Part 5

But as she still did not come, Hans went out to see how much she had reaped; but nothing was cut, and there lay Alice fast asleep in the corn. Hans hurried home and brought back a fowler’s net with little bells on it; this he hung about her, and still she did not wake. Then he ran home, shut the house door, and sat down to work.

At last, when it was quite dark, Clever Alice woke. When she stood up the net fell rattling about her, and the bells jingled at every step she took. This frightened her, and made her wonder whether she was really Clever Alice or not, and she said to herself, “Is it I, or is it not I?”

But she did not know how to answer, and stood for a long time in doubt. At last she thought, “I will go home and ask if it is I, or if it is not I; they will be sure to know.”

She ran to the door of her house, but it was locked. Then she knocked on the window, and cried, “Hans, is Alice at home?”

“Yes,” answered Hans, “she is at home.”

Then she was frightened and cried, “Alas! then it is not I,” and she ran to the next door; but when the people heard the jingling of the bells they would not open for her, and she could get in nowhere. So she ran away out of the village, and no one has ever seen her since.

RIQUET WITH THE TUFT

There was once a queen who had a son so ugly and misshapen that it was questioned for a long time whether he was a human creature or not. A fairy who was present at his birth declared that he would be none the less amiable for all his ugliness, because he would have uncommon intelligence and wit. She added that he would have the power, by virtue of a gift which she had just bestowed upon him, to give the same talents which he possessed to the person whom he should love best. All this was some comfort to the poor Queen, who was in great distress at having such an unsightly child.

As soon as the child began to talk he said a thousand pretty things, and in everything he did he was so unusually clever that every one was delighted with him. I forgot to tell you that he was born with a little tuft of hair on his head, and on this account they called him Riquet with the Tuft; for Riquet was the family name.

Seven or eight years after this the Queen of a neighboring kingdom had twin daughters. The firstborn was more beautiful than the day. The Queen was so very happy over this that it was feared that such excess of joy would do her harm. The same fairy who had been present at the birth of little Riquet with the Tuft was here too; and to moderate the Queen’s joy she told her that this little Princess should have no sense at all, but should be as stupid as she was pretty. This mortified the Queen very much, but soon she had a still greater sorrow, for the second daughter was extremely ugly.

“Do not afflict yourself so much, madam,” said the fairy. “Your daughter shall have it made up to her in other ways; she shall have so much intelligence and wit that her want of beauty will hardly be noticed.”

“God grant it may be so,” replied the Queen; “but is there no way to make the elder, who is so pretty, have a little sense?”

“I can do nothing for her in the matter of sense,” said the fairy, “but everything in the matter of beauty; and therefore, as there is nothing I would not do for your satisfaction, I will bestow on her as a gift the power to make handsome the person whom she likes best.”

As the two Princesses grew older, their perfections grew with them. Everywhere people talked of the beauty of the elder and of the wit of the younger. It is true that their defects increased considerably with their years. The younger grew visibly uglier, and the elder became more stupid every day; either she made no reply to what was asked her, or she said something very silly. She was, besides, so clumsy that she could not place four pieces of china on the mantelpiece without breaking one, nor drink a glass of water without spilling half of it on her clothes.

Although beauty is a great advantage to a young girl, in society the younger sister was almost always preferred to the elder. People would go first to the more beautiful to see and admire her; but they very soon left her for the more clever sister, to enjoy listening to her pleasant conversation; and it was amazing to see how in less than a quarter of an hour the elder was without a person near her, while the whole company was crowding about the younger. The elder, dull as she was, noticed this very plainly, and would have given, without a moment of regret, all her beauty to have half the wit of her sister. The Queen, for all her good sense, could not help reproaching her often for her stupidity; this made the poor Princess ready to die of grief.

One day, when she had withdrawn to a wood near by to lament her misfortune, she saw coming towards her an ugly little man, very unpleasant to look at, but most magnificently dressed. It was the young Prince Riquet with the Tuft, who had fallen in love with her from her portraits, which were scattered everywhere, and had now left his father’s kingdom to have the pleasure of seeing her and talking with her. He was charmed at finding her thus alone, and addressed her with all imaginable respect and politeness. Having observed, after he had paid her all the usual compliments, that she seemed very melancholy, he said to her, “I cannot understand, madam, how a person as beautiful as you are can be also as sorrowful as you appear to be; for although I can boast of having seen a great number of beautiful ladies, I declare to you that I never saw any one whose beauty approaches yours.”

“You are very kind to say so, sir,” answered the Princess; and here she stopped.

“Beauty,” replied Riquet with the Tuft, “is so great an advantage that it ought to make up for all else; and when any one possesses it, I do not see that there is anything that can afflict her very much.”

“I would much rather,” said the Princess, “be as ugly as you are and have sense, than have the beauty which I possess, and be as stupid as I am.”

“There is nothing, madam, which shows more plainly that we have sense than to believe we have none; and it is the nature of that gift that the more people have it, the more they believe they lack it.”

“I do not know how that may be,” said the Princess, “but I know very well that I am extremely stupid, and that is the cause of my grief.”

“If that is all which troubles you, madam, I can very easily put an end to your sorrow.”

“And how will you do that?” said the Princess.

“I have the power, madam,” said Riquet with the Tuft, “of giving to that person whom it is my fortune to love best as much wit as it is possible to have; and as you, madam, are that person, it will only depend on yourself if you have not as much wit as any one can have, provided only you are pleased to marry me.”

The Princess was much confused and did not speak a word.

“I see,” continued Riquet with the Tuft, “that this proposal disturbs you, and I do not wonder at it; but I will give you a whole year in which to make up your mind about it.”

The Princess had so little sense, and at the same time so great a desire to have some, that she imagined that the end of this year would never come; so she accepted the proposal which was made to her. She had no sooner promised Riquet with the Tuft that she would marry him in a year from that day than she realized a great change in herself; she found herself saying with incredible ease whatever she wished, and saying it, too, in a clever, fluent, and natural manner.

She began at that moment a brilliant conversation with Riquet with the Tuft, which she sustained with such ease that Riquet began to think that he had given her more wit than he had reserved for himself.

When she returned to the palace the court did not know what to think of so sudden and extraordinary a change; for now she said as many sensible and extremely clever things as before she had said stupid and silly ones. The whole court was delighted beyond measure over it; the younger sister was the only one who did not share the general happiness; for, having no longer any advantage over her sister in the line of wit and sense, she appeared beside her a homely, disagreeable girl.

The King himself was now guided by the advice of the elder sister, and sometimes would even hold a meeting of the council in her apartments. As the report of this change spread everywhere, all the young Princes of neighboring kingdoms made efforts to gain her favor, and almost all of them asked for her hand in marriage; but she did not find any one who had enough wit to satisfy her. So she heard them all without binding herself to any one of them.

However, there came one so powerful, so rich, so witty, and so handsome that she could not help feeling a great liking for him. When her father saw this he told her that he was leaving her to be her own mistress in the matter of choosing a husband, and that she had only to express her wishes. She was so sensible that she knew so serious a matter deserved her careful consideration; so she thanked her father and asked him to give her time to think it over.

She went, by chance, to walk in the same wood where she had met Riquet with the Tuft, to deliberate on what she should do. While she was walking in deep reflection she heard a dull noise under her feet, as of a great many people running busily to and fro. Listening more attentively she heard one say, “Bring me that saucepan”; another, “Give me that kettle”; and a third, “Put some wood on the fire.”

At that moment the ground opened, and she saw under her feet a great kitchen full of cooks, scullions, and all sorts of servants and people necessary to prepare a magnificent feast. There came forward a company of twenty or thirty cooks, with larding needles in their hands and foxtails in their caps, who took their places in one avenue of the wood about a very long table, and went to work busily, keeping time with a tuneful song.

The Princess, in astonishment at the sight, asked them for whom they were working.

“For Prince Riquet with the Tuft, madam, whose wedding takes place to-morrow,” replied their chief.

The Princess, more surprised than ever, remembered all at once that it was that day twelvemonth on which she had promised to marry Prince Riquet. At the thought she was ready to sink into the ground. What made her forget was that when she made the promise she was very silly; and when she took the new sense that the Prince bestowed on her, she forgot all that she had done in the days of her stupidity. She walked on, but had not taken thirty steps before Riquet with the Tuft presented himself before her, magnificently attired like a man who was going to be married.

“You see, madam,” said he, “that I am exact in keeping my word; and I do not doubt that you are come to fulfill yours, and to make me, by giving me your hand, the happiest man in the world.”

“I will confess frankly to you,” replied the Princess, “that I have not yet made up my mind in this matter, and that I do not believe that I shall ever be able to consent to what you desire.”

“You astonish me, madam,” said Riquet with the Tuft.

“That I can well believe,” said the Princess; “and assuredly if I had to do with a clown or a man of no sense, I should find myself very much at a loss. ‘A Princess always keeps her word,’ he would say to me, ‘and you must marry me, since you have promised to do so.’ But as he to whom I speak is the man of all others in the world who has the most sense, I am sure he will hear reason. You know that when I was only a fool I could hardly make up my mind to marry you. Now that I have the sense which you gave me, which makes me much harder to please, how can you expect me to come to a decision to-day which I could not agree to before? If you thought seriously of marrying me, you made a great mistake in removing my stupidity and making me see things more plainly than I did before.”

“If a man without wit or sense,” replied Riquet, “would be justified in reproaching you for breaking your word, why do you wish, madam, that I should not make use of the same right in a matter where the happiness of my whole life is at stake? Is it reasonable that persons of wit and sense should be worse off than those who have none? Can you pretend this,—you who are so wise and who wished so much to be? But come to the point, if you please. Except for my ugliness is there anything in me which displeases you? Do you object to my birth, my sense, my temper, or my manners?”

“Not at all,” said the Princess; “I like in you all that you have mentioned.”

“If that is the case,” replied Riquet with the Tuft, “I shall soon be happy, for you have the power to make me the most handsome of men.”

“How can that be?” asked the Princess.

“It can be done,” replied Riquet with the Tuft, “if you love me enough to desire that it should be; and in order that you may have no doubt about it, know that the same fairy who at my birth bestowed on me the power of making clever the person I love best, has given you the power of making as handsome as you please him whom you love best and for whom you desire this favor.”

“If that be the case,” said the Princess, “I wish with all my heart that you may be the comeliest and handsomest Prince in the world, and I bestow on you this gift in so far as I am able.”

The Princess had no sooner pronounced these words than Riquet with the Tuft seemed to her eyes the comeliest, handsomest, and most pleasing man she had ever seen.

Some people say that it was not the fairy’s charm, but love alone which made this great change. They declare that the Princess, when she had reflected upon the perseverance of her lover, upon his discretion, and all the good qualities of his heart and mind, saw no longer the deformity of his body nor the ugliness of his face; that his hump seemed to her no more than the grand air of a man who put on a look of importance; that where before she had noticed that he limped badly, she now found it nothing more than a careless grace of carriage which charmed her. They tell, too, how his eyes, which were squinting, appeared to her on that account the more brilliant, while their irregularity passed in her judgment as a mark of the warmth of his love; and finally that his great red nose gave, in her opinion, a martial and heroic air to his appearance.

However that may be, the Princess promised immediately to marry him, provided he obtained the consent of the King her father. The King knew that his daughter had a high esteem for Riquet with the Tuft, and was well informed, too, as to the cleverness and prudence of the Prince. So he received him gladly as his son-in-law. The next day their wedding was celebrated as Riquet with the Tuft had foreseen, and according to the orders which he had given long before.

SNOWDROP

Once upon a time, in the middle of winter, when the snowflakes were falling like feathers from the sky, a queen sat sewing at a window framed in black ebony. And as she sat sewing and looking out upon the snow, she pricked her finger with the needle, and three drops of blood fell on the snow outside. Because the red looked so beautiful on the white snow, she thought to herself, “How I should like to have a child as white as snow, as red as blood, and as black as the wood of this ebony frame!”

Very soon after this she had a little daughter whose hair was black as ebony, and whose cheeks were red as blood, while her skin was white as snow; so they called her Snowdrop. But not long after her birth the Queen died.

When Snowdrop was a year old the King took another wife. She was a beautiful woman, but so proud and haughty that she could not bear to have any one surpass her in beauty. She had a magic mirror, and when she stood before it gazing at herself, she would say,

“Mirror, mirror on the wall, Who is fairest of us all?”

Then the mirror would reply,

“Queen, so beautiful and tall, Thou art fairest of them all.”

Then she was content, for she knew the mirror always spoke the truth.

But Snowdrop was growing prettier and prettier every day, and when she was seven years old she was so beautiful that she was even fairer than the Queen herself. One day when the Queen asked her mirror the usual question,

“Mirror, mirror on the wall, Who is fairest of us all?”

it answered,

“Lady Queen, thou art fairest here, But Snowdrop is fairer far, ’tis clear.”

Then the Queen was terrified and turned every shade of green in her jealousy. From that hour she hated Snowdrop so bitterly that she was thrown into a secret passion every time she saw her. And every day envy and pride grew up swiftly like evil weeds in her heart, till she had no rest day or night.

At last she sent for a huntsman and said to him: “Take the child out into the wood, and never let me see her again. You are to kill her and bring me her heart as a token that you have done it.”

The huntsman obeyed, and took Snowdrop into the wood; but when he drew out his hunting knife to kill her, she began to weep and said, “O dear huntsman, spare my life; I will run away into the wild forest and never come home again.”

And because she was so beautiful the huntsman took pity on her and said, “Well, run away then, poor child.” For he thought to himself, “The wild beasts will soon devour her.” But yet it seemed as if a stone had been rolled from his heart because he did not have to kill her.

As a young boar came running by just then, he stabbed it, and took the heart to the Queen as proof that Snowdrop was dead. The wicked woman had it cooked in salt and ate it, thinking she had made an end of Snowdrop.

But when the poor child found herself all alone in the great forest, even the trees and their leaves began to seem terrible to her, and she was so frightened that she did not know what to do. She began to run, and ran over the sharp stones and through the brambles, and the wild beasts ran past her, but they did her no harm. She ran as far as her feet would carry her, till it was nearly evening. Then she saw a little house and went into it to rest herself. Everything in the little house was very small, but cleaner and neater than anything you can think of. A small table covered with a white cloth stood ready with seven small plates, and by each plate were a spoon, knife, fork, and cup. Against the wall stood seven little beds, side by side, covered with snow-white counterpanes.

Snowdrop was so hungry and so thirsty that she ate a bit of bread and a little stew from each plate, and drank a drop of wine out of each cup, for she did not wish to take all from one portion. Then feeling very tired she lay down on one of the little beds, but it was not comfortable. She tried them all in turn, but one was too long, another too short, till she came to the seventh, which was just right; so she lay down upon it, said her prayers, and fell asleep.

When it was quite dark the masters of the little house came home. They were seven little dwarfs, who dug and delved in the mountains for ore. They lighted their seven little lamps, and as soon as the room was full of light they saw that some one had been there, for all was not in the same order in which they had left it.

The first said, “Who has been sitting on my chair?”

The second said, “Who has been eating off my plate?”

The third said, “Who has been eating some of my bread?”

The fourth said, “Who has been tasting my stew?”

The fifth said, “Who has been using my fork?”

The sixth said, “Who has been cutting with my knife?”

The seventh said, “Who has been drinking out of my cup?”

Then the first dwarf looked around and saw a little hollow in his bed, and asked, “Who has been lying on my bed?” The others came running up and exclaimed, “And mine! and mine!” But the seventh, when he came to his bed, saw Snowdrop lying there fast asleep. He called the others, who cried out in astonishment and held up their little lamps to see better when they found Snowdrop sleeping there.

“Heavens!” they cried; “what a beautiful child!” and were so pleased that they did not wake her, but let her sleep on in the little bed. The seventh dwarf slept with his companions, one hour in each bed, and so got through the night.

When Snowdrop awoke in the morning and saw the seven little dwarfs, she was frightened. But they were so friendly and asked her name so kindly that she took courage and answered, “I am called Snowdrop.”

“How came you to our house?” they asked.

Then she told them how her stepmother had wanted to have her killed, how the huntsman had spared her life, and how she had run all day until she had found their little house.

The dwarfs talked a little together and then said: “Will you stay and keep house for us,—cook, make the beds, wash, sew, and knit? If you will, then you shall stay with us and want for nothing.”

“Oh, I should love to,” said Snowdrop. So she stayed with them and kept the house in order. Every morning the dwarfs went out into the mountains to dig for gold, and in the evening when they came back Snowdrop had their supper ready. But during the day she was left all alone and the good dwarfs warned her, saying, “Beware of your stepmother. She will soon find out that you are here. Whatever you do, don’t let any one into the house.”

Now the Queen, believing that she had eaten Snowdrop’s heart, had no doubt that she was again the most beautiful woman in the world; so stepping before her mirror one day she said,

“Mirror, mirror on the wall, Who is fairest of us all?”

Then the mirror replied,

“Lady Queen, thou art fairest here, But Snowdrop up in the mountains near, Who lives with the seven dwarfs, odd and queer, A thousand times fairer doth appear.”

Then she was startled and angry, for she knew that the mirror always spoke the truth, and she saw that the huntsman must have deceived her, and that Snowdrop was still alive. Once more she pondered day and night how she might destroy Snowdrop, for as long as she herself was not the fairest in all the land her jealous heart gave her no peace. At last she thought of a plan. She stained her face and dressed herself like an old peddler woman, and was so changed that no one could have known her. In this disguise she went over the hills to the home of the seven dwarfs. There she knocked at the door, calling out, “Fine wares to sell! fine wares to sell!”

Snowdrop peeped out of the window and said, “Good day, my good woman, what have you to sell?”

“Good wares, fine wares,” she answered; “bodice laces of all colors,” and she pulled out one that was woven of gay-colored silk.

“Surely I may let this honest woman in,” thought Snowdrop; so she unbarred the door and bought the pretty lace.

“Child, child,” said the old woman, “what a figure you have! Come, let me lace you properly for once.”

Snowdrop had no suspicion, but stood before the woman and let her lace her with the new lace. But the old woman laced her so quickly and so tightly that it took Snowdrop’s breath away, and she fell down as though dead.

“Now you are no longer the fairest,” said the Queen, and she hurried away.

Not long after, toward evening, the seven dwarfs came home and were terribly frightened to see their dear little Snowdrop lying on the floor, still and motionless as if she were dead. They lifted her up, and when they saw how tightly she was laced, they cut the laces in two; then she began to breathe a little and gradually came back to life. When the dwarfs heard what had happened they said: “The old peddler woman was none other than the wicked Queen. Snowdrop, you must take care and let no one in when we are not at home.”

The wicked Queen went straight to her mirror the minute she got home and said,

“Mirror, mirror on the wall, Who is fairest of us all?”

Then the mirror answered as before,