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World Famous UK Fairy tales : THE ROSE TREE

Once upon a time, long long years ago, in the days when one had to be careful about witches, there lived a good man, whose young wife died, leaving him a baby girl.

Now this good man felt he could not look after the baby properly, so he married a young woman whose husband had died leaving her with a baby boy.

Thus the two children grew up together, and loved each other dearly, dearly.

But the boy’s mother was really a wicked witch-woman, and so jealous that she wanted all the boy’s love for herself, and when the girl-baby grew white as milk, with cheeks like roses and lips like cherries, and when her hair, shining like golden silk, hung down to her feet so that her father and all the neighbours began to praise her looks, the stepmother fairly hated her, and did all in her power to spoil her looks. She would set the child hard tasks, and send her out in all weathers to do difficult messages, and if they were not well performed would beat her and scold her cruelly.

Now one cold winter evening when the snow was drifting fast, and the wild rose tree in the garden under which the children used to play in summer was all brown and barren save for snowflake flowers, the stepmother said to the little girl:

“Child! go and buy me a bunch of candles at the grocer’s. Here is some money; go quickly, and don’t loiter by the way.”

So the little girl took the money and set off quickly through the snow, for already it was growing dark. Now there was such a wind blowing that it nearly blew her off her feet, and as she ran her beautiful hair got all tangled and almost tripped her up. However, she got the candles, paid for them, and started home again. But this time the wind was behind her and blew all her beautiful golden hair in front of her like a cloud, so that she could not see her steps, and, coming to a stile, had to stop and put down the bundle of candles in order to see how to get over it. And when she was climbing it a big black dog came by and ran off with the bunch of candles! Now she was so afraid of her stepmother that she durst not go home, but turned back and bought another bunch of candles at the grocer’s, and when she arrived at the stile once more, the same thing happened. A big black dog came down the road and ran away with the bunch of candles. So yet once again she journeyed back to the grocer’s through wind and snow, and, with her last penny, bought yet another bunch of candles. To no purpose, for alas, and alack-a-day! when she laid them down in order to part her beautiful golden hair and to see how to get over the stile, a big black dog ran away with them.

So nothing was left save to go back to her stepmother in fear and trembling. But, for a wonder, her stepmother did not seem very angry. She only scolded her for being so late, for, see you, her father and her little playmate had gone to their beds and were in the Land of Nod.

Then she said to the child, “I must take the tangles out of your hair before you go to sleep. Come, put your head on my lap.”

So the little girl put her head on her stepmother’s lap, and, lo and behold! her beautiful yellow-silk hair rolled right over the woman’s knees and lay upon the ground.

Then the beauty of it made the stepmother more jealous than before, so she said, “I cannot part your hair properly on my knee, fetch me a billet of wood.”

So the little girl fetched one. Then said the stepmother, “Your hair is so thick I cannot part it with a comb; fetch me an axe!”

So the child fetched an axe.

“Now,” said that wicked, wicked woman, “lay your head down on the billet while I part your hair.”

And the child did as she was bid without fear; and lo! the beautiful little golden head was off in a second, by one blow of the axe.

Now the wicked stepmother had thought it all out before, so she took the poor little dead girl out to the garden, dug a hollow in the snow under the rose tree, and said to herself, “When spring comes and the snow melts if people find her bones, they will say she lost her way and fell asleep in the snow.”

But first, because she was a wicked witch-woman, knowing spells and charms, she took out the heart of the little girl and made it into two savoury pasties, one for her husband’s breakfast and one for the little boy’s, for thus would the love they bore to the little girl become hers. Nevertheless, she was mistaken, for when morning came and the little child could not be found, the father sent away his breakfast barely tasted, and the little boy wept so that he could eat nothing.

So they grieved and grieved. And when the snow melted and they found the bones of the poor child, they said, “She must have lost her way that dark night going to the grocer’s to buy candles.” So they buried the bones under the children’s rose tree, and every day the little boy sate there and wept and wept for his lost playmate.

Now when summer came the wild rose tree flowered. It was covered with white roses, and amongst the flowers there sate a beautiful white bird. And it sang and sang and sang like an angel out of heaven; but what it sang the little boy could never make out, for he could hardly see for weeping, hardly hear for sobbing.

So at last the beautiful white bird unfolded its broad white wings and flew to a cobbler’s shop, where a myrtle bush hung over the man and his last, on which he was making a dainty little pair of rose-red shoes. Then it perched on a bough and sang ever so sweetly:

“Stepmother slew me,
Father nigh ate me,
He whom I dearly love
Sits below, I sing above,
Stick! Stock! Stone dead!”
“Sing that beautiful song again,” said the cobbler. “It is better than a nightingale’s.”

“That will I gladly,” sang the bird, “if you will give me the little rose-red shoes you are making.”

And the cobbler gave them willingly, so the white bird sang its song once more. Then with the rose-red shoes in one foot it flew to an ash tree that grew close beside a goldsmith’s bench, and sang:

“Stepmother slew me,
Father nigh ate me,
He whom I dearly love
Sits below, I sing above,
Stick! Stock! Stone dead!”
“Oh, what a beautiful song!” cried the goldsmith.

“Sing again, dear bird, it is sweeter than a nightingale’s.”

“That will I gladly,” sang the bird, “if you will give me the gold chain you’re making.”

And the goldsmith gave the bauble willingly, and the bird sang its song once more. Then with the rose-red shoes in one foot and the golden chain in the other, the bird flew to an oak tree which overhung the mill stream, beside which three millers were busy picking out a millstone, and, perching on a bough, sang its song ever so sweetly:

“My stepmother slew me,
My father nigh ate me,
He whom I dearly love
Sits below, I sing above,
Stick!—”
Just then one of the millers put down his tool and listened.

“Stock!” sang the bird.

And the second miller put aside his tool and listened.

“Stone,” sang the bird.

Then the third miller put aside his tool and listened.

“Dead!” sang the bird so sweetly that with one accord the millers looked up and cried with one voice:

“Oh, what a beautiful song! Sing it again, dear bird, it is sweeter than a nightingale’s.”

“That will I gladly,” answered the bird, “if you will hang the millstone you are picking round my neck.”

So the millers hung it as they were asked; and when the song was finished, the bird spread its wide white wings and, with the millstone round its neck and the little rose-red shoes in one foot, the golden chain in the other, it flew back to the rose tree. But the little playmate was not there; he was inside the house eating his dinner.

Then the bird flew to the house, and rattled the millstone about the eaves until the stepmother cried, “Hearken! How it thunders!”

So the little boy ran out to see, and down dropped the dainty rose-red shoes at his feet.

“See what fine things the thunder has brought!” he cried with glee as he ran back.

Then the white bird rattled the millstone about the eaves once more, and once again the stepmother said, “Hearken! How it thunders!”

So this time the father went out to see, and down dropped the golden chain about his neck.

“It is true,” he said when he came back. “The thunder does bring fine things!”

Then once more the white bird rattled the millstone about the eaves, and this time the stepmother said hurriedly, “Hark! there it is again! Perhaps it has got something for me!”

Then she ran out; but the moment she stepped outside the door, down fell the millstone right on her head and killed her.

So that was an end of her. And after that the little boy was ever so much happier, and all the summer time he sate with his little rose-coloured shoes under the wild rose tree and listened to the white bird’s song. But when winter came and the wild rose tree was all barren and bare save for snowflake flowers, the white bird came no longer and the little boy grew tired of waiting for it. So one day he gave up altogether, and they buried him under the rose tree beside his little playmate.

Now when the spring came and the rose tree blossomed, the flowers were no longer white. They were edged with rose colour like the little boy’s shoes, and in the centre of each blossom there was a beautiful tuft of golden silk like the little girl’s hair.

And if you look in a wild rose you will find these things there still.

MASTER OF ALL MASTERS | Children Story

A Girl once went to the fair to hire herself for servant. At last a funny-looking old gentleman engaged her and took her home to his house. When she got there, he told her that he had something to teach her, for that in his house he had his own names for things.

He said to her, “What will you call me?”

“Master or mister, or whatever you please, sir,” says she.

He said, “You must call me ‘master of all masters.’ And what would you call this?” pointing to his bed.

“Bed or couch, or whatever you please, sir.”

“No, that’s my ‘barnacle’. And what do you call these?” said he, pointing to his pantaloons.

“Breeches or trousers, or whatever you please, sir.”

“You must call them ’squibs and crackers.’ And what would you call her?” pointing to the cat.

“Cat or kit, or whatever you please, sir.’

“You must call her ‘white-faced simminy’ And this now,” showing the fire, “what would you call this?”

“Fire or flame, or whatever you please, sir.”

“You must call it ‘hot cockalorum’; and what this?” he went on, pointing to the water.

“Water or wet, or whatever you please, sir.”

“No, ‘pondalorum’ is its name. And what do you call all this?” asked he, as he pointed to the house.

“House or cottage, or whatever you please, sir.”

“You must call it ‘high topper mountain.’”

That very night the servant woke her master up in a fright and said, “Master of all masters, get out of your barnacle and put on your squibs and crackers. For white-faced simminy has got a spark of hot cockalorum on its tail, and unless you get some pondalorum high topper mountain will be all on hot cockalorum….”

That’s all!!

Story in a poem :LAWKAMERCYME

There was an old woman, as I’ve heard tell,
She went to the market her eggs for to sell;
She went to the market, all on a market-day,
And she fell asleep on the king’s highway.

There came by a pedlar, whose name it was Stout,
He cut all her petticoats all round about;
He cut her petticoats up to the knees,
Which made the old woman to shiver and freeze.

When this old woman first did awake,
She ‘gan to shiver, she ‘gan to shake;
She ‘gan to wonder, she ‘gan to cry—
“Lawkamercyme! this is none of I!

“But if it be I, as I do hope it be,
I’ve a little dog at home, and sure he’ll know me;
If it be I, he’ll wag his little tail,
And if it be not I, then he’ll bark and wail.”

Home went the old woman, all in the dark;
Up got the little dog, and he began to bark,
He began to bark, and she began to cry—
“Lawkamercyme! this is none of I!”

World Famous giant tales : MOLLY WHUPPIE AND THE DOUBLE-FACED GIANT

Once upon a time there was a man and his wife who were not over rich. And they had so many children that they couldn’t find meat for them; so, as the three youngest were girls, they just took them out to the forest one day, and left them there to fend for themselves as best they might.

Now the two eldest were just ordinary girls, so they cried a bit and felt afraid; but the youngest, whose name was Molly Whuppie, was bold, so she counselled her sisters not to despair, but to try and find some house where they might get a night’s lodging. So they set off through the forest, and journeyed, and journeyed, and journeyed, but never a house did they see. It began to grow dark, her sisters were faint with hunger, and even Molly Whuppie began to think of supper. At last in the distance they saw a great big light, and made for it.

Now when they drew near they saw that it came from a huge window in a huge house.

“It will be a giant’s house,” said the two elder girls, trembling with fright.

“If there were two giants in it I mean to have my supper,” quoth Molly Whuppie, and knocked at a huge door, as bold as brass. It was opened by the giant’s wife, who shook her head when Molly Whuppie asked for victuals and a night’s lodging.

“You wouldn’t thank me for it,” she said, “for my man is a giant, and when he comes home he will kill you of a certainty.”

“But if you give us supper at once,” says Molly craftily, “we shall have finished it before the giant comes home; for we are very sharp-set.”

Now the giant’s wife was not unkindly; besides, her three daughters, who were just of an age with Molly and her sisters, tugged at her skirts well pleased; so she took the girls in, set them by the fire, and gave them each a bowl of bread and milk. But they had hardly begun to gobble it up before the door burst open, and a fearful giant strode in saying:

“Fee-fi-fo-fum,

I smell the smell of some earthly one.”

“Don’t put yourself about, my dear,” said the giant’s wife, trying to make the best of it. “See for yourself. They are only three poor little girlies like our girlies. They were cold and hungry so I gave them some supper; but they have promised to go away as soon as they have finished. Now be a good giant and don’t touch them. They’ve eaten of our salt, so don’t you be at fault!”

Now this giant was not at all a straightforward giant. He was a double-faced giant. So he only said,

“Umph!”

and remarked that as they had come, they had better stay all night, since they could easily sleep with his three daughters. And after he had had his supper he made himself quite pleasant, and plaited chains of straw for the little strangers to wear round their necks, to match the gold chains his daughters wore. Then he wished them all pleasant dreams and sent them to bed.

Dear me! He was a double-faced giant!

But Molly Whuppie, the youngest of the three girls, was not only bold, she was clever. So when she was in bed, instead of going to sleep like the others, she lay awake and thought, and thought, and thought; until at last she up ever so softly, took off her own and her sisters’ straw chains, put them round the neck of the ogre’s daughters, and placed their gold chains round her own and her sisters’ necks.

And even then she did not go to sleep, but lay still and waited to see if she was wise; and she was! For in the very middle of the night, when everybody else was dead asleep and it was pitch dark, in comes the giant, all stealthy, feels for the straw chains, twists them tight round the wearers’ necks, half strangles his daughters, drags them on to the floor, and beats them till they were quite dead; so, all stealthy and satisfied, goes back to his own bed, thinking he had been very clever.

But he was no match, you see, for Molly Whuppie; for she at once roused her sisters, bade them be quiet, and follow her. Then she slipped out of the giant’s house and ran, and ran, and ran until the dawn broke and they found themselves before another great house. It was surrounded by a wide deep moat, which was spanned by a drawbridge. But the drawbridge was up. However, beside it hung a Single-Hair rope over which any one very light-footed could cross.

Now Molly’s sisters were feared to try it; besides, they said that for aught they knew the house might be another giant’s house, and they had best keep away.

“Taste and try,” says Molly Whuppie, laughing, and was over the Bridge of a Single Hair before you could say knife. And, after all, it was not a giant’s house but a King’s castle. Now it so happened that the very giant whom Molly had tricked was the terror of the whole country-side, and it was to gain safety from him that the drawbridge was kept up, and the Bridge of a Single Hair had been made. So when the sentry heard Molly Whuppie’s tale, he took her to the King and said:

“My lord! Here is a girlie who has tricked the giant!”

Then the King when he had heard the story said, “You are a clever girl, Molly Whuppie, and you managed very well; but if you could manage still better and steal the giant’s sword, in which part of his strength lies, I will give your eldest sister in marriage to my eldest son.”

Well! Molly Whuppie thought this would be a very good downsitting for her sister, so she said she would try.

So that evening, all alone, she ran across the Bridge of One Hair, and ran and ran till she came to the giant’s house. The sun was just setting, and shone on it so beautifully that Molly Whuppie thought it looked like a castle in Spain, and could hardly believe that such a dreadful, double-faced giant lived within. However, she knew he did; so she slipped into the house unbeknownst, stole up to the giant’s room, and crept in behind the bed. By and by the giant came home, ate a huge supper, and came crashing up the stairs to his bed. But Molly kept very still and held her breath. So after a time he fell asleep, and soon he began to snore. Then Molly crept out from under the bed, ever so softly, and crept up the bed-clothes, and crept past his great snoring face, and laid hold of the sword that hung above it. But alas! as she jumped from the bed in a hurry, the sword rattled in the scabbard. The noise woke the giant, and up he jumped and ran after Molly, who ran as she had never run before, carrying the sword over her shoulder. And he ran, and she ran, and they both ran, until they came to the Bridge of One Hair. Then she fled over it light-footed, balancing the sword, but he couldn’t. So he stopped, foaming at the mouth with rage, and called after her:

“Woe worth you, Molly Whuppie! Never you dare to come again!”

And she, turning her head about as she sped over the One Hair Bridge, laughed lightly:

“Twice yet, gaffer, will I come to the Castle in Spain!”

So Molly gave the sword to the King, and, as he had promised, his eldest son wedded her eldest sister.

But after the marriage festivities were over the King says again to Molly Whuppie:

“You’re a main clever girl, Molly, and you have managed very well, but if you could manage still better and steal the giant’s purse, in which part of his strength lies, I will marry my second son to your second sister. But you need to be careful, for the giant sleeps with the purse under his pillow!”

Well! Molly Whuppie thought this would be a very good downsitting, indeed, for her second sister, so she said she would try her luck.

So that evening, just at sunsetting, she ran over the One Hair Bridge, and ran, and ran, and ran until she came to the giant’s house looking for all the world like a castle in the air, all ruddy and golden and glinting. She could scarce believe such a dreadful double-faced giant lived within. However, she knew he did; so she slipped into the house unbeknownst, stole up to the giant’s room, and crept in below the giant’s bed. By and by the giant came home, ate a hearty supper, and then came crashing upstairs, and soon fell a-snoring. Then Molly Whuppie slipped from under the bed, and slipped up the bed-clothes, and reaching out her hand slipped it under the pillow, and got hold of the purse. But the giant’s head was so heavy on it she had to tug and tug away. At last out it came, she fell backward over the bedside, the purse opened, and some of the money fell out with a crash. The noise wakened the giant, and she had only time to grab the money off the floor, when he was after her. How they ran, and ran, and ran, and ran! At last she reached the One Hair Bridge and, with the purse in one hand, the money in the other, she sped across it while the giant shook his fist at her and cried:

“Woe worth you, Molly Whuppie! Never you dare to come again!”

And she, turning her head, laughed lightly:

“Yet once more, gaffer, will I come to the Castle in Spain.”

So she took the purse to the King, and he ordered a splendid marriage feast for his second son and her second sister.

But after the wedding was over the King says to her, says he:

“Molly! You are the most main clever girl in the world; but if you would do better yet, and steal me from his finger the giant’s ring, in which all his strength lies, I will give you my dearest, youngest, handsomest son for yourself.”

Now Molly thought the King’s son was the nicest young prince she had ever seen, so she said she would try, and that evening, all alone, she sped across the One Hair Bridge as light as a feather, and ran, and ran, and ran until she came to the giant’s house all lit up with the red setting sun like any castle in the air. And she slipped inside, stole upstairs, and crept under the bed in no time. And the giant came in, and supped, and crashed up to bed, and snored. Oh! he snored louder than ever!

But you know he was a double-faced giant; so perhaps he snored louder on purpose. For no sooner had Molly Whuppie began to tug at his ring than … My!…

He had her fast between his finger and thumb. And he sate up in bed, and shook his head at her and said, “Molly Whuppie, you are a main clever girl! Now, if I had done as much ill to you as you have done to me, what would you do to me?”

Then Molly thought for a moment and she said, “I’d put you in a sack, and I’d put the cat inside with you, and I’d put the dog inside with you, and I’d put a needle and thread and a pair of shears inside with you, and I’d hang you up on a nail, and I’d go to the wood and cut the thickest stick I could get, and come home and take you down and bang you, and bang, and bang, and bang you till you were dead!”

“Right you are!” cried the giant gleefully, “and that’s just what I’ll do to you!”

So he got a sack and put Molly into it with the dog and the cat, and the needle and thread and the shears, and hung her on a nail in the wall, and went out to the wood to choose a stick.

Then Molly Whuppie began to laugh like anything, and the dog joined in with barks, and the cat with mews.

Now the giant’s wife was sitting in the next room, and when she heard the commotion she went in to see what was up.

“Whatever is the matter?” quoth she.

“Nothing, ‘m,” quoth Molly Whuppie from inside the sack, laughing like anything. “Ho, ho! Ha, ha! If you saw what we see you’d laugh too. Ho, ho! Ha, ha!”

And no matter how the giant’s wife begged to know what she saw, there never was any answer but, “Ho, ho! Ha, ha! Could ye but see what I see!!!”

At last the giant’s wife begged Molly to let her see, so Molly took the shears, cut a hole in the sack, jumped out, helped the giant’s wife in, and sewed up the hole! For of course she hadn’t forgotten to take out the needle and thread with her.

Now, just at that very moment, the giant burst in, and Molly had barely time to hide behind the door before he rushed at the sack, tore it down, and began to batter it with a huge tree he had cut in the wood.

“Stop! stop!” cried his wife. “It’s me! It’s me!”

But he couldn’t hear, for, see you, the dog and the cat had tumbled one on the top of the other, and such a growling and spitting, and yelling and caterwauling you never heard! It was fair deafening, and the giant would have gone on battering till his wife was dead had he not caught sight of Molly Whuppie escaping with the ring which he had left on the table.

Well, he threw down the tree and ran after her. Never was such a race. They ran, and they ran, and they ran, and they ran, until they came to the One Hair Bridge. And then, balancing herself with the ring like a hoop, Molly Whuppie sped over the bridge light as a feather, but the giant had to stand on the other side, and shake his fist at her, and cry louder than ever:

“Woe worth you, Molly Whuppie! Never you dare to come again!”

And she, turning her head back as she sped, laughed gaily:

“Never more, gaffer, will I come to the castle in the air!”

So she took the ring to the King, and she and the handsome young prince were married, and no one ever saw the double-faced giant again.