INTRODUCTION

These are not new fairy-tales, the ones in this book that has been newly made for you and placed in your hands. They are old fairy-tales gathered together, some from one country, and some from another. They are old, old, old. As old as the hills or the human race,—as old as truth itself. Long ago, even so long ago as when your grandmother’s grandmother’s grandmother was a little rosy-cheeked girl, and your grandfather’s grandfather’s grandfather was a noisy shouting little boy, these stories were old.

No one knows who first told them, nor where nor when. Perhaps none of them was told by any one particular person. Perhaps they just grew upon the Tree of Wisdom when the world was young, like shining fruit, and our wise and simple first parents plucked them, and gave them to their children to play with, and to taste. They could not harm the children, these fruits from the tree of wisdom, for each one was a lovely globe of truth, rich and wholesome to the taste. Magic fruit, for one could eat and eat, and still the fruit was there as perfect as ever to be handed down through generations, until at last it comes to you, as beautiful as in those days of long ago.

Perhaps you did not know that fairy tales were ever truths, but they are—the best and oldest of them. That does not mean they are facts like the things you see around you or learn from history books. Facts and truths are as different as the body and the spirit. Facts are like the body that we can see and touch and measure; we cannot see or measure the Spirit, but it is there.

We can think of these truths as of different shapes and colors, like pears and apples, and plums and other fruits, each with a different taste and color. But there is one great truth that flows through them all, and you know very well what it is:—evil in the end must always defeat itself, and in the end good always triumphs. The bad magician is tripped up by his own tricks, and the true prince marries the princess and inherits the kingdom. If any one of these stories had told it otherwise, that story would have died and withered away.

So take this book and read, being very sure that only good will come to you however often you read them over and over and over again.

Katharine Pyle.

Mother’s Nursery Tales

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THE SLEEPING BEAUTY

There were once a King and Queen who had no children, though they had been married for many years. At last, however, a little daughter was born to them, and this was a matter of great rejoicing through all the kingdom.

When the time came for the little Princess to be christened, a grand feast was prepared, and six powerful fairies were asked to stand as her godmothers. Unfortunately the Queen forgot to invite the seventh fairy, who was the most powerful of them all, and was also very wicked and malicious.

On the day of the christening the six good fairies came early, in chariots drawn by butterflies, or by doves or wrens or other birds. They were made welcome by the King and Queen, and after some talk they were led to the hall where the feast had been set out. Everything there was very magnificent. There were delicious fruits and meats and pastries and game and everything that could be thought of. The dishes were all of gold, and for each fairy there was a goblet cut from a single precious stone. One was a diamond, one a sapphire, one a ruby, one an emerald, one an amethyst, and one a topaz. The fairies were delighted with the beauty of everything. Even in their own fairy palaces they had no such goblets as those the King had had made for them.

They were just about to take their places at the table when a great noise was heard outside on the terrace. The Queen looked from the window and almost fainted at the sight she saw. The bad fairy had arrived. She had come uninvited, and the Queen guessed that it was for no good that she came. Her chariot was of black iron, and was drawn by four dragons with flaming eyes and brass scales. The fairy sprang from her chariot in haste, and came tapping into the hall with her staff in her hand.

“How is this? How is this?” she cried to the Queen. “Here all my sisters have been invited to come and bring their gifts to the Princess, and I alone have been forgotten.”

The Queen did not know what to answer. She was frightened. However, she tried to hide her fear, and made the seventh fairy as welcome as the others. A place was set for her at the King’s right hand, and he and the Queen tried to pretend they had expected her to come. But for her there was no precious goblet, and when she saw the ones that had been given to the six other fairies her face grew green with envy, and her eyes flashed fire. She ate and drank, but she said never a word.

After the feast the little Princess was brought into the room, and she smiled so sweetly and looked so innocent that only a wicked heart could have planned evil against her.

The first fairy took the child in her arms and said, “My gift to the Princess shall be that of contentment, for contentment is better than gold.”

“Yet gold is good,” said the second fairy, “and I will give her the gift of wealth.”

“Health shall be hers,” said the third, “for wealth is of little use without it.”

“And I,” said the fourth, “will gift her with beauty to win all hearts.”

“And wit to charm all ears,” said the fifth. “That is my gift to her.”

The sixth fairy hesitated, and in that moment the wicked one stepped forward. While the others had spoken she had been swelling with spite like a toad. “And I say,” cried she, “that in her seventeenth year she shall prick her finger with a spindle and fall dead.”

When the Queen heard this she shrieked aloud, and the King grew as pale as death. But the sixth fairy stepped forward.

“Wait a bit,” said she. “I have not spoken yet. I cannot undo what our sister has done, but I say that the Princess shall not really die. She shall fall into a deep sleep that shall last a hundred years, and all in the castle shall sleep with her. At the end of that time she shall be awakened by a kiss.”

When the wicked fairy heard this she was filled with rage, but she had already spoken; she could do no more. She rushed out of the castle and jumped into her chariot, and the dragons carried her away, and where she went no one either knew nor cared.

The other fairies also went away, and they were sad because of what was to happen to the Princess.

But at once the King gave orders that every spinning-wheel and spindle in the land should be destroyed, and when this was done he felt quite happy again. For if all the spindles were gone the Princess could not prick her finger with one; and if she did not prick her finger she would not fall into the enchanted sleep.

So the King and Queen were at peace, and all went well in the castle for seventeen years. All that the fairies had promised to the Princess came true. She was so beautiful that she was the wonder of all who saw her, and so witty and gentle-hearted that everyone loved her. Beside this she had health, wealth, and contentment, and was smiling and joyous from morn till night.

One day the King and Queen went away on a journey, and the Princess took it into her head to mount to a high tower where she had never been before, and to watch for their return from there.

She found the stairs that led to the tower, and then she mounted them, up and up and up, until she was high above the roofs of the castle. At last she reached the very top of the tower, and there was an iron door with a rusty key in it.

The Princess turned the key and the door swung open. Beyond she saw a room, and an old, old, wrinkled woman sat there at a wheel spinning.

The Princess had never seen a spinning-wheel before. It seemed a curious thing to her. She went in and stood close to the old woman so as to see it better.

“What is that you are doing?” she asked.

“I am spinning,” answered the old woman.

“And what is that little thing that flies around so fast?”

“That is a spindle.”

“It is a curious little thing,” said the Princess, and she reached out her hand to touch it. Then the point of the spindle pricked her finger, and at once the Princess sighed, and her eyes closed, and she sank back on a couch in a deep sleep.

Immediately a silence fell also upon all in the castle. The King and Queen had just returned from their journey; they had alighted from their horses and had entered the castle, and just then sleep fell upon them. The courtiers who followed them also fell asleep. The dogs and horses in the courtyard slept, and the pigeons on the eaves. The boy who turned the spit in the kitchen slept and the cook did not scold him, for she too was asleep. The meat did not burn, for the fire was sleeping. Even the flies in the castle and the bees among the flowers hung motionless. All slept.

Then all about the castle sprang up an enchanted forest that shut it in like a wall. The forest grew so dark and high that at last not even the top-most tower of the castle could be seen.

But though the Princess slept she was not forgotten. Many brave princes and heroes came and tried to cut their way through the forest to rescue her, but the boughs and branches were as hard as iron, and moreover as fast as they were cut away they grew again; also they were twisted so closely together that no one could creep between them. Then as years passed by, the brave heroes who had sought the Princess grew old and had children of their own. These, too, grew to be men and married, and at last the Princess was forgotten by all, or was remembered only as an old tale.

At last a hundred years had slipped away, and then a young and handsome Prince came by that way. He had been hunting, and he had ridden so fast and eagerly that he had left his huntsmen far behind. Now he was hot and weary, and seeing a hut he stopped and asked for a drink of water.

The man who lived in the hut was very old. He brought the water the Prince asked for, and after the Prince had drank, he sat awhile and looked about him. “What is that darkness, like a cloud, that I see over yonder?” he asked.

“I cannot tell you for sure,” said the old man, “for it is a long distance away and I have never gone to see. But my grandfather told me once that it was an enchanted forest. He said there was a castle hidden deep in the midst of it, and that in that castle lay a Princess asleep. That Princess, so he said, was the most beautiful Princess in all the world, but a spell had been laid on her, and she was to sleep a hundred years. At the end of that time a Prince was to come and waken her with a kiss.”

“And how long has she slept now?” asked the Prince, and his heart beat in his breast like a bird.

“That I cannot say,” answered the old man, “but a long, long time. My grandfather was an old man when he told me, and he could not remember her.”

The Prince thanked the old man for what he had told him, and then he rode away toward the enchanted forest, and he could not go fast enough, he was in such haste.

When he was at a distance from the forest, it looked like a dark cloud, but as he came nearer it began to grow rosy. All the boughs and briers had begun to bud. By the time he was close to them they were in full flower, and when he reached the edge of the forest the branches divided, leaving an open path before him. Along this path the Prince rode and before long he came to the palace. He entered the courtyard and looked about him wondering. The dogs lay sleeping in the sunshine and never wakened at his coming. The horses stood like statues. The guards slept leaning on their arms.

The Prince dismounted and went on into the palace; on he went through one room after another, and no one woke to stop nor stay him. At last he came to the stairway that led to the tower and he went on up it,—up and up, as the Princess had done before him. He reached the tower-room, and then he stopped, and stood amazed. There on the couch lay a maiden more beautiful than he had ever dreamed of. He could scarcely believe there was such beauty in the world. He looked and looked and then he stooped and kissed her.

At once—on the moment—all through the castle sounded the hum of waking life. The King and Queen, down in the throne-room stirred and rubbed their eyes. The guards started from sleep. The horses stamped, the dogs sprang up barking. The meat in the kitchen began to burn, and the cook boxed the boy’s ears. The courtiers smiled and bowed and simpered.

Up in the tower the Princess opened her eyes, and as soon as she saw the Prince she loved him. He took her hand and raised her from the couch. “Will you be my own dear bride?” said he. And the Princess answered yes.

And so they were married with great rejoicings, and the six fairies came to the wedding and brought with them gifts more beautiful than ever were seen before. As for the seventh fairy, if she did not burst with spite she may be living still. But the Prince and Princess lived happily forever after.

JACK AND THE BEAN-STALK

Jack and his mother lived all alone in a little hut with a garden in front of it, and they had nothing else in the world but a cow named Blackey.

One time Blackey went dry; not a drop of milk would she give. “See there now!” said the mother. “If Blackey doesn’t give us milk we can’t afford to keep her. You’ll have to take her off to market, Jack, and sell her for what you can get.”

Jack was sorry that the little cow had to be sold, but he put a halter around her neck and started off with her.

He had not gone far, when he met a little old man with a long gray beard.

“Well, Jack,” said the little old man, “where are you taking Blackey this fine morning?”

Jack was surprised that the stranger should know his name, and that of the cow, too, but he answered politely, “Oh, I am taking her to market to sell her.”

“There is no need for you to go as far as that,” said the little old man, “for I will buy her from you for a price.”

“What price would you give me?” asked Jack, for he was a sharp lad.

“Oh, I will give you a handful of beans for her,” said the old man.

“No, no,” Jack shook his head. “That would be a fine bargain for you; but it is not beans but good silver money that I want for my cow.”

“But wait till you see the beans,” said the old man; and he drew out a handful of them from his pocket. When Jack saw them his eyes sparkled, for they were such beans as he had never seen before. They were of all colors, red and green and blue and purple and yellow, and they shone as though they had been polished. But still Jack shook his head. It was silver pieces his mother wanted, not beans.

“Then I will tell you something further about these beans,” said the man. “This is such a bargain as you will never strike again; for these are magic beans. If you plant them they will grow right up to the sky in a single night, and you can climb up there and look about you if you like.”

When Jack heard that he changed his mind, for he thought such beans as that were worth more than a cow. He put Blackey’s halter in the old man’s hand, and took the beans and tied them up in his handkerchief and ran home with them.

His mother was surprised to see him back from market so soon.

“Well, and have you sold Blackey?” she asked.

Yes, Jack had sold her.

“And what price did you get for her?”

Oh, he got a good price.

“But how much? How much? Twenty-five dollars? Or twenty? Or even ten?”

Oh, Jack had done better than that. He had sold her to an old man down there at the turn of the road for a whole handful of magic beans; and then Jack hastened to untie his handkerchief and show the beans to his mother.

But when the widow heard he had sold the cow for beans she was ready to cry for anger. She did not care how pretty they were, and as to their being magic beans she knew better than to believe that. She gave Jack such a box on the ears that his head rang with it, and sent him up to bed without his supper, and the beans she threw out of the window.

The next morning when Jack awoke he did not know what had happened. All of the room was dim and shady and green, and there was no sky to be seen from the window,—only greenness.

He slipped from bed and looked out, and then he saw that one of the magic beans had taken root in the night and grown and grown until it had grown right up to the sky. Jack leaned out of the window and looked up and he could not see the top of the vine, but the bean-stalk was stout enough to bear him, so he stepped out onto it and began to climb.

He climbed and he climbed until he was high above the roof-top and high above the trees. He climbed till he could hardly see the garden down below, and the birds wheeled about him and the wind swayed the bean-stalk. He climbed so high that after awhile he came to the sky country, and it was not blue and hollow as it looks to us down here below. It was a land of flat green meadows and trees and streams, and Jack saw a road before him that led straight across the meadows to a great tall gray castle.

Jack set his feet in the road and began to walk toward the castle.

He had not gone far when he met a lovely lady, and she was a fairy, though Jack did not know it.

“Where are you going, Jack?” she asked.

“I’m going to yonder castle to have a look at it,” said Jack.

“That is well,” said the lady, “only you must be careful how you poke about there, for that castle belongs to a very fierce and rich and terrible giant: and now I will tell you something: all the riches he has used to belong to your father; the giant stole them from him, so if you can fetch anything away with you it will be a right and fair thing.”

Jack thanked her for what she told him, and then he went on, setting one foot before the other.

After awhile he came to the castle, and there was a woman sweeping the steps, and she was the giant’s wife.

When she saw Jack she looked frightened. “What do you want here?” she cried. “Be off with you before my husband comes home, for if he finds you here it will be the worse for you I can tell you.”

“Yes, yes, I know”; said Jack, “but I’ve had no breakfast, and I’m like to drop I’m so hungry. Just give me a bite to stay my stomach and I’ll be off.” The giant’s wife did not want to do that at all, but Jack begged and coaxed until at last she let him come into the house and got out a bit of bread and cheese for him.

Jack had hardly set down to it when there was a great noise and stamping outside.

“Oh, mercy!” cried the giant’s wife, and she turned quite pale. “There’s my husband coming in, and if he sees you here he’ll swallow you down in a trice, and give me a beating into the bargain.”

When Jack heard that he did not like it at all. “Can you not hide me some place?” he asked.

“Here, creep into this copper pot,” cried the woman, taking off the lid. She helped Jack into the pot and put the lid over him, and she had no more than done it before the giant came stumping into the room.

he roared.

“What nonsense!” said his wife. “If anyone had come here don’t you suppose I would have seen him? A crow flew over the roof and dropped a bone down the chimney, and that is what you smell.”

When she said that the giant believed her. He sat down at the table and called for breakfast. The woman set before him three whole roasted oxen and two loaves of bread each as big as a hogshead, and the giant ate them up in a twinkling.

“Now, wife, bring me my moneybags from the treasure-room,” he said.

His wife went out through a great door studded with nails, and when she came back she brought two bags with her and set them on the table in front of the giant. The giant untied the strings and opened them, and they were full of clinking golden money. The giant sat there and counted and counted the money. After it was all counted he put it back in the bags again, and then he stretched his legs out in front of him and went to sleep and snored until the rafters shook.

The giant’s wife worked around for awhile and then she went into another room. Jack waited until he was sure she had gone, and then he pushed the lid of the pot aside and crept out. He crept over to the table and seized hold of the moneybags and made off with them, and neither the giant nor his wife knew anything about it until Jack was safe down the bean-stalk and home again.

When Jack’s mother saw the moneybags she was filled with wonder and joy. “Those were once your father’s,” said she, “but they were stolen from him, and never did I think to see them again.”

After that Jack and his mother lived well, they had plenty to eat and drink, and good clothes to wear, and everything they wanted. And they were not stingy; they shared their good luck with their neighbors as well.

After awhile the money was almost gone. “I’ll just climb up the bean-stalk again,” said Jack to himself, “and see what else the giant has in his castle.”

He climbed and he climbed and he climbed, and after awhile he came to the giant’s country, and there in front of him lay the road to the castle. Jack walked along briskly, setting one foot in front of the other till he came to the castle door, and as he saw no one he opened the door and stepped inside.

There was the giant’s wife scouring the pots and pans, and when she saw Jack she almost dropped the skillet she was holding.

“You here again?”

“Yes, here I am again,” said Jack.

“Then I wish you were some place else,” said the giant’s wife; “when you were here before our moneybags were stolen, and I can’t help thinking you had something to do with it.”

“Oh, oh! How can you think that?” cried Jack.

“Well, be off with you, anyway”; and the giant’s wife spoke quite glumly. “I want no more strange lads around here.”

Yes, Jack would be off in a moment, but wouldn’t she give him a bite of breakfast first?

No, the giant’s wife wouldn’t, and that was flat.

But Jack was not to be turned off so easily; he talked and begged and argued, and while he was still talking they heard the giant at the door.

The giant’s wife was terribly scared, “Oh, if he finds you here won’t I get a beating!” she cried.

“Quick; into the pot again!”

Jack crawled into the copper pot and the giant’s wife put the lid over him.

The next moment the giant stamped into the room.

he bawled,

“Nonsense,” said his wife, “you’re always fancying things. Here, sit down at the table and eat your breakfast. A crow flew over the roof and dropped a bone in the fire, and that is what you smell.”

The giant sniffed about a bit, and then, still muttering to himself, he sat down at the table and began to eat. After he had finished he cried, “Now wife, bring me my little red hen from the treasure-room.”

His wife went into the treasure-room, and presently she came back with a little red hen in her apron. She set it on the table before the giant. The giant grinned till he showed all his teeth.

“My little red hen, my pretty red hen, lay,” said the giant.

As soon as he said that the hen laid an egg all of pure gold.

“My little red hen, my pretty red hen, lay!” said the giant. Then the little red hen laid another egg.

“My little red hen, my pretty red hen, lay,” said the giant. Then the hen laid a third egg.

“There!” said the giant, “that is enough for to-day. Now, wife, you can take her back to the treasure-room again.”

His wife took up the hen and carried her off to the treasure-room, but when she came back into the kitchen she forgot to shut the treasure-room door behind her.

Then the giant stretched his legs out in front of him and went to sleep and snored till the rafters shook.

His wife worked around in the kitchen, and after awhile, when she wasn’t looking, Jack crept out of the pot. He crept over to the door of the treasure-room and slipped through, and there was the little red hen sitting comfortably on a golden nest.

Jack caught her up under his arm and she never made a sound. Then he crept back through the kitchen and out through the door, and made off down the road, and the giant’s wife never saw him at all.

But just as Jack reached the bean-stalk the hen began to cackle. This woke the giant. “Wife, wife,” he roared, “someone is stealing my little red hen,” and he ran out of the castle and looked all about him; but he could see no one, for Jack was already half-way down the bean-stalk.

After that Jack and his mother never had any lack of anything, for whenever he wanted money he had only to say, “My little red hen, my pretty red hen, lay,” and the hen would lay a gold egg.

Still Jack was not satisfied. He wanted to see what else was in the giant’s castle. So one day, without saying a word to his mother, he climbed the bean-stalk and hurried along the road to the giant’s castle. He did not want to meet the giant’s wife, for he thought maybe she had guessed that it was he who had taken the giant’s hen, and the moneybags, and so indeed she had, and what was more she had told the giant all about it, too.

Jack crept up to the castle very carefully, and he saw no one. He opened the castle door a crack and peeped in, and still he saw no one. He pushed it open a little wider and then he ran in and across the kitchen and hid himself in the great oven.

He had no more than done this before the giant’s wife came in. “Pfu!” said she. “What a draft!” and she closed the outside door. Then she set the giant’s breakfast on the table, still talking to herself. “The door must have blown open,” said she. “I’m sure I closed it when I went out.”

Presently the giant came thumping and stumping into the house. The moment he entered the room he began to bawl—

“What? What?” cried his wife, “I found the door open just now. Do you suppose that dratted boy is in the house again?”

“If he is, I’ll soon put an end to him,” said the giant.

The giant’s wife ran to the copper pot and lifted the lid, and looked inside it, but no one was there. Then she and the giant began to hunt about. They looked in the cupboards and behind the doors, and every place, but they never thought of looking in the oven.

“He can’t be here after all,” said the wife, “or we would have found him. It must be something else you smell.”

So the giant sat down and began to eat his breakfast, but as he ate he mumbled and grumbled to himself.

After he had finished he said, “Wife, bring out my golden harp to sing for me.”

His wife went into the treasure-room and came back carrying a golden harp. She set it on the table before the giant and at once it began to make music, and the music was so beautiful that it melted the heart to hear it. The giant’s wife sat down to listen, too, and presently the music put them both to sleep. Then Jack crept out of the oven and seized the harp and made off with it.

At once the harp began to call, “Master! master! help! Someone is running off with me!”

The giant started out of sleep and looked about him. When he found the harp gone he gave a roar like an angry bull. He ran to the door and there was Jack already more than half-way down the road. “Stop! stop!” cried the giant, but Jack had no idea of stopping. He ran until he reached the bean-stalk, and then he began climbing down it as fast as he could, still carrying the harp.

The giant followed and when he came to the bean-stalk he looked down, and there was Jack far, far below him. The giant was not used to climbing. He did not know whether to follow or not. Then the harp cried again, “Help, master, help!” The giant hesitated no longer. He caught hold of the bean-stalk and began to climb down.

By this time Jack had reached the ground. “Quick! quick, mother!” he cried. “Bring me an ax.”

His mother came running with an ax. She did not know what he wanted it for, but she knew he was in a hurry.

Jack seized the ax and began to chop the bean-stalk. The giant above felt the stalk tremble. “Wait! wait a bit!” he cried, “I want to talk to you!”

But before he could say anything more the bean-stalk was chopped through and fell with a mighty crash, and as the giant fell with it that was the end of him.

But Jack and his mother lived in peace and plenty forever after.

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

There was once a merchant who had three daughters. The two older ones were handsome enough, but the third was a beauty, and no mistake; her eyes were as blue as the sky, her hair was as black as ebony, and her cheeks were like roses. The merchant loved his two older daughters dearly, but this Beauty was the darling of his heart.

Things went along pleasantly for a long time, and the merchant was rich and prosperous, but then things began to go wrong with him. One after another of his ships was lost at sea, and a great part of his fortune with them.

One day the merchant called his daughters to him and said, “My children, I find it will be necessary for me to go on a long journey. I am no longer a rich man, but I wish to bring home a gift to each one of you, so tell me what you would like to have.”

Then the two older daughters began to think of all the things they wanted, and each was afraid the other would get something finer than she did.

At last the eldest spoke, “Dear father,” said she, “I wish you would bring me a velvet robe embroidered with gold, and shoes to match, and a fan to wave in my hand.”

“And I,” said the second, “would like a necklace of pearls, and pearls for my hair, and a fine bracelet.”

The merchant was troubled that his daughters should ask for such costly things, but he did not like to refuse them. “And you, Beauty,” said he, turning to his youngest daughter, “what will you have?”

“Dear father,” said she, “you have given me so much that I have nothing left to wish for; but if you bring me anything at all let it be a rose.”

When her older sisters heard this they were very angry. They thought that Beauty had asked only for a rose so that she might shame them before their father, and make him think she was more unselfish than they were. But Beauty had had no such thought as that.

The merchant smiled at his youngest daughter and kissed her thrice, but his older daughters he kissed only once. Then he mounted his horse and rode away.

He journeyed on for several days, and at last he reached the city he was bound for. Here he found he had lost even more of his fortune than he had thought. He was now a poor man. Still he managed to buy the gifts his two older daughters had asked for, and then with a sad heart he set out for home.

He had not journeyed far, however, when he was overtaken by a storm and lost himself in a deep forest. He rode this way and that, trying to find the way out, and then suddenly he came to an open place, and there he saw before him a magnificent castle.

The merchant was amazed. He had never heard of such a castle in that forest. He rode up to the door and knocked, hoping to find shelter for the night.

Scarcely had he knocked when the great door swung open before him. He entered and looked about, no one was there; everything was silent. Wondering he went on into one room after another. Everything was very magnificent and well arranged, but nowhere was a soul to be seen. At last he came to a room where a supper was set out. The plates were all of gold, and the fruits and meats were of the rarest and most delicious kinds.

The merchant was so hungry that he sat down at the table, and at once the food was served to him by invisible hands, while soft music sounded from a hidden room beyond.

He ate heartily and then arose and went in search of a place to sleep. This he soon found. A bed had been made ready in a large chamber, and here he undressed and lying down he slept until morning without being disturbed.

When he awoke he found his own travel-stained clothes had been taken away. In their place a handsome suit had been laid out, and other necessary things, all of the richest kind. There was also a bag filled with gold pieces. Wondering still more, the merchant arose and dressed and went out into the gardens to look about him. Here everything was more beautiful than any garden he had ever seen before. There were winding paths and fountains, and fruit-trees and flowering plants.

Beside one of the fountains was a rose-bush covered with the roses. The sight of these roses reminded the merchant of Beauty’s wish, and he thought it would be no harm to break off one to carry to her. He chose the largest and finest rose. Scarcely had he plucked it, however, when the air was filled with a sound of thunder, the ground rocked under his feet, and a terrible looking beast appeared before him.

“Miserable man!” cried the Beast, “what have you done? All the best in the castle was offered to you. Why have you broken my rose-bush that is dearer to me than anything in the world? Now for this you must surely die.”

The merchant was terrified. “Oh, dear, good Beast do not kill me!” he cried. “I meant no harm. Only let me go, and I will never trouble you again.”

“No, no,” answered the Beast. “You shall not escape so easily. You have broken my rose-bush and you must suffer for it.”

Still the merchant begged and entreated to be spared and at last the Beast had pity on him. “If I spare your life,” said he, “what will you give me in return for it?”

“Alas,” said the merchant, “what can I give you? I have lost all my fortune and I am now a poor man. I have nothing left in the world but my three daughters.”

“Give me one of your daughters for a wife and I will be satisfied,” said the Beast.

The merchant was horrified at the thought of such a thing. He would have refused, but he feared that if he did so the Beast would tear him to pieces at once.

“You may have three months in which to think it over,” said the Beast. “But you must promise me that at the end of that time you will return here and either bring me one of your daughters or come prepared to die.”

The merchant was obliged to promise this; he could not help himself. As soon as he had promised the Beast disappeared and the man was free to go, and this he was not slow to do.

He rode on toward his home and his heart was heavy within him. He did not see how he could possibly give one of his daughters to be the bride of a hideous beast and yet he did not wish to die.

His daughters met him with joy, and the two older sisters were delighted when they saw the beautiful gifts he had brought them. Only Beauty noticed his sad and downcast looks.

“Dear father,” said she, “why are you troubled? Has something unfortunate happened to you?”

At first her father would not tell her, but she urged and entreated him to tell her until finally he could keep silence no longer. He told his daughters all about the castle and his adventure there and of the Beast, and of how unless one of them would consent to marry the Beast he would have to lose his life.

When the older daughters heard this they were ready to faint. Not even to save their father’s life could they consent to marry such a creature.

“Dear father,” said Beauty, “you shall not die. I will be the Beast’s bride.”

“Yes, yes,” cried her sisters. “That is only right. If Beauty had not asked for the rose this misfortune would not have happened.”

To this the merchant would not at first agree. Beauty was the dearest to him of all his daughters. He had hoped that if any of them was to marry the Beast it might be one of the older sisters. But they would not hear of this and when, at the end of three months, the merchant set out to return to the castle he took Beauty with him.

They rode along and rode along and after awhile they came to the forest, and then it did not take the merchant long to find the castle. He knocked at the door, and it opened as before, and he and Beauty went in through one room after another, and everything was so magnificent that she could not but admire it. At last they came to the supper-room, and here a delicious feast was set out for them. They sat down and ate while soft music sounded around them. Beauty began to think the master of all this could not be such a terrible creature after all.

But scarcely had they finished their supper before the Beast appeared before them, and when Beauty saw him she began to shake and tremble, for he was even more dreadful looking than her father had said.

“Do not fear me, Beauty,” he said in a gentle voice. “I will do you no harm. Your father has brought you here, and it is true that here you must stay, but you need not marry me unless you are quite willing to.”

“I do not wish to marry you, Beast, and you must know that,” said Beauty. “But I fear that if I do not you may harm my father.”

“No, Beauty, I will not harm him. He may go in peace, and perhaps after you have been here awhile you may learn to like me enough to marry me.”

Beauty did not believe this, but the Beast spoke so gently that she no longer feared him and when the time came for her father to go she bade him good-by and did not grieve him by weeping.

After that Beauty lived there in the Beast’s castle and was well content. Every day she went out into the gardens, and the Beast came and played with her for awhile, and she grew very fond of him. Every day before he left her he said, “Beauty, are you willing to marry me?”

But always Beauty answered, “No, dear Beast, I do not wish to marry you.”

Then the Beast would sigh heavily and go away.

One day Beauty was sitting before a large mirror in her room, and she was sad because she had not seen her father for so long.

“I wish,” said she, “that I could see what my dear father is doing at this moment.”

As she said this she raised her eyes to the mirror. What was her surprise to see in it the reflection of a room quite different from the one she was in. It was a room in her own home that she saw reflected there. She saw in it the images of her father and sisters. She could see them smile and move, and she could tell exactly what they were doing. She found she could watch them in the mirror for as long as she pleased and whenever she pleased.

After this Beauty often came to sit before the mirror, and she had only to wish it and she could see her home, and all that was going on there.

But one day when she sat down before the glass she saw that her father was ill. He lay upon his bed so pale and weak that Beauty was terrified. She jumped up and ran out into the garden calling for the Beast.

At once he appeared before her. “What is it?” asked the Beast anxiously. “What has frightened you, Beauty?”

“Alas,” she cried, “my father is ill. Oh, dear, kind Beast let me go to him I pray, and I will love you for ever after.”

The Beast looked very grave. “Very well, Beauty,” he said, “I will let you go, for I can refuse you nothing. But promise me you will return at the end of a week, for if you do not some great misfortune will happen to me.”

Beauty was very willing to promise this. The Beast then gave her a ring set with a large ruby. “When you go to bed to-night,” he said, “turn the ruby in toward the palm of your hand and wish you were in your father’s house, and in the morning you will find you are there. When you are ready to return do the same thing, and you will find yourself back in the castle again. And do not forget that by the end of a week, to an hour, you must return or you will bring suffering upon me.”

Beauty did as the Beast told her. That night when she lay down she turned the ruby of the ring in toward the palm of her hand and wished she were in her father’s house, and what was her joy, when she awakened the next morning, to find herself in her own bed at home. She arose and ran to her father’s room, and the merchant was so delighted to see her that from that hour he began to get better, and in a few days he was as well as ever again.

Beauty’s sisters asked her a great many questions about the castle where she lived, and when they heard how fine it was, and how happy she was there, they were filled with envy. “Beauty always gets the best of everything,” they said to each other. “She is younger than either of us, and see how finely she lives; much better than we do.” They then planned together as to how they could keep Beauty from going back to the castle at the end of the week. “If we can only make her break her promise to the Beast,” said they, “he might be so angry with her that he would send her away and take one of us to live at his castle instead.”

The day before Beauty was to return to the Beast they put a sleeping-powder in the goblet that she drank from.

As soon as Beauty had swallowed this powder she became very sleepy. Her eyelids weighed like lead, and presently she fell into a deep slumber, and she did not awaken for two days and nights. At the end of that time Beauty had a dream, and in her dream she walked in the castle gardens. She came to the rose-bush beside the fountain, and there lay the poor Beast stretched out on the ground, and he was almost dead. He opened his eyes and looked at her sadly. “Ah, Beauty, Beauty,” he said, “why did you break your promise to return at the end of a week? See what suffering you have brought on me.”

Beauty awoke, sobbing bitterly. “Alas, alas!” she cried. “I must go at once. I feel some harm has come to the Beast, and that it is my fault, though how I do not know.” For she did not know she had been asleep for two days and nights.

She turned the ruby ring with the ruby toward the palm of her hand, and wished herself back in the castle and then lay down and went to sleep.

When she awoke she was in the castle again, and it was early morning. She ran out into the garden, and straight to the rose-bush. There, as in her dream, she saw the Beast stretched out on the ground, and he seemed to be without life or breath. Beauty threw herself down on the ground and took his head in her lap, and her tears ran down and fell upon him, and it seemed to her she did not love even her father as dearly as she loved the Beast. “Oh, Beast—dear, dear Beast,” she cried, “can you not hear me? Are you quite, quite dead?”

Then the Beast opened his eyes and looked at her. “Ah, Beauty,” he said, “I thought you had deserted me. Do you not yet love me enough to marry me?”

“Oh, I do! I do love you enough, and gladly will I be your bride,” cried Beauty.

No sooner had she said this than the rough furry hide of the Beast fell apart, and a handsome young prince all dressed in white satin and silver stood before her. Beauty looked at him wondering. “Yes, you shall indeed be my own dear bride,” cried the Prince, “for you and you alone have broken the enchantment that held me.”

Then the Prince, a Beast no longer, told Beauty that a wicked fairy had changed him into the shape of a Beast, and not until a fair young maiden would love him enough to be his bride would the enchantment be broken. But Beauty had loved him for his kindness and goodness in spite of his ugly form, and now never again could the wicked fairy have any power over him.

And now all through the castle was heard a sound of life and of voices and of running to and fro. For the same enchantment that had changed the Prince to a Beast had made all his people invisible, and now, they too were freed from the spell.

Then how happy Beauty was. If she had loved the Beast she loved the handsome young Prince a thousand times better. A grand wedding feast was prepared, and her father and sisters were sent for. Her father was given the place of honor, but it was quite different with her sisters; because of their hard hearts they were changed into two statues and they stood one on either side of the doorway.

But Beauty was too gentle to bear them any ill-will. After she was married she often used to go and stand beside the statues and talk to them, and her tears fell upon them so that after awhile their hard hearts grew soft and the stone melted back to flesh again. Then they were all very happy together. The two sisters were married to two noblemen of the court.

As for Beauty and the Prince, nothing could equal their love for each other, and they lived together happy forever after, and no further harm ever came to them.

JACK-THE-GIANT-KILLER

There was once a stout Cornish lad named Jack who had trained himself in every sort of sport. He could wrestle and throw and swim better than any other lad in the country; indeed there were few, even among the men, who could equal him in strength and skill.

At that time there lived, on an island just off the coast of Cornwall, a giant named Cormoran. This giant was the pest of the whole land. He was twenty feet high, and as broad as any three men. People were so afraid of him that when he waded over from his island to the mainland they all ran and hid in their houses, and then he carried off their flocks and herds as he chose, and asked no leave of anyone. Seven sheep he ate at a meal, and three oxen were not too much for him. There was much complaining through the land because of the way he wasted it.

Now Jack was as bold as he was strong, and he made up his mind to free the people from this scourge of a giant. He waited for a dark night when there was no moon, and then he swam from the mainland over to the island. The waves were high and the water cold, but Jack paid no heed to that. He took with him a pick, a shovel, an ax, and a horn.

As soon as he landed on the island he set to work to dig a pit in front of the giant’s cave—a pit both wide and deep. The giant was asleep, for Jack could hear him snoring in his cave, and so he knew nothing of what was being done by the brave lad.

Toward morning the pit was finished. Then Jack covered it over with branches, and scattered earth and stones over it so that no one could have told it was any different from the ground around it. After that he took his horn and blew a blast both loud and long.

The sound awakened the giant from his sleep, and he sprang to his feet and came stumbling out from his cave. He glared about him and presently his eyes fell upon Jack.

“Miserable dwarf!” he cried. “Is it you who has dared to disturb my sleep? Wait but a moment until I have my hands on you, and I will punish you as you deserve!”

Jack laughed aloud. “I fear you not!” he cried. “And as for punishing me, you will find that easier said than done.”

The giant gave a cry of rage and sprang toward Jack, but no sooner did he step upon the branches that covered the pit than they gave way beneath him, and he fell down into the pit and broke his neck. There he lay without sound or motion, and seeing that he was dead Jack left him where he lay and swam back to the mainland.

When the people learned that the giant was dead and would trouble them no more they went wild with joy. Jack was hailed as a hero and a belt was given him on which were letters of gold that read—

And now the lad was no longer called plain Jack, but Jack-the-Giant-Killer.

Now many miles away in a deep forest there lived still another giant named Blunderbore. This giant was full as strong and great as Cormoran had ever been.

When Blunderbore heard how the Cornish lad had killed Cormoran, and that now he was called “Jack-the-Giant-Killer” he was filled with rage. He swore he would find Jack and destroy him even as Cormoran had been destroyed.

But Jack was no whit afraid. He had made up his mind to altogether free the land from giants; and he wished nothing better than to try his wits with Blunderbore. So one day he took a stout oak in his hand and set out in search of the giant.

He walked along and walked along, and after awhile he came to a forest, and there a cool spring bubbled up in the shade of the trees.

Jack was hungry and thirsty, and tired too, so he sat him down by the spring and ate the bread and cheese he carried, and drank of the fresh water, and then he stretched himself out and went fast asleep.

He had not been long asleep when the giant Blunderbore came by that way. Blunderbore was very much surprised to see a youth lying there and sleeping quietly beside his fountain, for none ever before had dared to venture here into this forest for fear of him.

He saw a glitter of golden letters upon a belt the lad wore, and stooping he read the words—

At once the giant knew who Jack was, and he was filled with joy at the thought that now he had the lad in his power. He did not wait for Jack to waken, but swung him up on his shoulder, and made off with him through the forest.

Now Blunderbore was so tall that his shoulders were up among the branches as he strode along, and the boughs whipped Jack in the face and woke him from his sleep. He was greatly amazed to find himself journeying along among the leaves on the giant’s shoulder instead of resting quietly beside the fountain. However, he was not afraid. “I can do nothing at present,” thought he to himself, “but after awhile the giant will put me down, and then my wits will soon teach me a way to get the better of him.”

The giant strode along without stop or stay until at last he came to a great gloomy castle and, this was where he lived. He carried Jack in through the door into the castle and up a flight of stone steps to a room that was directly over the outer doorway. Here he came to a halt and threw Jack down upon a heap of straw in the corner.

“Lie there for awhile, my little giant-killer,” cried he. “I have a brother who is not only bigger and stronger than I am, but has more wits as well. I will go off and fetch him, and after he gets here then we will decide what to do with you.”

So saying the giant left the room, and after locking the door behind him he made off across the hills in search of his brother.

No sooner was Jack left alone than he began to examine the room. He quickly noticed that the door of the castle was directly under his window. In one corner of the room lay a great coil of rope. Jack took up this rope and made a slip noose in one end of it. This noose he hung from the window. The other end he passed over a great beam overhead. Then he sat down and waited for the monster to return.

He did not have long to wait. Soon he heard the giant and his brother talking and grumbling together as they came up the road to the castle. He waited until they had reached the doorway and were directly under the window. Then he dropped the slip noose over both their heads. Quickly snatching up the other end of the rope he pulled with all his might and drew the two giants up into the air, struggling and kicking. He then leaned from the window and with his sword he cut off both their heads.

It did not take him long after that to slide down the rope and get the keys that hung from Blunderbore’s belt. With these in his hand he reëntered the castle and went all through it, unlocking door after door.

He opened the giant’s treasure-chamber and found it full of gold and silver and jewels and all sorts of precious stuffs that had been stolen from the people of the land, for Blunderbore was a great robber.

In the dungeons under the castle were many merchants and noblemen and fair ladies whom the giant had robbed and kept as prisoners.

When these people found that Jack had come to free them, and that he had killed the giant, they were so glad and grateful that there was nothing they would not have done for the lad. Some of them wept for joy.

Jack led them to the treasure-chamber and bade them take all they could carry of the treasures that were there. They would gladly have left it all for him, but the lad would have none of it.

“No, no,” he said. “I have no need of riches, and if I were loaded down with gold and silver I could not travel about so lightly as I do.”

He bade the grateful people good-by and journeyed on his way, leaving them to find their own way home, which, no doubt they all did in good time.

By evening of the next day Jack was well away from Blunderbore’s forest, and just as he was wondering where he should find food and shelter for the night he came to a great house and saw a light shining from the windows.

He knocked, and the door was opened to him by a giant with two heads. This giant was quite as wicked as either Cormoran or Blunderbore, but he was very sly and cunning. Instead of seizing Jack and throwing him into a dungeon he made him welcome. He set a hot supper before him, and talked with him pleasantly, and after awhile he showed the lad to a room where he could sleep.

But smiling and pleasant though the giant was Jack did not trust him. He felt sure the monster was planning some mischief, so instead of going to bed after the giant left him, he stole to the door of the room and listened. He heard the giant striding up and down, and presently he heard him mutter to himself,

“That you shall not,” thought Jack to himself. “And if you think I am going to get into bed and lie there while you beat me with a cudgel you are mistaken.”

He began to feel about the room, and presently he found a great billet of wood. This he laid in the bed in his place, and drew the coverlet over it, and then he hid in a corner of the room.

Not long afterward the giant opened the door. He crept over to the bed very quietly and felt where the billet of wood was lying under the covers. Then he took his club and beat it until, if Jack had been lying there, he would certainly have been pounded to a jelly. After that the monster went back to his own bed well satisfied, and slept and snored.

But what was his astonishment the next morning when Jack appeared brisk and smiling and without so much as even a bruise upon him.

“Did—did you sleep well last night?” stammered the giant.

“Oh, well enough,” answered Jack, “but a rat must have run over the bed, for I thought I felt him whisk his tail in my face once or twice. I looked for him this morning, but I could not find him, so perhaps I dreamed it.”

When the giant heard this he was frightened. He thought Jack must be a wonderful hero to stand such blows as his and scarcely feel them. However, he said no more, and the two sat down to breakfast together. The giant ate and drank as much as ten men, but Jack had hidden a leather bag under his doublet and he kept slipping the food into this as fast as the giant set it before him. The monster wondered and wondered that such a small man could eat so much.

After breakfast Jack said, “Now I will show you a trick, and if you cannot do the same thing then you will have to own that I am the better fellow of us two.”

To this the giant agreed. Jack then took a knife and ripped open the leather bag that was hidden under his doublet.

“There!” he cried. “Can you do the like?”

The giant was amazed, for he never guessed that it was only a bag that Jack had cut open. However, he was not to be outdone. Catching up a knife he ripped himself open, and that was the end of him.

“The world is well rid of another monster,” said Jack, and leaving the giant where he lay he set out in search of further adventures.

He had not gone far along the road when he met a young prince riding along without any attendants to follow him. This Prince was the son of the great King Arthur of Britain, and he had left his father’s court and ridden out into the world in search of a lovely lady who had been carried off by a magician. This magician held her prisoner by his enchantments and it was to free her that the Prince had ridden forth alone.

When Jack learned who the Prince was, and the adventure he was bent on, he begged to be allowed to go along as an attendant.

“That is all very well,” said the Prince, “but if you travel with me you will fare hard indeed. I have given away all my money, and I do not know where to find food or even a place to sleep.”

“Do not let that trouble you,” said Jack. “Not far from here lives a three-headed giant. He has a fine castle and a well-stocked larder. Only leave the matter to me and I will arrange it so that you can spend the night there and have a fine feast beside.”

At first the Prince was very unwilling to agree to this. The adventure seemed to him a very dangerous one, but in the end Jack persuaded him to agree to it, and mounting on the Prince’s horse he set out for the castle, leaving the Prince to await him by the wayside.

Jack rode briskly along and it did not take him long to reach the castle. He knocked boldly at the door.

“Who is there?” called the giant from within.

“It is your Cousin Jack, and I bring you news,” answered Jack.

The giant opened the door and looked out. “Well, Cousin Jack, and what is the news you bring?”

Why, the news was that a Prince and his company intended to spend the night in the giant’s castle, and were even then almost at the door. If the giant were wise he would flee away and leave the castle to the Prince. Then after the Prince and his company had gone the giant might safely return again.

But no, the monster was not so easily to be scared out of his castle. “I can drive back five hundred men,” cried he, “so why should I be afraid?”

“Yes, but can you drive back two thousand?” asked Jack.

“Two thousand! Two thousand, did you say?” Why that was a different matter, and if the Prince were coming with two thousand men at his back, then it was indeed time for the giant to hide away. He then told Jack where there was a secret chamber all made of iron. There he would hide, and he begged the lad to lock him in, and not, for any cause to unlock the door until the Prince had gone.

This Jack promised. He locked the giant in the secret chamber, and then he rode back to fetch his master.

That night Jack and the Prince feasted right merrily on the good things from the monster’s larder, and the next morning the Prince rode on his way and Jack unlocked the chamber door and let the giant out.

“What a blockhead I am!” cried the monster as soon as he was free. “Yonder in the corner lie the cap of darkness, the cloak of wisdom, and the sword of sharpness. If I had only thought of putting on the cap no one could have seen me, and I would not have had to hide in the secret chamber.”

“That is true,” answered Jack. “But thanks to me you are safe at any rate, and I think I should be rewarded.”

He then asked the giant to give him the cap, the cloak, and the sword, and out of gratitude the giant agreed right gladly. “They will be of more use to you than to me at any rate,” said the giant, “for when I need them most is the time when I forget all about them.”

Jack took the cap, the cloak, and the sword and thanked the giant for the gifts, and at once set out after the Prince, whom he found waiting for him not far away.

They now journeyed on until they came to another castle where they hoped to spend the night. Here they were made welcome, and bidden to feast with the noble lady who was the mistress there. This lady was, indeed, the very one of whom the Prince was in search, but he did not know her, and she did not know him because of the spell of enchantment that was upon her.

After the lady, the Prince, and Jack had feasted together the lady drew out a precious handkerchief and passed it over her lips. “To-morrow,” said she, “you shall tell me to whom I have given this handkerchief in the night. If you cannot tell me this, you shall never leave this castle alive.”

The Prince was greatly troubled when he heard these words, but Jack bade him have no fear. He waited until the lady left them, and then he put the cap of darkness on his head and followed her, and she could not see him because of the cap. She did not know that anyone followed her, and she went out from the castle and along a path to the edge of a wood. There she was met by a tall dark man, and because of the cloak of wisdom which he wore, Jack knew this man at once as a magician.

The lady gave him the handkerchief. “That is well,” said the magician. “To-morrow I will change this bold Prince into another marble statue to adorn my hall. As to his servant I will change him into a dog, a fox, or a deer as the fancy strikes me.”

“That you shall not!” cried Jack, and drawing the sword of sharpness he struck the magician’s head from his shoulders with one blow.

At once the lady was freed from the enchantment, and she looked about her like one wakening from a dream. She did not know where she was nor how she came there.

Jack led her back to the castle and no sooner did the Prince and she meet than they knew each other. They were filled with joy, and the Prince made ready to take her back with him to his father’s court. He wished Jack to come with him, and promised that if he would he should be made a great nobleman, but to this the giant-killer would not consent. He still had work to do in his own country, and he would never leave Wales until it was freed entirely from the pest of giants.

So the Prince and his lady bade Jack farewell, and rode away together, while Jack set out in search of further adventures.

He had traveled a long distance, and night was falling when he heard doleful cries sounding from a wood near by. A moment later a giant came breaking out from the wood dragging a knight and a lady with him. He had captured them and was taking them with him to his cave.

Without a moment’s pause, Jack put on his cap of darkness, and running up close to the giant he cut him down with one single blow of his sword. The lady and the knight were amazed. They had seen no one, and yet the giant had suddenly fallen dead, cleft through with a sword. They were still more amazed when Jack lifted the cap from his head and appeared before them. He then explained to them who he was, and how he had been able to kill the giant so strangely.

“This is a wonderful story,” said the knight, “and you have saved us from worse than death.” He and his lady then begged Jack to come back with them to their castle, and to this he agreed, for he was weary with all his adventures.

When they reached the castle, a great feast was made ready, and Jack was treated with the greatest honor. He sat at the knight’s right hand, and all the best in the castle was none too good for him.