Posted by Gobnait on February 21, 2000 at 00:42:52:
In Reply to: More stories for your enjoyment posted by Gobnait on February 21, 2000 at 00:36:41:
The Practical Pixy
This tale first was told by a fine gentleman named Hans Christian Anderson, who called it "The Pixy and the Grocer"
In the tradition of tale-tellers, I have reworked it to fit our lands of Thera.
In Arkham, there lives a fine baker, a very fine baker indeed, by the name of Candi.
You may wonder why her confections are so divine.
Well, it is because of the house pixy that lives with her, of course.
Every yuletide, Candi sets out a superb, seven-layered, chocolate cake with chocolate icing for the pixy.
That Candi can afford, therefore the pixy stays with her, and from that a moral can be drawn.
Not too long ago, Candi decided to let out her upstairs garret to one of the poor students from the university.
One evening, the student came downstairs to buy his daily loaf of bread.
But then he began to read the paper wrapped around the bread.
It was a page torn from an old book of poetry that deserved a better fate than to be used as wrapping paper.
Most of the pages of that book are still here. You can have the rest for eight coins.
Thank you. Let me have what is left and only half the loaf of bread.
You are a splendid person, a practical woman, but you have no idea of what poetry is.
As this had been said in fun, both Candi and the student laughed, but the pixy was annoyed.
He thought it was an insult to the baker, who after all made the finest cakes in all the land.
"I'll fix that student!" muttered the pixy, and that night he sneaked up to the garret.
A light was burning in the room, and the pixy looked through the keyhole at the student reading the book.
How bright the room seemed!
It was as if a ray of light came from the book, a luminous tree whose branches spread out across the ceiling.
The leaves were fresh and green and on each branch flowers bloomed and fruit hung.
The flowers were the faces of young maidens, some with radiant dark eyes and others with sparkling blue ones.
The fruits were twinkling stars. All the while the most beautiful music could be heard.
Such splendor the little pixy had never seen or even thought possible.
He looked and looked until the light was put out and even then lingered there, still hearing the music.
"But that was fantastic! That I had not expected! I think I will move in with the student!"
Then he thought, and very sensibly, "But the student does not have any cake."
sigh
Back downstairs he went to Candi, but he no longer spent all his time there.
No, as soon as the student had lit his candle, the pixy was drawn like a moth.
He cried without knowing why but found that in those tears happiness was hidden.
How wonderful it would be to stay with the student and read the poetry together!
But each night, he hurried back down to his warm corner beside the ovens.
At yuletide, when the seven layer cake was served, the pixy acknowledged no other mistress than Candi.
Then one night, the pixy was awakened by a terrible noise!
People were banging on shutters and the whole street was lit up from a fire!
Everyone rushed about, trying to save what was dearest to them, and so did the pixy.
He ran up to the student's room, snatched the book of poetry, and hid it in his red hat!
He had saved the most valuable thing in the house.
He sat outside, holding his treasure tightly in both hands.
Now he finally understood his heart's desire, where his loyalty belonged!
But when the fire was put out, he thought again.
"I will share myself between them, for I cannot leave Candi altogether."
"I must stay there for the sake of the cake."
Quite human, don't you think? After all, we, too, go to the baker for the cake's sake.