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Originally published in 1866 in the Christmas edition of Dickens's magazine, "All the Year Round.", "Mugby Junction" offers a diverse collection of stories, each with its own unique characters and themes, ranging from family and compassion to the supernatural and mysterious. It showcases both Charles Dickens's storytelling prowess and the contributions of other authors to this literary work centered around the railway station, Mugby Junction. Dickens contributes the first four stories including the spooky ‘The Signalman’, and is ably supported by Scottish journalist and dramatist Andrew Halliday’s ‘The Engine Driver’, novelist and journalist Charles Collins’ ‘The Compensation House’, evangelical author Hesba Stretton’s ‘The Travelling Post-Office’ and finally novelist, journalist, traveller and Egyptologist Amelia B. Edwards’ tale of unrequited love, ‘The Engineer’. Humour and pathos, life and death intersect where the great railways cross – get your ticket for Mugby Junction! (Summary by Bryn Roberts)

Battlefield 1 is a first-person shooter video game developed by DICE and published by Electronic Arts. It was released in October 2016 for Microsoft Windows, PlayStation 4, and Xbox One. The game is set in World War I and features a variety of multiplayer and single-player modes.

John Evelyn was a 17th century polymath, with interests in the fine arts, architecture, gardening, as well as anatomy and the natural sciences. He was a fervent supporter of the Stuart monarchy and lived abroad during much of the English Civil War. His Diaries, which rank alongside those of Samuel Pepys for perceptive commentary on the times in which he lived, span his adult years. (Summary by Anthony Ogus)

John Evelyn was a 17th century polymath, with interests in the fine arts, architecture, gardening, as well as anatomy and the natural sciences. He was a fervent supporter of the Stuart monarchy and lived abroad during much of the English Civil War. His Diaries, which rank alongside those of Samuel Pepys for perceptive commentary on the times in which he lived, span his adult years. (Summary by Anthony Ogus)

John Evelyn was a 17th century polymath, with interests in the fine arts, architecture, gardening, as well as anatomy and the natural sciences. He was a fervent supporter of the Stuart monarchy and lived abroad during much of the English Civil War. His Diaries, which rank alongside those of Samuel Pepys for perceptive commentary on the times in which he lived, span his adult years. (Summary by Anthony Ogus)

Battlefield 1 is a first-person shooter video game developed by DICE and published by Electronic Arts. It was released in October 2016 for Microsoft Windows, PlayStation 4, and Xbox One. The game is set in World War I and features a variety of multiplayer and single-player modes.

Battlefield 1 is a first-person shooter video game developed by DICE and published by Electronic Arts. It was released in October 2016 for Microsoft Windows, PlayStation 4, and Xbox One. The game is set in World War I and features a variety of multiplayer and single-player modes.

Battlefield 1 is a first-person shooter video game developed by DICE and published by Electronic Arts. It was released in October 2016 for Microsoft Windows, PlayStation 4, and Xbox One. The game is set in World War I and features a variety of multiplayer and single-player modes.

"A Case of Identity" is one of the 56 short Sherlock Holmes stories written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and is the third story in The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. It first appeared in The Strand Magazine in September 1891.

"The Red-Headed League" is one of the 56 Sherlock Holmes short stories written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. It first appeared in The Strand Magazine in August 1891, with illustrations by Sidney Paget. Conan Doyle ranked "The Red-Headed League" second in his list of his twelve favourite Holmes stories.

"A Scandal in Bohemia" is the first short story, and the third overall work, featuring Arthur Conan Doyle's fictional detective Sherlock Holmes. It is the first of the 56 Holmes short stories written by Doyle.

|| This audio is a LibriVox recording, read by StudioMike. || At three o’clock precisely I was at Baker Street, but Holmes had not yet returned. The landlady informed me that he had left the house shortly after eight o’clock in the morning. I sat down beside the fire, however, with the intention of awaiting him, however long he might be. I was already deeply interested in his inquiry, for, though it was surrounded by none of the grim and strange features which were associated with the two crimes which I have already recorded, still, the nature of the case and the exalted station of his client gave it a character of its own. Indeed, apart from the nature of the investigation which my friend had on hand, there was something in his masterly grasp of a situation, and his keen, incisive reasoning, which made it a pleasure to me to study his system of work, and to follow the quick, subtle methods by which he disentangled the most inextricable mysteries. So accustomed was I to his invariable success that the very possibility of his failing had ceased to enter into my head. It was close upon four before the door opened, and a drunken-looking groom, ill-kempt and side-whiskered, with an inflamed face and disreputable clothes, walked into the room. Accustomed as I was to my friend’s amazing powers in the use of disguises, I had to look three times before I was certain that it was indeed he. With a nod he vanished into the bedroom, whence he emerged in five minutes tweed-suited and respectable, as of old. Putting his hands into his pockets, he stretched out his legs in front of the fire and laughed heartily for some minutes. “Well, really!” he cried, and then he choked and laughed again until he was obliged to lie back, limp and helpless, in the chair. “What is it?” “It’s quite too funny. I am sure you could never guess how I employed my morning, or what I ended by doing.” “I can’t imagine. I suppose that you have been watching the habits, and perhaps the house, of Miss Irene Adler.” “Quite so; but the sequel was rather unusual. I will tell you, however. I left the house a little after eight o’clock this morning in the character of a groom out of work. There is a wonderful sympathy and freemasonry among horsey men. Be one of them, and you will know all that there is to know. I soon found Briony Lodge. It is a bijou villa, with a garden at the back, but built out in front right up to the road, two stories. Chubb lock to the door. Large sitting-room on the right side, well furnished, with long windows almost to the floor, and those preposterous English window fasteners which a child could open. Behind there was nothing remarkable, save that the passage window could be reached from the top of the coach-house. I walked round it and examined it closely from every point of view, but without noting anything else of interest. “I then lounged down the street and found, as I expected, that there was a mews in a lane which runs down by one wall of the garden. I lent the ostlers a hand in rubbing down their horses, and received in exchange twopence, a glass of half-and-half, two fills of shag tobacco, and as much information as I could desire about Miss Adler, to say nothing of half a dozen other people in the neighbourhood in whom I was not in the least interested, but whose biographies I was compelled to listen to.” “And what of Irene Adler?” I asked. “Oh, she has turned all the men’s heads down in that part. She is the daintiest thing under a bonnet on this planet. So say the Serpentine-mews, to a man. She lives quietly, sings at concerts, drives out at five every day, and returns at seven sharp for dinner. Seldom goes out at other times, except when she sings. Has only one male visitor, but a good deal of him. He is dark, handsome, and dashing, never calls less than once a day, and often twice. He is a Mr. Godfrey Norton, of the Inner Temple. See the advantages of a cabman as a confidant. They had driven him home a dozen times from Serpentine-mews, and knew all about him. When I had listened to all they had to tell, I began to walk up and down near Briony Lodge once more, and to think over my plan of campaign. “This Godfrey Norton was evidently an important factor in the matter. He was a lawyer. That sounded ominous. What was the relation between them, and what the object of his repeated visits? Was she his client, his friend, or his mistress? If the former, she had probably transferred the photograph to his keeping. If the latter, it was less likely. On the issue of this question depended whether I should continue my work at Briony Lodge, or turn my attention to the gentleman’s chambers in the Temple. It was a delicate point, and it widened the field of my inquiry. I fear that I bore you with these details, but I have to let you see my little difficulties, if you are to understand the situation.”

|| This audio is a LibriVox recording, read by StudioMike. || As he spoke the gleam of the sidelights of a carriage came round the curve of the avenue. It was a smart little landau which rattled up to the door of Briony Lodge. As it pulled up, one of the loafing men at the corner dashed forward to open the door in the hope of earning a copper, but was elbowed away by another loafer, who had rushed up with the same intention. A fierce quarrel broke out, which was increased by the two guardsmen, who took sides with one of the loungers, and by the scissors-grinder, who was equally hot upon the other side. A blow was struck, and in an instant the lady, who had stepped from her carriage, was the centre of a little knot of flushed and struggling men, who struck savagely at each other with their fists and sticks. Holmes dashed into the crowd to protect the lady; but, just as he reached her, he gave a cry and dropped to the ground, with the blood running freely down his face. At his fall the guardsmen took to their heels in one direction and the loungers in the other, while a number of better dressed people, who had watched the scuffle without taking part in it, crowded in to help the lady and to attend to the injured man. Irene Adler, as I will still call her, had hurried up the steps; but she stood at the top with her superb figure outlined against the lights of the hall, looking back into the street. “Is the poor gentleman much hurt?” she asked. “He is dead,” cried several voices. “No, no, there’s life in him!” shouted another. “But he’ll be gone before you can get him to hospital.” “He’s a brave fellow,” said a woman. “They would have had the lady’s purse and watch if it hadn’t been for him. They were a gang, and a rough one, too. Ah, he’s breathing now.” “He can’t lie in the street. May we bring him in, marm?” “Surely. Bring him into the sitting-room. There is a comfortable sofa. This way, please!” Slowly and solemnly he was borne into Briony Lodge and laid out in the principal room, while I still observed the proceedings from my post by the window. The lamps had been lit, but the blinds had not been drawn, so that I could see Holmes as he lay upon the couch. I do not know whether he was seized with compunction at that moment for the part he was playing, but I know that I never felt more heartily ashamed of myself in my life than when I saw the beautiful creature against whom I was conspiring, or the grace and kindliness with which she waited upon the injured man. And yet it would be the blackest treachery to Holmes to draw back now from the part which he had intrusted to me. I hardened my heart, and took the smoke-rocket from under my ulster. After all, I thought, we are not injuring her. We are but preventing her from injuring another. Holmes had sat up upon the couch, and I saw him motion like a man who is in need of air. A maid rushed across and threw open the window. At the same instant I saw him raise his hand and at the signal I tossed my rocket into the room with a cry of “Fire!” The word was no sooner out of my mouth than the whole crowd of spectators, well dressed and ill—gentlemen, ostlers, and servant maids—joined in a general shriek of “Fire!” Thick clouds of smoke curled through the room and out at the open window. I caught a glimpse of rushing figures, and a moment later the voice of Holmes from within assuring them that it was a false alarm. Slipping through the shouting crowd I made my way to the corner of the street, and in ten minutes was rejoiced to find my friend’s arm in mine, and to get away from the scene of uproar. He walked swiftly and in silence for some few minutes until we had turned down one of the quiet streets which lead towards the Edgeware Road. “You did it very nicely, Doctor,” he remarked. “Nothing could have been better. It is all right.” “You have the photograph?” “I know where it is.” “And how did you find out?” “She showed me, as I told you she would.” “I am still in the dark.” “I do not wish to make a mystery,” said he, laughing. “The matter was perfectly simple. You, of course, saw that everyone in the street was an accomplice. They were all engaged for the evening.” “I guessed as much.” “Then, when the row broke out, I had a little moist red paint in the palm of my hand. I rushed forward, fell down, clapped my hand to my face, and became a piteous spectacle. It is an old trick.” “That also I could fathom.” “Then they carried me in. She was bound to have me in. What else could she do? And into her sitting-room, which was the very room which I suspected. It lay between that and her bedroom, and I was determined to see which. They laid me on a couch, I motioned for air, they were compelled to open the window, and you had your chance.” “How did that help you?”

Battlefield 1 is a first-person shooter video game developed by DICE and published by Electronic Arts. It was released in October 2016 for Microsoft Windows, PlayStation 4, and Xbox One. The game is set in World War I and features a variety of multiplayer and single-player modes.

Battlefield 1 is a first-person shooter video game developed by DICE and published by Electronic Arts. It was released in October 2016 for Microsoft Windows, PlayStation 4, and Xbox One. The game is set in World War I and features a variety of multiplayer and single-player modes.

This audio is a LibriVox recording, read by StudioMike. A slow and heavy step, which had been heard upon the stairs and in the passage, paused immediately outside the door. Then there was a loud and authoritative tap. “Come in!” said Holmes. A man entered who could hardly have been less than six feet six inches in height, with the chest and limbs of a Hercules. His dress was rich with a richness which would, in England, be looked upon as akin to bad taste. Heavy bands of astrakhan were slashed across the sleeves and fronts of his double-breasted coat, while the deep blue cloak which was thrown over his shoulders was lined with flame-coloured silk and secured at the neck with a brooch which consisted of a single flaming beryl. Boots which extended halfway up his calves, and which were trimmed at the tops with rich brown fur, completed the impression of barbaric opulence which was suggested by his whole appearance. He carried a broad-brimmed hat in his hand, while he wore across the upper part of his face, extending down past the cheekbones, a black vizard mask, which he had apparently adjusted that very moment, for his hand was still raised to it as he entered. From the lower part of the face he appeared to be a man of strong character, with a thick, hanging lip, and a long, straight chin suggestive of resolution pushed to the length of obstinacy. “You had my note?” he asked with a deep harsh voice and a strongly marked German accent. “I told you that I would call.” He looked from one to the other of us, as if uncertain which to address. “Pray take a seat,” said Holmes. “This is my friend and colleague, Dr. Watson, who is occasionally good enough to help me in my cases. Whom have I the honour to address?” “You may address me as the Count Von Kramm, a Bohemian nobleman. I understand that this gentleman, your friend, is a man of honour and discretion, whom I may trust with a matter of the most extreme importance. If not, I should much prefer to communicate with you alone.” I rose to go, but Holmes caught me by the wrist and pushed me back into my chair. “It is both, or none,” said he. “You may say before this gentleman anything which you may say to me.” The Count shrugged his broad shoulders. “Then I must begin,” said he, “by binding you both to absolute secrecy for two years; at the end of that time the matter will be of no importance. At present it is not too much to say that it is of such weight it may have an influence upon European history.” “I promise,” said Holmes. “And I.” “You will excuse this mask,” continued our strange visitor. “The august person who employs me wishes his agent to be unknown to you, and I may confess at once that the title by which I have just called myself is not exactly my own.” “I was aware of it,” said Holmes dryly. “The circumstances are of great delicacy, and every precaution has to be taken to quench what might grow to be an immense scandal and seriously compromise one of the reigning families of Europe. To speak plainly, the matter implicates the great House of Ormstein, hereditary kings of Bohemia.” “I was also aware of that,” murmured Holmes, settling himself down in his armchair and closing his eyes. Our visitor glanced with some apparent surprise at the languid, lounging figure of the man who had been no doubt depicted to him as the most incisive reasoner and most energetic agent in Europe. Holmes slowly reopened his eyes and looked impatiently at his gigantic client. “If your Majesty would condescend to state your case,” he remarked, “I should be better able to advise you.” The man sprang from his chair and paced up and down the room in uncontrollable agitation. Then, with a gesture of desperation, he tore the mask from his face and hurled it upon the ground. “You are right,” he cried; “I am the King. Why should I attempt to conceal it?” “Why, indeed?” murmured Holmes. “Your Majesty had not spoken before I was aware that I was addressing Wilhelm Gottsreich Sigismond von Ormstein, Grand Duke of Cassel-Felstein, and hereditary King of Bohemia.” “But you can understand,” said our strange visitor, sitting down once more and passing his hand over his high white forehead, “you can understand that I am not accustomed to doing such business in my own person. Yet the matter was so delicate that I could not confide it to an agent without putting myself in his power. I have come incognito from Prague for the purpose of consulting you.” “Then, pray consult,” said Holmes, shutting his eyes once more. “The facts are briefly these: Some five years ago, during a lengthy visit to Warsaw, I made the acquaintance of the well-known adventuress, Irene Adler. The name is no doubt familiar to you.”

This audio is a LibriVox recording, read by StudioMike. To Sherlock Holmes she is always the woman. I have seldom heard him mention her under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses and predominates the whole of her sex. It was not that he felt any emotion akin to love for Irene Adler. All emotions, and that one particularly, were abhorrent to his cold, precise but admirably balanced mind. He was, I take it, the most perfect reasoning and observing machine that the world has seen, but as a lover he would have placed himself in a false position. He never spoke of the softer passions, save with a gibe and a sneer. They were admirable things for the observer—excellent for drawing the veil from men’s motives and actions. But for the trained reasoner to admit such intrusions into his own delicate and finely adjusted temperament was to introduce a distracting factor which might throw a doubt upon all his mental results. Grit in a sensitive instrument, or a crack in one of his own high-power lenses, would not be more disturbing than a strong emotion in a nature such as his. And yet there was but one woman to him, and that woman was the late Irene Adler, of dubious and questionable memory. I had seen little of Holmes lately. My marriage had drifted us away from each other. My own complete happiness, and the home-centred interests which rise up around the man who first finds himself master of his own establishment, were sufficient to absorb all my attention, while Holmes, who loathed every form of society with his whole Bohemian soul, remained in our lodgings in Baker Street, buried among his old books, and alternating from week to week between cocaine and ambition, the drowsiness of the drug, and the fierce energy of his own keen nature. He was still, as ever, deeply attracted by the study of crime, and occupied his immense faculties and extraordinary powers of observation in following out those clues, and clearing up those mysteries which had been abandoned as hopeless by the official police. From time to time I heard some vague account of his doings: of his summons to Odessa in the case of the Trepoff murder, of his clearing up of the singular tragedy of the Atkinson brothers at Trincomalee, and finally of the mission which he had accomplished so delicately and successfully for the reigning family of Holland. Beyond these signs of his activity, however, which I merely shared with all the readers of the daily press, I knew little of my former friend and companion. One night—it was on the twentieth of March, 1888—I was returning from a journey to a patient (for I had now returned to civil practice), when my way led me through Baker Street. As I passed the well-remembered door, which must always be associated in my mind with my wooing, and with the dark incidents of the Study in Scarlet, I was seized with a keen desire to see Holmes again, and to know how he was employing his extraordinary powers. His rooms were brilliantly lit, and, even as I looked up, I saw his tall, spare figure pass twice in a dark silhouette against the blind. He was pacing the room swiftly, eagerly, with his head sunk upon his chest and his hands clasped behind him. To me, who knew his every mood and habit, his attitude and manner told their own story. He was at work again. He had risen out of his drug-created dreams and was hot upon the scent of some new problem. I rang the bell and was shown up to the chamber which had formerly been in part my own. His manner was not effusive. It seldom was; but he was glad, I think, to see me. With hardly a word spoken, but with a kindly eye, he waved me to an armchair, threw across his case of cigars, and indicated a spirit case and a gasogene in the corner. Then he stood before the fire and looked me over in his singular introspective fashion. “Wedlock suits you,” he remarked. “I think, Watson, that you have put on seven and a half pounds since I saw you.” “Seven!” I answered. “Indeed, I should have thought a little more. Just a trifle more, I fancy, Watson. And in practice again, I observe. You did not tell me that you intended to go into harness.” “Then, how do you know?” “I see it, I deduce it. How do I know that you have been getting yourself very wet lately, and that you have a most clumsy and careless servant girl?” “My dear Holmes,” said I, “this is too much. You would certainly have been burned, had you lived a few centuries ago. It is true that I had a country walk on Thursday and came home in a dreadful mess, but as I have changed my clothes I can’t imagine how you deduce it. As to Mary Jane, she is incorrigible, and my wife has given her notice, but there, again, I fail to see how you work it out.” He chuckled to himself and rubbed his long, nervous hands together.

There was once an old Queen whose husband had been dead for many years, and she had a very beautiful daughter. When she grew up she was betrothed to a Prince in a distant country. When the time came for the maiden to be sent into this distant country to be married, the old Queen packed up quantities of clothes and jewels, gold and silver, cups and ornaments, and, in fact, everything suitable to a royal outfit, for she loved her daughter very dearly. She also sent a Waiting- woman to travel with her, and to put her hand into that of the bridegroom. They each had a horse. The Princess's horse was called Falada, and it could speak. When the hour of departure came, the old Queen went to her bedroom, and with a sharp little knife cut her finger and made it bleed. Then she held a piece of white cambric under it, and let three drops of blood fall on to it. This cambric she gave to her daughter, and said, ' Dear child, take good care of this ; it will stand you in good stead on the journey.' They then bade each other a sorrowful farewell. The Princess hid the piece of cambric in her bosom, mounted her horse, and set out to her bridegroom's country. When they had ridden for a time the Princess became very thirsty, and said to the Waiting-woman, ' Get down and fetch me some water in my cup from the stream. I must have something to drink.' ' If you are thirsty,' said the Waiting- woman, ' dismount yourself, lie down by the water and drink. I don't choose to be your servant.' So, in her great thirst, the Princess dismounted and stooped down to the stream and drank, as she might not have her golden cup. The poor Princess said, ' Alas ! ' and the drops of blood answered, ' If your mother knew this, it would break her heart.' The royal bride was humble, so she said nothing, but mounted her horse again. Then they rode several miles further ; but the day was warm, the sun was scorching, and the Princess was soon thirsty again. When they reached a river she called out again to her Waiting- woman, ' Get down, and give me some water in my golden cup ! ' She had forgotten all about the rude words which had been said to her. But the Waiting- woman answered more haughtily than ever, ' If you want to drink, get the water for yourself. I won't be your servant.' Being very thirsty, the Princess dismounted, and knelt by the flowing water. She cried, and said, ' Ah me ! ' and the drops of blood answered, ' If your mother knew this it would break her heart.' While she stooped over the water to drink, the piece of cambric with the drops of blood on it fell out of her bosom, and floated away on the stream ; but she never noticed this in her great fear. The Waiting-woman, however, had seen it, and rejoiced at getting more power over the bride, who, by losing the drops of blood, had become weak and powerless. Now, when she was about to mount her horse Falada again, the Waiting-woman said, ' By rights, Falada belongs to me ; this jade will do for you ! ' The poor little Princess was obliged to give way. Then the Waiting- woman, in a harsh voice, ordered her to take off her royal robes, and to put on her own mean garments. Finally, she forced her to swear before heaven that she would not tell a creature at the Court what had taken place. Had she not taken the oath she would have been killed on the spot. But Falada saw all this and marked it. The Waiting - woman then mounted Falada and put the real bride on her poor jade, and they continued their journey. There was great rejoicing when they arrived at the castle. The Prince hurried towards them, and lifted the Waitingwoman from her horse, thinking she was his bride. She was led upstairs, but the real Princess had to stay below. The old King looked out of the window and saw the delicate, pretty little creature standing in the courtyard ; so he went to the bridal apartments and asked the bride about her companion, who was left standing in the courtyard, and wished to know who she was. ' I picked her up on the way, and brought her with me for company. Give the girl something to do to keep her from idling.' But the old King had no work for her, and could not think of anything. At last he said, ' I have a little lad who looks after the geese ; she may help him.' The boy was called little Conrad, and the real bride was sent with him to look after the geese. Soon after, the false bride said to the Prince, ' Dear husband, I pray you do me a favour.'

There was once a Miller who was very poor, but he had a beautiful daughter. Now, it fell out that he had occasion to speak with the King, and, in order to give himself an air of importance, he said : ' I have a daughter who can spin gold out of straw.' The King said to the Miller : ' That is an art in which I am much interested. If your daughter is as skilful as you say she is, bring her to my castle to-morrow, and I will put her to the test.' Accordingly, when the girl was brought to the castle, the King conducted her to a chamber which was quite full of straw, gave her a spinning-wheel and winder, and said, ' Now, set to work, and if between to-night and to-morrow at dawn you have not spun this straw into gold you must die.' Thereupon he carefully locked the door of the chamber, and she remained alone. There sat the unfortunate Miller's daughter, and for the life of her did not know what to do. She had not the least idea how to spin straw into gold, and she became more and more distressed, until at last she began to weep. Then all at once the door sprang open, and in stepped a little Mannikin, who said : ' Good evening. Mistress Miller, what are you weeping so for ? ' ' Alas ! ' answered the Maiden, ' I 've got to spin gold out of straw, and don't know how to do it.' Then the Mannikin said, ' What will you give me if I spin it for you ? ' ' My necklace,' said the Maid. The little man took the necklace, sat down before the spinning-wheel, and whir — whir — whir, in a trice the reel was full. Then he fixed another reel, and whir — whir — whir, thrice round, and that too was full ; and so it went on until morning, when all the straw was spun and all the reels were full of gold. Immediately at sunrise the King came, and when he saw the gold he was astonished and much pleased, but his mind became only the more avaricious. So he had the Miller's daughter taken to another chamber, larger than the former one, and full of straw, and he ordered her to spin it also in one night, as she valued her life. The Maiden was at her wit's end, and began to weep. Then again the door sprang open, and the little Mannikin appeared, and said, ' What will you give me if I spin the straw into gold for you ? ' ' The ring off my finger,' answered the Maiden. The little man took the ring, began to whir again at the wheel, and had by morning spun all the straw into gold. The King was delighted at sight of the masses of gold, but was not even yet satisfied. So he had the Miller's daughter taken to a still larger chamber, full of straw, and said, ' This must you to-night spin into gold, but if you succeed you shall become my Queen.' ' Even if she is only a Miller's daughter,' thought he, ' I shan't find a richer woman in the whole world.' When the girl was alone the little Man came again, and said for the third time, ' What will you give me if I spin the straw for you this time ? ' ' I have nothing more that I can give,' answered the girl, ' Well, promise me your first child if you become Queen.' ' Who knows what may happen,' thought the Miller's daughter ; but she did not see any other way of getting out of the difficulty, so she promised the little Man what he demanded, and in return he spun the straw into gold once more. When the King came in the morning, and found everything as he had wished, he celebrated his marriage with her, and the Miller's daughter became Queen. About a year afterwards a beautiful child was born, but the Queen had forgotten all about the little Man. However, he suddenly entered her chamber, and said, ' Now, give me what you promised.' The Queen was terrified, and offered the little Man all the wealth of the kingdom if he would let her keep the child. But the Mannikin said, ' No ; I would rather have some living thing than all the treasures of the world.' Then the Queen began to moan and weep to such an extent that the little Man felt sorry for her. ' I will give you three days,' said he, ' and if within that time you discover my name you shall keep the child.' Then during the night the Queen called to mind all the names that she had ever heard, and sent a messenger all over the country to inquire far and wide what other names there were. When the little Man came on the next day, she began with Caspar, Melchoir, Balzer, and mentioned all the names which she knew, one after the other ; but at every one the little Man said : ' No ; that's not my name.' The second day she had inquiries made all round the neighbourhood for the names of people living there, and suggested to the little Man all the most unusual and strange names. ' Perhaps your name is Cowribs, Spindleshanks, or Spiderlegs ? '

There was once a sweet little maiden, who was loved by all who knew her ; but she was especially dear to her Grandmother, who did not know how to make enough of the child. Once she gave her a little red velvet cloak. It was so becoming, and she liked it so much, that she would never wear anything else ; and so she got the name of Red Riding Hood. One day her Mother said to her : ' Come here, Red Riding Hood, take this cake and a bottle of wine to Grandmother, she is weak and ill, and they will do her good. Go quickly, before it gets hot, and don't loiter by the way, or run, or you will fall down and break the bottle, and there would be no wine for Grandmother. When you get there, don't forget to say " Good morning " prettily, without staring about you.' ' I will do just as you tell me,' Red Riding Hood promised her Mother. Her Grandmother lived away in the woods, a good half-hour from the village. When she got to the wood, she met a Wolf ; but Red Riding Hood did not know what a wicked animal he was, so she was not a bit afraid of him. ' Good-morning, Red Riding Hood,' he said. ' Good-morning, Wolf,' she answered. ' Whither away so early, Red Riding Hood ? ' ' To Grandmother's.' ' What have you got in your basket ? ' ' Cake and wine ; we baked yesterday, so I'm taking a cake to Grannie ; she wants something to make her well.' ' Where does your Grandmother live. Red Riding Hood ? ' ' A good quarter of an hour further into the wood. Her house stands under three big oak trees, near a hedge of nut trees which you must know,' said Red Riding Hood. The Wolf thought : ' This tender little creature will be a plump morsel ; she will be nicer than the old woman. I must be cunning, and snap them both up.' He walked along with Red Riding Hood for a while, then he said : ' Look at the pretty flowers. Red Riding Hood. Why don't you look about you ? I don't believe you even hear the birds sing, you are just as solemn as if you were going to school : everything else is so gay out here in the woods.' Red Riding Hood raised her eyes, and when she saw the sunlight dancing through the trees, and all the bright flowers, she thought : ' I'm sure Grannie would be pleased if I took her a bunch of fresh flowers. It is still quite early, I shall have plenty of time to pick them.' So she left the path, and wandered off among the trees to pick the flowers. Each time she picked one, she always saw another prettier one further on. So she went deeper and deeper into the forest. In the meantime the Wolf went straight off to the Grandmother's cottage, and knocked at the door. ' Who is there ? ' ' Red Riding Hood, bringing you a cake and some wine. Open the door ! ' ' Press the latch ! ' cried the old woman. ' I am too weak to get up.' The Wolf pressed the latch, and the door sprang open. He went straight in and up to the bed without saying a word, and ate up the poor old woman. Then he put on her nightdress and nightcap, got into bed and drew the curtains. Red Riding Hood ran about picking flowers till she could carry no more, and then she remembered her Grandmother again. She was astonished when she got to the house to find the door open, and when she entered the room everything seemed so strange. She felt quite frightened, but she did not know why. ' Generally I like coming to see Grandmother so much,' she thought. She cried : ' Good-morning, Grandmother,' but she received no answer. Then she went up to the bed and drew the curtain back. There lay her Grandmother, but she had drawn her cap down over her face, and she looked very odd. ' O Grandmother, what big ears you have got,' she said. ' The better to hear with, my dear.' ' Grandmother, what big eyes you have got.' ' The better to see with, my dear.' ' What big hands you have got. Grandmother.' ' The better to catch hold of you with, my dear.' ' But, Grandmother, what big teeth you have got.' ' The better to eat you up with, my dear.' Hardly had the Wolf said this, than he made a spring out of bed, and devoured poor little Red Riding Hood. When the Wolf had satisfied himself, he went back to bed and he was soon snoring loudly. A Huntsman went past the house, and thought, ' How loudly the old lady is snoring ; I must see if there is anything the matter with her.' So he went into the house, and up to the bed, where he found the Wolf fast asleep. ' Do I find you here, you old sinner ? ' he said. ' Long enough have I sought you.' He raised his gun to shoot, when it just occurred to him that perhaps the Wolf had eaten up the old lady, and that she might still be saved. So he took a knife and began cutting open the sleeping Wolf. At the first cut he saw the little red cloak, and after a few more slashes, the little girl sprang out, and cried : 'Oh, how frightened I was, it was so dark inside the Wolf ! ' Next the old Grandmother came out, alive, but hardly able to breathe.

There was once a man and his wife who had long wished in vain for a child, when at last they had reason to hope that Heaven would grant their wish. There was a little window at the back of their house, which overlooked a beautiful garden, full of lovely flowers and shrubs. It was, however, surrounded by a high wall, and nobody dared to enter it, because it belonged to a powerful Witch, who was feared by everybody. One day the woman, standing at this window and looking into the garden, saw a bed planted with beautiful rampion. It looked so fresh and green that it made her long to eat some of it. This longing increased every day, and as she knew it could never be satisfied, she began to look pale and miserable, and to pine away. Then her husband was alarmed, and said : ' What ails you, my dear wife ? ' ' Alas ! ' she answered, ' if I cannot get any of the rampion from the garden behind our house to eat, I shall die.' Her husband, who loved her, thought, ' Before you let your wife die, you must fetch her some of that rampion, cost what it may.' So in the twilight he climbed over the wall into the Witch's garden, hastily picked a handful of rampion, and took it back to his wife. She immediately dressed it, and ate it up very eagerly. It was so very, very nice, that the next day her longing for it increased threefold. She could have no peace unless her husband fetched her some more. So in the twilight he set out again ; but when he got over the wall he was terrified to see the Witch before him. ' How dare you come into my garden like a thief, and steal my rampion ? ' she said, with angry looks. ' It shall be the worse for you ! ' ' Alas ! ' he answered, ' be merciful to me ; I am only here from necessity. My wife sees your rampion from the window, and she has such a longing for it, that she would die if she could not get some of it.' The anger of the Witch abated, and she said to him, ' If it is as you say, I will allow you to take away with you as much rampion as you like, but on one condition. You must give me the child which your wife is about to bring into the world. I will care for it like a mother, and all will be well with it.' In his fear the man consented to everything, and when the baby was born, the Witch appeared, gave it the name of Rapunzel (rampion), and took it away with her. Rapunzel was the most beautiful child under the sun. When she was twelve years old, the Witch shut her up in a tower which stood in a wood. It had neither staircase nor doors, and only a little window quite high up in the wall. When the Witch wanted to enter the tower, she stood at the foot of it, and cried — ' Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.' Rapunzel had splendid long hair, as fine as spun gold. As soon as she heard the voice of the Witch, she unfastened her plaits and twisted them round a hook by the window. They fell twenty ells downwards, and the Witch climbed up by them. It happened a couple of years later that the King's son rode through the forest, and came close to the tower. From thence he heard a song so lovely, that he stopped to listen. It was Rapunzel, who in her loneliness made her sweet voice resound to pass away the time. The King's son wanted to join her, and he sought for the door of the tower, but there was none to find. He rode home, but the song had touched his heart so deeply that he went into the forest every day to listen to it. Once, when he was hidden behind a tree, he saw a Witch come to the tower and call out — ' Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.' Then Rapunzel lowered her plaits of haii' and the Witch climbed up to her. ' If that is the ladder by which one ascends,' he thought, ' I will try my luck myself.' And the next day, when it began to grow dark, he went to the tower and cried — ' Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.' The hair fell down at once, and the King's son climbed up by it. At first Rapunzel was terrified, for she had never set eyes on a man before, but the King's son talked to her kindly, and told her that his heart had been so deeply touched by her song that he had no peace, and he was obliged to see her. Then Rapunzel lost her fear, and when he asked if she would have him for her husband, and she saw that he was young and handsome, she thought, ' He will love me better than old Mother Gothel.' So she said, ' Yes,' and laid her hand in his. She said, ' I will gladly go with you, but I do not know how I am to get down from this tower. When you come, will you bring a skein of silk with you every time. I will twist it into a ladder, and when it is long enough I will descend by it, and you can take me away with you on your horse.' She arranged with him that he should come and see her every evening, for the old Witch came in the daytime.

There was once a widow who had two daughters ; one of them was beautiful and industrious, the other was ugly and lazy. She liked the ugly, lazy one best, because she was her own daughter. The other one had all the rough work, and was made the Cinderella at home. The poor girl had to sit in the street by a well, spinning till her fingers bled. Now one day her bobbin got some blood upon it, and she stooped down to the well to rinse it, but it fell out of her hand into the water. She cried, and ran to tell her stepmother of her misfortune. Her stepmother scolded her violently and without mercy, and at last said, ' If you have let the bobbin fall into the water, you must go in after it and fetch it out.' The maiden went back to the well and did not know what to do, and in her terror she sprang into the water to try and find the bobbin. She lost consciousness, and when she came to herself she was in a beautiful meadow dotted with flowers, and the sun was shining brightly. She walked on till she came to a baker's oven full of bread ; the Loaves called out to her, ' Oh, draw us out, draw us out, or we shall burn ! We are over-baked already ! ' So she went up and drew them out one by one with a baker's shovel. Then she went a little further, and came to an Apple-tree covered with apples, which called out to her. ' Oh, shake us down, shake us down, we are over-ripe ! ' So she shook the tree, and the apples fell like rain. She shook till there were no more left, and when she had gathered them all into a heap, went on her way. At last she came to a little house, out of which an old woman was looking. She had very large teeth, and the maiden was so frightened that she wanted to run away. But the old woman called her, and said, ' What are you afraid of, dear child ? Stay with me, and if you can do all kinds of housework well, I shall be very pleased. But you must be very particular how you make my bed ; it must be thoroughly shaken, so that the feathers fly, then it snows in the world. I am Mother Hulda.' ' As the old woman spoke so kindly to her, she took heart and agreed to stay, and she began her duties at once. She did everything to the old woman's satisfaction, and shook up the bed with such a will, that the feathers flew about like snow. So she led a very happy life ; she had no hard words, but good food, both roast and boiled, every day. Now after she had been some time with Mother Hulda, she grew sad. At first she did not know what was the matter, but at last she discovered that she was homesick. Although everything here was a thousand times nicer than at home, still she had a yearning to go back. At last she said to the old woman, ' Although I had nothing but misery at home, and happy as I have been here, still I must go back to my own people.' Mother Hulda said, ' I am pleased that you ask to go home, and as you have been so faithful to me, I will take you back myself.' She took her by the hand and led her to a great gate. The gate was opened, and as the maiden was passing through, a heavy shower of gold fell upon her, and remained sticking, so that she was covered from head to foot with it. ' This is your reward, because you have been so industrious,' said Mother Hulda. She also gave her back her bobbin which had fallen into the well. Then the gate was shut, and the maiden found herself in the upper world not far from her mother's house. When she reached the courtyard the Cock was sitting on the well, and he cried — ' Cock-a-doodle-doo, Our golden maid, I see, Has now come home to me.' Then she went into her mother, and, as she was bedecked with gold, she was well received both by her mother and sister. The maiden told them all that had happened to her, and when her mother heard how she had got all her wealth, she wanted her ugly, lazy daughter to have the same. So she made her sit by the well and spin ; and so that there should be blood upon her bobbin, she scratched her finger, and thrust her hand into a blackthorn bush. Then she threw the bobbin into the water and jumped in after it. She found herself in the same beautiful meadow, and walked along the same path. When she reached the baker's oven, the Loaves called out again, ' Draw us out, draw us out, or we shall be burnt ! Then the lazy girl answered, ' I should soil my fingers,' and went on. Soon she came to the Apple-tree, and the apples cried, ' Shake us down, shake us down ! We are all ripe ! ' ' A fine business indeed,' she answered. ' One of you might fall upon my head.' And she passed on. When she came to Mother Hulda's house, she was not afraid of her big teeth, as she had heard all about them, and she immediately hired herself to the old woman. The first day she made a great effort ; she was industrious, and obeyed the orders Mother Hulda gave her, for she thought of all the gold. But on the second day even, she began to be lazy, and on the third she was still more so.

A Poor Peasant sat one evening by his hearth and poked the fire, while his Wife sat opposite spinning. He said : ' What a sad thing it is that we have no children ; our home is so quiet, while other folk's houses are noisy and cheerful.' ' Yes,' answered his Wife, and she sighed ; ' even if it were an only one, and if it were no bigger than my thumb, I should be quite content ; we would love it with all our hearts.' Now, some time after this, she had a little boy who was strong and healthy, but was no bigger than a thumb. Then they said : ' Well, our wish is fulfilled, and, small as he is, we will love him dearly ' ; and because of his tiny stature they called him Tom Thumb. They let him want for nothing, yet still the child grew no bigger, but remained the same size as when he was born. Still, he looked out on the world with intelligent eyes, and soon showed himself a clever and agile creature, who was lucky in all he attempted. One day, when the Peasant was preparing to go into the forest to cut wood, he said to himself : ' I wish I had some one to bring the cart after me.' ' O Father ! ' said Tom Thumb, ' I will soon bring it. You leave it to me ; it shall be there at the appointed time.' Then the Peasant laughed, and said : ' How can that be ? You are much too small even to hold the reins.' ' That doesn't matter, if only Mother will harness the horse,' answered Tom. ' I will sit in his ear and tell him where to go.' ' Very well,' said the Father ; ' we will try it for once.' When the time came, the Mother harnessed the horse, set Tom in his ear, and then the little creature called out ' Gee-up ' and ' Whoa ' in turn, and directed it where to go. It went quite well, just as though it were being driven by its master ; and they went the right way to the wood. Now it happened that while the cart was turning a corner, and Tom was calling to the horse, two strange men appeared on the scene. ' My goodness,' said one, ' what is this ? There goes a cart, and a driver is calling to the horse, but there is nothing to be seen.' ' There is something queer about this,' said the other ; ' we will follow the cart and see where it stops.' The cart went on deep into the forest, and arrived quite safely at the place where the wood was cut. When Tom spied his Father, he said : ' You see, Father, here I am with the cart ; now lift me down.' The Father held the horse with his left hand, and took his little son out of its ear with the right. Then Tom sat down quite happily on a straw. When the two strangers noticed him, they did not know what to say for astonishment. Then one drew the other aside, and said : ' Listen, that little creature might make our fortune if we were to show him in the town for money. We will buy him.' So they went up to the Peasant, and said : ' Sell us the little man ; he shall be well looked after with us.' ' No,' said the Peasant ; ' he is the delight of my eyes, and I will not sell him for all the gold in the world.' But Tom Thumb, when he heard the bargain, crept up by the folds of his Father's coat, placed himself on his shoulder, and whispered in his ear : ' Father, let me go ; I will soon come back again.' Then his Father gave him to the two men for a fine piece of gold. ' Where will you sit ? ' they asked him. ' Oh, put me on the brim of your hat, then I can walk up and down and observe the neighbourhood without falling down.' They did as he wished, and when Tom had said good-bye to his Father, they went away with him. They walked on till it was twilight, when the little man said : ' You must lift me down.' ' Stay where you are,' answered the Man on whose head he sat. ' No,' said Tom ; ' I will come down. Lift me down immediately.' The Man took off his hat and set the little creature in a field by the wayside. He jumped and crept about for a time, here and there among the sods, then slipped suddenly into a mouse-hole which he had discovered. ' Good evening, gentlemen, just you go home without me,' he called out to them in mockery. They ran about and poked with sticks into the mouse-hole, but all in vain. Tom crept further and further back, and, as it soon got quite dark, they were forced to go home, full of anger, and with empty purses. When Tom noticed that they were gone, he crept out of his underground hiding-place again, ' It is dangerous walking in this field in the dark,' he said ; ' one might easily break one's leg or one's neck.' Luckily, he came to an empty snail shell. ' Thank goodness,' he said ; ' I can pass the night in safety here,' and he sat down. Not long after, just when he was about to go to sleep, he heard two men pass by. One said : ' How shall we set about stealing the rich parson's gold and silver ? '

Once upon a time, in the summer, a Bear and a Wolf were taking a walk in a wood when the Bear heard a bird singing most beautifully, and he said, ' Brother Wolf, what kind of bird is that singing so beautifully ? ' ' That is the King of the birds, and we must bow down to it.' But really it was a Wren. ' If that is so,' said the Bear, ' I should like to see his royal palace. Come, you must take me to it.' ' That 's not so easy,' said the Wolf. ' You must wait till the Queen comes.' Soon after, the Queen made her appearance, bringing food in her beak, and the King came with her to feed their little ones. The Bear would have liked to go in at once, but the Wolf held him by the sleeve, and said, ' No ; now you must wait till the King and Queen fly away again.' So they marked the opening of the nest, and trudged on. But the Bear had no rest till he could see the royal palace, and before long he went back. The King and the Queen had gone out again. He peeped in, and saw five or six young ones lying in the nest. ' Is that the royal palace ? ' cried the Bear. ' What a miserable place ! And do you mean to say that you are royal children ? You must be changelings ! ' When the young Wrens heard this, they were furious, and shrieked, ' No, indeed we're not. Our parents are honest people ; we must have this out with you.' The Bear and the Wolf were very much frightened. They turned round and ran home to their dens. But the young Wrens continued to shriek and scream aloud ; and when their parents came back with more food, they said, ' We won't touch so much as the leg of a fly, even if we starve, till you tell us whether we are really your lawful children or not. The Bear has been here calling us names.' Then said the old King, ' Only be quiet, and this shall be seen to.' Thereupon he and his wife the Queen flew off to the Bear in his den, and called in to him, ' Old Bruin, why have you been calling our children names ? It will turn out badly for you, and it will lead to a bloody war between us.' So war was declared, and all the four-footed animals were called together — the ox, the ass, the cow, the stag, the roedeer, and every other creature on the earth. But the Wren called together every creature which flew in the air, not only birds both large and small, but also the gnats, the hornets, the bees, and the flies. When the time came for the war to begin, the Wren sent out scouts to discover where the commanding generals of the enemy were to be found. The gnats were the most cunning of all. They swarmed in the wood where the enemy were assembled, and at last they hid themselves under a leaf of the tree where the orders were being given. The Bear called the Fox up to him and said, ' You are the slyest of all the animals, Reynard. You shall be our general, and lead us.' ' Very good,' said the Fox ; ' but what shall we have for a signal ? ' But nobody could think of anything. Then said the Fox, ' I have a fine, long, bushy tail, which almost looks like a red feather brush. When I hold my tail erect, things are going well, and you must march forward at once ; but if it droops, you must all run away as hard as ever you can.' When the gnats heard this they flew straight home and told the Wrens every detail. When the day broke, all the four-footed animals came rushing to the spot where the battle was to take place. They came with such a tramping that the earth shook. The Wren and his army also came swarming through the air ; they fluttered and buzzed enough to terrify one. And then they made for one another. The Wren sent the Hornet down with orders to seat herself under the tail of the Fox and to sting him with all her might. When the Fox felt the first sting he quivered, and raised one leg in the air ; but he bore it bravely, and kept his tail erect. At the second sting he was forced to let it droop for a moment, but the third time he could bear it no longer ; he screamed, and down went his tail between his legs. When the animals saw this they thought all was lost, and off they ran helter-skelter, as fast as they could go, each to his own den. So the birds won the battle. When it was over the King and the Queen flew home to their children, and cried, ' Children, be happy ! Eat and drink to your hearts' content ; we have won the battle.' But the young Wrens said, ' We won't eat till the Bear comes here to make an apology, and says that we are really and truly your lawful children.' The Wren flew to the Bear's den, and cried, ' Old Bruin, you will have to come and apologise to my children for calling them names, or else you will have all your ribs broken.'

The Soldiers, however, bore him a grudge, and wished him a thousand miles away. ' What will be the end of it ? ' they said to each other. ' When we quarrel with him, and he strikes out, seven of us will fall at once. One of us can't cope with him.' So they took a resolve, and went all together to the King, and asked for their discharge. ' We are not made,' said they, ' to hold our own with a man who strikes seven at one blow.' It grieved the King to lose all his faithful servants for the sake of one man ; he wished he had never set eyes on the Tailor, and was quite ready to let him go. He did not dare, however, to give him his dismissal, for he was afraid that he would kill him and all his people, and place himself on the throne. He pondered over it for a long time, and at last he thought of a plan. He sent for the Tailor, and said that as he was so great a warrior, he would make him an offer. In a forest in his kingdom lived two giants, who, by robbery, murder, burning, and laying waste, did much harm. No one dared approach them without being in danger of his life. If he could subdue and kill these two Giants, he would give him his only daughter to be his wife, and half his kingdom as a dowry ; also he would give him a hundred Horsemen to accompany and help him. ' That would be something for a man like me,' thought the Tailor. ' A beautiful Princess and half a kingdom are not offered to one every day.' ' Oh yes,' was his answer, ' I will soon subdue the Giants, and that without the hundred Horsemen. He who slays seven at a blow need not fear two.' The Tailor set out at once, accompanied by the hundred Horsemen ; but when he came to the edge of the forest, he said to his followers, ' Wait here, I will soon make an end of the Giants by myself.' Then he disappeared into the wood ; he looked about to the right and to the left. Before long he espied both the Giants lying under a tree fast asleep, and snoring. Their snores were so tremendous that they made the branches of the tree dance up and down. The Tailor, who was no fool, filled his pockets with stones, and climbed up the tree. When he got half-way up, he slipped on to a branch just above the sleepers, and then hurled the stones, one after another, on to one of them. It was some time before the Giant noticed anything ; then he woke up, pushed his companion, and said, ' What are you hitting me for ? ' ' You're dreaming,' said the other. ' I didn't hit you.' They went to sleep again, and the Tailor threw a stone at the other one. ' What's that ? ' he cried. ' What are you throwing at me ? ' ' I'm not throwing anything,' answered the first one, with a growl. They quarrelled over it for a time, but as they were sleepy, they made it up, and their eyes closed again. The Tailor began his game again, picked out his biggest stone, and threw it at the first Giant as hard as he could. ' This is too bad,' said the Giant, flying up like a madman. He pushed his companion against the tree with such violence that it shook. The other paid him back in the same coin, and they worked themselves up into such a rage that they tore up trees by the roots, and hacked at each other till they both fell dead upon the ground. Then the Tailor jumped down from his perch. ' It was very lucky,' he said, ' that they did not tear up the tree I was sitting on, or I should have had to spring on to another like a squirrel, but we are nimble fellows.' He drew his sword, and gave each of the Giants two or three cuts in the chest. Then he went out to the Horsemen, and said, ' The work is done. I have given both of them the finishing stroke, but it was a difficult job. In their distress they tore trees up by the root to defend themselves ; but all that's no good when a man like me comes, who slays seven at a blow.' ' Are you not wounded ? ' then asked the Horsemen. ' There was no danger,' answered the Tailor. ' Not a hair of my head was touched.' The Horsemen would not believe him, and rode into the forest to see. There, right enough, lay the Giants in pools of blood, and, round about them, the uprooted trees. The Tailor now demanded his promised reward from the King ; but he, in the meantime, had repented of this promise, and was again trying to think of a plan to shake him off. ' Before I give you my daughter and the half of my kingdom, you must perform one more doughty deed. There is a Unicorn which runs about in the forests doing vast damage ; you must capture it.'