The Princess and the Goblin, George MacDonald [uplifting books for women .TXT] 📗

The Princess and the Goblin

By George MacDonald.

Table of Contents Titlepage Imprint I: Why the Princess Has a Story About Her II: The Princess Loses Herself III: The Princess and—We Shall See Who IV: What the Nurse Thought of It V: The Princess Lets Well Alone VI: The Little Miner VII: The Mines VIII: The Goblins IX: The Hall of the Goblin Palace X: The Princess’s King-Papa XI: The Old Lady’s Bedroom XII: A Short Chapter About Curdie XIII: The Cobs’ Creatures XIV: That Night Week XV: Woven and Then Spun XVI: The Ring XVII: Springtime XVIII: Curdie’s Clue XIX: Goblin Counsels XX: Irene’s Clue XXI: The Escape XXII: The Old Lady and Curdie XXIII: Curdie and His Mother XXIV: Irene Behaves Like a Princess XXV: Curdie Comes to Grief XXVI: The Goblin-Miners XXVII: The Goblins in the King’s House XXVIII: Curdie’s Guide XXIX: Masonwork XXX: The King and the Kiss XXXI: The Subterranean Waters XXXII: The Last Chapter Colophon Uncopyright Imprint

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I Why the Princess Has a Story About Her

There was once a little princess whose father was king over a great country full of mountains and valleys. His palace was built upon one of the mountains, and was very grand and beautiful. The princess, whose name was Irene, was born there, but she was sent soon after her birth, because her mother was not very strong, to be brought up by country people in a large house, half castle, half farmhouse, on the side of another mountain, about halfway between its base and its peak.

The princess was a sweet little creature, and at the time my story begins was about eight years old, I think, but she got older very fast. Her face was fair and pretty, with eyes like two bits of night sky, each with a star dissolved in the blue. Those eyes you would have thought must have known they came from there, so often were they turned up in that direction. The ceiling of her nursery was blue, with stars in it, as like the sky as they could make it. But I doubt if ever she saw the real sky with the stars in it, for a reason which I had better mention at once.

These mountains were full of hollow places underneath; huge caverns, and winding ways, some with water running through them, and some shining with all colours of the rainbow when a light was taken in. There would not have been much known about them, had there not been mines there, great deep pits, with long galleries and passages running off from them, which had been dug to get at the ore of which the mountains were full. In the course of digging, the miners came upon many of these natural caverns. A few of them had far-off openings out on the side of a mountain, or into a ravine.

Now in these subterranean caverns lived a strange race of beings, called by some gnomes, by some kobolds, by some goblins. There was a legend current in the country that at one time they lived above ground, and were very like other people. But for some reason or other, concerning which there were different legendary theories, the king had laid what they thought too severe taxes upon them, or had required observances of them they did not like, or had begun to treat them with more severity, in some way or other, and impose stricter laws; and the consequence was that they had all disappeared from the face of the country. According to the legend, however, instead of going to some other country, they had all taken refuge in the subterranean caverns, whence they never came out but at night, and then seldom showed themselves in any numbers, and never to many people at once. It was only in the least frequented and most difficult parts of the mountains that they were said to gather even at night in the open air. Those who had caught sight of any of them said that they had greatly altered in the course of generations; and no wonder, seeing they lived away from the sun, in cold and wet and dark places. They were now, not ordinarily ugly, but either absolutely hideous, or ludicrously grotesque both in face and form. There was no invention, they said, of the most lawless imagination expressed by pen or pencil, that could surpass the extravagance of their appearance. But I suspect those who said so had mistaken some of their animal companions for the goblins themselves⁠—of which more by and by. The goblins themselves were not so far removed from the human as such a description would imply. And as they grew misshapen in body they had grown in knowledge and cleverness, and now were able to do things no mortal