Litany of the Jewels

It is the nature (or perhaps we should say PRETERNATURE) of Fairies to love beautiful things: starshine and flowers, of course, and trees; rushing streams, dew-bright morning spider webs, and music. But of all the desires of the Fair People, there is one thing for which Man shares the same passion: Jewels. To the Fairies, gold is pretty enough stuff. It reminds them of sunlight dancing on water and of the turning leaves in autumn. (Catch a Leprechaun, they say, and demand of him his golden treasure: you’ll sleep a hundred years and wake with dead leaves in your pocket-he keeps his word.) Likewise, they cherish silver, for it puts them in mind of moonlight and icicles. But precious stones they value for themselves; perhaps because, like them, gems are earthbom, rare, and beautiful. When it comes to jewelry (and the Fairies are great craftsmen of jewelry)-to rings and pendants, bracelets and necklaces, to broaches and inlaid dagger hilts, coronets and combs-the Fair People can be jealous, greedy, vain, quarrelsome, possessive, treacherous-almost, in a word, human. When the Thirteen Nations of the Fair People came to the New Found Land, twelve tribes brought with them their chief pride and treasure: a gem from the Old World, a remembrance of their history and tradition. The Eivish folk of Scandia provided the uncanny casques in which the jewels were kept. Every Fairy, even the stupidest Goblin among them, knew by heart the Litany of the Jewels: