{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_72332/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_72332","id":"gutenberg_72332","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/72332","summary":null,"tags":["Category: French Literature","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Fairy tales"],"text":"THE LUCK OF THE BEAN-ROWS\n\n               A FAIRY TALE TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF\n\n                             CHARLES NODIER\n\n                            _Illustrated by_\n\n                           CLAUD LOVAT FRASER\n\n[Illustration: [Boy]]\n\n                                 LONDON\n\n                            DANIEL O\u2019CONNOR\n\n                       90 GREAT RUSSELL ST., W.C.\n\n[Illustration: [Princess]]\n\n[Illustration: [House]]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: [Elderly couple]]\n\nOnce upon a time\nthere was a man and his wife who were poor and very old. They had never\nhad any children, and this was a great trouble to them, for they foresaw\nthat in a few years more they would not be able to grow their beans and\ntake them to market.\n\nOne day while they were weeding in their field (that with a little cabin\nwas all they possessed\u2014I wish _I_ owned as much!)\u2014one day, I say, while\nthey were getting rid of the weeds the old woman spied in a corner,\nwhere they grew thickest, a small bundle very carefully tied up; and\nwhat should she find in it but a lovely boy, eight or ten months old to\nlook at, but quite two years in intelligence! He had been weaned; at all\nevents he needed no pressing to partake of boiled beans, which he raised\nto his mouth very prettily.\n\n[Illustration: [Woman and boy]]\n\nOn hearing his wife\u2019s cries of surprise, the old man hurried from the\nend of the field; and when he too had gazed at the beautiful child God\nhad given them these old people embraced each other with tears of joy,\nand then returned quickly to their cabin lest the falling dew should\nhurt their boy. When they were snug in the chimney corner it was a fresh\ndelight to them to see the little fellow reach out his hands to them,\nlaughing winsomely, and calling them _mamma_ and _pappa_, as though he\nhad known no other father or mother.\n\nThe old man took him on his knee and danced him gently up and down, in\n\u201cthe way the ladies ride in the Park,\u201d and said all sorts of droll\nthings to amuse him; and the child responded in his own prattling\nfashion, for who would like to seem backward in such jolly talk?\n\n[Illustration: [Man and boy]]\n\nMeanwhile the old woman lit up the house with a fire of dry bean pods,\nwhich gladdened the little body of the newcomer, and prepared an\nexcellent bean-pap which a spoonful of honey made delicious eating. Then\nshe laid him to sleep in his fine white night clothes in the best bed of\nbean-chaff in the house; for these poor folk knew nothing of\nfeather-beds and eider-downs. When he was fast asleep, \u201cThere is one\nthing that bothers me,\u201d said the old man to his wife, \u201cand that is what\nwe are to call this bonny boy, for we know neither his parents nor where\nhe comes from.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: [Bed]]\n\n\u201cWe must call him,\u201d said the old woman, for though she was but a simple\npeasant she was quickwitted, \u201cThe Luck of the Bean-rows, for it was in\nour bean field he came to us, the best of luck, to comfort us in our old\nage.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere could not be a better name,\u201d the old man agreed.\n\nIt would make the story too long to tell what happened in the days and\nin all the years that followed; it is enough to know that the old people\nkept getting older and older, while one could almost see Luck of the\nBean-rows putting on strength and good looks. Not that he was mighty of\nhis inches, for at twelve he was only two and a half feet, and when he\nwas at work in the bean field, of which he was very fond, you could\nhardly have seen him from the road, but his small figure was so shapely,\nand he was so winning in his looks and ways, so gentle, and yet so sure\nof his words, and he appeared so gallant in his sky-blue smock, red belt\nand gay Sunday bonnet with bean blossoms for feathers, that people\nwondered at him and many believed that he was really an elf or a fairy.\n\nMany things, I grant, encouraged this notion. First of all, the cabin\nand the bean field\u2014the bean field in which a few years ago a cow would\nhave found nothing to graze on\u2014had become one of the fine estates of the\ncountry-side; and not a soul could tell how it had happened. Well, to\nsee beanstalks sprouting, to see them flowering, to see the blossom\nfading and the beans swelling ripe in the pods\u2014there is nothing out of\nthe common in that, but to see a whole bean field expanding, spreading\nout, with never a strip of land added, whether bought or knavishly taken\nfrom a neighbour\u2019s holding\u2014that gets beyond understanding.\n\n[Illustration: [Boy]]\n\nAnd all the while the bean field went on growing and spreading. It\nspread to the south wind, it spread to the north wind, it spread towards\nthe dawn, it spread towards the sunset. And the neighbours measured\ntheir land to no purpose; they always found it full measure with a rod\nor two to the good, so they naturally concluded that the whole country\nwas getting bigger. Then again the beans bore so heavily that the cabin\ncould never have contained the crop, had it not also grown larger. And\nyet for more than five leagues round the bean-crop failed, so that beans\nhad become priceless because of the quantities sought for the tables of\nlords and kings.\n\nIn the midst of this abundance the Luck of the Bean-rows saw to\neverything himself, turning the soil, sorting the seed, cleansing the\nplants, weeding, digging, hoeing, harvesting, shelling, and, over and\nabove, trimming hedges and mending wattle fences. What time was left he\nspent bargaining with the market people, for he could read, write and\nkeep accounts, though he had had no schooling. He was indeed a very\nblessing of a boy.\n\n[Illustration: [Boy]]\n\nOne night, when the Luck was asleep, the old man said to his wife:\n\u201cThere is Luck of the Bean-rows now, who has done so much to make us\ncomfortable that we can spend the few years that are left us in peace\nand without labour. In making him heir to all we own we have given him\nonly what is already his; and we should be thankless indeed if we did\nnot try to secure him a more becoming position in life than that of a\nbean-merchant. A pity he is too modest for a professor\u2019s chair in the\nuniversities, and he is just a trifle too short for a general.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s a pity,\u201d said the old woman, \u201che hasn\u2019t studied enough to pick up\nthe Latin names for five or six diseases. Eh, but they would be glad to\nmake him a doctor right off!\u201d\n\n\u201cThen as to law-suits,\u201d the old man went on, \u201cI am afraid he has too\nmuch brains and good sense to clear up one of them.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have always had a fancy,\u201d said the old woman, \u201cthat when he came of\nage he would marry Pea-Blossom.\u201d\n\n\u201cPea-Blossom,\u201d rejoined the old man, shaking his head, \u201cis far too great\na princess to marry a poor foundling, worth no more than a cabin and a\nbean field. Pea-Blossom, old dear, is a match for a squire or a justice\nof the peace, or for the king himself, if he came to be a widower. We\nare talking of a serious matter, do speak sense.\u201d\n\n\u201cLuck of the Bean-rows has more sense than both of us together,\u201d said\nhis wife after a moment\u2019s thought. \u201cBesides, it is his business, and it\nwould not be proper to press it further without asking his opinion.\u201d\n\nWhereupon the old couple turned over and went to sleep.\n\nDay was just breaking when the Luck leaped out of bed to begin work in\nthe field as usual. Who but he was surprised to find his Sunday clothes\nlaid out on the chest where he had left his others at bedtime? \u201cIt is a\nweek-day, anyway,\u201d he said to himself, \u201cif the almanack hasn\u2019t gone\nwrong. Mother must be keeping some holiday of her own to have set out my\nbest things. Well, let it be as she wishes. I would not cross her in\nanything at her great age, and after all it is easy to make up for an\nhour or two by rising earlier or working later.\u201d\n\nSo after a prayer to God for the health of his parents and the progress\nof the beans, he dressed as handsomely as he could. He was about to go\nout of doors if only to cast an eye at the fences before the old couple\nawoke, when his mother appeared on the threshold with a bowl of good\nsteaming porridge, which she placed with a wooden spoon on his little\ntable.\n\n\u201cEat it up, eat it up!\u201d she said; \u201cdo not be sparing of this porridge\nsweetened with honey and a pinch of green aniseed, just as you liked it\nwhen you were a little fellow; for the road is before you, laddie, and\nit is a long road you will travel to-day.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is good to hear,\u201d said Luck of the Bean-rows, looking at her in\nsurprise; \u201cand where are you sending me?\u201d\n\nThe old woman sat down on a stool, and with her two hands on her knees,\nreplied with a laugh: \u201cInto the world, into the wide world, little Luck.\nYou have never seen anyone but ourselves, and a few poor market folk you\nsell your beans to, to keep the house going, good lad. Now one day, one\nday, you will be a big man if the price of beans keeps up, so it will be\nwell for you, dearie, to know some people in good society. I must tell\nyou there is a great city four or five miles away where at every step\none meets lords in cloth of gold and ladies in silver dresses with\ntrails of roses. Your bonnie little face, so pleasant and so lively,\nwill be sure to win them; and I shall be much mistaken if the day goes\nby without your getting some distinguished appointment at court or in\nthe public offices, where you may earn much and do little. So eat it up\nand do not spare the good porridge sweetened with honey and a pinch of\ngreen aniseed.\n\n[Illustration: [Ladies]]\n\n\u201cNow as you know more about the price of beans than about the value of\nmoney,\u201d the old woman went on, \u201cyou are to sell in the market these six\nquart measures of choice beans. I have not put more lest you should be\noverburdened. Besides, with beans as dear as they are now, you would be\nhard set to bring home the price even if they paid you only in gold. So\nwe propose, father and I, that you should keep half of what you get to\nenjoy yourself properly, as young people should, or in buying yourself\nsome pretty trinket to wear of a Sunday, such as a silver watch with\nruby and emerald seals, or an ivory cup and ball or a Nuremberg\nhumming-top. The rest of the money you can put in the bank.\n\n[Illustration: [Gifts]]\n\n\u201cSo away with you, my little Luck, since you have finished your\nporridge; and be sure that you do not lose time chasing butterflies, for\nwe should die broken-hearted if you were not home before nightfall. And\nkeep to the roads for fear of the wolves.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will do as you bid me, mother,\u201d replied the Luck of the Bean-rows,\nhugging the old woman, \u201cthough for my part I would sooner spend the day\nin the field. As for wolves, they don\u2019t trouble me with my\nweeding-hook.\u201d\n\nSo saying he slung his pronged hoe in his belt, and set out at a steady\npace.\n\n\u201cCome back early,\u201d the old woman kept calling after him; she was already\nfeeling sorry that she had let him go.\n\nLuck of the Bean-rows tramped on and on, taking huge strides like a\nfive-foot giant, and staring left and right at the strange things he saw\nby the way. He had never dreamed that the world was so big and so full\nof wonders.\n\nWhen he had walked for an hour or more, as he reckoned by the height of\nthe sun, and was puzzled that he had not yet reached the great city at\nthe rate he was going, he thought he heard someone calling after him:\n\u201cWhoo, whoo, whoo, whoo, twee! Please do stop, Master Luck of the\nBean-rows.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho is it calling me?\u201d cried Luck of the Bean-rows, clapping his hand\non his pronged hoe.\n\n\u201cPlease do stop at once. Whoo, whoo, whoo, whoo, twee! It is I who am\ncalling you.\u201d\n\n\u201cCan it be possible?\u201d asked Luck, raising his eyes to the top of an old\npine, hollow and half dead, on which a great owl was swaying in the\nwind. \u201cWhat is it we two can settle together, my bonnie bird?\u201d\n\n[Illustration: [Owl]]\n\n\u201cIt would be indeed a wonder if you recognised me,\u201d answered the owl,\n\u201cfor you had no notion that I was ever helping you, as a modest and\nhonest owl should, by devouring at my own risk the swarms of rats which\nnibbled away half your crops, good year and bad year. That is why your\nfield now brings you in what will buy you a pretty kingdom, if you know\nwhen you have enough. As for me, who have paid dearly for my care of\nothers, I have not one wretched lean rat on the hooks of the larder\nagainst daylight, for now at night, with my eyes grown so dim in your\nservice, I can scarcely see where I am going. So I called to you,\ngenerous Luck of the Bean-rows, to beg of you one of those good quart\nmeasures of beans hanging from your staff. It will keep me alive till my\noldest son comes of age, and on his loyalty to you you may reckon.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy that, Master Owl,\u201d cried Luck of the Bean-rows, taking one of his\nown three quart measures from the end of his staff, \u201cis a debt of\ngratitude, and I am glad to repay it.\u201d\n\nThe owl darted down on the measure, caught it in his claws and beak, and\nwith one flap of the wing carried it off to the tree-top.\n\n\u201cMy word, but you are in a hurry to be off!\u201d said the Luck. \u201cMay I ask,\nMaster Owl, if I am still far from the great town mother is sending me\nto?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are just going into it,\u201d answered the owl, as he flitted off to\nanother tree.\n\nLuck of the Bean-rows went on his way with a lighter staff; he felt sure\nhe must be near the end of his journey, but he had hardly gone a hundred\nsteps when he heard someone else calling:\n\n\u201cBehh, behh, bekky! Please stop, Master Luck of the Bean-rows!\u201d\n\n\u201cI think I know that voice,\u201d said the Luck, turning round. \u201cWhy, yes, of\ncourse! It is that bare-faced rogue of a mountain she-goat, which prowls\naround my field with her kids for a toothsome snack. So it is you, is\nit, my lady raider?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is that about raiding, fair Master Luck? I guess your hedges are\ntoo thick, your ditches too deep, your fences too close for any raiding.\nAll one could do was to nip a few leaves that pushed through the chinks\nof the wattles, and our pruning makes the stalks thrive. You know the\nold saying:\n\n                   _Sheeps\u2019 teeth, loss and trouble,\n                   Goats\u2019 teeth pay back double.\u201d_\n\n\u201cSay no more,\u201d broke in Luck of the Bean-rows; \u201cand may all the ill I\nwished you fall upon my own head. But why did you stop me, and what can\nI do to please you, Madame Doe?\u201d\n\n\u201cMisery me!\u201d she sobbed, dropping big tears, \u201cBehh, behh, bekky! it was\nto tell you that the wicked wolf had killed my husband, the buck; and\nnow my little orphan and I are in sore need, for he will forage for us\nno more; and I fear my poor little kid will die of hunger if you cannot\nhelp her. So I called to you, noble Master Luck of the Bean-rows, to beg\nof pity one of those good quart measures of beans hanging from your\nstaff. It will keep us till we get help from our kinsfolk.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat you ask, Lady Doe,\u201d said the Luck, taking one of his two measures\nfrom his staff, \u201cis an act of compassion and good will, and I am glad to\ndo it for you.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: [Goat]]\n\nThe goat caught up the measure in her lips, and one bound carried her\ninto the leafy thicket.\n\n\u201cMy word, but you are in a hurry to be off!\u201d cried Luck of the\nBean-rows. \u201cMay I ask you, dear lady, if I am still far from the great\ntown mother is sending me to?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are there already,\u201d answered the goat as she buried herself deep\namong the bushes.\n\nOnce more the Luck went on his way, his staff the lighter by two quart\nmeasures. He was looking out for the walls of the big town when he\nnoticed by a rustling along the skirt of the woods that someone was\nfollowing him closely. He turned quickly towards the sound, with his\npronged hoe gripped hard in his hand. Well for him that the prongs were\nopen, for the prowler that was tracking him was a grim old wolf whose\nappearance promised no good.\n\n[Illustration: [Wolf]]\n\n\u201cSo it is you, evil beast!\u201d cried Luck. \u201cYou hoped to give me the place\nof honour at your evening spread! By good fortune my two iron teeth,\u201d\nand he glanced at his hoe, \u201care worth all yours together, though I would\nnot belittle _them_; so you may take it as settled, old crony, that you\nare to sup this evening without me. Consider yourself in luck, too, if I\ndo not avenge the husband of the she-goat and the father of the kid who\nhave been brought into pitiful straits by your cruelty. Perhaps I ought\nto, and it would only be justice, but I have been brought up with such a\nhorror of blood that I am loth to shed even a wolf\u2019s.\u201d\n\nSo far the wolf had listened in deep humility; now he suddenly broke\ninto a long and lamentable howl and turned up his eyes to heaven as if\ncalling on it to bear witness.\n\n\u201cOh, power divine, who clothed me as a wolf,\u201d he sobbed, \u201cyou know if\never I felt wicked desires in my heart. However, my lord,\u201d he added,\nwith a bow of resignation towards Luck of the Bean-rows, \u201cit lies with\nyou to dispose of my wretched life. I place it at your mercy without\nfear and without remorse. If you think it right to make my death atone\nfor the crimes of my race I shall die at your hands without repining;\nfor ever since I fondled you in your cradle with pure delight, when your\nlady mother was not there, I have ever loved you dearly and truly\nhonoured you. Then you grew so handsome, so stately, that, only to look\nat you, one might have guessed you would become a great and magnanimous\nprince, as you have. Only I beg you to believe, before you condemn me, I\ndid not stain these claws in the blood of the doe\u2019s luckless mate.\n\n\u201cI was brought up on principles of restraint and moderation; my fell is\nsprinkled with grey, but through all the years I have never swerved from\nthem. At the time you mention I was abroad among my scattered\ntribesfolk, proclaiming sound moral doctrines in the hope of leading\nthem by word and example to a frugal standard of living, that high aim\nof wolfish character. I will go further, my lord; that mountain goat was\nmy good friend. I encouraged promising qualities in him; often we\ntravelled together, discoursing by the way, for he had a bright wit and\neagerness to learn. In my absence a sad quarrel for precedence (you know\nhow touchy these rock people are on this point) was the cause of his\ndeath, which I have never got over.\u201d\n\nThe wolf wept\u2014from the very depth of his heart it seemed, as\ninconsolable as the doe herself.\n\n\u201cFor all that and all that,\u201d said the Luck of the Bean-rows, who had\nkept the prongs of his weeding-hook open, \u201cyou were stalking me.\u201d\n\n\u201cFollowing you, following you, yes,\u201d replied the wolf in wheedling\ntones, \u201cin the hope of interesting you in my benevolent purpose, but in\nsome more suitable place than this for conversation. Ah, I said to\nmyself, if my lord Luck of the Bean-rows, whose reputation is spread far\nand wide, would but share in my scheme of reform, he would have to-day a\nsplendid opportunity. I warrant that one quart measure of those dainty\nbeans hanging from his staff would convert a tribe of wolves, wolflings\nand cubs to a vegetable diet, and preserve countless generations of\nbucks, does and kids.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is the last of my measures,\u201d thought the Luck to himself, \u201cbut what\ndo I want with cups and balls, rubies and humming-tops? And who would\nput child\u2019s play before something really useful?\u201d\n\n\u201cThere are your beans,\u201d he said as he took the last measure his mother\nhad given him for his amusement. All the same he did not shut the prongs\nof his hoe.\n\n\u201cIt is all that was left of my own,\u201d said he, \u201cbut I don\u2019t regret it;\nand I shall be grateful to you, friend wolf, if you put it to the good\nuse you have promised.\u201d The wolf snapped his fangs on it and bounded\naway to his den.\n\n\u201cMy word,\u201d said Luck of the Bean-rows, \u201cyou are in a hurry to be off!\nMay I ask, Master Wolf, if I am still far from the great town mother is\nsending me to?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have been there for long enough,\u201d replied the wolf, laughing out of\nthe corner of his eyes; \u201cand stay there a thousand years you will see\nnothing new.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: [Boy]]\n\nYet once more Luck of the Bean-rows went on his way, and kept looking\nabout for the town walls, but never a glimpse of them was to be seen. He\nwas beginning to feel tired when he was startled by piercing cries which\ncame from a leafy by-path. He ran towards the sound.\n\n\u201cWhat is it?\u201d he shouted, and gripped his weeding-hook. \u201cWho is it\ncrying for help? Speak; I cannot see you.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: [Carriage]]\n\n\u201cIt is I, it is Pea-Blossom,\u201d replied a low, sweet voice. \u201cOh, do come\nand get me out of this fix, Master Luck of the Bean-rows. It is easy as\nwishing and will cost you nothing.\u201d\n\n\u201cBelieve me, madam,\u201d said the Luck, \u201cit is not my way to count the cost\nwhen I can help. Whatever I have is yours to command, except these three\nquart measures of beans on my staff; they are not mine, they belong to\nfather and mother. Mine I have just given away to a venerable owl, to a\nsaintly wolf, who is preaching like a hermit, and to the most charming\nof mountain does. I have not a bean left that I can offer you.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are laughing at me,\u201d returned Pea-Blossom, somewhat displeased.\n\u201cWho spoke of beans, sir? I have no need for your beans; they are not\nknown in my household. The service you can do me is to turn the door\nhandle of my carriage and throw back the hood\u2014it is nearly smothering\nme.\u201d\n\n\u201cI shall be delighted, madam,\u201d said Luck of the Bean-rows, \u201cif I could\nonly discover your carriage. No trace of a carriage here! And no room to\ndrive on such a narrow path. Still I shall soon find it, for I can hear\nthat you are quite close to me.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat!\u201d she cried with a merry laugh, \u201cYou cannot see my carriage! Why\nyou almost trampled on it, running up in your wild way. It is right in\nfront of you, dear Luck of the Bean-rows. You can tell it by its elegant\nappearance, which is something like a dwarf pea.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is so like a chick pea,\u201d thought the Luck as he bent down, \u201cthat if\nI hadn\u2019t looked very close I should have taken it for nothing but a\nchick pea.\u201d\n\nOne glance, however, showed him that it was really a very large dwarf\npea, round as an orange, yellow as a lemon, mounted on four little\ngolden wheels, equipped with a dainty \u201cboot,\u201d or hold-all, made of a\ntiny peascod as bright and green as morocco.\n\nHe touched the handle; the door flew open; and Pea-Blossom sprang out\nlike a grain of touch-me-not, and lighted nimbly and gaily on her feet.\n\n[Illustration: [Princess]]\n\nThe Luck stood up in amazement, never had he conceived of anyone so\nlovely as Pea-Blossom. Her face, indeed, was the most perfect a painter\ncould have imagined\u2014sparkling almond eyes of a wonderful violet, and a\nsmall frolicsome mouth which showed glimpses of bright teeth as white as\nalabaster. Her short dress, slightly puffed out and brocaded with sweet\npeas, came just below the knee. She wore tight stockings of white silk;\nand her adorable little feet\u2014why, one envied the lucky shoemaker who\nshod them in satin.\n\n\u201cWhat can you be staring at?\u201d she asked, which shows, by the way, that\nLuck of the Bean-rows was not making a very brilliant appearance.\n\nThe Luck blushed, but quickly recovered himself. \u201cI was wondering,\u201d he\nsaid modestly, \u201chow so beautiful a princess, just about my own size too,\ncould possibly find room in a dwarf pea.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat a mistake to speak so slightingly of my carriage, Luck of the\nBean-rows. It is a most comfortable carriage when it is open. And it is\nquite by chance that I have not my equerry, my almoner, my tutor, my\nsecretary, and two or three of my ladies-in-waiting with me. But I like\ndriving alone, and this fancy of mine caused the accident that has\nhappened to me to-day.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: [King]]\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know whether you have met the king of the crickets in company;\nno one could mistake his glittering black mask, like Harlequin\u2019s, with\ntwo straight movable horns, and his shrill singsong whenever he speaks.\nThe king of the crickets condescended to fall in love with me. He was\nquite well aware that I come of age to-day, and that it is the custom\nfor the princesses of our house to choose a husband when they are ten\nyears old. So he put himself in my way\u2014that too is the custom\u2014and beset\nme with a frightful racket of piercing declarations. I answered him\u2014also\naccording to custom\u2014by stopping my ears.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, joy!\u201d exclaimed the Luck in rapture. \u201cYou are not going to marry\nthe king of the crickets?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am not going to marry him,\u201d Pea-Blossom declared with dignity. \u201cMy\nchoice is made. But no sooner had I given my decision than the odious\nCrik-Crik (that is his name) flung himself on my carriage like a wild\nmonster, and slammed down the hood. \u2018Get married now, saucy minx,\u2019 he\nshrieked, \u2018get married if anyone ever comes a-wooing you in this plight.\n_I_ don\u2019t care a chick pea either for your kingdom or yourself.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cBut do tell me,\u201d cried Luck of the Bean-rows, indignantly, \u201cin what\nhole this king of the crickets is skulking. I will quickly hoe him out\nand fling him bound hand and foot to your mercy. And yet,\u201d he continued,\nas he rested his head on his hand, \u201cI can understand his desperation.\nBut is it not my duty, princess, to escort you to your realm and protect\nyou from pursuit?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat would certainly be advisable if I were far from the frontier,\u201d\nanswered Pea-Blossom, \u201cbut yonder is a field of sweet peas which my\nenemy dare not approach, and where I can count upon my faithful\nsubjects.\u201d\n\nAs she spoke she struck the ground with her foot, and fell, clinging to\ntwo swaying stalks, which bent under her and then sprang up again,\nscattering their fragrant blossom over her hair.\n\nAs Luck of the Bean-rows watched her with delight\u2014and I assure you I\nwould have been delighted too\u2014she pierced him with her bright eyes, and\nhe was so spell-bound in the maze of her smile that he would have been\nhappy to die watching her. At the least he might have been still\nstanding there had she not spoken.\n\n[Illustration: [Boy]]\n\n\u201cI have delayed you too long already,\u201d she said, \u201cfor I know what a\nstirring business the trade in beans must be just at present; but my\ncarriage\u2014or rather your carriage\u2014will enable you to recover the time you\nhave lost. Please do not hurt my feelings by refusing so slight a gift.\nI have a thousand carriages like it in the corn-lofts of the castle, and\nwhen I would like a new one I pick it out of a handful and throw the\nrest to the mice.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe least of your highness\u2019s favours would be the pride and joy of my\nlife,\u201d replied the Luck of the Bean-rows, \u201cbut you have forgotten that I\nhave luggage. I can easily imagine that however closely my bean measures\nmay be filled I could manage to find room for your carriage in one of\nthem, but to get my measures into your carriage, that would be\nimpossible.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: [Princess]]\n\n\u201cTry it,\u201d laughed the princess as she swung up and down on the sprays of\nthe sweet peas; \u201ctry it, and do not stand amazed at everything, as if\nyou were a little child who had seen nothing.\u201d\n\nAnd indeed Luck of the Bean-rows had no difficulty in getting his three\nquart measures into the body of the carriage\u2014it could have held thirty\nand more, and he felt rather mortified.\n\n\u201cI am ready to start, madam,\u201d he said, as he took his place on a plump\ncushion, which was large enough to let him sit comfortably in any\nposition, or even to lie at full length if he had been so minded.\n\n\u201cI owe it to my kind parents,\u201d he continued, \u201cnot to leave them in\nsuspense as to what has become of me this first time of my ever leaving\nthem; so I am waiting only for your coachman, who fled, no doubt in\nterror at the outbreak of the king of the crickets, and took the horses\nand shafts with him. I shall then leave this spot with everlasting\nregret that I should have seen you without hope of ever seeing you\nagain.\u201d\n\nThe princess did not appear to notice the marked feeling of the Luck\u2019s\nlast words.\n\n\u201cWhy,\u201d she said, \u201cmy carriage does not need either coachman, shafts, or\nhorses; it goes by steam, and at any hour it can easily do fifty\nthousand miles. You see you will have no trouble in getting home\nwhenever it suits you. You have just to remember the gesture and words\nwith which I start it.\n\n\u201cIn the boot you will find various things that may be useful on the\njourney; they are every one of them yours. You open the boot as you\nwould shell a green pea. There you will see three caskets, the shape and\nsize of a pea, each fastened by a thread which keeps them in their cases\nlike peas in a pod, so that they cannot jolt against each other when you\ntravel or when you remove them. It is a wonderful contrivance!\n\n\u201cThey will open at the pressure of your finger\u2014like the hood of my\ncarriage. Then all you have to do is to make a hole in the ground with\nyour hoe, and sow some of their contents in it, to see whatever you may\nwish spring up, sprout and blossom. Is not that wonderful?\n\n\u201cOnly remember this!\u2014when the third casket is empty I have nothing else\nto offer you; for I have only three green peas, just as you had three\nmeasures of beans; and the prettiest girl in the world can give you no\nmore than she has.\n\n\u201cAre you ready to set out now?\u201d\n\nThe Luck of the Bean-rows bowed; he felt that he could not speak.\n\nPea-Blossom snapped her thumb and middle finger: \u201cOff, chick pea!\u201d she\ncried; and the field of sweet peas was left nine hundred miles behind\nwhile Luck of the Bean-rows was still turning this way and that, looking\nin vain for Pea-Blossom.\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d he sighed.\n\nIt would be doing scant justice to the speed of the magic carriage to\nsay that it shot through space at the rate of a rifle bullet. Woods,\ntowns, mountains, seas swept by quicker than magic lantern pictures. Far\naway horizons had scarcely risen in outline from the deep-down distance\nbefore they had plunged under the flying carriage. The Luck would have\nstriven in vain to see them; when he turned to look back\u2014flick! they had\ngone. At last, when he had several times outraced the sun, swept round\nthe globe, caught it up and again outstripped it, with rapid changes\nfrom day to night and from night to day, it suddenly struck the Luck of\nthe Bean-rows that he had passed the great town he was going to and the\nmarket for his beans.\n\n\u201cThe springs of this carriage are a trifle lively,\u201d he thought to\nhimself (he was nimble-witted, remember); \u201cit started off on its giddy\nrace before Pea-Blossom could tell me whither I was bound. I don\u2019t see\nwhy this journey should not last for ages and ages, for that lovely\nprincess, who is young enough to be something of a madcap, told me how\nto start the carriage, but had no time to say how I was to stop it.\u201d\n\nThe Luck of the Bean-rows tried all the cries he had heard from carters,\nwagoners, and muleteers to bring it to a standstill, but it was all to\nno purpose. Every shout seemed but to quicken its wild career.\n\nIt sped from the tropics to the poles and back from the poles to the\ntropics, across all the parallels and meridians, quite unconcerned by\nthe unhealthy changes of temperature. It was enough to broil them or to\nturn them to ice before long, if the Luck had not been gifted, as we\nhave frequently remarked, with admirable intelligence.\n\n\u201cAy,\u201d he said to himself, \u201cconsidering that Pea-Blossom sent her\ncarriage flying through the world with \u2018Off, chick pea!\u2019 it is just\npossible we can stop it by saying the exact opposite.\u201d\n\nIt was a logical idea.\n\n\u201cStop, chick pea!\u201d he cried, snapping his finger and thumb as\nPea-Blossom had done.\n\nCould a whole learned society have come to a more sensible conclusion?\nThe fairy carriage came to a standstill so suddenly, you could not have\nstopped it quicker if you had nailed it down. It did not even shake.\n\nThe Luck of the Bean-rows alighted, picked up the carriage, and let it\nslip into a leather wallet which he carried at his belt for bean\nsamples, but not before he had taken out the hold-all.\n\nThe spot where the flying carriage was pulled up in this fashion has not\nbeen described by travellers. Bruce says it was at the sources of the\nNile. M. Douville places it on the Congo, and M. Saill\u00e9 at Timbuctoo. It\nwas a boundless plain, so parched, so stony, so wild that there was\nnever a bush to lie under, not a desert moss to lay one\u2019s head upon and\nsleep, not a leaf to appease hunger or thirst.\n\nBut Luck of the Bean-rows was not in the least anxious. He prized open\nthe hold-all with his fingernail, and untied one of the three little\ncaskets which Pea-Blossom had described to him. He opened it as he had\nopened the magic carriage, and planted its contents in the sand at the\npoints of his hoe.\n\n\u201cCome of this what must come!\u201d he said, \u201cbut I do badly want a tent to\nshelter me to-night, were it only a cluster of peas in flower; a little\nsupper to keep me going, were it but a bowl of pea soup sweetened, and a\nbed to lie upon, if only one feather of a hummingbird\u2014and all the more\nas I cannot get back home to-day I am so worn out with hunger and aching\nfatigue.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: [Pavilion]]\n\nThe words had scarcely left his lips when he saw rising out of the sand\na splendid pavilion in the shape of a pergola of sweet peas. It grew up,\nit spread; from point to point it was supported upon ten props of gold;\nit dropped down leafy curtains strewn with pea-blossom; it curved into\nnumberless arches, and from the centre of each hung a crystal lustre set\nwith perfumed wax lights.\n\nThe background of this arcade was lined with Venetian mirrors, which\nreflected a blaze of light that would have dazzled a seven-year-old\neagle a league away.\n\nFrom overhead a pea leaf dropped by chance at the Luck\u2019s feet. It spread\nout into a magnificent carpet variegated with all the colours of the\nrainbow and many more. Around its border stood little round tables\nloaded with pastry and sweetmeats; and iced fruits in gilded porcelain\ncups encircled a brimming bowl of sweet-pea soup, sprinkled over with\ncurrants black as jet, green pistachio nuts, coriander comfits and\nslices of pineapple. Amid all this gorgeous show the Luck quickly\ndiscovered his bed, and that was the hummingbird\u2019s feather which he had\nwished for. It sparkled in a corner like a jewel dropped from the crown\nof the Grand Mogul, although it was so tiny that a grain of millet might\nhave concealed it.\n\nAt first he thought this pigmy bed was not quite in keeping with the\nrich furnishing of the pavilion, but the longer he looked at it, the\nlarger it grew, till humming-birds\u2019 feathers were soon lying knee-deep\non the floor\u2014a dream-couch of topazes so soft, sapphires so yielding,\nopals so elastic, that a butterfly would have sunk deep if he had\nlighted on them.\n\n\u201cThat will do, that will do,\u201d cried the Luck of the Bean-rows; \u201cI shall\nsleep too soundly as it is.\u201d\n\nI need not say that our traveller did justice to the feast that was\nspread for him, and lost no time in preparing for bed. Thoughts of love\nran through his mind, but at twelve years of age, love does not keep one\nawake; and Pea-Blossom, of whom he had had only a glimpse, had left him\nwith no more than the impression of a delightful dream, the enchantment\nof which could only return in sleep. Another good reason for going to\nsleep if you have remembrances like mine.\n\nThe Luck of the Bean-rows, however, was too cautious to yield to these\nidle fancies until he had made sure that all was safe outside the\npavilion, the very splendour of which was likely to attract all the\nthieves and vagabonds for miles round. You will find them in every\ncountry.\n\nSo, with his weeding-hook in his hand as usual, he passed out of the\nmagic circle, to make the round of his tent and see that all was quiet.\n\nNo sooner had he reached the limit of the grounds\u2014a narrow ravine washed\nout by running water that a kid might have cleared at a bound\u2014than he\nwas brought to a standstill by such a shiver as a brave man feels, for\nthe most valiant has his moments of fright which he can master only by\nhis resolute will. And, faith, there was enough to make one hesitate in\nwhat he saw.\n\n[Illustration: [Boy]]\n\nIt was a battle-front where in the darkness of a starless night\nglistened two hundred fixed and burning eyes; and along the ranks, from\nright to left, from left to right, there ran incessantly two keen\nslanting eyes which bespoke an extremely alert commander.\n\nLuck of the Bean-rows knew nothing of Lavater or Gall or Spurzheim, he\nhad never heard of phrenology, but within him he felt the natural\ninstinct which teaches every living creature to sense an enemy from\nafar. At a glance he recognised in the leader of this horde of wolves\nthe wheedling coward who had tricked him, with his talk of enlightenment\nand self-control, out of his last measure of beans.\n\n\u201cMaster Wolf has lost no time in setting his lambs on my track,\u201d said\nLuck of the Bean-rows; \u201cbut by what magic have they overtaken me, every\none of them, if these ruffians too have not travelled by chick pea? It\nis possible,\u201d he added with a sigh, \u201cthat the secrets of science are not\nunknown to scoundrels, and I dare not be sworn, when I think of it, that\nit is not they who have invented them so as to persuade simple souls the\nmore easily to take part in their hateful schemes.\u201d\n\nThough the Luck was cautious in doing, he was quick in planning. He drew\nthe hold-all hastily from his wallet, untied the second pea-casket,\nopened it as he had done the first, and planted the contents in the sand\nat point of his weeding-hook.\n\n\u201cCome of this what must come!\u201d said he; \u201cbut to-night I do badly want a\nstrong wall, were it no thicker than a cabin wall, and a close hedge if\nonly as strong as my wattle fence, to save me from my good friends the\nwolves.\u201d\n\nIn a twinkle walls arose, not cabin walls, but walls of a palace; hedges\nsprung up before the porches, not wattle fences, but a high lordly\nrailing of blue steel with gilded shafts and spear-heads that never a\nwolf, badger or fox could have tried to clear without bruising himself\nor pricking his pointed muzzle. With the art of warfare at the stage it\nhad then reached among the wolves there was nothing to be done. After\ntesting several points the invaders retired in confusion. Thankful for\nthis relief, the Luck returned to his pavilion. But now he passed on\nover marble pavements, along pillared walks lit up as if for a wedding,\nup staircases which seemed to ascend for ever and through galleries that\nwere endless. He was overjoyed to come upon his pavilion of pea-blossom\nin the midst of a vast garden, green and blooming, which he had never\nseen before, and to find his bed of humming-birds\u2019 feathers, where, I\ntake it, he slept happier than a king\u2014and I never exaggerate.\n\n[Illustration: [Castle]]\n\nNext day the first thing he did was to explore the gorgeous dwelling\nwhich had sprung out of a little pea. The beauty of the most trifling\nthings in it filled him with astonishment; for the furnishing of it was\nadmirably in keeping with its outward appearance.\n\n[Illustration: [Parrots]]\n\nHe examined, one after another, his gallery of pictures, his cabinet of\nantiques, his collections of medals, insects, shells, his library, each\nof them a wonder and a delight quite new to him.\n\nHe was especially pleased at the admirable judgment with which the books\nhad been chosen. The finest works in literature, the most useful in\nscience had been gathered together for the entertainment and instruction\nof a long life\u2014among them the Adventures of the ingenious Don Quixote;\nfairy tales of every kind, with beautiful engravings; a collection of\ncurious and amusing travels and voyages (those of Gulliver and Robinson\nCrusoe so far the most authentic); capital almanacks, full of diverting\nanecdotes and infallible information as to the phases of the moon and\nthe best times for sowing and planting; numberless treatises, very\nsimply and clearly written, on agriculture, gardening, angling, netting\ngame, and the art of taming nightingales\u2014in short, all one can wish for\nwhen one has learned to value books and the spirit of their authors. For\nthere have been no other scholars, no other philosophers, no other\npoets, and for this unquestionable reason, that all learning, all\nphilosophy, all poetry are to be found in their pages, and to be found\nonly there. I can answer for that.\n\nWhile he was thus taking account of his wealth, the Luck of the\nBean-rows was struck by the reflection of himself in one of the mirrors\nwith which all the apartments were adorned. If the glass was not fooling\nhim, he must have grown\u2014oh, wonder of wonders!\u2014more than three feet\nsince yesterday. And the brown moustache which darkened his upper lip\nplainly showed that he was passing from sturdy boyhood to youthful\nmanliness.\n\n[Illustration: [Boy]]\n\nHe was puzzling over this extraordinary change, when, to his great\nregret, a costly time-piece, between two pier-glasses, enabled him to\nsolve the riddle. One of the hands pointed to the date of the year, and\nthe Luck saw, without a shadow of doubt, that he had grown six years\nolder.\n\n\u201cSix years!\u201d he exclaimed. \u201cUnfortunate creature that I am! My poor\nparents have died of old age, and perhaps in want. Oh, pity me, perhaps\nthey died of grief, fretting over the loss of me. What must they have\nthought in their last hours of my deserting them or of the misfortune\nthat had befallen me!\n\n[Illustration: [Clock]]\n\n\u201cNow I understand, hateful carriage, how you came to travel so fast;\ndays and days were swallowed up in your minutes. Off, then; off, chick\npea!\u201d he continued as he took the magic coach from the wallet and flung\nit out of the window; \u201cout of my sight, and fly so far that no eye may\never look on you again!\u201d\n\nAnd to tell the truth, so far as I know, no one has ever since cast eyes\non a chick pea in the shape of a post-chaise that went fifty leagues an\nhour.\n\nLuck of the Bean-rows descended the marble steps more sorrowfully than\never he went down the ladder of his bean-loft. He turned his back on the\npalace without even seeing it; he traversed those desert plains with\nnever a thought of the wolves that might have encamped there to besiege\nhim. He tramped on in a dream, striking his forehead with his hand and\nat times weeping.\n\n\u201cWhat is there to wish for now that my parents are dead?\u201d he asked\nhimself as he listlessly turned the little hold-all in his fingers, \u201cnow\nthat Pea-Blossom has been married six years?\u2014for it was on the day I saw\nher that she came of age, and then the princesses of her house are\nmarried. Besides, she had already made her choice. What does the whole\nworld matter\u2014my world which was made up of no more than a cabin, a bean\nfield\u2014which you, little green pea,\u201d and he untied the last of the\ncaskets from its case, \u201cwill never bring back to me. The sweet days of\nboyhood return no more!\n\n\u201cGo, little green pea, go whither the will of God may carry you, and\nbring forth what you are destined to bring, to the glory of your\nmistress. All is over and done with\u2014my old parents, the cabin, the bean\nfield and Pea-Blossom. Go, little green pea, far and far away.\u201d\n\nHe flung it from him with such force that it might have overtaken the\nmagic carriage had it been of that mind; then he sank down on the sand,\nhopeless and full of sorrow.\n\n[Illustration: [Boy]]\n\n[Illustration: [Boy]]\n\nWhen Luck of the Bean-rows raised himself up again the entire appearance\nof the plain was changed. Right away to the horizon it was a sea of\ndusky or of sunny green, over which the wind rolled tossing waves of\nwhite keel-shaped flowers with butterfly wings. Here they were flecked\nwith violet like bean-blossom, there with rose like pea-blossom, and\nwhen the wind shook them together they were lovelier than the flowers of\nthe loveliest garden plots.\n\nLuck of the Bean-rows sprang forward; he recognised it all\u2014the enlarged\nfield, the improved cabin, his father and mother alive, hastening now to\nmeet him as eagerly as their old limbs would carry them, to tell him\nthat not a day had passed since he went away without their receiving\nnews of him in the evening, and with the news kindly gifts which had\ncheered them, and good hopes of his return, which had kept them alive.\n\n[Illustration: [Elderly couple]]\n\nThe Luck embraced them fondly, and gave them each an arm to accompany\nhim to his palace. Now they wondered more and more as they approached\nit! Luck of the Bean-rows was afraid of overshadowing their joy, yet he\ncould not help saying: \u201cAh, if you had seen Pea-Blossom! But it is six\nyears since she married.\u201d\n\n\u201cSince I married you,\u201d said a gentle voice, and Pea-Blossom threw wide\nthe iron gates: \u201cMy choice was made then, do you not remember? Do come\nin,\u201d she continued, kissing the old man and the old woman, who could not\ntake their eyes off her, for she too had grown six years older and was\nnow sixteen; \u201cDo come in! This is your son\u2019s home, and it is in the land\nof the spirit and of day dreams where one no longer grows old and where\nno one dies.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: [Princess]]\n\nIt would have been difficult to welcome these poor people with better\nnews.\n\nThe marriage festivities were held with all the splendour befitting such\nhigh personages; and their lives never ceased to be a perfect example of\nlove, constancy and happiness.\n\nThis is the usual lucky ending of all good fairy tales.\n\n\n[Illustration: Finis.]\n\n\n                         THE WESTMINSTER PRESS\n                            411a HARROW ROAD\n                               LONDON, W\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n\n\n                          TRANSCRIBER\u2019S NOTES\n\n\n 1. Silently corrected obvious typographical errors and variations in\n      spelling.\n 2. Retained archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as printed.\n 3. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.","title":"The luck of the bean-rows, a fairy tale","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":8347}