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

‘What’s the good o’ that, Sir?’
Said the little bird.
‘Why it’s very Pat, Sir⁠—
Plain without a word.

‘Where ’tis all a hole, Sir,
Never can be holes:
Why should their shoes have soles, Sir,
When they’ve got no souls?’ ”

“What’s that horrible noise?” cried the queen, shuddering from pot-metal head to granite shoes.

“I declare,” said the king with solemn indignation, “it’s the sun-creature in the hole!”

“Stop that disgusting noise!” cried the crown prince valiantly, getting up and standing in front of the heap of stones, with his face towards Curdie’s prison. “Do now, or I’ll break your head.”

“Break away,” shouted Curdie, and began singing again:

“Once there was a goblin,
Living in a hole⁠—”

“I really cannot bear it,” said the queen. “If I could only get at his horrid toes with my slippers again!”

“I think we had better go to bed,” said the king.

“It’s not time to go to bed,” said the queen.

“I would if I was you,” said Curdie.

“Impertinent wretch!” said the queen, with the utmost scorn in her voice.

“An impossible if,” said His Majesty with dignity.

“Quite,” returned Curdie, and began singing again:

“Go to bed,
Goblin, do.
Help the queen
Take off her shoe.

If you do,
It will disclose
A horrid set
Of sprouting toes.”

“What a lie!” roared the queen in a rage.

“By the way, that reminds me,” said the king, “that for as long as we have been married, I have never seen your feet, queen. I think you might take off your shoes when you go to bed! They positively hurt me sometimes.”

“I will do as I like,” retorted the queen sulkily.

“You ought to do as your own hubby wishes you,” said the king.

“I will not,” said the queen.

“Then I insist upon it,” said the king.

Apparently His Majesty approached the queen for the purpose of following the advice given by Curdie, for the latter heard a scuffle, and then a great roar from the king.

“Will you be quiet, then?” said the queen wickedly.

“Yes, yes, queen. I only meant to coax you.”

“Hands off!” cried the queen triumphantly. “I’m going to bed. You may come when you like. But as long as I am queen I will sleep in my shoes. It is my royal privilege. Harelip, go to bed.”

“I’m going,” said Harelip sleepily.

“So am I,” said the king.

“Come along, then,” said the queen; “and mind you are good, or I’ll⁠—”

“Oh, no, no, no!” screamed the king in the most supplicating of tones.

Curdie heard only a muttered reply in the distance; and then the cave was quite still.

They had left the fire burning, and the light came through brighter than before. Curdie thought it was time to try again if anything could be done. But he found he could not get even a finger through the chink between the slab and the rock. He gave a great rush with his shoulder against the slab, but it yielded no more than if it had been part of the rock. All he could do was to sit down and think again.

By and by he came to the resolution to pretend to be dying, in the hope they might take him out before his strength was too much exhausted to let him have a chance. Then, for the creatures, if he could but find his axe again, he would have no fear of them; and if it were not for the queen’s horrid shoes, he would have no fear at all.

Meantime, until they should come again at night, there was nothing for him to do but forge new rhymes, now his only weapons. He had no intention of using them at present, of course; but it was well to have a stock, for he might live to want them, and the manufacture of them would help to while away the time.

That same morning early, the princess woke in a terrible fright. There was a hideous noise in her room⁠—creatures snarling and hissing and rocketing about as if they were fighting. The moment she came to herself, she remembered something she had never thought of again⁠—what her grandmother told her to do when she was frightened. She immediately took off her ring and put it under her pillow. As she did so she fancied she felt a finger and thumb take it gently from under her palm. “It must be my grandmother!” she said to herself, and the thought gave her such courage that she stopped to put on her dainty little slippers before running from the room. While doing this she caught sight of a long cloak of sky-blue, thrown over the back of a chair by the bedside. She had never seen it before but it was evidently waiting for her. She put it on, and then, feeling with the forefinger of her right hand, soon found her grandmother’s thread, which she proceeded at once to follow, expecting it would lead her straight up the old stair. When she reached the door she found it went down and ran along the floor, so that she had almost to crawl in order to keep a hold of it. Then, to her surprise, and somewhat to her dismay, she found that instead of leading her towards the stair it turned in quite the opposite direction. It led her through certain narrow passages towards the kitchen, turning aside ere she reached it, and guiding her to a door which communicated with a small back yard. Some of the maids were already up, and this door was standing open. Across the yard the thread still ran along the ground, until it brought her to a door in the wall which opened upon the mountainside. When she had passed through, the thread rose to about half her height, and she could hold it with ease as she walked. It led her straight up the mountain.

The cause of her alarm was less frightful than she supposed. The cook’s great black cat, pursued by the housekeeper’s terrier, had bounced against her bedroom door,