sprang upon him, and devoured him in an instant.
In the meantime the king, admiring, as he came near it, the magnificent
castle of the Ogre, ordered his attendant to drive up to the gates, as
he wished to take a nearer view of it. The cat, hearing the noise of the
carriage on the drawbridge, immediately came out, saying, "Your majesty
is welcome to the castle of my lord Marquis of Carabas."
"And is this splendid castle your's also, my lord Marquis of Carabas? I
never saw anything more stately than the building, or more beautiful
than the park and pleasure-grounds around it; no doubt, the castle is
no less magnificent within than without; pray, my lord Marquis, indulge
me with a sight of it."
The Marquis gave his hand to the young princess as she alighted, and
followed the king, who went before; they entered a spacious hall, where
they found a splendid collation which the Ogre had prepared for some
friends he had expected that day to visit him; but who, hearing that the
king with the princess and a great gentleman of the court were within
had not dared to enter.
The king was so much charmed with the amiable qualities and noble
fortune of the Marquis of Carabas, and the young princess too had fallen
so violently in love with him, that when the king had partaken of the
collation, and drank a few glasses of wine, he said to the Marquis, "It
will be your own fault, my lord Marquis of Carabas, if you do not soon
become my son-in-law."
The Marquis received the intelligence with a thousand respectful
acknowledgments, accepted the honour conferred upon him, and married the
princess that very day.
The cat became a great lord, and never again ran after rats and mice but
for his amusement.
WHITTINGTON AND HIS CAT.
In the reign of the famous King Edward the Third, there was a little boy
called Dick Whittington, whose father and mother died when he was very
young, so that he remembered nothing at all about them, and was left a
dirty little fellow running about a country village. As poor Dick was
not old enough to work, he was in a sorry plight; he got but little for
his dinner, and sometimes nothing at all for his breakfast; for the
people who lived in the village were very poor themselves, and could
spare him little more than the parings of potatoes, and now and then a
hard crust.
For all this, Dick Whittington was a very sharp boy, and was always
listening to what every one talked about.
On Sundays he never failed to get near the farmers, as they sat talking
on the tombstones in the church-yard, before the parson was come: and
once a week you might be sure to see little Dick leaning against the
sign-post of the village ale-house, where people stopped to drink as
they came from the next market-town; and whenever the barber's shop-door
was open, Dick listened to all the news he told his customers.
In this manner, Dick heard of the great city called London; how the
people who lived there were all fine gentlemen and ladies; that there
were singing and music in it all day long; and that the streets were
paved all over with gold.
One day a waggoner, with a large waggon and eight horses, all with bells
at their heads, drove through the village while Dick was lounging near
his favourite sign-post. The thought immediately struck him that it must
be going to the fine town of London; and taking courage, he asked the
waggoner to let him walk by the side of the waggon. The man, hearing
from poor Dick that he had no parents, and seeing by his ragged
condition that he could not be worse off, told him he might go if he
would; so they set off together.
Dick got safe to London; and so eager was he to see the fine streets
paved all over with gold, that he ran as fast as his legs would carry
him through several streets, expecting every moment to come to those
that were all paved with gold; for Dick had three times seen a guinea in
his own village, and observed what a great deal of money it brought in
change; so he imagined he had only to take up some little bits of the
pavement to have as much money as he desired.
Poor Dick ran till he was tired, and at last, finding it grow dark, and
that whichever way he turned he saw nothing but dirt instead of gold, he
sat down in a dark corner, and cried himself asleep.
Little Dick remained all night in the streets; and next morning, finding
himself very hungry, he got up and walked about, asking those he met to
give him a halfpenny to keep him from starving; but nobody stayed to
answer him, and only two or three gave him anything; so that the poor
boy was soon in the most miserable condition. Being almost starved to
death, he laid himself down at the door of one Mr. Fitzwarren, a great
rich merchant. Here he was soon perceived by the cook-maid, who was an
ill-tempered creature, and happened just then to be very busy dressing
dinner for her master and mistress: so, seeing poor Dick, she called
out, "What business have you here, you lazy rogue? There is nothing else
but beggars; if you do not take yourself away, we will see how you will
like a sousing of some dish-water, I have here that is hot enough to
make you caper!"
Just at this time Mr. Fitzwarren himself came home from the city to
dinner, and seeing a dirty ragged boy lying at the door, said to him,
"Why do you lie there, my lad? You seem old enough to work. I fear you
must be somewhat idle." "No, indeed, sir," says Whittington, "that is
not true, for I would work with all my heart, but I know nobody, and I
believe I am very sick for want of food."
"Poor fellow!" answered Mr. Fitzwarren.
Dick now tried to rise, but was obliged to lie down again, being too
weak to stand; for he had not eaten anything for three days, and was no
longer able to run about and beg a halfpenny of people in the streets:
so the kind merchant ordered that he should be taken into his house, and
have a good dinner immediately, and that he should be kept to do what
dirty work he was able for the cook.
Little Dick would have lived very happily in this worthy family, had it
not been for the crabbed cook, who was finding fault and scolding at him
from morning till night; and was withal so fond of roasting and basting,
that, when the spit was out of her hands, she would be at basting poor
Dick's head and shoulders with a broom, or anything else that happened
to fall in her way; till at last her ill usage of him was told to Miss
Alice, Mr. Fitzwarren's daughter, who asked the ill-tempered creature if
she was not ashamed to use a little friendless boy so cruelly; and
added, she would certainly be turned away if she did not treat him with
more kindness.
But though the cook was so ill-tempered, Mr. Fitzwarren's footman was
quite the contrary; he had lived in the family many years, was rather
elderly, and had once a little boy of his own, who died when about the
age of Whittington; so he could not but feel compassion for the poor
boy.
As the footman was very fond of reading, he used generally in the
evening to entertain his fellow-servants, when they had done their work,
with some amusing book. The pleasure our little hero took in hearing
him made him very much desire to learn to read too; so the next time the
good-natured footman gave him a halfpenny, he bought a horn-book with
it; and, with a little of his help, Dick soon learned his letters, and
afterwards to read.
About this time Miss Alice was going out one morning for a walk; and the
footman happening to be out of the way, little Dick, who had received
from Mr. Fitzwarren a neat suit of clothes, to go to church on Sundays,
was ordered to put them on, and walk behind her. As they walked along,
Miss Alice, seeing a poor woman with a child in her arms, and another at
her back, pulled out her purse, and gave her some money; and as she was
putting it again into her pocket, she dropped it on the ground, and
walked on. Luckily Dick, who was behind, saw what she had done, picked
it up, and immediately presented it to her.
Besides the ill-humour of the cook, which now, however, was somewhat
mended, Whittington had another hardship to get over. This was, that his
bed, which was of flock, was placed in a garret, where there were so
many holes in the floor and walls, that he never went to bed without
being awakened in his sleep by great numbers of rats and mice, which
generally ran over his face, and made such a noise, that he sometimes
thought the walls were tumbling down about him.
One day a gentleman who paid a visit to Mr. Fitzwarren, happened to have
dirtied his shoes, and begged they might be cleaned. Dick took great
pains to make them shine, and the gentleman gave him a penny. This he
resolved to lay out in buying a cat, if possible; and the next day,
seeing a little girl with a cat under her arm, he went up to her, and
asked if she would let him have it for a penny; to which the girl
replied, she would with all her heart, for her mother had more cats than
she could maintain; adding, that the one she had was an excellent
mouser.
This cat Whittington hid in the garret, always taking care to carry her
a part of his dinner: and in a short time he had no further disturbance
from the rats and mice, but slept as sound as a top.
Soon after this, the merchant, who had a ship ready to sail, richly
laden, and thinking it but just that all his servants should have some
chance for good luck as well as himself, called them into the parlour,
and asked them what commodity they chose to send.
All mentioned something they were willing to venture but poor
Whittington, who, having no money nor goods, could send nothing at all,
for which reason he did not come in with the rest; but Miss Alice,
guessing what was the matter, ordered him to be called, and offered to
lay down some money for him from her own purse; but this, the merchant
observed, would not do, for it must be something of his own.
Upon this, poor Dick said he had nothing but a cat, which he bought for
a penny that was given him.
"Fetch thy cat, boy," says Mr. Fitzwarren, "and let her go."
Whittington brought poor puss, and delivered her to the captain with
tears in his eyes, for he said "He should now again be kept awake all
night by the rats and mice."
All the company laughed at the oddity of Whittington's adventure, and
Miss Alice, who felt the greatest pity for the poor boy, gave him some
halfpence to buy another cat. This, and several other marks of kindness
shown him by Miss Alice, made the ill-tempered cook so jealous of the
favours the poor boy received, that she began to use him more cruelly
than ever, and constantly made game of him for sending his cat to sea,
asking him if he thought it would sell for as much money as would buy a
halter.
At last, the unhappy little fellow, being unable to bear this treatment
any longer, determined to run away from his place. He accordingly packed
up the few things that belonged to him, and set out very early in the
morning on Allhallow Day, which is the first of November. He travelled
as far as Holloway, and there sat down on a stone, which to this day is
called Whittington's Stone, and began to consider what course he should
take.
While he was thus thinking what he could do, Bow-Bells, of which there
were then only six, began to ring: and it seemed to him that their
sounds addressed him in this manner:
"Turn again Whittington,
Lord Mayor of London."
"Lord Mayor of London!" says he to himself. "Why, to be sure, I would
bear anything to be Lord Mayor of London, and ride in a fine coach!
Well, I will go back, and think nothing of all the cuffing and scolding
of old Cicely, if I am at last to be Lord Mayor of London."
So back went Dick, and got into the house, and set about his business
before Cicely came down stairs.
The ship, with the cat on board, was long beaten about at sea, and was
at last driven by contrary winds on a part of the coast of Barbary,
inhabited by Moors that were unknown to the English. The natives in
this country came in great numbers, out of curiosity, to see the people
on board, who were all of so different a colour from themselves, and
treated them with great civility; and, as they became better acquainted,
showed marks of eagerness to purchase the fine things with which the
ship was laden.
The captain, seeing this, sent patterns of the choicest articles he had
to the king of the country, who was so much pleased with them, that he
sent for the captain and his chief mate to the palace. Here they were
placed, as is 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 the greatest
rarities. No sooner, however, were the dishes set before the company,
than an amazing number of rats and mice rushed in, and helped themselves
plentifully from every dish, scattering pieces of flesh and gravy all
about the room.
The captain, extremely astonished, asked if these vermin were not very
offensive.
"Oh, yes," said they, "very offensive; and the king would give half his
treasure to be free of them: for they not only destroy his dinner, but
they disturb him even in his chamber, so that he is obliged to be
watched while he sleeps."
The captain, who was ready to jump for joy, remembering poor
Whittington's hard case, and the cat he had intrusted to his care, told
him he had a creature on board his ship that would kill them all.
The king was still more overjoyed than the captain. "Bring this creature
to me," says he, "and if she can really perform what you say, I will
load your ship with wedges of gold in exchange for her." Away flew the
captain, while another dinner was providing, to the ship, and taking
puss under his arm, returned to the palace in time to see the table
covered with rats and mice, and the second dinner in a fair way to meet
with the same fate as the first.
The cat, at sight of them, did not wait for bidding, but sprang from the
captain's arms, and in a few moments laid the greater part of the rats
and mice dead at her feet, while the rest, in the greatest fright
imaginable, scampered away to their holes.
The king having seen and considered of the wonderful exploits of Mrs.
Puss, and being informed she would soon have young ones, which might in
time destroy all the rats and mice in the country, bargained with the
captain for his whole ship's cargo, and afterwards agreed to give a
prodigious quantity of wedges of gold, of still greater value, for the
cat; with which, after taking leave of their majesties, and other great
personages belonging to the court, he, with all his ship's company, set
sail, with a fair wind for England, and, after a happy voyage, arrived
safely in the port of London.
One morning, Mr. Fitzwarren had just entered his counting-house, and was
going to seat himself at the desk, when who should arrive but the
captain and the mate of the merchant-ship, the _Unicorn_, just arrived
from the coast of Barbary, and followed by several men, bringing with
them a prodigious quantity of wedges of gold that had been paid by the
King of Barbary in exchange for the merchandise, and also in exchange
for Mrs. Puss. Mr. Fitzwarren, the instant he heard the news, ordered
Whittington to be called, and having desired him to be seated, said,
"Mr. Whittington, most heartily do I rejoice in the news these gentlemen
have brought you; for the captain has sold your cat to the King of
Barbary, and brought you in return more riches than I possess in the
whole world; and may you long enjoy them."
Mr. Fitzwarren then desired the men to open the immense treasures they
had brought, and added that Mr. Whittington had now nothing to do but to
put it in some place of safety.
Poor Dick could scarce contain himself for joy. He begged his master to
take what part of it he pleased, since to his kindness he was indebted
for the whole.
"No, no; this wealth is all your own, and justly so," answered Mr.
Fitzwarren; "and I have no doubt you will use it generously."
Whittington, however, was too kind-hearted to keep all for himself; and,
accordingly, made a handsome present to the captain, the mate, and every
one of the ship's company, and afterwards to his excellent friend the
footman, and the rest of Mr. Fitzwarren's servants, not even excepting
crabbed old Cicely.
After this, Mr. Fitzwarren advised him to send for tradespeople, and get
himself dressed as became a gentleman; and made him the offer of his
house to live in, till he could provide himself with a better.
When Mr. Whittington's face was washed, his hair curled, his hat cocked,
and he was dressed in a fashionable suit of clothes, he appeared as
handsome and genteel as any young man who visited at Mr. Fitzwarren's;
so that Miss Alice, who had formerly thought of him with compassion, now
considered him as fit to be her lover; and the more so, no doubt,
because Mr. Whittington was constantly thinking what he could do to
oblige her, and making her the prettiest presents imaginable. Mr.
Fitzwarren, perceiving their affection for each other, proposed to unite
them in marriage, to which, without difficulty, they each consented; and
accordingly a day for the wedding was soon fixed, and they were attended
to church by the lord mayor, the court of aldermen, the sheriffs, and a
great number of the wealthiest merchants in London; and the ceremony was
succeeded by a most elegant entertainment and splendid ball.
History tells us that the said Mr. Whittington and his lady lived in
great splendour, and were very happy; that they had several children;
that he was sheriff of London in the year 1340, and several times
afterwards Lord Mayor; that in the last year of his mayoralty he
entertained King Henry the Fifth, on his return from the battle of
Agincourt. And some time afterwards, going with an address from the city
on one of His Majesty's victories, he received the honour of knighthood.
Sir Richard Whittington constantly fed great numbers of the poor; he
built a church and college to it, with a yearly allowance to poor
scholars, and near it erected an hospital.
The effigy of Sir Richard Whittington was to be seen, with his cat in
his arms, carved in stone, over the archway of the late prison of
Newgate, that went across Newgate Street.
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.
A few centuries ago lived a very wealthy merchant, who had three sons
and three daughters. The education he gave them was of the most superior
kind. The girls were all handsome; but the youngest was styled the
_Little Beauty_, and hence she was, when grown up, called by the name of
_Beauty_, which made her sisters jealous,--who were proud of their
riches, kept only the grandest company, and laughed at their youngest
sister, whose study was to improve her mind. They would only marry to a
duke or an earl, while Beauty declined every offer, thinking herself too
young to be removed from her father's house.
All at once the merchant lost his whole fortune, excepting a small
country house at a great distance from town, and told his children, with
tears in his eyes, they must go there and work for their living. The two
eldest answered that they had lovers, who, they were sure, would be glad
to have them, though they had no fortune; but in this they were
mistaken, for their lovers slighted and forsook them in their poverty.
As they were not beloved, on account of their pride, everybody said,
"They do not deserve to be pitied; we are glad to see their pride
humbled; let them go and give themselves quality airs in milking the
cows and minding the dairy. But," added they, "we are extremely
concerned for Beauty; she was such a charming, sweet-tempered creature,
spoke so kindly to poor people, and was of such an affable, obliging
disposition." Nay, several gentlemen would have married her, though they
knew she had not a penny, but she told them she could not think of
leaving her poor father in his misfortunes, but was determined to go
along with him into the country to comfort and attend him. Poor Beauty
at first was sadly grieved at the loss of her fortune; "But," said she
to herself, "were I to cry ever so much, as that would not make things
better, I must try to make myself happy without a fortune." When they
came to their country house, the merchant and his three sons applied
themselves to husbandry and tillage, and Beauty rose at four in the
morning, and made haste to have the house clean, and breakfast ready for
the family. In the beginning she found it very difficult, for she had
not been used to work as a servant, but in less than two months she grew
stronger and healthier than ever. After she had done her work, she read,
played on the harpsichord, or else sang whilst she spun. On the
contrary, her two sisters did not know how to spend their time; they got
up at ten, and did nothing but saunter about the whole time, lamenting
the loss of their fine clothes and acquaintance.
"Do but see our younger sister," said one to the other, "what a poor,
stupid, mean-spirited creature she is, to be contented with such an
unhappy situation."
The good merchant was of quite a different opinion; he knew very well
that Beauty outshone her sisters in her person as well as her mind, and
admired her humility, industry, and patience, for her sisters not only
left her all the work of the house to do, but insulted her every moment.
The family had lived about a year in this retirement, when the merchant
received a letter with an account that a vessel, on board of which he
had effects, had safely arrived. This news had liked to have turned the
heads of the two eldest daughters, who immediately flattered themselves
with the hope of returning to town, for they were quite weary of a
country life, and when they saw their father ready to set out, they
begged of him to buy them new gowns, caps, rings, and all manner of
trifles; but Beauty asked for nothing, for she thought to herself that
all the money her father was going to receive would scarce be
sufficient to purchase everything her sisters wanted.
"What will you have, Beauty?" said her father.
"Since you are so good as to think of me," answered Beauty, "be so kind
as to bring me a rose; for as none grow hereabouts, they are a kind of
rarity."
Not that Beauty cared for a rose, but she asked for something lest she
should seem by her example to condemn her sisters' conduct, who would
have said she did it only to look particular. The good man went on his
journey; but when he arrived there they went to law with him about the
merchandise, and after a great deal of trouble and pains to no purpose,
he came back as poor as before.
He was within thirty miles of his own house, thinking of the pleasure he
should have in seeing his children again, when, going through a large
forest, he lost himself. It rained and snowed terribly; besides, the
wind was so high that it threw him twice off his horse; and night coming
on, he began to apprehend being either starved to death with cold and
hunger, or else devoured by the wolves, whom he heard howling all around
him, when, on a sudden, looking through a long walk of trees, he saw a
light at some distance, and going on a little farther, perceived it came
from a palace illuminated from top to bottom. The merchant returned God
thanks for this happy discovery, and hastened to the palace, but was
greatly surprised at not meeting with any one in the out-courts. His
horse followed him, and seeing a large stable open went in, and finding
both hay and oats, the poor beast, who was almost famished, fell to
eating very heartily. The merchant tied him up to the manger and walked
towards the house, where he saw no one; but entering into a large hall
he found a good fire, and a table plentifully set out, but with one
cover laid. As he was quite wet through with the rain and the snow, he
drew near the fire to dry himself. "I hope," said he, "the master of the
house, or his servants, will excuse the liberty I take. I suppose it
will not be long before some of them appear."