The Project Gutenberg EBook of Edmund Dulac’s Fairy-Book, by Edmund Dulac This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: Edmund Dulac’s Fairy-Book Fairy Tales of the Allied Nations Author: Edmund Dulac Release Date: May 18, 2008 [EBook #25513] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EDMUND DULAC’S FAIRY-BOOK *** Produced by David Edwards, Josephine Paolucci and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive.) EDMUND DULAC'S FAIRY-BOOK SNEGOROTCHKA SNEGOROTCHKA The daintiest, prettiest little maiden they had ever seen. See page 2 EDMUND DULAC'S FAIRY-BOOK FAIRY TALES OF THE ALLIED NATIONS NEW YORK GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY EDMUND DULAC'S FAIRY-BOOK —HC— PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA CONTENTS SNEGOROTCHKA: A Russian Fairy Tale THE BURIED MOON: An English Fairy Tale WHITE CAROLINE AND BLACK CAROLINE: A Flemish Fairy Tale THE SEVEN CONQUERORS OF THE QUEEN OF THE MISSISSIPPI: A Belgian Fairy Tale THE SERPENT PRINCE: An Italian Fairy Tale THE HIND OF THE WOOD: A French Fairy Tale IVAN AND THE CHESTNUT HORSE: A Russian Fairy Tale THE QUEEN OF THE MANY-COLOURED BEDCHAMBER: An Irish Fairy Tale THE BLUE BIRD: A French Fairy Tale BASHTCHELIK (OR, REAL STEEL): A Serbian Fairy Tale THE FRIAR AND THE BOY: An English Fairy Tale THE GREEN SERPENT: A French Fairy Tale URASHIMA TARO: A Japanese Fairy Tale THE FIRE BIRD: A Russian Fairy Tale THE STORY OF THE BIRD FENG: A Chinese Fairy Tale ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE 1 7 15 23 31 45 63 73 81 95 119 129 145 159 171 SNEGOROTCHKA A RUSSIAN FAIRY TALE The daintiest, prettiest little maiden they had ever seen THE BURIED MOON AN ENGLISH FAIRY TALE In her frantic struggles the hood of her cloak fell back from her dazzling golden hair, and immediately the whole place was flooded with light WHITE CAROLINE AND BLACK CAROLINE A FLEMISH FAIRY TALE And, when he saw White Caroline, he started to play on his organ the most beautiful airs that it was possible to hear, and the three little dogs commenced to dance together THE SEVEN CONQUERORS OF THE QUEEN OF THE MISSISSIPPI A BELGIAN FAIRY TALE 'Hi! friend! Take the whole castle, with the Queen and all that it contains, on your shoulders!' THE SERPENT PRINCE AN ITALIAN FAIRY TALE When Grannmia saw her strange lover, she alone remained calm and courageous THE HIND OF THE WOOD A FRENCH FAIRY TALE Giroflée thanked the fairy and went ... far into the wood; and there, sure enough, she saw a hut and an old woman sitting outside IVAN AND THE CHESTNUT HORSE A RUSSIAN FAIRY TALE The chestnut horse seemed to linger in the air at the top of its leap while that kiss endured THE BLUE BIRD A FRENCH FAIRY TALE The Prince took a carriage drawn by three great frogs with great big wings.... Truitonne came out mysteriously by a little door BASHTCHELIK (OR, REAL STEEL) A SERBIAN FAIRY TALE The Prince, looking out, saw him snatch up the Princess ... and soar rapidly away The Palace of the Dragon King THE FRIAR AND THE BOY AN ENGLISH FAIRY TALE The Friar, bound fast to the post, squirmed and wriggled, showing plainly that he would foot it if he could Frontispiece PAGE 8 16 24 32 56 64 88 104 112 128 THE GREEN SERPENT A FRENCH FAIRY TALE Laideronnette kissed and embraced the good Fairy Protectress URASHIMA TARO A JAPANESE FAIRY TALE Urashima was so enchanted that he could not speak a word THE FIRE BIRD A RUSSIAN FAIRY TALE There he found the Princess asleep, and saw that her face was the face he had seen in the portrait With a scream the Princess rushed forward, and, before her wicked sister could prevent her, she had upset the cauldron with a crash THE STORY OF THE BIRD FENG A CHINESE FAIRY TALE The wonderful bird, like a fire of many colours come down from heaven, alighted before the Princess, dropping at her feet the portrait SNEGOROTCHKA A RUSSIAN FAIRY TALE The old wife sang merrily as she sat in the inglenook stirring the soup, for she had never felt so sad. Many, many years had come and gone, leaving the weight of their winters on her shoulders and the touch of snow on her hair without ever bringing her a little child. This made her and her dear old husband very sad, for there were many children outside, playing in the snow. It seemed hard that not even one among them was their very own. But alas! there was no hope for such a blessing now. Never would they see a little fur cap hanging on the corner of the mantelpiece, nor two little shoes drying by the fire. The old husband brought in a bundle of wood and set it down. Then, as he heard the children laughing and clapping their hands outside, he looked out at the window. There they were, dancing with glee round a snow man they had made. He smiled as he saw that it was evidently meant to look like the Mayor of the village, it was so fat and pompous. 'Look, Marusha!' he cried to the old wife. 'Come and see the snow man they've made.' As they stood together at the window, they laughed to see what fun the children got out of it. Suddenly the old man turned to her with a bright idea. 'Let's go out and see if we can't make a little snow man.' But Marusha laughed at him. 'What would the neighbours say? They would poke fun at us; it'd be the joke of the village. Besides, we're too old to play like children.' 'But only a little one, Marusha; only a teeny-weeny little snow man,—and I'll manage it that nobody sees us.' 'Well, well,' she said, laughing; 'have your own way, as you always did, Youshko.' With this she took the pot from the fire, put on her bonnet, and they went out together. As they passed the children, they stopped to play with them a while, for they now felt almost like children themselves. Then they trudged on through 144 152 160 168 172 [Pg 1] [Pg 2] the snow till they came to a clump of trees, and, behind this, where the snow was nice and white, and nobody could see them, they set to work to make their little man. The old husband insisted that it must be very small, and the old wife agreed that it should be almost as small as a new- born babe. Kneeling down in the snow, they fashioned the little body in next to no time. Now there remained only the head to finish. Two fat handfuls of snow for the cheeks and face, and a big one on top for the head. Then they put on a wee dab for the nose and poked two holes, one on each side, for the eyes. It was soon done, and they were already standing back looking at it, and laughing and clapping their hands like children. Then suddenly they stopped. What had happened? A very strange thing indeed! Out of the two holes they saw looking at them two wistful blue eyes. Then the face of the little snow man was no longer white. The cheeks became rounded and smooth and radiant, and two rosy lips began to smile up at them. A breath of wind brushed the snow from the head, and it all fell down round the shoulders in flaxen ringlets escaping from a white fur cap. At the same time some snow, loosened from the little body, fell down and took the shape of a pretty white garment. Then, suddenly, before they could open and shut their mouths, their snow mannikin was gone, and in his place stood the daintiest, prettiest little maiden they had ever seen. They gave each other a look out of the corners of their eyes, and scratched their heads in wonderment. But it was as true as true. There stood the little girl, all pink and white before them. She was really alive, for she ran to them; and, when they stooped down to lift her up, she put one arm round the old wife's neck and the other round the old man's, and gave them each a hug and a kiss. They laughed and cried for joy; then, suddenly remembering how real some dreams can seem, they pinched each other in turn. Still they were not sure, for the pinches might have been a part of the dream. So, in fear lest they might wake and spoil the whole thing, they wrapped the little girl up quickly and hastened back home. On the way they met the children, still playing round their snow man; and the snowballs with which they pelted them in the back were very real; but there again, the snowballs might have belonged to the dream. But when they were inside the house, and saw the inglenook, with the soup in the pot by the fire and the bundle of wood near by, and everything just as they had left it, they looked at each other with tears in their eyes and no longer feared that it was all a dream. In another minute there was a little white fur cap hanging on the corner of the mantelpiece and two little shoes drying by the fire, while the old wife took the little girl on her lap and crooned a lullaby over her. The old man put his hand on his wife's shoulder and she looked up. 'Marusha!' 'Youshko!' 'At last we have a little girl! We made her out of the snow, so we will call her Snegorotchka.' The old wife nodded her head, and then they kissed each other. When they had all had supper, they went to bed, the old husband and wife feeling sure that they would wake early in the morning to find the child still with them. And they were not disappointed. There she was, sitting up between them, prattling and laughing. But she had grown bigger, and her hair was now twice as long as at first. When she called them 'Little Father' and 'Little Mother' they were so delighted that they felt like dancing as nimbly as they had in their young days. But, instead of dancing, they just kissed each other, and wept for joy. That day they held a big feast. The old wife was busy all the morning cooking all kinds of dainties, while the old man went round the village and collected the fiddlers. All the boys and girls of the village were invited, and they ate and sang and danced and had a merry time till daybreak. As they went home, the girls all talked at once about how much they had enjoyed themselves, but the boys were very silent;—they were thinking of the beautiful Snegorotchka with the blue eyes and the golden hair. Every day after that Snegorotchka played with the other children, and taught them how to make castles and palaces of snow, with marble halls and thrones and beautiful fountains. The snow seemed to let her do whatever she liked with it, and to build itself up under her tiny fingers as if it knew exactly what shape it was to take. They were all greatly delighted with the wonderful things she made; but when she showed them how to dance as the snowflakes do, first in a brisk whirl, and then softly and lightly, they could think of nothing else but Snegorotchka. She was the little fairy queen of the children, the delight of the older people, and the very breath of life to old Marusha and Youshko. And now the winter months moved on. With slow and steady stride they went from mountain top to mountain top, around the circle of the sky-line. The earth began to clothe itself in green. The great trees, holding out their naked arms like huge babies waiting to be dressed, were getting greener and greener, and last year's birds sat in their branches singing this year's songs. The early flowers shed their perfume on the breeze, and now and then a waft of warm air, straying from its summer haunts, caressed the cheek and breathed a glowing promise in the ear. The forests and the fields were stirring. A beautiful spirit brooded over the face of nature;—spring was trembling on the leash and tugging to be free. One afternoon Marusha was sitting in the inglenook stirring the soup and singing a mournful song, because she had never felt so full of joy. The old man Youshko had just brought in a bundle of wood and laid it on the hearth. It seemed [Pg 3] [Pg 4] [Pg 5] just the same as on that winter's afternoon when they saw the children dancing round their snow man; but what made all the difference was Snegorotchka, the apple of their eye, who now sat by the window, gazing out at the green grass and the budding trees. Youshko had been looking at her; he had noticed that her face was pale and her eyes a shade less blue than usual. He grew anxious about her. 'Are you not feeling well, Snegorotchka?' he asked. 'No, Little Father,' she replied sadly. 'I miss the white snow,—oh! so much; the green grass is not half as beautiful. I wish the snow would come again.' 'Oh! yes; the snow will come again,' replied the old man. 'But don't you like the leaves on the trees and the blossoms and the flowers, my darling?' 'They are not so beautiful as the pure, white snow.' And Snegorotchka shuddered. The next day she looked so pale and sad that they were alarmed, and glanced at one another anxiously. 'What ails the child?' said Marusha. Youshko shook his head and looked from Snegorotchka to the fire, and then back again. 'My child,' he said at last, 'why don't you go out and play with the others? They are all enjoying themselves among the flowers in the forest; but I've noticed you never play with them now. Why is it, my darling?' 'I don't know, Little Father, but my heart seems to turn to water when the soft warm wind brings the scent of the blossoms.' 'But we will come with you, my child,' said the old man. 'I will put my arm about you and shield you from the wind. Come, we will show you all the pretty flowers in the grass, and tell you their names, and you will just love them,—all of them.' So Marusha took the pot off the fire and then they all went out together, Youshko with his arm round Snegorotchka to shield her from the wind. But they had not gone far when the warm perfume of the flowers was wafted to them on the breeze, and the child trembled like a leaf. They both comforted her and kissed her, and then they went on towards the spot where the flowers grew thickly in the grass. But, as they passed a clump of big trees, a bright ray of sunlight struck through like a dart and Snegorotchka put her hand over her eyes and gave a cry of pain. They stood still and looked at her. For a moment, as she drooped upon the old man's arm, her eyes met theirs; and on her upturned face were swiftly running tears which sparkled in the sunlight as they fell. Then, as they watched her, she grew smaller and smaller, until, at last, all that was left of Snegorotchka was a little patch of dew shining on the grass. One tear-drop had fallen into the cup of a flower. Youshko gathered that flower—very gently—and handed it to Marusha without a word. They both understood now. Their darling was just a little girl made of snow, and she had melted away in the warmth of the sunlight. THE BURIED MOON AN ENGLISH FAIRY TALE In my old Granny's days, long, long—oh, so long ago, Carland was just a collection of bogs. Pools of black water lay in the hollows, and little green rivulets scurried away here and there like long lizards trying to escape from their tails, while every tuft that you trod upon would squirt up at you like anything. Oh! it was a nice place to be in on a dark night, I give you my word. Now, I've heard my Granny say that a long time before her day the Moon got trapped and buried in the bog. I'll tell you the tale as she used to tell it to me. On some nights the beautiful Moon rose up in the sky and shone brighter and brighter, and the people blessed her because by her wonderful light they could find their way home at night through the treacherous bogs. But on other nights she did not come, and then it was so dark that the traveller could not find his way; and, besides, the Evil Things that [Pg 6] [Pg 7] feared the light—toads and creepy, crawly things, to say nothing of Bogles and Little Bad People—came out in the darkness to do all the harm they could, for they hated the people and were always trying to lead them astray. Many a poor man going home in the dark had been enticed by these malevolent things into quicksands and mud pools. When the Moon was away and the night was black, these vile creatures had their will. When the Moon learned about this, she was very grieved, for she is a sweet, kind body, who spends nights without sleep, so as to show a light for people going home. She was troubled about it all, and said to herself, 'I'll just go down and see how matters stand.' So, when the dark end of the month came round, she stepped down out of the sky, wrapped from head to foot in her black travelling cloak with the hood drawn over her bright golden hair. For a moment she stood at the edge of the marshes, looking this way and that. Everywhere, as far as she could see, was the dismal bog, with pools of black water, and gnarled, fantastic-looking snags sticking up here and there amid the dank growth of weeds and grasses. There was no light save the feeble glimmer of the stars reflected in the gloomy pools; but, upon the grass where she stood, a bright ring of moonlight shone from her feet beneath her cloak. She saw this and drew her garments closer about her. It was cold, and she was trembling. She feared that vast expanse of bog and its evil creatures, but she was determined to face the matter out and see exactly how the thing stood. Guided by the light that streamed from her feet, she advanced into the bog. As the summer wind stirs one tussock after another, so she stepped onward between the slimy ponds and deadly quagmires. Now she reached a jet-black pool, and all too late she saw the stars shining in its depths. Her foot tripped and all she could do was to snatch at an overhanging branch of a snag as she fell forward. To this she clung, but, fast as she gripped it, faster still some tendrils from the bough whipped round her wrists like manacles and held her there a prisoner. She struggled and wrenched and tugged with all her might and main, but the tendrils only tightened and cut into her wrists like steel bands. THE BURIED MOON THE BURIED MOON In her frantic struggles the hood of her cloak fell back from her dazzling golden hair, and immediately the whole place was flooded with light. See page 9 As she stood there shivering in the dark and wondering how to free herself, she heard far away in the bog a voice calling through the night. It was a wailing cry, dying away in despair. She listened and listened, and the repeated cry came nearer; then she heard footsteps—halting, stumbling and slipping. At last, by the dim light of the stars, she saw a haggard, despairing face with fearful eyes; and then she knew it was a poor man who had lost his way and was floundering on to his death. Now he caught sight of a gleam of light from the captive Moon, and made his uncertain way towards it, thinking it meant help. As he came nearer and nearer the pool, the Moon saw that her light was luring him to his death, and she felt so very sorry for him, and so angry with herself that she struggled fiercely at the cords that held her. It was all in vain, but, in her frantic struggles, the hood of her cloak fell back from her dazzling golden hair, and immediately the whole place was flooded with light, which fell on muddy pools and quicks and quags, glinting on the twisted roots and making the whole place as clear as day. [Pg 8] [Pg 9] How glad the wayfarer was to see the light! How pleased he was to see all the Evil Things of the dark scurrying back into their holes! He could now find his way, and he made for the edge of the treacherous marsh with such haste that he had not time to wonder at the strange thing that had happened. He did not know that the blessed light that showed him his path to safety shone from the radiant hair of the Moon, bound fast to a snag and half buried in the bog. And the Moon herself was so glad he was safe, that she forgot her own danger and need. But, as she watched him making good his escape from the terrible dangers of the marshes, she was overcome by a great longing to follow him. This made her tug and strain again like a demented creature, until she sank exhausted, but not free, in the mud at the foot of the snag. As she did so, her head fell forward on her breast, and the hood of her cloak again covered her shining hair. At that moment, just as suddenly as the light had shone out before, the darkness came down with a swish, and all the vile things that loved it came out of their hiding-places with a kind of whispering screech which grew louder and louder as they swarmed abroad on the marshes. Now they gathered round the poor Moon, snarling and scratching at her and screaming hateful mockeries at her. At last they had her in their power—their old foe whose light they could not endure; the Bright One whose smile of light sent them scurrying away into their crevices and defeated their fell designs. 'Hell roast thee!' cried an ugly old witch-thing; 'thou'rt the meddlesome body that spoils all our brews.' 'Out on thee!' shrieked the bogle-bodies; 'if 'twere not for thee we'd have the marsh to ourselves.' And there was a great clamour—as out-of-tune as out-of-tune could be. All the things of darkness raised their harsh and cracked voices against the Bright One of the sky. 'Ha, ha!' and 'Ho, ho!' and 'He, he!' mingled with chuckles of fiendish glee, until it seemed as if the very trickles and gurgles of the bog were joining in the orgy of hate. 'Burn her with corpse-lights!' yelled the witch. 'Ha, ha! He, he!' came the chorus of evil creatures. 'Truss her up and stifle her!' screamed the creeping things. 'Spin webs round her!' And the spiders of the night swarmed all over her. 'Sting her to death!' said the Scorpion King at the head of his brood. 'Ho, ho! He, he!' And, as each vile thing had something to say about it, a horrible, screeching dispute arose, while the captive Moon crouched shuddering at the foot of the snag and gave herself up as lost. The dim grey light of the early dawn found them still hissing and clawing and screeching at one another as to the best way to dispose of the captive. Then, when the first rosy ray shot up from the Sun, they grew afraid. Some scuttled away, but those who remained hastened to do something—anything that would smother the light of the Moon. The only thing they could think of now was to bury her in the mud,—bury her deep. They were all agreed on this as the quickest way. So they clutched her with skinny fingers and pushed her down into the black mud beneath the water at the foot of the snag. When they had all stamped upon her, the bogle-bodies ran quickly and fetched a big black stone which they hurled on top of her to keep her down. Then the old witch called two will-o'-the-wisps from the darkest part of the marshes, and, when they came dancing and glancing above the pools and quicks, she bade them keep watch by the grave of the Moon, and, if she tried to get out, to sound an alarm. Then the horrid things crept away from the morning light, chuckling to themselves over the funeral of the Moon, and only wishing they could bury the Sun in the same way; but that was a little too much to hope for, and besides, all respectable Horrors of the Bog ought to be asleep in bed during the Sun's journey across the sky. The poor Moon was now buried deep in the black mud, with a heavy stone on top of her. Surely she could never again thwart their plans of evil, hatched and nurtured in the foul darkness of the quags. She was buried deep; they had left no sign; who would know where to look for her? Day after day passed by until the time of the New Moon was eagerly looked for by the good folk who dwelt around the marshes, for they knew they had no friend like the Moon, whose light enabled them to find the pathways through the bog-land, and drove away all the vile things into their dark holes and corners. So they put lucky pennies in their pouches and straws in their hats, and searched for the crescent Moon in the sky. But evening twilight brought no Moon, which was not strange, for she was buried deep in the bog. The nights were pitch dark, and the Horrors held frolic in the marshes and swarmed abroad in ever-increasing numbers, so that no traveller was safe. The poor people were so frightened and dumbfounded at being forsaken by the friendly Moon, that some of them went to the old Wise Woman of the Mill and besought her to find out what was the matter. The Wise Woman gazed long into her magic mirror, and then made a brew of herbs, into which she looked just as long, muttering words that nobody but herself could understand. 'It's very strange,' she said at last; 'but there's nought to say what has become of her. I'll look again later on; meantime if ye do learn anything, let me know.' So they went away more mystified than ever, and, as the following nights brought no Moon, they could do nothing but [Pg 10] [Pg 11] [Pg 12] stand about in groups in the streets discussing the strange thing. The disappearance of the Moon was the one topic. By the fireside, at the work-bench, in the inn and all about, their tongues went nineteen to the dozen; and no wonder, for who had ever heard of the Moon being lost, stolen or strayed? But it chanced one day that a man from the other side of the marshes was sitting in the inn, smoking his pipe and listening to the talk of the other inmates, when all of a sudden he sat bolt upright, slapped his thigh and cried out, 'I' fegs! Now I mind where that there Moon be!' Then he told them how one night he had got lost in the marshes and was frightened to death; how he went blundering on in the dark with all the Evil Things after him, and, at last, how a great bright light burst out of a pool and showed him the way to go. When they heard this they all took the shortest cut to the Wise Woman, and told her the man's story. After a long look in the mirror and the pot, she wagged her head slowly and said, 'It's all dark, children. You see, being as there's no Moon to conjure by, I can't tell ye where she's gone or what's made off with her—which same I could tell ye fine if she was in her right place. But mebbe, if ye do what I'm going to tell ye, then ye may hap on her yourselves. Listen now! Just before the darklings come, each of ye take a stone in your mouth and a twig of the witch-hazel in your hands, and go into the marshes without fear. Speak no word, for fear of your lives, but keep straight on till ye come to a spot where ye'll see a coffin with a cross and a candle on it. That's where ye'll find your Moon, I'm thinking, if ye're lucky. So the next night as the dark began to fall they all trooped out into the marshes, each with a stone in his mouth and a twig of the witch-hazel in his hands. Never a word they spoke, but kept straight on; and, I'm telling you, there was not one among them but had the creeps and the starts. They could see nothing around them but bogs and pools and snags; but strange sighing whispers brushed past their ears, and cold wet hands sought theirs and tugged at the hazel twigs. But all at once, while looking everywhere for the coffin with the cross and the candle, they espied the big, strange stone, and it looked just like a coffin; while at the head of it was a black cross formed by the branches of the snag, and on this cross flickered a tiny light just like a candle. When they saw these things they all knew that what the Wise Woman had told them was true: they were not far from their beloved Moon. But, being mighty feared of Bogles and the other Evil Things, they all went down on their knees in the mud and said the Lord's Prayer, once forwards, in keeping with the cross, and once backwards to keep off the Horrors of the Darkness. All this they said in their minds, without saying a word aloud, for they well knew what would happen to them if they neglected the Wise Woman's advice. Then they rose up and laid hands on the great stone and heaved it up. And my Granny says, that as they did it, some of them saw, just for one tiddy-widdy little waste of a minute, the most beautiful face in the world gazing up at them with wistful eyes like—like—I really can't remember how my Granny described them, but it was either 'pools of gratitude' or 'lakes of love.' At all events, this is exactly what happened when the stone was rolled right over, and it was said so quickly that not one of them could describe it afterwards: 'Thanks, brave folk! I shall never forget your kindness,' as the Moon stepped up out of the black pool into her place in the sky. Then they were all astonished beyond words, for, suddenly, all around was the silver light, making the safe ways between the bogs as clear as day. There was a sudden rush of weird things to their lairs, and then all was still and bright. Looking up, they saw with delight the full Moon sailing in the sky and smiling down upon them. She was there to light them home again. She was there to stampede the Evil Things—the Bogles and the Bad Little People—back into their vile dens. And, as the people looked around and wondered, it almost seemed to them that this time she had killed the Horrors dead—never to come to life again. WHITE CAROLINE AND BLACK CAROLINE A FLEMISH FAIRY TALE Come, come, Caroline, White, white, child o' mine! I hate you, hate you, And, at any rate, you Are no child o' mine! Come, come, Caroline, [Pg 13] [Pg 14] [Pg 15] Black, black, child o' mine! I bore you, adore you, Will give whatever more you Want, O child o' mine! Once upon a time there was a mother who had two daughters, both named Caroline. People called one 'White Caroline,' because she was so beautiful. But her mother could not see it, because the child was not really her own. The other was called 'Black Caroline' by the people, because she was so ugly. Black Caroline was the favourite of her mother, and received everything she could desire. Now one day it so happened that an old shepherd was passing by, and with him he had three little lambs; and he smiled on seeing White Caroline, and he caressed her head, and the little lambs came close and rubbed themselves against her little white dress. White Caroline was exceedingly pleased with all this. Now Black Caroline, standing on the winding stairs, also wanted to see; and, coming to the door, she half opened it. But as soon as the old shepherd saw her face, he turned and started on his way, and the three little lambs bleated and beat their heads together, because Black Caroline was so ugly;—but she was good all the same! And their mother, in her heart, could not stand this, so she said: 'White Caroline must die, cost what it will!' And so she thought and thought during seven days how she could get rid of White Caroline. Then, one day, she went behind a hedge and said: 'Hedge, Thorn-hedge, give me a dozen deadly thorns, each one an inch long!' And the hedge gave her a dozen deadly thorns, each thorn an inch long. Then their mother returned home, and showed them to Black Caroline. 'Pay attention, Black Caroline,' she said; 'this evening when you go to bed you must sleep at the edge, and the inside place must be for White Caroline; because I am going to conceal all the little thorns in her pillow; and she will die when she puts her head upon her pillow, and then you, alone, shall be more than ever the pet child of your mother!' And Black Caroline said, 'Very well!' But that evening, when White Caroline was about to get into bed, Black Caroline took her by the arm and said: 'White Caroline, I love you very much; and you must not tell mother; but she is trying to kill you. There are a dozen deadly thorns in your pillow; go to sleep all the same, but we'll put our heads at the foot of the bed!' And White Caroline, full of joy, took Black Caroline in her little arms and they slept together!' The following morning they heard a rat-a-tat on the stairs. 'Here! Black Caroline! Are you there?' It was their mother calling from the bottom of the stairs. 'Yes, my dear little mother, I am here!' said White Caroline. Their mother was in a terrible rage because White Caroline was not dead. She at once mounted the stairs to see if Black Caroline was alive. But even then she could not understand how it was that White Caroline was not dead, and once again rage overcame her! [Pg 16] WHITE CAROLINE AND BLACK CAROLINE WHITE CAROLINE AND BLACK CAROLINE And, when he saw White Caroline, he started to play on his organ the most beautiful airs that it was possible to hear, and the three little dogs commenced to dance together. See page 17 Now it happened that one day a musician was passing by their house: and he had with him three little dogs; and, when he saw White Caroline, he started to play on his organ the most beautiful airs that it was possible to hear, and the three little dogs commenced to dance together. White Caroline was exceedingly pleased! But Black Caroline, who was on the winding stairs, came down and half opened the door because she wanted to see also. But, as soon as the musician saw the face of Black Caroline, he ceased to play, and the three little dogs hid their heads under a sack because Black Caroline was so ugly—but she was also very good. And their mother, in her heart, could not stand that, so she said: 'White Caroline must die, cost what it will!' She thought and thought during seven days how she could rid herself of White Caroline. At last she went to an old witch, and bought the most violent poison that could be got. On arriving home she called Black Caroline and said: 'Pay attention, Black Caroline; when at dinner to-day, do not eat of the little meat-balls. Say you have a pain in your head; because I am going to put this poison in the meat, and then White Caroline will eat it, and she will die; and then you will be more than ever the pet of your mother!' And Black Caroline said, 'Very well!' But, at dinner time, when White Caroline was about to eat from her plate, she took her by the arm and said: 'White Caroline, I love you very much, but you must not tell mother; she wishes your death, and she has put poison in your meat. Tell her that we will eat our dinner outside the house, so that the cat may not eat the birds and so that the crows may not eat the grain. Then you can throw your portion away.' Then White Caroline, full of joy, took Black Caroline in her little arms and they went out together. A little while after they heard a rat-a-tat at the garden door. 'Here! Black Caroline! Are you there?' It was their mother calling from the inside of the house. 'Yes, my dear little mother, I am here!' said White Caroline. And their mother was in a great rage because White Caroline was not dead. Then she went out to see if Black Caroline was still alive. And she had still her plate full of meat, and she was shedding tears of blood, because she had such a bad [Pg 17] [Pg 18] headache. And their mother could not understand how it was that White Caroline was not dead, and she boiled with rage. And one day it happened that a tradesman was passing the house with sweets and cakes in his van, and when he saw White Caroline, he showed her all the sweets and cakes and nuts. White Caroline was so happy, because the tradesman gave her nuts and sweets for nothing, just because she was so pretty. But Black Caroline, who was coming down the winding stairs, came out to see. As soon as the man saw Black Caroline, he mounted his van and drove away at full gallop, because she was so ugly— but she was good all the same. And her mother could not stand that, so she said: 'White Caroline must die, cost what it will!' Then she went to an old miller and asked him if he could place the mill against four little sticks, so that whoever touched the mill it would fall on them and crush them. And the old miller said: 'Yes, it can be done very well, and the mill will be placed thus in fourteen days. I will see to it at once.' Their mother was very pleased, and she showed Black Caroline how the mill would be placed, and said to her: 'Pay attention, Black Caroline: when you go with the sack of flour to the mill, you must let it drag and be overcome, before you arrive near the little sticks that support the mill. White Caroline must take it all alone. As soon as she touches the little sticks she will be crushed by the mill, and then you will be more than ever the pet of your mother!' And Black Caroline said, 'Very well!' But the next day, when White Caroline walked near the little sticks, Black Caroline stopped her and said: 'White Caroline, I love you very much, and you must not tell mother; but she intends that you shall die, and she has caused these little sticks to be placed like that, so that the mill will fall on you and crush you. Throw the sack on the sticks—so!' And White Caroline, full of joy, took Black Caroline in her little arms, and so they went back. And it was well they did, for there were five little rats in that sack of flour, and all those five were killed when the mill fell down. Then they heard a rat-a-tat, and the voice of their mother calling: 'Here! Black Caroline! Are you there?' 'Yes, little mother, I am here,' answered White Caroline. And the mother was very cross to find that White Caroline was not dead. And she ran quickly to the mill to see if Black Caroline was alive. And, when she came back and found her, she was crying tears of blood because she ached in every limb and could not walk. And her mother could not understand how it was that White Caroline was not dead, and she boiled with rage. She took Black Caroline home and put her in her little bed. Then she set out to find White Caroline with intent to kill her; but White Caroline had gone far away where her mother could not get at her. On her journey she came to a great stretch of water and she could not cross over. But suddenly she saw many arms, as black as pitch, held out over the water so that they formed a bridge. White Caroline did not know whether to pass over this bridge or to go back. She began to cry bitterly; then, plucking up courage, she made the sign of the cross and ran upon them. When she came to the middle, the arms gave way, and White Caroline would have been drowned had she not been held by the heels of her little wooden shoes. And the water-nymphs and vampires were all around her. Then, suddenly, a beautiful woman all in white came running to her aid. And, though the claws of the Evil Things were now pulling her down by the heels of her little shoes, the White Woman was in time to save her just as she was on the point of being drowned. Then the White Woman turned to the water-nymphs and vampires: 'Be still, all of you! Down to your dens, and say I sent ye!' Then she led White Caroline to the other side of the water. And there she looked at her, and kissed her, and loved her as her own, because she was so beautiful. This White Woman was the Queen of all the water and the woods, and was able, in her domain, to grant anything that any one desired. In her great love for White Caroline, she told her that she could have whatever she wished. 'Would you like to eat some beautiful grapes, White Caroline?' said she. Then with her wand she tapped a vine, and behold, immediately there hung beautiful grapes upon it! 'Would you like a beautiful dress of silk, White Caroline?' And she tapped again with her little wand, and, immediately, from a chrysalis hanging from the vine, a lovely dress of sky-blue silk was unfolded before her, all ready to put on. [Pg 19] [Pg 20] And the nymphs and the vampires were more than ever afraid to come near White Caroline, and she was very glad of that indeed. 'Would you like a voyage?' said the White Woman. And, immediately, with a wave of her wand, she pointed it at a little nautilus sailing on the water, and there, in another moment, stood a beautiful barque with all sail set. And so White Caroline had everything she could desire, and was very happy. But one day a King came by, and the sound of his trumpet rang over the length of the water and through the woods. Quick—so quick—the White Woman ran to White Caroline and said to her: 'White Caroline, the time has come, and we must part; and you will never see me again. But, before I go, you can wish for two things; and whatever you wish, it shall be granted you!' With that the White Woman vanished. Then White Caroline wished to have Black Caroline with her. And immediately there was a rustling among the trees, and Black Caroline stood beside her! The two Carolines were now reunited. But White Caroline was sad because Black Caroline was not as pretty as she herself, and, remembering the White Woman's promise, she resolved to wish that they might both be exactly the same. Then she wished that both of them should be changed into something exactly alike! Immediately they began to change. Little white feathers appeared on their shoulders and spread until they were entirely covered; and there they stood together, two beautiful white swans! And ever after they swam up and down on the peaceful water and no one could tell one from the other. And never again did the nymphs and the vampires come near to harm them. THE SEVEN CONQUERORS OF THE QUEEN OF THE MISSISSIPPI A BELGIAN FAIRY TALE Once upon a time there was a boy who was ambitious. One day he said to his mother: 'Give me a muffin and patch my trousers, for I am going to set out to win the Queen of the Mississippi.' So the mother gave him a muffin and patched his trousers, and the boy went off. He had not gone very far when he came to a mountain path, on which was a great cross, beneath which stood a man holding a bow with an arrow fixed on the string. This man looked down at the boy as if to say, 'What are you doing here?' The boy immediately answered his unspoken question by demanding, 'Hello, friend! What are you doing there?' 'You see that fly on that cross?' said the man, pointing to a minute speck on one of its arms. 'Wait then, and watch me! I will put out one of its eyes.' With this, while the boy watched, he drew his bow to the full, and let the arrow fly. It was a wonderful shot, for one of the eyes of the fly fell on the ground at the foot of the cross. The boy was so taken with this, that he seemed to grow two whole years in half a minute. To look at him, you would have thought he was no longer a boy. He drew himself up proudly to his full height, and said in the voice of a young man: 'Will you travel with me, my pippy?' 'Pardon?' Then it was question and answer between them: 'Come, travel with me, my pippy.' [Pg 21] [Pg 23] [Pg 24] 'Oh! Whither away? To old Mandalay?' 'But no; to the far Mississippi, Where a beautiful Queen holds sway: And I'll marry that Queen some day.' 'I am yours! And the bounty?' 'Give it a name: I will pay.' Then the young man took his muffin, and, breaking off a little bit of it, handed it to the man with the bow and arrow. 'Keep it,' said he; 'it's a pledge of good faith.' So they journeyed on together. When they had gone some distance, they came to a high field, and in the middle of this stood a man stock still, gazing at the sun. As soon as the young man saw him, he shouted out at the top of his voice: 'Hi! What are you doing there, my good fellow?' 'I am just waiting for it to get a little more dazzling,' replied the man, still keeping his eyes fixed on the midday sun. As soon as the young man heard this he seemed to grow still more in stature. Indeed, he seemed to be almost a man. 'Will you travel with me?' he said. 'Pardon?' Then it was question and answer between them: 'Come, travel with me, my pippy.' 'Oh! Whither away? To the land of Cathay?' 'But no; to the far Mississippi, Where a beautiful Queen hath sway, Who has stolen my heart away.' 'I am yours! And the bounty?' 'What you will: it's a pleasure to pay.' Then the young man took his muffin, and, breaking off a little bit of it, handed it to the man who gazed at the sun. 'Keep it,' said he; 'it's a pledge of good faith.' THE SEVEN CONQUERORS OF THE QUEEN OF THE MISSISSIPPI "Hi! friend! Take the whole castle, with the Queen and all that it contains, on your shoulders!" See page 29 So they journeyed on together. When they had gone some distance further, they saw a man who had tied his legs together. [Pg 25]