Nude. The French national fairy tale About fine Жанетон

Fairy tale about fine Жанетон

There lived once the French king with the queen, and they had a son, fine as the sun. Every morning, hardly рассветет, the young man went on hunting, and with it hundred псарей and seven hundred dogs. And always it came back to a decline.

But once in the evening the racer of the royal son has returned one: its owner has beaten off from the servants and has lost the way in wood. Night was dark, wolves howled.

The son of the French king has climbed up top of a huge oak and began to watch four winds heavenly. зги not to see.

Then the son of the French king has gone down from top of a huge oak, has laid down on the earth and has fallen asleep with the bared sword in a hand. When he has woken up, the sun already rose and sang birdies.

All the day the son of the French king went, wandering on a wood thicket. He drank from a stream, ate grasses and wild fruits. Dark night has then come. Wolves howled.

The son of the French king has climbed up top of a huge oak and began to watch four winds heavenly. зги not to see.

All the day the son of the French king wandered in a wood thicket. He drank from a stream, ate grasses and wild fruits. Dark night has then come. Wolves howled.

The son of the French king has again climbed up top of a huge oak and began to watch four winds heavenly. At last from a North side, far-far, he has noticed a small spark.

Then the son of the French king has gone down from top of a huge oak and long-long went to the north. In an hour till midnight it has knocked at a door of the lock mislaid in a wood thicket.

- Tuk-tuk!

The girl, fine as the sun, has opened to it.

- Hi, the beauty! I the son of the French king. Here three days and three nights I stray in wood, dying from hunger and thirst. My feet any more do not carry me. Allow to me to eat, the beauty, and приюти till the morning.

- The son of the French king, enter, eat more likely and run from here. It is the lock of my parents, the lock of the Cannibal and the Cannibal. Both are very greedy for human meat. They now walk in wood, but will return, as soon as will start to beat midnight. I do not want, that they have eaten you alive. The son of the French king, enter, eat more likely and run from here.

- The beauty, my feet any more do not carry me.

- Well, the son of the French king, enter, eat more likely and hide under a tub.

No sooner said than done. The cannibal and the Cannibal have returned, as soon as has started to beat midnight. It were giants, high as towers and black as soot. Cannibals and cannibals after all the non-Christian.

- U-gu-gu! Fine Жанетон, here smells крещеной as a flesh.

- No, the father! Yes is not present, mother! Is not present here any крещеной a flesh. Look and will see, that I do not deceive you.

The cannibal and the Cannibal began to search everywhere and have found nothing.

- U-gu-gu! Fine Жанетон, here smells крещеной as a flesh. Lay down to sleep. Tomorrow we will better look. If you to us have lain, we will eat you alive.

The cannibal and the Cannibal have laid down to sleep. But Fine Жанетон did not hurry up in bed. From a handful of ashes and a glass of own blood it blinded a pie - a pie allocated with wonderful force to speak for it till a dawn.

Having stuck together a pie, Fine Жанетон took a stick and seven-mile boots of the Cannibal and the Cannibal. Has then lifted a tub quietly-quietly:

- The son of the French king, we run from here more soon. Here for us the bad prepares.

And two of them have dashed away faster a wind. But the Cannibal and the Cannibal did not trust Fine Жанетон and only pretended to be, as if sleep.