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Title: The Blue Fairy Book

Author: Andrew Lang

Release date: October 21, 2005 [eBook #503]
Most recently updated: July 11, 2026

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/503

Credits: Produced by David Widger, and Charles Keller for Tina

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLUE
FAIRY BOOK ***

THE BLUE FAIRY BOOK

By Various

Edited by Andrew Lang

CONTENTS

THE BRONZE RING
PRINCE HYACINTH AND THE DEAR LITTLE
PRINCESS
EAST OF THE SUN AND WEST OF THE MOON
THE YELLOW DWARF
LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD
THE SLEEPING BEAUTY IN THE WOOD
CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER
ALADDIN AND THE WONDERFUL LAMP
THE TALE OF A YOUTH WHO SET OUT TO
LEARN WHAT FEAR WAS
RUMPELSTILTZKIN
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST
THE MASTER-MAID
WHY THE SEA IS SALT

THE MASTER CAT; OR, PUSS IN BOOTS
FELICIA AND THE POT OF PINKS
THE WHITE CAT
THE WATER-LILY. THE GOLD-SPINNERS
THE TERRIBLE HEAD
THE STORY OF PRETTY GOLDILOCKS
THE HISTORY OF WHITTINGTON
THE WONDERFUL SHEEP
LITTLE THUMB
THE FORTY THIEVES
HANSEL AND GRETTEL
SNOW-WHITE AND ROSE-RED
THE GOOSE-GIRL
TOADS AND DIAMONDS
PRINCE DARLING
BLUE BEARD
TRUSTY JOHN
THE BRAVE LITTLE TAILOR

A VOYAGE TO LILLIPUT
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V

THE PRINCESS ON THE GLASS HILL
THE STORY OF PRINCE AHMED AND THE
FAIRY PARIBANOU
THE HISTORY OF JACK THE GIANT-KILLER
THE BLACK BULL OF NORROWAY
THE RED ETIN

THE BRONZE RING
Once upon a time in a certain country there lived a king whose palace
was surrounded by a spacious garden. But, though the gardeners were many
and the soil was good, this garden yielded neither flowers nor fruits, not
even grass or shady trees.
The King was in despair about it, when a wise old man said to him:
“Your gardeners do not understand their business: but what can you
expect of men whose fathers were cobblers and carpenters? How should
they have learned to cultivate your garden?”
“You are quite right,” cried the King.
“Therefore,” continued the old man, “you should send for a gardener
whose father and grandfather have been gardeners before him, and very
soon your garden will be full of green grass and gay flowers, and you will
enjoy its delicious fruit.”
So the King sent messengers to every town, village, and hamlet in his
dominions, to look for a gardener whose forefathers had been gardeners
also, and after forty days one was found.
“Come with us and be gardener to the King,” they said to him.
“How can I go to the King,” said the gardener, “a poor wretch like me?”
“That is of no consequence,” they answered. “Here are new clothes for
you and your family.”
“But I owe money to several people.”
“We will pay your debts,” they said.
So the gardener allowed himself to be persuaded, and went away with the
messengers, taking his wife and his son with him; and the King, delighted
to have found a real gardener, entrusted him with the care of his garden.
The man found no difficulty in making the royal garden produce flowers
and fruit, and at the end of a year the park was not like the same place, and
the King showered gifts upon his new servant.
The gardener, as you have heard already, had a son, who was a very
handsome young man, with most agreeable manners, and every day he

carried the best fruit of the garden to the King, and all the prettiest flowers
to his daughter. Now this princess was wonderfully pretty and was just
sixteen years old, and the King was beginning to think it was time that she
should be married.
“My dear child,” said he, “you are of an age to take a husband, therefore
I am thinking of marrying you to the son of my prime minister.
“Father,” replied the Princess, “I will never marry the son of the
minister.”
“Why not?” asked the King.
“Because I love the gardener’s son,” answered the Princess.
On hearing this the King was at first very angry, and then he wept and
sighed, and declared that such a husband was not worthy of his daughter;
but the young Princess was not to be turned from her resolution to marry
the gardener’s son.
Then the King consulted his ministers. “This is what you must do,” they
said. “To get rid of the gardener you must send both suitors to a very distant
country, and the one who returns first shall marry your daughter.”
The King followed this advice, and the minister’s son was presented with
a splendid horse and a purse full of gold pieces, while the gardener’s son
had only an old lame horse and a purse full of copper money, and every one
thought he would never come back from his journey.
The day before they started the Princess met her lover and said to him:
“Be brave, and remember always that I love you. Take this purse full of
jewels and make the best use you can of them for love of me, and come
back quickly and demand my hand.”
The two suitors left the town together, but the minister’s son went off at a
gallop on his good horse, and very soon was lost to sight behind the most
distant hills. He traveled on for some days, and presently reached a fountain
beside which an old woman all in rags sat upon a stone.
“Good-day to you, young traveler,” said she.
But the minister’s son made no reply.
“Have pity upon me, traveler,” she said again. “I am dying of hunger, as
you see, and three days have I been here and no one has given me
anything.”

“Let me alone, old witch,” cried the young man; “I can do nothing for
you,” and so saying he went on his way.
That same evening the gardener’s son rode up to the fountain upon his
lame gray horse.
“Good-day to you, young traveler,” said the beggar-woman.
“Good-day, good woman,” answered he.
“Young traveler, have pity upon me.”
“Take my purse, good woman,” said he, “and mount behind me, for your
legs can’t be very strong.”
The old woman didn’t wait to be asked twice, but mounted behind him,
and in this style they reached the chief city of a powerful kingdom. The
minister’s son was lodged in a grand inn, the gardener’s son and the old
woman dismounted at the inn for beggars.
The next day the gardener’s son heard a great noise in the street, and the
King’s heralds passed, blowing all kinds of instruments, and crying:
“The King, our master, is old and infirm. He will give a great reward to
whoever will cure him and give him back the strength of his youth.”
Then the old beggar-woman said to her benefactor:
“This is what you must do to obtain the reward which the King promises.
Go out of the town by the south gate, and there you will find three little
dogs of different colors; the first will be white, the second black, the third
red. You must kill them and then burn them separately, and gather up the
ashes. Put the ashes of each dog into a bag of its own color, then go before
the door of the palace and cry out, ‘A celebrated physician has come from
Janina in Albania. He alone can cure the King and give him back the
strength of his youth.’ The King’s physicians will say, This is an impostor,
and not a learned man,’ and they will make all sorts of difficulties, but you
will overcome them all at last, and will present yourself before the sick
King. You must then demand as much wood as three mules can carry, and a
great cauldron, and must shut yourself up in a room with the Sultan, and
when the cauldron boils you must throw him into it, and there leave him
until his flesh is completely separated from his bones. Then arrange the
bones in their proper places, and throw over them the ashes out of the three
bags. The King will come back to life, and will be just as he was when he
was twenty years old. For your reward you must demand the bronze ring

which has the power to grant you everything you desire. Go, my son, and
do not forget any of my instructions.”
The young man followed the old beggar-woman’s directions. On going
out of the town he found the white, red, and black dogs, and killed and
burnt them, gathering the ashes in three bags. Then he ran to the palace and
cried:
“A celebrated physician has just come from Janina in Albania. He alone
can cure the King and give him back the strength of his youth.”
The King’s physicians at first laughed at the unknown wayfarer, but the
Sultan ordered that the stranger should be admitted. They brought the
cauldron and the loads of wood, and very soon the King was boiling away.
Toward mid-day the gardener’s son arranged the bones in their places, and
he had hardly scattered the ashes over them before the old King revived, to
find himself once more young and hearty.
“How can I reward you, my benefactor?” he cried. “Will you take half
my treasures?”
“No,” said the gardener’s son.
“My daughter’s hand?”
“No.”
“Take half my kingdom.”
“No. Give me only the bronze ring which can instantly grant me anything
I wish for.”
“Alas!” said the King, “I set great store by that marvelous ring;
nevertheless, you shall have it.” And he gave it to him.
The gardener’s son went back to say good-by to the old beggar-woman;
then he said to the bronze ring:
“Prepare a splendid ship in which I may continue my journey. Let the
hull be of fine gold, the masts of silver, the sails of brocade; let the crew
consist of twelve young men of noble appearance, dressed like kings. St.
Nicholas will be at the helm. As to the cargo, let it be diamonds, rubies,
emeralds, and carbuncles.”
And immediately a ship appeared upon the sea which resembled in every
particular the description given by the gardener’s son, and, stepping on
board, he continued his journey. Presently he arrived at a great town and

established himself in a wonderful palace. After several days he met his
rival, the minister’s son, who had spent all his money and was reduced to
the disagreeable employment of a carrier of dust and rubbish. The
gardener’s son said to him:
“What is your name, what is your family, and from what country do you
come?”
“I am the son of the prime minister of a great nation, and yet see what a
degrading occupation I am reduced to.”
“Listen to me; though I don’t know anything more about you, I am
willing to help you. I will give you a ship to take you back to your own
country upon one condition.”
“Whatever it may be, I accept it willingly.”
“Follow me to my palace.”
The minister’s son followed the rich stranger, whom he had not
recognized. When they reached the palace the gardener’s son made a sign to
his slaves, who completely undressed the new-comer.
“Make this ring red-hot,” commanded the master, “and mark the man
with it upon his back.”
The slaves obeyed him.
“Now, young man,” said the rich stranger, “I am going to give you a
vessel which will take you back to your own country.”
And, going out, he took the bronze ring and said:
“Bronze ring, obey thy master. Prepare me a ship of which the half-rotten
timbers shall be painted black, let the sails be in rags, and the sailors infirm
and sickly. One shall have lost a leg, another an arm, the third shall be a
hunchback, another lame or club-footed or blind, and most of them shall be
ugly and covered with scars. Go, and let my orders be executed.”
The minister’s son embarked in this old vessel, and thanks to favorable
winds, at length reached his own country. In spite of the pitiable condition
in which he returned they received him joyfully.
“I am the first to come back,” said he to the King; now fulfil your
promise, and give me the princess in marriage.
So they at once began to prepare for the wedding festivities. As to the
poor princess, she was sorrowful and angry enough about it.

The next morning, at daybreak, a wonderful ship with every sail set came
to anchor before the town. The King happened at that moment to be at the
palace window.
“What strange ship is this,” he cried, “that has a golden hull, silver masts,
and silken sails, and who are the young men like princes who man it? And
do I not see St. Nicholas at the helm? Go at once and invite the captain of
the ship to come to the palace.”
His servants obeyed him, and very soon in came an enchantingly
handsome young prince, dressed in rich silk, ornamented with pearls and
diamonds.
“Young man,” said the King, “you are welcome, whoever you may be.
Do me the favor to be my guest as long as you remain in my capital.”
“Many thanks, sire,” replied the captain, “I accept your offer.”
“My daughter is about to be married,” said the King; “will you give her
away?”
“I shall be charmed, sire.”
Soon after came the Princess and her betrothed.
“Why, how is this?” cried the young captain; “would you marry this
charming princess to such a man as that?”
“But he is my prime minister’s son!”
“What does that matter? I cannot give your daughter away. The man she
is betrothed to is one of my servants.”
“Your servant?”
“Without doubt. I met him in a distant town reduced to carrying away
dust and rubbish from the houses. I had pity on him and engaged him as one
of my servants.”
“It is impossible!” cried the King.
“Do you wish me to prove what I say? This young man returned in a
vessel which I fitted out for him, an unseaworthy ship with a black battered
hull, and the sailors were infirm and crippled.”
“It is quite true,” said the King.
“It is false,” cried the minister’s son. “I do not know this man!”

“Sire,” said the young captain, “order your daughter’s betrothed to be
stripped, and see if the mark of my ring is not branded upon his back.”
The King was about to give this order, when the minister’s son, to save
himself from such an indignity, admitted that the story was true.
“And now, sire,” said the young captain, “do you not recognize me?”
“I recognize you,” said the Princess; “you are the gardener’s son whom I
have always loved, and it is you I wish to marry.”
“Young man, you shall be my son-in-law,” cried the King. “The marriage
festivities are already begun, so you shall marry my daughter this very day.”
And so that very day the gardener’s son married the beautiful Princess.
Several months passed. The young couple were as happy as the day was
long, and the King was more and more pleased with himself for having
secured such a son-in-law.
But, presently, the captain of the golden ship found it necessary to take a
long voyage, and after embracing his wife tenderly he embarked.
Now in the outskirts of the capital there lived an old man, who had spent
his life in studying black arts—alchemy, astrology, magic, and
enchantment. This man found out that the gardener’s son had only
succeeded in marrying the Princess by the help of the genii who obeyed the
bronze ring.
“I will have that ring,” said he to himself. So he went down to the sea-
shore and caught some little red fishes. Really, they were quite wonderfully
pretty. Then he came back, and, passing before the Princess’s window, he
began to cry out:
“Who wants some pretty little red fishes?”
The Princess heard him, and sent out one of her slaves, who said to the
old peddler:
“What will you take for your fish?”
“A bronze ring.”
“A bronze ring, old simpleton! And where shall I find one?”
“Under the cushion in the Princess’s room.”
The slave went back to her mistress.
“The old madman will take neither gold nor silver,” said she.

“What does he want then?”
“A bronze ring that is hidden under a cushion.”
“Find the ring and give it to him,” said the Princess.
And at last the slave found the bronze ring, which the captain of the
golden ship had accidentally left behind and carried it to the man, who
made off with it instantly.
Hardly had he reached his own house when, taking the ring, he said,
“Bronze ring, obey thy master. I desire that the golden ship shall turn to
black wood, and the crew to hideous negroes; that St. Nicholas shall leave
the helm and that the only cargo shall be black cats.”
And the genii of the bronze ring obeyed him.
Finding himself upon the sea in this miserable condition, the young
captain understood that some one must have stolen the bronze ring from
him, and he lamented his misfortune loudly; but that did him no good.
“Alas!” he said to himself, “whoever has taken my ring has probably
taken my dear wife also. What good will it do me to go back to my own
country?” And he sailed about from island to island, and from shore to
shore, believing that wherever he went everybody was laughing at him, and
very soon his poverty was so great that he and his crew and the poor black
cats had nothing to eat but herbs and roots. After wandering about a long
time he reached an island inhabited by mice. The captain landed upon the
shore and began to explore the country. There were mice everywhere, and
nothing but mice. Some of the black cats had followed him, and, not having
been fed for several days, they were fearfully hungry, and made terrible
havoc among the mice.
Then the queen of the mice held a council.
“These cats will eat every one of us,” she said, “if the captain of the ship
does not shut the ferocious animals up. Let us send a deputation to him of
the bravest among us.”
Several mice offered themselves for this mission and set out to find the
young captain.
“Captain,” said they, “go away quickly from our island, or we shall
perish, every mouse of us.”

“Willingly,” replied the young captain, “upon one condition. That is that
you shall first bring me back a bronze ring which some clever magician has
stolen from me. If you do not do this I will land all my cats upon your
island, and you shall be exterminated.”
The mice withdrew in great dismay. “What is to be done?” said the
Queen. “How can we find this bronze ring?” She held a new council,
calling in mice from every quarter of the globe, but nobody knew where the
bronze ring was. Suddenly three mice arrived from a very distant country.
One was blind, the second lame, and the third had her ears cropped.
“Ho, ho, ho!” said the new-comers. “We come from a far distant
country.”
“Do you know where the bronze ring is which the genii obey?”
“Ho, ho, ho! we know; an old sorcerer has taken possession of it, and
now he keeps it in his pocket by day and in his mouth by night.”
“Go and take it from him, and come back as soon as possible.”
So the three mice made themselves a boat and set sail for the magician’s
country. When they reached the capital they landed and ran to the palace,
leaving only the blind mouse on the shore to take care of the boat. Then
they waited till it was night. The wicked old man lay down in bed and put
the bronze ring into his mouth, and very soon he was asleep.
“Now, what shall we do?” said the two little animals to each other.
The mouse with the cropped ears found a lamp full of oil and a bottle full
of pepper. So she dipped her tail first in the oil and then in the pepper, and
held it to the sorcerer’s nose.
“Atisha! atisha!” sneezed the old man, but he did not wake, and the shock
made the bronze ring jump out of his mouth. Quick as thought the lame
mouse snatched up the precious talisman and carried it off to the boat.
Imagine the despair of the magician when he awoke and the bronze ring
was nowhere to be found!
But by that time our three mice had set sail with their prize. A favoring
breeze was carrying them toward the island where the queen of the mice
was awaiting them. Naturally they began to talk about the bronze ring.
“Which of us deserves the most credit?” they cried all at once.

“I do,” said the blind mouse, “for without my watchfulness our boat
would have drifted away to the open sea.”
“No, indeed,” cried the mouse with the cropped ears; “the credit is mine.
Did I not cause the ring to jump out of the man’s mouth?”
“No, it is mine,” cried the lame one, “for I ran off with the ring.”
And from high words they soon came to blows, and, alas! when the
quarrel was fiercest the bronze ring fell into the sea.
“How are we to face our queen,” said the three mice “when by our folly
we have lost the talisman and condemned our people to be utterly
exterminated? We cannot go back to our country; let us land on this desert
island and there end our miserable lives.” No sooner said than done. The
boat reached the island, and the mice landed.
The blind mouse was speedily deserted by her two sisters, who went off
to hunt flies, but as she wandered sadly along the shore she found a dead
fish, and was eating it, when she felt something very hard. At her cries the
other two mice ran up.
“It is the bronze ring! It is the talisman!” they cried joyfully, and, getting
into their boat again, they soon reached the mouse island. It was time they
did, for the captain was just going to land his cargo of cats, when a
deputation of mice brought him the precious bronze ring.
“Bronze ring,” commanded the young man, “obey thy master. Let my
ship appear as it was before.”
Immediately the genii of the ring set to work, and the old black vessel
became once more the wonderful golden ship with sails of brocade; the
handsome sailors ran to the silver masts and the silken ropes, and very soon
they set sail for the capital.
Ah! how merrily the sailors sang as they flew over the glassy sea!
At last the port was reached.
The captain landed and ran to the palace, where he found the wicked old
man asleep. The Princess clasped her husband in a long embrace. The
magician tried to escape, but he was seized and bound with strong cords.
The next day the sorcerer, tied to the tail of a savage mule loaded with
nuts, was broken into as many pieces as there were nuts upon the mule’s
back.(1)

(1) Traditions Populaires de l’Asie Mineure. Carnoy et Nicolaides. Paris:
Maisonneuve, 1889.

PRINCE HYACINTH AND THE DEAR LITTLE
PRINCESS
Once upon a time there lived a king who was deeply in love with a
princess, but she could not marry anyone, because she was under an
enchantment. So the King set out to seek a fairy, and asked what he could
do to win the Princess’s love. The Fairy said to him:
“You know that the Princess has a great cat which she is very fond of.
Whoever is clever enough to tread on that cat’s tail is the man she is
destined to marry.”
The King said to himself that this would not be very difficult, and he left
the Fairy, determined to grind the cat’s tail to powder rather than not tread
on it at all.
You may imagine that it was not long before he went to see the Princess,
and puss, as usual, marched in before him, arching his back. The King took
a long step, and quite thought he had the tail under his foot, but the cat
turned round so sharply that he only trod on air. And so it went on for eight
days, till the King began to think that this fatal tail must be full of
quicksilver—it was never still for a moment.
At last, however, he was lucky enough to come upon puss fast asleep and
with his tail conveniently spread out. So the King, without losing a moment,
set his foot upon it heavily.
With one terrific yell the cat sprang up and instantly changed into a tall
man, who, fixing his angry eyes upon the King, said:
“You shall marry the Princess because you have been able to break the
enchantment, but I will have my revenge. You shall have a son, who will
never be happy until he finds out that his nose is too long, and if you ever
tell anyone what I have just said to you, you shall vanish away instantly,
and no one shall ever see you or hear of you again.”
Though the King was horribly afraid of the enchanter, he could not help
laughing at this threat.

“If my son has such a long nose as that,” he said to himself, “he must
always see it or feel it; at least, if he is not blind or without hands.”
But, as the enchanter had vanished, he did not waste any more time in
thinking, but went to seek the Princess, who very soon consented to marry
him. But after all, they had not been married very long when the King died,
and the Queen had nothing left to care for but her little son, who was called
Hyacinth. The little Prince had large blue eyes, the prettiest eyes in the
world, and a sweet little mouth, but, alas! his nose was so enormous that it
covered half his face. The Queen was inconsolable when she saw this great
nose, but her ladies assured her that it was not really as large as it looked;
that it was a Roman nose, and you had only to open any history to see that
every hero has a large nose. The Queen, who was devoted to her baby, was
pleased with what they told her, and when she looked at Hyacinth again, his
nose certainly did not seem to her quite so large.
The Prince was brought up with great care; and, as soon as he could
speak, they told him all sorts of dreadful stories about people who had short
noses. No one was allowed to come near him whose nose did not more or
less resemble his own, and the courtiers, to get into favor with the Queen,
took to pulling their babies’ noses several times every day to make them
grow long. But, do what they would, they were nothing by comparison with
the Prince’s.
When he grew sensible he learned history; and whenever any great prince
or beautiful princess was spoken of, his teachers took care to tell him that
they had long noses.
His room was hung with pictures, all of people with very large noses; and
the Prince grew up so convinced that a long nose was a great beauty, that he
would not on any account have had his own a single inch shorter!
When his twentieth birthday was passed the Queen thought it was time
that he should be married, so she commanded that the portraits of several
princesses should be brought for him to see, and among the others was a
picture of the Dear Little Princess!
Now, she was the daughter of a great king, and would some day possess
several kingdoms herself; but Prince Hyacinth had not a thought to spare
for anything of that sort, he was so much struck with her beauty. The
Princess, whom he thought quite charming, had, however, a little saucy
nose, which, in her face, was the prettiest thing possible, but it was a cause

of great embarrassment to the courtiers, who had got into such a habit of
laughing at little noses that they sometimes found themselves laughing at
hers before they had time to think; but this did not do at all before the
Prince, who quite failed to see the joke, and actually banished two of his
courtiers who had dared to mention disrespectfully the Dear Little
Princess’s tiny nose!
The others, taking warning from this, learned to think twice before they
spoke, and one even went so far as to tell the Prince that, though it was
quite true that no man could be worth anything unless he had a long nose,
still, a woman’s beauty was a different thing; and he knew a learned man
who understood Greek and had read in some old manuscripts that the
beautiful Cleopatra herself had a “tip-tilted” nose!
The Prince made him a splendid present as a reward for this good news,
and at once sent ambassadors to ask the Dear Little Princess in marriage.
The King, her father, gave his consent; and Prince Hyacinth, who, in his
anxiety to see the Princess, had gone three leagues to meet her was just
advancing to kiss her hand when, to the horror of all who stood by, the
enchanter appeared as suddenly as a flash of lightning, and, snatching up
the Dear Little Princess, whirled her away out of their sight!
The Prince was left quite unconsolable, and declared that nothing should
induce him to go back to his kingdom until he had found her again, and
refusing to allow any of his courtiers to follow him, he mounted his horse
and rode sadly away, letting the animal choose his own path.
So it happened that he came presently to a great plain, across which he
rode all day long without seeing a single house, and horse and rider were
terribly hungry, when, as the night fell, the Prince caught sight of a light,
which seemed to shine from a cavern.
He rode up to it, and saw a little old woman, who appeared to be at least
a hundred years old.
She put on her spectacles to look at Prince Hyacinth, but it was quite a
long time before she could fix them securely because her nose was so very
short.
The Prince and the Fairy (for that was who she was) had no sooner
looked at one another than they went into fits of laughter, and cried at the
same moment, “Oh, what a funny nose!”

“Not so funny as your own,” said Prince Hyacinth to the Fairy; “but,
madam, I beg you to leave the consideration of our noses—such as they are
—and to be good enough to give me something to eat, for I am starving,
and so is my poor horse.”
“With all my heart,” said the Fairy. “Though your nose is so ridiculous
you are, nevertheless, the son of my best friend. I loved your father as if he
had been my brother. Now he had a very handsome nose!”
“And pray what does mine lack?” said the Prince.
“Oh! it doesn’t lack anything,” replied the Fairy. “On the contrary quite,
there is only too much of it. But never mind, one may be a very worthy man
though his nose is too long. I was telling you that I was your father’s friend;
he often came to see me in the old times, and you must know that I was
very pretty in those days; at least, he used to say so. I should like to tell you
of a conversation we had the last time I ever saw him.”
“Indeed,” said the Prince, “when I have supped it will give me the
greatest pleasure to hear it; but consider, madam, I beg of you, that I have
had nothing to eat to-day.”
“The poor boy is right,” said the Fairy; “I was forgetting. Come in, then,
and I will give you some supper, and while you are eating I can tell you my
story in a very few words—for I don’t like endless tales myself. Too long a
tongue is worse than too long a nose, and I remember when I was young
that I was so much admired for not being a great chatterer. They used to tell
the Queen, my mother, that it was so. For though you see what I am now, I
was the daughter of a great king. My father——”
“Your father, I dare say, got something to eat when he was hungry!”
interrupted the Prince.
“Oh! certainly,” answered the Fairy, “and you also shall have supper
directly. I only just wanted to tell you——”
“But I really cannot listen to anything until I have had something to eat,”
cried the Prince, who was getting quite angry; but then, remembering that
he had better be polite as he much needed the Fairy’s help, he added:
“I know that in the pleasure of listening to you I should quite forget my
own hunger; but my horse, who cannot hear you, must really be fed!”
The Fairy was very much flattered by this compliment, and said, calling
to her servants:

“You shall not wait another minute, you are so polite, and in spite of the
enormous size of your nose you are really very agreeable.”
“Plague take the old lady! How she does go on about my nose!” said the
Prince to himself. “One would almost think that mine had taken all the extra
length that hers lacks! If I were not so hungry I would soon have done with
this chatterpie who thinks she talks very little! How stupid people are not to
see their own faults! That comes of being a princess: she has been spoiled
by flatterers, who have made her believe that she is quite a moderate
talker!”
Meanwhile the servants were putting the supper on the table, and the
prince was much amused to hear the Fairy who asked them a thousand
questions simply for the pleasure of hearing herself speak; especially he
noticed one maid who, no matter what was being said, always contrived to
praise her mistress’s wisdom.
“Well!” he thought, as he ate his supper, “I’m very glad I came here. This
just shows me how sensible I have been in never listening to flatterers.
People of that sort praise us to our faces without shame, and hide our faults
or change them into virtues. For my part I never will be taken in by them. I
know my own defects, I hope.”
Poor Prince Hyacinth! He really believed what he said, and hadn’t an
idea that the people who had praised his nose were laughing at him, just as
the Fairy’s maid was laughing at her; for the Prince had seen her laugh slyly
when she could do so without the Fairy’s noticing her.
However, he said nothing, and presently, when his hunger began to be
appeased, the Fairy said:
“My dear Prince, might I beg you to move a little more that way, for your
nose casts such a shadow that I really cannot see what I have on my plate.
Ah! thanks. Now let us speak of your father. When I went to his Court he
was only a little boy, but that is forty years ago, and I have been in this
desolate place ever since. Tell me what goes on nowadays; are the ladies as
fond of amusement as ever? In my time one saw them at parties, theatres,
balls, and promenades every day. Dear me! what a long nose you have! I
cannot get used to it!”
“Really, madam,” said the Prince, “I wish you would leave off
mentioning my nose. It cannot matter to you what it is like. I am quite

satisfied with it, and have no wish to have it shorter. One must take what is
given one.”
“Now you are angry with me, my poor Hyacinth,” said the Fairy, “and I
assure you that I didn’t mean to vex you; on the contrary, I wished to do
you a service. However, though I really cannot help your nose being a
shock to me, I will try not to say anything about it. I will even try to think
that you have an ordinary nose. To tell the truth, it would make three
reasonable ones.”
The Prince, who was no longer hungry, grew so impatient at the Fairy’s
continual remarks about his nose that at last he threw himself upon his
horse and rode hastily away. But wherever he came in his journeyings he
thought the people were mad, for they all talked of his nose, and yet he
could not bring himself to admit that it was too long, he had been so used
all his life to hear it called handsome.
The old Fairy, who wished to make him happy, at last hit upon a plan.
She shut the Dear Little Princess up in a palace of crystal, and put this
palace down where the Prince would not fail to find it. His joy at seeing the
Princess again was extreme, and he set to work with all his might to try to
break her prison; but in spite of all his efforts he failed utterly. In despair he
thought at least that he would try to get near enough to speak to the Dear
Little Princess, who, on her part, stretched out her hand that he might kiss
it; but turn which way he might, he never could raise it to his lips, for his
long nose always prevented it. For the first time he realized how long it
really was, and exclaimed:
“Well, it must be admitted that my nose is too long!”
In an instant the crystal prison flew into a thousand splinters, and the old
Fairy, taking the Dear Little Princess by the hand, said to the Prince:
“Now, say if you are not very much obliged to me. Much good it was for
me to talk to you about your nose! You would never have found out how
extraordinary it was if it hadn’t hindered you from doing what you wanted
to. You see how self-love keeps us from knowing our own defects of mind
and body. Our reason tries in vain to show them to us; we refuse to see them
till we find them in the way of our interests.”
Prince Hyacinth, whose nose was now just like anyone’s else, did not fail
to profit by the lesson he had received. He married the Dear Little Princess,
and they lived happily ever after.(1)

(1) Le Prince Desir et la Princesse Mignonne. Par Madame Leprince de
Beaumont.

EAST OF THE SUN AND WEST OF THE
MOON
Once upon a time there was a poor husbandman who had many children
and little to give them in the way either of food or clothing. They were all
pretty, but the prettiest of all was the youngest daughter, who was so
beautiful that there were no bounds to her beauty.
So once—it was late on a Thursday evening in autumn, and wild weather
outside, terribly dark, and raining so heavily and blowing so hard that the
walls of the cottage shook again—they were all sitting together by the
fireside, each of them busy with something or other, when suddenly some
one rapped three times against the window-pane. The man went out to see
what could be the matter, and when he got out there stood a great big white
bear.
“Good-evening to you,” said the White Bear.
“Good-evening,” said the man.
“Will you give me your youngest daughter?” said the White Bear; “if you
will, you shall be as rich as you are now poor.”
Truly the man would have had no objection to be rich, but he thought to
himself: “I must first ask my daughter about this,” so he went in and told
them that there was a great white bear outside who had faithfully promised
to make them all rich if he might but have the youngest daughter.
She said no, and would not hear of it; so the man went out again, and
settled with the White Bear that he should come again next Thursday
evening, and get her answer. Then the man persuaded her, and talked so
much to her about the wealth that they would have, and what a good thing it
would be for herself, that at last she made up her mind to go, and washed
and mended all her rags, made herself as smart as she could, and held
herself in readiness to set out. Little enough had she to take away with her.
Next Thursday evening the White Bear came to fetch her. She seated
herself on his back with her bundle, and thus they departed. When they had
gone a great part of the way, the White Bear said: “Are you afraid?”

“No, that I am not,” said she.
“Keep tight hold of my fur, and then there is no danger,” said he.
And thus she rode far, far away, until they came to a great mountain.
Then the White Bear knocked on it, and a door opened, and they went into a
castle where there were many brilliantly lighted rooms which shone with
gold and silver, likewise a large hall in which there was a well-spread table,
and it was so magnificent that it would be hard to make anyone understand
how splendid it was. The White Bear gave her a silver bell, and told her that
when she needed anything she had but to ring this bell, and what she
wanted would appear. So after she had eaten, and night was drawing near,
she grew sleepy after her journey, and thought she would like to go to bed.
She rang the bell, and scarcely had she touched it before she found herself
in a chamber where a bed stood ready made for her, which was as pretty as
anyone could wish to sleep in. It had pillows of silk, and curtains of silk
fringed with gold, and everything that was in the room was of gold or silver,
but when she had lain down and put out the light a man came and lay down
beside her, and behold it was the White Bear, who cast off the form of a
beast during the night. She never saw him, however, for he always came
after she had put out her light, and went away before daylight appeared.
So all went well and happily for a time, but then she began to be very sad
and sorrowful, for all day long she had to go about alone; and she did so
wish to go home to her father and mother and brothers and sisters. Then the
White Bear asked what it was that she wanted, and she told him that it was
so dull there in the mountain, and that she had to go about all alone, and
that in her parents’ house at home there were all her brothers and sisters,
and it was because she could not go to them that she was so sorrowful.
“There might be a cure for that,” said the White Bear, “if you would but
promise me never to talk with your mother alone, but only when the others
are there too; for she will take hold of your hand,” he said, “and will want
to lead you into a room to talk with you alone; but that you must by no
means do, or you will bring great misery on both of us.”
So one Sunday the White Bear came and said that they could now set out
to see her father and mother, and they journeyed thither, she sitting on his
back, and they went a long, long way, and it took a long, long time; but at
last they came to a large white farmhouse, and her brothers and sisters were

running about outside it, playing, and it was so pretty that it was a pleasure
to look at it.
“Your parents dwell here now,” said the White Bear; “but do not forget
what I said to you, or you will do much harm both to yourself and me.”
“No, indeed,” said she, “I shall never forget;” and as soon as she was at
home the White Bear turned round and went back again.
There were such rejoicings when she went in to her parents that it seemed
as if they would never come to an end. Everyone thought that he could
never be sufficiently grateful to her for all she had done for them all. Now
they had everything that they wanted, and everything was as good as it
could be. They all asked her how she was getting on where she was. All was
well with her too, she said; and she had everything that she could want.
What other answers she gave I cannot say, but I am pretty sure that they did
not learn much from her. But in the afternoon, after they had dined at
midday, all happened just as the White Bear had said. Her mother wanted to
talk with her alone in her own chamber. But she remembered what the
White Bear had said, and would on no account go. “What we have to say
can be said at any time,” she answered. But somehow or other her mother at
last persuaded her, and she was forced to tell the whole story. So she told
how every night a man came and lay down beside her when the lights were
all put out, and how she never saw him, because he always went away
before it grew light in the morning, and how she continually went about in
sadness, thinking how happy she would be if she could but see him, and
how all day long she had to go about alone, and it was so dull and solitary.
“Oh!” cried the mother, in horror, “you are very likely sleeping with a troll!
But I will teach you a way to see him. You shall have a bit of one of my
candles, which you can take away with you hidden in your breast. Look at
him with that when he is asleep, but take care not to let any tallow drop
upon him.”
So she took the candle, and hid it in her breast, and when evening drew
near the White Bear came to fetch her away. When they had gone some
distance on their way, the White Bear asked her if everything had not
happened just as he had foretold, and she could not but own that it had.
“Then, if you have done what your mother wished,” said he, “you have
brought great misery on both of us.” “No,” she said, “I have not done
anything at all.” So when she had reached home and had gone to bed it was

just the same as it had been before, and a man came and lay down beside
her, and late at night, when she could hear that he was sleeping, she got up
and kindled a light, lit her candle, let her light shine on him, and saw him,
and he was the handsomest prince that eyes had ever beheld, and she loved
him so much that it seemed to her that she must die if she did not kiss him
that very moment. So she did kiss him; but while she was doing it she let
three drops of hot tallow fall upon his shirt, and he awoke. “What have you
done now?” said he; “you have brought misery on both of us. If you had but
held out for the space of one year I should have been free. I have a step-
mother who has bewitched me so that I am a white bear by day and a man
by night; but now all is at an end between you and me, and I must leave
you, and go to her. She lives in a castle which lies east of the sun and west
of the moon, and there too is a princess with a nose which is three ells long,
and she now is the one whom I must marry.”
She wept and lamented, but all in vain, for go he must. Then she asked
him if she could not go with him. But no, that could not be. “Can you tell
me the way then, and I will seek you—that I may surely be allowed to do!”
“Yes, you may do that,” said he; “but there is no way thither. It lies east
of the sun and west of the moon, and never would you find your way there.”
When she awoke in the morning both the Prince and the castle were
gone, and she was lying on a small green patch in the midst of a dark, thick
wood. By her side lay the self-same bundle of rags which she had brought
with her from her own home. So when she had rubbed the sleep out of her
eyes, and wept till she was weary, she set out on her way, and thus she
walked for many and many a long day, until at last she came to a great
mountain. Outside it an aged woman was sitting, playing with a golden
apple. The girl asked her if she knew the way to the Prince who lived with
his stepmother in the castle which lay east of the sun and west of the moon,
and who was to marry a princess with a nose which was three ells long.
“How do you happen to know about him?” inquired the old woman;
“maybe you are she who ought to have had him.” “Yes, indeed, I am,” she
said. “So it is you, then?” said the old woman; “I know nothing about him
but that he dwells in a castle which is east of the sun and west of the moon.
You will be a long time in getting to it, if ever you get to it at all; but you
shall have the loan of my horse, and then you can ride on it to an old
woman who is a neighbor of mine: perhaps she can tell you about him.

When you have got there you must just strike the horse beneath the left ear
and bid it go home again; but you may take the golden apple with you.”
So the girl seated herself on the horse, and rode for a long, long way, and
at last she came to the mountain, where an aged woman was sitting outside
with a gold carding-comb. The girl asked her if she knew the way to the
castle which lay east of the sun and west of the moon; but she said what the
first old woman had said: “I know nothing about it, but that it is east of the
sun and west of the moon, and that you will be a long time in getting to it, if
ever you get there at all; but you shall have the loan of my horse to an old
woman who lives the nearest to me: perhaps she may know where the castle
is, and when you have got to her you may just strike the horse beneath the
left ear and bid it go home again.” Then she gave her the gold carding-
comb, for it might, perhaps, be of use to her, she said.
So the girl seated herself on the horse, and rode a wearisome long way
onward again, and after a very long time she came to a great mountain,
where an aged woman was sitting, spinning at a golden spinning-wheel. Of
this woman, too, she inquired if she knew the way to the Prince, and where
to find the castle which lay east of the sun and west of the moon. But it was
only the same thing once again. “Maybe it was you who should have had
the Prince,” said the old woman. “Yes, indeed, I should have been the one,”
said the girl. But this old crone knew the way no better than the others—it
was east of the sun and west of the moon, she knew that, “and you will be a
long time in getting to it, if ever you get to it at all,” she said; “but you may
have the loan of my horse, and I think you had better ride to the East Wind,
and ask him: perhaps he may know where the castle is, and will blow you
thither. But when you have got to him you must just strike the horse beneath
the left ear, and he will come home again.” And then she gave her the
golden spinning-wheel, saying: “Perhaps you may find that you have a use
for it.”
The girl had to ride for a great many days, and for a long and wearisome
time, before she got there; but at last she did arrive, and then she asked the
East Wind if he could tell her the way to the Prince who dwelt east of the
sun and west of the moon. “Well,” said the East Wind, “I have heard tell of
the Prince, and of his castle, but I do not know the way to it, for I have
never blown so far; but, if you like, I will go with you to my brother the
West Wind: he may know that, for he is much stronger than I am. You may

sit on my back, and then I can carry you there.” So she seated herself on his
back, and they did go so swiftly! When they got there, the East Wind went
in and said that the girl whom he had brought was the one who ought to
have had the Prince up at the castle which lay east of the sun and west of
the moon, and that now she was traveling about to find him again, so he had
come there with her, and would like to hear if the West Wind knew
whereabout the castle was. “No,” said the West Wind; “so far as that have I
never blown; but if you like I will go with you to the South Wind, for he is
much stronger than either of us, and he has roamed far and wide, and
perhaps he can tell you what you want to know. You may seat yourself on
my back, and then I will carry you to him.”.
So she did this, and journeyed to the South Wind, neither was she very
long on the way. When they had got there, the West Wind asked him if he
could tell her the way to the castle that lay east of the sun and west of the
moon, for she was the girl who ought to marry the Prince who lived there.
“Oh, indeed!” said the South Wind, “is that she? Well,” said he, “I have
wandered about a great deal in my time, and in all kinds of places, but I
have never blown so far as that. If you like, however, I will go with you to
my brother, the North Wind; he is the oldest and strongest of all of us, and if
he does not know where it is no one in the whole world will be able to tell
you. You may sit upon my back, and then I will carry you there.” So she
seated herself on his back, and off he went from his house in great haste,
and they were not long on the way. When they came near the North Wind’s
dwelling, he was so wild and frantic that they felt cold gusts a long while
before they got there. “What do you want?” he roared out from afar, and
they froze as they heard. Said the South Wind: “It is I, and this is she who
should have had the Prince who lives in the castle which lies east of the sun
and west of the moon. And now she wishes to ask you if you have ever been
there, and can tell her the way, for she would gladly find him again.”
“Yes,” said the North Wind, “I know where it is. I once blew an aspen
leaf there, but I was so tired that for many days afterward I was not able to
blow at all. However, if you really are anxious to go there, and are not
afraid to go with me, I will take you on my back, and try if I can blow you
there.”
“Get there I must,” said she; “and if there is any way of going I will; and
I have no fear, no matter how fast you go.”

“Very well then,” said the North Wind; “but you must sleep here to-night,
for if we are ever to get there we must have the day before us.”
The North Wind woke her betimes next morning, and puffed himself up,
and made himself so big and so strong that it was frightful to see him, and
away they went, high up through the air, as if they would not stop until they
had reached the very end of the world. Down below there was such a storm!
It blew down woods and houses, and when they were above the sea the
ships were wrecked by hundreds. And thus they tore on and on, and a long
time went by, and then yet more time passed, and still they were above the
sea, and the North Wind grew tired, and more tired, and at last so utterly
weary that he was scarcely able to blow any longer, and he sank and sank,
lower and lower, until at last he went so low that the waves dashed against
the heels of the poor girl he was carrying. “Art thou afraid?” said the North
Wind. “I have no fear,” said she; and it was true. But they were not very,
very far from land, and there was just enough strength left in the North
Wind to enable him to throw her on to the shore, immediately under the
windows of a castle which lay east of the sun and west of the moon; but
then he was so weary and worn out that he was forced to rest for several
days before he could go to his own home again.
Next morning she sat down beneath the walls of the castle to play with
the golden apple, and the first person she saw was the maiden with the long
nose, who was to have the Prince. “How much do you want for that gold
apple of yours, girl?” said she, opening the window. “It can’t be bought
either for gold or money,” answered the girl. “If it cannot be bought either
for gold or money, what will buy it? You may say what you please,” said
the Princess.
“Well, if I may go to the Prince who is here, and be with him to-night,
you shall have it,” said the girl who had come with the North Wind. “You
may do that,” said the Princess, for she had made up her mind what she
would do. So the Princess got the golden apple, but when the girl went up to
the Prince’s apartment that night he was asleep, for the Princess had so
contrived it. The poor girl called to him, and shook him, and between
whiles she wept; but she could not wake him. In the morning, as soon as
day dawned, in came the Princess with the long nose, and drove her out
again. In the daytime she sat down once more beneath the windows of the
castle, and began to card with her golden carding-comb; and then all

happened as it had happened before. The Princess asked her what she
wanted for it, and she replied that it was not for sale, either for gold or
money, but that if she could get leave to go to the Prince, and be with him
during the night, she should have it. But when she went up to the Prince’s
room he was again asleep, and, let her call him, or shake him, or weep as
she would, he still slept on, and she could not put any life in him. When
daylight came in the morning, the Princess with the long nose came too, and
once more drove her away. When day had quite come, the girl seated
herself under the castle windows, to spin with her golden spinning-wheel,
and the Princess with the long nose wanted to have that also. So she opened
the window, and asked what she would take for it. The girl said what she
had said on each of the former occasions—that it was not for sale either for
gold or for money, but if she could get leave to go to the Prince who lived
there, and be with him during the night, she should have it.
“Yes,” said the Princess, “I will gladly consent to that.”
But in that place there were some Christian folk who had been carried
off, and they had been sitting in the chamber which was next to that of the
Prince, and had heard how a woman had been in there who had wept and
called on him two nights running, and they told the Prince of this. So that
evening, when the Princess came once more with her sleeping-drink, he
pretended to drink, but threw it away behind him, for he suspected that it
was a sleeping-drink. So, when the girl went into the Prince’s room this
time he was awake, and she had to tell him how she had come there. “You
have come just in time,” said the Prince, “for I should have been married to-
morrow; but I will not have the long-nosed Princess, and you alone can
save me. I will say that I want to see what my bride can do, and bid her
wash the shirt which has the three drops of tallow on it. This she will
consent to do, for she does not know that it is you who let them fall on it;
but no one can wash them out but one born of Christian folk: it cannot be
done by one of a pack of trolls; and then I will say that no one shall ever be
my bride but the woman who can do this, and I know that you can.” There
was great joy and gladness between them all that night, but the next day,
when the wedding was to take place, the Prince said, “I must see what my
bride can do.” “That you may do,” said the stepmother.
“I have a fine shirt which I want to wear as my wedding shirt, but three
drops of tallow have got upon it which I want to have washed off, and I

have vowed to marry no one but the woman who is able to do it. If she
cannot do that, she is not worth having.”
Well, that was a very small matter, they thought, and agreed to do it. The
Princess with the long nose began to wash as well as she could, but, the
more she washed and rubbed, the larger the spots grew. “Ah! you can’t
wash at all,” said the old troll-hag, who was her mother. “Give it to me.”
But she too had not had the shirt very long in her hands before it looked
worse still, and, the more she washed it and rubbed it, the larger and blacker
grew the spots.
So the other trolls had to come and wash, but, the more they did, the
blacker and uglier grew the shirt, until at length it was as black as if it had
been up the chimney. “Oh,” cried the Prince, “not one of you is good for
anything at all! There is a beggar-girl sitting outside the window, and I’ll be
bound that she can wash better than any of you! Come in, you girl there!”
he cried. So she came in. “Can you wash this shirt clean?” he cried. “Oh! I
don’t know,” she said; “but I will try.” And no sooner had she taken the
shirt and dipped it in the water than it was white as driven snow, and even
whiter than that. “I will marry you,” said the Prince.
Then the old troll-hag flew into such a rage that she burst, and the
Princess with the long nose and all the little trolls must have burst too, for
they have never been heard of since. The Prince and his bride set free all the
Christian folk who were imprisoned there, and took away with them all the
gold and silver that they could carry, and moved far away from the castle
which lay east of the sun and west of the moon.(1)
(1) Asbjornsen and Moe.

THE YELLOW DWARF
Once upon a time there lived a queen who had been the mother of a great
many children, and of them all only one daughter was left. But then she was
worth at least a thousand.
Her mother, who, since the death of the King, her father, had nothing in
the world she cared for so much as this little Princess, was so terribly afraid
of losing her that she quite spoiled her, and never tried to correct any of her
faults. The consequence was that this little person, who was as pretty as
possible, and was one day to wear a crown, grew up so proud and so much
in love with her own beauty that she despised everyone else in the world.
The Queen, her mother, by her caresses and flatteries, helped to make her
believe that there was nothing too good for her. She was dressed almost
always in the prettiest frocks, as a fairy, or as a queen going out to hunt, and
the ladies of the Court followed her dressed as forest fairies.
And to make her more vain than ever the Queen caused her portrait to be
taken by the cleverest painters and sent it to several neighboring kings with
whom she was very friendly.
When they saw this portrait they fell in love with the Princess—every
one of them, but upon each it had a different effect. One fell ill, one went
quite crazy, and a few of the luckiest set off to see her as soon as possible,
but these poor princes became her slaves the moment they set eyes on her.
Never has there been a gayer Court. Twenty delightful kings did
everything they could think of to make themselves agreeable, and after
having spent ever so much money in giving a single entertainment thought
themselves very lucky if the Princess said “That’s pretty.”
All this admiration vastly pleased the Queen. Not a day passed but she
received seven or eight thousand sonnets, and as many elegies, madrigals,
and songs, which were sent her by all the poets in the world. All the prose
and the poetry that was written just then was about Bellissima—for that was
the Princess’s name—and all the bonfires that they had were made of these
verses, which crackled and sparkled better than any other sort of wood.

Bellissima was already fifteen years old, and every one of the Princes
wished to marry her, but not one dared to say so. How could they when they
knew that any of them might have cut off his head five or six times a day
just to please her, and she would have thought it a mere trifle, so little did
she care? You may imagine how hard-hearted her lovers thought her; and
the Queen, who wished to see her married, did not know how to persuade
her to think of it seriously.
“Bellissima,” she said, “I do wish you would not be so proud. What
makes you despise all these nice kings? I wish you to marry one of them,
and you do not try to please me.”
“I am so happy,” Bellissima answered: “do leave me in peace, madam. I
don’t want to care for anyone.”
“But you would be very happy with any of these Princes,” said the
Queen, “and I shall be very angry if you fall in love with anyone who is not
worthy of you.”
But the Princess thought so much of herself that she did not consider any
one of her lovers clever or handsome enough for her; and her mother, who
was getting really angry at her determination not to be married, began to
wish that she had not allowed her to have her own way so much.
At last, not knowing what else to do, she resolved to consult a certain
witch who was called “The Fairy of the Desert.” Now this was very difficult
to do, as she was guarded by some terrible lions; but happily the Queen had
heard a long time before that whoever wanted to pass these lions safely
must throw to them a cake made of millet flour, sugar-candy, and
crocodile’s eggs. This cake she prepared with her own hands, and putting it
in a little basket, she set out to seek the Fairy. But as she was not used to
walking far, she soon felt very tired and sat down at the foot of a tree to rest,
and presently fell fast asleep. When she awoke she was dismayed to find
her basket empty. The cake was all gone! and, to make matters worse, at
that moment she heard the roaring of the great lions, who had found out that
she was near and were coming to look for her.
“What shall I do?” she cried; “I shall be eaten up,” and being too
frightened to run a single step, she began to cry, and leaned against the tree
under which she had been asleep.
Just then she heard some one say: “H’m, h’m!”

She looked all round her, and then up the tree, and there she saw a little
tiny man, who was eating oranges.
“Oh! Queen,” said he, “I know you very well, and I know how much
afraid you are of the lions; and you are quite right too, for they have eaten
many other people: and what can you expect, as you have not any cake to
give them?”
“I must make up my mind to die,” said the poor Queen. “Alas! I should
not care so much if only my dear daughter were married.”
“Oh! you have a daughter,” cried the Yellow Dwarf (who was so called
because he was a dwarf and had such a yellow face, and lived in the orange
tree). “I’m really glad to hear that, for I’ve been looking for a wife all over
the world. Now, if you will promise that she shall marry me, not one of the
lions, tigers, or bears shall touch you.”
The Queen looked at him and was almost as much afraid of his ugly little
face as she had been of the lions before, so that she could not speak a word.
“What! you hesitate, madam,” cried the Dwarf. “You must be very fond
of being eaten up alive.”
And, as he spoke, the Queen saw the lions, which were running down a
hill toward them.
Each one had two heads, eight feet, and four rows of teeth, and their
skins were as hard as turtle shells, and were bright red.
At this dreadful sight, the poor Queen, who was trembling like a dove
when it sees a hawk, cried out as loud as she could, “Oh! dear Mr. Dwarf,
Bellissima shall marry you.”
“Oh, indeed!” said he disdainfully. “Bellissima is pretty enough, but I
don’t particularly want to marry her—you can keep her.”
“Oh! noble sir,” said the Queen in great distress, “do not refuse her. She
is the most charming Princess in the world.”
“Oh! well,” he replied, “out of charity I will take her; but be sure and
don’t forget that she is mine.”
As he spoke a little door opened in the trunk of the orange tree, in rushed
the Queen, only just in time, and the door shut with a bang in the faces of
the lions.

The Queen was so confused that at first she did not notice another little
door in the orange tree, but presently it opened and she found herself in a
field of thistles and nettles. It was encircled by a muddy ditch, and a little
further on was a tiny thatched cottage, out of which came the Yellow Dwarf
with a very jaunty air. He wore wooden shoes and a little yellow coat, and
as he had no hair and very long ears he looked altogether a shocking little
object.
“I am delighted,” said he to the Queen, “that, as you are to be my mother-
in-law, you should see the little house in which your Bellissima will live
with me. With these thistles and nettles she can feed a donkey which she
can ride whenever she likes; under this humble roof no weather can hurt
her; she will drink the water of this brook and eat frogs—which grow very
fat about here; and then she will have me always with her, handsome,
agreeable, and gay as you see me now. For if her shadow stays by her more
closely than I do I shall be surprised.”
The unhappy Queen, seeing all at once what a miserable life her daughter
would have with this Dwarf could not bear the idea, and fell down
insensible without saying a word.
When she revived she found to her great surprise that she was lying in
her own bed at home, and, what was more, that she had on the loveliest lace
night cap that she had ever seen in her life. At first she thought that all her
adventures, the terrible lions, and her promise to the Yellow Dwarf that he
should marry Bellissima, must have been a dream, but there was the new
cap with its beautiful ribbon and lace to remind her that it was all true,
which made her so unhappy that she could neither eat, drink, nor sleep for
thinking of it.
The Princess, who, in spite of her wilfulness, really loved her mother
with all her heart, was much grieved when she saw her looking so sad, and
often asked her what was the matter; but the Queen, who didn’t want her to
find out the truth, only said that she was ill, or that one of her neighbors was
threatening to make war against her. Bellissima knew quite well that
something was being hidden from her—and that neither of these was the
real reason of the Queen’s uneasiness. So she made up her mind that she
would go and consult the Fairy of the Desert about it, especially as she had
often heard how wise she was, and she thought that at the same time she
might ask her advice as to whether it would be as well to be married, or not.

So, with great care, she made some of the proper cake to pacify the lions,
and one night went up to her room very early, pretending that she was going
to bed; but instead of that, she wrapped herself in a long white veil, and
went down a secret staircase, and set off all by herself to find the Witch.
But when she got as far as the same fatal orange tree, and saw it covered
with flowers and fruit, she stopped and began to gather some of the oranges
—and then, putting down her basket, she sat down to eat them. But when it
was time to go on again the basket had disappeared and, though she looked
everywhere, not a trace of it could she find. The more she hunted for it, the
more frightened she got, and at last she began to cry. Then all at once she
saw before her the Yellow Dwarf.
“What’s the matter with you, my pretty one?” said he. “What are you
crying about?”
“Alas!” she answered; “no wonder that I am crying, seeing that I have
lost the basket of cake that was to help me to get safely to the cave of the
Fairy of the Desert.”
“And what do you want with her, pretty one?” said the little monster, “for
I am a friend of hers, and, for the matter of that, I am quite as clever as she
is.”
“The Queen, my mother,” replied the Princess, “has lately fallen into
such deep sadness that I fear that she will die; and I am afraid that perhaps I
am the cause of it, for she very much wishes me to be married, and I must
tell you truly that as yet I have not found anyone I consider worthy to be my
husband. So for all these reasons I wished to talk to the Fairy.”
“Do not give yourself any further trouble, Princess,” answered the Dwarf.
“I can tell you all you want to know better than she could. The Queen, your
mother, has promised you in marriage——”
“Has promised me!” interrupted the Princess. “Oh! no. I’m sure she has
not. She would have told me if she had. I am too much interested in the
matter for her to promise anything without my consent—you must be
mistaken.”
“Beautiful Princess,” cried the Dwarf suddenly, throwing himself on his
knees before her, “I flatter myself that you will not be displeased at her
choice when I tell you that it is to me she has promised the happiness of
marrying you.”

“You!” cried Bellissima, starting back. “My mother wishes me to marry
you! How can you be so silly as to think of such a thing?”
“Oh! it isn’t that I care much to have that honor,” cried the Dwarf
angrily; “but here are the lions coming; they’ll eat you up in three
mouthfuls, and there will be an end of you and your pride.”
And, indeed, at that moment the poor Princess heard their dreadful howls
coming nearer and nearer.
“What shall I do?” she cried. “Must all my happy days come to an end
like this?”
The malicious Dwarf looked at her and began to laugh spitefully. “At
least,” said he, “you have the satisfaction of dying unmarried. A lovely
Princess like you must surely prefer to die rather than be the wife of a poor
little dwarf like myself.”
“Oh, don’t be angry with me,” cried the Princess, clasping her hands. “I’d
rather marry all the dwarfs in the world than die in this horrible way.”
“Look at me well, Princess, before you give me your word,” said he. “I
don’t want you to promise me in a hurry.”
“Oh!” cried she, “the lions are coming. I have looked at you enough. I am
so frightened. Save me this minute, or I shall die of terror.”
Indeed, as she spoke she fell down insensible, and when she recovered
she found herself in her own little bed at home; how she got there she could
not tell, but she was dressed in the most beautiful lace and ribbons, and on
her finger was a little ring, made of a single red hair, which fitted so tightly
that, try as she might, she could not get it off.
When the Princess saw all these things, and remembered what had
happened, she, too, fell into the deepest sadness, which surprised and
alarmed the whole Court, and the Queen more than anyone else. A hundred
times she asked Bellissima if anything was the matter with her; but she
always said that there was nothing.
At last the chief men of the kingdom, anxious to see their Princess
married, sent to the Queen to beg her to choose a husband for her as soon as
possible. She replied that nothing would please her better, but that her
daughter seemed so unwilling to marry, and she recommended them to go
and talk to the Princess about it themselves so this they at once did. Now
Bellissima was much less proud since her adventure with the Yellow Dwarf,

and she could not think of a better way of getting rid of the little monster
than to marry some powerful king, therefore she replied to their request
much more favorably than they had hoped, saying that, though she was very
happy as she was, still, to please them, she would consent to marry the King
of the Gold Mines. Now he was a very handsome and powerful Prince, who
had been in love with the Princess for years, but had not thought that she
would ever care about him at all. You can easily imagine how delighted he
was when he heard the news, and how angry it made all the other kings to
lose for ever the hope of marrying the Princess; but, after all, Bellissima
could not have married twenty kings—indeed, she had found it quite
difficult enough to choose one, for her vanity made her believe that there
was nobody in the world who was worthy of her.
Preparations were begun at once for the grandest wedding that had ever
been held at the palace. The King of the Gold Mines sent such immense
sums of money that the whole sea was covered with the ships that brought
it. Messengers were sent to all the gayest and most refined Courts,
particularly to the Court of France, to seek out everything rare and precious
to adorn the Princess, although her beauty was so perfect that nothing she
wore could make her look prettier. At least that is what the King of the Gold
Mines thought, and he was never happy unless he was with her.
As for the Princess, the more she saw of the King the more she liked him;
he was so generous, so handsome and clever, that at last she was almost as
much in love with him as he was with her. How happy they were as they
wandered about in the beautiful gardens together, sometimes listening to
sweet music! And the King used to write songs for Bellissima. This is one
that she liked very much:
In the forest all is gay
When my Princess walks that way.
All the blossoms then are found
Downward fluttering to the ground,
Hoping she may tread on them.
And bright flowers on slender stem
Gaze up at her as she passes
Brushing lightly through the grasses.
Oh! my Princess, birds above
Echo back our songs of love,
As through this enchanted land
Blithe we wander, hand in hand.

They really were as happy as the day was long. All the King’s
unsuccessful rivals had gone home in despair. They said good-by to the

Princess so sadly that she could not help being sorry for them.
“Ah! madam,” the King of the Gold Mines said to her “how is this? Why
do you waste your pity on these princes, who love you so much that all their
trouble would be well repaid by a single smile from you?”
“I should be sorry,” answered Bellissima, “if you had not noticed how
much I pitied these princes who were leaving me for ever; but for you, sire,
it is very different: you have every reason to be pleased with me, but they
are going sorrowfully away, so you must not grudge them my compassion.”
The King of the Gold Mines was quite overcome by the Princess’s good-
natured way of taking his interference, and, throwing himself at her feet, he
kissed her hand a thousand times and begged her to forgive him.
At last the happy day came. Everything was ready for Bellissima’s
wedding. The trumpets sounded, all the streets of the town were hung with
flags and strewn with flowers, and the people ran in crowds to the great
square before the palace. The Queen was so overjoyed that she had hardly
been able to sleep at all, and she got up before it was light to give the
necessary orders and to choose the jewels that the Princess was to wear.
These were nothing less than diamonds, even to her shoes, which were
covered with them, and her dress of silver brocade was embroidered with a
dozen of the sun’s rays. You may imagine how much these had cost; but
then nothing could have been more brilliant, except the beauty of the
Princess! Upon her head she wore a splendid crown, her lovely hair waved
nearly to her feet, and her stately figure could easily be distinguished
among all the ladies who attended her.
The King of the Gold Mines was not less noble and splendid; it was easy
to see by his face how happy he was, and everyone who went near him
returned loaded with presents, for all round the great banqueting hall had
been arranged a thousand barrels full of gold, and numberless bags made of
velvet embroidered with pearls and filled with money, each one containing
at least a hundred thousand gold pieces, which were given away to
everyone who liked to hold out his hand, which numbers of people hastened
to do, you may be sure—indeed, some found this by far the most amusing
part of the wedding festivities.
The Queen and the Princess were just ready to set out with the King
when they saw, advancing toward them from the end of the long gallery,
two great basilisks, dragging after them a very badly made box; behind

them came a tall old woman, whose ugliness was even more surprising than
her extreme old age. She wore a ruff of black taffeta, a red velvet hood, and
a farthingale all in rags, and she leaned heavily upon a crutch. This strange
old woman, without saying a single word, hobbled three times round the
gallery, followed by the basilisks, then stopping in the middle, and
brandishing her crutch threateningly, she cried:
“Ho, ho, Queen! Ho, ho, Princess! Do you think you are going to break
with impunity the promise that you made to my friend the Yellow Dwarf? I
am the Fairy of the Desert; without the Yellow Dwarf and his orange tree
my great lions would soon have eaten you up, I can tell you, and in
Fairyland we do not suffer ourselves to be insulted like this. Make up your
minds at once what you will do, for I vow that you shall marry the Yellow
Dwarf. If you don’t, may I burn my crutch!”
“Ah! Princess,” said the Queen, weeping, “what is this that I hear? What
have you promised?”
“Ah! my mother,” replied Bellissima sadly, “what did you promise,
yourself?”
The King of the Gold Mines, indignant at being kept from his happiness
by this wicked old woman, went up to her, and threatening her with his
sword, said:
“Get away out of my country at once, and for ever, miserable creature,
lest I take your life, and so rid myself of your malice.”
He had hardly spoken these words when the lid of the box fell back on
the floor with a terrible noise, and to their horror out sprang the Yellow
Dwarf, mounted upon a great Spanish cat. “Rash youth!” he cried, rushing
between the Fairy of the Desert and the King. “Dare to lay a finger upon
this illustrious Fairy! Your quarrel is with me only. I am your enemy and
your rival. That faithless Princess who would have married you is promised
to me. See if she has not upon her finger a ring made of one of my hairs.
Just try to take it off, and you will soon find out that I am more powerful
than you are!”
“Wretched little monster!” said the King; “do you dare to call yourself
the Princess’s lover, and to lay claim to such a treasure? Do you know that
you are a dwarf—that you are so ugly that one cannot bear to look at you—
and that I should have killed you myself long before this if you had been
worthy of such a glorious death?”

The Yellow Dwarf, deeply enraged at these words, set spurs to his cat,
which yelled horribly, and leaped hither and thither—terrifying everybody
except the brave King, who pursued the Dwarf closely, till he, drawing a
great knife with which he was armed, challenged the King to meet him in
single combat, and rushed down into the courtyard of the palace with a
terrible clatter. The King, quite provoked, followed him hastily, but they
had hardly taken their places facing one another, and the whole Court had
only just had time to rush out upon the balconies to watch what was going
on, when suddenly the sun became as red as blood, and it was so dark that
they could scarcely see at all. The thunder crashed, and the lightning
seemed as if it must burn up everything; the two basilisks appeared, one on
each side of the bad Dwarf, like giants, mountains high, and fire flew from
their mouths and ears, until they looked like flaming furnaces. None of
these things could terrify the noble young King, and the boldness of his
looks and actions reassured those who were looking on, and perhaps even
embarrassed the Yellow Dwarf himself; but even his courage gave way
when he saw what was happening to his beloved Princess. For the Fairy of
the Desert, looking more terrible than before, mounted upon a winged
griffin, and with long snakes coiled round her neck, had given her such a
blow with the lance she carried that Bellissima fell into the Queen’s arms
bleeding and senseless. Her fond mother, feeling as much hurt by the blow
as the Princess herself, uttered such piercing cries and lamentations that the
King, hearing them, entirely lost his courage and presence of mind. Giving
up the combat, he flew toward the Princess, to rescue or to die with her; but
the Yellow Dwarf was too quick for him. Leaping with his Spanish cat upon
the balcony, he snatched Bellissima from the Queen’s arms, and before any
of the ladies of the Court could stop him he had sprung upon the roof of the
palace and disappeared with his prize.
The King, motionless with horror, looked on despairingly at this dreadful
occurrence, which he was quite powerless to prevent, and to make matters
worse his sight failed him, everything became dark, and he felt himself
carried along through the air by a strong hand.
This new misfortune was the work of the wicked Fairy of the Desert,
who had come with the Yellow Dwarf to help him carry off the Princess,
and had fallen in love with the handsome young King of the Gold Mines
directly she saw him. She thought that if she carried him off to some
frightful cavern and chained him to a rock, then the fear of death would

make him forget Bellissima and become her slave. So, as soon as they
reached the place, she gave him back his sight, but without releasing him
from his chains, and by her magic power she appeared before him as a
young and beautiful fairy, and pretended to have come there quite by
chance.
“What do I see?” she cried. “Is it you, dear Prince? What misfortune has
brought you to this dismal place?”
The King, who was quite deceived by her altered appearance, replied:
“Alas! beautiful Fairy, the fairy who brought me here first took away my
sight, but by her voice I recognized her as the Fairy of the Desert, though
what she should have carried me off for I cannot tell you.”
“Ah!” cried the pretended Fairy, “if you have fallen into her hands, you
won’t get away until you have married her. She has carried off more than
one Prince like this, and she will certainly have anything she takes a fancy
to.” While she was thus pretending to be sorry for the King, he suddenly
noticed her feet, which were like those of a griffin, and knew in a moment
that this must be the Fairy of the Desert, for her feet were the one thing she
could not change, however pretty she might make her face.
Without seeming to have noticed anything, he said, in a confidential way:
“Not that I have any dislike to the Fairy of the Desert, but I really cannot
endure the way in which she protects the Yellow Dwarf and keeps me
chained here like a criminal. It is true that I love a charming princess, but if
the Fairy should set me free my gratitude would oblige me to love her
only.”
“Do you really mean what you say, Prince?” said the Fairy, quite
deceived.
“Surely,” replied the Prince; “how could I deceive you? You see it is so
much more flattering to my vanity to be loved by a fairy than by a simple
princess. But, even if I am dying of love for her, I shall pretend to hate her
until I am set free.”
The Fairy of the Desert, quite taken in by these words, resolved at once
to transport the Prince to a pleasanter place. So, making him mount her
chariot, to which she had harnessed swans instead of the bats which
generally drew it, away she flew with him. But imagine the distress of the
Prince when, from the giddy height at which they were rushing through the

air, he saw his beloved Princess in a castle built of polished steel, the walls
of which reflected the sun’s rays so hotly that no one could approach it
without being burnt to a cinder! Bellissima was sitting in a little thicket by a
brook, leaning her head upon her hand and weeping bitterly, but just as they
passed she looked up and saw the King and the Fairy of the Desert. Now,
the Fairy was so clever that she could not only seem beautiful to the King,
but even the poor Princess thought her the most lovely being she had ever
seen.
“What!” she cried; “was I not unhappy enough in this lonely castle to
which that frightful Yellow Dwarf brought me? Must I also be made to
know that the King of the Gold Mines ceased to love me as soon as he lost
sight of me? But who can my rival be, whose fatal beauty is greater than
mine?”
While she was saying this, the King, who really loved her as much as
ever, was feeling terribly sad at being so rapidly torn away from his beloved
Princess, but he knew too well how powerful the Fairy was to have any
hope of escaping from her except by great patience and cunning.
The Fairy of the Desert had also seen Bellissima, and she tried to read in
the King’s eyes the effect that this unexpected sight had had upon him.
“No one can tell you what you wish to know better than I can,” said he.
“This chance meeting with an unhappy princess for whom I once had a
passing fancy, before I was lucky enough to meet you, has affected me a
little, I admit, but you are so much more to me than she is that I would
rather die than leave you.”
“Ah, Prince,” she said, “can I believe that you really love me so much?”
“Time will show, madam,” replied the King; “but if you wish to convince
me that you have some regard for me, do not, I beg of you, refuse to aid
Bellissima.”
“Do you know what you are asking?” said the Fairy of the Desert,
frowning, and looking at him suspiciously. “Do you want me to employ my
art against the Yellow Dwarf, who is my best friend, and take away from
him a proud princess whom I can but look upon as my rival?”
The King sighed, but made no answer—indeed, what was there to be said
to such a clear-sighted person? At last they reached a vast meadow, gay
with all sorts of flowers; a deep river surrounded it, and many little brooks

murmured softly under the shady trees, where it was always cool and fresh.
A little way off stood a splendid palace, the walls of which were of
transparent emeralds. As soon as the swans which drew the Fairy’s chariot
had alighted under a porch, which was paved with diamonds and had arches
of rubies, they were greeted on all sides by thousands of beautiful beings,
who came to meet them joyfully, singing these words:
“When Love within a heart would reign,
Useless to strive against him ‘tis.
The proud but feel a sharper pain,
And make a greater triumph his.”

The Fairy of the Desert was delighted to hear them sing of her triumphs;
she led the King into the most splendid room that can be imagined, and left
him alone for a little while, just that he might not feel that he was a
prisoner; but he felt sure that she had not really gone quite away, but was
watching him from some hiding-place. So walking up to a great mirror, he
said to it, “Trusty counsellor, let me see what I can do to make myself
agreeable to the charming Fairy of the Desert; for I can think of nothing but
how to please her.”
And he at once set to work to curl his hair, and, seeing upon a table a
grander coat than his own, he put it on carefully. The Fairy came back so
delighted that she could not conceal her joy.
“I am quite aware of the trouble you have taken to please me,” said she,
“and I must tell you that you have succeeded perfectly already. You see it is
not difficult to do if you really care for me.”
The King, who had his own reasons for wishing to keep the old Fairy in a
good humor, did not spare pretty speeches, and after a time he was allowed
to walk by himself upon the sea-shore. The Fairy of the Desert had by her
enchantments raised such a terrible storm that the boldest pilot would not
venture out in it, so she was not afraid of her prisoner’s being able to
escape; and he found it some relief to think sadly over his terrible situation
without being interrupted by his cruel captor.
Presently, after walking wildly up and down, he wrote these verses upon
the sand with his stick:
“At last may I upon this shore
Lighten my sorrow with soft tears.
Alas! alas! I see no more
My Love, who yet my sadness cheers.

“And thou, O raging, stormy Sea,
Stirred by wild winds, from depth to height,
Thou hold’st my loved one far from me,
And I am captive to thy might.

“My heart is still more wild than thine,
For Fate is cruel unto me.
Why must I thus in exile pine?
Why is my Princess snatched from me?

“O! lovely Nymphs, from ocean caves,
Who know how sweet true love may be,
Come up and calm the furious waves
And set a desperate lover free!”

While he was still writing he heard a voice which attracted his attention
in spite of himself. Seeing that the waves were rolling in higher than ever,
he looked all round, and presently saw a lovely lady floating gently toward
him upon the crest of a huge billow, her long hair spread all about her; in
one hand she held a mirror, and in the other a comb, and instead of feet she
had a beautiful tail like a fish, with which she swam.
The King was struck dumb with astonishment at this unexpected sight;
but as soon as she came within speaking distance, she said to him, “I know
how sad you are at losing your Princess and being kept a prisoner by the
Fairy of the Desert; if you like I will help you to escape from this fatal
place, where you may otherwise have to drag on a weary existence for
thirty years or more.”
The King of the Gold Mines hardly knew what answer to make to this
proposal. Not because he did not wish very much to escape, but he was
afraid that this might be only another device by which the Fairy of the
Desert was trying to deceive him. As he hesitated the Mermaid, who
guessed his thoughts, said to him:
“You may trust me: I am not trying to entrap you. I am so angry with the
Yellow Dwarf and the Fairy of the Desert that I am not likely to wish to
help them, especially since I constantly see your poor Princess, whose
beauty and goodness make me pity her so much; and I tell you that if you
will have confidence in me I will help you to escape.”
“I trust you absolutely,” cried the King, “and I will do whatever you tell
me; but if you have seen my Princess I beg of you to tell me how she is and
what is happening to her.

“We must not waste time in talking,” said she. “Come with me and I will
carry you to the Castle of Steel, and we will leave upon this shore a figure
so like you that even the Fairy herself will be deceived by it.”
So saying, she quickly collected a bundle of sea-weed, and, blowing it
three times, she said:
“My friendly sea-weeds, I order you to stay here stretched upon the sand
until the Fairy of the Desert comes to take you away.” And at once the sea-
weeds became like the King, who stood looking at them in great
astonishment, for they were even dressed in a coat like his, but they lay
there pale and still as the King himself might have lain if one of the great
waves had overtaken him and thrown him senseless upon the shore. And
then the Mermaid caught up the King, and away they swam joyfully
together.
“Now,” said she, “I have time to tell you about the Princess. In spite of
the blow which the Fairy of the Desert gave her, the Yellow Dwarf
compelled her to mount behind him upon his terrible Spanish cat; but she
soon fainted away with pain and terror, and did not recover till they were
within the walls of his frightful Castle of Steel. Here she was received by
the prettiest girls it was possible to find, who had been carried there by the
Yellow Dwarf, who hastened to wait upon her and showed her every
possible attention. She was laid upon a couch covered with cloth of gold,
embroidered with pearls as big as nuts.”
“Ah!” interrupted the King of the Gold Mines, “if Bellissima forgets me,
and consents to marry him, I shall break my heart.”
“You need not be afraid of that,” answered the Mermaid, “the Princess
thinks of no one but you, and the frightful Dwarf cannot persuade her to
look at him.”
“Pray go on with your story,” said the King.
“What more is there to tell you?” replied the Mermaid. “Bellissima was
sitting in the wood when you passed, and saw you with the Fairy of the
Desert, who was so cleverly disguised that the Princess took her to be
prettier than herself; you may imagine her despair, for she thought that you
had fallen in love with her.”
“She believes that I love her!” cried the King. “What a fatal mistake!
What is to be done to undeceive her?”

“You know best,” answered the Mermaid, smiling kindly at him. “When
people are as much in love with one another as you two are, they don’t need
advice from anyone else.”
As she spoke they reached the Castle of Steel, the side next the sea being
the only one which the Yellow Dwarf had left unprotected by the dreadful
burning walls.
“I know quite well,” said the Mermaid, “that the Princess is sitting by the
brook-side, just where you saw her as you passed, but as you will have
many enemies to fight with before you can reach her, take this sword;
armed with it you may dare any danger, and overcome the greatest
difficulties, only beware of one thing—that is, never to let it fall from your
hand. Farewell; now I will wait by that rock, and if you need my help in
carrying off your beloved Princess I will not fail you, for the Queen, her
mother, is my best friend, and it was for her sake that I went to rescue you.”
So saying, she gave to the King a sword made from a single diamond,
which was more brilliant than the sun. He could not find words to express
his gratitude, but he begged her to believe that he fully appreciated the
importance of her gift, and would never forget her help and kindness.
We must now go back to the Fairy of the Desert. When she found that the
King did not return, she hastened out to look for him, and reached the shore,
with a hundred of the ladies of her train, loaded with splendid presents for
him. Some carried baskets full of diamonds, others golden cups of
wonderful workmanship, and amber, coral, and pearls, others, again,
balanced upon their heads bales of the richest and most beautiful stuffs,
while the rest brought fruit and flowers, and even birds. But what was the
horror of the Fairy, who followed this gay troop, when she saw, stretched
upon the sands, the image of the King which the Mermaid had made with
the sea-weeds. Struck with astonishment and sorrow, she uttered a terrible
cry, and threw herself down beside the pretended King, weeping, and
howling, and calling upon her eleven sisters, who were also fairies, and who
came to her assistance. But they were all taken in by the image of the King,
for, clever as they were, the Mermaid was still cleverer, and all they could
do was to help the Fairy of the Desert to make a wonderful monument over
what they thought was the grave of the King of the Gold Mines. But while
they were collecting jasper and porphyry, agate and marble, gold and
bronze, statues and devices, to immortalize the King’s memory, he was

thanking the good Mermaid and begging her still to help him, which she
graciously promised to do as she disappeared; and then he set out for the
Castle of Steel. He walked fast, looking anxiously round him, and longing
once more to see his darling Bellissima, but he had not gone far before he
was surrounded by four terrible sphinxes who would very soon have torn
him to pieces with their sharp talons if it had not been for the Mermaid’s
diamond sword. For, no sooner had he flashed it before their eyes than
down they fell at his feet quite helpless, and he killed them with one blow.
But he had hardly turned to continue his search when he met six dragons
covered with scales that were harder than iron. Frightful as this encounter
was the King’s courage was unshaken, and by the aid of his wonderful
sword he cut them in pieces one after the other. Now he hoped his
difficulties were over, but at the next turning he was met by one which he
did not know how to overcome. Four-and-twenty pretty and graceful
nymphs advanced toward him, holding garlands of flowers, with which they
barred the way.
“Where are you going, Prince?” they said; “it is our duty to guard this
place, and if we let you pass great misfortunes will happen to you and to us.
We beg you not to insist upon going on. Do you want to kill four-and-
twenty girls who have never displeased you in any way?”
The King did not know what to do or to say. It went against all his ideas
as a knight to do anything a lady begged him not to do; but, as he hesitated,
a voice in his ear said:
“Strike! strike! and do not spare, or your Princess is lost for ever!”
So, without reply to the nymphs, he rushed forward instantly, breaking
their garlands, and scattering them in all directions; and then went on
without further hindrance to the little wood where he had seen Bellissima.
She was seated by the brook looking pale and weary when he reached her,
and he would have thrown himself down at her feet, but she drew herself
away from him with as much indignation as if he had been the Yellow
Dwarf.
“Ah! Princess,” he cried, “do not be angry with me. Let me explain
everything. I am not faithless or to blame for what has happened. I am a
miserable wretch who has displeased you without being able to help
himself.”

“Ah!” cried Bellissima, “did I not see you flying through the air with the
loveliest being imaginable? Was that against your will?”
“Indeed it was, Princess,” he answered; “the wicked Fairy of the Desert,
not content with chaining me to a rock, carried me off in her chariot to the
other end of the earth, where I should even now be a captive but for the
unexpected help of a friendly mermaid, who brought me here to rescue you,
my Princess, from the unworthy hands that hold you. Do not refuse the aid
of your most faithful lover.” So saying, he threw himself at her feet and
held her by her robe. But, alas! in so doing he let fall the magic sword, and
the Yellow Dwarf, who was crouching behind a lettuce, no sooner saw it
than he sprang out and seized it, well knowing its wonderful power.
The Princess gave a cry of terror on seeing the Dwarf, but this only
irritated the little monster; muttering a few magical words he summoned
two giants, who bound the King with great chains of iron.
“Now,” said the Dwarf, “I am master of my rival’s fate, but I will give
him his life and permission to depart unharmed if you, Princess, will
consent to marry me.”
“Let me die a thousand times rather,” cried the unhappy King.
“Alas!” cried the Princess, “must you die? Could anything be more
terrible?”
“That you should marry that little wretch would be far more terrible,”
answered the King.
“At least,” continued she, “let us die together.”
“Let me have the satisfaction of dying for you, my Princess,” said he.
“Oh, no, no!” she cried, turning to the Dwarf; “rather than that I will do
as you wish.”
“Cruel Princess!” said the King, “would you make my life horrible to me
by marrying another before my eyes?”
“Not so,” replied the Yellow Dwarf; “you are a rival of whom I am too
much afraid; you shall not see our marriage.” So saying, in spite of
Bellissima’s tears and cries, he stabbed the King to the heart with the
diamond sword.
The poor Princess, seeing her lover lying dead at her feet, could no
longer live without him; she sank down by him and died of a broken heart.

So ended these unfortunate lovers, whom not even the Mermaid could
help, because all the magic power had been lost with the diamond sword.
As to the wicked Dwarf, he preferred to see the Princess dead rather than
married to the King of the Gold Mines; and the Fairy of the Desert, when
she heard of the King’s adventures, pulled down the grand monument
which she had built, and was so angry at the trick that had been played her
that she hated him as much as she had loved him before.
The kind Mermaid, grieved at the sad fate of the lovers, caused them to
be changed into two tall palm trees, which stand always side by side,
whispering together of their faithful love and caressing one another with
their interlacing branches.(1)
(1) Madame d’Aulnoy.

LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD
Once 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 grandmother doted on her still more. This good woman had made
for her a little red riding-hood; which became the girl so extremely well that
everybody called her Little Red Riding-Hood.
One day her mother, having made some custards, said to her:
“Go, my dear, and see how thy grandmamma does, for I hear she has
been very ill; carry her a custard, and this little pot of butter.”
Little Red Riding-Hood set out immediately to go to her grandmother,
who lived in another village.
As she was going through the wood, she met with Gaffer Wolf, who had
a very great mind to eat her up, but he dared 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 grandmamma and carry her a custard 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.”
“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 grandchild, Little Red Riding-Hood,” replied the Wolf,
counterfeiting her voice; “who has brought you a custard and a little pot of

butter sent you by mamma.”
The good grandmother, who was in bed, because she was somewhat ill,
cried out:
“Pull the bobbin, and the latch will go up.”
The Wolf pulled the bobbin, 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 grandmother’s bed, expecting Little Red Riding-Hood, who came some
time afterward and knocked 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 grandmother had got a cold and was hoarse,
answered:
“‘Tis your grandchild, Little Red Riding-Hood, who has brought you a
custard 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 bobbin, and the latch will go up.”
Little Red Riding-Hood pulled the bobbin, and the door opened.
The Wolf, seeing her come in, said to her, hiding himself under the bed-
clothes:
“Put the custard and the little pot of butter upon the stool, and come and
lie down with me.”
Little Red Riding-Hood undressed herself and went into bed, where,
being greatly amazed to see how her grandmother looked in her night-
clothes, she said to her:
“Grandmamma, what great arms you have got!”
“That is the better to hug thee, my dear.”
“Grandmamma, what great legs you have got!”
“That is to run the better, my child.”
“Grandmamma, what great ears you have got!”
“That is to hear the better, my child.”
“Grandmamma, what great eyes you have got!”
“It is to see the better, my child.”

“Grandmamma, what great teeth you have got!”
“That is to eat thee up.”
And, saying these words, this wicked wolf fell upon Little Red Riding-
Hood, and ate her all up.

THE SLEEPING BEAUTY IN THE WOOD
There 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 had a daughter. There was a very fine
christening; and the Princess had for her god-mothers 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. By this
means the Princess had 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 enchanted.
The King ordered her a cover, but could not furnish her with a case of
gold as the others, because they had only seven made for the seven fairies.
The old Fairy fancied she was slighted, and muttered some threats 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 table, and hid herself behind the
hangings, that she might speak last, and repair, as much as she could, the
evil which the old Fairy might intend.
In the meanwhile 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 everything 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 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 everybody fell a-crying.
At this very instant the young Fairy came out from behind the hangings,
and spake these words aloud:
“Assure yourselves, O King and Queen, that your daughter shall not die
of this disaster. It is true, I have no power to undo entirely 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 proclamation to be made, whereby everybody 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 in running up and down the
palace; when going up from one apartment to another, she came into a little
room on the top of the 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 it 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 a little 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 were 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 awaking 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 in 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 everything he
had done, but as she had 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
everything in the palace (except the King and Queen)—governesses, maids
of honor, ladies of the bedchamber, gentlemen, officers, stewards, cooks,
undercooks, scullions, guards, with their beefeaters, pages, footmen; she
likewise touched all the horses which were in the stables, pads as well as
others, the great dogs in the outward court and pretty little Mopsey too, the
Princess’s little spaniel, 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 also. 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 through; 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 very extraordinary sample of
her art, that the Princess, while she continued sleeping, might have nothing
to fear from any curious people.
When a hundred years were gone and passed 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 those towers were which he saw in the middle of a great thick
wood?
Everyone 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 night’s meeting.
The common opinion was: That an ogre lived there, and that he carried
thither all the little children he could catch, that he might eat them up at his
leisure, without anybody being able to follow him, as having himself only
the power to pass through the wood.
The Prince was at a stand, not knowing what to believe, when a very
good countryman spake to him thus:
“May it please your royal highness, it is now about fifty years since I
heard from my father, who heard my grandfather say, that there was then in
this castle a princess, the most beautiful was ever seen; that she must sleep
there a hundred years, and should be waked by a king’s son, for whom she
was reserved.”
The young Prince was all on fire at these words, believing, without
weighing the matter, that he could put an end to this rare adventure; and,
pushed on by love and honor, resolved that moment to look into it.
Scarce had he advanced toward the wood when all the great trees, the
bushes, and brambles gave way of themselves to let him pass through; 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
passed through 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 the most fearless person with horror. There reigned all over a
most frightful silence; the image of death everywhere showed 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 beefeaters, that they were only asleep; and their
goblets, wherein still remained some drops of wine, showed 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 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.
And now, as the enchantment 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 waited a long while.”
The Prince, charmed with these words, and much more with the manner
in which they were spoken, knew not how to show his joy and gratitude; he
assured her that he loved her better than he did himself; their discourse was
not well connected, they did weep more than talk—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 given her very agreeable dreams. In short, they talked four hours
together, and yet they said not half what they had to say.
In the meanwhile all the palace awaked; everyone 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 honor, 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-grandmother, and had a point band peeping over a
high collar; she looked not a bit less charming and beautiful 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, though it was now above a hundred years since
they had played; and after supper, without losing any time, the lord almoner
married them in the chapel of the castle, and the chief lady of honor drew
the curtains. They had but very little sleep—the Princess had no occasion;
and the Prince left her next morning to return to the city, where his father
must needs have been in pain for him. The Prince told him:
That he lost his way in the forest as he was hunting, and that he had lain
in the cottage of a charcoal-burner, who gave him cheese and brown bread.
The King, his father, who was a good man, believed him; but his mother
could not be persuaded it was true; and seeing that he went almost every
day a-hunting, and that he always had some excuse ready for so doing,
though he had lain out three or four nights together, she began to suspect
that he was married, 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 Morning, and the youngest, who was a son, they called Day, because
he was a great deal handsomer and more beautiful than his sister.
The Queen spoke several times to her son, to inform herself after what
manner he did pass his time, and that in this he ought in duty to satisfy her.
But he never dared to trust her with his secret; he feared her, though 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 avoid
falling upon them. And so the Prince would never tell her one word.
But when the King was dead, which happened about two years afterward,
and he saw himself lord and master, he openly declared his marriage; and
he went in great ceremony to conduct his Queen to the palace. They made a
magnificent entry into the capital city, she riding between her two children.

Soon after the King went to make war with the Emperor Contalabutte, his
neighbor. He left the government of the kingdom to the Queen his mother,
and earnestly recommended to her care his wife and children. He was
obliged to continue his expedition all the summer, and as soon as he
departed the Queen-mother sent her daughter-in-law to a country house
among the woods, that she might with the more ease gratify her horrible
longing.
Some few days afterward she went thither herself, and said to her clerk of
the kitchen:
“I have a mind to eat little Morning for my dinner to-morrow.”
“Ah! madam,” cried the clerk of the kitchen.
“I will have it so,” replied the Queen (and this she spoke in the tone of an
Ogress who had a strong desire to eat fresh meat), “and will eat her with a
sauce Robert.”
The poor man, knowing very well that he must not play tricks with
Ogresses, took his great knife and went up into little Morning’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 that she had never eaten anything so good in her
life. He had at the same time taken up little Morning, and carried her to his
wife, to conceal her in the lodging he had at the bottom of the courtyard.
About eight days afterward the wicked Queen said to the clerk of the
kitchen, “I will sup on 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; 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 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 then you must
go home with me to 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
young 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 the mad 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 Morning 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
everybody 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 horseback (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 enraged 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.

CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS
SLIPPER
Once 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 humor, who 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 mother-in-
law began to show herself in her true colors. 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, etc., and scrubbed 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 entirely. 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 Cinderwench; but
the youngest, who was not so rude and uncivil as the eldest, called her
Cinderella. However, Cinderella, notwithstanding her mean apparel, was a
hundred times handsomer than her sisters, though they were always dressed
very richly.
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 choosing out such gowns, petticoats, and head-
clothes as might become them. This was a new trouble to Cinderella; 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 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, and they had their red brushes and
patches from Mademoiselle de la Poche.
Cinderella 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 services to dress their heads, which they were very
willing she should do. As she was doing this, they said to her:
“Cinderella, would you not be glad to go to the ball?”
“Alas!” said she, “you only jeer 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 Cinderwench at a ball.”
Anyone but Cinderella 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 were they transported with joy. They broke above a
dozen 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 Cinderella 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
couldst go to the ball; is it not so?”
“Y—es,” cried Cinderella, 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.”
Cinderella 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, having left 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 Cinderella to lift up a little the trapdoor, when, giving
each mouse, as it went out, a little tap with her wand, the mouse was that
moment turned into a fine horse, which altogether made a very fine set of
six horses of a beautiful mouse-colored dapple-gray. Being at a loss for a
coachman,
“I will go and see,” says Cinderella, “if there is never a rat in the rat-trap
—we may make a coachman of him.”
“Thou art in the right,” replied her godmother; “go and look.”
Cinderella 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 each other as if
they had done nothing else their whole lives. The Fairy then said to
Cinderella:
“Well, you see here an equipage fit to go to the ball with; are you not
pleased with it?”
“Oh! yes,” cried she; “but must I go thither as I am, in these 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, the prettiest in the
whole world. 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 one moment longer, the
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 drives, 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 ball, among all the company. There was
immediately a profound silence, they left off dancing, and the violins
ceased to play, so attentive was everyone to contemplate the singular
beauties of the 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 watching 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 headdress, that
they might have some made next day after the same pattern, provided they
could meet with such fine material and as able hands to make them.
The King’s son conducted her to the most honorable seat, and afterward
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, showing 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
Cinderella was thus amusing her sisters, she heard the clock strike eleven
and three-quarters, whereupon she immediately made a courtesy to the
company and hasted away as fast as she could.
When she 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 Cinderella ran and opened.
“How long you have stayed!” cried she, gaping, rubbing her eyes and
stretching herself as if she had been just waked 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 showed us a thousand
civilities, and gave us oranges and citrons.”
Cinderella seemed very indifferent in the matter; indeed, 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 uneasy on her account and would give all the world
to know who she was. At this Cinderella, smiling, replied:
“She must, then, be very beautiful indeed; how happy you have been!
Could not I see her? Ah! dear Miss Charlotte, do lend me your yellow suit
of clothes which you wear every day.”
“Ay, to be sure!” cried Miss Charlotte; “lend my clothes to such a dirty
Cinderwench as thou art! I should be a fool.”
Cinderella, indeed, expected well 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 Cinderella, but
dressed more magnificently than before. The King’s son was always by her,
and never ceased his compliments and kind 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, and in her nasty old clothes,
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
gentlewoman.
When the two sisters returned from the ball Cinderella 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, which the King’s son had taken up; that
he had done nothing but look at her all the time at the ball, and that most
certainly he was very much in love with the beautiful person who owned
the glass 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 the slipper would just fit. They whom he employed began to try it 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
foot into the slipper, but they could not effect it. Cinderella, 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 Cinderella, and, finding
her very handsome, said:
It was but just that she should try, and that he had orders to let everyone
make trial.
He obliged Cinderella 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 Cinderella 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 Cinderella’s clothes, 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. Cinderella 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. Cinderella,
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.(1)
(1) Charles Perrault.

ALADDIN AND THE WONDERFUL LAMP
There once lived a poor tailor, who had a son called Aladdin, a careless,
idle boy who would do nothing but play ball all day long in the streets with
little idle boys like himself. This so grieved the father that he died; yet, in
spite of his mother’s tears and prayers, Aladdin did not mend his ways. One
day, when he was playing in the streets as usual, a stranger asked him his
age, and if he was not the son of Mustapha the tailor. “I am, sir,” replied
Aladdin; “but he died a long while ago.” On this the stranger, who was a
famous African magician, fell on his neck and kissed him, saying, “I am
your uncle, and knew you from your likeness to my brother. Go to your
mother and tell her I am coming.” Aladdin ran home and told his mother of
his newly found uncle. “Indeed, child,” she said, “your father had a brother,
but I always thought he was dead.” However, she prepared supper, and bade
Aladdin seek his uncle, who came laden with wine and fruit. He presently
fell down and kissed the place where Mustapha used to sit, bidding
Aladdin’s mother not to be surprised at not having seen him before, as he
had been forty years out of the country. He then turned to Aladdin, and
asked him his trade, at which the boy hung his head, while his mother burst
into tears. On learning that Aladdin was idle and would learn no trade, he
offered to take a shop for him and stock it with merchandise. Next day he
bought Aladdin a fine suit of clothes and took him all over the city, showing
him the sights, and brought him home at nightfall to his mother, who was
overjoyed to see her son so fine.
The next day the magician led Aladdin into some beautiful gardens a
long way outside the city gates. They sat down by a fountain and the
magician pulled a cake from his girdle, which he divided between them.
They then journeyed onward till they almost reached the mountains.
Aladdin was so tired that he begged to go back, but the magician beguiled
him with pleasant stories, and led him on in spite of himself. At last they
came to two mountains divided by a narrow valley. “We will go no farther,”
said the false uncle. “I will show you something wonderful; only do you
gather up sticks while I kindle a fire.” When it was lit the magician threw
on it a powder he had about him, at the same time saying some magical

words. The earth trembled a little and opened in front of them, disclosing a
square flat stone with a brass ring in the middle to raise it by. Aladdin tried
to run away, but the magician caught him and gave him a blow that knocked
him down. “What have I done, uncle?” he said piteously; whereupon the
magician said more kindly: “Fear nothing, but obey me. Beneath this stone
lies a treasure which is to be yours, and no one else may touch it, so you
must do exactly as I tell you.” At the word treasure Aladdin forgot his fears,
and grasped the ring as he was told, saying the names of his father and
grandfather. The stone came up quite easily, and some steps appeared. “Go
down,” said the magician; “at the foot of those steps you will find an open
door leading into three large halls. Tuck up your gown and go through them
without touching anything, or you will die instantly. These halls lead into a
garden of fine fruit trees. Walk on until you come to a niche in a terrace
where stands a lighted lamp. Pour out the oil it contains, and bring it to
me.” He drew a ring from his finger and gave it to Aladdin, bidding him
prosper.
Aladdin found everything as the magician had said, gathered some fruit
off the trees, and, having got the lamp, arrived at the mouth of the cave. The
magician cried out in a great hurry: “Make haste and give me the lamp.”
This Aladdin refused to do until he was out of the cave. The magician flew
into a terrible passion, and throwing some more powder on to the fire, he
said something, and the stone rolled back into its place.
The magician left Persia for ever, which plainly showed that he was no
uncle of Aladdin’s, but a cunning magician, who had read in his magic
books of a wonderful lamp, which would make him the most powerful man
in the world. Though he alone knew where to find it, he could only receive
it from the hand of another. He had picked out the foolish Aladdin for this
purpose, intending to get the lamp and kill him afterward.
For two days Aladdin remained in the dark, crying and lamenting. At last
he clasped his hands in prayer, and in so doing rubbed the ring, which the
magician had forgotten to take from him. Immediately an enormous and
frightful genie rose out of the earth, saying: “What wouldst thou with me? I
am the Slave of the Ring, and will obey thee in all things.” Aladdin
fearlessly replied: “Deliver me from this place!” whereupon the earth
opened, and he found himself outside. As soon as his eyes could bear the
light he went home, but fainted on the threshold. When he came to himself

he told his mother what had passed, and showed her the lamp and the fruits
he had gathered in the garden, which were, in reality, precious stones. He
then asked for some food. “Alas! child,” she said, “I have nothing in the
house, but I have spun a little cotton and will go and sell it.” Aladdin bade
her keep her cotton, for he would sell the lamp instead. As it was very dirty
she began to rub it, that it might fetch a higher price. Instantly a hideous
genie appeared, and asked what she would have. She fainted away, but
Aladdin, snatching the lamp, said boldly: “Fetch me something to eat!” The
genie returned with a silver bowl, twelve silver plates containing rich meats,
two silver cups, and two bottles of wine. Aladdin’s mother, when she came
to herself, said: “Whence comes this splendid feast?” “Ask not, but eat,”
replied Aladdin. So they sat at breakfast till it was dinner-time, and Aladdin
told his mother about the lamp. She begged him to sell it, and have nothing
to do with devils. “No,” said Aladdin, “since chance hath made us aware of
its virtues, we will use it, and the ring likewise, which I shall always wear
on my finger.” When they had eaten all the genie had brought, Aladdin sold
one of the silver plates, and so on until none were left. He then had recourse
to the genie, who gave him another set of plates, and thus they lived for
many years.
One day Aladdin heard an order from the Sultan proclaimed that
everyone was to stay at home and close his shutters while the Princess, his
daughter, went to and from the bath. Aladdin was seized by a desire to see
her face, which was very difficult, as she always went veiled. He hid
himself behind the door of the bath, and peeped through a chink. The
Princess lifted her veil as she went in, and looked so beautiful that Aladdin
fell in love with her at first sight. He went home so changed that his mother
was frightened. He told her he loved the Princess so deeply that he could
not live without her, and meant to ask her in marriage of her father. His
mother, on hearing this, burst out laughing, but Aladdin at last prevailed
upon her to go before the Sultan and carry his request. She fetched a napkin
and laid in it the magic fruits from the enchanted garden, which sparkled
and shone like the most beautiful jewels. She took these with her to please
the Sultan, and set out, trusting in the lamp. The Grand Vizier and the lords
of council had just gone in as she entered the hall and placed herself in front
of the Sultan. He, however, took no notice of her. She went every day for a
week, and stood in the same place. When the council broke up on the sixth
day the Sultan said to his Vizier: “I see a certain woman in the audience-

chamber every day carrying something in a napkin. Call her next time, that
I may find out what she wants.” Next day, at a sign from the Vizier, she
went up to the foot of the throne and remained kneeling till the Sultan said
to her: “Rise, good woman, and tell me what you want.” She hesitated, so
the Sultan sent away all but the Vizier, and bade her speak frankly,
promising to forgive her beforehand for anything she might say. She then
told him of her son’s violent love for the Princess. “I prayed him to forget
her,” she said, “but in vain; he threatened to do some desperate deed if I
refused to go and ask your Majesty for the hand of the Princess. Now I pray
you to forgive not me alone, but my son Aladdin.” The Sultan asked her
kindly what she had in the napkin, whereupon she unfolded the jewels and
presented them. He was thunderstruck, and turning to the Vizier said:
“What sayest thou? Ought I not to bestow the Princess on one who values
her at such a price?” The Vizier, who wanted her for his own son, begged
the Sultan to withhold her for three months, in the course of which he hoped
his son would contrive to make him a richer present. The Sultan granted
this, and told Aladdin’s mother that, though he consented to the marriage,
she must not appear before him again for three months.
Aladdin waited patiently for nearly three months, but after two had
elapsed his mother, going into the city to buy oil, found every one rejoicing,
and asked what was going on. “Do you not know,” was the answer, “that the
son of the Grand Vizier is to marry the Sultan’s daughter to-night?”
Breathless, she ran and told Aladdin, who was overwhelmed at first, but
presently bethought him of the lamp. He rubbed it, and the genie appeared,
saying, “What is thy will?” Aladdin replied: “The Sultan, as thou knowest,
has broken his promise to me, and the Vizier’s son is to have the Princess.
My command is that to-night you bring hither the bride and bridegroom.”
“Master, I obey,” said the genie. Aladdin then went to his chamber, where,
sure enough, at midnight the genie transported the bed containing the
Vizier’s son and the Princess. “Take this new-married man,” he said, “and
put him outside in the cold, and return at daybreak.” Whereupon the genie
took the Vizier’s son out of bed, leaving Aladdin with the Princess. “Fear
nothing,” Aladdin said to her; “you are my wife, promised to me by your
unjust father, and no harm shall come to you.” The Princess was too
frightened to speak, and passed the most miserable night of her life, while
Aladdin lay down beside her and slept soundly. At the appointed hour the

genie fetched in the shivering bridegroom, laid him in his place, and
transported the bed back to the palace.
Presently the Sultan came to wish his daughter good-morning. The
unhappy Vizier’s son jumped up and hid himself, while the Princess would
not say a word, and was very sorrowful. The Sultan sent her mother to her,
who said: “How comes it, child, that you will not speak to your father?
What has happened?” The Princess sighed deeply, and at last told her
mother how, during the night, the bed had been carried into some strange
house, and what had passed there. Her mother did not believe her in the
least, but bade her rise and consider it an idle dream.
The following night exactly the same thing happened, and next morning,
on the Princess’s refusal to speak, the Sultan threatened to cut off her head.
She then confessed all, bidding him to ask the Vizier’s son if it were not so.
The Sultan told the Vizier to ask his son, who owned the truth, adding that,
dearly as he loved the Princess, he had rather die than go through another
such fearful night, and wished to be separated from her. His wish was
granted, and there was an end to feasting and rejoicing.
When the three months were over, Aladdin sent his mother to remind the
Sultan of his promise. She stood in the same place as before, and the Sultan,
who had forgotten Aladdin, at once remembered him, and sent for her. On
seeing her poverty the Sultan felt less inclined than ever to keep his word,
and asked his Vizier’s advice, who counselled him to set so high a value on
the Princess that no man living could come up to it. The Sultan then turned
to Aladdin’s mother, saying: “Good woman, a Sultan must remember his
promises, and I will remember mine, but your son must first send me forty
basins of gold brimful of jewels, carried by forty black slaves, led by as
many white ones, splendidly dressed. Tell him that I await his answer.” The
mother of Aladdin bowed low and went home, thinking all was lost. She
gave Aladdin the message, adding: “He may wait long enough for your
answer!” “Not so long, mother, as you think,” her son replied. “I would do a
great deal more than that for the Princess.” He summoned the genie, and in
a few moments the eighty slaves arrived, and filled up the small house and
garden. Aladdin made them set out to the palace, two and two, followed by
his mother. They were so richly dressed, with such splendid jewels in their
girdles, that everyone crowded to see them and the basins of gold they
carried on their heads. They entered the palace, and, after kneeling before

the Sultan, stood in a half-circle round the throne with their arms crossed,
while Aladdin’s mother presented them to the Sultan. He hesitated no
longer, but said: “Good woman, return and tell your son that I wait for him
with open arms.” She lost no time in telling Aladdin, bidding him make
haste. But Aladdin first called the genie. “I want a scented bath,” he said, “a
richly embroidered habit, a horse surpassing the Sultan’s, and twenty slaves
to attend me. Besides this, six slaves, beautifully dressed, to wait on my
mother; and lastly, ten thousand pieces of gold in ten purses.” No sooner
said than done. Aladdin mounted his horse and passed through the streets,
the slaves strewing gold as they went. Those who had played with him in
his childhood knew him not, he had grown so handsome. When the Sultan
saw him he came down from his throne, embraced him, and led him into a
hall where a feast was spread, intending to marry him to the Princess that
very day. But Aladdin refused, saying, “I must build a palace fit for her,”
and took his leave. Once home, he said to the genie: “Build me a palace of
the finest marble, set with jasper, agate, and other precious stones. In the
middle you shall build me a large hall with a dome, its four walls of massy
gold and silver, each having six windows, whose lattices, all except one
which is to be left unfinished, must be set with diamonds and rubies. There
must be stables and horses and grooms and slaves; go and see about it!”
The palace was finished by the next day, and the genie carried him there
and showed him all his orders faithfully carried out, even to the laying of a
velvet carpet from Aladdin’s palace to the Sultan’s. Aladdin’s mother then
dressed herself carefully, and walked to the palace with her slaves, while he
followed her on horseback. The Sultan sent musicians with trumpets and
cymbals to meet them, so that the air resounded with music and cheers. She
was taken to the Princess, who saluted her and treated her with great honor.
At night the Princess said good-by to her father, and set out on the carpet
for Aladdin’s palace, with his mother at her side, and followed by the
hundred slaves. She was charmed at the sight of Aladdin, who ran to receive
her. “Princess,” he said, “blame your beauty for my boldness if I have
displeased you.” She told him that, having seen him, she willingly obeyed
her father in this matter. After the wedding had taken place Aladdin led her
into the hall, where a feast was spread, and she supped with him, after
which they danced till midnight. Next day Aladdin invited the Sultan to see
the palace. On entering the hall with the four-and-twenty windows, with
their rubies, diamonds, and emeralds, he cried: “It is a world’s wonder!

There is only one thing that surprises me. Was it by accident that one
window was left unfinished?” “No, sir, by design,” returned Aladdin. “I
wished your Majesty to have the glory of finishing this palace.” The Sultan
was pleased, and sent for the best jewelers in the city. He showed them the
unfinished window, and bade them fit it up like the others. “Sir,” replied
their spokesman, “we cannot find jewels enough.” The Sultan had his own
fetched, which they soon used, but to no purpose, for in a month’s time the
work was not half done. Aladdin, knowing that their task was vain, bade
them undo their work and carry the jewels back, and the genie finished the
window at his command. The Sultan was surprised to receive his jewels
again, and visited Aladdin, who showed him the window finished. The
Sultan embraced him, the envious Vizier meanwhile hinting that it was the
work of enchantment.
Aladdin had won the hearts of the people by his gentle bearing. He was
made captain of the Sultan’s armies, and won several battles for him, but
remained modest and courteous as before, and lived thus in peace and
content for several years.
But far away in Africa the magician remembered Aladdin, and by his
magic arts discovered that Aladdin, instead of perishing miserably in the
cave, had escaped, and had married a princess, with whom he was living in
great honor and wealth. He knew that the poor tailor’s son could only have
accomplished this by means of the lamp, and traveled night and day until he
reached the capital of China, bent on Aladdin’s ruin. As he passed through
the town he heard people talking everywhere about a marvellous palace.
“Forgive my ignorance,” he asked, “what is this palace you speak Of?”
“Have you not heard of Prince Aladdin’s palace,” was the reply, “the
greatest wonder of the world? I will direct you if you have a mind to see it.”
The magician thanked him who spoke, and having seen the palace, knew
that it had been raised by the Genie of the Lamp, and became half mad with
rage. He determined to get hold of the lamp, and again plunge Aladdin into
the deepest poverty.
Unluckily, Aladdin had gone a-hunting for eight days, which gave the
magician plenty of time. He bought a dozen copper lamps, put them into a
basket, and went to the palace, crying: “New lamps for old!” followed by a
jeering crowd. The Princess, sitting in the hall of four-and-twenty windows,
sent a slave to find out what the noise was about, who came back laughing,

so that the Princess scolded her. “Madam,” replied the slave, “who can help
laughing to see an old fool offering to exchange fine new lamps for old
ones?” Another slave, hearing this, said: “There is an old one on the cornice
there which he can have.” Now this was the magic lamp, which Aladdin had
left there, as he could not take it out hunting with him. The Princess, not
knowing its value, laughingly bade the slave take it and make the exchange.
She went and said to the magician: “Give me a new lamp for this.” He
snatched it and bade the slave take her choice, amid the jeers of the crowd.
Little he cared, but left off crying his lamps, and went out of the city gates
to a lonely place, where he remained till nightfall, when he pulled out the
lamp and rubbed it. The genie appeared, and at the magician’s command
carried him, together with the palace and the Princess in it, to a lonely place
in Africa.
Next morning the Sultan looked out of the window toward Aladdin’s
palace and rubbed his eyes, for it was gone. He sent for the Vizier and asked
what had become of the palace. The Vizier looked out too, and was lost in
astonishment. He again put it down to enchantment, and this time the Sultan
believed him, and sent thirty men on horseback to fetch Aladdin in chains.
They met him riding home, bound him, and forced him to go with them on
foot. The people, however, who loved him, followed, armed, to see that he
came to no harm. He was carried before the Sultan, who ordered the
executioner to cut off his head. The executioner made Aladdin kneel down,
bandaged his eyes, and raised his scimitar to strike. At that instant the
Vizier, who saw that the crowd had forced their way into the courtyard and
were scaling the walls to rescue Aladdin, called to the executioner to stay
his hand. The people, indeed, looked so threatening that the Sultan gave
way and ordered Aladdin to be unbound, and pardoned him in the sight of
the crowd. Aladdin now begged to know what he had done. “False wretch!”
said the Sultan, “come thither,” and showed him from the window the place
where his palace had stood. Aladdin was so amazed that he could not say a
word. “Where is my palace and my daughter?” demanded the Sultan. “For
the first I am not so deeply concerned, but my daughter I must have, and
you must find her or lose your head.” Aladdin begged for forty days in
which to find her, promising, if he failed, to return and suffer death at the
Sultan’s pleasure. His prayer was granted, and he went forth sadly from the
Sultan’s presence. For three days he wandered about like a madman, asking
everyone what had become of his palace, but they only laughed and pitied

him. He came to the banks of a river, and knelt down to say his prayers
before throwing himself in. In so doing he rubbed the magic ring he still
wore. The genie he had seen in the cave appeared, and asked his will. “Save
my life, genie,” said Aladdin, “bring my palace back.” “That is not in my
power,” said the genie; “I am only the Slave of the Ring; you must ask him
of the lamp.” “Even so,” said Aladdin, “but thou canst take me to the
palace, and set me down under my dear wife’s window.” He at once found
himself in Africa, under the window of the Princess, and fell asleep out of
sheer weariness.
He was awakened by the singing of the birds, and his heart was lighter.
He saw plainly that all his misfortunes were owing to the loss of the lamp,
and vainly wondered who had robbed him of it.
That morning the Princess rose earlier than she had done since she had
been carried into Africa by the magician, whose company she was forced to
endure once a day. She, however, treated him so harshly that he dared not
live there altogether. As she was dressing, one of her women looked out and
saw Aladdin. The Princess ran and opened the window, and at the noise she
made Aladdin looked up. She called to him to come to her, and great was
the joy of these lovers at seeing each other again. After he had kissed her
Aladdin said: “I beg of you, Princess, in God’s name, before we speak of
anything else, for your own sake and mine, tell me that has become of an
old lamp I left on the cornice in the hall of four-and-twenty windows, when
I went a-hunting.” “Alas!” she said, “I am the innocent cause of our
sorrows,” and told him of the exchange of the lamp. “Now I know,” cried
Aladdin, “that we have to thank the African magician for this! Where is the
lamp?” “He carries it about with him,” said the Princess. “I know, for he
pulled it out of his breast to show me. He wishes me to break my faith with
you and marry him, saying that you were beheaded by my father’s
command. He is for ever speaking ill of you but I only reply by my tears. If
I persist, I doubt not but he will use violence.” Aladdin comforted her, and
left her for a while. He changed clothes with the first person he met in the
town, and having bought a certain powder, returned to the Princess, who let
him in by a little side door. “Put on your most beautiful dress,” he said to
her “and receive the magician with smiles, leading him to believe that you
have forgotten me. Invite him to sup with you, and say you wish to taste the
wine of his country. He will go for some and while he is gone I will tell you
what to do.” She listened carefully to Aladdin and when he left she arrayed

herself gaily for the first time since she left China. She put on a girdle and
head-dress of diamonds, and, seeing in a glass that she was more beautiful
than ever, received the magician, saying, to his great amazement: “I have
made up my mind that Aladdin is dead, and that all my tears will not bring
him back to me, so I am resolved to mourn no more, and have therefore
invited you to sup with me; but I am tired of the wines of China, and would
fain taste those of Africa.” The magician flew to his cellar, and the Princess
put the powder Aladdin had given her in her cup. When he returned she
asked him to drink her health in the wine of Africa, handing him her cup in
exchange for his, as a sign she was reconciled to him. Before drinking the
magician made her a speech in praise of her beauty, but the Princess cut him
short, saying: “Let us drink first, and you shall say what you will
afterward.” She set her cup to her lips and kept it there, while the magician
drained his to the dregs and fell back lifeless. The Princess then opened the
door to Aladdin, and flung her arms round his neck; but Aladdin put her
away, bidding her leave him, as he had more to do. He then went to the
dead magician, took the lamp out of his vest, and bade the genie carry the
palace and all in it back to China. This was done, and the Princess in her
chamber only felt two little shocks, and little thought she was at home
again.
The Sultan, who was sitting in his closet, mourning for his lost daughter,
happened to look up, and rubbed his eyes, for there stood the palace as
before! He hastened thither, and Aladdin received him in the hall of the
four-and-twenty windows, with the Princess at his side. Aladdin told him
what had happened, and showed him the dead body of the magician, that he
might believe. A ten days’ feast was proclaimed, and it seemed as if Aladdin
might now live the rest of his life in peace; but it was not to be.
The African magician had a younger brother, who was, if possible, more
wicked and more cunning than himself. He traveled to China to avenge his
brother’s death, and went to visit a pious woman called Fatima, thinking she
might be of use to him. He entered her cell and clapped a dagger to her
breast, telling her to rise and do his bidding on pain of death. He changed
clothes with her, colored his face like hers, put on her veil, and murdered
her, that she might tell no tales. Then he went toward the palace of Aladdin,
and all the people, thinking he was the holy woman, gathered round him,
kissing his hands and begging his blessing. When he got to the palace there
was such a noise going on round him that the Princess bade her slave look

out of the window and ask what was the matter. The slave said it was the
holy woman, curing people by her touch of their ailments, whereupon the
Princess, who had long desired to see Fatima, sent for her. On coming to the
Princess the magician offered up a prayer for her health and prosperity.
When he had done the Princess made him sit by her, and begged him to stay
with her always. The false Fatima, who wished for nothing better,
consented, but kept his veil down for fear of discovery. The Princess
showed him the hall, and asked him what he thought of it. “It is truly
beautiful,” said the false Fatima. “In my mind it wants but one thing.” “And
what is that?” said the Princess. “If only a roc’s egg,” replied he, “were
hung up from the middle of this dome, it would be the wonder of the
world.”
After this the Princess could think of nothing but the roc’s egg, and when
Aladdin returned from hunting he found her in a very ill humor. He begged
to know what was amiss, and she told him that all her pleasure in the hall
was spoiled for the want of a roc’s egg hanging from the dome. “If that is
all,” replied Aladdin, “you shall soon be happy.” He left her and rubbed the
lamp, and when the genie appeared commanded him to bring a roc’s egg.
The genie gave such a loud and terrible shriek that the hall shook.
“Wretch!” he cried, “is it not enough that I have done everything for you,
but you must command me to bring my master and hang him up in the
midst of this dome? You and your wife and your palace deserve to be burnt
to ashes, but that this request does not come from you, but from the brother
of the African magician, whom you destroyed. He is now in your palace
disguised as the holy woman—whom he murdered. He it was who put that
wish into your wife’s head. Take care of yourself, for he means to kill you.”
So saying, the genie disappeared.
Aladdin went back to the Princess, saying his head ached, and requesting
that the holy Fatima should be fetched to lay her hands on it. But when the
magician came near, Aladdin, seizing his dagger, pierced him to the heart.
“What have you done?” cried the Princess. “You have killed the holy
woman!” “Not so,” replied Aladdin, “but a wicked magician,” and told her
of how she had been deceived.
After this Aladdin and his wife lived in peace. He succeeded the Sultan
when he died, and reigned for many years, leaving behind him a long line
of kings.(1)

(1) Arabian Nights.

THE TALE OF A YOUTH WHO SET OUT TO
LEARN WHAT FEAR WAS
A father had two sons, of whom the eldest was clever and bright, and
always knew what he was about; but the youngest was stupid, and couldn’t
learn or understand anything. So much so that those who saw him
exclaimed: “What a burden he’ll be to his father!” Now when there was
anything to be done, the eldest had always to do it; but if something was
required later or in the night-time, and the way led through the churchyard
or some such ghostly place, he always replied: “Oh! no, father: nothing will
induce me to go there, it makes me shudder!” for he was afraid. Or, when
they sat of an evening around the fire telling stories which made one’s flesh
creep, the listeners sometimes said: “Oh! it makes one shudder,” the
youngest sat in a corner, heard the exclamation, and could not understand
what it meant. “They are always saying it makes one shudder! it makes one
shudder! Nothing makes me shudder. It’s probably an art quite beyond me.”
Now it happened that his father said to him one day: “Hearken, you there
in the corner; you are growing big and strong, and you must learn to earn
your own bread. Look at your brother, what pains he takes; but all the
money I’ve spent on your education is thrown away.” “My dear father,” he
replied, “I will gladly learn—in fact, if it were possible I should like to
learn to shudder; I don’t understand that a bit yet.” The eldest laughed when
he heard this, and thought to himself: “Good heavens! what a ninny my
brother is! he’ll never come to any good; as the twig is bent, so is the tree
inclined.” The father sighed, and answered him: “You’ll soon learn to
shudder; but that won’t help you to make a living.”
Shortly after this, when the sexton came to pay them a visit, the father
broke out to him, and told him what a bad hand his youngest son was at
everything: he knew nothing and learned nothing. “Only think! when I
asked him how he purposed gaining a livelihood, he actually asked to be
taught to shudder.” “If that’s all he wants,” said the sexton, “I can teach him
that; just you send him to me, I’ll soon polish him up.” The father was quite
pleased with the proposal, because he thought: “It will be a good discipline

for the youth.” And so the sexton took him into his house, and his duty was
to toll the bell. After a few days he woke him at midnight, and bade him rise
and climb into the tower and toll. “Now, my friend, I’ll teach you to
shudder,” thought he. He stole forth secretly in front, and when the youth
was up above, and had turned round to grasp the bell-rope, he saw, standing
opposite the hole of the belfry, a white figure. “Who’s there?” he called out,
but the figure gave no answer, and neither stirred nor moved. “Answer,”
cried the youth, “or begone; you have no business here at this hour of the
night.” But the sexton remained motionless, so that the youth might think
that it was a ghost. The youth called out the second time: “What do you
want here? Speak if you are an honest fellow, or I’ll knock you down the
stairs.” The sexton thought: “He can’t mean that in earnest,” so gave forth
no sound, and stood as though he were made of stone. Then the youth
shouted out to him the third time, and as that too had no effect, he made a
dash at the spectre and knocked it down the stairs, so that it fell about ten
steps and remained lying in a corner. Thereupon he tolled the bell, went
home to bed without saying a word, and fell asleep. The sexton’s wife
waited a long time for her husband, but he never appeared. At last she
became anxious, and woke the youth, and asked: “Don’t you know where
my husband is? He went up to the tower in front of you.” “No,” answered
the youth; “but someone stood on the stairs up there just opposite the trap-
door in the belfry, and because he wouldn’t answer me, or go away, I took
him for a rogue and knocked him down. You’d better go and see if it was
he; I should be much distressed if it were.” The wife ran and found her
husband who was lying groaning in a corner, with his leg broken.
She carried him down, and then hurried with loud protestations to the
youth’s father. “Your son has been the cause of a pretty misfortune,” she
cried; “he threw my husband downstairs so that he broke his leg. Take the
good-for-nothing wretch out of our house.” The father was horrified,
hurried to the youth, and gave him a scolding.
“What unholy pranks are these? The evil one must have put them into
your head.” “Father,” he replied, “only listen to me; I am quite guiltless. He
stood there in the night, like one who meant harm. I didn’t know who it
was, and warned him three times to speak or begone.” “Oh!” groaned the
father, “you’ll bring me nothing but misfortune; get out of my sight, I won’t
have anything more to do with you.” “Yes, father, willingly; only wait till
daylight, then I’ll set out and learn to shudder, and in that way I shall be

master of an art which will gain me a living.” “Learn what you will,” said
the father, “it’s all one to me. Here are fifty dollars for you, set forth into the
wide world with them; but see you tell no one where you come from or who
your father is, for I am ashamed of you.” “Yes, father, whatever you wish;
and if that’s all you ask, I can easily keep it in mind.”
When day broke the youth put the fifty dollars into his pocket, set out on
the hard high road, and kept muttering to himself: “If I could only shudder!
if I could only shudder!” Just at this moment a man came by who heard the
youth speaking to himself, and when they had gone on a bit and were in
sight of the gallows the man said to him: “Look! there is the tree where
seven people have been hanged, and are now learning to fly; sit down under
it and wait till nightfall, and then you’ll pretty soon learn to shudder.” “If
that’s all I have to do,” answered the youth, “it’s easily done; but if I learn
to shudder so quickly, then you shall have my fifty dollars. Just come back
to me to-morrow morning early.” Then the youth went to the gallows-tree
and sat down underneath it, and waited for the evening; and because he felt
cold he lit himself a fire. But at midnight it got so chill that in spite of the
fire he couldn’t keep warm. And as the wind blew the corpses one against
the other, tossing them to and fro, he thought to himself: “If you are
perishing down here by the fire, how those poor things up there must be
shaking and shivering!” And because he had a tender heart, he put up a
ladder, which he climbed unhooked one body after the other, and took down
all the seven. Then he stirred the fire, blew it up, and placed them all round
in a circle, that they might warm themselves. But they sat there and did not
move, and the fire caught their clothes. Then he spoke: “Take care, or I’ll
hang you up again.” But the dead men did not hear and let their rags go on
burning. Then he got angry, and said: “If you aren’t careful yourselves, then
I can’t help you, and I don’t mean to burn with you”; and he hung them up
again in a row. Then he sat down at his fire and fell asleep. On the
following morning the man came to him, and, wishing to get his fifty
dollars, said: “Now you know what it is to shudder.” “No,” he answered,
“how should I? Those fellows up there never opened their mouths, and were
so stupid that they let those few old tatters they have on their bodies burn.”
Then the man saw he wouldn’t get his fifty dollars that day, and went off,
saying: “Well, I’m blessed if I ever met such a person in my life before.”
The youth went too on his way, and began to murmur to himself: “Oh! if
I could only shudder! if I could only shudder!” A carrier who was walking

behind him heard these words, and asked him: “Who are you” “I don’t
know,” said the youth. “Where do you hail from?” “I don’t know.” “Who’s
your father?” “I mayn’t say.” “What are you constantly muttering to
yourself?” “Oh!” said the youth, “I would give worlds to shudder, but no
one can teach me.” “Stuff and nonsense!” spoke the carrier; “come along
with me, and I’ll soon put that right.” The youth went with the carrier, and
in the evening they reached an inn, where they were to spend the night.
Then, just as he was entering the room, he said again, quite aloud: “Oh! if I
could only shudder! if I could only shudder!” The landlord, who heard this,
laughed and said: “If that’s what you’re sighing for, you shall be given
every opportunity here.” “Oh! hold your tongue!” said the landlord’s wife;
“so many people have paid for their curiosity with their lives, it were a
thousand pities if those beautiful eyes were never again to behold daylight.”
But the youth said: “No matter how difficult, I insist on learning it; why,
that’s what I’ve set out to do.” He left the landlord no peace till he told him
that in the neighborhood stood a haunted castle, where one could easily
learn to shudder if one only kept watch in it for three nights. The King had
promised the man who dared to do this thing his daughter as wife, and she
was the most beautiful maiden under the sun. There was also much treasure
hid in the castle, guarded by evil spirits, which would then be free, and was
sufficient to make a poor man more than rich. Many had already gone in,
but so far none had ever come out again. So the youth went to the King and
spoke: “If I were allowed, I should much like to watch for three nights in
the castle.” The King looked at him, and because he pleased him, he said:
“You can ask for three things, none of them living, and those you may take
with you into the castle.” Then he answered: “Well, I shall beg for a fire, a
turning lathe, and a carving bench with the knife attached.”
On the following day the King had everything put into the castle; and
when night drew on the youth took up his position there, lit a bright fire in
one of the rooms, placed the carving bench with the knife close to it, and sat
himself down on the turning lathe. “Oh! if I could only shudder!” he said:
“but I sha’n’t learn it here either.” Toward midnight he wanted to make up
the fire, and as he was blowing up a blaze he heard a shriek from a corner.
“Ou, miou! how cold we are!” “You fools!” he cried; “why do you scream?
If you are cold, come and sit at the fire and warm yourselves.” And as he
spoke two huge black cats sprang fiercely forward and sat down, one on
each side of him, and gazed wildly at him with their fiery eyes. After a time,

when they had warmed themselves, they said: “Friend, shall we play a little
game of cards?” “Why not?” he replied; “but first let me see your paws.”
Then they stretched out their claws. “Ha!” said he; “what long nails you’ve
got! Wait a minute: I must first cut them off.” Thereupon he seized them by
the scruff of their necks, lifted them on to the carving bench, and screwed
down their paws firmly. “After watching you narrowly,” said he, “I no
longer feel any desire to play cards with you”; and with these words he
struck them dead and threw them out into the water. But when he had thus
sent the two of them to their final rest, and was again about to sit down at
the fire, out of every nook and corner came forth black cats and black dogs
with fiery chains in such swarms that he couldn’t possibly get away from
them. They yelled in the most ghastly manner, jumped upon his fire,
scattered it all, and tried to put it out. He looked on quietly for a time, but
when it got beyond a joke he seized his carving-knife and called out: “Be
off, you rabble rout!” and let fly at them. Some of them fled away, and the
others he struck dead and threw them out into the pond below. When he
returned he blew up the sparks of the fire once more, and warmed himself.
And as he sat thus his eyes refused to keep open any longer, and a desire to
sleep stole over him. Then he looked around him and beheld in the corner a
large bed. “The very thing,” he said, and laid himself down in it. But when
he wished to close his eyes the bed began to move by itself, and ran all
round the castle. “Capital,” he said, “only a little quicker.” Then the bed
sped on as if drawn by six horses, over thresholds and stairs, up this way
and down that. All of a sudden—crash, crash! with a bound it turned over,
upside down, and lay like a mountain on the top of him. But he tossed the
blankets and pillows in the air, emerged from underneath, and said: “Now
anyone who has the fancy for it may go a drive,” lay down at his fire, and
slept till daylight. In the morning the King came, and when he beheld him
lying on the ground he imagined the ghosts had been too much for him, and
that he was dead. Then he said: “What a pity! and such a fine fellow he
was.” The youth heard this, got up, and said: “It’s not come to that yet.”
Then the King was astonished, but very glad, and asked how it had fared
with him. “First-rate,” he answered; “and now I’ve survived the one night, I
shall get through the other two also.” The landlord, when he went to him,
opened his eyes wide, and said: “Well, I never thought to see you alive
again. Have you learned now what shuddering is?” “No,” he replied, “it’s
quite hopeless; if someone could only tell me how to!”

The second night he went up again to the old castle, sat down at the fire,
and began his old refrain: “If I could only shudder!” As midnight
approached, a noise and din broke out, at first gentle, but gradually
increasing; then all was quiet for a minute, and at length, with a loud
scream, half of a man dropped down the chimney and fell before him. “Hi,
up there!” shouted he; “there’s another half wanted down here, that’s not
enough”; then the din commenced once more, there was a shrieking and a
yelling, and then the other half fell down. “Wait a bit,” he said; “I’ll stir up
the fire for you.” When he had done this and again looked around, the two
pieces had united, and a horrible-looking man sat on his seat. “Come,” said
the youth, “I didn’t bargain for that, the seat is mine.” The man tried to
shove him away, but the youth wouldn’t allow it for a moment, and,
pushing him off by force, sat down in his place again. Then more men
dropped down, one after the other, who fetching nine skeleton legs and two
skulls, put them up and played ninepins with them. The youth thought he
would like to play too, and said: “Look here; do you mind my joining the
game?” “No, not if you have money.” “I’ve money enough,” he replied,
“but your balls aren’t round enough.” Then he took the skulls, placed them
on his lathe, and turned them till they were round. “Now they’ll roll along
better,” said he, “and houp-la! now the fun begins.” He played with them
and lost some of his money, but when twelve struck everything vanished
before his eyes. He lay down and slept peacefully. The next morning the
King came, anxious for news. “How have you got on this time?” he asked.
“I played ninepins,” he answered, “and lost a few pence.” “Didn’t you
shudder then?” “No such luck,” said he; “I made myself merry. Oh! if I
only knew what it was to shudder!”
On the third night he sat down again on his bench, and said, in the most
desponding way: “If I could only shudder!” When it got late, six big men
came in carrying a coffin. Then he cried: “Ha! ha! that’s most likely my
little cousin who only died a few days ago”; and beckoning with his finger
he called out: “Come, my small cousin, come.” They placed the coffin on
the ground, and he approached it and took off the cover. In it lay a dead
man. He felt his face, and it was cold as ice. “Wait,” he said “I’ll heat you
up a bit,” went to the fire, warmed his hand, and laid it on the man’s face,
but the dead remained cold. Then he lifted him out, sat down at the fire, laid
him on his knee, and rubbed his arms that the blood should circulate again.
When that too had no effect it occurred to him that if two people lay

together in bed they warmed each other; so he put him into the bed, covered
him up, and lay down beside him; after a time the corpse became warm and
began to move. Then the youth said: “Now, my little cousin, what would
have happened if I hadn’t warmed you?” But the dead man rose up and
cried out: “Now I will strangle you.” “What!” said he, “is that all the thanks
I get? You should be put straight back into your coffin,” lifted him up, threw
him in, and closed the lid. Then the six men came and carried him out
again. “I simply can’t shudder,” he said, “and it’s clear I sha’n’t learn it in a
lifetime here.”
Then a man entered, of more than ordinary size and of a very fearful
appearance; but he was old and had a white beard. “Oh! you miserable
creature, now you will soon know what it is to shudder,” he cried, “for you
must die.” “Not so quickly,” answered the youth. “If I am to die, you must
catch me first.” “I shall soon lay hold of you,” spoke the monster. “Gently,
gently, don’t boast too much, I’m as strong as you, and stronger too.”
“We’ll soon see,” said the old man; “if you are stronger than I then I’ll let
you off; come, let’s have a try.” Then he led him through some dark
passages to a forge, and grasping an axe he drove one of the anvils with a
blow into the earth. “I can do better than that,” cried the youth, and went to
the other anvil. The old man drew near him in order to watch closely, and
his white beard hung right down. The youth seized the axe, cleft the anvil
open, and jammed in the old man’s beard. “Now I have you,” said the
youth; “this time it’s your turn to die.” Then he seized an iron rod and
belabored the old man till he, whimpering, begged him to leave off, and he
would give him great riches. The youth drew out the axe and let him go.
The old man led him back to the castle and showed him in a cellar three
chests of gold. “One of these,” said he, “belongs to the poor, one to the
King, and the third is yours.” At that moment twelve struck, and the spirit
vanished, leaving the youth alone in the dark. “I’ll surely be able to find a
way out,” said he, and groping about he at length found his way back to the
room, and fell asleep at his fire. The next morning the King came, and said:
“Well, now you’ve surely learned to shudder?” “No,” he answered; “what
can it be? My dead cousin was here, and an old bearded man came, who
showed me heaps of money down below there, but what shuddering is no
one has told me.” Then the King spoke: “You have freed the castle from its
curse, and you shall marry my daughter.” “That’s all charming,” he said;
“but I still don’t know what it is to shudder.”

Then the gold was brought up, and the wedding was celebrated, but the
young King, though he loved his wife dearly, and though he was very
happy, still kept on saying: “If I could only shudder! if I could only
shudder!” At last he reduced her to despair. Then her maid said: “I’ll help
you; we’ll soon make him shudder.” So she went out to the stream that
flowed through the garden, and had a pail full of little gudgeons brought to
her. At night, when the young King was asleep, his wife had to pull the
clothes off him, and pour the pail full of little gudgeons over him, so that
the little fish swam all about him. Then he awoke and cried out: “Oh! how I
shudder, how I shudder, dear wife! Yes, now I know what shuddering is.”
(1)
(1) Grimm.

RUMPELSTILTZKIN
There was once upon a time a poor miller who had a very beautiful
daughter. Now it happened one day that he had an audience with the King,
and in order to appear a person of some importance he told him that he had
a daughter who could spin straw into gold. “Now that’s a talent worth
having,” said the King to the miller; “if your daughter is as clever as you
say, bring her to my palace to-morrow, and I’ll put her to the test.” When
the girl was brought to him he led her into a room full of straw, gave her a
spinning-wheel and spindle, and said: “Now set to work and spin all night
till early dawn, and if by that time you haven’t spun the straw into gold you
shall die.” Then he closed the door behind him and left her alone inside.
So the poor miller’s daughter sat down, and didn’t know what in the
world she was to do. She hadn’t the least idea of how to spin straw into
gold, and became at last so miserable that she began to cry. Suddenly the
door opened, and in stepped a tiny little man and said: “Good-evening, Miss
Miller-maid; why are you crying so bitterly?” “Oh!” answered the girl, “I
have to spin straw into gold, and haven’t a notion how it’s done.” “What
will you give me if I spin it for you?” asked the manikin. “My necklace,”
replied the girl. The little man took the necklace, sat himself down at the
wheel, and whir, whir, whir, the wheel went round three times, and the
bobbin was full. Then he put on another, and whir, whir, whir, the wheel
went round three times, and the second too was full; and so it went on till
the morning, when all the straw was spun away, and all the bobbins were
full of gold. As soon as the sun rose the King came, and when he perceived
the gold he was astonished and delighted, but his heart only lusted more
than ever after the precious metal. He had the miller’s daughter put into
another room full of straw, much bigger than the first, and bade her, if she
valued her life, spin it all into gold before the following morning. The girl
didn’t know what to do, and began to cry; then the door opened as before,
and the tiny little man appeared and said: “What’ll you give me if I spin the
straw into gold for you?” “The ring from my finger,” answered the girl. The
manikin took the ring, and whir! round went the spinning-wheel again, and
when morning broke he had spun all the straw into glittering gold. The King

was pleased beyond measure at the sights but his greed for gold was still
not satisfied, and he had the miller’s daughter brought into a yet bigger
room full of straw, and said: “You must spin all this away in the night; but if
you succeed this time you shall become my wife.” “She’s only a miller’s
daughter, it’s true,” he thought; “but I couldn’t find a richer wife if I were to
search the whole world over.” When the girl was alone the little man
appeared for the third time, and said: “What’ll you give me if I spin the
straw for you once again?” “I’ve nothing more to give,” answered the girl.
“Then promise me when you are Queen to give me your first child.” “Who
knows what may not happen before that?” thought the miller’s daughter;
and besides, she saw no other way out of it, so she promised the manikin
what he demanded, and he set to work once more and spun the straw into
gold. When the King came in the morning, and found everything as he had
desired, he straightway made her his wife, and the miller’s daughter became
a queen.
When a year had passed a beautiful son was born to her, and she thought
no more of the little man, till all of a sudden one day he stepped into her
room and said: “Now give me what you promised.” The Queen was in a
great state, and offered the little man all the riches in her kingdom if he
would only leave her the child. But the manikin said: “No, a living creature
is dearer to me than all the treasures in the world.” Then the Queen began to
cry and sob so bitterly that the little man was sorry for her, and said: “I’ll
give you three days to guess my name, and if you find it out in that time
you may keep your child.”
Then the Queen pondered the whole night over all the names she had
ever heard, and sent a messenger to scour the land, and to pick up far and
near any names he could come across. When the little man arrived on the
following day she began with Kasper, Melchior, Belshazzar, and all the
other names she knew, in a string, but at each one the manikin called out:
“That’s not my name.” The next day she sent to inquire the names of all the
people in the neighborhood, and had a long list of the most uncommon and
extraordinary for the little man when he made his appearance. “Is your
name, perhaps, Sheepshanks Cruickshanks, Spindleshanks?” but he always
replied: “That’s not my name.” On the third day the messenger returned and
announced: “I have not been able to find any new names, but as I came
upon a high hill round the corner of the wood, where the foxes and hares
bid each other good-night, I saw a little house, and in front of the house

burned a fire, and round the fire sprang the most grotesque little man,
hopping on one leg and crying:
“To-morrow I brew, to-day I bake,
And then the child away I’ll take;
For little deems my royal dame
That Rumpelstiltzkin is my name!”

You can imagine the Queen’s delight at hearing the name, and when the
little man stepped in shortly afterward and asked: “Now, my lady Queen,
what’s my name?” she asked first: “Is your name Conrad?” “No.” “Is your
name Harry?” “No.” “Is your name perhaps, Rumpelstiltzkin?” “Some
demon has told you that! some demon has told you that!” screamed the little
man, and in his rage drove his right foot so far into the ground that it sank
in up to his waist; then in a passion he seized the left foot with both hands
and tore himself in two.(1)
(1) Grimm.

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST
Once upon a time, in a very far-off country, there lived a merchant who
had been so fortunate in all his undertakings that he was enormously rich.
As he had, however, six sons and six daughters, he found that his money
was not too much to let them all have everything they fancied, as they were
accustomed to do.
But one day a most unexpected misfortune befell them. Their house
caught fire and was speedily burnt to the ground, with all the splendid
furniture, the books, pictures, gold, silver, and precious goods it contained;
and this was only the beginning of their troubles. Their father, who had until
this moment prospered in all ways, suddenly lost every ship he had upon
the sea, either by dint of pirates, shipwreck, or fire. Then he heard that his
clerks in distant countries, whom he trusted entirely, had proved unfaithful;
and at last from great wealth he fell into the direst poverty.
All that he had left was a little house in a desolate place at least a
hundred leagues from the town in which he had lived, and to this he was
forced to retreat with his children, who were in despair at the idea of
leading such a different life. Indeed, the daughters at first hoped that their
friends, who had been so numerous while they were rich, would insist on
their staying in their houses now they no longer possessed one. But they
soon found that they were left alone, and that their former friends even
attributed their misfortunes to their own extravagance, and showed no
intention of offering them any help. So nothing was left for them but to take
their departure to the cottage, which stood in the midst of a dark forest, and
seemed to be the most dismal place upon the face of the earth. As they were
too poor to have any servants, the girls had to work hard, like peasants, and
the sons, for their part, cultivated the fields to earn their living. Roughly
clothed, and living in the simplest way, the girls regretted unceasingly the
luxuries and amusements of their former life; only the youngest tried to be
brave and cheerful. She had been as sad as anyone when misfortune
overtook her father, but, soon recovering her natural gaiety, she set to work
to make the best of things, to amuse her father and brothers as well as she
could, and to try to persuade her sisters to join her in dancing and singing.

But they would do nothing of the sort, and, because she was not as doleful
as themselves, they declared that this miserable life was all she was fit for.
But she was really far prettier and cleverer than they were; indeed, she was
so lovely that she was always called Beauty. After two years, when they
were all beginning to get used to their new life, something happened to
disturb their tranquillity. Their father received the news that one of his
ships, which he had believed to be lost, had come safely into port with a
rich cargo. All the sons and daughters at once thought that their poverty was
at an end, and wanted to set out directly for the town; but their father, who
was more prudent, begged them to wait a little, and, though it was harvest
time, and he could ill be spared, determined to go himself first, to make
inquiries. Only the youngest daughter had any doubt but that they would
soon again be as rich as they were before, or at least rich enough to live
comfortably in some town where they would find amusement and gay
companions once more. So they all loaded their father with commissions
for jewels and dresses which it would have taken a fortune to buy; only
Beauty, feeling sure that it was of no use, did not ask for anything. Her
father, noticing her silence, said: “And what shall I bring for you, Beauty?”
“The only thing I wish for is to see you come home safely,” she
answered.
But this only vexed her sisters, who fancied she was blaming them for
having asked for such costly things. Her father, however, was pleased, but
as he thought that at her age she certainly ought to like pretty presents, he
told her to choose something.
“Well, dear father,” she said, “as you insist upon it, I beg that you will
bring me a rose. I have not seen one since we came here, and I love them so
much.”
So the merchant set out and reached the town as quickly as possible, but
only to find that his former companions, believing him to be dead, had
divided between them the goods which the ship had brought; and after six
months of trouble and expense he found himself as poor as when he started,
having been able to recover only just enough to pay the cost of his journey.
To make matters worse, he was obliged to leave the town in the most
terrible weather, so that by the time he was within a few leagues of his
home he was almost exhausted with cold and fatigue. Though he knew it
would take some hours to get through the forest, he was so anxious to be at

his journey’s end that he resolved to go on; but night overtook him, and the
deep snow and bitter frost made it impossible for his horse to carry him any
further. Not a house was to be seen; the only shelter he could get was the
hollow trunk of a great tree, and there he crouched all the night which
seemed to him the longest he had ever known. In spite of his weariness the
howling of the wolves kept him awake, and even when at last the day broke
he was not much better off, for the falling snow had covered up every path,
and he did not know which way to turn.
At length he made out some sort of track, and though at the beginning it
was so rough and slippery that he fell down more than once, it presently
became easier, and led him into an avenue of trees which ended in a
splendid castle. It seemed to the merchant very strange that no snow had
fallen in the avenue, which was entirely composed of orange trees, covered
with flowers and fruit. When he reached the first court of the castle he saw
before him a flight of agate steps, and went up them, and passed through
several splendidly furnished rooms. The pleasant warmth of the air revived
him, and he felt very hungry; but there seemed to be nobody in all this vast
and splendid palace whom he could ask to give him something to eat. Deep
silence reigned everywhere, and at last, tired of roaming through empty
rooms and galleries, he stopped in a room smaller than the rest, where a
clear fire was burning and a couch was drawn up closely to it. Thinking that
this must be prepared for someone who was expected, he sat down to wait
till he should come, and very soon fell into a sweet sleep.
When his extreme hunger wakened him after several hours, he was still
alone; but a little table, upon which was a good dinner, had been drawn up
close to him, and, as he had eaten nothing for twenty-four hours, he lost no
time in beginning his meal, hoping that he might soon have an opportunity
of thanking his considerate entertainer, whoever it might be. But no one
appeared, and even after another long sleep, from which he awoke
completely refreshed, there was no sign of anybody, though a fresh meal of
dainty cakes and fruit was prepared upon the little table at his elbow. Being
naturally timid, the silence began to terrify him, and he resolved to search
once more through all the rooms; but it was of no use. Not even a servant
was to be seen; there was no sign of life in the palace! He began to wonder
what he should do, and to amuse himself by pretending that all the treasures
he saw were his own, and considering how he would divide them among his
children. Then he went down into the garden, and though it was winter

everywhere else, here the sun shone, and the birds sang, and the flowers
bloomed, and the air was soft and sweet. The merchant, in ecstacies with all
he saw and heard, said to himself:
“All this must be meant for me. I will go this minute and bring my
children to share all these delights.”
In spite of being so cold and weary when he reached the castle, he had
taken his horse to the stable and fed it. Now he thought he would saddle it
for his homeward journey, and he turned down the path which led to the
stable. This path had a hedge of roses on each side of it, and the merchant
thought he had never seen or smelt such exquisite flowers. They reminded
him of his promise to Beauty, and he stopped and had just gathered one to
take to her when he was startled by a strange noise behind him. Turning
round, he saw a frightful Beast, which seemed to be very angry and said, in
a terrible voice:
“Who told you that you might gather my roses? Was it not enough that I
allowed you to be in my palace and was kind to you? This is the way you
show your gratitude, by stealing my flowers! But your insolence shall not
go unpunished.” The merchant, terrified by these furious words, dropped
the fatal rose, and, throwing himself on his knees, cried: “Pardon me, noble
sir. I am truly grateful to you for your hospitality, which was so magnificent
that I could not imagine that you would be offended by my taking such a
little thing as a rose.” But the Beast’s anger was not lessened by this speech.
“You are very ready with excuses and flattery,” he cried; “but that will
not save you from the death you deserve.”
“Alas!” thought the merchant, “if my daughter could only know what
danger her rose has brought me into!”
And in despair he began to tell the Beast all his misfortunes, and the
reason of his journey, not forgetting to mention Beauty’s request.
“A king’s ransom would hardly have procured all that my other daughters
asked.” he said: “but I thought that I might at least take Beauty her rose. I
beg you to forgive me, for you see I meant no harm.”
The Beast considered for a moment, and then he said, in a less furious
tone:
“I will forgive you on one condition—that is, that you will give me one
of your daughters.”

“Ah!” cried the merchant, “if I were cruel enough to buy my own life at
the expense of one of my children’s, what excuse could I invent to bring her
here?”
“No excuse would be necessary,” answered the Beast. “If she comes at all
she must come willingly. On no other condition will I have her. See if any
one of them is courageous enough, and loves you well enough to come and
save your life. You seem to be an honest man, so I will trust you to go
home. I give you a month to see if either of your daughters will come back
with you and stay here, to let you go free. If neither of them is willing, you
must come alone, after bidding them good-by for ever, for then you will
belong to me. And do not imagine that you can hide from me, for if you fail
to keep your word I will come and fetch you!” added the Beast grimly.
The merchant accepted this proposal, though he did not really think any
of his daughters could be persuaded to come. He promised to return at the
time appointed, and then, anxious to escape from the presence of the Beast,
he asked permission to set off at once. But the Beast answered that he could
not go until next day.
“Then you will find a horse ready for you,” he said. “Now go and eat
your supper, and await my orders.”
The poor merchant, more dead than alive, went back to his room, where
the most delicious supper was already served on the little table which was
drawn up before a blazing fire. But he was too terrified to eat, and only
tasted a few of the dishes, for fear the Beast should be angry if he did not
obey his orders. When he had finished he heard a great noise in the next
room, which he knew meant that the Beast was coming. As he could do
nothing to escape his visit, the only thing that remained was to seem as little
afraid as possible; so when the Beast appeared and asked roughly if he had
supped well, the merchant answered humbly that he had, thanks to his
host’s kindness. Then the Beast warned him to remember their agreement,
and to prepare his daughter exactly for what she had to expect.
“Do not get up to-morrow,” he added, “until you see the sun and hear a
golden bell ring. Then you will find your breakfast waiting for you here,
and the horse you are to ride will be ready in the courtyard. He will also
bring you back again when you come with your daughter a month hence.
Farewell. Take a rose to Beauty, and remember your promise!”

The merchant was only too glad when the Beast went away, and though
he could not sleep for sadness, he lay down until the sun rose. Then, after a
hasty breakfast, he went to gather Beauty’s rose, and mounted his horse,
which carried him off so swiftly that in an instant he had lost sight of the
palace, and he was still wrapped in gloomy thoughts when it stopped before
the door of the cottage.
His sons and daughters, who had been very uneasy at his long absence,
rushed to meet him, eager to know the result of his journey, which, seeing
him mounted upon a splendid horse and wrapped in a rich mantle, they
supposed to be favorable. He hid the truth from them at first, only saying
sadly to Beauty as he gave her the rose:
“Here is what you asked me to bring you; you little know what it has
cost.”
But this excited their curiosity so greatly that presently he told them his
adventures from beginning to end, and then they were all very unhappy. The
girls lamented loudly over their lost hopes, and the sons declared that their
father should not return to this terrible castle, and began to make plans for
killing the Beast if it should come to fetch him. But he reminded them that
he had promised to go back. Then the girls were very angry with Beauty,
and said it was all her fault, and that if she had asked for something sensible
this would never have happened, and complained bitterly that they should
have to suffer for her folly.
Poor Beauty, much distressed, said to them:
“I have, indeed, caused this misfortune, but I assure you I did it
innocently. Who could have guessed that to ask for a rose in the middle of
summer would cause so much misery? But as I did the mischief it is only
just that I should suffer for it. I will therefore go back with my father to
keep his promise.”
At first nobody would hear of this arrangement, and her father and
brothers, who loved her dearly, declared that nothing should make them let
her go; but Beauty was firm. As the time drew near she divided all her little
possessions between her sisters, and said good-by to everything she loved,
and when the fatal day came she encouraged and cheered her father as they
mounted together the horse which had brought him back. It seemed to fly
rather than gallop, but so smoothly that Beauty was not frightened; indeed,
she would have enjoyed the journey if she had not feared what might

happen to her at the end of it. Her father still tried to persuade her to go
back, but in vain. While they were talking the night fell, and then, to their
great surprise, wonderful colored lights began to shine in all directions, and
splendid fireworks blazed out before them; all the forest was illuminated by
them, and even felt pleasantly warm, though it had been bitterly cold
before. This lasted until they reached the avenue of orange trees, where
were statues holding flaming torches, and when they got nearer to the
palace they saw that it was illuminated from the roof to the ground, and
music sounded softly from the courtyard. “The Beast must be very hungry,”
said Beauty, trying to laugh, “if he makes all this rejoicing over the arrival
of his prey.”
But, in spite of her anxiety, she could not help admiring all the wonderful
things she saw.
The horse stopped at the foot of the flight of steps leading to the terrace,
and when they had dismounted her father led her to the little room he had
been in before, where they found a splendid fire burning, and the table
daintily spread with a delicious supper.
The merchant knew that this was meant for them, and Beauty, who was
rather less frightened now that she had passed through so many rooms and
seen nothing of the Beast, was quite willing to begin, for her long ride had
made her very hungry. But they had hardly finished their meal when the
noise of the Beast’s footsteps was heard approaching, and Beauty clung to
her father in terror, which became all the greater when she saw how
frightened he was. But when the Beast really appeared, though she trembled
at the sight of him, she made a great effort to hide her terror, and saluted
him respectfully.
This evidently pleased the Beast. After looking at her he said, in a tone
that might have struck terror into the boldest heart, though he did not seem
to be angry:
“Good-evening, old man. Good-evening, Beauty.”
The merchant was too terrified to reply, but Beauty answered sweetly:
“Good-evening, Beast.”
“Have you come willingly?” asked the Beast. “Will you be content to
stay here when your father goes away?”
Beauty answered bravely that she was quite prepared to stay.

“I am pleased with you,” said the Beast. “As you have come of your own
accord, you may stay. As for you, old man,” he added, turning to the
merchant, “at sunrise to-morrow you will take your departure. When the
bell rings get up quickly and eat your breakfast, and you will find the same
horse waiting to take you home; but remember that you must never expect
to see my palace again.”
Then turning to Beauty, he said:
“Take your father into the next room, and help him to choose everything
you think your brothers and sisters would like to have. You will find two
traveling-trunks there; fill them as full as you can. It is only just that you
should send them something very precious as a remembrance of yourself.”
Then he went away, after saying, “Good-by, Beauty; good-by, old man”;
and though Beauty was beginning to think with great dismay of her father’s
departure, she was afraid to disobey the Beast’s orders; and they went into
the next room, which had shelves and cupboards all round it. They were
greatly surprised at the riches it contained. There were splendid dresses fit
for a queen, with all the ornaments that were to be worn with them; and
when Beauty opened the cupboards she was quite dazzled by the gorgeous
jewels that lay in heaps upon every shelf. After choosing a vast quantity,
which she divided between her sisters—for she had made a heap of the
wonderful dresses for each of them—she opened the last chest, which was
full of gold.
“I think, father,” she said, “that, as the gold will be more useful to you,
we had better take out the other things again, and fill the trunks with it.” So
they did this; but the more they put in the more room there seemed to be,
and at last they put back all the jewels and dresses they had taken out, and
Beauty even added as many more of the jewels as she could carry at once;
and then the trunks were not too full, but they were so heavy that an
elephant could not have carried them!
“The Beast was mocking us,” cried the merchant; “he must have
pretended to give us all these things, knowing that I could not carry them
away.”
“Let us wait and see,” answered Beauty. “I cannot believe that he meant
to deceive us. All we can do is to fasten them up and leave them ready.”
So they did this and returned to the little room, where, to their
astonishment, they found breakfast ready. The merchant ate his with a good

appetite, as the Beast’s generosity made him believe that he might perhaps
venture to come back soon and see Beauty. But she felt sure that her father
was leaving her for ever, so she was very sad when the bell rang sharply for
the second time, and warned them that the time had come for them to part.
They went down into the courtyard, where two horses were waiting, one
loaded with the two trunks, the other for him to ride. They were pawing the
ground in their impatience to start, and the merchant was forced to bid
Beauty a hasty farewell; and as soon as he was mounted he went off at such
a pace that she lost sight of him in an instant. Then Beauty began to cry, and
wandered sadly back to her own room. But she soon found that she was
very sleepy, and as she had nothing better to do she lay down and instantly
fell asleep. And then she dreamed that she was walking by a brook bordered
with trees, and lamenting her sad fate, when a young prince, handsomer
than anyone she had ever seen, and with a voice that went straight to her
heart, came and said to her, “Ah, Beauty! you are not so unfortunate as you
suppose. Here you will be rewarded for all you have suffered elsewhere.
Your every wish shall be gratified. Only try to find me out, no matter how I
may be disguised, as I love you dearly, and in making me happy you will
find your own happiness. Be as true-hearted as you are beautiful, and we
shall have nothing left to wish for.”
“What can I do, Prince, to make you happy?” said Beauty.
“Only be grateful,” he answered, “and do not trust too much to your eyes.
And, above all, do not desert me until you have saved me from my cruel
misery.”
After this she thought she found herself in a room with a stately and
beautiful lady, who said to her:
“Dear Beauty, try not to regret all you have left behind you, for you are
destined to a better fate. Only do not let yourself be deceived by
appearances.”
Beauty found her dreams so interesting that she was in no hurry to
awake, but presently the clock roused her by calling her name softly twelve
times, and then she got up and found her dressing-table set out with
everything she could possibly want; and when her toilet was finished she
found dinner was waiting in the room next to hers. But dinner does not take
very long when you are all by yourself, and very soon she sat down cosily

in the corner of a sofa, and began to think about the charming Prince she
had seen in her dream.
“He said I could make him happy,” said Beauty to herself.
“It seems, then, that this horrible Beast keeps him a prisoner. How can I
set him free? I wonder why they both told me not to trust to appearances? I
don’t understand it. But, after all, it was only a dream, so why should I
trouble myself about it? I had better go and find something to do to amuse
myself.”
So she got up and began to explore some of the many rooms of the
palace.
The first she entered was lined with mirrors, and Beauty saw herself
reflected on every side, and thought she had never seen such a charming
room. Then a bracelet which was hanging from a chandelier caught her eye,
and on taking it down she was greatly surprised to find that it held a portrait
of her unknown admirer, just as she had seen him in her dream. With great
delight she slipped the bracelet on her arm, and went on into a gallery of
pictures, where she soon found a portrait of the same handsome Prince, as
large as life, and so well painted that as she studied it he seemed to smile
kindly at her. Tearing herself away from the portrait at last, she passed
through into a room which contained every musical instrument under the
sun, and here she amused herself for a long while in trying some of them,
and singing until she was tired. The next room was a library, and she saw
everything she had ever wanted to read, as well as everything she had read,
and it seemed to her that a whole lifetime would not be enough to even read
the names of the books, there were so many. By this time it was growing
dusk, and wax candles in diamond and ruby candlesticks were beginning to
light themselves in every room.
Beauty found her supper served just at the time she preferred to have it,
but she did not see anyone or hear a sound, and, though her father had
warned her that she would be alone, she began to find it rather dull.
But presently she heard the Beast coming, and wondered tremblingly if
he meant to eat her up now.
However, as he did not seem at all ferocious, and only said gruffly:
“Good-evening, Beauty,” she answered cheerfully and managed to
conceal her terror. Then the Beast asked her how she had been amusing

herself, and she told him all the rooms she had seen.
Then he asked if she thought she could be happy in his palace; and
Beauty answered that everything was so beautiful that she would be very
hard to please if she could not be happy. And after about an hour’s talk
Beauty began to think that the Beast was not nearly so terrible as she had
supposed at first. Then he got up to leave her, and said in his gruff voice:
“Do you love me, Beauty? Will you marry me?”
“Oh! what shall I say?” cried Beauty, for she was afraid to make the
Beast angry by refusing.
“Say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ without fear,” he replied.
“Oh! no, Beast,” said Beauty hastily.
“Since you will not, good-night, Beauty,” he said.
And she answered, “Good-night, Beast,” very glad to find that her refusal
had not provoked him. And after he was gone she was very soon in bed and
asleep, and dreaming of her unknown Prince. She thought he came and said
to her:
“Ah, Beauty! why are you so unkind to me? I fear I am fated to be
unhappy for many a long day still.”
And then her dreams changed, but the charming Prince figured in them
all; and when morning came her first thought was to look at the portrait, and
see if it was really like him, and she found that it certainly was.
This morning she decided to amuse herself in the garden, for the sun
shone, and all the fountains were playing; but she was astonished to find
that every place was familiar to her, and presently she came to the brook
where the myrtle trees were growing where she had first met the Prince in
her dream, and that made her think more than ever that he must be kept a
prisoner by the Beast. When she was tired she went back to the palace, and
found a new room full of materials for every kind of work—ribbons to
make into bows, and silks to work into flowers. Then there was an aviary
full of rare birds, which were so tame that they flew to Beauty as soon as
they saw her, and perched upon her shoulders and her head.
“Pretty little creatures,” she said, “how I wish that your cage was nearer
to my room, that I might often hear you sing!”

So saying she opened a door, and found, to her delight, that it led into her
own room, though she had thought it was quite the other side of the palace.
There were more birds in a room farther on, parrots and cockatoos that
could talk, and they greeted Beauty by name; indeed, she found them so
entertaining that she took one or two back to her room, and they talked to
her while she was at supper; after which the Beast paid her his usual visit,
and asked her the same questions as before, and then with a gruff “good-
night” he took his departure, and Beauty went to bed to dream of her
mysterious Prince. The days passed swiftly in different amusements, and
after a while Beauty found out another strange thing in the palace, which
often pleased her when she was tired of being alone. There was one room
which she had not noticed particularly; it was empty, except that under each
of the windows stood a very comfortable chair; and the first time she had
looked out of the window it had seemed to her that a black curtain
prevented her from seeing anything outside. But the second time she went
into the room, happening to be tired, she sat down in one of the chairs,
when instantly the curtain was rolled aside, and a most amusing pantomime
was acted before her; there were dances, and colored lights, and music, and
pretty dresses, and it was all so gay that Beauty was in ecstacies. After that
she tried the other seven windows in turn, and there was some new and
surprising entertainment to be seen from each of them, so that Beauty never
could feel lonely any more. Every evening after supper the Beast came to
see her, and always before saying good-night asked her in his terrible voice:
“Beauty, will you marry me?”
And it seemed to Beauty, now she understood him better, that when she
said, “No, Beast,” he went away quite sad. But her happy dreams of the
handsome young Prince soon made her forget the poor Beast, and the only
thing that at all disturbed her was to be constantly told to distrust
appearances, to let her heart guide her, and not her eyes, and many other
equally perplexing things, which, consider as she would, she could not
understand.
So everything went on for a long time, until at last, happy as she was,
Beauty began to long for the sight of her father and her brothers and sisters;
and one night, seeing her look very sad, the Beast asked her what was the
matter. Beauty had quite ceased to be afraid of him. Now she knew that he
was really gentle in spite of his ferocious looks and his dreadful voice. So

she answered that she was longing to see her home once more. Upon
hearing this the Beast seemed sadly distressed, and cried miserably.
“Ah! Beauty, have you the heart to desert an unhappy Beast like this?
What more do you want to make you happy? Is it because you hate me that
you want to escape?”
“No, dear Beast,” answered Beauty softly, “I do not hate you, and I
should be very sorry never to see you any more, but I long to see my father
again. Only let me go for two months, and I promise to come back to you
and stay for the rest of my life.”
The Beast, who had been sighing dolefully while she spoke, now replied:
“I cannot refuse you anything you ask, even though it should cost me my
life. Take the four boxes you will find in the room next to your own, and fill
them with everything you wish to take with you. But remember your
promise and come back when the two months are over, or you may have
cause to repent it, for if you do not come in good time you will find your
faithful Beast dead. You will not need any chariot to bring you back. Only
say good-by to all your brothers and sisters the night before you come
away, and when you have gone to bed turn this ring round upon your finger
and say firmly: ‘I wish to go back to my palace and see my Beast again.’
Good-night, Beauty. Fear nothing, sleep peacefully, and before long you
shall see your father once more.”
As soon as Beauty was alone she hastened to fill the boxes with all the
rare and precious things she saw about her, and only when she was tired of
heaping things into them did they seem to be full.
Then she went to bed, but could hardly sleep for joy. And when at last
she did begin to dream of her beloved Prince she was grieved to see him
stretched upon a grassy bank, sad and weary, and hardly like himself.
“What is the matter?” she cried.
He looked at her reproachfully, and said:
“How can you ask me, cruel one? Are you not leaving me to my death
perhaps?”
“Ah! don’t be so sorrowful,” cried Beauty; “I am only going to assure my
father that I am safe and happy. I have promised the Beast faithfully that I
will come back, and he would die of grief if I did not keep my word!”

“What would that matter to you?” said the Prince “Surely you would not
care?”
“Indeed, I should be ungrateful if I did not care for such a kind Beast,”
cried Beauty indignantly. “I would die to save him from pain. I assure you it
is not his fault that he is so ugly.”
Just then a strange sound woke her—someone was speaking not very far
away; and opening her eyes she found herself in a room she had never seen
before, which was certainly not nearly so splendid as those she was used to
in the Beast’s palace. Where could she be? She got up and dressed hastily,
and then saw that the boxes she had packed the night before were all in the
room. While she was wondering by what magic the Beast had transported
them and herself to this strange place she suddenly heard her father’s voice,
and rushed out and greeted him joyfully. Her brothers and sisters were all
astonished at her appearance, as they had never expected to see her again,
and there was no end to the questions they asked her. She had also much to
hear about what had happened to them while she was away, and of her
father’s journey home. But when they heard that she had only come to be
with them for a short time, and then must go back to the Beast’s palace for
ever, they lamented loudly. Then Beauty asked her father what he thought
could be the meaning of her strange dreams, and why the Prince constantly
begged her not to trust to appearances. After much consideration, he
answered: “You tell me yourself that the Beast, frightful as he is, loves you
dearly, and deserves your love and gratitude for his gentleness and
kindness; I think the Prince must mean you to understand that you ought to
reward him by doing as he wishes you to, in spite of his ugliness.”
Beauty could not help seeing that this seemed very probable; still, when
she thought of her dear Prince who was so handsome, she did not feel at all
inclined to marry the Beast. At any rate, for two months she need not
decide, but could enjoy herself with her sisters. But though they were rich
now, and lived in town again, and had plenty of acquaintances, Beauty
found that nothing amused her very much; and she often thought of the
palace, where she was so happy, especially as at home she never once
dreamed of her dear Prince, and she felt quite sad without him.
Then her sisters seemed to have got quite used to being without her, and
even found her rather in the way, so she would not have been sorry when
the two months were over but for her father and brothers, who begged her

to stay, and seemed so grieved at the thought of her departure that she had
not the courage to say good-by to them. Every day when she got up she
meant to say it at night, and when night came she put it off again, until at
last she had a dismal dream which helped her to make up her mind. She
thought she was wandering in a lonely path in the palace gardens, when she
heard groans which seemed to come from some bushes hiding the entrance
of a cave, and running quickly to see what could be the matter, she found
the Beast stretched out upon his side, apparently dying. He reproached her
faintly with being the cause of his distress, and at the same moment a
stately lady appeared, and said very gravely:
“Ah! Beauty, you are only just in time to save his life. See what happens
when people do not keep their promises! If you had delayed one day more,
you would have found him dead.”
Beauty was so terrified by this dream that the next morning she
announced her intention of going back at once, and that very night she said
good-by to her father and all her brothers and sisters, and as soon as she
was in bed she turned her ring round upon her finger, and said firmly, “I
wish to go back to my palace and see my Beast again,” as she had been told
to do.
Then she fell asleep instantly, and only woke up to hear the clock saying
“Beauty, Beauty” twelve times in its musical voice, which told her at once
that she was really in the palace once more. Everything was just as before,
and her birds were so glad to see her! But Beauty thought she had never
known such a long day, for she was so anxious to see the Beast again that
she felt as if suppertime would never come.
But when it did come and no Beast appeared she was really frightened;
so, after listening and waiting for a long time, she ran down into the garden
to search for him. Up and down the paths and avenues ran poor Beauty,
calling him in vain, for no one answered, and not a trace of him could she
find; until at last, quite tired, she stopped for a minute’s rest, and saw that
she was standing opposite the shady path she had seen in her dream. She
rushed down it, and, sure enough, there was the cave, and in it lay the Beast
—asleep, as Beauty thought. Quite glad to have found him, she ran up and
stroked his head, but, to her horror, he did not move or open his eyes.
“Oh! he is dead; and it is all my fault,” said Beauty, crying bitterly.

But then, looking at him again, she fancied he still breathed, and, hastily
fetching some water from the nearest fountain, she sprinkled it over his
face, and, to her great delight, he began to revive.
“Oh! Beast, how you frightened me!” she cried. “I never knew how much
I loved you until just now, when I feared I was too late to save your life.”
“Can you really love such an ugly creature as I am?” said the Beast
faintly. “Ah! Beauty, you only came just in time. I was dying because I
thought you had forgotten your promise. But go back now and rest, I shall
see you again by and by.”
Beauty, who had half expected that he would be angry with her, was
reassured by his gentle voice, and went back to the palace, where supper
was awaiting her; and afterward the Beast came in as usual, and talked
about the time she had spent with her father, asking if she had enjoyed
herself, and if they had all been very glad to see her.
Beauty answered politely, and quite enjoyed telling him all that had
happened to her. And when at last the time came for him to go, and he
asked, as he had so often asked before, “Beauty, will you marry me?”
She answered softly, “Yes, dear Beast.”
As she spoke a blaze of light sprang up before the windows of the palace;
fireworks crackled and guns banged, and across the avenue of orange trees,
in letters all made of fire-flies, was written: “Long live the Prince and his
Bride.”
Turning to ask the Beast what it could all mean, Beauty found that he had
disappeared, and in his place stood her long-loved Prince! At the same
moment the wheels of a chariot were heard upon the terrace, and two ladies
entered the room. One of them Beauty recognized as the stately lady she
had seen in her dreams; the other was also so grand and queenly that Beauty
hardly knew which to greet first.
But the one she already knew said to her companion:
“Well, Queen, this is Beauty, who has had the courage to rescue your son
from the terrible enchantment. They love one another, and only your
consent to their marriage is wanting to make them perfectly happy.”
“I consent with all my heart,” cried the Queen. “How can I ever thank
you enough, charming girl, for having restored my dear son to his natural
form?”

And then she tenderly embraced Beauty and the Prince, who had
meanwhile been greeting the Fairy and receiving her congratulations.
“Now,” said the Fairy to Beauty, “I suppose you would like me to send
for all your brothers and sisters to dance at your wedding?”
And so she did, and the marriage was celebrated the very next day with
the utmost splendor, and Beauty and the Prince lived happily ever after.(1)
(1) La Belle et la Bete. Par Madame de Villeneuve.

THE MASTER-MAID
Once upon a time there was a king who had many sons. I do not exactly
know how many there were, but the youngest of them could not stay quietly
at home, and was determined to go out into the world and try his luck, and
after a long time the King was forced to give him leave to go. When he had
traveled about for several days, he came to a giant’s house, and hired
himself to the giant as a servant. In the morning the giant had to go out to
pasture his goats, and as he was leaving the house he told the King’s son
that he must clean out the stable. “And after you have done that,” he said,
“you need not do any more work to-day, for you have come to a kind
master, and that you shall find. But what I set you to do must be done both
well and thoroughly, and you must on no account go into any of the rooms
which lead out of the room in which you slept last night. If you do, I will
take your life.”
“Well to be sure, he is an easy master!” said the Prince to himself as he
walked up and down the room humming and singing, for he thought there
would be plenty of time left to clean out the stable; “but it would be
amusing to steal a glance into his other rooms as well,” thought the Prince,
“for there must be something that he is afraid of my seeing, as I am not
allowed to enter them.” So he went into the first room. A cauldron was
hanging from the walls; it was boiling, but the Prince could see no fire
under it. “I wonder what is inside it,” he thought, and dipped a lock of his
hair in, and the hair became just as if it were all made of copper. “That’s a
nice kind of soup. If anyone were to taste that his throat would be gilded,”
said the youth, and then he went into the next chamber. There, too, a
cauldron was hanging from the wall, bubbling and boiling, but there was no
fire under this either. “I will just try what this is like too,” said the Prince,
thrusting another lock of his hair into it, and it came out silvered over.
“Such costly soup is not to be had in my father’s palace,” said the Prince;
“but everything depends on how it tastes,” and then he went into the third
room. There, too, a cauldron was hanging from the wall, boiling, exactly the
same as in the two other rooms, and the Prince took pleasure in trying this
also, so he dipped a lock of hair in, and it came out so brightly gilded that it

shone again. “Some talk about going from bad to worse,” said the Prince;
“but this is better and better. If he boils gold here, what can he boil in
there?” He was determined to see, and went through the door into the fourth
room. No cauldron was to be seen there, but on a bench someone was
seated who was like a king’s daughter, but, whosoever she was, she was so
beautiful that never in the Prince’s life had he seen her equal.
“Oh! in heaven’s name what are you doing here?” said she who sat upon
the bench.
“I took the place of servant here yesterday,” said the Prince.
“May you soon have a better place, if you have come to serve here!” said
she.
“Oh, but I think I have got a kind master,” said the Prince. “He has not
given me hard work to do to-day. When I have cleaned out the stable I shall
be done.”
“Yes, but how will you be able to do that?” she asked again. “If you clean
it out as other people do, ten pitchforksful will come in for every one you
throw out. But I will teach you how to do it; you must turn your pitchfork
upside down, and work with the handle, and then all will fly out of its own
accord.”
“Yes, I will attend to that,” said the Prince, and stayed sitting where he
was the whole day, for it was soon settled between them that they would
marry each other, he and the King’s daughter; so the first day of his service
with the giant did not seem long to him. But when evening was drawing
near she said that it would now be better for him to clean out the stable
before the giant came home. When he got there he had a fancy to try if what
she had said were true, so he began to work in the same way that he had
seen the stable-boys doing in his father’s stables, but he soon saw that he
must give up that, for when he had worked a very short time he had
scarcely any room left to stand. So he did what the Princess had taught him,
turned the pitchfork round, and worked with the handle, and in the
twinkling of an eye the stable was as clean as if it had been scoured. When
he had done that, he went back again into the room in which the giant had
given him leave to stay, and there he walked backward and forward on the
floor, and began to hum and sing.
Then came the giant home with the goats. “Have you cleaned the stable?”
asked the giant.

“Yes, now it is clean and sweet, master,” said the King’s son.
“I shall see about that,” said the giant, and went round to the stable, but it
was just as the Prince had said.
“You have certainly been talking to my Master-maid, for you never got
that out of your own head,” said the giant.
“Master-maid! What kind of a thing is that, master?” said the Prince,
making himself look as stupid as an ass; “I should like to see that.”
“Well, you will see her quite soon enough,” said the giant.
On the second morning the giant had again to go out with his goats, so he
told the Prince that on that day he was to fetch home his horse, which was
out on the mountain-side, and when he had done that he might rest himself
for the remainder of the day, “for you have come to a kind master, and that
you shall find,” said the giant once more. “But do not go into any of the
rooms that I spoke of yesterday, or I will wring your head off,” said he, and
then went away with his flock of goats.
“Yes, indeed, you are a kind master,” said the Prince; “but I will go in
and talk to the Master-maid again; perhaps before long she may like better
to be mine than yours.”
So he went to her. Then she asked him what he had to do that day.
“Oh! not very dangerous work, I fancy,” said the King’s son. “I have only
to go up the mountain-side after his horse.”
“Well, how do you mean to set about it?” asked the Master-maid.
“Oh! there is no great art in riding a horse home,” said the King’s son. “I
think I must have ridden friskier horses before now.”
“Yes, but it is not so easy a thing as you think to ride the horse home,”
said the Master-maid; “but I will teach you what to do. When you go near
it, fire will burst out of its nostrils like flames from a pine torch; but be very
careful, and take the bridle which is hanging by the door there, and fling the
bit straight into his jaws, and then it will become so tame that you will be
able to do what you like with it.” He said he would bear this in mind, and
then he again sat in there the whole day by the Master-maid, and they
chatted and talked of one thing and another, but the first thing and the last
now was, how happy and delightful it would be if they could but marry
each other, and get safely away from the giant; and the Prince would have
forgotten both the mountain-side and the horse if the Master-maid had not

reminded him of them as evening drew near, and said that now it would be
better if he went to fetch the horse before the giant came. So he did this, and
took the bridle which was hanging on a crook, and strode up the mountain-
side, and it was not long before he met with the horse, and fire and red
flames streamed forth out of its nostrils. But the youth carefully watched his
opportunity, and just as it was rushing at him with open jaws he threw the
bit straight into its mouth, and the horse stood as quiet as a young lamb, and
there was no difficulty at all in getting it home to the stable. Then the Prince
went back into his room again, and began to hum and to sing.
Toward evening the giant came home. “Have you fetched the horse back
from the mountain-side?” he asked.
“That I have, master; it was an amusing horse to ride, but I rode him
straight home, and put him in the stable too,” said the Prince.
“I will see about that,” said the giant, and went out to the stable, but the
horse was standing there just as the Prince had said. “You have certainly
been talking with my Master-maid, for you never got that out of your own
head,” said the giant again.
“Yesterday, master, you talked about this Master-maid, and to-day you
are talking about her; ah, heaven bless you, master, why will you not show
me the thing? for it would be a real pleasure to me to see it,” said the
Prince, who again pretended to be silly and stupid.
“Oh! you will see her quite soon enough,” said the giant.
On the morning of the third day the giant again had to go into the wood
with the goats. “To-day you must go underground and fetch my taxes,” he
said to the Prince. “When you have done this, you may rest for the
remainder of the day, for you shall see what an easy master you have come
to,” and then he went away.
“Well, however easy a master you may be, you set me very hard work to
do,” thought the Prince; “but I will see if I cannot find your Master-maid;
you say she is yours, but for all that she may be able to tell me what to do
now,” and he went back to her. So, when the Master-maid asked him what
the giant had set him to do that day, he told her that he was to go
underground and get the taxes.
“And how will you set about that?” said the Master-maid.

“Oh! you must tell me how to do it,” said the Prince, “for I have never
yet been underground, and even if I knew the way I do not know how much
I am to demand.”
“Oh! yes, I will soon tell you that; you must go to the rock there under
the mountain-ridge, and take the club that is there, and knock on the rocky
wall,” said the Master-maid. “Then someone will come out who will
sparkle with fire; you shall tell him your errand, and when he asks you how
much you want to have you are to say: ‘As much as I can carry.’”
“Yes, I will keep that in mind,” said he, and then he sat there with the
Master-maid the whole day, until night drew near, and he would gladly have
stayed there till now if the Master-maid had not reminded him that it was
time to be off to fetch the taxes before the giant came.
So he set out on his way, and did exactly what the Master-maid had told
him. He went to the rocky wall, and took the club, and knocked on it. Then
came one so full of sparks that they flew both out of his eyes and his nose.
“What do you want?” said he.
“I was to come here for the giant, and demand the tax for him,” said the
King’s son.
“How much are you to have then?” said the other.
“I ask for no more than I am able to carry with me,” said the Prince.
“It is well for you that you have not asked for a horse-load,” said he who
had come out of the rock. “But now come in with me.”
This the Prince did, and what a quantity of gold and silver he saw! It was
lying inside the mountain like heaps of stones in a waste place, and he got a
load that was as large as he was able to carry, and with that he went his way.
So in the evening, when the giant came home with the goats, the Prince
went into the chamber and hummed and sang again as he had done on the
other two evenings.
“Have you been for the tax?” said the giant.
“Yes, that I have, master,” said the Prince.
“Where have you put it then?” said the giant again.
“The bag of gold is standing there on the bench,” said the Prince.
“I will see about that,” said the giant, and went away to the bench, but the
bag was standing there, and it was so full that gold and silver dropped out

when the giant untied the string.
“You have certainly been talking with my Master-maid!” said the giant,
“and if you have I will wring your neck.”
“Master-maid?” said the Prince; “yesterday my master talked about this
Master-maid, and to-day he is talking about her again, and the first day of
all it was talk of the same kind. I do wish I could see the thing myself,” said
he.
“Yes, yes, wait till to-morrow,” said the giant, “and then I myself will
take you to her.”
“Ah! master, I thank you—but you are only mocking me,” said the
King’s son.
Next day the giant took him to the Master-maid. “Now you shall kill him,
and boil him in the great big cauldron you know of, and when you have got
the broth ready give me a call,” said the giant; then he lay down on the
bench to sleep, and almost immediately began to snore so that it sounded
like thunder among the hills.
So the Master-maid took a knife, and cut the Prince’s little finger, and
dropped three drops of blood upon a wooden stool; then she took all the old
rags, and shoe-soles, and all the rubbish she could lay hands on, and put
them in the cauldron; and then she filled a chest with gold dust, and a lump
of salt, and a water-flask which was hanging by the door, and she also took
with her a golden apple, and two gold chickens; and then she and the Prince
went away with all the speed they could, and when they had gone a little
way they came to the sea, and then they sailed, but where they got the ship
from I have never been able to learn.
Now, when the giant had slept a good long time, he began to stretch
himself on the bench on which he was lying. “Will it soon boil?” said he.
“It is just beginning,” said the first drop of blood on the stool.
So the giant lay down to sleep again, and slept for a long, long time. Then
he began to move about a little again. “Will it soon be ready now?” said he,
but he did not look up this time any more than he had done the first time,
for he was still half asleep.
“Half done!” said the second drop of blood, and the giant believed it was
the Master-maid again, and turned himself on the bench, and lay down to

sleep once more. When he had slept again for many hours, he began to
move and stretch himself. “Is it not done yet?” said he.
“It is quite ready,” said the third drop of blood. Then the giant began to
sit up and rub his eyes, but he could not see who it was who had spoken to
him, so he asked for the Master-maid, and called her. But there was no one
to give him an answer.
“Ah! well, she has just stolen out for a little,” thought the giant, and he
took a spoon, and went off to the cauldron to have a taste; but there was
nothing in it but shoe-soles, and rags, and such trumpery as that, and all was
boiled up together, so that he could not tell whether it was porridge or milk
pottage. When he saw this, he understood what had happened, and fell into
such a rage that he hardly knew what he was doing. Away he went after the
Prince and the Master-maid so fast that the wind whistled behind him, and it
was not long before he came to the water, but he could not get over it.
“Well, well, I will soon find a cure for that; I have only to call my river-
sucker,” said the giant, and he did call him. So his river-sucker came and
lay down, and drank one, two, three draughts, and with that the water in the
sea fell so low that the giant saw the Master-maid and the Prince out on the
sea in their ship. “Now you must throw out the lump of salt,” said the
Master-maid, and the Prince did so, and it grew up into such a great high
mountain right across the sea that the giant could not come over it, and the
river-sucker could not drink any more water. “Well, well, I will soon find a
cure for that,” said the giant, so he called to his hill-borer to come and bore
through the mountain so that the river-sucker might be able to drink up the
water again. But just as the hole was made, and the river-sucker was
beginning to drink, the Master-maid told the Prince to throw one or two
drops out of the flask, and when he did this the sea instantly became full of
water again, and before the river-sucker could take one drink they reached
the land and were in safety. So they determined to go home to the Prince’s
father, but the Prince would on no account permit the Master-maid to walk
there, for he thought that it was unbecoming either for her or for him to go
on foot.
“Wait here the least little bit of time, while I go home for the seven
horses which stand in my father’s stable,” said he; “it is not far off, and I
shall not be long away, but I will not let my betrothed bride go on foot to
the palace.”

“Oh! no, do not go, for if you go home to the King’s palace you will
forget me, I foresee that.”
“How could I forget you? We have suffered so much evil together, and
love each other so much,” said the Prince; and he insisted on going home
for the coach with the seven horses, and she was to wait for him there, by
the sea-shore. So at last the Master-maid had to yield, for he was so
absolutely determined to do it. “But when you get there you must not even
give yourself time to greet anyone, but go straight into the stable, and take
the horses, and put them in the coach, and drive back as quickly as you can.
For they will all come round about you; but you must behave just as if you
did not see them, and on no account must you taste anything, for if you do it
will cause great misery both to you and to me,” said she; and this he
promised.
But when he got home to the King’s palace one of his brothers was just
going to be married, and the bride and all her kith and kin had come to the
palace; so they all thronged round him, and questioned him about this and
that, and wanted him to go in with them; but he behaved as if he did not see
them, and went straight to the stable, and got out the horses and began to
harness them. When they saw that they could not by any means prevail on
him to go in with them, they came out to him with meat and drink, and the
best of everything that they had prepared for the wedding; but the Prince
refused to touch anything, and would do nothing but put the horses in as
quickly as he could. At last, however, the bride’s sister rolled an apple
across the yard to him, and said: “As you won’t eat anything else, you may
like to take a bite of that, for you must be both hungry and thirsty after your
long journey.” And he took up the apple and bit a piece out of it. But no
sooner had he got the piece of apple in his mouth than he forgot the Master-
maid and that he was to go back in the coach to fetch her.
“I think I must be mad! what do I want with this coach and horses?” said
he; and then he put the horses back into the stable, and went into the King’s
palace, and there it was settled that he should marry the bride’s sister, who
had rolled the apple to him.
The Master-maid sat by the sea-shore for a long, long time, waiting for
the Prince, but no Prince came. So she went away, and when she had
walked a short distance she came to a little hut which stood all alone in a
small wood, hard by the King’s palace. She entered it and asked if she

might be allowed to stay there. The hut belonged to an old crone, who was
also an ill-tempered and malicious troll. At first she would not let the
Master-maid remain with her; but at last, after a long time, by means of
good words and good payment, she obtained leave. But the hut was as dirty
and black inside as a pigsty, so the Master-maid said that she would smarten
it up a little, that it might look a little more like what other people’s houses
looked inside. The old crone did not like this either. She scowled, and was
very cross, but the Master-maid did not trouble herself about that. She took
out her chest of gold, and flung a handful of it or so into the fire, and the
gold boiled up and poured out over the whole of the hut, until every part of
it both inside and out was gilded. But when the gold began to bubble up the
old hag grew so terrified that she fled as if the Evil One himself were
pursuing her, and she did not remember to stoop down as she went through
the doorway, and so she split her head and died. Next morning the sheriff
came traveling by there. He was greatly astonished when he saw the gold
hut shining and glittering there in the copse, and he was still more
astonished when he went in and caught sight of the beautiful young maiden
who was sitting there; he fell in love with her at once, and straightway on
the spot he begged her, both prettily and kindly, to marry him.
“Well, but have you a great deal of money?” said the Master-maid.
“Oh! yes; so far as that is concerned, I am not ill off,” said the sheriff. So
now he had to go home to get the money, and in the evening he came back,
bringing with him a bag with two bushels in it, which he set down on the
bench. Well, as he had such a fine lot of money, the Master-maid said she
would have him, so they sat down to talk.
But scarcely had they sat down together before the Master-maid wanted
to jump up again. “I have forgotten to see to the fire,” she said.
“Why should you jump up to do that?” said the sheriff; “I will do that!”
So he jumped up, and went to the chimney in one bound.
“Just tell me when you have got hold of the shovel,” said the Master-
maid.
“Well, I have hold of it now,” said the sheriff.
“Then you may hold the shovel, and the shovel you, and pour red-hot
coals over you, till day dawns,” said the Master-maid. So the sheriff had to
stand there the whole night and pour red-hot coals over himself, and, no
matter how much he cried and begged and entreated, the red-hot coals did

not grow the colder for that. When the day began to dawn, and he had
power to throw down the shovel, he did not stay long where he was, but ran
away as fast as he possibly could; and everyone who met him stared and
looked after him, for he was flying as if he were mad, and he could not have
looked worse if he had been both flayed and tanned, and everyone
wondered where he had been, but for very shame he would tell nothing.
The next day the attorney came riding by the place where the Master-
maid dwelt. He saw how brightly the hut shone and gleamed through the
wood, and he too went into it to see who lived there, and when he entered
and saw the beautiful young maiden he fell even more in love with her than
the sheriff had done, and began to woo her at once. So the Master-maid
asked him, as she had asked the sheriff, if he had a great deal of money, and
the attorney said he was not ill off for that, and would at once go home to
get it; and at night he came with a great big sack of money—this time it was
a four-bushel sack—and set it on the bench by the Master-maid. So she
promised to have him, and he sat down on the bench by her to arrange
about it, but suddenly she said that she had forgotten to lock the door of the
porch that night, and must do it.
“Why should you do that?” said the attorney; “sit still, I will do it.”
So he was on his feet in a moment, and out in the porch.
“Tell me when you have got hold of the door-latch,” said the Master-
maid.
“I have hold of it now,” cried the attorney.
“Then you may hold the door, and the door you, and may you go between
wall and wall till day dawns.”
What a dance the attorney had that night! He had never had such a waltz
before, and he never wished to have such a dance again. Sometimes he was
in front of the door, and sometimes the door was in front of him, and it went
from one side of the porch to the other, till the attorney was well-nigh
beaten to death. At first he began to abuse the Master-maid, and then to beg
and pray, but the door did not care for anything but keeping him where he
was till break of day.
As soon as the door let go its hold of him, off went the attorney. He
forgot who ought to be paid off for what he had suffered, he forgot both his
sack of money and his wooing, for he was so afraid lest the house-door

should come dancing after him. Everyone who met him stared and looked
after him, for he was flying like a madman, and he could not have looked
worse if a herd of rams had been butting at him all night long.
On the third day the bailiff came by, and he too saw the gold house in the
little wood, and he too felt that he must go and see who lived there; and
when he caught sight of the Master-maid he became so much in love with
her that he wooed her almost before he greeted her.
The Master-maid answered him as she had answered the other two, that if
he had a great deal of money, she would have him. “So far as that is
concerned, I am not ill off,” said the bailiff; so he was at once told to go
home and fetch it, and this he did. At night he came back, and he had a still
larger sack of money with him than the attorney had brought; it must have
been at least six bushels, and he set it down on the bench. So it was settled
that he was to have the Master-maid. But hardly had they sat down together
before she said that she had forgotten to bring in the calf, and must go out to
put it in the byre.
“No, indeed, you shall not do that,” said the bailiff; “I am the one to do
that.” And, big and fat as he was, he went out as briskly as a boy.
“Tell me when you have got hold of the calf’s tail,” said the Master-maid.
“I have hold of it now,” cried the bailiff.
“Then may you hold the calf’s tail, and the calf’s tail hold you, and may
you go round the world together till day dawns!” said the Master-maid. So
the bailiff had to bestir himself, for the calf went over rough and smooth,
over hill and dale, and, the more the bailiff cried and screamed, the faster
the calf went. When daylight began to appear, the bailiff was half dead; and
so glad was he to leave loose of the calf’s tail, that he forgot the sack of
money and all else. He walked now slowly—more slowly than the sheriff
and the attorney had done, but, the slower he went, the more time had
everyone to stare and look at him; and they used it too, and no one can
imagine how tired out and ragged he looked after his dance with the calf.
On the following day the wedding was to take place in the King’s palace,
and the elder brother was to drive to church with his bride, and the brother
who had been with the giant with her sister. But when they had seated
themselves in the coach and were about to drive off from the palace one of
the trace-pins broke, and, though they made one, two, and three to put in its
place, that did not help them, for each broke in turn, no matter what kind of

wood they used to make them of. This went on for a long time, and they
could not get away from the palace, so they were all in great trouble. Then
the sheriff said (for he too had been bidden to the wedding at Court):
“Yonder away in the thicket dwells a maiden, and if you can get her to lend
you the handle of the shovel that she uses to make up her fire I know very
well that it will hold fast.” So they sent off a messenger to the thicket, and
begged so prettily that they might have the loan of her shovel-handle of
which the sheriff had spoken that they were not refused; so now they had a
trace-pin which would not snap in two.
But all at once, just as they were starting, the bottom of the coach fell in
pieces. They made a new bottom as fast as they could, but, no matter how
they nailed it together, or what kind of wood they used, no sooner had they
got the new bottom into the coach and were about to drive off than it broke
again, so that they were still worse off than when they had broken the trace-
pin. Then the attorney said, for he too was at the wedding in the palace:
“Away there in the thicket dwells a maiden, and if you could but get her to
lend you one-half of her porch-door I am certain that it will hold together.”
So they again sent a messenger to the thicket, and begged so prettily for the
loan of the gilded porch-door of which the attorney had told them that they
got it at once. They were just setting out again, but now the horses were not
able to draw the coach. They had six horses already, and now they put in
eight, and then ten, and then twelve, but the more they put in, and the more
the coachman whipped them, the less good it did; and the coach never
stirred from the spot. It was already beginning to be late in the day, and to
church they must and would go, so everyone who was in the palace was in a
state of distress. Then the bailiff spoke up and said: “Out there in the gilded
cottage in the thicket dwells a girl, and if you could but get her to lend you
her calf I know it could draw the coach, even if it were as heavy as a
mountain.” They all thought that it was ridiculous to be drawn to church by
a calf, but there was nothing else for it but to send a messenger once more,
and beg as prettily as they could, on behalf of the King, that she would let
them have the loan of the calf that the bailiff had told them about. The
Master-maid let them have it immediately—this time also she would not
say “no.”
Then they harnessed the calf to see if the coach would move; and away it
went, over rough and smooth, over stock and stone, so that they could
scarcely breathe, and sometimes they were on the ground, and sometimes

up in the air; and when they came to the church the coach began to go
round and round like a spinning-wheel, and it was with the utmost difficulty
and danger that they were able to get out of the coach and into the church.
And when they went back again the coach went quicker still, so that most of
them did not know how they got back to the palace at all.
When they had seated themselves at the table the Prince who had been in
service with the giant said that he thought they ought to have invited the
maiden who had lent them the shovel-handle, and the porch-door, and the
calf up to the palace, “for,” said he, “if we had not got these three things, we
should never have got away from the palace.”
The King also thought that this was both just and proper, so he sent five
of his best men down to the gilded hut, to greet the maiden courteously
from the King, and to beg her to be so good as to come up to the palace to
dinner at mid-day.
“Greet the King, and tell him that, if he is too good to come to me, I am
too good to come to him,” replied the Master-maid.
So the King had to go himself, and the Master-maid went with him
immediately, and, as the King believed that she was more than she appeared
to be, he seated her in the place of honor by the youngest bridegroom.
When they had sat at the table for a short time, the Master-maid took out the
cock, and the hen, and the golden apple which she had brought away with
her from the giant’s house, and set them on the table in front of her, and
instantly the cock and the hen began to fight with each other for the golden
apple.
“Oh! look how those two there are fighting for the golden apple,” said
the King’s son.
“Yes, and so did we two fight to get out that time when we were in the
mountain,” said the Master-maid.
So the Prince knew her again, and you may imagine how delighted he
was. He ordered the troll-witch who had rolled the apple to him to be torn
in pieces between four-and-twenty horses, so that not a bit of her was left,
and then for the first time they began really to keep the wedding, and,
weary as they were, the sheriff, the attorney, and the bailiff kept it up too.(1)
(1) Asbjornsen and Moe.

WHY THE SEA IS SALT
Once upon a time, long, long ago, there were two brothers, the one rich
and the other poor. When Christmas Eve came, the poor one had not a bite
in the house, either of meat or bread; so he went to his brother, and begged
him, in God’s name, to give him something for Christmas Day. It was by no
means the first time that the brother had been forced to give something to
him, and he was not better pleased at being asked now than he generally
was.
“If you will do what I ask you, you shall have a whole ham,” said he. The
poor one immediately thanked him, and promised this.
“Well, here is the ham, and now you must go straight to Dead Man’s
Hall,” said the rich brother, throwing the ham to him.
“Well, I will do what I have promised,” said the other, and he took the
ham and set off. He went on and on for the livelong day, and at nightfall he
came to a place where there was a bright light.
“I have no doubt this is the place,” thought the man with the ham.
An old man with a long white beard was standing in the outhouse,
chopping Yule logs.
“Good-evening,” said the man with the ham.
“Good-evening to you. Where are you going at this late hour?” said the
man.
“I am going to Dead Man’s Hall, if only I am on the right track,”
answered the poor man.
“Oh! yes, you are right enough, for it is here,” said the old man. “When
you get inside they will all want to buy your ham, for they don’t get much
meat to eat there; but you must not sell it unless you can get the hand-mill
which stands behind the door for it. When you come out again I will teach
you how to stop the hand-mill, which is useful for almost everything.”
So the man with the ham thanked the other for his good advice, and
rapped at the door.

When he got in, everything happened just as the old man had said it
would: all the people, great and small, came round him like ants on an ant-
hill, and each tried to outbid the other for the ham.
“By rights my old woman and I ought to have it for our Christmas dinner,
but, since you have set your hearts upon it, I must just give it up to you,”
said the man. “But, if I sell it, I will have the hand-mill which is standing
there behind the door.”
At first they would not hear of this, and haggled and bargained with the
man, but he stuck to what he had said, and the people were forced to give
him the hand-mill. When the man came out again into the yard, he asked the
old wood-cutter how he was to stop the hand-mill, and when he had learned
that, he thanked him and set off home with all the speed he could, but did
not get there until after the clock had struck twelve on Christmas Eve.
“Where in the world have you been?” said the old woman. “Here I have
sat waiting hour after hour, and have not even two sticks to lay across each
other under the Christmas porridge-pot.”
“Oh! I could not come before; I had something of importance to see
about, and a long way to go, too; but now you shall just see!” said the man,
and then he set the hand-mill on the table, and bade it first grind light, then
a table-cloth, and then meat, and beer, and everything else that was good for
a Christmas Eve’s supper; and the mill ground all that he ordered. “Bless
me!” said the old woman as one thing after another appeared; and she
wanted to know where her husband had got the mill from, but he would not
tell her that.
“Never mind where I got it; you can see that it is a good one, and the
water that turns it will never freeze,” said the man. So he ground meat and
drink, and all kinds of good things, to last all Christmas-tide, and on the
third day he invited all his friends to come to a feast.
Now when the rich brother saw all that there was at the banquet and in
the house, he was both vexed and angry, for he grudged everything his
brother had. “On Christmas Eve he was so poor that he came to me and
begged for a trifle, for God’s sake, and now he gives a feast as if he were
both a count and a king!” thought he. “But, for heaven’s sake, tell me where
you got your riches from,” said he to his brother.
“From behind the door,” said he who owned the mill, for he did not
choose to satisfy his brother on that point; but later in the evening, when he

had taken a drop too much, he could not refrain from telling how he had
come by the hand-mill. “There you see what has brought me all my
wealth!” said he, and brought out the mill, and made it grind first one thing
and then another. When the brother saw that, he insisted on having the mill,
and after a great deal of persuasion got it; but he had to give three hundred
dollars for it, and the poor brother was to keep it till the haymaking was
over, for he thought: “If I keep it as long as that, I can make it grind meat
and drink that will last many a long year.” During that time you may
imagine that the mill did not grow rusty, and when hay-harvest came the
rich brother got it, but the other had taken good care not to teach him how
to stop it. It was evening when the rich man got the mill home, and in the
morning he bade the old woman go out and spread the hay after the
mowers, and he would attend to the house himself that day, he said.
So, when dinner-time drew near, he set the mill on the kitchen-table, and
said: “Grind herrings and milk pottage, and do it both quickly and well.”
So the mill began to grind herrings and milk pottage, and first all the
dishes and tubs were filled, and then it came out all over the kitchen-floor.
The man twisted and turned it, and did all he could to make the mill stop,
but, howsoever he turned it and screwed it, the mill went on grinding, and
in a short time the pottage rose so high that the man was like to be drowned.
So he threw open the parlor door, but it was not long before the mill had
ground the parlor full too, and it was with difficulty and danger that the man
could go through the stream of pottage and get hold of the door-latch. When
he got the door open, he did not stay long in the room, but ran out, and the
herrings and pottage came after him, and it streamed out over both farm and
field. Now the old woman, who was out spreading the hay, began to think
dinner was long in coming, and said to the women and the mowers:
“Though the master does not call us home, we may as well go. It may be
that he finds he is not good at making pottage and I should do well to help
him.” So they began to straggle homeward, but when they had got a little
way up the hill they met the herrings and pottage and bread, all pouring
forth and winding about one over the other, and the man himself in front of
the flood. “Would to heaven that each of you had a hundred stomachs! Take
care that you are not drowned in the pottage!” he cried as he went by them
as if Mischief were at his heels, down to where his brother dwelt. Then he
begged him, for God’s sake, to take the mill back again, and that in an
instant, for, said he: “If it grind one hour more the whole district will be

destroyed by herrings and pottage.” But the brother would not take it until
the other paid him three hundred dollars, and that he was obliged to do.
Now the poor brother had both the money and the mill again. So it was not
long before he had a farmhouse much finer than that in which his brother
lived, but the mill ground him so much money that he covered it with plates
of gold; and the farmhouse lay close by the sea-shore, so it shone and
glittered far out to sea. Everyone who sailed by there now had to be put in
to visit the rich man in the gold farmhouse, and everyone wanted to see the
wonderful mill, for the report of it spread far and wide, and there was no
one who had not heard tell of it.
After a long, long time came also a skipper who wished to see the mill.
He asked if it could make salt. “Yes, it could make salt,” said he who owned
it, and when the skipper heard that, he wished with all his might and main
to have the mill, let it cost what it might, for, he thought, if he had it, he
would get off having to sail far away over the perilous sea for freights of
salt. At first the man would not hear of parting with it, but the skipper
begged and prayed, and at last the man sold it to him, and got many, many
thousand dollars for it. When the skipper had got the mill on his back he did
not stay there long, for he was so afraid that the man would change his
mind, and he had no time to ask how he was to stop it grinding, but got on
board his ship as fast as he could.
When he had gone a little way out to sea he took the mill on deck. “Grind
salt, and grind both quickly and well,” said the skipper. So the mill began to
grind salt, till it spouted out like water, and when the skipper had got the
ship filled he wanted to stop the mill, but whichsoever way he turned it, and
how much soever he tried, it went on grinding, and the heap of salt grew
higher and higher, until at last the ship sank. There lies the mill at the
bottom of the sea, and still, day by day, it grinds on; and that is why the sea
is salt.(1)
(1) Asbjornsen and Moe.

THE MASTER CAT; OR, PUSS IN BOOTS
There 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 scrivener
nor attorney was 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 of 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 nothing else to
do but to give me a bag and get a pair of boots made for me that I may
scamper through the dirt and the brambles, and you shall see that you have
not so bad a portion in me as you imagine.”
The Cat’s master did not build very much upon what he said. He had
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 forepaws and went into a warren where was great
abundance of rabbits. He put bran and sow-thistle into his bag, and
stretching out at length, as if he had been dead, he waited for some young
rabbits, 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

shown upstairs 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 for 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 he 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 show
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:
“Help! help! My Lord Marquis of Carabas is going to be drowned.”
At this noise the King put his head out of the 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, though 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 caressed him after a very extraordinary manner, 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 the 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 herbs for the pot.”
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 altogether, for the
Cat’s threats had made them terribly afraid.
“You see, sir,” said the Marquis, “this is a meadow which never fails to
yield a plentiful harvest every year.”
The Master Cat, who went still 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 herbs for the pot.”
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 was
very well pleased with it, as well as the Marquis, whom he congratulated
thereupon. 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
honor 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.”
“That is true,” answered the ogre very briskly; “and to convince you, you
shall see me now become a lion.”
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 of no use at all to him in 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 he changed himself 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 draw-bridge, 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 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 had fallen violently in love with him,
and, seeing the vast estate he possessed, said to him, after having drunk 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 honor 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.(1)
(1) Charles Perrault.

FELICIA AND THE POT OF PINKS
Once upon a time there was a poor laborer who, feeling that he had not
much longer to live, wished to divide his possessions between his son and
daughter, whom he loved dearly.
So he called them to him, and said: “Your mother brought me as her
dowry two stools and a straw bed; I have, besides, a hen, a pot of pinks, and
a silver ring, which were given me by a noble lady who once lodged in my
poor cottage. When she went away she said to me:
“‘Be careful of my gifts, good man; see that you do not lose the ring or
forget to water the pinks. As for your daughter, I promise you that she shall
be more beautiful than anyone you ever saw in your life; call her Felicia,
and when she grows up give her the ring and the pot of pinks to console her
for her poverty.’ Take them both, then, my dear child,” he added, “and your
brother shall have everything else.”
The two children seemed quite contented, and when their father died they
wept for him, and divided his possessions as he had told them. Felicia
believed that her brother loved her, but when she sat down upon one of the
stools he said angrily:
“Keep your pot of pinks and your ring, but let my things alone. I like
order in my house.”
Felicia, who was very gentle, said nothing, but stood up crying quietly;
while Bruno, for that was her brother’s name, sat comfortably by the fire.
Presently, when supper-time came, Bruno had a delicious egg, and he threw
the shell to Felicia, saying:
“There, that is all I can give you; if you don’t like it, go out and catch
frogs; there are plenty of them in the marsh close by.” Felicia did not
answer, but she cried more bitterly than ever, and went away to her own
little room. She found it filled with the sweet scent of the pinks, and, going
up to them, she said sadly:
“Beautiful pinks, you are so sweet and so pretty, you are the only comfort
I have left. Be very sure that I will take care of you, and water you well, and
never allow any cruel hand to tear you from your stems.”

As she leaned over them she noticed that they were very dry. So taking
her pitcher, she ran off in the clear moonlight to the fountain, which was at
some distance. When she reached it she sat down upon the brink to rest, but
she had hardly done so when she saw a stately lady coming toward her,
surrounded by numbers of attendants. Six maids of honor carried her train,
and she leaned upon the arm of another.
When they came near the fountain a canopy was spread for her, under
which was placed a sofa of cloth-of-gold, and presently a dainty supper was
served, upon a table covered with dishes of gold and crystal, while the wind
in the trees and the falling water of the fountain murmured the softest
music.
Felicia was hidden in the shade, too much astonished by all she saw to
venture to move; but in a few moments the Queen said:
“I fancy I see a shepherdess near that tree; bid her come hither.”
So Felicia came forward and saluted the Queen timidly, but with so much
grace that all were surprised.
“What are you doing here, my pretty child?” asked the Queen. “Are you
not afraid of robbers?”
“Ah! madam,” said Felicia, “a poor shepherdess who has nothing to lose
does not fear robbers.”
“You are not very rich, then?” said the Queen, smiling.
“I am so poor,” answered Felicia, “that a pot of pinks and a silver ring are
my only possessions in the world.”
“But you have a heart,” said the Queen. “What should you say if anybody
wanted to steal that?”
“I do not know what it is like to lose one’s heart, madam,” she replied;
“but I have always heard that without a heart one cannot live, and if it is
broken one must die; and in spite of my poverty I should be sorry not to
live.”
“You are quite right to take care of your heart, pretty one,” said the
Queen. “But tell me, have you supped?”
“No, madam,” answered Felicia; “my brother ate all the supper there
was.”

Then the Queen ordered that a place should be made for her at the table,
and herself loaded Felicia’s plate with good things; but she was too much
astonished to be hungry.
“I want to know what you were doing at the fountain so late?” said the
Queen presently.
“I came to fetch a pitcher of water for my pinks, madam,” she answered,
stooping to pick up the pitcher which stood beside her; but when she
showed it to the Queen she was amazed to see that it had turned to gold, all
sparkling with great diamonds, and the water, of which it was full, was
more fragrant than the sweetest roses. She was afraid to take it until the
Queen said:
“It is yours, Felicia; go and water your pinks with it, and let it remind you
that the Queen of the Woods is your friend.”
The shepherdess threw herself at the Queen’s feet, and thanked her
humbly for her gracious words.
“Ah! madam,” she cried, “if I might beg you to stay here a moment I
would run and fetch my pot of pinks for you—they could not fall into better
hands.”
“Go, Felicia,” said the Queen, stroking her cheek softly; “I will wait here
until you come back.”
So Felicia took up her pitcher and ran to her little room, but while she
had been away Bruno had gone in and taken the pot of pinks, leaving a
great cabbage in its place. When she saw the unlucky cabbage Felicia was
much distressed, and did not know what to do; but at last she ran back to the
fountain, and, kneeling before the Queen, said:
“Madam, Bruno has stolen my pot of pinks, so I have nothing but my
silver ring; but I beg you to accept it as a proof of my gratitude.”
“But if I take your ring, my pretty shepherdess,” said the Queen, “you
will have nothing left; and what will you do then?”
“Ah! madam,” she answered simply, “if I have your friendship I shall do
very well.”
So the Queen took the ring and put it on her finger, and mounted her
chariot, which was made of coral studded with emeralds, and drawn by six
milk-white horses. And Felicia looked after her until the winding of the

forest path hid her from her sight, and then she went back to the cottage,
thinking over all the wonderful things that had happened.
The first thing she did when she reached her room was to throw the
cabbage out of the window.
But she was very much surprised to hear an odd little voice cry out: “Oh!
I am half killed!” and could not tell where it came from, because cabbages
do not generally speak.
As soon as it was light, Felicia, who was very unhappy about her pot of
pinks, went out to look for it, and the first thing she found was the
unfortunate cabbage. She gave it a push with her foot, saying: “What are
you doing here, and how dared you put yourself in the place of my pot of
pinks?”
“If I hadn’t been carried,” replied the cabbage, “you may be very sure
that I shouldn’t have thought of going there.”
It made her shiver with fright to hear the cabbage talk, but he went on:
“If you will be good enough to plant me by my comrades again, I can tell
you where your pinks are at this moment—hidden in Bruno’s bed!”
Felicia was in despair when she heard this, not knowing how she was to
get them back. But she replanted the cabbage very kindly in his old place,
and, as she finished doing it, she saw Bruno’s hen, and said, catching hold
of it:
“Come here, horrid little creature! you shall suffer for all the unkind
things my brother has done to me.”
“Ah! shepherdess,” said the hen, “don’t kill me; I am rather a gossip, and
I can tell you some surprising things that you will like to hear. Don’t
imagine that you are the daughter of the poor laborer who brought you up;
your mother was a queen who had six girls already, and the King threatened
that unless she had a son who could inherit his kingdom she should have
her head cut off.
“So when the Queen had another little daughter she was quite frightened,
and agreed with her sister (who was a fairy) to exchange her for the fairy’s
little son. Now the Queen had been shut up in a great tower by the King’s
orders, and when a great many days went by and still she heard nothing
from the Fairy she made her escape from the window by means of a rope
ladder, taking her little baby with her. After wandering about until she was

half dead with cold and fatigue she reached this cottage. I was the laborer’s
wife, and was a good nurse, and the Queen gave you into my charge, and
told me all her misfortunes, and then died before she had time to say what
was to become of you.
“As I never in all my life could keep a secret, I could not help telling this
strange tale to my neighbors, and one day a beautiful lady came here, and I
told it to her also. When I had finished she touched me with a wand she
held in her hand, and instantly I became a hen, and there was an end of my
talking! I was very sad, and my husband, who was out when it happened,
never knew what had become of me. After seeking me everywhere he
believed that I must have been drowned, or eaten up by wild beasts in the
forest. That same lady came here once more, and commanded that you
should be called Felicia, and left the ring and the pot of pinks to be given to
you; and while she was in the house twenty-five of the King’s guards came
to search for you, doubtless meaning to kill you; but she muttered a few
words, and immediately they all turned into cabbages. It was one of them
whom you threw out of your window yesterday.
“I don’t know how it was that he could speak—I have never heard either
of them say a word before, nor have I been able to do it myself until now.”
The Princess was greatly astonished at the hen’s story, and said kindly: “I
am truly sorry for you, my poor nurse, and wish it was in my power to
restore you to your real form. But we must not despair; it seems to me, after
what you have told me, that something must be going to happen soon. Just
now, however, I must go and look for my pinks, which I love better than
anything in the world.”
Bruno had gone out into the forest, never thinking that Felicia would
search in his room for the pinks, and she was delighted by his unexpected
absence, and thought to get them back without further trouble. But as soon
as she entered the room she saw a terrible army of rats, who were guarding
the straw bed; and when she attempted to approach it they sprang at her,
biting and scratching furiously. Quite terrified, she drew back, crying out:
“Oh! my dear pinks, how can you stay here in such bad company?”
Then she suddenly bethought herself of the pitcher of water, and, hoping
that it might have some magic power, she ran to fetch it, and sprinkled a
few drops over the fierce-looking swarm of rats. In a moment not a tail or a
whisker was to be seen. Each one had made for his hole as fast as his legs

could carry him, so that the Princess could safely take her pot of pinks. She
found them nearly dying for want of water, and hastily poured all that was
left in the pitcher upon them. As she bent over them, enjoying their
delicious scent, a soft voice, that seemed to rustle among the leaves, said:
“Lovely Felicia, the day has come at last when I may have the happiness
of telling you how even the flowers love you and rejoice in your beauty.”
The Princess, quite overcome by the strangeness of hearing a cabbage, a
hen, and a pink speak, and by the terrible sight of an army of rats, suddenly
became very pale, and fainted away.
At this moment in came Bruno. Working hard in the heat had not
improved his temper, and when he saw that Felicia had succeeded in finding
her pinks he was so angry that he dragged her out into the garden and shut
the door upon her. The fresh air soon made her open her pretty eyes, and
there before her stood the Queen of the Woods, looking as charming as ever.
“You have a bad brother,” she said; “I saw he turned you out. Shall I
punish him for it?”
“Ah! no, madam,” she said; “I am not angry with him.
“But supposing he was not your brother, after all, what would you say
then?” asked the Queen.
“Oh! but I think he must be,” said Felicia.
“What!” said the Queen, “have you not heard that you are a Princess?”
“I was told so a little while ago, madam, but how could I believe it
without a single proof?”
“Ah! dear child,” said the Queen, “the way you speak assures me that, in
spite of your humble upbringing, you are indeed a real princess, and I can
save you from being treated in such a way again.”
She was interrupted at this moment by the arrival of a very handsome
young man. He wore a coat of green velvet fastened with emerald clasps,
and had a crown of pinks on his head. He knelt upon one knee and kissed
the Queen’s hand.
“Ah!” she cried, “my pink, my dear son, what a happiness to see you
restored to your natural shape by Felicia’s aid!” And she embraced him
joyfully. Then, turning to Felicia, she said:

“Charming Princess, I know all the hen told you, but you cannot have
heard that the zephyrs, to whom was entrusted the task of carrying my son
to the tower where the Queen, your mother, so anxiously waited for him,
left him instead in a garden of flowers, while they flew off to tell your
mother. Whereupon a fairy with whom I had quarrelled changed him into a
pink, and I could do nothing to prevent it.
“You can imagine how angry I was, and how I tried to find some means
of undoing the mischief she had done; but there was no help for it. I could
only bring Prince Pink to the place where you were being brought up,
hoping that when you grew up he might love you, and by your care be
restored to his natural form. And you see everything has come right, as I
hoped it would. Your giving me the silver ring was the sign that the power
of the charm was nearly over, and my enemy’s last chance was to frighten
you with her army of rats. That she did not succeed in doing; so now, my
dear Felicia, if you will be married to my son with this silver ring your
future happiness is certain. Do you think him handsome and amiable
enough to be willing to marry him?”
“Madam,” replied Felicia, blushing, “you overwhelm me with your
kindness. I know that you are my mother’s sister, and that by your art you
turned the soldiers who were sent to kill me into cabbages, and my nurse
into a hen, and that you do me only too much honor in proposing that I shall
marry your son. How can I explain to you the cause of my hesitation? I feel,
for the first time in my life, how happy it would make me to be beloved.
Can you indeed give me the Prince’s heart?”
“It is yours already, lovely Princess!” he cried, taking her hand in his;
“but for the horrible enchantment which kept me silent I should have told
you long ago how dearly I love you.”
This made the Princess very happy, and the Queen, who could not bear to
see her dressed like a poor shepherdess, touched her with her wand, saying:
“I wish you to be attired as befits your rank and beauty.” And
immediately the Princess’s cotton dress became a magnificent robe of silver
brocade embroidered with carbuncles, and her soft dark hair was encircled
by a crown of diamonds, from which floated a clear white veil. With her
bright eyes, and the charming color in her cheeks, she was altogether such a
dazzling sight that the Prince could hardly bear it.

“How pretty you are, Felicia!” he cried. “Don’t keep me in suspense, I
entreat you; say that you will marry me.”
“Ah!” said the Queen, smiling, “I think she will not refuse now.”
Just then Bruno, who was going back to his work, came out of the
cottage, and thought he must be dreaming when he saw Felicia; but she
called him very kindly, and begged the Queen to take pity on him.
“What!” she said, “when he was so unkind to you?”
“Ah! madam,” said the Princess, “I am so happy that I should like
everybody else to be happy too.”
The Queen kissed her, and said: “Well, to please you, let me see what I
can do for this cross Bruno.” And with a wave of her wand she turned the
poor little cottage into a splendid palace, full of treasures; only the two
stools and the straw bed remained just as they were, to remind him of his
former poverty. Then the Queen touched Bruno himself, and made him
gentle and polite and grateful, and he thanked her and the Princess a
thousand times. Lastly, the Queen restored the hen and the cabbages to their
natural forms, and left them all very contented. The Prince and Princess
were married as soon as possible with great splendor, and lived happily ever
after.(1)
(1) Fortunee. Par Madame la Comtesse d’Aulnoy.

THE WHITE CAT
Once upon a time there was a king who had three sons, who were all so
clever and brave that he began to be afraid that they would want to reign
over the kingdom before he was dead. Now the King, though he felt that he
was growing old, did not at all wish to give up the government of his
kingdom while he could still manage it very well, so he thought the best
way to live in peace would be to divert the minds of his sons by promises
which he could always get out of when the time came for keeping them.
So he sent for them all, and, after speaking to them kindly, he added:
“You will quite agree with me, my dear children, that my great age makes
it impossible for me to look after my affairs of state as carefully as I once
did. I begin to fear that this may affect the welfare of my subjects, therefore
I wish that one of you should succeed to my crown; but in return for such a
gift as this it is only right that you should do something for me. Now, as I
think of retiring into the country, it seems to me that a pretty, lively, faithful
little dog would be very good company for me; so, without any regard for
your ages, I promise that the one who brings me the most beautiful little
dog shall succeed me at once.”
The three Princes were greatly surprised by their father’s sudden fancy
for a little dog, but as it gave the two younger ones a chance they would not
otherwise have had of being king, and as the eldest was too polite to make
any objection, they accepted the commission with pleasure. They bade
farewell to the King, who gave them presents of silver and precious stones,
and appointed to meet them at the same hour, in the same place, after a year
had passed, to see the little dogs they had brought for him.
Then they went together to a castle which was about a league from the
city, accompanied by all their particular friends, to whom they gave a grand
banquet, and the three brothers promised to be friends always, to share
whatever good fortune befell them, and not to be parted by any envy or
jealousy; and so they set out, agreeing to meet at the same castle at the
appointed time, to present themselves before the King together. Each one
took a different road, and the two eldest met with many adventures; but it is

about the youngest that you are going to hear. He was young, and gay, and
handsome, and knew everything that a prince ought to know; and as for his
courage, there was simply no end to it.
Hardly a day passed without his buying several dogs—big and little,
greyhounds, mastiffs, spaniels, and lapdogs. As soon as he had bought a
pretty one he was sure to see a still prettier, and then he had to get rid of all
the others and buy that one, as, being alone, he found it impossible to take
thirty or forty thousand dogs about with him. He journeyed from day to day,
not knowing where he was going, until at last, just at nightfall, he reached a
great, gloomy forest. He did not know his way, and, to make matters worse,
it began to thunder, and the rain poured down. He took the first path he
could find, and after walking for a long time he fancied he saw a faint light,
and began to hope that he was coming to some cottage where he might find
shelter for the night. At length, guided by the light, he reached the door of
the most splendid castle he could have imagined. This door was of gold
covered with carbuncles, and it was the pure red light which shone from
them that had shown him the way through the forest. The walls were of the
finest porcelain in all the most delicate colors, and the Prince saw that all
the stories he had ever read were pictured upon them; but as he was terribly
wet, and the rain still fell in torrents, he could not stay to look about any
more, but came back to the golden door. There he saw a deer’s foot hanging
by a chain of diamonds, and he began to wonder who could live in this
magnificent castle.
“They must feel very secure against robbers,” he said to himself. “What
is to hinder anyone from cutting off that chain and digging out those
carbuncles, and making himself rich for life?”
He pulled the deer’s foot, and immediately a silver bell sounded and the
door flew open, but the Prince could see nothing but numbers of hands in
the air, each holding a torch. He was so much surprised that he stood quite
still, until he felt himself pushed forward by other hands, so that, though he
was somewhat uneasy, he could not help going on. With his hand on his
sword, to be prepared for whatever might happen, he entered a hall paved
with lapis-lazuli, while two lovely voices sang:
“The hands you see floating above
Will swiftly your bidding obey;
If your heart dreads not conquering Love,
In this place you may fearlessly stay.”

The Prince could not believe that any danger threatened him when he
was welcomed in this way, so, guided by the mysterious hands, he went
toward a door of coral, which opened of its own accord, and he found
himself in a vast hall of mother-of-pearl, out of which opened a number of
other rooms, glittering with thousands of lights, and full of such beautiful
pictures and precious things that the Prince felt quite bewildered. After
passing through sixty rooms the hands that conducted him stopped, and the
Prince saw a most comfortable-looking arm-chair drawn up close to the
chimney-corner; at the same moment the fire lighted itself, and the pretty,
soft, clever hands took off the Prince’s wet, muddy clothes, and presented
him with fresh ones made of the richest stuffs, all embroidered with gold
and emeralds. He could not help admiring everything he saw, and the deft
way in which the hands waited on him, though they sometimes appeared so
suddenly that they made him jump.
When he was quite ready—and I can assure you that he looked very
different from the wet and weary Prince who had stood outside in the rain,
and pulled the deer’s foot—the hands led him to a splendid room, upon the
walls of which were painted the histories of Puss in Boots and a number of
other famous cats. The table was laid for supper with two golden plates, and
golden spoons and forks, and the sideboard was covered with dishes and
glasses of crystal set with precious stones. The Prince was wondering who
the second place could be for, when suddenly in came about a dozen cats
carrying guitars and rolls of music, who took their places at one end of the
room, and under the direction of a cat who beat time with a roll of paper
began to mew in every imaginable key, and to draw their claws across the
strings of the guitars, making the strangest kind of music that could be
heard. The Prince hastily stopped up his ears, but even then the sight of
these comical musicians sent him into fits of laughter.
“What funny thing shall I see next?” he said to himself, and instantly the
door opened, and in came a tiny figure covered by a long black veil. It was
conducted by two cats wearing black mantles and carrying swords, and a
large party of cats followed, who brought in cages full of rats and mice.
The Prince was so much astonished that he thought he must be dreaming,
but the little figure came up to him and threw back its veil, and he saw that
it was the loveliest little white cat it is possible to imagine. She looked very

young and very sad, and in a sweet little voice that went straight to his heart
she said to the Prince:
“King’s son, you are welcome; the Queen of the Cats is glad to see you.”
“Lady Cat,” replied the Prince, “I thank you for receiving me so kindly,
but surely you are no ordinary pussy-cat? Indeed, the way you speak and
the magnificence of your castle prove it plainly.”
“King’s son,” said the White Cat, “I beg you to spare me these
compliments, for I am not used to them. But now,” she added, “let supper
be served, and let the musicians be silent, as the Prince does not understand
what they are saying.”
So the mysterious hands began to bring in the supper, and first they put
on the table two dishes, one containing stewed pigeons and the other a
fricassee of fat mice. The sight of the latter made the Prince feel as if he
could not enjoy his supper at all; but the White Cat, seeing this, assured him
that the dishes intended for him were prepared in a separate kitchen, and he
might be quite certain that they contained neither rats nor mice; and the
Prince felt so sure that she would not deceive him that he had no more
hesitation in beginning. Presently he noticed that on the little paw that was
next him the White Cat wore a bracelet containing a portrait, and he begged
to be allowed to look at it. To his great surprise he found it represented an
extremely handsome young man, who was so like himself that it might have
been his own portrait! The White Cat sighed as he looked at it, and seemed
sadder than ever, and the Prince dared not ask any questions for fear of
displeasing her; so he began to talk about other things, and found that she
was interested in all the subjects he cared for himself, and seemed to know
quite well what was going on in the world. After supper they went into
another room, which was fitted up as a theatre, and the cats acted and
danced for their amusement, and then the White Cat said good-night to him,
and the hands conducted him into a room he had not seen before, hung with
tapestry worked with butterflies’ wings of every color; there were mirrors
that reached from the ceiling to the floor, and a little white bed with curtains
of gauze tied up with ribbons. The Prince went to bed in silence, as he did
not quite know how to begin a conversation with the hands that waited on
him, and in the morning he was awakened by a noise and confusion outside
of his window, and the hands came and quickly dressed him in hunting
costume. When he looked out all the cats were assembled in the courtyard,

some leading greyhounds, some blowing horns, for the White Cat was
going out hunting. The hands led a wooden horse up to the Prince, and
seemed to expect him to mount it, at which he was very indignant; but it
was no use for him to object, for he speedily found himself upon its back,
and it pranced gaily off with him.
The White Cat herself was riding a monkey, which climbed even up to
the eagles’ nests when she had a fancy for the young eaglets. Never was
there a pleasanter hunting party, and when they returned to the castle the
Prince and the White Cat supped together as before, but when they had
finished she offered him a crystal goblet, which must have contained a
magic draught, for, as soon as he had swallowed its contents, he forgot
everything, even the little dog that he was seeking for the King, and only
thought how happy he was to be with the White Cat! And so the days
passed, in every kind of amusement, until the year was nearly gone. The
Prince had forgotten all about meeting his brothers: he did not even know
what country he belonged to; but the White Cat knew when he ought to go
back, and one day she said to him:
“Do you know that you have only three days left to look for the little dog
for your father, and your brothers have found lovely ones?”
Then the Prince suddenly recovered his memory, and cried:
“What can have made me forget such an important thing? My whole
fortune depends upon it; and even if I could in such a short time find a dog
pretty enough to gain me a kingdom, where should I find a horse who
would carry me all that way in three days?” And he began to be very vexed.
But the White Cat said to him: “King’s son, do not trouble yourself; I am
your friend, and will make everything easy for you. You can still stay here
for a day, as the good wooden horse can take you to your country in twelve
hours.”
“I thank you, beautiful Cat,” said the Prince; “but what good will it do
me to get back if I have not a dog to take to my father?”
“See here,” answered the White Cat, holding up an acorn; “there is a
prettier one in this than in the Dogstar!”
“Oh! White Cat dear,” said the Prince, “how unkind you are to laugh at
me now!”
“Only listen,” she said, holding the acorn to his ear.

And inside it he distinctly heard a tiny voice say: “Bow-wow!”
The Prince was delighted, for a dog that can be shut up in an acorn must
be very small indeed. He wanted to take it out and look at it, but the White
Cat said it would be better not to open the acorn till he was before the King,
in case the tiny dog should be cold on the journey. He thanked her a
thousand times, and said good-by quite sadly when the time came for him
to set out.
“The days have passed so quickly with you,” he said, “I only wish I
could take you with me now.”
But the White Cat shook her head and sighed deeply in answer.
After all the Prince was the first to arrive at the castle where he had
agreed to meet his brothers, but they came soon after, and stared in
amazement when they saw the wooden horse in the courtyard jumping like
a hunter.
The Prince met them joyfully, and they began to tell him all their
adventures; but he managed to hide from them what he had been doing, and
even led them to think that a turnspit dog which he had with him was the
one he was bringing for the King. Fond as they all were of one another, the
two eldest could not help being glad to think that their dogs certainly had a
better chance. The next morning they started in the same chariot. The elder
brothers carried in baskets two such tiny, fragile dogs that they hardly dared
to touch them. As for the turnspit, he ran after the chariot, and got so
covered with mud that one could hardly see what he was like at all. When
they reached the palace everyone crowded round to welcome them as they
went into the King’s great hall; and when the two brothers presented their
little dogs nobody could decide which was the prettier. They were already
arranging between themselves to share the kingdom equally, when the
youngest stepped forward, drawing from his pocket the acorn the White Cat
had given him. He opened it quickly, and there upon a white cushion they
saw a dog so small that it could easily have been put through a ring. The
Prince laid it upon the ground, and it got up at once and began to dance. The
King did not know what to say, for it was impossible that anything could be
prettier than this little creature. Nevertheless, as he was in no hurry to part
with his crown, he told his sons that, as they had been so successful the first
time, he would ask them to go once again, and seek by land and sea for a
piece of muslin so fine that it could be drawn through the eye of a needle.

The brothers were not very willing to set out again, but the two eldest
consented because it gave them another chance, and they started as before.
The youngest again mounted the wooden horse, and rode back at full speed
to his beloved White Cat. Every door of the castle stood wide open, and
every window and turret was illuminated, so it looked more wonderful than
before. The hands hastened to meet him, and led the wooden horse off to
the stable, while he hurried in to find the White Cat. She was asleep in a
little basket on a white satin cushion, but she very soon started up when she
heard the Prince, and was overjoyed at seeing him once more.
“How could I hope that you would come back to me King’s son?” she
said. And then he stroked and petted her, and told her of his successful
journey, and how he had come back to ask her help, as he believed that it
was impossible to find what the King demanded. The White Cat looked
serious, and said she must think what was to be done, but that, luckily, there
were some cats in the castle who could spin very well, and if anybody could
manage it they could, and she would set them the task herself.
And then the hands appeared carrying torches, and conducted the Prince
and the White Cat to a long gallery which overlooked the river, from the
windows of which they saw a magnificent display of fireworks of all sorts;
after which they had supper, which the Prince liked even better than the
fireworks, for it was very late, and he was hungry after his long ride. And so
the days passed quickly as before; it was impossible to feel dull with the
White Cat, and she had quite a talent for inventing new amusements—
indeed, she was cleverer than a cat has any right to be. But when the Prince
asked her how it was that she was so wise, she only said:
“King’s son, do not ask me; guess what you please. I may not tell you
anything.”
The Prince was so happy that he did not trouble himself at all about the
time, but presently the White Cat told him that the year was gone, and that
he need not be at all anxious about the piece of muslin, as they had made it
very well.
“This time,” she added, “I can give you a suitable escort”; and on looking
out into the courtyard the Prince saw a superb chariot of burnished gold,
enameled in flame color with a thousand different devices. It was drawn by
twelve snow-white horses, harnessed four abreast; their trappings were
flame-colored velvet, embroidered with diamonds. A hundred chariots

followed, each drawn by eight horses, and filled with officers in splendid
uniforms, and a thousand guards surrounded the procession. “Go!” said the
White Cat, “and when you appear before the King in such state he surely
will not refuse you the crown which you deserve. Take this walnut, but do
not open it until you are before him, then you will find in it the piece of
stuff you asked me for.”
“Lovely Blanchette,” said the Prince, “how can I thank you properly for
all your kindness to me? Only tell me that you wish it, and I will give up for
ever all thought of being king, and will stay here with you always.”
“King’s son,” she replied, “it shows the goodness of your heart that you
should care so much for a little white cat, who is good for nothing but to
catch mice; but you must not stay.”
So the Prince kissed her little paw and set out. You can imagine how fast
he traveled when I tell you that they reached the King’s palace in just half
the time it had taken the wooden horse to get there. This time the Prince
was so late that he did not try to meet his brothers at their castle, so they
thought he could not be coming, and were rather glad of it, and displayed
their pieces of muslin to the King proudly, feeling sure of success. And
indeed the stuff was very fine, and would go through the eye of a very large
needle; but the King, who was only too glad to make a difficulty, sent for a
particular needle, which was kept among the Crown jewels, and had such a
small eye that everybody saw at once that it was impossible that the muslin
should pass through it. The Princes were angry, and were beginning to
complain that it was a trick, when suddenly the trumpets sounded and the
youngest Prince came in. His father and brothers were quite astonished at
his magnificence, and after he had greeted them he took the walnut from his
pocket and opened it, fully expecting to find the piece of muslin, but instead
there was only a hazel-nut. He cracked it, and there lay a cherry-stone.
Everybody was looking on, and the King was chuckling to himself at the
idea of finding the piece of muslin in a nutshell.
However, the Prince cracked the cherry-stone, but everyone laughed
when he saw it contained only its own kernel. He opened that and found a
grain of wheat, and in that was a millet seed. Then he himself began to
wonder, and muttered softly:
“White Cat, White Cat, are you making fun of me?”

In an instant he felt a cat’s claw give his hand quite a sharp scratch, and
hoping that it was meant as an encouragement he opened the millet seed,
and drew out of it a piece of muslin four hundred ells long, woven with the
loveliest colors and most wonderful patterns; and when the needle was
brought it went through the eye six times with the greatest ease! The King
turned pale, and the other Princes stood silent and sorrowful, for nobody
could deny that this was the most marvelous piece of muslin that was to be
found in the world.
Presently the King turned to his sons, and said, with a deep sigh:
“Nothing could console me more in my old age than to realize your
willingness to gratify my wishes. Go then once more, and whoever at the
end of a year can bring back the loveliest princess shall be married to her,
and shall, without further delay, receive the crown, for my successor must
certainly be married.” The Prince considered that he had earned the
kingdom fairly twice over but still he was too well bred to argue about it, so
he just went back to his gorgeous chariot, and, surrounded by his escort,
returned to the White Cat faster than he had come. This time she was
expecting him, the path was strewn with flowers, and a thousand braziers
were burning scented woods which perfumed the air. Seated in a gallery
from which she could see his arrival, the White Cat waited for him. “Well,
King’s son,” she said, “here you are once more, without a crown.”
“Madam,” said he, “thanks to your generosity I have earned one twice over;
but the fact is that my father is so loth to part with it that it would be no
pleasure to me to take it.”
“Never mind,” she answered, “it’s just as well to try and deserve it. As
you must take back a lovely princess with you next time I will be on the
look-out for one for you. In the meantime let us enjoy ourselves; to-night I
have ordered a battle between my cats and the river rats on purpose to
amuse you.” So this year slipped away even more pleasantly than the
preceding ones. Sometimes the Prince could not help asking the White Cat
how it was she could talk.
“Perhaps you are a fairy,” he said. “Or has some enchanter changed you
into a cat?”
But she only gave him answers that told him nothing. Days go by so
quickly when one is very happy that it is certain the Prince would never
have thought of its being time to go back, when one evening as they sat

together the White Cat said to him that if he wanted to take a lovely
princess home with him the next day he must be prepared to do what she
told him.
“Take this sword,” she said, “and cut off my head!”
“I!” cried the Prince, “I cut off your head! Blanchette darling, how could
I do it?”
“I entreat you to do as I tell you, King’s son,” she replied.
The tears came into the Prince’s eyes as he begged her to ask him
anything but that—to set him any task she pleased as a proof of his
devotion, but to spare him the grief of killing his dear Pussy. But nothing he
could say altered her determination, and at last he drew his sword, and
desperately, with a trembling hand, cut off the little white head. But imagine
his astonishment and delight when suddenly a lovely princess stood before
him, and, while he was still speechless with amazement, the door opened
and a goodly company of knights and ladies entered, each carrying a cat’s
skin! They hastened with every sign of joy to the Princess, kissing her hand
and congratulating her on being once more restored to her natural shape.
She received them graciously, but after a few minutes begged that they
would leave her alone with the Prince, to whom she said:
“You see, Prince, that you were right in supposing me to be no ordinary
cat. My father reigned over six kingdoms. The Queen, my mother, whom he
loved dearly, had a passion for traveling and exploring, and when I was
only a few weeks old she obtained his permission to visit a certain mountain
of which she had heard many marvelous tales, and set out, taking with her a
number of her attendants. On the way they had to pass near an old castle
belonging to the fairies. Nobody had ever been into it, but it was reported to
be full of the most wonderful things, and my mother remembered to have
heard that the fairies had in their garden such fruits as were to be seen and
tasted nowhere else. She began to wish to try them for herself, and turned
her steps in the direction of the garden. On arriving at the door, which
blazed with gold and jewels, she ordered her servants to knock loudly, but it
was useless; it seemed as if all the inhabitants of the castle must be asleep
or dead. Now the more difficult it became to obtain the fruit, the more the
Queen was determined that have it she would. So she ordered that they
should bring ladders, and get over the wall into the garden; but though the

wall did not look very high, and they tied the ladders together to make them
very long, it was quite impossible to get to the top.
“The Queen was in despair, but as night was coming on she ordered that
they should encamp just where they were, and went to bed herself, feeling
quite ill, she was so disappointed. In the middle of the night she was
suddenly awakened, and saw to her surprise a tiny, ugly old woman seated
by her bedside, who said to her:
“‘I must say that we consider it somewhat troublesome of your Majesty
to insist upon tasting our fruit; but to save you annoyance, my sisters and I
will consent to give you as much as you can carry away, on one condition—
that is, that you shall give us your little daughter to bring up as our own.’
“‘Ah! my dear madam,’ cried the Queen, ‘is there nothing else that you
will take for the fruit? I will give you my kingdoms willingly.’
“‘No,’ replied the old fairy, ‘we will have nothing but your little daughter.
She shall be as happy as the day is long, and we will give her everything
that is worth having in fairy-land, but you must not see her again until she is
married.’
“‘Though it is a hard condition,’ said the Queen, ‘I consent, for I shall
certainly die if I do not taste the fruit, and so I should lose my little daughter
either way.’
“So the old fairy led her into the castle, and, though it was still the middle
of the night, the Queen could see plainly that it was far more beautiful than
she had been told, which you can easily believe, Prince,” said the White
Cat, “when I tell you that it was this castle that we are now in. ‘Will you
gather the fruit yourself, Queen?’ said the old fairy, ‘or shall I call it to
come to you?’
“‘I beg you to let me see it come when it is called,’ cried the Queen; ‘that
will be something quite new.’ The old fairy whistled twice, then she cried:
“‘Apricots, peaches, nectarines, cherries, plums, pears, melons, grapes,
apples, oranges, lemons, gooseberries, strawberries, raspberries, come!’
“And in an instant they came tumbling in one over another, and yet they
were neither dusty nor spoilt, and the Queen found them quite as good as
she had fancied them. You see they grew upon fairy trees.
“The old fairy gave her golden baskets in which to take the fruit away,
and it was as much as four hundred mules could carry. Then she reminded

the Queen of her agreement, and led her back to the camp, and next
morning she went back to her kingdom, but before she had gone very far
she began to repent of her bargain, and when the King came out to meet her
she looked so sad that he guessed that something had happened, and asked
what was the matter. At first the Queen was afraid to tell him, but when, as
soon as they reached the palace, five frightful little dwarfs were sent by the
fairies to fetch me, she was obliged to confess what she had promised. The
King was very angry, and had the Queen and myself shut up in a great
tower and safely guarded, and drove the little dwarfs out of his kingdom;
but the fairies sent a great dragon who ate up all the people he met, and
whose breath burnt up everything as he passed through the country; and at
last, after trying in vain to rid himself of this monster, the King, to save his
subjects, was obliged to consent that I should be given up to the fairies. This
time they came themselves to fetch me, in a chariot of pearl drawn by sea-
horses, followed by the dragon, who was led with chains of diamonds. My
cradle was placed between the old fairies, who loaded me with caresses,
and away we whirled through the air to a tower which they had built on
purpose for me. There I grew up surrounded with everything that was
beautiful and rare, and learning everything that is ever taught to a princess,
but without any companions but a parrot and a little dog, who could both
talk; and receiving every day a visit from one of the old fairies, who came
mounted upon the dragon. One day, however, as I sat at my window I saw a
handsome young prince, who seemed to have been hunting in the forest
which surrounded my prison, and who was standing and looking up at me.
When he saw that I observed him he saluted me with great deference. You
can imagine that I was delighted to have some one new to talk to, and in
spite of the height of my window our conversation was prolonged till night
fell, then my prince reluctantly bade me farewell. But after that he came
again many times and at last I consented to marry him, but the question was
how was I to escape from my tower. The fairies always supplied me with
flax for my spinning, and by great diligence I made enough cord for a
ladder that would reach to the foot of the tower; but, alas! just as my prince
was helping me to descend it, the crossest and ugliest of the old fairies flew
in. Before he had time to defend himself my unhappy lover was swallowed
up by the dragon. As for me, the fairies, furious at having their plans
defeated, for they intended me to marry the king of the dwarfs, and I utterly
refused, changed me into a white cat. When they brought me here I found

all the lords and ladies of my father’s court awaiting me under the same
enchantment, while the people of lesser rank had been made invisible, all
but their hands.
“As they laid me under the enchantment the fairies told me all my
history, for until then I had quite believed that I was their child, and warned
me that my only chance of regaining my natural form was to win the love of
a prince who resembled in every way my unfortunate lover.
“And you have won it, lovely Princess,” interrupted the Prince.
“You are indeed wonderfully like him,” resumed the Princess—“in voice,
in features, and everything; and if you really love me all my troubles will be
at an end.”
“And mine too,” cried the Prince, throwing himself at her feet, “if you
will consent to marry me.”
“I love you already better than anyone in the world,” she said; “but now
it is time to go back to your father, and we shall hear what he says about it.”
So the Prince gave her his hand and led her out, and they mounted the
chariot together; it was even more splendid than before, and so was the
whole company. Even the horses’ shoes were of rubies with diamond nails,
and I suppose that is the first time such a thing was ever seen.
As the Princess was as kind and clever as she was beautiful, you may
imagine what a delightful journey the Prince found it, for everything the
Princess said seemed to him quite charming.
When they came near the castle where the brothers were to meet, the
Princess got into a chair carried by four of the guards; it was hewn out of
one splendid crystal, and had silken curtains, which she drew round her that
she might not be seen.
The Prince saw his brothers walking upon the terrace, each with a lovely
princess, and they came to meet him, asking if he had also found a wife. He
said that he had found something much rarer—a white cat! At which they
laughed very much, and asked him if he was afraid of being eaten up by
mice in the palace. And then they set out together for the town. Each prince
and princess rode in a splendid carriage; the horses were decked with
plumes of feathers, and glittered with gold. After them came the youngest
prince, and last of all the crystal chair, at which everybody looked with

admiration and curiosity. When the courtiers saw them coming they
hastened to tell the King.
“Are the ladies beautiful?” he asked anxiously.
And when they answered that nobody had ever before seen such lovely
princesses he seemed quite annoyed.
However, he received them graciously, but found it impossible to choose
between them.
Then turning to his youngest son he said:
“Have you come back alone, after all?”
“Your Majesty,” replied the Prince, “will find in that crystal chair a little
white cat, which has such soft paws, and mews so prettily, that I am sure
you will be charmed with it.”
The King smiled, and went to draw back the curtains himself, but at a
touch from the Princess the crystal shivered into a thousand splinters, and
there she stood in all her beauty; her fair hair floated over her shoulders and
was crowned with flowers, and her softly falling robe was of the purest
white. She saluted the King gracefully, while a murmur of admiration rose
from all around.
“Sire,” she said, “I am not come to deprive you of the throne you fill so
worthily. I have already six kingdoms, permit me to bestow one upon you,
and upon each of your sons. I ask nothing but your friendship, and your
consent to my marriage with your youngest son; we shall still have three
kingdoms left for ourselves.”
The King and all the courtiers could not conceal their joy and
astonishment, and the marriage of the three Princes was celebrated at once.
The festivities lasted several months, and then each king and queen
departed to their own kingdom and lived happily ever after.(1)
(1) La Chatte blanche. Par Madame la Comtesse d’Aulnoy.

THE WATER-LILY. THE GOLD-SPINNERS
Once upon a time, in a large forest, there lived an old woman and three
maidens. They were all three beautiful, but the youngest was the fairest.
Their hut was quite hidden by trees, and none saw their beauty but the sun
by day, and the moon by night, and the eyes of the stars. The old woman
kept the girls hard at work, from morning till night, spinning gold flax into
yarn, and when one distaff was empty another was given them, so they had
no rest. The thread had to be fine and even, and when done was locked up
in a secret chamber by the old woman, who twice or thrice every summer
went a journey. Before she went she gave out work for each day of her
absence, and always returned in the night, so that the girls never saw what
she brought back with her, neither would she tell them whence the gold flax
came, nor what it was to be used for.
Now, when the time came round for the old woman to set out on one of
these journeys, she gave each maiden work for six days, with the usual
warning: “Children, don’t let your eyes wander, and on no account speak to
a man, for, if you do, your thread will lose its brightness, and misfortunes of
all kinds will follow.” They laughed at this oft-repeated caution, saying to
each other: “How can our gold thread lose its brightness, and have we any
chance of speaking to a man?”
On the third day after the old woman’s departure a young prince, hunting
in the forest, got separated from his companions, and completely lost.
Weary of seeking his way, he flung himself down under a tree, leaving his
horse to browse at will, and fell asleep.
The sun had set when he awoke and began once more to try and find his
way out of the forest. At last he perceived a narrow foot-path, which he
eagerly followed and found that it led him to a small hut. The maidens, who
were sitting at the door of their hut for coolness, saw him approaching, and
the two elder were much alarmed, for they remembered the old woman’s
warning; but the youngest said: “Never before have I seen anyone like him;
let me have one look.” They entreated her to come in, but, seeing that she
would not, left her, and the Prince, coming up, courteously greeted the
maiden, and told her he had lost his way in the forest and was both hungry

and weary. She set food before him, and was so delighted with his
conversation that she forgot the old woman’s caution, and lingered for
hours. In the meantime the Prince’s companions sought him far and wide,
but to no purpose, so they sent two messengers to tell the sad news to the
King, who immediately ordered a regiment of cavalry and one of infantry to
go and look for him.
After three days’ search, they found the hut. The Prince was still sitting
by the door and had been so happy in the maiden’s company that the time
had seemed like a single hour. Before leaving he promised to return and
fetch her to his father’s court, where he would make her his bride. When he
had gone, she sat down to her wheel to make up for lost time, but was
dismayed to find that her thread had lost all its brightness. Her heart beat
fast and she wept bitterly, for she remembered the old woman’s warning
and knew not what misfortune might now befall her.
The old woman returned in the night and knew by the tarnished thread
what had happened in her absence. She was furiously angry and told the
maiden that she had brought down misery both on herself and on the Prince.
The maiden could not rest for thinking of this. At last she could bear it no
longer, and resolved to seek help from the Prince.
As a child she had learned to understand the speech of birds, and this was
now of great use to her, for, seeing a raven pluming itself on a pine bough,
she cried softly to it: “Dear bird, cleverest of all birds, as well as swiftest on
wing, wilt thou help me?” “How can I help thee?” asked the raven. She
answered: “Fly away, until thou comest to a splendid town, where stands a
king’s palace; seek out the king’s son and tell him that a great misfortune
has befallen me.” Then she told the raven how her thread had lost its
brightness, how terribly angry the old woman was, and how she feared
some great disaster. The raven promised faithfully to do her bidding, and,
spreading its wings, flew away. The maiden now went home and worked
hard all day at winding up the yarn her elder sisters had spun, for the old
woman would let her spin no longer. Toward evening she heard the raven’s
“craa, craa,” from the pine tree and eagerly hastened thither to hear the
answer.
By great good fortune the raven had found a wind wizard’s son in the
palace garden, who understood the speech of birds, and to him he had
entrusted the message. When the Prince heard it, he was very sorrowful,

and took counsel with his friends how to free the maiden. Then he said to
the wind wizard’s son: “Beg the raven to fly quickly back to the maiden and
tell her to be ready on the ninth night, for then will I come and fetch her
away.” The wind wizard’s son did this, and the raven flew so swiftly that it
reached the hut that same evening. The maiden thanked the bird heartily
and went home, telling no one what she had heard.
As the ninth night drew near she became very unhappy, for she feared
lest some terrible mischance should arise and ruin all. On this night she
crept quietly out of the house and waited trembling at some little distance
from the hut. Presently she heard the muffled tramp of horses, and soon the
armed troop appeared, led by the Prince, who had prudently marked all the
trees beforehand, in order to know the way. When he saw the maiden he
sprang from his horse, lifted her into the saddle, and then, mounting behind,
rode homeward. The moon shone so brightly that they had no difficulty in
seeing the marked trees.
By and by the coming of dawn loosened the tongues of all the birds, and,
had the Prince only known what they were saying, or the maiden been
listening, they might have been spared much sorrow, but they were thinking
only of each other, and when they came out of the forest the sun was high in
the heavens.
Next morning, when the youngest girl did not come to her work, the old
woman asked where she was. The sisters pretended not to know, but the old
woman easily guessed what had happened, and, as she was in reality a
wicked witch, determined to punish the fugitives. Accordingly, she
collected nine different kinds of enchanters’ nightshade, added some salt,
which she first bewitched, and, doing all up in a cloth into the shape of a
fluffy ball, sent it after them on the wings of the wind, saying:
“Whirlwind!—mother of the wind!
Lend thy aid ‘gainst her who sinned!
Carry with thee this magic ball.
Cast her from his arms for ever,
Bury her in the rippling river.”

At midday the Prince and his men came to a deep river, spanned by so
narrow a bridge that only one rider could cross at a time. The horse on
which the Prince and the maiden were riding had just reached the middle
when the magic ball flew by. The horse in its fright suddenly reared, and
before anyone could stop it flung the maiden into the swift current below.

The Prince tried to jump in after her, but his men held him back, and in
spite of his struggles led him home, where for six weeks he shut himself up
in a secret chamber, and would neither eat nor drink, so great was his grief.
At last he became so ill his life was despaired of, and in great alarm the
King caused all the wizards of his country to be summoned. But none could
cure him. At last the wind wizard’s son said to the King: “Send for the old
wizard from Finland he knows more than all the wizards of your kingdom
put together.” A messenger was at once sent to Finland, and a week later the
old wizard himself arrived on the wings of the wind. “Honored King,” said
the wizard, “the wind has blown this illness upon your son, and a magic ball
has snatched away his beloved. This it is which makes him grieve so
constantly. Let the wind blow upon him that it may blow away his sorrow.”
Then the King made his son go out into the wind, and he gradually
recovered and told his father all. “Forget the maiden,” said the King, “and
take another bride”; but the Prince said he could never love another.
A year afterward he came suddenly upon the bridge where his beloved
met her death. As he recalled the misfortune he wept bitterly, and would
have given all he possessed to have her once more alive. In the midst of his
grief he thought he heard a voice singing, and looked round, but could see
no one. Then he heard the voice again, and it said:
“Alas! bewitched and all forsaken, ‘Tis I must lie for ever here! My
beloved no thought has taken To free his bride, that was so dear.”
He was greatly astonished, sprang from his horse, and looked everywhere
to see if no one were hidden under the bridge; but no one was there. Then
he noticed a yellow water-lily floating on the surface of the water, half
hidden by its broad leaves; but flowers do not sing, and in great surprise he
waited, hoping to hear more. Then again the voice sang:
“Alas! bewitched and all forsaken,
‘Tis I must lie for ever here!
My beloved no thought has taken
To free his bride, that was so dear.”

The Prince suddenly remembered the gold-spinners, and said to himself:
“If I ride thither, who knows but that they could explain this to me?” He at
once rode to the hut, and found the two maidens at the fountain. He told
them what had befallen their sister the year before, and how he had twice
heard a strange song, but yet could see no singer. They said that the yellow

water-lily could be none other than their sister, who was not dead, but
transformed by the magic ball. Before he went to bed, the eldest made a
cake of magic herbs, which she gave him to eat. In the night he dreamed
that he was living in the forest and could understand all that the birds said to
each other. Next morning he told this to the maidens, and they said that the
charmed cake had caused it, and advised him to listen well to the birds, and
see what they could tell him, and when he had recovered his bride they
begged him to return and deliver them from their wretched bondage.
Having promised this, he joyfully returned home, and as he was riding
through the forest he could perfectly understand all that the birds said. He
heard a thrush say to a magpie: “How stupid men are! they cannot
understand the simplest thing. It is now quite a year since the maiden was
transformed into a water-lily, and, though she sings so sadly that anyone
going over the bridge must hear her, yet no one comes to her aid. Her
former bridegroom rode over it a few days ago and heard her singing, but
was no wiser than the rest.”
“And he is to blame for all her misfortunes,” added the magpie. “If he
heeds only the words of men she will remain a flower for ever. She were
soon delivered were the matter only laid before the old wizard of Finland.”
After hearing this, the Prince wondered how he could get a message
conveyed to Finland. He heard one swallow say to another: “Come, let us
fly to Finland; we can build better nests there.”
“Stop, kind friends!” cried the Prince. “Will you do something for me?”
The birds consented, and he said: “Take a thousand greetings from me to
the wizard of Finland, and ask him how I may restore a maiden transformed
into a flower to her own form.”
The swallows flew away, and the Prince rode on to the bridge. There he
waited, hoping to hear the song. But he heard nothing but the rushing of the
water and the moaning of the wind, and, disappointed, rode home.
Shortly after, he was sitting in the garden, thinking that the swallows
must have forgotten his message, when he saw an eagle flying above him.
The bird gradually descended until it perched on a tree close to the Prince
and said: “The wizard of Finland greets thee and bids me say that thou
mayest free the maiden thus: Go to the river and smear thyself all over with
mud; then say: ‘From a man into a crab,’ and thou wilt become a crab.
Plunge boldly into the water, swim as close as thou canst to the water-lily’s

roots, and loosen them from the mud and reeds. This done, fasten thy claws
into the roots and rise with them to the surface. Let the water flow all over
the flower, and drift with the current until thou comest to a mountain ash
tree on the left bank. There is near it a large stone. Stop there and say:
‘From a crab into a man, from a water-lily into a maiden,’ and ye both will
be restored to your own forms.”
Full of doubt and fear, the Prince let some time pass before he was bold
enough to attempt to rescue the maiden. Then a crow said to him: “Why
dost thou hesitate? The old wizard has not told thee wrong, neither have the
birds deceived thee; hasten and dry the maiden’s tears.”
“Nothing worse than death can befall me,” thought the Prince, “and death
is better than endless sorrow.” So he mounted his horse and went to the
bridge. Again he heard the water-lily’s lament, and, hesitating no longer,
smeared himself all over with mud, and, saying: “From a man into a crab,”
plunged into the river. For one moment the water hissed in his ears, and
then all was silent. He swam up to the plant and began to loosen its roots,
but so firmly were they fixed in the mud and reeds that this took him a long
time. He then grasped them and rose to the surface, letting the water flow
over the flower. The current carried them down the stream, but nowhere
could he see the mountain ash. At last he saw it, and close by the large
stone. Here he stopped and said: “From a crab into a man, from a water-lily
into a maiden,” and to his delight found himself once more a prince, and the
maiden was by his side. She was ten times more beautiful than before, and
wore a magnificent pale yellow robe, sparkling with jewels. She thanked
him for having freed her from the cruel witch’s power, and willingly
consented to marry him.
But when they came to the bridge where he had left his horse it was
nowhere to be seen, for, though the Prince thought he had been a crab only
a few hours, he had in reality been under the water for more than ten days.
While they were wondering how they should reach his father’s court, they
saw a splendid coach driven by six gaily caparisoned horses coming along
the bank. In this they drove to the palace. The King and Queen were at
church, weeping for their son, whom they had long mourned for dead. Great
was their delight and astonishment when the Prince entered, leading the
beautiful maiden by the hand. The wedding was at once celebrated and

there was feasting and merry-making throughout the kingdom for six
weeks.
Some time afterward the Prince and his bride were sitting in the garden,
when a crow said to them: “Ungrateful creatures! Have you forgotten the
two poor maidens who helped you in your distress? Must they spin gold
flax for ever? Have no pity on the old witch. The three maidens are
princesses, whom she stole away when they were children together, with all
the silver utensils, which she turned into gold flax. Poison were her fittest
punishment.”
The Prince was ashamed of having forgotten his promise and set out at
once, and by great good fortune reached the hut when the old woman was
away. The maidens had dreamed that he was coming, and were ready to go
with him, but first they made a cake in which they put poison, and left it on
a table where the old woman was likely to see it when she returned. She did
see it, and thought it looked so tempting that she greedily ate it up and at
once died.
In the secret chamber were found fifty wagon-loads of gold flax, and as
much more was discovered buried. The hut was razed to the ground, and the
Prince and his bride and her two sisters lived happily ever after.

THE TERRIBLE HEAD
Once upon a time there was a king whose only child was a girl. Now the
King had been very anxious to have a son, or at least a grandson, to come
after him, but he was told by a prophet whom he consulted that his own
daughter’s son should kill him. This news terrified him so much that he
determined never to let his daughter be married, for he thought it was better
to have no grandson at all than to be killed by his grandson. He therefore
called his workmen together, and bade them dig a deep round hole in the
earth, and then he had a prison of brass built in the hole, and then, when it
was finished, he locked up his daughter. No man ever saw her, and she
never saw even the fields and the sea, but only the sky and the sun, for there
was a wide open window in the roof of the house of brass. So the Princess
would sit looking up at the sky, and watching the clouds float across, and
wondering whether she should ever get out of her prison. Now one day it
seemed to her that the sky opened above her, and a great shower of shining
gold fell through the window in the roof, and lay glittering in her room. Not
very long after, the Princess had a baby, a little boy, but when the King her
father heard of it he was very angry and afraid, for now the child was born
that should be his death. Yet, cowardly as he was, he had not quite the heart
to kill the Princess and her baby outright, but he had them put in a huge
brass-bound chest and thrust out to sea, that they might either be drowned
or starved, or perhaps come to a country where they would be out of his
way.
So the Princess and the baby floated and drifted in the chest on the sea all
day and night, but the baby was not afraid of the waves nor of the wind, for
he did not know that they could hurt him, and he slept quite soundly. And
the Princess sang a song over him, and this was her song:
“Child, my child, how sound you sleep!
Though your mother’s care is deep,
You can lie with heart at rest
In the narrow brass-bound chest;
In the starless night and drear
You can sleep, and never hear
Billows breaking, and the cry
Of the night-wind wandering by;
In soft purple mantle sleeping

With your little face on mine,
Hearing not your mother weeping
And the breaking of the brine.”

Well, the daylight came at last, and the great chest was driven by the
waves against the shore of an island. There the brass-bound chest lay, with
the Princess and her baby in it, till a man of that country came past, and saw
it, and dragged it on to the beach, and when he had broken it open, behold!
there was a beautiful lady and a little boy. So he took them home, and was
very kind to them, and brought up the boy till he was a young man. Now
when the boy had come to his full strength the King of that country fell in
love with his mother, and wanted to marry her, but he knew that she would
never part from her boy. So he thought of a plan to get rid of the boy, and
this was his plan: A great Queen of a country not far off was going to be
married, and this king said that all his subjects must bring him wedding
presents to give her. And he made a feast to which he invited them all, and
they all brought their presents; some brought gold cups, and some brought
necklaces of gold and amber, and some brought beautiful horses; but the
boy had nothing, though he was the son of a princess, for his mother had
nothing to give him. Then the rest of the company began to laugh at him,
and the King said: “If you have nothing else to give, at least you might go
and fetch the Terrible Head.”
The boy was proud, and spoke without thinking:
“Then I swear that I will bring the Terrible Head, if it may be brought by
a living man. But of what head you speak I know not.”
Then they told him that somewhere, a long way off, there dwelt three
dreadful sisters, monstrous ogrish women, with golden wings and claws of
brass, and with serpents growing on their heads instead of hair. Now these
women were so awful to look on that whoever saw them was turned at once
into stone. And two of them could not be put to death, but the youngest,
whose face was very beautiful, could be killed, and it was her head that the
boy had promised to bring. You may imagine it was no easy adventure.
When he heard all this he was perhaps sorry that he had sworn to bring
the Terrible Head, but he was determined to keep his oath. So he went out
from the feast, where they all sat drinking and making merry, and he walked
alone beside the sea in the dusk of the evening, at the place where the great
chest, with himself and his mother in it, had been cast ashore.

There he went and sat down on a rock, looking toward the sea, and
wondering how he should begin to fulfill his vow. Then he felt some one
touch him on the shoulder; and he turned, and saw a young man like a
king’s son, having with him a tall and beautiful lady, whose blue eyes shone
like stars. They were taller than mortal men, and the young man had a staff
in his hand with golden wings on it, and two golden serpents twisted round
it, and he had wings on his cap and on his shoes. He spoke to the boy, and
asked him why he was so unhappy; and the boy told him how he had sworn
to bring the Terrible Head, and knew not how to begin to set about the
adventure.
Then the beautiful lady also spoke, and said that “it was a foolish oath
and a hasty, but it might be kept if a brave man had sworn it.” Then the boy
answered that he was not afraid, if only he knew the way.
Then the lady said that to kill the dreadful woman with the golden wings
and the brass claws, and to cut off her head, he needed three things: first, a
Cap of Darkness, which would make him invisible when he wore it; next, a
Sword of Sharpness, which would cleave iron at one blow; and last, the
Shoes of Swiftness, with which he might fly in the air.
The boy answered that he knew not where such things were to be
procured, and that, wanting them, he could only try and fail. Then the
young man, taking off his own shoes, said: “First, you shall use these shoes
till you have taken the Terrible Head, and then you must give them back to
me. And with these shoes you will fly as fleet as a bird, or a thought, over
the land or over the waves of the sea, wherever the shoes know the way. But
there are ways which they do not know, roads beyond the borders of the
world. And these roads have you to travel. Now first you must go to the
Three Gray Sisters, who live far off in the north, and are so very cold that
they have only one eye and one tooth among the three. You must creep up
close to them, and as one of them passes the eye to the other you must seize
it, and refuse to give it up till they have told you the way to the Three
Fairies of the Garden, and they will give you the Cap of Darkness and the
Sword of Sharpness, and show you how to wing beyond this world to the
land of the Terrible Head.”
Then the beautiful lady said: “Go forth at once, and do not return to say
good-by to your mother, for these things must be done quickly, and the

Shoes of Swiftness themselves will carry you to the land of the Three Gray
Sisters—for they know the measure of that way.”
So the boy thanked her, and he fastened on the Shoes of Swiftness, and
turned to say good-by to the young man and the lady. But, behold! they had
vanished, he knew not how or where! Then he leaped in the air to try the
Shoes of Swiftness, and they carried him more swiftly than the wind, over
the warm blue sea, over the happy lands of the south, over the northern
peoples who drank mare’s milk and lived in great wagons, wandering after
their flocks. Across the wide rivers, where the wild fowl rose and fled
before him, and over the plains and the cold North Sea he went, over the
fields of snow and the hills of ice, to a place where the world ends, and all
water is frozen, and there are no men, nor beasts, nor any green grass. There
in a blue cave of the ice he found the Three Gray Sisters, the oldest of living
things. Their hair was as white as the snow, and their flesh of an icy blue,
and they mumbled and nodded in a kind of dream, and their frozen breath
hung round them like a cloud. Now the opening of the cave in the ice was
narrow, and it was not easy to pass in without touching one of the Gray
Sisters. But, floating on the Shoes of Swiftness, the boy just managed to
steal in, and waited till one of the sisters said to another, who had their one
eye:
“Sister, what do you see? do you see old times coming back?”
“No, sister.”
“Then give me the eye, for perhaps I can see farther than you.”
Then the first sister passed the eye to the second, but as the second
groped for it the boy caught it cleverly out of her hand.
“Where is the eye, sister?” said the second gray woman.
“You have taken it yourself, sister,” said the first gray woman.
“Have you lost the eye, sister? have you lost the eye?” said the third gray
woman; “shall we never find it again, and see old times coming back?”
Then the boy slipped from behind them out of the cold cave into the air,
and he laughed aloud.
When the gray women heard that laugh they began to weep, for now they
knew that a stranger had robbed them, and that they could not help
themselves, and their tears froze as they fell from the hollows where no
eyes were, and rattled on the icy ground of the cave. Then they began to

implore the boy to give them their eye back again, and he could not help
being sorry for them, they were so pitiful. But he said he would never give
them the eye till they told him the way to the Fairies of the Garden.
Then they wrung their hands miserably, for they guessed why he had
come, and how he was going to try to win the Terrible Head. Now the
Dreadful Women were akin to the Three Gray Sisters, and it was hard for
them to tell the boy the way. But at last they told him to keep always south,
and with the land on his left and the sea on his right, till he reached the
Island of the Fairies of the Garden. Then he gave them back the eye, and
they began to look out once more for the old times coming back again. But
the boy flew south between sea and land, keeping the land always on his
left hand, till he saw a beautiful island crowned with flowering trees. There
he alighted, and there he found the Three Fairies of the Garden. They were
like three very beautiful young women, dressed one in green, one in white,
and one in red, and they were dancing and singing round an apple tree with
apples of gold, and this was their song:
THE SONG OF THE WESTERN FAIRIES

Round and round the apples of gold,
Round and round dance we;
Thus do we dance from the days of old
About the enchanted tree;
Round, and round, and round we go,
While the spring is green, or the stream shall flow,
Or the wind shall stir the sea!

There is none may taste of the golden fruit
Till the golden new time come
Many a tree shall spring from shoot,
Many a blossom be withered at root,
Many a song be dumb;
Broken and still shall be many a lute
Or ever the new times come!

Round and round the tree of gold,
Round and round dance we,
So doth the great world spin from of old,
Summer and winter, and fire and cold,
Song that is sung, and tale that is told,
Even as we dance, that fold and unfold
Round the stem of the fairy tree!

These grave dancing fairies were very unlike the Grey Women, and they
were glad to see the boy, and treated him kindly. Then they asked him why
he had come; and he told them how he was sent to find the Sword of
Sharpness and the Cap of Darkness. And the fairies gave him these, and a
wallet, and a shield, and belted the sword, which had a diamond blade,

round his waist, and the cap they set on his head, and told him that now
even they could not see him though they were fairies. Then he took it off,
and they each kissed him and wished him good fortune, and then they
began again their eternal dance round the golden tree, for it is their business
to guard it till the new times come, or till the world’s ending. So the boy put
the cap on his head, and hung the wallet round his waist, and the shining
shield on his shoulders, and flew beyond the great river that lies coiled like
a serpent round the whole world. And by the banks of that river, there he
found the three Terrible Women all asleep beneath a poplar tree, and the
dead poplar leaves lay all about them. Their golden wings were folded and
their brass claws were crossed, and two of them slept with their hideous
heads beneath their wings like birds, and the serpents in their hair writhed
out from under the feathers of gold. But the youngest slept between her two
sisters, and she lay on her back, with her beautiful sad face turned to the
sky; and though she slept her eyes were wide open. If the boy had seen her
he would have been changed into stone by the terror and the pity of it, she
was so awful; but he had thought of a plan for killing her without looking
on her face. As soon as he caught sight of the three from far off he took his
shining shield from his shoulders, and held it up like a mirror, so that he
saw the Dreadful Women reflected in it, and did not see the Terrible Head
itself. Then he came nearer and nearer, till he reckoned that he was within a
sword’s stroke of the youngest, and he guessed where he should strike a
back blow behind him. Then he drew the Sword of Sharpness and struck
once, and the Terrible Head was cut from the shoulders of the creature, and
the blood leaped out and struck him like a blow. But he thrust the Terrible
Head into his wallet, and flew away without looking behind. Then the two
Dreadful Sisters who were left wakened, and rose in the air like great birds;
and though they could not see him because of his Cap of Darkness, they
flew after him up the wind, following by the scent through the clouds, like
hounds hunting in a wood. They came so close that he could hear the clatter
of their golden wings, and their shrieks to each other: “here, here,” “no,
there; this way he went,” as they chased him. But the Shoes of Swiftness
flew too fast for them, and at last their cries and the rattle of their wings
died away as he crossed the great river that runs round the world.
Now when the horrible creatures were far in the distance, and the boy
found himself on the right side of the river, he flew straight eastward, trying
to seek his own country. But as he looked down from the air he saw a very

strange sight—a beautiful girl chained to a stake at the high-water mark of
the sea. The girl was so frightened or so tired that she was only prevented
from falling by the iron chain about her waist, and there she hung, as if she
were dead. The boy was very sorry for her and flew down and stood beside
her. When he spoke she raised her head and looked round, but his voice
only seemed to frighten her. Then he remembered that he was wearing the
Cap of Darkness, and that she could only hear him, not see him. So he took
it off, and there he stood before her, the handsomest young man she had
ever seen in all her life, with short curly yellow hair, and blue eyes, and a
laughing face. And he thought her the most beautiful girl in the world. So
first with one blow of the Sword of Sharpness he cut the iron chain that
bound her, and then he asked her what she did there, and why men treated
her so cruelly. And she told him that she was the daughter of the King of
that country, and that she was tied there to be eaten by a monstrous beast
out of the sea; for the beast came and devoured a girl every day. Now the lot
had fallen on her; and as she was just saying this a long fierce head of a
cruel sea creature rose out of the waves and snapped at the girl. But the
beast had been too greedy and too hurried, so he missed his aim the first
time. Before he could rise and bite again the boy had whipped the Terrible
Head out of his wallet and held it up. And when the sea beast leaped out
once more its eyes fell on the head, and instantly it was turned into a stone.
And the stone beast is there on the sea-coast to this day.
Then the boy and the girl went to the palace of the King, her father,
where everyone was weeping for her death, and they could hardly believe
their eyes when they saw her come back well. And the King and Queen
made much of the boy, and could not contain themselves for delight when
they found he wanted to marry their daughter. So the two were married with
the most splendid rejoicings, and when they had passed some time at court
they went home in a ship to the boy’s own country. For he could not carry
his bride through the air, so he took the Shoes of Swiftness, and the Cap of
Darkness, and the Sword of Sharpness up to a lonely place in the hills.
There he left them, and there they were found by the man and woman who
had met him at home beside the sea, and had helped him to start on his
journey.
When this had been done the boy and his bride set forth for home, and
landed at the harbor of his native land. But whom should he meet in the
very street of the town but his own mother, flying for her life from the

wicked King, who now wished to kill her because he found that she would
never marry him! For if she had liked the King ill before, she liked him far
worse now that he had caused her son to disappear so suddenly. She did not
know, of course, where the boy had gone, but thought the King had slain
him secretly. So now she was running for her very life, and the wicked King
was following her with a sword in his hand. Then, behold! she ran into her
son’s very arms, but he had only time to kiss her and step in front of her,
when the King struck at him with his sword. The boy caught the blow on
his shield, and cried to the King:
“I swore to bring you the Terrible Head, and see how I keep my oath!”
Then he drew forth the head from his wallet, and when the King’s eyes
fell on it, instantly he was turned into stone, just as he stood there with his
sword lifted!
Now all the people rejoiced, because the wicked King should rule them
no longer. And they asked the boy to be their king, but he said no, he must
take his mother home to her father’s house. So the people chose for king the
man who had been kind to his mother when first she was cast on the island
in the great chest.
Presently the boy and his mother and his wife set sail for his mother’s
own country, from which she had been driven so unkindly. But on the way
they stayed at the court of a king, and it happened that he was holding
games, and giving prizes to the best runners, boxers, and quoit-throwers.
Then the boy would try his strength with the rest, but he threw the quoit so
far that it went beyond what had ever been thrown before, and fell in the
crowd, striking a man so that he died. Now this man was no other than the
father of the boy’s mother, who had fled away from his own kingdom for
fear his grandson should find him and kill him after all. Thus he was
destroyed by his own cowardice and by chance, and thus the prophecy was
fulfilled. But the boy and his wife and his mother went back to the kingdom
that was theirs, and lived long and happily after all their troubles.

THE STORY OF PRETTY GOLDILOCKS
Once upon a time there was a princess who was the prettiest creature in
the world. And because she was so beautiful, and because her hair was like
the finest gold, and waved and rippled nearly to the ground, she was called
Pretty Goldilocks. She always wore a crown of flowers, and her dresses
were embroidered with diamonds and pearls, and everybody who saw her
fell in love with her.
Now one of her neighbors was a young king who was not married. He
was very rich and handsome, and when he heard all that was said about
Pretty Goldilocks, though he had never seen her, he fell so deeply in love
with her that he could neither eat nor drink. So he resolved to send an
ambassador to ask her in marriage. He had a splendid carriage made for his
ambassador, and gave him more than a hundred horses and a hundred
servants, and told him to be sure and bring the Princess back with him.
After he had started nothing else was talked of at Court, and the King felt so
sure that the Princess would consent that he set his people to work at pretty
dresses and splendid furniture, that they might be ready by the time she
came. Meanwhile, the ambassador arrived at the Princess’s palace and
delivered his little message, but whether she happened to be cross that day,
or whether the compliment did not please her, is not known. She only
answered that she was very much obliged to the King, but she had no wish
to be married. The ambassador set off sadly on his homeward way, bringing
all the King’s presents back with him, for the Princess was too well brought
up to accept the pearls and diamonds when she would not accept the King,
so she had only kept twenty-five English pins that he might not be vexed.
When the ambassador reached the city, where the King was waiting
impatiently, everybody was very much annoyed with him for not bringing
the Princess, and the King cried like a baby, and nobody could console him.
Now there was at the Court a young man, who was more clever and
handsome than anyone else. He was called Charming, and everyone loved
him, excepting a few envious people who were angry at his being the
King’s favorite and knowing all the State secrets. He happened to one day
be with some people who were speaking of the ambassador’s return and

saying that his going to the Princess had not done much good, when
Charming said rashly:
“If the King had sent me to the Princess Goldilocks I am sure she would
have come back with me.”
His enemies at once went to the King and said:
“You will hardly believe, sire, what Charming has the audacity to say—
that if he had been sent to the Princess Goldilocks she would certainly have
come back with him. He seems to think that he is so much handsomer than
you that the Princess would have fallen in love with him and followed him
willingly.” The King was very angry when he heard this.
“Ha, ha!” said he; “does he laugh at my unhappiness, and think himself
more fascinating than I am? Go, and let him be shut up in my great tower to
die of hunger.”
So the King’s guards went to fetch Charming, who had thought no more
of his rash speech, and carried him off to prison with great cruelty. The poor
prisoner had only a little straw for his bed, and but for a little stream of
water which flowed through the tower he would have died of thirst.
One day when he was in despair he said to himself:
“How can I have offended the King? I am his most faithful subject, and
have done nothing against him.”
The King chanced to be passing the tower and recognized the voice of his
former favorite. He stopped to listen in spite of Charming’s enemies, who
tried to persuade him to have nothing more to do with the traitor. But the
King said:
“Be quiet, I wish to hear what he says.”
And then he opened the tower door and called to Charming, who came
very sadly and kissed the King’s hand, saying:
“What have I done, sire, to deserve this cruel treatment?”
“You mocked me and my ambassador,” said the King, “and you said that
if I had sent you for the Princess Goldilocks you would certainly have
brought her back.”
“It is quite true, sire,” replied Charming; “I should have drawn such a
picture of you, and represented your good qualities in such a way, that I am

certain the Princess would have found you irresistible. But I cannot see
what there is in that to make you angry.”
The King could not see any cause for anger either when the matter was
presented to him in this light, and he began to frown very fiercely at the
courtiers who had so misrepresented his favorite.
So he took Charming back to the palace with him, and after seeing that
he had a very good supper he said to him:
“You know that I love Pretty Goldilocks as much as ever, her refusal has
not made any difference to me; but I don’t know how to make her change
her mind; I really should like to send you, to see if you can persuade her to
marry me.”
Charming replied that he was perfectly willing to go, and would set out
the very next day.
“But you must wait till I can get a grand escort for you,” said the King.
But Charming said that he only wanted a good horse to ride, and the King,
who was delighted at his being ready to start so promptly, gave him letters
to the Princess, and bade him good speed. It was on a Monday morning that
he set out all alone upon his errand, thinking of nothing but how he could
persuade the Princess Goldilocks to marry the King. He had a writing-book
in his pocket, and whenever any happy thought struck him he dismounted
from his horse and sat down under the trees to put it into the harangue
which he was preparing for the Princess, before he forgot it.
One day when he had started at the very earliest dawn, and was riding
over a great meadow, he suddenly had a capital idea, and, springing from
his horse, he sat down under a willow tree which grew by a little river.
When he had written it down he was looking round him, pleased to find
himself in such a pretty place, when all at once he saw a great golden carp
lying gasping and exhausted upon the grass. In leaping after little flies she
had thrown herself high upon the bank, where she had lain till she was
nearly dead. Charming had pity upon her, and, though he couldn’t help
thinking that she would have been very nice for dinner, he picked her up
gently and put her back into the water. As soon as Dame Carp felt the
refreshing coolness of the water she sank down joyfully to the bottom of the
river, then, swimming up to the bank quite boldly, she said:
“I thank you, Charming, for the kindness you have done me. You have
saved my life; one day I will repay you.” So saying, she sank down into the

water again, leaving Charming greatly astonished at her politeness.
Another day, as he journeyed on, he saw a raven in great distress. The
poor bird was closely pursued by an eagle, which would soon have eaten it
up, had not Charming quickly fitted an arrow to his bow and shot the eagle
dead. The raven perched upon a tree very joyfully.
“Charming,” said he, “it was very generous of you to rescue a poor
raven; I am not ungrateful, some day I will repay you.”
Charming thought it was very nice of the raven to say so, and went on his
way.
Before the sun rose he found himself in a thick wood where it was too
dark for him to see his path, and here he heard an owl crying as if it were in
despair.
“Hark!” said he, “that must be an owl in great trouble, I am sure it has
gone into a snare”; and he began to hunt about, and presently found a great
net which some bird-catchers had spread the night before.
“What a pity it is that men do nothing but torment and persecute poor
creatures which never do them any harm!” said he, and he took out his knife
and cut the cords of the net, and the owl flitted away into the darkness, but
then turning, with one flicker of her wings, she came back to Charming and
said:
“It does not need many words to tell you how great a service you have
done me. I was caught; in a few minutes the fowlers would have been here
—without your help I should have been killed. I am grateful, and one day I
will repay you.”
These three adventures were the only ones of any consequence that befell
Charming upon his journey, and he made all the haste he could to reach the
palace of the Princess Goldilocks.
When he arrived he thought everything he saw delightful and
magnificent. Diamonds were as plentiful as pebbles, and the gold and silver,
the beautiful dresses, the sweetmeats and pretty things that were
everywhere quite amazed him; he thought to himself: “If the Princess
consents to leave all this, and come with me to marry the King, he may
think himself lucky!”
Then he dressed himself carefully in rich brocade, with scarlet and white
plumes, and threw a splendid embroidered scarf over his shoulder, and,

looking as gay and as graceful as possible, he presented himself at the door
of the palace, carrying in his arm a tiny pretty dog which he had bought on
the way. The guards saluted him respectfully, and a messenger was sent to
the Princess to announce the arrival of Charming as ambassador of her
neighbor the King.
“Charming,” said the Princess, “the name promises well; I have no doubt
that he is good looking and fascinates everybody.”
“Indeed he does, madam,” said all her maids of honor in one breath. “We
saw him from the window of the garret where we were spinning flax, and
we could do nothing but look at him as long as he was in sight.”
“Well to be sure,” said the Princess, “that’s how you amuse yourselves, is
it? Looking at strangers out of the window! Be quick and give me my blue
satin embroidered dress, and comb out my golden hair. Let somebody make
me fresh garlands of flowers, and give me my high-heeled shoes and my
fan, and tell them to sweep my great hall and my throne, for I want
everyone to say I am really ‘Pretty Goldilocks.’”
You can imagine how all her maids scurried this way and that to make
the Princess ready, and how in their haste they knocked their heads together
and hindered each other, till she thought they would never have done.
However, at last they led her into the gallery of mirrors that she might
assure herself that nothing was lacking in her appearance, and then she
mounted her throne of gold, ebony, and ivory, while her ladies took their
guitars and began to sing softly. Then Charming was led in, and was so
struck with astonishment and admiration that at first not a word could he
say. But presently he took courage and delivered his harangue, bravely
ending by begging the Princess to spare him the disappointment of going
back without her.
“Sir Charming,” answered she, “all the reasons you have given me are
very good ones, and I assure you that I should have more pleasure in
obliging you than anyone else, but you must know that a month ago as I
was walking by the river with my ladies I took off my glove, and as I did so
a ring that I was wearing slipped off my finger and rolled into the water. As
I valued it more than my kingdom, you may imagine how vexed I was at
losing it, and I vowed to never listen to any proposal of marriage unless the
ambassador first brought me back my ring. So now you know what is

expected of you, for if you talked for fifteen days and fifteen nights you
could not make me change my mind.”
Charming was very much surprised by this answer, but he bowed low to
the Princess, and begged her to accept the embroidered scarf and the tiny
dog he had brought with him. But she answered that she did not want any
presents, and that he was to remember what she had just told him. When he
got back to his lodging he went to bed without eating any supper, and his
little dog, who was called Frisk, couldn’t eat any either, but came and lay
down close to him. All night Charming sighed and lamented.
“How am I to find a ring that fell into the river a month ago?” said he. “It
is useless to try; the Princess must have told me to do it on purpose,
knowing it was impossible.” And then he sighed again.
Frisk heard him and said:
“My dear master, don’t despair; the luck may change, you are too good
not to be happy. Let us go down to the river as soon as it is light.”
But Charming only gave him two little pats and said nothing, and very
soon he fell asleep.
At the first glimmer of dawn Frisk began to jump about, and when he had
waked Charming they went out together, first into the garden, and then
down to the river’s brink, where they wandered up and down. Charming
was thinking sadly of having to go back unsuccessful when he heard
someone calling: “Charming, Charming!” He looked all about him and
thought he must be dreaming, as he could not see anybody. Then he walked
on and the voice called again: “Charming, Charming!”
“Who calls me?” said he. Frisk, who was very small and could look
closely into the water, cried out: “I see a golden carp coming.” And sure
enough there was the great carp, who said to Charming:
“You saved my life in the meadow by the willow tree, and I promised
that I would repay you. Take this, it is Princess Goldilock’s ring.” Charming
took the ring out of Dame Carp’s mouth, thanking her a thousand times, and
he and tiny Frisk went straight to the palace, where someone told the
Princess that he was asking to see her.
“Ah! poor fellow,” said she, “he must have come to say good-by, finding
it impossible to do as I asked.”
So in came Charming, who presented her with the ring and said:

“Madam, I have done your bidding. Will it please you to marry my
master?” When the Princess saw her ring brought back to her unhurt she
was so astonished that she thought she must be dreaming.
“Truly, Charming,” said she, “you must be the favorite of some fairy, or
you could never have found it.”
“Madam,” answered he, “I was helped by nothing but my desire to obey
your wishes.”
“Since you are so kind,” said she, “perhaps you will do me another
service, for till it is done I will never be married. There is a prince not far
from here whose name is Galifron, who once wanted to marry me, but when
I refused he uttered the most terrible threats against me, and vowed that he
would lay waste my country. But what could I do? I could not marry a
frightful giant as tall as a tower, who eats up people as a monkey eats
chestnuts, and who talks so loud that anybody who has to listen to him
becomes quite deaf. Nevertheless, he does not cease to persecute me and to
kill my subjects. So before I can listen to your proposal you must kill him
and bring me his head.”
Charming was rather dismayed at this command, but he answered:
“Very well, Princess, I will fight this Galifron; I believe that he will kill
me, but at any rate I shall die in your defense.”
Then the Princess was frightened and said everything she could think of
to prevent Charming from fighting the giant, but it was of no use, and he
went out to arm himself suitably, and then, taking little Frisk with him, he
mounted his horse and set out for Galifron’s country. Everyone he met told
him what a terrible giant Galifron was, and that nobody dared go near him;
and the more he heard, the more frightened he grew. Frisk tried to
encourage him by saying: “While you are fighting the giant, dear master, I
will go and bite his heels, and when he stoops down to look at me you can
kill him.”
Charming praised his little dog’s plan, but knew that this help would not
do much good.
At last he drew near the giant’s castle, and saw to his horror that every
path that led to it was strewn with bones. Before long he saw Galifron
coming. His head was higher than the tallest trees, and he sang in a terrible
voice:

“Bring out your little boys and girls,
Pray do not stay to do their curls,
For I shall eat so very many,
I shall not know if they have any.”

Thereupon Charming sang out as loud as he could to the same tune:
“Come out and meet the valiant Charming
Who finds you not at all alarming;
Although he is not very tall,
He’s big enough to make you fall.”

The rhymes were not very correct, but you see he had made them up so
quickly that it is a miracle that they were not worse; especially as he was
horribly frightened all the time. When Galifron heard these words he looked
all about him, and saw Charming standing, sword in hand this put the giant
into a terrible rage, and he aimed a blow at Charming with his huge iron
club, which would certainly have killed him if it had reached him, but at
that instant a raven perched upon the giant’s head, and, pecking with its
strong beak and beating with its great wings so confused and blinded him
that all his blows fell harmlessly upon the air, and Charming, rushing in,
gave him several strokes with his sharp sword so that he fell to the ground.
Whereupon Charming cut off his head before he knew anything about it,
and the raven from a tree close by croaked out:
“You see I have not forgotten the good turn you did me in killing the
eagle. To-day I think I have fulfilled my promise of repaying you.”
“Indeed, I owe you more gratitude than you ever owed me,” replied
Charming.
And then he mounted his horse and rode off with Galifron’s head.
When he reached the city the people ran after him in crowds, crying:
“Behold the brave Charming, who has killed the giant!” And their shouts
reached the Princess’s ear, but she dared not ask what was happening, for
fear she should hear that Charming had been killed. But very soon he
arrived at the palace with the giant’s head, of which she was still terrified,
though it could no longer do her any harm.
“Princess,” said Charming, “I have killed your enemy; I hope you will
now consent to marry the King my master.”
“Oh dear! no,” said the Princess, “not until you have brought me some
water from the Gloomy Cavern.

“Not far from here there is a deep cave, the entrance to which is guarded
by two dragons with fiery eyes, who will not allow anyone to pass them.
When you get into the cavern you will find an immense hole, which you
must go down, and it is full of toads and snakes; at the bottom of this hole
there is another little cave, in which rises the Fountain of Health and
Beauty. It is some of this water that I really must have: everything it touches
becomes wonderful. The beautiful things will always remain beautiful, and
the ugly things become lovely. If one is young one never grows old, and if
one is old one becomes young. You see, Charming, I could not leave my
kingdom without taking some of it with me.”
“Princess,” said he, “you at least can never need this water, but I am an
unhappy ambassador, whose death you desire. Where you send me I will
go, though I know I shall never return.”
And, as the Princess Goldilocks showed no sign of relenting, he started
with his little dog for the Gloomy Cavern. Everyone he met on the way
said:
“What a pity that a handsome young man should throw away his life so
carelessly! He is going to the cavern alone, though if he had a hundred men
with him he could not succeed. Why does the Princess ask impossibilities?”
Charming said nothing, but he was very sad. When he was near the top of a
hill he dismounted to let his horse graze, while Frisk amused himself by
chasing flies. Charming knew he could not be far from the Gloomy Cavern,
and on looking about him he saw a black hideous rock from which came a
thick smoke, followed in a moment by one of the dragons with fire blazing
from his mouth and eyes. His body was yellow and green, and his claws
scarlet, and his tail was so long that it lay in a hundred coils. Frisk was so
terrified at the sight of it that he did not know where to hide. Charming,
quite determined to get the water or die, now drew his sword, and, taking
the crystal flask which Pretty Goldilocks had given him to fill, said to Frisk:
“I feel sure that I shall never come back from this expedition; when I am
dead, go to the Princess and tell her that her errand has cost me my life.
Then find the King my master, and relate all my adventures to him.”
As he spoke he heard a voice calling: “Charming, Charming!”
“Who calls me?” said he; then he saw an owl sitting in a hollow tree,
who said to him:

“You saved my life when I was caught in the net, now I can repay you.
Trust me with the flask, for I know all the ways of the Gloomy Cavern, and
can fill it from the Fountain of Beauty.” Charming was only too glad to give
her the flask, and she flitted into the cavern quite unnoticed by the dragon,
and after some time returned with the flask, filled to the very brim with
sparkling water. Charming thanked her with all his heart, and joyfully
hastened back to the town.
He went straight to the palace and gave the flask to the Princess, who had
no further objection to make. So she thanked Charming, and ordered that
preparations should be made for her departure, and they soon set out
together. The Princess found Charming such an agreeable companion that
she sometimes said to him: “Why didn’t we stay where we were? I could
have made you king, and we should have been so happy!”
But Charming only answered:
“I could not have done anything that would have vexed my master so
much, even for a kingdom, or to please you, though I think you are as
beautiful as the sun.”
At last they reached the King’s great city, and he came out to meet the
Princess, bringing magnificent presents, and the marriage was celebrated
with great rejoicings. But Goldilocks was so fond of Charming that she
could not be happy unless he was near her, and she was always singing his
praises.
“If it hadn’t been for Charming,” she said to the King, “I should never
have come here; you ought to be very much obliged to him, for he did the
most impossible things and got me water from the Fountain of Beauty, so I
can never grow old, and shall get prettier every year.”
Then Charming’s enemies said to the King:
“It is a wonder that you are not jealous, the Queen thinks there is nobody
in the world like Charming. As if anybody you had sent could not have
done just as much!”
“It is quite true, now I come to think of it,” said the King. “Let him be
chained hand and foot, and thrown into the tower.”
So they took Charming, and as a reward for having served the King so
faithfully he was shut up in the tower, where he only saw the jailer, who
brought him a piece of black bread and a pitcher of water every day.

However, little Frisk came to console him, and told him all the news.
When Pretty Goldilocks heard what had happened she threw herself at
the King’s feet and begged him to set Charming free, but the more she
cried, the more angry he was, and at last she saw that it was useless to say
any more; but it made her very sad. Then the King took it into his head that
perhaps he was not handsome enough to please the Princess Goldilocks,
and he thought he would bathe his face with the water from the Fountain of
Beauty, which was in the flask on a shelf in the Princess’s room, where she
had placed it that she might see it often. Now it happened that one of the
Princess’s ladies in chasing a spider had knocked the flask off the shelf and
broken it, and every drop of the water had been spilt. Not knowing what to
do, she had hastily swept away the pieces of crystal, and then remembered
that in the King’s room she had seen a flask of exactly the same shape, also
filled with sparkling water. So, without saying a word, she fetched it and
stood it upon the Queen’s shelf.
Now the water in this flask was what was used in the kingdom for getting
rid of troublesome people. Instead of having their heads cut off in the usual
way, their faces were bathed with the water, and they instantly fell asleep
and never woke up any more. So, when the King, thinking to improve his
beauty, took the flask and sprinkled the water upon his face, he fell asleep,
and nobody could wake him.
Little Frisk was the first to hear the news, and he ran to tell Charming,
who sent him to beg the Princess not to forget the poor prisoner. All the
palace was in confusion on account of the King’s death, but tiny Frisk made
his way through the crowd to the Princess’s side, and said:
“Madam, do not forget poor Charming.”
Then she remembered all he had done for her, and without saying a word
to anyone went straight to the tower, and with her own hands took off
Charming’s chains. Then, putting a golden crown upon his head, and the
royal mantle upon his shoulders, she said:
“Come, faithful Charming, I make you king, and will take you for my
husband.”
Charming, once more free and happy, fell at her feet and thanked her for
her gracious words.

Everybody was delighted that he should be king, and the wedding, which
took place at once, was the prettiest that can be imagined, and Prince
Charming and Princess Goldilocks lived happily ever after.(1)
(1) Madame d’Aulnoy.

THE HISTORY OF WHITTINGTON
Dick Whittington was a very little boy when his father and mother died;
so little, indeed, that he never knew them, nor the place where he was born.
He strolled about the country as ragged as a colt, till he met with a wagoner
who was going to London, and who gave him leave to walk all the way by
the side of his wagon without paying anything for his passage. This pleased
little Whittington very much, as he wanted to see London sadly, for he had
heard that the streets were paved with gold, and he was willing to get a
bushel of it; but how great was his disappointment, poor boy! when he saw
the streets covered with dirt instead of gold, and found himself in a strange
place, without a friend, without food, and without money.
Though the wagoner was so charitable as to let him walk up by the side
of the wagon for nothing, he took care not to know him when he came to
town, and the poor boy was, in a little time, so cold and hungry that he
wished himself in a good kitchen and by a warm fire in the country.
In his distress he asked charity of several people, and one of them bid
him “Go to work for an idle rogue.” “That I will,” said Whittington, “with
all my heart; I will work for you if you will let me.”
The man, who thought this savored of wit and impertinence (though the
poor lad intended only to show his readiness to work), gave him a blow
with a stick which broke his head so that the blood ran down. In this
situation, and fainting for want of food, he laid himself down at the door of
one Mr. Fitzwarren, a merchant, where the cook saw him, and, being an ill-
natured hussy, ordered him to go about his business or she would scald him.
At this time Mr. Fitzwarren came from the Exchange, and began also to
scold at the poor boy, bidding him to go to work.
Whittington answered that he should be glad to work if anybody would
employ him, and that he should be able if he could get some victuals to eat,
for he had had nothing for three days, and he was a poor country boy, and
knew nobody, and nobody would employ him.
He then endeavored to get up, but he was so very weak that he fell down
again, which excited so much compassion in the merchant that he ordered

the servants to take him in and give him some meat and drink, and let him
help the cook to do any dirty work that she had to set him about. People are
too apt to reproach those who beg with being idle, but give themselves no
concern to put them in the way of getting business to do, or considering
whether they are able to do it, which is not charity.
But we return to Whittington, who could have lived happy in this worthy
family had he not been bumped about by the cross cook, who must be
always roasting and basting, or when the spit was idle employed her hands
upon poor Whittington! At last Miss Alice, his master’s daughter, was
informed of it, and then she took compassion on the poor boy, and made the
servants treat him kindly.
Besides the crossness of the cook, Whittington had another difficulty to
get over before he could be happy. He had, by order of his master, a flock-
bed placed for him in a garret, where there was a number of rats and mice
that often ran over the poor boy’s nose and disturbed him in his sleep. After
some time, however, a gentleman who came to his master’s house gave
Whittington a penny for brushing his shoes. This he put into his pocket,
being determined to lay it out to the best advantage; and the next day,
seeing a woman in the street with a cat under her arm, he ran up to know
the price of it. The woman (as the cat was a good mouser) asked a deal of
money for it, but on Whittington’s telling her he had but a penny in the
world, and that he wanted a cat sadly, she let him have it.
This cat Whittington concealed in the garret, for fear she should be beat
about by his mortal enemy the cook, and here she soon killed or frightened
away the rats and mice, so that the poor boy could now sleep as sound as a
top.
Soon after this the merchant, who had a ship ready to sail, called for his
servants, as his custom was, in order that each of them might venture
something to try their luck; and whatever they sent was to pay neither
freight nor custom, for he thought justly that God Almighty would bless
him the more for his readiness to let the poor partake of his fortune.
All the servants appeared but poor Whittington, who, having neither
money nor goods, could not think of sending anything to try his luck; but
his good friend Miss Alice, thinking his poverty kept him away, ordered
him to be called.

She then offered to lay down something for him, but the merchant told
his daughter that would not do, it must be something of his own. Upon
which poor Whittington said he had nothing but a cat which he bought for a
penny that was given him. “Fetch thy cat, boy,” said the merchant, “and
send her.” Whittington brought poor puss and delivered her to the captain,
with tears in his eyes, for he said he should now be disturbed by the rats and
mice as much as ever. All the company laughed at the adventure but Miss
Alice, who pitied the poor boy, and gave him something to buy another cat.
While puss was beating the billows at sea, poor Whittington was severely
beaten at home by his tyrannical mistress the cook, who used him so
cruelly, and made such game of him for sending his cat to sea, that at last
the poor boy determined to run away from his place, and having packed up
the few things he had, he set out very early in the morning on All-Hallows
day. He traveled as far as Holloway, and there sat down on a stone to
consider what course he should take; but while he was thus ruminating,
Bow bells, of which there were only six, began to ring; and he thought their
sounds addressed him in this manner:
“Turn again, Whittington,
Thrice Lord Mayor of London.”

“Lord Mayor of London!” said he to himself, “what would not one
endure to be Lord Mayor of London, and ride in such a fine coach? Well,
I’ll go back again, and bear all the pummelling and ill-usage of Cicely
rather than miss the opportunity of being Lord Mayor!” So home he went,
and happily got into the house and about his business before Mrs. Cicely
made her appearance.
We must now follow Miss Puss to the coast of Africa. How perilous are
voyages at sea, how uncertain the winds and the waves, and how many
accidents attend a naval life!
The ship that had the cat on board was long beaten at sea, and at last, by
contrary winds, driven on a part of the coast of Barbary which was
inhabited by Moors unknown to the English. These people received our
countrymen with civility, and therefore the captain, in order to trade with
them, showed them the patterns of the goods he had on board, and sent
some of them to the King of the country, who was so well pleased that he
sent for the captain and the factor to come to his palace, which was about a
mile from the sea. Here they were placed, according to the custom of the

country, on rich carpets, flowered with gold and silver; and the King and
Queen being seated at the upper end of the room, dinner was brought in,
which consisted of many dishes; but no sooner were the dishes put down
but an amazing number of rats and mice came from all quarters and
devoured all the meat in an instant.
The factor, in surprise, turned round to the nobles and asked if these
vermin were not offensive. “Oh! yes,” said they, “very offensive; and the
King would give half his treasure to be freed of them, for they not only
destroy his dinner, as you see, but they assault him in his chamber, and even
in bed, so that he is obliged to be watched while he is sleeping, for fear of
them.”
The factor jumped for joy; he remembered poor Whittington and his cat,
and told the King he had a creature on board the ship that would despatch
all these vermin immediately. The King’s heart heaved so high at the joy
which this news gave him that his turban dropped off his head. “Bring this
creature to me,” said he; “vermin are dreadful in a court, and if she will
perform what you say I will load your ship with gold and jewels in
exchange for her.” The factor, who knew his business, took this opportunity
to set forth the merits of Miss Puss. He told his Majesty that it would be
inconvenient to part with her, as, when she was gone, the rats and mice
might destroy the goods in the ship—but to oblige his Majesty he would
fetch her. “Run, run,” said the Queen; “I am impatient to see the dear
creature.”
Away flew the factor, while another dinner was providing, and returned
with the cat just as the rats and mice were devouring that also. He
immediately put down Miss Puss, who killed a great number of them.
The King rejoiced greatly to see his old enemies destroyed by so small a
creature, and the Queen was highly pleased, and desired the cat might be
brought near that she might look at her. Upon which the factor called
“Pussy, pussy, pussy!” and she came to him. He then presented her to the
Queen, who started back, and was afraid to touch a creature who had made
such havoc among the rats and mice; however, when the factor stroked the
cat and called “Pussy, pussy!” the Queen also touched her and cried “Putty,
putty!” for she had not learned English.
He then put her down on the Queen’s lap, where she, purring, played
with her Majesty’s hand, and then sang herself to sleep.

The King, having seen the exploits of Miss Puss, and being informed that
her kittens would stock the whole country, bargained with the captain and
factor for the whole ship’s cargo, and then gave them ten times as much for
the cat as all the rest amounted to. On which, taking leave of their Majesties
and other great personages at court, they sailed with a fair wind for
England, whither we must now attend them.
The morn had scarcely dawned when Mr. Fitzwarren arose to count over
the cash and settle the business for that day. He had just entered the
counting-house, and seated himself at the desk, when somebody came, tap,
tap, at the door. “Who’s there?” said Mr. Fitzwarren. “A friend,” answered
the other. “What friend can come at this unseasonable time?” “A real friend
is never unseasonable,” answered the other. “I come to bring you good
news of your ship Unicorn.” The merchant bustled up in such a hurry that
he forgot his gout; instantly opened the door, and who should be seen
waiting but the captain and factor, with a cabinet of jewels, and a bill of
lading, for which the merchant lifted up his eyes and thanked heaven for
sending him such a prosperous voyage. Then they told him the adventures
of the cat, and showed him the cabinet of jewels which they had brought for
Mr. Whittington. Upon which he cried out with great earnestness, but not in
the most poetical manner:
“Go, send him in, and tell him of his fame,
And call him Mr. Whittington by name.”

It is not our business to animadvert upon these lines; we are not critics,
but historians. It is sufficient for us that they are the words of Mr.
Fitzwarren; and though it is beside our purpose, and perhaps not in our
power to prove him a good poet, we shall soon convince the reader that he
was a good man, which was a much better character; for when some who
were present told him that this treasure was too much for such a poor boy as
Whittington, he said: “God forbid that I should deprive him of a penny; it is
his own, and he shall have it to a farthing.” He then ordered Mr.
Whittington in, who was at this time cleaning the kitchen and would have
excused himself from going into the counting-house, saying the room was
swept and his shoes were dirty and full of hob-nails. The merchant,
however, made him come in, and ordered a chair to be set for him. Upon
which, thinking they intended to make sport of him, as had been too often
the case in the kitchen, he besought his master not to mock a poor simple

fellow, who intended them no harm, but let him go about his business. The
merchant, taking him by the hand, said: “Indeed, Mr. Whittington, I am in
earnest with you, and sent for you to congratulate you on your great
success. Your cat has procured you more money than I am worth in the
world, and may you long enjoy it and be happy!”
At length, being shown the treasure, and convinced by them that all of it
belonged to him, he fell upon his knees and thanked the Almighty for his
providential care of such a poor and miserable creature. He then laid all the
treasure at his master’s feet, who refused to take any part of it, but told him
he heartily rejoiced at his prosperity, and hoped the wealth he had acquired
would be a comfort to him, and would make him happy. He then applied to
his mistress, and to his good friend Miss Alice, who refused to take any part
of the money, but told him she heartily rejoiced at his good success, and
wished him all imaginable felicity. He then gratified the captain, factor, and
the ship’s crew for the care they had taken of his cargo. He likewise
distributed presents to all the servants in the house, not forgetting even his
old enemy the cook, though she little deserved it.
After this Mr. Fitzwarren advised Mr. Whittington to send for the
necessary people and dress himself like a gentleman, and made him the
offer of his house to live in till he could provide himself with a better.
Now it came to pass when Mr. Whittington’s face was washed, his hair
curled, and he dressed in a rich suit of clothes, that he turned out a genteel
young fellow; and, as wealth contributes much to give a man confidence, he
in a little time dropped that sheepish behavior which was principally
occasioned by a depression of spirits, and soon grew a sprightly and good
companion, insomuch that Miss Alice, who had formerly pitied him, now
fell in love with him.
When her father perceived they had this good liking for each other he
proposed a match between them, to which both parties cheerfully
consented, and the Lord Mayor, Court of Aldermen, Sheriffs, the Company
of Stationers, the Royal Academy of Arts, and a number of eminent
merchants attended the ceremony, and were elegantly treated at an
entertainment made for that purpose.
History further relates that they lived very happy, had several children,
and died at a good old age. Mr. Whittington served as Sheriff of London
and was three times Lord Mayor. In the last year of his mayoralty he

entertained King Henry V and his Queen, after his conquest of France, upon
which occasion the King, in consideration of Whittington’s merit, said:
“Never had prince such a subject”; which being told to Whittington at the
table, he replied: “Never had subject such a king.” His Majesty, out of
respect to his good character, conferred the honor of knighthood on him
soon after.
Sir Richard many years before his death constantly fed a great number of
poor citizens, built a church and a college to it, with a yearly allowance for
poor scholars, and near it erected a hospital.
He also built Newgate for criminals, and gave liberally to St.
Bartholomew’s Hospital and other public charities.

THE WONDERFUL SHEEP
Once upon a time—in the days when the fairies lived—there was a king
who had three daughters, who were all young, and clever, and beautiful; but
the youngest of the three, who was called Miranda, was the prettiest and the
most beloved.
The King, her father, gave her more dresses and jewels in a month than
he gave the others in a year; but she was so generous that she shared
everything with her sisters, and they were all as happy and as fond of one
another as they could be.
Now, the King had some quarrelsome neighbors, who, tired of leaving
him in peace, began to make war upon him so fiercely that he feared he
would be altogether beaten if he did not make an effort to defend himself.
So he collected a great army and set off to fight them, leaving the
Princesses with their governess in a castle where news of the war was
brought every day—sometimes that the King had taken a town, or won a
battle, and, at last, that he had altogether overcome his enemies and chased
them out of his kingdom, and was coming back to the castle as quickly as
possible, to see his dear little Miranda whom he loved so much.
The three Princesses put on dresses of satin, which they had had made on
purpose for this great occasion, one green, one blue, and the third white;
their jewels were the same colors. The eldest wore emeralds, the second
turquoises, and the youngest diamonds, and thus adorned they went to meet
the King, singing verses which they had composed about his victories.
When he saw them all so beautiful and so gay he embraced them
tenderly, but gave Miranda more kisses than either of the others.
Presently a splendid banquet was served, and the King and his daughters
sat down to it, and as he always thought that there was some special
meaning in everything, he said to the eldest:
“Tell me why you have chosen a green dress.”
“Sire,” she answered, “having heard of your victories I thought that green
would signify my joy and the hope of your speedy return.”

“That is a very good answer,” said the King; “and you, my daughter,” he
continued, “why did you take a blue dress?”
“Sire,” said the Princess, “to show that we constantly hoped for your
success, and that the sight of you is as welcome to me as the sky with its
most beautiful stars.”
“Why,” said the King, “your wise answers astonish me, and you,
Miranda. What made you dress yourself all in white?
“Because, sire,” she answered, “white suits me better than anything else.”
“What!” said the King angrily, “was that all you thought of, vain child?”
“I thought you would be pleased with me,” said the Princess; “that was
all.”
The King, who loved her, was satisfied with this, and even pretended to
be pleased that she had not told him all her reasons at first.
“And now,” said he, “as I have supped well, and it is not time yet to go to
bed, tell me what you dreamed last night.”
The eldest said she had dreamed that he brought her a dress, and the
precious stones and gold embroidery on it were brighter than the sun.
The dream of the second was that the King had brought her a spinning
wheel and a distaff, that she might spin him some shirts.
But the youngest said: “I dreamed that my second sister was to be
married, and on her wedding-day, you, father, held a golden ewer and said:
‘Come, Miranda, and I will hold the water that you may dip your hands in
it.’”
The King was very angry indeed when he heard this dream, and frowned
horribly; indeed, he made such an ugly face that everyone knew how angry
he was, and he got up and went off to bed in a great hurry; but he could not
forget his daughter’s dream.
“Does the proud girl wish to make me her slave?” he said to himself. “I
am not surprised at her choosing to dress herself in white satin without a
thought of me. She does not think me worthy of her consideration! But I
will soon put an end to her pretensions!”
He rose in a fury, and although it was not yet daylight, he sent for the
Captain of his Bodyguard, and said to him:

“You have heard the Princess Miranda’s dream? I consider that it means
strange things against me, therefore I order you to take her away into the
forest and kill her, and, that I may be sure it is done, you must bring me her
heart and her tongue. If you attempt to deceive me you shall be put to
death!”
The Captain of the Guard was very much astonished when he heard this
barbarous order, but he did not dare to contradict the King for fear of
making him still more angry, or causing him to send someone else, so he
answered that he would fetch the Princess and do as the King had said.
When he went to her room they would hardly let him in, it was so early, but
he said that the King had sent for Miranda, and she got up quickly and came
out; a little black girl called Patypata held up her train, and her pet monkey
and her little dog ran after her. The monkey was called Grabugeon, and the
little dog Tintin.
The Captain of the Guard begged Miranda to come down into the garden
where the King was enjoying the fresh air, and when they got there, he
pretended to search for him, but as he was not to be found, he said:
“No doubt his Majesty has strolled into the forest,” and he opened the
little door that led to it and they went through.
By this time the daylight had begun to appear, and the Princess, looking
at her conductor, saw that he had tears in his eyes and seemed too sad to
speak.
“What is the matter?” she said in the kindest way. “You seem very
sorrowful.”
“Alas! Princess,” he answered, “who would not be sorrowful who was
ordered to do such a terrible thing as I am? The King has commanded me to
kill you here, and carry your heart and your tongue to him, and if I disobey
I shall lose my life.”
The poor Princess was terrified, she grew very pale and began to cry
softly.
Looking up at the Captain of the Guard with her beautiful eyes, she said
gently:
“Will you really have the heart to kill me? I have never done you any
harm, and have always spoken well of you to the King. If I had deserved

my father’s anger I would suffer without a murmur, but, alas! he is unjust to
complain of me, when I have always treated him with love and respect.”
“Fear nothing, Princess,” said the Captain of the Guard. “I would far
rather die myself than hurt you; but even if I am killed you will not be safe:
we must find some way of making the King believe that you are dead.”
“What can we do?” said Miranda; “unless you take him my heart and my
tongue he will never believe you.”
The Princess and the Captain of the Guard were talking so earnestly that
they did not think of Patypata, but she had overheard all they said, and now
came and threw herself at Miranda’s feet.
“Madam,” she said, “I offer you my life; let me be killed, I shall be only
too happy to die for such a kind mistress.”
“Why, Patypata,” cried the Princess, kissing her, “that would never do;
your life is as precious to me as my own, especially after such a proof of
your affection as you have just given me.”
“You are right, Princess,” said Grabugeon, coming forward, “to love such
a faithful slave as Patypata; she is of more use to you than I am, I offer you
my tongue and my heart most willingly, especially as I wish to make a great
name for myself in Goblin Land.”
“No, no, my little Grabugeon,” replied Miranda, “I cannot bear the
thought of taking your life.”
“Such a good little dog as I am,” cried Tintin, “could not think of letting
either of you die for his mistress. If anyone is to die for her it must be me.”
And then began a great dispute between Patypata, Grabugeon, and Tintin,
and they came to high words, until at last Grabugeon, who was quicker than
the others, ran up to the very top of the nearest tree, and let herself fall, head
first, to the ground, and there she lay—quite dead!
The Princess was very sorry, but as Grabugeon was really dead, she
allowed the Captain of the Guard to take her tongue; but, alas! it was such a
little one—not bigger than the Princess’s thumb—that they decided
sorrowfully that it was of no use at all: the King would not have been taken
in by it for a moment!
“Alas! my little monkey,” cried the Princess, “I have lost you, and yet I
am no better off than I was before.”

“The honor of saving your life is to be mine,” interrupted Patypata, and,
before they could prevent her, she had picked up a knife and cut her head
off in an instant.
But when the Captain of the Guard would have taken her tongue it turned
out to be quite black, so that would not have deceived the King either.
“Am I not unlucky?” cried the poor Princess; “I lose everything I love,
and am none the better for it.”
“If you had accepted my offer,” said Tintin, “you would only have had
me to regret, and I should have had all your gratitude.”
Miranda kissed her little dog, crying so bitterly, that at last she could bear
it no longer, and turned away into the forest. When she looked back the
Captain of the Guard was gone, and she was alone, except for Patypata,
Grabugeon, and Tintin, who lay upon the ground. She could not leave the
place until she had buried them in a pretty little mossy grave at the foot of a
tree, and she wrote their names upon the bark of the tree, and how they had
all died to save her life. And then she began to think where she could go for
safety—for this forest was so close to her father’s castle that she might be
seen and recognized by the first passer-by, and, besides that, it was full of
lions and wolves, who would have snapped up a princess just as soon as a
stray chicken. So she began to walk as fast as she could, but the forest was
so large and the sun was so hot that she nearly died of heat and terror and
fatigue; look which way she would there seemed to be no end to the forest,
and she was so frightened that she fancied every minute that she heard the
King running after her to kill her. You may imagine how miserable she was,
and how she cried as she went on, not knowing which path to follow, and
with the thorny bushes scratching her dreadfully and tearing her pretty frock
to pieces.
At last she heard the bleating of a sheep, and said to herself:
“No doubt there are shepherds here with their flocks; they will show me
the way to some village where I can live disguised as a peasant girl. Alas! it
is not always kings and princes who are the happiest people in the world.
Who could have believed that I should ever be obliged to run away and hide
because the King, for no reason at all, wishes to kill me?”
So saying she advanced toward the place where she heard the bleating,
but what was her surprise when, in a lovely little glade quite surrounded by
trees, she saw a large sheep; its wool was as white as snow, and its horns

shone like gold; it had a garland of flowers round its neck, and strings of
great pearls about its legs, and a collar of diamonds; it lay upon a bank of
orange-flowers, under a canopy of cloth of gold which protected it from the
heat of the sun. Nearly a hundred other sheep were scattered about, not
eating the grass, but some drinking coffee, lemonade, or sherbet, others
eating ices, strawberries and cream, or sweetmeats, while others, again,
were playing games. Many of them wore golden collars with jewels,
flowers, and ribbons.
Miranda stopped short in amazement at this unexpected sight, and was
looking in all directions for the shepherd of this surprising flock, when the
beautiful sheep came bounding toward her.
“Approach, lovely Princess,” he cried; “have no fear of such gentle and
peaceable animals as we are.”
“What a marvel!” cried the Princess, starting back a little. “Here is a
sheep that can talk.”
“Your monkey and your dog could talk, madam,” said he; “are you more
astonished at us than at them?”
“A fairy gave them the power to speak,” replied Miranda. “So I was used
to them.”
“Perhaps the same thing has happened to us,” he said, smiling sheepishly.
“But, Princess, what can have led you here?”
“A thousand misfortunes, Sir Sheep,” she answered.
“I am the unhappiest princess in the world, and I am seeking a shelter
against my father’s anger.”
“Come with me, madam,” said the Sheep; “I offer you a hiding-place
which you only will know of, and where you will be mistress of everything
you see.”
“I really cannot follow you,” said Miranda, “for I am too tired to walk
another step.”
The Sheep with the golden horns ordered that his chariot should be
fetched, and a moment after appeared six goats, harnessed to a pumpkin,
which was so big that two people could quite well sit in it, and was all lined
with cushions of velvet and down. The Princess stepped into it, much
amused at such a new kind of carriage, the King of the Sheep took his place
beside her, and the goats ran away with them at full speed, and only stopped

when they reached a cavern, the entrance to which was blocked by a great
stone. This the King touched with his foot, and immediately it fell down,
and he invited the Princess to enter without fear. Now, if she had not been
so alarmed by everything that had happened, nothing could have induced
her to go into this frightful cave, but she was so afraid of what might be
behind her that she would have thrown herself even down a well at this
moment. So, without hesitation, she followed the Sheep, who went before
her, down, down, down, until she thought they must come out at the other
side of the world—indeed, she was not sure that he wasn’t leading her into
Fairyland. At last she saw before her a great plain, quite covered with all
sorts of flowers, the scent of which seemed to her nicer than anything she
had ever smelled before; a broad river of orange-flower water flowed round
it and fountains of wine of every kind ran in all directions and made the
prettiest little cascades and brooks. The plain was covered with the strangest
trees, there were whole avenues where partridges, ready roasted, hung from
every branch, or, if you preferred pheasants, quails, turkeys, or rabbits, you
had only to turn to the right hand or to the left and you were sure to find
them. In places the air was darkened by showers of lobster-patties, white
puddings, sausages, tarts, and all sorts of sweetmeats, or with pieces of gold
and silver, diamonds and pearls. This unusual kind of rain, and the
pleasantness of the whole place, would, no doubt, have attracted numbers of
people to it, if the King of the Sheep had been of a more sociable
disposition, but from all accounts it is evident that he was as grave as a
judge.
As it was quite the nicest time of the year when Miranda arrived in this
delightful land the only palace she saw was a long row of orange trees,
jasmines, honeysuckles, and musk-roses, and their interlacing branches
made the prettiest rooms possible, which were hung with gold and silver
gauze, and had great mirrors and candlesticks, and most beautiful pictures.
The Wonderful Sheep begged that the Princess would consider herself
queen over all that she saw, and assured her that, though for some years he
had been very sad and in great trouble, she had it in her power to make him
forget all his grief.
“You are so kind and generous, noble Sheep,” said the Princess, “that I
cannot thank you enough, but I must confess that all I see here seems to me
so extraordinary that I don’t know what to think of it.”

As she spoke a band of lovely fairies came up and offered her amber
baskets full of fruit, but when she held out her hands to them they glided
away, and she could feel nothing when she tried to touch them.
“Oh!” she cried, “what can they be? Whom am I with?” and she began to
cry.
At this instant the King of the Sheep came back to her, and was so
distracted to find her in tears that he could have torn his wool.
“What is the matter, lovely Princess?” he cried. “Has anyone failed to
treat you with due respect?”
“Oh! no,” said Miranda; “only I am not used to living with sprites and
with sheep that talk, and everything here frightens me. It was very kind of
you to bring me to this place, but I shall be even more grateful to you if you
will take me up into the world again.”
“Do not be afraid,” said the Wonderful Sheep; “I entreat you to have
patience, and listen to the story of my misfortunes. I was once a king, and
my kingdom was the most splendid in the world. My subjects loved me, my
neighbors envied and feared me. I was respected by everyone, and it was
said that no king ever deserved it more.
“I was very fond of hunting, and one day, while chasing a stag, I left my
attendants far behind; suddenly I saw the animal leap into a pool of water,
and I rashly urged my horse to follow it, but before we had gone many steps
I felt an extraordinary heat, instead of the coolness of the water; the pond
dried up, a great gulf opened before me, out of which flames of fire shot up,
and I fell helplessly to the bottom of a precipice.
“I gave myself up for lost, but presently a voice said: ‘Ungrateful Prince,
even this fire is hardly enough to warm your cold heart!’
“‘Who complains of my coldness in this dismal place?’ I cried.
“‘An unhappy being who loves you hopelessly,’ replied the voice, and at
the same moment the flames began to flicker and cease to burn, and I saw a
fairy, whom I had known as long as I could remember, and whose ugliness
had always horrified me. She was leaning upon the arm of a most beautiful
young girl, who wore chains of gold on her wrists and was evidently her
slave.
“‘Why, Ragotte,’ I said, for that was the fairy’s name, ‘what is the
meaning of all this? Is it by your orders that I am here?’

“‘And whose fault is it,’ she answered, ‘that you have never understood
me until now? Must a powerful fairy like myself condescend to explain her
doings to you who are no better than an ant by comparison, though you
think yourself a great king?’
“‘Call me what you like,’ I said impatiently; ‘but what is it that you want
—my crown, or my cities, or my treasures?’
“‘Treasures!’ said the fairy, disdainfully. ‘If I chose I could make any one
of my scullions richer and more powerful than you. I do not want your
treasures, but,’ she added softly, ‘if you will give me your heart—if you will
marry me—I will add twenty kingdoms to the one you have already; you
shall have a hundred castles full of gold and five hundred full of silver, and,
in short, anything you like to ask me for.’
“‘Madam Ragotte,’ said I, ‘when one is at the bottom of a pit where one
has fully expected to be roasted alive, it is impossible to think of asking
such a charming person as you are to marry one! I beg that you will set me
at liberty, and then I shall hope to answer you fittingly.’
“‘Ah!’ said she, ‘if you really loved me you would not care where you
were—a cave, a wood, a fox-hole, a desert, would please you equally well.
Do not think that you can deceive me; you fancy you are going to escape,
but I assure you that you are going to stay here and the first thing I shall
give you to do will be to keep my sheep—they are very good company and
speak quite as well as you do.
“As she spoke she advanced, and led me to this plain where we now
stand, and showed me her flock, but I paid little attention to it or to her.
“To tell the truth, I was so lost in admiration of her beautiful slave that I
forgot everything else, and the cruel Ragotte, perceiving this, turned upon
her so furious and terrible a look that she fell lifeless to the ground.
“At this dreadful sight I drew my sword and rushed at Ragotte, and
should certainly have cut off her head had she not by her magic arts chained
me to the spot on which I stood; all my efforts to move were useless, and at
last, when I threw myself down on the ground in despair, she said to me,
with a scornful smile:
“‘I intend to make you feel my power. It seems that you are a lion at
present, I mean you to be a sheep.’

“So saying, she touched me with her wand, and I became what you see. I
did not lose the power of speech, or of feeling the misery of my present
state.
“‘For five years,’ she said, ‘you shall be a sheep, and lord of this pleasant
land, while I, no longer able to see your face, which I loved so much, shall
be better able to hate you as you deserve to be hated.’
“She disappeared as she finished speaking, and if I had not been too
unhappy to care about anything I should have been glad that she was gone.
“The talking sheep received me as their king, and told me that they, too,
were unfortunate princes who had, in different ways, offended the
revengeful fairy, and had been added to her flock for a certain number of
years; some more, some less. From time to time, indeed, one regains his
own proper form and goes back again to his place in the upper world; but
the other beings whom you saw are the rivals or the enemies of Ragotte,
whom she has imprisoned for a hundred years or so; though even they will
go back at last. The young slave of whom I told you about is one of these; I
have seen her often, and it has been a great pleasure to me. She never
speaks to me, and if I were nearer to her I know I should find her only a
shadow, which would be very annoying. However, I noticed that one of my
companions in misfortune was also very attentive to this little sprite, and I
found out that he had been her lover, whom the cruel Ragotte had taken
away from her long before; since then I have cared for, and thought of,
nothing but how I might regain my freedom. I have often been in the forest;
that is where I have seen you, lovely Princess, sometimes driving your
chariot, which you did with all the grace and skill in the world; sometimes
riding to the chase on so spirited a horse that it seemed as if no one but
yourself could have managed it, and sometimes running races on the plain
with the Princesses of your Court—running so lightly that it was you
always who won the prize. Oh! Princess, I have loved you so long, and yet
how dare I tell you of my love! what hope can there be for an unhappy
sheep like myself?”
Miranda was so surprised and confused by all that she had heard that she
hardly knew what answer to give to the King of the Sheep, but she managed
to make some kind of little speech, which certainly did not forbid him to
hope, and said that she should not be afraid of the shadows now she knew
that they would some day come to life again. “Alas!” she continued, “if my

poor Patypata, my dear Grabugeon, and pretty little Tintin, who all died for
my sake, were equally well off, I should have nothing left to wish for here!”
Prisoner though he was, the King of the Sheep had still some powers and
privileges.
“Go,” said he to his Master of the Horse, “go and seek the shadows of the
little black girl, the monkey, and the dog: they will amuse our Princess.”
And an instant afterward Miranda saw them coming toward her, and their
presence gave her the greatest pleasure, though they did not come near
enough for her to touch them.
The King of the Sheep was so kind and amusing, and loved Miranda so
dearly, that at last she began to love him too. Such a handsome sheep, who
was so polite and considerate, could hardly fail to please, especially if one
knew that he was really a king, and that his strange imprisonment would
soon come to an end. So the Princess’s days passed very gaily while she
waited for the happy time to come. The King of the Sheep, with the help of
all the flock, got up balls, concerts, and hunting parties, and even the
shadows joined in all the fun, and came, making believe to be their own real
selves.
One evening, when the couriers arrived (for the King sent most carefully
for news—and they always brought the very best kinds), it was announced
that the sister of the Princess Miranda was going to be married to a great
Prince, and that nothing could be more splendid than all the preparations for
the wedding.
“Ah!” cried the young Princess, “how unlucky I am to miss the sight of
so many pretty things! Here am I imprisoned under the earth, with no
company but sheep and shadows, while my sister is to be adorned like a
queen and surrounded by all who love and admire her, and everyone but
myself can go to wish her joy!”
“Why do you complain, Princess?” said the King of the Sheep. “Did I say
that you were not to go to the wedding? Set out as soon as you please; only
promise me that you will come back, for I love you too much to be able to
live without you.”
Miranda was very grateful to him, and promised faithfully that nothing in
the world should keep her from coming back. The King caused an escort
suitable to her rank to be got ready for her, and she dressed herself

splendidly, not forgetting anything that could make her more beautiful. Her
chariot was of mother-of-pearl, drawn by six dun-colored griffins just
brought from the other side of the world, and she was attended by a number
of guards in splendid uniforms, who were all at least eight feet high and had
come from far and near to ride in the Princess’s train.
Miranda reached her father’s palace just as the wedding ceremony began,
and everyone, as soon as she came in, was struck with surprise at her beauty
and the splendor of her jewels. She heard exclamations of admiration on all
sides; and the King her father looked at her so attentively that she was
afraid he must recognize her; but he was so sure that she was dead that the
idea never occurred to him.
However, the fear of not getting away made her leave before the marriage
was over. She went out hastily, leaving behind her a little coral casket set
with emeralds. On it was written in diamond letters: “Jewels for the Bride,”
and when they opened it, which they did as soon as it was found, there
seemed to be no end to the pretty things it contained. The King, who had
hoped to join the unknown Princess and find out who she was, was
dreadfully disappointed when she disappeared so suddenly, and gave orders
that if she ever came again the doors were to be shut that she might not get
away so easily. Short as Miranda’s absence had been, it had seemed like a
hundred years to the King of the Sheep. He was waiting for her by a
fountain in the thickest part of the forest, and the ground was strewn with
splendid presents which he had prepared for her to show his joy and
gratitude at her coming back.
As soon as she was in sight he rushed to meet her, leaping and bounding
like a real sheep. He caressed her tenderly, throwing himself at her feet and
kissing her hands, and told her how uneasy he had been in her absence, and
how impatient for her return, with an eloquence which charmed her.
After some time came the news that the King’s second daughter was
going to be married. When Miranda heard it she begged the King of the
Sheep to allow her to go and see the wedding as before. This request made
him feel very sad, as if some misfortune must surely come of it, but his love
for the Princess being stronger than anything else he did not like to refuse
her.
“You wish to leave me, Princess,” said he; “it is my unhappy fate—you
are not to blame. I consent to your going, but, believe me, I can give you no

stronger proof of my love than by so doing.”
The Princess assured him that she would only stay a very short time, as
she had done before, and begged him not to be uneasy, as she would be
quite as much grieved if anything detained her as he could possibly be.
So, with the same escort, she set out, and reached the palace as the
marriage ceremony began. Everybody was delighted to see her; she was so
pretty that they thought she must be some fairy princess, and the Princes
who were there could not take their eyes off her.
The King was more glad than anyone else that she had come again, and
gave orders that the doors should all be shut and bolted that very minute.
When the wedding was all but over the Princess got up quickly, hoping to
slip away unnoticed among the crowd, but, to her great dismay, she found
every door fastened.
She felt more at ease when the King came up to her, and with the greatest
respect begged her not to run away so soon, but at least to honor him by
staying for the splendid feast which was prepared for the Princes and
Princesses. He led her into a magnificent hall, where all the Court was
assembled, and himself taking up the golden bowl full of water, he offered
it to her that she might dip her pretty fingers into it.
At this the Princess could no longer contain herself; throwing herself at
the King’s feet, she cried out:
“My dream has come true after all—you have offered me water to wash
my hands on my sister’s wedding day, and it has not vexed you to do it.”
The King recognized her at once—indeed, he had already thought several
times how much like his poor little Miranda she was.
“Oh! my dear daughter,” he cried, kissing her, “can you ever forget my
cruelty? I ordered you to be put to death because I thought your dream
portended the loss of my crown. And so it did,” he added, “for now your
sisters are both married and have kingdoms of their own—and mine shall
be for you.” So saying he put his crown on the Princess’s head and cried:
“Long live Queen Miranda!”
All the Court cried: “Long live Queen Miranda!” after him, and the
young Queen’s two sisters came running up, and threw their arms round her
neck, and kissed her a thousand times, and then there was such a laughing
and crying, talking and kissing, all at once, and Miranda thanked her father,

and began to ask after everyone—particularly the Captain of the Guard, to
whom she owed so much; but, to her great sorrow, she heard that he was
dead. Presently they sat down to the banquet, and the King asked Miranda
to tell them all that had happened to her since the terrible morning when he
had sent the Captain of the Guard to fetch her. This she did with so much
spirit that all the guests listened with breathless interest. But while she was
thus enjoying herself with the King and her sisters, the King of the Sheep
was waiting impatiently for the time of her return, and when it came and
went, and no Princess appeared, his anxiety became so great that he could
bear it no longer.
“She is not coming back any more,” he cried. “My miserable sheep’s face
displeases her, and without Miranda what is left to me, wretched creature
that I am! Oh! cruel Ragotte; my punishment is complete.”
For a long time he bewailed his sad fate like this, and then, seeing that it
was growing dark, and that still there was no sign of the Princess, he set out
as fast as he could in the direction of the town. When he reached the palace
he asked for Miranda, but by this time everyone had heard the story of her
adventures, and did not want her to go back again to the King of the Sheep,
so they refused sternly to let him see her. In vain he begged and prayed
them to let him in; though his entreaties might have melted hearts of stone
they did not move the guards of the palace, and at last, quite broken-
hearted, he fell dead at their feet.
In the meantime the King, who had not the least idea of the sad thing that
was happening outside the gate of his palace, proposed to Miranda that she
should be driven in her chariot all round the town, which was to be
illuminated with thousands and thousands of torches, placed in windows
and balconies, and in all the grand squares. But what a sight met her eyes at
the very entrance of the palace! There lay her dear, kind sheep, silent and
motionless, upon the pavement!
She threw herself out of the chariot and ran to him, crying bitterly, for
she realized that her broken promise had cost him his life, and for a long,
long time she was so unhappy that they thought she would have died too.
So you see that even a princess is not always happy—especially if she
forgets to keep her word; and the greatest misfortunes often happen to
people just as they think they have obtained their heart’s desires!(1)
(1) Madame d’Aulnoy.

LITTLE THUMB
There was, once upon a time, a man and his wife fagot-makers by trade,
who had several children, all boys. The eldest was but ten years old, and the
youngest only seven.
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 spoke 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 fagot-maker was sitting
with his wife at the fire, he said to her, with his heart ready to burst with
grief:
“Thou seest 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 fagots, we may run away, and leave them, without their
taking any notice.”
“Ah!” cried his wife; “and canst 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 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 had 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 fagot-maker began to
cut wood, and the children to gather up the sticks to make fagots. Their
father and mother, seeing them busy at their work, got away from them
insensibly, and ran away from them all at once, along a by-way through 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 get
home again, for, as he came, he took care to drop all along the way the little
white pebbles he had in his pockets. Then he said 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 go in, but sat themselves down at the door,
listening to what their father and mother were saying.
The very moment the fagot-maker and his wife reached 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 fagot-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. When they had eaten, the
woman said:
“Alas! where are now our poor children? they would make a good feast
of what we have left here; but 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 fagot-maker grew at last quite out of patience, for she repeated it
above twenty times, that they should repent of it, and that 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 fagot-maker was not, perhaps, more vexed than
his wife, but that she teased him, and that he was of the humor of a great
many others, who love wives to speak well, but think those very
importunate who are continually doing so. She was half-drowned in tears,
crying out:
“Alas! where are now my children, my poor children?”
She spoke this so very loud that the children, who were at the gate, 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 carroty, 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 to 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 very early 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, Little Thumb fancied he might
make use of this instead of the pebbles by throwing it in little bits all along
the way they should pass; and so he put the bread in 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 had 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 terribly high wind, which made
them dreadfully afraid. They fancied they heard on every side of them the
howling of wolves coming to eat them up. They scarce dared to speak or
turn their heads. After this, it rained very hard, which wetted 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 quite benumbed.
Little Thumb climbed up to the top of a tree, to see if he could discover
anything; 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
toward 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 an
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 opened it; she asked them what they would have.
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; and perhaps he may take pity
upon 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 had 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 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 spoke these words he got up from the table and went directly to the
bed.
“Ah, ah!” said he; “I see then how thou wouldst cheat me, thou cursed
woman; I know not why I do not eat thee up too, but it is well for thee that
thou art a tough old carrion. Here is good game, which comes very quickly
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, and told his wife they
would be delicate eating when tossed up with good savory 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:
“Why need you do it now? Is it not time enough to-morrow?”
“Hold your prating,” said the Ogre; “they will eat the tenderer.
“But you have so much meat already,” replied his wife, “you have no
occasion; here are 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 gray eyes, quite round,
hooked noses, 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 had already bitten 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 a 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 and 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,
coming to the bed where the little boys lay, and 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 drank too
much last night.”
Then he went to the bed where the girls lay; and, having found the boys’
little bonnets,
“Ah!” said he, “my merry lads, are you there? Let us work as we ought.”
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 all put on their clothes presently and follow him. They stole down
softly into the garden, and got over the wall. They kept running about all
night, and trembled all the while, without knowing which way they went.
The Ogre, when he awoke, said to his wife: “Go upstairs and dress those
young rascals who came here last night.”
The wife was very much surprised at this goodness of her husband, not
dreaming after what manner she should dress them; but, thinking that he
had ordered her to go and put on their clothes, she 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 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 wretches shall pay for it, and that
instantly.”
He threw a pitcher of water upon his wife’s face, and, having brought her
to herself, said:
“Give me quickly 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. 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.
The Ogre, who found himself much tired with his long and fruitless
journey (for these boots of seven leagues greatly fatigued the wearer), had a
great mind to rest himself, and, by chance, went to sit down upon the rock
where the little boys had hid themselves. As it was impossible he could be
more weary than he was, he fell asleep, and, after reposing himself some
time, 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 toward home while the Ogre
was asleep so soundly, and that they should not be in any pain 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 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 the Ogre’s 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. The very moment 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 show 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, though 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 a 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 are very well assured of this, and
the more as having drunk and eaten often at the fagot-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 much in pain 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. 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 easy, bought places for his father and brothers, and, by
that means, settled them very handsomely in the world, and, in the
meantime, made his court to perfection.(1)
(1) Charles Perrault.

THE FORTY THIEVES
In a town in Persia there dwelt two brothers, one named Cassim, the
other Ali Baba. Cassim was married to a rich wife and lived in plenty, while
Ali Baba had to maintain his wife and children by cutting wood in a
neighboring forest and selling it in the town. One day, when Ali Baba was
in the forest, he saw a troop of men on horseback, coming toward him in a
cloud of dust. He was afraid they were robbers, and climbed into a tree for
safety. When they came up to him and dismounted, he counted forty of
them. They unbridled their horses and tied them to trees. The finest man
among them, whom Ali Baba took to be their captain, went a little way
among some bushes, and said: “Open, Sesame!”(1) so plainly that Ali Baba
heard him. A door opened in the rocks, and having made the troop go in, he
followed them, and the door shut again of itself. They stayed some time
inside, and Ali Baba, fearing they might come out and catch him, was
forced to sit patiently in the tree. At last the door opened again, and the
Forty Thieves came out. As the Captain went in last he came out first, and
made them all pass by him; he then closed the door, saying: “Shut,
Sesame!” Every man bridled his horse and mounted, the Captain put
himself at their head, and they returned as they came.
(1) Sesame is a kind of grain.
Then Ali Baba climbed down and went to the door concealed among the
bushes, and said: “Open, Sesame!” and it flew open. Ali Baba, who
expected a dull, dismal place, was greatly surprised to find it large and well
lighted, hollowed by the hand of man in the form of a vault, which received
the light from an opening in the ceiling. He saw rich bales of merchandise
—silk, stuff-brocades, all piled together, and gold and silver in heaps, and
money in leather purses. He went in and the door shut behind him. He did
not look at the silver, but brought out as many bags of gold as he thought
his asses, which were browsing outside, could carry, loaded them with the
bags, and hid it all with fagots. Using the words: “Shut, Sesame!” he closed
the door and went home.
Then he drove his asses into the yard, shut the gates, carried the money-
bags to his wife, and emptied them out before her. He bade her keep the

secret, and he would go and bury the gold. “Let me first measure it,” said
his wife. “I will go borrow a measure of someone, while you dig the hole.”
So she ran to the wife of Cassim and borrowed a measure. Knowing Ali
Baba’s poverty, the sister was curious to find out what sort of grain his wife
wished to measure, and artfully put some suet at the bottom of the measure.
Ali Baba’s wife went home and set the measure on the heap of gold, and
filled it and emptied it often, to her great content. She then carried it back to
her sister, without noticing that a piece of gold was sticking to it, which
Cassim’s wife perceived directly her back was turned. She grew very
curious, and said to Cassim when he came home: “Cassim, your brother is
richer than you. He does not count his money, he measures it.” He begged
her to explain this riddle, which she did by showing him the piece of money
and telling him where she found it. Then Cassim grew so envious that he
could not sleep, and went to his brother in the morning before sunrise. “Ali
Baba,” he said, showing him the gold piece, “you pretend to be poor and yet
you measure gold.” By this Ali Baba perceived that through his wife’s folly
Cassim and his wife knew their secret, so he confessed all and offered
Cassim a share. “That I expect,” said Cassim; “but I must know where to
find the treasure, otherwise I will discover all, and you will lose all.” Ali
Baba, more out of kindness than fear, told him of the cave, and the very
words to use. Cassim left Ali Baba, meaning to be beforehand with him and
get the treasure for himself. He rose early next morning, and set out with
ten mules loaded with great chests. He soon found the place, and the door in
the rock. He said: “Open, Sesame!” and the door opened and shut behind
him. He could have feasted his eyes all day on the treasures, but he now
hastened to gather together as much of it as possible; but when he was
ready to go he could not remember what to say for thinking of his great
riches. Instead of “Sesame,” he said: “Open, Barley!” and the door
remained fast. He named several different sorts of grain, all but the right
one, and the door still stuck fast. He was so frightened at the danger he was
in that he had as much forgotten the word as if he had never heard it.
About noon the robbers returned to their cave, and saw Cassim’s mules
roving about with great chests on their backs. This gave them the alarm;
they drew their sabres, and went to the door, which opened on their
Captain’s saying: “Open, Sesame!” Cassim, who had heard the trampling of
their horses’ feet, resolved to sell his life dearly, so when the door opened
he leaped out and threw the Captain down. In vain, however, for the robbers

with their sabres soon killed him. On entering the cave they saw all the bags
laid ready, and could not imagine how anyone had got in without knowing
their secret. They cut Cassim’s body into four quarters, and nailed them up
inside the cave, in order to frighten anyone who should venture in, and went
away in search of more treasure.
As night drew on Cassim’s wife grew very uneasy, and ran to her brother-
in-law, and told him where her husband had gone. Ali Baba did his best to
comfort her, and set out to the forest in search of Cassim. The first thing he
saw on entering the cave was his dead brother. Full of horror, he put the
body on one of his asses, and bags of gold on the other two, and, covering
all with some fagots, returned home. He drove the two asses laden with
gold into his own yard, and led the other to Cassim’s house. The door was
opened by the slave Morgiana, whom he knew to be both brave and
cunning. Unloading the ass, he said to her: “This is the body of your master,
who has been murdered, but whom we must bury as though he had died in
his bed. I will speak with you again, but now tell your mistress I am come.”
The wife of Cassim, on learning the fate of her husband, broke out into
cries and tears, but Ali Baba offered to take her to live with him and his
wife if she would promise to keep his counsel and leave everything to
Morgiana; whereupon she agreed, and dried her eyes.
Morgiana, meanwhile, sought an apothecary and asked him for some
lozenges. “My poor master,” she said, “can neither eat nor speak, and no
one knows what his distemper is.” She carried home the lozenges and
returned next day weeping, and asked for an essence only given to those
just about to die. Thus, in the evening, no one was surprised to hear the
wretched shrieks and cries of Cassim’s wife and Morgiana, telling everyone
that Cassim was dead. The day after Morgiana went to an old cobbler near
the gates of the town who opened his stall early, put a piece of gold in his
hand, and bade him follow her with his needle and thread. Having bound
his eyes with a handkerchief, she took him to the room where the body lay,
pulled off the bandage, and bade him sew the quarters together, after which
she covered his eyes again and led him home. Then they buried Cassim, and
Morgiana his slave followed him to the grave, weeping and tearing her hair,
while Cassim’s wife stayed at home uttering lamentable cries. Next day she
went to live with Ali Baba, who gave Cassim’s shop to his eldest son.

The Forty Thieves, on their return to the cave, were much astonished to
find Cassim’s body gone and some of their money-bags. “We are certainly
discovered,” said the Captain, “and shall be undone if we cannot find out
who it is that knows our secret. Two men must have known it; we have
killed one, we must now find the other. To this end one of you who is bold
and artful must go into the city dressed as a traveler, and discover whom we
have killed, and whether men talk of the strange manner of his death. If the
messenger fails he must lose his life, lest we be betrayed.” One of the
thieves started up and offered to do this, and after the rest had highly
commended him for his bravery he disguised himself, and happened to
enter the town at daybreak, just by Baba Mustapha’s stall. The thief bade
him good-day, saying: “Honest man, how can you possibly see to stitch at
your age?” “Old as I am,” replied the cobbler, “I have very good eyes, and
will you believe me when I tell you that I sewed a dead body together in a
place where I had less light than I have now.” The robber was overjoyed at
his good fortune, and, giving him a piece of gold, desired to be shown the
house where he stitched up the dead body. At first Mustapha refused, saying
that he had been blindfolded; but when the robber gave him another piece
of gold he began to think he might remember the turnings if blindfolded as
before. This means succeeded; the robber partly led him, and was partly
guided by him, right in front of Cassim’s house, the door of which the
robber marked with a piece of chalk. Then, well pleased, he bade farewell
to Baba Mustapha and returned to the forest. By and by Morgiana, going
out, saw the mark the robber had made, quickly guessed that some mischief
was brewing, and fetching a piece of chalk marked two or three doors on
each side, without saying anything to her master or mistress.
The thief, meantime, told his comrades of his discovery. The Captain
thanked him, and bade him show him the house he had marked. But when
they came to it they saw that five or six of the houses were chalked in the
same manner. The guide was so confounded that he knew not what answer
to make, and when they returned he was at once beheaded for having failed.
Another robber was dispatched, and, having won over Baba Mustapha,
marked the house in red chalk; but Morgiana being again too clever for
them, the second messenger was put to death also. The Captain now
resolved to go himself, but, wiser than the others, he did not mark the
house, but looked at it so closely that he could not fail to remember it. He
returned, and ordered his men to go into the neighboring villages and buy

nineteen mules, and thirty-eight leather jars, all empty except one, which
was full of oil. The Captain put one of his men, fully armed, into each,
rubbing the outside of the jars with oil from the full vessel. Then the
nineteen mules were loaded with thirty-seven robbers in jars, and the jar of
oil, and reached the town by dusk. The Captain stopped his mules in front
of Ali Baba’s house, and said to Ali Baba, who was sitting outside for
coolness: “I have brought some oil from a distance to sell at to-morrow’s
market, but it is now so late that I know not where to pass the night, unless
you will do me the favor to take me in.” Though Ali Baba had seen the
Captain of the robbers in the forest, he did not recognize him in the disguise
of an oil merchant. He bade him welcome, opened his gates for the mules to
enter, and went to Morgiana to bid her prepare a bed and supper for his
guest. He brought the stranger into his hall, and after they had supped went
again to speak to Morgiana in the kitchen, while the Captain went into the
yard under pretense of seeing after his mules, but really to tell his men what
to do. Beginning at the first jar and ending at the last, he said to each man:
“As soon as I throw some stones from the window of the chamber where I
lie, cut the jars open with your knives and come out, and I will be with you
in a trice.” He returned to the house, and Morgiana led him to his chamber.
She then told Abdallah, her fellow-slave, to set on the pot to make some
broth for her master, who had gone to bed. Meanwhile her lamp went out,
and she had no more oil in the house. “Do not be uneasy,” said Abdallah;
“go into the yard and take some out of one of those jars.” Morgiana thanked
him for his advice, took the oil pot, and went into the yard. When she came
to the first jar the robber inside said softly: “Is it time?”
Any other slave but Morgiana, on finding a man in the jar instead of the
oil she wanted, would have screamed and made a noise; but she, knowing
the danger her master was in, bethought herself of a plan, and answered
quietly: “Not yet, but presently.” She went to all the jars, giving the same
answer, till she came to the jar of oil. She now saw that her master, thinking
to entertain an oil merchant, had let thirty-eight robbers into his house. She
filled her oil pot, went back to the kitchen, and, having lit her lamp, went
again to the oil jar and filled a large kettle full of oil. When it boiled she
went and poured enough oil into every jar to stifle and kill the robber inside.
When this brave deed was done she went back to the kitchen, put out the
fire and the lamp, and waited to see what would happen.

In a quarter of an hour the Captain of the robbers awoke, got up, and
opened the window. As all seemed quiet, he threw down some little pebbles
which hit the jars. He listened, and as none of his men seemed to stir he
grew uneasy, and went down into the yard. On going to the first jar and
saying, “Are you asleep?” he smelt the hot boiled oil, and knew at once that
his plot to murder Ali Baba and his household had been discovered. He
found all the gang was dead, and, missing the oil out of the last jar, became
aware of the manner of their death. He then forced the lock of a door
leading into a garden, and climbing over several walls made his escape.
Morgiana heard and saw all this, and, rejoicing at her success, went to bed
and fell asleep.
At daybreak Ali Baba arose, and, seeing the oil jars still there, asked why
the merchant had not gone with his mules. Morgiana bade him look in the
first jar and see if there was any oil. Seeing a man, he started back in terror.
“Have no fear,” said Morgiana; “the man cannot harm you: he is dead.” Ali
Baba, when he had recovered somewhat from his astonishment, asked what
had become of the merchant. “Merchant!” said she, “he is no more a
merchant than I am!” and she told him the whole story, assuring him that it
was a plot of the robbers of the forest, of whom only three were left, and
that the white and red chalk marks had something to do with it. Ali Baba at
once gave Morgiana her freedom, saying that he owed her his life. They
then buried the bodies in Ali Baba’s garden, while the mules were sold in
the market by his slaves.
The Captain returned to his lonely cave, which seemed frightful to him
without his lost companions, and firmly resolved to avenge them by killing
Ali Baba. He dressed himself carefully, and went into the town, where he
took lodgings in an inn. In the course of a great many journeys to the forest
he carried away many rich stuffs and much fine linen, and set up a shop
opposite that of Ali Baba’s son. He called himself Cogia Hassan, and as he
was both civil and well dressed he soon made friends with Ali Baba’s son,
and through him with Ali Baba, whom he was continually asking to sup
with him. Ali Baba, wishing to return his kindness, invited him into his
house and received him smiling, thanking him for his kindness to his son.
When the merchant was about to take his leave Ali Baba stopped him,
saying: “Where are you going, sir, in such haste? Will you not stay and sup
with me?” The merchant refused, saying that he had a reason; and, on Ali
Baba’s asking him what that was, he replied: “It is, sir, that I can eat no

victuals that have any salt in them.” “If that is all,” said Ali Baba, “let me
tell you that there shall be no salt in either the meat or the bread that we eat
to-night.” He went to give this order to Morgiana, who was much surprised.
“Who is this man,” she said, “who eats no salt with his meat?” “He is an
honest man, Morgiana,” returned her master; “therefore do as I bid you.”
But she could not withstand a desire to see this strange man, so she helped
Abdallah to carry up the dishes, and saw in a moment that Cogia Hassan
was the robber Captain, and carried a dagger under his garment. “I am not
surprised,” she said to herself, “that this wicked man, who intends to kill
my master, will eat no salt with him; but I will hinder his plans.”
She sent up the supper by Abdallah, while she made ready for one of the
boldest acts that could be thought on. When the dessert had been served,
Cogia Hassan was left alone with Ali Baba and his son, whom he thought to
make drunk and then to murder them. Morgiana, meanwhile, put on a head-
dress like a dancing-girl’s, and clasped a girdle round her waist, from which
hung a dagger with a silver hilt, and said to Abdallah: “Take your tabor, and
let us go and divert our master and his guest.” Abdallah took his tabor and
played before Morgiana until they came to the door, where Abdallah
stopped playing and Morgiana made a low courtesy. “Come in, Morgiana,”
said Ali Baba, “and let Cogia Hassan see what you can do”; and, turning to
Cogia Hassan, he said: “She’s my slave and my housekeeper.” Cogia
Hassan was by no means pleased, for he feared that his chance of killing Ali
Baba was gone for the present; but he pretended great eagerness to see
Morgiana, and Abdallah began to play and Morgiana to dance. After she
had performed several dances she drew her dagger and made passes with it,
sometimes pointing it at her own breast, sometimes at her master’s, as if it
were part of the dance. Suddenly, out of breath, she snatched the tabor from
Abdallah with her left hand, and, holding the dagger in her right hand, held
out the tabor to her master. Ali Baba and his son put a piece of gold into it,
and Cogia Hassan, seeing that she was coming to him, pulled out his purse
to make her a present, but while he was putting his hand into it Morgiana
plunged the dagger into his heart.
“Unhappy girl!” cried Ali Baba and his son, “what have you done to ruin
us?”
“It was to preserve you, master, not to ruin you,” answered Morgiana.
“See here,” opening the false merchant’s garment and showing the dagger;

“see what an enemy you have entertained! Remember, he would eat no salt
with you, and what more would you have? Look at him! he is both the false
oil merchant and the Captain of the Forty Thieves.”
Ali Baba was so grateful to Morgiana for thus saving his life that he
offered her to his son in marriage, who readily consented, and a few days
after the wedding was celebrated with greatest splendor.
At the end of a year Ali Baba, hearing nothing of the two remaining
robbers, judged they were dead, and set out to the cave. The door opened on
his saying: “Open Sesame!” He went in, and saw that nobody had been
there since the Captain left it. He brought away as much gold as he could
carry, and returned to town. He told his son the secret of the cave, which his
son handed down in his turn, so the children and grandchildren of Ali Baba
were rich to the end of their lives.(1)
(1) Arabian Nights.

HANSEL AND GRETTEL
Once upon a time there dwelt on the outskirts of a large forest a poor
woodcutter with his wife and two children; the boy was called Hansel and
the girl Grettel. He had always little enough to live on, and once, when
there was a great famine in the land, he couldn’t even provide them with
daily bread. One night, as he was tossing about in bed, full of cares and
worry, he sighed and said to his wife: “What’s to become of us? how are we
to support our poor children, now that we have nothing more for
ourselves?” “I’ll tell you what, husband,” answered the woman; “early to-
morrow morning we’ll take the children out into the thickest part of the
wood; there we shall light a fire for them and give them each a piece of
bread; then we’ll go on to our work and leave them alone. They won’t be
able to find their way home, and we shall thus be rid of them.” “No, wife,”
said her husband, “that I won’t do; how could I find it in my heart to leave
my children alone in the wood? The wild beasts would soon come and tear
them to pieces.” “Oh! you fool,” said she, “then we must all four die of
hunger, and you may just as well go and plane the boards for our coffins”;
and she left him no peace till he consented. “But I can’t help feeling sorry
for the poor children,” added the husband.
The children, too, had not been able to sleep for hunger, and had heard
what their step-mother had said to their father. Grettel wept bitterly and
spoke to Hansel: “Now it’s all up with us.” “No, no, Grettel,” said Hansel,
“don’t fret yourself; I’ll be able to find a way to escape, no fear.” And when
the old people had fallen asleep he got up, slipped on his little coat, opened
the back door and stole out. The moon was shining clearly, and the white
pebbles which lay in front of the house glittered like bits of silver. Hansel
bent down and filled his pocket with as many of them as he could cram in.
Then he went back and said to Grettel: “Be comforted, my dear little sister,
and go to sleep: God will not desert us”; and he lay down in bed again.
At daybreak, even before the sun was up, the woman came and woke the
two children: “Get up, you lie-abeds, we’re all going to the forest to fetch
wood.” She gave them each a bit of bread and said: “There’s something for
your luncheon, but don’t you eat it up before, for it’s all you’ll get.” Grettel

took the bread under her apron, as Hansel had the stones in his pocket. Then
they all set out together on the way to the forest. After they had walked for a
little, Hansel stood still and looked back at the house, and this maneuver he
repeated again and again. His father observed him, and said: “Hansel, what
are you gazing at there, and why do you always remain behind? Take care,
and don’t lose your footing.” “Oh! father,” said Hansel, “I am looking back
at my white kitten, which is sitting on the roof, waving me a farewell.” The
woman exclaimed: “What a donkey you are! that isn’t your kitten, that’s the
morning sun shining on the chimney.” But Hansel had not looked back at
his kitten, but had always dropped one of the white pebbles out of his
pocket on to the path.
When they had reached the middle of the forest the father said: “Now,
children, go and fetch a lot of wood, and I’ll light a fire that you may not
feel cold.” Hansel and Grettel heaped up brushwood till they had made a
pile nearly the size of a small hill. The brushwood was set fire to, and when
the flames leaped high the woman said: “Now lie down at the fire, children,
and rest yourselves: we are going into the forest to cut down wood; when
we’ve finished we’ll come back and fetch you.” Hansel and Grettel sat
down beside the fire, and at midday ate their little bits of bread. They heard
the strokes of the axe, so they thought their father was quite near. But it was
no axe they heard, but a bough he had tied on a dead tree, and that was
blown about by the wind. And when they had sat for a long time their eyes
closed with fatigue, and they fell fast asleep. When they awoke at last it was
pitch dark. Grettel began to cry, and said: “How are we ever to get out of
the wood?” But Hansel comforted her. “Wait a bit,” he said, “till the moon
is up, and then we’ll find our way sure enough.” And when the full moon
had risen he took his sister by the hand and followed the pebbles, which
shone like new threepenny bits, and showed them the path. They walked on
through the night, and at daybreak reached their father’s house again. They
knocked at the door, and when the woman opened it she exclaimed: “You
naughty children, what a time you’ve slept in the wood! we thought you
were never going to come back.” But the father rejoiced, for his conscience
had reproached him for leaving his children behind by themselves.
Not long afterward there was again great dearth in the land, and the
children heard their mother address their father thus in bed one night:
“Everything is eaten up once more; we have only half a loaf in the house,
and when that’s done it’s all up with us. The children must be got rid of;

we’ll lead them deeper into the wood this time, so that they won’t be able to
find their way out again. There is no other way of saving ourselves.” The
man’s heart smote him heavily, and he thought: “Surely it would be better
to share the last bite with one’s children!” But his wife wouldn’t listen to his
arguments, and did nothing but scold and reproach him. If a man yields
once he’s done for, and so, because he had given in the first time, he was
forced to do so the second.
But the children were awake, and had heard the conversation. When the
old people were asleep Hansel got up, and wanted to go out and pick up
pebbles again, as he had done the first time; but the woman had barred the
door, and Hansel couldn’t get out. But he consoled his little sister, and said:
“Don’t cry, Grettel, and sleep peacefully, for God is sure to help us.”
At early dawn the woman came and made the children get up. They
received their bit of bread, but it was even smaller than the time before. On
the way to the wood Hansel crumbled it in his pocket, and every few
minutes he stood still and dropped a crumb on the ground. “Hansel, what
are you stopping and looking about you for?” said the father. “I’m looking
back at my little pigeon, which is sitting on the roof waving me a farewell,”
answered Hansel. “Fool!” said the wife; “that isn’t your pigeon, it’s the
morning sun glittering on the chimney.” But Hansel gradually threw all his
crumbs on the path. The woman led the children still deeper into the forest
farther than they had ever been in their lives before. Then a big fire was lit
again, and the mother said: “Just sit down there, children, and if you’re tired
you can sleep a bit; we’re going into the forest to cut down wood, and in the
evening when we’re finished we’ll come back to fetch you.” At midday
Grettel divided her bread with Hansel, for he had strewn his all along their
path. Then they fell asleep, and evening passed away, but nobody came to
the poor children. They didn’t awake till it was pitch dark, and Hansel
comforted his sister, saying: “Only wait, Grettel, till the moon rises, then we
shall see the bread-crumbs I scattered along the path; they will show us the
way back to the house.” When the moon appeared they got up, but they
found no crumbs, for the thousands of birds that fly about the woods and
fields had picked them all up. “Never mind,” said Hansel to Grettel; “you’ll
see we’ll find a way out”; but all the same they did not. They wandered
about the whole night, and the next day, from morning till evening, but they
could not find a path out of the wood. They were very hungry, too, for they
had nothing to eat but a few berries they found growing on the ground. And

at last they were so tired that their legs refused to carry them any longer, so
they lay down under a tree and fell fast asleep.
On the third morning after they had left their father’s house they set
about their wandering again, but only got deeper and deeper into the wood,
and now they felt that if help did not come to them soon they must perish.
At midday they saw a beautiful little snow-white bird sitting on a branch,
which sang so sweetly that they stopped still and listened to it. And when its
song was finished it flapped its wings and flew on in front of them. They
followed it and came to a little house, on the roof of which it perched; and
when they came quite near they saw that the cottage was made of bread and
roofed with cakes, while the window was made of transparent sugar. “Now
we’ll set to,” said Hansel, “and have a regular blow-out.(1) I’ll eat a bit of
the roof, and you, Grettel, can eat some of the window, which you’ll find a
sweet morsel.” Hansel stretched up his hand and broke off a little bit of the
roof to see what it was like, and Grettel went to the casement and began to
nibble at it. Thereupon a shrill voice called out from the room inside:
“Nibble, nibble, little mouse,
Who’s nibbling my house?”

The children answered:
“Tis Heaven’s own child,
The tempest wild,”

and went on eating, without putting themselves about. Hansel, who
thoroughly appreciated the roof, tore down a big bit of it, while Grettel
pushed out a whole round window-pane, and sat down the better to enjoy it.
Suddenly the door opened, and an ancient dame leaning on a staff hobbled
out. Hansel and Grettel were so terrified that they let what they had in their
hands fall. But the old woman shook her head and said: “Oh, ho! you dear
children, who led you here? Just come in and stay with me, no ill shall
befall you.” She took them both by the hand and let them into the house,
and laid a most sumptuous dinner before them—milk and sugared
pancakes, with apples and nuts. After they had finished, two beautiful little
white beds were prepared for them, and when Hansel and Grettel lay down
in them they felt as if they had got into heaven.
(1) He was a vulgar boy!

The old woman had appeared to be most friendly, but she was really an
old witch who had waylaid the children, and had only built the little bread
house in order to lure them in. When anyone came into her power she
killed, cooked, and ate him, and held a regular feast-day for the occasion.
Now witches have red eyes, and cannot see far, but, like beasts, they have a
keen sense of smell, and know when human beings pass by. When Hansel
and Grettel fell into her hands she laughed maliciously, and said jeeringly:
“I’ve got them now; they sha’n’t escape me.” Early in the morning, before
the children were awake, she rose up, and when she saw them both sleeping
so peacefully, with their round rosy cheeks, she muttered to herself: “That’ll
be a dainty bite.” Then she seized Hansel with her bony hand and carried
him into a little stable, and barred the door on him; he might scream as
much as he liked, it did him no good. Then she went to Grettel, shook her
till she awoke, and cried: “Get up, you lazy-bones, fetch water and cook
something for your brother. When he’s fat I’ll eat him up.” Grettel began to
cry bitterly, but it was of no use; she had to do what the wicked witch bade
her.
So the best food was cooked for poor Hansel, but Grettel got nothing but
crab-shells. Every morning the old woman hobbled out to the stable and
cried: “Hansel, put out your finger, that I may feel if you are getting fat.”
But Hansel always stretched out a bone, and the old dame, whose eyes were
dim, couldn’t see it, and thinking always it was Hansel’s finger, wondered
why he fattened so slowly. When four weeks had passed and Hansel still
remained thin, she lost patience and determined to wait no longer. “Hi,
Grettel,” she called to the girl, “be quick and get some water. Hansel may
be fat or thin, I’m going to kill him to-morrow and cook him.” Oh! how the
poor little sister sobbed as she carried the water, and how the tears rolled
down her cheeks! “Kind heaven help us now!” she cried; “if only the wild
beasts in the wood had eaten us, then at least we should have died together.”
“Just hold your peace,” said the old hag; “it won’t help you.”
Early in the morning Grettel had to go out and hang up the kettle full of
water, and light the fire. “First we’ll bake,” said the old dame; “I’ve heated
the oven already and kneaded the dough.” She pushed Grettel out to the
oven, from which fiery flames were already issuing. “Creep in,” said the
witch, “and see if it’s properly heated, so that we can shove in the bread.”
For when she had got Grettel in she meant to close the oven and let the girl
bake, that she might eat her up too. But Grettel perceived her intention, and

said: “I don’t know how I’m to do it; how do I get in?” “You silly goose!”
said the hag, “the opening is big enough; see, I could get in myself,” and
she crawled toward it, and poked her head into the oven. Then Grettel gave
her a shove that sent her right in, shut the iron door, and drew the bolt.
Gracious! how she yelled, it was quite horrible; but Grettel fled, and the
wretched old woman was left to perish miserably.
Grettel flew straight to Hansel, opened the little stable-door, and cried:
“Hansel, we are free; the old witch is dead.” Then Hansel sprang like a bird
out of a cage when the door is opened. How they rejoiced, and fell on each
other’s necks, and jumped for joy, and kissed one another! And as they had
no longer any cause for fear, they went in the old hag’s house, and here they
found, in every corner of the room, boxes with pearls and precious stones.
“These are even better than pebbles,” said Hansel, and crammed his pockets
full of them; and Grettel said: “I too will bring something home,” and she
filled her apron full. “But now,” said Hansel, “let’s go and get well away
from the witch’s wood.” When they had wandered about for some hours
they came to a big lake. “We can’t get over,” said Hansel; “I see no bridge
of any sort or kind.” “Yes, and there’s no ferry-boat either,” answered
Grettel; “but look, there swims a white duck; if I ask her she’ll help us
over,” and she called out:
“Here are two children, mournful very,
Seeing neither bridge nor ferry;
Take us upon your white back,
And row us over, quack, quack!”

The duck swam toward them, and Hansel got on her back and bade his
little sister sit beside him. “No,” answered Grettel, “we should be too heavy
a load for the duck: she shall carry us across separately.” The good bird did
this, and when they were landed safely on the other side, and had gone for a
while, the wood became more and more familiar to them, and at length they
saw their father’s house in the distance. Then they set off to run, and
bounding into the room fell on their father’s neck. The man had not passed
a happy hour since he left them in the wood, but the woman had died.
Grettel shook out her apron so that the pearls and precious stones rolled
about the room, and Hansel threw down one handful after the other out of
his pocket. Thus all their troubles were ended, and they lived happily ever
afterward.

My story is done. See! there runs a little mouse; anyone who catches it
may make himself a large fur cap out of it.(1)
(1) Grimm.

SNOW-WHITE AND ROSE-RED
A poor widow once lived in a little cottage with a garden in front of it, in
which grew two rose trees, one bearing white roses and the other red. She
had two children, who were just like the two rose trees; one was called
Snow-white and the other Rose-red, and they were the sweetest and best
children in the world, always diligent and always cheerful; but Snow-white
was quieter and more gentle than Rose-red. Rose-red loved to run about the
fields and meadows, and to pick flowers and catch butterflies; but Snow-
white sat at home with her mother and helped her in the household, or read
aloud to her when there was no work to do. The two children loved each
other so dearly that they always walked about hand in hand whenever they
went out together, and when Snow-white said, “We will never desert each
other,” Rose-red answered: “No, not as long as we live”; and the mother
added: “Whatever one gets she shall share with the other.” They often
roamed about in the woods gathering berries and no beast offered to hurt
them; on the contrary, they came up to them in the most confiding manner;
the little hare would eat a cabbage leaf from their hands, the deer grazed
beside them, the stag would bound past them merrily, and the birds
remained on the branches and sang to them with all their might.
No evil ever befell them; if they tarried late in the wood and night
overtook them, they lay down together on the moss and slept till morning,
and their mother knew they were quite safe, and never felt anxious about
them. Once, when they had slept all night in the wood and had been
wakened by the morning sun, they perceived a beautiful child in a shining
white robe sitting close to their resting-place. The figure got up, looked at
them kindly, but said nothing, and vanished into the wood. And when they
looked round about them they became aware that they had slept quite close
to a precipice, over which they would certainly have fallen had they gone
on a few steps further in the darkness. And when they told their mother of
their adventure, she said what they had seen must have been the angel that
guards good children.
Snow-white and Rose-red kept their mother’s cottage so beautifully clean
and neat that it was a pleasure to go into it. In summer Rose-red looked

after the house, and every morning before her mother awoke she placed a
bunch of flowers before the bed, from each tree a rose. In winter Snow-
white lit the fire and put on the kettle, which was made of brass, but so
beautifully polished that it shone like gold. In the evening when the
snowflakes fell their mother said: “Snow-white, go and close the shutters,”
and they drew round the fire, while the mother put on her spectacles and
read aloud from a big book and the two girls listened and sat and span.
Beside them on the ground lay a little lamb, and behind them perched a
little white dove with its head tucked under its wings.
One evening as they sat thus cosily together someone knocked at the
door as though he desired admittance. The mother said: “Rose-red, open the
door quickly; it must be some traveler seeking shelter.” Rose-red hastened
to unbar the door, and thought she saw a poor man standing in the darkness
outside; but it was no such thing, only a bear, who poked his thick black
head through the door. Rose-red screamed aloud and sprang back in terror,
the lamb began to bleat, the dove flapped its wings, and Snow-white ran
and hid behind her mother’s bed. But the bear began to speak, and said:
“Don’t be afraid: I won’t hurt you. I am half frozen, and only wish to warm
myself a little.” “My poor bear,” said the mother, “lie down by the fire, only
take care you don’t burn your fur.” Then she called out: “Snow-white and
Rose-red, come out; the bear will do you no harm; he is a good, honest
creature.” So they both came out of their hiding-places, and gradually the
lamb and dove drew near too, and they all forgot their fear. The bear asked
the children to beat the snow a little out of his fur, and they fetched a brush
and scrubbed him till he was dry. Then the beast stretched himself in front
of the fire, and growled quite happily and comfortably. The children soon
grew quite at their ease with him, and led their helpless guest a fearful life.
They tugged his fur with their hands, put their small feet on his back, and
rolled him about here and there, or took a hazel wand and beat him with it;
and if he growled they only laughed. The bear submitted to everything with
the best possible good-nature, only when they went too far he cried: “Oh!
children, spare my life!
“Snow-white and Rose-red,
Don’t beat your lover dead.”

When it was time to retire for the night, and the others went to bed, the
mother said to the bear: “You can lie there on the hearth, in heaven’s name;

it will be shelter for you from the cold and wet.” As soon as day dawned the
children led him out, and he trotted over the snow into the wood. From this
time on the bear came every evening at the same hour, and lay down by the
hearth and let the children play what pranks they liked with him; and they
got so accustomed to him that the door was never shut till their black friend
had made his appearance.
When spring came, and all outside was green, the bear said one morning
to Snow-white: “Now I must go away, and not return again the whole
summer.” “Where are you going to, dear bear?” asked Snow-white. “I must
go to the wood and protect my treasure from the wicked dwarfs. In winter,
when the earth is frozen hard, they are obliged to remain underground, for
they can’t work their way through; but now, when the sun has thawed and
warmed the ground, they break through and come up above to spy the land
and steal what they can; what once falls into their hands and into their caves
is not easily brought back to light.” Snow-white was quite sad over their
friend’s departure, and when she unbarred the door for him, the bear,
stepping out, caught a piece of his fur in the door-knocker, and Snow-white
thought she caught sight of glittering gold beneath it, but she couldn’t be
certain of it; and the bear ran hastily away, and soon disappeared behind the
trees.
A short time after this the mother sent the children into the wood to
collect fagots. They came in their wanderings upon a big tree which lay
felled on the ground, and on the trunk among the long grass they noticed
something jumping up and down, but what it was they couldn’t distinguish.
When they approached nearer they perceived a dwarf with a wizened face
and a beard a yard long. The end of the beard was jammed into a cleft of the
tree, and the little man sprang about like a dog on a chain, and didn’t seem
to know what he was to do. He glared at the girls with his fiery red eyes,
and screamed out: “What are you standing there for? Can’t you come and
help me?” “What were you doing, little man?” asked Rose-red. “You stupid,
inquisitive goose!” replied the dwarf; “I wanted to split the tree, in order to
get little chips of wood for our kitchen fire; those thick logs that serve to
make fires for coarse, greedy people like yourselves quite burn up all the
little food we need. I had successfully driven in the wedge, and all was
going well, but the cursed wood was so slippery that it suddenly sprang out,
and the tree closed up so rapidly that I had no time to take my beautiful
white beard out, so here I am stuck fast, and I can’t get away; and you silly,

smooth-faced, milk-and-water girls just stand and laugh! Ugh! what
wretches you are!”
The children did all in their power, but they couldn’t get the beard out; it
was wedged in far too firmly. “I will run and fetch somebody,” said Rose-
red. “Crazy blockheads!” snapped the dwarf; “what’s the good of calling
anyone else? You’re already two too many for me. Does nothing better
occur to you than that?” “Don’t be so impatient,” said Snow-white, “I’ll see
you get help,” and taking her scissors out of her pocket she cut off the end
of his beard. As soon as the dwarf felt himself free he seized a bag full of
gold which was hidden among the roots of the tree, lifted it up, and
muttered aloud: “Curse these rude wretches, cutting off a piece of my
splendid beard!” With these words he swung the bag over his back, and
disappeared without as much as looking at the children again.
Shortly after this Snow-white and Rose-red went out to get a dish of fish.
As they approached the stream they saw something which looked like an
enormous grasshopper springing toward the water as if it were going to
jump in. They ran forward and recognized their old friend the dwarf.
“Where are you going to?” asked Rose-red; “you’re surely not going to
jump into the water?” “I’m not such a fool,” screamed the dwarf. “Don’t
you see that cursed fish is trying to drag me in?” The little man had been
sitting on the bank fishing, when unfortunately the wind had entangled his
beard in the line; and when immediately afterward a big fish bit, the feeble
little creature had no strength to pull it out; the fish had the upper fin, and
dragged the dwarf toward him. He clung on with all his might to every rush
and blade of grass, but it didn’t help him much; he had to follow every
movement of the fish, and was in great danger of being drawn into the
water. The girls came up just at the right moment, held him firm, and did all
they could to disentangle his beard from the line; but in vain, beard and line
were in a hopeless muddle. Nothing remained but to produce the scissors
and cut the beard, by which a small part of it was sacrificed.
When the dwarf perceived what they were about he yelled to them: “Do
you call that manners, you toad-stools! to disfigure a fellow’s face? It
wasn’t enough that you shortened my beard before, but you must now needs
cut off the best bit of it. I can’t appear like this before my own people. I
wish you’d been in Jericho first.” Then he fetched a sack of pearls that lay

among the rushes, and without saying another word he dragged it away and
disappeared behind a stone.
It happened that soon after this the mother sent the two girls to the town
to buy needles, thread, laces, and ribbons. Their road led over a heath where
huge boulders of rock lay scattered here and there. While trudging along
they saw a big bird hovering in the air, circling slowly above them, but
always descending lower, till at last it settled on a rock not far from them.
Immediately afterward they heard a sharp, piercing cry. They ran forward,
and saw with horror that the eagle had pounced on their old friend the
dwarf, and was about to carry him off. The tender-hearted children seized
hold of the little man, and struggled so long with the bird that at last he let
go his prey. When the dwarf had recovered from the first shock he screamed
in his screeching voice: “Couldn’t you have treated me more carefully? You
have torn my thin little coat all to shreds, useless, awkward hussies that you
are!” Then he took a bag of precious stones and vanished under the rocks
into his cave. The girls were accustomed to his ingratitude, and went on
their way and did their business in town. On their way home, as they were
again passing the heath, they surprised the dwarf pouring out his precious
stones on an open space, for he had thought no one would pass by at so late
an hour. The evening sun shone on the glittering stones, and they glanced
and gleamed so beautifully that the children stood still and gazed on them.
“What are you standing there gaping for?” screamed the dwarf, and his
ashen-gray face became scarlet with rage. He was about to go off with these
angry words when a sudden growl was heard, and a black bear trotted out of
the wood. The dwarf jumped up in great fright, but he hadn’t time to reach
his place of retreat, for the bear was already close to him. Then he cried in
terror: “Dear Mr. Bear, spare me! I’ll give you all my treasure. Look at
those beautiful precious stones lying there. Spare my life! what pleasure
would you get from a poor feeble little fellow like me? You won’t feel me
between your teeth. There, lay hold of these two wicked girls, they will be a
tender morsel for you, as fat as young quails; eat them up, for heaven’s
sake.” But the bear, paying no attention to his words, gave the evil little
creature one blow with his paw, and he never moved again.
The girls had run away, but the bear called after them: “Snow-white and
Rose-red, don’t be afraid; wait, and I’ll come with you.” Then they
recognized his voice and stood still, and when the bear was quite close to
them his skin suddenly fell off, and a beautiful man stood beside them, all