Andrew Lang_Fairy Book 03 (37 page)

'Because they knew they were being put to the test,' answered the
Lion; 'and so they made an effort; but just have a dozen spinning-
wheels placed in the ante-room. When they pass through you'll see
how pleased they will be, quite unlike any man.'

The King was pleased with the advice, and desired twelve spinning-
wheels to be placed in his ante-chamber.

But the good-natured servant went to the huntsmen and told them
all about this fresh plot. Then, as soon as the King's daughter
was alone with her maidens, she exclaimed: 'Now, pray make a great
effort and don't even
look
at those spinning-wheels.'

When the King sent for his twelve huntsmen next morning they
walked through the ante-room without even casting a glance at the
spinning-wheels.

Then the King said once more to the Lion: 'You have deceived me
again; they
are
men, for they never once looked at the
spinning-wheels.'

The Lion replied: 'They knew they were being tried, and they did
violence to their feelings.' But the King declined to believe in
the Lion any longer.

So the twelve huntsmen continued to follow the King, and he grew
daily fonder of them. One day whilst they were all out hunting it
so happened that news was brought that the King's intended bride
was on her way and might soon be expected. When the true bride
heard of this she felt as though a knife had pierced her heart,
and she fell fainting to the ground. The King, fearing something
had happened to his dear huntsman, ran up to help, and began
drawing off his gloves. Then he saw the ring which he had given to
his first love, and as he gazed into her face he knew her again,
and his heart was so touched that he kissed her, and as she opened
her eyes, he cried: 'I am thine and thou art mine, and no power on
earth can alter that.'

To the other Princess he despatched a messenger to beg her to
return to her own kingdom with all speed. 'For,' said he, 'I have
got a wife, and he who finds an old key again does not require a
new one.'

Thereupon the wedding was celebrated with great pomp, and the Lion
was restored to the royal favour, for after all he had told the
truth.

Grimm.

Once upon a time there lived a girl who lost her father and mother
when she was quite a tiny child. Her godmother lived all alone in
a little cottage at the far end of the village, and there she
earned her living by spinning, weaving, and sewing. The old woman
took the little orphan home with her and brought her up in good,
pious, industrious habits.

When the girl was fifteen years old, her godmother fell ill, and,
calling the child to her bedside, she said: 'My dear daughter, I
feel that my end is near. I leave you my cottage, which will, at
least, shelter you, and also my spindle, my weaver's shuttle, and
my needle, with which to earn your bread.'

Then she laid her hands on the girl's head, blessed her, and
added: 'Mind and be good, and then all will go well with you.'
With that she closed her eyes for the last time, and when she was
carried to her grave the girl walked behind her coffin weeping
bitterly, and paid her all the last honours.

After this the girl lived all alone in the little cottage. She
worked hard, spinning, weaving, and sewing, and her old
godmother's blessing seemed to prosper all she did. The flax
seemed to spread and increase; and when she wove a carpet or a
piece of linen, or made a shirt, she was sure to find a customer
who paid her well, so that not only did she feel no want herself,
but she was able to help those who did.

Now, it happened that about this time the King's son was making a
tour through the entire country to look out for a bride. He could
not marry a poor woman, and he did not wish for a rich one.

'She shall be my wife,' said he, 'who is at once the poorest and
the richest.'

When he reached the village where the girl lived, he inquired who
was the richest and who the poorest woman in it. The richest was
named first; the poorest, he was told, was a young girl who lived
alone in a little cottage at the far end of the village.

The rich girl sat at her door dressed out in all her best clothes,
and when the King's son came near she got up, went to meet him,
and made him a low curtsey. He looked well at her, said nothing,
but rode on further.

When he reached the poor girl's house he did not find her at her
door, for she was at work in her room. The Prince reined in his
horse, looked in at the window through which the sun was shining
brightly, and saw the girl sitting at her wheel busily spinning
away.

She looked up, and when she saw the King's son gazing in at her,
she blushed red all over, cast down her eyes and span on. Whether
the thread was quite as even as usual I really cannot say, but she
went on spinning till the King's son had ridden off. Then she
stepped to the window and opened the lattice, saying, 'The room is
so hot,' but she looked after him as long as she could see the
white plumes in his hat.

Then she sat down to her work once more and span on, and as she
did so an old saying which, she had often heard her godmother
repeat whilst at work, came into her head, and she began to sing:

'Spindle, spindle, go and see, If my love will come to me.'

Lo, and behold! the spindle leapt from her hand and rushed out of
the room, and when she had sufficiently recovered from her
surprise to look after it she saw it dancing merrily through the
fields, dragging a long golden thread after it, and soon it was
lost to sight.

The girl, having lost her spindle, took up the shuttle and,
seating herself at her loom, began to weave. Meantime the spindle
danced on and on, and just as it had come to the end of the golden
thread, it reached the King's son.

'What do I see?' he cried; 'this spindle seems to wish to point
out the way to me.' So he turned his horses head and rode back
beside the golden thread.

Meantime the girl sat weaving, and sang:

'Shuttle, weave both web and woof, Bring my love beneath my roof.'

The shuttle instantly escaped from her hand, and with one bound
was out at the door. On the threshold it began weaving the
loveliest carpet that was ever seen. Roses and lilies bloomed on
both sides, and in the centre a thicket seemed to grow with
rabbits and hares running through it, stags and fawns peeping
through the branches, whilst on the topmost boughs sat birds of
brilliant plumage and so life-like one almost expected to hear
them sing. The shuttle flew from side to side and the carpet
seemed almost to grow of itself.

As the shuttle had run away the girl sat down to sew. She took her
needle and sang:

'Needle, needle, stitch away, Make my chamber bright and gay,'

and the needle promptly slipped from her fingers and flew about
the room like lightning. You would have thought invisible spirits
were at work, for in next to no time the table and benches were
covered with green cloth, the chairs with velvet, and elegant silk
curtains hung before the windows. The needle had barely put in its
last stitch when the girl, glancing at the window, spied the white
plumed hat of the King's son who was being led back by the spindle
with the golden thread.

He dismounted and walked over the carpet into the house, and when
he entered the room there stood the girl blushing like any rose.
'You are the poorest and yet the richest,' said he: 'come with me,
you shall be my bride.'

She said nothing, but she held out her hand. Then he kissed her,
and led her out, lifted her on his horse and took her to his royal
palace, where the wedding was celebrated with great rejoicings.

The spindle, the shuttle, and the needle were carefully placed in
the treasury, and were always held in the very highest honour.

Grimm.

Now let no one say that a poor tailor can't get on in the world,
and, indeed, even attain to very high honour. Nothing is required
but to set the right way to work, but of course the really
important thing is to succeed.

A very bright active young tailor once set off on his travels,
which led him into a wood, and as he did not know the way he soon
lost himself. Night came on, and there seemed to be nothing for it
but to seek out the best resting-place he could find. He could
have made himself quite comfortable with a bed of soft moss, but
the fear of wild beasts disturbed his mind, and at last he
determined to spend the night in a tree.

He sought out a tall oak tree, climbed up to the top, and felt
devoutly thankful that his big smoothing-iron was in his pocket,
for the wind in the tree-tops was so high that he might easily
have been blown away altogether.

After passing some hours of the night, not without considerable
fear and trembling, he noticed a light shining at a little
distance, and hoping it might proceed from some house where he
could find a better shelter than in the top of the tree, he
cautiously descended and went towards the light. It led him to a
little hut all woven together of reeds and rushes. He knocked
bravely at the door, which opened, and by the light which shone
from within he saw an old gray-haired man dressed in a coat made
of bright-coloured patches. 'Who are you, and what do you want?'
asked the old man roughly.

'I am a poor tailor,' replied the youth. 'I have been benighted in
the forest, and I entreat you to let me take shelter in your hut
till morning.'

'Go your way,' said the old man in a sulky tone, 'I'll have
nothing to do with tramps. You must just go elsewhere.'

With these words he tried to slip back into his house, but the
tailor laid hold of his coat-tails, and begged so hard to be
allowed to stay that the old fellow, who was by no means as cross
as he appeared, was at length touched by his entreaties, let him
come in, and after giving him some food, showed him quite a nice
bed in one corner of the room. The weary tailor required no
rocking to rest, but slept sound till early morning, when he was
roused from his slumbers by a tremendous noise. Loud screams and
shouts pierced the thin walls of the little hut. The tailor, with
new-born courage, sprang up, threw on his clothes with all speed
and hurried out. There he saw a huge black bull engaged in a
terrible fight with a fine large stag. They rushed at each other
with such fury that the ground seemed to tremble under them and
the whole air to be filled with their cries. For some time it
appeared quite uncertain which would be the victor, but at length
the stag drove his antlers with such force into his opponent's
body that the bull fell to the ground with a terrific roar, and a
few more strokes finished him.

The tailor, who had been watching the fight with amazement, was
still standing motionless when the stag bounded up to him, and
before he had time to escape forked him up with its great antlers,
and set off at full gallop over hedges and ditches, hill and dale,
through wood and water. The tailor could do nothing but hold on
tight with both hands to the stag's horns and resign himself to
his fate. He felt as if he were flying along. At length the stag
paused before a steep rock and gently let the tailor down to the
ground.

Feeling more dead than alive, he paused for a while to collect his
scattered senses, but when he seemed somewhat restored the stag
struck such a blow on a door in the rock that it flew open. Flames
of fire rushed forth, and such clouds of steam followed that the
stag had to avert its eyes. The tailor could not think what to do
or which way to turn to get away from this awful wilderness, and
to find his way back amongst human beings once more.

As he stood hesitating, a voice from the rock cried to him: 'Step
in without fear, no harm shall befall you.'

He still lingered, but some mysterious power seemed to impel him,
and passing through the door he found himself in a spacious hall,
whose ceiling, walls, and floor were covered with polished tiles
carved all over with unknown figures. He gazed about, full of
wonder, and was just preparing to walk out again when the same
voice bade him: 'Tread on the stone in the middle of the hall, and
good luck will attend you.'

By this time he had grown so courageous that he did not hesitate
to obey the order, and hardly had he stepped on the stone than it
began to sink gently with him into the depths below. On reaching
firm ground he found himself in a hall of much the same size as
the upper one, but with much more in it to wonder at and admire.
Round the walls were several niches, in each of which stood glass
vessels filled with some bright-coloured spirit or bluish smoke.
On the floor stood two large crystal boxes opposite each other,
and these attracted his curiosity at once.

Stepping up to one of them, he saw within it what looked like a
model in miniature of a fine castle surrounded by farms, barns,
stables, and a number of other buildings. Everything was quite
tiny, but so beautifully and carefully finished that it might have
been the work of an accomplished artist. He would have continued
gazing much longer at this remarkable curiosity had not the voice
desired him to turn round and look at the crystal coffin which
stood opposite.

What was his amazement at seeing a girl of surpassing loveliness
lying in it! She lay as though sleeping, and her long, fair hair
seemed to wrap her round like some costly mantle. Her eyes were
closed, but the bright colour in her face, and the movement of a
ribbon, which rose and fell with her breath, left no doubt as to
her being alive.

As the tailor stood gazing at her with a beating heart, the maiden
suddenly opened her eyes, and started with delighted surprise.

'Great heavens!' she cried, 'my deliverance approaches! Quick,
quick, help me out of my prison; only push back the bolt of this
coffin and I am free.'