The Halcyon Fairy Book

save some lepers. Learn from your mistakes.”
Ermellina said they need not worry, that she would not open to anyone. But it was not so; for the eagle, thinking to increase her stepmother’s anger, told her again that Ermellina was alive.
Whatever you might think of Snow White’s bluebirds, at least they didn’t go start shit with the Queen.
The stepmother denied it all to the eagle, but she summoned anew the witch, and told her that her stepdaughter was still alive, saying, “Either you will really kill her, or I will be avenged on you.”
The old woman, finding herself caught, told her to buy a very handsome dress, one of the handsomest she could find, and transformed herself into a tailoress belonging to the family, took the dress, departed, went to poor Ermellina, knocked at the door and said, “Open, open, for I am your tailoress.”
Ermellina looked out of the window and saw her tailoress; and was, in truth, a little confused (indeed, anyone would have been so).
“Gee, the last time somebody disguised themselves as somebody I knew, but surely this could never happen again!”
The tailoress said, “Come down, I must fit a dress on you.”
She replied, “No, no; for I have been deceived once.”
“But I am not the old woman,” replied the tailoress, “you know me, for I have always made your dresses.”
WHAT old woman? Who mentioned an old woman? Where do old women come into this? The last one was disguised as a servant girl.
Poor Ermellina was persuaded, and descended the stairs; the tailoress took to flight while Ermellina was yet buttoning up the dress, and disappeared. Ermellina closed the door, and was mounting the stairs; but it was not permitted her to go up, for she fell down dead.
Let us return to the fairies, who came home and knocked at the door; but what good did it do to knock! There was no longer anyone there. They began to weep. The chief of the fairies said, “I told you that she would betray me again; but now I will have nothing more to do with her.”
“We’re all invited to a party at the leper’s house, though!”
So they broke open the door, and saw the poor girl with the beautiful dress on; but she was dead. They all wept, because they really loved her. But there was nothing to do; the chief struck her enchanted wand, and commanded a beautiful rich casket all covered with diamonds and other precious stones to appear; then the others made a beautiful garland of flowers and gold, put it on the young girl, and then laid her in the casket, which was so rich and beautiful that it was marvelous to behold. Then the old fairy struck her wand as usual and commanded a handsome horse, the like of which not even the king possessed. Then they took the casket, put it on the horse’s back, and led him into the public square of the city, and the chief of the fairies said, “Go, and do not stop until you find someone who says to you, “Stop, for pity’s sake, for I have lost my horse for you.”
This is oddly specific. I always wonder how much lee-way there is in these things—does the horse get to stop if he finds someone who says “Stop, for god’s sake!” or “Stop, for the love of bunnies!”?
Now let us leave the afflicted fairies, and turn our attention to the horse, which ran away at full speed. Who happened to pass at that moment? The son of a king (the name of this king is not known);
Oh, I’ve been through the desert on a king with no name...
and saw this horse with that wonder on its back. Then the king began to spur his horse, and rode him so hard that he killed him, and had to leave him dead in the road; but the king kept running after the other horse.
I like to think the eagle came by and ate the dead horse. Possibly with basil.
The poor king could endure it no longer; he saw himself lost, and exclaimed, “Stop, for pity’s sake, for I have lost my horse for you!”
Then the horse stopped (for those were the words). When the king saw that beautiful girl dead in the casket, he thought no more about his own horse, but took the other to the city. The king’s mother knew that her son had gone hunting; when she saw him returning with this loaded horse, she did not know what to think. The son had no father, wherefore he was all powerful.
I thought he was the son of a king, but apparently he’s actually the king, or something like that, with a dowager queen in residence.
He reached the palace, had the horse unloaded, and the casket carried to his chamber; then he called his mother and said, “Mother, I went hunting, but I have found a wife.”
“But what is it? A doll? A dead woman?”
“Mother,” replied her son, “don’t trouble yourself about what it is, it is my wife.”
Necrophilia or real doll action? It’s hard to tell, because they start calling her “the doll” later on almost exclusively.
His mother began to laugh, and withdrew to her own room (what could she do, poor mother?).
Ha ha ha my son’s lost his shit oh god ha ha I need a drink ...
Now this poor king no longer went hunting, took no diversion, did not even go to the table, but ate in his own room. By a fatality it happened that war was declared against him, and he was obliged to depart. He called his mother, and said, “Mother, I wish two careful chambermaids, whose business it shall be to guard this casket; for if on my return I find that anything has happened to my casket, I shall have the chambermaids killed.”
“Chambermaids killed. Got it,” she said, heading for the liquor cabinet.
His mother, who loved him, said, “Go, my son, fear nothing, for I myself will watch over your