The Five Jars Read online

  Produced by Iona Vaughan, Mark Akrigg, Jana Srna and theOnline Distributed Proofreading Canada Team athttps://www.pgdpcanada.net

  THE FIVE JARS

  by

  M. R. JAMES.

  Author of "Ghost Stories of an Antiquary"

  New York. Longmans, Green & Co.

  London. Edward Arnold & Co.

  1922

  All Rights Reserved

  _Printed in Great Britain by_

  UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED, THE GRESHAM PRESS, LONDON AND WOKING

  CONTENTS

  PAGE

  I. THE DISCOVERY 11

  II. THE FIRST JAR 31

  III. THE SECOND JAR 43

  IV. THE SMALL PEOPLE 59

  V. DANGER TO THE JARS 83

  VI. THE CAT, WAG, SLIM AND OTHERS 109

  VII. THE BAT-BALL 135

  VIII. WAG AT HOME 155

  I

  THE DISCOVERY

  My Dear Jane,

  You remember that you were puzzled when I told you I had heard somethingfrom the owls--or if not puzzled (for I know you have some experience ofthese things), you were at any rate anxious to know exactly how ithappened. Perhaps the time has now come for you to be told.

  It was really luck, and not any skill of mine, that put me in the way ofit; luck, and also being ready to believe more than I could see. I havepromised not to put down on paper the name of the wood where ithappened: that can keep till we meet; but all the rest I can tellexactly as it came about.

  It is a wood with a stream at the edge of it; the water is brown andclear. On the other side of it are flat meadows, and beyond these ahillside quite covered with an oak wood. The stream has alder-treesalong it, and is pretty well shaded over; the sun hits it in places andmakes flecks of light through the leaves.

  The day I am thinking of was a very hot one in early September. I hadcome across the meadows with some idea of sitting by the stream andreading. The only change in my plans that I made was that instead ofsitting down I lay down, and instead of reading I went to sleep.

  You know how sometimes--but very, very seldom--you see something in adream which you are quite sure is real. So it was with me this time. Idid not dream any story or see any people; I only dreamt of a plant. Inthe dream no one told me anything about it: I just saw it growing undera tree: a small bit of the tree root came into the picture, an oldgnarled root covered with moss, and with three sorts of eyes in it,round holes trimmed with moss--you know the kind. The plant was not oneI should have thought much about, though certainly it was not one that Iknew: it had no flowers or berries, and grew quite squat in the ground;more like a yellow aconite without the flower than anything else. Itseemed to consist of a ring of six leaves spread out pretty flat withnine points on each leaf. As I say, I saw this quite clearly, andremembered it because six times nine makes fifty-four, which happens tobe a number which I had a particular reason for remembering at thatmoment.

  Well, there was no more in the dream than that: but, such as it was, itfixed itself in my mind like a photograph, and I was sure that if ever Isaw that tree root and that plant, I should know them again. And, thoughI neither saw nor heard anything more of them than I have told you, itwas borne in upon my mind that the plant _was_ worth finding.

  When I woke up I still lay, feeling very lazy, on the grass with my headwithin a foot or two of the edge of the stream and listened to itsnoise, until in five or six minutes--whether I began to doze off againor not does not much matter--the water-sound became like words, andsaid, "_Trickle-up, trickle-up_," an immense number of times. It pleasedme, for though in poetry we hear a deal about babbling brooks, andthough I am particularly fond of the noise they make, I never was ablebefore to pretend that I could hear any words. And when I did finallyget up and shake myself awake I thought I would anyhow pay so muchattention to what the water said as to stroll up the stream instead ofdown. So I did: it took me through the flat meadows, but still along theedge of the wood, and still every now and then I heard the same peculiarnoise which sounded like _Trickle-up_.

  Not so very long after, I came to a place where another stream ran outof the wood into the one I had been following, and just below the placewhere the two joined there was--not a bridge, but a pole across, andanother pole to serve as a rail, by which you could cross, withouttrouble. I did cross, not thinking much about it, but with some idea oflooking at this new little stream, which went at a very quick pace andseemed to promise small rapids and waterfalls a little higher up. Nowwhen I got to the edge of it, there was no mistake: it was saying"_Trickle-up_," or even "_Track-up_," much plainer than the old one. Istepped across it and went a few yards up the old stream. Before the newone joined it, it was saying nothing of the kind. I went back to the newone: it was talking as plain as print. Of course there were no two wordsabout what must be done now. Here was something quite new, and even if Imissed my tea, it had got to be looked into. So I went up the newstream into the wood.

  Though I was well on the look-out for unusual things--in particular theplant, which I could not help thinking about--I cannot say there wasanything peculiar about the stream or the plants or the insects or thetrees (except the words which the water kept saying) so long as I was inthe flat part of the wood. But soon I came to a steepish bank--the landbegan to slope up suddenly and the rapids and waterfalls of the brookwere very gay and interesting. Then, besides _Track-up_, which was nowits word always instead of _Trickle_, I heard every now and then _Allright_, which was encouraging and exciting. Still, there was nothing outof the way to be seen, look as I might.

  The climb up the slope or bank was fairly long. At the top was a kind ofterrace, pretty level and with large old trees growing upon it, mainlyoaks. Behind there was a further slope up and still more woodland: butthat does not matter now. For the present I was at the end of mywanderings. There was no more stream, and I had found what of allnatural things I think pleases me best, a real spring of water quiteuntouched.

  Five or six oaks grew in something like a semicircle, and in the middleof the flat ground in front of them was an almost perfectly round pool,not more than four or five feet across. The bottom of it in the middlewas pale sand which was continually rising up in little egg-shapedmounds and falling down again. It was the clearest and strongest springof the kind I had ever seen, and I could have watched it for hours. Idid sit down by it and watch it for some time without thinking ofanything but the luck I had had to find it. But then I began to wonderif it would say anything. Naturally I could not expect it to say"_Track-up_" any more, for here I was at the end of it. So I listenedwith some curiosity. It hardly made so much noise as the stream: thepool was deeper. But I thought it must say something, and I put my headdown as close as I could to the surface of the water. If I am notmistaken (and as things turned out I am sure I was right) the wordswere: _Gather gather, pick pick_, or _quick quick_.

  Now I had not been thinking about the plant for a little time; but, asyou may suppose, this brought it back to my mind and I got up and beganto look about at the roots of the old oaks which grew just round thespring. No, none of the roots on this side which faced towards the waterwere like that which I had seen--still, the feeling was strong upon methat this, if any, was the kind of place, and even the very place, wherethe plant must be. So I walked to the back of the trees, being carefulto go from right to left, according to the course of the sun.

  Well, I was not mistaken. At the
back of the middlemost oak-tree therewere the roots I had dreamt of with the moss and the holes like eyes,and between them was the plant. I think the only thing which was new tome in the look of it was that it was so extraordinarily _green_. Itseemed to have in it all the greenness that was possible or that wouldbe wanted for a whole field of grass.

  I had some scruples about touching it. In fact, I actually went back tothe spring and listened, to make sure that it was still saying the samething. Yes, it was: "_Gather gather, pick_." But there was somethingelse every now and then which I could _not_ for the life of me make outat first. I lay down, put my hand round my ear and held my breath. Itmight have been _bark tree_ or _dark tree_ or _cask free_. I gotimpatient at last and said:

  "Well, I'm very sorry, but do what I will I _cannot_ make out what youare trying to say."

  Instantly a little spirt of water hit me on the ear, and I heard, asclear as possible, what it was: "_Ask tree_."

  I got up at once. "I _beg_ your pardon," I said, "of course. Thank youvery much;" and the water went on saying "_Gather gather, all right, dipdip_."

  After thinking how best to greet it, I went back to the oak, stood infront of it and said (of course baring my head):

  "Oak, I humbly desire your good leave to gather the green plant whichgrows between your roots. If an acorn falls into this my right hand"(which I held out) "I will count it that you answer yes--and give youthanks." The acorn fell straight into the palm of my hand. I said, "Ithank you, Oak: good growth to you. I will lay this your acorn in theplace whence I gather the plant."

  Then very carefully I took hold of the stalk of the plant (which wasvery short, for, as I said, it grew rather flat on the ground) andpulled, and to my surprise it came up as easily as a mushroom. It had aclean round bulb without any rootlets and left a smooth neat hole in theground, in which, according to promise, I laid the acorn, and covered itin with earth. I think it very likely that it will turn into a secondplant.

  Then I remembered the last word of the spring and went back to dip theplant in it. I had a shock when I did so, and it was lucky I was holdingit firm, for when it touched the water it struggled in my hand like afish or a newt and almost slipped out. I dipped it three times andthought I felt it growing smaller in my hand: and indeed when I lookedat it I found it had shut up its leaves and curled them in quite close,so that the whole thing was little more than a bulb. As I looked at it Ithought the water changed its note and said, "_That'll do, that'll do_."

  I thought it was time to thank the spring for all it had done for me,though, as you may suppose, I did not yet know in the least what was tobe done with the plant, or what use it was going to be.

  So I went over and said in the politest words I could how much I wasobliged, and if there was anything I had or could do which would beagreeable, how glad I should be. Then I listened carefully, for itseemed by this time quite natural that I should get some sort of answer.It came. There was a sudden change in the sound, and the water saidclearly and rapidly, "_Silver silver silver silver_." I felt in mypocket. Luckily I had several shillings, sixpences and half-crowns. Ithought the best way was to offer them all, so I put them in the palm ofmy right hand and held it under the water, open, just over the dancingsand. For a few seconds the water ran over the silver without doinganything: only the coins seemed to grow very bright and clean. Then oneof the shillings was very neatly and smoothly slid off, and thenanother and a sixpence. I waited, but no more happened, and the waterseemed to draw itself down and away from my hand, and to say "_Allright_." So I got up.

  The three coins lay on the bottom of the pool looking brighter than eventhe newest I have ever seen, and gradually as they lay there they beganto appear larger. The shillings looked like half-crowns and the sixpencelike a shilling. I thought for a moment that it was because watermagnifies, but I soon saw that this could not be the reason, for theywent on growing larger, and of course thinner, until they finally spreadinto a kind of silver film all over the bottom of the pool; and as theydid so the water began to take on a musical sound, much like the singingthat comes when you wet your finger and draw it round the edge of afinger glass at dessert (which some people's idea of table mannersallows them to do). It was a pretty sight and sound, and I listened andlooked for a long time.

  But all this time what had become of the plant? Why, when I gave thesilver to the spring I had wrapped the plant carefully in a silkhandkerchief and put it safe in my breast pocket. I took thehandkerchief out now, and for a moment I was afraid the plant was gone;but it was not. It had shrunk to a very small whity-green ball. Now whatwas to be done with it, or rather what could it do? It was plain to methat it must have a strange and valuable property or virtue, since I hadbeen put on its track in such a remarkable way. I thought I could not dobetter than ask the spring. I said, "O Spring of water, have I your goodleave to ask what I should do with this precious plant to put it to thebest use?" The silver lining of the spring made its words much easier tocatch when it said anything--for I should tell you that for the mostpart now it did not speak, or not in any language that I couldunderstand, but rather sang--and it now said, "_Swallow swallow, drink,swallow_."

  _Prompt_ obedience, dear Jane, has always been my motto, as it isdoubtless yours, and I at once laid myself down, drank a mouthful ofwater from the spring, and put the little bulb in my mouth. It instantlygrew soft and slipped down my throat. How prosaic! I have no idea whatit tasted like.

  And again I addressed the spring: "Is there anything more for me to do?"

  "_No no, no no, you'll see, you'll see--good-bye, good-bye_," was theanswer which came at once.

  Accordingly I once more thanked the spring, wished it clear water, nomud, no tramplings of cattle, and bade it farewell. But, I said, Ishould hope to visit it again.

  Then I turned away and looked about me, wondering whether, now that Ihad swallowed the mysterious plant, I should see anything different. Theonly thing I noticed was due, I suppose, not to the plant, but to thespring; but it was odd enough. All the trees hard by were crowded withlittle birds of all kinds sitting in rows on the branches as they do ontelegraph wires. I have no doubt they were listening to the silver bellin the spring. They were quite still, and did not take any notice when Ibegan to walk away.

  I said, you will remember, that the ground I was on was a sort of flatterrace at the top of a steep slope. Now at one end this terrace justwent down into the wood, but at the other end there was a little moundor hillock with thick underwood behind it. I felt a curiosity, aninclination, to walk that way: I have very little doubt that the plantwas at the bottom of it. As I walked I looked at the ground, and noticeda curious thing: the roots of the plants and grasses seemed to show morethan I was accustomed to see them.

  It was not a great way to the hillock. When I got to it I wondered why Ihad gone, for there was nothing odd about it. Still I stepped on to thetop, and then I did see something, namely, a square flat stone just infront of my feet. I poked at it with my walking-stick, but somehow I didnot seem to touch it, nor was there any scraping noise. This was funny.I tried again, and now I saw that my stick was not touching it at all;there was something in between. I felt with my hands, and they met withwhat seemed like grass and earth, certainly not like stone. _Then_ Iunderstood. The plant was the one which makes you able to see what isunder the ground!

  I need not tell you all I thought, or how surprising and delightful itwas. The first thing was to get at the flat stone and find out what wasunderneath it.

  Accordingly, what with a knife and what with my fingers, I soon had ituncovered: it was four or five inches under the surface. There were nomarks on it; it measured more than a foot each way. I lifted it. It wasthe cover of a sort of box with bottom and sides each made of a slabjust like the lid. In this box was another, made of some dark metal,which I took to be lead. I pulled it out and found that the lid of thebox was all of one piece with the rest, like a sardine tin. Evidently Icould not open it there and then. It was rather heavy, but I did notca
re, and I managed without too much inconvenience to carry it home tothe place I was lodging in. Of course I put back the stone neatly andcovered it up with earth and grass again.

  I was late for tea, but I had found what was better than tea.