THE MOON-STROKE
by Laurence Housman · from Moonshine & Clover
Adapted Version
Once, there was a family of jackdaws. They lived in a tall tree. They liked shiny things. But one little jackdaw was different. He did not like shiny things. He liked to think. He wanted to sing a beautiful song.
One night, Father Jackdaw came home. He brought a bright green light. It was a Glow-worm. The Glow-worm glowed softly. It missed its home. Little Jackdaw saw its pretty light. He heard a sad sound. The Glow-worm was unhappy. Little Jackdaw felt its sadness. He knew what to do. Little Jackdaw helped the Glow-worm. He put it in the soft grass.
After this, Little Jackdaw felt special. His heart felt light. The world looked new. He loved the moon. He saw beautiful things now. He heard beautiful sounds. He was moon-struck.
Later, Father Jackdaw brought a shiny stick. It had a green light. The stick was very bright. The sound was a tiny cry. Little Jackdaw knew it. He heard a sad sound. He found a Little Fairy. The Little Fairy sat on a leaf. Her wings were droopy. She was very sad. He gave her the stick.
The Little Fairy was very happy. Her smile was bright. She thanked him much. She asked Little Jackdaw what he wanted. He told her his wish. He wanted to sing a beautiful song. A soft light shone. She waved her magic stick. He could sing now.
The Little Jackdaw sang a lovely song. His song was sweet. His family did not understand. His family did not like it. Mother said, 'Strange!' Father said, 'Loud!' They ruffled their feathers. Other birds did not like his song. Other birds flew away. He felt alone. Little Jackdaw felt very sad.
A man heard him sing. The man smiled a big smile. He wanted the song. The man took Little Jackdaw. He put Little Jackdaw in a cage. The cage was small. Little Jackdaw felt trapped. His wings hurt. Little Jackdaw cannot fly. He was very sad. He sang for the man.
The man showed Little Jackdaw to people. Many people watched. The bottle was clear glass. Little Jackdaw saw the Little Fairy. She was in a small bottle. The Little Fairy looked pale. Her light was dim. She looked very sad.
The Little Jackdaw saw a shiny pin. The pin glinted bright. It was a tiny wand. It was on the man. He knew it. He remembered the green light. His heart beat fast. It was the Little Fairy's magic stick. He took the pin quickly.
The man was surprised. The man shouted loud. He dropped the bottle. The glass shattered. The bottle broke. The Fairy was free. The Little Fairy flew out. She smiled at him. The Little Jackdaw gave her the magic stick.
The Little Fairy was happy. Her touch was warm. A spark flew out. She touched Little Jackdaw. His wings felt new. Now he could fly again! His wings were strong. He soared to the sky. They flew high, high up.
The Little Fairy took him to the moon. The moon was bright. Other birds welcomed him. On the moon, all birds sing beautiful songs. Their songs filled the air. They are all special. Everyone was unique. They are moon-struck. The Little Jackdaw is happy. He sings his beautiful song. He was truly home. It is good to be yourself.
Original Story
THE MOON-STROKE
IN the hollow heart of an old tree a Jackdaw and his wife had made themselves a nest. As soon as the mother of his eggs had finished laying, she sat waiting patiently for something to come of it. One by one five mouths poked out of the shells, demanding to be fed; so for weeks the happy couple had to be continually in two places at once searching for food to satisfy them.
Presently the wings of the young ones grew strong; they could begin to fly about; and the parents found time for a return to pleasuring and curiosity-hunting. They began gathering in a wise assortment of broken glass and chips of platter to grace the corners of their dwelling. All but the youngest Jackdaw were enchanted with their unutterable beauty and value; they were never tired of quarrelling over the possession and arrangement of them.
"But what are they for?" asked the youngest, a perverse bird who kept himself apart from the rest, and took no share in their daily squabblings.
The mother-bird said: "They are beautiful, and what God intended for us: therefore they must be true. We may not see the use of them yet, but no doubt some day they will come true."
The little Jackdaw said: "Their corners scratch me when I want to go to sleep; they are far worse than crumbs in the bed. All the other birds do without them—why should not we?"
"That is what distinguishes us from the other birds!" replied the Janedaw, and thanked her stars that it was so.
"I wish we could sing!" sighed the littlest young Jackdaw.
"Babble, babble!" replied his mother angrily.
And then, as it was dinner-time, he forgot his grief, as they all said grace and fell-to.
One evening the old Jackdaw came home very late, carrying something that burned bright and green, like an evening star; all the nest shone where he set it down.
"What do you think of that for a discovery?" he said to the Janedaw.
"Think?" she said; "I can't. Some of it looks good to eat; but that fire-patch at the end would burn one's inside out."
Presently the Jackdaw family settled itself down to sleep; only the youngest one sat up and watched. Now he had seen something beautiful. Was it going to come true? Its light was like the song of the nightingale in the leaves overhead: it glowed, and throbbed, and grew strong, flooding the whole place where it lay.
Soon, in the silence, he heard a little wail of grief: "Why have they carried me away here," sighed the glow-worm, "out of the tender grass that loves the ground?"
The littlest Jackdaw listened with all his heart. Now something at last was going to become true, without scratching his legs and making him feel as though crumbs were in his bed.
A little winged thing came flying down to the green light, and two voices began crying together—the glow-worm and its mate.
"They have carried you away?"
"They have carried me away; up here I shall die!"
"I am too weak to lift you," said the one with wings; "you will stay here, and you will die!" Then they cried yet more.
"It seems to me," thought the Jackdaw, "that as soon as the beautiful becomes true, God does not intend it to be for us." He got up softly from among his brothers. "I will carry you down," he said. And without more ado, he picked it up and carried it down out of the nest, and laid it in the long grass at the foot of the tree.
Overhead the nightingale sang, and the full moon shone; its rays struck down on the little Jackdaw's head.
For a bird that is not a nightingale to wake up and find its head unprotected under the rays of a full moon is serious: there and then he became moon-struck. He went back into bed; but he was no longer the same little Jackdaw. "Oh, I wish I could sing!" he thought; and not for hours could he get to sleep.
In the morning, when the family woke up, the beautiful and the true was gone. The father Jackdaw thought he must have swallowed it in his sleep.
"If you did," said his wife, "there'll be a smell of burnt feathers before long!"
But the littlest Jackdaw said, "It came true, and went away, because it was never intended for us."
Now some days after this the old Jackdaw again came carrying something that shone like an evening star—a little spike of gold with a burning emerald set in the end of it. "And what do you think of that?" said he to his wife.
"I daren't come near it," she answered, "for fear it should burn me!"
That night the little Jackdaw lay awake, while all the others slept, waiting to hear the green stone break out into sorrow, and to see if its winged mate would come seeking it. But after hours had gone, and nothing stirred or spoke, he slipped softly out of the nest, and went down to search for the poor little winged mate who must surely be about somewhere.
And now, truly, among the grasses and flowers he heard something sobbing and sighing; a little winged thing darted into sight and out again, searching the ground like a dragon-fly at quest. And all the time, amid the darting and humming of its wings, came sobbing and wringing of hands.
The young Jackdaw called: "Little wings, what have you lost? Is it not a spike with a green light at the end of it?"
"My wand, my wand!" cried the fairy, beside herself with grief. "Just about sunset I was asleep in an empty wren's nest, and when I woke up my wand was gone!"
Then the little Jackdaw, being moon-struck, and not knowing the value of things, flew up to the nest and brought back the fairy her wand.
"Oh!" she cried, "you have saved my life!" And she thanked the Jackdaw till he grew quite modest and shy.
"What is it for? What can you do with it?" he asked.
"With this," she answered, "I can make anything beautiful come true! I can give you whatever you ask; you have but to ask, and you shall have."
Then the little Jackdaw, being moon-struck, and not knowing the value of things, said, "Oh, if I could only sing like a nightingale!"
"You can!" said the fairy, waving her wand but once; and immediately something like a melodious sneeze flew into his head and set it shaking.
"Chiou! chiou! True-true-true-true! Jug! jug! Oh, beautiful! beautiful!" His beak went dabbling in the sweet sound, rippling it this way and that, spraying it abroad out of his blissful heart as a jewel throws out its fires.
The fairy was gone; but the little Jackdaw sprang up into the high elm, and sang on endlessly through the whole night.
At dawn he stopped, and looking down, there he saw the family getting ready for breakfast, and wondering what had become of him.
Just as they were saying grace he flew in, his little heart beating with joy over his new-found treasure. What a jewel of a voice he had: better than all the pieces of glass and chips of platter lying down there in the nest! As soon as the parent-birds had finished grace, he lifted his voice and thanked God that the thing he had wished for had become true.
None of them understood what he said, but they paid him plenty of attention. All his brothers and sisters put up their heads and giggled, as the young do when one of their number misbehaves.
"Don't make that noise!" said his mother; "it's not decent!"
"It's low!" said the father-bird.
The littlest young Jackdaw was overwhelmed with astonishment. When he tried to explain, his unseemly melodies led to his immediate expulsion from the family circle. Such noises, he was told, could only be made in private; when he had quite got over them he might come back,—but not until.
He never got over them; so he never came back. For a few days he hid himself in different trees of the garden, and sang the praises of sorrow; but his family, though they comprehended him not, recognised his note, and came searching him with beak and claw, and drove him out so as not to have him near them committing such scandalous noises to the ears of the public.
"He lies in his throat!" said the old Jackdaw. "Everything he says he garbles. If he is our son he must have been hatched on the wrong side of the nest!"
After that, wherever he went, all the birds jeered at and persecuted him. Even the nightingales would not listen to his brotherly voice. They made fun of his black coat, and called him a Nonconformist without a conscience. "All this has come about," thought he, "because God never meant anything beautiful to come true."
One day a man who saw him and heard him singing, caught him, and took him round the world in a cage for show. The value of him was discovered. Great crowds came to see the little Jackdaw, and to hear him sing. He was described now as the "Amphabulous Philomel, or the Mongrel-Minstrel"; but it gave him no joy.
Before long he had become what we call tame—that is to say, his wings had been clipped; he was allowed out of his cage, because he could no longer fly away, and he sang when he was told, because he was whipped if he did not.
One day there was a great crowd round the travelling booth where he was on view: the showman had a new wonder which he was about to show to the people. He took the little Jackdaw out of his cage, and set him to perch upon his shoulder, while he busied himself over something which he was taking carefully out of ever so many boxes and coverings.
The Jackdaw's sad eye became attracted by a splendid scarf-pin that the showman wore—a gold pin set with a tiny emerald that burned like fire. The bird thought, "Now if only the beautiful could become true!"
And now the showman began holding up a small glass bottle for the crowd to stare into. The people were pushing this way and that to see what might be there.
At the bottom sat the little fairy, without her wand, weeping and beating her hands on the glass.
The showman was so proud he grew red in the face, and ran shouting up and down the plank, shaking and turning the bottle upside down now and then, so as to make the cabined fairy use her wings, and buzz like a fly against the glass.
The Jackdaw waggled unsteadily at his perch on the man's shoulder. "Look at him!" laughed someone in the crowd, "he's going to steal his master's scarf-pin."
"Ho, ho, ho!" shouted the showman. "See this bird now! See the marvellous mongrel nature of the beast! Who tells me he's only a nightingale painted black?"
The people laughed the more at that, for there was a fellow in the crowd looking sheepish. The Jackdaw had drawn out the scarf-pin, and held it gravely in its beak, looking sideways with cunning eyes. He was wishing hard. All the crowd laughed again.
Suddenly the showman's hand gave a jerk, the bottle slipped from his hold and fell, shivering itself upon the ground.
There was a buzz of wings—the fairy had escaped.
"The beautiful is coming true," thought the Jackdaw, as he yielded to the fairy her wand, and found, suddenly, that his wings were not clipped after all.
"What more can I do for you?" asked the fairy, as they flew away together. "You gave me back my wand; I have given you back your wings."
"I will not ask anything," said the little Jackdaw; "what God intends will come true."
"Let me take you up to the moon," said the fairy. "All the Jackdaws up there sing like nightingales."
"Why is that?" asked the little Jackdaw.
"Because they are all moon-struck," she answered.
"And what is it to be moon-struck?" he asked.
"Surely you should know, if anyone!" laughed the fairy. "To see things beautifully, and not as they are. On the moon you will be able to do that without any difficulty."
"Ah," said the little Jackdaw, "now I know at last that the beautiful is going to come true!"
Story DNA
Moral
True beauty and purpose are often misunderstood or rejected by the mundane world, but they hold their own inherent value and can lead to true freedom.
Plot Summary
A young Jackdaw, unlike his materialistic family, longs for true beauty and meaning. He becomes 'moon-struck' after helping a glow-worm, which grants him a unique perception. Later, he helps a trapped fairy, who grants his wish to sing like a nightingale. However, his family and other birds reject his beautiful singing as scandalous, leading to his persecution and eventual capture by a showman. In captivity, he recognizes the showman's emerald pin as the fairy's lost wand, and by returning it, he frees the fairy and regains his own wings. The fairy then takes him to the moon, a place where all Jackdaws are 'moon-struck' and sing beautifully, finally finding acceptance and freedom.
Themes
Emotional Arc
innocence to suffering to self-acceptance and freedom
Writing Style
Narrative Elements
Cultural Context
Laurence Housman was a British writer and illustrator, known for his fairy tales and fantasy. This story reflects themes common in late 19th/early 20th-century children's literature, often exploring individuality and societal pressures.
Plot Beats (12)
- A Jackdaw family nests in a tree, collecting shiny objects; the youngest questions their purpose and wishes to sing.
- The father brings home a glow-worm; the youngest Jackdaw, seeing its beauty and hearing its sorrow, returns it to the grass.
- The youngest Jackdaw becomes 'moon-struck' after this act, gaining a new perception of beauty and truth.
- The father brings home a fairy's wand; the moon-struck Jackdaw, hearing the fairy's grief, returns it to her.
- The fairy grants the Jackdaw's wish to sing like a nightingale.
- The Jackdaw sings joyfully, but his family and other birds reject his singing as unnatural and scandalous.
- Persecuted, the Jackdaw is caught by a showman who exploits his singing talent, clipping his wings and caging him.
- At a show, the Jackdaw sees the same fairy trapped in a bottle by the showman.
- Recognizing the showman's scarf-pin as the fairy's wand, the Jackdaw cunningly steals it.
- The showman drops the bottle, the fairy escapes, and the Jackdaw returns her wand.
- The fairy restores the Jackdaw's wings, and they fly away together.
- The fairy invites the Jackdaw to the moon, where all Jackdaws are moon-struck and sing beautifully, a place where his true nature is accepted.
Characters
The Youngest Jackdaw ★ protagonist
A small, sleek jackdaw, slightly smaller than his siblings, with glossy black feathers that shimmer with an iridescent blue-purple sheen in the light. His build is slender and agile, allowing for quick, darting movements. He has delicate, nimble claws and a sharp, pointed beak.
Attire: Natural black feathers, typical of a jackdaw. No clothing.
Wants: To understand the true nature of beauty and purpose, to find a place where his unique voice is valued, and ultimately, to sing like a nightingale.
Flaw: His sensitivity and desire for true beauty make him an outcast among his pragmatic family and other birds. He is easily disheartened by rejection and misunderstanding.
Starts as a questioning, sensitive young bird. Becomes 'moon-struck' after an act of compassion, gaining the ability to sing beautifully but becoming an outcast. He is exploited by a showman, loses his freedom, but eventually reclaims it by helping the fairy again. He learns that true beauty and purpose are not always found in the mundane world and finds his place on the moon where his unique perspective is understood.
Perceptive, sensitive, curious, independent, compassionate, and later, melancholic. He questions norms and seeks deeper meaning beyond superficial beauty.
Image Prompt & Upload
A small, slender jackdaw with glossy black feathers that shimmer with an iridescent blue-purple sheen. He stands upright, facing forward, full body visible from head to toe. His intelligent, dark, bead-like eyes convey a sense of deep thought and wonder. His beak is sharp and pointed. He has delicate, nimble claws. His posture is slightly contemplative, as if listening intently. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
The Old Jackdaw (Father) ◆ supporting
A robust, mature jackdaw with strong wings and a sturdy build, typical of a seasoned scavenger. His black feathers might be slightly ruffled or worn from years of foraging. He carries himself with an air of authority within the nest.
Attire: Natural black feathers, typical of a jackdaw. No clothing.
Wants: To provide for his family, to collect valuable and beautiful (in his eyes) objects, and to maintain order and tradition within the nest.
Flaw: His inability to understand or appreciate non-material beauty and his rigid adherence to conventional norms. He is quick to judge and expel anything that deviates from his expectations.
Remains largely unchanged, continuing to value material possessions and dismissing his son's unique abilities. He represents the conventional world that the protagonist must leave behind.
Proud, materialistic, traditional, pragmatic, dismissive of abstract beauty. He values tangible 'discoveries' and conformity.
Image Prompt & Upload
A sturdy, mature jackdaw with strong wings and glossy black feathers. He stands upright, facing forward, full body visible from head to toe. His dark, observant eyes convey a sense of pride and authority. His beak is strong and pointed. He holds a small, shimmering piece of broken green glass carefully in his beak. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
The Janedaw (Mother) ◆ supporting
A slightly smaller and perhaps more elegant jackdaw than her mate, with sleek black feathers. She appears busy and attentive, especially to her young, though her focus is on their conformity.
Attire: Natural black feathers, typical of a jackdaw. No clothing.
Wants: To raise her children according to jackdaw norms, to maintain a 'beautiful' (materially rich) nest, and to ensure her family is 'distinguished' from others.
Flaw: Her narrow-mindedness and inability to accept anything outside her understanding of 'normal' or 'decent'. She prioritizes social acceptance over individual expression.
Remains unchanged, serving as the voice of conventional society that rejects the protagonist's unique gift.
Traditional, pragmatic, easily angered by deviation, proud of her family's distinctiveness (even if superficial). She values conformity and 'decency'.
Image Prompt & Upload
A sleek, black jackdaw with a neat appearance. She stands upright, facing forward, full body visible from head to toe. Her dark, watchful eyes convey a sense of mild exasperation. Her beak is neat and pointed. Her posture is attentive, with a slight tilt of her head as if listening critically. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
The Fairy ◆ supporting
A tiny, winged creature, small enough to fit into a glass bottle. Her form is delicate and ethereal, suggesting lightness and fragility. She is described as 'a little winged thing'.
Attire: No specific clothing mentioned, implying a natural, perhaps shimmering, form consistent with a tiny magical being.
Wants: To retrieve her lost wand, which is essential for her existence and power, and to help those who help her.
Flaw: Powerless and vulnerable without her wand, easily captured.
Starts as a distressed, powerless captive, is rescued by the Youngest Jackdaw, regains her power, and uses it to grant the Jackdaw's wish and ultimately guide him to his true place.
Grateful, powerful (with her wand), sorrowful when separated from her wand, generous, and a little mischievous (laughing at the Jackdaw's moon-struck state).
Image Prompt & Upload
A tiny, delicate winged fairy, no larger than a thumb, with translucent, shimmering wings. She floats gracefully, facing forward, full body visible from head to toe. Her features are delicate and ethereal, with a gentle, knowing smile. She holds a slender, glowing wand with a burning emerald set at the end in her tiny hands. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
The Showman ⚔ antagonist
A boisterous and proud man, likely of average height and build, but with a presence that commands attention. He is described as growing 'red in the face' from pride and running 'up and down the plank', suggesting an energetic and somewhat theatrical demeanor.
Attire: Implied to be dressed in attire suitable for a traveling showman of the era, likely somewhat flashy but practical. He wears a 'splendid scarf-pin'.
Wants: To profit from exhibiting 'wonders' and to gain fame and admiration from crowds.
Flaw: His excessive pride and carelessness, which lead to him dropping the bottle and losing his captive fairy.
Remains unchanged, serving as a representation of human exploitation and materialism. His actions inadvertently lead to the protagonist's final liberation.
Greedy, proud, exploitative, boastful, and lacking empathy. He values profit and public spectacle above all else.
Image Prompt & Upload
A boisterous adult man, facing forward, full body visible from head to toe. He has a flushed, red face, a wide, showman's grin, and bright, eager eyes. He wears a practical but slightly flashy traveling showman's outfit, perhaps a dark waistcoat over a light shirt, with a colorful scarf. A splendid gold scarf-pin set with a tiny emerald is prominently displayed on his scarf. He holds a small glass bottle in one hand, gesturing excitedly with the other. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
The Glow-worm ○ minor
A small, soft-bodied insect capable of emitting a bright, green light from its tail. It is delicate and vulnerable.
Attire: Natural insect body. No clothing.
Wants: To return to the tender grass and its mate.
Flaw: Its fragility and inability to move itself once captured, and its dependence on its natural habitat.
Serves as the initial catalyst for the Youngest Jackdaw's act of compassion, demonstrating that true beauty can be fragile and have a purpose beyond mere display.
Sorrowful, vulnerable, expresses deep grief at being separated from its natural environment and mate.
Image Prompt & Upload
A small, soft-bodied insect, approximately one inch long, with a segmented body. Its tail end emits a bright, pulsating green light that illuminates the immediate area. It lies still, facing forward, full body visible from head to toe. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
Locations
Hollow Heart of an Old Tree
A cozy, enclosed space within the trunk of an ancient, large tree, serving as a nest. It is initially dark but later illuminated by a glowing object. The interior is cluttered with 'wise assortment of broken glass and chips of platter'.
Mood: Initially domestic and bustling, later becomes a place of quiet observation, wonder, and eventually, sorrow and revelation.
The jackdaw family's home; where the youngest jackdaw first encounters true beauty (the glow-worm) and later the fairy's wand, leading to his moon-struck transformation.
Image Prompt & Upload
A cross-section view of a massive, ancient oak tree trunk, revealing a hollowed-out, dark interior. Inside, a rough-hewn nest of twigs and mud is visible, littered with glinting shards of broken glass and ceramic. A soft, ethereal green light emanates from a small, glowing object nestled among the debris, casting long, dancing shadows on the textured, bark-lined walls of the tree cavity. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
Foot of the Old Tree / Long Grass
The ground directly beneath the old tree, covered in tender, long grass and various flowers. It is bathed in moonlight.
Mood: Serene, natural, and intimate, a place of quiet rescue and magical encounter.
The youngest jackdaw brings the glow-worm back to its mate here. Later, he searches for the fairy's mate and returns her wand, receiving his singing voice and becoming moon-struck.
Image Prompt & Upload
A close-up, ground-level perspective looking up from a dense patch of dewy, emerald-green long grass and wildflowers, illuminated by the cool, silvery glow of a full moon. The gnarled, moss-covered roots of a colossal, ancient oak tree are visible in the background, disappearing into the darkness above. The air is still, and tiny dew drops glisten on the grass blades. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
Travelling Booth / Fairground
A bustling public space, likely a fairground or market, featuring a travelling booth. The booth has a plank for the showman and is surrounded by a curious crowd. It is a place of spectacle and confinement.
Mood: Noisy, crowded, boisterous, and ultimately a place of injustice and longing for the jackdaw and fairy.
The moon-struck jackdaw is displayed here in a cage. He witnesses the fairy's captivity and, by stealing the showman's scarf-pin, inadvertently helps her escape, regaining his own freedom.
Image Prompt & Upload
A vibrant, bustling fairground scene with a rustic, weathered wooden travelling booth at its center. A boisterous crowd of people in period attire, their faces upturned in curiosity, surrounds the booth. The showman stands on a raised plank, holding a small glass bottle, while a black jackdaw perches precariously on his shoulder, its dark feathers contrasting with the showman's colorful scarf-pin. The ground is packed earth, and distant tents and banners suggest a lively atmosphere. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
