Myth-Folklore Unit: Lang's European Fairy Tales II

Overview. Andrew Lang's fairy books contain literally hundreds of stories from different European countries, and using Lang's books I have created two units for this Europe module which feature countries not represented in the other reading options. The tales in this unit come from all over Europe, including Spain and Portugal, Iceland and Lapland, Greece and Serbia, and more besides! Plus, there are audio recordings available for all the Lang stories, which makes these units good options for those of you who like to listen to the stories read aloud. This unit features the terrifying legend of "Blue Beard," based on the French version by Perrault, along with "Toads and Diamonds," also by Perrault. There are comical tales like "Peter Bull," plus stories of supernatural adventure, like "The Seven-Headed Serpent" or "Andras Baive," along with animal fables too, like the story of the little "Half-Chick."

Language. Lang tells the fairy tales in modern literary prose, so it is not difficult reading.

Story Length. The stories in this unit are one or two pages in length.

Navigation. You will find the table of contents below, and you can also use this link to see the story posts displayed on a single page: More European Fairy Tales from Lang.

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Free audiobook available!

READING A:

1. Half-Chick
2. Half-Chick (cont.)
3. Clever Maria
4. Clever Maria (cont.)
5. Blue Beard
6. Blue Beard (cont.)
7. Toads and Diamonds
8. Seven-Headed Serpent
9. Seven-Headed Serpent (cont.)

READING B:

1. Peter Bull
2. Peter Bull (cont.)
3. Master and Pupil
4. The Cottager and his Cat
5. The Cottager and his Cat (cont.)
6. Andras Baive
7. Andras Baive (cont.)
8. The Enchanted Knife
9. The Hazel-Nut Child

European: Half-Chick

This story is part of the Lang's European Fairy Tales II unit. Story source: The Green Fairy Book by Andrew Lang, illustrated by H. J. Ford (1892).

(black hen)

Half-Chick

(a Spanish tale)

[LIBRIVOX AUDIO]

Once upon a time, there was a handsome black Spanish hen who had a large brood of chickens. They were all fine, plump little birds, except the youngest, who was quite unlike his brothers and sisters. Indeed, he was such a strange, queer-looking creature that when he first chipped his shell his mother could scarcely believe her eyes, he was so different from the twelve other fluffy, downy, soft little chicks who nestled under her wings. This one looked just as if he had been cut in two. He had only one leg, and one wing, and one eye, and he had half a head and half a beak.

His mother shook her head sadly as she looked at him and said: 'My youngest born is only a half-chick. He can never grow up a tall, handsome cock like his brothers. They will go out into the world and rule over poultry yards of their own, but this poor little fellow will always have to stay at home with his mother.' And she called him Medio Pollito, which is Spanish for half-chick.

Now though Medio Pollito was such an odd, helpless-looking little thing, his mother soon found that he was not at all willing to remain under her wing and protection. Indeed, in character he was as unlike his brothers and sisters as he was in appearance. They were good, obedient chickens, and when the old hen chicked after them, they chirped and ran back to her side.

But Medio Pollito had a roving spirit in spite of his one leg, and when his mother called to him to return to the coop, he pretended that he could not hear because he had only one ear. When she took the whole family out for a walk in the fields, Medio Pollito would hop away by himself and hide among the Indian corn. Many an anxious minute his brothers and sisters had looking for him while his mother ran to and fro cackling in fear and dismay. As he grew older, he became more self-willed and disobedient, and his manner to his mother was often very rude, and his temper to the other chickens very disagreeable.

One day, he had been out for a longer expedition than usual in the fields. On his return, he strutted up to his mother with the peculiar little hop and kick which was his way of walking and, cocking his one eye at her in a very bold way, he said: 'Mother, I am tired of this life in a dull farmyard, with nothing but a dreary maize field to look at. I'm off to Madrid to see the King.'

'To Madrid, Medio Pollito!' exclaimed his mother. 'Why, you silly chick, it would be a long journey for a grown-up cock, and a poor little thing like you would be tired out before you had gone half the distance. No, no, stay at home with your mother, and someday, when you are bigger, we will go a little journey together.'

But Medio Pollito had made up his mind, and he would not listen to his mother's advice, nor to the prayers and entreaties of his brothers and sisters. 'What is the use of our all crowding each other up in this poky little place?' he said. 'When I have a fine courtyard of my own at the King's palace, I shall perhaps ask some of you to come and pay me a short visit,' and, scarcely waiting to say good-bye to his family, away he stumped down the high road that led to Madrid.

'Be sure that you are kind and civil to everyone you meet,' called his mother, running after him, but he was in such a hurry to be off that he did not wait to answer her or even to look back.

A little later in the day, as he was taking a short cut through a field, he passed a stream. Now the stream was all choked up and overgrown with weeds and water-plants, so that its waters could not flow freely.

'Oh! Medio Pollito,' it cried, as the half-chick hopped along its banks, 'do come and help me by clearing away these weeds.'

'Help you, indeed!' exclaimed Medio Pollito, tossing his head and shaking the few feathers in his tail. 'Do you think I have nothing to do but to waste my time on such trifles? Help yourself, and don't trouble busy travellers. I am off to Madrid to see the King,' and hoppity-kick, hoppity-kick, away stumped Medio Pollito.

A little later, he came to a fire that had been left by some gipsies in a wood. It was burning very low, and would soon be out.

'Oh! Medio Pollito,' cried the fire, in a weak, wavering voice as the half-chick approached, 'in a few minutes I shall go quite out unless you put some sticks and dry leaves upon me. Do help me, or I shall die!'

'Help you, indeed!' answered Medio Pollito. 'I have other things to do. Gather sticks for yourself, and don't trouble me. I am off to Madrid to see the King,' and hoppity-kick, hoppity-kick, away stumped Medio Pollito.

Next: Half-Chick (cont.)

(Royal Palace of Madrid)

(900 words)

European: Half-Chick (cont.)

This story is part of the Lang's European Fairy Tales II unit. Story source: The Green Fairy Book by Andrew Lang, illustrated by H. J. Ford (1892).

Half-Chick (cont.)

(see previous page for audio)

The next morning, as he was getting near Madrid, he passed a large chestnut tree in whose branches the wind was caught and entangled. 'Oh! Medio Pollito,' called the wind, 'do hop up here and help me to get free of these branches. I cannot come away, and it is so uncomfortable.'

'It is your own fault for going there,' answered Medio Pollito. 'I can't waste all my morning stopping here to help you. Just shake yourself off, and don't hinder me, for I am off to Madrid to see the King,' and hoppity-kick, hoppity-kick, away stumped Medio Pollito in great glee, for the towers and roofs of Madrid were now in sight.

When he entered the town, he saw before him a great splendid house, with soldiers standing before the gates. This he knew must be the King's palace, and he determined to hop up to the front gate and wait there until the King came out.

But as he was hopping past one of the back windows the King's cook saw him: 'Here is the very thing I want,' he exclaimed, 'for the King has just sent a message to say that he must have chicken broth for his dinner,' and, opening the window, he stretched out his arm, caught Medio Pollito, and popped him into the broth-pot that was standing near the fire. Oh! how wet and clammy the water felt as it went over Medio Pollito's head, making his feathers cling to his side.

'Water, water!' he cried in his despair, 'do have pity upon me and do not wet me like this.'

'Ah! Medio Pollito,' replied the water, 'you would not help me when I was a little stream away on the fields; now you must be punished.'

Then the fire began to burn and scald Medio Pollito, and he danced and hopped from one side of the pot to the other, trying to get away from the heat and crying out in pain: 'Fire, fire! Do not scorch me like this; you can't think how it hurts.'

'Ah! Medio Pollito,' answered the fire, 'you would not help me when I was dying away in the wood. You are being punished.'

At last, just when the pain was so great that Medio Pollito thought he must die, the cook lifted up the lid of the pot to see if the broth was ready for the King's dinner.

'Look here!' he cried in horror, 'this chicken is quite useless. It is burnt to a cinder. I can't send it up to the royal table,' and, opening the window, he threw Medio Pollito out into the street. But the wind caught him up and whirled him through the air so quickly that Medio Pollito could scarcely breathe, and his heart beat against his side till he thought it would break.

'Oh, wind!' at last he gasped out, 'if you hurry me along like this you will kill me. Do let me rest a moment, or — ' but he was so breathless that he could not finish his sentence.

'Ah! Medio Pollito,' replied the wind, 'when I was caught in the branches of the chestnut tree, you would not help me; now you are punished.' And he swirled Medio Pollito over the roofs of the houses till they reached the highest church in the town, and there he left him fastened to the top of the steeple.

And there stands Medio Pollito to this day. And if you go to Madrid, and walk through the streets till you come to the highest church, you will see Medio Pollito perched on his one leg on the steeple, with his one wing drooping at his side, gazing sadly out of his one eye over the town.

Next: Clever Maria

(600 words)

European: Clever Maria

This story is part of the Lang's European Fairy Tales II unit. Story source: The Crimson Fairy Book by Andrew Lang, illustrated by H. J. Ford (1903).

Clever Maria

(a Portuguese tale)

[LIBRIVOX AUDIO]

There was once a merchant who lived close to the royal palace and had three daughters. They were all pretty, but Maria, the youngest, was the prettiest of the three.

One day, the king sent for the merchant, who was a widower, to give him directions about a journey he wished the good man to take. The merchant would rather not have gone, as he did not like leaving his daughters at home, but he could not refuse to obey the king's commands, and, with a heavy heart, he returned home to say farewell to them.

Before he left, he took three pots of basil and gave one to each girl, saying, 'I am going a journey, but I leave these pots. You must let nobody into the house. When I come back, they will tell me what has happened.'

'Nothing will have happened,' said the girls.

The father went away and, the following day, the king, accompanied by two friends, paid a visit to the three girls, who were sitting at supper. When they saw who was there, Maria said, 'Let us go and get a bottle of wine from the cellar. I will carry the key, my eldest sister can take the light, while the other brings the bottle.'

But the king replied, 'Oh, do not trouble; we are not thirsty.'

'Very well, we will not go,' answered the two elder girls, but Maria merely said, 'I shall go, anyhow.'

She left the room and went to the hall where she put out the light and, putting down the key and the bottle, ran to the house of a neighbour and knocked at the door.

'Who is there so late?' asked the old woman, thrusting her head out of the window.

'Oh, let me in,' answered Maria. 'I have quarrelled with my eldest sister, and as I do not want to fight anymore, I have come to beg you to allow me to sleep with you.'

So the old woman opened the door, and Maria slept in her house. The king was very angry at her for playing truant, but when she returned home the next day, she found the plants of her sisters withered away because they had disobeyed their father.

Now the window in the room of the eldest overlooked the gardens of the king, and when she saw how fine and ripe the medlars were on the trees, she longed to eat some and begged Maria to scramble down by a rope and pick her a few, and she would draw her up again.

Maria, who was good-natured, swung herself into the garden by the rope, and got the medlars, and was just making the rope fast under her arms so as to be hauled up, when her sister cried: 'Oh, there are such delicious lemons a little farther on. You might bring me one or two.'

Maria turned round to pluck them and found herself face to face with the gardener, who caught hold of her, exclaiming, 'What are you doing here, you little thief?'

'Don't call me names,' she said, 'or you will get the worst of it,' giving him as she spoke such a violent push that he fell panting into the lemon bushes. Then she seized the cord and clambered up to the window.

The next day, the second sister had a fancy for bananas and begged so hard, that, though Maria had declared she would never do such a thing again, at last she consented and went down the rope into the king's garden. This time she met the king, who said to her, 'Ah, here you are again, cunning one! Now you shall pay for your misdeeds.'

And he began to cross-question her about what she had done. Maria denied nothing, and when she had finished, the king said again, 'Follow me to the house, and there you shall pay the penalty.'

As he spoke, he started for the house, looking back from time to time to make sure that Maria had not run away. All of a sudden, when he glanced round, he found she had vanished completely, without leaving a trace of where she had gone.

Search was made all through the town, and there was not a hole or corner which was not ransacked, but there was no sign of her anywhere. This so enraged the king that he became quite ill, and for many months his life was despaired of.

Next: Clever Maria (cont.)

(700 words)

European: Clever Maria (cont.)

This story is part of the Lang's European Fairy Tales II unit. Story source: The Crimson Fairy Book by Andrew Lang, illustrated by H. J. Ford (1903).

Clever Maria (cont.)

(see previous page for audio)

Meanwhile, the two elder sisters had married the two friends of the king and were the mothers of little daughters.

Now one day Maria stole secretly to the house where her elder sister lived and, snatching up the children, put them into a beautiful basket she had with her, covered with flowers inside and out so that no one would ever guess it held two babies. Then she dressed herself as a boy and, placing the basket on her head, she walked slowly past the palace, crying as she went: 'Who will carry these flowers to the king, who lies sick of love?'

And the king in his bed heard what she said and ordered one of his attendants to go out and buy the basket. It was brought to his bedside, and, as he raised the lid, cries were heard, and, peeping in, he saw two little children.

He was furious at this new trick which he felt had been played on him by Maria and was still looking at them, wondering how he should pay her out, when he was told that the merchant, Maria's father, had finished the business on which he had been sent and returned home.

Then the king remembered how Maria had refused to receive his visit and how she had stolen his fruit, and he determined to be revenged on her. So he sent a message by one of his pages that the merchant was to come to see him the next day and bring with him a coat made of stone, or else he would be punished.

Now the poor man had been very sad since he got home the evening before, for though his daughters had promised that nothing should happen while he was away, he had found the two elder ones married without asking his leave. And now there was this fresh misfortune, for how was he to make a coat of stone?

He wrung his hands and declared that the king would be the ruin of him when Maria suddenly entered. 'Do not grieve about the coat of stone, dear father, but take this bit of chalk and go to the palace and say you have come to measure the king.'

The old man did not see the use of this, but Maria had so often helped him before that he had confidence in her, so he put the chalk in his pocket and went to the palace.

'That is no good,' said the king, when the merchant had told him what he had come for.

'Well, I can't make the coat you want,' replied he.

'Then if you would save your head, hand over to me your daughter Maria.'

The merchant did not reply but went sorrowfully back to his house where Maria sat waiting for him.

'Oh, my dear child, why was I born? The king says that, instead of the coat, I must deliver you up to him.'

'Do not be unhappy, dear father, but get a doll made, exactly like me, with a string attached to its head, which I can pull for "Yes" and "No."'

So the old man went out at once to see about it.

The king remained patiently in his palace, feeling sure that this time Maria could not escape him, and he said to his pages, 'If a gentleman should come here with his daughter and ask to be allowed to speak with me, put the young lady in my room and see she does not leave it.'

When the door was shut on Maria, who had concealed the doll under her cloak, she hid herself under the couch, keeping fast hold of the string which was fastened to its head.

'Senhora Maria, I hope you are well,' said the king when he entered the room. The doll nodded.

'Now we will reckon up accounts,' continued he, and he began at the beginning, and ended up with the flower-basket, and at each fresh misdeed Maria pulled the string, so that the doll's head nodded assent.

'Who-so mocks at me merits death,' declared the king when he had ended and, drawing his sword, cut off the doll's head. It fell towards him, and as he felt the touch of a kiss, he exclaimed, 'Ah, Maria, Maria, so sweet in death, so hard to me in life! The man who could kill you deserves to die!'

And he was about to turn his sword on himself when the true Maria sprung out from under the bed and flung herself into his arms.

And the next day they were married and lived happily for many years.

Next: Blue Beard

(Queluz Palace, Portugal)

(800 words)

European: Blue Beard

This story is part of the Lang's European Fairy Tales II unit. Story source: The Blue Fairy Book by Andrew Lang, illustrated by H. J. Ford (1889).

(illustration by Walter Crane)

Blue Beard

(a French tale by Perrault)

[LIBRIVOX AUDIO]

THERE was a man who had fine houses, both in town and country, a deal of silver and gold plate, embroidered furniture, and coaches gilded all over with gold. But this man was so unlucky as to have a blue beard, which made him so frightfully ugly that all the women and girls ran away from him.

One of his neighbors, a lady of quality, had two daughters who were perfect beauties. He desired of her one of them in marriage, leaving to her choice which of the two she would bestow on him. They would neither of them have him and sent him backward and forward from one another, not being able to bear the thoughts of marrying a man who had a blue beard — and what besides gave them disgust and aversion was his having already been married to several wives, and nobody ever knew what became of them.

Blue Beard, to engage their affection, took them, with the lady their mother and three or four ladies of their acquaintance, with other young people of the neighborhood, to one of his country seats, where they stayed a whole week.

There was nothing then to be seen but parties of pleasure, hunting, fishing, dancing, mirth, and feasting. Nobody went to bed, but all passed the night in rallying and joking with each other. In short, everything succeeded so well that the youngest daughter began to think the master of the house not to have a beard so very blue and that he was a mighty civil gentleman.

As soon as they returned home, the marriage was concluded. About a month afterward, Blue Beard told his wife that he was obliged to take a country journey for six weeks at least, about affairs of very great consequence, desiring her to divert herself in his absence, to send for her friends and acquaintances, to carry them into the country if she pleased, and to make good cheer wherever she was.

"Here," said he, "are the keys of the two great wardrobes, wherein I have my best furniture; these are of my silver and gold plate, which is not every day in use; these open my strong boxes, which hold my money, both gold and silver; these my caskets of jewels; and this is the master-key to all my apartments. But for this little one here, it is the key of the closet at the end of the great gallery on the ground floor. Open them all; go into all and every one of them — except that little closet, which I forbid you and forbid it in such a manner that, if you happen to open it, there's nothing but what you may expect from my just anger and resentment."

She promised to observe, very exactly, whatever he had ordered, when he, after having embraced her, got into his coach and proceeded on his journey.

Her neighbors and good friends did not stay to be sent for by the new married lady, so great was their impatience to see all the rich furniture of her house, not daring to come while her husband was there because of his blue beard, which frightened them. They ran through all the rooms, closets, and wardrobes, which were all so fine and rich that they seemed to surpass one another.

After that they went up into the two great rooms, where was the best and richest furniture; they could not sufficiently admire the number and beauty of the tapestry, beds, couches, cabinets, stands, tables, and looking- glasses, in which you might see yourself from head to foot; some of them were framed with glass, others with silver, plain and gilded, the finest and most magnificent ever were seen.

They ceased not to extol and envy the happiness of their friend, who in the meantime in no way diverted herself in looking upon all these rich things, because of the impatience she had to go and open the closet on the ground floor. She was so much pressed by her curiosity that, without considering that it was very uncivil to leave her company, she went down a little back staircase, and with such excessive haste that she had twice or thrice like to have broken her neck.

Coming to the closet-door, she made a stop for some time, thinking upon her husband's orders and considering what unhappiness might attend her if she was disobedient, but the temptation was so strong she could not overcome it. She then took the little key, and opened it, trembling, but could not at first see anything plainly, because the windows were shut.

After some moments, she began to perceive that the floor was all covered over with clotted blood, on which lay the bodies of several dead women, ranged against the walls. (These were all the wives whom Blue Beard had married and murdered, one after another.) She thought she should have died for fear, and the key, which she pulled out of the lock, fell out of her hand.

Next: Blue Beard (cont.)

(800 words)

European: Blue Beard (cont.)

This story is part of the Lang's European Fairy Tales II unit. Story source: The Blue Fairy Book by Andrew Lang, illustrated by H. J. Ford (1889).

(illustration by Gustave Dore)

Blue Beard (cont.)

(see previous page for audio)

After having somewhat recovered her surprise, she took up the key, locked the door, and went upstairs into her chamber to recover herself, but she could not, she was so much frightened. Having observed that the key of the closet was stained with blood, she tried two or three times to wipe it off, but the blood would not come out; in vain did she wash it, and even rub it with soap and sand — the blood still remained, for the key was magical and she could never make it quite clean; when the blood was gone off from one side, it came again on the other.

Blue Beard returned from his journey the same evening and said he had received letters upon the road in- forming him that the affair he went about was ended to his advantage. His wife did all she could to convince him she was extremely glad of his speedy return.

Next morning he asked her for the keys, which she gave him, but with such a trembling hand that he easily guessed what had happened.

"What!" said he, "is not the key of my closet among the rest?"

"I must certainly have left it above upon the table," said she.

"Fail not to bring it to me presently," said Blue Beard.

After several goings backward and forward ,she was forced to bring him the key. Blue Beard, having very attentively considered it, said to his wife, "How comes this blood upon the key?"

"I do not know," cried the poor woman, paler than death.

"You do not know!" replied Blue Beard. "I very well know. You were resolved to go into the closet, were you not? Mighty well, madam; you shall go in and take your place among the ladies you saw there."

Upon this she threw herself at her husband's feet and begged his pardon with all the signs of true repentance, vowing that she would never more be disobedient. She would have melted a rock, so beautiful and sorrowful was she; but Blue Beard had a heart harder than any rock!

"You must die, madam," said he, "and that presently."

"Since I must die," answered she (looking upon him with her eyes all bathed in tears), "give me some little time to say my prayers."

"I give you," replied Blue Beard, "half a quarter of an hour, but not one moment more."

When she was alone, she called out to her sister and said to her: "Sister Anne" (for that was her name), "go up, I beg you, upon the top of the tower, and look if my brothers are not coming over; they promised me that they would come today, and if you see them, give them a sign to make haste."

Her sister Anne went up upon the top of the tower, and the poor afflicted wife cried out from time to time: "Anne, sister Anne, do you see anyone coming?"

And sister Anne said: "I see nothing but the sun, which makes a dust, and the grass, which looks green."

In the meanwhile Blue Beard, holding a great sabre in his hand, cried out as loud as he could bawl to his wife: "Come down instantly, or I shall come up to you."

"One moment longer, if you please," said his wife, and then she cried out very softly, "Anne, sister Anne, dost thou see anybody coming?"

And sister Anne answered: "I see nothing but the sun, which makes a dust, and the grass, which is green."

"Come down quickly," cried Blue Beard, "or I will come up to you."

"I am coming," answered his wife, and then she cried, "Anne, sister Anne, dost thou not see anyone coming?"

"I see," replied sister Anne, "a great dust, which comes on this side here."

"Are they my brothers?"

"Alas! No, my dear sister, I see a flock of sheep."

"Will you not come down?" cried Blue Beard

"One moment longer," said his wife, and then she cried out: "Anne, sister Anne, dost thou see nobody coming?"

"I see," said she, "two horsemen, but they are yet a great way off."

"God be praised," replied the poor wife joyfully, "they are my brothers; I will make them a sign, as well as I can, for them to make haste."

Then Blue Beard bawled out so loud that he made the whole house tremble. The distressed wife came down and threw herself at his feet, all in tears, with her hair about her shoulders.

"This signifies nothing," says Blue Beard; "you must die." Then, taking hold of her hair with one hand and lifting up the sword with the other, he was going to take off her head. The poor lady, turning about to him and looking at him with dying eyes, desired him to afford her one little moment to recollect herself.

"No, no," said he, "recommend thyself to God," and was just ready to strike . . .

At this very instant there was such a loud knocking at the gate that Blue Beard made a sudden stop. The gate was opened and presently entered two horsemen, who, drawing their swords, ran directly to Blue Beard. He knew them to be his wife's brothers, one a dragoon, the other a musketeer, so that he ran away immediately to save himself, but the two brothers pursued so close that they overtook him before he could get to the steps of the porch, when they ran their swords through his body and left him dead.

The poor wife was almost as dead as her husband and had not strength enough to rise and welcome her brothers.

Blue Beard had no heirs, and so his wife became mistress of all his estate. She made use of one part of it to marry her sister Anne to a young gentleman who had loved her a long while, another part to buy captains commissions for her brothers, and the rest to marry herself to a very worthy gentleman, who made her forget the ill time she had passed with Blue Beard.

Next: Toads and Diamonds

(1000 words)

European: Toads and Diamonds

This story is part of the Lang's European Fairy Tales II unit. Story source: The Blue Fairy Book by Andrew Lang, illustrated by H. J. Ford (1889).

(illustration by Gustave Dore)

Toads and Diamonds

(a French tale by Perrault)

[LIBRIVOX AUDIO]

THERE was once upon a time a widow who had two daughters. The eldest was so much like her in the face and humor that whoever looked upon the daughter saw the mother. They were both so disagreeable and so proud that there was no living with them.

The youngest, who was the very picture of her father for courtesy and sweetness of temper, was withal one of the most beautiful girls ever seen. As people naturally love their own likeness, this mother even doted on her eldest daughter and at the same time had a horrible aversion for the youngest — she made her eat in the kitchen and work continually.

Among other things, this poor child was forced twice a day to draw water above a mile and a-half off the house and bring home a pitcher full of it. One day, as she was at this fountain, there came to her a poor woman who begged of her to let her drink.

"Oh! Ay, with all my heart, Goody," said this pretty little girl and, rinsing immediately the pitcher, she took up some water from the clearest place of the fountain and gave it to her, holding up the pitcher all the while that she might drink the easier.

The good woman, having drunk, said to her: "You are so very pretty, my dear, so good and so mannerly, that I cannot help giving you a gift."

For this was a fairy, who had taken the form of a poor country woman to see how far the civility and good manners of this pretty girl would go.

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

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

"I beg your pardon, mamma," said the poor girl, "for not making more haste." And in speaking these words, there came out of her mouth two roses, two pearls, and two diamonds.

"What is it I see there?" said the mother, quite astonished. "I think I see pearls and diamonds come out of the girl's mouth! How happens this, child?" This was the first time she had ever called her child.

The poor creature told her frankly all the matter, not without dropping out infinite numbers of diamonds.

"In good faith," cried the mother, "I must send my child thither. Come hither, Fanny; look what comes out of thy sister's mouth when she speaks. Wouldst not thou be glad, my dear, to have the same gift given thee? Thou hast nothing else to do but go and draw water out of the fountain, and when a certain poor woman asks you to let her drink, to give it to her very civilly."

"It would be a very fine sight indeed," said this ill-bred minx, "to see me go draw water."

"You shall go, hussy!" said the mother; "and this minute."

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

She was no sooner at the fountain than she saw coming out of the wood a lady most gloriously dressed who came up to her and asked to drink. This was, you must know, the very fairy who appeared to her sister, but now had taken the air and dress of a princess to see how far this girl's rudeness would go.

"Am I come hither," said the proud, saucy one, "to serve you with water, pray? I suppose the silver tankard was brought purely for your ladyship, was it? However, you may drink out of it, if you have a fancy."

"You are not over and above mannerly," answered the Fairy, without putting herself in a passion. "Well, then, since you have so little breeding and are so disobliging, I give you for a gift that at every word you speak there shall come out of your mouth a snake or a toad."

So soon as her mother saw her coming she cried out: "Well, daughter?"

"Well, mother?" answered the pert hussy, throwing out of her mouth two vipers and two toads.

"Oh! mercy," cried the mother; "what is it I see? Oh! It is that wretch her sister who has occasioned all this, but she shall pay for it," and immediately she ran to beat her. The poor child fled away from her and went to hide herself in the forest, not far from thence.

The King's son, then on his return from hunting, met her and, seeing her so very pretty, asked her what she did there alone and why she cried.

"Alas! Sir, my mamma has turned me out of doors."

The King's son, who saw five or six pearls and as many diamonds come out of her mouth, desired her to tell him how that happened. She thereupon told him the whole story, and so the King's son fell in love with her, and, considering himself that such a gift was worth more than any marriage portion, conducted her to the palace of the King his father and there married her.

As for the sister, she made herself so much hated that her own mother turned her off, and the miserable wretch, having wandered about a good while without finding anybody to take her in, went to a corner of the wood and there died.

Next: Seven-Headed Serpent

(1000 words)

European: Seven-Headed Serpent

This story is part of the Lang's European Fairy Tales II unit. Story source: The Yellow Fairy Book by Andrew Lang, illustrated by H. J. Ford (1894).

Seven-Headed Serpent

(a Modern Greek tale)

[LIBRIVOX AUDIO]

Once upon a time, there was a king who determined to take a long voyage. He assembled his fleet and all the seamen and set out. They went straight on night and day until they came to an island which was covered with large trees, and under every tree lay a lion.

As soon as the King had landed his men, the lions all rose up together and tried to devour them. After a long battle, they managed to overcome the wild beasts, but the greater number of the men were killed. Those who remained alive now went on through the forest and found on the other side of it a beautiful garden, in which all the plants of the world flourished together.

There were also in the garden three springs: the first flowed with silver, the second with gold, and the third with pearls. The men unbuckled their knapsacks and filled them with those precious things.

In the middle of the garden they found a large lake, and when they reached the edge of it, the Lake began to speak and said to them, 'What men are you, and what brings you here? Are you come to visit our king?' But they were too much frightened to answer.

Then the Lake said, 'You do well to be afraid, for it is at your peril that you are come hither. Our king, who has seven heads, is now asleep, but in a few minutes he will wake up and come to me to take his bath! Woe to anyone who meets him in the garden, for it is impossible to escape from him. This is what you must do if you wish to save your lives. Take off your clothes and spread them on the path which leads from here to the castle. The King will then glide over something soft, which he likes very much, and he will be so pleased with that that he will not devour you. He will give you some punishment, but then he will let you go.'

The men did as the Lake advised them and waited for a time. At noon, the earth began to quake, and opened in many places, and out of the openings appeared lions, tigers, and other wild beasts which surrounded the castle, and thousands and thousands of beasts came out of the castle following their king, the Seven-headed Serpent.

The Serpent glided over the clothes which were spread for him, came to the Lake, and asked it who had strewed those soft things on the path. The Lake answered that it had been done by people who had come to do him homage. The King commanded that the men should be brought before him.

They came humbly on their knees and in a few words told him their story. Then he spoke to them with a mighty and terrible voice and said, 'Because you have dared to come here, I lay upon you the punishment. Every year you must bring me from among your people twelve youths and twelve maidens that I may devour them. If you do not do this, I will destroy your whole nation.'

Then he desired one of his beasts to show the men the way out of the garden and dismissed them. They then left the island and went back to their own country, where they related what had happened to them.

Soon the time came round when the king of the beasts would expect the youths and maidens to be brought to him. The King therefore issued a proclamation inviting twelve youths and twelve maidens to offer themselves up to save their country, and immediately many young people, far more than enough, hastened to do so. A new ship was built and set with black sails, and in it the youths and maidens who were appointed for the king of the beasts embarked and set out for his country.

When they arrived there, they went at once to the Lake, and this time the lions did not stir, nor did the springs flow, and neither did the Lake speak. So they waited then, and it was not long before the earth quaked even more terribly than the first time. The Seven-headed Serpent came without his train of beasts, saw his prey waiting for him, and devoured it at one mouthful. Then the ship's crew returned home, and the same thing happened yearly until many years had passed.

Next: Seven-Headed Serpent (cont.)

(700 words)

European: Seven-Headed Serpent (cont.)

This story is part of the Lang's European Fairy Tales II unit. Story source: The Yellow Fairy Book by Andrew Lang, illustrated by H. J. Ford (1894).

(castle in Corfu, Greece)

Seven-Headed Serpent (cont.)

(see previous page for audio)

Now the King of this unhappy country was growing old, and so was the Queen, and they had no children. One day the Queen was sitting at the window, weeping bitterly because she was childless and knew that the crown would therefore pass to strangers after the King's death.

Suddenly a little old woman appeared before her, holding an apple in her hand, and said, 'Why do you weep, my Queen, and what makes you so unhappy?'

'Alas, good mother,' answered the Queen, 'I am unhappy because I have no children.'

'Is that what vexes you?' said the old woman. 'Listen to me. I am a nun from the Spinning Convent, and my mother when she died left me this apple. Whoever eats this apple shall have a child.'

The Queen gave money to the old woman and bought the apple from her. Then she peeled it, ate it, and threw the rind out of the window, and it so happened that a mare that was running loose in the court below ate up the rind.

After a time, the Queen had a little boy, and the mare also had a male foal. The boy and the foal grew up together and loved each other like brothers.

In course of time, the King died, and so did the Queen, and their son, who was now nineteen years old, was left alone. One day, when he and his horse were talking together, the Horse said to him, 'Listen to me, for I love you and wish for your good and that of the country. If you go on every year sending twelve youths and twelve maidens to the King of the Beasts, your country will very soon be ruined. Mount upon my back: I will take you to a woman who can direct you how to kill the Seven-headed Serpent.'

Then the youth mounted his horse, who carried him far away to a mountain which was hollow, for in its side was a great underground cavern. In the cavern sat an old woman spinning. This was the cloister of the nuns, and the old woman was the Abbess. They all spent their time in spinning, and that is why the convent has this name.

All round the walls of the cavern there were beds cut out of the solid rock, upon which the nuns slept, and in the middle a light was burning. It was the duty of the nuns to watch the light in turns that it might never go out, and if anyone of them let it go out, the others put her to death.

As soon as the King's son saw the old Abbess spinning, he threw himself at her feet and entreated her to tell him how he could kill the Seven-headed Serpent.

She made the youth rise, embraced him, and said, 'Know, my son, that it is I who sent the nun to your mother and caused you to be born, and with you the horse, with whose help you will be able to free the world from the monster. I will tell you what you have to do. Load your horse with cotton and go by a secret passage which I will show you, which is hidden from the wild beasts, to the Serpent's palace. You will find the King asleep upon his bed, which is all hung round with bells, and over his bed you will see a sword hanging. With this sword only it is possible to kill the Serpent, because even if its blade breaks, a new one will grow again for every head the monster has. Thus you will be able to cut off all his seven heads. And this you must also do in order to deceive the King: you must slip into his bed-chamber very softly and stop up all the bells which are round his bed with cotton. Then take down the sword gently, and quickly give the monster a blow on his tail with it. This will make him waken up, and if he catches sight of you, he will seize you. But you must quickly cut off his first head, and then wait till the next one comes up. Then strike it off also, and so go on till you have cut off all his seven heads.'

The old Abbess then gave the Prince her blessing, and he set out upon his enterprise, arrived at the Serpent's castle by following the secret passage which she had shown him, and by carefully attending to all her directions he happily succeeded in killing the monster.

As soon as the wild beasts heard of their king's death, they all hastened to the castle, but the youth had long since mounted his horse and was already far out of their reach. They pursued him as fast as they could, but they found it impossible to overtake him, and he reached home in safety. Thus he freed his country from this terrible oppression.

Next: Peter Bull

(800 words)

European: Peter Bull

This story is part of the Lang's European Fairy Tales II unit. Story source: The Pink Fairy Book by Andrew Lang, illustrated by H. J. Ford (1897).

(calf)

Peter Bull

(a Danish tale)

[LIBRIVOX AUDIO]

There once lived in Denmark a peasant and his wife who owned a very good farm but had no children. They often lamented to each other that they had no one of their own to inherit all the wealth that they possessed. They continued to prosper and became rich people, but there was no heir to it all.

One year it happened that they owned a pretty little bull-calf which they called Peter. It was the prettiest little creature they had ever seen — so beautiful and so wise that it understood everything that was said to it, and so gentle and so full of play that both the man and his wife came to be as fond of it as if it had been their own child.

One day the man said to his wife, 'I wonder, now, whether our parish clerk could teach Peter to talk; in that case, we could not do better than adopt him as our son and let him inherit all that we possess.'

'Well, I don't know,' said his wife; 'our clerk is tremendously learned and knows much more than his Paternoster, and I could almost believe that he might be able to teach Peter to talk, for Peter has a wonderfully good head too. You might at least ask him about it.'

Off went the man to the clerk and asked him whether he thought he could teach a bull-calf that they had to speak, for they wished so much to have it as their heir.

The clerk was no fool; he looked round about to see that no one could overhear them and said, 'Oh, yes, I can easily do that, but you must not speak to anyone about it. It must be done in all secrecy, and the priest must not know of it; otherwise, I shall get into trouble, as it is forbidden. It will also cost you something, as some very expensive books are required.'

That did not matter at all, the man said; they would not care so very much what it cost. The clerk could have a hundred dollars to begin with to buy the books. He also promised to tell no one about it and to bring the calf round in the evening.

He gave the clerk the hundred dollars on the spot and, in the evening, took the calf round to him, and the clerk promised to do his best with it. In a week's time he came back to the clerk to hear about the calf and see how it was thriving. The clerk, however, said that he could not get a sight of it, for then Peter would long after him and forget all that he had already learned. He was getting on well with his learning, but another hundred dollars were needed, as they must have more books. The peasant had the money with him, so he gave it to the clerk and went home again with high hopes.

In another week the man came again to learn what progress Peter had made now.

'He is getting on very well,' said the clerk.

'I suppose he can't say anything yet?' said the man.

'Oh, yes,' said the clerk, 'he can say "Moo" now.'

'Do you think he will get on with his learning?' asked the peasant.

'Oh, yes,' said the clerk, 'but I shall want another hundred dollars for books. Peter can't learn well out of the ones that he has got.'

'Well, well,' said the man, 'what must be spent shall be spent.'

So he gave the clerk the third hundred dollars for books and a cask of good old ale for Peter. The clerk drank the ale himself and gave the calf milk, which he thought would be better for it.

Some weeks passed, during which the peasant did not come round to ask after the calf, being frightened lest it should cost him another hundred dollars, for he had begun to squirm a bit at having to part with so much money. Meanwhile the clerk decided that the calf was as fat as it could be, so he killed it. After he had got all the beef out of the way, he went inside, put on his black clothes, and made his way to the peasant's house.

As soon as he had said 'Good-day' he asked, 'Has Peter come home here?'

'No, indeed, he hasn't,' said the man; 'surely he hasn't run away?'

'I hope,' said the clerk, 'that he would not behave so contemptibly after all the trouble I have had to teach him, and all that I have spent upon him. I have had to spend at least a hundred dollars of my own money to buy books for him before I got him so far on. He could say anything he liked now, so he said today that he longed to see his parents again. I was willing to give him that pleasure, but I was afraid that he wouldn't be able to find the way here by himself, so I made myself ready to go with him. When we had got outside the house, I remembered that I had left my stick inside and went in again to get it. When I came out again, Peter had gone off on his own account. I thought he would be here, and if he isn't, I don't know where he is.'

Next: Peter Bull (cont.)

(900 words)

European: Peter Bull (cont.)

This story is part of the Lang's European Fairy Tales II unit. Story source: The Pink Fairy Book by Andrew Lang, illustrated by H. J. Ford (1897).

(Copenhagen, circa 1900)

Peter Bull (cont.)

(see previous page for audio)

The peasant and his wife began to lament bitterly that Peter had run away in this fashion just when they were to have so much joy of him and after they had spent so much on his education. The worst of it was that now they had no heir after all. The clerk comforted them as best he could; he also was greatly distressed that Peter should have behaved in such a way just when he should have gained honour from his pupil. Perhaps he had only gone astray, and he would advertise him at church next Sunday and find out where anyone had seen him. Then he bade them 'Good-bye,' and went home and dined on a good fat veal roast.

Now it so happened that the clerk took in a newspaper, and one day he chanced to read in its columns of a new merchant who had settled in a town at some distance and whose name was 'Peter Bull.' He put the newspaper in his pocket and went round to the sorrowing couple who had lost their heir. He read the paragraph to them and added, 'I wonder, now, whether that could be your bull-calf Peter?'

'Yes, of course it is,' said the man; 'who else would it be?'

His wife then spoke up and said, 'You must set out, good man, and see about him, for it is him, I am perfectly certain. Take a good sum of money with you, too, for who knows but what he may want some cash now that he has turned a merchant!'

Next day the man got a bag of money on his back, and a sandwich in his pocket, and his pipe in his mouth, and set out for the town where the new merchant lived. It was no short way, and he travelled for many days before he finally arrived there. He reached it one morning, just at daybreak, found out the right place, and asked if the merchant was at home. Yes, he was, said the people, but he was not up yet.

'That doesn't matter,' said the peasant, 'for I am his father. Just show me up to his bedroom.'

He was shown up to the room, and as soon as he entered it and caught sight of the merchant, he recognised him at once. He had the same broad forehead, the same thick neck, and same red hair, but in other respects he was now like a human being. The peasant rushed straight up to him and took a firm hold of him. 'O Peter,' said he, 'what a sorrow you have caused us, both myself and your mother, by running off like this just as we had got you well educated! Get up, now, so that I can see you properly and have a talk with you.'

The merchant thought that it was a lunatic who had made his way in to him and thought it best to take things quietly.

'All right,' said he, 'I shall do so at once.' He got out of bed and made haste to dress himself.

'Ay,' said the peasant, 'now I can see how clever our clerk is. He has done well by you, for now you look just like a human being. If one didn't know it, one would never think that it was you we got from the red cow; will you come home with me now?'

'No,' said the merchant, 'I can't find time just now. I have a big business to look after.'

'You could have the farm at once, you know,' said the peasant, 'and we old people would retire. But if you would rather stay in business, of course you may do so. Are you in want of anything?'

'Oh, yes,' said the merchant; 'I want nothing so much as money. A merchant has always a use for that.'

'I can well believe that,' said the peasant, 'for you had nothing at all to start with. I have brought some with me for that very end.' With that he emptied his bag of money out upon the table, so that it was all covered with bright dollars.

When the merchant saw what kind of man he had before him, he began to speak him fair and invited him to stay with him for some days, so that they might have some more talk together.

'Very well,' said the peasant, 'but you must call me "Father."'

'I have neither father nor mother alive,' said Peter Bull.

'I know that,' said the man; 'your real father was sold at Hamburg last Michaelmas, and your real mother died while calving in spring, but my wife and I have adopted you as our own, and you are our only heir, so you must call me "Father."'

Peter Bull was quite willing to do so, and it was settled that he should keep the money while the peasant made his will and left to him all that he had before he went home to his wife, and told her the whole story. She was delighted to hear that it was true enough about Peter Bull — that he was no other than their own bull-calf.

'You must go at once and tell the clerk,' said she, 'and pay him the hundred dollars of his own money that he spent upon our son. He has earned them well, and more besides, for all the joy he has given us in having such a son and heir.'

The man agreed with this, and thanked the clerk for all he had done, and gave him two hundred dollars. Then he sold the farm and removed with his wife to the town where their dear son and heir was living. To him they gave all their wealth and lived with him till their dying day.

Next: Master and Pupil

(1000 words)

European: Master and Pupil

This story is part of the Lang's European Fairy Tales II unit. Story source: The Pink Fairy Book by Andrew Lang, illustrated by H. J. Ford (1897).

Master and Pupil

(a Danish tale)

[LIBRIVOX AUDIO]

There was once a man who had a son who was very clever at reading and took great delight in it. He went out into the world to seek service somewhere, and as he was walking between some mounds, he met a man who asked him where he was going.

'I am going about seeking for service,' said the boy.

'Will you serve me?' asked the man.

'Oh, yes, just as readily you as anyone else,' said the boy.

'But can you read?' asked the man.

'As well as the priest,' said the boy.

Then I can't have you,' said the man. 'In fact, I was just wanting a boy who couldn't read. His only work would be to dust my old books.'

The man then went on his way and left the boy looking after him.

'It was a pity I didn't get that place,' thought he 'That was just the very thing for me.'

Making up his mind to get the situation if possible, he hid himself behind one of the mounds and turned his jacket outside in, so that the man would not know him again so easily. Then he ran along behind the mounds and met the man at the other end of them.

'Where are you going, my little boy?' said the man, who did not notice that it was the same one he had met before.

'I am going about seeking for service,' said the boy.

'Will you serve me?' asked the man.

'Oh, yes, just as readily you as anyone else,' said the boy.

'But can you read?' said the man.

'No, I don't know a single letter,' said the boy.

The man then took him into his service, and all the work he had to do was to dust his master's books. But as he did this, he had plenty of time to read them as well, and he read away at them until at last he was just as wise as his master — who was a great wizard — and could perform all kinds of magic. Among other feats, he could change himself into the shape of any animal, or any other thing that he pleased.

(Sorceror's Apprentice, illustration by Barth)

When he had learned all this, he did not think it worthwhile staying there any longer, so he ran away home to his parents again. Soon after this, there was a market in the next village, and the boy told his mother that he had learned how to change himself into the shape of any animal he chose.

'Now,' said he, 'I shall change myself to a horse, and father can take me to market and sell me. I shall come home again all right.'

His mother was frightened at the idea, but the boy told her that she need not be alarmed; all would be well. So he changed himself to a horse, such a fine horse, too, that his father got a high price for it at the market, but after the bargain was made, and the money paid, the boy changed again to his own shape when no one was looking and went home.

The story spread all over the country about the fine horse that had been sold and then had disappeared, and at last the news came to the ears of the wizard.

'Aha!' said he, 'this is that boy of mine, who befooled me and ran away, but I shall have him yet.'

The next time that there was a market, the boy again changed himself to a horse and was taken thither by his father. The horse soon found a purchaser, and while the two were inside drinking the luck-penny, the wizard came along and saw the horse. He knew at once that it was not an ordinary one, so he also went inside and offered the purchaser far more than he had paid for it, so the latter sold it to him.

The first thing the wizard now did was to lead the horse away to a smith to get a red-hot nail driven into its mouth because after that it could not change its shape again. When the horse saw this, it changed itself to a dove and flew up into the air. The wizard at once changed himself into a hawk and flew up after it. The dove now turned into a gold ring and fell into a girl's lap.

The hawk now turned into a man and offered the girl a great sum of money for the gold ring, but she would not part with it, seeing that it had fallen down to her, as it were, from Heaven. However, the wizard kept on offering her more and more for it, until at last the gold ring grew frightened and changed itself into a grain of barley, which fell on the ground. The man then turned into a hen and began to search for the grain of barley, but this again changed itself to a pole-cat and took off the hen's head with a single snap.

The wizard was now dead, the pole-cat put on human shape, and the youth afterwards married the girl, and from that time forward let all his magic arts alone.

Next: The Cottager and his Cat

(900 words)

European: The Cottager and his Cat

This story is part of the Lang's European Fairy Tales II unit. Story source: The Crimson Fairy Book by Andrew Lang, illustrated by H. J. Ford (1903).

(hut in Iceland, photo by paisson)

The Cottager and his Cat

(an Icelandic tale)

[LIBRIVOX AUDIO]

Once upon a time there lived an old man and his wife in a dirty, tumble-down cottage, not very far from the splendid palace where the king and queen dwelt. In spite of the wretched state of the hut, which many people declared was too bad even for a pig to live in, the old man was very rich for he was a great miser, and lucky besides, and would often go without food all day sooner than change one of his beloved gold pieces.

But after a while, he found that he had starved himself once too often. He fell ill and had no strength to get well again, and in a few days he died, leaving his wife and one son behind him.

The night following his death, the son dreamed that an unknown man appeared to him and said: 'Listen to me: your father is dead, and your mother will soon die, and all their riches will belong to you. Half of his wealth is ill-gotten, and this you must give back to the poor from whom he squeezed it. The other half you must throw into the sea. Watch, however, as the money sinks into the water, and if anything should swim, catch it and keep it, even if it is nothing more than a bit of paper.'

Then the man vanished, and the youth awoke.

The remembrance of his dream troubled him greatly. He did not want to part with the riches that his father had left him, for he had known all his life what it was to be cold and hungry, and now he had hoped for a little comfort and pleasure. Still, he was honest and good-hearted, and if his father had come wrongfully by his wealth, he felt he could never enjoy it, and at last he made up his mind to do as he had been bidden. He found out who were the people who were poorest in the village and spent half of his money in helping them, and the other half he put in his pocket. From a rock that jutted right out into the sea he flung it in. In a moment it was out of sight, and no man could have told the spot where it had sunk, except for a tiny scrap of paper floating on the water. He stretched down carefully and managed to reach it, and on opening it found six shillings wrapped inside. This was now all the money he had in the world.

The young man stood and looked at it thoughtfully. 'Well, I can't do much with this,' he said to himself but, after all, six shillings were better than nothing, and he wrapped them up again and slipped them into his coat.

He worked in his garden for the next few weeks, and he and his mother contrived to live on the fruit and vegetables he got out of it, and then she too died suddenly. The poor fellow felt very sad when he had laid her in her grave, and with a heavy heart he wandered into the forest, not knowing where he was going. By-and-by he began to get hungry and, seeing a small hut in front of him, he knocked at the door and asked if they could give him some milk. The old woman who opened it begged him to come in, adding kindly, that if he wanted a night's lodging he might have it without its costing him anything.

Next: The Cottager and his Cat (cont.)

(600 words)

European: The Cottager and his Cat (cont.)

This story is part of the Lang's European Fairy Tales II unit. Story source: The Crimson Fairy Book by Andrew Lang, illustrated by H. J. Ford (1903).

The Cottager and his Cat (cont.)

(see previous page for audio)

Two women and three men were at supper when he entered and silently made room for him to sit down by them. When he had eaten, he began to look about him and was surprised to see an animal sitting by the fire different from anything he had ever noticed before. It was grey in colour, and not very big, but its eyes were large and very bright, and it seemed to be singing in an odd way, quite unlike any animal in the forest.

'What is the name of that strange little creature?' asked he.

And they answered, 'We call it a cat.'

'I should like to buy it — if it is not too dear,' said the young man; 'it would be company for me.'

And they told him that he might have it for six shillings, if he cared to give so much. The young man took out his precious bit of paper, handed them the six shillings, and the next morning bade them farewell, with the cat lying snugly in his cloak.

For the whole day they wandered through meadows and forests till in the evening they reached a house. The young fellow knocked at the door and asked the old man who opened it if he could rest there that night, adding that he had no money to pay for it.

'Then I must give it to you,' answered the man and led him into a room where two women and two men were sitting at supper. One of the women was the old man's wife, the other his daughter. He placed the cat on the mantel shelf, and they all crowded round to examine this strange beast, and the cat rubbed itself against them, and held out its paw, and sang to them, and the women were delighted and gave it everything that a cat could eat, and a great deal more besides.

After hearing the youth's story and how he had nothing in the world left him except his cat, the old man advised him to go to the palace, which was only a few miles distant, and take counsel of the king, who was kind to everyone and would certainly be his friend. The young man thanked him and said he would gladly take his advice, and early next morning he set out for the royal palace.

He sent a message to the king to beg for an audience and received a reply that he was to go into the great hall, where he would find his Majesty.

The king was at dinner with his court when the young man entered, and he signed to him to come near. The youth bowed low and then gazed in surprise at the crowd of little black creatures who were running about the floor, and even on the table itself. Indeed, they were so bold that they snatched pieces of food from the King's own plate, and if he drove them away, tried to bite his hands, so that he could not eat his food, and his courtiers fared no better.

'What sort of animals are these?' asked the youth of one of the ladies sitting near him.

'They are called rats,' answered the king, who had overheard the question, 'and for years we have tried some way of putting an end to them, but it is impossible. They come into our very beds.'

At this moment something was seen flying through the air. The cat was on the table, and, with two or three shakes, a number of rats were lying dead round him. Then a great scuffling of feet was heard, and in a few minutes the hall was clear.

(woodcut of cat with mouse)

For some minutes the King and his courtiers only looked at each other in astonishment. 'What kind of animal is that which can work magic of this sort?' asked he. And the young man told him that it was called a cat, and that he had bought it for six shillings.

And the King answered: 'Because of the luck you have brought me in freeing my palace from the plague which has tormented me for many years, I will give you the choice of two things. Either you shall be my Prime Minister, or else you shall marry my daughter and reign after me. Say: which shall it be?'

'The princess and the kingdom,' said the young man.

And so it was.

Next: Andras Baive

(700 words)

European: Andras Baive

This story is part of the Lang's European Fairy Tales II unit. Story source: The Orange Fairy Book by Andrew Lang, illustrated by H. J. Ford (1906).

Andras Baive

(a tale from Lapland)

[LIBRIVOX AUDIO]

Once upon a time, there lived in Lapland a man who was so very strong and swift of foot that nobody in his native town of Vadso could come near him if they were running races in the summer evenings. The people of Vadso were very proud of their champion and thought that there was no one like him in the world till, by-and-by, it came to their ears that there dwelt among the mountains a Lapp, Andras Baive by name, who was said by his friends to be even stronger and swifter than the bailiff. Of course not a creature in Vadso believed that and declared that if it made the mountaineers happier to talk such nonsense, why, let them!

The winter was long and cold, and the thoughts of the villagers were much busier with wolves than with Andras Baive when, suddenly, on a frosty day, he made his appearance in the little town of Vadso. The bailiff was delighted at this chance of trying his strength and at once went out to seek Andras and to coax him into giving proof of his vigour.

As he walked along, his eyes fell upon a big eight-oared boat that lay upon the shore, and his face shone with pleasure. 'That is the very thing,' laughed he. 'I will make him jump over that boat.'

Andras was quite ready to accept the challenge, and they soon settled the terms of the wager. He who could jump over the boat without so much as touching it with his heel was to be the winner and would get a large sum of money as the prize. So, followed by many of the villagers, the two men walked down to the sea.

An old fisherman was chosen to stand near the boat to watch fair play and to hold the stakes, and Andras, as the stranger, was told to jump first. Going back to the flag which had been stuck into the sand to mark the starting place, he ran forward, with his head well thrown back, and cleared the boat with a mighty bound. The lookers-on cheered him, and indeed he well deserved it, but they waited anxiously all the same to see what the bailiff would do.

On he came, taller than Andras by several inches, but heavier of build. He too sprang high and well, but as he came down his heel just grazed the edge of the boat. Dead silence reigned amidst the townsfolk, but Andras only laughed and said carelessly: 'Just a little too short, bailiff; next time you must do better than that.'

The bailiff turned red with anger at his rival's scornful words and answered quickly: 'Next time you will have something harder to do.' And turning his back on his friends, he went sulkily home. Andras, putting the money he had earned in his pocket, went home also.

The following spring Andras happened to be driving his reindeer along a great fiord to the west of Vadso. A boy who had met him hastened to tell the bailiff that his enemy was only a few miles off, and the bailiff, disguising himself as a Stalo, or ogre, called his son and his dog and rowed away across the fiord to the place where the boy had met Andras.

Now the mountaineer was lazily walking along the sands, thinking of the new hut that he was building with the money that he had won on the day of his lucky jump. He wandered on, his eyes fixed on the sands, so that he did not see the bailiff drive his boat behind a rock while he changed himself into a heap of wreckage which floated in on the waves. A stumble over a stone recalled Andras to himself and, looking up, he beheld the mass of wreckage.

'Dear me! I may find some use for that,' he said and hastened down to the sea, waiting till he could lay hold of some stray rope which might float towards him. Suddenly — he could not have told why — a nameless fear seized upon him, and he fled away from the shore as if for his life. As he ran, he heard the sound of a pipe, such as only ogres of the Stalo kind were wont to use, and there flashed into his mind what the bailiff had said when they jumped the boat: 'Next time you will have something harder to do.' So it was no wreckage after all that he had seen, but the bailiff himself.

It happened that in the long summer nights up in the mountain, where the sun never set and it was very difficult to get to sleep, Andras had spent many hours in the study of magic, and this stood him in good stead now. The instant he heard the Stalo music, he wished himself to become the feet of a reindeer, and in this guise he galloped like the wind for several miles. Then he stopped to take breath and find out what his enemy was doing. Nothing he could see, but to his ears the notes of a pipe floated over the plain and ever, as he listened, it drew nearer.

A cold shiver shook Andras, and this time he wished himself the feet of a reindeer calf. For when a reindeer calf has reached the age at which he begins first to lose his hair, he is so swift that neither beast nor bird can come near him. A reindeer calf is the swiftest of all things living. Yes, but not so swift as a Stalo, as Andras found out when he stopped to rest, and heard the pipe playing!

Next: Andras Baive (cont.)

(1000 words)