THE OPEN ROAD LIBRARY

“Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road, Healthy, free, the world before me.”

THE OPEN ROAD LIBRARY OF JUVENILE LITERATURE

FAIRY TALES

COMPILED AND EDITED BY
MARION FLORENCE LANSING M.A.
VOL. I
ILLUSTRATED BY
CHARLES COPELAND

GINN AND COMPANY
BOSTON · NEW YORK
CHICAGO · LONDON

[[iv]]

Copyright, 1907, by
MARION FLORENCE LANSING

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

57.12

The Athenæum Press
GINN & COMPANY · PROPRIETORS
· BOSTON · U.S.A. [[v]]

PREFACE

Fairy Tales, of which this is the first volume, follows without break an earlier book, Rhymes and Stories, and is made up chiefly of Märchen, or nursery tales, with a few drolls, or comic anecdotes. The term “fairy tale” has been used in its popular sense as including “tales in which occurs something ‘fairy,’ something extraordinary,—giants, fairies, dwarfs, speaking animals. It must also be taken to cover tales in which what is extraordinary is the stupidity of the actors.”

The tales are usually romantic, with a definite plot, but without emphasis on the point of their being fact or fiction. They do not locate the hero in history or require a definite time or place, but begin with “Once upon a time, in a certain town or village,” or with some equally indefinite introduction. They deal with the supernatural, and always end well for the hero or heroine. They have usually been retold from their original traditional form by some skilled story-teller. Very few are distinctly English, though those from other lands have been adopted by English-speaking peoples. [[vi]]

Sagas, of which “Jack the Giant Killer” is an example, differ from the other classes in having definite localities and dates assigned to them. They have been reserved for Tales of Old England, which immediately follows in the series. We have been compelled to omit from these volumes many tales which are worthy favorites, but with at least as many fairy stories as are here collected every child should be familiar. The aim has been to give a proportionate representation to each of the great story-tellers, and to each kind of story, and to introduce the best examples of the leading motifs of folklore. The original sources have been sought out in every case,—in English chapbooks, in collections of 1696 and 1795, in German and Old French,—and these versions have been carefully and minutely compared with the best versions of later times and of the present. Besides the scholarly interest attaching to such research, the practical effect has been to simplify the stories by dropping off the fanciful additions made by successive editors and returning to the beautiful simplicity and the clear, forceful language of these wonderful products of the story-teller’s art.

M. F. LANSING

Cambridge, Massachusetts [[vii]]

CONTENTS

[[viii]]

[[1]]

FAIRY TALES

RUMPELSTILTSKIN

There was once a miller who was very poor, but he had a beautiful daughter. Now it happened that he had occasion to speak with the King, and in order to appear a person of some consequence he told him that he had a daughter who could spin straw into gold.

“Now that is an art worth having,” said the King to the miller; “if your daughter is as skillful as you say, bring her to-morrow to my palace and I will put her to the test.”

When the girl was brought to him he led her into a room which was full of straw, and giving her a spinning wheel and spindle he said, “Now set to work, and if by to-morrow morning early you have not spun this straw into gold, you shall die.” [[2]]

Then he locked the door himself, and left her alone in the room.

The poor miller’s daughter sat there, and for the life of her could not think what to do. She had not the least idea how to turn straw into gold, and she became more and more unhappy, till at last she began to cry. Then all at once the door opened, and in came a tiny little man and said to her, “Good evening, Mistress Miller; why are you crying so bitterly?”

“Alas!” answered the girl, “I have to spin straw into gold, and I do not know how to do it.”

“What will you give me,” said the little man, “if I spin it for you?”

“My necklace,” said the girl.

The little man took the necklace, seated himself before the spinning wheel, and whirr, whirr, whirr, the wheel went round three times, and the reel was full of gold. Then he put on more straw, and whirr, whirr, whirr, the wheel went round three turns, and the reel was full a second time. And so it went [[3]]on till morning, when all the straw was spun and the reels were full of gold.

At sunrise the King came to the room, and when he saw the gold he was astonished and delighted, but his heart was only greedy for more. He had the miller’s daughter taken into a still larger room full of straw, and commanded her to spin that, too, in one night, if she valued her life. The girl did not know what to do, and began to cry; then the door opened as before, and the little man appeared and said, “What will you give me if I spin the straw into gold for you?”

“I will give you the ring from my finger,” answered the girl. [[4]]

The little man took the ring, began to turn the wheel round with a whirr again, and by morning had spun all the straw into glittering gold.

The King was pleased beyond measure at the sight, but still he had not gold enough. He had the miller’s daughter taken into a still larger room filled with straw, and said, “You must spin this, too, in the course of the night; but if all this straw is spun into gold by morning, you shall be my wife.”

“Even though she is only a miller’s daughter,” he thought to himself, “I could not find a richer wife anywhere in the whole world.”

When the girl was alone the little man came for the third time, and said, “What will you give me if I spin the straw for you this once more?”

“I have nothing more that I can give,” answered the girl.

“Then promise me when you are queen to give me your first child.”

“Who knows what may happen before that?” thought the miller’s daughter; and, [[5]]besides, she knew no way to help herself out of this difficulty. So she promised the little man what he asked, and for that he soon spun the straw into gold once more.

When the King came in the morning and found everything as he had wished, he took her in marriage, and the miller’s beautiful daughter became a queen.

A year later she had a beautiful child, and she never gave a thought to the little man; but all of a sudden one day he walked into her room and said, “Now give me what you promised.”

The Queen was terrified, and offered the little man all the treasures of the kingdom if he would only leave her her child.

But the little man said, “No, something living is dearer to me than all the treasures in the world.”

Then the Queen began to mourn and weep so bitterly that the little man was sorry for her, and said, “I will give you three days, and if in that time you can guess my name, you shall keep your child.” [[6]]

Then the Queen lay awake till morning, thinking over all the names she had ever heard of, and she sent a messenger over the country to inquire far and near any other names there might be. When the little man came the next day she began with Caspar, Melchior, Balthazar, and repeated all the names she knew; but at each one the little man said, “No, that’s not my name.”

The next day she sent to inquire the names of all the people in the neighborhood, and had a long list of the most uncommon and extraordinary names for the little man when he came.

“Is your name Shortribs, perhaps, or Sheepshanks, or Spindleleg?”

But he always replied, “No, that is not my name.”

The third day the messenger returned and reported: “I have not been able to find any more new names, but on my way home, as I came to a high mountain on the edge of the forest, I saw there a little house, and before the house a fire was burning, and round the [[7]]fire a ridiculous little man was hopping and dancing on one leg and crying:

“ ‘To-day I brew, to-morrow I bake,

Next morning I shall the Queen’s child take;

How glad I am that no one can dream

That Rumpelstiltskin is my name!’ ”

You can imagine how delighted the Queen was when she heard the name. And when the little man came in a little later and [[8]]asked, “Now, Lady Queen, what is my name?” she asked first, “Is your name Conrad?”

“No.”

“Is your name Henry?”

“No.”

“Is your name, perhaps, Rumpelstiltskin?”

“The bad fairies told you that! the bad fairies told you that!” screamed the little man, and in his rage he stamped his right foot so deep into the ground that his whole leg went in; then, in a passion, he seized his left foot with both hands and tore himself in two.

[[9]]

DOLL-IN-THE-GRASS

Once upon a time there was a King who had twelve sons. When they were grown big he told them they must go out into the world to win themselves wives, but these wives must each be able to spin and weave and sew a shirt in one day, else he would not have them for daughters-in-law.

To each he gave a horse and a new suit of clothes, and they went out into the world to look for their brides. When they had gone a little way together they said they would not have Boots, their youngest brother, with them, for he was stupid.

So Boots had to stay behind, and he did not know what to do or where to turn. He became very downcast, and got off his horse and sat down in the tall grass to weep. But when he had sat a while, one of the tufts in the grass began to stir and move, and out of it came a little white thing. When it [[11]]came nearer, Boots saw it was a charming little lassie, “such a tiny bit of a thing.” The lassie went up to him and asked if he would come down below and see “Doll-in-the-Grass.”

“Yes, I’d be very happy,” he said, and went.

When he got down, there sat Doll-in-the-Grass on a chair. She was the tiniest little lassie you can imagine, and very, very lovely. She asked Boots where he was going, and what was his business. So he told her how there were twelve brothers of them, and how the King had told them each one must go out into the world and find himself a wife who could spin and weave and sew a shirt in one day.

“But if you will only say at once that you will be my wife,” said Boots to Doll-in-the-Grass, “I’ll not go a step farther.”

She was willing, and so she made haste and spun and wove and sewed the shirt, but it was very, very tiny. It wasn’t more than two inches long. [[12]]

Boots went off home with it, but when he brought it out he was almost ashamed of it, it was so small. But the King was pleased with it, and said he should have her. So Boots set off, glad and happy, to fetch his little sweetheart.

When he came to Doll-in-the-Grass he wished to take her up before him on his horse. But she would not have that, for she said she would sit and drive along in a silver spoon, and that she had two small white horses to draw her. So off they set, he on his horse and she in her silver spoon, and the two horses that drew her were two tiny white mice; but Boots always kept the other [[13]]side of the road, for he was afraid lest he should ride over her, she was so little.

When they had gone a little way they came to a great piece of water. Here Boots’s horse got frightened, and shied across the road and upset the spoon, and Doll-in-the-Grass tumbled into the water. Then Boots was in great distress, for he did not know how to get her out again; but in a little while up came a merman with her, and now she was as tall and well grown as other men and women, and far lovelier than she had been before. So he took her up before him on his horse, and rode home.

All Boots’s brothers had come back with their sweethearts, but none had woven so dainty a little shirt as Doll-in-the-Grass, and none were half so lovely. When the brothers saw her they were as jealous as jealous could be of their brother; but the King was so delighted with her that he gave them a fine wedding feast, and had them live with him in his palace, and he gave out word that they should follow him on the throne. [[14]]

HOW TO TELL A REAL PRINCESS

There was once a prince who wanted to marry a princess. But she must be a real princess, mind you. So he traveled all around the world to find one, but everywhere there was always something in the way. Not that there was any lack of princesses, but whether they were real princesses he could not seem to make out; there was always something that did not seem quite right. So home he came, quite out of spirits, for he did wish so much to have a real princess.

One evening a terrible storm came on. It thundered and lightened, and the rain poured down in torrents; indeed, it was a fearful night. In the midst of it there came a knocking at the palace gate, and the old king went out to open it.

It was a princess who stood outside. But, oh, dear! what a state she was in from the rain and storm! The water was streaming [[15]]from her hair and clothes; it ran in at the tips of her shoes and out at the heels; yet she insisted she was a real princess.

“Very well,” thought the old queen; “that we shall presently see.” She said nothing, but she went into the bedroom and took [[16]]off all the bedding, and then laid a pea on the framework of the bedstead. Having done this, she took twenty mattresses and laid them upon the pea, and twenty eider-down quilts on top of the mattresses.

The princess lay upon this bed all night. In the morning she was asked how she had slept.

“Oh, miserably!” said the princess. “I scarcely closed my eyes the whole night through. I’m sure I don’t know what was in the bed. I lay upon something so hard that I am black and blue all over from it. It is dreadful!”

Now they knew at once that she was a real princess, since through twenty mattresses and through twenty eider-down quilts she had felt the pea. None but a real princess could be so sensitive.

So the prince took her for his wife, for he knew that at last in her he had found a real princess. And the pea was put in the Royal Museum, where it is still to be seen unless some one has stolen it.

And this, mind you, is a true story. [[17]]

THE FROG PRINCE

In olden times there lived a King whose daughters were all beautiful, but the youngest was so lovely that the sun himself wondered at her beauty every time he looked into her face.

Near to the King’s castle lay a dark, gloomy forest; and in the forest, under an old linden tree, was a fountain. When the day was very hot the King’s daughter used to go into the wood and sit down by the side of the cool fountain. Her favorite amusement, as she sat there, was to toss a golden ball up into the air and catch it again. Once she threw it so high that, instead of falling into the hand that she stretched out for it, it dropped upon the ground and rolled straight into the water.

The King’s daughter followed it with her eyes as long as she could, but it disappeared, for the well was so deep that she could not [[18]]see the bottom. Then she began to cry bitterly for her ball.

As she sat weeping she heard a voice calling: “What is the matter, King’s daughter? Your tears would touch the heart of a stone.”

She looked round towards the spot whence the voice came and saw a frog stretching his thick, ugly head out of the water.

“Oh, it is you, is it, old water-paddler!” she said. “Well, then, I am crying for the loss of my golden ball which has fallen into the fountain.”

“Then do not cry any more,” answered the frog; “I can get it for you. But what will you give me if I bring back your plaything to you?”

“Oh, anything you like, dear frog!” she said. “My dresses, my pearls and jewels, even the golden crown I wear.”

“No,” answered the frog, “your clothes, your pearls and jewels, or even your golden crown are nothing to me; but if you will love me and let me be your companion and playfellow, sit by you at table, eat from your [[19]]little golden plate, drink out of your cup, and sleep in your little bed,—if you will promise me all this, then I will bring you back your golden ball from the bottom of the fountain.”

“Oh, yes,” she replied, “I promise you anything if you will only bring me back my ball!”

She was thinking to herself all this while: “What nonsense the silly frog does talk! He lives in the water with other frogs, [[20]]and croaks, and cannot be anybody’s playfellow.”

But the frog, as soon as he had received the promise, ducked his head under the water and sank down to the bottom. In a little while he came up again with the ball in his mouth, and threw it on the grass. The King’s daughter was full of joy when she saw her pretty plaything again, and, catching it up, ran off with it.

“Wait! wait!” cried the frog. “Take me with you; I cannot run as fast as you.”

But the young Princess would not listen to the frog’s croaking, but ran home and soon forgot the poor frog, who had to go back to his fountain again.

The next day, when the Princess was sitting at table with the King and his courtiers and eating out of her little golden plate, there came a sound of something creeping up the marble staircase, splish, splash, splish, splash, and presently there came a knock at the door, and a voice crying, “Youngest King’s daughter, open to me.” [[21]]

She ran to see who was outside; but when she opened the door and saw the frog she shut it again in great haste and sat down at the table looking very much frightened. The King, seeing that his daughter was alarmed, said to her: “My child, what is the matter? Is there a giant outside at the door, wanting to carry you off?”

“Oh, no!” she replied; “it is no giant,—only a great ugly frog.”

“A frog! What can he want with you, my daughter?”

“Yesterday when I was playing with my golden ball by the fountain in the forest it fell into the water, and because I cried the frog [[22]]brought it out for me, and he made me promise that he should come here and be my companion; but I never thought he could get out of the water to come. And now he is outside there, and wants to come in to me.”

Just then he knocked at the door a second time, and called:

“Youngest King’s daughter,

Open to me.

Do you not know

What you promised me,

Yesterday

Under the linden tree?

Youngest King’s daughter,

Open to me.”

Then the King said: “My daughter, what you have promised, you must do. Go and open the door for him.”

She went and opened the door, and the frog hopped after her, close to her feet, and quite up to her chair. There he sat and cried, “Lift me up beside you.”

She hesitated, till the King commanded her to do it. [[23]]

When the frog was on the table he said, “Now push your little plate nearer to me, and we will eat together.”

She did it, but it was easy to see that she did not do it willingly. The frog seemed to enjoy his dinner very much, but every mouthful she ate choked her. At last he said, “I have eaten enough, and am tired; now carry me to your little room, and make your silken bed ready, that we may sleep together.”

The King’s daughter began to cry, for she was afraid of the cold frog. She did not like to touch him, and now he wanted to sleep in her beautiful, neat little bed. [[24]]

But the King was displeased at her tears, and said, “He who helped you when you were in trouble must not be despised now.”

So she took up the frog with two fingers, carried him upstairs, and put him in a corner of her room.

When she got into bed he crept up to her and said: “I am tired, and I want to go to sleep too. Lift me up, or I will tell your father.”

Then she was very angry, and picked him up and threw him with all her strength against the wall, saying, “Now will you be quiet, you ugly frog?”

But as he fell, how surprised she was to see the frog change into a handsome young Prince with beautiful, friendly eyes! He told her how he had been bewitched by a wicked fairy, and how no one could have released him from the spell but herself. He now became, by her father’s will, her dear companion and her husband.

The young Prince wanted to take her to his own kingdom. So on the wedding day [[25]]a splendid carriage drawn by eight white horses with white plumes on their heads and golden harness drove up to the door. Behind it stood the servant of the young Prince, the faithful Henry. This faithful Henry had been so unhappy when his master was changed into a frog that he had bound three iron bands round his heart to keep it from breaking with grief and sorrow.

The carriage with the Prince and his bride soon drove away, with Henry behind. They had only gone a little way when the Prince heard a loud crack behind him, as if something had broken. He turned round, and cried, “Henry, the carriage is breaking!”

“No, sir,” he replied, “it is not the carriage, but only the iron bands which I bound round my heart for fear it should break with sorrow while you were a frog confined in the fountain. They are breaking now because of my happiness.”

The Prince and Princess never forgot faithful Henry, who had loved his master so well while he was in trouble. [[26]]

CINDERELLA

There was once a gentleman who took for his second wife the proudest and most haughty lady that was ever seen. She had two daughters who were exactly like her in character, as in everything else. The gentleman had likewise a young daughter, but of uncommon sweetness and gentleness of disposition, which she took from her mother, who was the best person in the world.

The wedding was hardly over when the stepmother began to give full vent to her bad temper. She could not bear this young girl, whose good qualities made her own daughters appear even more hateful in contrast. She gave her the meanest work in the house to do: it was she who washed the dishes and tables, and scrubbed the stairs, and cleaned the chambers of madam and her young lady daughters. She slept at the [[27]]top of the house in a garret, on a miserable straw bed, while her sisters were in rooms with inlaid floors, where they had beds of the newest fashion, and mirrors in which they could see themselves from head to foot.

All this the poor girl bore patiently. She dared not complain to her father, who would only have reproved her, for his wife governed him entirely. When she had done her work she used to go into the chimney corner and sit among the cinders; so they commonly called her “Cinder-wench.” The younger sister, who was not so rude and uncivil as the elder, called her “Cinderella.” But Cinderella, for all her mean dress, was [[28]]still a hundred times more beautiful than her sisters, although they were always dressed magnificently.

It happened that the King’s son gave a ball, to which he invited all persons of fashion. Our two young ladies were invited, for they were people of distinction in the country. They were much delighted and were absorbed in selecting the gowns and headdresses which would best become them. Here was fresh trial for Cinderella, for it was she who ironed her sisters’ linen and starched their ruffles. All day long they talked of nothing but how they should be dressed.

“For my part,” said the elder, “I will wear my red velvet dress with French trimmings.”

“And I,” said the younger, “shall have only my ordinary skirt; but to make amends for that I shall wear my gold-flowered mantle and my diamond necklace, which are very far from being ordinary.”

They sent for the best hairdresser to arrange their hair in the most stylish way, and bought patches for their cheeks from [[29]]the most fashionable maker. They called in Cinderella to consult with them, for she had good taste. She gave them the best advice she could, and even offered to arrange their headdresses, a proposal which they were very ready to accept.

While she was doing this they said to her, “Cinderella, should you not like to go to the ball?”

“Ah!” replied Cinderella, “you mock me! It is not for me to go to balls.”

“You are right,” said they; “people might well laugh to see a cinder-wench at a ball.” Any one but Cinderella might have left their hair awry, but she was good-humored and did it to perfection.

For almost two days they scarcely ate anything, so transported were they with joy. They broke a dozen or more laces by drawing them too tight in their efforts to make themselves look as slender as possible, and they spent all their time before the mirror.

At last the happy day came; they departed, and Cinderella followed them with [[30]]her eyes as long as she could. When she could see them no longer she began to cry.

Her godmother, seeing her in tears, asked her what was the matter.

“I wish—I w-i-s-h”—but she could not finish for weeping.

Her godmother, who was a fairy, said to her, “You wish you could go to the ball, do you not?”

“Alas, yes!” said Cinderella, sighing.

“Well,” said her godmother, “be a good girl, and I will see to it that you go.”

She led her into her chamber, and said to her, “Run into the garden, my child, and fetch me a pumpkin.”

Cinderella went at once to pick the finest she could find, although she could not imagine how this pumpkin could help her to go to the ball. [[31]]

Her godmother scooped out the inside, leaving nothing but the rind; then she struck it with her wand, and the pumpkin immediately became a beautiful gilded coach.

She then went to look into the mouse trap, where she found six mice, all alive. She told Cinderella to lift the door of the trap, and as each mouse passed out the godmother gave it a little tap with her wand and it was turned into a fine horse. The six made a splendid team of six horses of a fine dapple-gray mouse color.

While she was wondering what she should do for a coachman, Cinderella said, “I will run and see if there is not a rat in the rat trap; we will turn him into a coachman.”

“You are right,” said her godmother; “go and look.”

Cinderella brought the trap to her, and in it there were three huge rats. The fairy chose the one which had the largest beard, and, touching him with her wand, turned him into an imposing coachman with the finest mustache and whiskers ever seen. [[32]]

Then she said to Cinderella, “Go into the garden and you will find six lizards behind the watering pot; bring them to me.”

She had no sooner done this than her godmother changed them into six footmen, who jumped up at once behind the coach in their laced liveries, and held on as if they had done nothing else all their lives.

The fairy then said to Cinderella, “Well, here is something in which to go to the ball; are you not pleased with it?”

“Yes; but am I to go like this,—in these miserable rags?”

Her godmother simply touched her with her wand, and in the same instant her clothes were changed into apparel of cloth of gold and silver, all decked with jewels. Then she gave her a pair of the prettiest glass slippers in the world. Thus attired, she got into the carriage. Her godmother charged her on no account to stay beyond midnight, and warned her that, if she stayed one moment longer, her coach would become a pumpkin again, her horses mice, her [[34]]footmen lizards, and her clothes just as they were before. She promised her godmother that she would not fail to leave the ball before midnight, and set off, almost beside herself with joy.

The King’s son, when he was told that a great Princess, whom nobody knew, had arrived, ran out to receive her; he gave her his hand as she alighted from the coach and conducted her to the hall where the company was assembled. A deep silence at once fell upon every one; they stopped dancing and the violins ceased to play, so taken up was every one with gazing at the marvelous beauty of this unknown arrival. Nothing was heard but the confused murmur of voices saying, “Ah! how beautiful she is!”

The King himself, old as he was, could not keep his eyes off her, and whispered to the Queen that it was a long time since he had seen so beautiful and so lovely a creature.

All the ladies were taken up with studying her headdress and her costume, in order to [[35]]have some made for themselves after the same pattern the next day,—provided they could find materials which would be fine enough and work-people clever enough to make them.

The King’s son conducted her to the seat of honor, and soon took her out to dance with him. She danced with such grace that every one admired her still more. A fine collation was served, but the young Prince was so absorbed in gazing at her that he did not touch a morsel.

She seated herself beside her sisters and showed them a thousand courtesies, sharing with them, among other things, the oranges and citrons which the Prince had presented to her. This astonished them very much, for they did not know her.

While they were conversing together Cinderella heard the clock strike a quarter to twelve. She rose at once, courtesied to the company, and hastened away as fast as she could.

As soon as she got home she ran to find her godmother, and, after having thanked [[36]]her, told her how much she wished to go to the ball the next day, because the King’s son had begged her to come. While she was telling her godmother all that had happened at the ball her two sisters knocked at the door.

Cinderella opened it. “How long you have stayed!” she said, yawning, rubbing her eyes, and stretching herself as if she had just been awakened. (She had not, however, had any great desire for sleep since they left her.)

“If you had been at the ball,” said one of her sisters, “you would not have been sleepy or bored. There came thither the most beautiful Princess, the very loveliest ever seen; she paid us a thousand attentions, and gave us oranges and citrons.”

Cinderella asked the name of this Princess, but they replied that no one knew it; that the King’s son was very much disturbed by this, and would give anything in the world to know who she was.

Cinderella smiled and said: “How very beautiful she must be! How fortunate you [[37]]are! Could I not see her? Ah, dear Miss Charlotte, do lend me the yellow gown that you wear every day!”

“Indeed!” said Charlotte, “I should think so! Lend my dress to a dirty cinder-wench like you! I must be out of my mind indeed if I would do that.”

Cinderella expected this refusal and was very glad of it, for she would have been greatly embarrassed if her sister had been willing to lend her the gown.

The next day the two sisters went to the ball, and so did Cinderella, but dressed much more magnificently than before. The King’s son was always by her side, and made all manner of pretty speeches to her. The young lady was far from being wearied by them, and completely forgot her godmother’s commands, so that she heard the clock begin to strike twelve when she had no idea that it was even eleven o’clock yet. She rose at once, and fled as nimbly as a deer. The Prince followed, but could not overtake her; but she dropped one of her [[38]]glass slippers, which he picked up very carefully.

Cinderella reached home quite out of breath, without either coach or footmen, and in her old clothes, having nothing left of all her finery but one of her little glass slippers, the mate of the one which she had dropped. The guards at the palace gates were questioned as to whether they had not seen a princess go out, and they replied that they had seen no one go out but a little ragged [[39]]girl who looked more like a peasant than a princess.

When her two sisters returned from the ball Cinderella asked them if they had had a good time, and if the beautiful lady was there. They told her Yes, but that she had hurried away as the clock struck twelve, and in such great haste that she had dropped one of her little glass slippers, the prettiest in the world. They told, too, how the Prince had picked it up, and how he had done nothing but look at it all the rest of the evening, and agreed that he was undoubtedly very much in love with the beautiful owner of the little slipper.

They spoke truly, for a few days after, the Prince had it proclaimed, at the sound of the trumpet, that he would marry her whose foot this slipper fitted exactly. They began to try it on the princesses, then on the duchesses, and then on all the ladies of the court, but to no purpose. They brought it to the two sisters, and each one did all she possibly could to squeeze a foot into the [[40]]slipper; but neither could manage to do it. Cinderella, who was watching them and recognized her slipper, said laughingly, “Let me see if it will not fit me!”

Her sisters burst out laughing, and made fun of her. The gentleman who was trying on the slipper looked at her earnestly, and finding her very beautiful, said that it was but fair she should try, and that he had orders to let every young lady try it on. He made Cinderella sit down, and putting the slipper to her little foot, he saw that it slipped on easily and fitted like wax.

The astonishment of the two sisters was great, but it was even greater when Cinderella pulled from her pocket the other little slipper and put it on her foot. Thereupon in came her godmother, who, touching Cinderella’s clothes with her wand, made them become more magnificent than those which she had worn before.

Now her sisters recognized her as the beautiful stranger whom they had seen at the ball. They threw themselves at her feet [[41]]and asked her forgiveness for all the ill treatment she had received from them. Cinderella raised them up and, embracing them, said that she forgave them with all her heart, and begged them to love her always.

She was conducted to the young Prince, dressed as she was. He found her more beautiful than ever, and a few days later married her. Cinderella, who was as good as she was beautiful, gave her two sisters apartments in the palace, and married them that same day to two great lords of the court.

[[42]]

HANS IN LUCK

Hans had served his master seven years, and at the end of that time he said to him, “Master, my time is up; now I should like to go home to my mother, so give me my wages, if you please.”

His master answered, “You have served me faithfully and well, and as the service has been, so shall the wages be”; and he gave him a lump of gold as big as his head.

Hans pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket, wrapped the lump in it, slung it over his shoulder, and set out on the way home.

As he was trudging painstakingly and laboriously along the road a horseman came in sight, trotting gayly and briskly along on a spirited horse.

“Ah,” said Hans aloud, “what a fine thing riding is! There you sit as comfortable as in a chair; you stumble over no [[43]]stones, you save your shoes, and you get over the ground you hardly know how.”

The horseman, overhearing him, stopped and said, “Halloo, Hans! Why do you go on foot then?”

“I can’t help it,” answered Hans, “for I have this bundle to carry home. It is gold, to be sure, but I cannot hold my head straight for it, and it hurts my shoulder, too.”

“I will tell you what,” said the horseman, “we will exchange. I will give you my horse, and you shall give me your lump.” [[44]]

“With all my heart,” said Hans; “but I tell you beforehand that you are taking a good heavy load on yourself.”

The horseman got down, took the gold, and helped Hans up, putting the bridle into his hands, and said, “Now, when you want to go at a really good pace, you must click your tongue and cry, ‘Gee up! gee up!’ ”

Hans was delighted when he found himself sitting on a horse and riding along so freely and easily. After a while it occurred to him that he might go still faster, and he began to click with his tongue and cry, “Gee up! gee up!” The horse broke into a gallop, and before Hans knew what he was about he was thrown off and was lying in a ditch which separated the fields from the highroad. The horse would have run away if it had not been stopped by a peasant who was coming along the road and driving a cow before him. Hans felt himself all over, and picked himself up; but he was vexed, and said to the peasant: “This riding on [[45]]horseback is no joke, I can tell you, especially when a man gets on a mare like mine, that kicks and throws one off, so that it is a wonder one’s neck is not broken. Never again will I ride that animal! Now I like your cow; you can walk quietly along behind her, and you have her milk, butter, and cheese, every day, into the bargain. What would I not give for such a cow!”

“Well, now,” said the peasant, “if it would give you as much pleasure as all that, I don’t mind exchanging the cow for the horse.”

Hans agreed to this with the greatest delight, and the peasant, swinging himself upon the horse, rode off in a hurry.

Hans drove his cow peacefully before him, and thought over his lucky bargain. “If I only have a bit of bread—and I ought never to be without that—I can have butter and cheese with it as often as I like; if I am thirsty, I have only to milk the cow and I have milk to drink. What more could heart desire?” [[46]]

When he came to an inn he made a halt, and ate with great satisfaction all the bread he had brought with him for dinner and supper, and spent his last two farthings for a glass of beer to drink with it. Then he drove his cow along in the direction of his mother’s village. The heat grew more and more oppressive as the middle of the day drew near, and Hans found himself on a wide heath which it would take about an hour to cross. He was very hot and thirsty.

“This is easily remedied,” thought Hans; “I will milk the cow and refresh myself with the milk.”

He tied her to a tree, and as he had no pail he put his leather cap underneath her; but try as hard as he could, not a drop of milk came. He had put himself in a very awkward position, too, and at last the impatient beast gave him such a kick on the head that he tumbled over on the ground and was so dazed that for a long time he could not think where he was. [[47]]

Fortunately a butcher came along soon, trundling a wheelbarrow in which lay a young pig.

“What’s the matter here?” he cried, as he helped Hans up.

Hans told him what had happened. The butcher handed him his flask and said: “There, take a drink; it will do you good. That cow might well give no milk; she is an old beast, and only fit at best for the plow or for the butcher.”

“Dear, dear!” said Hans, running his fingers through his hair, “who would have [[48]]thought it! It is an idea to kill the beast and have the meat. But I do not care much for beef,—it is not juicy enough. Now a young pig like yours,—that is what would taste good; and then there are the sausages!”

“Take heed, Hans,” said the butcher; “out of love for you I will exchange and let you have the pig for the cow.”

“May Heaven reward you for your kindness!” cried Hans, handing over the cow as the butcher untied the pig from the barrow and put into his hand the string with which it was tied.

Hans went on again, thinking how everything was turning out just as he wished; if he did meet with any mishap, it was immediately set right. Presently a lad overtook him who was carrying a fine white goose under his arm. They said “Good morning” to each other, and then Hans began at once to tell of his good luck and how he always made such good bargains. The lad told him that he was taking the goose to a christening feast. [[49]]

[[50]]

“Just lift it,” said he to Hans, holding it up by the wings, “and feel how heavy it is; it has been fattened up for the last eight weeks. Whoever gets a taste of it when it is roasted will get a rare bit.”

“Yes,” said Hans, weighing it in one hand, “it is a good weight, but my pig is no trifle either.”

Meanwhile the lad kept looking suspiciously from one side to the other and shook his head.

“Look here,” he began, “I’m not so sure it’s all right with your pig. In the village through which I passed, the mayor himself had just had one stolen from his sty. I fear—I fear you have got hold of it there in your hand. They have sent out people to look for it, and it would be a bad business for you if you were found with it; at the very least, you would be shut up in the dark hole.”

Honest Hans was very much frightened.

“Alas!” he said, “help me out of this trouble! You are more at home in these [[51]]parts than I; take my pig and let me have your goose.”

“I shall run some risk if I do,” answered the lad, “but I will not be the cause of your getting into trouble.”

So he took the cord in his hand and drove the pig quickly away by a side path.

Honest Hans, relieved of his anxiety, plodded along towards home with the goose under his arm. “When I really come to think it over,” he said to himself, “I have even gained by this exchange: first, there is the good roast; then the quantity of fat that will drip out of it in roasting and will keep us in goose fat to eat on our bread for a quarter of a year; and last of all there are the fine white feathers, with which I will stuff my pillow, and then I warrant I shall sleep like a top. How delighted my mother will be!”

As he was going through the last village he came to a knife grinder with his cart, singing, as his wheel whirred busily around,

“Scissors and knives I quickly grind,

While my coat flies out in the wind behind.”

[[52]]

Hans stopped to watch him; at last he spoke to him and said, “You appear to have a good business, if I may judge by your merry song.”

“Yes,” answered the knife grinder, “this business has a golden bottom. A good grinder finds money in his pocket whenever he puts his hand in it. But where did you buy that fine goose?”

“I did not buy it, but took it in exchange for my pig.”

“And the pig?”

“That I got for a cow.”

“And the cow?”

“I took that for a horse.”

“And the horse?”

“For that I gave a lump of gold as big as my head.”

“And the gold?”

“Oh, that was my wages for seven years’ service!”

“You have certainly known how to look after yourself each time,” said the grinder. “If you can only get on so far as to hear [[53]]the money jingle in your pockets whenever you stand up, you will indeed have made your fortune.”

“How shall I manage that?” said Hans.

“You must become a grinder, like me; nothing in particular is needed for it but a grindstone,—everything else will come of itself. I have one of those here; to be sure it is a little worn, but you need not give me anything for it but your goose. Will you do it?”

“How can you ask?” said Hans. “Why, I shall be the luckiest man in the world. [[54]]If I have money every time I put my hand into my pocket, what more can I have to trouble about?”

So he handed him the goose and took the grindstone in exchange.

“Now,” said the grinder, picking up an ordinary big stone that lay by the road, “here is another good stone into the bargain. You can hammer out all your old nails on it and straighten them. Take it with you and keep it carefully.”

Hans shouldered the stones and walked on with a light heart, his eyes shining with joy. “I must have been born under a lucky star,” he exclaimed; “everything happens to me just as I want it.”

Meanwhile, as he had been on his legs since daybreak, he began to feel tired. He was hungry, too, for in his joy at the bargain by which he got his cow he had eaten up all his store of food at once, and had had none since. At last he felt quite unable to go farther, and was forced to rest every minute or two. Besides, the stones weighed him [[55]]down dreadfully. He could not help thinking how nice it would be if he did not have to carry them any farther.

He dragged himself slowly over to a well in the field, meaning to rest and refresh himself with a draft of cool water. To keep the stones from hurting him while he knelt to drink, he laid them carefully on the edge of the well. Then he sat down, and was about to stoop and drink, but made a slip which gave the stones a little push, and both of them rolled off into the water. When Hans saw them sinking to the bottom he jumped for joy, and knelt down and thanked God, with tears in his eyes, for having shown him this further favor, and relieved him of the heavy stones (which were the only things that troubled him) without his having anything to reproach himself with.

“There is no man under the sun so lucky as I,” he cried out. Then with a light heart, and free from every burden, he ran on until he reached his mother’s home. [[56]]

DIAMONDS AND TOADS

Once upon a time there was a widow who had two daughters. The elder was so much like her, both in looks and in character, that whoever saw the daughter saw the mother. They were both so disagreeable and so proud that there was no living with them. The younger, who was the image of her father in courtesy and sweetness of temper, was one of the most beautiful girls ever seen. As people naturally love those who are like them, this mother doted upon her elder daughter, and at the same time conceived a great aversion to the younger. She made her eat in the kitchen and work continually.

Among other things, the poor child had to go twice a day to draw water more than a mile and a half from the house, and bring home a large pitcherful of it. One day when she was at the fountain a poor [[57]]woman came to her and asked her to let her drink.

“Oh, yes! with all my heart, Goody,” said the pretty little girl. Rinsing the pitcher at once, she filled it at the clearest part of the fountain and gave it to her, holding up the pitcher all the while, that she might drink the more easily.

Then the good woman said to her, “You are so pretty, so good, and so courteous, that I cannot help giving you a gift.”

For this was a fairy, who had taken the form of a poor countrywoman to see how far the civility and good manners of this young girl would go. [[58]]

“I will give you for a gift,” continued the fairy, “that at every word you speak there shall come out of your mouth either a flower or a jewel.”

When this pretty girl got home, her mother scolded her for staying so long at the fountain.

“I ask your pardon, mamma,” said the poor girl, “for not making more haste”; and as she spoke these words there fell from her lips three roses, three pearls, and four diamonds.

“What do I see here?” said the mother, quite astonished. “I think I see pearls and diamonds come out of the girl’s mouth. How happens this, my child?”

This was the first time she had ever called her “my child.”

The girl told her frankly all that had happened to her, dropping from her mouth great numbers of diamonds as she spoke.

“Really,” cried the mother, “I must send my own dear daughter thither. Fanny! Fanny! look! see what comes out of your sister’s mouth when she speaks! Would you [[59]]not like, my dear, to have the same gift? You have only to go and draw water at the fountain, and when a poor woman asks you to let her drink, to give it to her very civilly.”

“I should like to see myself going to the fountain to draw water,” said this ill-bred minx.

“I insist that you go,” said the mother, “and that at once.”

So away she went, taking with her the best silver tankard in the house, but grumbling all the way.

She no sooner reached the fountain than she saw coming out of the wood a lady, magnificently dressed, who came up to her and asked for a drink.

This was the same fairy who had appeared to her sister, but she had now taken the air and the dress of a princess, to see how far this girl’s rudeness would go.

“Am I come here,” said the ill-bred, saucy girl, “to serve you with water, pray? I suppose this silver tankard was brought wholly on purpose for your ladyship, was [[60]]it? I should think so! You must drink out of the fountain, if you want any.”

“You are hardly polite,” answered the fairy, without putting herself in a passion. “Well, then, since you are so disobliging, I give you for a gift, that at every word you speak there shall come out of your mouth a snake or a toad.”

As soon as her mother saw her coming, she cried out, “Well, daughter?”

“Well, mother,” answered the rude girl, throwing out of her mouth a viper and a toad.

“Oh, mercy!” cried the mother, “what is this I see? It is her sister who is the cause of all this, but she shall pay for it”; and immediately she ran to beat her.

The poor child fled away from her and went to hide herself in the forest near by. The King’s son, as he was returning from hunting, met her, and seeing how beautiful she was, asked her what she was doing there all alone, and why she was crying.

“Alas, sir, my mother has turned me out of doors!” [[61]]

The King’s son, seeing five or six pearls and as many diamonds fall from her mouth, desired her to tell him how that happened. Then she told him the whole story.

The King’s son fell in love with her, and, considering that such a gift was worth more than any marriage portion any one else could bring, conducted her to the palace of the King, his father, and there married her.

As for her sister, she made herself so much hated that her own mother turned her out of doors. The miserable girl, after wandering about without finding any one who would take her in, went away to a corner of the wood and there died. [[62]]

PUSS IN BOOTS

Once upon a time there was a miller who, when he died, had nothing to leave to his three sons but his mill, his ass, and his cat. The division was soon made. Neither the notary nor the attorney were sent for; they would soon have eaten up all the poor patrimony. The eldest had the mill, the second the ass, and the youngest nothing but the cat.

The youngest was quite downcast at having so poor a share. [[63]]

“My brothers,” said he, “may get their living handsomely enough by joining their portions together; but as for me, when I have eaten my cat and made me a muff of his skin, I must die of hunger.”

The cat, who heard all this without appearing to do so, came up to him and said with a grave and serious air, “Do not thus afflict yourself, my good master; you have only to give me a bag, and get a pair of boots made for me,—that I may scamper through the dirt and the brambles,—and you shall see that you have not so poor a portion in me as you imagine.”

Though the cat’s master did not build great hopes on what he said, yet he had seen him play such cunning tricks to catch rats and mice,—such as hanging himself by his heels, or hiding himself in the meal to make believe he was dead,—that he did not altogether despair of his helping him in his misery. When the cat had what he asked for, he booted himself very gallantly, and putting his bag about his neck, he took hold [[64]]of the two strings with his fore paws, and went into a warren where there were a great many rabbits. He put bran and parsley into his bag, and stretching himself out at full length as if he were dead, he waited for some young rabbits, not yet acquainted with the snares and tricks of this world, to come and rummage his bag for what he had put into it.

Scarcely had he lain down before his wish was fulfilled. A rash and foolish young rabbit jumped headlong into his bag, and Master Puss immediately drew close the strings, and killed him without mercy. Proud of his prey, he went with it to the palace and asked to speak with the King. He was shown upstairs into the King’s apartment, and making a low bow, said to him: “I have brought you, sire, a rabbit from the warren of my Lord the Marquis of Carabas [for that was the title which he was pleased to give his master], which he has commanded me to present to your Majesty with the assurance of his respect.” [[65]]

“Tell your master,” said the King, “that I thank him, and that he has given me great pleasure.”