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The Lilac Fairy Book

The Stones of Plouhinec
Perhaps some of you may have read a book called 'Kenneth; or the Rear-Guard of the
Grand Army' of Napoleon. If so, you will remember how the two Scotch children found
in Russia were taken care of by the French soldiers and prevented as far as possible from
suffering from the horrors of the terrible Retreat. One of the soldiers, a Breton, often tried
to make them forget how cold and hungry they were by telling them tales of his native
country, Brittany, which is full of wonderful things. The best and warmest place round
the camp fire was always given to the children, but even so the bitter frost would cause
them to shiver. It was then that the Breton would begin: 'Plouhinec is a small town near
Hennebonne by the sea,' and would continue until Kenneth or Effie would interrupt him
with an eager question. Then he forgot how his mother had told him the tale, and was
obliged to begin all over again, so the story lasted a long while, and by the time it was
ended the children were ready to be rolled up in what ever coverings could be found, and
go to sleep. It is this story that I am going to tell to you.
Plouhinec is a small town near Hennebonne by the sea. Around it stretches a desolate
moor, where no corn can be grown, and the grass is so coarse that no beast grows fat on
it. Here and there are scattered groves of fir trees, and small pebbles are so thick on the
ground that you might almost take it for a beach. On the further side, the fairies, or
korigans, as the people called them, had set up long long ago two rows of huge stones;
indeed, so tall and heavy were they, that it seemed as if all the fairies in the world could
not have placed them upright.
Not far off them this great stone avenue, and on the banks of the little river Intel, there
lived a man named Marzinne and his sister Rozennik. They always had enough black
bread to eat, and wooden shoes or sabots to wear, and a pig to fatten, so the neighbours
thought them quite rich; and what was still better, they thought themselves rich also.
Rozennik was a pretty girl, who knew how to make the best of everything, and she could,
if she wished, have chosen a husband from the young men of Plouhinec, but she cared for
none of them except Bernez, whom she had played with all her life, and Bernez, though
he worked hard, was so very very poor that Marzinne told him roughly he must look
elsewhere for a wife. But whatever Marzinne might say Rozennik smiled and nodded to
him as before, and would often turn her head as she passed, and sing snatches of old
songs over her shoulder.
Christmas Eve had come, and all the men who worked under Marzinne or on the farms
round about were gathered in the large kitchen to eat the soup flavoured with honey
followed by rich puddings, to which they were always invited on this particular night. In
the middle of the table was a large wooden bowl, with wooden spoons placed in a circle
round it, so that each might dip in his turn. The benches were filled, and Marzinne was
about to give the signal, when the door was suddenly thrown open, and an old man came
in, wishing the guests a good appetite for their supper. There was a pause, and some of
the faces looked a little frightened; for the new comer was well known to them as a
beggar, who was also said to be a wizard who cast spells over the cattle, and caused the
corn to grow black, and old people to die, of what, nobody knew. Still, it was Christmas
 
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