Granny's Wonderful Chair - Sleep Story

Taesha Glasgow (0:09)

I'm Taesha, your host.

Every week, I will read you an old story to help you relax about the stressful day behind you and drift off to sleep.

Occasionally, we will run ads in order to cover the costs of the production of the podcast. Rest assured, there will be no ads during or after the story.

If you prefer an ad-free and intro-free show, you can join Just Sleep Premium.

Visit justsleeppodcast.com For more information.

A quick hello and thank you. To the new members. Of Just Sleep Premium. Elizabeth B. Tracy G. Christina G. Therapy. Paul B. Heidi H. David C. Jennifer Oh. This is the show, Pamela S. Myrica S. And thank you, Carolyn, for your donation.

You're a big part of why this show keeps going. If you'd like to join them, you'll get the show ad-free and exclusive episodes like the entire Wizard of Oz. And you get seven days free to check it out.

Visit justsleeppodcast.com/support to sign up now.

Tonight, I will be reading a fairy tale from the book Granny's Wonderful Chair by Frances Browne.

So lie down, close your eyes, and let me read you a story.

Introduction.

In an old time, long ago, when the fairies were in the world, there lived a little girl so uncommonly fair and pleasant of look that they called her Snowflour. This girl was good as well as pretty. No one had ever seen her frown or heard her say a cross word, and young and old were glad when they saw her coming.

Snowflour had no relation in the world, but a very old grandmother called Dame Frosty Face. People did not like her quite so well as her granddaughter, for she was cross enough at times, but always kind to Snowflour. And they lived together in a little cottage built of peat and thatched with reeds on the edge of a great forest. Tall trees sheltered its back from the north wind, the midday sun made its front warm and cheerful, swallows built in the eaves, daisies grew thick at the door. But there were none in all that country poorer than Snowflower and her grandmother. A cat and two hens were all their livestock. Their bed was dry grass, and the only good piece of furniture in the cottage was a great armchair with wheels on its feet, a black velvet cushion, and some curious carvings of flowers and fawns on its dark, open back.

On that chair, Dame Frostyface sat spinning from morning till night to maintain herself and her granddaughter, while Snowflower gothied sticks for firing, looked after the hens and the cat, and did whatever else her grandmother bade her.

There was nobody in the shire could spin such fine yarn as Dame Frostyface, but she spun very slowly. Her wheel was as old as herself and far the more worn. Indeed, the wonder was that it did not fall to pieces. So the dame's earnings were small and their living meager. Snowflower, however, felt no want of good dinners or fine clothes.

Every evening when the fire was heaped with the sticks she had gathered till it blazed and crackled up the cottage chimney, Dame Frostyface set aside her wheel and told her a new story. Often did the little girl wonder where her grandmother had gathered so many stories, but she soon learned that. One sunny morning at the time of the swallows coming, the dame rose up, put on the gray hood and mantle in which she carried her yarn to the fairs, and said, My child, I'm going a long journey to visit an aunt of mine who lives far in the North Country. I cannot take you with me because my aunt is the crossest woman alive and never liked young people. But the hens will lay eggs for you. There's barley meal in the barrel, and as you've been a good girl, I'll tell you what to do when you feel lonely. Lay your head gently down on the cushion of the armchair and say, Chair of my grandmother, tell me a story. It was made by a cunning fairy who lived in the forest when I was young, and she gave it to me because she knew nobody could keep what they got hold of better. Remember, you must never ask a story more than once in the day, and if there be any occasion to travel, you have only to seat yourself in it and say, Chair of my grandmother, take me such a way. It will carry you wherever you wish, but mind to oil the wheels before you set out, for I have sat on it these forty years in that same corner.

Having said this, Dame Frostyface set forth to see her aunt in the North Country. Snowflower gathered firing and looked after the hens and cat as usual. She baked herself a cake or two of the barley meal, but when the evening fell, the cottage looked lonely. Then Snowflower remembered her grandmother's words, and lying her head gently down, she said, Chair of my grandmother, tell me a story.