Classic Fairy Tales of Charles Perrault
Page 6
“Oh!” cried his wife, “And how can you have the heart to take your children out with you with the intention of losing them?”
In vain did her husband drive home to her their extreme poverty – she would not agree to it. She was poor, but she was their mother. However, having considered how dreadful it would be to see them die from hunger, she consented at last and went to bed in tears.
Tom Thumb had heard every word that was spoken. Observing, as he lay in bed, that they were talking a great deal, he got up quietly and hid himself under his father’s stool, so that he could hear what was being said without being seen. He went to bed again, but did not sleep a wink for the rest of the night, thinking about what he should do. He got up early in the morning and went to the river, where he filled his pockets full of small white pebbles and then returned home.
The family went out later that morning, but Tom Thumb didn’t tell his brothers a word of what he knew. They went into a very thick forest, where they could not see one another from 10 paces away. The woodcutter began to cut wood, and the children to gather up sticks to make bundles. Their father and mother, seeing the children busy at their work, moved away from them by degrees, and then ran away from them along a byway, through the winding bushes.
When the children saw that they had been left alone, they began to cry as loudly as they could. Tom Thumb let them cry, because he knew very well how to get home again. As he came he had dropped all along the way the little white pebbles he had in his pockets. Then he said to them, “Don’t be afraid, brothers, father and mother have left us here, but I will lead you home again if you follow me.
They followed him, and he brought them home by the very same way they had come into the forest. They did not dare go inside, but sat down beside the door of the house, listening to what their father and mother were saying.
“HE BROUGHT THEM HOME BY THE VERY SAME WAY THEY CAME”
The very moment that the woodcutter and his wife had got home, the lord of the manor sent them 10 crowns that he had owed them for a long time, which they never expected to receive. This gave them new life, for they were almost starving. The woodcutter sent his wife at once to the butcher, and as it was a long time since they had eaten anything, she bought three times as much meat as would feed two people. When they had eaten their fill the woman said,
“Alas! Where are our poor children now? They would make a good meal of what we have left here. But then it was you, William, who wanted to lose them. I told you we would regret it. What are they doing now in the forest? Alas! Dear God, the wolves have perhaps already eaten them up. You are very inhuman to have lost your children.”
In the end the woodcutter lost patience with her, for she had said more than 20 times that they would repent of what they had done, and she had been right. He threatened to beat her if she did not hold her tongue. It was not that the woodcutter was not, perhaps, even more upset than his wife, but that she nagged him, and he was like a great many other men who love wives who speak the truth, but are irritated by those who are always in the right. The poor woman was half drowned in tears, crying out,
“Alas! Where are my children now, my poor children?”
She said this so loudly that the children at the door began to call out, all at the same time, “Here we are, here we are!”
She ran at once to open the door and said, hugging them,
“I am so glad to see you, my dear children – you are very hungry and tired. And my poor Peter, you are dreadfully dirty; come in and let me clean you.”
Now, Peter was her eldest son, whom she loved more than the others, because he had red hair, just like her own.
The children sat down to supper and ate so hungrily that their mother and father were pleased. All speaking at the same time, the boys told their parents how frightened they had been in the forest.
The good people were extremely happy to have their children at home again, and their joy continued as long as the 10 crowns lasted. When the money had gone their former anxiety returned and they decided to lose the children again, and to carry them further away so that they would be more likely to succeed. Even though they tried to keep it secret, they were once again overheard by Tom Thumb, who thought that he would get out of this difficulty in the same way that he had before. However, although he got up early the next morning to go out to collect some little pebbles, he was disappointed, for the door of the house was double locked, and he was at a loss as to what to do. When their father gave each of the children a piece of bread for breakfast, he thought he might make use of this instead of the pebbles by throwing little pieces all along the way they would travel through the forest, and so he put it into his pocket.
Their father and mother brought the children into the thickest and darkest part of the forest and, stealing away along a side path, they left them there. Tom Thumb was not very worried about this, for he thought that he could easily find the way home again by means of the bread that he had scattered along the way that they had travelled. But he was very surprised when he couldn’t find even a crumb, for the birds had come and eaten it all. The children were now in a dreadful state – the further they went, the more out of their way they were, and they became more and more bewildered.
Night fell and a very high wind rose, which made them dreadfully afraid. They thought they heard all around them the howling of wolves that had come to eat them up. They were afraid to speak or look around them. After this it rained very hard, which wet them through. Their feet slipped at every step they took, they fell in the mud and got themselves filthy, and their hands were cut and bruised.
Tom Thumb climbed to the top of a tree to see if he could discover where they were. Looking around in all directions he finally saw a glimmering light, like the light of a candle, a long way from the forest. He came down from the tree, but when he was on the ground he was upset to find that he could no longer see the light. However, he and his brothers walked for some time in the direction of the light, and he saw it again as they came out of the wood.
The children came at last to the house where this candle was, feeling very afraid. Every time they had walked into a hollow they had lost sight of the candle. They knocked on the door of the house and a woman opened it. She asked them what she could do for them.
Tom Thumb told her that they were poor children who had been lost in the forest, and wanted to sleep at the house. The woman began to cry when she saw what beautiful children they were.
“Alas, poor children! Where have you come from? Don’t you know that this house belongs to a cruel ogre, who eats up little children?”
“Oh!” cried Tom Thumb (who was trembling all over, as were his brothers), “What will we do? The wolves in the forest will devour us tonight, if you don’t let us stay here, so we would prefer to be eaten by the gentleman. Perhaps he will take pity on us, especially if you make the request.”
The ogre’s wife, who thought she could hide the children from her husband until morning, let them come in and warm themselves at the blazing fire, where a whole sheep was roasting on the spit for the ogre’s supper.
As they began to warm up a little, the children heard three or four huge raps on the door. This was the ogre, who had come home. At this, the ogre’s wife hid them under the bed and went to open the door. The ogre asked if his supper was ready and the wine decanted, then he sat down at the table. The sheep that had been cooking on the spit was still raw and bloody, but he liked it better that way. He sniffed about to the right and the left, saying, “I smell fresh meat.”
“What you smell,” said his wife, “must be the calf that I have just now killed and skinned.”
“I smell fresh meat, I tell you,” replied the ogre, looking crossly at his wife, “and there is something here that I do not understand.”
As he said this, he got up from the table and went straight over to the bed under which the children were hiding.
“Ah!” he said, “I see how you want to cheat me, you cursed woman. I don
’t know why I don’t eat you up too, but it’s just as well for you that you’re a tough old bird. Here is good game, which has arrived by chance just in time to entertain three ogres of my acquaintance, who will be paying me a visit in a day or two.”
With that, the ogre dragged the children from under the bed one by one. The poor children fell on their knees and begged him to spare them, but they were dealing with one of the cruellest ogres in the world who, far from taking pity on them, had already devoured them with his eyes. He told his wife they would be a delicacy when served with a good sauce. He then picked up a huge knife and, coming up to the poor children, sharpened it on a big whetstone, which he held in his left hand. He had already taken hold of one of the children when his wife said to him,
“Why do you need to do it now? It will be time enough tomorrow.”
“Hold your tongue,” said the ogre, “they will be more tender if I kill them now.”
“But you have so much meat already,” replied his wife, “you have no need of these children. Here is a calf, two sheep and half a pig.”
“That is true,” said the ogre, “feed them up so they don’t fade away, and put them to bed.”
The good woman was overjoyed to hear this, and gave the children a good supper, but they were so afraid that they couldn’t eat anything. As for the ogre, he sat down again to drink, delighted that he would be able to treat his friends to a good meal. He drank a dozen glasses more than usual, which went to his head and he had to go to bed.
The ogre had seven daughters, all little children. They all had very fine complexions because, like their father, they were used to eating fresh meat. However, they had little round grey eyes, hooked noses, wide mouths and very long teeth set at a good distance one from the other. They were not too mischievous yet, but they had great promise, for they already bit little children in order to suck their blood. They had been put to bed early, all in the same big bed together, each one with a golden crown on her head. In the same chamber there was another bed the same size, and it was into this bed that the ogre’s wife put the seven little boys, after which she went to bed with her husband.
Tom Thumb had seen that the ogre’s daughters had golden crowns on their heads. He was afraid that the ogre might regret not having killed them and he got up at about midnight. Taking his brother’s caps and his own, he very gently put them on the heads of the seven little ogresses, having removed their golden crowns. He put the crowns on his own head and his brothers’ heads, so that the ogre might mistake them for his daughters, and his daughters for the little boys he wanted to kill. All this went according to his plan, for the ogre woke at about midnight and, regretting that he had put off until morning what he could have done the night before, threw himself out of bed and picked up his big knife.
“Let us see,” he said, “how our little rogues are, and get on with the job.”
He groped his way up to his daughters’ chamber, and came to the bed where the little boys lay. All of them were fast asleep, except Tom Thumb, who was dreadfully afraid when he felt the ogre fumbling around his head, as he had done around his brothers’ heads. The ogre, feeling the golden crowns said,
“I could have made a big mistake – I think I drank too much last night.”
Then he went to the bed where the girls lay and found the little boys’ caps.
“Hah!” he said, “My fine boys, are you there? Let’s get to work!”
And, without more ado, he cut the throats of all his seven daughters.
Well pleased with himself he went to bed again beside his wife. As soon as Tom Thumb heard the ogre snoring, he woke his brothers and told them to get dressed and follow him. They crept down softly into the garden and climbed over the wall. They kept running all night, shaking, with no idea where they were going.
When the ogre woke up, he said to his wife, “Go upstairs and dress those young rascals who came here last night.”
The ogress was very surprised by her husband’s goodness, not dreaming how he intended her to dress them, but believing that he had ordered her to go up and get them into their clothes. She went up and was horrified to find her seven daughters dead, soaked in their own blood. She fainted, which is the first thing almost all women do in these situations. The ogre, concerned that his wife was taking too long to do what he had ordered, went up to help her. He was no less amazed than his wife at the dreadful sight.
“Oh! What have I done?” he cried. “The cursed wretches will pay for this, and at once!”
He then threw a pitcher of water over his wife’s face, and as soon as she came to he cried, “Give me my seven-league boots, so that I can go and catch them!”
He went out, and having quickly covered a great deal of ground, he came at last to the very road where the poor children were, no more than 100 paces from their father’s house. They spotted the ogre, who went with one step from mountain to mountain, and over rivers as easily as the smallest streams. Tom Thumb, seeing a hollow rock nearby, made his brothers hide themselves in it, and then squeezed himself into it, thinking about what would happen to the ogre.
The ogre, who was feeling very tired after his long and fruitless journey (for these seven-league boots are very tiring for the wearer), decided to take a rest. By chance, he sat down on the rock where the little boys had hidden themselves. He was worn out and he fell asleep. After resting for a little while he began to snore so dreadfully that the children were just as afraid of him as when he had held up his big knife and was about to cut their throats. Tom Thumb, who was not as frightened as his brothers, told them that they should run straight home while the ogre was so soundly asleep. They took his advice and had soon reached their home. Tom Thumb came up to the ogre, gently pulled off his boots and put them on his own feet. The boots were very long and large, but because they were enchanted, they had the gift of becoming big and little, depending on the legs of those who wore them, so they fitted his feet and legs as well as if they had been made for him.
Tom Thumb went immediately to the ogre’s house, where he found the ogress weeping bitterly for her murdered daughters.
“Your husband,” said Tom Thumb, “is in very great danger, having been captured by a gang of thieves, who have sworn to kill him if he does not give them all his gold and silver. Just as they held their daggers at his throat he saw me and asked me to come and tell you about his predicament, and said that you should give me everything valuable that he owns, without holding back anything, for otherwise they will kill him without mercy. As his situation is very dangerous he asked me to use his boots (you see that I am wearing them), so that I could get here faster.”
The good woman was very frightened and gave him everything she had, for this ogre was a very good husband, even though he used to eat up little children. Tom Thumb, having got all the ogre’s money, came home to his father’s house, where he was received with great joy.
There are many people who do not agree with this version of the story and pretend that Tom Thumb didn’t rob the ogre, and that he only thought that he might with a clear conscience take off the ogre’s seven-league boots, because he only ever used them to run after little children. These people are very sure of this, because they have often eaten and drunk at the woodcutter’s house. They say that when Tom Thumb had taken off the ogre’s boots, he went to the palace, where they were very anxious about the army, which was 200 leagues away, and the success of a battle in which it was engaged. They say that he went to the king and told him that he would, if he so wished, bring him news of the army before nightfall. Tom Thumb was as good as his word and returned that very same night with the news. This first expedition made him famous and he was soon able to earn as much as he wanted.
The king paid him well for carrying his orders to the army, many ladies gave him whatever he asked to bring them news from their lovers, and he made a lot of money doing this. There were some married women, too, who sent letters with him to their husbands, but they paid him so little that it wasn’t wort
h his while, and made him so little money that he didn’t take account of it at all. Having carried on the business of messenger for some time, and having become very wealthy, Tom Thumb went home to his family, who found it impossible to express their joy at his return. He made the whole family very well off, and bought homes for his father and brothers, setting them up very handsomely in the world. And, in the meantime, he rose high in the king’s favour.
THE MORAL
At many children parents don’t repine,
If they are handsome; in their judgement shine;
Polite in carriage are, in body strong,
Graceful in mien, and elegant in tongue.
But if perchance an offspring should prove but weak,
Him they revile, laugh at, defraud and cheat.
Such is the wretched world’s curs’d way; and yet
Sometimes this urchin whom despis’d we see,
Through unforeseen events doth honour get,
And fortune bring to all his family.
THE RIDICULOUS WISHES
Along time ago there lived a poor woodcutter, who found life very hard. Indeed, he had to work for very little reward, and although he was young and happily married there were moments when he wished he were dead and buried.
One day while he was working he was once again bemoaning his fate.
“Some men,” he said, “have only to say what they want, and they get it immediately, their every wish fulfilled. But it has done me no good to wish for anything, for the gods are deaf to my prayers.”
As he said this, there was a huge thunderclap, and Jupiter appeared before him, wielding his mighty thunderbolts. The poor man was overcome with fear and threw himself on the ground.
“My lord,” he said, “do not listen to what I said; do not pay any attention to my wishes, but please stop thundering!”