Tuesday, 13 April 2010

The Red Shoes by Hans Christian Anderson, followed by the complete Wizard of Oz.

This is one of Ayliyah's favourite little tales, tho it is a bit grusome.
But with everyone tuning in to the find a new Dorothy,
well who else would need red shoes


     


        The Red Shoes


by Hans Christian Andersen
     

     


        (1845)
     


   

   

      NCE upon a time there was little girl,
      pretty and dainty. But in summer time she was obliged to go barefooted
      because she was poor, and in winter she had to wear large wooden shoes,
      so that her little instep grew quite red.
   

   

     
    
     In the middle of the village lived an old shoemaker’s wife; she sat down
      and made, as well as she could, a pair of little shoes out of some old
      pieces of red cloth. They were clumsy, but she meant well, for they were
      intended for the little girl, whose name was Karen.
   

   

      Karen received the shoes and wore them for the first time on the day of
      her mother’s funeral. They were certainly not suitable for mourning; but
      she had no others, and so she put her bare feet into them and walked
      behind the humble coffin.
   

   

      Just then a large old carriage came by, and in it sat an old lady; she
      looked at the little girl, and taking pity on her, said to the clergyman,
      “Look here, if you will give me the little girl, I will take care of
      her.

   

   

      Karen believed that this was all on account of the red shoes, but the old
      lady thought them hideous, and so they were burnt. Karen herself was
      dressed very neatly and cleanly; she was taught to read and to sew, and
      people said that she was pretty. But the mirror told her, “You are more
      than pretty—you are beautiful.”
   

   

      One day the Queen was travelling through that part of the country, and
      had her little daughter, who was a princess, with her. All the people,
      amongst them Karen too, streamed towards the castle, where the little
      princess, in fine white clothes, stood before the window and allowed
      herself to be stared at. She wore neither a train nor a golden crown, but
      beautiful red morocco shoes; they were indeed much finer than those which
      the shoemaker’s wife had sewn for little Karen. There is really nothing
      in the world that can be compared to red shoes!
   

No comments: