"Oh, where is the little old hut in the forest and where is the poor old man? Oh, where is the little c.o.c.k and the little hen and the pretty brindled cow and where, oh, where am I?" she cried. At this the stranger wakened and, sitting up in bed, he called softly: "Do not run away. Alween! Alween! Come back! Come back! Do not be frightened.

We are all here. I was the old man with the long white beard and my servants yonder were the c.o.c.k, the hen and the brindled cow. You have saved our lives. You have set us free. You have delivered us from worse than death. I am a king's son, but I was bewitched by a wicked old fairy and forced, in the form of an old, old man, to live here in a hut in the forest all alone, except for my three servants, who were made to take the form of a c.o.c.k, of a hen, and of a brindled cow. Here we were obliged to stay until some one came to us who showed love and kindness toward my animals as well as toward myself. You have saved us. You have set us free and this great palace and all within it is yours."

And Alween married the king's son and they were very happy together for many, many years; but her sisters were forced to live lives of hardship and poverty until their hearts had grown more kindly toward all living creatures.

THE SLEEPING PRINCESS.

Once, a long, long time ago, there lived a brave king and a beautiful queen. They ruled the land wisely; they loved each other dearly, and they would have been happy but for one thing--they had no children.

At last there came a day of joy--a day that brought a little princess to the palace. The baby girl grew strong and rosy and the time for her christening drew near. Then came twelve good fairy G.o.dmothers to eat from the king's twelve golden plates, to drink from his twelve golden goblets and to bring twelve good wishes to his little daughter.

Now thirteen fairies lived in the kingdom; but, as the king had only twelve golden plates and twelve golden goblets, the thirteenth fairy was not invited. This made her very angry and she cried, "I will go to the christening! I will see the king's daughter and the king shall rue the day on which he dared to slight me!"

They named the little princess Briar Rose. The first fairy G.o.dmother gave her beauty. The second gave happiness. "Wisdom is my gift," said number three. "Grace shall be hers," cried four. "I give her wit,"

said five. The sixth G.o.dmother gave sympathy. The seventh gave wealth. The eighth said, "The princess shall have courage and shall be strong and brave." Number nine cried, "Health is hers as long as ever she may live." The tenth gave youth. "The Briar Rose shall love her people and she shall rule gently and where she goes joy shall go too,"

said number eleven. The twelfth fairy opened her lips to wish long life, when, just at that moment, the thirteenth fairy, who had not been invited, burst into the room. She pushed the good fairy aside and, before anyone could stop her, she cried out in a loud angry voice, "The princess shall p.r.i.c.k her finger with a spindle, on her fifteenth birthday, and shall die!" In a moment all was excitement. The jealous old fairy rushed from the palace, but the people dashed after her.

"Drive the wicked witch from the kingdom! Burn every spindle in the land!" they cried.

The twelfth fairy could not take away the bad wish, she could only soften it. "The princess shall not die," she said, "but she shall fall into a deep sleep that shall last for a hundred years."

The jealous old fairy was driven far, far away. The king ordered that every spindle in the whole land be burned. Then every one was happy once more, for now all thought that no harm could come near the little Briar Rose.

Day by day the princess grew more gentle and more beautiful and all who saw her loved her. Years flew by, the bad wish of the jealous old fairy was forgotten. All the people thought that some day the little princess would be their queen. She was a big girl now, almost a woman.

At last her fifteenth birthday came and, to amuse herself upon that very morning, she went wandering about the old palace all alone. She peeped into unused rooms; she took curious old treasures into her hands; she walked through long halls; she ran up and down dark corridors.

At last the princess reached the topmost tower of the great palace.

Here a flight of wooden steps led up to a little door that she had never before seen. The door was close shut, but a rusty key stood in the lock. She sprang upon the stairs. She turned the rusty key. The door swung slowly open and the princess saw that, in a far corner of a dimly lighted room, sat a little, bent old woman. She was spinning.

It was really the jealous old fairy, who had uttered the bad wish so many years ago, but the princess did not know this.

"Good morrow, good mother," she said. But the old woman kept on spinning.

"Who are you and where did you come from?" cried the princess. But the old woman kept on spinning.

"Why do you sit by yourself in this dark room? Have you no home? Have you no friends? Have you no fire to warm you, or light to cheer you?"

But the old woman kept on spinning.

At last, getting no answer to her questions, the little Briar Rose stepped across the threshold. She stood beside the old woman's chair, and, bending over it, called out in her sweet tones, "What is that I see in your hand, good mother, which whirls about so merrily?" But the old woman only kept on spinning.

"Let me take that curious thing," said the princess, reaching out her hand for the spindle.

Then for the first time the old woman lifted her ugly face. She rose quickly from her chair. She thrust the spindle into the girl's hand.

She opened her wicked old lips. "Take it," she croaked, "and may death go with it!"

Scarcely had the spindle touched the hand of the poor princess when a tiny stream of blood flowed from her little finger and she fell into a deep, deep sleep.

At that moment every one in the great palace fell fast asleep also.

The king slept upon his golden throne; the queen slept in her royal parlor; the judges slept on the council benches. Fast asleep fell lords and ladies of the court. Even the flies slept on the walls, and the fires died down upon the palace hearths. The dogs slept in their kennels, and the horses in their stalls. Outside the birds slept on the branches, and the drowsy bees slept in the drooping flowers. Not even a leaf stirred upon a single tree within the castle yard, but all was quiet and as still as death. A hedge of thorn trees shot up around the palace and, in a single night, the hedge grew so thick that not a c.h.i.n.k of light shone through it, and so tall that not even the tallest palace spire could be seen above it.

Years went by and Briar Rose was forgotten. No one living knew what was hidden behind the great hedge. Old tales were sometimes told of a beautiful princess who lay there asleep and, every now and then, a bold young prince would try to force his way through the hedge; but the thorns were so sharp that no one had ever caught so much as a glimpse even of the old castle, in which this beautiful princess slept.

At last there came a handsome prince, bolder than all the others, who cried, "I will break down this hedge! I will set this princess free!"

Now it happened that that very day ended the long sleep of the Briar Rose. All the hundred summers had just pa.s.sed by. The wish had come true and it was now time for the beautiful princess to awake, but the bold prince did not know this. He drew his sword. He rushed upon the hedge, when, lo! the sharp thorns turned aside; the branches opened and there before him stood the sleeping palace.

He burst the gates. Not even a leaf stirred upon a single tree within the castle yard. Not a dog bayed in the kennels. Not a horse whinnied in the stalls. Not a bird sang in the branches. Not a bee droned in the flowers. All was as still as death. He burst the palace doors.

There slept the king upon his golden throne. There slept the queen within her royal parlor. There slept the judges on the council benches. There slept the lords and ladies of the court; but the princess, the beautiful princess, where was she? He looked in all the splendid rooms. He searched the halls and corridors but no princess could he find. He climbed the winding stairway,--higher and higher up he went, higher and yet higher still. At last he reached the little chamber. Would he find her here? He turned the rusty key. The low door opened. He entered. There before him lay--could it be she, the sleeping beauty? Her eyes were closed, but her cheeks were pink like the wild roses at the gate. Her lips were red like the scarlet ribbon that she wore. Her black hair had grown to her very feet and lay about her like a splendid dress. "Would she waken?" thought the prince. He stooped! He caught his breath! He kissed her! The charm was broken!

Her eyes flew open and the princess smiled upon her prince.

Just at that moment the king rose from his golden throne. The queen swept from her royal parlor. The judges yawned on the council benches.

Awake came lords and ladies of the court. Again the fires leaped up upon the palace hearths. Again the flies buzzed on the window panes.

A wind blew through the castle yard. Again the birds sang in the branches and the bees droned in the flowers. Again the dogs barked in the kennels and the horses whinnied in the stalls.

The hundred years were past and all was life and joy once more. Out of the palace gates rode the bold prince, and beside him rode the happy princess, whom his kiss had waked.

TOPSY STORIES.

I. THE COMING OF TOPSY.

One night, when Alice was a very little girl, her papa came home early from the office. He carried a small basket in his hand, but when he saw Alice he put the basket behind his back; his eyes twinkled as he did so.

"Guess what I have brought you, little daughter," he said. "Something to play with."

Alice ran and caught fast hold of her papa's knees with her two chubby arms, and her eyes grew big and bright as she peeped around at the basket.

"Oh, what is it, papa? Do let me see."

"You must guess first," said her papa; "such a fine plaything."

"I know; it's a dolly!" cried Alice.

Papa laughed. "No, it's ever so much better than a dolly, for it's alive," he said.

"Oh, then it's a bird," cried the little girl.

But her papa only shook his head.

"Maybe it's a bunny, then," said Alice.

"No, no, you will never guess right," laughed papa, "so I will have to tell you. Just listen a moment," he said, as he held the basket close to Alice's ear.

The little girl stood on her tiptoes and fairly held her breath. Soon she heard a faint sound: "Meow! meow! meow!"

"It's a kitty! It's a kitty! Do open the basket quickly, papa," cried Alice, dancing up and down and clapping her hands. Then she tried to push her fingers under the cover.