King Alfred and the Cakes

Long, long ago, England had a king called Alfred. One winter, times were very hard, and King Alfred had to leave his palace and hide for a while. He went far away into the wet, misty marshes of Somerset, where nobody would know him.

Alfred came to a little hut where a cowherd lived with his wife. He wore an old cloak, and his boots were muddy, so he looked just like a poor traveler. “Please may I stay here for a few days?” he asked. “You may,” said the cowherd’s wife, “but you must help with the work.” Alfred thanked her, and he carried wood and fetched water from the stream.

One afternoon, the cowherd’s wife was making little cakes of bread for supper. She set them on a flat stone by the fire to bake. “I must go and milk the cows,” she told Alfred. “Sit here and watch the cakes, and turn them over when they are brown.” “I will,” said Alfred, and he sat down by the fire.

But Alfred had a lot on his mind. He was thinking about his people, and how he could make things right again. He stared into the flames, thinking and thinking, and he forgot all about the cakes. Soon a smell of smoke filled the little hut. The cakes were burning, and they turned as black as coal!

Just then, the cowherd’s wife came back with her bucket of milk. “Oh, you lazy fellow!” she cried, and she snatched the cakes off the fire. “You are happy enough to eat my cakes, but you cannot even watch them for me!” Alfred did not get angry, and he did not tell her who he was. “You are quite right, and I am very sorry,” he said. And he helped her mix a new batch of cakes, and this time he watched them very carefully.

Not long after, the hard times were over, and Alfred went home to his palace. One day, the cowherd and his wife were invited to visit the king. When the wife saw his face, she gasped and turned pink. “Oh, Your Majesty, I scolded you like a naughty boy!” she said. King Alfred only laughed. “You were right to scold me,” he said, “for I made a promise, and I did not keep it.” He thanked her for her kindness, and he gave the cowherd and his wife a fine new farm. And people still tell the story of the king who burned the cakes.