{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_33511/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_33511","id":"gutenberg_33511","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/33511","summary":null,"tags":["Category: French Literature","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Short Stories","Children's stories, French -- Translations into English","Fairy tales","Fairy tales -- France"],"text":"Produced by Mark C. Orton and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was\nproduced from images generously made available by The\nInternet Archive)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n    THE TEMPLE CLASSICS\n    FOR YOUNG PEOPLE\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n    TALES _of_ PASSED TIMES\n\n    TOLD BY\n    MASTER CHARLES PERRAULT\n\n    _WITH TWELVE ILLUSTRATIONS BY_\n    CHARLES ROBINSON\n\n\n    LONDON:\n    J.M. DENT & COMPANY\n    ALDINE HOUSE, BEDFORD STREET\n    COVENT GARDEN.\n\n    1900.\n\n\n\n\nIt is to Perrault that we owe our acquaintance with the greater number\nof good old-fashioned fairy-tales, but an edition of these, although it\nincludes such intimate friends of our childhood as Blue Beard, the\nSleeping Beauty, and Little Red Riding-Hood, is hardly complete without\n\"Beauty and the Beast\"; a version of this tale, by Mme. Le Prince de\nBeaumont, has, therefore, been added to this collection. It has also\nbeen increased, space permitting it, by the insertion of two tales by\nMme. la Comtesse d'Aulnoy; her writings, of a less robust class than\nthose of Perrault, possess in their atmosphere of hidden magic, the\ncharm which resides in that special feature of fairyland, and the\naddition of \"The Benevolent Frog\" and \"Princess Rosette\" will not, we\nthink, be unwelcome to the youthful reader.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n                                                          PAGE\n\n    THE SLEEPING BEAUTY IN THE WOOD                          5\n\n    LITTLE RED RIDING-HOOD                                  23\n\n    BLUE BEARD                                              31\n\n    MASTER CAT; OR, PUSS IN BOOTS                           43\n\n    THE FAIRIES                                             55\n\n    CINDERELLA; OR, THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER                63\n\n    RIQUET WITH THE TUFT                                    77\n\n    LITTLE THUMBLING                                        91\n\n    BEAUTY AND THE BEAST                                   109\n\n    THE BENEVOLENT FROG                                    133\n\n    PRINCESS ROSETTE                                       169\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS\n\n\n                                                          PAGE\n\n    CINDERELLA                                  _Frontispiece_\n\n    SHE FELL INTO A SWOON                                    9\n\n    \"GRANDMA, WHAT GREAT EARS YOU HAVE!\"                    25\n\n    \"YOUR TEARS ARE USELESS,\" SAID BLUE BEARD;\n         \"YOU MUST DIE\"                                     37\n\n    PUSS AMONG THE REAPERS                                  47\n\n    SHE GAVE IT TO THE WOMAN                                57\n\n    THE KING'S SON GAVE HER HIS HAND                        67\n\n    \"THEN,\" SAID THE PRINCESS, \"I WISH YOU MAY\n         BE THE HANDSOMEST PRINCE IN THE WORLD\"             85\n\n    THE BOYS FOLLOWED HIM                                   93\n\n    WHEN SHE OPENED HER EYES, SHE SAW, STANDING BESIDE\n         HER, A WOMAN OF GIGANTIC SIZE CLOTHED IN A\n         LION'S SKIN                                       137\n\n    \"OH, YOU ARE JESTING,\" SAID THE KING OF THE\n    PEACOCKS                                               177\n\n\n\n\nTHE SLEEPING BEAUTY IN THE WOOD\n\n\nThere were once a King and Queen, who were very unhappy at not having\nany children, more unhappy than words can tell. Vows, pilgrimages,\neverything was tried, but nothing was of any avail; at length, however,\na little daughter was born to them.\n\nThere was a splendid christening. For godmothers, they gave the young\nPrincess all the fairies they could find in the country--they were seven\nin number--in order that each making her a gift, according to the custom\nof fairies in those days, the Princess might, by these means, become\npossessed of all imaginable perfections. When the ceremony was over, all\nthe company returned to the King's palace, where a great banquet had\nbeen prepared for the fairies. The table was magnificently laid for\nthem, and each had placed for her a massive gold case, containing a\nspoon, a fork, and a knife of fine gold, set with diamonds and rubies.\n\nBut as they were all taking their seats, there was seen to enter an old\nfairy, who had not been invited, for everyone thought that she was\neither dead or enchanted, as she had not been outside the tower in\nwhich she lived for upwards of fifty years. The King ordered a cover to\nbe laid for her, but there was no possibility of giving her a massive\ngold case, such as the others had, because there had been only seven\nmade expressly for the seven fairies. The old fairy thought she was\ntreated with contempt, and muttered some threats between her teeth. One\nof the young fairies, who chanced to be near her, overheard her\ngrumblings, and was afraid she might bestow some evil gift on the young\nPrincess. Accordingly, as soon as they rose from table, she went and hid\nherself behind the hangings, in order to be the last to speak, and so\nenable herself to repair, as far as possible, any harm the old fairy\nmight have done. Meanwhile the fairies began bestowing their gifts on\nthe Princess. The youngest, as her gift, promised that she should be the\nmost beautiful person in the world; the next fairy, that she should have\nthe mind of an angel; the third, that every movement of hers should be\nfull of grace; the fourth, that she should dance to perfection; the\nfifth, that she should sing like a nightingale; the sixth, that she\nshould play on every kind of instrument in the most exquisite manner\npossible. It was now the turn of the old fairy, and she said, while her\nhead shook more with malice than with age, that the Princess should\npierce her hand with a spindle, and die of the wound.\n\nThe whole company trembled when they heard this terrible prediction, and\nthere was not one among them who did not shed tears. At this moment the\nyoung fairy advanced from behind the tapestry, and said, speaking that\nall might hear,--\n\n\"Comfort yourselves, King and Queen; your daughter shall not die of the\nwound. It is true that I have not sufficient power to undo entirely what\nmy elder has done. The Princess will pierce her hand with a spindle,\nbut, instead of dying, she will only fall into a deep sleep, which will\nlast a hundred years, at the end of which time a king's son will come\nand wake her.\"\n\nThe King, in the hope of preventing the misfortune foretold by the old\nfairy, immediately sent forth a proclamation forbidding everyone, on\npain of death, either to spin with a spindle, or to have spindles in\ntheir possession.\n\nFifteen or sixteen years had passed, when, the King and Queen being\nabsent at one of their country houses, it happened that the Princess,\nwhile running about the castle one day, and up the stairs from one room\nto the other, came to a little garret at the top of a turret, where an\nold woman sat alone spinning with distaff and spindle, for this good\nwoman had never heard the King's proclamation forbidding the use of the\nspindle.\n\n\"What are you doing there?\" asked the Princess.\n\n\"I am spinning, my pretty child,\" answered the old woman, who did not\nknow who she was.\n\n\"Oh, how pretty it is!\" exclaimed the Princess. \"How do you do it? Give\nit to me, that I may see if I can do it as well.\"\n\nShe had no sooner taken hold of the spindle, than, being very hasty, and\nrather thoughtless, and moreover, the fairies having ordained that it\nshould be so, she pierced her hand with the point of it, and fainted\naway. The poor old woman was in great distress, and called for help.\nPeople came running from all quarters; they threw water in the\nPrincess's face, they unlaced her dress, they slapped her hands, they\nrubbed her temples with Queen of Hungary's water, but nothing would\nbring her to. The King, who had run upstairs at the noise, then\nremembered the prediction of the fairies, and wisely concluded that this\naccident must have happened as the fairies had said it would. He ordered\nthe Princess to be carried into a beautiful room of the palace, and laid\non a bed embroidered with silver and gold. One might have thought it was\nan angel lying there, so lovely did she look, for the rich colours of\nher complexion had not faded in her swoon; her cheeks were still rosy,\nand her lips like coral. Only, her eyes were closed, but they could hear\nher breathing softly, which showed that she was not dead.\n\nThe King gave orders that she was to be left to sleep there in quiet,\nuntil the hour of her awaking should arrive. The good fairy who had\nsaved her life, by condemning her to sleep for a hundred years, was in\nthe Kingdom of Mataquin, twelve thousand leagues away, when the Princess\nmet with her accident, but she was informed of it instantly by a little\ndwarf, who had a pair of seven-league boots, that is, boots which\nenabled the wearer to take seven leagues at a stride.\n\n[Illustration: \"_She fell into a swoon._\"\n\n_The Sleeping Beauty_]\n\nThe fairy set out immediately, and an hour afterwards she was seen\narriving in a chariot of fire, drawn by dragons.\n\nThe King advanced to hand her out of the chariot. She approved of all he\nhad done, but being gifted with great foresight, she bethought her that\nthe Princess would feel very lost and bewildered on awaking and finding\nherself all alone in the old castle; so this is what the fairy did. With\nher wand she touched everybody who was in the castle, except the King\nand Queen: governesses, maids of honour, women of the bed-chamber,\ngentlemen, officers, stewards, cooks, scullions, boys, guards, porters,\npages, footmen; she also touched the horses that were in the stables\nwith their grooms, the great mastiffs in the courtyard, and little\nFluff, the pet dog of the Princess, that was on the bed beside her. As\nsoon as she had touched them, they all fell asleep, not to wake again\nuntil the hour arrived for their mistress to do so, in order that they\nshould all be ready to attend upon her as soon as she should want them.\nEven the spits before the fire, hung with partridges and pheasants, and\nthe very fire itself, went to sleep. All this was done in a moment, for\nfairies never lost much time over their work.\n\nThe King and Queen now kissed their dear daughter, who still slept on,\nquitted the castle, and issued a proclamation forbidding any person,\nwhosoever, to approach it. These orders were unnecessary, for in a\nquarter of an hour there grew up around the park such a number of trees,\nlarge and small, of brambles and thorns interlacing each other, that\nneither man nor beast could have got through them, and nothing could be\nnow seen of the castle but the tops of the turrets, and they only from\na considerable distance. Nobody doubted that this also was some of the\nfairy's handiwork, in order that the Princess might be protected from\nthe curiosity of strangers during her long slumber.\n\nWhen the hundred years had passed away, the son of the King at that time\nupon the throne, and who was of a different family to that of the\nsleeping Princess, having been hunting in the neighbourhood, inquired\nwhat towers they were that he saw above the trees of a very thick wood.\nEach person answered him according to the story he had heard. Some said\nit was an old castle, haunted by ghosts; others, that all the witches of\nthe country held their midnight revels there. The more general opinion,\nhowever, was that it was the abode of an ogre, and that he carried\nthither all the children he could catch, in order to eat them at his\nleisure, and without being pursued, he alone having the power of making\nhis way through the wood.\n\nThe Prince did not know what to believe of all this, when an old peasant\nspoke in his turn, and said to him, \"Prince, it is more than fifty years\nago since I heard my father say, that there was in that castle the most\nbeautiful Princess that was ever seen; that she was to sleep for a\nhundred years, and would be awakened by a king's son, for whom she was\nintended and was waiting.\"\n\nThe young Prince, at these words, felt himself all on fire. He had not a\nmoment's doubt that he was the one chosen to accomplish this famous\nadventure, and urged to the deed by love and glory, he resolved,\nwithout delay, to see what would come of it.\n\nScarcely had he approached the wood, when all those great trees, all\nthose brambles and thorns, made way for him to pass of their own accord.\nHe walked towards the castle, which he saw at the end of a long avenue\nhe had entered, and he was somewhat surprised to find that none of his\npeople had been able to follow him, the trees having closed up again as\nsoon as he had passed. Nevertheless, he continued to advance; a young\nprince, inspired by love, is always courageous. He came to a large\nfore-court, where everything he saw might well have frozen his blood\nwith terror. A frightful silence reigned around; death seemed everywhere\npresent; on every side, nothing to be seen but the bodies of men and\nanimals stretched out, apparently lifeless. He soon discovered, however,\nby the shining noses and red faces of the porters, that they were only\nasleep; and their goblets, in which still remained a few drops of wine,\nsufficiently proved that they had dozed off whilst drinking.\n\nHe next passed through a large courtyard paved with marble, ascended the\nstaircase, and entered the guard-room, where the guards stood, drawn up\nin line, their carbines shouldered, and snoring their loudest. He\ntraversed several rooms with ladies and gentlemen all asleep, some\nstanding, others seated. At last he came to one covered with gold, and\nthere on a bed, the curtains of which were open on either side, he saw\nthe most lovely sight he had ever looked upon--a Princess, who appeared\nto be about fifteen or sixteen, and whose dazzling beauty shone with a\nradiance which scarcely seemed to belong to this world. He approached,\ntrembling and admiring, and knelt down beside her.\n\nAt that moment, the enchantment being ended, the Princess awoke, and\ngazing at him for the first time with unexpected tenderness, \"Is it you,\nPrince?\" she said; \"I have waited long for you to come.\" The Prince,\ndelighted at these words, and still more by the tone in which they were\nuttered, knew not how to express his joy and gratitude. He assured her\nthat he loved her better than himself. His words were rather confused,\nbut she was all the more pleased with them; there was little eloquence,\nbut a great deal of love. He was much more embarrassed than she was,\nwhich is not to be wondered at. She had had time to think over what she\nshould say to him, for there is reason to believe, although history does\nnot mention it, that during her long, long sleep, the good fairy had let\nher enjoy very pleasant dreams. In short, they talked for four hours\nwithout having said half what they had to say to each other.\n\nIn the meanwhile, all the palace had been roused at the same time as the\nPrincess. Everybody remembered his or her duty, and, as they were not\nall in love, they were dying with hunger. The lady-in-waiting, as hungry\nas any of them, became impatient, and announced loudly to the Princess\nthat the meat was on the table. The Prince assisted the Princess to\nrise; she was fully dressed, and most magnificently, but he was careful\nnot to tell her that she was dressed like his grandmother, and wore a\nstand-up collar, for, in spite of this, she was not a whit less\nbeautiful.\n\nThey passed into a hall of mirrors, where they supped, waited upon by\nthe officers of the Princess. The violins and hautboys played old but\ncharming pieces of music, notwithstanding that it was a hundred years\nsince they had been performed by anybody, and after supper, without loss\nof time, the grand almoner married the royal lovers in the chapel of the\ncastle.\n\nEarly next morning the Prince returned to the city, where he knew his\nfather would be in anxiety about him. The Prince told him that he had\nlost his way in the forest whilst hunting, and that he had slept in the\nhut of a woodcutter, who had given him black bread and cheese to eat.\n\nThe King, his father, who was a simple-minded man, believed him, but his\nmother was not so easily satisfied. She noticed that he went hunting\nnearly every day, and had always some story ready as an excuse, when he\nhad slept two or three nights away from home, and so she felt quite sure\nthat he had a lady-love. More than two years went by and the Princess\nhad two children, the first, which was a girl, was named Aurora, and the\nsecond, a son, was called Day, because he was still more beautiful than\nhis sister.\n\nThe Queen, hoping to find out the truth from her son, often said to him\nthat he ought to form some attachment, but he never dared to trust her\nwith his secret. Although he loved her, he feared her, for she was of\nthe race of ogres, and the King had only married her on account of her\ngreat riches. It was even whispered about the court that she had the\ninclinations of an ogress, and that when she saw little children\npassing, it was with the greatest difficulty that she restrained herself\nfrom pouncing upon them. The Prince, therefore, would never say one word\nto her about his affairs.\n\nOn the death of the King, however, which took place two years later, the\nPrince, being now his own master, made a public declaration of his\nmarriage, and went in great state to bring the Queen, his wife, to the\npalace. She made a magnificent entry into the capital, with her two\nchildren, one on either side of her.\n\nSometime afterwards, the King went to war with his neighbour, the\nEmperor Cantalabute. He left the Queen, his mother, Regent of the\nKingdom, earnestly recommending to her care his wife and children. He\nwas likely to be all summer in the field, and he had no sooner left than\nthe Queen-mother sent her daughter-in-law and the children to a country\nhouse in the wood, so that she might more easily gratify her horrible\nlonging. She followed them thither a few days after, and one evening\nsaid to her head cook, \"I will eat little Aurora for dinner to-morrow.\"\n\"Ah, madam!\" exclaimed the cook. \"I will,\" said the Queen, and she said\nit in the voice of an ogress longing to eat fresh meat; \"and I will have\nher served with my favourite sauce.\"\n\nThe poor man, seeing plainly that an ogress was not to be trifled with,\ntook his great knife and went up to little Aurora's room. She was then\nabout four years old, and came jumping and laughing to throw her arms\nabout his neck, and ask him for sweetmeats. He burst into tears, and\nthe knife fell from his hands; then he went down again and into the\nfarmyard, and there killed a little lamb which he served up with so\ndelicious a sauce, that his mistress assured him she had never eaten\nanything so excellent. In the meanwhile, he had carried off little\nAurora, and given her to his wife, that she might hide her in the\nlodging which she occupied at the further end of the farmyard. A week\nlater, the wicked Queen said to her head cook, \"I will eat little Day\nfor supper.\" He made no reply, having decided in his own mind to deceive\nher as before.\n\nHe went in search of little Day, and found him with a tiny foil in his\nhand, fencing with a great monkey, though he was only three years old.\nHe carried the child to his wife, who hid him where she had hidden his\nsister, and then cooked a very tender little kid in the place of little\nDay, which the ogress thought wonderfully good. All had gone well enough\nso far, but one evening this wicked Queen said to the head cook, \"I\nshould like to eat the Queen with the same sauce that I had with the\nchildren.\"\n\nThen the poor cook was indeed in despair, for he did not know how he\nshould be able to deceive her. The young Queen was over twenty years of\nage, without counting the hundred years she had slept, and no longer\nsuch tender food, although her skin was still white and beautiful, and\nwhere among all his animals should he find one old enough to take her\nplace?\n\nHe resolved at last that, to save his own life, he would kill the Queen,\nand he went up to her room, determined to carry out his purpose without\ndelay. He worked himself up into a passion, and entered the young\nQueen's room, dagger in hand. He did not wish, however, to take her by\nsurprise, and so he repeated to her, very respectfully, the order he had\nreceived from the Queen-mother. \"Do your duty,\" she said, stretching out\nher neck to him; \"obey the orders that have been given you. I shall\nagain see my children, my poor children, whom I loved so dearly,\" for\nshe had thought them dead, ever since they had been carried away from\nher without a word of explanation.\n\n\"No, no, madam!\" replied the poor cook, touched to the quick, \"you shall\nnot die, and you shall see your children again, but it will be in my own\nhouse, where I have hidden them; I will again deceive the Queen-mother\nby serving up to her a young hind in your stead.\"\n\nHe led her forthwith to his own apartments, then, leaving her to embrace\nher children and weep with them, he went and prepared a hind, which the\nQueen ate at her supper with as much appetite as if it had been the\nyoung Queen. She exulted in her cruelty, and intended to tell the King,\non his return, that some ferocious wolves had devoured the Queen, his\nwife, and her two children.\n\nOne evening, while she was prowling, as usual, round the courts and\npoultry-yards of the castle, to inhale the smell of fresh meat, she\noverheard little Day crying in one of the lower rooms, because the\nQueen, his mother, was about to whip him for being naughty, and she also\nheard little Aurora begging forgiveness for her brother. The ogress\nrecognised the voices of the Queen and her children, and, furious at\nhaving been deceived, she gave orders, in a voice that made everybody\ntremble, that the next morning early there should be brought into the\nmiddle of the court a large copper, which she had filled with toads,\nvipers, adders, and serpents, in order to throw into it the Queen and\nher children, the head cook, his wife, and his maid-servant. She further\ncommanded that they should be brought thither with their hands tied\nbehind them.\n\nThere they stood, and the executioners were preparing to fling them into\nthe copper, when the King, who was not expected back so soon, entered\nthe courtyard on horseback. He had ridden post-haste, and in great\nastonishment asked what was the meaning of this horrible spectacle? No\none dared tell him, when the ogress, enraged at what she saw, flung\nherself head foremost into the copper, where she was instantly devoured\nby the horrid reptiles, with which she had herself caused it to be\nfilled. The King could not help being sorry for it; she was his mother;\nbut he quickly consoled himself with his beautiful wife and children.\n\n    Some time for a husband to wait\n      Who is young, handsome, wealthy and tender,\n    May not be a hardship too great\n      For a maid whom love happy would render.\n    But to be for a century bound\n      To live single, I fancy the number\n    Of Beauties but small would be found\n      So long who could patiently slumber.\n\n    To lovers who hate time to waste,\n      And minutes as centuries measure,\n    I would hint, those who marry in haste\n      May live to repent it at leisure\n    Yet so ardently onwards they press,\n      And on prudence so gallantly trample,\n    That I haven't the heart, I confess,\n      To urge on them Beauty's example.\n\n\n\n\nLITTLE RED RIDING-HOOD\n\n\nThere was once upon a time a little village girl, the prettiest ever\nseen or known, of whom her mother was dotingly fond. Her grandmother was\neven fonder of her still, and had a little red hood made for the child,\nwhich suited her so well, that wherever she went, she was known by the\nname of Little Red Riding-Hood.\n\nOne day, her mother having baked some cakes, said to her, \"Go and see\nhow your grandmother is getting on, for I have been told she is ill;\ntake her a cake and this little jar of butter.\" Whereupon Little Red\nRiding-Hood started off without delay towards the village in which her\ngrandmother lived. On her way she had to pass through a wood, and there\nshe met that sly old fellow, Mr Wolf, who felt that he should very much\nlike to eat her up on the spot, but was afraid to do so, as there were\nwoodcutters at hand in the forest. He asked her which way she was going,\nand the poor child, not knowing how dangerous it is to stop and listen\nto a wolf, answered, \"I am going to see my grandmother, and am taking a\ncake and a little jar of butter, which my mother has sent her.\"\n\n\"Does she live far from here?\" asked the Wolf.\n\n\"Oh, yes!\" replied Little Red Riding-Hood, \"on the further side of the\nmill that you see down there; hers is the first house in the village.\"\n\n\"Well, I was thinking of going to visit her myself,\" rejoined the Wolf,\n\"so I will take this path, and you take the other, and we will see which\nof us gets there first.\"\n\nThe Wolf then began running off as fast as he could along the shorter\nway, which he had chosen, while the little girl went by the longer way,\nand amused herself with stopping to gather nuts, or run after\nbutterflies, and with making little nosegays of all the flowers she\ncould find.\n\nIt did not take the Wolf long to reach the grandmother's house; he\nknocked: tap, tap.\n\n\"Who is there?\"\n\n\"It is your grand-daughter, Little Red Riding-Hood,\" answered the Wolf,\nimitating the child's voice. \"I have brought a cake and a little jar of\nbutter, which my mother has sent you.\" The good grandmother, who was ill\nin bed, called out, \"Pull the bobbin, and the latch will go up.\" The\nWolf pulled the bobbin, and the door opened. He leaped on to the poor\nold woman, and ate her up in less than no time, for he had been three\ndays without food. He then shut the door again, and laid himself down in\nthe grandmother's bed, to wait for Little Red Riding-Hood. Presently she\ncame and knocked at the door: tap, tap.\n\n[Illustration: '_Grandma, what great ears you have!_'\n\n_Little Red Riding-Hood_]\n\n\"Who is there?\" Little Red Riding-Hood was frightened at first, on\nhearing the Wolf's gruff voice, but thinking that her grandmother had a\ncold, she answered,--\n\n\"It is your grand-daughter, Little Red Riding-Hood. I have brought a\ncake and a little jar of butter, which my mother has sent you.\"\n\nThe Wolf called out, this time in rather a softer voice, \"Pull the\nbobbin, and the latch will go up.\" Little Red Riding-Hood pulled the\nbobbin, and the door opened.\n\nWhen the Wolf saw her come in, he hid himself under the bedclothes, and\nsaid to her, \"Put the cake and the little jar of butter in the cupboard,\nand come into bed with me.\"\n\nLittle Red Riding-Hood undressed, and went to the bedside, and was very\nmuch astonished to see how different her grandmother looked to what she\ndid when she was up and dressed.\n\n\"Grandmother,\" she exclaimed, \"what long arms you have!\"\n\n\"All the better to embrace you with, my little girl.\"\n\n\"Grandmother, what long legs you have!\"\n\n\"All the better to run with, child.\"\n\n\"Grandmother, what long ears you have!\"\n\n\"All the better to hear with, child.\"\n\n\"Grandmother, what large eyes you have!\"\n\n\"All the better to see with, child.\"\n\n\"Grandmother, what large teeth you have!\"\n\n\"All the better to eat you with!\" and saying these words, the wicked\nWolf sprang out upon Little Red Riding-Hood, and ate her up.\n\n\nMORAL\n\n    Now, children, take warning, and chiefly, I pray,\n      You maidens so gentle and fair,\n    When you come across all kinds of folk, have a care\n      Not to listen to what they may say;\n    For it can't be thought strange if you do,\n    Should the Wolf choose to eat up a few.\n    _The_ Wolf, I say here, for you'll find\n    Wolves are many, and vary in kind;\n    There are some, easy-mannered and tame,\n    Without malice, or temper, the same,\n    Most obliging and sweet in their way,\n    Like to follow their tender young prey,\n    And will track them right into their homes--lack-a-day!\n    Who among us has not learnt by this time to know,\n    The most dangerous of wolves is the soft, smooth-tongued foe!\n\n\n\n\nBLUE BEARD\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a man who had fine houses in town and\ncountry, gold and silver plate, embroidered furniture, and coaches gilt\nall over; but, unfortunately, this man had a blue beard, which made him\nlook so ugly and terrible, that there was not a woman or girl who did\nnot run away from him.\n\nOne of his neighbours, a lady of rank, had two daughters, who were\nperfectly beautiful. He proposed to marry one of them, leaving the\nmother to choose which of the two she would give him. Neither of the\ndaughters, however, would have him, and they sent him from one to the\nother, each being unable to make up her mind to marry a man with a blue\nbeard. A further reason which they had for disliking him was, that he\nhad already been married several times, and nobody knew what had become\nof his wives. Blue Beard, in order to improve the acquaintance, took the\ngirls with their mother, three or four of their most intimate friends,\nand some other young people who resided in the neighbourhood, to one of\nhis country seats, where they spent an entire week. Nothing was thought\nof but excursions, hunting and fishing-parties, balls, entertainments,\nsuppers; nobody went to bed; the whole night was passed in games and\nplaying merry tricks on one another. In short, all went off so well,\nthat the youngest daughter began to think that the beard of the master\nof the house was not so blue as it used to be, and that he was a very\nworthy man. Immediately upon their return to town the marriage took\nplace.\n\nAt the end of a month, Blue Beard told his wife that he was obliged to\ntake a journey, which would keep him away from home for six weeks at\nleast, as he had business of great importance to attend to. He begged\nher to amuse herself as well as she could during his absence, to invite\nher best friends, and, if she liked, take them into the country, and\nwherever she was, to have the best of everything for the table.\n\n\"Here,\" said he to her, \"are the keys of my two large store-rooms; these\nare those of the chests in which the gold and silver plate, not in\ngeneral use, is kept; these are the keys of the strong boxes in which I\nkeep my money; these open the caskets that contain my jewels, and this\nis the master-key of all the rooms. As for this little key, it is that\nof the closet at the end of the long gallery on the ground floor. Open\neverything, and go everywhere except into that little closet, which I\nforbid you to enter, and I forbid you so strictly, that if you should\nventure to open the door, there is nothing that you may not have to\ndread from my anger!\" She promised to obey his orders to the letter,\nand, after having embraced her, he got into his coach and set out on his\njourney.\n\nThe friends and neighbours of the young bride did not wait for her\ninvitation, so eager were they to see all the rich treasures in the\nhouse, and not having ventured to visit her while her husband was at\nhome, so frightened were they at his blue beard. They were soon to be\nseen running through all the rooms, and into the closets and wardrobes,\neach one more beautiful and splendid than the last. Then they went\nupstairs to the store-rooms; there they could not sufficiently express\ntheir admiration at the number and beauty of the hangings, the beds, the\nsofas, the cabinets, the elegant little stands, the tables, the mirrors\nin which they could see themselves from head to foot, framed some with\nglass, some with silver, some with gilt metal, all of a costliness\nbeyond what had ever before been seen. They never ceased enlarging upon,\nand envying, the good fortune of their friend, who, meanwhile, took no\npleasure in the sight of all these treasures, so great was her longing\nto go and open the door of the closet on the ground floor. Her curiosity\nat last reached such a pitch that, without stopping to consider how rude\nit was to leave her guests, she ran down a little back staircase leading\nto the closet, and in such haste that she nearly broke her neck two or\nthree times before she reached the bottom. At the door of the closet she\npaused for a moment, calling to mind her husband's prohibition, and\nreflecting that some trouble might fall upon her for her disobedience;\nbut the temptation was so strong that she could not resist it. So she\ntook the little key, and with a trembling hand opened the door of the\ncloset.\n\nAt first she could distinguish nothing, for the windows were closed; in\na few minutes, however, she began to see that the floor was covered with\nblood, in which was reflected the bodies of several dead women hanging\non the walls. These were all the wives of Blue Beard, who had killed\nthem one after another. She was ready to die with fright, and the key,\nwhich she had taken out of the lock, fell from her hand.\n\nAfter recovering her senses a little, she picked up the key, locked the\ndoor again, and went up to her room to try and compose herself; but she\nfound it impossible to quiet her agitation.\n\nShe now perceived that the key of the closet was stained with blood; she\nwiped it two or three times, but the blood would not come off. In vain\nshe washed it, and even scrubbed it with sand and free-stone, the stain\nwas still there, for the key was an enchanted one, and there were no\nmeans of cleaning it completely; when the blood was washed off one side,\nit came back on the other.\n\nBlue Beard returned that very evening, and said that he had received\nletters on the road, telling him that the business on which he was going\nhad been settled to his advantage.\n\nHis wife did all she could to make him believe that she was delighted at\nhis speedy return.\n\nThe next morning he asked her for his keys again; she gave them to him;\nbut her hand trembled so, that he had not much difficulty in guessing\nwhat had happened.\n\n\"How comes it,\" said he, \"that the key of the closet is not with the\nothers?\"\n\n\"I must have left it,\" she replied, \"upstairs on my table.\"\n\n\"Fail not,\" said Blue Beard, \"to give it me presently.\"\n\nAfter several excuses, she was obliged to go and fetch the key. Blue\nBeard having examined it, said to his wife, \"Why is there blood on this\nkey?\" \"I don't know,\" answered the poor wife, paler than death.\n\n\"You don't know!\" rejoined Blue Beard; \"I know well enough. You must\nneeds go into the closet. Well, madam, you shall go in again, and take\nyour place among the ladies you saw there.\"\n\nShe flung herself at her husband's feet, weeping and begging his pardon,\nwith all the signs of a true repentance at having disobeyed him. Her\nbeauty and sorrow might have melted a rock, but Blue Beard had a heart\nharder than rock.\n\n\"You must die, madam,\" said he, \"and at once.\"\n\n\"If I must die,\" she replied, looking at him with streaming eyes, \"give\nme a little time to say my prayers.\"\n\n\"I give you half a quarter of an hour,\" answered Blue Beard, \"not a\nminute more.\"\n\nAs soon as she found herself alone, she called her sister, and said to\nher, \"Sister Anne\"--for so she was named--\"go up, I pray you, to the top\nof the tower, and see if my brothers are not in sight. They promised\nthey would come to visit me to-day, and if you see them, sign to them to\nmake haste.\"\n\nSister Anne mounted to the top of the tower, and the poor unhappy wife\ncalled to her from time to time, \"Anne! Sister Anne! do you not see\nanything coming?\" and Sister Anne answered her, \"I see nothing but the\ndust turning gold in the sun, and the grass growing green.\"\n\nMeanwhile, Blue Beard, with a large cutlass in his hand, called out with\nall his might to his wife, \"Come down quickly, or I shall come up\nthere.\" \"One minute more, if you please,\" replied his wife; and then\nsaid quickly in a low voice, \"Anne! Sister Anne! do you not see anything\ncoming?\" And Sister Anne answered, \"I see nothing but the dust turning\ngold in the sun, and the grass growing green.\"\n\n\"Come down quickly,\" roared Blue Beard, \"or I shall come up there.\"\n\n\"I am coming,\" answered his wife; and then called \"Anne! Sister Anne! do\nyou not see anything coming?\"\n\n\"I see a great cloud of dust moving this way,\" said Sister Anne.\n\n\"Is it my brothers?\"\n\n\"Alas! no, sister, only a flock of sheep.\"\n\n\"Will you not come down?\" shouted Blue Beard.\n\n\"One minute more,\" replied his wife; and then she cried, \"Anne! Sister\nAnne! do you not see anything coming?\"\n\n\"I see two horsemen coming this way,\" she replied, \"but they are still a\ngreat distance off. Heaven be praised!\" she exclaimed a moment\nafterwards. \"They are my brothers! I am making all the signs I can to\nhasten them.\"\n\n[Illustration: _\"Your tears are useless\" said Bluebeard, \"you must\ndie!\"_ _Bluebeard._]\n\nBlue Beard began to roar so loudly that the whole house shook again. The\npoor wife went down and threw herself at his feet with weeping eyes and\ndishevelled hair. \"It is of no use,\" said Blue Beard; \"you must die!\"\nThen, taking her by the hair with one hand, and raising the cutlass with\nthe other, he was about to cut off her head.\n\nThe poor wife, turning towards him her dying eyes, begged him to give\nher one short moment to collect herself. \"No, no,\" said he; \"commend\nyourself to heaven,\" and, lifting his arm.... At this moment there was\nsuch a loud knocking at the gate that Blue Beard stopped short. It was\nopened, and two horsemen were immediately seen to enter, who, drawing\ntheir swords, ran straight at Blue Beard. He recognised them as the\nbrothers of his wife, one a dragoon, the other a musketeer, and he\ntherefore fled at once, hoping to escape; but they pursued him so\nclosely that they overtook him before he could reach the steps to his\ndoor, and, running their swords through his body, left him dead on the\nspot. The poor wife was almost as dead as her husband, and had not\nstrength to rise and embrace her brothers.\n\nIt was found that Blue Beard had left no heirs, and so his widow came\ninto possession of all his property. She employed part of it in marrying\nher Sister Anne to a man who had long loved her; another part in buying\ncaptains' commissions for her two brothers; and with the remainder she\nmarried herself to a very worthy man, who made her forget the dreadful\ntime she had passed with Blue Beard.\n\n    Provided one has common sense,\n    And of the world but knows the ways,\n    This story bears the evidence\n    Of being one of bygone days.\n    No husband now is so terrific,\n    Impossibilities expecting:\n    Though jealous, he is still pacific,\n    Indifference to his wife affecting.\n    And of his beard, whate'er the hue,\n    His spouse need fear no such disaster;\n    Indeed, 'twould often puzzle you\n    To say which of the twain is master.\n\n\n\n\nMASTER CAT; OR, PUSS IN BOOTS\n\n\nA miller bequeathed to his three sons all he possessed of worldly goods,\nwhich consisted only of his Mill, his Ass, and his Cat. It did not take\nlong to divide the property, and neither notary nor attorney was called\nin; they would soon have eaten up the poor little patrimony. The eldest\nson had the Mill; the second son, the Ass; and the youngest had nothing\nbut the Cat.\n\nThe latter was very disconsolate at having such a poor share of the\ninheritance. \"My brothers,\" said he, \"may be able to earn an honest\nlivelihood by entering into partnership; but, as for me, when I have\neaten my Cat and made a muff of his skin, I must die of hunger.\" The\nCat, who had heard this speech, although he had not appeared to do so,\nsaid to him with a sedate and serious air, \"Do not be troubled, master;\nyou have only to give me a bag, and get a pair of boots made for me in\nwhich I can go among the bushes, and you will see that you are not left\nso badly off as you believe.\" Though his master did not place much\nreliance on the Cat's words, he had seen him play such cunning tricks in\ncatching rats and mice, when he would hang himself up by the heels, or\nhide in the flour pretending to be dead, that he was not altogether\nwithout hope of being helped by him out of his distress.\n\nAs soon as the Cat had what he asked for, he boldly pulled on his boots,\nand, hanging his bag round his neck, he took the strings of it in his\nfore-paws, and started off for a warren where there were a great number\nof rabbits. He put some bran and sow-thistles in his bag, and then,\nstretching himself out as if he were dead, he waited till some young\nrabbit, little versed in the wiles of the world, should come and poke\nhis way into the bag, in order to eat what was inside it.\n\nHe had hardly laid himself down before he had the pleasure of seeing a\nyoung scatterbrain of a rabbit get into the bag, whereupon Master Cat\npulled the strings, caught it, and killed it without mercy. Proud of his\nprey, he went to the palace, and asked to speak to the King. He was\nushered upstairs and into the state apartment, and, after making a low\nbow to the King, he said, \"Sire, here is a wild rabbit, which my Lord\nthe Marquis of Carabas--for such was the title he had taken a fancy to\ngive to his master--has ordered me to present, with his duty, to your\nMajesty.\"\n\n\"Tell your master,\" replied the King, \"that I thank him and am pleased\nwith his gift.\"\n\nAnother day he went and hid himself in the wheat, keeping the mouth of\nhis bag open as before, and as soon as he saw that a brace of partridges\nhad run inside, he pulled the strings, and so took them both. He went\nimmediately and presented them to the King, as he had the rabbits. The\nKing was equally grateful at receiving the brace of partridges, and\nordered drink to be given him.\n\nFor the next two or three months, the Cat continued in this manner,\ntaking presents of game at intervals to the King, as if from his master.\nOne day, when he knew the King was going to drive on the banks of the\nriver, with his daughter, the most beautiful Princess in the world, he\nsaid to his master, \"If you will follow my advice, your fortune is made;\nyou have only to go and bathe in a part of the river I will point out to\nyou, and then leave the rest to me.\"\n\nThe Marquis of Carabas did as his Cat advised him, without knowing what\ngood would come of it. While he was bathing, the King passed by, and the\nCat began to call out with all his might, \"Help! Help! My Lord the\nMarquis of Carabas is drowning!\" Hearing the cry, the King looked out of\nthe coach window, and recognising the Cat who had so often brought him\ngame, he ordered his guards to fly to the help of my Lord the Marquis of\nCarabas. Whilst they were getting the poor Marquis out of the river, the\nCat went up to the royal coach, and told the King that, while his master\nhad been bathing, some robbers had come and carried off his clothes,\nalthough he had shouted, \"Stop thief,\" as loud as he could. The rogue\nhad hidden them himself under a large stone. The King immediately\nordered the officers of his wardrobe to go and fetch one of his\nhandsomest suits for my Lord the Marquis of Carabas. The King embraced\nhim a thousand times, and as the fine clothes they dressed him in set\noff his good looks--for he was handsome and well made--the Marquis of\nCarabas quite took the fancy of the King's daughter, and after he had\ncast two or three respectful and rather tender glances towards her, she\nfell very much in love with him. The King insisted upon his getting into\nthe coach, and accompanying them in their drive. The Cat, delighted to\nsee that his plans were beginning to succeed, ran on before, and coming\nacross some peasants who were mowing a meadow, he said to them, \"You,\ngood people, who are mowing here, if you do not tell the King that this\nmeadow you are mowing belongs to my Lord the Marquis of Carabas, you\nshall all be cut in pieces as small as minced meat.\" The King did not\nfail to ask the peasants whose meadow it was they were mowing. \"It\nbelongs to my Lord the Marquis of Carabas,\" said they all together, for\nthe Cat's threat had frightened them. \"You have a fine property there,\"\nsaid the King to the Marquis of Carabas.\n\n\"As you say, sire,\" responded the Marquis of Carabas, \"for it is a\nmeadow which yields an abundant crop every year.\"\n\nMaster Cat, who still kept in advance of the party, came up to some\nreapers, and said to them, \"You, good people, who are reaping, if you do\nnot say that all this corn belongs to my Lord the Marquis of Carabas,\nyou shall all be cut into pieces as small as minced meat.\"\n\n[Illustration: _Puss among the reapers._]\n\nThe King, who passed by a minute afterwards, wished to know to whom\nbelonged all the cornfields he saw. \"To my Lord the Marquis of Carabas,\"\nrepeated the reapers, and the King again congratulated the Marquis on\nhis property.\n\nThe Cat, still continuing to run before the coach, uttered the same\nthreat to everyone he met, and the King was astonished at the great\nwealth of my Lord the Marquis of Carabas. Master Cat at length arrived\nat a fine castle, the owner of which was an ogre, the richest ogre ever\nknown, for all the lands through which the King had driven belonged to\nthe Lord of this castle. The Cat took care to find out who the ogre was,\nand what he was able to do; then he asked to speak with him, saying that\nhe did not like to pass so near his castle without doing himself the\nhonour of paying his respects to him. The ogre received him as civilly\nas an ogre can, and made him sit down.\n\n\"I have been told,\" said the Cat, \"that you have the power of changing\nyourself into all kinds of animals; that you could, for instance,\ntransform yourself into a lion or an elephant.\"\n\n\"'Tis true,\" said the ogre, abruptly, \"and to prove it to you, you shall\nsee me become a lion.\" The Cat was so frightened when he saw a lion in\nfront of him, that he quickly scrambled up into the gutter, not without\ndifficulty and danger, on account of his boots, which were worse than\nuseless for walking on the tiles. Shortly afterwards, seeing that the\nogre had resumed his natural form, the Cat climbed down again, and\nadmitted that he had been terribly frightened. \"I have also been\nassured,\" said the Cat, \"but I cannot believe it, that you have the\npower besides of taking the form of the smallest animal; for instance,\nthat of a rat, or a mouse; I confess to you I hold this to be utterly\nimpossible.\" \"Impossible!\" exclaimed the ogre, \"you shall see!\" and he\nimmediately changed himself into a mouse, and began running about the\nfloor. The cat no sooner caught sight of it, than he pounced upon it and\nate it.\n\nIn the meanwhile, the King, seeing the fine castle of the ogre as he was\ndriving past, thought he should like to go inside. The Cat, who heard\nthe noise of the coach rolling over the draw-bridge, ran to meet it, and\nsaid to the King, \"Your Majesty is welcome to the Castle of my Lord the\nMarquis of Carabas!\"\n\n\"How, my Lord Marquis,\" exclaimed the King, \"this castle belongs to you?\nNothing could be finer than this courtyard, and all these buildings\nwhich surround it. Let us see the inside of it, if you please.\"\n\nThe Marquis handed out the young Princess, and following the King, who\nled the way upstairs, they entered a grand hall, where they found\nprepared a magnificent repast, which the ogre had ordered in expectation\nof some friends, who were to have visited him that very day, but who did\nnot venture to enter when they heard the King was there. The King, as\ngreatly delighted with the excellent qualities of my Lord the Marquis of\nCarabas as his daughter, who was more than ever in love with him, seeing\nwhat great wealth he possessed, said to him, after having drunk five or\nsix bumpers, \"It depends entirely on yourself, my Lord Marquis, whether\nor not you become my son-in-law.\" The Marquis, making several profound\nbows, accepted the honour the King offered him, and that same day was\nmarried to the Princess. The Cat became a great lord, and never again\nran after mice, except for his amusement.\n\n    Be the advantage never so great\n    Of owning a superb estate,\n      From sire to son descended,\n    Young men oft find, on industry,\n    Combined with ingenuity,\n      They'd better have depended.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    If the son of a miller so quickly could gain\n    The heart of a Princess, it seems pretty plain,\n    With good looks and good manners, and some aid from dress,\n    The humblest need not quite despair of success.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FAIRIES\n\n\nThere was once a widow who had two daughters. The elder was so like her\nmother in temper and face, that to have seen the one was to have seen\nthe other. They were both so disagreeable and proud, that it was\nimpossible to live with them. The younger, who was the exact portrait of\nher father in her kindly and polite ways, was also as beautiful a girl\nas one could see. As we are naturally fond of those who resemble us, the\nmother doted on her elder daughter, while for the younger she had a most\nviolent aversion, and made her take her meals in the kitchen and work\nhard all day. Among other things that she was obliged to do, this poor\nchild was forced to go twice a day to fetch water from a place a mile or\nmore from the house, and carry back a large jug filled to the brim. As\nshe was standing one day by this spring, a poor woman came up to her,\nand asked the girl to give her some water to drink.\n\n\"Certainly, my good woman,\" she replied, and the beautiful girl at once\nstooped and rinsed out the jug, and then, filling it with water from the\nclearest part of the spring, she held it up to the woman, continuing to\nsupport the jug, that she might drink with greater comfort. Having\ndrunk, the woman said to her, \"You are so beautiful, so good and kind,\nthat I cannot refrain from conferring a gift upon you,\" for she was\nreally a fairy, who had taken the form of a poor village woman, in order\nto see how far the girl's kind-heartedness would go. \"This gift I make\nyou,\" continued the fairy, \"that with every word you speak, either a\nflower or a precious stone will fall from your mouth.\"\n\nThe girl had no sooner reached home than her mother began scolding her\nfor being back so late. \"I am sorry, mother,\" said she, \"to have been\nout so long,\" and as she spoke, there fell from her mouth two roses, two\npearls, and two large diamonds. The mother gazed at her in astonishment.\n\"What do I see!\" she exclaimed, \"Pearls and diamonds seem to be dropping\nfrom her mouth! How is this, my daughter?\"--it was the first time she\nhad called her _daughter_. The poor child related in all simplicity what\nhad happened, letting fall quantities of diamonds in the course of her\nnarrative. \"I must certainly send my other daughter there,\" said the\nmother. \"Look, Fanchon, see what falls from your sister's mouth when she\nspeaks! Would you not be glad to receive a similar gift? All you have to\ndo, is to go and fetch water from the spring, and if an old woman asks\nyou for some to drink, to give it her nicely and politely.\" \"I should\nlike to see myself going to the spring,\" answered the rude, cross girl.\n\n\"I insist on your going,\" rejoined the mother, \"and that at once.\"\n\n[Illustration: '_She gave it to the Woman._']\n\nThe elder girl went off, still grumbling; with her she took the\nhandsomest silver bottle she could find in the house.\n\nShe had no sooner arrived at the spring, than she saw a lady\nmagnificently dressed walking towards her from the wood, who approached\nand asked for some water to drink. It was the same fairy who had\nappeared to the sister, but she had now put on the airs and apparel of a\nprincess, as she wished to see how far this girl's rudeness would go.\n\"Do you think I came here just to draw water for you?\" answered the\narrogant and unmannerly girl; \"I have, of course, brought this silver\nbottle on purpose for madam to drink from! Well, all I have to say\nis--drink from it if you like.\"\n\n\"You are scarcely polite,\" said the fairy, without losing her temper;\n\"however, as you are so disobliging, I confer this gift upon you, that\nwith every word you speak, a snake or a toad shall fall from your\nmouth.\"\n\nDirectly her mother caught sight of her, she called out, \"Well, my\ndaughter!\" \"Well, my mother!\" replied the ill-tempered girl, throwing\nout as she spoke two vipers and two toads. \"Alack!\" cried the mother,\n\"what do I see? This is her sister's doing, but I will pay her out for\nit,\" and, so saying, she ran towards the younger girl with intent to\nbeat her. The unhappy girl fled from the house, and went and hid herself\nin a neighbouring forest. The King's son, who was returning from\nhunting, met her, and seeing how beautiful she was, asked her what she\nwas doing there all alone, and why she was crying. \"Alas! sir, my\nmother has driven me from home.\" The King's son, seeing five or six\npearls and as many diamonds, falling from her mouth as she spoke, asked\nher to explain how this was, and she told him all her tale. The King's\nson fell in love with her, and thinking that such a gift as she\npossessed was worth more than any ordinary dower brought by another, he\ncarried her off to his father's palace, and there married her.\n\nAs for her sister, she made herself so hated, that her own mother drove\nher from the house. The miserable girl, having gone about in vain trying\nto find someone who would take her in, crept away into the corner of a\nwood, and there died.\n\n    Of higher worth are gentle words\n      Than diamonds or gold,\n    And even o'er the minds of men\n      A great power they hold.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    It costs some pains to be polite,\n      And needs some kindly thought,\n    But soon or late, as here you see,\n      Reward will come unsought.\n\n\n\n\nCINDERELLA; OR, THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a nobleman, who took for a second wife the\nhaughtiest and proudest woman that had ever been seen. She had two\ndaughters of the same temper, and who resembled her in everything. The\nhusband, on his side, had a daughter, of unexampled gentleness and\ngoodness. She inherited these qualities from her mother, who had been\nthe best creature in the world.\n\nThe wedding was hardly over before the stepmother's ill-humour broke\nout. She could not endure the young girl, whose good qualities made her\nown daughters appear still more detestable. She put her to do all the\nmost menial work in the house. It was she who washed up the plates and\ndishes, and cleaned the stairs; who scrubbed the stepmother's room, and\nthose of her daughters. She slept in a garret at the top of the house,\non a wretched straw mattress, while her sisters occupied rooms with\ninlaid floors, and had the latest fashioned beds, and mirrors in which\nthey could see themselves from head to foot. The poor girl bore\neverything with patience, and did not dare complain to her father, who\nwould only have scolded her, as he was entirely governed by his wife.\nWhen she had done her work, she was in the habit of going into the\nchimney-corner and sitting down amongst the cinders, which caused her to\nbe nicknamed Cindertail by the household in general. The second\ndaughter, however, who was not quite so rude as her sister, called her\nCinderella. Nevertheless, Cinderella in her shabby clothes, still looked\na thousand times more beautiful than her sisters, although so\nmagnificently dressed.\n\nIt happened that the King's son gave a ball, to which he invited\neveryone of position. Our two fine ladies were among those who received\nan invitation, for they made a great show in the neighbourhood. They\nwere now in great delight, and very busy choosing the most becoming\ngowns and head-dresses. A new mortification for poor Cinderella, for it\nwas she who had to iron her sisters' fine linen, and goffer their\nruffles. No one talked of anything but of the style in which they were\nto be dressed. \"I,\" said the eldest, \"will wear my red velvet dress, and\nmy English point-lace trimmings.\" \"I,\" said the youngest, \"shall only\nwear my usual petticoat; but, to make up for that, I shall put on my\ngold-flowered cloak, and my clasp of diamonds, which are none of the\nleast valuable.\" They sent for a first-rate milliner, that their caps\nmight be made to fashion, and they bought their patches from the best\nmaker. They called Cinderella to give them her opinion, for her taste\nwas excellent. Cinderella gave them the best advice in the world, and\neven offered to dress their hair for them, which they were very willing\nshe should do.\n\nWhilst she was busy with the hairdressing, they said to her,\n\"Cinderella, should you be very glad to go to the ball?\"\n\n\"Alas! you only make fun of me; such a thing would not be suitable for\nme at all.\"\n\n\"You are right; they would indeed laugh to see a Cindertail at the\nball!\"\n\nAny other than Cinderella would have dressed their hair awry, but she\nhad a good disposition, and arranged it for both of them to perfection.\nThey could eat nothing for nearly two days, so transported were they\nwith joy. More than a dozen laces were broken in making their waists as\nsmall as possible, and they were continually before their\nlooking-glasses. At last the happy day arrived. They set off, and\nCinderella followed them with her eyes as long as she could. When they\nwere out of sight she began to cry. Her godmother, who saw her all in\ntears, asked her what was the matter. \"I should so like--I should so\nlike--\" she sobbed so violently that she could not finish the sentence.\n\"You would so like to go to the ball, is not that it?\"\n\n\"Alas! yes,\" said Cinderella, sighing.\n\n\"Well, if you will be a good girl, I will undertake that you shall go.\"\nShe took her into her room, and said to her, \"Go into the garden and\nbring me a pumpkin.\" Cinderella went at once, gathered the finest she\ncould find, and brought it to her godmother, wondering the while how a\npumpkin could enable her to go to the ball. Her godmother scooped it\nout, and, having left nothing but the rind, struck it with her wand,\nand the pumpkin was immediately changed into a beautiful coach, gilt all\nover. She then went and looked into the mouse-trap, where she found six\nmice, all alive. She told Cinderella to lift the door of the mouse-trap\na little, and to each mouse, as it ran out, she gave a tap with her\nwand, and the mouse was immediately changed into a fine horse, so that\nat last there stood ready a handsome train of six horses, of a beautiful\ndappled mouse-grey colour. As she was in some difficulty as to what she\ncould take to turn into a coachman, Cinderella said, \"I will go and see\nif there is not a rat in the rat-trap; we will make a coachman of him.\"\n\n\"You are right,\" said her godmother, \"go and see.\"\n\nCinderella brought her the rat-trap, in which there were three large\nrats. The fairy chose one from the three on account of its ample beard,\nand having touched it, it was changed into a fat coachman, with the\nfinest whiskers that ever were seen. She then said, \"Go into the garden,\nand there, behind the watering-pot, you will find six lizards, bring\nthem to me.\" Cinderella had no sooner brought them than the godmother\nchanged them into six footmen, with their liveries all covered with\nlace, who immediately jumped up behind the coach, and hung on to it as\nif they had done nothing else all their lives. The fairy then said to\nCinderella, \"Well, there is something in which to go to the ball; are\nyou not well pleased?\"\n\n[Illustration: '_The King's son gave her his hand._' _Cinderella._]\n\n\"Yes, but am I to go in these dirty old clothes?\" Her godmother touched\nher lightly with her wand, and in the same instant her dress was changed\ninto one of gold and silver, covered with precious stones. She then gave\nher a pair of glass slippers, the prettiest in the world. When she was\nthus attired, she got into the coach; but her godmother told her, above\nall things, not to stay past midnight--warning her, that if she remained\nat the ball a minute longer, her coach would again become a pumpkin, her\nhorses, mice, her footmen, lizards, and her clothes turn again into her\nold ones. She promised her godmother that she would not fail to leave\nthe ball before midnight, and drove off, almost out of her mind with\njoy.\n\nThe King's son, who was informed that a grand Princess had arrived whom\nnobody knew, ran to receive her. He handed her out of the coach and led\nher into the hall, where the guests were assembled. There was\nimmediately a dead silence; the dancing stopped, and the fiddlers ceased\nto play, so engaged did everyone become in gazing upon the wonderful\nbeauty of the unknown lady. Nothing was heard but a general murmur of\n\"Oh! how lovely she is!\" The King himself, old as he was, could not take\nhis eyes from her, and observed to the Queen, that it was a long time\nsince he had seen so lovely and amiable a person. All the ladies were\nintently occupied in examining her head-dress and her clothes, that they\nmight order some like them the very next day, provided that they might\nbe able to find materials as costly, and work-people sufficiently clever\nto make them up.\n\nThe King's son conducted her to the most honourable seat, and then led\nher out to dance. She danced so gracefully that everybody's admiration\nof her was increased. A very grand supper was served, of which the\nPrince ate not a morsel, so absorbed was he in the contemplation of her\nbeauty. She seated herself beside her sisters, and showed them a\nthousand civilities. She shared with them the oranges and citrons which\nthe Prince had given her, at which they were greatly surprised, for she\nappeared a perfect stranger to them. While they were thus talking\ntogether, Cinderella heard the clock strike the three quarters past\neleven; she at once made a profound curtsey to the company, and left as\nquickly as she could. As soon as she had reached home, she went to find\nher godmother, and after having thanked her, said she much wished to go\nto the ball again next day, because the King's son had invited her. She\nwas telling her godmother all that had passed at the ball, when the two\nsisters knocked at the door. Cinderella went and opened it. \"How late\nyou are!\" said she to them, yawning, rubbing her eyes, and then\nstretching herself as if she had but just awoke, although she had had no\ninclination to sleep since she parted from them. \"If you had been at the\nball,\" said one of her sisters to her, \"you would not have been weary of\nit. There came to it the most beautiful princess--the most beautiful\nthat ever was seen; she paid us many attentions, and gave us oranges and\ncitrons.\" Cinderella was beside herself with delight. She asked them the\nname of the Princess, but they replied that nobody knew her, that the\nKing's son was much puzzled about it, and that he would give everything\nin the world to know who she was. Cinderella smiled, and said, \"She was\nvery lovely, then? How fortunate you are! Could not I get a sight of\nher? Alas! Miss Javotte, lend me the yellow gown you wear every day.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said Miss Javotte, \"I like that! Lend one's gown to a dirty\nCindertail like you! I should be mad indeed!\" Cinderella fully expected\nthis refusal, and was rejoiced at it, for she would not have known what\nto do if her sister had lent her the gown.\n\nThe next day the sisters went again to the ball, and Cinderella also,\nbut still more splendidly dressed than before. The King's son never left\nher side, or ceased saying tender things to her. Cinderella found the\nevening pass very pleasantly, and forgot her godmother's warning, so\nthat she heard the clock begin to strike twelve while still thinking\nthat it was not yet eleven. She rose and fled as lightly as a fawn. The\nPrince followed her, but could not overtake her. She dropped one of her\nglass slippers, which the Prince carefully picked up. Cinderella reached\nhome almost breathless, without coach or footmen, and in her shabby\nclothes, with nothing remaining of her finery but one of her little\nslippers, the fellow of that which she had dropped. The guards at the\npalace gate were asked if they had not seen a Princess pass out; they\nanswered that they had seen no one pass but a poorly-dressed girl, who\nhad more the appearance of a peasant than of a lady. When the two\nsisters returned from the ball, Cinderella asked them if they had been\nas much entertained as before, and if the beautiful lady had been\npresent. They said yes, but that she had fled as soon as it had struck\ntwelve, and in such haste, that she had dropped one of her little glass\nslippers, the prettiest in the world; that the King's son had picked it\nup, and had done nothing but gaze upon it during the remainder of the\nevening; and that, undoubtedly, he was very much in love with the\nbeautiful person to whom the little slipper belonged. They spoke the\ntruth; for a few days afterwards the King's son caused it to be\nproclaimed by sound of trumpet that he would marry her whose foot would\nexactly fit the slipper. They began by trying it on the princesses, then\non the duchesses, and so on throughout the Court; but in vain. It was\ntaken to the two sisters, who did their utmost to force one of their\nfeet into the slipper, but they could not manage to do so. Cinderella,\nwho was looking on, and who recognised the slipper, said laughingly,\n\"Let me see if it will not fit me.\" Her sisters began to laugh and\nridicule her. The gentleman of the Court who had been entrusted to try\nthe slipper, having looked attentively at Cinderella, and seeing that\nshe was very beautiful, said that it was only fair that her request\nshould be granted, as he had received orders to try the slipper on all\nmaidens, without exception. He made Cinderella sit down, and putting the\nslipper to her little foot, he saw it slip on easily and fit like wax.\nGreat was the astonishment of the two sisters, but it was still greater\nwhen Cinderella took the other little slipper out of her pocket and put\nit on her other foot. At that moment the godmother appeared, who giving\na tap with her wand to Cinderella's clothes, they became still more\nmagnificent than those she had worn before.\n\nThe two sisters then recognised in her the beautiful person they had\nseen at the ball. They threw themselves at her feet to beg for\nforgiveness for all the ill-treatment she had suffered from them.\nCinderella raised and embraced them, said that she forgave them with all\nher heart, and begged them to love her dearly for the future. She was\nconducted, dressed as she was, to the young Prince. He found her more\ncharming than ever, and a few days afterwards he married her.\nCinderella, who was as kind as she was beautiful, gave her sisters\napartments in the palace, and married them the very same day to two\ngreat lords of the Court.\n\n    Beauty in woman is a treasure rare\n      Which we are never weary of admiring;\n    But a sweet temper is a gift more fair\n      And better worth the youthful maid's desiring.\n    That was the boon bestowed on Cinderella\n      By her wise godmother--her truest glory.\n    The rest was \"nought but leather and prunella.\"\n      Such is the moral of this little story--\n    Beauties, that charm, become you more than dress,\n      And win a heart with far greater facility.\n    In short, in all things to ensure success,\n            The real Fairy Gift is amiability!\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    Talent, courage, wit, and worth,\n    Are rare gifts to own on earth;\n    But if you want to thrive at Court--\n    So, at least, the wise report--\n    You will find you need some others,\n    Such as godfathers or mothers.\n\n\n\n\nRIQUET WITH THE TUFT\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a Queen who had a son, so ugly and misshapen,\nthat it was doubted for a long time whether his form was really human. A\nfairy, who was present at his birth, affirmed, nevertheless, that he\nwould be worthy to be loved, as he would have an excellent wit; she\nadded, moreover, that by virtue of the gift she had bestowed upon him,\nhe would be able to impart equal intelligence to the one whom he loved\nbest. All this was some consolation to the poor Queen, who was much\ndistressed at having brought so ugly a little monkey into the world. It\nis true that the child was no sooner able to speak than he said a\nthousand pretty things, and that in all his ways there was a certain air\nof intelligence, with which everyone was charmed. I had forgotten to say\nthat he was born with a little tuft of hair on his head, and so he came\nto be called Riquet with the Tuft; for Riquet was the family name.\n\nAbout seven or eight years later, the Queen of a neighbouring kingdom\nhad two daughters. The elder was fairer than the day, and the Queen was\nso delighted, that it was feared some harm might come to her from her\ngreat joy. The same fairy who had assisted at the birth of little\nRiquet, was present upon this occasion, and in order to moderate the joy\nof the Queen, she told her that this little Princess would have no gifts\nof mind at all, and that she would be as stupid as she was beautiful.\nThe Queen was greatly mortified on hearing this, but, shortly after, she\nwas even more annoyed, when her second little daughter was born and\nproved to be extremely ugly. \"Do not distress yourself, madam,\" said the\nfairy to her, \"your daughter will find compensation, for she will have\nso much intelligence, that her lack of beauty will scarcely be\nperceived.\"\n\n\"Heaven send it may be so,\" replied the Queen; \"but are there no means\nwhereby a little more understanding might be given to the elder, who is\nso lovely?\" \"I can do nothing for her in the way of intelligence,\nmadam,\" said the fairy, \"but everything in the way of beauty; as,\nhowever, there is nothing in my power I would not do to give you\ncomfort, I will bestow on her the power of conferring beauty on any man\nor woman who shall please her.\" As these two Princesses grew up, their\nendowments also became more perfect, and nothing was talked of anywhere\nbut the beauty of the elder, and the intelligence of the younger. It is\ntrue that their defects also greatly increased with their years. The\nyounger became uglier every moment, and the elder more stupid every day.\nShe either made no answer when she was spoken to, or else said something\nfoolish. With this she was so clumsy, that she could not even place four\npieces of china on a mantelshelf, without breaking one of them, or\ndrink a glass of water, without spilling half of it on her dress.\nNotwithstanding the attraction of beauty, the younger, in whatever\nsociety they might be, nearly always bore away the palm from her sister.\nAt first everyone went up to the more beautiful, to gaze at and admire\nher; but they soon left her for the cleverer one, to listen to her many\npleasant and amusing sayings; and people were astonished to find that in\nless than a quarter of an hour, the elder had not a soul near her, while\nall the company had gathered round the younger. The elder, though very\nstupid, noticed this, and would have given, without regret, all her\nbeauty, for half the sense of her sister. Discreet as she was, the Queen\ncould not help often reproaching her with her stupidity, which made the\npoor Princess ready to die of grief.\n\nOne day, when she had gone by herself into a wood, to weep over her\nmisfortune, she saw approaching her, a little man of very ugly and\nunpleasant appearance, but magnificently dressed. It was the young\nPrince Riquet with the Tuft, who, having fallen in love with her from\nseeing her portraits, which were sent all over the world, had left his\nfather's kingdom that he might have the pleasure of beholding her and\nspeaking to her. Enchanted at meeting her thus alone, he addressed her\nwith all the respect and politeness imaginable. Having remarked, after\npaying her the usual compliments, that she was very melancholy, he said\nto her, \"I cannot understand, madam, how a person so beautiful as you\nare can be so unhappy as you appear; for, although I can boast of having\nseen an infinite number of beautiful people, I can say with truth that\nI have never seen one whose beauty could be compared with yours.\"\n\n\"You are pleased to say so, sir,\" replied the Princess, and there she\nstopped.\n\n\"Beauty,\" continued Riquet, \"is so great an advantage, that it ought to\ntake the place of every other, and, possessed of it, I see nothing that\ncan have power to afflict one.\"\n\n\"I would rather,\" said the Princess, \"be as ugly as you are, and have\nintelligence, than possess the beauty I do, and be so stupid as I am.\"\n\n\"There is no greater proof of intelligence, madam, than the belief that\nwe have it not; it is the nature of that gift, that the more we have,\nthe more we believe ourselves to be without it.\"\n\n\"I do not know how that may be,\" said the Princess, \"but I know well\nenough that I am very stupid, and that is the cause of the grief that is\nkilling me.\"\n\n\"If that is all that troubles you, madam, I can easily put an end to\nyour sorrow.\"\n\n\"And how would you do that?\" said the Princess.\n\n\"I have the power, madam,\" said Riquet with the Tuft, \"to give as much\nintelligence as it is possible to possess, to the person whom I love\nbest; as you, madam, are that person, it will depend entirely upon\nyourself, whether or not you become gifted with this amount of\nintelligence, provided that you are willing to marry me.\"\n\nThe Princess was struck dumb with astonishment, and replied not a word.\n\n\"I see,\" said Riquet with the Tuft, \"that this proposal troubles you,\nand I am not surprised, but I will give you a full year to consider it.\"\n\nThe Princess had so little sense, and at the same time was so anxious to\nhave a great deal, that she thought the end of that year would never\ncome; so she at once accepted the offer that was made her. She had no\nsooner promised Riquet with the Tuft that she would marry him that day\ntwelve months, than she felt herself quite another person to what she\nhad previously been. She found she was able to say whatever she pleased,\nwith a readiness past belief, and of saying it in a clever, but easy and\nnatural manner. She immediately began a sprightly and well-sustained\nconversation with Riquet with the Tuft, and was so brilliant in her\ntalk, that Riquet with the Tuft began to think he had given her more wit\nthan he had reserved for himself. On her return to the palace, the whole\nCourt was puzzled to account for a change so sudden and extraordinary;\nfor the number of foolish things which they had been accustomed to hear\nfrom her, she now made as many sensible and exceedingly witty remarks.\nAll the Court was in a state of joy not to be described. The younger\nsister alone was not altogether pleased, for, having lost her\nsuperiority over her sister in the way of intelligence, she now only\nappeared by her side as a very unpleasing-looking person.\n\nThe King now began to be guided by his elder daughter's advice, and at\ntimes even held his Council in her apartments. The news of the change of\naffairs was spread abroad, and all the young princes of the\nneighbouring kingdoms exerted themselves to gain her affection, and\nnearly all of them asked her hand in marriage. She found none of them,\nhowever, intelligent enough to please her, and she listened to all of\nthem, without engaging herself to one.\n\nAt length arrived a Prince, so rich and powerful, so clever and so\nhandsome, that she could not help listening willingly to his addresses.\nHer father, having perceived this, told her that he left her at perfect\nliberty to choose a husband for herself, and that she had only to make\nknown her decision. As the more intelligence we possess, the more\ndifficulty we find in making up our mind on such a matter as this, she\nbegged her father, after having thanked him, to allow her time to think\nabout it.\n\nShe went, by chance, to walk in the same wood in which she had met\nRiquet with the Tuft, in order to meditate more uninterruptedly over\nwhat she had to do. While she was walking, deep in thought, she heard a\ndull sound beneath her feet, as of many persons running to and fro, and\nbusily occupied. Having listened more attentively, she heard one say,\n\"Bring me that saucepan;\" another, \"Give me that kettle;\" another, \"Put\nsome wood on the fire.\" At the same moment the ground opened, and she\nsaw beneath her what appeared to be a large kitchen, full of cooks,\nscullions, and all sorts of servants necessary for the preparation of a\nmagnificent banquet. There came forth a band of about twenty to thirty\ncooks, who went and established themselves in an avenue of the wood, at\na very long table, and who, each with the larding-pin in his hand and\nthe tail of his fur cap over his ear, set to work, keeping time to a\nharmonious song.\n\nThe Princess, astonished at this sight, asked the men for whom they were\nworking.\n\n\"Madam,\" replied the chief among them, \"for Prince Riquet with the Tuft,\nwhose marriage will take place to-morrow.\" The Princess, still more\nsurprised than she was before, and suddenly recollecting that it was\njust a twelvemonth from the day on which she had promised to marry\nPrince Riquet with the Tuft, was overcome with trouble and amazement.\nThe reason of her not having remembered her promise was, that when she\nmade it she had been a very foolish person, and when she became gifted\nwith the new mind that the Prince had given her, she had forgotten all\nher follies.\n\nShe had not taken another thirty steps, when Riquet with the Tuft\npresented himself before her, gaily and splendidly attired, like a\nPrince about to be married. \"You see, madam,\" said he, \"I keep my word\npunctually, and I doubt not that you have come thither to keep yours,\nand to make me, by the giving of your hand, the happiest of men.\"\n\n\"I confess to you, frankly,\" answered the Princess, \"that I have not yet\nmade up my mind on that matter, and that I do not think I shall ever be\nable to do so in the way you wish.\" \"You astonish me, madam,\" said\nRiquet with the Tuft. \"I have no doubt I do,\" said the Princess; \"and\nassuredly, had I to deal with a stupid person, with a man without\nintelligence, I should feel greatly perplexed. 'A Princess is bound by\nher word,' he would say to me, 'and you must marry me, as you have\npromised to do so.' But as the person to whom I speak is, of all men in\nthe world, the one of greatest sense and understanding, I am certain he\nwill listen to reason. You know that, when I was no better than a fool,\nI nevertheless could not decide to marry you--how can you expect, now\nthat I have the mind which you have given me, and which renders me much\nmore difficult to please than before, that I should take to-day a\nresolution which I could not then? If you seriously thought of marrying\nme, you did very wrong to take away my stupidity, and so enable me to\nsee more clearly than I saw then.\" \"If a man without intelligence,\"\nreplied Riquet with the Tuft, \"who reproached you with your breach of\npromise, might have a right, as you have just intimated, to be treated\nwith indulgence, why would you, madam, that I should receive less\nconsideration in a matter which affects the entire happiness of my life?\nIs it reasonable that persons of intellect should be in a worse position\nthan those that have none? Can you assert this--you who have so much,\nand who so earnestly desired to possess it? But let us come to the\npoint, if you please. Setting aside my ugliness, is there anything in me\nthat displeases you? Are you dissatisfied with my birth, my\nunderstanding, my temper, or my manners?\"\n\n\"Not in the least,\" replied the Princess; \"I admire in you everything\nyou have mentioned.\"\n\n[Illustration: _Then said the Princess \"I wish that you may be the\nhandsomest prince in the world.\"_ _Riquet with the Tuft._]\n\n\"If that is so,\" rejoined Riquet with the Tuft, \"I shall soon be happy,\nas you have it in your power to make me the most pleasing looking of\nmen.\"\n\n\"How can that be done?\" asked the Princess.\n\n\"It can be done,\" said Riquet with the Tuft, \"if you love me\nsufficiently to wish that it should be. And, in order, madam, that you\nshould have no doubt about it, know that the same fairy, who, on the day\nI was born, endowed me with the power to give intelligence to the person\nI chose, gave you also the power to render handsome the man you should\nlove, and on whom you should wish to bestow this favour.\"\n\n\"If such be the fact,\" said the Princess, \"I wish, with all my heart,\nthat you should become the handsomest and most lovable Prince in the\nworld, and I bestow the gift on you to the fullest extent in my power.\"\n\nThe Princess had no sooner pronounced these words than Riquet with the\nTuft appeared to her eyes, of all men in the world, the handsomest, the\nbest made, and most attractive she had ever seen. There are some who\nassert that it was not the spell of the fairy, but love alone that\ncaused this metamorphosis. They say that the Princess, having reflected\non the perseverance of her lover, on his prudence, and on all the good\nqualities of his heart and mind, no longer saw the deformity of his\nbody, or the ugliness of his features; that his hump appeared to her\nnothing more than a good-natured shrug of his shoulders, and that\ninstead of noticing, as she had done, how badly he limped, she saw in\nhim only a certain lounging air, which charmed her. They say also that\nhis eyes, which squinted, only seemed to her the more brilliant for\nthis; and that the crookedness of his glance was to her merely\nexpressive of his great love; and, finally, that his great red nose had\nin it, to her mind, something martial and heroic. However this may be,\nthe Princess promised on the spot to marry him, provided he obtained the\nconsent of the King, her father. The King, having learned that his\ndaughter entertained a great regard for Riquet with the Tuft, whom he\nknew also to be a very clever and wise Prince, received him with\npleasure as his son-in-law. The wedding took place the next morning, as\nRiquet with the Tuft had foreseen, and according to the orders which he\nhad given a long time before.\n\n    No beauty, no talent, has power above\n    Some indefinite charm discern'd only by love.\n\n\n\n\nLITTLE THUMBLING\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a woodcutter and his wife who had seven\nchildren, all boys. The eldest was but ten years old, and the youngest\nonly seven. People wondered that the woodcutter had so many children so\nnear in age, but the fact was, that several of them were twins. He and\nhis wife were very poor, and their seven children were a great burden to\nthem, as not one of them was yet able to earn his livelihood. What\ntroubled them still more was, that the youngest was very delicate, and\nseldom spoke, which they considered a proof of stupidity rather than of\ngood sense. He was very diminutive, and, when first born, scarcely\nbigger than one's thumb, and so they called him Little Thumbling.\n\nThis poor child was the scapegoat of the house, and was blamed for\neverything that happened. Nevertheless, he was the shrewdest and most\nsensible of all his brothers, and if he spoke little, he listened a\ngreat deal.\n\nThere came a year of bad harvest, and the famine was so severe that\nthese poor people determined to get rid of their children. One evening,\nwhen they were all in bed, and the woodcutter was sitting over the fire\nwith his wife, he said to her, with an aching heart, \"You see plainly\nthat we can no longer find food for our children. I cannot let them die\nof hunger before my very eyes, and I have made up my mind to take them\nto the wood to-morrow, and there lose them, which will be easily done,\nfor whilst they are busy tying up the faggots, we have only to run away\nunseen by them.\" \"Ah!\" exclaimed the woodcutter's wife, \"Can you find\nthe heart to lose your own children?\" In vain her husband represented to\nher their great poverty; she would not consent to the deed. She was\npoor, but she was their mother. After a while, however, having thought\nover the misery it would be to her to see them die of hunger, she\nassented to her husband's proposal, and went weeping to bed.\n\nLittle Thumbling had overheard all they said, for having found out, as\nhe lay in his bed, that they were talking of their affairs, he got up\nquietly and crept under his father's stool, so as to listen to what they\nwere saying without been seen. He went to bed again, but did not sleep a\nwink the rest of the night, thinking what he should do. He got up early,\nand went down to the banks of the stream; there he filled his pockets\nwith small white pebbles, and then returned home. They set out all\ntogether, and Little Thumbling said not a word to his brothers of what\nhe had overheard. They entered a very thick forest, wherein, at ten\npaces distant, they could not see one another. The woodcutter began to\ncut wood, and the children to pick up brushwood for the faggots. The\nfather and mother, seeing them busy at work, gradually stole farther and\nfarther away from them, and then suddenly ran off down a little winding\npath.\n\n[Illustration: '_The boys followed him._']\n\nWhen the children found themselves all alone, they began to scream and\ncry with all their might. Little Thumbling let them scream, well knowing\nhow he could get home again, for on their way to the forest, he had\ndropped all along the road the little white pebbles he had in his\npockets. He then said to them, \"Have no fear, brothers; my father and\nmother have left us here, but I will take you safely home; only follow\nme.\" They followed him, and he led them back to the house by the same\nroad that they had taken to the forest. They were afraid to go inside at\nonce, but placed themselves close to the door, to listen to what their\nfather and mother were saying. It chanced that just at the moment that\nthe woodcutter and his wife reached home, the lord of the manor sent\nthem ten crowns, which he had owed them a long time, and which they had\ngiven up all hope of receiving. This was new life to them, for the poor\nthings were actually starving. The woodcutter immediately sent his wife\nto the butcher's, and, as it was many a day since they had tasted meat,\nshe bought three times as much as was sufficient for two people's\nsupper. When they had appeased their hunger, the woodcutter's wife said,\n\"Alas! where now are our poor children? They would fare merrily on what\nwe have left. But it was you, William, who would lose them. Truly did I\nsay we should repent it. What are they now doing in the forest? Alas!\nHeaven help me! the wolves have, perhaps, already devoured them. Cruel\nman that you are, thus to have lost your children!\"\n\nThe woodcutter began at last to lose his temper, for she repeated over\ntwenty times that they would repent the deed, and that she had said it\nwould be so. He threatened to beat her if she did not hold her tongue.\nIt was not that the woodcutter was not, perhaps, even more sorry than\nhis wife, but that she made so much noise about it, and that he was like\nmany other people, who are fond of women who say the right thing, but\nare annoyed by those who are always in the right. The wife was all in\ntears. \"Alas! where are now my children, my poor children?\" She uttered\nher cry, at last, so loudly, that the children, who were at the door,\nheard her, and began to call out all together, \"Here we are! here we\nare!\" She rushed to the door to open it, and embracing them, exclaimed,\n\"How thankful I am to see you again, my dear children; you are very\ntired and hungry; and you, little Peter, how dirty you are! come here\nand let me wash you.\" Peter was her eldest son, and she loved him better\nthan all the rest, because he was red-headed, and she was rather\nred-haired herself. They sat down to supper and ate with an appetite\nthat delighted their father and mother, to whom they related how\nfrightened they had been in the forest, nearly all keeping on speaking\nat the same time. The good people were overjoyed to see their children\naround them once more, and their joy lasted as long as the ten crowns.\nWhen the money was spent, however, they fell back into their former\nstate of misery, and resolved to lose their children again; and to make\nquite sure of doing so this time, they determined to lead them much\nfurther from home than they had before.\n\nThey could not talk of this so secretly, but that they were overheard by\nLittle Thumbling, who reckoned upon being able to get out of the\ndifficulty by the same means as the first time; but though he got up\nvery early to collect the little pebbles, he did not succeed in his\nobject, for he found the house door double locked. He was at his wit's\nend what to do, when his mother having given each of them a piece of\nbread for their breakfast, it occurred to him that he might make the\nbread take the place of the pebbles, by strewing crumbs along the path\nas they went, and so he put his piece in his pocket. The father and\nmother led them into the thickest and darkest part of the forest, and as\nsoon as they had done so, they turned into a bypath, and left them\nthere. Little Thumbling did not trouble himself much, for he believed he\ncould easily find his way back by help of the crumbs which he had\nscattered wherever he had passed; but he was greatly surprised to find\nnot a single crumb left--the birds had come and picked them all up. The\npoor children were now, indeed, in great distress; the further they\nwandered, the deeper they plunged into the forest. Night came on, and a\ngreat wind arose, which filled them with terror. They fancied they heard\nnothing on every side but the howling of wolves, running towards them to\ndevour them. They scarcely dared to speak or look behind them. Then\nthere came a heavy rain, which drenched them to the skin; they slipped\nat every step, tumbling into the mud, out of which they scrambled\ncovered with dirt, not knowing what to do with their hands. Little\nThumbling climbed up a tree to try if he could see anything from the top\nof it. Having looked about on all sides, he saw a little light, like\nthat of a candle, but it was a long way off, on the other side of the\nforest. He came down again, and when he had reached the ground, he could\nno longer see the light. He was in despair at this, but having walked on\nwith his brothers for some time in the direction of the light, he caught\nsight of it again as they emerged from the forest.\n\nAt length they reached the house where the candle was shining, not\nwithout many alarms, for often they lost sight of it altogether, and\nalways when they went down into the hollows. They knocked loudly at the\ndoor, and a good woman came to open it. She asked them what they wanted.\nLittle Thumbling told her they were poor children who had lost their way\nin the forest, and who begged a night's lodgings for charity's sake. The\nwoman, seeing they were all so pretty, began to weep, and said to them,\n\"Alas! my poor children, to what a place have you come! Know you not\nthat this is the house of an ogre who eats little children?\" \"Alas!\"\nreplied Little Thumbling, who trembled from head to foot, as indeed did\nall his brothers, \"what shall we do? We shall certainly be all eaten up\nby the wolves to-night, if you do not give us shelter, and, in that\ncase, we would rather be eaten by the ogre; perhaps he may have pity\nupon us, if you are kind enough to ask him.\" The ogre's wife, who\nthought that she might be able to hide them from her husband till the\nnext morning, let the children come in, and led them where they could\nwarm themselves by a good fire, for there was a whole sheep on the spit,\nroasting for the ogre's supper.\n\nJust as they were beginning to get warm they heard two or three loud\nknocks at the door. It was the ogre who had come home. His wife\nimmediately made the children hide under the bed, and went to open the\ndoor. The ogre first asked if his supper was ready, and if she had drawn\nthe wine, and with that he sat down to his meal. The mutton was all but\nraw, but he liked it all the better for that. He sniffed right and left,\nsaying that he smelt fresh meat. \"It must be the calf I have just\nskinned,\" said his wife. \"I tell you, I smell fresh meat,\" replied the\nogre, giving an angry glance at his wife; \"there is something here I do\nnot understand.\" With these words, he rose from the table and went\nstraight towards the bed. \"Ah!\" he exclaimed, \"so this is the way in\nwhich you would deceive me, you wretched woman! I do not know what\nhinders me from eating you also! It is well for you that you are such an\nold creature! But here is some game, which comes in handy, and will\nserve to feast three of my ogre friends, who are soon coming to pay me a\nvisit.\" He dragged the children from under the bed, one after the other.\nThey fell upon their knees, begging for mercy, but they had to deal with\nthe most cruel of all the ogres, and who, far from feeling pity for\nthem, devoured them already with his eyes, and said to his wife that\nthey would be dainty bits, when she had made a good sauce for them. He\nwent and took up a large knife, and as he came towards the children\nagain, he whetted it on a long stone that he held in his left hand. He\nhad already seized one of them, when his wife said to him, \"Why are you\ndoing that at this hour of night? Will it not be time enough to-morrow?\"\n\"Hold your peace,\" replied the ogre. \"They will be the more tender.\"\n\"But you have already too much food,\" continued his wife. \"Here are a\ncalf, two sheep, and half a pig.\" \"You are right,\" said the ogre, \"give\nthem a good supper, that they may keep plump, and then put them to bed.\"\nThe good woman was rejoiced, and brought them plenty of supper; but they\ncould not eat, they were so overcome with fright. As for the ogre, he\nseated himself to drink again, delighted to think he had such a treat in\nstore for his friends. He drained a dozen goblets more than usual, which\nmade him feel sleepy and heavy, and obliged him to go to bed.\n\nThe ogre had seven daughters, who were still young children. These\nlittle ogresses had the most beautiful complexions, as they lived on\nfresh meat like their father; but they had very small round grey eyes,\nhooked noses, and very large mouths, with long teeth, exceedingly sharp,\nand wide apart. They were not very wicked as yet; but they promised to\nbecome so, for they already began to bite little children, that they\nmight suck their blood. They had been sent to bed early, and were all\nseven in a large bed, each wearing a crown of gold on her head. In the\nsame room was another bed of the same size. It was in this bed that the\nogre's wife put the seven little boys to sleep, after which she went to\nbed herself.\n\nLittle Thumbling, who had noticed that the ogre's daughters had golden\ncrowns on their heads, and who was afraid that the ogre might repent not\nhaving killed him and his brothers that evening, got up in the middle of\nthe night, and, taking off his own nightcap, and those of his brothers,\nwent very softly and placed them on the heads of the ogre's daughters,\nfirst taking off their golden crowns, which he put on his brothers and\nhimself, in order that the ogre might mistake them for his daughters,\nand his daughters for the boys whom he wanted to kill.\n\nEverything turned out as Little Thumbling had expected. The ogre awoke\nat midnight, and regretted having put off till the morning what he might\nhave done the evening before. He, therefore, jumped suddenly out of bed,\nand seizing his great knife, \"Let us go, and see,\" said he, \"how the\nyoung rogues are getting on! I will not think twice about it this time.\"\nSo he stole on tiptoes up to his daughters' bedroom, and went up to the\nbed in which lay the little boys, who were all asleep except Thumbling,\nwho was dreadfully frightened when the ogre put his hand on his head to\nfeel it, as he had in turn felt those of his brothers. The ogre, feeling\nthe golden crowns, said, \"Truly, I was about to do a pretty piece of\nwork! It's plain I drank too much wine last night.\" He then went to the\nbed where his daughters slept, and having felt the little nightcaps that\nbelonged to the boys, \"Aha!\" cried he, \"here are our fine young fellows.\nLet us to work boldly!\" So saying, he, without pause, cut the throats of\nhis seven daughters.\n\nWell satisfied with his deed, he returned and lay down beside his wife.\nAs soon as Little Thumbling heard the ogre snoring, he awoke his\nbrothers, and bade them dress themselves quickly and follow him. They\ncrept down into the garden and jumped over the wall. They ran nearly all\nnight long, trembling the whole time, and not knowing whither they were\ngoing. The ogre, awaking in the morning, said to his wife, \"Go upstairs\nand dress those young scamps you took in last night.\" The ogress was\nastonished at her husband's kindness, never guessing what he meant, and\nonly fancying that he wished her to go and put on their clothes. She\nwent upstairs, where she was horrified to find that her own children had\nbeen killed. The first thing she did was to faint, for it is the first\nthing that almost all women do in similar circumstances. The ogre,\nfearing that his wife would be too long over the job he had given her to\ndo, went upstairs to help her. His surprise was not less than had been\nhis wife's, when his eyes fell on the frightful spectacle.\n\n\"Ah! what have I done?\" he exclaimed. \"The young wretches shall pay for\nit, and that at once.\" He threw a jugful of water in his wife's face,\nand having brought her to, said, \"Quick! fetch me my seven-league\nboots, that I may go after them and catch them.\" He set out, and after\nrunning in every direction, came at last upon the track of the poor\nchildren, who were not more than a hundred yards from their father's\nhouse. They saw the ogre striding from hill to hill, and stepping over\nrivers as easily as if they were the smallest brooks. Little Thumbling,\nwho caught sight of a hollow rock close by where they were, hid his\nbrothers in it, and crept in after them, keeping his eye on the ogre all\nthe while. The ogre, feeling very tired with his long journey to no\npurpose--for seven-league boots are very fatiguing to the\nwearer--thought he should like to rest, and, by chance, sat down on the\nvery rock in which the little boys had concealed themselves. As he was\nquite worn out, he had not rested long before he fell asleep, and began\nto snore so dreadfully, that the poor children were not less frightened\nthan they were when he took up the great knife to cut their throats.\n\nLittle Thumbling was not so much alarmed, and told his brothers to run\nquickly into the house while the ogre was sound asleep, and not to be\nuneasy about him. They took his advice and soon reached home. Little\nThumbling then going up to the ogre, gently pulled off his boots, and\nput them on himself. The boots were very large and very long; but as\nthey were enchanted boots, they had the quality of becoming larger or\nsmaller according to the leg of the person who wore them, so that they\nfitted him as if they had been made for him. He went straight to the\nogre's house, where he found the wife weeping over her murdered\ndaughters. \"Your husband,\" said Little Thumbling to her, \"is in great\ndanger, for he has been seized by a band of robbers, who have sworn to\nkill him if he does not give them all his gold and silver. Just as they\nhad their daggers at his throat, he saw me, and begged me to come and\ntell you what had happened to him, and sent word that you were to give\nme all his ready money, without keeping back any of it, as otherwise\nthey will kill him without mercy. As time pressed, he insisted on my\ntaking his seven-league boots, which you see I have on, in order that I\nmight make haste, and also that you might be sure I was not imposing\nupon you.\"\n\nThe good woman, very much alarmed, immediately gave him all the money\nshe could find, for the ogre was not a bad husband to her, although he\nate little children. Little Thumbling, thus laden with all the ogre's\nwealth, hastened back to his father's house, where he was received with\ngreat joy.\n\nThere are many persons who differ in their account of this part of the\nstory, and who pretend that Little Thumbling never stole the ogre's\nmoney, and that he really only took the seven-league boots, as he felt\nno scruple in doing this, seeing that the ogre used them expressly for\nrunning after little children. These people assert that they have heard\nit from good authority, and that they have eaten and drunk in the\nwoodcutter's house. They assure us that when Little Thumbling had put on\nthe ogre's boots, he went to Court, where he knew they were in much\ntrouble about an army which was within two hundred leagues of them, and\nwere anxious to hear the result of a battle that had been fought. They\nsay he went to find the King, and told him that, if he wished it, he\nwould bring him back news of the army before the end of the day. The\nKing promised him a large sum of money if he did so.\n\nLittle Thumbling brought news that very evening, and this first journey\nhaving made him well known, he got whatever he chose to ask, for the\nKing paid him most liberally for carrying his orders to the army; a\ngreat number of ladies also gave him whatever he wished, in return for\nnews of their lovers, and this brought him in the greatest gain.\n\nAfter he had been a courier for some time, and had saved a great deal of\nmoney, he returned to his father, and it is impossible to imagine the\njoy of his family at seeing him again. He made them all comfortable. He\nbought newly-made offices for his father and brothers, and by these\nmeans established them all, making his own way at Court at the same\ntime.\n\n    Often is the handsome boy\n    Made, alone, his father's joy;\n    While the tiny, timid child\n    Is neglected, or reviled,\n    Notwithstanding, sometimes he\n    Lives, of all, the prop to be.\n\n\n\n\nBEAUTY AND THE BEAST\n\n\nThere was once a merchant, who was very, very rich. He had six children,\nthree boys and three girls, and as he was a man of good sense, he spared\nno expense in order that they might be well educated, and gave them\nmasters of every kind. His daughters were all beautiful, but his\nyoungest one was especially admired, and from the time she was a small\nchild, had been only known and spoken of as \"Beauty.\" The name remained\nwith her as she grew older, which gave rise to a great deal of jealousy\non the part of her sisters. The young girl was not only more beautiful\nthan they were, but also kinder and more amiable. The elder daughters\ngave themselves great airs, for they were overweeningly proud of being\nso rich, and would not condescend to receive visits from the daughters\nof other merchants, as they only cared for the society of people in high\nposition. Not a day passed that they did not go to a ball, or a theatre,\nor for a drive or walk in a fashionable part of the town, and they made\nfun of their sister, who spent a great part of her time in study. The\ngirls received many offers of marriage from well-to-do merchants, as\nthey were known to be rich, but the two elder ones replied, that they\ndid not intend to marry anyone, unless a duke or an earl could be found\nfor a husband.\n\nBeauty, the youngest, was more polite, and thanked those who asked for\nher hand, but she was, as she told them, too young as yet, and wished to\nremain for a few more years as a companion to her father.\n\nThen, all at once, the merchant lost the whole of his fortune; nothing\nwas left to him but a little house, situated far away in the country. He\ntold his children, weeping, that they would be obliged to go and live\nthere, and that, even then, they would have to support themselves by the\nwork of their own hands. His two elder daughters refused to leave the\ntown; they had many admirers, they said, who would be only too glad to\nmarry them, although they were now without fortune. But these young\nladies found themselves greatly mistaken, for their admirers did not\neven care to look at them, now that they were poor. They had made\nthemselves generally disliked, on account of their haughty behaviour.\n\"They do not deserve to be pitied,\" said everyone; \"we are very glad\nthat their pride is humbled; let them go and play the fine lady, keeping\nsheep.\" But people spoke differently of Beauty. \"We are very sorry,\"\nthey said, \"that she is in trouble; she is such a good girl! she always\nspoke so kindly to the poor! she was so gentle and courteous!\" Several\nof her suitors, also, still wished to marry her, although she had not a\npenny, but she told them that she could not think of leaving her father\nin his distress, and that she intended going with him into the country,\nto comfort him, and help with the work. Beauty was very unhappy at\nlosing her fortune, but she said to herself, \"It is no use crying, tears\nwill not give me back my riches; I must try and be happy without them.\"\n\nAs soon as they were settled in their country house, the merchant and\nhis sons began to till the ground. Beauty rose every morning at four\no'clock, and made haste to clean the house and prepare the dinner. She\nfound her duties very painful and fatiguing at first, for she had not\nbeen accustomed to do the work of a servant; but in two months' time she\nhad grown stronger, and the activity of her life gave her fresh health\nand colour. When her day's work was over, she amused herself with\nreading, or music; sometimes she sat down to her wheel, and sang to her\nspinning. Meanwhile her two sisters were wearied to death with the\ndulness of their life; they stayed in bed till ten o'clock, did nothing\nall day but saunter about, and for their only diversion talked with\nregret of their former fine clothes and friends. \"Look at our young\nsister,\" they said to one another; \"she is so low-minded and stupid,\nthat she is quite content with her miserable condition.\"\n\nThe good merchant thought differently: he knew that Beauty was better\nfitted to shine in society than they were; he admired the good qualities\nof his youngest child, especially her patience, for her sisters, not\ncontent with allowing her to do all the work of the house, took every\nopportunity of insulting her.\n\nThe family had lived in this solitude for a year, when a letter arrived\nfor the merchant, telling him that a vessel, on which there was\nmerchandise belonging to him, had arrived safely in port. The two elder\ngirls were nearly out of their minds with joy when they heard this good\nnews, for now they hoped that they should be able to leave the country.\nThey begged their father, ere he departed, to bring them back dresses\nand capes, head-dresses, and all sorts of odds and ends of fancy attire.\nBeauty asked for nothing; for, as she thought to herself, all the money\nthat the merchandise would bring in, would not be sufficient to pay for\neverything that her sisters wished for. \"Is there nothing you wish me to\nbuy for you?\" her father said to her. \"As you are so kind as to think of\nme,\" she replied, \"I pray you to bring me a rose, for we have not one\nhere.\" Now Beauty did not really care about the rose, but she had no\nwish to seem, by her example, to reprove her sisters, who would have\nsaid that she did not ask for anything, in order to make herself appear\nmore considerate than they were.\n\nThe father left them, but on arriving at his destination, he had to go\nto law about his merchandise, and after a great deal of trouble, he\nturned back home as poor as he came. He had not many more miles to go,\nand was already enjoying, in anticipation, the pleasure of seeing his\nchildren again, when, passing on his journey through a large wood, he\nlost his way. It was snowing hard; the wind was so violent that he was\ntwice blown off his horse, and, as the night was closing in, he was\nafraid that he would die of cold and hunger, or that he would be eaten\nby the wolves, that he could hear howling around him. All at once,\nhowever, he caught sight of a bright light, which appeared to be some\nway off, at the further end of a long avenue of trees. He walked towards\nit, and soon saw that it came from a splendid castle, which was\nbrilliantly illuminated. The merchant thanked God for the help that had\nbeen sent him, and hastened towards the castle, but was greatly\nsurprised, on reaching it, to find no one in the courtyard, or about the\nentrances. His horse, which was following him, seeing the door of a\nlarge stable standing open, went in, and finding there some hay and\noats, the poor animal, half dead for want of food, began eating with\navidity.\n\nThe merchant fastened him up in the stable, and went towards the house,\nbut still no one was to be seen; he walked into a large dining-hall, and\nthere he found a good fire, and a table laid for one person, covered\nwith provisions. Being wet to the skin with the rain and snow, he drew\nnear the fire to dry himself, saying, as he did so, \"The master of this\nhouse, or his servants, will pardon me the liberty I am taking; no doubt\nthey will soon appear.\" He waited for a considerable time; but when\neleven o'clock had struck, and still he had seen no one, he could no\nlonger resist the feeling of hunger, and seizing a chicken, he ate it up\nin two mouthfuls, trembling the while. Then he took a draught or two of\nwine, and, his courage returning, he left the dining-hall and made his\nway through several large rooms magnificently furnished. Finally he came\nto a room where there was a comfortable bed, and as it was now past\nmidnight, and he was very tired, he made up his mind to shut the door\nand lie down.\n\nIt was ten o'clock next morning before he awoke, when, to his great\nsurprise, he found new clothes put in place of his own, which had been\ncompletely spoiled. \"This palace must certainly belong to some good\nfairy,\" he said to himself, \"who, seeing my condition, has taken pity\nupon me.\" He looked out of the window; the snow was gone, and he saw\ninstead, bowers of delicious flowers which were a delight to the eye.\n\nHe went again into the dining-hall where he had supped the night before,\nand saw a little table with chocolate upon it. \"I thank you, good madam\nfairy,\" he said aloud, \"for your kindness in thinking of my breakfast.\"\n\nThe merchant, having drunk his chocolate, went out to find his horse; as\nhe passed under a bower of roses, he remembered that Beauty had asked\nhim to bring her one, and he plucked a branch on which several were\ngrowing. He had scarcely done so, when he heard a loud roar, and saw\ncoming towards him a Beast, of such a horrible aspect, that he nearly\nfainted. \"You are very ungrateful,\" said the Beast in a terrible voice;\n\"I received you into my castle, and saved your life, and now you steal\nmy roses, which I care for more than anything else in the world. Death\nalone can make amends for what you have done; I give you a quarter of an\nhour, no more, in which to ask forgiveness of God.\"\n\nThe merchant threw himself on his knees, and with clasped hands, said to\nthe Beast, \"I pray you, my lord, to forgive me. I did not think to\noffend you by picking a rose for one of my daughters, who asked me to\ntake it her.\" \"I am not called my lord,\" responded the monster, \"but\nsimply the Beast, I do not care for compliments; I like people to say\nwhat they think; so do not think to mollify me with your flattery. But\nyou tell me you have some daughters; I will pardon you on condition that\none of your daughters will come of her own free will to die in your\nplace. Do not stop to argue with me; go! and if your daughter refuses to\ndie for you, swear that you will return yourself in three months' time.\"\n\nThe merchant had no intention of sacrificing one of his daughters to\nthis hideous monster, but he thought, \"At least I shall have the\npleasure of embracing them once more.\" He swore therefore to return, and\nthe Beast told him that he might go when he liked; \"but,\" added he, \"I\ndo not wish you to go from me with empty hands. Go back to the room in\nwhich you slept, there you will find a large empty trunk; you may fill\nit with whatever you please, and I will have it conveyed to your house.\"\nWith these words the Beast withdrew, and the merchant said to himself,\n\"If I must die, I shall at least have the consolation of leaving my\nchildren enough for their daily bread.\"\n\nHe returned to the room where he had passed the night, and finding there\na great quantity of gold pieces, he filled the trunk, of which the Beast\nhad spoken, with these, closed it, and remounting his horse, which he\nfound still in the stable, he rode out from the castle, his sadness now\nas great as had been his joy on entering it. His horse carried him of\nits own accord along one of the roads through the forest, and in a few\nhours the merchant was again in his own little house.\n\nHis children gathered round him; but instead of finding pleasure in\ntheir caresses, he began to weep as he looked upon them. He held in his\nhand the branch of roses which he had brought for Beauty. \"Take them,\"\nhe said, as he gave them to her, \"your unhappy father has paid dearly\nfor them.\" And then he told his family of the melancholy adventure that\nhad befallen him.\n\nThe two elder girls, when they had heard his tale, cried and screamed,\nand began saying all sorts of cruel things to Beauty, who did not shed a\ntear. \"See what the pride of this wretched little creature has brought\nus to!\" said they. \"Why couldn't she ask for wearing apparel as we did?\nbut no, she must needs show herself off as a superior person. It is she\nwho will be the cause of our father's death, and she does not even cry!\"\n\n\"That would be of little use,\" replied Beauty. \"Why should I cry about\nmy father's death? He is not going to die. Since the monster is willing\nto accept one of his daughters, I will give myself up to him, that he\nmay vent his full anger upon me; and I am happy in so doing, for by my\ndeath I shall have the joy of saving my father, and of proving my love\nfor him.\"\n\n\"No, my sister,\" said the three brothers, \"you shall not die; we will go\nand find out this monster, and we will either kill him or die beneath\nhis blows.\" \"Do not hope to kill him,\" said their father to them; \"for\nthe Beast is so powerful, that I fear there are no means by which he\ncould be destroyed. My Beauty's loving heart fills mine with gladness,\nbut she shall not be exposed to such a terrible death. I am old, I have\nbut a little while to live; I shall but lose a few years of life, which\nI regret on your account, and on yours alone, my children.\"\n\n\"I am determined, my father,\" said Beauty, \"that you shall not return to\nthat castle without me; you cannot prevent me following you. Although I\nam young, life has no great attraction for me, and I would far rather be\ndevoured by the monster than die of the grief which your death would\ncause me.\"\n\nIn vain the others tried to dissuade her, Beauty persisted in her\ndetermination to go to the castle; and her sisters were not sorry about\nit, for the virtues of their young sister had aroused in them a strong\nfeeling of jealousy.\n\nThe merchant was so taken up with grief at losing his daughter, that he\nquite forgot about the trunk which he had filled with gold pieces, but,\nto his astonishment, he had no sooner shut himself into his room for the\nnight, than he found it beside his bed. He resolved not to tell his\nchildren of his newly-obtained riches, for he knew that his daughters\nwould then wish to return to the town, and he had made up his mind to\ndie where he was in the country. He confided his secret, however, to\nBeauty, who told him that there had been visitors at the house during\nhis absence, among them two who were in love with her sisters. She\nbegged her father to marry them; for she was so good of heart, that she\nloved them and freely forgave them all the unkindness they had shown\nher.\n\nThe two hard-hearted girls rubbed their eyes with an onion that they\nmight shed tears on the departure of their father and Beauty; but the\nbrothers wept sincerely, as did also the merchant; Beauty alone would\nnot cry, fearing that it might increase their sorrow. The horse took the\nroad that led to the castle, and as evening fell, it came in view,\nilluminated as before. Again the horse was the only one in the stable,\nand once more the merchant entered the large dining-hall, this time with\nhis daughter, and there they found the table magnificently laid for two.\n\nThe merchant had not the heart to eat; but Beauty, doing her utmost to\nappear cheerful, sat down to the table and served him to something. Then\nshe said to herself, \"The Beast wants to fatten me before he eats me,\nsince he provides such good cheer.\"\n\nThey had finished their supper, when they heard a great noise, and the\nmerchant, weeping, said farewell to his poor daughter, for he knew it\nwas the Beast. Beauty could not help shuddering when she saw the\ndreadful shape approaching; but she did her best not to give way to her\nfear, and when the Beast asked her if it was of her own free will that\nshe had come, she told him, trembling, that it was so. \"You are very\ngood, and I am much obliged to you,\" said the Beast. \"Good man,\nto-morrow morning you will leave, and do not venture ever to come here\nagain.\" \"Good-bye, Beast,\" replied Beauty, and the Beast immediately\nretired. \"Alas! my daughter,\" said the merchant, clasping Beauty in his\narms, \"I am half dead with fright. Listen to me, and leave me here.\"\n\"No, my father,\" said Beauty, without faltering. \"You will depart\nto-morrow morning, and you will leave me under Heaven's protection,\nmaybe I shall find pity and help.\"\n\n[Illustration: '_Her father was just arriving._' _Beauty & the Beast_]\n\nThey retired to rest, thinking that they would have no sleep that night;\nbut no sooner were they in bed than their eyes closed. In her dreams\nthere appeared to Beauty a lady, who said to her, \"I have pleasure in\nthe goodness of your heart, Beauty; your good action in giving your life\nto save that of your father will not be without its reward.\" Beauty told\nher father next morning of her dream, and although it afforded him some\nconsolation, it did not prevent his loud cries of grief when at last he\nwas forced to bid good-bye to his dear daughter.\n\nAfter his departure, Beauty went back and sat down in the dining-hall,\nand began weeping herself. She was, however, of a courageous\ndisposition, and so she commended herself to God, and resolved not to be\nmiserable during the short time still left her to live, for she quite\nthought that the Beast would eat her that evening. In the meanwhile she\nresolved to walk about and look over the fine castle she was in. She\nfound it impossible not to admire its beauty, but her surprise was great\nwhen she came to a door over which was written: Beauty's Room. She\nhastily opened the door, and was dazzled by the magnificence of the\nwhole apartment; what most attracted her admiration, however, was a\nlarge bookcase, a piano, and several books of music.\n\n\"He does not wish me to feel dull,\" she said in a low voice. Then the\nthought came to her, \"If I was only going to live here a day, there\nwould not have been so much provided for my amusement.\" This thought\nrevived her courage.\n\nShe opened the bookcase and there saw a book on which was written in\nletters of gold:--\n\n\"Wish what you like, Command what you will, You alone are Queen and\nMistress here.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" she murmured, sighing, \"I wish for nothing but to see my dear\nfather again, and to know what he is doing at this moment.\" She had only\nsaid this to herself in a low voice, what was her surprise, therefore,\nwhen, turning towards a large mirror, she saw her home, and her father,\njust returned, wearing a sad countenance; her sisters went forward to\nmeet him, and in spite of the expression of sorrow which they tried to\nassume, it was evident in their faces that they were delighted to have\nlost their sister. In another minute, the picture had disappeared, and\nBeauty could not help thinking that the Beast was very kind hearted, and\nthat she had not much to fear from him.\n\nShe found the table laid for her at noon, and during her dinner she was\nentertained with a delightful concert, although no creature was visible.\n\nIn the evening, as she was just sitting down to her meal, she heard the\nsound of the Beast's voice, and could not help shuddering. \"Beauty,\"\nsaid the monster to her, \"will you allow me to look on while you are\neating your supper?\" \"You are master here,\" replied Beauty, trembling.\n\"Not so,\" rejoined the Beast, \"it is you who alone are mistress; if I\nannoy you, you have only to tell me to go, and I will leave you at\nonce. But confess now, you think me very ugly, do you not?\" \"That is\ntrue,\" said Beauty, \"for I cannot tell a lie; but I think you are very\nkind.\"\n\n\"You are right,\" said the monster; \"but, besides being ugly, I am also\nstupid; I know, well enough, that I am only a Beast.\"\n\n\"No one is stupid, who believes himself to be wanting in intelligence,\nit is the fool who is not aware of being without it.\" \"Eat, Beauty,\"\nsaid the monster to her, \"and try to find pleasure in your own house;\nfor everything here belongs to you. I should be very sorry if you were\nunhappy.\" \"You are everything that is kind,\" said Beauty. \"I assure you\nthat your goodness of heart makes me happy; when I think of that, you no\nlonger appear so ugly to me.\" \"Ah, yes!\" replied the Beast, \"I have a\nkind heart, but for all that I am a monster.\" \"Many men are more\nmonsters than you,\" said Beauty; \"and I care more for you with your\ncountenance, than for those who with their human face hide a false,\ncorrupt, and ungrateful heart.\" \"If I had sufficient wit,\" responded the\nBeast, \"I would make you a pretty answer in return for your words; but I\nam too stupid for that, and all I can say is, that I am very grateful to\nyou.\"\n\nBeauty ate her supper with a good appetite. She had lost almost all her\nfear of the monster, but she almost died of fright, when he said,\n\"Beauty, will you be my wife?\"\n\nShe sat for a while without answering; she was alarmed at the thought of\narousing the monster's anger by refusing him. Nevertheless she finally\nsaid, trembling, \"No, Beast.\" At this the poor monster sighed, and the\nhideous sound he made echoed throughout the castle, but Beauty was soon\nreassured, for the Beast, after sadly bidding her adieu, left the room,\nturning his head from time to time to look at her again.\n\nA strong feeling of compassion for the Beast came over Beauty when she\nwas left alone. \"Alas!\" she said, \"it is a pity he is so ugly, for he is\nso good!\"\n\nBeauty spent three months in the castle, more or less happily. The Beast\npaid her a visit every evening, and conversed with her as she ate her\nsupper, showing good sense in his talk, but not what the world deems\ncleverness. Every day Beauty discovered some fresh good quality in the\nmonster; she grew accustomed to his ugliness, and far from fearing his\nvisit, she would often look at her watch to see if it was nearly nine\no'clock, for the Beast always arrived punctually at that hour. There was\nonly one thing which caused distress to Beauty, and that was, that every\nevening before retiring, the monster asked her if she would be his wife,\nand always appeared overcome with sorrow at her refusal. One day she\nsaid to him, \"You grieve me, Beast; I wish it were possible for me to\nmarry you, but I am too truthful to make you believe that such a thing\ncould ever happen; I shall always be your friend, try to be satisfied\nwith that.\" \"I suppose I must,\" responded the Beast; \"I know I am\nhorrible to look upon, but I love you very much. However, I am but too\nhappy that you consent to remain here; promise me that you will never\nleave me.\" The colour came into Beauty's face; her mirror had shown her\nthat her father was ill with the grief of losing her, and she was hoping\nto see him again. \"I would promise without hesitation never to leave\nyou,\" said Beauty to him, \"but I do so long to see my father again, that\nI shall die of sorrow if you refuse me this pleasure.\" \"I would rather\ndie myself,\" said the monster, \"than give you pain; I will send you home\nto your father, you will stay there, and your poor Beast will die of\ngrief at your absence.\" \"No, no,\" said Beauty, crying; \"I care for you\ntoo much to wish to cause your death; I promise to return in a week's\ntime. You have let me see that my sisters are married, and that my\nbrothers have entered the army. My father is all alone, let me remain\nwith him a week.\" \"You shall be with him to-morrow morning, but remember\nyour promise. When you wish to return, you have only to put your ring on\nthe table before going to bed. Farewell, Beauty.\" The Beast gave his\nusual sigh as he said these words, and Beauty went to bed feeling\ntroubled at the thought of the sorrow she had caused him. When she awoke\nthe following morning, she found herself at home, and ringing a little\nbell that stood beside her bed, the maid-servant came in, who gave a\nloud cry of astonishment at seeing her there. Her father ran in on\nhearing the cry, and almost died of joy when he found his dear daughter,\nand they remained clasped in each other's arms for more than a quarter\nof an hour.\n\nBeauty, after the first transports of joy were over, remembered that she\nhad no clothes with her; but the servant told her that she had just\nfound a trunk in the next room, in which were dresses of gold fabric,\ntrimmed with diamonds. Beauty thanked the kind Beast for his\nthoughtfulness. She took out the least costly of the dresses, and told\nthe maid to lock the others away again, as she wished to give them to\nher sisters; but she had no sooner uttered these words, than the trunk\ndisappeared. Her father said to her that the Beast evidently wished her\nto keep them all for herself, and the trunk and the dresses immediately\nreappeared.\n\nBeauty dressed herself, and, meanwhile, news of her arrival was sent to\nher sisters, who came in haste with their husbands. They were both\nextremely unhappy. The eldest had married a young man who was as\nhandsome as nature could make him, but he was so in love with his own\nface, that he could think of nothing else from morning to night, and\ncared nothing for the beauty of his wife. The second had married a very\nwitty and clever man, but he only made use of his ability to put\neverybody in a bad temper, beginning with his wife.\n\nHer sisters nearly died of envy when they saw Beauty dressed like a\nprincess, and beautiful as the day. In vain she showered caresses upon\nthem, nothing could stifle their jealousy, which only increased when she\ntold them how happy she was.\n\nThese two jealous creatures went into the garden, that they might cry\nmore at their ease. They said to one another, \"Why should this wretched\nlittle thing be happier than we are? Are we not more attractive than she\nis?\"\n\n\"Sister,\" said the eldest one, \"an idea has occurred to me: let us try\nto keep her here over the week. Her stupid old Beast will be enraged at\nher breaking her word, and perhaps he will devour her.\" \"You are right,\nsister,\" replied the other; \"to carry out our plan, we must appear very\nloving and kind to her.\" And having settled this, they went back to the\nhouse and were so affectionate to her, that Beauty cried for joy. When\nthe week drew to a close, the two sisters showed such signs of grief at\nher departure, and made such lamentation, that she promised to stay till\nthe end of the second one. Beauty, however, reproached herself for the\nsorrow she would cause her poor Beast, whom she loved with all her\nheart; and she began to miss him very much. On the tenth night of her\nabsence, she dreamed that she was in the garden of the castle, and that\nshe saw the Beast lying on the grass, apparently dying, and that he\nreproached her with her ingratitude. Beauty awoke with a start, and\nwept. \"I am indeed wicked,\" she said, \"to behave so ungratefully to a\nBeast who has been so considerate and kind to me! Is it his fault that\nhe is ugly and that he is not clever? He is good, and that is worth\neverything else. Why did I refuse to marry him? I should be happier with\nhim than my sisters are with their husbands. It is neither beauty nor\nwit in a husband which makes a wife happy; it is amiability of\ncharacter, uprightness and generosity: and the Beast has all these good\nqualities. I do not love him, but I respect him, and I feel both\naffection for him, and gratitude. I will not make him unhappy; should I\ndo so, I should reproach myself for it as long as I live.\"\n\nWith these words, Beauty rose, placed her ring on a table, and lay down\nagain. The moment she was in bed, she fell asleep, and when she awoke\nnext morning, she saw with delight that she was back in the Beast's\ncastle. She dressed herself magnificently, in order to please him, and\nthe hours seemed to drag as she waited for nine o'clock to strike; but\nthe hour came, and the Beast did not appear.\n\nThen Beauty began to fear that she had caused his death. She ran through\nthe castle, uttering loud cries, for she was in despair. After having\nlooked everywhere, she remembered her dream, and ran into the garden\ntowards the water, where she had seen him in her sleep. She found the\npoor Beast stretched on the ground, and unconscious, and she thought he\nwas dead. Forgetting her horror at his appearance, she threw herself\nupon him, and feeling that his heart was still beating, she fetched some\nwater and threw it over his head. The Beast opened his eyes, and said to\nBeauty, \"You forgot your promise; in my grief at losing you, I\ndetermined to let myself die of hunger; but I die happy, since I have\nhad the joy of seeing you once again.\" \"No, my dear Beast, you shall not\ndie,\" exclaimed Beauty. \"You shall live to be my husband; I am yours\nfrom this moment, and only yours. Alas! I thought the feeling I had for\nyou was only one of friendship; but now I know, by the grief I feel,\nthat I cannot live without you.\" Beauty had scarcely uttered these words\nbefore she saw the castle suddenly become brilliantly illuminated,\nwhile fire-works, music, everything indicated the celebration of some\njoyful event. She did not gaze long, however, at these splendours, but\nquickly turned her eyes again towards her dear Beast, the thought of\nwhose danger made her tremble with anxiety. But what was her surprise\nwhen she saw that the Beast had disappeared, and that a young and\nhandsome Prince was lying at her feet, who thanked her for having\nreleased him from enchantment. Although this Prince was fully worthy of\nher attention, Beauty, nevertheless, could not help asking what had\nbecome of the Beast. \"You see him at your feet,\" said the Prince to her.\n\"A wicked fairy condemned me to remain in the form of a monster, until\nsome fair damsel would consent to marry me, and she forbade me also to\nbetray that I had intelligence. You are the only one who has been kind\nenough to allow the goodness of my heart to touch yours, and I cannot,\neven by offering you my crown, acquit myself of obligation to you.\"\n\nBeauty, agreeably surprised, gave the young Prince her hand, to help him\nto rise. They passed, side by side, into the castle, and Beauty nearly\ndied of joy, when she found her father and all her family assembled in\nthe dining-hall, the beautiful lady whom she had seen in her dream\nhaving transported them thither. \"Beauty,\" said the lady, who was a\nwell-known fairy, \"receive the recompense of your noble choice; you\npreferred virtue to beauty or intelligence, and you therefore deserve to\nfind all these qualities united in one person. You are soon to become a\ngreat queen; I trust your exalted position will not destroy your good\ndisposition. As for you,\" said the fairy, turning to Beauty's sisters,\n\"I know your hearts and all the malice concealed in them. Be turned,\ntherefore, into statues, but preserve your consciousness beneath the\nstone which will envelop you. You will remain at the entrance of your\nsister's palace, and I impose no further punishment upon you, than to be\nthe constant witnesses of her happiness. You will not be able to resume\nyour present forms, until you have recognised and confessed your faults,\nbut I greatly fear that you will always remain statues. Pride, anger,\ngreediness, and laziness may be corrected; but nothing short of a\nmiracle can convert the envious and malicious heart.\" The fairy then\ngave a tap with her wand, and all those assembled in the dining-hall\nwere immediately transported into the Prince's kingdom. His subjects\ngreeted him with joy; he married Beauty, who lived a long life with him\nof perfect happiness, for it was founded upon virtue.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BENEVOLENT FROG\n\n\nThere was once a King who for many years had been engaged in a war with\nhis neighbours; a great number of battles had been fought, and at last\nthe enemy laid siege to his capital. The King, fearing for the safety of\nthe Queen, begged her to retire to a fortified castle, which he himself\nhad never visited but once. The Queen endeavoured, with many prayers and\ntears, to persuade him to allow her to remain beside him and to share\nhis fate, and it was with loud cries of grief that she was put into her\nchariot by the King to be driven away. He ordered his guards, however,\nto accompany her, and promised to steal away when possible to visit her.\nHe tried to comfort her with this hope, although he knew that there was\nlittle chance of fulfilling it, for the castle stood a long distance\noff, surrounded by a thick forest, and only those who were well\nacquainted with the roads could possibly find their way to it.\n\nThe Queen parted from her husband, broken-hearted at leaving him exposed\nto the dangers of war; she travelled by easy stages, in case the fatigue\nof so long a journey should make her ill; at last she reached the\ncastle, feeling low-spirited and distressed. When sufficiently rested,\nshe walked about the surrounding country, but found nothing to interest\nher or divert her thoughts. She saw only far-spreading desert tracts on\neither side, which gave her more pain than pleasure to look upon; sadly\nshe gazed around her, exclaiming at intervals, \"What a contrast between\nthis place and that in which I have lived all my life! If I stay here\nlong I shall die! To whom have I to talk in these solitudes? With whom\ncan I share my troubles? What have I done to the King that he should\nbanish me? He wishes me, it seems, to feel the full bitterness of our\nseparation, by exiling me to this miserable castle.\"\n\nThus she lamented; and although the King wrote daily to her, and sent\nher good news of the progress of the siege, she grew more and more\nunhappy, and at last determined that she would return to him. Knowing,\nhowever, that the officers who were in attendance upon her had received\norders not to take her back, unless the King sent a special messenger,\nshe kept her design secret, but ordered a small chariot to be built for\nher, in which there was only room for one, saying that she should like\nsometimes to accompany the hunt. She drove herself, and followed so\nclosely on the hounds, that the huntsmen were left behind; by this means\nshe had sole command of her chariot, and could get away whenever she\nliked. Her only difficulty was her ignorance of the roads that traversed\nthe forest; but she trusted to the kindness of Providence to bring her\nsafely through it. She gave word that there was to be a great hunt, and\nthat she wished everybody to be there; she herself would go in her\nchariot, and each was to follow a different route, that there might be\nno possibility of escape for the wild beasts. Everything was done\naccording to her orders. The young Queen, feeling sure that she should\nsoon see her husband again, dressed herself as becomingly as possible;\nher hat was covered with feathers of different colours, the front of her\ndress lavishly trimmed with precious stones, and her beauty, which was\nof no ordinary kind, made her seem, when so adorned, a second Diana.\n\nWhile everybody was occupied with the pleasures of the hunt, she gave\nrein to her horses, encouraged them with voice and whip, and soon their\nquickened pace became a gallop; then, taking the bit between their\nteeth, they flew along at such a speed, that the chariot seemed borne by\nthe winds, and the eye could scarcely follow it. Too late the poor Queen\nrepented of her rashness: \"What could I have been thinking of?\" she\nsaid. \"How could I have imagined that I should be able to control such\nwild and fiery horses? Alas! what will become of me? What would the King\ndo if he knew the great danger I am in, he who loves me so dearly, and\nwho only sent me away that I might be in greater safety! This is my\ngratitude for his tender care!\" The air resounded with her piteous\nlamentations; she invoked Heaven, she called the fairies to her\nassistance, but it seemed that all the powers had abandoned her. The\nchariot was overthrown; she had not sufficient strength to jump quickly\nenough to the ground, and her foot was caught between the wheel and the\naxle-tree; it was only by a miracle she was saved.\n\nShe remained stretched on the ground at the foot of a tree; her heart\nscarcely beat, she could not speak, and her face was covered with blood.\nShe lay thus for a long time; when at last she opened her eyes, she saw,\nstanding near her, a woman of gigantic stature, clothed only in a lion's\nskin, with bare arms and legs, her hair tied up with the dried skin of a\nsnake, the head of which dangled over her shoulders; in her hand was a\nclub made of stone, which served her as a walking-stick, and a quiver\nfull of arrows was fastened to her side. When the Queen caught sight of\nthis extraordinary figure, she felt sure that she was dead, for she did\nnot think it was possible that she could be alive after such a terrible\naccident, and she said in a low voice to herself, \"I am not surprised\nthat it is so difficult to resolve to die, since what is to be seen in\nthe other world is so frightful.\" The giantess, who overheard her words,\ncould not help laughing at the Queen's idea that she was dead. \"Take\ncourage,\" she said to her, \"for know that you are still among the\nliving; but your fate is none the less sad. I am the Fairy Lioness,\nwhose dwelling is near here; you must come and live with me.\" The Queen\nlooked sorrowfully at her, and said, \"If you will be good enough, Madam\nLioness, to take me back to my castle, and tell the King what ransom you\ndemand, he loves me so dearly, that he will not refuse you even the half\nof his kingdom.\" \"No,\" replied the giantess, \"I am rich enough, but for\nsome time past my lonely life has seemed dull to me; you are\nintelligent, and will be able perhaps to amuse me.\" As she finished\nspeaking, she took the form of a lioness, and placing the Queen on her\nback, she carried her to the depths of her cave, and there rubbed her\nwith a spirit which quickly healed the Queen's wounds. But what surprise\nand misery for the Queen to find herself in this dreadful abode! It was\nonly reached by ten thousand steps, which led down to the centre of the\nearth; there was no light but that shed by a number of tall lamps, which\nwere reflected in a lake of quicksilver. This lake was covered with\nmonsters, each hideous enough to have frightened a less timid queen;\nthere were owls, screech-owls, ravens, and other birds of ill omen,\nfilling the air with discordant sounds; in the distance could be seen\nrising a mountain whence flowed the sluggish waters of a stream composed\nof all the tears shed by unhappy lovers, from the reservoirs of their\nsad loves. The trees were bare of leaves and fruit, the ground covered\nwith marigolds, briars, and nettles.\n\n[Illustration: _She saw beside her a woman of a gigantic size._]\n\nThe food corresponded to the climate of this miserable country; for a\nfew dried roots, some horse-chestnuts, and thorn-apples, were all that\nwas provided by the Fairy Lioness to appease the hunger of those who\nfell into her hands.\n\nAs soon as the Queen was well enough to begin work, the fairy told her\nshe could build herself a hut, as she was going to remain with her for\nthe rest of her life. On hearing this, the Queen could no longer\nrestrain her tears: \"Alas, what have I done to you,\" she cried, \"that\nyou should keep me here? If my death, which I feel is near, would give\nyou pleasure, I pray you, kill me, it is all the kindness I dare hope\nfrom you; but do not condemn me to pass a long and melancholy life apart\nfrom my husband.\"\n\nThe Lioness only scoffed at her, and told her that the best thing she\ncould do was to dry her tears, and try to please her; that if she acted\notherwise, she would be the most miserable person in the world.\n\n\"What must I do then,\" replied the Queen, \"to soften your heart?\" \"I am\nfond of fly-pasties,\" said the Lioness. \"You must find means of\nprocuring a sufficient number of flies to make me a large and\nsweet-tasting one.\" \"But,\" said the Queen, \"I see no flies here, and\neven were there any, it is not light enough to catch them; and if I were\nto catch some, I have never in my life made pastry, so that you are\ngiving me orders which it is impossible for me to execute.\" \"No matter,\"\nsaid the pitiless Lioness; \"that which I wish to have, I will have.\"\n\nThe Queen made no reply: she thought to herself, in spite of the cruel\nfairy, that she had but one life to lose, and in the condition in which\nshe then was, what was there to fear in death? Instead, therefore, of\ngoing in search of flies, she sat herself down under a yew tree, and\nbegan to weep and complain: \"Ah, my dear husband, what grief will be\nyours, when you go to the castle to fetch me, and find I am not there;\nyou will think that I am dead, or faithless, and I would rather that you\nshould mourn the loss of my life, than that of my love; perhaps someone\nwill find the remains of my chariot in the forest, and all the ornaments\nwhich I took with me to please you; and when you see these, you will no\nlonger doubt that death has taken me; and how can I tell that you will\nnot give to another the heart's love which you have shared with me? But,\nat least, I shall not have the pain of knowing this, since I am not to\nreturn to the world.\" She would have continued communing thus with\nherself for a long time, if she had not been interrupted by the dismal\ncroaking of a raven above her head. She lifted her eyes, and by the\nfeeble light saw a large raven with a frog in its bill, and about to\nswallow it. \"Although I see no help at hand for myself,\" she said, \"I\nwill not let this poor frog perish if I can save it; it suffers as much\nin its way, as I do in mine, although our conditions are so different,\"\nand picking up the first stick she could find, she made the raven drop\nits prey. The frog fell to the ground, where it lay for a time\nhalf-stunned, but finally recovering its froggish senses, it began to\nspeak, and said: \"Beautiful Queen, you are the first benevolent person\nthat I have seen since my curiosity first brought me here.\" \"By what\nwonderful power are you enabled to speak, little Frog?\" responded the\nQueen, \"and what kind of people do you see here? for as yet I have seen\nnone.\" \"All the monsters that cover the lake,\" replied the little Frog,\n\"were once in the world: some on thrones, some in high positions at\ncourt; there are even here some royal ladies, who caused much strife and\nblood*-shed; it is they whom you see changed into leeches; their fate\ncondemns them to be here for a time, but none of those who come return\nto the world better or wiser.\" \"I can well understand,\" said the Queen,\n\"that many wicked people together do not help to make each other better;\nbut you, my little Frog friend, what are you doing here?\" \"It was\ncuriosity which led me here,\" she replied. \"I am half a fairy, my powers\nare restricted with regard to certain things, but far-reaching in\nothers; if the Fairy Lioness knew that I was in her dominions, she would\nkill me.\"\n\n\"Whether fairy or half-fairy,\" said the Queen, \"I cannot understand how\nyou could have fallen into the raven's clutches and been nearly eaten.\"\n\"I can explain it in a few words,\" replied the Frog. \"When I have my\nlittle cap of roses on my head, I fear nothing, as in that resides most\nof my power; unfortunately, I had left it in the marsh, when that ugly\nraven pounced upon me; if it had not been for you, madam, I should be no\nmore; and as you have saved my life, you have only to command, and I\nwill do all in my power to alleviate the sorrows of your own.\" \"Alas!\ndear Frog,\" said the Queen, \"the wicked fairy who holds me captive\nwishes me to make her a fly-pasty; but there are no flies here; if there\nwere any, I could not see in the dim light to catch them; I run a\nchance, therefore, of being killed by her blows.\"\n\n\"Leave it to me,\" said the Frog. \"I will soon get you some.\" Whereupon\nthe Frog rubbed herself over with sugar, and more than six thousand of\nher frog friends did likewise; then they repaired to a place where the\nfairy kept a large store of flies, for the purpose of tormenting some of\nher unhappy victims. As soon as they smelt the sugar, they flew to it,\nand stuck to the frogs, and these kind helpers returned at a gallop to\nthe Queen. There had never been such a fly-catching before, nor a better\npasty, than that the Queen made for the fairy. The latter was greatly\nsurprised when the Queen handed it to her, and could not imagine how she\nhad been clever enough to catch the flies.\n\nThe Queen, finding herself exposed to the inclemencies of the poisonous\natmosphere, cut down some cypress branches, wherewith to build herself a\nhut. The Frog generously offered her services, and putting herself at\nthe head of all those who had gone to collect the flies, they helped the\nQueen to build as pretty a little tenement as the world could show.\nScarcely, however, had she laid herself down to rest, than the monsters\nof the lake, jealous of her repose, came round her hut, and nearly drove\nher distracted, by setting up a noise, more hideous than any ever heard\nbefore.\n\nShe rose in fear and trembling and fled from the house: this was exactly\nwhat the monsters desired. A dragon, who had formerly been a tyrant of\none of the finest states of the Universe, immediately took possession of\nit.\n\nThe poor Queen tried to complain of the ill-treatment, but no one would\nlisten to her; the monsters laughed and hooted at her, and the Fairy\nLioness told her that if she came again to deafen her with lamentations,\nshe would give her a sound thrashing. She was forced, therefore, to\nhold her tongue, and to have recourse to the Frog, who was the kindest\nbody in the world. They wept together; for as soon as she put on her cap\nof roses, the Frog was able to laugh or weep like anyone else. \"I feel\nsuch an affection for you,\" she said to the Queen, \"that I will re-build\nyour house, even though I drive all the monsters of the lake to\ndespair.\" She immediately cut some wood, and the little rustic palace of\nthe Queen was so quickly reared, that she was able to sleep in it that\nnight. The Frog, who thought of everything that was necessary for the\nQueen's comfort, made her a bed of wild thyme. When the wicked fairy\nfound out that the Queen did not sleep on the ground, she sent for her:\n\"What gods or men are they who protect you?\" she asked. \"This land,\nwatered only by showers of burning sulphur, has never produced even a\nleaf of sage; I am told, nevertheless, that sweet-smelling herbs spring\nup beneath your feet!\"\n\n\"I cannot explain it, madam,\" said the Queen, \"unless the cause is due\nto the child I hope one day to have, who will perhaps be less unhappy\nthan I am.\"\n\n\"What I now wish for,\" said the fairy, \"is a bunch of the rarest\nflowers; see if this coming happiness you speak of will obtain these for\nyou. If you fail to get them, blows will not fail to follow, for these I\noften give, and know well how to administer.\" The Queen began to cry;\nsuch threats as these were anything but pleasant to her and she was in\ndespair at the thought of the impossibility of finding flowers.\n\nShe went back to her little house; her friend the Frog came to her:\n\"How unhappy you are!\" she said to the Queen. \"Alas! who would not be\nso, dear friend? The fairy has ordered a bunch of the most beautiful\nflowers, and where am I to find them? You see what sort of flowers grow\nhere; my life, nevertheless, is at stake, if I do not procure them for\nher.\" \"Dear Queen,\" said the Frog in tender tones, \"we must try our best\nto get you out of this difficulty. There lives a bat in this\nneighbourhood, the only one with whom I have made acquaintance; she is a\ngood creature, and moves more quickly than I can; I will give her my cap\nof roses, and aided by this, she will be able to find you the flowers.\"\nThe Queen made a low curtsey; for there was no possible way of embracing\nthe Frog. The latter went off without delay to speak to the bat; a few\nhours later she returned, bearing under her wings the most exquisite\nflowers. The Queen hurried off with them to the fairy, who was more\novercome by surprise than before, unable to understand in what\nmiraculous way the Queen received help.\n\nMeanwhile the Queen was continually thinking by what means she could\nescape. She confided her longing to the Frog, who said to her, \"Madam,\nallow me first to consult my little cap, and we will then arrange\nmatters according to its advice.\" She took her cap, placed it on some\nstraw, and then burned in front of it a few sprigs of juniper, some\ncapers, and two green peas; she then croaked five times, and the\nceremony being then completed, she put on her cap again, and began\nspeaking like an oracle. \"Fate, the ruler of all things, forbids you to\nleave this place. You will have a little Princess, more beautiful than\nVenus herself; do not trouble yourself about anything else, time alone\ncan comfort you.\" The Queen's head drooped, a few tears fell from her\neyes, but she resolved to trust her friend: \"At least,\" she said to her,\n\"do not leave me here alone; and befriend me when my little one is\nborn.\" The Frog promised to remain with her, and comforted her as best\nshe could.\n\nBut it is now time to return to the King. While the enemy kept him shut\nup in his capital, he could not continually send messengers to the\nQueen. At last, however, after several sorties, he obliged the besiegers\nto retire, and he rejoiced at his success less on his own account, than\non that of the Queen, whom he could now bring back in safety. He was in\ntotal ignorance of the disaster which had befallen her, for none of his\nofficers had dared to tell him of it. They had been into the forest and\nfound the remains of the chariot, the runaway horses, and the driving\napparel which she had put on when going to find her husband. As they\nwere fully persuaded that she was dead, and had been eaten by wild\nbeasts, their only care was to make the King believe that she had died\nsuddenly. On receiving this mournful intelligence, he thought he should\ndie himself of grief; he tore his hair, he wept many tears, and gave\nvent to his bereavement in every imaginable expression of sorrow, cries,\nsobs, and sighs. For some days he would see no one, nor allow himself to\nbe seen; he then returned to his capital, and entered on a long period\nof mourning, to which the sorrow of his heart testified more sincerely\nthan even his sombre garments of grief. All the surrounding kings sent\ntheir ambassadors charged with messages of condolence; and when the\nceremonies, indispensable to these occasions, were over, he granted his\nsubjects a period of peace, exempting them from military service, and\nhelping them, in every possible way, to improve their commerce.\n\nThe Queen knew nothing of all this. Meanwhile a little Princess had been\nborn to her, as beautiful as the Frog had predicted, to whom they gave\nthe name of Moufette. The Queen had great difficulty in persuading the\nfairy to allow her to bring up the child, for so ferocious was she, that\nshe would have liked to eat it. Moufette, a wonder of beauty, was now\nsix months old; the Queen, as she looked upon her with a tenderness\nmingled with pity, continually said: \"Ah! if your father could see you,\nmy poor little one, how delighted he would be! how dear you would be to\nhim! But even, already, maybe, he has begun to forget me; he believes,\nno doubt, that we are lost to him in death; and perhaps another fills\nthe place in his heart, that once was mine.\"\n\nThese sorrowful reflections caused her many tears; the Frog, who truly\nloved her, seeing her cry like this, said to her one day: \"If you would\nlike me to do so, madam, I will go and find the King, your husband; the\njourney is long, and I travel but slowly; but, sooner or later, I shall\nhope to arrive.\" This proposal could not have been more warmly received\nthan it was; the Queen clasped her hands, and made Moufette clasp hers\ntoo, in sign of the gratitude she felt towards Madam Frog, for offering\nto undertake the journey. She assured her that the King also would not\nbe ungrateful; \"but,\" she continued, \"of what use will it be to him to\nknow that I am in this melancholy abode; it will be impossible for him\nto deliver me from it?\" \"Madam,\" replied the Frog, \"we must leave that\nto Heaven; we can only do that which depends on ourselves.\"\n\nThey said good-bye to one another; the Queen sent a message to the King,\nwritten with her blood on a piece of rag; for she possessed neither ink\nnor paper. She begged him to give attention to everything the good Frog\ntold him, and to believe all she said, as she was bringing him news of\nherself.\n\nThe Frog was a year and four days climbing up the ten thousand steps\nwhich lead from the dark country, in which she had left the Queen, up\ninto the world; it took her another year to prepare her equipage, for\nshe had too much pride to allow herself to appear at the Court like a\npoor, common frog from the marshes. She had a little sedan-chair made,\nlarge enough to hold two eggs comfortably; it was covered on the outside\nwith tortoise-shell, and lined with lizard-skin; then she chose fifty\nmaids of honour, these were the little green frogs which hop about the\nmeadows; each was mounted on a snail, furnished with a light saddle, and\nrode in style with the leg thrown over the saddle-bow; several\nwater-rats, dressed as pages, ran before the snails, as her body-guard;\nin short, nothing so pretty had ever been seen before, and to crown it\nall, her cap of crimson roses, always fresh and in full bloom, suited\nher in the most admirable manner. She was a bit of a coquette in her\nway, so she felt obliged to add a little rouge and a few patches; some\nsaid that she was painted as were many ladies of that country, but\ninquiries into the matter proved that this report had only been spread\nby her enemies.\n\nThe journey lasted seven years, during which time the poor Queen went\nthrough unspeakable pains and suffering, and if it had not been for the\nbeautiful Moufette, who was a great comfort to her, she would have died\na hundred times over. This wonderful little creature could not open her\nmouth or say a word, without filling her mother with delight; indeed,\neverybody, with the exception of the Fairy Lioness, was enchanted with\nher; at last, when the Queen had lived six years in this horrible place,\nthe fairy said that, provided everything she killed was given to her,\nshe might go hunting with her.\n\nThe joy of the Queen at once more seeing the sun may be imagined. So\nunaccustomed had she grown to its light, that at first she thought it\nwould blind her. As for Moufette, she was so quick and intelligent, that\neven at five or six years of age, she never failed to hit her mark, and\nso, in this way, the mother and daughter succeeded in somewhat lessening\nthe ferocity of the fairy.\n\nThe Frog travelled over mountains and valleys, never stopping day or\nnight; at last she drew near the capital, where the King was in\nresidence. She was surprised to see dancing and festivity in every\ndirection; there was laughter and singing, and the nearer she got to\nthe town, the more joyous and jubilant the people seemed. Her rural\nequipage caused great astonishment, everyone went after it, and so large\nhad the crowd become by the time she had reached the town, that she had\ngreat difficulty in making her way to the palace. Here everything was as\nmagnificent as possible, for the King, who had been a widower for nine\nyears, had at last yielded to the prayers of his subjects, and was on\nthe eve of marriage with a Princess, less beautiful, it is true, than\nhis wife, but not the less agreeable for that.\n\nThe kind Frog, having descended from her sedan-chair, entered the royal\npresence, followed by her attendants. She had no need to ask for\naudience, for the King, his affianced bride, and all the princes, were\nall much too curious to know the reason of her coming, to think of\ninterrupting her. \"Sire,\" said she, \"I hardly know if the news I bring\nyou will give you joy or sorrow; the marriage which you are about to\ncelebrate, convinces me of your infidelity to the Queen.\"\n\n\"Her memory is dear to me as ever,\" said the King, unable to prevent the\nfalling of a tear or two; \"but you must know, kind frog, that kings are\nnot always able to do what they wish; for the last nine years, my\nsubjects have been urging me to marry; I owe them an heir to the throne,\nand I have therefore chosen this young Princess, who appears to me all\nthat is charming.\" \"I advise you not to marry her, for the Queen is not\ndead; I bring you a letter from her, written with her own blood. A\nlittle daughter, Moufette, has been born to you, more beautiful than\nthe heavens themselves.\" The King took the rag, on which the Queen had\nscrawled a few words; he kissed it, he bathed it in his tears, he showed\nit to the whole assembly, saying that he recognised his wife's\nhandwriting; he asked the Frog a thousand questions, which she answered\nwith vivacity and intelligence.\n\nThe betrothed Princess, the ambassadors who had come to be present at\nthe marriage, began to pull long faces. One of the most important of the\nguests turned to the King, and said, \"Sire, can you think of breaking so\nsolemn an engagement, on the word of a toad like that? This scum of the\nmarshes has the insolence to come and tell lies before the whole Court,\nfor the pleasure of being heard!\" \"Know, your Excellency,\" replied the\nFrog, \"that I am no scum of the marshes, and since I am forced to\nexhibit my powers: Come forth, fairies all!\" And thereupon all the\nfrogs, rats, snails, lizards, with the frog at their head, suddenly\nappeared; not, however, in the usual form of these reptiles, but with\ntall, majestic figures, pleasing countenances, and eyes more brilliant\nthan stars; each wore a jewelled crown on his head, and over his\nshoulders a regal mantle of velvet, lined with ermine, with a long train\nwhich was borne by dwarfs. At the same time was heard the sound of\ntrumpets, kettle-drums, hautboys, and drums, filling the air with\nmelodious and warlike music, and all the fairies began to dance a\nballet, their every step so light, that the slightest spring lifted them\nto the vaulted ceiling of the room. The King and his future Queen,\nsurprised as they were at this, were no less astonished, when they saw\nall these fairy ballet dancers suddenly change into flowers, jasmine,\njonquils, violets, pinks, and tube roses, which still continued to dance\nas if they had legs and feet. It was like a living flower-bed, of which\nevery movement delighted both the eye and the sense of smell. Another\nmoment, and the flowers had disappeared; in their place several\nfountains threw their waters into the air and fell into an artificial\nlake at the foot of the castle walls; this was covered with little\npainted and gilded boats, so pretty and dainty that the Princess invited\nthe ambassadors to go for a trip on the water. They were all pleased to\ndo so, thinking it was all a merry pastime, which would end happily in\nthe marriage festivities. But they had no sooner embarked, than the\nboats, water, and fountains disappeared, and the frogs were frogs again.\nThe King asked what had become of the Princess; the Frog replied, \"Sire,\nno queen is yours, but your wife; were I less attached to her than I am,\nI should not interfere; but she is so deserving, and your daughter\nMoufette is so charming that you ought not to delay a moment in going to\ntheir deliverance.\" \"I assure you, Madam Frog,\" said the King, \"that if\nI did not believe my wife to be dead, there is nothing in the world I\nwould not do to see her again.\" \"After the wonders I have shown you,\"\nshe replied, \"it seems to me that you ought to be more convinced of the\ntruth of what I have told you. Leave your kingdom in charge of\ntrustworthy men, and start without delay. Here is a ring which will\nfurnish you with the means of seeing the Queen, and of speaking with\nthe Fairy Lioness, although she is the most terrible creature in the\nworld.\"\n\nThe King departed, refusing to have anyone to accompany him, after\nmaking handsome presents to the Frog: \"Do not be discouraged,\" she said\nto him; \"you will meet with terrible difficulties, but I hope that you\nwill succeed according to your wishes.\" Somewhat comforted by her words,\nthe King started in search of his dear wife, with no other guide than\nhis ring.\n\nAs Moufette grew older, her beauty became more perfect, and all the\nmonsters of the quicksilver lake fell in love with her; and the dragons,\nwith their hideous and terrifying forms, came and lay at her feet.\nAlthough Moufette had seen them ever since she was born, her beautiful\neyes could not accustom themselves to the sight of these creatures, and\nshe would run away and hide in her mother's arms. \"Shall we remain here\nlong?\" she asked her; \"is there to be no end to our misery?\" The Queen\nspoke hopefully in order to cheer her child, but in her heart she had no\nhope; the absence of the Frog, her unbroken silence, the long time that\nhad elapsed since she had news of the King, all these things filled her\nwith sorrow and despair.\n\nThe Fairy Lioness had gradually made it a practice to take them with her\nhunting. She was fond of good things, and liked the game they killed for\nher, and although all they got in return was the gift of the head or the\nfeet, it was something to be allowed to see again the light of day. The\nfairy took the form of a lioness, the Queen and her daughter seated\nthemselves on her back, and thus they went hunting through the forests.\n\nThe King happened to be resting in a forest one day, whither his ring\nhad guided him, and saw them pass like an arrow shot from the bow; he\nwas unseen of them, and when he tried to follow them, they vanished\ncompletely from his sight. Notwithstanding the constant trouble she had\nbeen in, the Queen still preserved her former beauty; she appeared to\nher husband more charming than ever. He longed for her to return to him,\nand feeling sure that the young Princess who was with her was his dear\nlittle Moufette, he determined to face a thousand deaths, rather than\nabandon his design of rescuing her.\n\nBy the help of his ring, he found his way into the obscure region where\nthe Queen had been so many years; he was not a little surprised when he\nfound himself descending to the centre of the earth, but every fresh\nthing he saw astonished him more and more. The Fairy Lioness, who knew\neverything, was aware of the day and the hour when he would arrive; she\nwould have given a great deal if the powers in league with her had\nordained otherwise; but she determined at least to oppose his strength\nwith the full might of her own.\n\nShe built a palace of crystal, which floated in the centre of the lake\nof quicksilver, and rose and fell with its waves. In it she imprisoned\nthe Queen and her daughter, and then harangued all the monsters who were\nin love with Moufette. \"You will lose this beautiful Princess,\" she said\nto them, \"if you do not help me to protect her from a knight who has\ncome to carry her away.\" The monsters promised to leave nothing in their\npower undone; they surrounded the palace of crystal; the lightest in\nweight took their stations on the roof and walls; the others kept guard\nat the doors, and the remainder in the lake.\n\nThe King, advised by his faithful ring, went first to the Fairy's Cave;\nshe was awaiting him in her form of lioness. As soon as he appeared she\nthrew herself upon him; but he handled his sword with a valour for which\nshe was not prepared, and as she was putting out one of her paws to fell\nhim to the earth, he cut it off at the joint just where the elbow comes.\nShe uttered a loud cry and fell over; he went up to her, put his foot on\nher throat and swore that he would kill her, and in spite of her\nungovernable fury and invulnerability, she felt a little afraid. \"What\ndo you wish to do with me?\" she asked. \"What do you want of me?\" \"I wish\nto punish you,\" he replied proudly, \"for having carried away my wife,\nand you shall give her up to me or I will strangle you on the spot.\"\n\"Look towards the lake,\" she said, \"and see if I have the power to do\nso.\" The King turned in the direction towards which she pointed, and saw\nthe Queen and her daughter in the palace of crystal, which was floating\nlike a vessel, without oars or rudder, on the lake of quicksilver. He\nwas ready to die with mingled joy and sorrow; he called to them with all\nhis might, and they heard him, but how was he to reach them? While\nthinking over the means by which he might accomplish this, the Fairy\nLioness disappeared. He ran round and round the lake, but whenever the\npalace came close enough to him, on one side or the other, for him to\nspring upon it, it suddenly floated away again with terrible swiftness,\nand so his hopes were continually disappointed. The Queen, fearing he\nwould at length grow weary, called to him not to lose courage, that the\nFairy Lioness wanted to tire him out, but that true love knew how to\nface all difficulties. She and Moufette then stretched out their hands\ntowards him with imploring gestures. Seeing this, the King was filled\nwith renewed courage, and raising his voice, he said that he would\nrather pass the remainder of his life in this melancholy region than go\naway without them. He needed great patience, for no king on earth ever\nspent such a wretched time before. He had only the ground, covered with\nbriars and thorns, for his bed; his food consisted of wild fruits, more\nbitter than gall, and he was incessantly engaged in defending himself\nfrom the monsters of the lake.\n\nThree years passed in this manner, and the King could not flatter\nhimself that he had gained the least advantage; he was almost in\ndespair, and over and over again was tempted to throw himself in the\nlake, and he would certainly have done so if he could have thought that\nby such a deed he might alleviate the sufferings of the Queen and the\nPrincess. He was running one day as usual, first to one side of the lake\nthen to the other, when one of the most hideous of the dragons called\nhim, and said to him: \"If you will swear to me by your crown and\nsceptre, by your royal mantle, by your wife and child, to give me,\nwhenever I shall ask for it, a certain delicate morsel to eat, for which\nI have a taste, I will take you on my back, and I promise you that none\nof the monsters of this lake, who guard the palace, shall prevent us\nfrom carrying off the Queen and Princess Moufette.\"\n\n\"Ah! my beloved Dragon!\" cried the King, \"I swear to you, and to all the\nfamily of dragons, that I will give you your fill to eat of what you\nlike, and will for ever remain your humble servant.\" \"Do not make any\npromises,\" replied the Dragon, \"if you have any thought of not\nfulfilling them; for, in that case, misfortunes will fall upon you that\nyou will not forget as long as you live.\" The King renewed his\nprotestations; he was dying of impatience to get possession of his dear\nQueen. He mounted on the Dragon's back, as if it was the finest horse in\nthe world, but the other monsters now advanced to bar his passage. They\nfought together, nothing was to be heard but the sharp hissings of the\nserpents, nothing to be seen but fire, and sulphur, and saltpetre,\nfalling in every direction. At last the King reached the palace, but\nhere his efforts had to be renewed, for the entrances were defended by\nbats, owls, and ravens; however, the Dragon, with his claws, his teeth\nand tail, cut to pieces even the boldest of these. The Queen, on her\nside, who was looking on at this fierce encounter, kicked away pieces of\nthe wall, and armed herself with these to help her dear husband. They\nwere at last victorious; they ran into one another's arms, and the work\nof disenchantment was completed by a thunderbolt, which fell into the\nlake and dried it up.\n\nThe friendly Dragon had disappeared with all the other monsters, and the\nKing, by what means he could not guess, found himself again in his own\ncapital, seated, with his Queen and Moufette, in a magnificent\ndining-hall, with a table spread with exquisite meats in front of them.\nSuch joy and astonishment as theirs were unknown before. All their\nsubjects ran in to see the Queen and the young Princess, who, to add to\nthe wonder of it all, was so superbly dressed, that the eye could hardly\nbear to look upon her dazzling jewels.\n\nIt is easy to imagine the festivities that now went on at the castle;\nmasquerades, running at the ring, and tournaments attracted the greatest\nprinces in the world; but even more were they attracted by the bright\neyes of Moufette. Among those who were the handsomest and most\naccomplished in feats of arms, Prince Moufy everywhere was the most\nconspicuous. He was universally admired and applauded, and Moufette, who\nhitherto had been only in the company of dragons and serpents, did not\nwithhold her share of praise. No day passed but Prince Moufy showed her\nsome fresh attention, in the hope of pleasing her, for he loved her\ndeeply; and having offered himself as a suitor, he made known to the\nKing and Queen, that his principality was of a beauty and extent that\ndeserved their special attention.\n\nThe King replied that Moufette was at liberty to choose a husband, and\nthat he only wished to please her and make her happy. The Prince was\ndelighted with this answer, and having already become aware that he was\nnot indifferent to the Princess, offered her his hand. She assured him\nthat if he was not her husband, no other man should be, and Moufy,\novercome with joy, threw himself at her feet, and in affectionate terms\nbegged her to remember the promise she had given him. The Prince and\nPrincess were betrothed, and Prince Moufy then returned to his\nprincipality to make preparations for the marriage. Moufette shed many\ntears at his departure, for she was troubled with a presentiment of evil\nwhich she could not explain. The Queen, seeing that the Prince was also\novercome with sorrow, gave him the portrait of her daughter, and begged\nhim rather to lessen the magnificence of the preparations than to delay\nhis return. The Prince, only too ready to obey such a command, promised\nto comply with what would be for his own happiness.\n\nThe Princess occupied herself during his absence with her music, for she\nhad, in a few months, learnt to play well. One day, when she was in the\nQueen's room, the King rushed in, his face bathed in tears, and taking\nhis daughter in his arms: \"Alas, my child,\" he cried. \"Alas! wretched\nfather, unhappy King!\" He could say no more, for his voice was stifled\nwith sobs. The Queen and Princess, in great alarm, asked him what was\nthe matter, and at last he was able to tell them that a giant of an\nenormous height, who gave himself out to be an ambassador from the\nDragon of the lake, had just arrived; that in accordance with the\npromise, made by the King in return for the help he had received in\nfighting the monsters, the Dragon demanded him to give up the Princess,\nas he wished to make her into a pie for his dinner; the King added that\nhe had bound himself by solemn oaths to give him what he asked, and in\nthose days no one ever broke his word.\n\nWhen the Queen heard this dreadful news, she uttered piercing cries, and\nclasped her child to her breast. \"My life shall be taken,\" she said,\n\"before my daughter shall be delivered up to that monster; let him\nrather take our kingdom and all that we possess. Unnatural father! can\nyou possibly consent to such a cruel thing? What! my child made into a\npie! The thought of it is intolerable! Send me this terrible ambassador,\nmaybe the sight of my anguish may touch his heart.\"\n\nThe King made no reply, but went in search of the giant and brought him\nto the Queen, who threw herself at his feet. She and her daughter\nimplored him to have mercy upon them, and to persuade the Dragon to take\neverything they possessed, and to spare Moufette's life; but the giant\nreplied that the matter did not rest with him, and that the Dragon was\nso obstinate and so fond of good things, that all the powers combined\nwould not prevent him eating whatever he had taken into his head he\nwould like for a meal. He further advised them, as a friend, to consent\nwith a good grace, as otherwise greater evils might arise. At these\nwords the Queen fainted, and the Princess, had she not been obliged to\ngo to her mother's assistance, would have done the same.\n\nNo sooner was the sad news spread through the palace, than the whole\ntown knew it. Nothing was heard but weeping and wailing, for Moufette\nwas greatly beloved. The King could not make up his mind to give her to\nthe giant, and the giant, who had already waited some days, began to\ngrow impatient, and to utter terrible threats. The King and Queen,\nhowever, said to each other, \"What worse thing could happen to us? If\nthe Dragon of the lake were to come and devour us all we could not be\nmore distressed; if Moufette is put into a pie, we are lost.\"\n\nThe giant now told them that he had received a message from his master,\nand that if the Princess would agree to marry a nephew of his, the\nDragon would let her live; that the nephew was young and handsome; that,\nmoreover, he was a Prince, and that she would be able to live with him\nvery happily. This proposal somewhat lessened their grief; the Queen\nspoke to the Princess, but found her still more averse to this marriage\nthan to the thought of death. \"I cannot save my life by being\nunfaithful,\" said Moufette. \"You promised me to Prince Moufy, and I will\nmarry no one else; let me die; my death will ensure the peace of your\nlives.\" The King then came and endeavoured with all the tenderest of\nexpressions to persuade her; but nothing moved her, and finally it was\ndecided that she should be conducted to the summit of a mountain, and\nthere await the Dragon.\n\nEverything was prepared for this great sacrifice; nothing so mournful\nhad before been seen; nothing to be met anywhere but black garments, and\npale and horrified faces. Four hundred maidens of the highest rank,\ndressed in long white robes, and crowned with cypress, accompanied the\nPrincess, who was carried in an open litter of black velvet, that all\nmight look on this masterpiece of beauty. Her hair, tied with crape,\nhung over her shoulders, and she wore a crown of jasmine, mingled with a\nfew marigolds. The grief of the King and Queen, who followed, overcome\nby their deep sorrow, appeared the only thing that moved her. The giant,\narmed from head to foot, marched beside the litter, and looked with\nhungry eye at the Princess, as if anticipating his share of her when she\ncame to be eaten; the air resounded with sighs and sobs, and the road\nwas flooded with the tears of the onlookers.\n\n\"Ah! Frog, Frog,\" cried the Queen, \"you have indeed forsaken me! Alas!\nwhy did you give me help in that unhappy region, and now withhold it\nfrom me! Would that I had then died, I should not now be lamenting the\nloss of all my hopes, I should not now have the anguish of seeing my\ndear Moufette on the point of being devoured!\" The procession meanwhile\nwas slowly advancing, and at last reached the summit of the fatal\nmountain. Here the cries and lamentations were redoubled, nothing more\npiteous had before been heard. The giant ordered everyone to say\nfarewell and to retire, and they all obeyed him, for in those days,\npeople were very simple and submissive, and never sought for a remedy in\ntheir misfortunes.\n\nThe King and Queen, and all the Court, now ascended another mountain,\nwhence they could see all that happened to the Princess: and they had\nnot to wait long, before they saw a Dragon, half a league long, coming\nthrough the air. His body was so heavy that, notwithstanding his six\nlarge wings, he was hardly able to fly; he was covered with immense blue\nscales, and poisonous tongues of flame; his tail was twisted into as\nmany as fifty and a half coils; each of his claws was the size of a\nwindmill, and three rows of teeth, as long as those of an elephant,\ncould be seen inside his wide-open jaw. As the Dragon slowly made his\nway towards the mountain, the good, faithful Frog, mounted on the back\nof a hawk, flew rapidly to Prince Moufy. She wore her cap of roses, and\nalthough he was locked into his private room, she entered without a key,\nand said, \"What are you doing here, unhappy lover? You sit dreaming of\nMoufette's beauty, and at this very moment she is exposed to the most\nfrightful danger; here is a rose-leaf, by blowing\n\nupon it, I can change it into a superb horse, as you will see.\"\n\nThere immediately appeared a horse, green in colour, and with twelve\nhoofs and three heads, of which one emitted fire, another bomb-shells,\nand the third cannon-balls. She gave the Prince a sword, eight yards\nlong, and lighter than a feather. She clothed him with a single diamond,\nwhich he put on like a coat, and which, although as hard as a rock, was\nso pliable that he could move in it at his ease. \"Go,\" she said, \"run,\nfly to the rescue of her whom you love; the green horse I have given\nyou, will take you to her, and when you have delivered her, let her know\nthe share I have had in the matter.\"\n\n\"Generous fairy,\" cried the Prince, \"I cannot at this moment show you\nall my gratitude; but from henceforth, I am your faithful servitor.\"\n\nHe mounted the horse with the three heads, which instantly galloped off\non its twelve hoofs, and went at a greater rate than three of the best\nordinary horses, so that in a very little time the Prince reached the\nmountain, when he found his dear Princess all alone, and saw the Dragon\nslowly drawing near. The green horse immediately began to send forth\nfire, bomb-shells, and cannon-balls, which not a little astonished the\nmonster; he received twenty balls in his throat, and his scales were\nsomewhat damaged, and the bomb-shells put out one of his eyes. He grew\nfurious, and made as if to throw himself on the Prince; but his long\nsword was so finely-tempered, that he could use it as he liked,\nthrusting it in at times up to the hilt, and at others using it like a\nwhip. The Prince, on his side, would have suffered from the Dragon's\nclaws, had it not been for his diamond coat, which was impenetrable.\n\nMoufette had recognised her lover a long way off, for the diamond that\ncovered him was transparent and bright, and she was seized with mortal\nterror at the danger he was in. The King and Queen, however, were filled\nwith renewed hope, for it was such an unexpected thing to see a horse\nwith three heads and twelve hoofs, sending forth fire and flame, and a\nPrince in a diamond suit and armed with a formidable sword, arrive at\nsuch an opportune moment, and fight with so much valour. The King put\nhis hat on the top of his stick, and the Queen tied her handkerchief to\nthe end of another, as signals of encouragement to the Prince; and all\ntheir Court followed suit. As a fact, this was not necessary, for his\nown heart and the peril in which he saw Moufette, were sufficient to\nanimate his courage. And what efforts did he not make! the ground was\ncovered with stings, claws, horns, wings, and scales of the Dragon; the\nearth was coloured blue and green with the mingled blood of the Dragon\nand the horse. Five times the Prince fell to the ground, but each time\nhe rose again and leisurely mounted his horse, and then there were\ncannonades, and rushing of flames, and explosions, such as were never\nheard or seen before. The Dragon's strength at last gave way, and he\nfell; the Prince gave him a final blow, and nobody could believe their\neyes, when from this last great wound, there stepped forth a handsome\nand charming prince, in a coat of blue and gold velvet, embroidered with\npearls, while on his head he wore a little Grecian helmet, shaded with\nwhite feathers. He rushed, his arms outspread, towards Prince Moufy, and\nembraced him. \"What do I not owe you, valiant liberator?\" he cried. \"You\nhave delivered me from a worse prison than ever before enclosed a king;\nI have languished there since, sixteen years ago, the Fairy Lioness\ncondemned me to it; and, such was her power, that she would have forced\nme, against my will, to devour that adorable Princess; lead me to her\nfeet, that I may explain to her my misfortune.\"\n\nPrince Moufy, surprised and delighted at this extraordinary termination\nto his adventure, showered civilities on the newly-found Prince. They\nhastened to rejoin Moufette, who thanked Heaven a thousand times for her\nunhoped-for happiness. The King, the Queen, and all the Court, were\nalready with her; everybody spoke at once, nobody listened to anybody\nelse, and they all shed nearly as many tears of joy as they had before\nof grief. Finally, that nothing might be wanting to complete their\nrejoicing, the good Frog appeared, flying through the air on her hawk,\nwhich had little bells of gold on its feet. When the tinkle, tinkle, of\nthese was heard, everyone looked up, and saw the cap of roses shining\nlike the sun, and the Frog as beautiful as the dawn.\n\nThe Queen ran towards her, and took her by one of her little paws, and\nin the same moment, the wise Frog became a great Queen, with a charming\ncountenance. \"I come,\" she cried, \"to crown the faithful Moufette, who\npreferred to risk her life, rather than be untrue to Prince Moufy.\" She\nthereupon took two myrtle wreaths, and placed them on the heads of the\nlovers, and giving three taps with her wand, all the Dragon's bones\nformed themselves into a triumphal arch, in commemoration of the great\nevent which had just taken place.\n\nThey all wended their way back to the town, singing wedding songs, as\ngaily as they had before mournfully bewailed the sacrifice of the\nPrincess. The marriage took place the following day, and the joy with\nwhich it was celebrated may be imagined.\n\n\n\n\nPRINCESS ROSETTE\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a King and Queen who had two handsome boys;\nso well-fed and hearty were they, that they grew like the day.\n\nWhenever the Queen had a child, she sent for the fairies, that she might\nlearn from them what would be its future lot. After a while she had a\nlittle daughter, who was so beautiful, that no one could see her without\nloving her. The fairies came as usual, and the Queen having feasted\nthem, said to them as they were going away, \"Do not forget that good\ncustom of yours, but tell me what will happen to Rosette\"--for this was\nthe name of the little Princess. The fairies answered her that they had\nleft their divining-books at home, and that they would come again to see\nher. \"Ah!\" said the Queen, \"that bodes no good, I fear; you do not wish\nto distress me by foretelling evil; but, I pray you, let me know the\nworst, and hide nothing from me.\" The fairies continued to make excuses,\nbut the Queen only became more anxious to know the truth. At last the\nchief among them said to her, \"We fear, madam, that Rosette will be the\ncause of a great misfortune befalling her brothers; that they may even\nlose their lives on her account. This is all that we can tell you of\nthe fate of this sweet little Princess, and we are grieved to have\nnothing better to say about her.\" The fairies took their departure, and\nthe Queen was very sorrowful, so sorrowful that the King saw by her face\nthat she was in trouble. He asked her what was the matter. She told him\nshe had gone too near the fire and accidentally burnt all the flax that\nwas on her distaff. \"Is that all?\" replied the King, and he went up to\nhis store-room and brought her down more flax than she could spin in a\nhundred years.\n\nBut the Queen was still very sorrowful, and the King again asked her\nwhat was the matter. She told him that she had been down to the river\nand had let one of her green satin slippers fall into the water. \"Is\nthat all?\" replied the King, and he sent for all the shoemakers in the\nkingdom, and made the Queen a present of ten thousand green satin\nslippers.\n\nStill the Queen was no less sorrowful; the King asked her once more what\nwas the matter. She told him that, being hungry, she had eaten hastily,\nand had swallowed her wedding-ring. The King knew that she was not\nspeaking the truth, for he had himself put away the ring, and he\nreplied, \"My dear wife, you are not speaking the truth; here is your\nring, which I have kept in my purse.\" The Queen was put out of\ncountenance at being caught telling a lie--for there is nothing in the\nworld so ugly--and she saw that the King was vexed, so she told him what\nthe fairies had predicted about little Rosette, and begged him to tell\nher if he could think of any remedy. The King was greatly troubled, so\nmuch so, that at last he said to the Queen, \"I see no way of saving our\ntwo boys, except by putting the little girl to death, while she is still\nin her swaddling clothes.\" But the Queen cried that she would rather\nsuffer death herself, that she would never consent to so cruel a deed,\nand that the King must try and think of some other remedy. The King and\nQueen could think of nothing else, and while thus pondering over the\nmatter, the Queen was told that in a large wood near the town, there\nlived an old hermit, who made his home in the trunk of a tree, whom\npeople went from far and near to consult.\n\n\"It is to him I must go,\" said the Queen; \"the fairies told me the evil,\nbut they forgot to tell me the remedy.\"\n\nShe started early in the morning, mounted on her little white mule, that\nwas shod with gold, and accompanied by two of her maids of honour, who\neach rode a pretty horse. When they were near the wood they dismounted\nout of respect, and made their way to the tree where the hermit lived.\nHe did not much care for the visits of women, but when he saw that it\nwas the Queen approaching, he said, \"Welcome! what would you ask of me?\"\nShe related to him what the fairies had said about Rosette, and asked\nhim to advise her what to do. He told her that the Princess must be shut\nup in a tower, and not be allowed to leave it as long as she lived. The\nQueen thanked him, and returned and told everything to the King. The\nKing immediately gave orders for a large tower to be built as quickly as\npossible. In it he placed his daughter, but that she might not feel\nlonely and depressed, he, and the Queen, and her two brothers, went to\nsee her every day. The elder of these was called the big Prince, and the\nyounger, the little Prince. They loved their sister passionately, for\nshe was the most beautiful and graceful Princess ever seen, and the\nleast glance of hers was worth more than a hundred gold pieces. When she\nwas fifteen years old, the big Prince said to the King, \"Father, my\nsister is old enough to be married; shall we not soon have a wedding?\"\nThe little Prince said the same to the Queen, but their Majesties\nlaughed and changed the subject, and made no answer about the marriage.\n\nNow, it happened that the King and Queen both fell very ill, and died\nwithin a few days of one another. There was great mourning; everyone\nwore black, and all the bells were tolled. Rosette was inconsolable at\nthe loss of her good mother.\n\nAs soon as the funeral was over, the dukes and marquises of the kingdom\nplaced the big Prince on a throne made of gold and diamonds; he wore a\nsplendid crown on his head, and robes of violet velvet embroidered with\nsuns and moons. Then the whole Court cried out, \"Long live the King!\"\nand now on all sides there was nothing but rejoicing.\n\nThen the young King and his brother said one to another, \"Now that we\nare the masters, we will release our sister from the tower, where she\nhas been shut up for such a long and dreary time.\" They had only to pass\nthrough the garden to reach the tower, which stood in one corner of it,\nand had been built as high as was possible, for the late King and Queen\nhad intended her to remain there always. Rosette was embroidering a\nbeautiful dress on a frame in front of her, when she saw her brothers\nenter. She rose, and taking the King's hand, said, \"Good-day, sire, you\nare now King, and I am your humble subject; I pray you to release me\nfrom this tower, where I lead a melancholy life,\" and with this, she\nburst into tears. The King embraced her, and begged her not to weep, for\nhe was come, he said, to take her from the tower, and to conduct her to\na beautiful castle. The Prince had his pockets full of sweetmeats, which\nhe gave Rosette. \"Come,\" he said, \"let us get away from this wretched\nplace; the King will soon find you a husband; do not be unhappy any\nlonger.\"\n\nWhen Rosette saw the beautiful garden, full of flowers, and fruits, and\nfountains, she was so overcome with astonishment, that she stood\nspeechless, for she had never seen anything of the kind before. She\nlooked around her, she went first here, then there, she picked the fruit\noff the trees, and gathered flowers from the beds; while her little dog,\nFretillon, who was as green as a parrot, kept on running before her,\nsaying, yap, yap, yap! and jumping and cutting a thousand capers, and\neverybody was amused at his ways. Presently he ran into a little wood,\nwhither the Princess followed him, and here her wonder was even greater\nthan before, when she saw a large peacock spreading out its tail. She\nthought it so beautiful, so very beautiful, that she could not take her\neyes off it. The King and the Prince now joined her, and asked her what\ndelighted her so much. She pointed to the peacock, and asked them what\nit was. They told her it was a bird, which was sometimes eaten. \"What!\"\nshe cried, \"dare to kill and eat a beautiful bird like that! I tell you,\nthat I will marry no one but the King of the Peacocks, and when I am\ntheir Queen I shall not allow anybody to eat them.\" The astonishment of\nthe King cannot be described. \"But, dear sister,\" said he, \"where would\nyou have us go to find the King of the Peacocks?\" \"Whither you please,\nsire; but him, and him alone, will I marry.\"\n\nHaving come to this decision, she was now conducted by her brothers to\ntheir castle; the peacock had to be brought and put into her room, so\nfond was she of it. All the Court ladies who had not before seen Rosette\nnow hastened to greet her, and pay their respects to her. Some brought\npreserves with them, some sugar, and others dresses of woven gold,\nbeautiful ribbons, dolls, embroidered shoes, pearls, and diamonds.\nEveryone did their best to entertain her, and she was so well brought\nup, so courteous, kissing their hands, curtseying when anything\nbeautiful was given to her, that there was not a lord or lady who did\nnot leave her presence gratified and charmed. While she was thus\noccupied, the King and the Prince were turning over in their minds how\nthey should find the King of the Peacocks, if there was such a person in\nthe world to be found. They decided that they would have Rosette's\nportrait painted; and when completed it was so life-like, that only\nspeech was wanting. Then they said to her, \"Since you will marry no one\nbut the King of the Peacocks, we are going together to look for him, and\nwill traverse the whole world to try and find him for you. If we find\nhim, we shall be very glad. Meanwhile take care of our kingdom until we\nreturn.\"\n\nRosette thanked them for all the trouble they were taking; she promised\nto govern the kingdom well, and said that, during their absence, her\nonly pleasure would be in looking at the peacock, and making her little\ndog dance. They all three cried when they said good-bye to each other.\n\nSo the two Princes started on their long journey, and they asked\neveryone whom they met, \"Do you know the King of the Peacocks?\" but the\nreply was always the same, \"No, we do not.\" Each time they passed on and\nwent further, and in this way they travelled so very, very far, that no\none had ever been so far before.\n\nThey came to the kingdom of the cock-chafers; and these were in such\nnumbers, and made such a loud buzzing, that the King feared he should\nbecome deaf. He asked one of them, who appeared to him to have the most\nintelligence, whether he knew where the King of the Peacocks was to be\nfound. \"Sire,\" replied the cock-chafer, \"his kingdom lies thirty\nthousand leagues from here; you have chosen the longest way to reach\nit.\" \"And how do you know that?\" asked the King. \"Because,\" answered the\ncock-chafer, \"we know you very well, for every year we spend two or\nthree months in your gardens.\" Whereupon the King and his brother\nembraced the cock-chafer, and they went off arm in arm to dine together,\nand the two strangers admired all the curiosities of that new country,\nwhere the smallest leaf of a tree was worth a gold piece. After that,\nthey continued their journey, and having been directed along the right\nway, they were not long in reaching its close. On their arrival, they\nfound all the trees laden with peacocks, and, indeed, there were\npeacocks everywhere, so that they could be heard talking and screaming\ntwo leagues off.\n\nThe King said to his brother \"If the King of the Peacocks is a peacock\nhimself, how can our sister marry him? it would be folly to consent to\nsuch a thing, and it would be a fine thing for us to have little\npeacocks for nephews.\" The Prince was equally disturbed at the thought.\n\"It is an unhappy fancy she has taken into her head,\" he said. \"I cannot\nthink what led her to imagine that there was such a person in the world\nas the King of the Peacocks.\"\n\nWhen they entered the town, they saw that it was full of men and women,\nand that they all wore clothes made of peacocks' feathers, and that\nthese were evidently considered fine things, for every place was covered\nwith them. They met the King, who was driving in a beautiful little\ncarriage of gold, studded with diamonds, and drawn by twelve peacocks at\nfull gallop. This King of the Peacocks was so handsome, that the King\nand the Prince were delighted; he had long, light, curly hair, fair\ncomplexion, and wore a crown of peacocks' feathers. Directly he saw\nthem, he guessed, seeing that they wore a different costume to the\npeople of the country, that they were strangers, and wishing to\nascertain if this was so, he ordered his carriage to stop, and sent for\nthem.\n\n[Illustration: '_Oh, you are jesting;_' _replied the King of the\nPeacocks._ _Princess Rosette_]\n\nThe King and the Prince advanced, bowing low, and said, \"Sire, we have\ncome from afar, to show you a portrait.\" They drew forth Rosette's\nportrait and showed it to him. After gazing at it a while, the King of\nthe Peacocks said, \"I can scarcely believe that there is so beautiful a\nmaiden in the whole world.\" \"She is a thousand times more beautiful,\"\nsaid the King. \"You are jesting,\" replied the King of the Peacocks.\n\"Sire,\" rejoined the Prince, \"here is my brother, who is a King, like\nyourself; he is called King, and my name is Prince; our sister, of whom\nthis is the portrait, is the Princess Rosette. We have come to ask if\nyou will marry her; she is good and beautiful, and we will give her, as\ndower, a bushel of golden crowns.\" \"It is well,\" said the King. \"I will\ngladly marry her; she shall want for nothing, and I shall love her\ngreatly; but I require that she shall be as beautiful as her portrait,\nand if she is in the smallest degree less so, I shall make you pay for\nit with your lives.\" \"We consent willingly,\" said both Rosette's\nbrothers. \"You consent?\" added the King. \"You will go to prison then,\nand remain there until the Princess arrives.\" The Princes made no\ndifficulty about this, for they knew well that Rosette was more\nbeautiful than her portrait. They were well looked after while in\nprison, and were well served with all they required, and the King often\nwent to see them. He kept Rosette's portrait in his room, and could\nscarcely rest day or night for looking at it. As the King and his\nbrother could not go to her themselves, they wrote to Rosette, telling\nher to pack up as quickly as possible, and to start without delay, as\nthe King of the Peacocks was awaiting her. They did not tell her that\nthey were prisoners, for fear of causing her uneasiness.\n\nThe Princess scarcely knew how to contain herself with joy, when she\nreceived this message. She told everybody that the King of the Peacocks\nhad been found, and that he wanted to marry her. Bonfires were lit, and\nguns fired, and quantities of sweetmeats and sugar were eaten; everyone\nwho came to see the Princess, during the three days before her\ndeparture, was given bread-and-butter and jam, rolled wafers, and negus.\nAfter having thus dispensed hospitality to her visitors, she presented\nher beautiful dolls to her best friends, and handed over the government\nto the wisest elders of the town, begging them to look well after\neverything, to spend little, and to save up money for the King on his\nreturn. She also prayed them to take care of her peacock, for with her\nshe only took her nurse, and her foster-sister, and her little green\ndog, Fretillon. They set out in a boat on the sea, carrying with them\nthe bushel of golden crowns, and sufficient clothes for two changes a\nday for ten years. They made merry on their voyage, laughing and\nsinging, and the nurse kept on asking the boatman if they were nearing\nthe Kingdom of the Peacocks; for a long time, all he said was, \"No, no,\nnot yet.\" Then at last, when she asked again, \"Are we anywhere near it\nnow?\" he answered, \"We shall soon be there, very soon.\" Once more she\nsaid, \"Are we near, are we anywhere near it now?\" and he said, \"Yes, we\nare now within reach of shore.\" On hearing this, the nurse went to the\nend of the boat, and sitting down beside the boatman, said to him, \"If\nyou like, you can be rich for the remainder of your life.\" He replied,\n\"I should like nothing better.\" She continued, \"If you like, you can\nearn good money.\" \"That would suit me very well,\" he answered. \"Well,\"\nshe went on, \"then to-night, when the Princess is asleep, you must help\nme throw her into the sea. After she is drowned, I will dress my\ndaughter in her fine clothes, and we will take her to the King of the\nPeacocks, who will only be too pleased to marry her; and as a reward to\nyou, we will give you as many diamonds as you care to possess.\" The\nboatman was very much astonished at this proposal; he told the nurse\nthat it was a pity to drown such a pretty Princess, and that he felt\ncompassion for her; but the nurse fetched a bottle of wine and made him\ndrink so much, that he had no longer any power to refuse.\n\nNight having come, the Princess went to bed as usual, her little\nFretillon lying at her feet, not even stirring one of his paws. Rosette\nslept soundly, but the wicked nurse kept awake, and went presently to\nfetch the boatman. She took him into the Princess's room, and together\nthey lifted her up, feather bed, mattress, sheets, coverlet, and all,\nand threw them into the sea, the Princess all the while so fast\nasleep, that she never woke. But fortunately, her bed was made of\nPhoenix-feathers, which are extremely rare, and have the property of\nalways floating on water; so that she was carried along in her bed as in\na boat. The water, however, began gradually first to wet her feather\nbed, then her mattress, and Rosette began to feel uncomfortable, and\nturned from side to side, and then Fretillon woke up. He had a capital\nnose, and when he smelt the soles and cod-fish so near, he started\nbarking at them, and this awoke all the other fish, who began swimming\nabout. The bigger ones ran against the Princess's bed, which, not being\nattached to anything, span round and round like a whirligig. Rosette\ncould not make out what was happening. \"Is our boat having a dance on\nthe water?\" she said. \"I am not accustomed to feeling so uneasy as I am\nto-night,\" and all the while Fretillon continued barking, and going on\nas if he was out of his mind. The wicked nurse and the boatman heard him\nfrom afar, and said: \"There's that funny little beast drinking our\nhealths with his mistress. Let us make haste to land,\" for they were now\njust opposite the town of the King of the Peacocks.\n\nHe had sent down a hundred chariots to the landing-place; they were\ndrawn by all kinds of rare animals, lions, bears, stags, wolves, horses,\noxen, asses, eagles, and peacocks: and the chariot which was intended\nfor the Princess was harnessed with six blue monkeys, that could jump,\ndance on the tight rope, and do endless clever tricks; they had\nbeautiful trappings of crimson velvet, overlaid with plates of gold.\nSixty young maids of honour were also in attendance, who had been chosen\nby the King for the amusement of the Princess; they were dressed in all\nsorts of colours, and gold and silver were the least precious of their\nadornments.\n\nThe nurse had taken great pains to dress her daughter finely; she had\nput on her Rosette's best robe, and decked her all over from head to\nfoot with the Princess's diamonds; but with all this, she was still as\nugly as an ape, with greasy black hair, crooked eyes, bowed legs, and a\nhump on her back; and, added to these deformities, she was besides of a\ndisagreeable and sulky temper, and was always grumbling.\n\nWhen the people saw her get out of the boat, they were so taken aback by\nher appearance, that they could not utter a sound. \"What is the meaning\nof this?\" she said. \"Are you all asleep? Be off, and bring me something\nto eat! A nice set of beggars you are! I will have you all hanged.\" When\nthey heard this, they murmured, \"What an ugly creature! and she is as\nwicked as she is ugly! A nice wife for our King; well, we are not\nsurprised! but it was scarcely worth the trouble to bring her from the\nother side of the world.\" Meanwhile she still behaved as if she were\nalready mistress of all and everything, and for no reason at all, boxed\ntheir ears, or gave a blow with her fist to everybody in turn.\n\nAs her escort was a very large one, the procession moved slowly, and she\nsat up in her chariot like a queen; but all the peacocks, who had\nstationed themselves on the trees, so as to salute her as she passed,\nand who had been prepared to shout, \"Long live the beautiful Queen\nRosette!\" could only call out, \"Fie, fie, how ugly she is!\" as soon as\nthey caught sight of her. She was so enraged at this, that she called to\nher guards, \"Kill those rascally peacocks who are insulting me.\" But the\npeacocks quickly flew away, and only laughed at her.\n\nThe treacherous boatman, seeing and hearing all this, said in a low\nvoice to the nurse, \"There is something wrong, good mother; your\ndaughter should have been better looking.\" She answered, \"Hold your\ntongue, stupid, or you will bring us into trouble.\"\n\nThe King had word brought him that the Princess was approaching. \"Well,\"\nhe said, \"have her brothers, I wonder, told me the truth? Is she more\nbeautiful than her portrait?\" \"Sire,\" said those near him, \"there will\nbe nothing to wish for, if she is as beautiful.\" \"You are right,\"\nreplied the King, \"I shall be well content with that. Come, let us go\nand see her,\" for he knew by the hubbub in the courtyard that she had\narrived. He could not distinguish anything that was said, except, \"Fie,\nfie, how ugly she is!\" and he imagined that the people were calling out\nabout some little dwarf or animal that she had brought with her, for it\nnever entered his head that the words were applied to the Princess\nherself.\n\nRosette's portrait was carried uncovered, at the top of a long pole,\nand the King walked after it in solemn state, with all his nobles and\nhis peacocks, followed by ambassadors from various kingdoms. The King of\nthe Peacocks was very impatient to see his dear Rosette; but when he did\nsee her--well, he very nearly died on the spot. He flew into a violent\nrage, he tore his clothes, he would not go near her, he felt quite\nafraid of her. \"What!\" he cried, \"have those two villains I have in\nprison had the boldness and impudence to make a laughing-stock of me,\nand to propose my marrying such a fright as that? They shall both be\nkilled; and let that insolent woman, and the nurse, and the man who is\nwith them, be immediately carried to the dungeon of my great tower, and\nthere kept.\" While this was going on, the King and his brother, who knew\nthat his sister was expected, had put on their bravest apparel ready to\nreceive her; but instead of seeing their prison door open and being set\nat liberty, as they had hoped, the gaoler came with a body of soldiers\nand made them go down into a dark cellar, full of horrible reptiles, and\nwhere the water was up to their necks; no one was ever more surprised or\ndistressed than they were. \"Alas!\" they said to one another, \"this is\nindeed a melancholy marriage feast for us! What can have happened that\nwe should be so ill-treated?\" They did not know what in the world to\nthink, except that they were to be killed, and they were very sorrowful\nabout this. Three days passed, and no news reached them of any kind. At\nthe end of that time, the King of the Peacocks came, and began calling\nout insulting things to them through a hole in the wall. \"You called\nyourselves King and Prince, that I might fall into your trap, and engage\nmyself to marry your sister; but you are nothing better than two\nbeggars, who are not worth the water you drink. I am going to bring you\nbefore the judges, who will soon pass their verdict upon you; the rope\nto hang you with is already being made.\" \"King of the Peacocks,\" replied\nthe King, angrily, \"do not act too rashly in this matter, or you may\nrepent it. I am a King as well as you, and I have a fine kingdom, and\nrich clothing, and crowns, to say nothing of good gold pieces. You must\nbe joking to talk like this of hanging us; have we stolen anything from\nyou?\"\n\nWhen the King heard him speak so boldly, he did not know what to think,\nand he felt half inclined to let them and their sister go without\nputting them to death; but his chief adviser, who was an arrant\nflatterer, dissuaded him from this, telling him that if he did not\nrevenge the insult that had been put upon him, all the world would make\nfun of him, and look upon him as nothing better than a miserable little\nKing worth a few coppers a day. The King thereupon swore that he would\nnever forgive them, and ordered them to be brought to trial at once.\nThis did not take long; the judges had only to look at the real\nRosette's portrait and then at the Princess who had arrived, and,\nwithout hesitation, they ordered the prisoners' heads to be cut off as a\npunishment for having lied to the King, since they had promised him a\nbeautiful Princess, and had only given him an ugly peasant girl. They\nrepaired with great ceremony to the prison to read this sentence to\nthem; but the prisoners declared that they had not lied, that their\nsister was a Princess, and more beautiful than the day; that there must\nbe something under this which they did not understand, and they asked\nfor a respite of seven days, as before that time had expired their\ninnocence might have been established. The King of the Peacocks, who had\nworked himself up to a high pitch of anger, could with great difficulty\nbe induced to accord them this grace, but at last he consented.\n\nWhile these things were going on at the Court, we must say something\nabout poor Rosette. Both she and Fretillon were very much astonished,\nwhen daylight came, to find themselves in the middle of the sea, without\na boat, and far from all help. She began to cry, and cried so piteously,\nthat even the fishes had compassion on her: she did not know what to do,\nnor what would become of her. \"There is no doubt,\" she said, \"that the\nKing of the Peacocks ordered me to be thrown into the sea, having\nrepented his promise of marrying me, and to get rid of me quietly he has\nhad me drowned. What a strange man!\" she continued, \"for I should have\nloved him so much! We should have been so happy together,\" and with that\nshe burst out crying afresh, for she could not help still loving him.\nShe remained floating about on the sea for two days, wet to the skin,\nand almost dead with cold; she was so benumbed by it, that if it had not\nbeen for little Fretillon, who lay beside her and kept a little warmth\nin her, she could not have survived. She was famished with hunger, and\nseeing the oysters in their shells, she took as many of these as she\nwanted and ate them; Fretillon did the same, to keep himself alive,\nalthough he did not like such food. Rosette became still more alarmed\nwhen the night set in. \"Fretillon,\" she said, \"keep on barking, to\nfrighten away the soles, for fear they should eat us.\" So Fretillon\nbarked all night, and when the morning came, the Princess was floating\nnear the shore. Close to the sea at this spot, there lived a good old\nman; he was poor, and did not care for the things of the world, and no\none ever visited him in his little hut. He was very much surprised when\nheard Fretillon barking, for no dogs ever came in that direction; he\nthought some travellers must have lost their way, and went out with the\nkind intention of putting them on the right road again. All at once he\ncaught sight of the Princess and Fretillon floating on the sea, and the\nPrincess, seeing him, stretched out her arms to him, crying out, \"Good\nman, save me, or I shall perish; I have been in the water like this for\ntwo days.\" When he heard her speak so sorrowfully, he had great pity on\nher, and went back into his hut to fetch a long hook; he waded into the\nwater up to his neck, and once or twice narrowly escaped drowning. At\nlast, however, he succeeded in dragging the bed on to the shore. Rosette\nand Fretillon were overjoyed to find themselves again on dry ground; and\nwere full of gratitude to the kind old man. Rosette wrapped herself in\nher coverlet, and walked bare-footed into the hut, where the old man lit\na little fire of dry straw, and took one of his dead wife's best dresses\nout of a trunk, with some stockings and shoes, and gave them to the\nPrincess. Dressed in her peasant's attire, she looked as beautiful as\nthe day, and Fretillon capered round her and made her laugh. The old man\nguessed that Rosette was some great lady, for her bed was embroidered\nwith gold and silver, and her mattress was of satin. He begged her to\ntell him her story, promising not to repeat what she told him if she so\nwished. So she related to him all that had befallen her, crying bitterly\nthe while, for she still thought that it was the King of the Peacocks\nwho had ordered her to be drowned.\n\n\"What shall we do, my daughter?\" said the old man. \"You are a Princess\nand accustomed to the best of everything, and I have but poor fare to\noffer, black bread and radishes; but if you will let me, I will go and\ntell the King of the Peacocks that you are here; if he had once seen\nyou, he would assuredly marry you.\" \"Alas! he is a wicked man,\" said\nRosette; \"he would only put me to death; but if you can lend me a little\nbasket, I will tie it round Fretillon's neck, and he will have very bad\nluck, if he does not manage to bring back some food.\"\n\nThe old man gave her a basket, which she fastened to Fretillon's neck,\nand then said, \"Go to the best kitchen in the town, and bring me back\nwhat you find in the saucepan.\" Fretillon ran off to the town, and as\nthere was no better kitchen than that of the King, he went in, uncovered\nthe saucepan, and cleverly carried off all that was in it; then he\nreturned to the hut. Rosette said to him, \"Go back and take whatever you\ncan find of the best in the larder.\" Fretillon went back to the King's\nlarder, and took white bread, wine, and all sorts of fruits and\nsweetmeats; he was so laden that he could only just manage to carry the\nthings home.\n\nWhen the King of the Peacocks' dinner hour arrived, there was nothing\nfor him either in the saucepan or in the larder; his attendants looked\naskance at one another, and the King was in a terrible rage. \"It seems,\nthen, that I am to have no dinner; but see that the spit is put before\nthe fire, and let me have some good roast meat this evening.\" The\nevening came, and the Princess said to Fretillon, \"Go to the best\nkitchen in the town and bring me a joint of good roast meat.\" Fretillon\nobeyed, and knowing no better kitchen than that of the King, he went\nsoftly in, while the cooks' backs were turned, took the meat, which was\nof the best kind, from the spit, and carried it back in his basket to\nthe Princess. She sent him back without delay to the larder, and he\ncarried off all the preserves and sweetmeats that had been prepared for\nthe King.\n\nThe King, having had no dinner, was very hungry, and ordered supper to\nbe served early, but no supper was forthcoming; enraged beyond words, he\nwas forced to go supperless to bed.\n\nThe same thing happened the following day, both as to dinner and supper;\nso that the King, for three days, was without meat or drink, for every\ntime he sat down to table, it was found that the meal that had been\nprepared had been stolen. His chief adviser, fearing for the life of the\nKing, hid himself in the corner of the kitchen to watch; he kept his\neyes on the saucepan, that was boiling over the fire, and what was his\nsurprise to see enter a little green dog, with one ear, that uncovered\nthe pot, and put the meat in its basket. He followed it to see where it\nwould go; he saw it leave the town, and still following, came to the old\nman's hut. Then he went and told the King that it was to a poor\npeasant's home that the food was carried morning and evening. The King\nwas greatly astonished, and ordered more inquiries to be made. His chief\nadviser, anxious for favour, decided to go himself, taking with him a\nbody of archers. They found the old man and Rosette at dinner, eating\nthe meat that had been stolen from the King's kitchen, and they seized\nthem, and bound them with cords, taking Fretillon prisoner at the same\ntime.\n\nThey brought word to the King that the delinquents had been captured,\nand he replied, \"To-morrow, the last day of reprieve for my two insolent\nprisoners will expire; they and these thieves shall die together.\" He\nthen went into his court of justice. The old man threw himself on his\nknees before him, and begged to be allowed to tell him everything. As he\nwas speaking, the King looked towards the beautiful Princess, and his\nheart was touched when he saw her crying. When, therefore, the old man\nsaid that she was the Princess Rosette who had been thrown into the\nwater, in spite of the weak condition he was in from having starved for\nso long, he gave three bounds of joy, ran and embraced her, and untied\nher cords, declaring the while that he loved her with all his heart.\n\nThey at once went to find the Princes, who thought they were going to\nbe put to death, and came forward in great dejection and hanging their\nheads; the nurse and her daughter were brought in at the same time. The\nbrothers and sister recognised one another, as soon as they were brought\nface to face, and Rosette threw herself on her brothers' necks. The\nnurse and her daughter, and the boatman, begged on their knees for\nmercy, and the universal rejoicing and their own joy were so great, that\nthe King and the Princess pardoned them, and gave the good old man a\nhandsome reward, and from that time he continued to live in the palace.\n\nFinally, the King of the Peacocks did all in his power to atone for his\nconduct to the King and his brother, expressing the deepest regret at\nhaving treated them so badly. The nurse restored to Rosette all her\nbeautiful clothes and the bushel of golden crowns, and the wedding\nfestivities lasted a fortnight. Everyone was happy down to Fretillon,\nwho ate nothing but partridge wings for the rest of his life.\n\n\nTHE END\n\n\n_Colston & Coy. Limited, Printers, Edinburgh._\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's Note:\n\nPunctuation has been standardised. Changes to the original publication\nhave been made as follows:\n\n    Page 64\n    as he was entirly governed by _changed to_\n    as he was entirely governed by\n\n    Page 70\n    your are!\" said she to them, _changed to_\n    you are!\" said she to them,\n\n    Page 110\n    they would he obliged to go and _changed to_\n    they would be obliged to go and\n\n    Page 115\n    withdrew, and the merchant said ro _changed to_\n    withdrew, and the merchant said to\n\n    Page 124\n    reassurred, for the Beast, after _changed to_\n    reassured, for the Beast, after\n\n    Page 148\n    on a piece of rag; for she possesed _changed to_\n    on a piece of rag; for she possessed\n\n    Page 151\n    of the room. The The King and _changed to_\n    of the room. The King and\n\n    Page 163\n    windwill, and three rows of teeth _changed to_\n    windmill, and three rows of teeth\n\n    Page 191\n    said that she was the Prrincess Rosette _changed to_\n    said that she was the Princess Rosette","title":"Tales of Passed Times","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":39856}