The Red Fairy Book - Andrew Lang (best novels for beginners TXT) 📗

others laughed at him, and mocked him. `What I

when all went so ill with us, do you suppose that you are going to

succeed? You look like succeeding—you who have never done

anything else but lie and poke about among the ashes!’ said they.

 

`Yes, I will go too,’ said Cinderlad, `for I have taken it into my

head.’

 

The two brothers laughed at him, and his father and mother

begged him not to go, but all to no purpose, and Cinderlad set out

on his way. So when he had walked the whole day, he too came

to the King’s palace as darkness began to fall.

 

There stood the King outside on the steps, and he asked whither

he was bound.

 

`I am walking about in search of a place,’ said Cinderlad.

 

`From whence do you come, then?’ inquired the King, for by

this time he wanted to know a little more about the men before he

took any of them into his service.

 

So Cinderlad told him whence he came, and that he was brother

to the two who had watched the seven foals for the King, and then

he inquired if he might be allowed to try to watch them on the

following day.

 

`Oh, shame on them!’ said the King, for it enraged him even to

think of them. `If thou art brother to those two, thou too art not

good for much. I have had enough of such fellows.’

 

`Well, but as I have come here, you might just give me leave

to make the attempt,’ said Cinderlad.

 

`Oh, very well, if thou art absolutely determined to have thy

back flayed, thou may’st have thine own way if thou wilt,’ said the

King.

 

`I would much rather have the Princess,’ said Cinderlad.

 

Next morning, in the grey light of dawn, the Master of the Horse

let out the seven foals again, and off they set over hill and dale,

through woods and bogs, and off went Cinderlad after them. When

he had run thus for a long time, he too came to the cleft in the rock.

There the old hag was once more sitting spinning from her distaff,

and she cried to Cinderlad;

 

`Come hither, come hither, my handsome son, and let me comb

your hair for you.’

 

`Come to me, then; come to me!’ said Cinderlad, as he passed

by jumping and running, and keeping tight hold of one of the foals’

tails.

 

When he had got safely past the cleft in the rock, the youngest

foal said:

 

`Get on my back, for we have still a long way to go.’ So the

lad did this.

 

And thus they journeyed onwards a long, long way.

 

`Dost thou see anything now?’ said the Foal.

 

`No,’ said Cinderlad.

 

So they journeyed onwards a good bit farther.

 

`Dost thou see anything now?’ asked the Foal.

 

`Oh, no,’ said the lad.

 

When they had gone thus for a long, long way, the Foal again

asked:

 

`Dost thou see anything now?’

 

`Yes, now I see something that is white,’ said Cinderlad. `It

looks like the trunk of a great thick birch tree.’

 

`Yes, that is where we are to go in,’ said the Foal.

 

When they got to the trunk, the eldest foal broke it down on

one side, and then they saw a door where the trunk had been

standing, and inside this there was a small room, and in the room

there was scarcely anything but a small fireplace and a couple of

benches, but behind the door hung a great rusty sword and a small

pitcher.

 

`Canst thou wield that sword?’ asked the Foal.

 

Cinderlad tried, but could not do it; so he had to take a draught

from the pitcher, and then one more, and after that still another,

and then he was able to wield the sword with perfect ease.

 

`Good,’ said the Foal; `and now thou must take the sword away

with thee, and with it shalt thou cut off the heads of all seven of us

on thy wedding-day, and then we shall become princes again as we

were before. For we are brothers of the Princess whom thou art

to have when thou canst tell the King what we eat and drink, but

there is a mighty Troll who has cast a spell over us. When thou

hast cut off our heads, thou must take the greatest care to lay each

head at the tail of the body to which it belonged before, and then

the spell which the Troll has cast upon us will lose all its power.’

 

Cinderlad promised to do this, and then they went on farther,

 

When they had travelled a long, long way, the Foal said:

 

`Dost thou see anything?’

 

`No,’ said Cinderlad.

 

So they went on a great distance farther.

 

`And now?’ inquired the Foal, `seest thou nothing now?’

 

`Alas! no,’ said Cinderlad.

 

So they travelled onwards again, for many and many a mile,

over hill and dale.

 

`Now, then,’ said the Foal, `dost thou not see anything now?’

 

`Yes,’ said Cinderlad; `now I see something like a bluish streak,

far, far away.’

 

`That is a river,’ said the Foal, `and we have to cross it.’

 

There was a long, handsome bridge over the river, and when

they had got to the other side of it they again travelled on a long,

long way, and then once more the Foal inquired if Cinderlad saw

anything. Yes, this time he saw something that looked black, far,

far away, and was rather like a church tower.

 

`Yes,’ said the Foal, `we shall go into that.’

 

When the Foals got into the churchyard they turned into men

and looked like the sons of a king, and their clothes were so

magnificent that they shone with splendour, and they went into

the church and received bread and wine from the priest, who was

standing before the altar, and Cinderlad went in too. But when the

priest had laid his hands on the princes and read the blessing, they

went out of the church again, and Cinderlad went out too, but he

took with him a flask of wine and some consecrated bread. No

sooner had the seven princes come out into the churchyard than they

became foals again, and Cinderlad got upon the back of the youngest,

and they returned by the way they had come, only they went much,

much faster.

 

First they went over the bridge, and then past the trunk of the

birch tree, and then past the old hag who sat in the cleft of the rock

spinning, and they went by so fast that Cinderlad could not hear

what the old hag screeched after him, but just heard enough to

understand that she was terribly enraged.

 

It was all but dark when they got back to the King at nightfall,

and he himself was standing in the courtyard waiting for them.

 

`Hast thou watched well and faithfully the whole day?’ said the

King to Cinderlad.

 

`I have done my best,’ replied Cinderlad.

 

`Then thou canst tell me what my seven foals eat and drink?’

asked the King.

 

So Cinderlad pulled out the consecrated bread and the flask of

wine, and showed them to the King. `Here may you behold their

meat, and here their drink,’ said he.

 

`Yes, diligently and faithfully hast thou watched,’ said the King,

`and thou shalt have the Princess and half the kingdom.’

 

So all was made ready for the wedding, and the King said that

it was to be so stately and magnificent that everyone should hear

of it, and everyone inquire about it.

 

But when they sat down to the marriage-feast, the bridegroom

arose and went down to the stable, for he said that he had forgotten

something which he must go and look to. When he got there, he

did what the foals had bidden him, and cut off the heads of all

the seven. First the eldest, and then the second, and so on according

to their age, and he was extremely careful to lay each head at

the tail of the foal to which it had belonged, and when that was

done, all the foals became princes again. When he returned to the

marriage-feast with the seven princes, the King was so joyful that

he both kissed Cinderlad and clapped him on the back, and his bride

was still more delighted with him than she had been before.

 

`Half my kingdom is thine already,’ said the King, `and the

other half shall be thine after my death, for my sons can get

countries and kingdoms for themselves now that they have become

princes again.’

 

Therefore, as all may well believe, there was joy and merriment

at that wedding.[31]

 

[31] From J. Moe.

THE MARVELLOUS MUSICIAN

THERE was once upon a time a marvellous musician. One day

he was wandering through a wood all by himself, thinking now

of one thing, now of another, till there was nothing else left to think

about. Then he said to himself:

 

`Time hangs very heavily on my hands when I’m all alone in

the wood. I must try and find a pleasant companion.’

 

So he took his fiddle out, and fiddled till he woke the echoes

round. After a time a wolf came through the thicket and trotted

up to the musician.

 

`Oh! it’s a Wolf, is it?’ said he. `I’ve not the smallest wish

for his society.’

 

But the Wolf approached him and said:

 

`Oh, my dear musician, how beautifully you play! I wish you’d

teach me how it’s done.’

 

`That’s easily learned,’ answered the fiddler; `you must only do

exactly as I tell you.’

 

`Of course I will,’ replied the Wolf. `I can promise that you

will find me a most apt pupil.’

 

So they joined company and went on their way together, and

after a time they came to an old oak tree, which was hollow and

had a crack in the middle of the trunk.

 

`Now,’ said the Musician, `if you want to learn to fiddle, here’s

your chance. Lay your front paws in this crack.’

 

The Wolf did as he was told, and the Musician quickly seized a

stone, and wedged both his fore paws so firmly into the crack that

he was held there, a fast prisoner.

 

`Wait there till I return,’ said the Fiddler, and he went on his

way.

 

After a time he said to himself again:

 

`Time hangs very heavily on my hands when I’m all alone in

the wood; I must try and find a companion.’

 

So he drew out his fiddle, and fiddled away lustily. Presently

a fox slunk through the trees.

 

`Aha I what have we here?’ said the Musician. `A fox; well,

I haven’t the smallest desire for his company.’

 

The Fox came straight up to him and said:

 

`My dear friend, how beautifully you play the fiddle; I would

like to learn how you do it.’

 

`Nothing easier,’ said the Musician. `if you’ll promise to do

exactly as I tell you.’

 

`Certainly,’ answered the Fox, `you have only to say the word.’

 

`Well, then, follow me,’ replied the Fiddler.

 

When they had gone a bi of the way, they came to a path with

high trees on each side. Here the Musician halted, bent a stout

hazel bough down to the ground from one side of the path, and put

his foot on the end of it to keep it down. Then he bent a branch