Children's stories, French -- Translations into English; Fairy tales; Fairy tales -- France
Well satisfied with his deed, he returned and lay down beside his wife.
As soon as Little Thumbling heard the ogre snoring, he awoke his
brothers, and bade them dress themselves quickly and follow him. They
crept down into the garden and jumped over the wall. They ran nearly all
night long, trembling the whole time, and not knowing whither they were
going. The ogre, awaking in the morning, said to his wife, "Go upstairs
and dress those young scamps you took in last night." The ogress was
astonished at her husband's kindness, never guessing what he meant, and
only fancying that he wished her to go and put on their clothes. She
went upstairs, where she was horrified to find that her own children had
been killed. The first thing she did was to faint, for it is the first
thing that almost all women do in similar circumstances. The ogre,
fearing that his wife would be too long over the job he had given her to
do, went upstairs to help her. His surprise was not less than had been
his wife's, when his eyes fell on the frightful spectacle.
"Ah! what have I done?" he exclaimed. "The young wretches shall pay for
it, and that at once." He threw a jugful of water in his wife's face,
and having brought her to, said, "Quick! fetch me my seven-league
boots, that I may go after them and catch them." He set out, and after
running in every direction, came at last upon the track of the poor
children, who were not more than a hundred yards from their father's
house. They saw the ogre striding from hill to hill, and stepping over
rivers as easily as if they were the smallest brooks. Little Thumbling,
who caught sight of a hollow rock close by where they were, hid his
brothers in it, and crept in after them, keeping his eye on the ogre all
the while. The ogre, feeling very tired with his long journey to no
purpose--for seven-league boots are very fatiguing to the
wearer--thought he should like to rest, and, by chance, sat down on the
very rock in which the little boys had concealed themselves. As he was
quite worn out, he had not rested long before he fell asleep, and began
to snore so dreadfully, that the poor children were not less frightened
than they were when he took up the great knife to cut their throats.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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