{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_14916/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_14916","id":"gutenberg_14916","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/14916","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Children's Anthologies","Children's Myths, Fairy Tales, etc.","Fairy tales"],"text":"E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Eric Betts, and the Project\nGutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team\n\n\n\nFAIRY TALES EVERY CHILD SHOULD KNOW\n\nEdited by\n\nHAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE\n\nThe What-Every-Child-Should-Know-Library\n\nDoubleday, Doran & Co., Inc., for The Parents' Institute, Inc.\nPublishers of \"The Parents' Magazine\"\n\n1905\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: \"A thousand fantasies begin to throng\"]\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION TO\n\n\"FAIRIES EVERY CHILD SHOULD KNOW\"\n\n\nThe fairy tale is a poetic recording of the facts of life, an\ninterpretation by the imagination of its hard conditions, an effort to\nreconcile the spirit which loves freedom and goodness and beauty with\nits harsh, bare and disappointing conditions. It is, in its earliest\nform, a spontaneous and instinctive endeavor to shape the facts of the\nworld to meet the needs of the imagination, the cravings of the heart.\nIt involves a free, poetic dealing with realities in accordance with the\nlaw of mental growth; it is the naive activity of the young imagination\nof the race, untrammelled by the necessity of rigid adherence to the\nfact.\n\nThe myths record the earliest attempt at an explanation of the world and\nits life; the fairy tale records the free and joyful play of the\nimagination, opening doors through hard conditions to the spirit, which\ncraves power, freedom, happiness; righting wrongs and redressing\ninjuries; defeating base designs; rewarding patience and virtue;\ncrowning true love with happiness; placing the powers of darkness under\ncontrol of man and making their ministers his servants. In the fairy\nstory, men are not set entirely free from their limitations, but, by the\naid of fairies, genii, giants and demons, they are put in command of\nunusual powers and make themselves masters of the forces of nature.\n\nThe oldest fairy stories constitute a fascinating introduction to the\nbook of modern science, curiously predicting its discoveries, its\nuncovering of the resources of the earth and air, its growing control of\nthe tremendous forces which work in earth and air. And it is significant\nthat the recent progress of science is steadily toward what our\nancestors would have considered fairy land; for in all the imaginings of\nthe childhood of the race there was nothing more marvellous or more\naudaciously improbable than the transmission of the accents and\nmodulations of familiar voices through long distances, and the power of\ncommunication across leagues of sea without mechanical connections of\nany kind.\n\nThe faculty which created the fairy tale is the same faculty which,\nsupplemented by a broader observation and based on more accurate\nknowledge, has broadened the range and activities of modern man, made\nthe world accessible to him, enabled him to live in one place but to\nspeak and act in places thousands of miles distant, given him command of\ncolossal forces, and is fast making him rich on a scale which would have\nseemed incredible to men of a half-century ago. There is nothing in any\nfairy tale more marvellous and inherently improbable than many of the\nachievements of scientific observation and invention, and we are only at\nthe beginning of the wonders that lie within the reach of the human\nspirit!\n\nNo one can understand the modern world without the aid of the\nimagination, and as the frontiers of knowledge are pushed still further\naway from the obvious and familiar, there will be an increasing tax on\nthe imagination. The world of dead matter which our fathers thought they\nunderstood has become a world of subtle forces moving with inconceivable\nvelocity; nothing is inert, all things are transformed into other and\nmore elusive shapes precisely as the makers of the fairy tales foresaw\nand predicted; the world lives in every atom just as their world lived;\nforces lie just outside the range of physical sight, but entirely within\nthe range of spiritual vision, precisely as the tellers of these old\nstories divined; mystery and wonder enfold all things, and not only\nevoke the full play of the mind, but flood it with intimations and\nsuggestions of the presence of more elusive and subtle forces, of finer\nand more obedient powers, as the world of fairies, magi and demons\nenfolded the ancient earth of daily toil and danger.\n\nIn a word, the fairy stories have come true; they are historical in the\nsense that they faithfully report a stage of spiritual growth and\npredict a higher order of realities through a deeper knowledge of\nactualities. They were poetic renderings of facts which science is fast\nverifying, chiefly by the use of the same faculty which enriched early\nliterature with the myth and the fairy tale. The scientist has turned\npoet in these later days, and the imagination which once expressed\nitself in a free handling of facts so as to make them answer the needs\nand demands of the human spirit, now expresses itself in that breadth of\nvision which reconstructs an extinct animal from a bone and analyzes the\nlight of a sun flaming on the outermost boundaries of space.\n\nThis collection of tales, gathered from the rich literature of the\nchildhood of the world, or from the books of the few modern men who have\nfound the key of that wonderful world, is put forth not only without\napology, but with the hope that it may widen the demand for these\ncharming reports of a world in which the truths of our working world are\nloyally upheld, while its hard facts are quietly but authoritatively\ndismissed from attention. The widest interpretation has been given to\nthe fairy tale, so as to include many of those classic romances of\nchildhood in which no fairy appears, but which are invested with the air\nand are permeated with the glorious freedom of fairy land.\n\nNo sane man or woman undervalues the immense gains of the modern world\nin the knowledge of facts and the application of ideas to things in\norder to secure comfort, health, access to the treasure in the earth and\non its surface, the means of education and greater freedom from the\ntyranny of toil by the accumulation of the fruits of toil; but no sane\nman or woman believes that a mechanical age is other than a transitional\nage, that the possession of things is the final achievement of society,\nand that in multiplication of conveniences civilization will reach its\npoint of culmination.\n\nWe are so engrossed in getting rich that we forget that by and by, when\nwe have become rich, we shall have to learn how to live; for work can\nnever be an end in itself; it is a \"means of grace\" when it is not\ndrudgery; and it must, in the long run, be a preparation for play. For\nplay is not organized idleness, frivolity set in a fanciful order; it is\nthe normal, spontaneous exercise of physical activity, the wholesome\ngayety of the mind, the natural expression of the spirit, without\nself-consciousness, constraint, or the tyranny of hours and tasks. It is\nthe highest form of energy, because it is free and creative; a joy in\nitself, and therefore a joy in the world. This is the explanation of the\nsense of freedom and elation which come from a great work of art; it is\nthe instinctive perception of the fact that while immense toil lies\nbehind the artist's skill, the soul of the creation came from beyond the\nworld of work and the making of it was a bit of play. The man of\ncreative spirit is often a tireless worker, but in his happiest hours he\nis at play; for all work, when it rises into freedom and power, is play.\n\"We work,\" wrote a Greek thinker of the most creative people who have\nyet appeared, \"in order that we may have leisure.\" The note of that life\nwas freedom; its activity was not \"evoked by external needs, but was\nfree, spontaneous and delightful; an ordered energy which stimulates all\nthe vital and mental powers.\"\n\nRobert Louis Stevenson, who knew well how to touch work with the spirit\nand charm of play, reports of certain evenings spent at a clubhouse near\nBrussels, that the men who gathered there \"were employed over the\nfrivolous mercantile concerns of Belgium during the day; but in the\nevening they found some hours for the serious concerns of life.\" They\ngave their days to commerce, but their evenings were devoted to more\nimportant interests!\n\nThese words are written for those older people who have made the mistake\nof straying away from childhood; children do not read introductions,\nbecause they know that the valuable part of the book is to be found in\nthe later pages. They read the stories; their elders read the\nintroduction as well. They both need the stuff of imagination, of which\nmyths, legends, and fairy tales are made. So much may be said of these\nold stories that it is a serious question where to begin, and a still\nmore difficult question where to end. For these tales are the first\noutpourings of that spring of imagination whence flow the most\nilluminating, inspiring, refreshing and captivating thoughts and ideas\nabout life. No philosophy is deeper than that which underlies these\nstories; no psychology is more important than that which finds its\nchoicest illustration in them; no chapter in the history of thought is\nmore suggestive and engrossing than that which records their growth and\ndivines their meaning. Fairy tales and myths are so much akin that they\nare easily transformed and exchange costumes without changing character;\nwhile the legend, which belongs to a later period, often reflects the\nlarge meaning of the myth and the free fancy of the fairy tale.\n\nAs a class, children not only possess the faculty of imagination, but\nare very largely occupied with it during the most sensitive and\nformative years, and those who lack it are brought under its spell by\ntheir fellows. They do not accurately distinguish between the actual and\nthe imaginary, and they live at ease in a world out of which paths run\nin every direction into wonderland. They begin their education when they\nbegin to play; for play not only affords an outlet for their energy, and\nso supplies one great means of growth and training, but places them in\nsocial relations with their mates and in conscious contact with the\nworld about them. The old games that have been played by generations of\nchildren not only precede the training of the school and supplement it,\nbut accomplish some results in the nature of the child which are beyond\nthe reach of the school. When a crowd of boys are rushing across country\nin \"hounds and deer,\" they are giving lungs, heart and muscles the best\npossible exercise; they are sharing certain rules of honor with one\nanother, expressed in that significant phrase, \"fair play\"; and they are\ngiving rein to their imaginations in the very name of their occupation.\nBody, spirit and imagination have their part in every good game; for the\ninterest of a game lies in its appeal to the imagination, as in \"hounds\nand deer,\" or in its stimulus to activity, as in \"tag\" and\n\"hide-and-seek.\"\n\nThere are few chapters in the biography of the childhood of men of\ngenius more significant than those which describe imaginary worlds which\nwere, for a time, as real as the actual world in which the boy lived.\nGoethe entertained and mystified his playmates with accounts of a\ncertain garden in which he wandered at will, but which they could not\nfind; and De Quincey created a kingdom, with all its complex relations\nand varied activities, which he ruled with beneficence and affection\nuntil, in an unlucky hour, he revealed his secret to his brother, who\nstraightway usurped his authority, and governed his subjects with such\ntyranny and cruelty that De Quincey was compelled to save his people by\ndestroying them.\n\nThese elaborate and highly organized efforts of the young imagination,\nof which boys and girls of unusual inventiveness are capable, are\nimitated on a smaller scale by all normal children. They endow inanimate\nthings with life, and play and suffer with them as with their real\nplaymates. The little girl not only talks with her dolls, but weeps with\nand for them when disaster overtakes them. The boy faces foes of his own\nmaking in the woods, or at lonely places in the road, who are quite as\nreal to him as the people with whom he lives. By common agreement a\nlocality often becomes a historic spot to a whole group of boys; enemies\nare met and overcome there; grave perils are bravely faced; and the\nmagic sometimes lingers long after the dream has been dissolved in the\ndawning light of definite knowledge. Childhood is one long day of\ndiscovery; first, to the unfolding spirit, there is revealed a\nwonderland partly actual and partly created by the action of the mind;\nthen follows the slow awakening, when the growing boy or girl learns to\ndistinguish between fact and fancy, and to separate the real from the\nimaginary.\n\nThis process of learning to \"see things as they are\" is often regarded\nas the substance of education, and to be able to distinguish sharply and\naccurately between reality and vision, actual and imaginary image is\naccepted as the test of thorough training of the intelligence. What\nreally takes place is the readjustment of the work of the faculties so\nas to secure harmonious action; and in the happy and sound development\nof the nature the imagination does not give place to observation, but\ndeals with principles, forces and laws instead of with things. The loss\nof vision is never compensated for by the gain of sight; to see a thing\none must use his mind quite as much as his eye. It too often happens, as\nthe result of our educational methods, that in training the observer we\nblight the poet; and the poet is, after all, the most important person\nin society. He keeps the soul of his fellows alive. Without him the\nmodern world would become one vast, dreary, soul-destroying Coketown,\nand man would sink to the level of Gradgrind. The practical man develops\nthe resources of the country, the man of vision discerns, formulates and\ndirects its spiritual policy and growth; the mechanic builds the house,\nbut the architect creates it; the artisan makes the tools, but the\nartist uses them; the observer sees and records the fact, but the\nscientist discovers the law; the man of affairs manages the practical\nconcerns of the world from day to day, but the poet makes it spiritual,\nsignificant, interesting, worth living in.\n\nThe modern child passes through the same stages as did the children of\nfour thousand years ago. He, too, is a poet. He believes that the world\nabout him throbs with life and is peopled with all manner of strange,\nbeautiful, powerful folk, who live just outside the range of his sight;\nhe, too, personifies light and heat and storm and wind and cold as his\nremote ancestors did. He, too, lives in and through his imagination; and\nif, in later life, he grows in power and becomes a creative man, his\nachievements are the fruits of the free and vigorous life of his\nimagination. The higher kinds of power, the higher opportunities of\nmind, the richer resources, the springs of the deeper happiness, are\nopen to him in the exact degree in which he is able to use his\nimagination with individual freedom and intelligence. Formal education\nmakes small provision for this great need of his nature; it trains his\neye, his hand, his faculty of observation, his ability to reason, his\ncapacity for resolute action; but it takes little account of that higher\nfaculty which, cooperating with the other faculties, makes him an\narchitect instead of a builder, an artist instead of an artisan, a poet\ninstead of a drudge.\n\nThe fairy tale belongs to the child and ought always to be within his\nreach, not only because it is his special literary form and his nature\ncraves it, but because it is one of the most vital of the textbooks\noffered to him in the school of life. In ultimate importance it outranks\nthe arithmetic, the grammar, the geography, the manuals of science; for\nwithout the aid of the imagination none of these books is really\ncomprehensible.\n\nHAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE,\n\nMarch, 1905.\n\n\n\n\nFAIRY TALES\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\nONE EYE, TWO EYES, THREE EYES\n(Grimm's Fairy Tales)\n\nTHE MAGIC MIRROR\n(Grimm's Fairy Tales)\n\nTHE ENCHANTED STAG\n(Grimm's Fairy Tales)\n\nHANSEL AND GRETHEL\n(Grimm's Fairy Tales)\n\nTHE STORY OF ALADDIN; OR, THE WONDERFUL LAMP\n(\"Arabian Nights' Entertainments\")\n\nTHE HISTORY OF ALI BABA, AND OF THE FORTY\n   ROBBERS KILLED BY ONE SLAVE\n(\"Arabian Nights' Entertainments\")\n\nTHE SECOND VOYAGE OF SINDBAD THE SAILOR\n(\"Arabian Nights' Entertainments\")\n\nTHE WHITE CAT\n(From the tale by the Comtesse d'Aulnoy)\n\nTHE GOLDEN GOOSE\n(Grimm's Fairy Tales)\n\nTHE TWELVE BROTHERS\n(Grimm's Fairy Tales)\n\nTHE FAIR ONE WITH THE GOLDEN LOCKS\n(From the tale by the Comtesse d'Aulnoy)\n\nTOM THUMB\n(First written in prose in 1621 by Richard Johnson)\n\nBLUE BEARD\n(From the French tale by Charles Perrault)\n\nCINDERELLA; OR, THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER\n(From the French tale by Charles Perrault)\n\nPUSS IN BOOTS\n(From the French tale by Charles Perrault)\n\nTHE SLEEPING BEAUTY IN THE WOOD\n(From the French tale by Charles Perrault)\n\nJACK AND THE BEAN-STALK\n(Said to be an allegory of the Teutonic\n  Al-fader, The tale written in French\n  by Charles Perrault)\n\nJACK THE GIANT KILLER\n(From the old British legend told by Geoffrey\n  of Monmouth, of Corineus the Trojan)\n\nLITTLE RED RIDING HOOD\n(From the French tale by Charles Perrault)\n\nTHE THREE BEARS\n(Robert Southey)\n\nTHE PRINCESS ON THE PEA\n(From the tale by Hans Christian Andersen)\n\nTHE UGLY DUCKLING\n(From the tale by Hans Christian Andersen)\n\nTHE LIGHT PRINCESS\n(George MacDonald)\n\nBEAUTY AND THE BEAST\n(From the French tale by Madame Gabrielle\n  de Villeneuve)\n\n\n\n\nFAIRY TALES EVERY CHILD\n\nSHOULD KNOW\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nONE EYE, TWO EYES, THREE EYES\n\n\nThere was once a woman who had three daughters, of whom the eldest was\nnamed \"One Eye,\" because she had only one eye in the middle of her\nforehead. The second had two eyes, like other people, and she was called\n\"Two Eyes.\" The youngest had three eyes, two like her second sister, and\none in the middle of her forehead, like the eldest, and she bore the\nname of \"Three Eyes.\"\n\nNow because little Two Eyes looked just like other people, her mother\nand sisters could not endure her. They said to her, \"You are not better\nthan common folks, with your two eyes; you don't belong to us.\"\n\nSo they pushed her about, and threw all their old clothes to her for her\nto wear, and gave her only the pieces that were left to eat, and did\neverything that they could to make her miserable. It so happened that\nlittle Two Eyes was sent into the fields to take care of the goats, and\nshe was often very hungry, although her sisters had as much as they\nliked to eat. So one day she seated herself on a mound in the field, and\nbegan to weep and cry so bitterly that two little rivulets flowed from\nher eyes. Once, in the midst of her sorrow she looked up, and saw a\nwoman standing near her who said, \"What are you weeping for, little Two\nEyes?\"\n\n\"I cannot help weeping,\" she replied; \"for because I have two eyes, like\nother people, my mother and sisters cannot bear me; they push me about\nfrom one corner to another and make we wear their old clothes, and give\nme nothing to eat but what is left, so that I am always hungry. To-day\nthey gave me so little that I am nearly starved.\"\n\n\"Dry up your tears, little Two Eyes,\" said the wise woman; \"I will tell\nyou something to do which will prevent you from ever being hungry again.\nYou have only to say to your own goat:\n\n  \"'Little goat, if you're able,\n  Pray deck out my table,'\n\n\"and immediately there will be a pretty little table before you full of\nall sorts of good things for you to eat, as much as you like. And when\nyou have had enough, and you do not want the table any more, you need\nonly say:\n\n  \"'Little goat, when you're able,\n  Remove my nice table,'\n\n\"and it will vanish from your eyes.\"\n\nThen the wise woman went away. \"Now,\" thought little Two Eyes, \"I will\ntry if what she says is true, for I am very hungry,\" so she said:\n\n  \"Little goat, if you're able,\n  Pray deck out my table.\"\n\nThe words were scarcely spoken, when a beautiful little table stood\nreally before her; it had a white cloth and plates, and knives and\nforks, and silver spoons, and such a delicious dinner, smoking hot as if\nit had just come from the kitchen. Then little Two Eyes sat down and\nsaid the shortest grace she knew--\"Pray God be our guest for all time.\nAmen\"--before she allowed herself to taste anything. But oh, how she did\nenjoy her dinner! and when she had finished, she said, as the wise woman\nhad taught her:\n\n  \"Little goat, when you're able,\n  Remove my nice table.\"\n\nIn a moment, the table and everything upon it had disappeared. \"That is\na pleasant way to keep house,\" said little Two Eyes, and felt quite\ncontented and happy. In the evening, when she went home with the goat,\nshe found an earthenware dish with some scraps which her sisters had\nleft for her, but she did not touch them. The next morning she went away\nwith the goat, leaving them behind where they had been placed for her.\nThe first and second times that she did so, the sisters did not notice\nit; but when they found it happened every day, they said one to the\nother, \"There is something strange about little Two Eyes, she leaves her\nsupper every day, and all that has been put for her has been wasted; she\nmust get food somewhere else.\"\n\nSo they determined to find out the truth, and they arranged that when\nTwo Eyes took her goat to the field, One Eye should go with her to take\nparticular notice of what she did, and discover if anything was brought\nfor her to eat and drink.\n\nSo when Two Eyes started with her goat, One Eye said to her, \"I am going\nwith you to-day to see if the goat gets her food properly while you are\nwatching the rest.\"\n\nBut Two Eyes knew what she had in her mind. So she drove the goat into\nthe long grass, and said, \"Come, One Eye, let us sit down here and rest,\nand I will sing to you.\"\n\nOne Eye seated herself, and, not being accustomed to walk so far, or to\nbe out in the heat of the sun, she began to feel tired, and as little\nTwo Eyes kept on singing, she closed her one eye and fell fast asleep.\n\nWhen Two Eyes saw this, she knew that One Eye could not betray her, so\nshe said:\n\n  \"Little goat, if you are able,\n  Come and deck my pretty table.\"\n\nShe seated herself when it appeared, and ate and drank very quickly, and\nwhen she had finished she said:\n\n  \"Little goat, when you are able,\n  Come and clear away my table.\"\n\nIt vanished in the twinkling of an eye; and then Two Eyes woke up One\nEye, and said, \"Little One Eye, you are a clever one to watch goats;\nfor, while you are asleep, they might be running all over the world.\nCome, let us go home!\"\n\nSo they went to the house, and little Two Eyes again left the scraps on\nthe dish untouched, and One Eye could not tell her mother whether little\nTwo Eyes had eaten anything in the field; for she said to excuse\nherself, \"I was asleep.\"\n\nThe next day the mother said to Three Eyes, \"You must go to the field\nthis time, and find out whether there is anyone who brings food to\nlittle Two Eyes; for she must eat and drink secretly.\"\n\nSo when little Two Eyes started with her goat, Three Eyes followed, and\nsaid, \"I am going with you to-day, to see if the goats are properly fed\nand watched.\"\n\nBut Two Eyes knew her thoughts; so she led the goat through the long\ngrass to tire Three Eyes, and at last she said, \"Let us sit down here\nand rest, and I will sing to you, Three Eyes.\"\n\nShe was glad to sit down, for the walk and the heat of the sun had\nreally tired her; and, as her sister continued her song, she was obliged\nto close two of her eyes, and they slept, but not the third. In fact,\nThree Eyes was wide awake with one eye, and heard and saw all that Two\nEyes did; for poor little Two Eyes, thinking she was asleep, said her\nspeech to the goat, and the table came with all the good things on it,\nand was carried away when Two Eyes had eaten enough; and the cunning\nThree Eyes saw it all with her one eye. But she pretended to be asleep\nwhen her sister came to wake her and told her she was going home.\n\nThat evening, when little Two Eyes again left the supper they placed\naside for her, Three Eyes said to her mother, \"I know where the proud\nthing gets her good eating and drinking;\" and then she described all she\nhad seen in the field. \"I saw it all with one eye,\" she said; \"for she\nhad made my other two eyes close with her fine singing, but luckily the\none in my forehead remained open.\"\n\nThen the envious mother cried out to poor little Two Eyes, \"You wish to\nhave better food than we, do you? You shall lose your wish!\" She took up\na butcher's knife, went out, and stuck the good little goat in the\nheart, and it fell dead.\n\nWhen little Two Eyes saw this, she went out into the field, seated\nherself on a mound, and wept most bitter tears.\n\nPresently the wise woman stood again before her, and said, \"Little Two\nEyes, why do you weep?\"\n\n\"Ah!\" she replied, \"I must weep. The goat, who every day spread my table\nso beautifully, has been killed by my mother, and I shall have again to\nsuffer from hunger and sorrow.\"\n\n\"Little Two Eyes,\" said the wise woman, \"I will give you some good\nadvice. Go home, and ask your sister to give you the inside of the\nslaughtered goat, and then go and bury it in the ground in front of the\nhouse-door.\"\n\nOn saying this the wise woman vanished.\n\nLittle Two Eyes went home quickly, and said to her sister, \"Dear sister,\ngive me some part of my poor goat. I don't want anything valuable; only\ngive me the inside.\"\n\nHer sister laughed, and said, \"Of course you can have that, if you don't\nwant anything else.\"\n\nSo little Two Eyes took the inside; and in the evening, when all was\nquiet, buried it in the ground outside the house-door, as the wise woman\nhad told her to do.\n\nThe next morning, when they all rose and looked out of the window, there\nstood a most wonderful tree, with leaves of silver and apples of gold\nhanging between them. Nothing in the wide world could be more beautiful\nor more costly. They none of them knew how the tree could come there in\none night, excepting little Two Eyes. She supposed it had grown up from\nthe inside of the goat; for it stood over where she had buried it in the\nearth.\n\nThen said the mother to little One Eye, \"Climb up, my child, and break\noff some of the fruit from the tree.\"\n\nOne Eye climbed up, but when she tried to catch a branch and pluck one\nof the apples, it escaped from her hand, and so it happened every time\nshe made the attempt, and, do what she would, she could not reach one.\n\n\"Three Eyes,\" said the mother, \"climb up, and try what you can do;\nperhaps you will be able to see better with your three eyes than One Eye\ncan.\"\n\nOne Eye slid down from the tree, and Three Eyes climbed up. But Three\nEyes was not more skilful; with all her efforts she could not draw the\nbranches, nor the fruit, near enough to pluck even a leaf, for they\nsprang back as she put out her hand.\n\nAt last the mother was impatient, and climbed up herself, but with no\nmore success, for, as she appeared to grasp a branch, or fruit, her hand\nclosed upon thin air.\n\n\"May I try?\" said little Two Eyes; \"perhaps I may succeed.\"\n\n\"You, indeed!\" cried her sisters; \"you, with your two eyes, what can you\ndo?\"\n\nBut Two Eyes climbed up, and the golden apples did not fly back from her\nwhen she touched them, but almost laid themselves on her hand, and she\nplucked them one after another, till she carried down her own little\napron full.\n\nThe mother took them from her, and gave them to her sisters, as she said\nlittle Two Eyes did not handle them properly; but this was only from\njealousy, because little Two Eyes was the only one who could reach the\nfruit, and she went into the house feeling more spiteful to her than\never.\n\nIt happened that while all three sisters were standing under the tree\ntogether a young knight rode by. \"Run away, quick, and hide yourself,\nlittle Two Eyes; hide yourself somewhere, for we shall be quite ashamed\nfor you to be seen.\" Then they pushed the poor girl, in great haste,\nunder an empty cask, which stood near the tree, and several of the\ngolden apples that she had plucked along with her.\n\nAs the knight came nearer they saw he was a handsome man; and presently\nhe halted, and looked with wonder and pleasure at the beautiful tree\nwith its silver leaves and golden fruit.\n\nAt last he spoke to the sisters, and asked: \"To whom does this beautiful\ntree belong? If a man possessed only one branch he might obtain all he\nwished for in the world.\"\n\n\"This tree belongs to us,\" said the two sisters, \"and we will break off\na branch for you if you like.\" They gave themselves a great deal of\ntrouble in trying to do as they offered; but all to no purpose, for the\nbranches and the fruit evaded their efforts, and sprung back at every\ntouch.\n\n\"This is wonderful,\" exclaimed the knight, \"that the tree should belong\nto you, and yet you are not able to gather even a branch.\"\n\nThey persisted, however, in declaring that the tree was their own\nproperty. At this moment little Two Eyes, who was angry because her\nsisters had not told the truth, caused two of the golden apples to slip\nout from under the cask, and they rolled on till they reached the feet\nof the knight's horse. When he saw them, he asked in astonishment where\nthey came from.\n\nThe two ugly maidens replied that they had another sister, but they\ndared not let him see her, for she had only two eyes, like common\npeople, and was named little Two Eyes.\n\nBut the knight felt very anxious to see her, and called out, \"Little Two\nEyes, come here.\" Then came Two Eyes, quite comforted, from the empty\ncask, and the knight was astonished to find her so beautiful.\n\nThen he said, \"Little Two Eyes, can you break off a branch of the tree\nfor me?\"\n\n\"Oh yes,\" she replied, \"I can, very easily, for the tree belongs to me.\"\nAnd she climbed up, and, without any trouble, broke off a branch with\nits silver leaves and golden fruit and gave it to the knight.\n\nHe looked down at her as she stood by his horse, and said: \"Little Two\nEyes, what shall I give you for this?\"\n\n\"Ah!\" she answered, \"I suffer from hunger and thirst, and sorrow, and\ntrouble, from early morning till late at night; if you would only take\nme with you, and release me, I should be so happy.\"\n\nThen the knight lifted the little maiden on his horse, and rode home\nwith her to his father's castle. There she was given beautiful clothes\nto wear, and as much to eat and drink as she wished, and as she grew up\nthe young knight loved her so dearly that they were married with great\nrejoicings.\n\nNow, when the two sisters saw little Two Eyes carried away by the\nhandsome young knight, they were overjoyed at their good fortune. \"The\nwonderful tree belongs to us now,\" they said; \"even if we cannot break\noff a branch, yet everybody who passes will stop to admire it, and make\nacquaintance with us, and, who knows? we may get husbands after all.\"\n\nBut when they rose the next morning, lo! the tree had vanished, and with\nit all their hopes. And on this very morning, when little Two Eyes\nlooked out of her chamber window of the castle, she saw, to her great\njoy, that the tree had followed her.\n\nLittle Two Eyes lived for a long time in great happiness; but she heard\nnothing of her sisters, till one day two poor women came to the castle,\nto beg for alms. Little Two Eyes saw them, and, looking earnestly in\ntheir faces, she recognised her two sisters, who had become so poor that\nthey were obliged to beg their bread from door to door.\n\nBut the good sister received them most kindly, and promised to take care\nof them and give them all they wanted. And then they did indeed repent\nand feel sorry for having treated her so badly in their youthful days.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nTHE MAGIC MIRROR\n\n\nOne day in the middle of winter, when the snowflakes fell from the sky\nlike feathers, a queen sat at a window netting. Her netting-needle was\nof black ebony, and as she worked, and the snow glittered, she pricked\nher finger, and three drops of blood fell into the snow. The red spots\nlooked so beautiful in the white snow that the queen thought to herself:\n\"Oh, if I only had a little child, I should like it to be as fair as\nsnow, as rosy as the red blood, and with hair and eyes as black as\nebony.\"\n\nVery soon after this the queen had a little daughter who was very fair,\nhad rosy cheeks, and hair as black as ebony; and they gave her the name\nof Snow-white. But at the birth of the little child the queen died.\n\nWhen Snow-white was a year old, the king took another wife. She was very\nhandsome, but so proud and vain that she could not endure that anyone\nshould surpass her in beauty. She possessed a wonderful mirror, and when\nshe stood before it to look at herself she would say:\n\n    \"Mirror, mirror on the wall,\n     Am I most beautiful of all?\"\n\nThen the mirror would reply:\n\n  \"Young queen, thou are so wondrous fair,\n   None can with thee at all compare.\"\n\nThen she would go away quite contented, for she knew the magic mirror\ncould speak only the truth.\n\nYears went by, and as Snow-white grew up, she became day after day more\nbeautiful, till she reached the age of seven years, and then people\nbegan to talk about her, and say that she would be more lovely even than\nthe queen herself. So the proud woman went to her magic looking-glass,\nand asked:\n\n    \"Mirror, mirror on the wall,\n     Am I most beautiful of all?\"\n\nBut the mirror answered:\n\n  \"Queen, thou are lovely still to see,\n   But Snow-white will be\n   A thousand times more beautiful than thee.\"\n\nThen the queen was terrified, and turned green and yellow with jealousy.\nIf she had caught sight of Snow-white at that moment, she would have\nbeen ready to tear her heart out of her body, she hated the maiden so\nfiercely.\n\nAnd this jealousy and envy grew every day stronger and stronger in her\nheart, like a disease, till she had no rest day or night.\n\nAt last she sent for a hunter, who lived near a forest, and said to him,\n\"Hunter, I want to get rid of that child. Take her out into the wood,\nand if you bring me some proofs that she is dead, I will reward you\nhandsomely. Never let her appear before my eyes again.\"\n\nSo the hunter enticed the child into the wood; but when he took out his\nhunting-knife to thrust into Snow-white's innocent heart, she fell on\nher knees and wept, and said, \"Ah, dear hunter, leave me my life; I will\nrun away into the wild wood, and never, never come home any more.\"\n\nShe looked so innocent and beautiful as she knelt, that the hunter's\nheart was moved with compassion: \"Run away, then, thou poor child,\" he\ncried; \"I cannot harm thee.\"\n\nSnow-white thanked him so sweetly, and was out of sight in a few\nmoments.\n\n\"She will be devoured by wild beasts,\" he said to himself. But the\nthought that he had not killed her was as if a stone-weight had been\nlifted from his heart.\n\nTo satisfy the queen, he took part of the inside of a young fawn, which\nthe wicked woman thought was poor little Snow-white, and was overjoyed\nto think she was dead.\n\nBut the poor little motherless child, when she found herself alone in\nthe wood, and saw nothing but trees and leaves, was dreadfully\nfrightened, and knew not what to do. At last she began to run over the\nsharp stones and through the thorns, and though the wild beasts sprang\nout before her, they did her no harm. She ran on as long as she could\ntill her little feet became quite sore; and towards evening she saw, to\nher great joy, a pretty little house. So she went up to it, and found\nthe door open and no one at home.\n\nIt was a tiny little house, but everything in it was so clean and neat\nand elegant that it is beyond description. In the middle of the room\nstood a small table, covered with a snow-white table-cloth, ready for\nsupper. On it were arranged seven little plates, seven little spoons,\nseven little knives and forks, and seven mugs. By the wall stood seven\nlittle beds, near each other, covered with white quilts.\n\nPoor Snow-white, who was hungry and thirsty, ate a few vegetables and a\nlittle bread from each plate, and drank a little drop of wine from each\ncup, for she did not like to take all she wanted from one alone. After\nthis, feeling very tired, she thought she would lie down and rest on one\nof the beds, but she found it difficult to choose one to suit her. One\nwas too long, another too short; so she tried them all till she came to\nthe seventh, and that was so comfortable that she laid herself down, and\nwas soon fast asleep.\n\nWhen it was quite dark the masters of the house came home. They were\nseven little dwarfs, who dug and searched in the mountains for minerals.\nFirst they lighted seven little lamps, and as soon as the room was full\nof light they saw that some one had been there, for everything did not\nstand in the order in which they had left it.\n\nThen said the first, \"Who has been sitting in my little chair?\"\n\nThe second exclaimed, \"Who has been eating from my little plate?\"\n\nThe third cried, \"Some one has taken part of my bread.\"\n\n\"Who has been eating my vegetables?\" said the fourth.\n\nThen said the fifth, \"Some one has used my fork.\"\n\nThe sixth cried, \"And who has been cutting with my knife?\"\n\n\"And some one has been drinking out of my cup,\" said the seventh.\n\nThen the eldest looked at his bed, and, seeing that it looked tumbled,\ncried out that some one had been upon it. The others came running\nforward, and found all their beds in the same condition. But when the\nseventh approached his bed, and saw Snow-white lying there fast asleep,\nhe called the others, who came quickly, and holding their lights over\ntheir heads, cried out in wonder as they beheld the sleeping child. \"Oh,\nwhat a beautiful little child!\" they said to each other, and were so\ndelighted that they would not awaken her, but left her to sleep as long\nas she liked in the little bed, while its owner slept with one of his\ncompanions, and so the night passed away.\n\nIn the morning, when Snow-white awoke, and saw all the dwarfs, she was\nterribly frightened. But they spoke kindly to her, till she lost all\nfear, and they asked her name.\n\n\"I am called Snow-white,\" she replied.\n\n\"But how came you to our house?\" asked one.\n\nThen she related to them all that had happened; how her stepmother had\nsent her into the wood with the hunter, who had spared her life, and\nthat, after wandering about for a whole day, she had found their house.\n\nThe dwarfs talked a little while together, and then one said, \"Do you\nthink you could be our little housekeeper, to make the beds, cook the\ndinner, and wash and sew and knit for us, and keep everything neat and\nclean and orderly? If you can, then you shall stay here with us, and\nnobody shall hurt you.\"\n\n\"Oh yes, I will try,\" said Snow-white. So they let her stay, and she was\na clever little thing. She managed very well, and kept the house quite\nclean and in order. And while they were gone to the mountains to find\ngold, she got their supper ready, and they were very happy together.\n\nBut every morning when they left her, the kind little dwarfs warned\nSnow-white to be careful. While the maiden was alone they knew she was\nin danger, and told her not to show herself, for her stepmother would\nsoon find out where she was, and said, \"Whatever you do, let nobody into\nthe house while we are gone.\"\n\nAfter the wicked queen had proved, as she thought, that Snow-white was\ndead, she felt quite satisfied there was no one in the world now likely\nto become so beautiful as herself, so she stepped up to her mirror and\nasked:\n\n    \"Mirror, mirror on the wall,\n     Who is most beautiful of all?\"\n\nTo her vexation the mirror replied:\n\n  \"Fair queen, at home there is none like thee,\n   But over the mountains is Snow-white free,\n   With seven little dwarfs, who are strange to see;\n   A thousand times fairer than thou is she.\"\n\nThe queen was furious when she heard this, for she knew the mirror was\ntruthful, and that the hunter must have deceived her, and that\nSnow-white still lived. So she sat and pondered over these facts,\nthinking what would be best to do, for as long as she was not the most\nbeautiful woman in the land, her jealousy gave her no peace. After a\ntime, she decided what to do. First, she painted her face, and whitened\nher hair; then she dressed herself in old woman's clothes, and was so\ndisguised that no one could have recognised her.\n\nWatching an opportunity, she left the castle, and took her way to the\nwood near the mountains, where the seven little dwarfs lived. When she\nreached the door, she knocked, and cried, \"Beautiful goods to sell;\nbeautiful goods to sell.\"\n\nSnow-white, when she heard it, peeped through the window, and said,\n\"Good-day, old lady. What have you in your basket for me to buy?\"\n\n\"Everything that is pretty,\" she replied; \"laces, and pearls, and\nearrings, and bracelets of every colour;\" and she held up her basket,\nwhich was lined with glittering silk.\n\n\"I can let in this respectable old woman,\" thought Snow-white; \"she will\nnot harm me.\" So she unbolted the door, and told her to come in. Oh, how\ndelighted Snow-white was with the pretty things; she bought several\ntrinkets, and a beautiful silk lace for her stays, but she did not see\nthe evil eye of the old woman who was watching her. Presently she said,\n\"Child, come here; I will show you how to lace your stays properly.\"\nSnow-white had no suspicion, so she placed herself before the old woman\nthat she might lace her stays. But no sooner was the lace in the holes\nthan she began to lace so fast and pull so tight that Snow-white could\nnot breathe, and presently fell down at her feet as if dead.\n\n\"Now you are beautiful indeed,\" said the woman, and, fancying she heard\nfootsteps, she rushed away as quickly as she could.\n\nNot long after, the seven dwarfs came home, and they were terribly\nfrightened to see dear little Snow-white lying on the ground without\nmotion, as if she were dead. They lifted her up, and saw in a moment\nthat her stays had been laced too tight. Quickly they cut the stay-lace\nin two, till Snow-white began to breathe a little, and after a time was\nrestored to life. But when the dwarfs heard what had happened, they\nsaid: \"That old market-woman was no other than your wicked stepmother.\nSnow-white, you must never again let anyone in while we are not with\nyou.\"\n\nThe wicked queen when she returned home, after, as she thought, killing\nSnow-white, went to her looking-glass and asked:\n\n    \"Mirror, mirror on the wall,\n     Am I most beautiful of all?\"\n\nThen answered the mirror:\n\n  \"Queen, thou art not the fairest now;\n   Snow-white over the mountain's brow\n   A thousand times fairer is than thou.\"\n\nWhen she heard this she was so terrified that the blood rushed to her\nheart, for she knew that after all she had done Snow-white was still\nalive. \"I must think of something else,\" she said to herself, \"to get\nrid of that odious child.\"\n\nNow this wicked queen had some knowledge of witchcraft, and she knew how\nto poison a comb, so that whoever used it would fall dead. This the\nwicked stepmother soon got ready, and dressing herself again like an old\nwoman, but quite different from the last, she started off to travel over\nthe mountains to the dwarfs' cottage.\n\nWhen Snow-white heard the old cry, \"Goods to sell, fine goods to sell,\"\nshe looked out of the window and said:\n\n\"Go away, go away; I must not let you in.\"\n\n\"Look at this, then,\" said the woman; \"you shall have it for your own if\nyou like,\" and she held up before the child's eyes the bright\ntortoise-shell comb which she had poisoned.\n\nPoor Snow-white could not refuse such a present, so she opened the door\nand let the woman in, quite forgetting the advice of the dwarfs. After\nshe had bought a few things, the old woman said, \"Let me try this comb\nin your hair; it is so fine it will make it beautifully smooth and\nglossy.\"\n\nSo Snow-white, thinking no wrong, stood before the woman to have her\nhair dressed; but no sooner had the comb touched the roots of her hair\nthan the poison took effect, and the maiden fell to the ground lifeless.\n\n\"You paragon of beauty,\" said the wicked woman, \"all has just happened\nas I expected,\" and then she went away quickly.\n\nFortunately evening soon arrived, and the seven dwarfs returned home.\nWhen they saw Snow-white lying dead on the ground, they knew at once\nthat the stepmother had been there again; but on seeing the poisoned\ncomb in her hair they pulled it out quickly, and Snow-white very soon\ncame to herself, and related all that had passed.\n\nAgain they warned her not to let anyone enter the house during their\nabsence, and on no account to open the door; but Snow-white was not\nclever enough to resist her clever wicked stepmother, and she forgot to\nobey.\n\nThe wicked queen felt sure now that she had really killed Snow-white; so\nas soon as she returned home she went to her looking-glass, and\ninquired:\n\n    \"Mirror, mirror on the wall,\n     Who is most beautiful of all?\"\n\nBut the mirror replied:\n\n  \"Queen, thou art the fairest here,\n   But not when Snow-white is near;\n   Over the mountains still is she,\n   Fairer a thousand times than thee.\"\n\nAs the looking-glass thus replied, the queen trembled and quaked with\nrage. \"Snow-white shall die,\" cried she, \"if it costs me my own life!\"\n\nThen she went into a lonely forbidden chamber where no one was allowed\nto come, and poisoned a beautiful apple. Outwardly it looked ripe and\ntempting, of a pale green with rosy cheeks, so that it made everyone's\nmouth water to look at it, but whoever ate even a small piece must die.\n\nAs soon as this apple was ready, the wicked queen painted her face,\ndisguised her hair, dressed herself as a farmer's wife, and went again\nover the mountains to the dwarfs' cottage.\n\nWhen she knocked at the door, Snow-white stretched her head out of the\nwindow, and said, \"I dare not let you in; the seven dwarfs have\nforbidden me.\"\n\n\"But I am all right,\" said the farmer's wife. \"Stay, I will show you my\napples. Are they not beautiful? let me make you a present of one.\"\n\n\"No, thank you,\" cried Snow-white; \"I dare not take it.\"\n\n\"What!\" cried the woman, \"are you afraid it is poisoned? Look here now,\nI will cut the apple in halves; you shall have the rosy-cheek side, and\nI will eat the other.\"\n\nThe apple was so cleverly made that the red side alone was poisonous.\nSnow-white longed so much for the beautiful fruit as she saw the\nfarmer's wife eat one half that she could not any longer resist, but\nstretched out her hand from the window and took the poisoned half. But\nno sooner had she taken one mouthful than she fell on the ground dead.\n\nThen the wicked queen glanced in at the window with a horrible look in\nher eye, and laughed aloud as she exclaimed:\n\n\"White as snow, red as blood, and black as ebony; this time the dwarfs\nwill not be able to awake thee.\"\n\nAnd as soon as she arrived at home, and asked her mirror who was the\nmost beautiful in the land, it replied:\n\n  \"Fair queen, there is none in all the land\n   So beautiful as thou.\"\n\nThen had her envious heart rest, at least such rest as a heart full of\nenvy and malice ever can have.\n\nThe little dwarfs, when they came home in the evening, found poor\nSnow-white on the ground; but though they lifted her up, there were no\nsigns of breath from her mouth, and they found she was really dead. Yet\nthey tried in every way to restore her; they tried to extract the poison\nfrom her lips, they combed her hair, and washed it with wine and water,\nbut all to no purpose: the dear child gave no signs of life, and at last\nthey knew she was dead. Then they laid her on a bier, and the seven\ndwarfs seated themselves round her, and wept and mourned for three days.\nThey would have buried her then, but there was no change in her\nappearance; her face was as fresh, and her cheeks and lips had their\nusual colour. Then said one, \"We cannot lay this beautiful child in the\ndark, cold earth.\"\n\nSo they agreed to have a coffin made entirely of glass, transparent all\nover, that they might watch for any signs of decay, and they wrote in\nletters of gold her name on the lid, and that she was the daughter of a\nking. The coffin was placed on the side of the mountain, and each of\nthem watched it by turns, so that it was never left alone. And the birds\nof the air came near and mourned for Snow-white; first the owl, then the\nraven, and at last the dove. Snow-white lay for a long, long time in the\nglass coffin, but showed not the least signs of decay. It seemed as if\nshe slept; for her skin was snow white, her cheeks rosy red, and her\nhair black as ebony.\n\nIt happened one day that the son of a king, while riding in the forest,\ncame by chance upon the dwarfs' house and asked for a night's lodging.\nAs he left the next morning he saw the coffin on the mountain-side, with\nbeautiful Snow-white lying in it, and read what was written upon the lid\nin letters of gold.\n\nThen he said to the dwarfs, \"Let me have this coffin, and I will give\nyou for it whatever you ask.\"\n\nBut the elder dwarf answered, \"We would not give it thee for all the\ngold in the world.\"\n\nBut the prince answered, \"Let me have it as a gift, then. I know not\nwhy, but my heart is drawn towards this beautiful child, and I feel I\ncannot live without her. If you will let me have her, she shall be\ntreated with the greatest honour and respect as one dearly beloved.\"\n\nAs he thus spoke the good little dwarfs were full of sympathy for him,\nand gave him the coffin. Then the prince called his servants, and the\ncoffin was placed on their shoulders, and they carried it away, followed\nby the king's son, who watched it carefully. Now it happened that one of\nthem made a false step and stumbled. This shook the coffin, and caused\nthe poisoned piece of apple which Snow-white had bitten to roll out of\nher mouth. A little while after she suddenly opened her eyes, lifted up\nthe coffin-lid, raised herself and was again alive.\n\n\"Oh! where am I?\" she cried.\n\nFull of joy, the king's son approached her, and said, \"Dear Snow-white,\nyou are safe; you are with me.\"\n\nThen he related to her all that had happened, and what the little dwarfs\nhad told him about her, and said at last, \"I love you better than all in\nthe world besides, dear little Snow-white, and you must come with me to\nmy father's castle and be my wife.\"\n\nThen was Snow-white taken out of the coffin and placed in a carriage to\ntravel with the prince, and the king was so pleased with his son's\nchoice that the marriage was soon after celebrated with great pomp and\nmagnificence.\n\nNow it happened that the stepmother of Snow-white was invited, among\nother guests, to the wedding-feast. Before she left her house she stood\nin all her rich dress before the magic mirror to admire her own\nappearance, but she could not help saying;\n\n    \"Mirror, mirror on the wall,\n     Am I most beautiful of all?\"\n\nThen to her surprise the mirror replied:\n\n  \"Fair queen, thou art the fairest here,\n     But at the palace, now,\n   The bride will prove a thousand times\n     More beautiful than thou.\"\n\nThen the wicked woman uttered a curse, and was so dreadfully alarmed\nthat she knew not what to do. At first she declared she would not go to\nthis wedding at all, but she felt it impossible to rest until she had\nseen the bride, so she determined to go. But what was her astonishment\nand vexation when she recognised in the young bride Snow-white herself,\nnow grown a charming young woman, and richly dressed in royal robes! Her\nrage and terror were so great that she stood still and could not move\nfor some minutes. At last she went into the ballroom, but the slippers\nshe wore were to her as iron bands full of coals of fire, in which she\nwas obliged to dance. And so in the red, glowing shoes she continued to\ndance till she fell dead on the floor, a sad example of envy and\njealousy.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nTHE ENCHANTED STAG\n\n\nThere were once a brother and sister who loved each other dearly; their\nmother was dead, and their father had married again a woman who was most\nunkind and cruel to them. One day the boy took his sister's hand, and\nsaid to her, \"Dear little sister, since our mother died we have not had\none happy hour. Our stepmother gives us dry hard crusts for dinner and\nsupper; she often knocks us about, and threatens to kick us out of the\nhouse. Even the little dogs under the table fare better than we do, for\nshe often throws them nice pieces to eat. Heaven pity us! Oh, if our\ndear mother knew! Come, let us go out into the wide world!\"\n\nSo they went out, and wandered over fields and meadows the whole day\ntill evening. At last they found themselves in a large forest; it began\nto rain, and the little sister said, \"See, brother, heaven and our\nhearts weep together.\" At last, tired out with hunger and sorrow, and\nthe long journey, they crept into a hollow tree, laid themselves down,\nand slept till morning.\n\nWhen they awoke the sun was high in the heavens, and shone brightly into\nthe hollow tree, so they left their place of shelter and wandered away\nin search of water.\n\n\"Oh, I am so thirsty!\" said the boy. \"If we could only find a brook or a\nstream.\" He stopped to listen, and said, \"Stay, I think I hear a running\nstream.\" So he took his sister by the hand, and they ran together to\nfind it.\n\nNow, the stepmother of these poor children was a wicked witch. She had\nseen the children go away, and, following them cautiously like a snake,\nhad bewitched all the springs and streams in the forest. The pleasant\ntrickling of a brook over the pebbles was heard by the children as they\nreached it, and the boy was just stooping to drink, when the sister\nheard in the babbling of the brook:\n\n    \"Whoever drinks of me, a tiger soon will be.\"\n\nThen she cried quickly, \"Stay, brother, stay! do not drink, or you will\nbecome a wild beast, and tear me to pieces.\"\n\nThirsty as he was, the brother conquered his desire to drink at her\nwords, and said, \"Dear sister, I will wait till we come to a spring.\" So\nthey wandered farther, but as they approached, she heard in the bubbling\nspring the words--\n\n    \"Who drinks of me, a wolf will be.\"\n\n\"Brother, I pray you, do not drink of this brook; you will be changed\ninto a wolf, and devour me.\"\n\nAgain the brother denied himself and promised to wait; but he said, \"At\nthe next stream I must drink, say what you will, my thirst is so great.\"\n\nNot far off ran a pretty streamlet, looking clear and bright; but here\nalso in its murmuring waters, the sister heard the words--\n\n    \"Who dares to drink of me,\n     Turned to a stag will be.\"\n\n\"Dear brother, do not drink,\" she began; but she was too late, for her\nbrother had already knelt by the stream to drink, and as the first drop\nof water touched his lips he became a fawn. How the little sister wept\nover the enchanted brother, and the fawn wept also.\n\nHe did not run away, but stayed close to her; and at last she said,\n\"Stand still, dear fawn; don't fear, I must take care of you, but I will\nnever leave you.\" So she untied her little golden garter and fastened it\nround the neck of the fawn; then she gathered some soft green rushes,\nand braided them into a soft string, which she fastened to the fawn's\ngolden collar, and then led him away into the depths of the forest.\n\nAfter wandering about for some time, they at last found a little\ndeserted hut, and the sister was overjoyed, for she thought it would\nform a nice shelter for them both. So she led the fawn in, and then went\nout alone, to gather moss and dried leaves, to make him a soft bed.\n\nEvery morning she went out to gather dried roots, nuts, and berries, for\nher own food, and sweet fresh grass for the fawn, which he ate out of\nher hand, and the poor little animal went out with her, and played about\nas happy as the day was long.\n\nWhen evening came, and the poor sister felt tired, she would kneel down\nand say her prayers, and then lay her delicate head on the fawn's back,\nwhich was a soft warm pillow, on which she could sleep peacefully. Had\nthis dear brother only kept his own proper form, how happy they would\nhave been together! After they had been alone in the forest for some\ntime, and the little sister had grown a lovely maiden, and the fawn a\nlarge stag, a numerous hunting party came to the forest, and amongst\nthem the king of the country.\n\nThe sounding horn, the barking of the dogs, the holloa of the huntsmen,\nresounded through the forest, and were heard by the stag, who became\neager to join his companions.\n\n\"Oh dear,\" he said, \"do let me go and see the hunt; I cannot restrain\nmyself.\" And he begged so hard that at last she reluctantly consented.\n\n\"But remember,\" she said, \"I must lock the cottage door against those\nhuntsmen, so when you come back in the evening, and knock, I shall not\nadmit you, unless you say, 'Dear little sister let me in.'\"\n\nHe bounded off as she spoke, scarcely stopping to listen, for it was so\ndelightful for him to breathe the fresh air and be free again.\n\nHe had not run far when the king's chief hunter caught sight of the\nbeautiful animal, and started off in chase of him; but it was no easy\nmatter to overtake such rapid footsteps. Once, when he thought he had\nhim safe, the fawn sprang over the bushes and disappeared.\n\nAs it was now nearly dark, he ran up to the little cottage, knocked at\nthe door, and cried, \"Dear little sister, let me in.\" The door was\ninstantly opened, and oh, how glad his sister was to see him safely\nresting on his soft pleasant bed!\n\nA few days after this, the huntsmen were again in the forest; and when\nthe fawn heard the holloa, he could not rest in peace, but begged his\nsister again to let him go.\n\nShe opened the door, and said, \"I will let you go this time; but pray do\nnot forget to say what I told you, when you return this evening.\"\n\nThe chief hunter very soon espied the beautiful fawn with the golden\ncollar, pointed it out to the king, and they determined to hunt it.\n\nThey chased him with all their skill till the evening; but he was too\nlight and nimble for them to catch, till a shot wounded him slightly in\nthe foot, so that he was obliged to hide himself in the bushes, and,\nafter the huntsmen were gone, limp slowly home.\n\nOne of them, however, determined to follow him at a distance, and\ndiscover where he went. What was his surprise at seeing him go up to a\ndoor and knock, and to hear him say, \"Dear little sister, let me in.\"\nThe door was only opened a little way, and quickly shut; but the\nhuntsman had seen enough to make him full of wonder, when he returned\nand described to the king what he had seen.\n\n\"We will have one more chase to-morrow,\" said the king, \"and discover\nthis mystery.\"\n\nIn the meantime the loving sister was terribly alarmed at finding the\nstag's foot wounded and bleeding. She quickly washed off the blood, and,\nafter bathing the wound, placed healing herbs on it, and said, \"Lie down\non your bed, dear fawn, and the wound will soon heal, if you rest your\nfoot.\"\n\nIn the morning the wound was so much better that the fawn felt the foot\nalmost as strong as ever, and so, when he again heard the holloa of the\nhunters, he could not rest. \"Oh, dear sister, I must go once more; it\nwill be easy for me to avoid the hunters now, and my foot feels quite\nwell; they will not hunt me unless they see me running, and I don't mean\nto do that.\"\n\nBut his sister wept, and begged him not to go: \"If they kill you, dear\nfawn, I shall be here alone in the forest, forsaken by the whole world.\"\n\n\"And I shall die of grief,\" he said, \"if I remain here listening to the\nhunter's horn.\"\n\nSo at length his sister, with a heavy heart, set him free, and he\nbounded away joyfully into the forest.\n\nAs soon as the king caught sight of him, he said to the huntsmen,\n\"Follow that stag about, but don't hurt him.\" So they hunted him all\nday, but at the approach of sunset the king said to the hunter who had\nfollowed the fawn the day before, \"Come and show me the little cottage.\"\n\nSo they went together, and when the king saw it he sent his companion\nhome, and went on alone so quickly that he arrived there before the\nfawn; and, going up to the little door, knocked and said softly, \"Dear\nlittle sister, let me in.\"\n\nAs the door opened, the king stepped in, and in great astonishment saw a\nmaiden more beautiful than he had ever seen in his life standing before\nhim. But how frightened she felt to see instead of her dear little fawn\na noble gentleman walk in with a gold crown on his head.\n\nHowever, he appeared very friendly, and after a little talk he held out\nhis hand to her, and said, \"Wilt thou go with me to my castle and be my\ndear wife?\"\n\n\"Ah yes,\" replied the maiden, \"I would willingly; but I cannot leave my\ndear fawn: he must go with me wherever I am.\"\n\n\"He shall remain with you as long as you live,\" replied the king, \"and I\nwill never ask you to forsake him.\"\n\nWhile they were talking, the fawn came bounding in, looking quite well\nand happy. Then his sister fastened the string of rushes to his collar,\ntook it in her hand, and led him away from the cottage in the wood to\nwhere the king's beautiful horse waited for him.\n\nThe king placed the maiden before him on his horse and rode away to his\ncastle, the fawn following by their side. Soon after, their marriage was\ncelebrated with great splendour, and the fawn was taken the greatest\ncare of, and played where he pleased, or roamed about the castle grounds\nin happiness and safety.\n\nIn the meantime the wicked stepmother, who had caused these two young\npeople such misery, supposed that the sister had been devoured by wild\nbeasts, and that the fawn had been hunted to death. Therefore when she\nheard of their happiness, such envy and malice arose in her heart that\nshe could find no rest till she had tried to destroy it.\n\nShe and her ugly daughter came to the castle when the queen had a little\nbaby, and one of them pretended to be a nurse, and at last got the\nmother and child into their power.\n\nThey shut the queen up in the bath, and tried to suffocate her, and the\nold woman put her own ugly daughter in the queen's bed that the king\nmight not know she was away.\n\nShe would not, however, let him speak to her, but pretended that she\nmust be kept quite quiet.\n\nThe queen escaped from the bath-room, where the wicked old woman had\nlocked her up, but she did not go far, as she wanted to watch over her\nchild and the little fawn.\n\nFor two nights the baby's nurse saw a figure of the queen come into the\nroom and take up her baby and nurse it. Then she told the king, and he\ndetermined to watch himself. The old stepmother, who acted as nurse to\nher ugly daughter, whom she tried to make the king believe was his wife,\nhad said that the queen was too weak to see him, and never left her\nroom. \"There cannot be two queens,\" said the king to himself, \"so\nto-night I will watch in the nursery.\" As soon as the figure came in and\ntook up her baby, he saw it was his real wife, and caught her in his\narms, saying, \"You are my own beloved wife, as beautiful as ever.\"\n\nThe wicked witch had thrown her into a trance, hoping she would die, and\nthat the king would then marry her daughter; but on the king speaking to\nher, the spell was broken. The queen told the king how cruelly she had\nbeen treated by her stepmother, and on hearing this he became very\nangry, and had the witch and her daughter brought to justice. They were\nboth sentenced to die--the daughter to be devoured by wild beasts, and\nthe mother to be burnt alive.\n\nNo sooner, however, was she reduced to ashes than the charm which held\nthe queen's brother in the form of a stag was broken; he recovered his\nown natural shape, and appeared before them a tall, handsome young man.\n\nAfter this, the brother and sister lived happily and peacefully for the\nrest of their lives.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nHANSEL AND GRETHEL\n\n\nNear the borders of a large forest dwelt in olden times a poor\nwood-cutter, who had two children--a boy named Hansel, and his sister,\nGrethel. They had very little to live upon, and once when there was a\ndreadful season of scarcity in the land, the poor wood-cutter could not\nearn sufficient to supply their daily food.\n\nOne evening, after the children were gone to bed, the parents sat\ntalking together over their sorrow, and the poor husband sighed, and\nsaid to his wife, who was not the mother of his children, but their\nstepmother, \"What will become of us, for I cannot earn enough to support\nmyself and you, much less the children? what shall we do with them, for\nthey must not starve?\"\n\n\"I know what to do, husband,\" she replied; \"early to-morrow morning we\nwill take the children for a walk across the forest and leave them in\nthe thickest part; they will never find the way home again, you may\ndepend, and then we shall only have to work for ourselves.\"\n\n\"No, wife,\" said the man, \"that I will never do. How could I have the\nheart to leave my children all alone in the wood, where the wild beasts\nwould come quickly and devour them?\"\n\n\"Oh, you fool,\" replied the stepmother, \"if you refuse to do this, you\nknow we must all four perish with hunger; you may as well go and cut the\nwood for our coffins.\" And after this she let him have no peace till he\nbecame quite worn out, and could not sleep for hours, but lay thinking\nin sorrow about his children.\n\nThe two children, who also were too hungry to sleep, heard all that\ntheir stepmother had said to their father. Poor little Grethel wept\nbitter tears as she listened, and said to her brother, \"What is going to\nhappen to us, Hansel?\"\n\n\"Hush, Grethel,\" he whispered, \"don't be so unhappy; I know what to do.\"\n\nThen they lay quite still till their parents were asleep.\n\nAs soon as it was quiet, Hansel got up, put on his little coat,\nunfastened the door, and slipped out The moon shone brightly, and the\nwhite pebble stones which lay before the cottage door glistened like new\nsilver money. Hansel stooped and picked up as many of the pebbles as he\ncould stuff in his little coat pockets. He then went back to Grethel and\nsaid, \"Be comforted, dear little sister, and sleep in peace; heaven will\ntake care of us.\" Then he laid himself down again in bed, and slept till\nthe day broke.\n\nAs soon as the sun was risen, the stepmother came and woke the two\nchildren, and said, \"Get up, you lazy bones, and come into the wood with\nme to gather wood for the fire.\" Then she gave each of them a piece of\nbread, and said, \"You must keep that to eat for your dinner, and don't\nquarrel over it, for you will get nothing more.\"\n\nGrethel took the bread under her charge, for Hansel's pockets were full\nof pebbles. Then the stepmother led them a long way into the forest.\nThey had gone but a very short distance when Hansel looked back at the\nhouse, and this he did again and again.\n\nAt last his stepmother said, \"Why do you keep staying behind and looking\nback so?\"\n\n\"Oh, mother,\" said the boy, \"I can see my little white cat sitting on\nthe roof of the house, and I am sure she is crying for me.\"\n\n\"Nonsense,\" she replied; \"that is not your cat; it is the morning sun\nshining on the chimney-pot.\"\n\nHansel had seen no cat, but he stayed behind every time to drop a white\npebble from his pocket on the ground as they walked.\n\nAs soon as they reached a thick part of the wood, their stepmother said:\n\n\"Come, children, gather some wood, and I will make a fire, for it is\nvery cold here.\"\n\nThen Hansel and Grethel raised quite a high heap of brushwood and\nfaggots, which soon blazed up into a bright fire, and the woman said to\nthem:\n\n\"Sit down here, children, and rest, while I go and find your father, who\nis cutting wood in the forest; when we have finished our work, we will\ncome again and fetch you.\"\n\nHansel and Grethel seated themselves by the fire, and when noon arrived\nthey each ate the piece of bread which their stepmother had given them\nfor their dinner; and as long as they heard the strokes of the axe they\nfelt safe, for they believed that their father was working near them.\nBut it was not an axe they heard--only a branch which still hung on a\nwithered tree, and was moved up and down by the wind. At last, when they\nhad been sitting there a long time, the children's eyes became heavy\nwith fatigue, and they fell fast asleep. When they awoke it was dark\nnight, and poor Grethel began to cry, and said, \"Oh, how shall we get\nout of the wood?\"\n\nBut Hansel comforted her. \"Don't fear,\" he said; \"let us wait a little\nwhile till the moon rises, and then we shall easily find our way home.\"\n\nVery soon the full moon rose, and then Hansel took his little sister by\nthe hand, and the white pebble stones, which glittered like newly-coined\nmoney in the moonlight, and which Hansel had dropped as he walked,\npointed out the way. They walked all the night through, and did not\nreach their father's house till break of day.\n\nThey knocked at the door, and when their stepmother opened it, she\nexclaimed: \"You naughty children, why have you been staying so long in\nthe forest? we thought you were never coming back,\" But their father was\noverjoyed to see them, for it grieved him to the heart to think that\nthey had been left alone in the wood.\n\nNot long after this there came another time of scarcity and want in\nevery house, and the children heard their stepmother talking after they\nwere in bed. \"The times are as bad as ever,\" she said; \"we have just\nhalf a loaf left, and when that is gone all love will be at an end. The\nchildren must go away; we will take them deeper into the forest this\ntime, and they will not be able to find their way home as they did\nbefore; it is the only plan to save ourselves from starvation.\" But the\nhusband felt heavy at heart, for he thought it was better to share the\nlast morsel with his children.\n\nHis wife would listen to nothing he said, but continued to reproach him,\nand as he had given way to her the first time, he could not refuse to do\nso now. The children were awake, and heard all the conversation; so, as\nsoon as their parents slept, Hansel got up, intending to go out and\ngather some more of the bright pebbles to let fall as he walked, that\nthey might point out the way home; but his stepmother had locked the\ndoor, and he could not open it. When he went back to his bed he told his\nlittle sister not to fret, but to go to sleep in peace, for he was sure\nthey would be taken care of.\n\nEarly the next morning the stepmother came and pulled the children out\nof bed, and, when they were dressed, gave them each a piece of bread for\ntheir dinners, smaller than they had had before, and then they started\non their way to the wood.\n\nAs they walked, Hansel, who had the bread in his pocket, broke off\nlittle crumbs, and stopped every now and then to drop one, turning round\nas if he was looking back at his home.\n\n\"Hansel,\" said the woman, \"what are you stopping for in that way? Come\nalong directly.\"\n\n\"I saw my pigeon sitting on the roof, and he wants to say good-bye to\nme,\" replied the boy.\n\n\"Nonsense,\" she said; \"that is not your pigeon; it is only the morning\nsun shining on the chimney-top.\"\n\nBut Hansel did not look back any more; he only dropped pieces of bread\nbehind him, as they walked through the wood. This time they went on till\nthey reached the thickest and densest part of the forest, where they had\nnever been before in all their lives. Again they gathered faggots and\nbrushwood, of which the stepmother made up a large fire. Then she said,\n\"Remain here, children, and rest, while I go to help your father, who is\ncutting wood in the forest; when you feel tired, you can lie down and\nsleep for a little while, and we will come and fetch you in the evening,\nwhen your father has finished his work.\"\n\nSo the children remained alone till mid-day, and then Grethel shared her\npiece of bread with Hansel, for he had scattered his own all along the\nroad as they walked. After this they slept for awhile, and the evening\ndrew on; but no one came to fetch the poor children. When they awoke it\nwas quite dark, and poor little Grethel was afraid; but Hansel comforted\nher, as he had done before, by telling her they need only wait till the\nmoon rose. \"You know, little sister,\" he said, \"that I have thrown\nbreadcrumbs all along the road we came, and they will easily point out\nthe way home.\"\n\nBut when they went out of the thicket into the moonlight they found no\nbreadcrumbs, for the numerous birds which inhabited the trees of the\nforest had picked them all up.\n\nHansel tried to hide his fear when he made this sad discovery, and said\nto his sister, \"Cheer up, Grethel; I dare say we shall find our way home\nwithout the crumbs. Let us try.\" But this they found impossible. They\nwandered about the whole night, and the next day from morning till\nevening; but they could not get out of the wood, and were so hungry that\nhad it not been for a few berries which they picked they must have\nstarved.\n\nAt last they were so tired that their poor little legs could carry them\nno farther; so they laid themselves down under a tree and went to sleep.\nWhen they awoke it was the third morning since they had left their\nfather's house, and they determined to try once more to find their way\nhome; but it was no use, they only went still deeper into the wood, and\nknew that if no help came they must starve.\n\nAbout noon, they saw a beautiful snow-white bird sitting on the branch\nof a tree, and singing so beautifully that they stood still to listen.\nWhen he had finished his song, he spread out his wings and flew on\nbefore them. The children followed him, till at last they saw at a\ndistance a small house; and the bird flew and perched on the roof.\n\nBut how surprised were the boy and girl, when they came nearer, to find\nthat the house was built of gingerbread, and ornamented with sweet cakes\nand tarts, while the window was formed of barley-sugar. \"Oh!\" exclaimed\nHansel, \"let us stop here and have a splendid feast. I will have a piece\nfrom the roof first, Grethel; and you can eat some of the barley-sugar\nwindow, it tastes so nice.\" Hansel reached up on tiptoe, and breaking\noff a piece of the gingerbread, he began to eat with all his might, for\nhe was very hungry. Grethel seated herself on the doorstep, and began\nmunching away at the cakes of which it was made. Presently a voice came\nout of the cottage:\n\n  \"Munching, crunching, munching,\n   Who's eating up my house?\"\n\nThen answered the children:\n\n    \"The wind, the wind,\n     Only the wind,\"\n\nand went on eating as if they never meant to leave off, without a\nsuspicion of wrong. Hansel, who found the cake on the roof taste very\ngood, broke off another large piece, and Grethel had just taken out a\nwhole pane of barley-sugar from the window, and seated herself to eat\nit, when the door opened, and a strange-looking old woman came out\nleaning on a stick.\n\nHansel and Grethel were so frightened that they let fall what they held\nin their hands. The old woman shook her head at them, and said, \"Ah, you\ndear children, who has brought you here? Come in, and stay with me for a\nlittle while, and there shall no harm happen to you.\" She seized them\nboth by the hands as she spoke, and led them into the house. She gave\nthem for supper plenty to eat and drink--milk and pancakes and sugar,\napples and nuts; and when evening came, Hansel and Grethel were shown\ntwo beautiful little beds with white curtains, and they lay down in them\nand thought they were in heaven.\n\nBut although the old woman pretended to be friendly, she was a wicked\nwitch, who had her house built of gingerbread on purpose to entrap\nchildren. When once they were in her power, she would feed them well\ntill they got fat, and then kill them and cook them for her dinner; and\nthis she called her feast-day. Fortunately the witch had weak eyes, and\ncould not see very well; but she had a very keen scent, as wild animals\nhave, and could easily discover when human beings were near. As Hansel\nand Grethel had approached her cottage, she laughed to herself\nmaliciously, and said, with a sneer: \"I have them now; they shall not\nescape from me again!\"\n\nEarly in the morning, before the children were awake, she was up,\nstanding by their beds; and when she saw how beautiful they looked in\ntheir sleep, with their round rosy cheeks, she muttered to herself,\n\"What nice tit-bits they will be!\" Then she laid hold of Hansel with her\nrough hand, dragged him out of bed, and led him to a little cage which\nhad a lattice-door, and shut him in; he might scream as much as he\nwould, but it was all useless.\n\nAfter this she went back to Grethel, and, shaking her roughly till she\nwoke, cried: \"Get up, you lazy hussy, and draw some water, that I may\nboil something good for your brother, who is shut up in a cage outside\ntill he gets fat; and then I shall cook him and eat him!\" When Grethel\nheard this she began to cry bitterly; but it was all useless, she was\nobliged to do as the wicked witch told her.\n\nFor poor Hansel's breakfast the best of everything was cooked; but\nGrethel had nothing for herself but a crab's claw. Every morning the old\nwoman would go out to the little cage, and say: \"Hansel, stick out your\nfinger, that I may feel if you are fat enough for eating.\" But Hansel,\nwho knew how dim her old eyes were, always stuck a bone through the bars\nof his cage, which she thought was his finger, for she could not see;\nand when she felt how thin it was, she wondered very much why he did not\nget fat.\n\nHowever, as the weeks went on, and Hansel seemed not to get any fatter,\nshe became impatient, and said she could not wait any longer. \"Go,\nGrethel,\" she cried to the maiden, \"be quick and draw water; Hansel may\nbe fat or lean, I don't care, to-morrow morning I mean to kill him, and\ncook him!\"\n\nOh! how the poor little sister grieved when she was forced to draw the\nwater; and, as the tears rolled down her cheeks, she exclaimed: \"It\nwould have been better to be eaten by wild beasts, or to have been\nstarved to death in the woods; then we should have died together!\"\n\n\"Stop your crying!\" cried the old woman; \"it is not of the least use, no\none will come to help you.\"\n\nEarly in the morning Grethel was obliged to go out and fill the great\npot with water, and hang it over the fire to boil. As soon as this was\ndone, the old woman said, \"We will bake some bread first; I have made\nthe oven hot, and the dough is already kneaded.\" Then she dragged poor\nlittle Grethel up to the oven door, under which the flames were burning\nfiercely, and said: \"Creep in there, and see if it is hot enough yet to\nbake the bread.\" But if Grethel had obeyed her, she would have shut the\npoor child in and baked her for dinner, instead of boiling Hansel.\n\nGrethel, however, guessed what she wanted to do, and said, \"I don't know\nhow to get in through that narrow door.\"\n\n\"Stupid goose,\" said the old woman, \"why, the oven door is quite large\nenough for me; just look, I could get in myself.\" As she spoke she\nstepped forward and pretended to put her head in the oven.\n\nA sudden thought gave Grethel unusual strength; she started forward,\ngave the old woman a push which sent her right into the oven, then she\nshut the iron door and fastened the bolt.\n\nOh! how the old witch did howl, it was quite horrible to hear her. But\nGrethel ran away, and therefore she was left to burn, just as she had\nleft many poor little children to burn. And how quickly Grethel ran to\nHansel, opened the door of his cage, and cried, \"Hansel, Hansel, we are\nfree; the old witch is dead.\" He flew like a bird out of his cage at\nthese words as soon as the door was opened, and the children were so\noverjoyed that they ran into each other's arms, and kissed each other\nwith the greatest love.\n\nAnd now that there was nothing to be afraid of, they went back into the\nhouse, and while looking round the old witch's room, they saw an old oak\nchest, which they opened, and found it full of pearls and precious\nstones. \"These are better than pebbles,\" said Hansel; and he filled his\npockets as full as they would hold.\n\n\"I will carry some home too,\" said Grethel, and she held out her apron,\nwhich held quite as much as Hansel's pockets.\n\n\"We will go now,\" he said, \"and get away as soon as we can from this\nenchanted forest.\"\n\nThey had been walking for nearly two hours when they came to a large\nsheet of water.\n\n\"What shall we do now?\" said the boy. \"We cannot get across, and there\nis no bridge of any sort.\"\n\n\"Oh! here comes a boat,\" cried Grethel, but she was mistaken; it was\nonly a white duck which came swimming towards the children. \"Perhaps she\nwill help us across if we ask her,\" said the child; and she sung,\n\"Little duck, do help poor Hansel and Grethel; there is not a bridge,\nnor a boat--will you let us sail across on your white back?\"\n\nThe good-natured duck came near the bank as Grethel spoke, so close\nindeed that Hansel could seat himself and wanted to take his little\nsister on his lap, but she said, \"No, we shall be too heavy for the kind\nduck; let her take us over one at a time.\"\n\nThe good creature did as the children wished; she carried Grethel over\nfirst, and then came back for Hansel. And then how happy the children\nwere to find themselves in a part of the wood which they remembered\nquite well, and as they walked on, the more familiar it became, till at\nlast they caught sight of their father's house. Then they began to run,\nand, bursting into the room, threw themselves into their father's arms.\n\nPoor man, he had not had a moment's peace since the children had been\nleft alone in the forest; he was full of joy at finding them safe and\nwell again, and now they had nothing to fear, for their wicked\nstepmother was dead.\n\nBut how surprised the poor wood-cutter was when Grethel opened and shook\nher little apron to see the glittering pearls and precious stones\nscattered about the room, while Hansel drew handful after handful from\nhis pockets. From this moment all his care and sorrow was at an end, and\nthe father lived in happiness with his children till his death.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nTHE STORY OF ALADDIN; OR, THE WONDERFUL LAMP\n\n\nIn one of the large and rich cities of China, there once lived a tailor\nnamed Mustapha. He was very poor. He could hardly, by his daily labour,\nmaintain himself and his family, which consisted only of his wife and a\nson.\n\nHis son, who was called Aladdin, was a very careless and idle fellow. He\nwas disobedient to his father and mother, and would go out early in the\nmorning and stay out all day, playing in the streets and public places\nwith idle children of his own age.\n\nWhen he was old enough to learn a trade, his father took him into his\nown shop, and taught him how to use his needle; but all his father's\nendeavours to keep him to his work were vain, for no sooner was his back\nturned, than he was gone for that day, Mustapha chastised him, but\nAladdin was incorrigible, and his father, to his great grief, was forced\nto abandon him to his idleness; and was so much troubled about him, that\nhe fell sick and died in a few months.\n\nAladdin, who was now no longer restrained by the fear of a father, gave\nhimself entirely over to his idle habits, and was never out of the\nstreets from his companions. This course he followed till he was fifteen\nyears old, without giving his mind to any useful pursuit, or the least\nreflection on what would become of him. As he was one day playing,\naccording to custom, in the street, with his evil associates, a stranger\npassing by stood to observe him.\n\nThis stranger was a sorcerer, known as the African magician, as he had\nbeen but two days arrived from Africa, his native country.\n\nThe African magician, observing in Aladdin's countenance something which\nassured him that he was a fit boy for his purpose, inquired his name and\nhistory of some of his companions, and when he had learnt all he desired\nto know, went up to him, and taking him aside from his comrades, said,\n\"Child, was not your father called Mustapha the tailor?\" \"Yes, sir,\"\nanswered the boy, \"but he has been dead a long time.\"\n\nAt these words the African magician threw his arms about Aladdin's neck,\nand kissed him several times, with tears in his eyes, and said, \"I am\nyour uncle. Your worthy father was my own brother. I knew you at first\nsight, you are so like him.\" Then he gave Aladdin a handful of small\nmoney, saying, \"Go, my son, to your mother, give my love to her, and\ntell her that I will visit her to-morrow, that I may see where my good\nbrother lived so long, and ended his days.\"\n\nAladdin ran to his mother, overjoyed at the money his uncle had given\nhim. \"Mother,\" said he, \"have I an uncle?\" \"No, child,\" replied his\nmother, \"you have no uncle by your father's side or mine.\" \"I am just\nnow come,\" said Aladdin, \"from a man who says he is my uncle and my\nfather's brother. He cried and kissed me when I told him my father was\ndead, and gave me money, sending his love to you, and promising to come\nand pay you a visit, that he may see the house my father lived and died\nin.\" \"Indeed, child,\" replied the mother, \"your father had no brother,\nnor have you an uncle.\"\n\nThe next day the magician found Aladdin playing in another part of the\ntown, and embracing him as before, put two pieces of gold into his hand,\nand said to him, \"Carry this, child, to your mother; tell her that I\nwill come and see her to-night, and bid her get us something for supper;\nbut first show ms the house where you live.\"\n\nAladdin showed the African magician the house, and carried the two\npieces of gold to his mother, who went out and bought provisions; and\nconsidering she wanted various utensils, borrowed them of her\nneighbours. She spent the whole day in preparing the supper; and at\nnight, when it was ready, said to her son, \"Perhaps the stranger knows\nnot how to find our house; go and bring him, if you meet with him.\"\n\nAladdin was just ready to go, when the magician knocked at the door, and\ncame in loaded with wine and all sorts of fruits, which he brought for a\ndessert. After he had given what he brought into Aladdin's hands, he\nsaluted his mother, and desired her to show him the place where his\nbrother Mustapha used to sit on the sofa; and when she had so done, he\nfell down and kissed it several times, crying out, with tears in his\neyes, \"My poor brother! how unhappy am I, not to have come soon enough\nto give you one last embrace.\" Aladdin's mother desired him to sit down\nin the same place, but he declined. \"No,\" said he, \"I shall not do that;\nbut give me leave to sit opposite to it, that although I see not the\nmaster of a family so dear to me, I may at least behold the place where\nhe used to sit.\"\n\nWhen the magician had made choice of a place, and sat down, he began to\nenter into discourse with Aladdin's mother. \"My good sister,\" said he,\n\"do not be surprised at your never having seen me all the time you have\nbeen married to my brother Mustapha of happy memory. I have been forty\nyears absent from this country, which is my native place, as well as my\nlate brother's; and during that time have travelled into the Indies,\nPersia, Arabia, Syria, and Egypt, and afterward crossed over into\nAfrica, where I took up my abode. At last, as it is natural for a man, I\nwas desirous to see my native country again, and to embrace my dear\nbrother; and finding I had strength enough to undertake so long a\njourney, I made the necessary preparations, and set out. Nothing ever\nafflicted me so much as hearing of my brother's death. But God be\npraised for all things! It is a comfort for me to find, as it were, my\nbrother in a son, who has his most remarkable features.\"\n\nThe African magician perceiving that the widow wept at the remembrance\nof her husband, changed the conversation, and turning toward her son,\nasked him, \"What business do you follow? Are you of any trade?\"\n\nAt this question the youth hung down his head, and was not a little\nabashed when his mother answered \"Aladdin is an idle fellow. His father,\nwhen alive, strove all he could to teach him his trade, but could not\nsucceed; and since his death, notwithstanding all I can say to him, he\ndoes nothing but idle away his time in the streets, as you saw him,\nwithout considering he is no longer a child; and if you do not make him\nashamed of it, I despair of his ever coming to any good. For my part, I\nam resolved, one of these days, to turn him out of doors, and let him\nprovide for himself.\"\n\nAfter these words, Aladdin's mother burst into tears; and the magician\nsaid, \"This is not well, nephew; you must think of helping yourself, and\ngetting your livelihood. There are many sorts of trades; perhaps you do\nnot like your father's, and would prefer another; I will endeavour to\nhelp you. If you have no mind to learn any handicraft, I will take a\nshop for you, furnish it with all sorts of fine stuffs and linens; and\nthen with the money you make of them you can lay in fresh goods, and\nlive in an honourable way. Tell me freely what you think of my proposal;\nyou shall always find me ready to keep my word.\"\n\nThis plan just suited Aladdin, who hated work. He told the magician he\nhad a greater inclination to that business than to any other, and that\nhe should be much obliged to him for his kindness. \"Well then,\" said the\nAfrican magician, \"I will carry you with me to-morrow, clothe you as\nhandsomely as the best merchants in the city, and afterward we will open\na shop as I mentioned.\"\n\nThe widow, after his promises of kindness to her son, no longer doubted\nthat the magician was her husband's brother. She thanked him for his\ngood intentions; and after having exhorted Aladdin to render himself\nworthy of his uncle's favour, served up supper, at which they talked of\nseveral indifferent matters; and then the magician took his leave and\nretired.\n\nHe came again the next day, as he had promised, and took Aladdin with\nhim to a merchant, who sold all sorts of clothes for different ages and\nranks, ready made, and a variety of fine stuffs, and bade Aladdin choose\nthose he preferred, which he paid for.\n\nWhen Aladdin found himself so handsomely equipped, he returned his uncle\nthanks, who thus addressed him: \"As you are soon to be a merchant, it is\nproper you should frequent these shops, and be acquainted with them.\" He\nthen showed him the largest and finest mosques, carried him to the khans\nor inns where the merchants and travellers lodged, and afterward to the\nsultan's palace, where he had free access; and at last brought him to\nhis own khan, where, meeting with some merchants he had become\nacquainted with since his arrival, he gave them a treat, to bring them\nand his pretended nephew acquainted.\n\nThis entertainment lasted till night, when Aladdin would have taken\nleave of his uncle to go home; the magician would not let him go by\nhimself, but conducted him to his mother, who, as soon as she saw him so\nwell dressed, was transported with joy, and bestowed a thousand\nblessings upon the magician.\n\nEarly the next morning the magician called again for Aladdin, and said\nhe would take him to spend that day in the country, and on the next he\nwould purchase the shop. He then led him out at one of the gates of the\ncity, to some magnificent palaces, to each of which belonged beautiful\ngardens, into which anybody might enter. At every building he came to,\nhe asked Aladdin if he did not think it fine; and the youth was ready to\nanswer when any one presented itself, crying out, \"Here is a finer\nhouse, uncle, than any we have yet seen,\" By this artifice, the cunning\nmagician led Aladdin some way into the country; and as he meant to carry\nhim farther, to execute his design, he took an opportunity to sit down\nin one of the gardens, on the brink of a fountain of clear water, which\ndischarged itself by a lion's mouth of bronze into a basin, pretending\nto be tired: \"Come, nephew,\" said he, \"you must be weary as well as I;\nlet us rest ourselves, and we shall be better able to pursue our walk.\"\n\n\n\n\nThe magician next pulled from his girdle a handkerchief with cakes and\nfruit, and during this short repast he exhorted his nephew to leave off\nbad company, and to seek that of wise and prudent men, to improve by\ntheir conversation; \"for,\" said he, \"you will soon be at man's estate,\nand you cannot too early begin to imitate their example.\" When they had\neaten as much as they liked, they got up, and pursued their walk through\ngardens separated from one another only by small ditches, which marked\nout the limits without interrupting the communication; so great was the\nconfidence the inhabitants reposed in each other. By this means the\nAfrican magician drew Aladdin insensibly beyond the gardens, and crossed\nthe country, till they nearly reached the mountains.\n\nAt last they arrived between two mountains of moderate height and equal\nsize, divided by a narrow valley, which was the place where the magician\nintended to execute the design that had brought him from Africa to\nChina. \"We will go no farther now,\" said he to Aladdin; \"I will show you\nhere some extraordinary things, which, when you have seen, you will\nthank me for: but while I strike a light, gather up all the loose dry\nsticks you can see, to kindle a fire with.\"\n\nAladdin found so many dried sticks, that he soon collected a great heap.\nThe magician presently set them on fire; and when they were in a blaze,\nthrew in some incense, pronouncing several magical words, which Aladdin\ndid not understand.\n\nHe had scarcely done so when the earth opened just before the magician,\nand discovered a stone with a brass ring fixed in it. Aladdin was so\nfrightened that he would have run away, but the magician caught hold of\nhim, and gave him such a box on the ear that he knocked him down.\nAladdin got up trembling, and with tears in his eyes said to the\nmagician, \"What have I done, uncle, to be treated in this severe\nmanner?\" \"I am your uncle,\" answered the magician; \"I supply the place\nof your father, and you ought to make no reply. But child,\" added he,\nsoftening, \"do not be afraid; for I shall not ask anything of you, but\nthat you obey me punctually, if you would reap the advantages which I\nintend you. Know, then, that under this stone there is hidden a\ntreasure, destined to be yours, and which will make you richer than the\ngreatest monarch in the world. No person but yourself is permitted to\nlift this stone, or enter the cave; so you must punctually execute what\nI may command, for it is a matter of great consequence both to you and\nme.\"\n\nAladdin, amazed at all he saw and heard, forgot what was past, and\nrising said, \"Well, uncle, what is to be done? Command me, I am ready to\nobey.\" \"I am overjoyed, child,\" said the African magician, embracing\nhim, \"Take hold of the ring, and lift up that stone.\" \"Indeed, uncle,\"\nreplied Aladdin, \"I am not strong enough; you must help me.\" \"You have\nno occasion for my assistance,\" answered the magician; \"if I help you,\nwe shall be able to do nothing. Take hold of the ring, and lift it up;\nyou will find it will come easily.\" Aladdin did as the magician bade\nhim, raised the stone with ease, and laid it on one side.\n\nWhen the stone was pulled up, there appeared a staircase about three or\nfour feet deep, leading to a door. \"Descend, my son,\" said the African\nmagician, \"those steps, and open that door. It will lead you into a\npalace, divided into three great halls. In each of these you will see\nfour large brass cisterns placed on each side, full of gold and silver;\nbut take care you do not meddle with them. Before you enter the first\nhall, be sure to tuck up your robe, wrap it about you, and then pass\nthrough the second into the third without stopping. Above all things,\nhave a care that you do not touch the walls so much as with your\nclothes; for if you do, you will die instantly. At the end of the third\nhall, you will find a door which opens into a garden, planted with fine\ntrees loaded with fruit. Walk directly across the garden to a terrace,\nwhere you will see a niche before you, and in that niche a lighted lamp.\nTake the lamp down and put it out. When you have thrown away the wick\nand poured out the liquor, put it in your waistband and bring it to me.\nDo not be afraid that the liquor will spoil your clothes, for it is not\noil, and the lamp will be dry as soon as it is thrown out.\"\n\nAfter these words the magician drew a ring off his finger, and put it on\none of Aladdin's, saying, \"It is a talisman against all evil, so long as\nyou obey me. Go, therefore, boldly, and we shall both be rich all our\nlives.\"\n\nAladdin descended the steps, and, opening the door, found the three\nhalls just as the African magician had described. He went through them\nwith all the precaution the fear of death could inspire, crossed the\ngarden without stopping, took down the lamp from the niche, threw out\nthe wick and the liquor, and, as the magician had desired, put it in his\nwaistband. But as he came down from the terrace, seeing it was perfectly\ndry, he stopped in the garden to observe the trees, which were loaded\nwith extraordinary fruit of different colours on each tree. Some bore\nfruit entirely white, and some clear and transparent as crystal; some\npale red, and others deeper; some green, blue, and purple, and others\nyellow; in short, there was fruit of all colours. The white were pearls;\nthe clear and transparent, diamonds; the deep red, rubies; the paler,\nbalas rubies; the green, emeralds; the blue, turquoises; the purple,\namethysts; and the yellow, sapphires. Aladdin, ignorant of their value,\nwould have preferred figs, or grapes, or pomegranates; but as he had his\nuncle's permission, he resolved to gather some of every sort. Having\nfilled the two new purses his uncle had bought for him with his clothes,\nhe wrapped some up in the skirts of his vest, and crammed his bosom as\nfull as it could hold.\n\nAladdin, having thus loaded himself with riches of which he knew not the\nvalue, returned through the three halls with the utmost precaution, and\nsoon arrived at the mouth of the cave, where the African magician\nawaited him with the utmost impatience. As soon as Aladdin saw him, he\ncried out, \"Pray, uncle, lend me your hand, to help me out.\" \"Give me\nthe lamp first,\" replied the magician; \"it will be troublesome to you,\"\n\"Indeed, uncle,\" answered Aladdin, \"I cannot now, but I will as soon as\nI am up.\" The African magician was determined that he would have the\nlamp before he would help him up; and Aladdin, who had encumbered\nhimself so much with his fruit that he could not well get at it, refused\nto give it to him till he was out of the cave. The African magician,\nprovoked at this obstinate refusal, flew into a passion, threw a little\nof his incense into the fire, and pronounced two magical words, when the\nstone which had closed the mouth of the staircase moved into its place,\nwith the earth over it in the same manner as it lay at the arrival of\nthe magician and Aladdin.\n\nThis action of the magician plainly revealed to Aladdin that he was no\nuncle of his, but one who designed him evil. The truth was that he had\nlearnt from his magic books the secret and the value of this wonderful\nlamp, the owner of which would be made richer than any earthly ruler,\nand hence his journey to China. His art had also told him that he was\nnot permitted to take it himself, but must receive it as a voluntary\ngift from the hands of another person. Hence he employed young Aladdin,\nand hoped by a mixture of kindness and authority to make him obedient to\nhis word and will. When he found that his attempt had failed, he set out\nto return to Africa, but avoided the town, lest any person who had seen\nhim leave in company with Aladdin should make inquiries after the youth.\nAladdin being suddenly enveloped in darkness, cried, and called out to\nhis uncle to tell him he was ready to give him the lamp; but in vain,\nsince his cries could not be heard. He descended to the bottom of the\nsteps, with a design to get into the palace, but the door, which was\nopened before by enchantment, was now shut by the same means. He then\nredoubled his cries and tears, sat down on the steps without any hopes\nof ever seeing light again, and in an expectation of passing from the\npresent darkness to a speedy death. In this great emergency he said,\n\"There is no strength or power but in the great and high God\"; and in\njoining his hands to pray he rubbed the ring which the magician had put\non his finger. Immediately a genie of frightful aspect appeared, and\nsaid, \"What wouldst thou have? I am ready to obey thee. I serve him who\npossesses the ring on thy finger; I, and the other slaves of that ring.\"\n\n\n\n\nAt another time Aladdin would have been frightened at the sight of so\nextraordinary a figure, but the danger he was in made him answer without\nhesitation, \"Whoever thou art, deliver me from this place.\" He had no\nsooner spoken these words, than he found himself on the very spot where\nthe magician had last left him, and no sign of cave or opening, nor\ndisturbance of the earth. Returning God thanks to find himself once more\nin the world, he made the best of his way home. When he got within his\nmother's door, the joy to see her and his weakness for want of\nsustenance made him so faint that he remained for a long time as dead.\nAs soon as he recovered, he related to his mother all that had happened\nto him, and they were both very vehement in their complaints of the\ncruel magician. Aladdin slept very soundly till late the next morning,\nwhen the first thing he said to his mother was, that he wanted something\nto eat, and wished she would give him his breakfast. \"Alas! child,\" said\nshe, \"I have not a bit of bread to give you; you ate up all the\nprovisions I had in the house yesterday; but I have a little cotton\nwhich I have spun; I will go and sell it, and buy bread and something\nfor our dinner.\" \"Mother,\" replied Aladdin, \"keep your cotton for\nanother time, and give me the lamp I brought home with me yesterday; I\nwill go and sell it, and the money I shall get for it will serve both\nfor breakfast and dinner, and perhaps supper too.\"\n\nAladdin's mother took the lamp and said to her son, \"Here it is, but it\nis very dirty; if it were a little cleaner I believe it would bring\nsomething more.\" She took some fine sand and water to clean it; but had\nno sooner begun to rub it, than in an instant a hideous genie of\ngigantic size appeared before her, and said to her in a voice of\nthunder, \"What wouldst thou have? I am ready to obey thee as thy slave,\nand the slave of all those who have that lamp in their hands; I and the\nother slaves of the lamp.\"\n\nAladdin's mother, terrified at the sight of the genie, fainted; when\nAladdin, who had seen such a phantom in the cavern, snatched the lamp\nout of his mother's hand, and said to the genie boldly, \"I am hungry,\nbring me something to eat.\" The genie disappeared immediately, and in an\ninstant returned with a large silver tray, holding twelve covered dishes\nof the same metal, which contained the most delicious viands; six large\nwhite bread cakes on two plates, two flagons of wine, and two silver\ncups. All these he placed upon a carpet and disappeared; this was done\nbefore Aladdin's mother recovered from her swoon.\n\nAladdin had fetched some water, and sprinkled it in her face to recover\nher. Whether that or the smell of the meat effected her cure, it was not\nlong before she came to herself. \"Mother,\" said Aladdin, \"be not afraid:\nget up and eat; here is what will put you in heart, and at the same time\nsatisfy my extreme hunger.\"\n\nHis mother was much surprised to see the great tray, twelve dishes, six\nloaves, the two flagons and cups, and to smell the savoury odour which\nexhaled from the dishes. \"Child,\" said she, \"to whom are we obliged for\nthis great plenty and liberality? Has the sultan been made acquainted\nwith our poverty, and had compassion on us?\" \"It is no matter, mother,\"\nsaid Aladdin, \"let us sit down and eat; for you have almost as much need\nof a good breakfast as myself; when we have done, I will tell you.\"\nAccordingly, both mother and son sat down and ate with the better relish\nas the table was so well furnished. But all the time Aladdin's mother\ncould not forbear looking at and admiring the tray and dishes, though\nshe could not judge whether they were silver or any other metal, and the\nnovelty more than the value attracted her attention.\n\nThe mother and son sat at breakfast till it was dinner-time, and then\nthey thought it would be best to put the two meals together; yet, after\nthis they found they should have enough left for supper, and two meals\nfor the next day.\n\nWhen Aladdin's mother had taken away and set by what was left, she went\nand sat down by her son on the sofa, saying, \"I expect now that you\nshould satisfy my impatience, and tell me exactly what passed between\nthe genie and you while I was in a swoon\"; which he readily complied\nwith.\n\nShe was in as great amazement at what her son told her, as at the\nappearance of the genie; and said to him, \"But, son, what have we to do\nwith genies? I never heard that any of my acquaintance had ever seen\none. How came that vile genie to address himself to me, and not to you,\nto whom he had appeared before in the cave?\" \"Mother,\" answered Aladdin,\n\"the genie you saw is not the one who appeared to me. If you remember,\nhe that I first saw called himself the slave of the ring on my finger;\nand this you saw, called himself the slave of the lamp you had in your\nhand; but I believe you did not hear him, for I think you fainted as\nsoon as he began to speak.\"\n\n\"What!\" cried the mother, \"was your lamp then the occasion of that\ncursed genie's addressing himself rather to me than to you? Ah! my son,\ntake it out of my sight, and put it where you please. I had rather you\nwould sell it than run the hazard of being frightened to death again by\ntouching it; and if you would take my advice, you would part also with\nthe ring, and not have anything to do with genies, who, as our prophet\nhas told us, are only devils.\"\n\n\"With your leave, mother,\" replied Aladdin, \"I shall now take care how I\nsell a lamp which may be so serviceable both to you and me. That false\nand wicked magician would not have undertaken so long a journey to\nsecure this wonderful lamp if he had not known its value to exceed that\nof gold and silver. And since we have honestly come by it, let us make a\nprofitable use of it, without making any great show, and exciting the\nenvy and jealousy of our neighbours. However, since the genies frighten\nyou so much, I will take it out of your sight, and put it where I may\nfind it when I want it. The ring I cannot resolve to part with; for\nwithout that you had never seen me again; and though I am alive now,\nperhaps, if it were gone, I might not be so some moments hence;\ntherefore, I hope you will give me leave to keep it, and to wear it\nalways on my finger.\" Aladdin's mother replied that he might do what he\npleased; for her part, she would have nothing to do with genies, and\nnever say anything more about them.\n\nBy the next night they had eaten all the provisions the genie had\nbrought; and the next day Aladdin, who could not bear the thoughts of\nhunger, putting one of the silver dishes tinder his vest, went out early\nto sell it, and addressing himself to a Jew whom he met in the streets,\ntook him aside, and pulling out the plate, asked him if he would buy it.\nThe cunning Jew took the dish, examined it, and as soon as he found that\nit was good silver, asked Aladdin at how much he valued it. Aladdin, who\nhad never been used to such traffic, told him he would trust to his\njudgment and honour. The Jew was somewhat confounded at this plain\ndealing; and doubting whether Aladdin understood the material or the\nfull value of what he offered to sell, took a piece of gold out of his\npurse and gave it him, though it was but the sixtieth part of the worth\nof the plate. Aladdin, taking the money very eagerly, retired with so\nmuch haste, that the Jew, not content with the exorbitancy of his\nprofit, was vexed he had not penetrated into his ignorance, and was\ngoing to run after him, to endeavour to get some change out of the piece\nof gold; but he ran so fast, and had got so far, that it would have been\nimpossible for him to overtake him.\n\nBefore Aladdin went home, he called at a baker's, bought some cakes of\nbread, changed his money, and on his return gave the rest to his mother,\nwho went and purchased provisions enough to last them some time. After\nthis manner they lived, till Aladdin had sold the twelve dishes singly,\nas necessity pressed, to the Jew, for the same money; who, after the\nfirst time, durst not offer him less, for fear of losing so good a\nbargain. When he had sold the last dish, he had recourse to the tray,\nwhich weighed ten times as much as the dishes, and would have carried it\nto his old purchaser, but that it was too large and cumbersome;\ntherefore he was obliged to bring him home with him to his mother's,\nwhere, after the Jew had examined the weight of the tray, he laid down\nten pieces of gold, with which Aladdin was very well satisfied.\n\nWhen all the money was spent, Aladdin had recourse again to the lamp. He\ntook it in his hands, looked for the part where his mother had rubbed it\nwith the sand, rubbed it also, when the genie immediately appeared, and\nsaid, \"What wouldst thou have? I am ready to obey thee as thy slave, and\nthe slave of all those who have that lamp in their hands; I, and the\nother slaves of the lamp.\" \"I am hungry,\" said Aladdin, \"bring me\nsomething to eat.\" The genie disappeared, and presently returned with a\ntray, the same number of covered dishes as before, set them down, and\nvanished.\n\nAs soon as Aladdin found that their provisions were again expended, he\ntook one of the dishes, and went to look for his Jew chapman; but\npassing by a goldsmith's shop, the goldsmith perceiving him, called to\nhim, and said, \"My lad, I imagine that you have something to sell to the\nJew, whom I often see you visit; but perhaps you do not know that he is\nthe greatest rogue even among the Jews. I will give you the full worth\nof what you have to sell, or I will direct you to other merchants who\nwill not cheat you.\"\n\nThis offer induced Aladdin to pull his plate from tinder his vest and\nshow it to the goldsmith; who at first sight saw that it was made of the\nfinest silver, and asked him if he had sold such as that to the Jew;\nwhen Aladdin told him that he had sold him twelve such, for a piece of\ngold each. \"What a villain!\" cried the goldsmith. \"But,\" added he, \"my\nson, what is past cannot be recalled. By showing you the value of this\nplate, which is of the finest silver we use in our shops, I will let you\nsee how much the Jew has cheated you.\"\n\nThe goldsmith took a pair of scales, weighed the dish, and assured him\nthat his plate would fetch by weight sixty pieces of gold, which he\noffered to pay down immediately.\n\nAladdin thanked him for his fair dealing, and never after went to any\nother person.\n\nThough Aladdin and his mother had an inexhaustible treasure in their\nlamp, and might have had whatever they wished for, yet they lived with\nthe same frugality as before, and it may easily be supposed that the\nmoney for which Aladdin had sold the dishes and tray was sufficient to\nmaintain them some time.\n\nDuring this interval, Aladdin frequented the shops of the principal\nmerchants, where they sold cloth of gold and silver, linens, silk\nstuffs, and jewellery, and, oftentimes joining in their conversation,\nacquired a knowledge of the world, and a desire to improve himself. By\nhis acquaintance among the jewellers, he came to know that the fruits\nwhich he had gathered when he took the lamp were, instead of coloured\nglass, stones of inestimable value; but he had the prudence not to\nmention this to any one, not even to his mother.\n\nOne day as Aladdin was walking about the town, he heard an order\nproclaimed, commanding the people to shut up their shops and houses, and\nkeep within doors while the Princess Buddir al Buddoor, the sultan's\ndaughter, went to the bath and returned.\n\nThis proclamation inspired Aladdin with eager desire to see the\nprincess's face, which he determined to gratify, by placing himself\nbehind the door of the bath, so that he could not fail to see her face.\n\nAladdin had not long concealed himself before the princess came. She was\nattended by a great crowd of ladies, slaves, and mutes, who walked on\neach side and behind her. When she came within three or four paces of\nthe door of the bath, she took off her veil, and gave Aladdin an\nopportunity of a full view of her face.\n\nThe princess was a noted beauty: her eyes were large, lively, and\nsparkling; her smile bewitching; her nose faultless; her mouth small;\nher lips vermilion. It is not therefore surprising that Aladdin, who had\nnever before seen such a blaze of charms, was dazzled and enchanted.\n\nAfter the princess had passed by, and entered the bath, Aladdin quitted\nhis hiding-place, and went home. His mother perceived him to be more\nthoughtful and melancholy than usual; and asked what had happened to\nmake him so, or if he was ill. He then told his mother all his\nadventure, and concluded by declaring, \"I love the princess more than I\ncan express, and am resolved that I will ask her in marriage of the\nsultan.\"\n\nAladdin's mother listened with surprise to what her son told her; but\nwhen he talked of asking the princess in marriage, she laughed aloud.\n\"Alas! child,\" said she, \"what are you thinking of? You must be mad to\ntalk thus.\"\n\n\"I assure you, mother,\" replied Aladdin, \"that I am not mad, but in my\nright senses. I foresaw that you would reproach me with folly and\nextravagance; but I must tell you once more, that I am resolved to\ndemand the princess of the sultan in marriage; nor do I despair of\nsuccess. I have the slaves of the lamp and of the ring to help me, and\nyou know how powerful their aid is. And I have another secret to tell\nyou: those pieces of glass, which I got from the trees in the garden of\nthe subterranean palace, are jewels of inestimable value, and fit fit\nfor the greatest monarchs. All the precious stones the jewellers have in\nBagdad are not to be compared to mine for size or beauty; and I am sure\nthat the offer of them will secure the favour of the sultan. You have a\nlarge porcelain dish fit to hold them; fetch it, and let us see how they\nwill look, when we have arranged them according to their different\ncolours.\"\n\nAladdin's mother brought the china dish, when he took the jewels out of\nthe two purses in which he had kept them, and placed them in order,\naccording to his fancy. But the brightness and lustre they emitted in\nthe daytime, and the variety of the colours, so dazzled the eyes both of\nmother and son, that they were astonished beyond measure. Aladdin's\nmother, emboldened by the sight of these rich jewels, and fearful lest\nher son should be guilty of greater extravagance, complied with his\nrequest, and promised to go early in the next morning to the palace of\nthe sultan. Aladdin rose before daybreak, awakened his mother, pressing\nher to go to the sultan's palace, and to get admittance, if possible,\nbefore the grand vizier, the other viziers, and the great officers of\nstate went in to take their seats in the divan, where the sultan always\nattended in person.\n\nAladdin's mother took the china dish, in which they had put the jewels\nthe day before, wrapped it in two fine napkins, and set forward for the\nsultan's palace. When she came to the gates, the grand vizier, the other\nviziers, and most distinguished lords of the court were just gone in;\nbut notwithstanding the crowd of people was great, she got into the\ndivan, a spacious hall, the entrance into which was very magnificent.\nShe placed herself just before the sultan, grand vizier, and the great\nlords, who sat in council, on his right and left hand. Several causes\nwere called, according to their order, pleaded and adjudged, until the\ntime the divan generally broke up, when the sultan, rising, returned to\nhis apartment, attended by the grand vizier; the other viziers and\nministers of state then retired, as also did all those whose business\nhad called them thither.\n\nAladdin's mother, seeing the sultan retire, and all the people depart,\njudged rightly that he would not sit again that day, and resolved to go\nhome; and on her arrival said, with much simplicity, \"Son, I have seen\nthe sultan, and am very well persuaded he has seen me, too, for I placed\nmyself just before him; but he was so much taken up with those who\nattended on all sides of him that I pitied him, and wondered at his\npatience. At last I believe he was heartily tired, for he rose up\nsuddenly, and would not hear a great many who were ready prepared to\nspeak to him, but went away, at which I was well pleased, for indeed I\nbegan to lose all patience, and was extremely fatigued with staying so\nlong. But there is no harm done; I will go again to-morrow; perhaps the\nsultan may not be so busy.\"\n\nThe next morning she repaired to the sultan's palace with the present,\nas early as the day before; but when she came there, she found the gates\nof the divan shut. She went six times afterward on the days appointed,\nplaced herself always directly before the sultan, but with as little\nsuccess as the first morning.\n\nOn the sixth day, however, after the divan was broken up, when the\nsultan returned to his own apartment, he said to his grand vizier; \"I\nhave for some time observed a certain woman, who attends constantly\nevery day that I give audience, with something wrapped up in a napkin;\nshe always stands up from the beginning to the breaking up of the\naudience, and affects to place herself just before me. If this woman\ncomes to our next audience, do not fail to call her, that I may hear\nwhat she has to say.\" The grand vizier made answer by lowering his hand,\nand then lifting it up above his head, signifying his willingness to\nlose it if he failed.\n\nOn the next audience day, when Aladdin's mother went to the divan, and\nplaced herself in front of the sultan as usual, the grand vizier\nimmediately called the chief of the mace-bearers, and pointing to her\nbade him bring her before the sultan. The old woman at once followed the\nmace-bearer, and when she reached the sultan bowed her head down to the\ncarpet which covered the platform of the throne, and remained in that\nposture until he bade her rise, which she had no sooner done, than he\nsaid to her, \"Good woman, I have observed you to stand many days from\nthe beginning to the rising of the divan; what business brings you\nhere?\"\n\nAfter these words, Aladdin's mother prostrated herself a second time;\nand when she arose, said, \"Monarch of monarchs, I beg of you to pardon\nthe boldness of my petition, and to assure me of your pardon and\nforgiveness.\" \"Well,\" replied the sultan, \"I will forgive you, be it\nwhat it may, and no hurt shall come to you; speak boldly.\"\n\nWhen Aladdin's mother had taken all these precautions, for fear of the\nsultan's anger, she told him faithfully the errand on which her son had\nsent her, and the event which led to his making so bold a request in\nspite of all her remonstrances.\n\nThe sultan hearkened to this discourse without showing the least anger;\nbut before he gave her any answer, asked her what she had brought tied\nup in the napkin. She took the china dish which she had set down at the\nfoot of the throne, untied it, and presented it to the sultan.\n\nThe sultan's amazement and surprise were inexpressible, when he saw so\nmany large, beautiful and valuable jewels collected in the dish. He\nremained for some time lost in admiration. At last, when he had\nrecovered himself, he received the present from Aladdin's mother's hand;\nsaying, \"How rich, how beautiful!\" After he had admired and handled all\nthe jewels one after another, he turned to his grand vizier, and showing\nhim the dish, said, \"Behold, admire, wonder! and confess that your eyes\nnever beheld jewels so rich and beautiful before.\" The vizier was\ncharmed. \"Well,\" continued the sultan, \"what sayest thou to such a\npresent? Is it not worthy of the princess my daughter? And ought I not\nto bestow her on one who values her at so great a price?\" \"I cannot but\nown,\" replied the grand vizier, \"that the present is worthy of the\nprincess; but I beg of your majesty to grant me three months before you\ncome to a final resolution. I hope, before that time, my son, whom you\nhave regarded with your favour, will be able to make a nobler present\nthan this Aladdin, who is an entire stranger to your majesty.\"\n\nThe sultan granted his request, and he said to the old woman, \"Good\nwoman, go home, and tell your son that I agree to the proposal you have\nmade me; but I cannot marry the princess my daughter for three months;\nat the expiration of that time come again.\"\n\nAladdin's mother returned home much more gratified than she had\nexpected, and told her son with much joy the condescending answer she\nhad received from the sultan's own mouth; and that she was to come to\nthe divan again that day three months.\n\nAladdin thought himself the most happy of all men at hearing this news,\nand thanked his mother for the pains she had taken in the affair, the\ngood success of which was of so great importance to his peace, that he\ncounted every day, week, and even hour as it passed. When two of the\nthree months were passed, his mother one evening, having no oil in the\nhouse, went out to buy some, and found a general rejoicing--the houses\ndressed with foliage, silks, and carpeting, and every one striving to\nshow their joy according to their ability. The streets were crowded with\nofficers in habits of ceremony, mounted on horses richly caparisoned,\neach attended by a great many footmen. Aladdin's mother asked the oil\nmerchant what was the meaning of all this preparation of public\nfestivity. \"Whence came you, good woman,\" said he, \"that you don't know\nthat the grand vizier's son is to marry the Princess Buddir al Buddoor,\nthe sultan's daughter, to-night? She will presently return from the\nbath; and these officers whom you see are to assist at the cavalcade to\nthe palace, where the ceremony is to be solemnised.\"\n\nAladdin's mother, on hearing these news, ran home very quickly. \"Child,\"\ncried she, \"you are undone! the sultan's fine promises will come to\nnought. This night the grand vizier's son is to marry the Princess\nBuddir al Buddoor.\"\n\nAt this account, Aladdin was thunderstruck, and he bethought himself of\nthe lamp, and of the genie who had promised to obey him; and without\nindulging in idle words against the sultan, the vizier, or his son, he\ndetermined, if possible, to prevent the marriage.\n\nWhen Aladdin had got into his chamber, he took the lamp, rubbed it in\nthe same place as before, when immediately the genie appeared, and said\nto him, \"What wouldst thou have? I am ready to obey thee as thy slave;\nI, and the other slaves of the lamp.\" \"Hear me,\" said Aladdin; \"thou\nhast hitherto obeyed me, but now I am about to impose on thee a harder\ntask. The sultan's daughter, who was promised me as my bride, is this\nnight married to the son of the grand vizier. Bring them both hither to\nme immediately they retire to their bedchamber.\"\n\n\"Master,\" replied the genie, \"I obey you.\"\n\nAladdin supped with his mother as was their wont, and then went to his\nown apartment, and sat up to await the return of the genie, according to\nhis commands.\n\nIn the mean time the festivities in honour of the princess's marriage\nwere conducted in the sultan's palace with great magnificence. The\nceremonies were at last brought to a conclusion, and the princess and\nthe son of the vizier retired to the bedchamber prepared for them. No\nsooner had they entered it, and dismissed their attendants, than the\ngenie, the faithful slave of the lamp, to the great amazement and alarm\nof the bride and bridegroom, took up the bed, and by an agency invisible\nto them, transported it in an instant into Aladdin's chamber, where he\nset it down. \"Remove the bridegroom,\" said Aladdin to the genie, \"and\nkeep him a prisoner till to-morrow dawn, and then return with him here.\"\nOn Aladdin being left alone with the princess, he endeavoured to assuage\nher fears, and explained to her the treachery practiced upon him by the\nsultan her father. He then laid himself down beside her, putting a drawn\nscimitar between them, to show that he was determined to secure her\nsafety, and to treat her with the utmost possible respect. At break of\nday, the genie appeared at the appointed hour, bringing back the\nbridegroom, whom by breathing upon he had left motionless and entranced\nat the door of Aladdin's chamber during the night, and at Aladdin's\ncommand transported the couch with the bride and bridegroom on it, by\nthe same invisible agency, into the palace of the sultan.\n\nAt the instant that the genie had set down the couch with the bride and\nbridegroom in their own chamber, the sultan came to the door to offer\nhis good wishes to his daughter. The grand vizier's son, who was almost\nperished with cold, by standing in his thin under-garment all night, no\nsooner heard the knocking at the door than he got out of bed, and ran\ninto the robing-chamber, where he had undressed himself the night\nbefore.\n\nThe sultan having opened the door, went to the bedside, kissed the\nprincess on the forehead, but was extremely surprised to see her look so\nmelancholy. She only cast at him a sorrowful look, expressive of great\naffliction. He suspected there was something extraordinary in this\nsilence, and thereupon went immediately to the sultaness's apartment,\ntold her in what a state he found the princess, and how she had received\nhim. \"Sire,\" said the sultaness, \"I will go and see her; she will not\nreceive me in the same manner.\"\n\nThe princess received her mother with sighs and tears, and signs of deep\ndejection. At last, upon her pressing on her the duty of telling her all\nher thoughts, she gave to the sultaness a precise description of all\nthat happened to her during the night; on which the sultaness enjoined\non her the necessity of silence and discretion, as no one would give\ncredence to so strange a tale. The grand vizier's son, elated with the\nhonour of being the sultan's son-in-law, kept silence on his part, and\nthe events of the night were not allowed to cast the least gloom on the\nfestivities on the following day, in continued celebration of the royal\nmarriage.\n\nWhen night came, the bride and bridegroom were again attended to their\nchamber with the same ceremonies as on the preceding evening. Aladdin,\nknowing that this would be so, had already given his commands to the\ngenie of the lamp; and no sooner were they alone than their bed was\nremoved in the same mysterious manner as on the preceding evening; and\nhaving passed the night in the same unpleasant way, they were in the\nmorning conveyed to the palace of the sultan. Scarcely had they been\nreplaced in their apartment, when the sultan came to make his\ncompliments to his daughter, when the princess could no longer conceal\nfrom him the unhappy treatment she had been subject to, and told him all\nthat had happened as she had already related it to her mother. The\nsultan, on hearing these strange tidings, consulted with the grand\nvizier; and finding from him that his son had been subjected to even\nworse treatment by an invisible agency, he determined to declare the\nmarriage to be cancelled, and all the festivities, which were yet to\nlast for several days, to be countermanded and terminated.\n\nThis sudden change in the mind of the sultan gave rise to various\nspeculations and reports. Nobody but Aladdin knew the secret, and he\nkept it with the most scrupulous silence; and neither the sultan nor the\ngrand vizier, who had forgotten Aladdin and his request, had the least\nthought that he had any hand in the strange adventures that befell the\nbride and bridegroom.\n\nOn the very day that the three months contained in the sultan's promise\nexpired, the mother of Aladdin again went to the palace, and stood in\nthe same place in the divan. The sultan knew her again, and directed his\nvizier to have her brought before him.\n\nAfter having prostrated herself, she made answer, in reply to the\nsultan: \"Sire, I come at the end of three months to ask of you the\nfulfillment of the promise you made to my son.\" The sultan little\nthought the request of Aladdin's mother was made to him in earnest, or\nthat he would hear any more of the matter. He therefore took counsel\nwith his vizier, who suggested that the sultan should attach such\nconditions to the marriage that no one of the humble condition of\nAladdin could possibly fulfill. In accordance with this suggestion of\nthe vizier, the sultan replied to the mother of Aladdin: \"Good woman, it\nis true sultans ought to abide by their word, and I am ready to keep\nmine, by making your son happy in marriage with the princess my\ndaughter. But as I cannot marry her without some further proof of your\nson being able to support her in royal state, you may tell him I will\nfulfill my promise as soon as he shall send me forty trays of massy\ngold, full of the same sort of jewels you have already made me a present\nof, and carried by the like number of black slaves, who shall be led by\nas many young and handsome white slaves, all dressed magnificently. On\nthese conditions I am ready to bestow the princess my daughter upon him;\ntherefore, good woman, go and tell him so, and I will wait till you\nbring me his answer.\"\n\nAladdin's mother prostrated herself a second time before the sultan's\nthrone, and retired. On her way home, she laughed within herself at her\nson's foolish imagination. \"Where,\" said she, \"can he get so many large\ngold trays, and such precious stones to fill them? It is altogether out\nof his power, and I believe he will not be much pleased with my embassy\nthis time.\" When she came home, full of these thoughts, she told Aladdin\nall the circumstances of her interview with the sultan, and the\nconditions on which he consented to the marriage. \"The sultan expects\nyour answer immediately,\" said she; and then added, laughing, \"I believe\nhe may wait long enough!\"\n\n\"Not so long, mother, as you imagine,\" replied Aladdin, \"This demand is\na mere trifle, and will prove no bar to my marriage with the princess. I\nwill prepare at once to satisfy his request.\"\n\nAladdin retired to his own apartment and summoned the genie of the lamp,\nand required him to prepare and present the gift immediately, before the\nsultan closed his morning audience, according to the terms in which it\nhad been prescribed. The genie professed his obedience to the owner of\nthe lamp, and disappeared. Within a very short time, a train of forty\nblack slaves, led by the same number of white slaves, appeared opposite\nthe house in which Aladdin lived. Each black slave carried on his head a\nbasin of massy gold, full of pearls, diamonds, rubies, and emeralds.\nAladdin then addressed his mother: \"Madam, pray lose no time; before the\nsultan and the divan rise, I would have you return to the palace with\nthis present as the dowry demanded for the princess, that he may judge\nby my diligence and exactness of the ardent and sincere desire I have to\nprocure myself the honour of this alliance.\"\n\nAs soon as this magnificent procession, with Aladdin's mother at its\nhead, had begun to march from Aladdin's house, the whole city was filled\nwith the crowds of people desirous to see so grand a sight. The graceful\nbearing, elegant form, and wonderful likeness of each slave; their grave\nwalk at an equal distance from each other, the lustre of their jewelled\ngirdles, and the brilliancy of the aigrettes of precious stones in their\nturbans, excited the greatest admiration in the spectators. As they had\nto pass through several streets to the palace, the whole length of the\nway was lined with files of spectators. Nothing, indeed, was ever seen\nso beautiful and brilliant in the sultan's palace, and the richest robes\nof the emirs of his court were not to be compared to the costly dresses\nof these slaves, whom they supposed to be kings.\n\nAs the sultan, who had been informed of their approach, had given orders\nfor them to be admitted, they met with no obstacle, but went into the\ndivan in regular order, one part turning to the right and the other to\nthe left. After they were all entered, and had formed a semicircle\nbefore the sultan's throne, the black slaves laid the golden trays on\nthe carpet, prostrated themselves, touching the carpet with their\nforeheads, and at the same time the white slaves did the same. When they\nrose, the black slaves uncovered the trays, and then all stood with\ntheir arms crossed over their breasts.\n\nIn the mean time, Aladdin's mother advanced to the foot of the throne,\nand having prostrated herself, said to the sultan, \"Sire, my son knows\nthis present is much below the notice of Princess Buddir al Buddoor; but\nhopes, nevertheless, that your majesty will accept of it, and make it\nagreeable to the princess, and with the greater confidence since he has\nendeavoured to conform to the conditions you were pleased to impose.\"\n\nThe sultan, overpowered at the sight of such more than royal\nmagnificence, replied without hesitation to the words of Aladdin's\nmother: \"Go and tell your son that I wait with open arms to embrace him;\nand the more haste he makes to come and receive the princess my daughter\nfrom my hands, the greater pleasure he will do me.\" As soon as Aladdin's\nmother had retired, the sultan put an end to the audience; and rising\nfrom his throne ordered that the princess's attendants should come and\ncarry the trays into their mistress's apartment, whither he went himself\nto examine them with her at his leisure. The fourscore slaves were\nconducted into the palace; and the sultan, telling the princess of their\nmagnificent apparel, ordered them to be brought before her apartment,\nthat she might see through the lattices he had not exaggerated in his\naccount of them.\n\nIn the meantime Aladdin's mother reached home, and showed in her air and\ncountenance the good news she brought to her son. \"My son,\" said she,\n\"you may rejoice you are arrived at the height of your desires. The\nsultan has declared that you shall marry the Princess Buddir al Buddoor.\nHe waits for you with impatience.\"\n\nAladdin, enraptured with this news, made his mother very little reply,\nbut retired to his chamber. There he rubbed his lamp, and the obedient\ngenie appeared. \"Genie,\" said Aladdin, \"convey me at once to a bath, and\nsupply me with the richest and most magnificent robe ever worn by a\nmonarch.\" No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the genie\nrendered him, as well as himself, invisible, and transported him into a\nbath of the finest marble of all sorts of colours; where he was\nundressed, without seeing by whom, in a magnificent and spacious hall.\nHe was then well rubbed and washed with various scented waters. After he\nhad passed through several degrees of heat, he came out quite a\ndifferent man from what he was before. His skin was clear as that of a\nchild, his body lightsome and free; and when he returned into the hall,\nhe found, instead of his own poor raiment, a robe, the magnificence of\nwhich astonished him. The genie helped him to dress, and when he had\ndone, transported him back to his own chamber, where he asked him if he\nhad any other commands. \"Yes,\" answered Aladdin, \"bring me a charger\nthat surpasses in beauty and goodness the best in the sultan's stables;\nwith a saddle, bridle, and other caparisons to correspond with his\nvalue. Furnish also twenty slaves, as richly clothed as those who\ncarried the present to the sultan, to walk by my side and follow me, and\ntwenty more to go before me in two ranks. Besides these, bring my mother\nsix women slaves to attend her, as richly dressed at least as any of the\nPrincess Buddir al Buddoor's, each carrying a complete dress fit for any\nsultaness. I want also ten thousand pieces of gold in ten purses; go,\nand make haste.\"\n\nAs soon as Aladdin had given these orders, the genie disappeared, but\npresently returned with the horse, the forty slaves, ten of whom carried\neach a purse containing ten thousand pieces of gold, and six women\nslaves, each carrying on her head a different dress for Aladdin's\nmother, wrapt up in a piece of silver tissue, and presented them all to\nAladdin.\n\nHe presented the six women slaves to his mother, telling her they were\nher slaves, and that the dresses they had brought were for her use. Of\nthe ten purses Aladdin took four, which he gave to his mother, telling\nher, those were to supply her with necessaries; the other six he left in\nthe hands of the slaves who brought them, with an order to throw them by\nhandfuls among the people as they went to the sultan's palace. The six\nslaves who carried the purses he ordered likewise to march before him,\nthree on the right hand and three on the left.\n\nWhen Aladdin had thus prepared himself for his first interview with the\nsultan, he dismissed the genie, and immediately mounting his charger,\nbegan his march, and though he never was on horseback before, appeared\nwith a grace the most experienced horseman might envy. The innumerable\nconcourse of people through whom he passed made the air echo with their\nacclamations, especially every time the six slaves who carried the\npurses threw handfuls of gold among the populace.\n\nOn Aladdin's arrival at the palace, the sultan was surprised to find him\nmore richly and magnificently robed than he had ever been himself, and\nwas impressed with his good looks and dignity of manner, which were so\ndifferent from what he expected in the son of one so humble as Aladdin's\nmother. He embraced him with all the demonstrations of joy, and when he\nwould have fallen at his feet, held him by the hand, and made him sit\nnear his throne. He shortly after led him amidst the sounds of trumpets,\nhautboys, and all kinds of music, to a magnificent entertainment, at\nwhich the sultan and Aladdin ate by themselves, and the great lords of\nthe court, according to their rank and dignity, sat at different tables.\nAfter the feast, the sultan sent for the chief cadi, and commanded him\nto draw up a contract of marriage between the Princess Buddir al Buddoor\nand Aladdin. When the contract had been drawn, the sultan asked Aladdin\nif he would stay in the palace and complete the ceremonies of the\nmarriage that day. \"Sire,\" said Aladdin, \"though great is my impatience\nto enter on the honour granted me by your majesty, yet I beg you to\npermit me first to build a palace worthy to receive the princess your\ndaughter. I pray you to grant me sufficient ground near your palace, and\nI will have it completed with the utmost expedition.\" The sultan granted\nAladdin his request, and again embraced him. After which he took his\nleave with as much politeness as if he had been bred up and had always\nlived at court.\n\nAladdin returned home in the order he had come, amidst the acclamations\nof the people, who wished him all happiness and prosperity. As soon as\nhe dismounted, he retired to his own chamber, took the lamp, and\nsummoned the genie as usual, who professed his allegiance. \"Genie,\" said\nAladdin, \"build me a palace fit to receive the Princess Buddir al\nBuddoor. Let its materials be made of nothing less than porphyry,\njasper, agate, lapis lazuli, and the finest marble. Let its walls be\nmassive gold and silver bricks laid alternately. Let each front contain\nsix windows, and let the lattices of these (except one, which must be\nleft unfinished) be enriched with diamonds, rubies, and emeralds, so\nthat they shall exceed everything of the kind ever seen in the world.\nLet there be an inner and outer court in front of the palace, and a\nspacious garden; but above all things, provide a safe treasure-house,\nand fill it with gold and silver. Let there be also kitchens and\nstorehouses, stables full of the finest horses, with their equerries and\ngrooms, and hunting equipage, officers, attendants, and slaves, both men\nand women, to form a retinue for the princess and myself. Go and execute\nmy wishes.\"\n\nWhen Aladdin gave these commands to the genie, the sun was set. The next\nmorning at daybreak the genie presented himself, and, having obtained\nAladdin's consent, transported him in a moment to the palace he had\nmade. The genie led him through all the apartments, where he found\nofficers and slaves, habited according to their rank and the services to\nwhich they were appointed. The genie then showed him the treasury, which\nwas opened by a treasurer, where Aladdin saw large vases of different\nsizes, piled up to the top with money, ranged all round the chamber. The\ngenie thence led him to the stables, where were some of the finest\nhorses in the world, and the grooms busy in dressing them; from thence\nthey went to the storehouses, which were filled with all things\nnecessary, both for food and ornament.\n\nWhen Aladdin had examined every portion of the palace, and particularly\nthe hall with the four-and-twenty windows, and found it far to exceed\nhis fondest expectations, he said, \"Genie, there is one thing wanting, a\nfine carpet for the princess to walk upon from the sultan's palace to\nmine. Lay one down immediately.\" The genie disappeared, and Aladdin saw\nwhat he desired executed in an instant. The genie then returned, and\ncarried him to his own home.\n\nWhen the sultan's porters came to open the gates, they were amazed to\nfind what had been an unoccupied garden filled up with a magnificent\npalace, and a splendid carpet extending to it all the way from the\nsultan's palace. They told the strange tidings to the grand vizier, who\ninformed the sultan, who exclaimed, \"It must be Aladdin's palace, which\nI gave him leave to build for my daughter. He has wished to surprise us,\nand let us see what wonders can be done in only one night.\"\n\nAladdin, on his being conveyed by the genie to his own home, requested\nhis mother to go to the Princess Buddir al Buddoor, and tell her that\nthe palace would be ready for her reception in the evening. She went,\nattended by her women slaves, in the same order as on the preceding day.\nShortly after her arrival at the princess's apartment, the sultan\nhimself came in, and was surprised to find her, whom he knew as his\nsuppliant at his divan in such humble guise, to be now more richly and\nsumptuously attired than his own daughter. This gave him a higher\nopinion of Aladdin, who took such care of his mother, and made her share\nhis wealth and honours. Shortly after her departure, Aladdin, mounting\nhis horse, and attended by his retinue of magnificent attendants, left\nhis paternal home forever, and went to the palace in the same pomp as on\nthe day before. Nor did he forget to take with him the Wonderful Lamp,\nto which he owed all his good fortune, nor to wear the Ring which was\ngiven him as a talisman. The sultan entertained Aladdin with the utmost\nmagnificence, and at night, on the conclusion of the marriage\nceremonies, the princess took leave of the sultan her father. Bands of\nmusic led the procession, followed by a hundred state ushers, and the\nlike number of black mutes, in two files, with their officers at their\nhead. Four hundred of the sultan's young pages carried flambeaux on each\nside, which, together with the illuminations of the sultan's and\nAladdin's palaces, made it as light as day. In this order the princess,\nconveyed in her litter, and accompanied also by Aladdin's mother,\ncarried in a superb litter and attended by her women slaves, proceeded\non the carpet which was spread from the sultan's palace to that of\nAladdin. On her arrival Aladdin was ready to receive her at the\nentrance, and led her into a large hall, illuminated with an infinite\nnumber of wax candles, where a noble feast was served up. The dishes\nwere of massy gold, and contained the most delicate viands. The vases,\nbasins, and goblets were gold also, and of exquisite workmanship, and\nall the other ornaments and embellishments of the hall were answerable\nto this display. The princess, dazzled to see so much riches collected\nin one place, said to Aladdin, \"I thought, prince, that nothing in the\nworld was so beautiful as the sultan my father's palace, but the sight\nof this hall alone is sufficient to show I was deceived.\"\n\nWhen the supper was ended, there entered a company of female dancers,\nwho performed, according to the custom of the country, singing at the\nsame time verses in praise of the bride and bridegroom. About midnight\nAladdin's mother conducted the bride to the nuptial apartment, and he\nsoon after retired.\n\nThe next morning the attendants of Aladdin presented themselves to dress\nhim, and brought him another habit, as rich and magnificent as that worn\nthe day before. He then ordered one of the horses to be got ready,\nmounted him, and went in the midst of a large troop of slaves to the\nsultan's palace to entreat him to take a repast in the princess's\npalace, attended by his grand vizier and all the lords of his court. The\nsultan consented with pleasure, rose up immediately, and, preceded by\nthe principal officers of his palace, and followed by all the great\nlords of his court, accompanied Aladdin.\n\nThe nearer the sultan approached Aladdin's palace, the more he was\nstruck with its beauty; but when he entered it, came into the hall, and\nsaw the windows, enriched with diamonds, rubies, emeralds, all large\nperfect stones, he was completely surprised, and said to his son-in-law,\n\"This palace is one of the wonders of the world; for where in all the\nworld besides shall we find walls built of massy gold and silver, and\ndiamonds, rubies, and emeralds composing the windows? But what most\nsurprises me is, that a hall of this magnificence should be left with\none of its windows incomplete and unfinished.\" \"Sire,\" answered Aladdin,\n\"the omission was by design, since I wished that you should have the\nglory of finishing this hall.\" \"I take your intention kindly,\" said the\nsultan, \"and will give orders about it immediately.\"\n\nAfter the sultan had finished this magnificent entertainment, provided\nfor him and for his court by Aladdin, he was informed that the jewellers\nand goldsmiths attended; upon which he returned to the hall, and showed\nthem the window which was unfinished. \"I sent for you,\" said he, \"to fit\nup this window in as great perfection as the rest. Examine them well,\nand make all the dispatch you can.\"\n\nThe jewellers and goldsmiths examined the three-and-twenty windows with\ngreat attention, and after they had consulted together, to know what\neach could furnish, they returned, and presented themselves before the\nsultan, whose principal jeweller undertaking to speak for the rest,\nsaid, \"Sire, we are all willing to exert our utmost care and industry to\nobey you; but among us all we cannot furnish jewels enough for so great\na work.\" \"I have more than are necessary,\" said the sultan; \"come to my\npalace, and you shall choose what may answer your purpose.\"\n\nWhen the sultan returned to his palace, he ordered his jewels to be\nbrought out, and the jewellers took a great quantity, particularly those\nAladdin had made him a present of, which they soon used, without making\nany great advance in their work. They came again several times for more,\nand in a month's time had not finished half their work. In short, they\nused all the jewels the sultan had, and borrowed of the vizier, but yet\nthe work was not half done.\n\nAladdin, who knew that all the sultan's endeavours to make this window\nlike the rest were in vain, sent for the jewellers and goldsmiths, and\nnot only commanded them to desist from their work, but ordered them to\nundo what they had begun, and to carry all their jewels back to the\nsultan and to the vizier. They undid in a few hours what they had been\nsix weeks about, and retired, leaving Aladdin alone in the hall. He took\nthe lamp, which he carried about him, rubbed it, and presently the genie\nappeared. \"Genie,\" said Aladdin, \"I ordered thee to leave one of the\nfour-and-twenty windows of this hall imperfect, and thou hast executed\nmy commands punctually; now I would have thee make it like the rest.\"\nThe genie immediately disappeared. Aladdin went out of the hall, and\nreturning soon after, found the window, as he wished it to be, like the\nothers.\n\nIn the mean time, the jewellers and goldsmiths repaired to the palace,\nand were introduced into the sultan's presence; where the chief jeweller\npresented the precious stones which he had brought back. The sultan\nasked them if Aladdin had given them any reason for so doing, and they\nanswering that he had given them none, he ordered a horse to be brought,\nwhich he mounted, and rode to his son-in-law's palace, with some few\nattendants on foot, to inquire why he had ordered the completion of the\nwindow to be stopped. Aladdin met him at the gate, and without giving\nany reply to his inquiries conducted him to the grand saloon, where the\nsultan, to his great surprise, found the window, which was left\nimperfect, to correspond exactly with the others. He fancied at first\nthat he was mistaken, and examined the two windows on each side, and\nafterward all the four-and-twenty; but when he was convinced that the\nwindow which several workmen had been so long about was finished in so\nshort a time, he embraced Aladdin and kissed him between his eyes. \"My\nson,\" said he, \"what a man you are to do such surprising things always\nin the twinkling of an eye! there is not your fellow in the world; the\nmore I know, the more I admire you.\"\n\nThe sultan returned to the palace, and after this went frequently to the\nwindow to contemplate and admire the wonderful palace of his son-in-law.\n\nAladdin did not confine himself in his palace, but went with much state,\nsometimes to one mosque, and sometimes to another, to prayers, or to\nvisit the grand vizier or the principal lords of the court. Every time\nhe went out, he caused two slaves, who walked by the side of his horse,\nto throw handfuls of money among the people as he passed through the\nstreets and squares. This generosity gained him the love and blessings\nof the people, and it was common for them to swear by his head. Thus\nAladdin, while he paid all respect to the sultan, won by his affable\nbehaviour and liberality the affections of the people.\n\nAladdin had conducted himself in this manner several years, when the\nAfrican magician, who had for some years dismissed him from his\nrecollection, determined to inform himself with certainty whether he\nperished, as he supposed, in the subterranean cave or not. After he had\nresorted to a long course of magic ceremonies, and had formed a\nhoroscope by which to ascertain Aladdin's fate, what was his surprise to\nfind the appearances to declare that Aladdin, instead of dying in the\ncave, had made his escape, and was living in royal splendour, by the aid\nof the genie of the wonderful lamp!\n\nOn the very next day, the magician set out and travelled with the utmost\nhaste to the capital of China, where, on his arrival, he took up his\nlodgings in a khan.\n\nHe then quickly learnt about the wealth, charities, happiness, and\nsplendid palace of Prince Aladdin. Directly he saw the wonderful fabric,\nhe knew that none but the genies, the slaves of the lamp, could have\nperformed such wonders, and, piqued to the quick at Aladdin's high\nestate, he returned to the khan.\n\nOn his return he had recourse to an operation of geomancy to find out\nwhere the lamp was--whether Aladdin carried it about with him, or where\nhe left it. The result of his consultation informed him, to his great\njoy, that the lamp was in the palace. \"Well,\" said he, rubbing his hands\nin glee, \"I shall have the lamp, and I shall make Aladdin return to his\noriginal mean condition.\"\n\nThe next day the magician learnt, from the chief superintendent of the\nkhan where he lodged, that Aladdin had gone on a hunting expedition,\nwhich was to last for eight days, of which only three had expired. The\nmagician wanted to know no more, He resolved at once on his plans. He\nwent to a coppersmith, and asked for a dozen copper lamps: the master of\nthe shop told him he had not so many by him, but if he would have\npatience till the next day, he would have them ready. The magician\nappointed his time, and desired him to take care that they should be\nhandsome and well polished.\n\nThe next day the magician called for the twelve lamps, paid the man his\nfull price, put them into a basket hanging on his arm, and went directly\nto Aladdin's palace. As he approached, he began crying, \"Who will\nexchange old lamps for new ones?\" As he went along, a crowd of children\ncollected, who hooted, and thought him, as did all who chanced to be\npassing by, a madman or a fool, to offer to change new lamps for old\nones.\n\nThe African magician regarded not their scoffs, hootings, or all they\ncould say to him, but still continued crying, \"Who will change old lamps\nfor new ones?\" He repeated this so often, walking backward and forward\nin front of the palace, that the princess, who was then in the hall with\nthe four-and-twenty windows, hearing a man cry something, and seeing a\ngreat mob crowding about him, sent one of her women slaves to know what\nhe cried.\n\nThe slave returned, laughing so heartily that the princess rebuked her.\n\"Madam,\" answered the slave, laughing still, \"who can forbear laughing,\nto see an old man with a basket on his arm, full of fine new lamps,\nasking to change them for old ones? the children and mob crowding about\nhim, so that he can hardly stir, make all the noise they can in derision\nof him.\"\n\nAnother female slave hearing this, said, \"Now you speak of lamps, I know\nnot whether the princess may have observed it, but there is an old one\nupon a shelf of the Prince Aladdin's robing room, and whoever owns it\nwill not be sorry to find a new one in its stead. If the princess\nchooses, she may have the pleasure of trying if this old man is so silly\nas to give a new lamp for an old one, without taking anything for the\nexchange.\"\n\nThe princess, who knew not the value of this lamp, and the interest that\nAladdin had to keep it safe, entered into the pleasantry, and commanded\na slave to take it and make the exchange. The slave obeyed, went out of\nthe hall, and no sooner got to the palace gates than he saw the African\nmagician, called to him, and showing him the old lamp, said, \"Give me a\nnew lamp for this.\"\n\nThe magician never doubted but this was the lamp he wanted. There could\nbe no other such in this palace, where every utensil was gold or silver.\nHe snatched it eagerly out of the slave's hand, and thrusting it as far\nas he could into his breast, offered him his basket, and bade him choose\nwhich he liked best. The slave picked out one and carried it to the\nprincess; but the change was no sooner made than the place rung with the\nshouts of the children, deriding the magician's folly.\n\nThe African magician stayed no longer near the palace, nor cried any\nmore, \"New lamps for old ones,\" but made the best of his way to his\nkhan. His end was answered, and by his silence he got rid of the\nchildren and the mob.\n\nAs soon as he was out of sight of the two palaces, he hastened down the\nleast-frequented streets; and having no more occasion for his lamps or\nbasket, set all down in a spot where nobody saw him; then going down\nanother street or two, he walked till he came to one of the city gates,\nand pursuing his way through the suburbs, which were very extensive, at\nlength reached a lonely spot, where he stopped till the darkness of the\nnight, as the most suitable time for the design he had in contemplation.\nWhen it became quite dark, he pulled the lamp out of his breast and\nrubbed it. At that summons the genie appeared, and said, \"What wouldst\nthou have? I am ready to obey thee as thy slave, and the slave of all\nthose who have that lamp in their hands, both I and the other slaves of\nthe lamp.\" \"I command thee,\" replied the magician, \"to transport me\nimmediately, and the palace which thou and the other slaves of the lamp\nhave built in this city, with all the people in it, to Africa.\" The\ngenie made no reply, but with the assistance of the other genies, the\nslaves of the lamp, immediately transported him and the palace, entire,\nto the spot whither he had been desired to convey it.\n\nEarly the next morning, when the sultan, according to custom, went to\ncontemplate and admire Aladdin's place, his amazement was unbounded to\nfind that it could nowhere be seen. He could not comprehend how so large\na palace which he had seen plainly every day for some years, should\nvanish so soon, and not leave the least remains behind. In his\nperplexity he ordered the grand vizier to be sent for with expedition.\n\nThe grand vizier, who, in secret, bore no good will to Aladdin,\nintimated his suspicion that the palace was built by magic, and that\nAladdin had made his hunting excursion an excuse for the removal of his\npalace with the same suddenness with which it had been erected. He\ninduced the sultan to send a detachment of his guard, and to have\nAladdin seized as a prisoner of state. On his son-in-law being brought\nbefore him, he would not hear a word from him, but ordered him to be put\nto death. The decree caused so much discontent among the people, whose\naffection Aladdin had secured by his largesses and charities, that the\nsultan, fearful of an insurrection, was obliged to grant him his life.\nWhen Aladdin found himself at liberty, he again addressed the sultan:\n\"Sire, I pray you to let me know the crime by which I have thus lost the\nfavour of thy countenance.\" \"Your crime!\" answered the sultan, \"wretched\nman! do you not know it? Follow me, and I will show you.\" The sultan\nthen took Aladdin into the apartment from whence he was wont to look at\nand admire his palace, and said, \"You ought to know where your palace\nstood; look, mind, and tell me what has become of it.\" Aladdin did so,\nand being utterly amazed at the loss of his palace, was speechless. At\nlast recovering himself, he said, \"It is true, I do not see the palace.\nIt is vanished; but I had no concern in its removal. I beg you to give\nme forty days, and if in that time I cannot restore it, I will offer my\nhead to be disposed of at your pleasure.\" \"I give you the time you ask,\nbut at the end of the forty days, forget not to present yourself before\nme.\"\n\nAladdin went out of the sultan's palace in a condition of exceeding\nhumiliation. The lords who had courted him in the days of his splendour,\nnow declined to have any communication with him. For three days he\nwandered about the city, exciting the wonder and compassion of the\nmultitude by asking everybody he met if they had seen his palace, or\ncould tell him anything of it. On the third day he wandered into the\ncountry, and as he was approaching a river, he fell down the bank with\nso much violence that he rubbed the ring which the magician had given\nhim so hard by holding on the rock to save himself, that immediately the\nsame genie appeared whom he had seen in the cave where the magician had\nleft him. \"What wouldst thou have?\" said the genie, \"I am ready to obey\nthee as thy slave, and the slave of all those that have that ring on\ntheir finger; both I and the other slaves of the ring.\"\n\nAladdin, agreeably surprised at an offer of help so little expected,\nreplied, \"Genie, show me where the palace I caused to be built now\nstands, or transport it back where it first stood.\" \"Your command,\"\nanswered the genie, \"is not wholly in my power; I am only the slave of\nthe ring, and not of the lamp.\" \"I command thee, then,\" replied Aladdin,\n\"by the power of the ring, to transport me to the spot where my palace\nstands, in what part of the world soever it may be.\" These words were no\nsooner out of his mouth, than the genie transported him into Africa, to\nthe midst of a large plain, where his palace stood, at no great distance\nfrom a city, and placing him exactly under the window of the princess's\napartment, left him.\n\nNow it so happened that shortly after Aladdin had been transported by\nthe slave of the ring to the neighbourhood of his palace, that one of\nthe attendants of the Princess Buddir al Buddoor, looking through the\nwindow, perceived him and instantly told her mistress. The princess, who\ncould not believe the joyful tidings, hastened herself to the window,\nand seeing Aladdin, immediately opened it. The noise of opening the\nwindow made Aladdin turn his head that way, and perceiving the princess,\nhe saluted her with an air that expressed his joy. \"To lose no time,\"\nsaid she to him, \"I have sent to have the private door opened for you;\nenter and come up.\"\n\nThe private door, which was just under the princess's apartment, was\nsoon opened, and Aladdin conducted up into the chamber. It is impossible\nto express the joy of both at seeing each other, after so cruel a\nseparation. After embracing and shedding tears of joy, they sat down,\nand Aladdin said, \"I beg of you, princess, to tell me what is become of\nan old lamp which stood upon a shelf in my robing-chamber.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" answered the princess, \"I was afraid our misfortune might be\nowing to that lamp; and what grieves me most is, that I have been the\ncause of it. I was foolish enough to change the old lamp for a new one,\nand the next morning I found myself in this unknown country, which I am\ntold is Africa.\"\n\n\"Princess,\" said Aladdin, interrupting her, \"you have explained all by\ntelling me we are in Africa I desire you only to tell me if you know\nwhere the old lamp now is.\" \"The African magician carries it carefully\nwrapt up in his bosom,\" said the princess; \"and this I can assure you,\nbecause he pulled it out before me, and showed it to me in triumph.\"\n\n\"Princess,\" said Aladdin, \"I think I have found the means to deliver you\nand to regain possession of the lamp, on which all my prosperity\ndepends; to execute this design it is necessary for me to go to the\ntown. I shall return by noon, and will then tell you what must be done\nby you to insure success. In the mean time, I shall disguise myself, and\nbeg that the private door may be opened at the first knock.\"\n\nWhen Aladdin was out of the palace, he looked round him on all sides,\nand perceiving a peasant going into the country, hastened after him; and\nwhen he had overtaken him, made a proposal to him to change clothes,\nwhich the man agreed to. When they had made the exchange, the countryman\nwent about his business, and Aladdin entered the neighbouring city.\nAfter traversing several streets, he came to that part of the town where\nthe merchants and artisans had their particular streets according to\ntheir trades. He went into that of the druggists; and entering one of\nthe largest and best furnished shops, asked the druggist if he had a\ncertain powder, which he named.\n\nThe druggist, judging Aladdin by his habit to be very poor, told him he\nhad it, but that it was very dear; upon which Aladdin, penetrating his\nthoughts, pulled out his purse, and showing him some gold, asked for\nhalf a dram of the powder; which the druggist weighed and gave him,\ntelling him the price was a piece of gold. Aladdin put the money into\nhis hand, and hastened to the palace, which he entered at once by the\nprivate door. When he came into the princess's apartments, he said to\nher, \"Princess, you must take your part in the scheme which I propose\nfor our deliverance. You must overcome your aversion to the magician,\nand assume a most friendly manner toward him, and ask him to oblige you\nby partaking of an entertainment in your apartments. Before he leaves,\nask him to exchange cups with you, which he, gratified at the honour you\ndo him, will gladly do, when you must give him the cup containing this\npowder. On drinking it he will instantly fall asleep, and we will obtain\nthe lamp, whose slaves will do all our bidding, and restore us and the\npalace to the capital of China.\"\n\nThe princess obeyed to the utmost her husband's instructions. She\nassumed a look of pleasure on the next visit of the magician, and asked\nhim to an entertainment, which he most willingly accepted. At the close\nof the evening, during which the princess had tried all she could to\nplease him, she asked him to exchange cups with her, and giving the\nsignal, had the drugged cup brought to her, which she gave to the\nmagician. He drank it out of compliment to the princess to the very last\ndrop, when he fell backward lifeless on the sofa.\n\nThe princess, in anticipation of the success of her scheme, had so\nplaced her women from the great hall to the foot of the staircase, that\nthe word was no sooner given that the African magician was fallen\nbackward, than the door was opened, and Aladdin admitted to the hall.\nThe princess rose from her seat, and ran, overjoyed, to embrace him; but\nhe stopped her, and said, \"Princess, retire to your apartment; and let\nme be left alone, while I endeavour to transport you back to China as\nspeedily as you were brought from thence.\"\n\nWhen the princess, her women, and slaves were gone out of the hall,\nAladdin shut the door, and going directly to the dead body of the\nmagician, opened his vest, took out the lamp which was carefully wrapped\nup, and rubbing it, the genie immediately appeared. \"Genie,\" said\nAladdin, \"I command thee to transport this palace instantly to the place\nfrom whence it was brought hither.\" The genie bowed his head in token of\nobedience, and disappeared. Immediately the palace was transported into\nChina, and its removal was only felt by two little shocks, the one when\nit was lifted up, the other when it was set down, and both in a very\nshort interval of time.\n\nOn the morning after the restoration of Aladdin's palace, the sultan was\nlooking out of his window, and mourning over the fate of his daughter,\nwhen he thought that he saw the vacancy created by the disappearance of\nthe palace to be again filled up.\n\nOn looking more attentively, he was convinced beyond the power of doubt\nthat it was his son-in-law's palace. Joy and gladness succeeded to\nsorrow and grief. He at once ordered a horse to be saddled, which he\nmounted that instant, thinking he could not make haste enough to the\nplace.\n\nAladdin rose that morning by daybreak, put on one of the most\nmagnificent habits his wardrobe afforded, and went up into the hall of\ntwenty-four windows, from whence he perceived the sultan approaching,\nand received him at the foot of the great staircase, helping him to\ndismount.\n\nHe led the sultan into the princess's apartment. The happy father\nembraced her with tears of joy; and the princess, on her side, afforded\nsimilar testimonies of her extreme pleasure. After a short interval,\ndevoted to mutual explanations of all that had happened, the sultan\nrestored Aladdin to his favour, and expressed his regret for the\napparent harshness with which he had treated him. \"My son,\" said he, \"be\nnot displeased at my proceedings against you; they arose from my\npaternal love, and therefore you ought to forgive the excesses to which\nit hurried me.\" \"Sire,\" replied Aladdin, \"I have not the least reason to\ncomplain of your conduct, since you did nothing but what your duty\nrequired. This infamous magician, the basest of men, was the sole cause\nof my misfortune.\"\n\nThe African magician, who was thus twice foiled in his endeavour to ruin\nAladdin, had a younger brother, who was as skilful a magician as\nhimself, and exceeded him in wickedness and hatred of mankind. By mutual\nagreement they communicated with each other once a year, however widely\nseparate might be their place of residence from each other. The younger\nbrother not having received as usual his annual communication, prepared\nto take a horoscope and ascertain his brother's proceedings. He, as well\nas his brother, always carried a geomantic square instrument about him;\nhe prepared the sand, cast the points, and drew the figures. On\nexamining the planetary crystal, he found that his brother was no longer\nliving, but had been poisoned; and by another observation, that he was\nin the capital of the kingdom of China; also, that the person who had\npoisoned him was of mean birth, though married to a princess, a sultan's\ndaughter.\n\nWhen the magician had informed himself of his brother's fate, he\nresolved immediately to revenge his death, and at once departed for\nChina; where, after crossing plains, rivers, mountains, deserts, and a\nlong tract of country without delay, he arrived after incredible\nfatigues. When he came to the capital of China, he took a lodging at a\nkhan. His magic art soon revealed to him that Aladdin was the person who\nhad been the cause of the death of his brother. He had heard, too, all\nthe persons of repute in the city talking of a woman called Fatima, who\nwas retired from the world, and of the miracles she wrought. As he\nfancied that this woman might be serviceable to him in the project he\nhad conceived, he made more minute inquiries, and requested to be\ninformed more particularly who that holy woman was, and what sort of\nmiracles she performed.\n\n\"What!\" said the person whom he addressed, \"have you never seen or heard\nof her? She is the admiration of the whole town, for her fasting, her\nausterities, and her exemplary life. Except Mondays and Fridays, she\nnever stirs out of her little cell; and on those days on which she comes\ninto the town she does an infinite deal of good; for there is not a\nperson who is diseased but she puts her hand on them and cures them.\"\n\nHaving ascertained the place where the hermitage of this holy woman was,\nthe magician went at night, and, plunging a poniard into her heart,\nkilled this good woman. In the morning he dyed his face of the same hue\nas hers, and arraying himself in her garb, taking her veil, the large\nnecklace she wore round her waist, and her stick, went straight to the\npalace of Aladdin.\n\nAs soon as the people saw the holy woman, as they imagined him to be,\nthey presently gathered about him in a great crowd. Some begged his\nblessing, others kissed his hand, and others, more reserved, only the\nhem of his garment; while others, suffering from disease, stooped for\nhim to lay his hands upon them; which he did, muttering some words in\nform of prayer, and, in short, counterfeiting so well, that everybody\ntook him for the holy woman. He came at last to the square before\nAladdin's palace. The crowd and the noise were so great that the\nprincess, who was in the hall of four-and-twenty windows, heard it, and\nasked what was the matter. One of her women told her it was a great\ncrowd of people collected about the holy woman to be cured of diseases\nby the imposition of her hands.\n\nThe princess, who had long heard of this holy woman, but had never seen\nher, was very desirous to have some conversation with her; which the\nchief officer perceiving, told her it was an easy matter to bring her to\nher, if she desired and commanded it; and the princess expressing her\nwishes, he immediately sent four slaves for the pretended holy woman.\n\nAs soon as the crowd saw the attendants from the palace, they made way;\nand the magician, perceiving also that they were coming for him,\nadvanced to meet them, overjoyed to find his plot succeed so well. \"Holy\nwoman,\" said one of the slaves, \"the princess wants to see you, and has\nsent us for you.\" \"The princess does me too great an honour,\" replied\nthe false Fatima; \"I am ready to obey her command,\" and at the same time\nfollowed the slaves to the palace.\n\nWhen the pretended Fatima had made her obeisance, the princess said, \"My\ngood mother, I have one thing to request, which you must not refuse me;\nit is, to stay with me, that you may edify me with your way of living,\nand that I may learn from your good example.\" \"Princess,\" said the\ncounterfeit Fatima, \"I beg of you not to ask what I cannot consent to\nwithout neglecting my prayers and devotion.\" \"That shall be no hindrance\nto you,\" answered the princess; \"I have a great many apartments\nunoccupied; you shall choose which you like best, and have as much\nliberty to perform your devotions as if you were in your own cell.\"\n\nThe magician, who really desired nothing more than to introduce himself\ninto the palace, where it would be a much easier matter for him to\nexecute his designs, did not long excuse himself from accepting the\nobliging offer which the princess made him. \"Princess,\" said he,\n\"whatever resolution a poor wretched woman as I am may have made to\nrenounce the pomp and grandeur of this world, I dare not presume to\noppose the will and commands of so pious and charitable a princess.\"\n\nUpon this the princess, rising up, said, \"Come with me, I will show you\nwhat vacant apartments I have, that you may make choice of that you like\nbest.\" The magician followed the princess, and of all the apartments she\nshowed him, made choice of that which was the worst, saying that it was\ntoo good for him, and that he only accepted it to please her.\n\nAfterward the princess would have brought him back into the great hall\nto make him dine with her; but he, considering that he should then be\nobliged to show his face, which he had always taken care to conceal with\nFatima's veil, and fearing that the princess should find out that he was\nnot Fatima, begged of her earnestly to excuse him, telling her that he\nnever ate anything but bread and dried fruits, and desiring to eat that\nslight repast in his own apartment. The princess granted his request,\nsaying, \"You may be as free here, good mother, as if you were in your\nown cell: I will order you a dinner, but remember I expect you as soon\nas you have finished your repast.\"\n\nAfter the princess had dined, and the false Fatima had been sent for by\none of the attendants, he again waited upon her. \"My good mother,\" said\nthe princess, \"I am overjoyed to see so holy a woman as yourself, who\nwill confer a blessing upon this palace. But now I am speaking of the\npalace, pray how do you like it? And before I show it all to you, tell\nme first what you think of this hall.\"\n\nUpon this question, the counterfeit Fatima surveyed the hall from one\nend to the other. When he had examined it well, he said to the princess,\n\"As far as such a solitary being as I am, who am unacquainted with what\nthe world calls beautiful, can judge, this hall is truly admirable;\nthere wants but one thing.\" \"What is that, good mother?\" demanded the\nprincess; \"tell me, I conjure you. For my part, I always believed, and\nhave heard say, it wanted nothing; but if it does, it shall be\nsupplied.\"\n\n\"Princess,\" said the false Fatima, with great dissimulation, \"forgive me\nthe liberty I have taken; but my opinion is, if it can be of any\nimportance, that if a roc's egg were hung up in the middle of the dome,\nthis hall would have no parallel in the four quarters of the world, and\nyour palace would be the wonder of the universe.\"\n\n\"My good mother,\" said the princess, \"what is a roc, and where may one\nget an egg?\" \"Princess,\" replied the pretended Fatima, \"it is a bird of\nprodigious size, which inhabits the summit of Mount Caucasus; the\narchitect who built your palace can get you one.\"\n\nAfter the princess had thanked the false Fatima for what she believed\nher good advice, she conversed with her upon other matters; but could\nnot forget the roc's egg, which she resolved to request of Aladdin when\nnext he should visit his apartments. He did so in the course of that\nevening, and shortly after he entered, the princess thus addressed him:\n\"I always believed that our palace was the most superb, magnificent, and\ncomplete in the world: but I will tell you now what it wants, and that\nis a roc's egg hung up in the midst of the dome.\" \"Princess,\" replied\nAladdin, \"it is enough that you think it wants such an ornament; you\nshall see by the diligence which I use in obtaining it, that there is\nnothing which I would not do for your sake.\"\n\nAladdin left the Princess Buddir al Buddoor that moment, and went up\ninto the hall of four-and-twenty windows, where, pulling out of his\nbosom the lamp, which after the danger he had been exposed to be always\ncarried about him, he rubbed it; upon which the genie immediately\nappeared. \"Genie,\" said Aladdin, \"I command thee, in the name of this\nlamp, bring a roc's egg to be hung up in the middle of the dome of the\nhall of the palace.\" Aladdin had no sooner pronounced these words, than\nthe hall shook as if ready to fall; and the genie said in a loud and\nterrible voice, \"Is it not enough that I and the other slaves of the\nlamp have done everything for you, but you, by an unheard-of\ningratitude, must command me to bring my master, and hang him up in the\nmidst of this dome? This attempt deserves that you, the princess, and\nthe palace, should be immediately reduced to ashes; but you are spared\nbecause this request does not come from yourself. Its true author is the\nbrother of the African magician, your enemy whom you have destroyed. He\nis now in your palace, disguised in the habit of the holy woman Fatima,\nwhom he has murdered; at his suggestion your wife makes this pernicious\ndemand. His design is to kill you, therefore take care of yourself.\"\nAfter these words the genie disappeared.\n\nAladdin resolved at once what to do. He returned to the princess's\napartment, and without mentioning a word of what had happened, sat down,\nand complained of a great pain which had suddenly seized his head. On\nhearing this, the princess told him how she had invited the holy Fatima\nto stay with her, and that she was now in the palace; and at the request\nof the prince, ordered her to be summoned to her at once.\n\nWhen the pretended Fatima came, Aladdin said, \"Come hither, good mother;\nI am glad to see you here at so fortunate a time. I am tormented with a\nviolent pain in my head, and request your assistance, and hope you will\nnot refuse me that cure which you impart to afflicted persons.\" So\nsaying, he arose, but held down his head. The counterfeit Fatima\nadvanced toward him, with his hand all the time on a dagger concealed in\nhis girdle under his gown; which Aladdin, observing, he snatched the\nweapon from his hand, pierced him to the heart with his own dagger, and\nthen pushed him down on the floor.\n\n\"My dear prince, what have you done?\" cried the princess, in surprise.\n\"You have killed the holy woman!\" \"No, my princess,\" answered Aladdin\nwith emotion, \"I have not killed Fatima, but a villain, who would have\nassassinated me, if I had not prevented him. This wicked man,\" added he,\nuncovering his face, \"is the brother of the magician who attempted our\nruin. He has strangled the true Fatima, and disguised himself in her\nclothes with intent to murder me.\" Aladdin then informed her how the\ngenie had told him these facts, and how narrowly she and the palace had\nescaped destruction through his treacherous suggestion which had led to\nher request.\n\nThus was Aladdin delivered from the persecution of the two brothers, who\nwere magicians. Within a few years afterward, the sultan died in a good\nold age, and as he left no male children, the Princess Buddir al Buddoor\nsucceeded him, and she and Aladdin reigned together many years, and left\na numerous and illustrious posterity.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nTHE HISTORY OF ALI BABA, AND OF THE FORTY ROBBERS KILLED BY ONE SLAVE\n\n\nThere once lived in a town of Persia two brothers, one named Cassim and\nthe other Ali Baba. Their father divided a small inheritance equally\nbetween them. Cassim married a very rich wife, and became a wealthy\nmerchant. Ali Baba married a woman as poor as himself, and lived by\ncutting wood, and bringing it upon three asses into the town, to sell.\n\nOne day, when Ali Baba was in the forest, and had just cut wood enough\nto load his asses, he saw at a distance a great cloud of dust, which\nseemed to approach him. He observed it with attention, and distinguished\nsoon after a body of horsemen, who he suspected might be robbers. He\ndetermined to leave his asses to save himself. He climbed up a large\ntree, planted on a high rock, whose branches were thick enough to\nconceal him, and yet enabled him to see all that passed without being\ndiscovered.\n\nThe troop, who were to the number of forty, all well mounted and armed,\ncame to the foot of the rock on which the tree stood, and there\ndismounted Every man unbridled his horse, tied him to some shrub, and\nhung about his neck a bag of corn which they brought behind them. Then\neach of them took off his saddle-bag, which seemed to Ali Baba to be\nfull of gold and silver from its weight. One, whom he took to be their\ncaptain, came under the tree in which Ali Baba was concealed; and making\nhis way through some shrubs, pronounced these words: \"Open, Sesame!\"\n[Footnote: \"Sesame\" is a small grain.] As soon as the captain of the\nrobbers had thus spoken, a door opened in the rock; and after he had\nmade all his troop enter before him, he followed them, when the door\nshut again of itself.\n\nThe robbers stayed some time within the rock, during which Ali Baba,\nfearful of being caught, remained in the tree.\n\nAt last the door opened again, and as the captain went in last, so he\ncame out first, and stood to see them all pass by him; when Ali Baba\nheard him make the door close by pronouncing these words, \"Shut,\nSesame!\" Every man at once went and bridled his horse, fastened his\nwallet, and mounted again. When the captain saw them all ready, he put\nhimself at their head, and they returned the way they had come.\n\nAli Baba followed them with his eyes as far as he could see them; and\nafterward stayed a considerable time before he descended. Remembering\nthe words the captain of the robbers used to cause the door to open and\nshut, he had the curiosity to try if his pronouncing them would have the\nsame effect. Accordingly, he went among the shrubs, and perceiving the\ndoor concealed behind them, stood before it, and said, \"Open, Sesame!\"\nThe door instantly flew wide open.\n\nAli Baba, who expected a dark, dismal cavern, was surprised to see a\nwell-lighted and spacious chamber, which received the light from an\nopening at the top of the rock, and in which were all sorts of\nprovisions, rich bales of silk, stuff, brocade, and valuable carpeting,\npiled upon one another; gold and silver ingots in great heaps, and money\nin bags. The sight of all these riches made him suppose that this cave\nmust have been occupied for ages by robbers, who had succeeded one\nanother.\n\nAli Baba went boldly into the cave, and collected as much of the gold\ncoin, which was in bags, as he thought his three asses could carry. When\nhe had loaded them with the bags, he laid wood over them in such a\nmanner that they could not be seen. When he had passed in and out as\noften as he wished, he stood before the door, and pronouncing the words,\n\"Shut, Sesame!\" the door closed of itself. He then made the best of his\nway to town.\n\nWhen Ali Baba got home, he drove his asses into a little yard, shut the\ngates very carefully, threw off the wood that covered the panniers,\ncarried the bags into his house, and ranged them in order before his\nwife. He then emptied the bags, which raised such a great heap of gold\nas dazzled his wife's eyes, and then he told her the whole adventure\nfrom beginning to end, and, above all, recommended her to keep it\nsecret.\n\nThe wife rejoiced greatly in their good fortune, and would count all the\ngold piece by piece. \"Wife,\" replied Ali Baba, \"you do not know what you\nundertake, when you pretend to count the money; you will never have\ndone. I will dig a hole, and bury it. There is no time to be lost.\" \"You\nare in the right, husband,\" replied she, \"but let us know, as nigh as\npossible, how much we have. I will borrow a small measure, and measure\nit, while you dig the hole.\"\n\nAway the wife ran to her brother-in-law Cassim, who lived just by, and\naddressing herself to his wife, desired her to lend her a measure for a\nlittle while. Her sister-in-law asked her whether she would have a great\nor a small one. The other asked for a small one. She bade her stay a\nlittle, and she would readily fetch one,\n\nThe sister-in-law did so, but as she knew Ali Baba's poverty, she was\ncurious to know what sort of grain his wife wanted to measure, and\nartfully putting some suet at the bottom of the measure, brought it to\nher, with an excuse that she was sorry that she had made her stay so\nlong, but that she could not find it sooner.\n\nAli Baba's wife went home, set the measure upon the heap of gold, filled\nit, and emptied it often upon the sofa, till she had done, when she was\nvery well satisfied to find the number of measures amounted to so many\nas they did, and went to tell her husband, who had almost finished\ndigging the hole. While Ali Baba was burying the gold, his wife, to show\nher exactness and diligence to her sister-in-law, carried the measure\nback again, but without taking notice that a piece of gold had stuck to\nthe bottom. \"Sister,\" said she, giving it to her again, \"you see that I\nhave not kept your measure long. I am obliged to you for it, and return\nit with thanks.\"\n\nAs soon as Ali Baba's wife was gone, Cassim's looked at the bottom of\nthe measure, and was in inexpressible surprise to find a piece of gold\nsticking to it. Envy immediately possessed her breast. \"What!\" said she,\n\"has Ali Baba gold so plentiful as to measure it? Whence has he all this\nwealth?\"\n\nCassim, her husband, was at his counting-house. When he came home, his\nwife said to him, \"Cassim, I know you think yourself rich, but Ali Baba\nis infinitely richer than you. He does not count his money, but measures\nit.\" Cassim desired her to explain the riddle, which she did, by telling\nhim the stratagem she had used to make the discovery, and showed him the\npiece of money, which was so old that they could not tell in what\nprince's reign it was coined.\n\nCassim, after he had married the rich widow, had never treated Ali Baba\nas a brother, but neglected him; and now, instead of being pleased, he\nconceived a base envy at his brother's prosperity. He could not sleep\nall that night, and went to him in the morning before sunrise. \"Ali\nBaba,\" said he, \"I am surprised at you; you pretend to be miserably\npoor, and yet you measure gold. My wife found this at the bottom of the\nmeasure you borrowed yesterday.\"\n\nBy this discourse, Ali Baba perceived that Cassim and his wife, through\nhis own wife's folly, knew what they had so much reason to conceal; but\nwhat was done, could not be undone. Therefore, without showing the least\nsurprise or trouble, he confessed all, and offered his brother part of\nhis treasure to keep the secret.\n\n\"I expect as much,\" replied Cassim haughtily; \"but I must know exactly\nwhere this treasure is, and how I may visit it myself when I choose;\notherwise, I will go and inform against you, and then you will not only\nget no more, but will lose all you have, and I shall have a share for my\ninformation.\"\n\nAli Baba told him all he desired, even to the very words he was to use\nto gain admission into the cave.\n\nCassim rose the next morning long before the sun, and set out for the\nforest with ten mules bearing great chests, which he designed to fill,\nand followed the road which Ali Baba had pointed out to him. He was not\nlong before he reached the rock, and found out the place, by the tree\nand other marks which his brother had given him. When he reached the\nentrance of the cavern, he pronounced the words, \"Open, Sesame!\" The\ndoor immediately opened, and, when he was in, closed upon him. In\nexamining the cave, he was in great admiration to find much more riches\nthan he had expected from Ali Baba's relation. He quickly laid as many\nbags of gold as he could carry at the door of the cavern; but his\nthoughts were so full of the great riches he should possess, that he\ncould not think of the necessary word to make it open, but instead of\n\"Sesame,\" said, \"Open, Barley!\" and was much amazed to find that the\ndoor remained fast shut. He named several sorts of grain, but still the\ndoor would not open.\n\nCassim had never expected such an incident, and was so alarmed at the\ndanger he was in, that the more he endeavoured to remember the word\n\"Sesame,\" the more his memory was confounded, and he had as much\nforgotten it as if he had never heard it mentioned. He threw down the\nbags he had loaded himself with, and walked distractedly up and down the\ncave, without having the least regard to the riches that were around\nhim.\n\nAbout noon the robbers visited their cave. At some distance they saw\nCassim's mules straggling about the rock, with great chests on their\nbacks. Alarmed at this, they galloped full speed to the cave. They drove\naway the mules, which strayed through the forest so far, that they were\nsoon out of sight, and went directly, with their naked sabres in their\nhands, to the door, which, on their captain pronouncing the proper\nwords, immediately opened.\n\nCassim, who heard the noise of the horses' feet, at once guessed the\narrival of the robbers, and resolved to make one effort for his life. He\nrushed to the door, and no sooner saw the door open, than he ran out and\nthrew the leader down, but could not escape the other robbers, who with\ntheir scimitars soon deprived him of life.\n\nThe first care of the robbers after this was to examine the cave. They\nfound all the bags which Cassim had brought to the door, to be ready to\nload his mules, and carried them again to their places, but they did not\nmiss what Ali Baba had taken away before. Then holding a council, and\ndeliberating upon this occurrence, they guessed that Cassim, when he was\nin, could no get out again, but could not imagine how he had learned the\nsecret words by which alone he could enter. They could not deny the fact\nof his being there; and to terrify any person or accomplice who should\nattempt the same thing, they agreed to cut Cassim's body into four\nquarters--to hang two on one side, and two on the other, within the door\nof the cave. They had no sooner taken this resolution than they put it\nin execution; and when they had nothing more to detain them, left the\nplace of their hoards well closed. They mounted their horses, went to\nbeat the roads again, and to attack the caravans they might meet.\n\nIn the mean time, Cassim's wife was very uneasy when night came, and her\nhusband was not returned. She ran to Ali Baba in great alarm, and said,\n\"I believe, brother-in-law, that you know Cassim is gone to the forest,\nand upon what account; it is now night, and he has not returned; I am\nafraid some misfortune has happened to him.\" Ali Baba told her that she\nneed not frighten herself, for that certainly Cassim would not think it\nproper to come into the town till the night should be pretty far\nadvanced.\n\nCassim's wife, considering how much it concerned her husband to keep the\nbusiness secret, was the more easily persuaded to believe her\nbrother-in-law. She went home again, and waited patiently till midnight.\nThen her fear redoubled, and her grief was the more sensible because she\nwas forced to keep it to herself. She repented of her foolish curiosity,\nand cursed her desire of prying into the affairs of her brother and\nsister-in-law. She spent all the night in weeping; and as soon as it was\nday went to them, telling them, by her tears, the cause of her coming.\n\nAli Baba did not wait for his sister-in-law to desire him to go to see\nwhat was become of Cassim, but departed immediately with his three\nasses, begging of her first to moderate her affliction. He went to the\nforest, and when he came near the rock, having seen neither his brother\nnor the mules in his way, was seriously alarmed at finding some blood\nspilt near the door, which he took for an ill omen; but when he had\npronounced the word, and the door had opened, he was struck with horror\nat the dismal sight of his brother's body. He was not long in\ndetermining how he should pay the last dues to his brother; but without\nadverting to the little fraternal affection he had shown for him, went\ninto the cave, to find something to enshroud his remains; and having\nloaded one of his asses with them, covered them over with wood. The\nother two asses he loaded with bags of gold, covering them with wood\nalso as before; and then bidding the door shut, came away; but was so\ncautious as to stop some time at the end of the forest, that he might\nnot go into the town before night. When he came home, he drove the two\nasses loaded with gold into his little yard, and left the care of\nunloading them to his wife, while he led the other to his\nsister-in-law's house.\n\nAli Baba knocked at the door, which was opened by Morgiana, a clever,\nintelligent slave, who was fruitful in inventions to meet the most\ndifficult circumstances. When he came into the court, he unloaded the\nass, and taking Morgiana aside, said to her, \"You must observe an\ninviolable secrecy. Your master's body is contained in these two\npanniers. We must bury him as if he had died a natural death. Go now and\ntell your mistress. I leave the matter to your wit and skilful devices.\"\n\n\n\n\nAli Baba helped to place the body in Cassim's house, again recommended\nto Morgiana to act her part well, and then returned with his ass.\n\nMorgiana went out early the next morning to a druggist, and asked for a\nsort of lozenge which was considered efficacious in the most dangerous\ndisorders. The apothecary inquired who was ill? She replied, with a\nsigh, \"Her good master Cassim himself: and that he could neither eat nor\nspeak.\" In the evening Morgiana went to the same druggist's again, and\nwith tears in her eyes, asked for an essence which they used to give to\nsick people only when at the last extremity. \"Alas!\" said she, taking it\nfrom the apothecary, \"I am afraid that this remedy will have no better\neffect than the lozenges; and that I shall lose my good master.\"\n\nOn the other hand, as Ali Baba and his wife were often seen to go\nbetween Cassim's and their own house all that day, and to seem\nmelancholy, nobody was surprised in the evening to hear the lamentable\nshrieks and cries of Cassim's wife and Morgiana, who gave out everywhere\nthat her master was dead. The next morning at daybreak Morgiana went to\nan old cobbler whom she knew to be always early at his stall, and\nbidding him good-morrow, put a piece of gold into his hand, saying,\n\"Baba Mustapha, you must bring with you your sewing tackle, and come\nwith me; but I must tell you, I shall blindfold you when you come to\nsuch a place.\"\n\nBaba Mustapha seemed to hesitate a little at these words. \"Oh! oh!\"\nreplied he, \"you would have me do something against my conscience, or\nagainst my honour?\" \"God forbid,\" said Morgiana, putting another piece\nof gold into his hand, \"that I should ask anything that is contrary to\nyour honour! only come along with me and fear nothing.\"\n\nBaba Mustapha went with Morgiana, who, after she had bound his eyes with\na handkerchief at the place she had mentioned, conveyed him to her\ndeceased master's house, and never unloosed his eyes till he had entered\nthe room where she had put the corpse together. \"Baba Mustapha,\" said\nshe, \"you must make haste and sew the parts of this body together; and\nwhen you have done, I will give you another piece of gold.\"\n\nAfter Baba Mustapha had finished his task, she blindfolded him again,\ngave him the third piece of gold as she had promised, and recommending\nsecrecy to him carried him back to the place where she first bound his\neyes, pulled off the bandage, and let him go home, but watched him that\nhe returned toward his stall, till he was quite out of sight, for fear\nhe should have the curiosity to return and dodge her; she then went\nhome. Morgiana, on her return, warmed some water to wash the body, and\nat the same time Ali Baba perfumed it with incense, and wrapped it in\nthe burying clothes with the accustomed ceremonies. Not long after the\nproper officer brought the bier, and when the attendants of the mosque,\nwhose business it was to wash the dead, offered to perform their duty,\nshe told them that it was done already. Shortly after this the imaun and\nthe other ministers of the mosque arrived. Four neighbours carried the\ncorpse to the burying-ground, following the imaun, who recited some\nprayers. Ali Baba came after with some neighbours, who often relieved\nthe others in carrying the bier to the burying-ground. Morgiana, a slave\nto the deceased, followed in the procession, weeping, beating her\nbreast, and tearing her hair. Cassim's wife stayed at home mourning,\nuttering lamentable cries with the women of the neighbourhood, who came,\naccording to custom, during the funeral, and joining their lamentations\nwith hers filled the quarter far and near with sounds of sorrow.\n\nIn this manner Cassim's melancholy death was concealed and hushed up\nbetween Ali Baba, his widow, and Morgiana, his slave, with so much\ncontrivance that nobody in the city had the least knowledge or suspicion\nof the cause of it. Three or four days after the funeral, Ali Baba\nremoved his few goods openly to his sister-in-law's house, in which it\nwas agreed that he should in future live; but the money he had taken\nfrom the robbers he conveyed thither by night. As for Cassim's\nwarehouse, he entrusted it entirely to the management of his eldest son.\n\nWhile these things were being done, the forty robbers again visited\ntheir retreat in the forest. Great, then, was their surprise to find\nCassim's body taken away, with some of their bags of gold. \"We are\ncertainly discovered,\" said the captain. \"The removal of the body, and\nthe loss of some of our money, plainly shows that the man whom we killed\nhad an accomplice: and for our own lives' sake we must try and find him.\nWhat say you, my lads?\"\n\nAll the robbers unanimously approved of the captain's proposal.\n\n\"Well,\" said the captain, \"one of you, the boldest and most skilful\namong you, must go into the town, disguised as a traveller and a\nstranger, to try if he can hear any talk of the man whom we have killed,\nand endeavour to find out who he was, and where he lived. This is a\nmatter of the first importance, and for fear of any treachery, I propose\nthat whoever undertakes this business without success, even though the\nfailure arises only from an error of judgment, shall suffer death.\"\n\nWithout waiting for the sentiments of his companions, one of the robbers\nstarted up, and said, \"I submit to this condition, and think it an\nhonour to expose my life to serve the troop.\"\n\nAfter this robber had received great commendations from the captain and\nhis comrades, he disguised himself so that nobody would take him for\nwhat he was; and taking his leave of the troop that night, went into the\ntown just at daybreak; and walked up and down, till accidentally he came\nto Baba Mustapha's stall, which was always open before any of the shops.\n\nBaba Mustapha was seated with an awl in his hand, just going to work.\nThe robber saluted him, bidding him good-morrow; and perceiving that he\nwas old, said, \"Honest man, you begin to work very early: is it possible\nthat one of your age can see so well? I question, even if it were\nsomewhat lighter, whether you could see to stitch.\"\n\n\"You do not know me,\" replied Baba Mustapha; \"for old as I am, I have\nextraordinary good eyes; and you will not doubt it when I tell you that\nI sewed the body of a dead man together in a place where I had not so\nmuch light as I have now.\"\n\n\"A dead body!\" exclaimed the robber, with affected amazement. \"Yes,\nyes,\" answered Baba Mustapha, \"I see you want to have me speak out, but\nyou shall know no more.\"\n\nThe robber felt sure that he had discovered what he sought. He pulled\nout a piece of gold, and putting it into Baba Mustapha's hand, said to\nhim, \"I do not want to learn your secret, though I can assure you you\nmight safely trust me with it. The only thing I desire of you is to show\nme the house where you stitched up the dead body.\"\n\n\"If I were disposed to do you that favour,\" replied Baba Mustapha, \"I\nassure you I cannot. I was taken to a certain place, whence I was led\nblindfold to the house, and afterward brought back again in the same\nmanner; you see, therefore, the impossibility of my doing what you\ndesire.\"\n\n\"Well,\" replied the robber, \"you may, however, remember a little of the\nway that you were led blindfold. Come, let me blind your eyes at the\nsame place. We will walk together; perhaps you may recognise some part;\nand as everybody ought to be paid for their trouble, there is another\npiece of gold for you; gratify me in what I ask you.\" So saying, he put\nanother piece of gold into his hand.\n\nThe two pieces of gold were great temptations to Baba Mustapha. He\nlooked at them a long time in his hand, without saying a word, but at\nlast he pulled out his purse and put them in. \"I cannot promise,\" said\nhe to the robber, \"that I can remember the way exactly; but since you\ndesire, I will try what I can do.\" At these words Baba Mustapha rose up,\nto the great joy of the robber, and led him to the place where Morgiana\nhad bound his eyes. \"It was here,\" said Baba Mustapha, \"I was\nblindfolded; and I turned this way.\" The robber tied his handkerchief\nover his eyes, and walked by him till he stopped directly at Cassim's\nhouse, where Ali Baba then lived. The thief, before he pulled off the\nband, marked the door with a piece of chalk, which he had ready in his\nhand, and then asked him if he knew whose house that was; to which Baba\nMustapha replied that as he did not live in that neighbourhood, he could\nnot tell.\n\nThe robber, finding he could discover no more from Baba Mustapha,\nthanked him for the trouble he had taken, and left him to go back to his\nstall, while he returned to the forest, persuaded that he should be very\nwell received.\n\nA little after the robber and Baba Mustapha had parted, Morgiana went\nout of Ali Baba's house upon some errand, and upon her return, seeing\nthe mark the robber had made, stopped to observe it. \"What can be the\nmeaning of this mark?\" said she to herself; \"somebody intends my master\nno good: however, with whatever intention it was done, it is advisable\nto guard against the worst.\" Accordingly, she fetched a piece of chalk,\nand marked two or three doors on each side, in the same manner, without\nsaying a word to her master or mistress.\n\nIn the mean time, the robber rejoined his troop in the forest, and\nrecounted to them his success; expatiating upon his good fortune, in\nmeeting so soon with the only person who could inform him of what he\nwanted to know. All the robbers listened to him with the utmost\nsatisfaction; when the captain, after commending his diligence,\naddressing himself to them all, said, \"Comrades, we have no time to\nlose: let us set off well armed, without its appearing who we are; but\nthat we may not excite any suspicion, let only one or two go into the\ntown together, and join at our rendezvous, which shall be the great\nsquare. In the mean time, our comrade who brought us the good news and I\nwill go and find out the house, that we may consult what had best be\ndone.\"\n\nThis speech and plan was approved of by all, and they were soon ready.\nThey filed off in parties of two each, after some interval of time, and\ngot into the town without being in the least suspected. The captain, and\nhe who had visited the town in the morning as spy, came in the last. He\nled the captain into the street where he had marked Ali Baba's\nresidence; and when they came to the first of the houses which Morgiana\nhad marked, he pointed it out. But the captain observed that the next\ndoor was chalked in the same manner and in the same place; and showing\nit to his guide, asked him which house it was, that, or the first. The\nguide was so confounded, that he knew not what answer to make; but still\nmore puzzled, when he and the captain saw five or six houses similarly\nmarked. He assured the captain, with an oath, that he had marked but\none, and could not tell who had chalked the rest, so that he could not\ndistinguish the house which the cobbler had stopped at.\n\nThe captain, finding that their design had proved abortive, went\ndirectly to the place of meeting, and told his troop that they had lost\ntheir labour, and must return to their cave. He himself set them the\nexample, and they all returned as they had come.\n\nWhen the troop was all got together, the captain told them the reason of\ntheir returning; and presently the conductor was declared by all worthy\nof death. He condemned himself, acknowledging that he ought to have\ntaken better precaution, and prepared to receive the stroke from him who\nwas appointed to cut off his head.\n\nBut as the safety of the troop required the discovery of the second\nintruder into the cave, another of the gang, who promised himself that\nhe should succeed better, presented himself, and his offer being\naccepted, he went and corrupted Baba Mustapha, as the other had done;\nand being shown the house, marked it in a place more remote from sight,\nwith red chalk.\n\nNot long after, Morgiana, whose eyes nothing could escape, went out, and\nseeing the red chalk, and arguing with herself as she had done before,\nmarked the other neighbours' houses in the same place and manner.\n\nThe robber, at his return to his company, valued himself much on the\nprecaution he had taken, which he looked upon as an infallible way of\ndistinguishing Ali Baba's house from the others; and the captain and all\nof them thought it must succeed. They conveyed themselves into the town\nwith the same precaution as before; but when the robber and his captain\ncame to the street, they found the same difficulty; at which the captain\nwas enraged, and the robber in as great confusion as his predecessor.\n\nThus the captain and his troop were forced to retire a second time, and\nmuch more dissatisfied; while the robber who had been the author of the\nmistake underwent the same punishment, to which he willingly submitted.\n\nThe captain, having lost two brave fellows of his troop, was afraid of\ndiminishing it too much by pursuing this plan to get information of the\nresidence of their plunderer. He found by their example that their heads\nwere not so good as their hands on such occasions; and therefore\nresolved to take upon himself the important commission.\n\nAccordingly, he went and addressed himself to Baba Mustapha, who did him\nthe same service he had done to the other robbers. He did not set any\nparticular mark on the house, but examined and observed it so carefully,\nby passing often by it, that it was impossible for him to mistake it.\n\nThe captain, well satisfied with his attempt, and informed of what he\nwanted to know, returned to the forest; and when he came into the cave,\nwhere the troop waited for him, said, \"Now, comrades, nothing can\nprevent our full revenge, as I am certain of the house; and in my way\nhither I have thought how to put it into execution, but if any one can\nform a better expedient, let him communicate it.\" He then told them his\ncontrivance; and as they approved of it, ordered them to go into the\nvillages about, and buy nineteen mules, with thirty-eight large leather\njars, one full of oil, and the others empty.\n\nIn two or three days' time the robbers had purchased the mules and jars,\nand as the mouths of the jars were rather too narrow for his purpose,\nthe captain caused them to be widened, and after having put one of his\nmen into each, with the weapons which he thought fit, leaving open the\nseam which had been undone to leave them room to breathe, he rubbed the\njars on the outside with oil from the full vessel.\n\nThings being thus prepared, when the nineteen mules were loaded with\nthirty-seven robbers in jars, and the jar of oil, the captain, as their\ndriver, set out with them, and reached the town by the dusk of the\nevening, as he had intended. He led them through the streets, till he\ncame to Ali Baba's, at whose door he designed to have knocked; but was\nprevented by his sitting there after supper to take a little fresh air.\nHe stopped his mules, addressed himself to him, and said, \"I have\nbrought some oil a great way, to sell at tomorrow's market; and it is\nnow so late that I do not know where to lodge. If I should not be\ntroublesome to you, do me the favour to let me pass the night with you,\nand I shall be very much obliged by your hospitality.\"\n\nThough Ali Baba had seen the captain of the robbers in the forest, and\nhad heard him speak, it was impossible to know him in the disguise of an\noil merchant. He told him he should be welcome, and immediately opened\nhis gates for the mules to go into the yard. At the same time he called\nto a slave, and ordered him, when the mules were unloaded, to put them\ninto the stable, and to feed them; and then went to Morgiana, to bid her\nget a good supper for his guest. After they had finished supper, Ali\nBaba, charging Morgiana afresh to take care of his guest, said to her,\n\"To-morrow morning I design to go to the bath before day; take care my\nbathing linen be ready, give them to Abdalla (which was the slave's\nname), and make me some good broth against my return.\" After this he\nwent to bed.\n\nIn the mean time the captain of the robbers went into the yard, and took\noff the lid of each jar, and gave his people orders what to do.\nBeginning at the first jar, and so on to the last, he said to each man:\n\"As soon as I throw some stones out of the chamber window where I lie,\ndo not fail to come out, and I will immediately join you.\" After this he\nreturned into the house, when Morgiana, taking up a light, conducted him\nto his chamber, where she left him; and he, to avoid any suspicion, put\nthe light out soon after, and laid himself down in his clothes, that he\nmight be the more ready to rise.\n\nMorgiana, remembering Ali Baba's orders, got his bathing linen ready,\nand ordered Abdalla to set on the pot for the broth; but while she was\npreparing it the lamp went out, and there was no more oil in the house,\nnor any candles. What to do she did not know, for the broth must be\nmade. Abdalla, seeing her very uneasy, said, \"Do not fret and tease\nyourself, but go into the yard, and take some oil out of one of the\njars.\"\n\nMorgiana thanked Abdalla for his advice, took the oil-pot, and went into\nthe yard; when, as she came nigh the first jar, the robber within said\nsoftly, \"Is it time?\"\n\nThough naturally much surprised at finding a man in the jar instead of\nthe oil she wanted, she immediately felt the importance of keeping\nsilence, as Ali Baba, his family, and herself were in great danger; and\ncollecting herself, without showing the least emotion, she answered,\n\"Not yet, but presently.\" She went quietly in this manner to all the\njars, giving the same answer, till she came to the jar of oil.\n\nBy this means Morgiana found that her master Ali Baba had admitted\nthirty-eight robbers into his house, and that this pretended oil\nmerchant was their captain. She made what haste she could to fill her\noil-pot, and returned into her kitchen, where, as soon as she had\nlighted her lamp, she took a great kettle, went again to the oil-jar,\nfilled the kettle, set it on a large wood fire, and as soon as it boiled\nwent and poured enough into every jar to stifle and destroy the robber\nwithin.\n\nWhen this action, worthy of the courage of Morgiana, was executed\nwithout any noise, as she had projected, she returned into the kitchen\nwith the empty kettle; and having put out the great fire she had made to\nboil the oil, and leaving just enough to make the broth, put out the\nlamp also, and remained silent, resolving not to go to rest till she had\nobserved what might follow through a window of the kitchen, which opened\ninto the yard.\n\nShe had not waited long before the captain of the robbers got up, opened\nthe window, and finding no light, and hearing no noise, or any one\nstirring in the house, gave the appointed signal, by throwing little\nstones, several of which hit the jars, as he doubted not by the sound\nthey gave. He then listened, but not hearing or perceiving anything\nwhereby he could judge that his companions stirred, he began to grow\nvery uneasy, threw stones again a second and also a third time, and\ncould not comprehend the reason that none of them should answer his\nsignal. Much alarmed, he went softly down into the yard, and going to\nthe first jar, while asking the robber, whom he thought alive, if he was\nin readiness, smelt the hot boiled oil, which sent forth a steam out of\nthe jar. Hence he suspected that his plot to murder Ali Baba, and\nplunder his house, was discovered. Examining all the jars, one after\nanother, he found that all his gang were dead; and, enraged to despair\nat having failed in his design, he forced the lock of a door that led\nfrom the yard to the garden, and climbing over the walls made his\nescape.\n\nWhen Morgiana saw him depart, she went to bed, satisfied and pleased to\nhave succeeded so well in saving her master and family.\n\nAli Baba rose before day, and, followed by his slave, went to the baths,\nentirely ignorant of the important event which had happened at home.\n\nWhen he returned from the baths, he was very much surprised to see the\noil-jars, and that the merchant was not gone with the mules. He asked\nMorgiana, who opened the door, the reason of it. \"My good master,\"\nanswered she, \"God preserve you and all your family. You will be better\ninformed of what you wish to know when you have seen what I have to show\nyou, if you will follow me.\"\n\nAs soon as Morgiana had shut the door, Ali Baba followed her, when she\nrequested him to look into the first jar, and see if there was any oil.\nAli Baba did so, and seeing a man, started back in alarm, and cried out.\n\"Do not be afraid,\" said Morgiana \"the man you see there can neither do\nyou nor anybody else any harm. He is dead.\" \"Ah, Morgiana,\" said Ali\nBaba, \"what is it you show me? Explain yourself.\" \"I will,\" replied\nMorgiana. \"Moderate your astonishment, and do not excite the curiosity\nof your neighbours; for it is of great importance to keep this affair\nsecret. Look into all the other jars.\"\n\nAli Baba examined all the other jars, one after another; and when he\ncame to that which had the oil in it, found it prodigiously sunk, and\nstood for some time motionless, sometimes looking at the jars, and\nsometimes at Morgiana, without saying a word, so great was his surprise.\nAt last, when he had recovered himself, he said, \"And what is become of\nthe merchant?\"\n\n\"Merchant!\" answered she; \"he is as much one as I am. I will tell you\nwho he is, and what is become of him; but you had better hear the story\nin your own chamber; for it is time for your health that you had your\nbroth after your bathing.\"\n\nMorgiana then told him all she had done, from the first observing the\nmark upon the house, to the destruction of the robbers, and the flight\nof their captain.\n\nOn hearing of these brave deeds from the lips of Morgiana, Ali Baba said\nto her--\"God, by your means, has delivered me from the snares these\nrobbers laid for my destruction. I owe, therefore, my life to you; and,\nfor the first token of my acknowledgment, give you your liberty from\nthis moment, till I can complete your recompense as I intend.\"\n\nAli Baba's garden was very long, and shaded at the further end by a\ngreat number of large trees. Near these he and the slave Abdalla dug a\ntrench, long and wide enough to hold the bodies of the robbers; and as\nthe earth was light, they were not long in doing it. When this was done,\nAli Baba hid the jars and weapons; and as he had no occasion for the\nmules, he sent them at different times to be sold in the market by his\nslave.\n\nWhile Ali Baba took these measures, the captain of the forty robbers\nreturned to the forest with inconceivable mortification. He did not stay\nlong; the loneliness of the gloomy cavern became frightful to him. He\ndetermined, however, to avenge the fate of his companions, and to\naccomplish the death of Ali Baba. For this purpose he returned to the\ntown, and took a lodging in a khan, and disguised himself as a merchant\nin silks. Under this assumed character, he gradually conveyed a great\nmany sorts of rich stuffs and fine linen to his lodging from the cavern,\nbut with all the necessary precautions to conceal the place whence he\nbrought them. In order to dispose of the merchandise, when he had thus\namassed them together, he took a warehouse, which happened to be\nopposite to Cassim's, which Ali Baba's son had occupied since the death\nof his uncle.\n\nHe took the name of Cogia Houssain, and, as a new-comer, was, according\nto custom, extremely civil and complaisant to all the merchants his\nneighbours. Ali Baba's son was, from his vicinity, one of the first to\nconverse with Cogia Houssain, who strove to cultivate his friendship\nmore particularly. Two or three days after he was settled, Ali Baba came\nto see his son, and the captain of the robbers recognised him at once,\nand soon learned from his son who he was. After this he increased his\nassiduities, caressed him in the most engaging manner, made him some\nsmall presents, and often asked him to dine and sup with him, when he\ntreated him very handsomely.\n\nAli Baba's son did not choose to lie under such obligation to Cogia\nHoussain; but was so much straitened for want of room in his house, that\nhe could not entertain him. He therefore acquainted his father, Ali\nBaba, with his wish to invite him in return.\n\nAli Baba with great pleasure took the treat upon himself. \"Son,\" said\nhe, \"to-morrow being Friday, which is a day that the shops of such great\nmerchants as Cogia Houssain and yourself are shut, get him to accompany\nyou, and as you pass by my door, call in. I will go and order Morgiana\nto provide a supper.\"\n\nThe next day Ali Baba's son and Cogia Houssain met by appointment, took\ntheir walk, and as they returned, Ali Baba's son led Cogia Houssain\nthrough the street where his father lived, and when they came to the\nhouse, stopped and knocked at the door. \"This, sir,\" said he, \"is my\nfather's house, who, from the account I have given him of your\nfriendship, charged me to procure him the honour of your acquaintance;\nand I desire you to add this pleasure to those for which I am already\nindebted to you.\"\n\nThough it was the sole aim of Cogia Houssain to introduce himself into\nAli Baba's house, that he might kill him, without hazarding his own life\nor making any noise, yet he excused himself, and offered to take his\nleave; but a slave having opened the door, Ali Baba's son took him\nobligingly by the hand, and, in a manner, forced him in.\n\nAli Baba received Cogia Houssain with a smiling countenance, and in the\nmost obliging manner he could wish. He thanked him for all the favours\nhe had done his son; adding withal, the obligation was the greater, as\nhe was a young man, not much acquainted with the world, and that he\nmight contribute to his information.\n\nCogia Houssain returned the compliment by assuring Ali Baba that though\nhis son might not have acquired the experience of older men, he had good\nsense equal to the experience of many others. After a little more\nconversation on different subjects, he offered again to take his leave,\nwhen Ali Baba, stopping him, said, \"Where are you going, sir, in so much\nhaste? I beg you would do me the honour to sup with me, though my\nentertainment may not be worthy your acceptance; such as it is, I\nheartily offer it.\" \"Sir,\" replied Cogia Houssain, \"I am thoroughly\npersuaded of your good-will; but the truth is, I can eat no victuals\nthat have any salt in them; therefore judge how I should feel at your\ntable.\" \"If that is the only reason,\" said Ali Baba, \"it ought not to\ndeprive me of the honour of your company; for, in the first place, there\nis no salt ever put into my bread, and as to the meat we shall have\nto-night, I promise you there shall be none in that. Therefore you must\ndo me the favour to stay. I will return immediately.\"\n\nAli Baba went into the kitchen, and ordered Morgiana to put no salt to\nthe meat that was to be dressed that night; and to make quickly two or\nthree ragouts besides what he had ordered, but be sure to put no salt in\nthem.\n\nMorgiana, who was always ready to obey her master, could not help being\nsurprised at his strange order. \"Who is this strange man,\" said she,\n\"who eats no salt with his meat? Your supper will be spoiled, if I keep\nit back so long.\" \"Do not be angry, Morgiana,\" replied Ali Baba; \"he is\nan honest man, therefore do as I bid you.\"\n\nMorgiana obeyed, though with no little reluctance, and had a curiosity\nto see this man who ate no salt. To this end, when she had finished what\nshe had to do in the kitchen, she helped Abdalla to carry up the dishes;\nand looking at Cogia Houssain, knew him at first sight, notwithstanding\nhis disguise, to be the captain of the robbers, and examining him very\ncarefully, perceived that he had a dagger under his garment. \"I am not\nin the least amazed,\" said she to herself, \"that this wicked man, who is\nmy master's greatest enemy, would eat no salt with him, since he intends\nto assassinate him; but I will prevent him.\"\n\nMorgiana, while they were at supper, determined in her own mind to\nexecute one of the boldest acts ever meditated. When Abdalla came for\nthe dessert of fruit, and had put it with the wine and glasses before\nAli Baba, Morgiana retired, dressed herself neatly, with a suitable\nhead-dress like a dancer, girded her waist with a silver-gilt girdle, to\nwhich there hung a poniard with a hilt and guard of the same metal, and\nput a handsome mask on her face. When she had thus disguised herself,\nshe said to Abdalla, \"Take your tabour, and let us go and divert our\nmaster and his son's friend, as we do sometimes when he is alone.\"\n\nAbdalla took his tabour and played all the way into the hall before\nMorgiana, who, when she came to the door, made a low obeisance by way of\nasking leave to exhibit her skill, while Abdalla left off playing. \"Come\nin, Morgiana,\" said Ali Baba, \"and let Cogia Houssain see what you can\ndo, that he may tell us what he thinks of your performance.\"\n\nCogia Houssain, who did not expect this diversion after supper, began to\nfear he should not be able to take advantage of the opportunity he\nthought he had found; but hoped, if he now missed his aim, to secure it\nanother time, by keeping up a friendly correspondence with the father\nand son; therefore, though he could have wished Ali Baba would have\ndeclined the dance, he pretended to be obliged to him for it, and had\nthe complaisance to express his satisfaction at what he said, which\npleased his host.\n\nAs soon as Abdalla saw that Ali Baba and Cogia Houssain had done\ntalking, he began to play on the tabour, and accompanied it with an air,\nto which Morgiana, who was an excellent performer, danced in such a\nmanner as would have created admiration in any company.\n\nAfter she had danced several dances with much grace, she drew the\nponiard, and holding it in her hand, began a dance, in which she outdid\nherself by the many different figures, light movements, and the\nsurprising leaps and wonderful exertions with which she accompanied it.\nSometimes she presented the poniard to one breast, sometimes to another,\nand oftentimes seemed to strike her own. At last, she snatched the\ntabour from Abdalla with her left hand, and holding the dagger in her\nright presented the other side of the tabour, after the manner of those\nwho get a livelihood by dancing, and solicit the liberality of the\nspectators.\n\nAli Baba put a piece of gold into the tabour, as did also his son; and\nCogia Houssain seeing that she was coming to him, had pulled his purse\nout of his bosom to make her a present; but while he was putting his\nhand into it, Morgiana, with a courage and resolution worthy of herself,\nplunged the poniard into his heart.\n\nAli Baba and his son, shocked at this action, cried out aloud. \"Unhappy\nwoman!\" exclaimed Ali Baba, \"what have you done to ruin me and my\nfamily?\" \"It was to preserve, not to ruin you,\" answered Morgiana; \"for\nsee here,\" continued she, opening the pretended Cogia Houssain's\ngarment, and showing the dagger, \"what an enemy you had entertained?\nLook well at him, and you will find him to be both the fictitious oil\nmerchant, and the captain of the gang of forty robbers. Remember, too,\nthat he would eat no salt with you; and what would you have more to\npersuade you of his wicked design? Before I saw him, I suspected him as\nsoon as you told me you had such a guest. I knew him, and you now find\nthat my suspicion was not groundless.\"\n\nAli Baba, who immediately felt the new obligation he had to Morgiana for\nsaving his life a second time, embraced her: \"Morgiana,\" said he, \"I\ngave you your liberty, and then promised you that my gratitude should\nnot stop there, but that I would soon give you higher proofs of its\nsincerity, which I now do by making you my daughter-in-law.\" Then\naddressing himself to his son, he said, \"I believe you, son, to be so\ndutiful a child, that you will not refuse Morgiana for your wife. You\nsee that Cogia Houssain sought your friendship with a treacherous design\nto take away my life; and if he had succeeded, there is no doubt but he\nwould have sacrificed you also to his revenge. Consider, that by\nmarrying Morgiana you marry the preserver of my family and your own,\"\n\nThe son, far from showing any dislike, readily consented to the\nmarriage; not only because he would not disobey his father, but also\nbecause it was agreeable to his inclination. After this they thought of\nburying the captain of the robbers with his comrades, and did it so\nprivately that nobody discovered their bones till many years after, when\nno one had any concern in the publication of this remarkable history. A\nfew days afterward, Ali Baba celebrated the nuptials of his son and\nMorgiana with great solemnity, a sumptuous feast, and the usual dancing\nand spectacles; and had the satisfaction to see that his friends and\nneighbours, whom he invited, had no knowledge of the true motives of the\nmarriage; but that those who were not unacquainted with Morgiana's good\nqualities commended his generosity and goodness of heart Ali Baba did\nnot visit the robbers' cave for a whole year, as he supposed the other\ntwo, whom he could get no account of, might be alive.\n\nAt the year's end, when he found they had not made any attempt to\ndisturb him, he had the curiosity to make another journey. He mounted\nhis horse, and when he came to the cave he alighted, tied his horse to a\ntree, then approaching the entrance, and pronouncing the words, \"Open,\nSesame!\" the door opened. He entered the cavern, and by the condition he\nfound things in, judged that nobody had been there since the captain had\nfetched the goods for his shop. From this time he believed he was the\nonly person in the world who had the secret of opening the cave, and\nthat all the treasure was at his sole disposal. He put as much gold into\nhis saddle-bag as his horse would carry, and returned to town. Some\nyears later he carried his son to the cave and taught him the secret,\nwhich he handed down to his posterity, who, using their good fortune\nwith moderation, lived in great honour and splendour.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nTHE SECOND VOYAGE OF SINDBAD THE SAILOR\n\n\nI designed, after my first voyage, to spend the rest of my days at\nBagdad, but it was not long ere I grew weary of an indolent life, and I\nput to sea a second time, with merchants of known probity. We embarked\non board a good ship, and, after recommending ourselves to God, set\nsail. We traded from island to island, and exchanged commodities with\ngreat profit. One day we landed on an island covered with several sorts\nof fruit trees, but we could see neither man nor animal. We walked in\nthe meadows, along the streams that watered them. While some diverted\nthemselves with gathering flowers, and others fruits, I took my wine and\nprovisions, and sat down near a stream betwixt two high trees, which\nformed a thick shade. I made a good meal, and afterward fell asleep. I\ncannot tell how long I slept, but when I awoke the ship was gone.\n\nIn this sad condition, I was ready to die with grief. I cried out in\nagony, beat my head and breast, and threw myself upon the ground, where\nI lay some time in despair. I upbraided myself a hundred times for not\nbeing content with the produce of my first voyage, that might have\nsufficed me all my life. But all this was in vain, and my repentance\ncame too late. At last I resigned myself to the will of God. Not knowing\nwhat to do, I climbed up to the top of a lofty tree, from whence I\nlooked about on all sides, to see if I could discover anything that\ncould give me hopes. When I gazed toward the sea I could see nothing but\nsky and water; but looking over the land, I beheld something white; and\ncoming down, I took what provision I had left and went toward it, the\ndistance being so great, that I could not distinguish what it was.\n\nAs I approached, I thought it to be a white dome, of a prodigious height\nand extent; and when I came up to it, I touched it, and found it to be\nvery smooth. I went round to see if it was open on any side, but saw it\nwas not, and that there was no climbing up to the top, as it was so\nsmooth. It was at least fifty paces round.\n\nBy this time the sun was about to set, and all of a sudden the sky\nbecame as dark as if it had been covered with a thick cloud. I was much\nastonished at this sudden darkness, but much more when I found it\noccasioned by a bird of a monstrous size, that came flying toward me. I\nremembered that I had often heard mariners speak of a miraculous bird\ncalled the Roc, and conceived that the great dome which I so much\nadmired must be its egg. In short, the bird alighted, and sat over the\negg. As I perceived her coming, I crept close to the egg, so that I had\nbefore me one of the legs of the bird, which was as big as the trunk of\na tree. I tied myself strongly to it with my turban, in hopes that the\nroc next morning would carry me with her out of this desert island.\nAfter having passed the night in this condition, the bird flew away as\nsoon as it was daylight, and carried me so high, that I could not\ndiscern the earth; she afterward descended with so much rapidity that I\nlost my senses. But when I found myself on the ground, I speedily untied\nthe knot, and had scarcely done so, when the roc, having taken up a\nserpent of a monstrous length in her bill, flew away.\n\nThe spot where it left me was encompassed on all sides by mountains,\nthat seemed to reach above the clouds, and so steep that there was no\npossibility of getting out of the valley. This was a new perplexity; so\nthat when I compared this place with the desert island from which the\nroc had brought me, I found that I had gained nothing by the change.\n\nAs I walked through this valley, I perceived it was strewed with\ndiamonds, some of which were of surprising bigness. I took pleasure in\nlooking upon them; but shortly saw at a distance such objects as greatly\ndiminished my satisfaction, and which I could not view without terror,\nnamely, a great number of serpents, so monstrous that the least of them\nwas capable of swallowing an elephant. They retired in the day-time to\ntheir dens, where they hid themselves from the roc, their enemy, and\ncame out only in the night.\n\nI spent the day in walking about in the valley, resting myself at times\nin such places as I thought most convenient. When night came on I went\ninto I cave, where I thought I might repose in safety. I secured the\nentrance, which was low and narrow, with a great stone, to preserve me\nfrom the serpents; but not so far as to exclude the light. I supped on\npart of my provisions, but the serpents, which began hissing round me,\nput me into such extreme fear that I did not sleep. When day appeared\nthe serpents retired, and I came out of the cave trembling. I can justly\nsay that I walked upon diamonds without feeling any inclination to touch\nthem. At last I sat down, and notwithstanding my apprehensions, not\nhaving closed my eyes during the night, fell asleep, after having eaten\na little more of my provisions. But I had scarcely shut my eyes when\nsomething that fell by me with a great noise awaked me. This was a large\npiece of raw meat; and at the same time I saw several others fall down\nfrom the rocks in different places.\n\nI had always regarded as fabulous what I had heard sailors and others\nrelate of the valley of diamonds, and of the stratagems employed by\nmerchants to obtain jewels from thence; but now I found that they had\nstated nothing but the truth. For the fact is, that the merchants come\nto the neighbourhood of this valley, when the eagles have young ones,\nand throwing great joints of meat into the valley, the diamonds, upon\nwhose points they fall, stick to them; the eagles, which are stronger in\nthis country than anywhere else, pounce with great force upon those\npieces of meat, and carry them to their nests on the precipices of the\nrocks to feed their young: the merchants at this time run to their\nnests, disturb and drive off the eagles by their shouts, and take away\nthe diamonds that stick to the meat.\n\nI perceived in this device the means of my deliverance.\n\nHaving collected together the largest diamonds I could find, I put them\ninto the leather bag in which I used to carry my provisions, I took the\nlargest of the pieces of meat, tied it close round me with the cloth of\nmy turban, and then laid myself upon the ground, with my face downward,\nthe bag of diamonds being made fast to my girdle.\n\nI had scarcely placed myself in this posture when one of the eagles,\nhaving taken me up with the piece of meat to which I was fastened,\ncarried me to his nest on the top of the mountain. The merchants\nimmediately began their shouting to frighten the eagles; and when they\nhad obliged them to quit their prey, one of them came to the nest where\nI was. He was much alarmed when he saw me; but recovering himself,\ninstead of inquiring how I came thither, began to quarrel with me, and\nasked why I stole his goods? \"You will treat me,\" replied I, \"with more\ncivility, when you know me better. Do not be uneasy; I have diamonds\nenough for you and myself, more than all the other merchants together.\nWhatever they have they owe to chance; but I selected for myself, in the\nbottom of the valley, those which you see in this bag,\" I had scarcely\ndone speaking, when the other merchants came crowding about us, much\nastonished to see me; but they were much more surprised when I told them\nmy story.\n\nThey conducted me to their encampment; and there having opened my bag,\nthey were surprised at the largeness of my diamonds, and confessed that\nthey had never seen any of such size and perfection. I prayed the\nmerchant who owned the nest to which I had been carried (for every\nmerchant had his own) to take as many for his share as he pleased. He\ncontented himself with one, and that, too, the least of them; and when I\npressed him to take more, without fear of doing me any injury, \"No,\"\nsaid he, \"I am very well satisfied with this, which is valuable enough\nto save me the trouble of making any more voyages, and will raise as\ngreat a fortune as I desire.\"\n\nI spent the night with the merchants, to whom I related my story a\nsecond time, for the satisfaction of those who had not heard it, I could\nnot moderate my joy when I found myself delivered from the danger I have\nmentioned. I thought myself in a dream, and could scarcely believe\nmyself out of danger.\n\nThe merchants had thrown their pieces of meat into the valley for\nseveral days; and each of them being satisfied with the diamonds that\nhad fallen to his lot, we left the place the next morning, and travelled\nnear high mountains, where there were serpents of a prodigious length,\nwhich we had the good fortune to escape. We took shipping at the first\nport we reached, and touched at the isle of Roha, where the trees grow\nthat yield camphire. This tree is so large, and its branches so thick,\nthat one hundred men may easily sit under its shade. The juice, of which\nthe camphire is made, exudes from a hole bored in the upper part of the\ntree, and is received in a vessel, where it thickens to a consistency,\nand becomes what we call camphire. After the juice is thus drawn out,\nthe tree withers and dies.\n\nIn this island is also found the rhinoceros, an animal less than the\nelephant, but larger than the buffalo. It has a horn upon its nose,\nabout a cubit in length; this horn is solid, and cleft through the\nmiddle. The rhinoceros fights with the elephant, runs his horn into his\nbelly, and carries him off upon his head; but the blood and the fat of\nthe elephant running into his eyes and making him blind, he falls to the\nground; and then, strange to relate, the roc comes and carries them both\naway in her claws, for food for her young ones.\n\nI pass over many other things peculiar to this island, lest I should\nweary you. Here I exchanged some of my diamonds for merchandise. From\nhence we went to other islands, and at last, having touched at several\ntrading towns of the continent, we landed at Bussorah, from whence I\nproceeded to Bagdad. There I immediately gave large presents to the\npoor, and lived honourably upon the vast riches I had brought, and\ngained with so much fatigue.\n\nThus Sindbad ended the relation of the second voyage, gave Hindbad\nanother hundred sequins, and invited him to come the next day to hear\nthe account of the third.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nTHE WHITE CAT\n\n\nThere was once a king who had three sons, all remarkably handsome in\ntheir persons, and in their tempers brave and noble. Some wicked\ncourtiers made the king believe that the princes were impatient to wear\nthe crown, and that they were contriving a plot to deprive him of his\nsceptre and his kingdom. The king felt he was growing old; but as he\nfound himself as capable of governing as he had ever been, he had no\ninclination to resign his power; and therefore, that he might pass the\nrest of his days peaceably, he determined to employ the princes in such\na manner, as at once to give each of them the hope of succeeding to the\ncrown, and fill up the time they might otherwise spend in so undutiful a\nmanner. He sent for them to his cabinet, and after conversing with them\nkindly, he added: \"You must be sensible, my dear children, that my great\nage prevents me from attending so closely as I have hitherto done to\nstate affairs. I fear this may be injurious to my subjects; I therefore\ndesire to place my crown on the head of one of you, but it is no more\nthan just, that in return for such a present, you should procure me some\namusement in my retirement, before I leave the Capital for ever. I\ncannot help thinking, that a little dog, that is handsome, faithful, and\nengaging, would be the very thing to make me happy; so that without\nbestowing a preference on either of you, I declare that he who brings me\nthe most perfect little dog shall be my successor.\" The princes were\nmuch surprised at the fancy of their father to have a little dog, yet\nthey accepted the proposition with pleasure: and accordingly, after\ntaking leave of the king, who presented them with abundance of money and\njewels, and appointed that day twelvemonth for their return, they set\noff on their travels.\n\nBefore taking leave of each other, however, they took some refreshment\ntogether, in an old palace about three miles out of town where they\nagreed to meet in the same place on that day twelvemonth, and go all\ntogether with their presents to court. They also agreed to change their\nnames, that they might be unknown to every one in their travels.\n\nEach took a different road; but it is intended to relate the adventures\nof only the youngest, who was the handsomest, most amiable, and\naccomplished prince that had ever been seen. No day passed, as he\ntravelled from town to town, that he did not buy all the handsome dogs\nthat fell in his way; and as soon as he saw one that was handsomer than\nthose he had before, he made a present of the last; for twenty servants\nwould have been scarcely sufficient to take care of all the dogs he was\ncontinually buying.\n\nAt length, wandering he knew not whither, he found himself in a forest;\nnight suddenly came on, and with it a violent storm of thunder,\nlightning, and rain. To add to his perplexity, he lost his path, and\ncould find no way out of the forest. After he had groped about for a\nlong time, he perceived a light, which made him suppose that he was not\nfar from some house: he accordingly pursued his way towards it, and in a\nshort time found himself at the gates of the most magnificent palace he\never beheld. The door that opened into it was made of gold, covered with\nsapphire stones, which cast so resplendent a brightness over everything\naround, that scarcely could the strongest eyesight bear to look at it.\nThis was the light the prince had seen from the forest. The walls of the\nbuilding were of transparent porcelain, variously coloured, and\nrepresented the history of all the fairies that had existed from the\nbeginning of the world. The prince coming back to the golden door,\nobserved a deer's foot fastened to a chain of diamonds; he could not\nhelp wondering at the magnificence he beheld, and the security in which\nthe inhabitants seemed to live; \"for,\" said he to himself, \"nothing can\nbe easier than for thieves to steal this chain, and as many of the\nsapphire stones as would make their fortunes.\" He pulled the chain, and\nheard a bell the sound of which was exquisite. In a few moments the door\nwas opened; but he perceived nothing but twelve hands in the air, each\nholding a torch. The prince was so astonished that he durst not move a\nstep; when he felt himself gently pushed on by some other hands from\nbehind him. He walked on, in great perplexity, till he entered a\nvestibule inlaid with porphyry and lapis-stone. There the most melodious\nvoice he had ever heard chanted the following words:\n\n    \"Welcome, prince, no danger fear,\n     Mirth and love attend you here;\n     You shall break the magic spell,\n     That on a beauteous lady fell.\n\n    \"Welcome, prince, no danger fear,\n     Mirth and love attend you here,\"\n\nThe prince now advanced with confidence, wondering what these words\ncould mean; the hands moved him forward towards a large door of coral,\nwhich opened of itself to give him admittance into a splendid apartment\nbuilt of mother-of-pearl, through which he passed into others so richly\nadorned with paintings and jewels, and so resplendently lighted with\nthousands of lamps, girandoles and lustres, that the prince imagined he\nmust be in an enchanted palace. When he had passed through sixty\napartments, all equally splendid, he was stopped by the hands, and a\nlarge easy-chair advanced of itself towards the chimney; and the hands,\nwhich he observed were extremely white and delicate, took off his wet\nclothes, and supplied their place with the finest linen imaginable, and\nthen added a commodious wrapping-gown, embroidered with the brightest\ngold, and all over enriched with pearls. The hands next brought him an\nelegant dressing-table, and combed his hair so very gently that he\nscarcely felt their touch. They held before him a beautiful basin,\nfilled with perfumes, for him to wash his face and hands, and afterwards\ntook off the wrapping-gown and dressed him in a suit of clothes of still\ngreater splendour. When his dress was complete, they conducted him to an\napartment he had not yet seen, and which also was magnificently\nfurnished. There was in it a table spread for a repast, and everything\nupon it was of the purest gold adorned with jewels. The prince observed\nthere were two covers set, and was wondering who was to be his\ncompanion, when his attention was suddenly caught by a small figure not\na foot high, which just then entered the room, and advanced towards him.\nIt had on a long black veil, and was supported by two cats dressed in\nmourning, and with swords by their sides: they were followed by a\nnumerous retinue of cats, some carrying cages full of rats and others\nmousetraps full of mice.\n\nThe prince was at a loss what to think. The little figure now\napproached, and throwing aside her veil, he beheld a most beautiful\nwhite cat. She seemed young and melancholy, and addressing herself to\nthe prince, she said, \"Young prince, you are welcome; your presence\naffords me the greatest pleasure.\" \"Madam,\" replied the prince, \"I would\nfain thank you for your generosity, nor can I help observing that you\nmust be an extraordinary creature to possess with your present form the\ngift of speech and the magnificent palace I have seen.\" \"All this is\nvery true,\" answered the beautiful cat, \"but, prince, I am not fond of\ntalking, and least of all do I like compliments; let us therefore sit\ndown to supper.\" The trunkless hands then placed the dishes on the\ntable, and the prince and white cat seated themselves. The first dish\nwas a pie made of young pigeons, and the next was a fricassee of the\nfattest mice. The view of the one made the prince almost afraid to taste\nthe other till the white cat, who guessed his thoughts, assured him that\nthere were certain dishes at table in which there was not a morsel of\neither rat or mouse, which had been dressed on purpose for him.\nAccordingly he ate heartily of such as she recommended. When supper was\nover, the prince perceived that the white cat had a portrait set in gold\nhanging to one of her feet. He begged her permission to look at it;\nwhen, to his astonishment, he saw the portrait of a handsome young man,\nthat exactly resembled himself! He thought there was something very\nextraordinary in all this: yet, as the white cat sighed and looked very\nsorrowful, he did not venture to ask any questions. He conversed with\nher on different subjects, and found her extremely well versed in every\nthing that was passing in the world. When night was far advanced, the\nwhite cat wished him a good night, and he was conducted by the hands to\nhis bedchamber, which was different still from any thing he had seen in\nthe palace, being hung with the wings of butterflies, mixed with the\nmost curious feathers. His bed was of gauze, festooned with bunches of\nthe gayest ribands, and the looking-glasses reached from the floor to\nthe ceiling. The prince was undressed and put into bed by the hands,\nwithout speaking a word. He however slept little, and in the morning was\nawaked by a confused noise. The hands took him out of bed, and put on\nhim a handsome hunting-jacket. He looked into the court-yard, and\nperceived more than five hundred cats, busily employed in preparing for\nthe field, for this was a day of festival. Presently the white cat came\nto his apartment; and having politely inquired after his health, she\ninvited him to partake of their amusement. The prince willingly\naccepted, mounted a wooden horse, richly caparisoned, which had been\nprepared for him, and which he was assured would gallop to admiration.\nThe beautiful white cat mounted a monkey, dressed in a dragoon's bonnet,\nwhich made her look so fierce that all the rats and mice ran away in the\nutmost terror.\n\nEvery thing being ready, the horns sounded, and away they went; no\nhunting was ever more agreeable; the cats ran faster than the hares and\nrabbits; and when they caught any they were hunted in the presence of\nthe white cat, and a thousand cunning tricks were played. Nor were the\nbirds in safety; for the monkey made nothing of climbing up the trees,\nwith the white cat on his back, to the nest of the young eagles. When\nthe hunting was over, the whole retinue returned to the palace; and the\nwhite cat immediately exchanged her dragoon's cap for the veil, and sat\ndown to supper with the prince, who, being very hungry, ate heartily,\nand afterwards partook with her of the most delicious liqueurs, which\nbeing often repeated made him forget that he was to procure a little dog\nfor the old king. He thought no longer of any thing but of pleasing the\nsweet little creature who received him so courteously; accordingly every\nday was spent in new amusements. The prince had almost forgotten his\ncountry and relations, and sometimes even regretted that he was not a\ncat, so great was his affection for his mewing companions. \"Alas!\" said\nhe to the white cat, \"how will it afflict me to leave you whom I love so\nmuch! Either make yourself a lady, or make me a cat.\" She smiled at the\nprince's wish, but made him scarcely any reply. At length the\ntwelvemonth was nearly expired; the white cat, who knew the very day\nwhen the prince was to reach his father's palace, reminded him that he\nhad but three days longer to look for a perfect little dog. The prince,\nastonished at his own forgetfulness, began to afflict himself; when the\ncat told him not to be so sorrowful, since she would not only provide\nhim with a little dog, but also with a wooden horse which should convey\nhim safely in less than twelve hours. \"Look here,\" said she, showing him\nan acorn, \"this contains what you desire.\" The prince put the acorn to\nhis ear, and heard the barking of a little dog. Transported with joy, he\nthanked the cat a thousand times, and the next day, bidding her tenderly\nadieu, he set out on his return.\n\nThe prince arrived first at the place of rendezvous, and was soon joined\nby his brothers; they mutually embraced, and began to give an account of\ntheir success; when the youngest showed them only a little mongrel cur,\ntelling them he thought it could not fail to please the king from its\nextraordinary beauty, the brothers trod on each other's toes under the\ntable; as much as to say, we have not much to fear from this sorry\nlooking animal. The next day they went together to the palace. The dogs\nof the two elder princes were lying on cushions, and so curiously\nwrapped around with embroidered quilts, that one would scarcely venture\nto touch them. The youngest produced his cur, dirty all over, and all\nwondered how the prince could hope to receive a crown for such a\npresent. The king examined the two little dogs of the elder princes, and\ndeclared he thought them so equally beautiful that he knew not to which,\nwith justice, he could give the preference. They accordingly began to\ndispute; when the youngest prince, taking his acorn from his pocket,\nsoon ended their contention; for a little dog appeared which could with\nease go through the smallest ring, and was besides a miracle of beauty.\nThe king could not possibly hesitate in declaring his satisfaction; yet,\nas he was not more inclined than the year before to part with his crown,\nhe could think of nothing more to his purpose than telling his sons that\nhe was extremely obliged to them for the pains they had taken; and that\nsince they had succeeded so well, he could not but wish they would make\na second attempt; he therefore begged they would take another year for\nprocuring him a piece of cambric, so fine as to be drawn through the eye\nof a small needle.\n\nThe three princes thought this very hard; yet they set out in obedience\nto the king's command. The two eldest took different roads, and the\nyoungest remounted his wooden horse, and in a short time arrived at the\npalace of his beloved white cat, who received him with the greatest joy,\nwhile the trunkless hands helped him to dismount, and provided him with\nimmediate refreshments; after which the prince gave the white cat an\naccount of the admiration which had been bestowed on the beautiful\nlittle dog, and informed her of his father's farther injunction. \"Make\nyourself perfectly easy, dear prince,\" said she, \"I have in my palace\nsome cats that are perfectly clever in making such cambric as the king\nrequires; so you have nothing to do but to give me the pleasure of your\ncompany while it is making; and I will procure you all the amusement\npossible.\" She accordingly ordered the most curious fireworks to be\nplayed off in sight of the window of the apartment in which they were\nsitting; and nothing but festivity and rejoicing was heard throughout\nthe palace for the prince's return. As the white cat continually gave\nproofs of an excellent understanding, the prince was by no means tired\nof her company; she talked with him of state affairs, of theatres, of\nfashions; in short, she was at a loss on no subject whatever; so that\nwhen the prince was alone, he had plenty of amusement in thinking how it\ncould possibly be that a small white cat could be endowed with all the\npowers of human creatures.\n\nThe twelvemonth in this manner again passed insensibly away; but the cat\ntook care to remind the prince of his duty in proper time. \"For once, my\nprince,\" said she, \"I will have the pleasure of equipping you as suits\nyour high rank;\" when looking into the court-yard, he saw a superb car,\nornamented all over with gold, silver, pearls and diamonds, drawn by\ntwelve horses as white as snow, and harnessed in the most sumptuous\ntrappings; and behind the car a thousand guards richly apparelled were\nin waiting to attend on the prince's person. She then presented him with\na nut: \"You will find in it,\" said she, \"the piece of cambric I promised\nyou. Do not break the shell till you are in the presence of the king\nyour father.\" Then, to prevent the acknowledgments which the prince was\nabout to offer, she hastily bade him adieu. Nothing could exceed the\nspeed with which the snow-white horses conveyed this fortunate prince to\nhis father's palace, where his brothers had just arrived before him.\nThey embraced each other, and demanded an immediate audience of the\nking, who received them with the greatest kindness. The princes hastened\nto place at the feet of his majesty the curious present he had required\nthem to procure. The eldest produced a piece of cambric that was so\nextremely fine, that his friends had no doubt of its passing the eye of\nthe needle, which was now delivered to the king, having been kept locked\nup in the custody of his majesty's treasurer all the time, Every one\nsupposed he would certainly obtain the crown. But when the king tried to\ndraw it through the eye of the needle, it would not pass, though it\nfailed but very little. Then came the second prince, who made as sure of\nobtaining the crown as his brother had done; but, alas! with no better\nsuccess: for though his piece of cambric was exquisitely fine, yet it\ncould not be drawn through the eye of the needle. It was now the\nyoungest prince's turn, who accordingly advanced, and opening an elegant\nlittle box inlaid with jewels, he took out a walnut, and cracked the\nshell, imagining he should immediately perceive his piece of cambric;\nbut what was his astonishment to see nothing but a filbert! He did not\nhowever lose his hopes; he cracked the filbert, and it presented him\nwith a cherry-stone. The lords of the court, who had assembled to\nwitness this extraordinary trial, could not, any more than the princes\nhis brothers, refrain from laughing, to think he should be so silly as\nto claim with them the crown on no better pretensions. The prince\nhowever cracked the cherry-stone, which was filled with a kernel: he\ndivided it, and found in the middle a grain of wheat, and in that grain\na millet seed. He was now absolutely confounded, and could not help\nmuttering between his teeth: \"O white cat, white cat, thou hast deceived\nme!\" At this instant he felt his hand scratched by the claw of a cat:\nupon which he again took courage, and opening the grain of millet seed,\nto the astonishment of all present, he drew forth a piece of cambric\nfour hundred yards long, and fine enough to be drawn with perfect ease\nthrough the eye of the needle. When the king found he had no pretext\nleft for refusing the crown to his youngest son, he sighed deeply, and\nit was easy to be seen that he was sorry for the prince's success. \"My\nsons,\" said he, \"it is so gratifying to the heart of a father to receive\nproofs of his children's love and obedience, that I cannot refuse myself\nthe satisfaction of requiring of you one thing more. You must undertake\nanother expedition; and whichever, by the end of a year, brings me the\nmost beautiful lady, shall marry her, and obtain my crown.\"\n\nSo they again took leave of the king and of each other, and set out\nwithout delay, and in less than twelve hours our young prince arrived in\nhis splendid car at the palace of his dear white cat. Every thing went\non as before, till the end of another year. At length only one day\nremained of the year, when the white cat thus addressed him: \"To-morrow,\nmy prince, you must present yourself at the palace of your father, and\ngive him a proof of your obedience. It depends only on yourself to\nconduct thither the most beautiful princess ever yet beheld, for the\ntime is come when the enchantment by which I am bound may be ended. You\nmust cut off my head and tail,\" continued she, \"and throw them into the\nfire.\" \"I!\" said the prince hastily, \"I cut off your head and tail! You\nsurely mean to try my affection, which, believe me, beautiful cat, is\ntruly yours.\" \"You mistake me, generous prince,\" said she, \"I do not\ndoubt your regard; but if you wish to see me in any other form than that\nof a cat, you must consent to do as I desire. Then you will have done me\na service I shall never be able sufficiently to repay.\" The prince's\neyes filled with tears as she spoke, yet he considered himself obliged\nto undertake the dreadful task, and the cat continuing to press him with\ngreater eagerness, with a trembling hand he drew his sword, cut off her\nhead and tail, and threw them into the fire. No sooner was this done,\nthan the most beautiful lady his eyes had ever seen stood before him:\nand before he had sufficiently recovered from his surprise to speak to\nher, a long train of attendants, who, at the same moment as their\nmistress, were changed to their natural shapes, came to offer their\ncongratulations to the queen, and inquire her commands. She received\nthem with the greatest kindness; and ordering them to withdraw, she thus\naddressed the astonished prince. \"Do not imagine, dear prince, that I\nhave always been a cat, or that I am of obscure birth. My father was the\nmonarch of six kingdoms; he tenderly loved my mother, leaving her always\nat liberty to follow her own inclinations. Her prevailing passion was to\ntravel; and a short time before my birth, having heard of some fairies\nwho were in possession of the largest gardens filled with the most\ndelicious fruits, she had so strong a desire to eat some of them, that\nshe set out for the country in which they lived. She arrived at their\nabode which she found to be a magnificent palace, on all sides\nglittering with gold and precious stones. She knocked a long time at the\ngates; but no one came, nor could she perceive the least sign that it\nhad any inhabitant. The difficulty, however, did but increase the\nviolence of my mother's longing; for she saw the tops of the trees above\nthe garden walls loaded with the most luscious fruits. The queen, in\ndespair, ordered her attendants to place tents close to the door of the\npalace; but having waited six weeks, without seeing any one pass the\ngates, she fell sick of vexation, and her life was despaired of.\n\n\"One night, as she lay half asleep, she turned herself about, and\nopening her eyes, perceived a little old woman, very ugly and deformed,\nseated in the easy chair by her bedside. 'I, and my sister fairies,'\nsaid she, 'take it very ill that your majesty should so obstinately\npersist in getting some of our fruit; but since so precious a life is at\nstake, we consent to give you as much as you can carry away, provided\nyou will give us in return what we shall ask.' 'Ah! kind fairy,' cried\nthe queen, 'I will give you anything I possess, even my very kingdoms,\non condition that I eat of your fruit.' The old fairy then informed the\nqueen that what they required was, that she would give them the child\nshe was going to have, as soon as she should be born; adding, that every\npossible care should be taken of her, and that she should become the\nmost accomplished princess. The queen replied, that however cruel the\ncondition, she must accept it, since nothing but the fruit could save\nher life. In short, dear prince,\" continued the lady, \"my mother\ninstantly got out of bed, was dressed by her attendants, entered the\npalace, and satisfied her longing. When the queen had eaten her fill,\nshe ordered four thousand mules to be procured, and loaded with the\nfruit, which had the virtue of continuing all the year round in a state\nof perfection. Thus provided, she returned to the king, my father, who\nwith the whole court, received her with rejoicings, as it was before\nimagined she would die of disappointment. All this time the queen said\nnothing to my father of the promise she had made, to give her daughter\nto the fairies; so that, when the time was come that she expected my\nbirth, she grew very melancholy; till at length, being pressed by the\nking, she declared to him the truth. Nothing could exceed his\naffliction, when he heard that his only child, when born, was to be\ngiven to the fairies. He bore it, however, as well as he could, for fear\nof adding to my mother's grief; and also believing he should find some\nmeans of keeping me in a place of safety, which the fairies would not be\nable to approach. As soon therefore as I was born, he had me conveyed to\na tower in the palace, to which there were twenty flights of stairs, and\na door to each, of which my father kept the key, so that none came near\nme without his consent. When the fairies heard of what had been done,\nthey sent first to demand me; and on my father's refusal, they let loose\na monstrous dragon, who devoured men, women and children, and the breath\nof whose nostrils destroyed every thing it came near, so that the trees\nand plants began to die in great abundance. The grief of the king, at\nseeing this, could scarcely be equalled; and finding that his whole\nkingdom would in a short time be reduced to famine, he consented to give\nme into their hands. I was accordingly laid in a cradle of\nmother-of-pearl, ornamented with gold and jewels, and carried to their\npalace, when the dragon immediately disappeared. The fairies placed me\nin a tower of their palace, elegantly furnished, but to which there was\nno door, so that whoever approached was obliged to come by the windows,\nwhich were a great height from the ground: from these I had the liberty\nof getting out into a delightful garden, in which were baths, and every\nsort of cooling fruit. In this place was I educated by the fairies, who\nbehaved to me with the greatest kindness; my clothes were splendid, and\nI was instructed in every kind of accomplishment. In short, prince, if I\nhad never seen any one but themselves, I should have remained very\nhappy. One of the windows of my tower overlooked a long avenue shaded\nwith trees, so that I had never seen in it a human creature. One day,\nhowever, as I was talking at this window with my parrot, I perceived a\nyoung gentleman who was listening to our conversation. As I had never\nseen a man, but in pictures, I was not sorry for the opportunity of\ngratifying my curiosity. I thought him a very pleasing object, and he at\nlength bowed in the most respectful manner, without daring to speak, for\nhe knew that I was in the palace of the fairies. When it began to grow\ndark he went away, and I vainly endeavoured to see which road he took.\nThe next morning, as soon as it was light, I again placed myself at the\nwindow, and had the pleasure of seeing that the gentleman had returned\nto the same place. He now spoke to me through a speaking-trumpet, and\ninformed me he thought me a most charming lady, and that he should be\nvery unhappy if he did not pass his life in my company.\n\n\"I resolved to find some means of escaping from my tower with the\nengaging prince I had seen. I was not long in devising a means for the\nexecution of my project. I begged the fairies to bring me a\nnetting-needle, a mesh and some cord, saying I wished to make some nets\nto amuse myself with catching birds at my window. This they readily\ncomplied with, and in a short time I completed a ladder long enough to\nreach the ground. I now sent my parrot to the prince, to beg he would\ncome to his usual place, as I wished to speak with him. He did not fail,\nand finding the ladder, mounted it, and quickly entered my tower. This\nat first alarmed me; but the charms of his conversation had restored me\nto tranquillity, when all at once the window opened, and the fairy\nViolent, mounted on the dragon's back, rushed into the tower. My beloved\nprince thought of nothing but how to defend me from their fury; for I\nhad had time to relate to him my story, previous to this cruel\ninterruption; but their numbers overpowered him, and the fairy Violent\nhad the barbarity to command the dragon to devour my prince before my\neyes. In my despair, I would have thrown myself also into the mouth of\nthe horrible monster, but this they took care to prevent, saying my life\nshould be preserved for greater punishment. The fairy then touched me\nwith her wand, and I instantly became a white cat. She next conducted me\nto this palace, which belonged to my father, and gave me a train of cats\nfor my attendants, together with the twelve hands which waited on your\nhighness. She then informed me of my birth, and the death of my parents,\nand pronounced upon me what she imagined the greatest of maledictions:\nThat I should not be restored to my natural figure till a young prince,\nthe perfect resemblance of him I had lost, should cut off my head and\ntail. You are that perfect resemblance; and, accordingly, you have ended\nthe enchantment. I need not add, that I already love you more than my\nlife. Let us therefore hasten to the palace of the king your father, and\nobtain his approbation to our marriage.\"\n\nThe prince and princess accordingly set out side by side, in a car of\nstill greater splendour than before, and reached the palace just as the\ntwo brothers had arrived with two beautiful princesses. The king,\nhearing that each of his sons had succeeded in finding what he had\nrequired, again began to think of some new expedient to delay the time\nof his resigning his crown; but when the whole court were with the king\nassembled to pass judgment, the princess who accompanied the youngest,\nperceiving his thoughts by his countenance, stepped majestically\nforward, and thus addressed him: \"What pity that your majesty, who is so\ncapable of governing, should think of resigning the crown! I am\nfortunate enough to have six kingdoms in my possession; permit me to\nbestow one on each of the eldest princes, and to enjoy the remaining\nfour in the society of the youngest. And may it please your majesty to\nkeep your own kingdom, and make no decision concerning the beauty of\nthree princesses, who, without such a proof of your majesty's\npreference, will no doubt live happily together!\" The air resounded with\nthe applauses of the assembly. The young prince and princess embraced\nthe king, and next their brothers and sisters; the three weddings\nimmediately took place; and the kingdoms were divided as the princess\nhad proposed.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nTHE GOLDEN GOOSE\n\n\nThere was a man who had three sons, the youngest of whom was considered\nvery silly, and everybody used to mock him and make fun of him. The\neldest son wanted to go and cut wood in the forest, and before he left\nhome his mother prepared beautiful pancakes and a bottle of wine for him\nto take with him, so that he might not suffer from hunger or thirst.\n\nAs he entered the forest he met a gray old man, who bade him\n\"Good-morning,\" and said: \"Give me a little piece of cake out of your\nbasket and a drop of wine out of your bottle, for I am very hungry and\nthirsty.\"\n\nBut the clever son replied: \"What, give you my cake and my wine! Why, if\nI did, I should have none for myself. Not I, indeed, so take yourself\noff!\" and he left the man standing and went on.\n\nThe young man began cutting down a tree, but it was not long before he\nmade a false stroke: the axe slipped and cut his arm so badly that he\nwas obliged to go home and have it bound up. Now, this false stroke was\ncaused by the little gray old man.\n\nNext day the second son went into the forest to cut wood, and his mother\ngave him a cake and a bottle of wine. As he entered the wood the same\nlittle old man met him, and begged for a piece of cake and a drop of\nwine. But the second son answered rudely: \"What I might give to you I\nshall want myself, so be off.\"\n\nThen he left the little old man standing in the road, and walked on. His\npunishment soon came; he had scarcely given two strokes on a tree with\nhis axe, when he hit his leg such a terrible blow that he was obliged to\nlimp home in great pain.\n\nThen the stupid son said to his father, \"Let me go for once and cut wood\nin the forest.\"\n\nBut his father said: \"No, your brothers have been hurt already, and it\nwould be worse for you, who don't understand wood-cutting.\"\n\nThe boy, however, begged so hard to be allowed to go that his father\nsaid: \"There, get along with you; you will buy your experience very\ndearly, I expect.\"\n\nHis mother, however, gave him a cake which had been made with water and\nbaked in the ashes, and a bottle of sour beer.\n\nWhen he reached the wood the very same little old man met him, and after\ngreeting him kindly, said: \"Give me a little of your cake and a drop\nfrom your bottle, for I am very hungry and thirsty.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" replied the simple youth, \"I have only a cake, which has been\nbaked in the ashes, and some sour beer; but you are welcome to a share\nof it. Let us sit down, and eat and drink together.\"\n\nSo they seated themselves, and, lo and behold, when the youth opened his\nbasket, the cake had been turned into a beautiful cake, and the sour\nbeer into wine. After they had eaten and drank enough, the little old\nman said: \"Because you have been kind-hearted, and shared your dinner\nwith me, I will make you in future lucky in all you undertake. There\nstands an old tree; cut it down, and you will find something good at the\nroot.\"\n\nThen the old man said \"Farewell,\" and left him.\n\nThe youth set to work, and very soon succeeded in felling the tree, when\nhe found sitting at the roots a goose, whose feathers were of pure gold.\nHe took it up, and, instead of going home, carried it with him to an inn\nat a little distance, where he intended to pass the night.\n\nThe landlord had three daughters, who looked at the goose with envious\neyes. They had never seen such a wonderful bird, and longed to have at\nleast one of its feathers. \"Ah,\" thought the eldest, \"I shall soon have\nan opportunity to pluck one of them;\" and so it happened, for not long\nafter the young man left the room. She instantly went up to the bird and\ntook hold of its wing, but as she did so, the finger and thumb remained\nand stuck fast. In a short time after the second sister came in with the\nfull expectation of gaining a golden feather, but as she touched her\nsister to move her from the bird, her hand stuck fast to her sister's\ndress, and neither of them could free herself. At last, in came the\nthird sister with the same intention. \"Keep away, keep away!\" screamed\nthe other two; \"in heaven's name keep away!\"\n\nBut she could not imagine why she should keep away. If they were near\nthe golden bird, why should not she be there? So she made a spring\nforward and touched her second sister, and immediately she also was made\na prisoner, and in this position they were obliged to remain by the\ngoose all night.\n\nIn the morning the young man came in, took the goose on his arm, and\nwent away without troubling himself about the three girls, who were\nfollowing close behind him. And as he walked quickly, they were obliged\nto run one behind the other, left or right of him, just as he was\ninclined to go.\n\nIn the middle of a field they were met by the parson of the parish, who\nlooked with wonder at the procession as it came near him. \"Shame on\nyou!\" he cried out. \"What are you about, you bold-faced hussies, running\nafter a young man in that way through the fields? Go home, all of you.\"\n\nHe placed his hand on the youngest to pull her back, but the moment he\ntouched her he also became fixed, and was obliged to follow and run like\nthe rest. In a few minutes the clerk met them, and when he saw the\nparson runing after the girls, he wondered greatly, and cried out,\n\"Halloa, master parson, where are you running in such haste? Have you\nforgotten that there is a christening to-day?\" And as the procession did\nnot stop, he ran after it, and seized the parson's gown.\n\nIn a moment he found that his hand was fixed, and he also had to run\nlike the rest. And now there were five trotting along, one behind the\nother. Presently two peasants came by with their sickles from the field.\nThe parson called out to them, and begged them to come and release him\nand the clerk. Hardly had they touched the clerk when they also stuck\nfast as the others, and the simpleton with his golden goose travelled\nwith the seven.\n\nAfter awhile they came to a city in which reigned a king who had a\ndaughter of such a melancholy disposition that no one could make her\nlaugh; therefore he issued a decree that whoever would make the princess\nlaugh should have her in marriage.\n\nNow, when the simple youth heard this, he ran before her, and the whole\nseven trotted after him. The sight was so ridiculous that the moment the\nprincess saw it she burst into a violent fit of laughter and they\nthought she would never leave off.\n\nAfter this, the youth went to the king, and demanded his daughter in\nmarriage, according to the king's decree; but his majesty did not quite\nlike to have the young man for a son-in-law, so he said that, before he\ncould consent to the marriage, the youth must bring him a man who could\ndrink all the wine in the king's cellar.\n\nThe simpleton went into the forest, for he thought, \"If anyone can help\nme, it is the little gray man.\" When he arrived at the spot where he had\ncut down the tree, there stood a man with a very miserable face.\n\nThe youth asked him why he looked so sorrowful.\n\n\"Oh,\" he exclaimed, \"I suffer such dreadful thirst that nothing seems\nable to quench it; and cold water I cannot endure. I have emptied a cask\nof wine already, but it was just like a drop of water on a hot stone.\"\n\n\"I can help you,\" cried the young man; \"come with me, and you shall have\nyour fill, I promise you.\"\n\nUpon this he led the man into the king's cellar, where he opened the\ncasks one after another, and drank and drank till his back ached; and\nbefore the day closed he had quite emptied the king's cellar.\n\nAgain the young man asked for his bride, but the king was annoyed at the\nthought of giving his daughter to such a common fellow, and to get rid\nof him he made another condition. He said that no man should have his\ndaughter who could not find someone able to eat up a whole mountain of\nbread.\n\nAway went the simpleton to the forest as before, and there in the same\nplace sat a man binding himself round tightly with a belt, and making\nthe most horrible faces. As the youth approached, he cried, \"I have\neaten a whole ovenful of rolls, but it has not satisfied me a bit; I am\nas hungry as ever, and my stomach feels so empty that I am obliged to\nbind it round tightly, or I should die of hunger.\"\n\nThe simpleton could hardly contain himself for joy when he heard this.\n\"Get up,\" he exclaimed, \"and come with me, and I will give you plenty to\neat, I'll warrant.\"\n\nSo he led him to the king's court, where his majesty had ordered all the\nflour in the kingdom to be made into bread, and piled up in a huge\nmountain. The hungry man placed himself before the bread, and began to\neat, and before evening the whole pile had disappeared.\n\nThen the simpleton went a third time to the king, and asked for his\nbride, but the king made several excuses, and at last said that if he\ncould bring him a ship that would travel as well by land as by water,\nthen he should, without any further conditions, marry his daughter.\n\nThe youth went at once straight to the forest, and saw the same old gray\nman to whom he had given his cake. \"Ah,\" he said, as the youth\napproached, \"it was I who sent the men to eat and drink, and I will also\ngive you a ship that can travel by land or by sea, because when you\nthought I was poor you were kind-hearted, and gave me food and drink.\"\n\nThe youth took the ship, and when the king saw it he was quite\nsurprised; but he could not any longer refuse to give him his daughter\nin marriage. The wedding was celebrated with great pomp, and after the\nking's death the simple wood-cutter inherited the whole kingdom, and\nlived happily with his wife.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nTHE TWELVE BROTHERS\n\n\nThere were once a king and queen who had twelve children--all boys. Now,\none day the king told his wife that if a daughter should be born, all\nthe sons must die--that their sister alone might inherit his kingdom and\nriches.\n\nSo the king had twelve coffins made, which were filled with shavings,\nand in each was the little pillow for the dead. He had them locked up in\na private room, the key of which he gave to the queen, praying her not\nto speak of it to anyone. But the poor mother was so unhappy that she\nwept for a whole day, and looked so sad that her youngest son noticed\nit.\n\nHe had the Bible name of Benjamin, and was always with his mother.\n\n\"Dear mother,\" he said, \"why are you so sorrowful?\"\n\n\"My child, I may not tell you,\" she replied; but the boy allowed her no\nrest till she unlocked the door of the private room, and showed him the\ntwelve coffins filled with shavings.\n\n\"Dearest Benjamin,\" she said, \"these coffins are for you and your\nbrothers; for if you should ever have a little sister, you will all die,\nand be buried in them.\"\n\nShe wept bitterly as she told him, but her son comforted her, and said,\n\"Do not weep, dear mother. We will take care of ourselves, and go far\naway.\"\n\nThen she took courage, and said, \"Yes, go away with your eleven\nbrothers, and remain in the forest; and let one climb a tree, from\nwhence he will be able to see the tower of the castle; If I should have\na son, a white flag shall be hoisted, and then you may return home; but\nif you see a red flag, you will know it is a girl, and then hasten away\nas fast as you can, and may Heaven protect you! Every night I will pray\nfor you, that you may not suffer from the cold in winter or the heat in\nsummer.\"\n\nThen she blessed all her sons, and they went away into the forest, while\neach in turn mounted a high tree daily, to watch for the flag on the\ntower.\n\nEleven days passed, and it was Benjamin's turn to watch. He saw the flag\nhoisted, and it was red--the signal that they must die. The brothers\nwere angry, and said, \"Shall we suffer death on account of a maiden?\nWhen we find one we will kill her, to avenge ourselves.\"\n\nThey went still farther into the forest, and came upon a most pleasant\nlittle cottage, which was uninhabited. \"We will make this our home,\"\nthey said; \"and Benjamin, as you are the youngest and weakest, you shall\nstay at home and keep house, while we go out and procure food.\"\n\nSo they wandered about the forest, shooting hares, wild rabbits, pigeons\nand other birds, which they brought to Benjamin to prepare for food. In\nthis cottage they lived for ten years happily together, so that the time\npassed quickly.\n\nTheir little sister was growing a great girl. She had a sweet\ndisposition, and was very beautiful to look upon. She wore rich clothes,\nand a golden star on her forehead.\n\nOne day, when she was about ten years old, she discovered in her\nmother's wardrobe twelve shirts. \"Mother,\" she exclaimed, \"whose shirts\nare these? They are much too small for my father.\"\n\nThe queen sighed as she replied, \"Dear child, these shirts belong to\nyour twelve brothers.\"\n\n\"Twelve brothers!\" cried the little maiden. \"Where are they? I have not\neven heard of them.\"\n\n\"Heaven knows where they are,\" was the reply; \"but they are wandering\nabout the world somewhere.\" Then the queen took her little daughter to\nthe private room in the castle, and showed her the twelve coffins which\nhad been prepared for her brothers, and related to her, with many tears,\nwhy they had left home.\n\n\"Dear mother,\" said the child, \"do not weep. I will go and seek my\nbrothers.\" So she took the twelve shirts with her, and wandered away\ninto the forest.\n\nShe walked for a whole day, and in the evening came to a cottage,\nstepped in, and found a young boy, who stared with astonishment at\nseeing a beautiful little girl dressed in rich clothing and wearing a\ngolden star on her forehead.\n\nAt last he said, \"Who are you, and what do you want?\"\n\n\"I am a king's daughter,\" she said, \"and I seek my twelve brothers, and\nI intend to search for them till I find them;\" and she showed him their\nshirts.\n\nThen Benjamin knew that she was his sister, and said, \"I am your\nyoungest brother, Benjamin.\" Then she wept for joy. They kissed each\nother with deep affection, and were for a time very happy.\n\nAt last Benjamin said, \"Dear sister, we have made a vow that the first\nyoung maiden we meet should die, because through a maiden we have lost\nour kingly rights.\"\n\n\"I would willingly die,\" she said, \"if by so doing I could restore my\nbrothers to their rightful possessions.\"\n\n\"No, you shall not die,\" he replied. \"Hide yourself behind this tub\nuntil our eleven brothers come home; then I will make an agreement with\nthem.\"\n\nAt night the brothers returned from hunting, and the supper was ready.\nWhile they sat at table, one of them said, \"Well, Benjamin, have you any\nnews?\"\n\n\"Perhaps I have,\" he said, \"although it seems strange that I, who stay\nat home, should know more than you, who have been out.\"\n\n\"Well, tell us your news,\" said one. So he said:\n\n\"I will tell you if you will make one promise.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes!\" they all cried. \"What is it?\"\n\n\"Well, then, promise me that the first maiden you meet with in the\nforest shall _not_ die.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes!\" said they all; \"she shall have mercy, but tell us.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said the youngest brother, \"our sister is here;\" and, rising, he\nlifted the tub, and the king's daughter came forth in her royal robes\nand with a golden star on her forehead, and looking so fair and delicate\nand beautiful that the brothers were full of joy, and kissed and\nembraced her with the fondest affection.\n\nShe stayed with Benjamin, and helped him in keeping the house clean and\ncooking the game which the others brought home. Everything was so nicely\nmanaged now and with so much order, the curtains and the quilts were\nbeautifully white, and the dinners cooked so well that the brothers were\nalways contented, and lived in great unity with their little sister.\n\nThere was a pretty garden around the house in which they lived, and one\nday, when they were all at home dining together, and enjoying\nthemselves, the maiden went out into the garden to gather them some\nflowers.\n\nShe had tended twelve lilies with great care, and they were now in such\nsplendid bloom that she determined to pluck them for her brothers, to\nplease them.\n\nBut the moment she gathered the lilies, her twelve brothers were changed\ninto twelve ravens, and flew away over the trees of the forest, while\nthe charming house and garden vanished from her sight. Now was the poor\nlittle maiden left all alone in the wild wood, and knew not what to do;\nbut on turning round she saw a curious old woman standing near, who said\nto her, \"My child, what hast thou done? Why didst thou not leave those\nwhite flowers to grow on their stems? They were thy twelve brothers, and\nnow they will always remain ravens.\"\n\n\"Is there no way to set them free?\" asked the maiden, weeping.\n\n\"No way in the world,\" she replied, \"but one, and that is far too\ndifficult for thee to perform; yet it would break the spell and set them\nfree. Hast thou firmness enough to remain dumb seven years, and not\nspeak to anyone, or even laugh? for if ever you utter a single word, or\nfail only once in the seven years, all you have done before will be\nvain, and at this one word your brothers will die.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said the maiden, \"I can do this to set my brothers free.\"\n\nThen the maiden climbed into a tree, and, seating herself in the\nbranches, began to knit.\n\nShe remained here, living on the fruit that grew on the tree, and\nwithout laughing or uttering a word.\n\nAs she sat in her tree, the king, who was hunting, had a favourite\nhound, who very soon discovered her, ran to the tree on which the maiden\nsat, sprang up to it, and barked at her violently.\n\nThe king came nearer, and saw the beautiful king's daughter with the\ngolden star on her forehead. He was so struck with her beauty that he\nbegged her to come down, and asked her to be his bride. She did not\nspeak a word, but merely nodded her head. Then the king himself climbed\nup into the tree, and bringing her down, seated her on his own horse and\ngalloped away with her to his home.\n\nThe marriage was soon after celebrated with great pomp, but the bride\nneither spoke nor laughed.\n\nWhen they had lived happily together for some years, the king's mother,\na wicked woman, began to raise evil reports about the queen, and said to\nthe king, \"It is some beggar girl you have picked up. Who can tell what\nwicked tricks she practises. She can't help being dumb, but why does she\nnever laugh? unless she has a guilty conscience.\" The king at first\nwould listen to none of these suspicions, but she urged him so long, and\naccused the queen of such wicked conduct, that at last he condemned her\nto be burnt to death.\n\nNow in the court-yard a great fire was kindled, and the king stood\nweeping at a window overlooking the court of the palace, for he still\nloved her dearly. He saw her brought forth and tied to the stake; the\nfire kindled, and the flames with their forked tongues were creeping\ntowards her, when at the last moment the seven years were past, and\nsuddenly a rustling noise of wings was heard in the air; twelve black\nravens alighted on the earth and instantly assumed their own forms--they\nwere the brothers of the queen.\n\nThey tore down the pile and extinguished the fire, set their sister\nfree, and embraced her tenderly. The queen, who was now able to speak,\ntold the king why she had been dumb and had never laughed.\n\nThe delight of the king was only equalled by his anger against the\nwicked witch, who was brought to justice and ordered to be thrown into a\nvat of oil full of poisonous snakes, where she died a dreadful death.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nTHE FAIR ONE WITH THE GOLDEN LOCKS\n\n\nThere was once a most beautiful and amiable princess who was called \"The\nFair One with Locks of Gold,\" for her hair shone brighter than gold, and\nflowed in curls down to her feet, her head was always encircled by a\nwreath of beautiful flowers, and pearls and diamonds.\n\nA handsome, rich, young prince, whose territories joined to hers, was\ndeeply in love with the reports he heard of her, and sent to demand her\nin marriage. The ambassador sent with proposals was most sumptuously\nattired, and surrounded by lackeys on beautiful horses, as well as\ncharged with every kind of compliment, from the anxious prince, who\nhoped he would bring the princess back with him; but whether it was that\nshe was not that day in a good humour, or that she did not like the\nspeeches made by the ambassador, I don't know, but she returned thanks\nto his master for the honour he intended her, and said she had no\ninclination to marry. When the ambassador arrived at the king's chief\ncity, where he was expected with great impatience, the people were\nextremely afflicted to see him return without the Fair One with the\nLocks of Gold; and the king wept like a child. There was a youth at\ncourt whose beauty outshone the sun, the gracefulness of whose person\nwas not to be equalled, and for his gracefulness and wit, he was called\nAvenant: the king loved him, and indeed every body except the envious.\nAvenant being one day in company with some persons, inconsiderately\nsaid, \"If the king had sent me to the Fair One with Locks of Gold, I\ndare say I could have prevailed on her to return with me.\" These enviers\nof Avenant's prosperity immediately ran open mouthed to the king,\nsaying, \"Sir sir, what does your majesty think Avenant says? He boasts\nthat if you had sent him to the Fair One with the Golden Hair, he could\nhave brought her with him; which shows he is so vain as to think himself\nhandsomer than your majesty and that her love for him would have made\nher follow him wherever he went.\" This put the king into a violent rage.\n\"What!\" said he, \"does this youngster make a jest at my misfortune, and\npretend to set himself above me? Go and put him immediately in my great\ntower, and there let him starve to death.\" The king's guards went and\nseized Avenant who thought no more of what he had said, dragged him to\nprison, and used him in the most cruel manner.\n\nOne day when he was almost quite spent, he said to himself, fetching a\ndeep sigh, \"Wherein can I have offended the king? He has not a more\nfaithful subject than myself; nor have I ever done any thing to\ndisplease him.\" The king happened at that time to pass by the tower; and\nstopped to hear him, notwithstanding the persuasions of those that were\nwith him; \"Hold your peace,\" replied the king, \"and let me hear him\nout.\" Which having done, and being greatly moved by his sufferings, he\nopened the door of the tower, and called him by his name. Upon which\nAvenant came forth in a sad condition, and, throwing himself at the\nking's feet, \"What have I done, sir,\" said he, \"that your majesty should\nuse me thus severely?\" \"Thou hast ridiculed me and my ambassador,\"\nreplied the king; \"and hast said, that if I had sent thee to the Fair\nOne with Locks of Gold, thou couldst have brought her with thee.\" \"It is\ntrue, sir,\" replied Avenant, \"for I would have so thoroughly convinced\nher of your transcending qualities, that it should not have been in her\npower to have denied me; and this, surely, I said in the name of your\nmajesty.\" The king found in reality he had done no injury; so, he took\nhim away with him, repenting heartily of the wrong he had done him.\nAfter having given him an excellent supper, the king sent for him into\nhis cabinet. \"Avenant,\" said he, \"I still love the Fair One with Locks\nof Gold; I have a mind to send thee to her, to try whether thou canst\nsucceed,\" Avenant replied, he was ready to obey his majesty in all\nthings, and would depart the very next morning. \"Hold,\" said the king,\n\"I will provide thee first with a most sumptuous equipage.\" \"There is no\nnecessity for that,\" answered Avenant; \"I need only a good horse and\nyour letters of credence.\" Upon this the king embraced him; being\noverjoyed to see him so soon ready.\n\nIt was upon a Monday morning that he took leave of the king and his\nfriends. Being on his journey by break of day, and entering into a\nspacious meadow, a fine thought came into his head; he alighted\nimmediately, and seated himself by the bank of a little stream that\nwatered one side of the meadow, and wrote the sentiment down in his\npocket book. After he had done writing, he looked about him every way,\nbeing charmed with the beauties of the place, and suddenly perceived a\nlarge gilded carp, which stirred a little, and that was all it could do,\nfor having attempted to catch some little flies, it had leaped so far\nout of the water, as to throw itself upon the grass, where it was almost\ndead, not being able to recover its natural element. Avenant took pity\non the poor creature, and though it was a fish-day, and he might have\ncarried it away for his dinner, he took it up, and gently put it again\ninto the river, where the carp, feeling the refreshing coolness of the\nwater, began to rejoice, and sunk to the bottom; but soon rising up\nagain, brisk and gay, to the side of the river; \"Avenant,\" said the\ncarp, \"I thank you for the kindness you have done me; had it not been\nfor you, I had died; but you have saved my life, and I will reward you.\"\nAfter this short compliment, the carp darted itself to the bottom of the\nwater, leaving Avenant not a little surprised at its wit and great\ncivility.\n\nAnother day, as he was pursuing his journey, he saw a crow in great\ndistress: being pursued by a huge eagle, he took his bow, which he\nalways carried abroad with him, and aiming at the eagle, let fly an\narrow, which pierced him through the body, so that he fell down dead;\nwhich the crow seeing, came in an ecstasy of joy, and perched upon a\ntree. \"Avenant,\" said the crow, \"you have been extremely generous to\nsuccour me, who am but a poor wretched crow; but I am not ungrateful and\nwill do you as good a turn.\" Avenant admired the wit of the crow, and\ncontinuing his journey, he entered into a wood so early one morning,\nthat he could scarcely see his way, where he heard an owl crying out\nlike an owl in despair. So looking about every where, he at length came\nto a place where certain fowlers had spread their nets in the night-time\nto catch little birds. \"What pity 'tis,\" said he, \"men are only made to\ntorment one another, or else to persecute poor animals who never do them\nany harm!\" So saying, he drew his knife, cut the cords, and set the owl\nat liberty; who, before he took wing, said, \"Avenant, the fowlers are\ncoming, I should have been taken, and must have died, without your\nassistance: I have a grateful heart, and will remember it.\"\n\nThese were the three most remarkable adventures that befell Avenant in\nhis journey; and when he arrived at the end of it, he washed himself,\ncombed and powdered his hair, and put on a suit of cloth of gold: which\nhaving done, he put a rich embroidered scarf about his neck, with a\nsmall basket, wherein was a little dog which he was very fond of. And\nAvenant was so amiable, and did every thing with so good a grace, that\nwhen he presented himself at the gate of the palace, all the guards paid\nhim great respect, and every one strove who should first give notice to\nthe Fair One with Locks of Gold, that Avenant, the neighbouring king's\nambassador, demanded audience. The princess on hearing the name of\nAvenant, said, \"It has a pleasing sound, and I dare say he is agreeable\nand pleases every body; and she said to her maids of honour, go fetch me\nmy rich embroidered gown of blue satin, dress my hair, and bring my\nwreaths of fresh flowers: let me have my high shoes, and my fan, and let\nmy audience chamber and throne be clean, and richly adorned; for I would\nhave him every where with truth say, that I am really the Fair One with\nLocks of Gold.\" Thus all her women were employed to dress her as a queen\nshould be. At length, she went to her great gallery of looking-glasses,\nto see if any thing was wanting; after which she ascended her throne of\ngold, ivory, and ebony, the fragrant smell of which was superior to the\nchoicest balm. She also commanded her maids of honour to take their\ninstruments, and play to their own singing so sweetly that none should\nbe disgusted.\n\nAvenant was conducted into the chamber of audience, were he stood so\ntransported with admiration, that, as he afterwards said, he had\nscarcely power to open his lips. At length, however, he took courage,\nand made his speech wonderfully well; wherein he prayed the princess not\nto let him be so unfortunate as to return without her. \"Gentle Avenant,\"\nsaid she, \"all the reasons you have laid before me, are very good, and I\nassure you, I would rather favour you than any other; but you must know,\nabout a month since, I went to take the air by the side of a river, with\nmy maids of honour; as I was pulling off my glove, I pulled a ring from\nmy finger, which by accident fell into the river. This ring I valued\nmore than my whole kingdom; whence you may judge how much I am afflicted\nby the loss of it. And I have made a vow never to hearken to any\nproposals of marriage, unless the ambassador who makes them shall also\nbring my ring. This is the present which you have to make me; otherwise\nyou may talk your heart out, for months and even years shall never\nchange my resolution.\" When he returned to his lodgings, he went to bed\nsupperless; and his little dog, who was called Cabriole, made a fasting\nnight of it too, and went and lay down by his master; who did nothing\nall night but sigh and lament, saying, \"How can I find a ring that fell\ninto a great river a month ago? It would be folly to attempt it. The\nprincess enjoined me this task, merely because she knew it was\nimpossible,\" he continued, greatly afflicted; which Cabriole observing,\nsaid, \"My dear master, pray do not despair of your good fortune; for you\nare too good to be unhappy. Therefore, when it is day, let us go to the\nriver side.\" Avenant made no answer, but gave his dog two little cuffs\nwith his hand, and being overwhelmed with grief, fell asleep.\n\nBut when Cabriole perceived it was broad day, he fell a barking so loud\nthat he waked his master. \"Rise, sir,\" said he, \"put on your clothes,\nand let us go and try our fortune.\" Avenant took his little dog's\nadvice; got up, and dressed himself, went down into the garden, and out\nof the garden he walked insensibly to the river side, with his hat over\nhis eyes, and his arms across, thinking of nothing but taking his leave;\nwhen all on a sudden he heard a voice call, \"Avenant, Avenant!\" upon\nwhich he looked around him, but seeing nothing, he concluded it was an\nillusion, and was proceeding in his walk; but he presently heard himself\ncalled again. \"Who calls me?\" said he; Cabriole, who was very little and\nlooked closely into the water, cried out, \"Never believe me, if it is\nnot a gilded carp.\" Immediately the carp appeared, and with an audible\nvoice said, \"Avenant, you saved my life in the poplar meadow, where I\nmust have died without your assistance; and now I am come to requite\nyour kindness. Here, my dear Avenant, here is the ring which the Fair\nOne with Locks of Gold dropped into the river.\" Upon which he stooped\nand took it out of the carp's mouth; to whom he returned a thousand\nthanks. And now, instead of returning home, he went directly to the\npalace with little Cabriole, who skipped about, and wagged his tail for\njoy, that he had persuaded his master to walk by the side of the river.\nThe princess being told that Avenant desired an audience: \"Alas,\" said\nshe, \"the poor youth has come to take his leave of me! He has considered\nwhat I enjoined him as impossible, and is returning to his master.\" But\nAvenant being admitted, presented her the ring, saying, \"Madam, behold I\nhave executed your command; and now, I hope, you will receive my master\nfor your royal consort.\" When she saw her ring, and that it was noways\ninjured, she was so amazed that she could hardly believe her eyes.\n\"Surely, courteous Avenant,\" said she, \"you must be favoured by some\nfairy; for naturally this is impossible.\" \"Madam,\" said he, \"I am\nacquainted with no fairy; but I was willing to obey your command.\"\n\"Well, then, seeing you have so good a will,\" continued she, \"you must\ndo me another piece of service, without which I will never marry. There\nis a certain prince who lives not far from hence, whose name is\nGalifron, and whom nothing would serve but that he must needs marry me.\nHe declared his mind to me, with most terrible menaces, that if I denied\nhim, he would enter my kingdom with fire and sword; but you shall judge\nwhether I would accept his proposal: he is a giant, as high as a\nsteeple; he devours men as an ape eats chestnuts; when he goes into the\ncountry, he carries cannons in his pocket, to use instead of pistols;\nand when he speaks aloud he deafens the ears of those that stand near\nhim. I answered him, that I did not choose to marry, and desired him to\nexcuse me. Nevertheless, he has not ceased to persecute me, and has put\nan infinite number of my subjects to the sword: therefore, before all\nother things you must fight him, and bring me his head.\"\n\nAvenant was somewhat startled by this proposal; but, having considered\nit awhile, \"Well, madam,\" said he, \"I will fight this Galifron; I\nbelieve I shall be vanquished; but I will die like a man of courage.\"\nThe princess was astonished at his intrepidity, and said a thousand\nthings to dissuade him from it, but all in vain. At length he arrived at\nGalifron's castle, the roads all the way being strewed with the bones\nand carcasses of men which the giant had devoured, or cut in pieces. It\nwas not long before Avenant saw the monster approach, and he immediately\nchallenged him; but there was no occasion for this, for he lifted his\niron mace, and had certainly beat out the gentle Avenant's brains at the\nfirst blow, had not a crow at that instant perched upon the giant's\nhead, and with his bill pecked out both his eyes. The blood trickled\ndown his face, whereat he grew desperate, and laid about him on every\nside; but Avenant took care to avoid his blows, and gave him many great\nwounds with his sword, which he pushed up to the very hilt; so that the\ngiant fainted, and fell down with loss of blood. Avenant immediately cut\noff his head; and while he was in an ecstasy of joy, for his good\nsuccess, the crow perched upon a tree, and said, \"Avenant, I did not\nforget the kindnesses I received at your hands, when you killed the\neagle that pursued me; I promised to make you amends, and now I have\nbeen as good as my word.\" \"I acknowledge your kindness, Mr. Crow,\"\nreplied Avenant; \"I am still your debtor, and your servant.\" So saying,\nhe mounted his courser, and rode away with the giant's horrid head. When\nhe arrived at the city, every body crowded after him, crying out, \"Long\nlive the valiant Avenant, who has slain the cruel monster!\" so that the\nprincess, who heard the noise, and trembling for fear she should have\nheard of Avenant's death, durst not inquire what was the matter. But\npresently after, she saw Avenant enter with the giant's head; at the\nsight of which she trembled, though there was nothing to fear. \"Madam,\"\nsaid he, \"behold your enemy is dead; and now, I hope, you will no longer\nrefuse the king my master.\" \"Alas!\" replied the Fair One with Locks of\nGold, \"I must still refuse him, unless you can find means to bring me\nsome of the water of the gloomy cave. Not far from hence,\" continued\nshe, \"there is a very deep cave, about six leagues in compass; the\nentrance into which is guarded by two dragons. The dragons dart fire\nfrom their mouths and eyes; and when you have got into this cave, you\nwill meet with a very deep hole, into which you must go down, and you\nwill find it full of toads, adders and serpents. At the bottom of this\nhole there is a kind of cellar, through which runs the fountain of\nbeauty and health. This is the water I must have; its virtues are\nwonderful; for the fair, by washing in it, preserve their beauty; and\nthe deformed it renders beautiful; if they are young, it preserves them\nalways youthful; and if old it makes them young again. Now judge you,\nAvenant, whether I will ever leave my kingdom without carrying some of\nthis water along with me.\" \"Madam,\" said he, \"you are so beautiful, that\nthis water will be of no use to you; but I am an unfortunate ambassador,\nwhose death you seek. However, I will go in search of what you desire,\nthough I am certain never to return.\"\n\nAt length he arrived at the top of a mountain, where he sat down to rest\nhimself; giving his horse liberty to feed, and Cabriole to run after the\nflies. He knew that the gloomy cave was not far off, and looked about to\nsee whether he could discover it; and at length he perceived a horrid\nrock as black as ink, whence issued a thick smoke; and immediately after\nhe spied one of the dragons casting forth fire from his jaws and eyes;\nhis skin all over yellow and green, with prodigious claws and a long\ntail rolled up in an hundred folds. Avenant, with a resolution to die in\nthe attempt, drew his sword, and with the phial which the Fair One with\nLocks of Gold had given him to fill with the water of beauty, went\ntowards the cave, saying to his little dog, \"Cabriole, here is an end of\nme; I never shall be able to get this water, it is so well guarded by\nthe dragons; therefore when I am dead, fill this phial with my blood,\nand carry it to my princess, that she may see what her severity has cost\nme: then go to the king my master and give him an account of my\nmisfortunes.\" While he was saying this, he heard a voice call \"Avenant,\nAvenant!\" \"Who calls me?\" said he; and presently he espied an owl in the\nhole of an old hollow tree, who, calling him again, said, \"You rescued\nme from the fowler's net, where I had been assuredly taken, had you not\ndelivered me. I promised to make you amends, and now the time is come;\ngive me your phial; I am acquainted with all the secret inlets into the\ngloomy cave, and will go and fetch you the water of beauty.\" Avenant\nmost gladly gave the phial, and the owl, entering without any impediment\ninto the cave, filled it, and in less than a quarter of an hour returned\nwith it well stopped. Avenant was overjoyed at his good fortune, gave\nthe owl a thousand thanks, and returned with a merry heart to the city.\nBeing arrived at the palace, he presented the phial to the Fair One with\nLocks of Gold, who had then nothing further to say. She returned Avenant\nthanks, and gave orders for every thing that was requisite for her\ndeparture: after which she set forward with him. The Fair One with Locks\nof Gold thought Avenant very amiable, and said to him sometimes upon the\nroad, \"If you had been willing, I could have made you a king; and then\nwe need not have left my kingdom.\" But Avenant replied, \"I would not\nhave been guilty of such a piece of treachery to my master for all the\nkingdoms of the earth; though I must acknowledge your beauties are more\nresplendent than the sun.\"\n\nAt length they arrived at the king's chief city, who understanding that\nthe Fair One with Locks of Gold was arrived, he went forth to meet her,\nand made her the richest presents in the world. The nuptials were\nsolemnized with such demonstrations of joy, that nothing else was\ndiscoursed of. But the Fair One with Locks of Gold, who loved Avenant in\nher heart, was never pleased but when she was in his company, and would\nbe always speaking in his praise: \"I had never come hither,\" said she to\nthe king, \"had it not been for Avenant, who, to serve me, has conquered\nimpossibilities; you are infinitely obliged to him; he procured me the\nwater of beauty and health; by which I shall never grow old, and shall\nalways preserve my health and beauty.\" The enviers of Avenant's\nhappiness, who heard the queen's words, said to the king, \"Were your\nmajesty inclined to be jealous, you have reason enough to be so, for the\nqueen is desperately in love with Avenant.\" \"Indeed,\" said the king, \"I\nam sensible of the truth of what you tell me; let him be put in the\ngreat tower, with fetters upon his feet and hands.\" Avenant was\nimmediately seized. However, his little dog Cabriole never forsook him,\nbut cheered him the best he could, and brought him all the news of the\ncourt. When the Fair One with Locks of Gold was informed of his\nmisfortunes, she threw herself at the king's feet, and all in tears\nbesought him to release Avenant out of prison. But the more she besought\nhim the more he was incensed, believing it was her affection that made\nher so zealous a suppliant in his behalf. Finding she could not prevail,\nshe said no more to him, but grew very pensive and melancholy.\n\nThe king took it into his head that she did not think him handsome\nenough; so he resolved to wash his face with the water of beauty, in\nhopes that the queen would then conceive a greater affection for him\nthan she had. This water stood in a phial upon a table in the queen's\nchamber, where she had put it, that it might not be out of her sight.\nBut one of the chambermaids going to kill a spider with her besom, by\naccident threw down the phial, and broke it, so that the water was lost.\nShe dried it up with all the speed she could, and not knowing what to\ndo, she bethought herself that she had seen a phial of clear water in\nthe king's cabinet very like that she had broken. Without any more ado,\ntherefore, she went and fetched that phial, and set it upon the table in\nplace of the other. This water which was in the king's cabinet, was a\ncertain water which he made use of to poison the great lords and princes\nof his court when they were convicted of any great crime; to which\npurpose, instead of cutting off their heads, or hanging them, he caused\ntheir faces to be rubbed with this water, which cast them into so\nprofound a sleep that they never waked again. Now the king one evening\ntook this phial, and rubbed his face well with the water, after which he\nfell asleep and died. Cabriole was one of the first that came to a\nknowledge of this accident, and immediately ran to inform Avenant of it\nwho bid him go to the Fair One with Locks of Gold, and remind her of the\npoor prisoner. Cabriole slipped unperceived through the crowd, for there\nwas a great noise and hurry at court upon the king's death; and getting\nto the queen, \"Madam,\" said he, \"remember poor Avenant.\" She presently\ncalled to mind the afflictions he had suffered for her sake, and his\nfidelity. Without speaking a word, she went directly to the great tower,\nand took off the fetters from Avenant's feet and hands herself; after\nwhich, putting the crown upon his head, and the royal mantle about his\nshoulders, \"Amiable Avenant,\" said she, \"I will make you a sovereign\nprince, and take you for my consort.\" Avenant threw himself at her feet,\nand in terms the most passionate and respectful returned her thanks.\nEvery body was overjoyed to have him for their king: the nuptials were\nthe most splendid in the world; and the Fair One. with Locks of Gold\nlived a long time with her beloved Avenant, both happy and contented in\nthe enjoyment of each other.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nTOM THUMB\n\n\nIn the days of King Arthur, Merlin, the most learned enchanter of his\ntime, was on a journey; and, being very weary, stopped one day at the\ncottage of an honest ploughman to ask for refreshment. The ploughman's\nwife, with great civility, immediately brought him some milk in a wooden\nbowl, and some brown bread on a wooden platter. Merlin could not help\nobserving, that, although every thing within the cottage was\nparticularly neat and clean, and in good order, the ploughman and his\nwife had the most sorrowful air imaginable. So he questioned them on the\ncause of their melancholy, and learned that they were very miserable\nbecause they had no children. The poor woman declared, with tears in her\neyes, that she should be the happiest creature in the world if she had a\nson, although he were no bigger than his father's thumb. Merlin was much\namused with the thoughts of a boy no bigger than a man's thumb, and, as\nsoon as he returned home, he sent for the queen of the fairies (with\nwhom he was very intimate), and related to her the desire of the\nploughman and his wife to have a son the size of his father's thumb. The\nqueen of the fairies liked the plan exceedingly, and declared their wish\nshould speedily be granted. Accordingly the ploughman's wife had a son,\nwho in a few minutes grew as tall as his father's thumb. The queen of\nthe fairies came in at the window as the mother was sitting up in bed\nadmiring the child. The queen kissed the infant, and giving it the name\nof Tom Thumb, immediately summoned several fairies from Fairy Land to\nclothe her little new favourite:\n\n  \"An oak leaf hat he had for his crown,\n   His shirt it was by spiders spun;\n   With doublet wove of thistle's down,\n   His trousers up with points were done.\n   His stockings, of apple rind, they tie\n   With eye-lash plucked from his mother's eye,\n   His shoes were made of a mouse's skin,\n   Nicely tanned, with the hair within.\"\n\nTom never was any bigger than his father's thumb, which was not a large\nthumb either; but, as he grew older, he became very cunning and sly, for\nwhich his mother did not sufficiently correct him, so that when he was\nable to play with the boys for cherry stones, and had lost all his own,\nhe used to creep into the boys' bags, fill his pockets, and come out\nagain to play. But one day as he was getting out of a bag of cherry\nstones, the boy to whom it belonged chanced to see him. \"Ah ha, my\nlittle Tom Thumb!\" said the boy, \"have I caught you at your bad tricks\nat last? Now I will reward you for thieving.\" Then drawing the string\ntight round his neck, and shaking the bag heartily, the cherry stones\nbruised Tom's legs, thighs, and body sadly; which made him beg to be let\nout, and promise never to be guilty of such things any more. Shortly\nafterwards, Tom's mother was making a batter pudding, and, that he might\nsee how she mixed it, he climbed on the edge of the bowl; but his foot\nhappening to slip, he fell over head and ears into the batter, and his\nmother not observing him, stirred him into the pudding, and popped him\ninto the pot to boil. The hot water made Tom kick and struggle; and his\nmother, seeing the pudding jump up and down in such a furious manner,\nthought it was bewitched; and a tinker coming by just at the time, she\nquickly gave him the pudding, who put it into his budget and walked on.\n\nAs soon as Tom could get the batter out of his mouth, he began to cry\naloud; which so frightened the poor tinker, that he flung the pudding\nover the hedge, and ran away from it as fast as he could run. The\npudding being broken to pieces by the fall, Tom was released, and walked\nhome to his mother, who gave him a kiss and put him to bed. Tom Thumb's\nmother once took him with her when she went to milk the cow; and it\nbeing a very windy day, she tied him with a needleful of thread to a\nthistle, that he might not be blown away. The cow liking his oak leaf\nhat took him and the thistle up at one mouthful. While the cow chewed\nthe thistle, Tom, terrified at her great teeth, which seemed ready to\ncrush him to pieces, roared, \"Mother, Mother!\" as loud as he could bawl.\n\"Where are you, Tommy, my dear Tommy?\" said the mother. \"Here, mother,\nhere in the red cow's mouth.\" The mother began to cry and wring her\nhands; but the cow surprised at such odd noises in her throat, opened\nher mouth and let him drop out. His mother clapped him into her apron,\nand ran home with him. Tom's father made him a whip of a barley straw to\ndrive the cattle with, and being one day in the field, he slipped into a\ndeep furrow. A raven flying over, picked him up with a grain of corn,\nand flew with him to the top of a giant's castle, by the seaside, where\nhe left him; and old Grumbo the giant, coming soon after to walk upon\nhis terrace, swallowed Tom like a pill, clothes and all. Tom presently\nmade the giant very uncomfortable, and he threw him up into the sea. A\ngreat fish then swallowed him. The fish was soon after caught, and sent\nas a present to King Arthur. When it was cut open, every body was\ndelighted with little Tom Thumb. The king made him his dwarf; he was the\nfavourite of the whole court; and, by his merry pranks, often amused the\nqueen and the knights of the Round Table. The king, when he rode on\nhorseback, frequently took Tom in his hand; and, if a shower of rain\ncame on, he used to creep into the king's waist-coat pocket, and sleep\ntill the rain was over. The king also, sometimes questioned Tom\nconcerning his parents; and when Tom informed his majesty they were very\npoor people, the king led him into his treasury, and told him he should\npay his friends a visit, and take with him as much money as he could\ncarry. Tom procured a little purse, and putting a threepenny piece into\nit, with much labour and difficulty got it upon his back; and, after\ntravelling two days and nights, arrived at his father's house.\n\nHis mother met him at the door, almost tired to death, having in\nforty-eight hours travelled almost half a mile with a huge silver\nthreepence upon his back. His parents were glad to see him, especially\nwhen he had brought such an amazing sum of money with him. They placed\nhim in a walnut shell by the fire side, and feasted him for three days\nupon a hazel nut, which made him sick, for a whole nut usually served\nhim a month. Tom got well, but could not travel because it had rained;\ntherefore his mother took him in her hand, and with one puff blew him\ninto King Arthur's court; where Tom entertained the king, queen, and\nnobility at tilts and tournaments, at which he exerted himself so much\nthat he brought on a fit of sickness, and his life was despaired of. At\nthis juncture the queen of the fairies came in a chariot drawn by flying\nmice, placed Tom by her side, and drove through the air, without\nstopping till they arrived at her palace; when, after restoring him to\nhealth, and permitting him to enjoy all the gay diversions of Fairy\nLand, the queen commanded a fair wind, and, placing Tom before it, blew\nhim straight to the court of King Arthur. But just as Tom should have\nalighted in the court-yard of the palace, the cook happened to pass along\nwith the king's great bowl of firmity (King Arthur loved firmity), and\npoor Tom Thumb fell plump into the middle of it and splashed the hot\nfirmity into the cook's eyes. Down went the bowl. \"Oh dear; oh dear!\"\ncried Tom; \"Murder! murder!\" bellowed the cook! and away ran the king's\nnice firmity into the kennel. The cook was a red-faced, cross fellow,\nand swore to the king, that Tom had done it out of mere mischief; so he\nwas taken up, tried, and sentenced to be beheaded. Tom hearing this\ndreadful sentence, and seeing a miller stand by with his mouth wide\nopen, he took a good spring, and jumped down the miller's throat,\nunperceived by all, even by the miller himself.\n\nTom being lost, the court broke up, and away went the miller to his\nmill. But Tom did not leave him long at rest, he began to roll and\ntumble about, so that the miller thought himself bewitched, and sent for\na doctor. When the doctor came, Tom began to dance and sing; the doctor\nwas as much frightened as the miller, and sent in great haste for five\nmore doctors, and twenty learned men. While all these were debating upon\nthe affair, the miller (for they were very tedious) happened to yawn,\nand Tom, taking the opportunity, made another jump, and alighted on his\nfeet in the middle of the table. The miller, provoked to be thus\ntormented by such a little creature, fell into a great passion, caught\nhold of Tom, and threw him out of the window, into the river. A large\nsalmon swimming by, snapped him up in a minute. The salmon was soon\ncaught and sold in the market to the steward of a lord. The lord,\nthinking it an uncommon fine fish, made a present of it to the king, who\nordered it to be dressed immediately. When the cook cut open the salmon,\nhe found poor Tom, and ran with him directly to the king; but the king\nbeing busy with state affairs, desired that he might be brought another\nday. The cook resolving to keep him safely this time, as he had so\nlately given him the slip, clapped him into a mouse-trap, and left him\nto amuse himself by peeping through the wires for a whole week; when the\nking sent for him, he forgave him for throwing down the firmity, ordered\nhim new clothes and knighted him.\n\n  \"His shirt was made of butterflies' wings;\n   His boots were made of chicken skins;\n   His coat and breeches were made with pride;\n   A tailor's needle hung by his side;\n   A mouse for a horse he used to ride.\"\n\nThus dressed and mounted, he rode a hunting with the king and nobility,\nwho all laughed heartily at Tom and his fine prancing steed. As they\nrode by a farm house one day, a cat jumped from behind the door, seized\nthe mouse and little Tom, and began to devour the mouse. However, Tom\nboldly drew his sword and attacked the cat, who then let him fall. The\nking and his nobles seeing Tom falling, went to his assistance, and one\nof the lords caught him in his hat; but poor Tom was sadly scratched,\nand his clothes were torn by the claws of the cat. In this condition he\nwas carried home, when a bed of down was made for him in a little ivory\ncabinet. The queen of the fairies came, and took him again to Fairy\nLand, where she kept him for some years; and then, dressing him in\nbright green, sent him flying once more through the air to the earth, in\nthe days of King Thunstone. The people flocked far and near to look at\nhim; and the king, before whom he was carried, asked him who he was,\nwhence he came, and where he lived? Tom answered:\n\n  \"My name is Tom Thumb,\n   From the Fairies I come;\n   When King Arthur shone,\n   This court was my home.\n   In me he delighted,\n   By him I was knighted,\n   Did you never hear of\n   Sir Thomas Thumb?\"\n\nThe king was so charmed with this address, that he ordered a little\nchair to be made, in order that Tom might sit on his table, and also a\npalace of gold a span high, with a door an inch wide, for little Tom to\nlive in. He also gave him a coach drawn by six small mice. This made the\nqueen angry, because she had not a new coach too. Therefore, resolving\nto ruin Tom, she complained to the king that he had behaved very\ninsolently to her. The king sent for him in a rage. Tom, to escape his\nfury, crept into an empty snail-shell, and there lay till he was almost\nstarved; when peeping out of the shell, he saw a fine butterfly settled\non the ground. He now ventured out, and getting astride, the butterfly\ntook wing, and mounted into the air with little Tom on his back. Away he\nflew from field to field, from tree to tree, till at last he flew to the\nking's court. The king, queen, and nobles, all strove to catch the\nbutterfly, but could not. At length poor Tom, having neither bridle nor\nsaddle, slipped from his seat, and fell into a white pot, where he was\nfound almost drowned. The queen vowed he should be guillotined: but\nwhile the guillotine was getting ready, he was secured once more in a\nmouse-trap; when the cat seeing something stir, and supposing it to be\nthe mouse, patted the trap about till she broke it, and set Tom at\nliberty. Soon afterwards a spider, taking him for a fly, made at him.\nTom drew his sword and fought valiantly, but the spider's poisonous\nbreath overcame him:\n\n  \"He fell dead on the ground where late he had stood,\n   And the spider sucked up the last drop of his blood.\"\n\nKing Thunstone and his whole court went into mourning for little Tom\nThumb. They buried him under a rosebush, and raised a nice white marble\nmonument over his grave, with the following epitaph:\n\n  \"Here lies Tom Thumb, King Arthur's knight,\n   Who died by spider's cruel bite.\n   He was well known in Arthur's court,\n   Where he afforded gallant sport;\n   He rode at tilt and tournament,\n   And on a mouse a hunting went;\n   Alive he filled the court with mirth,\n   His death to sorrow soon gave birth.\n   Wipe, wipe your eyes, and shake your head\n   And cry, 'Alas! Tom Thumb is dead.'\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII\n\nBLUE BEARD\n\n\nThere was, some time ago, a gentleman who was very rich. He had fine\ntown and country houses, his dishes and plates were all of gold or\nsilver, his rooms were hung with damask, his chairs and sofas were\ncovered with the richest silks, and his carriages were all gilt with\ngold in a grand style. But it happened that this gentleman had a blue\nbeard, which made him so very frightful and ugly, that none of the\nladies, in the parts where he lived, would venture to go into his\ncompany. Now there was a certain lady of rank, who lived very near him,\nand had two daughters, both of them of very great beauty. Blue Beard\nasked her to bestow one of them upon him for a wife, and left it to\nherself to choose which of the two it should be. But both the young\nladies again and again said they would never marry Blue Beard; yet, to\nbe as civil as they could, each of them said, the only reason why she\nwould not have him was, because she was loath to hinder her sister from\nthe match, which would be such a good one for her. Still the truth of\nthe matter was, they could neither of them bear the thoughts of having a\nhusband with a blue beard; and besides, they had heard of his having\nbeen married to several wives before, and nobody could tell what had\never become of any of them. As Blue Beard wished very much to gain their\nfavour, he asked the lady and her daughters, and some ladies who were on\na visit at their house, to go with him to one of his country seats,\nwhere they spent a whole week, during which they passed all their time\nin nothing but parties for hunting and fishing, music, dancing, and\nfeasts. No one even thought of going to bed, and the nights were passed\nin merry-makings of all kinds. In short, the time rolled on in so much\npleasure, that the youngest of the two sisters began to think that the\nbeard which she had been so much afraid of, was not so very blue, and\nthat the gentleman who owned it was vastly civil and pleasing. Soon\nafter their return home, she told her mother that she had no longer any\ndislike to accept of Blue Beard for her husband; and in a very short\ntime they were married.\n\nAbout a month after the marriage had taken place, Blue Beard told his\nwife that he should be forced to leave her for a few weeks, as he had\nsome affairs to attend to in the country. He desired her to be sure to\nindulge herself in every kind of pleasure, to invite as many of her\nfriends as she liked, and to treat them with all sorts of dainties, that\nher time might pass pleasantly till he came back again. \"Here,\" said he,\n\"are the keys of the two large wardrobes. This is the key of the great\nbox that contains the best plate, which we use for company, this belongs\nto my strong box, where I keep my money, and this belongs to the casket,\nin which are all my jewels. Here also is a master-key to all the rooms\nin the house; but this small key belongs to the closet at the end of the\nlong gallery on the ground floor. I give you leave,\" said he, \"to open,\nor to do what you like with all the rest except this closet. This, my\ndear, you must not enter, nor even put the key into the lock, for all\nthe world. If you do not obey me in this one thing, you must expect the\nmost dreadful punishments.\" She promised to obey his orders in the most\nfaithful manner; and Blue Beard, after kissing her tenderly, stepped\ninto his coach, and drove away.\n\nWhen Blue Beard was gone, the friends of his wife did not wait to be\nasked, so eager were they to see all the riches and fine things she had\ngained by marriage; for they had none of them gone to the wedding, on\naccount of their dislike to the blue beard of the bridegroom. As soon as\never they came to the house, they ran about from room to room, from\ncloset to closet, and then from wardrobe to wardrobe, looking into each\nwith wonder and delight, and said, that every fresh one they came to,\nwas richer and finer than what they had seen the moment before. At last\nthey came to the drawing-rooms, where their surprise was made still\ngreater by the costly grandeur of the hangings, the sofas, the chairs,\ncarpets, tables, sideboards, and looking-glasses; the frames of these\nlast were silver-gilt, most richly adorned, and in the glasses they saw\nthemselves from head to foot. In short, nothing could exceed the\nrichness of what they saw; and they all did not fail to admire and envy\nthe good fortune of their friend. But all this time the bride herself\nwas far from thinking about the fine speeches they made to her, for she\nwas eager to see what was in the closet her husband had told her not to\nopen. So great, indeed, was her desire to do this, that, without once\nthinking how rude it would be to leave her guests, she slipped away down\na private staircase that led to this forbidden closet, and in such a\nhurry, that she was two or three times in danger of falling down stairs\nand breaking her neck.\n\nWhen she reached the door of the closet, she stopped for a few moments\nto think of the order her husband had given her, and how he had told her\nthat he would not fail to keep his word and punish her very severely, if\nshe did not obey him. But she was so very curious to know what was\ninside, that she made up her mind to venture in spite of every thing.\nShe then, with a trembling hand, put the key into the lock, and the door\nstraight flew open. As the window shutters were closed, she at first\ncould see nothing; but in a short time she saw that the floor was\ncovered with clotted blood, on which the bodies of several dead women\nwere lying.\n\nThese were all the wives whom Blue Beard had married, and killed one\nafter another. At this sight she was ready to sink with fear, and the\nkey of the closet door, which she held in her hand, fell on the floor.\nWhen she had a little got the better of her fright, she took it up,\nlocked the door, and made haste back to her own room, that she might\nhave a little time to get into a humour to amuse her company; but this\nshe could not do, so great was her fright at what she had seen. As she\nfound that the key of the closet had got stained with blood in falling\non the floor, she wiped it two or three times over to clean it; yet\nstill the blood kept on it the same as before. She next washed it, but\nthe blood did not move at all. She then scoured it with brickdust, and\nafter with sand, but in spite of all she could do, the blood was still\nthere; for the key was a fairy who was Blue Beard's friend; so that as\nfast as she got off the blood on one side, it came again on the other.\nEarly in the same evening Blue Beard came home, saying, that before he\nhad gone far on his journey he was met by a horseman, who was coming to\ntell him that his affair in the country was settled without his being\npresent; upon which his wife said every thing she could think of, to\nmake him believe she was in a transport of joy at his sudden return.\n\nThe next morning he asked her for the keys: she gave them to him; but as\nshe could not help showing her fright, Blue Beard easily guessed what\nhad been the matter. \"How is it,\" said he, \"that the key of the closet\nupon the ground floor is not here?\" \"Is it not?\" said the wife, \"then I\nmust have left it on my dressing-table.\" \"Be sure you give it me by and\nby,\" replied Blue Beard. After going a good many times backwards and\nforwards, as if she was looking for the key, she was at last forced to\ngive it to Blue Beard. He looked hard at it, and then said: \"How came\nthis blood upon the key?\" \"I am sure I do not know,\" replied the poor\nlady, at the same time turning as white as a sheet. \"You do not know?\"\nsaid Blue Beard sternly, \"but I know well enough. You have been in the\ncloset on the ground floor! Very well, madam: since you are so mighty\nfond of this closet, you shall be sure to take your place among the\nladies you saw there.\" His wife, who was almost dead with fear, now fell\nupon her knees, asked his pardon a thousand times for her fault, and\nbegged him to forgive her, looking all the time so very mournful and\nlovely, that she would have melted any heart that was not harder than a\nrock. But Blue Beard only said, \"No, no, madam; you shall die this very\nminute!\" \"Alas!\" said the poor trembling creature, \"if I must die, give\nme, as least, a little time to say my prayers.\" \"I give you,\" replied\nthe cruel Blue Beard, \"half a quarter of an hour: not a moment longer.\"\nWhen Blue Beard had left her to herself, she called her sister; and\nafter telling her, as well as she could for sobbing, that she had but\nhalf a quarter of an hour to live; \"Prithee,\" said she, \"sister Anne,\"\n(this was her sister's name), \"run up to the top of the tower, and see\nif my brothers are not in sight, for they said they would visit me\nto-day, and if you see them, make a sign for them to gallop on as fast\nas ever they can.\" Her sister straight did as she was desired; and the\npoor trembling lady every minute cried out to her: \"Anne! sister Anne!\ndo you see any one coming?\" Her sister said, \"I see nothing but the sun,\nwhich makes a dust, and the grass, which looks green.\"\n\nIn the meanwhile, Blue Beard, with a great cimeter in his hand, bawled\nas loud as he could to his wife, \"Come down at once, or I will fetch\nyou.\" \"One moment longer, I beseech you,\" replied she, and again called\nsoftly to her sister, \"Sister Anne, do you see any one coming?\" To which\nshe answered, \"I see nothing but the sun, which makes a dust, and the\ngrass, which looks green.\" Blue Beard now again bawled out, \"Come down,\nI say, this very moment, or I shall come to fetch you.\" \"I am coming;\nindeed I will come in one minute,\" sobbed his wretched wife. Then she\nonce more cried out, \"Anne! sister Anne! do you see any one coming?\" \"I\nsee,\" said her sister, \"a cloud of dust a little to the left.\" \"Do you\nthink it is my brothers?\" said the wife. \"Alas! no, dear sister,\"\nreplied she, \"it is only a flock of sheep.\" \"Will you come down, madam?\"\nsaid Blue Beard, in the greatest rage. \"Only one single moment more,\"\nsaid she. And then she called out for the last time, \"Sister Anne!\nsister Anne! do you see no one coming?\" \"I see,\" replied her sister,\n\"two men on horseback coming; but they are still a great way off.\"\n\"Thank God,\" cried she, \"they are my brothers; beckon them to make\nhaste.\" Blue Beard now cried out so loud for her to come down, that his\nvoice shook the whole house. The poor lady, with her hair loose, and all\nin tears, now came down, and fell on her knees, begging him to spare her\nlife; but he stopped her, saying, \"All this is of no use, for you shall\ndie,\" and then, seizing her by the hair, raised his cimeter to strike\noff her head. The poor woman now begged a single moment to say one\nprayer. \"No, no,\" said Blue Beard, \"I will give you no more time. You\nhave had too much already.\" And again he raised his arm. Just at this\ninstant a loud knocking was heard at the gates, which made Blue Beard\nwait for a moment to see who it was. The gates now flew open, and two\nofficers, dressed in their uniform, came in, and, with their swords in\ntheir hands, ran straight to Blue Beard, who, seeing they were his\nwife's brothers, tried to escape from their presence; but they pursued\nand seized him before he had gone twenty steps, and plunging their\nswords into his body he fell down dead at their feet.\n\nThe poor wife, who was almost as dead as her husband, was not able at\nfirst to rise and embrace her brothers; but she soon came to herself;\nand, as Blue Beard had no heirs, she found herself the owner of his\ngreat riches. She gave a part of his vast fortune as a marriage dowry to\nher sister Anne, who soon after became the wife of a young gentleman who\nhad long loved her. Some of the money she laid out in buying captains'\ncommissions for her two brothers, and the rest she gave to a worthy\ngentleman whom she married shortly after, and whose kind treatment soon\nmade her forget Blue Beard's cruelty.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\nCINDERELLA; OR, THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER\n\n\nThere was once a very rich gentleman who lost his wife, and having loved\nher exceedingly, he was very sorry when she died. Finding himself quite\nunhappy for her loss, he resolved to marry a second time, thinking by\nthis means he should be as happy as before. Unfortunately, however, the\nlady he chanced to fix upon was the proudest and most haughty woman ever\nknown; she was always out of humour with every one; nobody could please\nher, and she returned the civilities of those about her with the most\naffronting disdain. She had two daughters by a former husband. These she\nbrought up to be proud and idle. Indeed, in temper and behaviour they\nperfectly resembled their mother; they did not love their books, and\nwould not learn to work; in short they were disliked by every body. The\ngentleman on his side too had a daughter, who in sweetness of temper and\ncarriage was the exact likeness of her own mother, whose death he had so\nmuch lamented, and whose tender care of the little girl he was in hopes\nto see replaced by that of his new bride. But scarcely was the marriage\nceremony over, before his wife began to show her real temper. She could\nnot bear the pretty little girl, because her sweet obliging manners made\nthose of her own daughters appear a thousand times the more odious and\ndisagreeable. She therefore ordered her to live in the kitchen; and, if\never she brought any thing into the parlour, always scolded her till she\nwas out of sight. She made her work with the servants in washing the\ndishes, and rubbing the tables and chairs; it was her place to clean\nmadam's chamber, and that of the misses her daughters, which was all\ninlaid, had beds of the newest fashion, and looking-glasses so long and\nbroad, that they saw themselves from head to foot in them; while the\nlittle creature herself was forced to sleep up in a sorry garret, upon a\nwretched straw bed, without curtains, or any thing to make her\ncomfortable. The poor child bore this with the greatest patience, not\ndaring to complain to her father, who, she feared, would only reprove\nher, for she saw that his wife governed him entirely. When she had done\nall her work she used to sit in the chimney-corner among the cinders; so\nthat in the house she went by the name of Cinderbreech. The youngest of\nthe two sisters, however, being rather more civil than the eldest,\ncalled her Cinderella. And Cinderella, dirty and ragged as she was, as\noften happens in such cases, was a thousand times prettier than her\nsisters, drest out in all their splendour. It happened that the king's\nson gave a ball, to which he invited all the persons of fashion in the\ncountry. Our two misses were of the number, for the king's son did not\nknow how disagreeable they were, but supposed, as they were so much\nindulged, that they were extremely amiable. He did not invite\nCinderella, for he had never seen or heard of her.\n\nThe two sisters began immediately to be very busy in preparing for the\nhappy day. Nothing could exceed their joy. Every moment of their time\nwas spent in fancying such gowns, shoes, and head-dresses as would set\nthem off to the greatest advantage. All this was new vexation to poor\nCinderella, for it was she who ironed and plaited her sisters' linen.\nThey talked of nothing but how they should be dressed: \"I,\" said the\neldest, \"will wear my scarlet velvet with French trimming.\" \"And I,\"\nsaid the youngest, \"shall wear the same petticoat I had made for the\nlast ball. But then, to make amends for that, I shall put on my gold\nmuslin train, and wear my diamonds in my hair; with these I must\ncertainly look well.\" They sent several miles for the best hair dresser\nthat was to be had, and all their ornaments were bought at the most\nfashionable shops. On the morning of the ball, they called up Cinderella\nto consult with her about their dress, for they knew she had a great\ndeal of taste. Cinderella gave them the best advice she could, and even\noffered to assist in adjusting their head-dresses; which was exactly\nwhat they wanted, and they accordingly accepted her proposal. While\nCinderella was busily engaged in dressing her sisters, they said to her,\n\"Should you not like, Cinderella, to go to the ball?\" \"Ah!\" replied\nCinderella, \"you are only laughing at me, it is not for such as I am to\nthink of going to balls.\" \"You are in the right,\" said they, \"folks\nmight laugh indeed, to see a Cinderbreech dancing in a ball room.\" Any\nother than Cinderella would have tried to make the haughty creatures\nlook as ugly as she could; but the sweet tempered girl on the contrary,\ndid every thing she could think of to make them look well. The sisters\nhad scarcely eaten any thing for two days, so great was their joy as the\nhappy day drew near. More than a dozen laces were broken in endeavouring\nto give them a fine slender shape, and they were always before the\nlooking glass. At length the much wished for moment arrived; the proud\nmisses stepped into a beautiful carriage, and, followed by servants in\nrich liveries, drove towards the palace. Cinderella followed them with\nher eyes as far as she could; and when they were out of sight, she sat\ndown in a corner and began to cry. Her godmother, who saw her in tears,\nasked her what ailed her. \"I wish----I w-i-s-h--\" sobbed poor\nCinderella, without being able to say another word. The godmother, who\nwas a fairy, said to her, \"You wish to go to the ball, Cinderella, is\nnot this the truth?\" \"Alas! yes,\" replied the poor child, sobbing still\nmore than before. \"Well, well, be a good girl,\" said the godmother, \"and\nyou shall go.\" She then led Cinderella to her bedchamber, and said to\nher: \"Run into the garden and bring me a pumpkin.\" Cinderella flew like\nlightning, and brought the finest she could lay hold of. Her godmother\nscooped out the inside, leaving nothing but the rind; she then struck it\nwith her wand, and the pumpkin instantly became a fine coach gilded all\nover with gold. She then looked into her mouse-trap, where she found six\nmice all alive and brisk. She told Cinderella to lift up the door of the\ntrap very gently; and as the mice passed out, she touched them one by\none with her wand, and each immediately became a beautiful horse of a\nfine dapple gray mouse colour. \"Here, my child,\" said the godmother, \"is\na coach and horses too, as handsome as your sisters', but what shall we\ndo for a postillion?\" \"I will run,\" replied Cinderella, \"and see if\nthere be not a rat in the trap. If I find one, he will do very well for\na postillion.\" \"Well thought of, my child,\" said her godmother; \"make\nwhat haste you can.\"\n\nCinderella brought the rat trap, which, to her great joy, contained\nthree of the largest rats ever seen. The fairy chose the one which had\nthe longest beard; and touching him with her wand, he was instantly\nturned into a handsome postillion, with the finest pair of whiskers\nimaginable. She next said to Cinderella: \"Go again into the garden, and\nyou will find six lizards behind the watering-pot; bring them hither.\"\nThis was no sooner done, than with a stroke from the fairy's wand they\nwere changed into six footmen, who all jumped up behind the coach in\ntheir laced liveries, and stood side by side as cleverly as if they had\nbeen used to nothing else the whole of their lives. The fairy then said\nto Cinderella: \"Well, my dear, is not this such an equipage as you could\nwish for to take you to the ball? Are you not delighted with it?\"\n\"Y-e-s,\" replied Cinderella with hesitation, \"but must I go thither in\nthese filthy rags?\" Her godmother touched her with the wand, and her\nrags instantly became the most magnificent apparel, ornamented with the\nmost costly jewels in the whole world. To these she added a beautiful\npair of glass slippers, and bade her set out for the palace. The fairy,\nhowever, before she took leave of Cinderella, strictly charged her on no\naccount whatever to stay at the ball after the clock had struck twelve,\ntelling her that, should she stay but a single moment after that time,\nher coach would again become a pumpkin, her horses mice, her footmen\nlizards, and her fine clothes be changed to filthy rags. Cinderella did\nnot fail to promise all her godmother desired of her; and almost wild\nwith joy drove away to the palace. As soon as she arrived, the king's\nson, who had been informed that a great princess, whom nobody knew, was\ncome to the ball, presented himself at the door of her carriage, helped\nher out, and conducted her to the ball room. Cinderella no sooner\nappeared than every one was silent; both the dancing and the music\nstopped, and every body was employed in gazing at the uncommon beauty of\nthis unknown stranger. Nothing was heard but whispers of \"How handsome\nshe is!\" The king himself, old as he was, could not keep his eyes from\nher, and continually repeated to the queen, that it was a long time\nsince he had seen so lovely a creature. The ladies endeavoured to find\nout how her clothes were made, that they might get some of the same\npattern for themselves by the next day, should they be lucky enough to\nmeet with such handsome materials, and such good work-people to make\nthem.\n\nThe king's son conducted her to the most honourable seat, and soon after\ntook her out to dance with him. She both moved and danced so gracefully,\nthat every one admired her still more than before, and she was thought\nthe most beautiful and accomplished lady they ever beheld. After some\ntime a delicious collation was served up; but the young prince was so\nbusily employed in looking at her, that he did not eat a morsel.\nCinderella seated herself near her sisters, paid them a thousand\nattentions, and offered them a part of the oranges and sweetmeats with\nwhich the prince had presented her, while they on their part were quite\nastonished at these civilities from a lady whom they did not know. As\nthey were conversing together, Cinderella heard the clock strike eleven\nand three quarters. She rose from her seat, curtesied to the company,\nand hastened away as fast as she could. As soon as she got home she flew\nto her godmother, and, after thanking her a thousand times, told her she\nwould give the world to be able to go again to the ball the next day,\nfor the king's son had entreated her to be there. While she was telling\nher godmother every thing that had happened to her at the ball, the two\nsisters knocked a loud rat-tat-tat at the door; which Cinderella opened.\n\"How late you have stayed!\" said she, yawning, rubbing her eyes, and\nstretching herself, as if just awakened out of her sleep, though she had\nin truth felt no desire for sleep since they left her. \"If you had been\nat the ball,\" said one of her sisters, \"let me tell you, you would not\nhave been sleepy. There came thither the handsomest, yes, the very\nhandsomest princess ever beheld! She paid us a thousand attentions, and\nmade us take a part of the oranges and sweetmeats the prince had given\nher.\" Cinderella could scarcely contain herself for joy: she asked her\nsisters the name of this princess, to which they replied, that nobody\nhad been able to discover who she was; that the king's son was extremely\ngrieved on that account, and had offered a large reward to any person\nwho could find out where she came from. Cinderella smiled, and said:\n\"How very beautiful she must be! How fortunate you are! Ah, could I but\nsee her for a single moment! Dear Miss Charlotte, lend me only the\nyellow gown you wear every day, and let me go to see her.\" \"Oh! yes, I\nwarrant you; lend my clothes to a Cinderbreech! Do you really suppose me\nsuch a fool? No, no; pray, Miss Forward, mind your proper business, and\nleave dress and balls to your betters.\" Cinderella expected some such\nanswer, and was by no means sorry, for she would have been sadly at a\nloss what to do if her sister had lent her the clothes that she asked of\nher.\n\nThe next day the two sisters again appeared at the ball, and so did\nCinderella, but dressed much more magnificently than the night before.\nThe king's son was continually by her side, and said the most obliging\nthings imaginable to her. The charming young creature was far from being\ntired of all the agreeable things she met with. On the contrary, she was\nso delighted with them that she entirely forgot the charge her godmother\nhad given her. Cinderella at last heard the striking of a clock, and\ncounted one, two, three, on till she came to twelve, though she thought\nthat it could be but eleven at most. She got up and flew as nimbly as a\ndeer out of the ball-room. The prince tried to overtake her; but poor\nCinderella's fright made her run the faster. However, in her great\nhurry, she dropped one of her glass slippers from her foot, which the\nprince stooped down and picked up, and took the greatest care of it\npossible. Cinderella got home tired and out of breath, in her old\nclothes, without either coach or footmen, and having nothing left of her\nmagnificence but the fellow of the glass slipper which she had dropped.\nIn the mean while, the prince had inquired of all his guards at the\npalace gates, if they had not seen a magnificent princess pass out, and\nwhich way she went? The guards replied, that no princess had passed the\ngates; and that they had not seen a creature but a little ragged girl,\nwho looked more like a beggar than a princess. When the two sisters\nreturned from the ball, Cinderella asked them if they had been as much\namused as the night before, and if the beautiful princess had been\nthere? They told her that she had; but that as soon as the clock struck\ntwelve, she hurried away from the ball room, and in the great haste she\nhad made, had dropped one of her glass slippers, which was the prettiest\nshape that could be; that the king's son had picked it up, and had done\nnothing but look at it all the rest of the evening; and that every body\nbelieved he was violently in love with the handsome lady to whom it\nbelonged.\n\nThis was very true; for a few days after, the prince had it proclaimed,\nby sound of trumpet, that he would marry the lady whose foot should\nexactly fit the slipper he had found. Accordingly the prince's\nmessengers took the slipper, and carried it first to all the princesses,\nthen to the duchesses, in short, to all the ladies of the court. But\nwithout success. They then brought it to the two sisters, who each tried\nall she could to squeeze her foot into the slipper, but saw at last that\nthis was quite impossible. Cinderella who was looking at them all the\nwhile, and knew her slipper, could not help smiling, and ventured to\nsay, \"Pray, sir, let me try to get on the slipper.\" The gentleman made\nher sit down; and putting the slipper to her foot, it instantly slipped\nin, and he saw that it fitted her like wax. The two sisters were amazed\nto see that the slipper fitted Cinderella; but how much greater was\ntheir astonishment when she drew out of her pocket the other slipper and\nput it on! Just at this moment the fairy entered the room, and touching\nCinderella's clothes with her wand, made her all at once appear more\nmagnificently dressed than they had ever seen her before.\n\nThe two sisters immediately perceived that she was the beautiful\nprincess they had seen at the ball. They threw themselves at her feet,\nand asked her forgiveness for the ill treatment she had received from\nthem. Cinderella helped them to rise, and, tenderly embracing them, said\nthat she forgave them with all her heart, and begged them to bestow on\nher their affection. Cinderella was then conducted, dressed as she was,\nto the young prince, who finding her more beautiful than ever, instantly\ndesired her to accept of his hand. The marriage ceremony took place in a\nfew days; and Cinderella, who was as amiable as she was handsome, gave\nher sisters magnificent apartments in the palace, and a short time after\nmarried them to two great lords of the court.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV\n\nPUSS IN BOOTS\n\n\nThere was a miller who had three sons, and when he died he divided what\nhe possessed among them in the following manner: He gave his mill to the\neldest, his ass to the second, and his cat to the youngest. Each of the\nbrothers accordingly took what belonged to him, without the help of an\nattorney, who would soon have brought their little fortune to nothing,\nin law expenses. The poor young fellow who had nothing but the cat,\ncomplained that he was hardly used: \"My brothers,\" said he, \"by joining\ntheir stocks together, may do well in the world, but for me, when I have\neaten my cat, and made a fur cap of his skin, I may soon die of hunger!\"\nThe cat, who all this time sat listening just inside the door of a\ncupboard, now ventured to come out and addressed him as follows: \"Do not\nthus afflict yourself, my good master. You have only to give me a bag,\nand get a pair of boots made for me, so that I may scamper through the\ndirt and the brambles, and you shall see that you are not so ill\nprovided for as you imagine.\" Though the cat's master did not much\ndepend upon these promises, yet, as he had often observed the cunning\ntricks puss used to catch the rats and mice, such as hanging upon his\nhind legs, and hiding in the meal to make believe that he was dead, he\ndid not entirely despair of his being of some use to him in his unhappy\ncondition.\n\nWhen the cat had obtained what he asked for, he gayly began to equip\nhimself: he drew on his boots; and putting the bag about his neck, he\ntook hold of the strings with his fore paws, and bidding his master take\ncourage, immediately sallied forth. The first attempt Puss made was to\ngo into a warren in which there were a great number of rabbits. He put\nsome bran and some parsley into his bag; and then stretching himself out\nat full length as if he was dead, he waited for some young rabbits, who\nas yet knew nothing of the cunning tricks of the world, to come and get\ninto the bag, the better to feast upon the dainties he had put into it.\nScarcely had he lain down before he succeeded as well as could be\nwished. A giddy young rabbit crept into the bag, and the cat immediately\ndrew the strings, and killed him without mercy. Puss, proud of his prey,\nhastened directly to the palace, where he asked to speak to the king. On\nbeing shown into the apartment of his majesty, he made a low bow, and\nsaid, \"I have brought you, sire, this rabbit from the warren of my lord\nthe marquis of Carabas, who commanded me to present it to your majesty\nwith the assurance of his respect.\" (This was the title the cat thought\nproper to bestow upon his master.) \"Tell my lord marquis of Carabas,\"\nreplied the king, \"that I accept of his present with pleasure, and that\nI am greatly obliged to him.\" Soon after, the cat laid himself down in\nthe same manner in a field of corn, and had as much good fortune as\nbefore; for two fine partridges got into his bag, which he immediately\nkilled and carried to the palace: the king received them as he had done\nthe rabbit, and ordered his servants to give the messenger something to\ndrink. In this manner he continued to carry presents of game to the king\nfrom my lord marquis of Carabas, once at least in every week.\n\nOne day, the cat having heard that the king intended to take a ride that\nmorning by the river's side with his daughter, who was the most\nbeautiful princess in the world, he said to his master: \"If you will but\nfollow my advice, your fortune is made. Take off your clothes, and bathe\nyourself in the river, just in the place I shall show you, and leave the\nrest to me,\" The marquis of Carabas did exactly as he was desired,\nwithout being able to guess at what the cat intended. While he was\nbathing the king passed by, and puss directly called out as loud as he\ncould bawl: \"Help! help! My lord marquis of Carabas is in danger of\nbeing drowned!\" The king hearing the cries, put his head out at the\nwindow of his carriage to see what was the matter: when, perceiving the\nvery cat who had brought him so many presents, he ordered his attendants\nto go directly to the assistance of my lord marquis of Carabas. While\nthey were employed in taking the marquis out of the river, the cat ran\nto the king's carriage, and told his majesty, that while his master was\nbathing, some thieves had run off with his clothes as they lay by the\nriver's side; the cunning cat all the time having hid them under a large\nstone. The king hearing this, commanded the officers of his wardrobe to\nfetch one of the handsomest suits it contained, and present it to my\nlord marquis of Carabas, at the same time loading him with a thousand\nattentions. As the fine clothes they brought him made him look like a\ngentleman, and set off his person, which was very comely, to the\ngreatest advantage, the king's daughter was mightily taken with his\nappearance, and the marquis of Carabas had no sooner cast upon her two\nor three respectful glances, then she became violently in love with him.\n\nThe king insisted on his getting into the carriage and taking a ride\nwith them. The cat, enchanted to see how well his scheme was likely to\nsucceed, ran before to a meadow that was reaping, and said to the\nreapers: \"Good people, if you do not tell the king, who will soon pass\nthis way, that the meadow you are reaping belongs to my lord marquis of\nCarabas, you shall be chopped as small as mince meat.\" The king did not\nfail to ask the reapers to whom the meadow belonged? \"To my lord marquis\nof Carabas,\" said they all at once; for the threats of the cat had\nterribly frighted them. \"You have here a very fine piece of land, my\nlord marquis,\" said the king. \"Truly, sire,\" replied he, \"it does not\nfail to bring me every year a plentiful harvest.\" The cat who still went\non before, now came to a field where some other labourers were making\nsheaves of the corn they had reaped, to whom he said as before: \"Good\npeople, if you do not tell the king who will presently pass this way,\nthat the corn you have reaped in this field belongs to my lord marquis\nof Carabas, you shall be chopped as small as mince meat.\" The king\naccordingly passed a moment after, and inquired to whom the corn he saw\nbelonged? \"To my lord marquis of Carabas,\" answered they very glibly;\nupon which the king again complimented the marquis upon his noble\npossessions. The cat still continued to go before, and gave the same\ncharge to all the people he met with; so that the king was greatly\nastonished at the splendid fortune of my lord marquis of Carabas. Puss\nat length arrived at a stately castle, which belonged to an Ogre, the\nrichest ever known; for all the lands the king had passed through and\nadmired were his. The cat took care to learn every particular about the\nOgre, and what he could do, and then asked to speak with him, saying, as\nhe entered the room in which he was, that he could not pass so near his\ncastle without doing himself the honour to inquire after his health. The\nOgre received him as civilly as an Ogre could do, and desired him to be\nseated, \"I have been informed,\" said the cat, \"that you have the gift of\nchanging yourself to all sorts of animals; into a lion or an elephant\nfor example.\" \"It is very true,\" replied the Ogre somewhat sternly; \"and\nto convince you I will directly take the form of a lion.\" The cat was so\nmuch terrified at finding himself so near to a lion, that he sprang from\nhim, and climbed to the roof of the house; but not without much\ndifficulty, as his boots were not very fit to walk upon the tiles.\n\nSome minutes after, the cat perceiving that the Ogre had quitted the\nform of a lion, ventured to come down from the tiles, and owned that he\nhad been a good deal frightened, \"I have been further informed,\"\ncontinued the cat, \"but I know not how to believe it, that you have the\npower of taking the form of the smallest animals also; for example of\nchanging yourself to a rat or a mouse: I confess I should think this\nimpossible.\" \"Impossible! you shall see;\" and at the same instant he\nchanged himself into a mouse, and began to frisk about the room. The cat\nno sooner cast his eyes upon the Ogre in this form, than he sprang upon\nhim and devoured him in an instant. In the meantime the king, admiring\nas he came near it, the magnificent castle of the Ogre, ordered his\nattendants to drive up to the gates, as he wished to take a nearer view\nof it. The cat, hearing the noise of the carriage on the drawbridge,\nimmediately came out, saying: \"Your majesty is welcome to the castle of\nmy lord marquis of Carabas.\" \"And is this splendid castle yours also, my\nlord marquis of Carabas? I never saw anything more stately than the\nbuilding, or more beautiful than the park and pleasure grounds around\nit; no doubt the castle is no less magnificent within than without:\npray, my lord marquis, indulge me with a sight of it.\"\n\nThe marquis gave his hand to the young princess as she alighted, and\nfollowed the king who went before; they entered a spacious hall, where\nthey found a splendid collation which the Ogre had prepared for some\nfriends he had that day expected to visit him; but who, hearing that the\nking with the princess and a great gentleman of the court were within,\nhad not dared to enter. The king was so much charmed with the amiable\nqualities and noble fortune of the marquis of Carabas, and the young\nprincess too had fallen so violently in love with him, that when the\nking had partaken of the collation, and drunk a few glasses of wine, he\nsaid to the marquis: \"It will be you own fault, my lord marquis of\nCarabas, if you do not soon become my son-in-law.\" The marquis received\nthe intelligence with a thousand respectful acknowledgments, accepted\nthe honour conferred upon him, and married the princess that very day.\nThe cat became a great lord, and never after ran after rats and mice but\nfor his amusement.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI\n\nTHE SLEEPING BEAUTY IN THE WOOD\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a king and a queen who grieved sorely that\nthey had no children. When at last the queen gave birth to a daughter\nthe king was so overjoyed that he gave a great christening feast, the\nlike of which had never before been known. He asked all the fairies in\nthe land--there were seven all told--to stand godmothers to the little\nprincess, hoping that each might give her a gift, and so she should have\nall imaginable perfections.\n\nAfter the christening, all the company returned to the palace, where a\ngreat feast had been spread for the fairy godmothers. Before each was\nset a magnificent plate, with a gold knife and a gold fork studded with\ndiamonds and rubies. Just as they were seating themselves, however,\nthere entered an old fairy who had not been invited because more than\nfifty years ago she had shut herself up in a tower and it was supposed\nthat she was either dead or enchanted.\n\nThe king ordered a cover to be laid for her, but it could not be a\nmassive gold one like the others, for only seven had been ordered made.\nThe old fairy thought herself ill-used and muttered between her teeth.\nOne of the young fairies, overhearing her, and fancying she might work\nsome mischief to the little baby, went and hid herself behind the\nhangings in the hall, so as to be able to have the last word and undo\nany harm the old fairy might wish to work. The fairies now began to\nendow the princess. The youngest, for her gift, decreed that she should\nbe the most beautiful person in the world; the next that she should have\nthe mind of an angel; the third that she should be perfectly graceful;\nthe fourth that she should dance admirably well; the fifth, that she\nshould sing like a nightingale; the sixth, that she should play\ncharmingly upon every musical instrument. The turn of the old fairy had\nnow come, and she declared, while her head shook with malice, that the\nprincess should pierce her hand with a spindle and die of the wound.\nThis dreadful fate threw all the company into tears of dismay, when the\nyoung fairy who had hidden herself came forward and said:\n\n\"Be of good cheer, king and queen; your daughter shall not so die. It is\ntrue I cannot entirely undo what my elder has done. The princess will\npierce her hand with a spindle, but, instead of dying, she will only\nfall into a deep sleep. The sleep will last a hundred years, and at the\nend of that time a king's son will come to wake her.\"\n\nThe king, in hopes of preventing what the old fairy had foretold,\nimmediately issued an edict by which he forbade all persons in his\ndominion from spinning or even having spindles in their houses under\npain of instant death.\n\nNow fifteen years after the princess was born she was with the king and\nqueen at one of their castles, and as she was running about by herself\nshe came to a little chamber at the top of a tower, and there sat an\nhonest old woman spinning, for she had never heard of the king's edict.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" asked the princess.\n\n\"I am spinning, my fair child,\" said the old woman, who did not know\nher.\n\n\"How pretty it is!\" exclaimed the princess. \"How do you do it? Give it\nto me that I may see if I can do it.\" She had no sooner taken up the\nspindle, than, being hasty and careless, she pierced her hand with the\npoint of it, and fainted away. The old woman, in great alarm, called for\nhelp. People came running in from all sides; they threw water in the\nprincess's face and did all they could to restore her, but nothing would\nbring her to. The king, who had heard the noise and confusion, came up\nalso, and remembering what the fairy had said, he had the princess\ncarried to the finest apartment and laid upon a richly embroidered bed.\nShe lay there in all her loveliness, for the swoon had not made her\npale; her lips were cherry-ripe and her cheeks ruddy and fair; her eyes\nwere closed, but they could hear her breathing quietly; she could not be\ndead. The king looked sorrowfully upon her. He knew that she would not\nawake for a hundred years.\n\nThe good fairy who had saved her life and turned her death into sleep\nwas in the kingdom of Mataquin, twelve thousand leagues away, when this\nhappened, but she learned of it from a dwarf who had a pair of\nseven-league boots, and instantly set out for the castle, where she\narrived in an hour, drawn by dragons in a fiery chariot. The king came\nforward to receive her and showed his grief. The good fairy was very\nwise and saw that the princess when she woke would find herself all\nalone in that great castle and everything about her would be strange. So\nthis is what she did. She touched with her wand everybody that was in\nthe castle, except the king and queen. She touched the governesses,\nmaids of honour, women of the bedchamber, gentlemen, officers,\nstewards, cooks, scullions, boys, guards, porters, pages, footmen; she\ntouched the horses in the stable with their grooms, the great mastiffs\nin the court-yard, and even little Pouste, the tiny lap-dog of the\nprincess that was on the bed beside her. As soon as she had touched them\nthey all fell asleep, not to wake again until the time arrived for their\nmistress to do so, when they would be ready to wait upon her. Even the\nspits before the fire, laden with partridges and pheasants, went to\nsleep, and the fire itself went to sleep also.\n\nIt was the work of a moment. The king and queen kissed their daughter\nfarewell and left the castle, issuing a proclamation that no person\nwhatsoever was to approach it. That was needless, for in a quarter of an\nhour there had grown up about it a wood so thick and filled with thorns\nthat nothing could get at the castle, and the castle top itself could\nonly be seen from a great distance.\n\nA hundred years went by, and the kingdom was in the hands of another\nroyal family. The son of the king was hunting one day when he discovered\nthe towers of the castle above the tops of the trees, and asked what\ncastle that was. All manner of answers were given to him. One said it\nwas an enchanted castle, another that witches lived there, but most\nbelieved that it was occupied by a great ogre which carried thither all\nthe children he could catch and ate them up one at a time, for nobody\ncould get at him through the wood. The prince did not know what to\nbelieve, when finally an old peasant said:\n\n\"Prince, it is more than fifty years since I heard my father say that\nthere was in that castle the most beautiful princess that ever was seen;\nthat she was to sleep for a hundred years, and to be awakened at last by\nthe king's son, who was to marry her.\"\n\nThe young prince at these words felt himself on fire. He had not a\nmoment's doubt that he was destined to this great adventure, and full of\nardour he determined at once to set out for the castle. Scarcely had he\ncome to the wood when all the trees and thorns which had made such an\nimpenetrable thicket opened on one side and the other to offer him a\npath. He walked toward the castle, which appeared now at the end of a\nlong avenue, but when he turned to, look for his followers not one was\nto be seen; the woods had closed instantly upon him as he had passed\nthrough. He was entirely alone, and utter silence was about him. He\nentered a large forecourt and stood still with amazement and awe. On\nevery side were stretched the bodies of men and animals apparently\nlifeless. But the faces of the men were rosy, and the goblets by them\nhad a few drops of wine left. The men had plainly fallen asleep. His\nsteps resounded as he passed over the marble pavement and up the marble\nstaircase. He entered the guard-room; there the guards stood drawn up in\nline with carbines at their shoulders, but they were sound asleep. He\npassed through one apartment after another, where were ladies and\ngentlemen asleep in their chairs or standing. He entered a chamber\ncovered with gold, and saw on a bed, the curtains of which were drawn,\nthe most lovely sight he had ever looked upon--a princess, who appeared\nto be about fifteen or sixteen, and so fair that she seemed to belong to\nanother world. He drew near, trembling and wondering, and knelt beside\nher. Her hand lay upon her breast, and he touched his lips to it. At\nthat moment, the enchantment being ended, the princess awoke, and,\nlooking drowsily and tenderly at the young man, said:\n\n\"Have you come, my prince? I have waited long for you.\" The prince was\noverjoyed at the words, and at the tender voice and look, and scarcely\nknew how to speak. But he managed to assure her of his love, and they\nsoon forgot all else as they talked and talked. They talked for four\nhours, and had not then said half that was in their heads to say.\n\nMeanwhile all the rest of the people in the castle had been wakened at\nthe same moment as the princess, and they were now extremely hungry. The\nlady-in-waiting became very impatient, and at length announced to the\nprincess that they all waited for her. Then the prince took the princess\nby the hand; she was dressed in great splendour, but he did not hint\nthat she looked as he had seen pictures of his great-grandmother look;\nhe thought her all the more charming for that. They passed into a hall\nof mirrors, where they supped, attended by the officers of the princess.\nThe violins and haut-boys played old but excellent pieces of music, and\nafter supper, to lose no time, the grand almoner married the royal\nlovers in the chapel of the castle.\n\nWhen they left the castle the next day to return to the prince's home,\nthey were followed by all the retinue of the princess. They marched down\nthe long avenue, and the wood opened again to let them pass. Outside\nthey met the prince's followers, who were overjoyed to see their master.\nHe turned to show them the castle, but behold! there was no castle to be\nseen, and no wood; castle and wood had vanished, but the prince and\nprincess went gayly away, and when the old king and queen died they\nreigned in their stead.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII\n\nJACK AND THE BEAN-STALK\n\n\nIn the days of King Alfred, there lived a poor woman whose cottage was\nsituated in a remote country village, a great many miles from London.\nShe had been a widow some years, and had an only child named Jack, whom\nshe indulged to a fault. The consequence of her blind partiality was,\nthat Jack did not pay the least attention to any thing she said, but was\nindolent, careless, and extravagant. His follies were not owing to a bad\ndisposition, but that his mother had never checked him. By degrees she\ndisposed of all she possessed--scarcely any thing remained but a cow.\nThe poor woman one day met Jack with tears in her eyes; her distress was\ngreat, and for the first time in her life she could not help reproaching\nhim, saying, \"Oh! you wicked child, by your ungrateful course of life\nyou have at last brought me to beggary and ruin. Cruel, cruel boy! I\nhave not money enough to purchase even a bit of bread for another\nday--nothing now remains to sell but my poor cow! I am sorry to part\nwith her; it grieves me sadly, but we must not starve.\" For a few\nminutes, Jack felt a degree of remorse, but it was soon over, and he\nbegan teasing his mother to let him sell the cow at the next village, so\nmuch, that she at last consented. As he was going along, he met a\nbutcher, who inquired why he was driving the cow from home? Jack\nreplied, he was going to sell it. The butcher held some curious beans in\nhis hat; they were of various colours, and attracted Jack's attention.\nThis did not pass unnoticed by the butcher, who, knowing Jack's easy\ntemper, thought now was the time to take an advantage of it; and\ndetermined not to let slip so good an opportunity, asked what was the\nprice of the cow, offering at the same time all the beans in his hat for\nher. The silly boy could not conceal the pleasure he felt at what he\nsupposed so great an offer, the bargain was struck instantly, and the\ncow exchanged for a few paltry beans. Jack made the best of his way\nhome, calling aloud to his mother before he reached home, thinking to\nsurprise her.\n\nWhen she saw the beans, and heard Jack's account, her patience quite\nforsook her. She kicked the beans away in a passion--they flew in all\ndirections--some were scattered in the garden. Not having any thing to\neat, they both went supperless to bed. Jack woke early in the morning,\nand seeing something uncommon from the window of his bedchamber, ran\ndown stairs into the garden, where he soon discovered that some of the\nbeans had taken root, and sprung up surprisingly: the stalks were of an\nimmense thickness, and had so entwined, that they formed a ladder nearly\nlike a chain in appearance. Looking upward, he could not discern the\ntop, it appeared to be lost in the clouds: he tried it, found it firm,\nand not to be shaken. He quickly formed the resolution of endeavouring\nto climb up to the top, in order to seek his fortune, and ran to\ncommunicate his intention to his mother, not doubting but she would be\nequally pleased with himself. She declared he should not go; said it\nwould break her heart if he did--entreated, and threatened--but all in\nvain. Jack set out, and after climbing for some hours, reached the top\nof the bean-stalk, fatigued and quite exhausted. Looking around, he\nfound himself in a strange country; it appeared to be a desert, quite\nbarren, not a tree, shrub, house, or living creature to be seen; here\nand there were scattered fragments of stone; and at unequal distances,\nsmall heaps of earth were loosely thrown together.\n\nJack seated himself pensively upon a block of stone, and thought of his\nmother--he reflected with sorrow upon his disobedience in climbing the\nbean-stalk against her will; and concluded that he must die with hunger.\nHowever he walked on, hoping to see a house where he might beg something\nto eat and drink; presently a handsome young woman appeared at a\ndistance: as she approached, Jack could not help admiring how beautiful\nand lively she looked; she was dressed in the most elegant manner, and\nhad a small white wand in her hand, on the top of which was a peacock of\npure gold. While Jack was looking with great surprise at this charming\nfemale, she came up to him, and with a smile of the most bewitching\nsweetness, inquired how he came there. Jack related the circumstance of\nthe bean-stalk. She asked him if he recollected his father; he replied\nhe did not; and added, there must be some mystery relating to him,\nbecause if he asked his mother who his father was, she always burst into\ntears, and appeared violently agitated, nor did she recover herself for\nsome days after; one thing, however, he could not avoid observing upon\nthese occasions, which was that she always carefully avoided answering\nhim, and even seemed afraid of speaking, as if there was some secret\nconnected with his father's history which she must not disclose. The\nyoung woman replied, \"I will reveal the whole story; your mother must\nnot. But, before I begin, I require a solemn promise on your part to do\nwhat I command; I am a fairy, and if you do not perform exactly what I\ndesire, you will be destroyed,\" Jack was frightened at her menaces, but\npromised to fulfil her injunctions exactly, and the fairy thus addressed\nhim:\n\n\"Your father was a rich man, his disposition remarkably benevolent: he\nwas very good to the poor, and constantly relieving them. He made it a\nrule never to let a day pass without doing good to some person. On one\nparticular day in the week, he kept open house, and invited only those\nwho were reduced and had lived well. He always presided himself, and did\nall in his power to render his guests comfortable; the rich and the\ngreat were not invited. The servants were all happy, and greatly\nattached to their master and mistress. Your father, though only a\nprivate gentleman, was as rich as a prince, and he deserved all he\npossessed, for he only lived to do good. Such a man was soon known and\ntalked of. A giant lived a great many miles off: this man was altogether\nas wicked as your father was good; he was in his heart envious,\ncovetous, and cruel; but he had the art of concealing those vices. He\nwas poor, and wished to enrich himself at any rate. Hearing your father\nspoken of, he formed the design of becoming acquainted with him, hoping\nto ingratiate himself into your father's favour. He removed quickly into\nyour neighbourhood, caused to be reported that he was a gentleman who\nhad just lost all he possessed by an earth-quake, and found it difficult\nto escape with his life; his wife was with him. Your father gave credit\nto his story, and pitied him, gave him handsome apartments in his own\nhouse, and caused him and his wife to be treated like visitors of\nconsequence, little imagining that the giant was meditating a horrid\nreturn for all his favours.\n\n\"Things went on in this way for some time, the giant becoming daily more\nimpatient to put his plan into execution; at last a favourable\nopportunity presented itself. Your father's house was at some distance\nfrom the seashore, but with a glass the coast could be seen distinctly.\nThe giant was one day using the telescope; the wind was very high; he\nsaw a fleet of ships in distress off the rocks; he hastened to your\nfather, mentioned the circumstance, and eagerly requested he would send\nall the servants he could spare to relieve the sufferers. Every one was\ninstantly despatched, except the porter and your nurse; the giant then\njoined your father in the study, and appeared to be delighted--he really\nwas so. Your father recommended a favourite book, and was handing it\ndown: the giant took the opportunity, and stabbed him; he instantly fell\ndown dead. The giant left the body, found the porter and nurse, and\npresently despatched them; being determined to have no living witnesses\nof his crimes. You were then only three months old; your mother had you\nin her arms in a remote part of the house, and was ignorant of what was\ngoing on; she went into the study, but how was she shocked, on\ndiscovering your father a corpse, and weltering in his blood! she was\nstupefied with horror and grief, and was motionless. The giant, who was\nseeking her, found her in that state, and hastened to serve her and you\nas he had done her husband, but she fell at his feet, and in a pathetic\nmanner besought him to spare your life and hers.\n\n\"Remorse, for a moment, seemed to touch the barbarian's heart: he\ngranted your lives; but first he made her take a most solemn oath, never\nto inform you who your father was, or to answer any questions concerning\nhim: assuring her that if she did, he would certainly discover her, and\nput both of you to death in the most cruel manner. Your mother took you\nin her arms, and fled as quickly as possible; she was scarcely gone when\nthe giant repented that he had suffered her to escape. He would have\npursued her instantly; but he had to provide for his own safety; as it\nwas necessary he should be gone before the servants returned. Having\ngained your father's confidence, he knew where to find all his treasure:\nhe soon loaded himself and his wife, set the house on fire in several\nplaces, and when the servants returned, the house was burned quite down\nto the ground. Your poor mother, forlorn, abandoned, and forsaken,\nwandered with you a great many miles from this scene of desolation. Fear\nadded to her haste. She settled in the cottage where you were brought\nup, and it was entirety owing to her fear of the giant that she never\nmentioned your father to you. I became your father's guardian at his\nbirth; but fairies have laws to which they are subject as well as\nmortals. A short time before the giant went to your father's, I\ntransgressed; my punishment was a suspension of power for a limited\ntime--an unfortunate circumstance, as it totally prevented my succouring\nyour father.\n\n\"The day on which you met the butcher, as you went to sell your mother's\ncow, my power was restored. It was I who secretly prompted you to take\nthe beans in exchange for the cow. By my power, the bean-stalk grew to\nso great a height, and formed a ladder. I need not add that I inspired\nyou with a strong desire to ascend the ladder. The giant lives in this\ncountry: you are the person appointed to punish him for all his\nwickedness. You will have dangers and difficulties to encounter, but you\nmust persevere in avenging the death of your father, or you will not\nprosper in any of your undertakings, but will always be miserable. As to\nthe giant's possessions, you may seize on all you can; for every thing\nhe has is yours, though now you are unjustly deprived of it. One thing I\ndesire--do not let your mother know you are acquainted with your\nfather's history, till you see me again. Go along the direct road, you\nwill soon see the house where your cruel enemy lives. While you do as I\norder you, I will protect and guard you; but, remember, if you dare\ndisobey my commands, a most dreadful punishment awaits you.\"\n\nWhen the fairy had concluded, she disappeared, leaving Jack to pursue\nhis journey. He walked on till after sunset, when, to his great joy, he\nespied a large mansion. This agreeable sight revived his drooping\nspirits; he redoubled his speed, and soon reached it. A plain-looking\nwoman was at the door--he accosted her, begging she would give him a\nmorsel of bread and a night's lodging. She expressed the greatest\nsurprise at seeing him; and said it was quite uncommon to see a human\nbeing near their house, for it was well known that her husband was a\nlarge and very powerful giant, and that he would never eat any thing but\nhuman flesh, if he could possibly get it; that he did not think any\nthing of walking fifty miles to procure it, usually being out the whole\nday for that purpose.\n\nThis account greatly terrified Jack, but still he hoped to elude the\ngiant, and therefore he again entreated the woman to take him in for one\nnight only, and hide him where she thought proper. The good woman at\nlast suffered herself to be persuaded, for she was of a compassionate\nand generous disposition, and took him into the house. First, they\nentered a fine large hall, magnificently furnished; they then passed\nthrough several spacious rooms, all in the same style of grandeur; but\nthey appeared to be quite forsaken and desolate. A long gallery was\nnext; it was very dark--just light enough to show that, instead of a\nwall on one side, there was a grating of iron, which parted off a dismal\ndungeon, from whence issued the groans of those poor victims whom the\ncruel giant reserved in confinement for his own voracious appetite. Poor\nJack was half dead with fear, and would have given the world to have\nbeen with his mother again, for he now began to fear that he should\nnever see her more, and gave himself up for lost; he even mistrusted the\ngood woman, and thought she had let him into the house for no other\npurpose than to lock him up among the unfortunate people in the dungeon.\nAt the farther end of the gallery there was a spacious kitchen, and a\nvery excellent fire was burning in the grate. The good woman bid Jack\nsit down, and gave him plenty to eat and drink. Jack, not seeing any\nthing here to make him uncomfortable, soon forgot his fear, and was just\nbeginning to enjoy himself, when he was aroused by a loud knocking at\nthe street-door, which made the whole house shake: the giant's wife ran\nto secure him in the oven, and then went to let her husband in. Jack\nheard him accost her in a voice like thunder, saying: \"Wife, I smell\nfresh meat.\" \"Oh! my dear,\" replied she, \"it is nothing but the people\nin the dungeon.\" The giant appeared to believe her, and walked into the\nvery kitchen where poor Jack was concealed, who shook, trembled, and was\nmore terrified than he had yet been. At last, the monster seated himself\nquietly by the fire-side, whilst his wife prepared supper. By degrees\nJack recovered himself sufficiently to look at the giant through a small\ncrevice. He was quite astonished to see what an amazing quantity he\ndevoured, and thought he never would have done eating and drinking. When\nsupper was ended, the giant desired his wife to bring him his hen. A\nvery beautiful hen was then brought, and placed on the table before him.\nJack's curiosity was very great to see what would happen: he observed\nthat every time the giant said \"Lay!\" the hen laid an egg of solid gold.\nThe giant amused himself a long time with his hen; meanwhile his wife\nwent to bed. At length the giant fell asleep by the fire-side, and\nsnored like the roaring of a cannon.\n\nAt daybreak, Jack, finding the giant still asleep, and not likely to\nawaken soon, crept softly out of his hiding-place, seized the hen, and\nran off with her. He met with some difficulty in finding his way out of\nthe house, but at last he reached the road with safety. He easily found\nthe way to the bean-stalk, and descended it better and quicker than he\nexpected. His mother was overjoyed to see him; he found her crying\nbitterly, and lamenting his hard fate, for she concluded he had come to\nsome shocking end through his rashness. Jack was impatient to show his\nhen, and inform his mother how valuable it was. \"And now, mother,\" said\nJack, \"I have brought home that which will quickly make us rich; and I\nhope to make you some amends for the affliction I have caused you\nthrough my idleness, extravagance, and folly.\" The hen produced as many\ngolden eggs as they desired: they sold them, and in a little time became\npossessed of as much riches as they wanted. For some months Jack and his\nmother lived very happily together; but he being very desirous of\ntravelling, recollecting the fairy's commands, and fearing that if he\ndelayed, she would put her threats into execution, longed to climb the\nbean-stalk, and pay the giant another visit, in order to carry away some\nmore of his treasures; for, during the time that Jack was in the giant's\nmansion, whilst he lay concealed in the oven, he learned from the\nconversation that took place between the giant and his wife, that he\npossessed some wonderful curiosities. Jack thought of his journey again\nand again, but still he could not summon resolution enough to break it\nto his mother, being well assured that she would endeavour to prevent\nhis going. However, one day he told her boldly that he must take a\njourney up the bean-stalk; she begged and prayed him not to think of it,\nand tried all in her power to dissuade him: she told him that the\ngiant's wife would certainly know him again, and that the giant would\ndesire nothing better than to get him into his power, that he might put\nhim to a cruel death, in order to be revenged for the loss of his hen.\nJack, finding that all his arguments were useless, pretended to give up\nthe point, though resolved to go at all events. He had a dress prepared\nwhich would disguise him, and something to colour his skin. He thought\nit impossible for any one to recollect him in this dress.\n\nIn a few mornings after this, he arose very early, changed his\ncomplexion, and, unperceived by any one, climbed the bean-stalk a second\ntime. He was greatly fatigued when he reached the top, and very hungry.\nHaving rested some time on one of the stones, he pursued his journey to\nthe giant's mansion. He reached it late in the evening: the woman was at\nthe door as before. Jack addressed her, at the same time telling her a\npitiful tale, and requesting that she would give him some victuals and\ndrink, and also a night's lodging.\n\nShe told him (what he knew before very well) about her husband being a\npowerful and cruel giant; and also that she one night admitted a poor,\nhungry, friendless boy, who was half dead with travelling; that the\nlittle ungrateful fellow had stolen one of the giant's treasures; and,\never since that, her husband had been worse than before, used her very\ncruelly, and continually upbraided her with being the cause of his\nmisfortune. Jack was at no loss to discover that he was attending to the\naccount of a story in which he was the principal actor. He did his best\nto persuade the good woman to admit him, but found it a very hard task.\nAt last she consented; and as she led the way, Jack observed that every\nthing was just as he had found it before. She took him into the kitchen,\nand after he had done eating and drinking, she hid him in an old\nlumber-closet. The giant returned at the usual time, and walked in so\nheavily, that the house was shaken to its foundation. He seated himself\nby the fire, and soon after exclaimed: \"Wife! I smell fresh meat!\" The\nwife replied, it was the crows, who had brought a piece of raw meat, and\nleft it on the top of the house. Whilst supper was preparing, the giant\nwas very ill-tempered and impatient, frequently lifting up his hand to\nstrike his wife, for not being quick enough; she, however, was always so\nfortunate as to elude the blow. He was also continually up-braiding her\nwith the loss of his wonderful hen. The giant at last having ended his\nvoracious supper, and eaten till he was quite satisfied, said to his\nwife: \"I must have something to amuse me; either my bags of money or my\nharp.\" After a great deal of ill-humour, and having teased his wife some\nhe commanded her to bring down his bags of gold and silver. Jack, as\nbefore, peeped out of his hiding-place, and presently his wife brought\ntwo bags into the room: they were of a very large size; one was filled\nwith new guineas, and the other with new shillings. They were both\nplaced before the giant, who began reprimanding his poor wife most\nseverely for staying so long; she replied, trembling with fear, that\nthey were so heavy, that she could scarcely lift them; and concluded, at\nlast, that she would never again bring them down stairs; adding, that\nshe had nearly fainted, owing to their weight This so exasperated the\ngiant, that he raised his hand to strike her; she, however, escaped, and\nwent to bed, leaving him to count over his treasure, by way of\namusement. The giant took his bags, and after turning them over and\nover, to see that they were in the same state as he left them, began to\ncount their contents. First, the bag which contained the silver was\nemptied, and the contents placed upon the table. Jack viewed the\nglittering heaps with delight, and most heartily wished them in his own\npossession. The giant (little thinking he was so narrowly watched)\nreckoned the silver over several times; and then, having satisfied\nhimself that all was safe, put it into the bag again, which he made very\nsecure. The other bag was opened next, and the guineas placed upon the\ntable. If Jack was pleased at the sight of the silver, how much more\ndelighted he felt when he saw such a heap of glittering gold! He even\nhad the boldness to think of gaming both bags; but suddenly recollecting\nhimself, he began to fear that the giant would sham sleep, the better to\nentrap any one who might be concealed. When the giant had counted over\nthe gold till he was tired, he put it up, if possible, more secure than\nhe had put up the silver before; he then fell back on his chair by the\nfire-side, and fell asleep. He snored so loud, that Jack compared his\nnoise to the roaring of the sea in a high wind, when the tide is coming\nin. At last, Jack concluded him to be asleep, and therefore secure,\nstole out of his hiding-place, and approached the giant, in order to\ncarry off the two bags of money; but just as he laid his hand upon one\nof the bags, a little dog, whom he had not perceived before, started\nfrom under the giant's chair, and barked at Jack most furiously, who now\ngave himself up for lost. Fear riveted him to the spot. Instead of\nendeavouring to escape, he stood still, though expecting his enemy to\nawake every instant. Contrary, however, to his expectation, the giant\ncontinued in a sound sleep, and the dog grew weary of barking. Jack now\nbegan to recollect himself, and on looking round, saw a large piece of\nmeat; this he threw to the dog, who instantly seized it, and took it\ninto the lumber-closet, which Jack had just left. Finding himself\ndelivered from a noisy and troublesome enemy, and seeing the giant did\nnot awake, Jack boldly seized the bags, and throwing them over his\nshoulders, ran out of the kitchen. He reached the street door in safety,\nand found it quite daylight. In his way to the top of the bean-stalk, he\nfound himself greatly incommoded with the weight of the money-bags; and\nreally they were so heavy that he could scarcely carry them. Jack was\noverjoyed when he found himself near the bean-stalk; he soon reached the\nbottom, and immediately ran to seek his mother; to his great surprise,\nthe cottage was deserted; he ran from one room to another, without being\nable to find any one; he then hastened into the village, hoping to see\nsome of the neighbours, who could inform him where he could find his\nmother. An old woman at last directed him to a neighbouring house, where\nshe was ill of a fever. He was greatly shocked on finding her apparently\ndying, and could scarcely bear his own reflections, on knowing himself\nto be the cause. On being informed of our hero's safe return, his\nmother, by degrees, revived, and gradually recovered. Jack presented her\nwith his two valuable bags. They lived happily and comfortably; the\ncottage was rebuilt, and well furnished.\n\nFor three years Jack heard no more of the bean-stalk, but he could not\nforget it; though he feared making his mother unhappy. She would not\nmention the hated bean-stalk, lest it should remind him of taking\nanother journey. Notwithstanding the comforts Jack enjoyed at home, his\nmind dwelt continually upon the bean-stalk; for the fairy's menaces, in\ncase of his disobedience, were ever present to his mind, and prevented\nhim from being happy; he could think of nothing else. It was in vain\nendeavouring to amuse himself; he became thoughtful, and would arise at\nthe first dawn of day, and view the bean-stalk for hours together. His\nmother saw that something preyed heavily upon his mind, and endeavoured\nto discover the cause; but Jack knew too well what the consequence would\nbe, should she succeed. He did his utmost, therefore, to conquer the\ngreat desire he had for another journey up the bean-stalk. Finding,\nhowever, that his inclination grew too powerful for him, he began to\nmake secret preparations for his journey, and on the longest day, arose\nas soon as it was light, ascended the bean-stalk, and reached the top\nwith some little trouble. He found the road, journey, etc., much as it\nwas on the two former times; he arrived at the giant's mansion in the\nevening, and found his wife standing, as usual, at the door. Jack had\ndisguised himself so completely, that she did not appear to have the\nleast recollection of him; however, when he pleaded hunger and poverty,\nin order to gain admittance, he found it very difficult to persuade her.\nAt last he prevailed, and was concealed in the copper. When the giant\nreturned, he said, \"I smell fresh meat!\" But Jack felt quite composed,\nas he had said so before, and had been soon satisfied. However, the\ngiant started up suddenly, and, notwithstanding all his wife could say,\nhe searched all round the room. Whilst this was going forward, Jack was\nexceedingly terrified, and ready to die with fear, wishing himself at\nhome a thousand times; but when the giant approached the copper, and put\nhis hand upon the lid, Jack thought his death was certain. The giant\nended his search there, without moving the lid, and seated himself\nquietly by the fire-side. This fright nearly overcame poor Jack; he was\nafraid of moving or even breathing, lest he should be discovered. The\ngiant at last ate a hearty supper. When he had finished, he commanded\nhis wife to fetch down his harp. Jack peeped under the copper-lid, and\nsoon saw the most beautiful harp that could be imagined: it was placed\nby the giant on the table, who said, \"Play!\" and it instantly played of\nits own accord, without being touched. The music was uncommonly fine.\nJack was delighted, and felt more anxious to get the harp into his\npossession, than either of the former treasures. The giant's soul was\nnot attuned to harmony, and the music soon lulled him into a sound\nsleep. Now, therefore, was the time to carry off the harp, as the giant\nappeared to be in a more profound sleep than usual Jack soon determined,\ngot out of the copper, and seized the harp, The harp was enchanted by a\nfairy: it called out loudly: \"Master! master!\" The giant awoke, stood\nup, and tried to pursue Jack; but he had drank so much, that he could\nhardly stand. Poor Jack ran as fast as he could. In a little time the\ngiant recovered sufficiently to walk slowly, or rather, to reel after\nhim. Had he been sober, he must have overtaken Jack instantly; but, as\nhe then was, Jack contrived to be first at the top of the bean-stalk.\nThe giant called after him in a voice like thunder, and sometimes was\nvery near him. The moment Jack got down the bean-stalk he called out for\na hatchet; one was brought him directly; just at that instant, the giant\nwas beginning to descend; but Jack, with his hatchet, cut the bean-stalk\nclose off at the root, which made the giant fall headlong into the\ngarden: the fall killed him, thereby releasing the world from a\nbarbarous enemy. Jack's mother was delighted when she saw the bean-stalk\ndestroyed. At this instant the fairy appeared: she first addressed\nJack's mother and explained every circumstance relating to the journeys\nup the bean-stalk. The fairy charged Jack to be dutiful to his mother,\nand to follow his father's good example, which was the only way to be\nhappy. She then disappeared. Jack heartily begged his mother's pardon\nfor all the sorrow and affliction he had caused her, promising most\nfaithfully to be very dutiful and obedient to her for the future.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII\n\nJACK THE GIANT KILLER\n\n\nIn the reign of the famous King Arthur, there lived near the Land's End\nof England, in the county of Cornwall, a worthy farmer, who had an only\nson named Jack. Jack was a boy of a bold temper; he took pleasure in\nhearing or reading stories of wizards, conjurers, giants, and fairies,\nand used to listen eagerly while his father talked of the great deeds of\nthe brave knights of King Arthur's Round Table. When Jack was sent to\ntake care of the sheep and oxen in the fields, he used to amuse himself\nwith planning battles, sieges, and the means to conquer or surprise a\nfoe. He was above the common sports of children; but hardly any one\ncould equal him at wrestling; or, if he met with a match for himself in\nstrength, his skill and address always made him the victor. In those\ndays there lived on St. Michael's Mount of Cornwall, which rises out of\nthe sea at some distance from the main land, a huge giant. He was\neighteen feet high, and three yards round; and his fierce and savage\nlooks were the terror of all his neighbours. He dwelt in a gloomy cavern\non the very top of the mountain, and used to wade over to the main land\nin search of his prey. When he came near, the people left their houses;\nand after he had glutted his appetite upon their cattle, he would throw\nhalf-a-dozen oxen upon his back, and tie three times as many sheep and\nhogs round his waist, and so march back to his own abode. The giant had\ndone this for many years, and the coast of Cornwall was greatly hurt by\nhis thefts, when Jack boldly resolved to destroy him. He therefore took\na horn, a shovel, pickaxe, and a dark lantern, and early in a long\nwinter's evening he swam to the mount. There he fell to work at once,\nand before morning he had dug a pit twenty-two feet deep, and almost as\nmany broad. He covered it over with sticks and straw, and strewed some\nof the earth over them, to make it look just like solid ground. He then\nput his horn to his mouth, and blew such a loud and long tantivy, that\nthe giant awoke and came towards Jack, roaring like thunder: \"You saucy\nvillain, you shall pay dearly for breaking my rest; I will broil you for\nmy breakfast.\" He had scarcely spoken these words, when he came\nadvancing one step farther; but then he tumbled headlong into the pit,\nand his fall shook the very mountain. \"O ho, Mr. Giant!\" said Jack,\nlooking into the pit, \"have you found your way so soon to the bottom?\nHow is your appetite now? Will nothing serve you for breakfast this cold\nmorning but broiling poor Jack?\" The giant now tried to rise, but Jack\nstruck him a blow on the crown of the head with his pickaxe, which\nkilled him at once. Jack then made haste back to rejoice his friends\nwith the news of the giant's death. When the justices of Cornwall heard\nof this valiant action, they sent for Jack, and declared that he should\nalways be called Jack the Giant Killer; and they also gave him a sword\nand belt, upon which was written in letters of gold:\n\n  \"This is the valiant Cornishman\n   Who slew the Giant Cormoran.\"\n\nThe news of Jack's exploits soon spread over the western parts of\nEngland; and another giant, called Old Blunderbore, vowed to have\nrevenge on Jack, if it should ever be his fortune to get him into his\npower. This giant kept an enchanted castle in the midst of a lonely\nwood. About four months after the death of Cormoran, as Jack was taking\na journey into Wales, he passed through this wood; and as he was very\nweary, he sat down to rest by the side of a pleasant fountain, and there\nhe fell into a deep sleep. The giant came to the fountain for water just\nat this time, and found Jack there; and as the lines on Jack's belt\nshowed who he was, the giant lifted him up and laid him gently upon his\nshoulder to carry him to his castle: but as he passed through the\nthicket, the rustling of the leaves waked Jack; and he was sadly afraid\nwhen he found himself in the clutches of Blunderbore. Yet this was\nnothing to his fright soon after; for when they reached the castle, he\nbeheld the floor covered all over with the skulls and bones of men and\nwomen. The giant took him into a large room where lay the hearts and\nlimbs of persons who had been lately killed; and he told Jack, with a\nhorrid grin, that men's hearts, eaten with pepper and vinegar, were his\nnicest food; and also, that he thought he should make a dainty meal on\nhis heart. When he had said this, he locked Jack up in that room, while\nhe went to fetch another giant who lived in the same wood, to enjoy a\ndinner off Jack's flesh with him. While he was away, Jack heard dreadful\nshrieks, groans, and cries, from many parts of the castle; and soon\nafter he heard a mournful voice repeat these lines:\n\n  \"Haste, valiant stranger, haste away,\n   Lest you become the giant's prey.\n   On his return he'll bring another,\n   Still more savage than his brother:\n   A horrid, cruel monster, who,\n   Before he kills, will torture you.\n   Oh valiant stranger, haste away,\n   Or you'll become these giants' prey.\"\n\nThis warning was so shocking to poor Jack, that he was ready to go mad.\nHe ran to the window, and saw the two giants coming along arm in arm.\nThis window was right over the gates of the castle. \"Now,\" thought Jack,\n\"either my death or freedom is at hand.\" There were two strong cords in\nthe room: Jack made a large noose with a slip-knot at the ends of both\nthese, and as the giants were coming through the gates, he threw the\nropes over their heads. He then made the other ends fast to a beam in\nthe ceiling, and pulled with all his might till he had almost strangled\nthem. When he saw that they were both quite black in the face, and had\nnot the least strength left, he drew his sword, and slid down the ropes;\nhe then killed the giants, and thus saved himself from the cruel death\nthey meant to put him to. Jack next took a great bunch of keys from the\npocket of Blunderbore, and went into the castle again. He made a strict\nsearch through all the rooms; and in them found three ladies tied up by\nthe hair of their heads, and almost starved to death. They told him that\ntheir husbands had been killed by the giants, who had then condemned\nthem to be starved to death, because they would not eat the flesh of\ntheir own dead husbands. \"Ladies,\" said Jack, \"I have put an end to the\nmonster and his wicked brother; and I give you this castle and all the\nriches it contains, to make you some amends for the dreadful pains you\nhave felt.\" He then very politely gave them the keys of the castle, and\nwent further on his journey to Wales. As Jack had not taken any of the\ngiant's riches for himself, and so had very little money of his own, he\nthought it best to travel as fast as he could. At length he lost his\nway, and when night came on he was in a lonely valley between two lofty\nmountains, where he walked about for some hours without seeing any\ndwelling place, so he thought himself very lucky at last, in finding a\nlarge and handsome house.\n\nHe went up to it boldly, and knocked loudly at the gate, when, to his\ngreat terror and surprise, there came forth a monstrous giant with two\nheads. He spoke to Jack very civilly, for he was a Welsh giant, and all\nthe mischief he did was by private and secret malice, under the show of\nfriendship and kindness. Jack told him that he was a traveller who had\nlost his way, on which the huge monster made him welcome, and led him\ninto a room, where there was a good bed to pass the night in. Jack took\noff his clothes quickly; but though he was so weary he could not go to\nsleep. Soon after this he heard the giant walking backward and forward\nin the next room, and saying to himself:\n\n  \"Though here you lodge with me this night,\n   You shall not see the morning light;\n   My club shall dash your brains out quite.\"\n\n\"Say you so?\" thought Jack; \"are these your tricks upon travellers? But\nI hope to prove as cunning as you.\" Then getting out of bed, he groped\nabout the room, and at last found a large thick billet of wood; he laid\nit in his own place in the bed, and then hid himself in a dark corner of\nthe room. In the middle of the night the giant came with his great club,\nand struck many heavy blows on the bed, in the very place where Jack had\nlaid the billet, and then he went back to his own room, thinking he had\nbroken all his bones. Early in the morning, Jack put a bold face upon\nthe matter, and walked into the giant's room to thank him for his\nlodgings. The giant started when he saw him, and he began to stammer\nout, \"Oh, dear me! Is it you? Pray, how did you sleep last night? Did\nyou hear or see any thing in the dead of the night?\" \"Nothing worth\nspeaking of,\" said Jack carelessly; \"a rat, I believe, gave me three or\nfour slaps with his tail, and disturbed me a little; but I soon went to\nsleep again.\" The giant wondered more and more at this; yet he did not\nanswer a word, but went to bring two great bowls of hasty-pudding for\ntheir breakfast. Jack wished to make the giant believe that he could eat\nas much as himself. So he contrived to button a leathern bag inside his\ncoat, and slipped the hasty-pudding into this bag, while he seemed to\nput it into his mouth. When breakfast was over, he said to the giant:\n\"Now I will show you a fine trick; I can cure all wounds with a touch; I\ncould cut off my head one minute, and the next, put it sound again on my\nshoulders: you shall see an example.\" He then took hold of the knife,\nripped up the leathern bag, and all the hasty-pudding tumbled out upon\nthe floor. \"Ods splutter hur nails,\" cried the Welsh giant, who was\nashamed to be outdone by such a little fellow as Jack, \"hur can do that\nhurself.\" So he snatched up the knife, plunged it into his stomach, and\nin a moment dropped down dead.\n\nAs soon as Jack had thus tricked the Welsh monster, he went farther on\nhis journey; and a few days after he met with King Arthur's only son,\nwho had got his father's leave to travel into Wales, to deliver a\nbeautiful lady from the power of a wicked magician, who held her in his\nenchantments. When Jack found that the young prince had no servants with\nhim, he begged leave to attend him; and the prince at once agreed to\nthis, and gave Jack many thanks for his kindness. The prince was a\nhandsome, polite, and brave knight, and so good-natured that he gave\nmoney to every body he met. At length he gave his last penny to an old\nwoman, and then turned to Jack, and said: \"How shall we be able to get\nfood for ourselves the rest of our journey?\" \"Leave that to me sir,\"\nsaid Jack; \"I will provide for my prince.\" Night now came on, and the\nprince began to grow uneasy at thinking where they should lodge. \"Sir,\"\nsaid Jack, \"be of good heart; two miles farther there lives a large\ngiant, whom I know well. He has three heads, and will fight five hundred\nmen, and make them fly before him.\" \"Alas!\" replied the king's son, \"we\nhad better never have been born than meet with such a monster.\" \"My\nlord, leave me to manage him, and wait here in quiet till I return.\" The\nprince now staid behind, while Jack rode on full speed. And when he came\nto the gates of the castle, he gave a loud knock. The giant, with a\nvoice like thunder, roared out: \"Who is there?\" And Jack made answer,\nand said: \"No one but your poor cousin Jack.\" \"Well,\" said the giant,\n\"what news, cousin Jack?\" \"Dear uncle,\" said Jack, \"I have some heavy\nnews.\" \"Pooh!\" said the giant, \"what heavy news can come to me? I am a\ngiant with three heads; and can fight five hundred men, and make them\nfly before me.\" \"Alas!\" said Jack, \"Here is the king's son, coming with\ntwo thousand men, to kill you, and to destroy the castle and all that\nyou have.\" \"Oh, cousin Jack,\" said the giant, \"This is heavy news\nindeed! But I have a large cellar under ground, where I will hide\nmyself, and you shall lock, and bar me in, and keep the keys till the\nking's son is gone.\"\n\nNow when Jack had made the giant fast in the vault, he went back and\nfetched the prince to the castle; they both made themselves merry with\nthe wine and other dainties that were in the house. So that night they\nrested very pleasantly, while the poor giant lay trembling and shaking\nwith fear in the cellar under ground. Early in the morning, Jack gave\nthe king's son gold and silver out of the giant's treasure, and set him\nthree miles forward on his journey. He then went to let his uncle out of\nthe hole, who asked Jack what he should give him as a reward for saving\nhis castle. \"Why, good uncle,\" said Jack, \"I desire nothing but the old\ncoat and cap, with the old rusty sword and slippers, which are hanging\nat your bed's head,\" Then said the giant: \"You shall have them; and pray\nkeep them for my sake, for they are things of great use: the coat will\nkeep you invisible, the cap will give you knowledge, the sword cut\nthrough anything, and the shoes are of vast swiftness; these may be\nuseful to you in all times of danger, so take them with all my heart.\"\nJack gave many thanks to the giant, and then set off to the prince. When\nhe had come up with the king's son, they soon arrived at the dwelling of\nthe beautiful lady, who was under the power of a wicked magician. She\nreceived the prince very politely, and made a noble feast for him; and\nwhen it was ended, she rose, and wiping her mouth with a fine\nhandkerchief, said: \"My lord, you must submit to the custom of my\npalace; to-morrow morning I command you to tell me on whom I bestow this\nhandkerchief or lose your head.\" She then went out of the room. The\nyoung prince went to bed very mournful: but Jack put on his cap of\nknowledge, which told him that the lady was forced, by the power of\nenchantment, to meet the wicked magician every night in the middle of\nthe forest. Jack now put on his coat of darkness, and his shoes of\nswiftness, and was there before her. When the lady came, she gave the\nhandkerchief to the magician. Jack with his sword of sharpness, at one\nblow, cut off his head; the enchantment was then ended in a moment, and\nthe lady was restored to her former virtue and goodness.\n\nShe was married to the prince on the next day, and soon after went back\nwith her royal husband, and a great company, to the court of King\nArthur, where they were received with loud and joyful welcomes; and the\nvaliant hero Jack, for the many great exploits he had done for the good\nof his country, was made one of the Knights of the Round Table. As Jack\nhad been so lucky in all his adventures, he resolved not to be idle for\nthe future, but still to do what services he could for the honour of the\nking and the nation. He therefore humbly begged his majesty to furnish\nhim with a horse and money, that he might travel in search of new and\nstrange exploits. \"For,\" said he to the king, \"there are many giants yet\nliving in the remote parts of Wales, to the great terror and distress of\nyour majesty's subjects; therefore if it please you, sire, to favour me\nin my design, I will soon rid your kingdom of these giants and monsters\nin human shape.\" Now when the king heard this offer, and began to think\nof the cruel deeds of these blood-thirsty giants and savage monsters, he\ngave Jack every thing proper for such a journey. After this Jack took\nleave of the king, the prince, and all the knights, and set off; taking\nwith him his cap of knowledge, his sword of sharpness, his shoes of\nswiftness, and his invisible coat, the better to perform the great\nexploits that might fall in his way. He went along over high hills and\nlofty mountains, and on the third day he came to a large wide forest,\nthrough which his road led. He had hardly entered the forest, when on a\nsudden he heard very dreadful shrieks and cries. He forced his way\nthrough the trees, and saw a monstrous giant dragging along by the hair\nof their heads a handsome knight and his beautiful lady. Their tears and\ncries melted the heart of honest Jack to pity and compassion; he\nalighted from his horse, and tying him to an oak tree he put on his\ninvisible coat, under which he carried his sword of sharpness.\n\nWhen he came up to the giant, he made several strokes at him, but could\nnot reach his body, on account of the enormous height of the terrible\ncreature, but he wounded his thighs in several places; and at length,\nputting both hands to his sword, and aiming with all his might, he cut\noff both the giant's legs just below the garter; and the trunk of his\nbody tumbling to the ground, made not only the trees shake, but the\nearth itself tremble with the force of his fall. Then Jack, setting his\nfoot upon his neck, exclaimed, \"Thou barbarous and savage wretch, behold\nI come to execute upon thee the just reward for all thy crimes;\" and\ninstantly plunged his sword into the giant's body. The huge monster gave\na hideous groan, and yielded up his life into the hands of the\nvictorious Jack the Giant Killer, whilst the noble knight and the\nvirtuous lady were both joyful spectators of his sudden death and their\ndeliverance. The courteous knight and his fair lady, not only returned\nJack hearty thanks for their deliverance, but also invited him to their\nhouse, to refresh himself after his dreadful encounter, as likewise to\nreceive a reward for his good services. \"No,\" said Jack, \"I cannot be at\nease till I find out the den that was the monster's habitation.\" The\nknight on hearing this grew very sorrowful, and replied, \"Noble\nstranger, it is too much to run a second hazard; this monster lived in a\nden under yonder mountain, with a brother of his, more fierce and cruel\nthan himself; therefore, if you should go thither, and perish in the\nattempt, it would be a heart-breaking thing to me and my lady; so let me\npersuade you to go with us, and desist from any farther pursuit.\" \"Nay,\"\nanswered Jack, \"if there be another, even if there were twenty, I would\nshed the last drop of blood in my body before one of them should escape\nmy fury. When I have finished this task, I will come and pay my respects\nto you.\" So when they had told him where to find them again, he got on\nhis horse and went after the dead giant's brother.\n\nJack had not rode a mile and a half, before he came in sight of the\nmouth of the cavern; and nigh the entrance of it, he saw the other giant\nsitting on a huge block of fine timber, with a knotted iron club lying\nby his side, waiting for his brother. His eyes looked like flames of\nfire, his face was grim and ugly, and his cheeks seemed like two\nflitches of bacon; the bristles of his beard seemed to be thick rods of\niron wire; and his long locks of hair hung down upon his broad shoulders\nlike curling snakes. Jack got down from his horse, and turned him into a\nthicket; then he put on his coat of darkness, and drew a little nearer\nto behold this figure, and said softly: \"Oh, monster! are you there? It\nwill not be long before I shall take you fast by the beard.\" The giant\nall this while, could not see him, by reason of his invisible coat: so\nJack came quite close to him, and struck a blow at his head with his\nsword of sharpness, but he missed his aim, and only cut off his nose,\nwhich made him roar like loud claps of thunder. And though he rolled his\nglaring eyes round on every side, he could not see who had given him the\nblow; yet he took up his iron club, and began to lay about him like one\nthat was mad with pain and fury.\n\n\"Nay,\" said Jack, \"if this be the case I will kill you at once.\" So\nsaying, he slipped nimbly behind him, and jumping upon the block of\ntimber, as the giant rose from it, he stabbed him in the back; when,\nafter a few howls, he dropped down dead. Jack cut off his head, and sent\nit with the head of his brother, whom he had killed before in the\nforest, to King Arthur, by a wagon which he hired for that purpose, with\nan account of all his exploits. When Jack had thus killed these two\nmonsters, he went into their cave in search of their treasure: he passed\nthrough many turnings and windings, which led him to a room paved with\nfreestone; at the end of it was a boiling caldron, and on the right hand\nstood a large table where the giants used to dine. He then came to a\nwindow that was secured with iron bars, through which he saw a number of\nwretched captives, who cried out when they saw Jack, \"Alas! alas! young\nman, you are come to be one among us in this horrid den.\" \"I hope,\" said\nJack, \"you will not stay here long; but pray tell me what is the meaning\nof your being here at all?\" \"Alas!\" said one poor old man, \"I will tell\nyou, sir. We are persons that have been taken by the giants who hold\nthis cave, and are kept till they choose to have a feast, then one of us\nis to be killed, and cooked to please their taste. It is not long since\nthey took three for the same purpose.\" \"Well,\" said Jack, \"I have given\nthem such a dinner that it will be long enough before they have any\nmore.\" The captives were amazed at his words. \"You may believe me,\" said\nJack; \"for I have killed them both with the edge of the sword, and have\nsent their large heads to the court of King Arthur, as marks of my great\nsuccess.\"\n\nTo show them that what he said was true, he unlocked the gate, and set\nthem all free. Then he led them to the great room, placed them round the\ntable, and set before them two quarters of beef, with bread and wine;\nupon which they feasted to their fill. When supper was over, they\nsearched the giants' coffers, and Jack shared the store in them among\nthe captives, who thanked him for their escape. The next morning they\nset off to their homes, and Jack to the knight's house, whom he had left\nwith his lady not long before. It was just at the time of sunrise that\nJack mounted his horse to proceed on his journey.\n\nHe arrived at the knight's house, where he was received with the\ngreatest joy by the thankful knight and his lady, who, in honour of\nJack's exploits, gave a grand feast, to which all the nobles and gentry\nwere invited. When the company were assembled, the knight declared to\nthem the great actions of Jack, and gave him, as a mark of respect, a\nfine ring, on which was engraved the picture of the giant dragging the\nknight and the lady by the hair, with this motto round it:\n\n  \"Behold, in dire distress were we,\n    Under a giant's fierce command;\n   But gained our lives and liberty,\n    From valiant Jack's victorious hand.\"\n\nAmong the guests then present were five aged gentlemen, who were fathers\nto some of those captives who had been freed by Jack from the dungeon of\nthe giants. As soon as they heard that he was the person who had done\nsuch wonders, they pressed round him with tears of joy, to return him\nthanks for the happiness he had caused to them. After this the bowl went\nround, and every one drank to the health and long life of the gallant\nhero. Mirth increased, and the hall was filled with peals of laughter\nand joyful cries. But, on a sudden, a herald, pale and breathless with\nhaste and terror, rushed into the midst of the company, and told them\nthat Thundel, a savage giant with two heads, had heard of the death of\nhis two kinsmen, and was come to take his revenge on Jack; and that he\nwas now within a mile of the house; the people flying before him like\nchaff before the wind. At this news the very boldest of the guests\ntrembled; but Jack drew his sword, and said: \"Let him come, I have a rod\nfor him also. Pray, ladies and gentlemen, do me the favour to walk into\nthe garden, and you shall soon behold the giant's defeat and death.\" To\nthis they all agreed, and heartily wished him success in his dangerous\nattempt. The knight's house stood in the middle of a moat, thirty feet\ndeep and twenty wide, over which lay a drawbridge. Jack set men to work\nto cut the bridge on both sides, almost to the middle; and then dressed\nhimself in his coat of darkness, and went against the giant with his\nsword of sharpness. As he came close to him, though the giant could not\nsee him, for his invisible coat, yet he found some danger was near,\nwhich made him cry out:\n\n  \"Fa, fe, fi, fo, fum,\n   I smell the blood of an Englishman;\n   Let him be alive, or let him be dead,\n   I'll grind his bones to make me bread.\"\n\n\"Say you so my friend?\" said Jack, \"you are a monstrous miller indeed.\"\n\"Art thou,\" cried the giant, \"the villain that killed my kinsmen? Then I\nwill tear thee with my teeth, and grind thy bones to powder.\" \"You must\ncatch me first,\" said Jack; and throwing off his coat of darkness, and\nputting on his shoes of swiftness, he began to run; the giant following\nhim like a walking castle, making the earth shake at every step.\n\nJack led him round and round the walls of the house, that the company\nmight see the monster; and to finish the work Jack ran over the\ndrawbridge, the giant going after him with his club. But when the giant\ncame to the middle, where the bridge had been cut on both sides, the\ngreat weight of his body made it break, and he tumbled into the water,\nand rolled about like a large whale. Jack now stood by the side of the\nmoat, and laughed and jeered at him, saying: \"I think you told me, you\nwould grind my bones to powder. When will you begin?\" The giant foamed\nat both his horrid mouths with fury, and plunged from side to side of\nthe moat; but he could not get out to have revenge on his little foe. At\nlast Jack ordered a cart rope to be brought to him. He then drew it over\nhis two heads, and by the help of a team of horses, dragged him to the\nedge of the moat, where he cut off the monster's heads; and before he\neither eat or drank, he sent them both to the court of King Arthur. He\nthen went back to the table with the company, and the rest of the day\nwas spent in mirth and good cheer. After staying with the knight for\nsome time, Jack grew weary of such an idle life, and set out again in\nsearch of new adventures. He went over the hills and dales without\nmeeting any, till he came to the foot of a very high mountain. Here he\nknocked at the door of a small and lonely house; and an old man, with a\nhead as white as snow, let him in. \"Good father\" said Jack, \"can you\nlodge a traveller who has lost his way?\" \"Yes,\" said the hermit, \"I can,\nif you will accept such fare as my poor house affords.\" Jack entered,\nand the old man set before him some bread and fruit for his supper. When\nJack had eaten as much as he chose, the hermit said, \"My son, I know you\nare the famous conqueror of giants; now, on the top of this mountain is\nan enchanted castle, kept by a giant named Galligantus, who, by the help\nof a vile magician, gets many knights into his castle, where he changes\nthem into the shape of beasts. Above all I lament the hard fate of a\nduke's daughter, whom they seized as she was walking in her father's\ngarden, and brought hither through the air in a chariot drawn by two\nfiery dragons, and turned her into the shape of a deer. Many knights\nhave tried to destroy the enchantment, and deliver her; yet none have\nbeen able to do it, by reason of two fiery griffins who guard the gate\nof the castle, and destroy all who come nigh. But as you, my son, have\nan invisible coat, you may pass by them without being seen; and on the\ngates of the castle, you will find engraved, by what means the\nenchantment may be broken.\"\n\nJack promised, that in the morning, at the risk of his life he would\nbreak the enchantment: and after a sound sleep he arose early, put on\nhis invisible coat, and got ready for the attempt. When he had climbed\nto the top of the mountain, he saw the two fiery griffins; but he passed\nbetween them without the least fear of danger; for they could not see\nhim because of his invisible coat. On the castle gate he found a golden\ntrumpet, under which were written these lines:\n\n  \"Whoever can this trumpet blow,\n   Shall cause the giant's overthrow.\"\n\nAs soon as Jack had read this, he seized the trumpet, and blew a shrill\nblast which made the gates fly open and the very castle itself tremble.\nThe giant and the conjurer now knew that their wicked course was at an\nend, and they stood biting their thumbs and shaking with fear. Jack,\nwith his sword of sharpness, soon killed the giant. The magician was\nthen carried away by a whirlwind and every knight and beautiful lady,\nwho had been changed into birds and beasts, returned to their proper\nshapes. The castle vanished away like smoke and the head of the giant\nGalligantus was sent to King Arthur. The knights and ladies rested that\nnight at the old man's hermitage, and next day they set out for the\ncourt. Jack then went up to the king, and gave his majesty an account of\nall his fierce battles. Jack's fame had spread through the whole\ncountry; and at the king's desire, the duke gave him his daughter in\nmarriage, to the joy of all the kingdom. After this the king gave him a\nlarge estate; on which he and his lady lived the rest of their days, in\njoy and content.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX\n\nLITTLE RED RIDING HOOD\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived in a village a country girl, who was the\nsweetest little creature that ever was seen; her mother naturally loved\nher with excessive fondness, and her grandmother doted on her still\nmore. The good woman had made for her a pretty little red-coloured hood,\nwhich so much became the little girl, that every one called her Little\nRed Riding Hood.\n\nOne day her mother having made some cheesecakes, said to her, \"Go, my\nchild, and see how your grandmother does, for I hear she is ill; carry\nher some of these cakes, and a little pot of butter.\" Little Red Riding\nHood straight set out with a basket filled with the cakes and the pot of\nbutter, for her grandmother's house, which was in a village a little way\noff the town that her mother lived in. As she was crossing a wood, which\nlay in her road, she met a large wolf, which had a great mind to eat her\nup, but dared not, for fear of some wood-cutters, who were at work near\nthem in the forest. Yet he spoke to her, and asked her whither she was\ngoing. The little girl, who did not know the danger of talking to a\nwolf, replied: \"I am going to see my grandmamma, and carry these cakes\nand a pot of butter.\" \"Does she live far off?\" said the wolf. \"Oh yes!\"\nanswered Little Red Riding Hood; \"beyond the mill you see yonder, at the\nfirst house in the village.\" \"Well,\" said the wolf, \"I will take this\nway, and you take that, and see which will be there the soonest.\"\n\nThe wolf set out full speed, running as fast as he could, and taking the\nnearest way, while the little girl took the longest; and as she went\nalong began to gather nuts, run after butterflies, and make nose-gays of\nsuch flowers as she found within her reach. The wolf got to the dwelling\nof the grandmother first, and knocked at the door. \"Who is there?\" said\nsome voice in the house. \"It is your grandchild, Little Red Riding\nHood,\" said the wolf, speaking like the little girl as well as he could.\n\"I have brought you some cheesecakes, and a little pot of butter, that\nmamma has sent you.\" The good old woman, who was ill in bed, called out,\n\"Pull the bobbin, and the latch will go up.\" The wolf pulled the bobbin,\nand the door went open. The wolf then jumped upon the poor old\ngrandmother, and ate her up in a moment, for it was three days since he\nhad tasted any food. The wolf then shut the door, and laid himself down\nin the bed, and waited for Little Red Riding Hood, who very soon after\nreached the house. Tap! tap! \"Who is there?\" cried he. She was at first\na little afraid at hearing the gruff voice of the wolf, but she thought\nthat perhaps her grandmother had got a cold, so she answered: \"It is\nyour grandchild, Little Red Riding Hood. Mamma has sent you some\ncheesecakes, and a little pot of butter.\" The wolf cried out in a softer\nvoice, \"Pull the bobbin, and the latch will go up.\" Little Red Riding\nHood pulled the bobbin, and the door went open. When she came into the\nroom, the wolf hid himself under the bedclothes, and said to her, trying\nall he could to speak in a feeble voice: \"Put the basket on the stool,\nmy dear, and take off your clothes, and come into bed.\" Little Red\nRiding Hood, who always used to do as she was told, straight undressed\nherself, and stepped into bed; but she thought it strange to see how her\ngrandmother looked in her nightclothes, so she said to her: \"Dear me,\ngrandmamma, what great arms you have got!\" \"They are so much the better\nto hug you, my child,\" replied the wolf. \"But grandmamma,\" said the\nlittle girl, \"what great ears you have got!\" \"They are so much the\nbetter to hear you, my child,\" replied the wolf. \"But then, grandmamma,\nwhat great eyes you have got!\" said the little girl. \"They are so much\nthe better to see you, my child,\" replied the wolf. \"And grandmamma,\nwhat great teeth you have got!\" said the little girl, who now began to\nbe rather afraid. \"They are to eat you up,\" said the wolf; and saying\nthese words, the wicked creature fell upon Little Red Riding Hood, and\nate her up in a moment.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX\n\nTHE THREE BEARS\n\n\nIn a far-off country there was once a little girl who was called\nSilver-hair, because her curly hair shone brightly. She was a sad romp,\nand so restless that she could not be kept quiet at home, but must needs\nrun out and away, without leave.\n\nOne day she started off into a wood to gather wild flowers, and into the\nfields to chase butterflies. She ran here and she ran there, and went so\nfar, at last, that she found herself in a lonely place, where she saw a\nsnug little house, in which three bears lived; but they were not then at\nhome.\n\nThe door was ajar, and Silver-hair pushed it open and found the place to\nbe quite empty, so she made up her mind to go in boldly, and look all\nabout the place, little thinking what sort of people lived there.\n\nNow the three bears had gone out to walk a little before this. They were\nthe Big Bear, and the Middle-sized Bear, and the Little Bear; but they\nhad left their porridge on the table to cool. So when Silver-hair came\ninto the kitchen, she saw the three bowls of porridge. She tasted the\nlargest bowl, which belonged to the Big Bear, and found it too cold;\nthen she tasted the middle-sized bowl, which belonged to the\nMiddle-sized Bear, and found it too hot; then she tasted the smallest\nbowl, which belonged to the Little Bear, and it was just right, and she\nate it all.\n\nShe went into the parlour, and there were three chairs. She tried the\nbiggest chair, which belonged to the Big Bear, and found it too high;\nthen she tried the middle-sized chair, which belonged to the\nMiddle-sized Bear, and she found it too broad; then she tried the little\nchair, which belonged to the Little Bear, and found it just right, but\nshe sat in it so hard that she broke it.\n\nNow Silver-hair was by this time very tired, and she went upstairs to\nthe chamber, and there she found three beds. She tried the largest bed,\nwhich belonged to the Big Bear, and found it too soft; then she tried\nthe middle-sized bed, which belonged to the Middle-sized Bear, and she\nfound it too hard; then she tried the smallest bed, which belonged to\nthe Little Bear, and found it just right, so she lay down upon it, and\nfell fast asleep.\n\nWhile Silver-hair was lying fast asleep, the three bears came home from\ntheir walk. They came into the kitchen, to get their porridge, but when\nthe Big Bear went to his, he growled out:\n\n\"SOMEBODY HAS BEEN TASTING MY PORRIDGE!\"\n\nand the Middle-sized Bear looked into his bowl, and said:\n\n\"Somebody Has Been Tasting My Porridge!\"\n\nand the Little Bear piped:\n\n\"_Somebody has tasted my porridge and eaten it all up!_\"\n\nThen they went into the parlour, and the Big Bear growled:\n\n\"SOMEBODY HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY CHAIR!\"\n\nand the Middle-sized Bear said:\n\n\"Somebody Has Been Sitting In My Chair!\"\n\nand the Little Bear piped:\n\n\"_Somebody has been sitting in my chair, and has broken it all to\npieces!_\"\n\nSo they went upstairs into the chamber, and the Big Bear growled:\n\n\"SOMEBODY HAS BEEN TUMBLING MY BED!\"\n\nand the Middle-sized Bear said:\n\n\"Somebody Has Been Tumbling My Bed!\"\n\nand the little Bear piped:\n\n\"_Somebody has been tumbling my bed, and here she is!_\"\n\nAt that, Silver-hair woke in a fright, and jumped out of the window and\nran away as fast as her legs could carry her, and never went near the\nThree Bears' snug little house again.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI\n\nTHE PRINCESS ON THE PEA\n\n\nThere was once a prince who wanted to marry a princess; but she was to\nbe a _real_ princess. So he travelled about, all through the world, to\nfind a real one, but everywhere there was something in the way. There\nwere princesses enough, but whether they were _real_ princesses he could\nnot quite make out: there was always something that did not seem quite\nright. So he came home again, and was quite sad: for he wished so much\nto have a real princess. One evening a terrible storm came on. It\nlightened and thundered, the rain streamed down; it was quite fearful!\nThen there was a knocking at the town gate, and the old king went out to\nopen it.\n\nIt was a princess who stood outside the gate. But, mercy! how she\nlooked, from the rain and the rough weather! The water ran down from her\nhair and her clothes; it ran in at the points of her shoes, and out at\nthe heels; and yet she declared that she was a real princess.\n\n\"Yes, we will soon find that out,\" thought the old queen. But she said\nnothing, only went into the bedchamber, took all the bedding off, and\nput a pea on the flooring of the bedstead; then she took twenty\nmattresses and laid them upon the pea, and then twenty eider-down beds\nupon the mattresses. On this the princess had to lie all night. In the\nmorning she was asked how she had slept.\n\n\"Oh, miserably!\" said the princess. \"I scarcely closed my eyes all night\nlong. Goodness knows what was in my bed. I lay upon something hard, so\nthat I am black and blue all over. It is quite dreadful!\"\n\nNow they saw that she was a real princess, for through the twenty\nmattresses and the twenty eider-down beds she had felt the pea. No one\nbut a real princess could be so delicate.\n\nSo the prince took her for his wife, for now he knew that he had a true\nprincess; and the pea was put in the museum, and it is there now, unless\nsomebody has carried it off.\n\nLook you, this is a true story.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII\n\nTHE UGLY DUCKLING\n\n\nIt was so glorious out in the country; it was summer; the cornfields\nwere yellow, the oats were green, the hay had been put up in stacks in\nthe green meadows, and the stork went about on his long red legs, and\nchattered Egyptian, for this was the language he had learned from his\ngood mother. All around the fields and meadows were great forests, and\nin the midst of these forests lay deep lakes. Yes, it was right glorious\nout in the country. In the midst of the sunshine there lay an old farm,\nwith deep canals about it, and from the wall down to the water grew\ngreat burdocks, so high that little children could stand upright under\nthe loftiest of them. It was just as wild there as in the deepest wood,\nand here sat a Duck upon her nest; she had to hatch her ducklings; but\nshe was almost tired out before the little ones came and then she so\nseldom had visitors. The other ducks liked better to swim about in the\ncanals than to run up to sit down under a burdock, and cackle with her.\n\nAt last one egg-shell after another burst open. \"Piep! piep!\" it cried,\nand in all the eggs there were little creatures that stuck out their\nheads.\n\n\"Quack! quack!\" they said; and they all came quacking out as fast as\nthey could, looking all round them under the green leaves; and the\nmother let them look as much as they chose, for green is good for the\neye.\n\n\"How wide the world is!\" said all the young ones, for they certainly had\nmuch more room now than when they were in the eggs.\n\n\"D'ye think this is all the world?\" said the mother. \"That stretches far\nacross the other side of the garden, quite into the parson's field; but\nI have never been there yet. I hope you are all together,\" and she stood\nup. \"No, I have not all. The largest egg still lies there. How long is\nthat to last? I am really tired of it.\" And she sat down again.\n\n\"Well, how goes it?\" asked an old Duck who had come to pay her a visit.\n\n\"It lasts a long time with that one egg,\" said the Duck who sat there.\n\"It will not burst. Now, only look at the others; are they not the\nprettiest little ducks one could possibly see? They are all like their\nfather. The rogue, he never comes to see me.\"\n\n\"Let me see the egg which will not burst,\" said the old visitor. \"You\nmay be sure it is a turkey's egg. I was once cheated in that way, and\nhad much anxiety and trouble with the young ones, for they are afraid of\nthe water. Must I say it to you, I could not get them to venture in. I\nquacked and I clacked, but it was no use. Let me see the egg. Yes,\nthat's a turkey's egg. Let it lie there, and teach the other children to\nswim.\"\n\n\"I think I will sit on it a little longer,\" said the Duck. \"I've sat so\nlong now that I can sit a few days more.\"\n\n\"Just as you please,\" said the old Duck; and she went away.\n\nAt last the great egg burst. \"Piep! piep!\" said the little one, and\ncrept forth. It was very large and very ugly. The Duck looked at it.\n\n\"It's a very large duckling,\" said she; \"none of the others look like\nthat. Can it really be a turkey chick? Well, we shall soon find out. It\nmust go into the water, even if I have to thrust it in myself.\"\n\nThe next day it was bright, beautiful weather; the sun shone on all the\ngreen trees. The Mother-Duck went down to the canal with all her family.\nSplash! she jumped into the water. \"Quack! quack!\" she said, and one\nduckling after another plunged in. The water closed over their heads,\nbut they came up in an instant, and swam capitally; their legs went of\nthemselves, and they were all in the water. The ugly gray Duckling swam\nwith them.\n\n\"No, it's not a turkey,\" said she; \"look how well it can use its legs,\nand how straight it holds itself. It is my own child! On the whole it's\nquite pretty, if one looks at it rightly. Quack! quack! come with me,\nand I'll lead you out into the great world, and present you in the\nduck-yard; but keep close to me, so that no one may tread on you, and\ntake care of the cats!\"\n\nAnd so they came into the duck-yard. There was a terrible riot going on\nin there, for two families were quarrelling about an eel's head, and the\ncat got it after all.\n\n\"See, that's how it goes in the world!\" said the Mother-Duck; and she\nwhetted her beak, for she too wanted the eel's head. \"Only use your\nlegs,\" she said. \"See that you can bustle about, and bow your heads\nbefore the old Duck yonder. She's the grandest of all here; she's of\nSpanish blood--that's why she's so fat; and d'ye see? she has a red rag\nround her leg; that's something particularly fine, and the greatest\ndistinction a duck can enjoy; it signifies that one does not want to\nlose her, and that she's to be known by the animals and by men too.\nShake yourselves--don't turn in your toes; a well brought-up duck turns\nits toes quite out, just like father and mother--so! Now bend your necks\nand say 'Quack!'\"\n\nAnd they did so: but the other ducks round about looked at them, and\nsaid quite boldly:\n\n\"Look there! now we're to have these hanging on, as if there were not\nenough of us already! And--fie!--how that duckling yonder looks; we\nwon't stand that!\" And one duck flew up at it, and bit it in the neck.\n\n\"Let it alone,\" said the mother; \"it does no harm to any one.\"\n\n\"Yes, but it's too large and peculiar,\" said the Duck who had bitten it;\n\"and therefore it must be put down.\"\n\n\"Those are pretty children that the mother has there,\" said the old Duck\nwith the rag round her leg. \"They're all pretty but that one; that was\nrather unlucky. I wish she could bear it over again.\"\n\n\"That cannot be done, my lady,\" replied the Mother-Duck. \"It is not\npretty, but it has a really good disposition, and swims as well as any\nother; yes, I may even say it, swims better. I think it will grow up\npretty, and become smaller in time; it has lain too long in the egg, and\ntherefore is not properly shaped.\" And then she pinched it in the neck,\nand smoothed its feathers. \"Moreover, it is a drake,\" she said, \"and\ntherefore it is not of so much consequence. I think he will be very\nstrong. He makes his way already.\"\n\n\"The other ducklings are graceful enough,\" said the old Duck. \"Make\nyourself at home; and if you find an eel's head, you may bring it me.\"\n\nAnd now they were at home. But the poor Duckling which had crept last\nout of the egg, and looked so ugly, was bitten and pushed and jeered, as\nmuch by the ducks as by the chickens.\n\n\"It is too big!\" they all said. And the turkey-cock, who had been born\nwith spurs, and therefore thought himself an emperor, blew himself up\nlike a ship in full sail, and bore straight down upon it; then he\ngobbled and grew quite red in the face. The poor Duckling did not know\nwhere it should stand or walk; it was quite melancholy because it looked\nugly, and was the butt of the whole duck-yard.\n\nSo it went on the first day; and afterwards it became worse and worse.\nThe poor Duckling was hunted about by every one; even its brothers and\nsisters were quite angry with it, and said, \"If the cat would only catch\nyou, you ugly creature!\" And the mother said, \"If you were only far\naway!\" And the ducks bit it, and the chickens beat it, and the girl who\nhad to feed the poultry kicked at it with her foot.\n\nThen it ran and flew over the fence, and the little birds in the bushes\nflew up in fear.\n\n\"That is because I am so ugly!\" thought the Duckling; and it shut its\neyes, but flew on farther, and so it came out into the great moor, where\nthe wild ducks lived. Here it lay the whole night long; and it was weary\nand downcast.\n\nTowards morning the wild ducks flew up, and looked at their new\ncompanion.\n\n\"What sort of a one are you?\" they asked; and the Duckling turned in\nevery direction, and bowed as well as it could. \"You are remarkably\nugly!\" said the Wild Ducks. \"But that is nothing to us, so long as you\ndo not marry into our family.\"\n\nPoor thing! it certainly did not think of marrying, and only hoped to\nobtain leave to lie among the reeds and drink some of the swamp water.\n\nThus it lay two whole days; then came thither two wild geese, or,\nproperly speaking, two wild ganders. It was not long since each had\ncrept out of an egg, and that's why they were so saucy.\n\n\"Listen, comrade,\" said one of them. \"You're so ugly that I like you.\nWill you go with us, and become a bird of passage? Near here, in another\nmoor, there are a few sweet lovely wild geese, all unmarried, and all\nable to say 'Rap!' You've a chance of making your fortune, ugly as you\nare.\"\n\n\"Piff! paff!\" resounded through the air; and the two ganders fell down\ndead in the swamp, and the water became blood red. \"Piff! paff!\" it\nsounded again, and the whole flock of wild geese rose up from the reeds.\nAnd then there was another report. A great hunt was going on. The\nsportsmen were lying in wait all round the moor, and some were even\nsitting up in the branches of the trees, which spread far over the\nreeds. The blue smoke rose up like clouds among the dark trees, and was\nwafted far away across the water; and the hunting dogs came--splash,\nsplash!--into the swamp, and the rushes and the reeds bent down on every\nside. That was a fright for the poor Duckling! It turned its head, and\nput it under its wing; but at that moment a frightful great dog stood\nclose by the Duckling. His tongue hung far out of his mouth, and his\neyes gleamed horrible and ugly; he thrust out his nose close against the\nDuckling, showed his sharp teeth, and--splash, splash!--on he went,\nwithout seizing it.\n\n\"Oh, Heaven be thanked!\" sighed the Duckling. \"I am so ugly that even\nthe dog does not like to bite me!\"\n\nAnd so it lay quite quiet, while the shots rattled through the reeds and\ngun after gun was fired. At last, late in the day, all was still; but\nthe poor Duckling did not dare to rise up; it waited several hours\nbefore it looked round, and then hastened away out of the moor as fast\nas it could. It ran on over field and meadow; there was such a storm\nraging that it was difficult to get from one place to another.\n\nTowards evening the Duck came to a little miserable peasant's hut. This\nhut was so dilapidated that it did not itself know on which side it\nshould fall; and that's why it remained standing. The storm whistled\nround the Duckling in such a way that the poor creature was obliged to\nsit down, to stand against it; and the wind blew worse and worse. Then\nthe Duckling noticed that one of the hinges of the door had given way,\nand the door hung so slanting that the Duckling could slip through the\ncrack into the room; and that is what it did.\n\nHere lived a woman, with her Cat and her Hen. And the Cat, whom she\ncalled Sonnie, could arch his back and purr, he could even give out\nsparks; but to make him do it one had to stroke his fur the wrong way.\nThe Hen had quite little, short legs, and therefore she was called\nChickabiddy Short-shanks. She laid good eggs, and the woman loved her\nlike her own child.\n\nIn the morning the strange Duckling was at once noticed, and the Cat\nbegan to purr and the Hen to cluck.\n\n\"What's this?\" said the woman, and looked all round; but she could not\nsee well, and therefore she thought the Duckling was a fat duck that had\nstrayed. \"This is a rare prize!\" she said. \"Now I shall have duck's\neggs. I hope it is not a drake. We must try that.\"\n\nAnd so the Duckling was admitted on trial for three weeks; but no eggs\ncame. And the Cat was master of the House, and the Hen was the lady, and\nalways said, \"We and the world!\" for she thought they were half the\nworld, and by far the better half.\n\nThe Duckling thought one might have a different opinion, but the Hen\nwould not allow it.\n\n\"Can you lay eggs?\" she asked.\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Then will you hold your tongue!\"\n\nAnd the Cat said, \"Can you curve your back, and purr, and give out\nsparks?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Then you will please have no opinion of your own when sensible folks\nare speaking.\"\n\nAnd the Duckling sat in a corner and was melancholy; then the fresh air\nand the sunshine streamed in; and it was seized with such a strange\nlonging to swim on the water, that it could not help telling the Hen of\nit.\n\n\"What are you thinking of?\" cried the Hen. \"You have nothing to do,\nthat's why you have these fancies. Lay eggs, or purr, and they will pass\nover.\"\n\n\"But it is so charming to swim on the water!\" said the Duckling, \"so\nrefreshing to let it close above one's head, and to dive down to the\nbottom.\"\n\n\"Yes, that must be a mighty pleasure, truly,\" quoth the Hen, \"I fancy\nyou must have gone crazy. Ask the Cat about it--he's the cleverest\nanimal I know--ask him if he likes to swim on the water, or to dive\ndown--I won't speak about myself. Ask our mistress, the old woman; no\none in the world is cleverer than she. Do you think she has any desire\nto swim, and to let the water close above her head?\"\n\n\"You don't understand me,\" said the Duckling.\n\n\"We don't understand you? Then pray who is to understand you? You surely\ndon't pretend to be cleverer than the Cat and the woman--I won't say\nanything of myself. Don't be conceited, child, and thank your Maker for\nall the kindness you have received. Did you not get into a warm room,\nand have you not fallen into company from which you may learn something?\nBut you are a chatterer, and it is not pleasant to associate with you.\nYou may believe me, I speak for your good. I tell you disagreeable\nthings, and by that one may always know one's true friends! Only take\ncare that you learn to lay eggs, or to purr, and give out sparks!\"\n\n\"I think I will go out into the wide world,\" said the Duckling.\n\n\"Yes, do go,\" replied the Hen.\n\nAnd so the Duckling went away. It swam on the water, and dived, but it\nwas slighted by every creature because of its ugliness.\n\nNow came the autumn. The leaves in the forest turned yellow and brown;\nthe wind caught them so that they danced about, and up in the air it was\nvery cold. The clouds hung low, heavy with hail and snow-flakes, and on\nthe fence stood the raven, crying, \"Croak! croak!\" for mere cold; yes,\nit was enough to make one feel cold to think of this. The poor little\nDuckling certainly had not a good time. One evening--the sun was just\nsetting in his beauty--there came a whole flock of great, handsome birds\nout of the bushes. They were dazzlingly white, with long, flexible\nnecks--they were swans. They uttered a very peculiar cry, spread forth\ntheir glorious great wings, and flew away from that cold region to\nwarmer lands, to fair open lakes. They mounted so high, so high! and the\nugly Duckling felt quite strangely as it watched them. It turned round\nand round in the water like a wheel, stretched out its neck towards\nthem, and uttered such a strange loud cry as frightened itself. Oh! it\ncould not forget those beautiful, happy birds; and so soon as it could\nsee them no longer, it dived down to the very bottom, and when it came\nup again it was quite beside itself. It knew not the name of those\nbirds, and knew not whither they were flying; but it loved them more\nthan it had ever loved any one. It was not at all envious of them. How\ncould it think of wishing to possess such loveliness as they had? It\nwould have been glad if only the ducks would have endured its\ncompany--the poor, ugly creature!\n\nAnd the winter grew cold, very cold! The Duckling was forced to swim\nabout in the water, to prevent the surface from freezing entirely; but\nevery night the hole in which it swam about became smaller and smaller.\nIt froze so hard that the icy covering crackled again; and the Duckling\nwas obliged to use its legs continually to prevent the hole from\nfreezing up. At last it became exhausted, and lay quite still, and thus\nfroze fast into the ice.\n\nEarly in the morning a peasant came by, and when he saw what had\nhappened, he took his wooden shoe, broke the ice-crust to pieces, and\ncarried the Duckling home to his wife. Then it came to itself again. The\nchildren wanted to play with it; but the Duckling thought they wanted to\nhurt it, and in its terror fluttered up into the milk-pan, so that the\nmilk spurted down into the room. The woman clasped her hands, at which\nthe Duckling flew down into the butter-tub, and then into the\nmeal-barrel and out again. How it looked then! The woman screamed, and\nstruck at it with the fire-tongs; the children tumbled over one another\nin their efforts to catch the Duckling; and they laughed and they\nscreamed!--well it was that the door stood open, and the poor creature\nwas able to slip out between the shrubs into the newly-fallen\nsnow--there it lay quite exhausted.\n\nBut it would be too melancholy if I were to tell all the misery and care\nwhich the Duckling had to endure in the hard winter. It lay out on the\nmoor among the reeds, when the sun began to shine again and the larks to\nsing. It was a beautiful spring.\n\nThen all at once the Duckling could flap its wings. They beat the air\nmore strongly than before, and bore it strongly away; and before it well\nknew how all this happened, it found itself in a great garden, where the\nelder-trees smelt sweet, and bent their long green branches down to the\ncanal that wound through the region. Oh, here it was so beautiful, such\na gladness of spring! and from the thicket came three glorious white\nswans; they rustled their wings, and swam lightly on the water. The\nDuckling knew the splendid creatures, and felt oppressed by a peculiar\nsadness.\n\n\"I will fly away to them, to the royal birds, and they will beat me,\nbecause I, that am so ugly, dare to come near them. But it is all the\nsame. Better to be killed by _them_ than to be pursued by ducks, and\nbeaten by fowls, and pushed about by the girl who takes care of the\npoultry yard, and to suffer hunger in winter!\" And it flew out into the\nwater, and swam towards the beautiful swans; these looked at it, and\ncame sailing down upon it with outspread wings. \"Kill me!\" said the poor\ncreature, and bent its head down upon the water, expecting nothing but\ndeath. But what was this that it saw in the clear water? It beheld its\nown image; and, lo! it was no longer a clumsy dark-gray bird, ugly and\nhateful to look at, but a--swan!\n\nIt matters nothing if one is born in a duck-yard if one has only lain in\na swan's egg.\n\nIt felt quite glad at all the need and misfortune it had suffered, now\nit realised its happiness in all the splendour that surrounded it. And\nthe great swans swam round it, and stroked it with their beaks.\n\nInto the garden came little children, who threw bread and corn into the\nwater; and the youngest cried, \"There is a new one!\" and the other\nchildren shouted joyously, \"Yes, a new one has arrived!\" And they\nclapped their hands and danced about, and ran to their father and\nmother; and bread and cake were thrown into the water; and they all\nsaid, \"The new one is the most beautiful of all! so young and handsome!\"\nand the old swans bowed their heads before him. Then he felt quite\nashamed, and hid his head under his wings, for he did not know what to\ndo; he was so happy, and yet not at all proud. He thought how he had\nbeen persecuted and despised; and now he heard them saying that he was\nthe most beautiful of all birds. Even the elder-tree bent its branches\nstraight down into the water before him, and the sun shone warm and\nmild. Then his wings rustled, he lifted his slender neck, and cried\nrejoicingly from the depths of his heart:\n\n\"I never dreamed of so much happiness when I was the Ugly Duckling!\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII\n\nTHE LIGHT PRINCESS\n\n\nI\n\n_What! No Children?_\n\n\nOnce upon a time, so long ago that I have quite forgotten the date,\nthere lived a king and queen who had no children.\n\nAnd the king said to himself, \"All the queens of my acquaintance have\nchildren, some three, some seven, and some as many as twelve; and my\nqueen has not one. I feel ill-used.\" So he made up his mind to be cross\nwith his wife about it. But she bore it all like a good patient queen as\nshe was. Then the king grew very cross indeed. But the queen pretended\nto take it all as a joke, and a very good one too.\n\n\"Why don't you have any daughters, at least?\" said he. \"I don't say\n_sons_; that might be too much to expect.\"\n\n\"I am sure, dear king, I am very sorry,\" said the queen.\n\n\"So you ought to be,\" retorted the king; \"you are not going to make a\nvirtue of _that_, surely.\"\n\nBut he was not an ill-tempered king, and in any matter of less moment\nwould have let the queen have her own way with all his heart. This,\nhowever, was an affair of State.\n\nThe queen smiled.\n\n\"You must have patience with a lady, you know, dear king,\" said she.\n\nShe was, indeed, a very nice queen, and heartily sorry that she could\nnot oblige the king immediately.\n\nThe king tried to have patience, but he succeeded very badly. It was\nmore than he deserved, therefore, when, at last, the queen gave him a\ndaughter--as lovely a little princess as ever cried.\n\n\nII\n\n_Won't I, Just?_\n\nThe day drew near when the infant must be christened. The king wrote all\nthe invitations with his own hand. Of course somebody was forgotten.\n\nNow it does not generally matter if somebody _is_ forgotten, only you\nmust mind who. Unfortunately, the king forgot without intending to\nforget; and so the chance fell upon the Princess Makemnoit, which was\nawkward. For the princess was the king's own sister; and he ought not to\nhave forgotten her. But she had made herself so disagreeable to the old\nking, their father, that he had forgotten her in making his will; and so\nit was no wonder that her brother forgot her in writing his invitations.\nBut poor relations don't do anything to keep you in mind of them. Why\ndon't they? The king could not see into the garret she lived in, could\nhe?\n\nShe was a sour, spiteful creature. The wrinkles of contempt crossed the\nwrinkles of peevishness, and made her face as full of wrinkles as a pat\nof butter. If ever a king could be justified in forgetting anybody, this\nking was justified in forgetting his sister, even at a christening. She\nlooked very odd, too. Her forehead was as large as all the rest of her\nface, and projected over it like a precipice. When she was angry, her\nlittle eyes flashed blue. When she hated anybody, they shone yellow and\ngreen. What they looked like when she loved anybody, I do not know; for\nI never heard of her loving anybody but herself, and I do not think she\ncould have managed that if she had not somehow got used to herself. But\nwhat made it highly imprudent in the king to forget her was--that she\nwas awfully clever. In fact, she was a witch; and when she bewitched\nanybody, he very soon had enough of it; for she beat all the wicked\nfairies in wickedness, and all the clever ones in cleverness. She\ndespised all the modes we read of in history, in which offended fairies\nand witches have taken their revenges; and therefore, after waiting and\nwaiting in vain for an invitation, she made up her mind at last to go\nwithout one, and make the whole family miserable, like a princess as she\nwas.\n\nSo she put on her best gown, went to the palace, was kindly received by\nthe happy monarch, who forgot that he had forgotten her, and took her\nplace in the procession to the royal chapel. When they were all gathered\nabout the font, she contrived to get next to it, and throw something\ninto the water; after which she maintained a very respectful demeanour\ntill the water was applied to the child's face. But at that moment she\nturned round in her place three times, and muttered the following words,\nloud enough for those beside her to hear:\n\n  \"Light of spirit, by my charms,\n    Light of body, every part,\n   Never weary human arms--\n    Only crush thy parents' heart!\"\n\nThey all thought she had lost her wits, and was repeating some foolish\nnursery rhyme; but a shudder went through the whole of them\nnotwithstanding. The baby, on the contrary, began to laugh and crow;\nwhile the nurse gave a start and a smothered cry, for, she thought she\nwas struck with paralysis: she could not feel the baby in her arms. But\nshe clasped it tight and said nothing.\n\nThe mischief was done.\n\n\nIII\n\n_She Can't Be Ours!_\n\nHer atrocious aunt had deprived the child of all her gravity. If you ask\nme how this was effected, I answer, \"In the easiest way in the world.\nShe had only to destroy gravitation.\" For the princess was a\nphilosopher, and knew all the ins and outs of the laws of gravitation as\nwell as the ins and outs of her boot-lace. And being a witch as well,\nshe could abrogate those laws in a moment; or at least so clog their\nwheels and rust their bearings that they would not work at all. But we\nhave more to do with what followed than with how it was done.\n\nThe first awkwardness that resulted from this unhappy privation was,\nthat the moment the nurse began to float the baby up and down, she flew\nfrom her arms towards the ceiling. Happily, the resistance of the air\nbrought her ascending career to a close within a foot of it. There she\nremained, horizontal as when she left her nurse's arms, kicking and\nlaughing amazingly. The nurse in terror flew to the bell, and begged the\nfootman, who answered it, to bring up the house-steps directly.\nTrembling in every limb, she climbed upon the steps, and had to stand\nupon the very top, and reach up, before she could catch the floating\ntail of the baby's long clothes.\n\nWhen the strange fact came to be known, there was a terrible commotion\nin the palace. The occasion of its discovery by the king was naturally a\nrepetition of the nurse's experience. Astonished that he felt no weight\nwhen the child was laid in his arms, he began to wave her up and--not\ndown; for she slowly ascended to the ceiling as before, and there\nremained floating in perfect comfort and satisfaction, as was testified\nby her peals of tiny laughter. The king stood staring up in speechless\namazement, and trembled so that his beard shook like grass in the wind.\nAt last, turning to the queen, who was just as horror-struck as himself,\nhe said, gasping, staring, and stammering:\n\n\"She _can't_ be ours, queen!\"\n\nNow the queen was much cleverer than the king, and had begun already to\nsuspect that \"this effect defective came by cause.\"\n\n\"I am sure she is ours,\" answered she. \"But we ought to have taken\nbetter care of her at the christening. People who were never invited\nought not to have been present.\"\n\n\"Oh, ho!\" said the king, tapping his forehead with his forefinger, \"I\nhave it all. I've found her out. Don't you see it, queen? Princess\nMakemnoit has bewitched her.\"\n\n\"That's just what I say,\" answered the queen.\n\n\"I beg your pardon, my love; I did not hear you. John! bring the steps I\nget on my throne with.\"\n\nFor he was a little king with a great throne, like many other kings.\n\nThe throne-steps were brought, and set upon the dining-table, and John\ngot upon the top of them. But, he could not reach the little princess,\nwho lay like a baby-laughter-cloud in the air, exploding continuously.\n\n\"Take the tongs, John,\" said his Majesty; and getting up on the table,\nhe handed them to him.\n\nJohn could reach the baby now, and the little princess was handed down\nby the tongs.\n\n\nIV\n\n_Where Is She?_\n\nOne fine summer day, a month after these her first adventures, during\nwhich time she had been very carefully watched, the princess was lying\non the bed in the queen's own chamber, fast asleep. One of the windows\nwas open, for it was noon, and the day was so sultry that the little\ngirl was wrapped in nothing less ethereal than slumber itself. The queen\ncame into the room, and not observing that the baby was on the bed,\nopened another window. A frolicsome fairy wind, which had been watching\nfor a chance of mischief, rushed in at the one window, and taking its\nway over the bed where the child was lying, caught her up, and rolling\nand floating her along like a piece of flue, or a dandelion seed,\ncarried her with it through the opposite window, and away. The queen\nwent down-stairs, quite ignorant of the loss she had herself occasioned.\n\n\n\n\nWhen the nurse returned, she supposed that her Majesty had carried her\noff, and, dreading a scolding, delayed making inquiry about her. But\nhearing nothing, she grew uneasy, and went at length to the queen's\nboudoir, where she found her Majesty.\n\n\"Please, your Majesty, shall I take the baby?\" said she.\n\n\"Where is she?\" asked the queen.\n\n\"Please forgive me. I know it was wrong.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" said the queen, looking grave.\n\n\"Oh! don't frighten me, your Majesty!\" exclaimed the nurse, clasping her\nhands.\n\nThe queen saw that something was amiss, and fell down in a faint. The\nnurse rushed about the palace, screaming, \"My baby! my baby!\"\n\nEvery one ran to the queen's room. But the queen could give no orders.\nThey soon found out, however, that the princess was missing, and in a\nmoment the palace was like a beehive in a garden; and in one minute more\nthe queen was brought to herself by a great shout and a clapping of\nhands. They had found the princess fast asleep under a rose-bush, to\nwhich the elfish little wind-puff had carried her, finishing its\nmischief by shaking a shower of red rose-leaves all over the little\nwhite sleeper. Startled by the noise the servants made, she woke, and,\nfurious with glee, scattered the rose-leaves in all directions, like a\nshower of spray in the sunset.\n\nShe was watched more carefully after this, no doubt; yet it would be\nendless to relate all the odd incidents resulting from this peculiarity\nof the young princess. But there never was a baby in a house, not to say\na palace, that kept the household in such constant good humour, at least\nbelow-stairs. If it was not easy for her nurses to hold her, at least\nshe made neither their arms nor their hearts ache. And she was so nice\nto play at ball with! There was positively no danger of letting her\nfall. They might throw her down, or knock her down, or push her down,\nbut they couldn't _let_ her down. It is true, they might let her fly\ninto the fire or the coal-hole, or through the window; but none of these\naccidents had happened as yet. If you heard peals of laughter resounding\nfrom some unknown region, you might be sure enough of the cause. Going\ndown into the kitchen, or _the room_, you would find Jane and Thomas,\nand Robert and Susan, all and sum, playing at ball with the little\nprincess. She was the ball herself, and did not enjoy it the less for\nthat. Away she went, flying from one to another, screeching with\nlaughter. And the servants loved the ball itself better even than the\ngame. But they had to take some care how they threw her, for if she\nreceived an upward direction, she would never come down again without\nbeing fetched.\n\n\nV\n\n_What Is to Be Done?_\n\nBut above-stairs it was different. One day, for instance, after\nbreakfast, the king went into his counting-house, and counted out his\nmoney.\n\nThe operation gave him no pleasure.\n\n\"To think,\" said he to himself, \"that every one of these gold sovereigns\nweighs a quarter of an ounce, and my real, live, flesh-and-blood\nprincess weighs nothing at all!\"\n\nAnd he hated his gold sovereigns, as they lay with a broad smile of\nself-satisfaction all over their yellow faces.\n\nThe queen was in the parlour, eating bread and honey. But at the second\nmouthful she burst out crying, and could not swallow it. The king heard\nher sobbing. Glad of anybody, but especially of his queen, to quarrel\nwith, he clashed his gold sovereigns into his money-box, clapped his\ncrown on his head, and rushed into the parlour.\n\n\"What is all this about?\" exclaimed he. \"What are you crying for,\nqueen?\"\n\n\"I can't eat it,\" said the queen, looking ruefully at the honey-pot.\n\n\"No wonder!\" retorted the king. \"You've just eaten your breakfast--two\nturkey eggs, and three anchovies.\"\n\n\"Oh, that's not it!\" sobbed her Majesty. \"It's my child, my child!\"\n\n\"Well, what's the matter with your child? She's neither up the chimney\nnor down the draw-well. Just hear her laughing.\"\n\nYet the king could not help a sigh, which he tried to turn into a cough,\nsaying:\n\n\"It is a good thing to be light-hearted, I am sure, whether she be ours\nor not.\"\n\n\"It is a bad thing to be light-headed,\" answered the queen, looking with\nprophetic soul far into the future.\n\n\"'T is a good thing to be light-handed,\" said the king.\n\n\"'T is a bad thing to be light-fingered,\" answered the queen.\n\n\"'T is a good thing to be light-footed,\" said the king.\n\n\"'T is a bad thing--\" began the queen; but the king interrupted her.\n\n\"In fact,\" said he, with the tone of one who concludes an argument in\nwhich he has had only imaginary opponents, and in which, therefore, he\nhas come off triumphant--\"in fact, it is a good thing altogether to be\nlight-bodied.\"\n\n\"But it is a bad thing altogether to be light-minded,\" retorted the\nqueen, who was beginning to lose her temper.\n\nThis last answer quite discomfited his Majesty, who turned on his heel,\nand betook himself to his counting-house again. But he was not half-way\ntowards it, when the voice of his queen overtook him.\n\n\"And it's a bad thing to be light-haired,\" screamed she, determined to\nhave more last words, now that her spirit was roused.\n\nThe queen's hair was black as night; and the king's had been, and his\ndaughter's was, golden as morning. But it was not this reflection on his\nhair that arrested him; it was the double use of the word _light_. For\nthe king hated all witticisms, and punning especially. And besides, he\ncould not tell whether the queen meant light-_haired_ or light-_heired_;\nfor why might she not aspirate her vowels when she was exasperated\nherself?\n\nHe turned upon his other heel, and rejoined her. She looked angry still,\nbecause she knew that she was guilty, or, what was much the same, knew\nthat he thought so.\n\n\"My dear queen,\" said he, \"duplicity of any sort is exceedingly\nobjectionable between married people of any rank, not to say kings and\nqueens; and the most objectionable form duplicity can assume is that of\npunning.\"\n\n\"There!\" said the queen, \"I never made a jest, but I broke it in the\nmaking. I am the most unfortunate woman in the world!\"\n\nShe looked so rueful that the king took her in his arms; and they sat\ndown to consult.\n\n\"Can you bear this?\" said the king.\n\n\"No, I can't,\" said the queen.\n\n\"Well, what's to be done?\" said the king.\n\n\"I'm sure I don't know,\" said the queen. \"But might you not try an\napology?\"\n\n\"To my old sister, I suppose you mean?\" said the king.\n\n\"Yes,\" said the queen.\n\n\"Well, I don't mind,\" said the king.\n\nSo he went the next morning to the house of the princess, and, making a\nvery humble apology, begged her to undo the spell. But the princess\ndeclared, with a grave face, that she knew nothing at all about it. Her\neyes, however, shone pink, which was a sign that she was happy. She\nadvised the king and queen to have patience, and to mend their ways. The\nking returned disconsolate. The queen tried to comfort him.\n\n\"We will wait till she is older. She may then be able to suggest\nsomething herself. She will know at least how she feels, and explain\nthings to us.\"\n\n\"But what if she should marry?\" exclaimed the king, in sudden\nconsternation at the idea.\n\n\"Well, what of that?\" rejoined the queen.\n\n\"Just think! If she were to have children! In the course of a hundred\nyears the air might be as full of floating children as of gossamers in\nautumn.\"\n\n\"That is no business of ours,\" replied the queen. \"Besides, by that time\nthey will have learned to take care of themselves.\"\n\nA sigh was the king's only answer.\n\nHe would have consulted the court physicians; but he was afraid they\nwould try experiments upon her.\n\n\nVI\n\n_She Laughs Too Much_\n\nMeantime, notwithstanding awkward occurrences, and griefs that she\nbrought upon her parents, the little princess laughed and grew--not fat,\nbut plump and tall. She reached the age of seventeen, without having\nfallen into any worse scrape than a chimney; by rescuing her from which,\na little bird-nesting urchin got fame and a black face. Nor, thoughtless\nas she was, had she committed anything worse than laughter at everybody\nand everything that came in her way. When she was told, for the sake of\nexperiment, that General Clanrunfort was cut to pieces with all his\ntroops, she laughed; when she heard that the enemy was on his way to\nbesiege her father's capital, she laughed hugely; but when she was told\nthat the city would certainly be abandoned to the mercy of the enemy's\nsoldiery--why, then she laughed immoderately. She never could be brought\nto see the serious side of anything. When her mother cried, she said:\n\n\"What queer faces mamma makes! And she squeezes water out of her cheeks!\nFunny mamma!\"\n\nAnd when her papa stormed at her, she laughed, and danced round and\nround him, clapping her hands, and crying:\n\n\"Do it again, papa. Do it again! It's such fun! Dear, funny papa!\"\n\nAnd if he tried to catch her, she glided from him in an instant, not in\nthe least afraid of him, but thinking it part of the game not to be\ncaught. With one push of her foot, she would be floating in the air\nabove his head; or she would go dancing backwards and forwards and\nsideways, like a great butterfly. It happened several times, when her\nfather and mother were holding a consultation about her in private, that\nthey were interrupted by vainly repressed outbursts of laughter over\ntheir heads; and looking up with indignation, saw her floating at full\nlength in the air above them, whence she regarded them with the most\ncomical appreciation of the position.\n\nOne day an awkward accident happened. The princess had come out upon the\nlawn with one of her attendants, who held her by the hand. Spying her\nfather at the other side of the lawn, she snatched her hand from the\nmaid's, and sped across to him. Now when she wanted to run alone, her\ncustom was to catch up a stone in each hand, so that she might come down\nagain after a bound. Whatever she wore as part of her attire had no\neffect in this way. Even gold, when it thus became as it were a part of\nherself, lost all its weight for the time. But whatever she only held in\nher hands retained its downward tendency. On this occasion she could see\nnothing to catch up but a huge toad, that was walking across the lawn as\nif he had a hundred years to do it in. Not knowing what disgust meant,\nfor this was one of her peculiarities, she snatched up the toad and\nbounded away. She had almost reached her father, and he was holding out\nhis arms to receive her, and take from her lips the kiss which hovered\non them like a butterfly on a rosebud, when a puff of wind blew her\naside into the arms of a young page, who had just been receiving a\nmessage from his Majesty. Now it was no great peculiarity in the\nprincess that, once she was set agoing, it always cost her time and\ntrouble to check herself. On this occasion there was no time. She _must_\nkiss--and she kissed the page. She did not mind it much; for she had no\nshyness in her composition; and she knew, besides, that she could not\nhelp it. So she only laughed, like a musical box. The poor page fared\nthe worst. For the princess, trying to correct the unfortunate tendency\nof the kiss, put out her hands to keep off the page; so that, along with\nthe kiss, he received, on the other cheek, a slap with the huge black\ntoad, which she poked right into his eye. He tried to laugh, too, but\nthe attempt resulted in such an odd contortion of countenance, as showed\nthat there was no danger of his pluming himself on the kiss. As for the\nking, his dignity was greatly hurt, and he did not speak to the page for\na whole month.\n\nI may here remark that it was very amusing to see her run, if her mode\nof progression could properly be called running. For first she would\nmake a bound; then, having alighted, she would run a few steps, and make\nanother bound. Sometimes she would fancy she had reached the ground\nbefore she actually had, and her feet would go backwards and forwards,\nrunning upon nothing at all, like those of a chicken on its back. Then\nshe would laugh like the very spirit of fun; only in her laugh there was\nsomething missing. What it was, I find myself unable to describe. I\nthink it was a certain tone, depending upon the possibility of\nsorrow--_morbidezza_, perhaps. She never smiled.\n\n\nVII\n\n_Try Metaphysics_\n\nAfter a long avoidance of the painful subject, the king and queen\nresolved to hold a council of three upon it; and so they sent for the\nprincess. In she came, sliding and flitting and gliding from one piece\nof furniture to another, and put herself at last in an arm-chair, in a\nsitting posture. Whether she could be said _to sit_, seeing she received\nno support from the seat of the chair, I do not pretend to determine.\n\n\"My dear child,\" said the king, \"you must be aware by this time that you\nare not exactly like other people.\"\n\n\"Oh, you dear funny papa! I have got a nose, and two eyes, and all the\nrest. So have you. So has mamma.\"\n\n\"Now be serious, my dear, for once,\" said the queen.\n\n\"No, thank you, mamma; I had rather not.\"\n\n\"Would you not like to be able to walk like other people?\" said the\nking.\n\n\"No indeed, I should think not. You only crawl. You are such slow\ncoaches!\"\n\n\"How do you feel, my child?\" he resumed, after a pause of discomfiture.\n\n\"Quite well, thank you.\"\n\n\"I mean, what do you feel like?\"\n\n\"Like nothing at all, that I know of.\"\n\n\"You must feel like something.\"\n\n\"I feel like a princess with such a funny papa, and such a dear pet of a\nqueen-mamma!\"\n\n\"Now really!\" began the queen; but the princess interrupted her.\n\n\"Oh, yes,\" she added, \"I remember. I have a curious feeling sometimes,\nas if I were the only person that had any sense in the whole world.\"\n\nShe had been trying to behave herself with dignity; but now she burst\ninto a violent fit of laughter, threw herself backwards over the chair,\nand went rolling about the floor in an ecstasy of enjoyment. The king\npicked her up easier than one does a down quilt, and replaced her in her\nformer relation to the chair. The exact preposition expressing this\nrelation I do not happen to know.\n\n\"Is there nothing you wish for?\" resumed the king, who had learned by\nthis time that it was useless to be angry with her.\n\n\"Oh, you dear papa!--yes,\" answered she.\n\n\"What is it, my darling?\"\n\n\"I have been longing for it--oh, such a time!--ever since last night.\"\n\n\"Tell me what it is.\"\n\n\"Will you promise to let me have it?\"\n\nThe king was on the point of saying yes, but the wiser queen checked him\nwith a single motion of her head.\n\n\"Tell me what it is first,\" said he.\n\n\"No, no. Promise first.\"\n\n\"I dare not. What is it?\"\n\n\"Mind, I hold you to your promise. It is--to be tied to the end of a\nstring--a very long string indeed, and be flown like a kite. Oh, such\nfun! I would rain rose-water, and hail sugar-plums, and snow\nwhipped-cream, and--and--and--\"\n\nA fit of laughing checked her; and she would have been off again over\nthe floor, had not the king started up and caught her just in time.\nSeeing that nothing but talk could be got out of her, he rang the bell,\nand sent her away with two of her ladies-in-waiting.\n\n\"Now, queen,\" he said, turning to her Majesty, \"what _is_ to be done?\"\n\n\"There is but one thing left,\" answered she. \"Let us consult the college\nof Metaphysicians.\"\n\n\"Bravo!\" cried the king; \"we will.\"\n\nNow at the head of this college were two very wise Chinese\nphilosophers--by name Hum-Drum, and Kopy-Keck. For them the king sent;\nand straightway they came. In a long speech he communicated to them what\nthey knew very well already--as who did not?--namely, the peculiar\ncondition of his daughter in relation to the globe on which she dwelt;\nand requested them to consult together as to what might be the cause and\nprobable cure of her _infirmity_. The king laid stress upon the word,\nbut failed to discover his own pun. The queen laughed; but Hum-Drum and\nKopy-Keck heard with humility and retired in silence.\n\nTheir consultation consisted chiefly in propounding and supporting, for\nthe thousandth time, each his favourite theories. For the condition of\nthe princess afforded delightful scope for the discussion of every\nquestion arising from the division of thought--in fact, of all the\nMetaphysics of the Chinese Empire. But it is only justice to say that\nthey did not altogether neglect the discussion of the practical\nquestion, _what was to be done_.\n\nHum-Drum was a Materialist, and Kopy-Keck was a Spiritualist. The former\nwas slow and sententious; the latter was quick and flighty; the latter\nhad generally the first word; the former the last.\n\n\"I reassert my former assertion,\" began Kopy-Keck, with a plunge. \"There\nis not a fault in the princess, body or soul; only they are wrong put\ntogether. Listen to me now, Hum-Drum, and I will tell you in brief what\nI think. Don't speak. Don't answer me. I _won't_ hear you till I have\ndone. At that decisive moment, when souls seek their appointed\nhabitations, two eager souls met, struck, rebounded, lost their way, and\narrived each at the wrong place. The soul of the princess was one of\nthose, and she went far astray. She does not belong by rights to this\nworld at all, but to some other planet, probably Mercury. Her proclivity\nto her true sphere destroys all the natural influence which this orb\nwould otherwise possess over her corporeal frame. She cares for nothing\nhere. There is no relation between her and this world.\n\n\"She must therefore be taught, by the sternest compulsion, to take an\ninterest in the earth as the earth. She must study every department of\nits history--its animal history, its vegetable history, its mineral\nhistory, its social history, its moral history, its political history,\nits scientific history, its literary history, its musical history, its\nartistical history, above all, its metaphysical history. She must begin\nwith the Chinese dynasty and end with Japan. But first of all she must\nstudy geology, and especially the history of the extinct races of\nanimals--their natures, their habits, their loves, their hates, their\nrevenges. She must--\"\n\n\"Hold, h-o-o-old!\" roared Hum-Drum. \"It is certainly my turn now. My\nrooted and insubvertible conviction is, that the causes of the anomalies\nevident in the princess's condition are strictly and solely physical.\nBut that is only tantamount to acknowledging that they exist. Hear my\nopinion. From some cause or other, of no importance to our inquiry, the\nmotion of her heart has been reversed. That remarkable combination of\nthe suction and the force-pump works the wrong way--I mean in the case\nof the unfortunate princess, it draws in where it should force out, and\nforces out where it should draw in. The offices of the auricles and the\nventricles are subverted. The blood is sent forth by the veins, and\nreturns by the arteries. Consequently it is running the wrong way\nthrough all her corporeal organism--lungs and all. Is it then at all\nmysterious, seeing that such is the case, that on the other particular\nof gravitation as well, she should differ from normal humanity? My\nproposal for the cure is this:\n\n\"Phlebotomise until she is reduced to the last point of safety. Let it\nbe effected, if necessary, in a warm bath. When she is reduced to a\nstate of perfect asphyxy, apply a ligature to the left ankle, drawing it\nas tight as the bone will bear. Apply, at the same moment, another of\nequal tension around the right wrist. By means of plates constructed for\nthe purpose, place the other foot and hand under the receivers of two\nair-pumps. Exhaust the receivers. Exhibit a pint of French brandy, and\nawait the result.\"\n\n\"Which would presently arrive in the form of grim Death,\" said\nKopy-Keck.\n\n\"If it should, she would yet die in doing our duty,\" retorted Hum-Drum.\n\nBut their Majesties had too much tenderness for their volatile offspring\nto subject her to either of the schemes of the equally unscrupulous\nphilosophers. Indeed, the most complete knowledge of the laws of nature\nwould have been unserviceable in her case; for it was impossible to\nclassify her. She was a fifth imponderable body, sharing all the other\nproperties of the ponderable.\n\n\nVIII\n\n_Try a Drop of Water_\n\nPerhaps the best thing for the princess would have been to fall in love.\nBut how a princess who had no gravity could fall into anything is a\ndifficulty--perhaps _the_ difficulty. As for her own feelings on the\nsubject, she did not even know that there was such a beehive of honey\nand stings to be fallen into. But now I come to mention another curious\nfact about her.\n\nThe palace was built on the shores of the loveliest lake in the world;\nand the princess loved this lake more than father or mother. The root of\nthis preference no doubt, although the princess did not recognise it as\nsuch, was, that the moment she got into it, she recovered the natural\nright of which she had been so wickedly deprived--namely, gravity.\nWhether this was owing to the fact that water had been employed as the\nmeans of conveying the injury, I do not know. But it is certain that she\ncould swim and dive like the duck that her old nurse said she was. The\nmanner in which this alleviation of her misfortune was discovered was as\nfollows:\n\nOne summer evening, during the carnival of the country, she had been\ntaken upon the lake by the king and queen, in the royal barge. They were\naccompanied by many of the courtiers in a fleet of little boats. In the\nmiddle of the lake she wanted to get into the lord chancellor's barge,\nfor his daughter, who was a great favourite with her, was in it with her\nfather. Now though the old king rarely condescended to make light of his\nmisfortune, yet, happening on this occasion to be in a particularly good\nhumour, as the barges approached each other, he caught up the princess\nto throw her into the chancellor's barge. He lost his balance, however,\nand, dropping into the bottom of the barge, lost his hold of his\ndaughter; not, however, before imparting to her the downward tendency of\nhis own person, though in a somewhat different direction, for, as the\nking fell into the boat, she fell into the water. With a burst of\ndelighted laughter she disappeared into the lake. A cry of horror\nascended from the boats. They had never seen the princess go down\nbefore. Half the men were under water in a moment; but they had all, one\nafter another, come up to the surface again for breath, when--tinkle,\ntinkle, babble, and gush! came the princess's laugh over the water from\nfar away. There she was, swimming like a swan. Nor would she come out\nfor king or queen, chancellor or daughter. She was perfectly obstinate.\n\n\n\n\nBut at the same time she seemed more sedate than usual. Perhaps that was\nbecause a great pleasure spoils laughing. At all events, after this, the\npassion of her life was to get into the water, and she was always the\nbetter behaved and the more beautiful the more she had of it. Summer and\nwinter it was quite the same; only she could not stay so long in the\nwater when they had to break the ice to let her in. Any day, from\nmorning to evening in summer, she might be descried--a streak of white\nin the blue water--lying as still as the shadow of a cloud, or shooting\nalong like a dolphin; disappearing, and coming up again far off, just\nwhere one did not expect her. She would have been in the lake of a night\ntoo, if she could have had her way; for the balcony of her window\noverhung a deep pool in it; and through a shallow reedy passage she\ncould have swum out into the wide wet water, and no one would have been\nany the wiser. Indeed, when she happened to wake in the moonlight she\ncould hardly resist the temptation. But there was the sad difficulty of\ngetting into it. She had as great a dread of the air as some children\nhave of the water. For the slightest gust of wind would blow her away;\nand a gust might arise in the stillest moment. And if she gave herself a\npush towards the water and just failed of reaching it, her situation\nwould be dreadfully awkward, irrespective of the wind; for at best there\nshe would have to remain, suspended in her night-gown, till she was seen\nand angled for by somebody from the window.\n\n\"Oh! if I had my gravity,\" thought she, contemplating the water, \"I\nwould flash off this balcony like a long white sea-bird, headlong into\nthe darling wetness. Heigh-ho!\"\n\nThis was the only consideration that made her wish to be like other\npeople.\n\nAnother reason for her being fond of the water was that in it alone she\nenjoyed any freedom. For she could not walk without a _cortege_,\nconsisting in part of a troop of light-horse, for fear of the liberties\nwhich the wind might take with her. And the king grew more apprehensive\nwith increasing years, till at last he would not allow her to walk\nabroad at all without some twenty silken cords fastened to as many parts\nof her dress, and held by twenty noblemen. Of course horseback was out\nof the question. But she bade good-bye to all this ceremony when she got\ninto the water.\n\nAnd so remarkable were its effects upon her, especially in restoring her\nfor the time to the ordinary human gravity, that Hum-Drum and Kopy-Keck\nagreed in recommending the king to bury her alive for three years; in\nthe hope that, as the water did her so much good, the earth would do her\nyet more. But the king had some vulgar prejudices against the\nexperiment, and would not give his consent. Foiled in this, they yet\nagreed in another recommendation; which, seeing that one imported his\nopinions from China and the other from Thibet, was very remarkable\nindeed. They argued that, if water of external origin and application\ncould be so efficacious, water from a deeper source might work a perfect\ncure; in short, that if the poor afflicted princess could by any means\nbe made to cry, she might recover her lost gravity.\n\nBut how was this to be brought about? Therein lay all the difficulty--to\nmeet which the philosophers were not wise enough. To make the princess\ncry was as impossible as to make her weigh. They sent for a professional\nbeggar, commanded him to prepare his most touching oracle of woe, helped\nhim out of the court charade box to whatever he wanted for dressing up,\nand promised great rewards in the event of his success. But it was all\nin vain. She listened to the mendicant artist's story, and gazed at his\nmarvellous make up, till she could contain herself no longer, and went\ninto the most undignified contortions for relief, shrieking, positively\nscreeching with laughter.\n\nWhen she had a little recovered herself, she ordered her attendants to\ndrive him away, and not give him a single copper; whereupon his look of\nmortified discomfiture wrought her punishment and his revenge, for it\nsent her into violent hysterics, from which she was with difficulty\nrecovered.\n\nBut so anxious was the king that the suggestion should have a fair\ntrial, that he put himself in a rage one day, and, rushing up to her\nroom, gave her an awful whipping. Yet not a tear would flow. She looked\ngrave, and her laughing sounded uncommonly like screaming--that was all.\nThe good old tyrant, though he put on his best gold spectacles to look,\ncould not discover the smallest cloud in the serene blue of her eyes.\n\n\nIX\n\n_Put Me in Again!_\n\nIt must have been about this time that the son of a king, who lived a\nthousand miles from Lagobel, set out to look for the daughter of a\nqueen. He travelled far and wide, but as sure as he found a princess, he\nfound some fault with her. Of course he could not marry a mere woman,\nhowever beautiful; and there was no princess to be found worthy of him.\nWhether the prince was so near perfection that he had a right to demand\nperfection itself, I cannot pretend to say. All I know is, that he was a\nfine, handsome, brave, generous, well-bred, and well-behaved youth, as\nall princes are.\n\nIn his wanderings he had come across some reports about our princess;\nbut as everybody said she was bewitched, he never dreamed that she could\nbewitch him. For what indeed could a prince do with a princess that had\nlost her gravity? Who could tell what she might not lose next? She might\nlose her visibility, or her tangibility; or, in short, the power of\nmaking impressions upon the radical sensorium; so that he should never\nbe able to tell whether she was dead or alive. Of course he made no\nfurther inquiries about her.\n\nOne day he lost sight of his retinue in a great forest. These forests\nare very useful in delivering princes from their courtiers, like a sieve\nthat keeps back the bran. Then the princes get away to follow their\nfortunes. In this way they have the advantage of the princesses, who are\nforced to marry before they have had a bit of fun. I wish our princesses\ngot lost in a forest sometimes.\n\nOne lovely evening, after wandering about for many days, he found that\nhe was approaching the outskirts of this forest; for the trees had got\nso thin that he could see the sunset through them; and he soon came upon\na kind of heath. Next he came upon signs of human neighbourhood; but by\nthis time it was getting late, and there was nobody in the fields to\ndirect him.\n\nAfter travelling for another hour, his horse, quite worn out with long\nlabour and lack of food, fell, and was unable to rise again. So he\ncontinued his journey on foot. A length he entered another wood--not a\nwild forest, but a civilised wood, through which a footpath led him to\nthe side of a lake. Along this path the prince pursued his way through\nthe gathering darkness. Suddenly he paused, and listened. Strange sounds\ncame across the water. It was, in fact, the princess laughing. Now there\nwas something odd in her laugh, as I have already hinted; for the\nhatching of a real hearty laugh requires the incubation of gravity; and\nperhaps this was how the prince mistook the laughter for screaming.\nLooking over the lake, he saw something white in the water; and, in an\ninstant, he had torn off his tunic, kicked off his sandals, and plunged\nin. He soon reached the white object, and found that it was a woman.\nThere was not light enough to show that she was a princess, but quite\nenough to show that she was a lady, for it does not want much light to\nsee that.\n\nNow I cannot tell how it came about--whether she pretended to be\ndrowning, or whether he frightened her, or caught her so as to embarrass\nher--but certainly he brought her to shore in a fashion ignominious to a\nswimmer, and more nearly drowned than she had ever expected to be; for\nthe water had got into her throat as often as she had tried to speak.\n\nAt the place to which he bore her, the bank was only a foot or two above\nthe water; so he gave her a strong lift out of the water, to lay her on\nthe bank. But, her gravitation ceasing the moment she left the water,\naway she went up into the air, scolding and screaming.\n\n\"You naughty, _naughty_, Naughty, NAUGHTY man!\" she cried.\n\nNo one had ever succeeded in putting her into a passion before. When the\nprince saw her ascend, he thought he must have been bewitched, and have\nmistaken a great swan for a lady. But the princess caught hold of the\ntopmost cone upon a lofty fir. This came off; but she caught at another;\nand, in fact, stopped herself by gathering cones, dropping them as the\nstalks gave way. The prince, meantime, stood in the water, staring, and\nforgetting to get out. But the princess disappearing, he scrambled on\nshore, and went in the direction of the tree. There he found her\nclimbing down one of the branches towards the stem. But in the darkness\nof the wood, the prince continued in some bewilderment as to what the\nphenomenon could be; until, reaching the ground, and seeing him standing\nthere, she caught hold of him, and said:\n\n\"I'll tell papa,\"\n\n\"Oh no, you won't!\" returned the prince.\n\n\"Yes, I will,\" she persisted. \"What business had you to pull me down out\nof the water, and throw me to the bottom of the air? I never did you any\nharm.\"\n\n\"Pardon me. I did not mean to hurt you.\"\n\n\"I don't believe you have any brains; and that is a worse loss than your\nwretched gravity. I pity you.\"\n\nThe prince now saw that he had come upon the bewitched princess, and had\nalready offended her. But before he could think what to say next, she\nburst out angrily, giving a stamp with her foot that would have sent her\naloft again but for the hold she had of his arm:\n\n\"Put me up directly.\"\n\n\"Put you up where, you beauty?\" asked the prince.\n\nHe had fallen in love with her almost, already; for her anger made her\nmore charming than any one else had ever beheld her; and, as far as he\ncould see, which certainly was not far, she had not a single fault about\nher, except, of course, that she had not any gravity. No prince,\nhowever, would judge of a princess by weight. The loveliness of her foot\nhe would hardly estimate by the depth of the impression it could make in\nmud.\n\n\"Put you up where, you beauty?\" asked the prince.\n\n\"In the water, you stupid!\" answered the princess.\n\n\"Come, then,\" said the prince.\n\nThe condition of her dress, increasing her usual difficulty in walking,\ncompelled her to cling to him; and he could hardly persuade himself that\nhe was not in a delightful dream, notwithstanding the torrent of musical\nabuse with which she overwhelmed him. The prince being therefore in no\nhurry, they came upon the lake at quite another part, where the bank was\ntwenty-five feet high at least; and when they had reached the edge, he\nturned towards the princess, and said:\n\n\"How am I to put you in?\"\n\n\"That is your business,\" she answered, quite snappishly. \"You took me\nout--put me in again.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said the prince; and, catching her up in his arms, he\nsprang with her from the rock. The princess had just time to give one\ndelighted shriek of laughter before the water closed over them. When\nthey came to the surface, she found that, for a moment or two, she could\nnot even laugh, for she had gone down with such a rush, that it was with\ndifficulty she recovered her breath. The instant they reached the\nsurface--\n\n\"How do you like falling in?\" said the prince.\n\nAfter some effort the princess panted out:\n\n\"Is that what you call _falling in_?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered the prince, \"I should think it a very tolerable\nspecimen.\"\n\n\"It seemed to me like going up,\" rejoined she.\n\n\"My feeling was certainly one of elevation too,\" the prince conceded.\n\nThe princess did not appear to understand him, for she retorted his\nquestion:\n\n\"How do _you_ like falling in?\" said the princess.\n\n\"Beyond everything,\" answered he; \"for I have fallen in with the only\nperfect creature I ever saw.\"\n\n\"No more of that. I am tired of it,\" said the princess.\n\nPerhaps she shared her father's aversion to punning.\n\n\"Don't you like falling in, then?\" said the prince.\n\n\"It is the most delightful fun I ever had in my life,\" answered she. \"I\nnever fell before. I wish I could learn. To think I am the only person\nin my father's kingdom that can't fall!\"\n\nHere the poor princess looked almost sad.\n\n\"I shall be most happy to fall in with you any time you like,\" said the\nprince, devotedly.\n\n\"Thank you. I don't know. Perhaps it would not be proper. But I don't\ncare. At all events, as we have fallen in, let us have a swim together.\"\n\n\"With all my heart,\" responded the prince.\n\nAnd away they went, swimming, and diving, and floating, until at last\nthey heard cries along the shore, and saw lights glancing in all\ndirections. It was now quite late, and there was no moon.\n\n\"I must go home,\" said the princess. \"I am very sorry, for this is\ndelightful.\"\n\n\"So am I,\" returned the prince. \"But I am glad I haven't a home to go\nto--at least, I don't exactly know where it is.\"\n\n\"I wish I hadn't one either,\" rejoined the princess; \"it is so stupid! I\nhave a great mind,\" she continued, \"to play them all a trick. Why\ncouldn't they leave me alone? They won't trust me in the lake for a\nsingle night! You see where that green light is burning? That is the\nwindow of my room. Now if you would just swim there with me very\nquietly, and when we are all but under the balcony, give me such a\npush--_up_ you call it--as you did a little while ago, I should be able\nto catch hold of the balcony, and get in at the window; and then they\nmay look for me till to-morrow morning!\"\n\n\"With more obedience than pleasure,\" said the prince, gallantly; and\naway they swam, very gently.\n\n\"Will you be in the lake to-morrow night?\" the prince ventured to ask.\n\n\"To be sure I will. I don't think so. Perhaps,\" was the princess's\nsomewhat strange answer.\n\nBut the prince was intelligent enough not to press her further; and\nmerely whispered, as he gave her the parting lift, \"Don't tell.\" The\nonly answer the princess returned was a roguish look. She was already a\nyard above his head. The look seemed to say, \"Never fear. It is too good\nfun to spoil that way.\"\n\nSo perfectly like other people had she been in the water, that even yet\nthe prince could scarcely believe his eyes when he saw her ascend\nslowly, grasp the balcony, and disappear through the window. He turned,\nalmost expecting to see her still by his side. But he was alone in the\nwater. So he swam away quietly, and watched the lights roving about the\nshore for hours after the princess was safe in her chamber. As soon as\nthey disappeared, he landed in search of his tunic and sword, and, after\nsome trouble, found them again. Then he made the best of his way round\nthe lake to the other side. There the wood was wilder, and the shore\nsteeper--rising more immediately towards the mountains which surrounded\nthe lake on all sides, and kept sending it messages of silvery streams\nfrom morning to night, and all night long. He soon found a spot where he\ncould see the green light in the princess's room, and where, even in the\nbroad daylight, he would be in no danger of being discovered from the\nopposite shore. It was a sort of cave in the rock, where he provided\nhimself a bed of withered leaves, and lay down too tired for hunger to\nkeep him awake. All night long he dreamed that he was swimming with the\nprincess.\n\n\nX\n\n_Look at the Moon_\n\nEarly the next morning the prince set out to look for something to eat,\nwhich he soon found at a forester's hut, where for many following days\nhe was supplied with all that a brave prince could consider necessary.\nAnd having plenty to keep him alive for the present, he would not think\nof wants not yet in existence. Whenever Care intruded, this prince\nalways bowed him out in the most princely manner.\n\nWhen he returned from his breakfast to his watch-cave, he saw the\nprincess already floating about in the lake, attended by the king and\nqueen--whom he knew by their crowns--and a great company in lovely\nlittle boats, with canopies of all the colours of the rainbow, and flags\nand streamers of a great many more. It was a very bright day, and the\nprince, burned up with the heat, began to long for the cold water and\nthe cool princess. But he had to endure till twilight; for the boats had\nprovisions on board, and it was not till the sun went down that the gay\nparty began to vanish. Boat after boat drew away to the shore, following\nthat of the king and queen, till only one, apparently the princess's own\nboat, remained. But she did not want to go home even yet, and the prince\nthought he saw her order the boat to the shore without her. At all\nevents it rowed away; and now, of all the radiant company, only one\nwhite speck remained. Then the prince began to sing.\n\nAnd this is what he sung:\n\n  \"Lady fair,\n   Swan-white,\n   Lift thine eyes,\n   Banish night\n   By the might\n   Of thine eyes.\n\n  \"Snowy arms,\n   Oars of snow,\n   Oar her hither,\n   Plashing low.\n   Soft and slow,\n   Oar her hither.\n\n  \"Stream behind her\n   O'er the lake,\n   Radiant whiteness!\n   In her wake\n   Following, following, for her sake,\n   Radiant whiteness!\n\n  \"Cling about her,\n   Waters blue;\n   Part not from her,\n   But renew\n   Cold and true\n   Kisses round her.\n\n  \"Lap me round,\n   Waters sad\n   That have left her\n   Make me glad,\n   For ye had\n   Kissed her ere ye left her.\"\n\nBefore he had finished his song, the princess was just under the place\nwhere he sat, and looking up to find him. Her ears had led her truly.\n\n\"Would you like a fall, princess?\" said the prince, looking down.\n\n\"Ah! there you are! Yes, if you please, prince,\" said the princess,\nlooking up.\n\n\"How do you know I am a prince, princess?\" said the prince.\n\n\"Because you are a very nice young man, prince,\" said the princess.\n\n\"Come up then, princess.\"\n\n\"Fetch me, prince.\"\n\nThe prince took off his scarf, then his swordbelt then his tunic, and\ntied them all together, and let them down. But the line was far too\nshort. He unwound his turban, and added it to the rest, when it was all\nbut long enough; and his purse completed it. The princess just managed\nto lay hold of the knot of money, and was beside him in a moment. This\nrock was much higher than the other, and the splash and the dive were\ntremendous. The princess was in ecstasies of delight, and their swim was\ndelicious.\n\nNight after night they met, and swam about in the dark clear lake, where\nsuch was the prince's gladness, that (whether the princess's way of\nlooking at things infected him, or he was actually getting light-headed)\nhe often fancied that he was swimming in the sky instead of the lake.\nBut when he talked about being in heaven, the princess laughed at him\ndreadfully.\n\nWhen the moon came, she brought them fresh pleasure. Everything looked\nstrange and new in her light, with an old, withered, yet unfading\nnewness. When the moon was nearly full, one of their great delights was\nto dive deep in the water, and then, turning round, look up through it\nat the great blot of light close above them, shimmering and trembling\nand wavering, spreading and contracting, seeming to melt away, and again\ngrow solid. Then they would shoot up through the blot, and lo! there was\nthe moon, far off, clear and steady and cold, and very lovely, at the\nbottom of a deeper and bluer lake than theirs, as the princess said.\n\nThe prince soon found out that while in the water the princess was very\nlike other people. And besides this, she was not so forward in her\nquestions or pert in her replies at sea as on shore. Neither did she\nlaugh so much; and when she did laugh, it was more gently. She seemed\naltogether more modest and maidenly in the water than out of it. But\nwhen the prince, who had really fallen in love when he fell in the lake,\nbegan to talk to her about love, she always turned her head towards him\nand laughed. After a while she began to look puzzled, as if she were\ntrying to understand what he meant, but could not--revealing a notion\nthat he meant something. But as soon as ever she left the lake, she was\nso altered, that the prince said to himself, \"If I marry her, I see no\nhelp for it: we must turn merman and mermaid, and go out to sea at\nonce,\"\n\n\nXI\n\n_Hiss_!\n\nThe princess's pleasure in the lake had grown to a passion, and she\ncould scarcely bear to be out of it for an hour. Imagine then her\nconsternation, when, diving with the prince one night, a sudden\nsuspicion seized her that the lake was not so deep as it used to be. The\nprince could not imagine what had happened. She shot to the surface,\nand, without a word, swam at full speed towards the higher side of the\nlake. He followed, begging to know if she was ill, or what was the\nmatter. She never turned her head, or took the smallest notice of his\nquestion. Arrived at the shore, she coasted the rocks with minute\ninspection. But she was not able to come to a conclusion, for the moon\nwas very small, and so she could not see well. She turned therefore and\nswam home, without saying a word to explain her conduct to the prince,\nof whose presence she seemed no longer conscious. He withdrew to his\ncave, in great perplexity and distress.\n\nNext day she made many observations, which, alas! strengthened her\nfears. She saw that the banks were too dry; and that the grass on the\nshore, and the trailing plants on the rocks, were withering away. She\ncaused marks to be made along the borders, and examined them, day after\nday, in all directions of the wind; till at last the horrible idea\nbecame a certain fact--that the surface of the lake was slowly sinking.\n\nThe poor princess nearly went out of the little mind she had. It was\nawful to her to see the lake, which she loved more than any living\nthing, lie dying before her eyes. It sank away, slowly vanishing. The\ntops of rocks that had never been seen till now, began to appear far\ndown in the clear water. Before long they were dry in the sun. It was\nfearful to think of the mud that would soon lie there baking and\nfestering, full of lovely creatures dying, and ugly creatures coming to\nlife, like the unmaking of a world. And how hot the sun would be without\nany lake! She could not bear to swim in it any more, and began to pine\naway. Her life seemed bound up with it; and ever as the lake sank, she\npined. People said she would not live an hour after the lake was gone.\n\nBut she never cried.\n\nProclamation was made to all the kingdom, that whosoever should discover\nthe cause of the lake's decrease, would be rewarded after a princely\nfashion. Hum-Drum and Kopy-Keck applied themselves to their physics and\nmetaphysics; but in vain. Not even they could suggest a cause.\n\nNow the fact was that the old princess was at the root of the mischief.\nWhen she heard that her niece found more pleasure in the water than any\none else had out of it, she went into a rage, and cursed herself for her\nwant of foresight,\n\n\"But,\" said she, \"I will soon set all right. The king and the people\nshall die of thirst; their brains shall boil and frizzle in their skulls\nbefore I will lose my revenge.\"\n\nAnd she laughed a ferocious laugh, that made the hairs on the back of\nher black cat stand erect with terror.\n\nThen she went to an old chest in the room, and opening it, took out what\nlooked like a piece of dried seaweed. This she threw into a tub of\nwater. Then she threw some powder into the water, and stirred it with\nher bare arm, muttering over it words of hideous sound, and yet more\nhideous import. Then she set the tub aside, and took from the chest a\nhuge bunch of a hundred rusty keys, that clattered in her shaking hands.\nThen she sat down and proceeded to oil them all. Before she had\nfinished, out from the tub, the water of which had kept on a slow motion\never since she had ceased stirring it, came the head and half the body\nof a huge gray snake. But the witch did not look round. It grew out of\nthe tub, waving itself backwards and forwards with a slow horizontal\nmotion, till it reached the princess, when it laid its head upon her\nshoulder, and gave a low hiss in her ear. She started--but with joy; and\nseeing the head resting on her shoulder, drew it towards her and kissed\nit. Then she drew it all out of the tub, and wound it round her body. It\nwas one of those dreadful creatures which few have ever beheld--the\nWhite Snakes of Darkness.\n\nThen she took the keys and went down to her cellar; and as she unlocked\nthe door she said to herself:\n\n\"This _is_ worth living for!\"\n\nLocking the door behind her, she descended a few steps into the cellar,\nand crossing it, unlocked another door into a dark, narrow passage. She\nlocked this also behind her, and descended a few more steps. If any one\nhad followed the witch-princess, he would have heard her unlock exactly\none hundred doors, and descend a few steps after unlocking each. When\nshe had unlocked the last, she entered a vast cave, the roof of which\nwas supported by huge natural pillars of rock. Now this roof was the\nunder side of the bottom of the lake.\n\nShe then untwined the snake from her body, and held it by the tail high\nabove her. The hideous creature stretched up its head towards the roof\nof the cavern, which it was just able to reach. It then began to move\nits head backwards and forwards, with a slow oscillating motion, as if\nlooking for something. At the same moment the witch began to walk round\nand round the cavern, coming nearer to the centre every circuit; while\nthe head of the snake described the same path over the roof that she did\nover the floor, for she kept holding it up. And still it kept slowly\nosculating. Round and round the cavern they went, ever lessening the\ncircuit, till at last the snake made a sudden dart, and clung to the\nroof with its mouth.\n\n\"That's right, my beauty!\" cried the princess; \"drain it dry.\"\n\nShe let it go, left it hanging, and sat down on a great stone, with her\nblack cat, which had followed her all round the cave, by her side. Then\nshe began to knit and mutter awful words. The snake hung like a huge\nleech, sucking at the stone; the cat stood with his back arched, and his\ntail like a piece of cable, looking up at the snake; and the old woman\nsat and knitted and muttered. Seven days and seven nights they remained\nthus; when suddenly the serpent dropped from the roof as if exhausted,\nand shrivelled up till it was again like a piece of dried seaweed. The\nwitch started to her feet, picked it up, put it in her pocket, and\nlooked up at the roof. One drop of water was trembling on the spot where\nthe snake had been sucking. As soon as she saw that, she turned and\nfled, followed by her cat. Shutting the door in a terrible hurry, she\nlocked it, and having muttered some frightful words, sped to the next,\nwhich also she locked and muttered over; and so with all the hundred\ndoors, till she arrived in her own cellar. Then she sat down on the\nfloor ready to faint, but listening with malicious delight to the\nrushing of the water, which she could hear distinctly through all the\nhundred doors.\n\nBut this was not enough. Now that she had tasted revenge, she lost her\npatience. Without further measures, the lake would be too long in\ndisappearing. So the next night, with the last shred of the dying old\nmoon rising, she took some of the water in which she had revived the\nsnake, put it in a bottle, and set out, accompanied by her cat. Before\nmorning she had made the entire circuit of the lake, muttering fearful\nwords as she crossed every stream, and casting into it some of the water\nout of her bottle. When she had finished the circuit she muttered yet\nagain, and flung a handful of water towards the moon. Thereupon every\nspring in the country ceased to throb and bubble, dying away like the\npulse of a dying man. The next day there was no sound of falling water\nto be heard along the borders of the lake. The very courses were dry;\nand the mountains showed no silvery streaks down their dark sides. And\nnot alone had the fountains of mother Earth ceased to flow; for all the\nbabies throughout the country were crying dreadfully--only without\ntears.\n\n\nXII\n\n_Where Is the Prince_?\n\nNever since the night when the princess left him so abruptly had the\nprince had a single interview with her. He had seen her once or twice in\nthe lake; but as far as he could discover, she had not been in it any\nmore at night. He had sat and sung, and looked in vain for his Nereid,\nwhile she, like a true Nereid, was wasting away with her lake, sinking\nas it sank, withering as it dried. When at length he discovered the\nchange that was taking place in the level of the water, he was in great\nalarm and perplexity. He could not tell whether the lake was dying\nbecause the lady had forsaken it; or whether the lady would not come\nbecause the lake had begun to sink. But he resolved to know so much at\nleast.\n\nHe disguised himself, and, going to the palace, requested to see the\nlord chamberlain. His appearance at once gained his request; and the\nlord chamberlain, being a man of some insight, perceived that there was\nmore in the prince's solicitation than met the ear. He felt likewise\nthat no one could tell whence a solution of the present difficulties\nmight arise. So he granted the prince's prayer to be made shoeblack to\nthe princess. It was rather cunning in the prince to request such an\neasy post, for the princess could not possibly soil as many shoes as\nother princesses.\n\nHe soon learned all that could be told about the princess. He went\nnearly distracted; but after roaming about the lake for days, and diving\nin every depth that remained, all that he could do was to put an extra\npolish on the dainty pair of boots that was never called for.\n\nFor the princess kept her room, with the curtains drawn to shut out the\ndying lake, but could not shut it out of her mind for a moment. It\nhaunted her imagination so that she felt as if the lake were her soul,\ndrying up within her, first to mud, then to madness and death. She thus\nbrooded over the change, with all its dreadful accompaniments, till she\nwas nearly distracted. As for the prince, she had forgotten him. However\nmuch she had enjoyed his company in the water, she did not care for him\nwithout it. But she seemed to have forgotten her father and mother too.\n\nThe lake went on sinking. Small slimy spots began to appear, which\nglittered steadily amidst the changeful shine of the water. These grew\nto broad patches of mud, which widened and spread, with rocks here and\nthere, and floundering fishes and crawling eels swarming. The people\nwent everywhere catching these, and looking for anything that might have\ndropped from the royal boats.\n\nAt length the lake was all but gone, only a few of the deepest pools\nremaining unexhausted.\n\nIt happened one day that a party of youngsters found themselves on the\nbrink of one of these pools in the very centre of the lake. It was a\nrocky basin of considerable depth. Looking in, they saw at the bottom\nsomething that shone yellow in the sun. A little boy jumped in and dived\nfor it. It was a plate of gold covered with writing. They carried it to\nthe king.\n\nOn one side of it stood these words:\n\n  \"Death alone from death can save.\n   Love is death, and so is brave.\n   Love can fill the deepest grave.\n   Love loves on beneath the wave.\"\n\nNow this was enigmatical enough to the king and courtiers. But the\nreverse of the plate explained it a little. Its writing amounted to\nthis:\n\n\"If the lake should disappear, they must find the hole through which the\nwater ran. But it would be useless to try to stop it by any ordinary\nmeans. There was but one effectual mode. The body of a living man could\nalone staunch the flow. The man must give himself of his own will; and\nthe lake must take his life as it filled. Otherwise the offering would\nbe of no avail. If the nation could not provide one hero, it was time it\nshould perish,\"\n\n\nXIII\n\n_Here I Am_!\n\nThis was a very disheartening revelation to the king--not that he was\nunwilling to sacrifice a subject, but that he was hopeless of finding a\nman willing to sacrifice himself. No time was to be lost however, for\nthe princess was lying motionless on her bed, and taking no nourishment\nbut lake-water, which was now none of the best. Therefore the king\ncaused the contents of the wonderful plate of gold to be published\nthroughout the country.\n\nNo one, however, came forward.\n\nThe prince, having gone several days' journey into the forest, to\nconsult a hermit whom he had met there on his way to Lagobel, knew\nnothing of the oracle till his return.\n\nWhen he had acquainted himself with all the particulars, he sat down and\nthought:\n\n\"She will die if I don't do it, and life would be nothing to me without\nher; so I shall lose nothing by doing it. And life will be as pleasant\nto her as ever, for she will soon forget me. And there will be so much\nmore beauty and happiness in the world! To be sure, I shall not see it.\"\n(Here the poor prince gave a sigh.) \"How lovely the lake will be in the\nmoonlight, with that glorious creature sporting in it like a wild\ngoddess! It is rather hard to be drowned by inches, though. Let me\nsee--that will be seventy inches of me to drown.\" (Here he tried to\nlaugh, but could not.) \"The longer the better, however,\" he resumed,\n\"for can I not bargain that the princess shall be beside me all the\ntime? So I shall see her once more, kiss her perhaps--who knows? and die\nlooking in her eyes. It will be no death. At least, I shall not feel it.\nAnd to see the lake filling for the beauty again! All right! I am\nready.\"\n\nHe kissed the princess's boot, laid it down, and hurried to the king's\napartment. But feeling, as he went, that anything sentimental would be\ndisagreeable, he resolved to carry off the whole affair with\nnonchalance. So he knocked at the door of the king's counting-house,\nwhere it was all but a capital crime to disturb him.\n\nWhen the king heard the knock, he started up, and opened the door in a\nrage. Seeing only the shoeblack, he drew his sword. This, I am sorry to\nsay, was his usual mode of asserting his regality when he thought his\ndignity was in danger. But the prince was not in the least alarmed.\n\n\"Please your majesty, I'm your butler,\" said he.\n\n\"My butler! you lying rascal! What do you mean?\"\n\n\"I mean, I will cork your big bottle.\"\n\n\"Is the fellow mad?\" bawled the king, raising the point of his sword.\n\n\"I will put the stopper--plug--what you call it, in your leaky lake,\ngrand monarch,\" said the prince.\n\nThe king was in such a rage that before he could speak he had time to\ncool, and to reflect that it would be great waste to kill the only man\nwho was willing to be useful in the present emergency, seeing that in\nthe end the insolent fellow would be as dead as if he had died by his\nmajesty's own hand.\n\n\"Oh!\" said he at last, putting up his sword with difficulty, it was so\nlong; \"I am obliged to you, you young fool! Take a glass of wine?\"\n\n\"No, thank you,\" replied the prince.\n\n\"Very well,\" said the king. \"Would you like to run and see your parents\nbefore you make your experiment?\"\n\n\"No, thank you,\" said the prince.\n\n\"Then we will go and look for the hole at once,\" said his majesty, and\nproceeded to call some attendants.\n\n\"Stop, please your majesty, I have a condition to make,\" interposed the\nprince.\n\n\"What!\" exclaimed the king, \"a condition! and with me! How dare you?\"\n\n\"As you please,\" returned the prince, coolly. \"I wish your majesty a\ngood morning,\"\n\n\"You wretch! I will have you put in a sack, and stuck in the hole.\"\n\n\"Very well, your majesty,\" replied the prince, becoming a little more\nrespectful, lest the wrath of the king should deprive him of the\npleasure of dying for the princess. \"But what good will that do your\nmajesty? Please to remember that the oracle says the victim must offer\nhimself.\"\n\n\"Well, you _have_ offered yourself,\" retorted the king.\n\n\"Yes, upon one condition.\"\n\n\"Condition again!\" roared the king, once more drawing his sword.\n\"Begone! Somebody else will be glad enough to take the honour off your\nshoulders.\"\n\n\"Your majesty knows it will not be easy to get another to take my\nplace.\"\n\n\"Well, what is your condition?\" growled the king, feeling that the\nprince was right.\n\n\"Only this,\" replied the prince; \"that, as I must on no account die\nbefore I am fairly drowned, and the waiting will be rather wearisome,\nthe princess, your daughter, shall go with me, feed me with her own\nhands, and look at me now and then to comfort me; for you must confess\nit _is_ rather hard. As soon as the water is up to my eyes, she may go\nand be happy, and forget her poor shoeblack.\"\n\nHere the prince's voice faltered, and he very nearly grew sentimental,\nin spite of his resolution.\n\n\"Why didn't you tell me before what your condition was? Such a fuss\nabout nothing!\" exclaimed the king.\n\n\"Do you grant it?\" persisted the prince.\n\n\"Of course I do,\" replied the king.\n\n\"Very well. I am ready.\"\n\n\"Go and have some dinner, then, while I set my people to find the\nplace.\"\n\nThe king ordered out his guards, and gave directions to the officers to\nfind the hole in the lake at once. So the bed of the lake was marked out\nin divisions and thoroughly examined, and in an hour or so the hole was\ndiscovered. It was in the middle of a stone, near the centre of the\nlake, in the very pool where the golden plate had been found. It was a\nthree-cornered hole of no great size. There was water all round the\nstone, but very little was flowing through the hole.\n\n\nXIV\n\n_This Is Very Kind of You_\n\nThe prince went to dress for the occasion, for he was resolved to die\nlike a prince.\n\nWhen the princess heard that a man had offered to die for her, she was\nso transported that she jumped off the bed, feeble as she was, and\ndanced about the room for joy. She did not care who the man was; that\nwas nothing to her. The hole wanted stopping; and if only a man would\ndo, why, take one. In an hour or two more everything was ready. Her maid\ndressed her in haste, and they carried her to the side of the lake. When\nshe saw it she shrieked, and covered her face with her hands. They bore\nher across to the stone, where they had already placed a little boat for\nher. The water was not deep enough to float in, but they hoped it would\nbe, before long. They laid her on cushions, placed in the boat wines and\nfruits and other nice things, and stretched a canopy over all.\n\nIn a few minutes the prince appeared. The princess recognised him at\nonce, but did not think it worth while to acknowledge him.\n\n\"Here I am,\" said the prince. \"Put me in.\"\n\n\"They told me it was a shoeblack,\" said the princess.\n\n\"So I am,\" said the prince. \"I blacked your little boots three times a\nday, because they were all I could get of you. Put me in.\"\n\nThe courtiers did not resent his bluntness, except by saying to each\nother that he was taking it out in impudence.\n\nBut how was he to be put in? The golden plate contained no instructions\non this point. The prince looked at the hole, and saw but one way. He\nput both his legs into it, sitting on the stone, and, stooping forward,\ncovered the corner that remained open with his two hands. In this\nuncomfortable position he resolved to abide his fate, and turning to the\npeople, said:\n\n\"Now you can go.\"\n\nThe king had already gone home to dinner.\n\n\"Now you can go,\" repeated the princess after him, like a parrot.\n\nThe people obeyed her and went.\n\nPresently a little wave flowed over the stone, and wetted one of the\nprince's knees. But he did not mind it much. He began to sing, and the\nsong he sang was this:\n\n \"As a world that has no well,\n  Darkly bright in forest dell;\n  As a world without the gleam\n  Of the downward-going stream;\n  As a world without the glance\n  Of the ocean's fair expanse;\n  As a world where never rain\n  Glittered on the sunny plain;--\n  Such, my heart, thy world would be,\n  If no love did flow in thee.\n\n \"As a world without the sound\n  Of the rivulets underground;\n  Or the bubbling of the spring\n  Out of darkness wandering;\n  Or the mighty rush and flowing\n  Of the river's downward going;\n  Or the music-showers that drop\n  On the outspread beech's top;\n  Or the ocean's mighty voice,\n  When his lifted waves rejoice;--Such,\n  my soul, thy world would be,\n  If no love did sing in thee.\n\n \"Lady, keep thy world's delight,\n  Keep the waters in thy sight\n  Love hath made me strong to go,\n  For thy sake, to realms below,\n  Where the water's shine and hum\n  Through the darkness never come.\n  Let, I pray, one thought of me\n  Spring, a little well, in thee;\n  Lest thy loveless soul be found\n  Like a dry and thirsty ground.\"\n\n\"Sing again, prince. It makes it less tedious,\" said the princess.\n\nBut the prince was too much overcome to sing any more, and a long pause\nfollowed.\n\n\"This is very kind of you, prince,\" said the princess at last, quite\ncoolly, as she lay in the boat with her eyes shut.\n\n\"I am sorry I can't return the compliment,\" thought the prince, \"but you\nare worth dying for, after all.\"\n\nAgain a wavelet, and another, and another flowed over the stone, and\nwetted both the prince's knees; but he did not speak or move.\nTwo--three--four hours passed in this way, the princess apparently\nasleep, and the prince very patient. But he was much disappointed in his\nposition, for he had none of the consolation he had hoped for.\n\nAt last he could bear it no longer.\n\n\"Princess!\" said he.\n\nBut at the moment up started the princess, crying:\n\n\"I'm afloat! I'm afloat!\"\n\nAnd the little boat bumped against the stone.\n\n\"Princess!\" repeated the prince, encouraged by seeing her wide awake and\nlooking eagerly at the water.\n\n\"Well?\" said she, without looking round.\n\n\"Your papa promised that you should look at me, and you haven't looked\nat me once.\"\n\n\"Did he? Then I suppose I must. But I am so sleepy!\"\n\n\"Sleep, then, darling, and don't mind me,\" said the poor prince.\n\n\"Really, you are very good,\" replied the princess. \"I think I will go to\nsleep again.\"\n\n\"Just give me a glass of wine and a biscuit first,\" said the prince,\nvery humbly.\n\n\"With all my heart,\" said the princess, and yawned as she said it.\n\nShe got the wine and the biscuit, however, and leaning over the side of\nthe boat towards him, was compelled to look at him.\n\n\"Why, prince,\" she said, \"you don't look well! Are you sure you don't\nmind it?\"\n\n\"Not a bit,\" answered he, feeling very faint indeed. \"Only I shall die\nbefore it is of any use to you, unless I have something to eat,\"\n\n\"There, then,\" said she, holding out the wine to him.\n\n\"Ah! you must feed me. I dare not move my hands. The water would run\naway directly.\"\n\n\"Good gracious!\" said the princess; and she began at once to feed him\nwith bits of biscuit and sips of wine.\n\nAs she fed him, he contrived to kiss the tips of her fingers now and\nthen. She did not seem to mind it, one way or the other. But the prince\nfelt better.\n\n\"Now, for your own sake, princess,\" said he, \"I cannot let you go to\nsleep. You must sit and look at me, else I shall not be able to keep\nup.\"\n\n\"Well, I will do anything to oblige you,\" answered she, with\ncondescension; and, sitting down, she did look at him, and kept looking\nat him with wonderful steadiness, considering all things.\n\nThe sun went down, and the moon rose, and, gush after gush, the waters\nwere rising up the prince's body. They were up to his waist now.\n\n\"Why can't we go and have a swim?\" said the princess. \"There seems to be\nwater enough just about here.\"\n\n\"I shall never swim more,\" said the prince.\n\n\"Oh, I forgot,\" said the princess, and was silent.\n\nSo the water grew and grew, and rose up and up on the prince. And the\nprincess sat and looked at him. She fed him now and then. The night wore\non. The waters rose and rose. The moon rose likewise higher and higher,\nand shone full on the face of the dying prince. The water was up to his\nneck.\n\n\"Will you kiss me, princess?\" said he, feebly. The nonchalance was all\ngone now.\n\n\"Yes, I will,\" answered the princess, and kissed him with a long, sweet,\ncold kiss.\n\n\"Now,\" said he, with a sigh of content, \"I die happy.\"\n\nHe did not speak again. The princess gave him some wine for the last\ntime: he was past eating. Then she sat down again, and looked at him.\nThe water rose and rose. It touched his chin. It touched his lower lip.\nIt touched between his lips. He shut them hard to keep it out. The\nprincess began to feel strange. It touched his upper lip. He breathed\nthrough his nostrils. The princess looked wild. It covered his nostrils.\nHer eyes looked scared, and shone strange in the moonlight. His head\nfell back; the water closed over it, and the bubbles of his last breath\nbubbled up through the water. The princess gave a shriek, and sprang\ninto the lake.\n\nShe laid hold first of one leg, and then of the other, and pulled and\ntugged, but she could not move either. She stopped to take breath, and\nthat made her think that he could not get any breath. She was frantic.\nShe got hold of him, and held his head above the water, which was\npossible now his hands were no longer on the hole. But it was of no use,\nfor he was past breathing.\n\nLove and water brought back all her strength. She got under the water,\nand pulled and pulled with her whole might, till at last she got one leg\nout. The other easily followed. How she got him into the boat she never\ncould tell; but when she did, she fainted away. Coming to herself, she\nseized the oars, kept herself steady as best she could, and rowed and\nrowed, though she had never rowed before. Round rocks, and over\nshallows, and through mud she rowed, till she got to the landing-stairs\nof the palace. By this time her people were on the shore, for they had\nheard her shriek. She made them carry the prince to her own room, and\nlay him in her bed, and light a fire, and send for the doctors.\n\n\"But the lake, your highness!\" said the chamberlain, who, roused by the\nnoise, came in, in his nightcap.\n\n\"Go and drown yourself in it!\" she said.\n\nThis was the last rudeness of which the princess was ever guilty; and\none must allow that she had good cause to feel provoked with the lord\nchamberlain.\n\nHad it been the king himself, he would have fared no better. But both he\nand the queen were fast asleep. And the chamberlain went back to his\nbed. Somehow, the doctors never came. So the princess and her old nurse\nwere left with the prince. But the old nurse was a wise woman, and knew\nwhat to do.\n\nThey tried everything for a long time without success. The princess was\nnearly distracted between hope and fear, but she tried on and on, one\nthing after another, and everything over and over again.\n\nAt last, when they had all but given it up, just as the sun rose, the\nprince opened his eyes.\n\n\nXV\n\n_Look at the Rain_!\n\nThe princess burst into a passion of tears and _fell_ on the floor.\nThere she lay for an hour, and her tears never ceased. All the pent-up\ncrying of her life was spent now. And a rain came on, such as had never\nbeen seen in that country. The sun shone all the time, and the great\ndrops, which fell straight to the earth, shone likewise. The palace was\nin the heart of a rainbow. It was a rain of rubies, and sapphires, and\nemeralds, and topazes. The torrents poured from the mountains like\nmolten gold; and if it had not been for its subterraneous outlet, the\nlake would have overflowed and inundated the country. It was full from\nshore to shore.\n\nBut the princess did not heed the lake. She lay on the floor and wept.\nAnd this rain within doors was far more wonderful than the rain out of\ndoors. For when it abated a little, and she proceeded to rise, she\nfound, to her astonishment, that she could not. At length, after many\nefforts, she succeeded in getting upon her feet. But she tumbled down\nagain directly. Hearing her fall, her old nurse uttered a yell of\ndelight, and ran to her, screaming:\n\n\"My darling child! she's found her gravity!\"\n\n\"Oh, that's it! is it?\" said the princess, rubbing her shoulder and her\nknee alternately. \"I consider it very unpleasant. I feel as if I should\nbe crushed to pieces.\"\n\n\"Hurrah!\" cried the prince from the bed. \"If you've come round,\nprincess, so have I. How's the lake?\"\n\n\"Brimful,\" answered the nurse.\n\n\"Then we're all happy.\"\n\n\"That we are indeed!\" answered the princess, sobbing.\n\nAnd there was rejoicing all over the country that rainy day. Even the\nbabies forgot their past troubles, and danced and crowed amazingly. And\nthe king told stories, and the queen listened to them. And he divided\nthe money in his box, and she the honey in her pot, among all the\nchildren. And there was such jubilation as was never heard of before.\n\nOf course the prince and princess were betrothed at once. But the\nprincess had to learn to walk, before they could be married with any\npropriety. And this was not so easy at her time of life, for she could\nwalk no more than a baby. She was always falling down and hurting\nherself.\n\n\"Is this the gravity you used to make so much of?\" said she one day to\nthe prince, as he raised her from the floor. \"For my part, I was a great\ndeal more comfortable without it.\"\n\n\"No, no, that's not it. This is it,\" replied the prince, as he took her\nup, and carried her about like a baby, kissing her all the time. \"This\nis gravity.\"\n\n\"That's better,\" said she. \"I don't mind that so much.\"\n\nAnd she smiled the sweetest, loveliest smile in the prince's face. And\nshe gave him one little kiss in return for all his; and he thought them\noverpaid, for he was beside himself with delight. I fear she complained\nof her gravity more than once after this, notwithstanding.\n\nIt was a long time before she got reconciled to walking. But the pain of\nlearning it was quite counterbalanced by two things, either of which\nwould have been sufficient consolation. The first was, that the prince\nhimself was her teacher; and the second, that she could tumble into the\nlake as often as she pleased. Still, she preferred to have the prince\njump in with her; and the splash they made before was nothing to the\nsplash they made now.\n\nThe lake never sank again. In process of time it wore the roof of the\ncavern quite through, and was twice as deep as before.\n\nThe only revenge the princess took upon her aunt was to tread pretty\nhard on her gouty toe the next time she saw her. But she was sorry for\nit the very next day, when she heard that the water had undermined her\nhouse, and that it had fallen in the night, burying her in its ruins;\nwhence no one ever ventured to dig up her body. There she lies to this\nday.\n\nSo the prince and princess lived and were happy; and had crowns of gold,\nand clothes of cloth, and shoes of leather, and children of boys and\ngirls, not one of whom was ever known, on the most critical occasion, to\nlose the smallest atom of his or her due proportion of gravity.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIV\n\nBEAUTY AND THE BEAST\n\n\nThere was once a very rich merchant, who had six children, three boys\nand three girls. As he was himself a man of great sense, he spared no\nexpense for their education, but provided them with all sorts of masters\nfor their improvement. The three daughters were all handsome, but\nparticularly the youngest: indeed she was so very beautiful that in her\nchildhood every one called her the Little Beauty, and being still the\nsame when she was grown up, nobody called her by any other name, which\nmade her sisters very jealous of her. This youngest daughter was not\nonly more handsome than her sisters, but was also better tempered. The\ntwo eldest were vain of being rich, and spoke with pride to those they\nthought below them. They gave themselves a thousand airs, and would not\nvisit other merchants' daughters; nor would they indeed be seen with any\nbut persons of quality. They went every day to balls, plays, and public\nwalks, and always made game of their youngest sister for spending her\ntime in reading, or other useful employments. As it was well known that\nthese young ladies would have large fortunes, many great merchants\nwished to get them for wives; but the two eldest always answered that,\nfor their parts, they had no thoughts of marrying any one below a duke,\nor an earl at least. Beauty had quite as many offers as her sisters, but\nshe always answered with the greatest civility, that she was much\nobliged to her lovers, but would rather live some years longer with her\nfather, as she thought herself too young to marry.\n\nIt happened that by some unlucky accident the merchant suddenly lost all\nhis fortune, and had nothing left but a small cottage in the country.\nUpon this, he said to his daughters, while the tears ran down his cheeks\nall the time, \"My children, we must now go and dwell in the cottage, and\ntry to get a living by labour, for we have no other means of support.\"\nThe two eldest replied that, for their parts, they did not know how to\nwork, and would not leave town; for they had lovers enough who would be\nglad to marry them, though they had no longer any fortune. But in this\nthey were mistaken; for when the lovers heard what had happened, they\nsaid, \"The girls were so proud and ill-tempered, that all we wanted was\ntheir fortune; we are not sorry at all to see their pride brought down.\nLet them give themselves airs to their cows and sheep.\" But every body\npitied poor Beauty, because she was so sweet-tempered and kind to all\nthat knew her; and several gentlemen offered to marry her, though she\nhad not a penny; but Beauty still refused, and said she could not think\nof leaving her poor father in this trouble and would go and help him in\nhis labours in the country. At first Beauty could not help sometimes\ncrying in secret for the hardships she was now obliged to suffer; but in\na very short time she said to herself, \"All the crying in the world will\ndo me no good, so I will try to be happy without a fortune.\"\n\nWhen they had removed to their cottage, the merchant and his three sons\nemployed themselves in ploughing and sowing the fields, and working in\nthe garden. Beauty also did her part, for she got up by four o'clock\nevery morning, lighted the fires, cleaned the house, and got the\nbreakfast for the whole family. At first she found all this very hard;\nbut she soon grew quite used to it, and thought it no hardship at all;\nand indeed the work greatly amended her health. When she had done, she\nused to amuse herself with reading, playing on her music, or singing\nwhile she spun. But her two sisters were at a loss what to do to pass\nthe time away: they had their breakfast in bed, and did not rise till\nten o'clock. Then they commonly walked out; but always found themselves\nvery soon tired; when they would often sit down under a shady tree, and\ngrieve for the loss of their carriage and fine clothes, and say to each\nother, \"What a mean-spirited poor stupid creature our young sister is,\nto be so content with our low way of life!\" But their father thought in\nquite another way: he admired the patience of this sweet young creature;\nfor her sisters not only left her to do the whole work of the house, but\nmade game of her every moment.\n\nAfter they had lived in this manner about a year, the merchant received\na letter, which informed him that one of the richest ships, which he\nthought was lost, had just come into port. This news made the two eldest\nsisters almost mad with joy; for they thought they should now leave the\ncottage, and have all their finery again. When they found that their\nfather must take a journey to the ship, the two eldest begged he would\nnot fail to bring them back some new gowns, caps, rings, and all sorts\nof trinkets. But Beauty asked for nothing; for she thought in herself\nthat all the ship was worth would hardly buy every thing her sisters\nwished for. \"Beauty,\" said the merchant, \"how comes it about that you\nask for nothing; what can I bring you, my child?\" \"Since you are so kind\nas to think of me, dear father,\" she answered, \"I should be glad if you\nwould bring me a rose, for we have none in our garden.\" Now Beauty did\nnot indeed wish for a rose, nor any thing else, but she only said this,\nthat she might not affront her sisters, for else they would have said\nshe wanted her father to praise her for not asking him for any thing.\nThe merchant took his leave of them and set out on his journey; but when\nhe got to the ship, some persons went to law with him about the cargo,\nand after a deal of trouble, he came back to his cottage as poor as he\nhad gone away. When he was within thirty miles of his home, and thinking\nof the joy he should have in again meeting his children, his road lay\nthrough a thick forest, and he quite lost himself. It rained and snowed\nvery hard, and besides, the wind was so high as to throw him twice from\nhis horse. Night came on, and he thought to be sure he should die of\ncold and hunger, or be torn to pieces by the wolves that he heard\nhowling round him. All at once, he now cast his eyes towards a long row\nof trees, and saw a light at the end of them, but it seemed a great way\noff. He made the best of his way towards it, and found that it came from\na fine palace, lighted all over. He walked faster, and soon reached the\ngates, which he opened, and was very much surprised that he did not see\na single person or creature in any of the yards. His horse had followed\nhim, and finding a stable with the door open, went into it at once; and\nhere the poor beast, being nearly starved, helped himself to a good meal\nof oats and hay. His master then tied him up, and walked towards the\nhouse, which he entered, but still without seeing a living creature. He\nwent on to a large hall, where he found a good fire, and a table covered\nwith some very nice dishes, and only one plate with a knife and fork. As\nthe snow and rain had wetted him to the skin, he went up to the fire to\ndry himself. \"I hope,\" said he, \"the master of the house or his servants\nwill excuse me, for to be sure it will not be long now before I see\nthem.\" He waited a good time, but still nobody came: at last the clock\nstruck eleven, and the merchant, being quite faint for the want of food,\nhelped himself to a chicken, which he made but two mouthfuls of, and\nthen to a few glasses of wine, yet all the time trembling with fear. He\nsat till the clock struck twelve, but did not see a single creature. He\nnow took courage, and began to think of looking a little more about him;\nso he opened a door at the end of the hall, and went through it into a\nvery grand room, In which there was a fine bed; and as he was quite weak\nand tired, he shut the door, took off his clothes, and got into it.\n\nIt was ten o'clock in the morning before he thought of getting up, when\nhe was amazed to see a handsome new suit of clothes laid ready for him,\ninstead of his own, which he had spoiled. \"To be sure,\" said he to\nhimself, \"this place belongs to some good fairy, who has taken pity on\nmy ill luck.\" He looked out of the window, and, instead of snow, he saw\nthe most charming arbours covered with all kinds of flowers. He returned\nto the hall, where he had supped, and found a breakfast table, with some\nchocolate got ready for him. \"Indeed, my good fairy,\" said the merchant\naloud, \"I am vastly obliged to you for your kind care of me.\" He then\nmade a hearty breakfast, took his hat, and was going to the stable to\npay his horse a visit; but as he passed under one of the arbours, which\nwas loaded with roses, he thought of what Beauty had asked him to bring\nback to her, and so he took a bunch of roses to carry home. At the same\nmoment he heard a most shocking noise, and saw such a frightful beast\ncoming towards him, that he was ready to drop with fear. \"Ungrateful\nman!\" said the beast, in a terrible voice, \"I have saved your life by\nletting you into my palace, and in return you steal my roses, which I\nvalue more than any thing else that belongs to me. But you shall make\namends for your fault with your life. You shall die in a quarter of an\nhour.\" The merchant fell on his knees to the beast, and clasping his\nhands, said, \"My lord, I humbly beg your pardon. I did not think it\nwould offend you to gather a rose for one of my daughters, who wished to\nhave one.\" \"I am not a lord, but a beast,\" replied the monster; \"I do\nnot like false compliments, but that people should say what they think:\nso do not fancy that you can coax me by any such ways. You tell me that\nyou have daughters; now I will pardon you, if one of them will agree to\ncome and die instead of you. Go; and if your daughters should refuse,\npromise me that you yourself will return in three months.\"\n\nThe tender-hearted merchant had no thought of letting any one of his\ndaughters die instead of him; but he knew that if he seemed to accept\nthe beast's terms, he should at least have the pleasure of seeing them\nonce again. So he gave the beast his promise; and the beast told him he\nmight then set off as soon as he liked. \"But,\" said the beast, \"I do not\nwish you to go back empty-handed. Go to the room you slept in, and you\nwill find a chest there; fill it with just what you like best, and I\nwill get it taken to your own house for you,\" When the beast had said\nthis, he went away; and the good merchant said to himself, \"If I must\ndie, yet I shall now have the comfort of leaving my children some\nriches,\" He returned to the room he had slept in, and found a great many\npieces of gold. He filled the chest with them to the very brim, locked\nit, and mounting his horse, left the palace as sorry as he had been glad\nwhen he first found it. The horse took a path across the forest of his\nown accord, and in a few hours they reached the merchant's house. His\nchildren came running round him as he got off his horse; but the\nmerchant, instead of kissing them with joy, could not help crying as he\nlooked at them. He held in his hand the bunch of roses, which he gave to\nBeauty, saying: \"Take these roses, Beauty; but little do you think how\ndear they have cost your poor father;\" and then he gave them an account\nof all that he had seen or heard in the palace of the beast. The two\neldest sisters now began to shed tears, and to lay the blame upon\nBeauty, who they said would be the cause of her father's death \"See,\"\nsaid they, \"what happens from the pride of the little wretch. Why did\nnot she ask for fine things as we did? But, to be sure, miss must not be\nlike other people; and though she will be the cause of her father's\ndeath, yet she does not shed a tear.\" \"It would be of no use,\" replied\nBeauty, \"to weep for the death of my father, for he shall not die now.\nAs the beast will accept of one of his daughters, I will give myself up\nto him; and think myself happy in being able at once to save his life,\nand prove my love for the best of fathers.\" \"No, sister,\" said the three\nbrothers, \"you shall not die; we will go in search for this monster, and\neither he or we will perish.\" \"Do not hope to kill him,\" said the\nmerchant, \"for his power is far too great for you to be able to do any\nsuch thing. I am charmed with the kindness of Beauty, but I will not\nsuffer her life to be lost. I myself am old, and cannot expect to live\nmuch longer; so I shall but give up a few years of my life, and shall\nonly grieve for the sake of my children.\" \"Never, father,\" cried Beauty,\n\"shall you go to the palace without me; for you cannot hinder my going\nafter you. Though young, I am not over fond of life; and I would much\nrather be eaten up by the monster, than die of the grief your loss would\ngive me.\" The merchant tried in vain to reason with Beauty, for she\nwould go; which, in truth, made her two sisters glad, for they were\njealous of her, because everybody loved her.\n\nThe merchant was so grieved at the thoughts of losing his child, that he\nnever once thought of the chest filled with gold; but at night, to his\ngreat surprise, he found it standing by his bedside. He said nothing\nabout his riches to his eldest daughters, for he knew very well it would\nat once make them want to return to town; but he told Beauty his secret,\nand she then said, that while he was away, two gentlemen had been on a\nvisit to their cottage, who had fallen in love with her two sisters. She\nthen begged her father to marry them without delay; for she was so\nsweet-tempered, that she loved them for all they had used her so ill,\nand forgave them with all her heart. When the three months were past,\nthe merchant and Beauty got ready to set out for the palace of the\nbeast. Upon this, the two sisters rubbed their eyes with an onion, to\nmake believe they shed a great many tears; but both the merchant and his\nsons cried in earnest. There was only Beauty who did not, for she\nthought that this would only make the matter worse. They reached the\npalace in a very few hours, and the horse, without bidding, went into\nthe same stable as before. The merchant and Beauty walked towards the\nlarge hall, where they found a table covered with every dainty, and two\nplates laid ready. The merchant had very little appetite; but Beauty,\nthat she might the better hide her grief, placed herself at the table,\nand helped her father; she then began herself to eat, and thought all\nthe time that to be sure the beast had a mind to fatten her before he\neat her up, as he had got such good cheer for her. When they had done\ntheir supper, they heard a great noise, and the good old man began to\nbid his poor child farewell, for he knew it was the beast coming to\nthem. When Beauty first saw his frightful form, she could not help being\nafraid; but she tried to hide her fear as much as she could. The beast\nasked her if she had come quite of her own accord, and though she was\nnow still more afraid than before, she made shift to say, \"Y-e-s.\" \"You\nare a good girl, and I think myself very much obliged to you.\" He then\nturned towards her father, and said to him, \"Good man, you may leave the\npalace to-morrow morning, and take care never to come back to it again.\nGood night, Beauty.\" \"Good night, beast,\" said she; and then the monster\nwent out of the room.\n\n\"Ah! my dear child,\" said the merchant, kissing his daughter, \"I am half\ndead already, at the thoughts of leaving you with this dreadful beast;\nyou had better go back, and let me stay in your place.\" \"No,\" said\nBeauty boldly, \"I will never agree to that; you must go home to-morrow\nmorning.\" They then wished each other good night, and went to bed, both\nof them thinking they should not be able to close their eyes; but as\nsoon as ever they had laid down, they fell into a deep sleep, and did\nnot wake till morning. Beauty dreamed that a lady came up to her, who\nsaid, \"I am very much pleased, Beauty, with the goodness you have shown,\nin being willing to give your life to save that of your father; and it\nshall not go without a reward.\" As soon as Beauty awoke, she told her\nfather this dream; but though it gave him some comfort, he could not\ntake leave of his darling child without shedding many tears. When the\nmerchant got out of sight, Beauty sat down in the large hall, and began\nto cry also; yet she had a great deal of courage, and so she soon\nresolved not to make her sad case still worse by sorrow, which she knew\ncould not be of any use to her, but to wait as well as she could till\nnight, when she thought the beast would not fail to come and eat her up.\nShe walked about to take a view of all the palace, and the beauty of\nevery part of it much charmed her.\n\nBut what was her surprise, when she came to a door on which was written,\n_Beauty's room_! She opened it in haste, and her eyes were all at once\ndazzled at the grandeur of the inside of the room. What made her wonder\nmore than all the rest was a large library filled with books, a\nharpsichord, and many other pieces of music. \"The beast takes care I\nshall not be at a loss how to amuse myself,\" said she. She then thought\nthat it was not likely such things would have been got ready for her, if\nshe had but one day to live; and began to hope all would not turn out so\nbad as she and her father had feared. She opened the library, and saw\nthese verses written in letters of gold on the back of one of the books:\n\n  \"Beauteous lady, dry your tears,\n   Here's no cause for sighs or fears;\n   Command as freely as you may,\n   Enjoyment still shall mark your sway.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said she, sighing, \"there is nothing I so much desire as to see\nmy poor father and to know what he is doing at this moment,\" She said\nthis to herself; but just then by chance, she cast her eyes on a\nlooking-glass that stood near her, and in the glass she saw her home,\nand her father riding up to the cottage in the deepest sorrow. Her\nsisters came out to meet him, but for all they tried to look sorry, it\nwas easy to see that in their hearts they were very glad. In a short\ntime all this picture went away out of the glass: but Beauty began to\nthink that the beast was very kind to her, and that she had no need to\nbe afraid of him. About the middle of the day, she found a table laid\nready for her; and a sweet concert of music played all the time she was\neating her dinner without her seeing a single creature. But at supper,\nwhen she was going to seat herself at table, she heard the noise of the\nbeast, and could not help trembling with fear. \"Beauty,\" said he, \"will\nyou give me leave to see you sup?\" \"That is as you please,\" answered\nshe, very much afraid. \"Not in the least,\" said the beast; \"you alone\ncommand in this place. If you should not like my company, you need only\nto say so, and I will leave you that moment. But tell me, Beauty, do you\nnot think me very ugly?\" \"Why, yes,\" said she, \"for I cannot tell a\nstory; but then I think you are very good.\" \"You are right,\" replied the\nbeast; \"and, besides being ugly, I am also very stupid: I know very well\nenough that I am but a beast.\"\n\n\"I should think you cannot be very stupid,\" said Beauty, \"if you\nyourself know this.\" \"Pray do not let me hinder you from eating,\" said\nhe; \"and be sure you do not want for any thing; for all you see is\nyours, and I shall be vastly grieved if you are not happy.\" \"You are\nvery kind,\" said Beauty: \"I must needs own that I think very well of\nyour good nature, and then I almost forget how ugly you are.\" \"Yes, yes,\nI hope I am good-tempered,\" said he, \"but still I am a monster.\" \"There\nare many men who are worse monsters than you are,\" replied Beauty; \"and\nI am better pleased with you in that form, though it is so ugly, than\nwith those who carry wicked hearts under the form of a man.\" \"If I had\nany sense,\" said the beast, \"I would thank you for what you have said;\nbut I am too stupid to say any thing that would give you pleasure.\"\nBeauty ate her supper with a very good appetite, and almost lost all her\ndread of the monster; but she was ready to sink with fright, when he\nsaid to her, \"Beauty, will you be my wife?\" For a few minutes she was\nnot able to speak a word, for she was afraid of putting him in a\npassion, by refusing. At length she said, \"No, beast.\" The beast made no\nreply, but sighed deeply, and went away. When Beauty found herself\nalone, she began to feel pity for the poor beast. \"Dear!\" said she,\n\"what a sad thing it is that he should be so very frightful, since he is\nso good-tempered!\"\n\nBeauty lived three months in this palace, very well pleased. The beast\ncame to see her every night, and talked with her while she supped; and\nthough what he said was not very clever, yet as she saw in him every day\nsome new mark of his goodness, so instead of dreading the time of his\ncoming, she was always looking at her watch, to see if it was almost\nnine o'clock; for that was the time when he never failed to visit her.\nThere was but one thing that vexed her; which was that every night,\nbefore the beast went away from her, he always made it a rule to ask her\nif she would be his wife, and seemed very much grieved at her saying no.\nAt last, one night, she said to him, \"You vex me greatly, beast, by\nforcing me to refuse you so often; I wish I could take such a liking to\nyou as to agree to marry you, but I must tell you plainly, that I do not\nthink it will ever happen. I shall always be your friend; so try to let\nthat make you easy.\" \"I must needs do so then,\" said the beast, \"for I\nknow well enough how frightful I am; but I love you better than myself.\nYet I think I am very lucky in your being pleased to stay with me; now\npromise me, Beauty, that you will never leave me.\" Beauty was quite\nstruck when he said this, for that very day she had seen in her glass\nthat her father had fallen sick of grief for her sake, and was very ill\nfor the want of seeing her again. \"I would promise you, with all my\nheart,\" said she, \"never to leave you quite; but I long so much to see\nmy father, that if you do not give me leave to visit him I shall die\nwith grief.\" \"I would rather die myself, Beauty,\" answered the beast,\n\"than make you fret; I will send you to your father's cottage, you shall\nstay there, and your poor beast shall die of sorrow.\" \"No,\" said Beauty,\ncrying, \"I love you too well to be the cause of your death; I promise to\nreturn in a week. You have shown me that my sisters are married, and my\nbrothers are gone for soldiers, so that my father is left all alone. Let\nme stay a week with him.\" \"You shall find yourself with him to-morrow\nmorning,\" replied the beast; \"but mind, do not forget your promise. When\nyou wish to return you have nothing to do but to put your ring on a\ntable when you go to bed. Good-bye, Beauty!\" The beast then sighed as he\nsaid these words, and Beauty went to bed very sorry to see him so much\ngrieved. When she awoke in the morning, she found herself in her\nfather's cottage. She rung a bell that was at her bedside, and a servant\nentered; but as soon as she saw Beauty, the woman gave a loud shriek;\nupon which the merchant ran up stairs, and when he beheld his daughter\nhe was ready to die of joy. He ran to the bedside, and kissed her a\nhundred times. At last Beauty began to remember that she had brought no\nclothes with her to put on; but the servant told her she had just found\nin the next room a large chest full of dresses, trimmed all over with\ngold, and adorned with pearls and diamonds.\n\nBeauty in her own mind thanked the beast for his kindness, and put on\nthe plainest gown she could find among them all. She then told the\nservant to put the rest away with a great deal of care, for she intended\nto give them to her sisters; but as soon as she had spoken these words\nthe chest was gone out of sight in a moment. Her father then said,\nperhaps the beast chose for her to keep them all for herself; and as\nsoon as he had said this, they saw the chest standing again in the same\nplace. While Beauty was dressing herself, a servant brought word to her\nthat her sisters were come with their husbands to pay her a visit. They\nboth lived unhappily with the gentlemen they had married. The husband of\nthe eldest was very handsome; but was so very proud of this, that he\nthought of nothing else from morning till night, and did not attend to\nthe beauty of his wife. The second had married a man of great learning;\nbut he made no use of it, only to torment and affront all his friends,\nand his wife more than any of them. The two sisters were ready to burst\nwith spite when they saw Beauty dressed like a princess, and look so\nvery charming. All the kindness that she showed them was of no use; for\nthey were vexed more than ever, when she told them how happy she lived\nat the palace of the beast. The spiteful creatures went by themselves\ninto the garden, where they cried to think of her good fortune. \"Why\nshould the little wretch be better off than we?\" said they. \"We are much\nhandsomer than she is.\" \"Sister,\" said the eldest, \"a thought has just\ncome into my head: let us try to keep her here longer than the week that\nthe beast gave her leave for: and then he will be so angry, that perhaps\nhe will eat her up in a moment.\" \"That is well thought of,\" answered the\nother, \"but to do this we must seem very kind to her.\" They then made up\ntheir minds to be so, and went to join her in the cottage where they\nshowed her so much false love, that Beauty could not help crying for\njoy.\n\nWhen the week was ended, the two sisters began to pretend so much grief\nat the thoughts of her leaving them, that she agreed to stay a week\nmore; but all that time Beauty could not help fretting for the sorrow\nthat she knew her staying would give her poor beast; for she tenderly\nloved him, and much wished for his company again. The tenth night of her\nbeing at the cottage she dreamed she was in the garden of the palace,\nand that the beast lay dying on a grass plot, and, with his last breath,\nput her in mind of her promise, and laid his death to her keeping away\nfrom him; Beauty awoke in a great fright, and burst into tears. \"Am not\nI wicked,\" said she, \"to behave so ill to a beast who has shown me so\nmuch kindness; why will I not marry him? I am sure I should be more\nhappy with him than my sisters are with their husbands. He shall not be\nwretched any longer on my account; for I should do nothing but blame\nmyself all the rest of my life,\"\n\nShe then rose, put her ring on the table, got into bed again, and soon\nfell asleep. In the morning she with joy found herself in the palace of\nthe beast. She dressed herself very finely, that she might please him\nthe better, and thought she had never known a day pass away so slow. At\nlast the clock struck nine, but the beast did not come. Beauty then\nthought to be sure she had been the cause of his death in earnest. She\nran from room to room all over the palace, calling out his name, but\nstill she saw nothing of him. After looking for him a long time, she\nthought of her dream, and ran directly towards the grass plot; and there\nshe found the poor beast lying senseless and seeming dead. She threw\nherself upon his body, thinking nothing at all of his ugliness; and\nfinding his heart still beat, she ran and fetched some water from a pond\nin the garden, and threw it on his face. The beast then opened his eyes,\nand said: \"You have forgot your promise, Beauty. My grief for the loss\nof you has made me resolve to starve myself to death; but I shall die\ncontent, since I have had the pleasure of seeing you once more.\" \"No,\ndear beast,\" replied Beauty, \"you shall not die; you shall live to be my\nhusband: from this moment I offer to marry you, and will be only yours.\nOh! I thought I felt only friendship for you; but the pain I now feel,\nshows me that I could not live without seeing you.\"\n\nThe moment Beauty had spoken these words, the palace was suddenly\nlighted up, and music, fireworks, and all kinds of rejoicings, appeared\nround about them. Yet Beauty took no notice of all this, but watched\nover her dear beast with the greatest tenderness. But now she was all at\nonce amazed to see at her feet, instead of her poor beast, the\nhandsomest prince that ever was seen, who thanked her most warmly for\nhaving broken his enchantment. Though this young prince deserved all her\nnotice, she could not help asking him what was become of the beast. \"You\nsee him at your feet, Beauty,\" answered the prince, \"for I am he. A\nwicked fairy had condemned me to keep the form of a beast till a\nbeautiful young lady should agree to marry me, and ordered me, on pain\nof death, not to show that I had any sense. You, alone, dearest Beauty,\nhave kindly judged of me by the goodness of my heart; and in return I\noffer you my hand and my crown, though I know the reward is much less\nthan what I owe you.\" Beauty, in the most pleasing surprise, helped the\nprince to rise, and they walked along to the palace, when her wonder was\nvery great to find her father and sisters there, who had been brought by\nthe lady Beauty had seen in her dream. \"Beauty,\" said the lady (for she\nwas a fairy), \"receive the reward of the choice you have made. You have\nchosen goodness of heart rather than sense and beauty; therefore you\ndeserve to find them all three joined in the same person. You are going\nto be a great Queen: I hope a crown will not destroy your virtue.\"\n\n\"As for you, ladies,\" said the fairy to the other two sisters, \"I have\nlong known the malice of your hearts, and the wrongs you have done. You\nshall become two statues; but under that form you shall still keep your\nreason, and shall be fixed at the gates of your sister's palace; and I\nwill not pass any worse sentence on you than to see her happy. You will\nnever appear in your own persons again till you are fully cured of your\nfaults; and to tell the truth, I am very much afraid you will remain\nstatues for ever.\"\n\nAt the same moment, the fairy, with a stroke of her wand, removed all\nwho were present to the young prince's country, where he was received\nwith the greatest joy by his subjects. He married Beauty, and passed a\nlong and happy life with her, because they still kept in the same course\nof goodness from which they had never departed.","title":"Fairy Tales Every Child Should Know","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":105002}