Лучшие английские сказки / Best english fairy tales - стр. 4

‘SOMEBODY HAS BEEN LYING IN MY BED!’ said the great, huge bear, in his great, rough, gruff voice. Goldilocks had pulled the bed cover of the middle bear out of its place.

‘Somebody has been lying in my bed!’ said the middle bear, in his middle voice.

And when the small, wee bear came to look at his bed, there was the bed cover in its place, and the pillow in its place and the bolster. But on the pillow was a pool of golden curls, and the angelic face of a little girl snoring away, fast asleep.

‘Somebody has been lying in my bed, and here she is!’ Said the little, small wee bear, in his little, small wee voice.

Goldilocks heard in her sleep the great rough gruff voice of the great huge bear, but she was so fast asleep that it was no more to her than the roaring of wind or the rumbling of thunder. She had heard the voice of the middle, but it was as if she had only heard someone speaking in a dream. But when she heard the little, small wee voice of the little, small wee bear, it was so sharp and so shrill that it wakened her at once.

Up she started, and when she saw the three bears at one side of the bed she had the fright of her life. To tell you the truth, the bears were almost as alarmed by her as[4] she was by them.

Goldilocks jumped off the bed and ran downstairs, out of the door and down the garden path. She ran and she ran until she reached the house of her grandmama. When she told her grandmama about the house of the three bears who lived in the wood, her granny said: ‘My my, what a wild imagination you have, child!’

But Goldilocks knew that the story was true, and as for the three bears, whenever they went out of their wee house in the woods, they always locked the door in case Goldilocks came back and stole their porridge again. But they need not have worried about Goldilocks because, for as long as she lived she never took anything that didn’t belong to her – unless of course she had the permission of the owner.

Once there was a little red hen. She lived in a little red henhouse, safe and sound, with a little blue door and windows all around. She was a happy hen. Every day she searched for grain with a peck, peck, peck and a cluck, cluck, cluck. But then a sly young fox and his mother moved into a nearby den. The sly fox was always hungry. He licked his lips when he grain with a peck, peck, peck and a cluck, cluck, cluck. And then the sly fox tried to catch the little red hen. He plotted and planned, again and again. But the little red hen was clever. She always got away, with a peck, peck, peck and a cluck, cluck, cluck. But then the sly fox thought up a very sly plan. ‘Mother, boil some water in a pan,’ he said. ‘I’ll bring home supper tonight.’ Then he crept over to the little red henhouse. And he waited until at last the little red hen came out to search for grain with a peck, peck, peck and a cluck, cluck, cluck. Quick as a flash, the sly fox slipped into the henhouse. And he waited until the little red hen came hurrying home. As soon as she saw the fox, she flew up to the rafters. ‘You can’t catch me now!’ she laughed, with a peck, peck, peck and a cluck, cluck, cluck. ‘All part of my plan,’ smiled the fox on the ground. And slowly he started to chase his tail, round and round and round and round, faster and faster… until the little red hen up in the rafters grew dizzy. ‘Oh!’ she clucked. ‘My poor head’s spinning. I’m all in a tizzy.’ And she dropped down – plop! – straight into the fox’s sack. ‘Ha!’ laughed the fox. And then the fox slung the sack over his shoulder and set off for home with the little red hen. After a while, he stopped for a rest. The sun was warm and soon he was snoozing. ‘Now’s my chance,’ whispered the little red hen, and out she crept without a peck, peck, peck or a cluck, cluck, cluck. Quickly she rolled some large stones into the sack and tied a knot at the top. Then she ran all the way home and didn’t stop till she was safe in her little red henhouse. The fox woke up and went on his way, hungry for his supper. ‘This hen is heavy!’ he said to himself, licking his lips. ‘She’ll make a good meal.’ ‘Is the pot boiling, Mother?’ he called at the den. ‘Look who I’ve got! It’s the little red hen.’ ‘Throw her in, son,’ said his mother. ‘She’ll make a nice snack.’ So the sly fox opened up the sack. Into the boiling water crashed the stones with a SPLASH! And that was the end of the sly fox and his mother. And the little red hen lived happily ever after in her little red henhouse, searching for grain with a peck, peck, peck and a cluck, cluck, cluck.