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good deal of goblin-tapping, but it all sounded far away in the hill, and he paid it little heed. Towards midnight he began to feel rather hungry; so he dropped his pickaxe, got out a lump of bread which in the morning he had laid in a damp hole in the rock, sat down on a heap of ore, and ate his supper. Then he leaned back for five minutes’ rest before beginning his work again, and laid his head against the rock. He had not kept the position for one minute before he heard something which made him sharpen his ears. It sounded like a voice inside the rock. After a while he heard it again. It was a goblin voice⁠—there could be no doubt about that⁠—and this time he could make out the words.

“Hadn’t we better be moving?” it said.

A rougher and deeper voice replied:

“There’s no hurry. That wretched little mole won’t be through tonight, if he work ever so hard. He’s not by any means at the thinnest place.”

“But you still think the lode does come through into our house?” said the first voice.

“Yes, but a good bit farther on than he has got to yet. If he had struck a stroke more to the side just here,” said the goblin, tapping the very stone, as it seemed to Curdie, against which his head lay, “he would have been through; but he’s a couple of yards past it now, and if he follow the lode it will be a week before it leads him in. You see it back there⁠—a long way. Still, perhaps, in case of accident it would be as well to be getting out of this. Helfer, you’ll take the great chest. That’s your business, you know.”

“Yes, dad,” said a third voice. “But you must help me to get it on my back. It’s awfully heavy, you know.”

“Well, it isn’t just a bag of smoke, I admit. But you’re as strong as a mountain, Helfer.”

“You say so, dad. I think myself I’m all right. But I could carry ten times as much if it wasn’t for my feet.”

“That is your weak point, I confess, my boy.”

“Ain’t it yours too, father?”

“Well, to be honest, it’s a goblin weakness. Why they come so soft, I declare I haven’t an idea.”

“Specially when your head’s so hard, you know, father.”

“Yes my boy. The goblin’s glory is his head. To think how the fellows up above there have to put on helmets and things when they go fighting! Ha! ha!”

“But why don’t we wear shoes like them, father? I should like it⁠—especially when I’ve got a chest like that on my head.”

“Well, you see, it’s not the fashion. The king never wears shoes.”

“The queen does.”

“Yes; but that’s for distinction. The first queen, you see⁠—I mean the king’s first wife⁠—wore shoes, of course, because she came from upstairs; and so, when she died, the next queen would not be inferior to her as she called it, and would wear shoes too. It was all pride. She is the hardest in forbidding them to the rest of the women.”

“I’m sure I wouldn’t wear them⁠—no, not for⁠—that I wouldn’t!” said the first voice, which was evidently that of the mother of the family. “I can’t think why either of them should.”

“Didn’t I tell you the first was from upstairs?” said the other. “That was the only silly thing I ever knew His Majesty guilty of. Why should he marry an outlandish woman like that⁠—one of our natural enemies too?”

“I suppose he fell in love with her.”

“Pooh! pooh! He’s just as happy now with one of his own people.”

“Did she die very soon? They didn’t tease her to death, did they?”

“Oh, dear, no! The king worshipped her very footmarks.”

“What made her die, then? Didn’t the air agree with her?”

“She died when the young prince was born.”

“How silly of her! We never do that. It must have been because she wore shoes.”

“I don’t know that.”

“Why do they wear shoes up there?”

“Ah, now that’s a sensible question, and I will answer it. But in order to do so, I must first tell you a secret. I once saw the queen’s feet.”

“Without her shoes?”

“Yes⁠—without her shoes.”

“No! Did you? How was it?”

“Never you mind how it was. She didn’t know I saw them. And what do you think!⁠—they had toes!”

“Toes! What’s that?”

“You may well ask! I should never have known if I had not seen the queen’s feet. Just imagine! the ends of her feet were split up into five or six thin pieces!”

“Oh, horrid! How could the king have fallen in love with her?”

“You forget that she wore shoes. That is just why she wore them. That is why all the men, and women too, upstairs wear shoes. They can’t bear the sight of their own feet without them.”

“Ah! now I understand. If ever you wish for shoes again, Helfer, I’ll hit your feet⁠—I will.”

“No, no, mother; pray don’t.”

“Then don’t you.”

“But with such a big box on my head⁠—”

A horrid scream followed, which Curdie interpreted as in reply to a blow from his mother upon the feet of her eldest goblin.

“Well, I never knew so much before!” remarked a fourth voice.

“Your knowledge is not universal quite yet,” said the father. “You were only fifty last month. Mind you see to the bed and bedding. As soon as we’ve finished our supper, we’ll be up and going. Ha! ha! ha!”

“What are you laughing at, husband?”

“I’m laughing to think what a mess the miners will find themselves in⁠—somewhere before this day ten years.”

“Why, what do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“Oh, yes, you do mean something. You always do mean something.”

“It’s more than you do, then, wife.”

“That may be; but it’s not more than I find out, you know.”

“Ha! ha! You’re a sharp one. What a mother you’ve got, Helfer!”

“Yes, father.”

“Well, I suppose I must tell you. They’re all at the palace consulting about it tonight; and as soon as we’ve got away from this thin place I’m going there to

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