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Beauty and the Beast
A long time ago, in a far away land, a merchant was returning home, after a trip to a city at least 300 miles away from his house. As night fell, he entered the deep forrest that he had to pass through on the final leg of his journey.
His head was full of thoughts of his family, and his six daughters and six sons whom he was longing to see. It had been the height of summer when he had left home. Now he was returning in the depth of winter. The most bitter sleet and snow came down, and his horse stumbled on a patch of ice. He heard wolves howling, and soon he realised that he had lost his way
At length, he made out some sort of track, and though at the beginning it was rough and slippery, it soon led him into an avenue of trees. It seemed very strange that no snow had fallen in the avenue, which was entirely composed of orange trees, covered with flowers and fruit. He saw before him a flight of steps, and he went up them into a great castle, and passed through several splendidly furnished rooms.
Deep silence reigned everywhere, and at last, tired of roaming through the empty galleries, he stopped in a room smaller than the rest, where a clear fire was burning and a couch was drawn up closely to it. He sat down, and very soon fell into a sweet sleep.