Delphi Works of Ford Madox Ford (Illustrated) by Ford Madox Ford Page A
Authors: Ford Madox Ford
Ads: Link
will excuse me, your Majesty, I beg to differ from you when you refer to that conversation as pleasant. I myself heard it, or rather overheard it, and all I can say is I thought it most unpleasant, — most. That is, if your Majesty will excuse my remark.’
‘But I won’t,’ said the King suddenly. ‘I believe it was you that suggested I should be confined to a dark cellar for three weeks without food — eh!’
But the doctor suddenly remembered that he had an important case that demanded instant attention.
The King turned to the Princess and said:
‘Well — I suppose you can settle it for yourselves, you two, because I’m going now. I shall come and see you every seven years. Good-bye.’
And he suddenly turned into the Brown Owl, and flitted noiselessly off, before they could say ‘Good-bye,’ or anything else.
The Prince found that he could manage to postpone his affairs of State indefinitely, and in a few days the Prince and Princess were married and lived happily ever afterwards.
THE END
THE FEATH ER
Published a year after The Brown Owl in 1892, The Feather is Ford’s second book and another fairy story. Once again, the book was illustrated with a frontispiece by Ford’s famous grandfather. Having gained confidence after the publication of his first book, the eighteen year old Ford became more experimental in the second work, which is longer and contains more literary references, including allusions to works by Shakespeare and Chaucer.
The first edition
The frontispiece was drawn by the author’s grandfather Ford Madox Brown
TO JULIET
‘True, I talk of dreams,
Which are the children of an idle brain,
Begot of nothing but vain fantasy,
Which is as thin of substance as the air.’
THE FEATHER
ONCE upon a time there was a King who reigned over a country as yet, for a reason you may learn later on, undiscovered — a most lovely country, full of green dales and groves of oak, a land of dappled meadows and sweet rivers, a green cup in a circlet of mountains, in whose shadow the grass was greenest; and the only road to enter the country lay up steep, boiling waterfalls, and thereafter through rugged passes, the channels that the rivers had cut for themselves. Therefore, as you may imagine, the dwellers in the land were little troubled by inroads of hostile nations; and they lived peaceful lives, managing their own affairs, and troubling little about the rest of the world.
Now this King, like many kings before and after him, had a daughter who, while very young, had, I am sorry to say, been very self-willed; and the King, on the death of his wife, finding himself utterly unable to manage the Princess, handed her over to the care of an aged nurse, who, however, was not much more successful — but that is neither here nor there.
For years everything went on smoothly, and it seemed as if everything intended to go on smoothly until doomsday, in which case this history would probably never have been written. But one evening in summer the Princess and her nurse, who had by this time become less able than ever to manage her charge, sat on a terrace facing the west. The Princess had been amusing herself by pelting the swans swimming in the river with rose-leaves, which the indignant swans snapped up as they fluttered down on the air or floated by on the river.
But after a time she began to tire of this pastime, and sitting down, looked at the sun that was just setting, a blinding glare of orange flame behind the black hills. Suddenly she turned to the nurse and said:
‘What’s on the other side of the hills?’
‘Lawk-a-mussy-me, miss!’ answered the nurse, ‘I’m sure I don’t know. What a question to ask!’
‘Then why don’t you ask some one who has been there?’
‘Because no one ever has, miss.’
‘But why not?’
‘Because there’s a fiery serpent that eats every one who comes near the hills; and if you’re not eaten up, you’re bound to
‘But I won’t,’ said the King suddenly. ‘I believe it was you that suggested I should be confined to a dark cellar for three weeks without food — eh!’
But the doctor suddenly remembered that he had an important case that demanded instant attention.
The King turned to the Princess and said:
‘Well — I suppose you can settle it for yourselves, you two, because I’m going now. I shall come and see you every seven years. Good-bye.’
And he suddenly turned into the Brown Owl, and flitted noiselessly off, before they could say ‘Good-bye,’ or anything else.
The Prince found that he could manage to postpone his affairs of State indefinitely, and in a few days the Prince and Princess were married and lived happily ever afterwards.
THE END
THE FEATH ER
Published a year after The Brown Owl in 1892, The Feather is Ford’s second book and another fairy story. Once again, the book was illustrated with a frontispiece by Ford’s famous grandfather. Having gained confidence after the publication of his first book, the eighteen year old Ford became more experimental in the second work, which is longer and contains more literary references, including allusions to works by Shakespeare and Chaucer.
The first edition
The frontispiece was drawn by the author’s grandfather Ford Madox Brown
TO JULIET
‘True, I talk of dreams,
Which are the children of an idle brain,
Begot of nothing but vain fantasy,
Which is as thin of substance as the air.’
THE FEATHER
ONCE upon a time there was a King who reigned over a country as yet, for a reason you may learn later on, undiscovered — a most lovely country, full of green dales and groves of oak, a land of dappled meadows and sweet rivers, a green cup in a circlet of mountains, in whose shadow the grass was greenest; and the only road to enter the country lay up steep, boiling waterfalls, and thereafter through rugged passes, the channels that the rivers had cut for themselves. Therefore, as you may imagine, the dwellers in the land were little troubled by inroads of hostile nations; and they lived peaceful lives, managing their own affairs, and troubling little about the rest of the world.
Now this King, like many kings before and after him, had a daughter who, while very young, had, I am sorry to say, been very self-willed; and the King, on the death of his wife, finding himself utterly unable to manage the Princess, handed her over to the care of an aged nurse, who, however, was not much more successful — but that is neither here nor there.
For years everything went on smoothly, and it seemed as if everything intended to go on smoothly until doomsday, in which case this history would probably never have been written. But one evening in summer the Princess and her nurse, who had by this time become less able than ever to manage her charge, sat on a terrace facing the west. The Princess had been amusing herself by pelting the swans swimming in the river with rose-leaves, which the indignant swans snapped up as they fluttered down on the air or floated by on the river.
But after a time she began to tire of this pastime, and sitting down, looked at the sun that was just setting, a blinding glare of orange flame behind the black hills. Suddenly she turned to the nurse and said:
‘What’s on the other side of the hills?’
‘Lawk-a-mussy-me, miss!’ answered the nurse, ‘I’m sure I don’t know. What a question to ask!’
‘Then why don’t you ask some one who has been there?’
‘Because no one ever has, miss.’
‘But why not?’
‘Because there’s a fiery serpent that eats every one who comes near the hills; and if you’re not eaten up, you’re bound to
Similar Books
