Pepper & Salt Part 17

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Old King Rejoices at His New Daughter-in-Law.]

To this the false Princess answered, as bold as bra.s.s, "Such a one should be thrown into a pit full of toads and snakes."

"You have spoken for yourself," said the King; and he would have done just so to her had not the true Princess begged for her so that she was sent back again to tend the geese, for that was what she was fit for.

Then they had the grandest wedding that ever was seen in all of the world. Everybody was asked, and there was enough for all to eat as much as they chose, and to take a little something home to the children beside. If I had been there I would have brought you something.

What is the meaning of all this?

Listen, I will tell you something.

Once there was a man, and he winnowed a whole peck of chaff, and got only three good solid grains from it, and yet he was glad to have so much.

Would you winnow a whole peck of chaff for only three good grains? No? Then you will never know all that is meant by this story.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A Disappointment. This ill.u.s.trated poem has the two talking to each other by a road.]

A DISAPPOINTMENT

_He_ "I prithee, tell me wh're you live?

Oh Maid, so sweet and rare!"

_She_ "I am ye miller's daughter, sir, And live just over th're"

_He_ "Of all ye Maids I ever saw, You are beyond compare."

_She_ "Oh; Thank you, sir! Oh; thank you, sir!

Your words are very fair."

_He_ "So I w'ld ask you something, now; If I might only dare."

_She_ "Now, you may ask me wh't you please, For anything I care."

_He_ "Then will you marry me? For we.

W'ld make a goodly pair."

_She_ "I thank you sir; your offer, it Is most extremely rare.

But as I am already wed, You'r late, sir, for ye Fair."

At th's ye Bachelor walked away, And talked to himself of th' La.s.s so gay-- "Her hair is very decidedly red; And her eyes have somewhat of a cast in her head; And her feet are large, and her hands are coa.r.s.e; And, without I'm mistaken, her voice is hoa.r.s.e.

'Tis a bargain of wh'ch I am very well rid; I am glad, on ye whole, I escaped as I did."

Howard Pyle

[Ill.u.s.tration: Ye sad story concerning one innocent little _Lamb_ and four wicked _Wolves._ The ill.u.s.trations show small insets of the lamb dancing, the four wolves sitting and watching the lamb dance, and finally a group of lambs looking at its tail as the wolves run away.]

YE SAD STORY CONCERNING ON INNOCENT LITTLE _LAMB_ AND FOUR WICKED _WOLVES_

A little lamb was gamboling, Upon a pleasant day, And four grey wolves came shambling, And stopped to see it play In the sun.

Said the lamb, "Perhaps I may Charm these creatures with my play, And they'll let me go away, When I've done."

The wolves, they sat asmiling at The playful thing, to see How exceedingly beguiling that Its pretty play could be.

See it hop!

But its strength began to wane, Though it gamboled on in pain, Till it finally was fain, For to stop.

Oh! then there was a munching, Of that tender little thing, And a crunching and a scrunching, As you'ld munch a chicken wing.

No avail Was its cunning, merry play For the only thing, they say, That was left of it that day, Was its tail.

So with me; when I am done, And the critics have begun, All they'll leave me of my fun 'Ll be the tale.

H Pyle

[Ill.u.s.tration]

THE APPLE OF CONTENTMENT

There was a woman once, and she had three daughters. The first daughter squinted with both eyes, yet the woman loved her as she loved salt, for she herself squinted with both eyes. The second daughter had one shoulder higher than the other, and eyebrows as black as soot in the chimney, yet the woman loved her as well as she loved the other, for she herself had black eyebrows and one shoulder higher than the other. The youngest daughter was as pretty as a ripe apple, and had hair as fine as silk and the color of pure gold, but the woman loved her not at all, for, as I have said, she herself was neither pretty, nor had she hair of the color of pure gold. Why all this was so, even Hans Pfifendrummel cannot tell, though he has read many books and one over.

The first sister and the second sister dressed in their Sunday clothes every day, and sat in the sun doing nothing, just as though they had been born ladies, both of them.

As for Christine--that was the name of the youngest girl--as for Christine, she dressed in nothing but rags, and had to drive the geese to the hills in the morning and home again in the evening, so that they might feed on the young gra.s.s all day and grow fat.

The first sister and the second sister had white bread (and b.u.t.ter beside) and as much fresh milk as they could drink; but Christine had to eat cheese-parings and bread-crusts, and had hardly enough of them to keep Goodman Hunger from whispering in her ear.

This was how the churn clacked in that house!

Well, one morning Christine started off to the hills with her flock of geese, and in her hands she carried her knitting, at which she worked to save time. So she went along the dusty road until, by-and-by, she came to a place where a bridge crossed the brook, and what should she see there but a little red cap, with a silver bell at the point of it, hanging from the alder branch. It was such a nice, pretty little red cap that Christine thought that she would take it home with her, for she had never seen the like of it in all of her life before.

So she put it in her pocket, and then off she went with her geese again.

But she had hardly gone two-score of paces when she heard a voice calling her, "Christine! Christine!"

She looked, and who should she see but a queer little gray man, with a great head as big as a cabbage and little legs as thin as young radishes.

"What do you want?" said Christine, when the little man had come to where she was.

Oh, the little man only wanted his cap again, for without it he could not go back home into the hill--that was where he belonged.

But how did the cap come to be hanging from the bush? Yes, Christine would like to know that before she gave it back again.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The little man asks far his cap.]

Well, the little hill-man was fis.h.i.+ng by the brook over yonder when a puff of wind blew his cap into the water, and he just hung it up to dry.

That was all that there was about it; and now would Christine please give it to him?

Christine did not know how about that; perhaps she would and perhaps she would not. It was a nice, pretty little cap; what would the little underground man give her for it? that was the question.

Oh, the little man would give her five thalers for it, and gladly.

No; five thalers was not enough for such a pretty little cap--see, there was a silver bell hanging to it too.