The Crimson Fairy Book
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Unknown >> The Crimson Fairy Book
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But the king would not listen to his son's voice, for he had always
been accustomed to depend on his own judgment. He let the
unhappy Omar be dragged from the hall, whilst he himself retired
with Labakan to his own rooms, full of anger with the queen his
wife, in spite of their many years of happy life together.
The queen, on her side, was plunged in grief, for she felt certain
that an impostor had won her husband's heart and taken the place of
her real son.
When the first shock was over she began to think how she could
manage to convince the king of his mistake. Of course it would be
a difficult matter, as the man who declared he was Omar had
produced the dagger as a token, besides talking of all sorts of things
which happened when he was a child. She called her oldest and
wisest ladies about her and asked their advice, but none of them had
any to give. At last one very clever old woman said: 'Did not the
young man who brought the dagger call him whom your majesty
believes to be your son Labakan, and say he was a crazy tailor? '
'Yes,' replied the queen; 'but what of that?'
'Might it not be,' said the old lady, 'that the impostor has called your
real son by his own name? If this should be the case, I know of a
capital way to find out the truth.'
And she whispered some words to the queen, who seemed much
pleased, and went off at once to see the king.
Now the queen was a very wise woman, so she pretended to think
she might have made a mistake, and only begged to be allowed to
put a test to the two young men to prove which was the real prince.
The king, who was feeling much ashamed of the rage he had been
in with his dear wife, consented at once, and she said: 'No doubt
others would make them ride or shoot, or something of that sort,
but every one learns these things. I wish to set them a task which
requires sharp wits and clever hands, and I want them to try which
of them can best make a kaftan and pair of trousers.'
The king laughed. 'No, no, that will never do. Do you suppose my
son would compete with that crazy tailor as to which could make
the best clothes? Oh, dear, no, that won't do at all.'
But the queen claimed his promise, and as he was a man of his
word the king gave in at last. He went to his son and begged that
he would humour his mother, who had set her heart on his making a
kaftan.
The worthy Labakan laughed to himself. 'If that is all she wants,'
thought he, 'her majesty will soon be pleased to own me.'
Two rooms were prepared, with pieces of material, scissors,
needles and threads, and each young man was shut up in one of
them.
The king felt rather curious as to what sort of garment his son
would make, and the queen, too, was very anxious as to the result
of her experiment.
On the third day they sent for the two young men and their work.
Labakan came first and spread out his kaftan before the eyes of the
astonished king. 'See, father,' he said; 'see, my honoured mother, if
this is not a masterpiece of work. I'll bet the court tailor himself
cannot do better.
The queen smiled and turned to Omar: 'And what have you done,
my son?'
Impatiently he threw the stuff and scissors down on the floor. 'I
have been taught how to manage a horse, to draw a sword, and to
throw a lance some sixty paces, but I never learnt to sew, and such
a thing would have been thought beneath the notice of the pupil of
Elfi Bey, the ruler of Cairo.'
'Ah, true son of your father,' cried the queen; 'if only I might
embrace you and call you son! Forgive me, my lord and husband,'
she added, turning to the king, 'for trying to find out the truth in this
way. Do you not see yourself now which is the prince and which
the tailor? Certainly this kaftan is a very fine one, but I should like
to know what master taught this young man how to make clothes.'
The king sat deep in thought, looking now at his wife and now at
Labakan, who was doing his best to hide his vexation at his own
stupidity. At last the king said: 'Even this trial does not satisfy me;
but happily I know of a sure way to discover whether or not I have
been deceived.'
He ordered his swiftest horse to be saddled, mounted, and rode off
alone into a forest at some little distance. Here lived a kindly fairy
called Adolzaide, who had often helped the kings of his race with
her good advice, and to her he betook himself.
In the middle of the forest was a wide open space surrounded by
great cedar trees, and this was supposed to be the fairy's favourite
spot. When the king reached this place he dismounted, tied his
horse to the tree, and standing in the middle of the open place said:
'If it is true that you have helped my ancestors in their time of need,
do not despise their descendant, but give me counsel, for that of
men has failed me.'
He had hardly finished speaking when one of the cedar trees
opened, and a veiled figure all dressed in white stepped from it.
'I know your errand, King Sached,' she said; 'it is an honest one, and
I will give you my help. Take these two little boxes and let the two
men who claim to be your son choose between them. I know that
the real prince will make no mistake.'
She then handed him two little boxes made of ivory set with gold
and pearls. On the lid of each (which the king vainly tried to open)
was an inscription in diamonds. On one stood the words 'Honour
and Glory,' and on the other 'Wealth and Happiness.'
'It would be a hard choice,' thought the king as he rode home.
He lost no time in sending for the queen and for all his court, and
when all were assembled he made a sign, and Labakan was led in.
With a proud air he walked up to the throne, and kneeling down,
asked:
'What does my lord and father command?'
The king replied: 'My son, doubts have been thrown on your claim
to that name. One of these boxes contains the proofs of your birth.
Choose for yourself. No doubt you will choose right.'
He then pointed to the ivory boxes, which were placed on two little
tables near the throne.
Labakan rose and looked at the boxes. He thought for some
minutes, and then said: 'My honoured father, what can be better
than the happiness of being your son, and what nobler than the
riches of your love. I choose the box with the words "Wealth and
Happiness."'
'We shall see presently if you have chosen the right one. For the
present take a seat there beside the Pacha of Medina,' replied the
king.
Omar was next led in, looking sad and sorrowful. He threw himself
down before the throne and asked what was the king's pleasure.
The king pointed out the two boxes to him, and he rose and went to
the tables. He carefully read the two mottoes and said: 'The last
few days have shown me how uncertain is happiness and how easily
riches vanish away. Should I lose a crown by it I make my choice
of "Honour and Glory."'
He laid his hand on the box as he spoke, but the king signed to him
to wait, and ordered Labakan to come to the other table and lay his
hand on the box he had chosen.
Then the king rose from his throne, and in solemn silence all present
rose too, whilst he said: 'Open the boxes, and may Allah show us
the truth.'
The boxes were opened with the greatest ease. In the one Omar
had chosen lay a little gold crown and sceptre on a velvet cushion.
In Labakan's box was found--a large needle with some thread!
The king told the two young men to bring him their boxes. They
did so. He took the crown in his hand, and as he held it, it grew
bigger and bigger, till it was as large as a real crown. He placed it
on the head of his son Omar, kissed him on the forehead, and
placed him on his right hand. Then, turning to Labakan, he said:
'There is an old proverb, "The cobbler sticks to his last." It seems as
though you were to stick to your needle. You have not deserved
any mercy, but I cannot be harsh on this day. I give you your life,
but I advise you to leave this country as fast as you can.'
Full of shame, the unlucky tailor could not answer. He flung
himself down before Omar, and with tears in his eyes asked: 'Can
you forgive me, prince?'
'Go in peace,' said Omar as he raised him.
'Oh, my true son!' cried the king as he clasped the prince in his
arms, whilst all the pachas and emirs shouted, 'Long live Prince
Omar!'
In the midst of all the noise and rejoicing Labakan slipped off with
his little box under his arm. He went to the stables, saddled his old
horse, Murva, and rode out of the gate towards Alexandria.
Nothing but the ivory box with its diamond motto was left to show
him that the last few weeks had not been a dream.
When he reached Alexandria he rode up to his old master's door.
When he entered the shop, his master came forward to ask what
was his pleasure, but as soon as he saw who it was he called his
workmen, and they all fell on Labakan with blows and angry words,
till at last he fell, half fainting, on a heap of old clothes.
The master then scolded him soundly about the stolen robe, but in
vain Labakan told him he had come to pay for it and offered three
times its price. They only fell to beating him again, and at last
pushed him out of the house more dead than alive.
He could do nothing but remount his horse and ride to an inn. Here
he found a quiet place in which to rest his bruised and battered
limbs and to think over his many misfortunes. He fell asleep fully
determined to give up trying to be great, but to lead the life of an
honest workman.
Next morning he set to work to fulfil his good resolutions. He sold
his little box to a jeweller for a good price, bought a house and
opened a workshop. Then he hung up a sign with, 'Labakan,
Tailor,' over his door, and sat down to mend his own torn clothes
with the very needle which had been in the ivory box.
After a while he was called away, and when he went back to his
work he found a wonderful thing had happened! The needle was
sewing away all by itself and making the neatest little stitches, such
as Labakan had never been able to make even at his best.
Certainly even the smallest gift of a kind fairy is of great value, and
this one had yet another advantage, for the thread never came to an
end, however much the needle sewed.
Labakan soon got plenty of customers. He used to cut out the
clothes, make the first stitch with the magic needle, and then leave
it to do the rest. Before long the whole town went to him, for his
work was both so good and so cheap. The only puzzle was how he
could do so much, working all alone, and also why he worked with
closed doors.
And so the promise on the ivory box of 'Wealth and Happiness'
came true for him, and when he heard of all the brave doings of
Prince Omar, who was the pride and darling of his people and the
terror of his enemies, the ex-prince thought to himself, 'After all, I
am better off as a tailor, for "Honour and Glory" are apt to be very
dangerous things.'
The Colony Of Cats
Long, long ago, as far back as the time when animals spoke, there
lived a community of cats in a deserted house they had taken
possession of not far from a large town. They had everything they
could possibly desire for their comfort, they were well fed and well
lodged, and if by any chance an unlucky mouse was stupid enough
to venture in their way, they caught it, not to eat it, but for the pure
pleasure of catching it. The old people of the town related how
they had heard their parents speak of a time when the whole
country was so overrun with rats and mice that there was not so
much as a grain of corn nor an ear of maize to be gathered in the
fields; and it might be out of gratitude to the cats who had rid the
country of these plagues that their descendants were allowed to live
in peace. No one knows where they got the money to pay for
everything, nor who paid it, for all this happened so very long ago.
But one thing is certain, they were rich enough to keep a servant;
for though they lived very happily together, and did not scratch nor
fight more than human beings would have done, they were not
clever enough to do the housework themselves, and preferred at all
events to have some one to cook their meat, which they would have
scorned to eat raw. Not only were they very difficult to please
about the housework, but most women quickly tired of living alone
with only cats for companions, consequently they never kept a
servant long; and it had become a saying in the town, when anyone
found herself reduced to her last penny: 'I will go and live with the
cats,' and so many a poor woman actually did.
Now Lizina was not happy at home, for her mother, who was a
widow, was much fonder of her elder daughter; so that often the
younger one fared very badly, and had not enough to eat, while the
elder could have everything she desired, and if Lizina dared to
complain she was certain to have a good beating.
At last the day came when she was at the end of her courage and
patience, and exclaimed to her mother and sister:
'As you hate me so much you will be glad to be rid of me, so I am
going to live with the cats!'
'Be off with you!' cried her mother, seizing an old broom-handle
from behind the door. Poor Lizina did not wait to be told twice,
but ran off at once and never stopped till she reached the door of
the cats' house. Their cook had left them that very morning, with
her face all scratched, the result of such a quarrel with the head of
the house that he had very nearly scratched out her eyes. Lizina
therefore was warmly welcomed, and she set to work at once to
prepare the dinner, not without many misgivings as to the tastes of
the cats, and whether she would be able to satisfy them.
Going to and fro about her work, she found herself frequently
hindered by a constant succession of cats who appeared one after
another in the kitchen to inspect the new servant; she had one in
front of her feet, another perched on the back of her chair while she
peeled the vegetables, a third sat on the table beside her, and five or
six others prowled about among the pots and pans on the shelves
against the wall. The air resounded with their purring, which meant
that they were pleased with their new maid, but Lizina had not yet
learned to understand their language, and often she did not know
what they wanted her to do. However, as she was a good,
kindhearted girl, she set to work to pick up the little kittens which
tumbled about on the floor, she patched up quarrels, and nursed on
her lap a big tabby--the oldest of the community--which had a lame
paw. All these kindnesses could hardly fail to make a favourable
impression on the cats, and it was even better after a while, when
she had had time to grow accustomed to their strange ways. Never
had the house been kept so clean, the meats so well served, nor the
sick cats so well cared for. After a time they had a visit from an old
cat, whom they called their father, who lived by himself in a barn at
the top of the hill, and came down from time to time to inspect the
little colony. He too was much taken with Lizina, and inquired, on
first seeing her: 'Are you well served by this nice, black-eyed little
person?' and the cats answered with one voice: 'Oh, yes, Father
Gatto, we have never had so good a servant!'
At each of his visits the answer was always the same; but after a
time the old cat, who was very observant, noticed that the little
maid had grown to look sadder and sadder. 'What is the matter, my
child has any one been unkind to you?' he asked one day, when he
found her crying in her kitchen. She burst into tears and answered
between her sobs: 'Oh, no! they are all very good to me; but I long
for news from home, and I pine to see my mother and my sister.'
Old Gatto, being a sensible old cat, understood the little servant's
feelings. 'You shall go home,' he said, 'and you shall not come back
here unless you please. But first you must be rewarded for all your
kind services to my children. Follow me down into the inner cellar,
where you have never yet been, for I always keep it locked and
carry the key away with me.'
Lizina looked round her in astonishment as they went down into the
great vaulted cellar underneath the kitchen. Before her stood the
big earthenware water jars, one of which contained oil, the other a
liquid shining like gold. 'In which of these jars shall I dip you?'
asked Father Gatto, with a grin that showed all his sharp white
teeth, while his moustaches stood out straight on either side of his
face. The little maid looked at the two jars from under her long
dark lashes: 'In the oil jar,' she answered timidly, thinking to
herself: 'I could not ask to be bathed in gold.'
But Father Gatto replied: 'No, no; you have deserved something
better than that.' And seizing her in his strong paws he plunged her
into the liquid gold. Wonder of wonders! when Lizina came out of
the jar she shone from head to foot like the sun in the heavens on a
fine summer's day. Her pretty pink cheeks and long black hair
alone kept their natural colour, otherwise she had become like a
statue of pure gold. Father Gatto purred loudly with satisfaction.
'Go home,' he said, 'and see your mother and sisters; but take care if
you hear the cock crow to turn towards it; if on the contrary the ass
brays, you must look the other way.'
The little maid, having gratefully kissed the white paw of the old
cat, set off for home; but just as she got near her mother's house the
cock crowed, and quickly she turned towards it. Immediately a
beautiful golden star appeared on her forehead, crowning her glossy
black hair. At the same time the ass began to bray, but Lizina took
care not to look over the fence into the field where the donkey was
feeding. Her mother and sister, who were in front of their house,
uttered cries of admiration and astonishment when they saw her,
and their cries became still louder when Lizina, taking her
handkerchief from her pocket, drew out also a handful of gold.
For some days the mother and her two daughters lived very happily
together, for Lizina had given them everything she had brought
away except her golden clothing, for that would not come off, in
spite of all the efforts of her sister, who was madly jealous of her
good fortune. The golden star, too, could not be removed from her
forehead. But all the gold pieces she drew from her pockets had
found their way to her mother and sister.
'I will go now and see what I can get out of the pussies,' said
Peppina, the elder girl, one morning, as she took Lizina's basket and
fastened her pockets into her own skirt. 'I should like some of the
cats' gold for myself,' she thought, as she left her mother's house
before the sun rose.
The cat colony had not yet taken another servant, for they knew
they could never get one to replace Lizina, whose loss they had not
yet ceased to mourn. When they heard that Peppina was her sister,
they all ran to meet her. 'She is not the least like her,' the kittens
whispered among themselves.
'Hush, be quiet!' the older cats said; 'all servants cannot be pretty.'
No, decidedly she was not at all like Lizina. Even the most
reasonable and large-minded of the cats soon acknowledged that.
The very first day she shut the kitchen door in the face of the
tom-cats who used to enjoy watching Lizina at her work, and a
young and mischievous cat who jumped in by the open kitchen
window and alighted on the table got such a blow with the
rolling-pin that he squalled for an hour.
With every day that passed the household became more and more
aware of its misfortune.
The work was as badly done as the servant was surly and
disagreeable; in the corners of the rooms there were collected heaps
of dust; spiders' webs hung from the ceilings and in front of the
window-panes; the beds were hardly ever made, and the feather
beds, so beloved by the old and feeble cats, had never once been
shaken since Lizina left the house. At Father Gatto's next visit he
found the whole colony in a state of uproar.
'Caesar has one paw so badly swollen that it looks as if it were
broken,' said one. 'Peppina kicked him with her great wooden
shoes on. Hector has an abscess in his back where a wooden chair
was flung at him; and Agrippina's three little kittens have died of
hunger beside their mother, because Peppina forgot them in their
basket up in the attic. There is no putting up with the creature--do
send her away, Father Gatto! Lizina herself would not be angry
with us; she must know very well what her sister is like.'
'Come here,' said Father Gatto, in his most severe tones to Peppina.
And he took her down into the cellar and showed her the same two
great jars that he had showed Lizina. 'In which of these shall I dip
you?' he asked; and she made haste to answer: 'In the liquid gold,'
for she was no more modest than she was good and kind.
Father Gatto's yellow eyes darted fire. 'You have not deserved it,'
he uttered, in a voice like thunder, and seizing her he flung her into
the jar of oil, where she was nearly suffocated. When she came to
the surface screaming and struggling, the vengeful cat seized her
again and rolled her in the ash-heap on the floor; then when she
rose, dirty, blinded, and disgusting to behold, he thrust her from the
door, saying: 'Begone, and when you meet a braying ass be careful
to turn your head towards it.'
Stumbling and raging, Peppina set off for home, thinking herself
fortunate to find a stick by the wayside with which to support
herself. She was within sight of her mother's house when she heard
in the meadow on the right, the voice of a donkey loudly braying.
Quickly she turned her head towards it, and at the same time put
her hand up to her forehead, where, waving like a plume, was a
donkey's tail. She ran home to her mother at the top of her speed,
yelling with rage and despair; and it took Lizina two hours with a
big basin of hot water and two cakes of soap to get rid of the layer
of ashes with which Father Gatto had adorned her. As for the
donkey's tail, it was impossible to get rid of that; it was as firmly
fixed on her forehead as was the golden star on Lizina's. Their
mother was furious. She first beat Lizina unmercifully with the
broom, then she took her to the mouth of the well and lowered her
into it, leaving her at the bottom weeping and crying for help.
Before this happened, however, the king's son in passing the
mother's house had seen Lizina sitting sewing in the parlour, and
had been dazzled by her beauty. After coming back two or three
times, he at last ventured to approach the window and to whisper in
the softest voice: 'Lovely maiden, will you be my bride?' and she
had answered: 'I will.'
Next morning, when the prince arrived to claim his bride, he found
her wrapped in a large white veil. 'It is so that maidens are received
from their parents' hands,' said the mother, who hoped to make the
king's son marry Peppina in place of her sister, and had fastened the
donkey's tail round her head like a lock of hair under the veil. The
prince was young and a little timid, so he made no objections, and
seated Peppina in the carriage beside him.
Their way led past the old house inhabited by the cats, who were all
at the window, for the report had got about that the prince was
going to marry the most beautiful maiden in the world, on whose
forehead shone a golden star, and they knew that this could only be
their adored Lizina. As the carriage slowly passed in front of the
old house, where cats from all parts of world seemed to be gathered
a song burst from every throat:!
Mew, mew, mew! Prince, look quick behind you! In the well is fair
Lizina, And you've got nothing but Peppina.
When he heard this the coachman, who understood the cat's
language better than the prince, his master, stopped his horses and
asked:
'Does your highness know what the grimalkins are saying?' and the
song broke forth again louder than ever.
With a turn of his hand the prince threw back the veil, and
discovered the puffed-up, swollen face of Peppina, with the
donkey's tail twisted round her head. 'Ah, traitress!' he exclaimed,
and ordering the horses to be turned round, he drove the elder
daughter, quivering with rage, to the old woman who had sought to
deceive him. With his hand on the hilt of his sword he demanded
Lizina in so terrific a voice that the mother hastened to the well to
draw her prisoner out. Lizina's clothing and her star shone so
brilliantly that when the prince led her home to the king, his father,
the whole palace was lit up. Next day they were married, and lived
happy ever after; and all the cats, headed by old Father Gatto, were
present at the wedding.
How To Find Out A True Friend
Once upon a time there lived a king and queen who longed to have
a son. As none came, one day they made a vow at the shrine of St.
James that if their prayers were granted the boy should set out on a
pilgrimage as soon as he had passed his eighteenth birthday. And
fancy their delight when one evening the king returned home from
hunting and saw a baby lying in the cradle.
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