Книга: English Fairy Tales / Английские сказки. Elementary
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The Princess and the Pea

Once upon a time there was a prince who wanted to marry a princess; but she would have to be a real princess. He travelled all over the world to find one, but nowhere could he get what he wanted. There were princesses enough, but it was difficult to find out whether they were real ones. There was always something about them that was not as it should be. So he came home again and was sad, for he would have liked very much to have a real princess.

One evening a terrible storm came on; there was thunder and lightning, and the rain poured down in torrents. Suddenly a knocking was heard at the city gate, and the old king went to open it.

It was a princess standing out there in front of the gate. But, good gracious! what a sight the rain and the wind had made her look. The water ran down from her hair and clothes; it ran down into the toes of her shoes and out again at the heels. And yet she said that she was a real princess.

Well, we’ll soon find that out, thought the old queen. But she said nothing, went into the bed-room, took all the bedding off the bedstead, and laid a pea on the bottom; then she took twenty mattresses and laid them on the pea, and then twenty eiderdown beds on top of the mattresses.

On this the princess had to lie all night. In the morning she was asked how she had slept.

‘Oh, very badly!’ said she. ‘I have scarcely closed my eyes all night. Heaven only knows what was in the bed, but I was lying on something hard, so that I am black and blue all over my body. It’s horrible!’

Now they knew that she was a real princess because she had felt the pea right through the twenty mattresses and the twenty eider-down beds.

Nobody but a real princess could be as sensitive as that.

So the prince took her for his wife, for now he knew that he had a real princess; and the pea was put in the museum, where it may still be seen, if no one has stolen it.

There, that is a true story.

The Lion and the Mouse

Once when a Lion was asleep a little Mouse began running up and down upon him; this soon wakened the Lion, who placed his huge paw upon him, and opened his big jaws to swallow him. ‘Pardon, my King,’ cried the little Mouse: ‘forgive me this time, I shall never forget it: who knows but what I may be able to do you a turn some of these days?’ The Lion was so tickled at the idea of the Mouse being able to help him, that he lifted up his paw and let him go.

Some time after the Lion was caught in a trap, and the hunters who desired to carry him alive to the King, tied him to a tree while they went in search of a wagon to carry him on. Just then the little Mouse happened to pass by, and seeing the sad plight in which the Lion was, went up to him and soon gnawed away the ropes that bound the King of the Beasts. ‘Was I not right?’ said the little Mouse.

The Small Red Feather

There once lived a man with his wife. They were very poor and always hungry. The man often went to the forest, but he was a bad hunter and sometimes brought home only a small bird.

One day he went to the forest again. But it was a very bad day for him: he did not find even a small bird. He was tired and sad. He sat down to rest under a tree. Then he heard a sweet song of a bird.

He looked up and saw a very small bird whose feathers were red. The bird said, ‘I see that you are poor and hungry. I want to help you. I’ll give you one of my feathers. Take it home and cook it. You will have a good dinner. Come back tomorrow, and I’ll give you another feather.’

He thanked the bird and went home. He put the feather into a pot and told everything to his wife.

‘Silly, how can the feather become food?’ You must catch the bird and kill it. Then we can cook the bird and eat it.’

He did not answer, but looked into the pot and saw there a good dinner.

Every day he went to the forest, and every day the small bird gave him a red feather that made a dinner for the man and his wife.

But his wife was very greedy. Every day she said to the man, ‘We must not have only the little red feather. We must have the bird. Then we can cook two, three or four feathers every day and we shall have as much food as we like.’

‘But the little bird is my friend. I shall not kill it.’ One day the woman followed her husband into the forest, but he did not see her. The woman heard the sweet song of the little red bird. She took a stone and killed it. The bird fell down off the tree. The man was very sad, but the wife said, ‘Now we shall have much food every day.’

They went home. At home the woman pulled one red feather off the bird and put it into the hot water. She cooked and cooked it, but the feather was just a feather. And from that day on they were again always hungry.

Mr Fox

Lady Mary was young, and Lady Mary was beautiful. She had two brothers, and more admirers than she could count.

But of them all, the bravest and most gallant was a Mr Fox, whom she met when she was down at her father’s country house. No one knew who Mr Fox was; but he was certainty brave, and surely rich, and of all her lovers Lady Mary cared for him alone.

At last it was agreed upon between them that they should be married. Lady Mary asked Mr Fox where they should live, and he described to her his castle, and where it was; but, strange to say, did not ask her or her brothers to come and see it.

So one day, near the wedding day, when her brothers were out, and Mr Fox was away for a day or two on business, as he said, Lady Mary set out for Mr Fox’s castle.

And after many searchings, she came at last to it, and a fine strong house it was, with high walls and a deep moat.

And when she came up to the gateway she saw written on it:

Be bold, be bold.

But as the gate was open, she went through it, and found no one there.

So she went up to the doorway, and over it she found written:

Be bold, be bold, but not too bold.

Still she went on, till she came into the hall, and went up the broad stairs till she came to a door in the gallery, over which was written:

Be bold, be bold, but not too bold,

Lest that your heart’s blood should run cold.

But Lady Mary was a brave one, she was, and she opened the door, and what do you think she saw?

She saw skeletons of beautiful young ladies all stained with blood.

So Lady Mary thought it was high time to get out of that horrid place, and she closed the door, went through the gallery, and was just going down the stairs, and out of the hall, when who should she see through the window but Mr Fox dragging a beautiful young lady along from the gateway to the door.

Lady Mary rushed downstairs, and hid herself behind a cask, just in time, as Mr Fox came in with the poor young lady, who seemed to have fainted.

Just as he got near Lady Mary, Mr Fox saw a diamond ring glittering on the finger of the young lady he was dragging, and he tried to pull it off.

But it was tightly fixed, and would not come off, so Mr Fox drew his sword, raised it, and brought it down upon the hand of the poor lady.

The sword cut off the hand, which jumped up into the air, and fell of all places in the world into Lady Mary’s hands.

Mr Fox looked about a bit, but did not think of looking behind the cask, so at last he went on dragging the young lady up the stairs.

As soon as she heard him pass through the gallery, Lady Mary crept out of the door, down through the gateway, and ran home as fast as she could.

Now it happened that the very next day the marriage contract of Lady Mary and Mr Fox was to be signed, and there was a splendid breakfast before that.

And when Mr Fox was seated at table opposite Lady Mary, he looked at her.

‘How pale you are this morning, my dear.’

‘Yes,’ said she, ‘I had a bad night’s rest last night. I had horrible dreams.’

Dreams go by contraries,’ said Mr Fox; ‘but tell us your dream, and your sweet voice will make the time pass till the happy hour comes.’

‘I dreamed,’ said Lady Mary, ‘that I went to your castle, and I found it in the woods, with high walls, and a deep moat, and over the gateway was written:

Be bold, be bold.’

‘But it is not so, nor it was not so,’ said Mr Fox.

‘And when I came to the doorway, over it was written:

Be bold, be bold, but not too bold.’

‘It is not so, nor it was not so,’ said Mr Fox.

‘And then I went upstairs, and came to a gallery, at the end of which was a door, on which was written:

‘Be bold, be bold, but not too bold,

Lest that your heart’s blood should run cold.’

‘It is not so, nor it was not so,’ said Mr Fox.

‘And then – and then I opened the door, and the room was filled with skeletons of poor dead women!’

‘It is not so, nor it was not so. And God forbid it should be so,’ said Mr Fox.

‘I then dreamed that I rushed down the gallery, and just as I was going down the stairs I saw you, Mr Fox, coming up to the hall door, dragging after you a poor young lady, rich and beautiful.’

‘It is not so, nor it was not so. And God forbid it should be so,’ said Mr Fox.

‘I rushed downstairs, just in time to hide myself behind a cask, when you, Mr Fox, came in dragging the young lady by the arm.

And, as you passed me, Mr Fox, I thought I saw you try and get off her diamond ring, and when you could not, Mr Fox, it seemed to me in my dream, that you out with your sword and hacked off the poor lady’s hand to get the ring.’

‘It is not so, nor it was not so. And God forbid it should be so,’ said Mr Fox, and was going to say something else as he rose from his seat, when Lady Mary cried out:

‘But it is so, and it was so. Here’s hand and ring I have to show,’ and pulled out the lady’s hand from her dress, and pointed it straight at Mr Fox.

At once her brothers and her friends drew their swords and cut Mr Fox into a thousand pieces.

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