Chapter 1
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_Laboulaye's_ FAIRY BOOK
_Illustrated by_
Edward G. McCandlish
_Translated by_
Mary L. Booth
_Introduction by_
Kate Douglas Wiggin
HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK _and_ LONDON
LABOULAYE'S FAIRY BOOK
Copyright, 1866, 1920, by Harper & Brothers
* * * * *
CONTENTS
PAGE
INTRODUCTION ix
YVON AND FINETTE 3
THE CASTLE OF LIFE 46
DESTINY 79
THE TWELVE MONTHS 86
SWANDA, THE PIPER 96
THE GOLD BREAD 102
THE STORY OF THE NOSES 109
THE THREE CITRONS 115
THE STORY OF COQUERICO 137
KING BIZARRE AND PRINCE CHARMING 145
* * * * *
ILLUSTRATIONS
HE FLUNG HUGE MASSES OF ROCK AFTER THE VESSEL _Frontispiece_
HE WAS SOON SNORING SO LOUDLY THAT IT SEEMED LIKE THUNDER SHAKING THE MOUNTAINS _Facing p._ 16
SHE FOUND HERSELF IN FRONT OF A WRETCHED HUT AT THE DOOR OF WHICH STOOD AN OLD WOMAN, OF WHOM SHE BEGGED SHELTER FOR THE NIGHT " 26
AT NIGHT THE GRANDMOTHER ALWAYS GAVE HIM GOOD COUNSELS FOR HIM TO FOLLOW WHEN SHE WAS GONE " 48
PRETTY DOBRUNKA WAS OBLIGED TO DO ALL THE WORK OF THE HOUSE " 88
TURNED OUT BY HER MOTHER, DOBRUNKA WENT UNHAPPILY INTO THE FOREST " 92
HE BEGAN TO PLAY, AND NEVER HAD HIS MUSIC PRODUCED SUCH AN EFFECT " 100
AS THE MOTHER GAZED LOVINGLY AT HER BEAUTIFUL DAUGHTER, MARIENKA LAUGHED IN HER SLEEP " 106
HE RAN TO THE TREE AND SHOOK IT WITH ALL HIS MIGHT, WHEN, BEHOLD! A YOUNG GIRL FELL FROM THE BRANCHES " 112
HE INSTANTLY GAVE HER THE WATER, WHEN, LO! A BEAUTIFUL, SLENDER YOUNG GIRL STOOD BEFORE HIM " 126
PAZZA, THOUGH SHE LOVED THE PRINCE, WAS A VERY STERN " 154 SCHOOLMISTRESS
THE MOST RENOWNED PHYSICIANS OF THE FACULTY MET ONE EVENING IN CONSULTATION AT THE PALACE " 178
* * * * *
INTRODUCTION
By KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN
There was once a green book, deliciously thick, with gilt-edged pages and the name of the author in gilt script on the front cover.
Like an antique posy ring, it was a "box of jewels, shop of rarities"; it was a veritable Pandora's box, and if you laid warm, childish hands upon it and held it pressed close to your ear, you could hear, as Pandora did, soft rustlings, murmurings, flutterings, and whisperings from the fairy folk within. For this was a fairy book--Edouard Laboulaye's "Tales," and its heroes and heroines became first the daily companions, and then the lifetime possession, of the two little girls to whom it belonged.
From the New England village where it was originally given to them, it traveled to the far West and its tales were told to countless immigrant children of San Francisco, whose great eyes opened wider still as they listened, breathless, to stories beloved by their ancestors. In later years the green volume journeyed by clumsy, rattling stage and rawboned nags to Mexico, and the extraordinary adventures of "Yvon and Finette," "Carlino," and "Graceful" were repeated in freshly learned Spanish, to many a group of brown-cheeked little people on the hillsides of Sonora.
And now, long, long afterward, there stands on a shelf above my desk the very selfsame worn green volume, read and re-read a hundred times, but so tenderly and respectfully that it has kept all its pages and both its covers; and on this desk itself are the proofs of a new edition with clear, beautiful print and gay pictures by Edward McCandlish!
To be asked to write an introduction to this particular book seems insufferable patronage; yet one would do it for love of Laboulaye, or for the sake of one's own "little past," or to draw one more young reader into the charmed circle that will welcome these pages.
The two children who adored Laboulaye's "Tales" possessed many another fairy book, so why did this especial volume hold a niche apart in the gallery of their hearts?
Partly, perhaps, because of the Gallic wit and vivacity with which the tales are told, for children are never too young to appreciate the charms of style.
You remember, possibly, the French chef who, being imprisoned with no materials save the tools of his trade, and commanded on pain of death to produce an omelette, proudly emerged at last, bearing a savory dish made out of the sole of his shoe?
Of even such stuff Laboulaye could have concocted a delectable tale; but with Brittany, Bohemia, Italy, Dalmatia, Hungary, and Spain for his storehouses, one has only to taste to know how finely flavored are the dishes he sets forth.
In his preface to the first American edition Laboulaye writes a letter to Mlle. Gabrielle Laboulaye, aged two! In it he says: "When you throw away this book with your doll, do not be too severe with your old grandfather for wasting his time on such trifles as fairy stories. Experience will teach you that the truest and sweetest things in life are not those which we see, but of which we dream." Happy the children who have this philosophy set before them early in life.
Like the fairy tales Robert Louis Stevenson remembered, these of Laboulaye's have "the golden smell of broom and the shade of pine," and they will come back to the child whenever the Wind of Memory blows.
In common with the stories of Charles Perrault, literary parent of the fairy tale, Laboulaye's charming narratives have a certain unique quality due to the fact that they were intended and collected for the author's own children, were told to them round the fireside in the evening, and so received at first hand the comment and suggestion of a bevy of competent, if somewhat youthful, critics.
It is said that there is a great scarcity of fairy folk in modern France; and that, terrified by the thunders of the Revolution, they left their unhappy country in a body during its stormy years, first assembling in grateful concourse around the tomb of Perrault, upon whose memory they conferred the boon of immortality.
If this story is true--and the last reported act of the fairies on leaving France makes it appear so--then we may be sure that a few of the more hardy and adventurous fays skipped back again across the border and hid themselves in Laboulaye's box of jewels, where they give to each gem an even brighter sheen and a more magical luster.
"QUILLCOTE," HOLLIS, MAINE.
_August, 1920._
LABOULAYE'S FAIRY BOOK
On the Kerver
YVON _and_ FINETTE
_A Tale of Brittany_
I
Once upon a time there lived in Brittany a noble lord, who was called the Baron Kerver. His manor-house was the most beautiful in the province. It was a great Gothic castle, with a groined roof and walls, covered with carving, that looked at a distance like a vine climbing over an arbor. On the first floor six stained-glass balcony windows looked out on each side toward the rising and the setting sun. In the morning, when the baron, mounted on his dun mare, went forth into the forest, followed by his tall greyhounds, he saw at each window one of his daughters, with prayer-book in hand, praying for the house of Kerver, and who, with their fair curls, blue eyes, and clasped hands, might have been taken for six Madonnas in an azure niche. At evening, when the sun declined and the baron returned homeward, after riding round his domains, he perceived from afar, in the windows looking toward the west, six sons, with dark locks and eagle gaze, the hope and pride of the family, that might have been taken for six sculptured knights at the portal of a church. For ten leagues round, all who wished to quote a happy father and a powerful lord named the Baron Kerver.
The castle had but twelve windows, and the baron had thirteen children. The last, the one that had no place, was a handsome boy of sixteen, by the name of Yvon. As usual, he was the best beloved. In the morning, at his departure, and at evening, on his return, the baron always found Yvon waiting on the threshold to embrace him. With his hair falling to his waist, his graceful figure, his wilful air, and his bold bearing, Yvon was beloved by all the Bretons. At twelve years of age he had bravely attacked and killed a wolf with an ax, which had won him the name of _Fearless_. He deserved the title, for never was there a bolder heart.
One day, when the baron had stayed at home, and was amusing himself by breaking a lance with his squire, Yvon entered the armory in a traveling dress, and, bending one knee to the ground, "My lord and father," said he to the baron, "I come to ask your blessing. The house of Kerver is rich in knights, and has no need of a child; it is time for me to go to seek my fortune. I wish to go to distant countries to try my strength and to make myself a name."
"You are right, Fearless," replied the baron, more moved than he wished to appear. "I will not keep you back; I have no right to do so; but you are very young, my child; perhaps it would be better for you to stay another year with us."
"I am sixteen, my father; at that age you had already fought one of the proudest lords of the country. I have not forgotten that our arms are a unicorn ripping up a lion, and our motto. Onward! I do not wish the Kervers to blush for their last child."
Yvon received his father's blessing, shook hands with his brothers, embraced his sisters, bid adieu to all the weeping vassals, and set out with a light heart.
Nothing stopped him on his way. A river appeared, he swam it; a mountain, he climbed it; a forest, he made his way through it with the sun for a guide. "_On--the Kerver!_" he cried, whenever he met with an obstacle, and went straight forward in spite of everything.
For three years he had been roaming over the world in search of adventures, sometimes conquering, sometimes conquered, always bold and gay, when he received an offer to go to fight the heathen of Norway. To kill unbelievers and to conquer a kingdom was a double pleasure. Yvon enlisted twelve brave comrades, freighted a ship, and hoisted from the mainmast a blue standard with the unicorn and motto of the Kervers.
The sea was calm, the wind fair, and the night serene. Yvon, stretched on the deck, watched the stars, and sought the one which cast its trembling light on his father's castle. All at once the vessel struck upon a rock; a terrible crash was heard; the sails fell like tinder; and an enormous wave burst over the deck and swept away everything upon it.
"_On--the Kerver!_" cried Yvon, as soon as his head appeared above the water, and he began to swim as tranquilly as if he had been bathing in the lake of the old castle. Happily the moon was rising. Yvon saw, at a little distance, a black speck among the silvery waves--it was land. He approached it, not without difficulty, and finally succeeded in gaining a foothold. Dripping wet, exhausted with fatigue, and out of breath, he dragged himself on the sand, then, without more anxiety, said his prayers and went to sleep.
II
In the morning, on awaking, Yvon tried to discover in what country he had been cast. He saw in the distance a house as large as a church, with windows fifty feet in height. He walked a whole day before reaching it, and at last found himself in front of an immense door, with a knocker so heavy that it was impossible for a man to lift it.
Yvon took a great stone and began to knock. "Come in," cried a voice that sounded like the roar of a bull. At the same instant the door opened, and the little Breton found himself in the presence of a giant not less than forty feet in height.
"What is your name, and what do you want here?" said the giant, taking up Yvon between his thumb and finger and lifting him from the ground so as to see him better.
"My name is Fearless, and I am seeking my fortune," answered Yvon, looking at the monster with an air of defiance.
"Well, brave Fearless, your fortune is made," said the giant, in a mocking tone. "I am in need of a servant and I will give you the place. You can go to work directly. This is the time for leading my sheep to the pasture; you may clean the stable while I am gone. I shall give you nothing else to do," added he, bursting into a laugh. "You see that I am a good master. Do your task, and, above all things, don't prowl about the house, or it will cost you your life."
"Certainly I have a good master; the work is not hard," thought Yvon, when the giant was gone. "I have plenty of time to sweep the stable. What shall I do meanwhile to amuse myself? Shall I look about the house? Since I am forbidden to do so, it must be because there is something to see."
He entered the first room, and saw a large fireplace in which a great pot was hanging, suspended from a hook. The pot was boiling, but there was no fire on the hearth.
"What does this mean?" thought Yvon; "there is some mystery here." He cut off a lock of his hair, dipped it into the pot, and took it out all coated with copper.
"Oh, oh!" cried he, "this is a new kind of soup; anybody that swallows it must have an iron-clad stomach."
He went into the next room; there also a pot was suspended from a hook, and boiling without fire. Yvon dipped a lock of hair into it, and took it out all coated with silver.
"The broth is not so rich as this in the Kerver kitchen," thought he, "but it may have a better taste."
Upon this, he entered the third room. There also a pot was suspended from a hook, and boiling without fire. Yvon dipped a lock of hair into it, and took it out all coated with gold. It shone so brightly that it might have been mistaken for a sunbeam.
"Good!" cried he. "In our country the old women have a saying, 'Everything gets worse and worse'; here it is just the contrary--everything gets better and better. What shall I find in the fourth room, I wonder--diamond soup?"
He pushed open the door and saw something rarer than precious stones. This was a young woman of such marvelous beauty that Yvon, dazzled, fell on his knees at the sight.
"Unfortunate youth!" cried she, in a trembling voice, "what are you doing here?"
"I belong to the house," answered Yvon; "the giant took me into his service this morning."
"His service!" repeated the young girl. "May Heaven preserve you from it!"
"Why so?" said Yvon. "I have a good master; the work is not hard. The stable once swept, my task is finished."
"Yes, and how will you set to work to sweep it?" said the lady. "If you sweep it in the usual way, for every forkful of dung that you throw out of the door, ten will come in at the window. But I will tell you what to do. Turn the fork and sweep with the handle, and the dung will instantly fly out of itself."
"I will obey," said Yvon; upon which he sat down by the young girl and began to talk with her. She was the daughter of a fairy, whom the wretched giant had made his slave. Friendship soon springs up between companions in misfortune. Before the end of the day Finette (for that was the lady's name) and Yvon had already promised to belong to each other if they could escape from their abominable master. The difficulty was to find the means.
Time passes quickly in this kind of talk. Evening was approaching when Finette sent away her new friend, advising him to sweep the stable before the giant came home.
Yvon took down the fork and attempted to use it as he had seen it done at his father's castle. He soon had enough of it. In less than a second there was so much dung in the stable that the poor boy knew not which way to turn. He did as Finette had bid him; he turned the fork and swept with the handle, when, behold! in the twinkling of an eye the stable was as clean as if no cattle had ever entered it.
The task finished, Yvon seated himself on a bench before the door of the house. As soon as he saw the giant coming he lolled back in his seat, crossed his legs, and began to sing one of his native airs.
"Have you cleaned the stable?" asked the giant, with a frown.
"Everything is ready, master," answered Yvon, without troubling himself to move.
"I am going to see for myself," howled the giant. He entered the stable grumbling, found everything in order, and came out furious.
"You have seen my Finette," cried he; "this trick did not come from your own head."
"What is myfinette?" asked Yvon, opening his mouth and shutting his eyes. "Is it one of the animals that you have in this country? Show it to me, master."
"Hold your tongue, fool," replied the giant; "you will see her sooner than you will want to."
The next morning the giant gathered his sheep together to lead them to the pasture, but before setting out he ordered Yvon to go in the course of the day in search of his horse, which was turned out to graze on the mountain. "After that," said he, bursting into a laugh, "you can rest all day long. You see that I am a good master. Do your task; and, above all things, don't prowl about the house or I will cut off your head."
Yvon winked his eye as the giant left. "Yes, you are a good master," said he, between his teeth. "I understand your tricks; but, in spite of your threats, I shall go into the house and talk with your Finette. It remains to be seen whether she will not be more mine than yours."
He ran to the young girl's room. "Hurrah!" cried he; "I have nothing to do all day but to go to the mountain after a horse."
"Very well," said Finette. "How will you set to work to ride him?"
"A fine question," returned Yvon. "As if it was a difficult thing to ride a horse! I fancy that I have ridden worse ones than this."
"It is not so easy as you think," replied Finette; "but I will tell you what to do. Take the bit that hangs behind the stable door, and, when the animal rushes toward you breathing fire and smoke from his nostrils, force it straight between his teeth; he will instantly become as gentle as a lamb, and you can do what you please with him."
"I will obey," said Yvon; upon which he sat down by the side of Finette and began to talk with her. They talked of everything; but, however far their fancy strayed, they always came back to the point that they were promised to each other and that they must escape from the giant. Time passes quickly in this kind of talk. The evening drew nigh. Yvon had forgotten the horse and the mountain, and Finette was obliged to send him away, advising him to bring back the animal before his master's arrival.
Yvon took down the bit that was hidden behind the stable door and hastened to the mountain, when, lo! a horse almost as large as an elephant rushed toward him at full gallop, breathing fire and smoke from his nostrils. Yvon firmly awaited the huge animal, and, the moment he opened his enormous jaws, thrust between them the bit; when, lo! the horse instantly became as gentle as a lamb. Yvon made him kneel down, sprang on his back, and tranquilly returned home.
His task finished, Yvon seated himself on the bench before the door of the house. As soon as he saw the giant coming, he lolled back in his seat, crossed his legs, and began to sing one of his native airs.
"Have you brought back the horse?" asked the giant, with a frown.
"Yes, master," answered Yvon, without taking the trouble to move. "He is a fine animal and does you credit. He is gentle, well trained, and as quiet as a lamb. He is feeding yonder in the stable."
"I am going to see for myself," howled the giant. He entered the stable, grumbling, found everything in order, and came out furious.
"You have seen my Finette," he said; "this trick did not come from your own head."
"Oh, master," returned Yvon, opening his mouth and shutting his eyes, "it is the same story over again. What is this myfinette? Once for all, show me this monster."
"Hold your tongue, fool," returned the giant; "you will see her sooner than you will want to."
The third day at dawn the giant gathered his sheep together to lead them to the pasture; but, before setting out, he said to Yvon:
"To-day you must go to the bottomless pit to collect my rent. After that," continued he, bursting into a laugh, "you may rest all day long. You see that I am a good master."
"A good master, so be it," murmured Yvon, "but the task is none the less hard. I will go and see my Finette, as the giant says; I have great need of her help to get through to-day's business."
When Finette had learned what was the task of the day, "Well," said she, "how will you go to work to do it?"
"I don't know," said Yvon, sadly; "I have never been to the bottomless pit, and, even if I knew the way there, I should not know what to ask for. Tell me what to do."
"Do you see that great rock yonder?" said Finette; "that is one of the gates of the bottomless pit. Take this stick, knock three times on the stone, and a demon will come out all streaming with flames, who will ask you how much you want. Take care to answer, 'No more than I can carry.'"
"I will obey," said Yvon; upon which he took a seat by the side of Finette and began to talk with her. He would have been there till this time if the young girl had not sent him to the great rock, when the evening drew nigh, to execute the giant's commands.
On reaching the spot pointed out to him, Yvon found a great block of granite. He struck it three times with the stick, when, lo! the rock opened and a demon came forth all streaming with flames.
"What do you want?" he cried.
"I have come for the giant's rent," answered Yvon, calmly.
"How much do you want?"
"I never want any more than I can carry," replied the Breton.
"It is well for you that you do not," returned the man in flames. "Enter this cavern and you will find what you want."
Yvon entered, and opened his eyes wide. Everywhere he saw nothing but gold, silver, diamonds, carbuncles, and emeralds. They were as numerous as the sands on the seashore. The young Kerver filled a sack, threw it across his shoulder, and tranquilly returned home.
His task finished, our Breton seated himself on the bench before the door of the house. As soon as he saw the giant coming he lolled back in his seat, crossed his legs, and began to sing one of his native airs.
"Have you been to the bottomless pit to collect my rent?" asked the giant, with a frown.
"Yes, master," answered Yvon, without taking the trouble to stir. "The sack is right there before your eyes; you can count it."
"I am going to see for myself," howled the giant. He untied the strings of the sack, which was so full that the gold and silver rolled in all directions.
"You have seen my Finette," he cried; "this trick did not come from your own head."
"Don't you know but one song?" said Yvon, opening his mouth and shutting his eyes. "It is the old story, myfinette, myfinette. Once for all, show me this thing."
"Well, well," roared the giant, with fury, "wait till to-morrow and you shall make her acquaintance."
"Thank you, master," said Yvon. "It is very good of you; but I see from your face that you are laughing at me."
III
The next morning the giant went out without giving Yvon any orders, which troubled Finette. At noon he returned without his flock, complaining of the heat and fatigue, and said to the young girl: