

The New Blue Fairy Book
Part 1: Fairy Tales 1 to 6

Edited by Laird Stevens

The New Blue Fairy Book Part 1: Fairy Tales 1 to 6

Edited by Laird Stevens

Smashwords, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Copyright 2014 by Laird Stevens

eBook edition ISBN: 978-0-9867066-8-4
Preface

The great beauty of Andrew Lang's _Blue Fairy Book,_ originally published in 1889, is that it brought together many different fairy tale traditions. There are stories written by Charles Perrault and Mme d'Aulnoy, collected by the Grimm brothers and Asbjornsen and Moe, and translated from the _Arabian Nights._ It is a very rich collection of fairy tales.

However, the stories are written in a language that is outdated and in places inaccessible to modern American children (and even their parents). To remedy this problem, I have thoroughly edited half of the stories contained in Lang`s book, keeping the stories as intact as possible, while revising every sentence so the stories can once again be read with pleasure by children.

Table of Contents

Toads and Diamonds

Beauty and the Beast

Snow-white and Rose-red

Why the Sea is Salty

Felicia and the Pot of Carnations

Hansel and Grettel

TOADS AND DIAMONDS

Once upon a time there lived a widow with two daughters. The older of the two was just like her mother: she was always frowning, and her mouth was full of mean words. They were both so arrogant and rude that even animals avoided them, and birds refused to sing in their garden.

The younger child was quite the opposite. She was like her father, who had been a kind and honest man. As well, she was as beautiful a girl as one could ever imagine.

People tend to admire others who are mirrors of themselves, so the mother loved her older daughter very much, but hated the younger one intensely. She made her eat in the kitchen, and work the whole day long.

One of the girl's duties was fetching water from a fountain a mile and a half away. One day, she was filling her jug when a woman in beggar's rags approached, asking permission to drink.

"Of course!" said the girl. "I'll get some water at once." She dipped her jug in the clearest part of the fountain. "It's a little heavy," she said, "so let me hold it up while you drink."

When the woman had drunk her fill, she thanked the girl heartily.

"You are such a pretty girl," she said, "and so kind and so caring. You simply must allow me to give you a gift." For the woman was really a fairy, and she had dressed in rags to see if the girl would be kind even to a beggar. "This is your present," she said. "Whenever you speak, a flower or a jewel will come out of your mouth."

When the girl arrived home, her mother scolded her for being so long at the fountain.

"I'm sorry, mother," said the girl. "I'll go more quickly next time."

As she said these words, two roses, two pearls, and two diamonds came out of her mouth.

Her mother's eyes opened wide. "What are those things coming out of your mouth?" she cried. "They look like pearls and diamonds! Daughter? Explain!"

Never before had she called the girl her daughter.

The innocent child recounted the whole story, and all the while diamonds tumbled out of her mouth.

The mother gawked at the girl, and the corners of her mouth began to twitch. "Really?" she said. Then she glanced around the yard. "Where is that daughter of mine? Porgi!" she called. "Porgi-pie! Come and see what your sister's got in her mouth! Wouldn't you like to be able to do that? And all you have to do is wait by the fountain till a woman in beggar's rags asks for a drink! You give her the drink, and hey presto, your cheeks are full of jewels!"

"Mother!" replied Porgi, looking all the way down her nose. "Surely you don't want me to fetch water from the fountain!"

"Surely I do!" said her mother. "And I want you to leave this instant!"

So Porgi left at once, and took the nicest silver jug in the house, but she grumbled and grouched all the way to the fountain. Hardly had she arrived when out of the woods came a woman dressed like a queen. It was the same fairy who had begged water from her sister, and she was testing Porgi as well: would she speak rudely even to royalty? The fairy asked if she could have a drink of water.

"Do you think I walked all the way here just to get you something to drink?" Porgi sneered in disbelief. "Oh, that's right! I brought this beautiful silver jug just so Madam could wet her lips!" Porgi put the falsest smile imaginable on her face. "I don't think so! But there's plenty of room on the ground. Feel free to lie down, and have a little drink."

"You're not a very polite girl, are you?" said the fairy in a voice that was calm and detached. "Very well. Because you are so unkind, I will give you a little gift. Whenever you speak, a toad or a snake will come out of your mouth."

As soon as her mother saw her approaching, she cried, "Well? How did it go?"

Porgi aped her mother sarcastically. "Well? How did it go?" And as she spoke, two snakes and then two toads came out of her mouth.

"My goodness," cried the mother. "How awful! That sister of yours is behind this, I'm sure! Well, she'll pay!" She grabbed a paddle and went to beat the girl. But the child ran away and hid in the forest.

A young prince was coming from the hunt when he saw her crouching behind a tree. He was taken by her beauty, and asked what she was doing all alone in the forest, and why she was crying.

"My mother threw me out of the house," she said.

As she spoke, five or six pearls came out of her mouth, and as many diamonds followed. The prince asked her where they came from, and she told him the whole story. Then the prince fell in love with her, and asked her to marry him, and she agreed. There was no need of a dowry, of course, so the prince took her to the palace of his father the king, and there they married.

As for the sister, she was so rude that her mother finally chased her out of the house as well. But she found no one to take her in, and she died alone in the forest.

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

Once upon a time in a distant land, there lived a merchant with a dozen children. Six of them were girls, and six were boys. People said the merchant was as rich as the king himself, but the merchant was under no such delusions. He was rich enough to give his children anything they wanted, but that was the limit of his wealth.

One day, disaster struck the merchant. His house burned to the ground, and all his belongings were destroyed. That same day, word arrived that every ship he owned was lost at sea, either by shipwreck or fire, or because of piracy. Finally, he heard that some of his company managers had stolen the greater part of his profits. The merchant found himself suddenly in terrible poverty.

His only remaining property was a small cottage. The cottage was hundreds of miles away, and stood in the middle of a dark black forest. But the merchant had no choice but to move his family there. The children had hoped their friends would help them out, but their friends had vanished as quickly as their fortune. The family was to blame, they said. They had squandered their money on selfish pleasures, and had wasted all their savings.

When the family reached the cottage, there were no servants to see to their needs. The boys farmed to earn the family a living, while the girls worked in the garden to grow their food, and as well maintained the house as best they could.

The children were simply miserable. Only the youngest girl tried to be cheerful. Like the others, she'd been very upset about the sudden change in family fortunes. But soon she recovered her natural lightheartedness. She went out of her way to amuse her brothers and father, and urged her sisters to join her when she was dancing or singing. But her sisters wanted no part of her silliness, as they called it. If she could be content with such wretched conditions, she didn't deserve anything better, they said. But this was not true. She was far prettier than any of her sisters, and much more clever as well. Indeed, she was pretty and clever enough to be a real princess, and that is why they always called her Beauty.

Two years passed, and the pain of their poverty had become less sharp. Then one day, their father received news that one of his ships had not been lost after all, but had just arrived in port with a rich cargo. All the children clamored to return to town immediately, thinking that they had become rich again. But their father advised caution. Having news of gold was different from having the gold itself, he said. He would travel to town and make inquiries, but they must stay here and harvest the crops. But the children's excitement would not be dampened, and they plied their father with requests for presents from town. Only Beauty held herself back. Her father noticed her silence and said, "And what present should I bring for you, Beauty?"

"Only yourself," said Beauty. "To see you safely back will be my present."

"But I must bring you something," said her father. "It would give me such pleasure."

"All right, father," Beauty replied, "if you insist. When you're almost home again, if you see a rosebush, pick a rose for me. I haven't seen a rose since we came to live in the forest, and I do love roses very, very much."

The merchant left that afternoon, and his trip to town was long but uneventful. When he arrived, his cautious hopes were disappointed. His former partners had thought he was dead and had divided the ship's cargo among themselves. He spent six months trying to salvage something for his family, but recovered enough to pay for his trip, and no more.

It was winter by the time he made the trip home, and the weather became his enemy. The road was lost under the snow, and the blizzard made him blind. After three weeks of dreary slogging, he finally reached the forest, and was only a few hours from home. But his face stung, and the snow was too deep for his horse to go on, so he crawled into the hollow trunk of a large tree and had the worst night's sleep he'd ever had.

When he awoke, he found the snow had buried every path. As he tried to orient himself, it began to snow again, a thick, wet snow that made riding impossible and hid his footprints seconds after he made them. He struggled forward, and slipped and fell many times. But after a while, the snowfall thinned out, and walking became easier. Then it stopped snowing altogether, and he saw bare patches of ground on the path. Then the path veered suddenly to the left, and the merchant found himself standing in front of a large boulevard. The road was lined with orange trees and led up to a princely castle!

The merchant was dumbfounded. How could he have lived in the forest for two whole years without knowing that this castle even existed? Stranger still, how was it that snow fell everywhere else, but none fell in the boulevard leading to the castle? The trees lining the road were laden with fruit and flowers, and the breeze was pleasantly warm.

His first thought was to introduce himself to his neighbors. But the rooms of the castle were all empty, and a strange silence blanketed everything. Even his footsteps made no sound. The castle was also very warm, and he found himself growing sleepier with each step. So when he came upon a small room with a glowing fire and a soft couch, he eagerly sat down to rest. It was only a matter of seconds before he was sleeping soundly.

Several hours later, he woke up to find a plate of hot and delicious-smelling food on the table by his couch. He began to eat greedily, and didn't stop until the plate was clean. Then he lay back on the couch and slept until late afternoon. When he woke up again, he found a small plate of cakes and fruit on the table, and wasted no time devouring this snack. But when he had finished eating, the silence weighed on him more and more until he felt he was drowning in it. So he leapt from the couch and hurried outside into the palace garden.

"Here, at least, there is life," he said to himself, as he padded along the fresh green grass, smiling at the chaotic chant of the birds, and the proud parade of color that the flowers made in their bed. Everywhere else was winter; here was the heart of spring. The air itself seemed young and strong and playful.

A thought occurred to the merchant. "Perhaps some magical power has come to rescue us from poverty! I will leave this minute and bring the children here. They will be delighted with their new home."

He turned and marched toward the stable to fetch his horse. But suddenly his path lay between two huge rosebushes, and the roses were so rich and red, and their smell so delicate and cool, that the merchant came to an abrupt halt, and stared in wonder.

"I didn't know such beauty as this was possible in the world," he said to himself. And then he was reminded of his promise to Beauty. He felt sure that a rose from this bush would be the most precious gift he had ever given his daughter. He put his nose to one of the flowers and breathed in deeply. Then he gently stroked its glistening petals. And then, he plucked the flower from the bush.

No sooner was the rose in his hand than he heard a tremendous cracking sound behind him, as though a thousand trunks and branches had been broken all at once. He turned and saw a terrible Beast that had ripped apart the rosebush and stood snorting and stamping and growling and glaring at the merchant. Then the Beast began to speak in a dark, hollow voice that sounded like faraway thunder shaped into words.

"Who gave you the right to pick that flower?" The merchant trembled in fear. "I let you sleep on my couch. I let you eat at my table. I let you walk in my garden. But that was not enough. You had to steal from my rosebush as well. You had to take something that had not been given." The beast stamped and snorted again, and then stood absolutely still. Finally, in a voice so soft, it seemed the Beast was only mouthing the words, he said, "Who gave you the right to pick that flower?"

The merchant was so frightened that he dropped to his knees, and cried: "Please forgive me! I wanted to thank you for the food and for allowing me to rest, but I couldn't find you in the palace. I didn't think you'd be so angry about my picking one of your roses. It's only a rose, after all."

The Beast stared hatred at the merchant. "How would you know what the flower is worth? It isn't yours to value. As to thanking me, you could have thanked me well enough by leaving my rosebush untouched. These roses were the pride of my garden. You have destroyed them, and for that you must die."

The merchant began to cry. "If only Beauty had known what she was asking when she asked for her rose!" he thought to himself. Then he began to tell the Beast his story, about his fall from riches to poverty, and why he had made the trip to town, and the request that Beauty had made.

"A king's ransom wouldn't have bought the presents my other children asked for, and I will have to disappoint them. But when I saw your roses, I thought at least I could make Beauty happy. Please forgive me. I meant no harm."

The Beast turned his stare away from the merchant and looked down at the ground. He seemed less angry now. After a few seconds, he said, "I will forgive you..." He paused before continuing. "I will forgive you--if you give me one of your daughters."

The merchant shut his eyes in despair. "I could never trade my life for one of theirs. And I couldn't lie to one of them, and promise her a bright future, when all the while I was leading her to her death."

"You are not to lie," replied the Beast. "You have to tell the truth. If one of them comes, she must come willingly. I will not accept her otherwise. Tomorrow you will go home. I will give you one month. See if you have a daughter who is brave enough, or who loves you enough, to come back here and save your life. If none is willing, you must come alone after the month is done. You will belong to me, then, and never see your family again. And don't even think of cheating me: for you, nowhere is safe, and hiding is impossible."

The merchant agreed to tell his daughters of the Beast's proposal, although he couldn't imagine that any would agree to it, and promised to return in a month. Then he asked the Beast if he could leave that day, rather than wait until the next.

"You will leave tomorrow," said the Beast. "Tomorrow your horse will be ready for you. Now, go and eat the supper I have prepared, and wait for my orders."

The merchant crept sullenly back to his room. His supper was waiting, and to anyone but the merchant it would have been delicious. But the merchant was so sad and scared, he had no taste for food. He ate a few bites from some of the dishes, but only because he thought the Beast would be angry if he didn't. As soon as he had swallowed his last mouthful, he heard the thunderous steps of the Beast pounding towards his room.

"Did you eat well?" asked the Beast. The merchant assured him that he had. Then the Beast reminded the merchant of their agreement, and again warned him to tell his daughters exactly what to expect.

"Tomorrow," he added, "you are not to get up until sunrise, when you will hear a golden bell begin to ring. Your breakfast will be here on the table, and your horse will be waiting in the courtyard. A month from now, the horse will bring you back. Don't worry; it knows the way. There is one last thing: in the morning, before you leave, please pick a rose from the rosebush and carry it home to Beauty."

Sleep did not come to the merchant that night. He waited despondently in bed until the sun's first light shot into the sky and the golden bell signalled that his breakfast was ready. He ate quickly, and then ran out of the palace to the path between the rosebushes, where he picked Beauty's rose. Finally, he mounted his horse, and began the ride home. The horse needed no guidance from the merchant, and galloped much more quickly than he'd ever done before. However, the merchant was far too gloomy to notice either of these things. He was still wrapped in gloom when he arrived at the cottage.

Because he'd been away so long, his children had been very worried about him, and now they rushed outside to welcome him. They were also hungry for news of his trip. He was on a magnificent horse with a splendid mantle, and so they dared to hope for the best. The merchant held back the truth at first, dropping a hint only when he handed the rose to Beauty. He said, "I have brought you what you asked, Beauty. At what cost, I don't know."

But soon he had to tell the whole story. The children's excitement began to fade immediately, and by the story's end, they were all very unhappy. The girls despaired at the thought of losing their father. The boys took a different approach, and said their father should break his promise to the Beast. They began to make plans to kill the Beast if ever he should appear. But the merchant said that he was an honest man, and would not break his promise. Then the girls turned on Beauty, and said that if she had asked for a sensible gift, none of this would have happened. Why, they asked, should everyone suffer for Beauty's mistake? Beauty looked at her sisters sadly.

"If you think I did something wrong," she said, "I'm sure you are mistaken. My wish was an innocent wish, and I could not know the future. But it's true: we're being punished only because of my request. If I hadn't asked father for a rose, we'd have no quarrel with the Beast. Therefore, I will gladly take the punishment, and return with father in a month's time to help him keep his promise."

Beauty's father would not hear of it, and the children declared they would try all means to prevent her from leaving. But Beauty was firm. When the month was nearly up, she collected all her possessions together and shared them out among her sisters. Finally the fateful day arrived. Beauty pretended to be cheerful, and hid her fear beneath an encouraging smile. Her father begged her to change her mind, but she would have none of it. As soon as they were secure in the saddle, the horse took off, and it galloped so quickly and smoothly that Beauty felt as though she was sitting on the back of a great bird. Indeed, she would have found the trip thrilling had she not been so afraid of its outcome.

During the last leg of their journey, colored lights began to glow in the trees around them, and the sky in front suddenly erupted in a display of fireworks. As well, the air lost its bitter chill and grew pleasantly warm. Then they reached the boulevard lined with orange trees. On each side of the boulevard, the Beast had placed statues, and the statues were holding flaming torches. At the end of the boulevard, the castle shone with unimaginable light. It seemed that while everywhere else was night, here it was the middle of the day. Strains of music reached them from the courtyard of the castle.

Beauty wavered between fear and wonder. "It's hard to believe I've come here to die," she said. "Everything is so splendid. The Beast must be very hungry to make such a fuss over the arrival of his dinner."

They dismounted at the palace steps, and her father led Beauty through the castle to the room with the couch and fire. A wonderful supper lay ready on the table. Having walked through so much of the castle without seeing anything of the Beast, Beauty was less frightened than she had been, and the sight of food reminded her of how hungry she was. Both father and daughter enjoyed a long, hearty, and almost cheerful meal. But no sooner had they cleared their plates and laid down their forks than they heard the booming steps of the Beast approaching their room.

Beauty grabbed her father's hand in terror, but found no comfort there: he was just as frightened as she was. So she made herself brave, and when the Beast appeared, she looked him in the face, although her lip was quivering in fear.

This seemed to please the Beast. When he spoke, his voice was black and empty and growling, but he didn't seem to be angry.

"Good evening, old man. Good evening, Beauty," he said.

"Good evening, Beast," said Beauty.

"Have you come willingly?"

"My father is a good man. He did not force me here. I chose to come."

"Will you stay willingly?"

"Yes. If it means you will spare my father's life, I will stay willingly."

The Beast gave Beauty a long, piercing look. Then he turned his glance aside. "You please me very much," he said. "You have come freely. You may stay in your father's place." The Beast then looked at her father. "You have a very brave daughter, old man. You need fear nothing more from me. Tomorrow at sunrise, when the golden bell begins to ring, you will find your breakfast on the table and your horse in the courtyard. But remember: you must have no hope of ever returning here while I am alive."

Then the Beast turned to Beauty and said, "I have some things of value in the next room. I would like to make a present of them to your family. You will find two large trunks on the floor. Fill them as full as you can." The Beast then wished them both goodnight and left Beauty and her father to themselves.

Beauty was anxious to obey the Beast's orders; perhaps if she continued to please him, he would not kill her. As well, she was glad to spend her last moments with her father in the happy task of selecting presents for her family. So Beauty hurried her father into the next room. Both were dazzled by the treasure that they found there.

Beauty was first drawn to a rack on which dozens of ballroom gowns were hanging. She stroked them lightly, thinking how wonderful her sisters would look in them. Then she opened a cupboard and stepped back in amazement. Every shelf was piled high with gleaming jewels. She picked out the ones her sisters would like the most and packed them along with the dresses she had chosen for them. Then Beauty opened a final cupboard. It contained only a large wooden chest, but when she lifted the lid she found it was full of gold.

"We've been too hasty, father," she called out. "This cupboard has something much more valuable than any of the things we've packed." So they unpacked the dresses and jewels, and transferred the gold from the wooden chest to the trunks. But still there was room. So they packed the dresses and jewels back in the trunks--but still there was room. So Beauty went back to the cupboard with the jewels and stripped the shelves of even their amethyst, amber, and jade. And still there was room in the trunks.

"This is a trick!" cried the merchant. "Not even an elephant could carry this trunk! The Beast is making fun of us. He knows I can't even move the trunk from this room, let alone transport it home."

"Let's wait until morning and see what happens," replied Beauty. "He kept his word about sparing your life. I'm sure he will keep his word this time as well." Then Beauty closed the trunks and led her father back to his room. They were both very tired, and the warmth of the fire cut short their talk and soon they fell asleep.

The golden bell woke them the next day, and the merchant ate his breakfast eagerly. The trunks had been removed from the room next door, and the merchant was now hopeful that the Beast was as generous as Beauty had supposed. This also made him hope that the Beast would allow him to come back soon and visit Beauty. But Beauty was sure that her father was leaving forever, and so was sad and didn't touch her food.

The bell soon rang a second time, the sign for the merchant to leave. Beauty accompanied him to the courtyard, where two horses were pawing the ground, impatient to be on their way. One horse bore the two trunks; the merchant would ride the other. Beauty clung to her father, but the merchant's horse tossed its head from side to side and whinnied wildly. The merchant attempted to calm the horse by mounting it, but no sooner was he in the saddle than the horse bolted away. Seconds later, the horse had vanished from sight.

Beauty hung her head, and slowly returned to her room. She sat on the couch with her hands tightly clasped, and her arms held stiff against her body. She felt small and frightened and alone.

Eventually, she cried herself to sleep. Then she dreamed that she was walking by a stream in the woods, with tears flowing freely down her face. Suddenly, a young prince came out of the woods. Beauty had never known a man so handsome, and when he spoke, his voice was warm and full and it seemed to cradle her heart. "Hush, now," he said. "No more tears. You think that all is lost, but that's not true. Listen to me. You are on the brink of a happiness greater than any you have known. All your wishes will come true. I love you, Beauty, with all my heart. But I am a prisoner, like you, and only you can find me. Will you find me, Beauty? That is where your happiness lies. In making me happy, you will discover your true self, just as I will recover mine, if you allow me to love you and make you happy forever."

"How will I find you?" asked Beauty.

"You will find me through an act of kindness that even you, the kindest heart in the world, have not yet dreamed of. Always listen to your heart, Beauty. Meanwhile, be thankful for what you have, and remember that things are often not as they seem. But promise me one thing: promise that you won't give up, that you will search until you find me and rescue me from my unhappy prison."

Before she could give the prince her word, her dream suddenly changed, and she found herself in a huge ball room with an elegantly-dressed woman. The woman said, "You mourn the past. Instead, look to the future. Only the future can heal the wounds of the past. But don't let yourself be deceived by appearances. Things are not always as they seem, Beauty."

Beauty's dreams were much more pleasant than her life alone in a castle with a hideous Beast, and she had no wish to wake up. But a little clock whispered her name twelve times and roused her from her bed. She washed her face, which still had traces of earlier tears. Then she ate the lunch that had been set on the table for her. That was quick work: eating alone never takes very long. Soon she was curled up on the sofa, and thinking of the Prince who was imprisoned in her dream.

"He said that I would make him happy," she said to herself. "All I have to do is find him. Maybe that horrible Beast is keeping him prisoner somewhere in the castle. But how can an act of kindness set anyone free? And why did they both warn me not to trust my own eyes? I don't understand any of this. However, it was only a dream, so none of it matters anyway. I wonder what there is to do in this castle."

She got up and began to wander through the castle, exploring room after room. The first one she came to had mirrors lining every wall, and Beauty thought she had never seen a prettier room. Then she saw something hanging from the chandelier in the middle of the room. It was a locket hanging from its chain. She took it down and tried it around her neck. It suited her perfectly, she thought, as she admired it in the mirror. Then she examined the locket more carefully and opened its lid. There, staring back at her, was a tiny portrait of the Prince she had dreamed about this morning! So the dream must have been more than just a dream!

She tucked the locket under her blouse so that it lay as near to her heart as possible. Then she went into the next room. This was a picture gallery, and she guessed that the paintings were portraits of all the people who had ever owned the castle. Where she had entered, the paintings were very old, but as she walked up the gallery, they gradually became more and more recent. Then she came to the very last painting in the room, and it was a life-sized portrait of her Prince! It was so well painted that she could almost believe it was the Prince himself staring down at her, smiling and urging her silently to find his hiding place.

It took Beauty great effort to tear herself away from the portrait. But, she reasoned, the Prince could not be hiding in the painting, and so she must continue to explore. The next room she entered was a music room. There were more instruments there than she could count, and she played and sang until she was quite tired. Then she came to a library that contained every book she had ever read, and every book she had ever wanted to read, and so many more that she thought it would take a lifetime to read only the titles.

It was beginning to grow dark, and the candles in their diamond and ruby candlesticks burst into flame all by themselves. Beauty found she was hungry and so she made her way back to her room, wondering what her supper would be. As it turned out, the food on the table was exactly what she wanted. But even though it seemed delicious, she couldn't enjoy the food, because apart from the sounds that she herself made, there was nothing but stony silence. And although she had amused herself well that afternoon, she had no one to talk to and share her experiences with.

Then she heard the great crashing steps of the Beast in the hall, and she began to tremble, wondering if these would be her final moments. But when he appeared, he didn't seem fierce or menacing, and merely said, "Good evening, Beauty," before he sat down. Then he asked her about how she had spent her afternoon. Although she was still nervous, Beauty was glad to tell the Beast about the rooms she had explored.

"Could you ever be happy living here, Beauty?" the Beast asked.

"Everything here is very beautiful," she said. "I would have to be very hard to please not to like it here."

"Ah," said the Beast. And then he began to tell her about some other rooms in the castle that might interest her. They talked for about an hour, and Beauty began to think the Beast was not so dreadful as he had first appeared. At length he rose from his chair and made ready to leave. But when he reached the door, he paused, and turned his body half a turn towards her. He looked at the floor, and in a quiet voice, he asked, "Do you love me, Beauty? Will you marry me?"

Beauty gasped. "I don't know what to say!" she cried. She was terrified that if she refused him, the Beast would fly into a rage.

"Say what your heart is saying," he replied. "You have nothing to fear from me."

"Then no thank you," said Beauty very quickly.

The Beast nodded his head. "Then... goodnight, Beauty," he said.

Beauty was relieved that he had taken her refusal so calmly. "Goodnight, Beast," she said. Soon after he left, she collapsed on the bed and fell asleep, so tired was she from the day. And at once she was dreaming of her Prince, but tonight he seemed very sad. "Oh, Beauty," he said, "How can you be so cruel? How long must I live out my life in this way?"

Then Beauty's dream changed, and changed again, but her Prince was in every scene. And when she awoke the next morning, Beauty raced to the picture gallery to see if the portrait on the wall was really the same as her dream Prince. As she gazed up at the picture, and it stared down at her, she was certain the two princes were the same.

This morning the fountains were sparkling like diamonds in the bright sunshine, so Beauty decided to spend the morning in the garden. Everything seemed strangely familiar to her. She walked along a stream that led into some woods, and soon she came to the exact place she had met the Prince in her dream. Now she was sure he must be a prisoner of the Beast.

She returned to her room at noon, and after she had eaten a small lunch, she decided to explore more of the castle. One room that she found was full of fabric of every kind, from huge bolts of heavy curtain material to small pieces of silk for making artificial flowers. Another room was full of rare birds. Some were so tame they perched on her hand.

"Oh!" she cried in delight. "You are so adorable! I wish your room were nearer to mine, so I could hear you sing each morning."

Then she opened the door to leave, and was staggered to find that the room next door was her own. "Now, that's strange," she said to herself. "I thought I was on the other side of the palace!"

Further on, she found another bird-room. This one had talking birds like parrots and cockatoos that even knew Beauty's name. She was so charmed by the parrots that she took two of them back to her room, and they chatted away while she ate. When she was done, the Beast arrived and spent his hour with Beauty. Then he went to leave, but once again he stopped when he reached the door. In the same quiet voice as before, he asked, "Do you love me, Beauty? Will you marry me?"

"I'm sorry, Beast," she said.

The Beast said goodnight and left her alone. Beauty went to bed and dreamed again of her elusive prince.

Beauty spent the next day, and the next, and many days thereafter, exploring the castle and visiting the garden. One of her favorite rooms was one she hadn't liked at all the first time she found it. The room was round and completely empty except for eight chairs. The chairs each faced a large window, but each window was covered with a black curtain, making it impossible to see outside. The second time she stumbled upon this room, she wouldn't have bothered going in, but she was tired, and so decided to rest in one of the chairs. The curtains opened immediately, and Beauty was treated to a performance of music and dance she found enchanting. Then she tried each of the other seven chairs in turn, and whenever she sat down, a different show would appear. This room made her days much less lonely.

Every evening, the Beast would come and spend his hour with Beauty, and he would always stop at the door as he was leaving and ask, "Do you love me, Beauty? Will you marry me?" And she would always reply, "I'm sorry, Beast." Now that she knew him better, she was sure that her nightly refusal left him feeling very sad. This troubled her. But then she would go to sleep and dream her happy dreams of the Prince, and all thoughts of the Beast would disappear. The only thing that troubled her then was the constant reminder that things were often not what they seemed to be, and that she should always listen carefully to her heart. She couldn't understand how this advice would be of help in her search for the Prince.

So the days went by, some slowly and some more quickly, until many months had passed since the day she had left her family. One night, the Beast could see that Beauty was very sad, and he said, "What is it, Beauty? What's the matter?"

By now, Beauty had lost all fear of the Beast. She paid no attention to his terrible face and raspy voice. She knew the Beast was a gentle, caring creature. So Beauty answered truthfully. She wanted to go home and see her family again.

The Beast lowered his head and closed his eyes. He was crying softly to himself. "Oh, Beauty!" he said. "Is this the voice of your heart? Haven't I tried to make you happy? Do you hate me so much?"

"No," said Beauty in a soft voice, "I don't hate you at all. I am really quite happy here, but I miss my father and my brothers and sisters. If I could just visit for a couple of months, I would be so happy. Then I would come back here and stay with you for the rest of my life. I promise."

The Beast had stopped his tears but was sighing loudly while she spoke. He said, "Beauty, I cannot refuse you your wishes, whatever they may be. I was never your jailer; you were always free to leave the castle. Anything you do, you must do willingly."

The Beast climbed to his feet. "I must go. In the next room there are four boxes. Take what you need for the journey. But remember your promise. At the end of two months, you must come back. If you don't, I will think you have abandoned me, and will surely die of loneliness."

The Beast then reached in his pocket and took out a ring. "Take this," he said. "When you want to come back, bid your family goodbye, and when you're in bed put this ring on your finger and say these words: `I wish to return to my palace, and to see my Beast again.' The ring will bring you home; you'll have no need of a horse and carriage. Now I will say goodnight. Fear nothing, and sleep well. Soon, you'll be back in your father's house again."

As soon as the Beast left, she began to pack. It was only when she had grown quite tired of packing that the boxes suddenly seemed to be full. Then she went to bed, but was too excited to fall asleep right away. Finally, she drifted off and began to dream of her Prince. But this was not a happy dream. The Prince was lying on the bank of a stream and he seemed weak and listless, not at all himself.

"What's the matter?" cried Beauty.

The Prince raised his head a little and looked at her sullenly. "You said you would rescue me, but now you're leaving. The only life I have is the one in your dreams, and you are taking those away with you. Are you leaving me to die, Beauty?"

"Oh, Prince. Don't be so sad. I'm worried about my father. I want to tell him that I'm safe and well and happy," said Beauty. "The Beast said he would die of loneliness if I didn't come back, and I promised him that I would."

"What would it matter if the Beast died? Surely you don't care about him!" said the Prince.

"I certainly do!" cried Beauty indignantly. "He is the kindest creature I have ever met. It's not his fault that he's ugly, you know. If dying meant saving him from pain, I would gladly die."

Just then something startled her from her sleep. She could hear voices just beyond the door. But that was not her door, and this was not her room! Where was she? She got up and dressed herself quickly while she looked around the room. There were the boxes she'd packed the night before! Then she heard her father's voice and rushed out of the room and threw her arms around him.

Her brothers and sisters were amazed at her sudden appearance, for they had thought they'd never see Beauty again. They gave her all the news about their lives, and she gave them all the news about hers, and the talk was very excited, until Beauty dampened things by saying that she was staying for only two months. But this gave her the chance to ask her father something. It was a question she'd been thinking about for a long time now. She asked him what the meaning of her dreams might be, and why her Prince was constantly saying that things were often not the way they seemed.

Her father stroked his chin thoughtfully. "You say that the Beast loves you and wants to marry you. You also say that he's gentle and kind, and is deserving of your love. I think the Prince is telling you to marry the Beast, in spite of all his ugliness."

Beauty thought her father was probably right. Still, in her dreams, the Prince had not asked Beauty to marry the Beast, but to marry him, and if only her Prince were real, she would marry him in an instant. But she didn't want to think about this now; not now, or any day in the next two months. She wanted to have fun with her sisters, so she banished the Beast from her mind.

It was true that her family was rich, and lived in town, and had a lot of friends. But Beauty soon found that her new life wasn't nearly as fun as her old one was. She often thought of the castle and surprised herself a little when she realized how happy she had been there. As well, she had not once dreamed of the Prince since her arrival, and this made her sad.

Now that the merchant's children were older, they led their own lives, and ties between them were not as close as they had been. So when two months had passed, Beauty was ready to leave and go back to the Beast's castle. But one child or another, who had neglected Beauty during her visit, would beg her to stay on, and so Beauty's departure was delayed. Then one night she had a terrible dream. She was walking in a lonely part of the palace gardens when she heard something groaning. She raced down the path and found the Beast behind some bushes in a cave. He was stretched out on his side and was listless and weak. He scolded her gently for reducing him to this state. Then an elegantly-dressed woman appeared and said, "You are only just in time to save his life. When you broke your promise to return, you shattered his hope."

This dream so frightened Beauty that the next morning she told her family she planned to leave that night without fail. Before she went to bed, she said goodbye to everyone, and as soon as she lay beneath the covers, she put on her ring and said, "I wish to return to my palace, and to see my Beast again."

She fell asleep at once and woke up to hear a little clock whispering, "Beauty, Beauty," twelve times. She opened her eyes and smiled happily, for she was back in her own room again. She got dressed and ran through the castle and out into the garden. Everything was just the same, and the whole castle seemed happy to see her again. But in spite of that, the day was longer than any she could remember. She was so anxious about the Beast that every hour seemed to have twice the number of minutes it usually had.

Finally it was supper time. But no supper arrived. Beauty hardly cared about that, though. It was the Beast she was concerned with. Beauty waited for the Beast to appear as he always did. But tonight he did not come. Where was the familiar crashing step? Did he not know the time? She waited and waited and still the Beast was missing. Finally, she could no longer stand it, and raced down into the garden, determined to search for him until she found him. She ran up and down the paths, and called for him constantly, and looked in every place. But no one answered her calls, and there was no trace of the Beast. Finally, she stopped to catch her breath, and noticed that there was something strangely familiar about this part of the garden. This was the path she had seen in her dreams. In the distance she saw the bushes that hid the cave. She ran down the path, pulled the bushes aside, and there, lying on the ground, was the Beast. He seemed to be asleep. Beauty rushed up to him and began to stroke his head. But the Beast didn't move and his eyes remained closed.

Beauty jumped back in horror. "He's dead," she sobbed, "and I have killed him."

But he seemed to be breathing little shallow breaths, so she fetched some water from the fountain and splashed it on his face. At last, but slowly and with great pain, the Beast opened his eyes.

"Thank goodness," whispered Beauty. She took his hand and said, "I'm so glad you're alive. I didn't know how much I loved you until now, when I almost lost you."

"Do you love me, Beauty? Can you really love such ugliness?" asked the Beast.

"I see the kind heart beneath. It is your heart that I love. The rest is nothing to me," said Beauty.

Tears grew large in the Beast's eyes. "Supper is ready," he said. "Go. I will join you in a while."

Beauty went back to her room and ate her supper. She was very thoughtful. She loved the Prince, that she knew. But the Prince lived only in her dreams. Even if he were somehow real, he was hidden by a magic she was powerless to undo. She also loved the Beast, whose heart was as good and strong and honest as the Prince's. But the Beast lived in the waking part of the world, and his breaking heart was passionately real.

The Beast arrived just as she had finished, as he always did. They talked about her visit, and her family, and the town. "But I realized something when I was there," Beauty said. "I realized that this castle is my home. I'm so glad to be home!"

"I'm glad to see you home," said the Beast.

Then he got up and made to say goodnight. But at the door he paused, and then he turned his body half a turn towards her. He looked at the floor, and in the same quiet voice he always had, he asked, "Do you love me, Beauty? Will you marry me?"

"Yes, Beast," she said.

Thunder roared and lightning cracked and then fireworks exploded from every corner of the garden, making night into day. Beauty turned to ask the Beast what this meant, but the Beast had vanished, and in his place stood the Prince of her dreams! Then two ladies came into the room. The first was the elegantly-dressed woman from her dreams. The other was equally elegant, and Beauty didn't know who to greet first.

The woman she knew said to her companion, "Queen, this is Beauty. She is the one who has courageously rescued your son from his terrible enchantment. They love each other and are only awaiting your consent before getting married."

"Then they should wait no longer," said the Queen. "How can I ever thank you for giving my son back his real appearance?" She kissed Beauty on the forehead and hugged her son.

Then the other one, who was a Fairy, said to Beauty, "Shall I send for your brothers and sisters so they can dance at your wedding?"

Beauty was so happy, she could barely speak. In the presence of her family and the Queen, she was married to the Prince the very next day, and the two of them lived happily ever after.

SNOW-WHITE AND ROSE-RED

Once there was a widow who had two young daughters. They all lived together in a cottage with a garden, and in the garden were two rosebushes, one white and one red. The widow thought her children were as lovely as roses, and so she called the first Rose-red and the other Snow-white.

The girls were the sweetest and best in the world, always cheerful and always diligent. Rose-red was the livelier of the two. She loved to run in the fields, picking flowers and catching butterflies. Snow-white was quieter and gentler. She liked to stay at home and help her mother, and she would often read aloud when there was no more work to do.

The children loved each other very much, and always held hands when they went out together. Snow-white would often say, "We will never ever be apart." Rose-red would answer, "Not for as long as we live." Their mother would always add, "Whatever belongs to one belongs to both."

They often went to the forest by themselves to gather berries. The animals neither attacked nor ran away. They were like friends to the girls and trusted them completely. The little hares would eat cabbage leaves right out of their hands. The deer would graze beside them, or spring by playfully. And instead of flying off, the birds remained in the trees and sang with all their might.

No harm ever came to the girls. If they stayed so long in the forest that the evening caught them unawares, they would find some moss on the forest floor and sleep there till the morning came. Their mother knew they were safe, and never worried.

Once, they woke in the forest and found that someone had been watching them as they slept. It was a beautiful child in a shining white robe. As the girls were rubbing the sleep from their eyes, the child stood up and a tiny smile passed quickly across its face. Then it left without a word and vanished into the wood.

They soon discovered they had spent the night on the edge of a steep cliff. Had they walked any further in the dark, they would surely have tumbled to their deaths. Their mother told the girls that the child was probably a fairy, whose job it was to keep good children safe.

The girls kept the cottage so clean and neat that it was a pleasure to be inside. Rose-red looked after the house during the summer, and every morning before her mother awoke, she picked two roses, one red and one white, and laid them on the table by her mother's bed. In the wintertime, Snow-white lit the fire and put the kettle on. The kettle was made of brass, but was polished so well that it shone like gold. In the evening when the snowflakes fell, their mother would always say, "Snow-white, go and bolt the door." Then they would gather round the fire, and the girls would sit and spin and listen to their mother as she read them stories from a big old book. On the ground beside them lay a little lamb, and perched behind was a little white dove, with its head tucked under its wing.

One evening, they were sitting by the fire when someone knocked on the door. The mother said, "Open the door, Rose-red. It must be a traveler seeking shelter." Rose-red unbolted the door and was startled to find that the visitor was not a man, but a huge and hairy grizzly bear instead. When the bear poked his thick brown head through the door, she backed away quickly and sharply drew her breath. The lamb bleated loudly and the dove flapped its wings, and Snow-white hid herself behind her mother's bed.

But the bear suddenly spoke, saying, "Please don't be afraid. You are all safe with me. I knocked because I'm frozen stiff. I hoped that I could warm myself a little by the fire."

"You poor bear," said the mother. "Quickly, come inside and close the door. Then stretch yourself out on the hearth in front of the fire. But keep an eye on the sparks." Then she called to her children. "Snow-white! Rose-red! Come and see the bear. He's quite harmless." Both the girls went over, and soon the lamb and the dove forgot their fear as well, and settled near the bear.

After a while the bear asked the children to brush some of the snow out of his fur. So they fetched a couple of brooms with sturdy bristles and swept his matted fur until it was clean. The bear then snuggled against the floor until he was comfortable, and then lay perfectly still with his eyes half-closed, humming and growling happily to himself.

It wasn't long before the girls were wholly at home with the bear. They tugged at his fur, and crawled on top of him, and pushed and pushed until they rolled him over, and poked and tickled and teased him brazenly with the branch of a willow. The bear let them play with him however they wished, and only when they went too far would he say, "Girls! Girls! Have a little mercy, please!" Then he would sing in a low grumbling voice:

Savage Snow-white and ruthless Rose-red

Don't torture your lover until he's dead!

At last it was time for the girls to go to sleep. Then the mother spoke to the bear. "Spend the night on the hearth," she said. "I won't have you out in the cold and the wet."

At dawn the next day, the children opened the door and let him out. He lumbered over the snow and into the wood. But from that time on, he reappeared each night at the selfsame hour, and lay on the hearth, and let the children play as much as they liked. The bear was such a fixture in the house that they never bolted the door until he was home.

Winter passed and spring arrived, and all the trees in the forest were green again. One day, as the bear was leaving, he said to Snow-white, "Don't wait for me tonight. From now until the fall I will stay in the forest."

"But why?" replied Snow-white. "You're welcome here."

"My treasure is at risk," said the bear. "The dwarfs who live beneath the earth stay in their homes in the winter. The ground is hard, and so their shovels break if they try to dig through to the surface. But now, the sun has brought the land to life again. The ground is warm and yielding. The dwarfs will shovel their way to the top, and sneak around, and steal whatever they can. And when something disappears into their caves, it rarely sees the light of day again."

Snow-white was sad that the bear was leaving. But she opened the door without a word, and the bear hurried on his way. But a strange thing happened as he went through the door. A piece of his fur was snagged on the latch, and for an instant, Snow-white thought she saw a flash of glittering gold beneath the fur. But she couldn't be sure, and the bear was soon out of sight.

A short time after this, the mother sent the girls into the forest for firewood. It wasn't long before they saw a large tree in the distance that had been chopped down and was lying on the ground. There was something hopping up and down on the trunk, but they couldn't see what it was. It was only when they reached the tree that it finally came into focus. It was a dwarf with a leathery squinched-up face and a long white beard that went all the way down to his feet.

The beard appeared to be stuck in the tree. The little man was dancing about like a dog on a chain and tugging the beard with all his might. He glared at the girls with his fiery eyes, and screamed, "Why are you just standing there? Get over here and help, for goodness' sake!"

"What happened to you?" Rose-red asked.

"It's none of your business, you stupid little girl!" spat the dwarf. He looked at the tree, at his beard, at the girls. "I was splitting the trunk," he said, in a clipped and deliberate voice. "I was hammering in the wedge, and everything was fine, but the stupid wedge was wet and so it popped out of the tree. Then the wood snapped shut like a pair of giant jaws. And my beard–my beautiful beard–was stuck in the tree! But what do you care? You just stand and stare and giggle behind your hands! I hate you!"

The girls did everything they could to help, but the tree would not let go of the beard. Finally, Rose-red gave up.

"I'll go and get someone," she said.

"You idiot," said the dwarf. "What's the good of getting someone! Anyway, there are two of you here already, and that's more than enough for me! Think of something, for goodness' sake!"

"Don't be such a grouch," said Snow-white. "I have thought of something." She took a pair of scissors out of her pocket and snipped off the end of his beard.

No sooner was he free than he leapt to the ground and grabbed a bag of gold he had hidden between the roots of the tree. He swung it over his shoulder as he muttered to himself. "What a stupid, stupid little girl, cutting off some of my beautiful beard!" Then he scurried off like a frightened spider, without so much as a backward glance.

Not long afterwards, the girls went fishing. A little way down the stream, they saw what seemed to be a grasshopper, but a grasshopper the size of a cat. It was bounding towards the water's edge as if it wanted to jump in the stream. The children ran along the bank, and soon they recognized their friend the dwarf.

"What are you doing?" Rose-red asked. "Are you going in the water with all your clothes on?"

"Do you think I'm a fool?" screamed the dwarf. He pointed with his finger to the stream. "That fish is trying kill me!"

The dwarf had been fishing for his dinner, when suddenly a gust of wind had whipped his beard around the line. At that very moment he had hooked a powerful fish. Now the fish was dragging him around like a kite dragging its tail. Every couple of feet he hit a rock, and for a second he was stuck, but then the fish pulled twice as hard and he went flying through the air. He grabbed at the grass and the rushes on the bank, but his strength was nothing compared to that of the fish.

The girls arrived just in time to prevent the dwarf from bouncing into the water. They did what they could to untwist his beard, but the task was truly impossible. There was nothing left to do but get the scissors and cut the beard.

When the dwarf saw what they had done, he shrieked.

"You stupid, stupid, stupid little girl!" He grabbed his beard, which now went down no further than his chest. "You're nothing but a savage! You've butchered my beautiful beard! You couldn't just give me a trim, could you! You had to cut the whole thing off! I can't bear it! I can't let anyone see me like this! I hope that on your wedding day, the devil cuts the nose right off your face! Then you'll know what it's like to lose a beard!" He grabbed a sack of pearls he had hidden among the rushes, and he and the sack then vanished beneath a rock.

Not long afterwards, the girls were sent to town by their mother. She wanted needles and thread, and she asked them to buy some laces and ribbons too. The way to town was across a barren field that had boulders scattered here and there. In the sky ahead, they saw an eagle that was slowly circling down to earth. It landed on the ground beside a rock and suddenly they heard a piercing cry. They ran in the direction of the noise, and were horrified to see that the bird had their old friend the dwarf in its claws and was flexing its wings to carry him off.

The children grabbed hold of the dwarf and struggled so fiercely that the bird abandoned his prey and took to the skies.

The dwarf was in shock, but he soon recovered. "Did you have to be so rough?" he screamed. "Look at my coat, for goodness' sake! Does it look like a coat? It's more like strips of cloth! The two of you are great big stupids!" Then he grabbed a bag of precious stones and crawled under a rock and into his cave.

By now, the girls had grown accustomed to the dwarf's unthankful nature, so they just ignored his words, and continued on their way. After they had bought their things in town, they were once again crossing the field when they surprised the dwarf. He had emptied a bag of precious stones on the ground, and was inspecting them when the children came by. The stones seemed almost to be dancing as they gleamed in the light of the evening sun. The children stopped and gazed at them in wonder.

"What are you gaping at, you stupid girls?" The dwarf was red with rage and had knives in his eyes. He was poised to go on with his rant when he suddenly heard a sound behind him. It was an ominous growl, fierce and very loud.

He turned and saw a huge brown bear come trotting out of the forest. The dwarf began to shake with fear and frantically looked around for somewhere to hide. But the bear was already much too near.

So he fell to his knees and pleaded for his life. "Dear Mister Bear," he said, "please don't kill me! I'll give you everything I own! Look there, on the ground. Don't you think they're beautiful? I don't deserve to die! And I'm sure I'd make a terrible meal! Just look at me! I'm skinny, and I'm old and tough, and I probably taste like crumbling powdery wood! But I bet those girls would make a tasty treat! And they are wicked girls, they're very bad, but nice and fat and juicy just like Rock Cornish hens!"

The bear ignored the dwarf and raised his paw, and with a single blow he silenced him forever.

The girls had begun to run away when the bear called out to them. "Snow-white! Rose-red! Please don't be afraid! Let's walk home together."

They recognized his voice and so the girls stopped running and turned to greet their old friend. He sauntered up to them and then, to their astonishment, his bearskin suddenly fell off. There stood a handsome young man, dressed in gold.

"My father is a king," he said. "I was under the spell of that evil dwarf. He stole my treasure and turned me into a bear, condemned to roam the woods until his death, which would finally set me free. Now he has the punishment he deserves."

Snow-white eventually married the prince, and Rose-red married his brother. The dwarf had amassed a huge hoard of treasure in his cave, and this they divided between themselves. The mother moved from the cottage to the castle, but took the rosebushes with her. She lived for many happy years, and every year the roses were lovelier than before.

WHY THE SEA IS SALTY

Once upon a time, and long, long ago, there was a pair of brothers, and one of them was rich while the other one was poor. One Christmas Eve, the poor one found himself with nothing at all in the house to eat. So he went to his brother, and he begged him to give him something for Christmas Day. The wealthy brother frowned and pursed his lips, because, as he had so often said, he didn't get rich by giving things away, and this was hardly the first time that his brother was counting on his charity.

"If you do what I tell you to do, I will give you an entire roast of ham," he said. His brother gave his word at once.

"Good," he said. "Let me give you the ham." He tossed the piece of meat to his brother. "Now, here's what I want you to do. Take that ham, and then go straight to Dead Man's Hall."

"A promise is a promise," said the other, and took the ham and set off on his way. He traveled all day long and then at night he came to a place that was brightly lit.

"This must be the place," he thought to himself.

An old, old man with a long white beard was standing on the veranda chopping wood.

"Good evening," said the penniless brother.

"Good evening to you as well," said the man. "And where are you going at such a late hour?"

"I'm going to Dead Man's Hall," he said. "At least, that's where I'm going if I'm on the right road."

"This is the road, all right," the man replied. "This building behind me is Dead Man's Hall."

"Oh," said the brother. "Here I am, then." He looked at the door and hesitated.

"Were you just going to the hall, or did you plan to go in as well? If you go in, everyone there will want to buy that ham. There's never much meat in the hall, you know. But don't you sell it unless they give you the pepper mill that sits on the table behind the door. When you come out again, I'll teach you how to use the mill, which grinds up pepper very nicely, and also anything else you might happen to want."

The brother thanked the man and went inside, and everything was just as he had said. The inmates flocked around like frenzied dogs, each one screaming out his bid for the ham.

"It's my Christmas dinner!" said the brother. "My wife would be very disappointed if I sold the ham to anyone here! But if I were to sell it, in return I'd want that pepper mill behind the door."

At first they said no, not now, not ever, it was utterly impossible, not for love or money, not in a month of Sundays, not in a thousand thousand years. But the brother was firm and wouldn't budge, and they saw that they had no choice: in order to get their hands on the ham, they would have to give up their precious pepper mill.

When he went outside again, the old man instructed him on how to work the mill. "Turn it once and then watch it go," he said. He gave the top a quarter-turn and right away it started grinding pepper while the men stood back and watched. "Now, let me show you how to turn it off," the old man said. When the brother had learned how to turn the mill off, he thanked the man profusely and made his way home as quickly as he could. But even so, he didn't reach his house until well past midnight on Christmas Eve.

"Where in the world have you been?" said his wife. "I've been waiting for you the whole night long, and there's not even wood for a fire!"

"Well," he said, "I came as soon as I could. I had a very important errand to run and I had to travel quite far. But look! Look what I brought home with me!" He put the mill on the table, and turned the top a quarter-turn and straightaway it started grinding pepper. Then he said, "Grind me meat, and grind me the best there is!" It ground not only a ham but also a big roast beef and a turkey as well.

That was plenty of meat, and so he said, "Grind me bread, and grind me the best there is!" The pepper mill immediately obliged, and so it wasn't long before there was a roaring fire, a checkered tablecloth, and sweet potatoes and asparagus, and everything a person could ask for to make a happy feast on Christmas Eve.

When he finally made it stop, his wife was beside herself to know where he'd found the mill, but he didn't want to tell her. Instead, he said, "Never mind about that. The main thing is it's a wonderful mill." And so it was, because whatever he asked for, the mill would grind in abundance. He ground enough to last for twelve whole days, and on the third day he invited all his friends to a banquet fit for a king.

His brother came to the banquet as well, and when he saw how lavish it was, he was very jealous and angry because he liked being the richer of the two and was happy that his brother was poor.

"On Christmas Eve, he came begging for food, and now he has money to waste," he thought to himself. But to his brother, he said, "And where did you get the money for this?"

"I found it behind the door," his brother replied, not wanting to share his secret. But later on, he took the pepper mill and put it on the table, saying, "There! There is the reason I've become so rich!"

To show what a marvel it was, he turned the top a quarter-turn and then he said, "Grind me cake, and grind me the best there is!" and cake after cake after cake appeared, until the whole table was full. Then he picked up the mill from the table and turned it off, but no one saw how he did it.

When his brother saw what the mill could do, he resolved to make it his own. He asked if his brother was not ashamed to be so rich and not share with his family. He then insisted on having the mill and after much persuasion, he got it. But he had to pay three hundred dollars for it, and he couldn't have it until the harvest was over. "If I keep it till then," thought the one who had walked to Dead Man's Hall and back, "I can make it grind enough meat and drink for years and years to come."

During the harvest, the pepper mill was rarely idle, and when harvest was done, the brother who once was poor gave up the mill to the one who had always been rich. But he gave him only the mill, and no instructions of any kind about how to turn it off.

It was evening by the time the man got home with the mill. The next morning, he sent his wife to work in the fields, saying that he would stay at home that day and prepare both lunch and dinner. When it was almost time for lunch, he got the mill and gave the top a quarter-turn, and said, "Grind me soup and grind me fish, and grind me the best there are!"

At once, the mill began to churn out trout and turbot fillets, and halibut steaks, as well as a creamy potato soup that smelled of nutmeg. At first he put the fish on serving-plates, and the soup in a large tureen. But both were full in a minute. So he took out all the cookie sheets there were and some roasting pans as well to pile the fish on. Meanwhile, all the pots and pans were filling rapidly with soup. He had no choice but to stack the fish on the counter and pour the soup in the sink. But soon, things were out of control. The soup splashed onto the floor and so did the fish. The man took hold of the mill and twisted frantically this way and that, but nothing made even the slightest bit of difference. He simply couldn't get the mill to stop.

By now, the kitchen was so full of soup that the man was in danger of drowning. He swam across the kitchen to the door and threw it open, but the living room had soon filled up as well. So he struggled towards the entrance of the house, where at last he managed to open the front door. Then he ran outside and raced down the road with the soup and the fish hot on his heels. It covered everything; it was roaring like a tidal wave over the whole farm.

Meanwhile, his wife was toiling in the fields, and had been waiting for the call to lunch.

"My husband hasn't rung the bell, but it's lunchtime just the same. Let's go see what he's up to. Perhaps he's not as good a cook as he thought, and could use a little help."

So they started home. But suddenly, her husband appeared at the top of the hill and raced towards them, barely outrunning the flood of soup and fish. "I wish you each had a hundred stomachs," he cried. "But run for your lives, or else you will all be drowned!"

Then he ran as fast as he could to his brother's house, where he begged him on his knees to take the wicked pepper mill away.

"If it grinds out soup for another hour," he said, "the whole country will be covered!"

At first, the brother refused. Then, he said he would take it back if his brother would give him another three hundred dollars, which his brother, of course, was forced to do.

Now, the brother who once was poor had both the money and the mill, and before long his house was such a palace of riches that his brother lived the rest of his life in a state of perpetual envy.

Indeed, he ground out so much money that he covered the whole house with plates of gold, and as the house was on a hill and by the shore, it could be seen far out to sea. All the boats would put ashore to visit the man and his amazing mill. Its fame had spread far and wide, and there was no one who hadn't heard the story of the mill.

Many years came and went, and then one day, the skipper of a ship came by to see the mill. "Can it make salt?" the skipper asked.

"Can it make salt?" the man replied. "Of course it can make salt! It can make anything!"

When the skipper heard that, he said he had to have the mill no matter what the cost. For he had to make long and dangerous trips across the sea to load his ship with salt, and if he had the mill, he would never have to set sail again. At first the man refused, but the skipper begged and pleaded until at last the man sold him the mill, but it cost him every nickel he had.

The skipper hurried away with the mill as soon as he had paid for it, because he was afraid the man would change his mind. So although he won what he had come for, and knew, of course, how to turn the mill on, he left without another vital piece of information: he left before he discovered how to turn the machine off.

The skipper got on board his ship and sailed away as fast as he could. When he could no longer see the shore, he placed the mill on deck. Then the captain smiled, and said, "Grind me salt, and grind me the best there is!"

And then the mill began to grind, and it spouted salt like water. Before long, the ship was full and so the skipper tried to stop the mill. But nothing that he did had any effect at all. The mill kept right on grinding salt until the ship was so heavy it sank like a stone to the bottom of the sea. The ship was destroyed–but not the mill. It kept on grinding salt, and it's still grinding salt, and will grind salt forever at the bottom of the sea, because no one will ever turn it off. And now, you know why the sea is salty.

FELICIA AND THE POT OF CARNATIONS

Once upon a time there lived a farmer who was very poor. He was near the end of his life, and so he sent for his children and told them his will. He didn't want them arguing after his death, for he loved them both very dearly.

"Besides the cottage and the property, I have little else," he told them. "When I married your mother, her dowry was a straw mattress and a pair of three-legged stools. And once, I got three gifts from a noble lady who came to the cottage. She gave me a hen, and a silver ring, and a pot of pink carnations.

"As she was leaving, she said, `Please take great care of these gifts. Make sure the carnations have the water they need, and keep the ring safe. Treat the hen well, and she will be faithful and productive. Your daughter will grow to be as beautiful a woman as you have ever seen. Call her Felicia, and give her the ring and the carnations to provide some small pleasure for her when her days are darkened by poverty.'

"The flowers and the ring have been yours since you were four years old, Felicia," he said. "Now I give them to you formally. The rest will go to your brother Rusty."

Felicia and her brother seemed content, and when their father died they divided his possessions as he had asked them to. But then, things changed. Felicia went to sit on one of the stools, and straightaway Rusty hissed like an angry cat. "Excuse me! That's not yours! Keep the plants and the ring, but leave my stuff alone!"

Felicia started to cry, because she had thought her brother loved her. But Rusty ignored her, and made a great show of sitting down on the second stool, sticking his thumbs in his pockets and whistling loudly, while she remained standing. At dinnertime, Rusty cooked a couple of the eggs his hen had laid that day. When he had eaten, he put the eggshells on a small plate and passed them to Felicia. "Father would have wanted me to share," he said.

Felicia cried a little harder, and left the room. She found her own room filled with the scent of carnations, and she approached her pot of flowers sadly. "If flowers could talk," she said, "I'm sure their voices would be beautiful, and their words would be kind." She picked up a jug, and then looked at the flowers again. "I am only a shepherd girl," she said, "but my heart is honest, and I will never ever neglect you." The cottage had no running water, so Felicia had to fill her jug at the spring, which was several fields away. There was a large, milky moon in the sky that night, and as she ran to fetch the water, Felicia looked more like a fairy than a shepherdess.

When she reached the spring she was out of breath, so she sat down beside it to rest. When she looked up, she saw a noble lady approaching the spring. The lady was surrounded by attendants who soon set up a table and filled it with cold dishes of all kinds. Then the lady raised her hand and shook it gently. Instantly, the water bubbling from the spring was filled with music, as though an orchestra were playing underground. At this sign, the attendants filled their plates and everyone sat to eat.

Felicia crouched unmoving by the spring. She was intrigued by the scene unfolding before her, but she also felt a little shy. Only a powerful fairy could charm the water like that by simply waving her hand. (As Felicia suspected, the noble lady really was a fairy.) Then the lady caught sight of Felicia, and said, "There's a girl over there in the shadows. Go and see what she wants."

A few moments later, Felicia was timidly shaking the fairy's hand. "You shouldn't be alone at this time of night," said the fairy. "Are you not afraid of robbers?"

"I have only this dress, and this little jug, and a pot of carnations at home. I have nothing worth stealing," said Felicia.

"Well," said the fairy, "robbers must be very stupid, if all they want is money! And you have something far more valuable than that! Think, Felicia! You have a heart! What if someone stole your heart away? Would you give it willingly?"

"Without my heart, I couldn't care for my carnations," Felicia said. "So I wouldn't want to give it up."

"One day," replied the fairy, "you'll find the only way to keep your heart is by giving it up. But never mind that now. Have you eaten?"

Felicia shook her head. "There wasn't enough to share today," she said.

The fairy ordered that a place be prepared for Felicia, and that she be served the best of the dishes that lay on the table.

"So why are you here so late at night?" the fairy asked, after Felicia had eaten her fill.

"I came to get some water for my flowers," said Felicia, and she bent down to pick up the jug, which was at her feet. But when she brought it into the light, she couldn't believe her eyes! The jug she had brought from home was made of badly-dented tin, but the jug in her hand was made of glistening gold and was studded with diamonds. As well, her jug had been empty while this one was full, and full of water so fragrant she felt the fairy herself had made it.

"This isn't mine!" cried Felicia, and she set the jug on the table.

"Of course it is!" said the fairy. "I've just made it nicer than it was. Now go and water your precious carnations. And let the jug remind you that the Queen of the Woods would like to be your friend."

Felicia was so thrilled that she leapt to her feet and said, "Oh, thank you! But what can I give you? I know! I'll give you my pot of pretty carnations! It's not much, but it's half of everything I own! And no one could care for them better than you!"

"Go, then," said the fairy, and Felicia raced home to fetch her pot of flowers.

But while she'd been at the spring, Rusty had snuck in her room and stolen Felicia's carnations. In place of the pot, he'd put a great big cabbage. When Felicia saw the cabbage and realized what Rusty had done, she was very upset, but went back to the spring anyway. She knelt before the Queen and said, "Rusty has stolen my flowers, so I have nothing to give but my ring. Please take it."

The fairy smiled as she slipped the ring on her finger. "Now we are friends, Felicia, now and forever." Then she stepped into her chariot and was gone so quickly that Felicia shook her head in wonder.

Back at the cottage, Felicia felt depressed. She missed her carnations terribly and resented her brother very much. She also resented the cabbage. It was big and ugly and green, and the more she stared at it, the more she felt it was taunting her, mocking her, laughing at her. In a sudden fit of anger, she seized the offending cabbage and hurled it out the window.

"Help! Help! Ah!" Somebody was crying for help outside her window! Felicia peered outside but saw no one, and the cries had stopped as quickly as they had begun. "This has been a strange day," she said to herself as she climbed into bed. "I hope tomorrow is normal."

The next morning Felicia woke early and began to search for her carnations. The first thing she found was the cabbage, and the sight of it made her angry again. "What were you doing in my room?" she asked, and she was just about to give the cabbage a good hard kick, when somebody spoke to her very sharply.

"That is quite enough, young woman! Do you think it was my idea to break into your room? I'm an honest man, trying to lead an honest life. It was that brutal brother of yours who pulled me out of bed and snuck me into your room!"

Felicia looked at the cabbage in astonishment. "Excuse me," she said, "but you're not a man. You're a cabbage."

"I was a man," the cabbage said grumpily. "But you're right: now I'm a cabbage. But a cabbage isn't a football, and I hope that you and your feet will bear that in mind."

"I've never heard of a talking cabbage before," said Felicia.

"Neither have I," said the cabbage. "But that isn't the point. Felicia, listen to me. We can help each other."

Felicia didn't say anything, and so the cabbage continued.

"Here's the deal," said the cabbage. "Tuck me back in the ground, and I'll tell you where Rusty has hidden the flowers."

Without saying a word, Felicia gently picked up the cabbage, carried it back to the cabbage patch and replanted it.

"Thank you," said the cabbage. "Now let me tell you where the flowers are, so you can go and rescue them. Rusty put them under his mattress! Goodbye, Felicia!"

As the cabbage finished, Rusty's hen ran by, and Felicia grabbed it with both hands.

"Not so fast, you nasty little creature! How dare you serve only my brother!"

"Oh, please don't hurt me," said the hen. "Let me go and I'll tell you anything you want to know!"

Felicia put the hen down, and the bird smoothed her feathers and then began her story.

"Now, where was I? Oh, yes, I remember. Rusty was about two years old... But first things first, as I always say, and the rest will follow very nicely. Listen to me, Felicia, and hear what I say: Rusty is not your brother!"

Felicia looked at the hen with suspicion. "Of course he's my brother," she said.

"Of course he's not your brother," replied the hen. "I'm sure that's what you meant to say, because you're a good little girl and you always tell the truth. Anyway, I'd know if he had any sisters. I'm his mother, for goodness' sake!"

Felicia stared at her with cranky and incredulous eyes. "But you're a hen!" she said.

"I know what it looks like," said the hen, "but it wasn't always like this. I wasn't always like this. But never mind. Just hear me out and don't interrupt."

Felicia nodded and the hen began again.

"Once upon a time, there was a queen who had six daughters. In those days women could not inherit property, and so the king wanted a son very badly. The next time the queen was pregnant, he imprisoned her in a castle and ordered her to produce a boy. `Another girl and I'll cut off your head!' he said to her.

"The queen's half-sister was a powerful fairy who was also pregnant at the time. She knew that the queen was going to have another girl, while her own child would be a boy. So the sisters came up with a plan to exchange their babies when they were born.

"When the queen gave birth to her daughter, she waited anxiously for her sister to bring the baby boy to the castle. But for some reason, the fairy never came. Finally, the queen could wait no longer. Fortunately, one of her guards was devoted to her and gave her a rope ladder. She took her tiny daughter and climbed down the ladder to freedom.

"After travelling for many days, she arrived at this very cottage, and I took her in. She was exhausted and very sick, and she died soon after putting the girl in my charge. Can you guess who that little girl was, Felicia?"

"Was it me?" asked Felicia.

"Yes, Felicia, it was you. My husband had been away from home for some time, so I just pretended you were his second child when he returned. Then, one day a noble lady came to the cottage. I was never good with secrets, and I told her the whole story, thinking it might interest her. Well, as soon as I finished, she tapped me on the head with her wand, and I've been a hen ever since. After that, I could make a lot of noise, but I couldn't say a word.

"My poor husband looked everywhere for me, but never found me of course. He thought I had drowned, or been eaten by beasts in the forest. But he raised you as his daughter and he raised you well.

"That noble lady came back one more time. She said my husband should call you Felicia, and left a silver ring and a pot of pink carnations to be given to you. She also gave my husband a hen, which pleased him very much.

"While the noble lady was in the cottage, twenty-five of the king's men came looking for you, probably intending to kill you on the king's orders. But the lady said a few quick words and they were all turned into cabbages. It was one of them that you tossed out your window yesterday.

"I was quite surprised to hear him speak. None of them has spoken since the day they were turned into cabbages. And I've done nothing but cluck for almost twenty years. I wonder what is going on."

Felicia was as puzzled as the hen, but she said, "Perhaps the fairy's spell is almost over. Perhaps you'll have a human shape again quite soon. But we must be patient. And now I must go and search for my carnations."

Rusty was out, so nothing could stop Felicia from searching his bedroom. But as soon as she approached his mattress, a gang of rats attacked her savagely, tearing at her ankles with their teeth. She winced and stumbled backwards and the rats left her alone. But how was she to get her pot of flowers?

She wondered if the fairy-water might have some magic power, and she raced to her room to fetch her jug. When she arrived back at Rusty's room, she dipped her fingers in the water and then flicked a few drops at the rats. Instantly, the whole gang turned and fled. Then Felicia took her flowers and gave them a good long drink of fairy-water. Then she raised the flowers to her face to feast on their wonderful freshness, and suddenly she heard a soft and gentle voice that seemed to come from the flowers themselves.

"My lovely Felicia," said the voice, "at last this day has come. Let me say how deep and full my feelings are for you. The power of your beauty is so great it can wake up the flowers and drive the clouds away."

Suddenly, Felicia sensed someone behind her. She turned, and there was Rusty, standing in the doorway. Without saying a word, he dragged her out of his room, and then out of his house. He threw her into the yard and then went back inside and slammed the door shut. Felicia righted the flower pot and picked herself up. Then she saw her friend the fairy standing nearby and staring at the door.

"You have a bad brother," she said. "What punishment do you think he deserves?"

"He doesn't need to be punished," said Felicia. "His life is poor and drab. That's why he stole my carnations."

The fairy looked at Felicia. "What if he weren't your brother? What if you were a princess, and not related to him at all? Would you let me punish him then?"

"If I were a princess," Felicia answered, "I would be so much luckier than my brother, it would be pure wickedness to want him punished."

At that moment, and seemingly out of nowhere, there appeared a radiant young man with laughing eyes. He was wearing a crown of carnations and his hair fell upon his shoulders. As soon as he saw the fairy, he knelt and kissed her hand. Then he stood up and she threw her arms around him and hugged him fiercely. She beamed at Felicia.

"It's my son!" she said. Then she stood back to get a good look at him. "You turned out rather well, I think. It's such a relief to have you back in human form. You must thank Felicia, for it was her love and care that finally ended the spell." The fairy then turned towards Felicia.

"But first, Felicia, there are several things you don't know," she said. "Everything the hen said was true, but there was more to the story than she knew. The unfortunate queen she spoke of was my sister; she was to have raised my son, while I raised you.

"When my son was born, I commanded the wind to carry him safely to my sister in the castle. But the wind grew tired, and stopped to rest in a field, and put my baby down in a garden full of flowers. An enemy of mine saw her chance, and changed my son into a pink carnation. That is why he never arrived at the castle, and why my sister had to flee down the rope ladder with you.

"Because he was abandoned by the wind, only devotion and care could break the spell that bound my son. I placed my hope in you, Felicia, and I was right. Even as a young girl you took great pains with him, and if he is strong and handsome, he has you to thank for it. Just now, when you drove the rats away, you broke the back of the spell, and when you gave him the fairy-water in your jug, I knew my son would soon return.

"Yesterday you made me a present of this ring. It was everything you had, but you gave it willingly. Now you've given me back my son. But what can I give you in return? I am the Queen of the Woods, and yet I have no gift to match yours. Unless.... Felicia, my happiness would be complete if you would take back your ring and marry my son. Do you love him?"

Felicia blushed, and said, "Do I? I hardly know. I've never felt this way before. I feel that unless Prince Carnation loves me, I'll never find real happiness. I think your son has stolen my heart. But I don't know how he feels, and however powerful you are, his heart is not yours to give."

The prince knelt at Felicia's feet. "Ah, Felicia," said the prince. "You have had my heart for many years. If you will give me yours, I will keep it safe, but only if you take mine in return."

The Queen of the Woods then touched Felicia with her wand, and her simple dress was instantly transformed into a rich and elegant gown.

Suddenly, Rusty opened the cottage door. He took one glance at Felicia and then covered his face in fear and scuttled away. But Felicia called him back and was kind to him.

"I think you are much too good to him," said the fairy. "If he were my brother, I would punish him most severely."

"I am much too happy to want anyone punished," said Felicia.

"Maybe you're right," said the fairy. "Maybe he should have some carnations of his own."

The fairy pointed her wand at the cottage and began to wave it slowly back and forth. A thousand carnations began to grow, and their stalks intertwined, and soon there was a wall of carnations one storey high, and still the carnations grew, and the bungalow became a house, and the house became a mansion, and the mansion became a castle made of sturdy, beautiful, sweet-smelling carnations.

Rusty was beside himself with joy, and thanked Felicia so often that the fairy wondered about turning him into a carnation so they could all have their peace. But she left him as he was, and she restored the hen and the cabbages to their human forms.

Soon after, Felicia married the prince. The Queen of the Woods was so happy that she spared no effort to make their wedding feast the greatest and grandest possible, and they all lived happily ever after.

HANSEL AND GRETTEL

Once upon a time, a woodcutter lived with his wife at the edge of a forest. The man had two children: his son was called Hansel, and his daughter's name was Grettel. The woodcutter never had much money, but one year there was a terrible famine, and he couldn't afford even a loaf of bread.

One night he was so worried that he couldn't fall asleep, and he said to his wife, "I just don't know what to do anymore! We haven't any food to feed ourselves, let alone the children!"

"I have an idea," said his wife. "Tomorrow, when we go to work, we'll take the children along. We'll go to the very thickest part of the forest. Then we'll build them a nice big fire, and give them each a piece of bread, and tell them to wait until we return. Then, we'll simply leave them in the forest! They'll never be able to find their own way home, and we'll never have to feed them ever again!"

"No!" cried the husband. "I can't do that! I would never leave my children alone in the forest to be killed and eaten by animals!"

"Then you're a fool!" shouted the wife. "There's not enough food for the four of us! For goodness' sake, husband, face the facts! We can't go on like this! If we don't get rid of the children, the next wood you chop will be the wood for our coffins!" And she lashed out again and again until he gave in. "I still feel sorry for the children," he said sullenly.

Hunger had kept the children awake that night as well, and they overheard what their stepmother said to their father. Grettel began to sob, and just before she burst into tears, she said, "Well, that's the end of us, isn't it, Hansel." But Hansel said, "Don't worry, Grettel. I'll find a way out of this."

Hansel waited in bed until the adults were asleep. Then he put on his jacket, crept to the kitchen door, and slipped outside. He tiptoed round to the front of the house, where his parents kept a rock garden. The moon was bright, and the little white pebbles were gleaming like silver coins. Hansel stuffed his pockets with pebbles, and then went in to reassure his sister. "We'll be all right tomorrow, Grettel," he said. "Just wait and see."

The day was still dark when the stepmother roused the children from their beds. "Up you get, sleepyheads! We're off to the forest to fetch some wood." Then she gave them each a piece of bread, saying, "I'd save this for lunch if I were you. It's all you're getting today!" Grettel tucked both pieces of bread under her cloak. Hansel couldn't carry his because his pockets were full of pebbles. Then the father joined them and they set out for the forest.

They hadn't gone far when Hansel turned around and stared in the direction of the house. A minute later he did the same thing. When he did it a third time, his father said, "Hansel, what on earth are you looking at back there? You're slowing us all down."

"It's my little white kitten," said Hansel. "It's sitting on the roof waving goodbye."

His stepmother snorted. "You're a fool!" she said. "That's not a cat! That's just the sun shining on the chimney."

But Hansel had only been pretending he could see his kitten. He had been turning his back so that neither his father nor his stepmother would see him take a pebble from his pocket and drop it on the path.

After a while, the path ended and only the woodcutter knew the way. A while after that, the trees were so close together, and the undergrowth so wild, that walking became very hard for the children. As soon as they reached the next clearing, the father said, "Now, children, run and fetch some kindling, so I can light a fire to keep you warm."

Hansel and Grettel began to collect brushwood and pile it up. When they finished, the pile was taller than they were. Their father lit the fire, and their stepmother said, "Lie down by the fire now, children. Have a rest and keep warm. Your father and I have work to do. When we're finished, we'll come back to get you." And then she and her husband walked off into the woods.

But they didn't cut any wood. The father tied a big, broken branch to the trunk of a tree. It was windy that day, so the wind hurled the branch this way and that, and when it slapped against the tree, it made a cracking sound like the sound of an axe. Hoping this would fool the children, the father and his wife hurried home.

Meanwhile, Hansel and Grettel sat by the fire. They sat there all morning, just waiting and waiting some more. At noon, they ate their bread. Then they waited all afternoon, listening to the sound of the branch hitting the tree, thinking their father was nearby. At long last, they were so tired they fell asleep.

When they woke up, it was pitch black in the forest. Grettel cried a little, and said, "Hansel, how are we going to get home?"

Hansel took hold of her hand and squeezed it. "Just wait until the moon comes up," he said. "Then we'll have no problem getting home."

It happened that the moon was full that night, and when it rose, Hansel took his sister's hand and said, "Look, Grettel!" The white pebbles that Hansel had dropped were gleaming in the moonlight like silver coins and formed a chain that would lead them safely back through the forest and all the way home. They followed the trail of pebbles all night long, and at daybreak finally reached their father's house. When they knocked on the door, their stepmother answered.

"Well, look who's here!" cried the stepmother. "The little brats are back from playing in the forest. Do you have any idea how worried we were?"

The father said nothing, though his heart was more than happy to see them back. He felt terrible that he had abandoned his children in the forest.

Not long afterwards another famine came, and the stepmother again wanted to rid herself of the children. "There's no food in the house except for half a loaf of bread, and when that's gone, we're done for. The children have to go! This time, we'll do the job properly: we'll leave them so deep in the woods that they'll never be able to find their way back home."

The father's heart wept to hear these words, and he said, "Will the food not taste better if we share it with the children than if we keep it all for ourselves?" But his wife was full of scorn and wouldn't hear his arguments. "This is what you said the last time," she said. "And the last time, you left them to die in the forest. For goodness' sake, husband, face the facts!"

Hansel and Grettel were in bed, but they were wide awake, and they heard every word of this conversation. As before, Hansel waited until the adults were asleep. Then he put on his jacket, and crept to the kitchen door–but his stepmother had locked it, and he couldn't slip out to gather up the pebbles! But he comforted his little sister, and said, "Don't worry, Grettel. We'll find a way out of this."

It was still completely dark when the stepmother pulled the children from their beds. They were given some bread, but the pieces were much smaller than they had been the last time. On their way into the forest, Hansel crumbled his bread in his pocket, and every minute or so he turned around and stared back in the direction of the house, so he could drop a crumb on the ground without being seen. His father said, "Hansel, what on earth are you looking at back there? You're slowing us all down."

"It's my little pigeon," said Hansel. "It's sitting on the roof waving goodbye."

His stepmother snorted. "You're a fool!" she said. "That's not a pigeon! That's just the sun shining on the chimney."

But Hansel managed to leave a trail of breadcrumbs that he and Grettel could follow home that night.

They went deeper into the forest than the children had ever been before. Finally they stopped, and the stepmother lit a fire, and said, "Now, children, just sit down here by the fire. If you're tired, have a little sleep. Your father and I have work to do. When we're finished, we'll come back to get you."

At noon, Grettel shared her bread with Hansel, who had used his piece to make the trail of breadcrumbs. Then the children fell asleep, and they didn't wake up until night had come to the forest and all was black.

"Hansel, how are we going to get home?" asked Grettel.

Hansel squeezed her hand. "Just wait until the moon comes up. Then we'll be able to see the trail of breadcrumbs I dropped along the way, and we won't have any problem getting home."

When the moon rose, Hansel and Grettel looked hard for the crumbs, but they couldn't see even a single one. The birds that lived in the forest had eaten them all!

"Don't worry, Grettel. We'll find a way out of here," said Hansel. But they walked the whole night long in the dark, and they found no way out. They walked the next day from morning till night, but they found no escape from the forest. As well, they were growing hungrier by the hour, for they had eaten nothing but the berries they'd found on the path. At last their legs would carry them no further, and they lay down under a tree and fell asleep.

The next morning was the third since they had left their father's house. They set out again through the forest, but no matter where they turned, the trees grew close together and the undergrowth made walking very hard. They felt that if they were not rescued soon, they would die of hunger.

At noon, the children sat down to rest. Suddenly, they heard a bird singing so musically that they stopped to listen. The singer was a beautiful snow-white bird that was perched on a nearby branch. When its song was finished, it flew off in front of them, and the children decided to follow it. Soon the bird guided them to a clearing, and there they saw the strangest little cottage they had ever seen in their lives.

The walls of the cottage were made of bread. Instead of its roof being covered with shingles, this roof was covered with pastries and cupcakes and brownies and squares. The cottage's windows were made out of icing sugar. "Do you think it's real?" asked Hansel. "Well, there's only one way to find out. I'm going to have some of the roof. You take some of the window, Grettel. It looks as sweet as the roof and will be easier for you to reach." So saying, he stretched up and broke off a piece of the roof, while Grettel eagerly smashed one of the windows. No sooner had they done this than they heard a shrill voice calling from inside the house.

Nibble, nibble, little mouse

Who's that nibbling on my house?

The children answered:

The broken roof and the shattered pane

Are both the work of the wind and the rain!

The children were so hungry that they thought their little song would fool whoever was in the cottage. Hansel ripped another cake from the roof, while Grettel grabbed a piece of window the size of a dinner plate, and then sat down in order to do it justice. Suddenly the cottage door flew open, and a very old woman hobbled out. Hansel and Grettel were so frightened that the food dropped from their hands. But the old woman shook her head and cackled, "Well, well, well, it's two little children. What was it that brought you here, I wonder. Just come inside and I'll fix you some dinner. You've got nothing to fear, nothing to fear."

The old woman took both children firmly by the hand and led them into the cottage, where she fed them sugared pancakes with apples and nuts, and gave them each a glass of milk to drink. After they had eaten their fill, she made their beds with fresh white sheets, and when she tucked them in, they felt as though they'd gone straight to heaven.

But the old woman was not as she seemed. In fact, she was old witch who enjoyed eating people of all kinds, but who found young children especially tender and juicy. Whenever she had someone in her clutches, she declared the day a holiday, and devoted herself to killing, cooking, and eating her hapless victim. Now witches have red eyes and can't see very far, but their sense of smell is sharper than a dog's. The witch had known for two whole days that Hansel and Grettel were in the forest, and when they strayed too close to her, she laughed and wickedly cried out, "They're mine! They're mine! They'll never get away now!" Then she set a trap for them by building the little bread cottage.

The following day, the witch was busy long before the children were awake. She crept up to their beds, and gazed lovingly at their parted mouths and silky cheeks. Then she smacked her lips, and in a hushed and humble voice, as though there were no nicer words in the entire language, she said, "Fresh boy!"

"What a treat!" she added, as she seized Hansel in her bony hands and carried him out to a small stable, where she threw him to the ground and locked him up. Scream as he might, there was nothing he could do. Then the witch went back to the cottage and shook Grettel by the shoulders until she woke up. "Get up, you little slouch!" cried the witch. "Make some breakfast for your brother. We've got to fatten him up. I do love children, but I love them so much more when they're fat!" Grettel was terrified and began to cry, but it was no use. She had no choice but to obey the witch.

Hansel got all the best food because he was the one being fattened. Grettel got only crab shells. Every morning the witch hobbled out to the stable, and said in a wheedling voice, "Hansel? Stick out your finger, boy. Let's see how fat you're getting!" But instead of stretching out his finger, Hansel always stretched out a little bone he had found in the stable. This puzzled the witch, who wondered why he was fattening so slowly.

After four weeks had passed and Hansel's bone had grown no fatter, the witch finally lost her patience and decided she had waited long enough. "Grettel?" she called. "Grettel? Fetch some water in this pot and put it by the fire. If that brother of yours has fattened nicely, then so much the better for the stew. If he's still thin, it doesn't matter: I'll just add butter to the sauce. Either way, tomorrow he goes in the pot!"

Grettel was beside herself, and tears streamed down her cheeks. "Heaven help us now!" she cried. "If we'd been killed by the beasts in the forest, at least we would have died together." The witch glared at her. "Well, that's not going to happen now, is it! So just calm down and clamp your lips, little girl!"

The next day, the witch told Grettel to hang the pot over the hearth and light the fire. Then she said, "While we're waiting for the water to boil, we'll bake some bread. I lit the oven an hour ago, and the dough has risen nicely." She nudged Grettel towards the oven with her elbows. "Just poke your head in," she said. "See if the temperature's right."

But Grettel said, "I've never made bread before in my life, and I don't know what temperature is right! You wouldn't want the bread to spoil, would you? I've got an idea! Why don't you teach me? Poke your head in the oven, and when the temperature's right, call me and let me feel it with my own head."

"What do they teach girls these days?" said the witch, as she got down on her hands and knees and crawled towards the oven. "Now, let's see," she said, as she poked her head inside. "Aha!" cried Grettel, as she thrust the witch through the door, slammed the door shut, and locked it tight. Then she ran outside, ignoring the piercing shrieks of the burning witch.

Grettel ran straight to Hansel's stable and quickly unlocked the door. "Hansel," she cried. "Hansel, we're free! The old witch is dead!" Then she threw open the door, and Hansel sprang out the way a bird springs out of its cage when the door is opened. Then he dashed into the clearing and ran wildly around in circles, hooting at the sky in joy. Then he ran back to his sister and grabbed her hands and swung her around until they both collapsed on the ground in a heap, giddy with relief.

The children now had nothing to fear, and so they went back into the witch's cottage. In every corner of the room, they found boxes of pearls and precious stones. "These are certainly better than pebbles!" said Hansel, as he crammed his pockets full. "There is plenty of room in my cloak, as well," said Grettel. When she had finished packing her pearls away, Hansel said, "Let's go. I know she's dead, but I'll be much happier when we're out of the witch's forest."

After a few hours, Hansel and Grettel came to a big lake. "We can't get across," said Hansel. "I can't see a bridge in either direction." "There aren't any boats, either," said Grettel. "But look! There's a lovely white duck. I'm sure it will help us across if I ask it nicely." So Grettel sang this rhyme:

Little duck, little duck, could you please lend a hand,

And take us across the lake to dry land?

There isn't a bridge, or a boat anywhere,

We can't walk on water or fly through the air,

And we can't swim across, as the lake is too wide,

Little duck, little duck, please give us a ride!

The duck swam up and Hansel climbed on its back and motioned Grettel to join him. "No," said Grettel. "Together we'll be too heavy. We'll go one at a time." The kind little bird swam Hansel across the lake, and then came back for Grettel. When they were both safely across, they began their journey again, and the forest grew ever more familiar. At last they saw their father's house in the distance. Then excitement overtook them, and they started to run, and they ran all the way home and burst through the door and threw their arms around their father's neck. Since leaving his children in the forest, the woodcutter had spent his hours in grief and tears. Even though his wife had recently died, the return of the children restored the woodcutter's spirits. Then, when both Hansel and Grettel emptied their pockets of pearls and precious stones, he knew that all their troubles were over at last. And the three of them lived happily ever after.
We hope that you have enjoyed reading these six Fairy Tales, edited by Laird Stevens. There are an additional 12 Fairy Tales available. You can either purchase the entire collection of 18, which includes the first 6 in this version. Or you can purchase the additional 12 stories in 2 sets of ebooks. These are Parts 2 and 3 containing 6 fairy tales each. Part 2 contains Little Red Riding Hood, The Master Maid, The Goose-Girl, Prince Hyacinth and the Adorable Princess, The Girl with Saffron Hair, and The Sleeping Beauty in the Wood. Part 3 contains Rumpelstiltzkin, The Tale of a Youth who set out to Learn what Fear was, Cinderella or the Little Glass Slipper, The Master Cat, or Puss in Boots, The White Cat, and Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves.

For other works by Laird Stevens, visit http://www.lairdstevens.com
