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English Fairy Tales

by Flora Annie Webster Steel · English · Gutenberg #17034 · 436,468 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: English Fairy Tales

Author: Flora Annie Webster Steel

Illustrator: Arthur Rackham


        
Release date: November 9, 2005 [eBook #17034]
                Most recently updated: December 12, 2020

Language: English

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ENGLISH FAIRY-TALES

Retold by

FLORA ANNIE STEEL

Illustrated by Arthur Rackham

First published by Macmillan & Co. 1918







[Illustration: Mr. and Mrs. Vinegar at home (page 190).]





CONTENTS


   ST. GEORGE OF MERRIE ENGLAND

   THE STORY OF THE THREE BEARS

   TOM-TIT-TOT

   THE GOLDEN SNUFF-BOX

   TATTERCOATS

   THE THREE FEATHERS

   LAZY JACK

   JACK THE GIANT-KILLER

   THE THREE SILLIES

   THE GOLDEN BALL

   THE TWO SISTERS

   THE LAIDLY WORM

   TITTY MOUSE AND TATTY MOUSE

   JACK AND THE BEANSTALK

   THE BLACK BULL OF NORROWAY

   CATSKIN

   THE THREE LITTLE PIGS

   NIX NAUGHT NOTHING

   MR. AND MRS. VINEGAR

   THE TRUE HISTORY OF SIR THOMAS THUMB

   HENNY-PENNY

   THE THREE HEADS OF THE WELL

   MR. FOX

   DICK WHITTINGTON AND HIS CAT

   THE OLD WOMAN AND HER PIG

   THE WEE BANNOCK

   HOW JACK WENT OUT TO SEEK HIS FORTUNE

   THE BOGEY-BEAST

   LITTLE RED RIDING-HOOD

   CHILDE ROWLAND

   THE WISE MEN OF GOTHAM

   CAPORUSHES

   THE BABES IN THE WOOD

   THE RED ETTIN

   THE FISH AND THE RING

   LAWKAMERCYME

   MASTER OF ALL MASTERS

   MOLLY WHUPPIE AND THE DOUBLE-FACED GIANT

   THE ASS, THE TABLE, AND THE STICK

   THE WELL OF THE WORLD'S END

   THE ROSE TREE





ILLUSTRATIONS


   IN COLOUR


      Mr. and Mrs. Vinegar at home

      "Somebody has been at my porridge, and has eaten it all up!"

      Tattercoats dancing while the gooseherd pipes

      The giant Cormoran was the terror of all the country-side

      Taking the keys of the castle, Jack unlocked all the doors

      The giant Galligantua and the wicked old magician transform the
      duke's daughter into a white hind

      "Tree of mine! O Tree of mine! Have you seen my naughty little
      maid?"

      "Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman"

      She went along, and went along, and went along

      And that is the story of Mr. and Mrs. Vinegar

      They thanked her and said good-bye, and she went on her journey

      Many's the beating he had from the broomstick or the ladle

      When Puss saw the rats and mice she didn't wait to be told

      "Well!" she chuckled, "I am in luck!"

      She sat down and plaited herself an overall of rushes and a cap
      to match

      The fisherman and his wife had no children, and they were just
      longing for a baby


   IN TEXT


      Headpiece--St. George of Merrie England

      When she came to St. George she started and laid her hand on
      her heart

      "Somebody has been lying in my bed,--and here she is!"

      "What is that you are singing, my good woman?"

      A small, little, black Thing with a long tail

      Away That flew into the dark, and she never saw it no more

      They brought the Castle of the golden pillars

      Jack found it hard to hoist the donkey on his shoulders

      "Odds splutter hur nails!" cried the giant, not to be outdone.
      "Hur can do that hurself!"

      "Ah! Cousin Jack! Kind cousin Jack! This is heavy news indeed"

      Seated on a huge block of timber near the entrance to a dark
      cave

      On his way ... to be revenged

      The country folk flying before him like chaff before the wind

      Headpiece--The Three Sillies

      Headpiece--The Golden Ball

      He heard the bogles striving under the bed

      Headpiece--The Laidly Worm

      Tatty sat down and wept

      As he spoke he drew out of his pocket five beans

      Jack seized the axe and gave a great chop at the beanstalk

      So he huffed and he puffed and he blew the house in

      So he huffed and he puffed and he blew the house in

      Well! he huffed and he puffed ... but he could _not_
      blow the house down

      At last he flew into a violent rage and flung his stick at the
      bird

      A spider one day attacked him

      "I will go first and you come after, Henny-penny, Cocky-locky,
      Ducky-daddles, Goosey-poosey, and Turkey-lurkey"

      So she escaped

      The thorns closed in around her so that she was all scratched
      and torn

      Dick finds that the streets of London are not paved with gold

      Dick Whittington hears Bow Bells

      The old woman and her pig

      Headpiece--How Jack went out to seek his Fortune

      They both met together upon Nottingham bridge

      "A vengeance on her!" said they. "We did not make our hedge
      high enough"

      He took out the cheeses and rolled them down the hill

      And they left the eel to drown

      The hare ran on along the country way

      A courtier came riding by, and he did ask what they were
      seeking

      Headpiece--Lawkamercyme

      A funny-looking old gentleman engaged her and took her home

      White-faced simminy has got a spark of hot cockalorum on its
      tail




[Illustration: Headpiece--St. George of Merrie England]




ST. GEORGE OF MERRIE ENGLAND


In the darksome depths of a thick forest lived Kalyb the fell
enchantress. Terrible were her deeds, and few there were who had the
hardihood to sound the brazen trumpet which hung over the iron gate that
barred the way to the Abode of Witchcraft. Terrible were the deeds of
Kalyb; but above all things she delighted in carrying off innocent
new-born babes, and putting them to death.

And this, doubtless, she meant to be the fate of the infant son of the
Earl of Coventry, who long long years ago was Lord High Steward of
England. Certain it is that the babe's father being absent, and his
mother dying at his birth, the wicked Kalyb, with spells and charms,
managed to steal the child from his careless nurses.

But the babe was marked from the first for doughty deeds; for on his
breast was pictured the living image of a dragon, on his right hand was
a blood-red cross, and on his left leg showed the golden garter.

And these signs so affected Kalyb, the fell enchantress, that she stayed
her hand; and the child growing daily in beauty and stature, he became
to her as the apple of her eye. Now, when twice seven years had passed
the boy began to thirst for honourable adventures, though the wicked
enchantress wished to keep him as her own.

But he, seeking glory, utterly disdained so wicked a creature; thus she
sought to bribe him. And one day, taking him by the hand, she led him to
a brazen castle and showed him six brave knights, prisoners therein.
Then said she:

"Lo! These be the six champions of Christendom. Thou shalt be the
seventh and thy name shall be St. George of Merrie England if thou wilt
stay with me."

But he would not.

Then she led him into a magnificent stable where stood seven of the most
beautiful steeds ever seen. "Six of these," said she, "belong to the six
Champions. The seventh and the best, the swiftest and the most powerful
in the world, whose name is Bayard, will I bestow on thee, if thou wilt
stay with me."

But he would not.

Then she took him to the armoury, and with her own hand buckled on a
corselet of purest steel, and laced on a helmet inlaid with gold. Then,
taking a mighty falchion, she gave it into his hand, and said: "This
armour which none can pierce, this sword called Ascalon, which will hew
in sunder all it touches, are thine; surely now thou wilt stop with me?"

But he would not.

Then she bribed him with her own magic wand, thus giving him power over
all things in that enchanted land, saying:

"Surely now wilt thou remain here?"

But he, taking the wand, struck with it a mighty rock that stood by; and
lo! it opened, and laid in view a wide cave garnished by the bodies of a
vast number of innocent new-born infants whom the wicked enchantress had
murdered.

Thus, using her power, he bade the sorceress lead the way into the place
of horror, and when she had entered, he raised the magic wand yet again,
and smote the rock; and lo! it closed for ever, and the sorceress was
left to bellow forth her lamentable complaints to senseless stones.

Thus was St. George freed from the enchanted land, and taking with him
the six other champions of Christendom on their steeds, he mounted
Bayard and rode to the city of Coventry.

Here for nine months they abode, exercising themselves in all feats of
arms. So when spring returned they set forth, as knights errant, to seek
for foreign adventure.

And for thirty days and thirty nights they rode on, until, at the
beginning of a new month, they came to a great wide plain. Now in the
centre of this plain, where seven several ways met, there stood a great
brazen pillar, and here, with high heart and courage, they bade each
other farewell, and each took a separate road.

Hence, St. George, on his charger Bayard, rode till he reached the
seashore where lay a good ship bound for the land of Egypt. Taking
passage in her, after long journeying he arrived in that land when the
silent wings of night were outspread, and darkness brooded on all
things. Here, coming to a poor hermitage, he begged a night's lodging,
on which the hermit replied:

"Sir Knight of Merrie England--for I see her arms graven on thy
breastplate--thou hast come hither in an ill time, when those alive are
scarcely able to bury the dead by reason of the cruel destruction waged
by a terrible dragon, who ranges up and down the country by day and by
night. If he have not an innocent maiden to devour each day, he sends a
mortal plague amongst the people. And this has not ceased for twenty and
four years, so that there is left throughout the land but one maiden,
the beautiful Sâbia, daughter to the King. And to-morrow must she die,
unless some brave knight will slay the monster. To such will the King
give his daughter in marriage, and the crown of Egypt in due time."

"For crowns I care not," said St. George boldly, "but the beauteous
maiden shall not die. I will slay the monster."

So, rising at dawn of day, he buckled on his armour, laced his helmet,
and with the falchion Ascalon in his hand, bestrode Bayard, and rode
into the Valley of the Dragon. Now on the way he met a procession of old
women weeping and wailing, and in their midst the most beauteous damsel
he had ever seen. Moved by compassion he dismounted, and bowing low
before the lady entreated her to return to her father's palace, since he
was about to kill the dreaded dragon. Whereupon the beautiful Sâbia,
thanking him with smiles and tears, did as he requested, and he,
re-mounting, rode on his emprise.

Now, no sooner did the dragon catch sight of the brave Knight than its
leathern throat sent out a sound more terrible than thunder, and
weltering from its hideous den, it spread its burning wings and prepared
to assail its foe.

Its size and appearance might well have made the stoutest heart tremble.
From shoulder to tail ran full forty feet, its body was covered with
silver scales, its belly was as gold, and through its flaming wings the
blood ran thick and red.

So fierce was its onset, that at the very first encounter the Knight was
nigh felled to the ground; but recovering himself he gave the dragon
such a thrust with his spear that the latter shivered to a thousand
pieces; whereupon the furious monster smote him so violently with its
tail that both horse and rider were overthrown.

Now, by great good chance, St. George was flung under the shade of a
flowering orange tree, whose fragrance hath this virtue in it, that no
poisonous beast dare come within the compass of its branches. So there
the valiant knight had time to recover his senses, until with eager
courage he rose, and rushing to the combat, smote the burning dragon on
his burnished belly with his trusty sword Ascalon; and thereinafter
spouted out such black venom, as, falling on the armour of the Knight,
burst it in twain. And ill might it have fared with St. George of Merrie
England but for the orange tree, which once again gave him shelter under
its branches, where, seeing the issue of the fight was in the Hands of
the Most High, he knelt and prayed that such strength of body should be
given him as would enable him to prevail. Then with a bold and
courageous heart, he advanced again, and smote the fiery dragon under
one of his flaming wings, so that the weapon pierced the heart, and all
the grass around turned crimson with the blood that flowed from the
dying monster. So St. George of England cut off the dreadful head, and
hanging it on a truncheon made of the spear which at the beginning of
the combat had shivered against the beast's scaly back, he mounted his
steed Bayard, and proceeded to the palace of the King.

Now the King's name was Ptolemy, and when he saw that the dreaded dragon
was indeed slain, he gave orders for the city to be decorated. And he
sent a golden chariot with wheels of ebony and cushions of silk to bring
St. George to the palace, and commanded a hundred nobles dressed in
crimson velvet, and mounted on milk-white steeds richly caparisoned, to
escort him thither with all honour, while musicians walked before and
after, filling the air with sweetest sounds.

Now the beautiful Sâbia herself washed and dressed the weary Knight's
wounds, and gave him in sign of betrothal a diamond ring of purest
water. Then, after he had been invested by the King with the golden
spurs of knighthood and had been magnificently feasted, he retired to
rest his weariness, while the beautiful Sâbia from her balcony lulled
him to sleep with her golden lute.

So all seemed happiness; but alas! dark misfortune was at hand.

Almidor, the black King of Morocco, who had long wooed the Princess
Sâbia in vain, without having the courage to defend her, seeing that the
maiden had given her whole heart to her champion, resolved to compass
his destruction.

So, going to King Ptolemy, he told him--what was perchance true--namely,
that the beauteous Sâbia had promised St. George to become Christian,
and follow him to England. Now the thought of this so enraged the King
that, forgetting his debt of honour, he determined on an act of basest
treachery.

Telling St. George that his love and loyalty needed further trial, he
entrusted him with a message to the King of Persia, and forbade him
either to take with him his horse Bayard or his sword Ascalon; nor would
he even allow him to say farewell to his beloved Sâbia.

St. George then set forth sorrowfully, and surmounting many dangers,
reached the Court of the King of Persia in safety; but what was his
anger to find that the secret missive he bore contained nothing but an
earnest request to put the bearer of it to death. But he was helpless,
and when sentence had been passed upon him, he was thrown into a loathly
dungeon, clothed in base and servile weeds, and his arms strongly
fettered up to iron bolts, while the roars of the two hungry lions who
were to devour him ere long, deafened his ears. Now his rage and fury at
this black treachery was such that it gave him strength, and with mighty
effort he drew the staples that held his fetters; so being part free he
tore his long locks of amber-coloured hair from his head and wound them
round his arms instead of gauntlets. So prepared he rushed on the lions
when they were let loose upon him, and thrusting his arms down their
throats choked them, and thereinafter tearing out their very hearts,
held them up in triumph to the gaolers who stood by trembling with fear.

After this the King of Persia gave up the hopes of putting St. George to
death, and, doubling the bars of the dungeon, left him to languish
therein. And there the unhappy Knight remained for seven long years, his
thoughts full of his lost Princess; his only companions rats and mice
and creeping worms, his only food and drink bread made of the coarsest
bran and dirty water.

At last one day, in a dark corner of his dungeon, he found one of the
iron staples he had drawn in his rage and fury. It was half consumed
with rust, yet it was sufficient in his hands to open a passage through
the walls of his cell into the King's garden. It was the time of night
when all things are silent; but St. George, listening, heard the voices
of grooms in the stables; which, entering, he found two grooms
furnishing forth a horse against some business. Whereupon, taking the
staple with which he had redeemed himself from prison, he slew the
grooms, and mounting the palfrey rode boldly to the city gates, where he
told the watchman at the Bronze Tower that St. George having escaped
from the dungeon, he was in hot pursuit of him. Whereupon the gates were
thrown open, and St. George, clapping spurs to his horse, found himself
safe from pursuit before the first red beams of the sun shot up into the
sky.

Now, ere long, being most famished with hunger, he saw a tower set on a
high cliff, and riding thitherward determined to ask for food. But as he
neared the castle he saw a beauteous damsel in a blue and gold robe
seated disconsolate at a window. Whereupon, dismounting, he called aloud
to her:

"Lady! If thou hast sorrow of thine own, succour one also in distress,
and give me, a Christian Knight, now almost famished, one meal's meat."
To which she replied quickly:

"Sir Knight! Fly quickly as thou canst, for my lord is a mighty giant, a
follower of Mahomed, who hath sworn to destroy all Christians."

Hearing this St. George laughed loud and long. "Go tell him then, fair
dame," he cried, "that a Christian Knight waits at his door, and will
either satisfy his wants within his castle or slay the owner thereof."

Now the giant no sooner heard this valiant challenge than he rushed
forth to the combat, armed with a hugeous crowbar of iron. He was a
monstrous giant, deformed, with a huge head, bristled like any boar's,
with hot, glaring eyes and a mouth equalling a tiger's. At first sight
of him St. George gave himself up for lost, not so much for fear, but
for hunger and faintness of body. Still, commending himself to the Most
High, he also rushed to the combat with such poor arms as he had, and
with many a regret for the loss of his magic sword Ascalon. So they
fought till noon, when, just as the champion's strength was nigh
finished, the giant stumbled on the root of a tree, and St. George,
taking his chance, ran him through the mid-rib, so that he gasped and
died.

After which St. George entered the tower; whereat the beautiful lady,
freed from her terrible lord, set before him all manner of delicacies
and pure wine with which he sufficed his hunger, rested his weary body,
and refreshed his horse.

So, leaving the tower in the hands of the grateful lady, he went on his
way, coming ere long to the Enchanted Garden of the necromancer
Ormadine, where, embedded in the living rock, he saw a magic sword, the
like of which for beauty he had never seen, the belt being beset with
jaspers and sapphire stones, while the pommel was a globe of the purest
silver chased in gold with these verses:

  My magic will remain most firmly bound
  Till that a knight from the far north be found
  To pull this sword from out its bed of stone.
  Lo! when he comes wise Ormadine must fall.
  Farewell, my magic power, my spell, my all.

Seeing this St. George put his hand to the hilt, thinking to essay
pulling it out by strength; but lo! he drew it out with as much ease as
though it had hung by a thread of untwisted silk. And immediately every
door in the enchanted garden flew open, and the magician Ormadine
appeared, his hair standing on end; and he, after kissing the hand of
the champion, led him to a cave where a young man wrapped in a sheet of
gold lay sleeping, lulled by the songs of four beautiful maidens.

"The Knight whom thou seest here!" said the necromancer in a hollow
voice, "is none other than thy brother-in-arms, the Christian Champion
St. David of Wales. He also attempted to draw my sword but failed. Him
hast thou delivered from my enchantments since they come to an end."

Now, as he spoke, came such a rattling of the skies, such a lumbering of
the earth as never was, and in the twinkling of an eye the Enchanted
Garden and all in it vanished from view, leaving the Champion of Wales,
roused from his seven years' sleep, giving thanks to St. George, who
greeted his ancient comrade heartily.

After this St. George of Merrie England travelled far and travelled
fast, with many adventures by the way, to Egypt where he had left his
beloved Princess Sâbia. But, learning to his great grief and horror from
the same hermit he had met on first landing, that, despite her denials,
her father, King Ptolemy, had consented to Almidor the black King of
Morocco carrying her off as one of his many wives, he turned his steps
towards Tripoli, the capital of Morocco; for he was determined at all
costs to gain a sight of the dear Princess from whom he had been so
cruelly rent.

To this end he borrowed an old cloak of the hermit, and, disguised as a
beggar, gained admittance to the gate of the Women's Palace, where were
gathered together on their knees many others, poor, frail, infirm.

And when he asked them wherefore they knelt, they answered:

"Because good Queen Sâbia succours us that we may pray for the safety of
St. George of England, to whom she gave her heart."

Now when St. George heard this his own heart was like to break for very
joy, and he could scarce keep on his knees when, lovely as ever, but
with her face pale and sad and wan from long distress, the Princess
Sâbia appeared clothed in deep mourning.

In silence she handed an alms to each beggar in turn; but when she came
to St. George she started and laid her hand on her heart. Then she said
softly:

"Rise up, Sir Beggar! Thou art too like one who rescued me from death,
for it to be meet for thee to kneel before me!"

Then St. George rising, and bowing low, said quietly: "Peerless lady!
Lo! I am that very knight to whom thou did'st condescend to give this."

And with this he slipped the diamond ring she had given him on her
finger. But she looked not at it, but at him, with love in her eyes.

Then he told her of her father's base treachery and Almidor's part in
it, so that her anger grew hot and she cried:

"Waste no more time in talk. I remain no longer in this detested place.
Ere Almidor returns from hunting we shall have escaped."

[Illustration: When she came to St. George she started and laid her
hand on her heart]

So she led St. George to the armoury, where he found his trusty sword
Ascalon, and to the stable, where his swift steed Bayard stood ready
caparisoned.

Then, when her brave Knight had mounted, and she, putting her foot on
his, had leapt like a bird behind him, St. George touched the proud
beast lightly with his spurs, and, like an arrow from a bow, Bayard
carried them together over city and plain, through woods and forests,
across rivers, and mountains, and valleys, until they reached the Land
of Greece.

And here they found the whole country in festivity over the marriage of
the King. Now amongst other entertainments was a grand tournament, the
news of which had spread through the world. And to it had come all the
other Six Champions of Christendom; so St. George arriving made the
Seventh. And many of the champions had with them the fair lady they had
rescued. St. Denys of France brought beautiful Eglantine, St. James of
Spain sweet Celestine, while noble Rosalind accompanied St. Anthony of
Italy. St. David of Wales, after his seven years' sleep, came full of
eager desire for adventure. St. Patrick of Ireland, ever courteous,
brought all the six Swan-princesses who, in gratitude, had been seeking
their deliverer St. Andrew of Scotland; since he, leaving all worldly
things, had chosen to fight for the faith.

So all these brave knights and fair ladies joined in the joyful
jousting, and each of the Seven Champions was in turn Chief Challenger
for a day.

Now in the midst of all the merriment appeared a hundred heralds from a
hundred different parts of the Paynim world, declaring war to the death
against all Christians.

Whereupon the Seven Champions agreed that each should return to his
native land to place his dearest lady in safety, and gather together an
army, and that six months later they should meet, and, joining as one
legion, go forth to fight for Christendom.

And this was done. So, having chosen St. George as Chief General, they
marched on Tripoli with the cry:

  "For Christendom we fight,
   For Christendom we die."

Here the wicked Almidor fell in single combat with St. George, to the
great delight of his subjects, who begged the Champion to be King in his
stead. To this he consented, and, after he was crowned, the Christian
host went on towards Egypt where King Ptolemy, in despair of vanquishing
such stalwart knights, threw himself down from the battlements of the
palace and was killed. Whereupon, in recognition of the chivalry and
courtesy of the Christian Champions, the nobles offered the Crown to one
of their number, and they with acclaim chose St. George of Merrie
England.

Thence the Christian host journeyed to Persia, where a fearsome battle
raged for seven days, during which two hundred thousand pagans were
slain, beside many who were drowned in attempting to escape. Thus they
were compelled to yield, the Emperor himself happening into the hands of
St. George, and six other viceroys into the hands of the six other
Champions.

And these were most mercifully and honourably entreated after they had
promised to govern Persia after Christian rules. Now the Emperor, having
a heart fraught with despite and tyranny, conspired against them, and
engaged a wicked wizard named Osmond to so beguile six of the Champions
that they gave up fighting, and lived an easy slothful life. But St.
George would not be beguiled; neither would he consent to the
enchantment of his brothers; and he so roused them that they never
sheathed their swords nor unlocked their armour till the wicked Emperor
and his viceroys were thrown into that very dungeon in which St. George
had languished for seven long years.

Whereupon St. George took upon himself the government of Persia, and
gave the six other Champions the six viceroyalties.

So, attired in a beautiful green robe, richly embroidered, over which
was flung a scarlet mantle bordered with white fur and decorated with
ornaments of pure gold, he took his seat on the throne which was
supported by elephants of translucent alabaster. And the Heralds at
arms, amid the shouting of the people, cried:

"Long live St. George of Merrie England, Emperor of Morocco, King of
Egypt, and Sultan of Persia!"

Now, after that he had established good and just laws to such effect
that innumerable companies of pagans flocked to become Christians, St.
George, leaving the Government in the hands of his trusted counsellors,
took truce with the world and returned to England, where, at Coventry,
he lived for many years with the Egyptian Princess Sâbia, who bore him
three stalwart sons. So here endeth the tale of St. George of Merrie
England, first and greatest of the Seven Champions.




THE STORY OF THE THREE BEARS


Once upon a time there were three Bears, who lived together in a house
of their own, in a wood. One of them was a Little Wee Bear, and one was
a Middle-sized Bear, and the other was a Great Big Bear. They had each a
bowl for their porridge; a little bowl for the Little Wee Bear; and a
middle-sized bowl for the Middle-sized Bear; and a great bowl for the
Great Big Bear. And they had each a chair to sit in; a little chair for
the Little Wee Bear; and a middle-sized chair for the Middle-sized Bear;
and a great chair for the Great Big Bear. And they had each a bed to
sleep in; a little bed for the Little Wee Bear; and a middle-sized bed
for the Middle-sized Bear; and a great bed for the Great Big Bear.

One day, after they had made the porridge for their breakfast, and
poured it into their porridge-bowls, they walked out into the wood while
the porridge was cooling, that they might not burn their mouths by
beginning too soon, for they were polite, well-brought-up Bears. And
while they were away a little girl called Goldilocks, who lived at the
other side of the wood and had been sent on an errand by her mother,
passed by the house, and looked in at the window. And then she peeped in
at the keyhole, for she was not at all a well-brought-up little girl.
Then seeing nobody in the house she lifted the latch. The door was not
fastened, because the Bears were good Bears, who did nobody any harm,
and never suspected that anybody would harm them. So Goldilocks opened
the door and went in; and well pleased was she when she saw the porridge
on the table. If she had been a well-brought-up little girl she would
have waited till the Bears came home, and then, perhaps, they would have
asked her to breakfast; for they were good Bears--a little rough or so,
as the manner of Bears is, but for all that very good-natured and
hospitable. But she was an impudent, rude little girl, and so she set
about helping herself.

First she tasted the porridge of the Great Big Bear, and that was too
hot for her. Next she tasted the porridge of the Middle-sized Bear, but
that was too cold for her. And then she went to the porridge of the
Little Wee Bear, and tasted it, and that was neither too hot nor too
cold, but just right, and she liked it so well that she ate it all up,
every bit!

Then Goldilocks, who was tired, for she had been catching butterflies
instead of running on her errand, sate down in the chair of the Great
Big Bear, but that was too hard for her. And then she sate down in the
chair of the Middle-sized Bear, and that was too soft for her. But when
she sat down in the chair of the Little Wee Bear, that was neither too
hard nor too soft, but just right. So she seated herself in it, and
there she sate till the bottom of the chair came out, and down she came,
plump upon the ground; and that made her very cross, for she was a
bad-tempered little girl.

Now, being determined to rest, Goldilocks went upstairs into the
bedchamber in which the Three Bears slept. And first she lay down upon
the bed of the Great Big Bear, but that was too high at the head for
her. And next she lay down upon the bed of the Middle-sized Bear, and
that was too high at the foot for her. And then she lay down upon the
bed of the Little Wee Bear, and that was neither too high at the head
nor at the foot, but just right. So she covered herself up comfortably,
and lay there till she fell fast asleep.

By this time the Three Bears thought their porridge would be cool enough
for them to eat it properly; so they came home to breakfast. Now
careless Goldilocks had left the spoon of the Great Big Bear standing in
his porridge.

                "SOMEBODY HAS BEEN AT MY PORRIDGE!"

said the Great Big Bear in his great, rough, gruff voice.

Then the Middle-sized Bear looked at his porridge and saw the spoon was
standing in it too.

                "SOMEBODY HAS BEEN AT MY PORRIDGE!"

said the Middle-sized Bear in his middle-sized voice.

Then the Little Wee Bear looked at his, and there was the spoon in the
porridge-bowl, but the porridge was all gone!

      "SOMEBODY HAS BEEN AT MY PORRIDGE, AND HAS EATEN IT ALL UP!"

said the Little Wee Bear in his little wee voice.

Upon this the Three Bears, seeing that some one had entered their house,
and eaten up the Little Wee Bear's breakfast, began to look about them.
Now the careless Goldilocks had not put the hard cushion straight when
she rose from the chair of the Great Big Bear.

                "SOMEBODY HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY CHAIR!"

said the Great Big Bear in his great, rough, gruff voice.

And the careless Goldilocks had squatted down the soft cushion of the
Middle-sized Bear.

                "SOMEBODY HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY CHAIR!"

said the Middle-sized Bear in his middle-sized voice.

      "SOMEBODY HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY CHAIR, AND HAS SATE THE BOTTOM
       THROUGH!"

said the Little Wee Bear in his little wee voice.

Then the Three Bears thought they had better make further search in case
it was a burglar, so they went upstairs into their bedchamber. Now
Goldilocks had pulled the pillow of the Great Big Bear out of its place.

                "SOMEBODY HAS BEEN LYING IN MY BED!"

said the Great Big Bear in his great, rough, gruff voice.

And Goldilocks had pulled the bolster of the Middle-sized Bear out of
its place.

                "SOMEBODY HAS BEEN LYING IN MY BED!"

said the Middle-sized Bear in his middle-sized voice.

But when the Little Wee Bear came to look at his bed, there was the
bolster in its place!

And the pillow was in its place upon the bolster!

And upon the pillow----?

There was Goldilocks's yellow head--which was not in its place, for she
had no business there.

      "SOMEBODY HAS BEEN LYING IN MY BED,--AND HERE SHE IS STILL!"

said the Little Wee Bear in his little wee voice.

[Illustration: "Somebody has been lying in my bed,--and here she is!"]

Now Goldilocks had heard in her sleep the great, rough, gruff voice of
the Great Big Bear; but she was so fast asleep that it was no more to
her than the roaring of wind, or the rumbling of thunder. And she had
heard the middle-sized voice of the Middle-sized Bear, but it was only
as if she had heard some one speaking in a dream. But when she heard the
little wee voice of the Little Wee Bear, it was so sharp, and so shrill,
that it awakened her at once. Up she started, and when she saw the Three
Bears on one side of the bed, she tumbled herself out at the other, and
ran to the window. Now the window was open, because the Bears, like
good, tidy Bears, as they were, always opened their bedchamber window
when they got up in the morning. So naughty, frightened little
Goldilocks jumped; and whether she broke her neck in the fall, or ran
into the wood and was lost there, or found her way out of the wood and
got whipped for being a bad girl and playing truant, no one can say. But
the Three Bears never saw anything more of her.

[Illustration: "Somebody has been at my porridge, and has eaten it all
up!"]




TOM-TIT-TOT


Once upon a time there was a woman and she baked five pies. But when
they came out of the oven they were over-baked, and the crust was far
too hard to eat. So she said to her daughter:

"Daughter," says she, "put them pies on to the shelf and leave 'em there
awhile. Surely they'll come again in time."

By that, you know, she meant that they would become softer; but her
daughter said to herself, "If Mother says the pies will come again, why
shouldn't I eat these now?" So, having good, young teeth, she set to
work and ate the lot, first and last.

Now when supper-time came the woman said to her daughter, "Go you and
get one of the pies. They are sure to have come again by now."

Then the girl went and looked, but of course there was nothing but the
empty dishes.

So back she came and said, "No, Mother, they ain't come again."

"Not one o' them?" asked the mother, taken aback like.

"Not one o' them," says the daughter, quite confident.

"Well," says the mother, "come again, or not come again, I will have one
of them pies for my supper."

"But you can't," says the daughter. "How can you if they ain't come? And
they ain't, as sure's sure."

"But I can," says the mother, getting angry. "Go you at once, child, and
bring me the best on them. My teeth must just tackle it."

"Best or worst is all one," answered the daughter, quite sulky, "for
I've ate the lot, so you can't have one till it comes again--so there!"

Well, the mother she bounced up to see; but half an eye told her there
was nothing save the empty dishes; so she was dished up herself and done
for.

So, having no supper, she sate her down on the doorstep, and, bringing
out her distaff, began to spin. And as she span she sang:

  "My daughter ha' ate five pies to-day,
   My daughter ha' ate five pies to-day,
   My daughter ha' ate five pies to-day,"

for, see you, she was quite flabbergasted and fair astonished.

Now the King of that country happened to be coming down the street, and
he heard the song going on and on, but could not quite make out the
words. So he stopped his horse, and asked:

"What is that you are singing, my good woman?"

[Illustration: "What is that you are singing, my good woman?"]

Now the mother, though horrified at her daughter's appetite, did not
want other folk, leastwise the King, to know about it, so she sang
instead:

  "My daughter ha' spun five skeins to-day,
   My daughter ha' spun five skeins to-day,
   My daughter ha' spun five skeins to-day."

"Five skeins!" cried the King. "By my garter and my crown, I never heard
tell of any one who could do that! Look you here, I have been searching
for a maiden to wife, and your daughter who can spin five skeins a day
is the very one for me. Only, mind you, though for eleven months of the
year she shall be Queen indeed, and have all she likes to eat, all the
gowns she likes to get, all the company she likes to keep, and
everything her heart desires, in the twelfth month she must set to work
and spin five skeins a day, and if she does not she must die. Come! is
it a bargain?"

So the mother agreed. She thought what a grand marriage it was for her
daughter. And as for the five skeins? Time enough to bother about them
when the year came round. There was many a slip between cup and lip,
and, likely as not, the King would have forgotten all about it by then.

Anyhow, her daughter would be Queen for eleven months. So they were
married, and for eleven months the bride was happy as happy could be.
She had everything she liked to eat, and all the gowns she liked to get,
all the company she cared to keep, and everything her heart desired. And
her husband the King was kind as kind could be. But in the tenth month
she began to think of those five skeins and wonder if the King
remembered. And in the eleventh month she began to dream about them as
well. But ne'er a word did the King, her husband, say about them; so she
hoped he had forgotten.

But on the very last day of the eleventh month, the King, her husband,
led her into a room she had never set eyes on before. It had one window,
and there was nothing in it but a stool and a spinning-wheel.

"Now, my dear," he said quite kind like, "you will be shut in here
to-morrow morning with some victuals and some flax, and if by evening
you have not spun five skeins, your head will come off."

Well she was fair frightened, for she had always been such a gatless
thoughtless girl that she had never learnt to spin at all. So what she
was to do on the morrow she could not tell; for, see you, she had no one
to help her; for, of course, now she was Queen, her mother didn't live
nigh her. So she just locked the door of her room, sat down on a stool,
and cried and cried and cried until her pretty eyes were all red.

Now as she sate sobbing and crying she heard a queer little noise at the
bottom of the door. At first she thought it was a mouse. Then she
thought it must be something knocking.

So she upped and opened the door and what did she see? Why! a small,
little, black Thing with a long tail that whisked round and round ever
so fast.

"What are you crying for?" said that Thing, making a bow, and twirling
its tail so fast that she could scarcely see it.

"What's that to you?" said she, shrinking a bit, for that Thing was very
queer like.

"Don't look at my tail if you're frightened," says That, smirking. "Look
at my toes. Ain't they beautiful?"

And sure enough That had on buckled shoes with high heels and big bows,
ever so smart.

[Illustration: A small, little, black Thing with a long tail]

So she kind of forgot about the tail, and wasn't so frightened, and
when That asked her again why she was crying, she upped and said, "It
won't do no good if I do."

"You don't know that," says That, twirling its tail faster and faster,
and sticking out its toes. "Come, tell me, there's a good girl."

"Well," says she, "it can't do any harm if it doesn't do good." So she
dried her pretty eyes and told That all about the pies, and the skeins,
and everything from first to last.

And then that little, black Thing nearly burst with laughing. "If that
is all, it's easy mended!" it says. "I'll come to your window every
morning, take the flax, and bring it back spun into five skeins at
night. Come! shall it be a bargain?"

Now she, for all she was so gatless and thoughtless, said, cautious
like:

"But what is your pay?"

Then That twirled its tail so fast you couldn't see it, and stuck out
its beautiful toes, and smirked and looked out of the corners of its
eyes. "I will give you three guesses every night to guess my name, and
if you haven't guessed it before the month is up, why"--and That twirled
its tail faster and stuck out its toes further, and smirked and
sniggered more than ever--"you shall be mine, my beauty."

Three guesses every night for a whole month! She felt sure she would be
able for so much; and there was no other way out of the business, so she
just said, "Yes! I agree!"

And lor! how That twirled its tail, and bowed, and smirked, and stuck
out its beautiful toes.

Well, the very next day her husband led her to the strange room again,
and there was the day's food, and a spinning-wheel and a great bundle of
flax.

"There you are, my dear," says he as polite as polite. "And remember! if
there are not five whole skeins to-night, I fear your head will come
off!"

At that she began to tremble, and after he had gone away and locked the
door, she was just thinking of a good cry, when she heard a queer
knocking at the window. She upped at once and opened it, and sure enough
there was the small, little, black Thing sitting on the window-ledge,
dangling its beautiful toes and twirling its tail so that you could
scarcely see it.

"Good-morning, my beauty," says That. "Come! hand over the flax, sharp,
there's a good girl."

So she gave That the flax and shut the window and, you may be sure, ate
her victuals, for, as you know, she had a good appetite, and the King,
her husband, had promised to give her everything she liked to eat. So
she ate to her heart's content, and when evening came and she heard that
queer knocking at the window again, she upped and opened it, and there
was the small, little, black Thing with five spun skeins on his arm!

And it twirled its tail faster than ever, and stuck out its beautiful
toes, and bowed and smirked and gave her the five skeins.

Then That said, "And now, my beauty, what is That's name?"

And she answered quite easy like:

"That is Bill."

"No, it ain't," says That, and twirled its tail.

"Then That is Ned," says she.

"No, it ain't," says That, and twirled its tail faster.

"Well," says she a bit more thoughtful, "That is Mark."

"No, it ain't," says That, and laughs and laughs and laughs, and twirls
its tail so as you couldn't see it, as away it flew.

Well, when the King, her husband, came in, he was fine and pleased to
see the five skeins all ready for him, for he was fond of his pretty
wife.

"I shall not have to order your head off, my dear," says he. "And I hope
all the other days will pass as happily." Then he said good-night and
locked the door and left her.

But next morning they brought her fresh flax and even more delicious
foods. And the small, little, black Thing came knocking at the window
and stuck out its beautiful toes and twirled its tail faster and faster,
and took away the bundle of flax and brought it back all spun into five
skeins by evening.

Then That made her guess three times what That's name was; but she could
not guess right, and That laughed and laughed and laughed as it flew
away.

Now every morning and evening the same thing happened, and every evening
she had her three guesses; but she never guessed right. And every day
the small, little, black Thing laughed louder and louder and smirked
more and more, and looked at her quite maliceful out of the corners of
its eyes until she began to get frightened, and instead of eating all
the fine foods left for her, spent the day in trying to think of names
to say. But she never hit upon the right one.

So it came to the last day of the month but one, and when the small,
little, black Thing arrived in the evening with the five skeins of flax
all ready spun, it could hardly say for smirking:

"Ain't you got That's name yet?"

So says she--for she had been reading her Bible:

"Is That Nicodemus?"

"No, it ain't," says That, and twirled its tail faster than you could
see.

"Is That Samuel?" says she all of a flutter.

"No, it ain't, my beauty," chuckles That, looking maliceful.

"Well--is That Methuselah?" says she, inclined to cry.

Then That just fixes her with eyes like a coal a-fire, and says, "No, it
ain't that neither, so there is only to-morrow night and then you'll be
mine, my beauty."

And away the small, little, black Thing flew, its tail twirling and
whisking so fast that you couldn't see it.

Well, she felt so bad she couldn't even cry; but she heard the King, her
husband, coming to the door, so she made bold to be cheerful, and tried
to smile when he said, "Well done, wife! Five skeins again! I shall not
have to order your head off after all, my dear, of that I'm quite sure,
so let us enjoy ourselves." Then he bade the servants bring supper, and
a stool for him to sit beside his Queen, and down they sat, lover-like,
side by side.

But the poor Queen could eat nothing; she could not forget the small,
little, black Thing. And the King hadn't eaten but a mouthful or two
when he began to laugh, and he laughed so long and so loud that at last
the poor Queen, all lackadaisical as she was, said:

"Why do you laugh so?"

"At something I saw to-day, my love," says the King. "I was out
a-hunting, and by chance I came to a place I'd never been in before. It
was in a wood, and there was an old chalk-pit there, and out of the
chalk-pit there came a queer kind of a sort of a humming, humming noise.
So I got off my hobby to see what made it, and went quite quiet to the
edge of the pit and looked down. And what do you think I saw? The
funniest, queerest, smallest, little, black Thing you ever set eyes
upon. And it had a little spinning-wheel and it was spinning away for
dear life, but the wheel didn't go so fast as its tail, and that span
round and round--_ho-ho-ha-ha!_--you never saw the like. And its little
feet had buckled shoes and bows on them, and they went up and down in a
desperate hurry. And all the time that small, little, black Thing kept
bumming and booming away at these words:

  "Name me, name me not,
   Who'll guess it's Tom-Tit-Tot."

Well, when she heard these words the Queen nearly jumped out of her
skin for joy; but she managed to say nothing, but ate her supper quite
comfortably.

And she said no word when next morning the small, little, black Thing
came for the flax, though it looked so gleeful and maliceful that she
could hardly help laughing, knowing she had got the better of it. And
when night came and she heard that knocking against the window-panes,
she put on a wry face, and opened the window slowly as if she was
afraid. But that Thing was as bold as brass and came right inside,
grinning from ear to ear. And oh, my goodness! how That's tail was
twirling and whisking!

"Well, my beauty," says That, giving her the five skeins all ready spun,
"what's my name?"

Then she put down her lip, and says, tearful like,
"Is--is--That--Solomon?"

"No, it ain't," laughs That, smirking out of the corner of That's eye.
And the small, little, black Thing came further into the room.

So she tried again--and this time she seemed hardly able to speak for
fright.

"Well--is That--Zebedee?" she says.

"No, it ain't," cried the impet, full of glee. And it came quite close
and stretched out its little black hands to her, and O-oh, ITS
TAIL...!!!

"Take time, my beauty," says That, sort of jeering like, and its small,
little, black eyes seemed to eat her up. "Take time! Remember! next
guess and you're mine!" Well, she backed just a wee bit from it, for it
was just horrible to look at; but then she laughed out and pointed her
finger at it and said, says she:

          "Name me, name me not,
          _Your_ name is
               _Tom_
                TIT
               _TOT_."

And you never heard such a shriek as that small, little, black Thing
gave out. Its tail dropped down straight, its feet all crumpled up, and
away That flew into the dark, and she never saw it no more.

And she lived happy ever after with her husband, the King.

[Illustration: Away That flew into the dark, and she never saw it no
more]




THE GOLDEN SNUFF-BOX


Once upon a time, and a very good time too, though it was not in my
time, nor your time, nor for the matter of that in any one's time, there
lived a man and a woman who had one son called Jack, and he was just
terribly fond of reading books. He read, and he read, and then, because
his parents lived in a lonely house in a lonely forest and he never saw
any other folk but his father and his mother, he became quite crazy to
go out into the world and see charming princesses and the like.

So one day he told his mother he must be off, and she called him an
air-brained addle-pate, but added that, as he was no use at home, he had
better go seek his fortune. Then she asked him if he would rather take a
small cake with her blessing to eat on his journey, or a large cake with
her curse? Now Jack was a very hungry lad, so he just up and said:

"A big cake, if you please, 'm."

So his mother made a great big cake, and when he started she just off to
the top of the house and cast malisons on him, till he got out of
sight. You see she had to do it, but after that she sate down and cried.

Well, Jack hadn't gone far till he came to a field where his father was
ploughing. Now the goodman was dreadfully put out when he found his son
was going away, and still more so when he heard he had chosen his
mother's malison. So he cast about what to do to put things straight,
and at last he drew out of his pocket a little golden snuff-box, and
gave it to the lad, saying:

"If ever you are in danger of sudden death you may open the box; but not
till then. It has been in our family for years and years; but, as we
have lived, father and son, quietly in the forest, none of us have ever
been in need of help--perhaps you may."

So Jack pocketed the golden snuff-box and went on his way.

Now, after a time, he grew very tired, and very hungry, for he had eaten
his big cake first thing, and night closed in on him so that he could
scarce see his way.

But at last he came to a large house and begged board and lodging at the
back door. Now Jack was a good-looking young fellow, so the maid-servant
at once called him in to the fireside and gave him plenty good meat and
bread and beer. And it so happened that while he was eating his supper
the master's gay young daughter came into the kitchen and saw him. So
she went to her father and said that there was the prettiest young
fellow she had ever seen in the back kitchen, and that if her father
loved her he would give the young man some employment. Now the
gentleman of the house was exceedingly fond of his gay young daughter,
and did not want to vex her; so he went into the back kitchen and
questioned Jack as to what he could do.

"Anything," said Jack gaily, meaning, of course, that he could do any
foolish bit of work about a house.

But the gentleman saw a way of pleasing his gay young daughter and
getting rid of the trouble of employing Jack; so he laughs and says, "If
you can do anything, my good lad," says he, "you had better do this. By
eight o'clock to-morrow morning you must have dug a lake four miles
round in front of my mansion, and on it there must be floating a whole
fleet of vessels. And they must range up in front of my mansion and fire
a salute of guns. And the very last shot must break the leg of the
four-post bed on which my daughter sleeps, for she is always late of a
morning!"

Well! Jack was terribly flabbergasted, but he faltered out:

"And if I don't do it?"

"Then," said the master of the house quite calmly, "your life will be
the forfeit."

So he bade the servants take Jack to a turret-room and lock the door on
him.

Well! Jack sate on the side of his bed and tried to think things out,
but he felt as if he didn't know _b_ from a battledore, so he decided to
think no more, and after saying his prayers he lay down and went to
sleep. And he did sleep! When he woke it was close on eight o'clock,
and he had only time to fly to the window and look out, when the great
clock on the tower began to whirr before it struck the hour. And there
was the lawn in front of the house all set with beds of roses and stocks
and marigolds! Well! all of a sudden he remembered the little golden
snuff-box.

"I'm near enough to death," quoth he to himself, as he drew it out and
opened it.

And no sooner had he opened it than out hopped three funny little red
men in red night-caps, rubbing their eyes and yawning; for, see you,
they had been locked up in the box for years, and years, and years.

"What do you want, Master?" they said between their yawns. But Jack
heard that clock a-whirring and knew he hadn't a moment to lose, so he
just gabbled off his orders. Then the clock began to strike, and the
little men flew out of the window, and suddenly

              Bang! bang! bang! bang! bang! bang!

went the guns, and the last one must have broken the leg of the
four-post bed, for there at the window was the gay young daughter in her
nightcap, gazing with astonishment at the lake four miles round, with
the fleet of vessels floating on it!

And so did Jack! He had never seen such a sight in his life, and he was
quite sorry when the three little red men disturbed him by flying in at
the window and scrambling into the golden snuff-box.

"Give us a little more time when you want us next, Master," they said
sulkily. Then they shut down the lid, and Jack could hear them yawning
inside as they settled down to sleep.

As you may imagine, the master of the house was fair astonished, while
as for the gay young daughter, she declared at once that she would never
marry any one else but the young man who could do such wonderful things;
the truth being that she and Jack had fallen in love with each other at
first sight.

But her father was cautious. "It is true, my dear," says he, "that the
young fellow seems a bully boy; but for aught we know it may be chance,
not skill, and he may have a broken feather in his wing. So we must try
him again."

Then he said to Jack, "My daughter must have a fine house to live in.
Therefore by to-morrow morning at eight o'clock there must be a
magnificent castle standing on twelve golden pillars in the middle of
the lake, and there must be a church beside it. And all things must be
ready for the bride, and at eight o'clock precisely a peal of bells from
the church must ring out for the wedding. If not you will have to
forfeit your life."

This time Jack intended to give the three little red men more time for
their task; but what with having enjoyed himself so much all day, and
having eaten so much good food, he overslept himself, so that the big
clock on the tower was whirring before it struck eight when he woke,
leapt out of bed, and rushed to the golden snuff-box. But he had
forgotten where he had put it, and so the clock had _really_ begun to
strike before he found it under his pillow, opened it, and gabbled out
his orders. And then you never saw how the three little red men tumbled
over each other and yawned and stretched and made haste all at one time,
so that Jack thought his life would surely be forfeit. But just as the
clock struck its last chime, out rang a peal of merry bells, and there
was the Castle standing on twelve golden pillars and a church beside it
in the middle of the lake. And the Castle was all decorated for the
wedding, and there were crowds and crowds of servants and retainers, all
dressed in their Sunday best.

Never had Jack seen such a sight before; neither had the gay young
daughter who, of course, was looking out of the next window in her
nightcap. And she looked so pretty and so gay that Jack felt quite cross
when he had to step back to let the three little red men fly to their
golden snuff-box. But they were far crosser than he was, and mumbled and
grumbled at the hustle, so that Jack was quite glad when they shut the
box down and began to snore.

Well, of course, Jack and the gay young daughter were married, and were
as happy as the day is long; and Jack had fine clothes to wear, fine
food to eat, fine servants to wait on him, and as many fine friends as
he liked.

So he was in luck; but he had yet to learn that a mother's malison is
sure to bring misfortune some time or another.

Thus it happened that one day when he was going a-hunting with all the
ladies and gentlemen, Jack forgot to change the golden snuff-box (which
he always carried about with him for fear of accidents) from his
waistcoat pocket to that of his scarlet hunting-coat; so he left it
behind him. And what should happen but that the servant let it fall on
the ground when he was folding up the clothes, and the snuff-box flew
open and out popped the three little red men yawning and stretching.

Well! when they found out that they hadn't really been summoned, and
that there was no fear of death, they were in a towering temper and said
they had a great mind to fly away with the Castle, golden pillars and
all.

On hearing this the servant pricked up his ears.

"Could you do that?" he asked.

"Could we?" they said, and they laughed loud. "Why, we can do anything."

Then the servant said ever so sharp, "Then move me this Castle and all
it contains right away over the sea where the master can't disturb us."

Now the little red men need not really have obeyed the order, but they
were so cross with Jack that hardly had the servant said the words
before the task was done; so when the hunting-party came back, lo and
behold! the Castle, and the church, and the golden pillars had all
disappeared!

At first all the rest set upon Jack for being a knave and a cheat; and,
in particular, his wife's father threatened to have at him for deceiving
the gay young daughter; but at last he agreed to let Jack have twelve
months and a day to find the Castle and bring it back.

So off Jack starts on a good horse with some money in his pocket.

And he travelled far and he travelled fast, and he travelled east and
west, north and south, over hills, and dales, and valleys, and
mountains, and woods, and sheepwalks, but never a sign of the missing
castle did he see. Now at last he came to the palace of the King of all
the Mice in the Wide World. And there was a little mousie in a fine
hauberk and a steel cap doing sentry at the front gate, and he was not
for letting Jack in until he had told his errand. And when Jack had told
it, he passed him on to the next mouse sentry at the inner gate; so by
degrees he reached the King's chamber, where he sate surrounded by mice
courtiers.

Now the King of the Mice received Jack very graciously, and said that he
himself knew nothing of the missing Castle, but, as he was King of all
the Mice in the whole world, it was possible that some of his subjects
might know more than he. So he ordered his chamberlain to command a
Grand Assembly for the next morning, and in the meantime he entertained
Jack right royally.

But the next morning, though there were brown mice, and black mice, and
grey mice, and white mice, and piebald mice, from all parts of the
world, they all answered with one breath:

"If it please your Majesty, we have not seen the missing Castle."

Then the King said, "You must go and ask my elder brother the King of
all the Frogs. He may be able to tell you. Leave your horse here and
take one of mine. It knows the way and will carry you safe."

So Jack set off on the King's horse, and as he passed the outer gate he
saw the little mouse sentry coming away, for its guard was up. Now Jack
was a kind-hearted lad, and he had saved some crumbs from his dinner in
order to recompense the little sentry for his kindness. So he put his
hand in his pocket and pulled out the crumbs.

"Here you are, mousekin," he said. "That's for your trouble!"

Then the mouse thanked him kindly and asked if he would take him along
to the King of the Frogs.

"Not I," says Jack. "I should get into trouble with your King."

But the mousekin insisted. "I may be of some use to you," it said. So it
ran up the horse's hind leg and up by its tail and hid in Jack's pocket.
And the horse set off at a hard gallop, for it didn't half like the
mouse running over it.

So at last Jack came to the palace of the King of all the Frogs, and
there at the front gate was a frog doing sentry in a fine coat of mail
and a brass helmet. And the frog sentry was for not letting Jack in; but
the mouse called out that they came from the King of all the Mice and
must be let in without delay. So they were taken to the King's chamber,
where he sate surrounded by frog courtiers in fine clothes; but alas!
he had heard nothing of the Castle on golden pillars, and though he
summoned all the frogs of all the world to a Grand Assembly next
morning, they all answered his question with:

  "_Kro kro, Kro kro_"

which every one knows stands for "No" in frog language.

So the King said to Jack, "There remains but one thing. You must go and
ask my eldest brother, the King of all the Birds. His subjects are
always on the wing, so mayhap they have seen something. Leave the horse
you are riding here, and take one of mine. It knows the way, and will
carry you safe."

So Jack set off, and being a kind-hearted lad he gave the frog sentry,
whom he met coming away from his guard, some crumbs he had saved from
his dinner. And the frog asked leave to go with him, and when Jack
refused to take him he just gave one hop on to the stirrup, and a second
hop on to the crupper, and the next hop he was in Jack's other pocket.

Then the horse galloped away like lightning, for it didn't like the
slimy frog coming down "plop" on its back.

Well, after a time, Jack came to the palace of the King of all the
Birds, and there at the front gate were a sparrow and a crow marching up
and down with matchlocks on their shoulders. Now at this Jack laughed
fit to split, and the mouse and the frog from his pockets called out:

"We come from the King! Sirrahs! Let us pass."

So that the sentries were right mazed, and let them pass in without more
ado.

But when they came to the King's chamber, where he sate surrounded by
all manner of birds, tomtits, wrens, cormorants, turtle-doves, and the
like, the King said he was sorry, but he had no news of the missing
Castle. And though he summoned all the birds of all the world to a Grand
Assembly next morning, not one of them had seen or heard tell of it.

So Jack was quite disconsolate till the King said, "But where is the
eagle? I don't see my eagle."

Then the Chamberlain--he was a tomtit--stepped forward with a bow and
said:

"May it please your Majesty he is late."

"Late?" says the King in a fume. "Summon him at once."

So two larks flew up into the sky till they couldn't be seen and sang
ever so loud, till at last the eagle appeared all in a perspiration from
having flown so fast.

Then the King said, "Sirrah! Have you seen a missing Castle that stands
upon twelve pillars of gold?"

And the eagle blinked its eyes and said, "May it please your Majesty
that is where I've been."

Then everybody rejoiced exceedingly, and when the eagle had eaten a
whole calf so as to be strong enough for the journey, he spread his wide
wings, on which Jack stood, with the mouse in one pocket and the frog in
the other, and started to obey the King's order to take the owner back
to his missing Castle as quickly as possible.

And they flew over land and they flew over sea, until at last in the far
distance they saw the Castle standing on its twelve golden pillars. But
all the doors and windows were fast shut and barred, for, see you, the
servant-master who had run away with it had gone out for the day
a-hunting, and he always bolted doors and windows while he was absent
lest some one else should run away with it.

Then Jack was puzzled to think how he should get hold of the golden
snuff-box, until the little mouse said:

"Let me fetch it. There is always a mouse-hole in every castle, so I am
sure I shall be able to get in."

So it went off, and Jack waited on the eagle's wings in a fume; till at
last mousekin appeared.

"Have you got it?" shouted Jack, and the little mousie cried:

                             "Yes!"

So every one rejoiced exceedingly, and they set off back to the palace
of the King of all the Birds, where Jack had left his horse; for now
that he had the golden snuff-box safe he knew he could get the Castle
back whenever he chose to send the three little red men to fetch it. But
on the way over the sea, while Jack, who was dead tired with standing so
long, lay down between the eagle's wings and fell asleep, the mouse and
the eagle fell to quarrelling as to which of them had helped Jack the
most, and they quarrelled so much that at last they laid the case before
the frog. Then the frog, who made a very wise judge, said he must see
the whole affair from the very beginning; so the mouse brought out the
golden snuff-box from Jack's pocket, and began to relate where it had
been found and all about it. Now, at that very moment Jack awoke, kicked
out his leg, and plump went the golden snuff-box down to the very bottom
of the sea!

"I thought my turn would come," said the frog, and went plump in after
it.

Well, they waited, and waited, and waited for three whole days and three
whole nights; but froggie never came up again, and they had just given
him up in despair when his nose showed above the water.

"Have you got it?" they shouted.

"No!" says he, with a great gasp.

"Then what do you want?" they cried in a rage.

"My breath," says froggie, and with that he sinks down again.

Well, they waited two days and two nights more, and at last up comes the
little frog with the golden snuff-box in its mouth.

Then they all rejoiced exceedingly, and the eagle flew ever so fast to
the palace of the King of the Birds.

But alas and alack-a-day! Jack's troubles were not ended; his mother's
malison was still bringing him ill-luck, for the King of the Birds flew
into a fearsome rage because Jack had not brought the Castle of the
golden pillars back with him. And he said that unless he saw it by eight
o'clock next morning Jack's head should come off as a cheat and a liar.

Then Jack being close to death opened the golden snuff-box, and out
tumbled the three little red men in their three little red caps. They
had recovered their tempers and were quite glad to be back with a master
who knew that they would only, as a rule, work under fear of death; for,
see you, the servant-master had been for ever disturbing their sleep
with opening the box to no purpose.

So before the clock struck eight next morning, there was the Castle on
its twelve golden pillars, and the King of the Birds was fine and
pleased, and let Jack take his horse and ride to the palace of the King
of the Frogs. But there exactly the same thing happened, and poor Jack
had to open the snuff-box again and order the Castle to come to the
palace of the King of the Frogs. At this the little red men were a wee
bit cross; but they said they supposed it could not be helped; so,
though they yawned, they brought the Castle all right, and Jack was
allowed to take his horse and go to the palace of the King of all the
Mice in the World. But here the same thing happened, and the little red
men tumbled out of the golden snuff-box in a real rage, and said fellows
might as well have no sleep at all! However, they did as they were
bidden; they brought the Castle of the golden pillars from the palace of
the King of the Frogs to the palace of the King of the Birds, and Jack
was allowed to take his own horse and ride home.

[Illustration: They brought the Castle of the golden pillars]

But the year and a day which he had been allowed was almost gone, and
even his gay young wife, after almost weeping her eyes out after her
handsome young husband, had given up Jack for lost; so every one was
astounded to see him, and not over-pleased either to see him come
without his Castle. Indeed his father-in-law swore with many oaths that
if it were not in its proper place by eight o'clock next morning Jack's
life should be forfeit.

Now this, of course, was exactly what Jack had wanted and intended from
the beginning; because when death was nigh he could open the golden
snuff-box and order about the little red men. But he had opened it so
often of late and they had become so cross that he was in a stew what to
do; whether to give them time to show their temper, or to hustle them
out of it. At last he decided to do half and half. So just as the hands
of the clock were at five minutes to eight he opened the box, and
stopped his ears!

Well! you never heard such a yawning, and scolding, and threatening, and
blustering. What did he mean by it? Why should he take four bites at one
cherry? If he was always in fear of death why didn't he die and have
done with it?

In the midst of all this the tower clock began to whirr--

"Gentlemen!" says Jack--he was really quaking with fear--"do as you are
told."

"For the last time," they shrieked. "We won't stay and serve a master
who thinks he is going to die every day."

And with that they flew out of the window.

                    _AND THEY NEVER CAME BACK._

The golden snuff-box remained empty for evermore.

But when Jack looked out of window there was the Castle in the middle of
the lake on its twelve golden pillars, and there was his young wife ever
so pretty and gay in her nightcap looking out of the window too.

So they lived happily ever after.




TATTERCOATS


In a great Palace by the sea there once dwelt a very rich old lord, who
had neither wife nor children living, only one little granddaughter,
whose face he had never seen in all her life. He hated her bitterly,
because at her birth his favourite daughter died; and when the old nurse
brought him the baby he swore that it might live or die as it liked, but
he would never look on its face as long as it lived.

So he turned his back, and sat by his window looking out over the sea,
and weeping great tears for his lost daughter, till his white hair and
beard grew down over his shoulders and twined round his chair and crept
into the chinks of the floor, and his tears, dropping on to the
window-ledge, wore a channel through the stone, and ran away in a little
river to the great sea. Meanwhile, his granddaughter grew up with no one
to care for her, or clothe her; only the old nurse, when no one was by,
would sometimes give her a dish of scraps from the kitchen, or a torn
petticoat from the rag-bag; while the other servants of the palace would
drive her from the house with blows and mocking words, calling her
"Tattercoats," and pointing to her bare feet and shoulders, till she ran
away, crying, to hide among the bushes.

So she grew up, with little to eat or to wear, spending her days out of
doors, her only companion a crippled gooseherd, who fed his flock of
geese on the common. And this gooseherd was a queer, merry little chap,
and when she was hungry, or cold, or tired, he would play to her so
gaily on his little pipe, that she forgot all her troubles, and would
fall to dancing with his flock of noisy geese for partners.

Now one day people told each other that the King was travelling through
the land, and was to give a great ball to all the lords and ladies of
the country in the town near by, and that the Prince, his only son, was
to choose a wife from amongst the maidens in the company. In due time
one of the royal invitations to the ball was brought to the Palace by
the sea, and the servants carried it up to the old lord, who still sat
by his window, wrapped in his long white hair and weeping into the
little river that was fed by his tears.

But when he heard the King's command, he dried his eyes and bade them
bring shears to cut him loose, for his hair had bound him a fast
prisoner, and he could not move. And then he sent them for rich clothes,
and jewels, which he put on; and he ordered them to saddle the white
horse, with gold and silk, that he might ride to meet the King; but he
quite forgot he had a granddaughter to take to the ball.

Meanwhile Tattercoats sat by the kitchen-door weeping, because she could
not go to see the grand doings. And when the old nurse heard her crying
she went to the Lord of the Palace, and begged him to take his
granddaughter with him to the King's ball.

But he only frowned and told her to be silent; while the servants
laughed and said, "Tattercoats is happy in her rags, playing with the
gooseherd! Let her be--it is all she is fit for."

A second, and then a third time, the old nurse begged him to let the
girl go with him, but she was answered only by black looks and fierce
words, till she was driven from the room by the jeering servants, with
blows and mocking words.

Weeping over her ill-success, the old nurse went to look for
Tattercoats; but the girl had been turned from the door by the cook, and
had run away to tell her friend the gooseherd how unhappy she was
because she could not go to the King's ball.

Now when the gooseherd had listened to her story, he bade her cheer up,
and proposed that they should go together into the town to see the King,
and all the fine things; and when she looked sorrowfully down at her
rags and bare feet he played a note or two upon his pipe, so gay and
merry, that she forgot all about her tears and her troubles, and before
she well knew, the gooseherd had taken her by the hand, and she and he,
and the geese before them, were dancing down the road towards the town.

"Even cripples can dance when they choose," said the gooseherd.

Before they had gone very far a handsome young man, splendidly dressed,
riding up, stopped to ask the way to the castle where the King was
staying, and when he found that they too were going thither, he got off
his horse and walked beside them along the road.

"You seem merry folk," he said, "and will be good company."

"Good company, indeed," said the gooseherd, and played a new tune that
was not a dance.

It was a curious tune, and it made the strange young man stare and stare
and stare at Tattercoats till he couldn't see her rags--till he
couldn't, to tell the truth, see anything but her beautiful face.

Then he said, "You are the most beautiful maiden in the world. Will you
marry me?"

Then the gooseherd smiled to himself, and played sweeter than ever.

But Tattercoats laughed. "Not I," said she; "you would be finely put to
shame, and so would I be, if you took a goose-girl for your wife! Go and
ask one of the great ladies you will see to-night at the King's ball,
and do not flout poor Tattercoats."

But the more she refused him the sweeter the pipe played, and the deeper
the young man fell in love; till at last he begged her to come that
night at twelve to the King's ball, just as she was, with the gooseherd
and his geese, in her torn petticoat and bare feet, and see if he
wouldn't dance with her before the King and the lords and ladies, and
present her to them all, as his dear and honoured bride.

[Illustration: Tattercoats dancing while the gooseherd pipes]

Now at first Tattercoats said she would not; but the gooseherd said,
"Take fortune when it comes, little one."

So when night came, and the hall in the castle was full of light and
music, and the lords and ladies were dancing before the King, just as
the clock struck twelve, Tattercoats and the gooseherd, followed by his
flock of noisy geese, hissing and swaying their heads, entered at the
great doors, and walked straight up the ball-room, while on either side
the ladies whispered, the lords laughed, and the King seated at the far
end stared in amazement.

But as they came in front of the throne Tattercoats' lover rose from
beside the King, and came to meet her. Taking her by the hand, he kissed
her thrice before them all, and turned to the King.

"Father!" he said--for it was the Prince himself--"I have made my
choice, and here is my bride, the loveliest girl in all the land, and
the sweetest as well!"

Before he had finished speaking, the gooseherd had put his pipe to his
lips and played a few notes that sounded like a bird singing far off in
the woods; and as he played Tattercoats' rags were changed to shining
robes sewn with glittering jewels, a golden crown lay upon her golden
hair, and the flock of geese behind her became a crowd of dainty pages,
bearing her long train.

And as the King rose to greet her as his daughter the trumpets sounded
loudly in honour of the new Princess, and the people outside in the
street said to each other:

"Ah! now the Prince has chosen for his wife the loveliest girl in all
the land!"

But the gooseherd was never seen again, and no one knew what became of
him; while the old lord went home once more to his Palace by the sea,
for he could not stay at Court, when he had sworn never to look on his
granddaughter's face.

So there he still sits by his window,--if you could only see him, as you
may some day--weeping more bitterly than ever. And his white hair has
bound him to the stones, and the river of his tears runs away to the
great sea.




THE THREE FEATHERS


Once upon a time there lived a girl who was wooed and married by a man
she never saw; for he came a-courting her after nightfall, and when they
were married he never came home till it was dark, and always left before
dawn.

Still he was good and kind to her, giving her everything her heart could
desire, so she was well content for a while. But, after a bit, some of
her friends, doubtless full of envy for her good luck, began to whisper
that the unseen husband must have something dreadful the matter with him
which made him averse to being seen.

Now from the very beginning the girl had wondered why her lover did not
come a-courting her as other girls' lovers came, openly and by day, and
though, at first, she paid no heed to her neighbours' nods and winks,
she began at last to think there might be something in what they said.
So she determined to see for herself, and one night when she heard her
husband come into her room, she lit her candle suddenly and saw him.

And, lo and behold! he was handsome as handsome; beautiful enough to
make every woman in the world fall in love with him on the spot. But
even as she got her glimpse of him, he changed into a big brown bird
which looked at her with eyes full of anger and blame.

"Because you have done this faithless thing," it said, "you will see me
no more, unless for seven long years and a day you serve for me
faithfully."

And she cried with tears and sobs, "I will serve seven times seven years
and a day if you will only come back. Tell me what I am to do."

Then the bird-husband said, "I will place you in service, and there you
must remain and do good work for seven years and a day, and you must
listen to no man who may seek to beguile you to leave that service. If
you do I will never return."

To this the girl agreed, and the bird, spreading its broad brown wings,
carried her to a big mansion.

"Here they need a laundry-maid," said the bird-husband. "Go in, ask to
see the mistress, and say you will do the work; but remember you must do
it for seven years and a day."

"But I cannot do it for seven days," answered the girl. "I cannot wash
or iron."

"That matters nothing," replied the bird. "All you have to do is to
pluck three feathers from under my wing close to my heart, and these
feathers will do your bidding whatever it may be. You will only have to
put them on your hand, and say, 'By virtue of these three feathers from
over my true love's heart may this be done,' and it will be done."

So the girl plucked three feathers from under the bird's wing, and after
that the bird flew away.

Then the girl did as she was bidden, and the lady of the house engaged
her for the place. And never was such a quick laundress; for, see you,
she had only to go into the wash-house, bolt the door and close the
shutters, so that no one should see what she was at; then she would out
with the three feathers and say, "By virtue of these three feathers from
over my true love's heart may the copper be lit, the clothes sorted,
washed, boiled, dried, folded, mangled, ironed," and lo! there they came
tumbling on to the table, clean and white, quite ready to be put away.
So her mistress set great store by her and said there never was such a
good laundry-maid. Thus four years passed and there was no talk of her
leaving. But the other servants grew jealous of her, all the more so,
because, being a very pretty girl, all the men-servants fell in love
with her and wanted to marry her.

But she would have none of them, because she was always waiting and
longing for the day when her bird-husband would come back to her in
man's form.

Now one of the men who wanted her was the stout butler, and one day as
he was coming back from the cider-house he chanced to stop by the
laundry, and he heard a voice say, "By virtue of these three feathers
from over my true love's heart may the copper be lit, the clothes
sorted, boiled, dried, folded, mangled, and ironed."

He thought this very queer, so he peeped through the keyhole. And there
was the girl sitting at her ease in a chair, while all the clothes came
flying to the table ready and fit to put away.

Well, that night he went to the girl and said that if she turned up her
nose at him and his proposal any longer, he would up and tell the
mistress that her fine laundress was nothing but a witch; and then, even
if she were not burnt alive, she would lose her place.

Now the girl was in great distress what to do, since if she were not
faithful to her bird-husband, or if she failed to serve her seven years
and a day in one service, he would alike fail to return; so she made an
excuse by saying she could think of no one who did not give her enough
money to satisfy her.

At this the stout butler laughed. "Money?" said he. "I have seventy
pounds laid by with master. Won't that satisfy thee?"

"Happen it would," she replied.

So the very next night the butler came to her with the seventy pounds in
golden sovereigns, and she held out her apron and took them, saying she
was content; for she had thought of a plan. Now as they were going
upstairs together she stopped and said:

"Mr. Butler, excuse me for a minute. I have left the shutters of the
wash-house open, and I must shut them, or they will be banging all night
and disturb master and missus!"

Now though the butler was stout and beginning to grow old, he was
anxious to seem young and gallant; so he said at once:

"Excuse me, my beauty, you shall not go. I will go and shut them. I
shan't be a moment!"

So off he set, and no sooner had he gone than she out with her three
feathers, and putting them on her hand, said in a hurry:

"By virtue of the three feathers from over my true love's heart may the
shutters never cease banging till morning, and may Mr. Butler's hands be
busy trying to shut them."

And so it happened.

Mr. Butler shut the shutters, but--bru-u-u! there they were hanging open
again. Then he shut them once more, and this time they hit him on the
face as they flew open. Yet he couldn't stop; he had to go on. So there
he was the whole livelong night. Such a cursing, and banging, and
swearing, and shutting, never was, until dawn came, and, too tired to be
really angry, he crept back to his bed, resolving that come what might
he would not tell what had happened to him and thus get the laugh on
him. So he kept his own counsel, and the girl kept the seventy pounds,
and laughed in her sleeve at her would-be lover.

Now after a time the coachman, a spruce middle-aged man, who had long
wanted to marry the clever, pretty laundry-maid, going to the pump to
get water for his horses overheard her giving orders to the three
feathers, and peeping through the keyhole as the butler had done, saw
her sitting at her ease in a chair while the clothes, all washed and
ironed and mangled, came flying to the table.

So, just as the butler had done, he went to the girl and said, "I have
you now, my pretty. Don't dare to turn up your nose at me, for if you do
I'll tell mistress you are a witch."

Then the girl said quite calmly, "I look on none who has no money."

"If that is all," replied the coachman, "I have forty pounds laid by
with master. That I'll bring and ask for payment to-morrow night."

So when the night came the girl held out her apron for the money, and as
she was going up the stairs she stopped suddenly and said, "Goody me!
I've left my clothes on the line. Stop a bit till I fetch them in."

Now the coachman was really a very polite fellow, so he said at once:

"Let me go. It is a cold, windy night and you'll be catching your
death."

So off he went, and the girl out with her feathers and said:

"By virtue of the three feathers from over my true love's heart may the
clothes slash and blow about till dawn, and may Mr. Coachman not be able
to gather them up or take his hand from the job."

And when she had said this she went quietly to bed, for she knew what
would happen. And sure enough it did. Never was such a night as Mr.
Coachman spent with the wet clothes flittering and fluttering about his
ears, and the sheets wrapping him into a bundle, and tripping him up,
while the towels slashed at his legs. But though he smarted all over he
had to go on till dawn came, and then a very weary, woebegone coachman
couldn't even creep away to his bed, for he had to feed and water his
horses! And he, also, kept his own counsel for fear of the laugh going
against him; so the clever laundry-maid put the forty pounds with the
seventy in her box, and went on with her work gaily. But after a time
the footman, who was quite an honest lad and truly in love, going by the
laundry peeped through the keyhole to get a glimpse of his dearest dear,
and what should he see but her sitting at her ease in a chair, and the
clothes coming all ready folded and ironed on to the table.

Now when he saw this he was greatly troubled. So he went to his master
and drew out all his savings; and then he went to the girl and told her
that he would have to tell the mistress what he had seen, unless she
consented to marry him.

"You see," he said, "I have been with master this while back, and have
saved up this bit, and you have been here this long while back and must
have saved as well. So let us put the two together and make a home, or
else stay on at service as pleases you."

Well, she tried to put him off; but he insisted so much that at last she
said:

"James! there's a dear, run down to the cellar and fetch me a drop of
brandy. You've made me feel so queer!" And when he had gone she out
with her three feathers, and said, "By virtue of the three feathers from
over my true love's heart may James not be able to pour the brandy
straight, except down his throat."

Well! so it happened. Try as he would, James could not get the brandy
into the glass. It splashed a few drops into it, then it trickled over
his hand, and fell on the floor. And so it went on and on till he grew
so tired that he thought he needed a dram himself. So he tossed off the
few drops and began again; but he fared no better. So he took another
little drain, and went on, and on, and on, till he got quite fuddled.
And who should come down into the cellar but his master to know what the
smell of brandy meant!

Now James the footman was truthful as well as honest, so he told the
master how he had come down to get the sick laundry-maid a drop of
brandy, but that his hand had shaken so that he could not pour it out,
and it had fallen on the ground, and that the smell of it had got to his
head.

"A likely tale," said the master, and beat James soundly.

Then the master went to the mistress, his wife, and said: "Send away
that laundry-maid of yours. Something has come over my men. They have
all drawn out their savings as if they were going to be married, yet
they don't leave, and I believe that girl is at the bottom of it."

But his wife would not hear of the laundry-maid being blamed; she was
the best servant in the house, and worth all the rest of them put
together; it was his men who were at fault. So they quarrelled over it;
but in the end the master gave in, and after this there was peace, since
the mistress bade the girl keep herself to herself, and none of the men
would say ought of what had happened for fear of the laughter of the
other servants.

So it went on until one day when the master was going a-driving, the
coach was at the door, and the footman was standing to hold the coach
open, and the butler on the steps all ready, when who should pass
through the yard, so saucy and bright with a great basket of clean
clothes, but the laundry-maid. And the sight of her was too much for
James, the footman, who began to blub.

"She is a wicked girl," he said. "She got all my savings, and got me a
good thrashing besides."

Then the coachman grew bold. "Did she?" he said. "That was nothing to
what she served me." So he up and told all about the wet clothes and the
awful job he had had the livelong night. Now the butler on the steps
swelled with rage until he nearly burst, and at last he out with his
night of banging shutters.

"And one," he said, "hit me on the nose."

This settled the three men, and they agreed to tell their master the
moment he came out, and get the girl sent about her business. Now the
laundry-maid had sharp ears and had paused behind a door to listen; so
when she heard this she knew she must do something to stop it. So she
out with her three feathers and said, "By virtue of the three feathers
from over my true love's heart may there be striving as to who suffered
most between the men so that they get into the pond for a ducking."

Well! no sooner had she said the words than the three men began
disputing as to which of them had been served the worst; then James up
and hit the stout butler, giving him a black eye, and the fat butler
fell upon James and pommelled him hard, while the coachman scrambled
from his box and belaboured them both, and the laundry-maid stood by
laughing.

So out comes the master, but none of them would listen, and each wanted
to be heard, and fought, and shoved, and pommelled away until they
shoved each other into the pond, and all got a fine ducking.

Then the master asked the girl what it was all about, and she said:

"They all wanted to tell a story against me because I won't marry them,
and one said his was the best, and the next said his was the best, so
they fell a-quarrelling as to which was the likeliest story to get me
into trouble. But they are well punished, so there is no need to do
more."

Then the master went to his wife and said, "You are right. That
laundry-maid of yours is a very wise girl."

So the butler and the coachman and James had nothing to do but look
sheepish and hold their tongues, and the laundry-maid went on with her
duties without further trouble.

Then when the seven years and a day were over, who should drive up to
the door in a fine gilded coach but the bird-husband restored to his
shape as a handsome young man. And he carried the laundry-maid off to be
his wife again, and her master and mistress were so pleased at her good
fortune that they ordered all the other servants to stand on the steps
and give her good luck. So as she passed the butler she put a bag with
seventy pounds in it into his hand and said sweetly, "That is to
recompense you for shutting the shutters."

And when she passed the coachman she put a bag with forty pounds into
his hand and said, "That is your reward for bringing in the clothes."
But when she passed the footman she gave him a bag with a hundred pounds
in it, and laughed, saying, "That is for the drop of brandy you never
brought me!"

So she drove off with her handsome husband, and lived happy ever after.




LAZY JACK


Once upon a time there was a boy whose name was Jack, and he lived with
his mother on a common. They were very poor, and the old woman got her
living by spinning, but Jack was so lazy that he would do nothing but
bask in the sun in the hot weather, and sit by the corner of the hearth
in the winter-time. So they called him Lazy Jack. His mother could not
get him to do anything for her, and at last told him, one Monday, that
if he did not begin to work for his porridge she would turn him out to
get his living as he could.

This roused Jack, and he went out and hired himself for the next day to
a neighbouring farmer for a penny; but as he was coming home, never
having had any money before, he lost it in passing over a brook.

"You stupid boy," said his mother, "you should have put it in your
pocket."

"I'll do so another time," replied Jack.

Well, the next day, Jack went out again and hired himself to a
cowkeeper, who gave him a jar of milk for his day's work. Jack took the
jar and put it into the large pocket of his jacket, spilling it all,
long before he got home.

"Dear me!" said the old woman; "you should have carried it on your
head."

"I'll do so another time," said Jack.

So the following day, Jack hired himself again to a farmer, who agreed
to give him a cream cheese for his services. In the evening Jack took
the cheese, and went home with it on his head. By the time he got home
the cheese was all spoilt, part of it being lost, and part matted with
his hair.

"You stupid lout," said his mother, "you should have carried it very
carefully in your hands."

"I'll do so another time," replied Jack.

Now the next day, Lazy Jack again went out, and hired himself to a
baker, who would give him nothing for his work but a large tom-cat. Jack
took the cat, and began carrying it very carefully in his hands, but in
a short time pussy scratched him so much that he was compelled to let it
go.

When he got home, his mother said to him, "You silly fellow, you should
have tied it with a string, and dragged it along after you."

"I'll do so another time," said Jack.

So on the following day, Jack hired himself to a butcher, who rewarded
him by the handsome present of a shoulder of mutton. Jack took the
mutton, tied it with a string, and trailed it along after him in the
dirt, so that by the time he had got home the meat was completely
spoilt. His mother was this time quite out of patience with him, for the
next day was Sunday, and she was obliged to do with cabbage for her
dinner.

[Illustration: Jack found it hard to hoist the donkey on his shoulders]

"You ninney-hammer," said she to her son, "you should have carried it on
your shoulder."

"I'll do so another time," replied Jack.

Well, on the Monday, Lazy Jack went once more and hired himself to a
cattle-keeper, who gave him a donkey for his trouble. Now though Jack
was strong he found it hard to hoist the donkey on his shoulders, but at
last he did it, and began walking home slowly with his prize. Now it so
happened that in the course of his journey he passed a house where a
rich man lived with his only daughter, a beautiful girl, who was deaf
and dumb. And she had never laughed in her life, and the doctors said
she would never speak till somebody made her laugh. So the father had
given out that any man who made her laugh would receive her hand in
marriage. Now this young lady happened to be looking out of the window
when Jack was passing by with the donkey on his shoulders; and the poor
beast with its legs sticking up in the air was kicking violently and
heehawing with all its might. Well, the sight was so comical that she
burst out into a great fit of laughter, and immediately recovered her
speech and hearing. Her father was overjoyed, and fulfilled his promise
by marrying her to Lazy Jack, who was thus made a rich gentleman. They
lived in a large house, and Jack's mother lived with them in great
happiness until she died.




[Illustration: The giant Cormoran was the terror of all the country-side]

JACK THE GIANT-KILLER


I

When good King Arthur reigned with Guinevere his Queen, there lived,
near the Land's End in Cornwall, a farmer who had one only son called
Jack. Now Jack was brisk and ready; of such a lively wit that none nor
nothing could worst him.

In those days, the Mount of St. Michael in Cornwall was the fastness of
a hugeous giant whose name was Cormoran.

He was full eighteen feet in height, some three yards about his middle,
of a grim fierce face, and he was the terror of all the country-side. He
lived in a cave amidst the rocky Mount, and when he desired victuals he
would wade across the tides to the mainland and furnish himself forth
with all that came in his way. The poor folk and the rich folk alike ran
out of their houses and hid themselves when they heard the swish-swash
of his big feet in the water; for if he saw them, he would think nothing
of broiling half-a-dozen or so of them for breakfast. As it was, he
seized their cattle by the score, carrying off half-a-dozen fat oxen on
his back at a time, and hanging sheep and pigs to his waistbelt like
bunches of dip-candles. Now this had gone on for long years, and the
poor folk of Cornwall were in despair, for none could put an end to the
giant Cormoran.

It so happened that one market day Jack, then quite a young lad, found
the town upside down over some new exploit of the giant's. Women were
weeping, men were cursing, and the magistrates were sitting in Council
over what was to be done. But none could suggest a plan. Then Jack,
blithe and gay, went up to the magistrates, and with a fine
courtesy--for he was ever polite--asked them what reward would be given
to him who killed the giant Cormoran.

"The treasures of the Giant's Cave," quoth they.

"Every whit of it?" quoth Jack, who was never to be done.

"To the last farthing," quoth they.

"Then will I undertake the task," said Jack, and forthwith set about the
business.

It was winter-time, and having got himself a horn, a pickaxe, and a
shovel, he went over to the Mount in the dark evening, set to work, and
before dawn he had dug a pit, no less than twenty-two feet deep and nigh
as big across. This he covered with long thin sticks and straw,
sprinkling a little loose mould over all to make it look like solid
ground. So, just as dawn was breaking, he planted himself fair and
square on the side of the pit that was farthest from the giant's cave,
raised the horn to his lips, and with full blast sounded:

                    "Tantivy! Tantivy! Tantivy!"

just as he would have done had he been hunting a fox.

Of course this woke the giant, who rushed in a rage out of his cave, and
seeing little Jack, fair and square blowing away at his horn, as calm
and cool as may be, he became still more angry, and made for the
disturber of his rest, bawling out, "I'll teach you to wake a giant, you
little whipper-snapper. You shall pay dearly for your tantivys, I'll
take you and broil you whole for break--"

He had only got as far as this when crash--he fell into the pit! So
there was a break indeed; such an one that it caused the very
foundations of the Mount to shake.

But Jack shook with laughter. "Ho, ho!" he cried, "how about breakfast
now, Sir Giant? Will you have me broiled or baked? And will no diet
serve you but poor little Jack? Faith! I've got you in Lob's pound now!
You're in the stocks for bad behaviour, and I'll plague you as I like.
Would I had rotten eggs; but this will do as well." And with that he up
with his pickaxe and dealt the giant Cormoran such a most weighty knock
on the very crown of his head, that he killed him on the spot.

Whereupon Jack calmly filled up the pit with earth again and went to
search the cave, where he found much treasure.

Now when the magistrates heard of Jack's great exploit, they proclaimed
that henceforth he should be known as--

JACK THE GIANT-KILLER.

And they presented him with a sword and belt, on which these words were
embroidered in gold:

  Here's the valiant Cornishman
  Who slew the giant Cormoran.


II

Of course the news of Jack's victory soon spread over all England, so
that another giant named Blunderbore who lived to the north, hearing of
it, vowed if ever he came across Jack he would be revenged upon him. Now
this giant Blunderbore was lord of an enchanted castle that stood in the
middle of a lonesome forest.

It so happened that Jack, about four months after he had killed
Cormoran, had occasion to journey into Wales, and on the road he passed
this forest. Weary with walking, and finding a pleasant fountain by the
wayside, he lay down to rest and was soon fast asleep.

Now the giant Blunderbore, coming to the well for water, found Jack
sleeping, and knew by the lines embroidered on his belt that here was
the far-famed giant-killer. Rejoiced at his luck, the giant, without
more ado, lifted Jack to his shoulder and began to carry him through the
wood to the enchanted castle.

But the rustling of the boughs awakened Jack, who, finding himself
already in the clutches of the giant, was terrified; nor was his alarm
decreased by seeing the courtyard of the castle all strewn with men's
bones.

"Yours will be with them ere long," said Blunderbore as he locked poor
Jack into an immense chamber above the castle gateway. It had a
high-pitched, beamed roof, and one window that looked down the road.
Here poor Jack was to stay while Blunderbore went to fetch his
brother-giant, who lived in the same wood, that he might share in the
feast.

Now, after a time, Jack, watching through the window, saw the two giants
tramping hastily down the road, eager for their dinner.

"Now," quoth Jack to himself, "my death or my deliverance is at hand."
For he had thought out a plan. In one corner of the room he had seen two
strong cords. These he took, and making a cunning noose at the end of
each, he hung them out of the window, and, as the giants were unlocking
the iron door of the gate, managed to slip them over their heads without
their noticing it. Then, quick as thought, he tied the other ends to a
beam, so that as the giants moved on the nooses tightened and throttled
them until they grew black in the face. Seeing this, Jack slid down the
ropes, and drawing his sword, slew them both.

So, taking the keys of the castle, he unlocked all the doors and set
free three beauteous ladies who, tied by the hair of their heads, he
found almost starved to death. "Sweet ladies," quoth Jack, kneeling on
one knee--for he was ever polite--"here are the keys of this enchanted
castle. I have destroyed the giant Blunderbore and his brutish brother,
and thus have restored to you your liberty. These keys should bring you
all else you require."

So saying he proceeded on his journey to Wales.


III

He travelled as fast as he could; perhaps too fast, for, losing his way,
he found himself benighted and far from any habitation. He wandered on
always in hopes, until on entering a narrow valley he came on a very
large, dreary-looking house standing alone. Being anxious for shelter he
went up to the door and knocked. You may imagine his surprise and alarm
when the summons was answered by a giant with two heads. But though this
monster's look was exceedingly fierce, his manners were quite polite;
the truth being that he was a Welsh giant, and as such double-faced and
smooth, given to gaining his malicious ends by a show of false
friendship.

So he welcomed Jack heartily in a strong Welsh accent, and prepared a
bedroom for him, where he was left with kind wishes for a good rest.
Jack, however, was too tired to sleep well, and as he lay awake, he
overheard his host muttering to himself in the next room. Having very
keen ears he was able to make out these words, or something like them:

  "Though here you lodge with me this night,
   You shall not see the morning light.
   My club shall dash your brains outright."

"Say'st thou so!" quoth Jack to himself, starting up at once, "So that
is your Welsh trick, is it? But I will be even with you." Then, leaving
his bed, he laid a big billet of wood among the blankets, and taking one
of these to keep himself warm, made himself snug in a corner of the
room, pretending to snore, so as to make Mr. Giant think he was asleep.

And sure enough, after a little time, in came the monster on tiptoe as
if treading on eggs, and carrying a big club. Then--

  WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

Jack could hear the bed being belaboured until the Giant, thinking every
bone of his guest's skin must be broken, stole out of the room again;
whereupon Jack went calmly to bed once more and slept soundly! Next
morning the giant couldn't believe his eyes when he saw Jack coming down
the stairs fresh and hearty.

"Odds splutter hur nails!" he cried, astonished. "Did she sleep well?
Was there not nothing felt in the night?"

"Oh," replied Jack, laughing in his sleeve, "I think a rat did come and
give me two or three flaps of his tail."

[Illustration: Taking the keys of the castle, Jack unlocked all the doors]

[Illustration: "Odds splutter hur nails!" cried the giant, not to be
outdone. "Hur can do that hurself!"]

On this the giant was dumbfoundered, and led Jack to breakfast, bringing
him a bowl which held at least four gallons of hasty-pudding, and
bidding him, as a man of such mettle, eat the lot. Now Jack when
travelling wore under his cloak a leathern bag to carry his things
withal; so, quick as thought, he hitched this round in front with the
opening just under his chin; thus, as he ate, he could slip the best
part of the pudding into it without the giant's being any the wiser. So
they sate down to breakfast, the giant gobbling down his own measure of
hasty-pudding, while Jack made away with his.

"See," says crafty Jack when he had finished. "I'll show you a trick
worth two of yours," and with that he up with a carving-knife and,
ripping up the leathern bag, out fell all the hasty-pudding on the
floor!

"Odds splutter hur nails!" cried the giant, not to be outdone. "Hur can
do that hurself!" Whereupon he seized the carving-knife, and ripping
open his own belly fell down dead.

Thus was Jack quit of the Welsh giant.


IV

Now it so happened that in those days, when gallant knights were always
seeking adventures, King Arthur's only son, a very valiant Prince,
begged of his father a large sum of money to enable him to journey to
Wales, and there strive to set free a certain beautiful lady who was
possessed by seven evil spirits. In vain the King denied him; so at last
he gave way and the Prince set out with two horses, one of which he
rode, the other laden with gold pieces. Now after some days' journey the
Prince came to a market-town in Wales where there was a great commotion.
On asking the reason for it he was told that, according to law, the
corpse of a very generous man had been arrested on its way to the grave,
because, in life, it had owed large sums to the money-lenders.

"That is a cruel law," said the young Prince. "Go, bury the dead in
peace, and let the creditors come to my lodgings; I will pay the debts
of the dead."

So the creditors came, but they were so numerous that by evening the
Prince had but twopence left for himself, and could not go further on
his journey.

Now it so happened that Jack the Giant-Killer on his way to Wales passed
through the town, and, hearing of the Prince's plight, was so taken with
his kindness and generosity that he determined to be the Prince's
servant. So this was agreed upon, and next morning, after Jack had paid
the reckoning with his last farthing, the two set out together. But as
they were leaving the town, an old woman ran after the Prince and called
out, "Justice! Justice! The dead man owed me twopence these seven years.
Pay me as well as the others."

And the Prince, kind and generous, put his hand to his pocket and gave
the old woman the twopence that was left to him. So now they had not a
penny between them, and when the sun grew low the Prince said:

"Jack! Since we have no money, how are we to get a night's lodging?"

Then Jack replied, "We shall do well enough, Master; for within two or
three miles of this place there lives a huge and monstrous giant with
three heads, who can fight four hundred men in armour and make them fly
from him like chaff before the wind."

"And what good will that be to us?" quoth the Prince. "He will for sure
chop us up in a mouthful."

"Nay," said Jack, laughing. "Let me go and prepare the way for you. By
all accounts this giant is a dolt. Mayhap I may manage better than
that."

So the Prince remained where he was, and Jack pricked his steed at full
speed till he came to the giant's castle, at the gate of which he
knocked so loud that he made the neighbouring hills resound.

On this the giant roared from within in a voice like thunder:

"Who's there?"

Then said Jack as bold as brass, "None but your poor cousin Jack."

"Cousin Jack!" quoth the giant, astounded. "And what news with my poor
cousin Jack?" For, see you, he was quite taken aback; so Jack made haste
to reassure him.

"Dear coz, heavy news, God wot!"

"Heavy news," echoed the giant, half afraid. "God wot, no heavy news can
come to me. Have I not three heads? Can I not fight five hundred men in
armour? Can I not make them fly like chaff before the wind?"

"True," replied crafty Jack, "but I came to warn you because the great
King Arthur's son with a thousand men in armour is on his way to kill
you."

At this the giant began to shiver and to shake. "Ah! Cousin Jack! Kind
cousin Jack! This is heavy news indeed," quoth he. "Tell me, what am I
to do?"

[Illustration: "Ah! Cousin Jack! Kind cousin Jack! This is heavy news
indeed"]

"Hide yourself in the vault," says crafty Jack, "and I will lock and
bolt and bar you in; and keep the key till the Prince has gone. So you
will be safe."

Then the giant made haste and ran down into the vault, and Jack locked,
and bolted, and barred him in. Then being thus secure, he went and
fetched his master, and the two made themselves heartily merry over what
the giant was to have had for supper, while the miserable monster
shivered and shook with fright in the underground vault.

Well, after a good night's rest Jack woke his master in early morn, and
having furnished him well with gold and silver from the giant's
treasure, bade him ride three miles forward on his journey. So when Jack
judged that the Prince was pretty well out of the smell of the giant,
he took the key and let his prisoner out. He was half dead with cold and
damp, but very grateful; and he begged Jack to let him know what he
would be given as a reward for saving the giant's life and castle from
destruction, and he should have it.

"You're very welcome," said Jack, who always had his eyes about him.
"All I want is the old coat and cap, together with the rusty old sword
and slippers which are at your bed-head."

When the giant heard this he sighed and shook his head. "You don't know
what you are asking," quoth he. "They are the most precious things I
possess, but as I have promised, you must have them. The coat will make
you invisible, the cap will tell you all you want to know, the sword
will cut asunder whatever you strike, and the slippers will take you
wherever you want to go in the twinkling of an eye!"

So Jack, overjoyed, rode away with the coat and cap, the sword and the
slippers, and soon overtook his master; and they rode on together until
they reached the castle where the beautiful lady lived whom the Prince
sought.

Now she was very beautiful, for all she was possessed of seven devils,
and when she heard the Prince sought her as a suitor, she smiled and
ordered a splendid banquet to be prepared for his reception. And she
sate on his right hand, and plied him with food and drink.

And when the repast was over she took out her own handkerchief and
wiped his lips gently, and said, with a smile:

"I have a task for you, my lord! You must show me that kerchief
to-morrow morning or lose your head."

And with that she put the handkerchief in her bosom and said,
"Good-night!"

The Prince was in despair, but Jack said nothing till his master was in
bed. Then he put on the old cap he had got from the giant, and lo! in a
minute he knew all that he wanted to know. So, in the dead of the night,
when the beautiful lady called on one of her familiar spirits to carry
her to Lucifer himself, Jack was beforehand with her, and putting on his
coat of darkness and his slippers of swiftness, was there as soon as she
was. And when she gave the handkerchief to the Devil, bidding him keep
it safe, and he put it away on a high shelf, Jack just up and nipped it
away in a trice!

So the next morning, when the beauteous enchanted lady looked to see the
Prince crestfallen, he just made a fine bow and presented her with the
handkerchief.

At first she was terribly disappointed, but, as the day drew on, she
ordered another and still more splendid repast to be got ready. And this
time, when the repast was over, she kissed the Prince full on the lips
and said:

"I have a task for you, my lover. Show me to-morrow morning the last
lips I kiss to-night or you lose your head."

Then the Prince, who by this time was head over ears in love, said
tenderly, "If you will kiss none but mine, I will." Now the beauteous
lady, for all she was possessed by seven devils, could not but see that
the Prince was a very handsome young man; so she blushed a little, and
said:

"That is neither here nor there: you must show me them, or death is your
portion."

So the Prince went to his bed, sorrowful as before; but Jack put on the
cap of knowledge and knew in a moment all he wanted to know.

Thus when, in the dead of the night, the beauteous lady called on her
familiar spirit to take her to Lucifer himself, Jack in his coat of
darkness and his shoes of swiftness was there before her.

"Thou hast betrayed me once," said the beauteous lady to Lucifer,
frowning, "by letting go my handkerchief. Now will I give thee something
none can steal, and so best the Prince, King's son though he be."

With that she kissed the loathly demon full on the lips, and left him.
Whereupon Jack with one blow of the rusty sword of strength cut off
Lucifer's head, and, hiding it under his coat of darkness, brought it
back to his master.

Thus next morning when the beauteous lady, with malice in her beautiful
eyes, asked the Prince to show her the lips she had last kissed, he
pulled out the demon's head by the horns. On that the seven devils,
which possessed the poor lady, gave seven dreadful shrieks and left her.
Thus the enchantment being broken, she appeared in all her perfect
beauty and goodness.

So she and the Prince were married the very next morning. After which
they journeyed back to the court of King Arthur, where Jack the
Giant-Killer, for his many exploits, was made one of the Knights of the
Round Table.


V

This, however, did not satisfy our hero, who was soon on the road again
searching for giants. Now he had not gone far when he came upon one,
seated on a huge block of timber near the entrance to a dark cave. He
was a most terrific giant. His goggle eyes were as coals of fire, his
countenance was grim and gruesome; his cheeks, like huge flitches of
bacon, were covered with a stubbly beard, the bristles of which
resembled rods of iron wire, while the locks of hair that fell on his
brawny shoulders showed like curled snakes or hissing adders. He held a
knotted iron club, and breathed so heavily you could hear him a mile
away. Nothing daunted by this fearsome sight, Jack alighted from his
horse and, putting on his coat of darkness, went close up to the giant
and said softly: "Hullo! is that you? It will not be long before I have
you fast by your beard."

[Illustration: Seated on a huge block of timber near the entrance to a
dark cave]

So saying he made a cut with the sword of strength at the giant's head,
but, somehow, missing his aim, cut off the nose instead, clean as a
whistle! My goodness! How the giant roared! It was like claps of
thunder, and he began to lay about him with the knotted iron club, like
one possessed. But Jack in his coat of darkness easily dodged the
blows, and running in behind, drove the sword up to the hilt into the
giant's back, so that he fell stone dead.

Jack then cut off the head and sent it to King Arthur by a waggoner whom
he hired for the purpose. After which he began to search the giant's
cave to find his treasure. He passed through many windings and turnings
until he came to a huge hall paved and roofed with freestone. At the
upper end of this was an immense fireplace where hung an iron cauldron,
the like of which, for size, Jack had never seen before. It was boiling
and gave out a savoury steam; while beside it, on the right hand, stood
a big massive table set out with huge platters and mugs. Here it was
that the giants used to dine. Going a little further he came upon a
sort of window barred with iron, and looking within beheld a vast number
of miserable captives.

"Alas! Alack!" they cried on seeing him. "Art come, young man, to join
us in this dreadful prison?"

"That depends," quoth Jack: "but first tell me wherefore you are thus
held imprisoned?"

"Through no fault," they cried at once. "We are captives of the cruel
giants and are kept here and well nourished until such time as the
monsters desire a feast. Then they choose the fattest and sup off them."

On hearing this Jack straightway unlocked the door of the prison and set
the poor fellows free. Then, searching the giants' coffers, he divided
the gold and silver equally amongst the captives as some redress for
their sufferings, and taking them to a neighbouring castle gave them a
right good feast.


VI

Now as they were all making merry over their deliverance, and praising
Jack's prowess, a messenger arrived to say that one Thunderdell, a huge
giant with two heads, having heard of the death of his kinsman, was on
his way from the northern dales to be revenged, and was already within a
mile or two of the castle, the country folk with their flocks and herds
flying before him like chaff before the wind.

[Illustration: On his way ... to be revenged]

Now the castle with its gardens stood on a small island that was
surrounded by a moat twenty feet wide and thirty feet deep, having very
steep sides. And this moat was spanned by a drawbridge. This, without a
moment's delay, Jack ordered should be sawn on both sides at the middle,
so as to only leave one plank uncut over which he in his invisible coat
of darkness passed swiftly to meet his enemy, bearing in his hand the
wonderful sword of strength.

Now though the giant could not, of course, see Jack, he could smell him,
for giants have keen noses. Therefore Thunderdell cried out in a voice
like his name:

  "Fee, fi, fo, fum!
   I smell the blood of an Englishman.
   Be he alive, or be he dead,
   I'll grind his bones to make my bread!"

[Illustration: The country folk flying before him like chaff before the
wind]

"Is that so?" quoth Jack, cheerful as ever. "Then art thou a monstrous
miller for sure!"

On this the giant, peering round everywhere for a glimpse of his foe,
shouted out:

"Art thou, indeed, the villain who hath killed so many of my kinsmen?
Then, indeed, will I tear thee to pieces with my teeth, suck thy blood,
and grind thy bones to powder."

"Thou'lt have to catch me first," quoth Jack, laughing, and throwing off
his coat of darkness and putting on his slippers of swiftness, he began
nimbly to lead the giant a pretty dance, he leaping and doubling light
as a feather, the monster following heavily like a walking tower, so
that the very foundations of the earth seemed to shake at every step.
At this game the onlookers nearly split their sides with laughter, until
Jack, judging there had been enough of it, made for the drawbridge, ran
neatly over the single plank, and reaching the other side waited in
teasing fashion for his adversary.

On came the giant at full speed, foaming at the mouth with rage, and
flourishing his club. But when he came to the middle of the bridge his
great weight, of course, broke the plank, and there he was fallen
headlong into the moat, rolling and wallowing like a whale, plunging
from place to place, yet unable to get out and be revenged.

The spectators greeted his efforts with roars of laughter, and Jack
himself was at first too overcome with merriment to do more than scoff.
At last, however, he went for a rope, cast it over the giant's two
heads, so, with the help of a team of horses, drew them shorewards,
where two blows from the sword of strength settled the matter.


VII

After some time spent in mirth and pastimes, Jack began once more to
grow restless, and taking leave of his companions set out for fresh
adventures.

He travelled far and fast, through woods, and vales, and hills, till at
last he came, late at night, on a lonesome house set at the foot of a
high mountain. Knocking at the door, it was opened by an old man whose
head was white as snow.

"Father," said Jack, ever courteous, "can you lodge a benighted
traveller?"

"Ay, that will I, and welcome to my poor cottage," replied the old man.

Whereupon Jack came in, and after supper they sate together chatting in
friendly fashion. Then it was that the old man, seeing by Jack's belt
that he was the famous Giant-Killer, spoke in this wise:

"My son! You are the great conqueror of evil monsters. Now close by
there lives one well worthy of your prowess. On the top of yonder high
hill is an enchanted castle kept by a giant named Galligantua, who, by
the help of a wicked old magician, inveigles many beautiful ladies and
valiant knights into the castle, where they are transformed into all
sorts of birds and beasts, yea, even into fishes and insects. There they
live pitiably in confinement; but most of all do I grieve for a duke's
daughter whom they kidnapped in her father's garden, bringing her hither
in a burning chariot drawn by fiery dragons. Her form is that of a white
hind; and though many valiant knights have tried their utmost to break
the spell and work her deliverance, none have succeeded; for, see you,
at the entrance to the castle are two dreadful griffins who destroy
every one who attempts to pass them by."

Now Jack bethought him of the coat of darkness which had served him so
well before, and he put on the cap of knowledge, and in an instant he
knew what had to be done. Then the very next morning, at dawn-time, Jack
arose and put on his invisible coat and his slippers of swiftness. And
in the twinkling of an eye there he was on the top of the mountain! And
there were the two griffins guarding the castle gates--horrible
creatures with forked tails and tongues. But they could not see him
because of the coat of darkness, so he passed them by unharmed.

And hung to the doors of the gateway he found a golden trumpet on a
silver chain, and beneath it was engraved in red lettering:

  Whoever shall this trumpet blow
  Will cause the giant's overthrow.
  The black enchantment he will break,
  And gladness out of sadness make.

No sooner had Jack read these words than he put the horn to his lips and
blew a loud

                "Tantivy! Tantivy! Tantivy!"

Now at the very first note the castle trembled to its vast foundations,
and before he had finished the measure, both the giant and the magician
were biting their thumbs and tearing their hair, knowing that their
wickedness must now come to an end. But the giant showed fight and took
up his club to defend himself; whereupon Jack, with one clean cut of the
sword of strength, severed his head from his body, and would doubtless
have done the same to the magician, but that the latter was a coward,
and, calling up a whirlwind, was swept away by it into the air, nor
has he ever been seen or heard of since. The enchantments being thus
broken, all the valiant knights and beautiful ladies, who had been
transformed into birds and beasts and fishes and reptiles and insects,
returned to their proper shapes, including the duke's daughter, who,
from being a white hind, showed as the most beauteous maiden upon whom
the sun ever shone. Now, no sooner had this occurred than the whole
castle vanished away in a cloud of smoke, and from that moment giants
vanished also from the land.

[Illustration: The giant Galligantua and the wicked old magician
transform the duke's daughter into a white hind]

So Jack, when he had presented the head of Galligantua to King Arthur,
together with all the lords and ladies he had delivered from
enchantment, found he had nothing more to do. As a reward for past
services, however, King Arthur bestowed the hand of the duke's daughter
upon honest Jack the Giant-Killer. So married they were, and the whole
kingdom was filled with joy at their wedding. Furthermore, the King
bestowed on Jack a noble castle with a magnificent estate belonging
thereto, whereon he, his lady, and their children lived in great joy and
content for the rest of their days.




[Illustration: Headpiece--The Three Sillies]

THE THREE SILLIES


Once upon a time, when folk were not so wise as they are nowadays, there
lived a farmer and his wife who had one daughter. And she, being a
pretty lass, was courted by the young squire when he came home from his
travels.

Now every evening he would stroll over from the Hall to see her and stop
to supper in the farm-house, and every evening the daughter would go
down into the cellar to draw the cider for supper.

So one evening when she had gone down to draw the cider and had turned
the tap as usual, she happened to look up at the ceiling, and there she
saw a big wooden mallet stuck in one of the beams.

It must have been there for ages and ages, for it was all covered with
cobwebs; but somehow or another she had never noticed it before, and at
once she began thinking how dangerous it was to have the mallet just
there.

"For," thought she, "supposing him and me was married, and supposing we
was to have a son, and supposing he were to grow up to be a man, and
supposing he were to come down to draw cider like as I'm doing, and
supposing the mallet were to fall on his head and kill him, how dreadful
it would be!"

And with that she put down the candle she was carrying and, seating
herself on a cask, began to cry. And she cried and cried and cried.

Now, upstairs, they began to wonder why she was so long drawing the
cider; so after a time her mother went down to the cellar to see what
had come to her, and found her, seated on the cask, crying ever so hard,
and the cider running all over the floor.

"Lawks a mercy me!" cried her mother, "whatever is the matter?"

"O mother!" says she between her sobs, "it's that horrid mallet.
Supposing him and me was married, and supposing we was to have a son,
and supposing he was to grow up to be a man, and supposing he was to
come down to draw cider like as I'm doing, and supposing the mallet were
to fall on his head and kill him, how dreadful it would be!"

"Dear heart!" said the mother, seating herself beside her daughter and
beginning to cry: "How dreadful it would be!"

So they both sat a-crying.

Now after a time, when they did not come back, the farmer began to
wonder what had happened, and going down to the cellar found them
seated side by side on the cask, crying hard, and the cider running all
over the floor.

"Zounds!" says he, "whatever is the matter?"

"Just look at that horrid mallet up there, father," moaned the mother.
"Supposing our daughter was to marry her sweetheart, and supposing they
was to have a son, and supposing he was to grow to man's estate, and
supposing he was to come down to draw cider like as we're doing, and
supposing that there mallet was to fall on his head and kill him, how
dreadful it would be!"

"Dreadful indeed!" said the father and, seating himself beside his wife
and daughter, started a-crying too.

Now upstairs the young squire wanted his supper; so at last he lost
patience and went down into the cellar to see for himself what they were
all after. And there he found them seated side by side on the cask
a-crying, with their feet all a-wash in cider, for the floor was fair
flooded. So the first thing he did was to run straight and turn off the
tap. Then he said:

"What are you three after, sitting there crying like babies, and letting
good cider run over the floor?"

Then they all three began with one voice, "Look at that horrid mallet!
Supposing you and me/she was married, and supposing we/you had a
son, and supposing he was to grow to man's estate, and supposing he was
to come down here to draw cider like as we be, and supposing that there
mallet was to fall down on his head and kill him, how dreadful it would
be!"

Then the young squire burst out a-laughing, and laughed till he was
tired. But at last he reached up to the old mallet and pulled it out,
and put it safe on the floor. And he shook his head and said, "I've
travelled far and I've travelled fast, but never have I met with three
such sillies as you three. Now I can't marry one of the three biggest
sillies in the world. So I shall start again on my travels, and if I can
find three bigger sillies than you three, then I'll come back and be
married--not otherwise."

So he wished them good-bye and started again on his travels, leaving
them all crying; this time because the marriage was off!

Well, the young man travelled far and he travelled fast, but never did
he find a bigger silly, until one day he came upon an old woman's
cottage that had some grass growing on the thatched roof.

And the old woman was trying her best to cudgel her cow into going up a
ladder to eat the grass. But the poor thing was afraid and durst not go.
Then the old woman tried coaxing, but it wouldn't go. You never saw such
a sight! The cow getting more and more flustered and obstinate, the old
woman getting hotter and hotter.

At last the young squire said, "It would be easier if _you_ went up the
ladder, cut the grass, and threw it down for the cow to eat."

"A likely story that," says the old woman. "A cow can cut grass for
herself. And the foolish thing will be quite safe up there, for I'll tie
a rope round her neck, pass the rope down the chimney, and fasten
t'other end to my wrist, so as when I'm doing my bit o' washing, she
can't fall off the roof without my knowing it. So mind your own
business, young sir."

Well, after a while the old woman coaxed and codgered and bullied and
badgered the cow up the ladder, and when she got it on to the roof she
tied a rope round its neck, passed the rope down the chimney, and
fastened t'other end to her wrist. Then she went about her bit of
washing, and young squire he went on his way.

But he hadn't gone but a bit when he heard the awfullest hullabaloo. He
galloped back, and found that the cow had fallen off the roof and got
strangled by the rope round its neck, while the weight of the cow had
pulled the old woman by her wrist up the chimney, where she had got
stuck half-way and been smothered by the soot!

"That is one bigger silly," quoth the young squire as he journeyed on.
"So now for two more!"

He did not find any, however, till late one night he arrived at a little
inn. And the inn was so full that he had to share a room with another
traveller. Now his room-fellow proved quite a pleasant fellow, and they
forgathered, and each slept well in his bed.

But next morning, when they were dressing, what does the stranger do but
carefully hang his breeches on the knobs of the tallboy!

"What are you doing?" asks young squire.

"I'm putting on my breeches," says the stranger; and with that he goes
to the other end of the room, takes a little run, and tried to jump into
the breeches.

But he didn't succeed, so he took another run and another try, and
another and another and another, until he got quite hot and flustered,
as the old woman had got over her cow that wouldn't go up the ladder.
And all the time young squire was laughing fit to split, for never in
his life did he see anything so comical.

Then the stranger stopped a while and mopped his face with his
handkerchief, for he was all in a sweat. "It's very well laughing," says
he, "but breeches are the most awkwardest things to get into that ever
were. It takes me the best part of an hour every morning before I get
them on. How do you manage yours?"

Then young squire showed him, as well as he could for laughing, how to
put on his breeches, and the stranger was ever so grateful and said he
never should have thought of that way.

"So that," quoth young squire to himself, "is a second bigger silly."
But he travelled far and he travelled fast without finding the third,
until one bright night when the moon was shining right overhead he came
upon a village. And outside the village was a pond, and round about the
pond was a great crowd of villagers. And some had got rakes, and some
had got pitchforks, and some had got brooms. And they were as busy as
busy, shouting out, and raking, and forking, and sweeping away at the
pond.

"What is the matter?" cried young squire, jumping off his horse to help.
"Has any one fallen in?"

"Aye! Matter enough," says they. "Can't 'ee see moon's fallen into the
pond, an' we can't get her out nohow."

And with that they set to again raking, and forking, and sweeping away.
Then the young squire burst out laughing, told them they were fools for
their pains, and bade them look up over their heads where the moon was
riding broad and full. But they wouldn't, and they wouldn't believe that
what they saw in the water was only a reflection. And when he insisted
they began to abuse him roundly and threaten to duck him in the pond. So
he got on his horse again as quickly as he could, leaving them raking,
and forking, and sweeping away; and for all we know they may be at it
yet!

But the young squire said to himself, "There are many more sillies in
this world than I thought for; so I'll just go back and marry the
farmer's daughter. She is no sillier than the rest."

So they were married, and if they didn't live happy ever after, that has
nothing to do with the story of the three sillies.




[Illustration: Headpiece--The Golden Ball]

THE GOLDEN BALL


Once upon a time there lived two lasses, who were sisters, and as they
came from the fair they saw a right handsome young man standing at a
house door before them. They had never seen such a handsome young man
before. He had gold on his cap, gold on his finger, gold on his neck,
gold at his waist! And he had a golden ball in each hand. He gave a ball
to each lass, saying she was to keep it; but if she lost it, she was to
be hanged.

Now the youngest of the lasses lost her ball, and this is how. She was
by a park paling, and she was tossing her ball, and it went up, and up,
and up, till it went fair over the paling; and when she climbed to look
for it, the ball ran along the green grass, and it ran right forward to
the door of a house that stood there, and the ball went into the house
and she saw it no more.

So she was taken away to be hanged by the neck till she was dead,
because she had lost her ball.

But the lass had a sweetheart, and he said he would go and get the ball.
So he went to the park gate, but 'twas shut; then he climbed the
railing, and when he got to the top of it an old woman rose up out of
the ditch before him and said that if he wanted to get the ball he must
sleep three nights in the house: so he said he would.

Well! when it was evening, he went into the house, and looked everywhere
for the ball, but he could not find it, nor any one in the house at all;
but when night came on he thought he heard bogles moving about in the
courtyard; so he looked out o' window, and, sure enough, the yard was
full of them!

Presently he heard steps coming upstairs, so he hid behind the door, and
was as still as a mouse. Then in came a big giant five times as tall as
the lad, and looked around; but seeing nothing he went to the window and
bowed himself to look out; and as he bowed on his elbows to see the
bogles in the yard, the lad stepped behind him, and with one blow of his
sword he cut him in twain, so that the top part of him fell in the yard,
and the bottom part remained standing looking out of the window.

Well! there was a great cry from the bogles when they saw half the giant
come tumbling down to them, and they called out, "There comes half our
master; give us the other half."

Then the lad said, "It's no use of thee, thou pair of legs, standing
alone at the window, as thou hast no eye to see with, so go join thy
brother"; and he cast the lower part of the giant after the top part.
Now when the bogles had gotten all the giant they were quiet.

Next night the lad went to sleep in the house again, and this time a
second giant came in at the door, and as he came in the lad cut him in
twain; but the legs walked on to the fire and went straight up the
chimney.

"Go, get thee after thy legs," said the lad to the head, and he cast the
other half of the giant up the chimney.

Now the third night nothing happened, so the lad got into bed; but
before he went to sleep he heard the bogles striving under the bed, and
he wondered what they were at. So he peeped, and saw that they had the
ball there, and were playing with it, casting it to and fro.

Now after a time one of them thrust his leg out from under the bed, and
quick as anything the lad brings his sword down, and cuts it off. Then
another bogle thrust his arm out at t'other side of the bed, and in a
twinkling the lad cuts that off too. So it went on, till at last he had
maimed them all, and they all went off, crying and wailing, and forgot
the ball! Then the lad got out of bed, found the ball, and went off at
once to seek his true love.

[Illustration: He heard the bogles striving under the bed]

Now the lass had been taken to York to be hanged; she was brought out on
the scaffold, and the hangman said, "Now, lass, thou must hang by the
neck till thou be'st dead." But she cried out:

  "Stop, stop, I think I see my mother coming!
   O mother, hast thou brought my golden ball
      And come to set me free?"

And the mother answered:

  "I've neither brought thy golden ball
     Nor come to set thee free,
   But I have come to see thee hung
     Upon this gallows-tree."

Then the hangman said, "Now, lass, say thy prayers for thou must die."
But she said:

  "Stop, stop, I think I see my father coming!
   O father, hast thou brought my golden ball
      And come to set me free?"

And the father answered:

  "I've neither brought thy golden ball
     Nor come to set thee free,
   But I have come to see thee hung
     Upon this gallows-tree."

Then the hangman said, "Hast thee done thy prayers? Now, lass, put thy
head into the noose."

But she answered, "Stop, stop, I think I see my brother coming!" And
again she sang her little verse, and the brother sang back the same
words. And so with her sister, her uncle, her aunt, and her cousin. But
they all said the same:

  "I've neither brought thy golden ball
     Nor come to set thee free,
   But I have come to see thee hung
     Upon this gallows-tree."

Then the hangman said, "I will stop no longer, thou'rt making game of
me. Thou must be hung at once."

But now, at long last, she saw her sweetheart coming through the crowd,
so she cried to him:

  "Stop, stop, I see my sweetheart coming!
   Sweetheart, hast thou brought my golden ball
      And come to set me free?"

Then her sweetheart held up her golden ball and cried:

  "Aye, I have brought to thee thy golden ball
     And come to set thee free;
   I have not come to see thee hung
     Upon this gallows-tree."

So he took her home, then and there, and they lived happy ever after.




THE TWO SISTERS


Once upon a time there were two sisters who were as like each other as
two peas in a pod; but one was good, and the other was bad-tempered. Now
their father had no work, so the girls began to think of going to
service.

"I will go first and see what I can make of it," said the younger
sister, ever so cheerfully, "then you, sis, can follow if I have good
luck."

So she packed up a bundle, said good-bye, and started to find a place;
but no one in the town wanted a girl, and she went farther afield into
the country. And as she journeyed she came upon an oven in which a lot
of loaves were baking. Now as she passed, the loaves cried out with one
voice:

"Little girl! Little girl! Take us out! Please take us out! We have been
baking for seven years, and no one has come to take us out. Do take us
out or we shall soon be burnt!"

Then, being a kind, obliging little girl, she stopped, put down her
bundle, took out the bread, and went on her way saying:

"You will be more comfortable now."

After a time she came to a cow lowing beside an empty pail, and the cow
said to her:

"Little girl! Little girl! Milk me! Please milk me! Seven years have I
been waiting, but no one has come to milk me!"

So the kind girl stopped, put down her bundle, milked the cow into the
pail, and went on her way saying:

"Now you will be more comfortable."

By and by she came to an apple tree so laden with fruit that its
branches were nigh to break, and the apple tree called to her:

"Little girl! Little girl! Please shake my branches. The fruit is so
heavy I can't stand straight!"

Then the kind girl stopped, put down her bundle, and shook the branches
so that the apples fell off, and the tree could stand straight. Then she
went on her way saying:

"You will be more comfortable now."

So she journeyed on till she came to a house where an old witch-woman
lived. Now this witch-woman wanted a servant-maid, and promised good
wages. Therefore the girl agreed to stop with her and try how she liked
service. She had to sweep the floor, keep the house clean and tidy, the
fire bright and cheery. But there was one thing the witch-woman said she
must never do; and that was look up the chimney!

[Illustration: "Tree of mine! O Tree of mine! Have you seen my naughty
little maid?"]

"If you do," said the witch-woman, "something will fall down on you, and
you will come to a bad end." Well! the girl swept, and dusted, and
made up the fire; but ne'er a penny of wages did she see. Now the girl
wanted to go home as she did not like witch-service; for the witch used
to have boiled babies for supper, and bury the bones under some stones
in the garden. But she did not like to go home penniless; so she stayed
on, sweeping, and dusting, and doing her work, just as if she was
pleased. Then one day, as she was sweeping up the hearth, down tumbled
some soot, and, without remembering she was forbidden to look up the
chimney, she looked up to see where the soot came from. And, lo and
behold! a big bag of gold fell plump into her lap.

Now the witch happened to be out on one of her witch errands; so the
girl thought it a fine opportunity to be off home.

So she kilted up her petticoats and started to run home; but she had
only gone a little way when she heard the witch-woman coming after her
on her broomstick. Now the apple tree she had helped to stand straight
happened to be quite close; so she ran to it and cried:

  "Apple tree! Apple tree, hide me
   So the old witch can't find me,
   For if she does she'll pick my bones,
   And bury me under the garden stones."

Then the apple tree said, "Of course I will. You helped me to stand
straight, and one good turn deserves another."

So the apple tree hid her finely in its green branches; and when the
witch flew past saying:

  "Tree of mine! O Tree of mine!
   Have you seen my naughty little maid
   With a willy willy wag and a great big bag,
   She's stolen my money--all I had?"

The apple tree answered:

  "No, mother dear,
   Not for seven year!"

So the witch flew on the wrong way, and the girl got down, thanked the
tree politely, and started again. But just as she got to where the cow
was standing beside the pail, she heard the witch coming again, so she
ran to the cow and cried:

  "Cow! Cow, please hide me
   So the witch can't find me;
   If she does she'll pick my bones,
   And bury me under the garden stones!"

"Certainly I will," answered the cow. "Didn't you milk me and make me
comfortable? Hide yourself behind me and you'll be quite safe."

And when the witch flew by and called to the cow:

  "O Cow of mine! Cow of mine!
   Have you seen my naughty little maid
   With a willy willy wag and a great big bag,
   Who stole my money--all that I had?"

She just said politely:

  "No, mother dear,
   Not for seven year!"

Then the old witch went on in the wrong direction, and the girl started
afresh on her way home; but just as she got to where the oven stood, she
heard that horrid old witch coming behind her again; so she ran as fast
as she could to the oven and cried:

  "O Oven! Oven! hide me
   So as the witch can't find me,
   For if she does she'll pick my bones,
   And bury them under the garden stones."

Then the oven said, "I am afraid there is no room for you, as another
batch of bread is baking; but there is the baker--ask him."

So she asked the baker, and he said, "Of course I will. You saved my
last batch from being burnt; so run into the bakehouse, you will be
quite safe there, and I will settle the witch for you."

So she hid in the bakehouse, only just in time, for there was the old
witch calling angrily:

  "O Man of mine! Man of mine!
   Have you seen my naughty little maid
   With a willy willy wag and a great big bag,
   Who's stole my money--all I had?"

Then the baker replied, "Look in the oven. She may be there."

And the witch alighted from her broomstick and peered into the oven: but
she could see no one.

"Creep in and look in the farthest corner," said the baker slyly, and
the witch crept in, when----

                           Bang!----

he shut the door in her face, and there she was roasting. And when she
came out with the bread she was all crisp and brown, and had to go home
as best she could and put cold cream all over her!

But the kind, obliging little girl got safe home with her bag of money.

Now the ill-tempered elder sister was very jealous of this good luck,
and determined to get a bag of gold for herself. So she in her turn
packed up a bundle and started to seek service by the same road. But
when she came to the oven, and the loaves begged her to take them out
because they had been baking seven years and were nigh to burning, she
tossed her head and said:

"A likely story indeed, that I should burn my fingers to save your
crusts. No, thank you!"

And with that she went on till she came across the cow standing waiting
to be milked beside the pail. But when the cow said:

"Little girl! Little girl! Milk me! Please milk me, I've waited seven
years to be milked----"

She only laughed and replied, "You may wait another seven years for all
I care. I'm not your dairymaid!"

And with that she went on till she came to the apple tree, all
overburdened by its fruit. But when it begged her to shake its branches,
she only giggled, and plucking one ripe apple, said:

"One is enough for me: you can keep the rest yourself." And with that
she went on munching the apple, till she came to the witch-woman's
house.

Now the witch-woman, though she had got over being crisp and brown from
the oven, was dreadfully angry with all little maid-servants, and made
up her mind this one should not trick her. So for a long time she never
went out of the house; thus the ill-tempered sister never had a chance
of looking up the chimney, as she had meant to do at once. And she had
to dust, and clean, and brush, and sweep ever so hard, until she was
quite tired out.

But one day, when the witch-woman went into the garden to bury her
bones, she seized the moment, looked up the chimney, and, sure enough, a
bag of gold fell plump into her lap!

Well! she was off with it in a moment, and ran and ran till she came to
the apple tree, when she heard the witch-woman behind her. So she cried
as her sister had done:

  "Apple tree! Apple tree, hide me
   So the old witch can't find me,
   For if she does she'll break my bones,
   Or bury me under the garden stones."

But the apple tree said:

"No room here! I've too many apples."

So she had to run on; and when the witch-woman on her broomstick came
flying by and called:

  "O Tree of mine! Tree of mine!
   Have you seen a naughty little maid
   With a willy willy wag and a great big bag,
   Who's stolen my money--all I had?"

The apple tree replied:

  "Yes, mother dear,
   She's gone down there."

Then the witch-woman went after her, caught her, gave her a thorough
good beating, took the bag of money away from her, and sent her home
without a penny payment for all her dusting, and sweeping, and brushing,
and cleaning.




[Illustration: Headpiece--The Laidly Worm]

THE LAIDLY WORM


In Bamborough Castle there once lived a King who had two children, a son
named Childe Wynde, and a daughter who was called May Margret. Their
mother, a fair woman, was dead, and the King mourned her long and
faithfully. But, after his son Childe Wynde went to seek his fortune,
the King, hunting in the forest, came across a lady of such great beauty
that he fell in love with her at once and determined to marry her.

Now Princess May Margret was not over-pleased to think that her mother's
place should be taken by a strange woman, nor was she pleased to think
that she would have to give up keeping house for her father the King.
For she had always taken a pride in her work. But she said nothing,
though she stood long on the castle walls looking out across the sea
wishing for her dear brother's return; for, see you, they had mothered
each other.

Still no news came of Childe Wynde; so on the day when the old King was
to bring the new Queen home, May Margret counted over the keys of the
castle chambers, knotted them on a string, and after casting them over
her left shoulder for luck--more for her father's sake than for the new
Queen's regard--she stood at the castle gate ready to hand over the keys
to her stepmother.

Now as the bridal procession approached with all the lords of the north
countrie, and some of the Scots lords in attendance, she looked so fair
and so sweet, that the lords whispered to one another of her beauty. And
when, after saying in a voice like a mavis--

  "Oh welcome, welcome, father,
   Unto your halls and towers!
   And welcome too, my stepmother,
   For all that's here is yours!"

she turned upon the step and tripped into the yard, the Scots lords said
aloud:

  "Forsooth! May Margret's grace
   Surpasses all that we have met, she has so fair a face!"

Now the new Queen overheard this, and she stamped her foot and her face
flushed with anger as she turned her about and called:

  "You might have excepted me,
   But I will bring May Margret to a Laidly Worm's degree;
   I'll bring her low as a Laidly Worm
   That warps about a stone,
   And not till the Childe of Wynde come back
   Will the witching be undone."

Well! hearing this May Margret laughed, not knowing that her new
stepmother, for all her beauty, was a witch; and the laugh made the
wicked woman still more angry. So that same night she left her royal
bed, and, returning to the lonely cave where she had ever done her
magic, she cast Princess May Margret under a spell with charms three
times three, and passes nine times nine. And this was her spell:

  "I weird ye to a Laidly Worm,
   And such sail ye ever be
   Until Childe Wynde the King's dear son
   Comes home across the sea.
   Until the world comes to an end
   Unspelled ye'll never be,
   Unless Childe Wynde of his own free will
   Sail give you kisses three!"

So it came to pass that Princess May Margret went to her bed a beauteous
maiden, full of grace, and rose next morning a Laidly Worm; for when her
tire-women came to dress her they found coiled up in her bed an awesome
dragon, which uncoiled itself and came towards them. And when they ran
away terrified, the Laidly Worm crawled and crept, and crept and crawled
down to the sea till it reached the rock of the Spindlestone which is
called the Heugh. And there it curled itself round the stone, and lay
basking in the sun.

Then for seven miles east and seven miles west and seven miles north and
south the whole country-side knew the hunger of the Laidly Worm of
Spindlestone Heugh, for it drove the awesome beast to leave its
resting-place at night and devour everything it came across.

At last a wise warlock told the people that if they wished to be quit of
these horrors, they must take every drop of the milk of seven white
milch kine every morn and every eve to the trough of stone at the foot
of the Heugh, for the Laidly Worm to drink. And this they did, and after
that the Laidly Worm troubled the country-side no longer; but lay warped
about the Heugh, looking out to sea with its terrible snout in the air.

But the word of its doings had gone east and had gone west; it had even
gone over the sea and had come to Childe Wynde's ears; and the news of
it angered him; for he thought perchance it had something to do with his
beloved sister May Margret's disappearance. So he called his men-at-arms
together and said:

"We must sail to Bamborough and land by Spindlestone, so as to quell and
kill this Laidly Worm."

Then they built a ship without delay, laying the keel with wood from the
rowan tree. And they made masts of rowan wood also, and oars likewise;
and, so furnished, set forth.

Now the wicked Queen knew by her arts they were coming, so she sent out
her imps to still the winds so that the fluttering sails of silk hung
idle on the masts. But Childe Wynde was not to be bested; so he called
out the oarsmen. Thus it came to pass that one morn the wicked Queen,
looking from the Keep, saw the gallant ship in Bamborough Bay, and she
sent out all her witch-wives and her impets to raise a storm and sink
the ship; but they came back unable to hurt it, for, see you, it was
built of rowan wood, over which witches have no power.

Then, as a last device, the Witch Queen laid spells upon the Laidly Worm
saying:

  "Oh! Laidly Worm! Go make their topmast heel,
   Go! Worm the sand, and creep beneath the keel."

Now the Laidly Worm had no choice but to obey. So:

  "The Worm leapt up, the Worm leapt down
   And plaited round each plank,
   And aye as the ship came close to shore
   She heeled as if she sank."

Three times three did Childe Wynde attempt to land, and three times
three the Laidly Worm kept the good ship from the shore. At last Childe
Wynde gave the word to put the ship about, and the Witch Queen, who was
watching from the Keep, thought he had given up: but he was not to be
bested: for he only rounded the next point to Budley sands. And there,
jumping into the shoal water, he got safely to land, and drawing his
sword of proof, rushed up to fight the awesome Worm. But as he raised
his sword to strike he heard a voice, soft as the western wind:

  "Oh quit thy sword, unbend thy bow,
     And give me kisses three,
   For though I seem a Laidly Worm
     No harm I'll do to thee!"

And the voice seemed to him like the voice of his dear sister May
Margret. So he stayed his hand. Then once again the Laidly Worm said:

  "Oh quit thy sword, unbend thy bow,
     My laidly form forget.
   Forgive the wrong and kiss me thrice
     For love of May Margret."

Then Childe Wynde, remembering how he had loved his sister, put his arms
round the Laidly Worm and kissed it once. And he kissed the loathly
thing twice. And he kissed it yet a third time as he stood with the wet
sand at his feet.

Then with a hiss and a roar the Laidly Worm sank to the sand, and in his
arms was May Margret!

He wrapped her in his mantle, for she trembled in the cold sea air, and
carried her to Bamborough Castle, where the wicked Queen, knowing her
hour was come, stood, all deserted by her imps and witch-wives, on the
stairs, twisting her hands.

Then Childe Wynde looking at her cried:

  "Woe! Woe to thee, thou wicked Witch!
     An ill fate shalt thine be!
   The doom thou dreed on May Margret
     The same doom shalt thou dree.

   Henceforth thou'lt be a Laidly Toad
     That in the clay doth wend,
   And unspelled thou wilt never be
     Till this world hath an end."

And as he spoke the wicked Queen began to shrivel, and she shrivelled
and shrivelled to a horrid wrinkled toad that hopped down the castle
steps and disappeared in a crevice.

But to this day a loathsome toad is sometimes seen haunting Bamborough
Keep; and that Laidly Toad is the wicked Witch Queen!

But Childe Wynde and Princess May Margret loved each other as much as
ever, and lived happily ever after.




[Illustration: Tatty sat down and wept]

TITTY MOUSE AND TATTY MOUSE


Titty Mouse and Tatty Mouse both lived in a house.

Titty Mouse went a-gleaning, and Tatty Mouse went a-gleaning.

So they both went a-gleaning.

Titty Mouse gleaned an ear of corn, and Tatty Mouse gleaned an ear of
corn.

So they both gleaned an ear of corn.

Titty Mouse made a pudding, and Tatty Mouse made a pudding.

So they both made a pudding.

And Tatty Mouse put her pudding into the pot to boil.

But when Titty went to put hers in, the pot tumbled over, and scalded
her to death, and Tatty sat down and wept.

Then the three-legged stool said, "Tatty, why do you weep?"

"Titty's dead," said Tatty, "and so I weep."

"Then," said the stool, "I'll hop," so the stool hopped.

Then a broom in the corner of the room said, "Stool, why do you hop?"

"Oh!" said the stool, "Titty's dead, and Tatty weeps, and so I hop."

"Then," said the broom, "I'll sweep," so the broom began to sweep.

Then said the door, "Broom, why do you sweep?"

"Oh!" said the broom, "Titty's dead, and Tatty weeps, and the stool
hops, and so I sweep."

"Then," said the door, "I'll jar," so the door jarred.

Then the window said, "Door, why do you jar?"

"Oh!" said the door, "Titty's dead, and Tatty weeps, and the stool hops,
and the broom sweeps, and so I jar."

"Then," said the window, "I'll creak," so the window creaked.

Now there was an old form outside the house, and when the window
creaked, the form said, "Window, why do you creak?"

"Oh!" said the window, "Titty's dead, and Tatty weeps, and the stool
hops, and the broom sweeps, the door jars, and so I creak!"

"Then," said the old form, "I'll gallop round the house." So the old
form galloped round the house.

Now there was a fine large walnut tree growing by the cottage, and the
tree said to the form, "Form, why do you gallop round the house?"

"Oh!" says the form, "Titty's dead, and Tatty weeps, and the stool
hops, and the broom sweeps, the door jars, and the window creaks, and so
I gallop round the house."

"Then," said the walnut tree, "I'll shed my leaves." So the walnut tree
shed all its beautiful green leaves.

Now there was a little bird perched on one of the boughs of the tree,
and when all the leaves fell, it said, "Walnut tree, why do you shed
your leaves?"

"Oh!" said the tree, "Titty's dead, and Tatty weeps, the stool hops, and
the broom sweeps, the door jars, and the window creaks, the old form
gallops round the house, and so I shed my leaves."

"Then," said the little bird, "I'll moult all my feathers," so he
moulted all his gay feathers.

Now there was a little girl walking below, carrying a jug of milk for
her brothers' and sisters' supper, and when she saw the poor little bird
moult all its feathers, she said, "Little bird, why do you moult all
your feathers?"

"Oh!" said the little bird, "Titty's dead, and Tatty weeps, the stool
hops, and the broom sweeps, the door jars, and the window creaks, the
old form gallops round the house, the walnut tree sheds its leaves, and
so I moult all my feathers."

"Then," said the little girl, "I'll spill the milk." So she dropt the
pitcher and spilt the milk.

Now there was an old man just by on the top of a ladder thatching a
rick, and when he saw the little girl spill the milk, he said, "Little
girl, what do you mean by spilling the milk? your little brothers and
sisters must go without their suppers."

Then said the little girl, "Titty's dead, and Tatty weeps, the stool
hops, and the broom sweeps, the door jars, and the window creaks, the
old form gallops round the house, the walnut tree sheds all its leaves,
the little bird moults all its feathers, and so I spill the milk."

"Oh!" said the old man, "then I'll tumble off the ladder and break my
neck."

So he tumbled off the ladder and broke his neck; and when the old man
broke his neck, the great walnut tree fell down with a crash and upset
the old form and house, and the house falling knocked the window out,
and the window knocked the door down, and the door upset the broom, and
the broom upset the stool, and poor little Tatty Mouse was buried
beneath the ruins.




JACK AND THE BEANSTALK


A long long time ago, when most of the world was young and folk did what
they liked because all things were good, there lived a boy called Jack.

His father was bed-ridden, and his mother, a good soul, was busy early
morns and late eves planning and placing how to support her sick husband
and her young son by selling the milk and butter which Milky-White, the
beautiful cow, gave them without stint. For it was summer-time. But
winter came on; the herbs of the fields took refuge from the frosts in
the warm earth, and though his mother sent Jack to gather what fodder he
could get in the hedgerows, he came back as often as not with a very
empty sack; for Jack's eyes were so often full of wonder at all the
things he saw that sometimes he forgot to work!

So it came to pass that one morning Milky-White gave no milk at all--not
one drain! Then the good hard-working mother threw her apron over her
head and sobbed:

"What shall we do? What shall we do?"

Now Jack loved his mother; besides, he felt just a bit sneaky at being
such a big boy and doing so little to help, so he said, "Cheer up! Cheer
up! I'll go and get work somewhere." And he felt as he spoke as if he
would work his fingers to the bone; but the good woman shook her head
mournfully.

"You've tried that before, Jack," she said, "and nobody would keep you.
You are quite a good lad but your wits go a-wool-gathering. No, we must
sell Milky-White and live on the money. It is no use crying over milk
that is not here to spill!"

You see, she was a wise as well as a hard-working woman, and Jack's
spirits rose.

"Just so," he cried. "We will sell Milky-White and be richer than ever.
It's an ill wind that blows no one good. So, as it is market-day, I'll
just take her there and we shall see what we shall see."

"But--" began his mother.

"But doesn't butter parsnips," laughed Jack. "Trust me to make a good
bargain."

So, as it was washing-day, and her sick husband was more ailing than
usual, his mother let Jack set off to sell the cow.

"Not less than ten pounds," she bawled after him as he turned the
corner.

Ten pounds, indeed! Jack had made up his mind to twenty! Twenty solid
golden sovereigns!

He was just settling what he should buy his mother as a fairing out of
the money, when he saw a queer little old man on the road who called
out, "Good-morning, Jack!"

"Good-morning," replied Jack, with a polite bow, wondering how the queer
little old man happened to know his name; though, to be sure, Jacks were
as plentiful as blackberries.

"And where may you be going?" asked the queer little old man. Jack
wondered again--he was always wondering, you know--what the queer little
old man had to do with it; but, being always polite, he replied:

"I am going to market to sell Milky-White--and I mean to make a good
bargain."

"So you will! So you will!" chuckled the queer little old man. "You
look the sort of chap for it. I bet you know how many beans make five?"

"Two in each hand and one in my mouth," answered Jack readily. He really
was sharp as a needle.

"Just so, just so!" chuckled the queer little old man; and as he spoke
he drew out of his pocket five beans. "Well, here they are, so give us
Milky-White."

Jack was so flabbergasted that he stood with his mouth open as if he
expected the fifth bean to fly into it.

"What!" he said at last. "My Milky-White for five common beans! Not if I
know it!"

"But they aren't common beans," put in the queer little old man, and
there was a queer little smile on his queer little face. "If you plant
these beans over-night, by morning they will have grown up right into
the very sky."

Jack was too flabbergasted this time even to open his mouth; his eyes
opened instead.

[Illustration: As he spoke he drew out of his pocket five beans]

"Did you say right into the very sky?" he asked at last; for, see you,
Jack had wondered more about the sky than about anything else.

"_RIGHT UP INTO THE VERY SKY_" repeated the queer old man, with a nod
between each word. "It's a good bargain, Jack; and, as fair play's a
jewel, if they don't--why! meet me here to-morrow morning and you shall
have Milky-White back again. Will that please you?"

"Right as a trivet," cried Jack, without stopping to think, and the next
moment he found himself standing on an empty road.

"Two in each hand and one in my mouth," repeated Jack. "That is what I
said, and what I'll do. Everything in order, and if what the queer
little old man said isn't true, I shall get Milky-White back to-morrow
morning."

So whistling and munching the bean he trudged home cheerfully, wondering
what the sky would be like if he ever got there.

"What a long time you've been!" exclaimed his mother, who was watching
anxiously for him at the gate. "It is past sun-setting; but I see you
have sold Milky-White. Tell me quick how much you got for her."

"You'll never guess," began Jack.

"Laws-a-mercy! You don't say so," interrupted the good woman. "And I
worriting all day lest they should take you in. What was it? Ten
pounds--fifteen--sure it _can't_ be twenty!"

Jack held out the beans triumphantly.

"There," he said. "That's what I got for her, and a jolly good bargain
too!"

It was his mother's turn to be flabbergasted; but all she said was:

"What! Them beans!"

"Yes," replied Jack, beginning to doubt his own wisdom; "but they're
_magic_ beans. If you plant them over-night, by morning
they--grow--right up--into--the--sky--Oh! Please don't hit so hard!"

For Jack's mother for once had lost her temper, and was belabouring the
boy for all she was worth. And when she had finished scolding and
beating, she flung the miserable beans out of window and sent him,
supperless, to bed.

If this was the magical effect of the beans, thought Jack ruefully, he
didn't want any more magic, if you please.

However, being healthy and, as a rule, happy, he soon fell asleep and
slept like a top.

When he woke he thought at first it was moonlight, for everything in the
room showed greenish. Then he stared at the little window. It was
covered as if with a curtain by leaves. He was out of bed in a trice,
and the next moment, without waiting to dress, was climbing up the
biggest beanstalk you ever saw. For what the queer little old man had
said was true! One of the beans which his mother had chucked into the
garden had found soil, taken root, and grown in the night....

Where?...

Up to the very sky? Jack meant to see at any rate.

So he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed. It was easy work, for the
big beanstalk with the leaves growing out of each side was like a
ladder; for all that he soon was out of breath. Then he got his second
wind, and was just beginning to wonder if he had a third when he saw in
front of him a wide, shining white road stretching away, and away, and
away.

So he took to walking, and he walked, and walked, and walked, till he
came to a tall, shining white house with a wide white doorstep.

And on the doorstep stood a great big woman with a black porridge-pot
in her hand. Now Jack, having had no supper, was hungry as a hunter, and
when he saw the porridge-pot he said quite politely:

"Good-morning, 'm. I wonder if you _could_ give me some breakfast?"

"Breakfast!" echoed the woman, who, in truth, was an ogre's wife. "If it
is breakfast you're wanting, it's breakfast you'll likely be; for I
expect my man home every instant, and there is nothing he likes better
for breakfast than a boy--a fat boy grilled on toast."

Now Jack was not a bit of a coward, and when he wanted a thing he
generally got it, so he said cheerful-like:

"I'd be fatter if I'd had my breakfast!" Whereat the ogre's wife laughed
and bade Jack come in; for she was not, really, half as bad as she
looked. But he had hardly finished the great bowl of porridge and milk
she gave him when the whole house began to tremble and quake. It was the
ogre coming home!

                     Thump! THUMP!! THUMP!!!

"Into the oven with you, sharp!" cried the ogre's wife; and the iron
oven door was just closed when the ogre strode in. Jack could see him
through the little peep-hole slide at the top where the steam came out.

He was a big one for sure. He had three sheep strung to his belt, and
these he threw down on the table. "Here, wife," he cried, "roast me
these snippets for breakfast; they are all I've been able to get this
morning, worse luck! I hope the oven's hot?" And he went to touch the
handle, while Jack burst out all of a sweat, wondering what would happen
next.

"Roast!" echoed the ogre's wife. "Pooh! the little things would dry to
cinders. Better boil them."

So she set to work to boil them; but the ogre began sniffing about the
room. "They don't smell--mutton meat," he growled. Then he frowned
horribly and began the real ogre's rhyme:

  "_Fee-fi-fo-fum,
   I smell the blood of an Englishman.
   Be he alive, or be he dead,
   I'll grind his bones to make my bread._"

"Don't be silly!" said his wife. "It's the bones of the little boy you
had for supper that I'm boiling down for soup! Come, eat your breakfast,
there's a good ogre!"

So the ogre ate his three sheep, and when he had done he went to a big
oaken chest and took out three big bags of golden pieces. These he put
on the table, and began to count their contents while his wife cleared
away the breakfast things. And by and by his head began to nod, and at
last he began to snore, and snored so loud that the whole house shook.

Then Jack nipped out of the oven and, seizing one of the bags of gold,
crept away, and ran along the straight, wide, shining white road as fast
as his legs would carry him till he came to the beanstalk. He couldn't
climb down it with the bag of gold, it was so heavy, so he just flung
his burden down first, and, helter-skelter, climbed after it.

And when he came to the bottom, there was his mother picking up gold
pieces out of the garden as fast as she could; for, of course, the bag
had burst.

"Laws-a-mercy me!" she says. "Wherever have you been? See! It's been
rainin' gold!"

"No, it hasn't," began Jack. "I climbed up--"

Then he turned to look for the beanstalk; but, lo and behold! it wasn't
there at all! So he knew, then, it was all real magic.

After that they lived happily on the gold pieces for a long time, and
the bed-ridden father got all sorts of nice things to eat; but, at last,
a day came when Jack's mother showed a doleful face as she put a big
yellow sovereign into Jack's hand and bade him be careful marketing,
because there was not one more in the coffer. After that they must
starve.

That night Jack went supperless to bed of his own accord. If he couldn't
make money, he thought, at any rate he could eat less money. It was a
shame for a big boy to stuff himself and bring no grist to the mill.

He slept like a top, as boys do when they don't overeat themselves, and
when he woke....

Hey, presto! the whole room showed greenish, and there was a curtain of
leaves over the window! Another bean had grown in the night, and Jack
was up it like a lamp-lighter before you could say knife.

This time he didn't take nearly so long climbing until he reached the
straight, wide, white road, and in a trice he found himself before the
tall white house, where on the wide white steps the ogre's wife was
standing with the black porridge-pot in her hand.

And this time Jack was as bold as brass. "Good-morning, 'm," he said.
"I've come to ask you for breakfast, for I had no supper, and I'm as
hungry as a hunter."

"Go away, bad boy!" replied the ogre's wife. "Last time I gave a boy
breakfast my man missed a whole bag of gold. I believe you are the same
boy."

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not," said Jack, with a laugh. "I'll tell you
true when I've had my breakfast; but not till then."

So the ogre's wife, who was dreadfully curious, gave him a big bowl full
of porridge; but before he had half finished it he heard the ogre
coming--

                    Thump! THUMP! THUMP!

"In with you to the oven," shrieked the ogre's wife. "You shall tell me
when he has gone to sleep."

This time Jack saw through the steam peep-hole that the ogre had three
fat calves strung to his belt.

"Better luck to-day, wife!" he cried, and his voice shook the house.
"Quick! Roast these trifles for my breakfast! I hope the oven's hot?"

And he went to feel the handle of the door, but his wife cried out
sharply:

"Roast! Why, you'd have to wait hours before they were done! I'll broil
them--see how bright the fire is!"

"Umph!" growled the ogre. And then he began sniffing and calling out:

  "_Fee-fi-fo-fum,
   I smell the blood of an Englishman.
   Be he alive, or be he dead,
   I'll grind his bones to make my bread._"

"Twaddle!" said the ogre's wife. "It's only the bones of the boy you had
last week that I've put into the pig-bucket!"

"Umph!" said the ogre harshly; but he ate the broiled calves, and then
he said to his wife, "Bring me my hen that lays the magic eggs. I want
to see gold."

So the ogre's wife brought him a great big black hen with a shiny red
comb. She plumped it down on the table and took away the breakfast
things.

Then the ogre said to the hen, "Lay!" and it promptly laid--what do you
think?--a beautiful, shiny, yellow, golden egg!

"None so dusty, henny-penny," laughed the ogre. "I shan't have to beg as
long as I've got you." Then he said, "Lay!" once more; and, lo and
behold! there was another beautiful, shiny, yellow, golden egg!

Jack could hardly believe his eyes, and made up his mind that he would
have that hen, come what might. So, when the ogre began to doze, he just
out like a flash from the oven, seized the hen, and ran for his life!
But, you see, he reckoned without his prize; for hens, you know, always
cackle when they leave their nests after laying an egg, and this one set
up such a scrawing that it woke the ogre.

"Where's my hen?" he shouted, and his wife came rushing in, and they
both rushed to the door; but Jack had got the better of them by a good
start, and all they could see was a little figure right away down the
wide white road, holding a big, scrawing, cackling, fluttering black hen
by the legs!

How Jack got down the beanstalk he never knew. It was all wings, and
leaves, and feathers, and cacklings; but get down he did, and there was
his mother wondering if the sky was going to fall!

But the very moment Jack touched ground he called out, "Lay!" and the
black hen ceased cackling and laid a great, big, shiny, yellow, golden
egg.

So every one was satisfied; and from that moment everybody had
everything that money could buy. For, whenever they wanted anything,
they just said, "Lay!" and the black hen provided them with gold.

But Jack began to wonder if he couldn't find something else besides
money in the sky. So one fine moonlight midsummer night he refused his
supper, and before he went to bed stole out to the garden with a big
watering-can and watered the ground under his window; for, thought he,
"there must be two more beans somewhere, and perhaps it is too dry for
them to grow." Then he slept like a top.

And, lo and behold! when he woke, there was the green light shimmering
through his room, and there he was in an instant on the beanstalk,
climbing, climbing, climbing for all he was worth.

But this time he knew better than to ask for his breakfast; for the
ogre's wife would be sure to recognise him. So he just hid in some
bushes beside the great white house, till he saw her in the scullery,
and then he slipped out and hid himself in the copper; for he knew she
would be sure to look in the oven first thing.

And by and by he heard--

                   Thump! THUMP! THUMP!

And peeping through a crack in the copper-lid, he could see the ogre
stalk in with three huge oxen strung at his belt. But this time, no
sooner had the ogre got into the house than he began shouting:

  "_Fee-fi-fo-fum,
   I smell the blood of an Englishman.
   Be he alive, or be he dead,
   I'll grind his bones to make my bread._"

For, see you, the copper-lid didn't fit tight like the oven door, and
ogres have noses like a dog's for scent.

"Well, I declare, so do I!" exclaimed the ogre's wife. "It will be that
horrid boy who stole the bag of gold and the hen. If so, he's hid in the
oven!"

But when she opened the door, lo and behold! Jack wasn't there! Only
some joints of meat roasting and sizzling away. Then she laughed and
said, "You and me be fools for sure. Why, it's the boy you caught last
night as I was getting ready for your breakfast. Yes, we be fools to
take dead meat for live flesh! So eat your breakfast, there's a good
ogre!"

But the ogre, though he enjoyed roast boy very much, wasn't satisfied,
and every now and then he would burst out with "_Fee-fi-fo-fum_," and
get up and search the cupboards, keeping Jack in a fever of fear lest he
should think of the copper.

But he didn't. And when he had finished his breakfast he called out to
his wife, "Bring me my magic harp! I want to be amused."

So she brought out a little harp and put it on the table. And the ogre
leant back in his chair and said lazily:

                    "Sing!"

And, lo and behold! the harp began to sing. If you want to know what it
sang about? Why! It sang about everything! And it sang so beautifully
that Jack forgot to be frightened, and the ogre forgot to think of
"_Fee-fi-fo-fum_," and fell asleep and

                    did
                    NOT
                   SNORE.

Then Jack stole out of the copper like a mouse and crept hands and knees
to the table, raised himself up ever so softly and laid hold of the
magic harp; for he was determined to have it.

But, no sooner had he touched it, than it cried out quite loud, "Master!
Master!" So the ogre woke, saw Jack making off, and rushed after him.

My goodness, it was a race! Jack was nimble, but the ogre's stride was
twice as long. So, though Jack turned, and twisted, and doubled like a
hare, yet at last, when he got to the beanstalk, the ogre was not a
dozen yards behind him. There wasn't time to think, so Jack just flung
himself on to the stalk and began to go down as fast as he could, while
the harp kept calling, "Master! Master!" at the very top of its voice.
He had only got down about a quarter of the way when there was the most
awful lurch you can think of, and Jack nearly fell off the beanstalk. It
was the ogre beginning to climb down, and his weight made the stalk sway
like a tree in a storm. Then Jack knew it was life or death, and he
climbed down faster and faster, and as he climbed he shouted, "Mother!
Mother! Bring an axe! Bring an axe!"

Now his mother, as luck would have it, was in the backyard chopping
wood, and she ran out thinking that this time the sky must have fallen.
Just at that moment Jack touched ground, and he flung down the
harp--which immediately began to sing of all sorts of beautiful
things--and he seized the axe and gave a great chop at the beanstalk,
which shook and swayed and bent like barley before a breeze.

"Have a care!" shouted the ogre, clinging on as hard as he could. But
Jack _did_ have a care, and he dealt that beanstalk such a shrewd blow
that the whole of it, ogre and all, came toppling down, and, of course,
the ogre broke his crown, so that he died on the spot.

[Illustration: "Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman."]

[Illustration: Jack seized the axe and gave a great chop at the
beanstalk]

After that every one was quite happy. For they had gold and to spare,
and if the bed-ridden father was dull, Jack just brought out the harp
and said, "Sing!" And, lo and behold! It sang about everything under the
sun.

So Jack ceased wondering so much and became quite a useful person.

And the last bean still hasn't grown yet. It is still in the garden.

I wonder if it will ever grow?

And what little child will climb its beanstalk into the sky?

And what will that child find?

Goody me!




THE BLACK BULL OF NORROWAY


Long ago in Norroway there lived a lady who had three daughters. Now
they were all pretty, and one night they fell a-talking of whom they
meant to marry.

And the eldest said, "I will have no one lower than an Earl."

And the second said, "I will have none lower than a Lord."

But the third, the prettiest and the merriest, tossed her head and said,
with a twinkle in her eye, "Why so proud? As for me I would be content
with the Black Bull of Norroway."

At that the other sisters bade her be silent and not talk lightly of
such a monster. For, see you, is it not written:

  To wilder measures now they turn,
    The black black Bull of Norroway;
  Sudden the tapers cease to burn,
    The minstrels cease to play.

So, no doubt, the Black Bull of Norroway was held to be a horrid
monster.

But the youngest daughter would have her laugh, so she said three times
that she would be content with the Black Bull of Norroway.

Well! It so happened that the very next morning a coach-and-six came
swinging along the road, and in it sate an Earl who had come to ask the
hand of the eldest daughter in marriage. So there were great rejoicings
over the wedding, and the bride and bridegroom drove away in the
coach-and-six.

Then the next thing that happened was that a coach-and-four with a Lord
in it came swinging along the road; and he wanted to marry the second
daughter. So they were wed, and there were great rejoicings, and the
bride and bridegroom drove away in the coach-and-four.

Now after this there was only the youngest, the prettiest and the
merriest, of the sisters left, and she became the apple of her mother's
eye. So you may imagine how the mother felt when one morning a terrible
bellowing was heard at the door, and there was a great big Black Bull
waiting for his bride.

She wept and she wailed, and at first the girl ran away and hid herself
in the cellar for fear, but there the Bull stood waiting, and at last
the girl came up and said:

"I promised I would be content with the Black Bull of Norroway, and I
must keep my word. Farewell, mother, you will not see me again."

Then she mounted on the Black Bull's back, and it walked away with her
quite quietly. And ever it chose the smoothest paths and the easiest
roads, so that at last the girl grew less afraid. But she became very
hungry and was nigh to faint when the Black Bull said to her, in quite a
soft voice that wasn't a bellow at all:

  "Eat out of my left ear,
     Drink out of my right,
   And set by what you leave
     To serve the morrow's night."

So she did as she was bid, and, lo and behold! the left ear was full of
delicious things to eat, and the right was full of the most delicious
drinks, and there was plenty left over for several days.

Thus they journeyed on, and they journeyed on, through many dreadful
forests and many lonely wastes, and the Black Bull never paused for bite
or sup, but ever the girl he carried ate out of his left ear and drank
out of his right, and set by what she left to serve the morrow's night.
And she slept soft and warm on his broad back.

Now at last they reached a noble castle where a large company of lords
and ladies were assembled, and greatly the company wondered at the sight
of these strange companions. And they invited the girl to supper, but
the Black Bull they turned into the field, and left to spend the night
after his kind.

But when the next morning came, there he was ready for his burden again.
Now, though the girl was loth to leave her pleasant companions, she
remembered her promise, and mounted on his back, so they journeyed on,
and journeyed on, and journeyed on, through many tangled woods and over
many high mountains. And ever the Black Bull chose the smoothest paths
for her and set aside the briars and brambles, while she ate out of his
left ear and drank out of his right.

So at last they came to a magnificent mansion where Dukes and Duchesses
and Earls and Countesses were enjoying themselves. Now the company,
though much surprised at the strange companions, asked the girl in to
supper; and the Black Bull they would have turned into the park for the
night, but that the girl, remembering how well he had cared for her,
asked them to put him into the stable and give him a good feed.

So this was done, and the next morning he was waiting before the
hall-door for his burden; and she, though somewhat loth at leaving the
fine company, mounted him cheerfully enough, and they rode away, and
they rode away, and they rode away, through thick briar brakes and up
fearsome cliffs. But ever the Black Bull trod the brambles underfoot and
chose the easiest paths, while she ate out of his left ear and drank out
of his right, and wanted for nothing, though he had neither bite nor
sup. So it came to pass that he grew tired and was limping with one foot
when, just as the sun was setting, they came to a beautiful palace where
Princes and Princesses were disporting themselves with ball on the green
grass. Now, though the company greatly wondered at the strange
companions, they asked the girl to join them, and ordered the grooms to
lead away the Black Bull to a field.

But she, remembering all he had done for her, said, "Not so! He will
stay with me!" Then seeing a large thorn in the foot with which he had
been limping, she stooped down and pulled it out.

And, lo and behold! in an instant, to every one's surprise, there
appeared, not a frightful monstrous bull, but one of the most beautiful
Princes ever beheld, who fell at his deliverer's feet, thanking her for
having broken his cruel enchantment.

A wicked witch-woman who wanted to marry him had, he said, spelled him
until a beautiful maiden of her own free will should do him a favour.

"But," he said, "the danger is not all over. You have broken the
enchantment by night; that by day has yet to be overcome."

So the next morning the Prince had to resume the form of a bull, and
they set out together; and they rode, and they rode, and they rode, till
they came to a dark and ugsome glen. And here he bade her dismount and
sit on a great rock.

"Here you must stay," he said, "while I go yonder and fight the Old One.
And mind! move neither hand nor foot whilst I am away, else I shall
never find you again. If everything around you turns blue, I shall have
beaten the Old One; but if everything turns red, he will have conquered
me."

And with that, and a tremendous roaring bellow, he set off to find his
foe.

Well, she sate as still as a mouse, moving neither hand nor foot, nor
even her eyes, and waited, and waited, and waited. Then at last
everything turned blue. But she was so overcome with joy to think that
her lover was victorious that she forgot to keep still, and lifting one
of her feet, crossed it over the other!

So she waited, and waited, and waited. Long she sate, and aye she
wearied; and all the time he was seeking for her, but he never found
her.

At last she rose and went she knew not whither, determined to seek for
her lover through the whole wide world. So she journeyed on, and she
journeyed on, and she journeyed on, until one day in a dark wood she
came to a little hut where lived an old, old woman who gave her food and
shelter, and bid her God-speed on her errand, giving her three nuts, a
walnut, a filbert, and a hazel nut, with these words:

  "When your heart is like to break,
     And once again is like to break,
   Crack a nut and in its shell
     That will be that suits you well."

After this she felt heartened up, and wandered on till her road was
blocked by a great hill of glass; and though she tried all she could to
climb it, she could not; for aye she slipped back, and slipped back, and
slipped back; for it was like ice.

Then she sought a passage elsewhere, and round and about the foot of the
hill she went sobbing and wailing, but ne'er a foothold could she find.
At last she came to a smithy; and the smith promised if she would serve
him faithfully for seven years and seven days, that he would make her
iron shoon wherewith to climb the hill of glass. So for seven long years
and seven short days she toiled, and span, and swept, and washed in the
smith's house. And for wage he gave her a pair of iron shoon, and with
them she clomb the glassy hill and went on her way.

Now she had not gone far before a company of fine lords and ladies rode
past her talking of all the grand doings that were to be done at the
young Duke of Norroway's wedding. Then she passed a number of people
carrying all sorts of good things which they told her were for the
Duke's wedding. And at last she came to a palace castle where the
courtyards were full of cooks and bakers, some running this way, some
running that, and all so busy that they did not know what to do first.

Then she heard the horns of hunters and cries of "Room! Room for the
Duke of Norroway and his bride!"

And who should ride past but the beautiful Prince she had but half
unspelled, and by his side was the witch-woman who was determined to
marry him that very day.

Well! at the sight she felt that her heart was indeed like to break, and
over again was like to break, so that the time had come for her to crack
one of the nuts. So she broke the walnut, as it was the biggest, and out
of it came a wonderful wee woman carding wool as fast as ever she could
card.

Now when the witch-woman saw this wonderful thing she offered the girl
her choice of anything in the castle for it.

"If you will put off your wedding with the Duke for a day, and let me
watch in his room to-night," said the girl, "you shall have it."

Now, like all witch-women, the bride wanted everything her own way, and
she was so sure she had her groom safe, that she consented; but before
the Duke went to rest she gave him, with her own hands, a posset so made
that any one who drank it would sleep till morning.

Thus, though the girl was allowed alone into the Duke's chamber, and
though she spent the livelong night sighing and singing:

  "Far have I sought for thee,
   Long have I wrought for thee,
   Near am I brought to thee,
   Dear Duke o' Norroway;
   Wilt thou say naught to me?"

the Duke never wakened, but slept on. So when day came the girl had to
leave him without his ever knowing she had been there.

Then once again her heart was like to break, and over and over again
like to break, and she cracked the filbert nut, because it was the next
biggest. And out of it came a wonderful wee, wee woman spinning away as
fast as ever she could spin. Now when the witch-bride saw this wonderful
thing she once again put off her wedding so that she might possess it.
And once again the girl spent the livelong night in the Duke's chamber
sighing and singing:

  "Far have I sought for thee,
   Long have I wrought for thee,
   Near am I brought to thee,
   Dear Duke o' Norroway;
   Wilt thou say naught to me?"

But the Duke, who had drunk the sleeping-draught from the hands of his
witch-bride, never stirred, and when dawn came the girl had to leave him
without his ever knowing she had been there.

Then, indeed, the girl's heart was like to break, and over and over and
over again like to break, so she cracked the last nut--the hazel
nut--and out of it came the most wonderful wee, wee, wee-est woman
reeling away at yarn as fast as she could reel.

And this marvel so delighted the witch-bride that once again she
consented to put off her wedding for a day, and allow the girl to watch
in the Duke's chamber the night through, in order to possess it.

Now it so happened that when the Duke was dressing that morning he heard
his pages talking amongst themselves of the strange sighing and singing
they had heard in the night; and he said to his faithful old valet,
"What do the pages mean?"

And the old valet, who hated the witch-bride, said:

"If the master will take no sleeping-draught to-night, mayhap he may
also hear what for two nights has kept me awake."

At this the Duke marvelled greatly, and when the witch-bride brought
him his evening posset, he made excuse it was not sweet enough, and
while she went away to get honey to sweeten it withal, he poured away
the posset and made believe he had swallowed it.

So that night when dark had come, and the girl stole in to his chamber
with a heavy heart thinking it would be the very last time she would
ever see him, the Duke was really broad awake. And when she sate down by
his bedside and began to sing:

                "Far have I sought for thee,"

he knew her voice at once, and clasped her in his arms.

Then he told her how he had been in the power of the witch-woman and had
forgotten everything, but that now he remembered all and that the spell
was broken for ever and aye.

So the wedding feast served for their marriage, since the witch-bride,
seeing her power was gone, quickly fled the country and was never heard
of again.




CATSKIN


Once upon a time there lived a gentleman who owned fine lands and
houses, and he very much wanted to have a son to be heir to them. So
when his wife brought him a daughter, though she was bonny as bonny
could be, he cared nought for her, and said:

"Let me never see her face."

So she grew up to be a beautiful maiden, though her father never set
eyes on her till she was fifteen years old and was ready to be married.

Then her father said roughly, "She shall marry the first that comes for
her." Now when this became known, who should come along and be first but
a nasty, horrid old man! So she didn't know what to do, and went to the
hen-wife and asked her advice. And the hen-wife said, "Say you will not
take him unless they give you a coat of silver cloth." Well, they gave
her a coat of silver cloth, but she wouldn't take him for all that, but
went again to the hen-wife, who said, "Say you will not take him unless
they give you a coat of beaten gold." Well, they gave her a coat of
beaten gold, but still she would not take the old man, but went again
to the hen-wife, who said, "Say you will not take him unless they give
you a coat made of the feathers of all the birds of the air." So they
sent out a man with a great heap of peas; and the man cried to all the
birds of the air, "Each bird take a pea and put down a feather." So each
bird took a pea and put down one of its feathers: and they took all the
feathers and made a coat of them and gave it to her; but still she would
not take the nasty, horrid old man, but asked the hen-wife once again
what she was to do, and the hen-wife said, "Say they must first make you
a coat of catskin." Then they made her a coat of catskin; and she put it
on, and tied up her other coats into a bundle, and when it was
night-time ran away with it into the woods.

Now she went along, and went along, and went along, till at the end of
the wood she saw a fine castle. Then she hid her fine dresses by a
crystal waterfall and went up to the castle gates and asked for work.
The lady of the castle saw her, and told her, "I'm sorry I have no
better place, but if you like you may be our scullion." So down she went
into the kitchen, and they called her Catskin, because of her dress. But
the cook was very cruel to her, and led her a sad life.

Well, soon after that it happened that the young lord of the castle came
home, and there was to be a grand ball in honour of the occasion. And
when they were speaking about it among the servants, "Dear me, Mrs.
Cook," said Catskin, "how much I should like to go!"

"What! You dirty, impudent slut," said the cook, "you go among all the
fine lords and ladies with your filthy catskin? A fine figure you'd
cut!" and with that she took a basin of water and dashed it into
Catskin's face. But Catskin only shook her ears and said nothing.

Now when the day of the ball arrived, Catskin slipped out of the house
and went to the edge of the forest where she had hidden her dresses.
Then she bathed herself in a crystal waterfall, and put on her coat of
silver cloth, and hastened away to the ball. As soon as she entered all
were overcome by her beauty and grace, while the young lord at once lost
his heart to her. He asked her to be his partner for the first dance;
and he would dance with none other the livelong night.

When it came to parting time, the young lord said, "Pray tell me, fair
maid, where you live?"

But Catskin curtsied and said:

  "Kind sir, if the truth I must tell,
   At the sign of the 'Basin of Water' I dwell."

Then she flew from the castle and donned her catskin robe again, and
slipped into the scullery, unbeknown to the cook.

The young lord went the very next day and searched for the sign of the
"Basin of Water"; but he could not find it. So he went to his mother,
the lady of the castle, and declared he would wed none other but the
lady of the silver dress, and would never rest till he had found her.
So another ball was soon arranged in hopes that the beautiful maid would
appear again.

So Catskin said to the cook, "Oh, how I should like to go!" Whereupon
the cook screamed out in a rage, "What, you, you dirty, impudent slut!
You would cut a fine figure among all the fine lords and ladies." And
with that she up with a ladle and broke it across Catskin's back. But
Catskin only shook her ears, and ran off to the forest, where, first of
all, she bathed, and then she put on her coat of beaten gold, and off
she went to the ball-room.

As soon as she entered all eyes were upon her; and the young lord at
once recognised her as the lady of the "Basin of Water," claimed her
hand for the first dance, and did not leave her till the last. When that
came, he again as

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