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Title: The Fairy Tales of Charles Perrault

Author: Charles Perrault

Illustrator: Harry Clarke

Translator: J. E. Mansion
Robert Samber

Release date: June 1, 2009 [eBook #29021]
Most recently updated: May 26, 2026

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FAIRY
TALES OF CHARLES PERRAULT ***
Note: Images of the original pages are available through Internet
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THE FAIRY TALES OF
CHARLES PERRAULT

ILLUSTRATED BY
HARRY CLARKE WITH
AN INTRODUCTION BY
THOMAS BODKIN

GEORGE G. HARRAP & CO. LTD.

2 & 3 PORTSMOUTH STREET KINGSWAY

LONDON. W.C.2.

First published August 1922

CONTENTS.
PAGE
INTRODUCTION 9
LITTLE RED RIDING-HOOD 21
THE FAIRY 27
BLUE BEARD 35
THE SLEEPING BEAUTY IN THE WOOD 47
THE MASTER CAT; OR, PUSS IN BOOTS 67
CINDERILLA; OR, THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER 77
RIQUET WITH THE TUFT 93
LITTLE THUMB 109
THE RIDICULOUS WISHES 127
DONKEY-SKIN 137

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
Cinderilla and her Prince Frontispiece
"He asked her whither she was going" facing 24
"'What is this I see?' Said her mother" 28
"'Am I come hither to serve you with water, pray?'" facing 30
"'What, is not the key of my closet among the
rest?'" 36
"This man had the misfortune to have a blue beard" facing 38
"At this very instant the young Fairy came out from
behind the hangings" 48
The Prince enquires of the aged Countryman facing 54
"He saw, upon a bed, the finest sight was ever
facing
beheld" 56
"'I will have it so,' replied the Queen, 'and will eat
her with Sauce Robert'" 59
"The Marquis gave his hand to the Princess, and
facing
followed the King, who went up first" 74
"Away she drove, scarce able to contain herself for
joy" 78
"Any one but Cinderilla would have dressed their
facing
heads awry" 80
"She left behind one of her glass slippers, which the
Prince took up most carefully" 87
"The Prince believed he had given her more with
than he had reserved for himself" 99
"Riquet with the Tuft appeared to her the finest
facing
Prince upon earth" 104
"Little Thumb was as good as his word, and
returned that same night with the news" 110

"He brought them home by the very same way they
facing
came" 112
"Jupiter appeared before him wielding his mighty
thunderbolts" 128
"A long black pudding came winding and wriggling
facing
towards her" 130
"Truth to tell, this new ornament did not set off
her beauty" 133
"Another gown the colour of the moon" 138
"He thought the Princess was his Queen" 143
"Curiosity made him put his eye to the keyhole" facing 150

INTRODUCTION
"Avec ardeur il aima les beaux
arts."

Griselidis
harles Perrault must have been as charming a fellow as a man could
meet. He was one of the best-liked personages of his own great age,
and he has remained ever since a prime favourite of mankind. We are
fortunate in knowing a great deal about his varied life, deriving our
knowledge mainly from D'Alembert's history of the French Academy and
from his own memoirs, which were written for his grandchildren, but not
published till sixty-six years after his death. We should, I think, be more
fortunate still if the memoirs had not ceased in mid-career, or if their author
had permitted himself to write of his family affairs without reserve or
restraint, in the approved manner of modern autobiography. We should like,
for example, to know much more than we do about the wife and the two
sons to whom he was so devoted.
Perrault was born in Paris in 1628, the fifth son of Pierre Perrault, a
prosperous parliamentary lawyer; and, at the age of nine, was sent to a
day-school—the Collège de Beauvais. His father helped him with his
lessons at home, as he himself, later on, was accustomed to help his own
children. He can never have been a model schoolboy, though he was always
first in his class, and he ended his school career prematurely by quarrelling
with his master and bidding him a formal farewell.
The cause of this quarrel throws a bright light on Perraults subsequent
career. He refused to accept his teacher's philosophical tenets on the mere
ground of their traditional authority. He claimed that novelty was in itself a
merit, and on this they parted. He did not go alone. One of his friends, a
boy called Beaurain, espoused his cause, and for the next three or four
years the two read together, haphazard, in the Luxembourg Gardens. This
plan of study had almost certainly a bad effect on Beaurain, for we hear no

more of him. It certainly prevented Perrault from being a thorough scholar,
though it made him a man of taste, a sincere independent, and an
undaunted amateur.
In 1651 he took his degree at the University of Orléans, where degrees were
given with scandalous readiness, payment of fees being the only essential
preliminary. In the mean-time he had walked the hospitals with some vague
notion of following his brother Claude into the profession of medicine, and
had played a small part as a theological controversialist in the quarrel then
raging, about the nature of grace, between the Jesuits and the Jansenists.
Having abandoned medicine and theology he got called to the Bar,
practised for a while with distinct success, and coquetted with a notion of
codifying the laws of the realm. The Bar proved too arid a profession to
engage for long his attention; so he next sought and found a place in the
office of another brother, Pierre, who was Chief Commissioner of Taxes in
Paris. Here Perrault had little to do save to read at large in the excellent
library which his brother had formed.
For want of further occupation he returned to the writing of verse, one of
the chief pleasures of his boyhood. His first sustained literary effort had
been a parody of the sixth book of the "Æneid"; which, perhaps fortunately
for his reputation, was never published and has not survived. Beaurain and
his brother Nicholas, a doctor of the Sorbonne, assisted him in this
perpetration, and Claude made the pen-and-ink sketches with which it was
illustrated. In the few years that had elapsed since the writing of this
burlesque Perrault had acquired more sense and taste, and his new poems
—in particular the "Portrait d'Iris" and the "Dialogue entre l'Amour et
l'Amitié"—were found charming by his contemporaries. They were issued
anonymously, and Quinault, himself a poet of established reputation, used
some of them to forward his suit with a young lady, allowing her to think
that they were his own. Perrault, when told of Quinault's pretensions,
deemed it necessary to disclose his authorship; but, on hearing of the use to
which his work had been put, he gallantly remained in the background,
forgave the fraud, and made a friend of the culprit.
Architecture next engaged his attention, and in 1657 he designed a house at
Viry for his brother and supervised its construction. Colbert approved so
much of this performance that he employed him in the superintendence of

the royal buildings and put him in special charge of Versailles, which was
then in process of erection. Perrault flung himself with ardour into this
work, though not to the exclusion of his other activities. He wrote odes in
honour of the King; he planned designs for Gobelin tapestries and
decorative paintings; he became a member of the select little Academy of
Medals and Inscriptions which Colbert brought into being to devise suitable
legends for the royal palaces and monuments; he encouraged musicians
and fought the cause of Lulli; he joined with Claude in a successful effort to
found the Academy of Science.
Claude Perrault had something of his brother's versatility and shared his
love for architecture, and the two now became deeply interested in the
various schemes which were mooted for the completion of the Louvre.
Bernini was summoned by the King from Rome, and entrusted with the task;
but the brothers Perrault intervened. Charles conceived the idea of the
great east front and communicated it to Claude, who drew the plans and
was commissioned to carry them out. The work was finished in 1671, and is
still popularly known as Perrault's Colonnade.
In the same year Charles was elected to the Academy without any personal
canvas on his part for the honour. His inaugural address was heard with
such approval that he ventured to suggest that the inauguration of future
members should be a public function. The suggestion was adopted, and
these addresses became the most famous feature of the Academy's
proceedings and are so to the present day. This was not his only service to
the Academy, for he carried a motion to the effect that future elections
should be by ballot; and invented and provided, at his own expense, a
ballot-box which, though he does not describe it, was probably the model of
those in use in all modern clubs and societies.
The novelty of his views did not always commend them to his brother
'Immortals.' Those expressed in his poem "Le Siècle de Louis XIV," which
he read as an Academician of sixteen years' standing, initiated one of the
most famous and lasting literary quarrels of the era. Perrault, in praising
the writers of his own age, ventured to disparage some of the great authors
of the ancient classics. Boileau lashed himself into a fury of opposition and
hurled strident insults against the heretic. Racine, more adroit, pretended to
think that the poem was a piece of ingenious irony. Most men of letters

hastened to participate in the battle. No doubt Perrault's position was
untenable, but he conducted his defence with perfect temper and much wit;
and Boileau made himself not a little absurd by his violence and his obvious
longing to display the extent of his learning. Perrault's case is finally stated
in his four volumes, "Le Parallèle des Anciens et des Modernes," which
were published in 1688-1696. He evidently took vastly more pride in this
dull and now almost forgotten work than in the matchless stories which
have made him famous for ever.
After twenty years in the service of Colbert, the sun of Perrault's fortunes
passed its zenith. His brother, the Commissioner of Taxes, had a dispute
with the Minister and was disgraced. Then Perrault got married to a young
lady of whom we know nothing except that her marriage was the subject of
some opposition from his powerful employer. In a matter of the sort
Perrault, though a courtier, could be relied on to consider no wishes save
those of his future wife and himself. Colbert's own influence with the King
became shaky, and this affected his temper. So Perrault, then just fifty-five,
slid quietly from his service in the year 1683.
Before he went, he succeeded in frustrating a project for closing the
Tuileries Gardens against the people of Paris and their children. Colbert
proposed to reserve them to the royal use, but Perrault persuaded him to
come there one day for a walk, showed him the citizens taking the air and
playing with their children; got the gardeners to testify that these privileges
were never abused, and carried his point by declaring, finally, that "the
King's pleasaunce was so spacious that there was room for all his children
to walk there."
Sainte-Beuve, seventy years ago, pleaded that this service to the children of
Paris should be commemorated by a statue of Perrault in the centre of the
Tuileries. The statue has never been erected; and, to the present day, Paris,
so plentifully provided with statues and pictures of the great men of France,
has neither the one nor the other to show that she appreciates the genius of
Perrault. Indeed, there is no statue of him in existence; and the only
painting of him with which I am acquainted is a doubtful one hung far away
in an obscure corner of the palace of Versailles.

The close of Perrault's official career marked the beginning of his period of
greatest literary activity. In 1686 he published his long narrative poem
"Saint Paulin Evesque de Nole" with "a Christian Epistle upon Penitence"
and "an Ode to the Newly-converted," which he dedicated to Bossuet.
Between the years 1688 and 1696 appeared the "Parallèle des Anciens et
des Modernes" to which I have already referred. In 1693 he brought out his
"Cabinet des Beaux Arts," beautifully illustrated by engravings, and
containing a poem on painting which even Boileau condescended to
admire. In 1694 he published his "Apologie des Femmes." He wrote two
comedies—"L'Oublieux" in 1691, and "Les Fontanges." These were not
printed till 1868. They added nothing to his reputation. Between 1691 and
1697 were composed the immortal "Histoires ou Contes du Temps Passé"
and the "Contes en Vers." Toward the end of his life he busied himself with
the "Éloges des Hommes Illustres du Siècle de Louis XIV." The first of these
two stately volumes came out in 1696 and the second in 1700. They were
illustrated by a hundred and two excellent engravings, including one, by
Edelinck, of Perrault himself and another of his brother Claude. These
biographies are written with kindly justice, and form a valuable
contribution to the history of the reign of the Roi Soleil. I have not
exhausted the list of Perrault's writings, but, to speak frankly, the rest are
not worth mentioning.
He died, aged seventy-five, in 1703, deservedly admired and regretted by all
who knew him. This was not strange. For he was clever, honest, courteous,
and witty. He did his duty to his family, his employer, his friends, and to the
public at large. In an age of great men, but also of great prejudices, he
fought his own way to fame and fortune. He served all the arts, and
practised most of them. Painters, writers, sculptors, musicians, and men of
science all gladly made him free of their company. As a good Civil Servant
he was no politician, and he showed no leaning whatever toward what was
regarded in his time as the greatest of all professions—that of arms. These
two deficiencies, if deficiencies they be, only endear him the more to us.
Every one likes a man who deserves to enjoy life and does, in fact, enjoy it.
Perrault was such a man. He was more. He was the cause of enjoyment to
countless of his fellows, and his stories still promise enjoyment to countless
others to come.

It is amazing to remember that Perrault was rather ashamed of his
"Histoires ou Contes du Temps Passé"—perhaps better known as "Les
Contes de ma Mère l'Oye," or "Mother Goose's Tales," from the rough print
which was inserted as a frontispiece to the first collected edition in 1697.
He would not even publish them in his own name. They were declared to be
by P. Darmancour, Perrault's young son. In order that the secret might be
well kept, Perrault abandoned his usual publisher, Coignard, and went to
Barbin. The stories had previously appeared from time to time,
anonymously, in Moetjens' little magazine the "Recueil," which was
published from The Hague. "La Belle au Bois Dormant" ("Sleeping
Beauty") was the first: and in rapid succession followed "Le Petit Chaperon
Rouge" ("Red Riding-Hood"), "Le Maistre Chat, ou le Chat Botté" ("Puss
in Boots"), "Les Fées" ("The Fairy"), "Cendrillon, ou la Petite Pantoufle de
Verre" ("Cinderella"), "Riquet à la Houppe" ("Riquet of the Tuft"), and "Le
Petit Poucet" ("Tom Thumb").
Perrault was not so shy in admitting the authorship of his three verse
stories—"Griselidis," "Les Souhaits Ridicules," and "Peau d'Asne." The
first appeared, anonymously it is true, in 1691; but, when it came to be
reprinted with "Les Souhaits Ridicules" and "Peau d'Asne" in 1695, they
were entrusted to the firm of Coignard and described as being by "Mr
Perrault, de l'Academie Françoise." La Fontaine had made a fashion of this
sort of exercise.
It would not be fair to assume that P. Darmancour had no connection
whatever with the composition of the stories which bore his name. The best
of Perrault's critics, Paul de St Victor and Andrew Lang among others, see
in the book a marvellous collaboration of crabbed age and youth. The boy,
probably, gathered the stories from his nurse and brought them to his father,
who touched them up, and toned them down, and wrote them out. Paul
Lacroix, in his fine edition of 1886, goes as far as to attribute the entire
authorship of the prose tales to Perrault's son. He deferred, however, to
universal usage when he entitled his volume "Les Contes en prose de
Charles Perrault."
"Les Contes du Temps Passé" had an immediate success. Imitators sprung
up at once by the dozen, and still persist; but none of them has ever
rivalled, much less surpassed, the inimitable originals. Every few years a

new and sumptuous edition appears in France. The best are probably those
by Paul Lacroix and André le Fèvre.
The stories soon crossed the Channel; and a translation "by Mr Samber,
printed for J. Pote" was advertised in the "Monthly Chronicle" of 1729. "Mr
Samber" was presumably one Robert Samber of New Inn, who translated
other tales from the French, for Edmond Curl the bookseller, about this
time. No copy of the first edition of his Perrault is known to exist. Yet it won
a wide popularity, as is shown by the fact that there was a seventh edition
published in 1795, for J. Rivington, a bookseller, of Pearl Street, New York.
No English translation of Perrault's fairy tales has attained unquestioned
literary pre-eminence. So the publishers of the present book have thought it
best to use Samber's translation, which has a special interest of its own in
being almost contemporary with the original. The text has been thoroughly
revised and corrected by Mr J. E. Mansion, who has purged it of many
errors without detracting from its old-fashioned quality. To Mr Mansion
also is due the credit for the translation of the "Les Souhaits Ridicules" and
for the adaptation of "Peau d'Asne." "Griselidis" is excluded from this book
for two good reasons; firstly, because it is an admitted borrowing by
Perrault from Boccaccio; secondly, because it is not a 'fairy' tale in the true
sense of the word.
It is, perhaps, unnecessary for me to add anything about Mr Clarke's
illustrations. Many of the readers of this book will be already familiar with
his work. Besides, I always feel that it is an impertinence to describe
pictures in their presence. Mr Clarke's speak for themselves. They speak for
Perrault too. It is seldom, indeed, that an illustrator enters so thoroughly
into the spirit of his text. The grace, delicacy, urbanity, tenderness, and
humour which went to the making of Perrault's stories must, it seems, have
also gone in somewhat similar proportions to the making of these delightful
drawings. I am sure that they would have given pleasure to Perrault
himself.
THOMAS
BODKIN

Little Red Riding-Hood

Little Red Riding-Hood
nce upon a time, there lived in a certain village, a little country girl, the
prettiest creature was ever seen. Her mother was excessively fond of
her; and her grand-mother doated on her much more. This good woman
got made for her a little red riding-hood; which became the girl so
extremely well, that every body called her Little Red Riding-Hood.
One day, her mother, having made some girdle-cakes, said to her:
"Go, my dear, and see how thy grand-mamma does, for I hear she has been
very ill, carry her a girdle-cake, and this little pot of butter."
Little Red Riding-Hood set out immediately to go to her grand-mother, who
lived in another village. As she was going thro' the wood, she met with
Gaffer Wolf, who had a very great mind to eat her up, but he durst not,
because of some faggot-makers hard by in the forest.
He asked her whither she was going. The poor child, who did not know that
it was dangerous to stay and hear a Wolf talk, said to him:
"I am going to see my grand-mamma, and carry her a girdle-cake, and a
little pot of butter, from my mamma."
"Does she live far off?" said the Wolf.
"Oh! ay," answered Little Red Riding-Hood, "it is beyond that mill you see
there, at the first house in the village."

"HE ASKED HER WHITHER SHE WAS GOING"
"Well," said the Wolf, "and I'll go and see her too: I'll go this way, and you
go that, and we shall see who will be there soonest."
The Wolf began to run as fast as he could, taking the nearest way; and the
little girl went by that farthest about, diverting herself in gathering nuts,

running after butterflies, and making nosegays of such little flowers as she
met with. The Wolf was not long before he got to the old woman's house: he
knocked at the door, tap, tap.
"Who's there?"
"Your grand-child, Little Red Riding-Hood," replied the Wolf,
counterfeiting her voice, "who has brought you a girdle-cake, and a little
pot of butter, sent you by mamma."
The good grand-mother, who was in bed, because she found herself
somewhat ill, cry'd out:
"Pull the peg, and the bolt will fall."
The Wolf pull'd the peg, and the door opened, and then presently he fell
upon the good woman, and ate her up in a moment; for it was above three
days that he had not touched a bit. He then shut the door, and went into the
grand-mother's bed, expecting Little Red Riding-Hood, who came some
time afterwards, and knock'd at the door, tap, tap.
"Who's there?"
Little Red Riding-Hood, hearing the big voice of the Wolf, was at first
afraid; but believing her grand-mother had got a cold, and was hoarse,
answered:
"'Tis your grand-child, Little Red Riding-Hood, who has brought you a
girdle-cake, and a little pot of butter, mamma sends you."
The Wolf cried out to her, softening his voice as much as he could, "Pull the
peg, and the bolt will fall."
Little Red Riding-Hood pulled the peg, and the door opened. The Wolf
seeing her come in, said to her, hiding himself under the bedclothes:
"Put the cake, and the little pot of butter upon the bread-bin, and come and
lye down with me."
Little Red Riding-Hood undressed herself, and went into bed; where, being
greatly amazed to see how her grand-mother looked in her night-cloaths,

she said to her:
"Grand-mamma, what great arms you have got!"
"That is the better to hug thee, my dear."
"Grand-mamma, what great legs you have got!"
"That is to run the better, my child."
"Grand-mamma, what great ears you have got!"
"That is to hear the better, my child."
"Grand-mamma, what great eyes you have got!"
"It is to see the better, my child."
"Grand-mamma, what great teeth you have got!"
"That is to eat thee up."
And, saying these words, this wicked Wolf fell upon poor Little Red
Riding-Hood, and ate her all up.

The Moral

From this short story easy we discern
What conduct all young people ought to learn.
But above all, young, growing misses fair,
Whose orient rosy blooms begin t'appear:
Who, beauties in the fragrant spring of age,
With pretty airs young hearts are apt t'engage.
Ill do they listen to all sorts of tongues,
Since some inchant and lure like Syrens' songs.
No wonder therefore 'tis, if over-power'd,
So many of them has the Wolf devour'd.
The Wolf, I say, for Wolves too sure there are

Of every sort, and every character.
Some of them mild and gentle-humour'd be,
Of noise and gall, and rancour wholly free;
Who tame, familiar, full of complaisance
Ogle and leer, languish, cajole and glance;
With luring tongues, and language wond'rous sweet,
Follow young ladies as they walk the street,
Ev'n to their very houses, nay, bedside,
And, artful, tho' their true designs they hide;
Yet ah! these simpering Wolves! Who does not see
Most dangerous of Wolves indeed they be?

The Fairy

"'WHAT IS THIS I SEE?' SAID HER MOTHER" (page
30)

The Fairy
here was, once upon a time, a widow, who had two daughters. The eldest
was so much like her in the face and humour, that whoever looked upon
the daughter saw the mother. They were both so disagreeable, and so
proud, that there was no living with them. The youngest, who was the very
picture of her father, for courtesy and sweetness of temper, was withal one
of the most beautiful girls ever seen. As people naturally love their own
likeness, this mother even doated on her eldest daughter, and at the same
time had a horrible aversion for the youngest. She made her eat in the
kitchen, and work continually.
Among other things, this poor child was forced twice a day to draw water
above a mile and a half off the house, and bring home a pitcher full of it.
One day, as she was at this fountain, there came to her a poor woman, who
begged of her to let her drink.
"O ay, with all my heart, Goody," said this pretty maid; and rinsing
immediately the pitcher, she took up some water from the clearest place of
the fountain, and gave it to her, holding up the pitcher all the while, that she
might drink the easier.
The good woman having drank, said to her:
"You are so very pretty, my dear, so good and so mannerly, that I cannot
help giving you a gift" (for this was a Fairy, who had taken the form of a
poor country-woman, to see how far the civility and good manners of this
pretty girl would go). "I will give you for gift," continued the Fairy, "that at
every word you speak, there shall come out of your mouth either a flower,
or a jewel."

"'AM I COME HITHER TO SERVE YOU WITH
WATER, PRAY?'"
When this pretty girl came home, her mother scolded at her for staying so
long at the fountain.
"I beg your pardon, mamma," said the poor girl, "for not making more
haste," and, in speaking these words, there came out of her mouth two

roses, two pearls, and two diamonds.
"What is this I see?" said her mother quite astonished, "I think I see pearls
and diamonds come out of the girl's mouth! How happens this, child?"
(This was the first time she ever called her child.)
The poor creature told her frankly all the matter, not without dropping out
infinite numbers of diamonds.
"In good faith," cried the mother, "I must send my child thither. Come
hither, Fanny, look what comes out of thy sister's mouth when she speaks!
Would'st not thou be glad, my dear, to have the same gift given to thee?
Thou hast nothing else to do but go and draw water out of the fountain, and
when a certain poor woman asks thee to let her drink, to give it her very
civilly."
"It would be a very fine sight indeed," said this ill-bred minx, "to see me go
draw water!"
"You shall go, hussey," said the mother, "and this minute."
So away she went, but grumbling all the way, taking with her the best silver
tankard in the house.
She was no sooner at the fountain, than she saw coming out of the wood a
lady most gloriously dressed, who came up to her, and asked to drink. This
was, you must know, the very Fairy who appeared to her sister, but had now
taken the air and dress of a princess, to see how far this girl's rudeness
would go.
"Am I come hither," said the proud, saucy slut, "to serve you with water,
pray? I suppose the silver tankard was brought purely for your ladyship,
was it? However, you may drink out of it, if you have a fancy."
"You are not over and above mannerly," answered the Fairy, without putting
herself in a passion. "Well then, since you have so little breeding, and are so
disobliging, I give you for gift, that at every word you speak there shall
come out of your mouth a snake or a toad."
So soon as her mother saw her coming, she cried out: "Well, daughter?"

"Well, mother?" answered the pert hussey, throwing out of her mouth two
vipers and two toads.
"O mercy!" cried the mother, "what is it I see! O, it is that wretch her sister
who has occasioned all this; but she shall pay for it"; and immediately she
ran to beat her. The poor child fled away from her and went to hide herself
in the forest, not far from thence.
The King's son, then on his return from hunting, met her, and seeing her so
very pretty, asked her what she did there alone, and why she cried.
"Alas! sir, my mamma has turned me out of doors."
The King's son, who saw five or six pearls, and as many diamonds, come
out of her mouth, desired her to tell him how that happened. She thereupon
told him the whole story; and so the King's son fell in love with her; and,
considering with himself that such a gift was worth more than any
marriage-portion whatsoever in another, conducted her to the palace of the
King his father, and there married her.
As for her sister, she made herself so much hated that her own mother
turned her off; and the miserable wretch, having wandered about a good
while without finding anybody to take her in, went to a corner in the wood
and there died.

The Moral

Money and jewels still, we find,
Stamp strong impressions on the mind.
But sweet discourse more potent riches yields;
Of higher value is the pow'r it wields.

Another

Civil behaviour costs indeed some pains,
Requires of complaisance some little share;
But soon or late its due reward it gains,
And meets it often when we're not aware.

Blue Beard

"'WHAT, IS NOT THE KEY OF MY CLOSET AMONG
THE REST?'" (page 40)

Blue Beard
here was a man who had fine houses, both in town and country, a deal of
silver and gold plate, embroidered furniture, and coaches gilded all over
with gold. But this man had the misfortune to have a blue beard, which
made him so frightfully ugly, that all the women and girls ran away from
him.
One of his neighbours, a lady of quality, had two daughters who were
perfect beauties. He desired of her one of them in marriage, leaving to her
the choice which of the two she would bestow upon him. They would
neither of them have him, and each made the other welcome of him, being
not able to bear the thought of marrying a man who had a blue beard. And
what besides gave them disgust and aversion, was his having already been
married to several wives, and nobody ever knew what became of them.
Blue Beard, to engage their affection, took them, with the lady their mother,
and three or four ladies of their acquaintance, with other young people of
the neighbourhood, to one of his country seats, where they stayed a whole
week. There was nothing then to be seen but parties of pleasure, hunting,
fishing, dancing, mirth and feasting. Nobody went to bed, but all passed the
night in playing tricks upon each other. In short, every thing succeeded so
well, that the youngest daughter began to think the master of the house not
to have a beard so very blue, and that he was a mighty civil gentleman. As
soon as they returned home, the marriage was concluded.

"THIS MAN HAD THE MISFORTUNE TO HAVE A
BLUE BEARD"
About a month afterwards Blue Beard told his wife that he was obliged to
take a country journey for six weeks at least, about affairs of very great
consequence, desiring her to divert herself in his absence, to send for her

friends and acquaintances, to carry them into the country, if she pleased,
and to make good cheer wherever she was.
"Here," said he, "are the keys of the two great wardrobes, wherein I have
my best furniture; these are of my silver and gold plate, which is not every
day in use; these open my strong boxes, which hold my money, both gold
and silver; these my caskets of jewels; and this is the master-key to all my
apartments. But for this little one here, it is the key of the closet at the end
of the great gallery on the ground floor. Open them all; go into all and every
one of them; except that little closet which I forbid you, and forbid it in
such a manner that, if you happen to open it, there will be no bounds to my
just anger and resentment."
She promised to observe, very exactly, whatever he had ordered; when he,
after having embraced her, got into his coach and proceeded on his journey.
Her neighbours and good friends did not stay to be sent for by the
newmarried lady, so great was their impatience to see all the rich furniture
of her house, not daring to come while her husband was there, because of
his blue beard which frightened them. They ran thro' all the rooms, closets,
and wardrobes, which were all so rich and fine, that they seemed to surpass
one another.
After that, they went up into the two great rooms, where were the best and
richest furniture; they could not sufficiently admire the number and beauty
of the tapestry, beds, couches, cabinets, stands, tables, and looking-glasses
in which you might see yourself from head to foot; some of them were
framed with glass, others with silver, plain and gilded, the finest and most
magnificent which were ever seen. They ceased not to extol and envy the
happiness of their friend, who in the mean time no way diverted herself in
looking upon all these rich things, because of the impatience she had to go
and open the closet of the ground floor. She was so much pressed by her
curiosity, that, without considering that it was very uncivil to leave her
company, she went down a little back-stair-case, and with such excessive
haste, that she had twice or thrice like to have broken her neck.
Being come to the closet door, she made a stop for some time, thinking
upon her husband's orders, and considering what unhappiness might attend
her if she was disobedient; but the temptation was so strong she could not

overcome it. She took then the little key, and opened it trembling; but could
not at first see any thing plainly, because the windows were shut. After
some moments she began to perceive that the floor was all covered over
with clotted blood, in which were reflected the bodies of several dead
women ranged against the walls: these were all the wives whom Blue Beard
had married and murdered one after another. She was like to have died for
fear, and the key, which she pulled out of the lock, fell out of her hand.

After having somewhat recovered her senses, she took up the key, locked
the door, and went up stairs into her chamber to recover herself; but she
could not, so much was she frightened. Having observed that the key of the
closet was stained with blood, she tried two or three times to wipe it off, but
the blood would not come off; in vain did she wash it, and even rub it with
soap and sand, the blood still remained, for the key was a Fairy, and she
could never make it quite clean; when the blood was gone off from one
side, it came again on the other.
Blue Beard returned from his journey the same evening, and said, he had
received letters upon the road, informing him that the affair he went about
was ended to his advantage. His wife did all she could to convince him she
was extremely glad of his speedy return. Next morning he asked her for the
keys, which she gave him, but with such a trembling hand, that he easily
guessed what had happened.
"What," said he, "is not the key of my closet among the rest?"
"I must certainly," answered she, "have left it above upon the table."
"Fail not," said Blue Beard, "to bring it me presently."
After putting him off several times, she was forced to bring him the key.
Blue Beard, having very attentively considered it, said to his wife:
"How comes this blood upon the key?"
"I do not know," cried the poor woman, paler than death.

"You do not know," replied Blue Beard; "I very well know, you were
resolved to go into the closet, were you not? Mighty well, Madam; you
shall go in, and take your place among the ladies you saw there."
Upon this she threw herself at her husband's feet, and begged his pardon
with all the signs of a true repentance for her disobedience. She would have
melted a rock, so beautiful and sorrowful was she; but Blue Beard had a
heart harder than any rock.
"You must die, Madam," said he, "and that presently."
"Since I must die," answered she, looking upon him with her eyes all bathed
in tears, "give me some little time to say my prayers."
"I give you," replied Blue Beard, "half a quarter of an hour, but not one
moment more."

When she was alone, she called out to her sister, and said to her:
"Sister Anne" (for that was her name), "go up I beg you, upon the top of the
tower, and look if my brothers are not coming; they promised me that they
would come to-day, and if you see them, give them a sign to make haste."
Her sister Anne went up upon the top of the tower, and the poor afflicted
wife cried out from time to time, "Anne, sister Anne, do you see any one
coming?"
And sister Anne said:
"I see nothing but the sun, which makes a dust, and the grass growing
green."
In the mean while Blue Beard, holding a great scimitar in his hand, cried
out as loud as he could bawl to his wife:
"Come down instantly, or I shall come up to you."

"One moment longer, if you please," said his wife, and then she cried out
very softly:
"Anne, sister Anne, dost thou see any body coming?"
And sister Anne answered:
"I see nothing but the sun, which makes a dust, and the grass growing
green."
"Come down quickly," cried Blue Beard, "or I will come up to you."
"I am coming," answered his wife; and then she cried:
"Anne, sister Anne, dost thou see any one coming?"
"I see," replied sister Anne, "a great dust that comes this way."
"Are they my brothers?"
"Alas! no, my dear sister, I see a flock of sheep."
"Will you not come down?" cried Blue Beard.
"One moment longer," said his wife, and then she cried out:
"Anne, sister Anne, dost thou see nobody coming?"
"I see," said she, "two horsemen coming, but they are yet a great way off."
"God be praised," she cried presently, "they are my brothers; I am
beckoning to them, as well as I can, for them to make haste."
Then Blue Beard bawled out so loud, that he made the whole house
tremble. The distressed wife came down, and threw herself at his feet, all in
tears, with her hair about her shoulders.
"Nought will avail," said Blue Beard, "you must die"; then, taking hold of
her hair with one hand, and lifting up his scimitar with the other, he was
going to take off her head.
The poor lady turning about to him, and looking at him with dying eyes,
desired him to afford her one little moment to recollect herself.

"No, no," said he, "recommend thyself to God," and was just ready to strike.
At this very instant there was such a loud knocking at the gate, that Blue
Beard made a sudden stop. The gate was opened, and presently entered two
horsemen, who drawing their swords, ran directly to Blue Beard. He knew
them to be his wife's brothers, one a dragoon, the other a musqueteer; so
that he ran away immediately to save himself; but the two brothers pursued
so close, that they overtook him before he could get to the steps of the
porch, when they ran their swords thro' his body and left him dead. The
poor wife was almost as dead as her husband, and had not strength enough
to rise and welcome her brothers.
Blue Beard had no heirs, and so his wife became mistress of all his estate.
She made use of one part of it to marry her sister Anne to a young
gentleman who had loved her a long while; another part to buy captains'
commissions for her brothers; and the rest to marry herself to a very worthy
gentleman, who made her forget the ill time she had passed with Blue
Beard.

The Moral

O curiosity, thou mortal bane!
Spite of thy charms, thou causest often pain
And sore regret, of which we daily find
A thousand instances attend mankind:
For thou—O may it not displease the fair—
A fleeting pleasure art, but lasting care.
And always proves, alas! too dear the prize,
Which, in the moment of possession, dies.

Another

A very little share of common sense,
And knowledge of the world, will soon evince
That this a story is of time long pass'd;
No husbands now such panic terrors cast;
Nor weakly, with a vain despotic hand,
Imperious, what's impossible, command:
And be they discontented, or the fire
Of wicked jealousy their hearts inspire,
They softly sing; and of whatever hue
Their beards may chance to be, or black, or blue,
Grizeld, or russet, it is hard to say
Which of the two, the man or wife, bears sway.

The Sleeping Beauty in the Wood

"AT THIS VERY INSTANT THE YOUNG FAIRY CAME
OUT FROM BEHIND THE HANGINGS" (page 50)

The Sleeping Beauty in the Wood
here were formerly a King and a Queen, who were so sorry that they had
no children, so sorry that it cannot be expressed. They went to all the
waters in the world; vows, pilgrimages, all ways were tried and all to no
purpose. At last, however, the Queen proved with child, and was brought to
bed of a daughter. There was a very fine christening; and the Princess had
for her godmothers all the Fairies they could find in the whole kingdom
(they found seven), that every one of them might give her a gift, as was the
custom of Fairies in those days, and that by this means the Princess might
have all the perfections imaginable.
After the ceremonies of the christening were over, all the company returned
to the King's palace, where was prepared a great feast for the Fairies. There
was placed before every one of them a magnificent cover with a case of
massive gold, wherein were a spoon, knife and fork, all of pure gold set
with diamonds and rubies. But as they were all sitting down at table, they
saw come into the hall a very old Fairy whom they had not invited, because
it was above fifty years since she had been out of a certain tower, and she
was believed to be either dead or inchanted. The King ordered her a cover,
but could not furnish her with a case of gold as the others, because they had
seven only made for the seven Fairies. The old Fairy fancied she was
slighted, and muttered some threat between her teeth. One of the young
Fairies, who sat by her, overheard how she grumbled; and judging that she
might give the little Princess some unlucky gift, went, as soon as they rose
from the table, and hid herself behind the hangings, that she might speak
last, and repair, as much as possible she could, the evil which the old Fairy
might intend.
In the mean while all the Fairies began to give their gifts to the Princess.
The youngest gave her for gift, that she should be the most beautiful person
in the world; the next, that she should have the wit of an angel; the third,
that she should have a wonderful grace in every thing she did; the fourth,
that she should dance perfectly well; the fifth, that she should sing like a

nightingale; and the sixth, that she should play upon all kinds of music to
the utmost perfection.
The old Fairy's turn coming next, with a head shaking more with spite than
age, she said, that the Princess should have her hand pierced with a spindle,
and die of the wound. This terrible gift made the whole company tremble,
and every body fell a-crying.
At this very instant the young Fairy came out from behind the hangings,
and spake these words aloud:
"Be reassured, O King and Queen; your daughter shall not die of this
disaster: it is true, I have no power to undo intirely what my elder has done.
The Princess shall indeed pierce her hand with a spindle; but instead of
dying, she shall only fall into a profound sleep, which shall last a hundred
years; at the expiration of which a king's son shall come and awake her."
The King, to avoid the misfortune foretold by the old Fairy, caused
immediately proclamations to be made, whereby every-body was forbidden,
on pain of death, to spin with a distaff and spindle or to have so much as
any spindle in their houses.
About fifteen or sixteen years after, the King and Queen being gone to one
of their houses of pleasure, the young Princess happened one day to divert
herself running up and down the palace; when going up from one apartment
to another, she came into a little room on the top of a tower, where a good
old woman, alone, was spinning with her spindle. This good woman had
never heard of the King's proclamation against spindles.
"What are you doing there, Goody?" said the Princess.
"I am spinning, my pretty child," said the old woman, who did not know
who she was.
"Ha!" said the Princess, "this is very pretty; how do you do it? Give it to
me, that I may see if I can do so." She had no sooner taken the spindle into
her hand, than, whether being very hasty at it, somewhat unhandy, or that
the decree of the Fairy had so ordained it, it ran into her hand, and she fell
down in a swoon.

The good old woman not knowing very well what to do in this affair, cried
out for help. People came in from every quarter in great numbers; they
threw water upon the Princess's face, unlaced her, struck her on the palms
of her hands, and rubbed her temples with Hungary-water; but nothing
would bring her to herself.
And now the King, who came up at the noise, bethought himself of the
prediction of the Fairies, and judging very well that this must necessarily
come to pass, since the Fairies had said it, caused the Princess to be carried
into the finest apartment in his palace, and to be laid upon a bed all
embroidered with gold and silver. One would have taken her for an angel,
she was so very beautiful; for her swooning away had not diminished one
bit of her complexion; her cheeks were carnation, and her lips like coral;
indeed her eyes were shut, but she was heard to breathe softly, which
satisfied those about her that she was not dead. The King commanded that
they should not disturb her, but let her sleep quietly till her hour of
awakening was come.
The good Fairy, who had saved her life by condemning her to sleep a
hundred years, was in the kingdom of Matakin, twelve thousand leagues
off, when this accident befell the Princess; but she was instantly informed
of it by a little dwarf, who had boots of seven leagues, that is, boots with
which he could tread over seven leagues of ground at one stride. The Fairy
came away immediately, and she arrived, about an hour after, in a fiery
chariot, drawn by dragons. The King handed her out of the chariot, and she
approved every thing he had done; but, as she had a very great foresight,
she thought, when the Princess should awake, she might not know what to
do with herself, being all alone in this old palace; and this was what she did:
She touched with her wand every thing in the palace (except the King and
the Queen), governesses, maids of honour, ladies of the bedchamber,
gentlemen, officers, stewards, cooks, under-cooks, scullions, guards, with
their beef-eaters, pages, footmen; she likewise touched all the horses which
were in the stables, as well as their grooms, the great dogs in the outward
court, and pretty little Mopsey too, the Princess's little spaniel-bitch, which
lay by her on the bed.
Immediately upon her touching them, they all fell asleep, that they might
not awake before their mistress, and that they might be ready to wait upon

her when she wanted them. The very spits at the fire, as full as they could
hold of partridges and pheasants, did fall asleep, and the fire likewise. All
this was done in a moment. Fairies are not long in doing their business.
And now the King and the Queen, having kissed their dear child without
waking her, went out of the palace, and put forth a proclamation, that
nobody should dare to come near it. This, however, was not necessary; for,
in a quarter of an hour's time, there grew up, all round about the park, such
a vast number of trees, great and small, bushes and brambles, twining one
within another, that neither man nor beast could pass thro'; so that nothing
could be seen but the very top of the towers of the palace; and that too, not
unless it was a good way off. Nobody doubted but the Fairy gave herein a
sample of her art, that the Princess, while she continued sleeping, might
have nothing to fear from any curious people.

"THE PRINCE ENQUIRES OF THE AGED
COUNTRYMAN"
When a hundred years were gone and past, the son of the King then
reigning, and who was of another family from that of the sleeping Princess,
being gone a-hunting on that side of the country, asked, what were those
towers which he saw in the middle of a great thick wood? Every one
answered according as they had heard; some said that it was a ruinous old

castle, haunted by spirits; others, that all the sorcerers and witches of the
country kept there their sabbath, or nights meeting. The common opinion
was that an Ogre[1] lived there, and that he carried thither all the little
children he could catch, that he might eat them up at his leisure, without
any-body's being able to follow him, as having himself, only, the power to
pass thro' the wood.
[1] Ogre is a giant, with long teeth and claws, with a raw head and bloody-
bones, who runs away with naughty little boys and girls, and eats them up. [Note
by the translator.]

The Prince was at a stand, not knowing what to believe, when a very aged
countryman spake to him thus: "May it please your Royal Highness, it is
now above fifty years since I heard my father, who had heard my
grandfather, say that there then was in this castle, a Princess, the most
beautiful was ever seen; that she must sleep there a hundred years, and
should be awaked by a king's son; for whom she was reserved." The young
Prince was all on fire at these words, believing, without a moment's doubt,
that he could put an end to this rare adventure; and pushed on by love and
honour resolved that moment to look into it.
Scarce had he advanced towards the wood, when all the great trees, the
bushes and brambles, gave way of themselves to let him pass thro'; he
walked up to the castle which he saw at the end of a large avenue which he
went into; and what a little surprised him was, that he saw none of his
people could follow him, because the trees closed again, as soon as he had
pass'd thro' them. However, he did not cease from continuing his way; a
young and amorous Prince is always valiant. He came into a spacious
outward court, where everything he saw might have frozen up the most
fearless person with horror. There reigned over all a most frightful silence;
the image of death everywhere shewed itself, and there was nothing to be
seen but stretched out bodies of men and animals, all seeming to be dead.
He, however, very well knew, by the ruby faces and pimpled noses of the
beef-eaters, that they were only asleep; and their goblets, wherein still
remained some drops of wine, shewed plainly, that they fell asleep in their
cups.
He then crossed a court paved with marble, went up the stairs, and came
into the guard-chamber, where the guards were standing in their ranks, with

their muskets upon their shoulders, and snoring as loud as they could. After
that he went through several rooms full of gentlemen and ladies, all asleep,
some standing, others sitting. At last he came into a chamber all gilded with
gold, where he saw, upon a bed, the curtains of which were all open, the
finest sight was ever beheld: a Princess, who appeared to be about fifteen or
sixteen years of age, and whose bright, and in a manner resplendent beauty,
had somewhat in it divine. He approached with trembling and admiration,
and fell down before her upon his knees.

"HE SAW, UPON A BED, THE FINEST SIGHT WAS
EVER BEHELD"
And now, as the inchantment was at an end, the Princess awaked, and
looking on him with eyes more tender than the first view might seem to
admit of: "Is it you, my Prince," said she to him, "you have tarried long."
The Prince, charmed with these words, and much more with the manner in
which they were spoken, knew not how to shew his joy and gratitude; he
assured her, that he loved her better than he did himself; his discourse was
not well connected, but it pleased her all the more; little eloquence, a great
deal of love. He was more at a loss than she, and we need not wonder at it;
she had time to think on what to say to him; for it is very probable (though
history mentions nothing of it) that the good Fairy, during so long a sleep,
had entertained her with pleasant dreams. In short, when they talked four
hours together, they said not half what they had to say.
In the mean while, all the palace awaked; every one thought upon their
particular business; and as all of them were not in love, they were ready to
die for hunger; the chief lady of honour, being as sharp set as other folks,
grew very impatient, and told the Princess aloud, That supper was served
up. The Prince helped the Princess to rise, she was entirely dressed, and
very magnificently, but his Royal Highness took care not to tell her that she
was dressed like his great grand-mother, and had a point-band peeping over
a high collar; she looked not a bit the less beautiful and charming for all
that.
They went into the great hall of looking-glasses, where they supped, and
were served by the Princess's officers; the violins and hautboys played old
tunes, but very excellent, tho' it was now above a hundred years since they
had been played; and after supper, without losing any time, the lord almoner
married them in the chapel of the castle, and the chief lady of honour drew
the curtains. They had but very little sleep; the Princess had no occasion,
and the Prince left her next morning to return into the city, where his father
must needs have been anxious on his account. The Prince told him that he
lost his way in the forest, as he was hunting, and that he had lain at the
cottage of a collier, who gave him cheese and brown bread.

The King his father, who was of an easy disposition, believed him; but his
mother could not be persuaded this was true; and seeing that he went almost
every day a-hunting, and that he always had some excuse ready when he
had laid out three or four nights together, she no longer doubted he had
some little amour, for he lived with the Princess above two whole years,
and had by her two children, the eldest of which, who was a daughter, was
named Aurora, and the youngest, who was a son, they called Day, because
he was even handsomer and more beautiful than his sister.
The Queen said more than once to her son, in order to bring him to speak
freely to her, that a young man must e'en take his pleasure; but he never
dared to trust her with his secret; he feared her, tho' he loved her; for she
was of the race of the Ogres, and the King would never have married her,
had it not been for her vast riches; it was even whispered about the court,
that she had Ogreish inclinations, and that, whenever she saw little children
passing by, she had all the difficulty in the world to refrain from falling
upon them. And so the Prince would never tell her one word.
But when the King was dead, which happened about two years afterwards;
and he saw himself lord and master, he openly declared his marriage; and
he went in great ceremony to fetch his Queen from the castle. They made a
magnificent entry into the capital city, she riding between her two children.
Some time after, the King went to make war with the Emperor Cantalabutte,
his neighbour. He left the government of the kingdom to the Queen his
mother, and earnestly recommended to her care his wife and children. He
was like to be at war all the summer, and as soon as he departed, the Queen-
mother sent her daughter-in-law and her children to a country-house among
the woods, that she might with the more ease gratify her horrible longing.

"'I WILL HAVE IT SO,' REPLIED THE QUEEN, 'AND
WILL EAT HER WITH A SAUCE ROBERT'"
Some few days afterwards she went thither herself, and said to her clerk of
the kitchen:
"I have a mind to eat little Aurora for my dinner to morrow."
"Ah! Madam," cried the clerk of the kitchen.

"I will have it so," replied the Queen (and this she spake in the tone of an
Ogress, who had a strong desire to eat fresh meat), "and will eat her with a
Sauce Robert."[2]
[2] This is a French sauce, made with onions shredded and boiled tender in
butter, to which is added vinegar, mustard, salt, pepper, and a little wine. [Note
by the translator.]

The poor man knowing very well that he must not play tricks with
Ogresses, took his great knife and went up into little Aurora's chamber. She
was then four years old, and came up to him jumping and laughing, to take
him about the neck, and ask him for some sugar-candy. Upon which he
began to weep, the great knife fell out of his hand, and he went into the
back-yard, and killed a little lamb, and dressed it with such good sauce, that
his mistress assured him she had never eaten anything so good in her life.
He had at the same time taken up little Aurora, and carried her to his wife,
to conceal her in the lodging he had at the end of the court yard.
About eight days afterwards, the wicked Queen said to the clerk of the
kitchen:
"I will sup upon little Day."
He answered not a word, being resolved to cheat her, as he had done before.
He went to find out little Day, and saw him with a little foil in his hand,
with which he was fencing with a great monkey; the child being then only
three years of age. He took him up in his arms, and carried him to his wife,
that she might conceal him in her chamber along with his sister, and in the
room of little Day cooked up a young kid very tender, which the Ogress
found to be wonderfully good.
This was hitherto all mighty well: but one evening this wicked Queen said
to her clerk of the kitchen:
"I will eat the Queen with the same sauce I had with her children."
It was now that the poor clerk of the kitchen despaired of being able to
deceive her. The young Queen was turned of twenty, not reckoning the
hundred years she had been asleep: her skin was somewhat tough, tho' very
fair and white; and how to find in the yard a beast so firm, was what
puzzled him. He took then a resolution, that he might save his own life, to

cut the Queen's throat; and going up into her chamber, with intent to do it at
once, he put himself into as great a fury as he could possibly, and came into
the young Queen's room with his dagger in his hand. He would not,
however, surprise her, but told her, with a great deal of respect, the orders
he had received from the Queen-mother.
"Do it, do it," said she stretching out her neck, "execute your orders, and
then I shall go and see my children, my poor children, whom I so much and
so tenderly loved," for she thought them dead ever since they had been
taken away without her knowledge.
"No, no, Madam," cried the poor clerk of the kitchen, all in tears, "you shall
not die, and yet you shall see your children again; but it must be in my
lodgings, where I have concealed them, and I shall deceive the Queen once
more, by giving her in your stead a young hind."
Upon this he forthwith conducted her to his chamber; where leaving her to
embrace her children, and cry along with them, he went and dressed a hind,
which the Queen had for her supper, and devoured it with the same appetite,
as if it had been the young Queen. Exceedingly was she delighted with her
cruelty, and she had invented a story to tell the King, at his return, how
ravenous wolves had eaten up the Queen his wife, and her two children.
One evening, as she was, according to her custom, rambling round about
the courts and yards of the palace, to see if she could smell any fresh meat,
she heard, in a ground-room little Day crying, for his mamma was going to
whip him, because he had been naughty; and she heard, at the same time,
little Aurora begging pardon for her brother.
The Ogress presently knew the voice of the Queen and her children, and
being quite mad that she had been thus deceived, she commanded next
morning, by break of day (with a most horrible voice, which made every
body tremble) that they should bring into the middle of the great court a
large tub, which she caused to be filled with toads, vipers, snakes, and all
sorts of serpents, in order to have thrown into it the Queen and her children,
the clerk of the kitchen, his wife and maid; all whom she had given orders
should be brought thither with their hands tied behind them.

They were brought out accordingly, and the executioners were just going to
throw them into the tub, when the King (who was not so soon expected)
entered the court on horse-back (for he came post) and asked, with the
utmost astonishment, what was the meaning of that horrible spectacle? No
one dared to tell him; when the Ogress, all inraged to see what had
happened, threw herself head-foremost into the tub, and was instantly
devoured by the ugly creatures she had ordered to be thrown into it for
others. The King could not but be very sorry, for she was his mother; but he
soon comforted himself with his beautiful wife, and his pretty children.

The Moral

To get as prize a husband rich and gay.
Of humour sweet, with many years to stay,
Is natural enough, 'tis true;
To wait for him a hundred years,
And all that while asleep, appears
A thing entirely new.
Now at this time of day,
Not one of all the sex we see
Doth sleep with such profound tranquillity:
But yet this Fable seems to let us know
That very often Hymen's blisses sweet,

Altho' some tedious obstacles they meet,
Are not less happy for approaching slow.
'Tis nature's way that ladies fair
Should yearn conjugal joys to share;
And so I've not the heart to preach
A moral that's beyond their reach.

The Master Cat; or, Puss in Boots

The Master Cat or Puss in Boots
here was a miller, who left no more estate to the three sons he had, than
his Mill, his Ass, and his Cat. The partition was soon made. Neither the
scrivener nor attorney were sent for. They would soon have eaten up all
the poor patrimony. The eldest had the Mill, the second the Ass, and the
youngest nothing but the Cat.
The poor young fellow was quite comfortless at having so poor a lot.
"My brothers," said he, "may get their living handsomely enough, by
joining their stocks together; but for my part, when I have eaten up my Cat,
and made me a muff of his skin, I must die with hunger."
The Cat, who heard all this, but made as if he did not, said to him with a
grave and serious air:
"Do not thus afflict yourself, my good master; you have only to give me a
bag, and get a pair of boots made for me, that I may scamper thro' the dirt
and the brambles, and you shall see that you have not so bad a portion of
me as you imagine."
Tho' the Cat's master did not build very much upon what he said, he had
however often seen him play a great many cunning tricks to catch rats and
mice; as when he used to hang by the heels, or hide himself in the meal, and
make as if he were dead; so that he did not altogether despair of his
affording him some help in his miserable condition.
When the Cat had what he asked for, he booted himself very gallantly; and
putting his bag about his neck, he held the strings of it in his two fore paws,
and went into a warren where was great abundance of rabbits. He put bran
and sow-thistle into his bag, and stretching himself out at length, as if he
had been dead, he waited for some young rabbit, not yet acquainted with the
deceits of the world, to come and rummage his bag for what he had put into
it.

Scarce was he lain down, but he had what he wanted; a rash and foolish
young rabbit jumped into his bag, and Monsieur Puss, immediately drawing
close the strings, took and killed him without pity. Proud of his prey, he
went with it to the palace, and asked to speak with his Majesty. He was
shewed up stairs into the King's apartment, and, making a low reverence,
said to him:
"I have brought you, sir, a rabbit of the warren which my noble lord the
Marquis of Carabas" (for that was the title which Puss was pleased to give
his master) "has commanded me to present to your Majesty from him."
"Tell thy master," said the King, "that I thank him, and that he does me a
great deal of pleasure."
Another time he went and hid himself among some standing corn, holding
still his bag open; and when a brace of partridges ran into it, he drew the
strings, and so caught them both. He went and made a present of these to
the King, as he had done before of the rabbit which he took in the warren.
The King in like manner received the partridges with great pleasure, and
ordered him some money to drink.
The Cat continued for two or three months, thus to carry his Majesty, from
time to time, game of his master's taking. One day in particular, when he
knew for certain that the King was to take the air, along the river side, with
his daughter, the most beautiful Princess in the world, he said to his master:
"If you will follow my advice, your fortune is made; you have nothing else
to do, but go and wash yourself in the river, in that part I shall shew you,
and leave the rest to me."
The Marquis of Carabas did what the Cat advised him to, without knowing
why or wherefore.
While he was washing, the King passed by, and the Cat began to cry out, as
loud as he could:
"Help, help, my lord Marquis of Carabas is drowning."
At this noise the King put his head out of his coach-window, and finding it
was the Cat who had so often brought him such good game, he commanded

his guards to run immediately to the assistance of his lordship the Marquis
of Carabas.
While they were drawing the poor Marquis out of the river, the Cat came up
to the coach, and told the King that while his master was washing, there
came by some rogues, who went off with his clothes, tho' he had cried out
"Thieves, thieves," several times, as loud as he could. This cunning Cat had
hidden them under a great stone. The King immediately commanded the
officers of his wardrobe to run and fetch one of his best suits for the lord
Marquis of Carabas.
The King received him with great kindness, and as the fine clothes he had
given him extremely set off his good mien (for he was well made, and very
handsome in his person), the King's daughter took a secret inclination to
him, and the Marquis of Carabas had no sooner cast two or three respectful
and somewhat tender glances, but she fell in love with him to distraction.
The King would needs have him come into his coach, and take part of the
airing. The Cat, quite overjoyed to see his project begin to succeed,
marched on before, and meeting with some countrymen, who were mowing
a meadow, he said to them:
"Good people, you who are mowing, if you do not tell the King, that the
meadow you mow belongs to my lord Marquis of Carabas, you shall be
chopped as small as mince-meat."
The King did not fail asking of the mowers, to whom the meadow they
were mowing belonged.
"To my lord Marquis of Carabas," answered they all together; for the Cat's
threats had made them terribly afraid.
"Truly a fine estate," said the King to the Marquis of Carabas.
"You see, sir," said the Marquis, "this is a meadow which never fails to
yield a plentiful harvest every year."
The Master Cat, who still went on before, met with some reapers, and said
to them:

"Good people, you who are reaping, if you do not tell the King that all this
corn belongs to the Marquis of Carabas, you shall be chopped as small as
mince-meat."
The King, who passed by a moment after, would needs know to whom all
that corn, which he then saw, did belong. "To my lord Marquis of Carabas,"
replied the reapers; and the King again congratulated the Marquis.
The Master Cat, who went always before, said the same words to all he
met; and the King was astonished at the vast estates of my lord Marquis of
Carabas.
Monsieur Puss came at last to a stately castle, the master of which was an
Ogre, the richest had ever been known; for all the lands which the King had
then gone over belonged to this castle. The Cat, who had taken care to
inform himself who this Ogre was, and what he could do, asked to speak
with him, saying, he could not pass so near his castle, without having the
honour of paying his respects to him.
The Ogre received him as civilly as an Ogre could do, and made him sit
down.
"I have been assured," said the Cat, "that you have the gift of being able to
change yourself into all sorts of creatures you have a mind to; you can, for
example, transform yourself into a lion, or elephant, and the like."
"This is true," answered the Ogre very briskly, "and to convince you, you
shall see me now become a lion."

"THE MARQUIS GAVE HIS HAND TO THE
PRINCESS, AND FOLLOWED THE KING, WHO
WENT UP FIRST"
Puss was so sadly terrified at the sight of a lion so near him, that he
immediately got into the gutter, not without abundance of trouble and
danger, because of his boots, which were ill-suited for walking upon the
tiles. A little while after, when Puss saw that the Ogre had resumed his
natural form, he came down, and owned he had been very much frightened.

"I have been moreover informed," said the Cat, "but I know not how to
believe it, that you have also the power to take on you the shape of the
smallest animals; for example, to change yourself into a rat or a mouse; but
I must own to you, I take this to be impossible."
"Impossible?" cried the Ogre, "you shall see that presently," and at the same
time changed into a mouse, and began to run about the floor.
Puss no sooner perceived this, but he fell upon him, and ate him up.
Meanwhile the King, who saw, as he passed, this fine castle of the Ogre's,
had a mind to go into it. Puss, who heard the noise of his Majesty's coach
running over the drawbridge, ran out and said to the King:
"Your Majesty is welcome to this castle of my lord Marquis of Carabas."
"What! my lord Marquis?" cried the King, "and does this castle also belong
to you? There can be nothing finer than this court, and all the stately
buildings which surround it; let us go into it, if you please."
The Marquis gave his hand to the Princess, and followed the King, who
went up first. They passed into a spacious hall, where they found a
magnificent collation which the Ogre had prepared for his friends, who
were that very day to visit him, but dared not to enter knowing the King
was there. His Majesty was perfectly charmed with the good qualities of my
lord Marquis of Carabas, as was his daughter who was fallen violently in
love with him; and seeing the vast estate he possessed, said to him, after
having drank five or six glasses:
"It will be owing to yourself only, my lord Marquis, if you are not my son-
in-law."
The Marquis making several low bows, accepted the honour which his
Majesty conferred upon him, and forthwith, that very same day, married the
Princess.
Puss became a great lord, and never ran after mice any more, but only for
his diversion.

The Moral

How advantageous it may be,
By long descent of pedigree,
T'enjoy a great estate,
Yet knowledge how to act, we see,
Join'd with consummate industry,
(Nor wonder ye thereat)
Doth often prove a greater boon,
As should be to young people known.

Another

If the son of a miller so soon gains the heart
Of a beautiful princess, and makes her impart
Sweet languishing glances, eyes melting for love,
It must be remark'd of fine clothes how they move,
And that youth, a good face, a good air, with good mien,
Are not always indifferent mediums to win
The love of the fair, and gently inspire

The flames of sweet passion, and tender desire.

Cinderilla; or, The Little Glass Slipper

"AWAY SHE DROVE, SCARCE ABLE TO CONTAIN
HERSELF FOR JOY" (page 84)

Cinderilla or The Little Glass Slipper
nce there was a gentleman who married, for his second wife, the
proudest and most haughty woman that was ever seen. She had, by a
former husband, two daughters of her own humour and they were
indeed exactly like her in all things. He had likewise, by another wife, a
young daughter, but of unparalleled goodness and sweetness of temper,
which she took from her mother, who was the best creature in the world.
No sooner were the ceremonies of the wedding over, but the stepmother
began to shew herself in her colours. She could not bear the good qualities
of this pretty girl; and the less, because they made her own daughters
appear the more odious. She employed her in the meanest work of the
house; she scoured the dishes, tables, &c. and rubbed Madam's chamber,
and those of Misses, her daughters; she lay up in a sorry garret, upon a
wretched straw-bed, while her sisters lay in fine rooms, with floors all
inlaid, upon beds of the very newest fashion, and where they had looking-
glasses so large, that they might see themselves at their full length, from
head to foot.
The poor girl bore all patiently, and dared not tell her father, who would
have rattled her off; for his wife governed him intirely. When she had done
her work, she used to go into the chimney-corner, and sit down among
cinders and ashes, which made her commonly be called Cinder-breech; but
the youngest, who was not so rude and uncivil as the eldest, called her
Cinderilla. However, Cinderilla, notwithstanding her mean apparel, was a
hundred times handsomer than her sisters, tho' they were always dressed
very richly.

"ANY ONE BUT CINDERILLA WOULD HAVE
DRESSED THEIR HEADS AWRY"
It happened that the King's son gave a ball, and invited all persons of
fashion to it. Our young misses were also invited; for they cut a very grand
figure among the quality. They were mightily delighted at this invitation,
and wonderfully busy in chusing out such gowns, petticoats, and head-
clothes as might best become them. This was a new trouble to Cinderilla;

for it was she who ironed her sisters' linen, and plaited their ruffles; they
talked all day long of nothing but how they should be dressed. "For my
part," said the eldest, "I will wear my red velvet suit, with French
trimming." "And I," said the youngest, "shall only have my usual petticoat;
but then, to make amends for that, I will put on my gold-flowered manteau,
and my diamond stomacher, which is far from being the most ordinary one
in the world." They sent for the best tire-woman they could get, to make up
their head-dresses, and adjust their double-pinners,[3] and they had their red
brushes, and patches from the fashionable maker.
[3] 'Pinners' were coifs with two long side-flaps pinned on. 'Double-pinners'—
with two side-flaps on each side—accurately translates the French cornettes à
deux rangs.

Cinderilla was likewise called up to them to be consulted in all these
matters, for she had excellent notions, and advised them always for the best,
nay and offered her service to dress their heads, which they were very
willing she should do. As she was doing this, they said to her:
"Cinderilla, would you not be glad to go to the ball?"
"Ah!" said she, "you only jeer at me; it is not for such as I am to go thither."
"Thou art in the right of it," replied they, "it would make the people laugh to
see a Cinder-breech at a ball."
Any one but Cinderilla would have dressed their heads awry, but she was
very good, and dressed them perfectly well. They were almost two days
without eating, so much they were transported with joy; they broke above a
dozen of laces in trying to be laced up close, that they might have a fine
slender shape, and they were continually at their looking-glass. At last the
happy day came; they went to Court, and Cinderilla followed them with her
eyes as long as she could, and when she had lost sight of them she fell a-
crying.
Her godmother, who saw her all in tears, asked her what was the matter.
"I wish I could——, I wish I could—;" she was not able to speak the rest,
being interrupted by her tears and sobbing.
This godmother of hers, who was a Fairy, said to her:

"Thou wishest thou couldest go to the ball, is it not so?"
"Y—es," cried Cinderilla, with a great sigh.
"Well," said her godmother, "be but a good girl, and I will contrive that thou
shalt go." Then she took her into her chamber, and said to her:
"Run into the garden, and bring me a pumpkin."
Cinderilla went immediately to gather the finest she could get, and brought
it to her godmother, not being able to imagine how this pumpkin could
make her go to the ball. Her godmother scooped out all the inside of it,
leaving nothing but the rind; which done, she struck it with her wand, and
the pumpkin was instantly turned into a fine coach, gilded all over with
gold.
She then went to look into her mouse-trap, where she found six mice all
alive, and ordered Cinderilla to lift up a little the trap-door, when giving
each mouse, as it went out, a little tap with her wand, the mouse was at that
moment turned into a fair horse, which altogether made a very fine set of
six horses of a beautiful mouse-coloured dapple-grey.
Being at a loss for a coachman, "I will go and see," says Cinderilla, "if there
be never a rat in the rat-trap, that we may make a coachman of him."
"Thou art in the right," replied her godmother; "go and look."
Cinderilla brought the trap to her, and in it there were three huge rats. The
Fairy made choice of one of the three, which had the largest beard, and,
having touched him with her wand, he was turned into a fat jolly coachman,
who had the smartest whiskers eyes ever beheld.
After that, she said to her:
"Go again into the garden, and you will find six lizards behind the watering
pot; bring them to me."
She had no sooner done so, but her godmother turned them into six
footmen, who skipped up immediately behind the coach, with their liveries
all bedaubed with gold and silver, and clung as close behind it, as if they
had done nothing else their whole lives. The Fairy then said to Cinderilla:

"Well, you see here an equipage fit to go to the ball with; are you not
pleased with it?"
"O yes," cried she, "but must I go thither as I am, in these poison nasty
rags?"
Her godmother only just touched her with her wand, and, at the same
instant, her clothes were turned into cloth of gold and silver, all beset with
jewels. This done she gave her a pair of glass-slippers,[4] the prettiest in the
whole world.
[4] In Perrault's tale: pantoufles de verre. There is no doubt that in the medieval
versions of this ancient tale Cinderilla was given pantoufles de vair—i.e., of a
grey, or grey and white, fur, the exact nature of which has been a matter of
controversy, but which was probably a grey squirrel. Long before the
seventeenth century the word vair had passed out of use, except as a heraldic
term, and had ceased to convey any meaning to the people. Thus the pantoufles
de vair of the fairy tale became, in the oral tradition, the homonymous pantoufles
de verre, or glass slippers, a delightful improvement on the earlier version.

Being thus decked out, she got up into her coach; but her godmother, above
all things, commanded her not to stay till after midnight, telling her, at the
same time, that if she stayed at the ball one moment longer, her coach
would be a pumpkin again, her horses mice, her coachman a rat, her
footmen lizards, and her clothes become just as they were before.
She promised her godmother, she would not fail of leaving the ball before
midnight; and then away she drove, scarce able to contain herself for joy.
The King's son, who was told that a great Princess, whom nobody knew,
was come, ran out to receive her; he gave her his hand as she alighted out of
the coach, and led her into the hall, among all the company. There was
immediately a profound silence, they left off dancing, and the violins
ceased to play, so attentive was every one to contemplate the singular
beauty of this unknown new comer. Nothing was then heard but a confused
noise of,
"Ha! how handsome she is! Ha! how handsome she is!"
The King himself, old as he was, could not help ogling her, and telling the
Queen softly, "that it was a long time since he had seen so beautiful and
lovely a creature." All the ladies were busied in considering her clothes and

head-dress, that they might have some made next day after the same
pattern, provided they could meet with such fine materials, and as able
hands to make them.
The King's son conducted her to the most honourable seat, and afterwards
took her out to dance with him: she danced so very gracefully, that they all
more and more admired her. A fine collation was served up, whereof the
young Prince ate not a morsel, so intently was he busied in gazing on her.
She went and sat down by her sisters, shewing them a thousand civilities,
giving them part of the oranges and citrons which the Prince had presented
her with; which very much surprised them, for they did not know her.
While Cinderilla was thus amusing her sisters, she heard the clock strike
eleven and three quarters, whereupon she immediately made a curtesy to
the company, and hasted away as fast as she could.
Being got home, she ran to seek out her godmother, and after having
thanked her, she said, "she could not but heartily wish she might go next
day to the ball, because the King's son had desired her." As she was eagerly
telling her godmother whatever had passed at the ball, her two sisters
knocked at the door which Cinderilla ran and opened.
"How long you have stayed," cried she, gaping, rubbing her eyes, and
stretching herself as if she had been just awaked out of her sleep; she had
not, however, any manner of inclination to sleep since they went from
home.
"If thou hadst been at the ball," said one of her sisters, "thou wouldst not
have been tired with it; there came thither the finest Princess, the most
beautiful ever was seen with mortal eyes; she shewed us a thousand
civilities, and gave us oranges and citrons." Cinderilla was transported with
joy; she asked them the name of that Princess; but they told her they did not
know it; and that the King's son was very anxious to learn it, and would
give all the world to know who she was. At this Cinderilla, smiling, replied:
"She must then be very beautiful indeed; Lord! how happy have you been;
could not I see her? Ah! dear Miss Charlotte, do lend me your yellow suit of
cloaths which you wear every day!"

"Ay, to be sure!" cried Miss Charlotte, "lend my cloaths to such a dirty
Cinder-breech as thou art; who's the fool then?"
Cinderilla, indeed, expected some such answer, and was very glad of the
refusal; for she would have been sadly put to it, if her sister had lent her
what she asked for jestingly.
The next day the two sisters were at the ball, and so was Cinderilla, but
dressed more magnificently than before. The King's son was always by her,
and never ceased his compliments and amorous speeches to her; to whom
all this was so far from being tiresome, that she quite forgot what her
godmother had recommended to her, so that she, at last, counted the clock
striking twelve, when she took it to be no more than eleven; she then rose
up, and fled as nimble as a deer.
The Prince followed, but could not overtake her. She left behind one of her
glass slippers, which the Prince took up most carefully. She got home, but
quite out of breath, without coach or footmen, and in her nasty old cloaths,
having nothing left her of all her finery, but one of the little slippers, fellow
to that she dropped. The guards at the palace gate were asked if they had not
seen a Princess go out; who said, they had seen nobody go out, but a young
girl, very meanly dressed, and who had more the air of a poor country
wench, than a gentle-woman.

"SHE LEFT BEHIND ONE OF HER GLASS SLIPPERS,
WHICH THE PRINCE TOOK UP MOST CAREFULLY"
When the two sisters returned from the ball, Cinderilla asked them if they
had been well diverted, and if the fine lady had been there. They told her,
Yes, but that she hurried away immediately when it struck twelve, and with
so much haste, that she dropped one of her little glass slippers, the prettiest
in the world, and which the King's son had taken up; that he had done
nothing but look at it during all the latter part of the ball, and that most

certainly he was very much in love with the beautiful person who owned
the little slipper.
What they said was very true; for a few days after, the King's son caused it
to be proclaimed by sound of trumpet, that he would marry her whose foot
this slipper would just fit. They whom he employed began to try it on upon
the Princesses, then the duchesses, and all the Court, but in vain. It was
brought to the two sisters, who did all they possibly could to thrust their feet
into the slipper, but they could not effect it.
Cinderilla, who saw all this, and knew her slipper, said to them laughing:
"Let me see if it will not fit me?"
Her sisters burst out a-laughing, and began to banter her. The gentleman
who was sent to try the slipper, looked earnestly at Cinderilla, and finding
her very handsome, said it was but just that she should try, and that he had
orders to let every one make tryal. He invited Cinderilla to sit down, and
putting the slipper to her foot, he found it went on very easily, and fitted
her, as if it had been made of wax. The astonishment her two sisters were in
was excessively great, but still abundantly greater, when Cinderilla pulled
out of her pocket the other slipper, and put it on her foot. Thereupon, in
came her godmother, who having touched, with her wand, Cinderilla's
cloaths, made them richer and more magnificent than any of those she had
before.
And now her two sisters found her to be that fine beautiful lady whom they
had seen at the ball. They threw themselves at her feet, to beg pardon for all
the ill treatment they had made her undergo. Cinderilla took them up, and as
she embraced them, cried that she forgave them with all her heart, and
desired them always to love her.
She was conducted to the young Prince, dressed as she was; he thought her
more charming than ever, and, a few days after, married her.
Cinderilla, who was no less good than beautiful, gave her two sisters
lodgings in the palace, and that very same day matched them with two great
lords of the court.

The Moral

Beauty's to the sex a treasure,
Still admir'd beyond all measure,
And never yet was any known,
By still admiring, weary grown.
But that rare quality call'd grace,
Exceeds, by far, a handsome face;
Its lasting charms surpass the other,
And this rich gift her kind godmother
Bestow'd on Cinderilla fair,
Whom she instructed with such care.
She gave to her such graceful mien,
That she, thereby, became a queen.
For thus (may ever truth prevail)
We draw our moral from this tale.
This quality, fair ladies, know
Prevails much more (you'll find it so)
T'ingage and captivate a heart,
Than a fine head dress'd up with art.
The fairies' gift of greatest worth
Is grace of bearing, not high birth;
Without this gift we'll miss the prize;
Possession gives us wings to rise.

Another

A great advantage 'tis, no doubt, to man,
To have wit, courage, birth, good sense, and brain,
And other such-like qualities, which we
Receiv'd from heaven's kind hand, and destiny.
But none of these rich graces from above,
To your advancement in the world will prove
If godmothers and sires you disobey,
Or 'gainst their strict advice too long you stay.

Riquet with the Tuft

Riquet with the Tuft
here was, once upon a time, a Queen, who was brought to bed of a son,
so hideously ugly, that it was long disputed, whether he had human
form. A Fairy, who was at his birth, affirmed, he would be very lovable
for all that, since he should be indowed with abundance of wit. She even
added, that it would be in his power, by virtue of a gift she had just then
given him, to bestow on the person he most loved as much wit as he
pleased. All this somewhat comforted the poor Queen, who was under a
grievous affliction for having brought into the world such an ugly brat. It is
true, that this child no sooner began to prattle, but he said a thousand pretty
things, and that in all his actions there was something so taking, that he
charmed every-body. I forgot to tell you, that he came into the world with a
little tuft of hair upon his head, which made them call him Riquet with the
Tuft, for Riquet was the family name.
Seven or eight years after this, the Queen of a neighbouring kingdom was
delivered of two daughters at a birth. The first-born of these was beautiful
beyond compare, whereat the Queen was so very glad, that those present
were afraid that her excess of joy would do her harm. The same Fairy, who
had assisted at the birth of little Riquet with the Tuft, was here also; and, to
moderate the Queen's gladness, she declared, that this little Princess should
have no wit at all, but be as stupid as she was pretty. This mortified the
Queen extreamly, but some moments afterwards she had far greater sorrow;
for, the second daughter she was delivered of, was very ugly.
"Do not afflict yourself so much, Madam," said the Fairy; "your daughter
shall have so great a portion of wit, that her want of beauty will scarcely be
perceived."
"God grant it," replied the Queen; "but is there no way to make the eldest,
who is so pretty, have some little wit?"
"I can do nothing for her, Madam, as to wit," answered the Fairy, "but
everything as to beauty; and as there is nothing but what I would do for

your satisfaction, I give her for gift, that she shall have the power to make
handsome the person who shall best please her."
As these Princesses grew up, their perfections grew up with them; all the
public talk was of the beauty of the eldest, and the wit of the youngest. It is
true also that their defects increased considerably with their age; the
youngest visibly grew uglier and uglier, and the eldest became every day
more and more stupid; she either made no answer at all to what was asked
her, or said something very silly; she was with all this so unhandy, that she
could not place four pieces of china upon the mantlepiece, without breaking
one of them, nor drink a glass of water without spilling half of it upon her
cloaths. Tho' beauty is a very great advantage in young people, yet here the
youngest sister bore away the bell, almost always, in all companies from the
eldest; people would indeed, go first to the Beauty to look upon, and admire
her, but turn aside soon after to the Wit, to hear a thousand most
entertaining and agreeable turns, and it was amazing to see, in less than a
quarter of an hour's time, the eldest with not a soul with her and the whole
company crowding about the youngest. The eldest, tho' she was
unaccountably dull, could not but notice it, and would have given all her
beauty to have half the wit of her sister. The Queen, prudent as she was,
could not help reproaching her several times, which had like to have made
this poor Princess die for grief.
One day, as she retired into the wood to bewail her misfortune, she saw,
coming to her, a little man, very disagreeable, but most magnificently
dressed. This was the young Prince Riquet with the Tuft, who having fallen
in love with her, by seeing her picture, many of which went all the world
over, had left his father's kingdom, to have the pleasure of seeing and
talking with her.
Overjoyed to find her thus all alone, he addressed himself to her with all
imaginable politeness and respect. Having observed, after he had made her
the ordinary compliments, that she was extremely melancholy, he said to
her:
"I cannot comprehend, Madam, how a person so beautiful as you are, can
be so sorrowful as you seem to be; for tho' I can boast of having seen

infinite numbers of ladies exquisitely charming, I can say that I never
beheld any one whose beauty approaches yours."
"You are pleased to say so," answered the Princess, and here she stopped.
"Beauty," replied Riquet with the Tuft, "is such a great advantage, that it
ought to take the place of all things; and since you possess this treasure, I
see nothing that can possibly very much afflict you."
"I had far rather," cried the Princess, "be as ugly as you are, and have wit,
than have the beauty I possess, and be so stupid as I am."
"There is nothing, Madam," returned he, "shews more that we have wit,
than to believe we have none; and it is the nature of that excellent quality,
that the more people have of it, the more they believe they want it."
"I do not know that," said the Princess; "but I know, very well, that I am
very senseless, and thence proceeds the vexation which almost kills me."
"If that be all, Madam, which troubles you, I can very easily put an end to
your affliction."
"And how will you do that?" cried the Princess.
"I have the power, Madam," replied Riquet with the Tuft, "to give to that
person whom I shall love best, as much wit as can be had; and as you,
Madam, are that very person, it will be your fault only, if you have not as
great a share of it as any one living, provided you will be pleased to marry
me."
The Princess remained quite astonished, and answered not a word.

"THE PRINCE BELIEVED HE HAD GIVEN HER
MORE WIT THAN HE HAD RESERVED FOR
HIMSELF"
"I see," replied Riquet with the Tuft, "that this proposal makes you very
uneasy, and I do not wonder at it, but I will give you a whole year to
consider of it."

The Princess had so little wit, and, at the same time, so great a longing to
have some, that she imagined the end of that year would never be; therefore
she accepted the proposal which was made her. She had no sooner promised
Riquet with the Tuft that she would marry him on that day twelvemonth,
than she found herself quite otherwise than she was before; she had an
incredible facility of speaking whatever she pleased, after a polite, easy, and
natural manner; she began that moment a very gallant conversation with
Riquet with the Tuft, wherein she tattled at such a rate, that Riquet with the
Tuft believed he had given her more wit than he had reserved for himself.
When she returned to the palace, the whole Court knew not what to think of
such a sudden and extraordinary change; for they heard from her now as
much sensible discourse, and as many infinitely witty turns, as they had
stupid and silly impertinences before. The whole Court was overjoyed at it
beyond imagination; it pleased all but her younger sister; because having no
longer the advantage of her in respect of wit, she appeared, in comparison
of her, a very disagreeable, homely puss. The King governed himself by her
advice, and would even sometimes hold a council in her apartment. The
noise of this change spreading every where, all the young Princes of the
neighbouring kingdoms strove all they could to gain her favour, and almost
all of them asked her in marriage; but she found not one of them had wit
enough for her, and she gave them all a hearing, but would not engage
herself to any.
However, there came one so powerful, rich, witty and handsome, that she
could not help having a good inclination for him. Her father perceived it,
and told her that she was her own mistress as to the choice of a husband,
and that she might declare her intentions. As the more wit we have, the
greater difficulty we find to make a firm resolution upon such affairs, this
made her desire her father, after having thanked him, to give her time to
consider of it.
She went accidentally to walk in the same wood where she met Riquet with
the Tuft, to think, the more conveniently, what she ought to do. While she
was walking in a profound meditation, she heard a confused noise under her
feet, as it were of a great many people who went backwards and forwards,
and were very busy. Having listened more attentively, she heard one say:

"Bring me that pot"; another "Give me that kettle"; and a third, "Put some
wood upon the fire."
The ground at the same time opened, and she seemingly saw under her feet,
a great kitchen full of cooks, scullions, and all sorts of servants necessary
for a magnificent entertainment. There came out of it a company of roasters,
to the number of twenty, or thirty, who went to plant themselves in a fine
alley of wood, about a very long table, with their larding pins in their hands,
and skewers in their caps, who began to work, keeping time, to the tune of a
very harmonious song.
The Princess, all astonished at this sight, asked them who they worked for.
"For Prince Riquet with the Tuft," said the chief of them, "who is to be
married to-morrow."
The Princess was more surprised than ever, and recollecting that it was now
that day twelvemonth on which she had promised to marry Riquet with the
Tuft, she was like to sink into the ground.
What made her forget this was that, when she made this promise, she was
very silly, and having obtained that vast stock of wit which the Prince had
bestowed on her, she had intirely forgot her stupidity. She continued
walking, but had not taken thirty steps before Riquet with the Tuft presented
himself to her, bravely and most magnificently dressed, like a Prince who
was going to be married.
"You see, Madam," said he, "I am very exact in keeping my word, and
doubt not, in the least, but you are come hither to perform yours, and to
make me, by giving me your hand, the happiest of men."
"I shall freely own to you," answered the Princess, "that I have not yet taken
any resolution on this affair, and believe I never shall take such a one as you
desire."
"You astonish me, Madam," said Riquet with the Tuft.
"I believe it," said the Princess, "and surely if I had to do with a clown, or a
man of no wit, I should find myself very much at a loss. 'A Princess always
observes her word,' would he say to me, 'and you must marry me, since you

promised to do so.' But as he whom I talk to is the man of the world who is
master of the greatest sense and judgment, I am sure he will hear reason.
You know, that when I was but a fool, I could, notwithstanding, never come
to a resolution to marry you; why will you have me, now I have so much
judgment as you gave me, and which makes me a more difficult person than
I was at that time, to come to such a resolution, which I could not then
determine to agree to? If you sincerely thought to make me your wife, you
have been greatly in the wrong to deprive me of my dull simplicity, and
make me see things much more clearly than I did."

"RIQUET WITH THE TUFT APPEARED TO HER THE
FINEST PRINCE UPON EARTH"
"If a man of no wit and sense," replied Riquet with the Tuft, "would be
entitled, as you say, to reproach you for breach of your word, why will you
not let me, Madam, do likewise in a matter wherein all the happiness of my
life is concerned? Is it reasonable that persons of wit and sense should be in

a worse condition than those who have none? Can you pretend this; you
who have so great a share, and desired so earnestly to have it? But let us
come to fact, if you please. Setting aside my ugliness and deformity, is there
any thing in me which displeases you? Are you dissatisfied with my birth,
my wit, humour, or manners?"
"Not at all," answered the Princess; "I love you and respect you in all that
you mention." "If it be so," said Riquet with the Tuft, "I am like to be
happy, since it is in your power to make me the most lovable of men."
"How can that be?" said the Princess.
"It will come about," said Riquet with the Tuft; "if you love me enough to
wish it to be so; and that you may no ways doubt, Madam, of what I say,
know that the same Fairy, who, on my birth-day, gave me for gift the power
of making the person who should please me extremely witty and judicious,
has, in like manner, given you for gift the power of making him, whom you
love, and would grant that favour to, extremely handsome."
"If it be so," said the Princess, "I wish, with all my heart, that you may be
the most lovable Prince in the world, and I bestow it on you, as much as I
am able."
The Princess had no sooner pronounced these words, but Riquet with the
Tuft appeared to her the finest Prince upon earth; the handsomest and most
amiable man she ever saw. Some affirm that it was not the enchantments of
the Fairy which worked this change, but that love alone caused the
metamorphosis. They say, that the Princess, having made due reflection on
the perseverance of her lover, his discretion, and all the good qualities of his
mind, his wit and judgment, saw no longer the deformity of his body, nor
the ugliness of his face; that his hump seemed to her no more than the
homely air of one who has a broad back; and that whereas till then she saw
him limp horribly, she found it nothing more than a certain sidling air,
which charmed her. They say farther, that his eyes, which were very
squinting, seemed to her all the more bright and sparkling; that their
irregularity passed in her judgment for a mark of a violent excess of love;
and, in short, that his great red nose had, in her opinion, somewhat of the
martial and heroic.

Howsoever it was, the Princess promised immediately to marry him, on
condition he obtained her father's consent. The King being acquainted that
his daughter had abundance of esteem for Riquet with the Tuft, whom he
knew otherwise for a most sage and judicious Prince, received him for his
son-in-law with pleasure; and the next morning their nuptials were
celebrated, as Riquet with the Tuft had foreseen, and according to the orders
he had a long time before given.

The Moral

What in this little Tale we find,
Is less a fable than real truth.
In those we love appear rare gifts of mind,
And body too: wit, judgment, beauty, youth.

Another

A countenance whereon, by natures hand,
Beauty is trac'd, also the lively stain
Of such complexion art can ne'er attain,
With all these gifts hath not so much command

On hearts, as hath one secret charm alone.
Love finds that out, to all besides unknown.

Little Thumb

"LITTLE THUMB WAS AS GOOD AS HIS WORD, AND
RETURNED THAT SAME NIGHT WITH THE NEWS"
(page 123)

Little Thumb
here was, once upon a time, a man and his wife, faggot-makers by trade,
who had seven children, all boys. The eldest was but ten years old, and
the youngest only seven. One might wonder how that the faggot-maker
could have so many children in so little a time; but it was because his wife
went nimbly about her business and never brought fewer than two at a birth.
They were very poor, and their seven children incommoded them greatly,
because not one of them was able to earn his bread. That which gave them
yet more uneasiness was, that the youngest was of a very puny constitution,
and scarce ever spake a word, which made them take that for stupidity
which was a sign of good sense. He was very little, and, when born, no
bigger than one's thumb; which made him be called Little Thumb.
The poor child bore the blame of whatsoever was done amiss in the house,
and guilty or not was always in the wrong; he was, notwithstanding, more
cunning and had a far greater share of wisdom than all his brothers put
together, and if he spake little he heard and thought the more.
There happened now to come a very bad year, and the famine was so great,
that these poor people resolved to rid themselves of their children. One
evening, when they were all in bed and the faggot-maker was sitting with
his wife at the fire, he said to her, with his heart ready to burst with grief:

"HE BROUGHT THEM HOME BY THE VERY SAME
WAY THEY CAME"
"Thou see'st plainly that we are not able to keep our children, and I cannot
see them starve to death before my face; I am resolved to lose them in the
wood to-morrow, which may very easily be done; for while they are busy in
tying up the faggots, we may run away, and leave them, without their taking
any notice."

"Ah!" cried out his wife, "and can'st thou thyself have the heart to take thy
children out along with thee on purpose to lose them?"
In vain did her husband represent to her their extreme poverty; she would
not consent to it; she was, indeed poor, but she was their mother. However,
having considered what a grief it would be to her to see them perish with
hunger, she at last consented and went to bed all in tears.
Little Thumb heard every word that had been spoken; for observing, as he
lay in his bed, that they were talking very busily, he had got up softly and
hid himself under his father's stool, that he might hear what they said,
without being seen. He went to bed again, but did not sleep a wink all the
rest of the night, thinking on what he ought to do. He got up early in the
morning, and went to the river side, where he filled his pockets full of small
white pebbles, and then returned home. They all went abroad, but Little
Thumb never told his brothers one syllable of what he knew. They went into
a very thick forest, where they could not see one another at ten paces
distance. The faggot-maker began to cut wood, and the children to gather up
sticks to make faggots. Their father and mother seeing them busy at their
work, got from them by degrees, and then ran away from them all at once,
along a by-way, thro' the winding bushes.
When the children saw they were left alone, they began to cry as loud as
they could. Little Thumb let them cry on, knowing very well how to go
home again; for as he came he had taken care to drop all along the way the
little white pebbles he had in his pockets. Then said he to them:
"Be not afraid, brothers, father and mother have left us here, but I will lead
you home again, only follow me." They did so, and he brought them home
by the very same way they came into the forest. They dared not to go in, but
sat themselves down at the door, listening to what their father and mother
were saying.
The very moment the faggot-maker and his wife were got home, the lord of
the manor sent them ten crowns, which he had owed them a long while, and
which they never expected. This gave them new life; for the poor people
were almost famished. The faggot-maker sent his wife immediately to the
butcher's. As it was a long while since they had eaten a bit, she bought

thrice as much meat as would sup two people. Having filled their bellies,
the woman said:
"Alas! where are now our poor children? They would make a good feast of
what we have left here; but then it was you, William, who had a mind to
lose them; I told you we should repent of it: what are they now doing in the
forest? Alas! dear God, the wolves have, perhaps, already eaten them up:
thou art very inhuman thus to have lost thy children."
The faggot-maker grew at last quite out of patience, for she repeated this
above twenty times, that they should repent of it, and she was in the right of
it for so saying. He threatened to beat her, if she did not hold her tongue. It
was not that the faggot-maker was not, perhaps, more vexed than his wife,
but that she teized him, and that he was of the humour of a great many
others, who love wives who speak right, but think those very importunate
who are always in the right. She was half drowned in tears, crying out:
"Alas! where are now my children, my poor children?"
She spake this so very loud, that the children who were at the door, began to
cry out all together:
"Here we are, here we are."
She ran immediately to open the door, and said, hugging them:
"I am glad to see you, my dear children; you are very hungry and weary;
and my poor Peter, thou art horribly bemired; come in and let me clean
thee."
Now, you must know, that Peter was her eldest son, whom she loved above
all the rest, because he was somewhat carrotty, as she herself was. They sat
down to supper, and ate with such a good appetite as pleased both father
and mother, whom they acquainted how frightened they were in the forest;
speaking almost always all together. The good folks were extremely glad to
see their children once more at home, and this joy continued while the ten
crowns lasted; but when the money was all gone, they fell again into their
former uneasiness, and resolved to lose them again; and, that they might be
the surer of doing it, to carry them at a much greater distance than before.
They could not talk of this so secretly, but they were overheard by Little

Thumb, who made account to get out of this difficulty as well as the former;
but though he got up betimes in the morning, to go and pick up some little
pebbles, he was disappointed; for he found the house-door double-locked,
and was at a stand what to do. When their father had given each of them a
piece of bread for their breakfast, he fancied he might make use of this
bread instead of the pebbles, by throwing it in little bits all along the way
they should pass; and so he put it up into his pocket.
Their father and mother brought them into the thickest and most obscure
part of the forest; when, stealing away into a by-path, they there left them.
Little Thumb was not very uneasy at it; for he thought he could easily find
the way again, by means of his bread which he had scattered all along as he
came. But he was very much surprised when he could not find so much as
one crumb; the birds had come and eaten it up every bit. They were now in
great affliction, for the farther they went, the more they were out of their
way, and were more and more bewildered in the forest.
Night now came on, and there arose a terrible high wind, which made them
dreadfully afraid. They fancied they heard on every side of them the
houling of wolves coming to eat them up; they scarce dared to speak, or
turn their heads. After this, it rained very hard, which wet them to the skin;
their feet slipped at every step they took, and they fell into the mire, whence
they got up in a very dirty pickle; their hands were in a sorry state.
Little Thumb climbed up to the top of a tree, to see if he could discover any
thing; and having turned his head about on every side, he saw at last a
glimmering light, like that of a candle, but a long way from the forest. He
came down, and, when upon the ground, he could see it no more, which
grieved him sadly. However, having walked for some time with his brothers
towards that side on which he had seen the light, he perceived it again as he
came out of the wood.
They came at last to the house where this candle was, not without
abundance of fear; for very often they lost sight of it, which happened every
time they came into a bottom. They knocked at the door, and a good woman
came and open'd it; she asked them what they wished.
Little Thumb told her they were poor children who had been lost in the
forest, and desired to lodge there for God's sake. The woman seeing them so

very pretty, began to weep, and said to them:
"Alas! poor babies, whither are ye come? Do ye know that this house
belongs to a cruel Ogre, who eats up little children?"
"Ah! dear Madam," answered Little Thumb (who trembled every joint of
him, as well as his brothers) "what shall we do? To be sure, the wolves of
the forest will devour us to-night, if you refuse us to lie here; and so, we
would rather the gentleman should eat us. Perhaps he will take pity on us,
especially if you please to beg it of him."
The Ogre's wife, who believed she could conceal them from her husband till
morning, let them come in, and brought them to warm themselves at a very
good fire; for there was a whole sheep upon the spit roasting for the Ogre's
supper.
As they began to be a little warm, they heard three or four great raps at the
door; this was the Ogre, who was come home. Upon this she hid them
under the bed, and went to open the door. The Ogre presently asked if
supper was ready, and the wine drawn; and then he sat himself down to
table. The sheep was as yet all raw and bloody; but he liked it the better for
that. He sniffed about to the right and left, saying, "I smell fresh meat."
"What you smell so," said his wife, "must be the calf which I have just now
killed and flayed."
"I smell fresh meat, I tell thee once more," replied the Ogre, looking crossly
at his wife, "and there is something here which I do not understand."
As he spake these words, he got up from the table, and went directly to the
bed.
"Ah!" said he, "I see how thou would'st cheat me, thou cursed woman; I
know not why I do not eat up thee too; but it is well for thee that thou art a
tough old carrion. Here is good game, which comes very luckily to entertain
three Ogres of my acquaintance, who are to pay me a visit in a day or two."
With that he dragged them out from under the bed one by one. The poor
children fell upon their knees, and begged his pardon; but they had to do
with one of the most cruel Ogres in the world, who, far from having any

pity on them, had already devoured them with his eyes; he told his wife
they would be delicate eating, when tossed up with good savoury sauce. He
then took a great knife, and coming up to these poor children, whetted it
upon a great whet-stone which he held in his left hand. He had already
taken hold of one of them, when his wife said to him:
"What need you do it now? It is time enough to-morrow?"
"Hold your prattling," said the Ogre, "they will eat the tenderer."
"But you have so much meat already," replied his wife, "you have no
occasion. Here is a calf, two sheep, and half a hog."
"That is true," said the Ogre, "give them their belly-full, that they may not
fall away, and put them to bed."
The good woman was overjoyed at this, and gave them a good supper; but
they were so much afraid, they could not eat a bit. As for the Ogre, he sat
down again to drink, being highly pleased that he had got wherewithal to
treat his friends. He drank a dozen glasses more than ordinary, which got up
into his head, and obliged him to go to bed.
The Ogre had seven daughters, all little children, and these young Ogresses
had all of them very fine complexions, because they used to eat fresh meat
like their father; but they had little grey eyes, quite round, hooked noses,
wide mouths, and very long sharp teeth standing at a good distance from
each other. They were not as yet over and above mischievous; but they
promised very fair for it, for they already bit little children, that they might
suck their blood. They had been put to bed early, with every one a crown of
gold upon her head. There was in the same chamber another bed of the like
bigness, and it was into this bed the Ogre's wife put the seven little boys;
after which she went to bed to her husband.
Little Thumb, who had observed that the Ogre's daughters had crowns of
gold upon their heads, and was afraid lest the Ogre should repent his not
killing them, got up about midnight; and taking his brothers' bonnets and
his own, went very softly, put them upon the heads of the seven little
Ogresses, after having taken off their crowns of gold, which he put upon his
own head and his brothers', that the Ogre might take them for his daughters,
and his daughters for the little boys whom he wanted to kill. All this

succeeded according to his desire; for the Ogre waking about midnight, and
sorry that he deferred to do that till morning which he might have done
over-night, threw himself hastily out of bed, and taking his great knife:
"Let us see," said he, "how our little rogues do, and not make two jobs of
the matter."
He then went up, groping all the way, into his daughters' chamber; and
came to the bed where the little boys lay, who were every soul of them fast
asleep; except Little Thumb, who was terribly afraid when he found the
Ogre fumbling about his head, as he had done about his brothers'. The Ogre,
feeling the golden crowns, said:
"I should have made a fine piece of work of it truly; I find I guzzled too
much last night."
Then he went to the bed where the girls lay; and having found the boys'
little bonnets: "Hah!" said he, "my merry lads, are you there? Let us to
work!"
And saying these words, without more ado, he cut the throats of all his
seven daughters.
Well pleased with what he had done, he went to bed again to his wife. So
soon as Little Thumb heard the Ogre snore, he waked his brothers, and bade
them put on their clothes presently, and follow him. They stole down softly
into the garden, and got over the wall. They kept running almost all night,
trembling all the while, without knowing which way they went.
The Ogre, when he waked, said to his wife:
"Go up stairs and dress those young rascals who came here last night."
The Ogress was very much surprised at this goodness of her husband, not
dreaming after what manner he intended she should dress them; but
thinking that he had ordered her to go and put on their cloaths, went up, and
was strangely astonished when she perceived her seven daughters killed,
and weltering in their blood. She fainted away; for this is the first expedient
almost all women find in such-like cases. The Ogre, fearing his wife would

be too long in doing what he had ordered, went up himself to help her. He
was no less amazed than his wife, at this frightful spectacle.
"Ah! what have I done?" cried he. "The cursed wretches shall pay for it, and
that instantly."
He threw then a pitcher of water upon his wife's face; and having brought
her to herself:
"Give me quickly," cried he, "my boots of seven leagues, that I may go and
catch them."
He went out; and, having run over a vast deal of ground, both on this side
and that, he came at last into the very road where the poor children were,
and not above a hundred paces from their father's house. They espied the
Ogre, who went at one step from mountain to mountain, and over rivers as
easily as the narrowest kennels.[5] Little Thumb, seeing a hollow rock near
the place where they were, made his brothers hide themselves in it, and
crowded into it himself, minding always what would become of the Ogre.
[5] That is, 'channels.'

The Ogre, who found himself much tired with his long and fruitless journey
(for these boots of seven leagues extremely fatigue the wearer), had a great
mind to rest himself, and, by chance, went to sit down upon the rock where
these little boys had hid themselves. As he was worn out, he fell asleep:
and, after reposing himself some time he began to snore so frightfully, that
the poor children were no less afraid of him, than when he held up his great
knife, and was going to cut their throats. Little Thumb was not so much
frightened as his brothers, and told them that they should run away
immediately towards home, while the Ogre was asleep so soundly; and that
they should not be anxious about him. They took his advice, and got home
presently. Little Thumb came up to the Ogre, pulled off his boots gently,
and put them on upon his own legs. The boots were very long and large; but
as they were Fairies, they had the gift of becoming big and little, according
to the legs of those who wore them; so that they fitted his feet and legs as
well as if they had been made on purpose for him.
He went immediately to the Ogre's house, where he saw his wife crying
bitterly for the loss of her murdered daughters.

"Your husband," said Little Thumb, "is in very great danger, being taken by
a gang of thieves, who have sworn to kill him, if he does not give them all
his gold and silver. Just when they held their daggers at his throat, he
perceived me, and desired me to come and tell you the condition he is in,
and that you should give me whatsoever he has of value, without retaining
any one thing; for otherwise they will kill him without mercy; and, as his
case is very pressing, he desired me to make use (you see I have them on)
of his boots, that I might make the more haste, and to shew you that I do not
impose upon you."
The good woman, being sadly frightened, gave him all she had: for this
Ogre was a very good husband, tho' he used to eat up little children. Little
Thumb, having thus got all the Ogre's money, came home to his father's
house, where he was received with abundance of joy.
There are many people who do not agree in this circumstance, and pretend
that Little Thumb never robbed the Ogre at all, and that he only thought he
might very justly, and with safe conscience take off his boots of seven
leagues, because he made no other use of them, but to run after little
children. These folks affirm, that they were very well assured of this, and
the more, as having drank and eaten often at the faggot-maker's house. They
aver, that, when Little Thumb had taken off the Ogre's boots, he went to
Court, where he was informed that they were very anxious about a certain
army, which was two hundred leagues off, and the success of a battle. He
went, say they, to the King, and told him that, if he desired it, he would
bring him news from the army before night. The King promised him a great
sum of money upon that condition. Little Thumb was as good as his word,
and returned that very same night with the news; and this first expedition
causing him to be known, he got whatever he pleased; for the King paid
him very well for carrying his orders to the army, and abundance of ladies
gave him what he would to bring them news from their lovers; and that this
was his greatest gain. There were some married women, too, who sent
letters by him to their husbands, but they paid him so ill that it was not
worth his while, and turned to such small account, that he scorned ever to
reckon what he got that way. After having, for some time, carried on the
business of a messenger, and gained thereby great wealth, he went home to
his father, where it was impossible to express the joy they were all in at his
return. He made the whole family very well-to-do, bought places for his

father and brothers; and by that means settled them very handsomely in the
world, and, in the mean time, rose high in the King's favour.

The Moral

At many children parents don't repine,
If they are handsome; in their judgment shine;
Polite in carriage are, in body strong,
Graceful in mien, and elegant in tongue.
But if perchance an offspring prove but weak,
Him they revile, laugh at, defraud and cheat.
Such is the wretched world's curs'd way; and yet
Sometimes this urchin whom despis'd we see,
Through unforeseen events doth honour get,
And fortune bring to all his family.

The Ridiculous Wishes

"JUPITER APPEARED BEFORE HIM WIELDING HIS
MIGHTY THUNDERBOLTS"

The Ridiculous Wishes
n days long past there lived a poor woodcutter who found life very hard.
Indeed, it was his lot to toil for little guerdon, and although he was young
and happily married there were moments when he wished himself dead
and below ground.
One day while at his work he was again lamenting his fate.
"Some men," he said, "have only to make known their desires, and
straightway these are granted, and their every wish fulfilled; but it has
availed me little to wish for ought, for the gods are deaf to the prayers of
such as I."
As he spoke these words there was a great noise of thunder, and Jupiter
appeared before him wielding his mighty thunderbolts. Our poor man was
stricken with fear and threw himself on the ground.
"My lord," he said, "forget my foolish speech; heed not my wishes, but
cease thy thundering!"
"Have no fear," answered Jupiter; "I have heard thy plaint, and have come
hither to show thee how greatly thou dost wrong me. Hark! I, who am
sovereign lord of this world, promise to grant in full the first three wishes
which it will please thee to utter, whatever these may be. Consider well
what things can bring thee joy and prosperity, and as thy happiness is at
stake, be not over-hasty, but revolve the matter in thy mind."
Having thus spoken Jupiter withdrew himself and made his ascent to
Olympus. As for our woodcutter, he blithely corded his faggot, and
throwing it over his shoulder, made for his home. To one so light of heart
the load also seemed light, and his thoughts were merry as he strode along.
Many a wish came into his mind, but he was resolved to seek the advice of
his wife, who was a young woman of good understanding.

"A LONG BLACK PUDDING CAME WINDING AND
WRIGGLING TOWARDS HER"
He had soon reached his cottage, and casting down his faggot:
"Behold me, Fanny," he said. "Make up the fire and spread the board, and
let there be no stint. We are wealthy, Fanny, wealthy for evermore; we have
only to wish for whatsoever we may desire."

Thereupon he told her the story of what had befallen that day. Fanny, whose
mind was quick and active, immediately conceived many plans for the
advancement of their fortune, but she approved her husband's resolve to act
with prudence and circumspection.
"'Twere a pity," she said, "to spoil our chances through impatience. We had
best take counsel of the night, and wish no wishes until to-morrow."
"That is well spoken," answered Harry. "Meanwhile fetch a bottle of our
best, and we shall drink to our good fortune."
Fanny brought a bottle from the store behind the faggots, and our man
enjoyed his ease, leaning back in his chair with his toes to the fire and his
goblet in his hand.
"What fine glowing embers!" he said, "and what a fine toasting fire! I wish
we had a black pudding at hand."
Hardly had he spoken these words when his wife beheld, to her great
astonishment, a long black pudding which, issuing from a corner of the
hearth, came winding and wriggling towards her. She uttered a cry of fear,
and then again exclaimed in dismay, when she perceived that this strange
occurrence was due to the wish which her husband had so rashly and
foolishly spoken. Turning upon him, in her anger and disappointment she
called the poor man all the abusive names that she could think of.
"What!" she said to him, "when you can call for a kingdom, for gold, pearls,
rubies, diamonds, for princely garments and wealth untold, is this the time
to set your mind upon black puddings!"
"Nay!" answered the man, "'twas a thoughtless speech, and a sad mistake;
but I shall now be on my guard, and shall do better next time."
"Who knows that you will?" returned his wife. "Once a witless fool, always
a witless fool!" and giving free rein to her vexation and ill-temper she
continued to upbraid her husband until his anger also was stirred, and he
had wellnigh made a second bid and wished himself a widower.
"Enough! woman," he cried at last; "put a check upon thy froward tongue!
Who ever heard such impertinence as this! A plague on the shrew and on

her pudding! Would to heaven it hung at the end of her nose!"
No sooner had the husband given voice to these words than the wish was
straightway granted, and the long coil of black pudding appeared grafted to
the angry dame's nose.
Our man paused when he beheld what he had wrought. Fanny was a comely
young woman, and blest with good looks, and truth to tell, this new
ornament did not set off her beauty. Yet it offered one advantage, that as it
hung right before her mouth, it would thus effectively curb her speech.
So, having now but one wish left, he had all but resolved to make good use
of it without further delay, and, before any other mischance could befall, to
wish himself a kingdom of his own. He was about to speak the word, when
he was stayed by a sudden thought.
"It is true," he said to himself, "that there is none so great as a King, but
what of the Queen that must share his dignity? With what grace would she
sit beside me on the throne with a yard of black pudding for a nose?"
In this dilemma he resolved to put the case to Fanny, and to leave her to
decide whether she would rather be a Queen, with this most horrible
appendage marring her good looks, or remain a peasant wife, but with her
shapely nose relieved of this untoward addition.

"TRUTH TO TELL, THIS NEW ORNAMENT DID NOT
SET OFF HER BEAUTY"
Fanny's mind was soon made up: although she had dreamt of a crown and
sceptre, yet a woman's first wish is always to please. To this great desire all
else must yield, and Fanny would rather be fair in drugget than be a Queen
with an ugly face.

Thus our woodcutter did not change his state, did not become a potentate,
nor fill his purse with golden crowns. He was thankful enough to use his
remaining wish to a more humble purpose, and forthwith relieved his wife
of her encumbrance.

The Moral

Ah! so it is that miserable man,
By nature fickle, blind, unwise, and rash,
Oft fails to reap a harvest from great gifts
Bestowed upon him by the heav'nly gods.

Donkey-skin

"ANOTHER GOWN THE COLOUR OF THE MOON"
(page 145)

Donkey-skin
nce upon a time there was a King, so great, so beloved by his people,
and so respected by all his neighbours and allies that one might almost
say he was the happiest monarch alive. His good fortune was made even
greater by the choice he had made for wife of a Princess as beautiful as she
was virtuous, with whom he lived in perfect happiness. Now, of this chaste
marriage was born a daughter endowed with so many gifts that they had no
regret because other children were not given to them.
Magnificence, good taste, and abundance reigned in the palace; there were
wise and clever ministers, virtuous and devoted courtiers, faithful and
diligent servants. The spacious stables were filled with the most beautiful
horses in the world, and coverts of rich caparison; but what most astonished
strangers who came to admire them was to see, in the finest stall, a master
donkey, with great long ears.
Now, it was not for a whim but for a good reason that the King had given
this donkey a particular and distinguished place. The special qualities of this
rare animal deserved the distinction, since nature had made it in so
extraordinary a way that its litter, instead of being like that of other
donkeys, was covered every morning with an abundance of beautiful golden
crowns, and golden louis of every kind, which were collected daily.
Since the vicissitudes of life wait on Kings as much as on their subjects, and
good is always mingled with ill, it so befell that the Queen was suddenly
attacked by a fatal illness, and, in spite of science, and the skill of the
doctors, no remedy could be found. There was great mourning throughout
the land. The King who, notwithstanding the famous proverb, that marriage
is the tomb of love, was deeply attached to his wife, was distressed beyond
measure and made fervent vows to all the temples in his kingdom, and
offered to give his life for that of his beloved consort; but he invoked the
gods and the Fairies in vain. The Queen, feeling her last hour approach, said
to her husband, who was dissolved in tears: "It is well that I should speak to
you of a certain matter before I die: if, perchance, you should desire to

marry again...." At these words the King broke into piteous cries, took his
wife's hands in his own, and assured her that it was useless to speak to him
of a second marriage.
"No, my dear spouse," he said at last, "speak to me rather of how I may
follow you."
"The State," continued the Queen with a finality which but increased the
laments of the King, "the State demands successors, and since I have only
given you a daughter, it will urge you to beget sons who resemble you; but I
ask you earnestly not to give way to the persuasions of your people until
you have found a Princess more beautiful and more perfectly fashioned than
I. I beg you to swear this to me, and then I shall die content."
Perchance, the Queen, who did not lack self-esteem, exacted this oath
firmly believing that there was not her equal in the world, and so felt
assured that the King would never marry again. Be this as it may, at length
she died, and never did husband make so much lamentation; the King wept
and sobbed day and night, and the punctilious fulfilment of the rites of
widower-hood, even the smallest, was his sole occupation.
But even great griefs do not last for ever. After a time the magnates of the
State assembled and came to the King, urging him to take another wife. At
first this request seemed hard to him and made him shed fresh tears. He
pleaded the vows he had made to the Queen, and defied his counsellors to
find a Princess more beautiful and better fashioned than was she, thinking
this to be impossible. But the Council treated the promise as a trifle, and
said that it mattered little about beauty if the Queen were but virtuous and
fruitful. For the State needed Princes for its peace and prosperity, and
though, in truth, the Princess, his daughter, had all the qualities requisite for
making a great Queen, yet of necessity she must choose an alien for her
husband, and then the stranger would take her away with him. If, on the
other hand, he remained in her country and shared the throne with her, their
children would not be considered to be of pure native stock, and so, there
being no Prince of his name, neighbouring peoples would stir up wars, and
the kingdom would be ruined.
The King, impressed by these considerations, promised that he would think
over the matter. And so search was made among all the marriageable

Princesses for one that would suit him. Every day charming portraits were
brought him, but none gave promise of the beauty of his late Queen; instead
of coming to a decision he brooded over his sorrow until in the end his
reason left him. In his delusions he imagined himself once more a young
man; he thought the Princess his daughter, in her youth and beauty, was his
Queen as he had known her in the days of their courtship, and living thus in
the past he urged the unhappy girl to speedily become his bride.
The young Princess, who was virtuous and chaste, threw herself at the feet
of the King her father and conjured him, with all the eloquence she could
command, not to constrain her to consent to his unnatural desire.
The King, in his madness, could not understand the reason of her desperate
reluctance, and asked an old Druid-priest to set the conscience of the
Princess at rest. Now this Druid, less religious than ambitious, sacrificed the
cause of innocence and virtue to the favour of so great a monarch, and
instead of trying to restore the King to his right mind, he encouraged him in
his delusion.

"HE THOUGHT THE PRINCESS WAS HIS QUEEN"
The young Princess, beside herself with misery, at last bethought her of the
Lilac-fairy, her godmother; determined to consult her, she set out that same
night in a pretty little carriage drawn by a great sheep who knew all the
roads. When she arrived the Fairy, who loved the Princess, told her that she
knew all she had come to say, but that she need have no fear, for nothing
would harm her if only she faithfully fulfilled the Fairy's injunctions. "For,

my dear child," she said to her, "it would be a great sin to submit to your
father's wishes, but you can avoid the necessity without displeasing him.
Tell him that to satisfy a whim you have, he must give you a dress the
colour of the weather. Never, in spite of all his love and his power will he
be able to give you that."
The Princess thanked her godmother from her heart, and the next morning
spoke to the King as the Fairy had counselled her, and protested that no one
would win her hand unless he gave her a dress the colour of the weather.
The King, overjoyed and hopeful, called together the most skilful workmen,
and demanded this robe of them; otherwise they should be hanged. But he
was saved from resorting to this extreme measure, since, on the second day,
they brought the much desired robe. The heavens are not a more beautiful
blue, when they are girdled with clouds of gold, than was that lovely dress
when it was unfolded. The Princess was very sad because of it, and did not
know what to do.
Once more she went to her Fairy-godmother who, astonished that her plan
had been foiled, now told her to ask for another gown the colour of the
moon.
The King again sought out the most clever workmen and expressly
commanded them to make a dress the colour of the moon; and woe betide
them if between the giving of the order and the bringing of the dress more
than twenty-four hours should elapse.
The Princess, though pleased with the dress when it was delivered, gave
way to distress when she was with her women and her nurse. The Lilac-
fairy, who knew all, hastened to comfort her and said: "Either I am greatly
deceived or it is certain that if you ask for a dress the colour of the sun we
shall at last baffle the King your father, for it would never be possible to
make such a gown; in any case we should gain time."
So the Princess asked for yet another gown as the Fairy bade her. The
infatuated King could refuse his daughter nothing, and he gave without
regret all the diamonds and rubies in his crown to aid this superb work;
nothing was to be spared that could make the dress as beautiful as the sun.
And, indeed, when the dress appeared, all those who unfolded it were

obliged to close their eyes, so much were they dazzled. And, truth to tell,
green spectacles and smoked glasses date from that time.
What was the Princess to do? Never had so beautiful and so artistic a robe
been seen. She was dumb-founded, and pretending that its brilliance had
hurt her eyes she retired to her chamber, where she found the Fairy awaiting
her.
On seeing the dress like the sun, the Lilac-fairy became red with rage. "Oh!
this time, my child," she said to the Princess, "we will put the King to
terrible proof. In spite of his madness I think he will be a little astonished
by the request that I counsel you to make of him; it is that he should give
you the skin of that ass he loves so dearly, and which supplies him so
profusely with the means of paying all his expenses. Go, and do not fail to
tell him that you want this skin." The Princess, overjoyed at finding yet
another avenue of escape; for she thought that her father could never bring
himself to sacrifice the ass, went to find him, and unfolded to him her latest
desire.
Although the King was astonished by this whim, he did not hesitate to
satisfy it; the poor ass was sacrificed and the skin brought, with due
ceremony, to the Princess, who, seeing no other way of avoiding her ill-
fortune, was desperate.
At that moment her godmother arrived. "What are you doing, my child?"
she asked, seeing the Princess tearing her hair, her beautiful cheeks stained
with tears. "This is the most happy moment of your life. Wrap yourself in
this skin, leave the palace, and walk so long as you can find ground to carry
you: when one sacrifices everything to virtue the gods know how to mete
out reward. Go, and I will take care that your possessions follow you; in
whatever place you rest, your chest with your clothes and your jewels will
follow your steps, and here is my wand which I will give you: tap the
ground with it when you have need of the chest, and it will appear before
your eyes: but haste to set forth, and do not delay." The Princess embraced
her godmother many times, and begged her not to forsake her. Then after
she had smeared herself with soot from the chimney, she wrapped herself
up in that ugly skin and went out from the magnificent palace without being
recognised by a single person.

The absence of the Princess caused a great commotion. The King, who had
caused a sumptuous banquet to be prepared, was inconsolable. He sent out
more than a hundred gendarmes, and more than a thousand musketeers in
quest of her; but the Lilac-fairy made her invisible to the cleverest seekers,
and thus she escaped their vigilance.
Meanwhile the Princess walked far, far and even farther away; after a time
she sought for a resting place, but although out of charity people gave her
food, she was so dishevelled and dirty that no one wanted to keep her. At
length she came to a beautiful town, at the gate of which was a small farm.
Now the farmer's wife had need of a wench to wash the dishes and to attend
to the geese and the pigs, and seeing so dirty a vagrant offered to engage
her. The Princess, who was now much fatigued, accepted joyfully. She was
put into a recess in the kitchen where for the first days she was subjected to
the coarse jokes of the men-servants, so dirty and unpleasant did the
donkey-skin make her appear. At last they tired of their pleasantries;
moreover she was so attentive to her work that the farmer's wife took her
under her protection. She minded the sheep, and penned them up when it
was necessary, and she took the geese out to feed with such intelligence that
it seemed as if she had never done anything else. Everything that her
beautiful hands undertook was done well.
One day she was sitting near a clear fountain where she often repaired to
bemoan her sad condition, when she thought she would look at herself in
the water. The horrible donkey-skin which covered her from head to toe
revolted her. Ashamed, she washed her face and her hands, which became
whiter than ivory, and once again her lovely complexion took its natural
freshness. The joy of finding herself so beautiful filled her with the desire to
bathe in the pool, and this she did. But she had to don her unworthy skin
again before she returned to the farm.
By good fortune the next day chanced to be a holiday, and so she had
leisure to tap for her chest with the fairy's wand, arrange her toilet, powder
her beautiful hair and put on the lovely gown which was the colour of the
weather; but the room was so small that the train could not be properly
spread out. The beautiful Princess looked at herself, and with good reason,
admired her appearance so much that she resolved to wear her magnificent
dresses in turn on holidays and Sundays for her own amusement, and this

she regularly did. She entwined flowers and diamonds in her lovely hair
with admirable art, and often she sighed that she had no witness of her
beauty save the sheep and geese, who loved her just as much in the horrible
donkey-skin after which she had been named at the farm.
One holiday when Donkey-skin had put on her sun-hued dress, the son of
the King to whom the farm belonged alighted there to rest on his return
from the hunt. This Prince was young and handsome, beloved of his father
and of the Queen his mother, and adored by the people. After he had
partaken of the simple collation which was offered him he set out to inspect
the farm-yard and all its nooks and corners. In going thus from place to
place, he entered a dark alley at the bottom of which was a closed door.
Curiosity made him put his eye to the keyhole. Imagine his astonishment at
seeing a Princess so beautiful and so richly dressed, and withal of so noble
and dignified a mien, that he took her to be a divinity. The impetuosity of
his feelings at this moment would have made him force the door, had it not
been for the respect with which that charming figure filled him.

"CURIOSITY MADE HIM PUT HIS EYE TO THE
KEYHOLE"
It was with difficulty that he withdrew from this gloomy little alley, intent
on discovering who the inmate of the tiny room might be. He was told that
it was a scullion called Donkey-skin because of the skin which she always
wore, and that she was so dirty and unpleasant that no one took any notice
of her, or even spoke to her; she had just been taken out of pity to look after
the geese.

The Prince, though little satisfied by this information, saw that these dense
people knew no more, and that it was useless to question them. So he
returned to the palace of the King his father, beyond words in love, having
continually before his eyes the beautiful image of the goddess whom he had
seen through the keyhole. He was full of regret that he had not knocked at
the door, and promised himself that he would not fail to do so next time.
But the fervency of his love caused him such great agitation that the same
night he was seized by a terrible fever, and was soon at death's door. The
Queen, who had no other child, was in despair because all remedies proved
useless. In vain she promised great rewards to the doctors; though they
exerted all their skill, nothing would cure the Prince. At last they decided
that some great sorrow had caused this terrible fever. They told the Queen,
who, full of tenderness for her son, went to him and begged him to tell her
his trouble. She declared that even if it was a matter of giving him the
crown, his father would yield the throne to him without regret; or if he
desired some Princess, even though there should be war with the King her
father and their subjects should, with reason, complain, all should be
sacrificed to obtain what he wished. She implored him with tears not to die,
since their life depended on his. The Queen did not finish this touching
discourse without moving the Prince to tears.
"Madam," he said at last, in a very feeble voice, "I am not so base that I
desire the crown of my father, rather may Heaven grant him life for many
years, and that I may always be the most faithful and the most respectful of
his subjects! As to the Princesses that you speak of, I have never yet thought
of marriage, and you well know that, subject as I am to your wishes, I shall
obey you always, even though it be painful to me."
"Ah! my son," replied the Queen, "we will spare nothing to save your life.
But, my dear child, save mine and that of the King your father by telling me
what you desire, and be assured that you shall have it."
"Well, Madam," he said, "since you would have me tell you my thought, I
obey you. It would indeed be a sin to place in danger two lives so dear to
me. Know, my mother, that I wish Donkey-skin to make me a cake, and to
have it brought to me when it is ready."

The Queen, astonished at this strange name, asked who Donkey-skin might
be.
"It is, Madam," replied one of her officers who had by chance seen this girl,
"It is the most ugly creature imaginable after the wolf, a slut who lodges at
your farm, and minds your geese."
"It matters not," said the Queen; "my son, on his way home from the chase,
has perchance eaten of her cakes; it is a whim such as those who are sick do
sometimes have. In a word, I wish that Donkey-skin, since Donkey-skin it
is, make him presently a cake."
A messenger ran to the farm and told Donkey-skin that she was to make a
cake for the Prince as well as she possibly could. Now, some believe that
Donkey-skin had been aware of the Prince in her heart at the moment when
he had put his eye to the keyhole; and then, looking from her little window,
she had seen him, so young, so handsome, and so shapely, that the
remembrance of him had remained, and that often the thought of him had
cost her some sighs. Be that as it may, Donkey-skin, either having seen him,
or having heard him spoken of with praise, was overjoyed to think that she
might become known to him. She shut herself in her little room, threw off
the ugly skin, bathed her face and hands, arranged her hair, put on a
beautiful corsage of bright silver, and an equally beautiful petticoat, and
then set herself to make the much desired cake. She took the finest flour,
and newest eggs and freshest butter, and while she was working them,
whether by design or no, a ring which she had on her finger fell into the
cake and was mixed in it. When the cooking was done she muffled herself
in her horrible skin and gave the cake to the messenger, asking him for
news of the Prince; but the man would not deign to reply, and without a
word ran quickly back to the palace.
The Prince took the cake greedily from the man's hands, and ate it with such
voracity that the doctors who were present did not fail to say that this haste
was not a good sign. Indeed, the Prince came near to being choked by the
ring, which he nearly swallowed, in one of the pieces of cake. But he drew
it cleverly from his mouth, and his desire for the cake was forgotten as he
examined the fine emerald set in a gold keeper-ring, a ring so small that he
knew it could only be worn on the prettiest little finger in the world.

He kissed the ring a thousand times, put it under his pillow, and drew it out
every moment that he thought himself unobserved. The torment that he
gave himself, planning how he might see her to whom the ring belonged,
not daring to believe that if he asked for Donkey-skin she would be allowed
to come, and not daring to speak of what he had seen through the keyhole
for fear that he would be laughed at for a dreamer, brought back the fever
with great violence. The doctors, not knowing what more to do, declared to
the Queen that the Prince's malady was love, whereupon the Queen and the
disconsolate King ran to their son.
"My son, my dear son," cried the affected monarch, "tell us the name of her
whom you desire: we swear that we will give her to you. Even though she
were the vilest of slaves."
The Queen embracing him, agreed with all that the King had said, and the
Prince, moved by their tears and caresses, said to them: "My father and my
mother, I in no way desire to make a marriage which is displeasing to you."
And drawing the emerald from under his pillow he added: "To prove the
truth of this, I desire to marry her to whom this ring belongs. It is not likely
that she who owns so pretty a ring is a rustic or a peasant."
The King and the Queen took the ring, examined it with great curiosity, and
agreed with the Prince that it could only belong to the daughter of a good
house. Then the King, having embraced his son, and entreated him to get
well, went out. He ordered the drums and fifes and trumpets to be sounded
throughout the town, and the heralds to cry that she whose finger a certain
ring would fit should marry the heir to the throne.
First the Princesses arrived, then the duchesses, and the marquises, and the
baronesses; but though they did all they could to make their fingers small,
none could put on the ring. So the country girls had to be tried, but pretty
though they all were, they all had fingers that were too fat. The Prince, who
was feeling better, made the trial himself. At last it was the turn of the
chamber-maids; but they succeeded no better. Then, when everyone else
had tried, the Prince asked for the kitchen-maids, the scullions, and the
sheep-girls. They were all brought to the palace, but their coarse red, short,
fingers would hardly go through the golden hoop as far as the nail.

"You have not brought that Donkey-skin, who made me the cake," said the
Prince.
Everyone laughed and said, "No," so dirty and unpleasant was she.
"Let someone fetch her at once," said the King; "it shall not be said that I
left out the lowliest." And the servants ran laughing and mocking to find the
goose-girl.
The Princess, who had heard the drums and the cries of the heralds, had no
doubt that the ring was the cause of this uproar. Now, she loved the Prince,
and, as true love is timorous and has no vanity, she was in perpetual fear
that some other lady would be found to have a finger as small as hers.
Great, then, was her joy when the messengers came and knocked at her
door. Since she knew that they were seeking the owner of the right finger on
which to set her ring, some impulse had moved her to arrange her hair with
great care, and to put on her beautiful silver corsage, and the petticoat full
of furbelows and silver lace studded with emeralds. At the first knock she
quickly covered her finery with the donkey-skin and opened the door. The
visitors, in derision, told her that the King had sent for her in order to marry
her to his son. Then with loud peals of laughter they led her to the Prince,
who was astonished at the garb of this girl, and dared not believe that it was
she whom he had seen so majestic and so beautiful. Sad and confounded, he
said, "Is it you who lodge at the bottom of that dark alley in the third yard
of the farm?"
"Yes, your Highness," she replied.
"Show me your hand," said the Prince trembling, and heaving a deep sigh.
Imagine how astonished everyone was! The King and the Queen, the
chamberlains and all the courtiers were dumb-founded, when from beneath
that black and dirty skin came a delicate little white and rose-pink hand, and
the ring slipped without difficulty on to the prettiest little finger in the
world. Then, by a little movement which the Princess made, the skin fell
from her shoulders and so enchanting was her guise, that the Prince, weak
though he was, fell on his knees and held her so closely that she blushed.
But that was scarcely noticed, for the King and Queen came to embrace her
heartily, and to ask her if she would marry their son. The Princess, confused

by all these caresses and by the love of the handsome young Prince, was
about to thank them when suddenly the ceiling opened, and the Lilac-fairy
descended in a chariot made of the branches and flowers from which she
took her name, and, with great charm, told the Princess's story. The King
and Queen, overjoyed to know that Donkey-skin was a great Princess
redoubled their caresses, but the Prince was even more sensible of her
virtue, and his love increased as the Fairy unfolded her tale. His impatience
to marry her, indeed, was so great that he could scarcely allow time for the
necessary preparations for the grand wedding which was their due. The
King and Queen, now entirely devoted to their daughter-in-law,
overwhelmed her with affection. She had declared that she could not marry
the Prince without the consent of the King her father, so, he was the first to
whom an invitation to the wedding was sent; he was not, however, told the
name of the bride. The Lilac-fairy, who, as was right, presided over all, had
recommended this course to prevent trouble. Kings came from all the
countries round, some in sedan-chairs, others in beautiful carriages; those
who came from the most distant countries rode on elephants and tigers and
eagles. But the most magnificent and most glorious of all was the father of
the Princess. He had happily recovered his reason, and had married a Queen
who was a widow and very beautiful, but by whom he had no child. The
Princess ran to him, and he recognised her at once and embraced her with
great tenderness before she had time to throw herself on her knees. The
King and Queen presented their son to him, and the happiness of all was
complete. The nuptials were celebrated with all imaginable pomp, but the
young couple were hardly aware of the ceremony, so wrapped up were they
in one another.
In spite of the protests of the noble-hearted young man, the Prince's father
caused his son to be crowned the same day, and kissing his hand, placed
him on the throne.
The celebrations of this illustrious marriage lasted nearly three months, but
the love of the two young people would have endured for more than a
hundred years, had they out-lived that age, so great was their affection for
one another.

The Moral

It scarce may be believed,
This tale of Donkey-skin;
But laughing children in the home;
Yea, mothers, and grandmothers too,
Are little moved by facts!
By them 'twill be received.

Uniform with this Volume

THE YEAR'S AT THE SPRING

An Anthology of Recent Poetry.
Selected by L. D'O. Walters.
With Twelve Plates in Colour
and Twelve in Black and White
and many Decorations by Harry Clarke.

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FAIRY TALES
OF CHARLES PERRAULT ***

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