The Violet Fairy Book

The lad was dumb with fright. He felt his nose. It was thick, and quite two hands long. So, then, the old woman had changed his shape, and that was why his own mother did not know him, and called him a horrid dwarf!

‘Master,’ said he, ‘have you got a glass that I could see myself in?’

‘Young gentleman,’ was the answer, ‘your appearance is hardly one to be vain of, and there is no need to waste your time looking in a glass. Besides, I have none here, and if you must have one you had better ask Urban the barber, who lives over the way, to lend you his. Good morning.’

So saying, he gently pushed Jem into the street, shut the door, and went back to his work.

Jem stepped across to the barber, whom he had known in old days.

‘Good morning, Urban,’ said he; ‘may I look at myself in your glass for a moment?’

‘With pleasure,’ said the barber, laughing, and all the people in his shop fell to laughing also. ‘You are a pretty youth, with your swan-like neck and white hands and small nose. No wonder you are rather vain; but look as long as you like at yourself.’

So spoke the barber, and a titter ran round the room. Meantime Jem had stepped up to the mirror, and stood gazing sadly at his reflection. Tears came to his eyes.

‘No wonder you did not know your child again, dear mother,’ thought he; ‘he wasn’t like this when you were so proud of his looks.’

His eyes had grown quite small, like pigs’ eyes, his nose was huge and hung down over his mouth and chin, his throat seemed to have disappeared altogether, and his head was fixed stiffly between his shoulders. He was no taller than he had been seven years ago, when he was not much more than twelve years old, but he made up in breadth, and his back and chest had grown into lumps like two great sacks. His legs were small and spindly, but his arms were as large as those of a well-grown man, with large brown hands, and long skinny fingers.

Then he remembered the morning when he had first seen the old woman, and her threats to him, and without saying a word he left the barber’s shop.

He determined to go again to his mother, and found her still in the market-place. He begged her to listen quietly to him, and he reminded her of the day when he went away with the old woman, and of many things in his childhood, and told her how the fairy had bewitched him, and he had served her seven years. Hannah did not know what to think – the story was so strange; and it seemed impossible to think her pretty boy and this hideous dwarf were the same. At last she decided to go and talk to her husband about it. She gathered up her baskets, told Jem to follow her, and went straight to the cobbler’s stall.

‘Look here,’ said she, ‘this creature says he is our lost son. He has been telling me how he was stolen seven years ago, and bewitched by a fairy.’

‘Indeed!’ interrupted the cobbler angrily. ‘Did he tell you this? Wait a minute, you rascal! Why I told him all about it myself only an hour ago, and then he goes off to humbug you. So you were bewitched, my son were you? Wait a bit, and I’ll bewitch you!’

So saying, he caught up a bundle of straps, and hit out at Jem so hard that he ran off crying.

The poor little dwarf roamed about all the rest of the day without food or drink, and at night was glad to lie down and sleep on the steps of a church. He woke next morning with the first rays of light, and began to think what he could do to earn a living. Suddenly he remembered that he was an excellent cook, and he determined to look out for a place.

As soon as it was quite daylight he set out for the palace, for he knew that the grand duke who reigned over the country was fond of good things.

When he reached the palace all the servants crowded about him, and made fun of him, and at last their shouts and laughter grew so loud that the head steward rushed out, crying, ‘For goodness sake, be quiet, can’t you. Don’t you know his highness is still asleep?’

Some of the servants ran off at once, and others pointed out Jem.

Indeed, the steward found it hard to keep himself from laughing at the comic sight, but he ordered the servants off and led the dwarf into his own room.

When he heard him ask for a place as cook, he said: ‘You make some mistake, my lad. I think you want to be the grand duke’s dwarf, don’t you?’

‘No, sir,’ replied Jem. ‘I am an experienced cook, and if you will kindly take me to the head cook he may find me of some use.’

‘Well, as you will; but believe me, you would have an easier place as the grand ducal dwarf.’

So saying, the head steward led him to the head cook’s room.

‘Sir,’ asked Jem, as he bowed till his nose nearly touched the floor, ‘do you want an experienced cook?’

The head cook looked him over from head to foot, and burst out laughing.

‘You a cook! Do you suppose our cooking stoves are so low that you can look into any saucepan on them? Oh, my dear little fellow, whoever sent you to me wanted to make fun of you.’

But the dwarf was not to be put off.

‘What matters an extra egg or two, or a little butter or flour and spice more or less, in such a house as this?’ said he. ‘Name any dish you wish to have cooked, and give me the materials I ask for, and you shall see.’

He said much more, and at last persuaded the head cook to give him a trial.

They went into the kitchen – a huge place with at least twenty fireplaces, always alight. A little stream of clear water ran through the room, and live fish were kept at one end of it. Everything in the kitchen was of the best and most beautiful kind, and swarms of cooks and scullions were busy preparing dishes.

When the head cook came in with Jem everyone stood quite still.

‘What has his highness ordered for luncheon?’ asked the head cook.

‘Sir, his highness has graciously ordered a Danish soup and red Hamburg dumplings.’

‘Good,’ said the head cook. ‘Have you heard, and do you feel equal to making these dishes? Not that you will be able to make the dumplings, for they are a secret receipt.’

‘Is that all!’ said Jem, who had often made both dishes. ‘Nothing easier. Let me have some eggs, a piece of wild boar, and such and such roots and herbs for the soup; and as for the dumplings,’ he added in a low voice to the head cook, ‘I shall want four different kinds of meat, some wine, a duck’s marrow, some ginger, and a herb called heal-well.’

‘Why,’ cried the astonished cook, ‘where did you learn cooking? Yes, those are the exact materials, but we never used the herb heal-well, which, I am sure, must be an improvement.’

And now Jem was allowed to try his hand. He could not nearly reach up to the kitchen range, but by putting a wide plank on two chairs he managed very well. All the cooks stood round to look on, and could not help admiring the quick, clever way in which he set to work. At last, when all was ready, Jem ordered the two dishes to be put on the fire till he gave the word. Then he began to count: ‘One, two, three,’ till he got to five hundred when he cried, ‘Now!’ The saucepans were taken off, and he invited the head cook to taste.

The first cook took a golden spoon, washed and wiped it, and handed it to the head cook, who solemnly approached, tasted the dishes, and smacked his lips over them. ‘First rate, indeed!’ he exclaimed. ‘You certainly are a master of the art, little fellow, and the herb heal-well gives a particular relish.’

As he was speaking, the duke’s valet came to say that his highness was ready for luncheon, and it was served at once in silver dishes. The head cook took Jem to his own room, but had hardly had time to question him before he was ordered to go at once to the grand duke. He hurried on his best clothes and followed the messenger.

The grand duke was looking much pleased. He had emptied the dishes, and was wiping his mouth as the head cook came in. ‘Who cooked my luncheon to-day?’ asked he. ‘I must say your dumplings are always very good; but I don’t think I ever tasted anything so delicious as they were to-day. Who made them?’

‘It is a strange story, your highness,’ said the cook, and told him the whole matter, which surprised the duke so much that he sent for the dwarf and asked him many questions. Of course, Jem could not say he had been turned into a squirrel, but he said he was without parents and had been taught cooking by an old woman.

‘If you will stay with me,’ said the grand duke, ‘you shall have fifty ducats a year, besides a new coat and a couple of pairs of trousers. You must undertake to cook my luncheon yourself and to direct what I shall have for dinner, and you shall be called assistant head cook.’

Jem bowed to the ground, and promised to obey his new master in all things.

He lost no time in setting to work, and everyone rejoiced at having him in the kitchen, for the duke was not a patient man, and had been known to throw plates and dishes at his cooks and servants if the things served were not quite to his taste. Now all was changed. He never even grumbled at anything, had five meals instead of three, thought everything delicious, and grew fatter daily.

And so Jem lived on for two years, much respected and considered, and only saddened when he thought of his parents. One day passed much like another till the following incident happened.

Dwarf Long Nose – as he was always called – made a practice of doing his marketing as much as possible himself, and whenever time allowed went to the market to buy his poultry and fruit. One morning he was in the goose market, looking for some nice fat geese. No one thought of laughing at his appearance now; he was known as the duke’s special body cook, and every goose-woman felt honoured if his nose turned her way.

He noticed one woman sitting apart with a number of geese, but not crying or praising them like the rest. He went up to her, felt and weighed her geese, and, finding them very good, bought three and the cage to put them in, hoisted them on his broad shoulders, and set off on his way back.

As he went, it struck him that two of the geese were gobbling and screaming as geese do, but the third sat quite still, only heaving a deep sigh now and then, like a human being. ‘That goose is ill,’ said he; ‘I must make haste to kill and dress her.’

But the goose answered him quite distinctly:

‘Squeeze too tightAnd I’ll bite,If my neck a twist you gaveI’d bring you to an early grave.’

Quite frightened, the dwarf set down the cage, and the goose gazed at him with sad wise-looking eyes and sighed again.

‘Good gracious!’ said Long Nose. ‘So you can speak, Mistress Goose. I never should have thought it! Well, don’t be anxious. I know better than to hurt so rare a bird. But I could bet you were not always in this plumage – wasn’t I a squirrel myself for a time?’

‘You are right,’ said the goose, ‘in supposing I was not born in this horrid shape. Ah! no one ever thought that Mimi, the daughter of the great Weatherbold, would be killed for the ducal table.’

‘Be quite easy, Mistress Mimi,’ comforted Jem. ‘As sure as I’m an honest man and assistant head cook to his highness, no one shall harm you. I will make a hutch for you in my own rooms, and you shall be well fed, and I’ll come and talk to you as much as I can. I’ll tell all the other cooks that I am fattening up a goose on very special food for the grand duke, and at the first good opportunity I will set you free.’

The goose thanked him with tears in her eyes, and the dwarf kept his word. He killed the other two geese for dinner, but built a little shed for Mimi in one of his rooms, under the pretence of fattening her under his own eye. He spent all his spare time talking to her and comforting her, and fed her on all the daintiest dishes. They confided their histories to each other, and Jem learnt that the goose was the daughter of the wizard Weatherbold, who lived on the island of Gothland. He fell out with an old fairy, who got the better of him by cunning and treachery, and to revenge herself turned his daughter into a goose and carried her off to this distant place. When Long Nose told her his story she said:

‘I know a little of these matters, and what you say shows me that you are under a herb enchantment – that is to say, that if you can find the herb whose smell woke you up the spell would be broken.’

This was but small comfort for Jem, for how and where was he to find the herb?

About this time the grand duke had a visit from a neighbouring prince, a friend of his. He sent for Long Nose and said to him:

‘Now is the time to show what you can really do. This prince who is staying with me has better dinners than any one except myself, and is a great judge of cooking. As long as he is here you must take care that my table shall be served in a manner to surprise him constantly. At the same time, on pain of my displeasure, take care that no dish shall appear twice. Get everything you wish and spare nothing. If you want to melt down gold and precious stones, do so. I would rather be a poor man than have to blush before him.’

The dwarf bowed and answered:

‘Your highness shall be obeyed. I will do all in my power to please you and the prince.’

From this time the little cook was hardly seen except in the kitchen, where, surrounded by his helpers, he gave orders, baked, stewed, flavoured and dished up all manner of dishes.

The prince had been a fortnight with the grand duke, and enjoyed himself mightily. They ate five times a day, and the duke had every reason to be content with the dwarf’s talents, for he saw how pleased his guest looked. On the fifteenth day the duke sent for the dwarf and presented him to the prince.

‘You are a wonderful cook,’ said the prince, ‘and you certainly know what is good. All the time I have been here you have never repeated a dish, and all were excellent. But tell me why you have never served the queen of all dishes, a Suzeraine Pasty?’

The dwarf felt frightened, for he had never heard of this Queen of Pasties before. But he did not lose his presence of mind, and replied:

‘I have waited, hoping that your highness’ visit here would last some time, for I proposed to celebrate the last day of your stay with this truly royal dish.’

‘Indeed,’ laughed the grand duke; ‘then I suppose you would have waited for the day of my death to treat me to it, for you have never sent it up to me yet. However, you will have to invent some other farewell dish, for the pasty must be on my table to-morrow.’

‘As your highness pleases,’ said the dwarf, and took leave.

But it did not please HIM at all. The moment of disgrace seemed at hand, for he had no idea how to make this pasty. He went to his rooms very sad. As he sat there lost in thought the goose Mimi, who was left free to walk about, came up to him and asked what was the matter? When she heard she said:

‘Cheer up, my friend. I know the dish quite well: we often had it at home, and I can guess pretty well how it was made.’ Then she told him what to put in, adding: ‘I think that will be all right, and if some trifle is left out perhaps they won’t find it out.’

Sure enough, next day a magnificent pasty all wreathed round with flowers was placed on the table. Jem himself put on his best clothes and went into the dining hall. As he entered the head carver was in the act of cutting up the pie and helping the duke and his guests. The grand duke took a large mouthful and threw up his eyes as he swallowed it.

‘Oh! oh! this may well be called the Queen of Pasties, and at the same time my dwarf must be called the king of cooks. Don’t you think so, dear friend?’

The prince took several small pieces, tasted and examined carefully, and then said with a mysterious and sarcastic smile:

‘The dish is very nicely made, but the Suzeraine is not quite complete – as I expected.’

The grand duke flew into a rage.

‘Dog of a cook,’ he shouted; ‘how dare you serve me so? I’ve a good mind to chop off your great head as a punishment.’

‘For mercy’s sake, don’t, your highness! I made the pasty according to the best rules; nothing has been left out. Ask the prince what else I should have put in.’

The prince laughed. ‘I was sure you could not make this dish as well as my cook, friend Long Nose. Know, then, that a herb is wanting called Relish, which is not known in this country, but which gives the pasty its peculiar flavour, and without which your master will never taste it to perfection.’

The grand duke was more furious than ever.

‘But I WILL taste it to perfection,’ he roared. ‘Either the pasty must be made properly to-morrow or this rascal’s head shall come off. Go, scoundrel, I give you twenty-four hours respite.’

The poor dwarf hurried back to his room, and poured out his grief to the goose.

‘Oh, is that all,’ said she, ‘then I can help you, for my father taught me to know all plants and herbs. Luckily this is a new moon just now, for the herb only springs up at such times. But tell me, are there chestnut trees near the palace?’

‘Oh, yes!’ cried Long Nose, much relieved; ‘near the lake – only a couple of hundred yards from the palace – is a large clump of them. But why do you ask?’

‘Because the herb only grows near the roots of chestnut trees,’ replied Mimi; ‘so let us lose no time in finding it. Take me under your arm and put me down out of doors, and I’ll hunt for it.’

He did as she bade, and as soon as they were in the garden put her on the ground, when she waddled off as fast as she could towards the lake, Jem hurrying after her with an anxious heart, for he knew that his life depended on her success. The goose hunted everywhere, but in vain. She searched under each chestnut tree, turning every blade of grass with her bill – nothing to be seen, and evening was drawing on!

Suddenly the dwarf noticed a big old tree standing alone on the other side of the lake. ‘Look,’ cried he, ‘let us try our luck there.’

The goose fluttered and skipped in front, and he ran after as fast as his little legs could carry him. The tree cast a wide shadow, and it was almost dark beneath it, but suddenly the goose stood still, flapped her wings with joy, and plucked something, which she held out to her astonished friend, saying: ‘There it is, and there is more growing here, so you will have no lack of it.’

The dwarf stood gazing at the plant. It gave out a strong sweet scent, which reminded him of the day of his enchantment. The stems and leaves were a bluish green, and it bore a dark, bright red flower with a yellow edge.

‘What a wonder!’ cried Long Nose. ‘I do believe this is the very herb which changed me from a squirrel into my present miserable form. Shall I try an experiment?’

‘Not yet,’ said the goose. ‘Take a good handful of the herb with you, and let us go to your rooms. We will collect all your money and clothes together, and then we will test the powers of the herb.’

So they went back to Jem’s rooms, and here he gathered together some fifty ducats he had saved, his clothes and shoes, and tied them all up in a bundle. Then he plunged his face into the bunch of herbs, and drew in their perfume.

As he did so, all his limbs began to crack and stretch; he felt his head rising above his shoulders; he glanced down at his nose, and saw it grow smaller and smaller; his chest and back grew flat, and his legs grew long.

The goose looked on in amazement. ‘Oh, how big and how beautiful you are!’ she cried. ‘Thank heaven, you are quite changed.’

Jem folded his hands in thanks, as his heart swelled with gratitude. But his joy did not make him forget all he owed to his friend Mimi.

‘I owe you my life and my release,’ he said, ‘for without you I should never have regained my natural shape, and, indeed, would soon have been beheaded. I will now take you back to your father, who will certainly know how to disenchant you.’

The goose accepted his offer with joy, and they managed to slip out of the palace unnoticed by anyone.

They got through the journey without accident, and the wizard soon released his daughter, and loaded Jem with thanks and valuable presents. He lost no time in hastening back to his native town, and his parents were very ready to recognise the handsome, well-made young man as their long-lost son. With the money given him by the wizard he opened a shop, which prospered well, and he lived long and happily.

I must not forget to mention that much disturbance was caused in the palace by Jem’s sudden disappearance, for when the grand duke sent orders next day to behead the dwarf, if he had not found the necessary herbs, the dwarf was not to be found. The prince hinted that the duke had allowed his cook to escape, and had therefore broken his word. The matter ended in a great war between the two princes, which was known in history as the ‘Herb War.’ After many battles and much loss of life, a peace was at last concluded, and this peace became known as the ‘Pasty Peace,’ because at the banquet given in its honour the prince’s cook dished up the Queen of Pasties – the Suzeraine – and the grand duke declared it to be quite excellent.

THE NUNDA, EATER OF PEOPLE

Once upon a time there lived a sultan who loved his garden dearly, and planted it with trees and flowers and fruits from all parts of the world. He went to see them three times every day: first at seven o’clock, when he got up, then at three, and lastly at half-past five. There was no plant and no vegetable which escaped his eye, but he lingered longest of all before his one date tree.

Now the sultan had seven sons. Six of them he was proud of, for they were strong and manly, but the youngest he disliked, for he spent all his time among the women of the house. The sultan had talked to him, and he paid no heed; and he had beaten him, and he paid no heed; and he had tied him up, and he paid no heed, till at last his father grew tired of trying to make him change his ways, and let him alone.

Time passed, and one day the sultan, to his great joy, saw signs of fruit on his date tree. And he told his vizir, ‘My date tree is bearing;’ and he told the officers, ‘My date tree is bearing;’ and he told the judges, ‘My date tree is bearing;’ and he told all the rich men of the town.

He waited patiently for some days till the dates were nearly ripe, and then he called his six sons, and said: ‘One of you must watch the date tree till the dates are ripe, for if it is not watched the slaves will steal them, and I shall not have any for another year.’

And the eldest son answered, ‘I will go, father,’ and he went.

The first thing the youth did was to summon his slaves, and bid them beat drums all night under the date tree, for he feared to fall asleep. So the slaves beat the drums, and the young man danced till four o’clock, and then it grew so cold he could dance no longer, and one of the slaves said to him: ‘It is getting light; the tree is safe; lie down, master, and go to sleep.’

So he lay down and slept, and his slaves slept likewise.

A few minutes went by, and a bird flew down from a neighbouring thicket, and ate all the dates, without leaving a single one. And when the tree was stripped bare, the bird went as it had come. Soon after, one of the slaves woke up and looked for the dates, but there were no dates to see. Then he ran to the young man and shook him, saying:

‘Your father set you to watch the tree, and you have not watched, and the dates have all been eaten by a bird.’

The lad jumped up and ran to the tree to see for himself, but there was not a date anywhere. And he cried aloud, ‘What am I to say to my father? Shall I tell him that the dates have been stolen, or that a great rain fell and a great storm blew? But he will send me to gather them up and bring them to him, and there are none to bring! Shall I tell him that Bedouins drove me away, and when I returned there were no dates? And he will answer, “You had slaves, did they not fight with the Bedouins?” It is the truth that will be best, and that will I tell him.’

Then he went straight to his father, and found him sitting in his verandah with his five sons round him; and the lad bowed his head.

‘Give me the news from the garden,’ said the sultan.

And the youth answered, ‘The dates have all been eaten by some bird: there is not one left.’

The sultan was silent for a moment: then he asked, ‘Where were you when the bird came?’

The lad answered: ‘I watched the date tree till the cocks were crowing and it was getting light; then I lay down for a little, and I slept. When I woke a slave was standing over me, and he said, “There is not one date left on the tree!” And I went to the date tree, and saw it was true; and that is what I have to tell you.’