[Illustration: _Frontis. See page 159._
THE YOUNG LORD SAW A CHARMING GIRL SEATED AMONG THE BRANCHES.]
FRENCH
FAIRY TALES
TRANSLATED BY
M. CARY
ILLUSTRATED BY
E. BOYD SMITH
NEW YORK
THOMAS Y. CROWELL COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
COPYRIGHT, 1887 AND 1903, BY
THOMAS Y. CROWELL AND COMPANY
INTRODUCTORY NOTE
The young readers into whose hands this book may come, will care little
for a preface which only keeps them from the entertainment which they
have learned unfailingly to expect from such stories. But their elders
have rights which the purveyors of folk-stories are bound to respect;
for these popular tales, or old wives’ fables, while losing none of
their popularity in the nursery, have descended thence, and found
a place also in the parlor and the study. They are like the rough
little box which the kind fairy has given to the little brother, and
at which his elders at first look with disdain, until, when it has
been opened, and fold after fold of rich stuff has tumbled out of it,
they value it highly, for all its outward roughness, and even would
despoil the youngest of his magic prize. The fairy stories, which had
hitherto been only food for childish entertainment, became, in the
hands of the brothers Grimm and the philologians and literary students
who succeeded them, the foundation of a science rich in conclusions
respecting portions of human history anterior to or unrepresented in
more artificial literary memorials.
It is not possible, in an introductory page or two, to say anything
of all that the study of such stories and of their transmission has
added to the sum of modern learning, nor of the light they throw on
peasant character; but it is only justice to readers who approach
these studies from this point of view, with a more or less scientific
interest in studies of folk-lore, to state the sources whence the tales
in this collection have been translated, and to attest the fidelity of
the translation. Of these stories,--derived from the French provinces
or, in one or two cases, colonies,--the first part, extending to page
192, have been selected and translated from the pages of the admirable
French folk-lore journal, “Mélusine,” of which the first volume
appeared in 1878, the second in 1884 and 1885, the third in 1886 and
1887; the remaining stories have been selected and translated from
Paul Sébillot’s “Contes des Provinces de la France” (Paris, 1884).
Scrupulous care has been taken to preserve a note of the sources of the
stories.
Naturally some slight verbal changes have here and there been
necessary; but these have been few in number. In all other passages,
a scrupulous fidelity to the original has been aimed at, and has, I
believe, been attained.
J. F. JAMESON.
Contents
PAGE
THE LEGEND OF THE LAKE OF ISSARLÈS 1
THE FAIRIES AND THE TWO HUNCHBACKS 6
THE SKILFUL THIEF 8
THE KING’S THREE SONS 23
THE HARE, THE BEAR, AND THE FOX 33
PAPA TIGER AND PAPA SHEEP 52
JOHN BIT-OF-A-MAN 60
LONG TIME 65
SKILFUL JOHN 69
THE TAILOR AND THE HURRICANE 72
THE BAKER’S THREE DAUGHTERS 85
YOU MUST NOT WORK ON SUNDAY 102
DESTINY 106
THE LITTLE ANT THAT WAS GOING TO JERUSALEM,
AND THE SNOW 110
THE MOST POWERFUL HUSBAND IN THE WORLD 114
THE NINE BROTHERS, WHO WERE CHANGED TO SHEEP,
AND THEIR SISTER 117
THE KING AND HIS THREE SONS 127
FANCH SCOUARNEC 130
THE ROEBUCK HUNT 148
PIERRE AND HELENE 153
THE THREE EGGS 166
THE THREE BROTHERS 176
THE COCK’S WIFE 189
THE CASTLE HUNG IN THE AIR 193
THE TWO SOLDIERS 204
THE THREE BROTHERS AND THE GIANT 210
THE FAIRY AND THE DAUGHTER OF THE EARTH 220
SISTER AND HALF-SISTER 232
THE FAIRIES’ SHIP 237
THE SHEPHERD WHO WON THE KING’S DAUGHTER BY A
SINGLE WORD 246
THE ENCHANTED RING 251
THE SIREN OF LA FRESNAYE 259
THE LITTLE HUNCHBACK 267
THE PRINCESS OF TRONKOLAINE 276
French Fairy Tales
THE LEGEND OF THE LAKE OF ISSARLÈS
Northwest of Ardèche, on the limits of Haute-Loire and Lozère, in the
commune of Issarlès, may be seen one of the largest lakes formed by the
volcanic craters of the Northern Cévennes. The origin of the lake is
thus told in a legend heard from an old woman of Sainte Eulalie, the
next commune to Issarlès.
There was, in old times, not far from where I live, a large parish with
houses scattered far apart in the rural portions, and containing only
one town, named Issarlès. One day a poor man came to this parish to
ask for alms. He began in the country. At the first house to which he
came, he cried, “Give me something, for I am hungry.” “Oh! my friend,
I have nothing for you,” answered the woman, pityingly. “Have you not
even a few potatoes in your pot?” said he. “Yes,” replied the woman,
“there are two, if you want them.” The poor man took one and departed.
Then he walked on, and came to another house. “Give me something, for
the love of God,” he cried. The woman rose, and said, “My friend, we
have no bread, but the dough is in the tray all ready; the oven is
almost warm enough; we shall soon bake it, and then we will give you
some sweet bread; sit down and wait.” The poor man said, “Your bread
is baked.” The woman said to her husband, “My husband, the poor man
says that our bread, which is in the tray, is already baked. How can
that be? We have not yet put it in the oven.” The husband looked into
the tray and saw the bread already baked, and near the large loaves he
saw a small sweet loaf. “What you have declared is really so,” said he
to the poor man; “the bread is baked without having been in the oven.
It is God’s doing. Sit down at our table, and eat with us.” The poor
man refused. “Then take,” said the husband, “the loaf that my wife
wished to prepare for you, and which is already baked as well as the
large loaves.” The poor man took the loaf, and before leaving, said to
the husband, “In a little while you will hear a great noise; don’t be
frightened.”
[Illustration: THE BOTTOM OF THE LAKES OF ISSARLÉS.]
At some distance from the house, the poor man met two little children
playing by the roadside. “What are you doing, my children?” “We are
playing.” “Are you hungry?” “No.” “If you want some sweet bread, I
will give you some.” “Hungry or not, we can eat it very well,” said
the children. The poor man divided his sweet loaf, and gave half of it
to each of the children, who ran off with it to their mother. “Mamma,
a poor man gave us each half a sweet loaf,” they cried. Their mother
scolded them. “Never take bread from beggars,” she said; “it is not
clean; I forbid your eating it.” “Mamma, it is very good; it is better
than our bread.” “I forbid your eating it; I do not know the person who
gave it to you,” and saying this, she took the pieces of bread from the
children’s hands and threw them into the chicken coop.
A few moments after, the poor man appeared at the door of this woman’s
house, which was at the entrance of the town. The children pointed him
out to their mother, who said, “You begging! you, who can give bread
to the children you find on the road! You had better keep your bread;
it is not fit food for my children. For me, I have nothing to give to
those who themselves can give.” The poor man went away; he entered the
town, begging from house to house, and everywhere was driven away. He
was about to leave the town, when in the suburbs, he saw two little
houses, and thought he would make one more attempt, by applying there.
A woman came out of the first house to which he went, and said, “I have
no bread, I have only leaven; do you want some? I will give you some.”
“I cannot eat leaven,” replied the poor man. Now, this woman told a
lie, for she had bread, but did not wish to give him any.
The poor man went a few steps further on, and soon came to the second
house. A woman was seated by the wall, milking a goat. “I am very
thirsty,” said the beggar; “would you give me a little milk?” “Ah! my
friend,” she answered, “I will give you all my goat’s milk, if you
want it.” “I do not want all the milk of your goat; a little will be
enough for me.” The woman went to get a glass; filled it with milk,
and offered it to the beggar, saying, “Will you dip some bread in it?”
“No; I am not hungry; I am only thirsty, and I have more than enough
to drink.” Then he drank, and as the woman continued to milk her goat,
Jesus drew near to her (for the beggar was Jesus), and said: “You will
soon hear a great noise, but no matter how loud it may be, or from what
direction it may come, do not move; continue milking your goat.”
At that very moment, a tremendous noise burst upon them. It was the
town of Issarlès sinking down into the yawning earth. The woman half
turned her head to see whence the noise came; she had no sooner done
so than she was swallowed up with the town. The ruins were immediately
covered up by a sheet of water.
On a clear day one may see to the bottom of the lake the ruins of the
town of Issarlès, and distinguish clearly by the side of a small house,
the last in the town, a woman, who with both her hands is milking a
goat. I have seen her many a time when I was passing along the shore.
VICTOR SMITH.
THE FAIRIES AND THE TWO HUNCHBACKS
A STORY OF PICARDY
Once there were three fairies who used to amuse themselves by dancing
round and round, and singing, “Sunday, Monday; Sunday, Monday.” One
day a little hunchback surprised them at this sport, and without
being afraid, he took them by the hand and began to dance with them,
repeating also, “Sunday, Monday; Sunday, Monday.” He danced so prettily
that the fairies were charmed, and to reward him took away his hunch.
Perfectly happy, he returned home, constantly singing as he went,
“Sunday, Monday; Sunday, Monday.” On the road he met another little
hunchback whom he knew. The latter was greatly astonished to see his
friend relieved of his hunch, and said: “How did you manage it? Your
hunch is gone.” “It is all very easy,” replied the other; “you have
only to go to a certain wood, when you will find some fairies; you must
dance with them and sing, ‘Sunday, Monday; Sunday, Monday,’ and they
will take away your hunch.”
“I will go, I will go at once,” cried the little hunchback, and
started immediately for the wood to which he had been directed, where,
sure enough, he found the three fairies. Without hesitating, he took
them by the hand and danced with them, repeating, “Sunday, Monday.”
But unhappily for him, he added, “Tuesday, Wednesday.” The fairies,
indignant, added to his hunch that of the first hunchback, so that he
was a fright to behold, so frightful that if you had seen him you would
have run away from him. And then?--And then the cock crew, and it was
day.
Told by Auguste Gourdin, miller, aged 63, at Warloy-Baillon (Somme).
HENRI CARNOY.
THE SKILFUL THIEF
A BRETON STORY
There was once upon a time a poor man who had two children, a boy and a
girl, Efflam and Hénori.
One day the father said to Efflam: “My son, now that you are grown up,
you should be able to get your own living and take care of yourself.
Suppose you go to Paris and seek your fortune.”
“Very well, father,” said Efflam; “I will go to Paris and seek my
fortune.”
And so the next day Efflam set out for Paris. He traveled and traveled,
always on foot. Once night surprised him in the midst of a deep forest.
He got up in a tree to wait for the morning, and to keep himself safe
from the wild beasts. Soon three robbers laden with booty stopped
under the tree. They lifted a large stone and deposited their booty
in a cavern whose entrance the stone had concealed. Then they seated
themselves under the tree to eat and drink, meanwhile talking of their
adventures. Efflam listened, and this is what he heard:--
“I,” said one of the robbers, “have a marvelous cloak which carries me
through the air, wherever I wish to go.”
“I,” said the second, “have a hat which renders me invisible, and when
I have it on my head I can go everywhere without being seen by any one.”
“And I,” said the third, “have some boots with which I can walk as
swiftly as the wind blows.”
“If I could have the cloak, the hat, and the boots, or only one of the
three,” said Efflam to himself, “that would easily make my fortune; but
how can I manage it?” Then he turned it over in his head, and hit upon
this plan: that, by letting himself down through the leafy branches,
he would fall into the midst of the robbers and shout, “Stop, thief!”
so as to make them believe that the devil or the police were at their
heels. No sooner said than done, and the three robbers, seized with
fright, ran off as fast as they could, leaving on the ground the cloak,
the hat, and the boots.
Efflam seized the three talismans, and, having put on the boots, he
soon found himself in Paris. As he was walking along the streets,
astonished at the beautiful things he saw on all sides, he noticed
a jeweler’s shop which seemed finer and richer than the others, and
was tempted to take from it a few articles of value. He put on his
magic hat, made his way into the shop without being perceived by any
one, and took everything he pleased. Afterward, in order to get ready
money, he sold in another shop the articles he had obtained in this
way. Meeting a soldier from his own country, he led him a gay life for
several days. When the money was all gone, Efflam was at no loss to
know how to get more. One day he saw at a market a vender of earthen
vases who was doing a good business, and put his money, as he received
it, into a wooden chest beside him. “I must take away his chest,” said
Efflam to himself, and putting on his hat, he easily carried off the
chest, took it where no one could see him, broke it open, took the
money which was in it, and once more lived a gay life while it lasted.
Another day, as he was taking a walk through one of the squares of
the city, he overheard three men talking together about the king’s
treasure. They were saying that they thought it a needless piece of
caution on the king’s part to place sentinels near the tower which
contained his treasure, because, since there were neither doors nor
windows to this tower, and the walls were so thick and solid, it was
impossible to make the slightest breach in it. “Very good,” said Efflam
to himself; “now I know where the king’s treasure is.” Then, addressing
the three men, he said, “So you think it impossible to steal the king’s
treasure?” “Why, yes,” they answered. “Well, I, for one, do not think
so.” And with that he left them. When night had come, he repaired to
the foot of the tower, and having spread his magic cloak on the ground,
he seated himself on it, put on his hat, and said, “Cloak, do your
duty, and bear me immediately into the king’s treasure-chamber.” This
was immediately done without being perceived by the guards or any one
else. He went out in the same manner, with his pockets filled with gold
and silver. The next night, and the next, and every night after that,
he returned to the attack, and always with the same success. Having
now become rich in a short time, he bought a palace, and sent for his
father and sister. On the day on which they were to arrive he went to
meet them with a fine carriage drawn by two horses. When he had got
about three miles from the city, seeing his father and sister coming
along the road on foot, and poorly clad, he ordered his coachman to
return to his house with one of the horses, and bring him a box which
he had forgotten and left on the table in his chamber, and which he
wanted very much. He would wait for him, he said, in a certain house by
the roadside.
The coachman unhitched one of the horses and set off. Efflam then took
his father and sister into the house by the roadside, gave them changes
of rich garments that he had brought for them in the carriage, and also
to each of them a purse filled with gold, so that the coachman, on his
return, should not take them for poor peasants, as they really were.
The coachman returned, and said to his master, “I did not find the box
in your chamber.” “Oh! I had it with me in my carriage and did not know
it.” Then they returned to the city.
One day the father asked his son how he had managed to get so rich, and
Efflam acknowledged to him that he had stolen the king’s treasure. “If
you wish,” said the old man, “I will go with you, and between us we can
bring away a larger sum.” “Very well,” said Efflam.
When night had come, they both placed themselves on the magic cloak,
put both their heads in the magic hat, and were transported into the
treasure-chamber; then they returned in the same manner, each bearing
his load of money.
But the king perceived that his treasure was being stolen, and was
very much astonished at it, for he never trusted any one with the key.
Moreover, he saw no traces of any attempt to break in. Then he set
traps around the vases which contained the silver and the gold, in
order to catch the thief. And sure enough, the next night the father
was caught. Finding he could not get away, and hoping at least to save
his son, he said to him, “Cut off my head and take it away from here,
with my clothes, so that I may not be recognized.” Efflam took his
advice, cut off his head, and took it away to bury it in his garden.
When the king came the next day to the treasure-chamber, he cried out
with joy, on seeing there the lifeless body: “Aha! my thief is taken
at last. Let us see who he is.” But neither he nor any one else could
identify the body without a head, so that he was even more puzzled
than ever. Then he published through the city that the thief had been
caught, and that his body would be dragged on a hurdle through all the
streets of the town. This was accordingly done, and four soldiers, two
before and two behind, accompanied the body, with orders to listen
attentively, and look well about them to see if any one cried or
groaned or appeared distressed as they passed along. Efflam ordered
his carriage early in the morning, and before setting out he told his
neighbors and all in his house, that he was going to take his father
to his own country, since he wished very much to return. This was to
explain the disappearance of the old man. On getting about a mile from
the city, he said to his servant as before, “Take one of the horses
and return with all speed to the city, and bring my father his purse
which he forgot when he came away.” The coachman took one of the
horses and departed. Then Efflam saw a postman coming along down the
road, and asked him if he was not very tired. “Not yet,” replied the
man; “but I shall be before I have made my rounds, for I have a long
way to go.” “If you wish,” said Efflam, “I will give you my horse and
carriage.” “You are joking with me, my lord.” “I am not joking with
you, and to prove it--here--take them.” Then Efflam got down from his
carriage and almost forced the postman to mount, while he returned to
the city quietly on foot. When he met his coachman coming again, he
said: “Again I gave you a useless ride: my father had his purse in his
pocket, and did not know it: at his age memory begins to fail. I have
given him my carriage and horse that he may return to his own country,
and I am hurrying back, for I have just remembered that I ought to be
at the house to-day.” Accordingly he mounted the horse the coachman had
ridden, and set off at a gallop. On reaching home he told his sister
the whole affair, and advised her not to cry, or groan, or appear sad,
nor even to remain out of sight, when the mutilated body of her father
should pass by on the hurdle; for if she showed the slightest sign of
grief, he would be lost, and she too. Soon the crowd was heard crying,
“Here is the thief who stole the king’s treasure!” All the people ran
to the doors of the houses, and a great crowd followed the headless
body, and no one could say who he was. When they passed by Efflam’s
house, he also was on his doorsteps, with his sister by his side. But
Hénori, not being able to endure the sight, uttered a cry and ran into
the house. Efflam followed her, and drawing his dagger he wounded her
hand with it. Two soldiers presented themselves and said, “We have
heard cries of grief in this house.” “Yes,” said Efflam; “it was my
sister, who had just cut herself with my knife, and was crying out;
see how it is bleeding.” And true enough, there was the poor girl all
bleeding and crying. The soldiers withdrew.
This plan not having succeeded, the king thought of another. He had the
body of the thief hung up on a nail fixed in the wall of his palace,
and set guards to watch near by, feeling sure that when night came the
friends and relatives of the thief would try to carry off his body.
When Efflam saw this, he disguised himself as a wine merchant, loaded
an ass with leather bottles of wine mixed with a narcotic, and went
with it, accompanied by his sister, along under that side of the palace
wall where the body of his father was suspended. With a movement of
his shoulder, he made the bottles fall off, and one of them, which
he had prepared for that purpose, came unstopped. He and his sister
began to cry and call for help. The guards ran to them, helped them
to reload their ass, and received for reward the bottle which had
become unstopped in falling, but which, nevertheless, was still more
than half full. Efflam and his sister then continued on their way. But
they retraced their steps about a half-hour later, and found the guards
stretched upon the ground and sleeping as soundly as if they were
dead. “All right,” said they. Then they went to a monastery near by
and pretended to sell them some excellent wine very cheap. By means of
the wine they made the monks all sleep soundly, from the abbot to the
porter, and took advantage of the opportunity to bury their father’s
body in holy ground in the cemetery of the monastery. Then they changed
the clothing of the monks and soldiers, so that the monks were dressed
as soldiers, and the soldiers as monks. Next morning, when the hour
for matins came, the monks dragged themselves to the chapel, only half
awake and not seeing very clearly. The first one who perceived the
singular dress of the abbot was at first utterly confounded. He rubbed
his eyes, thinking he did not see well. But as he continued to see
before him a soldier and not a monk, he touched his next neighbor with
his elbow and said, “Do you see how our abbot is dressed? What does
it mean?” The monk next him was in turn also greatly astonished, but,
looking at those who stood on each side of the abbot, they discovered
that they too were dressed like soldiers; then they looked at the
whole line of monks opposite them on the other side of the choir; and
at last they looked at each other, and found that all were in soldiers’
uniform. What could it mean? It was doubtless the work of the evil
spirit! Then the chant and prayers ceased, and they began trying to
unravel the mystery.
On the other hand, when the captain came in the morning to inspect
the soldiers set to guard the body of the thief, he also was greatly
astonished to find them all sleeping profoundly, and habited as monks.
Worse still, the body of the thief was gone. He flew into a great
passion, swore and raged, and kicked the soldiers till they awaked. The
report spread rapidly through the city that the body of the thief who
stole the king’s treasure had been carried off, and that the soldiers
set to guard it had been found in the morning dead drunk, and disguised
as monks; while the monks of the neighboring monastery, equally drunk,
wore the uniform of the soldiers. It was undoubtedly a fresh trick of
an accomplice of the thief who had been caught. It made a great stir in
the city, and every one laughed heartily.
“I am mocked again,” said the king, when he heard what had taken place.
“It must be acknowledged that this is a very skilful thief; but all
the same, I mean to find out how far his skill goes, for I hope soon
to foil it.” Then he caused notice to be given through the city that
he would the next day exhibit in the public square before his palace a
beautiful white goat of which he was very fond, and that if the thief
could succeed in taking it away, it should be his.
“That’s good,” said Efflam to himself when he heard the notice. “The
king’s white goat will be mine to-morrow before the sun goes down.”
Next day the white goat was in fact exhibited on the square in front of
the king’s palace, and a great crowd gathered, curious to know how the
thief would manage to take it away in spite of the soldiers who guarded
it. The king himself was on the balcony with the queen, and surrounded
by princes, generals, and courtiers.
Efflam put his magic hat on his head, and carried off the goat as
easily as possible, and without any one’s seeing or knowing anything
about it.
“I am mocked again!” cried the king, in vexation, when he saw that the
goat had disappeared. “But who can this man be? He must be a great
magician, for there is magic in all this. Never mind; I will not
acknowledge myself beaten, and I propose to know how far this will go.”
Efflam had killed the king’s goat as soon as he reached home, and told
his sister to use it for their own table as long as there was any of
it, advising her to cook it in the greatest secrecy, and not to give
the smallest portion of it to any other person, not even to a beggar.
Meanwhile the king thought of another means of testing the skill and
cunning of the thief. He sent for a blind beggar, and told him to go
and ask alms at the door of every house in the city, and to beg at each
door for a bit of meat, which he should taste as soon as he received
it. If any bit of goat’s flesh was given him, he should, with a piece
of white chalk, make a cross on the door of the house where he had
received it, and come at once and tell the king.
The beggar at once began his rounds. When he came to Efflam’s house,
Hénori, who had doubtless forgotten her brother’s warning, or had no
fear of being accused by a blind man who knew neither her nor her
house, gave him a morsel of the king’s goat. The blind man recognized
it as soon as he had tasted it, and, unknown to the young girl, who had
gone back into the house as soon as she had ministered to his need, he
marked the door with a white cross, and hastened at once to inform the
king. The latter sent four soldiers to search the house, the door of
which was marked with a white cross in chalk, with orders to bring to
him immediately the inmates of the house. But Efflam had noticed the
white cross on his door, and questioned his sister, to see if she had
disobeyed him in anything. Hénori told him she had indeed given the
remnant of their last meal to an old beggar who had excited her pity,
but there was nothing to be feared from him, for he was blind. Efflam,
without waiting to hear another word, got a bit of chalk and went all
about the city drawing crosses on all the doors. The soldiers stopped
at the first door where they saw a cross, exclaiming, “Here it is!”
They entered and found two old people, husband and wife, and requested
them to accompany them to the king’s palace. “What does the king want
with us?” they asked, filled with astonishment. “You have stolen his
treasure and his goat.” “How could we do it,” they cried, overcome with
fright, “old and feeble as we are? It is more than six months since we
have set foot out of our house.” The soldiers, seeing them so old and
so helpless, looked at each other, and said, “These are not the right
ones; that is evident: come, let us see if we do not find a cross on
some other door.” So they went out, and found with surprise that the
doors of all the houses in that quarter of the city were marked with
similar crosses; so they went and told the king.
“What a man this thief is!” said the king; and began to devise at once
some other means of catching him. The next day he caused notice to be
given throughout the city that he would expose his royal crown on the
public square in front of the palace, and that it should belong to the
person who could steal it without being caught. When Efflam heard that,
he said to himself, “His crown shall be mine as well as his goat.”
The royal crown was exhibited at the appointed time and place. A
considerable crowd had assembled on the square, curious to see if the
thief would succeed in carrying off this also. The king and his court
were on the balcony of the palace, and a large number of soldiers
mounted guard, with drawn swords, around the velvet cushion on which
the crown set. But all these precautions were vain; and Efflam, wearing
his magic hat, bore off the king’s crown as easily as he had carried
away the goat. The old monarch, perceiving at last that he had to
contend with the most cunning thief in his kingdom, who was evidently
a great magician besides, perceived that it was useless to contend
against him, and that it would be better to win him over and attach him
to himself, than to persecute him. He then proclaimed that he would
set his only daughter in the same place in the square where the white
goat and the royal crown had been exposed, and that if the thief should
succeed equally well in stealing her, he would give her to him for his
wife.
He was by this time quite certain that the thief would stand this last
test as well as all the others.
And true enough, Efflam bore off the princess in the same mysterious
fashion, without any one knowing what had become of her.
Then when the king had returned to his palace, Efflam repaired thither
also, accompanied by the princess, and reminded the old monarch of his
promise. The latter did not hesitate to keep his word, and the marriage
of Efflam and the princess was celebrated with pomp and solemnity.
Moreover, the king, who was a widower, took for his wife Hénori, the
sister of his son-in-law, and for a whole month there were holidays and
games and magnificent banquets every day.
Related in Breton, by Vincent Coat, a workman in a tobacco factory in
Morlaix, Aug. 20, 1876.
THE KING’S THREE SONS;
OR,
THE HUNCHBACK AND HIS TWO BROTHERS
A BRETON STORY
Once upon a time there was a king who had three sons, two of whom were
fine, handsome young men, and the third was a hunchback whose name was
Alain. This last was not beloved by his father, who sent him off to the
kitchen with the cooks, while the two older brothers ate with him at
his own table and went with him everywhere.
One day the old king sent for his three sons, and said to them:--
“You see I am getting old, my children, and I want to spend the rest
of my days in peace and quiet. I wish to give up my crown, with the
administration of my kingdom, to that one of you three who will bring
me the finest piece of linen. Set out, then, travel far away, and
return in a year and a day.”
Thereupon the three brothers started off on three different routes. The
two older brothers had each a fine horse to carry him, and pockets full
of gold and silver. They went first to see their sweethearts and bid
them good-by. But there they forgot their quest, and led gay lives as
long as their money lasted.
The hunchback, who had received from his father only a six-franc
piece, and no horse, walked and walked bravely on. When he was hungry
he gnawed a crust of bread, gathered hazel-nuts, whortleberries, and
wild mulberries from the bushes along the road, and drank out of the
hollow of his hand from the wayside springs. One day as he was crossing
a great moor he heard a clear, fresh voice singing an old song. He
stopped to listen, and said, “I must see who it is that sings like
that”; and he followed the sound of the voice.
He soon came upon a young girl of great beauty, who addressed him
thus,--
“Good morning, Alain, youngest son of the king of France.”
“You know me, then?” asked the astonished prince.
“Yes, I know you; I even know where you are going and what you seek;
your father has told you and your two brothers that he will give up his
crown and his kingdom to that one of you three who will bring him the
finest piece of linen: is it not so?”
“It is quite true,” replied Alain, more and more astonished.
“Well, your two brothers have gone to see their sweethearts, and are
having a good time with them, without caring anything about the search
for the fine linen. You, who have no lady-love, have resolutely set to
work, and you deserve to succeed. Come with me to my castle, and I will
tell you what to do.”
Alain followed her to what she called her castle, but which was only a
miserable hut of mud and clay. He remained there some time with her,
and, before he left, she gave him a little box, not larger than his
fist, and said to him,--
“It is time for you to return home; take this little box, and present
yourself with confidence before your father.”
Alain returned with his box. When he reached the court of his father’s
palace, he saw his two brothers at the windows, quite happy and content
with themselves. They had returned, with their horses laden with fine
pieces of linen.
“See! Alain has come, too,” they cried; “he comes without the smallest
piece of linen, as ugly and miserable as when he set out, and has not
even lost his hunch by the way!”
The two elder brothers then spread out their linens before their
father. They were very fine and expensive.
“And you, Alain,” said his father, “do you refuse to compete? for you
have brought nothing.”
Then Alain drew the small box from his pocket, and presented it to his
father, saying,--
“Take this box, my father, and open it.”
The old king took the box, opened it, and immediately there fell out
of it a piece of white linen, smooth to the touch, soft and shining as
silk. And for more than an hour, piece after piece fell out, so that
the box seemed inexhaustible.
“Alain has won!” said the king. “My crown is his!”
“There is sorcery in this,” said the two elder brothers, much put out,
“and there must be three trials.”
“I agree,” said the king, who was much displeased at the idea of
leaving his crown to a hunchback.
“Give us another test,” they cried.
“Very well; to him who brings me the finest horse.”
And the three brothers set out, each by himself. The two older ones
went, as before, to see their lady-loves, and the hunchback took once
more the road across the moor, where he had met the beautiful young
girl who had gained him his first victory. When, after much trouble,
he reached it, he heard the same voice singing its song. “All’s well,”
said he, comforted and full of hope. And he hastened toward the
singer’s clay house.
“Good morning,” said he, as he entered; “I have come to see you again.”
“Good morning, young son of the king,” replied the young girl; “I know
why you have come! Your brothers, beaten in the first contest, have
demanded that there shall be three, and the second test is to bring to
your father the finest horse.”
“That is true; but how can I get a fine horse without money?”
“You got the finest linen without money; why should you not also have
the finest horse without money? Remain here with me until the time
comes to return, and do not be at all uneasy.”
Alain took courage, and remained with the young girl. When the day
arrived, she gave him another box, bidding him be sure not to open it
until he should be in the courtyard of his father’s palace.
Then he departed. But he had not gone far when he yielded to curiosity.
He opened his box to see what was in it; and immediately a beautiful
horse jumped out,--swift as lightning,--and disappeared in a moment.
And now, our young man began to cry. What should he do now? He resolved
to return to the young girl, as he had not gotten very far from her
house, and tell her of his misfortune. His kind friend gave him a
second box, bidding him again not to open it until he should be in the
court-yard of his father’s palace, and holding it between his knees.
This time he did not open it. When he reached the court of the palace,
his two brothers had been there already some time, and each of them had
a magnificent horse, of which he was very proud. When they saw Alain
arrive, they cried,--
“Here is the hunchback, at last; but he has no horse!”
“I have a box, as before,” answered Alain, drawing his box from his
pocket.
“Your fine horse is in that, no doubt,” said they.
“Perhaps,” said Alain.
“Open it, then, that we may see your mouse.”
Alain put his box between his knees, opened it, and immediately he
found himself in the saddle on a superb horse with a golden bridle on
his head, fiery and spirited, and with sparks flying from his four
feet, his nostrils, and his eyes.
“Alain has won it this time, too,” cried the old king, filled with
astonishment; and his victory was indeed so apparent that his brothers
did not dream of disputing it. But they cried out spitefully: “Now for
the third trial. What shall it be, father?”
“Well,” said the king, “this time to him who shall bring me the most
beautiful princess.”
Then the three brothers set out again at once. The two elder ones
went as before to see their fair ladies, and Alain returned to his
mysterious friend in the great moor.
“Good morning, young son of the king,” said she, seeing him return.
“Your father has said that his crown shall be given to that one of his
three sons who shall bring him the most beautiful princess.”
“Yes,” said the prince, “and I do not even know a princess.”
“That makes no difference; stay here with me until the time comes to
present yourself to your father, and have faith in me.”
So Alain remained again with his friend, and when the time was come,
she said to him:--
“Here is a hen with a linen cloth on her back; return with it to your
father’s house, and be very sure not to lose the hen and the linen
also.”
“But shall I have no princess, then?”
“Go on with your hen, and trust me for the rest.”
So Alain set out with the hen. But as he was going through a dark
forest, she flew away, and then he began to cry. Two princesses, one
more beautiful than the other, suddenly appeared beside him. “Why do
you weep thus?” said one of them to him.
“I have lost my hen!” said Alain.
“If that is all, be comforted; I will find her for you.”
And sure enough, the hen came back at a sign from the princess, and she
still had her linen on her back. The most beautiful of the princesses
touched her with the end of a white wand she had in her hand, and
immediately she was changed into a fine gilded carriage drawn by six
superb horses. Alain saw his hunch suddenly disappear, and found
himself a very handsome young man, with magnificent princely clothes,
and seated in the coach by the side of the less beautiful of the two
princesses. The other, the more beautiful one, was seated on the
coachman’s seat, holding the reins and driving the coach. They repaired
in this state to the king’s palace. The two elder brothers had already
arrived there, and were waiting for the hunchback at the windows, each
having by his side a beautiful princess of whom he was very proud.
When Alain entered the court-yard with his splendid, shining coach and
his two companions, it seemed as if the sun himself had driven in there
in his chariot. The two elder brothers and their princesses, dazzled by
so much light and beauty, and bursting with envy at seeing the state in
which their youngest brother returned, covered their faces with their
hands. The old king, formerly so cross and full of pains, brightened
up again, and slowly descended to the court to receive Alain and his
train.
“My crown and my kingdom are yours, my son Alain,” he cried.
Then he gave his hand to the princesses to help them alight and led
them into the palace. The two elder princes and their princesses hid
themselves for shame and envy.
However, they had to come to a great feast which the old king ordered
to be prepared, and to which he invited all the court and the great men
of his kingdom.
During the feast, Alain’s beautiful princess put into her apron a
bit of each of the dishes served to her; seeing this, his brothers’
princesses imitated her. When all arose from the table, she said that
she wished to make a little present to each guest, and even to the
servants. And putting her right hand into her apron, which, with her
left she held gathered up to her breast, she drew from it again and
again gold rings, pearls, diamonds, and flowers, and distributed them
freely, to the great astonishment and satisfaction of all.
The other two princesses wished to imitate her also in this; but, alas!
instead of gold rings, pearls, diamonds, and lovely, sweet-scented
flowers, they drew out of their aprons, only what they had put
there--meat, sausages, and such eatables. Their fine clothes were all
soiled by the grease and gravy which ran out of them. Attracted by the
general bursts of laughter, the dogs and cats pursued them and tore
their dresses to pieces. They ran away with their lovers, filled with
rage and confusion, and appeared no more.
Soon afterward the marriage of Alain and his beautiful princess was
celebrated, and the holidays and plays and feasts continued for a whole
month.
Told by Marguerite Philippe, July 21, 1871.
F. M. LUZEL.
THE HARE, THE BEAR, AND THE FOX
I
There was a young soldier named Hervé Laz-Bleiz. When he returned from
the war in far away lands, his father and mother were dead. He had no
brother, but he had a young sister named Hénori. Their parents had left
them, for their entire inheritance, a cow and two sheep. Hervé said to
Hénori,--
“Let us sell the cow and the sheep, and go to seek our fortunes
somewhere else, instead of remaining here in poverty.”
The cow and the sheep were sold; then the brother and sister set out on
their journey, by the grace of God. After having walked a long time and
gone very, very far, they found themselves one day in a great forest,
in the midst of which there was an old castle surrounded by high walls.
They gained entrance to the court, creeping in under the door, but saw
no one. The castle door stood open. They entered and found themselves
in a hall, but no one was there. But they saw on a table meals which
were quite hot, and the odor of them was delicious. They were very
hungry, and they looked at each other out of the corners of their eyes,
and their mouths watered. They remained silently standing, waiting for
some one to come, of whom they might ask hospitality.
But they waited in vain; no one came, and the castle appeared to be
abandoned. Seeing this, Hervé, who was not very timid, said to his
sister,--
“Upon my word, it is useless to wait longer, and it is a shame to let
such a good dinner get cold; let us seize the opportunity, and eat and
drink, and then we shall see what will happen.”
They seated themselves at the table, and ate and drank with good
appetites, without any one coming to interrupt them. Hénori, who was at
first much frightened, became quite brave when she had drank a glass or
two of the excellent wine she had found on the table; and as for Hervé,
who had drank much more, he already dreamed of being master of the
chateau, and thought it would be a great pity to leave a hotel when he
was so comfortable.
On rising from the table, the brother and sister went through the halls
and rooms. In the first room, they found heaps of gold and silver; in
the second, more gold and silver; in the third, there were guns, and
pieces of linen and stuff, goods, and men’s clothing of all shapes and
sizes.
“It is a den of robbers,” said Hervé, when he saw all this. “They have
gone off on some expedition, and will doubtless soon return. But since
we are here, and these are good arms, let us take possession of them
and all the treasure will be ours.”
And they began to prepare themselves, as well as possible, to stand a
siege. They barricaded the doors and window casements, loaded all the
guns, and sat down to wait.
About two or three o’clock in the morning the robbers returned, laden
with booty and all drunk. Hervé and Hénori, each stationed at a window
on the first floor, and having near them a great many guns all loaded,
began immediately to fire on them. The robbers threw themselves against
the door, raging and swearing. But they could not break it open, and
Hervé and his sister killed one with each discharge of their guns, so
that the number rapidly diminished. At last, seeing that their efforts
were in vain, all those who remained still unhurt, retired, leaving the
courtyard strewn with dead and wounded.
Hervé and Hénori passed the day in strengthening the barricades of the
doors and windows and reloading their guns, for they were sure the
robbers had gone to seek reinforcements, and would return to give them
another charge. And they were not mistaken, for they returned, having
mustered up some comrades. It was now broad daylight, so that Hervé
and his sister, each stationed at a window on the first floor, could
see clearly through the holes they had made in the shutters, and they
struck down one at each discharge of their guns. They shot so well that
they finally killed them all, except two or three wounded ones, who ran
away.
The next day there was a third attack. But this time the robbers were
all killed, every single one.
And now, Hervé and Hénori were in possession of the castle and all the
treasure it contained. However, they did not dare go out for several
days. But when they saw that no more robbers came to trouble them, they
grew bolder, and visited the gardens and all the apartments of the
castle, and everywhere they found treasures and provisions of every
kind. So, seeing that everything needful was provided, they determined
to take up their abode there.
The wood which surrounded the castle was full of all sorts of game.
Hervé went hunting there every day, often with his sister and sometimes
alone. One day when he went out alone, he ran across a fine hare and
aimed at it to kill it, when he was perfectly astonished to hear the
animal say to him, as plainly as if it had been a man,--
“Do not kill me, Hervé.”
“What! do you know me, you poor beast of the good God?”
“Yes, I know you, and I may perhaps be useful to you some day.”
“Very well! come with me then.”
And he went on, followed by the hare.
Farther on he saw a fox, and aimed at him also, but the fox said, as
the hare had done,--
“Do not kill me, Hervé, and I will pay you back some day.”
“Am I then known to all the beasts of this wood?” said Hervé, and he
lowered his gun and told the fox to follow him as well as the hare.
A little farther on he saw a bear and aimed at his jaw. But the bear
said to him, also,--
“Do not kill me, Hervé, and I will pay you back some day.”
“Good! come on; follow me and let us see what will happen.”
He continued to hunt until the evening, and killed so much game that,
not being able to carry it himself, he put it on the back of the bear.
Then they started on the road to the castle. On the way, the bear ate
the game, and the fox, seeing him, said to Hervé, “Master, the bear is
eating your game.” Hervé threatened to shoot the bear, who growled and
promised not to eat any more. When the four had reached the castle
walls the hare said to Hervé, “Master, do you know that your sister is
in her room with the chief of the robbers?”
“How can you say so? We killed all the robbers.”
“No matter, their chief still lives and he comes every day to see your
sister, while you are out hunting. Look out for them, for they are
thinking of betraying you and getting rid of you.”
“My sister loves me, and I do not believe a single word you tell me.”
“Your life is in danger, I assure you; but leave it to me: I will save
you.”
“Very well, I leave it to you, and we shall see.”
“When he knows that you are in the castle, he will hide himself
somewhere, so that he may strangle you in the night while you sleep.
But as soon as we enter, you, fox, who have such a good nose, you go
sniff all around to find where he is hid; then when you have found him,
come and tell me and we will see about it.”
They entered the castle. Hervé remained in the kitchen with the hare
and the bear, and the fox went on the search for the chief of the
robbers, sniffing and ferreting around everywhere with his pointed
snout. He discovered him in an empty cask and came to inform his
comrades.
“Go, bear,” said the hare, “go with the fox, and bring him to us.”
The bear mounted the stairs, following the fox and growling as he went.
He pulled the robber out of the cask, and taking him by one foot, he
dragged him down the stone stairway, his head falling heavily on each
step, and laid him at Hervé’s feet in the kitchen. When he saw the
latter, he ground his teeth and tried to throw himself on him. But the
bear prevented him and tore him to pieces at his master’s order. Then
Hénori was treated in the same manner.
Hervé continued to live in the castle with his three animals. Every day
they went out hunting and killed all the game they could wish.
II
One day the hare said suddenly,--
“I have just had something whispered in my ear!”
“What is it?” asked Hervé.
“The daughter of the king of England is about to be taken to a dragon
to be devoured by him; shall we go and deliver her?”
“That would be a very perilous undertaking,” said Hervé.
“Pshaw!” said the bear, “I will undertake it: you will see.”
“All four of us,” said the fox, “can surely see it well put through.”
“Let us go, then,” said Hervé.
“Let us go,” they all repeated at once.
So they all four set out together.