Monday, November 29, 2010

PUSS IN BOOTS

   Once upon a time . . . a miller died leaving the mill to his eldest son,
his donkey to his second son and . . . a cat to his youngest son.
   "Now that's some difference!" you might say; but there you are, that's how
the miller was!
   The eldest son kept the mill, the second son took the donkey and set off in
search of his fortune . . . while the third sat down on a stone and sighed,
   "A cat! What am I going to do with that?" But the cat heard his words and
said,
   "Don't worry, Master. What do you think? That I'm worth less than a
half-ruined mill or a mangy donkey? Give me a cloak, a hat with a feather in
it, a bag and a pair of boots, and you will see what I can do." The young man,
by no means surprised, for it was quite common for cats to talk in those days,
gave the cat what he asked for, and as he strode away, confident and cheerful.
the cat said. "Don't look so glum, Master. See you soon!"
   Swift of foot as he was, the cat caught a fat wild rabbit, popped it into
his bag, knocked at the castle gate, went before the King and, removing his
hat, with a sweeping bow, he said:
   "Sire, the famous Marquis of Carabas sends you this fine plump rabbit as a
gift."
   "Oh," said the King, "thanks so much."
   "Till tomorrow," replied the cat as he went out. And the next day, back he
came with some partridges tucked away in his bag. "Another gift from the brave
Marquis of Carabas," he announced. The Queen remarked,
   "This Marquis of Carabas is indeed a very courteous gentleman."
   In the days that followed, Puss in Boots regularly visited the castle,
carrying rabbits, hares, partridges and skylarks, presenting them all to the
King in the name of the Marquis of Carabas. Folk at the palace began to talk
about this noble gentleman.
   "He must be a great hunter," someone remarked. "He must be very loyal to
the King," said someone else. And yet another, "But who is he? I've never
heard of him." At this someone who wanted to show people how much he knew,
replied,
   "Oh, yes, I've heard his name before. In fact, I knew his father."
   The Queen was very interested in this generous man who sent these gifts.
"Is your master young and handsome?" she asked the cat.
   "Oh yes. And very rich, too," answered Puss in Boots. "In fact, he would be
very honoured if you and the King called to see him in his castle." When the
cat returned home and told his master that the King and Queen were going to
visit him, he was horrified.
   "Whatever shall we do?" he cried. "As soon as they see me they will know
how poor I am."
   "Leave everything to me," replied Puss in Boots. "I have a plan." For
several days, the crafty cat kept on taking gifts to the King and Queen, and
one day he discovered that they were taking the Princess on a carriage ride
that very afternoon.
   The cat hurried home in great excitement. "Master, come along," he cried.
"It is time to carry out my plan. You must go for a swim in the river."
   "But I can't swim," replied the young man.
   "That's all right," replied Puss in Boots. "Just trust me." So they went to
the river and when the King's carriage appeared the cat pushed his master into
the water.
   "Help!" cried the cat. "The Marquis of Carabas is drowning." The King heard
his cries and sent his escorts to the rescue. They arrived just in time to
save the poor man, who really was drowning. The King, the Queen and the
Princess fussed around and ordered new clothes to be brought for the Marquis
of Carabas.
   "Wouldn't you like to marry such a handsome man?" the Queen asked her
daughter.
   "Oh, yes," replied the Princess. However, the cat overheard one of the
ministers remark that they must find out how rich he was.
   "He is very rich indeed," said Puss in Boots. "He owns the castle and all
this land. Come and see for yourself. I will meet you at the castle."
   And with these words, the cat rushed off in the direction of the castle,
shouting at the peasants working in the fields, "If anyone asks you who your
master is, answer: the Marquis of Carabas. Otherwise you will all be sorry."
And so, when the King's carriage swept past, the peasants told the King that
their master was the Marquis of Carabas.
   In the meantime, Puss in Boots had arrived at the castle, the home of a
huge, cruel ogre. Before knocking at the gate, the cat said to himself, "I
must be very careful, or I'll never get out of here alive." When the door
opened, Puss in Boots removed his feather hat, exclaiming, "My Lord Ogre, my
respects!"
   "What do you want, cat?" asked the ogre rudely.
   "Sire, I've heard you possess great powers. That, for instance, you can
change into a lion or an elephant."
   "That's perfectly true," said the ogre, "and so what?"
   "Well," said the cat, "I was talking to certain friends of mine who said
that you can't turn into a tiny little creature, like a mouse."
   "Oh, so that's what they say, is it?" exclaimed the ogre. The cat nodded,
   "Well, Sire, that's my opinion too, because folk that can do big things
never can manage little ones."
   "Oh, yes? Well, just watch this!" retorted the ogre, turning into a mouse.
In a flash, the cat leapt on the mouse and ate it whole. Then he dashed to the
castle gate, just in time, for the King's carriage was drawing up. With a bow,
Puss in Boots said,
   "Sire, welcome to the castle of the Marquis of Carabas!" The King and
Queen, the Princess and the miller's son who, dressed in his princely clothes,
really did look like a marquis, got out of the carriage and the King spoke:
   "My dear Marquis, you're a fine, handsome, young man, you have a great deal
of land and a magnificent castle. Tell me, are you married?"
   "No," the young man answered, "but I would like to find a wife." He looked
at the Princess as he spoke. She in turn smiled at him.
   To cut a long story short, the miller's son, now Marquis of Carabas,
married the Princess and lived happily with her in the castle. And from time
to time, the cat would wink and whisper, "You see, Master, I am worth a lot
more than any mangy donkey or half-ruined mill, aren't I?"
.

THE RUBY PRINCE

   Once upon a time . . . a beggar in faraway Persia had a stroke of luck.
After a sudden flood, the fast-flowing river near the capital city shrank back
to its old bed, leaving mud and sllme behind it on the banks. In the dirt, the
beggar caught slght of a sparkling red stone. He picked it up and hurried off
to visit one of his friends who worked in the royal kitchens.
   "How many dinners would you give me for this shining stone?" he asked the
man hopefully.
   "But this is a ruby!" exclaimed the cook. "You must take it to the Shah at
once!" So next day, the beggar took the stone to the Shah, who asked him:
"Where did you find this?"
   "Lying in the mud on the bank of the river, Sire! he said.
   "Hmm!" mused the Shah. "Now why did the great river leave such a treasure
to you? I'll give you a bag of gold for the stone. Will that do?" The beggar
could scarcely belleve his ears.
   "Sire, this is the most wonderful day of my life," he stammered. "My
humblest thanks!"
   Before the Shah locked the big stone in his treasure box, he called Fatima,
his daughter and said: "This is the biggest ruby I've ever seen. I shall give
it to you for your 18th birthday!"
   Fatima admired the gem in her hand and happily threw her arms round her
father's neck.
   "It's marvellous! Thank you so much. I know it will bring me good luck!"
   Some months later, on Fatima's birthday, the Shah went to fetch the ruby as
promised. But when he lifted the lid of the box, he leapt in surprise, for out
stepped a handsome young man, who smilingly said, "The ruby you want no longer
exists! I've taken its place. I'm the Ruby Prince. Please don't ask me how
this miracle took place. It's a secret I can never tell!"
   When the Shah got over his shock, he went into a towering rage.
   "I lose a precious gem, find a prince, and l'm not allowed to ask the
reason why?" he roared.
   "I'm sorry, Sire," replied the prince, "but nothing and nobody will make me
tell how I got here."
   Furious at these words, the Shah instantly decided to punish the young man
for his impertinence.
   "Since you've taken the place of my ruby," he thundered, "you are now my
servant, I presume."
   "Of course, Sire," replied the young man confidently.
   "Good!" exclaimed the Shah. "Then take my gold sword. I'll reward you with
the hand of my daughter Fatima if you succeed in killing the dragon of Death
Valley that's stopping the caravans from passing through the forest."
   As it happens, many a brave young man had lost his life trying to kill the
terrible dragon, and the Shah was quite sure that the Ruby Prince would share
their fate.
   Armed with the Shah's sword, the Ruby Prince set off for Death Valley. When
he reached the edge of the thick dark forest, he loudly called for the dragon
to show itself. But the only reply was the echo of his own voice. He leant
against a tree trunk and was about to drop off to sleep when the sound of
snapping branches brought him to his feet. A frightful hissing grew louder and
louder and the earth trembled. The terrible dragon was on its way.
   Before him the huge horrible beast reared with open jaws. Unlike all the
other brave warriors who had gone before him, the prince stoutly stood his
ground; he took a step forward and struck first one heavy blow at the dragon's
throat, then another, till at last the monster lay dead at his feet.
   When he returned to the palace carrying the dragon s head, the Ruby Prince
was hailed as a hero. And so Fatima and the Ruby Prince were married and lived
happily together. However, as time passed, Fatima became more and more curious
about her husband's past.
   "I know nothing about you," she complained. "At least tell me who you
really are and where you once lived!"
   But every time the Ruby Prince heard such remarks, he went white and said,
"I can't tell you. You mustn't ask, or you'll run the risk of losing me for
ever!"
   But Fatima was tormented by the desire to know. One day, as they sat by the
river that flowed through the Shah's gardens, Fatima pleaded with him to
reveal his secret.
   White-faced, the young man replied, "I can't!"
   But Fatima only pleaded more: "Oh, please! Please tell me!"
   "You know I can't . . ."
   The Ruby Prince hesitated, gazing at his dearly loved wife and gently
stroking her hair. Then he made his decision.
   "I don't want to see you suffer like this. If you really must know, then
I'll tell you that I'm . . ."
   At the very second he was about to reveal his secret, a huge wave swept him
into the river and dragged him under the water.
   The horrified Princess rushed vainly along the bank, crying loudly for her
husband. But he had vanished. Fatima called the guards and even the Shah
himself ran up to comfort her. But the Princess became very depressed, for she
knew that her foollsh questioning had been the cause of the tragedy. One day,
her favourite handmaiden hurried up to her.
   "Your Highness!" she exclaimed. "I saw the most amazing thing last night. A
host of tiny lights appeared on the river, then a thousand little genies
draped the river bank with flowers. Such a handsome young man then began to dance in honour of an old man who seemed to be a king. And beside the king stood
a young man with a ruby on his forehead. I thought he was . . ."
   Fatima's heart leapt: could the young man with the ruby be her husband?
   That night, the Princess and her handmaiden went into the garden and hid
behind a tree close to the water's edge. On the stroke of midnight, tiny
lights began to twinkle on the river, then a stately old man with a white
beard, dressed in a golden robe and holding a sceptre, rose from the water.
   In the young man beside the throne, Fatima recognlzed her husband. Covering
her face with her vell, she left her hiding place and gracefully began to
dance. Wild applause greeted her at the end. Then from the throne came a
voice.
   "For such a divine dance, ask us whatever you wlsh for and it will be
granted!"
   Fatima tore the veil from her face and cried, "Give me back myhusband!"
   The old king rose to his feet. "The King of the Waters of Persia gave his
word. Take back your husband, the Ruby Prince. But do not forget how you lost
him and be wiser in future!"
   Then the waters opened once more and closed over the King and his Court,
leaving Fatima and the Ruby Prince on the bank, reunited and happy at last.
.

THE TIN SOLDIER

   Once upon a time . . . there lived a child who had a lot of toys. The child
kept his toys in his room and spent many happy hours everyday playing with
them. One of his favourite games was the battle with the tin soldiers. He
arranged the little toy soldiers in their respective ranks and fought
imaginary battles.
   When the boy received the soldiers, as a present, he noticed that one of
them had been made, by mistake, with just one leg. Despite the missing limb,
the boy placed the little mutilated soldier in the front lines, encouraging
him to be the most valorous of all the little soldiers. The child did not know
that, at night, the toys became animated and talked between themselves.
   It often happened that, when lining up the soldiers after playing with
them, the little boy would forget about the little tin soldier without a leg
and left him with all the other toys. It was thus that the little metal
soldier got to talk to a pretty tin ballerina.
   A great friendship was born between the two, and pretty soon the little
soldier fell in love with the ballerina. But the nights went by quickly, and
he did not find the courage to declare his love to her. When the child played
with the soldiers and positioned him in the front lines, the little soldier
hoped that the ballerina would notice his courage in battle. And in the
evening, when the ballerina asked the soldier if he had been afraid, he
proudly answered, "No."
   But the loving stares and sighs of the little soldier did not go unnoticed
by the jack-in-the-box. One night, the jackin-the-box said to the little
soldier: "Hey you! Don't look at the ballerina like that!" The poor little
soldier was confused and he blushed, but the kind ballerina cheered him up.
   "Don't listen to him, he is ugly and jealous. I am very happy to talk to
you," she said blushing too. The two little tin flgurines were both too shy to
speak of their love.
   One day they were separated. The boy picked up the tin soldier and placed
him on the window-sill.
   "You stay here and watch for the enemy," he said. Then the boy played
inside with the other soliders.
   It was summer and in the days that followed the soldier remained on the
window-sill. But one afternoon there was a sudden storm and a strong wind
shook the windows. The Iittle soldier fell head first off the window-sill. His
bayonet stuck into the ground. It kept raining and storming and pretty soon
the rain formed big puddles and the gutters were full. A group of boys in the
nearby school waited for the storm to end and when it stopped raining hard
they ran outdoors.
   Joking and laughing, the boys hopped over the bigger puddles while two of
them cautiously walked next to the wall so that the sprinkling rain wouldn't
wet them. These two boys noticed the little tin soldier stuck in the sodden
earth.
   "Too bad he has just one leg. Otherwise, I'd take him home with me," one of
the boys said. The other boy picked him up and put him in his pocket.
   "Let's take him anyway," he said. "We could use him for something." On the
other side of the street, the gutter was overflowing and the current carried a
little paper boat.
   "Let's put the little soldier in the boat and make him a sailor," said the
boy who had picked up the tin soldier.And so the little soldier became a
sailor.
   The whirling gutter flowed into a sewer and the little boat was carried
down the drain. The water in the underground sewage was deep and muddy. Big
rats gnashed their teeth as the vessel and its unusual passenger flowed by.
The boat was soaked and about to sink. But the little soldier, who had faced
far greater dangers in battle, was not afraid. The water of the sewer then
flowed into the river and the little boat, now overturned, was swept by the
high waves. The little tin soldier realized his end was near. After the paper
boat was wrecked, he sank in deep waters. A thousand thoughts went through the
little soldier's mind, but one in particular anguished him:
   "I will never see my sweet little ballerina again!" But a huge mouth
swallowed the little tin soldier and, once again, his destiny took an
unexpected turn.
   The little soldier found himself in the stomach of a large fish who had
been lured by the glittering colours of his uniform. The fish, however, did
not even have time to digest his meal because, shortly after having swallowed
the soldier, he was caught in the net of a fisherman. Shortly after, the
gasping fish ended up in a big basket and was brought to the market.
   Meanwhile, a cook was on her way to the market. She worked in the very same
house where the little soldier used to live.
   "This fish will be perfect for tonight's guests," the cook said when she
saw the big fish on the fish market's counter. The fish ended up in the
kitchen and when the cook slit its belly to clean it she found the little tin
soldier.
   "This looks like one of our boy's toy soldiers . . ." she thought, and ran
to the boy to show him her discovery.
   "That's right, it's my soldier!" the little boy cheered, when he recognized
the soldier with the missing leg.
   "I wonder how he got into the fish's belly? Poor soldier, he must have gone
through a lot of trouble since he fell off the window-sill!" The little boy
placed the soldier on the mantle, right next to his sister's ballerina.
   The amazing ways of destiny had once again reunited the two lovers. The
little soldier and the ballerina were very happy to be close to each other. At
night they talked about what had happened after their separation. But the ill
disposition of fate had another surprise in store for them.
   One day a sudden gust of wind lifted the heavy drape of the window and hit
the ballerina, who fell into the flreplace. The little soldier saw his friend
fall into the fireplace and he was frightened. He knew a fire was lit because
he could feel its warmth. He was desperate, conscious of not being able to do
anything to save the ballerina. In fact, fire is the greatest enemy of tin
figurines because it melts metals. Rocking back and forth on his one leg, the
little soldier tried to move the metal base under his feet that held him in
place.
   He kept trying to move until he fell into the fire as well. The two
figurines were reunited in their misfortune. They were so close to each other
now, that their metal bases began melting together. The tin of one base melted
with the metal of the other, and the metal strangely moulded into the shape of
a heart. As their bodies were about to begin melting as well, the little boy
went by the fireplace and saw the two little figurines enveloped by the flames
and moved them away from the blaze with his foot.
   Ever since then the soldier and the ballerina have been melted close to
each other, sharing their destiny and a common base shaped like a heart.
.

HANSEL AND GRETEL

   Once upon a time . . . a very poor woodcutter lived in a tiny cottage in
the forest with his two children, Hansel and Gretel. His second wife often
ill-treated the children and was forever nagging the woodcutter.
   "There is not enough food in the house for us all. There are too many
mouths to feed! We must get rid of the two brats," she declared. And she kept
on trying to persuade her husband to abandon his children in the forest.
   "Take them miles from home, so far that they can never find their way back!
Maybe someone will find them and give them a home." The downcast woodcutter
didn't know what to do. Hansel who, one evening, had overheard his parents'
conversation, comforted Gretel.                                 =--=
   "Don't worry! If they do leave us in the forest, we'll find the way home,"
he said. And slipping out of the house he filled his pockets with little white
pebbles, then went back to bed.
   All night long, the woodcutter's wife harped on and on at her husband till,
at dawn, he led Hansel and Gretel away into the forest. But as they went into
the depths of the trees, Hansel dropped a little white pebble here and there
on the mossy green ground. At a certain point, the two children found they
really were alone: the woodcutter had plucked up enough courage to desert
them, had mumbled an excuse and was gone.
   Night fell but the woodcutter did not return. Gretel began to sob bitterly.
Hansel too felt scared but he tried to hide his feelings and comfort his
sister.
   "Don't cry, trust me! I swear I'll take you home even if Father doesn t
come back for us!" Luckily the moon was full that night and Hansel waited till
its cold light filtered through the trees.
   "Now give me your hand!" he said. "We'll get home safely, you'll see!" The
tiny white pebbles gleamed in the moonlight, and the children found their
way home. They crept through a half-open window, without wakening their
parents. Cold, tired but thankful to be home again, they slipped into bed.
   Next day, when their stepmother discovered that Hansel and Gretel had
returned, she went into a rage. Stifling her anger in front of the children,
she locked her bedroom door, reproachlng her husband for failing to carry out
her orders. The weak woodcutter protested, torn as he was between shame and
fear of disobeying his cruel wife. The wicked stepmother kept Hansel and
Gretel under lock and key all day with nothing for supper but a sip of water
and some hard bread. All night, husband and wife quarrelled, and when dawn
came, the woodcutter led the children out into the forest.
   Hansel, however, had not eaten his bread, and as he walked through the
trees, he left a trail of crumbs behind him to mark the way. But the little
boy had forgotten about the hungry birds that lived in the forest. When they
saw him, they flew along behind and in no time at all, had eaten all the
crumbs. Again, with a lame excuse, the woodcutter left his two children by
themselves.
   "I've left a trail, like last time!" Hansel whispered to Gretel,
consolingly. But when night fell, they saw to their horror, that all the
crumbs had gone.
   "I'm frightened!" wept Gretel bitterly. "I'm cold and hungry and I want to
go home!"
   "Don't be afraid. I'm here to look after you!" Hansel tried to encourage
his sister, but he too shivered when he glimpsed frightening shadows and evil
eyes around them in the darkness. All night the two children huddled together
for warmth at the foot of a large tree.
   When dawn broke, they started to wander about the forest, seeking a path,
but all hope soon faded. They were well and truly lost. On they walked and
walked, till suddenly they came upon a strange cottaae in the middle of a
glade.
   "This is chocolate!" gasped Hansel as he broke a lump of plaster from the
wall.
   "And this is icing!" exclaimed Gretel, putting another piece of wall in her
mouth. Starving but delighted, the children began to eat pieces of candy
broken off the cottage.
   "Isn't this delicious?" said Gretel, with her mouth full. She had never
tasted anything so nice.
   "We'll stay here," Hansel declared, munching a bit of nougat. They were
just about to try a piece of the biscuit door when it quietly swung open.
   "Well, well!" said an old woman, peering out with a crafty look. "And
haven't you children a sweet tooth?"
   "Come in! Come in, you've nothing to fear!" went on the old woman.
Unluckily for Hansel and Gretel, however, the sugar candy cottage belonged to
an old witch, her trap for catching unwary victims. The two children had come
to a really nasty place . . .
   "You're nothing but skin and bones!" said the witch, locking Hansel into a
cage. I shall fatten you up and eat you!"
   "You can do the housework," she told Gretel grimly, "then I'll make a meal
of you too!" As luck would have it, the witch had very bad eyesight, an when
Gretel smeared butter on her glasses, she could see even less.
   "Let me feel your finger!" said the witch to Hansel every day to check if
he was getting any fatter. Now, Gretel had brought her brother a chicken bone,
and when the witch went to touch his finger, Hansel held out the bone.
   "You're still much too thin!" she complained. When will you become plump?"
One day the witch grew tired of waltlng.
   "Light the oven," she told Gretel. "We're going to have a tasty roasted boy
today!" A little later, hungry and impatient, she went on: "Run and see if the
oven is hot enough." Gretel returned, whimpering: "I can't tell if it is hot
enough or not." Angrily, the wltch screamed at the little girl: "Useless
child! All right, I'll see for myself." But when the witch bent down to peer
inside the oven and check the heat, Gretel gave her a tremendous push and
slammed the oven door shut. The witch had come to a fit and proper end. Gretel
ran to set her brother free and they made quite sure that the oven door was
tightly shut behind the witch. Indeed, just to be on the safe side, they
fastened it firmly with a large padlock. Then they stayed for several days to
eat some more of the house, till they discovered amongst the witch's
belongings, a huge chocolate egg. Inside lay a casket of gold coins.
   "The witch is now burnt to a cinder," said Hansel, "so we'll take this
treasure with us." They filled a large basket with food and set off into the
forest to search for the way home. This time, luck was with them, and on the
second day, they saw their father come out of the house towards them, weeping.
   "Your stepmother is dead. Come home with me now, my dear children!" The two
 children hugged the woodcutter.
   "Promise you'll never ever desert us again," said Gretel, throwing her arms
round her father's neck. Hansel opened the casket.
   "Look, Father! We're rich now . . . You'll never have to chop wood
again . . ."
   And they all lived happily together ever after.
.

SIX ABLE MEN

   Once upon a time there lived a young soldier named Martin who had enlisted
in the royal army to flght a war. The war was long but victorious and when the
King abandoned the enemy's territory and returned with his troops to the
homeland, he left Martin to guard the only bridge on the river that separated
the two nations.
   "Stay on watch on the bridge," the King ordered. "Don't let any enemy
soldier go by." Days and then months passed, and the soldier kept his watch on
the bridge. He survived by asking the passers-by for food and, after two
years, thought that the authorities had probably forgotten him. He then headed
towards the capital, where he would ask the King for all his back pay. His
pockets were empty and his only possessions were a pipe, a bit of tobacco and
his sword.
   A couple of days later he arrived in a valley where a stream crossed his
path. A big man with hands as big as hams, large shoulders and a bull's neck
was sitting by the stream. The man, who had a strangely soft and kind voice,
asked him:
   "Would you like to cross the stream?" The soldier couldn't ask for more.
The man effortlessly uprooted a huge tree and laid it across the stream.
Martin offered the man some of his tobacco in return and when he found out
that the man had nothing to do, Martin asked him to come along.
   "You'll see all the things we can do together!"
   They had just begun walking away when they met a hunter who was aiming his
rifle at a faraway hill.
   "What are you aiming at?"
   "Do you see that cobweb on that tree on top of the hill?" the hunter asked.
"I want to get the spider!" The hunter shot and when the three men got to the
top of the hill they found a big hole in the middle of the cobweb and no more
spider. Martin had never seen anyone shoot that well and he asked the hunter
to join them.
   "Come with us and you'll be in luck!" The three men walked and walked until
they arrived at a windmill. The wheel of the mill was turning even though
there was no wind. The men were puzzled but further up the road they found a
fat man sitting on a tree stump. The man was blowing through one of his
nostrils in the mill's direction. The fat man explained to the three amazed
fellow travellers that his strength was such that he could sneeze up a
hurricane. The soldier convinced him to follow them. As they approached the
city, they were approached by a man who hopped about with his legs tied
together.
   "Who tied you up?" they asked in unison.
   "I did it myself," the man, who was very young and very thin, answered. "If
I untied myself I would run as fast as the wind and would not enjoy the
sights." And so it was that even this character, nicknamed Fastfoot by the
others, joined the group.
   But the surprises of that extraordinary day were far from over. A little
man with a round face sat under a tree. He held his hat over his left ear. "If
I straighten my hat," he explained, "I will freeze everything around me."
Naturally, everybody took his word for it and the stranger was asked to join
the group. The bizarre company finally arrived at the city. A public notice
was hung outside the city walls. The princess announced that whoever would
beat her in a race could marry her.
   The soldier dusted his uniform, cleaned himself up after the long trip and
ran to the palace. He wanted to challenge the princess but said that one of
his servants would run in his place. The princess accepted his challenge. The
morning after, at the starting line, Fastfoot untied his legs and took off
like a rocket. Each one of the contestants had a jug that had to be filled at
a nearby stream and brought back full to the finish line. On his way back,
Fastfoot stopped to pick a flower and after carefully setting the jug on the
ground and realizing that the princess was still far away, he decided to lie
down and rest for a while. Unfortunately, he fell asleep.
   Later on, when the princess caught up with him and saw that he had fallen
asleep, she kicked down his jug and ran away. She was sure of her victory.
From far away the sharp sighted hunter shot and hit a spot near Fastfoot's
ear. Fastfoot woke up all of a sudden and saw the princess approaching the
finish line. He quickly ran back to the stream, filled the jug and reached the
finish line as fast as lightning. The King was furious. He would never let his
daughter marry a miserable soldier.
   He invited the unsuspecting Martin to the palace. Martin told him about his
two years watching over the river, which made the King ever angrier. The King,
however, pretended to feel guilty and invited the soldier and his friends to a
banquet in a strange dining room. In fact the dining room was lined with iron
walls and was built over a huge furnace. The King ordered his men to seal the
dining room's door and to light the furnace. Then he proceeded to watch the
slow death of the group through an unbreakable glass. The six men began eating
but suddenly felt the floor grow very hot, while the room's temperature
rapidly increased.
   But Martin did not lose his head. He straightened the hat of the round
faced little man and pretty soon they were all shivering from the cold. The
King uselessly urged his men to throw more and more wood in the furnace, but
the soldier and his fnends had found a remedy to the King's wickedness. No one
had ever come out of this torture chamber alive, but this time the King had to
accept defeat, even though he was still determined not to let his daughter go.
He offered the soldier a large sum of money as long as he gave up the wedding.
   "I will fill you a bag of gold and other riches if you forget the wedding."
   "That's fine with me," Martin said, "and I accept your offer but as long as
I pick the bag and the man who will carry it away." The poor King was unaware
of the strength of one of the six friends. When he began filling the sack, all
of his gold was not enough to fill it. Martin and his friends were rich. When
they left court, the King had become very poor.
   The monarch lost his temper and realized the soldier had fooled him. He
called the army commander and ordered two battalions to chase Martin. "Bring
them back dead or alive and at all costs!" Later on, the soldiers caught up
with the six young men and surrounded them.
   "Give us back the gold and surrender," they demanded. But the fattest of the
men began blowing so hard that horses and soldiers were carried away. In just a
few minutes the wounded soldiers were scattered all over the plain and the
battalions were no longer a threat to the six extraordinary friends who
continued their journey.
   Then they divided the gold and jewels in equal parts and each one of them
went his own separate way. Martin crossed the bridge where he had been on
watch for so long without any reward and never turned back again.
.

THE PEASANT, THE SNAKE AND THE FOX

 Once upon a time, a peasant on his way home heard a feeble voice calling
"Help! Help!" He looked round, took a careful step or two then realised that
the sound was coming from beneath a large boulder. He asked in amazement:
"Who's that calling?" And a voice replied,
   "It's me. The rock rolled down over my hole and I'm shut in. I can't get
out, I'm going to die. Please help me. Move the boulder." The peasant then
asked:
   "But who are you?"
   "I'm a poor snake," came the reply.
   "A snake? But if I let you out you will bite me."
   "No, no, I promise I won't. Get me out, please!" The peasant allowed
himself to be persuaded and he shifted the boulder . . . and out of a hole in
the ground slid a snake which darted towards the peasant and tried to bite
him. The man jumped back and cried,
   "Why did you do that?" The snake replied, "Because every good deed is
rewarded by an evil one, didn't you know that?"
   "No, I didn't. I don't think that's so," said the peasant.
   "Very well," said the snake. "Let's go and ask someone. If we come across
someone who thinks as you do, well, that's it, but if people say I'm right,
then I shall bite you. Agreed?"
   "Agreed," said the peasant, and off they went.
   A little later, they met an old mangy lame horse, thin and covered in
scratches, with an uncombed mane and dirty tail. The peasant spoke to him.
   "Listen, friend. If someone does a good deed, what does he get as his
reward?" Without a moment's hesitation, the horse replied.
   "A bad deed. Look at me! I served my master faithfully for years and now
that I'm old, he has left me to die of starvation!" At these words, the snake
turned to the peasant and hissed, "Did you hear that? I shall bite you now!"
But the man exclaimed: "Wait! One question isn't enough! We have to ask
someone else."
   "Bother!" exclaimed the snake. "Very well, let's look for someone else, but
wait and see, I'm right and I'll get my bite!" So, leaving the horse behind,
the pair went on their way.
   They met a sheep which, at the peasant's question, said: "A good deed is
always repaid with a bad deed. Look at me, I always follow my master and never
complain. I obey him all the time and what does he do? He shears my fleece in
winter, so I feel the cold, and makes me keep it in summer, so I melt with the
heat!"
   "Get ready," said the snake, "I'm about to bite!" But the peasant said,
   "Please! We've had the first round, and the second one as well, now let's
play the deciding round. If I'm wrong at the third question, then I'll let you
bite me."
   On they went, and in the wood, the peasant caught sight of a fox. Suddenly
he had an idea. With an excuse, he left the snake on the road and ran into the
wood to speak to the fox.
   "Listen, fox, do you too think that a good deed is always rewarded by a bad
one?"
   "Of course!" replied the fox. Then the man went on.
   "Well, listen, I'm going to ask you the same question in front of a snake.
If you say that one good deed is rewarded by another good deed, I'll give you
a present of a piglet, a lamb or a goose. How's that?"
   "Good," said the fox. The peasant went back to the snake.
   "I saw a fox over there," he said. "As you know, foxes are wise. Let's go
and hear what he thinks about it." A little later they asked the fox the same
question and the fox replied as had been agreed.
   "A good deed is always rewarded with another good deed, but," he went on,
"why ask me that question?"
   "Because this snake, that I helped to escape from his hole blocked by a
boulder, wants to bite me," replied the peasant. The fox looked at the snake
and said, "Hmm! I think a snake can manage to slither under a boulder."
   "But it was a big boulder," the snake protested, "and, it was blocking the
entrance to my den."
   "I don't believe you!"
   "Oh, don't you? Well come and see then," said the snake, setting off for
his den with the fox and the peasant. Pointing to the boulder, he said, "See?
That boulder fell just there," and he pointed to the entrance.
   But the fox shook his head. "A big snake like you couldn't get into such a
little hole," he said. Annoyed, the snake retorted,
   "Don't you think so?" and slid swiftly into the hole. Then the fox shouted,
   "Quick, peasant man! Shut him in!" and the peasant rolled the boulder back
across the mouth of the den, imprisoning the snake (and I think he's in there
yet!).
   "Ah, fox," said the peasant happily, "now that was a good deed! You got rid
of that wicked snake for me! Thanks a million!"
   "Oh, it was nothing," replied the fox, "but don't forget that piglet, the
lamb and the goose you promised me."
   "No, I won't. Come to the farm this evening and you shall have them," said
the man.
   That same evening, the fox went to the farm, but the peasant appeared with
two snarling dogs and a gun, shouting, "Get out of here, you horrible beast,
if you don't want to get into trouble!"
   The fox trotted away, sad and disappointed, muttering, "and they say I'm
cunning! The cunning one is that peasant. Oh, well, that poor snake was
probably right, good deeds are repaid with bad deeds," and off he went, his
tail between his legs, into the wood.
.

THE THREE LITTLE PIGS

  Once upon a time . . . there were three little pigs, who left their mummy
and daddy to see the world.
   All summer long, they roamed through the woods and over the plains,playing
games and having fun. None were happier than the three little pigs, and they
easily made friends with everyone. Wherever they went, they were given a warm
welcome, but as summer drew to a close, they realized that folk were drifting
back to their usual jobs, and preparing for winter. Autumn came and it began
to rain. The three little pigs started to feel they needed a real home. Sadly
they knew that the fun was over now and they must set to work like the others,
or they'd be left in the cold and rain, with no roof over their heads. They
talked about what to do, but each decided for himself. The laziest little pig
said he'd build a straw hut.
   "It wlll only take a day,' he said. The others disagreed.
   "It's too fragile," they said disapprovingly, but he refused to listen. Not
quite so lazy, the second little pig went in search of planks of seasoned
wood.
   "Clunk! Clunk! Clunk!" It took him two days to nail them together. But the
third little pig did not like the wooden house.
   "That's not the way to build a house!" he said. "It takes time, patience
and hard work to buiid a house that is strong enough to stand up to wind,
rain, and snow, and most of all, protect us from the wolf!"
   The days went by, and the wisest little pig's house took shape, brick by
brick. From time to time, his brothers visited him, saying with a chuckle:
   "Why are you working so hard? Why don't you come and play?" But the
stubborn bricklayer pig just said "no".
   "I shall finish my house first. It must be solid and sturdy. And then I'll
come and play!" he said. "I shall not be foolish like you! For he who laughs
last, laughs longest!"
   It was the wisest little pig that found the tracks of a big wolf in the
neighbourhood.
   The little pigs rushed home in alarm. Along came the wolf, scowling
fiercely at the laziest pig's straw hut.
   "Come out!" ordered the wolf, his mouth watering. I want to speak to you!"
   "I'd rather stay where I am!" replied the little pig in a tiny voice.
   "I'll make you come out!" growled the wolf angrily, and puffing out his
chest, he took a very deep breath. Then he blew wlth all his might, right onto
the house. And all the straw the silly pig had heaped against some thin poles,
fell down in the great blast. Excited by his own cleverness, the wolf did not
notice that the little pig had slithered out from underneath the heap of
straw, and was dashing towards his brother's wooden house. When he realized
that the little pig was escaping, the wolf grew wild with rage.
   "Come back!" he roared, trying to catch the pig as he ran into the wooden
house. The other little pig greeted his brother, shaking like a leaf.
   "I hope this house won't fall down! Let's lean against the door so he can't
break in!"
   Outside, the wolf could hear the little pigs' words. Starving as he was, at
the idea of a two-course meal, he rained blows on the door.
   "Open up! Open up! I only want to speak to you!"
   Inside, the two brothers wept in fear and did their best to hold the door
fast against the blows. Then the furious wolf braced himself a new effort: he
drew in a really enormous breath, and went ... WHOOOOO! The wooden house
collapsed like a pack of cards.
   Luckily, the wisest little pig had been watching the scene from the window
of his own brick house, and he rapidly opened the door to his fleeing
brothers. And not a moment too soon, for the wolf was already hammering
furiously on the door. This time, the wolf had grave doubts. This house had a
much more solid air than the others. He blew once, he blew again and then for
a third time. But all was in vain. For the house did not budge an lnch. The
three little pigs watched him and their fear began to fade. Quite exhausted by
his efforts, the wolf decided to try one of his tricks. He scrambled up a
nearby ladder, on to the roof to have a look at the chimney. However, the
wisest little pig had seen thls ploy, and he quickly said:
   "Quick! Light the fire!" With his long legs thrust down the chimney, the
wolf was not sure if he should slide down the black hole. It wouldn'tbe easy
to get in, but the sound of the little pigs' voices below only made him feel
hungrier.
   "I'm dying of hunger! I'm goin to try and get down." And he let himself
drop. But landing was rather hot, too hot! The wolf landed in the fire, stunned
by his fall.
   The flames licked his hairy coat and his tail became a flaring torch.
   "Never again! Never again will I go down a chimneyl" he squealed, as he
tried to put out the flames in his tail. Then he ran away as fast as he could.
   The three happy little pigs, dancing round and round the yard, began to
sing:
   "Tra-la-la! Tra-la-la! The wicked black wolf will never come back...!"
   From that terrible day on, the wisest little pig's brothers set to work
with a will. In less than no time, up went the two new brick houses. The wolf
did return once to roam in the neighbourhood, but when he caught sight of
three chimneys, he remembered the terrible pain of a burnt tail, and he left
for good.
   Now safe and happy, the wisest little pig called to his brothers:
   "No more work! Come on, let's go and play!"
.

THE WEEPING PRINCESS

  Once upon a time . . . a greedy emperor forced his subjects to pay heavy
taxes. Not only the poor were squeezed, but the nobles in this immense empire
were highly taxed too. At last, tired of being crushed by taxes, the nobles
held a protest meeting. When the emperor heard about this, he took fright for
he feared a rebellion. So he sent out this proclamation to put an end to their
complaints:
   "The nobleman that can make my daughter Sarah smile again, for she's
mourning the loss of her fiance. will never pay taxes again."
   This caused an uproar at the protest meeting. Most of the princes decided
there was no need now to complain, for each was quite sure he would succeed
where others might fail. So off they went to get ready to try and make Sarah
smile. But some of the nobles warned their fellows that, with his words, the
emperor was not really abolishing any taxes at all. From that day on, a long
procession of noble knights trooped from all over the empire to the palace to
try and console the weeping princess.
   The crowds cheered them as they passed, but when they returned with bowed
heads, the same crowds booed and whistled at their failure. The days went by
and the list of defeated knights grew longer . . . Indians, Circassians, Arabs
and Turks . . . from all over the provinces came bold young men, bouncing with
confidence and hope. But the minute the princess set eyes on them, she just
wept and wept. The emperor was delighted, for each failure meant another
taxpayer. Even the common folk seemed contented to see that the rich too did
not always get what they wanted. The only unhappy person among them was Sarah,
who went on weeping.
   One day, a Mongol prince seemed to be on the point of winning a smile. He
thrummed his balalaika for hours, playing first a sad tune, then a more
cheerful one, till he finished by playing a merry jig. The princess sat for
ages staring at him eyed and the onlookers thought she was about to smile.
Instead she burst into floods of tears, to everyone's disappointment. A
Kurdish chief, famed for his humour, who had already kept the court in fits of
laughter, tried to steal a smile from Sarah with his witty remarks. But the
princess's dark eyes filled with tears. Noblemen came from as far away as
Persia, but in vain.
   The only person who had not yet appeared was Omar, the chief of the tiniest
farthest away province. A bright, intelligent young man, he had cleverly got
the better of certain greedy ambitious relatives that tried to take away his
power when he succeeded his uncle as chief. The emperor's messengers had taken
a long time to reach this remote realm, and though Omar set out at once, on
hearing the news, he rode for many days on his fine black horse. Then, one
evening, he reached the palace. When the tired and dusty traveller explained
to the stable boys why he had come, they laughed in scorn. But they had orders
to obey, so they told him to enter.
   "It's late," they said, "and you won't see the princess till tomorrow."
   The emperor's other daughters, however, were soon told of the new arrival.
"He's the most handsome of them all!" exclaimed one of the servants. So
Marika, the emperor's youngest and prettiest daughter, with her sisters,
peeked through a window at the sleeping Omar. Next morning, the emperor
ordered the newcomer to be led before Sarah. The court crowded round to watch.
Unlike all the other suitors, Omar did nothing at all to amuse the princess.
He stared at Sarah without saying a word. And she stared back, with an empty
look on her face. The two young people stared silently at each other. Then
Omar went back to the emperor and said:
   "Sire! Give me your sceptre and I will solve the problem of Sarah."
Surprised at such an odd request, the emperor followed Omar into Sarah's room.
The other princesses clustered round, smiling and admiring the handsome young
man. With a deep bow to Sarah, Omar straightened up and dealt her a blow on
the head with the sceptre. Screams filled the air the emperor threw up hls
arms in rage and his daughters fled in all directions. The guards drew their
swords. Then the whole room stopped in amazement. For, out of Sarah's head,
which had been chopped off by the blow, rolled broken springs and pieces of
metal. The princess that never smiled was a doll! A perfect dolll And nobody
had ever been aware of it except Omar.
   The only princess that couldn't stop laughing was Marika. The emperor
glared at her.
   "Be quiet . . ." he ordered. But he too saw the funny side of it. For the
crafty emperor had been making use of Sarah the doll as a way of guaranteeing
himself a steady flow of taxes from all his subjects. And now, a man more
cunning than himself had exposed his trick. The emperor had a sudden thought:
he would rid himself of the cheeky Marika and gain an astute son-in-law able
to help him hold onto his kingdom.
   "You should be put to death for this insolence," he said, "but I'm going to
spare your life, if you marry my youngest daughter. Of course, you won't need
to pay taxes!" Smiling at a happy Marika, Omar nodded silently. Down in the
depths of his mind he was thinking:
   "One day, dear father-in-law, I'll be sitting on your Imperial throne." And
he was, a few years later.
.

THE SLEEPING PRINCESS

   Once upon a time there was a Queen who had a beautiful baby daughter. She
asked all the fairies in the kingdom to the christening, but unfortunately
forgot to invite one of them, who was a bit of a witch as well. She came
anyway, but as she passed the baby's cradle, she said:
   "When you are sixteen, you will injure yourself with a spindle and die!"
   "Oh, no!" screamed the Queen in horror. A good fairy quickly chanted a
magic spell to change the curse. When she hurt herself, the girl would fall
into a very deep sleep instead of dying.
   The years went by, the little Princess grew and became the most beautiful
girl in the whole kingdom. Her mother was always very careful to keep her away
from spindles, but the Princess, on her sixteenth birthday, as she wandered
through the castle, came into a room where an old servant was spinning.
   "What are you doing?" she asked the servant.
   "I'm spinning. Haven't you seen a spindle before?"
   "No. Let me see it!" The servant handed the girl the spindle ... and she
pricked herself with it and. with a sigh, dropped to the floor.
   The terrified old woman hurried to tell the Queen. Beside herself with
anguish, the Queen did her best to awaken her daughter but in vain. The court
doctors and wizards were called, but there was nothing they could do. The girl
could not be wakened from her deep sleep. The good fairy who managed to avoid
the worst of the curse came too, and the Queen said to her,
   "When will my daughter waken?"
   "I don't know," the fairy admitted sadly.
   "In a year's time, ten years or twenty?" the Queen went on.
   "Maybe in a hundred years' time. Who knows?" said the fairy.
   "Oh! What would make her waken?" asked the Queen weeplng.
   "Love," replied the fairy. "If a man of pure heart were to fall in love
with her, that would bring her back to life!"
   "How can a man fall in love with a sleeping girl?" sobbed the Queen, and so
heart-broken was she that, a few days later, she died. The sleeping Princess
was taken to her room and laid on the bed surrounded by garlands of flowers.
She was so beautiful, with a sweet face, not like those of the dead, but pink
like those who are sleeping peacefully. The good fairy said to herself,
   "When she wakens, who is she going to see around her? Strange faces and
people she doesn't know? I can never let that happen. It would be too painful
for this unfortunate girl."
   So the fairy cast a spell; and everyone that lived in the castle -
soldiers, ministers, guards, servants, ladies, pages, cooks, maids and
knights - all fell into a deep sleep, wherever they were at that very moment.
   "Now," thought the fairy, "when the Princess wakes up, they too will
awaken, and life will go on from there." And she left the castle, now wrapped
in silence. Not a sound was to be heard, nothing moved except for the clocks,
but when they too ran down, they stopped, and time stopped with them. Not even
the faintest rustle was to be heard, only the wind whistling round the
turrets, not a single voice, only the cry of birds.
   The years sped past. In the castle grounds, the trees grew tall. The bushes
became thick and straggling, the grass invaded the courtyards and the creepers
spread up the walls. In a hundred years, a dense forest grew up.
   Now, it so happened that a Prince arrived in these parts. He was the son of
a king in a country close by. Young, handsome and melancholy, he sought in
solitude everything he could not find in the company of other men: serenity,
sincerity and purity. Wandering on his trusty steed he arrived, one day, at
the dark forest. Being adventurous, he decided to explore it. He made his way
through slowly and with a struggle, for the trees and bushes grew in a thick
tangle. A few hours later, now losing heart, he was about to turn his horse
and go back when he thought he could see something through the trees . . . He
pushed back the branches . . . Wonder of wonders! There in front of him stood
a castle with high towers. The young man stood stock still in amazement,
   "I wonder who this castle belongs to?" he thought.
   The young Prince rode on towards the castle. The drawbridge was down and,
holding his horse by the reins, he crossed over it. Immediately he saw the
inhabitants draped all over the steps, the halls and courtyards, and said to
himself,
   "Good heavens! They're dead!" But in a moment, he realised that they were
sound asleep. "Wake up! Wake up!" he shouted, but nobody moved. Still
thoroughly astonished, he went into the castle and again discovered more
people, lying fast asleep on the floor. As though led by a hand in the
complete silence, the Prince finally reached the room where the beautiful
Princess lay fast asleep. For a long time he stood gazing at her face, so full
of serenity, so peaceful, lovely and pure, and he felt spring to his heart
that love he had always been searching for and never found. Overcome by
emotion, he went close, lifted the girl's little white hand and gently kissed
it . . .
   At that kiss, the prlncess qulckly opened her eyes, and wakening from her
long long sleep, seeing the Prince beside her, murmured:
   "Oh, you have come at last! I was waiting for you in my dream. I've waited
so long!"
   Just then, the spell was broken. The Princess rose to her feet, holding out
her hand to the Prince. And the whole castle woke up too. Everybody rose to
their feet and they all stared round in amazement, wondering what had
happened. When they finally realised, they rushed to the Princess, more
beautiful and happier then ever.
   A few days later, the castle that only a short time before had lain in
silence, now rang with the sound of singing, music and happy laughter at the
great party given in honour of the Prince and Princess, who were getting
married. They lived happily ever after, as they always do in fairy tales, not
quite so often, however, in real life.

.

TIL ULENSPIGHEL

   Once upon a time there lived a little boy called Til Ulenspighel. His
father was a good blacksmith, his mother a kindly woman but they never
imagined that they had brought into the world naughtiest rascal ever heard of!
Til had such a lively personality, bright and naughty, that people couldn't
help smiling when they saw him. And he got up to such mischief and all sorts
of tricks that we can't help smiling to ourselves . . . But as you'll soon
see, the ones who didn't see the funny side of things were his fellow
citizens. The minute he learned to speak, Til pulled people's legs. If a man,
for instance, had flat feet, Til would greet him by saying,
   "Good day, Mr. Flatfeet!" And if a lady had a red nose, he would say, "Good
evening, Mrs. Rednose!" He enjoyed playing tricks and teasing everyone. Of
course, the neighbours complained to his father, saying,
   "Mr. Ulenspighel, what a rude son you have!" And so, one day, Til's father
said to him,
   "Listen, son, why don't people like you? Do you annoy them?"
   "Who, me?" said Til with an innocent air. "I never bother anyone. It's
other people that shake their fists at me whenever they see me and say nasty
things."
   "Hmm!" said his father. "I wonder if that's really so. l'm going to market
with the donkey. Get up behind!" Till didn't need to be told twice and he
clambered behind his father.
   But the second he was on the donkey's back, he hung a notice on his
shoulders on which he had written: 'Whoever reads this is a donkey.' People
did read it and they were offended, so they shook their fists and shouted,
"Oh, you horrid boy, Til! What a little horror you are!" On hearing these
shouts, Til's father, who knew nothing about the notice, muttered:
   "You're right, Til. People are angry with you, though goodness knows why!
Don't worry," he added, "come and sit in front and we'll see if they still
call you names." Til did as he was told and slung the notice over his chest.
Though his father couldn't see it, he could see other people as they shook
their fists, scowled, shouted and yelled insults, and he said, "Folk don't
like you, Til. But pay no attention to them and go your own way!" And Til
laughed up his sleeve....
   Time went by and Til began to weary of long faces every time people saw
him. He joked and teased folk now and again, but what harm was there in that?
All he wanted to do was amuse himself and others as well. One day, a company
of wandering entertainers came to the town: actors, sword swallowers and
acrobats. They made a great impression on the lad, who stared at them
open-mouthed. While holding a pole in their hands, they kept their balance as
they walked the tightrope across the road. How he would love to do the same.
The people who now shook their fists at him would clap their hands. No sooner
thought than done, the boy picked up a pole, stretched a rope between two
trees in the wood and started to practise. Of course, it wasn't easy and he
fell more than once. But in the end, he felt pretty secure and decided to hold
a show. He went through the streets crying,
   "Tomorrow, Til Ulenspighel, the acrobat, will walk the tightrope!" Filled
with curiosity, everyone came to watch.
   Til had stretched the rope between his balcony and a tree in the nearby
wood: the rope lay above the river and the young lad climbed on. The crowd
that, at first had laughed and made a noise, grew quiet after a while, and
were impressed:
   "He's clever all right," someone said. "He's a real acrobat," said someone
else. "We were wrong about him!"
   At that moment, Til's mother, who knew nothing about her son's gymnastics,
hearing the murmur of the crowd, went onto the balcony . . . and saw her son
walking the rope suspended over empty space. Frightened, she shouted,
   "Til, come down at once!" And seeing that the boy was not doing as he was
told, she picked up the scissors and cut the rope. Til fell with a splash into
the river. You can imagine the people! First they started to laugh, snigger
and make fun of the poor lad as he struggled soaking from the water.
   "Hey, acrobat! If that had been the ground instead of water, you'd have had
a cracked head, wouldn't you?" they called, chuckling, and Til said to
himself, "Laugh if you want to, he who laughs last laughs longest! . . ."
   Some days later, Til announced he was going to repeat the show, this time
not over the river but above the main road. Everyone rushed to watch, hoping
to see him fall off and hurt himself. Before he ventured on to the rope, Til
called out, "To make it more difficult for me, I'm going to carry a sack on my
back. Every spectator will give me his left shoe. I'll put it in the sack and
hand it back at the end of the show." Everyone did this. Til walked the
tightrope until he reached the middle of the road, and from the heights he
said, "Now I'm going to give vou back your shoes. There they are!" and opening
the sack, he emptied out the shoes.
   You can picture the confusion that reigned then. Not only did the onlookers
get hit on the head by shoes, but everyone hunted for his own shoe without
managing to find it; he'd pick one up, but it belonged to somebody else, and
he'd throw it down again, and start to look for another, argue, exchange
insults . . . and Til, from a window on high looked down on the pandemonium
and chuckling said,
   "Ha! He who laughs last laughs longest!"
.

THE STORY OF THUMBELINA

   Once upon atime . . . there lived a woman who had no children. She dreamed
of having a little girl, but time went by, and her dream never came true.
   She then went to visit a witch, who gave her a magic grain of barley. She
planted it in a flower pot. And the very next day, the grain had turned into a
lovely flower, rather like a tulip. The woman softly kissed its half-shut
petals. And as though by magic, the flower opened in full blossom. Inside sat
a tiny girl, no bigger than a thumb. The woman called her Thumbelina. For a
bed she had a walnut shell, violet petals for her mattress and a rose petal
blanket. In the daytime, she played in a tulip petal boat, floating on a plate
of water. Using two horse hairs as oars, Thumbelina sailed around her little
lake, singing and singing in a gentle sweet voice.
   Then one night, as she lay fast asleep in her walnut shell, a large frog
hopped through a hole in the window pane. As she gazed down at Thumbelina, she
said to herself: "How pretty she is! She'd make the perfect bride for my own
dear son!"
   She picked up Thumbelina, walnut shell and all, and hopped into the garden.
Nobody saw her go.Back at the pond, her fat ugly son, who always did as mother
told him, was pleased with her choice. But mother frog was afraid that her
pretty prisoner might run away. So she carried Thumbellna out to a water lily
leaf ln the middle of the pond.
   "She can never escape us now," said the frog to her son.
   "And we have plenty of time to prepare a new home for you and your bride."
Thumbelina was left all alone. She felt so desperate. She knew she would never
be able to escape the fate that awaited her with the two horrid fat frogs. All
she could do was cry her eyes out. However, one or two minnows who had been
enjoying the shade below the water lily leaf, had overheard the two frogs
talking, and the little girl's bitter sobs. They decided to do something about
it. So they nibbled away at the lily stem till it broke and drifted away in
the weak current. A dancing butterfly had an idea: "Throw me the end of your
belt! I'll help you to move a little faster!" Thumbelina gratefully did so,
and the leaf soon floated away from the frog pond.
   But other dangers lay ahead. A large beetle snatched Thumbelina with his
strong feet and took her away to his home at the top of a leafy tree.
   "Isn't she pretty?" he said to his friends. But they pointed out that she
was far too different. So the beetle took her down the tree and set her free.
   It was summertime, and Thumbelina wandered all by herself amongst the
flowers and through the long grass. She had pollen for her meals and drank the
dew. Then the rainy season came, bringing nastyweather. The poor child found
it hard to find food and shelter. When winter set in, she suffered from the
cold and felt terrible pangs of hunger.
   One day, as Thumbelina roamed helplessly over the bare meadows, she met a
large spider who promised to help her. He took her to a hollow tree and
guarded the door with a stout web. Then he brought her some dried chestnuts
and called his friends to come and admire her beauty. But just like the
beetles, all the other spiders persuaded Thumbelina's rescuer to let her go.
Crying her heart out, and quite certain that nobody wanted her because she was
ugly, Thumbelina left the spider's house.
   As she wandered, shivering with the cold, suddenly she came across a solid
little cottage, made of twigs and dead leaves. Hopefully, she knocked on the
door. It was opened by a field mouse.
   "What are you doing outside in this weather?" he asked. "Come in and warm
yourself." Comfortable and cozy, the field mouse's home was stocked with food.
For her keep, Thumbelina did the housework and told the mouse stories. One
day, the field mouse said a friend was coming to visit them.
   "He's a very rich mole, and has a lovely house. He wears a splendid black
fur coat, but he's dreadfully shortsighted. He needs company and he'd like to
marry you!" Thumbelina did not relish the idea. However, when the mole came,
she sang sweetly to him and he fell head over heels in love. The mole invited
Thumbelina and the field mouse to visit him, but . . . to their surprise and
horror, they came upon a swallow in the tunnel. It looked dead. Mole nudged it
wi his foot, saying: "That'll teach her! She should have come underground
instead of darting about the sky all summer!" Thumbelina was so shocked by
such cruel words that later, she crept back unseen to the tunnel.
   And every day, the little girl went to nurse the swallow and tenderly give
it food.
   In the meantime, the swallow told Thumbelina its tale. Jagged by a thorn,
it had been unable to follow its companions to a warmer climate.
   "It's kind of you to nurse me," it told Thumbelina. But, in spring, the
swallow flew away, after offering to take the little girl with it. All summer,
Thumbelina did her best to avoid marrying the mole. The little girl thought
fearfully of how she'd have to live underground forever. On the eve of her
wedding, she asked to spend a day in the open air. As she gently fingered a
flower, she heard a familiar song: "Winter's on its way and I'll be off to
warmer lands. Come with me!" Thumbelina quickly clung to her swallow friend,
and the bird soared into the sky. They flew over plains and hills till they
reached a country of flowers. The swallow gently laid Thumbelina in a blossom.
There she met a tiny, white-winged fairy: the King of the Flower Fairies.
Instantly, he asked her to marry him. Thumbelina eagerly said "yes", and
sprouting tiny white wings, she became the Flower Queen!
.

GOLDILOCKS AND THE THREE BEARS

   Once upon a time . . . in a large forest, close to a village, stood the
cottage where the Teddy Bear family lived. They were not really proper Teddy
Bears, for Father Bear was very big, Mother Bear was middling in size, and
only Baby Bear could be described as a Teddy Bear.
   Each bear had its own size of bed. Father Bear's was large and nice and
comfy. Mother Bear's bed was middling in size, while Baby Bear had a fine
little cherrywood bed that Father Bear had ordered from a couple of beaver
friends.
   Beside the fireplace, around which the family sat in the evenings, stood a
large carved chair for the head of the house, a delightful blue velvet
armchair for Mother Bear, and a very little chair for Baby Bear.
   Neatly laid out on the kitchen table stood three china bowls. A large one
for Father Bear, a smaller one for Mother Bear, and a little bowl for Baby
Bear.
   The neighbours were all very respectful to Father Bear and people raised
their hats when he went by. Father Bear liked that and he always politely
replied to their greetings. Mother Bear had lots of friends. She visited them
in the afternoons to exchange good advice and recipes for jam and bottled
fruit. Baby Bear, however, had hardly any friends. This was partly because he
was rather a bully and liked to win games and arguments. He was a pest too and
always getting into mischief. Not far away, lived a fair-haired little girl
who had a similar nature to Baby Bear, only she was haughty and stuck-up as
well, and though Baby Bear often asked her to come and play at his house, she
always said no.
   One day, Mother Bear made a nice pudding. It was a new recipe, with
blueberries and other crushed berries. Her friends told her it was delicious.
When it was ready, she said to the family:
   "It has to be left to cool now, otherwise it won't taste nice. That will
take at least an hour. Why don't we go and visit the Beavers' new baby? Mummy
Beaver will be pleased to see us." Father Bear and Baby Bear would much rather
have tucked into the pudding, warm or not, but they liked the thought of
visiting the new baby.
   'We must wear our best clothes, even for such a short visit. Everyone at
the Beavers' will be very busy now, and we must not stay too long!" And so
they set off along the pathway towards the river bank. A short time later, the
stuck-up little girl, whose name was Goldilocks, passed by the Bears' house as
she picked flowers.
   "Oh, what an ugly house the Bears have!" said Goldilocks to herself as she
went down the hill. "I'm going to peep inside! It won't be beautiful like my
house, but I'm dying to see where Baby Bear lives.' Knock! Knock! The little
girl tapped on the door. Knock! Knock! Not a sound...
   "Surely someone will hear me knocking," Goldilocks said herself,
impatiently. "Anyone at home?" she called, peering round the door. Then she
went into the empty house and started to explore the kitchen.
   "A pudding!" she cried, dipping her finger into the pudding Mother Bear had
left to cool. "Quite nice!" she murmured, spooning it from  Baby Bear's bowl.
In a twinkling, the bowl lay empty on a messy table. With a full tummy,
Goldilocks went on exploring.
   "Now then, this must be Father Bear's chair, this will be Mother Bear's,
and this one . . . must belong to my friend, Baby Bear. I'll just sit on it a
while!" With these words, Goldilocks sat herself down onto the little chair
which, quite unused to such a sudden weight, promptly broke a leg. Goldilocks
crashed to the floor, but not in the least dismayed by the damage she had done,
she went upstalrs.                                                     '~
   There was no mistaklng which was Baby Bear's bed.
   "Mm! Quite comfy!" she said, I bouncing on it. "Not as nice as mine, but
nearly! Then she yawned. I think I'll lie down, only for a minute . . . just
to try the bed." And in next to no time, Goldilocks lay fast asleep in Baby
Bear's bed. In the meantime, the Bears weer on their way home.
   "Wasn't the new Beaver baby ever so small?" said Baby Bear to his mother.
Was I as tiny as that when I was born?"
   "Not quite, but almost," came the reply, with a fond caress. From a
distance, Father Bear noticed the door was ajar.
    "Hurry!" he cried. "Someone is in our house . . ." Was Father Bear hungry
or did a thought strike him? Anyway, he dashed into the kitchen. "I knew it!
Somebody has gobbled up the pudding..."
   "Someone has been jumping up and down on my armchair!" complained Mother
Bear.
   ". . . and somebody's broken my chair!" wailed Baby Bear.
   Where could the culprit be? They all ran upstairs and tiptoed in amazement
over to Baby Bear's bed. In it lay Goldilocks, sound asleep. Baby Bear prodded
her toe...
   "Who's that? Where am I?" shrieked the little girl, waking with a start.
Taking fright at the scowling faces bending over her, she clutched the
bedclothes up to her chin. Then she jumped out of bed and fled down the
stairs.
   "Get away! Away from that house!" she told herself as she ran, forgetful of
all the trouble she had so unkindly caused. But Baby Bear called from the
door, waving his arm:
   "Don't run away! Come back! I forgive you... come and play wlth me!"
   And this is how it all ended. From that day onwards, haughty rude
Goldilocks became a pleasant little girl. She made friends with Baby Bear and
often went to his house. She invited him to her house too, and they remained
good friends, always.
.

THE MAGIC TINDERBOX

   Once upon a time . . . a brave soldier returned from the wars. In spite of
his courage, his pockets were empty and hls only possession was his sword. As
he walked through a forest, he met a witch, who said to him: "I say, good
soldier, would you like to earn a bag of money?"
   "Money? I'd do anything for money . . ."
   "Good!" went on the witch. "It won't be difficult, you'll see! All you have
to do is go down that hollow tree till you reach a cave. There, you'll find
three doorways. When you open the first door, you'll see a big dog with eyes
like saucers, guarding a large chest of copper coins. Behind the second door
lies a treasure of silver coins, guarded by a dog with eyes the size of mill
stones. When you open the third door, you'll come upon another dog, with eyes
the size of a castle tower, beside a treasure of gold. Now, if you lay this
old apron of mine before these dogs, they'll crouch on it and do you no harm.
You'll be able to carry away all the coins you want. What do think of that?"
   However, the soldier suspiciously asked: "What do you want in return?"
   "Just bring me back an old tinderbox my grandfather left down there, long
ago!"
   So the young soldier tied a rope round his waist and, not forgetting his
trusty sword, he lowered himself into the hollow tree. To his great surprise,
he found the three doorways and the three dogs, just as the witch had said.
Soon he was back, his pockets bulging with coins, but before he handed the
tinderbox to the old witch, he asked her: "What do you want it for?"
   The witch hurled herself at the soldier, screaming: "Give it to me! Give it
to me at once, or else . . .", as she tried to scratch him. When the witch
attacked him, the soldier exclaimed: "Aha! So this is the thanks I get! Now
I'll show you!"
   He undid the rope from around his waist and tied up the old woman. Then
away he went, whistling cheerfully.
   When he reached the town, he said to himself: "Now I can feast as much as I
 like - at last!"
   After years of scrimping on a miserable pay, with his sudden wealth, the
soldier felt like a prince. He bought a new pair of boots and he went to the
best tailor in the town. Some days later, he was clad in a fine new uniform
and people turned in the street to admire him. Lavish with his money, the
soldier was surrounded by folk quick to tell him how to spend his coins, and
it all went on a round of dances, fine carriages, theatres and, most of all,
on drinking sprees. Of course, his money soon ran out and when this happened,
his "friends" vanished. When the innkeeper discovered that the soldier could
no longer pay his board, he rudely put him out. So the poor soldier ended up
in a garret and every day he had to draw in his belt a little more. All the
fun was over.
   One evening, he realized he had never used the old witch's tinderbox. So he
rubbed it, and as it sparked, the dog with the eyes like saucers suddenly
appeared.
   "Tell me your wish, sir," it said.
   ". . . bring me heaps of money!" gasped the soldier in amazement. A second
later, the dog was back with a bag of coins. Every time he rubbed the
tinderbox, the dog brought him more money. Then when he rubbed it quickly
twice in succession, the dog with eyes like mill stones stood before him,
carrying silver coins. And when the soldier rubbed the tinderbox three times
in a row, the third dog came carrying gold. Rich all over again, the soldier
chose the best hotel in the town and went back to leading the life of a fine
gentleman.
   The soldier was told that the King would not allow anyone to meet his
beatufil daughter, for he believed in a saying that the Princess's destiny was
to marry a slmple soldler. That evening, the soldier rubbed the tinderbox.
   "Bring me the Princess," was his new order. Immediately the dog returned
with the beautiful Princess, fast asleep. The soldier kissed her. Next
morning, the girl told her parents that she had had a dream. But the Queen,
suspiciously ordered one of the ladies-in-waiting to guard her daughter day
and night. The dog was seen when it came next evening and the alarm raised.
The king's guards followed the dog and the soldier was arrested at dawn.
   The King's revenge was terrible: the soldier was to be hanged!
   In a dark prison, the soldier calmly awaited his fate. When the day of
execution came, a mob crushed round the scaffold.
   The soldier asked if he could smoke his pipe, and placed it between his
lips, as he rubbed the tinderbox over and over again. In a flash, the three
dogs appeared with gaping jaws and bloodshot eyes. At the soldier's sharp
command, they leapt on the guards and the crowd cheered in delight.
   Awestruck at this magic feat, the King bowed his head and whispered to the
Queen. "The saying is true!" he said. A little while after, the young soldier
married the Princess and the tinderbox was rubbed and rubbed, but this time to
 invite the three dogs to the splendid wedding.                                        I
.

LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD

   Once upon a time . . . in the middle of a thick forest stood a small
cottage, the home of a pretty little girl known to everyone as Little Red
Riding Hood. One day, her Mummy waved her goodbye at the garden gate, saying:
"Grandma is ill. Take her this basket of cakes, but be very careful. Keep to
the path through the wood and don't ever stop. That way, you will come to no
harm."
   Little Red Riding Hood kissed her mother and ran off. "Don't worry,' she
said, "I'll run all the way to Grandma's without stopping."
   Full of good intentions, the little girl made her way through the wood, but
she was soon to forget her mother's wise words. "What lovely strawberries! And
so red . . ."
   Laying her basket on the ground, Little Red Riding Hood bent over the
strawberry plants. "They're nice and ripe, and so big! Yummy! Delicious! Just
another one. And one more. This is the last . . . Well, this one . . . Mmmm."
   The red fruit peeped invitingly through the leaves in the grassy glade, and
Little Red Riding Hood ran back and forth popping strawberries into her mouth.
Suddenly she remembered her mother, her promise, Grandma and the basket . . .
and hurried back towards the path. The basket was still in the grass and,
humming to herself, Little Red Riding Hood walked on.
   The wood became thicker and thicker. Suddenly a yellow butterfly fluttered
down through the trees. Little Red Riding Hood started to chase the butterfly.
   "I'll catch you! I'll catch you!" she called. Suddenly she saw some large
daisies in the grass.
   "Oh, how sweet!" she exclaimed and, thinking of Grandma, she picked a large
bunch of flowers.
   In the meantime, two wicked eyes were spying on her from behind a tree . .
a strange rustling in the woods made Little Red Riding Hood's heart thump.
   Now quite afraid she said to herself. "I must find the path and run away
from here!"
   At last she reached the path again but her heart leapt into her mouth at
 the sound of a gruff voice which said: "Where ' . . are you going, my pretty
girl, all alone in the woods?"
   "I'm taking Grandma some cakes. She lives at the end of the path," said
Little Riding Hood in a faint voice.
   When he heard this, the wolf (for it was the big bad wolf himself) politely
asked: "Does Grandma live by herself?"
   "Oh, yes," replied Little Red Riding Hood, "and she never opens the door to
strangers!"
   "Goodbye. Perhaps we'll meet again," replied the wolf. Then he loped away
thinking to himself "I'll gobble the grandmother first, then lie in wait for
the grandchild!" At last, the cottage came in sight. Knock! Knock! The wolf
rapped on the door.                                                         --~   "Who's there?" cried Grandma from her bed.
   "It's me, Little Red Riding Hood. I've brought you some cakes because
you're ill," replied the wolf, trying hard to hide his gruff voice.
   "Lift the latch and come in," said Grandma, unaware of anything amiss, till
a horrible shadow appeared on the wall. Poor Grandma! For in one bound, the
wolf leapt across the room and, in a single mouthful, swallowed the old lady.
Soon after, Little Red Riding Hood tapped on the door.
   "Grandma, can I come in?" she called.
   Now, the wolf had put on the old lady's shawl and cap and slipped into the
bed. Trying to imitate Grandma's quavering little voice, he replied: "Open the latch and come in!
   "What a deep voice you have," said the little girl in surpnse.
   "The better to greet you with," said the wolf.
   "Goodness, what big eyes you have."
   "The better to see you with."
   "And what big hands you have!" exclaimed Little Red Riding Hood, stepping
over to the bed.
   "The better to hug you with," said the wolf.
   "What a big mouth you have," the little girl murmured in a weak voice.
   "The better to eat you with!" growled the wolf, and jumping out of bed, he
swallowed her up too. Then, with a fat full tummy, he fell fast asleep.
   In the meantime, a hunter had emerged from the wood, and on noticing the
cottage, he decided to stop and ask for a drink. He had spent a lot of time
trying to catch a large wolf that had been terrorizing the neighbourhood, but
had lost its tracks. The hunter could hear a strange whistling sound; it
seemed to be coming from inside the cottage. He peered through the window ...
and saw the large wolf himself, with a fat full tummy, snoring away in
Grandma's bed.
   "The wolf! He won't get away this time!"
   Without making a sound, the hunter carefully loaded his gun and gently
opened the window. He pointed the barrel straight at the wolf's head and . . .
BANG! The wolf was dead.
   "Got you at last!" shouted the hunter in glee. "You'll never frighten
anyone agaln.
   He cut open the wolf's stomach and to his amazement, out popped Grandma and
Little Red Riding Hood, safe and unharmed.
   "You arrived just in time," murmured the old lady, quite overcome by all
the excitement.                                     ~
   "It's safe to go home now," the hunter told Little Red Riding Hood. "The
big bad wolf is dead and gone, and there is no danger on the path.
   Still scared, the little girl hugged her grandmother. Oh, what a dreadful
fright!"
   Much later, as dusk was falling, Little Red Riding Hood's mother arrived,
all out of breath, worried because her llttle girl had not come home. And when
she saw Little Red Riding Hood, safe and sound, she burst into tears of joy.
   After thanking the hunter again, Little Red Rldlng Hood and her mother set
off towards the wood. As they walked quickly through the trees, the little
girl told her mother: "We must always keep to the path and never stop. That
way, we come to no harm!"
.

THE WOLF AND THE SEVEN KIDS

   Once upon a time . . . a Mother Goat lived in a pretty little house with
her seven kids. Mother often had to leave home to do the shopping, and on that
fateful day, she had given her children the usual warnings, before setting off
to market.
   "You mustn't open the door to anyone. Don't forget, there's a wicked wolf
lurking about here. It's black, with horrible paws and a nasty deep voice. If
it knocks, keep the door tightly shut!" Mother Goat's words were wise indeed,
for as she was telling one of her neighbours about her fears, the wolf
disguised as a peasant was hiding close by, listening to every word.
   "Good! Very good!" said the wolf to himself."If the goat goes market, I'II
drop by her house and gobble the kids!' Then,trying not to look too
conspicuous, the wolf hurried along to the goat's house. There, he threw off
his disguise. He then growled in a deep voice: "Open the door! Open the door!
It's Mother! I've just come back from market! Open the door!" When the kids
heard the deep voice, they remembered their mother's warning. From behind the
barred door, they said to the wolf: "We know who you are! You're the wolf! Our
mother has a sweet gentle voice, not a deep nasty one like yours! Go away!
We'll never open the door to you!"
   And though the wolf banged furiously on the door, the kids, though
trembling with terror, refused to let him into the house, and so the door
remained shut. Then the wolf had a brainwave. He dashed off to the baker's and
got a big cake dripping with honey. He hoped this would sweeten his voice. And
in fact, after eating it, his voice didn't sound quite so deep. Over and over
again, he practised imitating Mother Goat's voice. You see, he'd heard it in
the woods. When he felt certain he could easily be mistaken for Mother Goat
herself, he rushed back to the house and the seven kids.
   "Open the door! Open the door! It's Mother! I've just come back from
market! Open the door!" he called. This time, the kids had doubts: the voice
did rather sound like mother's, and they were about to unlock the door, when
the black kid suspiciously cried: "Mother, let us see your foot!" Without
thinking, the wolf raised a black hairy paw. And the kids knew that the wolf
had come back.
   "You're not our mother! She doesn't have horrid black paws!" cried the
kids. "Go away, you wicked wolf!"
   And once more, in spite of all his hard work, the wolf found the door
locked against him. The wolf ran down to the mlll, and found a sack of flour.
He thrust his paws into it until they were pure white.
   "I'll trick them this time," he said. "Mmm! My mouth's watering already!
I'm hungry! My tummy's empty and my trousers are falling off! I'll swallow
these tender kids whole!" Again he knocked on the door.
   "Open the door! Open the door! It's Mother! I've just come back from
market! Open the door!" The voice seemed exactly like mother's, but the wary
kids quickly called out: "Mother, let us see your foot!" The wily wolf lifted
a snow white paw, and the kids, now reassured, threw open the door. What a
shock they received! An enormous set of jaws with sharp fangs growled
fiercely. Cruel claws reached out for their prey. The kids scattered in
terror. One dived under the table, while other crawled below the bed. Another
kid hid in the cupboard and one tried to hide in the oven, though the stove
was still hot. One kid crouched inside a barrel and one hid in the grandfather
clock. There he huddled, holding his breath, as the wolf hunted down his
brothers. One by one, the kids were pulled from their hiding places. All
except for the kid in the clock. The wicked wolf's appetite did not pass until
he had found them and swallowed each in a single gulp.
   The only one to escape was the little black kid, for the wolf never
imagined that there was room for a kid inside the very narrow grandfather
clock. In the meantime, Mother Goat had really come back from market.  When,
from a distance, she noticed that the door was ajar, she rushed home, her
heart in her mouth. She had a sinking feeling: what she feared had really
happened. The wicked wolf had gobbled up all her children. She dropped into a
chair, sobbing bitterly, but as she cried, the door of the grandfather clock
swung open and out ran the black kid.
   "Mummy! Mummy!" wept the kid. "It was terrible! The wolf came, and I think
he's eaten all my brothers!"
   "My poor child!" sobbed Mother Goat. "You're the only one left! That evil
brute has gobbled them all!"
   Not long after, Mother Goat and her son left the house to take a stroll in
the garden. Suddenly, she heard a low wheezing sound: someone was snoring
heavily. It was the greedy wolf. His feast of kids had been too much for him
and he was fast asleep, dead to the world. In a flash, Mother Goat had a
brainwave. She said to her son: "Run and fetch me a needle and thread and a
pair of scissors!" With these, she swiftly slit open the wolf's stomach. As
she had hoped, the ravenous brute had swallowed every kid whole. There they
were all stlll alive alive inside his tummy. One by one, out they popped from
the wolf's tummy.
   "Hurry! Hurry! Not a sound! We must get away before he wakens up! Wait!
Fetch me a heap of stones!" And so they filled the wolf's stomach with stones
and stitched it up again. The wolf woke later with a raging thirst.
   "What a heavy tummy I have!" he said. "I've eaten too much! All these
kids!" But when he went down the river to drink, his tummy full of stones
tipped him over and he fell into the water. The weight took him straight to
the bottom, and the goat and her kids shrieked with joy as he sank. The
wicked wolf was dead and the kids trotted home happily with Mother.
.