|The Princess and the Goblin|
|by George MacDonald|
|A marvelous tale of how the princess and Curdie, with the help of the great-great-grandmother, overcome the wicked goblins of the mountain. In the sphere of fantasy, author George MacDonald has few equals, and his rare touch of many aspects of life invariably gives to his stories a deeper meaning of the highest value. A contemporary writes of The Princess and the Goblin: "It is a graceful story, full of romance and adventure, with a deep meaning underlying the beauty of the surface, which gives it the life and mystery which forms the subtle charm MacDonald weaves into all his works, especially those for the young. Faith in that which is invisible, and the courage of that which we believe, are what he tries to teach. He speaks with a tender, earnest eloquence which draws a response from the reader, like music from the harp of a master minstrel." Ages 7-10 |
URDIE was as watchful as ever, but was almost getting tired of his
ill success. Every other night or so he followed the goblins
about, as they went on digging and boring, and getting as near them
as he could, watched them from behind stones and rocks; but as yet
he seemed no nearer finding out what they had in view. As at
first, he always kept hold of the end of his string, while his
pickaxe, left just outside the hole by which he entered the
goblins' country from the mine, continued to serve as an anchor and
hold fast the other end. The goblins, hearing no more noise in
that quarter, had ceased to apprehend an immediate invasion, and
kept no watch.
One night, after dodging about and listening till he was nearly
falling asleep with weariness, he began to roll up his ball, for he
had resolved to go home to bed. It was not long, however,
be-  fore he began to feel bewildered. One after another he passed goblin
houses, caves, that is, occupied by goblin families, and at length
was sure they were many more than he had passed as he came. He had
to use great caution to pass unseen—they lay so close together.
Could his string have led him wrong? He still followed winding it,
and still it led him into more thickly populated quarters, until he
became quite uneasy, and indeed apprehensive; for although he was
not afraid of the cobs, he was afraid of not finding his way out.
But what could he do? It was of no use to sit down and wait for
the morning—the morning made no difference here. It was dark,
and always dark; and if his string failed him he was helpless. He
might even arrive within a yard of the mine and never know it.
Seeing he could do nothing better he would at least find where the
end of his string was, and, if possible, how it had come to play
him such a trick. He knew by the size of the ball that he was
getting pretty near the last of it, when he began to feel a tugging
and pulling at it. What could it mean? Turning a sharp corner, he
thought he heard strange sounds. These grew, as he went on,
 to a
scuffling and growling and squeaking; and the noise increased,
until, turning a second sharp corner, he found himself in the midst
of it, and the same moment tumbled over a wallowing mass, which he
knew must be a knot of the cobs' creatures. Before he could
recover his feet, he had caught some great scratches on his face
and several severe bites on his legs and arms. But as he scrambled
to get up, his hand fell upon his pickaxe, and before the horrid
beasts could do him
 any serious harm, he was laying about with it
right and left in the dark. The hideous cries which followed gave
him the satisfaction of knowing that he had punished some of them
pretty smartly for their rudeness, and by their scampering and
their retreating howls, he perceived that he had routed them. He
stood for a little, weighing his battle-axe in his hand as if it
had been the most precious lump of metal—but indeed no lump of
gold itself could have been so precious at the time as that common
tool—then untied the end of the string from it, put the ball in
his pocket, and still stood thinking. It was clear that the cobs'
creatures had found his axe, had between them carried it off, and
had so led him he knew not where. But for all his thinking he
could not tell what he ought to do, until suddenly he became aware
of a glimmer of light in the distance. Without a moment's
hesitation he set out for it, as fast as the unknown and rugged way
would permit. Yet again turning a corner, led by the dim light, he
spied something quite new in his experience of the underground
regions—a small irregular shape of something shining. Going up
to it, he found it was a piece of mica,
 or Muscovy glass, called
sheep-silver in Scotland, and the light flickered as if from a fire
behind it. After trying in vain for some time to discover an
entrance to the place where it was burning, he came at length to a
small chamber in which an opening, high in the wall, revealed a
glow beyond. To this opening he managed to scramble up, and then
he saw a strange sight.
Below sat a little group of goblins around a fire, the smoke of
which vanished in the darkness far aloft. The sides of the cave
were full of shining minerals like those of the palace hall; and
the company was evidently of a superior order, for every one wore
stones about head, or arms, or waist, shining dull gorgeous colours
in the light of the fire. Nor had Curdie looked long before he
recognized the king himself, and found that he had made his way
into the inner apartment of the royal family. He had never had
such a good chance of hearing something. He crept through the hole
as softly as he could, scrambled a good way down the wall towards
them without attracting attention, and then sat down and listened.
The king, evidently the queen, and probably the crown prince and
the Prime Minister were talking
 together. He was sure of the queen
by her shoes, for as she warmed her feet at the fire, he saw them
"That will be fun!" said the one he took for the crown prince.
It was the first whole sentence he heard.
"I don't see why you should think it such a grand affair!" said his
stepmother, tossing her head backward.
"You must remember, my spouse," interposed His Majesty, as if
making excuse for his son, "he has got the same blood in him. His
"Don't talk to me of his mother! You positively encourage his
unnatural fancies. Whatever belongs to that mother ought to be cut
out of him."
"You forget yourself, my dear!" said the king.
"I don't," said the queen, "nor you either. If you expect me to
approve of such coarse tastes, you will find yourself mistaken. I
don't wear shoes for nothing."
"You must acknowledge, however," the king said, with a little
groan, "that this at least is no
 whim of Harelip's, but a matter of
State policy. You are well aware that his gratification comes
purely from the pleasure of sacrificing himself to the public good.
Does it not, Harelip?"
"Yes, father; of course it does. Only it will be nice to make her
cry. I'll have the skin taken off between her toes, and tie them
up till they grow together. Then her feet will be like other
people's, and there will be no occasion for her to wear shoes."
"Do you mean to insinuate I've got toes, you unnatural wretch?"
cried the queen; and she moved angrily towards Harelip. The
councillor, however, who was betwixt them, leaned forward so as to
prevent her touching him, but only as if to address the prince.
"Your Royal Highness," he said, "possibly requires to be reminded
that you have got three toes yourself—one on one foot, two on the
"Ha! ha! ha!" shouted the queen triumphantly.
The councillor, encouraged by this mark of favour, went on.
"It seems to me, Your Royal Highness, it would greatly endear you
to your future people,
 proving to them that you are not the less
one of themselves that you had the misfortune to be born of a
sun-mother, if you were to command upon yourself the comparatively
slight operation which, in a more extended form, you so wisely
meditate with regard to your future princess."
"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the queen louder than before, and the king
and the minister joined in the laugh. Harelip growled, and for a
few moments the others continued to express their enjoyment of his
The queen was the only one Curdie could see with any distinctness.
She sat sideways to him, and the light of the fire shone full upon
her face. He could not consider her handsome. Her nose was
certainly broader at the end than its extreme length, and her eyes,
instead of being horizontal, were set up like two perpendicular
eggs, one on the broad, the other on the small end. Her mouth was
no bigger than a small buttonhole until she laughed, when it
stretched from ear to ear—only, to be sure, her ears were very
nearly in the middle of her cheeks.
Anxious to hear everything they might say,
 Curdie ventured to slide
down a smooth part of the rock just under him, to a projection
below, upon which he thought to rest. But whether he was not
careful enough, or the projection gave way, down he came with a
rush on the floor of the cavern, bringing with him a great rumbling
shower of stones.
The goblins jumped from their seats in more anger than
consternation, for they had never yet seen anything to be afraid of
in the palace. But
 when they saw Curdie with his pick in his hand
their rage was mingled with fear, for they took him for the first
of an invasion of miners. The king notwithstanding drew himself up
to his full height of four feet, spread himself to his full breadth
of three and a half, for he was the handsomest and squarest of all
the goblins, and strutting up to Curdie, planted himself with
outspread feet before him, and said with dignity:
"Pray what right have you in my palace?"
"The right of necessity, Your Majesty," answered Curdie. "I lost
my way and did not know where I was wandering to."
"How did you get in?"
"By a hole in the mountain."
"But you are a miner! Look at your pickaxe!"
Curdie did look at it, answering:
"I came upon it lying on the ground a little way from here. I
tumbled over some wild beasts who were playing with it. Look, Your
Majesty." And Curdie showed him how he was scratched and bitten.
The king was pleased to find him behave more politely than he had
expected from what his
peo-  ple had told him concerning the miners,
for he attributed it to the power of his own presence; but he did
not therefore feel friendly to the intruder.
"You will oblige me by walking out of my dominions at once," he
said, well knowing what a mockery lay in the words.
"With pleasure, if Your Majesty will give me a guide," said Curdie.
"I will give you a thousand," said the king with a scoffing air of
"One will be quite sufficient," said Curdie.
But the king uttered a strange shout, half halloo, half roar, and
in rushed goblins till the cave was swarming. He said something to
the first of them which Curdie could not hear, and it was passed
from one to another till in a moment the farthest in the crowd had
evidently heard and understood it. They began to gather about him
in a way he did not relish, and he retreated towards the wall.
They pressed upon him.
"Stand back," said Curdie, grasping his pickaxe tighter by his
They only grinned and pressed closer. Curdie bethought himself and
began to rhyme.
"Ten, twenty, thirty—
You're all so very dirty!
Twenty, thirty, forty—
You're all so thick and snorty!
"Thirty, forty, fifty—
You're all so puff-and-snifty!
Forty, fifty, sixty—
Beast and man so mixty!
"Fifty, sixty, seventy—
Mixty, maxty, leaventy—
Sixty, seventy, eighty—
All your cheeks so slaty
"Seventy, eighty, ninety,
All your hands so flinty!
Eighty, ninety, hundred,
The goblins fell back a little when he began, and made horrible
grimaces all through the rhyme, as if eating something so
disagreeable that it set their teeth on edge and gave them the
creeps; but whether it was that the rhyming words were most of them
no words at all, for, a new rhyme being considered the more
efficacious, Curdie had made it on the spur of the moment, or
whether it was that the presence of the king and queen gave them
courage, I cannot tell; but the
 moment the rhyme was over they
crowded on him again, and out shot a hundred long arms, with a
multitude of thick nailless fingers at the ends of them, to lay
hold upon him. Then Curdie heaved up his axe. But being as gentle
as courageous and not wishing to kill any of them, he turned the
end which was square and blunt like a hammer, and with that came
down a great blow on the head of the goblin nearest him. Hard as
the heads of all goblins are, he thought he must feel that. And so
he did, no doubt; but he only gave a horrible cry, and sprung at
Curdie's throat. Curdie, however, drew back in time, and just at
that critical moment remembered the vulnerable part of the goblin
body. He made a sudden rush at the king and stamped with all his
might on His Majesty's feet. The king gave a most unkingly howl
and almost fell into the fire. Curdie then rushed into the crowd,
stamping right and left. The goblins drew back, howling on every
side as he approached, but they were so crowded that few of those
he attacked could escape his tread; and the shrieking and roaring
that filled the cave would have appalled Curdie but for the good
hope it gave him. They were
 tumbling over each other in heaps in
their eagerness to rush from the cave, when a new assailant
suddenly faced him—the queen, with flaming eyes and expanded
nostrils, her hair standing half up from her head, rushed at him.
She trusted in her shoes: they were of granite—hollowed like
French sabots. Curdie would have endured much rather than hurt a
woman, even if she was a goblin; but here was an affair of life and
death: forgetting her shoes, he made a great stamp on one of her
feet. But she instantly returned it with very different effect,
causing him frightful pain, and almost disabling him. His only
chance with her would have been to attack the granite shoes with
his pickaxe, but before he could think of that she had caught him
up in her arms and was rushing with him across the cave. She
dashed him into a hole in the wall, with a force that almost
stunned him. But although he could not move, he was not too far
gone to hear her great cry, and the rush of multitudes of soft
feet, followed by the sounds of something heaved up against the
rock; after which came a multitudinous patter of stones falling
near him. The last had not ceased when he grew very faint,
 for his head had been badly cut, and at last insensible.
When he came to himself there was perfect silence about him, and
utter darkness, but for the merest glimmer in one tiny spot. He
crawled to it, and found that they had heaved a slab against the
mouth of the hole, past the edge of which a poor little gleam found
its way from the fire. He could not move it a hairbreadth, for
they had piled a great heap of stones against it. He crawled back
to where he had been lying, in the faint hope of finding his
pickaxe, But after a vain search he was at last compelled to
acknowledge himself in an evil plight. He sat down and tried to
think, but soon fell fast asleep.
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