Fairytales of Famous Authors Compared to Disney Cartoons with proper respect etc

TheHorseAndHisBoySometimeWrittenin1950-1954-C.S.LewisP7

Please do not copy these chapters to any other website, this is a private book for reference to those who write and read and are unfamiliar with the stories since they may not have had access to them. I have no intentions of publishing this publicly at all if you see someone doing that they violate copyright law, you must report them immediately. This is a second edition book in which the stories were reprinted and not the exact original copy from all book set of three books containing every book in the Narnia Series in Chronological order and they made up three big book boxset and I own this set. This is just for me as a reference and private Wattpad only book so that others unfamiliar with these stories may be able to read and catch up even if they do not own the book, do not have access to a computer or wifi for that matter. C. S. Lewis was and is to this day one of my favorite authors. He served in the World Wars and when he got too old to do that he rescued four real children of which Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy are inspired from. So these characters aren't just characters they're more real than any other characters I know. And since I've put up one Christmas story it is only right I should do an even more beloved version. And the way I update this will be out of chronological order this story and the stories that follow will become huge points of cultural learning about Earth and how it works giving young Fairies a big shock in The Problems of Negativix. I will also continue my reference notes and opinions in my special () so that is not just the story,  my dear Skylights. -Lumna10.

A comparison of the Disney movie "The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe," based on C. S. Lewis book is pretty close, but when it comes to the Narnia side of the story they seem to be skipping over every other couple of days to save runtime. I will also be giving serious critique onto reviews from one of which I have already covered. Chapters 14,and 15 are contained within from this book and totals up to 20 pages, this is a story when slaves exist so brace yourselves, C. S. Lewis also avoids describing the skintone of Calormens just as he does with his main four children in the first book, because that is not an important part of the stories. Please remember this is a story you're aware this was written for kids so read it like a kid not an adult, People.-Lumna10. (It does have elements of Turkish life from Turkey, but I do not consider the Calormens to be real people period-Lumna10 out.)

Chapter 14: How Bree Became A Wiser Horse
We must now return to Aravis and the Horses. The Hermit, watching his pool, was able to tell them that Shasta was not killed or even seriously wounded, for he saw hir get up and saw how affectionately he was greeted by King Lune. But as he could only see, not hear, he did not know what anyone was saying and, once the fighting had stopped and the talking had begun, it was not worth while looking in the pool any longer.
Next morning, while the Hermit was indoors, the three of them discussed what they should do next.
"I've had enough of this," said Hwin.
"The Hermit has been very good to us and I'm very much obliged to him I'm sure. But I'm getting as fat as a pet pony, eating all day and getting no exercise. Let's go on to Narnia."
"Oh not today, Ma'am," said Bree. "I wouldn't hurry things. Some other day, don't you think?"
"We must see Shasta first and say goodbye to him - and and apologize," said Aravis.
"Exactly!" said Bree with great enthusiasm. "Just what I was going to say.
"Oh, of course," said Hwin. "I expect he is in Anvard. Naturally we'd look in on him and say goodbye. But that's on our way. And why shouldn't we start at once? After all, thought it was Narnia we all wanted to get to?"
'I suppose so," said Aravis. She was beginning to wonder what exactly she would do when she got there and was feeling a little lonely.
"Of course, of course," said Bree hastily. "But there's no need to rush things, if you know what I mean."
"No, I don't know what you mean," said Hwin. "Why don't you want to go?"
o'm-m, broo-hoo," muttered Bree. "Well, don't you see, Ma'am - it's an important occasion - returning to She's country - entering society - the best society - it is so essential to make a good impression - not perhaps looking quite ourselves, yet, eh?»
"Hwin broke out into a horse-laugh. "It's your tail, Bree! I see it all now. You want to wait till your tail's grown again! And we don't even know if tails are worn long in Narnia. Really, Bree, you're as vain as that Tarkheena in Tashbaan!"
"You are silly, Bree," said Aravis.
"By the Lion's Mane, Tarkheena, I'm nothing of the sort," said Bree indignantly. "I have a proper respect for myself and for my fellow horses, that's all.
"Bree," said Aravis, who was not very interested in the cut of his tail, "I've been wanting to ask you something for a long time. Why do you keep on swearing By the Lion and By the Lion's Mane? I thought you hated lions."
"So I do," answered Bree. "But when I speak of the Lion of course I mean Aslan, the great deliverer of Narnia who drove away the Witch and the Winter. All Narnians swear by him.
"But is he a lion?"
"No, no, of course not," said Bree in a rather shocked
"All the stories about him in Tashbaan say he is," replied Aravis. "And if he isn't a lion why do you call him a lion?"
"Well, you'd hardly understand that at your age," said Bree. "And I was only a little foal when i left so I don't quite fully understand it myself."
(Bree was standing with his back to the green wall while he said this, and the other two were facing him. He was talking in rather a superior tone with his eyes half shut; that was why he didn't see the changed expression in the faces of Hwin and Aravis. They had good reason to have open mouths and staring eyes; because while Bree spoke they saw an enormous lion leap up from outside and balance itself on the top of the green wall; only it was a brighter yellow and it was bigger and more beautiful and more alarming than any lion they had ever seen. And at once it jumped down inside the wall and began approaching Bree from behind. It made no noise at all. And Hwin and Aravis couldn't make any noise themselves, no more than if they were frozen.)
"No doubt," continued Bree, "when they speak of him as a Lion they only mean he's as strong as a lion or (to our enemies, of course) as fierce as a lion. Or something of that kind. Even a little girl like you, Aravis, must see that it would be quite absurd to suppose he is a real lion. Indeed it would be disrespectful. If he was a lion he'd have to be a Beast just like the rest of us. Why!" (and here Bree began to laugh) "If he was a lion he'd have four paws, and a tail, and Whiskers! ... Aie, ooh, hoo-hoo! Help!" For just as he said the word Whiskers one of Aslan's had actually tickled his ear. Bree shot away like an arrow to the other side of the enclosure and there turned; the wall was too high for him to jump and he could fly no farther.
Aravis and Hwin both started back. There was about a second of intense silence.
Then Hwin, though shaking all over, gave a strange little neigh, and trotted across to the Lion.
"Please," she said, "you're so beautiful. You may eat me if you like. I'd sooner be eaten by you than fed by anyone else."
"Dearest daughter," said Aslan, planting a lion's kiss on her twitching, velvet nose, "I knew you would not be long in coming to me. Joy shall be yours.
Then he lifted his head and spoke in a louder voice.
"Now, Bree," he said,
"you poor, proud frightened
Horse, draw near. Nearer still, my son. Do not dare not to dare. Touch me. Smell me. Here are my paws, here is my tail, these are my whiskers. I am a true Beast.
"Aslan," said Bree in a shaken voice, "I'm afraid I must be rather a fool. "
"Happy the Horse who knows that while he is still young. Or the Human either. Draw near, Aravis my daughter. See! My paws are velveted. You will not be torn this time."
"This time, sir?" said Aravis.
"It was I who wounded you," said Aslan. "I am the only lion you met in all your journeyings. Do you know why I tore you?"
"No, sir."
"The scratches on your back, tear for tear, throb for throb, blood for blood, were equal to the stripes laid on the back of your stepmother's slave because of the drugged sleep you cast upon her. You needed to know what it felt like.
"Yes, sir. Please––"
"Ask on, my dear," said Aslan.
"Will any more harm come to her by what I did?"
"Child," said the Lion, "I am telling you your story, not hers. No one is told any story but their own." Then he shook his head and spoke in a lighter voice.
"Be merry, little ones," he said. "We shall meet soon again. But before that you will have another visitor." Then in one bound he reached the top of the wall and vanished from their sight.
Strange to say, they felt no inclination to talk to one another about him after he had gone. They all moved slowly away to different parts of the quiet grass and there paced to and fro, each alone, thinking.