The Crimson Fairy Book by Andrew Lang (books for men to read txt) 📖

has happened?’ asked the ogre, trembling with fright.

‘Do you see that troop of horsemen who are riding along the road? They are sent by the king to kill you!’

‘Oh, dear little fox, help us, we implore you!’ cried the ogre and his wife.

‘Well, I will do what I can,’ answered the fox. ‘The best place is for you both to hide in the big oven, and when the soldiers have gone by I will let you out.’

The ogre and ogress scrambled into the oven as quick as thought, and the fox banged the door on them; just as he did so the king came up.

‘Do us the honour to dismount, your Majesty,’ said the fox, bowing low. ‘This is the palace of Count Piro!’

‘Why it is more splendid than my own!’ exclaimed the king, looking round on all the beautiful things that filled the hall. But why are there no servants?’

‘His Excellency the Count Piro wished the princess to choose them for herself,’ answered the fox, and the king nodded his approval. He then rode on, leaving the bridal pair in the castle. But when it was dark and all was still, the fox crept downstairs and lit the kitchen fire, and the ogre and his wife were burned to death. The next morning the fox said to Count Piro:

‘Now that you are rich and happy, you have no more need of me; but, before I go, there is one thing I must ask of you in return: when I die, promise me that you will give me a magnificent coffin, and bury me with due honours.’

‘Oh, little, little fox, don’t talk of dying,’ cried the princess, nearly weeping, for she had taken a great liking to the fox.

After some time the fox thought he would see if the Count Piro was really grateful to him for all he had done, and went back to the castle, where he lay down on the door-step, and pretended to be dead. The princess was just going out for a walk, and directly she saw him lying there, she burst into tears and fell on her knees beside him.

‘My dear little fox, you are not dead,’ she wailed; ‘you poor, poor little creature, you shall have the finest coffin in the world!’

‘A coffin for an animal?’ said Count Piro. ‘What nonsense! just take him by the leg and throw him into the ditch.’

Then the fox sprang up and cried: ‘You wretched, thankless beggar; have you forgotten that you owe all your riches to me?’

Count Piro was frightened when he heard these words, as he thought that perhaps the fox might have power to take away the castle, and leave him as poor as when he had nothing to eat but the pears off his tree. So he tried to soften the fox’s anger, saying that he had only spoken in joke, as he had known quite well that he was not really dead. For the sake of the princess, the fox let himself be softened, and he lived in the castle for many years, and played with Count Piro’s children. And when he actually did die, his coffin was made of silver, and Count Piro and his wife followed him to the grave.

[From Sicilianische Mahrchen.]

 

The Rogue And The Herdsman

In a tiny cottage near the king’s palace there once lived an old man, his wife, and his son, a very lazy fellow, who would never do a stroke of work. He could not be got even to look after their one cow, but left her to look after herself, while he lay on a bank and went to sleep in the sun. For a long time his father bore with him, hoping that as he grew older he might gain more sense; but at last the old man’s patience was worn out, and he told his son that he should not stay at house in idleness, and must go out into the world to seek his fortune.

The young man saw that there was no help for it, and he set out with a wallet full of food over his shoulder. At length he came to a large house, at the door of which he knocked.

‘What do you want?’ asked the old man who opened it. And the youth told him how his father had turned him out of his house because he was so lazy and stupid, and he needed shelter for the night.

‘That you shall have,’ replied the man; ‘but to-morrow I shall give you some work to do, for you must know that I am the chief herdsman of the king.’

The youth made no answer to this. He felt, if he was to be made to work after all, that he might as well have stayed where he was. But as he did not see any other way of getting a bed, he went slowly in.

The herdsman’s two daughters and their mother were sitting at supper, and invited him to join them. Nothing more was said about work, and when the meal was over they all went to bed.

In the morning, when the young man was dressed, the herdsman called to him and said:

‘Now listen, and I will tell you what you have to do.’

‘What is it?’ asked the youth, sulkily.

‘Nothing less than to look after two hundred pigs,’ was the reply.

‘Oh, I am used to that,’ answered the youth.

‘Yes; but this time you will have to do it properly,’ said the herdsman; and he took the youth to the place where the pigs were feeding, and told him to drive them to the woods on the side of the mountain. This the young man did, but as soon as they reached the outskirts of the mountain they grew quite wild, and would have run away altogether, had they not luckily gone towards a narrow ravine, from which the youth easily drove them home to his father’s cottage.

‘Where do all these pigs come from, and how did you get them?’ asked the old man in surprise, when his son knocked at the door of the hut he had left only the day before.

‘They belong to the king’s chief herdsman,’ answered his son. ‘He gave them to me to look after, but I knew I could not do it, so I drove them straight to you. Now make the best of your good fortune, and kill them and hang them up at once.’

‘What are you talking about?’ cried the father, pale with horror. ‘We should certainly both be put to death if I did any such thing.’

‘No, no; do as I tell you, and I will get out of it somehow,’ replied the young man. And in the end he had his way. The pigs were killed, and laid side by side in a row. Then he cut off the tails and tied them together with a piece of cord, and swinging the bundle over his back, he returned to the place where they should have been feeding. Here there was a small swamp, which was just what he wanted, and finding a large stone, he fastened the rope to it, and sank it in the swamp, after which he arranged the tails carefully one by one, so that only their points were seen sticking out of the water. When everything was in order, he hastened home to his master with such a sorrowful face that the herdsman saw at once that something dreadful had happened.

‘Where are the pigs?’ asked he.

‘Oh, don’t speak of them!’ answered the young man; ‘I really can hardly tell you. The moment they got into the field they became quite mad, and each ran in a different direction. I ran too, hither and thither, but as fast as I caught one, another was off, till I was in despair. At last, however, I collected them all and was about to drive them back, when suddenly they rushed down the hill into the swamp, where they vanished completely, leaving only the points of their tails, which you can see for yourself.’

‘You have made up that story very well,’ replied the herdsman.

‘No, it is the real truth; come with me and I’ll prove it.’ And they went together to the spot, and there sure enough were the points of the tails sticking up out of the water. The herdsman laid hold of the nearest, and pulled at it with all his might, but it was no use, for the stone and the rope held them all fast. He called to the young man to help him, but the two did not succeed any better than the one had done.

‘Yes, your story was true after all; it is a wonderful thing,’ said the herdsman. ‘But I see it is no fault of yours. and I must put up with my loss as well as I can. Now let us return home, for it is time for supper.

Next morning the herdsman said to the young man: ‘I have got some other work for you to do. To-day you must take a hundred sheep to graze; but be careful that no harm befalls them.’

‘I will do my best,’ replied the youth. And he opened the gate of the fold, where the sheep had been all night, and drove them out into the meadow. But in a short time they grew as wild as the pigs had done, and scattered in all directions. The young man could not collect them, try as he would, and he thought to himself that this was the punishment for his laziness in refusing to look after his father’s one cow.

At last, however, the sheep seemed tired of running about, and then the youth managed to gather them together, and drove them, as before, straight to his father’s house.

‘Whose sheep are these, and what are they doing here?’ asked the old man in wonder, and his son told him. But when the tale was ended the father shook his head.

‘Give up these bad ways and take them back to your master,’ said he.

‘No, no,’ answered the youth; ‘I am not so stupid as that! We will kill them and have them for dinner.’

‘You will lose your life if you do,’ replied the father.

‘Oh, I am not sure of that!’ said the son, ‘and, anyway, I will have my will for once.’ And he killed all the sheep and laid them on the grass. But he cut off the head of the ram which always led the flock and had bells round its horns. This he took back to the place where they should have been feeding, for here he had noticed a high rock, with a patch of green grass in the middle and two or three thick bushes growing on the edge. Up this rock he climbed with great difficulty, and fastened the ram’s head to the bushes with a cord, leaving only the tips of the horns with the bells visible. As there was a soft breeze blowing, the bushes to which the head was tied moved gently, and the bells rang. When all was done to his liking he hastened quickly back to his master.

‘Where are the sheep?’ asked the herdsman as the young man ran panting up the steps.

‘Oh! don’t speak of them,’ answered he. ‘It is only by a miracle that I am here myself.’

‘Tell me at once what has happened,’ said the herdsman sternly.

The youth began to sob, and stammered out: ‘I—I hardly know how to tell you! They—they—they were so—so troublesome—that I could not manage them at all. They—ran about in—in all directions, and I- -I—ran after them and nearly died of fatigue. Then I heard a—a noise, which I—I thought