PUCK OF POOK'S HILL (With Original Illustrations). Rudyard 1865-1936 Kipling

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       Rudyard Kipling

      PUCK OF POOK'S HILL

      (With Original Illustrations)

      A Fantasy Classic From the Author of The Jungle Book, Just So Stories, Kim & Captain Courageous

      Published by

      Books

      - Advanced Digital Solutions & High-Quality eBook Formatting -

       [email protected]

      2017 OK Publishing

      ISBN 978-80-272-0171-6

      Table of Contents

       Weland's Sword

       Young Men at the Manor

       The Knights of the Joyous Venture

       Old Men at Pevensey

       A Centurion of the Thirtieth

       On the Great Wall

       The Winged Hats

       Hal O' the Draft

       'Dymchurch Flit'

       The Treasure and the Law

      They saw a small brown ... pointy-eared person ... step quietly into the Ring

      Weland's Sword

       Table of Contents

       Puck's Song

      See you the dimpled track that runs,

       All hollow through the wheat?

       O that was where they hauled the guns

       That smote King Philip's fleet!

       See you our little mill that clacks,

       So busy by the brook?

       She has ground her corn and paid her tax

       Ever since Domesday Book.

       See you our stilly woods of oak,

       And the dread ditch beside?

       O that was where the Saxons broke,

       On the day that Harold died!

       See you the windy levels spread

       About the gates of Rye?

       O that was where the Northmen fled,

       When Alfred's ships came by!

       See you our pastures wide and lone,

       Where the red oxen browse?

       O there was a City thronged and known,

       Ere London boasted a house!

       And see you, after rain, the trace

       Of mound and ditch and wall?

       O that was a Legion's camping-place,

       When Cæsar sailed from Gaul!

       And see you marks that show and fade,

       Like shadows on the Downs?

       O they are the lines the Flint Men made,

       To guard their wondrous towns!

       Trackway and Camp and City lost,

       Salt Marsh where now is corn;

       Old Wars, old Peace, old Arts that cease,

       And so was England born!

       She is not any common Earth,

       Water or Wood or Air,

       But Merlin's Isle of Gramarye,

       Where you and I will fare.

       Weland's Sword

      The children were at the Theatre, acting to Three Cows as much as they could remember of Midsummer Night's Dream. Their father had made them a small play out of the big Shakespeare one, and they had rehearsed it with him and with their mother till they could say it by heart. They began when Nick Bottom the weaver comes out of the bushes with a donkey's head on his shoulders, and finds Titania, Queen of the Fairies, asleep. Then they skipped to the part where Bottom asks three little fairies to scratch his head and bring him honey, and they ended where he falls asleep in Titania's arms. Dan was Puck and Nick Bottom, as well as all three Fairies. He wore a pointy-eared cloth cap for Puck, and a paper donkey's head out of a Christmas cracker—but it tore if you were not careful—for Bottom. Una was Titania, with a wreath of columbines and a foxglove wand.

      The Theatre lay in a meadow called the Long Slip. A little mill-stream, carrying water to a mill two or three fields away, bent round one corner of it, and in the middle of the bend lay a large old Fairy Ring of darkened grass, which was the stage. The millstream banks, overgrown with willow, hazel, and guelder-rose, made convenient places to wait in till your turn came; and a grown-up who had seen it said that Shakespeare himself could not have imagined a more suitable setting for his play. They were not, of course, allowed to act on Midsummer Night itself, but they went down after tea on Midsummer Eve, when the shadows were growing, and they took their supper—hard-boiled eggs, Bath Oliver biscuits, and salt in an envelope—with them. Three Cows had been milked and were grazing steadily with a tearing noise that one could hear all down the meadow; and the noise of the Mill at work sounded like bare feet running on hard ground. A cuckoo sat on a gate-post singing his broken June tune, 'cuckoo-cuk', while a busy kingfisher crossed from the mill-stream, to the brook which ran on the other side of the meadow. Everything else was a sort of thick, sleepy stillness smelling of meadow-sweet and dry grass.

      Their play went beautifully. Dan remembered all his parts—Puck, Bottom, and the three Fairies—and Una never forgot a word of Titania—not even the difficult piece where she tells the Fairies how to feed Bottom with 'apricocks, green figs, and dewberries', and all the lines end in 'ies'. They were both so pleased that they acted it three times over from beginning to end before they sat down in the unthistly centre of the Ring to eat eggs and Bath Olivers. This was when they heard a whistle among the alders on the bank, and they jumped.

      In the very spot where Dan had stood as Puck

       they now saw a small, brown, broad-shouldered, pointy-eared person

       with a snub nose, slanting blue eyes,

       and a grin that ran right across his freckled face.

      The bushes parted. In the very spot where Dan had stood as Puck they saw a small, brown, broad-shouldered,