A Treasury of Best-Loved Fairy Tales Read online

  A

  TREASURY

  OF BEST-LOVED

  FAIRY

  TALES

  FALL RIVER PRESS and the distinctive Fall River Press logo

  are registered trademarks of Barnes & Noble, Inc.

  Compilation © 2017 by Sterling Publishing Co., Inc.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,

  stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means

  (including electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise)

  without prior written permission from the publisher.

  ISBN 978-1-4351-6495-6

  www.sterlingpublishing.com

  Contents

  Introduction

  The Frog-King

  The Emperor’s New Clothes

  Beauty and the Beast

  The Three Little Pigs

  The Invisible Prince

  The Sprig of Rosemary

  Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves

  The Troll’s Daughter

  The Nightingale

  The Flying Ship

  Tom Thumb

  East of the Sun and West of the Moon

  The Story of the Three Bears

  The Wounded Lion

  The Nixy

  The Steadfast Tin Soldier

  Dick Whittington

  The Biter Bit

  The Story of the Yara

  The Sparrow with the Slit Tongue

  Cinderella

  The Little Mermaid

  The Master Cat; or, Puss in Boots

  The Elf Maiden

  King Kojata

  Princess Minon-Minette

  Thumbelina

  The Sister of the Sun

  The Billy Goat and the King

  Blue Beard

  Rapunzel

  Fairy Gifts

  The White Dove

  The Strange Adventures of Little Maia

  The Little Match Girl

  The History of Jack the Giant-Killer

  The Dirty Shepherdess

  The King Who Would Be Stronger Than Fate

  The Man Without a Heart

  The Ugly Duckling

  Little Red Riding Hood

  The Story of Pretty Goldilocks

  The Steel Cane

  The Snuff-Box

  The Magic Ring

  The Red Shoes

  He Wins Who Waits

  Toads and Diamonds

  Heart of Ice

  The Story of Three Wonderful Beggars

  Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp

  Rumpelstiltskin

  The Snow Queen

  Jack and the Beanstalk

  Donkey Skin

  Little Lasse

  The History of Dwarf Long Nose

  The Princess and the Pea

  The Pied Piper of Hamelin

  The Wonderful Tune

  The Ogre

  Snow-White and the Seven Dwarfs

  The Child Who Came from an Egg

  The Tinder-Box

  The Rich Brother and the Poor Brother

  The Master Thief

  The Goblin Pony

  The Prince Who Wanted to See the World

  The Believing Husbands

  Big Claus and Little Claus

  The Seven Foals

  Hansel and Gretel

  The Simpleton

  Two in a Sack

  The Girl Who Trod on a Loaf

  Farmer Weatherbeard

  The Goldsmith’s Fortune

  The Dog and the Sparrow

  The Gold-Bearded Man

  The Wild Swans

  The Girl-Fish

  Sleeping Beauty

  The Owl and the Eagle

  The Nettle Spinner

  The Little Gray Man

  The Three Robes

  The Flying Trunk

  Dapplegrim

  The Partnership of the Thief and the Liar

  The Rogue and the Herdsman

  Elfin-Mount

  The Bremen Town-Musicians

  The Two Caskets

  The Sham Prince, or the Ambitious Tailor

  The Cat and the Mouse in Partnership

  Which Was the Foolishest?

  Grasp All, Lose All

  The Story of a Very Bad Boy

  The Fox and the Wolf

  How to Find Out a True Friend

  The Seven Voyages of Sinbad the Sailor

  Introduction

  In his preface to The Green Fairy Book (1892), Andrew Lang wrote that this third collection of fairy tales from around the world would likely be the last that he compiled. In fact, Lang would assemble another nine such collections in his colored fairy book series and another thirteen compilations of fairy tales and folk legends outside of it—a total of twenty-five volumes, appearing one per year between the publication of The Blue Fairy Book in 1889 and the posthumous publication of The Strange Story Book in 1913.

  Doubtless, Lang would have compiled even more collections but for his death in 1912. There certainly was an abundance of material available. As he noted of the many countries from whose fairy and folk tale traditions he drew, “however much these nations differ about trifles, they all agree in liking fairy tales.” The fairy tales that Lang collected were part of each culture’s oral storytelling tradition, meaning that they were far older than reading, writing, or the printed word. For each one that he selected there were doubtless dozens more that never were committed to the printed page and thus were lost to time as oral storytelling traditions died out. Insofar that these stories depended on their characters and the interactions that they recounted being familiar to the listener, you could say that fairy tales were a way that their tellers communicated with others about their culture. What’s more, we forget that most of what we call fairy tales were not concocted solely for the entertainment of children, as they are thought of today. They reflected the drama of life as it had been captured in the folklore and legends of the people who told them—even in their fantastic set pieces and supernatural events which never could have occurred in real life.

  This volume brings together 101 of the best-loved and most-treasured fairy tales to be immortalized in print. They were drawn not just from Lang’s colored fairy books but also from the stories set down by the Brothers Grimm, the eventyr of Hans Christian Andersen, the Tales of the Arabian Nights, and numerous other fairy tale collections—all of them sources that Lang drew on for his own work. Some of these tales are so well known that their plots and “morals” will be instantly familiar to most readers: “The Emperor’s New Clothes,” “Beauty and the Beast,” “Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves,” “Cinderella,” “Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp,” “The Little Mermaid,” “Rapunzel,” “The Ugly Duckling,” “Jack and the Beanstalk,” “The Pied Piper of Hamelin.” Those readers who have never read these tales on the printed page or heard them told aloud almost certainly will know them from their adaptation for film, cartoons, animated features, theater, ballet, and music. These tales are not only works of imagination themselves but sources of inspiration for works in other mediums.

  In addition to these stories, we have included some not as a familiar but no less popular in their countries of origin. It will come as no surprise to most readers that these stories feature characters and plot devices that are similar to those in the more familiar stories. Fairy and folk tales share universal themes and common approaches to their telling. It was this understanding that compelled Lang, in the preface to The Lilac Fairy Book, the last of his color fairy tale titles, to dispute the idea of new fairy tales: “Nobody can write a new fairy tale; you can only
mix up and dress up the old, old stories, and put the characters into new dresses.”

  Over the twenty-four years that Lang produced his fairy tale collections he took great pains to remind readers that, as he wrote in The Lilac Fairy Book, “I do not write the stories out of my own head.” Although his name appeared on the books, the stories themselves had no authors—or, perhaps, millions of authors. These stories are the end result of centuries of storytellers relating them, shaping their content with each new telling, altering their emphases to suit the circumstances in which they’re told, leaving some plot points and characters out over time and adding some new ones in. You, the reader, extend this process through your own reading of these tales—seeing them in your mind’s eye and imagining how their characters might look, or dress, or sound in their interactions with each other. And so it is that these best-loved fairy tales allow each and every one of us to contribute to the process by which these stories are preserved and their relevance for us maintained—every time we pick them up and read them to others or ourselves.

  The Frog-King

  THE BROTHERS GRIMM

  In old times when wishing still helped one, there lived a king whose daughters were all beautiful, but the youngest was so beautiful that the sun itself, which has seen so much, was astonished whenever it shone in her face. Close by the King’s castle lay a great dark forest, and under an old lime-tree in the forest was a well; and when the day was very warm, the King’s child went out into the forest and sat down by the side of the cool fountain, and when she was dull she took a golden ball, and threw it up on high and caught it, and this ball was her favorite plaything.

  Now it so happened that on one occasion the princess’s golden ball did not fall into the little hand which she was holding up for it, but on to the ground beyond, and rolled straight into the water. The King’s daughter followed it with her eyes, but it vanished; and the well was deep—so deep that the bottom could not be seen. On this she began to cry, and cried louder and louder, and could not be comforted.

  And as she thus lamented some one said to her, “What ails thee, King’s daughter? Thou weepest so that even a stone would show pity.”

  She looked round to the side from whence the voice came, and saw a frog stretching forth its thick, ugly head from the water. “Ah! old water-splasher, is it thou?” said she; “I am weeping for my golden ball, which has fallen into the well.”

  “Be quiet, and do not weep,” answered the frog, “I can help thee, but what wilt thou give me if I bring thy plaything up again?”

  “Whatever thou wilt have, dear frog,” said she—“My clothes, my pearls and jewels, and even the golden crown which I am wearing.”

  The frog answered, “I do not care for thy clothes, thy pearls and jewels, or thy golden crown, but if thou wilt love me and let me be thy companion and play-fellow, and sit by thee at thy little table, and eat off thy little golden plate, and drink out of thy little cup, and sleep in thy little bed—if thou wilt promise me this I will go down below, and bring thee thy golden ball up again.”

  “Oh yes,” said she, “I promise thee all thou wishest, if thou wilt but bring me my ball back again.” She, however, thought, “How the silly frog does talk! He lives in the water with the other frogs, and croaks, and can be no companion to any human being!”

  But the frog when he had received this promise, put his head into the water and sank down, and in a short while came swimmming up again with the ball in his mouth, and threw it on the grass. The King’s daughter was delighted to see her pretty plaything once more, and picked it up, and ran away with it. “Wait, wait,” said the frog. “Take me with thee. I can’t run as thou canst.” But what did it avail him to scream his croak, croak, after her, as loudly as he could? She did not listen to it, but ran home and soon forgot the poor frog, who was forced to go back into his well again.

  The next day when she had seated herself at table with the King and all the courtiers, and was eating from her little golden plate, something came creeping splish splash, splish splash, up the marble staircase, and when it had got to the top, it knocked at the door and cried, “Princess, youngest princess, open the door for me.”

  She ran to see who was outside, but when she opened the door, there sat the frog in front of it. Then she slammed the door to, in great haste, sat down to dinner again, and was quite frightened. The King saw plainly that her heart was beating violently, and said, “My child, what art thou so afraid of? Is there perchance a giant outside who wants to carry thee away?”

  “Ah, no,” replied she. “It is no giant but a disgusting frog.”

  “What does a frog want with thee?”

  “Ah, dear father, yesterday as I was in the forest sitting by the well, playing, my golden ball fell into the water. And because I cried so, the frog brought it out again for me, and because he so insisted, I promised him he should be my companion, but I never thought he would be able to come out of his water! And now he is outside there, and wants to come in to me.”

  In the meantime it knocked a second time, and cried,

  “Princess! youngest princess!

  Open the door for me!

  Dost thou not know what thou saidst to me

  Yesterday by the cool waters of the fountain?

  Princess, youngest princess!

  Open the door for me!”

  Then said the King, “That which thou hast promised must thou perform. Go and let him in.”

  She went and opened the door, and the frog hopped in and followed her, step by step, to her chair. There he sat and cried, “Lift me up beside thee.”

  She delayed, until at last the King commanded her to do it. When the frog was once on the chair he wanted to be on the table, and when he was on the table he said, “Now, push thy little golden plate nearer to me that we may eat together.”

  She did this, but it was easy to see that she did not do it willingly. The frog enjoyed what he ate, but almost every mouthful she took choked her.

  At length he said, “I have eaten and am satisfied; now I am tired, carry me into thy little room and make thy little silken bed ready, and we will both lie down and go to sleep.”

  The King’s daughter began to cry, for she was afraid of the cold frog which she did not like to touch, and which was now to sleep in her pretty, clean little bed. But the King grew angry and said, “He who helped thee when thou wert in trouble ought not afterwards to be despised by thee.”

  So she took hold of the frog with two fingers, carried him upstairs, and put him in a corner. But when she was in bed he crept to her and said, “I am tired, I want to sleep as well as thou, lift me up or I will tell thy father.”

  Then she was terribly angry, and took him up and threw him with all her might against the wall. “Now, thou wilt be quiet, odious frog,” said she.

  But when he fell down he was no frog but a King’s son with beautiful kind eyes. He by her father’s will was now her dear companion and husband. Then he told her how he had been bewitched by a wicked witch, and how no one could have delivered him from the well but herself, and that to-morrow they would go together into his kingdom. Then they went to sleep, and next morning when the sun awoke them, a carriage came driving up with eight white horses, which had white ostrich feathers on their heads, and were harnessed with golden chains, and behind stood the young King’s servant Faithful Henry.

  Faithful Henry had been so unhappy when his master was changed into a frog that he had caused three iron bands to be laid round his heart, lest it should burst with grief and sadness. The carriage was to conduct the young King into his Kingdom. Faithful Henry helped them both in, and placed himself behind again, and was full of joy because of this deliverance. And when they had driven a part of the way the King’s son heard a cracking behind him as if something had broken. So he turned round and cried, “Henry, the carriage is breaking.”

  “No, master, it is not the carriage. It is a band from my heart, which was put there in my great pain when you were a frog and i
mprisoned in the well.”

  Again and once again while they were on their way something cracked, and each time the King’s son thought the carriage was breaking; but it was only the bands which were springing from the heart of faithful Henry because his master was set free and was happy.

  The Emperor’s New Clothes

  HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

  Many years ago, there was an Emperor, who was so excessively fond of new clothes that he spent all his money in dress. He did not trouble himself in the least about his soldiers; nor did he care to go either to the theater or the chase, except for the opportunities then afforded him for displaying his new clothes. He had a different suit for each hour of the day; and as of any other king or emperor one is accustomed to say, “He is sitting in council,” it was always said of him, “the Emperor is sitting in his wardrobe.”

  Time passed away merrily in the large town which was his capital; strangers arrived every day at the court. One day, two rogues, calling themselves weavers, made their appearance. They gave out that they knew how to weave stuffs of the most beautiful colors and elaborate patterns, the clothes manufactured from which should have the wonderful property of remaining invisible to every one who was unfit for the office he held, or who was extraordinarily simple in character.

  “These must indeed be splendid clothes!” thought the Emperor. “Had I such a suit, I might, at once, find out what men in my realms are unfit for their office, and also be able to distinguish the wise from the foolish! This stuff must be woven for me immediately.” And he caused large sums of money to be given to both the weavers, in order that they might begin their work directly.

  So the two pretended weavers set up two looms, and affected to work very busily, though in reality they did nothing at all. They asked for the most delicate silk and the purest gold thread, put both into their own knapsacks, and then continued their pretended work at the empty looms until late at night.

  “I should like to know how the weavers are getting on with my cloth,” said the Emperor to himself, after some little time had elapsed; he was, however, rather embarrassed, when he remembered that a simpleton, or one unfit for his office, would be unable to see the manufacture. “To be sure,” he thought, “he had nothing to risk in his own person; but yet, he would prefer sending somebody else, to bring him intelligence about the weavers, and their work, before he troubled himself in the affair.” All the people throughout the city had heard of the wonderful property the cloth was to possess; and all were anxious to learn how wise, or how ignorant, their neighbors might prove to be.