The Green Fairy Book | Page 2

now,
because that kind of monster is no longer going about the world,
whatever he may have done long, long ago. He has been turned into
stone, and you may see his remains in museums. Therefore, I am not
afraid that you will be afraid of the magicians and dragons; besides,
you see that a really brave boy or girl was always their master, even in

the height of their power.
Some of the tales here, like The Half-Chick, are for very little children;
others for older ones. The longest tales, like Heart of Ice, were not
invented when the others were, but were written in French, by clever
men and women, such as Madame d'Aulnoy, and the Count de Caylus,
about two hundred years ago. There are not many people now, perhaps
there are none, who can write really good fairy tales, because they do
not believe enough in their own stories, and because they want to be
wittier than it has pleased Heaven to make them.
So here we give you the last of the old stories, for the present, and hope
you will like them, and feel grateful to the Brothers Grimm, who took
them down from the telling of old women, and to M. Sebillot and M.
Charles Marelles, who have lent us some tales from their own French
people, and to Mr. Ford, who drew the pictures, and to the ladies, Miss
Blackley, Miss Alma Alleyne, Miss Eleanor Sellar, Miss May Sellar,
Miss Wright, and Mrs. Lang, who translated many of the tales out of
French, German, and other languages.
If we have a book for you next year, it shall not be a fairy book. What it
is to be is a secret, but we hope that it will not be dull. So good-bye,
and when you have read a fairy book, lend it to other children who have
none, or tell them the stories in your own way, which is a very pleasant
mode of passing the time.

Contents
The Blue Bird The Half-Chick The Story of Caliph Stork The
Enchanted Watch Rosanella Sylvain and Jocosa Fairy Gifts Prince
Narcissus and the Princess Potentilla Prince Featherhead and the
Princess Celandine The Three Little Pigs Heart of Ice The Enchanted
Ring The Snuff-box The Golden Blackbird The Little Soldier The
Magic Swan The Dirty Shepherdess The Enchanted Snake The Biter
Bit King Kojata Prince Fickle and Fair Helena Puddocky The Story of
Hok Lee and the Dwarfs The Story of the Three Bears Prince Vivien

and the Princess Placida Little One-eye, Little Two-eyes, and Little
Three-eyes Jorinde and Joringel Allerleirauh; or, the Many-furred
Creature The Twelve Huntsmen Spindle, Shuttle, and Needle The
Crystal Coffin The Three Snake-leaves The Riddle Jack my Hedgehog
The Golden Lads The White Snake The Story of a Clever Tailor The
Golden Mermaid The War of the Wolf and the Fox The Story of the
Fisherman and his Wife The Three Musicians The Three Dogs

THE BLUE BIRD

Once upon a time there lived a King who was immensely rich. He had
broad lands, and sacks overflowing with gold and silver; but he did not
care a bit for all his riches, because the Queen, his wife, was dead. He
shut himself up in a little room and knocked his head against the walls
for grief, until his courtiers were really afraid that he would hurt
himself. So they hung feather-beds between the tapestry and the walls,
and then he could go on knocking his head as long as it was any
consolation to him without coming to much harm. All his subjects
came to see him, and said whatever they thought would comfort him:
some were grave, even gloomy with him; and some agreeable, even gay;
but not one could make the least impression upon him. Indeed, he
hardly seemed to hear what they said. At last came a lady who was
wrapped in a black mantle, and seemed to be in the deepest grief. She
wept and sobbed until even the King's attention was attracted; and
when she said that, far from coming to try and diminish his grief, she,
who had just lost a good husband, was come to add her tears to his,
since she knew what he must be feeling, the King redoubled his
lamentations. Then he told the sorrowful lady long stories about the
good qualities of his departed Queen, and she in her turn recounted all
the virtues of her departed husband; and this passed the time so
agreeably that the King quite forgot to thump his head against the
feather-beds, and the lady did not need to wipe the tears from her great
blue eyes as often as before. By degrees they came to talking about
other things in which the