The wishing of Biddy Malone ( = ) @ balletvickie的部落格

The wishing of Biddy Malone (=)

Biddy knew that was the way of the little people, here one moment, gone the next. She walked back to her house, and there, in the light of the porch, she saw a strange thing. A large black ribbon hung on the door, the kind that folk hung out when they were in mourning.
All of her family was at the table. When they saw her, her brothers stared with great round eyes and her mother screamed and fell back in her chair. Her father, his face as white as bread dough, leaned across the table. "We thought you were dead !"
"Dead ? Dadda, I've only been away half an hour !"
"Two months !" cried her eldest brother. "You walked out of here two whole months ago. We had your wake and all."
"Where did you disappear to, girl?"shouted her father. "Half an hour !" insisted Biddy. But already she was noticing changes in the room, a new pot on the stove, her brothers and father in  different shirts.
"Two months !" bellowed her father, thumping the table. Her mother grabbed her father's arm. "She's been with the little people, "she said in a voice full of fear.

A few days later, Biddy Malone told her mother about the faerie village by the river. But she was not doing any talking about the beautiful boy and the three wishes.
To tell the truth, they were not working, those wishes. She still sang like a squeaking gate and danced with feet like bricks. The Little by little, her singing got better, her feet lighter.
As for her temper, it improved as well. Her mouth could still get terrible fierce at times, but she would whisper to herself, "Loving heart, loving heart, " and then, surprisingly, she would go all adreaming of the beautiful loveling of the little people.
For weeks her mother worried about her. "Biddy, little folk are full of trickery. Once they get a hold of you, you know, they don't let you go."
But after a time of seeing that her daughter was happiner and kinder than ever before, she hushed her fretting.

With no help at all from the wishes, Biddy went on singing and dancing. She made her own magic from the faerie music within her,
until her voice was oh so pure and her feet oh so nimble that her performance was something to behold. Before long, the people in the village were asking her to sing and dance for them.
"Our Biddy was late in flowering," said heer father. "But now she's got a voice like a songbird and she's as light on her feet as a deer."
The truth it was. But Biddy was still not satisfied. She continued to   work hard at her wishes and it so happened that by the time she was a full-grown woman, she was the best singer and dancer in the country.

Sure, and a big loving heart had grown in her. But there was a problem about that. Although she was fond of people, Biddy Malone could not fall in love. Her singing and dancing brought young men from near and far. With shining eyes and gifts in their hands, they came seeking her  favor.
"Will you  come acourting, acourting, acourting ? Will you come acourting, sweet Biddy Malone?" they sang.
Biddy was kind to all of them,  but she would not choose any for a husband,  for that space in her heart was still filled with the loveling.
How she longed for him !  Many a time she went down to the river, hoping to find the faerie village. It was never there. So, beneath all that success, she had a sadness as deep as a well.
When she walked in the garden, the thrushes on the bean   fence sang, "Biddy Malone, all alone, "and when she was in the forest, picking berries, the deer would toss their heads and heels. Biddy Malone, all alone.  Biddy Malone, all alone.

Biddy was tired of the longing and loneliness. What was the use of moping like a sick hen for something she couldn't have ? One evening, she said to her family, "The next time a good man asks me to marry him, I  will most definitely say yes."
Well, you know, late the following day, there came a knocking at the door. It was the young schoolteacher from the village. He had a bunch of flowers  in one hand   a speckled trout wrapped in paper in the  other. "Will you marry me, Biddy Malone ?"he asked.
"Say yes," whispered her mother. "Say yes," said her father.
Her brothers stood behind her and nudged her back. "Say yes ! Say yes ! Say yes !"
Biddy tried, but for the life of her, the yes would not come out.
All she could see in her heart was a beautiful boy with hair as soft as midnight and eyes that went on forever.
Will you marry me? "the schoolteacher asked again. Biddy's lips were locked tight. But as she stood there, she heard a sound coming up  from the river, faerie music made thin  by distance.

Without a word, she pushed past the reacher and slammed the gate. It was not  pleasure she was feeling. Indeed,  no. As she walked through the village, the last bit of temper in her flared and cracked like a brush fire.
She swung her arms. She tossed her head.  Oh, but she was fine and fierce by the time she got to the river.
She knew it would be there,  the little  village amongst the willows. To be sure, it was, and looking the same with house of twisted tree roots, roofs of dried grass. There were lights in the windows and the music she knew as well as she knew herself. Ignoring of the sound, she marched so fast to the open door that the rush of her shook the reeds along the riverbank.