Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Sankar Viswanathan, and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
THE FAIRY BOOK.
THE BEST POPULAR STORIES SELECTED
AND RENDERED ANEW.
BY
MISS MULOCK
THE AUTHOR OF
"JOHN HALIFAX, GENTLEMAN."
NEW YORK AND LONDON:
HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS.
* * * * *
DEDICATED
TO
LITTLE OLIVE.
* * * * *
PREFACE.
A preface is usually an excrescence on a good book, and a vain apology
for a worthless one; but, in the present instance, a few explanatory
words seem necessary.
This is meant to be the best collection attainable of that delight of
all children, and of many grown people who retain the child-heart
still--the old-fashioned, time-honored classic Fairy-tale. It has been
compiled from all sources--far-off and familiar; when familiar, the
stories have been traced with care to their original form, which, if
foreign, has been retranslated, condensed, and in any other needful
way made suitable for modern British children. Perrault, Madame
d'Aulnois, and Grimm have thus been laid under contribution. Where it
was not possible to get at the original of a tale, its various
versions have been collated, compared, and combined; and in some
instances, when this proved still unsatisfactory, the whole story has
been written afresh. The few English fairy tales extant, such as _Jack
the Giant Killer, Tom Thumb_, etc., whose authorship is lost in
obscurity, but whose charming Saxon simplicity of style, and intense
realism of narration, make for them an ever-green immortality--these
have been left intact, for no later touch would improve them. All
modern stories have been excluded.
Of course, in fairy tales, instruction is not expected; we find in
them only the rude moral of virtue rewarded and vice punished. But
children will soon discover for themselves that in real life all
beautiful people are not good, nor all ugly ones wicked; that every
elder sister is not ungenerous, nor every stepmother cruel. And the
tender baby-heart is often reached quite as soon by the fancy as by
the reason. Nevertheless, without any direct appeal to conscience or
morality, the Editor of this collection has been especially careful
that there should be nothing in it which could really harm a child.
She trusts that, whatever its defects, the Fairy Book will not deserve
one criticism, almost the sharpest that can be given to any
work--"that it would have been better if the author had taken more
pains."
* * * * *
CONTENTS.
THE SLEEPING BEAUTY IN THE WOOD
HOP-O'-MY-THUMB
CINDERELLA; OR, THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER
ADVENTURES OF JOHN DIETRICH
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST
LITTLE ONE EYE, LITTLE TWO EYES, AND LITTLE THREE EYES
JACK THE GIANT KILLER
TOM THUMB
RUMPELSTILZCHEN
FORTUNATUS
THE BREMEN TOWN MUSICIANS
RIQUET WITH THE TUFT
HOUSE ISLAND
SNOW-WHITE AND ROSE RED
JACK AND THE BEAN-STALK
GRACIOSA AND PERCINET
THE IRON STOVE
THE INVISIBLE PRINCE
THE WOODCUTTER'S DAUGHTER
BROTHER AND SISTER
LITTLE RED-RIDING-HOOD
PUSS IN BOOTS
THE WOLF AND THE SEVEN YOUNG GOSLINGS
THE FAIR ONE WITH GOLDEN LOOKS
THE BUTTERFLY
THE FROG-PRINCE
THE WHITE CAT
PRINCE CHERRY
LITTLE SNOWDROP
THE BLUE BIRD
THE YELLOW DWARF
THE SIX SWANS
THE PRINCE WITH THE NOSE
THE HIND OF THE FOREST
THE JUNIPER TREE
CLEVER ALICE
* * * * *
THE
SLEEPING BEAUTY IN THE WOOD.
Once there was a royal couple who grieved excessively because they had
no children. When at last, after long waiting, the queen presented her
husband with a little daughter, his majesty showed his joy by giving a
christening feast, so grand that the like of it was never known. He
invited all the fairies in the land--there were seven altogether--to
stand godmothers to the little princess; hoping that each might bestow
on her some good gift, as was the custom of good fairies in those
days.
After the ceremony, all the guests returned to the palace, where there
was set before each fairy-godmother a magnificent covered dish, with
an embroidered table-napkin, and a knife and fork of pure gold,
studded with diamonds and rubies. But alas! as they placed themselves
at table, there entered an old fairy who had never been invited,
because more than fifty years since she had left the king's dominion
on a tour of pleasure, and had not been heard of until this day. His
majesty, much troubled, desired a cover to be placed for her, but it
was of common delf, for he had ordered from his jeweller only seven
gold dishes for the seven fairies aforesaid. The elderly fairy thought
herself neglected, and muttered angry menaces, which were overheard by
one of the younger fairies, who chanced to sit beside her. This good
godmother, afraid of harm to the pretty baby, hastened to hide herself
behind the tapestry in the hall. She did this, because she wished all
the others to speak first--so that if any ill gift were bestowed on
the child, she might be able to counteract it.
The six now offered their good wishes--which, unlike most wishes, were
sure to come true. The fortunate little princess was to grow up the
fairest woman in the world; to have a temper sweet as an angel; to be
perfectly graceful and gracious; to sing like a nightingale; to dance
like a leaf on a tree; and to possess every accomplishment under the
sun. Then the old fairy's turn came. Shaking her head spitefully, she
uttered the wish that when the baby grew up into a young lady, and
learned to spin, she might prick her finger with the spindle and die
of the wound.
At this terrible prophecy all the guests shuddered; and some of the
more tender-hearted began to weep. The lately happy parents were
almost out of their wits with grief. Upon which the wise young fairy
appeared from behind the tapestry, saying cheerfully "Your majesties
may comfort yourselves; the princess shall not die. I have no power
to alter the ill-fortune just wished her by my ancient sister--her
finger must be pierced; and she shall then sink, not into the sleep of
death, but into a sleep that will last a hundred years. After that
time is ended, the son of a king will find her, awaken her, and marry
her."
Immediately all the fairies vanished.
The king, in the hope of avoiding his daughter's doom, issued an
edict, forbidding all persons to spin, and even to have
spinning-wheels in their houses, on pain of instant death. But it was
in vain. One day, when she was just fifteen years of age, the king and
queen left their daughter alone in one of their castles, when,
wandering about at her will, she came to an ancient donjon tower,
climbed to the top of it, and there found a very old woman--so old and
deaf that she had never heard of the king's edict--busy with her
wheel.
"What are you doing, good old woman?" said the princess.
"I'm spinning, my pretty child."
"Ah, how charming! Let me try if I can spin also."
She had no sooner taken up the spindle than, being lively and
obstinate, she handled it so awkwardly and carelessly that the point
pierced her finger. Though it was so small a wound, she fainted away
at once, and dropped silently down on the floor. The poor frightened
old woman called for help; shortly came the ladies in waiting, who
tried every means to restore their young mistress, but all their care
was useless. She lay, beautiful as an angel, the colour still
lingering in her lips and cheeks; her fair bosom softly stirred with
her breath: only her eyes were fast closed. When the king her father
and the queen her mother beheld her thus, they knew regret was
idle--all had happened as the cruel fairy meant. But they also knew
that their daughter would not sleep for ever, though after one hundred
years it was not likely they would either of them behold her
awakening. Until that happy hour should arrive, they determined to
leave her in repose. They sent away all the physicians and attendants,
and themselves sorrowfully laid her upon a bed of embroidery, in the
most elegant apartment of the palace. There she slept and looked like
a sleeping angel still.
When this misfortune happened, the kindly young fairy who had saved
the princess by changing her sleep of death into this sleep of a
hundred years, was twelve thousand leagues away in the kingdom of
Mataquin. But being informed of everything, she arrived speedily, in a
chariot of fire drawn by dragons. The king was somewhat startled by
the sight, but nevertheless went to the door of his palace, and, with
a mournful countenance, presented her his hand to descend.
The fairy condoled with his majesty, and approved of all he had done.
Then, being a fairy of great common sense and foresight, she suggested
that the princess, awakening after a hundred years in this ancient
castle, might be a good deal embarrassed, especially with a young
prince by her side, to find herself alone. Accordingly, without asking
any one's leave, she touched with her magic wand the entire population
of the palace--except the king and queen; governesses, ladies of
honour, waiting-maids, gentlemen ushers, cooks, kitchen-girls, pages,
footmen--down to the horses that were in the stables, and the grooms
that attended them, she touched each and all. Nay, with kind
consideration for the feelings of the princess, she even touched the
little fat lap-dog, Puffy, who had laid himself down beside his
mistress on her splendid bed. He, like all the rest, fell fast asleep
in a moment. The very spits that were before the kitchen-fire ceased
turning, and the fire itself went out, and everything became as silent
as if it were the middle of the night, or as if the palace were a
palace of the dead.
The king and queen--having kissed their daughter and wept over her a
little, but not much, she looked so sweet and content--departed from
the castle, giving orders that it was to be approached no more. The
command was unnecessary; for in one quarter of an hour there sprung up
around it a wood so thick and thorny that neither beasts nor men could
attempt to penetrate there. Above this dense mass of forest could only
be perceived the top of the high tower where the lovely princess
slept.
A great many changes happen in a hundred years. The king, who never
had a second child, died, and his throne passed into another royal
family. So entirely was the story of the poor princess forgotten, that
when the reigning king's son, being one day out hunting and stopped in
the chase by this formidable wood, inquired what wood it was and what
were those towers which he saw appearing out of the midst of it, no
one could answer him. At length an old peasant was found who
remembered having heard his grandfather say to his father, that in
this tower was a princess, beautiful as the day, who was doomed to
sleep there for one hundred years, until awakened by a king's son, her
destined bridegroom.
At this, the young prince, who had the spirit of a hero, determined to
find out the truth for himself. Spurred on by both generosity and
curiosity, he leaped from his horse and began to force his way through
the thick wood. To his amazement the stiff branches all gave way, and
the ugly thorns sheathed themselves of their own accord, and the
brambles buried themselves in the earth to let him pass. This done,
they closed behind him, allowing none of his suite to follow: but,
ardent and young, he went boldly on alone. The first thing he saw was
enough to smite him with fear. Bodies of men and horses lay extended
on the ground; but the men had faces, not death-white, but red as
peonies, and beside them were glasses half filled with wine, showing
that they had gone to sleep drinking. Next he entered a large court,
paved with marble, where stood rows of guards presenting arms, but
motionless as if cut out of stone; then he passed through many
chambers where gentlemen and ladies, all in the costume of the past
century, slept at their ease, some standing, some sitting. The pages
were lurking in corners, the ladies of honour were stooping over their
embroidery frames, or listening apparently with polite attention to
the gentlemen of the court, but all were as silent as statues and as
immoveable. Their clothes, strange to say, were fresh and new as ever:
and not a particle of dust or spider-web had gathered over the
furniture, though it had not known a broom for a hundred years.
Finally the astonished prince came to an inner chamber, where was the
fairest sight his eyes had ever beheld.
A young girl of wonderful beauty lay asleep on an embroidered bed, and
she looked as if she had only just closed her eyes. Trembling, the
prince approached and knelt beside her. Some say he kissed her, but as
nobody saw it, and she never told, we cannot be quite sure of the
fact. However, as the end of the enchantment had come, the princess
awakened at once, and looking at him with eyes of the tenderest
regard, said drowsily, "Is it you, my prince? I have waited for you
very long."
Charmed with these words, and still more with the tone in which they
were uttered, the prince assured her that he loved her more than his
life. Nevertheless, he was the most embarrassed of the two; for,
thanks to the kind fairy, the princess had plenty of time to dream of
him during her century of slumber, while he had never even heard of
her till an hour before. For a long time did they sit conversing, and
yet had not said half enough. Their only interruption was the little
dog Puffy, who had awakened with his mistress, and now began to be
exceedingly jealous that the princess did not notice him as much as
she was wont to do.
Meantime all the attendants, whose enchantment was also broken, not
being in love, were ready to die of hunger after their fast of a
hundred years. A lady of honour ventured to intimate that dinner was
served; whereupon the prince handed his beloved princess at once to
the great hall. She did not wait to dress for dinner, being already
perfectly and magnificently attired, though in a fashion somewhat out
of date. However, her lover had the politeness not to notice this, nor
to remind her that she was dressed exactly like her royal grandmother,
whose portrait still hung on the palace walls.
During the banquet a concert took place by the attendant musicians,
and considering they had not touched their instruments for a century
they played extremely well. They ended with a wedding march: for that
very evening the marriage of the prince and princess was celebrated,
and though the bride was nearly one hundred years older than the
bridegroom, it is remarkable that the fact would never have been
discovered by any one unacquainted therewith.
After a few days they went together out of the castle and enchanted
wood, both of which immediately vanished, and were never more beheld
by mortal eyes. The princess was restored to her ancestral kingdom,
but it was not generally declared who she was, as during a hundred
years people had grown so very much cleverer that nobody then living
would ever have believed the story. So nothing was explained, and
nobody presumed to ask any questions about her, for ought not a prince
be able to marry whomsoever he pleases?
Nor--whether or not the day of fairies was over--did the princess ever
see anything further of her seven godmothers. She lived a long and
happy life, like any other ordinary woman, and died at length,
beloved, regretted, but, the prince being already no more, perfectly
contented.
HOP-O'-MY-THUMB.
There once lived in a village a faggot-maker and his wife, who had
seven children, all boys; the eldest was no more than ten years old,
and the youngest was only seven.
It was odd enough, to be sure, that they should have so many children
in such a short time; but the truth is, the wife always brought him
two and once three at a time. This made him very poor, for not one of
these boys was old enough to get a living, and what was still worse,
the youngest was a puny little fellow who hardly ever spoke a word.
Now this, indeed, was a mark of his good sense, but it made his father
and mother suppose him to be silly, and they thought that at last he
would turn out quite a fool. This boy was the least size ever seen;
for when he was born he was no bigger than a man's thumb, which made
him be christened by the name of Hop-o'-my-thumb. The poor child was
the drudge of the whole house and always bore the blame of everything
that was done wrong. For all this, Hop-o'-my-thumb was far more clever
than any of his brothers; and though he spoke but little, he heard and
knew more than people thought. It happened just at this time, that for
want of rain the fields had grown but half as much corn and potatoes
as they used to grow; so that the faggot-maker and his wife could not
give the boys the food they had before, which was always either bread
or potatoes.
After the father and mother had grieved some time, they thought that
as they could contrive no other way to live, they must somehow get rid
of their children. One night when the boys were gone to bed, and the
faggot-maker and his wife were sitting over a few lighted sticks, to
warm themselves, the husband sighed deeply, and said, "You see, my
dear, we cannot maintain our children any longer, and to see them die
of hunger before my eyes is what I could never bear. I will,
therefore, to-morrow morning take them to the forest, and leave them
in the thickest part of it, so that they will not be able to find
their way back: this will be very easy; for while they amuse
themselves with tying up the faggots, we need only slip away when they
are looking some other way."
"Ah! husband," cried the poor wife, "you cannot, no, you never can
consent to be the death of your own children."
The husband in vain told her to think how very poor they were.
The wife replied "that this was true, to be sure; but if she was poor,
she was still their mother;" and then she cried as if her heart would
break. At last she thought how shocking it would be to see them
starved to death before their eyes; so she agreed to what her husband
had said, and then went sobbing to bed.
Hop-o'-my-thumb had been awake all the time; and when he heard his
father talk very seriously, he slipped away from his brothers' side,
and crept under his father's bed, to hear all that was said without
being seen.
When his father and mother had left off talking, he got back to his
own place, and passed the night in thinking what he should do the next
morning.
He rose early, and ran to the river's side, where he filled his
pockets with small white pebbles, and then went back home. In the
morning they all set out, as their father and mother had agreed on;
and Hop-o'-my-thumb did not say a word to any of his brothers about
what he had heard. They came to a forest that was so very thick that
they could not see each other a few yards off. The faggot-maker set to
work cutting down wood; and the children began to gather the twigs, to
make faggots of them.
When the father and mother saw that the young ones were all very busy,
they slipped away without being seen. The children soon found
themselves alone, and began to cry as loud as they could.
Hop-o'-my-thumb let them cry on, for he knew well enough how to lead
them safe home, an he had taken care to drop the white pebbles he had
in his pocket along all the way he had come. He only said to them,
"Never mind it, my lads: father and mother have left us here by
ourselves, but only take care to follow me, and I will lead you back
again."
When they heard this they left off crying, and followed
Hop-o'-my-thumb, who soon brought them to their father's house by the
very same path which they had come along. At first they had not the
courage to go in; but stood at the door to hear what their parents
were talking about. Just as the faggot-maker and his wife had come
home without their children, a great gentleman of the village sent to
pay them two guineas, for work they had done for him, which he had
owed them so long that they never thought of getting a farthing of it.
This money made them quite happy; for the poor creatures were very
hungry, and had no other way of getting anything to eat.
The faggot-maker sent his wife out immediately to buy some meat; and
as it was a long time since she had made a hearty meal, she bought as
much meat as would have been enough for six or eight persons. The
truth was, when she was thinking what would be enough for dinner, she
forgot that her children were not at home; but as soon as she and her
husband had done eating, she cried out, "Alas! where are our poor
children? how they would feast on what we have left! It was all your
fault, husband! I told you we should repent leaving them to starve in
the forest!--Oh mercy! perhaps they have already been eaten by the
hungry wolves!" The poor woman shed plenty of tears: "Alas! alas!"
said she, over and over again, "what is become of my dear children?"
The children, who were all at the door, cried out together, "Here we
are, mother, here we are!"
She flew like lightning to let them in, and kissed every one of them.
The faggot-maker and his wife were charmed at having their children
once more with them, and their joy for this lasted till their money
was all spent; but then they found themselves quite as ill off as
before. So by degrees they again thought of leaving them in the
forest: and that the young ones might not come back a second time,
they said they would take them a great deal farther than they did at
first. They could not talk about this matter so slily but that
Hop-o'-my-thumb found means to hear all that passed between them; but
he cared very little about it, for he thought it would be easy for him
to do just the same as he had done before. But though he got up very
early the next morning to go to the river's side to get the pebbles, a
thing which he had not thought of hindered him; for he found that the
house-door was double-locked. Hop-o'-my-thumb was now quite at a loss
what to do; but soon after this, his mother gave each of the children
a piece of bread for breakfast, and then it came into his head that he
could make his share do as well as the pebbles, by dropping crumbs of
it all the way as he went. So he did not eat his piece, but put it
into his pocket.
It was not long before they all set out, and their parents took care
to lead them into the very thickest and darkest part of the forest.
They then slipped away by a by-path as before, and left the children
by themselves again. All this did not give Hop-o'-my-thumb any
concern, for he thought himself quite sure of getting back by means
of the crumbs that he had dropped by the way; but when he came to look
for them he found that not a crumb was left, for the birds had eaten
them all up.
The poor children were now sadly off, for the further they went the
harder it was for them to get out of the forest. At last night came
on, and the noise of the wind among the trees seemed to them like the
howling of wolves, so that every moment they thought they should be
eaten up. They hardly dared to speak a word, or to move a limb, for
fear. Soon after there came a heavy rain, which wetted them to the
very skin, and made the ground so slippery, that they fell down almost
at every step, and got dirty all over.
Before it was quite dark, Hop-o'-my-thumb climbed up to the top of a
tree, and looked round on all sides to see if he could find any way of
getting help. He saw a small light, like that of a candle, but it was
a very great way off, and beyond the forest. He then came down from
the tree, to try to find the way to it; but he could not see it when
he was on the ground, and he was in the utmost trouble what to do
next. They walked on towards the place where he had seen the light,
and at last reached the end of the forest, and got sight of it again.
They now walked faster; and after being much tired and vexed (for
every time they got into lower ground they lost sight of the light),
came to the house it was in. They knocked at the door, which was
opened by a very good-natured-looking lady, who asked what brought
them there. Hop-o'-my-thumb told her that they were poor children, who
had lost their way in the forest, and begged that she would give them
a bed till morning. When the lady saw that they had such pretty faces,
she began to shed tears and said, "Ah! my poor children, you do not
know what place you are come to. This is the house of an Ogre, who
eats up little boys and girls."
"Alas! madam," replied Hop-o'-my-thumb, who trembled from head to
foot, "what shall we do? If we go back to the forest, we are sure of
being torn to pieces by the wolves; we would rather, therefore, be
eaten by the gentleman: besides, when he sees us, perhaps he may take
pity on us and spare our lives."
The Ogre's wife thought she could contrive to hide them from her
husband till morning; so she let them go in and warm themselves by a
good fire, before which there was a whole sheep roasting for the
Ogre's supper. When they had stood a short time by the fire, there
came a loud knocking at the door: this was the Ogre come home. His
wife hurried the children under the bed, and told them to lie still,
and she then let her husband in.
The Ogre asked if supper were ready, and if the wine were fetched from
the cellar; and then he sat down at the table. The sheep was not quite
done, but he liked it much better half raw. In a minute or two the
Ogre began to snuff to his right and left, and said he smelt child's
flesh.
"It must be this calf which has just been killed," said his wife.
"I smell child's flesh, I tell thee once more," cried the Ogre,
looking all about the room; "I smell child's flesh; there is something
going on that I do not know of."
As soon as he had spoken these words, he rose from his chair and went
towards the bed.
"Ah! madam," said he, "you thought to cheat me, did you? Wretch! thou
art old and tough thyself, or else I would eat thee up too! But come,
come, this is lucky enough; for the brats will make a nice dish for
three Ogres, who are my particular friends, and who are to dine with
me to-morrow."
He then drew them out one by one from under the bed. The poor children
fell on their knees and begged his pardon as humbly as they could; but
this Ogre was the most cruel of all Ogres, and instead of feeling any
pity, he only began to think how sweet and tender their flesh would
be; so he told his wife they would be nice morsels, if she served them
up with plenty of sauce. He then fetched a large knife, and began to
sharpen it on a long whetstone that he held in his left hand; and all
the while he came nearer and nearer to the bed. The Ogre took up one
of the children, and was going to set about cutting him to pieces; but
his wife said to him, "What in the world makes you take the trouble of
killing them to-night? Will it not be time enough to-morrow morning?"
"Hold your prating," replied the Ogre; "they will grow tender by being
kept a little while after they are killed."
"But," said his wife, "you have got so much meat in the house already;
here is a calf, two sheep and half a pig."
"True," said the Ogre, "so give them all a good supper, that they may
not get lean, and then send them to bed."
The good creature was quite glad at this. She gave them plenty for
their supper, but the poor children were so terrified that they could
not eat a bit.
The Ogre sat down to his wine, very much pleased with the thought of
giving his friends such a dainty dish: this made him drink rather more
than common, and he was soon obliged to go to bed himself. Now the
Ogre had seven daughters, who were all very young like Hop-o'-my-thumb
and his brothers. These young Ogresses had fair skins, because they
fed on raw meat like their father; but they had small grey eyes, quite
round, and sunk in their heads, hooked noses, wide mouths, and very
long sharp teeth standing a great way off each other. They were too
young as yet to do much mischief; but they showed that if they lived
to be as old as their father, they would grow quite as cruel as he
was, for they took pleasure already in biting young children, and
sucking their blood. The Ogresses had been put to bed very early that
night; they were all in one bed, which was very large, and every one
of them had a crown of gold on her head. There was another bed of the
same size in the room, and in this the Ogre's wife put the seven
little boys, and then went to bed herself along with her husband.
Now Hop-o'-my-thumb was afraid that the Ogre would wake in the night
and kill him and his brothers while they were asleep. So he got out of
bed in the middle of the night as softly as he could, took off all his
brothers' nightcaps and his own, and crept with them to the bed that
the Ogre's daughters were in: he then took off their crowns, and put
the nightcaps on their heads instead: next he put the crowns on his
brothers' heads and his own, and got into bed again; expecting, after
this, that, if the Ogre should come, he would take him and his
brothers for his own children. Everything turned out as he wished. The
Ogre waked soon after midnight, and began to be very sorry that he had
put off killing the boys till the morning: so he jumped out of bed,
and took hold of his large knife. "Let us see," said he, "what the
young rogues are about, and do the business at once!" He then walked
softly to the room where they all slept, and went up to the bed the
boys were in, who were all asleep except Hop-o'-my-thumb. He touched
their heads one at a time, and feeling the crowns of gold, said to
himself, "Oh, oh! I had like to have made such a mistake. I must have
drunk too much wine last night."
He went next to the bed that his own little Ogresses were in, and when
he felt the nightcaps, he said, "Ah! here you are, my lads:" and so in
a moment he cut the throats of all his daughters.
He was very much pleased when he had done this, and then went back to
his own bed. As soon as Hop-o'-my-thumb heard him snore, he awoke his
brothers, and told them to put on their clothes quickly, and follow
him. They stole down softly into the garden, and then jumped from the
wall into the road: they ran as fast as their legs could carry them,
but were so much afraid all the while, that they hardly knew which way
to take. When the Ogre waked in the morning, he said to his wife,
grinning, "My dear, go and dress the young rogues I saw last night."
The wife was quite surprised at hearing her husband speak so kindly,
and did not dream of the real meaning of his words. She supposed he
wanted her to help them to put on their clothes; so she went upstairs,
and the first thing she saw was her seven daughters with their throats
cut and all over blood. This threw her into a fainting fit. The Ogre
was afraid his wife might be too long in doing what he had set her
about, so he went himself to help her; but he was as much shocked as
she had been at the dreadful sight of his bleeding children. "Ah! what
have I done?" he cried; "but the little rascals shall pay for it, I
warrant them."
He first threw some water on his wife's face; and, as soon as she came
to herself, he said to her: "Bring me quickly my seven-league boots,
that I may go and catch the little vipers."
The Ogre then put on these boots, and set out with all speed. He
strided over many parts of the country, and at last turned into the
very road in which the poor children were. For they had set off
towards the faggot-maker's cottage, which they had almost reached.
They watched the Ogre stepping from mountain to mountain at one step,
and crossing rivers as if they had been tiny brooks. At this
Hop-o'-my-thumb thought a little what was to be done; and spying a
hollow place under a large rock, he made his brothers get into it. He
then crept in himself, but kept his eye fixed on the Ogre, to see what
he would do next.
The Ogre found himself quite weary with the journey he had gone, for
seven-league boots are very tiresome to the person who wears them; so
he now began to think of resting, and happened to sit down on the very
rock where the poor children were hid. As he was so tired, and it was
a very hot day, he fell fast asleep, and soon began to snore so loud,
that the little fellows were terrified.
When Hop-o'-my-thumb saw this he said to his brothers, "Courage, my
lads! never fear! you have nothing to do but to steal away and get
home while the Ogre is fast asleep, and leave me to shift for myself."
The brothers now were very glad to do whatever he told them, and so
they soon came to their father's house. In the mean time
Hop-o'-my-thumb went up to the Ogre softly, pulled off his
seven-league boots very gently, and put them on his own legs: for
though the boots were very large, yet being fairy-boots, they could
make themselves small enough to fit any leg they pleased.
As soon as ever Hop-o'-my-thumb had made sure of the Ogre's
seven-league boots, he went at once to the palace, and offered his
services to carry orders from the king to his army, which was a great
way off, and to bring back the quickest accounts of the battle they
were just at that time fighting with the enemy. In short, he thought
he could be of more use to the king than all his mail coaches, and so
should make his fortune in this manner. He succeeded so well, that in
a short time he made money enough to keep himself, his father, mother,
and six brothers, without the trouble of working, for the rest of
their lives. Having done this, he went back to his father's cottage,
where all the family were delighted to see him again. As the great
fame of his boots had been talked of at court in this time, the king
sent for him, and indeed employed him very often in the greatest
affairs of the state, so that he became one of the richest men in the
kingdom.
And now let us see what became of the wicked Ogre. He slept so soundly
that he never discovered the loss of his boots; but having an evil
conscience and bad dreams, he fell in his sleep from the corner of the
rock where Hop-o'-my-thumb and his brothers had left him, and bruised
himself so much from head to foot, that he could not stir: so he was
forced to stretch himself out at full length, and wait for some one to
come and help him.
Now a good many faggot-makers passed near the place where the Ogre
lay; and, when they heard him groan, they went up to ask him what was
the matter. But the Ogre had eaten such a great number of children in
his lifetime, that he had grown so very big and fat that these men
could not even have carried one of his legs; so they were forced to
leave him there. At last night came on, and then a large serpent came
out of a wood just by, and stung him, so that he died in great pain.
By and by, Hop-o'-my-thumb, who had become the king's first favourite,
heard of the Ogre's death; and the first thing he did was to tell his
majesty all that the good-natured Ogress had done to save the lives of
himself and brothers. The king was so much pleased at what he heard,
that he asked Hop-o'-my-thumb if there was any favour he could bestow
upon her? Hop-o'-my-thumb thanked the king, and desired that the
Ogress might have the noble title of Duchess of Draggletail given to
her; which was no sooner asked than granted. The Ogress then came to
court, and lived very happily for many years, enjoying the vast
fortune she had found in the Ogre's chests. As for Hop-o'-my-thumb, he
every day grew more witty and brave; till at last the king made him
the greatest lord in the kingdom, and set him over all his affairs.
CINDERELLA
OR,
The Little Glass Slipper.
There was once an honest gentle man who took for his second wife a
lady, the proudest and most disagreeable in the whole country. She had
two daughters exactly like herself in all things. He also had one
little girl, who resembled her dead mother, the best woman in all the
world. Scarcely had the second marriage taken place, than the
stepmother became jealous of the good qualities of the little girl,
who was so great a contrast to her own two daughters. She gave her all
the menial occupations of the house; compelled her to wash the floors
and staircases, to dust the bed-rooms, and clean the grates; and while
her sisters occupied carpeted chambers hung with mirrors, where they
could see themselves from head to foot, this poor little damsel was
sent to sleep in an attic, on an old straw mattress, with only one
chair and not a looking-glass in the room.
She suffered all in silence, not daring to complain to her father, who
was entirely ruled by his new wife. When her daily work was done she
used to sit down in the chimney-corner among the ashes; from which the
two sisters gave her the nick-name of _Cinderella_. But Cinderella,
however shabbily clad, was handsomer than they were with all their
fine clothes.
It happened that the king's son gave a series of balls, to which were
invited all the rank and fashion of the city, and among the rest the
two elder sisters. They were very proud and happy, and occupied their
whole time in deciding what they should wear; a source of new trouble
to Cinderella, whose duty it was to get up their fine linen and laces,
and who never could please them however much she tried. They talked of
nothing but their clothes.
"I," said the elder, "shall wear my velvet gown and my trimmings of
English lace."
"And I," added the younger, "will have but my ordinary silk petticoat,
but I shall adorn it with an upper skirt of flowered brocade, and
shall put on my diamond tiara, which is a great deal finer than
anything of yours."
Here the elder sister grew angry, and the dispute began to run so
high, that Cinderella, who was known to have excellent taste, was
called upon to decide between them. She gave them the best advice she
could, and gently and submissively offered to dress them herself, and
especially to arrange their hair, an accomplishment in which she
excelled many a noted coiffeur. The important evening came, and she
exercised all her skill to adorn the two young ladies. While she was
combing out the elder's hair, this ill-natured girl said sharply,
"Cinderella, do you not wish you were going to the ball?"
"Ah, madam" (they obliged her always to say madam), "you are only
mocking me; it is not my fortune to have any such pleasure."
"You are right; people would only laugh to see a little cinder-wench
at a ball."
Any other than Cinderella would have dressed the hair all awry, but
she was good, and dressed it perfectly even and smooth, and as
prettily as she could.
The sisters had scarcely eaten for two days, and had broken a dozen
stay-laces a day, in trying to make themselves slender; but to-night
they broke a dozen more, and lost their tempers over and over again
before they had completed their toilette. When at last the happy
moment arrived, Cinderella followed them to the coach; after it had
whirled them away, she sat down by the kitchen fire and cried.
Immediately her godmother, who was a fairy, appeared beside her. "What
are you crying for, my little maid?"
"Oh, I wish--I wish--" Her sobs stopped her.
"You wish to go to the ball; isn't it so?"
Cinderella nodded.
"Well, then, be a good girl, and you shall go. First run into the
garden and fetch me the largest pumpkin you can find."
Cinderella did not comprehend what this had to do with her going to
the ball, but being obedient and obliging, she went. Her godmother
took the pumpkin, and having scooped out all its inside, struck it
with her wand; it became a splendid gilt coach, lined with
rose-coloured satin.
"Now fetch me the mouse-trap out of the pantry, my dear."
Cinderella brought it; it contained six of the fattest, sleekest mice.
The fairy lifted up the wire door, and as each mouse ran out she
struck it and changed it into a beautiful black horse.
"But what shall I do for your coachman, Cinderella?"
Cinderella suggested that she had seen a large black rat in the
rat-trap, and he might do for want of better.
"You are right; go and look again for him."
He was found, and the fairy made him into a most respectable coachman,
with the finest whiskers imaginable. She afterwards took six lizards
from behind the pumpkin frame, and changed them into six footmen, all
in splendid livery, who immediately jumped up behind the carriage, as
if they had been footmen all their days. "Well, Cinderella, now you
can go to the ball."
"What, in these clothes?" said Cinderella piteously, looking down on
her ragged frock.
Her godmother laughed, and touched her also with the wand; at which
her wretched thread-bare jacket became stiff with gold, and sparkling
with jewels; her woollen petticoat lengthened into a gown of sweeping
satin, from underneath which peeped out her little feet, no longer
bare, but covered with silk stockings, and the prettiest glass
slippers in the world. "Now Cinderella, depart; but remember, if you
stay one instant after midnight, your carriage will become a pumpkin,
your coachman a rat, your horses mice, and your footmen lizards; while
you yourself will be the little cinder-wench you were an hour ago."
Cinderella promised without fear, her heart was so full of joy.
Arrived at the palace, the king's son, whom some one, probably the
fairy, had told to await the coming of an uninvited princess whom
nobody knew, was standing at the entrance, ready to receive her. He
offered her his hand, and led her with the utmost courtesy through the
assembled guests, who stood aside to let her pass, whispering to one
another, "Oh, how beautiful she is!" It might have turned the head of
any one but poor Cinderella, who was so used to be despised, that she
took it all as if it were something happening in a dream.
Her triumph was complete; even the old king said to the queen, that
never since her majesty's young days had he seen so charming and
elegant a person. All the court ladies, scanned her eagerly, clothes
and all, determining to have theirs made next day of exactly the same
pattern. The king's son himself led her out to dance, and she danced
so gracefully that he admired her more and more. Indeed, at supper,
which was fortunately early, his admiration quite took away his
appetite. For Cinderella herself, with an involuntary shyness she
sought out her sisters; placed herself beside them and offered them
all sorts of civil attentions, which, coming as they supposed from a
stranger, and so magnificent a lady, almost overwhelmed them with
delight.
While she was talking with them, she heard the clock strike a quarter
to twelve, and making a courteous adieu to the royal family, she
re-entered her carriage, escorted tenderly by the king's son, and
arrived in safety at her own door. There she found her godmother, who
smiled approval; and of whom she begged permission to go to a second
ball, the following night, to which the queen had earnestly invited
her.
While she was talking, the two sisters were heard knocking at the
gate, and the fairy godmother vanished, leaving Cinderella sitting in
the chimney-corner, rubbing her eyes and pretending to be very sleepy.
"Ah," cried the eldest sister maliciously, "it has been the most
delightful ball, and there was present the most beautiful princess I
ever saw, who was so exceedingly polite to us both."
"Was she?" said Cinderella indifferently; "and who might she be?"
"Nobody knows, though everybody would give their eyes to know,
especially the king's son."
"Indeed!" replied Cinderella, a little more interested; "I should like
to see her. Miss Javotte"--that was the elder sister's name--"will you
not let me go to-morrow, and lend me your yellow gown that you wear on
Sundays?"
"What, lend my yellow gown to a cinder-wench! I am not so mad as
that;" at which refusal Cinderella did not complain, for if her sister
really had lent her the gown she would have been considerably
embarrassed.
The next night came, and the two young ladies richly dressed in
different toilettes, went to the ball. Cinderella, more splendidly
attired and beautiful than ever, followed them shortly after. "Now
remember twelve o'clock," was her godmother's parting speech; and she
thought she certainly should. But the prince's attentions to her were
greater even than the first evening, and in the delight of listening
to his pleasant conversation, time slipped by unperceived. While she
was sitting beside him in a lovely alcove, and looking at the moon
from under a bower of orange blossoms, she heard a clock strike the
first stroke of twelve. She started up, and fled away as lightly as a
deer.
Amazed, the prince followed, but could not catch her. Indeed he missed
his lovely princess altogether, and only saw running out of the palace
doors a little dirty lass whom he had never beheld before, and of whom
he certainly would never have taken the least notice, Cinderella
arrived at home breathless and weary, ragged and cold, without
carriage, or footmen, or coachman; the only remnant of her past
magnificence being one of her little glass slippers;--the other she
had dropped in the ball-room as she ran away.
When the two sisters returned they were full of this strange
adventure, how the beautiful lady had appeared at the ball more
beautiful than ever, and enchanted every one who looked at her; and
how as the clock was striking twelve she had suddenly risen up and
fled through the ball-room, disappearing no one knew how or where, and
dropping one of her glass slippers behind her in her flight. How the
king's son had remained inconsolable until he chanced to pick up the
little glass slipper, which he carried away in his pocket, and was
seen to take it out continually, and look at it affectionately, with
the air of a man very much in love; in fact, from his behaviour during
the remainder of the evening, all the court and royal family were
convinced that he had become desperately enamoured of the wearer of
the little glass slipper.
Cinderella listened in silence, turning her face to the kitchen fire,
and perhaps it was that which made her look so rosy, but nobody ever
noticed or admired her at home, so it did not signify, and next
morning she went to her weary work again just as before.
A few days after, the whole city was attracted by the sight of a
herald going round with a little glass slipper in his hand,
publishing, with a flourish of trumpets, that the king's son ordered
this to be fitted on the foot of every lady in the kingdom, and that
he wished to marry the lady whom it fitted best, or to whom it and the
fellow slipper belonged. Princesses, duchesses, countesses, and simple
gentlewomen all tried it on, but being a fairy slipper, it fitted
nobody and beside, nobody could produce its fellow slipper, which lay
all the time safely in the pocket of Cinderella's old linsey gown.
At last the herald came to the house of the two sisters, and though
they well knew neither of themselves was the beautiful lady, they made
every attempt to get their clumsy feet into the glass slipper, but in
vain.
"Let me try it on," said Cinderella from the chimney corner.
"What, you?" cried the others, bursting into shouts of laughter; but
Cinderella only smiled, and held out her hand.
Her sisters could not prevent her, since the command was that every
young maiden in the city should try on the slipper, in order that no
chance might be left untried, for the prince was nearly breaking his
heart; and his father and mother were afraid that though a prince, he
would actually die for love of the beautiful unknown lady.
So the herald bade Cinderella sit down on a three-legged stool in the
kitchen, and himself put the slipper on her pretty little foot, which
it fitted exactly; she then drew from her pocket the fellow slipper,
which she also put on, and stood up--for with the touch of the magic
shoes all her dress was changed likewise--no longer the poor despised
cinder-wench, but the beautiful lady whom the king's son loved.
Her sisters recognized her at once. Filled with astonishment, mingled
with no little alarm, they threw themselves at her feet, begging her
pardon for all their former unkindness. She raised and embraced them:
told them she forgave them with all her heart, and only hoped they
would love her always. Then she departed with the herald to the king's
palace, and told her whole story to his majesty and the royal family,
who were not in the least surprised, for everybody believed in
fairies, and everybody longed to have a fairy godmother.
For the young prince, he found her more lovely and loveable than ever,
and insisted upon marrying her immediately. Cinderella never went home
again, but she sent for her two sisters to the palace, and with the
consent of all parties married them shortly after to two rich
gentlemen of the court.
ADVENTURES OF JOHN DIETRICH.
There once lived in Rambin, a town near the Baltic Sea, an honest,
industrious man named James Dietrich. He had several children, all of
a good disposition, especially the youngest, whose name was John. John
Dietrich was a handsome, smart boy, diligent at school, and obedient
at home. His great passion was for hearing stories, and whenever he
met any one who was well stored with such, he never let him go till he
had heard them all.