_THE STORY OF A VERY BAD BOY_
ONCE upon a time there lived in a little village in the very middle of
France a widow and her only son, a boy about fifteen, whose name was
Antoine, though no one ever called him anything but Touéno-Bouéno. They
were very poor indeed, and their hut shook about their ears on windy
nights, till they expected the walls to fall in and crush them, but
instead of going to work as a boy of his age ought to do, Touéno-Bouéno
did nothing but lounge along the street, his eyes fixed on the ground,
seeing nothing that went on round him.
'You are very, very stupid, my dear child,' his mother would sometimes
say to him, and then she would add with a laugh, 'Certainly _you_ will
never catch a wolf by the tail.'
* * * * *
One day the old woman bade Antoine go into the forest and collect enough
dry leaves to make beds for herself and him. Before he had finished it
began to rain heavily, so he hid himself in the hollow trunk of a tree,
where he was so dry and comfortable that he soon fell fast asleep. By
and bye he was awakened by a noise which sounded like a dog scratching
at the door, and he suddenly felt frightened, _why_ he did not know.
Very cautiously he raised his head, and right above him he saw a big
hairy animal, coming down tail foremost.
'It is the wolf that they talk so much about,' he said to himself, and
he made himself as small as he could and shrunk into a corner.
The wolf came down the inside of the tree, slowly, slowly; Antoine felt
turned to stone, so terrified was he, and hardly dared to breathe.
Suddenly an idea entered his mind, which he thought might save him
still. He remembered to have heard from his mother that a wolf could
neither bend his back nor turn his head, so as to look behind him, and
quick as lightning he stretched up his hand, and seizing the wolf's
tail, pulled it towards him.
Then he left the tree and dragged the animal to his mother's house.
'Mother, you have often declared that I was too stupid to catch a wolf
by the tail. Now see,' he cried triumphantly.
'Well, well, wonders will never cease,' answered the good woman, who
took care to keep at a safe distance. 'But as you really _have_ got him,
let us see if we can't put him to some use. Fetch the skin of the ram
which died last week out of the chest, and we will sew the wolf up in
it. He will make a splendid ram, and to-morrow we will drive him to the
fair and sell him.'
Very likely the wolf, who was cunning and clever, may have understood
what she said, but he thought it best to give no sign, and suffered the
skin to be sewn upon him.
'I can always get away if I choose,' thought he, 'it is better not to be
in a hurry'; so he remained quite still while the skin was drawn over
his head, which made him very hot and uncomfortable, and resisted the
temptation to snap off the fingers or noses that were so close to his
mouth.
* * * * *
The fair was at its height next day when Touéno-Bouéno arrived with his
wolf in ram's clothing. All the farmers crowded round him, each offering
a higher price than the last. Never had they beheld such a beautiful
beast, said they, and at last, after much bargaining, he was handed over
to three brothers for a good sum of money.
[Illustration: He will make a Splendid Ram]
It happened that these three brothers owned large flocks of sheep,
though none so large and fine as the one they had just bought.
'My flock is the nearest,' observed the eldest brother; 'we will leave
him in the fold for the night, and to-morrow we will decide which
pastures will be best for him.' And the wolf grinned as he listened, and
held up his head a little higher than before.
Early next morning the young farmer began to go his rounds, and the
sheep-fold was the first place he visited. To his horror, the sheep were
all stretched out dead before him, except one, which the wolf had eaten,
bones and all. Instantly the truth flashed upon him. It was no ram that
lay curled up in the corner pretending to be asleep (for in reality he
could bend back and turn his head as much as he liked), but a wolf who
was watching him out of the corner of his eye, and might spring upon him
at any moment. So the farmer took no notice, and only thought that here
was a fine chance of revenging himself on his next brother for a trick
which he had played, and merely told him that the ram would not eat the
grass in that field, and it might be well to drive him to the pasture by
the river, where his own flock was feeding. The second brother eagerly
swallowed the bait, and that evening the wolf was driven down to the
field where the young man kept the sheep which had been left him by his
father. By the next morning they also were all dead, but the second
brother likewise held his peace, and allowed the sheep which belonged to
the youngest to share the fate of the other two. Then they met and
confessed to each other their disasters, and resolved to take the animal
as fast as possible back to Touéno-Bouéno, who should get a sound
thrashing.
* * * * *
Antoine was sitting on a plum tree belonging to a neighbour, eating the
ripe fruit, when he saw the three young farmers coming towards him.
Swinging himself down, he flew home to the hut, crying breathlessly,
'Mother, mother, the farmers are close by with the wolf. They have found
out all about it, and will certainly kill me, and perhaps you too. But
if you do as I tell you, I may be able to save us both. Lie down on the
floor, and pretend to be dead, and be sure not to speak, whatever
happens.'
Thus when the three brothers, each armed with a whip, entered the hut a
few seconds later, they found a woman extended on the floor, and Touéno
kneeling at her side, whistling loudly into her ears.
'What are you doing now, you rascal?' asked the eldest.
'What am I doing? Oh, my poor friends, I am the most miserable creature
in the world! I have lost the best of mothers, and I don't know what
will become of me,' and he hid his face in his hands and sobbed again.
'But what are you whistling like that for?'
'Well, it is the only chance. This whistle has been known to bring the
dead back to life, and I hoped--' here he buried his face in his hands
again, but peeping between his fingers he saw that the brothers had
opened their six eyes as wide as saucers.
'Look!' he suddenly exclaimed with a cry, 'Look! I am sure I felt her
body move! And now her nostrils are twitching. Ah! the whistle has not
lost its power after all,' and stooping down, Touéno whistled more
loudly than before, so that the old woman's feet and hands showed signs
of life, and she soon was able to lift her head.
The farmers were so astonished at her restoration, that it was some time
before they could speak. At length the eldest turned to the boy and
said:
'Now listen to me. There is no manner of doubt that you are a young
villain. You sold us a ram knowing full well that it was a wolf, and we
came here to-day to pay you out for it. But if you will give us that
whistle, we will pardon what you have done, and will leave you alone.'
'It is my only treasure, and I set great store by it,' answered the
boy, pretending to hesitate. 'But as you wish for it so much, well, I
suppose I can't refuse,' and he held out the whistle, which the eldest
brother put in his pocket.
* * * * *
Armed with the precious whistle, the three brothers returned home full
of joy, and as they went the youngest said to the others, 'I have such a
good idea! Our wives are all lazy and grumbling, and make our lives a
burden. Let us give them a lesson, and kill them as soon as we get in.
Of course we can restore them to life at once, but they will have had a
rare fright.'
'Ah, how clever you are,' answered the other two. 'Nobody else would
have thought of that.'
So gaily the three husbands knocked down their three wives, who fell
dead to the ground. Then one by one the men tried the whistle, and blew
so loudly that it seemed as if their lungs would burst, but the women
lay stark and stiff and never moved an eyelid. The husbands grew pale
and cold, for they had never dreamed of this, nor meant any harm, and
after a while they understood that their efforts were of no use, and
that once more the boy had tricked them. With stern faces they rose to
their feet, and taking a large sack they retraced their steps to the
hut.
This time there was no escape. Touéno had been asleep, and only opened
his eyes as they entered. Without a word on either side they thrust him
into the sack, and tying up the mouth, the eldest threw it over his
shoulders. After that they all set out to the river, where they intended
to drown the boy.
But the river was a long way off, and the day was very hot and Antoine
was heavy, heavier than a whole sheaf of corn. They carried him in
turns, but even so they grew very tired and thirsty, and when a little
tavern came in sight on the roadside, they thankfully flung the sack
down on a bench and entered to refresh themselves. They never noticed
that a beggar was sitting in the shade of the end of the bench, but
Touéno's sharp ears caught the sound of someone eating, and as soon as
the farmers had gone into the inn, he began to groan softly.
'What is the matter?' asked the beggar drawing a little nearer. 'Why
have they shut you up, poor boy?'
'Because they wanted to make me a bishop, and I would not consent,'
answered Touéno.
'Dear me,' exclaimed the beggar, 'yet it isn't such a bad thing to be a
bishop.'
'I don't say it is,' replied the young rascal, 'but I should never like
it. However, if _you_ have any fancy for wearing a mitre, you need only
untie the sack, and take my place.'
'I should like nothing better,' said the man, as he stooped to undo the
big knot.
So it was the beggar and not Touéno-Buéno who was flung into the water.
* * * * *
The next morning the three wives were buried, and on returning from the
cemetery, their husbands met Touéno-Buéno driving a magnificent flock of
sheep. At the sight of him the three farmers stood still with
astonishment.
'What! you scoundrel!' they cried at last, 'we drowned you yesterday,
and to-day we find you again, as well as ever!'
'It does seem odd, doesn't it?' answered he. 'But perhaps you don't know
that beneath this world there lies another yet more beautiful and far,
far richer. Well, it was there that you sent me when you flung me into
the river, and though I felt a little strange at first, yet I soon began
to look about me, and to see what was happening. There I noticed that
close to the place I had fallen, a sheep fair was being held, and a
bystander told me that every day horses or cattle were sold somewhere
in the town. If I had only had the luck to be thrown into the river on
the side of the horse fair I might have made my fortune! As it was, I
had to content myself with buying these sheep, which you can get for
nothing.'
'And do you know exactly the spot in the river which lies over the horse
fair?'
'As if I did not know it, when I have seen it with my own eyes.'
'Then if you do not want us to avenge our dead flocks and our murdered
wives, you will have to throw us into the river just over the place of
the horse fair.'
'Very well; only you must get three sacks and come with me to that rock
which juts into the river. I will throw you in from there, and you will
fall nearly on to the horses' backs.'
So he threw them in, and as they were never seen again, no one ever knew
into which fair they had fallen.
From 'Littérature Orale de l'Auvergne,' par Paul Sébillot.
_THE BROWN BEAR OF NORWAY_
THERE was once a king in Ireland, and he had three daughters, and very
nice princesses they were. And one day, when they and their father were
walking on the lawn, the king began to joke with them, and to ask them
whom they would like to be married to. 'I'll have the king of Ulster for
a husband,' says one; 'and I'll have the king of Munster,' says another;
'and,' says the youngest, 'I'll have no husband but the Brown Bear of
Norway.' For a nurse of hers used to be telling her of an enchanted
prince that she called by that name, and she fell in love with him, and
his name was the first name on her tongue, for the very night before she
was dreaming of him. Well, one laughed, and another laughed, and they
joked with the princess all the rest of the evening. But that very night
she woke up out of her sleep in a great hall that was lighted up with a
thousand lamps; the richest carpets were on the floor, and the walls
were covered with cloth of gold and silver, and the place was full of
grand company, and the very beautiful prince she saw in her dreams was
there, and it wasn't a moment till he was on one knee before her, and
telling her how much he loved her, and asking her wouldn't she be his
queen. Well, she hadn't the heart to refuse him, and married they were
in the same evening.
'Now, my darling,' says he, when they were left by themselves, 'you must
know that I am under enchantment. A sorceress, that had a beautiful
daughter, wished me for her son-in-law; but the mother got power over
me, and when I refused to wed her daughter she made me take the form of
a bear by day, and I was to continue so till a lady would marry me of
her own free will, and endure five years of great trials after.'
Well, when the princess woke in the morning, she missed her husband from
her side, and spent the day very sadly. But as soon as the lamps were
lighted in the grand hall, where she was sitting on a sofa covered with
silk, the folding doors flew open, and he was sitting by her side the
next minute. So they spent another happy evening, but he warned her that
whenever she began to tire of him, or ceased to have faith in him, they
would be parted for ever, and he'd be obliged to marry the witch's
daughter.
She got used to find him absent by day, and they spent a happy
twelvemonth together, and at last a beautiful little boy was born; and
happy as she was before, she was twice as happy now, for she had her
child to keep her company in the day when she couldn't see her husband.
At last, one evening, when herself, and himself, and her child were
sitting with a window open because it was a sultry night, in flew an
eagle, took the infant's sash in his beak, and flew up in the air with
him. She screamed, and was going to throw herself out through the window
after him, but the prince caught her, and looked at her very seriously.
She bethought of what he said soon after their marriage, and she stopped
the cries and complaints that were on her tongue. She spent her days
very lonely for another twelvemonth, when a beautiful little girl was
sent to her. Then she thought to herself she'd have a sharp eye about
her this time; so she never would allow a window to be more than a few
inches open.
But all her care was in vain. Another evening, when they were all so
happy, and the prince dandling the baby, a beautiful greyhound stood
before them, took the child out of the father's hand, and was out of the
door before you could wink. This time she shouted and ran out of the
room, but there were some of the servants in the next room, and all
declared that neither child nor dog passed out. She felt, somehow, as if
it was her husband's fault, but still she kept command over herself, and
didn't once reproach him.
When the third child was born she would hardly allow a window or a door
to be left open for a moment; but she wasn't the nearer to keep the
child to herself. They were sitting one evening by the fire, when a lady
appeared standing by them. The princess opened her eyes in a great
fright and stared at her, and while she was doing so, the lady wrapped a
shawl round the baby that was sitting in its father's lap, and either
sank through the ground with it or went up through the wide chimney.
This time the mother kept her bed for a month.
'My dear,' said she to her husband, when she was beginning to recover,
'I think I'd feel better if I was to see my father and mother and
sisters once more. If you give me leave to go home for a few days, I'd
be glad.' 'Very well,' said he, 'I will do that, and whenever you feel
inclined to return, only mention your wish when you lie down at night.'
The next morning when she awoke she found herself in her own old chamber
in her father's palace. She rang the bell, and in a short time she had
her mother and father and married sisters about her, and they laughed
till they cried for joy at finding her safe back again.
[Illustration: The Princess loses her first Baby]
In time she told them all that happened to her, and they didn't know
what to advise her to do. She was as fond of her husband as ever, and
said she was sure that he couldn't help letting the children go; but
still she was afraid beyond the world to have another child torn from
her. Well, the mother and sisters consulted a wise woman that used to
bring eggs to the castle, for they had great faith in her wisdom. She
said the only plan was to secure the bear's skin that the prince was
obliged to put on every morning, and get it burned, and then he couldn't
help being a man night and day, and the enchantment would be at an end.
So they all persuaded her to do that, and she promised she would; and
after eight days she felt so great a longing to see her husband again
that she made the wish the same night, and when she woke three hours
after, she was in her husband's palace, and he himself was watching over
her. There was great joy on both sides, and they were happy for many
days.
Now she began to think how she never minded her husband leaving her in
the morning, and how she never found him neglecting to give her a sweet
drink out of a gold cup just as she was going to bed.
One night she contrived not to drink any of it, though she pretended to
do so; and she was wakeful enough in the morning, and saw her husband
passing out through a panel in the wainscot, though she kept her eyelids
nearly closed. The next night she got a few drops of the sleepy posset
that she saved the evening before put into her husband's night drink,
and that made him sleep sound enough. She got up after midnight, passed
through the panel, and found a beautiful brown bear's hide hanging in
the corner. Then she stole back, and went down to the parlour fire, and
put the hide into the middle of it till it was all fine ashes. She then
lay down by her husband, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and fell asleep.
If she was to live a hundred years she'd never forget how she wakened
next morning, and found her husband looking down on her with misery and
anger in his face. 'Unhappy woman,' said he, 'you have separated us for
ever! Why hadn't you patience for five years? I am now obliged, whether
I like or no, to go a three days' journey to the witch's castle, and
marry her daughter. The skin that was my guard you have burned it, and
the egg-wife that gave you the counsel was the witch herself. I won't
reproach you: your punishment will be severe enough without it. Farewell
for ever!'
He kissed her for the last time, and was off the next minute, walking as
fast as he could. She shouted after him, and then seeing there was no
use, she dressed herself and pursued him. He never stopped, nor stayed,
nor looked back, and still she kept him in sight; and when he was on the
hill she was in the hollow, and when he was in the hollow she was on the
hill. Her life was almost leaving her, when, just as the sun was
setting, he turned up a lane, and went into a little house. She crawled
up after him, and when she got inside there was a beautiful little boy
on his knees, and he kissing and hugging him. 'Here, my poor darling,'
says he, 'is your eldest child, and there,' says he, pointing to a woman
that was looking on with a smile on her face, 'is the eagle that carried
him away.' She forgot all her sorrows in a moment, hugging her child,
and laughing and crying over him. The woman washed their feet, and
rubbed them with an ointment that took all the soreness out of their
bones, and made them as fresh as a daisy. Next morning, just before
sunrise, he was up, and prepared to be off. 'Here,' said he to her, 'is
a thing which may be of use to you. It's a scissors, and whatever stuff
you cut with it will be turned into silk. The moment the sun rises, I'll
lose all memory of yourself and the children, but I'll get it at sunset
again. Farewell!' But he wasn't far gone till she was in sight of him
again, leaving her boy behind. It was the same to-day as yesterday:
their shadows went before them in the morning and followed them in the
evening. He never stopped, and she never stopped, and as the sun was
setting he turned up another lane, and there they found their little
daughter. It was all joy and comfort again till morning, and then the
third day's journey commenced.
But before he started he gave her a comb, and told her that whenever she
used it, pearls and diamonds would fall from her hair. Still he had his
memory from sunset to sunrise; but from sunrise to sunset he travelled
on under the charm, and never threw his eye behind. This night they came
to where the youngest baby was, and the next morning, just before
sunrise, the prince spoke to her for the last time. 'Here, my poor
wife,' said he, 'is a little hand-reel, with gold thread that has no
end, and the half of our marriage ring. If you ever get to my house, and
put your half-ring to mine, I shall recollect you. There is a wood
yonder, and the moment I enter it I will forget everything that ever
happened between us, just as if I was born yesterday. Farewell, dear
wife and child, for ever!' Just then the sun rose, and away he walked
towards the wood. She saw it open before him, and close after him, and
when she came up, she could no more get in than she could break through
a stone wall. She wrung her hands and shed tears, but then she
recollected herself, and cried out, 'Wood, I charge you by my three
magic gifts, the scissors, the comb, and the reel--to let me through';
and it opened, and she went along a walk till she came in sight of a
palace, and a lawn, and a woodman's cottage on the edge of the wood
where it came nearest the palace.
She went into this lodge, and asked the woodman and his wife to take her
into their service. They were not willing at first; but she told them
she would ask no wages, and would give them diamonds, and pearls, and
silk stuffs, and gold thread whenever they wished for them, and then
they agreed to let her stay.
It wasn't long till she heard how a young prince, that was just arrived,
was living in the palace of the young mistress. He seldom stirred
abroad, and every one that saw him remarked how silent and sorrowful he
went about, like a person that was searching for some lost thing.
The servants and conceited folk at the big house began to take notice of
the beautiful young woman at the lodge, and to annoy her with their
impudence. The head footman was the most troublesome, and at last she
invited him to _come and take tea_ with her. Oh, how rejoiced he was,
and how he bragged of it in the servants' hall! Well, the evening came,
and the footman walked into the lodge, and was shown to her
sitting-room; for the lodge-keeper and his wife stood in great awe of
her, and gave her two nice rooms for herself. Well, he sat down as stiff
as a ramrod, and was talking in a grand style about the great doings at
the castle, while she was getting the tea and toast ready. 'Oh,' says
she to him, 'would you put your hand out at the window and cut me off a
sprig or two of honeysuckle? He got up in great glee, and put out his
hand and head; and said she, 'By the virtue of my magic gifts, let a
pair of horns spring out of your head, and sing to the lodge.' Just as
she wished, so it was. They sprung from the front of each ear, and met
at the back. Oh, the poor wretch! And how he bawled and roared! and the
servants that he used to be boasting to were soon flocking from the
castle, and grinning and huzzaing, and beating tunes on tongs and
shovels and pans; and he cursing and swearing, and the eyes ready to
start out of his head, and he so black in the face, and kicking out his
legs behind like mad.
At last she pitied him, and removed the charm, and the horns dropped
down on the ground, and he would have killed her on the spot, only he
was as weak as water, and his fellow-servants came in and carried him
up to the big house.
Well, some way or other the story came to the ears of the prince, and he
strolled down that way. She had only the dress of a countrywoman on her
as she sat sewing at the window, but that did not hide her beauty, and
he was greatly puzzled after he had a good look, just as a body is
puzzled to know whether something happened to him when he was young or
if he only dreamed it. Well, the witch's daughter heard about it too,
and she came to see the strange girl; and what did she find her doing
but cutting out the pattern of a gown from brown paper; and as she cut
away, the paper became the richest silk she ever saw. The witch's
daughter looked on with greedy eyes, and, says she, 'What would you be
satisfied to take for that scissors?' 'I'll take nothing,' says she,
'but leave to spend one night outside the prince's chamber.' Well, the
proud lady fired up, and was going to say something dreadful; but the
scissors kept on cutting, and the silk growing richer and richer every
inch. So she promised what the girl had asked her.
When the night came on she was let into the palace and lay down till the
prince was in such a dead sleep that all she did couldn't awake him. She
sung this verse to him, sighing and sobbing, and kept singing it the
night long, and it was all in vain:
Four long years I was married to thee;
Three sweet babes I bore to thee;
Brown Bear of Norway, won't you turn to me?
At the first dawn the proud lady was in the chamber, and led her away,
and the footman of the horns put out his tongue at her as she was
quitting the palace.
So there was no luck so far; but the next day the prince passed by again
and looked at her, and saluted her kindly, as a prince might a farmer's
daughter, and passed on; and soon the witch's daughter passed by, and
found her combing her hair, and pearls and diamonds dropping from it.
Well, another bargain was made, and the princess spent another night of
sorrow, and she left the castle at daybreak, and the footman was at his
post and enjoyed his revenge.
The third day the prince went by, and stopped to talk with the strange
woman. He asked her could he do anything to serve her, and she said he
might. She asked him did he ever wake at night. He said that he often
did, but that during the last two nights he was listening to a sweet
song in his dreams, and could not wake, and that the voice was one that
he must have known and loved in some other world long ago. Says she,
'Did you drink any sleepy posset either of these evenings before you
went to bed?' 'I did,' said he. 'The two evenings my wife gave me
something to drink, but I don't know whether it was a sleepy posset or
not.' 'Well, prince,' said she, 'as you say you would wish to oblige me,
you can do it by not tasting any drink to-night.' 'I will not,' says he,
and then he went on his walk.
Well, the great lady came soon after the prince, and found the stranger
using her hand-reel and winding thread of gold off it, and the third
bargain was made.
That evening the prince was lying on his bed at twilight, and his mind
much disturbed; and the door opened, and in his princess walked, and
down she sat by his bedside and sung:
Four long years I was married to thee;
Three sweet babes I bore to thee;
Brown Bear of Norway, won't you turn to me?
[Illustration:
Four long years I was married to thee
Three sweet babes I bore to thee
Brown Bear of Norway--won't you turn to me?]
'Brown Bear of Norway!' said he. 'I don't understand you.' 'Don't you
remember, prince, that I was your wedded wife for four years?' 'I do
not,' said he, 'but I'm sure I wish it was so.' 'Don't you remember
our three babes, that are still alive?' 'Show me them. My mind is all a
heap of confusion.' 'Look for the half of our marriage ring, that hangs
at your neck, and fit it to this.' He did so, and the same moment the
charm was broken. His full memory came back on him, and he flung his
arms round his wife's neck, and both burst into tears.
Well, there was a great cry outside, and the castle walls were heard
splitting and cracking. Everyone in the castle was alarmed, and made
their way out. The prince and princess went with the rest, and by the
time all were safe on the lawn, down came the building, and made the
ground tremble for miles round. No one ever saw the witch and her
daughter afterwards. It was not long till the prince and princess had
their children with them, and then they set out for their own palace.
The kings of Ireland, and of Munster, and Ulster, and their wives, soon
came to visit them, and may everyone that deserves it be as happy as the
Brown Bear of Norway and his family.