There was once a poor woodcutter, very miserable, though prudent and

industrious; he had a wife and three grown-up sons, yet their united

labours scarcely sufficed for bread. No hope appeared of improving his

lot, when he was one day fortunate enough to save the life of his

master when attacked by robbers in the forest.

This master was not ungrateful; he desired the woodcutter to repair to

him on the following day in order to receive a reward. The poor man

did not fail, hoping to gain two or three crowns; for it appeared so

natural to defend an unarmed man that he attached little value to his

services, considering his own danger not worth a thought. He put on

his best array, shaved, and made many reverences to the porter and the

numerous lackeys previous to an introduction to the master, who was

much more polite than the valets.

"Well, Thomas," said he, "how can I recompense what you have done for

me? Without your assistance I should have perished; and as my life is

a very happy one, I value it accordingly."

Poor Thomas was at a loss how to reply; he stammered out, "My

Lord--your Grace," but could get no further.

The master, in order to relieve the poor man, interrupted him thus: "I

understand better than yourself, perhaps, what would suit you; I would

not wish to draw you from your native condition, for I believe that

none is more truly happy; but I present to you and your children's

children, in perpetuity, the cottage which you inhabit in the forest.

You and they shall have the power of cutting as much wood every year

as you can use; you shall work for yourself; and if your sons like to

hunt, all the game which they kill shall be for their own use. I only

exact that you sell nothing, and that while possessing every comfort,

you seek not to quit your peaceful obscurity."

Thomas was so astonished that he could find no words to express his

gratitude. He came home to his wife, who heartily shared his joy. The

sons immediately set off for a large supply of faggots, and made a

great fire; but when they had been thoroughly warmed, Mother Thomas

began to say what a pity it was they could make no use of all the wood

which was not burned.

"An idea has just struck me," replied the husband; "our master gives

us all we can _use_; these are his own words,--very well; I shall be

able to use enough to bring us in a pretty little income!"

"How?" said his wife.

"When I was a boy," rejoined the woodcutter, "my father taught me to

make wooden shoes and I made them so light and so neat, that they were

everywhere sought for. What need now prevent me from exercising this

trade? James shall cut wood in the forest, Peter shall kill game for

dinner, and Paul, who has not the least brains of the three, shall go

to sell my merchandise at the neighbouring town. This will be a public

benefit, by enabling the poor about us to dress with more decency and

comfort, and it will also serve to furnish our own cottage, of which

we shall make a little palace."

The boys, who were present, highly relished this idea. Mother Thomas,

who was rather inclined to gluttony, made the most of the game which

Peter provided. A little labour, good cheer, a blazing fire, and

perfect family concord, rendered this family the happiest in the

world. The master came to the cottage, and seeing them so united and

industrious, encouraged the trade of the wooden shoes, which increased

their comforts without exposing them to the vices attendant on avarice

and luxury.

But happiness such as this seldom remains permanent. A flock of

furious wolves appeared in the forest; every day they devoured either

helpless children or travellers; they tore up the roots of the trees,

attacking even each other, while their wild howlings were heard night

and day in the cottage of the woodcutter.

Mother Thomas would no longer suffer her boys to leave home; and when

they did go in spite of her, she remained watching at the door

refusing either to eat or drink until they returned.

Such a situation was deplorable; when at length the young men, who

were very brave, resolved to deliver themselves and their master.

Taking arms, in case they should be attacked, they went into the

forest and digged deep pits, covering them with a little earth, laid

over some branches of trees; and during this heavy labour, which

lasted several days, they lighted great fires around them, in order to

hinder the wolves from approaching.

Success crowned their enterprise, for in returning to the spot at

sunrise, they perceived that one of the pits had been broken into

during the night, and that it was now quite uncovered. They charged

their muskets, and each were disputing the honour of first firing,

when they heard issue from the depths below, a mild and supplicating

voice imploring assistance.

"What shall we do?" said Peter; "assuredly that is not the roaring of

a wolf; it is, perhaps, some unfortunate little wandering child. How

lucky that we did not draw the trigger!"

They approached, and distinguished a beautiful lady richly dressed,

wearing on her head a cluster of diamonds, which shone like a star.

She appeared very young, and was trembling with cold. Much rain had

fallen during the night, and her robe, of silver gauze, was dabbled in

mud and water; her fair and tender hands were all dirty, which seemed

to vex her even more than the dangers she had experienced. She

continued, however, to struggle and to make signs for relief, when

three enormous wolves appeared at a distance. The brothers looked at

each other expressively, like people who feel that all is lost, but

who resolve to do their duty They had a cord about them, which Peter

fastened round his body, and let himself down into the pit. He took

the beautiful lady on his shoulders, while his brothers assisted in

drawing them up. They then stretched her on the grass, for she had

fainted; and now the wolves had just reached them,--when, lo! these

beasts of prey were instantly turned into three little lambs, and

licked the feet of the lady, who slowly returned to life.

"My good lads," said she to the woodcutters, "fear nothing. From

henceforth no more dangerous animals than these shall trouble you. But

I owe you a still greater recompense; lead me to your father; I wish

to felicitate him on the generosity and bravery of his sons."

The poor youths were so astonished by this adventure, that they felt

unable to reply; but they respectfully lifted her long train from the

ground, it having now recovered all its splendour.

The three lambs followed, skipping and frolicking before them--they

seemed to know the way; and Mother Thomas, who sat at the door looking

out for her children, was not a little surprised to behold their

companion.

She had, however, presence of mind to invite her noble guest to enter

and rest; much ashamed of having nothing better to offer than a straw

chair, and some spring-water, which was in a very clean pitcher on the

dresser.

"I shall willingly rest an hour with you," said the lady. "Although

you now see me for the first time, I am one of your best friends, of

which I shall give you a proof. I accept a glass of water, on

condition that your husband and children will also pledge me."

A glance of Mother Thomas's eye directed her family; they each sought

their ordinary drinking cup, which was of wood, and then bent the neck

of the pitcher; but what was their astonishment to perceive the vessel

turn into wrought-silver in their hands, and to taste, instead of

water, a liquor so delicious, that when the woodcutter and his wife

had drunk, they felt themselves ten years younger than before!

They threw themselves at the feet of the beautiful lady, in terror;

for a natural instinct made them feel that great power is always more

or less to be dreaded, even when employed in acts of beneficence. The

lady meanwhile kindly raised them, and having spoken of the courage

and generosity of their sons, who exposed themselves to the fury of

wolves rather than take flight and abandon her, she said that her name

was the Fairy Coquette, and that she would willingly relate her

history.

"Previously, madam," said the woodcutter, "will you have the goodness

to tell me, what is a fairy? During thirty years that I have inhabited

this forest, I have heard of the devil, of the Were wolf, of the

monster of Gévaudan, but never have I heard of fairies."

"We exist, notwithstanding," replied Coquette, "but not in all ages,

nor in all countries. We are supernatural beings, to whom has been

imparted a portion of supernatural power, which we make use of for

good or evil, according to our natural disposition; in that alone

consists our resemblance to men."

The woodcutter, who was very simple, understood little of this

explanation; but, like many others, had a profound respect for what he

could not comprehend. He bowed down to the ground, and only requested

the fairy to inform him, why a supernatural being, so highly gifted,

could have fallen into a pit prepared for wolves.

"It is," replied Coquette, "because I have an enemy still more

powerful than myself, the Enchanter Barabapatapouf, the most wicked

ogre in the world; he has but three teeth, three hairs, one eye, and

is fifteen feet high. With all these charms he happened to fall in

love with me, and merely for mischief I affected to accept him. He

then invited his friends to the nuptials; when, to his great

mortification, I took them to witness that I would never be the wife

of such a monster. Barabapatapouf was deeply incensed, swore to be

revenged, and has never lost an opportunity of keeping his word. I

should have remained three days in that horrible pit but for the

generosity of your children."

"They have done nothing more than their duty," replied the woodcutter.

"I must also do mine," said Coquette, "but my power is limited. I can

satisfy but two wishes, and it is necessary that each of you should

choose freely, unbiased by the other. You must separate accordingly,

and to-morrow at early dawn, come to inform me what you have all

resolved on during the night."

Mother Thomas was very uneasy in thinking how she could accommodate

the fairy, for neither her children's beds nor her own were worthy of

offering to such a grand lady; but Coquette desired her to feel at

ease, as she would provide everything needful. She then drew forth

some grains of sand, which she scattered on the floor. Instantly there

arose on the spot a bed of rose-leaves three feet high; the bolster

was of violets, heartsease and orange flowers, all breathing delicious

perfumes; and the counterpane, entirely composed of butterflies'

wings, exhibited colours so brilliant and varied that one could never

be weary of examining it. The three lambs which had followed the fairy

lay down at her feet, and as the room was rather damp, they gently

warmed it with their breath, with a care and intelligence almost

human. The woodcutter and his sons felt so surprised at all these

wonders, that they imagined themselves dreaming. Coquette warned

Mother Thomas that if she should speak once to her husband before she

again saw her, the wishes could not be realized. The strictest

injunctions were indeed necessary, to prevent their communicating on a

subject which interested both so deeply. When day appeared, Coquette

summoned them to her presence.

The woodcutter first came, and said, with his usual simplicity, that

he never could have believed it so difficult to form a wish. Till that

moment he had considered himself happy, but now finding it possible

to obtain one thing, he desired a thousand. Wearied with the fatigue

of thought, he had fallen asleep without coming to a determination;

but seeing in his dreams five purses filled with gold, it seemed as if

one were for him, one for his wife, and one for each of his children.

"Well," said the Coquette, "these purses are apparently your desire;

go then to the bin where you deposit your bread, and you will find

them. Only say how many pounds you wish them to contain."

"Oh, if there were but a hundred pounds in each," replied Thomas,

"that would be sufficient to extend our little commerce, and send our

wooden shoes to China itself."

"Your wish is accomplished," said the fairy; "go away, and permit your

wife to come in her turn."

The good dame had also passed a sleepless night, and had never before

been so much agitated or so unhappy; sometimes she wished for riches,

and then thought, riches would not prevent her from dying--so she had

better wish that she might live a hundred years. Now one idea filled

her mind, now another; it seemed as if the fairy should have given her

at least a month to deliberate. At last she suddenly said: "Madam

Fairy, I am very old, and what I desire most is a daughter, to assist

me in household management and to keep me company; my husband almost

lives in the woods and leaves me at break of day; my sons also go

about their business; we are without neighbours, and I have nobody to

speak to."

"Be it so," said the fairy; "you shall have the prettiest daughter

imaginable, and she shall speak from her birth, in order that no time

may be lost. Call your husband and sons; I hope to find all parties

content."

The little family assembled, but harmony was not the result of their

communications. The young men thought their father's wish quite

pitiful, and the woodcutter by no means relished the idea of another

child. The fairy, however, provided an excellent breakfast, and the

wine reanimated his spirits.

"Now I promise," said Coquette, "that you shall have a daughter, who

at the moment of her birth will be endowed with the figure and the

intelligence of twelve years old. Call her Rose, for her complexion

shall shame the flower which bears that name."

"And _I_ pronounce that she shall also be as black as ebony, and

become, before the age of fifteen, the wife of a great king," said a

very strong voice in clear and distinct accents, accompanied by shouts

of laughter, which evidently proceeded from a great pitcher placed at

the corner of the chimney.

The Fairy Coquette turned pale, and consternation was general; but the

woodcutter, now merry with wine, joined in the laugh. "Ah! how droll,"

said he, "red and black roses! A likely story, indeed, that a great

king would come a-wooing to a woodcutter's daughter! Only a pitcher

could invent such nonsense, and I shall teach it to utter no more."

Thus saying, he gave the pitcher a great kick and broke it in pieces;

when there issued from it a smoke thick and black, and so stifling

that Coquette was obliged to use two bottles of essence to dissipate

its noxious effects.

"Ah, cruel Barabapatapouf!" cried she, "must your malignity then

extend even to those whom I wish to benefit? I indeed recognise my

enemy," said she to the woodcutter; "beware of him, and believe that

it is with no good intention he destines your daughter for the bride

of a king. Some mystery is here concealed, foreboding evil."

Every one was rendered quite melancholy by this adventure, and

Coquette, beginning to weary of these poor foresters, opened the

window and disappeared.

A great quarrel then arose between the woodcutter and his sons, who,

forgetting that respect in which they had never before failed,

reproached him for losing an opportunity of rendering them all happy.

"We might," said they, "have purchased estates, finery of all kinds,

and been as rich and noble as many who now despise us. One or two

millions would have been as easy said as five hundred pounds; that sum

would obtain a marquisate for my father, and baronies for each of us.

What extraordinary stupidity our parents have shown!"

"My children," said the woodcutter, "are these things, then, necessary

for happiness? It appeared to me that you were well satisfied when our

master only made our poverty a little less oppressive; and now, while

you have more gold than you ever saw in your lives, one would suppose

that you had been deeply injured, and could never know contentment

more."

As for Mother Thomas, she was wiser, and so well pleased with the idea

of her daughter, that her imagination roamed no farther. In course of

time she gave birth to an infant; but scarcely had it seen the light

than it glided from her arms, and started up to the stature of a

well-formed girl of twelve or thirteen years old, who made a low

courtesy to the woodcutter, kissed the hand of her mother, and offered

her brothers a cordial embrace. But these lads ill-naturedly repulsed

the young stranger; they felt jealous, fearing that she would now be

preferred to them.

Rose, one might say, was born dressed, for flowing ringlets fell

around her shoulders, forming a complete covering; and with her

increase of size, appeared a little smart petticoat and brown bodice

in peasant fashion. Her delicate feet were clad in wooden shoes, but

both the foot and the shoe were so shapely, that any lady in the land

might have been proud to exhibit them. Her little plump hand was so

white that it hardly appeared formed for rustic labours, yet she

immediately prepared to assist in household matters, and the poor old

dame was never weary of caressing such a charming child.

A bed was prepared for Rose beside her mother. This good girl arose at

dawn to prepare the young men's breakfast; for she had an excellent

natural disposition, and so much intelligence that she seemed to know

by instinct that her birth was displeasing to them, and sought to

gain their regard by good-natured attentions.

Mother Thomas soon rose likewise, and returned to the kitchen. But

what was her horror on beholding her daughter's face black as ebony,

her hair woolly and crisped like a negro's! As there was no mirror in

the cottage, Rose could not understand what had so alarmed her mother;

she asked if she had involuntarily had the misfortune to give offence?

"No, no," said the old dame, weeping; "shouldst thou remain all thy

life as black as ink, I shall not love thee less; but I cannot without

pain recall thy beauties of yesterday. Thou wilt be laughed at; and us

too. Still, we will keep thee--thou must never leave us."

Rose readily promised she never would. But when her brothers returned,

they considered the change in her quite as a matter of course. They

recollected the prediction of the pitcher, and seemed quite delighted

to think that, since it was fulfilled in the first instance, they

might yet become the brothers of a queen.

Meanwhile they lived on better terms with Rose, hoping that one day

she might be of service to them. Far from listening to the counsels of

their father, they endeavoured to awaken in her mind the seeds of

ambition; and in order to further views interested and selfish,

flattered her beauty, her talents, and her sense, rendering the future

queen the most respectful homage, which diverted her exceedingly.

But, strange to say, Rose was not always black; every second day she

recovered her natural beauty, from whence it might be concluded, that

the influence of the fairy and the Enchanter Barabapatapouf operated

alternately. The woodcutter's family grew gradually accustomed to

these successions; and as habit reconciles people to all things, each

colour became indifferent to them.

Thomas was too old to change his mode of life; he would not hear of

going to live in town, although they had money sufficient for that

purpose; he also still continued the making of wooden shoes. Those

which Rose wore in winter were trimmed with lamb's-wool, which she

wrought very dexterously; she was clever and ingenious but, it must be

confessed, a little imperious; and was sometimes surprised sighing

like a person indulging in visionary wishes, and languishing under

some secret chagrin.

A year passed: Rose grew tall, and her brothers, weary of waiting for

an event so uncertain as her marriage with a king, executed a crime

which they had long meditated. Seeing that their father had touched

but one of the purses, they easily obtained possession of the rest,

and rising with the dawn, all three departed, saying, to satisfy their

consciences, that these purses must be finally theirs, and that they

would, meanwhile, turn them to advantage. When they should become very

rich, they would come back to their parents and take care of their

latter days. Each of them made a belt, in which he concealed his gold;

and with perfect concord, more frequently found amongst knaves than

honest men, they travelled a hundred leagues in eight days.

The woodcutter and his wife did not at first comprehend the extent of

their misfortune. They thought their children must have gone astray in

the forest, and the old man wandered everywhere in search of them. But

when he observed the loss of the purses, the truth was revealed, and

he felt ready to die with grief. "Cursed gold!" cried he, "thou hast

corrupted my brave and honest boys; they were poor, but virtuous; they

are now become villains, and will meet punishment from either man or

God!"

Thus saying, he took the remaining purse, and flung it into the bottom

of a well. Mother Thomas was vexed, but dared not speak, for the

unfortunate man was so much irritated and troubled that he would have

beaten her.

When his reason cleared a little, however, he felt that he had

committed an error in parting with his money, they being both old and

unable to work as formerly. The dame sold some articles which had been

purchased during their prosperity. But poverty was nothing; it was the

conduct of their sons which inflicted the bitter sting. How was this

then augmented, when some officers of justice arrived, and announced

that James, Peter, and Paul had been arrested. It seemed that while

drinking together in a public-house, they had spread on a table all

their gold. The host surprised them, and not believing that young

peasants, so coarsely clothed and wearing wooden shoes, could lawfully

be in possession of such a sum, he had given them in charge. The poor

boys, quite terrified, related the story of the Fairy Coquette; but

as the magistrate had never seen a fairy, he did not believe one word

of the matter.

Having then no hope but in the kindness of their father, they sent to

summon the woodcutter and his wife, who confirmed all their

assertions. But as no money was found in the cottage, whose

inhabitants appeared to subsist on their labour, the officers knew not

what to think.

Meantime they arrested the woodcutter for the purpose of identifying

his children. Pale, and trembling like criminals, the old couple

followed the guards. Mother Thomas was ready to faint, and doubly

grieved for leaving poor Rose all alone, especially as this was her

day for being white and beautiful. She begged her not to leave the

house, but to live on the milk of her sheep, and to bake cakes of some

meal which was in the bin. Their adieus were heart-rending; although

the soldiers declared that in three days the forester should be at

liberty to return, provided the innocence of his family was

established. Rose believed them, and endeavoured to take courage. But

more than a month passed, and no tidings of her parents. She could not

then prevent herself from wandering a little on the highway; and

having walked till sunset, wept so bitterly, that her beauty indeed

must have been a fairy-gift to remain uninjured.

One evening, being more worn out than usual, she seated herself at the

foot of a tree and fell asleep. A slight noise awoke her, and, on

looking up, she perceived a young gentleman richly dressed, who was

contemplating her with evident astonishment. "Art thou a goddess, or a

simple mortal?" cried he.

"Sir," replied Rose, "I am the daughter of a poor woodcutter, who

lives in the forest;--it is late, and I beg you will not detain me."

"You are a wayward beauty, indeed!" replied the prince, for so he was;

"but as my way lies in that direction, I hope you will permit me to

see you home."

"It is not in my power to prevent you," said Rose, without raising her

eyes.

The prince at this moment remarked that she had been weeping, and,

delighted to have an opportunity of offering sympathy and consolation,

entreated her to impart her grief to him. "I am not actuated by mere

curiosity," added he; "I never can behold a woman in tears without

feeling moved to the bottom of my soul! Tell me your distress, and I

will neither sleep nor eat till I have aided you."

The Fairy Book The Best Popular Stories Selected and Rendered Anew · 第 14 / 26 段