Bedtime Tale: The Water Babies Ch 6/Part 2

Enjoy this bedtime tale to help you drift off into a peaceful slumber. Tonight we read Chapter 6/Part 2 of the classic, The Water Babies, by Charles Kingsley. This reading describes when Tom decides to leave all the Water Babies and venture off into the world.

This audio is perfect for children or adults who want to relax, discover magic, or find adventure before a great night's sleep.

Transcript

Chapter 6 Part 2 When Ellie came back,

He was shy with her because he fancied she looked down on him and thought him a coward.

And then he grew quite cross with her because she was superior to him and did what he could not do.

And poor Ellie was quite surprised and sad.

And at last Tom burst out crying,

But he would not tell her what was really on his mind.

And all the while he was eaten up with curiosity to know where Ellie went to,

So that he began not to care for his playmates,

Or for the Sea Palace,

Or anything else.

But perhaps that made matters all the easier for him,

For he grew so discontented with everything round him that he did not care to stay.

And he did not care where he went.

Well,

He said at last,

I am so miserable here.

I'll go,

If only you will go with me.

Ah,

Said Ellie,

I wish I might,

But the worst of it is that the fairy says that you must go alone,

If you go at all.

Now don't poke that poor crab about,

Tom,

For he was feeling very naughty and mischievous,

Or the fairy will have to punish you.

Tom was very nearly saying,

I don't care if she does,

But he stopped himself in time.

I know what she wants me to do,

He said,

Whining most dolefully.

She wants me to go after that horrid old Grimes.

I don't like him,

That's certain.

And if I find him,

He will turn me into a chimney sweep again,

I know.

That's what I've been afraid of all along.

No he won't.

I know as much as that.

Nobody can turn water babies into sweeps,

Or hurt them at all,

As long as they are good.

Ah,

Said naughty Tom,

I see what you want.

You are persuading me all along to go,

Because you're tired of me and want to get rid of me.

Little Ellie opened her eyes very wide at that,

And they were all brimming over with tears.

Oh Tom,

Tom,

She said very mournfully,

And then she cried,

Oh Tom,

Where are you?

And Tom cried,

Oh Ellie,

Where are you?

For neither of them could see each other,

Not the least.

Little Ellie vanished quite away,

And Tom heard her voice calling him,

And growing smaller and smaller,

And fainter and fainter,

Till all was silent.

Who was frightened then but Tom?

He swam up and down among the rocks,

Into all the halls and chambers,

Faster than ever he swam before,

But he could not find her.

He shouted after her,

But she did not answer.

He asked all the other children,

But they had not seen her,

And at last he went up to the top of the water,

And began crying and screaming,

For missus be done by as you did,

Which perhaps was the best thing to do,

For she came in a moment.

Oh said Tom,

Oh dear,

Oh dear,

I have been naughty to Ellie,

And I've killed her,

I know I've killed her.

Not quite that,

Said the fairy,

But I have sent her away home,

And she will not come back again,

For I do not know how long.

And at that Tom cried so bitterly,

That the salt sea was swelled with his tears,

And the tide was a quarter of an inch higher than it had been the day before,

But perhaps that was owing to the waxing of the moon.

It may have been so,

But it is considered right in the new philosophy,

You know,

To give spiritual causes for physical phenomena,

Especially in parlor tables,

And of course,

Physical causes for spiritual ones,

Like thinking,

And praying,

And knowing right from wrong.

And so they odds it till it comes even,

As folks say down in Berkshire.

How cruel of you to send Ellie away,

Sobbed Tom,

However I will find her again,

If I go to the world's end to look for her.

The fairy did not slap Tom,

And tell him to hold his tongue,

But she took him in on her lap very kindly,

Just as her sister would have done,

And put him in mind how it was not her fault,

Because she was wound up inside,

Like watches,

And could not help doing things whether she liked it or not.

And then she told him how he had been in a nursery long ago,

And must go out now and see the world,

If he intended ever to be a man,

And how he must go all alone by himself,

As everyone else that ever was born has to go,

And see with his own eyes,

And smell with his own nose,

And make his own bed,

And lie on it,

And burn his own fingers if he put them into the fire.

And then she told him how many fine things there were to be seen in the world,

And what an odd,

Curious,

Pleasant,

Orderly,

Respectable,

Well-managed,

And on the whole,

Successful,

As indeed might have been expected,

Sort of place it was,

If people would only be tolerably brave,

And honest,

And good in it.

And then she told him not to be afraid of anything he met,

For nothing would harm him if he remembered all his lessons,

And did what he knew was right.

And at last she comforted poor little Tom so much that he was quite eager to go,

And wanted to set out that minute,

Only,

He said,

If I might see Ellie once before I went.

Why do you want that?

Because,

Because I should be much happier if I thought she had forgiven me.

And in the twinkling of an eye there stood Ellie,

Smiling,

And looking so happy that Tom longed to kiss her,

But was still afraid it would not be respectful,

Because she was a lady-born.

I am going,

Ellie,

Said Tom.

I am going,

If it is to the world's end.

But I don't like going at all,

And that's the truth.

Pooh,

Pooh,

Pooh,

Said the fairy.

You will like it very well indeed,

You little rogue,

And you know that at the bottom of your heart.

But if you don't,

I will make you like it.

Come here and see what happens to people who do only what is pleasant.

And she took out one of her cupboards.

She had all sorts of mysterious cupboards in the cracks of the rocks.

The most wonderful waterproof book,

Full of such photographs as never were seen.

For she had found out photography,

And this is a fact,

More than 13,

598,

000 years before anybody was born.

And what is more,

Her photographs did not merely represent light and shade,

As ours do,

But color also.

And all colors,

As you may see if you look at a black cock's tail,

Or a butterfly's wing,

Or indeed most things that are or can be,

So to speak.

And therefore her photographs were very curious and famous,

And the children looked with great delight for the opening of the book.

And on the title page was written,

The history of the great and famous nation of the do-as-you-likes,

Who came away from the country of hard work,

Because they wanted to play on harps all day long.

In the first picture,

They saw these do-as-you-likes living in the land of ready-made,

At the foot of the happy-go-lucky mountains,

Where Flapdoodle grows wild.

And if you want to know what that is,

You must read Peter Simple.

They lived very much such a life as those jolly old Greeks in Sicily,

Whom you may see painted on the ancient faces.

And really there seemed to be great excuses for them,

For they had no need to work.

Instead of homes,

They lived in beautiful caves of tufa,

And bathed in the warm springs three times a day.

And as for clothes,

It was so warm there that the gentlemen walked about in little,

Beside a cocked hat and a pair of straps,

Or some light summer tackle of that kind.

And the ladies all gathered gossamer in autumn,

When they were not too lazy,

To make their winter dresses.

They were very fond of music,

But it was too much trouble to learn the piano or the violin.

And as for dancing,

That would have been too great an exertion,

So they sat on anthills all day long,

And played on the harp.

And if the ants bit them,

Why,

They just got up and went to the next anthill,

Till they were bitten there likewise.

And they sat under the flappedoodle trees,

And let the flappedoodle drop from their mouths,

And under the vines,

And squeezed the grape juice down their throats.

If any little pigs ran about ready roasted,

Crying,

Come and eat me,

As was their fashion in that country,

They waited till the pigs ran against their mouths,

And then took a bite,

And were content,

Just as so many oysters would have been.

They needed no weapons,

For no enemies ever came near the land,

And no tools,

For everything was ready made to their hand.

And the stern old fairy Necessity never came near them to hunt them up,

And make them use their wits or die.

And so on,

And so on,

And so on,

Till there were never such comfortable,

Easy-going,

Happy-go-lucky people in the world.

Well,

That is a jolly life,

Said Tom.

You think so?

Said the fairy.

Do you see that great peaked mountain there behind,

Said the fairy,

With smoke coming out of its top?

Yes.

And do you see all those ashes,

And slag,

And cinders lying about?

Yes.

Then turn over the next five hundred years,

And you will see what happens next.

And behold,

The mountain had blown up like a barrel of gunpowder,

And then boiled over like a kettle,

Whereby one-third of the do-as-you-likes were blown into the air,

And the other third were smothered in ashes,

So that there was only one-third left.

You see,

Said the fairy,

What comes of living on a burning mountain.

Oh,

Why did you not warn them,

Said little Ellie?

I did warn them all I could.

I let the smoke come out of the mountain,

And wherever there is smoke,

There is fire.

And I laid the ashes and cinders all about,

And wherever there are cinders,

Cinders maybe again.

But they did not like to face the facts,

My dears,

As very few people do.

And so they invented a cock and bull story,

Which I'm sure I never told them,

That the smoke was the breath of a giant,

Whom some gods or other had buried under the mountain,

And that the cinders were what the dwarfs roasted the little pigs with,

And other nonsense of that kind.

And when folks are in that humor,

I cannot teach them,

Save by the good old birch rod.

And then she turned over the next five hundred years,

And there was the remnants of the do-as-you-likes,

Doing as they liked,

As before.

They were too lazy to move away from the mountain.

So they said,

If it has blown up once,

That is all the more reason that it should not blow up again.

And there were few in number,

And they only said,

The more the merrier,

But the fewer the better fare.

However,

That was not quite true,

For all the flap-doodle trees were killed by the volcano,

And they had eaten all the roast pigs,

Who,

Of course,

Could not be expected to have little ones.

So they had to live very hard,

On nuts and roots,

Which they scratched out of the ground with sticks.

Some of them talked of sowing corn,

As their ancestors used to do,

Before they came to the land of ready-made.

But they had forgotten how to make plows.

They had forgotten even how to make harps by this time,

And had eaten all the seed corn,

Which had brought out the land of hard work years since.

And of course it was too much trouble to go away and find more.

So they lived miserably on roots and nuts,

And all the weakly little children had great stomachs,

And then died.

Why,

Said Tom,

They are growing no better than savages.

And look how ugly they're all getting,

Said Ellie.

Yes,

When people live on poor vegetables instead of roast beef and plum pudding,

Their jaws grow large,

And their lips grow coarse.

And she turned over the next five hundred years,

And they were all living up in the trees and making nests to keep out of the rain.

And underneath the trees lions were prowling about.

Why,

Said Ellie,

The lions seem to have eaten a good many of them,

For there are very few left now.

Yes,

Said the fairy,

You can see it was only the strongest and most active ones who could climb the trees and so escape.

But what great hulking,

Broad-shouldered chaps they are,

Said Tom,

They are a rough lot as I ever saw.

Yes,

They are getting very strong now,

For the ladies will not marry any but the strongest and fiercest gentlemen who can help them up the trees out of the lion's way.

And she turned over the next five hundred years,

And in that there were fewer still,

And stronger and fiercer,

But their feet had changed shape very oddly,

For they laid hold of the branches with their great toes,

As if they had had thumbs,

Just as a Hindu tailor used his toes to thread his needle.

The children were very much surprised,

And asked the fairy whether that was her doing.

Yes and no,

She said smiling,

It was only those who could use their feet as well as their hands who could get a good living,

Or indeed get married,

So that they got the best of everything,

And starved out all the rest.

And those who are left keep up a regular breed of toe-thumb men,

As a breed of short-horns,

Or sky-terriers,

Or fancy pigeons is kept up.

But there is a hairy one among them,

Said Ellie.

Ah,

Said the fairy,

That will be a great man in his time,

The chief of all the tribe.

And when she turned over the next five hundred years,

It was true,

For this hairy chief had had hairy children,

And they had hairier children still,

And everyone wished to marry hairy husbands and have hairy children too,

For the climate was growing so damp that none but the hairy ones could live.

All the rest coughed and sneezed,

And had sore throats,

And went into consumptions before they could grow up to be men and women.

Then the fairy turned over the next five hundred years,

And they were fewer still.

Why,

There was one on the ground picking up roots,

Said Ellie,

And he cannot walk upright.

No more he could,

For in that same way that the shape of their feet had altered,

The shape of their backs had altered also.

Why,

Cried Tom,

I declare they are all apes.

Something fearfully like it,

Poor foolish creatures,

Said the fairy.

They are grown so stupid now that they can hardly think,

For none of them have used their wits for many hundred years.

They have almost forgotten too how to talk,

For each stupid child forgot some of the words it heard from its stupid parents,

And had not wits enough to make fresh words for itself.

Beside,

They are grown so fierce and suspicious and brutal that they keep out of each other's way,

And mope and sulk in the dark forest,

Never hearing each other's voice,

Till they have forgotten almost what speech is like.

I am afraid they will all be apes very soon,

And all by doing only what they like.

And in the next five hundred years,

They were all dead and gone,

By bad food and wild beasts and hunters,

All except one tremendous old fellow with jaws like a jack,

Who stood full seven feet high.

An Emdu Chailu came up to him,

And shot him,

As he stood roaring and thumping his breast,

And he remembered that his ancestors had once been men,

And tried to say,

Am I not a man and a brother,

But had forgotten how to use his tongue,

And then he had tried to call for a doctor,

But he had forgotten the word for one,

So all he said was,

Oobaboo,

And died.

And that was the end of the great and jolly nation of the do-as-you-likes,

And when Tom and Ellie came to the end of the book,

They looked very sad and solemn,

And they had good reason so to do,

For they really fancied that the men were apes,

And never thought in their simplicity of asking whether the creatures had hippopotamus majors in their brains or not,

In which case,

As you have been told already,

They could not possibly have been apes,

Though they were more apish than the apes of all laparies.

But could you not have saved them from becoming apes?

Said little Ellie at last.

At first,

My dear,

If only they would have behaved like men,

And set to work to do what they did not like,

But the longer they waited,

And behaved like dumb beasts,

Who only would do what they like,

The stupider and clumsier they grew,

Till at last they were past all cure,

For they had thrown their own wits away.

It is such things as this that help to make me so ugly,

That I know not when I shall grow fair.

And where are they all now?

Asked Ellie.

Exactly where they ought to be,

My dear.

Yes,

Said the fairy solemnly,

Half to herself,

As she closed the wonderful book,

Folks now say that I can make beasts into men,

By circumstance,

And selection,

And competition,

And so forth.

Well,

Perhaps they are right,

And perhaps again they are wrong.

That is one of the seven things which I am forbidden to tell,

At all events,

It is no concern of theirs.

Whatever their ancestors were,

Men they are,

And I advise them to behave as such,

And act accordingly,

But let them recollect this,

That there are two sides to every question,

And a downhill,

As well as an uphill road,

And if I can turn beasts into men,

I can by the same laws of circumstance,

And selection,

And competition,

Turn men into beasts.

You are very near being turned into a beast once or twice,

Little Tom.

Indeed,

If you had not made up your mind to go on this journey,

And see the world like an Englishman,

I am not sure,

But that you would have ended up,

As an F,

In a pond.

Oh dear me,

Said Tom,

Sooner than that,

And be all over slime.

I'll go this very minute,

If it is to the world's end.

And that is the end of our story this evening.

Until next time,

Sweet dreams.

Reviews

Going to listen again because I fell asleep before the end 😊

Thank you! I’m enjoying this story and I don’t think I made it to the end! 😻😻