When, at last, he reached the capital, where resided the Fair One with
Golden Locks, it appeared so magnificent that he thought he should be
lucky indeed if he could persuade her to leave such wonders, to come and
marry the king, his master. He, however, determined to do his best; so,
having put on a brocaded dress, with a richly-embroidered scarf, and
hung round his neck a small basket, containing a beautiful little dog he
had bought on the road, he asked for admittance at the palace gate with
such graceful dignity that the guards all bowed respectfully, and the
attendants ran to announce the arrival of another ambassador, named
Avenant, from the king, her neighbour.
The princess bid her women fetch the blue brocaded satin gown, and
dress her hair with fresh wreaths of flowers; and, when her toilet was
completed, she entered her audience chamber, where Avenant was waiting
for her. Though dazzled at the sight of her rare beauty, he nevertheless
delivered an eloquent harangue, which he wound up by entreating the
princess not to give him the pain of returning without her. "Gentle
Avenant," replied she, "your speech is fair; but you must know, that, a
month ago I let fall into the river a ring that I value above my
kingdom, and I made a vow at the time, that I would never listen to a
marriage proposal from anybody, unless his ambassador recovered my lost
treasure. So you see, were you to talk till doomsday, you could not
shake my determination."
Avenant, though surprised and vexed at such an answer, made a low bow,
and requested the princess's acceptance of the dog, the basket, and the
scarf he wore; but she refused his proffered gifts, and bid him consider
of what she had said.
Avenant went to bed supperless that night; nor could he close his eyes
for a long while, but kept lamenting that the princess required
impossible things to put him off the suit he had undertaken. But his
little dog Cabriole bid him be of good cheer, as fortune would no doubt
favour him; and though Avenant did not much rely on his good luck, he at
length fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.
[Illustration]
The next morning Cabriole woke up his master who dressed himself and
went to take a walk. His feet insensibly carried him to the river side,
when he heard a voice calling out: "Avenant! Avenant!" He looked about
him, but seeing no one, was proceeding on his way, when Cabriole, who
was looking at the water, cried: "Why, master, as I'm alive, it is a
golden carp that is hailing you." Upon which the carp approached,
saying: "You saved my life in the meadow, and I promised to be grateful.
So here is the ring you are seeking for, gentle Avenant."
He then hastened to the palace, and, requesting an audience of the
princess, he presented her the ring, and asked whether she had any
objection now to marry his master? On seeing her ring she was greatly
amazed; but, being intent on putting him off once more, she replied:
"Since you are so ready to fulfil my behests, most gracious Avenant, I
pray you do me another service, without which I cannot marry. There
lives not far from hence a giant named Galifron, who has threatened to
ravage my kingdom unless I granted him my hand. But I could not resolve
to marry a monster who is as tall as a tower, who carries cannons in his
pocket to serve for pistols, and whose voice is so loud that people grow
deaf if they approach too near him. He is daily killing and eating my
subjects, and if you want to win my good graces on your master's behalf,
you must bring me the giant's head."
Avenant was taken somewhat aback at this proposal; yet, after a few
moments reflection, he said, "Well, madam, I am ready to fight Galifron;
and, though I may not conquer, I can, at least, die the death of a
hero." The princess, who had never expected Avenant would consent, now
sought to dissuade him from so rash an attempt; but all she could say
proved vain; and, having equipped himself for the fight, he mounted his
horse and departed.
As he approached Galifron's castle, he found the road strewed with the
bones and carcases of those whom he had devoured or torn to pieces; and
presently the giant emerged from a wood, when, seeing Avenant with his
sword drawn, he ran at him with his iron club, and would have killed him
on the spot, had not a crow come and pecked at his eyes, and made the
blood stream down his face; so that, while he aimed his blows at random,
Avenant plunged his sword up to the hilt into his heart. Avenant then
cut off his head, and the crow perched on a tree, saying: "I have not
forgotten how you saved my life by killing the eagle. I promised to do
you a good turn, and I have kept my word." "In truth I am greatly
beholden to you, master crow," quoth Avenant, as he mounted his horse,
and rode off with Galifron's head.
[Illustration]
When he reached the city, the inhabitants gathered round him, and
accompanied him with loud cheers to the palace. The princess, who had
trembled for his safety, was delighted to see him return. "Now madam,"
said Avenant, "I think you have no excuse left for not marrying my liege
lord." "Yes, indeed I have," answered she; "and I shall still refuse him
unless you procure me some water from the fountain of beauty. This water
lies in a grotto, guarded by two dragons. Inside the grotto is a large
hole full of toads and serpents, by which you descend to a small cellar
containing the spring. Whoever washes her face with this water retains
her beauty, if already beautiful, or becomes beautiful, though ever so
ugly. It makes the young remain young, and the old become young again.
So you see, Avenant, I cannot leave my kingdom without carrying some of
this water away with me." "Methinks, madam," observed Avenant, "you are
far too beautiful to need any such water; but, as you seek the death of
your humble servant, I must go and die."
Accordingly, Avenant set out with his faithful little dog, and at last
reached a high mountain, from the top of which he perceived a rock as
black as ink, whence issued clouds of smoke. Presently out came a green
and yellow dragon, whose eyes and nostrils were pouring forth fire, and
whose tail had at least a hundred coils. Avenant drew his sword, and
taking out a phial given him by the Fair One with Golden Locks, said to
Cabriole, "I shall never be able to reach the water; so, when I am
killed, fill this phial with my blood, and take it to the princess, that
she may see what she has cost me, and then go and inform the king, my
master, of the fate that has befallen me." While he was speaking, a
voice called out: "Avenant! Avenant!" and he perceived an owl in the
hollow of a tree, who said: "You freed me from the bird-catcher's net,
and I promised to do you a good turn. So give me your phial, and I will
go and fetch the water of beauty." And away flew the owl, who, knowing
all the turnings and windings of the grotto, soon returned bearing back
his prize. After thanking the owl most heartily, Avenant lost no time in
going back to the palace, where he presented the bottle to the princess,
who now agreed to set out with him for his master's kingdom.
[Illustration]
On reaching the capital, the king came forth to meet the Fair One with
Golden Locks, and made her the most sumptuous presents. They were then
married, amid great festivities and rejoicings; but the queen, who loved
Avenant in her heart, could not forbear incessantly reminding the king,
that had it not been for Avenant she would never have come, and that it
was he alone who had procured her the water of beauty that was to
preserve her ever youthful and beautiful. So it happened that some
meddling bodies went and told the king that she preferred Avenant to
himself, when he became so jealous that he ordered his faithful subject
to be thrown into prison, and fed upon nothing but bread and water. When
the Fair One with Golden Locks heard of his disgrace, she implored the
king to release him, but the more she entreated, the more obstinately
his majesty refused. The king now imagined that his wife perhaps did not
think him handsome enough, so he had a mind to try the effects of
washing his face with the water of beauty. Accordingly, one night he
took the phial from off the mantel-piece in the queen's bed-chamber,
and rubbed his face well before he went to bed. But, unfortunately, a
short time previous the phial had been broken by one of the maids, as
she was dusting, and, to avoid a scolding, she had replaced it by a
phial which she found in the king's cabinet, containing a wash similar
in appearance, but deadly in its effects. The king went to sleep, and
died. Cabriole ran to his master to tell him the news, when Avenant bid
him go and remind the queen of the poor prisoner. So Cabriole slipped in
amongst the crowd of courtiers who had assembled on the king's death,
and whispered to her majesty: "Do not forget poor Avenant." The queen
then called to mind all he had suffered on her account, and hastening to
the tower, she took off his chains with her own white hands, and
throwing the royal mantle over his shoulders, and placing a gold crown
on his head, she said: "I choose you for my husband, Avenant, and you
shall be king." Everybody was delighted at her choice, the wedding was
the grandest ever seen, and the Fair One with Golden Locks, and her
faithful Avenant, lived happily to a good old age.
BO-PEEP
STORY BOOKS.
[Illustration]
OLD MOTHER HUBBARD,
LTTTLE BO-PEEP, &C.,
THE THREE BEARS,
LITTLE GOODY TWO-SHOES,
HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT,
DEATH OF COCK ROBIN.
NEW YORK:
LEAVITT & ALLEN BROS.,
No. 8 HOWARD STREET.
THE STORY
OF
=Old Mother Hubbard=.
[Illustration]
=Edited by Madame de Chatelain.=
=Old Mother Hubbard.=
Old Mother Hubbard
Went to the cupboard,
To give her poor dog a bone;
But when she came there
The cupboard was bare.
And so the poor dog had none.
[Illustration]
She went to the baker's
To buy him some bread,
And when she came back
Poor doggy was dead.
[Illustration]
She went to the joiner's
To buy him a coffin,
And when she came back
The dog was a-laughing
[Illustration]
She took a clean dish
To get him some tripe.
And when she came back
He was smoking his pipe.
[Illustration]
She went to the ale-house
To get him some beer,
And when she came back,
Doggy sat in a chair.
[Illustration]
She went to the tavern
For white wine and red,
And when she came back
The dog stood on his head.
[Illustration]
She went to the hatter's
To buy him a hat,
And when she came back
He was feeding the cat.
[Illustration]
She went to the barber's
To buy him a wig,
And when she came back
He was dancing a jig.
[Illustration]
She went to the fruiterer's
To buy him some fruit,
And when she came back
He was playing the flute.
[Illustration]
She went to the tailor's
To buy him a coat,
And when she came back
He was riding a goat.
[Illustration]
She went to the cobbler's
To buy him some shoes,
And when she came back
He was reading the news.
[Illustration]
She went to the sempstress
To buy him some linen,
And when she came back
The dog was a-spinning.
[Illustration]
She went to the hosier's
To buy him some hose,
And when she came back
He was dressed in his clothes.
[Illustration]
The dame made a curtsey,
The dog made a bow;
The dame said, "Your servant,"
The dog said, "Bow, wow!"
=Little Bo-Peep=;
AND
OTHER TALES.
[Illustration]
=Edited by Madame de Chatelain.=
=Little Bo-Peep.=
Little Bo-peep has lost her sheep,
And cannot tell where to find 'em;
Leave them alone, and they'll come home,
And bring their tails behind 'em.
Little Bo-peep fell fast asleep,
And dreamt she heard them bleating;
When she awoke, she found it a joke,
For still they all were fleeting.
Then up she took her little crook,
Determined for to find them;
She found them indeed, but it made her heart bleed,
For they'd left their tails behind them.
It happened one day, as Bo-peep did stray
Unto a meadow hard by;
There she espied their tails side by side,
All hung on a tree to dry.
She heaved a sigh, and wiped her eye,
And over the hillocks she raced;
And tried what she could, as a shepherdess should,
That each tail should be properly placed.
[Illustration]
=The Old Woman and her Eggs.=
[Illustration]
There was an old woman, as I've heard tell,
She went to the market her eggs for to sell,
She went to the market, all on a market day,
And she fell asleep on the king's highway.
There came a little pedlar, his name it was Stout,
He cut off her petticoats all round about;
He cut off her petticoats up to her knees,
Until her poor knees began for to freeze.
When the little old woman began to awake,
She began to shiver, and she began to shake;
Her knees began to freeze, and she began to cry,
"Oh lawk! oh mercy on me! this surely can't be I.
"If it be not I, as I suppose it be,
I have a little dog at home, and he knows me;
If it be I, he will wag his little tail,
But if it be not I, he'll bark and he'll rail."
Up jumped the little woman, all in the dark,
Up jump'd the little dog, and he began to bark;
The dog began to bark, and she began to cry,
"O lawk! oh mercy on me! I see it is not I."
[Illustration]
=Old Mother Goose.=
[Illustration]
Old Mother Goose, when
She wanted to wander,
Would ride through the air
On a very fine gander.
Mother Goose had a house
'Twas built in a wood,
Where an owl at the door
For sentinel stood.
This is her son Jack,
A plain-looking lad,
He is not very good,
Nor yet very bad.
She sent him to market,
A live goose he bought;
"Here, mother," says he,
"It will not go for nought."
Jack's goose and her gander
Grew very fond,
They'd both eat together,
Or swim in one pond.
Jack found one morning,
As I have been told,
His goose had laid him
An egg of pure gold.
Jack rode to his mother,
The news for to tell;
She call'd him a good boy,
And said it was well.
Jack sold his gold egg
To a rogue of a Jew,
Who cheated him out of
The half of his due.
Then Jack went a-courting,
A lady so gay,
As fair as the lily
And sweet as the May.
The Jew and the Squire
Came close at his back,
And began to belabour
The sides of poor Jack.
They threw the gold egg
In the midst of the sea;
But Jack he jump'd in,
And got it back presently.
The Jew got the goose,
Which he vow'd he would kill,
Resolving at once
His pockets to fill.
Jack's mother came in,
And caught the goose soon,
And, mounting its back,
flew up to the moon.
THE STORY
OF
=The Three Bears=.
[Illustration]
=Edited by Madame de Chatelain.=
=The Story of the Three Bears.=
Once upon a time there were Three Bears, who lived together in a house
of their own, in a wood. One of them was a Little, Small, Wee Bear; and
one was a Middle-sized Bear, and the other was a Great, Huge Bear. They
had each a pot for their porridge; a little pot for the Little, Small,
Wee Bear; and a middle-sized pot for the Middle Bear; and a great pot
for the Great, Huge Bear. And they had each a chair to sit in; a little
chair for the Little, Small, Wee Bear; and a middle-sized chair for the
Middle Bear; and a great chair for the Great, Huge Bear. And they had
each a bed to sleep in; a little bed for the Little, Small, Wee Bear; a
middle-sized bed for the Middle Bear; and a great bed for the Great,
Huge Bear.
[Illustration]
One day, after they had made the porridge for their breakfast, and
poured it into their porridge-pots, they walked out into the wood while
the porridge was cooling, that they might not burn their mouths by
beginning too soon to eat it. And while they were walking, a little girl
named Silver-hair came to the house. First she looked in at the window,
and then she peeped in at the keyhole; and seeing nobody in the house,
she lifted the latch. The door was not fastened, because the Bears were
good Bears, who did nobody any harm, and never suspected that anybody
would harm them. So little Silver-hair opened the door, and went in;
and well pleased she was when she saw the porridge on the table. If she
had been a good little girl, she would have waited till the Bears came
home, and then, perhaps, they would have asked her to breakfast; for
they were good Bears,--a little rough or so, as the manner of Bears is,
but for all that very good-natured and hospitable.
So first she tasted the porridge of the Great, Huge Bear, and that was
too hot for her. And then she tasted the porridge of the Middle Bear,
and that was too cold for her. And then she went to the porridge of the
Little, Small, Wee Bear, and tasted that; and that was neither too hot
nor too cold, but just right; and she liked it so well, that she ate it
all up.
Then little Silver-hair sate down in the chair of the Great, Huge Bear,
and that was too hard for her. And then she sate down in the chair of
the Middle Bear, and that was too soft for her. And then she sate down
in the chair of the Little, Small, Wee Bear, and that was neither too
hard nor too soft, but just right. So she seated herself in it, and
there she sate till the bottom of the chair came out, and down came
her's, plump upon the ground.
[Illustration]
Then little Silver-hair went up stairs into the bed-chamber in which the
Three Bears slept. And first she lay down upon the bed of the Great,
Huge Bear; but that was too high at the head for her. And next she lay
down upon the bed of the Middle Bear; and that was too high at the foot
for her. And then she lay down upon the bed of the Little, Small, Wee
Bear; and that was neither too high at the head nor at the foot, but
just right. So she covered herself up comfortably, and lay there till
she fell fast asleep.
By this time the Three Bears thought their porridge would be cool
enough; so they came home to breakfast. Now little Silver-hair had left
the spoon of the Great, Huge Bear standing in his porridge.
"Somebody has been at my porridge!"
said the Great, Huge Bear, in his great, rough, gruff voice. And when
the Middle Bear looked at his, he saw that the spoon was standing in it
too.
"Somebody has been at my porridge!"
said the Middle Bear, in his middle voice.
Then the Little, Small, Wee Bear looked at his, and there was the spoon
in the porridge-pot, but the porridge was all gone.
"_Somebody has been at my 'porridge, and has eaten it all up!_"
said the Little, Small, Wee Bear, in his little, small wee voice.
[Illustration]
Upon this the Three Bears, seeing that some one had entered their house,
and eaten up the Little, Small, Wee Bear's breakfast, began to look
about them. Now little Silver-hair had not put the hard cushion
straight when she rose from the chair of the Great, Huge Bear.
"Somebody has been sitting in my chair!"
said the Great, Huge Bear, in his great, rough, gruff voice.
And little Silver-hair had squatted down the soft cushion of the Middle
Bear.
"Somebody has been sitting in my chair!"
said the Middle Bear, in his middle voice.
And you know what little Silver-hair had done to the third chair.
"_Somebody has been sitting in my chair, and has sat the bottom of
it out!_"
said the Little, Small, Wee Bear, in his little, small wee voice.
Then the Three Bears thought it necessary that they should make further
search; so they went up stairs into their bed-chamber. Now little
Silver-hair had pulled the pillow of the Great, Huge Bear out of its
place.
"Somebody has been lying in my bed!"
said the Great, Huge Bear, in his great, rough, gruff voice.
And little Silver-hair had pulled the bolster of the Middle Bear out of
its place.
"Somebody has been lying in my bed!"
said the Middle Bear, in his middle voice.
And when the Little, Small, Wee Bear came to look at his bed, there was
the bolster in its place; and the pillow in its place upon the bolster;
and upon the pillow was little Silver-hair's pretty head,--which was not
in its place, for she had no business there.
"_Somebody has been lying in my bed,--and here she is!_"
said the Little, Small, Wee Bear, in his little, small, wee voice.
[Illustration]
Little Silver-hair had heard in her sleep the great, rough, gruff voice
of the Great, Huge Bear; but she was so fast asleep that it was no more
to her than the roaring of wind, or the rumbling of thunder. And she had
heard the middle voice of the Middle Bear, but it was only as if she had
heard some one speaking in a dream. But when she heard the little,
small, wee voice of the Little, Small, Wee Bear, it was so sharp, and so
shrill, that it awakened her at once. Up she started; and when she saw
the Three Bears on one side of the bed, she tumbled out at the other,
and ran to the window. Now the window was open, because the Bears, like
good, tidy Bears, as they were, always opened their bed-chamber window
when they got up in the morning. Out little Silver-hair jumped; and away
she ran into the wood, and the Three Bears never saw anything more of
her.
[Illustration]
THE STORY
OF
=Little Goody Two-Shoes=.
[Illustration]
=Edited by Madame de Chatelain.=
=Little Goody Two-Shoes.=
All the world must know that Goody Two-Shoes was not a little girl's
real name. No; her father's name was Meanwell, and he was for many years
a large farmer in the parish where Margery was born; but by the
misfortunes he met with in business, and the wickedness of Sir Timothy
Gripe, and a farmer named Graspall, he was quite ruined.
Care and discontent shortened the life of little Margery's father. Her
poor mother survived the loss of her husband but a few days, and died of
a broken heart, leaving Margery and her little brother to the wide
world; but, poor woman! it would have melted your heart to have seen how
frequently she raised her head while she lay speechless, to survey with
pitying looks her little orphans, as much as to say: "Do, Tommy,--do,
Margery, come with me." They cried, poor things, and she sighed away her
soul, and, I hope, is happy.
It would both have excited your pity and have done your heart good, to
have seen how fond these two little ones were of each other, and how,
hand in hand, they trotted about. They were both very ragged, and Tommy
had two shoes, but Margery had but one. They had nothing to support them
but what they picked from the hedges, or got from the poor people, and
they slept every night in a barn. Their relations took no notice of
them: no, they were rich, and ashamed to own such a poor ragged girl as
Margery, and such a dirty curly-pated boy as Tommy.
Mr. Smith was a very worthy clergyman, who lived in the parish where
little Margery and Tommy were born; and having a relation come to see
him, who was a charitable, good man, he sent for these children to him.
The gentleman ordered little Margery a new pair of shoes, gave Mr. Smith
some money to buy her clothes, and said he would take Tommy, and make
him a little sailor; and, accordingly, had a jacket and trowsers made
for him.
After some days, the gentleman intended to go to London, and take little
Tommy with him. The parting between these two little children was very
affecting. They both cried, and they kissed each other a hundred times.
At last Tommy wiped off her tears with the end of his jacket, and bid
her cry no more, for that he would come to her again when he returned
from sea.
Nothing could have supported little Margery under the affliction she was
in for the loss of her brother but the pleasure she took in her two
shoes. She ran to Mrs. Smith as soon as they were put on, and stroking
down her ragged apron, cried out: "Two Shoes, Ma'am! see Two Shoes!" And
so she behaved to all the people she met, and by that means obtained the
name of Little Goody Two-Shoes.
Little Margery saw how good and how wise Mr. Smith was, and concluded
that this was owing to his great learning; therefore she wanted of all
things to learn to read. For this purpose, she used to meet the little
boys and girls as they came from school, borrow their books, and sit
down and read till they returned. By this means she soon got more
learning than any of her playmates, and laid the following plan for
instructing those who were more ignorant than herself. She found that
only twenty-six letters were required to spell all the words; but as
some of these letters are large, and some small, she with her knife cut
out of several pieces of wood ten sets of each. And having got an old
spelling-book, she made her companions set up the words they wanted to
spell.