any shelves of
books, gravely but richly bound. The white light of the astral-lamp,
and the red glow of the bright coal-fire, made the room brilliant and
cheerful; and before the fire, in a deep arm-chair, sat Mr. Pringle,
looking just fit to be seated in such a chair, and in such a room. He
was a tall and quite a handsome gentleman, with a bald brow; and was
always so nicely dressed, that even Eustace Bright never liked to
enter his presence without at least pausing at the threshold to settle
his shirt-collar. But now, as Primrose had hold of one of his hands,
and Periwinkle of the other, he was forced to make his appearance
with a rough-and-tumble sort of look, as if he had been rolling all
day in a snow-bank. And so he had.
Mr. Pringle turned towards the student benignly enough, but in a way
that made him feel how uncombed and unbrushed he was, and how uncombed
and unbrushed, likewise, were his mind and thoughts.
"Eustace," said Mr. Pringle, with a smile, "I find that you are
producing a great sensation among the little public of Tanglewood, by
the exercise of your gifts of narrative. Primrose here, as the little
folks choose to call her, and the rest of the children, have been so
loud in praise of your stories, that Mrs. Pringle and myself are
really curious to hear a specimen. It would be so much the more
gratifying to myself, as the stories appear to be an attempt to render
the fables of classical antiquity into the idiom of modern fancy and
feeling. At least, so I judge from a few of the incidents which have
come to me at second hand."
"You are not exactly the auditor that I should have chosen, sir,"
observed the student, "for fantasies of this nature."
"Possibly not," replied Mr. Pringle. "I suspect, however, that a young
author's most useful critic is precisely the one whom he would be
least apt to choose. Pray oblige me, therefore."
"Sympathy, methinks, should have some little share in the critic's
qualifications," murmured Eustace Bright. "However, sir, if you will
find patience, I will find stories. But be kind enough to remember
that I am addressing myself to the imagination and sympathies of the
children, not to your own."
Accordingly, the student snatched hold of the first theme which
presented itself. It was suggested by a plate of apples that he
happened to spy on the mantel-piece.
[Illustration]
THE THREE GOLDEN APPLES
[Illustration]
Did you ever hear of the golden apple
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