Chapter 4

There was once a princess who had such a beautiful head of hair, streaming down in curls to her feet, and brilliant as a sunbeam, that she was universally called the Fair One with Golden Locks. A neighbouring king, having heard a great deal of her beauty, fell in love with her upon hearsay, and sent an ambassador with a magnificent suite to ask her in marriage, bidding him be sure and not fail to bring the princess home with him. The ambassador did his best to fulfil the king's commands, and made as fair a speech as he could to persuade the lady; but, either she was not in a good temper that day, or his eloquence failed to move her, for she answered, that she thanked the king, but had no mind to marry. So the ambassador returned home with all the presents he had brought, as the princess would not accept anything of a suitor whom she refused, much to the grief of the king, who had made the most splendid preparations to receive her, never doubting but what she would come.

Now there happened to be at court a very handsome young man, named Avenant, who observed, that had he been sent to the Fair One with Golden Locks, he would certainly have persuaded her to come; whereupon some ill-natured persons, who were jealous of the favour he enjoyed, repeated his words to the king, as though he had meant to boast that, being handsomer than his majesty, the princess would certainly have followed him. This threw the king into such a rage, that he ordered poor Avenant to be thrown into a dungeon, where he had nothing but straw to lie upon, and where he would have died of exhaustion had it not been for a little spring that welled forth at the foot of the tower in which he was confined. One day, when he felt as if he were near his end, he could not help exclaiming: "What have I done? and what can have hardened the king's heart against the most faithful of all his subjects?" It chanced that the king passed by just as he uttered these words, and, being melted by his former favourite's grief, he ordered the prison door to be opened, and bid him come forth. Avenant fell at his feet, entreating to know the cause of his disgrace. "Did you not make game both of myself and my ambassador?" said the king; "and did you not boast, that had I sent you to the Fair One with Golden Locks, you would have prevailed on her to return with you?" "True, Sire," replied Avenant; "for I should have set forth all your great qualities so irresistibly, that I am certain she could not have said nay. Methinks there is no treason in that." The king was so convinced of his innocence, that he straightway released Avenant from prison and brought him back to the palace. After having given him a good supper, the king took him into his cabinet, and confessed to him that he was still so in love with the Fair One with Golden Locks, that he had a great mind to send him to obtain her hand, and meant to prepare a splendid equipage befitting the ambassador of a great nation. But Avenant said: "That is not necessary. Only give me a good horse and the necessary credentials, and I will set off to-morrow."

On the following morning Avenant left the court, and set out alone on his journey, thinking as he went of all the fine things he should say to the princess, and stopping ever and anon, when any pretty conceit came into his head, to jot it down on his tablets. One day as he halted for this purpose in a lovely meadow by the side of a rivulet, he perceived a large golden carp that lay gasping upon the grass, having jumped so high to snap at the flies, that she had overreached herself, and was unable to get back into the water. Avenant took pity on her, and, gently lifting her up, restored her to her native element. The carp took a plunge to refresh herself, then reappearing on the surface she said: "Thanks, Avenant, for having saved my life. I will do you a good turn if ever I can." So saying she dived back into the water, leaving Avenant greatly surprised at her civility.

Another time, he saw a crow closely pursued by a large eagle, when, thinking it would be a shame not to defend the weak against the strong, he let fly an arrow that brought the cruel bird of prey to the ground, while the crow perched upon a tree in great delight, crying: "It was very generous of you, Avenant, to help a poor crow like me. But I will prove grateful, and do you a good turn whenever I can."

Avenant was pleased with the crow's good feelings and continued his journey; when, some days after, as he crossed a thick wood, he heard an owl hooting, as if in great distress. After looking about him on all sides, Avenant found the poor owl had got entangled in a net. He soon cut the meshes, and set him free. The owl soared aloft, then, wheeling back, cried, "Avenant, I was caught, and should have been killed without your help. But I am grateful, and will do you a good turn when I can."

Such were the principal adventures that befel Avenant on his journey. When, at last, he reached the capital, where resided the Fair One with Golden Locks, it appeared so magnificent that he thought he should be lucky indeed if he could persuade her to leave such wonders, to come and marry the king, his master. He, however, determined to do his best; so, having put on a brocaded dress, with a richly-embroidered scarf, and hung round his neck a small basket, containing a beautiful little dog he had bought on the road, he asked for admittance at the palace gate with such graceful dignity that the guards all bowed respectfully, and the attendants ran to announce the arrival of another ambassador, named Avenant, from the king, her neighbour.

The princess bid her women fetch the blue brocaded satin gown, and dress her hair with fresh wreaths of flowers; and, when her toilet was completed, she entered her audience chamber, where Avenant was waiting for her. Though dazzled at the sight of her rare beauty, he nevertheless delivered an eloquent harangue, which he wound up by entreating the princess not to give him the pain of returning without her. "Gentle Avenant," replied she, "your speech is fair; but you must know, that, a month ago I let fall into the river a ring that I value above my kingdom, and I made a vow at the time, that I would never listen to a marriage proposal from anybody, unless his ambassador recovered my lost treasure. So you see, were you to talk till doomsday, you could not shake my determination."

Avenant, though surprised and vexed at such an answer, made a low bow, and requested the princess's acceptance of the dog, the basket, and the scarf he wore; but she refused his proffered gifts, and bid him consider of what she had said.

Avenant went to bed supperless that night; nor could he close his eyes for a long while, but kept lamenting that the princess required impossible things to put him off the suit he had undertaken. But his little dog Cabriole bid him be of good cheer, as fortune would no doubt favour him; and though Avenant did not much rely on his good luck, he at length fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.

The next morning Cabriole woke up his master who dressed himself and went to take a walk. His feet insensibly carried him to the river side, when he heard a voice calling out: "Avenant! Avenant!" He looked about him, but seeing no one, was proceeding on his way, when Cabriole, who was looking at the water, cried: "Why, master, as I'm alive, it is a golden carp that is hailing you." Upon which the carp approached, saying: "You saved my life in the meadow, and I promised to be grateful. So here is the ring you are seeking for, gentle Avenant."

He then hastened to the palace, and, requesting an audience of the princess, he presented her the ring, and asked whether she had any objection now to marry his master? On seeing her ring she was greatly amazed; but, being intent on putting him off once more, she replied: "Since you are so ready to fulfil my behests, most gracious Avenant, I pray you do me another service, without which I cannot marry. There lives not far from hence a giant named Galifron, who has threatened to ravage my kingdom unless I granted him my hand. But I could not resolve to marry a monster who is as tall as a tower, who carries cannons in his pocket to serve for pistols, and whose voice is so loud that people grow deaf if they approach too near him. He is daily killing and eating my subjects, and if you want to win my good graces on your master's behalf, you must bring me the giant's head."

Avenant was taken somewhat aback at this proposal; yet, after a few moments reflection, he said, "Well, madam, I am ready to fight Galifron; and, though I may not conquer, I can, at least, die the death of a hero." The princess, who had never expected Avenant would consent, now sought to dissuade him from so rash an attempt; but all she could say proved vain; and, having equipped himself for the fight, he mounted his horse and departed.

As he approached Galifron's castle, he found the road strewed with the bones and carcases of those whom he had devoured or torn to pieces; and presently the giant emerged from a wood, when, seeing Avenant with his sword drawn, he ran at him with his iron club, and would have killed him on the spot, had not a crow come and pecked at his eyes, and made the blood stream down his face; so that, while he aimed his blows at random, Avenant plunged his sword up to the hilt into his heart. Avenant then cut off his head, and the crow perched on a tree, saying: "I have not forgotten how you saved my life by killing the eagle. I promised to do you a good turn, and I have kept my word." "In truth I am greatly beholden to you, master crow," quoth Avenant, as he mounted his horse, and rode off with Galifron's head.

When he reached the city, the inhabitants gathered round him, and accompanied him with loud cheers to the palace. The princess, who had trembled for his safety, was delighted to see him return. "Now madam," said Avenant, "I think you have no excuse left for not marrying my liege lord." "Yes, indeed I have," answered she; "and I shall still refuse him unless you procure me some water from the fountain of beauty. This water lies in a grotto, guarded by two dragons. Inside the grotto is a large hole full of toads and serpents, by which you descend to a small cellar containing the spring. Whoever washes her face with this water retains her beauty, if already beautiful, or becomes beautiful, though ever so ugly. It makes the young remain young, and the old become young again. So you see, Avenant, I cannot leave my kingdom without carrying some of this water away with me." "Methinks, madam," observed Avenant, "you are far too beautiful to need any such water; but, as you seek the death of your humble servant, I must go and die."

Accordingly, Avenant set out with his faithful little dog, and at last reached a high mountain, from the top of which he perceived a rock as black as ink, whence issued clouds of smoke. Presently out came a green and yellow dragon, whose eyes and nostrils were pouring forth fire, and whose tail had at least a hundred coils. Avenant drew his sword, and taking out a phial given him by the Fair One with Golden Locks, said to Cabriole, "I shall never be able to reach the water; so, when I am killed, fill this phial with my blood, and take it to the princess, that she may see what she has cost me, and then go and inform the king, my master, of the fate that has befallen me." While he was speaking, a voice called out: "Avenant! Avenant!" and he perceived an owl in the hollow of a tree, who said: "You freed me from the bird-catcher's net, and I promised to do you a good turn. So give me your phial, and I will go and fetch the water of beauty." And away flew the owl, who, knowing all the turnings and windings of the grotto, soon returned bearing back his prize. After thanking the owl most heartily, Avenant lost no time in going back to the palace, where he presented the bottle to the princess, who now agreed to set out with him for his master's kingdom.

On reaching the capital, the king came forth to meet the Fair One with Golden Locks, and made her the most sumptuous presents. They were then married, amid great festivities and rejoicings; but the queen, who loved Avenant in her heart, could not forbear incessantly reminding the king, that had it not been for Avenant she would never have come, and that it was he alone who had procured her the water of beauty that was to preserve her ever youthful and beautiful. So it happened that some meddling bodies went and told the king that she preferred Avenant to himself, when he became so jealous that he ordered his faithful subject to be thrown into prison, and fed upon nothing but bread and water. When the Fair One with Golden Locks heard of his disgrace, she implored the king to release him, but the more she entreated, the more obstinately his majesty refused. The king now imagined that his wife perhaps did not think him handsome enough, so he had a mind to try the effects of washing his face with the water of beauty. Accordingly, one night he took the phial from off the mantel-piece in the queen's bed-chamber, and rubbed his face well before he went to bed. But, unfortunately, a short time previous the phial had been broken by one of the maids, as she was dusting, and, to avoid a scolding, she had replaced it by a phial which she found in the king's cabinet, containing a wash similar in appearance, but deadly in its effects. The king went to sleep, and died. Cabriole ran to his master to tell him the news, when Avenant bid him go and remind the queen of the poor prisoner. So Cabriole slipped in amongst the crowd of courtiers who had assembled on the king's death, and whispered to her majesty: "Do not forget poor Avenant." The queen then called to mind all he had suffered on her account, and hastening to the tower, she took off his chains with her own white hands, and throwing the royal mantle over his shoulders, and placing a gold crown on his head, she said: "I choose you for my husband, Avenant, and you shall be king." Everybody was delighted at her choice, the wedding was the grandest ever seen, and the Fair One with Golden Locks, and her faithful Avenant, lived happily to a good old age.

BO-PEEP STORY BOOKS.

OLD MOTHER HUBBARD, LTTTLE BO-PEEP, &C., THE THREE BEARS, LITTLE GOODY TWO-SHOES, HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT, DEATH OF COCK ROBIN.

NEW YORK: LEAVITT & ALLEN BROS., No. 8 HOWARD STREET.

THE STORY

OF

=Old Mother Hubbard=.

=Edited by Madame de Chatelain.=

=Old Mother Hubbard.=

Old Mother Hubbard Went to the cupboard, To give her poor dog a bone; But when she came there The cupboard was bare. And so the poor dog had none.

She went to the baker's To buy him some bread, And when she came back Poor doggy was dead.

She went to the joiner's To buy him a coffin, And when she came back The dog was a-laughing

She took a clean dish To get him some tripe. And when she came back He was smoking his pipe.

She went to the ale-house To get him some beer, And when she came back, Doggy sat in a chair.

She went to the tavern For white wine and red, And when she came back The dog stood on his head.

She went to the hatter's To buy him a hat, And when she came back He was feeding the cat.

She went to the barber's To buy him a wig, And when she came back He was dancing a jig.

She went to the fruiterer's To buy him some fruit, And when she came back He was playing the flute.

She went to the tailor's To buy him a coat, And when she came back He was riding a goat.

She went to the cobbler's To buy him some shoes, And when she came back He was reading the news.

She went to the sempstress To buy him some linen, And when she came back The dog was a-spinning.

She went to the hosier's To buy him some hose, And when she came back He was dressed in his clothes.

The dame made a curtsey, The dog made a bow; The dame said, "Your servant," The dog said, "Bow, wow!"

=Little Bo-Peep=;

AND

OTHER TALES.

=Edited by Madame de Chatelain.=

=Little Bo-Peep.=

Little Bo-peep has lost her sheep, And cannot tell where to find 'em; Leave them alone, and they'll come home, And bring their tails behind 'em.

Little Bo-peep fell fast asleep, And dreamt she heard them bleating; When she awoke, she found it a joke, For still they all were fleeting.

Then up she took her little crook, Determined for to find them; She found them indeed, but it made her heart bleed, For they'd left their tails behind them.

It happened one day, as Bo-peep did stray Unto a meadow hard by; There she espied their tails side by side, All hung on a tree to dry.

She heaved a sigh, and wiped her eye, And over the hillocks she raced; And tried what she could, as a shepherdess should, That each tail should be properly placed.

=The Old Woman and her Eggs.=

There was an old woman, as I've heard tell, She went to the market her eggs for to sell, She went to the market, all on a market day, And she fell asleep on the king's highway.

There came a little pedlar, his name it was Stout, He cut off her petticoats all round about; He cut off her petticoats up to her knees, Until her poor knees began for to freeze.

When the little old woman began to awake, She began to shiver, and she began to shake; Her knees began to freeze, and she began to cry, "Oh lawk! oh mercy on me! this surely can't be I.

"If it be not I, as I suppose it be, I have a little dog at home, and he knows me; If it be I, he will wag his little tail, But if it be not I, he'll bark and he'll rail."

Up jumped the little woman, all in the dark, Up jump'd the little dog, and he began to bark; The dog began to bark, and she began to cry, "O lawk! oh mercy on me! I see it is not I."

=Old Mother Goose.=

Old Mother Goose, when She wanted to wander, Would ride through the air On a very fine gander.

Mother Goose had a house 'Twas built in a wood, Where an owl at the door For sentinel stood.

This is her son Jack, A plain-looking lad, He is not very good, Nor yet very bad.

She sent him to market, A live goose he bought; "Here, mother," says he, "It will not go for nought."

Jack's goose and her gander Grew very fond, They'd both eat together, Or swim in one pond.

Jack found one morning, As I have been told, His goose had laid him An egg of pure gold.

Jack rode to his mother, The news for to tell; She call'd him a good boy, And said it was well.

Jack sold his gold egg To a rogue of a Jew, Who cheated him out of The half of his due.

Then Jack went a-courting, A lady so gay, As fair as the lily And sweet as the May.

The Jew and the Squire Came close at his back, And began to belabour The sides of poor Jack.

They threw the gold egg In the midst of the sea; But Jack he jump'd in, And got it back presently.

The Jew got the goose, Which he vow'd he would kill, Resolving at once His pockets to fill.

Jack's mother came in, And caught the goose soon, And, mounting its back, flew up to the moon.

THE STORY

OF

=The Three Bears=.

=Edited by Madame de Chatelain.=

=The Story of the Three Bears.=

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

One day, after they had made the porridge for their breakfast, and poured it into their porridge-pots, they walked out into the wood while the porridge was cooling, that they might not burn their mouths by beginning too soon to eat it. And while they were walking, a little girl named Silver-hair came to the house. First she looked in at the window, and then she peeped in at the keyhole; and seeing nobody in the house, she lifted the latch. The door was not fastened, because the Bears were good Bears, who did nobody any harm, and never suspected that anybody would harm them. So little Silver-hair opened the door, and went in; and well pleased she was when she saw the porridge on the table. If she had been a good little girl, she would have waited till the Bears came home, and then, perhaps, they would have asked her to breakfast; for they were good Bears,--a little rough or so, as the manner of Bears is, but for all that very good-natured and hospitable.

So first she tasted the porridge of the Great, Huge Bear, and that was too hot for her. And then she tasted the porridge of the Middle Bear, and that was too cold for her. And then she went to the porridge of the Little, Small, Wee Bear, and tasted that; and that was neither too hot nor too cold, but just right; and she liked it so well, that she ate it all up.

Then little Silver-hair sate down in the chair of the Great, Huge Bear, and that was too hard for her. And then she sate down in the chair of the Middle Bear, and that was too soft for her. And then she sate down in the chair of the Little, Small, Wee Bear, and that was neither too hard nor too soft, but just right. So she seated herself in it, and there she sate till the bottom of the chair came out, and down came her's, plump upon the ground.

Then little Silver-hair went up stairs into the bed-chamber in which the Three Bears slept. And first she lay down upon the bed of the Great, Huge Bear; but that was too high at the head for her. And next she lay down upon the bed of the Middle Bear; and that was too high at the foot for her. And then she lay down upon the bed of the Little, Small, Wee Bear; and that was neither too high at the head nor at the foot, but just right. So she covered herself up comfortably, and lay there till she fell fast asleep.

By this time the Three Bears thought their porridge would be cool enough; so they came home to breakfast. Now little Silver-hair had left the spoon of the Great, Huge Bear standing in his porridge.

"Somebody has been at my porridge!"

said the Great, Huge Bear, in his great, rough, gruff voice. And when the Middle Bear looked at his, he saw that the spoon was standing in it too.

"Somebody has been at my porridge!"

said the Middle Bear, in his middle voice.

Then the Little, Small, Wee Bear looked at his, and there was the spoon in the porridge-pot, but the porridge was all gone.

"_Somebody has been at my 'porridge, and has eaten it all up!_"

said the Little, Small, Wee Bear, in his little, small wee voice.