The Happy Family

Imagine a forest where the leaves are so broad they could be aprons, and the rain plays a soft drum on green roofs above a sleeping garden. Snooze to a tale that follows two old white snails who believe the paths, the plants, and a distant manor were made for their family. So snuggle up in your blankets and have sweet dreams. 

The music in this episode is The Breathing Woods by Center of Attention. 

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Dreamful is produced and hosted by Jordan Blair. Edited by Katie Sokolovska. Theme song by Joshua Snodgrass. Cover art by Jordan Blair. ©️ Dreamful LLC

Transcript

Jordan : 0:20

Welcome to Dreamful Podcast, Attempt Stories or Slumber. In this bonus episode, I will be reading the Happy Family. So, snuggle up your blankets and have sweet dreams. A little girl could wear it as an apron if she put it over her head in rainy weather. It would be as good as an umbrella. That's how big it is. No burdog ever grows alone. Nowhere one grows, there are plenty of others. They make a splendid show. And all that splendor used to be food for snails. A special kind of large white snail lives on the leaves. Kind of snail that rich people used to have made into a frucassé. They would murmur, delicious, as they ate it. That is why the burdocks came to be planted. Now there was an old manor house where they had long given up eating snails. The snails had almost died out. But not the burdocks. These grew and multiplied. They spread out all over the paths and flower beds till they were quite out of hand. The garden was an absolute burdock forest. Here and there stood an apple tree or plum tree. Otherwise, you would never know that it was a garden. Burdocks were everywhere. And among these lived the last two surviving snails, both extremely old. They did not know themselves how old they were, but they could well remember that there had once been many more of them, that their family came from foreign parts, and that it was for them and theirs, that the whole vast Burdock Forest had been planted. They had never been outside it. Though they did know that there was one more thing in the world called the manor house. There you were cooked, and you turned black and were placed on a silver dish. But what happened after that? No one knew. For that matter, they could not imagine what it felt like to be cooked and put on a silver dish. But it was supposed to be the most interesting and was certainly very distinguished. The cockchafer, toad, and earthworm were questioned about it. But none of these could help, for none of them had ever been cooked or placed on the silver dish. The old white snails were the aristocrats of the world. They had no doubts about that. The forest existed just for them. And so did the ancient manor house and its silver dish. They passed their days in a quiet, secluded happiness, and as they had no children, they had adopted a little common snail, which they brought up as their own. The little thing grew no bigger, for he was just a common snail. Yet the old folk, especially Mother Snail, always thought that he had grown a bit since yesterday. And when Father Snail seemed not to see the difference, she would ask him to feel the little shell. And so he would feel it and agree that Mother was right. One day, there was a heavy rainstorm. Listen to the drum drum drum on the burdock leaves, said Father Snail. Yes, and some of the drops are coming through. Said Mother Snail. Look, we are running right down the stalks. My goodness is going to be wet down here. How thankful I am for our good houses, a personal one for each, and for a little one, too. Really? We must be the most favored creatures. It's plain enough that we are the princes of the world. We each have a house as soon as we are born, and a whole forest planted for our benefit. I do wonder sometimes how far it stretches and what there is beyond it. There is nothing beyond it, replied Father. No one can be better off anywhere than here. And I don't want to look any further. Oh, but I do, said Mother Snail. I would rather like to go to the manor and be cooked, whatever that is, and laid on the silver dish. All our ancestors have done so, which shows that there must be something special about it. The manor house may have fallen into ruins by now, said Father Snail. Or it may be overgrown with burdocks, so that the people in it can't come out. Anyhow, there is no need to be in such a hurry. You are always in such a rush. Rush, rush. And now the little one is starting to. In three days, he has nearly finished calling up that stock. Makes me quite giddy to look at him. Now don't complain of our boy, said Mother Snail. He crawls along so carefully. I'm sure he'll be a great joy to us. And after all, what else have we old folks to live for? But have you thought of where we can find a wife for him? Don't you think that? Somewhere deep in this forest of burdocks, there might be one of our own kind. But that would be a come-down for us. They do give themselves airs. Still, we might commission the ants to look about. They're always scurrying to and fro as if they had plenty to do. They might very well know of a wife or a little snail. Ah, yes, said the ants. We know the most beautiful bride. But it might be hard to arrange, for she is a queen. That wouldn't matter, said the old snail. But has she a house? She has a palace, replied the ants. A magnificent ant palace with 700 corridors. Thank you, said Mother Snail. Our son is not going into an ant hill. If that's the best you can do, we'll pass on our inquiry to the white gnats. They fly far and wide in rain or sun. They know our forest inside and out. Yes, we have a wife for him, said the midges. A hundred man paces from here, on a gooseberry bush, is a little snail with a house. She is quite alone and is old enough to marry. Well, said the old couple, let her come to him. He owns a whole burdock forest. She has only a bush. So the gnats went and fetched the little snail maiden. It took eight days to make the journey. But that did not displease the parents. It showed that she came of good snail family. And so the wedding took place. Six glowworms did their best to provide the lighting. Otherwise, the affair was quiet enough. For the old snails did not care for feasting and merrymaking. But Mother Snail made a charming speech. Father was too overcome to speak himself. And then they handed over the whole dark forest to the young couple, saying, as they had always said, that it was the best place in the world, and that if the young pair lived honest, respectable lives, and had plenty of children, they and their family might someday go to the manor house and be cooked, whatever that meant, and laid on a silver dish. After the speech was over, the old snails retired into their houses and came out no more. They slept. The two young ones reigned in the forest and had many children, but they were never cooked, nor laid on a silver dish. So they concluded that the manor house had fallen down, and that all the people in the world had died out. And as nobody contradicted them, it must have been true. And the rain beat down on the burdock leaves to make music for them. And the sun shone to brighten the forest with color. And they were very happy. Never was there a happier family. You may be sure of that.