The editor of a London literary journal was recently inviting men and women in prominent positions in public life to name for publication the books of their childhood. So far as I observed, none of the half-hundred or more who responded gaveBlue Beard,Cinderella,Little Red Riding Hood, or any of the others in the same category that follow here. But I am none the less convinced that these old-time favourites, not yet unknown, though familiar to city children in the present generation mainly in their variegated and fantastic Christmas pantomime form, were in Scotland and England alike in the last century more essentially the books of childhood than any others known and read beyond the walls of the school-room. The travelling stationers and packmen carried them in their thousands, in chapbook form, into even the most remote parts of the country, where they were bartered for and explored with avidity. In many quarters, indeed, they were so familiar fifty years ago that the books on occasions could be dispensed with, and the elder members of families would recite the stories from memory for the delectation of the younger fry, when all foregathered in a crescent before the kitchen fire to wear out the long winter evenings. In this manner, under the dim-flickering light of an "oilie cruizie," in a stragglingvillage in Perthshire, did I learn first of Blue Beard and Jack the Giant Killer, and many another hero of chapbook literature. And my experience, I am sure, was by no means singular. Rather, I feel certain that while telling thus my own, I am expressing no less truly the experience of many thousands of men and women now beyond middle life who similarly were born and bred in any rural parish in Scotland. And, oh, the weird fascination of it all! There was no doubting of Blue Beard's reality; no hesitation in accepting as actual every extraordinary feat of Jack the Giant Killer. Both were as real in our innocent imagination as is now the personality of King Edward the Seventh. It never occurred to us then, as it does now, that the story of Blue Beard is only a gory and fantastic parody of the history of Eden—a temptation, a fall, and a rescue. And we had no concern about authorship. We did not know then, as we do now—and as few are yet aware, perhaps—thatBlue Beard,Cinderella, andLittle Red Riding Hoodwere all written by Charles Perrault, a celebrated French literateur and poet, who was born in Paris in 1628, and died there in 1703. And to have been told, as we have recently been, on authority that Perrault's Blue Beard—the Comte Gilles de Rais—was no mere wife-killer (though he was such) but from his youth upwards, in the fifteenth century, a man of exquisite culture, and a soldier under Joan of Arc, would have made for disillusionment so emphatic as to have shred the tale of a serious amount of its blood-curdling charm. As I can still enjoy reading them, it is a real pleasure to embrace here these old-time examples of child literature. Such as follow—and all the more popular will be found in the list—are printedverbatimfrom the chapbooks now unobtainable, exceptat a ransom price—and without individual comment—none being required.
There was, some time ago, a gentleman who was extremely rich: he had elegant town and country houses; his dishes and plates were of gold or silver; his rooms were hung with damask; his chairs and sofas were covered with the richest silks; and his carriages were all magnificently gilt with gold.
But, unfortunately, this gentleman had a blue beard, which made him so very frightful and ugly, that none of the ladies in the neighbourhood would venture to go into his company.
It happened that a lady of quality, who lived very near him, had two daughters, who were both extremely beautiful. Blue Beard asked her to bestow one of them upon him in marriage, leaving to herself the choice which of the two it should be.
They both, however, again and again refused to marry Blue Beard; but to be as civil as possible, they each pretended that they refused because she would not deprive her sister of the opportunity of marrying so much to her advantage. But the truth was, they could not bear the thought of having a husband with a blue beard: and, besides, they had heard of his having already been married to several wives, and nobody could tell what had afterwards become of them.
As Blue Beard wished very much to gain their favour, he invited the lady and her daughters, and some ladies who were on a visit at their house, to accompany him to one of his country seats, where they spent a whole week, during which nothing was thoughtof but parties for hunting and fishing, music, dancing, collations, and the most delightful entertainments. No one thought of going to bed, and the nights were passed in merriment of every kind.
In short, the time had passed so agreeably, that the youngest of the two sisters began to think that the beard which had so much terrified her was not so very blue, and that the gentleman to whom it belonged was vastly civil and pleasing.
Soon after they returned home, she told her mother that she had no longer any objection to accept Blue Beard as her husband; and, accordingly, in a short time they were married.
About a month after the marriage had taken place, Blue Beard told his wife that he should be obliged to leave her for a few weeks, as he had some business to do in the country. He desired her to be sure to procure herself every kind of amusement, to invite as many of her friends as she liked, and to treat them with all sorts of delicacies, that the time might pass agreeably during his absence. "Here," said he, "are the keys of the two large wardrobes. This is the key of the great box that contains the best plate, which we use for company; this belongs to my strong box, where I keep my money; and this to the casket in which are all my jewels. Here also is a master key to all the apartments in my house—but this small key belongs to the closet at the end of the long gallery on the ground floor. I give you leave," continued he, "to open or do what you like with all the rest excepting this closet: this, my dear, you must not enter, nor even put the key into the lock, for all the world. Should you disobey me, expect the most dreadful of punishments."
She promised to obey his orders in the most faithfulmanner; and Blue Beard, after tenderly embracing her, stepped into his carriage and drove away.
The friends of the bride did not, on this occasion, wait to be invited, so impatient were they to see all the riches and magnificence she had gained by marriage, for they had been prevented from paying their wedding visit by their aversion to the blue beard of the bridegroom.
No sooner were they arrived than they impatiently ran from room to room, from cabinet to cabinet, and then from wardrobe to wardrobe, examining each with the utmost curiosity, and declaring that the last was still richer and more beautiful than what they had seen the moment before. At length they came to the drawing-rooms, where their admiration and astonishment were still increased by the costly splendour of the hangings, of the sofas, the chairs, carpets, tables, girandoles, and looking-glasses, the frames of which were silver gilt, most richly ornamented, and in which they saw themselves from head to foot.
In short, nothing could exceed the magnificence of what they saw; and the visitors did not cease to extol and envy the good fortune of their friend, who all this time was far from being amused by the fine compliments they paid her, so eagerly did she desire to see what was in the closet her husband had forbidden her to open. So great indeed was her curiosity, that, without recollecting how uncivil it would be to leave her guests, she descended a private staircase that led to it, and in such a hurry, that she was two or three times in danger of breaking her neck.
When she reached the door of the closet, she stopped for a few moments to think of the charge her husband had given her, and that he would not fail to keep hisword in punishing her very severely, should she disobey him. But she was so very curious to know what was in the inside, that she determined to venture in spite of everything.
She, accordingly, with a trembling hand, put the key into the lock, and the door immediately opened. The window shutters being closed, she at first saw nothing; but in a short time she perceived that the floor was covered with clotted blood, on which the bodies of several dead women were lying. These were all the wives whom Blue Beard had married and murdered, one after another. She was ready to sink with fear, and the key of the closet door, which she held in her hand, fell on the floor. When she had somewhat recovered from her fright, she took it up, locked the door, and hastened to her own room, that she might have a little time to get into humour for amusing her visitors; but this she found impossible, so greatly was she terrified by what she had seen.
As she observed that the key of the closet had got stained with blood in falling on the floor, she wiped it two or three times over to clean it; still, however, the blood remained the same as before; she next washed it, but the blood did not stir at all; she then scoured it with brickdust, and afterwards with sand, but notwithstanding all she could do the blood was still there, for the key was a fairy, who was Blue Beard's friend, so that as fast as she got it off on one side, it appeared again on the other.
Early in the evening Blue Beard returned home, saying he had not proceeded far on his journey before he was met by a messenger who was coming to tell him that his business was happily concluded without his being present, upon which his wife said everything shecould think of, to make him believe she was transported with joy at his unexpected return.
The next morning he asked for the keys: she gave them to him; but as she could not help showing her fright, Blue Beard easily guessed what had happened. "How is it," said he, "that the key of the closet upon the ground floor is not here?"
"Is it not? Then I must have left it on my dressing-table," said she, and left the room in tears.
"Be sure you give it to me by and by," cried Blue Beard.
After going several times backwards and forwards, pretending to look for the key, she was at last obliged to give it to Blue Beard. He looked at it attentively, and then said, "How came the blood upon the key?"
"I am sure I do not know," replied the lady, turning at the same time as pale as death.
"You do not know," said Blue Beard sternly; "but I know well enough. You have been in the closet on the ground floor. Very well, madam; since you are so mightily fond of this closet, you shall certainly take your place among the ladies you saw there."
His wife, almost dead with fear, fell upon her knees, asked his pardon a thousand times for her disobedience, and entreated him to forgive her, looking all the time so very sorrowful and lovely, that she would have melted any heart that was not harder than a rock.
But Blue Beard answered, "No, no, madam; you shall die this very minute!"
"Alas!" said the poor trembling creature, "if I must die, allow me, at least, a little time to say my prayers."
"I give you," replied the cruel Blue Beard, "half a quarter of an hour; not one moment longer."
When Blue Beard had left her to herself, she called her sister; and after telling her, as well as she could for sobbing, that she had but half a quarter of an hour to live: "Pr'ythee," said she, "sister Ann" (this was her sister's name), "run up to the top of the tower, and see if my brothers are yet in sight, for they promised to come and visit me to-day; and if you see them make a sign for them to gallop as fast as possible."
Her sister instantly did as she was desired, and the terrified lady every minute called out to her, "Ann! sister Ann! do you see any one coming?"
And her sister answered, "I see nothing but the sun, which makes a dust, and the grass which looks green."
In the meantime, Blue Beard, with a great scimitar in his hand, bawled as loud as he could to his wife, "Come down instantly, or I will fetch you."
"One moment longer, I beseech you," replied she; and again called softly to her sister, "Sister Ann, do you see any one coming?"
To which she answered, "I see nothing but the sun, which makes a dust, and the grass which looks green."
Blue Beard now again bawled out, "Come down, I say, this very moment, or I shall come and fetch you."
"I am coming; indeed, I will come in one minute," sobbed his unhappy wife. Then she once more cried out, "Ann! sister Ann! do you see any one coming?"
"I see," said her sister, "a cloud of dust a little to the left."
"Do you think it is my brothers?" continued the wife.
"Alas! no, dear sister," replied she; "it is only a flock of sheep."
"Will you come down or not, madam?" cried Blue Beard, in the greatest rage imaginable.
"Only one single moment more," answered she. And then she called out for the last time, "Sister Ann! do you see any one coming?"
"I see," replied her sister, "two men on horseback coming to the house: but they are still at a great distance."
"God be praised!" cried she, "it is my brothers; give them a sign to make what haste they can."
At the same moment Blue Beard cried out so loud for her to come down, that his voice shook the whole house.
The poor lady with her hair loose, and her eyes swimming in tears, instantly came down, and fell on her knees to Blue Beard, and was going to beg him to spare her life, but he interrupted her, saying, "All this is of no use at all, for you shall die;" then seizing her with one hand by the hair, and raising the scimitar he held in the other, was going with one blow to strike off her head.
The unfortunate creature turning towards him, desired to have a single moment allowed her to recollect herself.
"No, no," said Blue Beard, "I will give you no more time, I am determined—you have had too much already;" and again raised his arm—Just at this instant a loud knocking was heard at the gates, which made Blue Beard wait for a moment to see who it was. The gates were opened, and two officers dressed in their regimentals entered, and, with their swords in their hands, ran instantly to Blue Beard, who, seeing they were his wife's brothers, endeavoured to escape from their presence; but they pursued and seized him before he had gone twenty steps, and plunging theirswords into his body, he immediately fell down dead at their feet.
The poor wife, who was almost as dead as her husband, was unable at first to rise and embrace her brothers. She soon, however, recovered; and as Blue Beard had no heirs, she found herself the lawful possessor of his great riches.
She employed a portion of her vast fortune in giving a marriage dowry to her sister Ann, who soon after became the wife of a young gentleman by whom she had long been beloved. Another part she employed in buying captains' commissions for her two brothers; and the rest she presented to a most worthy gentleman, whom she married soon after, and whose kind treatment soon made her forget Blue Beard's cruelty.
In days of yore, there lived a widow who had a son named Jack. Being an only child, he was too much indulged, and became so extravagant and careless that he wasted the property which his mother possessed, until at last there remained only a cow, the chief support of her and her son.
One day the poor woman, with tears in her eyes, said to Jack—"O, you wicked child, by your ungrateful course of life you have brought me to beggary in my old age; cruel boy! I have not money to buy even a bit of bread, and we must now sell the cow. I am grieved to part with her, but I cannot see you starve."
Jack felt some remorse, but having less affection for the cow than his mother had, he drove her to the nearest market town, where he met a butcher, whomade a very curious offer for her. "Your cow," said he, "you young prodigal dog! is worth nothing; you have starved her until she would disgrace the shambles; and, as to milk, no wonder that you and your mother have been starving while you were depending upon that supply. Oneillturn deserves another, and receives it just as surely as onegoodturn deserves another. But you shall not take back the cow to perish with hunger. I have got some beans in my pocket; they are the oddest I ever saw, not one of them being, either in colour or shape, like another; if you will take them in exchange for the cow, you may have them."
The silly boy could not conceal the pleasure he felt at the offer. The bargain was struck, and the cow exchanged for a few paltry beans. Jack made the best of his way home, calling to his mother before he reached the house, thinking to surprise her. When she saw the beans and heard Jack's story, her patience quite forsook her; she kicked the beans away in a passion; they flew in all directions—some were scattered in the garden. Not having anything to eat, they both went supperless to bed.
Jack awoke early in the morning, and, seeing something uncommon in the garden, soon discovered that some of the beans had taken root and sprung up surprisingly; the stalks were of great thickness, and had so entwined that they formed a ladder, nearly like a chain in appearance.
Looking upwards, he could not discern the top; it appeared to be lost in the clouds. He tried the beanstalks, found them firm and not to be shaken. He quickly formed the resolution of climbing to the top to seek his fortune, and ran to communicate his intentionto his mother, not doubting but she would be equally pleased with himself. She declared he should not go; said it would break her heart if he did—entreated and threatened, but all in vain.
Jack set out, and, after climbing for some hours, reached the top of the bean-stalk quite fatigued. Looking around, he found himself in a strange country. It appeared to be a desert, quite barren—not a tree, shrub, house, or living creature to be seen.
Jack seated himself upon a stone, and thought of his mother; he reflected with sorrow on his disobedience in climbing the bean-stalk against her will, and concluded that he must die of hunger.
However, he walked on, hoping to see a house where he might beg something to eat and drink. Presently a handsome young woman appeared at a distance. As she approached, Jack could not help admiring how beautiful she looked; she was dressed in the most elegant manner, and had a white wand in her hand, on the top of which was a peacock of pure gold. While Jack was looking with the greatest surprise at this charming female, with a smile of the most bewitching sweetness, she inquired how he came there? Jack told how he had climbed up the bean-stalk. She asked him if he recollected his father? He answered that he did not; and added that he had inquired of his mother who or where his father was, but that she avoided answering him, and even seemed afraid of speaking, as if there was some secret connected with his father's history.
The lady replied, "I will reveal the whole story; your mother must not. But, before I begin, I require a solemn promise, on your part, to do what I command. I am a fairy, and if you do not perform exactlywhat I desire, you will be destroyed." Jack promised to obey her injunctions, and the fairy thus addressed him:—
"Your father was a rich and benevolent man; he was good to the poor, and constantly relieving them; he never let a day pass without doing good to some person. On one particular day in the week he kept open house, and invited those who were reduced and had lived well. He always sat at the table with them himself, and did all he could to render his guests comfortable. The servants were all happy, and greatly attached to their master and mistress. Such a man was soon known and talked of. A giant lived a great many miles off, who was altogether as wicked as your father was good; he was envious, covetous, and cruel, but had the art of concealing these vices.
"Hearing your father spoken of, he formed the design of becoming acquainted with him, hoping to ingratiate himself into your father's favour. He removed quickly into your neighbourhood, caused it to be reported that he had lost all he possessed by an earthquake, and found it difficult to escape with his life; his wife was with him. Your father believed his story, and pitied him; he gave him apartments in his own house, and caused him and his wife to be treated hospitably, little imagining that the giant was meditating a horrid return for all his favours.
"Things went on in this way for some time, the giant becoming daily more impatient to put his plan into execution. At last, an opportunity presented itself. Your father's house was at some distance from the sea-shore, but the giant, standing on a hill one stormy day, observed some ships in distress off the rocks; he hastened to your father, and requested thathe would send all the people he could spare to relieve the mariners.
"While the servants were all employed upon this service, the giant despatched your father by stabbing him with a dagger. You were then only three months old, and your mother, upon discovering what had happened, fainted, but still clasping you in her arms. The giant, who intended to murder both of you, having found her in that state, for a short time repented of the dreadful crime he had committed, and granted your mother and you your lives, but only upon condition that she should never inform you who your father was, nor answer any questions concerning him, assuring her that, if she did, he would certainly put both of you to death in the most cruel manner. Your mother took you in her arms, and fled as quickly as possible. Having gained your father's confidence, he knew where to find all his treasure. He and his wife soon carried off two large chests filled with gold, which they could not have done unless they had been giants, and, having set the house on fire in several places, when the servants returned it was burned quite down to the ground.
"Your poor mother wandered with you a great many miles from this scene of desolation; fear added to her haste; she settled in the cottage where you were brought up, and it was entirely owing to her fear of the giant that she never mentioned your father to you.
"I became your father's guardian at his birth; but fairies have laws to which they are subject as well as mortals. A short time before the giant went to your father's, I transgressed; my punishment was a suspension of power for a limited time—an unfortunate circumstance, as it totally prevented my succouring your father.
"The day on which you met the butcher, as you went to sell your mother's cow, my power was restored; and, as I had been told by Oberon, the King of the Fairies, how dreadful were the consequences to your father of my single error, I resolved to take you under my protection, and to be more circumspect in future. It was I who secretly prompted you to take the beans in exchange for the cow.
"By my power the bean-stalk grew to so great a height, and formed a ladder. I need not add that I inspired you with a strong desire to ascend the ladder.
"The giant now lives in this country; you are the person appointed to punish him for all his wickedness. You will have dangers and difficulties to encounter, but you must persevere in avenging the death of your father or you will not prosper in any of your undertakings, but be always miserable.
"As to the giant's possessions, you may seize on all you can, for everything he has belongs either to you or to me; for you must know that, not satisfied with the gold he carried off from your father, he broke into my house and stole the two greatest curiosities ever possessed even by a fairy, and would have killed me as he did your father, if it could have been possible to kill a fairy. One thing I desire—do not let your mother know you are acquainted with your father's history till you see me again.
"Go along the direct road; you will soon see the house where your cruel enemy lives. While you do as I order you, I will protect and guard you; but, remember, if you disobey my commands a most dreadful punishment awaits you."
When the fairy had concluded, she disappeared, leaving Jack to pursue his journey. He walked on tillafter sunset, when, to his great joy, he espied a large mansion. A plain-looking woman was at the door; he accosted her, begging she would give him a morsel of bread and a night's lodging. She expressed the greatest surprise at seeing him, and said it was quite uncommon to see a human being near the house, for it was well known that her husband was a large and powerful giant, and that he would never eat anything but human flesh, if he possibly could get it; that he did not think anything of walking fifty miles to procure it.
This account greatly terrified Jack, but he still hoped to elude the giant, and therefore he again entreated the woman to take him in for one night only, and hide him where she thought proper. The woman at last suffered herself to be persuaded, for although she had assisted in the murder of Jack's father and in stealing the gold, she was of a compassionate and generous disposition, and took him into the house.
First they entered a fine large hall, magnificently furnished; they then passed through several spacious rooms, all in the same style of grandeur.
A long gallery was next; it was very dark, just light enough to show that, instead of a wall on one side, there was a grating of iron which parted off a dismal dungeon, whence issued the groans of those poor victims whom the cruel giant reserved in confinement for his own voracious appetite.
Poor Jack was half dead with fear, and would have given the world to have been with his mother again, for he now began to fear that he should never see her more, and gave himself up for lost; he even mistrusted the giant's wife, and thought she had let him into thehouse for no other purpose than to lock him up among the unfortunate people in the dungeon.
At the farther end of the gallery there was a spacious kitchen, and a fire was burning in the grate. The good woman bade Jack sit down, and gave him plenty to eat and drink. Jack, not seeing anything here to make him uncomfortable, soon forgot his fear, and was beginning to enjoy himself, when he was aroused by a loud knocking at the door, which made the whole house shake; the giant's wife ran to secure him in the oven, and then went to let her husband in.
Jack heard him accost her in a voice like thunder, saying—
"Wife, I smell fresh meat."
"Oh! my dear," replied she, "it is only the people in the dungeon."
The giant appeared to believe her and walked into the kitchen, where poor Jack lay concealed, shaking with fear and trembling in every limb.
At last, the monster seated himself by the fireside, whilst his wife prepared supper. By degrees Jack took courage to look at the giant through a small crevice; he was quite astonished to see what an amazing quantity he devoured, and thought he never would have done eating and drinking. When supper was ended, the giant desired his wife to bring him his hen, which was one of the curiosities he had stolen from the fairy. A very beautiful hen was brought, and placed on the table before him. Jack's curiosity was very great to see what would happen; he observed that every time the giant said, "Lay!" the hen laid an egg of solid gold.
The giant amused himself a long time with his hen; meanwhile his wife went to bed. At length the giantfell asleep by the fireside, and snored like the roaring of a cannon. At daybreak, Jack, finding the giant still asleep, crept softly out of his hiding-place, seized the hen, and ran off with her.
He easily found the way to the bean-stalk, and descended it more quickly than he expected. His mother was overjoyed to see him, for she concluded he had come to a shocking end.
Jack was impatient to show his hen, and inform his mother how valuable it was.
"And now, mother," said Jack, "I have brought home that which will quickly make us rich; and I hope to make you some amends for the affliction I have caused you through my idleness and extravagance."
The hen produced as many golden eggs as they desired, and so they became possessed of immense riches.
For some months, Jack and his mother lived very happily together; but he, recollecting the fairy's commands, and fearing that if he delayed to avenge his father's death, she would put her threats into execution, longed to climb the bean-stalk again and pay the giant another visit. Jack was, however, afraid to mention it to his mother, being well assured that she would endeavour to prevent his going. However, one day he told her boldly that he must take a journey up the bean-stalk. She begged and prayed him not to think of it; she told him that the giant's wife would certainly know him again, and that the giant would desire nothing better than to get him into his power, that he might put him to a cruel death in order to be revenged for the loss of his hen.
Jack resolved to go at all events; for, being a very clever fellow, although a very idle one, he had no greatdread of the giant, concluding that, although he was a cannibal, he must be a very stupid fellow not to have regained his hen, it being just as easy to come down the stupendous bean-stalk as to ascend it. Jack, therefore, had a dress made, not exactly invisible, like that of his illustrious namesake, the Giant-killer, but one which so disguised him that even
"The mother that him boreWould not have known her child."
In a few mornings after this, he rose very early, changed his complexion, and, unperceived by any one, climbed the bean-stalk a second time. He was greatly fatigued when he reached the top, and very hungry, for, with his usual thoughtlessness, he forgot to take a piece of bread in his pocket.
Here we are inclined to remark that, as he had neitherbreadnorbacon, he must in his progress have met with a good supply of beans; but perhaps he never thought of this resource.
Having rested some time, he pursued his journey to the giant's mansion. He reached it late in the evening; the woman was at the door as before. Jack addressed her, telling a pitiful tale, and requesting that she would give him some victuals and drink, and also a night's lodging.
She told him (what he knew before very well) about her husband's being a powerful and cruel giant; and also that she one night admitted a poor, hungry, friendless boy, who was half-dead with travelling; that the little ungrateful fellow had stolen one of the giant's treasures, and ever since that her husband had used her very cruelly, and continually upbraided her with being the cause of his loss. But at last she consented and took him into the kitchen, where, after he had doneeating and drinking, she laid him in an old lumber closet. The giant returned at the usual time, and walked in so heavily that the house was shaken to the foundation. He seated himself by the fire, and soon after exclaimed, "Wife, I smell fresh meat."
The wife replied, "It was the crows which had brought a piece of raw meat, and left it on the top of the house."
The giant was very ill-tempered and impatient, continually crying for his supper, like little Tom Tucker, and complaining of the loss of his wonderful hen, which we verily believe he would have eaten, disregarding the treasures which she produced. Jack therefore rejoiced that he had not only got possession of the hen, but had in all probability saved her precious life.
The giant's wife at last set supper on the table, and when he had eaten till he was satisfied, he said to her—"I must have something to amuse me, either my bags of money or my harp." Jack, as before, peeped out of his hiding-place, and presently his wife brought two bags into the room, one filled with gold and the other with silver.
They were both placed before the giant, who began reprimanding his wife for staying so long. She replied, trembling with fear, that the bags were so heavy that she could scarcely lift them, and adding that she had nearly fainted owing to their weight.
The giant took his bags, and began to count their contents. First the bag which contained the silver was emptied, and the contents placed on the table. Jack viewed the glittering heaps with delight, and most heartily wished the contents in his own possession. The giant (little thinking he was so narrowly watched) reckoned the silver over several times; and, havingsatisfied himself that all was safe, put it into the bag again, which he made very secure.
The other bag was opened next, and the gold pieces placed on the table. If Jack was pleased at the sight of the silver, how much more delighted must he have felt when he saw such a heap of glittering gold?
When the giant had counted over the gold till he was tired, he put it up, if possible, more secure than he had put up the silver before; he then fell back on the chair by the fireside, and fell asleep. He snored so loud that Jack compared the noise to the roaring of the sea in a high wind, when the tide is coming in. At last, Jack, being certain that he was asleep, stole out of his hiding-place and approached the giant, in order to carry off the two bags of money; but, just as he laid his hand upon one of the bags, a little dog, which he had not perceived before, started from under the giant's chair and barked at Jack most furiously, who now gave himself up for lost. But Jack, recollecting that the giant had left the bones which he had picked at supper, threw one to the dog, who instantly seized it, and took it into the lumber closet which Jack had just left.
Finding himself delivered from a noisy and troublesome enemy, and seeing the giant did not awake, Jack seized the bags, and, throwing them over his shoulders, ran out of the kitchen. He reached the door in safety, and found it quite daylight,
Jack was overjoyed when he found himself near the bean-stalk; although much incommoded with the weight of the money bags, he soon reached the bottom, and immediately ran to seek his mother. He was greatly shocked on finding her apparently dying, and could scarcely bear his own reflections, knowing himself to be the cause. On being informed of Jack's safereturn, his mother gradually recovered. Jack presented her his two valuable bags, and they lived as happily and comfortably as ever.
For three years, notwithstanding the comforts Jack enjoyed, his mind dwelt continually upon the bean-stalk; for the fairy's menaces were ever present to his mind, and prevented him from being happy. It was in vain he endeavoured to amuse himself; he became thoughtful, and would rise at the dawn of day and view the bean-stalk for hours together.
His inclination at length growing too powerful for him, he began to make secret preparations for his journey, and, on the longest day, arose as soon as it was light, ascended the bean-stalk, and reached the top. He arrived at the giant's mansion in the evening, and found his wife standing, as usual, at the door. Jack had disguised himself so completely that she did not appear to have the least recollection of him; however, when he pleaded hunger and poverty in order to gain admittance, he found it very difficult indeed to persuade her. At last he prevailed, and was concealed in the oven.
When the giant returned, he said, as upon the former occasions, "I smell fresh meat!" But Jack felt quite composed, as he had said so before, and had been soon satisfied; however, the giant started up suddenly, and, notwithstanding all his wife could say, he searched all around the room. Jack was ready to die with fear, wishing himself at home; the giant approached the oven and put his hand into it; Jack thought his death was certain.
The giant at last gave up the search and ate a hearty supper. When he had finished, he commanded his wife to fetch down his harp. Jack peeped as hehad done before, and saw the most beautiful harp that could be imagined; it was placed by the giant on the table, who said, "Play!" and it instantly played of its own accord without being touched. The music was very fine; Jack was delighted, and felt more anxious to get the harp into his possession than either of the former treasures.
The music soon lulled the giant into a sound sleep. This, therefore, was the time to carry off the harp. As the giant appeared to be in a more profound sleep than usual, Jack soon determined, got out of the oven, and seized the harp. The harp had also been stolen by the giant from the fairy.
The giant suddenly awoke and tried to pursue him; but he had drank so much that he could hardly stand. Jack ran as fast as he could; in a little time the giant recovered sufficiently to walk slowly, or rather to reel after him. Had he been sober, he must have overtaken Jack instantly; but, as he then was, Jack contrived to be first at the top of the bean-stalk. The giant called after him in a voice like thunder, and sometimes was very near him.
The moment Jack got down the bean-stalk, he ran for a hatchet. Just at that instant the giant was beginning to descend, but Jack with his hatchet cut the bean-stalk close off at the root, which made the giant fall headlong into the garden, and the fall killed him.
At this instant the fairy appeared; she charged Jack to be dutiful to his mother, and to follow his father's good example, which was the only way to be happy. She then disappeared, after recovering her hen and her harp, which Jack gave to her most thankfully, having acquired great riches and revenged the tragical death of his father.
A great many years ago, there lived in the county of Norfolk a gentleman and his lady. The gentleman was brave, generous, and honourable; and the lady gentle, beautiful, and virtuous; they were beloved by all who knew them, and were blessed with two children, a boy and a girl. The boy was only about three years old, and the girl not quite two, when the gentleman was seized with a dangerous malady, and the lady, in attending her beloved husband, caught the contagion. Notwithstanding every medical assistance, their disorder daily increased; and, as they expected to be soon snatched away from their little babes, they sent for the gentleman's brother, and gave the darlings into his care.
"Ah! brother," said the dying man, "you see I have but a short time to live; yet neither death nor pain can pierce my heart with half so much anguish as what I feel at the thought of what these dear babes will do without a parent's care. Brother, they will have none but you to be kind to them, to see them clothed and fed, and to teach them to be good."
"Dear, dear brother," said the dying lady, "you must be father, mother, and uncle too, to these dear innocent lambs. First, let William be taught to read; and then he should be told how good his father was. And little Jane—Oh! brother, it wrings my heart to talk of her; think of the gentle usage she will need, and take her fondly on your knee, brother, and she and William too will pay your care with love."
"How it does grieve my heart to see you, my dear relatives, in this mournful condition," replied theuncle. "But be comforted, there may yet be hopes of your well-doing; but should we have the misfortune to lose you, I will do all you can desire for your darling children. In me they shall find father, mother, and uncle; but, dear brother, you have said nothing of your wealth."
"H-e-r-e, h-e-r-e, brother," replied he, "is my will, in which I have provided for my dear babes."
The gentleman and his lady then kissed their children, and a short time after they both died.
The uncle, after shedding a few tears, opened the will, in which he found that to William was bequeathed three hundred pounds a year when he became of age, and to little Jane five hundred pounds in gold on her marriage day. But if the children should chance to die before coming of age, then all their wealth was to be enjoyed by their uncle. The will of the unfortunate gentleman next desired that he and his beloved wife should be buried side by side in the same grave.
The two little innocents were now taken to the house of their uncle, who, for some time, recollecting what their parents said so sorrowfully upon their death-bed, behaved to them with great kindness. But when he had kept them about a twelvemonth, he by degrees forgot to think both how their parents looked when they gave their children to his care, and the promises he made to be their father, mother, and uncle, all in one.
After a little more time had passed, the uncle could not help thinking that he wished the little boy and girl would die, for he should then have all their wealth for himself; and when he had begun to think this, he went on till he could not think scarcely of anything else; and at last, says he to himself, "It will not be very difficultfor me to kill them, as nobody knows anything of the matter, and then their gold is mine."
When the barbarous uncle had once brought his mind to kill the helpless little creatures, he was not long in finding a way to execute his cruel purpose. He hired two sturdy ruffians, who had already killed many travellers in a dark, thick wood, at some distance, and then robbed them of their money. These two wicked creatures agreed, for a large reward, to do the blackest deed that ever yet was heard of; and the uncle began to prepare everything accordingly.
He told an artful story to his wife, of what good it would be to put the children forward in their learning; how he had a relation in London who would take the greatest care of them. He then said to the innocent children, "Should you not like, my pretty ones, to see the famous town of London, where you, William, can buy a fine wooden horse to ride upon all day long, and a whip to make him gallop, and a fine sword to wear by your side? And you, Jane, shall have pretty dolls and pretty pincushions, and a nice gilded coach shall be got to take you there."
"Oh yes, I will go, uncle," said William.
"Oh yes, I will go, uncle," said Jane.
And the uncle, with a heart of stone, soon got them ready for their journey.
The unsuspecting little creatures were a few days after put into a fine coach, and with them the two inhuman butchers, who were soon to end their joyful prattle, and turn their smiles to tears. One of them served as coachman, and the other sat between little William and little Jane.
When they had reached the entrance to the dark, thick wood, the two ruffians took them out of thecoach, telling them they might now walk a little way and gather flowers; and, while the children were skipping about like lambs, the ruffians turned their backs on them, and began to consult about what they had to do.
"In good truth," says the one who had been sitting all the way between the children, "now I have seen their cherub faces, and heard their pretty speech, I have no heart to do the bloody deed; let us fling away the ugly knife, and send the children back to their uncle."
"That I will not," says the other; "what boots their pretty speech to us? And who will pay us for being so chicken-hearted?"
At last the ruffians fell into so great a passion about butchering the innocent little creatures, that he who wished to spare their lives suddenly opened the great knife he had brought to kill them, and stabbed the other to the heart, so that he fell down dead.
The one who had killed him was now greatly at a loss what to do with the children, for he wanted to get away as fast as he could, for fear of being found in the wood. He was not, however, long in determining that he must leave them in the wood, to the chance of some traveller passing by. "Look ye, my pretty ones," said he, "you must each take hold and come along with me." The poor children each took a hand and went on, the tears bursting from their eyes, and their little limbs trembling with fear.
Thus did he lead them about two miles further on in the wood, and told them to wait there till he came back with some cakes.
William took his sister Jane by the hand, and they wandered fearfully up and down the wood.