English Fairy Tales / Английские сказки. Elementary. Отсутствует

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СКАЧАТЬ last she died. The husband put on black clothes and pulled the longest face at the funeral. But in the middle of the night, he dug up the body and cut off the golden arm. He hurried home to hide his treasure and thought no one would know.

      The following night, he put the golden arm under his pillow and was just falling asleep when the ghost of his dead wife glided into the room. Stalking up to the bedside, it drew the curtain and looked at him reproachfully. Pretending not to be afraid, he spoke to the ghost, and said, “What have you done with your red cheeks?”

      “All withered and wasted away,” replied the ghost in a hollow tone.

      “What have you done with your red rosy lips?”

      “All withered and wasted away.”

      “What have you done with your golden hair?”

      “All withered and wasted away.”

      “What have you done with your Golden Arm?”

      “You have it!”

      The Rose-Tree

      There was once upon a time a good man who had two children: a girl by a first wife[126] and a boy by the second. The girl was as white as milk, and her lips were like cherries. Her hair was like golden silk, and it hung to the ground. Her brother loved her dearly, but her wicked stepmother hated her. “Child,” said the stepmother one day, “go to the grocer’s shop and buy me a pound of candles.” She gave her the money, and the little girl went, bought the candles and started on her return[127]. But there was a stile on her way. How to cross it? She put down the candles while she got over the stile. Suddenly a dog came and ran off with the candles.

      The girl went back to the grocer’s, and the grocer gave her a second bunch. She came to the stile, set down the candles and began to climb it over. Again came the dog and ran off with the candles.

      The girl went again to the grocer’s, and the grocer gave her a third bunch. But the same thing happened![128] The big dog came again and ran off with the candles as usual.

      Then the girl came to her stepmother crying, because she had spent all the money and had lost three bunches of candles.

      The stepmother was angry, but she pretended not to mind the loss[129]. She said to the child, “Come, lay your head on my lap that I may comb your hair.” So the little girl laid her head in the woman’s lap, who proceeded to comb the yellow hair. And when she combed, the hair fell over her knees and rolled right down to the ground.

      Then the stepmother hated her more for the beauty of her hair, so she said to her, “I cannot part your hair on my knee; fetch a billet of wood.” So she fetched it. Then said the stepmother, “I cannot part your hair with a comb; fetch me an axe.” So she fetched it.

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

      Well! she laid down her little golden head without fear, and whist![130] down came the axe[131], and it was off[132]. So the mother wiped the axe and laughed.

      Then she took the heart and liver of the little girl, and she stewed them and brought them into the house for supper. The husband tasted them and shook his head. He said they tasted very strangely. She gave some to the little boy, but he would not eat. She tried to force him, but he refused, ran out into the garden, took up his little sister, put her in a box and buried the box under a rose-tree; and every day he went to the tree and wept till his tears ran down on the box.

      One day the rose-tree flowered. It was spring, and there among the flowers was a white bird. The bird sang, and sang and sang like an angel out of heaven. Then it flew away. It went to a cobbler’s shop and perched itself on a tree nearby, and thus it sang,

      “My wicked mother slew me,

      My dear father ate me,

      My little brother whom I love

      Sits below, and I sing above

      Stick, stock, stone dead.”

      “Sing again that beautiful song,” asked the shoemaker.

      “Please give me those little red shoes that you are making.”

      The cobbler gave the shoes, and the bird sang the song, then flew to a tree in front of a watchmaker’s[133] and sang:

      “My wicked mother slew me,

      My dear father ate me,

      My little brother whom I love

      Sits below, and I sing above

      Stick, stock, stone dead.”

      “Oh, a beautiful song! Sing it again, sweet bird,” asked the watchmaker.

      “Please give me that gold watch and chain in your hand.” The watchmaker gave the watch and chain. The bird took it in one foot, the shoes in the other, and repeated the song. Then the bird flew away to where[134] three millers were picking a millstone. The bird perched on a tree and sang:

      “My wicked mother slew me,

      My dear father ate me,

      My little brother whom I love

      Sits below, and I sing above

      Stick!”

      Then one of the men put down his tool and looked up from his work,

      “Stock!”

      Then the second miller’s man laid aside his tool and looked up,

      “Stone!”

      Then the third miller’s man laid down his tool and looked up,

      “Dead!”

      Then all three cried out with one voice: “Oh, what a beautiful song! Sing it, sweet bird, again.”

      “Please put the millstone round my neck,” said the bird. The men did what the bird wanted, and away to the tree it flew with the millstone round its neck, the red shoes in one foot, and the gold watch and chain in the other. It sang the song and then flew home. It rattled the millstone against the eaves of the house, and the stepmother said, “It thunders.” Then the little boy ran out to see the thunder, and down dropped the red shoes at his feet.

      It rattled the millstone against the eaves of the house once more, and the stepmother said again: “It thunders.” Then the father ran out, and down fell the chain about his neck.

      Father and son came in, laughing and saying, “See, what fine things the thunder has brought us!” Then the bird rattled the millstone against the eaves of the house a third time, and the stepmother said, “It thunders again, perhaps the thunder has brought something for me,” and she ran out. But alas! When she stepped outside the door, the millstone fell down on her head, and so she died.

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