Chapter I: Part 1

BO-PEEP

STORY BOOKS.

CINDERELLA,
THE PRINCESS ROSETTA,
FAIR ONE AND GOLDEN LOCKS,
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST,
LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD,
THE SLEEPING BEAUTY,

NEW YORK:
LEAVITT & ALLEN BROS.,
No. 8 HOWARD STREET.

* * * * *

THE STORY

OF

=Cinderella; or the Glass Slipper=.

=Edited by Madame de Chatelain.=

=Cinderella; or, the Glass Slipper.=

There once lived a gentleman, who, on becoming a widower, married a most haughty woman for his second wife. The lady had two daughters by a former marriage, equally proud and disagreeable as herself, while the husband had one daughter, of the sweetest temper and most angelic disposition, who was the complete counterpart of her late mother. No sooner was the wedding over, than the stepmother began to show her bad temper. She could not bear her stepdaughter's good qualities, that only showed up her daughters' unamiable ones still more obviously, and she accordingly compelled the poor girl to do all the drudgery of the household. It was she who washed the dishes, and scrubbed down the stairs, and polished the floors in my lady's chamber, and in those of the two pert misses, her daughters; and while the latter slept on good featherbeds in elegant rooms, furnished with full-length looking-glasses, their sister lay in a wretched garret on an old straw mattress. Yet the poor thing bore this ill treatment very meekly, and did not dare complain to her father, who was so besotted to his wife that he would only have scolded her.

When her work was done, she used to sit in the chimney corner amongst the cinders, which had caused the nickname of _Cinderella_ to be given her by the family; yet, for all her shabby clothes, Cinderella was a hundred times prettier than her sisters, let them be drest ever so magnificently.

It happened that the king's son gave a ball, to which he invited all the nobility; and, as our two young ladies made a great figure in the world, they were included in the list of invitations. So they began to be very busy choosing what head-dress and which gown would be the most becoming. Here was fresh work for poor Cinderella; for it was she, forsooth, who was to starch and get up their ruffles, and iron all their fine linen; and nothing but dress was talked about for days together. "I," said the eldest, "shall put on my red velvet dress, with my point-lace trimmings." "And I," said the younger sister, "shall wear my usual petticoat, but shall set it off with my gold brocaded train and my circlet of diamonds." They sent for a clever tire-woman to prepare the double rows of quilling for their caps, and they purchased a quantity of fashionably cut patches. They called in Cinderella to take her advice, as she had such good taste, and Cinderella not only advised them well, but offered to dress their hair, which they were pleased to accept. While she was thus busied, the sisters said to her, "And pray, Cinderella, would you like to go to the ball!" "Nay, you are mocking me," replied the poor girl; "it is not for such as I to go to balls." "True enough," rejoined they; "folks would laugh to see a Cinderella at a court ball."

Any other but Cinderella would have drest their hair awry to punish them for their impertinence, but she was so good natured that she dressed them most becomingly. The two sisters were so delighted, that they scarcely ate a morsel for a couple of days. They spent their whole time before a looking-glass, and they would be laced so tight, to make their waists as slender as possible, that more than a dozen stay-laces were broken in the attempt.

The long-wished-for evening came at last, and off they set. Cinderella's eyes followed them as long as she could, and then she was fain to weep. Her godmother now appeared, and seeing her in tears inquired what was the matter. "I wish---I wish," began the poor girl, but tears choked her utterance. "You wish that you could go to the ball," interrupted her godmother, who was a fairy. "Indeed I do!" said Cinderella, with a sigh. "Well, then, if you will be a good girl, you shall go," said her godmother. "Now fetch me a pumpkin from the garden," added she. Cinderella flew to gather the finest pumpkin she could find, though she could not understand how it was to help her to go to the ball. But, her godmother having scooped it quite hollow, touched it with her wand, when it was immediately changed into a gilt coach. She then went to the mousetrap, where she found six live mice, and bidding Cinderella let them out one by one, she changed each mouse into a fine dapple-grey horse by a stroke of her wand. She next considered what she should do for a coachman, when Cinderella proposed to look for a rat in the rat-trap. "That's a good thought," quoth her godmother, "so go and see." Sure enough, Cinderella returned with the rat-trap, in which were three large rats. The fairy chose one who had a tremendous pair of whiskers, and forthwith changed him into a coachman with the finest moustachios ever seen. She then said: "Now go into the garden, and bring me six lizards, which you will find behind the watering-pot." These were no sooner brought, than they were turned into six footmen, with laced liveries, who got up behind the coach just as naturally as if they had done nothing else all their lives. The fairy then said to Cinderella: "Now here are all the means for going to the ball; are you not pleased?" "But must I go in these dirty clothes?" said Cinderella, timidly. Her godmother merely touched her with her wand, and her shabby clothes were changed to a dress of gold and silver tissue, all ornamented with precious stones. She next gave her the prettiest pair of glass slippers ever seen. She now got into the carriage, after having been warned by her godmother upon no account to prolong her stay beyond midnight, as, should she remain a moment longer at the ball, her coach would again become a pumpkin, her horses mice, her footmen lizards, while her clothes would return to their former shabby condition. Cinderella promised she would not fail to leave the ball before midnight, and set off in an ecstacy of delight. The king's son, on being informed that some great princess, unknown at court, had just arrived, went to hand her out of her carriage, and brought her into the hall where the company was assembled. The moment she appeared, all conversation was hushed, the violins ceased playing, and the dancing stopped short, so great was the sensation produced by the stranger's beauty. A confused murmur of admiration fluttered through the crowd, and each was fain to exclaim "How surpassingly lovely she is!" Even the king, old as he was, could not forbear admiring her like the rest, and whispered to the queen, that she was certainly the fairest and comeliest woman he had seen for many a long day. The ladies were all busy examining her head-dress and her clothes, in order to get similar ones the very next day, if, indeed, they could meet with stuffs of such rich patterns, and find workwomen clever enough to make them up.

After leading her to the place to which her rank seemed to entitle her, the king's son requested her hand for the next dance, when she displayed so much grace as to increase the admiration her beauty had raised in the first instance. An elegant supper was next brought in, but the young prince was so taken up with gazing at the fair stranger, that he did not partake of a morsel. Cinderella went and sat by her sisters, sharing with them the oranges and citrons the prince had offered her, much to their surprise, as they did not recognise her in the least.

When Cinderella heard the clock strike three-quarters past eleven, she made a low curtsey to the whole assembly, and retired in haste. On reaching home, she found her godmother, and after thanking her for the treat she had enjoyed, she ventured to express a wish to return to the ball on the following evening, as the prince had requested her to do. She was still relating to her godmother all that had happened at court, when her two sisters knocked at the door. Cinderella went and let them in, pretending to yawn and stretch herself, and rub her eyes, and saying: "How late you are!" just as if she was woke up out of a nap, though, truth to say, she had never felt less disposed to sleep in her life. "If you had been to the ball," said one of the sisters, "you would not have thought it late. There came the most beautiful princess ever seen, who loaded us with polite attentions, and gave us oranges and citrons."

Cinderella could scarcely contain her delight, and inquired the name of the princess. But they replied that nobody knew her name, and that the king's son was in great trouble about her, and would give the world to know who she could be. "Is she, then, so very beautiful?" said Cinderella, smiling. "Lord! how I should like to see her! Oh, do, my Lady Javotte, lend me the yellow dress you wear every day, that I may go to the ball and have a peep at this wonderful princess." "A likely story, indeed!" cried Javotte, tossing her head disdainfully, "that I should lend my clothes to a dirty Cinderella like you!" Cinderella expected to be refused, and was not sorry for it, as she would have been puzzled what to do, had her sister really lent her the dress she begged to have.

On the following evening, the sisters again went to the court ball, and so did Cinderella, drest even more magnificently than before. The king's son never left her side, and kept paying her the most flattering attentions. The young lady was nothing loth to listen to him; so it came to pass that she forgot her godmother's injunctions, and, indeed, lost her reckoning so completely, that, before she deemed it could be eleven o'clock, she was startled at hearing the first stroke of midnight. She rose hastily, and flew away like a startled fawn. The prince attempted to follow her, but she was too swift for him; only, as she flew she dropped one of her glass slippers, which he picked up very eagerly. Cinderella reached home quite out of breath, without either coach or footmen, and with only her shabby clothes on her back; nothing, in short, remained of her recent magnificence, save a little glass slipper, the fellow to the one she had lost. The sentinels at the palace gate were closely questioned as to whether they had not seen a princess coming out; but they answered they had seen no one except a shabbily drest girl, who appeared to be a peasant rather than a young lady.

When the two sisters returned from the ball, Cinderella asked them whether they had been well entertained; and whether the beautiful lady was there? They replied, that she was; but that she had run away as soon as midnight had struck, and so quickly as to drop one of her dainty glass slippers, which the king's son had picked up, and was looking at most fondly during the remainder of the ball; indeed, it seemed beyond a doubt that he was deeply enamoured of the beautiful creature to whom it belonged.

They spoke truly enough; for, a few days afterwards, the king's son caused a proclamation to be made, by sound of trumpet, all over the kingdom, to the effect that he would marry her whose foot should be found to fit the slipper exactly. So the slipper was first tried on by all the princesses; then by all the duchesses; and next by all the persons belonging to the court: but in vain. It was then carried to the two sisters, who tried with all their might to force their feet into its delicate proportions, but with no better success. Cinderella, who was present, and recognised her slipper, now laughed, and said: "Suppose I were to try?" Her sisters ridiculed such an idea; but the gentleman who was appointed to try the slipper, having looked attentively at Cinderella, and perceived how beautiful she was, said that it was but fair she should do so, as he had orders to try it on every young maiden in the kingdom. Accordingly, having requested Cinderella to sit down, she no sooner put her little foot to the slipper, than she drew it on, and it fitted like wax. The sisters were quite amazed; but their astonishment increased ten fold, when Cinderella drew the fellow slipper out of her pocket, and put it on. Her godmother then made her appearance; and, having touched Cinderella's clothes with her wand, made them still more magnificent than those she had previously worn.

Her two sisters now recognised her for the beautiful stranger they had seen at the ball; and, falling at her feet, implored her forgiveness for their unworthy treatment, and all the insults they had heaped upon her head. Cinderella raised them, saying, as she embraced them, that she not only forgave them with all her heart, but wished for their affection. She was then taken to the palace of the young prince, in whose eyes she appeared yet more lovely than before, and who married her shortly after.

Cinderella, who was as good as she was beautiful, allowed her sisters to lodge in the palace, and gave them in marriage, that same day, to two lords belonging to the court.

THE STORY

OF

=Beauty and the Beast=.

=Edited by Madame de Chatelain.=

=Beauty and the Beast.=

There was once a wealthy merchant who had three sons and three daughters. The latter were extremely pretty, especially the youngest, who, indeed, was called in childhood the little Beauty,--a nickname that clung to her ever after, much to the jealous annoyance of her sisters. Nor did she excel them more in beauty than in goodness. The two eldest sisters were so proud of their father's fortune that they would not condescend to herd with other merchants' daughters, but were always dangling after persons of quality, and frequenting balls and plays, and laughed at their youngest sister for spending her time in reading instructive books. As they were known to be rich, many wealthy merchants offered to marry them; but the two eldest replied, that they could not think of anybody below a Duke, or at least an Earl, while Beauty answered, that she thanked them for their good opinion, but that, being still very young, she wished to remain a few years longer with her father.

It happened that the merchant was suddenly ruined, and nothing was left of all his vast property but a small house in the country, whither, he informed his children, they must now remove. The two eldest replied, that for their parts they need not leave town, as they had plenty of lovers who would be too happy to marry them even without a fortune. But here they were strangely mistaken. Their lovers would not even look upon them now; and, as they had made themselves odious by their pride, nobody pitied them for their fall, though every one felt sorry for Beauty. Indeed, several gentlemen offered to marry her, portionless as she was; but she told them she could not resolve to abandon her father in his misfortunes. The family now removed into the country, where the father and his sons tilled the ground, while Beauty rose daily at four o'clock, and did all the work in the house. At first this drudgery seemed very hard, but after a time she grew stronger, and her health improved. When her work was over she read, played on the harpsichord, or sang as she sat at her spinning-wheel. As to her two sisters, they were perfectly helpless, and a burden to themselves. They would rise at ten, and spend the live-long day fretting for the loss of their fine clothes and gay parties, and sneer at their sister for her low-born tastes, because she put up with their unfortunate position so cheerfully.

The family had spent about a year in their retreat, when the merchant received a letter, informing him that a ship freighted with goods belonging to him, that was thought to be lost, had just come into port. At this unexpected news the two eldest sisters were half wild for joy, as they now hoped they would soon leave the cottage; and when their father was about to go and settle his business, they begged him to bring them back all sorts of dresses and trinkets. When the father perceived that Beauty did not ask for anything, he inquired what he should bring her. "Why, since you ask me, dear father," said she, "I should like you to bring me a rose, as none grow in these parts." Now, it was not that Beauty particularly cared about his bringing a rose, only she would not appear to blame her sisters, or to seem superior to them, by saying she did not wish for anything. The good man set off, but when he reached the port, he was obliged to go to law about the cargo, and it ended in his returning as poor as he came. He was within thirty miles of home, when, on passing by night through a large forest, he was overtaken by a heavy fall of snow, and, having completely lost his way, he began to be afraid he should die of hunger and cold, when of a sudden he perceived a light at the end of a long long avenue of trees, and, on making for that direction, he reached a splendid palace, where, to his surprise, not a human being was stirring in any of the court-yards. His horse followed him, and, seeing a stable-door open, walked in, and here the poor jaded beast fed heartily on the hay and oats that filled the crib. The merchant then entered the house, where he still saw nobody, but found a good fire, and a table ready laid for one person, with the choicest viands. Being completely drenched, he drew near the fire to dry his clothes, saying to himself, "I hope the master of the house or his servants will excuse the liberty I am taking, for no doubt it will not be long before they make their appearance." He then waited a considerable while, still no one came, and by the time the clock struck eleven, he was so exhausted with hunger that he took up a chicken, which he devoured in two mouthfuls, and in a perfect tremor. He next drank several glasses of wine, when, taking courage, he left the hall, and crossed several suites of rooms most magnificently furnished. At last he found a very nice chamber, and, as it was now past midnight, and he was excessively tired, he closed the door and went to bed.

The merchant did not wake till ten o'clock on the following morning, when he was surprised to find a new suit of clothes instead of his own, which were spoiled. He now concluded the palace belonged to some beneficent fairy; a notion which was completely confirmed on his looking out of window, and seeing that the snow had given place to flowery arbours and the most enchanting gardens. Having returned to the great hall, where he had supped on the previous night, he saw a small table, on which stood some chocolate ready for his breakfast. When his meal was finished, he went to look after his horse, and, as he happened to pass under a bower of roses, he bethought him of Beauty's request, and plucked a bunch to take home. No sooner had he done so than he heard a frightful roar, and saw such a horrible beast stalking up to him that he was ready to faint with alarm. "You are most ungrateful," cried the Beast, in a terrific voice. "I saved your life by admitting you into my palace, and you reward me by stealing my roses, which I love beyond everything else! You shall pay the forfeit with your life's blood." The poor merchant threw himself on his knees before the Beast, saying: "Forgive me, my Lord, I did not know I should offend you by plucking a rose for one of my daughters, in compliance with her wishes." "I am not a lord, but a beast," answered the monster; "I hate flattery, and you will not come over me with any fine speeches; but, as you say you have daughters, I will forgive you, provided one of them comes willingly to die in your stead, but swear that, should they refuse, you will return in three months." The merchant had not the most distant intention of sacrificing one of his daughters, but wishing to see his children once more before he died, he swore to return, and the Beast dismissed him, telling him he need not go empty-handed, but that, if he returned to his bed-chamber, he would find a large trunk, which he was at liberty to fill with anything he fancied in the palace, and that it would be sent after him. Somewhat comforted at the idea of leaving his children provided for, the merchant returned to his room, where he found a quantity of gold pieces; and having filled the trunk, he left the palace in a far sadder mood than he had entered it. On reaching home, he gave the roses to his daughter, saying: "Take them, Beauty: you little think how dear they have cost your poor father." And thereupon, he related all that had befallen him. The two eldest sisters then began to rend the air with their lamentations, and to upbraid Beauty for being the cause of their father's death, because, forsooth, she didn't ask for dresses, as they did, in order to seem wiser than they; and now she had not even a tear for the mischief she had done. But Beauty replied, it were of little use to weep, for that she was quite resolved to go, and die in her father's stead. "No," cried the three brothers, "we will go and seek this monster, and either he or we shall perish." But the merchant assured them it was vain to attempt resisting the Beast's all-powerful will, and that it was their duty to live to protect their sisters, as it was his to sacrifice the few remaining years he could expect to enjoy. Meanwhile, the merchant, having forgotten all about the trunk, was much surprised to find it on retiring to his chamber; but he said nothing about it for the present to his eldest daughters, as he knew they would pester him to return to town.

When the day came that Beauty was to set out with her father, the two heartless sisters rubbed their eyes with an onion to appear as if they had cried a great deal, while her brothers shed real tears, as well as the father himself. The horse took the right road of his own accord, and, on reaching the palace, which was illuminated as before, he went at once into the stable, while the father and daughter entered the great hall, where two covers were laid on a table loaded with the most dainty fare. After supper they heard a tremendous noise. Beauty shuddered on seeing the Beast enter, and when he inquired whether she had come willingly, she could not help trembling as she faltered out "Yes." "Then I am obliged for your kindness," growled the Beast; and, turning to the father, he added: "As for you--get you gone to-morrow, and never let me see you here again. Good night, Beauty." "Good night, Beast," answered she, and then the monster retired. The merchant again fell to entreating his daughter to leave him, but the next morning she prevailed on him to set out; which he, perhaps, would not have done, had he not felt a faint hope that the Beast might, after all, relent. When he was gone, Beauty could not help shedding some tears; after which she proceeded to examine the various rooms of the palace, when she was surprised to find written upon one of the doors, "Beauty's Apartment." She opened it in haste, and found a magnificently furnished room, and was much struck on seeing an extensive library, a harpsichord, and music books; for she concluded that, if she had only a day to live, such amusements would not have been provided for her. Her surprise increased, on opening one of the books, and seeing written in golden letters, "_Your wishes and commands shall be obeyed: you are here the queen over everything_." "Alas!" thought she, "my wish would be to see what my poor father is now about." No sooner had she expressed this desire in her own mind, than she saw depicted in a large looking-glass her father's arrival at home. Her sisters came out to meet him, and, in spite of their affected sorrow, it was plain enough that they rejoiced in their hearts at his returning alone. This vision disappeared a moment afterwards, and Beauty felt grateful to the Beast for complying with her wishes. At noon she found dinner ready for her; and she was treated all the while to an excellent concert, though she saw nobody. At night the Beast came, and asked leave to sup with her, which of course she could not refuse, though she trembled from head to foot. Presently he inquired whether she did not think him very ugly. "Yes," said Beauty, "for I cannot tell a lie; but I think you very good." The supper passed off pleasantly enough, and Beauty had half recovered from her alarm, when he suddenly asked her whether she would marry him. Though afraid of irritating him, she faltered out: "No, Beast," when he sighed so as to shake the whole house, and saying: "Good night, Beauty," in a sorrowful tone, left the room, much to her relief, though she could not help pitying him from her soul.

Beauty lived in this manner for three months. The Beast came to supper every night; and, by degrees, as she grew accustomed to his ugliness, she esteemed him for his many amiable qualities. The only thing that pained her was, that he never failed to ask her whether she would marry him; and when, at last, she told him that she had the greatest friendship though no love for him, he begged her at least to promise never to leave him. Now Beauty had seen in her glass, that very morning, that her father lay sick with grief at her supposed death; and, as her sisters were married, and her brothers gone for soldiers, she had so great a wish to go and see him, that she told the Beast she should die if he refused her leave. "No," said the Beast, "I would much rather your poor Beast should die of grief for your absence. So you may go." But Beauty promised to return in a week; and the Beast having informed her that she need only lay her ring on her toilet table before she went to bed, when she meant to return, he wished her good night, and retired.

On awaking next morning, Beauty found herself in her father's cottage, and his delight on seeing her alive soon restored his health. He sent for her sisters, who presently came accompanied by their husbands, with whom they lived very unhappily, as one was so vain of his person that he thought nothing of his wife, and the other so sarcastic that he was playing off his wit all day long on everybody around him, and most of all on his lady. The sisters were so jealous on finding Beauty magnificently dressed, and hearing how kind the Beast was to her, that they laid a plan for detaining her beyond the time allowed her to stay, in hopes he would be so angry as to devour her. Accordingly, when the week was over, they affected such grief at her departure, that Beauty agreed to a stay another week, though she could not help reproaching herself for so doing. But on the night of the tenth day, she dreamt she saw the Beast lying half dead on the grass in the palace garden, and waking all in tears, she got out of bed, laid her ring on the table, and then went to bed again, where she soon fell asleep. She was quite relieved, on waking, to find herself back in the palace, and waited impatiently till supper time, but nine o'clock struck, and no Beast appeared. Beauty then seriously feared she had caused his death, and running into the garden towards the spot she had dreamt of, she saw the poor Beast lying senseless on the grass. She threw herself upon his body in despair, when feeling that his heart still beat, she ran to fetch some water from a neighbouring stream, and threw it into his face. The Beast opened his eyes saying in a faint voice: "You forgot your promise, and I determined to starve myself to death; but since you are come, I shall, at least, die happy." "No! you shall not die, dear Beast," cried Beauty, "you shall live to be my husband, for I now feel I really love you." No sooner had she spoken these words, than the palace was brilliantly illuminated, fireworks were displayed, and a band of music struck up. The Beast had disappeared, and in his place, a very handsome prince was at her feet, thanking her for having broken his enchantment. "But where is my poor Beast?" said Beauty anxiously. "He is now before you," said the prince. "A wicked fairy condemned me to retain that uncouth form till some beautiful maid had sufficient goodness to love me in spite of my ugliness." Beauty, most agreeably surprised, now helped the prince to rise, and they returned to the palace, where she found her father. The young pair were then married, and the prince and his beautiful bride were heartily welcomed by his subjects, who had mourned his absence, and over whom they reigned happily for many, many long years.

THE STORY

OF

=Princess Rosetta=.

=Edited by Madame de Chatelain.=

=Princess Rosetta.=

There once lived a king and a queen who had two very fine boys. The queen always invited the fairies, on the birth of her children, to foretel their fortunes; so when, some years after, a daughter was born, she again applied to her old friends. The little girl was so beautiful that the fairies were struck with admiration; but when questioned by the mother as to the future fate of Princess Rosetta (for such was her name), they one and all pretended to have left their conjuring-book at home, and said they would come another time. "Alas!" cried the queen, "this bodes no good. Yet I do entreat you to tell me the worst." The more unwilling the fairies seemed to speak, the greater desire the queen felt to know what was the matter; so at length the principal fairy said: "We are afraid, Madam, that Rosetta will prove unlucky to her brothers, and that they will die in some adventure on her account. That is all that we are able to foresee about your pretty little girl." They then departed, and left the queen very sad.

Some time after, the queen was told that there was an old hermit, who lived in the trunk of a tree, in a neighbouring wood, and whom everybody went to consult. So she went and consulted the hermit, and he answered, that the best thing would be to shut the princess up in a tower, and never allow her to go abroad. The queen thanked him, and having made him a handsome present, came back and told the king what he had said. The king immediately ordered a high tower to be built, and when it was finished, he shut the princess up in it, though he went daily to see his daughter, accompanied by the queen and the two princes, who were devotedly attached to their sister. By the time the princess was fifteen years of age the king and queen fell ill and died the same day, to the great grief of Rosetta and her brothers. The eldest son was now raised to the throne, when he said to his brother: "It is time we should let our sister out of the tower in which she has been so long shut up." Accordingly they crossed the garden, and having entered the tower, Rosetta came to meet them, and said: "I hope, Sire, now that you are king, you will let me out of this tower, where I am so tired of being shut up." And so saying she burst into tears. But the king told her not to cry, and that she should not only leave the tower, but soon be married. When Rosetta came down into the garden, she was delighted with all she saw, and ran about like a child to gather flowers and fruit, followed by her little dog Fretillon, who was as green as a parrot, and had long ears, but who danced most admirably. But when the princess caught sight of a peacock, she thought it the most beautiful creature in the world, and asked her brothers what it was. On being told that it was a bird that was occasionally eaten, she replied that it was a sin and a shame to eat such a beautiful bird, and added, that she would never marry any one but the king of the peacocks, and then such a sacrilege should be forbidden. "But, sister," said the king, greatly astonished, "where on earth can we find the king of the peacocks?" "That is your look-out," said the young princess; "all I can say is, that no one else shall become my husband."

The two brothers then led her to the palace, whither she insisted on having the peacock removed, and put into her chamber. All the ladies of the court, who had not seen Rosetta, then came to pay their respects to her, and brought her a variety of presents, which she received with such infantine grace and pretty gratitude, as to delight everybody. The king and his brother were thinking, meanwhile, how they should contrive to find the king of the peacocks. At length they had Rosetta's picture taken, and a speaking likeness it was, and with this they set off on their difficult errand, leaving the princess to govern the kingdom during their absence.

They at last reached the kingdom of the Cockchafers, and such a buzzing there was in it, that the king thought he should go deaf or mad. At length he asked the one who appeared the most rational of the set, where he could find the king of the peacocks. "Please your majesty," replied the cockchafer, "his kingdom is thirty thousand miles from hence, and you have taken the longest road to reach it." "And pray, how can you know that?" said the king. "Because," rejoined the cockchafer, "you and we are old acquaintances, for we spend two or three months in your gardens every year." The king and his brother embraced the cockchafer for joy, and then they dined together; and after admiring all the curiosities of the kingdom, where every leaf was worth a guinea, they continued their journey, till they reached a country where they saw all the trees were filled with peacocks, who made such a screeching that they were to be heard at least two leagues off. The king now said to his brother: "Should the king of the peacocks be himself a peacock, he will be an odd husband for our sister. What a pity it is she ever imagined that there existed such a king!" On reaching the capital, however, they found it inhabited by men and women, who wore dresses made of peacocks' feathers; and presently they saw the king coming out of his palace, in a beautiful little golden carriage studded with diamonds, and drawn by twelve peacocks. He was extremely handsome, and wore his fine, long, curly flaxen hair flowing on his shoulders, surmounted by a crown of peacocks' feathers. On perceiving the two strangers he stopped the carriage, and inquired what had brought them to his kingdom. The king and prince then said they came from afar to shew him a beautiful portrait, and accordingly drew forth Rosetta's likeness. The king of the peacocks after having attentively examined it, declared he could not believe there really existed so beautiful a maiden in the world. Upon which the prince informed him that his brother was a king, and that the original of the portrait was their sister, the princess Rosetta, who was a hundred times more beautiful than here represented, and that they came to offer her to him in marriage, with a bushel of golden crowns for her portion. "I should willingly marry her," replied the king of the peacocks, "but I must insist upon her being quite as beautiful as the picture; and, should I find her inferior in the slightest respect, I will put you both to death." "Agreed!" cried the brothers. "Well, then," said the king, "you must go to prison till the princess arrives." This they willingly did, and then wrote off to their sister to come immediately to marry the king of the peacocks, who was dying of love for her; but they said nothing about their being shut up, for fear of alarming her.

The princess was half wild with joy when she heard the king of the peacocks was really found, and she lost no time in setting off with her nurse, her foster-sister, and her little green dog Fretillon, who were the only companions she chose to take with her. They put to sea in a vessel loaded with a bushel of golden crowns, and with clothes enough for ten years, supposing the princess put on two new dresses every day.

During the passage, the nurse kept asking the pilot how near they were to the kingdom of peacocks; and when at last he told her they would soon reach its shores, the wicked creature said, that if he would help her to throw the princess into the sea, as soon as she should be asleep that night, she could then dress up her daughter in her fine clothes, and present her to the king of the peacocks for his bride, and that she would give him gold and diamonds so as to make his fortune. The pilot thought it a pity to drown such a fair princess; but the nurse having plied him with wine until he was quite tipsy, he gave his consent, and when night came, he helped her and her daughter to take up Rosetta, when she was fast asleep, mattress, feather-bed and all, and flung her into the sea. Fortunately the bed was stuffed with phoenix's feathers, which possess the virtue of not sinking, so that it kept floating like a barge. Still, the waves wetted it by degrees, and Rosetta, feeling uncomfortable, kept turning about in her sleep, till she woke her little dog, who lay at the foot of her bed. Fretillon had a very fine scent, and, as he smelt the soles and the cod, he barked aloud, which in turn woke the fish, who began to swim about and run foul of the princess's light craft, that kept twisting about like a whirlpool.

Meanwhile the wicked nurse had reached the shore, where she and her daughter found a hundred carriages waiting for them, drawn by a variety of animals, such as lions, stags, bears, wolves, horses, oxen, eagles, and peacocks. The coach intended for Princess Rosetta was drawn by six blue monkeys, caparisoned with crimson velvet. The nurse had drest up her daughter in the finest gown she could find, and loaded her head with diamonds; in spite of which, she appeared so frightful, with her squinting eyes, oily black hair, crooked legs, and humped shoulder, that the persons sent by the king of the peacocks to receive her, were struck with amazement at the sight of her. Being as cross as she was ill-favoured, she asked them tartly whether they were all asleep, and why they did not bring her something to eat; and then, distributing her blows pretty freely, she threatened to have them all hung if they did not shew a little more alacrity in doing her bidding. As she passed along in state, the peacocks perched on the trees cried out, "Fie! what an ugly creature!" which enraged her so that she ordered her guards to go and kill all the peacocks; but they flew away and only laughed at her the more. When the pilot heard and saw all this, he whispered to the nurse: "We are in the wrong box, mistress;" but she bid him hold his peace.

When the king came forth to meet her, accompanied by all his nobles, his peacocks, and the foreign ambassadors staying at his court, preceded by Rosetta's portrait at the end of a long pole, he was ready to die with rage and vexation on seeing such a fright; and, without more ado, he ordered her to be shut up, together with the nurse and the pilot, in the tower prison. His rage next fell upon the two princes, whom he accused of making game of him; and they were much surprised when, instead of being released on their sister's arrival, they were transferred to a horrible dungeon, where they remained up to their necks in water for three days. At the end of that time, the king of the peacocks came and insulted them through a loop-hole, and told them they were a couple of adventurers, whom he would have hung; upon which, the elder prisoner replied indignantly, that he was as good a king as himself, and that he might some day repent his insolent behaviour. Seeing him so firm, the king of the peacocks had almost a mind to release them at once, and send them away with their sister, but one of his courtiers persuaded him that his dignity required he should punish the strangers; so he had them tried, and they were condemned to be executed for having told a falsehood, and promising the king a beautiful bride, who had turned out a horrible fright. When they heard this sentence, they protested so vehemently that there must be some misunderstanding, which time would clear up, that they obtained a week's respite. Meanwhile, the poor princess, who was greatly surprised on waking to find herself in the middle of the sea, began to weep bitterly, and fancied she had been cast into the waves by order of the king of the peacocks. After being tossed about for a couple of days, during which she would have died of hunger had she not chanced to pass near a bed of oysters, Fretillon's incessant barking attracted the notice of a good old man, who lived in a solitary hut on the shore. Thinking some travellers had lost their way, he came out to help them, when he was much surprised on beholding the princess in her water bed, calling out to him to save her life. The old man ran back to fetch a grapple, and towed the bed ashore with some difficulty, and the princess having wrapt herself in the counterpane, followed him to his cottage, where he lit a fire, and gave her some clothes that once belonged to his late wife. Seeing that she must be a lady of high degree, by the richness of the bed-clothes, which were of satin, embroidered with gold and silver, the old man questioned her, and having learnt her story, he offered to go and inform the king of her arrival, reminding her that she would not have proper fare in his poor house. But Rosetta would not hear of such a thing, and preferred borrowing a basket, which she fastened to Fretillon's neck, saying, "Go and fetch me pot-luck from the best kitchen in the town." Fretillon set off; and, as there was no better than the king's, he stole all that was in the pot, and came back to his mistress. She then sent him back to the pantry to fetch bread, wine, and fruit. Now, when the king of the peacocks wanted to dine, there was nothing left, either in the pot or the pantry, so he was in a great rage, and he ordered some joints to be roasted, that he might, at least, make a good supper. But when evening came, the princess sent Fretillon to fetch some joints from the best kitchen, and the little dog again went to the palace, and, whipping the joints off the spit while the cook's back was turned, he filled his basket and returned home. The king having missed his dinner, wished to sup earlier than usual, when again nothing was to be had, and he went to bed in a perfect fury. The same thing happened the next day, both at dinner and at supper, so that for three days the king never tasted a morsel; and this might have gone on much longer had not a courtier concealed himself in the kitchen, and discovered the four-footed thief, and followed him to the cottage. The king immediately ordered the inmates of the cottage and the dog to be taken into custody, and determined they should be put to death with the two strangers, whose respite was to expire on the morrow. He then entered the hall of justice to judge the culprits. The old man knelt before him, and told him Rosetta's whole story; and when the king cast his eyes upon her, and saw how beautiful she was, he jumped for joy, and untied the cords that bound her. Meantime the two princes were sent for, together with the nurse and her daughter; and when they had all met, Rosetta fell on her brothers' necks, while the guilty nurse and her daughter, and the pilot, knelt down to implore forgiveness. The king was so delighted that he pardoned them, and rewarded the old man handsomely, and insisted on his remaining in his palace. The king of the peacocks next did all he could to make up for the ill-usage the king and the prince had suffered. The nurse returned the bushel of golden crowns and Rosetta's fine clothes; and the wedding rejoicings lasted a whole fortnight. So everybody was satisfied, not forgetting Fretillon, who was fed with all sorts of dainties for the rest of his life.

THE STORY

OF

=Little Red Riding Hood=.

=Edited by Madame de Chatelain.=

=Little Red Riding Hood.=

In a retired and pleasant village there once lived a little girl, who was one of the prettiest children ever seen. Her mother loved her to excess, and as to her grandmother, she was doatingly fond of her, and looked upon her as the delight of her eyes, and the comfort of her declining years. The good old dame had a little hood of scarlet velvet made for her darling, which became her so daintily, that for miles round she had been nicknamed Little Red Riding Hood.

One day, when her mother had baked a batch of cakes, she said to Little Red Riding Hood: "I hear your poor grandam has been ailing, so, prithee, go and see if she be any better, and take her this cake and a little pot of butter." Little Red Riding Hood, who was a willing child, and always ready to be useful, put the things into a basket, and immediately set off for the village where her grandmother lived, which lay on the other side of a thick wood. As she reached the outskirts of the forest, she met a wolf, who would have liked vastly to have devoured her at once, had there not been some woodcutters near at hand, whom he feared might kill him in turn. So he sidled up to the little girl, and said, in as winning a tone as he could assume: "Good morning, Little Red Riding Hood." "Good morning, Master Wolf," answered she, who had no idea of being afraid of so civil spoken an animal. "And pray where may you be going so early?" quoth the wolf. "I am going to my grandmother's," replied Little Red Riding Hood, who thought there could be no harm in telling him. "And what are you carrying in your basket, my pretty little maid?" continued the wolf, sniffing its contents. "Why, a cake and a pot of butter," answered simple Little Red Riding Hood, "because grandmother has been ill." "And where does poor grandmamma live?" inquired the wolf, in a tone of great interest. "Down beyond the mill, on the other side of the wood," said she. "Well," cried the wolf, "I don't mind if I go and see her too. So I'll take this road, and do you go through the wood, and we'll see which of us shall be there first."

Now, the wily wolf knew well enough that he would be the winner in such a race. For, letting alone his four feet against poor Little Red Riding Hood's two, he could dash through the underwood, and swim across a pond, that would bring him by a very short cut to the old grandam's cottage, while he shrewdly guessed that the little girl would stop to gather strawberries, or to make up a posy, as she loitered along the pleasanter but more roundabout path through the wood. And sure enough the wolf, who cared neither for strawberries nor for flowers, made such good speed that he had presently reached the grandmother's cottage. Thump, thump, went the wolf against the door. "Who is there?" cried the grandam from within. "Only your grandchild, Little Red Riding Hood," cried the wolf, imitating the little girl's shrill infantine voice as best he might. "I have come to bring you a cake and a pot of butter that mother sends you." The grandmother, being ill, was in bed, so she called out: "Lift the latch, and the bolt will fall." The wolf did so, and in he went, and, without saying a word more, he fell upon the poor old creature, and ate her up in no time, for he had not tasted food for the last three days. He next shut the door, and, putting on the grandam's nightcap and nightgown, he got into bed, drew the curtain, and buried his head in the pillow, and kept laughing in his sleeve at the trick he meant to put upon poor Little Red Riding Hood, and wondering how long she would be before she came.

Meanwhile Little Red Riding Hood rambled through the wood with child-like glee, stopping every now and then to listen to the birds that were singing so sweetly on the green boughs, and picking strawberries, which she knew her grandam loved to eat with cream, till she had nearly filled her basket; nor had she neglected to gather all the pretty flowers, red, blue, white, or yellow, that hid their sweet little heads amidst the moss; and of these her apron was at last so full, that she sat down under a tree to sort them and wind them into a wreath.