Part 10

At once the splayfoot sat down at the wheel, and began to spin and tread. She with the hanging lip moistened the thread, and the woman with the broad thumb pressed and twisted it. They worked so fast that the thread flowed on like a swift stream. Before the next evening they had finished the whole roomful of flax.

When the Queen came again she was delighted to find so much done. “To-morrow,” said she, “you shall begin in the second room.”

The next day the girl was taken into the second room, and it was larger than the first and was also full of flax.

Scarcely had the Queen left her when the door was pushed open, and the three old women came into the room.

“Remember your promise,” said they.

“I remember,” answered the girl.

The old women then took their places and began to spin. Before the next evening they had finished all the flax that was in the room.

When the Queen came to look at what had been done, she was filled with wonder. Not only had all the flax in the room been spun, but she had never seen such smooth and even threads.

“To-morrow,” said she, “you shall spin the flax that is in the third room, and the day after you shall be married to my son.”

The third day all happened just as it had before. The girl was taken to the third room and it was even larger than the others. Scarcely had she been left alone when the three old women opened the door and came in.

“Remember your promise,” said they.

“I will remember,” answered the girl.

The old women took their places, and before night all the flax was spun. Then they rose. “To-morrow will be your wedding day, and we will be at the feast. If you keep your word to us, all will go well with you, but if you forget it, misfortune will surely come upon you.” Then they disappeared through the door as they had come, the eldest first.

When the Queen came that evening she was even more delighted than before. Never had she seen such thread, so smooth it was and even.

The girl was led down from the tower and dressed in silks and velvets and jewels, and when thus dressed she was so beautiful that the Prince was filled with love and joy at the sight of her. The next day they were married, and a grand feast was spread. To this feast all the noblest in the land were invited.

The bride sat beside her husband, and he could look at no one else, she was so beautiful.

Just as the feast was about to begin the door opened and the three old women who had spun the flax came in.

The Prince looked at them wonderingly. Never had he seen such hideous, ugly creatures before. “Who are these?” he asked of the girl.

“These,” said she, “are my three old aunts, and I have promised they shall sit at the table with us, for they have been so kind to me that no one could be kinder.”

The girl then rose, and went to meet the old women. “Welcome, my aunts,” she said, and led them to the table. The Prince loved the girl so dearly that all she did seemed right to him. He commanded that places should be put for the old women, and they sat at the table with him and his bride.

They were so hideous, however, that the Prince could not keep his eyes off them. At length he said to the eldest, “Forgive me, good mother, but why is your foot so broad?”

“From treading the thread, my son, from treading the thread,” she answered.

The Prince wondered; he turned to the second old woman. “And you, good mother,” he said, “why does your lip hang down?”

“From wetting the thread,” she answered. “From wetting the thread.”

The Prince was frightened. He spoke to the third old woman. “And you, why is your thumb so broad, if I may ask it?”

“From pressing and twisting,” she answered. “From pressing and twisting.”

The Prince turned pale. “If this is what comes of spinning,” said he, “never shall my bride touch the flax again.”

And so it was. Never was the girl allowed even to look at a spinning wheel again; and that did not trouble her, as you may guess.

As for the old women, they disappeared as soon as the feast was over, and no one saw them again, but the bride lived happy forever after.

GOLDILOCKS AND THE THREE BEARS

There was once a little girl whose hair was so bright and yellow that it glittered in the sun like spun-gold. For this reason she was called Goldilocks.

One day Goldilocks went out into the meadows to gather flowers. She wandered on and on, and after a while she came to a forest, where she had never been before. She went on into the forest, and it was very cool and shady.

Presently she came to a little house, standing all alone in the forest, and as she was tired and thirsty she knocked at the door. She hoped the good people inside would give her a drink, and let her rest a little while.

Now, though Goldilocks did not know it, this house belonged to three bears. There was a GREAT BIG FATHER BEAR, +and a middling-sized mother bear+, and a _dear little baby bear_, no bigger than Goldilocks herself. But the three bears had gone out to take a walk in the forest while their supper was cooling, so when Goldilocks knocked at the door no one answered her.

She waited awhile and then she knocked again, and as still nobody answered her she pushed the door open and stepped inside. There in a row stood three chairs. One was a GREAT BIG CHAIR, and it belonged to the father bear. And one was a +middling-sized chair+, and it belonged to the mother bear, and one was a _dear little chair_, and it belonged to the baby bear. And on the table stood three bowls of smoking hot porridge. “And so,” thought Goldilocks, “the people must be coming back soon to eat it.”

She thought she would sit down and rest until they came, so first she sat down in the GREAT BIG CHAIR, but the cushion was too soft. It seemed as though it would swallow her up. Then she sat down in the +middle-sized chair+, and the cushion was too hard, and it was not comfortable. Then she sat down in the _dear little chair_, and it was just right, and fitted her as though it had been made for her. So there she sat, and she rocked and she rocked, and she sat and she sat, until with her rocking and her sitting she sat the bottom right out of it.

And still nobody had come, and there stood the bowls of porridge on the table. “They can’t be very hungry people,” thought Goldilocks to herself, “or they would come home to eat their suppers.” And she went over to the table just to see whether the bowls were full.

The first bowl was a GREAT BIG BOWL with a GREAT BIG WOODEN SPOON in it, and that was the father bear’s bowl. The second bowl was a +middle-sized bowl+, with a +middle-sized wooden spoon+ in it, and that was the mother bear’s bowl. And the third bowl was a _dear little bowl_, with a _dear little silver spoon_ in it, and that was the baby bear’s bowl.

The porridge that was in the bowls smelled so very good that Goldilocks thought she would just taste it.

She took up the GREAT BIG SPOON, and tasted the porridge in the GREAT BIG BOWL, but it was too hot. Then she took up the +middle-sized spoon+ and tasted the porridge in the +middle-sized bowl+, and it was too cold. Then she took up the _little silver spoon_ and tasted the porridge in the _dear little bowl_, and it was just right, and it tasted so good that she tasted and tasted, and tasted and tasted until she tasted it all up.

After that she felt very sleepy, so she went upstairs and looked about her, and there were three beds all in a row. The first bed was the GREAT BIG BED that belonged to the father bear. And the second bed was a +middling-sized bed+ that belonged to the mother bear, and the third bed was a _dear little bed_ that belonged to the dear little baby bear.

Goldilocks lay down on the GREAT BIG BED to try it, but the pillow was too high, and she wasn’t comfortable at all.

Then she lay down on the +middle-sized bed+, and the pillow was too low, and that wasn’t comfortable either.

Then she lay down on the _little baby bear’s bed_ and it was exactly right, and so very comfortable that she lay there and lay there until she went fast asleep.

Now while Goldilocks was still asleep in the little bed the three bears came home again, and as soon as they stepped inside the door and looked about them they knew that somebody had been there.

“SOMEBODY’S BEEN SITTING IN MY CHAIR,” growled the father bear in his great big voice, “AND LEFT THE CUSHION CROOKED.”

“+And somebody’s been sitting in my chair+,” said the mother bear, “+and left it standing crooked+.”

“_And somebody’s been sitting in my chair_,” squeaked the baby bear, in his shrill little voice, “_and they’ve sat and sat till they’ve sat the bottom out_”; and he felt very sad about it.

Then the three bears went over to the table to get their porridge.

“WHAT’S THIS!” growled the father bear, in his great big voice, “SOMEBODY’S BEEN TASTING MY PORRIDGE, AND LEFT THE SPOON ON THE TABLE.”

“+And somebody’s been taking my porridge+,” said the mother bear in her middle-sized voice, “+and they’ve splashed it over the side+.”

“_And somebody’s been tasting my porridge_,” squealed the baby bear, “_and they’ve tasted and tasted until they’ve tasted it all up_.” And when he said so the baby bear looked as if he were about to cry.

“+If somebody’s been here they must be here still+,” said the mother bear; so the three bears went upstairs to look.

First the father bear looked at his bed. “SOMEBODY’S BEEN LYING ON MY BED AND PULLED THE COVERS DOWN,” he growled in his great big voice.

Then the mother bear looked at her bed. “+Somebody’s been lying on my bed and pulled the pillow off+,” said she in her middle-sized voice.

Then the baby bear looked at his bed, and there lay little Goldilocks with her cheeks as pink as roses, and her golden hair all spread over the pillow.

“_Somebody’s been lying in my bed_,” squeaked the baby bear joyfully, “_and here she is still!_”

Now when Goldilocks in her dreams heard the great big father bear’s voice she dreamed it was the thunder rolling through the heavens.

And when she heard the mother bear’s middle-sized voice she dreamed it was the wind blowing through the trees.

But when she heard the baby bear’s voice it was so shrill and sharp that it woke her right up. She sat up in bed and there were the three bears standing around and looking at her.

“Oh, my goodness me!” cried Goldilocks. She tumbled out of bed and ran to the window. It was open, and out she jumped before the bears could stop her. Then home she ran as fast as she could, and she never went near the forest again. But the little baby bear cried and cried because he had wanted the pretty little girl to play with.

[Illustration: The Three Little Pigs]

THE THREE LITTLE PIGS

A mother pig and her three little pigs lived together in a wood very happily all through the long summertime, but towards autumn the mother pig called her little ones to her and said, “My dear little pigs, the time has come for you to go out into the world and seek your own fortunes. You will each want to build a little house to live in, but do not build them of straw or leaves; straws are brittle and leaves are frail. Build your houses of bricks, for then you will always have a safe place to live in; you can go in and lock the door, and nothing can harm you.” She then bade the little pigs farewell, and away they ran out into the world to make their fortunes.

The first little pig had not gone far when he met a man with a load of straw. The straw looked so warm, and smelled so good that the little pig quite forgot what his mother had told him.

“Please, Mr. Man,” said the little pig, “give me enough straw to build a house to keep me warm through the long winter.”

The man did not say no. He gave the little pig all the straw he wanted, and then he drove on.

The little pig built himself a house of straw, and it was so warm and cosy that he was quite delighted with it. “How much better,” said he “than a house of cold hard bricks.”

So he lay there snug and warm, and presently the old wolf knocked at the door.

“Piggy-wig, piggy-wig, let me in!” he cried.

“I won’t, by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin,” answered the pig.

“Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house in.”

The little pig laughed aloud, for he felt very safe in his snug straw house.

“Well, then huff, and then puff, and then blow my house in!” he cried.

Well, the old wolf _did_ huff and puff, and he _did_ blow the house in, for it was only made of straw, and then he ate up the pig.

The second little pig when he left the forest ran along and ran along and presently he met a man with a great load of leaves.

“Oh, kind Mr. Man, please give me some leaves to build me a little house for the winter time,” cried the piggy.

The man was willing to do this. He gave the pig all the leaves he wanted, and then he went on his way.

The pig built himself a house of leaves and it was even snugger and warmer than the straw house had been. “How silly my mother was,” said the pig, “to tell me to build a brick house. What could be warmer and cosier and safer than this.” And he snuggled down among the leaves and was very happy.

Presently along came the great wolf, and he stopped and knocked at the door.

“Piggy-wig, piggy-wig, let me in!” he cried.

“I won’t, by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin!”

“Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house in.”

The little pig laughed when he heard that, for the walls were thick, and he felt secure.

“Well, then huff, and then puff, and then _blow_ my house in.”

So the wolf huffed, and he puffed, and he _did_ blow the house in, and he ate up the little pig that was inside of it.

Now the third little pig was the smallest pig of all, but he was a very wise little pig, and he meant to do exactly as his mother had told him to do. After he left the forest he met a man driving a wagon-load of straw, but he did not ask for any of it. He met the man with the load of leaves, but he did not ask for any of it. He met a man with a load of bricks, and _then_ he stopped and begged so prettily for enough bricks to build himself a little house that the man could not refuse him.

The pig took the bricks and built himself a little red house with them, and it was not an easy task either. When it was done it was not so soft as the little straw house, and it was not so warm as the little leaf house, but it was a very _safe_ little house.

Presently the old wolf came along and knocked at the door—rat-tat-tat!

“Piggy-wig, piggy-wig, let me in,” he called.

“I won’t, by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin.”

“Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house in.”

“Well, then huff, and then puff, and then blow my house in,” answered the pig.

So the old wolf huffed and he puffed, and he _puffed and he huffed_, and he +HUFFED AND HE PUFFED+ till he almost split his sides, and he just _couldn’t_ blow the house in, and the little pig laughed to himself as he sat safe and comfortable inside there.

The old wolf saw there was nothing to be done by blowing, so he sat down and thought and thought. Then he said, “Piggy-wig, I know where there is a field of fine turnips.”

“Where?” asked the little pig.

“Open the door and I will tell you.”

No, the little pig could hear quite well with the door closed.

“It is just up the road three fields away,” said the wolf, “and if you would like to have some I will come for you at six o’clock to-morrow morning, and we will go and dig them up together.”

“At six o’clock!” said the little pig. “Very well.”

Then the old wolf trotted off home, licking his lips, and he was well content, for he thought he would have pig for breakfast the next day.

But the next morning the little pig was up and astir by five o’clock. Off he trotted to the turnip field and gathered a whole bagful of turnips and was home again before the old wolf thought of coming.

At six o’clock the old wolf knocked at the door.

“Are you ready to go for the turnips, Piggy?” he cried.

“Ready!” answered the pig. “Why I was up and off to the field an hour ago and I have all the turnips I want, and I’m boiling them for breakfast.”

“That’s what you did!” said the wolf. And then he thought a bit. “Piggy, do you like fine ripe apples?” he asked.

Yes, the pig was very fond of apples.

“Then I can tell you where to find some.”

“Where is that?”

“Over beyond the hill in the squire’s orchard, and if you will play me no tricks I will come for you at five o’clock to-morrow, and we will go together, and gather some.”

Very well; the pig would be ready.

So the wolf trotted off home, and this time he was very sure that he would have a nice fat little piggy for breakfast the next morning.

The little pig got up at four o’clock the next day, and off he started for the orchard as fast as his four little feet would carry him. But the way was long, and the tree was hard to climb, and while he was still up among the branches gathering apples the old wolf came trotting into the orchard. The little pig was very much frightened, but he kept very still and hoped, up among the leaves, the wolf would not see him.

The wolf peered about, first up one tree and then up another, and finally he spied the piggy up among the branches.

“Why did you not wait for me?”

“Oh, I knew you would be along presently.”

“How soon are you coming down?”

“When I have picked a few more apples.”

The old wolf sat down at the foot of the tree, and the pig sat up among the branches crunching apples and smacking his lips.

“Are they good?” asked the wolf looking up; and his mouth watered.

Yes, they were very good.

“Could you not throw one down to me?”

Yes, the little pig could do that.

He picked the biggest, reddest apple he could, and then he threw it, but he threw it far off, and in such a way that it went bounding and rolling down the hill slope. The wolf bounded down the hill after it, and while he was catching it, the little pig climbed down the tree and ran safely home with his basketful of apples.

When the old wolf found the pig had tricked him again he was very angry. He was more determined than ever that he would catch the little pig. He trotted off to the little red house and knocked at the door.

“Did you get all the apples you wanted?” asked the wolf.

Yes, the little pig had all he wanted, and he was very much obliged to the wolf for telling him about the orchard.

“Listen, Piggy, there’s to be a fine fair over in the town to-morrow,” said the wolf. “Wouldn’t you like to go?”

Yes, the little pig would like very much to go.

“Very well,” said the wolf. “Then I will come for you at half-past three to-morrow, and we will go together.”

“Very well,” said the little pig. But long before half-past three the next day, piggy was off to the fair, and he took four bright silver pieces with him, for he wanted to buy himself a butter-churn. It did not take him long to buy the churn, and then he started home again, carrying it on his back.

But the wolf had learned a thing or two about the little pig’s tricks. He, too, started off to the fair long before half-past three, and so it was that the little pig was scarcely half-way home, and had just reached the top of a high hill, when he saw the wolf come trotting up the hill directly toward him. The little pig was terrified. He looked all around but he could not see any place to hide. He decided the best thing he could do was to get inside the churn. So he put it down and crept inside it. But the hill was very steep, and no sooner was the piggy inside the churn than it began to roll down the hill slope bumpety-bumpety-bump, over rocks and stones, leaping and bounding like a live thing. The little pig did not know what was happening to him. He began to squeal at the top of his voice.

The old wolf was half-way up the hill when he heard the noise. He looked up, and there was a great round thing coming bounding over the rocks straight at him, and squeaking and squeaking as it came. He gave one look and his hair bristled with fear, and with a howl he turned tail and ran home as fast as he could. He never stopped till he was safe inside his house, and had shut and locked the door behind him. There he crouched, trembling and wondering what would happen. But nothing happened, and all was quiet, so after awhile the wolf ventured out and ran over to the pig’s house.

“Piggy, Piggy! Are you in there?”

Yes, the little pig was sitting by the fire roasting apples.

“Then, listen while I tell you what happened to me on the way to the fair.” Then the wolf put his nose close to the crack of the door, and told the little pig all about the great round squealing thing that had chased him down the hill.

The little pig laughed and laughed. “And I can tell you exactly what the great squealing thing was; it was a churn I had bought at the fair, and I was inside it.”

[Illustration]