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A poem by Carolyn Sherwin Bailey

The Bag of Dust

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Title:     The Bag of Dust
Author: Carolyn Sherwin Bailey [More Titles by Bailey]

There was once a prince who went to his father, the King, to receive his fortune. And when the King ordered it to be brought in, what do you think it was--a great, gray bag of dust!

The Prince, now that he was old enough to go out in the world, had expected a very different fortune from this--a Kingdom all his own in some other land, a chest of jewels, and a gold crown.

But his father, the King, helped the Prince to put the bag of dust, which was very heavy indeed, upon his back.

"You are to carry this to the boundary line of the Kingdom without once dropping it," he said. And the Prince, who always did what his father, the King, said, set out.

It seemed as if the bag grew heavier at every step. The Prince had not known that dust could weigh so much. It sifted out of the coarse bag and covered his fine velvet cloak so that you could not have told him from the poorest subject in the Kingdom. The folk in the streets laughed at him, and the dogs barked at his heels.

Before the Prince had gone very far he came to a field where all the princes from the Kingdoms near by were playing games and riding their beautiful horses. The Prince stopped a moment, because he wanted to join them. He could ride a horse without a saddle, and hit the centre of a target with his bow and arrow. But as he stopped he remembered the bag of dust upon his back which his father, the King, had said that he must not set down.

So he started on again, but the bag was heavier now.

He had not gone much farther, when he came to a beautiful park, set in the midst of a green forest. There were rustic seats, placed beneath trees whose branches hung low with ripe fruit of all kinds. Some one must have known that the Prince was coming, for a table was set for him with sweets and other fruits and all manner of dainty things to eat. The Prince was very hungry, for it was long past noon and he had eaten nothing. He was about to sit down at the table when he remembered the bag of dust upon his back. He knew that he must not set it down.

So he started on again, but the bag was even heavier now.

He went on, farther and farther, and the way was strange to him now, for he had come a long way. The bag seemed to grow larger with every step that he took; it covered his back, and bent his shoulders, and bowed his head. Although he had come so far, he seemed no nearer the boundary of the Kingdom than he had been when he started out. Suddenly he saw, like a white cloud in front of him, a great lovely castle.

There was no one in the pretty rose garden in front save soft-eyed deer. There was no one looking out of the bright windows, or at the door which stood wide open. It seemed as if the castle was waiting for the Prince and, because he was very tired from carrying his load of dust so far, he went through the garden and up to the door. But, just as he was going inside, he discovered that the door was not large enough to let his bag through, too, and he knew that he must not set it down.

So he started on again, but the bag was heavier than it had ever been before.

On and on went the Prince, but he felt like an old man and his steps were slow because he was so tired. He wanted to turn back, and he wanted to set down his load, but his father, the King, had said that he must carry it to the boundary of the Kingdom. The day was almost done, but it seemed as if he would never reach it.

Suddenly, though, he came to the end of the road and looked over the edge of the Kingdom.

There was a castle, not white, but gold. All about it were more beautiful gardens than those which he had left behind. In the door stood his father, the King, come in his chariot by another road to welcome him.

"Set down your bag," said the King, so the Prince did and he felt suddenly rested and young again.

"Look inside it," said the King. So the Prince looked inside the bag, and he found out what had made it so heavy.

Each grain of dust had turned to gold!


[The end]
Carolyn Sherwin Bailey's short story: The Bag of Dust

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