Tonight I'm sharing a special 7 hour sleep stories compilation for deep restful sleep.
This long,
Soothing collection of bedtime stories is designed to help calm your mind,
Ease anxiety and guide you gently into a full night of peaceful rest.
Whether you're settling in after a long day or simply need something soft to drift off to,
This gentle sleep stories compilation is here to help you unwind and sleep soundly.
Before we begin,
Let's take just a moment to settle in.
Take a nice deep breath in,
And slowly exhale.
Let those shoulders drop,
And feel your body soften.
There's nothing you need to do right now but just rest.
You are safe,
And everything is ok.
You can let go and relax.
Now,
Snuggle in and get comfy and cozy under those covers,
And let yourself drift into a deep,
Restful sleep.
There was a knock at the King's study door.
The King looked up from his plans for the new public wash houses inside.
It was the 27th knock since breakfast.
Come in,
Said the King,
Feeling tired.
The Lord Chief Good Doer entered.
He wore a white gown and carried a white wand.
If you had been there,
You would have noticed how clean the King's study looked.
The books were bound in white vellum,
The floor was covered in white mats,
And the curtains were made of white silk.
Of course,
It wouldn't be practical for everyone to have such things,
Even if we were all Kings,
But it would be too much work for the servants.
But this King,
Named Albin,
Had an excellent housekeeper who cleaned everything with white magic.
It only took her five minutes every morning.
I'm sorry to disturb you,
Your Majesty,
Said the Lord Chief Good Doer,
But your long lost brother,
Negretti,
Has arrived from the Golden Indies.
He says he can't stay more than a half an hour.
The King jumped up,
Knocking over the whitewood table that held the white books,
We call them blue books in England,
But they're just as dull inside no matter the color.
My dear brother,
I haven't seen him since we were boys,
He cried,
And hurried out to meet him,
Lifting his royal white velvet robes to run faster down the cool marble halls.
At the front door of the palace,
The King's brother was just getting off his elephant.
Negretti was a withered,
Shriveled man like an old apple,
And wore a bright orange plush suit covered with emeralds.
The white marble terrace in front of the palace was crowded with his followers of all colors,
Black,
Brown,
Yellow,
And cream,
Wore bright clothes of scarlet,
Blue,
Purple,
And orange,
And their outfits were sewn with rubies,
Sapphires,
Amethysts,
And topazes.
The sunlight made the whole scene shine so brightly,
It was almost too much to look at.
Welcome,
Welcome,
King Alban cried,
And kissed his brother on both cheeks,
As was the custom in Albanatolia and many other civilized lands.
Still holding his brother's hands,
He led him into the palace.
The dazzling followers trailed behind,
And the head housemaid shut the front door and locked it.
She knew that some rubies or sapphires might fall off the servants,
And she thought those gems might as well end up in her dustpan when she swept up after lunch,
Rather than in the pockets of any poor people who might come by for advice from the king,
As they often did.
This was the beginning of the trouble caused by the arrival of the king's brother.
Before this,
The palace doors were never locked,
Because everyone was content and therefore honest.
King Alban entertained his brother for seven days in grand style,
Then gave him his own palace to live in.
The palace,
Like most buildings in Albanatolia,
Was made of white marble,
But Negretti had it painted red as soon as possible.
He began hosting parties,
Holding parades,
And throwing money to the crowds.
Every day the people loved him more.
He was loud,
Jolly,
And full of jokes,
With a black beard,
And always dressed in plush,
A material no one had seen before.
He always sparkled with jewels,
And he even set up a circus in the field behind his palace,
Introduced horse racing,
And showed brightly colored films.
He became so popular that people began to forget all the good King Alban had done for them.
Some even secretly wished their king was as lively and fun as Prince Negretti.
King Alban had always worked hard for his people's well-being,
Which didn't leave much time for being fun.
He never held parades or circuses,
Preferring small tea parties with the Lord Chief Good Doer,
The Public Health Commissioner,
And a few others from the Education Department.
He loved wandering alone,
Dreaming in the blossoming orchards,
The meadows by the river where white jonquils grew,
Or in the lanes lined with pear trees.
He also enjoyed the terraced garden of his palace,
Where white roses bloomed,
And white peacocks spread their tails on the marble balustrades.
Wherever he went,
He thought of ways to make life better for his people.
Everyone had enough to eat,
Enough clothes and enough work,
Which is very important,
But they didn't have enough fun,
And that's why they started listening to Negretti's whispers of discontent.
Now Negretti was a magician,
But his magic was black or colored kind,
Not the white magic that washed clothes.
He was always experimenting with chemicals,
Mixing acids,
Alkalis,
And other ingredients.
Whenever he made a nice color by mixing things,
He'd put it in a bottle and display it in the palace windows.
At night,
His windows were brighter than any chemist's shop,
And the people thought it was as good as fireworks.
The king's palace windows,
Which gave off a soft white light like moonlight,
Started to seem dull in comparison.
Negretti often wandered around town,
Stirring up discontent as easily as he mixed chemicals.
Though he was well-known,
No one recognized him because he always disguised himself as a respectable person,
And his disguises were perfect.
One night,
He sat in disguise at the king's head,
The finest municipal tavern,
Drinking dog's nose,
A mix of beer and gin from a pewter pot.
The grumbling of the people around him was music to his ears.
"'Albin isn't my kind of king,
' said the blacksmith.
"'I could make a better king out of a lump of clay,
' said the painter.
"'What's the point of a king if you never see him?
' said the landlady.
"'No parades,
No flags,
No fancy carriages,
No jewels.
Nothing like what a country has a right to expect on its king's back.
"'Just that old white robe,
' said the barmaid.
"'It's nothing more than a velvet nightgown,
' said the landlady.
"'I like a bit of color,
' said the painter.
"'I don't ask for anything fancy,
But a good warm maroon or a royal blue would do.
"'But no,
It's always white,
White,
White until I'm sick of it.
"'And we all have to wear white by law.
"'And the washing's done for free by white magic at the palace on Mondays from ten to four.
"'We can't even have more than a quart of beer in the evening.
"'I tell you,
We're miserable,
Degraded slaves.
"'That's what we are.
' "'If we must have a king,
' said the blacksmith,
"'why not Negretti?
"'Now he's a real king.
"'If only he knew how much we love him.
"'He'd be on our throne tomorrow.
'" At this,
Negretti threw off his disguise.
The pewter pot rolled to the floor,
Spilling the last of his drink.
And he stood before them,
Pale but firm,
Holding a dark lantern.
It was,
Of course,
A magic lantern.
"'Oppressed people,
' he cried.
"'Come with me.
"'Let's overthrow a king who hides his tyranny behind public kitchens "'and covers his cruel rule with free laundry on Mondays.
"'To the palace.
'" They all finished their drinks and followed him.
Half the town joined them as they marched toward the palace.
While Negretti was stirring up trouble,
The king,
In his white robes,
Was walking among the blossoming pear trees in his orchard.
It was spring,
And the full moon lit the dewy grass.
As he walked,
He saw a figure in white coming toward him.
When it got closer,
He realized it was a lady,
More beautiful than stars in the night sky.
"'Who are you?
' the king asked.
"'I am a poor princess,
Seeking my fortune,
' she replied.
"'Stay in my palace tonight,
' said the king,
And he led her through the sweet grass to the palace garden.
When they reached the terrace,
The princess set down a lantern she carried,
Lit it,
And opened the door.
Bright light poured out like sunshine,
Revealing that her gown wasn't white,
But golden,
And her hair was red-gold.
Her eyes were a mix of gold and grey.
For the first time in his life,
The king thought of himself and his own happiness.
"'Nothing will make me happy now,
Not even helping my people,
Unless you stay and become my queen,
' he said,
Taking her hands.
"'I'm searching for my fortune,
' the princess said.
"'Do you think you are it?
' "'I don't know,
' the king said,
"'but I know you are mine.
' The princess clapped her hands.
"'That's the right answer.
"'I've traveled half around the world to hear it.
"'Will you love me always?
' "'Always,
' said the king.
"'Just as you will love me.
' So they kissed as lovers should,
And walked together under the yew trees deep in conversation.
They were so caught up in each other that they didn't hear the crowd Negretti had brought to the palace doors.
When the crowd found the doors locked,
They went home,
But they returned the next morning with trumpets,
Banners,
And scraps of colored cloth over their white clothes.
The king went out to meet them.
When they saw him,
They shouted,
"'Down with Albin!
"'Down with the white king!
"'Free beer!
"'No more washing!
' and other things like that.
The king stood before them and said,
"'What have I done but seek your good?
"'When have I ever put my own happiness before yours?
"'Who has turned you against me?
"'My beloved people,
Have I ever ignored your complaints?
"'If you have wrongs,
Tell me and I will fix them.
"'If you have sorrows,
Share them with me and I will help.
"'Don't you know that your king is your servant,
"'here only to do you good?
' The crowd muttered,
And one voice shouted,
"'We don't want to be taken care of.
"'We want to have fun.
' "'I don't know,
' said the king softly,
"'but now that you've told me,
"'I will appoint a minister of fun right away,
And—' Negretti saw that the king's words and kind face were starting to win the people back.
He quickly stepped forward.
"'Just one word,
Brother,
' he said,
Leading the king into the shadow of a yew hedge.
Once they were hidden,
Negretti whispered a wicked spell.
It began in Persian,
Then moved to Greek,
Arabic,
Spanish,
And finally the language of Essex.
The last words were,
"'Be changed to a stone.
' The spell was so strong that the king immediately turned into a great white stone and fell under the yew hedge.
Negretti waited a bit,
Then returned to the crown.
"'I regret to inform you,
' he said,
"'that your king has proved unreliable.
"'When I asked him to sign an agreement to keep you all happy forever,
"'he refused,
"'and then remembered an urgent appointment in Nova Scotia.
"'He's gone,
Taking most of the royal treasure with him.
"'But don't worry,
I will be your king.
"'I have enough money to support a small palace,
"'and my ships from the Indies will soon arrive,
"'bringing treasure and plush from Yorkshire.
"'So now I am your king.
' The people believed him,
Since they had never known a king to lie,
And they shouted,
"'Long live the king!
' That very day,
Negretti had the palace painted magenta,
Covered the window sashes with gold paint,
And stuck colorful decorations everywhere.
He went out to admire his magenta palace from the garden.
As he walked down the yew path,
He saw Princess Perigilia weeping over the white stone.
"'Why are you crying?
' he asked.
"'I'm crying for the white king,
' she said.
"'Why here?
' Negretti asked.
"'I don't know,
' the princess said.
She looked so beautiful,
That Negretti hurried back to the palace to order rubies sewn all over his new purple plush suit,
Because he was planning to propose.
The next day,
Dressed in his plush suit and wearing a crown covered with jewels,
Negretti went to the part of the palace where the white king had set up a home for the princess.
He knocked on the door.
"'Come in,
' the princess said.
"'I've come to marry you,
' Negretti said,
Getting straight to the point,
Since he had a parade scheduled for that afternoon.
"'No,
Thank you,
' the princess replied.
Negretti couldn't believe his ears.
"'But you'll be queen.
Isn't that what you wanted when you were going to marry my brother?
' "'No,
It's not,
' the princess said.
"'Then what did you want?
' he asked.
"'I wanted to be the white king's wife.
' "'It's the same thing,
' he said.
"'No,
It's not,
' she said.
No matter how many jewels or plush suits he showed her,
She wouldn't change her mind.
Frustrated,
Negretti went back to the palace to make more jewels.
Meanwhile,
The princess went back to crying over the white stone.
Some birds had built nests above the palace.
They flew off and told Negretti that the princess was always crying over the white stone.
He ordered his slaves to move the stone to the middle of the bridge and drop it into the river.
They did,
But the stone got stuck in the mud,
Standing upright.
When Negretti's ships arrived from the Indies,
Full of peacocks,
Apes,
And jewels,
They crashed into the stone,
And all the treasure sank to the bottom except the peacocks,
Which flew off to a nearby kingdom.
The king there believed everyone should be useful,
So he cut off the peacocks' tails and clipped their wings,
Trying to teach them to lay turkey eggs.
But,
Of course,
Peacocks are not good at being useful.
Negretti sent people to dredge the river for his lost treasure.
Since the stone had caused so much trouble,
They took it out to the fields behind the town where the white jonquils grew and left it there in the grass.
The princess couldn't find the stone,
So she stopped crying over it and got busy.
After she refused to marry him,
Negretti had put her in charge of the laundry since the royal housekeeper had quit when the palace was painted magenta.
No one else knew how to do white magic laundry,
And though the people had complained about it before,
Now they insisted on having it.
The princess didn't know white magic,
But she washed everything using sunlight magic,
And the clothes came out pink,
Pearly,
Or green like the clouds at dawn.
The people loved it,
But Negretti did not.
I like my bold colors,
He said.
I hate half-measures.
Negretti was busy changing the kingdom to his liking.
Instead of a lord chief good-doer,
He appointed a lord chief magician,
And instead of the education department,
He created a committee of black and colored magic.
He closed the free wash houses saying,
Who needs washing,
And instead gave out nasty medicine.
He was enjoying himself,
But then a bird brought him a rumor.
The rumor had spread through town like wildfire,
And everyone knew that the white stone had moved during the night and rolled up to the town gate.
What should we do,
Asked the lord chief magician.
Smash it,
Said Negretti.
I'll take care of the medicine while you handle that.
So the lord chief magician and the committee of black and colored magic went to break the stone,
But when they struck it with hammers,
Seventeen sharp pieces of white stone flew off,
Each hitting a committee member in the eye and killing him.
Since there were exactly seventeen members,
The whole committee was wiped out.
The lord chief magician fled and hid under his bed.
The townspeople,
Meanwhile,
Were fascinated by the stone.
They started holding picnics and bringing their children to look at it.
This made Negretti furious.
What nonsense,
He said,
When the bird told him about it.
Why don't they come look at me?
I'm colorful enough.
That night,
The stone moved again,
Smashing through the town gate and rolling into the town square where it stopped.
The next morning,
Negretti went to see what had happened.
The people were crowded around the stone shouting,
It's magic!
Build it into the palace!
I could do worse,
Negretti thought.
If Roman cement and magenta paint can't stop it,
Nothing will.
He ordered the stone to be built into the palace wall above the gate.
While the workers went to get red paint,
The lord chief magician sneaked up to the gate and the stone fell on him,
Crushing him flat.
Princess Parahelia rushed out and cleaned the mortar off the stone with her sunlight magic.
She told Negretti,
Leave the stone here for tonight.
Tomorrow,
If you let me go,
I'll take it to my own kingdom and it will never bother you again.
Negretti agreed,
Because he didn't know what else to do,
And he was starting to lose hope that the princess would ever marry him.
He had asked her every day for a month,
Each time with more plush and jewels,
But she always said no.
That night,
Just before dawn,
Princess Parahelia slipped down the palace stairs to look once more at the place where the White King had promised to love her forever.
She found the white stone lying under the white rose bushes,
Covered with fallen rose petals that looked like tears.
Kneeling beside the stone,
She put her arms around it.
Poor stone,
She said.
Why can't you rest?
If I only knew what troubled you,
Maybe I could help with my sunlight magic.
If my White King were here,
He would understand,
But I can't do anything.
She wept over the stone,
Calling out for the White King to come back.
As she wept,
The light in the east grew brighter.
Slowly,
The white stone began to change.
It crumbled away,
Like sand falling through an hourglass,
Until the rising sun revealed the living form of the White King in the princess' arms.
The sun wasn't the only one who saw this.
Negretti,
Who had had a bad night,
Came out early to see if the stone had moved again.
His curiosity was satisfied.
When the White King saw his treacherous brother,
His tongue was loosed and he spoke.
The words that came out were the last ones that had gone into his ears.
First Persian,
Then Greek,
Spanish,
And finally the language of Essex.
The words were,
Be changed into stone.
But the spell had weakened over time,
And couldn't turn Negretti into a stone.
It was only strong enough to turn him into a wooden post.
I don't want to mention Negretti again,
So I'll tell you his end now.
He remained a post forever.
Later,
When King Albin started improving things for his people again,
He didn't want to waste the post,
So he made it into a pump.
The water from the pump was bitter and nasty,
Like the medicine Negretti had given the people,
But it gave children bright rosy cheeks.
The pump was moved to Harrogate or Epsom or Bath,
And if you're ever taken there,
You might have to drink the unpleasant water.
The first to drink it were Negretti's servants.
They were grateful,
But that night they stole the state barge and sailed back to their own country.
Among his other improvements,
The king introduced municipal buses,
Painted white and gold.
The pump was near the bus stop,
And the conductors started using the bitter water to wash the buses.
Over time,
The buses turned red,
Blue,
Green,
And purple,
Just as you see them today.
So now you know why buses are colorful.
When Negretti had turned into a post,
The king said,
I'm very sorry.
But the princess said,
He deserved it.
Let's not think of him again.
I've learned many things since I came here.
There's something I need to tell you.
Do you think you can handle it?
I can handle anything,
The king said,
Holding her close and kissing her.
Well,
Said the princess,
I am the princess of the sun.
If I marry you,
My dear king,
I won't be able to keep your kingdom white.
I'll bring in some soft sweet colors,
But no plush.
We'll make that a law.
You can keep teaching your people to be good,
And I'll teach them how to be happy.
Do you think I can?
The king smiled.
You've taught me,
He said.
But first,
Let's get married.
Then we can start making laws after breakfast.
So they went off,
Woke up the archbishop,
And got married.
After breakfast,
They began making laws.
The first one was,
No plush is allowed in the kingdom.
Now,
Albania is the most beautiful country in the world,
Full of soft colors and clear white.
Queen Perahelia has taught the people how to be happy,
So the king has very little work to do.
I hope you visit someday.
I went once,
But they wouldn't let me stay,
Because I was wearing a black coat and gaiters,
Which made the people unhappy.
The queen kindly asked me to leave,
Unless I could come back dressed like the colors of the dawn.
I've never been able to manage that,
And I don't think I could find my way there now.
But if you get the right clothes,
Maybe you could.
Once,
There lived an old gentleman,
Who was a very rich old gentleman,
And able to buy nearly everything he wanted.
He had earned all his wealth for himself by trading in a big city,
And now he had grown so fond of money,
That he loved it better than anything else in the world,
And thought of nothing except how he could save it up and make more.
But he never seemed to have time to enjoy himself,
With all that he had earned,
And he was very angry if he was asked to give money to others.
He lived in a handsome house all alone,
And he had a very good cook,
Who cooked him a sumptuous dinner every day,
But he rarely asked anyone to share it with him,
Though he loved eating and drinking,
And always had the best wine and food.
His cook and his other servants knew that he was greedy and hard,
And cared for nobody,
And though they served him well because he paid them,
They none of them loved him.
It was one Christmas,
And the snow lay thick upon the ground,
And the wind howled so fiercely,
That the old gentleman was very glad he was not obliged to go out into the street,
But could sit in his comfortable armchair by the fire and keep warm.
It really is terrible weather,
He said to himself,
Terrible weather,
And he went to the window,
And looked out into the street,
Where all the pavements were inches deep in snow.
I am very glad that I don't need to go out at all,
But can sit here and keep warm for today.
That is the great thing,
And I shall have some ado to keep out the cold,
Even here with the fire.
He was leaving the window,
When there came up in the street outside an old man,
Whose clothes hung in rags about him,
And who looked half frozen.
He was about the same age as the old gentleman inside the window,
And the same height,
And had grey curly hair like his,
And if they had been dressed alike,
Anyone would have taken them for two brothers.
Oh really,
Said the old gentleman irritably,
This is most annoying.
The parish ought to take up these sort of people,
And prevent their wandering about the streets,
And bothering honest folk,
For the poor old man had taken off his hat,
And began to beg.
It is Christmas day,
He said,
And though he did not speak very loud,
The old gentleman could hear every word he said quite plainly through the window.
It is Christmas day,
And you will have your dinner here in your warm room.
Of your charity,
Give me a silver shilling,
That I may go into an eating shop,
And have a dinner too.
A silver shilling,
Cried the old gentleman,
I never heard of such a thing,
Monstrous,
Go away,
I never give to beggars,
And you must have done something very wicked,
To become so poor.
But still the old man stood there,
Though the snow was falling on his shoulders,
And on his bare head.
Then give me a copper,
He said,
Just one penny,
That today I may not starve.
Certainly not,
Cried the old gentleman,
I tell you I never give to beggars at all.
But the old man did not move.
Then,
He said,
Give me some of the broken victuals from your table,
That I may creep into a doorway,
And eat a Christmas dinner there.
I will give you nothing,
Cried the old gentleman,
Stamping his foot.
Go away,
Go away at once,
Or I shall send for the policeman to take you away.
The old beggar man put on his hat,
And turned quietly away.
But what the old gentleman thought was very odd was,
That instead of seeming distressed,
He was laughing merrily.
And then he looked back at the window,
And called out some words,
But they were in a foreign tongue,
And the old gentleman could not understand them.
So he returned to his comfortable armchair by the fire,
Still murmuring angrily,
That beggars ought not to be allowed to be in the streets.
Next morning,
The snow fell more thickly than ever,
And the streets were almost impassable.
But it did not trouble the old gentleman,
For he knew he need not go out,
And get wet or cold.
But in the morning,
When he came down to breakfast,
To his great surprise,
There was a cat,
On the hearth-rug in front of the fire,
Looking into it,
And blinking lazily.
Now,
The old gentleman had never had any animal in his house before,
And he at once went to it and said,
Shoo!
Shoo!
And tried to turn it out.
But the cat did not move,
And when the old gentleman looked at it nearer,
He could not help admiring it very much.
It was a very large cat,
Grey and black,
And had extremely long,
Soft hair,
And a thick,
Soft ruff round its neck.
Moreover,
It looked very well fed and cared for,
And as if it had always lived in comfortable places.
Somehow it seemed to the old gentleman to suit the room and the rug and the fire,
And to make the whole place look more prosperous and cozy even than it had done before.
A fine creature!
A very handsome cat,
He said to himself.
I should really think that a reward would be offered for such an animal,
As it has evidently been well looked after and fed,
So it would be a pity to turn it away in a hurry.
One thing struck him as very funny about the cat,
And that was that though the ground was deep in snow and slush outside,
The cat was quite dry,
And its fur looked as if it had been combed and brushed.
The old gentleman called to his cook and asked if he knew how the cat had come in,
But she declared she had not seen it before,
And she said she believed it must have come down the chimney,
As all the doors and windows had been shut and bolted.
However,
There it was,
And when his own breakfast was finished,
The old gentleman gave it a large saucer of milk,
Which it lapped up not greedily or in a hurry,
But as if it were quite used to good food,
And had had plenty of it always.
It really is a very handsome animal,
And most uncommon,
Said the old gentleman.
I shall keep it a while,
And look out for the reward.
But though he looked at all the notices in the street and in the newspapers,
The old gentleman could see no notice about a reward being offered for a grey and black cat,
So it stayed on with him from day to day.
Every day the cat seemed to his master to grow more and more handsome.
The old gentleman never loved anything but himself,
But he began to take a sort of interest in the strange cat,
And to wonder what sort it was,
If it was a Persian,
Or a Siamese,
Or some curious new sort of which he had never heard.
He liked the sound of its lazy,
Contented purring after its food,
Which seemed to speak of nothing but comfort and affluence.
So the cat remained on till nearly a year had passed away.
It was not very long before Christmas,
That an acquaintance of the old gentleman's came to his rooms on business.
He knew a great deal about all sorts of animals and loved them for their own sakes,
But of course he had never talked to the old gentleman about them,
Because he knew he did not love anything.
But when he saw the grey cat,
He said at once,
Do you know that this is a very valuable creature,
And I should think would be worth a great deal?
At these words the old gentleman's heart beat high.
Here,
He thought,
Would be a piece of great luck,
If a stray cat could make him richer than he was before.
Why,
Who would want to buy it?
He said.
I don't know anybody who would be so foolish as to give any money for a cat,
Which is of no use in life except to catch mice,
When you can so easily get one for nothing.
Ah,
But many people are very fond of cats,
And would give much for rare sorts like this.
If you want to sell it,
The right thing would be to send it to the cat show,
And there you would most likely take a price for it,
And then someone would be sure to buy it,
And,
It may be,
Would give a great deal.
I don't know what kind it is,
Or where it comes from,
For I have never seen one the least like it,
But for that reason,
It is very sure to be valuable.
Upon this,
The old gentleman almost laughed with joy.
Where is the cat show?
He asked,
And when is it to be held?
There will be a cat show in this city quite soon,
Said his acquaintance,
And it will be a particularly good one,
For the new princess is quite crazy about cats,
And she is coming to it,
And it is said that she doesn't mind what she gives for a cat if she sees one she likes.
So then he told the old gentleman how he should send his name and the cat's name to the people who manage the show,
And where it was to be held,
And went away,
Leaving the old gentleman well pleased,
But to himself he laughed and said,
I don't think that old man thinks of anything on earth but making money.
How pleased he was at the idea of selling that beautiful cat if he could get something for it.
When he had gone,
The great post came and rubbed itself about his master's legs,
And looked up in his face as though it had understood the conversation and did not like the idea of being sent to the show.
But the old gentleman was delighted,
And sat by the fire and mused on what he was likely to get for the cat,
And wondered if it would not take a price.
I shall be sorry to have to send it away,
He said.
Still,
If I could get a good round sum of money,
It would be a real sin not to take it.
So you will have to go,
Puss,
And it really was extraordinary good luck for me that you ever came here.
The days passed,
And Christmas Day came,
And again the snow fell and the ground was white.
The wind whistled and blew,
And on Christmas morning,
The old gentleman stood and looked out of the window at the falling snow and rain,
And the grey cat stood beside him and rubbed itself against his hand.
He rather liked stroking it,
It was so soft and comfortable,
And when he touched the long hair,
He always thought of how much money he should get for it.
This morning he saw no old beggar man outside the window,
And he said to himself,
I really think they manage better with the beggars than they used to,
And are clearing them from the town.
But just as he was leaving the window,
He heard something scratching outside,
And there crawled on the windowsill another cat.
It was a very different creature to the grey cat on the rug.
It was a poor,
Thin,
Wretched-looking animal,
With ribs sticking through its fur,
And it mewed in the most pathetic manner and beat itself against the pane.
When it saw it,
The handsome grey puss was very much excited,
And ran to and fro and purred loudly.
Oh,
You disgraceful-looking beast,
Said the old gentleman angrily.
Go away,
This is not the place for an animal like you.
There is nothing here for stray cats,
And you look as if you had not eaten anything for months.
How different to my puss here!
And he tapped against the window to drive it away.
But still it would not go,
And the old gentleman felt very indignant,
For the sound of its mewing was terrible.
So he opened the window,
And though he did not like to touch the miserable animal,
He took it up and hurled it away into the snow,
And it trotted away,
And in the deep snow he could not see the way it went.
But that evening,
After he had had his Christmas dinner,
As he sat by the fire with the grey puss on the hearth rug beside him,
He heard again the noise outside the window,
And then he heard the stray cat crying and mewing to be let in,
And again the grey and black cat became very much excited,
And dashed about the room,
And jumped at the window as if it wanted to open it.
I shall really be quite glad when I have sold you at the cat show,
Said the old gentleman,
If I am going to have all sorts of stray cats worrying here.
And for the second time he opened the window,
And seized the trembling half-starved creature,
And this time he threw it with all his might as hard as he could throw.
And now there's an end of you,
I hope,
He said as he heard it fall,
And settled himself again in his armchair,
And the grey puss returned to the hearth rug,
But it did not purr or rub itself against its master.
Next morning,
When he came down to breakfast,
The old gentleman poured out a saucer of milk for his cat as usual.
You must be well fed if you are going to be shown at the show,
He said,
And I must not mind a little extra expense to make you look well.
It will all be paid back,
So this morning you shall have some fish as well as your milk.
Then he put the saucer of milk down by the cat,
But it never touched it,
But sat and looked at the fire with its tail curled around it.
Oh,
Well,
If you have had so much already that you don't want it,
You can take it when you do.
So he went away to his work and left the saucer of milk by the fire.
But when he came back in the evening,
There was a saucer of milk and the piece of fish,
And the grey cat had not touched them.
This is rather odd,
Said the old gentleman.
However,
I suppose the cook has been feeding you.
Next morning,
It was just the same.
When he poured out the milk,
The cat wouldn't lap it,
But sat and looked at the fire.
The old gentleman felt a little anxious,
For he fancied that the animal's fur did not look so bright as usual.
And when in the evening,
And the next day and the next,
It would not lap its milk,
Or even smell the nice pieces of fish he gave it,
He was really uncomfortable.
The creature's getting ill,
He said,
And this is most provoking.
What will be the use of my having kept it for a year,
If now I cannot show it?
He scolded his cook for having given it unwholesome food.
But the cook swore it had had nothing.
Anyhow,
It was growing terribly thin,
And all day long it sat in front of the fire,
With its tail hanging down,
Not curled up neatly round it,
And its coat looked dull,
And began to come out in big tufts of hair.
Now really,
I shall have to do something,
Said the old gentleman.
It is enough to make anyone angry.
No one would believe that this could be a prize cat.
It looks almost as wretched as that stray beast that came to the window on Christmas Day.
So he went to a cat and dog doctor,
Who lived near,
And asked him to come in and see a very beautiful cat which had nothing the matter with it,
But which refused to eat its food.
The cat's doctor came and looked at the cat,
And then looked very grave,
And shook his head,
And looked at it again.
I don't know what sort of cat it is,
He said,
For I never saw any other like it.
But it is a very handsome beast,
And must be very valuable.
Well,
I will leave you some physic for it,
And I hope you may be able to pull it round,
But with these foreign cats you never know what ails them,
And they are hard to cure.
Now the day was close at hand,
When the cat should have been sent to the show,
And the old gentleman was getting more and more uneasy,
For the grey cat lay upon the rug all day,
And never moved,
And its ribs could almost be seen through its side,
So thin had it grown.
And oddly enough,
The old gentleman,
Who had never cared for anyone or anything in his life except himself,
Began to feel very unhappy,
Not only because of not getting the money,
But because he did not like to think of losing the cat itself.
He sent for his friend,
Who had first told him about the cat show,
And asked his advice,
But his friend could not tell him what to do with it.
Well,
Well,
He said,
This is a bad business,
For I have told everyone that you are going to exhibit a most extraordinarily beautiful cat,
And now this poor creature is really fit for nothing but the knacker's yard.
I think,
Maybe,
Some naturalist would give you a good price for its skin,
As it is still very uncommon,
And if I were you I should kill it at once,
For if it dies a natural death,
Its skin won't be worth anything.
At these words,
The grey cat lifted its head,
And looked straight into the old gentleman's face,
As if it could understand.
And for the first time for many a long year,
The old gentleman felt a feeling of pity in his heart,
And was angry with his friend for his suggestion.
I won't have it killed,
He cried.
Why,
I declare,
Though it does seem absurd,
I have lived with this creature for a year,
And I feel as if it were my friend,
And if it would only get well and sit up on the hearth rug,
I shouldn't mind about the money one bit.
At this his friend was greatly astonished,
And went away wondering,
While the old gentleman sat by the fire,
And watched the cat lying panting on the rug.
Poor pussy,
Poor old pussy,
He said.
It is a pity that you can't speak and tell me what you want.
I am sure I would give it to you.
Just as he spoke,
There came a noise outside,
And he heard a mewing,
And looking through the window,
He saw the same thin,
Ugly brown cat that had come there last Christmas,
And it looked as thin and wretched as ever.
When she heard the sound,
The grey cat stood up on her tottering feet and tried to walk to the window.
This time,
The old gentleman did not drive it away,
But looked at it,
And almost felt sorry for it.
It looked almost as thin and ill as his own grey puss.
You are an ugly brute,
He said,
And I don't want you always hanging about.
Still,
Maybe you would be none the worse for a little milk now,
And it might make you look better.
So he opened the window a little,
And then he shut it,
And then he opened it again,
And this time the brown cat crawled into the room and went straight to the hearth rug to the grey puss.
There was a big saucer of milk on the hearth rug,
And the brown cat began to lap at once,
And the old gentleman never stopped it.
He thought as he watched it that it grew fatter under his eyes as it drank,
And when the saucer was empty,
He took a jug and gave it some more.
I really am an old fool,
He said.
That is a whole pan worth of milk.
No sooner had he poured out the fresh milk than the grey cat raised itself,
And sitting down by the saucer began to lap it as well,
As if it were quite well.
The old gentleman stared with surprise.
Well,
This is the strangest thing,
He said.
So he took some fish and gave it to the strange cat,
And then,
When he offered some to his own puss,
It ate it as if there was nothing the matter.
This is most remarkable,
Said the old gentleman.
Perhaps it was the company of a creature of its own sort that my cat needed after all,
And the grey cat purred and began to rub itself against his legs.
So for the next few days,
The two cats lay together on the hearth rug,
And though it was too late to send the grey cat to the show,
The old gentleman never thought about it.
So pleased was he that it had got well again.
But seven nights after the stray cat had come in from outside,
As the old gentleman lay asleep in bed at night,
He felt something rub itself against his face,
And heard his cat purring softly as though it wanted to say goodbye.
Be quiet,
Puss,
And lie still till the morning,
He said.
But when he came down to have his breakfast in the morning,
There sat the brown tabby looking fat and comfortable by the fire.
But the grey cat was not there,
And though they looked for it everywhere,
No one could find it,
Though all the windows and doors had been shut,
So they could not think how it could have got away.
The old gentleman was very unhappy about it,
But he looked at the strange cat on the hearth and said,
It would be unkind now to send this poor thing away,
So it may as well stay here.
When she heard him speaking of its being unkind,
His old cook burst out laughing.
Perhaps,
She said,
T'was a fairy cat,
As it could get away through bolts and locks,
And nothing but a fairy could have taught my master to think of a thing being unkind or not.
I only hope that now he'll think of someone in this world besides himself and his money.
And sure enough,
From that time,
The old gentleman began to forget about his money,
And to care for the people about him.
And it was all the doing of the strange cat,
Who had come from no one knew where,
And gone away to no one knew where.
Once upon a time,
There was a poor labourer,
Who,
Feeling that he had not much longer to live,
Wished to divide his possessions between his son and daughter,
Whom he loved dearly.
So he called to them and said,
Your mother brought me as her dowry two stools and a straw bed.
I have besides,
A hen,
A pot of pinks,
And a silver ring,
Which were given to me by a noble lady,
Who once lodged in my poor cottage.
When she went away,
She said to me,
Be careful of my gifts,
Good man.
See that you do not lose the ring or forget to water the pinks.
As for your daughter,
I promise you that she shall be more beautiful than anyone you ever saw in your life.
Call her Felicia,
And when she grows up,
Give her the ring and the pot of pinks to console her for her poverty.
Take them both then,
My dear child,
He added,
And your brother shall have everything else.
The two children seemed quite contented,
And when their father died they wept for him and divided his possessions as he had told them.
Felicia believed that her brother loved her,
But when she sat down upon one of the stools he said angrily,
Keep your pot of pinks and your ring,
But let my things alone.
I like order in my house.
Felicia,
Who was very gentle,
Said nothing,
But stood up crying quietly,
While Bruno,
For that was her brother's name,
Sat comfortably by the fire.
Presently,
When supper time came,
Bruno had a delicious egg,
And he threw the shell to Felicia,
Saying,
There,
That is all I can give you.
If you don't like it,
Go out and catch frogs.
There are plenty of them in the marsh close by.
Felicia did not answer,
But she cried more bitterly than ever,
And went away to her own little room.
She found it filled with sweet scent of the pinks,
And going up to them she said sadly,
Beautiful pinks,
You are so sweet and so pretty.
You are the only comfort I have left.
Be very sure that I will take care of you and water you well,
And never allow any cruel hand to tear you from your stems.
As she leaned over them,
She noticed that they were very dry,
So taking her pitcher,
She ran off in the clear moonlight to the fountain,
Which was at some distance.
When she reached it,
She sat down upon the brink to rest,
But she had hardly done so when she saw a stately lady coming toward her,
Surrounded by a number of attendants.
Six maids of honor carried her train,
And she leaned upon the arm of another.
When they came near the fountain,
A canopy was spread for her,
Under which was placed a sofa of gold of cloth,
And presently a dainty supper was served,
Upon a table covered with dishes of gold and crystal,
While the wind in the trees and the falling water of the fountain murmured the softest music.
Felicia was hidden in the shade,
Too much astonished by all she saw to venture to move,
But in a few moments the Queen said,
I fancy I see a shepherdess near that tree,
Bitter come hither.
So Felicia came forward and saluted the Queen timidly,
But with so much grace that all were surprised.
What are you doing here,
My pretty child?
Asked the Queen.
Are you not afraid of robbers?
Ah,
Madame,
Said Felicia,
A poor shepherdess who has nothing to lose does not fear robbers.
You are not very rich then,
Said the Queen,
Smiling.
I am so poor,
Answered Felicia,
That a pot of pinks and a silver ring are my only possessions in the world.
But you have a heart,
Said the Queen.
What should you say if anybody wanted to steal that?
I do not know what it is like to lose one's heart,
Madame,
She replied,
But I have always heard that without a heart one cannot live,
And if it is broken,
One must die,
And in spite of my poverty,
I should be sorry not to live.
You are quite right to take care of your heart,
Pretty one,
Said the Queen,
But tell me,
Have you supped?
No,
Madame,
Answered Felicia.
My brother ate all the supper there was.
Then the Queen ordered that a plate should be made for her at the table,
And herself loaded Felicia's plate with good things,
But she was too much astonished to be hungry.
I want to know what you were doing at the fountain so late,
Said the Queen presently.
I came to fetch a pitcher of water for my pinks,
Madame,
She answered,
Stooping to pick up the pitcher which stood beside her,
But when she showed it to the Queen she was amazed to see that it had turned to gold,
All sparkling with great diamonds,
And the water,
Of which it was full,
Was more fragrant than the sweetest roses.
She was afraid to take it until the Queen said,
It's yours,
Felicia,
Go and water your pinks with it,
And let it remind you that the Queen of the woods is your friend.
The shepherdess threw herself at the Queen's feet and thanked her humbly for her gracious words.
Ah,
Madame,
She cried,
If I may beg you to stay here a moment,
I would run and fetch my pot of pinks for you,
They could not fall into better hands.
Go,
Felicia,
Said the Queen,
Stroking her cheek softly,
I will wait here until you come back.
So Felicia took up her pitcher and ran to her little room,
But while she had been away,
Bruno had gone in and taken the pot of pinks,
Leaving a great cabbage in its place.
When she saw the unlucky cabbage,
Felicia was much distressed and did not know what to do,
But at last she ran back to the fountain and,
Kneeling before the Queen,
Said,
Madame,
Bruno has stolen my pot of pinks,
So I have nothing but my silver ring,
But I beg you to accept it as proof of my gratitude.
But if I take your ring,
My pretty shepherdess,
Said the Queen,
You will have nothing left,
And what will you do then?
Ah,
Madame,
She answered simply,
If I have your friendship,
I shall do very well.
So the Queen took the ring and put it on her finger,
And mounted her chariot,
Which was made of coral studded with emeralds and drawn by six milk-white horses,
And Felicia looked after her until the winding of the forest path hid her from her sight,
And then she went back to the cottage,
Thinking over all the wonderful things that had happened.
The first thing she did when she reached her room was to throw the cabbage out of the window,
But she was very much surprised to hear an odd little voice cry out,
Oh,
I am half killed,
And could not tell where it came from,
Because cabbages do not generally speak.
As soon as it was light,
Felicia,
Who was very unhappy about her pot of pinks,
Went out to look for it,
And the first thing she found was the unfortunate cabbage.
She gave it a push with her foot,
Saying,
What are you doing here,
And how dared you put yourself in the place of my pot of pinks?
If I hadn't been carried,
Replied the cabbage,
You may be very sure that I shouldn't have thought of going there.
It made her shiver with fright to hear the cabbage talk,
But he went on,
If you will be good enough to plant me by my comrades again,
I can tell you where your pinks are at this moment,
Hidden in Bruno's bed.
Felicia was in despair when she heard this,
Not knowing how she was to get them back,
But she replanted the cabbage very kindly in his old place,
And,
As she finished doing it,
She saw Bruno's hen,
And said,
Catching hold of it,
Come here,
Horrid little creature,
You shall suffer for all the unkind things my brother has done to me.
Ah,
Shepherdess,
Said the hen,
Don't kill me,
I am rather a gossip,
And I can tell you some surprising things that you will like to hear.
Don't imagine that you are the daughter of the poor laborer who brought you up.
Your mother was a queen,
Who had six girls already,
And the king threatened that unless she had a son who could inherit his kingdom,
She should have her head cut off.
So when the queen had another little daughter,
She was quite frightened,
And agreed with her sister who was a fairy,
To exchange her for the fairy's little son.
Now the queen had been shut up in a great tower by the king's orders,
And when a great many days went by,
And still she heard nothing from the fairy,
She made her escape from the window by means of a rope ladder,
Taking her little baby with her.
After wandering about until she was half dead with cold and fatigue,
She reached this cottage.
I was the laborer's wife,
And was a good nurse,
And the queen gave you into my charge,
And told me all her misfortunes,
And then died before she had time to say what was to become of you.
As I never in all my life could keep a secret,
I could not help telling this strange tale to my neighbors,
And one day a beautiful lady came here and I told it to her also.
When I had finished,
She touched me with a wand she held in her hand,
And instantly I became a hen,
And there was an end of my talking.
I was very sad,
And my husband,
Who was out when it happened,
Never knew what had become of me.
After seeking me everywhere,
He believed that I must have been drowned,
Or eaten up by wild beasts in the forest.
That same lady came here once more,
And commanded that you should be called Felicia,
And left the ring and the pot of pinks to be given to you,
And while she was in the house,
Twenty-five of the king's guards came to search for you,
Doubtless meaning to kill you,
But she muttered a few words,
And immediately they all turned into cabbages.
It was one of them whom you threw out of your window yesterday.
I don't know how it was that he could speak.
I have never heard either of them say a word before,
Nor have I been able to do it myself until now.
The princess was greatly astonished at the hen's story,
And said kindly,
I am truly sorry for you,
My poor nurse,
And wish it was in my power to restore you to your real form,
But we must not despair.
It seems to me,
After what you have told me,
That something must be going to happen soon.
Just now,
However,
I must go and look for my pinks,
Which I love better than anything in the world.
Bruno had gone out into the forest,
Never thinking that Felicia would search in his room for the pinks,
And she was delighted by his unexpected absence,
And thought to get them back without further trouble.
But as soon as she entered the room,
She saw a terrible army of rats,
Who were guarding the straw bed,
And when she attempted to approach it,
They sprang at her,
Biting and scratching furiously.
Quite terrified,
She drew back,
Crying out,
Oh,
My dear pinks,
How can you stay here in such bad company?
Then she suddenly bethought herself of the pitcher of water,
And,
Hoping that it might have some magic power,
She ran to fetch it,
And sprinkled a few drops over the fierce-looking swarm of rats.
In a moment,
Not a tail or a whisker was to be seen.
Each one had made for his hole as fast as his legs could carry him,
So that the princess could safely take her pot of pinks.
She found them nearly dying for want of water,
And hastily poured all that was left in the pitcher upon them.
As she bent over them,
Enjoying their delicious scent,
A soft voice that seemed to rustle among the leaves said,
Lovely Felicia,
The day has come at last when I may have the happiness of telling you how even the flowers love you and rejoice in your beauty.
The princess,
Quite overcome by the strangeness of hearing a cabbage,
A hen,
And a pink speak,
And by the terrible sight of an army of rats,
Suddenly became very pale and fainted away.
At this moment in came Bruno,
Working hard in the heat had not improved his temper,
And when he saw that Felicia had succeeded in finding her pinks,
He was so angry that he dragged her out into the garden and shut the door upon her.
The fresh air soon made her open her pretty eyes,
And there before stood the Queen of the Woods,
Looking as charming as ever.
You have a bad brother,
She said.
I saw he turned you out.
Shall I punish him for it?
Ah,
No,
Madame,
She said.
I am not angry with him.
But supposing he was not your brother after all,
What would you say then?
Asked the Queen.
Oh,
But I think he must be,
Said Felicia.
What?
Said the Queen.
Have you not heard that you are a princess?
I was told so a little while ago,
Madame.
But how could I believe it without a single proof?
Ah,
Dear child,
Said the Queen.
The way you speak assures me that,
In spite of your humble upbringing,
You are indeed a real princess,
And I can save you from being treated in such a way again.
She was interrupted at this moment by the arrival of a very handsome young man.
He wore a coat of green velvet fastened with emerald clasps and had a crown of pinks on his head.
He knelt upon one knee and kissed the Queen's hand.
Ah,
She cried,
My pink,
My dear son,
What a happiness to see you restored to your natural shape by Felicia's aid,
And she embraced him joyfully.
Then turning to Felicia,
She said,
Charming princess,
I know all the hen told you,
But you cannot have heard that the Zephyrs to whom was entrusted the task of carrying my son to the tower where the Queen,
Your mother,
So anxiously waited for him,
Left him instead in a garden of flowers,
While they flew off to tell your mother,
Whereupon a fairy,
With whom I had quarreled,
Changed him into a pink,
And I could do nothing to prevent it.
You can imagine how angry I was,
And how I tried to find some means of undoing the mischief she had done,
But there was no help for it.
I could only bring Prince Pink to the place where you were being brought up,
Hoping that when you grow up he might love you,
And by your care be restored to his natural form.
And you see,
Everything has come right,
As I hoped it would.
Your giving me the silver ring was the sign that the power of the charm was nearly over,
And my enemy's last chance was to frighten you with her army of rats.
That she did not succeed in doing,
So now,
My dear Felicia,
If you will be married to my son with this silver ring,
Your future happiness is certain.
Do you think him handsome and amiable enough to be willing to marry him?
" "'Madame,
' replied Felicia,
Blushing,
"'you overwhelm me with your kindness.
I know that you are my mother's sister,
And that by your art you turned the soldiers who were sent to kill me into cabbages and my nurse into a hen,
And that you do me only too much honor in proposing that I shall marry your son.
How can I explain to you the cause of my hesitation?
I feel,
For the first time in my life,
How happy it would make me to be loved.
Can you indeed give me the prince's heart?
' "'It is yours already,
Lovely princess,
' he cried,
Taking her hand in his.
But for the horrible enchantment which kept me silent,
I should have told you long ago how dearly I love you.
' This made the princess very happy,
And the queen,
Who could not bear to see her dress like a poor shepherdess,
Touched her with her wand,
Saying,
"'I wish you to be attired as befits your rank and beauty.
' And immediately the princess's cotton dress became a magnificent robe of silver brocade embroidered with carbuncles,
And her soft dark hair was encircled by a crown of diamonds from which floated a clear white veil.
With her bright eyes and the charming color in her cheeks,
She was altogether such a dazzling sight that the prince could hardly bear it.
"'How pretty you are,
Felicia,
' he cried.
"'Don't keep me in suspense.
I entreat you,
Say that you will marry me.
' "'Ah,
' said the queen,
Smiling,
"'I think she will not refuse now.
' Just then,
Bruno,
Who was going back to his work,
Came out of the cottage and thought he must be dreaming when he saw Felicia,
But she called him very kindly and begged the queen to take pity on him.
"'What?
' she said.
"'When he was so unkind to you?
' "'Ah,
Madame,
' said the princess,
"'I am so happy that I should like everybody else to be happy too.
' The queen kissed her and said,
"'Well,
To please you,
Let me see what I can do for this cross,
Bruno.
' And with a wave of her wand,
She turned the poor little cottage into a splendid palace,
Full of treasures.
Only the two stools and the straw bed remained just as they were to remind him of his former poverty.
Then the queen touched Bruno himself and made him gentle and polite and grateful,
And he thanked her and the princess a thousand times.
Lastly,
The queen restored the hen and the cabbages to their natural forms and left them all very contented.
The prince and princess were married as soon as possible with great splendor and lived happily ever after.
The king had a daughter who was beautiful beyond measure,
But she was also proud and arrogant,
Thinking no suitor was ever good enough for her.
One after another,
She rejected them all and mocked them as well.
One day,
The king held a grand feast and invited all the eligible young men from near and far who might be suitable husbands.
They arranged in order of their rank.
First came the kings,
Then the grand dukes,
Then the princes,
The earls,
The barons,
And the noble gentlemen.
The king's daughter was led through their ranks,
But she found fault with each one.
One was too fat,
Like a wine cask,
She scoffed.
Another was too tall,
Long and thin,
But little within.
The next was too short,
Short and stout,
Quick to pout.
And one was too pale,
As pale as a ghost.
And one was not straight enough,
A crooked stick dried behind the stove.
She had something cruel to say about each of them,
But she laughed the loudest at a good and noble king who stood among the highest in rank.
His chin had grown slightly crooked,
And she mocked him loudly.
Look at him,
He has a chin like a bristly old bear.
And from that day forward,
He was known as King Grizzlybeard.
The old king saw how his daughter humiliated and ridiculed every suitor and grew furious.
Enough,
He roared.
You have mocked every man who has come for your hand,
And I will tolerate it no longer.
You will marry the very first beggar who comes to my door.
A few days later,
A poor fiddler came to the castle and sang beneath the windows,
Hoping for alms.
The king summoned him and said,
Come inside and sing for me and my daughter.
So the fiddler stood before them in his ragged clothes and played his song.
When he finished,
He humbly asked for a small reward.
Your song has pleased me well,
The king said,
So I shall give you my daughter as a wife.
The princess gasped in horror,
But her father would not hear another word.
I made an oath that I would give you the first beggar who came to my door,
And I will keep my word.
She pleaded with him,
But it was no use.
The priest was called at once,
And she was wedded to the beggar on the spot.
When the ceremony was over,
The king said,
It's not fitting for a beggar's wife to remain in the palace.
Go now with your husband to your new home.
The fiddler took her by the hand,
And she had no choice but to leave.
They walked a long way until they reached a great forest.
She gazed at the trees in wonder.
Whose beautiful forest is this,
She asked.
It belongs to King Grizzlybeard.
If you had married him,
It would have been yours.
She sighed.
Oh,
How foolish I was,
If I only had taken King Grizzlybeard.
They walked on until they reached a meadow,
And again she asked,
Who owns this beautiful green land?
It belongs to King Grizzlybeard.
If you had married him,
It would have been yours.
Again she sighed.
Oh,
If only I had chosen King Grizzlybeard.
Then they reached a great city.
She looked at the bustling streets and grand buildings.
Whose city is this?
It belongs to King Grizzlybeard.
If you had married him,
It would have been yours.
She wrung her hands.
Oh,
How I regret my pride.
If only I had chosen King Grizzlybeard.
The fiddler stopped and frowned.
It does not please me to hear you constantly wishing for another husband.
Am I not good enough for you?
At last,
They reached a tiny run-down cottage.
Oh dear,
She said.
What a miserable little place.
Whose home is this?
This is our home,
The fiddler said,
Where we shall live together.
She had to stoop to fit through the low door.
Where are the servants?
She asked.
Servants?
He scoffed.
You must do the work yourself.
Start by lighting a fire and preparing supper,
For I am tired and hungry.
But the princess had never cooked before.
She had no idea how to start a fire.
So the fiddler had to help her.
Their meal was poor and simple.
And that night,
She lay on a straw mattress instead of a fine feather bed.
And early the next morning,
He made her rise and do household chores.
For a few days,
She struggled to manage.
But soon their provisions ran out.
The fiddler said,
Wife,
We cannot live on nothing.
You must learn to work.
Try weaving baskets.
He cut willow branches for her,
But they were so rough that they cut her delicate hands.
This will not do,
He sighed.
Try spinning thread.
She tried,
But the rough fibers cut her fingers,
And she cried out in pain.
You are hopeless,
The fiddler said.
Then you must sell pots in the marketplace.
She hesitated,
Afraid that the people from her father's kingdom might recognize her.
But she had no choice.
The first day,
People bought from her out of pity.
But when she returned with more pots,
Disaster struck.
A drunken soldier rode through the market and trampled all her wares to pieces.
She ran home in tears.
What will we do now?
Who told you to sit at the marketplace corner,
The fiddler scolded?
You are fit for nothing.
I have asked the king's palace if they need a servant.
They have agreed to take you as a kitchen maid.
At least you will have food there.
And so,
The once proud princess became a lowly kitchen maid.
She had to do the dirtiest work,
And she kept her scraps of food in two little jars tied to her waist.
One day,
A grand wedding feast was being held for the king's eldest son.
The princess stood by the doorway,
Watching the splendid guests enter,
Each more beautiful than the last.
She thought bitterly about her fate,
Regretting how her pride had brought her so low.
As she stood there,
Watching the grand celebration,
A man entered the hall,
Dressed in the finest velvet and gold.
She barely had time to take in his regal presence before he reached out and took her hand.
Come and dance with me,
He said warmly.
She froze.
His voice was familiar.
She looked up and gasped in shock.
The noble man standing before her,
The one everyone called the king's son,
Was none other than the king grizzly-beard himself.
The very man she had mocked,
The very man she had scorned,
And the truth dawned on her all at once.
The very same fiddler she'd been living with all this time.
As he pulled her into the hall,
The string around her waist snapped and her little jars of food fell,
Spilling scraps and soup onto the floor.
The guests laughed and she burned with shame,
Wishing the earth would swallow her whole.
She turned to flee,
But king grizzly-beard stopped her.
Do not be afraid.
The beggar you married,
The soldier who broke your pots,
It was all me.
I did this to humble your pride and teach you kindness.
She wept bitterly.
I have done terrible wrong.
I'm not worthy to be your wife.
But king grizzly-beard smiled.
Your pride has been tamed,
My sweet,
And your heart has changed.
Let us now truly celebrate our wedding.
The servants dressed her in the finest gown,
And when her father arrived,
He rejoiced to see her changed.
And so,
King grizzly-beard and his bride celebrated a grand wedding,
And they lived happily ever after.
No one intended to leave Martha alone that afternoon,
But it happened that everyone was called away for one reason or another.
Mrs.
McFarland was attending the weekly card party held by the Women's Anti-Gambling League.
Sister Nell's young man had called quite unexpectedly to take her for a long drive.
Papa was at the office as usual.
It was Marianne's day out.
As for Emmeline,
She certainly should have stayed in the house and looked after the little girl,
But Emmeline had a restless nature.
Would you mind,
Miss,
If I just crossed the alley to speak a word to Mrs.
Carlton's girl,
She asked Martha?
Of course not,
Replied the child.
You'd better lock the back door,
Though,
And take the key,
For I shall be upstairs.
Oh,
I'll do that,
Of course,
Miss,
Said the delighted maid,
And ran away to spend the afternoon with her friend,
Leaving Martha quite alone in the big house and locked in into the bargain.
The little girl read a few pages in her new book,
Sewed a few stitches in her embroidery,
And started to play visiting with her favorite dolls.
Then she remembered that in the attic was a doll's playhouse that hadn't been used for months,
So she decided she would dust it and put it in order.
Filled with this idea,
The girl climbed the winding stairs to the big room under the roof.
It was well lighted by three dormer windows and was warm and pleasant.
Around the walls were rows of boxes and trunks,
Piles of old carpeting,
Pieces of damaged furniture,
Bundles of discarded clothing,
And other odds and ends of more or less value.
Every well-regulated house has an attic of this sort,
So I need not describe it.
The doll's house had been moved,
But after a search,
Martha found it away over in a corner near the big chimney.
She drew it out and noticed that behind it was a black wooden chest which Uncle Walter had sent over from Italy years and years ago,
Before Martha was born,
In fact.
Mama had told her about it one day,
How there were no key to it,
Because Uncle Walter wished it to remain unopened until he returned home,
And how this wandering uncle,
Who was a mighty hunter,
Had gone into Africa to hunt elephants and had never been heard from afterwards.
The little girl looked at the chest curiously,
Now that it had by accident attracted her attention.
It was quite big,
Bigger even than Mama's traveling trunk,
And was studded all over with tarnished,
Brass-headed nails.
It was heavy,
Too,
For when Martha tried to lift one end of it,
She found she could not stir it a bit,
But there was a place in the side of the cover for a key.
She stooped to examine the lock and saw that it would take rather a big key to open it.
Then,
As you may suspect,
The little girl longed to open Uncle Walter's big box and see what was in it,
For we are all curious and little girls are just as curious as the rest of us.
I don't believe Uncle Walter will ever come back,
She thought.
Papa said once that some elephant must have killed him if I only had a key.
She stopped and clapped her little hands together gaily as she remembered a big basket of keys on the shelf in the linen closet.
There were all sorts and sizes.
Perhaps one of them would unlock the mysterious chest.
She flew down the stairs,
Found the basket and returned with it to the attic.
Then she sat down before the brass-studded box and began trying one key after another in the curious old lock.
Some were too large,
But most were too small.
One would go into the lock,
But would not turn.
Another stuck so fast that she feared for a time that she would never get it out again.
But at last,
When the basket was almost empty,
An oddly shaped,
Ancient brass key slipped easily into the lock.
With a cry of joy,
Martha turned the key with both hands.
Then she heard a sharp click,
And the next moment,
The heavy lid flew open of its own accord.
The little girl leaned over the edge of the chest an instant,
And the sight that met her eyes caused her to start back in amazement.
Slowly and carefully,
A man unpacked himself from the chest,
Stepped out upon the floor,
Stretched his limbs,
And then took off his hat and bowed politely to the astonished child.
He was tall and thin,
And his face seemed badly tanned or sunburnt.
Then another man emerged from the chest,
Yawning and rubbing his eyes like a sleepy schoolboy.
He was of middle size,
And his skin seemed as badly tanned as that of the first.
While Martha stared open-mouthed at the remarkable sight,
A third man crawled from the chest.
He had the same complexion as his fellows,
But was short and fat.
All three were dressed in a curious manner.
They wore short jackets of red velvet braided with gold,
And knee breeches of sky-blue satin with silver buttons.
Over their stockings were laced wide ribbons of red and yellow and blue,
While their hats had broad brims with high-peaked crowns from which fluttered yards of bright-colored ribbons.
They had big gold rings in their ears and rows of knives and pistols in their belts.
Their eyes were black and glittering,
And they wore long,
Fierce mustaches curling at the ends like a pig's tail.
"'My,
But you were heavy!
' exclaimed the fat one,
When he had pulled down his velvet jock and brushed the dust from his sky-blue breeches.
"'And you squeezed me all out of shape!
' "'It was unavoidable,
Luigi,
' responded the thin man lightly.
"'The lid of the chest pressed me down upon you,
"'yet I tender you my regrets.
' "'As for me,
' said the middle-sized man,
"'carelessly rolling a cigarette and lighting it,
"'you must acknowledge I have been your nearest friend for years,
"'so do not be disagreeable.
' "'You mustn't smoke in the attic,
' said Martha,
"'recovering herself at a sight of the cigarette.
"'You might set the house on fire.
' The middle-sized man,
Who had not noticed her before,
At this speech turned to the girl and bowed.
"'Since a lady requests it,
' said he,
"'I shall abandon my cigarette,
' and he flew it on the floor and extinguished it with his foot.
"'Who are you?
' asked Martha,
Who until now had been too astonished to be frightened.
"'Permit us to introduce ourselves,
' said the thin man,
"'flourishing his hat gracefully.
"'This is Luigi,
' the fat man nodded,
"'and this is Benny,
' the middle-sized man bowed,
"'and I'm Victor.
"'We are three bandits,
Italian bandits.
' "'Bandits!
' cried Martha,
With a look of horror.
"'Exactly.
Perhaps in all the world "'there are not three other bandits "'so terrible and fierce as ourselves,
' said Victor proudly.
"'Tis so,
' said the fat man,
Nodding gravely.
"'But it's wicked!
' exclaimed Martha.
"'Yes,
Indeed,
' replied Victor.
"'We are extremely and tremendously wicked.
"'Perhaps in all the world "'you could not find three men more wicked "'than those who now stand before you.
"'Tis so,
' said the fat man approvingly.
"'But you shouldn't be so wicked,
' said the girl.
"'It's.
.
.
It's naughty!
' "'Victor cast down his eyes and blushed.
"'Naughty!
' gasped Benny,
With a horrified look.
"'Tis a hard word,
' said Luigi,
Sadly,
"'and buried his face in his hands.
"'I little thought,
' murmured Victor,
"'in a voice broken by emotion,
"'ever to be so reviled,
And by a lady.
"'Yet,
Perhaps you spoke thoughtlessly.
"'You must consider,
Miss,
"'that our wickedness has an excuse.
"'For how are we to be bandits,
Let me ask,
"'unless we're wicked?
' "'Martha was puzzled and shook her head thoughtfully.
"'Then she remembered something.
"'You can't remain bandits any longer,
' said she,
"'because you're now in America.
' "'America!
' cried the three together.
"'Certainly.
"'You're on Prairie Avenue in Chicago.
"'Uncle Walter sent you here from Italy in this chest.
' "'The bandits seemed greatly bewildered "'by this announcement.
"'Luigi sat down on an old chair with a broken rocker "'and wiped his forehead with a yellow silk handkerchief.
"'Benny and Victor fell back upon the chest "'and looked at her with pale faces and staring eyes.
"'When he had somewhat recovered himself,
"'Victor spoke.
"'Your Uncle Walter has greatly wronged us,
' "'he said reproachfully.
"'He has taken us from our beloved Italy "'where bandits are highly respected "'and brought us to a strange country "'where we shall not know whom to rob "'or how much to ask for a ransom.
' "'Tis so,
' said the fat man,
Slapping his leg sharply.
"'And we had won such fine reputations in Italy,
' "'said Benny regretfully.
"'Perhaps Uncle Walter wanted to reform you,
' "'suggested Martha.
"'Are there,
Then,
No bandits in Chicago?
' asked Victor.
"'Well,
' replied the girl,
Blushing in her turn,
"'we do not call them bandits.
' "'Then what shall we do for a living?
' "'enquired Benny despairingly.
"'A great deal can be done in a big American city,
' "'said the child.
"'My father is a lawyer.
' "'The bandits shuddered,
"'and my mother's cousin is a police inspector.
"'Ah,
' said Victor,
"'that is a good employment.
"'The police need to be inspected,
"'especially in Italy.
' "'Everywhere,
' added Benny.
"'Then you could do other things,
' "'continued Martha encouragingly.
"'You could be motormen on trolley cars "'or clerks in a department store.
"'Some people even become aldermen to earn a living.
' "'The bandits shook their heads sadly.
"'We're not fitted for such work,
' said Victor.
"'Our business is to rob.
' "'Martha tried to think.
"'It is rather hard to get positions "'in the gas office,
' she said.
"'But you might become politicians.
' "'No,
' cried Benny with sudden fierceness.
"'We must not abandon our high calling.
"'Bandits we have always been,
"'and bandits we must remain.
' "'Tis so,
' agreed the fat man.
"'Even in Chicago there must be people to rob,
' "'remarked Victor with cheerfulness.
"'Martha was distressed.
"'I think they have all been robbed,
' she objected.
"'Then we can rob the robbers,
"'for we have experience and talent "'beyond the ordinary,
' said Benny.
"'Oh dear,
Oh dear,
' moaned the girl.
"'Why did Uncle Walter ever send you here in this chest?
' "'The bandits became interested.
"'That is what we should like to know,
' "'declared Victor eagerly.
"'But no one will ever know,
"'for Uncle Walter was lost while hunting elephants in Africa,
' "'she continued with conviction.
"'Then we must accept our fate "'and rob to the best of our ability,
' said Victor.
"'So long as we are faithful to our beloved profession,
"'we need not be ashamed.
' "'Tis so,
' cried the fat man.
"'Brothers,
We will begin now.
"'Let us rob the house we are in.
' "'Good,
' shouted the others and sprang to their feet.
"'Benny turned threateningly upon the child.
"'Remain here,
' he commanded.
"'If you stir one step,
"'your blood will be on your own head.
' "'Benny added in a gentler voice,
"'Don't be afraid.
"'That's the way all bandits talk to their captives.
"'But of course we wouldn't hurt a young lady "'under any circumstances.
' "'Of course not,
' said Victor.
"'The fat man drew a big knife from his belt "'and flourished it about his head.
"'Blood!
' he ejaculated fiercely.
"'Bananas!
' cried Benny in a terrible voice.
"'Confusion to our foes!
' hissed Victor.
"'And then the three bent themselves nearly double "'and crept stealthily down the stairway "'with cocked pistols in their hands "'and glittering knives between their teeth,
"'leaving Martha trembling with fear "'and too horrified to even cry for help.
"'How long she remained alone in the attic she never knew,
"'but finally she heard the cat-like tread "'of the returning bandits "'and saw them coming up the stairs in single file.
"'All bore heavy loads of plunder in their arms,
"'and Luigi was balancing a mince pie "'on the top of a pile of her mother's best evening dresses.
"'Victor came next with an armful of bric-a-brac,
"'a brass candelabra,
And the parlor clock.
"'Benny had the family Bible,
"'the basket of silverware from the sideboard,
"'a copper kettle,
And Papa's fur overcoat.
"'Oh,
Joy!
' said Victor,
Putting down his load.
"'It is pleasant to rob once more.
"'Oh,
Ecstasy!
' said Benny.
"'But he let the kettle drop on his toe "'and immediately began dancing around in anguish "'while he muttered queer words in the Italian language.
"'We have much wealth,
' continued Victor,
"'holding the mince pie "'while Luigi added his spoils to the heat,
"'and all from one house.
"'This America must be a rich place.
' "'With a dagger,
He then cut himself a piece of the pie "'and handed the remainder to his comrades,
"'whereupon all three sat upon the floor "'and consumed the pie while Martha looked on sadly.
"'We should have a cave,
' remarked Benny,
"'for we must store our plunder in a safe place.
"'Can you tell us of a secret cave?
' he asked Martha.
"'There is a mammoth cave,
' she answered,
"'but it's in Kentucky.
"'You would be obliged to ride on the cars "'a long time to get there.
' "'The three bandits looked thoughtfully "'and munched their pie silently,
"'but the next moment they were startled "'by the ringing of the electric doorbell,
"'which was heard plainly even in the remote attic.
"'What's that?
' demanded Victor in a hoarse voice "'as the three scrambled to their feet with drawn daggers.
"'Martha ran to the window and saw it was only the postman "'who had dropped a letter in the box and gone away again,
"'but the incident gave her an idea "'of how to get rid of her troublesome bandits,
"'so she began wringing her hands "'as if in great distress and cried out,
"'It's the police!
' "'The robbers looked at one another with genuine alarm "'and Luigi asked tremblingly,
"'Are there many of them?
' "'A hundred and twelve!
' exclaimed Martha "'after pretending to count them.
"'Then we are lost,
' declared Benny,
"'for we could never fight so many and live.
"'Are they armed?
' inquired Victor,
"'who was shivering as if cold.
"'Oh yes,
' said she,
"'they have guns and swords and pistols and axes and.
.
.
"'And what?
' demanded Luigi.
"'And cannons.
' "'The three wicked ones groaned aloud "'and Benny said in a hollow voice,
"'I hope they will kill us quickly "'and not put us to the torture.
"'I have been told these Americans are painted Indians "'who are bloodthirsty and terrible.
' "'Tis so,
' gasped the fat man with a shudder.
"'Suddenly,
Martha turned from the window.
"'You are my friends,
Are you not?
' she asked.
"'We are devoted,
' answered Victor.
"'We adore you,
' cried Benny.
"'We would die for you,
' added Luigi,
"'thinking he was about to die anyway.
' "'Then I will save you,
' said the girl.
"'How?
' asked the three with one voice.
"'Get back into the chest,
' she said.
"'I will then close the lid "'so they will be unable to find you.
' "'They looked around the room in a dazed and irresolute way,
"'but she exclaimed,
"'You must be quick.
"'They will be here soon to arrest you.
' "'Then Luigi sprang into the chest "'and lay flat upon the bottom.
"'Benny tumbled in next "'and packed himself in the back side.
"'Victor followed after pausing "'to kiss her hand to the girl in a graceful manner.
"'Then Martha ran up to press down the lid "'but could not make it catch.
"'You must squeeze down,
' she said to them.
"'Luigi groaned.
"'I'm doing my best,
Miss,
' said Victor,
"'who was nearest to the top.
"'But although we fitted in very nicely before,
"'the chest now seems rather small for us.
' "'Tis so,
' came the muffled voice "'of the fat man from the bottom.
"'I know what takes up the room,
' said Benny.
"'What?
' inquired Victor anxiously.
"'The pie,
' returned Benny.
"'Tis so,
' came from the bottom in faint accents.
"'Then Martha sat upon the lid "'and pressed it down with all her weight.
"'To her great delight,
The lock caught,
"'and,
Springing down,
"'she exerted all her strength and turned the key.
'" Once upon a time,
During a great battle which was fought through the night in a tempest of lightning and rain,
A brave young grenadier came upon one of the enemy lying sorely wounded on the field.
Taking pity upon his foeman,
The soldier bound up his wounds and carried him from the battle to the shelter of a little wood.
Scarce had the wounded youth opened his eyes when amid a blinding flash of lightning and a peal of tumbling thunder,
A green chariot drawn by green dragons rushed downward through the hurrying clouds and sank to the earth at the soldier's side.
Bidding the dragons be still,
A tall,
Dark,
And stately man wearing a long green mantle descended from the chariot,
Took the wounded lad in his arms,
And thus addressed the grenadier.
"'Generous friend,
"'to you I owe the life of my youngest son.
"'I am the enchanter of the green glen.
"'Take you this little green wand "'in memory of the great debt I owe you.
"'Whatsoever you strike once with it "'will continue to grow larger till you cry stop.
"'Whatsoever you strike twice with it "'will grow smaller till you bid the magic cease.
"'Farewell,
Brave soldier,
"'and may good fortune walk forever by your side.
'" Then,
Wrapping his wide green mantle about the body of his son,
The wizard bade his scaly,
Yellow-eyed dragons be on their way and vanished on high in the tempest and the dark.
And now the wars were over and done,
And the soldier found himself mustered out and turned loose to earn his living in the world.
Still clad in his grenadier's uniform and wearing his blue-gray coat buttoned close about him,
He slung his knapsack to his shoulder,
Fastened it to his belt in front by crossed straps of white leather,
Put on his big shiny hat,
And turned from the camp over the hills and far away.
It was the early autumn of the year,
Great roaring gusts swept by overhead,
Singing shrilly through the withered leaves still clinging to the branches.
Apples lay red-ripe in the frost-nipped grass,
And the country folk were gleaning in the stubble of the fields.
On through the villages went the soldier,
Hoping to find work for the winter among the farms.
He knocked at this door and at that,
But ever in vain.
Presently,
The mighty summits of the adamant mountains,
Gleaming with new-fallen snow,
Rose beyond the bare woods and the lonely fields.
Following the great royal road,
The soldier tramped on into the very heart of the mountain mass.
Perhaps I shall meet with better luck in the kingdoms beyond the peaks,
Thought the grenadier as he trudged along.
How still it was!
Now the soldier could hear the roaring of the river in the gorge below the road.
Now the cry of the eagles circling high above some desolate crag.
At high noon on the third day,
The soldier arrived at the brazen column which marks the descent of the royal road to the kingdoms beyond the hills.
A biting wind,
Keen with the smell of snow,
Blew from the surrounding peaks and made the soldier very hungry indeed.
Sheltering himself against the giant column,
He slipped his knapsack from his shoulder and looked within for the last of the bread and cheese which a good wife of the mountain villages had given him the day before.
Alas,
There was but the tiniest crust of bread to be found and the littlest crumb of cheese.
Suddenly,
As he fished about in the sack,
The grenadier discovered the little green wand.
He had quite forgotten it.
An ocean came into his head to try the magic,
And he struck the bit of bread one smart tap.
The moment he did so,
The fragment of bread bounced a few inches into the air and fell back to the ground.
Soon it was the size of a loaf of bread.
A moment or two later,
The loaf had grown to the size of a table.
Soon the mass of bread was the size of a small house and it was growing,
Growing,
Growing.
Stop,
Cried the soldier.
The magic ceased.
The soldier struck the mountain of bread twice.
Again it leaped into the air,
But this time it began to grow less.
Like to a candle end in the fire,
It began to vanish before the soldier's eyes.
Presently it was once more the size of a generous loaf,
And thus the soldier bade it remain.
Next he enchanted the bit of cheese to an ample size and found himself provided with victuals fit for a king.
Later,
When he had eaten his fill,
He amused himself by enchanting the pebble into a great rock,
And that rock may be seen in the Adamant Mountains to this very day.
At the end of a week's journey,
The soldier reached the Golden Plain,
Which lies between the Adamant Mountains and the sea.
Now at the time of the soldier's arrival,
The people of the Golden Plain were being day by day swept to hunger and ruin by the devastation wrought throughout their land by a Hippodrach.
Driven by hunger,
So some thought,
From its stony lair in the forests of the sun,
This terrible creature had suddenly swooped down on the harvest fields a month before and had roamed the land till the precious grain had for the most part been consumed or destroyed.
Worst yet,
The Hippodrach was even then breaking open the royal granaries in which lay such grain as the citizens had been able to store away.
This terrible creature,
I must tell you,
Was kind of a fearsome winged horse.
It was larger than any earthly animal,
Black as midnight in color,
And armored over the chest and head with a sheath of dragon scales.
Add to this a pair of giant wings,
Black and lustrous as a raven's,
A wicked horse-like head with huge jaws,
Hoofs of blue steel and an appetite like a devouring flame,
And you will see that the people of the Golden Plain had true cause for alarm.
Black wings outspread,
Blue hooves plunging,
Roaring from its fiery pits of its violet nostrils,
The Hippodrach was master in the land.
In the hope of ridding themselves of the monster,
The people of the Golden Plain offered a huge treasure to whosoever might conquer the invader.
In true soldier fashion,
The grenadier resolved to fight the Hippodrach and win fame and fortune at a blow.
Now,
The Lord Chancellor of the realm,
Who ruled the land during the minority of the Princess Mirabelle,
Had no intention whatever of paying the promised reward.
Not only had this wicked man stolen so much money from the royal treasury that scarce was a penny left,
But also was he miserly,
Cruel and avaricious.
Torn between fear of the Hippodrach and fear of having to empty his own money bags of the stolen gold in order to pay the reward,
The Chancellor wandered back and forth all day through the castle halls.
Thus far,
However,
No one had ever returned to claim the treasure.
After talking with some who had seen the Hippodrach,
The soldier retired to a little inn to make his plans.
Sitting alone in a great settle by the fire,
He watched the flames grow ruddier as the afternoon sun sank below the western hills.
Presently it was night.
A night quiet,
Cool and bright with great winter stars.
The grenadier made his way unobserved out of the royal city and soon arrived in the midst of the ruined and trampled fields.
Here the grain had been gathered,
Bound in sheaves,
And left to perish when the harvesters fled.
Here the uncut stalks had withered in the ground.
Here stood a house from which everyone had run for his life.
Presently the soldier beheld,
Standing apart on a lonely hill,
The crumbling towers of the ruined castle which served as the Hippodrach's den.
A late,
Wasted half-moon began to rise.
The soldier made his way up the slope and peered through the doorless portal into the moonlit ruin.
At the end of the great entrance hall of the castle,
Its monstrous head resting on the lowest step of the winding stair which led to the roofless banquet hall above,
Lay the monster.
The rays of the waning moon,
Slanting through the broken tracery of a great window,
Fell on its vast bulk.
A rumbling breathing alone disturbed the starry silence of the night.
I must make my way down those stairs,
Said the grenadier to himself,
And crept off to seek a way to the banqueting hall above.
Finally,
He managed to find a little stairway in a ruined turret.
Creeping along softly,
Ever so softly,
Over the floor of the banqueting hall,
He reached the head of the great stair and looked down its curving steps to the monster asleep below.
Then,
Step by step by step,
The grenadier approached the Hippodrach.
Suddenly,
The soldier's foot dislodged a piece of clattering stone.
The Hippodrach awoke with a scream,
But the soldier struck it two swift taps with the green little wand.
The instant he did so,
The Hippodrach uttered a cry of fright and rage which waked the good folk of the city in their beds and bounced,
Wings beating wildly in the air.
The grenadier took refuge at the head of the balustrade.
Smaller and smaller grew the furious and bewildered beast.
Now it had shrunk to the size of a pony.
Now it had dwindled to the size of a dog.
Now it was scarce larger than a kitten.
Stop,
Cried the grenadier.
Wild with fright,
The tiny monster took wing and fluttered like a terrified bird into a corner of the ruins.
And there,
Beating about and flapping its wings madly,
The grenadier caught it in his high hat and shook it into his knapsack.
This done,
He walked swiftly back to the inn and went to bed.
Now,
One of the Lord Chancellor's rascals had been on watch for his return,
And when the grenadier returned with the light of victory in his eyes,
The spy ran to inform his rogue of a master.
Suspecting magic of some kind,
The wicked Chancellor made his way to the inn and stole the green wand while the soldier slept.
Early the next morning,
The soldier sent word to the councillors of the court that he had mastered the Hippodrach and waited their good pleasure to prove the truth of his word.
Within a very short time,
A royal messenger appeared,
Summoning him before the assembled court at the tenth hour.
And now the soldier,
Carrying the tiny Hippodrach in his knapsack,
Was led to the judgment hall of the royal palace.
The Princess Mirabel sat on the throne of the realm,
Whilst the Lord Chancellor stood by her side.
A smile of triumph on his wicked lips.
But the soldier had eyes only for the young princess,
Who was as fair as the first wild rose of the year.
As for the princess,
It must be confessed that she thought the young grenadier,
With the black hair and the blue eyes,
Quite the most pleasant person she had ever seen.
Simply and modestly,
The grenadier told the story of his capture of the Hippodrach.
Leaning forward a little,
The princess listened eagerly.
And your proof of this,
Questioned the Lord Chancellor?
Is here,
Replied the grenadier.
And opening his knapsack,
He took from it the Hippodrach and placed it on the carpet just before the throne.
As the soldier had taken the precaution to clip the monster's wings,
The tiny thing could do naught but dance with rage on its little blue hoofs,
And lashed out madly right and left in a frenzy of fear.
A murmur of astonishment rose from the assembly.
There was a great craning of necks.
All present looked at the Lord Chancellor to hear what he might say.
That little thing,
The great Hippodrach,
Said the Lord Chancellor evilly.
Pooh!
Tis a juggler's kitten,
Rather.
I shall give no reward for this.
You dare,
Cried the grenadier fiercely.
Wait!
And he reached in his pocket for the little green wand.
But,
Alas,
The little green wand was gone.
Pooh!
Said the Chancellor again,
Watching with contented eyes.
The poor grenadier madly thrusting his hands into every pocket.
You see,
He cannot do as he pretends.
The fellow is an imposter.
Hoguards,
Take this rogue and his dancing kitten off to prison.
But it looks like the Hippodrach protested the princess.
No,
Not a bit of it,
Not a bit of it,
Roared the Chancellor.
And he quickly silenced all those who were feigned to see justice done,
By threatening to send another objector to the royal diamond mines in the adamant mountains.
Left to himself in a lonely cell of the royal prison,
The poor grenadier awaited the day of his departure for the mines.
Finding the time hang heavy on his hands,
He amused himself by trying to tame the tiny Hippodrach.
To his surprise and pleasure,
The fierce little creature made a swift response.
Soon it was eating crumbs from his hand.
In a fortnight,
It could spell out words and letters by tapping the floor with its right foreleg.
And day by day,
Its clipped wings grew once more to full size.
Oh,
If you could only get me my green wand again,
Said the soldier one morning.
At these words,
The Hippodrach beat an excited tattoo on the table,
And before the soldier could seize it,
Spread its little gleaming wings and fled through the barred window out into the world.
All day long the soldier waited its return.
It has flown away forever,
He thought,
As twilight fell.
A moment later,
However,
He heard a whirr of tiny wings,
And the Hippodrach returned,
The little green wand in its jaws.
You may well believe that the soldier was overjoyed.
That very night he found means to send a petition to the princess,
Asking to be brought before her that he might at last prove the truth of his story.
Now the Chancellor,
Knowing that his wicked scheme had succeeded,
And never dreaming of the possibility of the grenadier's escape,
Had gone a-hunting.
So the princess took matters into her own hands,
And the next morning summoned the grenadier before the court.
Alas,
Just as the grenadier reached the throne,
The Chancellor,
Hastily summoned by another of his rascally spies,
Came striding angrily into the judgment hall.
What means is this?
He roared.
How came that fellow to be out of prison?
Ho,
Guards,
Take him back at once!
No,
Said the little princess bravely.
I believe in him,
And he shall have justice in my realm.
Do you dare defy me?
Cried the Chancellor.
Guards,
Do your duty.
I am regent here.
A handful of soldiers strode toward the grenadier.
With a smile on his lips and in his eyes,
The grenadier struck the hippodrach one smart tap with the magic wand.
The creature bounced and instantly began to increase in size.
Suddenly it snorted fiercely and reared on its hind legs.
Once again it screamed,
Even such a scream as it had uttered when the grenadier enchanted it in the ruined castle.
People began to fly pal-mel in every direction.
Only Mirabelle,
Who was a lass of spirit,
Stood her ground.
When the hippodrach had reached its full size,
The soldier cried,
Then,
For a moment,
The monster and the man gazed directly into each other's eyes.
The soldier still smiled.
The hippodrach had understood.
Uttering now the angriest cry of all,
The creature darted forward and seized the Lord Chancellor by the scruff of his ugly neck.
Then,
Opening wide its giant wings,
It leaped upon all four legs and,
Flying down the vast hall,
Crashed through a great window and out into the freedom of the cloudless sky.
So terrified was it by its experiences that it flew back to its lair in the forests of the sun and never bothered anybody anymore.
On the way home,
While flying at a great height,
It got bored with carrying the Lord Chancellor and let him drop.
No one has since heard of his personage.
No one ever will.
When the excitement subsided,
The citizens hailed the grenadier as the preserver of their country and offered him the treasure which the Chancellor had stolen away.
But the grenadier had already found a treasure much more to his liking,
The Princess Mirabelle.
The handsome young couple were married with great pomp and ceremony on New Year's Day,
And thus the brave grenadier became a king and,
With Mirabelle by his side,
Ruled over the Golden Plain for many a long and happy year.
There was a young prince who was not only most handsome and well-grown,
But also most kind-hearted and good.
Now sooner or later,
Kindness always meets its reward,
Though it may not seem so at first.
One summer's evening,
The prince was walking on the banks of a lake when he looked up and saw to his great surprise in the air against the rosy clouds of the sunset,
Three beautiful beings with wings.
Not angels,
Nor birds,
But three beautiful damsels.
And,
Having alighted on the ground,
They dropped their wings and their garments and left them lying on the shore and leaped into the cool water and began splashing and playing about in it like so many waterfowl.
As soon as the prince saw this,
He came out from his hiding place in the bushes,
Picked up one pair of wings,
And hid himself again.
When they had been long enough in the water,
The beautiful damsels came again to land and dress themselves quickly.
Two of them soon had on both their white dresses and their wings,
But the youngest could not find hers.
They held a short consultation,
And the result was that the two elder flew away in the shape of birds as fast as they could to fetch another pair of wings for their younger sister.
They soon vanished in the blue sky,
But she remained alone,
Wringing her hands and crying.
What are you crying for,
You lovely maiden?
Asked the prince,
Emerging from the bushes.
Oh,
I am so unhappy,
She replied.
I am a princess of the Brazen Mountain.
My sisters and I came here to bathe in the lake,
And somebody has stolen my wings,
So I must wait here until they bring me another pair.
I am a prince,
He replied.
This is my father's kingdom.
Be my wife,
And I will give you back your wings.
Very well,
She said.
I consent,
Only you must give me back my wings at once.
Let us first go to church and get married,
He answered.
And taking the lovely princess by the hand,
He brought her to his father and mother and asked their permission to marry her.
The king and queen were delighted with their beautiful daughter-in-law,
Gave them their blessing,
And all was got ready for the wedding.
And directly they came back from church,
The prince,
Overcome with joy,
Kissed his bride and gave her back her wings.
She took them joyfully,
Fastened them to her shoulders,
Then flew out of the window and vanished.
All the wedding guests were in consternation.
The king looked very serious,
The queen wept bitterly,
But the prince so grieved after his bride that,
Having obtained his parents' consent,
He went out into the wide world to search for that brazen mountain where he hoped to find her.
He traveled for a long time,
Inquiring about it of everyone he met,
But nobody had ever heard of such a mountain,
And he began to give up all hope of ever finding it.
Late one evening,
He saw a twinkling light before him,
Which he followed in the hope of coming to some habitation.
It led him on a long way across level plains,
Through deep defiles,
And at length some way into a dark forest.
But at last,
He came to whence the light proceeded,
From a solitary hermitage.
He went in,
But found the hermit lying dead,
With six wax candles burning around him.
He had evidently been dead for some time,
Yet there seemed to be nobody near him,
Nor any inhabitants at all in this desolate region.
The prince's first thought was how to get him buried with the proper rites when there was no priest,
Nor indeed any people at all,
To be found in the neighborhood.
While he was thinking over this,
Something fell from a peg in the wall close beside him.
It was a leather whip.
The prince took it up and read on the handle these words,
The Magic Whip.
As he knew its virtue,
He called out,
Ho,
Magical whip,
To right and left skip,
And do what I will.
The whip jumped from his hand,
Became invisible,
And flew away.
In a short time,
There was the hum of a multitude through the forest,
And the head forester entered,
Breathless,
Followed by a crowd of underkeepers and many more people with them.
Some set about making a coffin,
Others began digging a grave,
And the head keeper rode off to fetch a priest,
And as soon as it was dawn,
Mass was said.
The bells began ringing from several far distant churches,
And at sunrise,
The corpse was decently buried.
When the funeral was over,
All the people dispersed to their homes,
And the magical whip returned of itself to the prince's hand.
He stuck it into his girdle and went on,
Till after an hour or two,
He came to a clearing in the forest,
Where twelve men were fighting desperately among themselves.
Stop,
You fellows,
Exclaimed the prince.
Who are you,
And what are you fighting about?
We are robbers,
They replied,
And we are fighting for these boots,
Which were the property of our deceased leader.
Whoever has them can go seven leagues at one step,
And he who gets them will be our leader.
As you are a stranger,
We will abide by your decision as to whom this pair of boots shall belong,
And give you a heap of gold in the bargain for your trouble.
The prince drew on the boots,
Took the magical whip from his girdle,
And said,
Ho,
Magical whip,
To right and left skip,
And do what I will.
The whip jumped from his hand,
Became invisible,
And well thrashed the robbers.
In the midst of the confusion,
The prince made his escape,
And having the boots on,
He went seven miles at every step,
And was soon far enough away from the robbers' den.
But as he was no nearer to finding out where the brazen mountain was,
He had no need to go quite so fast.
So he took off the seven-league boots,
Put them under his arm and the magic whip in his girdle,
And went at his ordinary pace,
Till he came to a narrow path between some rocks,
Where again he came upon twelve men fighting.
They explained that they were fighting for an invisible cap,
Which had belonged to their late leader,
And asked him as a stranger to decide who should have it.
So he set the magical whip as before to work,
And there was a nice confusion among those robbers,
For not seeing where the blows came from,
They fell upon one another,
And at last,
Frightened out of their senses,
They took flight and scattered in all directions.
The prince,
Having put on the invisible cap,
Was able to walk among them and talk to them,
And they all heard,
Though they could not see him.
He now began to consider whether he could not use all these treasures to help him find the brazen mountain.
So he drew on the seven-league boots,
Settled the invisible cap on his forehead,
And taking the magical whip from his girdle,
Said,
O thou wondrous magic whip,
Lead me on,
I'll follow thee.
Onward to brazen mountain lead me,
Where I fain would be.
The whip sprang from his hand.
It did not become invisible this time,
But glided rapidly a little above the ground,
Like a boat over a calm sea.
Though it flew like a bird,
The prince was quite able to keep pace with it,
Because he had on the seven-league boots.
He was scarcely aware of the fact,
When in less than a quarter of an hour,
They came to a standstill at the brazen mountain.
At first,
The prince was overjoyed at having reached the goal of his wishes,
But when he looked more closely at its smooth perpendicular sides,
Hard as adamant,
Its summit lost in the clouds,
He was in despair,
For how was he ever to get to the top of it?
However,
He thought there must be some way up after all.
So taking off his boots and cap,
He set off to walk round the base of the mountain.
In half an hour he came to a mill with twelve millstones.
The miller was an old wizard,
With a long beard down to the ground.
He stood beside a stove,
Whereupon a kettle was boiling,
Stirring the contents with a long iron spoon,
And piling wood on the fire.
The prince looked into the kettle.
Good morning to you,
Gaffer.
What are you doing there?
That's my own business,
Replied the miller,
Gruffly.
What mill is this?
The prince next asked.
That's no business of yours,
Replied the miller.
The prince was not going to be satisfied with this,
So he gave his usual orders to the magical whip,
Which forthwith became invisible,
And began to lash the miller soundly.
He tried to run away,
But it was no use,
Till the prince took pity on him and called the whip back again.
He put it up and then said,
Whose mill is this?
It belongs to the three princesses of the brazen mountain,
Replied the miller.
They let down a rope here every day,
And draw up all the flour they want by the rope.
As he said this,
A thick silken rope came down,
With a loop at the end,
Which struck the threshold of the mill.
The prince made ready,
And when the usual sack of wheat flour was found fast in the loop,
He climbed upon it,
Having first put on his invisible cap,
And was thus drawn up to the top of the brazen mountain.
The three princesses,
Having drawn up their supply of flour,
Put it into their storehouse and went back to their dwelling.
Their palace was most beautiful,
All silver without and all gold within.
All the windows were of crystal,
The chairs and tables were made of diamonds,
And the floors of looking-glass.
The ceilings were like the sky,
With mimic stars and moon shining therein,
And in the principal saloon there was a sun with rays all around.
Beautiful birds were singing,
Monkeys were telling fairy tales,
And in their midst,
Amongst all this,
Sat three most beautiful princesses.
The two eldest were weaving golden threads in their looms,
But the youngest,
The prince's wife,
Sat silently apart from her sisters,
Listening to the murmur of a fountain,
Her head leaning on her hand in deep thought.
And as she sat there,
Two pearly tears coursed down her lovely face.
What are you thinking of,
Sister?
Asked the two elder princesses.
I am thinking of the prince,
My husband.
I love to think of him,
And I am so sorry for him,
Poor fellow.
To think I left him for no fault at all,
And when we loved one another so dearly.
Oh,
Sisters,
I shall have to leave you and go back to him,
Only I fear he will never forgive me,
However I entreat him,
For having behaved so unkindly to him.
I forgive you,
I forgive you everything,
Darling,
Exclaimed the prince,
Throwing off the invisible cap and embracing her rapturously.
Then she gave him wings like her own,
And they flew away together.
In an hour or two,
They arrived in his father's kingdom.
The king and queen welcomed them joyfully,
And all was greatest joy and happiness henceforward.
Once upon a time,
A young knight named Aloys went to dwell at the court of a mighty king until his coming of age,
For he was without kinsmen and heir to great powers and possessions.
A tiny round room in the castle's topmost tower was given him to be his very own,
And from the curving sill of its one great window,
He could look down on the gardens of the palace,
The woodland beyond,
And see the older nobles walking two by two behind the king.
Now it came to pass upon a summer's eve that the knight Aloys beheld from his tower a lovely golden light moving about on a hillside in the wood.
The elves must be dancing on the hill,
Said the young knight.
I'll ride into the wood and watch them from afar,
And gallop a gallop away,
He rode in the dark.
The night was still,
The birds had gone to bed,
And a young sickle moon was sinking in the west with the old moon in her arms.
Suddenly,
The youth beheld the golden light approaching through the trees.
A pretty maiden in a dress of homespun green,
A white apron,
And a little cap was carrying a golden lantern through the wood.
Her eyes were upon the ground,
And every once in a while she stooped to gather a flower from the earth and thrust it into a basket by her side.
Dismounting from his horse,
Aloys followed the maid afoot,
Fearful lest the snapping of a twig reveal his presence in the dark.
And now the maiden came to a little house in a moonlit forest glade,
And entering the dwelling,
Closed the door gently behind her.
A casement window stood open to the night,
The beam of the golden lantern filled the room,
And presently a voice began to sing a pretty country tune.
Mingled with the lilt of the ballad was a strange sound,
A purring,
Treading sound,
Something like the whir of a spinning wheel,
But heavier,
And with a queer,
Wooden click to it every tiny while.
Approaching quietly in the moonlight,
Aloys rose on tiptoe and gazed within the house.
A single candle in a tall candlestick was burning at each end of the mantle.
Candles were burning in sconces on the wall,
And the golden lantern,
Still aglow,
Hung close beside the door.
The maiden of the light was sitting at an oaken loom,
Working the treadles with her feet,
And tossing the shuttle back and forth from side to side.
Skines of golden thread and white and rose and mulberry and blue lay at her fingers' ends,
And on the frame of the loom stood forth the finished labor,
A noble tapestry in which the maiden had cunningly woven knights and ladies,
Banners in tents and men at arms,
And castles moated round with quiet streams.
This maid in homespun green,
I must tell you,
Was an orphan lass who earned her bread in the world by weaving at her loom.
It was her custom to stain the weaving yards with colors made of roots and flowers,
And she had been wandering about in search of the starlight daisy when Aloys had seen her lantern on the hill.
Now it came to pass that,
As the youth Aloys rode home in the moonlight to his tower,
He could think of naught but the lovely maiden of the loom and determined to ride forth again,
Find her,
And make her his wife.
On the following morning,
Therefore,
He rode singing down the wildwood road to the house in the glade and asked a cup of water from the maid.
And so graciously and prettily did Fidela,
For this was the maiden's aim,
Offer him the cup,
That Aloys thought her more than ever quite the most charming person in the world.
Months passed.
The youth rode every day to the little house and presently made so bold as to ask Fidela to marry him on the morrow's morn.
Little suspecting that Aloys was aught but a simple squire of the court,
The maiden answered with a nod and promised to be ready to ride with him to the village on the hilltop and there be wedded by the master villager.
And now it was the marriage morn.
Great clouds fled over the sun,
Chilling and quieting the world.
Yet every now and then breaking asunder and dappling the broad land with spots of sunshine which gleamed for a moment and were gone.
Dressed in her pretty country finery and with a nosegay of posies at her throat,
Fidela stood by her window waiting to hear the thunder of arriving hoofs and Aloys' joyous hail.
But alas!
Little by little the morning dragged along.
The wooden clock on the mantel ticked and ticked and ticked and ticked.
The clouds gathered in a grey sea over the noontide sun.
Yet of Aloys came no sign.
Early in the afternoon,
A gentle windless rain began to fall and presently the flowers in the garden hung their heads in the gathering gloom as if in sorrow to see so fair a bride forsaken and forgot.
But now you must hear of what happened at the court.
Now,
After bidding farewell to the maiden of the loom and promising to return on the following morn,
Aloys had gone to his tower and attired himself in the magnificent costume which court ceremonial prescribed for all who were famed to speak with the king.
This habit was of richest white satin faced with gold.
A sword set with splendid sapphires was belted to its side and a short blue velvet cape hanging in loose folds was secured at the breast by a golden chain.
Now,
As Aloys was very dark and red-cheeked,
You will see that this costume was really quite becoming.
Thus arrayed,
The youth went boldly to the king and spoke freely and frankly of his love for the maid of the loom and of his purpose to be married with her on the morrow's morn.
The king,
Who sat on his throne clad in a great scarlet robe and wearing his crown,
Listened to Aloys with a smile when he began,
But with a frown as the tale drew to an ending.
Youth,
Said the king sternly,
I have heard enough.
This folly must end,
And at once.
Are you so far forgetful of your great inheritance that you must take a weaver's lass to be your bride?
Go to your tower and see that you ride not beyond the castle wall until I speak the word.
But sir,
Am I not in this my own master,
Cried Aloys unafraid?
You are my ward,
Replied the king with cold authority,
And I have other purposes for you.
Sir Aloys,
Go.
Do what you will,
Replied the youth.
I shall have Fidela and no other.
And holding his head high,
The youth Aloys quitted the audience hall and mounted to his room.
Now when he had gone,
The king,
Who had sat silent a moment,
Chin in hand,
Suddenly threw off his crimson robe,
Called for his coach,
And rode through the wood to a giant tower on the brink of a wild ravine.
A powerful enchanter dwelt there,
Whose magic aid and guileful counsel were ever at the service of the king.
And now the enchanter sat in a huge golden chair,
Hearkening to the king.
He was very old,
This enchanter,
And attired in a full black mantle,
Spangled with silver stars and golden crescent moons,
And as he sat in his golden chair,
He leaned forward and rested his two hands on a stout black cane.
The high round chamber was full of a cobwebby gloom,
And on shelves in the arched windows stood crystal flax of a thousand twisted shapes and colors,
Deep ocean blues,
Fiery scarlets,
Smoky purples,
Clear topaz yellows,
And bright snake-like greens.
And there was a huge black lizard with greeny scarlet eyes that made scaly noises as it ran about on the flagstones of the floor.
When he had heard the king's story of Aloysius and Fidela,
The enchanter smote the floor with his black cane,
Rose to his feet,
Saying never a word,
And took from a niche in the wall a jar of blackest marble strangely veined with gold.
You have done well to come to me,
Said the enchanter to the king,
For the youth is proud-spirited and will resist you to the end.
Twere wisest to bend him to your will by my magic guile.
Within this vial dwells the water of forgetfulness,
A goblin brought it me from the depths of the underworld.
Tonight you must pour it forth into a golden goblet,
And that goblet you must stand by the youth's place at the dinner of the court.
As soon as he drinks of it,
He will forget the weaver's maid forever.
And now it was evening,
And the king and his guests were at dinner in the castle banquet hall.
There were candles everywhere,
White tables and golden plates,
And much coming and going of servants clad in green.
From the royal table,
Raised above the others,
The king watched Aloysius through the meal.
Suddenly he smiled a grim smile.
The youth had drunk the cup.
When it was late at night,
The king summoned Aloysius before him,
Stared into his eyes,
And beheld that he had indeed forgotten all.
My lord Aloysius,
Said the king,
Your coming of age approaches,
And you will soon find yourself the greatest lord in my dominions.
Since you are my ward,
It has been my duty to seek for you a bride worthy of your titles and estate.
In the kingdom of fields,
A fair princess dwells.
Melusine is she called,
And to-morrow's morn you shall go forth in state to offer her your homage and your hand.
Thus spoke the crafty king,
And hid in his heart his design of adding the kingdom of the fields to his own dominions through the marriage of the knight and Melusine.
And now it was the morn of cloud and fleeting gleams of sun.
In the little house in the glade,
Fidela stood waiting and waiting at the casement window,
Whilst at the court,
Aloysius drew on his jeweled gloves,
Bowed to the king,
Mounted into the golden coach,
And sank back in splendor against cushions of mulberry brocade.
Tick-tock,
Tick-tock,
Tick-tock,
Said the clock on Fidela's house,
As the hands circled the hours,
And the golden coach,
Gleaming great golden gleams in the pools of light,
Rolled over the hills and far away.
It was twilight now,
And in the little house in the wood,
Fidela lifted the bridal wreath from her head,
Lit candles,
And sank into a wing-chair by the burnt-out embers of the fire.
So great was her trust in Aloysius,
That never a questioning doubt of him raised its voice in her heart.
Some evil thing has surely come to pass,
Said faithful Fidela.
Alas,
What may it be?
And for two days,
She walked to and fro between the window and her loom,
Vainly hoping for a sign.
On the third morning,
No longer able to bear the burden of her fears,
The maiden journeyed to court,
And sought news of Aloysius from the king.
So you are the maid of the loom,
Said the unpitying king,
Who owed Fidela a grudge for having endangered his precious schemes.
And,
Tis Sir Aloysius whom you seek?
Well,
Find him if you can.
Ho,
Guards of the palace,
Take this forward maid,
Put her in a coach,
And drive her far beyond the bounds of my dominions.
Over hill,
Over dale,
Bumping through puddle-holes,
And tossing and swaying crazily from side to side,
Rolled the coach in which Fidela sat a prisoner.
A rushing,
Scurrying wind was flowing over the sunny world,
Shaking the manes of the galloping horses,
Rippling the roadside pools,
And whirring the little birds who had just begun to fly.
Presently,
Fidela found herself on a lonely moor,
Watching the coach fare homeward in the wind-streaked splendor of the west.
And now began the wayfaring of Fidela in quest of Aloys,
For the king had forbidden the maid to return again to her own land.
Down the highway of the golden plain she fared,
And beheld the grain tossing about her like a sea.
Through the silence of the adamants she passed,
And on into the kingdom by the peaks,
Yet never a word of Aloys brought joy to her ear.
Now it fortuned on a spring morning,
As Fidela wandered in a pleasant land of wooded hills and little singing brooks,
She came to the strangest palace that was ever to be seen.
Of earth overgrown with grass were its mighty walls and lofty battlements.
Flowers grew in the crannies,
Blossoming vines swayed from its heights,
And when the maiden peered within,
She beheld there a woodsy hall,
Whose giant columns were the trunks of living trees.
At the far end of the hall,
On a throne of living wood,
Sat a dark and stately queen.
Twelve maidens stood beside her,
Three robed in summer scarlet,
Three in winter white,
Three in springtide emerald,
And three in russet gold.
The lady of the palace was Erda,
The great earth queen.
Four sons had she,
And each son was master of a season of the year.
My faithful Fidela,
Said the earth queen,
When she had heard the maiden's story,
Be of good cheer,
For all that hath been hid from you shall now be known.
An enchanted torrent through my palace flows,
Its waters possess the gift of speech,
And to every mystery it hath a secret key.
Follow,
Fidela,
To the grotto of the stream.
Now rose the earth queen from her throne,
And led the way through the cool,
Sweet-smelling chambers of the palace to a strange,
Dark grotto,
Half vine-hung hall.
At the darker end of the leafy cave,
A lovely waterfall,
Whose torrent was full of a pale,
Mysterious light,
Was leaping from some height overhead into a chasm so profound that only the faintest watery murmur rose in whispers from below.
Kneeling upon the brink of the chasm,
Fidela gazed down into the palely glowing depths of the abyss and asked of Alois and his fate.
For a moment or two,
The waters far below seemed to gather themselves into a faint,
Echoing roar,
Which slowly ebbed to a whisper,
And presently this whisper became a voice and dissolved into delicate and silvery words,
And the voice of the enchanted chasm told Fidela of Alois' true faith,
Of the enchanter and the water of forgetfulness,
And of the youth's journey to the court of the kingdom of the fields.
Oh my,
Is there no way in which this spell may be broken?
Said Fidela.
In the wood beyond the world,
Answered the torrent,
Under trees which are older than the stars,
The fountain of memory pours its crystal stream.
If the youth shall drink a golden goblet of this water,
The chain of the spell will break,
And the silvery voice will faint and die away.
And now Erda,
The earth queen,
Gave the maiden a fair golden goblet with a golden cover and bade her sail upon the giant ship of the earth to the wood beyond the world.
When the maiden arrived at the sea,
The sun had vanished below mountains to the west,
The waves were breaking gently along a darkening shore,
And ragged hulks of cloud were lying becalmed in the deep and starry sky.
Far,
Far out to sea,
Rising from the waters like the blue bulwark of another land,
And bridging the vast horizon from west unto the south,
Stood the giant ship of Erda,
The queen.
So high were its masts,
That their tops could scarce be seen in the dome of the heavens.
Clouds swept through the royal yards,
And the lights within the rigging floated like stars upon the sky.
Three days journey long,
And close upon a day's journey wide was the giant ship.
Its sails were the size of towns,
And a sailor on horseback carried the captain's orders to the crew.
And there were villages abroad,
And wild fields in which men were plowing,
And grazing cattle,
And highways and inns wherein travelers might rest.
Now came the dark,
A wind rose upon the sea,
The black clouds moved through the stars,
And a little boat came to take Fidela to the ship.
Once aboard,
The maiden was given a pretty cottage with a garden to be her very own,
And,
Sailing by night and by day,
Furrying vast and lonely seas,
The giant ship came to the wood beyond the world.
The fountain of memory lay at the foot of the noblest of the trees,
And the silvery music of its falling water was the only sound to be heard in all the wood.
A hooded figure of worn and ancient stone,
Standing with head bowed low,
Held aloft the jar from which it flowed,
An endless crystal stream.
And Fidela,
Stooping to fill her cup in the basin of stone below,
Saw mirrored in the water there,
Gathering and dissolving one into the other,
Memories of all the years of her life which had been.
Once more through the lonely seas sailed the giant ship of Erda the Queen.
Fidela again beheld the land,
And presently she ferried over hill and dale to the kingdom of the fields.
The winter was over and gone,
And all the towns and villages of the realm were decked with bannerets and wreaths of early flowers,
For in three days' time the Lord Aloys was to wed the Princess Melusine.
Presently Fidela,
Journeying through the land,
Arrived on the crust of a hill overlooking the royal city,
And,
Pausing there a while,
Took counsel with herself as to how she might best make her way to Aloys and offer him the cup of memory.
I must find me a loom,
Said faithful Fidela,
And weave upon it a wedding gift so worthy that the lords of the castle will suffer me to go with it to Aloys.
And she sought out a house and a loom in a village by the city,
And paid for them with a penny of gold,
And from one neighbor she had silver yarn,
And from another blue,
And from others all the colors of the world.
And now Fidela began to weave a fair tapestry picture of the story she had lived,
Beginning the tale with the golden light in the wood and the coming of Aloys to the glade.
Thread by thread,
Inch by inch,
The grass palace of Erda grew on the loom,
The cave of the talking waters,
The giant ship with its masts above the clouds,
And the fountain of memory in the wood beyond the world.
The sun set behind the high towers of the city,
And still Fidela labored at the loom,
Candles melted low,
And still the sound of the weaving hummed upon the air.
In the dark of the second night,
As Fidela rose to toss a brand upon the fire,
She heard,
Through the quiet of the room,
The distant beat of galloping hoofs and the thundering rumble of a coach.
Louder and louder grew the sound,
And presently there passed the maiden's dwelling,
A huge coach speeding from the city.
Strange to tell,
Its lanterns were unlit,
And its curtains closely drawn.
Perchance some noble guest hath been summoned post-haste to his realm,
Thought Fidela.
And now it was the morn,
The marriage morn of the knight Aloys and the princess Melusine.
Alas,
Still unfinished was the picture tapestry.
Fearing to risk a single moment more,
However,
The maiden unbound the picture from the loom,
And,
Carrying the gift and her golden cup,
Joined the merrymakers thronging to the city.
The streets were already full of soldiers in gayest uniforms,
Strolling musicians,
Young nobles,
Marking pages,
Good country folk,
And sober burgesses in velvet gowns.
Those who brought gifts for Aloys and Melusine were faring into the castle through the eastern gate.
The bells of the castle were ringing as they never rang before.
Fidela approached to the portal with her gift.
A haughty chamberlain with a silver chain about his shoulders stood there by the threshold and suffered only those to enter in whom he thought well worthy of the boon.
But my good young woman,
Said the chamberlain severely to Fidela,
Your tapestry is unfinished still.
Go to your home and weave it to an end ere you return again.
You may not enter.
Oh,
Sir,
Cried poor Fidela.
Do not thrust me back.
Let me enter,
I pray.
Oh,
Let me go within.
What I have said I have said,
Replied the chamberlain,
Shouting at Fidela through the deafening clangor of the bells.
Suddenly,
The bells stopped in the middle of a peal and everything grew very strangely still.
People began to look questioningly at one another.
The Princess Melusine was not to be found.
She had fled during the night with her cousin,
The King of the Golden Hill.
The coach,
Which Fidela had seen,
Had borne the runaway bride.
As for the Knight Aloys,
Some said that he had already left the realm,
Whilst others murmured that he was hiding for shame in a tower,
And many laughed.
Thrust from the portal by the guards,
Fidela returned to her cottage in the fields.
And now it was night.
The air was sweet with the fragrance of earth beneath the plow,
And a sickle moon hung in the cloudy west with the old moon in her arms.
Within her silent house,
Fidela kindled a yellow fire,
Threw the tapestry picture over the loom,
And stood by the hearth gazing deep into the flame.
Suddenly,
A knocking sounded at the door,
And Fidela,
Answering the summons,
Found herself standing face to face with the young Knight Aloys.
His pride touched to the quick.
The forsaken youth had lingered in the castle till dark,
And then fled with his people from the town.
And because he had fled in haste and was athirst,
The youth had paused at the first light shining in the fields.
Standing on the threshold in the moonlight,
The youth asked a cup of water of the maid.
With a beating heart,
Fidela lifted to his hands the cup of memory.
And now there came an end to the enchanter's wicked spell and the long years of danger and faithful questing.
Letting fall the golden cup,
The young knight uttered a great cry and stretched out his arms to the faithful maid for whose sake he had braved the anger of the king.
The loyal maid who had loved him with a loving face and braved many a peril for him through the kingdoms of the world.
Dear Fidela,
Said Aloys,
Today is the day of my coming of age,
And I am free forever of the king.
Now,
Shall you be the lady of my land?
Come,
My people and my coach are at the door.
So now Fidela quenched the taper,
Leaving only a flickering brand to light the empty room and walked with Aloys to the coach.
A little breeze was stirring in the grass,
And somewhere in a glen beyond the fields a bird awoke,
Sang a few sweet piping notes and then was still.
I am glad I did not finish my tapestry,
Whispered Fidela,
For now I can weave it to a merry close.
And the coach rolled away,
Over hill,
Over dale,
In the golden light of the moon.
The little white princess always woke in her little white bed when the starlings began to chatter in the pearl grey morning.
As soon as the woods were awake,
She used to run up the twisting turret stairs with her little bare feet and stand on the top of the tower in her white bedgown and kiss her hands to the sun and to the woods and to the sleeping town and say,
Good morning,
Pretty world.
Then she would run down the cold stone steps and dress herself in her short skirt and her cap and apron and begin the day's work.
She swept the rooms and made the breakfast,
She washed the dishes and she scoured the pans,
And all this she did because she was a real princess.
For all who should have served her,
Only one remained faithful,
Her old nurse,
Who had lived with her in the tower all the princess's life.
And now the nurse was old and feeble,
The princess would not let her work anymore,
But did all the housework herself while nurse sat still and did the sewing,
Because this was a real princess with skin like milk and hair like flax and a heart like gold.
Her name was Sabrinetta and her grandmother was Sabra,
Who married Saint George after he had killed the dragon and by real rights all the country belonged to her.
The woods that stretched away to the mountains,
The downs that sloped down to the sea,
The pretty fields of corn and maize and rye,
The olive orchards and the vineyards,
And the little town itself,
With its towers and its turrets,
Its steep roofs and strange windows that nestled in the hollow between the sea where the whirlpool was and the mountains,
White with snow and rosy with sunrise.
But when her father and mother had died,
Leaving her cousin to take care of the kingdom till she grew up,
He,
Being a very evil prince,
Took everything away from her,
And all the people followed him,
And now nothing was left her of all her possessions,
Except the great dragon-proof tower that her grandfather Saint George had built and all of who should have been her servants,
Only the good nurse.
This was why Sabrinetta was the first person in all the land to get a glimpse of the wonder.
Early,
Early,
Early,
While all the townspeople were fast asleep,
She ran up the turret steps and looked out over the field,
And at the other side of the field there was a green,
Ferny ditch and a rosy,
Thorny hedge,
And then came the wood.
And as Sabrinetta stood on her tower,
She saw a shaking and a twisting of the rosy,
Thorny hedge,
And then something very bright and shining wriggled out through it into the ferny ditch and back again.
It only came out for a minute,
But she saw it quite plainly,
And she said to herself,
Dear me,
What a curious,
Shiny,
Bright-looking creature!
If it were bigger,
And if I didn't know that there have been no fabulous monsters for quite a long time now,
I should almost think it was a dragon.
The thing,
Whatever it was,
Did look rather like a dragon,
But then it was too small,
And it looked rather like a lizard,
And then it was too big.
It was about as long as a hearth rug.
I wish it had not been in such a hurry to get back into the wood,
Said Sabrinetta.
Of course it's quite safe for me in my dragon-proof tower,
But if it is a dragon,
It's quite big enough to eat people,
And today's the first of May,
And the children go out to get flowers in the wood.
When Sabrinetta had done the housework,
She did not leave so much as a speck of dust anywhere,
Even in the corniest corner of the winding stair.
She put on her milk-white silky gown with the moon daisies worked on it,
And went up to the top of her tower again.
Across the fields,
Troops of children were going out to gather the May,
And the sound of their laughter and singing came up to the top of the tower.
I do hope it wasn't a dragon,
Said Sabrinetta.
The children went twos by threes,
And by tens and by twenties,
And the red and blue and yellow and white of their frocks were scattered on the green of the field.
It's like a green silk mantle worked with flowers,
Said the princess,
Smiling.
Then twos and by threes,
By tens and by twenties,
The children vanished into the wood,
Till the mantle of the field was left plain green once more.
All the embroidery is unpicked,
Said the princess,
Sighing.
The sun shone,
And the sky was blue,
And the fields were quite green,
And all the flowers were very bright indeed,
Because it was May Day.
Then,
Quite suddenly,
A cloud passed over the sun,
And the silence was broken by shrieks from far off,
And,
Like a many-colored torrent,
All the children burst from the wood and rushed,
A red and blue and yellow and white wave across the field,
Screaming as they ran.
Their voices came up to the princess on her tower,
And she heard the words threaded on their screams,
Like beads on sharp needles.
The dragon!
The dragon!
The dragon!
Open the gates!
The dragon is coming!
The fiery dragon!
And they swept across the field and into the gate of the town,
And the princess heard the gate bang,
And the children were out of sight.
But on the other side of the field,
The rose thorns crackled and smashed in the hedge,
And something very large and glaring and horrible trampled the ferns in the ditch for one moment before it hit itself again in the culvert of the wood.
The princess went down and told her nurse,
And the nurse at once locked the great door of the tower and put the key in her pocket.
Let them take care of themselves,
She said,
When the princess begged to be allowed to go out and help to take care of the children.
My business is to take care of you,
My precious,
And I'm going to do it.
Old as I am,
I can turn a key still.
So Sabrinetta went up again to the top of her tower and cried whenever she thought of the children and the fiery dragon,
For she knew,
Of course,
That the gates of the town were not dragon-proof and that the dragon could just walk in whenever he liked.
The children ran straight to the palace where the prince was cracking his hunting whip down at the kennels and told him what had happened.
Good sport,
Said the prince,
And he ordered out his pack of hippopotamuses at once.
It was his custom to hunt big game with hippopotamuses and people would not have minded that so much,
But he would swagger about in the streets of the town with his pack,
Yelping and gambling at his heels,
And when he did that,
The green grocer,
Who had his stall in the marketplace,
Always regretted it,
And the crockery merchant,
Who spread his wares on the pavement,
Was ruined for life every time the prince chose to show off his pack.
The prince rode out of the town with his hippopotamuses,
Trotting and frisking behind him,
And people got inside their houses as quickly as they could when they heard the voices of his pack and the blowing of his horn.
The pack squeezed through the town gates and off across country to hunt the dragon.
Few of you,
Who had not seen a pack of hippopotamuses in full cry,
Will be able to imagine at all what the hunt was like.
To begin with,
Hippopotamuses do not bay like hounds.
They grunt like pigs,
And their grunt is very big and fierce.
Then,
Of course,
No one expects hippopotamuses to jump.
They just crash through the hedges and lumber through the standing corn,
Doing serious injury to the crops and annoying the farmers very much.
All the hippopotamuses had collars with their name and address on,
But when the farmers called at the palace to complain of the injury to their standing crops,
The prince always said it served them right for leaving their crops standing about in people's way,
And he never paid anything at all.
So now,
When he and his pack went on,
Several people in the town whispered,
I wish the dragon would eat him,
Which was very wrong of them,
No doubt,
But then he was such a very nasty prince.
They hunted by field,
And they hunted by wold.
They drew the woods blank,
And the scent didn't lie on the downs at all.
The dragon was shy and would not show himself.
But just as the prince was beginning to think there was no dragon at all,
But only a cock and bull,
His favorite old hippopotamus gave tongue.
The prince blew his horn and shouted,
Tally-ho,
Hark forward,
And the whole pack charged downhill toward the hollow by the wood.
For there,
Plain to see,
Was the dragon,
As big as a barge,
Glowing like a furnace,
And spitting fire and showing his shining teeth.
The hunt is up,
Cried the prince,
And indeed it was.
For the dragon,
Instead of behaving as a quarry should and running away,
Ran straight at the pack,
And the prince,
On his elephant,
Had the mortification of seeing his prized pack swallowed up,
One by one in the twinkling of an eye,
By the dragon they had come out to hunt.
The dragon swallowed all the hippopotamuses just as a dog swallows bits of meat.
It was a shocking sight.
Of the whole of the pack that had come out sporting so merrily to the music of the horn,
Now not even a puppy hippopotamus was left,
And the dragon was looking anxiously around to see if he had forgotten anything.
The prince slipped off his elephant on the other side,
And ran into the thickest part of the wood.
He hoped the dragon could not break through the bushes there,
Since they were very strong and close.
He went crawling on his hands and knees in a most un-prince-like way,
And at last,
Finding a hollow tree,
He crept into it.
The wood was very still,
No crashing of branches,
And no smell of burning came to alarm the prince.
He drained the silver hunting bottle slung from his shoulder,
And stretched his legs in the hollow tree.
He never shed a single tear for his poor tame hippopotamuses,
Who had eaten from his hand and followed him faithfully in all the pleasures of the chase for so many years.
For he was a false prince,
With skin like leather,
And hair like hearth brushes,
And a heart like a stone.
He never shed a tear,
But he just went to sleep.
When he awoke,
It was dark.
He crept out of the tree and rubbed his eyes.
The wood was black about him,
But there was a red glow in a dell close by.
It was a fire of sticks,
And beside it sat a ragged youth with long yellow hair.
All around lay sleeping forms which breathed heavily.
Who are you?
Said the prince.
I'm Elfin,
The pig-keeper,
Said the ragged youth.
And who are you?
I'm Tarsim,
The prince,
Said the other.
And what are you doing out of your palace at this time of the night?
Asked the pig-keeper severely.
I've been hunting,
Said the prince.
The pig-keeper laughed.
Oh,
It was you I saw then.
A good hunt,
Wasn't it?
My pigs and I were looking on.
All the sleeping forms grunted and snored,
And the prince saw that they were pigs.
He knew it by their manners.
If you had known as much as I do,
Elfin went on,
You might have saved your back.
What do you mean?
Said Tarsim.
Why,
The dragon,
Said Elfin.
You went out at the wrong time of day.
The dragon should be hunted at night.
No thank you,
Said the prince with a shudder.
A daylight hunt is quite good enough for me,
You silly pig-keeper.
Oh well,
Said Elfin.
Do as you like about it.
The dragon will come and hunt you tomorrow,
As likely as not.
I don't care if he does,
You silly prince.
You're very rude,
Said Tarsim.
Oh no,
Only truthful,
Said Elfin.
Well,
Tell me the truth then.
What is it that,
If I had known as much as you do about,
I shouldn't have lost my hippopotamuses?
You don't speak very good English,
Said Elfin.
But come,
What will you give me if I tell you?
If you tell me what,
Said the Tarsim prince,
What do you want to know?
I don't want to know anything,
Said Prince Tarsim.
Then you're more of a stilly than I even thought,
Said Elfin.
Don't you want to know how to settle the dragon before he settles you?
It might be as well,
The prince admitted.
Well,
I haven't much patience at any time,
Said Elfin,
And now I can assure you that there's very little left.
What will you give me if I tell you?
Half my kingdom,
Said the prince,
And my cousin's hand in marriage.
Done,
Said the pig-keeper.
Here goes.
The dragon grows small at night.
He sleeps under the root of this tree.
I use him to light my fire with.
And,
Sure enough,
There under the tree was the dragon on a nest of scorched moss,
And he was about as long as your finger.
How can I kill him,
Said the prince?
I don't know that you can kill him,
Said Elfin,
But you can take him away if you brought anything to put him in.
That bottle of yours would do.
So between them they managed,
With bits of stick and by singeing their fingers a little,
To poke and shove the dragon till they made it creep into the silver hunting bottle,
And then the prince screwed on the top tight.
Now we've got him,
Said Elfin.
Let's take him home and put Solomon's seal on the mouth of the bottle,
And then he'll be safe enough.
Come along.
We'll divide up the kingdom tomorrow,
And then I shall have some money to buy fine clothes to go courting in.
But when the wicked prince made promises,
He did not make them to keep.
Go on with you.
What do you mean,
He said.
I found the dragon and I've imprisoned him.
I never said a word about courtings or kingdoms.
If you say I did,
I shall cut your head off at once.
And he drew his sword.
All right,
Said Elfin,
Shrugging his shoulders.
I'm better off than you are anyhow.
What do you mean,
Spluttered the prince.
Why,
You've only got a kingdom and a dragon,
But I've got clean hands and five and seventy fine black pigs.
So Elfin sat down again by his fire,
And the prince went home and told his parliament how clever and brave he had been,
And though he woke them up on purpose to tell them,
They were not angry,
But said,
You are indeed brave and clever,
For they knew what happened to people with whom the prince was not pleased.
Then the prime minister solemnly put Solomon's seal on the mouth of the bottle,
And the bottle was put in the treasury,
Which was the strongest building in the town,
And was made of solid copper,
With walls as thick as Waterloo Bridge.
The bottle was set down among the sacks of gold,
And the junior secretary to the junior clerk of the last lord of the treasury was appointed to sit up all night with it and see if anything happened.
The junior secretary had never seen a dragon,
And what was more,
He did not believe the prince had ever seen a dragon either.
The prince had never been a really truthful boy,
And it would have been just like him to bring home a bottle with nothing in it,
And then to pretend that there was a dragon inside.
So the junior secretary did not at all mind being left.
They gave him the key,
And when everyone in the town had gone back to bed,
He let in some of the junior secretaries from other government departments,
And they had a jolly game of hide-and-seek among the sacks of gold,
And played marbles with the diamonds and rubies and pearls in the big ivory chests.
They enjoyed themselves very much,
But by and by the copper treasury began to get warmer and warmer,
And suddenly the junior secretary cried out,
Look at the bottle!
The bottle,
Sealed with Solomon's seal,
Had swollen to three times its proper size,
And seemed to be nearly red-hot,
And the air got warmer and warmer,
And the bottle bigger and bigger,
Till all the junior secretaries agreed that the place was too hot to hold them,
And out they went,
Tumbling over each other in their haste,
And just as the last got out and locked the door,
The bottle burst,
And out came the dragon,
Very fiery and swelling more and more every minute,
And he began to eat the sacks of gold and crunch up the pearls and diamonds and rubies as if they were sugar.
By breakfast time he had devoured the whole of the prince's treasures,
And when the prince came along the street at about eleven,
He met the dragon coming out of the broken door of the treasury with molten gold still dripping from his jaws.
Then the prince turned and ran for his life,
And as he ran toward the dragon-proof tower,
The little white princess saw him coming,
And she ran down and unlocked the door and let him in,
And slammed the dragon-proof door in the fiery face of the dragon,
Who sat down and whined outside because he wanted the prince very much indeed.
The princess took Prince Tyresome into the best room and laid the cloth and gave him cream and eggs and white grapes and honey and bread,
With many other things,
Yellow and white and good to eat,
And she served him just as kindly as she would have done if he had been anyone else instead of the bad prince who had taken away her kingdom and kept it for himself,
Because she was a true princess and had a heart of gold.
When he had eaten and drunk,
He begged the princess to show him how to lock and unlock the door.
The nurse was asleep,
So there was no one to tell the princess not to,
And she did.
You turn the key like this,
She said,
And the door keeps shut,
But turn it nine times round the wrong way and the door flies open.
And so it did,
And the moment it opened,
The prince pushed the white princess out of the tower,
Just as he had pushed her out of her kingdom,
And shut the door,
For he wanted to have the tower all for himself.
And there she was in the street,
And on the other side of the way,
The dragon was sitting whining,
But he did not try to eat her because,
Though the old nurse did not know it,
Dragons cannot eat white princesses with heart of gold.
The princess could not walk through the streets of the town in her milky,
Silky gown with the daisies on it,
And with no hat and no gloves,
So she turned the other way and ran out across the meadows toward the wood.
She had never been out of her tower before,
And the soft grass under her feet felt like grass of paradise.
She ran right into the thickest part of the wood because she did not know what her heart was made of,
And she was afraid of the dragon,
And there in a dell she came on Elfin and his five and seventy fine pigs.
He was playing his flute,
And around him the pigs were dancing cheerfully on their hind legs.
Oh dear,
Said the princess.
Do take care of me.
I'm so frightened.
I will,
Said Elfin,
Putting his arms around her.
Now you are quite safe.
What are you frightened of?
The dragon,
She said.
So it's gotten out of the silver bottle,
Said Elfin.
I hope it's eaten the prince.
No,
Said Sabrinetta.
But why?
He told her of the mean trick that the prince had played on him,
And he promised me half his kingdom and the hand of his cousin the princess,
Said the Elfin.
Oh dear,
What a shame,
Said Sabrinetta,
Trying to get out of his arms.
How dare he?
What's the matter,
He asked,
Holding her tighter.
It was a shame,
Or at least I thought so,
But now he may keep his kingdom,
Half and whole,
If I may keep what I have.
What's that?
Asked the princess.
Why you,
My pretty,
My dear,
Said Elfin.
And as for the princess,
His cousin,
Forgive me,
Dearest heart,
But when I asked for her,
I hadn't seen the real princess,
The only princess,
My princess.
Do you mean me?
Said Sabrinetta.
Who else,
He asked.
Yes,
Five minutes ago I was a pig keeper.
Now I've held you in my arms,
I'm a prince,
Though I should have to keep pigs to the end of my days.
But you haven't asked me,
Said the princess.
You asked me to take care of you,
Said Elfin,
And I will,
All my life long.
So that was settled,
And they began to talk of really important things,
Such as the dragon and the prince,
And all the time Elfin did not know that this was the princess,
But he knew that she had a heart of gold,
And he told her so many times.
The mistake,
Said Elfin,
Was in not having a dragon-proof bottle.
I see that now.
Oh,
Is that all?
Said the princess.
I can easily get you one of those,
Because everything in my tower is dragon-proof.
We ought to do something to settle the dragon and save the little children.
So she went off to get the bottle,
But she would not let Elfin come with her.
If what you say is true,
She said,
If you are sure that I have a heart of gold,
The dragon won't hurt me,
And somebody must stay with the pigs.
Elfin was quite sure,
So he let her go.
She took the dragon-proof bottle,
Made of burnished brass,
And ran back to the wood,
And to the dell,
Where Elfin was sitting among his sleek black pigs,
Waiting for her.
I thought you were never coming back,
He said.
You've been away a year at least.
The princess sat down beside him among the pigs,
And they held each other's hands till it was dark.
And then the dragon came crawling over the moss,
Scorching it as he came,
And getting smaller as he crawled,
And curled up under the root of the tree.
Now then,
Said Elfin,
You hold the bottle.
Then he poked and prodded the dragon with bits of stick till it crawled into the dragon-proof bottle,
But there was no stopper.
Never mind,
Said Elfin,
I'll put my finger in for a stopper.
No,
Let me,
Said the princess.
But of course Elfin would not let her.
He stuck his finger into the top of the bottle,
And the princess cried out,
The sea,
The sea,
Run for the cliffs.
And off they went,
With the five and seventy pigs trotting steadily after them in a long black procession.
The bottle got hotter and hotter in Elfin's hands,
Because the dragon inside was puffing fire and smoke with all his might.
Hotter and hotter and hotter,
But Elfin held on till they came to the cliff edge,
And there was the dark blue sea,
And the whirlpool going round and around.
Elfin lifted the bottle high above his head,
And hurled it out between the stars and the sea,
And it fell in the middle of the whirlpool.
We've saved the country,
Said the princess.
You've saved the little children.
Give me your hands.
I can't,
Said Elfin.
I shall never be able to take your dear hands again.
My hands are burnt off.
And so they were.
They were only black cinders where his hands ought to have been.
The princess kissed them,
And cried over them,
And tore pieces of her silky milky gown to tie them up with,
And the two went back to the tower,
And told the nurse all about everything,
And the pigs sat outside and waited.
He is the bravest man in the world said Sabrinetta.
He has saved the country and the little children,
But oh his hands,
His poor dear darling hands.
Here the door of the room opened,
And the oldest of the five and seventy pigs came in.
It went up to Elfin and rubbed itself against him with little loving grunts.
See the dear creature,
Said the nurse,
Wiping away a tear.
It knows.
It knows.
Sabrinetta stroked the pig,
Because Elfin had no hands for stroking or for anything else.
The only cure for a dragon burn,
Said the old nurse,
Is pigs' fat,
And well,
That faithful creature knows it.
It wouldn't for a kingdom,
Cried Elfin,
Stroking the pig as best as he could with his elbow.
Is there no other cure?
Asked the princess.
Here another pig put its black nose in at the door,
And then another,
And another,
Till the room was full of pigs,
A surging mass of rounded blackness,
Pushing and struggling to get at Elfin,
And grunting softly in the language of true affection.
There is one other,
Said the nurse.
The dear affectionate beasts,
They all want to die for you.
What is the other cure?
Said Sabrinetta anxiously.
If a man is burnt by a dragon,
Said the nurse,
And a certain number of people are willing to die for him,
It is enough if each should kiss the burn and wish it well in the depths of his loving heart.
The number,
The number,
Cried Sabrinetta.
Seventy-seven,
Said the nurse.
We only have seventy-five pigs,
Said the princess,
And with me,
That's seventy-six.
It must be seventy-seven,
And I really can't die for him,
So nothing can be done,
Said the nurse sadly.
He must have cork hands.
I knew about the seventy-seven loving people,
Said Elfin,
But I never thought my dear pigs loved me so much as all this,
And my dear too,
And,
Of course,
That only makes it more impossible.
There's one other charm that cures dragon burns,
Though,
But I'd rather be burnt black all over than marry anyone but you,
My dear,
My pretty.
Why,
Who must you marry to cure your dragon burns?
Asked Sabrinetta.
A princess.
That's how St.
George cured his burns.
There now,
Think of that,
Said the nurse,
And I never heard tell of that cure,
Old as I am.
But Sabrinetta threw her arms round Elfin's neck,
And held him as though she would never let him go.
Then it's all right,
My dear,
Brave,
Precious Elfin,
She cried,
For I am a princess,
And you shall be my prince.
Come along,
Nurse.
Don't wait to put on your bonnet.
We'll go and be married this very moment.
So they went,
And the pigs came after,
Moving in stately blackness two by two,
And,
The minute he was married to the princess,
Elfin's hands got quite well,
And the people,
Who were weary of Prince Tiresome and his hippopotamuses,
Hailed Sabrinetta and her husband as rightful sovereigns of the land.
Next morning,
The prince and princess went out to see if the dragon had been washed ashore.
They could see nothing of him,
But when they looked out toward the whirlpool,
They saw a cloud of steam,
And the fishermen reported that the water for miles around was hot enough to shave with.
And as the water is hot there to this day,
We may feel pretty sure that the fierceness of that dragon was such that all the waters of all the sea were not enough to cool him.
The whirlpool is too strong for him to be able to get out of it,
So there he spins around and around forever and ever,
Doing some useful work at last,
And warming the water for poor fisherfolk to shave with.
Once upon a time,
There was a king with three daughters.
The two eldest were proud and quick to argue,
While the youngest was kind and gentle.
One day,
Three princes arrived to court them.
Two were just as proud and difficult as the older princesses,
But the third was as kind-hearted as the youngest.
One afternoon,
As they all walked down to the lake at the edge of the lawn,
They came across a poor beggar.
The king refused to help him,
And so did the eldest princesses and their suitors.
But the youngest daughter and her true love not only gave him something,
But also spoke to him kindly,
And that kindness was worth more than anything else.
When they reached the edge of the lake,
What did they find but the most beautiful boat they had ever seen?
The eldest princess exclaimed,
I want to take a sail in this fine boat.
The second eldest said the same,
But the youngest hesitated.
I don't want to sail in that boat,
She said.
I'm afraid it's enchanted.
The others,
However,
Convinced her to step inside,
And just as her father was about to follow,
A tiny man only seven inches tall suddenly appeared on deck and commanded him to stay back.
The men instinctively reached for their swords,
But as if by magic,
Their weapons were useless,
Their strength drained from their arms.
The little man,
Known as Seven Inches,
Unfastened the silver chain securing the boat and pushed off.
As they drifted away,
He grinned at the four men and said,
Say goodbye to your daughters and brides for now.
As for you,
He added,
Looking at the youngest princess' true love,
You needn't worry.
You'll get your princess back in time,
And the two of you will be as happy as can be.
Bad people,
Even if they were covered head to toe in gold,
Would never be truly rich.
Farewell.
The boat glided away across the water,
And though the princesses reached out their hands,
They found themselves unable to speak a single word.
Well,
They weren't halfway across the lake before a cat could lick its ear,
And the poor men were frozen in place,
Unable to move a muscle to chase after them.
Helplessly,
They watched as Seven Inches led the three princesses out of the boat and lowered them one by one into a deep well using a basket.
Strangely,
Neither the king nor the princes had ever noticed an opening in that spot before.
As soon as the last princess disappeared from sight,
The men suddenly regained their strength in their arms and legs.
Without wasting a second,
They sprinted around the lake,
Not stopping until they reached the well.
There they found a silk rope neatly wound around the axle,
With a clean white basket hanging from it.
Lower me down,
Said the youngest prince.
I'll either bring them back or die trying.
No,
Said the second princess's suitor.
It's my turn first.
But the eldest prince spoke up.
I am the oldest,
So I go first.
The others stepped aside,
Allowing him to climb into the basket.
They began lowering him,
Watching as he disappeared from view.
They let the silk rope unwind,
Turning the wheel for what felt like an eternity.
But after they had lowered him a hundred perches deep,
The rope suddenly slackened and they stopped turning.
They waited for two hours,
But there was no tug on the rope.
They decided to go to dinner.
Guards were set to watch over the well until the morning.
The next day,
The second prince was lowered down,
And when he didn't return either,
The youngest prince took his turn on the third day.
Down,
Down he went,
Deeper and deeper,
Surrounded by darkness as if he were trapped inside a sealed pod.
He descended for what felt like an eternity until at last he spotted a faint glimmer below.
A little while later,
His feet touched solid ground.
Stepping out of what turned out to be a massive lime kiln,
He was astonished to find himself in a beautiful land with green fields,
A vast forest,
And a grand castle standing in the middle of a bright sunlit lawn.
I must be in Tir-Nanog,
He murmured.
Let's see who lives in that castle.
He made his way across the fields and into the courtyard,
But there was no guard to stop him,
Or anyone to welcome him.
The massive front door stood wide open.
He wandered through room after room,
Each more magnificent than the last,
Until he reached the grandest of them all.
In the center stood a table set with a feast fit for a king.
Though his stomach rumbled with hunger,
He was too well-mannered to eat without being invited,
So he sat by the fire and waited.
Before long he heard footsteps approaching.
Inn walked seven inches,
Holding the youngest princess by the hand.
The moment she saw the prince,
She ran straight into his arms overjoyed.
Seven inches looked at him and asked,
Why aren't you eating?
I thought it was only polite to wait until I was invited,
The prince replied.
Well,
The other princes didn't think so,
Said seven inches with a smirk.
They helped themselves without asking,
And had nothing but harsh words for me when I told them they were making themselves a little too comfortable.
But I don't think they feel much hunger now.
He pointed to the corners of the room where two statues stood,
One in each corner.
The prince's heart pounded as he realized they were his brothers,
Turned to stone.
Though he was shaken,
He said nothing,
And seven inches gestured for him to sit at the table.
Between him and his bride,
The meal was as pleasant as could be,
Except for the chilling sight of the stone figures looming in the corner.
The day passed,
And the next morning,
Seven inches said,
Now,
It's time for you to set off.
He pointed toward the rising sun.
By evening,
You'll reach the second princess,
Who is being held in a giant's castle.
Tomorrow evening,
You'll find the eldest princess.
You may as well bring them back with you.
There's no need to ask permission from their captors.
And maybe,
Just maybe,
When they return home,
They'll remember that poor people are just as human as they are.
Off went the prince,
And by the time he reached the first castle at sunset,
He was utterly exhausted and starving.
The second princess was overjoyed to see him,
And she wasted no time preparing him a hearty supper.
But as they sat together,
She suddenly heard the giant approaching the gate.
Quickly,
She hid the prince in the closet.
The giant stomped inside,
Sniffing the air suspiciously.
By my life,
I smell fresh meat,
He growled.
Oh,
The princess said casually,
That's just the calf I had slaughtered today.
Hmm,
Muttered the giant.
Is supper ready?
It is,
She replied.
He sat down and devoured nearly an entire calf and drained a whole flask of wine.
When he was done,
He leaned back,
Smacked his lips,
And sniffed the air again.
I swear,
I still smell fresh meat.
You must be tired,
She said quickly.
You should go to bed.
When are you going to marry me,
The giant grumbled.
You keep putting it off.
On St.
Tibb's Eve,
She answered.
I wish I knew how far off that is,
He muttered,
Before falling asleep right there at the table,
His head slumped into the dish.
The next morning after breakfast,
The second princess sent the prince on his way to the castle where the eldest sister was being held.
Everything played out just as before.
She was thrilled to see him,
Gave him a warm meal,
And hid him away when the giant returned.
But once the giant was snoring,
The princess woke the prince.
Together,
They saddled two horses from the stable and galloped out into the open fields.
Unfortunately,
As their horses' hooves struck the stones outside the gate,
The noise woke the giant.
He leaped up and came charging after them,
Roaring and bellowing as he ran.
The more he shouted,
The faster the horses ran,
But by the time dawn began to break,
He was only twenty perches behind them.
Luckily,
The prince had left seven inches his castle well prepared.
He pulled back on his reins,
Reached into his pouch,
And flung a short,
Sharp knife over his shoulder.
Instantly,
A thick forest sprang up between them and the giant,
Blocking his path.
With the wind at their backs speeding them forward,
And the wind behind the giant unable to catch them,
They rode on.
At last they neared the castle where the second princess lived.
There she stood,
Waiting beneath a tall hedge,
With a fine horse of her own ready to ride.
But now the giants were in sight,
Roaring like a hundred lions.
The second giant had joined the chase,
And they thundered across the fields.
For every two strides the horses took,
The giants took three,
Closing the gap between them.
Soon they were only seventy perches away.
Once again,
The prince reined in his horse and threw his second knife behind him.
Instantly,
The flat field collapsed into a massive quarry a quarter of a mile deep,
With dark water filling the bottom.
The giants skidded to a halt,
Unable to cross,
And by the time they found a way around,
The prince and princesses had already reached the great magician's kingdom.
For every two strides the horses took,
The giants took three,
Closing the gap between them.
Soon they were only seventy perches away.
Once again,
The prince reined in his horse and threw his second knife behind him.
Instantly,
The flat field collapsed into a massive quarry a quarter of a mile deep,
With dark water filling the bottom.
The giants skidded to a halt,
Unable to cross,
And by the time they found a way around,
The prince and princesses had already reached the great magician's kingdom.
At the entrance,
The tall thorny hedge that surrounded the land magically parted,
Allowing them through,
Just as it did for anyone the magician chose to admit.
The three sisters were overjoyed to be reunited,
But their happiness was short-lived when the two eldest saw their lovers still frozen in stone.
Tears streamed down their faces as they grieved.
Just then,
Seven Inches appeared,
Walked over to the statues,
And touched them with his rod.
In an instant,
The stone melted away and the princes were restored,
Flesh,
Blood,
And life once more.
The room filled with shouts of joy as everyone embraced,
And then they all sat down for breakfast,
With Seven Inches taking his place at the head of the table.
When the meal was finished,
He led them into another room where piles of gold,
Silver,
Diamonds,
Silks,
And satins shimmered in the light.
At the center of the table lay three sets of crowns,
A gold crown nested inside a silver one,
Which in turn rested inside a copper crown.
Seven Inches took one set and handed it to the eldest princess,
Another to the second princess,
And the last to the youngest.
Then he looked at them seriously and said,
Now you may return to the surface.
Just step into the basket and stir it.
Those waiting above will pull you up.
But listen carefully.
You must keep your crowns safe and wear them on your wedding day.
All three of you must be married on the same day wearing these crowns.
If you marry separately or without them,
A curse will follow.
Mark my words.
They bid farewell to Seven Inches with great respect and walked arm in arm toward the bottom of the well.
Above them stretched a bright sky and a shining sun,
While before them rose a towering wall covered in thick ivy,
So high they couldn't see its top.
At the base of the wall was an arched opening,
And inside that arch lay the well's entrance.
The youngest pair walked behind the others,
And as they went,
The princess whispered to her prince,
I don't trust the other two princes.
Keep these crowns hidden under your cloak,
And if you're left for last,
Don't get into the basket.
Put a heavy stone inside instead and see what happens.
Once inside the dark cave,
They placed the eldest princess into the basket first,
Stirred the rope and sent her up.
The basket was lowered again,
And the second princess followed.
Then came the youngest princess' turn,
But before stepping in she threw her arms around her prince,
Kissed him,
And shed a few quiet tears.
Finally,
It was the youngest princess' turn,
But instead of climbing in,
He placed a large stone inside the basket and stepped aside to watch.
The rope began to rise,
But just as the basket reached about twenty perches up,
It suddenly dropped,
Crashing down with a thunderous roar.
The stone shattered into countless tiny pieces.
Seeing this,
The poor prince realized he had been betrayed.
With no other choice,
He wandered back to the castle.
Day after day he roamed through its halls and gardens,
Feasting on the finest food and sleeping on the softest bed.
He took long walks across the lawns,
But no matter how hard he searched,
He saw no sign of Seven Inches.
By the end of a week,
Loneliness set in.
A month passed,
And he grew restless,
Aching for his true love and uncertain of what to do next.
One morning,
As he wandered into the treasure room,
His eyes fell upon a beautiful snuffbox resting on the table,
One he was certain hadn't been there before.
Curiously,
He picked it up and flipped it open.
To his amazement,
Seven Inches appeared right there on the table.
I suppose,
Prince,
He said with a knowing smile,
You're getting a bit tired of my castle?
Oh,
The prince exclaimed,
If only my princess were here,
And I could see you now and then,
I'd never know a lonely day.
Well,
Said Seven Inches,
You've been here long enough,
And there's someone up above who's waiting for you.
Keep your bride's crowns safe,
And whenever you need my help,
Just open the snuffbox.
Then he gestured toward the garden.
Take a walk,
Clear your mind,
And when you're ready,
Come back.
The prince was walking along a gravel path,
With hedges growing thick on either side,
His eyes fixed on the ground as his thoughts wandered.
He was lost in his own mind when he finally looked up,
And to his surprise,
He found himself standing outside a blacksmith's gate.
He recognized the place immediately.
It was about a mile from the palace where his betrothed princess lived.
His clothes were tattered and worn,
As ragged as could be,
But under his cloak,
He still had the crowns,
Safe and untouched.
Just then,
The blacksmith stepped outside and said,
It's a shame for a strong young man like you to be standing idle when there's so much work to be done.
Are you any good with a hammer and tongs?
Come in and lend a hand,
And I'll give you food,
A place to sleep,
And a few pence when you've earned them.
You don't have to ask me twice,
The prince replied.
I just want to stay busy.
So he picked up a hammer and began working away at the red-hot iron bar,
Pounding it into shape while the smith turned it on the anvil to make a set of horseshoes.
They hadn't been working long when a tailor came into the shop and sat down,
Eager to share some news.
Have you all heard?
He began.
The two eldest princesses refused to marry until the youngest had her crowns and her sweetheart.
But after the windlass slipped and her bridegroom fell,
The well vanished without a trace.
No rope,
No basket,
No windlass,
Nothing.
The princes who had been courting the eldest sisters wouldn't stop pressuring the king,
Demanding to move forward with the weddings.
At last the king gave in,
And the ceremony was set for this morning.
I went down to the palace just out of curiosity,
And oh,
What a sight it was.
The two brides looked magnificent in their gowns,
Each wearing three crowns stacked on their heads,
Gold inside silver and silver inside copper.
The youngest princess stood off to the side,
Looking heartbroken.
Everything was ready,
And when the two bridegrooms arrived,
They strutted in as proud as could be,
Walking up to the altar rails.
But just as they reached the front,
The floor beneath them split open two yards wide.
Down they went,
Straight into the vaults,
Right among the old coffins and the dead.
Oh,
The screams that filled the hall.
People were running,
Crying,
And peering into the hole in shock.
But soon the clerk unlocked the vault door,
And out they crawled.
Covered in inch-thickened cobwebs and mold,
Their fine clothes completely ruined.
After hearing this,
The prince stepped out into the morning light,
The snuffbox clutched tightly in his hand.
He made his way back toward the kingdom,
His heart pounding with anticipation.
By the time he reached the castle gates,
News of his return had spread like wildfire,
And a crowd had gathered,
Whispering and pointing as he walked through.
The youngest princess,
Who had spent her days in sorrow,
Caught sight of him and ran to meet him,
Tears of joy streaming down her face.
The king was both astonished and relieved to see the prince alive.
But as soon as he stepped into the hall,
The two older princes turned pale,
Knowing their secret had come to light.
The youngest prince stood tall and declared,
I was betrayed and left for dead,
But thanks to the wisdom of my bride,
I was spared,
And now I have returned to claim what was promised.
At that moment,
He revealed the crowns,
Still safely hidden beneath his cloak.
Gasps rippled through the room,
For it was clear he was the rightful groom.
Seven Inches,
Who had been watching from the shadows,
Stepped forward and nodded approvingly.
The test is complete,
He said.
The one who showed kindness,
Wisdom,
And patience has proven himself worthy.
With that,
He waved his rod once more,
And the two deceitful princesses found themselves unable to speak,
Their voices stolen as punishment.
The king,
Seeing justice done,
Ordered a grand wedding to be held that very day.
As promised,
All three princesses were married in their crowns,
Just as Seven Inches had instructed,
Ensuring that no curse would follow them.
The celebrations lasted for days,
And peace returned to the kingdom.
As for the youngest prince and his bride,
They lived as happily as the day was long,
Ruling with kindness and fairness,
Never forgetting the lessons they had learned along the way.
And so,
Their story was told,
And their adventure was finished,
Though some say if you listen closely on a quiet night,
You can still hear Seven Inches laughing in the wind,
Watching over those wise enough to heed his words.
Once upon a time,
There lived a girl who was wooed and married by a man she never saw,
For he came according her after nightfall.
And when they were married,
He never came home till it was dark,
And always left before dawn.
Still,
He was good and kind to her,
Giving her everything her heart could desire,
So she was well content for a while.
But after a bit,
Some of her friends,
Doubtless full of envy for her good luck,
Began to whisper that the unseen husband must have something dreadful the matter with him,
Which made him averse to being seen.
Now from the very beginning,
The girl had wondered why her lover did not come according her as other girls' lovers came,
Openly and by day.
And though,
At first,
She paid no heed to her neighbor's nods and winks,
She began at last to think there might be something in what they said.
So she determined to see for herself.
And one night,
When she heard her husband come into her room,
She lit her candle suddenly and saw him.
And lo and behold,
He was handsome as handsome,
Beautiful enough to make every woman in the world fall in love with him on the spot.
But even as she got her glimpse of him,
He changed into a big brown bird which looked at her with eyes full of anger and blame.
Because you have done this faithless thing,
It said,
You will see me no more unless for seven long years and a day you serve for me faithfully.
And she cried with tears and sobs.
I will serve seven times seven years and a day if you will only come back.
Tell me what am I to do?
Then the bird husband said,
I will place you in service,
And there you must remain and do good work for seven years and a day.
And you must listen to no man who may seek to beguile you to leave that service.
If you do,
I will never return.
To this the girl agreed,
And the bird,
Spreading its broad brown wings,
Carried her to a big mansion.
Here they need a laundry maid,
Said the bird husband.
Go in,
Ask to see the mistress,
And say you will do the work.
But remember,
You must do it for seven years and a day.
But I cannot do it for seven days,
Answered the girl.
I cannot wash or iron.
That matters nothing,
Replied the bird.
All you have to do is pluck three feathers from under my wing close to my heart,
And these feathers will do your bidding whatever it may be.
You will only have to put them on your hand and say,
By virtue of these three feathers from over my true love's heart may this be done,
And it will be done.
So the girl plucked three feathers from under the bird's wing,
And after that the bird flew away.
Then the girl did as she was bidden,
And the lady of the house engaged her for the place,
And never was such a quick laundress,
For,
You see,
She had only to go into the wash house,
Bolt the door,
And close the shutters so that no one should see what she was at.
Then she would out with the three feathers and say,
By virtue of these three feathers from over my true love's heart may the copper be lit,
The clothes sorted,
Washed,
Boiled,
Dried,
Folded,
Mangled,
Ironed,
And lo,
There they came,
Tumbling onto the table,
Clean and white,
Quite ready to be put away.
So her mistress sat great store by her and said there was never such a good laundry maid.
Thus,
Four years passed,
And there was no talk of her leaving,
But the other servants grew jealous of her,
All the more so,
Because,
Being a very pretty girl,
All the men servants fell in love with her and wanted to marry her.
But she would have none of them,
Because she was always waiting and longing for the day when her bird husband would come back to her in man's form.
Now one of the men who wanted her was the stout butler,
And one day as he was coming back from the cider house,
He chanced to stop by the laundry,
And he heard a voice say,
By virtue of these three feathers from over my true love's heart may the copper be lit,
The clothes sorted,
Boiled,
Dried,
Folded,
Mangled,
And ironed.
He thought this was very strange,
So he peeked through the keyhole,
And there was the girl,
Sitting at her ease in a chair,
While all the clothes came flying to the table,
Ready and fit to put away.
Well,
That night,
He went to the girl and said that if she turned up her nose at him,
And his proposal any longer,
He would up and tell the mistress that her fine laundress was nothing but a witch,
And then,
Even if she were not burnt alive,
She would lose her place.
Now the girl was in great distress what to do,
Since if she were not faithful to her bird husband,
Or if she failed to serve her seven years in a day in one service,
He would alike fail to return.
So she made an excuse by saying she could think of no one who did not give her enough money to satisfy her.
At this the stout butler laughed.
Money,
Said he,
I have seventy pounds laid by with master,
Won't that satisfy thee?
Happen it would,
She replied.
So the very next night the butler came to her with the seventy pounds in gold and sovereigns,
And she held out her apron and took them,
Saying she was content,
For she had thought of a plan.
Now,
As they were going upstairs together,
She stopped and said,
Mr.
Butler,
Excuse me for a minute,
I have left the shutters of the wash house open,
And I must shut them,
Or they will be banging all night and disturb master and missus.
Now though the butler was stout and beginning to grow old,
He was anxious to seem young,
So he said at once,
Excuse me,
My beauty,
You shall not go,
I will go and shut them,
I shan't be a moment.
So off he set,
And no sooner had he gone than she out with her three feathers,
And putting them on her hand,
Said in a hurry,
By virtue of the three feathers,
From over my true love's heart,
May the shutters never cease banging till morning,
And may Mr.
Butler's hands be busy trying to shut them.
And so it happened.
Mr.
Butler shut the shutters,
But there they were hanging open again.
Then he shut them once more,
And this time they hit him on the face as they flew open,
Yet he couldn't stop,
He had to go on.
So there he was the whole life long night,
Such a cursing and a banging and swearing and shutting never was,
Until dawn came,
And too tired to be really angry,
He crept back to his bed,
Resolving that come what might,
He would not tell what had happened to him,
And thus get the laugh on him.
So he kept his own counsel,
And the girl kept the seventy pounds,
And laughed in her sleeve at her would-be lover.
Now after a time,
The coachman,
A spruce middle-aged man,
Who had long wanted to marry the clever pretty laundry maid,
Going to the pump to get water for his horses,
Overheard her giving orders to the three feathers,
And peeping through the keyhole as the butler had done,
Saw her sitting at her ease in a chair,
While the clothes,
All washed and ironed and mangled,
Came flying to the table.
So,
Just as the butler had done,
He went to the girl and said,
I have you now my pretty,
Don't dare to turn up your nose at me,
For if you do,
I'll tell mistress you're a witch.
Then the girl said quite calmly,
I look on none who has no money.
If that is all,
Replied the coachman,
I have forty pounds laid by with master.
That I'll bring,
And ask for payment tomorrow night.
So when the night came,
The girl held out her apron for the money,
And as she was going up the stairs,
She stopped suddenly and said,
Goody me,
I've left my clothes on the line,
Stop a bit till I fetch them in.
Now,
The coachman was really a very polite fellow,
So he said at once,
Let me go,
It is a cold and windy night,
And you'll be catching your death.
So off he went,
And the girl out with her feathers and said,
By virtue of the three feathers from over my true love's heart,
May the clothes slash and blow about till dawn,
And may Mr.
Coachman not be able to gather them up or take his hand from the job.
Then when she had said this,
She went quietly to bed,
For she knew what would happen.
And sure enough it did.
Never was such a night as Mr.
Coachman spent with the wet clothes flittering and fluttering about his ears,
And the sheets wrapping him into a bundle and tripping him up while the towels slashed at his legs.
But though he smarted all over,
He had to go on till dawn came,
And then a very weary coachman couldn't even creep away to his bed,
For he had to feed and water his horses,
And he also kept his own counsel for fear of the laugh going against him.
So the clever laundrymaid put the forty pounds with the seventy in her box and went on with her work gaily.
But after a time,
The footman,
Who was quite an honest lad and truly in love,
Going by the laundry peeped through the keyhole to get a glimpse of his dearest dear,
And what should he see but her sitting at her ease in a chair,
And the clothes coming already folded and ironed onto the table.
Now when he saw this,
He was greatly troubled.
So he went to his master and drew out all his savings,
And then he went to the girl and told her that he would have to tell the mistress what he had seen unless she consented to marry him.
You see,
He said,
I have been with master this while back,
And have saved up this bit,
And you have been here this long while back,
And must have saved as well,
So let us put the two together and make a home,
Or I'll stay on at service as pleases you.
Well,
She tried to put him off,
But he insisted so much that at last she said,
James,
There's a dear.
Run down to the cellar and fetch me a drop of brandy.
You've made me feel so strange.
And when he had gone,
She out with her three feathers and said,
By virtue of the three feathers from over my true love's heart,
May James not be able to pour the brandy straight except down his throat.
Well,
So it happened.
Try as he would,
James could not get the brandy into the glass.
It splashed a few drops into it,
Then it trickled over his hand and fell on the floor,
And so it went on and on till he grew so tired that he thought he needed a dram himself.
So he tossed off a few drops and began again,
But he fared no better.
So he took another little drain and went on and on and on till he got quite fuddled.
And who should come down into the cellar but his master to know what the smell of brandy meant?
Now,
James the footman was truthful as well as honest,
So he told the master how he had come down to get the sick laundrymaid a drop of brandy,
But that his hand had shaken so that he could not pour it out,
And it had fallen on the ground,
And that smell of it had got to his head.
A likely tale,
Said the master,
And beat James soundly.
Then the master went to the mistress,
His wife,
And said,
Send away that laundrymaid of yours.
Something has come over my men.
They have all drawn out their savings as if they were going to be married,
Yet they don't leave,
And I believe that girl is at the bottom of it.
But his wife would not hear of the laundrymaid being blamed.
She was the best servant in the house,
And worth all the rest of them put together.
It was his men who were at fault.
So they quarreled over it,
But in the end the master gave in,
And after this there was peace,
Since the mistress bade the girl keep to herself,
And none of the men would say odd of what had happened for fear of the laughter of the other servants.
So it went on until one day,
When the master was going a-driving,
The coach was at the door,
And the footman was standing to hold the coach open,
And the butler on the steps all ready,
When who should pass through the yard,
So saucy and bright,
With a great basket of clean clothes but the laundrymaid?
And the sight of her was too much for James the footman,
Who began to blub.
She is a wicked girl,
He said.
She got all my savings,
And got me a good thrashing besides.
Then the coachman grew bold.
Did she,
He said?
That was nothing to what she served me.
So we up and told all about the wet clothes,
And the awful job he had had the live long night.
Now the butler on the steps swelled with rage,
Until he nearly burst,
And at last he out with his night of banging shutters.
And one,
He said,
Hit me on the nose.
This settled the three men,
And they agreed to tell their master the moment he came out,
And get the girl sent about her business.
Now the laundrymaid had sharp ears,
And had paused behind a door to listen.
So when she heard this,
She knew she must do something to stop it.
So she out with her three feathers and said,
By virtue of the three feathers from over my true love's heart,
May there be striving as to who suffered most between the men,
So that they get into the pond for a ducking.
Well,
No sooner had she said the words,
Than the three men began disputing as to which of them had been served the worst.
Then James up and hit the stout butler,
Giving him a black eye,
And the fat butler fell upon James and pommeled him hard,
While the coachman scrambled from his box and belabored them both,
And the laundrymaid stood by laughing.
So out comes the master,
But none of them would listen,
And each wanted to be heard,
And fought and shoved and pommeled away until they shoved each other into the pond,
And all got a fine ducking.
Then the master asked the girl what it was all about,
And she said,
They all wanted to tell a story against me because I won't marry them,
And one said his was the best,
And the next said his was the best,
So they fell a quarreling as to which was the likeliest story to get me into trouble.
But they are well punished,
So there is no need to do more.
Then the master went to his wife and said,
You are right,
That laundrymaid of yours is a very wise girl.
So the butler and the coachman and James had nothing to do but look sheepish and hold their tongues,
And the laundrymaid went on with her duties without further trouble.
Then,
When the seven years in a day were over,
Who should drive up to the door in a fine gilded coach but the bird husband,
Restored to his shape as a handsome young man,
And he carried the laundrymaid off to be his wife again,
And her master and mistress were so pleased at her good fortune that they ordered all the other servants to stand on the steps and give her good luck.
So as she passed the butler,
She put a bag with seventy pounds in it into his hand and said sweetly,
That is to recompense you for shutting the shutters.
And when she passed the coachman,
She put a bag with forty pounds into his hand and said,
That is your reward for bringing in the clothes.
But when she passed the footman,
She gave him a bag with a hundred pounds in it and laughed saying,
That is for the drop of brandy you never brought me.
So she drove off with her handsome husband and lived happily ever after.
The weird witch of the willow herb lived in a pink cottage on the top of a hill.
She was merry and beautiful and wise and kind,
And she was all dressed in pink and green,
And she had great eyes that were sometimes filled with laughter and sometimes filled with tears,
And her round soft mouth looked as though it had done nothing but smile for hundreds and hundreds of years.
Her pink cottage was the most charming place in the world to live.
The walls were made of the flower of the willow herb,
And the roof was made of the green leaves,
And the floors were made of the white down,
And all the little lattice windows were cobwebs spun by the spiders who live in Fairyland and make the windows for the Fairy Queen's own palace.
And no one but a fairy could have said how long the weird witch of the willow herb had been living in her cottage on the top of the hill.
Now,
Anyone might think that this wonderful witch was so sweet and so wise that all sorts of people would be coming all day long to ask her to help them,
For of course,
That is what a witch is for.
But this particular witch,
Who lived in her pink cottage on the top of the hill,
Had not been living there all that time for nothing.
If I did not keep a few spells lying about at the bottom of the hill,
I should never have a moment's peace,
Chuckled the witch of the willow herb.
And that is why most of the people who came to ask her for spells never got as far as the pink cottage at all,
For they found what they wanted at the bottom of the hill,
And no doubt that saved everybody a great deal of trouble.
Poor people,
Said the weird witch,
With her voice full of kindness.
Why should I make them climb up all this way just to see me?
Sometimes,
However,
It did happen that somebody got to the top of the hill,
Or else it is clear that the story would never have been written.
For one day,
As the witch sat on the doorstep of her pink cottage,
Looking out over the world with her great eyes that saw everything,
The little princess Winsome came running up the white path that twisted round and round and up and up until it reached the cottage at the top,
And she did not stop running until she stood in front of the weird witch herself.
She looked as though she must have come along in a great hurry,
For she had lost one of her shoes on the way,
And there was quite an important scratch on her dimpled chin.
But of course,
It is difficult to walk sedately when one is going to call on a witch.
I am Princess Winsome,
She announced,
As soon as she had breath enough to speak.
To be sure you are,
Smiled the weird witch,
Who knew that before,
And you have run away from home because?
Because I want to find the bravest boy in the world,
Interrupted the princess,
Who never liked to let anybody else do the talking.
Are they all cowards in your country then?
Asked the witch.
Oh no,
Answered Princess Winsome,
The boys in my country are so brave,
That it is no fun playing with them.
They stop all the games by fighting about nothing at all,
And it's dreadfully dull when you're a girl,
Isn't it?
Perhaps it is,
Smiled the witch.
Then why are you looking for the bravest boy of all?
Ah,
Said the princess wisely,
The bravest boy of all would never fight unless there was a reason,
You see,
And so we should have lots of time to play.
But how am I to find him?
The only way to find him is to let him find you,
Said the weird witch,
And the best thing I can do for you is to shut you up in the middle of an enchanted forest,
Where no one but the bravest boy in the world would ever come to find anyone.
Now,
Make haste,
Or you won't get there in time.
And the princess with the scratch on her chin must certainly have made haste,
For she had quite disappeared by the time the witch's next visitor came up the winding white path,
And that happened the very next minute.
This time it was a boy who came along,
A tall,
Strong,
Jolly-looking boy,
With his hands in his pockets and his cap at the back of his head,
Whistling a strange wild tune that was made up of all songs of all the birds in the air,
So that as he whistled it,
Every bird for miles round stopped to listen.
I am Kit the Coward,
He said,
Pulling off his cap to the witch.
To be sure you are,
Smiled the weird witch,
Who knew that too.
And you have run away from home because the other boys call you a coward,
And you want to show them that you are as brave as they are,
Only you won't fight without a reason.
Isn't that it?
Of course it is,
Answered Kit,
Who liked to have his talking done for him.
But how shall I find something worth fighting about?
That's not difficult,
Said the weird witch.
All you have to do is go to the court of King Hurley Burley,
And ask him to give you something brave to do.
The king is always going to war about something,
So you will soon have as much fighting as you want.
Now,
Be off with you,
Or else someone will get there before you.
All right,
Said Kit,
Which is the way?
Any way you like,
Laughed the weird witch.
But in what direction?
Asked Kit.
It doesn't matter,
Laughed the weird witch.
So Kit made her another bow,
And marched away again down the hillside,
Whistling the same tune as before,
And all the birds of the air came flying along when they heard it,
And they flew in front of him to show him the way,
And he followed them over the meadows and streams,
And orchards and cornfields,
Until they brought him to the walls of King Hurley Burley's city.
And they would not have left him then,
If he had not pointed out to them,
Most politely,
That although it was very obliging of them to have come so far with him,
He would find it a little inconvenient to travel any further with so many companions.
So they flew away again,
And Kit marched into the city,
And up to the gates of the king's palace.
I have come to fight for the king,
Said Kit,
When the guards came out and asked him what he wanted.
And he looked such a strong,
Fine fellow,
That they took him at once to the king.
You have come in the very nick of time,
Said King Hurley Burley,
For the commander-in-chief of the royal forces has overslept himself so often,
That I had him beheaded this morning before he was awake.
The army is in consequence without a head,
As well as the commander-in-chief.
So if you will become their general,
And invade the country of my neighbour,
King Topsy-Turvy,
I shall be much obliged to you.
Why have I got to invade the country of King Topsy-Turvy?
Demanded Kit.
The king pushed his crown on one side,
Which he always did when he felt puzzled.
Now you come to mention it,
He said.
I believe there was a reason,
But for the life of me I can't remember what it was.
However,
The reason is of no importance.
Oh yes it is,
Interrupted Kit.
I can't possibly fight without a reason,
You know.
That's awkward,
Said King Hurley Burley.
Perhaps the army will know.
And he sent a message,
To ask the soldiers why they were going to war.
But although the soldiers were all ready to begin fighting,
They had not the least idea what the war was about.
So the king's crown became more crooked than before.
Won't it do if you invent a reason?
He asked Kit.
For he could not help thinking how nice it would be to stay home while his soldiers were being led to war by someone else.
You may marry the Princess Winsome if you come back victorious,
He added as an afterthought.
But Kit only shook his head.
He had never heard of the Princess Winsome,
And he was not going to fight anybody without a very good reason for it.
Then King Hurley Burley had a brilliant idea.
Go and declare war on the enemy to begin with,
He said.
And perhaps they will remember the reason.
There was certainly no harm in declaring war,
So Kit rode off at once on one of the king's fastest horses,
And arrived the next morning at the court of King Topsy-Turvy just as his majesty was sitting down to breakfast.
I have come from King Hurley Burley to declare war,
Said Kit,
Who always went straight to the point.
What for?
Asked King Topsy-Turvy.
I don't know,
Said Kit.
That's what I want you to tell me.
The king ate two eggs before he replied.
Well,
He said presently.
I believe I said Hurley Burley was a shocking old muddler.
I suppose that's it.
All right.
When do you want to begin?
I don't want to begin at all,
Answered Kit.
Why did you say he was a muddler?
Oh,
Just to make conversation,
Said King Topsy-Turvy,
Helping himself to marmalade.
Then you don't really think he is an old muddler,
Asked Kit.
Dear me,
No,
Said King Topsy-Turvy.
I never think.
Then write that down on a piece of paper,
And there needn't be a war at all,
Cried Kit.
The king stroked his beard.
Perhaps there needn't,
He agreed,
But I never write.
I do,
Though,
Said Kit,
Who had learned to write while all the other boys were making catapults.
You've only got to sign your name here.
King Topsy-Turvy stopped eating breakfast just long enough to sign the beautiful apology Kit had written on a sheet of note paper,
And then Kit jumped on his horse again and rode back to the palace of King Hurley Burley.
Well,
Said His Majesty,
Did you discover the reason?
There wasn't a reason,
And there isn't going to be a war,
Answered Kit,
And he held out the beautifully written apology from King Topsy-Turvy.
What?
Cried His Majesty in alarm.
Do you mean to say you've stopped the war?
Of course I have,
Said Kit,
And I have come back victorious,
As you see.
Didn't you say something about a princess?
But,
Stammered the king,
How am I to appease the army?
The army has set its heart on a war.
So had I,
Answered Kit sadly,
But I never can find anything worth fighting about.
Meanwhile,
Where is the princess?
You have not won the princess,
Said King Hurley Burley,
Who was now thoroughly cross.
I believe you are a miserable coward.
That is what the other boys say,
Answered Kit smiling.
It is not my fault that there is nothing to fight about.
Will you please send for the princess?
The princess has run away from home,
So I can't send for her,
Said the king irritably.
She is shut up in an enchanted forest,
And surrounded with wild beasts and magic spells and giants.
It is not at all a nice place for a princess to be in,
But how am I to get her away?
Why?
Exclaimed Kit laughing.
Here is something for your army to do.
Let it go and rescue the princess.
Nothing would induce the army to go near the place,
Explained the king sorrowfully.
The army is too much afraid of being bewitched.
Hurrah,
Shouted Kit,
Laughing more than ever.
At last,
I have found something brave to do.
I will go and rescue the princess.
So Kit the coward started out on his travels once more,
And no sooner did he get outside the city gates than he began to whistle his wonderful tune,
And down swept all the birds of the air in hundreds,
And they flew in front of him as before,
And led him to the very edge of the enchanted forest.
There they left him,
For no one can help anybody to go through an enchanted forest,
And Kit knew fast enough that he must find the princess by himself.
He was not a bit afraid though,
And he plunged straight into the wood without looking back.
He had not taken two steps before he had completely lost himself.
The trees were so thick overhead that not a streak of sunshine was able to get through,
And the forest was so full of wild beasts that it was impossible to walk five yards without tumbling over a lion or a bear.
But this did not frighten Kit at all,
For he had learned to talk the language of the woods all the time that the other boys were knocking one another on the head.
And so he soon made friends with every animal in the forest,
And they told him the best places to find apples and nuts and blackberries,
And the bees brought him the very best honey they could make,
And he grew so happy and so contented that he quite forgot he was enchanted and could not escape if he wanted to.
But it is impossible to be happy for long when one is bewitched,
And one day,
Kit found himself in a part of the forest that was more horrible and more frightening than any dark passage that was ever invented on the way to any nursery.
It was not only dark,
But it was strangely silent as well,
And a curious feeling of gloom and unhappiness suddenly crept over Kit.
If it had been a nice sort of silence,
The sort we find when we get away from the other boys and girls into a place where it is quiet enough to hear the real sounds of the air,
Kit would still have been quite happy.
But here,
There was nothing to be heard at all,
Not even the brushing of leaves,
Nor the blooming of the flowers,
Nor the growing of the grass.
But the most frightening thing of all was when he clapped his hands together and stamped as hard as he could on the ground,
For not a sound did he make.
And when he tried to speak,
He found he could only whisper,
And when he burst out laughing,
He made no more noise than if he had been smiling.
Still,
He kept his wits about him,
For,
Of course,
There was the princess to be rescued,
And at last he thought of trying to whistle.
At first he could not make a note sound in the stillness,
But he went on trying until the wonderful tune he had learned long ago from the birds themselves began to echo once more through the silent forest.
He did not get an answer at once,
For really nice birds cannot be expected to go out of their way to a place where there is no sunshine and the flowers cannot enter into the conversation with them.
But after a while,
A very fat blackbird,
Who certainly had impudence enough for anything,
Came hopping along from branch to branch until he landed on Kit's shoulder,
And with him came sunshine and sound and merriment into the very heart of the melancholy forest,
For none of these things are ever far off when a blackbird is near.
Kit gave a shout of joy and hastened after the blackbird who was hopping along the ground in front of him,
And the next minute he found himself standing in a blaze of sunlight in front of a high stone wall.
Beyond the wall he could see the tall towers of a great castle,
But he did not trouble himself much about the other side of the wall,
For on the top of it,
With the sunshine pouring all over her,
Sat the most charming little girl he had ever seen.
She had lost one of her shoes,
And there was the faintest sign of a scratch on her round,
Dimpled chin,
And her long black hair flowed round her shoulders in a way that some people might have called untidy,
But Kit was sure,
Directly he saw her,
That she had come straight out of fairyland,
And he was too amazed even to make her a bow.
Dear me,
What are you doing here?
Asked the girl in a tone of great surprise.
Kit took a step nearer the wall and pulled off his cap.
Her voice reminded him that although she belonged to fairyland,
She was still a little girl,
And would expect him to remember his manners.
I have come to rescue the princess,
He said.
Can you tell me where she is?
She lives in the castle over there,
Answered the girl.
What are you going to do when you have rescued her?
Well,
I suppose I shall ask her to marry me,
Said Kit.
Do you think she will?
Ah,
She replied gravely.
That depends on whether you have my permission.
Tell me who you are to begin with.
I am Kit the Coward,
He said simply,
And he stared when she broke into the merriest peal of laughter imaginable.
What nonsense,
She cried.
If you were a coward,
You would never have got here at all.
Is that true?
Asked Kit eagerly.
Then do you think the princess will marry me?
The girl looked down at him for a moment with her untidy little head on one side.
Then she bent and held out her two hands to him.
I think,
Perhaps,
The princess will,
She said softly.
If you will help me down from this enormous high wall,
We will go and ask her.
So Kit lifted her down from the wall,
Which was quite an easy matter,
For it was in reality no higher than he was,
And the little girl was certainly the lightest weight he had ever held in his arms.
What are you looking for?
He asked when he had set her on the ground,
For she was kneeling down and turning over the dry leaves in a most distressed manner.
I am looking for my crown,
Of course,
She said with a pout.
It tumbled off my head just before you came,
And I was too frightened to jump all that long way to find it.
Here it is,
Said Kit,
As he picked up the little glittering crown and set it gently on the top of her beautiful rumbled hair.
Then he started back in surprise.
You are the princess,
He shouted.
Of course I am,
Laughed Princess Winsome,
Putting her hand in his.
I knew that all the time.
Shall we go home now?
Kit did not reply immediately,
For no one can do two things at once,
And it took him quite a long time to kiss the small soft hand that lay in his one big one.
And as for going home,
When they did start,
They did not get very far,
For it must not be forgotten that they were still in an enchanted forest,
And it is easier to get into an enchanted forest than to get out of it again.
However,
As they had everything in the world to talk about,
They would probably have been most annoyed if they had found their way instead of losing it.
So they just went on losing it as happily as possible,
Until they could not walk another step because an immense giant was occupying the whole of the roadway.
There he sat,
Smoking a great pipe that looked like a chimney pot that wanted sweeping,
And when the princess saw him,
She was so frightened that she hid herself behind Kit and peeped under his arm to see what was going to happen.
Hello,
Said the giant,
In a huge voice that made the grass stand on end with fright,
Just as it does after a horror frost.
What's this?
You're running away with the princess?
To be sure I am,
Said Kit,
And if you don't let me pass,
I shall have to kill you.
Oh dear,
Sighed the giant,
Raising a wind that made the trees shiver for miles round.
They all say that,
And there's no peace for a poor giant nowadays.
When I was a boy,
The prince was always put under a spell as well as the princess.
However,
I suppose I must make an end of you if you are determined to fight.
And he laid down his pipe and rose most unwillingly to his feet.
Kit laughed out loud with gladness,
For at last he had found a good reason for a fight,
And no one would be able to call him a coward anymore.
But before there was time to strike a single blow,
The giant gave a loud howl of alarm,
Took to his heels,
And in another moment was completely out of sight.
Kit turned in amazement to his little princess,
And then he saw what had frightened the giant.
For all the animals of the forest,
All the lions and the tigers and the bears and the wolves stood there in rows,
Waiting to help him.
So there is no doubt that the giant would have been killed by somebody if he had not run away.
Isn't it wonderful,
Said the princess in a whisper?
But Kit covered his face with his hands.
It is no use,
He said in a disappointed tone.
The other boys will never believe that I'm not a coward.
Princess Swinsome came and pulled his hands away and laughed softly.
I think you're the bravest boy in the world,
She said.
Of course he is,
Chuckled a boy somewhere near.
How stupid some people are,
To be sure.
And there sat the weird witch under a tree,
All in her pink and green gown,
With her great eyes brimful of fun and nonsense.
And as the boy and girl stood hand in hand before her,
And caught the glance of her beautiful witch's eyes,
All sorts of muddles fell out of their heads,
And they began to understand everything that had been puzzling them for years and years and years.
That only shows what a witch can do when she's the right sort of witch.
Dear little princess,
Cried Kit,
It doesn't matter whether the other boys believe me or not,
So long as you know that I'm not a coward.
Besides,
Added Prince Swinsome,
We're not going to try to make anybody believe anything.
I think we'll stay here instead,
Forever and ever and always.
A very good idea,
Smiled the weird witch of the willow herb,
As she nodded at them both.
Always remain enchanted if you can.
So,
They had the nicest and the funniest wedding possible on the spot,
And there was no time wasted in sending out invitations,
For all the guests were already waiting there in rows,
With the exception of the singing birds,
And Kit very soon summoned them by whistling a few notes of his wonderful tune.
The princess laid her own wedding breakfast under the trees,
And the wedding guests helped her by bringing her everything that was nice to eat in the forest,
Such as roasted chestnuts and preserved fruits and truffles,
And barley sugar cane,
And lots of dewdrops and honey drops and pear drops.
And the weird witch completed the feast by turning a piece of rock that nobody wanted into a wedding cake.
And everyone will agree that it is better for a rock to turn into a wedding cake than for a wedding cake to turn into a rock.
And all the flowers came of their own accord,
And arranged themselves on the table,
Which they certainly did much more prettily than anybody else could have done it for them.
And when the wedding was over,
They just walked away again instead of stopping until they were dead,
Which of course is what they would have done at any other wedding.
And although the bride had lost her other shoe,
By the time she was ready to be married,
And although her beautiful hair was more untidy than ever,
And her crown had tumbled off again and had to be brought to her by an obliging lion,
Kit never noticed any of these things,
And only felt quite certain that he was marrying somebody who had come right out of fairyland and was not an ordinary princess at all.
No doubt it was because he was in an enchanted forest that he had made such a mistake,
And no doubt it is because he has never been disenchanted since he is making the same mistake to this day.
As for the weird witch of the willow herb,
She went back to her pink cottage on the top of the hill so as to be ready to make the next person happy who came up the white winding path.
But before she went,
She took care that all the singing birds should fly back to Kit's home and tell the other birds how brave he had been,
Which they did with the greatest pleasure imaginable.
It is said that the story became slightly exaggerated,
But when we know how much one little bird can tell,
It is not difficult to imagine the kind of story that could be told by hundreds and hundreds of little birds.
There was once a windmill,
Which stood on the downs by the sea,
Far from any town or village,
And in which the miller lived alone with his little daughter.
His wife had died when the little girl,
Whose name was Lucilla,
Was a baby,
And so the miller lived by himself with his child,
Of whom he was very proud.
As her father was busy with his work,
And as little Lucilla had no other children to play with,
She was alone nearly all day and had to amuse herself as best she could,
And one of her greatest pleasures was to sit and watch the great sails of the windmill figures like them,
And they held each other by the hand and were dancing and springing from the ground as lightly as if they had been made of feather down.
Come,
Sisters,
Come,
Cried the one nearest Lucilla.
See,
Here is a little human child out here,
Alone at twelve o'clock at night.
Come and let us play with her.
Who are you?
Asked Lucilla.
My name is Lucilla,
And I live in the mill with my father.
We are wind fairies,
Said the first gray figure.
Wind fairies?
Said Lucilla.
What are they?
We blow the winds and sweep the earth.
When there are many of us together,
We make a great hurricane,
And human beings are frightened.
We it is who turn your mill wheel for you,
And make all the little waves on the sea.
If you will come with us,
We will take you for a ride on one of the sails of your mill,
That is,
If you will be brave and not cry.
I will not cry one bit,
Said Lucilla,
And she sprang up and held out her arms.
At once she was lifted up,
And felt herself going higher and higher,
Till she rested on one of the great windmill sails,
And,
With the little gray elves beside her,
Was sweeping through the air,
Clinging to the sail.
She is quite good,
Whispered one,
As she held Lucilla in her tiny white arms.
I really think we might teach her to dance,
For she has not cried at all.
No,
She would surely tell someone if we did,
Said another.
Little human child,
Would you like us to teach you how to dance as we dance?
Yes,
Yes,
Cried Lucilla,
And now they were sweeping down near the ground,
And the fairies slid off the sail with Lucilla in their arms,
And let her slide gently to the earth.
Teach me to dance,
I beg.
I will never tell anybody.
Ah,
But that is what all mortals say,
Whispered one who had not spoken yet.
No mortal can keep a secret.
Never yet was one known who could be silent.
Try me,
Cried Lucilla again.
I will never tell,
Indeed I will not,
And she looked entreatingly from one to another of the elves.
But if you did,
Said they,
If you broke your promise to us,
When once you had made it,
We should punish you severely.
But I promise faithfully,
Repeated Lucilla,
I will never tell anyone.
Well then,
You may try,
They said.
Only remember,
If you break your word to us,
And tell any mortal who it was that taught you how to dance,
You will never dance again,
For your feet will become heavy as lead,
And not only that,
But some great misfortune will overtake whatever you love best in the world.
But if you keep faith with us,
Then the wind fairies will never forget you,
But will come to your help in your direst hour of need.
Teach me,
Teach me,
Cried Lucilla.
Indeed,
I will never,
Never tell,
And I long to dance as you do.
Come then,
They said,
And some came behind her,
And some went in front of her,
And some took her arms and some her feet,
And all at once Lucilla felt as if she were made a feather down.
She swayed up and down as lightly as they,
And it seemed to her quite easy.
Never had she been so happy,
And she would gladly have danced for hours,
But suddenly,
Just as the sun was beginning to show a red light in the sky,
She heard her father's horse galloping over the downs,
And in an instant the wind fairies had vanished.
When the miller came up to her,
He was angry with her,
For being out on the grass instead of warm in bed,
But Lucilla dared not tell him what had kept her,
Or say that she had been playing with the wind fairies.
Years passed,
And Lucilla never saw the wind fairies again,
Though she watched for them every night.
She grew up to be a beautiful young woman,
And her father was very proud of her.
She was as tall and as lithe as a willow wand,
And when she ran or danced,
It seemed as if she were as light as a feather blown in the window.
There were few people to see her,
Or tell her she was beautiful,
For save the fisherfolk,
Who lived in little cottages on the beach.
Scarce anybody came down to the downs,
But all who saw her admired her beauty,
And most of all her wonderful dancing.
Sometimes she would go out on the downs,
And dance and run there by herself,
And her father would look at her and say,
Heaven help the maid,
I don't know whom she has learned it from,
But I have never seen a dancer who can come nigh her.
Then sometimes she would go down to the seashore,
And this she loved to do best of all,
And there she would dance with the waves,
And move with them as they slid up to her feet and drew back,
And to those who watched,
It seemed as if she and they were one together.
The time came when her father wished her to be married,
And among the young fishermen and the country folk who came to the mill from the farms across the country,
She had suitors enough,
But always she said when a young man came to woo her,
First let me see how you can dance,
For as dancing is the thing I love best in the world,
It would be a pity that I and my husband should not be able to dance together,
And as none of them could dance as she did,
She sent them all away,
Saying she would wait for her husband till she could find a man who could dance to her liking.
But one day there was a great storm,
And a big ship was blown onto the shore close to the mill,
And among the sailors was a young fellow with black curly hair and bright eyes and white teeth,
And when he saw Lucilla he said to himself,
I will wed that girl and take her home for my wife.
So one day as they sat on the downs together,
He begged her to marry him,
And go back with him to his own land.
He said he would give up going to sea,
And would live with her in a little cottage,
And make their bread by fishing.
Then Lucilla said,
As she had said to all her other suitors,
First let me see how you can dance,
For I will never marry any man who cannot dance with me.
The sailor swore he could dance as well as any man in the world,
For all sailors can dance,
He said,
And they began to dance together on the downs.
The sailor danced well and merrily,
But Lucilla danced faster,
And seemed as if she were made of feather down,
And then the sailor,
Seeing that his dancing was as nothing to hers,
Caught her by the waist,
And held her still crying,
My sweetheart,
I cannot dance as you can,
But my arms are strong enough to hold you still,
And keep you from dancing with any man but me.
So Lucilla married the sailor,
And went with him to live in his little cottage by the sea,
Many miles away from the mill,
And as her father was growing old,
And no longer cared to work,
He went with her too.
For some time the sailor and Lucilla lived together very happily,
And they had two little children,
And her husband fished and sold his fish,
And often still Lucilla would go down to the waves and dance with them as she had done in her old home.
She tried to teach her little children to dance as she did,
But they could not learn,
Because the wind fairies had never touched them.
But one winter her husband's boat was dashed to pieces,
And the sea froze,
So that all the fish died,
And they became so poor that they could barely get enough to eat.
Then it chanced that a big ship came to the village where they lived,
And the captain wanted men for a long journey,
And her husband told Lucilla that he had Bespo with him,
And then he would have enough money to buy another boat,
And then next year they must hope for better luck.
So Lucilla was left alone in the cottage with her father and her two children,
And she felt very lonely and sad without her husband,
And often she thought of the mill and the wind fairies.
And when the wind blew she would go down to the water's edge and hold out her arms and pray them to take care of her husband's ship and bring it safe home again.
Oh,
Kind fairies,
She cried,
See,
I have kept faith with you,
So do you now keep faith with me,
And do me no hurt.
And often she would dance by the edge of the waves as she used to do in her old home,
And think that the wind fairies were dancing with her and holding up her steps.
Now it chanced that one day as Lucilla was dancing on the shore,
There rode by two horsemen,
And they stopped and watched her as she danced,
With the waves coming close to her feet.
Then they got down from their horses and asked who she was,
And where she had learned such dancing.
She told them she was only the wife of a poor fisherman,
But she had danced for long years since she was a little child,
When she had lived in a windmill on the downs far away.
They rode away,
But next day they came again,
And brought others with them,
And begged Lucilla that she would go down to the water's edge and dance with the waves as she had done yesterday.
So she ran down the beach,
And danced in time to the sea as it moved,
And the strangers all applauded and said to each other,
It is wonderful,
It is marvelous.
They then told her that they came from a country where the king loved nothing so much as beautiful dancing,
And that he would give great sums of money to anyone who danced well,
And if she would go back with them to his court and dance before the king,
She should have a sack of gold to take home with her,
And this would make her a rich woman,
And her husband would never have need to work anymore.
At first she refused,
And said her husband was away,
And would not know where she was gone,
And she did not like to leave her two little children,
But still the courtiers persuaded her,
And said it would not be for long,
And her father persuaded her too,
Since he said it would make them all rich if she brought home a sack of gold.
So at last Lucilla agreed that she would go back with them to the king's court and dance there,
But she made them promise that before the spring came they would send her back to her own little cottage.
On hearing this,
The strangers were much delighted,
And bid Lucilla make ready to start at once,
And that night she said goodbye to her little ones,
And left them to go with the travelers.
Her eyes were red with crying at leaving her home,
And before she started,
She went out alone on the cliffs,
And stretched out her arms,
And called to the wind fairies to go with her and help her,
For she feared what she was going to do,
And she begged them to be true to her as she had been true to them.
They sailed for many days,
Till at last they came to a country of which Lucilla had never even heard,
And to a big town,
Which seemed to her as if it must hold all the people in the world,
So crowded was it,
And above the town on the hill,
They pointed out to her a royal palace,
And told her it was where the king lived,
And it was there that she would have to dance.
And it is most lucky we saw you just now,
Said they,
For the king is just going to be married,
And in a few days the princess will arrive,
And there will be festivities and rejoicing for days,
And at some of these you will appear before their majesties,
And be sure you dance your very best.
Then Lucilla went with them into a great hall close to the palace,
Where musicians were playing on every kind of instrument,
And here the courtiers bid her dance on a platform at one end of the hall in time to the music,
And when they had seen it,
The musicians one and all lay down their instruments,
And rose together,
Clapping and applauding,
And all declared that it was the greatest of luck that the travelers had met with Lucilla,
And it would delight the king more than anything they had prepared for him.
By and by,
The princess who was to marry the king arrived,
And the wedding was celebrated with much magnificence,
And after the wedding there was a feast,
And in the evening there was to be singing and dancing,
And all sorts of play for the royal couple and the court to see,
And then Lucilla was to dance.
The courtier who brought her wished her to be dressed in the most gorgeous dress,
With gold and jewels,
But she pleaded that she might wear a light grey gown like the wind fairies,
Because she remembered how they looked when they danced on the downs.
When the evening came when she was to dance before the king,
She threw wide her window and held out her arms and cried out,
Now help me,
Dear wind fairies,
As you have done before,
Keep faith with me,
As I have kept faith with you,
But in truth she could scarce keep from crying with thoughts of her husband at sea,
And her little ones at the cottage at home.
The hall was brightly lighted,
And in the middle on the throne sat the king and the young queen.
The musicians began to play,
And then Lucilla stepped forth on the platform and began to dance.
She felt as light as the sea foam,
And when she swayed and curved to the sound of the music,
It seemed to her as if she heard only the swish of the waves as they beat upon the shore,
And the murmur of the wind as it played with the water,
And she thought of her husband at sea,
With the wind blowing his ship along,
And of her little babies living in the cottage on the beach.
When she stopped,
There was such a noise of applauding and cheering in the hall,
As had never been heard there before,
And the king sent for her,
And asked her where she came from,
And who had taught her such wonderful steps,
But she only answered that she was the daughter of a poor miller,
Who lived in a windmill,
And she thought she must have learned to dance from watching the windmill sails go round.
Every night the king would have her dance again and again,
As he never tired of watching her,
And every night Lucilla said to herself,
Now another night is gone,
And I am one day nearer to their taking me back to my home and my children,
With a bag of gold to give to my husband when he comes back from sea.
The new queen was a handsome woman,
But she was very jealous,
And it made her angry that the king should admire the new dancers dancing so much,
And she thought she would like to be able to dance like her.
So one evening,
When no one was watching her,
She put on a big cloak that covered her all over,
And asked her way to where the dancer lived.
Lucilla sat alone in the little house that they had given her to live in,
And the queen came in behind her and took off her cloak and bade her be silent and not say her name,
For fear someone should be listening and know that she was there.
Now,
She said,
I have come to you that you may tell me,
Though no one else knows it,
Who taught you to dance,
That I may go and learn from them also to dance like you,
For in the home that I come from,
I was said to be the most graceful woman in the land,
And the best dancer,
So there is no dancing that I cannot learn.
Lucilla trembled,
But she answered,
Your Majesty,
I lived in a little windmill by the sea when I was a child,
Far from teachers or dancers,
But I watched the windmill sails go round more noon and night,
And perhaps it is that that taught me to dance as I do now,
And if Your Majesty wishes to learn to do what I do,
I will gladly teach you all I know,
And doubtless you will soon learn to dance far better than I.
Upon this,
The Queen was delighted,
And flung aside her cloak,
And stood opposite to Lucilla,
And begged her to begin to teach her at once,
That she might learn as soon as possible.
All that evening they danced,
But when the Queen thought she looked just as Lucilla did,
She appeared to be quite awkward and heavy beside her,
And was dancing just as other mortals might.
When she went away,
She was very pleased,
And said that she would come twice more to learn from her,
And then she was sure that she would be perfect.
In her heart,
Lucilla was very much frightened,
Because she knew that the Queen did not dance as she did,
And never could.
However,
The next night she came again,
And the next again,
And then there was to be a grand court ball,
And at this the Queen thought she would first show her husband how she could dance.
The King himself was fond of dancing,
And danced well,
Although not half so well as Lucilla's husband the sailor,
And the Queen thought how delighted he would be when he saw what a graceful wife he had got.
As the ball began,
All the fine people were saying to each other it really seemed silly to dance after they had seen the wonderful new dancer,
But the Queen smiled and thought to herself,
Now they will see that I can do quite as well as she.
When her turn came,
She tripped lightly forward and danced as best as she could,
And thought it was just like Lucilla,
And the courtiers said among each other our new Queen dances well,
But no one thought of saying that it was like Lucilla's dancing,
And the King said nothing at all on the matter.
Therefore,
The Queen felt herself growing hot and angry,
And she turned red and white by turns.
That lying wench has been tricking me,
She said to herself,
And she has not taught me right at all,
But I will punish her for her deception,
And soon she shall know what it is to deceive a Queen.
So the next day she went to her husband and said,
Husband,
I have thought much of the new wonderful dancer whom we all admire so much,
And truly I have never seen anyone on earth who could dance as she can.
I think we should do well before she goes back to her own home,
To know who has taught her her marvelous art,
So that we may have our court dancers taught,
That they may be there to please us when she is gone,
For really there is nothing on earth that cannot be learned if it is taught in the right way.
The King agreed,
And they sent for Lucilla,
And the King asked her to tell him where she had learned her dancing,
That they might summon the same teachers to teach their court dancers.
But Lucilla answered as before,
She did not know,
She thought she must have learned dancing from watching the windmill sails going round.
At this,
The King became angry and said,
That is nonsense,
No one could learn dancing from looking at windmill sails,
Neither was it possible that she,
A poor miller's daughter,
Could have learned such dancing by nature.
Then he threatened her,
That if she would not tell him the truth,
He would be obliged to punish her.
And he said she should have a day to think of it in,
But at the end of the next day,
He should expect her to tell him everything he wanted to know quite plainly.
When she was gone away,
The King said to the Queen,
Wife,
If this dancer persists in her silence,
And will not tell us how she has learned,
There is another thing which we must do.
We must keep her here to dance for us as much as we choose,
And not let her return at all to the home from which she came.
The Queen was silent for a little,
But she felt very jealous at the thought of the dancer remaining at the court.
So she nodded her head and said,
Yes,
But I think she ought to tell us more about it,
For myself,
I begin to think that it is witchcraft,
And perhaps she has been taught by the evil one,
And then we shouldn't like her to remain here and dance to us,
However beautiful it be,
For who knows what ill luck it might not bring upon us.
Upon this,
The King looked grave,
And said,
He did not believe much in ill luck or good luck,
But he should be loath to lose the dancer,
So they had better settle to keep her,
If she declined to tell them how the other dancers were to be taught.
Meantime,
Lucilla went back to her little house and wept bitterly,
With that I had never left my babes in my home,
She cried,
For I cannot break my word to the wind fairies,
And if I did,
They might do some terrible harm to my little ones or to my husband at sea,
Yet if I refuse to tell them,
They will most likely put me into prison,
And there I shall remain for my life,
And my husband and children will never know what has become of me,
And she knelt down before the windows and lifted her arms and cried out,
O dear wind fairies,
I have not broken faith with you,
So don't break faith with me,
And come to my help and save me in my trouble.
Next evening,
Lucilla went again before the King,
And he said to her,
Well,
Now will you tell us what we asked you last night,
So that we may send for your teachers and have others taught to dance as you do?
My gracious liege,
Answered Lucilla,
I can tell you nothing that I have not told you before.
Since I was a child,
I have danced as I dance now,
And I watched the sails of my father's windmill,
And I danced in time to the waves,
And perhaps that is what taught me to keep time in step so well.
I was dancing by the seashore when the travellers who brought me here found me,
And they promised me a bag of gold to take home to my husband,
If I would come and dance at your majesty's court,
And now you've seen me dance,
And I have done all I can do,
So I entreat you to give me the bag of gold and let me go home again.
The King was silent,
But the Queen was still more angry,
And in her heart was determined that Lucilla should never return to her home until she had found out about her dancing.
So when they were alone she said to her husband,
It is now quite clear,
It is by witchcraft that this woman has learned,
And we should do very wrong if we let her go till she has confessed all.
So again they sent for Lucilla,
And ordered her to confess,
And again she wept and declared that she could tell no more.
Then the King said,
Well,
Let us give the woman her bag of gold and let her go,
But the Queen stopped him and said,
No indeed,
Let us first try shutting her up in prison for a bit,
And see if that won't open her lips.
At first the King refused,
For he said that Lucilla had done no wrong,
But the Queen insisted that she was deceiving them,
And that her dancing must be witchcraft,
And at last the King began to listen to her.
Also he was very angry with Lucilla for wanting to go home,
And much disappointed to think he should see her dancing no more,
So he consented,
And said that either she must tell him how it was she came to be able to dance better than anybody else in the world and who taught her,
Or else they should think her dancing witchcraft,
And she must go to prison and wait her punishment.
Poor Lucilla wept most bitterly.
Alas,
Cried she to herself,
Woe is me,
For I dare not break faith with the wind fairies,
And yet if I do not,
I shall never see my husband or my babies again,
For I fear less they may put me to death here.
However,
She continued to be silent,
And the King ordered her to be put into prison until she should speak out and tell them the truth,
And the guards came and led her away to prison,
And locked her in a dark cell.
It was dreary and cold,
And the walls were so thick that she could not hear any of the noises from without,
And there was only one little window,
Which was too high up for her to see through.
Here she lay and lamented,
And almost wished she could die at once,
For she believed that they would burn her or drown her,
And bitterly did she grieve that she had left her home and her children.
Every day the King sent down to ask if she had changed her mind,
But every day she answered that she had nothing to say.
One evening,
She sat in her dark cell alone,
Weeping as usual,
When the prison door opened,
And there entered a woman,
Wrapped in a cloak and with her face hidden by a mask.
When she took off the mask,
Lucilla saw it was the Queen,
And she sprang up hoping that she had come to tell her that she was to be released,
But the Queen said,
Now I have come to you alone,
That you may tell me the truth.
Who taught you to dance,
And where can I learn to do what you do?
If you will tell me,
I will ask the King to forgive you,
And you shall have your bag of gold and go when you like.
Then poor Lucilla began to cry afresh,
And said,
My gracious lady,
I can tell you one thing that I have not yet told to anyone,
That is,
That I did learn my dancing,
But who told me,
Or how it was,
Is a secret that I swore I would never tell anyone,
And now I implore your Royal Highness to let me go back to my fisherman husband and my babies.
It was an evil hour for me when I left my home.
Upon this,
The Queen became furious,
But she hid her anger,
And first she tried to coax Lucilla to confess all.
Then she threatened her with the King's wrath,
And then,
As Lucilla still wept and said that she could not break her promise,
She started up in a rage and said,
Indeed,
It is of little use,
However much you love your husband and your children,
For you will never see them again.
The King has settled that you shall be killed this very week,
So now you know what you have gained by your wicked obstinacy.
So the Queen returned to the King,
And told him that the dancer had confessed that she had learned her dancing,
But she would not say from whom,
Therefore it must be from the evil one,
And therefore there was nothing for it but that she should be killed.
So they settled that first they would try to drown Lucilla,
And if she were a witch she would not sink,
And the King gave orders that she should be taken out to sea next day and thrown overboard,
And also that she should have heavy weights tied to her feet,
And her arms should be bound to her sides.
Next morning the guards fetched her,
And they bound her arms to her sides,
And tied heavy weights to her feet,
And they took her down and placed her in a boat on the seashore,
And they rowed her out to sea,
And all along the beach stood crowds of people,
Shouting and jeering and calling out,
She is a witch!
She is a witch!
The King has done well to have her killed.
Alas,
Cried Lucilla,
What have I done to deserve this?
Surely I have done no wrong to be so cruelly treated.
Dear Windfairies,
Come to my help,
For in truth now is the time of my direst need,
And if you desert me I am lost,
But I pray you keep faith with me as I have kept faith with you.
Then,
When they had rowed the boat out a little way,
The guards seized her and threw her into the water,
And the salt waves splashed over her face and through her hair,
But in spite of the heavy weights on her feet,
She never sank,
But felt as light as when she danced with the waves on the seashore by her home,
And she knew that the Windfairies held her up,
And the waves rocked her gently,
And drew her in towards the land,
And laid her on the sand,
And all the crowd yelled with rage.
When they found that Lucilla could not be drowned,
Both the King and Queen were very angry,
And said that now it was quite clear that she was a witch,
And that she must be burnt,
So they must take her back to prison and arrange for her to be burnt in the marketplace.
So Lucilla was taken back to her little dark cell,
And she kneeled on the ground and looked up to the window and murmured,
Thank you,
Dear Windfairies,
You have kept faith with me as I have kept faith with you.
Then again the guards came and took her by the arms and led her to the marketplace,
And here she saw a great pile of wood made,
Whereon she was to be laid,
And already men were busy setting fire to it.
But as Lucilla and the guards came to the spot,
There arose a little breeze,
And it blew on the faces of the crowd who went to see her burnt.
The men who were trying to light the pile of wood said they could not make it catch for the wind,
When at last it did catch fire,
The flames would not rise in the air,
But were blown around the ground.
Still they brought Lucilla up to the pile and placed her upon it,
And then the flames divided on each side,
And were blown away from her all round,
So she sat in the midst quite unhurt.
At this the people all cried out,
Now we know that she really is a witch,
Since she will not drown,
And the fire will not burn her,
And they ran to tell the king and the queen that the dancing woman did not mind the fire,
But sat in the midst of it unhurt.
On hearing this,
The king and queen came down to the marketplace together,
And saw Lucilla sitting on the pile of wood,
And the flames blown away from her on all sides and causing a great hubbub,
So they told the guards to take her back to prison and keep her there,
Till they could arrange for her to be beheaded.
And again Lucilla bent her head and said,
Now I know,
Dear wind fairies,
That you will never desert me,
And I have nothing to fear,
For while I keep faith with you,
You will keep your faith with me.
But now it was getting late in the day,
And the king commanded that Lucilla should not be executed till next day,
And that the scaffold should be erected in the marketplace,
On which the block should be put,
So that all the crowd might see,
And both he and the queen would be there.
But in order to give her one last chance that everyone might see how fair they were,
The king offered that if she would confess,
Even when she was upon the scaffold,
Who had taught her to dance,
She should be allowed to return whence she came,
And take her bag of gold with her,
And therefore the bag of gold was placed on the scaffold,
So that all the people might see,
And the bag was so large that Lucilla could scarcely lift it.
That evening Lucilla felt no fear,
And she would have slept calmly in her cell,
But the wind was beginning to blow in all directions,
And all round she heard it roaring,
And the trees were bending and breaking in the gale.
When the morning came,
The king and queen said to each other,
This is the morning when they should execute the dancer,
But it will be hard to get her on the scaffold with a gale like this blowing.
However,
The guards came to Lucilla's cell,
And took her out as before,
And led her towards the marketplace,
Though they had much ado to get along,
For the wind blew so hard that they could scarce keep upright in it.
All along the coast the little boats were being blown in to shore,
And there were big ships which had been driven in to take refuge from the storm,
But Lucilla felt no fear,
Only she looked up to the wind,
And in her heart she said,
Now dear wind fairies,
Help me for the last time,
And keep faith with me as I have kept faith with you.
Near the shore came a big ship with shining white sails riding over the crested waves,
And although all the other boats seemed troubled by the wind,
This boat seemed no way hurt by it,
And the people who saw it palled out.
What a ship it was,
And how brave the captain must be,
Who knew so well how to manage wind and water.
But when they knew that the time had come for Lucilla to be beheaded,
The people did not trouble further about the boats,
And in spite of the gale,
They flopped to the marketplace and crowded round the scaffold on which was the block.
Then the guards and Lucilla mounted the scaffold,
And Lucilla began to fear that at last the wind fairies had forsaken her,
And she wept and held out her arms and cried out,
Oh dear wind fairies,
Indeed I have kept my faith with you,
Surely you will keep yours with me.
In spite of the terrible gale,
The king and queen came down to the marketplace,
Though they could scarce see or hear for the wind,
Though all the time the sun was shining and the sky was blue.
Then the guards bid Lucilla kneel down and place her head upon the block,
And the bag of gold was beside her,
And they said,
This is your last chance,
Speak now and confess the truth to the king,
And here is your gold,
And you shall go.
And Lucilla answered as before,
I have spoken the truth,
And there is no more that I can tell,
Since I have sworn never to say from whom I learned my dancing.
Then the executioner lifted the axe in the air,
But before it fell there came a sudden roar of wind,
And the axe was swept from his hand,
And the houses in the marketplaces tottered and fell,
And high up on the hill the palace was a mass of runes.
Only Lucilla knelt upon the scaffold unhurt,
For the king and the queen and all the people were blown right and left amidst the runes of the houses,
And no one thought of anything save how they could save themselves.
Then Lucilla lifted her head and looked out to sea,
And saw the big ship coming in,
And she heard the sailors cry,
Hay Day,
These poor folk are in a sad plight,
And we had better go and help them,
And they all trooped up into the marketplace,
And the wind troubled them no more than it had troubled their ship,
But when Lucilla looked at them the first whom she saw was her husband,
And she gave a great cry,
And held out her arms and called out,
Now dear wind fairies,
Do I indeed know that you have kept faith with me,
And saved me in my direst hour of need.
Then she told her husband all that had happened,
And showed him the bag of gold,
And prayed him take her back to her little cottage and her babies by the sea,
And she knew that it was the wind fairies that had brought her husband to her,
For he told her that whatever way they steered the ship it would only take one course,
And the wind had blown it without their guidance straight to the town where she was to be killed.
So Lucilla and her husband took the bag of gold,
And went back to the little cottage by the seashore and her father and her babies,
And the king and the queen and all the rest of the people were left to build up their town as best they could,
And Lucilla never saw nor heard of them any more,
But lived happily with her husband for the rest of her life.
Once upon a time,
By the banks of a noble river flowing to the sea through a mountain girdled plain,
Stood a city of the wisest people in the world.
Instead of spending the winter as others did,
Huddled over smoky fires,
Freezing ears and noses,
Bundling themselves up in a potter of clothes,
And being cross at breakfast,
These sensible folk simply retired to their dwellings,
Locked their doors,
Drew down their curtains,
Put on their nightcaps,
Got into bed,
And slept the winter away.
The north wind howled there about the shuttered houses,
And woke no citizen from his dreams.
In the empty marketplace and the silent streets,
Stainless and untrodden lay the snow.
But when the leaves were the size of a mouse's ear,
And the singing birds had returned from their winter pilgrimage,
The sleepy citizens would wake,
Rub their eyes,
Stretch their arms,
And come yawning to open their windows on the sunlight and the spring.
The king of this remarkable city,
I must tell you,
Had three children,
The two elder of whom were sons,
And the youngest a daughter.
Now,
As occasionally happens,
The two sons were models of royal deportment,
Whilst their sister,
The slender,
Dark-haired,
And dark-eyed Princess Theolet,
Was as willful and spirited as a mountain bird.
Now,
On a day when the year was growing old,
And only a few half-withered flowers were to be gathered in the fields,
It chanced that Theolet,
Who had been idling about with little to do,
Took it into her head to pay a visit to the royal library.
It was very quiet there.
The red autumn sun was shining through the great windows.
A million motes of dust danced in the broad and ruddy beam,
And Theolet,
Curled in a huge red-leather easy chair,
Had great difficulty in keeping awake.
Presently,
Her eyes lit upon a large green book entitled Wintertime,
And this Theolet took from its place and opened in her lap.
Somewhat to her disappointment,
The print within the old book was in a foreign language,
But the pictures,
They would have kept anyone from sleeping.
There were pictures of snowy mountaintops,
Of bright,
Frozen lakes with people skating on them,
Of attacks on snow forts,
Of snowstorms in pleasant country villages,
And of Belfries agleam with snow beneath the moon.
Now,
Although Theolet had never seen the winter,
Or any snow or ice,
And could hardly make anything out of some of the pictures,
She could see well enough that here was something strange and new and wonderful indeed,
And then and there she resolved to run away during the winter sleep,
See the winter world,
And return before the city woke to the coming of spring.
Shorter grew the golden days,
And longer the still cold nights,
And presently the great day of the winter sleep was at hand.
A trumpeter posted in the Tower of Dreams at sunrise called the city to its last morn of waking life,
And scarce had his last notes faded,
Ere a murmur of bustle and preparations began to rise from every household in the town.
At sunset,
In accordance with ancient custom,
The edict of sleep was read to the people from a balcony of the palace.
This vulnerable law,
I must tell you,
Summoned all good citizens to go to sleep,
And recited the dreadful penalties prepared for all who should dare to stay awake.
When the gathering had melted away,
And the streets were empty save for a hurrying citizen or two on some belated errand,
The gates were locked,
And the waters of the river turned into the moat about the town.
The enchanted chimes of sleep,
Which rang of themselves,
Were to sound at the midnight hour.
Little by little,
The royal palace became as silent as a stone.
A darkness of slumber and night filled the vast echoing halls,
And from afar through the gloom came the faint tramp of the hobnailed night watch on the last round of the year.
After attending the ceremonial winter goodnight of the royal family,
Theolette hurried away to her own chamber.
I mustn't fall asleep now,
Said she,
Clenching her fist,
Because if I do,
I'll sleep until the spring,
And with a heart that went thump thump thump in the darkness,
She waited the midnight hour.
Suddenly,
The first warning bell,
Night caps on,
Struck one great solemn rolling clang,
Which swept out over the city and ebbed away humming to the stars.
And now,
After a pause,
Sounded the second bell.
Lights out.
Theolette sat down in a great chair,
Arose,
Walked about,
Sat down again,
And arose once more.
Would the third bell never ring?
Presently,
Everybody to bed boomed the third bell.
Theolette put her fingers to her ears.
Solemn and sweet and strange and golden,
The enchanted chimes were sounding their fairy tune.
Now,
Once the song of the chimes had come to an end,
And the throbbing humming of the last grave chord had melted into the air,
Theolette went to her window,
Drew back the curtain,
And looked forth over the city,
Sleeping in the starlight.
How strange and still they were,
Those dark cities,
Winding like crooked brooks through banks of huddled roofs.
Suddenly,
The princess uttered a little cry of surprise.
Far away across the sleeping city,
In a little house by the wall,
A yellow light was gleaming.
And now the light moved,
Went from window to window,
Vanished,
Reappeared,
And vanished yet again.
Someone else was awake in the city.
Who could it be?
Puzzled but not the littlest bit afraid,
The princess went to her wardrobe and dressed herself as well as she could,
In a little red hunting dressing cap.
Then,
Throwing her warmest mantle over her shoulders,
And taking a lighted candle with her,
She made her way from her chamber,
Down the great stairway to the palace door.
Fantastic shadows leaped and swayed as the princess,
Holding aloft her taper,
Descended the long broad flight,
And somewhere,
A huge clock ticked on,
Solemn,
Dutiful,
And forgotten.
Opening the door gently,
Fiolette stepped forth into the dark street and hurried along it to the royal gate of the city wall.
All seemed well.
The gates were locked,
And the drawbridge of the moat was lifted high above the black and starry waters.
Standing motionless for a moment in one of the shadowy nooks of the giant portal,
Fiolette listened for a footfall or a sound,
But heard only the sigh of the night wind and the ripple of water in the moat.
Reassured by the silence,
The princess lowered the drawbridge,
Unlocked the great gate with her father's own key,
Opened one vast swinging door,
Locked it behind her,
And walked off bravely into the dark and lonely land.
On the following morning,
A little after the dawn,
The princess arrived at a country town just over the frontier of her father's realm,
And there she sought out the inn and made preparations for her runaway winter pilgrimage.
From the host,
A little white horse she purchased,
And from the host's fourth son,
Who happened to be a tailor,
A fine warm riding habit of country wool.
Thus clad,
Away into the winter world galloped the adventurous Fiolette,
Of what befell her you soon shall hear.
And what a wonderful pilgrimage it was,
Through the world of ice and snow.
I wish I had time to tell you of all she saw and of all she did,
Of how the first snowstorm so pleased her that she almost lost her way in the whirl of the flakes,
Of her first look at a bit of ice,
Of her visit to the winter festival of the Fairy of the Snows,
Of how she danced the minuet at the polar bear's fall,
And of how she rode Aldebaran,
The skating horse,
Up and down the ice lakes of the wild.
White as snow was this marvelous animal,
And of blue leather edged with white were his saddle and bridle,
Whilst the skates he wore were of the blackest and shiniest adamant.
You should have seen him skating over the lakes,
His head held high,
His long silky tail streaming in the wind,
And Fiolette thought as she rode of the old book in the royal library and of the city of the winter sleep far away with the storm crying unheeded through its dream.
And now the winter waned.
A venturesome bird or two returned to rock on budding twigs.
The earth began to turn from brown to green,
And Fiolette knew that she must hasten back at once.
Alas,
One pleasant morning,
As she was nearing the borders of her father's land,
A band of robbers suddenly sprang at her out of a wood,
Bound her securely,
And hurried her to their castle with the intention of demanding a ransom.
Once there,
They pushed the princess roughly into a little cobwebby turret chamber,
Slammed and locked the heavy oaken door behind her,
And left her to her thoughts.
From her window in the turret,
Fiolette could see the high road leading toward the castle through the wooded lowlands and the broad winding stream of a mighty river,
The very river indeed which flowed by the walls of the city of the winter sleep.
With every warm and sunny hour the spring was driving old winter from the land.
The scales of tree buds were unsealing,
Frogs were piping in tiny triumph from every Martian pool,
And there were pleasant earthy smells in the air.
The spring awakening is surely close at hand,
Thought Fiolette.
What shall I do?
Now,
One sunny morning,
As the disconsolate princess walked to and fro in her little room,
It came to pass that she heard from the road below a pleasant voice singing a strange old song of her own land.
It was a song about a soldier who had fought in the wars and returned in the spring to plow the dear earth he had loved and defended.
And,
Hearing the old song,
Fiolette uttered a joyful cry and ran to the window.
A youth in a student's dress of green stood in the high road directly under the window.
He had heard the cry and stood looking up at the sunny wall.
Stay,
Good sir,
Cried Fiolette,
And tell me who you are that sings a song of mine own land.
To this the pleasant youth replied that he was but a student who had stolen away from the city of the winter sleep and was even then hastening back lest his absence be discovered.
And Fiolette remembered the light she had seen in the old house by the city wall.
And now Fiolette told the student of her adventures and begged him to aid her.
You may be sure that the student who was a fine,
Brave fellow needed no second entreaty.
Being a clever youth as well as a brave one,
He skillfully managed to lure the robbers away from the castle that very eve and fling a coiled rope to the princess.
And hand over hand,
With feet pressed close against the cord,
Down came the adventurous Fiolette.
Now,
One of the robbers,
A small one,
Had ridden away with Fiolette's little white horse,
So the student hurried Fiolette to the river bank where a boat lay waiting.
Alas,
The vessel was scarce large enough for a single passenger.
See,
Princess,
The river is in flood,
Said the youth,
And you have but to step into this vessel and be carried swiftly to the city.
But what of you,
Brave friend,
Said Fiolette?
You will be late now,
And your flight from the city will be known.
Do not fear,
Princess,
Replied the student with a strange,
Half-merry smile.
There is still time,
And I can make haste as well as any man.
To tell you the truth,
I have never felt at home in the city anyway.
But enough of words.
Hasten,
Lady Fiolette,
For the robbers will soon return.
And now Fiolette found herself on the mighty river in the full hurly-burly of its spring-tide flood.
On and on she swept through the night,
League after league,
Now floating quietly over lowlands turned to lakes,
Now born headlong with the torrent down valleys and ravines.
Solitary and fugitive,
One great star shone close above the distant peaks.
Just as the dawn was streaking the east with rose and gray,
The princess gained her father's city.
The drawbridge was still lowered across the moat.
The city was still sealed in its winter dream.
After thrusting the little boat once more forth into the full current of the river,
Fiolette ran to the palace and went to her own room.
With a little sigh,
She folded away the worn,
Red hunting dressing cap she had been wearing.
The riding habit of country wool had been left behind somewhere at the return of spring,
And crept into her little silken bed.
So weary was she that scarce had her head touched the pillow ere she was sound asleep.
When she opened her eyes again,
A whole day and night had passed.
The city had risen from the winter sleep,
And her mother stood bending over her with an amused smile.
Loud and clear and joyous,
The silver bells of the spring awakening were ringing over the town.
Good gracious,
Fiolette,
Said her mother,
But what a sleeper you are.
I've been shaking you for the last ten minutes.
Get up now,
That's a dear,
And wear your rose frock to the grand spring breakfast.
A little later,
Fiolette,
Feeling just the tiniest bit bewildered,
Sat down to breakfast with her father the king,
Her mother the queen,
And the two princes her brothers.
And there,
Moved by an impulse of truth and courage,
For though willful,
Fiolette was as faithful to high honor as a vowed knight,
The princess told them all the tale of her runaway adventures.
To her surprise,
She could win none of them to believe her story.
You have been dreaming,
Fiolette,
Said her father,
Gravely shaking his head and reaching for a royal muffin.
But I called you myself,
Exclaimed her mother,
Pausing from her royal marmalade.
And as for Fiolette's two brothers,
They pretended that polite disbelief which young men find so delightfully irritating when teasing their sisters.
Weeks passed,
Spring followed winter into the cupboard of time,
And Fiolette could find no one to believe her story.
Weary of insisting,
And shaken by the unbelief of those about her,
The princess began to wonder in her own heart if it were not all a dream.
Nothing remained of it all,
And it was so like a dream.
Her head bowed low,
Her eyes full of doubt and memories,
The princess mused all day,
And finally grew so pale that her royal parents became quite alarmed,
And took counsel to send their daughter on a long visit to her aunt,
The Queen of the Golden Mountain.
On the morn of departure,
Fiolette walked to the Great Hall of State to say farewell.
A dream.
A dream.
Was it only a dream?
Thought Fiolette.
And she saw again the winter world and the polar bear's ball,
With the candles burning and chandeliers of icicles,
And the skating horse,
And the pleasant youth in green who had saved her from the robbers.
Could it have been only a dream?
With a sigh and a doubting shake of her head,
The princess took her place at the head of her ladies and approached her father and mother.
And now,
Of a sudden,
From the sunny street below the pillared window,
A voice was heard singing,
And the voice sang an old song of a soldier who had fought in the wars and returned in the spring to plow the dear earth he had loved and defended.
A hush fell over the astounded assembly.
Stop,
I pray you,
Cried Fiolette,
Turning pale as the new-fallen snow.
Oh,
Hasten,
Good soldiers,
And bring yon singer here before me.
And now a group of guards rushed through the swinging doors to do her bidding.
Presently they returned,
Bringing with them the student who had saved Fiolette from the robbers.
He was very pale.
There were irons on his wrists,
And two burly turnkeys,
Dressed in red and black,
Stood beside him.
And,
Beholding Fiolette,
The poor youth drew in his breath with a start and met her gaze with strange eyes.
Speak!
What does this mean?
Who is this fellow?
Cried the king,
Rising from his throne.
May it please your majesty,
Replied a turnkey,
Falling on one knee.
This youth is a student of the College of Dreams,
Who disobeyed the edict of sleep and ran away from the city.
He was captured as he tried to return after the spring awakening,
Brought before the court of dreams,
And sentenced to pay the penalty.
We were on our way with them to the dungeons under the river,
When the royal guards surrounded us and led us here.
What is your will,
Oh king?
My will is that the judgment be obeyed,
Replied the king.
Lead him forth to his doom.
Nay,
Hear me,
Father,
Cried Fiolette.
If he is guilty,
So am I.
I too disobeyed the edict.
I too ran away.
This is the brave youth who so gallantly preserved me from the robbers.
Oh,
Will you not believe me now?
It is not a dream.
It never was a dream.
At these words,
A stir of excitement swept through the vast hall.
Indeed,
It seemed as if all there were trying to talk,
To protest,
To support,
To dispute,
To explain.
The uproar was at its height when the boom of a cannon first quieted,
Then roused the hubbub to an even greater pitch.
A royal visitor,
Exclaimed the king.
What can this mean?
Let no one stir.
Presently,
There was a fanfare of many trumpets.
The great portals of the hall swung open,
And there entered a crowned king and his train.
Oh,
King of the city of the winter's sleep,
Cried the newcomer,
Hear me,
For I have come from afar and in great haste.
I am the king of the north,
And I seek my only son,
Prince Florimond,
Who was stolen from his cradle twenty years ago.
The fairy of the isles has revealed that I shall find him here.
He dwells in a house by the city wall,
And is a student of the College of Dreams.
I pray you search for him at once,
For my heart hungers to behold him.
Florimond,
Cried the Lord Chancellor of the College,
Stepping forward.
There is but one Florimond in the city,
And,
As I live,
This youth is he.
And presently,
All beheld that the great king and the runaway student were indeed father and son.
To pardon the runaway youth and loose him from his bonds was but a moment's task.
This done,
A royal herald proclaimed a three days holiday.
On the last evening of the festival,
Florimond and Theolette walked alone to a great balcony and looked forth over the city,
The river,
And the mountain-circled plain.
It was midsummer eve,
The warm night was sweet with the fragrance of many flowers,
And the music of lutes and viols sounded faintly through the pleasant air.
Was it a wonder that I ran away,
Said the prince,
Laughing,
When I wasn't born a winter sleeper?
The winter,
Ah,
What fun it all was,
Answered Theolette.
I wonder if I shall ever see it again.
You shall see it every year,
If you will only consent to be Princess of the North,
Replied Florimond with a gallant smile.
And then and there,
The two runaways pledged their troth,
The wedding over,
Florimond returned to his own land,
Taking Theolette with him,
And,
Unless you have heard to the contrary,
They are living there happily still.
Little King Wistful slipped through the palace gates,
And went out into his kingdom to look for something new.
He was only eight years old,
So he was not a very big king,
But he had been king as long as he could remember,
And he had been looking for something new the whole time.
Now his kingdom was entirely made of islands,
And in the days when the old king and queen were alive,
These islands were known as the cheerful isles.
But King Wistful changed their name soon after he came to the throne,
And insisted on their being called the monotonous isles.
For strange as it may sound,
This little king of eight years old thought his kingdom was the dullest and the ugliest and the most wearisome place in the world,
And nothing that his nurses or his counselors could do ever succeeded in making him laugh and play like other little boys.
Only,
Look at the stupid things,
Muttered his majesty impatiently as he stood and surveyed his kingdom.
Five round islands in a row.
Always five round islands in a row.
If only some of them were square,
It would be something.
At the bottom of the hill was a wood,
One of those pale green baby woods where the trees are young and slender,
And nothing grows very plentifully except the bracken and the heather.
And as the king stood and felt sorry for himself at the top of the hill,
Out from the wood at the bottom of the hill came the sound of a little girl's voice singing a quaint little song.
And this was the song.
Sing,
Song,
Don't be long wistful,
Wistful,
Come and play Sing,
Song,
It's very wrong to stay and stay and stay away.
The world is much too nice a place to make you pull so long a face.
It's full of people being kind and full of flowers for you to find.
There's heaps of folks for you to tease and all the naughtiness you please.
To sulk is surely a waste of time when all those trees are yours to climb.
Tinga-ring,
Make haste,
King,
I've something really nice to say.
Tinga-ring,
A proper king,
Would not make me sing all day.
King Wistful thrilled all over with excitement.
Was something really going to happen at last?
He had hardly time to think,
However,
Before the little singer came out of the wood into the open.
She wore a clean white pinafore,
And on her head was a large white sun bonnet,
And under the sun bonnet were two of the brightest brown eyes the king had ever seen.
He stepped down the hill towards her,
Wondering how anything so pretty and so merry could have come into his kingdom.
And at the same instant,
The little girl saw the king,
And came running up the hill towards him.
So it was not long before they stood together,
Hand in hand,
Halfway down the hillside.
Where did you come from?
And who are you?
And how long have you been here?
Asked the king breathlessly.
I'm Eybright,
Of course,
Answered the little girl,
Smiling.
And I've been here always.
Who taught you to sing that song about me?
Demanded the king.
The magician,
Answered Eybright,
And he told me to sing it every day until you came.
But you have been a long time coming.
I'm very sorry,
Replied his majesty apologetically.
You see,
The magician did not tell me to come.
In fact,
I don't know who the magician is.
Are you not the king then?
Asked Eybright,
Opening her great brown eyes as wide as they would go.
The little king felt it was hardly necessary to answer this,
But he set his heels together and took off his crown,
And made her the best bow he had learned at his dancing class,
Just to show beyond any doubt that he was the king.
Eybright still looked a little doubtful.
Then how is it that you do not know the magician?
She asked him.
What is the use of being king,
If you do not know everybody who lives in your kingdom?
It isn't any use.
I never said I wanted to be king,
Did I?
Said his majesty a little crossly.
It was not pleasant to find that somebody else,
And only a little girl in a sun bonnet,
Knew more about his kingdom than he did.
What a funny boy you are,
Remarked Eybright,
Without noticing his crossness.
I always thought it must be so splendid to be a king,
And to have a banquet whenever you like,
And never to go out without a procession,
And to wear a crown instead of a sun bonnet,
And.
.
.
That's all you know about it,
Interrupted the king,
Somewhat impolitely.
There aren't any banquets,
And when there are,
You only have stupid things with long names to eat,
And you never know whether to eat them with a fork or a spoon,
And it's always wrong whichever you do.
And if you ask for jumbles,
Or chocolate creams,
Or plum cake,
You're told you mustn't spoil your dinner,
And all the procession you ever get is a procession of nurses who won't even let you step in a puddle if you want to.
Dear me,
Said Eybright,
You're no better off than a little boy in an ordinary nursery.
The little king drew himself up on tiptoe with great dignity.
Some of your remarks are most foolish,
He said.
You forget that I have a kingdom of my own,
As well as a nursery.
To be sure,
He added sadly,
It is not much to boast of,
For it is a very stupid kingdom,
And nothing nice ever happens in it.
What do you mean?
Exclaimed Eybright.
Your kingdom is the nicest kingdom in the whole world.
King Wistful had managed to keep his temper so far,
But this was more than he could bear.
Rubbish,
He cried,
Completely forgetting his royal manners.
You come up the hill with me,
And I'll show you what a stupid kingdom it is.
So they ran up to the top of the hill,
And looked down at the five round islands in a row.
There,
Said King Wistful,
Did you ever see anything so dull?
The little girl shook her head.
I think it is all as pretty as it can be,
She said.
Look how the sun glints on the cornfields,
And see the great red and blue patches of flowers.
But they're always the same flowers,
Complained his majesty,
Yawning.
They're supposed to be the same flowers,
But they never are,
Answered Eybright.
If you were to pick them.
.
.
Kings never pick flowers,
He replied haughtily.
Perhaps that is why you know so little about them,
Retorted Eybright,
And his majesty began to feel he was not getting the best of it.
Anyhow,
He continued hastily,
You must own that the sea never changes.
Oh,
Said Eybright,
That is because you have not learned the sea properly.
It has ever so many different faces,
And ever so many different voices too.
The king turned and stared at her.
Are you a witch,
He asked wonderingly.
No,
Laughed Eybright merrily.
If I were,
I would make you see things right instead of wrong.
Then she suddenly scampered down the hill again.
Come along,
Quick,
She cried.
We'll go and ask the magician to disenchant you.
King Wistful had to run his hardest to catch her,
For the little girl in the sun bonnet certainly knew how to put one foot in front of the other.
But then,
A sun bonnet is not so apt to tumble off a person's head as a crown,
And that makes all the difference in a running race.
Where does the magician live,
He panted when he came up with her.
In the middle island,
She answered.
We'll find the boat and follow the river down to the sea.
She plunged into the wood as she spoke,
And threaded her way through the slender young trees,
With his majesty close at her heels.
Sometimes the bracken was as tall as she was,
But the boy behind could always see the sun bonnet bopping up and down just ahead of him,
And he followed it until they came out at the other side of the wood and found themselves on the banks of a charming little river.
A small round boat like a tub,
Lined with pink rose leaves,
Was waiting for them,
And into this they both jumped.
Oh,
Oh,
Cried Eybright,
Jumping up and down with delight.
The fairies are out today.
Look at them,
The purple ones in the loosest rife,
And the pink and white ones in the comfrey,
And.
.
.
You'll upset the boat if you don't sit still,
Interrupted the king,
Who felt cross because he could not see the fairies.
Let me have the oars,
And I'll take you down the stream.
You need not do anything of the sort,
Said Eybright,
For this is the boat the magician gave me,
And it always takes you wherever you want to go.
So they just sat in the sunshine,
And floated lazily along,
And they dabbled their hands in the water,
And made their sleeves as wet as they pleased,
And they caught at the branches above as they passed under them,
And they leaned over the side,
And stretched after everything that grew out of reach,
And,
In short,
If they had not been in a fairy boat,
It is very certain that they would have tumbled into the water several times before they reached their journey's end.
Presently,
The river widened out into the big calm sea,
And after that,
The boat quickened its speed and took them across to the middle island in no time at all,
For the fairies know well enough that nobody wants to dawdle about in an open sea,
Where there are no tadpoles to catch and no trees that sweep their branches down to meet the water.
When the boat stopped,
They found themselves on the edge of a shore covered with sea lilac and yellow poppies and wonderful shells that sang without being put to anyone's ear,
And just a little way along the beach was the magician's cave.
There was no doubt about its being the right cave,
For over the door of it was written in square acid tablets,
This is the magician's cave.
Besides,
The whole cave was dug out of a solid almond rock,
And of course any other person's cave would have been made of plain rock without any almonds in it.
Come along,
Said Eyebright,
And the two children walked up the beach and knocked at the magician's door and went in.
Some people might think that a cave on the seashore would be full of giraffes and jellyfish and wet shrimps,
But this particular cave was just like the nicest room that ever belonged to a castle in the air.
The wonder of it was that whoever went into it found the very things he had never had and always wanted,
And none of the things that he had always had and never wanted.
So Eyebright immediately found a beautiful storybook with a colored picture on every page,
And all the sad stories squeezed between the happy stories,
So that no one who read it could ever cry for long at a time,
While the king found the inside of a clock waiting to be picked to pieces,
And an open pocket knife with a bit of firewood lying handy,
And a full-rigged schooner ready to be sailed.
And they both saw the dear old magician sitting in his armchair and smiling at them.
He was dressed in a long cloak that always began by being a green cloak,
But changed every other minute to a different color according to the mood the magician was in.
And as he was always in a nice mood,
Whether it was a sad or a merry one,
His cloak always managed to be a nice color.
On his head was a high-pointed hat with crackers sticking out of it,
And a pattern worked all over it in caramels and preserved cherries.
And he wore furry foxgloves on his hands to keep them warm,
Because he was not so young as he used to be.
He had been practicing as a magician for over a thousand years,
But he did not look very old for all that.
He was what might be called pleasantly old,
For he had soft white hair and a curly white beard and a pink complexion like a schoolboy's.
That is how a magician grows old when he has always been a jolly magician.
Eyebright ran straight up to him and climbed on his knee and hugged him.
I've brought the king to see you,
She announced,
And we want you to be a nice,
Kind,
Lovely magician and help him to be disenchanted.
The magician stood up and shook hands with the king just to make him feel at home,
And the boy did not feel shy another minute,
And quite forgot that he had never paid a visit before without a procession of nurses to look after him.
You are very good children to call on me at tea time,
Said the magician.
If there is one thing more than another that makes me feel the ache in my bones,
It is having tea by myself.
Now,
Would you like to have it on the floor,
Or shall I call up the table?
The king,
Who had had his meals on a table all his life,
Voted for the floor.
But when Eyebright said it would be more fun to see what would happen if they chose the table,
He had to own that perhaps she was right.
What happened was very simple.
The magician just stamped on the floor,
And a neat little table,
Covered with a nice white cloth,
Walked in at the door like any person,
And took up its position in the middle of the floor.
Well,
Exclaimed Eyebright,
I never knew tables could walk before.
What do you suppose they have four legs for?
Asked the magician,
Smiling.
My nursery table does not walk,
Observed the little king.
Ah,
Said the magician wisely,
Some tables do not know how to put two and two together.
Now for some chairs.
He stamped on the floor again,
And two little armchairs bustled into the room as fast as their fat little legs would carry them.
You must excuse their being in such a hurry,
Said the magician.
They have been playing at musical chairs all their lives,
You see.
Now,
While you are laying the table,
I will boil the kettle.
Crockery in the left-hand cupboard,
And eatables in the right-hand cupboard.
So the magician set to work,
And lighted the fire with peppermint sticks,
And the two children opened the doors of his wonderful cupboards.
The crockery in the left-hand cupboard was the right sort of crockery,
For none of it matched.
So it did not take a minute to find a small pink cup,
And a green saucer for Eyebright,
And a big blue cup,
And a red saucer for the magician,
And a nice purple mug without any saucer at all for King Wistful.
As for the right-handed cupboard,
The little king was overjoyed when he found it stocked with jumbles,
And chocolate creams,
And plum cake.
I am glad,
He said with a sigh of relief,
That you don't keep seed cake in your cupboard.
Seed cake always reminds me of eleven o'clock in the morning.
Ah,
Said the magician,
The wimps saw to that when they filled my cupboard for me centuries ago.
There's never any bread and butter in it either,
Until you've had as much plum cake as you can eat.
That was a delightful tea party.
The magician did not mind in the least when they made polite remarks about the food,
And told him his jumbles might have been kept a little longer with advantage,
Or that his chocolate creams were not so soft as some they had known.
But they hastened to add that his tea was the nicest tea they had ever tasted,
Because it had only a grown-up amount of milk in it,
So he would have been rather a cross magician if he had minded.
Nor did he raise any objection when they walked about in the middle of tea and took a look at the picture book,
Or whittled away the piece of firewood,
Or danced round the cave and shouted because everything was so nice.
And after tea,
There were all the magician's treasures to be turned out of old nooks and corners and left about on the floor,
And all his new quill pens to be tried,
And his clean sheets of notepaper to be scribbled over.
And when they were tired of exploring the cave and had eaten as much plum cake as they wanted,
The magician saw it was the right moment to begin telling them really true stories.
And as he was a magician,
Of course his true stories were all fairy stories,
Which,
As everyone knows,
Are the only true stories in the world worth believing.
But even the stories came to an end at last,
And then both the children remembered at once why they had come to see the magician.
Well,
What can I do for you,
He asked,
Before they had time to say anything,
For,
Truly,
He would not have been a magician at all if he had not known what they were thinking about.
He smiled so encouragingly that the little king answered him at once.
It's like this,
He began.
There's something wrong with the way I see things.
Of course there is,
Said the magician.
The wimps threw dust in your eyes when you were a baby,
And you cannot expect to see things in the same light as other people when the wimps have once thrown dust in your eyes.
Why did they throw dust in my eyes?
Asked little king wistful.
The usual reason,
Answered the magician briefly.
They were not asked to your christening,
That's all.
If people will persist in leaving the wimps out when they give a party,
They must take the consequences.
However,
As you were not to blame in the matter,
The wimps would be the first to own that you ought not to be bewimped any longer.
The best thing you can do is go up to Wimpland yourself and ask them to take away the spell.
The little king looked at Eibright and hesitated.
It is a long way to go all alone,
He remarked.
And Eibright immediately stepped up to him and took his hand.
I'll come with you,
She said.
I've always longed to go to the other side of the sun.
How are we to get there,
Magician?
Well,
Answered the magician,
The usual way is to climb up a sunbeam,
But that's not very quick and sunbeams are apt to be slippery in the dry weather.
Shall I send you up in a flash of lightning or on the spur of a lark?
Spur of a lark,
Echoed the king.
You mean on the spur of the moment,
Don't you?
Not a bit of it,
Answered the magician.
You'd never get up to Wimpland on the spur of anything but a lark,
I can tell you.
You have to get up there very early in any case if you want to be even with the wimps.
So the best way is to rise with the lark.
However,
As it is getting rather late in the day for larks,
I had better send you up in a lightning flash.
Will you manage it alone,
Or shall I send a conductor with it?
Would the conductor show us the way,
Asked Eybright?
Dear me,
No,
Said the magician.
Lightning conductors never show anything but the stupidity of some people.
Perhaps you'd better have the lightning without a conductor.
So stand on one side while I pick you out a nice quiet flash without any thunder hanging to it.
He took down a large sack labeled Storms from the shelf,
Untied the top and plunged his head into it.
Eybright stole a little closer to the king than before and hoped that nothing would go off with a bang.
I say,
Said His Majesty putting his arm around her,
It strikes me that is impossible,
Interrupted the magician in a stuffy voice from the middle of the sack.
For I've got it in both hands and it isn't going to strike anybody so long as you treat it kindly.
Now,
Off you go in a flash.
And off they did go in something,
Though they never knew what it was,
For they had no time to see anything before they found themselves dropped with a thud on the other side of the sun.
For a moment or two they just lay where they had fallen without moving.
Then they sat up and rubbed their eyes and looked around.
Oh,
Exclaimed Eybright,
Clasping her hands tight,
I had no idea it was like this.
Of course Eybright knew no more about Wimpland than she had learned in her geography lessons,
And we all know how little geography books ever tell us about the really nice places in the world.
So,
Although she knew as well as any other little girl that Wimpland has no physical features and its inhabitants have no occupation,
That its climate is dull and foggy and its government is a sleeping monarchy,
She was not in the least prepared for what she did see.
Well,
Said a voice somewhere near,
What do you think of it?
Just in front of them a wimp was standing on his head,
Which is a wimp's favorite way of resting his legs.
He seemed to expect an answer,
So the king did his best to think of one that should be both polite and truthful.
As a matter of fact,
He did not think much of Wimpland at all.
It is rather full of fog,
Isn't it?
He began,
A little nervously.
The wimp looked distinctly hurt,
But before he had time to get angry,
Eybright put things right in her quiet little way.
I don't think it is yellow fog,
She said.
It's more like dull sunshine.
The wimp fairly wimpled when he heard this.
You've hit it,
He cried in a delighted tone.
That's what it is,
Really.
It's the folks from the front of the sun who call it yellow fog.
They're blinded by their own sunshine,
They are.
This is the back of the sun,
You see,
And the sunshine naturally loses a bit of its polish by the time it has worked through.
I think I like bright sunshine best,
Observed the king.
That is absurd,
Said the wimp.
Why,
You can't look at it without blinking to begin with.
In Wimpland,
You get all the advantages of the sun and none of the drawbacks.
No sun blinds or sun strokes or sun spots.
You must be a stupid boy if you can't see that.
It is your fault,
Not mine,
Answered the king boldly.
You shouldn't have thrown dust in my eyes if you wanted me to see Wimpland in the right light.
The wimp turned several somersaults to show his amazement at the king's words,
And finally stood thoughtfully on one leg.
That's serious,
He said.
We didn't know you'd ever come up here,
Or we shouldn't have done it.
However,
It can't be helped now,
So you'd better go back again.
It doesn't matter if you do see things wrong at the front of the sun.
But it does matter,
They both exclaimed,
And that's why we want you to take away the spell.
Please!
The wimp stood on his head again and shook it from side to side,
Which no one but a wimp could have done,
Considering the awkwardness of the position.
There's only one thing to be done,
He said at last.
You must exchange eyes.
They stared at the wimp and then at each other.
The little king began to think busily,
But I bright spoke without thinking at all.
Very well,
She said.
How is it to be done?
Quite easy,
Answered the wimp cheerfully.
All you've got to do is to wish with all your might to have the king's eyes instead of your own,
And there you are.
At that moment,
The king finished his thinking.
Stop,
He shouted.
If I take her eyes away,
She will always see things wrong.
But the king had spoken too late.
I bright had already wished with all her might,
And her eyes had turned as blue as deep water,
While his majesties were round and large and brown.
What fun,
She cried,
Laughing happily.
Isn't it a nice change to have somebody else's eyes?
The little king,
However,
Was far too furious to listen to her.
Stand up and let me knock you down,
He cried,
Shaking his fist at the wimp.
Look what you've done.
She will see things wrong to the end of her days.
Don't be a foolish little boy,
Said the wimp calmly.
Take her home and try to see things right yourself.
The king certainly did not take her home,
Nor himself either,
But it is the truth that they both found themselves the very next minute,
Standing on the top of the small green hillock and looking down at the kingdom of the monotonous isles.
Hurrah,
Shouted King Wistful,
Waving his crown joyfully.
What a beautiful kingdom I've got.
Look how the sun glints on the cornfields,
And see the great red and blue patches of flowers.
Don't you think it is a beautiful kingdom?
He added,
Turning to the little girl in the sun bonnet.
Eyebright was distinctly puzzled.
She thought she only saw five round islands in a row,
But,
Of course,
It was impossible that the king should be mistaken.
So she looked once more over the kingdom of the monotonous isles,
And then back at the anxious face of the little king.
Yes,
She said softly,
It is as you say,
A beautiful kingdom.
Then she ran down the hill and disappeared among the slender trees of the baby wood,
And little King Wistful went home to bed.
There is a queen now,
As well as a king of the monotonous isles.
She has black hair and blue eyes,
And she wears a crown instead of a sun bonnet,
And she quite agrees with the king whenever he tells her how beautiful their kingdom is,
And if this should seem remarkable to some people,
It need only to be remembered that the queen sees everything with the king's eyes.
There was once a king who was so fond of hunting that all the rabbits in his kingdom were born with their hearts in their mouths.
The king would have been extremely surprised to hear this,
For,
Of course,
He never hunted anything so small as a rabbit.
But rabbits are foolish enough for anything,
As the world knows,
And it is certain that the rabbits of the king's forest would never have had a happy moment to this day if the green enchantress had not suddenly taken it into her head to try and bewitch the king.
Now,
The green enchantress was very beautiful indeed.
She sat all day long at the foot of an old lime tree in the royal forest,
And she was dressed all in green,
And she had small white hands and great black eyes,
And quantities and quantities of dark red hair.
Every animal in the forest,
From the largest wild boar down to the smallest baby rabbit,
Was a friend of hers,
And it made her dreadfully unhappy when she saw them being killed just to amuse the king.
So it was no wonder that she made up her mind at last to try and bewitch him,
And the first time she tried was on a fine summer evening when the royal party was riding home from the hunt.
It had been an exceedingly dull hunt that day,
For the king had found nothing whatever to kill,
And this made him so exceedingly irritable that his followers took care to keep a good way behind him as they rode along.
That was how it happened that the king was riding quite alone when a voice suddenly called out to him from the side of the road.
Good evening,
King,
Said the voice.
Have you had a good sport today?
The king pulled up his horse and looked around,
And when he saw a wonderful-looking girl all dressed in green sitting at the foot of an old lime tree,
He did not know quite what to say.
He knew very little about girls,
For he had spent all his life in killing things,
But he had a sort of idea that the girl in green was not much like the princesses who came to court.
I have had no sport at all,
He said at last.
All the animals were hiding today.
No doubt they were,
Said the green enchantress.
So would you be if people came hunting you with great horrid spears and things?
She was really laughing at him,
But the king had no idea of it.
He only looked at her more solemnly than before.
What do you know about it,
He asked her.
Perhaps I know more about this forest than you know about the whole of your kingdom,
Answered the green enchantress.
And this time she laughed outright,
But the king did not mind in the least.
Perhaps you do,
He said simply.
I never pretended to know much.
I do not even know why you are laughing.
Will you tell me?
I am laughing because you know so little,
She answered mysteriously,
And because there is so much I could tell you if it pleased me.
I have no doubt you could,
Replied the king.
Will it please you to tell me now?
I don't feel inclined to tell you now,
Said the green enchantress.
How strange,
Exclaimed the king.
If I had anything to tell,
I should tell it at once.
But then I am not a girl.
When will you tell me?
Next time you come,
Laughed the girl in green.
Next time?
Said the king.
Why should I come twice when once would do?
She did not trouble to answer that at all,
And when the king looked again at the old lime tree,
The girl in green had completely disappeared.
Is there a witch in the forest?
He asked when his followers came riding up to him.
There is the green enchantress,
Your majesty,
Answered the chief huntsman.
I have never seen her,
But they say she is the most beautiful woman in the whole world.
Indeed,
Said the king,
In surprise,
And he went home and spent the whole of the evening in trying to remember what the girl in green had looked like.
He had quite forgotten,
However,
So the very next morning he stole out of the palace long before anyone was awake,
And walked as fast as he could in the direction of the old lime tree.
The wild boars and the other animals were most surprised to see him there so early in the day,
And they followed him in twos and threes to see what he was going to do.
As for the king,
He strode on over the dewy grass and never noticed them at all,
And all the while the bracken on either side of him was alive with trembling little rabbits,
All squeaking to one another with their hearts in their mouths.
We shall certainly be killed if the king sees us.
At last he came to the old lime tree at the side of the road,
And there sat the wonderful girl all dressed in green with her dark red hair falling round her down to the ground.
The king would have taken off his crown to her if he had not come out without it,
But he made her a low bow instead,
And the green enchantress began to laugh.
Dear me,
She said,
Why have you come back again?
They told me you were the most beautiful woman in the world,
So I came to see if it was true,
Said the king.
And now you are here.
Do you think it is true?
Asked the girl in green.
I suppose so,
Said the king doubtfully,
But I don't know much about girls.
If you are a wild boar now or.
.
.
But I'm not a wild boar,
Cried the green enchantress,
And she was so angry at being compared to a wild boar that she promptly threw a spell over the king and tried to turn him into a wild boar.
But the king went on being a king just the same as before,
And he had no idea that he was expected to be a wild boar at that very moment.
When are you going to tell me all the things you know?
He asked her,
Smiling.
I have forgotten what there was to tell,
Said the green enchantress sulkily,
And she got up and walked away among the trees.
The king wondered what he had done to offend her,
And he had tried hard to remember whether he had ever offended any of the princesses who came to court.
But as none of the princesses who came to court ever thought of showing their feelings,
He would not have known if he had.
Meanwhile,
The green enchantress was feeling very cross indeed.
What is the use of being an enchantress if people refuse to be enchanted,
She grumbled,
And she ran off as fast as she could to find her godfather,
The magician Smilax,
For nothing ever put her in such a good temper as a visit to her godfather.
Now,
Smilax was the most amiable magician the world has ever contained,
And he lived in an ordinary little cottage with a green door and a white doorstep and a red chimney pot,
And he did not look like a magician at all.
All the same,
Smilax was by no means a stupid magician,
As the rest of the story will show.
What is the matter,
He asked when his godchild ran in at the door?
Do you want me to teach you a new spell?
No,
Indeed,
Cried the green enchantress.
I am tired of spells.
I want something much better.
Well,
Well,
Said the kind old magician.
Let us hear what it is all about,
And then we'll see what we can do.
It was impossible to go on being cross when anyone was as good-tempered as Smilax.
So his godchild climbed at once onto the arm of his chair and sat there with her little white feet dangling while she told him all about the king who would not turn into a wild boar.
Is it not hard,
Pouted the green enchantress,
That I cannot bewitch the king?
Some kings are easier to bewitch than others,
Remarked the magician wisely.
Now,
What is it you want me to do for you?
I want you to make me into a princess,
Said the godchild promptly.
Then I can go to court and dance with the king.
Only think of it.
And she pretended that the poker was the king and danced round the room with it to show how she would behave when she got to court.
That's easily done,
Said Smilax.
You shall go to court and dance with the king if you like,
And I will make you so fine a princess that the king will not be able to distinguish you from all the other princesses in the palace.
But I don't want to be like all the other princesses,
Godfather.
I want to be a real princess,
Objected the green enchantress.
Smilax shook his head.
Then I cannot help you,
He said.
Nobody can make a real princess,
Not even the fairy queen herself.
Real princesses make themselves,
And that is a very different matter.
Shall I never go to court then,
Asked the godchild with tears in her eyes?
Of course you shall,
Said Smilax.
Can you not go to court without being a princess?
There is a back door to the palace as well as a front one,
And any ordinary person can get in at the back door.
But you must give up all your witchcraft the moment you set foot in the palace,
For it is impossible to be an ordinary person and a bewitching one at the same moment.
I don't mind that,
Said the godchild.
If I cannot bewitch the king,
I do not want to be an enchantress anymore.
I will go to the palace this very minute.
And so she did,
And that was how it came about that there was a new scullery made at the palace,
And one fine morning,
The king met her all among the vegetables as he took his stroll in the garden after breakfast.
It is extremely probable that the king would not have noticed her at all if she had not happened to be wearing a bright green handkerchief tied over her dark red hair.
He felt sure that he had seen the bright green and the dark red somewhere before,
So he stopped and looked at her.
What are you doing,
He asked her with a smile.
I am picking beans for the king's dinner,
Answered the little scullery maid.
How extremely kind of you,
Exclaimed the king,
Who had always supposed that the beans for his dinner picked themselves.
Will you let me look at them?
She held out her basket,
And the king peeped inside and found it full of bright scarlet flowers.
Are those beans?
Asked the king in wonderment,
And he thought he had never seen anything so charming before.
I hope so,
Said the little scullery maid with an anxious sigh,
For she knew no more about it than the king and was dreadfully afraid of being scolded for picking the wrong thing.
Indeed,
She had hardly finished speaking when the angry voice of the chief cook called her from the back door,
And away she scampered down the garden path.
Everyone noticed how absent-minded the king was at dinner that day.
He talked even less than usual,
And when the fifteenth course came round,
He turned reproachfully to the prime minister.
I thought I was going to have beans for dinner,
Observed the king in a disappointed tone.
Your majesty has just helped himself to beans,
Said the prime minister,
When he had recovered from his surprise at the king's remark.
What?
Exclaimed the king,
Looking at his plate.
Are these the beautiful scarlet beans that grow in my kitchen garden?
Impossible!
They turn green when they are cooked,
Your majesty,
Said the prime minister,
Who had never seen a bean growing in his life,
But could not possibly have owned such a thing before the court.
Then let me have my beans before they are cooked in future,
Said the king,
And the prime minister hastily made a note of it on his clean cuff.
There was a magnificent ball at the palace that evening,
And the king had ninety-nine delightful princesses to dance with,
But none of them had dark red hair,
And when he had finished dancing with the ninety-ninth,
He once more turned reproachfully to the prime minister.
Where is the hundredth princess,
He demanded impatiently.
The prime minister knew no more about the hundredth princess than he had known about the beans,
And he wished he had gone to bed instead of coming to the court ball to be worried by the king's questions.
He was too sleepy,
However,
To invent any more answers,
So he had to tell the truth,
And no doubt he would have made a much better prime minister if he had always been too sleepy to invent things that were not true,
But that of course has nothing to do with the story.
I have never heard of the hundredth princess,
Your majesty,
He said wearily.
Would it please your majesty to tell me what she is like?
He fully expected the king to be exceedingly angry,
And he wondered whether he should be beheaded at once or only imprisoned in one of the king's dungeons.
It was therefore a great surprise to him when the king burst out laughing and was not in the least offended.
I never heard of her myself until this morning,
Said the king.
She has wonderful dark red hair,
And she is so sweet and so kind that she actually picks the vegetables for my dinner.
The prime minister was so relieved at not being put into a dungeon that he positively yawned in the king's presence,
And the king,
For the first time in his life,
Noticed that he looked tired and sent him home to bed,
Which was certainly a much nicer place to send him to than a dungeon.
And as for the prime minister,
He went on speaking the truth to the end of his days.
The next morning,
The king hastened into his garden the moment he had swallowed his breakfast.
The chief huntsman met him just as he was leaving the palace,
And asked him what time it would please him to start for the hunt.
Hunt?
Cried the king impatiently.
What hunt?
I am going to pick vegetables for my dinner,
And that is ever so much more important.
And he ran down the steps and across the lawn as never a king ran before.
The little scullery maid was wandering among the gooseberry bushes with a very disconsolate look on her face.
I am looking for sage to stuff the king's ducks with,
She said when the king came hurrying towards her,
But I don't know a bit what it is like,
And how can I be expected to pick things when I don't know what to pick?
Do not look so distressed,
Said the king,
For her eyes were full of tears.
I am the king,
And I do not mind whether my ducks are stuffed or not.
Ah,
But the chief cook does,
Said the little scullery maid,
Who of course,
Had known all the while that he was the king.
The chief cook will beat me if I do not fill my basket with sage.
Look,
This is where he beat me yesterday for bringing the wrong beans.
She rolled up her sleeve and showed him a tiny black speck on her dainty white arm.
To be sure,
It was not much of a bruise,
But when one has been an enchantress all one's life,
It is a little hard to be beaten for not knowing enough.
The king was quite overcome with distress,
And he stooped and kissed the little black mark tenderly,
And that,
As everyone knows,
Is the only way to cure a bruise.
Come with me,
He said,
And I will help you to find some sage.
Then the king's ducks will be stuffed,
And the chief cook will not be able to beat you.
So the king and the scullery maid wandered all over the kitchen garden and hunted for sage,
And the king knew just as much about it as the scullery maid,
And the scullery maid knew as much as the king,
And that was just exactly nothing at all.
So there is no doubt that the king's ducks would never have got stuffed that day if the pair of them had not suddenly stumbled upon a bush of rosemary.
Does it not smell sweet?
Exclaimed the little scullery maid,
And she picked a whole handful of it and gave it to the king.
Surely,
Cried the king,
Anything so charming as this must be the very thing we are looking for.
The angry voice of the chief cook sounded once more from the back door,
So they did not stop to think any more about it,
But filled the basket with rosemary as fast as they could,
And then away scampered the little scullery maid down the path,
While the king stood and watched the little curls of dark red hair that fluttered in the breeze.
The chief cook was far too grand a person to stuff the king's ducks,
So he left it to the little scullery maid,
And the result was that the king's ducks were stuffed with rosemary.
There were only two people in the palace who enjoyed their dinner that day.
One was the king,
Who sat at the head of the royal table and had three helpings of roast duck,
And the other was the little scullery maid,
Who sat on the back doorstep and ate the scrapings of all the plates out of a big brown bowl.
As for the courtiers,
They never forgot that dinner as long as they lived,
But this was not surprising,
For ducks that are stuffed with rosemary are surely ducks to be remembered.
After that,
The courtiers had to eat a good many nasty things for dinner.
Every day the chief cook sent the little scullery maid into the garden to pick something for the king's dinner,
And every day the king came and helped her to find it.
And although they never found the right thing,
And although it was generally very nasty,
The king always ate three helpings of it,
And that was all that mattered to the chief cook.
Before long,
People began to wonder what had come over the king.
He had never went near the royal forest,
And when he was not in the kitchen garden,
He was in the library,
Looking for books that would tell him the difference between a banana and a turnip,
And the best place to find a cauliflower.
The chief huntsman and all the other huntsmen had never been so dull in their lives,
But the wild boars and all the animals were as happy as the day was long.
Even the rabbits began to pop up their heads above the bracken,
And were quite amazed when they found that no one was waiting to kill them.
Truly,
They squeaked to one another.
The green enchantress must have bewitched the king after all,
And perhaps they were not far wrong.
Now,
The same thing cannot go on forever and ever,
And one morning,
When the king hastened out into the garden as usual,
The scullery maid saw at once that he had something important to say.
There is to be a ball tomorrow,
He told her.
The prime minister says so,
And there will be ninety-nine princesses there,
Besides yourself.
The little scullery maid shook her head.
I shall not be there,
She said.
I am only a scullery maid,
And no one,
Not even the fairy queen,
Can make me into a real princess.
You are the hundredth princess,
Declared the king,
And no one,
Not even the fairy queen,
Can make you into a scullery maid.
The ninety-nine other princesses have never picked the vegetables for the king's dinner,
Sighed the little scullery maid.
They would never do anything half so sweet nor so kind,
Said the king.
The ninety-nine other princesses,
Continued the little scullery maid,
Looking down at her crumpled print gown,
Have never worn such an old frock as mine,
Nor have they ever looked half so beautiful or so charming,
Said the king.
The angry voice of the chief cook sounded loudly from the back door,
And the little scullery maid turned to run down the path as usual,
But this time the king caught her by the hand and held her back.
Will you come to the ball and dance with me,
He asked coaxingly.
She looked very sad.
I'm not a real princess,
You see,
She sighed.
The angry voice of the chief cook sounded louder than before,
And she pulled away her hand and escaped down the path.
Will you come to the ball,
The king shouted after her.
Perhaps,
Laughed the little scullery maid over her shoulder,
And the next moment she was out of sight.
It was truly a strange way of accepting an invitation to the king's ball,
But then she was the hundredth princess,
And perhaps that made all the difference.
It was the most magnificent ball,
And the hundredth princess did come to it,
For just as the king finished dancing with the last of the ninety-nine princesses,
A great hubbub was heard in the hall outside,
And into the room ran the little scullery maid,
And after her ran the chief cook with the soup ladle in his hand,
And after them both came the prime minister and the chief huntsman,
And the lord high executioner,
And all the other people who were in the hall,
Because they did not know how to dance.
Who are you,
Cried the ninety-nine princesses,
As the little scullery maid stood in front of them all,
In a crumpled print gown,
With her green handkerchief tied over her head.
Who are you,
Echoed all the courtiers and all the pages who happened to be there.
She is nothing but a scullery maid,
Cried the chief cook,
Brandishing his soup ladle.
She is the green enchantress,
Gasped the chief huntsman.
You are all talking rubbish,
Said the prime minister,
Who had certainly lost some of his manner since he took to speaking the truth.
Anyone can see she is the hundredth princess,
But it was the king who really settled the matter.
She is the queen,
Of course,
He said gently,
And came and took her by the hand,
And no one thought of contradicting him,
For although real princesses have to make themselves,
It is quite certain that any king can make a queen.
When the ninety-nine princesses saw how charming the little queen was,
They crowded round her with one accord,
And gave her ninety-nine kisses.
So they were real princesses after all.
Tell us,
They begged her afterwards,
Are you really the green enchantress?
Oh no,
She said,
I gave up being an enchantress when I found I could not bewitch the king.
Why did you want to bewitch me,
Dearest?
Asked the king in amazement.
Because you were so fond of killing things,
She said.
Then I will never kill anything again as long as I live,
Vowed the king.
And that is the end of the story,
For when the little rabbits heard that the king had given up hunting,
They all gave a great gulp and swallowed their hearts,
And after that,
There was no one in the kingdom who was not happy,
For everybody's heart was in the right place.
