In the middle of a great forest there lived a long time ago a
charcoal-burner and his wife. They were both young and handsome and
strong, and when they got married, they thought work would never fail
them. But bad times came, and they grew poorer and poorer, and the
nights in which they went hungry to bed became more and more frequent.
Now one evening the king of that country was hunting near the
charcoal-burner’s hut. As he passed the door, he heard a sound of
sobbing, and being a good-natured man he stopped to listen, thinking
that perhaps he might be able to give some help.
‘Were there ever two people so unhappy!’ said a woman’s voice. ‘Here we
are, ready to work like slaves the whole day long, and no work can we
get. And it is all because of the curiosity of old mother Eve! If she
had only been like me, who never want to know anything, we should all
have been as happy as kings to-day, with plenty to eat, and warm
clothes to wear. Why--’ but at this point a loud knock interrupted her
lamentations.
‘Who is there?’ asked she.
‘I!’ replied somebody.
‘And who is “I”?’
‘The king. Let me in.’
Full of surprise the woman jumped up and pulled the bar away from the
door. As the king entered, he noticed that there was no furniture in
the room at all, not even a chair, so he pretended to be in too great
a hurry to see anything around him, and only said ‘You must not let me
disturb you. I have no time to stay, but you seemed to be in trouble.
Tell me; are you very unhappy?’
‘Oh, my lord, we can find no work and have eaten nothing for two days!’
answered she. ‘Nothing remains for us but to die of hunger.’
‘No, no, you shan’t do that,’ cried the king, ‘or if you do, it will be
your own fault. You shall come with me into my palace, and you will feel
as if you were in Paradise, I promise you. In return, I only ask one
thing of you, that you shall obey my orders exactly.’
The charcoal-burner and his wife both stared at him for a moment, as
if they could hardly believe their ears; and, indeed, it was not to be
wondered at! Then they found their tongues, and exclaimed together:
‘Oh, yes, yes, my lord! we will do everything you tell us. How could we
be so ungrateful as to disobey you, when you are so kind?’
The king smiled, and his eyes twinkled.
‘Well, let us start at once,’ said he. ‘Lock your door, and put the key
in your pocket.’
The woman looked as if she thought this was needless, seeing it was
quite, quite certain they would never come back. But she dared not say
so, and did as the king told her.
After walking through the forest for a couple of miles, they all
three reached the palace, and by the king’s orders servants led the
charcoal-burner and his wife into rooms filled with beautiful things
such as they had never even dreamed of. First they bathed in green
marble baths where the water looked like the sea, and then they put on
silken clothes that felt soft and pleasant. When they were ready, one
of the king’s special servants entered, and took them into a small hall,
where dinner was laid, and this pleased them better than anything else.
They were just about to sit down to the table when the king walked in.
‘I hope you have been attended to properly,’ said he, ‘and that you will
enjoy your dinner. My steward will take care you have all you want, and
I wish you to do exactly as you please. Oh, by the bye, there is one
thing! You notice that soup-tureen in the middle of the table? Well, be
careful on no account to lift the lid. If once you take off the cover,
there is an end of your good fortune.’ Then, bowing to his guests, he
left the room.
‘Did you hear what he said?’ inquired the charcoal-burner in an
awe-stricken voice. ‘We are to have what we want, and do what we please.
Only we must not touch the soup-tureen.’
‘No, of course we won’t,’ answered the wife. ‘Why should we wish to?
But all the same it is rather odd, and one can’t help wondering what is
inside.’
For many days life went on like a beautiful dream to the
charcoal-burner and his wife. Their beds were so comfortable, they could
hardly make up their minds to get up, their clothes were so lovely they
could scarcely bring themselves to take them off; their dinners were so
good that they found it very difficult to leave off eating. Then outside
the palace were gardens filled with rare flowers and fruits and singing
birds, or if they desired to go further, a golden coach, painted with
wreaths of forget-me-nots and lined with blue satin, awaited their
orders. Sometimes it happened that the king came to see them, and he
smiled as he glanced at the man, who was getting rosier and plumper each
day. But when his eyes rested on the woman, they took on a look which
seemed to say ‘I knew it,’ though this neither the charcoal-burner nor
his wife ever noticed.
‘Why are you so silent?’ asked the man one morning when dinner had
passed before his wife had uttered one word. ‘A little while ago you
used to be chattering all the day long, and now I have almost forgotten
the sound of your voice.’
‘Oh, nothing; I did not feel inclined to talk, that was all!’ She
stopped, and added carelessly after a pause, ‘Don’t you ever wonder what
is in that soup-tureen?’
‘No, never,’ replied the man. ‘It is no affair of ours,’ and the
conversation dropped once more, but as time went on, the woman spoke
less and less, and seemed so wretched that her husband grew quite
frightened about her. As to her food, she refused one thing after
another.
‘My dear wife,’ said the man at last, ‘you really must eat something.
What in the world is the matter with you? If you go on like this you
will die.’
‘I would rather die than not know what is in that tureen,’ she burst
forth so violently that the husband was quite startled.
‘Is that it?’ cried he; ‘are you making yourself miserable because of
that? Why, you know we should be turned out of the palace, and sent away
to starve.’
‘Oh no, we shouldn’t. The king is too good-natured. Of course he didn’t
mean a little thing like this! Besides, there is no need to lift the lid
off altogether. Just raise one corner so that I may peep. We are quite
alone: nobody will ever know.’
The man hesitated: it did seem a ‘little thing,’ and if it was to make
his wife contented and happy it was well worth the risk. So he took
hold of the handle of the cover and raised it very slowly and carefully,
while the woman stooped down to peep. Suddenly she startled back with a
scream, for a small mouse had sprung from the inside of the tureen, and
had nearly hit her in the eye. Round and round the room it ran, round
and round they both ran after it, knocking down chairs and vases in
their efforts to catch the mouse and put it back in the tureen. In the
middle of all the noise the door opened, and the mouse ran out between
the feet of the king. In one instant both the man and his wife were
hiding under the table, and to all appearance the room was empty.
‘You may as well come out,’ said the king, ‘and hear what I have to
say.’
‘I know what it is,’ answered the charcoal-burner, hanging his head. The
mouse has escaped.’
‘A guard of soldiers will take you back to your hut,’ said the king.
‘Your wife has the key.’
‘Weren’t they silly?’ cried the grandchildren of the charcoal-burners
when they heard the story. ‘How we wish that we had had the chance! WE
should never have wanted to know what was in the soup-tureen!’
From ‘Litterature Orale de l’Auvergne,’ par Paul Sebillot.