one summer afternoon the talking chair told the following story to aunt polly, who told it to dorothy, who told it to me:—

once upon a time in a bright country lived the most beautiful little queen in all the world. she was called content, and while she reigned, there was great happiness among her people.

indeed, they were so very happy that a certain wicked old woman who rides through the air on a broomstick grew very jealous.

she did not like to see anybody happy, so she began to plot and plan a way to get rid of queen content.

“if i could only drive her out of the hearts of these simple people all would be well,” said the old woman. then she went about among the people doing all sorts of mischief; telling247 stories, spoiling their lovely gardens, and predicting all kinds of misfortune. but in spite of all her evil doings the people cherished queen content, and they scarcely noticed the wicked old woman.

at last she grew very angry. she took her old broom and swept great clouds of dust that filled the good people’s eyes, so that they could not see clearly at all. then they became dissatisfied, and one day they sent their beautiful queen away and put another in her place.

the new queen began her reign with a great flourish of trumpets. she was not beautiful at all, and was called queen discord.

she found fault with everything and was never at rest. costly festivals, cruel wars, and foolish undertakings were all the time going on, and the people became poorer and more unhappy every day.

when the old woman on the broomstick saw this state of affairs, she laughed long and loud,248 and sailed away to do mischief elsewhere. in the meantime queen content had moved into a small cottage on the outskirts of the village. it contained only two rooms, but in the lovely queen’s eyes it was as dear as any palace. the beautiful flower fields were her gardens and she rejoiced in the still walks of the green woods.

sometimes rumors reached her of the doings of queen discord, but they never disturbed her peace of mind.

one dark night a traveler knocked at queen content’s door. he was a rollicking, roving merry lad, and his name was jock.

when queen content opened the door jock made a low bow, saying, “i have traveled far and am weary; may i enter your cottage?”

“whoever knocks at my door may find rest. enter and welcome,” was the answer.

jock entered and queen content gave him a good supper. it was only bread and milk, to be sure, but no dainties at the table of a king ever249 tasted better. and although the bed that jock slept on was made of straw, he had never rested so well in his life.

the next morning jock continued his journey to the village. he had not been there very long when he discovered the true state of affairs.

he realized that the foolish people had put away the most beautiful queen in the world for the most disagreeable.

“i’m going to help these foolish people,” said jock to himself, and he shook all over with merriment at the mere thought of doing them a good turn.

straight he went to the palace of queen discord and begged an audience with her most obnoxious majesty.

“what do you want, good-for-nothing?” said the haughty queen, frowning on jock, who stood cap in hand with a quizzical look on his merry face.

“i have good news for your majesty,” said jock with a grin.

“good news!” thundered the horrid queen.

“it is against our laws. you shall be thrown into prison; we don’t want people who go about telling good news.”

jock’s grin broadened, but he saw his mistake and quickly added: “ah! your majesty, i have just traveled through your uncle’s kingdom—king hate—and i found nothing there but strife and confusion and bitterness of spirit. your people are so much happier that i was only going to remind you of the fact. surely that is good news.”

when jock made this little speech the queen’s eyes (they were great, green jealous eyes) flashed, but she was silent for a moment.

“strife, confusion, and bitterness of spirit.” the words were sweet as honey to queen discord’s taste, and she repeated them over and over to herself. they are just what i want,251 thought the queen, and she regarded jock with great interest, saying:

“tell me how to stir up strife, confusion and bitterness of spirit in this old kingdom and your reward shall be great.”

“i know that it will,” thought jock grinning all over. aloud he said, “give me three days and i’ll return with something that will surely please your most sea-green majesty.”

so saying he almost doubled in two with laughter, and tossing his bright cap into the air, left the presence of the frowning queen.

straight to the heart of the merry green woods ran jock. he played leap-frog with elves and danced with wood-nymphs. they all loved him because he was so merry, and he feared no one because his heart was innocent as that of a little child.

by and by jock told about his conversation with queen discord, and when he had finished252 such a merry shout went up from every elf, wood-nymph and fairy that the very leaves shook and an acorn fell to the ground.

“now you must help me,” said jock; “you must tell me, good friends, what to do.”

“’tis the pipes, ’tis the pipes that you want,” said a jolly elf, “that is the remedy for queen discord.”

then they all whispered something in jock’s ear, which made him shake all over with mirth. every elf, wood-nymph and fairy had a little secret for him, and they told it so softly that even a gray squirrel who listened with all his might could not hear.

when they had told the secret they were merrier than ever. they all took hands and with jock in the middle, danced a jolly ring around him.

“jock o’ the pipes, jock o’ the pipes,” sang the merry elves, as they tripped round and round, stopping now and then to whisper some253 new idea. jock laughed himself to sleep. then the fairies left him.

when jock awoke, he rubbed his eyes and looked around him. his late adventure was still fresh in his mind and he laughed aloud. just then he spied a small bag made of skin, on the ground at his feet.

“i know what that is for,” said jock with a broad grin. he recalled the secrets that the merry elves had whispered.

jock slung the bag across his shoulder and away he ran out of the woods with peals of laughter waiting on his steps.

he traveled fast and at moonlight stood near a fence in a big city laughing softly to himself.

suddenly strange sounds filled the still air.

jock looked up and beheld a band of cats on the fence. at first he thought they were merely giving a concert to the good people of the neighborhood, but very soon he saw his mistake.

as he looked they began to slap each other254 right in the face, with uplifted paws and spat at each other with angry jaws. suddenly a battered, yellow, one-eyed, tailless tommy got his back up about something and cried like a baby. his granddaughter rebuked him with a gentle scratch. then there was a rush, and instead of thirty-two cats in a line there were thirty-two cats in a ball. and it wasn’t football either.

there were howls, shrieks, moans, and cat-calls. in the very midst of it all jock opened his bag.

in the twinkling of an eye the fighting cats dropped into the bag, which shut up tight again, and jock continued his journey.

but he was laughing so hard that he had to stand a moment to recover himself.

a little farther on he heard loud barking.

“’tis the watch-dog’s honest bark,” quoted jock; but just then he heard a terrible uproar and he realized his mistake.

he came upon a crowd of snapping, snarling,255 barking curs. he listened to their disputes for three minutes. “ha-a, now i see,” said jock with a chuckle; “these dogs, that i supposed were honest watch-dogs, are all politicians. ’tis a meeting of their common council.”

just then the chairman gave a fierce bark, whereupon all the others howled in concert and made a spring for the chairman’s collar. when the dismal yells were at the very worst jock opened his bag. in a second every barking, snapping, snarling dog went head first into it. not another sound out of them. jock laughed heartily and hurried on.

you must not forget, little reader, that it was a fairy bag, and no matter how much went into it, it did not get an inch larger or an ounce heavier. in his path jock met many other occupants for his bag. a scolding wife, a grouty husband, a croaking gossip all found their way into the wonderful bag, and after each addition jock was merrier than ever.

he passed a church and heard music.

“that’s in my line,” said jock with a grin, and he stole softly into the choir. the female soprano had the floor and the ceiling too, while a long-suffering congregation tried not to look grieved.

just as she reached a top note with a shivering little curleycue attached, jock saw a nervous brother clutch his seat and a sympathetic sister gasp. that note had been issued just thirty-seven years and jock had come to collect it. the little bag opened and plumb into it went the shrieking soprano.

it was several minutes before jock recovered from the fit of merriment that followed the last disappearance. then he went on.

in the meantime he bagged the piano next door, the cornet across the street, the concertina up-stairs and a few other simple but effective species, including, “dot leetle german band.”

“it is useless, i cannot go another step until257 i have had my laugh out,” said jock as he sat himself down on the steps of a great building and shook all over for a good ten minutes.

in the midst of his hilarity, he heard a voice. it jarred him. “that’s a school marm addressing her pupils,” quoth jock. for a second he made a wry face, then his eyes twinkled, and he arose and stole into the school-room, hiding behind a great globe.

the teacher had forgotten how to talk in natural tones and was yelling in an a sharp and d flat voice.

“the poor children,” sighed jock, looking serious for one second. then he grinned, opened the bag and the unnatural tones vanished right into it.

continuing his journey he caught “annie ould r-r-rags” and all her relations.

suddenly jock found himself in a western city and was delighted to hear that a meeting of birds was in progress, for the elation and elevation258 of their sex (they were all ladies, by the way). jock loved the ladies, so he stole softly in to their meeting. but oh, what a shock did little jock get! the birds were having a terrible battle with their tongues and jock was so surprised that he even forgot about his bag.

it was all on account of a poor little bird who wanted to attend the meeting and would not be permitted to. and why? because she was black and the other birds were white (outside).

“but i thought this meeting was good of all birds,” ventured one fair-minded little creature. whereupon there was a storm of wrath and scorn. this brought jock to his senses. cautious, as a good fisherman, for birds have wings, jock opened his bag, and every unjust, discordant vibration was swallowed up.

“i’m a bit weary now,” said jock with a chuckle, “so i’ll return without looking farther.”

so saying, he hurried along and stopped up259 his ears, so that he would not hear any more discord.

that night jock slept in the merry green woods with the fairy bag for a pillow.

the elves came when he was dreaming and examined the contents of the bag.

“it will do very well,” said a jolly elf, and he attached two tiny pipes to the top of jock’s bag.

the elves reveled all night and whispered new secrets in jock’s ear. when the first streak of dawn came through the trees they hurried away to fairyland, but not before the jolly elf dropped a small chain at jock’s feet.

bright and smiling jock awoke.

“it is the third day,” sang jock as he washed his merry face in a buttercup of dew.

“now i must hurry to the castle,” said he, stooping to pick up his bag.

all at once he noticed the pipes, which made him shake all over with mirth.

“it looks for all the world like bagpipes now,” cried jock, “and maybe it is a new kind.”

then he spied the chain, which he slipped into his pocket.

“o that jolly elf, he never forgets anything,” said jock, and just then some merry recollection of the jolly elf flashed into jock’s mind and he rolled over and over with laughter.

suddenly he jumped to his feet, took up his pipes and was soon out of the woods.

when he reached the castle he found queen discord on her throne, surrounded by a host of unwilling followers.

jock approached the throne, bowed low and said: “’tis the pipes, ’tis the pipes that you want. that is the remedy for queen discord.” so saying he slipped the chain out of his pocket and presented it to the queen, who immediately fastened it around her neck. quick as a flash jock’s deft fingers attached the chain to the pipes.

queen discord arose from her throne and began to speak. but horrors! no sooner did she open her mouth than the pipes began to play—and you know what was in that bag. the most awful, horrid, harsh, discordant sounds rent the air and the people fled in terror.

when queen discord saw the effect of the pipes, she tried to pull them off. but they were fastened around her neck by a fairy chain and no mortal power could remove them. she hurried from the throne and ran out of the castle, the awful pipes playing all the time.

women and children ran from her in horror, but a crowd of angry men with sticks and stones chased her out of the village.

on and on ran queen discord, making nature groan with her horrid pipes. at last she was out of hearing and the people never saw her again. in a few days they restored beautiful queen content and were once more happy.

one summer evening many years later a262 traveler came to queen content’s country. he had traveled far and was weary, but he stopped to listen to the most beautiful music he had ever heard.

it was queen content’s symphony orchestra playing on the green.

do you know, little reader, what a symphony orchestra is? no? then ask papa and mamma. if you live in boston they will tell you about delightful saturday evenings in winter, when they go to a concert. or better still ask big sister. watch her face light up as she tells you about “dreamy” friday afternoons; her “magnificent” conductor, the “perfectly exquisite” first violin, etc., etc.

the adjectives are big sister’s—not mine.

well, dear, in queen content’s country, love was the leader of the symphony orchestra, and he was assisted by faith, hope, peace, industry, thrift, health and many other players.

the traveler watched a band of laughing263 children on the green and the sounds of the beautiful orchestra gladdened his ears.

he closed his tired eyes and fell asleep. queen content found the traveler on her way and kissed his bonny face. it was jock o’ the pipes.