She was now scarcely able to speak, but managed to gasp, "Still warm, King Frost."
The gentle girl"s patience and uncomplaining endurance caused King Frost to take pity on her suffering. He arrayed her in a robe, embroidered in silver and gold, and decked her with sparkling diamonds. She glittered and shone, and was dazzling to behold. Then placing her in his sleigh, he wrapped her in furs; and six white horses bore them swiftly away.
The stepmother, at home, was baking pancakes for the girl"s funeral feast. "Go in the field," she said to her husband, "and bring your daughter"s body home, so we can bury her." The old man rose to obey, when the little dog barked:
"Your daughter shall not die; Her"s cold and stiff shall lie."
The woman kicked the dog, then tried to coax it with a pancake, telling it to say:
"Her daughter shall have gold; His be frozen stiff and cold."
When the little dog had swallowed the pancake, he barked:
"His daughter shall be wed; Her"s shall be frozen dead."
The woman beat the dog, then coaxed it with more pancakes; but the blows could not terrify it nor food persuade. It barked always the same. Suddenly the door opened, and a huge chest was thrust into the room, followed by the radiant stepdaughter, in a dress that dazzled them with its beauty.
As soon as the stepmother recovered from her astonishment, she ordered her husband to yoke the horses to the sledge, and take her own daughter to the field. "Take care you leave her in the same place,"
the old woman cautioned. The father left the girl as he was bidden, and returned to his home.
She was not long alone when King Frost came by.
"Are you warm, maiden?" he asked.
"You must be a fool not to see that my hands and feet are nearly frozen," she angrily replied.
The King danced in front of her, and cracked his fingers.
"Are you warm, maiden?" he asked her, over and over. She cried with rage, and called him rude names, until he froze the words on her lips, and she was dead.
The mother waited for her daughter"s return until she became impatient; then she told her husband to take the sledge and go for her. "But don"t lose the chest," she added.
The dog under the table, barked:
"Your daughter frozen cold, Will never need a chest of gold."
The old woman was scolding the dog for telling lies, when the door opened. Rushing out to welcome her daughter and her treasures, she clasped the frozen body in her arms; and the chill of it killed her.
TALES FOR TINY TOTS
TELL US A TALE
BY EDWARD SHIRLEY
"Tell us a tale, dear mother-- A fairy tale, do, please, Take baby brother on your lap, We"ll sit beside your knees, We will not speak, we will not stir, Until the tale is told; And we"ll be, oh! so comfy, And just as good as gold."
"What shall it be, my children?
Aladdin and his Lamp?
Or shall I tell the story Of Puss in Boots--the scamp?
Or would you like to hear the tale Of Blue Beard, fierce and grim?
Or Jack who climbed the great beanstalk?-- I think you"re fond of him.
"Or shall I tell you, children, About Red Riding Hood?
Or what befell those little Babes Who wandered in the Wood?
Or how sweet Cinderella went So gaily to the ball?"
"Yes, yes!" we cried, and clapped our hands; "_We want to hear them all_!"
LITTLE RED HEN
Little Red Hen found a grain of wheat.
"Who will plant this?" she asked.
"Not I," said the cat.
"Not I," said the goose.
"Not I," said the rat.
"Then I will," said Little Red Hen.
So she buried the wheat in the ground. After a while it grew up yellow and ripe.
"The wheat is ripe now," said Little Red Hen. "Who will cut and thresh it?"
"Not I," said the cat.
"Not I," said the goose.
"Not I," said the rat.
"Then I will," said Little Red Hen.
So she cut it with her bill and threshed it with her wings. Then she asked, "Who will take this wheat to the mill?"
"Not I," said the cat.