Part 3

At last he could bear it no longer. He had changed in looks now, and he changed himself still more. Then, one bright summer morning, very early in the day, he climbed the bean-stalk once more. The Giant’s wife did not know him when he came to the door of the house. He had hard work to make her let him in.

This time he was hidden in the copper boiler.

The Giant again came home, and was in a great rage.

“I smell fresh meat!” he cried. His wife could do nothing with him, and he began to go about the room. He looked into the oven, and into the closet, and then he came to the great boiler. Jack felt his heart stop. He thought now his end had come, surely. But the Giant did not lift the lid. He sat down by the fire and had his supper.

When supper was over, the Giant told his wife to bring his harp. Jack peeped out of the copper and saw a most beautiful harp. The Giant placed it on the table, and said:--

“Play!”

Jack never heard such music as the harp played. No hands touched it. It played all by itself. He thought he would rather have this harp than the hen or all the money. By and by the harp played the Giant to sleep. Then Jack crept out and seized the harp. He was running off with it, when some one called loudly:--

“Master! Master!”

It was the harp, but Jack would not let it go. The Giant started up, and saw Jack with the harp running down the road.

“Stop, you rascal!” he shouted. “You stole my hen and my money-bags. Do you steal my harp? I’ll catch you, and I’ll break every bone in your body!”

“Catch me if you can!” said Jack. He knew he could run faster than the Giant. Off they went, Jack and the harp, and the Giant after them. Jack came to the bean-stalk. The harp was all the while playing music, but now Jack said:--

“Stop!” and the harp stopped playing. He hurried down the bean-stalk with the harp. There sat his mother, by the cottage, weeping.

“Do not cry, mother,” he said. “Quick, bring me a hatchet! Make haste!” He knew there was not a minute to spare. The Giant was already coming down. He was half-way down when Jack took his hatchet and cut the beanstalk down, close to its roots. Over fell the bean-stalk, and down came the Giant upon the ground. He was killed on the spot.

In a moment the fairy was seen. She told Jack’s mother everything, and how brave he had been. And that was the end. The beanstalk never grew again.

THE FROG AND THE OX

|An Ox, grazing in a swampy meadow, set his foot among a number of young Frogs, and crushed nearly all to death. One that escaped ran off to his mother with the dreadful news.

“Oh, mother,” said he, “it was a beast--such A big, four-footed beast, that did it!”

“Big?” said the old Frog. “How big? Was it as big as this?” and she puffed herself out. “Oh, a great deal bigger than that.”

“Well, was it so big?” and she swelled herself out more.

“Indeed, mother, it was; and if you were to burst yourself, you would never reach half its size.” The old Frog made one more trial, determined to be as big as the Ox, and burst herself indeed.

THE MILLER, HIS SON, AND THEIR ASS

|A Miller and his Son were driving their Ass to the fair to sell him. They had not gone far, when they met a troop of girls, returning from the town, talking and laughing.

“Look there!” cried one of them. “Did you ever see such fools, to be trudging along on foot, when they might be riding?” The Miller, when he heard this, bade his Son get up on the Ass, and walked along merrily by his side. Soon they came to a group of old men talking gravely.

“There!” said one of them; “that proves what I was saying. What respect is shown to old age in these days? Do you see that idle young rogue riding, while his father has to walk? Get down, lazy boy, and let the old man get on!”

The Son got down from the Ass, and the Miller took his place. They had not gone far when they met a company of women and children.

“Why, you lazy old fellow!” cried several at once. “How can you ride upon the beast, when that poor little lad can hardly keep up with you?”

So the good-natured Miller took his Son up behind him. They had now almost reached the town.

“Pray, my friend,” said a townsman, “is that Ass your own?”

“Yes,” said the Miller.

“I should not have thought so,” said the other, “by the way you load him. Why, you two are better able to carry the poor beast than he to carry you.”

“Anything to please you,” said the Miller. So he and his Son got down from the Ass. They tied his legs together, and, taking a stout pole, tried to carry him on their shoulders over a bridge that led to the town.

This was so odd a sight that crowds of people ran out to see it, and to laugh at it. The Ass, not liking to be tied, kicked the cords away, and tumbled off the pole into the water. At this the Miller and his Son hung down their heads. They made their way home again, having learned that by trying to please everybody, they had pleased nobody, and lost the Ass into the bargain.

CINDERELLA, OR THE GLASS SLIPPER

I. CINDERELLA IN THE KITCHEN

|Once upon a time there lived a man and his wife and one beautiful daughter. The wife fell sick and died, and some time after the father married again, for he needed some one to take care of his child. The new wife appeared very well before the wedding, but afterward she showed a bad temper. She had two children of her own, and they were proud and unkind like their mother. They could not bear their gentle sister, and they made her do all the hard work.

She washed the dishes, and scrubbed the stairs. She swept the floor in my lady’s chamber, and took care of the rooms of the two pert misses. They slept on soft beds in fine rooms, and had tall looking-glasses, so that they could admire themselves from top to toe. She lay on an old straw sack in the garret.

She bore all this without complaint. She did her work, and then sat in the corner among the ashes and cinders. So her two sisters gave her the name of Cinderella or the cinder-maid. But Cinderella was really much more beautiful than they; and she surely was more sweet and gentle.

Now the king’s son gave a ball, and he invited all the rich and the grand. Cinderella’s two sisters were fine ladies; they were to go to the ball. Perhaps they would even dance with the prince. So they had new gowns made, and they looked over all their finery.

Here was fresh work for poor Cinderella. She must starch their ruffles and iron their linen. All day long they talked of nothing but their fine clothes.

“I shall wear my red velvet dress,” said the elder, “and trim it with my point lace.”

“And I,” said the younger sister, “shall wear a silk gown, but I shall wear over it a gold brocade, and I shall put on my diamonds. You have nothing so fine.”

Then they began to quarrel over their clothes, and Cinderella tried to make peace between them. She helped them about their dresses, and offered to arrange their hair on the night of the ball.

While she was thus busy, the sisters said to her:--

“And pray, Cinderella, would you like to go to the ball?”

“Nay,” said the poor girl; “you are mocking me. It is not for such as I to go to balls.”

“True enough,” they said. “Folks would laugh to see a cinder-maid at a court ball.”

Any one else would have dressed their hair ill to spite them for their rudeness. But Cinderella was good-natured, and only took more pains to make them look well.

The two sisters scarcely ate a morsel for two days before the ball. They wished to look thin and graceful. They lost their tempers over and over, and they spent most of the time before their tall glasses. There they turned and turned to see how they looked behind, and how their long trains hung.

At last the evening came, and off they set in a coach. Cinderella watched them till they were out of sight, and then she sat down by the kitchen fire and began to weep.

All at once her fairy godmother appeared, with her wand.

“What are you crying for, my little maid?”

“I wish--I wish,” began the poor girl, but her voice was choked with tears.

“You wish that you could go to the ball?”

Cinderella nodded.

“Well, then, if you will be a good girl, you shall go. Run quick and fetch me a pumpkin from the garden.”

Cinderella flew to the garden and brought back the finest pumpkin she could find. She could not guess what use it would be, but the fairy scooped it hollow, and then touched it with her wand. The pumpkin became at once a splendid gilt coach.

“Now fetch me the mouse-trap from the pantry.”

In the mouse-trap were six sleek mice. The fairy opened the door, and as they ran out she touched each with her wand, and it became a gray horse. But what was she to do for a coachman?

“We might look for a rat in the rat-trap,” said Cinderella.

“That is a good thought. Run and bring the rat-trap, my dear.”

Back came Cinderella with the trap. In it were three large rats. The fairy chose one that had long black whiskers, and she made him the coachman.

“Now go into the garden and bring me six lizards. You will find them behind the water-pot.”

These were no sooner brought than, lo! with a touch of the wand they were turned into six footmen, who jumped up behind the coach, as if they had done nothing else all their days. Then the fairy said:--

“Here is your coach and six, Cinderella; your coachman and your footmen. Now you can go to the ball.”

“What! in these clothes?” and Cinderella looked down at her ragged frock. The fairy laughed, and just touched her with the wand. In a twinkling, her shabby clothes were changed to a dress of gold and silver lace, and on her bare feet were silk stockings and a pair of glass slippers, the prettiest ever seen.

“Now go to the ball, Cinderella; but remember, if you stay one moment after midnight, your coach will instantly become a pumpkin, your horses will be mice, your coachman a rat, and your footmen lizards. And you? You will be once more only a cinder-maid in a ragged frock and with bare feet.”

II. CINDERELLA IN THE PALACE

|Cinderella promised and drove away in high glee. She dashed up to the palace, and her coach was so fine that the king’s son came down the steps of the palace to hand out this unknown princess. He led her to the hall where all the guests were dancing.

The moment she appeared all voices were hushed, the music stopped, and the dancers stood still. Such a beautiful princess had never been seen! Even the king, old as he was, turned to the queen and said:--

“She is the most beautiful being I ever saw--since I first saw you!”

As for the ladies of the court, they were all busy looking at Cinderella’s clothes. They meant to get some just like them the very next day, if possible.

The prince led Cinderella to the place of highest rank, and asked her hand for the next dance. She danced with so much grace that he admired her more and more. Supper was brought in, but the prince could not keep his eyes off the beautiful stranger. Cinderella went and sat by her sisters, and shared with them the fruit which the prince gave her. They were very proud to have her by them, for they never dreamed who she really was.

Cinderella was talking with them, when she heard the clock strike the quarter hour before twelve. She went at once to the king and queen, and made them a low courtesy and bade them good-night. The queen said there was to be another ball the next night, and she must come to that. The prince led her down the steps to her coach, and she drove home.

At the house the fairy sat waiting for Cinderella. The maiden began to tell all that had happened, and was in the midst of her story, when a knock was heard at the door. It was the sisters coming home from the ball. The fairy disappeared, and Cinderella went to the door, rubbing her eyes, as if she had just waked from a nap. She was once more a poor little cinder-maid.

“How late you are!” she said, as she opened the door.

“If you had been to the ball, you would not have thought it late,” said her sisters. “There came the most beautiful princess that ever was seen. She was very polite to us, and loaded us with oranges and grapes.”

“Who was she?” asked Cinderella.

“Nobody knew her name. The prince would give his eyes to know.”

“Ah! how I should like to see her,” said Cinderella. “Oh, do, my Lady Javotte,”--that was the name of the elder sister,--“lend me the yellow dress you wear every day, and let me go to the ball and have a peep at the beautiful princess.”

“What! lend my yellow gown to a cinder-maid! I am not so silly as that.”

Cinderella was not sorry to have Javotte say no; she would have been puzzled to know what to do if her sister had really lent her the dress she begged for.

The next night came, and the sisters again went to the court ball. After they had gone, the fairy came as before and made Cinderella ready.

“Now remember,” she said, as the coach drove away, “remember twelve o’clock.”

Cinderella was even more splendid than on the first night, and the king’s son never left her side He said so many pretty things that Cinderella could think of nothing else. She forgot the fairy’s warning; she forgot her promise. Eleven o’clock came, but she did not notice the striking. The half-hour struck, but the prince grew more charming, and Cinderella could hear nothing but his voice. The last quarter--but still Cinderella sat by the prince.

Then the great clock on the tower struck the first stroke of twelve. Up sprang Cinderella, and fled from the room. The prince started to follow her, but she was too swift for him; in her flight, one of her glass slippers fell from her feet, and he stopped to pick it up.

The last stroke of twelve died away, as Cinderella darted down the steps of the palace. In a twinkling the gay lady was gone; only a shabby cinder-maid was running down the steps. The splendid coach and six, driver and footman,--all were gone; only a pumpkin lay on the ground, and a rat, six mice, and six lizards scampered off.

Cinderella reached home, quite out of breath. She had saved nothing of all her finery but one little glass slipper. The prince had its mate, but he had lost the princess. He asked the soldiers at the palace gate if they had not seen her drive away. No; at that hour only a ragged girl had passed out.

Soon the two sisters came home from the ball, and Cinderella asked them if they had again seen the beautiful lady. Yes; she had been at the ball, but she had left suddenly, and no one knew what had become of her. But the prince would surely find her, for he had one of her glass slippers.

They spoke truly. A few days afterward, the king’s son sent a messenger with a trumpet and the slipper through all the city. The messenger sounded his trumpet and shouted that the prince would marry the lady who could wear the glass slipper. So the slipper was first tried on by all the princesses; then by all the duchesses; next by all the persons belonging to the court; but in vain: not one could wear it.

Then it was carried to all the fine houses, and it came at last to the two sisters. They tried with all their might to force a foot into the fairy slipper, but they could not. Cinderella stood by, and said:--

“Suppose I were to try.” Her two sisters jeered at her, but the messenger looked at Cinderella. He saw that she was very fair, and, besides, he had orders to try the slipper on the foot of every maiden in the kingdom, if need were.

So he bade Cinderella sit down on a three-legged stool in the kitchen. She put out her little foot, and the slipper fitted like wax. The sisters stood in amaze. Then Cinderella put her hand into her pocket and drew forth the other glass slipper, and put it on her other foot.

The moment that Cinderella did this, the fairy, who stood by unseen, touched her with her wand, and the cinder-maid again became the beautiful, gayly dressed lady. The sisters saw that she was the same one whom they had seen at the ball. They thought how ill they had treated her all these years, and they fell at her feet and asked her to forgive them.

Cinderella was as good now as she had been when she was a cinder-maid. She freely forgave her sisters, and took them to the palace with her, for she was now to be the prince’s wife. And when the old king and queen died, the prince and Cinderella became King and Queen.

THE WOLF IN SHEEP’S CLOTHING

|A Wolf once dressed himself in the skin of a Sheep, and so got in among the flock, where he killed a good many of them. At last the Shepherd found him out, and hanged him upon a tree as a warning to other wolves.

Some Shepherds going by saw the wolf, and thought it was a Sheep. They wondered why the Shepherd should hang a Sheep. So they asked him, and he answered: “I hang a Wolf when I catch him, even though he be dressed in a Sheep’s clothes.”

THE ARAB AND HIS CAMEL

|One cold night, as an Arab sat in his tent, a Camel thrust the flap of the tent aside, and looked in.

“I pray thee, master,” he said, “let me put my head within the tent, for it is cold without.”

“By all means, and welcome,” said the Arab; and the Camel stretched his head into the tent.

“If I might but warm my neck, also,” he said, presently.

“Put your neck inside,” said the Arab. Soon the Camel, who had been turning his head from side to side, said again:--

“It will take but little more room if I put my fore legs within the tent. It is difficult standing without.”

“You may also put your fore legs within,” said the Arab, moving a little to make room, for the tent was very small.

“May I not stand wholly within?” asked the Camel, finally. “I keep the tent open by standing as I do.”

“Yes, yes,” said the Arab. “I will have pity on you as well as on myself. Come wholly inside.”

So the Camel came forward and crowded into the tent. But the tent was too small for both.

“I think,” said the Camel, “that there is not room for both of us here. It will be best for you to stand outside, as you are the smaller; there will then be room enough for me.”

And with that he pushed the Arab a little, who made haste to get outside of the tent.

It is a wise rule to resist the beginnings of evil.

TOM THUMB

I. TOM IS SOLD FOR A BARGAIN

|A poor woodman once sat by the fire in his cottage, and his wife sat by his side, spinning.

“How lonely it is,” said he, “for you and me to sit here by ourselves without any children to play about and amuse us.”

“What you say is very true,” said his wife, as she turned her wheel. “How happy should I be, if I had but one child. If it were ever so small, if it were no bigger than my thumb, I should be very happy and love it dearly.”

Now it came to pass that the good woman had her wish, for some time afterward she had a little boy who was healthy and strong, but not much bigger than her thumb. So they said:--

“Well, we cannot say we have not got what we wished for, and, little as he is, we will love him dearly!” and they called him Tom Thumb. They gave him plenty to eat, yet he never grew bigger. Still his eyes were sharp and sparkling, and he soon showed himself to be a bright little fellow, who always knew what he was about.

One day the woodman was getting ready to go into the wood to cut fuel, and he said:--

“I wish I had some one to bring the cart after me, for I want to make haste.”

“O father,” cried Tom, “I will take care of that. The cart shall be in the wood by the time you want it.” The woodman laughed and said:

“How can that be? You cannot reach up to the horse’s bridle.”

“Never mind that, father. If my mother will only harness the horse, I will get into his ear, and tell him which way to go.”

“Well,” said the father, “we will try for once.”

When the time came, the mother harnessed the horse to the cart, and put Tom into his ear. There the little man sat and told the beast how to go, crying out, “Go on,” and “Stop,” as he wanted. So the horse went on just as if the woodman were driving it himself.

It happened that the horse fell to trotting too fast, and Tom called out, “Gently, gently.” Just then two strangers came up.

“How odd it is,” one of them said. “There is a cart going along, and I hear a carter talking to the horse, but I see no one.”

“That is strange,” said the other. “Let us follow the cart and see where it goes.” They went on into the wood, and came at last to the place where the woodman was. The cart drove up and Tom said:--

“See, father, here I am with the cart, safe and sound. Now, take me down.”

So his father took hold of the horse with one hand, and lifted his son down with the other. He put him on a little stick, where he was as merry as you please. The two strangers looked on and saw it all, and did not know what to say for wonder. At last one took the other aside and said:--

“That little chap will make our fortune if we can get him, and carry him about from town to town as a show. We must buy him.” Then they went to the woodman and asked him what he would take for the little man. “He will be better off with us than with you,” they said.

“I’ll not sell him at all,” said the father. “My own flesh and blood is dearer to me than all the silver and gold in the world.”

But Tom heard what was said, and crept up his father’s coat to his shoulder, and spoke in his ear:--

“Take the money, father, and let them have me. I’ll soon come back to you.” So the woodman at last agreed to sell Tom Thumb to the strangers for a large piece of gold.

“Where do you like to sit?” one of them asked Tom.

“Oh, put me on the rim of your hat; that will be a nice place for me. I can walk about there and see the country as we go along.”

They did as he wished. Tom took leave of his father, and went off with the two strangers. They kept on their way till it began to grow dark. Then Tom said:--

“Let me get down, I am tired.” So the man took off his hat, and set him down on a lump of earth in a ploughed field, by the side of the road. But Tom ran about among the furrows, and at last slipped into an old mouse-hole.

“Good-night, masters. I’m off,” said he.

“Look sharp after me next time.” They ran to the place and poked the ends of their sticks into the mouse-hole, but all in vain. Tom crawled farther in. They could not get him, and as it was now quite dark they went away very cross.

II. HOW TOM FRIGHTENED THE THIEVES

|When Tom found they were gone, he crept out of his hiding-place.

“How dangerous it is,” said he, “to walk about in this ploughed field. If I were to fall from one of those big lumps I should surely break my neck.” At last, he found a large, empty snail-shell.

“This is lucky,” said he. “I can sleep here very well,” and in he crept. Just as he was falling asleep he heard two men pass by, and one said to the other:--

“How shall we manage to steal that rich farmer’s silver and gold?”

“I’ll tell you!” cried Tom.

“What noise was that? I am sure I heard some one speak,” said the thief. He was in a great fright. They both stood listening, and Tom spoke up:--

“Take me with you, and I will show you how to get the farmer’s money.”

“But where are you?”

“Look about on the ground, and listen where the sound comes from.”

“What a little chap! What can you do for us?”

“Why, I can get between the iron window bars, and throw you out whatever you want.”

“That is a good thought. Come along; we will see what you can do.”

When they came to the farmer’s house, Tom slipped through the bars into the room, and then called out as loud as he could:--

“Will you have all that is here?”

“Softly, softly!” said the thieves. “Speak low, or you will wake somebody.”

Tom made as if he did not understand them, and bawled out again:--

“How much will you have? Shall I throw it all out?”

Now the cook lay in the next room, and hearing a noise, she raised herself in her bed and listened. But the thieves had been thrown into a fright and had run away. By and by they plucked up courage, and said:--