Part 9

GOLDILOCKS AND THE THREE BEARS

There was once a little girl whose hair was so bright and yellow that it glittered in the sun like spun-gold. For this reason she was called Goldilocks.

One day Goldilocks went out into the meadows to gather flowers. She wandered on and on, and after a while she came to a forest, where she had never been before. She went on into the forest, and it was very cool and shady.

Presently she came to a little house, standing all alone in the forest, and as she was tired and thirsty she knocked at the door. She hoped the good people inside would give her a drink, and let her rest a little while.

Now, though Goldilocks did not know it, this house belonged to three bears. There was a GREAT BIG FATHER BEAR, +and a middling-sized mother bear+, and a _dear little baby bear_, no bigger than Goldilocks herself. But the three bears had gone out to take a walk in the forest while their supper was cooling, so when Goldilocks knocked at the door no one answered her.

She waited awhile and then she knocked again, and as still nobody answered her she pushed the door open and stepped inside. There in a row stood three chairs. One was a GREAT BIG CHAIR, and it belonged to the father bear. And one was a +middling-sized chair+, and it belonged to the mother bear, and one was a _dear little chair_, and it belonged to the baby bear. And on the table stood three bowls of smoking hot porridge. “And so,” thought Goldilocks, “the people must be coming back soon to eat it.”

She thought she would sit down and rest until they came, so first she sat down in the GREAT BIG CHAIR, but the cushion was too soft. It seemed as though it would swallow her up. Then she sat down in the +middle-sized chair+, and the cushion was too hard, and it was not comfortable. Then she sat down in the _dear little chair_, and it was just right, and fitted her as though it had been made for her. So there she sat, and she rocked and she rocked, and she sat and she sat, until with her rocking and her sitting she sat the bottom right out of it.

And still nobody had come, and there stood the bowls of porridge on the table. “They can’t be very hungry people,” thought Goldilocks to herself, “or they would come home to eat their suppers.” And she went over to the table just to see whether the bowls were full.

The first bowl was a GREAT BIG BOWL with a GREAT BIG WOODEN SPOON in it, and that was the father bear’s bowl. The second bowl was a +middle-sized bowl+, with a +middle-sized wooden spoon+ in it, and that was the mother bear’s bowl. And the third bowl was a _dear little bowl_, with a _dear little silver spoon_ in it, and that was the baby bear’s bowl.

The porridge that was in the bowls smelled so very good that Goldilocks thought she would just taste it.

She took up the GREAT BIG SPOON, and tasted the porridge in the GREAT BIG BOWL, but it was too hot. Then she took up the +middle-sized spoon+ and tasted the porridge in the +middle-sized bowl+, and it was too cold. Then she took up the _little silver spoon_ and tasted the porridge in the _dear little bowl_, and it was just right, and it tasted so good that she tasted and tasted, and tasted and tasted until she tasted it all up.

After that she felt very sleepy, so she went upstairs and looked about her, and there were three beds all in a row. The first bed was the GREAT BIG BED that belonged to the father bear. And the second bed was a +middling-sized bed+ that belonged to the mother bear, and the third bed was a _dear little bed_ that belonged to the dear little baby bear.

Goldilocks lay down on the GREAT BIG BED to try it, but the pillow was too high, and she wasn’t comfortable at all.

Then she lay down on the +middle-sized bed+, and the pillow was too low, and that wasn’t comfortable either.

Then she lay down on the _little baby bear’s bed_ and it was exactly right, and so very comfortable that she lay there and lay there until she went fast asleep.

Now while Goldilocks was still asleep in the little bed the three bears came home again, and as soon as they stepped inside the door and looked about them they knew that somebody had been there.

“SOMEBODY’S BEEN SITTING IN MY CHAIR,” growled the father bear in his great big voice, “AND LEFT THE CUSHION CROOKED.”

“+And somebody’s been sitting in my chair+,” said the mother bear, “+and left it standing crooked+.”

“_And somebody’s been sitting in my chair_,” squeaked the baby bear, in his shrill little voice, “_and they’ve sat and sat till they’ve sat the bottom out_”; and he felt very sad about it.

Then the three bears went over to the table to get their porridge.

“WHAT’S THIS!” growled the father bear, in his great big voice, “SOMEBODY’S BEEN TASTING MY PORRIDGE, AND LEFT THE SPOON ON THE TABLE.”

“+And somebody’s been taking my porridge+,” said the mother bear in her middle-sized voice, “+and they’ve splashed it over the side+.”

“_And somebody’s been tasting my porridge_,” squealed the baby bear, “_and they’ve tasted and tasted until they’ve tasted it all up_.” And when he said so the baby bear looked as if he were about to cry.

“+If somebody’s been here they must be here still+,” said the mother bear; so the three bears went upstairs to look.

First the father bear looked at his bed. “SOMEBODY’S BEEN LYING ON MY BED AND PULLED THE COVERS DOWN,” he growled in his great big voice.

Then the mother bear looked at her bed. “+Somebody’s been lying on my bed and pulled the pillow off+,” said she in her middle-sized voice.

Then the baby bear looked at his bed, and there lay little Goldilocks with her cheeks as pink as roses, and her golden hair all spread over the pillow.

“_Somebody’s been lying in my bed_,” squeaked the baby bear joyfully, “_and here she is still!_”

Now when Goldilocks in her dreams heard the great big father bear’s voice she dreamed it was the thunder rolling through the heavens.

And when she heard the mother bear’s middle-sized voice she dreamed it was the wind blowing through the trees.

But when she heard the baby bear’s voice it was so shrill and sharp that it woke her right up. She sat up in bed and there were the three bears standing around and looking at her.

“Oh, my goodness me!” cried Goldilocks. She tumbled out of bed and ran to the window. It was open, and out she jumped before the bears could stop her. Then home she ran as fast as she could, and she never went near the forest again. But the little baby bear cried and cried because he had wanted the pretty little girl to play with.

THE THREE LITTLE PIGS

A mother pig and her three little pigs lived together in a wood very happily all through the long summertime, but towards autumn the mother pig called her little ones to her and said, “My dear little pigs, the time has come for you to go out into the world and seek your own fortunes. You will each want to build a little house to live in, but do not build them of straw or leaves; straws are brittle and leaves are frail. Build your houses of bricks, for then you will always have a safe place to live in; you can go in and lock the door, and nothing can harm you.” She then bade the little pigs farewell, and away they ran out into the world to make their fortunes.

The first little pig had not gone far when he met a man with a load of straw. The straw looked so warm, and smelled so good that the little pig quite forgot what his mother had told him.

“Please, Mr. Man,” said the little pig, “give me enough straw to build a house to keep me warm through the long winter.”

The man did not say no. He gave the little pig all the straw he wanted, and then he drove on.

The little pig built himself a house of straw, and it was so warm and cosy that he was quite delighted with it. “How much better,” said he “than a house of cold hard bricks.”

So he lay there snug and warm, and presently the old wolf knocked at the door.

“Piggy-wig, piggy-wig, let me in!” he cried.

“I won’t, by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin,” answered the pig.

“Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house in.”

The little pig laughed aloud, for he felt very safe in his snug straw house.

“Well, then huff, and then puff, and then blow my house in!” he cried.

Well, the old wolf _did_ huff and puff, and he _did_ blow the house in, for it was only made of straw, and then he ate up the pig.

The second little pig when he left the forest ran along and ran along and presently he met a man with a great load of leaves.

“Oh, kind Mr. Man, please give me some leaves to build me a little house for the winter time,” cried the piggy.

The man was willing to do this. He gave the pig all the leaves he wanted, and then he went on his way.

The pig built himself a house of leaves and it was even snugger and warmer than the straw house had been. “How silly my mother was,” said the pig, “to tell me to build a brick house. What could be warmer and cosier and safer than this.” And he snuggled down among the leaves and was very happy.

Presently along came the great wolf, and he stopped and knocked at the door.

“Piggy-wig, piggy-wig, let me in!” he cried.

“I won’t, by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin!”

“Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house in.”

The little pig laughed when he heard that, for the walls were thick, and he felt secure.

“Well, then huff, and then puff, and then _blow_ my house in.”

So the wolf huffed, and he puffed, and he _did_ blow the house in, and he ate up the little pig that was inside of it.

Now the third little pig was the smallest pig of all, but he was a very wise little pig, and he meant to do exactly as his mother had told him to do. After he left the forest he met a man driving a wagon-load of straw, but he did not ask for any of it. He met the man with the load of leaves, but he did not ask for any of it. He met a man with a load of bricks, and _then_ he stopped and begged so prettily for enough bricks to build himself a little house that the man could not refuse him.

The pig took the bricks and built himself a little red house with them, and it was not an easy task either. When it was done it was not so soft as the little straw house, and it was not so warm as the little leaf house, but it was a very _safe_ little house.

Presently the old wolf came along and knocked at the door—rat-tat-tat!

“Piggy-wig, piggy-wig, let me in,” he called.

“I won’t, by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin.”

“Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house in.”

“Well, then huff, and then puff, and then blow my house in,” answered the pig.

So the old wolf huffed and he puffed, and he _puffed and he huffed_, and he +HUFFED AND HE PUFFED+ till he almost split his sides, and he just _couldn’t_ blow the house in, and the little pig laughed to himself as he sat safe and comfortable inside there.

The old wolf saw there was nothing to be done by blowing, so he sat down and thought and thought. Then he said, “Piggy-wig, I know where there is a field of fine turnips.”

“Where?” asked the little pig.

“Open the door and I will tell you.”

No, the little pig could hear quite well with the door closed.

“It is just up the road three fields away,” said the wolf, “and if you would like to have some I will come for you at six o’clock to-morrow morning, and we will go and dig them up together.”

“At six o’clock!” said the little pig. “Very well.”

Then the old wolf trotted off home, licking his lips, and he was well content, for he thought he would have pig for breakfast the next day.

But the next morning the little pig was up and astir by five o’clock. Off he trotted to the turnip field and gathered a whole bagful of turnips and was home again before the old wolf thought of coming.

At six o’clock the old wolf knocked at the door.

“Are you ready to go for the turnips, Piggy?” he cried.

“Ready!” answered the pig. “Why I was up and off to the field an hour ago and I have all the turnips I want, and I’m boiling them for breakfast.”

“That’s what you did!” said the wolf. And then he thought a bit. “Piggy, do you like fine ripe apples?” he asked.

Yes, the pig was very fond of apples.

“Then I can tell you where to find some.”

“Where is that?”

“Over beyond the hill in the squire’s orchard, and if you will play me no tricks I will come for you at five o’clock to-morrow, and we will go together, and gather some.”

Very well; the pig would be ready.

So the wolf trotted off home, and this time he was very sure that he would have a nice fat little piggy for breakfast the next morning.

The little pig got up at four o’clock the next day, and off he started for the orchard as fast as his four little feet would carry him. But the way was long, and the tree was hard to climb, and while he was still up among the branches gathering apples the old wolf came trotting into the orchard. The little pig was very much frightened, but he kept very still and hoped, up among the leaves, the wolf would not see him.

The wolf peered about, first up one tree and then up another, and finally he spied the piggy up among the branches.

“Why did you not wait for me?”

“Oh, I knew you would be along presently.”

“How soon are you coming down?”

“When I have picked a few more apples.”

The old wolf sat down at the foot of the tree, and the pig sat up among the branches crunching apples and smacking his lips.

“Are they good?” asked the wolf looking up; and his mouth watered.

Yes, they were very good.

“Could you not throw one down to me?”

Yes, the little pig could do that.

He picked the biggest, reddest apple he could, and then he threw it, but he threw it far off, and in such a way that it went bounding and rolling down the hill slope. The wolf bounded down the hill after it, and while he was catching it, the little pig climbed down the tree and ran safely home with his basketful of apples.

When the old wolf found the pig had tricked him again he was very angry. He was more determined than ever that he would catch the little pig. He trotted off to the little red house and knocked at the door.

“Did you get all the apples you wanted?” asked the wolf.

Yes, the little pig had all he wanted, and he was very much obliged to the wolf for telling him about the orchard.

“Listen, Piggy, there’s to be a fine fair over in the town to-morrow,” said the wolf. “Wouldn’t you like to go?”

Yes, the little pig would like very much to go.

“Very well,” said the wolf. “Then I will come for you at half-past three to-morrow, and we will go together.”

“Very well,” said the little pig. But long before half-past three the next day, piggy was off to the fair, and he took four bright silver pieces with him, for he wanted to buy himself a butter-churn. It did not take him long to buy the churn, and then he started home again, carrying it on his back.

But the wolf had learned a thing or two about the little pig’s tricks. He, too, started off to the fair long before half-past three, and so it was that the little pig was scarcely half-way home, and had just reached the top of a high hill, when he saw the wolf come trotting up the hill directly toward him. The little pig was terrified. He looked all around but he could not see any place to hide. He decided the best thing he could do was to get inside the churn. So he put it down and crept inside it. But the hill was very steep, and no sooner was the piggy inside the churn than it began to roll down the hill slope bumpety-bumpety-bump, over rocks and stones, leaping and bounding like a live thing. The little pig did not know what was happening to him. He began to squeal at the top of his voice.

The old wolf was half-way up the hill when he heard the noise. He looked up, and there was a great round thing coming bounding over the rocks straight at him, and squeaking and squeaking as it came. He gave one look and his hair bristled with fear, and with a howl he turned tail and ran home as fast as he could. He never stopped till he was safe inside his house, and had shut and locked the door behind him. There he crouched, trembling and wondering what would happen. But nothing happened, and all was quiet, so after awhile the wolf ventured out and ran over to the pig’s house.

“Piggy, Piggy! Are you in there?”

Yes, the little pig was sitting by the fire roasting apples.

“Then, listen while I tell you what happened to me on the way to the fair.” Then the wolf put his nose close to the crack of the door, and told the little pig all about the great round squealing thing that had chased him down the hill.

The little pig laughed and laughed. “And I can tell you exactly what the great squealing thing was; it was a churn I had bought at the fair, and I was inside it.”

When the old wolf heard this he was so furious that he determined to have the little pig whether or no, even if he had to climb up on the roof and down the chimney to get him. He stuck his sharp nails in between the bricks of the house and climbed right up the side of it and onto the roof. Then he climbed up on the chimney and slid down it into the fire-place.

But the little pig had heard what he was doing, and was ready for him. He had a great pot of boiling water on the fire, and when he heard the wolf slipping and scrabbling down the chimney he took the lid off the kettle, and plump! the old wolf fell right into the boiling water. Then the little pig clapped the lid tight down over him, and that was the end of the wolf.

But the little pig lived on in peace and plenty forever after, and if any other wolf ever came along to bother him I never heard of it.

THE GOLDEN KEY

It was winter, and a little lad had gone out into the forest to gather wood to keep the fire going at home. As there was snow upon the ground he took his little sledge with him, for he could carry home a larger load on the sledge than on his back.

He gathered together a heap of fallen branches, and then piled them neatly on the sledge, putting the larger pieces at the bottom. Before he had finished the task his fingers were almost frozen, for he had no mittens. “Before I start to drag my sled home,” said he to himself, “I will build a fire and warm my hands a bit.”

He took a stick, and cleared away some of the snow, so as to have a place to build the fire. When he had done this he saw a little golden key lying there on the ground. The little lad picked it up, wondering. “Wherever there is a key, there must be a lock,” he said.

He began to scrape away the earth, and presently he found a curious looking chest made of iron inlaid with silver. There were words written on the lid of the chest, but the little boy could not read them.

He lifted the chest out from the earth, and it seemed to him that something was stirring inside of it. Then a little thin voice, as thin as a thread, cried to him. “Let me out! Let me out, and I will make your fortune.”

The little boy was very much surprised. The chest seemed too small for any living being to be in it.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“Open the chest and see. If you will only let me out you will never be sorry.”

The little boy put the golden key in the lock and it fitted exactly. He turned it round and the lock flew back. But as to what was in the chest you will have to wait until he lifts the lid before you can see.

MOTHER HULDA

There was once a widow who had two daughters; the elder of the girls was cross and ugly, but the mother loved her dearly because she was exactly like herself, and also because she was her own daughter. The younger girl was only her stepdaughter, and because of this, and also because the girl was good and pretty the mother hated her, and did all she could to make her miserable.

One day the good daughter sat by the well spinning, and as she spun she wept because she was so unhappy. The tears blinded her eyes, and presently she pricked her finger, and a drop of blood fell on the flax. The girl was frightened, for she feared her stepmother would scold her when she saw the flax, so she stooped over the edge of the well to try to wash the blood off it. But the spindle slipped from her hand and sank down and down through the water until it was lost to sight.

That was worse than ever; the girl did not know what her stepmother would do to her when she heard the spindle had been lost down the well. Still she was obliged to confess.

The widow was indeed very angry.

“You good-for-nothing!” she cried. “You are the trouble of my life. Out of my sight, and do not dare to return until you can bring the spindle with you,” and she gave the girl a push so that she almost fell over.

The girl was so frightened and unhappy that she ran out of the door; without stopping to think, she jumped into the well. Down, down she sank, through the waters, just as the spindle had done, and when she reached the bottom she found herself in a broad green meadow with a road leading across it.

The girl followed the road, and presently she came to a baker’s oven that stood beside the way, and it was full of bread. The girl was about to pass by, but the loaves inside called to her, “Take us out! Take us out! If we are left in the oven any longer we will burn.”

She was surprised to hear the bread speak to her, but she opened the door and drew the loaves out, and set them neatly on end to cool. Then she went on.

A little farther, she came to an apple-tree. It was so loaded down with fruit that the branches bent with the weight of it.

“Shake me! Shake me!” cried the apple-tree. “My apples are ripe and my boughs are like to break with the weight of them.”

The girl shook the apple-tree till the apples fell about her in a shower. She piled the apples neatly about the tree and went on her way.

After awhile she came to a little house, and an ugly old woman with long yellow teeth was looking out of the window. The girl was frightened at the old woman’s looks, and was about to turn away, but the woman called to her, “Do not be afraid. I will not hurt you. I need a serving-maid. Come in, and if you serve me faithfully I will reward you well.”

The girl did not feel afraid any longer. She opened the door and went in.

The old woman took her upstairs and showed her a great feather bed. “I am Mother Hulda,” said she. “It is I who send out the frost and snow over the world. Every day you must give my bed a good beating. Then, when the feathers fly, it snows upon the earth.”

The girl stayed with Mother Hulda many months. Every day she gave the bed such a good beating that the feathers flew, and there was much snow that year. Mother Hulda was very much pleased with her. She was kind to her, and the girl had all she wanted to eat, and that of the best, and a comfortable bed to sleep in; but all the same, by the time the winter was over she began to feel sad and dull. She longed to see her home and her mother and sister, too, even though they were unkind to her.

“Now I see it is time for you to go back to the earth again,” said Mother Hulda. “You have served me well and faithfully, and you shall be rewarded as I promised you.”

She then opened a closet door and brought out the girl’s spindle and gave it to her. After that she took the girl by the hand and led her out of the house and along a road to a great gate that stood open.

“There lies your way,” said Mother Hulda.

The girl passed out through the gate, and as she did so a shower of gold fell all about her like rain, and stuck to her so that she glittered from head to foot with gold; even her shoes and her clothes were golden.

“That is my reward to you because you have been a good servant,” cried Mother Hulda. Then the gate closed, and the girl ran along the road and quickly came to the house of her stepmother.

As she entered the gate the cock crowed loudly, “Cock-a-doodle-doo! Our golden girl’s come home again.”