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LET’S CHAT ABOUT THE STORY ~ IDEAS FOR TALKING WITH KIDS

Self-Confidence

1. Kathy loves sheep herding and does not want to be a Princess. Why do you think people might want to be a Princess? Why might they not want to be a Princess?

2. Kathy makes the right decision for her. How can you tell, from reading the book, that she made the right decision?

Beauty

1. Do you think Princesses have to be “beautiful”? What does “beautiful” mean, in this story?

2. At the end of the story, all the girls and women in the kingdom are given Princess crowns. Do you think this means that all the girls and women were “beautiful”? How?

Bedtime Story for Kids written by Templeton Moss

Illustrated by Karina Shuba

Book design by Jade Maitre

Music Video by “Suonatore di Liuto” Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com), ”Village Consort” Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com) “Master of the Feast” Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com), ”Bushwick Tarantella” Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com), “Royal Coupling” Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com), Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 4.0 License http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

The post The Princess Who Wasn’t first appeared on Bedtime Stories.

The value of appreciating beauty

Enjoying beauty enables both aesthetic sensitivity and develop good taste. Another benefit of appreciating the beauty around us, is that our brain generates dopamine when faced with satisfactory stimuli. This helps our sense of well-being, heightens our feelings of gratitude and helps our minds stay active, curious and healthy. A child who notices the beauty around them will be more sensitive, will have a greater chance of appreciating the little things in life, and will be better able to handle moments of silence and tranquility.

Conveying wonder

We have all experienced the pleasure and positive emotions caused by watching a sunset, enjoying a work of art, or listening to a favourite song. We can easily share with kids the wonder of everyday life – the colours of a sunset, the shape of mountains or the sound of birds… these are free activities available to everyone.

What is meant by aesthetic appreciation?

Aesthetic appreciation is understood as loving with a sense of discernment, and of understanding what is special or extraordinary about the object of our interest. Appreciating beauty from a young age leads to the improvement of many qualities in children (physical and psychological) and can be seen as a vital part of the foundations of their future personality.

Where do I start?

Please read on…Storyberries provides free online children’s books, and parenting tips – offering lots of ways to encourage kids to appreciate the beauty around them, and to express their happiness and aesthetic appreciation creatively.

Enjoying and appreciating beauty ourselves

Children learn so much from the adults around them. When we are open, curious and appreciative, we pass these same values onto our kids.

Allowing time to simply explore

In early childhood, children have a simple vision of life, which is why in preschool they usually start with descriptions of shapes, colours, and the world they perceive through their senses. There is still no cognitive ability to abstract and interpret, so at this stage the important thing is to allow kids to explore.

Encourage kids to be creative

When given scope to express themselves, younger children (up to the age of nine) spontaneously use their imaginations in wonderful ways. We can encourage an enjoyment of beauty and aesthetic appreciation by giving kids lots of opportunities to participate in craft activities, music, dressing-up, acting and lots of reading. Remember too that unscheduled time is really important for kids – to relax and just be.

Attuning to growing passions and interests

Between the ages of 10 and 12, children are capable of complex mental processes involving logic and interpretation. They begin to have more precise ideas about the things that interest them. This is a really good time to have conversations about what they enjoy, and to look at finding further activities that will enrich their interests.

Enjoying the beauty around us.

Provide kids with experiences where they can see beauty for themselves. If we can take them to the countryside, or bring them closer to the sea, so much the better, but even in the city or town there is natural beauty to appreciate. We can also enjoy going to places where there are fine architectural works, or visit museums, many of which are interactive and very child-friendly.

Voicing aesthetic appreciation

Talk about objects that can be aesthetically evaluated in the presence of the children. For example, a drawing, a toy, a flower or a melody … Ask the children to reflect on why there are things that seem “pretty” to them and others not.

Order is one source of beauty: we can show children that a tidy room is more “beautiful” than a messy one … It is also healthy to show that we dislike some things, especially given that children are often exposed to the internet, where they have access to all kinds of images.

Finding beauty in each other

Reminding kids that beauty can be found within each human being is important – souls exude beauty by the coherence of thoughts and action, by particular ways of living and by the light that shines from within. Let’s not forget to teach that inner beauty is more fascinating than outer beauty.

You might find it helpful to read a story that helps children to understand the concept of inner beauty, The Ugly Duckling is a children’s story which describes beauty and how subjective it is.

 

Some Free Books About Beauty and Aesthetic Appreciation At Storyberries

Frog’s Starry Wish

A magical tale about a frog who delights at seeing the stars. Seeing the stars helps frog to connect with beauty and feelings of joy, and motivates him to fulfill his dreams.

Mama Chick’s New Easter Hat

When Mama Chick feels sad, her children work together to make a sunny, colourful hat to cheer her up. A beautiful reminder of the value of sharing happiness and appreciating the beauty around us. Mama Chick shows delight and appreciation for her beautiful new hat and her beautiful children.

Manu Mixes Clay and Sunshine

Children learn values from their elders and in this beautiful inter-generational story, Manu takes pride in learning from his father and grandfather. They show him how to make beautiful pottery using clay and the love of his heart. An excellent story for discussing artistic appreciation and family pride.

Odditorium

Take a journey into the world of surreal fine art, and aesthetic appreciation, with artist and children’s author Sue Clancy. Odditorium invites children (and adults) to bring their artistic imaginations to the everyday objects they see.

Article by Luzmery M. Romero Gamboa and Fleur Rodgers

Luzmery works in the area of clinical psychology as a psychotherapist for children, adolescents and families. Since 2016, she has run a Psychological Center in Venezuela called Psicoluz. She offers workshop facilitations to parents, is involved in recreational activities for children, and has been working as a freelancer since 2017 performing online psychotherapy. 

Fleur is a meditation teacher in France and uses a compassion and loving-kindness based approach to meditation and slow-minded living. Fleur posts regularly to Instagram @rodgers.fleur . She has two children, is a qualified teacher in adult education and is the founder of Timeouttobreathe.com 

The post Encouraging children to connect to the beauty around them first appeared on Bedtime Stories.

© Storyberries 2021

LET’S CHAT ABOUT THE STORY ~ IDEAS FOR TALKING WITH KIDS

Kindness

1. Why do you think the baby chicks wanted to cheer their Mama up when she is sad?

Beauty, Nature

1. Why do you think flowers can cheer someone up?

Short Story for Kids written by Andrea Kaczmarek

Illustrations by Jade Maitre, with elements from licensed purchases, Rawpixel and Pixabay.

Music Video from zapsplat.com

Mama Chick's New Easter Hat | Bedtime Stories | Free Kids Books

Mama Chick feels sad... luckily her little chicks are about to make her Easter a happy one!

URL: https://www.storyberries.com/bedtime-stories-mama-chicks-new-easter-hat-free-kids-books-online/

Author: Andrea Kaczmarek

Editor's Rating:
5

The post Mama Chick’s New Easter Hat first appeared on Bedtime Stories.

© Storyberries 2020

Let’s Chat About The Stories ~ Ideas for Talking With Kids

Self-Confidence, Beauty, Conversation

1. What do you love about the people you are close to? Can you think of some of the reasons why you love them?

2. What do you think is worth loving about yourself?

3. What do you think is the most important thing to love in ourselves and others? Why?

4. Do you think that love comes in all different shapes and sizes? What might this say about love?

Visit Storyberries Bookstore

Find more books about love for children!

Or read the complete Storyberries collection of books about love here:

Bedtime story written by Jade Maitre

Illustrated by Violet Lim

Violet Lim is a volunteer illustrator for Storyberries. If you love her work as we do, you can see her portfolio and get in touch with her at https://www.facebook.com/SincerelyViolet/ 

The post More Of Me To Love first appeared on Bedtime Stories.

This is a vintage fairy tale, and may contain violence. We would encourage parents to read beforehand  if your child is sensitive to such themes.

Once upon a time there was a King who was so morose and disagreeable that he was feared by all his subjects, and with good reason, as for the most trifling offences he would have them punished. This King Grumpy, as he was called, had one son, who was as different from his father as he could possibly be. No prince equalled him in cleverness and kindness of heart, but unfortunately he was most terribly ugly. He had crooked legs and squinting eyes, a large mouth all on one side, and a hunchback. Never was there a beautiful soul in such a frightful little body, but in spite of his appearance everybody loved him. The Queen, his mother, called him Curlicue, because it was a name she rather liked, and it seemed to suit him.

King Grumpy, who cared a great deal more for his own grandeur than for his son’s happiness, wished to betroth the Prince to the daughter of a neighbouring King, whose great estates joined his own, for he thought that this alliance would make him more powerful than ever, and as for the Princess she would do very well for Prince Curlicue, for she was as ugly as himself. Indeed, though she was the most amiable creature in the world, there was no concealing the fact that she was frightful, and so lame that she always went about with a crutch, and people called her Princess Cabbage-Stalk.

The King, having asked for and received a portrait of this Princess, had it placed in his great hall under a canopy, and sent for Prince Curlicue, to whom he said that as this was the portrait of his future bride, he hoped the Prince found it charming.

The Prince after one glance at it turned away with a disdainful air, which greatly offended his father.

‘Am I to understand that you are not pleased?’ he said very sharply.

‘No, sire,’ replied the Prince. ‘How could I be pleased to marry an ugly, lame Princess?’

‘Certainly it is becoming in YOU to object to that,’ said King Grumpy, ‘since you are ugly enough to frighten anyone yourself.’

‘That is the very reason,’ said the Prince, ‘that I wish to marry someone who is not ugly. I am quite tired enough of seeing myself.’

‘I tell you that you shall marry her,’ cried King Grumpy angrily.

And the Prince, seeing that it was of no use to remonstrate, bowed and retired.

As King Grumpy was not used to being contradicted in anything, he was very much displeased with his son, and ordered that he should be imprisoned in the tower that was kept on purpose for rebellious Princes, but had not been used for about two hundred years, because there had not been any. The Prince thought all the rooms looked strangely old-fashioned, with their antique furniture, but as there was a good library he was pleased, for he was very fond of reading, and he soon got permission to have as many books as he liked. But when he looked at them he found that they were written in a forgotten language, and he could not understand a single word, though he amused himself with trying.

King Grumpy was so convinced that Prince Curlicue would soon get tired of being in prison, and so consent to marry the Princess Cabbage-Stalk, that he sent ambassadors to her father proposing that she should come and be married to his son, who would make her perfectly happy.

The King was delighted to receive so good an offer for his unlucky daughter, though, to tell the truth, he found it impossible to admire the Prince’s portrait which had been sent to him. However, he had it placed in as favourable a light as possible, and sent for the Princess, but the moment she caught sight of it she looked the other way and began to cry.

The King, who was very much annoyed to see how greatly she disliked it, took a mirror, and holding it up before the unhappy Princess, said:

‘I see you do not think the Prince handsome, but look at yourself, and see if you have any right to complain about that.’

‘Sire,’ she answered, ‘I do not wish to complain, only I beg of you do not make me marry at all. I had rather be the unhappy Princess Cabbage-Stalk all my life than inflict the sight of my ugliness on anyone else.’

But the King would not listen to her, and sent her away with the ambassadors.

In the meantime the Prince was kept safely locked up in his tower, and, that he might be as dull as possible, King Grumpy ordered that no one should speak to him, and that they should give him next to nothing to eat. But all the Prince’s guards were so fond of him that they did everything they dared, in spite of the King, to make the time pass pleasantly.

One day, as the Prince was walking up and down the great gallery, thinking how miserable it was to be so ugly, and to be forced to marry an equally frightful Princess, he looked up suddenly and noticed that the painted windows were particularly bright and beautiful, and for the sake of doing something that would change his sad thoughts he began to examine them attentively. He found that the pictures seemed to be scenes from the life of a man who appeared in every window, and the Prince, fancying that he saw in this man some resemblance to himself, began to be deeply interested. In the first window there was a picture of him in one of the turrets of the tower, farther on he was seeking something in a chink in the wall, in the next picture he was opening an old cabinet with a golden key, and so it went on through numbers of scenes, and presently the Prince noticed that another figure occupied the most important place in each scene, and this time it was a tall handsome young man: poor Prince Curlicue found it a pleasure to look at him, he was so straight and strong. By this time it had grown dark, and the Prince had to go back to his own room, and to amuse himself he took up a quaint old book and began to look at the pictures. But his surprise was great to find that they represented the same scenes as the windows of the gallery, and what was more, that they seemed to be alive. In looking at pictures of musicians he saw their hands move and heard sweet sounds; there was a picture of a ball, and the Prince could watch the little dancing people come and go.

He turned a page, and there was an excellent smell of a savoury dinner, and one of the figures who sat at the feast looked at him and said:

‘We drink your health, Curlicue. Try to give us our Queen again, for if you do you will be rewarded; if not, it will be the worse for you.’

At these words the Prince, who had been growing more and more astonished, was fairly terrified, and dropping the book with a crash he sank back insensible. The noise he made brought his guards to his aid, and as soon as he revived they asked him what was the matter. He answered that he was so faint and giddy with hunger that he had imagined he saw and heard all sorts of strange things. Thereupon, in spite of the King’s orders, the guards gave him an excellent supper, and when he had eaten it he again opened his book, but could see none of the wonderful pictures, which convinced him that he must have been dreaming before.

However, when he went into he gallery next day and looked at the painted windows again, he found that they moved, and the figures came and went as if they had been alive, and after watching the one who was like himself find the key in the crack of the turret wall and open the old cabinet, he determined to go and examine the place himself, and try to find out what the mystery was. So he went up into the turret and began to search about and tap upon the walls, and all at once he came upon a place that sounded hollow. Taking a hammer he broke away a bit of the stone, and found behind it a little golden key.

The next thing to do was to find the cabinet, and the Prince soon came to it, hidden away in a dark corner, though indeed it was so old and battered-looking that he would never have noticed it of his own accord. At first he could not see any keyhole, but after a careful search he found one hidden in the carving, and the golden key just fitted it; so the Prince gave it a vigorous turn and the doors flew open.

Ugly and old as the cabinet was outside, nothing could have been more rich and beautiful than what met the Prince’s astonished eyes. Every drawer was made of crystal, of amber, or of some precious stone, and was quite full of every kind of treasure.

Prince Curlicue was delighted; he opened one after another, until at last he came to one tiny drawer which contained only an emerald key.

‘I believe that this must open that little golden door in the middle,’ said the Prince to himself. And he fitted in the little key and turned it. The tiny door swung back, and a soft crimson light gleamed over the whole cabinet. The Prince found that it proceeded from an immense glowing carbuncle, made into a box, which lay before him. He lost no time in opening it, but what was his horror when he found that it contained a man’s hand, which was holding a portrait.

His first thought was to put back the terrible box and fly from the turret; but a voice in his ear said, ‘This hand belonged to one whom you can help and restore. Look at this beautiful portrait, the original of which was the cause of all my misfortunes, and if you wish to help me, go without a moment’s delay to the great gallery, notice where the sun’s rays fall most brightly, and if you seek there you will find my treasure.’

The voice ceased, and though the Prince in his bewilderment asked various questions, he received no answer. So he put back the box and locked the cabinet up again, and, having replaced the key in the crack in the wall, hastened down to the gallery.

When he entered it all the windows shook and clattered in the strangest way, but the Prince did not heed them; he was looking so carefully for the place where the sun shone most brightly, and it seemed to him that it was upon the portrait of a most splendidly handsome young man.

He went up and examined it, and found that it rested against the ebony and gold panelling, just like any of the other pictures in the gallery. He was puzzled, not knowing what to do next, until it occurred to him to see if the windows would help him, and, looking at the nearest, he saw a picture of himself lifting the picture from the wall.

The Prince took the hint, and lifting aside the picture without difficulty, found himself in a marble hall adorned with statues; from this he passed on through numbers of splendid rooms, until at last he reached one all hung with blue gauze. The walls were of turquoises, and upon a low couch lay a lovely lady, who seemed to be asleep. Her hair, black as ebony, was spread across the pillows, making her face look ivory white, and the Prince noticed that she was unquiet; and when he softly advanced, fearing to wake her, he could hear her sigh, and murmur to herself:

‘Ah! how dared you think to win my love by separating me from my beloved Florimond, and in my presence cutting off that dear hand that even you should have feared and honoured?’

And then the tears rolled slowly down the lovely lady’s cheeks, and Prince Curlicue began to comprehend that she was under an enchantment, and that it was the hand of her lover that he had found.

At this moment a huge Eagle flew into the room, holding in its talons a Golden Branch, upon which were growing what looked like clusters of cherries, only every cherry was a single glowing ruby. This he presented to the Prince, who guessed by this time that he was in some way to break the enchantment that surrounded the sleeping lady. Taking the branch he touched her lightly with it, saying:

‘Fair one, I know not by what enchantment thou art bound, but in the name of thy beloved Florimond I conjure thee to come back to the life which thou hast lost, but not forgotten.’

Instantly the lady opened her lustrous eyes, and saw the Eagle hovering near.

‘Ah! stay, dear love, stay,’ she cried. But the Eagle, uttering a dolorous cry, fluttered his broad wings and disappeared. Then the lady turned to Prince Curlicue, and said:

‘I know that it is to you I owe my deliverance from an enchantment which has held me for two hundred years. If there is anything that I can do for you in return, you have only to tell me, and all my fairy power shall be used to make you happy.’

‘Madam,’ said Prince Curlicue, ‘I wish to be allowed to restore your beloved Florimond to his natural form, since I cannot forget the tears you shed for him.’

‘That is very amiable of you, dear Prince,’ said the Fairy, ‘but it is reserved for another person to do that. I cannot explain more at present. But is there nothing you wish for yourself?’

‘Madam,’ cried the Prince, flinging himself down at her feet, ‘only look at my ugliness. I am called Curlicue, and am an object of derision; I entreat you to make me less ridiculous.’

‘Rise, Prince,’ said the Fairy, touching him with the Golden Branch. ‘Be as accomplished as you are handsome, and take the name of Prince Peerless, since that is the only title which will suit you now.’

Silent from joy, the Prince kissed her hand to express his thanks, and when he rose and saw his new reflection in the mirrors which surrounded him, he understood that Curlicue was indeed gone for ever.

‘How I wish,’ said the Fairy, ‘that I dared to tell you what is in store for you, and warn you of the traps which lie in your path, but I must not. Fly from the tower, Prince, and remember that the Fairy Douceline will be your friend always.’

When she had finished speaking, the Prince, to his great astonishment, found himself no longer in the tower, but set down in a thick forest at least a hundred leagues away from it. And there we must leave him for the present, and see what was happening elsewhere.

When the guards found that the Prince did not ask for his supper as usual, they went into his room, and not finding him there, were very much alarmed, and searched the tower from turret to dungeon, but without success. Knowing that the King would certainly have them punished for allowing the Prince to escape, they then agreed to say that he was ill, and after making the smallest among them look as much like Prince Curlicue as possible, they put him into his bed and sent to inform the King.

King Grumpy was quite delighted to hear that his son was ill, for he thought that he would all the sooner be brought to do as he wished, and marry the Princess. So he sent back to the guards to say that the Prince was to be treated as severely as before, which was just what they had hoped he would say. In the meantime the Princess Cabbage-Stalk had reached the palace, travelling in a litter.

King Grumpy went out to meet her, but when he saw her, with a skin like a tortoise’s, her thick eyebrows meeting above her large nose, and her mouth from ear to ear, he could not help crying out:

‘Well, I must say Curlicue is ugly enough, but I don’t think YOU need have thought twice before consenting to marry him.’

‘Sire,’ she replied, ‘I know too well what I am like to be hurt by what you say, but I assure you that I have no wish to marry your son I had rather be called Princess Cabbage-Stalk than Queen Curlicue.’

This made King Grumpy very angry.

‘Your father has sent you here to marry my son,’ he said, ‘and you may be sure that I am not going to offend him by altering his arrangements.’

So the poor Princess was sent away in disgrace to her own apartments, and the ladies who attended upon her were charged to bring her to a better mind.

At this juncture the guards, who were in great fear that they would be found out, sent to tell the King that his son was dead, which annoyed him very much. He at once made up his mind that it was entirely the Princess’s fault, and gave orders that she should be imprisoned in the tower in Prince Curlicue’s place. The Princess Cabbage-Stalk was immensely astonished at this unjust proceeding, and sent many messages of remonstrance to King Grumpy, but he was in such a temper that no one dared to deliver them, or to send the letters which the Princess wrote to her father. However, as she did not know this, she lived in hope of soon going back to her own country, and tried to amuse herself as well as she could until the time should come.

Every day she walked up and down the long gallery, until she too was attracted and fascinated by the ever-changing pictures in the windows, and recognised herself in one of the figures. ‘They seem to have taken a great delight in painting me since I came to this country,’ she said to herself. ‘One would think that I and my crutch were put in on purpose to make that slim, charming young shepherdess in the next picture look prettier by contrast. Ah! how nice it would be to be as pretty as that.’ And then she looked at herself in a mirror, and turned away quickly with tears in her eyes from the doleful sight.

All at once she became aware that she was not alone, for behind her stood a tiny old woman in a cap, who was as ugly again as herself and quite as lame.

‘Princess,’ she said, ‘your regrets are so piteous that I have come to offer you the choice of goodness or beauty. If you wish to be pretty you shall have your way, but you will also be vain, capricious, and frivolous. If you remain as you are now, you shall be wise and amiable and modest.’

‘Alas I madam,’ cried the Princess, ‘is it impossible to be at once wise and beautiful?’

‘No, child,’ answered the old woman, ‘only to you it is decreed that you must choose between the two. See, I have brought with me my white and yellow muff. Breathe upon the yellow side and you will become like the pretty shepherdess you so much admire, and you will have won the love of the handsome shepherd whose picture I have already seen you studying with interest. Breathe upon the white side and your looks will not alter, but you will grow better and happier day by day. Now you may choose.’

‘Ah well,’ said the Princess, ‘I suppose one can’t have everything, and it’s certainly better to be good than pretty.’

And so she breathed upon the white side of the muff and thanked the old fairy, who immediately disappeared.

The Princess Cabbage-Stalk felt very forlorn when she was gone, and began to think that it was quite time her father sent an army to rescue her.

‘If I could but get up into the turret,’ she thought, ‘to see if any one is coming.’ But to climb up there seemed impossible.

Nevertheless she presently hit upon a plan. The great clock was in the turret, as she knew, though the weights hung down into the gallery. Taking one of them off the rope, she tied herself on in its place, and when the clock was wound, up she went triumphantly into the turret. She looked out over the country the first thing, but seeing nothing she sat down to rest a little, and accidentally leant back against the wall which Curlicue, or rather Prince Peerless, had so hastily mended. Out fell the broken stone, and with it the golden key.

The clatter it made upon the floor attracted the Princess Cabbage-Stalk’s attention. She picked it up, and after a moment’s consideration decided that it must belong to the curious old cabinet in the corner, which had no visible keyhole. And then it was not long before she had it open, and was admiring the treasures it contained as much as Prince Peerless had done before her, and at last she came to the carbuncle box. No sooner had she opened it than with a shudder of horror she tried to throw it down, but found that some mysterious power compelled her to hold it against her will. And at this moment a voice in her ear said softly:

‘Take courage, Princess; upon this adventure your future happiness depends.’

‘What am I to do?’ said the Princess trembling.

‘Take the box,’ replied the voice, ‘and hide it under your pillow, and when you see an Eagle, give it to him without losing a moment.’

Terrified as the Princess was, she did not hesitate to obey, and hastened to put back all the other precious things precisely as she had found them. By this time her guards were seeking her everywhere, and they were amazed to find her up in the turret, for they said she could only have got there by magic. For three days nothing happened, but at last in the night the Princess heard something flutter against her window, and drawing back her curtains she saw in the moonlight that it was an Eagle.

Limping across at her utmost speed she threw the window open, and the great Eagle sailed in beating with his wings for joy. The Princess lost no time in offering it the carbuncle box, which it grasped in its talons, and instantly disappeared, leaving in its place the most beautiful Prince she had ever seen, who was splendidly dressed, and wore a diamond crown.

‘Princess,’ said he, ‘for two hundred years has a wicked enchanter kept me here. We both loved the same Fairy, but she preferred me. However, he was more powerful than I, and succeeded, when for a moment I was off my guard, in changing me into an Eagle, while my Queen was left in an enchanted sleep. I knew that after two hundred years a Prince would recall her to the light of day, and a Princess, in restoring to me the hand which my enemy had cut off, would give me back my natural form. The Fairy who watches over your destiny told me this, and it was she who guided you to the cabinet in the turret, where she had placed my hand. It is she also who permits me to show my gratitude to you by granting whatever favour you may ask of me. Tell me, Princess, what is it that you wish for most? Shall I make you as beautiful as you deserve to be?’

‘Ah, if you only would!’ cried the Princess, and at the same moment she heard a crick-cracking in all her bones. She grew tall and straight and pretty, with eyes like shining stars, and skin as smooth as silk.

‘Oh, wonderful! can this really be my poor little self?’ she exclaimed, looking down in amazement at her tiny worn-out crutch as it lay upon the floor.

‘Indeed, Princess,’ replied Florimond, ‘it is yourself, but you must have a new name, since the old one does not suit you now. Be called Princess Sunbeam, for you are bright and charming enough to deserve the name.’

And so saying he disappeared, and the Princess, without knowing how she got there, found herself walking under shady trees by a clear river. Of course, the first thing she did was to look at her own reflection in the water, and she was extremely surprised to find that she was exactly like the shepherdess she had so much admired, and wore the same white dress and flowery wreath that she had seen in the painted windows. To complete the resemblance, her flock of sheep appeared, grazing round her, and she found a gay crook adorned with flowers upon the bank of the river. Quite tired out by so many new and wonderful experiences, the Princess sat down to rest at the foot of a tree, and there she fell fast asleep.

Now it happened that it was in this very country that Prince Peerless had been set down, and while the Princess Sunbeam was still sleeping peacefully, he came strolling along in search of a shady pasture for his sheep.

The moment he caught sight of the Princess he recognised her as the charming shepherdess whose picture he had seen so often in the tower, and as she was far prettier than he had remembered her, he was delighted that chance had led him that way.

He was still watching her admiringly when the Princess opened her eyes, and as she also recognised him they were soon great friends. The Princess asked Prince Peerless, as he knew the country better than she did, to tell her of some peasant who would give her a lodging, and he said he knew of an old woman whose cottage would be the very place for her, it was so nice and so pretty. So they went there together, and the Princess was charmed with the old woman and everything belonging to her.

Supper was soon spread for her under a shady tree, and she invited the Prince to share the cream and brown bread which the old woman provided. This he was delighted to do, and having first fetched from his own garden all the strawberries, cherries, nuts and flowers he could find. They sat down together and were very merry. After this they met every day as they guarded their flocks, and were so happy that Prince Peerless begged the Princess to marry him, so that they might never be parted again.

Now though the Princess Sunbeam appeared to be only a poor shepherdess, she never forgot that she was a real Princess, and she was not at all sure that she ought to marry a humble shepherd, though she knew she would like to do so very much.
So she resolved to consult an Enchanter of whom she had heard a great deal since she had been a shepherdess, and without saying a word to anybody she set out to find the castle in which he lived with his sister, who was a powerful Fairy. The way was long, and lay through a thick wood, where the Princess heard strange voices calling to her from every side, but she was in such a hurry that she stopped for nothing, and at last she came to the courtyard of the Enchanter’s castle.

The grass and briers were growing as high as if it were a hundred years since anyone had set foot there, but the Princess got through at last, though she gave herself a good many scratches by the way, and then she went into a dark, gloomy hall, where there was but one tiny hole in the wall through which the daylight could enter. The hangings were all of bats’ wings, and from the ceiling hung twelve cats, who filled the hall with their ear piercing yells. Upon the long table twelve mice were fastened by the tail, and just in front of each one’s nose, but quite beyond its reach, lay a tempting morsel of fat bacon. So the cats could always see the mice, but could not touch them, and the hungry mice were tormented by the sight and smell of the delicious morsels which they could never seize.

The Princess was looking at the poor creatures in dismay, when the Enchanter suddenly entered, wearing a long black robe and with a crocodile upon his head. In his hand he carried a whip made of twenty long snakes, all alive and writhing, and the Princess was so terrified at the sight that she heartily wished she had never come. Without saying a word she ran to the door, but it was covered with a thick spider’s web, and when she broke it she found another, and another, and another. In fact, there was no end to them; the Princess’s arms ached with tearing them down, and yet she was no nearer to getting out, and the wicked Enchanter behind her laughed maliciously. At last he said:

‘You might spend the rest of your life over that without doing any good, but as you are young, and quite the prettiest creature I have seen for a long time, I will marry you if you like, and I will give you those cats and mice that you see there for your own. They are princes and princesses who have happened to offend me. They used to love one another as much as they now hate one another. Aha! It’s a pretty little revenge to keep them like that.’

‘Oh! If you would only change me into a mouse too,’ cried the Princess.

‘Oh! so you won’t marry me?’ said he. ‘Little simpleton, you should have everything heart can desire.’

‘No, indeed; nothing should make me marry you; in fact, I don’t think I shall ever love anyone,’ cried the Princess.

‘In that case,’ said the Enchanter, touching her, ‘you had better become a particular kind of creature that is neither fish nor fowl; you shall be light and airy, and as green as the grass you live in. Off with you, Madam Grasshopper.’ And the Princess, rejoicing to find herself free once more, skipped out into the garden, the prettiest little green Grasshopper in the world.

But as soon as she was safely out she began to be rather sorry for herself. ‘Ah! Florimond,’ she sighed, ‘is this the end of your gift? Certainly beauty is short-lived, and this funny little face and a green crape dress are a comical end to it. I had better have married my amiable shepherd. It must be for my pride that I am condemned to be a Grasshopper, and sing day and night in the grass by this brook, when I feel far more inclined to cry.’

In the meantime Prince Peerless had discovered the Princess’s absence, and was lamenting over it by the river’s brim, when he suddenly became aware of the presence of a little old woman. She was quaintly dressed in a ruff and farthingale, and a velvet hood covered her snow-white hair.

‘You seem sorrowful, my son,’ she said. ‘What is the matter?’

‘Alas! mother,’ answered the Prince, ‘I have lost my sweet shepherdess, but I am determined to find her again, though I should have to traverse the whole world in search of her.’

‘Go that way, my son,’ said the old woman, pointing towards the path that led to the castle. ‘I have an idea that you will soon overtake her.’

The Prince thanked her heartily and set out. As he met with no hindrance, he soon reached the enchanted wood which surrounded the castle, and there he thought he saw the Princess Sunbeam gliding before him among the trees. Prince Peerless hastened after her at the top of his speed, but could not get any nearer; then he called to her:

‘Sunbeam, my darling—only wait for me a moment.’

But the phantom did but fly the faster, and the Prince spent the whole day in this vain pursuit. When night came he saw the castle before him all lighted up, and as he imagined that the Princess must be in it, he made haste to get there too. He entered without difficulty, and in the hall the terrible old Fairy met him. She was so thin that the light shone through her, and her eyes glowed like lamps; her skin was like a shark’s, her arms were thin as laths, and her fingers like spindles. Nevertheless she wore rouge and patches, a mantle of silver brocade and a crown of diamonds, and her dress was covered with jewels, and green and pink ribbons.

‘At last you have come to see me, Prince,’ said she. ‘Don’t waste another thought upon that little shepherdess, who is unworthy of your notice. I am the Queen of the Comets, and can bring you to great honour if you will marry me.’

‘Marry you, Madam,’ cried the Prince, in horror. ‘No, I will never consent to that.’

Thereupon the Fairy, in a rage, gave two strokes of her wand and filled the gallery with horrible goblins, against whom the Prince had to fight for his life. Though he had only his dagger, he defended himself so well that he escaped without any harm, and presently the old Fairy stopped the fray and asked the Prince if he was still of the same mind. When he answered firmly that he was, she called up the appearance of the Princess Sunbeam to the other end of the gallery, and said:

‘You see your beloved there? Take care what you are about, for if you again refuse to marry me she shall be torn in pieces by two tigers.’

The Prince was distracted, for he fancied he heard his dear shepherdess weeping and begging him to save her. In despair he cried:

‘Oh, Fairy Douceline, have you abandoned me after so many promises of friendship? Help, help us now!’

Immediately a soft voice said in his ear:

‘Be firm, happen what may, and seek the Golden Branch.’

Thus encouraged, the Prince persevered in his refusal, and at length the old Fairy in a fury cried:

‘Get out of my sight, obstinate Prince. Become a Cricket!’

And instantly the handsome Prince Peerless became a poor little black Cricket, whose only idea would have been to find himself a cosy cranny behind some blazing hearth, if he had not luckily remembered the Fairy Douceline’s injunction to seek the Golden Branch.

So he hastened to depart from the fatal castle, and sought shelter in a hollow tree, where he found a forlorn looking little Grasshopper crouching in a corner, too miserable to sing.

Without in the least expecting an answer, the Prince asked it:

‘And where may you be going, Gammer Grasshopper?’

‘Where are you going yourself, Gaffer Cricket?’ replied the Grasshopper.

‘What! can you speak?’ said he.

‘Why should I not speak as well as you? Isn’t a Grasshopper as good as a Cricket?’ said she.

‘I can talk because I was a Prince,’ said the Cricket.

‘And for that very same reason I ought to be able to talk more than you, for I was a Princess,’ replied the Grasshopper.

‘Then you have met with the same fate as I have,’ said he. ‘But where are you going now? Cannot we journey together?’

‘I seemed to hear a voice in the air which said: “Be firm, happen what may, and seek the Golden Branch,”’ answered the Grasshopper, ‘and I thought the command must be for me, so I started at once, though I don’t know the way.’

At this moment their conversation was interrupted by two mice, who, breathless from running, flung themselves headlong through the hole into the tree, nearly crushing the Grasshopper and the Cricket, though they got out of the way as fast as they could and stood up in a dark corner.

‘Ah, Madam,’ said the fatter of the two, ‘I have such a pain in my side from running so fast. How does your Highness find yourself?’

‘I have pulled my tail off,’ replied the younger Mouse, ‘but as I should still be on the sorcerer’s table unless I had, I do not regret it. Are we pursued, think you? How lucky we were to escape!’

‘I only trust that we may escape cats and traps, and reach the Golden Branch soon,’ said the fat Mouse.

‘You know the way then?’ said the other.

‘Oh dear, yes! as well as the way to my own house, Madam. This Golden Branch is indeed a marvel, a single leaf from it makes one rich for ever. It breaks enchantments, and makes all who approach it young and beautiful. We must set out for it at the break of day.’

‘May we have the honour of travelling with you—this respectable Cricket and myself?’ said the Grasshopper, stepping forward. ‘We also are on a pilgrimage to the Golden Branch.’

The Mice courteously assented, and after many polite speeches the whole party fell asleep. With the earliest dawn they were on their way, and though the Mice were in constant fear of being overtaken or trapped, they reached the Golden Branch in safety.

It grew in the midst of a wonderful garden, all the paths of which were strewn with pearls as big as peas. The roses were crimson diamonds, with emerald leaves. The pomegranates were garnets, the marigolds topazes, the daffodils yellow diamonds, the violets sapphires, the corn-flowers turquoises, the tulips amethysts, opals and diamonds, so that the garden borders blazed like the sun. The Golden Branch itself had become as tall as a forest tree, and sparkled with ruby cherries to its topmost twig.

No sooner had the Grasshopper and the Cricket touched it than they were restored to their natural forms, and their surprise and joy were great when they recognised each other. At this moment Florimond and the Fairy Douceline appeared in great splendour, and the Fairy, as she descended from her chariot, said with a smile:

‘So you two have found one another again, I see, but I have still a surprise left for you. Don’t hesitate, Princess, to tell your devoted shepherd how dearly you love him, as he is the very Prince your father sent you to marry. So come here both of you and let me crown you, and we will have the wedding at once.’

The Prince and Princess thanked her with all their hearts, and declared that to her they owed all their happiness, and then the two Princesses, who had so lately been Mice, came and begged that the Fairy would use her power to release their unhappy friends who were still under the Enchanter’s spell.

‘Really,’ said the Fairy Douceline, ‘on this happy occasion I cannot find it in my heart to refuse you anything.’ And she gave three strokes of her wand upon the Golden Branch, and immediately all the prisoners in the Enchanter’s castle found themselves free, and came with all speed to the wonderful garden, where one touch of the Golden Branch restored each one to his natural form, and they greeted one another with many rejoicings. To complete her generous work the Fairy presented them with the wonderful cabinet and all the treasures it contained, which were worth at least ten kingdoms. But to Prince Peerless and the Princess Sunbeam she gave the palace and garden of the Golden Branch, where, immensely rich and greatly beloved by all their subjects, they lived happily ever after.

FRENCH FAIRY TALES BY COUNTESS D’AULNOY

LET’S CHAT ABOUT THE STORIES ~ IDEAS FOR TALKING WITH KIDS

Beauty

1. The Prince Curlicue and Princess Cabbage-Stalk are perceived as ugly because they look a certain way to the people around them. But everyone agrees that they are beautiful inside. Do you think it is possible to be ugly if you are beautiful inside?

2. What do you think it means to be beautiful?

3. Princess Cabbage-Stalk is given the choice to be beautiful on the outside, but ugly inside, or to remain as she is. What would you have chosen if you were the Princess Cabbage-Stalk? Why?

The post The Golden Branch first appeared on Bedtime Stories.

This is a vintage fairy tale, and may contain violence. We would encourage parents to read beforehand  if your child is sensitive to such themes.

Once upon a time, in the reign of King Cambrinus, there lived at Avesnes one of his lords, who was the finest man—by which I mean the fattest—in the whole country of Flanders. He ate four meals a day, slept twelve hours out of the twenty-four, and the only thing he ever did was to shoot at small birds with his bow and arrow.

Still, with all his practice he shot very badly, he was so fat and heavy, and as he grew daily fatter, he was at last obliged to give up walking, and be dragged about by others, and the people made fun of him, and gave him the name of my Lord Tubby.

Now, the only trouble that Lord Tubby had was about his son, whom he loved very much, although they were not in the least alike, for the young Prince was as thin as a cuckoo. And what vexed him more than all was, that though the young ladies throughout all his lands did their best to make the Prince fall in love with them, he would have nothing to say to any of them, and told his father he did not wish to marry.

Instead of chatting with them in the dusk, he wandered about the woods, whispering to the moon. No wonder the young ladies thought him very odd, but they liked him all the better for that; and as he had received at his birth the name of Desire, they all called him d’Amour Desire.

‘What is the matter with you?’ his father often said to him. ‘You have everything you can possibly wish for: a good bed, good food, and tuns full of beer. The only thing you want, in order to become as fat as a pig, is a wife that can bring you broad, rich lands. So marry, and you will be perfectly happy.’

‘I ask nothing better than to marry,’ replied Desire, ‘but I have never seen a woman that pleases me. All the girls here are pink and white, and I am tired to death of their eternal lily and roses. There must be women somewhere in the world who are neither pink nor white, and I tell you, once and for all, that I will never marry until I have found one exactly to my taste.’

Some time afterwards, it happened that the Prior of the Abbey of Saint Amand sent to the Lord of Avesnes a basket of oranges, with a beautifully-written letter saying that these golden fruit, then unknown in Flanders, came straight from a land where the sun always shone.
That evening Tubby and his son ate the golden apples at supper, and thought them delicious.

Next morning as the day dawned, Desire went down to the stable and saddled his pretty white horse. Then he went, all dressed for a journey, to the bedside of Tubby, and found him smoking his first pipe.

‘Father,’ he said gravely, ‘I have come to bid you farewell. Last night I dreamed that I was walking in a wood, where the trees were covered with golden apples. I gathered one of them, and when I opened it there came out a lovely princess with golden skin. That is the wife I want, and I am going to look for her.’

The young man took his father’s hand, kissed it tenderly, opened the door, and in the twinkling of an eye was as at the bottom of the staircase. He jumped lightly on his horse, and soon was a mile from home.

The servants mounted their horses and rode after the Prince; but as they did not know which road he had taken, they went all ways except the right one, and instead of bringing him back they returned themselves when it grew dark, with their horses worn out and covered with dust.

When Desire thought they could no longer catch him, he pulled his horse into a walk, like a prudent man who knows he has far to go. He travelled in this way for many weeks, passing by villages, towns, mountains, valleys, and plains, but always pushing south, where every day the sun seemed hotter and more brilliant.

At last one day at sunset Desire felt the sun so warm, that he thought he must now be near the place of his dream. He was at that moment close to the corner of a wood where stood a little hut, before the door of which his horse stopped of his own accord. An old man with a white beard was sitting on the doorstep enjoying the fresh air. The Prince got down from his horse and asked leave to rest.

‘Come in, my young friend,’ said the old man; ‘my house is not large, but it is big enough to hold a stranger.’

The traveller entered, and his host put before him a simple meal. When his hunger was satisfied the old man said to him:

‘If I do not mistake, you come from far. May I ask where you are going?’

‘I will tell you,’ answered Desire, ‘though most likely you will laugh at me. I dreamed that in the land of the sun there was a wood full of orange trees, and that in one of the oranges I should find a beautiful princess who is to be my wife. It is she I am seeking.’

‘Why should I laugh?’ asked the old man. ‘Madness in youth is true wisdom. Go, young man, follow your dream, and if you do not find the happiness that you seek, at any rate you will have had the happiness of seeking it.’

The next day the Prince arose early and took leave of his host.

‘The wood that you saw in your dream is not far from here,’ said the old man. ‘It is in the depth of the forest, and this road will lead you there. You will come to a vast park surrounded by high walls. In the middle of the park is a castle, where dwells a horrible witch who allows no living being to enter the doors. Behind the castle is the orange grove. Follow the wall till you come to a heavy iron gate. Don’t try to press it open, but oil the hinges with this,’ and the old man gave him a small bottle.

‘The gate will open of itself,’ he continued, ‘and a huge dog which guards the castle will come to you with his mouth wide open, but just throw him this oat cake. Next, you will see a baking woman leaning over her heated oven. Give her this brush. Lastly, you will find a well on your left; do not forget to take the cord of the bucket and spread it in the sun. When you have done this, do not enter the castle, but go round it and enter the orange grove. Then gather three oranges, and get back to the gate as fast as you can. Once out of the gate, leave the forest by the opposite side.

‘Now, attend to this: whatever happens, do not open your oranges till you reach the bank of a river, or a fountain. Out of each orange will come a princess, and you can choose which you like for your wife. Your choice once made, be very careful never to leave your bride for an instant, and remember that the danger which is most to be feared is never the danger we are most afraid of.’

Desire thanked his host warmly, and took the road he pointed out. In less than an hour he arrived at the wall, which was very high indeed.

He sprang to the ground, fastened his horse to a tree, and soon found the iron gate. Then he took out his bottle and oiled the hinges, when the gate opened of itself, and he saw an old castle standing inside. The Prince entered boldly into the courtyard.

Suddenly he heard fierce howls, and a dog as tall as a donkey, with eyes like billiard balls, came towards him, showing his teeth, which were like the prongs of a fork. Desire flung him the oat cake, which the great dog instantly snapped up, and the young Prince passed quietly on.

A few yards further he saw a huge oven, with a wide, red-hot gaping mouth. A woman as tall as a giant was leaning over the oven. Desire gave her the brush, which she took in silence.

Then he went on to the well, drew up the cord, which was half rotten, and stretched it out in the sun.

Lastly he went round the castle, and plunged into the orange grove. There he gathered the three most beautiful oranges he could find, and turned to go back to the gate.

But just at this moment the sun was darkened, the earth trembled, and Desire heard a voice crying:

‘Baker, baker, take him by his feet, and throw him into the oven!’

‘No,’ replied the baker; ‘a long time has passed since I first began to scour this oven with my own flesh. You never cared to give me a brush; but he has given me one, and he shall go in peace.’

‘Dog, my good dog,’ cried the voice. ‘Jump at his throat and eat him up.’

‘No,’ replied the dog; ‘though I have served you long, you never gave me any bread. He has given me as much as I want. Let him go in peace.’

‘Iron gate, iron gate,’ cried the voice, growling like thunder, ‘fall on him and grind him to powder.’

‘No,’ replied the gate; ‘it is a hundred years since you left me to rust, and he has oiled me. Let him go in peace.’

Once outside, the young adventurer put his oranges into a bag that hung from his saddle, mounted his horse, and rode quickly out of the forest.

Now, as he was longing to see the princesses, he was very anxious to come to a river or a fountain, but, though he rode for hours, a river or fountain was nowhere to be seen. Still his heart was light, for he felt that he had got through the most difficult part of his task, and the rest was easy.

About mid-day he reached a sandy plain, scorching in the sun. Here he was seized with dreadful thirst; he took his gourd and raised it to his lips. But the gourd was empty; in the excitement of his joy he had forgotten to fill it. He rode on, struggling with his sufferings, but at last he could bear it no longer.

He let himself slide to the earth, and lay down beside his horse, his throat burning, his chest heaving, and his head going round. Already he felt that death was near him, when his eyes fell on the bag where the oranges peeped out.

Poor Desire, who had braved so many dangers to win the lady of his dreams, would have given at this moment all the princesses in the world, were they pink or golden, for a single drop of water.

‘Ah!’ he said to himself. ‘If only these oranges were real fruit—fruit as refreshing as what I ate in Flanders! And, after all, who knows?’

This idea put some life into him. He had the strength to lift himself up and put his hand into his bag. He drew out an orange and opened it with his knife.

Out of it flew the prettiest little female canary that ever was seen.

‘Give me something to drink, I am dying of thirst,’ said the golden bird.

‘Wait a minute,’ replied Desire, so much astonished that he forgot his own sufferings; and to satisfy the bird he took a second orange, and opened it without thinking what he was doing. Out of it flew another canary, and she too began to cry:

‘I am dying of thirst; give me something to drink.’

Then Tubby’s son saw his folly, and while the two canaries flew away he sank on the ground, where, exhausted by his last effort, he lay unconscious.

When he came to himself, he had a pleasant feeling of freshness all about him. It was night, the sky was sparkling with stars, and the earth was covered with a heavy dew.

The traveller having recovered, mounted his horse, and at the first streak of dawn he saw a stream dancing in front of him, and stooped down and drank his fill.

He hardly had courage to open his last orange. Then he remembered that the night before he had disobeyed the orders of the old man. Perhaps his terrible thirst was a trick of the cunning witch, and suppose, even though he opened the orange on the banks of the stream, that he did not find in it the princess that he sought?

He took his knife and cut it open. Alas! out of it flew a little canary, just like the others, who cried:

‘I am thirsty; give me something to drink.’

Great was the disappointment of Desire. However, he was determined not to let this bird fly away; so he took up some water in the palm of his hand and held it to its beak.

Scarcely had the canary drunk when she became a beautiful girl, tall and straight as a poplar tree, with black eyes and a golden skin. Desire had never seen anyone half so lovely, and he stood gazing at her in delight. On her side she seemed quite bewildered, but she looked about her with happy eyes, and was not at all afraid of her deliverer.

He asked her name. She answered that she was called the Princess Zizi; for ten years the witch had kept her shut up in an orange, in the shape of a canary.

‘Well, then, my charming Zizi,’ said the young Prince, who was longing to marry her, ‘let us ride away quickly so as to escape from the wicked witch.’

But Zizi wished to know where he meant to take her.

‘To my father’s castle,’ he said.

He mounted his horse and took her in front of him, and, holding her carefully in his arms, they began their journey.

Everything the Princess saw was new to her, and in passing through mountains, valleys, and towns, she asked a thousand questions. Desire was charmed to answer them. It is so delightful to teach those one loves!

Once she inquired what the girls in his country were like.

‘They are pink and white,’ he replied, ‘and their eyes are blue.’

‘Do you like blue eyes?’ said the Princess; but Desire thought it was a good opportunity to find out what was in her heart, so he did not answer.

‘And no doubt,’ went on the Princess, ‘one of them is your intended bride?’

Still he was silent, and Zizi drew herself up proudly.

‘No,’ he said at last. ‘None of the girls of my own country are beautiful in my eyes, and that is why I came to look for a wife in the land of the sun. Was I wrong, my lovely Zizi?’

This time it was Zizi’s turn to be silent.

Talking in this way they drew near to the castle. When they were about four stone-throws from the gates they dismounted in the forest, by the edge of a fountain.

‘My dear Zizi,’ said Tubby’s son, ‘we cannot present ourselves before my father like two common people who have come back from a walk. We must enter the castle with more ceremony. Wait for me here, and in an hour I will return with carriages and horses fit for a princess.’

‘Don’t be long,’ replied Zizi, and she watched him go with wistful eyes.

When she was left by herself the poor girl began to feel afraid. She was alone for the first time in her life, and in the middle of a thick forest.
Suddenly she heard a noise among the trees. Fearing lest it should be a wolf, she hid herself in the hollow trunk of a willow tree which hung over the fountain. It was big enough to hold her altogether, but she peeped out, and her pretty head was reflected in the clear water.

Then there appeared, not a wolf, but a creature quite as wicked and quite as ugly. Let us see who this creature was.

Not far from the fountain there lived a family of bricklayers. Now, fifteen years before this time, the father in walking through the forest found a little girl, who had been deserted by her parents. He carried her home to his wife, and the good woman was sorry for her, and brought her up with her own sons. As she grew older, the little girl became much more remarkable for strength and cunning than for sense or beauty. As she was always being teased, she got as noisy and cross as a titmouse. So they used to call her Titty.

Titty was often sent by the bricklayer to fetch water from the fountain, and as she was very proud and lazy the girl disliked this very much.
It was she who had frightened Zizi by appearing with her pitcher on her shoulder. Just as she was stooping to fill it, she saw reflected in the water the lovely image of the Princess.

‘What a pretty face!’ she exclaimed, ‘Why, it must be mine! How in the world can they call me ugly? I am certainly much too pretty to be their water carrier!’

So saying, she broke her pitcher and went home.

‘Where is your pitcher?’ asked the bricklayer.

‘Well, what do you expect? The pitcher may go many times to the well….’

‘But at last it is broken. Well, here is a bucket that will not break.’

The girl returned to the fountain, and addressing once more the image of Zizi, she said:

‘No; I don’t mean to be a beast of burden any longer.’ And she flung the bucket so high in the air that it stuck in the branches of an oak.

‘I met a wolf,’ she told the bricklayer, ‘and I broke the bucket across his nose.’

The bricklayer asked her no more questions, but took down a broom and gave her such a beating that her pride was humbled a little. Then he handed to her an old copper milk-can, and said:

‘If you don’t bring it back full, your bones shall suffer for it.’

Titty went off rubbing her sides; but this time she did not dare to disobey, and in a very bad temper stooped down over the well. It was not at all easy to fill the milk-can, which was large and round. It would not go down into the well, and the girl had to try again and again. At last her arms grew so tired that when she did manage to get the can properly under the water she had no strength to pull it up, and it rolled to the bottom.

On seeing the can disappear, she made such a miserable face that Zizi, who had been watching her all this time, burst into fits of laughter.

Titty turned round and perceived the mistake she had made; and she felt so angry that she made up her mind to be revenged at once.

‘What are you doing there, you lovely creature?’ she said to Zizi.

‘I am waiting for my lover,’ Zizi replied; and then, with a simplicity quite natural in a girl who so lately had been a canary, she told all her story.

The gypsy had often seen the young Prince pass by, with his gun on his shoulder, when he was going after crows. She was too ugly and ragged for him ever to have noticed her, but Titty on her side had admired him, though she thought he might well have been a little fatter.

‘Dear, dear!’ she said to herself. And then she thought of a plan. ‘What!’ cried the sly Titty, ‘they are coming with great pomp to fetch you, and you are not afraid to show yourself to so many fine lords and ladies with your hair down like that? Get down at once, my poor child, and let me dress your hair for you!’

The innocent Zizi came down at once, and stood by Titty. The gypsy began to comb her long brown locks, when suddenly she drew a pin from her stays, and, just as the titmouse digs its beak into the heads of linnets and larks, Titty dug the pin into the head of Zizi.

No sooner did Zizi feel the prick of the pin than she became a bird again, and, spreading her wings, she flew away.

‘That was neatly done,’ said the girl. ‘The Prince will be clever if he finds his bride.’ And, arranging her dress, she seated herself on the grass to await Desire.

Meanwhile the Prince was coming as fast as his horse could carry him. He was so impatient that he was always full fifty yards in front of the lords and ladies sent by Tubby to bring back Zizi.

At the sight of the hideous girl who sat there instead of Zizi, he was struck dumb with surprise and horror.

‘Ah me!’ said Titty, ‘so you don’t know your poor Zizi? While you were away the wicked witch came, and turned me into this. But if you only have the courage to marry me I shall get back my beauty.’ And she began to cry bitterly.

Now the good-natured Desire was as soft-hearted as he was brave.

‘Poor girl,’ he thought to himself. ‘It is not her fault, after all, that she has grown so ugly, it is mine. Oh! why did I not follow the old man’s advice? Why did I leave her alone? And besides, it depends on me to break the spell, and I love her too much to let her remain like this.’

So he presented the gypsy to the lords and ladies of the Court, explaining to them the terrible misfortune which had befallen his beautiful bride. They all pretended to believe it, and the ladies at once put on the false princess the rich dresses they had brought for Zizi. She was then perched on the top of a magnificent ambling palfrey, and they set forth to the castle.

But unluckily the rich dress and jewels only made Titty look uglier still, and Desire could not help feeling hot and uncomfortable when he made his entry with her into the city. Bells were pealing, chimes ringing, and the people filling the streets and standing at their doors to watch the procession go by, and they could hardly believe their eyes as they saw what a strange bride their Prince had chosen.

In order to do her more honour, Tubby came to meet her at the foot of the great marble staircase. At the sight of the hideous creature he almost fell backwards.

‘What!’ he cried. ‘Is this the wonderful beauty?’

‘Yes, father, it is she,’ replied Desire with a sheepish look. ‘But she has been bewitched by a wicked sorceress, and will not regain her beauty until she is my wife.’

‘Does she say so? Well, if you believe that, you may drink cold water and think it bacon,’ the unhappy Tubby answered crossly.

But all the same, as he adored his son, he gave the gypsy his hand and led her to the great hall, where the bridal feast was spread.

The feast was excellent, but Desire hardly touched anything. However, to make up, the other guests ate greedily, and, as for Tubby, nothing ever took away his appetite.

When the moment arrived to serve the roast goose, there was a pause, and Tubby took the opportunity to lay down his knife and fork for a little. But as the goose gave no sign of appearing, he sent his head carver to find out what was the matter in the kitchen.

Now this was what had happened.

While the goose was turning on the spit, a beautiful little canary hopped on to the sill of the open window.

‘Good-morning, my fine cook,’ she said in a silvery voice to the man who was watching the roast.

‘Good-morning, lovely golden bird,’ replied the chief of the scullions, who had been well brought up.

‘I pray that Heaven may send you to sleep,’ said the golden bird, ‘and that the goose may burn, so that there may be none left for Titty.’

And instantly the chief of the scullions fell fast asleep, and the goose was burnt to a cinder.

When he awoke he was horrified, and gave orders to pluck another goose, to stuff it with chestnuts, and put it on the spit.

While it was browning at the fire, Tubby inquired for his goose a second time. The Master Cook himself mounted to the hall to make his excuses, and to beg his lord to have a little patience. Tubby showed his patience by abusing his son.

‘As if it wasn’t enough,’ he grumbled between his teeth, ‘that the boy should pick up a hag without a penny, but the goose must go and burn now. It isn’t a wife he has brought me, it is Famine herself.’

While the Master Cook was upstairs, the golden bird came again to perch on the window-sill, and called in his clear voice to the head scullion, who was watching the spit:

‘Good-morning, my fine Scullion!’

‘Good-morning, lovely Golden Bird,’ replied the Scullion, whom the Master Cook had forgotten in his excitement to warn.

‘I pray Heaven,’ went on the Canary, ‘that it will send you to sleep, and that the goose may burn, so that there may be none left for Titty.’

And the Scullion fell fast asleep, and when the Master Cook came back he found the goose as black as the chimney.

In a fury he woke the Scullion, who in order to save himself from blame told the whole story.

‘That accursed bird,’ said the Cook; ‘it will end by getting me sent away. Come, some of you, and hide yourselves, and if it comes again, catch it and wring its neck.’

He spitted a third goose, lit a huge fire, and seated himself by it.

The bird appeared a third time, and said: ‘Good-morning, my fine Cook.’

‘Good-morning, lovely Golden Bird,’ replied the Cook, as if nothing had happened, and at the moment that the Canary was beginning, ‘I pray Heaven that it may send,’ a scullion who was hidden outside rushed out and shut the shutters. The bird flew into the kitchen. Then all the cooks and scullions sprang after it, knocking at it with their aprons. At length one of them caught it just at the very moment that Tubby entered the kitchen, waving his sceptre. He had come to see for himself why the goose had never made its appearance. The Scullion stopped at once.

‘Will some one be kind enough to tell me the meaning of all this?’ cried the Lord of Avesnes.

‘Your Excellency, it is the bird,’ replied the Scullion, and he placed it in his hand.

‘Nonsense! What a lovely bird!’ said Tubby, and in stroking its head he touched a pin that was sticking between its feathers. He pulled it out, and lo! the Canary at once became a beautiful girl with a golden skin who jumped lightly to the ground.

‘Gracious! what a pretty girl!’ said Tubby.

‘Father! it is she! it is Zizi!’ exclaimed Desire, who entered at this moment.

And he took her in his arms, crying: ‘My darling Zizi, how happy I am to see you once more!’

‘Well, and the other one?’ asked Tubby.

The other one was stealing quietly to the door.

‘Stop her! called Tubby. ‘We will judge her cause at once.’

And he seated himself solemnly on the oven, and condemned Titty. After which the lords and cooks formed themselves in lines, and Tubby betrothed Desire to Zizi.

The marriage took place a few days later. All the boys in the country side were there, armed with wooden swords, and decorated with epaulets made of gilt paper.

Zizi obtained Titty’s pardon, and she was sent back to the brick-fields, followed and hooted at forevermore.

On the evening of the wedding-day all the larders, cellars, cupboards and tables of the people, whether rich or poor, were loaded as if by enchantment with bread, wine, beer, cakes and tarts, roast larks, and even geese, so that Tubby could not complain any more that his son had married Famine.

Since that time there has always been plenty to eat in that country, and since that time, too, you see in the midst of the fair-haired blue-eyed women of Flanders a few beautiful girls, whose eyes are black and whose skins are the colour of gold. They are the descendants of Zizi.

FAIRY TALES WRITTEN BY THE BROTHERS GRIMM

LET’S CHAT ABOUT THE STORIES ~ IDEAS FOR TALKING WITH KIDS

Beauty, Love

1. This story shows how there are many different kinds of people who live in the world.  For example, in this fairy tale there are pink and white women who live in Desire’s kingdom, and golden-skinned women who live in warmer lands. Tubby is fat, and Desire is thin. How do you think our differences make the world a better place?

2. Desire falls in love with Zizi because she is beautiful, and dislikes Titty because he does not consider her beautiful. What are some other things that Desire might have considered were worth loving about the two girls?

Independent Thinking, Empathy

1. Do you think Titty could be blamed for trying to marry the Prince?

2. Do you think she deserved what happened to her? Why or why not?

The post The Enchanted Canary first appeared on Bedtime Stories.

Once upon a time there was a Queen who had nothing on earth to wish for to complete her happiness, except children. She talked of nothing else, and continually said that the Fairy Fanferluche having attended at her birth, and not being contented with the Queen, her mother, had put herself into a passion, and condemned her in consequence to nothing but misfortune.

One day, when she was sitting sadly and alone by the fireside, she saw come down the chimney a little old woman, about the height of your hand, riding on three bits of rushes. She wore on her head a sprig of hawthorn; her dress was composed of flies’ wings; two nut-shells served her for boots; she sailed in the air, and after taking three turns in the room, she stopped before the Queen.

“For a long time,” said the old woman, “you have been complaining of me, accusing me of all your misfortunes, and making me responsible for all that happens to you. You think, Madam, that I am the cause of your having no children. I come now to announce to you that you will have an infant, but I fear she will cost you many tears.”

“Ah! noble Fanferluche,” said the Queen, “do not refuse me your pity and your aid. I will render you all the services in my power, provided the Princess you promise me shall be my comfort and not my affliction.”

“Destiny is more powerful than I,” replied the Fairy. “All I can do, to show my affection for you, is to give you this white hawthorn; fasten it to your child’s head the moment she is born; it will preserve her from many perils.” She gave her the sprig, and vanished like lightning.

The Queen remained sad and thoughtful. “Why should I wish,” she said, “for a daughter who will cost me many tears and sighs? should I not be happier without any children?” The presence of the King, whom she loved dearly, a little dissipated her grief, and when she found that she should soon become a mother, all her care was to desire her friends, the moment the Princess should be born, to lay on her head the hawthorn flower, which she kept in a box of gold covered with diamonds, as the most valuable thing she possessed.

At length the Queen gave birth to the most beautiful creature that had ever been seen; they instantly attached to her head the sprig of hawthorn, when, at the same moment, oh! wondrous! she became a little monkey, jumping, running, and skipping about the room just as a monkey would.

At this metamorphose all the ladies uttered the most horrible cries, and the Queen, who was more frightened than any one, thought she should have died of despair. She called to them to remove the sprig of hawthorn that they had placed behind the ear; but after the greatest trouble in catching the little ape, they found it useless to remove the fatal flowers; she was a monkey still, a confirmed monkey, refusing to be nursed like a child, and would eat nothing but nuts and chestnuts.

“Barbarous Fanferluche,” said the Queen, sadly, “what have I done to thee that thou shouldst use me thus? What will become of me! what a disgrace to me! all my subjects will think I have given birth to a monster. What will be the King’s horror at such a child!” She wept, and prayed the ladies to advise her how to act in such an emergency.

“Madam,” said the oldest of her attendants, “you must persuade the King that the Princess is dead, and then shut up this ape in a box, and sink it to the bottom of the sea; for it would be horrible to preserve any longer a little brute of such a kind.” The Queen found it difficult to agree to this proposal, but as they told her the King was coming to her apartments, she was so confused and agitated, that without further deliberation she told her maid of honour to do what she pleased with the monkey.

They took it into another room, shut it up in a box, and desired one of the valets-de-chambre to throw it into the sea. He instantly departed on his errand.

Behold the Princess exposed to extreme danger! The man, however, thinking the box beautiful, was sorry to deprive himself of it; so he seated himself on the sea-shore, and took out the ape, determining to kill it, (for he did not know it was his sovereign,) but whilst he had hold of it, a great noise which startled him obliged him to turn his head, when he saw an open chariot drawn by six unicorns, resplendent with gold and precious stones. It was preceded by a military band. A Queen crowned, and in a royal mantle, was seated in the chariot on cushions of cloth of gold, and she held in her arms her son, a child of four years old.

The valet recognised this Queen as the sister of his mistress. She had come to see and rejoice with her, but when she found the little Princess was dead, she departed sadly to return to her kingdom. She was lost in thought, when her son cried, “I want that monkey! I will have it.”

The Queen, looking up, beheld the prettiest monkey that ever was seen. The valet endeavoured to escape, but he was prevented. The Queen ordered a large sum to be given him for the monkey; and finding it gentle and playful, she named it Babiole; thus, notwithstanding her hard fate, the Princess fell into the hands of her own aunt.

When the Queen arrived in her own dominions, the little Prince begged her to give him Babiole for a playmate. He desired she should be dressed like a Princess; so every day they made her new dresses, and they taught her to walk only on her feet. It was impossible to find a prettier or more agreeable little monkey; her little face was as black as a jackdaw’s, with a white ruff round her neck, and tufts of flesh colour at her ears. Her little paws were not bigger than butterflies’ wings, and her sparkling eyes indicated so much intelligence, that there was no need for astonishment at anything she did.

The Prince, who loved her very much, petted her unceasingly; she would never bite him, and when he wept, she wept too. She had been already four years with the Queen, when, one day, she began to stammer like a child trying to talk. Every body wondered at her, and they were still more astonished when she began to speak in a voice so clear and distinct that every word was intelligible. Marvellous! Babiole speaking! Babiole a reasoning creature! The Queen would have her again, to amuse her; they therefore carried her to her Majesty’s apartments, greatly to the grief of the Prince. He began to weep; and, to console him, they gave him cats and dogs, birds and squirrels, and even a pony, called Criquetin, which danced a saraband; but all this was to him not worth one word from Babiole.

On her side, she was under greater constraint with the Queen than with the Prince: they required her to answer like a Sibyl to a hundred ingenious and learned questions to which she could not always reply. When an ambassador or a stranger arrived, they made her appear in a robe of velvet or brocade with bodice and collar. If the Court was in mourning, she had to drag after her a long mantle of crape, which fatigued her very much. They did not allow her to eat what she liked, the physician always ordering her dinner, which did not at all please her, as she was as self-willed as an ape born a princess might be expected to be. The Queen gave her masters who tried the powers of her intellect most thoroughly. She excelled in playing on the harpsichord; they had made her a wonderful one in an oyster shell. Painters came from all quarters of the world, and especially from Italy, to take her likeness. Her renown spread from pole to pole, for no one had ever heard of a monkey endued with speech.

The Prince, as beautiful as the picture of the god of love, graceful and witty, was not less a prodigy. He came to see Babiole, and sometimes amused himself with talking to her; their conversation often changed from gay to grave, for Babiole had a heart, and that heart was not metamorphosed like the rest of her little body. She became, therefore, deeply attached to the Prince, and he in return became only too fond of her.

The unfortunate Babiole did not know what to do; she passed her nights on the top of a window shutter, or on a corner of the chimney-piece, without a wish to enter the basket prepared for her, which was soft, and well lined with wadding and feathers. Her governess (for she had one) often heard her sighing, and sometimes complaining; her melancholy became deeper as her reason increased, and she never saw herself in a looking-glass without trying, out of vexation, to break it, so that people constantly said, “A monkey will always be a monkey; Babiole cannot rid herself of the mischief natural to her species.”

The Prince growing up, became fond of hunting, dancing, plays, arms, and books, and no longer even mentioned the poor little ape. Things were very different on her side of the question; she loved him better at twelve years old than she had at six, and sometimes reproached him with his neglect, while he thought that he made up for everything when he gave her a choice apple or some sugared chestnuts.

At last Babiole’s reputation reached even the kingdom of the monkeys, and King Magot conceived a great wish to marry her. With this intention he sent a notable embassy to obtain her from the Queen; his prime minister had no difficulty in understanding his wishes, but would have been at great trouble in expressing them, had it not been for the assistance of the parrots and pies, vulgarly called “mags,” who chattered not a little, while the jackdaws, who followed in the suite, would not suffer themselves to be outdone in noise.

A huge monkey, named Mirlifiche was chief of the embassy; he had a carriage made for him of cardboard, and on it were painted the loves of King Magot and the ape Monette, well known in the empire of the Monkeys; she, poor thing, had met a tragic end from the claws of a wild cat, who was by no means accustomed to her tricks. There was painted the happiness of Magot and Monette during their marriage, and the natural grief he had displayed at her death. Six white rabbits, from a capital warren, drew the carriage called by way of distinction the state coach. After this came a chariot made of straw, painted in different colours, and containing the apes destined to attend on Babiole; it was worth anything to see how they were adorned, in fact they looked as if they were going to a wedding. The rest of the cortège was composed of little spaniels, greyhounds, Spanish cats, Muscovy rats, some hedgehogs, cunning weasels, and dainty foxes; some drew the carriages, others carried the baggage. Above all, Mirlifiche, graver than a Roman dictator, and wiser than Cato himself, bestrode a leveret, that ambled along more easily than any English gelding.

The Queen knew nothing of this magnificent embassy until it arrived at her palace, but the shouts of laughter from the guards and people inducing her to put her head out of window, she beheld the most extraordinary sight she had ever seen in her life. Mirlifiche, followed by a considerable number of monkeys, advanced towards the chariot of the apes, and, giving his paw to the largest, called Gigona, assisted her to descend; then letting fly the little parrot, who was to serve as interpreter, he waited until this beautiful bird had presented itself to the Queen and demanded an audience for him.

Perroquet, raising himself gently in the air, came to the window out of which the Queen was looking, and in a tone of voice the prettiest in the world said,

“Madam, his excellency the Count De Mirlifiche, ambassador from the celebrated Magot, king of the monkeys, demands an audience of your Majesty, to treat of a most important affair.”

“Beautiful parrot,” said the Queen, caressing him, “first take something to eat and to drink, and then I will allow you to go and tell Count Mirlifiche I bid him most welcome to my kingdom, he and all who accompany him. If his journey from Magotia hither has not too much fatigued him, he may shortly enter my audience chamber, where I shall await him on my throne, with all my court.”

At these words Perroquet kissed his claw twice, flapped his pinions, sang a little air, expressive of his delight, and taking wing again perched on the shoulder of Mirlifiche and whispered to him the favourable reply he had received.

Mirlifiche was not insensible of the kindness. He immediately requested one of the Queen’s officers, through the magpie, Margot, who had installed herself as sub-interpreter, to show him into an apartment, where he might repose for a few moments.

They immediately opened a saloon paved with marble, painted and gilded, which was one of the best in the palace. He entered it with part of his suite, but as monkeys are always great ferreters by profession, they found a certain corner in which had been arranged a quantity of jars of preserves. Behold the gluttons at them. One has a crystal cup full of apricots, another a bottle of syrup—this one a patty, that one some almond cakes. The winged gentry who made up the cortège were much annoyed to be spectators of a feast in which there was neither hempseed nor millet-seed, and a jackdaw, who was a great chatterer, flew to the audience chamber, and, respectfully approaching the Queen, said,

“Madam, I am too devoted a servant of your Majesty’s to be a willing accomplice in the havoc which is being made in your very nice sweetmeats. Count Mirlifiche himself has already eaten three boxes full. He was crunching the fourth without any respect to your royal Majesty, when, touched to the heart, I came to inform your Majesty of it.”

“I thank you, my little friend Jackdaw,” said the Queen, smiling, “but I can dispense with your zeal about my sweetmeats; I abandon them in favour of Babiole, whom I love with all my heart.”

The jackdaw, a little ashamed at having made a great noise for nothing, retired without another word. The ambassador with his suite shortly after entered the apartment. He was not dressed precisely in the height of the fashion, for since the return of the famous Fagotin, who had cut such a figure in the world, they had never seen a good model. He had a peaked hat, with a plume of green feathers in it, a shoulder belt of blue paper covered with gold spangles, large canions, and a walking stick.

Perroquet, who passed for a tolerably good poet, having composed a very grave harangue, advanced to the foot of the throne where the Queen was seated, and addressed Babiole thus:—

Perroquet had scarcely finished his oration when the Queen turned her eyes on Babiole, who felt more disconcerted than anybody had ever been before. The Queen wished to ascertain her sentiments before she replied. She told the parrot to make his excellency the ambassador understand that she favoured the King’s pretensions as far as it depended on herself. The audience over, she retired, and Babiole followed her into her closet.

“My little ape,” said the Queen to her, “I acknowledge that I shall regret thy absence, but there is no way of refusing Magot, who asks thy hand in marriage, for I have not yet forgotten that his father brought two hundred thousand monkeys into the field against me, and they ate so many of my subjects that we were obliged to agree to a shameful peace.”

“That means, then, Madam,” replied Babiole, impatiently, “that you are resolved to sacrifice me to this horrid monster to avoid his anger; but I supplicate your Majesty at least to grant me a few days to make up my mind finally.”

“That is but just,” said the Queen; “nevertheless, if you will take my advice, decide promptly; consider the honours prepared for thee, the magnificence of the embassy, and what maids of honour he sends thee. I am sure that Magot never did for Monette what he has done for thee.”

“I do not know what he has done for Monette,” said little Babiole, indignantly, “but I know well that I am not greatly touched by the sentiments with which he honours me.”

She rose instantly, and with a graceful curtsey went to search for the Prince, to tell him her troubles. As soon as he saw her, he exclaimed, “Well, Babiole, when are we to dance at your wedding?”

“I do not know, Sir,” said she, sadly; “but the deplorable state I am in renders me incapable of keeping my own secrets, and however my delicacy may suffer, I must own to you that you are the only person I could take for a husband.”

“Me!” said the Prince, bursting into a loud laugh, “for a husband! My little ape, I am charmed at what you tell me, yet I hope you will pardon me if I do not accept your proposal, for, in short, our figures, tastes, and manners are not quite suitable.”

“I agree with you,” she said, “and our hearts also are unlike; you are an ingrate; for a long time I have suspected it, and I am very foolish to feel an affection for a prince who so little deserves it.”

“But, Babiole, think of the misery with which I should see you, perched on the top of a sycamore, holding on to a branch by your tail. Take my advice! laugh at this affair, for your honour and mine. Marry King Magot, and for old friendship’s sake, send me your first little monkey.”

“It is well for you, my Lord,” added Babiole, “that I have not exactly the disposition of an ape; any other than I would have already scratched out your eyes, bitten off your nose, and torn off your ears, but I abandon you to the reflections that you will one day make on your unworthy conduct.”

She could say no more, for her governess came to fetch her; the Ambassador Mirlifiche, having taken to her apartments some magnificent presents. There was a toilette, composed of a spider’s web embroidered with little glowworms; an egg-shell held the combs, and a white-heart cherry served for a pin-cushion, all the linen being trimmed with lace paper. There were besides in a basket several shells neatly arranged; some to serve for earrings, others for bodkins, and all brilliant as diamonds; and what was much better, there were a dozen boxes filled with comfits, and a little glass coffer, containing a nut and an olive, but the key was lost.

Babiole, however, cared little about it. The Ambassador informed her in a grumbling tone, the language used in Magotia, that his King was more touched by her charms than by those of any monkey he had ever seen in his life; that he had had a palace built for her in the top of a fir-tree; that he had sent her these presents and also some excellent sweetmeats, as a mark of his attachment, so that the King, his master, could not better testify his affection.

“But,” continued he, “the strongest proof of his tenderness, and the one of which you ought to be the most sensible, is, Madam, the care he has taken to have his portrait painted as a foretaste of the pleasure you will have in seeing him.” He thereupon displayed the portrait of the King of the Monkeys, seated on a great log of wood, and eating an apple.

Babiole turned her eyes away, that they might not be longer offended by such a disagreeable figure, and grumbling three or four times she made Mirlifiche understand that she was obliged to his master for his esteem, but that she had not yet determined whether she should marry or not.

Meantime the Queen had resolved not to draw on herself the anger of the monkeys, and not thinking it necessary to stand on much ceremony in sending Babiole where she chose her to go, prepared everything for her departure. At this news despair took complete possession of poor Babiole’s heart; the contempt of the Prince on one hand, the indifference of the Queen on the other, and more than all, such a husband, made her resolve to fly. It was not a very difficult matter; since she had spoken they no longer tied her up; she went out and came in and entered her room as often by the window as by the door. She hurried, therefore, away, jumping from tree to tree, from branch to branch, till she came to the banks of a river.

The excess of her despair prevented her from comprehending the peril she should incur by attempting to swim across, and without pausing even to look at it, she flung herself in, and immediately went to the bottom; but as she did not lose her senses, she perceived a magnificent grotto, ornamented with shells. She entered it quickly, and was received by a very old man, whose long white beard descended to his waist: he was reclining on a couch of reeds and flags, and was crowned with poppies and wild lilies, and was leaning against a rock, out of which flowed several fountains which fed the river.

“Ah! what brings thee here, little Babiole?” said he, holding out his hand to her.

“My Lord,” she replied, “I am an unfortunate ape! I am flying from a horrible monkey, whom they want me to marry.”

“I know more of thy history than thou thinkest,” added the wise old man; “it is true thou dost abhor Magot, but it is no less true that thou lovest a young Prince, who treats thee with indifference.”

“Ah, Sir,” cried Babiole, sighing, “do not speak of it; the thought of him augments all my woes.”

“He will not always be a rebel to love,” continued the guest of the fishes; “I know he is reserved for the most beautiful princess in the world.”

“Unfortunate that I am,” continued Babiole, “he then can never be mine.”

The good man smiled, and said to her, “Do not distress thyself, my good Babiole, time is a great master; only take care not to lose the little glass coffer which Magot sent thee, and which by chance thou hast in thy pocket. I cannot say more to thee on the subject: here is a tortoise who goes a very good pace; seat thyself on him, and he will conduct thee whither thou shouldst go.”

“After all the obligations you have conferred on me,” said Babiole, “I cannot leave you without inquiring your name.”

“They call me Biroquoi,” he said, “father of Biroquie—a river, as you see, large enough and famous enough.”

Babiole mounted the tortoise with perfect confidence; they travelled for some time on the water, and at last, after what appeared a long round, the tortoise gained the bank. It would be difficult to find anything more noble looking than the English saddle and the rest of the harness of the tortoise, complete even to the little pistols in the saddle bow, the pockets of which were made of two bodies of crabs.

Babiole travelled on, entirely confiding in the promises of Biroquoi, when on a sudden she heard a rather loud noise; Alas! alas! it was the ambassador Mirlifiche, with all his followers, who were returning to Magotia, sad and afflicted at the flight of Babiole. A monkey of the troop had climbed a walnut-tree at dinner time, to knock down the nuts to feed the Magotins; but he had hardly reached the top of the tree when, looking about him, he saw Babiole on the poor tortoise, who was travelling slowly in the open country. At this sight he began to scream so loud that the assembled monkeys asked him in their language what was the matter; he told them, and they immediately let loose the parrots, pies, and jays, who flew to the spot and identified her, and on their report that it really was Babiole, the Ambassador, the apes and the rest of the party ran after and seized her.

What a misfortune for Babiole! It would be difficult to have met with a greater or more grievous one. They made her enter the state coach, which was immediately surrounded by the most vigilant apes, some foxes, and a cock, the latter of whom mounted on the imperial and stood sentinel day and night. A monkey led the tortoise as a rare animal, and thus the cavalcade continued its journey, to the great distress of Babiole, who had no other companion than Madame Gigona, a sour-tempered and ill-natured ape.

At the end of three days, during which nothing particular occurred, the guides having missed their way, the cavalcade arrived at a large and beautiful city totally unknown to them, but perceiving a beautiful garden, the gate of which was open, they entered and ravaged it as if it was a conquered country. One cracked nuts, another swallowed cherries, a third stripped a plum-tree; in short, down to the smallest monkey in the train, there was not one that did not go plundering and pocketing.

Now, you must know that this city was the capital of the kingdom in which Babiole was born, that the Queen her mother, resided in it, and that ever since she had the misfortune to see her daughter changed into an ape by the sprig of hawthorn, she had never suffered in her dominions any ape, monkey, baboon, or anything in fact that could recal the fatal circumstance to her mind. A monkey was looked upon there as a disturber of the public peace. What, then, was the astonishment of the people at the arrival of a card coach, a chariot of painted straw, and all the rest of the most extraordinary equipage that has ever been seen since stories were stories, and fairies fairies.

The news flew to the palace. The Queen was appalled; she imagined that the monkey people had designs against her throne. She called a council immediately, and the whole of the intruders were pronounced guilty of high treason: determined, therefore, to make such an example of them as should be a warning to all for the future, she sent her guards into the garden with orders to seize all the monkeys. They threw large nets over the trees; the hunt was soon over, and notwithstanding the respect due to the quality of an ambassador, the character was sadly outraged in the person of Mirlifiche, whom they consigned without the least remorse to the depths of a dungeon, in which he was placed under a large empty puncheon with the rest of his comrades, together with the lady apes and miss monkeys who accompanied Babiole.

Babiole herself experienced a secret gratification in this new misfortune. When unhappiness attains a certain point, nothing further alarms us, and even death, perhaps, is looked forward to as a boon. Such was her situation—her heart, tortured by the recollection of the Prince, who had despised her, and her mind by the frightful image of King Magot, whose wife she was about to become.

Now we must not forget to say that her dress was so pretty and her manners so superior that those who had made her prisoner could not help considering her something wonderful, and when she spoke their surprise was still greater. They had often heard mention of the admirable Babiole. The Queen, who had found her, and was ignorant of the transformation of her niece, had frequently written to her sister that she had a wonderful ape, and begged her to come and see it; but the afflicted mother always skipped such passages in her letters. At length the guards, in ecstasies of delight, carried Babiole into a great gallery where they erected a little throne, on which she seated herself with the air of a sovereign more than that of a captive ape, and the Queen happening to pass through the gallery, was so struck with surprise at her pretty mien, and the graceful salutation she made her, that, despite herself, nature spoke in favour of the infant.

The Queen took Babiole in her arms. The little creature, herself agitated by feelings till then unknown to her, threw herself on the Queen’s neck, and said to her such tender and winning things, that all those who heard her were full of admiration.

“No, Madam,” she said, “it is not the fear of approaching death (with which I am told you threaten the unfortunate race of monkeys) that induces me to seek means to please and propitiate you; the termination of my existence is not the greatest misfortune that can befall me, and my feelings are so far above the thing I am, that I should regret the least step that might be taken to save me. It is for yourself alone that I love you, Madam; your crown affects me much less than your merits.”

Now what reply, in your opinion, could anybody make to so polite and respectful a Babiole? The Queen, as mute as a fish, opened her two great eyes, imagined she was dreaming, and felt her heart excessively agitated. She carried Babiole into her cabinet. When they were alone she said to her,

“Delay not a moment the relation to me of thy adventures, for I feel satisfied that of all the animals that stock my menageries, and that I keep in my palace, I shall love thee the best. I promise thee even, that for thy sake I will pardon the monkeys that accompany thee.”

“Ah! Madam,” said Babiole, “I do not intercede for them. It has been my misfortune to be born an ape, and the same cruel fate has given me an understanding which will be my torment as long as I live; for what must I feel when I see myself in a looking glass, a little ugly black creature, with paws covered with hair, a tail, and teeth always ready to bite, and at the same time know that I am not without intelligence, that I possess some taste, refinement, and feeling.”

“Art thou susceptible of love?” asked the Queen.

Babiole sighed without replying.

“Oh!” continued the Queen. “I pray thee tell me if thou lovest a monkey, a rabbit, or a squirrel, for if thou art not positively engaged, I have a goblin who would be the very husband for thee.”

Babiole at this proposition assumed an air of indignation, which made the Queen burst out laughing. “Don’t be angry,” said she; “and tell me by what chance it is that thou hast the power of speech?”

“All that I know of my history,” said Babiole, “is that the Queen your sister, had scarcely left you after the birth and death of the Princess your daughter, than she saw, on the sea-shore, one of your valets-de-chambre, who was about to drown me. I was snatched from his grasp by her orders, and by a miracle which astonished everybody I found myself possessed of the power of speech and reason. Masters were given to me to teach me several languages, and how to play on various instruments; at length, Madam, I became aware of my misfortune, and,—but what is the matter, Madam?” cried she, observing the Queen’s face perfectly pallid, and covered with cold perspiration. “I perceive an extraordinary change in your countenance?”

“I am dying,” said the Queen, in a feeble voice, and scarcely able to articulate. “I am dying, my dear and too unhappy child! Ah! have I then found thee to-day?” As she uttered these words she fainted. Babiole, much alarmed, ran to call for help. The ladies in waiting on the Queen hastened to give her some water, to unlace her, and put her to bed. Babiole smuggled herself into bed with her. No one noticed it, she was so very little.

When the Queen recovered from the long swoon into which the Princess’s account of herself had thrown her, she desired to be left alone with the ladies who knew the secret of the fatal birth of her daughter. She told them what had occurred; at which they were so amazed that they knew not what advice to give her.

She commanded them, however, to say what they thought it would be best to do in so sad a conjuncture. Some suggested that the ape should be smothered, others were for shutting it up in some hole, and a third party proposed sending it again to be drowned in the sea. The Queen wept and sobbed, and said, “She has so much good sense, what a pity to see her reduced by a magic bouquet to this miserable condition. But after all,” she continued, “it is my child. It is I who have drawn down upon her the wrath of the wicked Fanferluche; is it just she should suffer for the hate that fairy bears to me?”

“Yes, Madam,” said her old maid of honour, “you must protect your own fame. What would the world think of you if you declared yourself the mother of a monkey Infanta. It is not natural for one so handsome as you are to have such children.”

The Queen lost all patience at such reasoning, whilst the old lady and the others all insisted with equal warmth that the little monster ought to be exterminated. Finally the Queen determined to have Babiole locked up in a château, where she could be well fed and well treated for the rest of her days.

When the Princess heard the Queen express her resolution to put her in prison, she slipped quietly out at the side of the bed, and leaping from a window on to a tree in the garden, escaped into the great forest, and left everybody wondering what had become of her.

She passed the night in the hollow of an oak, where she had time to moralize on the cruelty of her destiny; but what gave her the most pain was the necessity she was under of quitting the Queen. Still she preferred a voluntary exile which left her the enjoyment of her liberty, to remaining a captive for ever.

As soon as it was light she continued her journey, without knowing where to go, turning in her mind over and over again a thousand times, this strange, this most extraordinary adventure. “What a difference,” she exclaimed, “between that which I am, and that which I ought to have been!” The tears flowed fast from the little eyes of poor Babiole.

Every morning at daybreak she resumed her flight. She feared the Queen would have her pursued, or that some of the monkeys, escaped from the cellar, would seize and carry her against her will to King Magot. She fled so far without following road or track, that at length she came to a great desert, in which was to be found nor house nor tree, nor fruit, nor herb, nor fountain. She entered upon it without reflection, and when she became hungry, she discovered, but too late, how imprudent it was to travel through such a country.

Two nights and two days elapsed without her being able to catch even a worm or a gnat. The fear of death came over her. She was so weak that she felt fainting. She stretched herself on the ground, and recollecting the olive and the nut that were still in the little glass box, she thought she might make on them a slender meal. Encouraged by this ray of hope she took up a stone, broke the box to pieces, and began to eat the olive.

But scarcely had she bitten it when out ran a flood of fragrant oil, which falling on her paws they became the most beautiful hands in the world. Her surprise was extreme. She took some of the oil in her hands and rubbed herself all over with it. A miracle! She made herself so beautiful that nothing in the universe could be compared to her. She felt she had large eyes, a small mouth, a handsome nose—she was dying to see herself in a glass; at last it occurred to her to make one out of the largest piece of her broken box. Oh, when she saw herself, what delight! What an agreeable surprise! Her clothes had enlarged with herself. Her head was well dressed, her hair was in a thousand curls; her complexion was as blooming as the flowers of spring.

The first moments of her surprise over, the cravings of hunger became more urgent, and her distress on that score greatly increased. “Ah,” said she, “so young and handsome, a princess born as I am, must I perish in this sad spot? Oh, cruel fortune that has brought me hither, what hast thou in store for me? Is it to heap more affliction upon me, that thou hast effected this charming and unhoped-for change in my person? And thou, too, venerable river Biroquoi, who so generously saved my life, wilt thou leave me to perish in this frightful desert?”

The Infanta vainly cried for help. Every power was deaf to her voice, and the torments of hunger increased to such a degree that she took the nut and cracked it: but as she flung away the shell, she was greatly astonished to see coming out of it, architects, painters, masons, upholsterers, sculptors, and workmen in a thousand other crafts. Some drew plans of a palace, others built it, others furnished it. These painted the apartments, those laid out the gardens. Blue and gold met the eye in every direction. A magnificent repast was served up: sixty princesses dressed finer than queens, led by squires, and followed by their pages, came and paid her the highest compliments, and invited her to the banquet which awaited her. Babiole immediately, without waiting to be pressed, entered the saloon, and with the air of a Queen ate as a starving person might be expected to eat.

She had scarcely risen from table, when her treasurers placed before her fifteen thousand chests as big as hogsheads, filled with gold and diamonds. They inquired if it was her pleasure that they should pay the workmen who had built her palace. She answered that it was proper to do so; but bargained that they should also build a city, marry, and remain in her service. They all consented, and the city was built in three quarters of an hour, although it was five times larger than Rome. Here was a number of prodigies to come out of a little nut!

The Princess resolved to send a grand embassy to the Queen her mother, and to convey some reproaches to the young Prince her cousin. Whilst the requisite preparations were being made, she amused herself with runnings at the ring, at which she always distributed the prizes; also with cards, plays, hunting, and fishing; for they had brought a river through the palace gardens.

The report of Babble’s beauty spread throughout the universe, and kings came to her court from the four corners of the earth;—giants taller than mountains and pigmies smaller than rats.

It happened one day, during a grand tournament, after several knights had broken their lances, a quarrel arose between them, and they fought in earnest and wounded each other. The Princess, greatly offended by this conduct in her presence, descended from her balcony to ascertain who were the guilty parties; but when they were unhelmed, what were her feelings when she recognised in one of them the Prince her cousin! If not dead, he was so nearly gone, that she was herself ready to die of grief and alarm at the sight. She had him carried into the handsomest room in the palace, where nothing was wanting that could be necessary for his recovery,—physicians from Chodrai, surgeons, ointments, broths, syrups. The Infanta herself made the bandages and prepared the lint. They were watered with her tears; and those tears should alone have been a balsam to the wounded prince. They were so indeed in more ways than one, for not counting half-a-dozen sword-cuts, and as many lance-thrusts, which had pierced him through and through, he had long been at the court, incognito, and had been wounded by the bright eyes of Babiole so desperately, that he was incurable for life. It is easy, therefore, to imagine at present some portion of what he felt, when he was able to read in the countenance of that beautiful princess, that she was in the utmost grief at beholding the condition to which he was reduced.

I shall not stop to repeat all that his heart prompted him to say in thanking her for the kindness she had shown him. Those who heard him were astonished that a man so very ill could express himself with so much warmth and gratitude. The Infanta, who blushed more than once at his words, begged him to be silent, but his agitation and ardour carried him so far, that she saw him suddenly fall into an alarming agony. Up to this time she had evinced great fortitude, but now she lost it so completely that she tore her hair, uttered wild shrieks, and gave her people reason to believe that her heart was vastly susceptible, since she could in so short a time be so desperately in love with an utter stranger,—for little did they know in Babiola (she had so named her kingdom), that the prince was her cousin, and that she had loved him from her earliest infancy.

It was during his travels that he had arrived at this Court, and as there was no one he knew to present him to the Infanta, he thought that nothing could be better than performing five or six heroic actions before her, that is to say, cutting off the arms or legs of some of the knights in the lists; but he found none polite enough to permit him to do so. There was consequently a furious general combat; the strongest overthrew the weakest, and the weakest, as I have before told you, was the Prince.

Babiole, in a state of distraction, ran out on the high road without coach or guards. She plunged into a wood and fainted away at the foot of a tree. The Fairy Fanferluche, who never slept, and was always on the watch for opportunities to do mischief, came and carried her off in a cloud blacker than ink, and which flew faster than the wind.

The Princess remained for some time perfectly unconscious. At length she came to herself. Never was surprise equal to hers, at finding herself so far from the ground and so near to the pole. The floor of a cloud is not solid, so that as she ran here and there it seemed to her that she was treading on feathers; and the cloud opening a little she had a narrow escape of falling through. She found no one to complain to, for the wicked Fanferluche had made herself invisible. Babiole had leisure to think of her dear Prince, and the condition in which she had left him, and she gave herself up to the most poignant grief that could possess a living soul.

“How!” exclaimed she, “am I yet capable of surviving him I love; and can the fear of approaching death find a place in my heart? Oh, if the sun would roast me he would do me a kindness; or if I could drown myself in the rainbow, how happy I should be! but, alas, the whole zodiac is deaf to my voice: the sagittary has no darts, the bull no horns, the lion no teeth. Perhaps the earth will be more obliging, and offer me the sharp point of some rock on which I may kill myself. O Prince, my dear cousin! why are you not here to see me make the most tragic leap that a despairing lover could think of!” As she uttered these words she rushed to the end of the cloud, and sprang from it with the force of an arrow from a bow.

All who saw her thought it was the moon falling; and as it was then in the wane, many who adored it, and who remained for some time without seeing it, went into deep mourning, and were convinced that the sun out of jealousy had played it this wicked trick.

Much as the Infanta desired to kill herself she did not succeed. She fell into the glass-bottle in which the fairies usually keep their ratafia in the sun. But what a bottle! There is not a tower in the world so large. Fortunately it was empty, or she would have been drowned in it like a fly. The bottle was guarded by six giants. They recognised the Infanta immediately. They were the same giants who had been residing at her court and who were in love with her. The malignant Fanferluche, who did nothing without calculation, had transported them thither each on a flying dragon, and these dragons guarded the bottle when the giants slept. Many a day during the time Babiole was in the bottle did she regret her monkey’s skin. She lived like the chameleons on air and dew. The place of her imprisonment was known to none. The young Prince was ignorant of it. He was not dead, and was continually inquiring for Babiole. He saw plainly enough by the melancholy of all his attendants, that a general feeling of sorrow pervaded the Court upon some subject which his natural discretion prevented him from attempting to discover; but as soon as he was convalescent, he entreated them so earnestly to give him some tidings of the Princess, that they had not the courage to conceal her loss from him. Some who had seen her enter the wood, maintained that she had been devoured by the lions; while others believed she had destroyed herself in a fit of despair. Others, again, imagined she had gone out of her mind, and was wandering about the world.

As the last notion was the least dreadful, and kept up in a slight degree the hopes of the Prince, he adopted it, and departed on Criquetin, the horse I have before mentioned, but I omitted to say that he was the eldest son of Bucephalus, and one of the best horses of the age. The Prince let the bridle fall on his neck, and suffered him to take his own road. He called loudly on the Infanta, but the echoes alone replied to him.

At length he came to the banks of a large river; Criquetin was thirsty and went in to drink, and the Prince, as before, shouted, “Babiole, lovely Babiole! where art thou?”

He heard a voice, the sweetness of which seemed to charm the waters. This voice said to him, “Advance, and you shall learn where she is.” At these words the Prince, whose courage was equal to his love, clapped both his spurs into the sides of Criquetin. He plunged into the river and swam till he came to a whirlpool, into which the waves were sucked rapidly. They went down in it, horse and man, and the Prince made sure he should be drowned.

He arrived, however, fortunately, at the abode of the worthy Biroquoi, who was celebrating the marriage of his daughter with one of the richest and deepest rivers in the country. All the aquatic deities were assembled in the Grotto. The Tritons and the Syrens performed the most agreeable music, and the River Biroquie, lightly attired, danced the Hay with the Seine, the Thames, the Euphrates, and the Ganges, who had certainly come a long way to be merry together.

Criquetin, who knew good manners, halted very respectfully at the entrance of the Grotto, and the Prince, who knew better manners even than his horse, making a profound bow, inquired if a mortal like himself might be permitted to make his appearance in so splendid a party.

Biroquoi replied, in an affable tone, that he did them both honour and pleasure. “I have expected you for some days, my lord,” continued he; “I am interested in your fate, and that of the Infanta who is dear to me. You must release her from the fatal spot in which the vindictive Fanferluche has imprisoned her. It is in a bottle.”

“Ah, what do I hear!” cried the Prince; “the Infanta is in a bottle?”

“Yes,” said the sage old man; “she suffers much; but I warn you, my lord, that it is not easy to conquer the giants and the dragons that guard it, unless you follow my counsels. You must leave your good steed here, and mount on a winged dolphin that I have for some time been breaking in for you.” He had the dolphin brought out, saddled and bridled, who vaulted and curveted so cleverly that Criquetin was jealous of him.

Biroquoi and his friends made haste to arm the Prince. They gave him a brilliant cuirass of the scales of golden carps, and placed on his head the shell of a huge snail, which was overshadowed with the tail of a large cod raised in the form of an aigrette; a naiad girt him with an eel, from which depended a tremendous sword made out of a long fish-bone; and lastly they gave him the shell of a great tortoise for a shield; and, thus armed, there was not the smallest gudgeon that did not take him to be the God of Soles, for to speak the truth, this young Prince had a certain air which is rarely met with in mortals.

The hope of soon recovering the charming Princess he adored inspired him with a joy he had not experienced since her loss, and the faithful chronicle of these events asserts that he ate with an excellent appetite whilst he was staying with Biroquoi, and that he thanked him and all the company with extraordinary eloquence. He then bade adieu to Criquetin, and mounted the flying dolphin, who set off with him immediately. The Prince, towards evening, found himself at such a height, that for the sake of a little rest he entered the kingdom of the Moon. The curiosities he saw there would have detained him for some time had he been less anxious to extricate his beloved Infanta from the bottle in which she had been living for several months.

Morning had scarcely dawned when he discovered her surrounded by giants and dragons, which the Fairy, by the power of her little wand, had kept beside her. She so little imagined that any one would have power to rescue the Princess, that she felt perfectly satisfied with the vigilance of her terrible guards, and their ability to prolong the sufferings of Babiole.

That beautiful Princess had raised her mournful eyes to Heaven, and was addressing to it her sad complaints, when she saw the flying dolphin and the knight who came to her deliverance. She had not believed in the possibility of such an event, although her own experience had taught her that the most extraordinary things become familiar to certain persons.

“Is it by the malice of some Fairies,” said she, “that yon knight is borne through the air? Alas! how I pity him if, like me, he is doomed to be imprisoned in some bottle or flagon.”

Whilst she thus ruminated, the Giants, who saw the Prince hovering above their heads, thought it was a boy’s kite, and cried one to the other, “Catch hold, catch hold of the line!—it will amuse us;” but while they were stooping to look for the line, the Prince rushed down upon them, sword in hand, cut them in pieces as you would cut a pack of cards, and scattered them to the winds.

At the noise of this desperate combat the Infanta looked round, and recognised her young Prince. What joy, to be assured he was alive!—but what terror to see the imminent peril he was in amongst those horrible giants and the dragons that were springing upon him. She uttered fearful shrieks, and was ready to die at the sight of his danger.

But the enchanted bone with which Biroquoi had armed the Prince never struck in vain, and the light dolphin flying up or down with him at exactly the right moment, was also of wonderful assistance to him; so that in a very short time the ground was covered with the bodies of these monsters.

The impatient Prince, who saw his Infanta through the glass, would have dashed the bottle to pieces had he not been afraid of wounding her. He decided, therefore, to descend through the neck of it. When he reached the bottom of the bottle, he flung himself at the feet of Babiole, and respectfully kissed her hand.

“My Lord,” said she, “it is necessary, in order to retain your good opinion, that I should give you my reasons for the tender interest I took in your preservation. Know that we are near relations: that I am the daughter of the Queen, your aunt, and that very Babiole whom you found in the form of an ape on the sea-shore, and who afterwards had the weakness to evince an attachment for you which you despised.”

“Ah, Madam,” said the Prince, “can I believe so miraculous a circumstance? You have been an ape,—you have loved me, I have been aware of it, and was capable of rejecting the greatest of all blessings!”

“I should at this moment have a very bad opinion of your taste,” replied the Infanta smiling, “if you could then have felt any affection for me: but let us away, my Lord; I am weary of captivity, and I fear my enemy. Let us seek the Queen, my mother, and tell her all the extraordinary things in which she must be so much interested.”

“Come, Madam, let us go,” said the enamoured Prince, mounting the winged dolphin, and taking Babiole in his arms; “let me hasten to restore to her in your person the most lovely princess that the world ever boasted.”

The dolphin rose gently into the air and took his flight towards the capital, where the Queen passed her melancholy life. The disappearance of Babiole had deprived her of repose. She could not cease thinking of her, of the pretty speeches she had made, and, all ape as she was, the Queen would have given half her kingdom to see her once more. As soon as the Prince arrived he assumed the disguise of an old man, and requested a private audience of her Majesty.

“Madam,” said he to her, “I have studied from my earliest youth the art of Necromancy: you may judge from that fact that I am not ignorant of the hatred Fanferluche bears you, and its terrible consequences; but dry your tears, Madam; that Babiole, whom you have seen so ugly, is now the most beautiful Princess in the world. She will shortly be beside you, if you will forgive the Queen your sister the cruel war she has made upon you, and cement the peace by the marriage of your Infanta with the Prince your nephew.”

“I cannot flatter myself with such hopes,” replied the Queen weeping; “you wish to allay my sorrow, sage old man, but I have lost my dear child, I have no longer a husband, my sister pretends to my kingdom, her son is equally unjust towards me, and I will never seek their alliance.”

“Destiny has ordained otherwise,” said the Prince, “I am commissioned to inform you so.”

“Alas!” added the Queen, “where would be the advantage of my consenting to their marriage? The wicked Fanferluche has too much power and malice. She would oppose it always.”

“Make yourself easy on that score, Madam,” replied the old man; “promise me only that you will not object to the match so much desired.”

“I will promise anything,” said the Queen, “on condition that I once again behold my dear daughter.”

The Prince retired and ran to the spot where the Infanta was awaiting him. She was surprised to see him disguised, and he was, therefore, compelled to explain to her that for some time past there had been a confliction of interests between the two Queens, which had caused considerable bitterness; but that he had at length induced his aunt to consent to his wishes. The Princess was delighted: she repaired to the palace. All who saw her pass, were so struck by her perfect resemblance to her mother, that they hastened after her to ascertain who she could be.

As soon as the Queen saw her, her heart was so greatly agitated that she needed no other proof of the truth of the story. The Princess flung herself at the Queen’s feet, and was raised by her into her arms; where, after remaining for some time without speaking, and kissing away each other’s tears, they gave utterance to all that can be imagined on such an occasion. The Queen then, casting her eyes on her nephew, received him very graciously, and repeated to him the promise she had made to the necromancer. She would have said more, but the noise that she heard in the court-yard of the palace induced her to look out of the window, and she had the agreeable surprise of beholding the arrival of the Queen her sister. The Prince and the Infanta, who were looking out also, perceived in the royal suite the venerable Biroquoi, and even good Criquetin was one of the party. All at the sight of each other uttered shouts of joy; they ran to meet each other with transports which cannot be described, and the magnificent nuptials of the Prince and the Infanta were celebrated upon the spot in spite of the Fairy Fanferluche, whose power and malignity were equally confounded.

The post Babiole first appeared on Bedtime Stories.

This is a vintage fairy tale, and may contain violence. We would encourage parents to read beforehand  if your child is sensitive to such themes.

Once upon a time in the middle of winter, when the flakes of snow were falling like feathers from the clouds, a Queen sat at her palace window, which had an ebony black frame, stitching her husband’s shirts. While she was thus engaged and looking out at the snow she pricked her finger, and three drops of blood fell upon the snow. Now the red looked so well upon the white that she thought to herself, “Oh, that I had a child as white as this snow, as red as this blood, and as black as the wood of this frame!” Soon afterwards a little daughter came to her, who was as white as snow, and with cheeks as red as blood, and with hair as black as ebony, and from this she was named “Snow-White.” And at the same time her mother died.

About a year afterwards the King married another wife, who was very beautiful, but so proud and haughty that she could not bear anyone to be better-looking than herself. She owned a wonderful mirror, and when she stepped before it and said:

“Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Who is the fairest of us all?”

it replied:

“The Queen is the fairest of the day.”

Then she was pleased, for she knew that the mirror spoke truly.

Little Snow-White, however, grew up, and became prettier and prettier, and when she was seven years old she was as fair as the noonday, and more beautiful than the Queen herself. When the Queen now asked her mirror:

“Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Who is the fairest of us all?”

it replied:

“The Queen was fairest yesterday;

Snow-White is the fairest, now, they say.”

This answer so angered the Queen that she became quite yellow with envy. From that hour, whenever she saw Snow-White, her heart was hardened against her, and she hated the little girl. Her envy and jealousy increased so that she had no rest day or night, and she said to a Huntsman, “Take the child away into the forest. I will never look upon her again. You must kill her, and bring me her heart and tongue for a token.”

The Huntsman listened and took the maiden away, but when he drew out his knife to kill her, she began to cry, saying, “Ah, dear Huntsman, give me my life! I will run into the wild forest, and never come home again.”

This speech softened the Hunter’s heart, and her beauty so touched him that he had pity on her and said, “Well, run away then, poor child.” But he thought to himself, “The wild beasts will soon devour you.” Still he felt as if a stone had been lifted from his heart, because her death was not by his hand. Just at that moment a young boar came roaring along to the spot, and as soon as he clapped eyes upon it the Huntsman caught it, and, killing it, took its tongue and heart and carried them to the Queen, for a token of his deed.

But now poor little Snow-White was left motherless and alone, and overcome with grief, she was bewildered at the sight of so many trees, and knew not which way to turn. She ran till her feet refused to go farther, and as it was getting dark, and she saw a little house near, she entered in to rest. In this cottage everything was very small, but very neat and elegant. In the middle stood a little table with a white cloth over it, and seven little plates upon it, each plate having a spoon and a knife and a fork, and there were also seven little mugs. Against the wall were seven little beds arranged in a row, each covered with snow-white sheets.

Little Snow-White, being both hungry and thirsty, ate a little morsel of porridge out of each plate, and drank a drop or two of wine out of each mug, for she did not wish to take away the whole share of anyone. After that, because she was so tired, she laid herself down on one bed, but it did not suit; she tried another, but that was too long; a fourth was too short, a fifth too hard. But the seventh was just the thing; and tucking herself up in it, she went to sleep, first saying her prayers as usual.
When it became quite dark the owners of the cottage came home, seven Dwarfs, who dug for gold and silver in the mountains. They first lighted seven little lamps, and saw at once—for they lit up the whole room—that somebody had been in, for everything was not in the order in which they had left it.

The first asked, “Who has been sitting on my chair?” The second, “Who has been eating off my plate?” The third said, “Who has been nibbling at my bread?” The fourth, “Who has been at my porridge?” The fifth, “Who has been meddling with my fork?” The sixth grumbled out, “Who has been cutting with my knife?” The seventh said, “Who has been drinking out of my mug?”

Then the first, looking round, began again, “Who has been lying on my bed?” he asked, for he saw that the sheets were tumbled. At these words the others came, and looking at their beds cried out too, “Some one has been lying in our beds!” But the seventh little man, running up to his, saw Snow-White sleeping in it; so he called his companions, who shouted with wonder and held up their seven lamps, so that the light fell upon the little girl.

“Oh, heavens! oh, heavens!” said they; “what a beauty she is!” and they were so much delighted that they would not awaken her, but left her to sleep, and the seventh Dwarf, in whose bed she was, slept with each of his fellows one hour, and so passed the night.

As soon as morning dawned Snow-White awoke, and was quite frightened when she saw the seven little men; but they were very friendly, and asked her what she was called.

“My name is Snow-White,” was her reply.

“Why have you come into our cottage?” they asked.

Then she told them how her stepmother would have had her killed, but the Huntsman had spared her life, and how she had wandered about the Whole day until at last she had found their house.

When her tale was finished the Dwarfs said, “Will you look after our household—be our cook, make the beds, wash, sew, and knit for us, and keep everything in neat order? If so, we will keep you here, and you shall want for nothing.”

And Snow-White answered, “Yes, with all my heart and will.” And so she remained with them, and kept their house in order.
In the morning the Dwarfs went into the mountains and searched for silver and gold, and in the evening they came home and found their meals ready for them. During the day the maiden was left alone, and therefore the good Dwarfs warned her and said, “Be careful of your stepmother, who will soon know of your being here. So let nobody enter the cottage.”

The Queen meanwhile, supposing that she had eaten the heart and tongue of her stepdaughter, believed that she was now above all the most beautiful woman in the world. One day she stepped before her mirror, and said:

“Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Who is the fairest of us all?”

and it replied:

“The Queen was fairest yesterday;
Snow-White is fairest now, they say.

The Dwarfs protect her from thy sway
Amid the forest, far away.”

This reply surprised her, but she knew that the mirror spoke the truth. She knew, therefore, that the Huntsman had deceived her, and that Snow-White was still alive. So she dyed her face and clothed herself as a pedler woman, so that no one could recognize her, and in this disguise she went over the seven hills to the house of the seven Dwarfs. She knocked at the door of the hut, and called out, “Fine goods for sale! beautiful goods for sale!”

Snow-White peeped out of the window and said, “Good day, my good woman; what have you to sell?”

“Fine goods, beautiful goods!” she replied. “Stays of all colors.” And she held up a pair which were made of many-colored silks.

“I may let in this honest woman,” thought Snow-White; and she unbolted the door and bargained for one pair of stays.

“You can’t think, my dear, how they become you!” exclaimed the old woman. “Come, let me lace them up for you.”

Snow-White suspected nothing, and let her do as she wished, but the old woman laced her up so quickly and so tightly that all her breath went, and she fell down like one dead. “Now,” thought the old woman to herself, hastening away, “now am I once more the most beautiful of all!”

At eventide, not long after she had left, the seven Dwarfs came home, and were much frightened at seeing their dear little maid lying on the ground, and neither moving nor breathing, as if she were dead. They raised her up, and when they saw that she was laced too tight they cut the stays to pieces, and presently she began to breathe again, and  little by little she revived. When the Dwarfs now heard what had taken place, they said, “The old pedler woman was no other than your wicked stepmother. Take more care of yourself, and let no one enter when we are not with you.”

Meanwhile, the Queen had reached home, and, going before her mirror, she repeated her usual words:

“Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Who is the fairest of us all?”

and it replied as before:

“The Queen was fairest yesterday;
Snow-White is fairest now, they say.
The Dwarfs protect her from thy sway
Amid the forest, far away.”

As soon as it had finished, all her blood rushed to her heart, for she was so angry to hear that Snow-White was yet living. “But now,” thought she to herself, “will I make something which shall destroy her completely.” Thus saying, she made a poisoned comb by arts which she understood, and then, disguising herself, she took the form of an old widow. She went over the seven hills to the house of the seven Dwarfs, and knocking at the door, called out, “Good wares to sell to-day!”

Snow-White peeped out and said, “You must go farther, for I dare not let you in.”

“But still you may look,” said the old woman, drawing out her poisoned comb and holding it up. The sight of this pleased the maiden so much that she allowed herself to be persuaded, and opened the door. As soon as she had bought something the old woman said, “Now let me for once comb your hair properly,” and Snow-White consented. But scarcely was the comb drawn through the hair when the poison began to work, and the maiden fell down senseless.

“You pattern of beauty,” cried the wicked Queen, “it is now all over with you.” And so saying, she departed.

Fortunately, evening soon came, and the seven Dwarfs returned, and as soon as they saw Snow-White lying, like dead, upon the ground, they suspected the Queen, and discovering the poisoned comb, they immediately drew it out. Then the maiden very soon revived and told them all that had happened. So again they warned her against the wicked stepmother, and bade her open the door to nobody.

Meanwhile the Queen, on her arrival home, had again consulted her mirror, and received the same answer as twice before. This made her tremble and foam with rage and jealousy, and she swore that Snow-White should die if it cost her her own life. Thereupon she went into an inner secret chamber where no one could enter, and made an apple of the most deep and subtle poison. Outwardly it looked nice enough, and had rosy cheeks which would make the mouth of everyone who looked at it water; but whoever ate the smallest piece of it would surely die. As soon as the apple was ready the Queen again dyed her face, and clothed herself like a peasant’s wife, and then over the seven mountains to the house of the seven Dwarfs she made her way.

She knocked at the door, and Snow-White stretched out her head and said, “I dare not let anyone enter; the seven Dwarfs have forbidden me.”
“That is hard on me,” said the old woman, “for I must take back my apples; but there is one which I will give you.”

“No,” answered Snow-White; “no, I dare not take it.”

“What! are you afraid of it?” cried the old woman. “There, see—I will cut the apple in halves; do you eat the red cheeks, and I will eat the core.” (The apple was so artfully made that the red cheeks alone were poisoned.) Snow-White very much wished for the beautiful apple, and when she saw the woman eating the core she could no longer resist, but, stretching out her hand, took the poisoned part. Scarcely had she placed a piece in her mouth when she fell down dead upon the ground. Then the Queen, looking at her with glittering eyes, and laughing bitterly, exclaimed, “White as snow, red as blood, black as ebony! This time the Dwarfs cannot reawaken you.”

When she reached home and consulted her mirror—

“Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Who is the fairest of us all?”

it answered:

“The Queen is fairest of the day.”

Then her envious heart was at rest, as peacefully as an envious heart can rest.

When the little Dwarfs returned home in the evening they found Snow-White lying on the ground, and there appeared to be no life in her body; she seemed to be quite dead. They raised her up, and tried if they could find anything poisonous. They unlaced her, and even uncombed her hair, and washed her with water and with wine. But nothing availed: the dear child was really and truly dead.

Then they laid her upon a bier, and all seven placed themselves around it, and wept and wept for three days without ceasing. Then they prepared to bury her. But she looked still fresh and life-like, and even her red cheeks had not deserted her, so they said to one another, “We cannot bury her in the black ground.” Then they ordered a case to be made of glass. In this they could see the body on all sides, and the Dwarfs wrote her name with golden letters upon the glass, saying that she was a King’s daughter. Now they placed the glass case upon the ledge on a rock, and one of them always remained by it watching. Even the birds bewailed the loss of Snow-White; first came an owl, then a raven, and last of all a dove.

For a long time Snow-White lay peacefully in her case, and changed not, but looked as if she were only asleep, for she was still white as snow, red as blood, and black-haired as ebony. By and by it happened that a King’s son was traveling in the forest, and came to the Dwarfs’ house to pass the night. He soon saw the glass case upon the rock, and the beautiful maiden lying within, and he read also the golden inscription.

When he had examined it, he said to the Dwarfs, “Let me have this case, and I will pay what you like for it.”

But the Dwarfs replied, “We will not sell it for all the gold in the world.”

“Then give it to me,” said the Prince; “for I cannot live without Snow-White. I will honor and protect her as long as I live.”

When the Dwarfs saw that he was so much in earnest, they pitied him, and at last gave him the case, and the Prince ordered it to be carried away on the shoulders of his attendants. Presently it happened that they stumbled over a rut, and with the shock the piece of poisoned apple which lay in Snow-White’s mouth fell out. Very soon she opened her eyes, and raising the lid of the glass case, she rose up and asked, “Where am I?”

Full of joy, the Prince answered, “You are safe with me.” And he told to her what she had suffered, and how he would rather have her than any other for his wife, and he asked her to accompany him home to the castle of the King his father. Snow-White consented, and when they arrived there they were married with great splendor and magnificence.

Snow-White’s stepmother was also invited to the wedding, and when she was dressed in all her finery to go, she first stepped in front of her mirror and asked:

“Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Who is the fairest of us all?”

and it replied:

“The Queen was fairest yesterday;
The Prince’s bride is now, they say.”

At these words the Queen was in a fury, and was so terribly mortified that she knew not what to do with herself. At first she resolved not to go to the wedding, but she could not resist the wish to see the Princess. So she went; but as soon as she saw the bride she recognized Snow-White, and was so terrified with rage and astonishment that she rushed out of the castle and was never heard of again.

FAIRY TALES WRITTEN BY THE BROTHERS GRIMM

LET’S CHAT ABOUT THE STORIES ~ IDEAS FOR TALKING WITH KIDS

Kindness

1. The seven dwarfs were very protective and loyal to Snow White. What sorts of qualities did Snow White have to make them care for her so greatly?

Beauty, Jealousy

1. Snow White’s stepmother goes to great lengths to kill Snow White because she is envious of her beauty. What do you think the story might tell us about jealousy and beauty?

The post Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs first appeared on Bedtime Stories.

Once upon a time there lived a king who was deeply in love with a princess, but she could not marry anyone, because she was under an enchantment. So the King set out to seek a fairy, and asked what he could do to win the Princess’s love. The Fairy said to him:

“You know that the Princess has a great cat which she is very fond of. Whoever is clever enough to tread on that cat’s tail is the man she is destined to marry.”

The King said to himself that this would not be very difficult, and he left the Fairy, determined to grind the cat’s tail to powder rather than not tread on it at all.

You may imagine that it was not long before he went to see the Princess, and puss, as usual, marched in before him, arching his back. The King took a long step, and quite thought he had the tail under his foot, but the cat turned round so sharply that he only trod on air. And so it went on for eight days, till the King began to think that this fatal tail must be full of quicksilver—it was never still for a moment.

At last, however, he was lucky enough to come upon puss fast asleep and with his tail conveniently spread out. So the King, without losing a moment, set his foot upon it heavily.

With one terrific yell the cat sprang up and instantly changed into a tall man, who, fixing his angry eyes upon the King, said:

“You shall marry the Princess because you have been able to break the enchantment, but I will have my revenge. You shall have a son, who will never be happy until he finds out that his nose is too long, and if you ever tell anyone what I have just said to you, you shall vanish away instantly, and no one shall ever see you or hear of you again.”

Though the King was horribly afraid of the enchanter, he could not help laughing at this threat.

“If my son has such a long nose as that,” he said to himself, “he must always see it or feel it; at least, if he is not blind or without hands.”

But, as the enchanter had vanished, he did not waste any more time in thinking, but went to seek the Princess, who very soon consented to marry him. But after all, they had not been married very long when the King died, and the Queen had nothing left to care for but her little son, who was called Hyacinth. The little Prince had large blue eyes, the prettiest eyes in the world, and a sweet little mouth, but, alas! his nose was so enormous that it covered half his face. The Queen was inconsolable when she saw this great nose, but her ladies assured her that it was not really as large as it looked; that it was a Roman nose, and you had only to open any history to see that every hero has a large nose. The Queen, who was devoted to her baby, was pleased with what they told her, and when she looked at Hyacinth again, his nose certainly did not seem to her quite so large.

The Prince was brought up with great care; and, as soon as he could speak, they told him all sorts of dreadful stories about people who had short noses. No one was allowed to come near him whose nose did not more or less resemble his own, and the courtiers, to get into favor with the Queen, took to pulling their babies’ noses several times every day to make them grow long. But, do what they would, they were nothing by comparison with the Prince’s.

When he grew sensible he learned history; and whenever any great prince or beautiful princess was spoken of, his teachers took care to tell him that they had long noses.

His room was hung with pictures, all of people with very large noses; and the Prince grew up so convinced that a long nose was a great beauty, that he would not on any account have had his own a single inch shorter!

When his twentieth birthday was passed the Queen thought it was time that he should be married, so she commanded that the portraits of several princesses should be brought for him to see, and among the others was a picture of the Dear Little Princess!

Now, she was the daughter of a great king, and would some day possess several kingdoms herself; but Prince Hyacinth had not a thought to spare for anything of that sort, he was so much struck with her beauty. The Princess, whom he thought quite charming, had, however, a little saucy nose, which, in her face, was the prettiest thing possible, but it was a cause of great embarrassment to the courtiers, who had got into such a habit of laughing at little noses that they sometimes found themselves laughing at hers before they had time to think; but this did not do at all before the Prince, who quite failed to see the joke, and actually banished two of his courtiers who had dared to mention disrespectfully the Dear Little Princess’s tiny nose!

The others, taking warning from this, learned to think twice before they spoke, and one even went so far as to tell the Prince that, though it was quite true that no man could be worth anything unless he had a long nose, still, a woman’s beauty was a different thing; and he knew a learned man who understood Greek and had read in some old manuscripts that the beautiful Cleopatra herself had a “tip-tilted” nose!

The Prince made him a splendid present as a reward for this good news, and at once sent ambassadors to ask the Dear Little Princess in marriage. The King, her father, gave his consent; and Prince Hyacinth, who, in his anxiety to see the Princess, had gone three leagues to meet her was just advancing to kiss her hand when, to the horror of all who stood by, the enchanter appeared as suddenly as a flash of lightning, and, snatching up the Dear Little Princess, whirled her away out of their sight!

The Prince was left quite unconsolable, and declared that nothing should induce him to go back to his kingdom until he had found her again, and refusing to allow any of his courtiers to follow him, he mounted his horse and rode sadly away, letting the animal choose his own path.

So it happened that he came presently to a great plain, across which he rode all day long without seeing a single house, and horse and rider were terribly hungry, when, as the night fell, the Prince caught sight of a light, which seemed to shine from a cavern.

He rode up to it, and saw a little old woman, who appeared to be at least a hundred years old.

She put on her spectacles to look at Prince Hyacinth, but it was quite a long time before she could fix them securely because her nose was so very short.

The Prince and the Fairy (for that was who she was) had no sooner looked at one another than they went into fits of laughter, and cried at the same moment, “Oh, what a funny nose!”

“Not so funny as your own,” said Prince Hyacinth to the Fairy; “but, madam, I beg you to leave the consideration of our noses—such as they are—and to be good enough to give me something to eat, for I am starving, and so is my poor horse.”

“With all my heart,” said the Fairy. “Though your nose is so ridiculous you are, nevertheless, the son of my best friend. I loved your father as if he had been my brother. Now he had a very handsome nose!”

“And pray what does mine lack?” said the Prince.

“Oh! it doesn’t lack anything,” replied the Fairy. “On the contrary quite, there is only too much of it. But never mind, one may be a very worthy man though his nose is too long. I was telling you that I was your father’s friend; he often came to see me in the old times, and you must know that I was very pretty in those days; at least, he used to say so. I should like to tell you of a conversation we had the last time I ever saw him.”

“Indeed,” said the Prince, “when I have supped it will give me the greatest pleasure to hear it; but consider, madam, I beg of you, that I have had nothing to eat to-day.”

“The poor boy is right,” said the Fairy; “I was forgetting. Come in, then, and I will give you some supper, and while you are eating I can tell you my story in a very few words—for I don’t like endless tales myself. Too long a tongue is worse than too long a nose, and I remember when I was young that I was so much admired for not being a great chatterer. They used to tell the Queen, my mother, that it was so. For though you see what I am now, I was the daughter of a great king. My father——”

“Your father, I dare say, got something to eat when he was hungry!” interrupted the Prince.

“Oh! certainly,” answered the Fairy, “and you also shall have supper directly. I only just wanted to tell you——”

“But I really cannot listen to anything until I have had something to eat,” cried the Prince, who was getting quite angry; but then, remembering that he had better be polite as he much needed the Fairy’s help, he added:

“I know that in the pleasure of listening to you I should quite forget my own hunger; but my horse, who cannot hear you, must really be fed!”

The Fairy was very much flattered by this compliment, and said, calling to her servants:

“You shall not wait another minute, you are so polite, and in spite of the enormous size of your nose you are really very agreeable.”

“Plague take the old lady! How she does go on about my nose!” said the Prince to himself. “One would almost think that mine had taken all the extra length that hers lacks! If I were not so hungry I would soon have done with this chatterpie who thinks she talks very little! How stupid people are not to see their own faults! That comes of being a princess: she has been spoiled by flatterers, who have made her believe that she is quite a moderate talker!”

Meanwhile the servants were putting the supper on the table, and the prince was much amused to hear the Fairy who asked them a thousand questions simply for the pleasure of hearing herself speak; especially he noticed one maid who, no matter what was being said, always contrived to praise her mistress’s wisdom.

“Well!” he thought, as he ate his supper, “I’m very glad I came here. This just shows me how sensible I have been in never listening to flatterers. People of that sort praise us to our faces without shame, and hide our faults or change them into virtues. For my part I never will be taken in by them. I know my own defects, I hope.”

Poor Prince Hyacinth! He really believed what he said, and hadn’t an idea that the people who had praised his nose were laughing at him, just as the Fairy’s maid was laughing at her; for the Prince had seen her laugh slyly when she could do so without the Fairy’s noticing her.

However, he said nothing, and presently, when his hunger began to be appeased, the Fairy said:

“My dear Prince, might I beg you to move a little more that way, for your nose casts such a shadow that I really cannot see what I have on my plate. Ah! thanks. Now let us speak of your father. When I went to his Court he was only a little boy, but that is forty years ago, and I have been in this desolate place ever since. Tell me what goes on nowadays; are the ladies as fond of amusement as ever? In my time one saw them at parties, theatres, balls, and promenades every day. Dear me! what a long nose you have! I cannot get used to it!”

“Really, madam,” said the Prince, “I wish you would leave off mentioning my nose. It cannot matter to you what it is like. I am quite satisfied with it, and have no wish to have it shorter. One must take what is given one.”

“Now you are angry with me, my poor Hyacinth,” said the Fairy, “and I assure you that I didn’t mean to vex you; on the contrary, I wished to do you a service. However, though I really cannot help your nose being a shock to me, I will try not to say anything about it. I will even try to think that you have an ordinary nose. To tell the truth, it would make three reasonable ones.”

The Prince, who was no longer hungry, grew so impatient at the Fairy’s continual remarks about his nose that at last he threw himself upon his horse and rode hastily away. But wherever he came in his journeyings he thought the people were mad, for they all talked of his nose, and yet he could not bring himself to admit that it was too long, he had been so used all his life to hear it called handsome.

The old Fairy, who wished to make him happy, at last hit upon a plan. She shut the Dear Little Princess up in a palace of crystal, and put this palace down where the Prince would not fail to find it. His joy at seeing the Princess again was extreme, and he set to work with all his might to try to break her prison; but in spite of all his efforts he failed utterly. In despair he thought at least that he would try to get near enough to speak to the Dear Little Princess, who, on her part, stretched out her hand that he might kiss it; but turn which way he might, he never could raise it to his lips, for his long nose always prevented it. For the first time he realized how long it really was, and exclaimed:

“Well, it must be admitted that my nose is too long!”

In an instant the crystal prison flew into a thousand splinters, and the old Fairy, taking the Dear Little Princess by the hand, said to the Prince:

“Now, say if you are not very much obliged to me. Much good it was for me to talk to you about your nose! You would never have found out how extraordinary it was if it hadn’t hindered you from doing what you wanted to. You see how self-love keeps us from knowing our own defects of mind and body. Our reason tries in vain to show them to us; we refuse to see them till we find them in the way of our interests.”

Prince Hyacinth, whose nose was now just like anyone’s else, did not fail to profit by the lesson he had received. He married the Dear Little Princess, and they lived happily ever after.

Fairy Tale bedtime story, edited by Andrew Lang

LET’S CHAT ABOUT THE STORIES ~ IDEAS FOR TALKING WITH KIDS

Beauty, Self-Confidence

1. Prince Hyacinth has a very large nose but he doesn’t mind. Why doesn’t he mind? What do you think this says about our ideas of beauty?

2. Do you think the Queen was right to surround Prince Hyacinth with people that were like him? Why or why not?

3. How else could the Queen have helped Prince Hyacinth to feel good about his big nose?

Humility

1. The Fairy says that people often can’t see their own faults when they love themselves too much. Do you think it is possible to love ourselves too much? Why or why not?

The post Prince Hyacinth and the Dear Little Princess first appeared on Bedtime Stories.