Plumkin
Tobias
Mottlegill
Strawbs
Snubby
Faybellina
Mickey the clown
Captain Crook
the Tooth Fairy
the Spring Fairy
Meet the Residents of Fairyland
the Waterdrop Fairy
the Clock Fairy
the Dream Fairy
Professor Ferry Brite
Muddle the wizard
L
ong, long ago, there was a cottage. And where was this cottage? It was on the edge of a village in the rolling hills of Fairyland, not far from the toadstool shop next to the crystal spring, where the elfin folk made fairy carriages. It was a neat little cottage with a room, a kitchen and a gorgeous view. But there was something else which made it extremely interesting. At the bottom of the garden full of flowers, herbs and medicinal plants there stood a rickety old shed made of planks. It was covered in ivy and the sun shone through the cracks between the planks. Little birds and fairies who flew that way often peeped in to see what was going on inside. And who did they see in the shed? Well, not just anyone! It was Faybellina the wordweaving fairy.
Wordweaving fairies had a special gift. Even as little fairy children they understood how to work the word-loom and turn yarn into tales, weaving the most beautiful stories and embroidering them with colourful detail. Faybellina, the hardest-working wordweaving fairy, was always up with the lark and by the time the clock struck twelve noon, she had finished a story. She didn’t like weaving after that because the tales became too entangled. Sometimes her thoughts wandered and she got the threads in a twist and then she would have to start all over again. When her fairy tale was ready, Faybellina flew to the world of people. She found an old, deserted house, went up to the attic and slipped her homespun fable into one of the drain pipes. “Here it is! Come and get it!” she cried. She took her magic bell out of her apron pocket and gave it a good shake. Story writers know that ding-a-ling well. When they hear this ringing, they try to get to where Faybellina has been as soon as they can. They pick up the story that has been left and write down the fairy’s latest tale. If you keep your eyes open, perhaps you will find one too. If not, someone else has taken it… Maybe that story is being written at this moment and soon the world will be one tale richer. Everyone knew that Faybellina was a peaceful, gentle soul. Only one thing could upset her – if her word-loom got blocked. How it got stuck from time to time no one ever knew. “Perhaps you’re worn out? Had enough of exclamation and question marks? Are you cold? Do you want some socks on your tootsies?” Faybellina asked. But the loom bottled its trouble up and remained stubbornly silent.
• 10 •
When this happened, there was nothing that could be done. Faybellina simply took umbrage, packed her bags and flitted away for a few days. She went to visit old fairy friends she had not seen for a while. She collected some recipes to make herb tea and enchanting cakes, found rare bird feathers for her collection and returned home as good as new. “So, what’s up? I hope you’ve had sweet dreams while I’ve been away. I’ve missed you a little,” she said as she oiled the loom. To her greatest joy the loom finally coughed and spluttered, and began to work again. “All’s well that ends well, but not every farewell fares well,” she joked, as she made it up with the loom and took things off the shelf to get straight down to work on the next tale. She filled the funnels from her jealously guarded jars. “Now let me see,” she mumbled. “Characters, must have some of them! Then there should be heaps of excitement interwoven with lots of adventure. Every tale needs beauty. And just a touch of evil, but not enough to give the children bad dreams. As well as lots of happiness – that never does anyone any harm.” She could hardly wait to begin weaving the next tale! She was just about to let the shuttle fly when something happened that had never happened before. Perhaps there was a knot in the thread of the tale? Or maybe she couldn’t string her thoughts together? Or a hole in the roof? It was none of these. The trouble was that there was no happiness left in the jar. Faybellina always knew that even a little would do, but she couldn’t resist pouring lots into her tales. Now she had got her comeuppance! Whatever would she do? Without happiness a story is like a cake without icing. She had to do something – and fast! First she rushed up the spiral staircase to the attic, and tidied up all the odds and ends, hoping to find a little good cheer tucked away somewhere. But she had no luck. She did come across her old butterfly net and a few old boxes of magic powder. She also noticed a mouse hole in just the wrong place. “Oh, Mr Mouse, that is a silly place for a hole. Far too dangerous! I’ll see what I can arrange,” she resolved. But that was the only good thing about the afternoon she spent in the attic. Soon it grew dark. Faybellina was thoroughly worn out and only nibbled at her supper of raspberry crisps with cream. She adjusted her bun and went to bed without having woven a single word that day or having thought of even the tiniest tale. She slipped under her duvet filled with fragrant petals sadly and whispered for help. Then she drifted into a deep sleep. By the next morning she knew exactly what to do. While she slept, she had met the Queen of Dreams. They used to be in the same class at school, and gladly helped each other from time to time.
• 11 •
The next morning Faybellina sprang out of bed, drank a cup of frothy cocoa, and got straight down to work. She climbed the ladder and rummaged through the jars. “Courage, there’s some of that left. And cunning, too. And there’s helpfulness, and speed, quick wits and adventure as well,” she muttered, scooping the jars, almost too many to carry, into her arms. She tipped the ingredients for the tale into the word-loom, which set to work like the wind even though it never liked to be hurried. And they did it! At the very moment the clock struck twelve Faybellina leant back contentedly. “Here they are! They’re mine and I won’t give them to anybody!” she smiled at the little elves who she created. Then she went closer to the window. She wanted to show her latest story heroes all the world. “Look!” she called to some little birds that were flying by. “This is Snubby! And here are the others. He’s called Tobias – I’ve made him a bit too tall. This is Strawbs and I’ll call this one Plumkin. The one in the brown cap I named Mottlegill. He’s a bit grouchy, because there is no happiness in him… That’s because I’ve run out of it!” She took such delight in them that the elves sprang to life, leaping out of the woven fabric and into the world. Faybellina could hardly wait for night to fall so she could tell the Queen of Dreams that their plan was working out well. Next day the little elves looked around their new home inquisitively. “This is my library, where I collect the books the storytellers send me.” The elves could not see to the top of the walnut shelves that reached right to the ceiling but they could read the little copper plates on the shelves.
• 14 •
“Invisible Writing, Nest Architecture, The History of Fairy Fashion, Sheet Music for Songbirds,” they read one after the other. But before long Faybellina called to them from the other end of the corridor. “Come! I’ll show you the room where you will sleep.” Mottlegill, Tobias, Snubby, Strawbs and Plumkin hurried after the fairy in great excitement. In the room there were five little hammocks hanging up high. Next to each one was a rope for the tiny elves to climb up to and down from the place they would sleep. “And who lives here?” asked Plumkin, looking behind the wardrobe where cheeky chuckles were coming from. “No one. That’s only the Teeny-Weenies. Always giggling and chortling. There are lots of them. They come every morning to gather the dust balls from every nook and cranny in Fairyland to make sure it doesn’t get into the magic powder,” explained Faybellina. “Right, let’s go on. You haven’t seen the kitchen yet. There are scrumptious fairyflakes for breakfast.” Tobias went first and the others followed. The delicious scent of sweet cinnamon led them straight to Faybellina’s kitchen. As they entered the room, four busy butterflies were spreading a tablecloth. Small birds cheeped on the windowsill holding baskets full of ripe strawberries in their wings. Faybellina took these from the birds and offered them some millet. Then she mixed the fruit with the fairyflakes and placed treats made of fresh fruit, home-grown vegetables and nuts on the table and poured watermelon juice into the mugs. When everyone was full, Faybellina spoke to them. “My friends, you know that ever since the world began, elves have never grown taller than a gladiolus. For this reason I’m going to share a few fairy secrets with you. First, if you can’t reach the door handle, just blow three times and it will open. Next, when it gets dark, rub the tussle of your hat and it will light up. If you want to pick fruit from the trees, use the fairy trampoline in the garden.” “Fairy trampoline?!” exclaimed the elves joyfully and ran outside. Snubby bounced first, then Mottlegill had a go, followed by the others. After every jump, the elves went higher, and stardust flew up into the sky around them. “Faybellina! Look what a lovely cloud there is above your garden,” the bouncing elves cried. “That isn’t a cloud but stardust. Stardust is Fairyland’s national treasure. You find it everywhere where fairies and elves are. When too much gathers in the sky, there’s a stardust warning. The stardusters come out and clean the realm for a few days. They turn all the stardust into FayDoh.” By the time the elves had finished trampolining, the crickets were tuning up their violins for their evening concert. Thousands of fairies were flying heavenward to polish the stars. Faybellina and the elves glanced up at them in wonder and then went inside to lay down their heads in their fairy home.
• 15 •
The days turned into months. The elves felt more and more at home in the garden, the kitchen and the library – in this magical world of wonders. Faybellina enjoyed being with them and joined them on their outings unless she was working on a secret plan when she would sit on the steps up to the attic that were overgrown with moss. But she didn’t talk about her plan to anyone. When she was busy, making a marzipan cake or organising a balloon blowing contest for the neighbouring squirrel children for instance, she did not go out with her friends. One afternoon, however, when she had absolutely nothing to do, they were wandering among the chestnut trees together. Faybellina kept stopping suddenly as she was strolling next to the elves, then set off again and finally sighed deeply. She plucked up her courage and spoke. “You know, don’t you, that I used to weave tales all day long before you came to stay with me?” “Faybellina! You know how tales are made?” exclaimed Snubby. “Yes, I do, and I’m going to tell you, too. I have an old word-loom and I use it to turn yarn into tales. I fill it with ingredients and then weave and weave stories long and short.” “Will you show us how it works?” asked Plumkin. “And can we weave tales on it tomorrow?” “If only I could start again, but I haven’t been able to weave a single word since an important ingredient ran out. I’ve no happiness left and I can’t make tales without that. The story writers keep waiting for something to come but I’ve nothing to send to them. But there’s no point talking about it. Come! I’ll show you something instead.” Faybellina strode away and the elves scurried excitedly after her. They didn’t stop until they reached a meadow covered in never-withering flowers. An oak tree stood in the middle of the meadow and its branches were laden with different kinds of fruit: apples, plums, mangoes, avocados, etc. Its trunk had many mysterious, locked drawers. Faybellina went over to it and took a key from her apron pocket. She unlocked and pulled out the largest drawer, and took an unusual umbrella out of it. She opened it and held the umbrella above her head. It looked like a large domed velvet hat. Silk tassels and golden bells around its edge danced in the wind. The elves stared in amazement as the fairy gracefully spun round holding the umbrella. “The magic umbrella is ready to go!” she finally announced, casting a friendly smile at the elves. “I hope you will help to collect enough happiness for many, many stories in it!”
• 18 •
She only shared the details of the special mission later at home over a mug of hot cocoa. Faybellina sat in her favourite armchair holding an old book in her hands. Its pages were illustrated with fascinating pictures and curious maps. “Listen here, my little friends,” she began to explain with a serious expression on her face. “Where Fairyland comes to an end another world begins. That’s where people live. This is where you must gather real happiness and bring it to me to my wordweaving room.” “How can we bring you happiness? Put it in a bag?” asked Strawbs. “Or roll it here like a glass marble?” puzzled Tobias. “Perhaps we could send it in a parcel?” pondered Plumkin. “What colour is happiness anyway?” speculated Mottlegill. “Stop now, stop!” the fairy chuckled at the elves’ funny ideas. “What do you think the magic umbrella is for? All you need to do is open it at the right moment and in that instant it will fill with happiness. That’s why you’re taking it – to collect happiness with it,” she told them, and began turning the pages of her old book. “Look! Here’s a circus – full of fun and laughter, but that’s not enough by itself. From there you must go to the amusement park. But be careful not to fill the umbrella too full. Lastly, a trip to the playground is a must because good cheer falls there like a summer shower.” Plumkin listened attentively to the wordweaving fairy, trying to remember everything that she saw in the pictures precisely. After such excitement, who could go to sleep quickly? Not Plumkin nor the other elves, who tossed and turned beneath their duvets. Before getting into bed, Faybellina arranged her bun as she always did and then slept soundly until the morning. The birds sang, the train whistled and the kettle piped to get the next day off to a good start. The elves were up early because there was plenty to do before they could leave. First they had to pack the most important things. They had a map, Strawbs had a telescope, Snubby had a compass and some sticking plasters, and Tobias had three marzipan cakes in case they were hungry on the long journey. Faybellina thought of everything before she let them set off. Oh! And the umbrella! That mustn’t be left behind. She gave it to Plumkin as like this it was in the best hands. “Goodbye, Faybellina. See you soon!” the elves called to the wordweaving fairy. “Goodbye, my friends,” Faybellina waved from her garden gate as the five elves at last departed.
• 19 •
• Fairyland • 1
2 3 14
19 5 8
6 18
9
7
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1. Spring of Scents 2. The toadstool shop, where elfin folk make fairy carriages 3. Secret passage to the world of people 4. Notion Potion magazine publisher 5. Clover Grove 6. Crystal Meadow 7. Petal Ocean 8. The star-screw factory in the Eider Downs 9. Star Valley
4
10. Valley of Waterfalls 11. Blowyoudown Island 12. Berthold’s mill 13. Strawberry field 14. School for Elves 15. Enchanted bell-growing tree 16. The Tower of Clocks 17. Maze 18. Doll’s clothes sewing shop 19. The fairy powder well 20. The up and down railway
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13 11 12 20 15 16