Part 5

Hop-o’-my-Thumb heard all they had said; for when he heard, as he lay in bed, that they were talking of their affairs, he got up softly and slipped under his father’s stool, to hear without being seen. He went to bed again, but did not sleep a wink all the rest of the night, thinking of what he should do. He got up early in the morning, and went to the bank of a brook, where he filled his pockets full of small white pebbles, and then went back home.

They all set out, but Hop-o’-my-Thumb did not say a word to any of his brothers about what he had heard.

They went into a very thick forest, where they could not see one another ten paces apart. The fagot-maker began to cut wood, and the children to gather up the sticks to make fagots. When their father and mother saw them busy at their work, they slipped away from them little by little, and then made their escape all at once by a winding bypath.

When the children found that they were alone they began to cry bitterly. Hop-o’-my-Thumb let them cry on, knowing very well how he could get home again; for, as he came, he had dropped the little white pebbles he had in his pockets all along the way. Then he said to them, “Do not be afraid, my brothers; father and mother have left us here, but I will lead you home again,—only follow me.”

They followed him, and he brought them home through the forest by the very same way by which they had come. At first they dared not go in, but stood outside the door to listen to what their father and mother were saying.

Just as the fagot-maker and his wife reached home, the lord of the manor sent them ten crowns, which he had owed them for a long time, and which they had never expected to get. This gave them new life, for the poor people were almost famished with hunger. As it was a long while since they had eaten, the woman bought as much meat as would satisfy six or eight persons. When they had satisfied their hunger she said: “Alas! where are our poor children now? they would make a good feast of what we have left here. It was you, William, who wished to lose them; I told you we should repent of it. What are they doing now in the forest? Alas! perhaps the wolves have already eaten them up! You are very cruel to have lost your children in this way.”

The fagot-maker grew very impatient at last, for she repeated more than twenty times that they should repent of it, and that she had told him so. He threatened to beat her if she did not hold her tongue. The fagot-maker was, perhaps, even more sorry than his wife, but she teased him, and he could not endure her telling him that she was in the right all the time. She wept bitterly, saying, “Alas! where are my children now,—my poor children?”

She said this once so very loud that the children, who were at the door, heard her and cried out all together, “Here we are! here we are!”

She ran quickly to let them in, and said, as she embraced them: “How happy I am to see you again, my dear children! You must be very tired and very hungry. And you, little Peter, you are dirt all over! Come in and let me get you clean again.”

Peter was her eldest boy, whom she loved more than all the rest, because he had red hair like her own.

They sat down to table, and ate with an appetite which pleased both father and mother, to whom they told—speaking all at once—how frightened they had been in the forest. The good people were delighted to see their children once more, and this joy continued while the ten crowns lasted; but when the money was all gone they fell back again into their former anxiety, and resolved to lose their children again,—and that they might be the surer of doing it, they decided to take them much farther off than before.

They could not talk of this so secretly but that they were overheard by Hop-o’-my-Thumb, who counted on getting out of the difficulty as he had done before; but though he got up very early the next morning to go and pick up some little pebbles, he could not carry out his plan, for he found the house-door double-locked. He did not know what to do; but a little later, when his father had given each of them a piece of bread for their breakfast, it came into his head that he could make his bread do instead of pebbles, by dropping crumbs all along the way as they went, so he put it into his pocket.

Their father and mother led them into the thickest and gloomiest part of the forest, and then, stealing away into a bypath, left them there. Hop-o’-my-Thumb did not worry himself very much at this, for he thought he could easily find the way back by means of his bread that he had scattered all along as he came; but he was very much surprised when he could not find a single crumb,—the birds had come and eaten them all.

They were now in great trouble, for the farther they went the more they went wrong and the deeper they got into the forest. Night came on, and with it a high wind which frightened them desperately. They fancied they heard on every side the howling of wolves coming to eat them up. They hardly dared to speak or turn their heads. Then there came a heavy rain, which wetted them to the very skin. Their feet slipped at every step, and they fell into the mud, getting themselves so covered with dirt that they could not even get it off their hands.

Hop-o’-my-Thumb climbed to the top of a tree to see if he could discover anything. Searching on every side, he saw at last a glimmering light, like that of a candle, but a long way off, and beyond the forest. He came down, but when he was upon the ground he could not see it. This discouraged him very much; but finally, when he had been walking for some time with his brothers towards that side on which he had seen the light, he caught sight of it again as he came out of the wood.

They came at last to the house where this candle was, although not without many frights, for they lost sight of it every time they came into a hollow—which was very often. They knocked at the door and a kind woman came to open it. She asked them what they wanted, and Hop-o’-my-Thumb told her they had lost their way in the forest, and begged to stay and sleep there for charity’s sake. When the woman saw how pretty they were she began to weep, and said to them: “Alas, poor children, you do not know what kind of a place you have come to! Do you know that this house belongs to a cruel ogre who eats up little children?”

“Alas! dear madam,” answered Hop-o’-my-Thumb, who was trembling in every limb, as were his brothers, too, “what shall we do? The wolves of the forest will surely devour us if you refuse us shelter here, and so we would rather the gentleman should eat us. Perhaps he will have pity on us if you are so kind as to entreat him for us.”

The ogre’s wife, who believed that she could hide them from her husband till morning, let them come in, and had them warm themselves at a very good fire, before which a whole sheep was being roasted for the ogre’s supper.

As they were beginning to get warm, they heard three or four great raps at the door: this was the ogre, who was coming home. His wife hurried the children under the bed to hide them, and then went to open the door. The ogre at once asked if supper was ready and the wine drawn, and sat down at the table. The sheep was raw still, but he liked it all the better for that. But in a minute or two he sniffed about to the right and to the left, saying, “I smell fresh meat, I smell fresh meat.”

“What you smell,” said his wife, “must be the calf which I have just killed and dressed.”

“I smell fresh meat, I tell you once more,” said the ogre, looking crossly at his wife, “and there is something here which I do not understand.”

As he spoke these words, he got up from the table, and went straight to the bed.

“Ah,” said he, “that is how you thought to cheat me! Wretch! I do not know why I do not eat you up too; it is well for you that you are old and tough. Here is game which comes just in season to entertain three ogres, friends of mine, who are to pay me a visit in a day or two.”

With that he dragged them out from under the bed one by one. The poor children fell upon their knees and begged for pardon; but they had to deal with the most cruel of ogres, who, far from having any pity for them, had already devoured them with his eyes, and now told his wife they would be dainty morsels when she served them up with a good sauce.

He then fetched a great knife and began to sharpen it on a great whetstone which he held in his left hand; and all the while he came nearer and nearer to the poor children. He had already taken hold of one of them when his wife said to him: “Why do you need to do it at this time of night? Is not to-morrow time enough?”

“Hold your prating!” said the ogre; “they will grow more tender if they are kept a little while after they are killed.”

“But you have so much meat already,” replied his wife; “here are a calf, two sheep, and half a pig.”

“You are right,” said the ogre. “Give them all a good supper, that they may not get thin, and put them to bed.”

The good woman was overjoyed at this, and gave them a good supper; but they were so afraid that they could not eat a bit. As for the ogre, he sat down again to drink, well pleased that he had such a feast with which to treat his friends. He drank a dozen glasses more than usual, which went to his head and soon obliged him to go to bed.

The ogre had seven daughters, who were still little children. These young ogresses had all of them very fine complexions, because they ate raw meat like their father; but they had small gray eyes, quite round, hooked noses, wide mouths, and very long, sharp teeth, set very far apart from each other. They were not very wicked yet, but they gave promise of becoming so, for they had already bitten little children.

They had been put to bed early, all seven in one great bed, each with a crown of gold upon her head. There was another bed of the same size in the room, and in this the ogre’s wife put the seven little boys, and then went to bed herself along with her husband.

Hop-o’-my-Thumb took notice that the ogre’s daughters all had crowns of gold on their heads, and he was so afraid lest the ogre should repent his not killing them, that he got up about midnight, and, taking his brothers’ caps and his own, went very softly and put them on the heads of the seven little ogresses. But he first took off their crowns of gold, and put them on his own head and his brothers’, so that the ogre might take them for his daughters, and his daughters for the little boys whom he wanted to kill.

Everything turned out just as he had thought; for the ogre, waking about midnight, began to feel sorry that he had put off killing the boys till morning, when he might have done it overnight, so he jumped up quickly out of bed, taking his great knife.

“Let us see,” said he, “how our little rogues are getting on, and do the job up at once!”

He groped his way up to his daughters’ room, and went to the bed where the little boys lay, all fast asleep except Hop-o’-my-Thumb, who was terribly afraid when he found the ogre fumbling about his head, as he had done about his brothers’. When he felt the golden crowns, he said, “Truly, I should have done a pretty piece of work last night; it is perfectly evident that I drank too much wine then.”

Next he went to the bed where the girls lay, and when he felt the boys’ caps, he said, “Ah, my merry lads, here you are! let us get to work.”

And saying these words, without more ado he cut the throats of all his seven daughters. Well pleased with what he had done, he went back to bed again.

As soon as Hop-o’-my-Thumb heard the ogre snore, he waked his brothers and told them to put on their clothes quickly and follow him. They stole down softly into the garden and got over the wall. They ran almost all night, trembling all the while, and without knowing where they were going.

The ogre, when he woke, said to his wife, “Go up and dress those young rascals who came here last night.”

The ogress was very much surprised at this goodness of her husband, not dreaming of the manner in which she was to dress them; but, thinking he had ordered her to go up and put on their clothes, she went up, and was horrified when she saw her daughters all dead. She fell in a faint.

The ogre, fearing that his wife would be too long in doing what he had ordered, went up himself to help her. He was no less amazed than his wife at this frightful spectacle.

“Ah! what have I done?” he cried. “But the wretches shall pay for it, and that instantly.”

He threw a pitcher of water upon his wife’s face, and as soon as she came to herself he said, “Bring me quickly my seven-league boots, that I may go and catch them.”

He went out into the country, and after running in all directions he turned at last into the very road where the poor children were, not more than a hundred paces from their father’s house, to which they were running. They espied the ogre, who went at one step from mountain to mountain, and over rivers as easily as the narrowest brooks. Hop-o’-my-Thumb, seeing a hollow rock near the place where they were, made his brothers hide in it, and crowded into it himself, watching always to see what would become of the ogre.

The ogre, who found himself very tired with his long and fruitless journey (for seven-league boots are very tiring to wear), had a great mind to rest himself, and happened to sit down upon the very rock where the little boys had hidden themselves. As he was completely worn out, he fell asleep, and began to snore so frightfully that the poor children were no less afraid of him than when he held up his great knife and was going to cut their throats. Hop-o’-my-Thumb was not so much frightened as his brothers. He told them to run quickly home, while the ogre was sleeping, and not to worry about him. They took his advice and soon got home safely.

Hop-o’-my-Thumb then went up to the ogre, pulled off his boots gently, and put them on his own legs. They were very long and large, but as they were fairy boots they had the gift of becoming big or little according to the legs of those who wore them; so they fitted his feet and legs as well as if they had been made on purpose for him.

As soon as Hop-o’-my-Thumb had made sure of the ogre’s seven-league boots, he went to the palace and offered his services to carry orders from the King to his army,—which was a great way off,—and to bring back the quickest accounts of the battle they were just at that time fighting with the enemy. He thought he could be of more use to the King than all his mail coaches, and so might make his fortune in this manner. He succeeded so well that in a short time he had made money enough to keep himself, his father and mother, and his six brothers (without their having to tire themselves out with working), for all the rest of their lives. He then went home to his father’s house, where he was welcomed with great joy. As the great fame of his boots had been talked of at court by this time, the King sent for him, and employed him on the greatest affairs of state; so that he became one of the richest men in the kingdom.

And now let us see what became of the ogre. He slept so soundly that he never knew that his boots were gone; but he fell from the corner of the rock where Hop-o’-my-Thumb and his brothers had left him, and bruised himself so badly from head to foot that he could not stir. So he was forced to stretch himself out at full length and wait for some one to come and help him.

Now a good many fagot-makers passed near the place where the ogre lay, and when they heard him groan they went up to ask him what was the matter. But the ogre had eaten so many children in his lifetime that he had grown so very big and fat, that these men could not have carried even one of his legs; so they were forced to leave him there. At last night came on, and then a large serpent came out of a wood near by and stung him, so that he died in great pain.

As soon as Hop-o’-my-Thumb heard of the ogre’s death, he told the King—whose great favorite he had become—all that the good-natured ogress had done to save the lives of himself and his brothers. The King was so much pleased at what he heard that he asked Hop-o’-my-Thumb what favor he could bestow on her. Hop-o’-my-Thumb thanked his Majesty, and desired that the ogress might have the noble title of Duchess of Draggletail given to her, which was no sooner asked than granted. The ogress then came to court, and lived happily for many years, enjoying the vast fortune she found in the ogre’s chests. As for Hop-o’-my-Thumb, he grew more witty and brave every day till at last the King made him the greatest lord in the kingdom, and set him over all his affairs.

“AINSEL”

Mistress Lindsay, a widow, and her son Alan, who was a little boy then, lived in a cottage near Rothley. One winter’s night Alan refused to go to bed with his mother, saying, “I wish to sit up for a little while longer, for I am not a bit sleepy.”

His mother told him that if he sat up by himself the old fairy wife would most certainly come and take him away. But the boy laughed at this, and his mother went to bed, leaving him sitting by the fire.

He had not been there long, watching the fire and enjoying its cheerful warmth, when a bonny little figure, about the size of a child’s doll, hopped down the chimney and alighted on the hearth. The little fellow was somewhat startled at first, but the fairy’s smile as it danced to and fro before him soon overcame his fears. At last he inquired, “What do they call thee?”

“Ainsel,” [1] replied the little thing, tossing its wee head.

After a bit it turned to Alan with the same question, “And what do they call thee?”

“My Ainsel,” answered Alan.

So they began playing together like any two children. Their gambols went on till the fire began to grow dim. But when Alan took up the poker to stir it, a hot cinder fell accidentally upon the foot of his playmate. Her tiny voice was instantly raised to a most terrific yell, and Alan had scarcely time to crouch into the box bed behind his mother before the voice of the old fairy wife was heard shouting: “Who’s done it? Who’s done it?”

“Hoots! it was ‘my Ainsel’!” answered the tiny fairy.

“Why, then,” said her mother, as she kicked her up the chimney, “what’s all this noise for? There’s no one to blame but thine Ainsel.”

PERONELLA

Once upon a time there was a Queen so old and ugly, so bent down under the weight of years and infirmities, that she grew weary of life, unless her youth could be renewed to her. A fairy who had been present at her birth now paid the Queen a visit, and told her that if she could find a young girl willing to change places with her Majesty,—to give her bloom and youth in exchange for the Queen’s old age and scepter,—then the fairy by one wave of her wand would fulfill their desire.

The Queen was delighted, for she would much rather be poor, young, and healthy, than a rich queen who was too old and infirm to enjoy life. She therefore ordered the strictest search to be made throughout her dominions for a young girl who would be willing to give her youth in exchange for age, infirmities, and riches. It was not long before several discontented and ambitious girls came to accept the offer; but when they saw how feeble and helpless the old Queen was, how she could eat nothing but gruels and soups, how wrinkled and withered she was, how many times she said over the same thing, and how she tottered about bent double over her cane, they said they preferred their own conditions, poor and humble as they were, to the riches and the hundred years of her Majesty.

Afterwards there came some persons of a still more ambitious nature; to these the Queen promised grand titles and high honors. At first they were very willing; but when they had stayed a short time with her Majesty, they left the room, shaking their heads and saying, “Of what use would all the Queen possesses be to us, since we should then be so disfigured and so ugly that we should be ashamed to show ourselves to any one?”

At length a young maiden from a country village presented herself. She was exceedingly beautiful, and declared herself willing to accept the crown in exchange for her youth. Her name was Peronella. At first the Queen was very angry at her presumption, for the girl was very poor; but, after all, what did that matter when the Queen’s purpose was to grow young again? She proposed to Peronella to divide the kingdom with her.

“You shall have one half, and I the other,” said she. “Surely that is enough for you, who are but a poor country girl.”

“No,” replied Peronella, “that will not satisfy me at all; I will have the whole, or I will remain a country girl, strong and beautiful and active, while you keep your wrinkles and your hundred years.”

“But,” said the Queen, “what shall I do if I give away my whole kingdom?”

“Do?” said Peronella. “Your Majesty will laugh and dance and sing as I do”; and she laughed and danced and sung before her.

The Queen, who could do nothing like this, asked Peronella how she would amuse herself if she were Queen, for she knew nothing of all the infirmities of age.

“I really cannot be quite sure what I would do,” answered Peronella, “but I have a great mind to try the experiment, for every one says it is such a fine thing to be a queen.”

While the Queen and Peronella were coming to an agreement, the fairy entered the room, and said to the country girl, “Are you willing to make the trial, and see what it is like to be a queen, extremely rich, and a hundred years old?”

“I have no objection,” said Peronella.

In a single instant her skin became wrinkled, her hair turned gray, her teeth dropped out, her back was bent double, and she felt herself become helpless, and crippled, and ill-natured; she was already a hundred years old. The fairy touched a bell, and a crowd of officers and courtiers trooped in, all richly dressed, to do homage to the Queen and fulfill her will. A sumptuous repast was set before her, but she had not the least appetite, and, besides, she could eat nothing but soups and gruels; she did not know what to say, or how to behave, and was ashamed of the figure she must be making, especially as she sat where she could see herself in a looking-glass, and know all the time how very ugly she was.

In the meanwhile the real Queen stood in a corner, smiling all the time to see how fresh and comely she had become. Her hair was beautiful, her skin was soft and rosy, her teeth were white and firm, and her figure was strong and tall. She could skip about as nimbly as a deer; but she was dressed in a coarse, rough, short petticoat, and her cap and apron were poor and torn. She scarcely dared move in such clothes as these, and the guards, who never allowed such countrified, ragged-looking people within the palace gates, pushed her about with the greatest rudeness. Peronella, who was watching her, now said: “I see it is quite dreadful to you not to be queen, and it is still more so to me to be one. Pray, take your crown again, and give me my ragged petticoat.”

The change was immediately made: the Queen grew old again, and Peronella was as young and blooming as she had been before. Hardly had this taken place when each began to repent of her haste and to wish she had tried a little longer. But it was now too late; the fairy required them to remain forever in their own conditions. The Queen cried all day long over her aches and pains, saying: “Alas, if I were but Peronella! I should, it is true, sleep in a poor cottage and live on potatoes, but I should dance with the shepherds under a shady elm to the music of a flute. Of what use is a bed of down to me, since it gains me neither sleep nor ease; or so many attendants, since they cannot make me comfortable?”