smiling at them.

“Let's wish for an automobile!” whispered Johnnie to his brother.

“No,” answered Billie. “I have an idea. Can you make old folks think they're young?” he inquired of the purple lady.

“Of course I can!” cried the fairy. “It's the easiest thing in the world. All I have

to do is to make them happy and contented, and they'll be as young as ever. Of course, I have to say the magical word, too.”

So Billie and Johnnie told the fairy about their grandpa, and how he was growing old.

“Take me to him at once,” she commanded, and they led her to where the old gentleman squirrel was asleep in the tree, and he was snoring the least little bit.

“Grandpa, here is a fairy come to make you feel young,” said Billie.

“Hey? What's that? A fairy to make me young? Stuff and nonsensicalness!” cried the old squirrel. “Fairies are all bosh! I think you boys have been dreaming of fairies lately,” and he sat up, and rubbed his eyes and put on his spectacles, which had fallen off. “Fairies are all bosh!” he repeated.

“Oh, indeed they're not,” said the purple

fairy with a laugh. “Just you wait and see.” So she pronounced the magical word, “Piddlepaddlepodlepum!” (only you mustn't say it, you know) and then she waved her magic wand three times.

Then a wonderful thing happened. Grandpa's bushy tail, that had turned white because he was so old, got a nice silver-gray in an instant, and the pain in his back went right away. Then he straightened up, and he cried:

“Well, well, I certainly do feel better! I feel ever so much younger again. I guess I'm wrong about fairies being bosh. I'm ever so much obliged to you, my dear little lady. I surely do feel fine! Thank you so much!”

“Oh, that's all right,” spoke the fairy with a laugh that showed her little white teeth, smaller than Jennie Chipmunk's, “I'm glad you feel better. Now I must go.” So she

turned into a humming-bird and flew away, and Johnnie and Billie Bushytail went to their home, and Grandpa frisked along to his home, as lively as a young puppy dog. Of course he wasn't really any younger, but he felt so, and that made the difference. Now to-morrow night, if no one tickles me with a feather when I'm asleep, I'm going to tell you something wonderful about Grandma Lightfoot.