VIEW THE MOBILE VERSION of www.childrenstories.ca Informational Site Network Informational
Privacy
Home - Stories - Categories - Books - Search

Featured Stories

The Little Robber Girl
The Boy Who Cried Wolf

Categories

A FAIRY-TALE

Aesop

ALPHABET RHYMES

AMERICAN INDIAN STORIES

AMUSING ALPHABETS

Animal Sketches And Stories

ANIMAL STORIES

ARBOR DAY

BIRD DAY

Blondine Bonne Biche and Beau Minon

Bohemian Story

BRER RABBIT and HIS NEIGHBORS

CATS

CHINESE MOTHER-GOOSE RHYMES

CHRISTMAS DAY

COLUMBUS DAY

CUSTOM RHYMES

Didactic Stories

Everyday Verses

EVIL SPIRITS

FABLES

FABLES FOR CHILDREN

FABLES FROM INDIA

FATHER PLAYS AND MOTHER PLAYS

FIRST STORIES FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK

For Classes Ii. And Iii.

For Classes Iv. And V.

For Kindergarten And Class I.

FUN FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK

GERMAN

Good Little Henry

HALLOWEEN

Happy Days

INDEPENDENCE DAY

JAPANESE AND OTHER ORIENTAL TALES]

Jean De La Fontaine

King Alexander's Adventures

KINGS AND WARRIORS

LABOR DAY

LAND AND WATER FAIRIES

Lessons From Nature

LINCOLN'S BIRTHDAY

LITTLE STORIES that GROW BIG

Love Lyrics

Lyrics

MAY DAY

MEMORIAL DAY

Modern

MODERN FABLES

MODERN FAIRY TALES

MOTHER GOOSE CONTINUED

MOTHER GOOSE JINGLES

MOTHER GOOSE SONGS AND STORIES

MOTHERS' DAY

Myths And Legends

NATURE SONGS

NEGLECT THE FIRE

NUMBER RHYMES

NURSERY GAMES

NURSERY-SONGS.

NURSEY STORIES

OLD-FASHIONED STORIES

ON POPULAR EDUCATION

OURSON

Perseus

PLACES AND FAMILIES

Poems Of Nature

Polish Story

Popular

PROVERB RHYMES

RESURRECTION DAY (EASTER)

RHYMES CONCERNING "MOTHER"

RIDDLE RHYMES

RIDING SONGS for FATHER'S KNEE

ROMANCES OF THE MIDDLE AGES

SAINT VALENTINE'S DAY

Selections From The Bible

Servian Story

SLEEPY-TIME SONGS AND STORIES

Some Children's Poets

Songs Of Life

STORIES BY FAVORITE AMERICAN WRITERS

STORIES FOR CHILDREN

STORIES for LITTLE BOYS

STORIES FROM BOTANY

STORIES FROM GREAT BRITAIN

STORIES FROM IRELAND

STORIES FROM PHYSICS

STORIES FROM SCANDINAVIA

STORIES FROM ZOOLOGY

STORIES _for_ LITTLE GIRLS

SUPERSITITIONS

THANKSGIVING DAY

The Argonauts

THE CANDLE

THE DAYS OF THE WEEK

THE DECEMBRISTS

The King Of The Golden River; Or, The Black Brothers

The Little Grey Mouse

THE OLD FAIRY TALES

The Princess Rosette

THE THREE HERMITS

THE TWO OLD MEN

Theseus

Traditional

UNCLES AND AUNTS AND OTHER RELATIVES

VERSES ABOUT FAIRIES

WASHINGTON'S BIRTHDAY

WHAT MEN LIVE BY

WHERE LOVE IS, THERE GOD IS ALSO

The Fair One With Golden Locks

from The Best Popular Stories Selected And Rendered Anew





There was once a king's daughter so beautiful that they named her the
Fair One with Golden Locks. These golden locks were the most
remarkable in the world, soft and fine, and falling in long waves down
to her very feet. She wore them always thus, loose and flowing,
surmounted with a wreath of flowers; and though such long hair was
sometimes rather inconvenient, it was so exceedingly beautiful,
shining in the sun like ripples of molten gold, that everybody agreed
she fully deserved her name.

Now there was a young king of a neighbouring country, very handsome,
very rich, and wanting nothing but a wife to make him happy. He heard
so much of the various perfections of the Fair One with Golden Locks,
that at last, without even seeing her, he fell in love with her so
desperately that he could neither eat nor drink, and resolved to send
an ambassador at once to demand her in marriage. So he ordered a
magnificent equipage--more than a hundred horses and a hundred
footmen--in order to bring back to him the Fair One with Golden Locks,
who, he never doubted, would be only too happy to become his queen.
Indeed, he felt so sure of her that he refurnished the whole palace,
and had made, by all the dressmakers of the city, dresses enough to
last a lady for a lifetime. But, alas! when the ambassador arrived and
delivered his message, either the princess was in a bad humor, or the
offer did not appear to be to her taste; for she returned her best
thanks to his majesty, but said she had not the slightest wish or
intention to be married. She also, being a prudent damsel, declined
receiving any of the presents which the king had sent her; except
that, not quite to offend his majesty, she retained a box of English
pins, which were in that country of considerable value.

When the ambassador returned, alone and unsuccessful, all the court
was very much affected, and the king himself began to weep with all
his might. Now, there was in the palace household a young gentleman
named Avenant, beautiful as the sun, besides being at once so amiable
and so wise that the king confided to him all his affairs; and every
one loved him, except those people--to be found in all courts--who
were envious of his good fortune. These malicious folk hearing him say
gaily, If the king had sent me to fetch the Fair One with Golden
Locks, I know she would have come back with me, repeated the saying
in such a manner, that it appeared as if Avenant thought so much of
himself and his beauty, and felt sure the princess would have followed
him all over the world; which when it came to the ears of the king, as
it was meant to do, irritated him so much that he commanded Avenant to
be imprisoned in a high tower, and left to die there of hunger. The
guards accordingly carried off the young man, who had quite forgotten
his idle speech, and had not the least idea what fault he had
committed. They ill-treated him very much, and then left him, with
nothing to eat and only water to drink. This, however, kept him alive
for a few days, during which he did not cease to complain aloud, and
to call upon the king, saying, O king, what harm have I done? You
have no subject more faithful than I. Never have I had a thought which
could offend you.

And it so befell that the king, coming by chance, or else with a sort
of remorse, past the tower, was touched by the voice of the young
Avenant, whom he had once so much regarded. In spite of all the
courtiers could do to prevent him, he stopped to listen, and overheard
these words. The tears rushed into his eyes; he opened the door of the
tower, and called, Avenant! Avenant came, creeping feebly along,
fell at the king's knees, and kissed his feet:

O sire, what have I done that you should treat me so cruelly?

You have mocked me and my ambassador; for you said, if I had sent you
to fetch the Fair One with Golden Locks, you would have been
successful and brought her back.

I did say it, and it was true, replied Avenant fearlessly; for I
should have told her so much about your majesty and your various high
qualities, which no one knows so well as myself, that I am persuaded
she would have returned with me.

I believe it, said the king, with an angry look at those who had
spoken ill of his favourite; he then gave Avenant a free pardon, and
took him back with him to the court.

After having supplied the famished youth with as much supper as he
could eat, the king admitted him to a private audience, and said, I
am as much in love as ever with the Fair One with Golden Locks, so I
will take thee at thy word, and send thee to try and win her for me.

Very well, please your majesty, replied Avenant cheerfully; I will
depart to-morrow.

The king, overjoyed with his willingness and hopefulness, would have
furnished him with a still more magnificent equipage and suite than
the first ambassador; but Avenant refused to take anything except a
good horse to ride, and letters of introduction to the princess's
father. The king embraced him and eagerly saw him depart.

It was on a Monday morning when, without any pomp or show, Avenant
thus started on his mission. He rode slowly and meditatively,
pondering over every possible means of persuading the Fair One with
Golden Locks to marry the king; but, even after several days' journey
towards her country, no clear project had entered into his mind. One
morning, when he had started at break of day, he came to a great
meadow with a stream running through it, along which were planted
willows and poplars. It was such a pleasant, rippling stream that he
dismounted and sat down on its banks. There he perceived, gasping on
the grass, a large golden carp, which, in leaping too far after gnats,
had thrown itself quite out of the water, and now lay dying on the
greensward. Avenant took pity on it, and though he was very hungry,
and the fish was very fat, and he would well enough have liked it for
his breakfast, still he lifted it gently and put it back into the
stream. No sooner had the carp touched the fresh cool water than it
revived and swam away; but shortly returning, it spoke to him from the
water in this wise:--

Avenant, I thank you for your good deed. I was dying, and you have
saved me: I will recompense you for this one day.

After this pretty little speech, the fish popped down to the bottom of
the stream, according to the habit of carp, leaving Avenant very much
astonished, as was natural.

Another day he met with a raven that was in great distress, being
pursued by an eagle, which would have swallowed him up in no time.
See, thought Avenant, how the stronger oppress the weaker! What
right has an eagle to eat up a raven? So taking his bow and arrow,
which he always carried, he shot the eagle dead, and the raven,
delighted, perched in safety on an opposite tree.

Avenant, screeched he, though not in the sweetest voice in the
world; you have generously succoured me, a poor miserable raven. I
am not ungrateful, and I will recompense you one day.

Thank you, said Avenant, and continued his road.

Entering in a thick wood, so dark with the shadows of early morning
that he could scarcely find his way, he heard an owl hooting, like an
owl in great tribulation. She had been caught by the nets spread by
birdcatchers to entrap finches, larks, and other small birds. What a
pity, thought Avenant, that men must always torment poor birds and
beasts who have done them no harm! So he took out his knife, cut the
net, and let the owl go free. She went sailing up into the air, but
immediately returned hovering over his head on her brown wings.

Avenant, said she, at daylight the birdcatchers would have been
here, and I should have been caught and killed. I have a grateful
heart; I will recompense you one day.

These were the three principal adventures that befell Avenant on his
way to the kingdom of the Fair One with Golden Locks. Arrived there,
he dressed himself with the greatest care, in a habit of silver
brocade, and a hat adorned with plumes of scarlet and white. He threw
over all a rich mantle, and carried a little basket, in which was a
lovely little dog, an offering of respect to the princess. With this
he presented himself at the palace-gates, where, even though he came
alone, his mien was so dignified and graceful, so altogether charming,
that every one did him reverence, and was eager to run and tell the
Fair One with Golden Locks, that Avenant another ambassador from the
king her suitor, awaited an audience.

Avenant! repeated the princess, That is a pretty name; perhaps the
youth is pretty too.

So beautiful, said the ladies of honour, that while he stood under
the palace-window we could do nothing but look at him.

How silly of you! sharply said the princess. But she desired them to
bring her robe of blue satin to comb out her long hair, and adorn it
with the freshest garland of flowers; to give her her high-heeled
shoes, and her fan. Also, added she, take care that my
audience-chamber is well swept and my throne well dusted. I wish in
everything to appear as becomes the Fair One with Golden Locks.

This done, she seated herself on her throne of ivory and ebony, and
gave orders for her musicians to play, but softly, so as not to
disturb conversation. Thus, shining in all her beauty, she admitted
Avenant to her presence.

He was so dazzled that at first he could not speak: then he began and
delivered his harangue to perfection.

Gentle Avenant, returned the princess, after listening to all his
reasons for her returning with him, your arguments are very strong,
and I am inclined to listen to them; but you must first find for me a
ring, which I dropped into the river about a month ago. Until I
recover it, I can listen to no propositions of marriage.

Avenant, surprised and disturbed, made her a profound reverence and
retired, taking with him the basket and the little dog Cabriole, which
she refused to accept. All night long he sat sighing to himself, How
can I ever find a ring which she dropped into the river a month ago?
She has set me an impossibility.

My dear master, said Cabriole, nothing is an impossibility to one
so young and charming as you are: let us go at daybreak to the
river-side.

Avenant patted him, but replied nothing: until, worn out with grief,
he slept. Before dawn Cabriole wakened him, saying, Master, dress
yourself and let us go to the river.

There Avenant walked up and down, with his arms folded and his head
bent, but saw nothing. At last he heard a voice, calling from a
distance, Avenant, Avenant!

The little dog ran to the water-side--Never believe me again, master,
if it is not a golden carp with a ring in its mouth!

Yes, Avenant, said the carp, this is the ring which the princess
has lost. You saved my life in the willow meadow, and I have
recompensed you. Farewell!

Avenant took the ring gratefully and returned to the palace with
Cabriole, who scampered about in great glee. Craving an audience, he
presented the princess with her ring, and begged her to accompany him
to his master's kingdom. She took the ring, looked at it, and thought
she was surely dreaming.

Some fairy must have assisted you, fortunate Avenant, said she.

Madam, I am only fortunate in my desire to obey your wishes.

Obey me still, she said graciously. There is a prince named
Galifron, whose suit I have refused. He is a giant as tall as a tower,
who eats a man as a monkey eats a nut: he puts cannons into his
pockets instead of pistols; and when he speaks, his voice is so loud
that every one near him becomes deaf. Go and fight him, and bring me
his head.

Avenant was thunderstruck; but after a time he recovered
himself--Very well, madam. I shall certainly perish, but I will
perish like a brave man. I will depart at once to fight the Giant
Galifron.

The princess, now in her turn surprised and alarmed, tried every
persuasion to induce him not to go, but in vain. Avenant armed himself
and started, carrying his little dog in its basket. Cabriole was the
only creature that gave him consolation: Courage, master! While you
attack the giant, I will bite his legs: he will stoop down to strike
me, and then you can knock him on the head. Avenant smiled at the
little dog's spirit, but he knew it was useless.

Arrived at the castle of Galifron, he found the road all strewn with
bones, and carcases of men. Soon he saw the giant walking. His head
was level with the highest trees, and he sang in a terrific voice--

Bring me babies to devour;
More--more--more--more--
Men and women, tender and tough;
All the world holds not enough.

To which Avenant replied, imitating the tune--

Avenant you here may see,
He is come to punish thee:
Be he tender, be he tough,
To kill thee, giant, he is enough.

Hearing these words, the giant took up his massive club, looked around
for the singer, and, perceiving him, would have slain him on the spot,
had not a raven, sitting on a tree close by, suddenly flown out upon
him and picked out both his eyes. Then Avenant easily killed him and
cut off his head, while the raven, watching him, said--

You shot the eagle who was pursuing me: I promised to recompense you,
and to-day I have done it. We are quits.

No, it is I who am your debtor, Sir Raven, replied Avenant, as,
hanging the frightful head to his saddle-bow, he mounted his horse and
rode back to the city of the Fair One with Golden Locks.

There everybody followed him, shouting, Here is brave Avenant, who
has killed the giant, until the princess, hearing the noise, and
fearing it was Avenant himself who was killed, appeared, all
trembling; and even when he appeared with Galifron's head, she
trembled still, although she had nothing to fear.

Madam, said Avenant, your enemy is dead: so I trust you will accept
the hand of the king my master.

I cannot, replied she thoughtfully, unless you first bring me a
phial of the water in the Grotto of Darkness. It is six leagues in
length, and guarded at the entrance by two fiery dragons. Within it is
a pit, full of scorpions, lizards, and serpents, and at the bottom of
this place flows the Fountain of Beauty and Health. All who wash in it
become, if ugly, beautiful, and if beautiful, beautiful for ever; if
old, young; and if young, young for ever. Judge then, Avenant, if I
can quit my kingdom without carrying with me some of this miraculous
water.

Madam, replied Avenant, you are already so beautiful that you
require it not; but I am an unfortunate ambassador whose death you
desire: I will obey you, though I know I shall never return.

So he departed with his only friends--his horse and his faithful dog
Cabriole; while all who met him looked at him compassionately, pitying
so pretty a youth bound on such a hopeless errand. But, however kindly
they addressed him, Avenant rode on and answered nothing, for he was
too sad at heart.

He reached a mountain-side, where he sat down to rest, leaving his
horse to graze, and Cabriole to run after the flies. He knew that the
Grotto of Darkness was not far off, yet he looked about him like one
who sees nothing. At last he perceived a rock, as black as ink, whence
came a thick smoke; and in a moment appeared one of the two dragons,
breathing out flames. It had a yellow and green body, claws, and a
long tail. When Cabriole saw the monster, the poor little dog hid
himself in terrible fright. But Avenant resolved to die bravely; so,
taking a phial which the princess had given him, he prepared to
descend into the cave.

Cabriole, said he, I shall soon be dead: then fill this phial with
my blood, and carry it to the Fair One with Golden Locks, and
afterwards to the king my master, to show him I have been faithful to
the last.

While he was thus speaking, a voice called, Avenant, Avenant!--and
he saw an owl sitting on a hollow tree. Said the owl: You cut the net
in which I was caught, and I vowed to recompense you. Now is the time.
Give me the phial: I know every corner of the Grotto of Darkness--I
will fetch you the water of beauty.

Delighted beyond words, Avenant delivered up his phial; the owl flew
with it into the grotto, and in less than half-an-hour reappeared,
bringing it quite full and well corked. Avenant thanked her with all
his heart, and joyfully took once more the road to the city.

The Fair One with Golden Locks had no more to say. She consented to
accompany him back, with all her suite, to his master's court. On the
way thither, she saw so much of him, and found him so charming, that
Avenant might have married her himself had he chosen; but he would not
have been false to his master for all the beauties under the sun. At
length they arrived at the king's city, and the Fair One with Golden
Locks became his spouse and queen. But she still loved Avenant in her
heart, and often said to the king her lord--But for Avenant I should
not be here; he has done all sorts of impossible deeds for my sake; he
has fetched me the water of beauty, and I shall never grow old--in
short, I owe him everything.

And she praised him in this sort so much, that at length the king
became jealous; and though Avenant gave him not the slightest cause of
offence, he shut him up in the same high tower once more--but with
irons on his hands and feet, and a cruel jailer besides, who fed him
with bread and water only. His sole companion was his little dog
Cabriole.

When the Fair One with Golden Locks heard of this, she reproached her
husband for his ingratitude, and then, throwing herself at his knees,
implored that Avenant might be set free. But the king only said, She
loves him! and refused her prayer. The queen entreated no more, but
fell into a deep melancholy.

When the king saw it, he thought she did not care for him because he
was not handsome enough; and that if he could wash his face with her
water of beauty, it would make her love him more. He knew that she
kept it in a cabinet in her chamber, where she could find it always.

Now it happened that a waiting-maid, in cleaning out this cabinet,
had, the very day before knocked down the phial, which was broken in a
thousand pieces, and all the contents were lost. Very much alarmed,
she then remembered seeing, in a cabinet belonging to the king, a
similar phial. This she fetched, and put in the place of the other
one, in which was the water of beauty. But the king's phial contained
the water of death. It was a poison, used to destroy great
criminals--that is, noblemen, gentlemen, and such like. Instead of
hanging them or cutting their heads off, like common people, they were
compelled to wash their faces with this water; upon which they fell
asleep, and woke no more. So it happened that the king, taking up this
phial, believing it to be the water of beauty, washed his face with
it, fell asleep, and--died.

Cabriole heard the news, and, gliding in and out among the crowd which
clustered round the young and lovely widow, whispered softly to
her--Madam, do not forget poor Avenant. If she had been disposed to
do so, the sight of his little dog would have been enough to remind
her of him--his many sufferings, and his great fidelity. She rose up,
without speaking to anybody, and went straight to the tower where
Avenant was confined. There, with her own hands, she struck off his
chains, and putting a crown of gold on his head, and a purple mantle
on his shoulders, said to him, Be king--and my husband.

Avenant could not refuse; for in his heart he had loved her all the
time. He threw himself at her feet, and then took the crown and
sceptre, and ruled her kingdom like a king. All the people were
delighted to have him as their sovereign. The marriage was celebrated
in all imaginable pomp, and Avenant and the Fair One with Golden Locks
lived and reigned happily together all their days.





Next: The Butterfly

Previous: The Wolf And The Seven Young Goslings



Add to del.icio.us Add to Reddit Add to Digg Add to Del.icio.us Add to Google Add to Twitter Add to Stumble Upon
Add to Informational Site Network
Report
Privacy
SHAREADD TO EBOOK



Viewed: 1329