She lived a long and
happy life, like any other ordinary woman, and died at length,
beloved, regretted, but, the prince being already no more, perfectly
contented.
HOP-O'-MY-THUMB.
There once lived in a village a faggot-maker and his wife, who had
seven children, all boys; the eldest was no more than ten years old,
and the youngest was only seven.
It was odd enough, to be sure, that they should have so many children
in such a short time; but the truth is, the wife always brought him
two and once three at a time. This made him very poor, for not one of
these boys was old enough to get a living, and what was still worse,
the youngest was a puny little fellow who hardly ever spoke a word.
Now this, indeed, was a mark of his good sense, but it made his father
and mother suppose him to be silly, and they thought that at last he
would turn out quite a fool. This boy was the least size ever seen;
for when he was born he was no bigger than a man's thumb, which made
him be christened by the name of Hop-o'-my-thumb. The poor child was
the drudge of the whole house and always bore the blame of everything
that was done wrong. For all this, Hop-o'-my-thumb was far more clever
than any of his brothers; and though he spoke but little, he heard and
knew more than people thought. It happened just at this time, that for
want of rain the fields had grown but half as much corn and potatoes
as they used to grow; so that the faggot-maker and his wife could not
give the boys the food they had before, which was always either bread
or potatoes.
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