English fiction -- 19th century; Short stories, English
Then there was one monstrous head of some brute larger still, which
could not have been quite killed even then, for its tawny eyes were
still glaring with fury--the prince could easily have stood upright
between its grinning jaws if he had wanted to do so; but he had no
intention of doing any such thing, for though he was quite as brave as
most fairy princes he was not foolhardy.
And there were big enchanted castles with no doors nor windows in them,
and inhabited by restless monsters--dragons most likely--who had thrust
their scaly black claws through the roofs.
Perhaps he was a little frightened by some of the ugliest shapes at
first, but he soon grew used to them, and had no room for any other
feelings than pride and joy. For this was Fairyland at last, stranger
and more beautiful than anything he could have dreamed of--he had come
into his kingdom!
He was going to live in that lacework palace; those dragons would come
fawning out of their lairs presently, and do homage to him; these
formidable dead creatures had been slain to do him honour; and he was
the rightful owner of all these treasures of gold, and silk, and gems.
He must not forget, he thought, that he owed it all to the good-natured
giants who had brought him here: no, when they came in--as of course
they would--to pay their respects, he would thank them graciously and
reward them liberally out of his new wealth.
There was a silver giraffe, stiff and old-fashioned, under a palm-tree
hard by, which must have guessed from the prince's proud gay smile that
he was deceiving himself and had no idea of his real position.
But the giraffe did not make any attempt to warn him, either because it
had seen so many things all round it consumed in its day that the
selfish fear that it too would be cut up and handed round some evening
kept it preoccupied and silent, or else because, being only
electro-plated and hollow inside, it had no feelings of any kind.
By-and-by the doors opened, and delicious bursts of music floated into
the room, mingled with scraps of conversation and ripples of fresh
laughter; servants came noiselessly in and increased the glare of a kind
of sun that hung above the plain, and a host of smaller lights suddenly
started up and shone softly through shades of silk and paper.
The music stopped, the laughter and voices grew louder and came nearer,
there was the sound of approaching feet--and then a whole army of
mortals surrounded the prince's kingdom.
They were a far smaller and finer race than the giants he had seen
hitherto, with pretty fresh complexions, and wearing, some of them, soft
shimmering dresses that he thought only fairies ever wore. After a
little confusion, they ranged themselves in one long line completely
round the plain; the taller beings glided softly about behind, and the
prince prepared himself to receive their congratulations with proper
dignity and modesty.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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