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chapter I.

Take your places. Turn down the lights. We are going to open our magic
lantern once more. Ho Presto! Here we are in Victoria.

Picture to yourself a plainly furnished room in a farmhouse on the
banks of the Murray River. Besides the ordinary tables, chairs,
pictures, and other things you will observe a clock on the mantel-shelf
over the fireplace. Now this clock is going to form the pivot upon
which our story turns.

The door of this apartment was gently opened, and two children—a boy
and a girl—entered. They had just stolen away unknown to the nurse, and
had come here to amuse themselves. There was, however, very little in
that room to amuse them. Neither hoop nor ball nor doll was here; but
there was the clock ticking away like a cricket who had lost its
mother. They say that curiosity is much stronger in the female, be it
child or adult, than in the male portion of humanity, so the little
girl drew a chair to the fireplace, and on the top of it she placed a
stool, and then both the children mounted and stood face to face with
the clock.

They examined the polished wooden case, and the marble base, the
figures and the painted scroll work which adorned its face, then the
minute-hand which they could see moving, and listened to the “Tick,
tick, tick,” which seemed to come from some voice within it.
“Tick-tick,” cried the clock, and still as the little boy looked and
listened it went on without stopping, “Tick, tick, tick.”

“What can it be?” said the little girl. “Where can the noise come from,
Teddy?”

“Oh!” answered Teddy, “it comes from the wee fellow inside there; can’t
you see him moving his arm about, eh, Lily?”

Lily looked and discovered a door. “It comes from here,” she said. “I
should like to open it and let the old man out.”

“No, no,” cried Teddy, “we must not. Papa would be angry. Come away
back again to nurse.” But Lily poked about with her fingers,
unknowingly touched a spring, and the door flew open.

There they saw a wonderful sight. There were wheels moving round and
round, and the inside shone like gold, and there was a long piece of
steel hanging down like a tail, which moved from side to side, and the
timepiece said louder than ever, “Tick, tick, tick.”

Lily put in her finger and touched the golden inside, and still the
clock ticked on. Then she touched the pendulum, and though the clock
paused for a moment as if to take breath, it went on again fresher than
ever, “Tick, tick, tick.”

But at last she happened to poke her finger between the spokes of the
little wheel, and the timepiece stopped. Lily thought it would tick
again in a minute, but she was disappointed. She touched the pendulum,
she touched the wheel, she touched every part; yet all to no purpose.
And then the boy, Teddy, tried his hand in vain. The clock wouldn’t say
“Tick, tick” any more.

What was to be done?

They were very much frightened. They closed the clock door as quickly
as possible, got down from the chair, put the things all tidy, and left
the room.

Nothing more occurred till breakfast-time next morning, when the father
called out suddenly, “Why, the clock has stopped!” and when he examined
it he found the mainspring was broken.

“Somebody has been playing with the clock. Did you touch it, Teddy?”

“No, I never,” answered the boy.

“Was it you, Lily?”

Now, Lily was not in the habit of being untruthful; but she was
frightened and replied, “No.”

“One of you must have done it yesterday. Jane saw you coming out of the
room,” continued the father.

By dint of questioning, Lily and Teddy at length acknowledged they had
been in the room, and then the boy said Lily had touched the timepiece,
and then the girl said so had Teddy; but which of them it was that had
really broken the spring their father could not discover.

“Very well, my children,” he said. “If you will not tell me who broke
the clock, you will be punished some day.” And the father spoke truly.

In that part of the Murray district where Lily and Teddy lived there
dwelt a small native race of people called “Moths.” This diminutive
tribe lived alone by themselves in a grand shaded valley by the
river-bank. They used to be seen very often by the settlers and bushmen
riding home late on moonlight nights. Indeed, many travellers had
stated they had seen them dancing on the green, making merry, courting,
laughing, etc., while others vouched to having spoken to the creatures.
Be that as it may, the Moths were there in the valley by the river, and
had been there long before Teddy and Lily’s grandfather first took up
the splendid selection adjacent.

The wee people had taken an interest in the fortunes of the different
families round about for many years, always patronising and favouring
good boys and girls, and always punishing the bad ones in some form or
other.

Just below the bush paddock where the valley dips down to the water
could be seen a circle of emerald green, on which the Moths assembled
every night when the moon shone. It was not often crossed by the feet
of mortals; but any one passing that way by daylight might observe
small round rings here and there, much greener than the grass around.
These were Moth circles.

Here the Moths sat in little circles on raised benches made of grass
blades, whilst others danced before them in the middle of the ring to
music played on flutes made from the backbones of locusts.

On the night after the clock had been broken the Moths met to hold a
great council. The whole race assembled on this occasion. There was the
King wearing a golden crown of flowers, and the Queen decked with
diamonds of dew, and all the Princes and Princesses in robes of mingled
green and blue. When the council were assembled the monarch spoke thus:

“People of Mothland, you all know what an interest we take in the
family near our valley, and especially in little Lily and Teddy. Now I
grieve to tell you these children have been very naughty. Indeed, one
of them has told a deliberate falsehood, a sin we hate and abhor beyond
all things. The boy is not so guilty as his sister; it was not he,
certainly, who spoilt the clock, but still he went up on the chair and
looked at it; and he ought to have told this like a brave boy, instead
of holding his tongue like a coward. But Lily has told a decided lie,
and she must be punished. What shall we do to her?”

“Carry her away from her home, and put Scarlet Mantle in her place,”
said the Queen of the Moths.

“It shall be done,” replied the King.

That night when Lily was sleeping soundly in her soft, pleasant bed,
the King of the Moths, accompanied by some of the strongest men in his
tribe, carried her away into the valley of Mothland, and they
substituted Scarlet Mantle in her stead.

Jane, the nurse, took her accustomed peep into the child’s bedroom, ere
retiring for the night, and was somewhat astonished to observe that her
charge appeared thinner and smaller and sharper than usual.

“I suppose it’s only my fancy,” cried the girl, so, kissing the
supposed child, she went her way, and left the Moth snugly coiled in
little Lily’s bed.

chapter II.

The morning following the night on which the Moths took Lily away
dawned brightly. The farmer and his wife fancied somehow that their
little girl looked rather pale and thin; the mother thought poor Lily
was ill; the father thought she was sorry for saying she didn’t break
the clock. But the Moths are very clever people, and of course had
contrived to make Scarlet Mantle look as like Lily as possible. So she
took up the child’s place in the house, and ate bread and butter,
pudding, lollies, wore the girl’s new clothes, and was much happier
than she had ever been in Mothland. One or two little things Scarlet
Mantle could not entirely forget; still, on the whole, she managed to
conduct herself as a civilised human child should.

But where was Lily? She was away in the dells with the Moths, and very
unhappy. Firstly, she was very tired; secondly, she was hungry; and
thirdly, she was made ridiculous. These things were most tantalising,
and she was ready to cry her eyes out. No wonder she was tired, because
instead of going to bed at seven o’clock, and sleeping soundly every
night, she had to go out on the circles and dance till the moon set.
She was cold, too, for in place of her warm frocks she had nothing in
the world but Scarlet Mantle’s old clothes, made of rose-leaves and
gossamer. She might well be hungry also, for the Moths gave her nothing
but dew and locusts for food. Still there was one thing more dreadful
than all these put together. For some reason or other Lily’s tongue had
begun to grow very long.

Yes, it was not painful, but exceedingly ugly, as you may imagine.
Little by little it increased and grew longer, until she was obliged to
tie it round her neck to keep it out of her way, and the Moths were
always laughing about it, which made our little girl very melancholy.

The Queen of the Moths was a very motherly person, and Lily soon made
friends with her.

“Your Majesty,” she said one day, “I am very miserable. Indeed, I think
I shall die if I am kept here much longer.”

“What is amiss, my child?” inquired the Queen.

“Why am I detained here?” replied Lily. “And why have I so little to
eat and drink?”

“My dear child, you know the reason,” answered the Queen. “You told a
wicked falsehood, and you are paying the penalty for it now.”

“Ah! your Majesty, it wouldn’t be so bad if I could only get rid of my
long tongue,” pleaded Lily. “Dear Queen, please can’t you rid me of my
ugly tongue?”

“No, child, I cannot, but you can rid yourself of it.”

“How? Oh, please tell me.”

The Queen of the Moths sighed.

“There is only one way,” she answered. “Your tongue is disfigured,
because it hath offended. If you wish to get rid of it, you must
acknowledge your fault and confess the lie you told.”

Poor Lily! Like many other children of a larger growth, she was
stubborn, and did not like this plan of getting rid of her trouble.
Anything rather than saying: “I broke the clock.”

So the child went on among the Moths, suffering cold and hunger,
midnight dancing, and the big tongue.

But little Lily loved her father and mother, and did not like to be
away from them for ever. She began to steal away from the valley, and
go to her own home. Often she stood looking in at the window, and saw
her father and mother and Teddy sitting with Scarlet Mantle; and the
tears would start to her eyes, and run down her cheeks, and she would
cry out in her grief, “Oh! I do so wish I was sitting on my own stool
again.”

One night she was standing by the window particularly unhappy, and in a
very penitent mood. Had she but the opportunity, she determined to
confess her fault. There sat her father in the full flare of the lamp,
thinking he had Lily by his side. There was Teddy with his toys, and
while the little outcast was gazing, Jane, the nurse, entered with the
tea-tray; cups and saucers began to rattle, and her brother and Scarlet
Mantle gathered round the table. Oh, to be shut out from all this
comfort, and the smiles and caresses of her parents! At length,
something led her father to rise from his seat and look out into the
darkness beyond. He opened the window and stepped out upon the
verandah. In a moment a tiny hand was thrust into his own, and a timid,
hesitating voice was heard to say,—

“I—I am—so—sorry. I—broke—the clock.”

“You! Who are you?” cried the father in astonishment.

“I’m Lily, father,” she cried out, with a great sob.

“Lily! Why, Lily is in the dining-room with mamma.”

“No; I am Lily, your own naughty little girl, and—I broke the clock.
There!” she sobbed aloud. “The Moths took me away because I told you a
falsehood, and they only gave me old faded rose-leaves to wear, and the
legs of locusts to eat, and made me drink dew out of the cups of the
flowers; and see what a great, long, ugly tongue they have given me for
telling that story.”

The trilling voice sounded very remorseful, and the little hand clung
nervously to the father, who immediately led the little one into the
dining-room.

The first thing on which the eyes of the man rested was the vacant seat
of Scarlet Mantle.

“Hallo! Where’s the other one?” he cried.

“The other one?” repeated his wife. “What other one, dear?”

“The—the child, Lily,” replied the astonished pater.

The good woman laughed, and answered, “There she is, at your side,”

“Nonsense; this little lady says she has just come from Mothland, and
that she is our Lily whom the Moths stole because she told a falsehood
over the breaking of the clock. Surely there aren’t two Lilys?” and the
farmer looked beneath the sofa, under the table, and even up the
chimney; but Scarlet Mantle, the moment she saw Lily enter the room,
vanished through the window, and of course was not to be found.

“Well, this is a queer go, wife.”

“Most extraordinary,” responded the mother, gazing with a doubtful look
upon the real Lily, who stood quietly looking from one to the other.

“Oh, this is Sis,” exclaimed Teddy. “There’s the bump on the nose which
I made with my ball last week. You’re Lily, who smashed the clock,
aren’t you?” he asked, looking up in her face.

“Indeed, Teddy dear, I’m your little sister, and it was I who broke the
clock, and the Moths took me away, and gave me this big, frightful
tongue, because I said I didn’t. You see here——”

And she put up her hand to her mouth, but lo! the ugly member had
vanished. How glad she felt that it was gone! The mere effort to do
right had brought its own reward. And as she repeated again, more
earnestly, “I broke the clock, and I want you to forgive me,” her
father saw she was really his own little girl, and giving her a hearty
kiss of forgiveness, seated her in her own accustomed place at table,
and they were very happy once more.

That night Lily slept soundly in her own room, in her own cosy bed, and
she thought it much better than dancing till she was tired round the
Moth circles by the river-bank.

And so thought the Scarlet Mantle!