READING INFERENCES
The Shopkeeper and The
Witch
Thomas Baldwin
In a forgotten corner of the city, at the end of a
nondescript back alley, was a small health food shop. It had been there more
than forty years and was once popular. Now, a dwindling number of faithful
regulars still dropped in for their traditional arthritis remedies, but it was
no longer enough to pay the rent.
The owner was a
white-haired old man called Mr. Robins, who lived in a flat above the shop. One
evening, just before closing time, he sat at the counter with the day's meagre
takings and a pile of bills. He sighed and put his head in his hands.
The door opened, and a
young woman entered. She was dirty, her clothes were torn, and she shivered in
the cold. "Please help me," she begged him, "I've had nothing to
eat all day."
Mr. Robins was a
kind-hearted man, so he sat her down, brought her a hot drink, and made a bowl
of porridge from the shop's last bag of oats. She looked around as she ate,
taking in the empty shelves and the peeling paint on the walls.
She finished the last
spoonful and put down the bowl. "Thank you," she said. "You're
very kind, and you have proved yourself worthy."
There was a flash and a
loud bang, and the room filled up with smoke. When it had cleared, the beggar
was transformed into a beautiful young woman in a black velvet cloak.
"Because you are a good man, I will help you," she told the
astonished shopkeeper.
From somewhere in her
cloak, she took out a dusty leather-bound book and a cauldron. "Now. What
can I make for you?"
Mr. Robins could only
stare.
"Come on!" she
urged. "What is it your customers most desire?"
With an effort, Mr. Robins
pulled himself together. "Er… to stay young, I suppose."
She flipped through the
pages. He glimpsed recipes for soups and stews, but also 'Love Potion' and
'Memory Tonic.' Finally, she stopped at 'Elixir of Youth.'
She bustled around the shop,
helping herself to ginger, rosewater, primrose oil, and other ingredients and
tossing them into the cauldron. Finally, she muttered, 'and a hair from a
witch's head.' She pulled out a single dark hair and added it to the mixture,
which boiled despite there being no heat.
Eventually, she presented
Mr. Robins with a tiny vial containing a clear liquid. "Mix one drop with
half a pint of water," she said. "I will be back in a month to make
more." Then, with a pop, she vanished.
There was just enough for
twenty doses. So he gave one each to the first five old ladies who came into
the shop the following day. Within days, they returned and brought their
friends. Their wrinkles were gone, the colour had returned to their hair for
the first time in decades, and they had the vigour and energy of people half
their age.
The young witch was as
good as her word, returning every month to make more of the elixir. But Mr.
Robins could not keep up with demand, despite charging more and more for it. He
thought that he might be able to make more himself, but it would be no good
without the hair from the witch's head, and she refused to give him more than
one at a time. Although he was now making enough money for a good living, Mr.
Robins grew greedy and resentful.
On the witch's fifth
visit, he was ready. He might not be able to make the Elixir of Youth, but he
knew enough to mix a strong sleeping draught. As she appeared in the shop, he
offered her a glass of wine 'to toast our partnership.' She accepted and drank.
He caught her as she collapsed, carried her up to his flat above the shop, laid
her on his bed, and cut off all her hair.
Going through her pockets,
he found the cookbook. He ransacked his own shop for the ingredients he needed
and then busied himself in the kitchen, making bottle after bottle.
When he had finished, he
looked at the bottles on the table, under the table, on every surface. He had
hundreds of doses and enough hair left to make many thousands more. What
difference would one make now? He took a bottle and drank it.
Instantly, he felt fresh
energy course through his muscles. His back straightened. He took off his
glasses and could see perfectly. He ran through to the bedroom, where he had a
full-length mirror. His face was unlined, his hair chestnut brown.
There was a groan from
behind him, and he turned as the witch's eyes fluttered open. She looked at him
sleepily, confused, then she put her hands to her bald head. Her eyes widened
as realisation dawned.
Mr. Robins braced himself
for her anger, but instead, she just looked sad. "You fool," she
said. "You greedy fool."
"I'm sorry," he
said. "But can't you just cast a spell to regrow your hair?"
"Give me my cookbook
back."
He went to the kitchen and
returned with the book.
"Turn to the last
page," she said.
He did. Inside the back
cover, in an ornate script, was written:
Magic, freely given, brings comfort and health
But when taken by force,
it means only death.
A chill gripped his heart. "Take the magic
back!" he said, panicking. "I don't want it!"
She shook her head.
"It's too late."
*
When the shop hadn't been
open for a week, the landlord asked the police to break in. They found only the
body of a young man whose heart had suddenly stopped. No one ever worked out
who he was, what he was doing there, or what had become of old Mr. Robins.
The Ant and The Grasshopper
Aesop
In a field one summer's day a Grasshopper
was hopping about, chirping and singing to its heart's content. An Ant passed
by, bearing along with great toil an ear of corn he was taking to the nest.
"Why not come and chat
with me," said the Grasshopper, "instead of toiling and moiling in
that way?"
"I am helping to lay up
food for the winter," said the Ant, "and recommend you to do the
same."
"Why bother about
winter?" said the Grasshopper; "We have got plenty of food at
present." But the Ant went on its way and continued its toil.
When the winter came the
Grasshopper had no food and found itself dying of hunger - while it saw the
ants distributing every day corn and grain from the stores they had collected
in the summer. Then the Grasshopper knew: It is best to prepare for days of
need.
The Princess and The Pea
Hans Christian Andersen
Once upon a time there was a prince who wanted to
marry a princess; but she would have to be a real princess. He travelled all
over the world to find one, but nowhere could he get what he wanted. There were
princesses enough, but it was difficult to find out whether they were real
ones. There was always something about them that was not as it should be. So he
came home again and was sad, for he would have liked very much to have a real
princess.
One evening a terrible
storm came on; there was thunder and lightning, and the rain poured down in torrents.
Suddenly a knocking was heard at the city gate, and the old king went to open
it.
It was a princess standing
out there in front of the gate. But, good gracious! what a sight the rain and
the wind had made her look. The water ran down from her hair and clothes; it
ran down into the toes of her shoes and out again at the heels. And yet she
said that she was a real princess.
Well, we'll soon find that
out, thought the old queen. But she said nothing, went into the bed-room, took
all the bedding off the bedstead, and laid a pea on the bottom; then she took
twenty mattresses and laid them on the pea, and then twenty eider-down beds on
top of the mattresses.
On this the princess had
to lie all night. In the morning she was asked how she had slept.
"Oh, very
badly!" said she. "I have scarcely closed my eyes all night. Heaven
only knows what was in the bed, but I was lying on something hard, so that I am
black and blue all over my body. It's horrible!"
Now they knew that she was
a real princess because she had felt the pea right through the twenty
mattresses and the twenty eider-down beds.
Nobody but a
real princess could be as sensitive as that.
So, the prince took her for
his wife, for now he knew that he had a real princess; and the pea was put in
the museum, where it may still be seen, if no one has stolen it.
There, that is a true story.
Sources:
http://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/ShopWitc1278.shtml
http://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/AntGra.shtml
http://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/PriPea.shtml
https://id.pinterest.com/pin/326862885464175374/
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