Daily Short Stories - Children's Stories
The Culprit Fay
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- Duration:
- 5m
- Broadcast on:
- 01 Jul 2024
- Audio Format:
- mp3
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Call clickgranger.com or just stop by. Granger, for the ones who get it done. The culprit Faye by Charles M. Skinner. The wood-ticks drum convokes the elves at the noon of night on Cronus' top. And clamoring out of their flower cup beds and hammocks of cobweb, they fly to the meeting, not to freak about the grass or banquet at the mushroom table, but to hear a sentence passed on the Faye, who, forgetting his vestal vow, has loved an earthly maid. From his throne under a canopy of tulip petals, born on pillars of shell, the king commands silence. And with severe eye, but softened voice, he tells the culprit that while he has gone the royal decree, he has saved himself from the extreme penalty of imprisonment in walnut shells and cobweb dungeons by loving a maid who is gentle and pure. So it shall be enough if he will go down to the Hudson and seize a drop from the bow of mist, that a sturgeon leaves when he makes his leap, and, after, to candle his darkened flamewood lamp at a meteor spark. The fairy bows, and, without a word, slowly descends the rocky steep, for his wing is soiled and has lost its power. But once at the river, he tugs a mane at a mussel shell till he has it afloat. Then, leaping in, he paddles out with a strong grass blade till he comes to the spot where the sturgeon swells. Though the water sprites plague him and toss his boat, and the fish and the leeches, bunt and drag. But suddenly, the sturgeon shoots from the water, and air at the ark of mist that he tracks through the air has vanished. The sprite has caught a drop of the spray and a tiny blossom, and, in this, he washes clean his wings. The water goblins torment him no longer. They push his boat to the shore, where, alighting, he kisses his hand. Then, even as a bubble, he flies back to the mountain top. Daunts his acorn helmet, his coarsalit of beehide, his shield of the ladybug shell, and grasping his lance, tipped with wasp stem, he bistrides his firefly steed, and off he goes like a flash. The world spreads out and then grows small, but he flies straight on. The ice ghosts, leer from the topmost clouds, and the mist's surge round, but he shakes his lance and pipes his call, and at last he comes to the Milky Way, where the sky-sulfs lead him to their queen, who lies couched in a palace, sealed with stars. It's dome held up by northern lights, and the curtains made of the morning's flush. Her mantle is twilight purple, tied with threads of gold from the eastern dawn, and her face is as fair as a silver moon. She begs the fey to stay with her and taste forever the joys of heaven, but the nightly elf keeps down the beating of his heart, for he remembers a face on earth that is fairer than hers, and he begs to go. With a sigh, she fits him with a car of cloud, with the firefly steed channed on behind, and he hurries away to the northern sky whence the meteor comes, with roar and whirl, and as it passes it bursts to flame. He lights his lamp at a glowing spark, then wills away to the fairy land. His king and his brothers hail him stotly with song and shout and feast and dance, and the revel is kept till the eastern sky has a ready streak. Then the cock crows shrill and the face are gone. - Lucky land slots, asking people, what's the weirdest place you've gotten lucky? - Lucky? In line at the deli, I guess? - Aha, in my dentist's office. More than once, actually. - Do I have to say? - Yes, you do. - In the car, before my kids' PTA meeting. - Really? - Yes. - Excuse me, what's the weirdest place you've gotten lucky? - I never win and tell. - Well, there you have it. - You could get lucky anywhere, playing at luckylandslots.com. Play for free right now. Are you feeling lucky? No purchase necessary. 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