A NEW FAIRY TALE.
Once upon a time, on a far island of the sea, there lived a King with
seven sons. The three eldest were tall and dark, with eyes like eagles,
and hair like a crow's wing for blackness, and no princes in all the
land were so strong and fearless as they. The three youngest sons were
tall and fair, with eyes as blue as cornflowers, and locks like the
summer sun for brightness, and no princes in all the land were so brave
and beautiful as they.
But the middle son was little and lorn; he was neither dark nor fair; he
was neither handsome nor strong. So when the King saw that he never won
in the tournaments nor led in the boar hunts, nor sang to his lute among
the ladies of the court, he drew his royal robes around him, and
henceforth frowned on Ethelried.
To each of his other sons he gave a portion of his kingdom, armor and
plumes, a prancing charger, and a trusty sword; but to Ethelried he gave
nothing. When the poor Prince saw his brothers riding out into the world
to win their fortunes, he fain would have followed. Throwing himself on
his knees before the King, he cried, "Oh, royal Sire, bestow upon me
also a sword and a steed, that I may up and away to follow my brethren."
But the King laughed him to scorn. "Thou a sword!" he quoth. "Thou who
hast never done a deed of valor in all thy life! In sooth thou shalt
have one, but it shall be one befitting thy maiden size and courage, if
so small a weapon can be found in all my kingdom!"
Now just at that moment it happened that the Court Tailor came into the
room to measure the King for a new mantle of ermine. Forthwith the
grinning Jester began shrieking with laughter, so that the bells upon
his motley cap were all set a-jangling.
"What now, Fool?" demanded the King.
"I did but laugh to think the sword of Ethelried had been so quickly
found," responded the Jester, and he pointed to the scissors hanging
from the Tailor's girdle.
"By my troth," exclaimed the King, "it shall be even as thou sayest!"
and he commanded that the scissors be taken from the Tailor, and buckled
to the belt of Ethelried.
"Not until thou hast proved thyself a prince with these, shalt thou come
into thy kingdom," he swore with a mighty oath. "Until that far day, now
get thee gone!"
So Ethelried left the palace, and wandered away over mountain and moor
with a heavy heart. No one knew that he was a prince; no fireside
offered him welcome; no lips gave him a friendly greeting. The scissors
hung useless and rusting by his side.
One night as he lay in a deep forest, too unhappy to sleep, he heard a
noise near at hand in the bushes. By the light of the moon he saw that a
ferocious wild beast had been caught in a hunter's snare, and was
struggling to free itself from the heavy net. His first thought was to
slay the animal, for he had had no meat for many days. Then he bethought
himself that he had no weapon large enough.
While he stood gazing at the struggling beast, it turned to him with
such a beseeching look in its wild eyes, that he was moved to pity.
"Thou shalt have thy liberty," he cried, "even though thou shouldst rend
me in pieces the moment thou art free. Better dead than this craven life
to which my father hath doomed me!"
So he set to work with the little scissors to cut the great ropes of the
net in twain. At first each strand seemed as hard as steel, and the
blades of the scissors were so rusty and dull that he could scarcely
move them. Great beads of sweat stood out on his brow as he bent himself
to the task.
Presently, as he worked, the blades began to grow sharper and sharper,
and brighter and brighter, and longer and longer. By the time that the
last rope was cut the scissors were as sharp as a broadsword, and half
as long as his body.
At last he raised the net to let the beast go free. Then he sank on his
knees in astonishment. It had suddenly disappeared, and in its place
stood a beautiful Fairy with filmy wings, which shone like rainbows in
the moonlight.
"Prince Ethelried," she said in a voice that was like a crystal bell's
for sweetness, "dost thou not know that thou art in the domain of a
frightful Ogre? It was he who changed me into the form of a wild beast,
and set the snare to capture me. But for thy fearlessness and faithful
perseverance in the task which thou didst in pity undertake, I must have
perished at dawn."
At this moment there was a distant rumbling as of thunder. "'Tis the
Ogre!" cried the Fairy. "We must hasten." Seizing the scissors that lay
on the ground where Ethelried had dropped them, she opened and shut them
several times, exclaiming:
"Scissors, grow a giant's height
And save us from the Ogre's might!"
Immediately they grew to an enormous size, and, with blades extended,
shot through the tangled thicket ahead of them, cutting down everything
that stood in their way,--bushes, stumps, trees, vines; nothing could
stand before the fierce onslaught of those mighty blades.
The Fairy darted down the path thus opened up, and Ethelried followed as
fast as he could, for the horrible roaring was rapidly coming nearer. At
last they reached a wide chasm that bounded the Ogre's domain. Once
across that, they would be out of his power, but it seemed impossible to
cross. Again the Fairy touched the scissors, saying:
"Giant scissors, bridge the path,
And save us from the Ogre's wrath."
Again the scissors grew longer and longer, until they lay across the
chasm like a shining bridge. Ethelried hurried across after the Fairy,
trembling and dizzy, for the Ogre was now almost upon them. As soon as
they were safe on the other side, the Fairy blew upon the scissors, and,
presto, they became shorter and shorter until they were only the length
of an ordinary sword.
"Here," she said, giving them into his hands; "because thou wast
persevering and fearless in setting me free, these shall win for thee
thy heart's desire. But remember that thou canst not keep them sharp and
shining, unless they are used at least once each day in some
unselfish service."
Before he could thank her she had vanished, and he was left in the
forest alone. He could see the Ogre standing powerless to hurt him, on
the other side of the chasm, and gnashing his teeth, each one of which
was as big as a millston.
The sight was so terrible, that he turned on his heel, and fled away as
fast as his feet could carry him. By the time he reached the edge of the
forest he was very tired, and ready to faint from hunger. His heart's
greatest desire being for food, he wondered if the scissors could obtain
it for him as the Fairy had promised. He had spent his last coin and
knew not where to go for another.
Just then he spied a tree, hanging full of great, yellow apples. By
standing on tiptoe he could barely reach the lowest one with his
scissors. He cut off an apple, and was about to take a bite, when an
old Witch sprang out of a hollow tree across the road.
"So you are the thief who has been stealing my gold apples all this last
fortnight!" she exclaimed. "Well, you shall never steal again, that I
promise you. Ho, Frog-eye Fearsome, seize on him and drag him into your
darkest dungeon!"
At that, a hideous-looking fellow, with eyes like a frog's, green hair,
and horrid clammy webbed fingers, clutched him before he could turn to
defend himself. He was thrust into the dungeon and left there all day.
At sunset, Frog-eye Fearsome opened the door to slide in a crust and a
cup of water, saying in a croaking voice, "You shall be hanged in the
morning, hanged by the neck until you are quite dead." Then he stopped
to run his webbed fingers through his damp green hair, and grin at the
poor captive Prince, as if he enjoyed his suffering. But the next
morning no one came to take him to the gallows, and he sat all day in
total darkness. At sunset Frog-eye Fearsome opened the door again to
thrust in another crust and some water and say, "In the morning you
shall be drowned; drowned in the Witch's mill-pond with a great stone
tied to your heels."
Again the croaking creature stood and gloated over his victim, then left
him to the silence of another long day in the dungeon. The third day he
opened the door and hopped in, rubbing his webbed hands together with
fiendish pleasure, saying, "You are to have no food and drink to-night,
for the Witch has thought of a far more horrible punishment for you. In
the morning I shall surely come again, and then--beware!"
Now as he stopped to grin once more at the poor Prince, a Fly darted in,
and, blinded by the darkness of the dungeon, flew straight into a
spider's web, above the head of Ethelried.
"Poor creature!" thought Ethelried. "Thou shalt not be left a prisoner
in this dismal spot while I have the power to help thee." He lifted the
scissors and with one stroke destroyed the web, and gave the Fly
its freedom.
As soon as the dungeon had ceased to echo with the noise that Frog-eye
Fearsome made in banging shut the heavy door, Ethelried heard a low
buzzing near his ear. It was the Fly, which had alighted on
his shoulder.
"Let an insect in its gratitude teach you this," buzzed the Fly.
"To-morrow, if you remain here, you must certainly meet your doom, for
the Witch never keeps a prisoner past the third night. But escape is
possible. Your prison door is of iron, but the shutter which bars the
window is only of wood. Cut your way out at midnight, and I will have a
friend in waiting to guide you to a place of safety. A faint glimmer of
light on the opposite wall shows me the keyhole. I shall make my escape
thereat and go to repay thy unselfish service to me. But know that the
scissors move only when bidden in rhyme. Farewell."
The Prince spent all the following time until midnight, trying to think
of a suitable verse to say to the scissors. The art of rhyming had been
neglected in his early education, and it was not until the first
cock-crowing began that he succeeded in making this one:
"Giant scissors, serve me well,
And save me from the Witch's spell!"
As he uttered the words the scissors leaped out of his hand, and began
to cut through the wooden shutters as easily as through a cheese. In a
very short time the Prince had crawled through the opening. There he
stood, outside the dungeon, but it was a dark night and he knew not
which way to turn.
He could hear Frog-eye Fearsome snoring like a tempest up in the
watch-tower, and the old Witch was talking in her sleep in seven
languages. While he stood looking around him in bewilderment, a Firefly
alighted on his arm. Flashing its little lantern in the Prince's face,
it cried, "This way! My friend, the Fly, sent me to guide you to a place
of safety. Follow me and trust entirely to my guidance."
The Prince flung his mantle over his shoulder, and followed on with all
possible speed. They stopped first in the Witch's orchard, and the
Firefly held its lantern up while the Prince filled his pockets with the
fruit. The apples were gold with emerald leaves, and the cherries were
rubies, and the grapes were great bunches of amethyst. When the Prince
had filled his pockets he had enough wealth to provide for all his wants
for at least a twelvemonth.
The Firefly led him on until they came to a town where was a fine inn.
There he left him, and flew off to report the Prince's safety to the Fly
and receive the promised reward.
Here Ethelried stayed for many weeks, living like a king on the money
that the fruit jewels brought him. All this time the scissors were
becoming little and rusty, because he never once used them, as the Fairy
bade him, in unselfish service for others. But one day he bethought
himself of her command, and started out to seek some opportunity to
help somebody.
Soon he came to a tiny hut where a sick man lay moaning, while his wife
and children wept beside him. "What is to become of me?" cried the poor
peasant. "My grain must fall and rot in the field from overripeness
because I have not the strength to rise and harvest it; then indeed must
we all starve."
Ethelried heard him, and that night, when the moon rose, he stole into
the field to cut it down with the giant scissors. They were so rusty
from long idleness that he could scarcely move them. He tried to think
of some rhyme with which to command them; but it had been so long since
he had done any thinking, except for his own selfish pleasure, that his
brain refused to work.
However, he toiled on all night, slowly cutting down the grain stalk by
stalk. Towards morning the scissors became brighter and sharper, until
they finally began to open and shut of their own accord. The whole field
was cut by sunrise. Now the peasant's wife had risen very early to go
down to the spring and dip up some cool water for her husband to drink.
She came upon Ethelried as he was cutting the last row of the grain, and
fell on her knees to thank him. From that day the peasant and all his
family were firm friends of Ethelried's, and would have gone through
fire and water to serve him.
After that he had many adventures, and he was very busy, for he never
again forgot what the Fairy had said, that only unselfish service each
day could keep the scissors sharp and shining. When the shepherd lost a
little lamb one day on the mountain, it was Ethelried who found it
caught by the fleece in a tangle of cruel thorns. When he had cut it
loose and carried it home, the shepherd also became his firm friend, and
would have gone through fire and water to serve him.
The grandame whom he supplied with fagots, the merchant whom he rescued
from robbers, the King's councillor to whom he gave aid, all became his
friends. Up and down the land, to beggar or lord, homeless wanderer or
high-born dame, he gladly gave unselfish service all unsought, and such
as he helped straightway became his friends.
Day by day the scissors grew sharper and sharper and ever more quick to
spring forward at his bidding.
One day a herald dashed down the highway, shouting through his silver
trumpet that a beautiful Princess had been carried away by the Ogre. She
was the only child of the King of this country, and the knights and
nobles of all other realms and all the royal potentates were prayed to
come to her rescue. To him who could bring her back to her father's
castle should be given the throne and kingdom, as well as the
Princess herself.
So from far and near, indeed from almost every country under the sun,
came knights and princes to fight the Ogre. One by one their brave heads
were cut off and stuck on poles along the moat that surrounded
the castle.
Still the beautiful Princess languished in her prison. Every night at
sunset she was taken up to the roof for a glimpse of the sky, and told
to bid good-by to the sun, for the next morning would surely be her
last. Then she would wring her lily-white hands and wave a sad farewell
to her home, lying far to the westward. When the knights saw this they
would rush down to the chasm and sound a challenge to the Ogre.
They were brave men, and they would not have feared to meet the fiercest
wild beasts, but many shrunk back when the Ogre came rushing out. They
dared not meet in single combat, this monster with the gnashing teeth,
each one of which was as big as a millston.
Among those who drew back were Ethelried's brothers (the three that were
dark and the three that were fair). They would not acknowledge their
fear. They said, "We are only waiting to lay some wily plan to
capture the Ogre."
[Illustration: THE PRINCESS.]
After several days Ethelried reached the place on foot. "See him,"
laughed one of the brothers that was dark to one that was fair. "He
comes afoot; no prancing steed, no waving plumes, no trusty sword;
little and lorn, he is not fit to be called a brother to princes."
But Ethelried heeded not their taunts. He dashed across the drawbridge,
and, opening his scissors, cried:
"Giant scissors, rise in power!
Grant me my heart's desire this hour!"
The crowds on the other side held their breath as the Ogre rushed out,
brandishing a club as big as a church steeple. Then Whack! Bang! The
blows of the scissors, warding off the blows of the mighty club, could
be heard for miles around.
At last Ethelried became so exhausted that he could scarcely raise his
hand, and it was plain to be seen that the scissors could not do battle
much longer. By this time a great many people, attracted by the terrific
noise, had come running up to the moat. The news had spread far and
wide that Ethelried was in danger; so every one whom he had ever served
dropped whatever he was doing, and ran to the scene of the battle. The
peasant was there, and the shepherd, and the lords and beggars and
high-born dames, all those whom Ethelried had ever befriended.
As they saw that the poor Prince was about to be vanquished, they all
began a great lamentation, and cried out bitterly.
"He saved my harvest," cried one. "He found my lamb," cried another. "He
showed me a greater kindness still," shouted a third. And so they went
on, each telling of some unselfish service that the Prince had rendered
him. Their voices all joined at last into such a roar of gratitude that
the scissors were given fresh strength on account of it. They grew
longer and longer, and stronger and stronger, until with one great swoop
they sprang forward and cut the ugly old Ogre's head from his shoulders.
Every cap was thrown up, and such cheering rent the air as has never
been heard since. They did not know his name, they did not know that he
was Prince Ethelried, but they knew by his valor that there was royal
blood in his veins. So they all cried out long and loud: "_Long live the
Prince! Prince Ciseaux!_"
Then the King stepped down from his throne and took off his crown to
give to the conqueror, but Ethelried put it aside.
"Nay," he said. "The only kingdom that I crave is the kingdom of a
loving heart and a happy fireside. Keep all but the Princess."
So the Ogre was killed, and the Prince came into his kingdom that was
his heart's desire. He married the Princess, and there was feasting and
merrymaking for seventy days and seventy nights, and they all lived
happily ever after.
When the feasting was over, and the guests had all gone to their homes,
the Prince pulled down the house of the Ogre and built a new one. On
every gable he fastened a pair of shining scissors to remind himself
that only through unselfish service to others comes the happiness that
is highest and best.
Over the great entrance gate he hung the ones that had served him so
valiantly, saying, "Only those who belong to the kingdom of loving
hearts and happy homes can ever enter here."
One day the old King, with the brothers of Ethelried (the three that
were dark and the three that were fair), came riding up to the portal.
They thought to share in Ethelried's fame and splendor. But the scissors
leaped from their place and snapped so angrily in their faces that they
turned their horses and fled.
Then the scissors sprang back to their place again to guard the portal
of Ethelried, and, to this day, only those who belong to the kingdom of
loving hearts may enter the Gate of the Giant Scissors.