by Roald Dahl When little Snow-White’s mother died The King, her father, up and cried “Oh, what a nuisance! What a life! Now I must find another wife.” (It’s never easy for a King To find himself that sort of thing.) He wrote to every magazine And said, “I’m looking for a Queen.” At least ten thousand girls replied And begged to be the royal bride The king said with a shifty smile “I’d like to give each one a trial.” However, in the end he chose A lady called Miss Maclahose Who brought along a curious toy That seemed to give her endless joy. This was a mirror framed in brass A MAGIC TALKING LOOKING GLASS Ask it something day or night It always got the answer right For instance, if you were to say “Oh Mirror, what’s for lunch today?” The thing would answer in a trice “Today it’s scrambled eggs and rice.” Now every day, week in week out The spoiled and stupid Queen would shout “Oh Mirror Mirror on the wall Who is the fairest of them all?” The Mirror answered every time “Oh Madam, you’re the Queen sublime You are the only one to charm us Queen, you are the cat’s pyjamas.” For ten whole years the silly Queen Repeated this absurd routine Then suddenly, one awful day She heard the Magic Mirror say “From now on Queen, you’re number two Snow-White is prettier than you.” The Queen went absolutely wild She yelled, “I’m going to scrag that child.” “I’ll cook her flaming goose, I’ll skin her I’ll have her rotten guts for dinner.” She called the Huntsman to her study She shouted at him, “Listen, buddy, You drag that filthy girl outside And see you take her for a ride Thereafter slit her ribs apart And bring me back her bleeding heart.” The Huntsman dragged the lovely child Deep deep into the forest wild Fearing the worst, poor Snow-White spake She cried, “Oh please give me a break.” The knife was poised, the arm was strong She cried again, “I’ve done no wrong.” The Huntsman’s heart began to flutter It melted like a pound of butter. He murmured, “Okay, beat it, kid.” And you can bet your life she did Later, the Huntsman made a stop Within the local butcher’s shop And there he bought, for safety’s sake A bullocks heart and one nice steak “Oh Majesty! Oh Queen,” he cried “That rotten little girl has died. And just to prove I didn’t cheat I’ve brought along these bits of meat.” The Queen cried out, “Bravissimo I trust you killed her nice and slow.” Then (this is the disgusting part) The Queen sat down and ate the heart (I only hope she cooked it well Boiled heart can be as tough as hell) While all this was going on Oh where, oh where had Snow-White gone? She’d found it easy, being pretty To hitch a ride into the city And there she’d got a job, unpaid As general cook and parlour-maid With seven funny little men Each one not more than three foot ten Ex horse-race jockeys, all of them These seven dwarfs, though awfully nice Were guilty of one shocking vice They squandered all of their resources At the race-track backing horses (When they hadn’t backed a winner None of them got any dinner) One evening, Snow-White said, “Look here, I think I’ve got a great idea Just leave it all to me, okay, And no more gambling till I say.” That very night, at eventide Young Snow-White hitched another ride And then, when it was very late She slipped in through the Palace gate The King was in his counting house Counting out his money The Queen was in the parlour Eating bread and honey The footmen and the servants slept So no one saw her as she crept On tip-toe through the mighty hall And grabbed THE MIRROR off the wall As soon as she had got it home She told the Senior Dwarf (or Gnome) To ask it what he wished to know “Go on,” she shouted, “Have a go.” He said, “Oh Mirror, please don’t joke Each of us is stony broke Which horse will win tomorrow’s race, The Ascot Gold Cup Steeple-chase?” The Mirror whispered sweet and low “The horse’s name is Mistletoe.” The Dwarfs went absolutely daft They kissed young Snow-White fore and aft Then rushed away to raise some dough With which to back old Mistletoe They pawned their watches, sold the car They borrowed money near and far (For much of it they had to thank The Manager of Barclays Bank) They went to Ascot and of course For once they backed the winning horse Thereafter, every single day The Mirror made the bookies pay Each Dwarf and Snow-White got a share And each was soon a millionaire Which shows that gambling’s not a sin Provided that you always win.
The end