50 Fairy Stories

by Belinda Gallagher

  “What were you doing yesterday that you didn’t finish your task?” asked her mother reprovingly.

  “Pardon, mother – I danced a little too long,” said Betty humbly, and, showing her mother the spindle, added: “Today it is more than full to make up for it.” Her mother said no more, but went to milk the goats, and Betty put the spindle away. She wished to tell her mother of her adventure, but bethought herself again, ‘No, not unless she comes again, and then I will ask her what kind of person she is, and will tell my mother.’

  The third morning, as usual, she drove the goats to the birch wood. The goats began to pasture. Betty sat under the tree, and began to sing and spin. The sun indicated midday. Betty laid her spindle on the grass, gave each of the goats a morsel of bread, collected strawberries, ate her dinner, and while giving the crumbs to the birds, said:

  “My little goats, I will dance to you today!” She jumped up, folded her hands, and was just going to see if she could manage to dance as prettily as the beautiful maiden, when all at once she herself stood before her.

  “Let’s go together, together!” said she to Betty, seized her round the waist, and at the same moment the music struck up over their heads, and the maidens circled round with flying step. Betty forgot her spindle and her goats, saw nothing but the beautiful maiden, whose body bent in every direction like a willow-wand, and thought of nothing but the delightful music, in tune with which her feet bounded of their own accord. They danced from midday till evening. Then the maiden stopped, and the music ceased.

  Betty looked round. The sun was behind the wood. With tears she clasped her hands on the top of her head, and turning in search of the half-empty spindle, lamented about what her mother would say to her.

  “Give me your basket,” said the beautiful maiden. “I will make up to you for what you have left undone today.”

  Betty handed her the basket, and the maiden disappeared for a moment, and afterwards handed Betty the basket again, saying, “Not now – look at it at home,” and was gone, as if the wind had blown her away.

  Betty was afraid to peep into the basket immediately, but halfway home she couldn’t restrain herself. The basket was as light as if there was just nothing in it. She couldn’t help looking to see whether the maiden hadn’t tricked her. And how frightened she was when she saw that the basket was full – of birch leaves! In anger she threw out two handfuls of leaves, and was going to shake the basket out, but then she bethought herself, ‘I will use them as litter for the goats,’ and left some leaves in the basket. She was almost afraid to go home.

  Her mother was waiting for her on the threshold, full of anxiety. “For heaven’s sake, girl! What sort of spool did you bring me home yesterday?” were her first words.

  “Why?” asked Betty anxiously.

  “When you went out in the morning, I went to reel. I reeled and reeled, and the spool still remained full. One skein, two, three skeins, the spool still full.

  “‘What evil spirit has spun it?, said I in a temper, and that instant the yarn vanished from the spindle, as if it were spirited away. Tell me what the meaning of this is!”

  Then Betty confessed, and began to tell about the beautiful maiden.

  “That was a wood-fairy!” cried her mother in astonishment. “About midday and midnight the wood-ladies hold their dances. Lucky that you are not a boy, or you wouldn’t have come out of her arms alive. She would have danced with you as long as there was breath in your body, or have tickled you to death. But they have compassion on girls, and often give them rich presents. It’s a pity that you didn’t tell me. If I hadn’t spoken in a temper, I might have had a room full of yarn.”

  Then Betty bethought herself of the basket, and it occurred to her that perhaps, after all, there might have been something under those leaves. She took out the spindle and unspun flax from the top, and looked once more, and, “See, mother!” she cried out. Her mother looked and clapped her hands. The birch leaves were turned into gold!

  “She ordered me: ‘Don’t look now, but at home!, but I did not obey.”

  “Lucky that you didn’t empty out the whole basket,”said her mother. The next morning she went herself to look at the place where Betty had thrown out the two handfuls of leaves, but on the road there lay nothing but fresh birch leaves. But the riches that Betty had brought home were large enough. Her mother bought a small estate, and they had many cattle. Betty had handsome clothes, and was not obliged to pasture goats. But whatever she had, however cheerful and happy she was, nothing ever gave her so great delight as the dance with the wood-lady. She often went to the birch wood. She hoped for the good fortune of seeing the beautiful maiden – but she never set eyes on her again.

  The Counterpane Fairy

  By Katharine Pyle

  READING TIME: 15 MINUTES

  Teddy was all alone, for his mother had been up with him so much the night before that at four o’clock in the afternoon she said that she was going to lie down.

  She set a glass of milk on the table beside his bed, and left the door ajar so that he could call Hannah, the cook, if he wanted anything, and then she had gone to her room.

  The little boy had always enjoyed being ill, for then he was read aloud to and had lemonade, but this had been a real illness, and though he was better now, the doctor still would not let him have anything but milk and gruel. He was feeling rather lonely, too, though the fire crackled cheerfully, and he could hear Hannah singing to herself in the kitchen below.

  He lay staring out of the window at the grey clouds sweeping across the April sky. He grew lonelier and lonelier and a lump rose in his throat. A big tear trickled down his cheek and dripped off his chin.

  “Oh dear, oh dear!” said a little voice just back of the hill his knees made as he lay with them drawn up in bed, “What a hill to climb!”

  Teddy stopped crying and gazed wonderingly at where the voice came from, and over the top of his knees appeared a brown peaked hood, a tiny withered face, a brown cloak, and last of all two small feet in buckled shoes. It was a little old woman, so weazened and brown that she looked more like a dried leaf than anything else.

  She seated herself on Teddy’s knees and gazed at him solemnly, and she was so light that he felt her weight no more than if she had been a feather.

  Teddy lay staring at her for a while, and then he asked, “Who are you?”

  “I’m the Counterpane Fairy,” said the little figure, in a thin little voice. “I came to you, because you were lonely and sick, and I thought maybe you would like me to show you a story.”

  “Do you mean tell me a story?” asked Teddy.

  “No,” said the fairy, “I mean show you a story. It’s a game I invented after I joined the Counterpane Fairies. Choose any one of the squares of the counterpane and I will show you how to play it. That’s all you have to do – choose a square.”

  Teddy looked the counterpane over carefully. “I think I’ll choose that yellow square,” he said, “because it looks so nice and bright.”

  “Very well,” said the Counterpane Fairy. “Look straight at it and don’t turn your eyes away until I count seven times seven and then you shall see the story of it.”

  Teddy fixed his eyes on the square and the fairy began to count. “One – two – three – four,” she counted, Teddy heard her voice, thin and clear as the hissing of the logs on the hearth. “Don’t look away from the square,” she cried. “Five – six – seven,” it seemed to Teddy that the yellow silk square was turning to a mist before his eyes and wrapping everything about him in a golden glow. “Thirteen – fourteen,” the fairy counted on and on. “Forty-six – forty-seven – forty-eight – forty-nine!”

  At the words ‘forty-nine’, the Counterpane Fairy clapped her hands and Teddy looked about him. He was no longer in a golden mist. He was standing in a wonderful enchanted garden. The sky was like the golden sky at sunset, and the grass was so thickly set with tiny yellow flowers that it looked like a golden carpet. From this garde
n stretched a long flight of glass steps. They reached up and up and up to a great golden castle with shining domes and turrets.

  “Listen!” said the Counterpane Fairy. “In that golden castle there lies an enchanted princess. For more than a hundred years she has been lying there waiting for the hero who is to come and rescue her, and you are the hero who can do it if you will.”

  With that the fairy led him to a little pool close by, and bade him look in the water. When Teddy looked, he saw himself standing there in the golden garden, and he did not appear as he ever had before. He was tall and strong and beautiful, like a hero.

  “Yes,” said Teddy, “I will do it.”

  Without pausing longer, he ran to the glass steps and began to mount them.

  Up and up and up he went. Once he turned and waved his hand to the Counterpane Fairy in the golden garden below. She waved her hand, and he heard her voice faint and clear, “Goodbye! Goodbye! Be brave and strong, and beware of that that is little and grey.”

  Then Teddy turned his face toward the castle, and in a moment he was standing before the great shining gates.

  He raised his hand and struck bravely upon the door. There was no answer. Again he struck upon it, and his blow rang through the hall inside. Then he opened the door and went in.

  The hall was five-sided, and all of pure gold, as clear and shining as glass. Upon three sides of it were three arched doors – one was of emerald, one was of ruby, and one was of diamond. They were arched, and tall, and wide – fit for a hero to go through. The question was, behind which one lay the enchanted princess?

  While Teddy stood there looking at them and wondering, he heard a little thin voice, that seemed to be singing to itself, and this is what it sang:

  “In and out and out and in,

  Quick as a flash I weave and spin.

  Some may mistake and some forget,

  But I’ll have my spider web finished yet.”

  When Teddy heard the song, he knew that someone must be awake in the enchanted castle, so he began looking about him.

  On the fourth side of the wall there hung a curtain of silvery-grey spider web, and the voice seemed to come from it. The hero went toward it, but he saw nothing, for the spider that was spinning it moved so fast that no eyes could follow it. Presently it paused up in the corner of the web, and then Teddy saw it. It looked very little to have spun all that curtain of silvery web.

  “Mistress Spinner! Mistress Spinner!” cried Teddy. “Can you tell me where to find the enchanted princess who lies asleep waiting for me to rescue her?”

  The spider sat quite still for a while, and then it said in a voice as thin as a hair: “You must go through the emerald door, you must go through the emerald door. What so fit as the emerald door for the hero who would do great deeds?”

  Teddy did not so much as stay to thank the little grey spinner, he was in such a hurry to find the princess, but turning he sprang to the emerald door, flung it open, and stepped outside.

  He found himself standing on the glass steps, and as his foot touched the topmost one the whole flight closed up like an umbrella, and in a moment Teddy was sliding down the smooth glass pane, faster and faster and faster until he could hardly catch his breath.

  The next thing he knew he was standing in the golden garden, and there was the Counterpane Fairy beside him looking at him sadly. “You should have known better than to try the emerald door,” she said, “and now shall we break the story?”

  “Oh, no, no!” cried Teddy, and he was still the hero. “Let me try once more, for it may be I can yet save the princess.”

  Then the Counterpane Fairy smiled. “Very well,” she said, “you shall try again. But remember what I told you: beware of that that is little and grey, and take this with you, for it may be of use.” Stooping, she picked up a blade of grass from the ground and handed it to him.

  The hero took it wondering, and in his hands it was changed to a sword that shone so brightly that it dazzled his eyes. Then he turned, and there was the long flight of glass steps leading up to the golden castle just as before, so thrusting the magic sword into his belt, he ran nimbly up and up and up, and not until he reached the very topmost step did he turn to wave farewell to the Counterpane Fairy below. She waved her hand to him. “Remember,” she called, “beware of what is little and grey.”

  He opened the door and went into the five-sided golden hall, and there were the three doors just as before, and the spider spinning and singing on the fourth side:

  “Now the brave hero is wiser indeed,

  He may have failed once, but he still may succeed.

  Dull are the emeralds, diamonds are bright,

  So is his wisdom that shines as the light.”

  “The diamond door!” cried Teddy. “Yes, that is the door that I should have tried. How could I have thought the emerald door was it?” and opening the diamond door he stepped through it.

  He hardly had time to see that he was standing at the top of the glass steps, before – brrrr! – they had shut up again into a smooth glass hill, and there he was spinning down them so fast that the wind whistled past his ears.

  In less time than it takes to tell, he was back again for the third time in the golden garden, with the Counterpane Fairy standing before him, and he was ashamed to raise his eyes.

  “So!” said the Counterpane Fairy. “Did you know no better than to open the diamond door?”

  “No,” said Teddy, “I knew no better.”

  “Then,” said the fairy, “if you can pay no better heed to my warnings than that, the princess must wait for another hero, for you are not the one.”

  “Let me try but once more,” cried Teddy, “for this time I shall surely find her.”

  “Then you may try once more and for the last time,” said the fairy, “but beware of what is little and grey.” Stooping she picked from the grass beside her a fallen acorn cup and handed it to him. “Take this with you,” she said, “for it may serve you well.”

  As he took it from her, it was changed in his hand to a goblet of gold set round with precious stones. Turning he ran for the third time up the flight of glass steps. All the time he ran he was wondering what she meant about her warning. She had said, ‘Beware of what is little and grey.’ What had he seen that was little and grey?

  As soon as he reached the great golden hall he walked over to the curtain of spider web. The spider was spinning so fast that it was little more than a grey streak, but presently it stopped up in the corner of the web. As the hero looked at it he saw that it was little and grey. Then it began to sing to him in its little thin voice:

  “Great hero, wiser than ever before,

  Try the red door, try the red door.

  Open the door that is ruby, and then

  You never need search for the princess again.”

  “No, I will not open the ruby door,” cried Teddy. “Twice have you sent me back to the golden garden, and now you shall fool me no more.”

  As he said this he saw that a corner of the web was unfinished, and underneath was something that looked like a little yellow door. Suddenly he knew that this was the door he must go through. He pulled at the curtain of web but it was as strong as steel. Quickly he snatched from his belt the magic sword, and with one blow the curtain was cut in two, and fell at his feet.

  He heard the spider calling but paid no heed, for he had opened the door and stooped his head and entered.

  Beyond was a great gold courtyard with a fountain splashing into a golden basin in the middle. But what he saw first was the princess, who lay stretched out as if asleep upon a couch all covered with cloth of gold.

  He knew she was a princess, because she was so beautiful and because she wore a golden crown.

  He stood looking at her without stirring, and at last he whispered, “Princess! Princess! I have come to save you.”

  Still she did not stir. He bent and touched her, but she lay there in her enchanted sleep, and her eyes did not open. Then T
eddy looked about him, and seeing the fountain he drew the magic cup from his bosom and, filling it, sprinkled the hands and face of the princess with the water.

  Then her eyes opened and she raised herself upon her elbow and smiled.

  “Have you come at last?” she cried.

  “Yes,” answered Teddy, “I have come.”

  The princess looked about her. “But what became of the spider?” she said. Then Teddy, too, looked about, and there was the spider running across the floor toward where the princess lay. Quickly he sprang from her side and set his foot upon it. There was a thin squeak and then – there was nothing left of the little grey spinner but a tiny grey smudge on the floor.

  Instantly the golden castle was shaken from top to bottom, and there was a sound of many voices shouting outside. The princess rose to her feet and caught the hero by the hand. “You have broken the enchantment,” she cried, “and now you shall be the king of the golden castle and reign with me.”

  “Oh, but I can’t,” said Teddy, “because, because—”

  But the princess drew him out with her through the hall, and there they were at the head of the flight of glass steps. A great host of soldiers and courtiers were running up it. They were dressed in cloth of gold, and they shouted at the sight of Teddy:

  “Hail to the hero! Hail to the hero!”

  “And all this is yours,” said the beautiful princess, turning toward him with—

  “So that is the story of the yellow square,” said the Counterpane Fairy.

  Teddy looked about him. The golden castle was gone, and the stairs, and the shouting courtiers. He was lying in bed with the silk coverlet over his little knees and Hannah was still singing in the kitchen below.

  “Did you like it?” asked the fairy.

  Teddy heaved a deep sigh. “Oh! Wasn’t it beautiful?” he said. Then he lay for a while thinking and smiling. “Wasn’t the princess lovely?” he whispered half to himself.

  The Counterpane Fairy got up slowly and stiffly, and picked up the staff that she had laid down beside her. “Well, I must be journeying on,” she said.