Categories
FairyTales

Three Butterflies

Once upon a time, there were three beautiful butterflies. The three were different colours. One was red, one was yellow, and one was white.

The butterflies were best friends. One day they were flying around a park. There were flowers all around them.

Dark clouds rolled in the sky above. The butterflies knew it would rain soon. They started to look for a place to stay dry inside the flowers.

There was a pretty white lily growing by itself. The butterflies flew towards it.

“May we shelter from the rain under your petals?”

“Only you, white butterfly,” said the lily. “You are the same colour as my petals!”

The butterflies fluttered to a tulip instead. It was bigger than the lily.

“Excuse me, tulip, may we shelter under your petals?” asked the yellow butterfly.

“You can, yellow butterfly. Your red friend can come in too! As you can see, my petals are yellow and red. The white butterfly can’t come in. He doesn’t match my petals!”

“All three of us, or none of us!” cried the butterflies.

The sun blinked through the dark clouds. On seeing how close the three butterflies were, the shining sun drove the rain away.

dreiSchmetterlinge2

Categories
FairyTales

The Story of The Three Bears

This is the versified version of Robert Southey’s The Story of the Three Bears,


 

THE STORY
OF
THE THREE BEARS.

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SECOND EDITION.


LONDON:
WRIGHT, 60, PALL-MALL.

1839.

 

DEDICATION.

Unknown Author of “The Doctor,”

Great, original Concoctor

Of the rare story of the Bears,

Their porridge-pots, their beds and chairs,

Which you with condescending pen,

To please “Good little women and men,”

Have writ—I pray you to excuse

The freedom of my rhyming muse,

For having ventured to rehearse

This tale of your’s in jingling verse;

But fearing in your book it might

Escape some little people’s sight,

I did not like that one should lose

What will them all so much amuse.

“The robb’d that smiles”—so Shakspeare wrote—

“Steals something from the thief.” I quote

This line in hope that you will smile

Upon this little book, the while

You turn the leaves and pictures view,

Which a young skilful artist drew,

Who quite delighted with the story

Employ’d his pencil, con amore

Thus hoping, Sir, I’ve but to state

That it, with admiration great

And much respect, I dedicate

To you, and am,—whate’er your name,

Which some day will be known to fame,

Though hidden now from public ken,—

Your humble copyist,

G. N.

July, 1837.

 

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THE THREE BEARS.

Three Bears, once on a time, did dwell

Snug in a house together,

Which was their own, and suited well

By keeping out the weather.

‘Twas seated in a shady wood,In which they daily walk’d,

And afterwards, as in the mood,

They smok’d and read, or talk’d.

One of them was a great huge Bear,

And one of a middle size,

The other a little, small, wee Bear,

Withsmall red twinkling eyes.

These Bears, each had a porridge-pot,From which they used to feed;

The great huge Bear’s own porridge-pot

Was very large indeed.

A pot of a middle-size the Bear

Of a middle-size had got,

And so the little, small, wee Bear,

A little, small, wee pot.

A chair there was for every Bear,When they might choose to sit;

The huge Bear had a great huge chair,

And filled it every bit.

The middle Bear a chair had he

Of a middle-size and neat;

The Bear so little, small, and wee

A little, small, wee seat.

They, also, each one had a bedTo sleep upon at night:

The huge Bear’s was a great, huge bed,

In length, and width, and height.

The middle Bear laid down his head

On a bed of middle-size;

The wee Bear on a small, wee bed

Did nightly close his eyes.

One morn their porridge being madeAnd pour’d into each pot,

To taste it they were all afraid

It seem’d so boiling hot.

“A burnt child dreads the fire”—A Bear

Doth dread it just as much,

As these Bears proved, in taking care

Their porridge not to touch,

 

The story of the three bears 1839 pg 21.jpg

 

For they most cautious had becomeFrom having once before

Their mouths severely burnt with some,

Which made them dance and roar!

They, therefore, let their breakfast be

Till it should cooler grow—

And meantime for a walk the three

Into the wood did go.

And now a little old woman thereCame, whilst the Bears were out;

Through window, keyhole, everywhere,

She peep’d and peer’d about:

And then she lifted up the latch

And through the door she went,

For hold of all she could to snatch

No doubt was her intent.

 

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The bears had left the door undoneWhilst strolling in the wood,

For they suspected harm from none

They were, themselves, so good.

The little old Dame had entered in,

And was well pleased to find

The porridge-pots, and that within

They held food of such kind.

Now has she waited till home cameThe bears, most likely they

To breakfast might have asked the Dame,

And begg’d of her to stay.

But she was impudent and bold,

And cared for none a pin;

So quickly of a spoon laid hold

The porridge to dip in.

And first out of the great Bear’s PotThe porridge she did taste,

Which proving to be very hot

She spat it out in haste.

She burn’d her mouth, at which half mad

She said a naughty word;

A naughty word it was and bad,

As ever could be heard.

The middle Bear’s she tasted next,Which being rather cold,

She disappointed was, and vext,

And with bad words did scold.

But now to where the small, wee Bear

Had left his small, wee cup

She came, and soon the porridge there

By her was eaten up.

 

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A wicked word she spoke againAs wicked as before,

Because this pot did not contain

Many a spoonful more.

Then down the little old woman sat

Within the huge Bear’s chair,

But much too hard for her was that,

And so she staid not there.

Next she tried the middle-sized oneAnd that too soft she found;

Then sat the small, wee chair upon,

Which fitted her all round.

Now here for sometime sat the Dame

Till half inclined to snore,

When out this wee chair’s bottom came

And her’s came to the floor

 

The story of the three bears 1839 pg 34.png

 

A wicked word about this tooShe spoke—then went up-stairs,

And poked her ugly head into

The bed-room of the Bears.

And down upon the huge Bear’s bed

She lay, which was too high

To suit her little ugly head,

Which easy could not lie.

Then to the middle Bear’s she goesAnd quick upon it got,

But at the foot too high it rose,

And so she liked it not.

Now down upon the small wee bed

She lay, and it was quite

The thing, both at the foot and head,

And fitted her just right.

 

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Thus finding that it suited wellWithin the clothes she crept;

Then into a slumber fell

And snug and soundly slept.

Although the morning sun shone bright

And birds did sweetly sing,

She slept, as if it had been night,

This sad, old, lazy thing.

The three Bears in their jackets roughNow came in from the wood,

Thinking their porridge long enough

To cool itself had stood.

“Somebody has at my porridge been!”

The huge Bear’s gruff voice cried;

For there the spoon was sticking in,

Which he left at the side.

 

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“Somebody has at my Porridge been!”

Then said the middle Bear,

For also in his pot was seen

The spoon, which made him stare.

These spoons were wooden spoons, not made

Of silver, else full soon

This wicked Dame would, I’m afraid,

Have pocketed each spoon.

The small Bear’s small voice said, as inHe peer’d to his wee cup,

“Somebody has at my porridge been, And eaten it all up!”

On this the three Bears finding that

The while they had been out,

Some one the door had entered at

Began to look about.

 

The story of the three bears 1839 pg 46.png

 

“Somebody in my chair has sat!”

With voice so gruff and great

The huge Bear said, when he saw that

His cushion was not straight.

“Somebody in my chair has been!”

The middle Bear exclaim’d;

Seeing the cushion dinted in

By what may not be named.

Then said the little small wee Bear,Looking his chair into,

“Some one’s been sitting in my chair, And sat the bottom through!

Now having search’d the house below

Most Prudently these Bears,

Thought it just as well to go

And do the same up-stairs.

 

The story of the three bears 1839 pg 50.png

 

“Some one’s been lying in my bed!”

Cried out the great huge Bear,

Who left his pillow at the head

And now it was not there.

“Some one’s been lying in my bed!”

The middle Bear then cried,

For it was tumbled at the head

And at the foot and side.

And Now the little wee Bear saidWith voice both small and shrill,

“Some one’s been lying in my bed— And here she’s lying still !”

The other Bears look’d at the bed,

And on the pillow-case

They saw her little dirty head

And little ugly face.

The little old woman had the deepVoice of the huge Bear heard,

But she was in so sound a sleep

She neither woke nor stirr’d:

For it appear’d to her no more

Than thunder rumbling by,

Or than the angry winds, which roar,

And sweep along the sky.

And she had heard the middle Bear,Whose middle voice did seem

To her asleep, as though it were

The voice but of a dream.

But when the small, wee Bear did speak,

She started up in bed,

His voice it was so shrill, the squeak

Shot through her ugly head.

 

The story of the three bears 1839 pg 56.png

 

She rubb’d her eyes, and when she sawThe three bears at her side,

She sprang full quick upon the floor—

And then with hop and stride

She to the open window flew,

Which these good tidy Bears

Wide open every morning threw,

When shaved they went down stairs.

She lept out with a sudden bound,And whether in her fall

She broke her neck upon the ground,

Or was not hurt at all,

Or whether to the wood she fled

And ‘mongst the trees was lost,

Or found a path which straightway led

To where the highways cross’d,

 

The story of the three bears 1839 pg 60.png

 

And there was by the Beadle caughtAnd taken into jail—

This sad old woman good for naught!—

Remains an untold tale.

THE END.

 

PRINTED BY W. NICOL. 60, PALL-MALL.

Categories
FairyTales

Titty Mouse And Tatty Mouse

Titty Mouse and Tatty Mouse both lived in a house,
Titty Mouse went a leasing and Tatty Mouse went a leasing,

So they both went a leasing.

Titty Mouse leased an ear of corn, and Tatty Mouse leased an ear of corn,

So they both leased an ear of corn.

Titty Mouse made a pudding, and Tatty Mouse made a pudding,

So they both made a pudding.

And Tatty Mouse put her pudding into the pot to boil,

But when Titty went to put hers in, the pot tumbled over, and scalded her to death.

Then Tatty sat down and wept; then a three-legged stool said: “Tatty, why do you weep?” “Titty’s dead,” said Tatty, “and so I weep;” “then,” said the stool, “I’ll hop,” so the stool hopped.

Then a broom in the corner of the room said, “Stool, why do you hop?” “Oh!” said the stool, “Titty’s dead, and Tatty weeps, and so I hop;” “then,” said the broom, “I’ll sweep,” so the broom began to sweep.

“Then,” said the door, “Broom, why do you sweep?” “Oh!” said the broom, “Titty’s dead, and Tatty weeps, and the stool hops, and so I sweep;” “Then,” said the door, “I’ll jar,” so the door jarred.

“Then,” said the window, “Door, why do you jar?” “Oh!” said the door, “Titty’s dead, and Tatty weeps, and the stool hops, and the broom sweeps, and so I jar.”

“Then,” said the window, “I’ll creak,” so the window creaked. Now there was an old form outside the house, and when the window creaked, the form said: “Window, why do you creak?” “Oh!” said the window, “Titty’s dead, and Tatty weeps, and the stool hops, and the broom sweeps, the door jars, and so I creak.”

“Then,” said the old form, “I’ll run round the house;” then the old form ran round the house. Now there was a fine large walnut-tree growing by the cottage, and the tree said to the form: “Form, why do you run round the house?” “Oh!” said the form, “Titty’s dead, and Tatty weeps, and the stool hops, and the broom sweeps, the door jars, and the window creaks, and so I run round the house.”

“Then,” said the walnut-tree, “I’ll shed my leaves,” so the walnut-tree shed all its beautiful green leaves. Now there was a little bird perched on one of the boughs of the tree, and when all the leaves fell, it said: “Walnut-tree, why do you shed your leaves?” “Oh!” said the tree, “Titty’s dead, and Tatty weeps, the stool hops, and the broom sweeps, the door jars, and the window creaks, the old form runs round the house, and so I shed my leaves.”

“Then,” said the little bird, “I’ll moult all my feathers,” so he moulted all his pretty feathers. Now there was a little girl walking below, carrying a jug of milk for her brothers and sisters’ supper, and when she saw the poor little bird moult all its feathers, she said: “Little bird, why do you moult all your feathers?” “Oh!” said the little bird, “Titty’s dead, and Tatty weeps, the stool hops, and the broom sweeps, the door jars, and the window creaks, the old form runs round the house, the walnut-tree sheds its leaves, and so I moult all my feathers.”

“Then,” said the little girl, “I’ll spill the milk,” so she dropt the pitcher and spilt the milk. Now there was an old man just by on the top of a ladder thatching a rick, and when he saw the little girl spill the milk, he said: “Little girl, what do you mean by spilling the milk, your little brothers and sisters must go without their supper.” Then said the little girl: “Titty’s dead, and Tatty weeps, the stool hops, and the broom sweeps, the door jars, and the window creaks, the old form runs round the house, the walnut-tree sheds all its leaves, the little bird moults all its feathers, and so I spill the milk.”

“Oh!” said the old man, “then I’ll tumble off the ladder and break my neck,” so he tumbled off the ladder and broke his neck; and when the old man broke his neck, the great walnut-tree fell down with a crash, and upset the old form and house, and the house falling knocked the window out, and the window knocked the door down, and the door upset the broom, and the broom upset the stool, and poor little Tatty Mouse was buried beneath the ruins.

Categories
FairyTales

The Master And His Pupil

There was once a very learned man in the north-country who knew all the languages under the sun, and who was acquainted with all the mysteries of creation. He had one big book bound in black calf and clasped with iron, and with iron corners, and chained to a table which was made fast to the floor; and when he read out of this book, he unlocked it with an iron key, and none but he read from it, for it contained all the secrets of the spiritual world. It told how many angels there were in heaven, and how they marched in their ranks, and sang in their quires, and what were their several functions, and what was the name of each great angel of might. And it told of the demons, how many of them there were, and what were their several powers, and their labours, and their names, and how they might be summoned, and how tasks might be imposed on them, and how they might be chained to be as slaves to man.

Now the master had a pupil who was but a foolish lad, and he acted as servant to the great master, but never was he suffered to look into the black book, hardly to enter the private room.

One day the master was out, and then the lad, as curious as could be, hurried to the chamber where his master kept his wondrous apparatus for changing copper into gold, and lead into silver, and where was his mirror in which he could see all that was passing in the world, and where was the shell which when held to the ear whispered all the words that were being spoken by anyone the master desired to know about. The lad tried in vain with the crucibles to turn copper and lead into gold and silver—he looked long and vainly into the mirror; smoke and clouds passed over it, but he saw nothing plain, and the shell to his ear produced only indistinct murmurings, like the breaking of distant seas on an unknown shore. “I can do nothing,” he said; “as I don’t know the right words to utter, and they are locked up in yon book.”

He looked round, and, see! the book was unfastened; the master had forgotten to lock it before he went out. The boy rushed to it, and unclosed the volume. It was written with red and black ink, and much of it he could not understand; but he put his finger on a line and spelled it through.

At once the room was darkened, and the house trembled; a clap of thunder rolled through the passage and the old room, and there stood before him a horrible, horrible form, breathing fire, and with eyes like burning lamps. It was the demon Beelzebub, whom he had called up to serve him.

“Set me a task!” said he, with a voice like the roaring of an iron furnace.

The boy only trembled, and his hair stood up.

“Set me a task, or I shall strangle thee!”

But the lad could not speak. Then the evil spirit stepped towards him, and putting forth his hands touched his throat. The fingers burned his flesh. “Set me a task!”

“Water yon flower,” cried the boy in despair, pointing to a geranium which stood in a pot on the floor. Instantly the spirit left the room, but in another instant he returned with a barrel on his back, and poured its contents over the flower; and again and again he went and came, and poured more and more water, till the floor of the room was ankle-deep.

“Enough, enough!” gasped the lad; but the demon heeded him not; the lad didn’t know the words by which to send him away, and still he fetched water.

It rose to the boy’s knees and still more water was poured. It mounted to his waist, and Beelzebub still kept on bringing barrels full. It rose to his armpits, and he scrambled to the table-top. And now the water in the room stood up to the window and washed against the glass, and swirled around his feet on the table. It still rose; it reached his breast. In vain he cried; the evil spirit would not be dismissed, and to this day he would have been pouring water, and would have drowned all Yorkshire. But the master remembered on his journey that he had not locked his book, and therefore returned, and at the moment when the water was bubbling about the pupil’s chin, rushed into the room and spoke the words which cast Beelzebub back into his fiery home.

Categories
FairyTales kids

Jack the Beanstalk

There was once upon a time a poor widow who had an only son named Jack, and a cow named Milky-white. And all they had to live on was the milk the cow gave every morning which they carried to the market and sold. But one morning Milky-white gave no milk and they didn’t know what to do.

“What shall we do, what shall we do?” said the widow, wringing her hands.

“Cheer up, mother, I’ll go and get work somewhere,” said Jack.

“We’ve tried that before, and nobody would take you,” said his mother; “we must sell Milky-white and with the money do something, start shop, or something.”

“All right, mother,” says Jack; “it’s market-day today, and I’ll soon sell Milky-white, and then we’ll see what we can do.”

So he took the cow’s halter in his hand, and off he starts. He hadn’t gone far when he met a funny-looking old man who said to him: “Good morning, Jack.”

“Good morning to you,” said Jack, and wondered how he knew his name.

“Well, Jack, and where are you off to?” said the man.

“I’m going to market to sell our cow here.”

“Oh, you look the proper sort of chap to sell cows,” said the man; “I wonder if you know how many beans make five.”

“Two in each hand and one in your mouth,” says Jack, as sharp as a needle.

“Right you are,” said the man, “and here they are the very beans themselves,” he went on pulling out of his pocket a number of strange-looking beans. “As you are so sharp,” says he, “I don’t mind doing a swop with you—your cow for these beans.”

“Walker!” says Jack; “wouldn’t you like it?”

“Ah! you don’t know what these beans are,” said the man; “if you plant them over-night, by morning they grow right up to the sky.”

“Really?” says Jack; “you don’t say so.”

“Yes, that is so, and if it doesn’t turn out to be true you can have your cow back.”

“Right,” says Jack, and hands him over Milky-white’s halter and pockets the beans.

Back goes Jack home, and as he hadn’t gone very far it wasn’t dusk by the time he got to his door.

“What back, Jack?” said his mother; “I see you haven’t got Milky-white, so you’ve sold her. How much did you get for her?”

“You’ll never guess, mother,” says Jack.

“No, you don’t say so. Good boy! Five pounds, ten, fifteen, no, it can’t be twenty.”

“I told you you couldn’t guess, what do you say to these beans; they’re magical, plant them over-night and——”

“What!” says Jack’s mother, “have you been such a fool, such a dolt, such an idiot, as to give away my Milky-white, the best milker in the parish, and prime beef to boot, for a set of paltry beans. Take that! Take that! Take that! And as for your precious beans here they go out of the window. And now off with you to bed. Not a sup shall you drink, and not a bit shall you swallow this very night.”

So Jack went upstairs to his little room in the attic, and sad and sorry he was, to be sure, as much for his mother’s sake, as for the loss of his supper.

At last he dropped off to sleep.

When he woke up, the room looked so funny. The sun was shining into part of it, and yet all the rest was quite dark and shady. So Jack jumped up and dressed himself and went to the window. And what do you think he saw? why, the beans his mother had thrown out of the window into the garden, had sprung up into a big beanstalk which went up and up and up till it reached the sky. So the man spoke truth after all.

The beanstalk grew up quite close past Jack’s window, so all he had to do was to open it and give a jump on to the beanstalk which was made like a big plaited ladder. So Jack climbed and he climbed and he climbed and he climbed and he climbed and he climbed and he climbed till at last he reached the sky. And when he got there he found a long broad road going as straight as a dart. So he walked along and he walked along and he walked along till he came to a great big tall house, and on the doorstep there was a great big tall woman.

“Good morning, mum,” says Jack, quite polite-like. “Could you be so kind as to give me some breakfast.” For he hadn’t had anything to eat, you know, the night before and was as hungry as a hunter.

“It’s breakfast you want, is it?” says the great big tall woman, “it’s breakfast you’ll be if you don’t move off from here. My man is an ogre and there’s nothing he likes better than boys broiled on toast. You’d better be moving on or he’ll soon be coming.”

“Oh! please mum, do give me something to eat, mum. I’ve had nothing to eat since yesterday morning, really and truly, mum,” says Jack. “I may as well be broiled, as die of hunger.”

Well, the ogre’s wife wasn’t such a bad sort, after all. So she took Jack into the kitchen, and gave him a junk of bread and cheese and a jug of milk. But Jack hadn’t half finished these when thump! thump! thump! the whole house began to tremble with the noise of someone coming.

“Goodness gracious me! It’s my old man,” said the ogre’s wife, “what on earth shall I do? Here, come quick and jump in here.” And she bundled Jack into the oven just as the ogre came in.

He was a big one, to be sure. At his belt he had three calves strung up by the heels, and he unhooked them and threw them down on the table and said: “Here, wife, broil me a couple of these for breakfast. Ah what’s this I smell?

  Fee-fi-fo-fum,
  I smell the blood of an Englishman,
  Be he alive, or be he dead
  I'll have his bones to grind my bread.”

“Nonsense, dear,” said his wife, “you’re dreaming. Or perhaps you smell the scraps of that little boy you liked so much for yesterday’s dinner. Here, go you and have a wash and tidy up, and by the time you come back your breakfast’ll be ready for you.”

So the ogre went off, and Jack was just going to jump out of the oven and run off when the woman told him not. “Wait till he’s asleep,” says she; “he always has a snooze after breakfast.”

Well, the ogre had his breakfast, and after that he goes to a big chest and takes out of it a couple of bags of gold and sits down counting them till at last his head began to nod and he began to snore till the whole house shook again.

Then Jack crept out on tiptoe from his oven, and as he was passing the ogre he took one of the bags of gold under his arm, and off he pelters till he came to the beanstalk, and then he threw down the bag of gold which of course fell in to his mother’s garden, and then he climbed down and climbed down till at last he got home and told his mother and showed her the gold and said: “Well, mother, wasn’t I right about the beans. They are really magical, you see.”

So they lived on the bag of gold for some time, but at last they came to the end of that so Jack made up his mind to try his luck once more up at the top of the beanstalk. So one fine morning he got up early, and got on to the beanstalk, and he climbed and he climbed and he climbed and he climbed and he climbed and he climbed till at last he got on the road again and came to the great big tall house he had been to before. There, sure enough, was the great big tall woman a-standing on the door-step.

“Good morning, mum,” says Jack, as bold as brass, “could you be so good as to give me something to eat?”

“Go away, my boy,” said the big, tall woman, “or else my man will eat you up for breakfast. But aren’t you the youngster who came here once before? Do you know, that very day, my man missed one of his bags of gold.”

“That’s strange, mum,” says Jack, “I dare say I could tell you something about that but I’m so hungry I can’t speak till I’ve had something to eat.”

Well the big tall woman was that curious that she took him in and gave him something to eat. But he had scarcely begun munching it as slowly as he could when thump! thump! thump! they heard the giant’s footstep, and his wife hid Jack away in the oven.

All happened as it did before. In came the ogre as he did before, said: “Fee-fi-fo-fum,” and had his breakfast off three broiled oxen. Then he said: “Wife, bring me the hen that lays the golden eggs.” So she brought it, and the ogre said: “Lay,” and it laid an egg all of gold. And then the ogre began to nod his head, and to snore till the house shook.

Then Jack crept out of the oven on tiptoe and caught hold of the golden hen, and was off before you could say “Jack Robinson.” But this time the hen gave a cackle which woke the ogre, and just as Jack got out of the house he heard him calling: “Wife, wife, what have you done with my golden hen?”

And the wife said: “Why, my dear?”

But that was all Jack heard, for he rushed off to the beanstalk and climbed down like a house on fire. And when he got home he showed his mother the wonderful hen and said “Lay,” to it; and it laid a golden egg every time he said “Lay.”

Well, Jack was not content, and it wasn’t very long before he determined to have another try at his luck up there at the top of the beanstalk. So one fine morning, he got up early, and went on to the beanstalk, and he climbed and he climbed and he climbed and he climbed till he got to the top. But this time he knew better than to go straight to the ogre’s house. And when he got near it he waited behind a bush till he saw the ogre’s wife come out with a pail to get some water, and then he crept into the house and got into the copper. He hadn’t been there long when he heard thump! thump! thump! as before, and in come the ogre and his wife.

“Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman,” cried out the ogre; “I smell him, wife, I smell him.”

“Do you, my dearie?” says the ogre’s wife. “Then if it’s that little rogue that stole your gold and the hen that laid the golden eggs he’s sure to have got into the oven.” And they both rushed to the oven. But Jack wasn’t there, luckily, and the ogre’s wife said: “There you are again with your fee-fi-fo-fum. Why of course it’s the laddie you caught last night that I’ve broiled for your breakfast. How forgetful I am, and how careless you are not to tell the difference between a live un and a dead un.”

So the ogre sat down to the breakfast and ate it, but every now and then he would mutter: “Well, I could have sworn——” and he’d get up and search the larder and the cupboards, and everything, only luckily he didn’t think of the copper.

After breakfast was over, the ogre called out: “Wife, wife, bring me my golden harp.” So she brought it and put it on the table before him. Then he said: “Sing!” and the golden harp sang most beautifully. And it went on singing till the ogre fell asleep, and commenced to snore like thunder.

Then Jack lifted up the copper-lid very quietly and got down like a mouse and crept on hands and knees till he got to the table when he got up and caught hold of the golden harp and dashed with it towards the door. But the harp called out quite loud: “Master! Master!” and the ogre woke up just in time to see Jack running off with his harp.

Jack ran as fast as he could, and the ogre came rushing after, and would soon have caught him only Jack had a start and dodged him a bit and knew where he was going. When he got to the beanstalk the ogre was not more than twenty yards away when suddenly he saw Jack disappear like, and when he got up to the end of the road he saw Jack underneath climbing down for dear life. Well, the ogre didn’t like trusting himself to such a ladder, and he stood and waited, so Jack got another start. But just then the harp cried out: “Master! master!” and the ogre swung himself down on to the beanstalk which shook with his weight. Down climbs Jack, and after him climbed the ogre. By this time Jack had climbed down and climbed down and climbed down till he was very nearly home. So he called out: “Mother! mother! bring me an axe, bring me an axe.” And his mother came rushing out with the axe in her hand, but when she came to the beanstalk she stood stock still with fright for there she saw the ogre just coming down below the clouds.

But Jack jumped down and got hold of the axe and gave a chop at the beanstalk which cut it half in two. The ogre felt the beanstalk shake and quiver so he stopped to see what was the matter. Then Jack gave another chop with the axe, and the beanstalk was cut in two and began to topple over. Then the ogre fell down and broke his crown, and the beanstalk came toppling after.

Then Jack showed his mother his golden harp, and what with showing that and selling the golden eggs, Jack and his mother became very rich, and he married a great princess, and they lived happy ever after.

jackthebeanstalkt

Categories
FairyTales horror

Teeny-Tiny

TEENY-TINY
Once upon a time there was a teeny-tiny woman lived in a teeny-tiny house in a teeny-tiny village. Now, one day this teeny-tiny woman put on her teeny-tiny bonnet, and went out of her teeny-tiny house to take a teeny-tiny walk. And when this teeny-tiny woman had gone a teeny-tiny way she came to a teeny-tiny gate; so the teeny-tiny woman opened the teeny-tiny gate, and went into a teeny-tiny churchyard. And when this teeny-tiny woman had got into the teeny-tiny churchyard, she saw a teeny-tiny bone on a teeny-tiny grave, and the teeny-tiny woman said to her teeny-tiny self, “This teeny-tiny bone will make me some teeny-tiny soup for my teeny-tiny supper.” So the teeny-tiny woman put the teeny-tiny bone into her teeny-tiny pocket, and went home to her teeny-tiny house.

Now when the teeny-tiny woman got home to her teeny-tiny house she was a teeny-tiny bit tired; so she went up her teeny-tiny stairs to her teeny-tiny bed, and put the teeny-tiny bone into a teeny-tiny cupboard. And when this teeny-tiny woman had been to sleep a teeny-tiny time, she was awakened by a teeny-tiny voice from the teeny-tiny cupboard, which said:

“Give me my bone!”

And this teeny-tiny woman was a teeny-tiny frightened, so she hid her teeny-tiny head under the teeny-tiny clothes and went to sleep again. And when she had been to sleep again a teeny-tiny time, the teeny-tiny voice again cried out from the teeny-tiny cupboard a teeny-tiny louder, “Give me my bone!”

This made the teeny-tiny woman a teeny-tiny more frightened, so she hid her teeny-tiny head a teeny-tiny further under the teeny-tiny clothes. And when the teeny-tiny woman had been to sleep again a teeny-tiny time, the teeny-tiny voice from the teeny-tiny cupboard said again a teeny-tiny louder,

“Give me my bone!”

And this teeny-tiny woman was a teeny-tiny bit more frightened, but she put her teeny-tiny head out of the teeny-tiny clothes, and said in her loudest teeny-tiny voice, “TAKE IT!”

Categories
FairyTales

Cap O’ Rushes

Well, there was once a very rich gentleman, and he’d three daughters, and he thought he’d see how fond they were of him. So he says to the first, “How much do you love me, my dear?”

“Why,” says she, “as I love my life.”

“That’s good,” says he.

So he says to the second, “How much do you love me, my dear?”

“Why,” says she, “better nor all the world.”

“That’s good,” says he.

So he says to the third, “How much do you love me, my dear?”

“Why, I love you as fresh meat loves salt,” says she.

Well, he was that angry. “You don’t love me at all,” says he, “and in my house you stay no more.” So he drove her out there and then, and shut the door in her face.

Well, she went away on and on till she came to a fen, and there she gathered a lot of rushes and made them into a kind of a sort of a cloak with a hood, to cover her from head to foot, and to hide her fine clothes. And then she went on and on till she came to a great house.

“Do you want a maid?” says she.

“No, we don’t,” said they.

“I haven’t nowhere to go,” says she; “and I ask no wages, and do any sort of work,” says she.

“Well,” says they, “if you like to wash the pots and scrape the saucepans you may stay,” said they.

So she stayed there and washed the pots and scraped the saucepans and did all the dirty work. And because she gave no name they called her “Cap o’ Rushes.”

Well, one day there was to be a great dance a little way off, and the servants were allowed to go and look on at the grand people. Cap o’ Rushes said she was too tired to go, so she stayed at home.

But when they were gone she offed with her cap o’ rushes, and cleaned herself, and went to the dance. And no one there was so finely dressed as her.

Well, who should be there but her master’s son, and what should he do but fall in love with her the minute he set eyes on her. He wouldn’t dance with any one else.

But before the dance was done Cap o’ Rushes slipt off, and away she went home. And when the other maids came back she was pretending to be asleep with her cap o’ rushes on.

Well, next morning they said to her, “You did miss a sight, Cap o’ Rushes!”

“What was that?” says she.

“Why, the beautifullest lady you ever see, dressed right gay and ga’. The young master, he never took his eyes off her.”

“Well, I should have liked to have seen her,” says Cap o’ Rushes.

“Well, there’s to be another dance this evening, and perhaps she’ll be there.”

But, come the evening, Cap o’ Rushes said she was too tired to go with them. Howsoever, when they were gone, she offed with her cap o’ rushes and cleaned herself, and away she went to the dance.

The master’s son had been reckoning on seeing her, and he danced with no one else, and never took his eyes off her. But, before the dance was over, she slipt off, and home she went, and when the maids came back she, pretended to be asleep with her cap o’ rushes on.

Next day they said to her again, “Well, Cap o’ Rushes, you should ha’ been there to see the lady. There she was again, gay and ga’, and the young master he never took his eyes off her.”

“Well, there,” says she, “I should ha’ liked to ha’ seen her.”

“Well,” says they, “there’s a dance again this evening, and you must go with us, for she’s sure to be there.”

Well, come this evening, Cap o’ Rushes said she was too tired to go, and do what they would she stayed at home. But when they were gone she offed with her cap o’ rushes and cleaned herself, and away she went to the dance.

The master’s son was rarely glad when he saw her. He danced with none but her and never took his eyes off her. When she wouldn’t tell him her name, nor where she came from, he gave her a ring and told her if he didn’t see her again he should die.

Well, before the dance was over, off she slipped, and home she went, and when the maids came home she was pretending to be asleep with her cap o’ rushes on.

Well, next day they says to her, “There, Cap o’ Rushes, you didn’t come last night, and now you won’t see the lady, for there’s no more dances.”

“Well I should have rarely liked to have seen her,” says she.

The master’s son he tried every way to find out where the lady was gone, but go where he might, and ask whom he might, he never heard anything about her. And he got worse and worse for the love of her till he had to keep his bed.

“Make some gruel for the young master,” they said to the cook. “He’s dying for the love of the lady.” The cook she set about making it when Cap o’ Rushes came in.

“What are you a-doing of?”, says she.

“I’m going to make some gruel for the young master,” says the cook, “for he’s dying for love of the lady.”

“Let me make it,” says Cap o’ Rushes.

Well, the cook wouldn’t at first, but at last she said yes, and Cap o’ Rushes made the gruel. And when she had made it she slipped the ring into it on the sly before the cook took it upstairs.

The young man he drank it and then he saw the ring at the bottom.

“Send for the cook,” says he.

So up she comes.

“Who made this gruel here?” says he.

“I did,” says the cook, for she was frightened.

And he looked at her,

“No, you didn’t,” says he. “Say who did it, and you shan’t be harmed.”

“Well, then, ’twas Cap o’ Rushes,” says she.

“Send Cap o’ Rushes here,” says he.

So Cap o’ Rushes came.

“Did you make my gruel?” says he.

“Yes, I did,” says she.

“Where did you get this ring?” says he.

“From him that gave it me,” says she.

“Who are you, then?” says the young man.

“I’ll show you,” says she. And she offed with her cap o’ rushes, and there she was in her beautiful clothes.

Well, the master’s son he got well very soon, and they were to be married in a little time. It was to be a very grand wedding, and every one was asked far and near. And Cap o’ Rushes’ father was asked. But she never told anybody who she was.

But before the wedding she went to the cook, and says she:

“I want you to dress every dish without a mite o’ salt.”

“That’ll be rare nasty,” says the cook.

“That doesn’t signify,” says she.

“Very well,” says the cook.

Well, the wedding-day came, and they were married. And after they were married all the company sat down to the dinner. When they began to eat the meat, that was so tasteless they couldn’t eat it. But Cap o’ Rushes’ father he tried first one dish and then another, and then he burst out crying.

“What is the matter?” said the master’s son to him.

“Oh!” says he, “I had a daughter. And I asked her how much she loved me. And she said ‘As much as fresh meat loves salt.’ And I turned her from my door, for I thought she didn’t love me. And now I see she loved me best of all. And she may be dead for aught I know.”

“No, father, here she is!” says Cap o’ Rushes. And she goes up to him and puts her arms round him.

And so they were happy ever after.

 

Categories
FairyTales

Mouse and Mouser

The Mouse went to visit the Cat, and found her sitting behind the hall door, spinning.

MOUSE. What are you doing, my lady, my lady, What are you doing, my lady?

CAT (sharply). I’m spinning old breeches, good body, good body I’m spinning old breeches, good body.

MOUSE. Long may you wear them, my lady, my lady, Long may you wear them, my lady.

CAT (gruffly). I’ll wear’ em and tear ’em, good body, good body. I’ll wear ’em and tear ’em, good body.

MOUSE. I was sweeping my room, my lady, my lady, I was sweeping my room, my lady.

CAT. The cleaner you’d be, good body, good body, The cleaner you’d be, good body.

MOUSE. I found a silver sixpence, my lady, my lady, I found a silver sixpence, my lady.

CAT. The richer you were, good body, good body, The richer you were, good body.

MOUSE. I went to the market, my lady, my lady, I went to the market, my lady.

CAT. The further you went, good body, good body The further you went, good body.

MOUSE. I bought me a pudding, my lady, my lady, I bought me a pudding, my lady.

CAT (snarling). The more meat you had, good body, good body, The more meat you had, good body.

MOUSE. I put it in the window to cool, my lady, I put it in the window to cool.

CAT. (sharply). The faster you’d eat it, good body, good body, The faster you’d eat it, good body.

MOUSE (timidly). The cat came and ate it, my lady, my lady, The cat came and ate it, my lady.

CAT (pouncingly). And I’ll eat you, good body, good body, And I’ll eat you, good body.

(Springs upon the mouse and kills it.)

Categories
adult FairyTales horror

Binnorie

Once upon a time there were two king’s daughters lived in a bower near the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie. And Sir William came wooing the eldest and won her love and plighted troth with glove and with ring. But after a time he looked upon the youngest, with her cherry cheeks and golden hair, and his love grew towards her till he cared no longer for the eldest one. So she hated her sister for taking away Sir William’s love, and day by day her hate grew upon her, and she plotted and she planned how to get rid of her.

So one fine morning, fair and clear, she said to her sister, “Let us go and see our father’s boats come in at the bonny mill-stream of Binnorie.” So they went there hand in hand. And when they got to the river’s bank the youngest got upon a stone to watch for the coming of the boats. And her sister, coming behind her, caught her round the waist and dashed her into the rushing mill-stream of Binnorie.

“O sister, sister, reach me your hand!” she cried, as she floated away, “and you shall have half of all I’ve got or shall get.”

“No, sister, I’ll reach you no hand of mine, for I am the heir to all your land. Shame on me if I touch the hand that has come ‘twixt me and my own heart’s love.”

“O sister, O sister, then reach me your glove!” she cried, as she floated further away, “and you shall have your William again.”

“Sink on,” cried the cruel princess, “no hand or glove of mine you’ll touch. Sweet William will be all mine when you are sunk beneath the bonny mill-stream of Binnorie.” And she turned and went home to the king’s castle.

And the princess floated down the mill-stream, sometimes swimming and sometimes sinking, till she came near the mill. Now the miller’s daughter was cooking that day, and needed water for her cooking. And as she went to draw it from the stream, she saw something floating towards the mill-dam, and she called out, “Father! father! draw your dam. There’s something white—a merry maid or a milk-white swan—coming down the stream.” So the miller hastened to the dam and stopped the heavy cruel mill-wheels. And then they took out the princess and laid her on the bank.

Fair and beautiful she looked as she lay there. In her golden hair were pearls and precious stones; you could not see her waist for her golden girdle; and the golden fringe of her white dress came down over her lily feet. But she was drowned, drowned!

And as she lay there in her beauty a famous harper passed by the mill-dam of Binnorie, and saw her sweet pale face. And though he travelled on far away he never forgot that face, and after many days he came back to the bonny mill-stream of Binnorie. But then all he could find of her where they had put her to rest were her bones and her golden hair. So he made a harp out of her breast-bone and her hair, and travelled on up the hill from the mill-dam of Binnorie, till he came to the castle of the king her father.

That night they were all gathered in the castle hall to hear the great harper—king and queen, their daughter and son, Sir William and all their Court. And first the harper sang to his old harp, making them joy and be glad or sorrow and weep just as he liked. But while he sang he put the harp he had made that day on a stone in the hall. And presently it began to sing by itself, low and clear, and the harper stopped and all were hushed.

And this was what the harp sung:

“O yonder sits my father, the king,
Binnorie, O Binnorie;
And yonder sits my mother, the queen;
By the bonny mill-dams o’ Binnorie,

“And yonder stands my brother Hugh,
Binnorie, O Binnorie;
And by him, my William, false and true;
By the bonny mill-dams o’ Binnorie.”

Then they all wondered, and the harper told them how he had seen the princess lying drowned on the bank near the bonny mill-dams o’ Binnorie, and how he had afterwards made this harp out of her hair and breast-bone. Just then the harp began singing again, and this was what it sang out loud and clear:

“And there sits my sister who drownèd me
By the bonny mill-dams o’ Binnorie.”

And the harp snapped and broke, and never sang more.

Categories
FairyTales kids

Jack Hannaford

There was an old soldier who had been long in the wars—so long, that he was quite out-at-elbows, and he did not know where to go to find a living. So he walked up moors, down glens, till at last he came to a farm, from which the good man had gone away to market. The wife of the farmer was a very foolish woman, who had been a widow when he married her; the farmer was foolish enough, too, and it is hard to say which of the two was the more foolish. When you’ve heard my tale you may decide.

Now before the farmer goes to market says he to his wife: “Here is ten pounds all in gold, take care of it till I come home.” If the man had not been a fool he would never have given the money to his wife to keep. Well, off he went in his cart to market, and the wife said to herself: “I will keep the ten pounds quite safe from thieves;” so she tied it up in a rag, and she put the rag up the parlour chimney.

“There,” said she, “no thieves will ever find it now, that is quite sure.”

Jack Hannaford, the old soldier, came and rapped at the door.

“Who is there?” asked the wife.

“Jack Hannaford.”

“Where do you come from?”

“Paradise.”

“Lord a’ mercy! and maybe you’ve seen my old man there,” alluding to her former husband.

“Yes, I have.”

“And how was he a-doing?” asked the goody.

“But middling; he cobbles old shoes, and he has nothing but cabbage for victuals.”

“Deary me!” exclaimed the woman. “Didn’t he send a message to me?”

“Yes, he did,” replied Jack Hannaford. “He said that he was out of leather, and his pockets were empty, so you were to send him a few shillings to buy a fresh stock of leather.”

“He shall have them, bless his poor soul!” And away went the wife to the parlour chimney, and she pulled the rag with the ten pounds in it from the chimney, and she gave the whole sum to the soldier, telling him that her old man was to use as much as he wanted, and to send back the rest.

It was not long that Jack waited after receiving the money; he went off as fast as he could walk.

Presently the farmer came home and asked for his money. The wife told him that she had sent it by a soldier to her former husband in Paradise, to buy him leather for cobbling the shoes of the saints and angels of Heaven. The farmer was very angry, and he swore that he had never met with such a fool as his wife. But the wife said that her husband was a greater fool for letting her have the money.

There was no time to waste words; so the farmer mounted his horse and rode off after Jack Hannaford. The old soldier heard the horse’s hoofs clattering on the road behind him, so he knew it must be the farmer pursuing him. He lay down on the ground, and shading his eyes with one hand, looked up into the sky, and pointed heavenwards with the other hand.

“What are you about there?” asked the farmer, pulling up.

“Lord save you!” exclaimed Jack: “I’ve seen a rare sight.”

“What was that?”

“A man going straight up into the sky, as if he were walking on a road.”

“Can you see him still?”

“Yes, I can.”

“Where?”

“Get off your horse and lie down.”

“If you will hold the horse.”

Jack did so readily.

“I cannot see him,” said the farmer.

“Shade your eyes with your hand, and you’ll soon see a man flying away from you.”

Sure enough he did so, for Jack leaped on the horse, and rode away with it. The farmer walked home without his horse.

“You are a bigger fool than I am,” said the wife; “for I did only one foolish thing, and you have done two.”