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Title: The Giant Hands
or, The Reward of Industry
Author: Alfred Crowquill
Release Date: January 24, 2004 [EBook #10816]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GIANT HANDS ***
Produced by Internet Archive; University of Florida, David Garcia, and
the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
[Illustration: THE POOR HOME.]
_Alfred Crowquill's Fairy Tales._
* * * * *
THE
GIANT HANDS:
OR,
THE REWARD OF INDUSTRY.
* * * * *
LONDON:
G. ROUTLEDGE & CO., FARRINGDON STREET.
NEW YORK: 18, BEEKMAN STREET.
1856.
LONDON:
SAVILL AND EDWARDS, PRINTERS, CHANDOS STREET,
COVENT GARDEN.
THE GIANT HANDS.
Poor lit-tle Wil-lie re-turn-ed from the for-est la-den with as much
wood as his fee-ble strength could bear. He was hun-gry and wea-ry, and
had a great sor-row at his heart, for he had lost his fa-ther in the
ear-ly spring, leav-ing his mo-ther to toil for a scant live-li-hood to
sup-port her-self and him.
He threw the wood up-on the cin-ders on the hearth, and quick-ly rais-ed
a cheer-ful blaze, at which he warm-ed his na-ked, swol-len feet, as he
watch-ed the smoke ma-king its fan-tas-tic ed-dies up the wide chim-ney,
and a-midst the raf-ters of the low roof. He heav-ed a deep sigh; for he
saw no pot up-on the fire, which ought to have been bub-bling up with
their fru-gal din-ner: but, a-las! they had none.
"This must not be any long-er," thought he, "for I am get-ting ve-ry big
and strong, and have a pair of hands that ought not to be i-dle. As my
poor mo-ther gets weak-er, I should work for her; and as I grow in-to a
man, she should not work any more, but sit by the fire and get the
din-ner rea-dy, which I shall then be a-ble to la-bour for."
[Illustration: MEETING THE HANDS.]
Wil-lie was of an in-dus-tri-ous mind, and did not love to sit i-dle
when e-ven his ti-ny strength might be used to some end.
So he sat and lis-ten-ed for the foot-step of his poor mo-ther, who, he
knew, would come home, wea-ri-ed with la-bour, to share her scan-ty
crust with her boy.
He had not to wait long be-fore the latch lift-ed, and his mo-ther
en-ter-ed. She kiss-ed him, and threw her-self in-to a chair, with the
tears of fa-tigue and ex-haus-tion in her eyes.
He em-bra-ced her, and whis-per-ed in-to her ear his firm resolve to
start out in-to the world, and seek for la-bour, that he might no
long-er be a bur-then to her. Her heart sank at the i-dea; but she saw
no o-ther means to save them from star-va-tion, as her fail-ing strength
gave warn-ing of the in-e-vi-ta-ble e-vil.
The morn-ing a-rose bright and cheer-ful. The old lock-er was o-pen-ed,
and his on-ly shoes, trea-sur-ed for high-days and ho-li-days, were
ta-ken out and brush-ed up, as was al-so his best suit, which was
in-deed ve-ry lit-tle bet-ter than the care-ful-ly mend-ed suit of his
e-ve-ry-day wear. He, how-e-ver, thought him-self ve-ry fine, and felt
that his ap-pear-ance would act as a re-com-men-da-tion in his fa-vour.
They sat down to break-fast: it was a ve-ry tear-ful one, and, with a
strange feel-ing, they a-void-ed each o-ther's looks, hop-ing to hide
their tears one from the o-ther.
Oh! it want-ed a great re-so-lu-tion for poor Wil-lie to say, "Well!
dear mo-ther, I must be start-ing;" but he did do it at last, al-though
it was af-ter ma-ny strug-gles to keep down the beat-ings of his heart.
[Illustration: THE FIRST ASSISTANCE.]
His mo-ther heard him with a be-wil-der-ed look, as if she heard the
pro-po-sal for the first time; and her grief burst forth with
un-con-trol-la-ble vi-o-lence as she threw her arms round his neck with
an a-go-ny on-ly known to a fond mo-ther.
He tried to com-fort her, and to smile through his tears, as he put on
his hat with a re-so-lute thump, seiz-ed up-on his stick and wal-let,
and lift-ed the latch of the door that was to o-pen for his bold
en-trance in-to the world, so full of pro-mise to him.
Again they lin-ger-ed in their lit-tle gar-den, where e-ve-ry flow-er
seem-ed an old friend to be part-ed with: a-gain the tears and the
em-bra-ces. At last the lit-tle gate was swung wide o-pen, and Wil-lie
step-ped bold-ly forth. His mo-ther co-ver-ed her face and wept. He
turn-ed to-wards her with ir-re-so-lu-tion: he felt how dif-fi-cult it
was to leave one so dear and af-fec-tion-ate; but his du-ty was sim-ple,
and he would do it: with one more "good bye," he was gone on his way
weep-ing.
The lark rose in the morn-ing sky, and sang her joy-ous song. The sweet,
bal-my air of ear-ly day cool-ed his throb-bing brow, and his tears
gra-du-al-ly ceas-ed to flow; but his lit-tle breast heav-ed now and
then with sobs as the storm of grief sub-si-ded. His foot-steps grew
quick-er the far-ther he left his home be-hind; for be-fore him lay the
land of pro-mise, and his lit-tle brain was full of dreams of suc-cess,
and the con-se-quent joy that would be at his heart when he re-trod
those ve-ry fields on his re-turn, la-den with rich-es to throw in-to
his mo-ther's lap.
[Illustration: THE LITTLE TENT.]
As these thoughts rush-ed through his mind, they gave him much com-fort;
and he even hummed an air as he trot-ted on, to show his man-li-ness and
cou-rage.
Pre-sen-tly, as he pass-ed through a val-ley which was la-den with the
sweets of wild flow-ers that bloom-ed on ei-ther side, a cu-ri-ous and
al-most trans-pa-rent flee-cy cloud ap-pear-ed a-cross his path, from
which a-rose _two e-nor-mous hands_. He start-ed, and well he
might, for he saw no-bo-dy be-long-ing to them: no, there they were,
on-ly hands. There was no fear of them, for they were spread o-pen up-on
the grass be-fore him with-out the slight-est ex-pres-sion of
threat-en-ing in them.
As he stood ga-zing with won-der up-on them, a voice, which ap-pear-ed
to pr-oceed from the cloud, said,--
"Wil-lie, be not a-fraid: I know the praise-wor-thy er-rand that you are
on, and I come to be-friend you. Per-se-vere in your de-sire to be
in-dus-tri-ous, and. I will be e-ver rea-dy to as-sist you. I shall be
in-vi-si-ble to all eyes but yours, and will work when the need
ap-pears. Come on, then, and fear not; the road to suc-cess is o-pen to
you, as it al-ways is to in-dus-tr-ious re-so-lu-tion."
"Thank you, good hands," said Wil-lie; "I am sure you mean me good, for
I am too lit-tle for you to wish to harm." The arms va-nish-ed, and
Wil-lie pro-ceed-ed on his way.
He felt so re-as-su-red by this ex-tra-or-di-na-ry ad-ven-ture, which
pro-mi-sed so well for his fu-ture suc-cess, that he leap-ed and dan-ced
a-long his path with ex-cite-ment and de-light: he look-ed for-ward to
no ob-sta-cle to stop him in his ca-reer, and he pur-su-ed his way
re-joic-ing.
[Illustration: THE OGRESS'S CASTLE.]
How-e-ver, as the day grew on, he slack-en-ed his pace, for the
un-ac-cus-tom-ed fa-tigue be-gan to tell up-on his frame; so at last he
threw him-self up-on the grass, and look-ed up-wards to the blue sky,
and watch-ed the flee-cy clouds pur-sue each o-ther a-cross the
bound-less ex-panse of the hea-vens. As he lay, half dream-ing, he
thought he heard some-thing like the roll-ing of thun-der: he lis-ten-ed
with great-er at-ten-tion, un-til he was as-sur-ed there was some cause
in his close vi-ci-ni-ty for the un-u-su-al and cu-ri-ous sounds. He
a-rose, and pro-ceed-ed to-wards the di-rec-tion of the sounds, which
grew loud-er and loud-er as he ad-van-ced; when, com-ing to the edge of
a pre-ci-pice, he be-held a grand and aw-ful rush of foam-ing wa-ters,
which threw them-selves head-long down the riv-en rocks with a
deaf-en-ing roar and tu-mult.
He look-ed from right to left, and his way seem-ed bar-red by this
tre-men-dous ob-sta-cle. His heart fail-ed him as he saw how
im-pos-si-ble it was for him to pro-ceed: in-deed, as he sat him-self
down on the edge of the ca-ta-ract, he could not help weep-ing at his
un-ex-pect-ed di-lem-ma.
He had not been ma-ny mi-nutes in-dul-ging in his grief, when he felt
him-self gent-ly lift-ed from the ground by a gi-gan-tic hand, which
pass-ed him high a-bove the threat-en-ing wa-ters, and pla-ced him in
safe-ty on the op-po-site bank. As the hand put him on his feet, it
be-came in-dis-tinct; but be-fore it had quite van-ish-ed, Wil-lie took
off his hat, and, bow-ing, said,--"Thank you kind-ly, good hand; you
have kept your promise well."
[Illustration: THE OGRESS'S CASTLE.]
Cer-tain now that the fai-ry hands were not a dream, which he had
real-ly be-gun to think them, his cou-rage rose with the con-vic-tion of
the pro-tec-tion which sur-round-ed him from their great pow-er and
good-will to-wards him.
He soon came to a dense wood, where the gi-gan-tic trees, with gnarl-ed
and twist-ed trunks, wound their e-nor-mous limbs a-round each o-ther in
the most fan-tas-tic forms, and the tan-gled un-der-wood twi-ned like
snakes a-cross the path, as if to for-bid any ven-tu-rous foot from
en-ter-ing into the dark green depths. He, how-e-ver, look-ed up-on all
such ob-sta-cles as no-thing in com-pa-ri-son with the last which he had
been en-a-bled to sur-mount with the as-sist-ance of the hands. So he
plun-ged on, strik-ing right and left, to clear his way, with his good
stick. As he was lay-ing a-bout with a right good will, he was brought
to a stand-still by a fe-ro-ci-ous growl. He turn-ed his eyes a-round,
and be-held, much to his dis-may, a fierce wolf pre-par-ing to spring
up-on him. He shrank down with ter-ror as he look-ed up-on the white
teeth and fi-e-ry eyes of the sa-vage brute, and gave him-self up for
lost, when, to his joy, one of the great hands e-mer-ged from a-midst
the thick fo-li-age of a tree, and pla-ced it-self be-tween him and his
en-e-my; at the same time the o-ther hand seiz-ed the wolf, and crush-ed
it in its grasp.
Wil-lie fell on his knees, and re-turn-ed thanks for his de-li-ver-ance;
then, look-ing round for the hands, he found they had va-nish-ed.
[Illustration: THE KITCHEN OF THE OGRESS.]
Wea-ri-ed with his jour-ney, he sat down un-der a tree, de-ter-min-ed to
rest for the night; and pull-ing out his wal-let, pre-par-ed to re-fresh
him-self with part of its con-tents, for he had scarce-ly eat-en any all
day, so com-plete-ly had he been ta-ken up by the won-der-ful
ap-pear-ance of the good hands.
Af-ter fi-nish-ing his meal, which he did with ex-ceed-ing rel-ish, he
be-gan to turn o-ver in his mind how he was to make up his bed in his
ve-ry large bed-cham-ber, for it ap-pear-ed as if he had got the great
fo-rest all to him-self. When he had col-lect-ed a suf-fi-ci-en-cy of
dri-ed leaves to-ge-ther to make his rest-ing place soft-er, he
pre-par-ed to lie down, when, to his as-to-nish-ment and de-light, he
be-held the gi-gan-tic hands spread them-selves over him, with the
fin-gers en-twin-ed, ma-king for him the most per-fect lit-tle tent in
the world. How his heart bound-ed with gra-ti-tude to-wards the good
fai-ry hands, as he felt how safe-ly he might in-dulge in his slum-bers
be-neath such pro-tec-tion!
"Thank you a-gain, good hands," said he, "for your kind care of me; but
be-fore I say my pray-ers, can-not you, since you are so pow-er-ful,
tell me some-thing of my dear mo-ther--whe-ther she is more con-so-led,
and whe-ther she has food to eat?"
"Good Wil-lie," re-plied a voice, "your mo-ther knows that you will be
pro-tect-ed, as all good chil-dren are; and she has food, for she is
in-dus-tri-ous; her hands were giv-en to her from my king-dom, in which
no i-dle hands are ever made, as you shall know from me here-af-ter.
Sleep, then, in peace, that you may rise pre-pa-red for la-bour on the
com-ing morn." So Wil-lie slept.
[Illustration: THE DEATH OF THE OGRESS.]
Wil-lie was ear-ly a-foot; for the day, ac-cord-ing to the hands, was to
be a day of la-bour, with its fruits. He soon left the wood be-hind him,
and saw a large cas-tle before him.
"Here, sure-ly, is some-thing to be done," thought he; so he leapt up
the steps, and tri-ed to raise the knock-er, but it was too hea-vy for
his pu-ny strength. In an in-stant the hands ap-pear-ed, and knock-ed
such a dou-ble knock, that it e-cho-ed like thun-der through the
val-ley, and you might have heard it rum-bling a-way on the dis-tant
moun-tains.
The door o-pen-ed with a sud-den jerk, and the mis-tress of the man-sion
ap-pear-ed. The mo-ment Wil-lie saw her, he back-ed down the steps, for
she was an o-gress, and as ug-ly as o-gress-es ge-ne-ral-ly are. She
gla-red up-on the lit-tle-man who she sup-po-sed had giv-en that great
knock, with sur-prise and as-to-nish-ment; and then, in a voice like a
ve-ry hoarse ra-ven, she cri-ed--
"How dar-ed you to knock like that at my door, you lit-tle var-let? You
have put me all in a twit-ter."
Wil-lie trem-bling-ly took off his hat, and re-pli-ed in an hum-ble
voice, "If you please, prin-cess, I wish-ed to know whe-ther you want-ed
a ser-vant to as-sist in your mag-ni-fi-cent cas-tle."
"A ser-vant, brat!" said she; "what can you do?"
"Any-thing to please your high-ness, for I want to work."
"Oh, oh! do you? Then, come in, for my ser-vants have all left me
be-cause I don't put my work out," said she.
[Illustration: THE RESCUE.]
With that, Wil-lie en-ter-ed, and soon found that he had plen-ty to do;
for his first job was to get the o-gress's din-ner ready, who, in truth,
had no de-li-cate ap-pe-tite, for the pro-vi-si-on con-sist-ed of fish,
fowl, beef, soup, mut-ton, and ham-pers of ve-ge-ta-bles.
He sigh-ed as he look-ed up-on such a-bun-dance, which would have di-ned
sump-tu-ous-ly his own na-tive vil-lage. A-gain he sigh-ed: as he did
so, the gi-ant hands ap-pear-ed. If you could on-ly have seen them truss
this, skew-er that, boil the o-ther, turn out the sau-ces, pick the
pic-kles, cut the bread, and put the dish-es to the fire, you would have
been as-to-nish-ed, Wil-lie all the time do-ing all he knew to aid in
the work.
The o-gress di-ned, and smi-led up-on her trea-sure of a ser-vant.
Self-in-dul-gent people are al-ways un-grate-ful; and so the o-gress
pro-ved, for she was con-ti-nu-al-ly de-si-ring more and more at the
hands of poor Wil-lie, un-til he had no rest: and, one day, when she had
been more im-po-sing than u-su-al, he turn-ed round, and told her that
she left him hard-ly time to sleep, and that her ap-pe-tite was
fright-ful.
Could you have seen her face, you would have been as fright-en-ed as
Wil-lie was.
"Lit-tle wretch!" scream-ed she, "I have half a mind to snap you up as I
would the wing of a chick-en: and, re-mem-ber from this mo-ment, if my
din-ner is short of what I de-sire, I will eat you to make up for what
you have o-mit-ted."
"Then I shall leave you," said Wil-lie.
[Illustration: THE REAPING.]
Rage made the face of the o-gress glow like a fur-nace, as she made a
pounce at poor Wil-lie for his ill-ad-vis-ed speech; and she would have
caught him in her gripe, had he not dod-ged round a large bun-dle of
ve-ge-ta-bles which luck-i-ly lay on the floor. Round and round she went
af-ter him, un-til he felt that he must be caught; when a ve-ry large
hand grasp-ed her round the waist, and hur-ri-ed her, yell-ing, out of
the kit-chen; Wil-lie fol-low-ing, re-turn-ing thanks for his
de-li-ver-ance. They came to a large win-dow which o-pen-ed to the sea:
the hand thrust the o-gress out, and held her ex-ten-ded over the
roll-ing waves.
"Mercy! mercy!" groan-ed, the o-gress, as she gaz-ed upon the aw-ful
depth be-neath her.
The hand gra-du-al-ly re-lax-ed its hold; and the o-gress, with one
des-pair-ing cry, whirl-ed o-ver and o-ver, and fell with such a plump
in-to the sea, that the spray flew o-ver the high-est tow-er, and the
fish-es swam a-way in ter-ror. She went down, down, down: but never came
up, up, up.
Wil-lie ran out of the front door; and when he got to the mar-gin of the
sea, he turn-ed his eye to the waves, ex-pect-ing every mo-ment to see
the head of the dread-ful o-gress pop up a-gain; but it did not. He saw
the good hands fol-low-ing him: they plun-ged into the sea close at his
feet; he jump-ed in-to the palm of one, and seat-ed himself. Be-tween
the fin-ger and thumb of each hand was one of his cook-ing forks, stuck
through two of the o-gress's ve-ry best hand-ker-chiefs, which made
ve-ry ad-mi-ra-ble sails, catch-ing the wind, and waft-ing him a-long
o-ver the sea as well as the fi-nest ship e-ver built.
[Illustration: THE PLOUGHING.]
As the moon rose, it found him safe-ly land-ed and snug under the roof
of a good farm-er who had pro-mi-sed him work--ay, e-ven as much as he
could do: but the farm-er did not know the trea-sure he pos-sess-ed, for
the next morn-ing lit-tle Wil-lie was work-ing in his shirt-sleeves in
the corn-field reap-ing and shear-ing as much as two men, and stout ones
too, could do in a long day. But there, un-der the shel-ter of the high
corn, were the friend-ly hands work-ing mi-ra-cles; ga-ther-ing up the
corn, and put-ting it in-to sheaves in a man-ner that could not be
e-qual-led by mor-tal hands.
Wil-lie whistl-ed, and cut a-way, not-with-stand-ing the burn-ing heat
of the sun: his sic-kle glis-ten-ed, and the corn fell in such long
sweeps that I do be-lieve it was as ma-gi-cal as the hands them-selves.
The long-est day will, how-e-ver, have an end: but when Wil-lie's first
day wa-ned, the farm-er was struck with as-to-nish-ment at be-hold-ing
the gold-en rows of hea-vy corn, stand-ing for his ad-mi-ra-tion in the
well ti-ed sheaves. He look-ed from the lit-tle man to the fruits of his
la-bour, and pro-mi-sed to him-self to do his best to se-cure so
va-lu-a-ble a ser-vant.
"Oh, oh!" said the farm-er, "if he can reap so well, per-haps he can
plough:" so ac-cord-ing-ly the next morn-ing found lit-tle Wil-lie as a
plough-man. But how could he know how to do it? any one would say. Why,
the hands guid-ed the plough; and the lands were plough-ed in fur-rows
as straight as the flight of an ar-row sped by the strong-est arm.
[Illustration: THE BRIDGE.]
The farm-er watch-ed from his win-dow, but the hands were in-vi-si-ble
to his eyes: he saw the plough cut its way un-err-ing-ly in-to the
bo-som of the earth, in a man-ner that sur-pri-sed e-ven his
ex-pe-ri-ence, and he a-gain bless-ed his good for-tune that had giv-en
him such a won-der-ful lit-tle la-bour-er.
Wil-lie sat at the board of the good farm-er, who thought he could not
make too much of him, for he was grate-ful to the in-dus-tri-ous youth,
who seem-ed to take plea-sure in work-ing for the in-ter-est of his
mas-ter. Time roll-ed on, and Wil-lie be-came quite head man, for it was
found that he could be en-trust-ed with any-thing. One day, when he was
out on the moun-tains, where he had gone to ga-ther the flocks for the
shear-ing, heavy storms came on, and the floods de-lu-ged the val-ley,
sweep-ing the flocks and the herds a-way in their head-long course.
Wil-lie wise-ly kept his charge upon the moun-tain's side un-til the
wa-ters had in some de-gree sub-si-ded; but he was a-larm-ed when he
de-scend-ed in-to the val-leys to find that, in ma-ny pla-ces, the
wa-ter was im-pass-a-ble to his charge. As he stood in deep thought, the
gi-ant hands spread them-selves over the tur-bid wa-ters, form-ing the
most per-fect bridge im-a-gin-a-ble. He drove the sheep a-cross with-out
fear, and reach-ed his mas-ter's house in safe-ty, much to the joy of
all, who had giv-en him up for lost.
[Illustration: THE ESCAPE FROM THE FIRE.]
As Wil-lie lay down that night, full of gra-ti-tude for his great good
for-tune, and think-ing of his home, to which he knew he should so soon
re-turn to take hap-pi-ness to his fond mo-ther, he was sud-den-ly
a-rous-ed by screams of ter-ror and cries of a-larm. He jump-ed from his
bed, and put-ting on his clothes, rush-ed in-to the farm-yard, where, to
his hor-ror, he be-held his good mas-ter wring-ing his hands, and
a-ban-don-ed to grief; for the flames were fast de-vour-ing his
peace-ful house, and, worse than all, they had reach-ed the cham-ber of
his fa-vour-ite daugh-ter, whom he had in vain at-tempt-ed to res-cue,
for no lad-der could reach her win-dow, and the stair-case had long been
burnt. Wil-lie look-ed on in des-pair, for he could de-vise no means to
save the poor child; when sud-den-ly the gi-ant hands ap-pear-ed, and
plac-ing them-selves a-gainst the side of the house, form-ed a lad-der,
up which Wil-lie sprang with-out the least he-si-ta-tion. In a few
mo-ments he gain-ed the suf-fo-cat-ing cham-ber of the girl, and
fold-ing her in his arms, rush-ed down the friend-ly hands, and pla-ced
her, unharm-ed, in the em-brace of her des-pair-ing fa-ther.
* * * * *
A hea-vi-ly la-den wag-gon creaks along the wind-ing road, co-ver-ed
with a tilt as white as snow; but what has it in-side? You can peep and
see: beau-ti-ful ta-bles and chairs, and sides of ba-con, and geese and
chick-ens, and fair round chees-es, and rolls of gold-en but-ter, with
white eggs peep-ing through the bars of their wick-er pris-on. Where is
the wag-gon go-ing? To mar-ket, per-haps: ask the youth who is trudg-ing
by its side, with a smil-ing, hap-py face, rud-dy with health and the
warm tinge of the sun.
[Illustration: THE TRIUMPHANT RETURN.]
Why, I de-clare that it is Wil-lie, grown quite stout and strong! Where
is he go-ing with that well-stored wag-gon, which real-ly has no hor-ses
to draw it, and yet it goes for-ward at a pret-ty pace? Why, I do
be-lieve that the gi-ant hands are drag-ging it along!
It is Wil-lie, in-deed; and, joy-ous mo-ment! he is go-ing home. In his
pock-et he has much bright sil-ver, the pro-duce of his la-bour: the
con-tents of the wag-gon shows the farm-er's gra-ti-tude to Wil-lie for
his promp-ti-tude, en-er-gy, and in-dus-try; and, more than all, for his
risk-ing his life to save that of his dar-ling child.
At last the cot-tage path is reach-ed. His mo-ther is stand-ing at the
gate: Wil-lie shouts; such a heart-y shout! His mo-ther looks up-on him,
but can-not speak: he is soon in her arms.
That night they sat late be-side their blaz-ing hearth: a-midst the
smoke might now be seen a large well-filled pot bub-bling with
some-thing more than wa-ter in it.
How much Wil-lie had to tell his mo-ther of his la-bour, and what he
ow-ed to the won-der-ful gi-ant hands, pre-serv-ing him through all
dan-gers, and e-ver yield-ing him as-sist-ance!
Wil-lie's mo-ther smi-led up-on him, as he con-clu-ded his nar-ra-tive,
with a kiss.
"Dear child," said she, "you have been in-deed for-tu-nate; but you were
de-serv-ing. That which ap-pears to you as a mi-ra-cle is none. Those
gi-ant hands have been known to ma-ny: their pow-er is e-nor-mous; they
al-ways as-sist the will-ing and the good; the re-ward they be-stow is
cer-tain; they are the pow-er-ful _hands of In-dus-try._
THE END.
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15. History of Tom Thumb. (The)
16. Cinderella; or, the Three Sisters.
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19. Aladdin; or, the Wonderful Lamp.
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22. The Dog's Dinner Party.
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24. Hop o' my Thumb.
25. The Butterfly's Ball.
26. Little Red Riding Hood.
27. The Little Dog Trusty (By Maria Edgeworth).
28. The Cherry Orchard.
29. Dick Whittington and his Cat.
30. The History of Our Pets.
31. Punch and Judy.
32. The History of John Gilpin.
33. The History of Blue Beard.
34. Old Mother Hubbard.
35. Little Totty.
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37. Sinbad the Sailor. (The History of)
38. Jack and the Bean Stalk.
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