CINDERELLA, OR THE GLASS SLIPPER
I. CINDERELLA IN THE KITCHEN
Once upon a time there lived a man and his wife and one beautiful daughter. The wife fell sick and died, and some time after the father married again, for he needed some one to take care of his child. The new wife appeared very well before the wedding, but afterward she showed a bad temper. She had two children of her own, and they were proud and unkind like their mother. They could not bear their gentle sister, and they made her do all the hard work.
She washed the dishes, and scrubbed the stairs. She swept the floor in my lady’s chamber, and took care of the rooms of the two pert misses. They slept on soft beds in fine rooms, and had tall looking-glasses, so that they could admire themselves from top to toe. She lay on an old straw sack in the garret.
She bore all this without complaint. She did her work, and then sat in the corner among the ashes and cinders. So her two sisters gave her the name of Cinderella or the cinder-maid. But Cinderella was really much more beautiful than they; and she surely was more sweet and gentle.
Now the king’s son gave a ball, and he invited all the rich and the grand. Cinderella’s two sisters were fine ladies; they were to go to the ball. Perhaps they would even dance with the prince. So they had new gowns made, and they looked over all their finery.
Here was fresh work for poor Cinderella. She must starch their ruffles and iron their linen. All day long they talked of nothing but their fine clothes.
“I shall wear my red velvet dress,” said the elder, “and trim it with my point lace.”
“And I,” said the younger sister, “shall wear a silk gown, but I shall wear over it a gold brocade, and I shall put on my diamonds. You have nothing so fine.”
Then they began to quarrel over their clothes, and Cinderella tried to make peace between them. She helped them about their dresses, and offered to arrange their hair on the night of the ball.
While she was thus busy, the sisters said to her:—
“And pray, Cinderella, would you like to go to the ball?”
“Nay,” said the poor girl; “you are mocking me. It is not for such as I to go to balls.”
“True enough,” they said. “Folks would laugh to see a cinder-maid at a court ball.”
Any one else would have dressed their hair ill to spite them for their rudeness. But Cinderella was good-natured, and only took more pains to make them look well.
The two sisters scarcely ate a morsel for two days before the ball. They wished to look thin and graceful. They lost their tempers over and over, and they spent most of the time before their tall glasses. There they turned and turned to see how they looked behind, and how their long trains hung.
At last the evening came, and off they set in a coach. Cinderella watched them till they were out of sight, and then she sat down by the kitchen fire and began to weep.
All at once her fairy godmother appeared, with her wand.
“What are you crying for, my little maid?”
“I wish—I wish,” began the poor girl, but her voice was choked with tears.
“You wish that you could go to the ball?”
Cinderella nodded.
“Well, then, if you will be a good girl, you shall go. Run quick and fetch me a pumpkin from the garden.”
Cinderella flew to the garden and brought back the finest pumpkin she could find. She could not guess what use it would be, but the fairy scooped it hollow, and then touched it with her wand. The pumpkin became at once a splendid gilt coach.
“Now fetch me the mouse-trap from the pantry.”
In the mouse-trap were six sleek mice. The fairy opened the door, and as they ran out she touched each with her wand, and it became a gray horse. But what was she to do for a coachman?
“We might look for a rat in the rat-trap,” said Cinderella.
“That is a good thought. Run and bring the rat-trap, my dear.”
Back came Cinderella with the trap. In it were three large rats. The fairy chose one that had long black whiskers, and she made him the coachman.
“Now go into the garden and bring me six lizards. You will find them behind the water-pot.”
These were no sooner brought than, lo! with a touch of the wand they were turned into six footmen, who jumped up behind the coach, as if they had done nothing else all their days. Then the fairy said:—
“Here is your coach and six, Cinderella; your coachman and your footmen. Now you can go to the ball.”
“What! in these clothes?” and Cinderella looked down at her ragged frock. The fairy laughed, and just touched her with the wand. In a twinkling, her shabby clothes were changed to a dress of gold and silver lace, and on her bare feet were silk stockings and a pair of glass slippers, the prettiest ever seen.
Original
“Now go to the ball, Cinderella; but remember, if you stay one moment after midnight, your coach will instantly become a pumpkin, your horses will be mice, your coachman a rat, and your footmen lizards. And you? You will be once more only a cinder-maid in a ragged frock and with bare feet.”
II. CINDERELLA IN THE PALACE
Cinderella promised and drove away in high glee. She dashed up to the palace, and her coach was so fine that the king’s son came down the steps of the palace to hand out this unknown princess. He led her to the hall where all the guests were dancing.
The moment she appeared all voices were hushed, the music stopped, and the dancers stood still. Such a beautiful princess had never been seen! Even the king, old as he was, turned to the queen and said:—
“She is the most beautiful being I ever saw—since I first saw you!”
As for the ladies of the court, they were all busy looking at Cinderella’s clothes. They meant to get some just like them the very next day, if possible.
The prince led Cinderella to the place of highest rank, and asked her hand for the next dance. She danced with so much grace that he admired her more and more. Supper was brought in, but the prince could not keep his eyes off the beautiful stranger. Cinderella went and sat by her sisters, and shared with them the fruit which the prince gave her. They were very proud to have her by them, for they never dreamed who she really was.
Cinderella was talking with them, when she heard the clock strike the quarter hour before twelve. She went at once to the king and queen, and made them a low courtesy and bade them good-night. The queen said there was to be another ball the next night, and she must come to that. The prince led her down the steps to her coach, and she drove home.
At the house the fairy sat waiting for Cinderella. The maiden began to tell all that had happened, and was in the midst of her story, when a knock was heard at the door. It was the sisters coming home from the ball. The fairy disappeared, and Cinderella went to the door, rubbing her eyes, as if she had just waked from a nap. She was once more a poor little cinder-maid.
“How late you are!” she said, as she opened the door.
“If you had been to the ball, you would not have thought it late,” said her sisters. “There came the most beautiful princess that ever was seen. She was very polite to us, and loaded us with oranges and grapes.”
“Who was she?” asked Cinderella.
“Nobody knew her name. The prince would give his eyes to know.”
“Ah! how I should like to see her,” said Cinderella. “Oh, do, my Lady Javotte,”—that was the name of the elder sister,—“lend me the yellow dress you wear every day, and let me go to the ball and have a peep at the beautiful princess.”
“What! lend my yellow gown to a cinder-maid! I am not so silly as that.”
Cinderella was not sorry to have Javotte say no; she would have been puzzled to know what to do if her sister had really lent her the dress she begged for.
The next night came, and the sisters again went to the court ball. After they had gone, the fairy came as before and made Cinderella ready.
“Now remember,” she said, as the coach drove away, “remember twelve o’clock.”
Cinderella was even more splendid than on the first night, and the king’s son never left her side He said so many pretty things that Cinderella could think of nothing else. She forgot the fairy’s warning; she forgot her promise. Eleven o’clock came, but she did not notice the striking. The half-hour struck, but the prince grew more charming, and Cinderella could hear nothing but his voice. The last quarter—but still Cinderella sat by the prince.
Then the great clock on the tower struck the first stroke of twelve. Up sprang Cinderella, and fled from the room. The prince started to follow her, but she was too swift for him; in her flight, one of her glass slippers fell from her feet, and he stopped to pick it up.
The last stroke of twelve died away, as Cinderella darted down the steps of the palace. In a twinkling the gay lady was gone; only a shabby cinder-maid was running down the steps. The splendid coach and six, driver and footman,—all were gone; only a pumpkin lay on the ground, and a rat, six mice, and six lizards scampered off.
Cinderella reached home, quite out of breath. She had saved nothing of all her finery but one little glass slipper. The prince had its mate, but he had lost the princess. He asked the soldiers at the palace gate if they had not seen her drive away. No; at that hour only a ragged girl had passed out.
Soon the two sisters came home from the ball, and Cinderella asked them if they had again seen the beautiful lady. Yes; she had been at the ball, but she had left suddenly, and no one knew what had become of her. But the prince would surely find her, for he had one of her glass slippers.
They spoke truly. A few days afterward, the king’s son sent a messenger with a trumpet and the slipper through all the city. The messenger sounded his trumpet and shouted that the prince would marry the lady who could wear the glass slipper. So the slipper was first tried on by all the princesses; then by all the duchesses; next by all the persons belonging to the court; but in vain: not one could wear it.
Then it was carried to all the fine houses, and it came at last to the two sisters. They tried with all their might to force a foot into the fairy slipper, but they could not. Cinderella stood by, and said:—
“Suppose I were to try.” Her two sisters jeered at her, but the messenger looked at Cinderella. He saw that she was very fair, and, besides, he had orders to try the slipper on the foot of every maiden in the kingdom, if need were.
So he bade Cinderella sit down on a three-legged stool in the kitchen. She put out her little foot, and the slipper fitted like wax. The sisters stood in amaze. Then Cinderella put her hand into her pocket and drew forth the other glass slipper, and put it on her other foot.
Original
The moment that Cinderella did this, the fairy, who stood by unseen, touched her with her wand, and the cinder-maid again became the beautiful, gayly dressed lady. The sisters saw that she was the same one whom they had seen at the ball. They thought how ill they had treated her all these years, and they fell at her feet and asked her to forgive them.
Cinderella was as good now as she had been when she was a cinder-maid. She freely forgave her sisters, and took them to the palace with her, for she was now to be the prince’s wife. And when the old king and queen died, the prince and Cinderella became King and Queen.
THE WOLF IN SHEEP’S CLOTHING
Original
A Wolf once dressed himself in the skin of a Sheep, and so got in among the flock, where he killed a good many of them. At last the Shepherd found him out, and hanged him upon a tree as a warning to other wolves.
Some Shepherds going by saw the wolf, and thought it was a Sheep. They wondered why the Shepherd should hang a Sheep. So they asked him, and he answered: “I hang a Wolf when I catch him, even though he be dressed in a Sheep’s clothes.”
THE ARAB AND HIS CAMEL
One cold night, as an Arab sat in his tent, a Camel thrust the flap of the tent aside, and looked in.
“I pray thee, master,” he said, “let me put my head within the tent, for it is cold without.”
“By all means, and welcome,” said the Arab; and the Camel stretched his head into the tent.
“If I might but warm my neck, also,” he said, presently.
“Put your neck inside,” said the Arab. Soon the Camel, who had been turning his head from side to side, said again:—
“It will take but little more room if I put my fore legs within the tent. It is difficult standing without.”
“You may also put your fore legs within,” said the Arab, moving a little to make room, for the tent was very small.
“May I not stand wholly within?” asked the Camel, finally. “I keep the tent open by standing as I do.”
“Yes, yes,” said the Arab. “I will have pity on you as well as on myself. Come wholly inside.”
So the Camel came forward and crowded into the tent. But the tent was too small for both.
“I think,” said the Camel, “that there is not room for both of us here. It will be best for you to stand outside, as you are the smaller; there will then be room enough for me.”
And with that he pushed the Arab a little, who made haste to get outside of the tent.
It is a wise rule to resist the beginnings of evil.
TOM THUMB
I. TOM IS SOLD FOR A BARGAIN
A poor woodman once sat by the fire in his cottage, and his wife sat by his side, spinning.
“How lonely it is,” said he, “for you and me to sit here by ourselves without any children to play about and amuse us.”
“What you say is very true,” said his wife, as she turned her wheel. “How happy should I be, if I had but one child. If it were ever so small, if it were no bigger than my thumb, I should be very happy and love it dearly.”
Now it came to pass that the good woman had her wish, for some time afterward she had a little boy who was healthy and strong, but not much bigger than her thumb. So they said:—
“Well, we cannot say we have not got what we wished for, and, little as he is, we will love him dearly!” and they called him Tom Thumb. They gave him plenty to eat, yet he never grew bigger. Still his eyes were sharp and sparkling, and he soon showed himself to be a bright little fellow, who always knew what he was about.
One day the woodman was getting ready to go into the wood to cut fuel, and he said:—
“I wish I had some one to bring the cart after me, for I want to make haste.”
“O father,” cried Tom, “I will take care of that. The cart shall be in the wood by the time you want it.” The woodman laughed and said:
“How can that be? You cannot reach up to the horse’s bridle.”
“Never mind that, father. If my mother will only harness the horse, I will get into his ear, and tell him which way to go.”
“Well,” said the father, “we will try for once.”
When the time came, the mother harnessed the horse to the cart, and put Tom into his ear. There the little man sat and told the beast how to go, crying out, “Go on,” and “Stop,” as he wanted. So the horse went on just as if the woodman were driving it himself.
It happened that the horse fell to trotting too fast, and Tom called out, “Gently, gently.” Just then two strangers came up.
“How odd it is,” one of them said. “There is a cart going along, and I hear a carter talking to the horse, but I see no one.”
“That is strange,” said the other. “Let us follow the cart and see where it goes.” They went on into the wood, and came at last to the place where the woodman was. The cart drove up and Tom said:—
“See, father, here I am with the cart, safe and sound. Now, take me down.”
So his father took hold of the horse with one hand, and lifted his son down with the other. He put him on a little stick, where he was as merry as you please. The two strangers looked on and saw it all, and did not know what to say for wonder. At last one took the other aside and said:—
“That little chap will make our fortune if we can get him, and carry him about from town to town as a show. We must buy him.” Then they went to the woodman and asked him what he would take for the little man. “He will be better off with us than with you,” they said.
“I’ll not sell him at all,” said the father. “My own flesh and blood is dearer to me than all the silver and gold in the world.”
But Tom heard what was said, and crept up his father’s coat to his shoulder, and spoke in his ear:—
“Take the money, father, and let them have me. I’ll soon come back to you.” So the woodman at last agreed to sell Tom Thumb to the strangers for a large piece of gold.
“Where do you like to sit?” one of them asked Tom.
“Oh, put me on the rim of your hat; that will be a nice place for me. I can walk about there and see the country as we go along.”
They did as he wished. Tom took leave of his father, and went off with the two strangers. They kept on their way till it began to grow dark. Then Tom said:—
“Let me get down, I am tired.” So the man took off his hat, and set him down on a lump of earth in a ploughed field, by the side of the road. But Tom ran about among the furrows, and at last slipped into an old mouse-hole.
“Good-night, masters. I’m off,” said he.
“Look sharp after me next time.” They ran to the place and poked the ends of their sticks into the mouse-hole, but all in vain. Tom crawled farther in. They could not get him, and as it was now quite dark they went away very cross.
II. HOW TOM FRIGHTENED THE THIEVES
When Tom found they were gone, he crept out of his hiding-place.
“How dangerous it is,” said he, “to walk about in this ploughed field. If I were to fall from one of those big lumps I should surely break my neck.” At last, he found a large, empty snail-shell.
Original
“This is lucky,” said he. “I can sleep here very well,” and in he crept. Just as he was falling asleep he heard two men pass by, and one said to the other:—
“How shall we manage to steal that rich farmer’s silver and gold?”
“I’ll tell you!” cried Tom.
“What noise was that? I am sure I heard some one speak,” said the thief. He was in a great fright. They both stood listening, and Tom spoke up:—
“Take me with you, and I will show you how to get the farmer’s money.”
“But where are you?”
“Look about on the ground, and listen where the sound comes from.”
“What a little chap! What can you do for us?”
“Why, I can get between the iron window bars, and throw you out whatever you want.”
“That is a good thought. Come along; we will see what you can do.”
When they came to the farmer’s house, Tom slipped through the bars into the room, and then called out as loud as he could:—
“Will you have all that is here?”
“Softly, softly!” said the thieves. “Speak low, or you will wake somebody.”
Tom made as if he did not understand them, and bawled out again:—
“How much will you have? Shall I throw it all out?”
Now the cook lay in the next room, and hearing a noise, she raised herself in her bed and listened. But the thieves had been thrown into a fright and had run away. By and by they plucked up courage, and said:—
“That little fellow is only trying to make fools of us.” So they came back and spoke low to him, saying: “Now let us have no more of your jokes, but throw out some of the money.” Then Tom called out again as loud as he could:—
“Very well! Hold your hands; here it comes.”
The cook heard this plainly; she sprang out of bed, and ran to open the door. The thieves were off as if a wolf were after them, and the cook could see nothing in the dark. So she went back for a light, and while she was gone, Tom slipped off into the barn.
The cook looked about and searched every hole and corner, but found nobody; she went back to bed, and thought she must have been dreaming with her eyes open. Tom crawled about in the hayloft, and at last found a good place to rest in. He meant to sleep till daylight, and then find his way home to his father and mother.
III. INSIDE A COW
Poor Tom Thumb! his troubles were only begun. The cook got up early to feed the cows. She went straight to the hayloft, and carried away a large bundle of hay, with the little man in the middle of it fast asleep. He slept on, and did not wake till he found himself in the mouth of a cow. She had taken him up with a mouthful of hay.
“Dear me,” said he, “how did I manage to tumble into the mill?” But he soon found out where he was, and he had to keep all his wits about him, or he would have fallen between the cow’s teeth, and then he would have been crushed to death. At last he went down into her stomach.
“It is rather dark here,” said he; “they forgot to build windows in this room to let the sun in.” He made the best of his bad luck, but he did not like his resting-place at all. The worst of it was, that more and more hay was coming down, and there was less and less room to turn round in. At last he cried out as loud as he could:—
“Don’t bring me any more hay! don’t bring me any more hay!” The cook just then was milking the cow. She heard some one speak, but she saw nobody. Yet she was sure it was the same voice she had heard in the night. It put her into such a fright that she fell off her stool and upset her milk-pail. She ran off as fast as she could to the farmer, and said:—
“Sir, sir, the cow is talking.” But the farmer said:—
“Woman, thou art surely mad.” Still, he went with her into the cow-house, to see what was the matter. Just as they went in, Tom cried out again:—
“Don’t bring me any more hay! don’t bring me any more hay!” Then the farmer was in a fright. He was sure the cow must be mad, so he gave orders to have her killed at once. The cow was killed, and the stomach with Tom in it was thrown into the barnyard.
IV. SAFE AT HOME AGAIN
Tom soon set himself to work to get out, and that was not a very easy task. A hungry wolf was prowling about. Just as Tom had made room to get his head out the wolf seized the stomach and swallowed it. Off he ran, but Tom was not cast down. He began to chat with the wolf, and called out:—
“My good friend, I can show you a famous treat.”
“Where is that?”
“In the house near the wood. You can crawl through the drain into the kitchen, and there you will find cakes, ham, beef, and everything that is nice.” This was the house where Tom Thumb lived. The wolf did not need to be asked twice. That very night he went to the house and crawled through the drain into the kitchen. There he ate and drank to his heart’s content.
After a while he had eaten so much that he was ready to go away. But now he could not squeeze through the drain. This was just what Tom had thought of, and the little chap set up a great shout.
“Will you be quiet?” said the wolf. “You will wake everybody in the house.”
“What is that to me?” said the little man. “You have had your frolic; now I have a mind to be merry myself.” And he began again to sing and shout as loud as he could.
The woodman and his wife were awakened by the noise, and peeped through a crack into the kitchen. When they saw a wolf there, they were in a great fright. The woodman ran for his axe, and gave his wife a scythe.
“You stay behind,” said the woodman.
“When I have knocked the wolf on the head, you run at him with the scythe.” Tom heard all this, and said:—
“Father! father! I am here. The wolf has swallowed me.”
“Heaven be praised!” said the woodman. “We have found our dear child again. Do not use the scythe, wife, for you may hurt him.” Then he aimed a great blow, and struck the wolf on the head, and killed him at once. They opened him, and set Tom Thumb free.
“Ah!” said his father, “what fears we have had for you!”
“Yes, father,” he answered. “I have traveled all over the world since we parted, and now I am very glad to get fresh air again.”
“Where have you been?”
“I have been in a mouse-hole, in a snail-shell, down a cow’s throat, and inside the wolf, and yet here I am again, safe and sound.”
“Well, well,” said his father. “We will not sell you again for all the riches in the world.”
So they hugged and kissed their dear little son, and gave him plenty to eat and drink. And they bought him new clothes, for his old ones had been quite spoiled on his journey.
THE TORTOISE AND THE HARE
Original
A Hare once made fun of a Tortoise.
“What a slow way you have!” he said. “How you creep along!”
“Do I?” said the Tortoise. “Try a race with me, and I will beat you.”
“You only say that for fun,” said the Hare. “But come! I will race with you. Who will mark off the bounds, and give the prize?”
“Let us ask the Fox,” said the Tortoise.
The Fox was very wise and fair. He showed them where they were to start, and how far they were to run.
The Tortoise lost no time. She started at once, and jogged straight on.
The Hare knew he could come to the end in two or three jumps. So he lay down and took a nap first. By and by he awoke, and then ran fast. But when he came to the end, the Tortoise was already there!
THE COUNTRY MOUSE AND THE TOWN MOUSE
Original
A Country Mouse had a friend who lived in a house in town. Now the Town Mouse was invited by the Country Mouse to take dinner with him. Out he went, and sat down to a dinner of barley and wheat.
“Do you know, my friend,” said he, “that you live a mere ant’s life out here? Now, I have plenty at home. Come and enjoy the good things there with me.”
So the two set off for town. There the Town Mouse showed the other his beans and meal, his dates, his cheese and fruit and honey.
As the Country Mouse ate, drank, and was merry, he praised his friend and bewailed his own poor lot.
But while they were urging each other to eat heartily, a man suddenly opened the door. Frightened by the noise, they crept into a crack. By and by, when he had gone, they came out and tasted of some dried figs. In came another person to get something that was in the room. When they caught sight of him, they ran and hid in a hole.
At that the Country Mouse forgot his hunger, and with a sigh, said to the other:—
“Please yourself, my good friend; eat all you want and get rich,—and be in a fright the whole time. As for me, I am a poor fellow, I know, who have only barley and wheat. But I am content to live on those, and have nothing to frighten me.”
Those who have the plain things of life are often better off than the rich.
THE GNAT AND THE BULL
A Gnat once lit on a Bull’s horn, and stayed there a long while.
When he was about to fly away, he asked the Bull if he would like to have him go now.
“Why,” said the Bull, “I did not know you were there.”
People often think themselves important when, in truth, no one is noticing them.
THE SLEEPING BEAUTY IN THE WOOD
I. THE BEAUTY GOES TO SLEEP
Once upon a time there lived a king and queen who grieved that they had no child. But at last a daughter was born, and the king was very happy. He gave a great feast, and asked to it all the fairies in the land, seven in all. He hoped that each would give the child a gift.
In front of each fairy at the table was set a heavy gold plate, and by each plate a gold knife and fork. Just as they sat down to the feast, in came an old fairy who had not been invited. No one knew she was living. Fifty years before she had shut herself up in a tower, and had not been seen since.
The king hurried off to find a gold plate and knife and fork for her also. But nothing could be found so fine as the seven plates which had been made for the seven fairies. The old fairy thought herself ill-used and grumbled in a low voice. At that, one of the young fairies feared she meant mischief to the child, and so, when the feast was over, hid herself behind the hangings in the hall. We shall soon see why she did this.
The fairies now began to give gifts to the child, beginning with the youngest. She gave her beauty; the next gave her wit; the third gave her grace; the fourth said she should dance perfectly; the fifth gave her a voice to sing; the sixth said she should play beautifully on the harp.
The turn of the old fairy had now come. She shook her head wickedly and said the child would grow up, but when she was grown, she would pierce her hand, when spinning, and die of the wound. At this, all the company began to weep. But the fairy who had hidden came forward and said:—
“Be of good cheer, king and queen. Your daughter shall not so die. I cannot entirely undo what my elder has done. The princess must pierce her hand when spinning, but instead of dying she shall fall into a deep sleep. The sleep shall last a hundred years. At the end of that time a king’s son will come to wake her.”
The king was very sad, but he hoped he might prevent the evil. So he made a law that no one in the kingdom should spin or have a spinning wheel in the house, under pain of instant death.
All went well for fifteen years. Then it chanced that the princess was with the king and queen in one of their castles, and was spying about for herself. She came to a little chamber at the top of a tower, and there sat an honest old woman spinning. She was very old and deaf, and had never heard of the king’s command.
“What are you doing?” asked the princess.
“I’m spinning, my pretty child.”
“How charming it is!” said the princess. “How do you do it? Let me try if I can spin.” She seized the spindle, but she was hasty and careless, and pierced her hand with its point. She fainted, and the old woman, in great alarm, ran for help. People came running from all sides, but they could not rouse her.
The king heard the noise and came also. Then he saw that the cruel fairy had had her wish. His daughter would not wake for a hundred years. He laid her on the bed in the best room, and stood sadly looking upon her. She was asleep. He could hear her breathe. Her cheeks were full of color, but her eyes were closed.
Now the good fairy, who had said the princess should wake in a hundred years, was thousands of miles away at the time. But she knew of it, and came at once in a chariot of fire drawn by dragons. The king came to meet her, his eyes red with weeping.
The good fairy was very wise and saw that the princess would not know what to do if she awoke all alone in the castle, in a hundred years. So this is what she did.
She touched with her wand every one in the castle except the king and the queen. She touched the maids of honor, the gentlemen, the officers, the stewards, cooks, boys, guards, porters, pages, footmen. She touched the horses in the stable, the grooms, the great mastiff in the court-yard, and the tiny lapdog of the princess that was on the bed beside her.
The moment she touched them, they all fell asleep just as they were, not to wake again until the time came for their mistress to do so. Then they all would be ready to wait on her. Even the fire went to sleep, and the roasting-spit before the fire with its fowls ready for roasting.
It was the work of a moment. The king and queen kissed their daughter good-by and left the castle. The king sent forth a command that no one was to go near the castle. That was needless. In a quarter of an hour, a wood had grown about it so thick and thorny that nothing could get through it. The castle-top itself could only be seen from afar.
II. THE BEAUTY WAKES
After a few years the king and the queen died. They had no other child, and the kingdom passed into the hands of a distant family. A hundred years went by. The son of the king who was then reigning was out hunting one day, when he noticed the tower of a castle in the distance. He asked what castle it was.
All manner of answers were given to him. One said It was a fairy castle; another said that a great monster lived there. At last an old man said:—
“Prince, more than fifty years ago I heard my father say that there was in that castle the most beautiful princess ever seen. She was to sleep for a hundred years, and was to be waked at last by the king’s son, who was to marry her.”
The young prince at these words felt himself on fire. He had not a doubt that he was the one to awaken the princess. He set out at once for the wood, and when he drew near, the trees and thorns opened to offer him a path.
He was on a long, straight road, and at the end was the castle in full view. He turned to look for his comrades. Not one was to be seen. The wood had closed again behind him. He was alone, and all was still about him. Forward he went and came to the castle-gate. He entered the court-yard, and stood still in amazement.
On every side were the bodies of men and animals. But the faces of the men were rosy; it was plain that they were asleep. His steps sounded on the marble floor. He entered the guard-room. There the guards stood drawn up in line, with their spears in their hands, but they did not move. They were fast asleep.
He passed through one room after another; people were asleep in chairs, on benches, standing, sitting, lying down. He entered a beautiful room, covered with gold, and saw the most wonderful sight of all.
There lay a maiden so fair that she seemed to belong to another world. He drew near and knelt beside her. She did not stir. Her hand lay on her breast, and he touched his lips to it.
As he did this, her eyes opened and looked at the young man. She smiled, and said:—
“Have you come, my prince? I have waited long for you.”
The prince hardly knew how to answer. But he soon found his voice, and they talked for hours, and then had not said half that was in their heads to say.