Chapter 1
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GRIMM TALES MADE GAY By GUY WETMORE CARRYL
With GAY PICTURES By ALBERT LEVERING
GRIMM TALES MADE GAY By GUY WETMORE CARRYL
AUTHOR OF THIS AND MANY OTHER THINGS!
PICTURES BY ALBERT LEVERING
ARTIST OF THAT THE OTHER AND THIS
BOSTON & NEW YORK HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & Co.
COPYRIGHT, 1902, BY GUY WETMORE CARRYL AND ALBERT LEVERING ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
_Published in October, 1902_
TO CHARLES WALTON OGDEN
NOTE
_I have pleasure in acknowledging the courteous permission of the editors to reprint in this form such of these verses as were originally published in Harper's Magazine, The Century, Life, The Smart Set, The Saturday Evening Post, The Home Magazine, and the London Tatler. G. W. C._
The Contents
HOW THE BABES IN THE WOOD SHOWED THEY COULDN'T BE BEATEN
HOW FAIR CINDERELLA DISPOSED OF HER SHOE
HOW LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD CAME TO BE EATEN
HOW THE FATUOUS WISH OF A PEASANT CAME TRUE
HOW HOP O' MY THUMB GOT RID OF AN ONUS
HOW THE HELPMATE OF BLUE-BEARD MADE FREE WITH A DOOR
HOW RUMPLESTILZ HELD OUT IN VAIN FOR A BONUS
HOW JACK MADE THE GIANTS UNCOMMONLY SORE
HOW RUDENESS AND KINDNESS WERE JUSTLY REWARDED
HOW BEAUTY CONTRIVED TO GET SQUARE WITH THE BEAST
HOW A FAIR ONE NO HOPE TO HIS HIGHNESS ACCORDED
HOW THOMAS A MAID FROM A DRAGON RELEASED
HOW A BEAUTY WAS WAKED AND HER SUITOR WAS SUITED
HOW JACK FOUND THAT BEANS MAY GO BACK ON A CHAP
HOW A CAT WAS ANNOYED AND A POET WAS BOOTED
HOW MUCH FORTUNATUS COULD DO WITH A CAP
HOW A PRINCESS WAS WOOED FROM HABITUAL SADNESS
HOW A GIRL WAS TOO RECKLESS OF GRAMMAR BY FAR
HOW THE PEACEFUL ALADDIN GAVE WAY TO HIS MADNESS
HOW A FISHERMAN CORKED UP HIS FOE IN A JAR
ENVOI
_How the Babes in the Wood Showed They Couldn't be Beaten_
A man of kind and noble mind Was H. Gustavus Hyde. 'Twould be amiss to add to this At present, for he died, In full possession of his senses, The day before my tale commences.
One half his gold his four-year-old Son Paul was known to win, And Beatrix, whose age was six, For all the rest came in, Perceiving which, their Uncle Ben did A thing that people said was splendid.
For by the hand he took them, and Remarked in accents smooth: "One thing I ask. Be mine the task These stricken babes to soothe! My country home is really charming: I'll teach them all the joys of farming."
One halcyon week they fished his creek, And watched him do the chores, In haylofts hid, and, shouting, slid Down sloping cellar doors:-- Because this life to bliss was equal The more distressing is the sequel.
Concealing guile beneath a smile, He took them to a wood, And, with severe and most austere Injunctions to be good, He left them seated on a gateway, And took his own departure straightway.
Though much afraid, the children stayed From ten till nearly eight; At times they wept, at times they slept, But never left the gate: Until the swift suspicion crossed them That Uncle Benjamin had lost them.
Then, quite unnerved, young Paul observed: "It's like a dreadful dream, And Uncle Ben has fallen ten Per cent. in my esteem. Not only did he first usurp us, But now he's left us here on purpose!"
* * * * *
For countless years their childish fears Have made the reader pale, For countless years the public's tears Have started at the tale, For countless years much detestation Has been expressed for their relation.
So draw a veil across the dale Where stood that ghastly gate. No need to tell. You know full well What was their touching fate, And how with leaves each little dead breast Was covered by a Robin Redbreast!
But when they found them on the ground, Although their life had ceased, Quite near to Paul there lay a small White paper, neatly creased. "_Because of lack of any merit, B. Hyde_," it ran, "_we disinherit_!"
_The Moral_: If you deeply long To punish one who's done you wrong, Though in your lifetime fail you may, Where there's a will, there is a way!
_How Fair Cinderella Disposed of Her Shoe_
The vainest girls in forty states Were Gwendolyn and Gladys Gates; They warbled, slightly off the air, Romantic German songs, And each of them upon her hair Employed the curling tongs, And each with ardor most intense Her buxom figure laced, Until her wilful want of sense Procured a woeful waist: For bound to marry titled mates Were Gwendolyn and Gladys Gates.
Yet, truth to tell, the swains were few Of Gwendolyn (and Gladys, too). So morning, afternoon, and night Upon their sister they Were wont to vent their selfish spite, And in the rudest way: For though her name was Leonore, That's neither there nor here, They called her Cinderella, for The kitchen was her sphere, Save when the hair she had to do Of Gwendolyn (and Gladys, too).
Each night to dances and to _fêtes_ Went Gwendolyn and Gladys Gates, And Cinderella watched them go In silks and satins clad: A prince invited them, and so They put on all they had! But one fine night, as all alone She watched the flames leap higher, A small and stooping fairy crone Stept nimbly from the fire. Said she: "The pride upon me grates Of Gwendolyn and Gladys Gates."
"I'll now," she added, with a frown, "Call Gwendolyn and Gladys down!" And, ere your fingers you could snap, There stood before the door No paltry hired horse and trap, Oh, no!--a coach and four! And Cinderella, fitted out Regardless of expense, Made both her sisters look about Like thirty-seven cents! The prince, with one look at her gown, Turned Gwendolyn and Gladys down!
Wall-flowers, when thus compared with her, Both Gwendolyn and Gladys were. The prince but gave them glances hard, No gracious word he said; He scratched their names from off his card, And wrote hers down instead: And where he would bestow his hand He showed them in a trice By handing her the kisses, and To each of them an ice! In sudden need of fire and fur Both Gwendolyn and Gladys were.
At ten o'clock, in discontent, Both Gwendolyn and Gladys went. Their sister stayed till after two, And, with a joy sincere, The prince obtained her crystal shoe By way of souvenir. "Upon the bridal path," he cried, "We'll reign together! Since I love you, you must be my bride!" (He was no slouch, that prince!) And into sudden languishment Both Gwendolyn and Gladys went.
_The Moral_: All the girls on earth Exaggerate their proper worth. They think the very shoes they wear Are worth the average millionaire; Whereas few pairs in any town Can be half-sold for half a crown!
_How Little Red Riding Hood Came to be Eaten_
Most worthy of praise Were the virtuous ways Of Little Red Riding Hood's Ma, And no one was ever More cautious and clever Than Little Red Riding Hood's Pa. They never misled, For they meant what they said, And would frequently say what they meant, And the way she should go They were careful to show, And the way that they showed her, she went. For obedience she was effusively thanked, And for anything else she was carefully spanked.
It thus isn't strange That Red Riding Hood's range Of virtues so steadily grew, That soon she won prizes Of different sizes, And golden encomiums, too! As a general rule She was head of her school, And at six was so notably smart That they gave her a cheque For reciting "The Wreck Of the Hesperus," wholly by heart! And you all will applaud her the more, I am sure, When I add that this money she gave to the poor.
At eleven this lass Had a Sunday-school class, At twelve wrote a volume of verse, At thirteen was yearning For glory, and learning To be a professional nurse. To a glorious height The young paragon might Have grown, if not nipped in the bud, But the following year Struck her smiling career With a dull and a sickening thud! (I have shed a great tear at the thought of her pain, And must copy my manuscript over again!)
Not dreaming of harm, One day on her arm A basket she hung. It was filled With jellies, and ices, And gruel, and spices, And chicken-legs, carefully grilled, And a savory stew, And a novel or two She'd persuaded a neighbor to loan, And a hot-water can, And a Japanese fan, And a bottle of _eau-de-cologne_, And the rest of the things that your family fill Your room with, whenever you chance to be ill!
She expected to find Her decrepit but kind Old Grandmother waiting her call, But the visage that met her Completely upset her: It wasn't familiar at all! With a whitening cheek She started to speak, But her peril she instantly saw:-- Her Grandma had fled, And she'd tackled instead Four merciless Paws and a Maw! When the neighbors came running, the wolf to subdue, He was licking his chops, (and Red Riding Hood's, too!)
At this terrible tale Some readers will pale, And others with horror grow dumb, And yet it was better, I fear, he should get her: Just think what she might have become! For an infant so keen Might in future have been A woman of awful renown, Who carried on fights For her feminine rights As the Mare of an Arkansas town. She might have continued the crime of her 'teens, And come to write verse for the Big Magazines!
_The Moral_: There's nothing much glummer Than children whose talents appall: One much prefers those who are dumber, But as for the paragons small, If a swallow cannot make a summer It can bring on a summary fall!
_How the Fatuous Wish of a Peasant Came True_
An excellent peasant, Of character pleasant, Once lived in a hut with his wife. He was cheerful and docile, But such an old fossil You wouldn't meet twice in your life. His notions were all without reason or rhyme, Such dullness in any one else were a crime, But the folly pig-headed To which he was wedded Was so deep imbedded, it touched the sublime!
He frequently stated Such quite antiquated And singular doctrines as these: _"Do good unto others! All men are your brothers!"_ (Of course he forgot the Chinese!) He said that all men were made equal and free, (That's true if they're born on _our_ side of the sea!) That truth should be spoken, And pledges unbroken: (Now where, by that token, would most of us be?)
One day, as his pottage He ate in his cottage, A fairy stepped up to the door; Upon it she hammered, And meekly she stammered: "A morsel of food I implore." He gave her sardines, and a biscuit or two, And she said in reply, when her luncheon was through, "In return for these dishes Of bread and of fishes The first of your wishes I'll make to come true!"
That nincompoop peasant Accepted the present, (As most of us probably would,) And, thinking her bounty To turn to account, he Said: "_Now_ I'll do somebody good! I won't ask a thing for myself or my wife, But I'll make all my neighbors with happiness rife. Whate'er their conditions, Henceforward, physicians And indispositions they're rid of for life!"
These words energetic The fairy's prophetic Announcement brought instantly true: With singular quickness Each victim of sickness Was made over, better than new, And people who formerly thought they were doomed With almost obstreperous healthiness bloomed, And each had some platitude, Teeming with gratitude, For the new attitude life had assumed.
Our friend's satisfaction Concerning his action Was keen, but exceedingly brief. The wrathful condition Of every physician In town was surpassing belief! Professional nurses were plunged in despair, And chemists shook passionate fists in the air: They called at his dwelling, With violence swelling, His greeting repelling with arrogant stare.
They beat and they battered, They slammed and they shattered, And did him such serious harm, That, after their labors, His wife told the neighbors They'd caused her excessive alarm! They then set to work on his various ills, And plied him with liniments, powders, and pills, And charged him so dearly That all of them nearly Made double the yearly amount of their bills.
_This Moral_ by the tale is taught:-- The wish is father to the thought. (We'd oftentimes escape the worst If but the thinking part came first!)
How Hop O' My Thumb Got Rid of an Onus
A worthy couple, man and wife, Dragged on a discontented life: The reason, I should state, That it was destitute of joys, Was that they had a dozen boys To feed and educate, And nothing such patience demands As having twelve boys on your hands!
For twenty years they tried their best To keep those urchins neatly dressed And teach them to be good, But so much labor it involved That, in the end, they both resolved To lose them in a wood, Though nothing a parent annoys Like heartlessly losing his boys!
So when their sons had gone to bed, Though bitter tears the couple shed, They laid their little plan. "_Faut b'en que ça s'fasse. Quand même_," The woman said, "_J'en suis tout' blème._" "_Ça colle!_" observed the man, "_Mais ça coute, que ces gosses fichus! B'en, quoi! Faut qu'i's soient perdus!_"
(I've quite omitted to explain That they were natives of Touraine; I see I must translate.) "Of course it must be done, and still," The wife remarked, "it makes me ill." "You bet!" replied her mate: "But we've both of us counted the cost, And the kids simply _have_ to be lost!"
But, while they plotted, every word The youngest of the urchins heard, And winked the other eye; His height was only two feet three. (I might remark, in passing, he Was little, but O My!) He added: "I'd better keep mum." (He was foxy, was Hop O' My Thumb!)
They took the boys into the wood, And lost them, as they said they should, And came in silence back. Alas for them! Hop O' My Thumb At every step had dropped a crumb, And so retraced the track. While the parents sat mourning their fate He led the boys in at the gate!
He placed his hand upon his heart, And said: "You think you're awful smart, But I have foiled you thus!" His parents humbly bent the knee, And meekly said: "H. O. M. T., You're one too much for us!" And both of them solemnly swore "We won't never do so no more!"
_The Moral_ is: While I do not Endeavor to condone the plot, I still maintain that one Should have no chance of being foiled, And having one's arrangements spoiled By one's ingenious son. If you turn down your children, with pain, Take care they don't turn up again!
How the Helpmate of Blue-Beard Made Free with a Door
A maiden from the Bosphorus, With eyes as bright as phosphorus, Once wed the wealthy bailiff Of the caliph Of Kelat. Though diligent and zealous, he Became a slave to jealousy. (Considering her beauty, 'Twas his duty To be that!)
When business would necessitate A journey, he would hesitate, But, fearing to disgust her, He would trust her With his keys, Remarking to her prayerfully: "I beg you'll use them carefully. Don't look what I deposit In that closet, If you please."
It may be mentioned, casually, That blue as lapis lazuli He dyed his hair, his lashes, His mustaches, And his beard. And, just because he did it, he Aroused his wife's timidity: Her terror she dissembled, But she trembled When he neared.
This feeling insalubrious Soon made her most lugubrious, And bitterly she missed her Elder sister Marie Anne: She asked if she might write her to Come down and spend a night or two, Her husband answered rightly And politely: "Yes, you can!"
Blue-Beard, the Monday following, His jealous feeling swallowing, Packed all his clothes together In a leather- Bound valise, And, feigning reprehensibly, He started out, ostensibly By traveling to learn a Bit of Smyrna And of Greece.
His wife made but a cursory Inspection of the nursery; The kitchen and the airy Little dairy Were a bore, As well as big or scanty rooms, And billiard, bath, and ante-rooms, But not that interdicted And restricted Little door!
For, all her curiosity Awakened by the closet he So carefully had hidden, And forbidden Her to see, This damsel disobedient Did something inexpedient, And in the keyhole tiny Turned the shiny Little key:
Then started back impulsively, And shrieked aloud convulsively-- Three heads of girls he'd wedded And beheaded Met her eye! And turning round, much terrified, Her darkest fears were verified, For Blue-Beard stood behind her, Come to find her On the sly!
Perceiving she was fated to Be soon decapitated, too, She telegraphed her brothers And some others What she feared. And Sister Anne looked out for them, In readiness to shout for them Whenever in the distance With assistance They appeared.
But only from her battlement She saw some dust that cattle meant. The ordinary story Isn't gory, But a jest. But here's the truth unqualified. The husband _wasn't_ mollified Her head is in his bloody Little study With the rest!
_The Moral_: Wives, we must allow, Who to their husbands will not bow, A stern and dreadful lesson learn When, as you've read, they're cut in turn.
How Rumplestilz Held Out in Vain for a Bonus
In Germany there lived an earl Who had a charming niece: And never gave the timid girl A single moment's peace! Whatever low and menial task His fancy flitted through, He did not hesitate to ask That shrinking child to do. (I see with truly honest shame you Are blushing, and I do not blame you. A tale like this the feelings softens, And brings the tears, as does "Two Orphans.")
She had to wash the windows, and She had to scrub the floors, She had to lend a willing hand To fifty other chores: She gave the dog his exercise, She read the earl the news, She ironed all his evening ties, And polished all his shoes, She cleaned the tins that filled the dairy, She cut the claws of the canary, And then, at night, with manner winsome, When coal was wanted, carried in some!
But though these tasks were quite enough, He thought them all too few, And so her uncle, rude and rough, Invented something new. He took her to a little room, Her willingness to tax, And pointed out a broken loom And half a ton of flax, Observing: "Spin six pairs of trousers!" His haughty manner seemed to rouse hers. She met his scornful glances proudly--
But when the earl went down the stair She yielded to her fears. Gave way at last to grim despair, And melted into tears: When suddenly, from out the wall, As if he felt at home, There pounced a singularly small And much distorted gnome. He smiled a smile extremely vapid, And set to work in fashion rapid; No time for resting he deducted, And soon the trousers were constructed.
The girl observed: "How very nice To help me out this way!" The gnome replied: "A certain price Of course you'll have to pay. I'll call to-morrow afternoon, My due reward to claim, And then you'll sing another tune Unless you guess my name!" He indicated with a gesture The pile of newly fashioned vesture: His eyes on hers a moment centered, And then he went, as he had entered.
As by this tale you have been grieved And heartily distressed, Kind sir, you will be much relieved To know his name she guessed:
But if I do not tell the same, Pray count it not a crime:-- I've tried my best, and for that name I can't find any rhyme! Yet spare me from remarks injurious: I will not leave you foiled and furious. If something must proclaim the answer, And I cannot, the title can, sir!
_The Moral_ is: All said and done, There's nothing new beneath the sun, And many times before, a title Was incapacity's requital!
How Jack Made the Giants Uncommonly Sore
Of all the ill-fated Boys ever created Young Jack was the wretchedest lad: An emphatic, erratic, Dogmatic fanatic Was foisted upon him as dad! From the time he could walk, And before he could talk, His wearisome training began, On a highly barbarian, Disciplinarian, Nearly Tartarean Plan!
He taught him some Raleigh, And some of Macaulay, Till all of "Horatius" he knew, And the drastic, sarcastic, Fantastic, scholastic Philippics of "Junius," too. He made him learn lots Of the poems of Watts, And frequently said he ignored, On principle, any son's Title to benisons Till he'd learned Tennyson's "Maud."
"For these are the giants Of thought and of science," He said in his positive way: "So weigh them, obey them, Display them, and lay them To heart in your infancy's day!" Jack made no reply, But he said on the sly An eloquent word, that had come From a quite indefensible, Most reprehensible, But indispensable Chum.