Fairy Tales Every Child Should Know by Various

V >> Various >> Fairy Tales Every Child Should Know

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23

Now it happened that the stepmother of Snow-white was invited, among
other guests, to the wedding-feast. Before she left her house she stood
in all her rich dress before the magic mirror to admire her own
appearance, but she could not help saying;

"Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Am I most beautiful of all?"

Then to her surprise the mirror replied:

"Fair queen, thou art the fairest here,
But at the palace, now,
The bride will prove a thousand times
More beautiful than thou."

Then the wicked woman uttered a curse, and was so dreadfully alarmed
that she knew not what to do. At first she declared she would not go to
this wedding at all, but she felt it impossible to rest until she had
seen the bride, so she determined to go. But what was her astonishment
and vexation when she recognised in the young bride Snow-white herself,
now grown a charming young woman, and richly dressed in royal robes! Her
rage and terror were so great that she stood still and could not move
for some minutes. At last she went into the ballroom, but the slippers
she wore were to her as iron bands full of coals of fire, in which she
was obliged to dance. And so in the red, glowing shoes she continued to
dance till she fell dead on the floor, a sad example of envy and
jealousy.

CHAPTER III

THE ENCHANTED STAG

There were once a brother and sister who loved each other dearly; their
mother was dead, and their father had married again a woman who was most
unkind and cruel to them. One day the boy took his sister's hand, and
said to her, "Dear little sister, since our mother died we have not had
one happy hour. Our stepmother gives us dry hard crusts for dinner and
supper; she often knocks us about, and threatens to kick us out of the
house. Even the little dogs under the table fare better than we do, for
she often throws them nice pieces to eat. Heaven pity us! Oh, if our
dear mother knew! Come, let us go out into the wide world!"

So they went out, and wandered over fields and meadows the whole day
till evening. At last they found themselves in a large forest; it began
to rain, and the little sister said, "See, brother, heaven and our
hearts weep together." At last, tired out with hunger and sorrow, and
the long journey, they crept into a hollow tree, laid themselves down,
and slept till morning.

When they awoke the sun was high in the heavens, and shone brightly into
the hollow tree, so they left their place of shelter and wandered away
in search of water.

"Oh, I am so thirsty!" said the boy. "If we could only find a brook or a
stream." He stopped to listen, and said, "Stay, I think I hear a running
stream." So he took his sister by the hand, and they ran together to
find it.

Now, the stepmother of these poor children was a wicked witch. She had
seen the children go away, and, following them cautiously like a snake,
had bewitched all the springs and streams in the forest. The pleasant
trickling of a brook over the pebbles was heard by the children as they
reached it, and the boy was just stooping to drink, when the sister
heard in the babbling of the brook:

"Whoever drinks of me, a tiger soon will be."

Then she cried quickly, "Stay, brother, stay! do not drink, or you will
become a wild beast, and tear me to pieces."

Thirsty as he was, the brother conquered his desire to drink at her
words, and said, "Dear sister, I will wait till we come to a spring." So
they wandered farther, but as they approached, she heard in the bubbling
spring the words--

"Who drinks of me, a wolf will be."

"Brother, I pray you, do not drink of this brook; you will be changed
into a wolf, and devour me."

Again the brother denied himself and promised to wait; but he said, "At
the next stream I must drink, say what you will, my thirst is so great."

Not far off ran a pretty streamlet, looking clear and bright; but here
also in its murmuring waters, the sister heard the words--

"Who dares to drink of me,
Turned to a stag will be."

"Dear brother, do not drink," she began; but she was too late, for her
brother had already knelt by the stream to drink, and as the first drop
of water touched his lips he became a fawn. How the little sister wept
over the enchanted brother, and the fawn wept also.

He did not run away, but stayed close to her; and at last she said,
"Stand still, dear fawn; don't fear, I must take care of you, but I will
never leave you." So she untied her little golden garter and fastened it
round the neck of the fawn; then she gathered some soft green rushes,
and braided them into a soft string, which she fastened to the fawn's
golden collar, and then led him away into the depths of the forest.

After wandering about for some time, they at last found a little
deserted hut, and the sister was overjoyed, for she thought it would
form a nice shelter for them both. So she led the fawn in, and then went
out alone, to gather moss and dried leaves, to make him a soft bed.

Every morning she went out to gather dried roots, nuts, and berries, for
her own food, and sweet fresh grass for the fawn, which he ate out of
her hand, and the poor little animal went out with her, and played about
as happy as the day was long.

When evening came, and the poor sister felt tired, she would kneel down
and say her prayers, and then lay her delicate head on the fawn's back,
which was a soft warm pillow, on which she could sleep peacefully. Had
this dear brother only kept his own proper form, how happy they would
have been together! After they had been alone in the forest for some
time, and the little sister had grown a lovely maiden, and the fawn a
large stag, a numerous hunting party came to the forest, and amongst
them the king of the country.

The sounding horn, the barking of the dogs, the holloa of the huntsmen,
resounded through the forest, and were heard by the stag, who became
eager to join his companions.

"Oh dear," he said, "do let me go and see the hunt; I cannot restrain
myself." And he begged so hard that at last she reluctantly consented.

"But remember," she said, "I must lock the cottage door against those
huntsmen, so when you come back in the evening, and knock, I shall not
admit you, unless you say, 'Dear little sister let me in.'"

He bounded off as she spoke, scarcely stopping to listen, for it was so
delightful for him to breathe the fresh air and be free again.

He had not run far when the king's chief hunter caught sight of the
beautiful animal, and started off in chase of him; but it was no easy
matter to overtake such rapid footsteps. Once, when he thought he had
him safe, the fawn sprang over the bushes and disappeared.

As it was now nearly dark, he ran up to the little cottage, knocked at
the door, and cried, "Dear little sister, let me in." The door was
instantly opened, and oh, how glad his sister was to see him safely
resting on his soft pleasant bed!

A few days after this, the huntsmen were again in the forest; and when
the fawn heard the holloa, he could not rest in peace, but begged his
sister again to let him go.

She opened the door, and said, "I will let you go this time; but pray do
not forget to say what I told you, when you return this evening."

The chief hunter very soon espied the beautiful fawn with the golden
collar, pointed it out to the king, and they determined to hunt it.

They chased him with all their skill till the evening; but he was too
light and nimble for them to catch, till a shot wounded him slightly in
the foot, so that he was obliged to hide himself in the bushes, and,
after the huntsmen were gone, limp slowly home.

One of them, however, determined to follow him at a distance, and
discover where he went. What was his surprise at seeing him go up to a
door and knock, and to hear him say, "Dear little sister, let me in."
The door was only opened a little way, and quickly shut; but the
huntsman had seen enough to make him full of wonder, when he returned
and described to the king what he had seen.

"We will have one more chase to-morrow," said the king, "and discover
this mystery."

In the meantime the loving sister was terribly alarmed at finding the
stag's foot wounded and bleeding. She quickly washed off the blood, and,
after bathing the wound, placed healing herbs on it, and said, "Lie down
on your bed, dear fawn, and the wound will soon heal, if you rest your
foot."

In the morning the wound was so much better that the fawn felt the foot
almost as strong as ever, and so, when he again heard the holloa of the
hunters, he could not rest. "Oh, dear sister, I must go once more; it
will be easy for me to avoid the hunters now, and my foot feels quite
well; they will not hunt me unless they see me running, and I don't mean
to do that."

But his sister wept, and begged him not to go: "If they kill you, dear
fawn, I shall be here alone in the forest, forsaken by the whole world."

"And I shall die of grief," he said, "if I remain here listening to the
hunter's horn."

So at length his sister, with a heavy heart, set him free, and he
bounded away joyfully into the forest.

As soon as the king caught sight of him, he said to the huntsmen,
"Follow that stag about, but don't hurt him." So they hunted him all
day, but at the approach of sunset the king said to the hunter who had
followed the fawn the day before, "Come and show me the little cottage."

So they went together, and when the king saw it he sent his companion
home, and went on alone so quickly that he arrived there before the
fawn; and, going up to the little door, knocked and said softly, "Dear
little sister, let me in."

As the door opened, the king stepped in, and in great astonishment saw a
maiden more beautiful than he had ever seen in his life standing before
him. But how frightened she felt to see instead of her dear little fawn
a noble gentleman walk in with a gold crown on his head.

However, he appeared very friendly, and after a little talk he held out
his hand to her, and said, "Wilt thou go with me to my castle and be my
dear wife?"

"Ah yes," replied the maiden, "I would willingly; but I cannot leave my
dear fawn: he must go with me wherever I am."

"He shall remain with you as long as you live," replied the king, "and I
will never ask you to forsake him."

While they were talking, the fawn came bounding in, looking quite well
and happy. Then his sister fastened the string of rushes to his collar,
took it in her hand, and led him away from the cottage in the wood to
where the king's beautiful horse waited for him.

The king placed the maiden before him on his horse and rode away to his
castle, the fawn following by their side. Soon after, their marriage was
celebrated with great splendour, and the fawn was taken the greatest
care of, and played where he pleased, or roamed about the castle grounds
in happiness and safety.

In the meantime the wicked stepmother, who had caused these two young
people such misery, supposed that the sister had been devoured by wild
beasts, and that the fawn had been hunted to death. Therefore when she
heard of their happiness, such envy and malice arose in her heart that
she could find no rest till she had tried to destroy it.

She and her ugly daughter came to the castle when the queen had a little
baby, and one of them pretended to be a nurse, and at last got the
mother and child into their power.

They shut the queen up in the bath, and tried to suffocate her, and the
old woman put her own ugly daughter in the queen's bed that the king
might not know she was away.

She would not, however, let him speak to her, but pretended that she
must be kept quite quiet.

The queen escaped from the bath-room, where the wicked old woman had
locked her up, but she did not go far, as she wanted to watch over her
child and the little fawn.

For two nights the baby's nurse saw a figure of the queen come into the
room and take up her baby and nurse it. Then she told the king, and he
determined to watch himself. The old stepmother, who acted as nurse to
her ugly daughter, whom she tried to make the king believe was his wife,
had said that the queen was too weak to see him, and never left her
room. "There cannot be two queens," said the king to himself, "so
to-night I will watch in the nursery." As soon as the figure came in and
took up her baby, he saw it was his real wife, and caught her in his
arms, saying, "You are my own beloved wife, as beautiful as ever."

The wicked witch had thrown her into a trance, hoping she would die, and
that the king would then marry her daughter; but on the king speaking to
her, the spell was broken. The queen told the king how cruelly she had
been treated by her stepmother, and on hearing this he became very
angry, and had the witch and her daughter brought to justice. They were
both sentenced to die--the daughter to be devoured by wild beasts, and
the mother to be burnt alive.

No sooner, however, was she reduced to ashes than the charm which held
the queen's brother in the form of a stag was broken; he recovered his
own natural shape, and appeared before them a tall, handsome young man.

After this, the brother and sister lived happily and peacefully for the
rest of their lives.

CHAPTER IV

HANSEL AND GRETHEL

Near the borders of a large forest dwelt in olden times a poor
wood-cutter, who had two children--a boy named Hansel, and his sister,
Grethel. They had very little to live upon, and once when there was a
dreadful season of scarcity in the land, the poor wood-cutter could not
earn sufficient to supply their daily food.

One evening, after the children were gone to bed, the parents sat
talking together over their sorrow, and the poor husband sighed, and
said to his wife, who was not the mother of his children, but their
stepmother, "What will become of us, for I cannot earn enough to support
myself and you, much less the children? what shall we do with them, for
they must not starve?"

"I know what to do, husband," she replied; "early to-morrow morning we
will take the children for a walk across the forest and leave them in
the thickest part; they will never find the way home again, you may
depend, and then we shall only have to work for ourselves."

"No, wife," said the man, "that I will never do. How could I have the
heart to leave my children all alone in the wood, where the wild beasts
would come quickly and devour them?"

"Oh, you fool," replied the stepmother, "if you refuse to do this, you
know we must all four perish with hunger; you may as well go and cut the
wood for our coffins." And after this she let him have no peace till he
became quite worn out, and could not sleep for hours, but lay thinking
in sorrow about his children.

The two children, who also were too hungry to sleep, heard all that
their stepmother had said to their father. Poor little Grethel wept
bitter tears as she listened, and said to her brother, "What is going to
happen to us, Hansel?"

"Hush, Grethel," he whispered, "don't be so unhappy; I know what to do."

Then they lay quite still till their parents were asleep.

As soon as it was quiet, Hansel got up, put on his little coat,
unfastened the door, and slipped out The moon shone brightly, and the
white pebble stones which lay before the cottage door glistened like new
silver money. Hansel stooped and picked up as many of the pebbles as he
could stuff in his little coat pockets. He then went back to Grethel and
said, "Be comforted, dear little sister, and sleep in peace; heaven will
take care of us." Then he laid himself down again in bed, and slept till
the day broke.

As soon as the sun was risen, the stepmother came and woke the two
children, and said, "Get up, you lazy bones, and come into the wood with
me to gather wood for the fire." Then she gave each of them a piece of
bread, and said, "You must keep that to eat for your dinner, and don't
quarrel over it, for you will get nothing more."

Grethel took the bread under her charge, for Hansel's pockets were full
of pebbles. Then the stepmother led them a long way into the forest.
They had gone but a very short distance when Hansel looked back at the
house, and this he did again and again.

At last his stepmother said, "Why do you keep staying behind and looking
back so?"

"Oh, mother," said the boy, "I can see my little white cat sitting on
the roof of the house, and I am sure she is crying for me."

"Nonsense," she replied; "that is not your cat; it is the morning sun
shining on the chimney-pot."

Hansel had seen no cat, but he stayed behind every time to drop a white
pebble from his pocket on the ground as they walked.

As soon as they reached a thick part of the wood, their stepmother said:

"Come, children, gather some wood, and I will make a fire, for it is
very cold here."

Then Hansel and Grethel raised quite a high heap of brushwood and
faggots, which soon blazed up into a bright fire, and the woman said to
them:

"Sit down here, children, and rest, while I go and find your father, who
is cutting wood in the forest; when we have finished our work, we will
come again and fetch you."

Hansel and Grethel seated themselves by the fire, and when noon arrived
they each ate the piece of bread which their stepmother had given them
for their dinner; and as long as they heard the strokes of the axe they
felt safe, for they believed that their father was working near them.
But it was not an axe they heard--only a branch which still hung on a
withered tree, and was moved up and down by the wind. At last, when they
had been sitting there a long time, the children's eyes became heavy
with fatigue, and they fell fast asleep. When they awoke it was dark
night, and poor Grethel began to cry, and said, "Oh, how shall we get
out of the wood?"

But Hansel comforted her. "Don't fear," he said; "let us wait a little
while till the moon rises, and then we shall easily find our way home."

Very soon the full moon rose, and then Hansel took his little sister by
the hand, and the white pebble stones, which glittered like newly-coined
money in the moonlight, and which Hansel had dropped as he walked,
pointed out the way. They walked all the night through, and did not
reach their father's house till break of day.

They knocked at the door, and when their stepmother opened it, she
exclaimed: "You naughty children, why have you been staying so long in
the forest? we thought you were never coming back," But their father was
overjoyed to see them, for it grieved him to the heart to think that
they had been left alone in the wood.

Not long after this there came another time of scarcity and want in
every house, and the children heard their stepmother talking after they
were in bed. "The times are as bad as ever," she said; "we have just
half a loaf left, and when that is gone all love will be at an end. The
children must go away; we will take them deeper into the forest this
time, and they will not be able to find their way home as they did
before; it is the only plan to save ourselves from starvation." But the
husband felt heavy at heart, for he thought it was better to share the
last morsel with his children.

His wife would listen to nothing he said, but continued to reproach him,
and as he had given way to her the first time, he could not refuse to do
so now. The children were awake, and heard all the conversation; so, as
soon as their parents slept, Hansel got up, intending to go out and
gather some more of the bright pebbles to let fall as he walked, that
they might point out the way home; but his stepmother had locked the
door, and he could not open it. When he went back to his bed he told his
little sister not to fret, but to go to sleep in peace, for he was sure
they would be taken care of.

Early the next morning the stepmother came and pulled the children out
of bed, and, when they were dressed, gave them each a piece of bread for
their dinners, smaller than they had had before, and then they started
on their way to the wood.

As they walked, Hansel, who had the bread in his pocket, broke off
little crumbs, and stopped every now and then to drop one, turning round
as if he was looking back at his home.

"Hansel," said the woman, "what are you stopping for in that way? Come
along directly."

"I saw my pigeon sitting on the roof, and he wants to say good-bye to
me," replied the boy.

"Nonsense," she said; "that is not your pigeon; it is only the morning
sun shining on the chimney-top."

But Hansel did not look back any more; he only dropped pieces of bread
behind him, as they walked through the wood. This time they went on till
they reached the thickest and densest part of the forest, where they had
never been before in all their lives. Again they gathered faggots and
brushwood, of which the stepmother made up a large fire. Then she said,
"Remain here, children, and rest, while I go to help your father, who is
cutting wood in the forest; when you feel tired, you can lie down and
sleep for a little while, and we will come and fetch you in the evening,
when your father has finished his work."

So the children remained alone till mid-day, and then Grethel shared her
piece of bread with Hansel, for he had scattered his own all along the
road as they walked. After this they slept for awhile, and the evening
drew on; but no one came to fetch the poor children. When they awoke it
was quite dark, and poor little Grethel was afraid; but Hansel comforted
her, as he had done before, by telling her they need only wait till the
moon rose. "You know, little sister," he said, "that I have thrown
breadcrumbs all along the road we came, and they will easily point out
the way home."

But when they went out of the thicket into the moonlight they found no
breadcrumbs, for the numerous birds which inhabited the trees of the
forest had picked them all up.

Hansel tried to hide his fear when he made this sad discovery, and said
to his sister, "Cheer up, Grethel; I dare say we shall find our way home
without the crumbs. Let us try." But this they found impossible. They
wandered about the whole night, and the next day from morning till
evening; but they could not get out of the wood, and were so hungry that
had it not been for a few berries which they picked they must have
starved.

At last they were so tired that their poor little legs could carry them
no farther; so they laid themselves down under a tree and went to sleep.
When they awoke it was the third morning since they had left their
father's house, and they determined to try once more to find their way
home; but it was no use, they only went still deeper into the wood, and
knew that if no help came they must starve.

About noon, they saw a beautiful snow-white bird sitting on the branch
of a tree, and singing so beautifully that they stood still to listen.
When he had finished his song, he spread out his wings and flew on
before them. The children followed him, till at last they saw at a
distance a small house; and the bird flew and perched on the roof.

But how surprised were the boy and girl, when they came nearer, to find
that the house was built of gingerbread, and ornamented with sweet cakes
and tarts, while the window was formed of barley-sugar. "Oh!" exclaimed
Hansel, "let us stop here and have a splendid feast. I will have a piece
from the roof first, Grethel; and you can eat some of the barley-sugar
window, it tastes so nice." Hansel reached up on tiptoe, and breaking
off a piece of the gingerbread, he began to eat with all his might, for
he was very hungry. Grethel seated herself on the doorstep, and began
munching away at the cakes of which it was made. Presently a voice came
out of the cottage:

"Munching, crunching, munching,
Who's eating up my house?"

Then answered the children:

"The wind, the wind,
Only the wind,"

and went on eating as if they never meant to leave off, without a
suspicion of wrong. Hansel, who found the cake on the roof taste very
good, broke off another large piece, and Grethel had just taken out a
whole pane of barley-sugar from the window, and seated herself to eat
it, when the door opened, and a strange-looking old woman came out
leaning on a stick.

Hansel and Grethel were so frightened that they let fall what they held
in their hands. The old woman shook her head at them, and said, "Ah, you
dear children, who has brought you here? Come in, and stay with me for a
little while, and there shall no harm happen to you." She seized them
both by the hands as she spoke, and led them into the house. She gave
them for supper plenty to eat and drink--milk and pancakes and sugar,
apples and nuts; and when evening came, Hansel and Grethel were shown
two beautiful little beds with white curtains, and they lay down in them
and thought they were in heaven.

But although the old woman pretended to be friendly, she was a wicked
witch, who had her house built of gingerbread on purpose to entrap
children. When once they were in her power, she would feed them well
till they got fat, and then kill them and cook them for her dinner; and
this she called her feast-day. Fortunately the witch had weak eyes, and
could not see very well; but she had a very keen scent, as wild animals
have, and could easily discover when human beings were near. As Hansel
and Grethel had approached her cottage, she laughed to herself
maliciously, and said, with a sneer: "I have them now; they shall not
escape from me again!"

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23