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Fairy Tales

Page 3

by Terry Jones


  Then the chief of the robbers said: ‘I want three of the biggest bags of gold you’ve ever seen!’ and he opened the glass cupboard and took out three of the biggest bags of gold you’ve ever seen.

  ‘Hooray!’ they said. ‘Now we can take out as much gold as we like!’

  Well, those three robbers stayed up the whole night, taking bag after bag of gold out of the glass cupboard. But not one of them put anything back in.

  In the morning, the chief of the robbers said: ‘Soon we shall be the richest three men in the world. But let us go to sleep now, and we can take out more gold tonight.’

  So they lay down to sleep. But the first robber could not sleep. He kept thinking: ‘If I went to the glass cupboard just once more, I’d be even richer than I am now.’ So he got up, and went to the cupboard, and took out yet another bag of gold, and then went back to bed.

  And the second robber could not sleep either. He kept thinking: ‘If I went to the glass cupboard and took out two more bags of gold, I’d be even richer than the others.’ So he got up, and went to the cupboard, and took out two more bags of gold, and then went back to bed.

  Meanwhile the chief of the robbers could not sleep either. He kept thinking: ‘If I went to the glass cupboard and took out three more bags of gold, I’d be the richest of all.‘ So he got up, and went to the cupboard, and took out three more bags of gold, and then went back to bed.

  And then the first robber said to himself: ‘What am I doing, lying here sleeping, when I could be getting richer?’ So he got up, and started taking more and more bags of gold out of the cupboard.

  The second robber heard him and thought: ‘What am I doing, lying here sleeping, when he‘s getting richer than me?’ So he got up and joined his companion.

  And then the chief of the robbers got up too. ‘I can’t lie here sleeping,’ he said, ‘while the other two are both getting richer than me.’ So he got up and soon all three were hard at it, taking more and more bags of gold out of the cupboard.

  And all that day and all that night not one of them dared to stop for fear that one of his companions would get richer than him. And they carried on all the next day and all the next night. They didn’t stop to rest, and they didn’t stop to eat, and they didn’t even stop to drink. They kept taking out those bags of gold faster and faster and more and more until, at length, they grew faint with lack of sleep and food and drink, but still they did not dare to stop.

  All that week and all the next week, and all that month and all that winter, they kept at it, until the chief of the robbers could bear it no longer, and he picked up a hammer and smashed the glass cupboard into a million pieces, and they all three gave a great cry and fell down dead on top of the huge mountain of gold they had taken out of the glass cupboard.

  Sometime later the king returned home, and his servants threw themselves on their knees before him, and said: ‘Forgive us, Your Majesty, but three wicked robbers have stolen the glass cupboard!’

  The king ordered his servants to search the length and breadth of the land. When they found what was left of the glass cupboard, and the three robbers lying dead, they filled sixty great carts with all the gold and took it back to the king. And when the king heard that the glass cupboard was smashed into a million pieces and that the three thieves were dead, he shook his head and said: ‘If those thieves had always put something back into the cupboard for every bag of gold they had taken out, they would be alive to this day.’ And he ordered his servants to collect all the pieces of the glass cupboard and to melt them down and make them into a globe with all the countries of the world upon it, to remind himself, and others, that the earth is as fragile as that glass cupboard.

  KATY-MAKE-SURE

  THERE WAS ONCE A LITTLE GIRL CALLED KATY, who found an old shoe inside a hollow tree. It was a funny little shoe with a pointed toe and it was no more than an inch long.

  ‘I wonder who it can belong to?’ she thought, and she slipped it into the pocket of her dress, and went on her way. She hadn’t gone very far before she heard a sound like this:

  tippity-tap

  tippity-tap

  tippity-tap

  She looked round a large oak tree and saw a little goblin hopping around on one foot. ‘Excuse me,’ she said, ‘but is this your shoe?’ Well, the goblin danced for joy.

  ‘At last!’ he cried. ‘Without my shoes I can’t go back to Goblin City.’ So Katy gave the goblin his shoe, and he put it on, and danced around the,tree, singing:

  Short or long to Goblin City?

  The straight way’s short,

  But the long way’s pretty!

  Then he stopped, and said to Katy: ‘If you come with me to Goblin City, the King of the Goblins will give you a reward.’

  ‘Well, I could come,’ said Katy, ‘but how would we get there?’

  The goblin just hopped up and down on one leg and chanted:

  Short or long to Goblin City?

  The straight way’s short,

  But the long way’s pretty!

  ‘But how do I know if it’s worth going the pretty way, or if it’ll take too long?’ asked Katy.

  The goblin jumped in the air, twirled round three times before he landed on one toe, and said:

  Short or long to Goblin City?

  The straight way’s short,

  But the long way’s pretty!

  ‘How can I be sure it’s not better to go the short way?’ asked Katy.

  The goblin jumped in the air, landed on his head, and span round and round like a top until he disappeared into the ground, and then reappeared just behind Katy and cried:

  Short or long to Goblin City?

  The straight way’s short,

  But the long way’s pretty!

  ‘How can I be sure I’ll like it, whichever way we go?’ asked Katy.

  The goblin did a somersault, and landed on one finger. Then he snapped his finger so hard that he rose into the air, up and up, and then came tumbling down and landed in a dandelion puff-ball, and cried:

  Goblin City’s far and near!

  If you want to make sure,

  You’d better stay here!

  With that, a puff of wind caught the dandelion and scattered it to the four corners of the world, and the goblin was gone too.

  And poor Katy never went to Goblin City either way.

  THE WOODEN CITY

  THERE WAS ONCE A POOR KING. He had a threadbare robe and patches on his throne. The reason he was poor was that he gave away all his money to whomever needed it, for he cared for his people as if each of them was his own child.

  One day, however, a wizard came to the city while the king was away. The wizard summoned all the people into the main square, and said to them: ‘Make me your king, and you shall have all the gold and silver you ever wanted!’

  Now the townsfolk talked amongst themselves and said: ‘Our king is poor, for he has given all his money away, and while it is certainly true that there are no beggars in this kingdom, it is also true that none of us are very rich nor can expect to be as long as our present king reigns.’ So at length they agreed that the wizard should become their king.

  ‘And will you obey my laws – whatever I decree?’ cried the wizard.

  ‘If we can have all the gold and silver we ever wanted,’ they replied, ‘you may make what laws you wish.’

  Whereupon the wizard climbed to the top of the tallest tower in the city. He took a live dove, and tore out its feathers, and dropped them one by one out of the tower, chanting:

  Gold and silver shall be yours

  And blocks of wood shall serve my laws.

  Now that poor dove had as many feathers on its back as there were people in that city and, by the time the wizard had finished, everyone in the city had been turned to wood.

  When the king arrived back, he found the gates of the city shut and no one to open them. So he sent his servant to find out what was the matter. The servant returned, saying he could not find the gatekeeper, but only
a wooden mannequin dressed in the gatekeeper’s uniform, standing in his place.

  At length, however, the gates were opened, and the king went into the city., But instead of cheering crowds, he found only wooden people, each standing where they had been when the wizard cast his spell. There was a wooden shoemaker sitting working at a pair of new shoes. Outside the inn was a wooden innkeeper, pouring some beer from a jug into the cup of a wooden old man. Wooden women were hanging blankets out of the windows, or walking wooden children down the street. And at the fish shop, a wooden fishmonger stood by a slab of rotten fish. And when the king entered his palace, he even found his own wife and children turned to wood. Filled with despair, he sat down on the floor and wept.

  Whereupon the wizard appeared, and said to the king: ‘Will you become my slave if I bring your people back to life?’

  And the king answered: ‘Nothing would be too much to ask. I would become your slave.’

  So the wizard set to work. He ordered a quantity of the finest wood, and took the most delicate tools, with golden screws and silver pins, and he made a little wooden heart that beat and pumped for everyone in that city. Then he placed one heart inside each of the wooden citizens, and set it working.

  One by one, each citizen opened its wooden eyes, and looked stiffly around, while its wooden heart beat: tunca-tunca-tunca. Then each wooden citizen moved a wooden leg and a wooden arm, and then one by one they started to go about their business as before, except stiffly and awkwardly, for they were still made of wood.

  Then the wizard appeared before the king and said: ‘Now you are my slave!’

  ‘But,’ cried the king, ‘my people are still made of wood, you have not truly brought them back to life.’

  ‘Enough life to work for me!’ cried the wicked old wizard. And he ordered the wooden army to throw the king out of the city and bolt the gates.

  The king wandered through the world, begging for his food, and seeking someone who could bring his subjects back to life. But he could find no one. In despair, he took work as a shepherd, minding sheep on a hill that overlooked the city, and there he would often stop travellers as they passed to and fro and ask them how it was in the great city.

  ‘It’s fine,’ they would reply, ‘the citizens make wonderful clocks and magnificent clothes woven out of precious metals, and they sell these things cheaper than anywhere else on earth!’

  One night, however, the king determined to see how things were for himself. So he crept down to the walls, and climbed in through a secret window, and went to the main square. There an extraordinary sight met his eyes. Although it was the dead of night, every one of those wooden citizens was working as if it had been broad daylight. None of them spoke a word, however, and the only sound was the tunca-tunca-tunca of their wooden hearts beating in their wooden chests.

  The king ran from one to the other saying: ‘Don’t you remember me? I am your king.’ But they all just stared at him blankly and then hurried on their way.

  At length the king saw his own daughter coming down the street carrying a load of firewood for the wizard’s fire. He caught hold of her and lifted her up and said: ‘Daughter! Don’t you remember me? Don’t you remember you’re a princess?’

  But his daughter looked at him and said: ‘I remember nothing, but I have gold and silver in my purse.’

  So the king leapt onto a box in the main square and cried out: ‘You are all under the wizard’s spell! Help me seize him and cast him out!’

  But they all turned with blank faces and replied: ‘We have all the gold and silver we ever wanted. Why should we do anything?’

  Just then, the wizard himself appeared on the steps of the palace, arrayed in a magnificent robe of gold and silver, and carrying a flaming torch.

  ‘Ah ha!’ he cried. ‘So you thought you’d undo my work, did you? Very well…’ And he raised his hands to cast a spell upon the king. But before he could utter a single word, the king seized the bundle of firewood that his daughter was carrying and hurled it at the wizard. At once the flame from the wizard’s torch caught the wood, and the blazing pieces fell down around him in a circle of fire that swallowed him up. And as the fire raged, the spell began to lift.

  The king’s daughter and all the others shivered, and the tunca-tunca-tunca of their wooden hearts changed to real heartbeats, and they each turned back into flesh and blood. And when they looked where the wizard had been, there in his place they found a molten heap of twisted gold and silver. This, the king had raised up on a pedestal in the main square, and underneath he had written the words:

  ‘Whoever needs gold or silver may take from here.’

  But, do you know, not one of those townsfolk ever took a single scrap of it as long as they lived.

  I wonder if it’s still there?

  THE SHIP OF BONES

  IN THE DAYS WHEN SAILING SHIPS crossed the oceans, blown by the winds, there was one ship that all sailors dreaded to see. It was called the Ship of Bones. Its sails were deathly white and its figurehead was a skull and all along its length were carved the names of drowned sailors, and they say that’ the hull was made from their bones.

  This is the story of the only man who went aboard the Ship of Bones and lived to tell the tale. His name was Stoker, Bill Stoker, and he sailed on the ship Mayfly, that left Portsmouth on 1 June 1784…

  They hadn’t been gone more than a week when they were caught in a storm … in a terrible storm. The waves towered up six times as high as the mainmast, and the little ship was tossed about the ocean like a bit of cork in the foam. One moment it was rising up the head of a mighty wave and the next minute it was dashed down into the trough, and the waters blotted out the sun and it all went still, until another wave crashed down on her bows.

  Well, the storm raged on for four days and four nights, and on the fourth night the sailors had given themselves up as good as dead. Their sails were in shreds, the rudder was broken, and half the crew were lying sick in their hammocks or being tossed across the cabin by the force of the sea.

  Old Bill Stoker was lying in his bunk, thinking this would be his last night on this earth, when he heard a cry from up on deck, and this sailor comes running down to the cabin as white as a sheet.

  ‘It’s the Ship of Bones!’ he cries. ‘We’ve had it now for sure, mates!’

  Now old Bill Stoker was not one to take things lying down. ‘I don’t believe in no Ship of Bones,’ he says, and leaps out of his bunk and climbs up on deck. It was a dreadful night. The rain lashed across his face, and the wind was blowing up the sea like so many mountains. Bill Stoker peers into the storm, and – sure enough – across the tops of the raging waters he can just make out the whitest ship you ever saw. Its sails were almost glowing white in the darkness.

  ‘Well!’ shouts Bill Stoker. ‘If that’s the Ship of Bones, I’ll eat my hat!’

  Just then, a mighty wave smashes across the deck and, before he knows what’s hit him, Bill Stoker finds himself lifted high up in the air on top of the wave. He looks down and there – a hundred feet below – is his own ship. Then suddenly, he’s thrown through the air by the force of the wave, and he lands slap in the middle of another, and he goes right under. Well, just as he’s beginning to gasp for breath, he finds himself shooting out and up into the air again on another monstrous wave. And this time he looks down, and just catches sight of the white ship below him, when he finds himself hurtling downwards again. Then everything goes deathly quiet and still.

  Well, he opens his eyes and looks around. Sure enough he’s lying right there on the deck of the Ship of Bones. He can see the black night and the storm raging all about. But the ship itself is quite still – scarcely moving, like, as if it were becalmed. And there’s not a sound.

  Bill Stoker puts his hand out and feels the deck. It’s smooth like ivory and, even though the rain and the waves are lashing the ship, the deck itself is quite, quite dry. Well, Bill looks around and sees that he’s all alone, except for an old sailor who’s
winding in the anchor. So he gets to his feet and calls out: ‘Ahoy there!’ But the old sailor doesn’t turn round – he just keeps on a-winding in that anchor. So Bill Stoker walks across the deck and says: ‘Ahoy there, matey! What’s to do?’

  The old sailor turns round, and do you know? He hasn’t got a face – leastwise, not what you’d call a face – more of a skull … And his hands are skeleton hands. And his jaws open and a cracked voice says: ‘Welcome to the Ship of Bones, Bill!’ And he puts out a boney hand to take hold of Bill Stoker. But old Bill Stoker – he backs away. Then he turns on his heels and runs as hard as he can, and ducks below decks. But he can hear the skeleton coming after him, so he shuts the hatch and skids down those steps as fast as he can.

  Inside the ship there’s a curious smell, like you get around tombstones. Bill Stoker grabs the rail as he goes down, and he notices that everything’s made out of bones – white and yellow, old and new. But he can still hear the skeleton footsteps coming after him, so he goes right on down into the hold.

  It’s so dark, he can’t see for a bit … then suddenly he hears a shout: ‘Why! Here’s Bill Stoker! Hello there, Bill! Welcome to the Ship of Bones!’

  Bill’s eyes are used to the dark by now, and he can just see some shapes rising up off their beds and coming towards him. Well! He doesn’t stop to see who they are: he doubles back on himself and runs back up the steps. And there’s the skeleton sailor, standing at the top, grinning down at him.

  Well, old Bill Stoker wasn’t a man to be scared easily, so he runs up the steps, gets out his cutlass and strikes at the creature. But the skeleton sailor hops out of the way, and grabs Bill’s shirt as he runs past. But it’s an old shirt, and it rips apart before the thing can get its boney fingers over Bill’s throat. In a trice, Bill’s up on deck again, sprinting across to the bridge house.

 

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