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+The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Crimson Fairy Book, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
+www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
+will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
+using this eBook.
+
+Title: The Crimson Fairy Book
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Andrew Lang
+
+Release Date: December, 2000 [eBook #2435]
+[Most recently updated: March 4, 2023]
+
+Language: English
+
+Produced by: J.C. Byers and David Widger
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRIMSON FAIRY BOOK ***
+
+
+
+
+THE CRIMSON FAIRY BOOK
+
+By Various
+
+Edited by Andrew Lang
+
+
+
+
+Preface
+
+
+Each Fairy Book demands a preface from the Editor, and these
+introductions are inevitably both monotonous and unavailing. A sense of
+literary honesty compels the Editor to keep repeating that he is the
+Editor, and not the author of the Fairy Tales, just as a distinguished
+man of science is only the Editor, not the Author of Nature. Like
+nature, popular tales are too vast to be the creation of a single
+modern mind. The Editor’s business is to hunt for collections of these
+stories told by peasant or savage grandmothers in many climes, from New
+Caledonia to Zululand; from the frozen snows of the Polar regions to
+Greece, or Spain, or Italy, or far Lochaber. When the tales are found
+they are adapted to the needs of British children by various hands, the
+Editor doing little beyond guarding the interests of propriety, and
+toning down to mild reproofs the tortures inflicted on wicked
+stepmothers, and other naughty characters.
+
+These explanations have frequently been offered already; but, as far as
+ladies and children are concerned, to no purpose. They still ask the
+Editor how he can invent so many stories—more than Shakespeare, Dumas,
+and Charles Dickens could have invented in a century. And the Editor
+still avers, in Prefaces, that he did not invent one of the stories;
+that nobody knows, as a rule, who invented them, or where, or when. It
+is only plain that, perhaps a hundred thousand years ago, some savage
+grandmother told a tale to a savage granddaughter; that the
+granddaughter told it in her turn; that various tellers made changes to
+suit their taste, adding or omitting features and incidents; that, as
+the world grew civilised, other alterations were made, and that, at
+last, Homer composed the “Odyssey,” and somebody else composed the
+Story of Jason and the Fleece of Gold, and the enchantress Medea, out
+of a set of wandering popular tales, which are still told among
+Samoyeds and Samoans, Hindoos and Japanese.
+
+All this has been known to the wise and learned for centuries, and
+especially since the brothers Grimm wrote in the early years of the
+Nineteenth Century. But children remain unaware of the facts, and so do
+their dear mothers; whence the Editor infers that they do not read his
+prefaces, and are not members of the Folk Lore Society, or students of
+Herr Kohler and M. Cosquin, and M. Henri Guidoz and Professor Child,
+and Mr. Max Muller. Though these explanations are not attended to by
+the Editor’s customers, he makes them once more, for the relief of his
+conscience. Many tales in this book are translated, or adapted, from
+those told by mothers and nurses in Hungary; others are familiar to
+Russian nurseries; the Servians are responsible for some; a rather
+peculiarly fanciful set of stories are adapted from the Roumanians;
+others are from the Baltic shores; others from sunny Sicily; a few are
+from Finland, and Iceland, and Japan, and Tunis, and Portugal. No doubt
+many children will like to look out these places on the map, and study
+their mountains, rivers, soil, products, and fiscal policies, in the
+geography books. The peoples who tell the stories differ in colour;
+language, religion, and almost everything else; but they all love a
+nursery tale. The stories have mainly been adapted or translated by
+Mrs. Lang, a few by Miss Lang and Miss Blackley.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+ Preface
+ Lovely Ilonka
+ Lucky Luck
+ The Hairy Man
+ To Your Good Health!
+ The Story of the Seven Simons
+ The Language of Beasts
+ The Boy Who Could Keep A Secret
+ The Prince And The Dragon
+ Little Wildrose
+ Tiidu The Piper
+ Paperarelloo
+ The Gifts Of The Magician
+ The Strong Prince
+ The Treasure Seeker
+ The Cottager And His Cat
+ The Prince Who Would Seek Immortality
+ The Stone-Cutter
+ The Gold-Bearded Man
+ Tritill, Litill, And The Birds
+ The Three Robes
+ The Six Hungry Beasts
+ How The Beggar Boy Turned Into Count Piro
+ The Rogue And The Herdsman
+ Eisenkopf
+ The Death Of Abu Nowas And Of His Wife
+ Motiratika
+ Niels And The Giants
+ Shepherd Paul
+ How The Wicked Tanuki Was Punished
+ The Crab And The Monkey
+ The Horse Gullfaxi And The Sword Gunnfoder
+ The Story Of The Sham Prince, Or The Ambitious Tailor
+ The Colony Of Cats
+ How To Find Out A True Friend
+ Clever Maria
+ The Magic Kettle
+
+
+
+
+Lovely Ilonka
+
+
+There was once a king’s son who told his father that he wished to
+marry.
+
+“No, no!” said the king; “you must not be in such a hurry. Wait till
+you have done some great deed. My father did not let me marry till I
+had won the golden sword you see me wear.”
+
+The prince was much disappointed, but he never dreamed of disobeying
+his father, and he began to think with all his might what he could do.
+It was no use staying at home, so one day he wandered out into the
+world to try his luck, and as he walked along he came to a little hut
+in which he found an old woman crouching over the fire.
+
+“Good evening, mother. I see you have lived long in this world; do you
+know anything about the three bulrushes?”
+
+“Yes, indeed, I’ve lived long and been much about in the world, but I
+have never seen or heard anything of what you ask. Still, if you will
+wait till to-morrow I may be able to tell you something.”
+
+Well, he waited till the morning, and quite early the old woman
+appeared and took out a little pipe and blew in it, and in a moment all
+the crows in the world were flying about her. Not one was missing. Then
+she asked if they knew anything about the three bulrushes, but not one
+of them did.
+
+The prince went on his way, and a little further on he found another
+hut in which lived an old man. On being questioned the old man said he
+knew nothing, but begged the prince to stay overnight, and the next
+morning the old man called all the ravens together, but they too had
+nothing to tell.
+
+The prince bade him farewell and set out. He wandered so far that he
+crossed seven kingdoms, and at last, one evening, he came to a little
+house in which was an old woman.
+
+“Good evening, dear mother,” said he politely.
+
+“Good evening to you, my dear son,” answered the old woman. “It is
+lucky for you that you spoke to me or you would have met with a
+horrible death. But may I ask where are you going?”
+
+“I am seeking the three bulrushes. Do you know anything about them?”
+
+“I don’t know anything myself, but wait till to-morrow. Perhaps I can
+tell you then.” So the next morning she blew on her pipe, and lo! and
+behold every magpie in the world flew up. That is to say, all the
+magpies except one who had broken a leg and a wing. The old woman sent
+after it at once, and when she questioned the magpies the crippled one
+was the only one who knew where the three bulrushes were.
+
+Then the prince started off with the lame magpie. They went on and on
+till they reached a great stone wall, many, many feet high.
+
+“Now, prince,” said the magpie, “the three bulrushes are behind that
+wall.”
+
+The prince wasted no time. He set his horse at the wall and leaped over
+it. Then he looked about for the three bulrushes, pulled them up and
+set off with them on his way home. As he rode along one of the
+bulrushes happened to knock against something. It split open and, only
+think! out sprang a lovely girl, who said: “My heart’s love, you are
+mine and I am yours; do give me a glass of water.”
+
+But how could the prince give it her when there was no water at hand?
+So the lovely maiden flew away. He split the second bulrush as an
+experiment and just the same thing happened.
+
+How careful he was of the third bulrush! He waited till he came to a
+well, and there he split it open, and out sprang a maiden seven times
+lovelier than either of the others, and she too said: “My heart’s love,
+I am yours and you are mine; do give me a glass of water.”
+
+This time the water was ready and the girl did not fly away, but she
+and the prince promised to love each other always. Then they set out
+for home.
+
+They soon reached the prince’s country, and as he wished to bring his
+promised bride back in a fine coach he went on to the town to fetch
+one. In the field where the well was, the king’s swineherds and
+cowherds were feeding their droves, and the prince left Ilonka (for
+that was her name) in their care.
+
+Unluckily the chief swineherd had an ugly old daughter, and whilst the
+prince was away he dressed her up in fine clothes, and threw Ilonka
+into the well.
+
+The prince returned before long, bringing with him his father and
+mother and a great train of courtiers to escort Ilonka home. But how
+they all stared when they saw the swineherd’s ugly daughter! However,
+there was nothing for it but to take her home; and, two days later, the
+prince married her, and his father gave up the crown to him.
+
+But he had no peace! He knew very well he had been cheated, though he
+could not think how. Once he desired to have some water brought him
+from the well into which Ilonka had been thrown. The coachman went for
+it and, in the bucket he pulled up, a pretty little duck was swimming.
+He looked wonderingly at it, and all of a sudden it disappeared and he
+found a dirty looking girl standing near him. The girl returned with
+him and managed to get a place as housemaid in the palace.
+
+Of course she was very busy all day long, but whenever she had a little
+spare time she sat down to spin. Her distaff turned of itself and her
+spindle span by itself and the flax wound itself off; and however much
+she might use there was always plenty left.
+
+When the queen—or, rather, the swineherd’s daughter—heard of this, she
+very much wished to have the distaff, but the girl flatly refused to
+give it to her. However, at last she consented on condition that she
+might sleep one night in the king’s room. The queen was very angry, and
+scolded her well; but as she longed to have the distaff she consented,
+though she gave the king a sleeping draught at supper.
+
+Then the girl went to the king’s room looking seven times lovelier than
+ever. She bent over the sleeper and said: “My heart’s love, I am yours
+and you are mine. Speak to me but once; I am your Ilonka.” But the king
+was so sound asleep he neither heard nor spoke, and Ilonka left the
+room, sadly thinking he was ashamed to own her.
+
+Soon after the queen again sent to say that she wanted to buy the
+spindle. The girl agreed to let her have it on the same conditions as
+before; but this time, also, the queen took care to give the king a
+sleeping draught. And once more Ilonka went to the king’s room and
+spoke to him; whisper as sweetly as she might she could get no answer.
+
+Now some of the king’s servants had taken note of the matter, and
+warned their master not to eat and drink anything that the queen
+offered him, as for two nights running she had given him a sleeping
+draught. The queen had no idea that her doings had been discovered; and
+when, a few days later, she wanted the flax, and had to pay the same
+price for it, she felt no fears at all.
+
+At supper that night the queen offered the king all sorts of nice
+things to eat and drink, but he declared he was not hungry, and went
+early to bed.
+
+The queen repented bitterly her promise to the girl, but it was too
+late to recall it; for Ilonka had already entered the king’s room,
+where he lay anxiously waiting for something, he knew not what. All of
+a sudden he saw a lovely maiden who bent over him and said: “My dearest
+love, I am yours and you are mine. Speak to me, for I am your Ilonka.”
+
+At these words the king’s heart bounded within him. He sprang up and
+embraced and kissed her, and she told him all her adventures since the
+moment he had left her. And when he heard all that Ilonka had suffered,
+and how he had been deceived, he vowed he would be revenged; so he gave
+orders that the swineherd, his wife and daughter should all be hanged;
+and so they were.
+
+The next day the king was married, with great rejoicings, to the fair
+Ilonka; and if they are not yet dead—why, they are still living.
+
+[From Ungarische Mährchen.]
+
+
+
+
+Lucky Luck
+
+
+Once upon a time there was a king who had an only son. When the lad was
+about eighteen years old his father had to go to fight in a war against
+a neighbouring country, and the king led his troops in person. He bade
+his son act as Regent in his absence, but ordered him on no account to
+marry till his return.
+
+Time went by. The prince ruled the country and never even thought of
+marrying. But when he reached his twenty-fifth birthday he began to
+think that it might be rather nice to have a wife, and he thought so
+much that at last he got quite eager about it. He remembered, however,
+what his father had said, and waited some time longer, till at last it
+was ten years since the king went out to war. Then the prince called
+his courtiers about him and set off with a great retinue to seek a
+bride. He hardly knew which way to go, so he wandered about for twenty
+days, when, suddenly, he found himself in his father’s camp.
+
+The king was delighted to see his son, and had a great many questions
+to ask and answer; but when he heard that instead of quietly waiting
+for him at home the prince was starting off to seek a wife he was very
+angry, and said: “You may go where you please but I will not leave any
+of my people with you.”
+
+Only one faithful servant stayed with the prince and refused to part
+from him. They journeyed over hill and dale till they came to a place
+called Goldtown. The King of Goldtown had a lovely daughter, and the
+prince, who soon heard about her beauty, could not rest till he saw
+her.
+
+He was very kindly received, for he was extremely good-looking and had
+charming manners, so he lost no time in asking for her hand and her
+parents gave her to him with joy. The wedding took place at once, and
+the feasting and rejoicings went on for a whole month. At the end of
+the month they set off for home, but as the journey was a long one they
+spent the first evening at an inn. Everyone in the house slept, and
+only the faithful servant kept watch. About midnight he heard three
+crows, who had flown to the roof, talking together.
+
+“That’s a handsome couple which arrived here tonight. It seems quite a
+pity they should lose their lives so soon.”
+
+“Truly,” said the second crow; “for to-morrow, when midday strikes, the
+bridge over the Gold Stream will break just as they are driving over
+it. But, listen! whoever overhears and tells what we have said will be
+turned to stone up to his knees.”
+
+The crows had hardly done speaking when away they flew. And close upon
+them followed three pigeons.
+
+“Even if the prince and princess get safe over the bridge they will
+perish,” said they; “for the king is going to send a carriage to meet
+them which looks as new as paint. But when they are seated in it a
+raging wind will rise and whirl the carriage away into the clouds. Then
+it will fall suddenly to earth, and they will be killed. But anyone who
+hears and betrays what we have said will be turned to stone up to his
+waist.”
+
+With that the pigeons flew off and three eagles took their places, and
+this is what they said:
+
+“If the young couple does manage to escape the dangers of the bridge
+and the carriage, the king means to send them each a splendid gold
+embroidered robe. When they put these on they will be burnt up at once.
+But whoever hears and repeats this will turn to stone from head to
+foot.”
+
+Early next morning the travellers got up and breakfasted. They began to
+tell each other their dreams. At last the servant said:
+
+“Gracious prince, I dreamt that if your Royal Highness would grant all
+I asked we should get home safe and sound; but if you did not we should
+certainly be lost. My dreams never deceive me, so I entreat you to
+follow my advice during the rest of the journey.”
+
+“Don’t make such a fuss about a dream,” said the prince; “dreams are
+but clouds. Still, to prevent your being anxious I will promise to do
+as you wish.”
+
+With that they set out on their journey.
+
+At midday they reached the Gold Stream. When they got to the bridge the
+servant said: “Let us leave the carriage here, my prince, and walk a
+little way. The town is not far off and we can easily get another
+carriage there, for the wheels of this one are bad and will not hold
+out much longer.”
+
+The prince looked well at the carriage. He did not think it looked so
+unsafe as his servant said; but he had given his word and he held to
+it.
+
+They got down and loaded the horses with the luggage. The prince and
+his bride walked over the bridge, but the servant said he would ride
+the horses through the stream so as to water and bathe them.
+
+They reached the other side without harm, and bought a new carriage in
+the town, which was quite near, and set off once more on their travels;
+but they had not gone far when they met a messenger from the king who
+said to the prince: “His Majesty has sent your Royal Highness this
+beautiful carriage so that you may make a fitting entry into your own
+country and amongst your own people.”
+
+The prince was so delighted that he could not speak. But the servant
+said: “My lord, let me examine this carriage first and then you can get
+in if I find it is all right; otherwise we had better stay in our own.”
+
+The prince made no objections, and after looking the carriage well over
+the servant said: “It is as bad as it is smart”; and with that he
+knocked it all to pieces, and they went on in the one that they had
+bought.
+
+At last they reached the frontier; there another messenger was waiting
+for them, who said that the king had sent two splendid robes for the
+prince and his bride, and begged that they would wear them for their
+state entry. But the servant implored the prince to have nothing to do
+with them, and never gave him any peace till he had obtained leave to
+destroy the robes.
+
+The old king was furious when he found that all his arts had failed;
+that his son still lived and that he would have to give up the crown to
+him now he was married, for that was the law of the land. He longed to
+know how the prince had escaped, and said: “My dear son, I do indeed
+rejoice to have you safely back, but I cannot imagine why the beautiful
+carriage and the splendid robes I sent did not please you; why you had
+them destroyed.”
+
+“Indeed, sire,” said the prince, “I was myself much annoyed at their
+destruction; but my servant had begged to direct everything on the
+journey and I had promised him that he should do so. He declared that
+we could not possibly get home safely unless I did as he told me.”
+
+The old king fell into a tremendous rage. He called his Council
+together and condemned the servant to death.
+
+The gallows was put up in the square in front of the palace. The
+servant was led out and his sentence read to him.
+
+The rope was being placed round his neck, when he begged to be allowed
+a few last words. “On our journey home,” he said, “we spent the first
+night at an inn. I did not sleep but kept watch all night.” And then he
+went on to tell what the crows had said, and as he spoke he turned to
+stone up to his knees. The prince called to him to say no more as he
+had proved his innocence. But the servant paid no heed to him, and by
+the time his story was done he had turned to stone from head to foot.
+
+Oh! how grieved the prince was to lose his faithful servant! And what
+pained him most was the thought that he was lost through his very
+faithfulness, and he determined to travel all over the world and never
+rest till he found some means of restoring him to life.
+
+Now there lived at Court an old woman who had been the prince’s nurse.
+To her he confided all his plans, and left his wife, the princess, in
+her care. “You have a long way before you, my son,” said the old woman;
+“you must never return till you have met with Lucky Luck. If he cannot
+help you no one on earth can.”
+
+So the prince set off to try to find Lucky Luck. He walked and walked
+till he got beyond his own country, and he wandered through a wood for
+three days but did not meet a living being in it. At the end of the
+third day he came to a river near which stood a large mill. Here he
+spent the night. When he was leaving next morning the miller asked him:
+“My gracious lord, where are you going all alone?”
+
+And the prince told him.
+
+“Then I beg your Highness to ask Lucky Luck this question: Why is it
+that though I have an excellent mill, with all its machinery complete,
+and get plenty of grain to grind, I am so poor that I hardly know how
+to live from one day to another?”
+
+The prince promised to inquire, and went on his way. He wandered about
+for three days more, and at the end of the third day saw a little town.
+It was quite late when he reached it, but he could discover no light
+anywhere, and walked almost right through it without finding a house
+where he could turn in. But far away at the end of the town he saw a
+light in a window. He went straight to it and in the house were three
+girls playing a game together. The prince asked for a night’s lodging
+and they took him in, gave him some supper and got a room ready for
+him, where he slept.
+
+Next morning when he was leaving they asked where he was going and he
+told them his story. “Gracious prince,” said the maidens, “do ask Lucky
+Luck how it happens that here we are over thirty years old and no lover
+has come to woo us, though we are good, pretty, and very industrious.”
+
+The prince promised to inquire, and went on his way.
+
+Then he came to a great forest and wandered about in it from morning to
+night and from night to morning before he got near the other end. Here
+he found a pretty stream which was different from other streams as,
+instead of flowing, it stood still and began to talk: “Sir prince, tell
+me what brings you into these wilds? I must have been flowing here a
+hundred years and more and no one has ever yet come by.”
+
+“I will tell you,” answered the prince, “if you will divide yourself so
+that I may walk through.”
+
+The stream parted at once, and the prince walked through without
+wetting his feet; and directly he got to the other side he told his
+story as he had promised.
+
+“Oh, do ask Lucky Luck,” cried the brook, “why, though I am such a
+clear, bright, rapid stream I never have a fish or any other living
+creature in my waters.”
+
+The prince said he would do so, and continued his journey.
+
+When he got quite clear of the forest he walked on through a lovely
+valley till he reached a little house thatched with rushes, and he went
+in to rest for he was very tired.
+
+Everything in the house was beautifully clean and tidy, and a cheerful
+honest-looking old woman was sitting by the fire.
+
+“Good-morning, mother,” said the prince.
+
+“May Luck be with you, my son. What brings you into these parts?”
+
+“I am looking for Lucky Luck,” replied the prince.
+
+“Then you have come to the right place, my son, for I am his mother. He
+is not at home just now, he is out digging in the vineyard. Do you go
+too. Here are two spades. When you find him begin to dig, but don’t
+speak a word to him. It is now eleven o’clock. When he sits down to eat
+his dinner sit beside him and eat with him. After dinner he will
+question you, and then tell him all your troubles freely. He will
+answer whatever you may ask.”
+
+With that she showed him the way, and the prince went and did just as
+she had told him. After dinner they lay down to rest.
+
+All of a sudden Lucky Luck began to speak and said: “Tell me, what sort
+of man are you, for since you came here you have not spoken a word?”
+
+“I am not dumb,” replied the young man, “but I am that unhappy prince
+whose faithful servant has been turned to stone, and I want to know how
+to help him.”
+
+“And you do well, for he deserves everything. Go back, and when you get
+home your wife will just have had a little boy. Take three drops of
+blood from the child’s little finger, rub them on your servant’s wrists
+with a blade of grass and he will return to life.”
+
+“I have another thing to ask,” said the prince, when he had thanked
+him. “In the forest near here is a fine stream but not a fish or other
+living creature in it. Why is this?”
+
+“Because no one has ever been drowned in the stream. But take care, in
+crossing, to get as near the other side as you can before you say so,
+or you may be the first victim yourself.”
+
+“Another question, please, before I go. On my way here I lodged one
+night in the house of three maidens. All were well-mannered,
+hard-working, and pretty, and yet none has had a wooer. Why was this?”
+
+“Because they always throw out their sweepings in the face of the sun.”
+
+“And why is it that a miller, who has a large mill with all the best
+machinery and gets plenty of corn to grind is so poor that he can
+hardly live from day to day?”
+
+“Because the miller keeps everything for himself, and does not give to
+those who need it.”
+
+The prince wrote down the answers to his questions, took a friendly
+leave of Lucky Luck, and set off for home.
+
+When he reached the stream it asked if he brought it any good news.
+“When I get across I will tell you,” said he. So the stream parted; he
+walked through and on to the highest part of the bank. He stopped and
+shouted out:
+
+“Listen, oh stream! Lucky Luck says you will never have any living
+creature in your waters until someone is drowned in you.”
+
+The words were hardly out of his mouth when the stream swelled and
+overflowed till it reached the rock up which he had climbed, and dashed
+so far up it that the spray flew over him. But he clung on tight, and
+after failing to reach him three times the stream returned to its
+proper course. Then the prince climbed down, dried himself in the sun,
+and set out on his march home.
+
+He spent the night once more at the mill and gave the miller his
+answer, and by-and-by he told the three sisters not to throw out all
+their sweepings in the face of the sun.
+
+The prince had hardly arrived at home when some thieves tried to ford
+the stream with a fine horse they had stolen. When they were half-way
+across, the stream rose so suddenly that it swept them all away. From
+that time it became the best fishing stream in the country-side.
+
+The miller, too, began to give alms and became a very good man, and in
+time grew so rich that he hardly knew how much he had.
+
+And the three sisters, now that they no longer insulted the sun, had
+each a wooer within a week.
+
+When the prince got home he found that his wife had just got a fine
+little boy. He did not lose a moment in pricking the baby’s finger till
+the blood ran, and he brushed it on the wrists of the stone figure,
+which shuddered all over and split with a loud noise in seven parts and
+there was the faithful servant alive and well.
+
+When the old king saw this he foamed with rage, stared wildly about,
+flung himself on the ground and died.
+
+The servant stayed on with his royal master and served him faithfully
+all the rest of his life; and, if neither of them is dead, he is
+serving him still.
+
+[From Ungarische Mährchen.]
+
+
+
+
+The Hairy Man
+
+
+Somewhere or other, but I don’t know where, there lived a king who
+owned two remarkably fine fields of rape, but every night two of the
+rape heaps were burnt down in one of the fields. The king was extremely
+angry at this, and sent out soldiers to catch whoever had set fire to
+the ricks; but it was all of no use—not a soul could they see. Then he
+offered nine hundred crowns to anyone who caught the evil-doer, and at
+the same time ordered that whoever did not keep proper watch over the
+fields should be killed; but though there were a great many people,
+none seemed able to protect the fields.
+
+The king had already put ninety-nine people to death, when a little
+swineherd came to him who had two dogs; one was called “Psst,” and the
+other “Hush”; and the boy told the king that he would watch over the
+ricks.
+
+When it grew dark he climbed up on the top of the fourth rick, from
+where he could see the whole field. About eleven o’clock he thought he
+saw someone going to a rick and putting a light to it. “Just you wait,”
+thought he, and called out to his dogs: “Hi! Psst, Hush, catch him!”
+But Psst and Hush had not waited for orders, and in five minutes the
+man was caught.
+
+Next morning he was brought bound before the king, who was so pleased
+with the boy that he gave him a thousand crowns at once. The prisoner
+was all covered with hair, almost like an animal; and altogether he was
+so curious to look at that the king locked him up in a strong room and
+sent out letters of invitation to all the other kings and princes
+asking them to come and see this wonder.
+
+That was all very well; but the king had a little boy of ten years old
+who went to look at the hairy man also, and the man begged so hard to
+be set free that the boy took pity on him. He stole the key of the
+strong room from his mother and opened the door. Then he took the key
+back, but the hairy man escaped and went off into the world.
+
+Then the kings and princes began to arrive one after another, and all
+were most anxious to see the hairy man; but he was gone! The king
+nearly burst with rage and with the shame he felt. He questioned his
+wife sharply, and told her that if she could not find and bring back
+the hairy man he would put her in a hut made of rushes and burn her
+there. The queen declared she had had nothing to do with the matter; if
+her son had happened to take the key it had not been with her
+knowledge.
+
+So they fetched the little prince and asked him all sorts of questions,
+and at last he owned that he had let the hairy man out. The king
+ordered his servants to take the boy into the forest and to kill him
+there, and to bring back part of his liver and lungs.
+
+There was grief all over the palace when the king’s command was known,
+for he was a great favourite. But there was no help for it, and they
+took the boy out into the forest. But the man was sorry for him, and
+shot a dog and carried pieces of his lungs and liver to the king, who
+was satisfied, and did not trouble himself any more.
+
+The prince wandered about in the forest and lived as best he could for
+five years. One day he came upon a poor little cottage in which was an
+old man. They began to talk, and the prince told his story and sad
+fate. Then they recognised each other, for the old fellow was no other
+than the hairy man whom the prince had set free, and who had lived ever
+since in the forest.
+
+The prince stayed here for two years; then he wished to go further. The
+old man begged him hard to stay, but he would not, so his hairy friend
+gave him a golden apple out of which came a horse with a golden mane,
+and a golden staff with which to guide the horse. The old man also gave
+him a silver apple out of which came the most beautiful hussars and a
+silver staff; and a copper apple from which he could draw as many foot
+soldiers as ever he wished, and a copper staff. He made the prince
+swear solemnly to take the greatest care of these presents, and then he
+let him go.
+
+The boy wandered on and on till he came to a large town. Here he took
+service in the king’s palace, and as no one troubled themselves about
+him he lived quietly on.
+
+One day news was brought to the king that he must go out to war. He was
+horribly frightened for he had a very small army, but he had to go all
+the same.
+
+When they had all left, the prince said to the housekeeper:
+
+“Give me leave to go to the next village—I owe a small bill there, and
+I want to go and pay it”; and as there was nothing to be done in the
+palace the housekeeper gave him leave.
+
+When he got beyond the town he took out his golden apple, and when the
+horse sprang out he swung himself into the saddle. Then he took the
+silver and the copper apples, and with all these fine soldiers he
+joined the king’s army.
+
+The king saw them approach with fear in his heart, for he did not know
+if it might not be an enemy; but the prince rode up, and bowed low
+before him. “I bring your Majesty reinforcements,” said he.
+
+The king was delighted, and all dread of his enemy at once disappeared.
+The princesses were there too, and they were very friendly with the
+prince and begged him to get into their carriage so as to talk to them.
+But he declined, and remained on horseback, as he did not know at what
+moment the battle might begin; and whilst they were all talking
+together the youngest princess, who was also the loveliest, took off
+her ring, and her sister tore her handkerchief in two pieces, and they
+gave these gifts to the prince.
+
+Suddenly the enemy came in sight. The king asked whether his army or
+the prince’s should lead the way; but the prince set off first and with
+his hussars he fought so bravely that only two of the enemy were left
+alive, and these two were only spared to act as messengers.
+
+The king was overjoyed and so were his daughters at this brilliant
+victory. As they drove home they begged the prince to join them, but he
+would not come, and galloped off with his hussars.
+
+When he got near the town he packed his soldiers and his fine horse all
+carefully into the apple again, and then strolled into the town. On his
+return to the palace he was well scolded by the housekeeper for staying
+away so long.
+
+Well, the whole matter might have ended there; but it so happened that
+the younger princess had fallen in love with the prince, as he had with
+her. And as he had no jewels with him, he gave her the copper apple and
+staff.
+
+One day, as the princesses were talking with their father, the younger
+one asked him whether it might not have been their servant who had
+helped him so much. The king was quite angry at the idea; but, to
+satisfy her, he ordered the servant’s room to be searched. And there,
+to everyone’s surprise, they found the golden ring and the half of the
+handkerchief. When these were brought to the king he sent for the
+prince at once and asked if it had been he who had come to their
+rescue.
+
+“Yes, your Majesty, it was I,” answered the prince.
+
+“But where did you get your army?”
+
+“If you wish to see it, I can show it you outside the city walls.”
+
+And so he did; but first he asked for the copper apple from the younger
+princess, and when all the soldiers were drawn up there were such
+numbers that there was barely room for them.
+
+The king gave him his daughter and kingdom as a reward for his aid, and
+when he heard that the prince was himself a king’s son his joy knew no
+bounds. The prince packed all his soldiers carefully up once more, and
+they went back into the town.
+
+Not long after there was a grand wedding; perhaps they may all be alive
+still, but I don’t know.
+
+
+
+
+To Your Good Health!
+
+
+Long, long ago there lived a king who was such a mighty monarch that
+whenever he sneezed every one in the whole country had to say “To your
+good health!” Every one said it except the shepherd with the staring
+eyes, and he would not say it.
+
+The king heard of this and was very angry, and sent for the shepherd to
+appear before him.
+
+The shepherd came and stood before the throne, where the king sat
+looking very grand and powerful. But however grand or powerful he might
+be the shepherd did not feel a bit afraid of him.
+
+“Say at once, ‘To my good health!’” cried the king.
+
+“To my good health!” replied the shepherd.
+
+“To mine—to mine, you rascal, you vagabond!” stormed the king.
+
+“To mine, to mine, your Majesty,” was the answer.
+
+“But to mine—to my own,” roared the king, and beat on his breast in a
+rage.
+
+“Well, yes; to mine, of course, to my own,” cried the shepherd, and
+gently tapped his breast.
+
+The king was beside himself with fury and did not know what to do, when
+the Lord Chamberlain interfered:
+
+“Say at once—say this very moment: ‘To your health, your Majesty’; for
+if you don’t say it you’ll lose your life, whispered he.
+
+“No, I won’t say it till I get the princess for my wife,” was the
+shepherd’s answer. Now the princess was sitting on a little throne
+beside the king, her father, and she looked as sweet and lovely as a
+little golden dove. When she heard what the shepherd said she could not
+help laughing, for there is no denying the fact that this young
+shepherd with the staring eyes pleased her very much; indeed he pleased
+her better than any king’s son she had yet seen.
+
+But the king was not as pleasant as his daughter, and he gave orders to
+throw the shepherd into the white bear’s pit.
+
+The guards led him away and thrust him into the pit with the white
+bear, who had had nothing to eat for two days and was very hungry. The
+door of the pit was hardly closed when the bear rushed at the shepherd;
+but when it saw his eyes it was so frightened that it was ready to eat
+itself. It shrank away into a corner and gazed at him from there, and,
+in spite of being so famished, did not dare to touch him, but sucked
+its own paws from sheer hunger. The shepherd felt that if he once
+removed his eyes off the beast he was a dead man, and in order to keep
+himself awake he made songs and sang them, and so the night went by.
+
+Next morning the Lord Chamberlain came to see the shepherd’s bones, and
+was amazed to find him alive and well. He led him to the king, who fell
+into a furious passion, and said: “Well, you have learned what it is to
+be very near death, and now will you say ‘To my good health’?”
+
+But the shepherd answered: “I am not afraid of ten deaths! I will only
+say it if I may have the princess for my wife.”
+
+“Then go to your death,” cried the king; and ordered him to be thrown
+into the den with the wild boars. The wild boars had not been fed for a
+week, and when the shepherd was thrust into their don they rushed at
+him to tear him to pieces. But the shepherd took a little flute out of
+the sleeve of his jacket and began to play a merry tune, on which the
+wild boars first of all shrank shyly away, and then got up on their
+hind legs and danced gaily. The shepherd would have given anything to
+be able to laugh, they looked so funny; but he dared not stop playing,
+for he knew well enough that the moment he stopped they would fall upon
+him and tear him to pieces. His eyes were of no use to him here, for he
+could not have stared ten wild boars in the face at once; so he kept on
+playing, and the wild boars danced very slowly, as if in a minuet, then
+by degrees he played faster and faster till they could hardly twist and
+turn quickly enough, and ended by all falling over each other in a
+heap, quite exhausted and out of breath.
+
+Then the shepherd ventured to laugh at last; and he laughed so long and
+so loud that when the Lord Chamberlain came early in the morning,
+expecting to find only his bones, the tears were still running down his
+cheeks from laughter.
+
+As soon as the king was dressed the shepherd was again brought before
+him; but he was more angry than ever to think the wild boars had not
+torn the man to bits, and he said: “Well, you have learned what it
+feels to be near ten deaths, now say ‘To my good health!’”
+
+But the shepherd broke in with, “I do not fear a hundred deaths, and I
+will only say it if I may have the princess for my wife.”
+
+“Then go to a hundred deaths!” roared the king, and ordered the
+shepherd to be thrown down the deep vault of scythes.
+
+The guards dragged him away to a dark dungeon, in the middle of which
+was a deep well with sharp scythes all round it. At the bottom of the
+well was a little light by which one could see if anyone was thrown in
+whether he had fallen to the bottom.
+
+When the shepherd was dragged to the dungeons he begged the guards to
+leave him alone a little while that he might look down into the pit of
+scythes; perhaps he might after all make up his mind to say “To your
+good health” to the king. So the guards left him alone and he stuck up
+his long stick near the well, hung his cloak round the stick and put
+his hat on the top. He also hung his knapsack up inside the cloak so
+that it might seem to have some body within it. When this was done he
+called out to the guards and said that he had considered the matter but
+after all he could not make up his mind to say what the king wished.
+The guards came in, threw the hat and cloak, knapsack and stick all
+down the well together, watched to see how they put out the light at
+the bottom and came away, thinking that now there really was an end of
+the shepherd. But he had hidden in a dark corner and was laughing to
+himself all the time.
+
+Quite early next morning came the Lord Chamberlain, carrying a lamp and
+he nearly fell backwards with surprise when he saw the shepherd alive
+and well. He brought him to the king, whose fury was greater than ever,
+but who cried:
+
+“Well, now you have been near a hundred deaths; will you say: ‘To your
+good health’?”
+
+But the shepherd only gave the same answer:
+
+“I won’t say it till the princess is my wife.”
+
+“Perhaps after all you may do it for less,” said the king, who saw that
+there was no chance of making away with the shepherd; and he ordered
+the state coach to be got ready, then he made the shepherd get in with
+him and sit beside him, and ordered the coachman to drive to the silver
+wood. When they reached it he said: “Do you see this silver wood? Well,
+if you will say, ‘To your good health,’ I will give it to you.”
+
+The shepherd turned hot and cold by turns, but he still persisted:
+
+“I will not say it till the princess is my wife.”
+
+The king was much vexed; he drove further on till they came to a
+splendid castle, all of gold, and then he said:
+
+“Do you see this golden castle? Well, I will give you that too, the
+silver wood and the golden castle, if only you will say that one thing
+to me: ‘To your good health.’”
+
+The shepherd gaped and wondered and was quite dazzled, but he still
+said:
+
+“No; I will not say it till I have the princess for my wife.”
+
+This time the king was overwhelmed with grief, and gave orders to drive
+on to the diamond pond, and there he tried once more.
+
+“Do you see this diamond pond? I will give you that too, the silver
+wood and the golden castle and the diamond pond. You shall have them
+all—all—if you will but say: ‘To your good health!’”
+
+The shepherd had to shut his staring eyes tight not to be dazzled with
+the brilliant pond, but still he said:
+
+“No, no; I will not say it till I have the princess for my wife.”
+
+Then the king saw that all his efforts were useless, and that he might
+as well give in, so he said:
+
+“Well, well, it’s all the same to me—I will give you my daughter to
+wife; but, then, you really and truly must say to me: ‘To your good
+health.’”
+
+“Of course I’ll say it; why should I not say it? It stands to reason
+that I shall say it then.”
+
+At this the king was more delighted than anyone could have believed. He
+made it known all through the country that there were to be great
+rejoicings, as the princess was going to be married. And everyone
+rejoiced to think that the princess, who had refused so many royal
+suitors, should have ended by falling in love with the staring-eyed
+shepherd.
+
+There was such a wedding as had never been seen. Everyone ate and drank
+and danced. Even the sick were feasted, and quite tiny new-born
+children had presents given them.
+
+But the greatest merry-making was in the king’s palace; there the best
+bands played and the best food was cooked; a crowd of people sat down
+to table, and all was fun and merry-making.
+
+And when the groomsman, according to custom, brought in the great
+boar’s head on a big dish and placed it before the king so that he
+might carve it and give everyone a share, the savoury smell was so
+strong that the king began to sneeze with all his might.
+
+“To your very good health,” cried the shepherd before anyone else, and
+the king was so delighted that he did not regret having given him his
+daughter.
+
+In time, when the old king died, the shepherd succeeded him. He made a
+very good king and never expected his people to wish him well against
+their wills; but, all the same, everyone did wish him well, for they
+all loved him.
+
+[From Russische Mährchen.]
+
+
+
+
+The Story of the Seven Simons
+
+
+Far, far away, beyond all sorts of countries, seas and rivers, there
+stood a splendid city where lived King Archidej, who was as good as he
+was rich and handsome. His great army was made up of men ready to obey
+his slightest wish; he owned forty times forty cities, and in each city
+he had ten palaces with silver doors, golden roofs, and crystal
+windows. His council consisted of the twelve wisest men in the country,
+whose long beards flowed down over their breasts, each of whom was as
+learned as a whole college. This council always told the king the exact
+truth.
+
+Now the king had everything to make him happy, but he did not enjoy
+anything because he could not find a bride to his mind.
+
+One day, as he sat in his palace looking out to sea, a great ship
+sailed into the harbour and several merchants came on shore. Said the
+king to himself: “These people have travelled far and beheld many
+lands. I will ask them if they have seen any princess who is as clever
+and as handsome as I am.”
+
+So he ordered the merchants to be brought before him, and when they
+came he said: “You have travelled much and visited many wonders. I wish
+to ask you a question, and I beg you to answer truthfully.
+
+“Have you anywhere seen or heard of the daughter of an emperor, king,
+or a prince, who is as clever and as handsome as I am, and who would be
+worthy to be my wife and the queen of my country?”
+
+The merchants considered for some time. At last the eldest of them
+said: “I have heard that across many seas, in the Island of Busan,
+there is a mighty king, whose daughter, the Princess Helena, is so
+lovely that she can certainly not be plainer than your Majesty, and so
+clever that the wisest greybeard cannot guess her riddles.”
+
+“Is the island far off, and which is the way to it?”
+
+“It is not near,” was the answer. “The journey would take ten years,
+and we do not know the way. And even if we did, what use would that be?
+The princess is no bride for you.”
+
+“How dare you say so?” cried the king angrily.
+
+“Your Majesty must pardon us; but just think for a moment. Should you
+send an envoy to the island he will take ten years to get there and ten
+more to return—twenty years in all. Will not the princess have grown
+old in that time and have lost all her beauty?”
+
+The king reflected gravely. Then he thanked the merchants, gave them
+leave to trade in his country without paying any duties, and dismissed
+them.
+
+After they were gone the king remained deep in thought. He felt puzzled
+and anxious; so he decided to ride into the country to distract his
+mind, and sent for his huntsmen and falconers. The huntsmen blew their
+horns, the falconers took their hawks on their wrists, and off they all
+set out across country till they came to a green hedge. On the other
+side of the hedge stretched a great field of maize as far as the eye
+could reach, and the yellow ears swayed to and fro in the gentle breeze
+like a rippling sea of gold.
+
+The king drew rein and admired the field. “Upon my word,” said he,
+“whoever dug and planted it must be good workmen. If all the fields in
+my kingdom were as well cared for as this, there would be more bread
+than my people could eat.” And he wished to know to whom the field
+belonged.
+
+Off rushed all his followers at once to do his bidding, and found a
+nice, tidy farmhouse, in front of which sat seven peasants, lunching on
+rye bread and drinking water. They wore red shirts bound with gold
+braid, and were so much alike that one could hardly tell one from
+another.
+
+The messengers asked: “Who owns this field of golden maize?” And the
+seven brothers answered: “The field is ours.”
+
+“And who are you?”
+
+“We are King Archidej’s labourers.”
+
+These answers were repeated to the king, who ordered the brothers to be
+brought before him at once. On being asked who they were, the eldest
+said, bowing low:
+
+“We, King Archidej, are your labourers, children of one father and
+mother, and we all have the same name, for each of us is called Simon.
+Our father taught us to be true to our king, and to till the ground,
+and to be kind to our neighbours. He also taught each of us a different
+trade which he thought might be useful to us, and he bade us not
+neglect our mother earth, which would be sure amply to repay our
+labour.”
+
+The king was pleased with the honest peasant, and said: “You have done
+well, good people, in planting your field, and now you have a golden
+harvest. But I should like each of you to tell me what special trades
+your father taught you.”
+
+“My trade, O king!” said the first Simon, “is not an easy one. If you
+will give me some workmen and materials I will build you a great white
+pillar that shall reach far above the clouds.”
+
+“Very good,” replied the king. “And you, Simon the second, what is your
+trade?”
+
+“Mine, your Majesty, needs no great cleverness. When my brother has
+built the pillar I can mount it, and from the top, far above the
+clouds, I can see what is happening: in every country under the sun.”
+
+“Good,” said the king; “and Simon the third?”
+
+“My work is very simple, sire. You have many ships built by learned
+men, with all sorts of new and clever improvements. If you wish it I
+will build you quite a simple boat—one, two, three, and it’s done! But
+my plain little home-made ship is not grand enough for a king. Where
+other ships take a year, mine makes the voyage in a day, and where they
+would require ten years mine will do the distance in a week.”
+
+“Good,” said the king again; “and what has Simon the fourth learnt?”
+
+“My trade, O king, is really of no importance. Should my brother build
+you a ship, then let me embark in it. If we should be pursued by an
+enemy I can seize our boat by the prow and sink it to the bottom of the
+sea. When the enemy has sailed off, I can draw it up to the top again.”
+
+“That is very clever of you,” answered the king; “and what does Simon
+the fifth do?”
+
+“My work, your Majesty, is mere smith’s work. Order me to build a
+smithy and I will make you a cross-bow, but from which neither the
+eagle in the sky nor the wild beast in the forest is safe. The bolt
+hits whatever the eye sees.”
+
+“That sounds very useful,” said the king. “And now, Simon the sixth,
+tell me your trade.”
+
+“Sire, it is so simple I am almost ashamed to mention it. If my brother
+hits any creature I catch it quicker than any dog can. If it falls into
+the water I pick it up out of the greatest depths, and if it is in a
+dark forest I can find it even at midnight.”
+
+The king was much pleased with the trades and talk of the six brothers,
+and said: “Thank you, good people; your father did well to teach you
+all these things. Now follow me to the town, as I want to see what you
+can do. I need such people as you about me; but when harvest time comes
+I will send you home with royal presents.”
+
+The brothers bowed and said: “As the king wills.” Suddenly the king
+remembered that he had not questioned the seventh Simon, so he turned
+to him and said: “Why are you silent? What is your handicraft?”
+
+And the seventh Simon answered: “I have no handicraft, O king; I have
+learnt nothing. I could not manage it. And if I do know how to do
+anything it is not what might properly be called a real trade—it is
+rather a sort of performance; but it is one which no one—not the king
+himself—must watch me doing, and I doubt whether this performance of
+mine would please your Majesty.”
+
+“Come, come,” cried the king; “I will have no excuses, what is this
+trade?”
+
+“First, sire, give me your royal word that you will not kill me when I
+have told you. Then you shall hear.”
+
+“So be it, then; I give you my royal word.”
+
+Then the seventh Simon stepped back a little, cleared his throat, and
+said: “My trade, King Archidej, is of such a kind that the man who
+follows it in your kingdom generally loses his life and has no hopes of
+pardon. There is only one thing I can do really well, and that is—to
+steal, and to hide the smallest scrap of anything I have stolen. Not
+the deepest vault, even if its lock were enchanted, could prevent my
+stealing anything out of it that I wished to have.”
+
+When the king heard this he fell into a passion. “I will not pardon
+you, you rascal,” he cried; “I will shut you up in my deepest dungeon
+on bread and water till you have forgotten such a trade. Indeed, it
+would be better to put you to death at once, and I’ve a good mind to do
+so.”
+
+“Don’t kill me, O king! I am really not as bad as you think. Why, had I
+chosen, I could have robbed the royal treasury, have bribed your judges
+to let me off, and built a white marble palace with what was left. But
+though I know how to steal I don’t do it. You yourself asked me my
+trade. If you kill me you will break your royal word.”
+
+“Very well,” said the king, “I will not kill you. I pardon you. But
+from this hour you shall be shut up in a dark dungeon. Here, guards!
+away with him to the prison. But you six Simons follow me and be
+assured of my royal favour.”
+
+So the six Simons followed the king. The seventh Simon was seized by
+the guards, who put him in chains and threw him in prison with only
+bread and water for food. Next day the king gave the first Simon
+carpenters, masons, smiths and labourers, with great stores of iron,
+mortar, and the like, and Simon began to build. And he built his great
+white pillar far, far up into the clouds, as high as the nearest stars;
+but the other stars were higher still.
+
+Then the second Simon climbed up the pillar and saw and heard all that
+was going on through the whole world. When he came down he had all
+sorts of wonderful things to tell. How one king was marching in battle
+against another, and which was likely to be the victor. How, in another
+place, great rejoicings were going on, while in a third people were
+dying of famine. In fact there was not the smallest event going on over
+the earth that was hidden from him.
+
+Next the third Simon began. He stretched out his arms, once, twice,
+thrice, and the wonder-ship was ready. At a sign from the king it was
+launched, and floated proudly and safely like a bird on the waves.
+Instead of ropes it had wires for rigging, and musicians played on them
+with fiddle bows and made lovely music. As the ship swam about, the
+fourth Simon seized the prow with his strong hand, and in a moment it
+was gone—sunk to the bottom of the sea. An hour passed, and then the
+ship floated again, drawn up by Simon’s left hand, while in his right
+he brought a gigantic fish from the depth of the ocean for the royal
+table.
+
+Whilst this was going on the fifth Simon had built his forge and
+hammered out his iron, and when the king returned from the harbour the
+magic cross-bow was made.
+
+His Majesty went out into an open field at once, looked up into the sky
+and saw, far, far away, an eagle flying up towards the sun and looking
+like a little speck.
+
+“Now,” said the king, “if you can shoot that bird I will reward you.”
+
+Simon only smiled; he lifted his cross-bow, took aim, fired, and the
+eagle fell. As it was falling the sixth Simon ran with a dish, caught
+the bird before it fell to earth and brought it to the king.
+
+“Many thanks, my brave lads,” said the king; “I see that each of you is
+indeed a master of his trade. You shall be richly rewarded. But now
+rest and have your dinner.”
+
+The six Simons bowed and went to dinner. But they had hardly begun
+before a messenger came to say that the king wanted to see them. They
+obeyed at once and found him surrounded by all his court and men of
+state.
+
+“Listen, my good fellows,” cried the king, as soon as he saw them.
+“Hear what my wise counsellors have thought of. As you, Simon the
+second, can see the whole world from the top of the great pillar, I
+want you to climb up and to see and hear. For I am told that, far away,
+across many seas, is the great kingdom of the Island of Busan, and that
+the daughter of the king is the beautiful Princess Helena.”
+
+Off ran the second Simon and clambered quickly up the pillar. He gazed
+around, listened on all sides, and then slid down to report to the
+king.
+
+“Sire, I have obeyed your orders. Far away I saw the Island of Busan.
+The king is a mighty monarch, but full of pride, harsh and cruel. He
+sits on his throne and declares that no prince or king on earth is good
+enough for his lovely daughter, that he will give her to none, and that
+if any king asks for her hand he will declare war against him and
+destroy his kingdom.”
+
+“Has the king of Busan a great army?” asked King Archidej; “is his
+country far off?”
+
+“As far as I could judge,” replied Simon, “it would take you nearly ten
+years in fair weather to sail there. But if the weather were stormy we
+might say twelve. I saw the army being reviewed. It is not so very
+large—a hundred thousand men at arms and a hundred thousand knights.
+Besides these, he has a strong bodyguard and a good many cross-bowmen.
+Altogether you may say another hundred thousand, and there is a picked
+body of heroes who reserve themselves for great occasions requiring
+particular courage.”
+
+The king sat for some time lost in thought. At last he said to the
+nobles and courtiers standing round: “I am determined to marry the
+Princess Helena, but how shall I do it?”
+
+The nobles, courtiers and counsellors said nothing, but tried to hide
+behind each other. Then the third Simon said:
+
+“Pardon me, your Majesty, if I offer my advice. You wish to go to the
+Island of Busan? What can be easier? In my ship you will get there in a
+week instead of in ten years. But ask your council to advise you what
+to do when you arrive—in one word, whether you will win the princess
+peacefully or by war?”
+
+But the wise men were as silent as ever.
+
+The king frowned, and was about to say something sharp, when the Court
+Fool pushed his way to the front and said: “Dear me, what are all you
+clever people so puzzled about? The matter is quite clear. As it seems
+it will not take long to reach the island why not send the seventh
+Simon? He will steal the fair maiden fast enough, and then the king,
+her father, may consider how he is going to bring his army over here—it
+will take him ten years to do it!—-no less! What do you think of my
+plan?”
+
+“What do I think? Why, that your idea is capital, and you shall be
+rewarded for it. Come, guards, hurry as fast as you can and bring the
+seventh Simon before me.”
+
+Not many minutes later, Simon the seventh stood before the king, who
+explained to him what he wished done, and also that to steal for the
+benefit of his king and country was by no means a wrong thing, though
+it was very wrong to steal for his own advantage.
+
+The youngest Simon, who looked very pale and hungry, only nodded his
+head.
+
+“Come,” said the king, “tell me truly. Do you think you could steal the
+Princess Helena?”
+
+“Why should I not steal her, sire? The thing is easy enough. Let my
+brother’s ship be laden with rich stuffs, brocades, Persian carpets,
+pearls and jewels. Send me in the ship. Give me my four middle brothers
+as companions, and keep the two others as hostages.”
+
+When the king heard these words his heart became filled with longing,
+and he ordered all to be done as Simon wished. Every one ran about to
+do his bidding; and in next to no time the wonder-ship was laden and
+ready to start.
+
+The five Simons took leave of the king, went on board, and had no
+sooner set sail than they were almost out of sight. The ship cut
+through the waters like a falcon through the air, and just a week after
+starting sighted the Island of Busan. The coast appeared to be strongly
+guarded, and from afar the watchman on a high tower called out: “Halt
+and anchor! Who are you? Where do you come from, and what do you want?”
+
+The seventh Simon answered from the ship: “We are peaceful people. We
+come from the country of the great and good King Archidej, and we bring
+foreign wares—rich brocades, carpets, and costly jewels, which we wish
+to show to your king and the princess. We desire to trade—to sell, to
+buy, and to exchange.”
+
+The brothers launched a small boat, took some of their valuable goods
+with them, rowed to shore and went up to the palace. The princess sat
+in a rose-red room, and when she saw the brothers coming near she
+called her nurse and other women, and told them to inquire who and what
+these people were, and what they wanted.
+
+The seventh Simon answered the nurse: “We come from the country of the
+wise and good King Archidej,” said he, “and we have brought all sorts
+of goods for sale. We trust the king of this country may condescend to
+welcome us, and to let his servants take charge of our wares. If he
+considers them worthy to adorn his followers we shall be content.”
+
+This speech was repeated to the princess, who ordered the brothers to
+be brought to the red-room at once. They bowed respectfully to her and
+displayed some splendid velvets and brocades, and opened cases of
+pearls and precious stones. Such beautiful things had never been seen
+in the island, and the nurse and waiting women stood bewildered by all
+the magnificence. They whispered together that they had never beheld
+anything like it. The princess too saw and wondered, and her eyes could
+not weary of looking at the lovely things, or her fingers of stroking
+the rich soft stuffs, and of holding up the sparkling jewels to the
+light.
+
+“Fairest of princesses,” said Simon. “Be pleased to order your
+waiting-maids to accept the silks and velvets, and let your women trim
+their head-dresses with the jewels; these are no special treasures. But
+permit me to say that they are as nothing to the many coloured
+tapestries, the gorgeous stones and ropes of pearls in our ship. We did
+not like to bring more with us, not knowing what your royal taste might
+be; but if it seems good to you to honour our ship with a visit, you
+might condescend to choose such things as were pleasing in your eyes.”
+
+This polite speech pleased the princess very much. She went to the king
+and said: “Dear father, some merchants have arrived with the most
+splendid wares. Pray allow me to go to their ship and choose out what I
+like.”
+
+The king thought and thought, frowned hard and rubbed his ear. At last
+he gave consent, and ordered out his royal yacht, with 100 cross-bows,
+100 knights, and 1,000 soldiers, to escort the Princess Helena.
+
+Off sailed the yacht with the princess and her escort. The brothers
+Simon came on board to conduct the princess to their ship, and, led by
+the brothers and followed by her nurse and other women, she crossed the
+crystal plank from one vessel to another.
+
+The seventh Simon spread out his goods, and had so many curious and
+interesting tales to tell about them, that the princess forgot
+everything else in looking and listening, so that she did not know that
+the fourth Simon had seized the prow of the ship, and that all of a
+sudden it had vanished from sight, and was racing along in the depths
+of the sea.
+
+The crew of the royal yacht shouted aloud, the knights stood still with
+terror, the soldiers were struck dumb and hung their heads. There was
+nothing to be done but to sail back and tell the king of his loss.
+
+How he wept and stormed! “Oh, light of my eyes,” he sobbed; “I am
+indeed punished for my pride. I thought no one good enough to be your
+husband, and now you are lost in the depths of the sea, and have left
+me alone! As for all of you who saw this thing—away with you! Let them
+be put in irons and lock them up in prison, whilst I think how I can
+best put them to death!”
+
+Whilst the King of Busan was raging and lamenting in this fashion,
+Simon’s ship was swimming like any fish under the sea, and when the
+island was well out of sight he brought it up to the surface again. At
+that moment the princess recollected herself. “Nurse,” said she, “we
+have been gazing at these wonders only too long. I hope my father won’t
+be vexed at our delay.”
+
+She tore herself away and stepped on deck. Neither the yacht nor the
+island was in sight! Helena wrung her hands and beat her breast. Then
+she changed herself into a white swan and flew off. But the fifth Simon
+seized his bow and shot the swan, and the sixth Simon did not let it
+fall into the water but caught it in the ship, and the swan turned into
+a silver fish, but Simon lost no time and caught the fish, when, quick
+as thought, the fish turned into a black mouse and ran about the ship.
+It darted towards a hole, but before it could reach it Simon sprang
+upon it more swiftly than any cat, and then the little mouse turned
+once more into the beautiful Princess Helena.
+
+Early one morning King Archidej sat thoughtfully at his window gazing
+out to sea. His heart was sad and he would neither eat nor drink. His
+thoughts were full of the Princess Helena, who was as lovely as a
+dream. Is that a white gull he sees flying towards the shore, or is it
+a sail? No, it is no gull, it is the wonder-ship flying along with
+billowing sails. Its flags wave, the fiddlers play on the wire rigging,
+the anchor is thrown out and the crystal plank laid from the ship to
+the pier. The lovely Helena steps across the plank. She shines like the
+sun, and the stars of heaven seem to sparkle in her eyes.
+
+Up sprang King Archidej in haste: “Hurry, hurry,” he cried. “Let us
+hasten to meet her! Let the bugles sound and the joy bells be rung!”
+
+And the whole Court swarmed with courtiers and servants. Golden carpets
+were laid down and the great gates thrown open to welcome the princess.
+
+King Archidej went out himself, took her by the hand and led her into
+the royal apartments.
+
+“Madam,” said he, “the fame of your beauty had reached me, but I had
+not dared to expect such loveliness. Still I will not keep you here
+against your will. If you wish it, the wonder-ship shall take you back
+to your father and your own country; but if you will consent to stay
+here, then reign over me and my country as our queen.”
+
+What more is there to tell? It is not hard to guess that the princess
+listened to the king’s wooing, and their betrothal took place with
+great pomp and rejoicings.
+
+The brothers Simon were sent again to the Island of Busan with a letter
+to the king from his daughter to invite him to their wedding. And the
+wonder-ship arrived at the Island of Busan just as all the knights and
+soldiers who had escorted the princess were being led out to execution.
+
+Then the seventh Simon cried out from the ship: “Stop! stop! I bring a
+letter from the Princess Helena!”
+
+The King of Busan read the letter over and over again, and ordered the
+knights and soldiers to be set free. He entertained King Archidej’s
+ambassadors hospitably, and sent his blessing to his daughter, but he
+could not be brought to attend the wedding.
+
+When the wonder-ship got home King Archidej and Princess Helena were
+enchanted with the news it brought.
+
+The king sent for the seven Simons. “A thousand thanks to you, my brave
+fellows,” he cried. “Take what gold, silver, and precious stones you
+will out of my treasury. Tell me if there is anything else you wish for
+and I will give it you, my good friends. Do you wish to be made nobles,
+or to govern towns? Only speak.”
+
+Then the eldest Simon bowed and said: “We are plain folk, your Majesty,
+and understand simple things best. What figures should we cut as nobles
+or governors? Nor do we desire gold. We have our fields which give us
+food, and as much money as we need. If you wish to reward us then grant
+that our land may be free of taxes, and of your goodness pardon the
+seventh Simon. He is not the first who has been a thief by trade and he
+will certainly not be the last.”
+
+“So be it,” said the king; “your land shall be free of all taxes, and
+Simon the seventh is pardoned.”
+
+Then the king gave each brother a goblet of wine and invited them to
+the wedding feast. And what a feast that was!
+
+[From Ungarischen Mährchen.]
+
+
+
+
+The Language of Beasts
+
+
+Once upon a time a man had a shepherd who served him many years
+faithfully and honestly. One day, whilst herding his flock, this
+shepherd heard a hissing sound, coming out of the forest near by, which
+he could not account for. So he went into the wood in the direction of
+the noise to try to discover the cause. When he approached the place he
+found that the dry grass and leaves were on fire, and on a tree,
+surrounded by flames, a snake was coiled, hissing with terror.
+
+The shepherd stood wondering how the poor snake could escape, for the
+wind was blowing the flames that way, and soon that tree would be
+burning like the rest. Suddenly the snake cried: “O shepherd! for the
+love of heaven save me from this fire!”
+
+Then the shepherd stretched his staff out over the flames and the snake
+wound itself round the staff and up to his hand, and from his hand it
+crept up his arm, and twined itself about his neck. The shepherd
+trembled with fright, expecting every instant to be stung to death, and
+said: “What an unlucky man I am! Did I rescue you only to be destroyed
+myself?” But the snake answered: “Have no fear; only carry me home to
+my father who is the King of the Snakes.” The shepherd, however, was
+much too frightened to listen, and said that he could not go away and
+leave his flock alone; but the snake said: “You need not be afraid to
+leave your flock, no evil shall befall them; but make all the haste you
+can.”
+
+So he set off through the wood carrying the snake, and after a time he
+came to a great gateway, made entirely of snakes intertwined one with
+another. The shepherd stood still with surprise, but the snake round
+his neck whistled, and immediately all the arch unwound itself.
+
+“When we are come to my father’s house,” said his own snake to him, “he
+will reward you with anything you like to ask—silver, gold, jewels, or
+whatever on this earth is most precious; but take none of all these
+things, ask rather to understand the language of beasts. He will refuse
+it to you a long time, but in the end he will grant it to you.”
+
+Soon after that they arrived at the house of the King of the Snakes,
+who burst into tears of joy at the sight of his daughter, as he had
+given her up for dead. “Where have you been all this time?” he asked,
+directly he could speak, and she told him that she had been caught in a
+forest fire, and had been rescued from the flames by the shepherd. The
+King of the Snakes, then turning to the shepherd, said to him: “What
+reward will you choose for saving my child?”
+
+“Make me to know the language of beasts,” answered the shepherd, “that
+is all I desire.”
+
+The king replied: “Such knowledge would be of no benefit to you, for if
+I granted it to you and you told any one of it, you would immediately
+die; ask me rather for whatever else you would most like to possess,
+and it shall be yours.”
+
+But the shepherd answered him: “Sir, if you wish to reward me for
+saving your daughter, grant me, I pray you, to know the language of
+beasts. I desire nothing else”; and he turned as if to depart.
+
+Then the king called him back, saying: “If nothing else will satisfy
+you, open your mouth.” The man obeyed, and the king spat into it, and
+said: “Now spit into my mouth.” The shepherd did as he was told, then
+the King of the Snakes spat again into the shepherd’s mouth. When they
+had spat into each other’s mouths three times, the king said:
+
+“Now you know the language of beasts, go in peace; but, if you value
+your life, beware lest you tell any one of it, else you will
+immediately die.”
+
+So the shepherd set out for home, and on his way through the wood he
+heard and understood all that was said by the birds, and by every
+living creature. When he got back to his sheep he found the flock
+grazing peacefully, and as he was very tired he laid himself down by
+them to rest a little. Hardly had he done so when two ravens flew down
+and perched on a tree near by, and began to talk to each other in their
+own language: “If that shepherd only knew that there is a vault full of
+gold and silver beneath where that lamb is lying, what would he not
+do?” When the shepherd heard these words he went straight to his master
+and told him, and the master at once took a waggon, and broke open the
+door of the vault, and they carried off the treasure. But instead of
+keeping it for himself, the master, who was an honourable man, gave it
+all up to the shepherd, saying: “Take it, it is yours. The gods have
+given it to you.” So the shepherd took the treasure and built himself a
+house. He married a wife, and they lived in great peace and happiness,
+and he was acknowledged to be the richest man, not only of his native
+village, but of all the country-side. He had flocks of sheep, and
+cattle, and horses without end, as well as beautiful clothes and
+jewels.
+
+One day, just before Christmas, he said to his wife: “Prepare
+everything for a great feast, to-morrow we will take things with us to
+the farm that the shepherds there may make merry.” The wife obeyed, and
+all was prepared as he desired. Next day they both went to the farm,
+and in the evening the master said to the shepherds: “Now come, all of
+you, eat, drink, and make merry. I will watch the flocks myself
+to-night in your stead.” Then he went out to spend the night with the
+flocks.
+
+When midnight struck the wolves howled and the dogs barked, and the
+wolves spoke in their own tongue, saying:
+
+“Shall we come in and work havoc, and you too shall eat flesh?” And the
+dogs answered in their tongue: “Come in, and for once we shall have
+enough to eat.”
+
+Now amongst the dogs there was one so old that he had only two teeth
+left in his head, and he spoke to the wolves, saying: “So long as I
+have my two teeth still in my head, I will let no harm be done to my
+master.”
+
+All this the master heard and understood, and as soon as morning dawned
+he ordered all the dogs to be killed excepting the old dog. The farm
+servants wondered at this order, and exclaimed: “But surely, sir, that
+would be a pity?”
+
+The master answered: “Do as I bid you”; and made ready to return home
+with his wife, and they mounted their horses, her steed being a mare.
+As they went on their way, it happened that the husband rode on ahead,
+while the wife was a little way behind. The husband’s horse, seeing
+this, neighed, and said to the mare: “Come along, make haste; why are
+you so slow?” And the mare answered: “It is very easy for you, you
+carry only your master, who is a thin man, but I carry my mistress, who
+is so fat that she weights as much as three.” When the husband heard
+that he looked back and laughed, which the wife perceiving, she urged
+on the mare till she caught up with her husband, and asked him why he
+laughed. “For nothing at all,” he answered; “just because it came into
+my head.” She would not be satisfied with this answer, and urged him
+more and more to tell her why he had laughed. But he controlled himself
+and said: “Let me be, wife; what ails you? I do not know myself why I
+laughed.” But the more he put her off, the more she tormented him to
+tell her the cause of his laughter. At length he said to her: “Know,
+then, that if I tell it you I shall immediately and surely die.” But
+even this did not quiet her; she only besought him the more to tell
+her.
+
+Meanwhile they had reached home, and before getting down from his horse
+the man called for a coffin to be brought; and when it was there he
+placed it in front of the house, and said to his wife:
+
+“See, I will lay myself down in this coffin, and will then tell you why
+I laughed, for as soon as I have told you I shall surely die.” So he
+lay down in the coffin, and while he took a last look around him, his
+old dog came out from the farm and sat down by him, and whined. When
+the master saw this, he called to his wife: “Bring a piece of bread to
+give to the dog.” The wife brought some bread and threw it to the dog,
+but he would not look at it. Then the farm cock came and pecked at the
+bread; but the dog said to it: “Wretched glutton, you can eat like that
+when you see that your master is dying?” The cock answered: “Let him
+die, if he is so stupid. I have a hundred wives, which I call together
+when I find a grain of corn, and as soon as they are there I swallow it
+myself; should one of them dare to be angry, I would give her a lesson
+with my beak. He has only one wife, and he cannot keep her in order.”
+
+As soon as the man understood this, he got up out of the coffin, seized
+a stick, and called his wife into the room, saying: “Come, and I will
+tell you what you so much want to know”; and then he began to beat her
+with the stick, saying with each blow: “It is that, wife, it is that!”
+And in this way he taught her never again to ask why he had laughed.
+
+
+
+
+The Boy Who Could Keep A Secret
+
+
+Once upon a time there lived a poor widow who had one little boy. At
+first sight you would not have thought that he was different from a
+thousand other little boys; but then you noticed that by his side hung
+the scabbard of a sword, and as the boy grew bigger the scabbard grew
+bigger too. The sword which belonged to the scabbard was found by the
+little boy sticking out of the ground in the garden, and every day he
+pulled it up to see if it would go into the scabbard. But though it was
+plainly becoming longer and longer, it was some time before the two
+would fit.
+
+However, there came a day at last when it slipped in quite easily. The
+child was so delighted that he could hardly believe his eyes, so he
+tried it seven times, and each time it slipped in more easily than
+before. But pleased though the boy was, he determined not to tell
+anyone about it, particularly not his mother, who never could keep
+anything from her neighbours.
+
+Still, in spite of his resolutions, he could not hide altogether that
+something had happened, and when he went in to breakfast his mother
+asked him what was the matter.
+
+“Oh, mother, I had such a nice dream last night,” said he; “but I can’t
+tell it to anybody.”
+
+“You can tell it to me,” she answered. “It must have been a nice dream,
+or you wouldn’t look so happy.”
+
+“No, mother; I can’t tell it to anybody,” returned the boy, “till it
+comes true.”
+
+“I want to know what it was, and know it I will,” cried she, “and I
+will beat you till you tell me.”
+
+But it was no use, neither words nor blows would get the secret out of
+the boy; and when her arm was quite tired and she had to leave off, the
+child, sore and aching, ran into the garden and knelt weeping beside
+his little sword. It was working round and round in its hole all by
+itself, and if anyone except the boy had tried to catch hold of it, he
+would have been badly cut. But the moment he stretched out his hand it
+stopped and slid quietly into the scabbard.
+
+For a long time the child sat sobbing, and the noise was heard by the
+king as he was driving by. “Go and see who it is that is crying so,”
+said he to one of his servants, and the man went. In a few minutes he
+returned saying: “Your Majesty, it is a little boy who is kneeling
+there sobbing because his mother has beaten him.”
+
+“Bring him to me at once,” commanded the monarch, “and tell him that it
+is the king who sends for him, and that he has never cried in all his
+life and cannot bear anyone else to do so.” On receiving this message
+the boy dried his tears and went with the servant to the royal
+carriage. “Will you be my son?” asked the king.
+
+“Yes, if my mother will let me,” answered the boy. And the king bade
+the servant go back to the mother and say that if she would give her
+boy to him, he should live in the palace and marry his prettiest
+daughter as soon as he was a man.
+
+The widow’s anger now turned into joy, and she came running to the
+splendid coach and kissed the king’s hand. “I hope you will be more
+obedient to his Majesty than you were to me,” she said; and the boy
+shrank away half-frightened. But when she had gone back to her cottage,
+he asked the king if he might fetch something that he had left in the
+garden, and when he was given permission, he pulled up his little
+sword, which he slid into the scabbard.
+
+Then he climbed into the coach and was driven away.
+
+After they had gone some distance the king said: “Why were you crying
+so bitterly in the garden just now?”
+
+“Because my mother had been beating me,” replied the boy.
+
+“And what did she do that for?” asked the king again.
+
+“Because I would not tell her my dream.”
+
+“And why wouldn’t you tell it to her?”
+
+“Because I will never tell it to anyone till it comes true,” answered
+the boy.
+
+“And won’t you tell it to me either?” asked the king in surprise.
+
+“No, not even to you, your Majesty,” replied he.
+
+“Oh, I am sure you will when we get home,” said the king smiling, and
+he talked to him about other things till they came to the palace.
+
+“I have brought you such a nice present,” he said to his daughters, and
+as the boy was very pretty they were delighted to have him and gave him
+all their best toys.
+
+“You must not spoil him,” observed the king one day, when he had been
+watching them playing together. He has a secret which he won’t tell to
+anyone.”
+
+“He will tell me,” answered the eldest princess; but the boy only shook
+his head.
+
+“He will tell me,” said the second girl.
+
+“Not I,” replied the boy.
+
+“He will tell me,” cried the youngest, who was the prettiest too.
+
+“I will tell nobody till it comes true,” said the boy, as he had said
+before; “and I will beat anybody who asks me.”
+
+The king was very sorry when he heard this, for he loved the boy
+dearly; but he thought it would never do to keep anyone near him who
+would not do as he was bid. So he commanded his servants to take him
+away and not to let him enter the palace again until he had come to his
+right senses.
+
+The sword clanked loudly as the boy was led away, but the child said
+nothing, though he was very unhappy at being treated so badly when he
+had done nothing. However, the servants were very kind to him, and
+their children brought him fruit and all sorts of nice things, and he
+soon grew merry again, and lived amongst them for many years till his
+seventeenth birthday.
+
+Meanwhile the two eldest princesses had become women, and had married
+two powerful kings who ruled over great countries across the sea. The
+youngest one was old enough to be married too, but she was very
+particular, and turned up her nose at all the young princes who had
+sought her hand.
+
+One day she was sitting in the palace feeling rather dull and lonely,
+and suddenly she began to wonder what the servants were doing, and
+whether it was not more amusing down in their quarters. The king was at
+his council and the queen was ill in bed, so there was no one to stop
+the princess, and she hastily ran across the gardens to the houses
+where the servants lived. Outside she noticed a youth who was handsomer
+than any prince she had ever seen, and in a moment she knew him to be
+the little boy she had once played with.
+
+“Tell me your secret and I will marry you,” she said to him; but the
+boy only gave her the beating he had promised her long ago, when she
+asked him the same question. The girl was very angry, besides being
+hurt, and ran home to complain to her father.
+
+“If he had a thousand souls, I would kill them all,” swore the king.
+
+That very day a gallows was built outside the town, and all the people
+crowded round to see the execution of the young man who had dared to
+beat the king’s daughter. The prisoner, with his hands tied behind his
+back, was brought out by the hangman, and amidst dead silence his
+sentence was being read by the judge when suddenly the sword clanked
+against his side. Instantly a great noise was heard and a golden coach
+rumbled over the stones, with a white flag waving out of the window. It
+stopped underneath the gallows, and from it stepped the king of the
+Magyars, who begged that the life of the boy might be spared.
+
+“Sir, he has beaten my daughter, who only asked him to tell her his
+secret. I cannot pardon that,” answered the princess’s father.
+
+“Give him to me, I’m sure he will tell me the secret; or, if not, I
+have a daughter who is like the Morning Star, and he is sure to tell it
+to her.”
+
+The sword clanked for the third time, and the king said angrily: “Well,
+if you want him so much you can have him; only never let me see his
+face again.” And he made a sign to the hangman. The bandage was removed
+from the young man’s eyes, and the cords from his wrists, and he took
+his seat in the golden coach beside the king of the Magyars. Then the
+coachman whipped up his horses, and they set out for Buda.
+
+The king talked very pleasantly for a few miles, and when he thought
+that his new companion was quite at ease with him, he asked him what
+was the secret which had brought him into such trouble. “That I cannot
+tell you,” answered the youth, “until it comes true.”
+
+“You will tell my daughter,” said the king, smiling.
+
+“I will tell nobody,” replied the youth, and as he spoke the sword
+clanked loudly. The king said no more, but trusted to his daughter’s
+beauty to get the secret from him.
+
+The journey to Buda was long, and it was several days before they
+arrived there. The beautiful princess happened to be picking roses in
+the garden, when her father’s coach drove up.
+
+“Oh, what a handsome youth! Have you brought him from fairyland?” cried
+she, when they all stood upon the marble steps in front of the castle.
+
+“I have brought him from the gallows,” answered the king; rather vexed
+at his daughter’s words, as never before had she consented to speak to
+any man.
+
+“I don’t care where you brought him from,” said the spoilt girl. “I
+will marry him and nobody else, and we will live together till we die.”
+
+“You will tell another tale,” replied the king, “when you ask him his
+secret. After all he is no better than a servant.”
+
+“That is nothing to me,” said the princess, “for I love him. He will
+tell his secret to me, and will find a place in the middle of my
+heart.”
+
+But the king shook his head, and gave orders that the lad was to be
+lodged in the summer-house.
+
+One day, about a week later, the princess put on her finest dress, and
+went to pay him a visit. She looked so beautiful that, at the sight of
+her, the book dropped from his hand, and he stood up speechless. “Tell
+me,” she said, coaxingly, “what is this wonderful secret? Just whisper
+it in my ear, and I will give you a kiss.”
+
+“My angel,” he answered, “be wise, and ask no questions, if you wish to
+get safely back to your father’s palace; I have kept my secret all
+these years, and do not mean to tell it now.”
+
+However, the girl would not listen, and went on pressing him, till at
+last he slapped her face so hard that her nose bled. She shrieked with
+pain and rage, and ran screaming back to the palace, where her father
+was waiting to hear if she had succeeded. “I will starve you to death,
+you son of a dragon,” cried he, when he saw her dress streaming with
+blood; and he ordered all the masons and bricklayers in the town to
+come before him.
+
+“Build me a tower as fast as you can,” he said, “and see that there is
+room for a stool and a small table, and for nothing else. The men set
+to work, and in two hours the tower was built, and they proceeded to
+the palace to inform the king that his commands were fulfilled. On the
+way they met the princess, who began to talk to one of the masons, and
+when the rest were out of hearing she asked if he could manage to make
+a hole in the tower, which nobody could see, large enough for a bottle
+of wine and some food to pass through.
+
+“To be sure I can,” said the mason, turning back, and in a few minutes
+the hole was bored.
+
+At sunset a large crowd assembled to watch the youth being led to the
+tower, and after his misdeeds had been proclaimed he was solemnly
+walled up. But every morning the princess passed him in food through
+the hole, and every third day the king sent his secretary to climb up a
+ladder and look down through a little window to see if he was dead. But
+the secretary always brought back the report that he was fat and rosy.
+
+“There is some magic about this,” said the king.
+
+This state of affairs lasted some time, till one day a messenger
+arrived from the Sultan bearing a letter for the king, and also three
+canes. “My master bids me say,” said the messenger, bowing low, “that
+if you cannot tell him which of these three canes grows nearest the
+root, which in the middle, and which at the top, he will declare war
+against you.
+
+The king was very much frightened when he heard this, and though he
+took the canes and examined them closely, he could see no difference
+between them. He looked so sad that his daughter noticed it, and
+inquired the reason.
+
+“Alas! my daughter,” he answered, “how can I help being sad? The Sultan
+has sent me three canes, and says that if I cannot tell him which of
+them grows near the root, which in the middle, and which at the top, he
+will make war upon me. And you know that his army is far greater than
+mine.”
+
+“Oh, do not despair, my father,” said she. “We shall be sure to find
+out the answer”; and she ran away to the tower, and told the young man
+what had occurred.
+
+“Go to bed as usual,” replied he, “and when you wake, tell your father
+that you have dreamed that the canes must be placed in warm water.
+After a little while one will sink to the bottom; that is the one that
+grows nearest the root. The one which neither sinks nor comes to the
+surface is the cane that is cut from the middle; and the one that
+floats is from the top.”
+
+So, the next morning, the princess told her father of her dream, and by
+her advice he cut notches in each of the canes when he took them out of
+the water, so that he might make no mistake when he handed them back to
+the messenger. The Sultan could not imagine how he had found out, but
+he did not declare war.
+
+The following year the Sultan again wanted to pick a quarrel with the
+king of the Magyars, so he sent another messenger to him with three
+foals, begging him to say which of the animals was born in the morning,
+which at noon, and which in the evening. If an answer was not ready in
+three days, war would be declared at once. The king’s heart sank when
+he read the letter. He could not expect his daughter to be lucky enough
+to dream rightly a second time, and as a plague had been raging through
+the country, and had carried off many of his soldiers, his army was
+even weaker than before. At this thought his face became so gloomy that
+his daughter noticed it, and inquired what was the matter.
+
+“I have had another letter from the Sultan,” replied the king, “and he
+says that if I cannot tell him which of three foals was born in the
+morning, which at noon, and which in the evening, he will declare war
+at once.”
+
+“Oh, don’t be cast down,” said she, “something is sure to happen”; and
+she ran down to the tower to consult the youth.
+
+“Go home, idol of my heart, and when night comes, pretend to scream out
+in your sleep, so that your father hears you. Then tell him that you
+have dreamt that he was just being carried off by the Turks because he
+could not answer the question about the foals, when the lad whom he had
+shut up in the tower ran up and told them which was foaled in the
+morning, which at noon, and which in the evening.”
+
+So the princess did exactly as the youth had bidden her; and no sooner
+had she spoken than the king ordered the tower to be pulled down, and
+the prisoner brought before him.
+
+“I did not think that you could have lived so long without food,” said
+he, “and as you have had plenty of time to repent your wicked conduct,
+I will grant you pardon, on condition that you help me in a sore
+strait. Read this letter from the Sultan; you will see that if I fail
+to answer his question about the foals, a dreadful war will be the
+result.”
+
+The youth took the letter and read it through. “Yes, I can help you,”
+replied he; “but first you must bring me three troughs, all exactly
+alike. Into one you must put oats, into another wheat, and into the
+third barley. The foal which eats the oats is that which was foaled in
+the morning; the foal which eats the wheat is that which was foaled at
+noon; and the foal which eats the barley is that which was foaled at
+night.” The king followed the youth’s directions, and, marking the
+foals, sent them back to Turkey, and there was no war that year.
+
+Now the Sultan was very angry that both his plots to get possession of
+Hungary had been such total failures, and he sent for his aunt, who was
+a witch, to consult her as to what he should do next.
+
+“It is not the king who has answered your questions,” observed the
+aunt, when he had told his story. “He is far too stupid ever to have
+done that! The person who has found out the puzzle is the son of a poor
+woman, who, if he lives, will become King of Hungary. Therefore, if you
+want the crown yourself, you must get him here and kill him.”
+
+After this conversation another letter was written to the Court of
+Hungary, saying that if the youth, now in the palace, was not sent to
+Turkey within three days, a large army would cross the border. The
+king’s heart was sorrowful as he read, for he was grateful to the lad
+for what he had done to help him; but the boy only laughed, and bade
+the king fear nothing, but to search the town instantly for two youths
+just like each other, and he would paint himself a mask that was just
+like them. And the sword at his side clanked loudly.
+
+After a long search twin brothers were found, so exactly resembling
+each other that even their own mother could not tell the difference.
+The youth painted a mask that was the precise copy of them, and when he
+had put it on, no one would have known one boy from the other. They set
+out at once for the Sultan’s palace, and when they reached it, they
+were taken straight into his presence. He made a sign for them to come
+near; they all bowed low in greeting. He asked them about their
+journey; they answered his questions all together, and in the same
+words. If one sat down to supper, the others sat down at the same
+instant. When one got up, the others got up too, as if there had been
+only one body between them. The Sultan could not detect any difference
+between them, and he told his aunt that he would not be so cruel as to
+kill all three.
+
+“Well, you will see a difference to-morrow,” replied the witch, “for
+one will have a cut on his sleeve. That is the youth you must kill.”
+And one hour before midnight, when witches are invisible, she glided
+into the room where all three lads were sleeping in the same bed. She
+took out a pair of scissors and cut a small piece out of the boy’s
+coat-sleeve which was hanging on the wall, and then crept silently from
+the room. But in the morning the youth saw the slit, and he marked the
+sleeves of his two companions in the same way, and all three went down
+to breakfast with the Sultan. The old witch was standing in the window
+and pretended not to see them; but all witches have eyes in the backs
+of their heads, and she knew at once that not one sleeve but three were
+cut, and they were all as alike as before. After breakfast, the Sultan,
+who was getting tired of the whole affair and wanted to be alone to
+invent some other plan, told them they might return home. So, bowing
+low with one accord, they went.
+
+The princess welcomed the boy back joyfully, but the poor youth was not
+allowed to rest long in peace, for one day a fresh letter arrived from
+the Sultan, saying that he had discovered that the young man was a very
+dangerous person, and that he must be sent to Turkey at once, and
+alone. The girl burst into tears when the boy told her what was in the
+letter which her father had bade her to carry to him. “Do not weep,
+love of my heart,” said the boy, “all will be well. I will start at
+sunrise to-morrow.”
+
+So next morning at sunrise the youth set forth, and in a few days he
+reached the Sultan’s palace. The old witch was waiting for him at the
+gate, and whispered as he passed: “This is the last time you will ever
+enter it.” But the sword clanked, and the lad did not even look at her.
+As he crossed the threshold fifteen armed Turks barred his way, with
+the Sultan at their head. Instantly the sword darted forth and cut off
+the heads of everyone but the Sultan, and then went quietly back to its
+scabbard. The witch, who was looking on, saw that as long as the youth
+had possession of the sword, all her schemes would be in vain, and
+tried to steal the sword in the night, but it only jumped out of its
+scabbard and sliced off her nose, which was of iron. And in the
+morning, when the Sultan brought a great army to capture the lad and
+deprive him of his sword, they were all cut to pieces, while he
+remained without a scratch.
+
+Meanwhile the princess was in despair because the days slipped by, and
+the young man did not return, and she never rested until her father let
+her lead some troops against the Sultan. She rode proudly before them,
+dressed in uniform; but they had not left the town more than a mile
+behind them, when they met the lad and his little sword. When he told
+them what he had done they shouted for joy, and carried him back in
+triumph to the palace; and the king declared that as the youth had
+shown himself worthy to become his son-in-law, he should marry the
+princess and succeed to the throne at once, as he himself was getting
+old, and the cares of government were too much for him. But the young
+man said he must first go and see his mother, and the king sent him in
+state, with a troop of soldiers as his bodyguard.
+
+The old woman was quite frightened at seeing such an array draw up
+before her little house, and still more surprised when a handsome young
+man, whom she did not know, dismounted and kissed her hand, saying:
+“Now, dear mother, you shall hear my secret at last! I dreamed that I
+should become King of Hungary, and my dream has come true. When I was a
+child, and you begged me to tell you, I had to keep silence, or the
+Magyar king would have killed me. And if you had not beaten me nothing
+would have happened that has happened, and I should not now be King of
+Hungary.”
+
+[From the Folk Tales of the Magyars.]
+
+
+
+
+The Prince And The Dragon
+
+
+Once upon a time there lived an emperor who had three sons. They were
+all fine young men, and fond of hunting, and scarcely a day passed
+without one or other of them going out to look for game.
+
+One morning the eldest of the three princes mounted his horse and set
+out for a neighbouring forest, where wild animals of all sorts were to
+be found. He had not long left the castle, when a hare sprang out of a
+thicket and dashed across the road in front. The young man gave chase
+at once, and pursued it over hill and dale, till at last the hare took
+refuge in a mill which was standing by the side of a river. The prince
+followed and entered the mill, but stopped in terror by the door, for,
+instead of a hare, before him stood a dragon, breathing fire and flame.
+At this fearful sight the prince turned to fly, but a fiery tongue
+coiled round his waist, and drew him into the dragon’s mouth, and he
+was seen no more.
+
+A week passed away, and when the prince never came back everyone in the
+town began to grow uneasy. At last his next brother told the emperor
+that he likewise would go out to hunt, and that perhaps he would find
+some clue as to his brother’s disappearance. But hardly had the castle
+gates closed on the prince than the hare sprang out of the bushes as
+before, and led the huntsman up hill and down dale, till they reached
+the mill. Into this the hare flew with the prince at his heels, when,
+lo! instead of the hare, there stood a dragon breathing fire and flame;
+and out shot a fiery tongue which coiled round the prince’s waist, and
+lifted him straight into the dragon’s mouth, and he was seen no more.
+
+Days went by, and the emperor waited and waited for the sons who never
+came, and could not sleep at night for wondering where they were and
+what had become of them. His youngest son wished to go in search of his
+brothers, but for long the emperor refused to listen to him, lest he
+should lose him also. But the prince prayed so hard for leave to make
+the search, and promised so often that he would be very cautious and
+careful, that at length the emperor gave him permission, and ordered
+the best horse in the stables to be saddled for him.
+
+Full of hope the young prince started on his way, but no sooner was he
+outside the city walls than a hare sprang out of the bushes and ran
+before him, till they reached the mill. As before, the animal dashed in
+through the open door, but this time he was not followed by the prince.
+Wiser than his brothers, the young man turned away, saying to himself:
+“There are as good hares in the forest as any that have come out of it,
+and when I have caught them, I can come back and look for you.”
+
+For many hours he rode up and down the mountain, but saw nothing, and
+at last, tired of waiting, he went back to the mill. Here he found an
+old woman sitting, whom he greeted pleasantly.
+
+“Good morning to you, little mother,” he said; and the old woman
+answered: “Good morning, my son.”
+
+“Tell me, little mother,” went on the prince, “where shall I find my
+hare?”
+
+“My son,” replied the old woman, “that was no hare, but a dragon who
+has led many men hither, and then has eaten them all.” At these words
+the prince’s heart grew heavy, and he cried, “Then my brothers must
+have come here, and have been eaten by the dragon!”
+
+“You have guessed right,” answered the old woman; “and I can give you
+no better counsel than to go home at once, before the same fate
+overtakes you.”
+
+“Will you not come with me out of this dreadful place?” said the young
+man.
+
+“He took me prisoner, too,” answered she, “and I cannot shake off his
+chains.”
+
+“Then listen to me,” cried the prince. “When the dragon comes back, ask
+him where he always goes when he leaves here, and what makes him so
+strong; and when you have coaxed the secret from him, tell me the next
+time I come.”
+
+So the prince went home, and the old woman remained in the mill, and as
+soon as the dragon returned she said to him:
+
+“Where have you been all this time—you must have travelled far?”
+
+“Yes, little mother, I have indeed travelled far.” answered he. Then
+the old woman began to flatter him, and to praise his cleverness; and
+when she thought she had got him into a good temper, she said: “I have
+wondered so often where you get your strength from; I do wish you would
+tell me. I would stoop and kiss the place out of pure love!” The dragon
+laughed at this, and answered:
+
+“In the hearthstone yonder lies the secret of my strength.”
+
+Then the old woman jumped up and kissed the hearth; whereat the dragon
+laughed the more, and said:
+
+“You foolish creature! I was only jesting. It is not in the
+hearthstone, but in that tall tree that lies the secret of my
+strength.” Then the old woman jumped up again and put her arms round
+the tree, and kissed it heartily. Loudly laughed the dragon when he saw
+what she was doing.
+
+“Old fool,” he cried, as soon as he could speak, “did you really
+believe that my strength came from that tree?”
+
+“Where is it then?” asked the old woman, rather crossly, for she did
+not like being made fun of.
+
+“My strength,” replied the dragon, “lies far away; so far that you
+could never reach it. Far, far from here is a kingdom, and by its
+capital city is a lake, and in the lake is a dragon, and inside the
+dragon is a wild boar, and inside the wild boar is a pigeon, and inside
+the pigeon a sparrow, and inside the sparrow is my strength.” And when
+the old woman heard this, she thought it was no use flattering him any
+longer, for never, never, could she take his strength from him.
+
+The following morning, when the dragon had left the mill, the prince
+came back, and the old woman told him all that the creature had said.
+He listened in silence, and then returned to the castle, where he put
+on a suit of shepherd’s clothes, and taking a staff in his hand, he
+went forth to seek a place as tender of sheep.
+
+For some time he wandered from village to village and from town to
+town, till he came at length to a large city in a distant kingdom,
+surrounded on three sides by a great lake, which happened to be the
+very lake in which the dragon lived. As was his custom, he stopped
+everybody whom he met in the streets that looked likely to want a
+shepherd and begged them to engage him, but they all seemed to have
+shepherds of their own, or else not to need any. The prince was
+beginning to lose heart, when a man who had overheard his question
+turned round and said that he had better go and ask the emperor, as he
+was in search of some one to see after his flocks.
+
+“Will you take care of my sheep?” said the emperor, when the young man
+knelt before him.
+
+“Most willingly, your Majesty,” answered the young man, and he listened
+obediently while the emperor told him what he was to do.
+
+“Outside the city walls,” went on the emperor, “you will find a large
+lake, and by its banks lie the richest meadows in my kingdom. When you
+are leading out your flocks to pasture, they will all run straight to
+these meadows, and none that have gone there have ever been known to
+come back. Take heed, therefore, my son, not to suffer your sheep to go
+where they will, but drive them to any spot that you think best.”
+
+With a low bow the prince thanked the emperor for his warning, and
+promised to do his best to keep the sheep safe. Then he left the palace
+and went to the market-place, where he bought two greyhounds, a hawk,
+and a set of pipes; after that he took the sheep out to pasture. The
+instant the animals caught sight of the lake lying before them, they
+trotted off as fast as their legs would go to the green meadows lying
+round it. The prince did not try to stop them; he only placed his hawk
+on the branch of a tree, laid his pipes on the grass, and bade the
+greyhounds sit still; then, rolling up his sleeves and trousers, he
+waded into the water crying as he did so: “Dragon! dragon! if you are
+not a coward, come out and fight with me!” And a voice answered from
+the depths of the lake:
+
+“I am waiting for you, O prince”; and the next minute the dragon reared
+himself out of the water, huge and horrible to see. The prince sprang
+upon him and they grappled with each other and fought together till the
+sun was high, and it was noonday. Then the dragon gasped:
+
+“O prince, let me dip my burning head once into the lake, and I will
+hurl you up to the top of the sky.” But the prince answered, “Oh, ho!
+my good dragon, do not crow too soon! If the emperor’s daughter were
+only here, and would kiss me on the forehead, I would throw you up
+higher still!” And suddenly the dragon’s hold loosened, and he fell
+back into the lake.
+
+As soon as it was evening, the prince washed away all signs of the
+fight, took his hawk upon his shoulder, and his pipes under his arm,
+and with his greyhounds in front and his flock following after him he
+set out for the city. As they all passed through the streets the people
+stared in wonder, for never before had any flock returned from the
+lake.
+
+The next morning he rose early, and led his sheep down the road to the
+lake. This time, however, the emperor sent two men on horseback to ride
+behind him, with orders to watch the prince all day long. The horsemen
+kept the prince and his sheep in sight, without being seen themselves.
+As soon as they beheld the sheep running towards the meadows, they
+turned aside up a steep hill, which overhung the lake. When the
+shepherd reached the place he laid, as before, his pipes on the grass
+and bade the greyhounds sit beside them, while the hawk he perched on
+the branch of the tree. Then he rolled up his trousers and his sleeves,
+and waded into the water crying:
+
+“Dragon! dragon! if you are not a coward, come out and fight with me!”
+And the dragon answered:
+
+“I am waiting for you, O prince,” and the next minute he reared himself
+out of the water, huge and horrible to see. Again they clasped each
+other tight round the body and fought till it was noon, and when the
+sun was at its hottest, the dragon gasped:
+
+“O prince, let me dip my burning head once in the lake, and I will hurl
+you up to the top of the sky.” But the prince answered:
+
+“Oh, ho! my good dragon, do not crow too soon! If the emperor’s
+daughter were only here, and would kiss me on the forehead, I would
+throw you up higher still!” And suddenly the dragon’s hold loosened,
+and he fell back into the lake.
+
+As soon as it was evening the prince again collected his sheep, and
+playing on his pipes he marched before them into the city. When he
+passed through the gates all the people came out of their houses to
+stare in wonder, for never before had any flock returned from the lake.
+
+Meanwhile the two horsemen had ridden quickly back, and told the
+emperor all that they had seen and heard. The emperor listened eagerly
+to their tale, then called his daughter to him and repeated it to her.
+
+“To-morrow,” he said, when he had finished, “you shall go with the
+shepherd to the lake, and then you shall kiss him on the forehead as he
+wishes.”
+
+But when the princess heard these words, she burst into tears, and
+sobbed out:
+
+“Will you really send me, your only child, to that dreadful place, from
+which most likely I shall never come back?”
+
+“Fear nothing, my little daughter, all will be well. Many shepherds
+have gone to that lake and none have ever returned; but this one has in
+these two days fought twice with the dragon and has escaped without a
+wound. So I hope to-morrow he will kill the dragon altogether, and
+deliver this land from the monster who has slain so many of our bravest
+men.”
+
+Scarcely had the sun begun to peep over the hills next morning, when
+the princess stood by the shepherd’s side, ready to go to the lake. The
+shepherd was brimming over with joy, but the princess only wept
+bitterly. “Dry your tears, I implore you,” said he. “If you will just
+do what I ask you, and when the time comes, run and kiss my forehead,
+you have nothing to fear.”
+
+Merrily the shepherd blew on his pipes as he marched at the head of his
+flock, only stopping every now and then to say to the weeping girl at
+his side:
+
+“Do not cry so, Heart of Gold; trust me and fear nothing.” And so they
+reached the lake.
+
+In an instant the sheep were scattered all over the meadows, and the
+prince placed his hawk on the tree, and his pipes on the grass, while
+he bade his greyhounds lie beside them. Then he rolled up his trousers
+and his sleeves, and waded into the water, calling:
+
+“Dragon! dragon! if you are not a coward, come forth, and let us have
+one more fight together.” And the dragon answered: “I am waiting for
+you, O prince”; and the next minute he reared himself out of the water,
+huge and horrible to see. Swiftly he drew near to the bank, and the
+prince sprang to meet him, and they grasped each other round the body
+and fought till it was noon. And when the sun was at its hottest, the
+dragon cried:
+
+“O prince, let me dip my burning head in the lake, and I will hurl you
+to the top of the sky.” But the prince answered:
+
+“Oh, ho! my good dragon, do not crow too soon! If the emperor’s
+daughter were only here, and she would kiss my forehead, I would throw
+you higher still.”
+
+Hardly had he spoken, when the princess, who had been listening, ran up
+and kissed him on the forehead. Then the prince swung the dragon
+straight up into the clouds, and when he touched the earth again, he
+broke into a thousand pieces. Out of the pieces there sprang a wild
+boar and galloped away, but the prince called his hounds to give chase,
+and they caught the boar and tore it to bits. Out of the pieces there
+sprang a hare, and in a moment the greyhounds were after it, and they
+caught it and killed it; and out of the hare there came a pigeon.
+Quickly the prince let loose his hawk, which soared straight into the
+air, then swooped upon the bird and brought it to his master. The
+prince cut open its body and found the sparrow inside, as the old woman
+had said.
+
+“Now,” cried the prince, holding the sparrow in his hand, “now you
+shall tell me where I can find my brothers.”
+
+“Do not hurt me,” answered the sparrow, “and I will tell you with all
+my heart.” Behind your father’s castle stands a mill, and in the mill
+are three slender twigs. Cut off these twigs and strike their roots
+with them, and the iron door of a cellar will open. In the cellar you
+will find as many people, young and old, women and children, as would
+fill a kingdom, and among them are your brothers.”
+
+By this time twilight had fallen, so the prince washed himself in the
+lake, took the hawk on his shoulder and the pipes under his arm, and
+with his greyhounds before him and his flock behind him, marched gaily
+into the town, the princess following them all, still trembling with
+fright. And so they passed through the streets, thronged with a
+wondering crowd, till they reached the castle.
+
+Unknown to anyone, the emperor had stolen out on horseback, and had
+hidden himself on the hill, where he could see all that happened. When
+all was over, and the power of the dragon was broken for ever, he rode
+quickly back to the castle, and was ready to receive the prince with
+open arms, and to promise him his daughter to wife. The wedding took
+place with great splendour, and for a whole week the town was hung with
+coloured lamps, and tables were spread in the hall of the castle for
+all who chose to come and eat. And when the feast was over, the prince
+told the emperor and the people who he really was, and at this everyone
+rejoiced still more, and preparations were made for the prince and
+princess to return to their own kingdom, for the prince was impatient
+to set free his brothers.
+
+The first thing he did when he reached his native country was to hasten
+to the mill, where he found the three twigs as the sparrow had told
+him. The moment that he struck the root the iron door flew open, and
+from the cellar a countless multitude of men and women streamed forth.
+He bade them go one by one wheresoever they would, while he himself
+waited by the door till his brothers passed through. How delighted they
+were to meet again, and to hear all that the prince had done to deliver
+them from their enchantment. And they went home with him and served him
+all the days of their lives, for they said that he only who had proved
+himself brave and faithful was fit to be king.
+
+[From Volksmarehen der Serben.]
+
+
+
+
+Little Wildrose
+
+
+Once upon a time the things in this story happened, and if they had not
+happened then the story would never have been told. But that was the
+time when wolves and lambs lay peacefully together in one stall, and
+shepherds dined on grassy banks with kings and queens.
+
+Once upon a time, then, my dear good children, there lived a man. Now
+this man was really a hundred years old, if not fully twenty years
+more. And his wife was very old too—how old I do not know; but some
+said she was as old as the goddess Venus herself. They had been very
+happy all these years, but they would have been happier still if they
+had had any children; but old though they were they had never made up
+their minds to do without them, and often they would sit over the fire
+and talk of how they would have brought up their children if only some
+had come to their house.
+
+One day the old man seemed sadder and more thoughtful than was common
+with him, and at last he said to his wife: “Listen to me, old woman!”
+
+“What do you want?” asked she.
+
+“Get me some money out of the chest, for I am going a long journey—all
+through the world—to see if I cannot find a child, for my heart aches
+to think that after I am dead my house will fall into the hands of a
+stranger. And this let me tell you: that if I never find a child I
+shall not come home again.”
+
+Then the old man took a bag and filled it with food and money, and
+throwing it over his shoulders, bade his wife farewell.
+
+For long he wandered, and wandered, and wandered, but no child did he
+see; and one morning his wanderings led him to a forest which was so
+thick with trees that no light could pass through the branches. The old
+man stopped when he saw this dreadful place, and at first was afraid to
+go in; but he remembered that, after all, as the proverb says: “It is
+the unexpected that happens,” and perhaps in the midst of this black
+spot he might find the child he was seeking. So summoning up all his
+courage he plunged boldly in.
+
+How long he might have been walking there he never could have told you,
+when at last he reached the mouth of a cave where the darkness seemed a
+hundred times darker than the wood itself. Again he paused, but he felt
+as if something was driving him to enter, and with a beating heart he
+stepped in.
+
+For some minutes the silence and darkness so appalled him that he stood
+where he was, not daring to advance one step. Then he made a great
+effort and went on a few paces, and suddenly, far before him, he saw
+the glimmer of a light. This put new heart into him, and he directed
+his steps straight towards the faint rays, till he could see, sitting
+by it, an old hermit, with a long white beard.
+
+The hermit either did not hear the approach of his visitor, or
+pretended not to do so, for he took no notice, and continued to read
+his book. After waiting patiently for a little while, the old man fell
+on his knees, and said: “Good morning, holy father!” But he might as
+well have spoken to the rock. “Good morning, holy father,” he said
+again, a little louder than before, and this time the hermit made a
+sign to him to come nearer. “My son,” whispered he, in a voice that
+echoed through the cavern, “what brings you to this dark and dismal
+place? Hundreds of years have passed since my eyes have rested on the
+face of a man, and I did not think to look on one again.”.
+
+“My misery has brought me here,” replied the old man; “I have no child,
+and all our lives my wife and I have longed for one. So I left my home,
+and went out into the world, hoping that somewhere I might find what I
+was seeking.”
+
+Then the hermit picked up an apple from the ground, and gave it to him,
+saying: “Eat half of this apple, and give the rest to your wife, and
+cease wandering through the world.”
+
+The old man stooped and kissed the feet of the hermit for sheer joy,
+and left the cave. He made his way through the forest as fast as the
+darkness would let him, and at length arrived in flowery fields, which
+dazzled him with their brightness. Suddenly he was seized with a
+desperate thirst, and a burning in his throat. He looked for a stream
+but none was to be seen, and his tongue grew more parched every moment.
+At length his eyes fell on the apple, which all this while he had been
+holding in his hand, and in his thirst he forgot what the hermit had
+told him, and instead of eating merely his own half, he ate up the old
+woman’s also; after that he went to sleep.
+
+When he woke up he saw something strange lying on a bank a little way
+off, amidst long trails of pink roses. The old man got up, rubbed his
+eyes, and went to see what it was, when, to his surprise and joy, it
+proved to be a little girl about two years old, with a skin as pink and
+white as the roses above her. He took her gently in his arms, but she
+did not seem at all frightened, and only jumped and crowed with
+delight; and the old man wrapped his cloak round her, and set off for
+home as fast as his legs would carry him.
+
+When they were close to the cottage where they lived he laid the child
+in a pail that was standing near the door, and ran into the house,
+crying: “Come quickly, wife, quickly, for I have brought you a
+daughter, with hair of gold and eyes like stars!”
+
+At this wonderful news the old woman flew downstairs, almost tumbling
+down ill her eagerness to see the treasure; but when her husband led
+her to the pail it was perfectly empty! The old man was nearly beside
+himself with horror, while his wife sat down and sobbed with grief and
+disappointment. There was not a spot round about which they did not
+search, thinking that somehow the child might have got out of the pail
+and hidden itself for fun; but the little girl was not there, and there
+was no sign of her.
+
+“Where can she be?” moaned the old man, in despair. “Oh, why did I ever
+leave her, even for a moment? Have the fairies taken her, or has some
+wild beast carried her off?” And they began their search all over
+again; but neither fairies nor wild beasts did they meet with, and with
+sore hearts they gave it up at last and turned sadly into the hut.
+
+And what had become of the baby? Well, finding herself left alone in a
+strange place she began to cry with fright, and an eagle hovering near,
+heard her, and went to see what the sound came from. When he beheld the
+fat pink and white creature he thought of his hungry little ones at
+home, and swooping down he caught her up in his claws and was soon
+flying with her over the tops of the trees. In a few minutes he reached
+the one in which he had built his nest, and laying little Wildrose (for
+so the old man had called her) among his downy young eaglets, he flew
+away. The eaglets naturally were rather surprised at this strange
+animal, so suddenly popped down in their midst, but instead of
+beginning to eat her, as their father expected, they nestled up close
+to her and spread out their tiny wings to shield her from the sun.
+
+Now, in the depths of the forest where the eagle had built his nest,
+there ran a stream whose waters were poisonous, and on the banks of
+this stream dwelt a horrible lindworm with seven heads. The lindworm
+had often watched the eagle flying about the top of the tree, carrying
+food to his young ones and, accordingly, he watched carefully for the
+moment when the eaglets began to try their wings and to fly away from
+the nest. Of course, if the eagle himself was there to protect them
+even the lindworm, big and strong as he was, knew that he could do
+nothing; but when he was absent, any little eaglets who ventured too
+near the ground would be sure to disappear down the monster’s throat.
+Their brothers, who had been left behind as too young and weak to see
+the world, knew nothing of all this, but supposed their turn would soon
+come to see the world also. And in a few days their eyes, too, opened
+and their wings flapped impatiently, and they longed to fly away above
+the waving tree-tops to mountain and the bright sun beyond. But that
+very midnight the lindworm, who was hungry and could not wait for his
+supper, came out of the brook with a rushing noise, and made straight
+for the tree. Two eyes of flame came creeping nearer, nearer, and two
+fiery tongues were stretching themselves out closer, closer, to the
+little birds who were trembling and shuddering in the farthest corner
+of the nest. But just as the tongues had almost reached them, the
+lindworm gave a fearful cry, and turned and fell backwards. Then came
+the sound of battle from the ground below, and the tree shook, though
+there was no wind, and roars and snarls mixed together, till the
+eaglets felt more frightened than ever, and thought their last hour had
+come. Only Wildrose was undisturbed, and slept sweetly through it all.
+
+In the morning the eagle returned and saw traces of a fight below the
+tree, and here and there a handful of yellow mane lying about, and here
+and there a hard scaly substance; when he saw that he rejoiced greatly,
+and hastened to the nest.
+
+“Who has slain the lindworm?” he asked of his children; there were so
+many that he did not at first miss the two which the lindworm had
+eaten. But the eaglets answered that they could not tell, only that
+they had been in danger of their lives, and at the last moment they had
+been delivered. Then the sunbeam had struggled through the thick
+branches and caught Wildrose’s golden hair as she lay curled up in the
+corner, and the eagle wondered, as he looked, whether the little girl
+had brought him luck, and it was her magic which had killed his enemy.
+
+“Children,” he said, “I brought her here for your dinner, and you have
+not touched her; what is the meaning of this?” But the eaglets did not
+answer, and Wildrose opened her eyes, and seemed seven times lovelier
+than before.
+
+From that day Wildrose lived like a little princess. The eagle flew
+about the wood and collected the softest, greenest moss he could find
+to make her a bed, and then he picked with his beak all the brightest
+and prettiest flowers in the fields or on the mountains to decorate it.
+So cleverly did he manage it that there was not a fairy in the whole of
+the forest who would not have been pleased to sleep there, rocked to
+and fro by the breeze on the treetops. And when the little ones were
+able to fly from their nest he taught them where to look for the fruits
+and berries which she loved.
+
+So the time passed by, and with each year Wildrose grew taller and more
+beautiful, and she lived happily in her nest and never wanted to go out
+of it, only standing at the edge in the sunset, and looking upon the
+beautiful world. For company she had all the birds in the forest, who
+came and talked to her, and for playthings the strange flowers which
+they brought her from far, and the butterflies which danced with her.
+And so the days slipped away, and she was fourteen years old.
+
+One morning the emperor’s son went out to hunt, and he had not ridden
+far, before a deer started from under a grove of trees, and ran before
+him. The prince instantly gave chase, and where the stag led he
+followed, till at length he found himself in the depths of the forest,
+where no man before had trod.
+
+The trees were so thick and the wood so dark, that he paused for a
+moment and listened, straining his ears to catch some sound to break a
+silence which almost frightened him. But nothing came, not even the
+baying of a hound or the note of a horn. He stood still, and wondered
+if he should go on, when, on looking up, a stream of light seemed to
+flow from the top of a tall tree. In its rays he could see the nest
+with the young eaglets, who were watching him over the side. The prince
+fitted an arrow into his bow and took his aim, but, before he could let
+fly, another ray of light dazzled him; so brilliant was it, that his
+bow dropped, and he covered his face with his hands. When at last he
+ventured to peep, Wildrose, with her golden hair flowing round her, was
+looking at him. This was the first time she had seen a man.
+
+“Tell me how I can reach you?” cried he; but Wildrose smiled and shook
+her head, and sat down quietly.
+
+The prince saw that it was no use, and turned and made his way out of
+the forest. But he might as well have stayed there, for any good he was
+to his father, so full was his heart of longing for Wildrose. Twice he
+returned to the forest in the hopes of finding her, but this time
+fortune failed him, and he went home as sad as ever.
+
+At length the emperor, who could not think what had caused this change,
+sent for his son and asked him what was the matter. Then the prince
+confessed that the image of Wildrose filled his soul, and that he would
+never be happy without her. At first the emperor felt rather
+distressed. He doubted whether a girl from a tree top would make a good
+empress; but he loved his son so much that he promised to do all he
+could to find her. So the next morning heralds were sent forth
+throughout the whole land to inquire if anyone knew where a maiden
+could be found who lived in a forest on the top of a tree, and to
+promise great riches and a place at court to any person who should find
+her. But nobody knew. All the girls in the kingdom had their homes on
+the ground, and laughed at the notion of being brought up in a tree. “A
+nice kind of empress she would make,” they said, as the emperor had
+done, tossing their heads with disdain; for, having read many books,
+they guessed what she was wanted for.
+
+The heralds were almost in despair, when an old woman stepped out of
+the crowd and came and spoke to them. She was not only very old, but
+she was very ugly, with a hump on her back and a bald head, and when
+the heralds saw her they broke into rude laughter. “I can show you the
+maiden who lives in the tree-top,” she said, but they only laughed the
+more loudly.
+
+“Get away, old witch!” they cried, “you will bring us bad luck”; but
+the old woman stood firm, and declared that she alone knew where to
+find the maiden.
+
+“Go with her,” said the eldest of the heralds at last. “The emperor’s
+orders are clear, that whoever knew anything of the maiden was to come
+at once to court. Put her in the coach and take her with us.”
+
+So in this fashion the old woman was brought to court.
+
+“You have declared that you can bring hither the maiden from the wood?”
+said the emperor, who was seated on his throne.
+
+“Yes, your Majesty, and I will keep my word,” said she.
+
+“Then bring her at once,” said the emperor.
+
+“Give me first a kettle and a tripod,” asked the old w omen, and the
+emperor ordered them to be brought instantly. The old woman picked them
+up, and tucking them under her arm went on her way, keeping at a little
+distance behind the royal huntsmen, who in their turn followed the
+prince.
+
+Oh, what a noise that old woman made as she walked along! She chattered
+to herself so fast and clattered her kettle so loudly that you would
+have thought that a whole campful of gipsies must be coming round the
+next corner. But when they reached the forest, she bade them all wait
+outside, and entered the dark wood by herself.
+
+She stopped underneath the tree where the maiden dwelt and, gathering
+some dry sticks, kindled a fire. Next, she placed the tripod over it,
+and the kettle on top. But something was the matter with the kettle. As
+fast as the old woman put it where it was to stand, that kettle was
+sure to roll off, falling to the ground with a crash.
+
+It really seemed bewitched, and no one knows what might have happened
+if Wildrose, who had been all the time peeping out of her nest, had not
+lost patience at the old woman’s stupidity, and cried out: “The tripod
+won’t stand on that hill, you must move it!”
+
+“But where am I to move it to, my child?” asked the old woman, looking
+up to the nest, and at the same moment trying to steady the kettle with
+one hand and the tripod with the other.
+
+“Didn’t I tell you that it was no good doing that,” said Wildrose, more
+impatiently than before. “Make a fire near a tree and hang the kettle
+from one of the branches.”
+
+The old woman took the kettle and hung it on a little twig, which broke
+at once, and the kettle fell to the ground.
+
+“If you would only show me how to do it, perhaps I should understand,”
+said she.
+
+Quick as thought, the maiden slid down the smooth trunk of the tree,
+and stood beside the stupid old woman, to teach her how things ought to
+be done. But in an instant the old woman had caught up the girl and
+swung her over her shoulders, and was running as fast as she could go
+to the edge of the forest, where she had left the prince. When he saw
+them coming he rushed eagerly to meet them, and he took the maiden in
+his arms and kissed her tenderly before them all. Then a golden dress
+was put on her, and pearls were twined in her hair, and she took her
+seat in the emperor’s carriage which was drawn by six of the whitest
+horses in the world, and they carried her, without stopping to draw
+breath, to the gates of the palace. And in three days the wedding was
+celebrated, and the wedding feast was held, and everyone who saw the
+bride declared that if anybody wanted a perfect wife they must go to
+seek her on top of a tree.
+
+[ Adapted from file Roumanian.]
+
+
+
+
+Tiidu The Piper
+
+
+Once upon a time there lived a poor man who had more children than
+bread to feed them with. However, they were strong and willing, and
+soon learned to make themselves of use to their father and mother, and
+when they were old enough they went out to service, and everyone was
+very glad to get them for servants, for they worked hard and were
+always cheerful. Out of all the ten or eleven, there was only one who
+gave his parents any trouble, and this was a big lazy boy whose name
+was Tiidu. Neither scoldings nor beatings nor kind words had any effect
+on him, and the older he grew the idler he got. He spent his winters
+crouching close to a warm stove, and his summers asleep under a shady
+tree; and if he was not doing either of these things he was playing
+tunes on his flute.
+
+One day he was sitting under a bush playing so sweetly that you might
+easily have mistaken the notes for those of a bird, when an old man
+passed by. “What trade do you wish to follow, my son?” he asked in a
+friendly voice, stopping as he did so in front of the youth.
+
+“If I were only a rich man, and had no need to work,” replied the boy,
+“I should not follow any. I could not bear to be anybody’s servant, as
+all my brothers and sisters are.”
+
+The old man laughed as he heard this answer, and said: “But I do not
+exactly see where your riches are to come from if you do not work for
+them. Sleeping cats catch no mice. He who wishes to become rich must
+use either his hands or his head, and be ready to toil night and day,
+or else—”
+
+But here the youth broke in rudely:
+
+“Be silent, old man! I have been told all that a hundred times over;
+and it runs off me like water off a duck’s back. No one will ever make
+a worker out of me.”
+
+“You have one gift,” replied the old man, taking no notice of this
+speech, “and if you would only go about and play the pipes, you would
+easily earn, not only your daily bread, but a little money into the
+bargain. Listen to me; get yourself a set of pipes, and learn to play
+on them as well as you do on your flute, and wherever there are men to
+hear you, I promise you will never lack money.”
+
+“But where am I to get the pipes from?” asked the youth.
+
+“Blow on your flute for a few days,” replied the old man, “and you will
+soon be able to buy your pipes. By-and-by I will come back again and
+see if you have taken my advice, and whether you are likely to grow
+rich.” And so saying he went his way.
+
+Tiidu stayed where he was a little longer, thinking of all the old man
+had told him, and the more he thought the surer he felt that the old
+man was right. He determined to try whether his plan would really bring
+luck; but as he did not like being laughed at he resolved not to tell
+anyone a word about it. So next morning he left home—and never came
+back! His parents did not take his loss much to heart, but were rather
+glad that their useless son had for once shown a little spirit, and
+they hoped that time and hardship might cure Tiidu of his idle folly.
+
+For some weeks Tiidu wandered from one village to another, and proved
+for himself the truth of the old man’s promise. The people he met were
+all friendly and kind, and enjoyed his flute-playing, giving him his
+food in return, and even a few pence. These pence the youth hoarded
+carefully till he had collected enough to buy a beautiful pair of
+pipes. Then he felt himself indeed on the high road to riches. Nowhere
+could pipes be found as fine as his, or played in so masterly a manner.
+Tiidu’s pipes set everybody’s legs dancing. Wherever there was a
+marriage, a christening, or a feast of any kind, Tiidu must be there,
+or the evening would be a failure. In a few years he had become so
+noted a piper that people would travel far and wide to hear him.
+
+One day he was invited to a christening where many rich men from the
+neighbouring town were present, and all agreed that never in all their
+lives had they heard such playing as his. They crowded round him, and
+praised him, and pressed him to come to their homes, declaring that it
+was a shame not to give their friends the chance of hearing such music.
+Of course all this delighted Tiidu, who accepted gladly, and left their
+houses laden with money and presents of every kind; one great lord
+clothed him in a magnificent dress, a second hung a chain of pearls
+round his neck, while a third handed him a set of new pipes encrusted
+in silver. As for the ladies, the girls twisted silken scarves round
+his plumed hat, and their mothers knitted him gloves of all colours, to
+keep out the cold. Any other man in Tiidu’s place would have been
+contented and happy in this life; but his craving for riches gave him
+no rest, and only goaded him day by day to fresh exertions, so that
+even his own mother would not have known him for the lazy boy who was
+always lying asleep in one place or the other.
+
+Now Tiidu saw quite clearly that he could only hope to become rich by
+means of his pipes, and set about thinking if there was nothing he
+could do to make the money flow in faster. At length he remembered
+having heard some stories of a kingdom in the Kungla country, where
+musicians of all sorts were welcomed and highly paid; but where it was,
+or how it was reached, he could not recollect, however hard he thought.
+In despair, he wandered along the coast, hoping to see some ship or
+sailing boat that would take him where he wished to go, and at length
+he reached the town of Narva, where several merchantmen were lying at
+anchor. To his great joy, he found that one of them was sailing for
+Kungla in a few days, and he hastily went on board, and asked for the
+captain. But the cost of the passage was more than the prudent Tiidu
+cared to pay, and though he played his best on his pipes, the captain
+refused to lower his price, and Tiidu was just thinking of returning on
+shore when his usual luck flew to his aid. A young sailor, who had
+heard him play, came secretly to him, and offered to hide him on board,
+in the absence of the captain. So the next night, as soon as it was
+dark, Tiidu stepped softly on deck, and was hidden by his friend down
+in the hold in a corner between two casks. Unseen by the rest of the
+crew the sailor managed to bring him food and drink, and when they were
+well out of sight of land he proceeded to carry out a plan he had
+invented to deliver Tiidu from his cramped quarters. At midnight, while
+he was keeping watch and everyone else was sleeping, the man bade his
+friend Tiidu follow him on deck, where he tied a rope round Tiidu’s
+body, fastening the other end carefully to one of the ship’s ropes.
+“Now,” he said, “I will throw you into the sea, and you must shout for
+help; and when you see the sailors coming untie the rope from your
+waist, and tell them that you have swum after the ship all the way from
+shore.”
+
+At first Tiidu did not much like this scheme, for the sea ran high, but
+he was a good swimmer, and the sailor assured him that there was no
+danger. As soon as he was in the water, his friend hastened to rouse
+his mates, declaring that he was sure that there was a man in the sea,
+following the ship. They all came on deck, and what was their surprise
+when they recognised the person who had bargained about a passage the
+previous day with the captain.
+
+“Are you a ghost, or a dying man?” they asked him trembling, as they
+stooped over the side of the ship.
+
+“I shall soon indeed be a dead man if you do not help me,” answered
+Tiidu, “for my strength is going fast.”
+
+Then the captain seized a rope and flung it out to him, and Tiidu held
+it between his teeth, while, unseen by the sailors; he loosed the one
+tied round his waist.
+
+“Where have you come from?” said the captain, when Tiidu was brought up
+on board the ship.
+
+“I have followed you from the harbour,” answered he, “and have been
+often in sore dread lest my strength should fail me. I hoped that by
+swimming after the ship I might at last reach Kungla, as I had no money
+to pay my passage.” The captain’s heart melted at these words, and he
+said kindly: “You may be thankful that you were not drowned. I will
+land you at Kungla free of payment, as you are so anxious to get there.
+So he gave him dry clothes to wear, and a berth to sleep in, and Tiidu
+and his friend secretly made merry over their cunning trick.
+
+For the rest of the voyage the ship’s crew treated Tiidu as something
+higher than themselves, seeing that in all their lives they had never
+met with any man that could swim for as many hours as he had done. This
+pleased Tiidu very much, though he knew that he had really done nothing
+to deserve it, and in return he delighted them by tunes on his pipes.
+When, after some days, they cast anchor at Kungla, the story of his
+wonderful swim brought him many friends, for everybody wished to hear
+him tell the tale himself. This might have been all very well, had not
+Tiidu lived in dread that some day he would be asked to give proof of
+his marvellous swimming powers, and then everything would be found out.
+Meanwhile he was dazzled with the splendour around him, and more than
+ever he longed for part of the riches, about which the owners seemed to
+care so little.
+
+He wandered through the streets for many days, seeking some one who
+wanted a servant; but though more than one person would have been glad
+to engage him, they seemed to Tiidu not the sort of people to help him
+to get rich quickly. At last, when he had almost made up his mind that
+he must accept the next place offered him, he happened to knock at the
+door of a rich merchant who was in need of a scullion, and gladly
+agreed to do the cook’s bidding, and it was in this merchant’s house
+that he first learned how great were the riches of the land of Kungla.
+All the vessels which in other countries are made of iron, copper,
+brass, or tin, in Kungla were made of silver, or even of gold. The food
+was cooked in silver saucepans, the bread baked in a silver oven, while
+the dishes and their covers were all of gold. Even the very pigs’
+troughs were of silver too. But the sight of these things only made
+Tiidu more covetous than before. “What is the use of all this wealth
+that I have constantly before my eyes,” thought he, “if none of it is
+mine? I shall never grow rich by what I earn as a scullion, even though
+I am paid as much in a month as I should get elsewhere in a year.”
+
+By this time he had been in his place for two years, and had put by
+quite a large sum of money. His passion of saving had increased to such
+a pitch that it was only by his master’s orders that he ever bought any
+new clothes, “For,” said the merchant, “I will not have dirty people in
+my house.” So with a heavy heart Tiidu spent some of his next month’s
+wages on a cheap coat.
+
+One day the merchant held a great feast in honour of the christening of
+his youngest child, and he gave each of his servants a handsome garment
+for the occasion. The following Sunday, Tiidu, who liked fine clothes
+when he did not have to pay for them, put on his new coat, and went for
+a walk to some beautiful pleasure gardens, which were always full of
+people on a sunny day. He sat down under a shady tree, and watched the
+passers-by, but after a little he began to feel rather lonely, for he
+knew nobody and nobody knew him. Suddenly his eyes fell on the figure
+of an old man, which seemed familiar to him, though he could not tell
+when or where he had seen it. He watched the figure for some time, till
+at length the old man left the crowded paths, and threw himself on the
+soft grass under a lime tree, which stood at some distance from where
+Tiidu was sitting. Then the young man walked slowly past, in order that
+he might look at him more closely, and as he did so the old man smiled,
+and held out his hand.
+
+“What have you done with your pipes?” asked he; and then in a moment
+Tiidu knew him. Taking his arm he drew him into a quiet place and told
+him all that had happened since they had last met. The old man shook
+his head as he listened, and when Tiidu had finished his tale, he said:
+“A fool you are, and a fool you will always be! Was there ever such a
+piece of folly as to exchange your pipes for a scullion’s ladle? You
+could have made as much by the pipes in a day as your wages would have
+come to in half a year. Go home and fetch your pipes, and play them
+here, and you will soon see if I have spoken the truth.”
+
+Tiidu did not like this advice—he was afraid that the people would
+laugh at him; and, besides, it was long since he had touched his
+pipes—but the old man persisted, and at last Tiidu did as he was told.
+
+“Sit down on the bank by me,” said the old man, when he came back, “and
+begin to play, and in a little while the people will flock round you.”
+Tiidu obeyed, at first without much heart; but somehow the tone of the
+pipes was sweeter than he had remembered, and as he played, the crowd
+ceased to walk and chatter, and stood still and silent round him. When
+he had played for some time he took off his hat and passed it round,
+and dollars, and small silver coins, and even gold pieces, came
+tumbling in. Tiidu played a couple more tunes by way of thanks, then
+turned to go home, hearing on all sides murmurs of “What a wonderful
+piper! Come back, we pray you, next Sunday to give us another treat.”
+
+“What did I tell you?” said the old man, as they passed through the
+garden gate. “Was it not pleasanter to play for a couple of hours on
+the pipes than to be stirring sauces all day long? For the second time
+I have shown you the path to follow; try to learn wisdom, and take the
+bull by the horns, lest your luck should slip from you! I can be your
+guide no longer, therefore listen to what I say, and obey me. Go every
+Sunday afternoon to those gardens; and sit under the lime tree and play
+to the people, and bring a felt hat with a deep crown, and lay it on
+the ground at your feet, so that everyone can throw some money into it.
+If you are invited to play at a feast, accept willingly, but beware of
+asking a fixed price; say you will take whatever they may feel inclined
+to give. You will get far more money in the end. Perhaps, some day, our
+paths may cross, and then I shall see how far you have followed my
+advice. Till then, farewell”; and the old man went his way.
+
+As before, his words came true, though Tiidu could not at once do his
+bidding, as he had first to fulfil his appointed time of service.
+Meanwhile he ordered some fine clothes, in which he played every Sunday
+in the gardens, and when he counted his gains in the evening they were
+always more than on the Sunday before. At length he was free to do as
+he liked, and he had more invitations to play than he could manage to
+accept, and at night, when the citizens used to go and drink in the
+inn, the landlord always begged Tiidu to come and play to them. Thus he
+grew so rich that very soon he had his silver pipes covered with gold,
+so that they glistened in the light of the sun or the fire. In all
+Kungla there was no prouder man than Tiidu.
+
+In a few years he had saved such a large sum of money that he was
+considered a rich man even in Kungla, where everybody was rich. And
+then he had leisure to remember that he had once had a home, and a
+family, and that he should like to see them both again, and show them
+how well he could play. This time he would not need to hide in the
+ship’s hold, but could hire the best cabin if he wished to, or even
+have a vessel all to himself. So he packed all his treasures in large
+chests, and sent them on board the first ship that was sailing to his
+native land, and followed them with a light heart. The wind at starting
+was fair, but it soon freshened, and in the night rose to a gale. For
+two days they ran before it, and hoped that by keeping well out to sea
+they might be able to weather the storm, when, suddenly, the ship
+struck on a rock, and began to fill. Orders were given to lower the
+boats, and Tiidu with three sailors got into one of them, but before
+they could push away from the ship a huge wave overturned it, and all
+four were flung into the water. Luckily for Tiidu an oar was floating
+near him, and with its help he was able to keep on the surface of the
+water; and when the sun rose, and the mist cleared away, he saw that he
+was not far from shore. By hard swimming, for the sea still ran high,
+he managed to reach it, and pulled himself out of the water, more dead
+than alive. Then he flung himself down on the ground and fell fast
+asleep.
+
+When he awoke he got up to explore the island, and see if there were
+any men upon it; but though he found streams and fruit trees in
+abundance, there was no trace either of man or beast. Then, tired with
+his wanderings he sat down and began to think.
+
+For perhaps the first time in his life his thoughts did not instantly
+turn to money. It was not on his lost treasures that his mind dwelt,
+but on his conduct to his parents: his laziness and disobedience as a
+boy; his forgetfulness of them as a man. “If wild animals were to come
+and tear me to pieces,” he said to himself bitterly, “it would be only
+what I deserve! My gains are all at the bottom of the sea—well! lightly
+won, lightly lost—but it is odd that I feel I should not care for that
+if only my pipes were left me.” Then he rose and walked a little
+further, till he saw a tree with great red apples shining amidst the
+leaves, and he pulled some down, and ate them greedily. After that he
+stretched himself out on the soft moss and went to sleep.
+
+In the morning he ran to the nearest stream to wash himself, but to his
+horror, when he caught sight of his face, he saw his nose had grown the
+colour of an apple, and reached nearly to his waist. He started back
+thinking he was dreaming, and put up his hand; but, alas! the dreadful
+thing was true. “Oh, why does not some wild beast devour me?” he cried
+to himself; “never, never, can I go again amongst my fellow-men! If
+only the sea had swallowed me up, how much happier it had been for me!”
+And he hid his head in his hands and wept. His grief was so violent,
+that it exhausted him, and growing hungry he looked about for something
+to eat. Just above him was a bough of ripe, brown nuts, end he picked
+them and ate a handful. To his surprise, as he was eating them, he felt
+his nose grow shorter and shorter, and after a while he ventured to
+feel it with his hand, and even to look in the stream again! Yes, there
+was no mistake, it was as short as before, or perhaps a little shorter.
+In his joy at this discovery Tiidu did a very bold thing. He took one
+of the apples out of his pocket, and cautiously bit a piece out of it.
+In an instant his nose was as long as his chin, and in a deadly fear
+lest it should stretch further, he hastily swallowed a nut, and awaited
+the result with terror. Supposing that the shrinking of his nose had
+only been an accident before! Supposing that that nut and no other was
+able to cause its shrinking! In that case he had, by his own folly, in
+not letting well alone, ruined his life completely. But, no! he had
+guessed rightly, for in no more time than his nose had taken to grow
+long did it take to return to its proper size. “This may make my
+fortune,” he said joyfully to himself; and he gathered some of the
+apples, which he put into one pocket, and a good supply of nuts which
+he put into the other. Next day he wove a basket out of some rushes, so
+that if he ever left the island he might be able to carry his treasures
+about.
+
+That night he dreamed that his friend the old man appeared to him and
+said: “Because you did not mourn for your lost treasure, but only for
+your pipes, I will give you a new set to replace them.” And, behold! in
+the morning when he got up a set of pipes was lying in the basket. With
+what joy did he seize them and begin one of his favourite tunes; and as
+he played hope sprang up in his heart, and he looked out to sea, to try
+to detect the sign of a sail. Yes! there it was, making straight for
+the island; and Tiidu, holding his pipes in his hand, dashed down to
+the shore.
+
+The sailors knew the island to be uninhabited, and were much surprised
+to see a man standing on the beach, waving his arms in welcome to them.
+A boat was put off, and two sailors rowed to the shore to discover how
+he came there, and if he wished to be taken away. Tiidu told them the
+story of his shipwreck, and the captain promised that he should come on
+board, and sail with them back to Kungla; and thankful indeed was Tiidu
+to accept the offer, and to show his gratitude by playing on his pipes
+whenever he was asked to do so.
+
+They had a quick voyage, and it was not long before Tiidu found himself
+again in the streets of the capital of Kungla, playing as he went
+along. The people had heard no music like his since he went away, and
+they crowded round him, and in their joy gave him whatever money they
+had in their pockets. His first care was to buy himself some new
+clothes, which he sadly needed, taking care, however, that they should
+be made after a foreign fashion. When they were ready, he set out one
+day with a small basket of his famous apples, and went up to the
+palace. He did not have to wait long before one of the royal servants
+passed by and bought all the apples, begging as he did so that the
+merchant should return and bring some more. This Tiidu promised, and
+hastened away as if he had a mad bull behind him, so afraid was he that
+the man should begin to eat an apple at once.
+
+It is needless to say that for some days he took no more apples back to
+the palace, but kept well away on the other side of the town, wearing
+other clothes, and disguised by a long black beard, so that even his
+own mother would not have known him.
+
+The morning after his visit to the castle the whole city was in an
+uproar about the dreadful misfortune that had happened to the Royal
+Family, for not only the king but his wife and children, had eaten of
+the stranger’s apples, and all, so said the rumour, were very ill. The
+most famous doctors and the greatest magicians were hastily summoned to
+the palace, but they shook their heads and came away again; never had
+they met with such a disease in all the course of their experience.
+By-and-bye a story went round the town, started no one knew how, that
+the malady was in some way connected with the nose; and men rubbed
+their own anxiously, to be sure that nothing catching was in the air.
+
+Matters had been in this state for more than a week when it reached the
+ears of the king that a man was living in an inn on the other side of
+the town who declared himself able to cure all manner of diseases.
+Instantly the royal carriage was commanded to drive with all speed and
+bring back this magician, offering him riches untold if he could
+restore their noses to their former length. Tiidu had expected this
+summons, and had sat up all night changing his appearance, and so well
+had he succeeded that not a trace remained either of the piper or of
+the apple seller. He stepped into the carriage, and was driven post
+haste to the king, who was feverishly counting every moment, for both
+his nose and the queen’s were by this time more than a yard long, and
+they did not know where they would stop.
+
+Now Tiidu thought it would not look well to cure the royal family by
+giving them the raw nuts; he felt that it might arouse suspicion. So he
+had carefully pounded them into a powder, and divided the powder up
+into small doses, which were to be put on the tongue and swallowed at
+once. He gave one of these to the king and another to the queen, and
+told them that before taking them they were to get into bed in a dark
+room and not to move for some hours, after which they might be sure
+that they would come out cured.
+
+The king’s joy was so great at this news that he would gladly have
+given Tiidu half of his kingdom; but the piper was no longer so greedy
+of money as he once was, before he had been shipwrecked on the island.
+If he could get enough to buy a small estate and live comfortably on it
+for the rest of his life, that was all he now cared for. However, the
+king ordered his treasure to pay him three times as much as he asked,
+and with this Tiidu went down to the harbour and engaged a small ship
+to carry him back to his native country. The wind was fair, and in ten
+days the coast, which he had almost forgotten, stood clear before him.
+In a few hours he was standing in his old home, where his father, three
+sisters, and two brothers gave him a hearty welcome. His mother and his
+other brothers had died some years before.
+
+When the meeting was over, he began to make inquiries about a small
+estate that was for sale near the town, and after he had bought it the
+next thing was to find a wife to share it with him. This did not take
+long either; and people who were at the wedding feast declared that the
+best part of the whole day was the hour when Tiidu played to them on
+the pipes before they bade each other farewell and returned to their
+homes.
+
+[From Esthnische Mährchen.]
+
+
+
+
+Paperarelloo
+
+
+Once upon a time there lived a king and a queen who had one son. The
+king loved the boy very much, but the queen, who was a wicked woman,
+hated the sight of him; and this was the more unlucky for, when he was
+twelve years old, his father died, and he was left alone in the world.
+
+Now the queen was very angry because the people, who knew how bad she
+was, seated her son on the throne instead of herself, and she never
+rested till she had formed a plan to get him out of the way.
+Fortunately, however, the young king was wise and prudent, and knew her
+too well to trust her.
+
+One day, when his mourning was over, he gave orders that everything
+should be made ready for a grand hunt. The queen pretended to be
+greatly delighted that he was going to amuse himself once more, and
+declared that she would accompany him. “No, mother, I cannot let you
+come,” he answered; “the ground is rough, and you are not strong.” But
+he might as well have spoken to the winds: when the horn was sounded at
+daybreak the queen was there with the rest.
+
+All that day they rode, for game was plentiful, but towards evening the
+mother and son found themselves alone in a part of the country that was
+strange to them. They wandered on for some time, without knowing where
+they were going, till they met with a man whom they begged to give them
+shelter. “Come with me,” said the man gladly, for he was an ogre, and
+fed on human flesh; and the king and his mother went with him, and he
+led them to his house. When they got there they found to what a
+dreadful place they had come, and, falling on their knees, they offered
+him great sums of money, if he would only spare their lives. The ogre’s
+heart was moved at the sight of the queen’s beauty, and he promised
+that he would do her no harm; but he stabbed the boy at once, and
+binding his body on a horse, turned him loose in the forest.
+
+The ogre had happened to choose a horse which he had bought only the
+day before, and he did not know it was a magician, or he would not have
+been so foolish as to fix upon it on this occasion. The horse no sooner
+had been driven off with the prince’s body on its back than it galloped
+straight to the home of the fairies, and knocked at the door with its
+hoof. The fairies heard the knock, but were afraid to open till they
+had peeped from an upper window to see that it was no giant or ogre who
+could do them harm. “Oh, look, sister!” cried the first to reach the
+window, “it is a horse that has knocked, and on its back there is bound
+a dead boy, the most beautiful boy in all the world!” Then the fairies
+ran to open the door, and let in the horse and unbound the ropes which
+fastened the young king on its back. And they gathered round to admire
+his beauty, and whispered one to the other: “We will make him alive
+again, and will keep him for our brother.” And so they did, and for
+many years they all lived together as brothers and sisters.
+
+By-and-by the boy grew into a man, as boys will, and then the oldest of
+the fairies said to her sisters: “Now I will marry him, and he shall be
+really your brother.” So the young king married the fairy, and they
+lived happily together in the castle; but though he loved his wife he
+still longed to see the world.
+
+At length this longing grew so strong on him that he could bear it no
+more; and, calling the fairies together, he said to them: “Dear wife
+and sisters, I must leave you for a time, and go out and see the world.
+But I shall think of you often, and one day I shall come back to you.”
+
+The fairies wept and begged him to stay, but he would not listen, and
+at last the eldest, who was his wife, said to him: “If you really will
+abandon us, take this lock of my hair with you; you will find it useful
+in time of need.” So she cut off a long curl, and handed it to him.
+
+The prince mounted his horse, and rode on all day without stopping
+once. Towards evening he found himself in a desert, and, look where he
+would, there was no such thing as a house or a man to be seen. “What am
+I to do now?” he thought. “If I go to sleep here wild beasts will come
+and eat me! Yet both I and my horse are worn out, and can go no
+further.” Then suddenly he remembered the fairy’s gift, and taking out
+the curl he said to it: “I want a castle here, and servants, and
+dinner, and everything to make me comfortable tonight; and besides
+that, I must have a stable and fodder for my horse.” And in a moment
+the castle was before him just as he had wished.
+
+In this way he travelled through many countries, till at last he came
+to a land that was ruled over by a great king. Leaving his horse
+outside the walls, he clad himself in the dress of a poor man, and went
+up to the palace. The queen, who was looking out of the window, saw him
+approaching, and filled with pity sent a servant to ask who he was and
+what he wanted. “I am a stranger here,” answered the young king, “and
+very poor. I have come to beg for some work.” “We have everybody we
+want,” said the queen, when the servant told her the young man’s reply.
+“We have a gate-keeper, and a hall porter, and servants of all sorts in
+the palace; the only person we have not got is a goose-boy. Tell him
+that he can be our goose-boy if he likes.” The youth answered that he
+was quite content to be goose-boy; and that was how he got his nickname
+of Paperarello. And in order that no one should guess that he was any
+better than a goose-boy should be, he rubbed his face and his rags over
+with mud, and made himself altogether such a disgusting object that
+every one crossed over to the other side of the road when he was seen
+coming.
+
+“Do go and wash yourself, Paperarello!” said the queen sometimes, for
+he did his work so well that she took an interest in him. “Oh, I should
+not feel comfortable if I was clean, your Majesty,” answered he, and
+went whistling after his geese.
+
+It happened one day that, owing to some accident to the great flour
+mills which supplied the city, there was no bread to be had, and the
+king’s army had to do without. When the king heard of it, he sent for
+the cook, and told him that by the next morning he must have all the
+bread that the oven, heated seven times over, could bake. “But, your
+Majesty, it is not possible,” cried the poor man in despair. “The mills
+have only just begun working, and the flour will not be ground till
+evening, and how can I heat the oven seven times in one night?” “That
+is your affair,” answered the King, who, when he took anything into his
+head, would listen to nothing. “If you succeed in baking the bread you
+shall have my daughter to wife, but if you fail your head will pay for
+it.”
+
+Now Paperarello, who was passing through the hall where the king was
+giving his orders, heard these words, and said: “Your Majesty, have no
+fears; I will bake your bread.” “Very well,” answered the king; “but if
+you fail, you will pay for it with your head!” and signed that both
+should leave his presence.
+
+The cook was still trembling with the thought of what he had escaped,
+but to his surprise Paperarello did not seem disturbed at all, and when
+night came he went to sleep as usual. “Paperarello,” cried the other
+servants, when they saw him quietly taking off his clothes, “you cannot
+go to bed; you will need every moment of the night for your work.
+Remember, the king is not to be played with!”
+
+“I really must have some sleep first,” replied Paperarello, stretching
+himself and yawning; and he flung himself on his bed, and was fast
+asleep in a moment. In an hour’s time, the servants came and shook him
+by the shoulder. “Paperarello, are you mad?” said they. “Get up, or you
+will lose your head.” “Oh, do let me sleep a little more, answered he.
+And this was all he would say, though the servants returned to wake him
+many times in the night.
+
+At last the dawn broke, and the servants rushed to his room, crying:
+“Paperarello! Paperarello! get up, the king is coming. You have baked
+no bread, and of a surety he will have your head.”
+
+“Oh, don’t scream so,” replied Paperarello, jumping out of bed as he
+spoke; and taking the lock of hair in his hand, he went into the
+kitchen. And, behold! there stood the bread piled high—four, five, six
+ovens full, and the seventh still waiting to be taken out of the oven.
+The servants stood and stared in surprise, and the king said: “Well
+done, Paperarello, you have won my daughter.” And he thought to
+himself: “This fellow must really be a magician.”
+
+But when the princess heard what was in store for her she wept
+bitterly, and declared that never, never would she marry that dirty
+Paperarello! However, the king paid no heed to her tears and prayers,
+and before many days were over the wedding was celebrated with great
+splendour, though the bridegroom had not taken the trouble to wash
+himself, and was as dirty as before.
+
+When night came he went as usual to sleep among his geese, and the
+princess went to the king and said: “Father, I entreat you to have that
+horrible Paperarello put to death.” “No, no!” replied her father, “he
+is a great magician, and before I put him to death, I must first find
+out the secret of his power, and then—we shall see.”
+
+Soon after this a war broke out, and everybody about the palace was
+very busy polishing up armour and sharpening swords, for the king and
+his sons were to ride at the head of the army. Then Paperarello left
+his geese, and came and told the king that he wished to go to fight
+also. The king gave him leave, and told him that he might go to the
+stable and take any horse he liked from the stables. So Paperarello
+examined the horses carefully, but instead of picking out one of the
+splendid well-groomed creatures, whose skin shone like satin, he chose
+a poor lame thing, put a saddle on it, and rode after the other
+men-at-arms who were attending the king. In a short time he stopped,
+and said to them: “My horse can go no further; you must go on to the
+war without me, and I will stay here, and make some little clay
+soldiers, and will play at a battle.” The men laughed at him for being
+so childish, and rode on after their master.
+
+Scarcely were they out of sight than Paperarello took out his curl, and
+wished himself the best armour, the sharpest sword, and the swiftest
+horse in the world, and the next minute was riding as fast as he could
+to the field of battle. The fight had already begun, and the enemy was
+getting the best of it, when Paperarello rode up, and in a moment the
+fortunes of the day had changed. Right and left this strange knight
+laid about him, and his sword pierced the stoutest breast-plate, and
+the strongest shield. He was indeed “a host in himself,” and his foes
+fled before him thinking he was only the first of a troop of such
+warriors, whom no one could withstand. When the battle was over, the
+king sent for him to thank him for his timely help, and to ask what
+reward he should give him. “Nothing but your little finger, your
+Majesty,” was his answer; and the king cut off his little finger and
+gave it to Paperarello, who bowed and hid it in his surcoat. Then he
+left the field, and when the soldiers rode back they found him still
+sitting in the road making whole rows of little clay dolls.
+
+The next day the king went out to fight another battle, and again
+Paperarello appeared, mounted on his lame horse. As on the day before,
+he halted on the road, and sat down to make his clay soldiers; then a
+second time he wished himself armour, sword, and a horse, all sharper
+and better than those he had previously had, and galloped after the
+rest. He was only just in time: the enemy had almost beaten the king’s
+army back, and men whispered to each other that if the strange knight
+did not soon come to their aid, they would be all dead men. Suddenly
+someone cried: “Hold on a little longer, I see him in the distance; and
+his armour shines brighter, and his horse runs swifter, than
+yesterday.” Then they took fresh heart and fought desperately on till
+the knight came up, and threw himself into the thick of the battle. As
+before, the enemy gave way before him, and in a few minutes the victory
+remained with the king.
+
+The first thing that the victor did was to send for the knight to thank
+him for his timely help, and to ask what gift he could bestow on him in
+token of gratitude. “Your Majesty’s ear,” answered the knight; and as
+the king could not go back from his word, he cut it off and gave it to
+him. Paperarello bowed, fastened the ear inside his surcoat and rode
+away. In the evening, when they all returned from the battle, there he
+was, sitting in the road, making clay dolls.
+
+On the third day the same thing happened, and this time he asked for
+the king’s nose as the reward of his aid. Now, to lose one’s nose, is
+worse even than losing one’s ear or one’s finger, and the king
+hesitated as to whether he should comply. However, he had always prided
+himself on being an honourable man, so he cut off his nose, and handed
+it to Paperarello. Paperarello bowed, put the nose in his surcoat, and
+rode away. In the evening, when the king returned from the battle, he
+found Paperarello sitting in the road making clay dolls. And
+Paperarello got up and said to him: “Do you know who I am? I am your
+dirty goose-boy, yet you have given me your finger, and your ear, and
+your nose.”
+
+That night, when the king sat at dinner, Paperarello came in, and
+laying down the ear, and the nose, and the finger on the table, turned
+and said to the nobles and courtiers who were waiting on the king: “I
+am the invincible knight, who rode three times to your help, and I also
+am a king’s son, and no goose-boy as you all think.” And he went away
+and washed himself, and dressed himself in fine clothes and entered the
+hall again, looking so handsome that the proud princess fell in love
+with him on the spot. But Paperarello took no notice of her, and said
+to the king: “It was kind of you to offer me your daughter in marriage,
+and for that I thank you; but I have a wife at home whom I love better,
+and it is to her that I am going. But as a token of farewell, I wish
+that your ear, and nose, and finger may be restored to their proper
+places.” So saying, he bade them all goodbye, and went back to his home
+and his fairy bride, with whom he lived happily till the end of his
+life.
+
+[From Sicilianisohen Mährchen.]
+
+
+
+
+The Gifts Of The Magician
+
+
+Once upon a time there was an old man who lived in a little hut in the
+middle of a forest. His wife was dead, and he had only one son, whom he
+loved dearly. Near their hut was a group of birch trees, in which some
+black-game had made their nests, and the youth had often begged his
+father’s permission to shoot the birds, but the old man always strictly
+forbade him to do anything of the kind.
+
+One day, however, when the father had gone to a little distance to
+collect some sticks for the fire, the boy fetched his bow, and shot at
+a bird that was just flying towards its nest. But he had not taken
+proper aim, and the bird was only wounded, and fluttered along the
+ground. The boy ran to catch it, but though he ran very fast, and the
+bird seemed to flutter along very slowly, he never could quite come up
+with it; it was always just a little in advance. But so absorbed was he
+in the chase that he did not notice for some time that he was now deep
+in the forest, in a place where he had never been before. Then he felt
+it would be foolish to go any further, and he turned to find his way
+home.
+
+He thought it would be easy enough to follow the path along which he
+had come, but somehow it was always branching off in unexpected
+directions. He looked about for a house where he might stop and ask his
+way, but there was not a sign of one anywhere, and he was afraid to
+stand still, for it was cold, and there were many stories of wolves
+being seen in that part of the forest. Night fell, and he was beginning
+to start at every sound, when suddenly a magician came running towards
+him, with a pack of wolves snapping at his heels. Then all the boy’s
+courage returned to him. He took his bow, and aiming an arrow at the
+largest wolf, shot him through the heart, and a few more arrows soon
+put the rest to flight. The magician was full of gratitude to his
+deliverer, and promised him a reward for his help if the youth would go
+back with him to his house.
+
+“Indeed there is nothing that would be more welcome to me than a
+night’s lodging,” answered the boy; “I have been wandering all day in
+the forest, and did not know how to get home again.
+
+“Come with me, you must be hungry as well as tired,” said the magician,
+and led the way to his house, where the guest flung himself on a bed,
+and went fast asleep. But his host returned to the forest to get some
+food, for the larder was empty.
+
+While he was absent the housekeeper went to the boy’s room and tried to
+wake him. She stamped on the floor, and shook him and called to him,
+telling him that he was in great danger, and must take flight at once.
+But nothing would rouse him, and if he did ever open his eyes he shut
+them again directly.
+
+Soon after, the magician came back from the forest, and told the
+housekeeper to bring them something to eat. The meal was quickly ready,
+and the magician called to the boy to come down and eat it, but he
+could not be wakened, and they had to sit down to supper without him.
+By-and-by the magician went out into the wood again for some more
+hunting, and on his return he tried afresh to waken the youth. But
+finding it quite impossible, he went back for the third time to the
+forest.
+
+While he was absent the boy woke up and dressed himself. Then he came
+downstairs and began to talk to the housekeeper. The girl had heard how
+he had saved her master’s life, so she said nothing more about his
+running away, but instead told him that if the magician offered him the
+choice of a reward, he was to ask for the horse which stood in the
+third stall of the stable.
+
+By-and-by the old man came back and they all sat down to dinner. When
+they had finished the magician said: “Now, my son, tell me what you
+will have as the reward of your courage?”
+
+“Give me the horse that stands in the third stall of your stable,”
+answered the youth. “For I have a long way to go before I get home, and
+my feet will not carry me so far.”
+
+“Ah! my son,” replied the magician, “it is the best horse in my stable
+that you want! Will not anything else please you as well?”
+
+But the youth declared that it was the horse, and the horse only, that
+he desired, and in the end the old man gave way. And besides the horse,
+the magician gave him a zither, a fiddle, and a flute, saying: “If you
+are in danger, touch the zither; and if no one comes to your aid, then
+play on the fiddle; but if that brings no help, blow on the flute.”
+
+The youth thanked the magician, and fastening his treasures about him
+mounted the horse and rode off. He had already gone some miles when, to
+his great surprise, the horse spoke, and said: “It is no use your
+returning home just now, your father will only beat you. Let us visit a
+few towns first, and something lucky will be sure to happen to us.”
+
+This advice pleased the boy, for he felt himself almost a man by this
+time, and thought it was high time he saw the world. When they entered
+the capital of the country everyone stopped to admire the beauty of the
+horse. Even the king heard of it, and came to see the splendid creature
+with his own eyes. Indeed, he wanted directly to buy it, and told the
+youth he would give any price he liked. The young man hesitated for a
+moment, but before he could speak, the horse contrived to whisper to
+him:
+
+“Do not sell me, but ask the king to take me to his stable, and feed me
+there; then his other horses will become just as beautiful as I.”
+
+The king was delighted when he was told what the horse had said, and
+took the animal at once to the stables, and placed it in his own
+particular stall. Sure enough, the horse had scarcely eaten a mouthful
+of corn out of the manger, when the rest of the horses seemed to have
+undergone a transformation. Some of them were old favourites which the
+king had ridden in many wars, and they bore the signs of age and of
+service. But now they arched their heads, and pawed the ground with
+their slender legs as they had been wont to do in days long gone by.
+The king’s heart beat with delight, but the old groom who had had the
+care of them stood crossly by, and eyed the owner of this wonderful
+creature with hate and envy. Not a day passed without his bringing some
+story against the youth to his master, but the king understood all
+about the matter and paid no attention. At last the groom declared that
+the young man had boasted that he could find the king’s war horse which
+had strayed into the forest several years ago, and had not been heard
+of since. Now the king had never ceased to mourn for his horse, so this
+time he listened to the tale which the groom had invented, and sent for
+the youth. “Find me my horse in three days,” said he, “or it will be
+the worse for you.”
+
+The youth was thunderstruck at this command, but he only bowed, and
+went off at once to the stable.
+
+“Do not worry yourself,” answered his own horse. “Ask the king to give
+you a hundred oxen, and to let them be killed and cut into small
+pieces. Then we will start on our journey, and ride till we reach a
+certain river. There a horse will come up to you, but take no notice of
+him. Soon another will appear, and this also you must leave alone, but
+when the third horse shows itself, throw my bridle over it.”
+
+Everything happened just as the horse had said, and the third horse was
+safely bridled. Then the other horse spoke again: “The magician’s raven
+will try to eat us as we ride away, but throw it some of the oxen’s
+flesh, and then I will gallop like the wind, and carry you safe out of
+the dragon’s clutches.”
+
+So the young man did as he was told, and brought the horse back to the
+king.
+
+The old stableman was very jealous, when he heard of it, and wondered
+what he could do to injure the youth in the eyes of his royal master.
+At last he hit upon a plan, and told the king that the young man had
+boasted that he could bring home the king’s wife, who had vanished many
+months before, without leaving a trace behind her. Then the king bade
+the young man come into his presence, and desired him to fetch the
+queen home again, as he had boasted he could do. And if he failed, his
+head would pay the penalty.
+
+The poor youth’s heart stood still as he listened. Find the queen? But
+how was he to do that, when nobody in the palace had been able to do
+so! Slowly he walked to the stable, and laying his head on his horse’s
+shoulder, he said: “The king has ordered me to bring his wife home
+again, and how can I do that when she disappeared so long ago, and no
+one can tell me anything about her?”
+
+“Cheer up!” answered the horse, “we will manage to find her. You have
+only got to ride me back to the same river that we went to yesterday,
+and I will plunge into it and take my proper shape again. For I am the
+king’s wife, who was turned into a horse by the magician from whom you
+saved me.”
+
+Joyfully the young man sprang into the saddle and rode away to the
+banks of the river. Then he threw himself off, and waited while the
+horse plunged in. The moment it dipped its head into the water its
+black skin vanished, and the most beautiful woman in the world was
+floating on the water. She came smiling towards the youth, and held out
+her hand, and he took it and led her back to the palace. Great was the
+king’s surprise and happiness when he beheld his lost wife stand before
+him, and in gratitude to her rescuer he loaded him with gifts.
+
+You would have thought that after this the poor youth would have been
+left in peace; but no, his enemy the stableman hated him as much as
+ever, and laid a new plot for his undoing. This time he presented
+himself before the king and told him that the youth was so puffed up
+with what he had done that he had declared he would seize the king’s
+throne for himself.
+
+At this news the king waxed so furious that he ordered a gallows to be
+erected at once, and the young man to be hanged without a trial. He was
+not even allowed to speak in his own defence, but on the very steps of
+the gallows he sent a message to the king and begged, as a last favour,
+that he might play a tune on his zither. Leave was given him, and
+taking the instrument from under his cloak he touched the strings.
+Scarcely had the first notes sounded than the hangman and his helper
+began to dance, and the louder grew the music the higher they capered,
+till at last they cried for mercy. But the youth paid no heed, and the
+tunes rang out more merrily than before, and by the time the sun set
+they both sank on the ground exhausted, and declared that the hanging
+must be put off till to-morrow.
+
+The story of the zither soon spread through the town, and on the
+following morning the king and his whole court and a large crowd of
+people were gathered at the foot of the gallows to see the youth
+hanged. Once more he asked a favour—permission to play on his fiddle,
+and this the king was graciously pleased to grant. But with the first
+notes, the leg of every man in the crowd was lifted high, and they
+danced to the sound of the music the whole day till darkness fell, and
+there was no light to hang the musician by.
+
+The third day came, and the youth asked leave to play on his flute.
+“No, no,” said the king, “you made me dance all day yesterday, and if I
+do it again it will certainly be my death. You shall play no more
+tunes. Quick! the rope round his neck.”
+
+At these words the young man looked so sorrowful that the courtiers
+said to the king: “He is very young to die. Let him play a tune if it
+will make him happy.” So, very unwillingly, the king gave him leave;
+but first he had himself bound to a big fir tree, for fear that he
+should be made to dance.
+
+When he was made fast, the young man began to blow softly on his flute,
+and bound though he was, the king’s body moved to the sound, up and
+down the fir tree till his clothes were in tatters, and the skin nearly
+rubbed off his back. But the youth had no pity, and went on blowing,
+till suddenly the old magician appeared and asked: “What danger are you
+in, my son, that you have sent for me?”
+
+“They want to hang me,” answered the young man; “the gallows are all
+ready and the hangman is only waiting for me to stop playing.”
+
+“Oh, I will put that right,” said the magician; and taking the gallows,
+he tore it up and flung it into the air, and no one knows where it came
+down. “Who has ordered you to be hanged?” asked he.
+
+The young man pointed to the king, who was still bound to the fir; and
+without wasting words the magician took hold of the tree also, and with
+a mighty heave both fir and man went spinning through the air, and
+vanished in the clouds after the gallows.
+
+Then the youth was declared to be free, and the people elected him for
+their king; and the stable helper drowned himself from envy, for, after
+all, if it had not been for him the young man would have remained poor
+all the days of his life.
+
+[From Finnische Mährchen.]
+
+
+
+
+The Strong Prince
+
+
+Once upon a time there lived a king who was so fond of wine that he
+could not go to sleep unless he knew he had a great flaskful tied to
+his bed-post. All day long he drank till he was too stupid to attend to
+his business, and everything in the kingdom went to rack and ruin. But
+one day an accident happened to him, and he was struck on the head by a
+falling bough, so that he fell from his horse and lay dead upon the
+ground.
+
+His wife and son mourned his loss bitterly, for, in spite of his
+faults, he had always been kind to them. So they abandoned the crown
+and forsook their country, not knowing or caring where they went.
+
+At length they wandered into a forest, and being very tired, sat down
+under a tree to eat some bread that they had brought with them. When
+they had finished the queen said: “My son, I am thirsty; fetch me some
+water.”
+
+The prince got up at once and went to a brook which he heard gurgling
+near at hand. He stooped and filled his hat with the water, which he
+brought to his mother; then he turned and followed the stream up to its
+source in a rock, where it bubbled out clear and fresh and cold. He
+knelt down to take a draught from the deep pool below the rock, when he
+saw the reflection of a sword hanging from the branch of a tree over
+his head. The young man drew back with a start; but in a moment he
+climbed the tree, cutting the rope which held the sword, and carried
+the weapon to his mother.
+
+The queen was greatly surprised at the sight of anything so splendid in
+such a lonely place, and took it in her hands to examine it closely. It
+was of curious workmanship, wrought with gold, and on its handle was
+written: “The man who can buckle on this sword will become stronger
+than other men.” The queen’s heart swelled with joy as she read these
+words, and she bade her son lose no time in testing their truth. So he
+fastened it round his waist, and instantly a glow of strength seemed to
+run through his veins. He took hold of a thick oak tree and rooted it
+up as easily as if it had been a weed.
+
+This discovery put new life into the queen and her son, and they
+continued their walk through the forest. But night was drawing on, and
+the darkness grew so thick that it seemed as if it could be cut with a
+knife. They did not want to sleep in the wood, for they were afraid of
+wolves and other wild beasts, so they groped their way along, hand in
+hand, till the prince tripped over something which lay across the path.
+He could not see what it was, but stooped down and tried to lift it.
+The thing was very heavy, and he thought his back would break under the
+strain. At last with a great heave he moved it out of the road, and as
+it fell he knew it was a huge rock. Behind the rock was a cave which it
+was quite clear was the home of some robbers, though not one of the
+band was there.
+
+Hastily putting out the fire which burned brightly at the back, and
+bidding his mother come in and keep very still, the prince began to
+pace up and down, listening for the return of the robbers. But he was
+very sleepy, and in spite of all his efforts he felt he could not keep
+awake much longer, when he heard the sound of the robbers returning,
+shouting and singing as they marched along. Soon the singing ceased,
+and straining his ears he heard them discussing anxiously what had
+become of their cave, and why they could not see the fire as usual.
+“This must be the place,” said a voice, which the prince took to be
+that of the captain. “Yes, I feel the ditch before the entrance.
+Someone forgot to pile up the fire before we left and it has burnt
+itself out! But it is all right. Let every man jump across, and as he
+does so cry out ‘Hop! I am here.’ I will go last. Now begin.”
+
+The man who stood nearest jumped across, but he had no time to give the
+call which the captain had ordered, for with one swift, silent stroke
+of the prince’s sword, his head rolled into a corner. Then the young
+man cried instead, “Hop! I am here.”
+
+The second man, hearing the signal, leapt the ditch in confidence, and
+was met by the same fate, and in a few minutes eleven of the robbers
+lay dead, and there remained only the captain.
+
+Now the captain had wound round his neck the shawl of his lost wife,
+and the stroke of the prince’s sword fell harmless. Being very cunning,
+however, he made no resistance, and rolled over as if he were as dead
+as the other men. Still, the prince was no fool, and wondered if indeed
+he was as dead as he seemed to be; but the captain lay so stiff and
+stark, that at last he was taken in.
+
+The prince next dragged the headless bodies into a chamber in the cave,
+and locked the door. Then he and his mother ransacked the place for
+some food, and when they had eaten it they lay down and slept in peace.
+
+With the dawn they were both awake again, and found that, instead of
+the cave which they had come to the night before, they now were in a
+splendid castle, full of beautiful rooms. The prince went round all
+these and carefully locked them up, bidding his mother take care of the
+keys while he was hunting.
+
+Unfortunately, the queen, like all women, could not bear to think that
+there was anything which she did not know. So the moment that her son
+had turned his back, she opened the doors of all the rooms, and peeped
+in, till she came to the one where the robbers lay. But if the sight of
+the blood on the ground turned her faint, the sight of the robber
+captain walking up and down was a greater shock still. She quickly
+turned the key in the lock, and ran back to the chamber she had slept
+in.
+
+Soon after her son came in, bringing with him a large bear, which he
+had killed for supper. As there was enough food to last them for many
+days, the prince did not hunt the next morning, but, instead, began to
+explore the castle. He found that a secret way led from it into the
+forest; and following the path, he reached another castle larger and
+more splendid than the one belonging to the robbers. He knocked at the
+door with his fist, and said that he wanted to enter; but the giant, to
+whom the castle belonged, only answered: “I know who you are. I have
+nothing to do with robbers.”
+
+“I am no robber,” answered the prince. “I am the son of a king, and I
+have killed all the band. If you do not open to me at once I will break
+in the door, and your head shall go to join the others.”
+
+He waited a little, but the door remained shut as tightly as before.
+Then he just put his shoulder to it, and immediately the wood began to
+crack. When the giant found that it was no use keeping it shut, he
+opened it, saying: “I see you are a brave youth. Let there be peace
+between us.”
+
+And the prince was glad to make peace, for he had caught a glimpse of
+the giant’s beautiful daughter, and from that day he often sought the
+giant’s house.
+
+Now the queen led a dull life all alone in the castle, and to amuse
+herself she paid visits to the robber captain, who flattered her till
+at last she agreed to marry him. But as she was much afraid of her son,
+she told the robber that the next time the prince went to bathe in the
+river, he was to steal the sword from its place above the bed, for
+without it the young man would have no power to punish him for his
+boldness.
+
+The robber captain thought this good counsel, and the next morning,
+when the young man went to bathe, he unhooked the sword from its nail
+and buckled it round his waist. On his return to the castle, the prince
+found the robber waiting for him on the steps, waving the sword above
+his head, and knowing that some horrible fate was in store, fell on his
+knees and begged for mercy. But he might as well have tried to squeeze
+blood out of a stone. The robber, indeed, granted him his life, but
+took out both his eyes, which he thrust into the prince’s hand, saying
+brutally:
+
+“Here, you had better keep them! You may find them useful!”
+
+Weeping, the blind youth felt his way to the giant’s house, and told
+him all the story.
+
+The giant was full of pity for the poor young man, but inquired
+anxiously what he had done with the eyes. The prince drew them out of
+his pocket, and silently handed them to the giant, who washed them
+well, and then put them back in the prince’s head. For three days he
+lay in utter darkness; then the light began to come back, till soon he
+saw as well as ever.
+
+But though he could not rejoice enough over the recovery of his eyes,
+he bewailed bitterly the loss of his sword, and that it should have
+fallen to the lot of his bitter enemy.
+
+“Never mind, my friend,” said the giant, “I will get it back for you.”
+And he sent for the monkey who was his head servant.
+
+“Tell the fox and the squirrel that they are to go with you, and fetch
+me back the prince’s sword,” ordered he.
+
+The three servants set out at once, one seated on the back of the
+others, the ape, who disliked walking, being generally on top. Directly
+they came to the window of the robber captain’s room, the monkey sprang
+from the backs of the fox and the squirrel, and climbed in. The room
+was empty, and the sword hanging from a nail. He took it down, and
+buckling it round his waist, as he had seen the prince do, swung
+himself down again, and mounting on the backs of his two companions,
+hastened to his master. The giant bade him give the sword to the
+prince, who girded himself with it, and returned with all speed to the
+castle.
+
+“Come out, you rascal! come out, you villain!” cried he, “and answer to
+me for the wrong you have done. I will show you who is the master in
+this house!”
+
+The noise he made brought the robber into the room. He glanced up to
+where the sword usually hung, but it was gone; and instinctively he
+looked at the prince’s hand, where he saw it gleaming brightly. In his
+turn he fell on his knees to beg for mercy, but it was too late. As he
+had done to the prince, so the prince did to him, and, blinded, he was
+thrust forth, and fell down a deep hole, where he is to this day. His
+mother the prince sent back to her father, and never would see her
+again. After this he returned to the giant, and said to him:
+
+“My friend, add one more kindness to those you have already heaped on
+me. Give me your daughter as my wife.”
+
+So they were married, and the wedding feast was so splendid that there
+was not a kingdom in the world that did not hear of it. And the prince
+never went back to his father’s throne, but lived peacefully with his
+wife in the forest, where, if they are not dead, they are living still.
+
+[From Ungarische Volksmarchen.]
+
+
+
+
+The Treasure Seeker
+
+
+Once, long ago, in a little town that lay in the midst of high hills
+and wild forests, a party of shepherds sat one night in the kitchen of
+the inn talking over old times, and telling of the strange things that
+had befallen them in their youth.
+
+Presently up spoke the silver-haired Father Martin.
+
+“Comrades,” said he, “you have had wonderful adventures; but I will
+tell you something still more astonishing that happened to myself. When
+I was a young lad I had no home and no one to care for me, and I
+wandered from village to village all over the country with my knapsack
+on my back; but as soon as I was old enough I took service with a
+shepherd in the mountains, and helped him for three years. One autumn
+evening as we drove the flock homeward ten sheep were missing, and the
+master bade me go and seek them in the forest. I took my dog with me,
+but he could find no trace of them, though we searched among the bushes
+till night fell; and then, as I did not know the country and could not
+find my way home in the dark, I decided to sleep under a tree. At
+midnight my dog became uneasy, and began to whine and creep close to me
+with his tail between his legs; by this I knew that something was
+wrong, and, looking about, I saw in the bright moonlight a figure
+standing beside me. It seemed to be a man with shaggy hair, and a long
+beard which hung down to his knees. He had a garland upon his head, and
+a girdle of oak-leaves about his body, and carried an uprooted fir-tree
+in his right hand. I shook like an aspen leaf at the sight, and my
+spirit quaked for fear. The strange being beckoned with his hand that I
+should follow him; but as I did not stir from the spot he spoke in a
+hoarse, grating voice: ‘Take courage, faint-hearted shepherd. I am the
+Treasure Seeker of the mountain. If you will come with me you shall dig
+up much gold.’
+
+“Though I was still deadly cold with terror I plucked up my courage and
+said: ‘Get away from me, evil spirit; I do not desire your treasures.’
+
+“At this the spectre grinned in my face and cried mockingly:
+
+“‘Simpleton! Do you scorn your good fortune? Well, then, remain a
+ragamuffin all your days.’
+
+“He turned as if to go away from me, then came back again and said:
+‘Bethink yourself, bethink yourself, rogue. I will fill your knapsack—I
+will fill your pouch.’
+
+“‘Away from me, monster,’ I answered, ‘I will have nothing to do with
+you.’
+
+“When the apparition saw that I gave no heed to him he ceased to urge
+me, saying only: ‘Some day you will rue this,’ and looked at me sadly.
+Then he cried: ‘Listen to what I say, and lay it well to heart, it may
+be of use to you when you come to your senses. A vast treasure of gold
+and precious stones lies in safety deep under the earth. At twilight
+and at high noon it is hidden, but at midnight it may be dug up. For
+seven hundred years have I watched over it, but now my time has come;
+it is common property, let him find it who can. So I thought to give it
+into your hand, having a kindness for you because you feed your flock
+upon my mountain.’
+
+“Thereupon the spectre told me exactly where the treasure lay, and how
+to find it. It might be only yesterday so well do I remember every word
+he spoke.
+
+“‘Go towards the little mountains,’ said he, ‘and ask there for the
+Black King’s Valley, and when you come to a tiny brook follow the
+stream till you reach the stone bridge beside the saw-mill. Do not
+cross the bridge, but keep to your right along the bank till a high
+rock stands before you. A bow-shot from that you will discover a little
+hollow like a grave. When you find this hollow dig it out; but it will
+be hard work, for the earth has been pressed down into it with care.
+Still, work away till you find solid rock on all sides of you, and soon
+you will come to a square slab of stone; force it out of the wall, and
+you will stand at the entrance of the treasure house. Into this opening
+you must crawl, holding a lamp in your mouth. Keep your hands free lest
+you knock your nose against a stone, for the way is steep and the
+stones sharp. If it bruises your knees never mind; you are on the road
+to fortune. Do not rest till you reach a wide stairway, down which you
+will go till you come out into a spacious hall, in which there are
+three doors; two of them stand open, the third is fastened with locks
+and bolts of iron. Do not go through the door to the right lest you
+disturb the bones of the lords of the treasure. Neither must you go
+through the door to the left, it leads to the snake’s chamber, where
+adders and serpents lodge; but open the fast-closed door by means of
+the well-known spring-root, which you must on no account forget to take
+with you, or all your trouble will be for naught, for no crowbar or
+mortal tools will help you. If you want to procure the root ask a
+wood-seller; it is a common thing for hunters to need, and it is not
+hard to find. If the door bursts open suddenly with great crackings and
+groanings do not be afraid, the noise is caused by the power of the
+magic root, and you will not be hurt. Now trim your lamp that it may
+not fail you, for you will be nearly blinded by the flash and glitter
+of the gold and precious stones on the walls and pillars of the vault;
+but beware how you stretch out a hand towards the jewels! In the midst
+of the cavern stands a copper chest, in that you will find gold and
+silver, enough and to spare, and you may help yourself to your heart’s
+content. If you take as much as you can carry you will have sufficient
+to last your lifetime, and you may return three times; but woe betide
+you if you venture to come a fourth time. You would have your trouble
+for your pains, and would be punished for your greediness by falling
+down the stone steps and breaking your leg. Do not neglect each time to
+heap back the loose earth which concealed the entrance of the king’s
+treasure chamber.’
+
+“As the apparition left off speaking my dog pricked up his ears and
+began to bark. I heard the crack of a carter’s whip and the noise of
+wheels in the distance, and when I looked again the spectre had
+disappeared.”
+
+So ended the shepherd’s tale; and the landlord who was listening with
+the rest, said shrewdly:
+
+“Tell us now, Father Martin, did you go to the mountain and find what
+the spirit promised you; or is it a fable?”
+
+“Nay, nay,” answered the greybeard. “I cannot tell if the spectre lied,
+for never a step did I go towards finding the hollow, for two
+reasons:—one was that my neck was too precious for me to risk it in
+such a snare as that; the other, that no one could ever tell me where
+the spring-root was to be found.”
+
+Then Blaize, another aged shepherd, lifted up his voice.
+
+“’Tis a pity, Father Martin, that your secret has grown old with you.
+If you had told it forty years ago truly you would not long have been
+lacking the spring-root. Even though you will never climb the mountain
+now, I will tell you, for a joke, how it is to be found. The easiest
+way to get it is by the help of a black woodpecker. Look, in the
+spring, where she builds her nest in a hole in a tree, and when the
+time comes for her brood to fly off block up the entrance to the nest
+with a hard sod, and lurk in ambush behind the tree till the bird
+returns to feed her nestlings. When she perceives that she cannot get
+into her nest she will fly round the tree uttering cries of distress,
+and then dart off towards the sun-setting. When you see her do this,
+take a scarlet cloak, or if that be lacking to you, buy a few yards of
+scarlet cloth, and hurry back to the tree before the woodpecker returns
+with the spring-root in her beak. So soon as she touches with the root
+the sod that blocks the nest, it will fly violently out of the hole.
+Then spread the red cloth quickly under the tree, so that the
+woodpecker may think it is a fire, and in her terror drop the root.
+Some people really light a fire and strew spikenard blossoms in it; but
+that is a clumsy method, for if the flames do not shoot up at the right
+moment away will fly the woodpecker, carrying the root with her.”
+
+The party had listened with interest to this speech, but by the time it
+was ended the hour was late, and they went their ways homeward, leaving
+only one man who had sat unheeded in a corner the whole evening
+through.
+
+Master Peter Bloch had once been a prosperous innkeeper, and a
+master-cook; but he had gone steadily down in the world for some time,
+and was now quite poor.
+
+Formerly he had been a merry fellow, fond of a joke, and in the art of
+cooking had no equal in the town. He could make fish-jelly, and quince
+fritters, and even wafer-cakes; and he gilded the ears of all his
+boars’ heads. Peter had looked about him for a wife early in life, but
+unluckily his choice fell upon a woman whose evil tongue was well known
+in the town. Ilse was hated by everybody, and the young folks would go
+miles out of their way rather than meet her, for she had some ill-word
+for everyone. Therefore, when Master Peter came along, and let himself
+be taken in by her boasted skill as a housewife, she jumped at his
+offer, and they were married the next day. But they had not got home
+before they began to quarrel. In the joy of his heart Peter had tasted
+freely of his own good wine, and as the bride hung upon his arm he
+stumbled and fell, dragging her down with him; whereupon she beat him
+soundly, and the neighbours said truly that things did not promise well
+for Master Peter’s comfort. Even when the ill-matched couple were
+presently blessed with children, his happiness was but short-lived, the
+savage temper of his quarrelsome wife seemed to blight them from the
+first, and they died like little kids in a cold winter.
+
+Though Master Peter had no great wealth to leave behind him, still it
+was sad to him to be childless; and he would bemoan himself to his
+friends, when he laid one baby after another in the grave, saying: “The
+lightning has been among the cherry-blossoms again, so there will be no
+fruit to grow ripe.”
+
+But, by-and-by, he had a little daughter so strong and healthy that
+neither her mother’s temper nor her father’s spoiling could keep her
+from growing up tall and beautiful. Meanwhile the fortunes of the
+family had changed. From his youth up, Master Peter had hated trouble;
+when he had money he spent it freely, and fed all the hungry folk who
+asked him for bread. If his pockets were empty he borrowed of his
+neighbours, but he always took good care to prevent his scolding wife
+from finding out that he had done so. His motto was: “It will all come
+right in the end”; but what it did come to was ruin for Master Peter.
+He was at his wits’ end to know how to earn an honest living, for try
+as he might ill-luck seemed to pursue him, and he lost one post after
+another, till at last all he could do was to carry sacks of corn to the
+mill for his wife, who scolded him well if he was slow about it, and
+grudged him his portion of food.
+
+This grieved the tender heart of his pretty daughter, who loved him
+dearly, and was the comfort of his life.
+
+Peter was thinking of her as he sat in the inn kitchen and heard the
+shepherds talking about the buried treasure, and for her sake he
+resolved to go and seek for it. Before he rose from the landlord’s
+arm-chair his plan was made, and Master Peter went home more joyful and
+full of hope than he had been for many a long day; but on the way he
+suddenly remembered that he was not yet possessed of the magic
+spring-root, and he stole into the house with a heavy heart, and threw
+himself down upon his hard straw bed. He could neither sleep nor rest;
+but as soon as it was light he got up and wrote down exactly all that
+was to be done to find the treasure, that he might not forget anything,
+and when it lay clear and plain before his eyes he comforted himself
+with the thought that, though he must do the rough work for his wife
+during one more winter at least, he would not have to tread the path to
+the mill for the rest of his life. Soon he heard his wife’s harsh voice
+singing its morning song as she went about her household affairs,
+scolding her daughter the while. She burst open his door while he was
+still dressing: “Well, Toper!” was her greeting, “have you been
+drinking all night, wasting money that you steal from my housekeeping?
+For shame, drunkard!”
+
+Master Peter, who was well used to this sort of talk, did not disturb
+himself, but waited till the storm blew over, then he said calmly:
+
+“Do not be annoyed, dear wife. I have a good piece of business in hand
+which may turn out well for us.”
+
+“You with a good business?” cried she, “you are good for nothing but
+talk!”
+
+“I am making my will,” said he, “that when my hour comes my house may
+be in order.”
+
+These unexpected words cut his daughter to the heart; she remembered
+that all night long she had dreamed of a newly dug grave, and at this
+thought she broke out into loud lamentations. But her mother only
+cried: “Wretch! have you not wasted goods and possessions, and now do
+you talk of making a will?”
+
+And she seized him like a fury, and tried to scratch out his eyes. But
+by-and-by the quarrel was patched up, and everything went on as before.
+From that day Peter saved up every penny that his daughter Lucia gave
+him on the sly, and bribed the boys of his acquaintance to spy out a
+black woodpecker’s nest for him. He sent them into the woods and
+fields, but instead of looking for a nest they only played pranks on
+him. They led him miles over hill and vale, stock and stone, to find a
+raven’s brood, or a nest of squirrels in a hollow tree, and when he was
+angry with them they laughed in his face and ran away. This went on for
+some time, but at last one of the boys spied out a woodpecker in the
+meadow-lands among the wood-pigeons, and when he had found her nest in
+a half-dead alder tree, came running to Peter with the news of his
+discovery. Peter could hardly believe his good fortune, and went
+quickly to see for himself if it was really true; and when he reached
+the tree there certainly was a bird flying in and out as if she had a
+nest in it. Peter was overjoyed at this fortunate discovery, and
+instantly set himself to obtain a red cloak. Now in the whole town
+there was only one red cloak, and that belonged to a man of whom nobody
+ever willingly asked a favour—Master Hammerling the hangman. It cost
+Master Peter many struggles before he could bring himself to visit such
+a person, but there was no help for it, and, little as he liked it, he
+ended by making his request to the hangman, who was flattered that so
+respectable a man as Peter should borrow his robe of office, and
+willingly lent it to him.
+
+Peter now had all that was necessary to secure the magic root; he
+stopped up the entrance to the nest, and everything fell out exactly as
+Blaize had foretold. As soon as the woodpecker came back with the root
+in her beak out rushed Master Peter from behind the tree and displayed
+the fiery red cloak so adroitly that the terrified bird dropped the
+root just where it could be easily seen. All Peter’s plans had
+succeeded, and he actually held in his hand the magic root—that
+master-key which would unlock all doors, and bring its possessor
+unheard-of luck. His thoughts now turned to the mountain, and he
+secretly made preparations for his journey. He took with him only a
+staff, a strong sack, and a little box which his daughter Lucia had
+given him.
+
+It happened that on the very day Peter had chosen for setting out,
+Lucia and her mother went off early to the town, leaving him to guard
+the house; but in spite of that he was on the point of taking his
+departure when it occurred to him that it might be as well first to
+test the much-vaunted powers of the magic root for himself. Dame Ilse
+had a strong cupboard with seven locks built into the wall of her room,
+in which she kept all the money she had saved, and she wore the key of
+it always hung about her neck. Master Peter had no control at all of
+the money affairs of the household, so the contents of this secret
+hoard were quite unknown to him, and this seemed to be a good
+opportunity for finding out what they were. He held the magic root to
+the keyhole, and to his astonishment heard all the seven locks creaking
+and turning, the door flew suddenly wide open, and his greedy wife’s
+store of gold pieces lay before his eyes. He stood still in sheer
+amazement, not knowing which to rejoice over most—this unexpected find,
+or the proof of the magic root’s real power; but at last he remembered
+that it was quite time to be starting on his journey. So, filling his
+pockets with the gold, he carefully locked the empty cupboard again and
+left the house without further delay. When Dame Ilse and her daughter
+returned they wondered to find the house door shut, and Master Peter
+nowhere to be seen. They knocked and called, but nothing stirred within
+but the house cat, and at last the blacksmith had to be fetched to open
+the door. Then the house was searched from garret to cellar, but no
+Master Peter was to be found.
+
+“Who knows?” cried Dame Ilse at last, “the wretch may have been idling
+in some tavern since early morning.”
+
+Then a sudden thought startled her, and she felt for her keys. Suppose
+they had fallen into her good-for-nothing husband’s hands and he had
+helped himself to her treasure! But no, the keys were safe in their
+usual place, and the cupboard looked quite untouched. Mid-day came,
+then evening, then midnight, and still no Master Peter appeared, and
+the matter became really serious. Dame Ilse knew right well what a
+torment she had been to her husband, and remorse caused her the
+gloomiest forebodings.
+
+“Ah! Lucia,” she cried, “I greatly fear that your father has done
+himself a mischief.” And they sat till morning weeping over their own
+fancies.
+
+As soon as it was light they searched every corner of the house again,
+and examined every nail in the wall and every beam; but, luckily,
+Master Peter was not hanging from any of them. After that the
+neighbours went out with long poles to fish in every ditch and pond,
+but they found nothing, and then Dame Ilse gave up the idea of ever
+seeing her husband again and very soon consoled herself, only wondering
+how the sacks of corn were to be carried to the mill in future. She
+decided to buy a strong ass to do the work, and having chosen one, and
+after some bargaining with the owner as to its price, she went to the
+cupboard in the wall to fetch the money. But what were her feelings
+when she perceived that every shelf lay empty and bare before her! For
+a moment she stood bewildered, then broke into such frightful ravings
+that Lucia ran to her in alarm; but as soon as she heard of the
+disappearance of the money she was heartily glad, and no longer feared
+that her father had come to any harm, but understood that he must have
+gone out into the world to seek his fortune in some new way.
+
+About a month after this, someone knocked at Dame Ilse’s door one day,
+and she went to see if it was a customer for meal; but in stepped a
+handsome young man, dressed like a duke’s son, who greeted her
+respectfully, and asked after her pretty daughter as if he were an old
+friend, though she could not remember having ever set eyes upon him
+before.
+
+However, she invited him to step into the house and be seated while he
+unfolded his business. With a great air of mystery he begged permission
+to speak to the fair Lucia, of whose skill in needlework he had heard
+so much, as he had a commission to give her. Dame Ilse had her own
+opinion as to what kind of commission it was likely to be—brought by a
+young stranger to a pretty maiden; however, as the meeting would be
+under her own eye, she made no objection, but called to her industrious
+daughter, who left off working and came obediently; but when she saw
+the stranger she stopped short, blushing, and casting down her eyes. He
+looked at her fondly, and took her hand, which she tried to draw away,
+crying:
+
+“Ah! Friedlin, why are you here? I thought you were a hundred miles
+away. Are you come to grieve me again?”
+
+“No, dearest girl,” answered he; “I am come to complete your happiness
+and my own. Since we last met my fortune has utterly changed; I am no
+longer the poor vagabond that I was then. My rich uncle has died,
+leaving me money and goods in plenty, so that I dare to present myself
+to your mother as a suitor for your hand. That I love you I know well;
+if you can love me I am indeed a happy man.”
+
+Lucia’s pretty blue eyes had looked up shyly as he spoke, and now a
+smile parted her rosy lips; and she stole a glance at her mother to see
+what she thought about it all; but the dame stood lost in amazement to
+find that her daughter, whom she could have declared had never been out
+of her sight, was already well acquainted with the handsome stranger,
+and quite willing to be his bride. Before she had done staring, this
+hasty wooer had smoothed his way by covering the shining table with
+gold pieces as a wedding gift to the bride’s mother, and had filled
+Lucia’s apron into the bargain; after which the dame made no
+difficulties, and the matter was speedily settled.
+
+While Ilse gathered up the gold and hid it away safely, the lovers
+whispered together, and what Friedlin told her seemed to make Lucia
+every moment more happy and contented.
+
+Now a great hurly-burly began in the house, and preparations for the
+wedding went on apace. A few days later a heavily laden waggon drove
+up, and out of it came so many boxes and bales that Dame Ilse was lost
+in wonder at the wealth of her future son-in-law. The day for the
+wedding was chosen, and all their friends and neighbours were bidden to
+the feast. As Lucia was trying on her bridal wreath she said to her
+mother: “This wedding-garland would please me indeed if father Peter
+could lead me to the church. If only he could come back again! Here we
+are rolling in riches while he may be nibbling at hunger’s table.” And
+the very idea of such a thing made her weep, while even Dame Ilse said:
+
+“I should not be sorry myself to see him come back—there is always
+something lacking in a house when the good man is away.”
+
+But the fact was that she was growing quite tired of having no one to
+scold. And what do you think happened?
+
+On the very eve of the wedding a man pushing a wheelbarrow arrived at
+the city gate, and paid toll upon a barrel of nails which it contained,
+and then made the best of his way to the bride’s dwelling and knocked
+at the door.
+
+The bride herself peeped out of the window to see who it could be, and
+there stood father Peter! Then there was great rejoicing in the house;
+Lucia ran to embrace him, and even Dame Ilse held out her hand in
+welcome, and only said: “Rogue, mend your ways,” when she remembered
+the empty treasure cupboard. Father Peter greeted the bridegroom,
+looking at him shrewdly, while the mother and daughter hastened to say
+all they knew in his favour, and appeared to be satisfied with him as a
+son-in-law. When Dame Ilse had set something to eat before her husband,
+she was curious to hear his adventures, and questioned him eagerly as
+to why he had gone away.
+
+“God bless my native place,” said he. “I have been marching through the
+country, and have tried every kind of work, but now I have found a job
+in the iron trade; only, so far, I have put more into it than I have
+earned by it. This barrel of nails is my whole fortune, which I wish to
+give as my contribution towards the bride’s house furnishing.”
+
+This speech roused Dame Ilse to anger, and she broke out into such
+shrill reproaches that the bystanders were fairly deafened, and
+Friedlin hastily offered Master Peter a home with Lucia and himself,
+promising that he should live in comfort, and be always welcome. So
+Lucia had her heart’s desire, and father Peter led her to the church
+next day, and the marriage took place very happily. Soon afterwards the
+young people settled in a fine house which Friedlin had bought, and had
+a garden and meadows, a fishpond, and a hill covered with vines, and
+were as happy as the day was long. Father Peter also stayed quietly
+with them, living, as everybody believed, upon the generosity of his
+rich son-in law. No one suspected that his barrel of nails was the real
+“Horn of Plenty,” from which all this prosperity overflowed.
+
+Peter had made the journey to the treasure mountain successfully,
+without being found out by anybody. He had enjoyed himself by the way,
+and taken his own time, until he actually reached the little brook in
+the valley which it had cost him some trouble to find. Then he pressed
+on eagerly, and soon came to the little hollow in the wood; down he
+went, burrowing like a mole into the earth; the magic root did its
+work, and at last the treasure lay before his eyes. You may imagine how
+gaily Peter filled his sack with as much gold as he could carry, and
+how he staggered up the seventy-seven steps with a heart full of hope
+and delight. He did not quite trust the gnome’s promises of safety, and
+was in such haste to find himself once more in the light of day that he
+looked neither to the right nor the left, and could not afterwards
+remember whether the walls and pillars had sparkled with jewels or not.
+
+However, all went well—he neither saw nor heard anything alarming; the
+only thing that happened was that the great iron-barred door shut with
+a crash as soon as he was fairly outside it, and then he remembered
+that he had left the magic root behind him, so he could not go back for
+another load of treasure. But even that did not trouble Peter much; he
+was quite satisfied with what he had already. After he had faithfully
+done everything according to Father Martin’s instructions, and pressed
+the earth well back into the hollow, he sat down to consider how he
+could bring his treasure back to his native place, and enjoy it there,
+without being forced to share it with his scolding wife, who would give
+him no peace if she once found out about it. At last, after much
+thinking, he hit upon a plan. He carried his sack to the nearest
+village, and there bought a wheelbarrow, a strong barrel, and a
+quantity of nails. Then he packed his gold into the barrel, covered it
+well with a layer of nails, hoisted it on to the wheelbarrow with some
+difficulty, and set off with it upon his homeward way. At one place
+upon the road he met a handsome young man who seemed by his downcast
+air to be in some great trouble. Father Peter, who wished everybody to
+be as happy as he was himself, greeted him cheerfully, and asked where
+he was going, to which he answered sadly:
+
+“Into the wide world, good father, or out of it, wherever my feet may
+chance to carry me.”
+
+“Why out of it?” said Peter. “What has the world been doing to you?”
+
+“It has done nothing to me, nor I to it,” he replied. “Nevertheless
+there is not anything left in it for me.”
+
+Father Peter did his best to cheer the young man up, and invited him to
+sup with him at the first inn they came to, thinking that perhaps
+hunger and poverty were causing the stranger’s trouble. But when good
+food was set before him he seemed to forget to eat. So Peter perceived
+that what ailed his guest was sorrow of heart, and asked him kindly to
+tell him his story.
+
+“Where is the good, father?” said he. “You can give me neither help nor
+comfort.”
+
+“Who knows?” answered Master Peter. “I might be able to do something
+for you. Often enough in life help comes to us from the most unexpected
+quarter.”
+
+The young man, thus encouraged, began his tale.
+
+“I am,” said he, “a crossbow-man in the service of a noble count, in
+whose castle I was brought up. Not long ago my master went on a
+journey, and brought back with him, amongst other treasures, the
+portrait of a fair maiden so sweet and lovely that I lost my heart at
+first sight of it, and could think of nothing but how I might seek her
+out and marry her. The count had told me her name, and where she lived,
+but laughed at my love, and absolutely refused to give me leave to go
+in search of her, so I was forced to run away from the castle by night.
+I soon reached the little town where the maiden dwelt; but there fresh
+difficulties awaited me. She lived under the care of her mother, who
+was so severe that she was never allowed to look out of the window, or
+set her foot outside the door alone, and how to make friends with her I
+did not know. But at last I dressed myself as an old woman, and knocked
+boldly at her door. The lovely maiden herself opened it, and so charmed
+me that I came near forgetting my disguise; but I soon recovered my
+wits, and begged her to work a fine table-cloth for me, for she is
+reported to be the best needlewoman in all the country round. Now I was
+free to go and see her often under the pretence of seeing how the work
+was going on, and one day, when her mother had gone to the town, I
+ventured to throw off my disguise, and tell her of my love. She was
+startled at first; but I persuaded her to listen to me, and I soon saw
+that I was not displeasing to her, though she scolded me gently for my
+disobedience to my master, and my deceit in disguising myself. But when
+I begged her to marry me, she told me sadly that her mother would scorn
+a penniless wooer, and implored me to go away at once, lest trouble
+should fall upon her.
+
+“Bitter as it was to me, I was forced to go when she bade me, and I
+have wandered about ever since, with grief gnawing at my heart; for how
+can a masterless man, without money or goods, ever hope to win the
+lovely Lucia?”
+
+Master Peter, who had been listening attentively, pricked up his ears
+at the sound of his daughter’s name, and very soon found out that it
+was indeed with her that this young man was so deeply in love.
+
+“Your story is strange indeed,” said he. “But where is the father of
+this maiden—why do you not ask him for her hand? He might well take
+your part, and be glad to have you for his son-in-law.”
+
+“Alas!” said the young man, “her father is a wandering good-for-naught,
+who has forsaken wife and child, and gone off—who knows where? The wife
+complains of him bitterly enough, and scolds my dear maiden when she
+takes her father’s part.”
+
+Father Peter was somewhat amused by this speech; but he liked the young
+man well, and saw that he was the very person he needed to enable him
+to enjoy his wealth in peace, without being separated from his dear
+daughter.
+
+“If you will take my advice,” said he, “I promise you that you shall
+marry this maiden whom you love so much, and that before you are many
+days older.”
+
+“Comrade,” cried Friedlin indignantly, for he thought Peter did but
+jest with him, “it is ill done to mock at an unhappy man; you had
+better find someone else who will let himself be taken in with your
+fine promises.” And up he sprang, and was going off hastily, when
+Master Peter caught him by the arm.
+
+“Stay, hothead!” he cried; “it is no jest, and I am prepared to make
+good my words.”
+
+Thereupon he showed him the treasure hidden under the nails, and
+unfolded to him his plan, which was that Friedlin should play the part
+of the rich son-in-law, and keep a still tongue, that they might enjoy
+their wealth together in peace.
+
+The young man was overjoyed at this sudden change in his fortunes, and
+did not know how to thank father Peter for his generosity. They took
+the road again at dawn the next morning, and soon reached a town, where
+Friedlin equipped himself as a gallant wooer should. Father Peter
+filled his pockets with gold for the wedding dowry, and agreed with him
+that when all was settled he should secretly send him word that Peter
+might send off the waggon load of house plenishings with which the rich
+bridegroom was to make such a stir in the little town where the bride
+lived. As they parted, father Peter’s last commands to Friedlin were to
+guard well their secret, and not even to tell it to Lucia till she was
+his wife.
+
+Master Peter long enjoyed the profits of his journey to the mountain,
+and no rumour of it ever got abroad. In his old age his prosperity was
+so great that he himself did not know how rich he was; but it was
+always supposed that the money was Friedlin’s. He and his beloved wife
+lived in the greatest happiness and peace, and rose to great honour in
+the town. And to this day, when the citizens wish to describe a wealthy
+man, they say: “As rich as Peter Bloch’s son-in-law!”
+
+
+
+
+The Cottager And His Cat
+
+
+Once upon a time there lived an old man and his wife in a dirty,
+tumble-down cottage, not very far from the splendid palace where the
+king and queen dwelt. In spite of the wretched state of the hut, which
+many people declared was too bad even for a pig to live in, the old man
+was very rich, for he was a great miser, and lucky besides, and would
+often go without food all day sooner than change one of his beloved
+gold pieces.
+
+But after a while he found that he had starved himself once too often.
+He fell ill, and had no strength to get well again, and in a few days
+he died, leaving his wife and one son behind him.
+
+The night following his death, the son dreamed that an unknown man
+appeared to him and said: “Listen to me; your father is dead and your
+mother will soon die, and all their riches will belong to you. Half of
+his wealth is ill-gotten, and this you must give back to the poor from
+whom he squeezed it. The other half you must throw into the sea. Watch,
+however, as the money sinks into the water, and if anything should
+swim, catch it and keep it, even if it is nothing more than a bit of
+paper.”
+
+Then the man vanished, and the youth awoke.
+
+The remembrance of his dream troubled him greatly. He did not want to
+part with the riches that his father had left him, for he had known all
+his life what it was to be cold and hungry, and now he had hoped for a
+little comfort and pleasure. Still, he was honest and good-hearted, and
+if his father had come wrongfully by his wealth he felt he could never
+enjoy it, and at last he made up his mind to do as he had been bidden.
+He found out who were the people who were poorest in the village, and
+spent half of his money in helping them, and the other half he put in
+his pocket. From a rock that jutted right out into the sea he flung it
+in. In a moment it was out of sight, and no man could have told the
+spot where it had sunk, except for a tiny scrap of paper floating on
+the water. He stretched down carefully and managed to reach it, and on
+opening it found six shillings wrapped inside. This was now all the
+money he had in the world.
+
+The young man stood and looked at it thoughtfully. “Well, I can’t do
+much with this,” he said to himself; but, after all, six shillings were
+better than nothing, and he wrapped them up again and slipped them into
+his coat.
+
+He worked in his garden for the next few weeks, and he and his mother
+contrived to live on the fruit and vegetables he got out of it, and
+then she too died suddenly. The poor fellow felt very sad when he had
+laid her in her grave, and with a heavy heart he wandered into the
+forest, not knowing where he was going. By-and-by he began to get
+hungry, and seeing a small hut in front of him, he knocked at the door
+and asked if they could give him some milk. The old woman who opened it
+begged him to come in, adding kindly, that if he wanted a night’s
+lodging he might have it without its costing him anything.
+
+Two women and three men were at supper when he entered, and silently
+made room for him to sit down by them. When he had eaten he began to
+look about him, and was surprised to see an animal sitting by the fire
+different from anything he had ever noticed before. It was grey in
+colour, and not very big; but its eyes were large and very bright, and
+it seemed to be singing in an odd way, quite unlike any animal in the
+forest. “What is the name of that strange little creature?” asked he.
+And they answered, “We call it a cat.”
+
+“I should like to buy it—if it is not too dear,” said the young man;
+“it would be company for me.” And they told him that he might have it
+for six shillings, if he cared to give so much. The young man took out
+his precious bit of paper, handed them the six shillings, and the next
+morning bade them farewell, with the cat lying snugly in his cloak.
+
+For the whole day they wandered through meadows and forests, till in
+the evening they reached a house. The young fellow knocked at the door
+and asked the old man who opened it if he could rest there that night,
+adding that he had no money to pay for it. “Then I must give it to
+you,” answered the man, and led him into a room where two women and two
+men were sitting at supper. One of the women was the old man’s wife,
+the other his daughter. He placed the cat on the mantel shelf, and they
+all crowded round to examine this strange beast, and the cat rubbed
+itself against them, and held out its paw, and sang to them; and the
+women were delighted, and gave it everything that a cat could eat, and
+a great deal more besides.
+
+After hearing the youth’s story, and how he had nothing in the world
+left him except his cat, the old man advised him to go to the palace,
+which was only a few miles distant, and take counsel of the king, who
+was kind to everyone, and would certainly be his friend. The young man
+thanked him, and said he would gladly take his advice; and early next
+morning he set out for the royal palace.
+
+He sent a message to the king to beg for an audience, and received a
+reply that he was to go into the great hall, where he would find his
+Majesty.
+
+The king was at dinner with his court when the young man entered, and
+he signed to him to come near. The youth bowed low, and then gazed in
+surprise at the crowd of little black creatures who were running about
+the floor, and even on the table itself. Indeed, they were so bold that
+they snatched pieces of food from the King’s own plate, and if he drove
+them away, tried to bite his hands, so that he could not eat his food,
+and his courtiers fared no better.
+
+“What sort of animals are these?” asked the youth of one of the ladies
+sitting near him.
+
+“They are called rats,” answered the king, who had overheard the
+question, “and for years we have tried some way of putting an end to
+them, but it is impossible. They come into our very beds.”
+
+At this moment something was seen flying through the air. The cat was
+on the table, and with two or three shakes a number of rats were lying
+dead round him. Then a great scuffling of feet was heard, and in a few
+minutes the hall was clear.
+
+For some minutes the King and his courtiers only looked at each other
+in astonishment. “What kind of animal is that which can work magic of
+this sort?” asked he. And the young man told him that it was called a
+cat, and that he had bought it for six shillings.
+
+And the King answered: “Because of the luck you have brought me, in
+freeing my palace from the plague which has tormented me for many
+years, I will give you the choice of two things. Either you shall be my
+Prime Minister, or else you shall marry my daughter and reign after me.
+Say, which shall it be?”
+
+“The princess and the kingdom,” said the young man.
+
+And so it was.
+
+[From Islandische Marchen.]
+
+
+
+
+The Prince Who Would Seek Immortality
+
+
+Once upon a time, in the very middle of the middle of a large kingdom,
+there was a town, and in the town a palace, and in the palace a king.
+This king had one son whom his father thought was wiser and cleverer
+than any son ever was before, and indeed his father had spared no pains
+to make him so. He had been very careful in choosing his tutors and
+governors when he was a boy, and when he became a youth he sent him to
+travel, so that he might see the ways of other people, and find that
+they were often as good as his own.
+
+It was now a year since the prince had returned home, for his father
+felt that it was time that his son should learn how to rule the kingdom
+which would one day be his. But during his long absence the prince
+seemed to have changed his character altogether. From being a merry and
+light-hearted boy, he had grown into a gloomy and thoughtful man. The
+king knew of nothing that could have produced such an alteration. He
+vexed himself about it from morning till night, till at length an
+explanation occurred to him—the young man was in love!
+
+Now the prince never talked about his feelings—for the matter of that
+he scarcely talked at all; and the father knew that if he was to come
+to the bottom of the prince’s dismal face, he would have to begin. So
+one day, after dinner, he took his son by the arm and led him into
+another room, hung entirely with the pictures of beautiful maidens,
+each one more lovely than the other.
+
+“My dear boy,” he said, “you are very sad; perhaps after all your
+wanderings it is dull for you here all alone with me. It would be much
+better if you would marry, and I have collected here the portraits of
+the most beautiful women in the world of a rank equal to your own.
+Choose which among them you would like for a wife, and I will send an
+embassy to her father to ask for her hand.”
+
+“Alas! your Majesty,” answered the prince, “it is not love or marriage
+that makes me so gloomy; but the thought, which haunts me day and
+night, that all men, even kings, must die. Never shall I be happy again
+till I have found a kingdom where death is unknown. And I have
+determined to give myself no rest till I have discovered the Land of
+Immortality.
+
+The old king heard him with dismay; things were worse than he thought.
+He tried to reason with his son, and told him that during all these
+years he had been looking forward to his return, in order to resign his
+throne and its cares, which pressed so heavily upon him. But it was in
+vain that he talked; the prince would listen to nothing, and the
+following morning buckled on his sword and set forth on his journey.
+
+He had been travelling for many days, and had left his fatherland
+behind him, when close to the road he came upon a huge tree, and on its
+topmost bough an eagle was sitting shaking the branches with all his
+might. This seemed so strange and so unlike an eagle, that the prince
+stood still with surprise, and the bird saw him and flew to the ground.
+The moment its feet touched the ground he changed into a king.
+
+“Why do you look so astonished?” he asked.
+
+“I was wondering why you shook the boughs so fiercely,” answered the
+prince.
+
+“I am condemned to do this, for neither I nor any of my kindred can die
+till I have rooted up this great tree,” replied the king of the eagles.
+“But it is now evening, and I need work no more to-day. Come to my
+house with me, and be my guest for the night.”
+
+The prince accepted gratefully the eagle’s invitation, for he was tired
+and hungry. They were received at the palace by the king’s beautiful
+daughter, who gave orders that dinner should be laid for them at once.
+While they were eating, the eagle questioned his guest about his
+travels, and if he was wandering for pleasure’s sake, or with any
+special aim. Then the prince told him everything, and how he could
+never turn back till he had discovered the Land of Immortality.
+
+“Dear brother,” said the eagle, “you have discovered it already, and it
+rejoices my heart to think that you will stay with us. Have you not
+just heard me say that death has no power either over myself or any of
+my kindred till that great tree is rooted up? It will take me six
+hundred years’ hard work to do that; so marry my daughter and let us
+all live happily together here. After all, six hundred years is an
+eternity!”
+
+“Ah, dear king,” replied the young man, “your offer is very tempting!
+But at the end of six hundred years we should have to die, so we should
+be no better off! No, I must go on till I find the country where there
+is no death at all.”
+
+Then the princess spoke, and tried to persuade the guest to change his
+mind, but he sorrowfully shook his head. At length, seeing that his
+resolution was firmly fixed, she took from a cabinet a little box which
+contained her picture, and gave it to him saying:
+
+“As you will not stay with us, prince, accept this box, which will
+sometimes recall us to your memory. If you are tired of travelling
+before you come to the Land of Immortality, open this box and look at
+my picture, and you will be borne along either on earth or in the air,
+quick as thought, or swift as the whirlwind.”
+
+The prince thanked her for her gift, which he placed in his tunic, and
+sorrowfully bade the eagle and his daughter farewell.
+
+Never was any present in the world as useful as that little box, and
+many times did he bless the kind thought of the princess. One evening
+it had carried him to the top of a high mountain, where he saw a man
+with a bald head, busily engaged in digging up spadefuls of earth and
+throwing them in a basket. When the basket was full he took it away and
+returned with an empty one, which he likewise filled. The prince stood
+and watched him for a little, till the bald-headed man looked up and
+said to him: “Dear brother, what surprises you so much?”
+
+“I was wondering why you were filling the basket,” replied the prince.
+
+“Oh!” replied the man, “I am condemned to do this, for neither I nor
+any of my family can die till I have dug away the whole of this
+mountain and made it level with the plain. But, come, it is almost
+dark, and I shall work no longer.” And he plucked a leaf from a tree
+close by, and from a rough digger he was changed into a stately
+bald-headed king. “Come home with me,” he added; “you must be tired and
+hungry, and my daughter will have supper ready for us.” The prince
+accepted gladly, and they went back to the palace, where the
+bald-headed king’s daughter, who was still more beautiful than the
+other princess, welcomed them at the door and led the way into a large
+hall and to a table covered with silver dishes. While they were eating,
+the bald-headed king asked the prince how he had happened to wander so
+far, and the young man told him all about it, and how he was seeking
+the Land of Immortality. “You have found it already,” answered the
+king, “for, as I said, neither I nor my family can die till I have
+levelled this great mountain; and that will take full eight hundred
+years longer. Stay here with us and marry my daughter. Eight hundred
+years is surely long enough to live.”
+
+“Oh, certainly,” answered the prince; “but, all the same, I would
+rather go and seek the land where there is no death at all.”
+
+So next morning he bade them farewell, though the princess begged him
+to stay with all her might; and when she found that she could not
+persuade him she gave him as a remembrance a gold ring. This ring was
+still more useful than the box, because when one wished oneself at any
+place one was there directly, without even the trouble of flying to it
+through the air. The prince put it on his finger, and thanking her
+heartily, went his way.
+
+He walked on for some distance, and then he recollected the ring and
+thought he would try if the princess had spoken truly as to its powers.
+“I wish I was at the end of the world,” he said, shutting his eyes, and
+when he opened them he was standing in a street full of marble palaces.
+The men who passed him were tall and strong, and their clothes were
+magnificent. He stopped some of them and asked in all the twenty-seven
+languages he knew what was the name of the city, but no one answered
+him. Then his heart sank within him; what should he do in this strange
+place if nobody could understand anything? he said. Suddenly his eyes
+fell upon a man dressed after the fashion of his native country, and he
+ran up to him and spoke to him in his own tongue. “What city is this,
+my friend?” he inquired.
+
+“It is the capital city of the Blue Kingdom,” replied the man, “but the
+king himself is dead, and his daughter is now the ruler.”
+
+With this news the prince was satisfied, and begged his countryman to
+show him the way to the young queen’s palace. The man led him through
+several streets into a large square, one side of which was occupied by
+a splendid building that seemed borne up on slender pillars of soft
+green marble. In front was a flight of steps, and on these the queen
+was sitting wrapped in a veil of shining silver mist, listening to the
+complaints of her people and dealing out justice. When the prince came
+up she saw directly that he was no ordinary man, and telling her
+chamberlain to dismiss the rest of her petitioners for that day, she
+signed to the prince to follow her into the palace. Luckily she had
+been taught his language as a child, so they had no difficulty in
+talking together.
+
+The prince told all his story and how he was journeying in search of
+the Land of Immortality. When he had finished, the princess, who had
+listened attentively, rose, and taking his arm, led him to the door of
+another room, the floor of which was made entirely of needles, stuck so
+close together that there was not room for a single needle more.
+
+“Prince,” she said, turning to him, “you see these needles? Well, know
+that neither I nor any of my family can die till I have worn out these
+needles in sewing. It will take at least a thousand years for that.
+Stay here, and share my throne; a thousand years is long enough to
+live!”
+
+“Certainly,” answered he; “still, at the end of the thousand years I
+should have to die! No, I must find the land where there is no death.”
+
+The queen did all she could to persuade him to stay, but as her words
+proved useless, at length she gave it up. Then she said to him: “As you
+will not stay, take this little golden rod as a remembrance of me. It
+has the power to become anything you wish it to be, when you are in
+need.”
+
+So the prince thanked her, and putting the rod in his pocket, went his
+way.
+
+Scarcely had he left the town behind him when he came to a broad river
+which no man might pass, for he was standing at the end of the world,
+and this was the river which flowed round it. Not knowing what to do
+next, he walked a little distance up the bank, and there, over his
+head, a beautiful city was floating in the air. He longed to get to it,
+but how? neither road nor bridge was anywhere to be seen, yet the city
+drew him upwards, and he felt that here at last was the country which
+he sought. Suddenly he remembered the golden rod which the mist-veiled
+queen had given him. With a beating heart he flung it to the ground,
+wishing with all his might that it should turn into a bridge, and
+fearing that, after all, this might prove beyond its power. But no,
+instead of the rod, there stood a golden ladder, leading straight up to
+the city of the air. He was about to enter the golden gates, when there
+sprang at him a wondrous beast, whose like he had never seen. “Out
+sword from the sheath,” cried the prince, springing back with a cry.
+And the sword leapt from the scabbard and cut off some of the monster’s
+heads, but others grew again directly, so that the prince, pale with
+terror, stood where he was, calling for help, and put his sword back in
+the sheath again.
+
+The queen of the city heard the noise and looked from her window to see
+what was happening. Summoning one of her servants, she bade him go and
+rescue the stranger, and bring him to her. The prince thankfully obeyed
+her orders, and entered her presence.
+
+The moment she looked at him, the queen also felt that he was no
+ordinary man, and she welcomed him graciously, and asked him what had
+brought him to the city. In answer the prince told all his story, and
+how he had travelled long and far in search of the Land of Immortality.
+
+“You have found it,” said she, “for I am queen over life and over
+death. Here you can dwell among the immortals.”
+
+A thousand years had passed since the prince first entered the city,
+but they had flown so fast that the time seemed no more than six
+months. There had not been one instant of the thousand years that the
+prince was not happy till one night when he dreamed of his father and
+mother. Then the longing for his home came upon him with a rush, and in
+the morning he told the Queen of the Immortals that he must go and see
+his father and mother once more. The queen stared at him with
+amazement, and cried: “Why, prince, are you out of your senses? It is
+more than eight hundred years since your father and mother died! There
+will not even be their dust remaining.”
+
+“I must go all the same,” said he.
+
+“Well, do not be in a hurry,” continued the queen, understanding that
+he would not be prevented. “Wait till I make some preparations for your
+journey.” So she unlocked her great treasure chest, and took out two
+beautiful flasks, one of gold and one of silver, which she hung round
+his neck. Then she showed him a little trap-door in one corner of the
+room, and said: “Fill the silver flask with this water, which is below
+the trap-door. It is enchanted, and whoever you sprinkle with the water
+will become a dead man at once, even if he had lived a thousand years.
+The golden flask you must fill with the water here,” she added,
+pointing to a well in another corner. “It springs from the rock of
+eternity; you have only to sprinkle a few drops on a body and it will
+come to life again, if it had been a thousand years dead.”
+
+The prince thanked the queen for her gifts, and, bidding her farewell,
+went on his journey.
+
+He soon arrived in the town where the mist-veiled queen reigned in her
+palace, but the whole city had changed, and he could scarcely find his
+way through the streets. In the palace itself all was still, and he
+wandered through the rooms without meeting anyone to stop him. At last
+he entered the queen’s own chamber, and there she lay, with her
+embroidery still in her hands, fast asleep. He pulled at her dress, but
+she did not waken. Then a dreadful idea came over him, and he ran to
+the chamber where the needles had been kept, but it was quite empty.
+The queen had broken the last over the work she held in her hand, and
+with it the spell was broken too, and she lay dead.
+
+Quick as thought the prince pulled out the golden flask, and sprinkled
+some drops of the water over the queen. In a moment she moved gently,
+and raising her head, opened her eyes.
+
+“Oh, my dear friend, I am so glad you wakened me; I must have slept a
+long while!”
+
+“You would have slept till eternity,” answered the prince, “if I had
+not been here to waken you.”
+
+At these words the queen remembered about the needles. She knew now
+that she had been dead, and that the prince had restored her to life.
+She gave him thanks from her heart for what he had done, and vowed she
+would repay him if she ever got a chance.
+
+The prince took his leave, and set out for the country of the
+bald-headed king. As he drew near the place he saw that the whole
+mountain had been dug away, and that the king was lying dead on the
+ground, his spade and bucket beside him. But as soon as the water from
+the golden flask touched him he yawned and stretched himself, and
+slowly rose to his feet. “Oh, my dear friend, I am so glad to see you,”
+cried he, “I must have slept a long while!”
+
+“You would have slept till eternity if I had not been here to waken
+you,” answered the prince. And the king remembered the mountain, and
+the spell, and vowed to repay the service if he ever had a chance.
+
+Further along the road which led to his old home the prince found the
+great tree torn up by its roots, and the king of the eagles sitting
+dead on the ground, with his wings outspread as if for flight. A
+flutter ran through the feathers as the drops of water fell on them,
+and the eagle lifted his beak from the ground and said: “Oh, how long I
+must have slept! How can I thank you for having awakened me, my dear,
+good friend!”
+
+“You would have slept till eternity if I had not been here to waken
+you”; answered the prince. Then the king remembered about the tree, and
+knew that he had been dead, and promised, if ever he had the chance, to
+repay what the prince had done for him.
+
+At last he reached the capital of his father’s kingdom, but on reaching
+the place where the royal palace had stood, instead of the marble
+galleries where he used to play, there lay a great sulphur lake, its
+blue flames darting into the air. How was he to find his father and
+mother, and bring them back to life, if they were lying at the bottom
+of that horrible water? He turned away sadly and wandered back into the
+streets, hardly knowing where he was going; when a voice behind him
+cried: “Stop, prince, I have caught you at last! It is a thousand years
+since I first began to seek you.” And there beside him stood the old,
+white-bearded, figure of Death. Swiftly he drew the ring from his
+finger, and the king of the eagles, the bald-headed king, and the
+mist-veiled queen, hastened to his rescue. In an instant they had
+seized upon Death and held him tight, till the prince should have time
+to reach the Land of Immortality. But they did not know how quickly
+Death could fly, and the prince had only one foot across the border,
+when he felt the other grasped from behind, and the voice of Death
+calling: “Halt! now you are mine.”
+
+The Queen of the Immortals was watching from her window, and cried to
+Death that he had no power in her kingdom, and that he must seek his
+prey elsewhere.
+
+“Quite true,” answered Death; “but his foot is in my kingdom, and that
+belongs to me!”
+
+“At any rate half of him is mine,” replied the Queen, “and what good
+can the other half do you? Half a man is no use, either to you or to
+me! But this once I will allow you to cross into my kingdom, and we
+will decide by a wager whose he is.”
+
+And so it was settled. Death stepped across the narrow line that
+surrounds the Land of Immortality, and the queen proposed the wager
+which was to decide the prince’s fate. “I will throw him up into the
+sky,” she said, “right to the back of the morning star, and if he falls
+down into this city, then he is mine. But if he should fall outside the
+walls, he shall belong to you.”
+
+In the middle of the city was a great open square, and here the queen
+wished the wager to take place. When all was ready, she put her foot
+under the foot of the prince and swung him into the air. Up, up, he
+went, high amongst the stars, and no man’s eyes could follow him. Had
+she thrown him up straight? the queen wondered anxiously, for, if not,
+he would fall outside the walls, and she would lose him for ever. The
+moments seemed long while she and Death stood gazing up into the air,
+waiting to know whose prize the prince would be. Suddenly they both
+caught sight of a tiny speck no bigger than a wasp, right up in the
+blue. Was he coming straight? No! Yes! But as he was nearing the city,
+a light wind sprang up, and swayed him in the direction of the wall.
+Another second and he would have fallen half over it, when the queen
+sprang forward, seized him in her arms, and flung him into the castle.
+Then she commanded her servants to cast Death out of the city, which
+they did, with such hard blows that he never dared to show his face
+again in the Land of Immortality.
+
+[From Ungarischen Volksmurchen.]
+
+
+
+
+The Stone-Cutter
+
+
+Once upon a time there lived a stone-cutter, who went every day to a
+great rock in the side of a big mountain and cut out slabs for
+gravestones or for houses. He understood very well the kinds of stones
+wanted for the different purposes, and as he was a careful workman he
+had plenty of customers. For a long time he was quite happy and
+contented, and asked for nothing better than what he had.
+
+Now in the mountain dwelt a spirit which now and then appeared to men,
+and helped them in many ways to become rich and prosperous. The
+stone-cutter, however, had never seen this spirit, and only shook his
+head, with an unbelieving air, when anyone spoke of it. But a time was
+coming when he learned to change his opinion.
+
+One day the stone-cutter carried a gravestone to the house of a rich
+man, and saw there all sorts of beautiful things, of which he had never
+even dreamed. Suddenly his daily work seemed to grow harder and
+heavier, and he said to himself: “Oh, if only I were a rich man, and
+could sleep in a bed with silken curtains and golden tassels, how happy
+I should be!”
+
+And a voice answered him: “Your wish is heard; a rich man you shall
+be!”
+
+At the sound of the voice the stone-cutter looked round, but could see
+nobody. He thought it was all his fancy, and picked up his tools and
+went home, for he did not feel inclined to do any more work that day.
+But when he reached the little house where he lived, he stood still
+with amazement, for instead of his wooden hut was a stately palace
+filled with splendid furniture, and most splendid of all was the bed,
+in every respect like the one he had envied. He was nearly beside
+himself with joy, and in his new life the old one was soon forgotten.
+
+It was now the beginning of summer, and each day the sun blazed more
+fiercely. One morning the heat was so great that the stone-cutter could
+scarcely breathe, and he determined he would stay at home till the
+evening. He was rather dull, for he had never learned how to amuse
+himself, and was peeping through the closed blinds to see what was
+going on in the street, when a little carriage passed by, drawn by
+servants dressed in blue and silver. In the carriage sat a prince, and
+over his head a golden umbrella was held, to protect him from the sun’s
+rays.
+
+“Oh, if I were only a prince!” said the stone-cutter to himself, as the
+carriage vanished round the corner. “Oh, if I were only a prince, and
+could go in such a carriage and have a golden umbrella held over me,
+how happy I should be!”
+
+And the voice of the mountain spirit answered: “Your wish is heard; a
+prince you shall be.”
+
+And a prince he was. Before his carriage rode one company of men and
+another behind it; servants dressed in scarlet and gold bore him along,
+the coveted umbrella was held over his head, everything heart could
+desire was his. But yet it was not enough. He looked round still for
+something to wish for, and when he saw that in spite of the water he
+poured on his grass the rays of the sun scorched it, and that in spite
+of the umbrella held over his head each day his face grew browner and
+browner, he cried in his anger: “The sun is mightier than I; oh, if I
+were only the sun!”
+
+And the mountain spirit answered: “Your wish is heard; the sun you
+shall be.”
+
+And the sun he was, and felt himself proud in his power. He shot his
+beams above and below, on earth and in heaven; he burnt up the grass in
+the fields and scorched the faces of princes as well as of poorer folk.
+But in a short time he began to grow tired of his might, for there
+seemed nothing left for him to do. Discontent once more filled his
+soul, and when a cloud covered his face, and hid the earth from him, he
+cried in his anger: “Does the cloud hold captive my rays, and is it
+mightier than I? Oh, that I were a cloud, and mightier than any!”
+
+And the mountain spirit answered: “Your wish is heard; a cloud you
+shall be!”
+
+And a cloud he was, and lay between the sun and the earth. He caught
+the sun’s beams and held them, and to his joy the earth grew green
+again and flowers blossomed. But that was not enough for him, and for
+days and weeks he poured forth rain till the rivers overflowed their
+banks, and the crops of rice stood in water. Towns and villages were
+destroyed by the power of the rain, only the great rock on the mountain
+side remained unmoved. The cloud was amazed at the sight, and cried in
+wonder: “Is the rock, then, mightier than I? Oh, if I were only the
+rock!”
+
+And the mountain spirit answered: “Your wish is heard; the rock you
+shall be!
+
+And the rock he was, and gloried in his power. Proudly he stood, and
+neither the heat of the sun nor the force of the rain could move him.
+“This is better than all!” he said to himself. But one day he heard a
+strange noise at his feet, and when he looked down to see what it could
+be, he saw a stone-cutter driving tools into his surface. Even while he
+looked a trembling feeling ran all through him, and a great block broke
+off and fell upon the ground. Then he cried in his wrath: “Is a mere
+child of earth mightier than a rock? Oh, if I were only a man!”
+
+And the mountain spirit answered: “Your wish is heard. A man once more
+you shall be!”
+
+And a man he was, and in the sweat of his brow he toiled again at his
+trade of stone-cutting. His bed was hard and his food scanty, but he
+had learned to be satisfied with it, and did not long to be something
+or somebody else. And as he never asked for things he had not got, or
+desired to be greater and mightier than other people, he was happy at
+last, and heard the voice of the mountain spirit no longer.
+
+[From Japanische Mährchen.]
+
+
+
+
+The Gold-Bearded Man
+
+
+Once upon a time there lived a great king who had a wife and one son
+whom he loved very much. The boy was still young when, one day, the
+king said to his wife: “I feel that the hour of my death draws near,
+and I want you to promise that you will never take another husband but
+will give up your life to the care of our son.”
+
+The queen burst into tears at these words, and sobbed out that she
+would never, never marry again, and that her son’s welfare should be
+her first thought as long as she lived. Her promise comforted the
+troubled heart of the king, and a few days after he died, at peace with
+himself and with the world.
+
+But no sooner was the breath out of his body, than the queen said to
+herself, “To promise is one thing, and to keep is quite another.” And
+hardly was the last spadeful of earth flung over the coffin than she
+married a noble from a neighbouring country, and got him made king
+instead of the young prince. Her new husband was a cruel, wicked man,
+who treated his stepson very badly, and gave him scarcely anything to
+eat, and only rags to wear; and he would certainly have killed the boy
+but for fear of the people.
+
+Now by the palace grounds there ran a brook, but instead of being a
+water-brook it was a milk-brook, and both rich and poor flocked to it
+daily and drew as much milk as they chose. The first thing the new king
+did when he was seated on the throne, was to forbid anyone to go near
+the brook, on pain of being seized by the watchmen. And this was purely
+spite, for there was plenty of milk for everybody.
+
+For some days no one dared venture near the banks of the stream, but at
+length some of the watchmen noticed that early in the mornings, just at
+dawn, a man with a gold beard came down to the brook with a pail, which
+he filled up to the brim with milk, and then vanished like smoke before
+they could get near enough to see who he was. So they went and told the
+king what they had seen.
+
+At first the king would not believe their story, but as they persisted
+it was quite true, he said that he would go and watch the stream that
+night himself. With the earliest streaks of dawn the gold-bearded man
+appeared, and filled his pail as before. Then in an instant he had
+vanished, as if the earth had swallowed him up.
+
+The king stood staring with eyes and mouth open at the place where the
+man had disappeared. He had never seen him before, that was certain;
+but what mattered much more was how to catch him, and what should be
+done with him when he was caught? He would have a cage built as a
+prison for him, and everyone would talk of it, for in other countries
+thieves were put in prison, and it was long indeed since any king had
+used a cage. It was all very well to plan, and even to station a
+watchman behind every bush, but it was of no use, for the man was never
+caught. They would creep up to him softly on the grass, as he was
+stooping to fill his pail, and just as they stretched out their hands
+to seize him, he vanished before their eyes. Time after time this
+happened, till the king grew mad with rage, and offered a large reward
+to anyone who could tell him how to capture his enemy.
+
+The first person that came with a scheme was an old soldier who
+promised the king that if he would only put some bread and bacon and a
+flask of wine on the bank of the stream, the gold-bearded man would be
+sure to eat and drink, and they could shake some powder into the wine,
+which would send him to sleep at once. After that there was nothing to
+do but to shut him in the cage.
+
+This idea pleased the king, and he ordered bread and bacon and a flask
+of drugged wine to be placed on the bank of the stream, and the
+watchers to be redoubled. Then, full of hope, he awaited the result.
+
+Everything turned out just as the soldier had said. Early next morning
+the gold-bearded man came down to the brook, ate, drank, and fell sound
+asleep, so that the watchers easily bound him, and carried him off to
+the palace. In a moment the king had him fast in the golden cage, and
+showed him, with ferocious joy, to the strangers who were visiting his
+court. The poor captive, when he awoke from his drunken sleep, tried to
+talk to them, but no one would listen to him, so he shut himself up
+altogether, and the people who came to stare took him for a dumb man of
+the woods. He wept and moaned to himself all day, and would hardly
+touch food, though, in dread that he should die and escape his
+tormentors, the king ordered his head cook to send him dishes from the
+royal table.
+
+The gold-bearded man had been in captivity about a month, when the king
+was forced to make war upon a neighbouring country, and left the
+palace, to take command of his army. But before he went he called his
+stepson to him and said:
+
+“Listen, boy, to what I tell you. While I am away I trust the care of
+my prisoner to you. See that he has plenty to eat and drink, but be
+careful that he does not escape, or even walk about the room. If I
+return and find him gone, you will pay for it by a terrible death.”
+
+The young prince was thankful that his stepfather was going to the war,
+and secretly hoped he might never come back. Directly he had ridden off
+the boy went to the room where the cage was kept, and never left it
+night and day. He even played his games beside it.
+
+One day he was shooting at a mark with a silver bow; one of his arrows
+fell into the golden cage.
+
+“Please give me my arrow,” said the prince, running up to him; but the
+gold-bearded man answered:
+
+“No, I shall not give it to you unless you let me out of my cage.”
+
+“I may not let you out,” replied the boy, “for if I do my stepfather
+says that I shall have to die a horrible death when he returns from the
+war. My arrow can be of no use to you, so give it to me.”
+
+The man handed the arrow through the bars, but when he had done so he
+begged harder than ever that the prince would open the door and set him
+free. Indeed, he prayed so earnestly that the prince’s heart was
+touched, for he was a tender-hearted boy who pitied the sorrows of
+other people. So he shot back the bolt, and the gold-bearded man
+stepped out into the world.
+
+“I will repay you a thousand fold for that good deed.” said the man,
+and then he vanished. The prince began to think what he should say to
+the king when he came back; then he wondered whether it would be wise
+to wait for his stepfather’s return and run the risk of the dreadful
+death which had been promised him. “No,” he said to himself, “I am
+afraid to stay. Perhaps the world will be kinder to me than he has
+been.”
+
+Unseen he stole out when twilight fell, and for many days he wandered
+over mountains and through forests and valleys without knowing where he
+was going or what he should do. He had only the berries for food, when,
+one morning, he saw a wood-pigeon sitting on a bough. In an instant he
+had fitted an arrow to his bow, and was taking aim at the bird,
+thinking what a good meal he would make off him, when his weapon fell
+to the ground at the sound of the pigeon’s voice:
+
+“Do not shoot, I implore you, noble prince! I have two little sons at
+home, and they will die of hunger if I am not there to bring them
+food.”
+
+And the young prince had pity, and unstrung his bow.
+
+“Oh, prince, I will repay your deed of mercy, said the grateful
+wood-pigeon.
+
+“Poor thing! how can you repay me?” asked the prince.
+
+“You have forgotten,” answered the wood-pigeon, “the proverb that runs,
+‘mountain and mountain can never meet, but one living creature can
+always come across another.’” The boy laughed at this speech and went
+his way.
+
+By-and-by he reached the edge of a lake, and flying towards some rushes
+which grew near the shore he beheld a wild duck. Now, in the days that
+the king, his father, was alive, and he had everything to eat he could
+possibly wish for, the prince always had wild duck for his birthday
+dinner, so he quickly fitted an arrow to his bow and took a careful
+aim.
+
+“Do not shoot, I pray you, noble prince!” cried the wild duck; “I have
+two little sons at home; they will die of hunger if I am not there to
+bring them food.”
+
+And the prince had pity, and let fall his arrow and unstrung his bow.
+
+“Oh, prince! I will repay your deed of mercy,” exclaimed the grateful
+wild duck.
+
+“You poor thing! how can you repay me?” asked the prince.
+
+“You have forgotten,” answered the wild duck, “the proverb that runs,
+‘mountain and mountain can never meet, but one living creature can
+always come across another.’” The boy laughed at this speech and went
+his way.
+
+He had not wandered far from the shores of the lake, when he noticed a
+stork standing on one leg, and again he raised his bow and prepared to
+take aim.
+
+“Do not shoot, I pray you, noble prince,” cried the stork; “I have two
+little sons at home; they will die of hunger if I am not there to bring
+them food.”
+
+Again the prince was filled with pity, and this time also he did not
+shoot.
+
+“Oh, prince, I will repay your deed of mercy,” cried the stork.
+
+“You poor stork! how can you repay me?” asked the prince.
+
+“You have forgotten,” answered the stork, “the proverb that runs,
+‘mountain and mountain can never meet, but one living creature can
+always come across another.’”
+
+The boy laughed at hearing these words again, and walked slowly on. He
+had not gone far, when he fell in with two discharged soldiers.
+
+“Where are you going, little brother?” asked one.
+
+“I am seeking work,” answered the prince.
+
+“So are we,” replied the soldier. “We can all go together.”
+
+The boy was glad of company and they went on, and on, and on, through
+seven kingdoms, without finding anything they were able to do. At
+length they reached a palace, and there was the king standing on the
+steps.
+
+“You seem to be looking for something,” said he.
+
+“It is work we want,” they all answered.
+
+So the king told the soldiers that they might become his coachmen; but
+he made the boy his companion, and gave him rooms near his own. The
+soldiers were dreadfully angry when they heard this, for of course they
+did not know that the boy was really a prince; and they soon began to
+lay their heads together to plot his ruin.
+
+Then they went to the king.
+
+“Your Majesty,” they said, “we think it our duty to tell you that your
+new companion has boasted to us that if he were only your steward he
+would not lose a single grain of corn out of the storehouses. Now, if
+your Majesty would give orders that a sack of wheat should be mixed
+with one of barley, and would send for the youth, and command him to
+separate the grains one from another, in two hours’ time, you would
+soon see what his talk was worth.”
+
+The king, who was weak, listened to what these wicked men had told him,
+and desired the prince to have the contents of the sack piled into two
+heaps by the time that he returned from his council. “If you succeed,”
+he added, “you shall be my steward, but if you fail, I will put you to
+death on the spot.”
+
+The unfortunate prince declared that he had never made any such boast
+as was reported; but it was all in vain. The king did not believe him,
+and turning him into an empty room, bade his servants carry in the huge
+sack filled with wheat and barley, and scatter them in a heap on the
+floor.
+
+The prince hardly knew where to begin, and indeed if he had had a
+thousand people to help him, and a week to do it in, he could never
+have finished his task. So he flung himself on the ground in despair,
+and covered his face with his hands.
+
+While he lay thus, a wood-pigeon flew in through the window.
+
+“Why are you weeping, noble prince?” asked the wood-pigeon.
+
+“How can I help weeping at the task set me by the king. For he says, if
+I fail to do it, I shall die a horrible death.”
+
+“Oh, there is really nothing to cry about,” answered the wood-pigeon
+soothingly. “I am the king of the wood-pigeons, whose life you spared
+when you were hungry. And now I will repay my debt, as I promised.” So
+saying he flew out of the window, leaving the prince with some hope in
+his heart.
+
+In a few minutes he returned, followed by a cloud of wood-pigeons, so
+dense that it seemed to fill the room. Their king showed them what they
+had to do, and they set to work so hard that the grain was sorted into
+two heaps long before the council was over. When the king came back he
+could not believe his eyes; but search as he might through the two
+heaps, he could not find any barley among the wheat, or any wheat
+amongst the barley. So he praised the prince for his industry and
+cleverness, and made him his steward at once.
+
+This made the two soldiers more envious still, and they began to hatch
+another plot.
+
+“Your Majesty,” they said to the king, one day, as he was standing on
+the steps of the palace, “that fellow has been boasting again, that if
+he had the care of your treasures not so much as a gold pin should ever
+be lost. Put this vain fellow to the proof, we pray you, and throw the
+ring from the princess’s finger into the brook, and bid him find it. We
+shall soon see what his talk is worth.”
+
+And the foolish king listened to them, and ordered the prince to be
+brought before him.
+
+“My son,” he said, “I have heard that you have declared that if I made
+you keeper of my treasures you would never lose so much as a gold pin.
+Now, in order to prove the truth of your words, I am going to throw the
+ring from the princess’s finger into the brook, and if you do not find
+it before I come back from council, you will have to die a horrible
+death.”
+
+It was no use denying that he had said anything of the kind. The king
+did not believe him; in fact he paid no attention at all, and hurried
+off, leaving the poor boy speechless with despair in the corner.
+However, he soon remembered that though it was very unlikely that he
+should find the ring in the brook, it was impossible that he should
+find it by staying in the palace.
+
+For some time the prince wandered up and down peering into the bottom
+of the stream, but though the water was very clear, nothing could he
+see of the ring. At length he gave it up in despair, and throwing
+himself down at the foot of the tree, he wept bitterly.
+
+“What is the matter, dear prince?” said a voice just above him, and
+raising his head, he saw the wild duck.
+
+“The king of this country declares I must die a horrible death if I
+cannot find the princess’s ring which he has thrown into the brook,”
+answered the prince.
+
+“Oh, you must not vex yourself about that, for I can help you,” replied
+the bird. “I am the king of the wild ducks, whose life you spared, and
+now it is my turn to save yours.” Then he flew away, and in a few
+minutes a great flock of wild ducks were swimming all up and down the
+stream looking with all their might, and long before the king came back
+from his council there it was, safe on the grass beside the prince.
+
+At this sight the king was yet more astonished at the cleverness of his
+steward, and at once promoted him to be the keeper of his jewels.
+
+Now you would have thought that by this time the king would have been
+satisfied with the prince, and would have left him alone; but people’s
+natures are very hard to change, and when the two envious soldiers came
+to him with a new falsehood, he was as ready to listen to them as
+before.
+
+“Gracious Majesty,” said they, “the youth whom you have made keeper of
+your jewels has declared to us that a child shall be born in the palace
+this night, which will be able to speak every language in the world and
+to play every instrument of music. Is he then become a prophet, or a
+magician, that he should know things which have not yet come to pass?”
+
+At these words the king became more angry than ever. He had tried to
+learn magic himself, but somehow or other his spells would never work,
+and he was furious to hear that the prince claimed a power that he did
+not possess. Stammering with rage, he ordered the youth to be brought
+before him, and vowed that unless this miracle was accomplished he
+would have the prince dragged at a horse’s tail until he was dead.
+
+In spite of what the soldiers had said, the boy knew no more magic than
+the king did, and his task seemed more hopeless than before. He lay
+weeping in the chamber which he was forbidden to leave, when suddenly
+he heard a sharp tapping at the window, and, looking up, he beheld a
+stork.
+
+“What makes you so sad, prince?” asked he.
+
+“Someone has told the king that I have prophesied that a child shall be
+born this night in the palace, who can speak all the languages in the
+world and play every musical instrument. I am no magician to bring
+these things to pass, but he says that if it does not happen he will
+have me dragged through the city at a horse’s tail till I die.”
+
+“Do not trouble yourself,” answered the stork. “I will manage to find
+such a child, for I am the king of the storks whose life you spared,
+and now I can repay you for it.”
+
+The stork flew away and soon returned carrying in his beak a baby
+wrapped in swaddling clothes, and laid it down near a lute. In an
+instant the baby stretched out its little hands and began to play a
+tune so beautiful that even the prince forgot his sorrows as he
+listened. Then he was given a flute and a zither, but he was just as
+well able to draw music from them; and the prince, whose courage was
+gradually rising, spoke to him in all the languages he knew. The baby
+answered him in all, and no one could have told which was his native
+tongue!
+
+The next morning the king went straight to the prince’s room, and saw
+with his own eyes the wonders that baby could do. “If your magic can
+produce such a baby,” he said, “you must be greater than any wizard
+that ever lived, and shall have my daughter in marriage.” And, being a
+king, and therefore accustomed to have everything the moment he wanted
+it, he commanded the ceremony to be performed without delay, and a
+splendid feast to be made for the bride and bridegroom. When it was
+over, he said to the prince:
+
+“Now that you are really my son, tell me by what arts you were able to
+fulfil the tasks I set you?”
+
+“My noble father-in-law,” answered the prince, “I am ignorant of all
+spells and arts. But somehow I have always managed to escape the death
+which has threatened me.” And he told the king how he had been forced
+to run away from his stepfather, and how he had spared the three birds,
+and had joined the two soldiers, who had from envy done their utmost to
+ruin him.
+
+The king was rejoiced in his heart that his daughter had married a
+prince, and not a common man, and he chased the two soldiers away with
+whips, and told them that if they ever dared to show their faces across
+the borders of his kingdom, they should die the same death he had
+prepared for the prince.
+
+[From Ungarische Mährchen]
+
+
+
+
+Tritill, Litill, And The Birds
+
+
+Once upon a time there lived a princess who was so beautiful and so
+good that everybody loved her. Her father could hardly bear her out of
+his sight, and he almost died of grief when, one day, she disappeared,
+and though the whole kingdom was searched through and through, she
+could not be found in any corner of it. In despair, the king ordered a
+proclamation to be made that whoever could bring her back to the palace
+should have her for his wife. This made the young men start afresh on
+the search, but they were no more successful than before, and returned
+sorrowfully to their homes.
+
+Now there dwelt, not far from the palace, an old man who had three
+sons. The two eldest were allowed by their parents to do just as they
+liked, but the youngest was always obliged to give way to his brothers.
+When they were all grown up, the eldest told his father that he was
+tired of leading such a quiet life, and that he meant to go away and
+see the world.
+
+The old people were very unhappy at the thought that they must part
+with him, but they said nothing, and began to collect all that he would
+want for his travels, and were careful to add a pair of new boots. When
+everything was ready, he bade them farewell, and started merrily on his
+way.
+
+For some miles his road lay through a wood, and when he left it he
+suddenly came out on a bare hillside. Here he sat down to rest, and
+pulling out his wallet prepared to eat his dinner.
+
+He had only eaten a few mouthfuls when an old man badly dressed passed
+by, and seeing the food, asked if the young man could not spare him a
+little.
+
+“Not I, indeed!” answered he; “why I have scarcely enough for myself.
+If you want food you must earn it.” And the beggar went on.
+
+After the young man had finished his dinner he rose and walked on for
+several hours, till he reached a second hill, where he threw himself
+down on the grass, and took some bread and milk from his wallet. While
+he was eating and drinking, there came by an old man, yet more wretched
+than the first, and begged for a few mouthfuls. But instead of food he
+only got hard words, and limped sadly away.
+
+Towards evening the young man reached an open space in the wood, and by
+this time he thought he would like some supper. The birds saw the food,
+and flew round his head in numbers hoping for some crumbs, but he threw
+stones at them, and frightened them off. Then he began to wonder where
+he should sleep. Not in the open space he was in, for that was bare and
+cold, and though he had walked a long way that day, and was tired, he
+dragged himself up, and went on seeking for a shelter.
+
+At length he saw a deep sort of hole or cave under a great rock, and as
+it seemed quite empty, he went in, and lay down in a corner. About
+midnight he was awakened by a noise, and peeping out he beheld a
+terrible ogress approaching. He implored her not to hurt him, but to
+let him stay there for the rest of the night, to which she consented,
+on condition that he should spend the next day in doing any task which
+she might choose to set him. To this the young man willingly agreed,
+and turned over and went to sleep again. In the morning, the ogress
+bade him sweep the dust out of the cave, and to have it clean before
+her return in the evening, otherwise it would be the worse for him.
+Then she left the cave.
+
+The young man took the spade, and began to clean the floor of the cave,
+but try as he would to move it the dirt still stuck to its place. He
+soon gave up the task, and sat sulkily in the corner, wondering what
+punishment the ogress would find for him, and why she had set him to do
+such an impossible thing.
+
+He had not long to wait, after the ogress came home, before he knew
+what his punishment was to be! She just gave one look at the floor of
+the cave, then dealt him a blow on the head which cracked his skull,
+and there was an end of him.
+
+Meanwhile his next brother grew tired of staying at home, and let his
+parents have no rest till they had consented that he also should be
+given some food and some new boots, and go out to see the world. On his
+road, he also met the two old beggars, who prayed for a little of his
+bread and milk, but this young man had never been taught to help other
+people, and had made it a rule through his life to keep all he had to
+himself. So he turned a deaf ear and finished his dinner.
+
+By-and-by he, too, came to the cave, and was bidden by the ogress to
+clean the floor, but he was no more successful than his brother, and
+his fate was the same.
+
+Anyone would have thought that when the old people had only one son
+left that at least they would have been kind to him, even if they did
+not love him. But for some reason they could hardly bear the sight of
+him, though he tried much harder to make them comfortable than his
+brothers had ever done. So when he asked their leave to go out into the
+world they gave it at once, and seemed quite glad to be rid of him.
+They felt it was quite generous of them to provide him with a pair of
+new boots and some bread and milk for his journey.
+
+Besides the pleasure of seeing the world, the youth was very anxious to
+discover what had become of his brothers, and he determined to trace,
+as far as he could, the way that they must have gone. He followed the
+road that led from his father’s cottage to the hill, where he sat down
+to rest, saying to himself: “I am sure my brothers must have stopped
+here, and I will do the same.”
+
+He was hungry as well as tired, and took out some of the food his
+parents had given him. He was just going to begin to eat when the old
+man appeared, and asked if he could not spare him a little. The young
+man at once broke off some of the bread, begging the old man to sit
+down beside him, and treating him as if he was an old friend. At last
+the stranger rose, and said to him: “If ever you are in trouble call
+me, and I will help you. My name is Tritill.” Then he vanished, and the
+young man could not tell where he had gone.
+
+However, he felt he had now rested long enough, and that he had better
+be going his way. At the next hill he met with the second old man, and
+to him also he gave food and drink. And when this old man had finished
+he said, like the first: “If you ever want help in the smallest thing
+call to me. My name is Litill.”
+
+The young man walked on till he reached the open space in the wood,
+where he stopped for dinner. In a moment all the birds in the world
+seemed flying round his head, and he crumbled some of his bread for
+them and watched them as they darted down to pick it up. When they had
+cleared off every crumb the largest bird with the gayest plumage said
+to him: “If you are in trouble and need help say, ‘My birds, come to
+me!’ and we will come.” Then they flew away.
+
+Towards evening the young man reached the cave where his brothers had
+met their deaths, and, like them, he thought it would be a good place
+to sleep in. Looking round, he saw some pieces of the dead men’s
+clothes and of their bones. The sight made him shiver, but he would not
+move away, and resolved to await the return of the ogress, for such he
+knew she must be.
+
+Very soon she came striding in, and he asked politely if she would give
+him a night’s lodging. She answered as before, that he might stay on
+condition that he should do any work that she might set him to next
+morning. So the bargain being concluded, the young man curled himself
+up in his corner and went to sleep.
+
+The dirt lay thicker than ever on the floor of the cave when the young
+man took the spade and began his work. He could not clear it any more
+than his brothers had done, and at last the spade itself stuck in the
+earth so that he could not pull it out. The youth stared at it in
+despair, then the old beggar’s words flashed into his mind, and he
+cried: “Tritill, Tritill, come and help me!”
+
+And Tritill stood beside him and asked what he wanted. The youth told
+him all his story, and when he had finished, the old man said: “Spade
+and shovel do your duty,” and they danced about the cave till, in a
+short time, there was not a speck of dust left on the floor. As soon as
+it was quite clean Tritill went his way.
+
+With a light heart the young man awaited the return of the ogress. When
+she came in she looked carefully round, and then said to him: “You did
+not do that quite alone. However, as the floor is clean I will leave
+your head on.”
+
+The following morning the ogress told the young man that he must take
+all the feathers out of her pillows and spread them to dry in the sun.
+But if one feather was missing when she came back at night his head
+should pay for it.”
+
+The young man fetched the pillows, and shook out all the feathers, and
+oh! what quantities of them there were! He was thinking to himself, as
+he spread them out carefully, how lucky it was that the sun was so
+bright and that there was no wind, when suddenly a breeze sprang up,
+and in a moment the feathers were dancing high in the air. At first the
+youth tried to collect them again, but he soon found that it was no
+use, and he cried in despair: “Tritill, Litill, and all my birds, come
+and help me!”
+
+He had hardly said the words when there they all were; and when the
+birds had brought all the feathers back again, Tritill, and Litill, and
+he, put them away in the pillows, as the ogress had bidden him. But one
+little feather they kept out, and told the young man that if the ogress
+missed it he was to thrust it up her nose. Then they all vanished,
+Tritill, Litill, and the birds.
+
+Directly the ogress returned home she flung herself with all her weight
+on the bed, and the whole cave quivered under her. The pillows were
+soft and full instead of being empty, which surprised her, but that did
+not content her. She got up, shook out the pillow-cases one by one, and
+began to count the feathers that were in each. “If one is missing I
+will have your head,” said she, and at that the young man drew the
+feather from his pocket and thrust it up her nose, crying “If you want
+your feather, here it is.”
+
+“You did not sort those feathers alone,” answered the ogress calmly;
+“however, this time I will let that pass.”
+
+That night the young man slept soundly in his corner, and in the
+morning the ogress told him that his work that day would be to slay one
+of her great oxen, to cook its heart, and to make drinking cups of its
+horns, before she returned home “There are fifty oxen,” added she, “and
+you must guess which of the herd I want killed. If you guess right,
+to-morrow you shall be free to go where you will, and you shall choose
+besides three things as a reward for your service. But if you slay the
+wrong ox your head shall pay for it.”
+
+Left alone, the young man stood thinking for a little. Then he called:
+“Tritill, Litill, come to my help!”
+
+In a moment he saw them, far away, driving the biggest ox the youth had
+ever seen. When they drew near, Tritill killed it, Litill took out its
+heart for the young man to cook, and both began quickly to turn the
+horns into drinking cups. The work went merrily on, and they talked
+gaily, and the young man told his friends of the payment promised him
+by the ogress if he had done her bidding. The old men warned him that
+he must ask her for the chest which stood at the foot of her bed, for
+whatever lay on the top of the bed, and for what lay under the side of
+the cave. The young man thanked them for their counsel, and Tritill and
+Litill then took leave of him, saying that for the present he would
+need them no more.
+
+Scarcely had they disappeared when the ogress came back, and found
+everything ready just as she had ordered. Before she sat down to eat
+the bullock’s heart she turned to the young man, and said: “You did not
+do that all alone, my friend; but, nevertheless, I will keep my word,
+and to-morrow you shall go your way.” So they went to bed and slept
+till dawn.
+
+When the sun rose the ogress awoke the young man, and called to him to
+choose any three things out of her house.
+
+“I choose,” answered he, “the chest which stands at the foot of your
+bed; whatever lies on the top of the bed, and whatever is under the
+side of the cave.”
+
+“You did not choose those things by yourself, my friend,” said the
+ogress; “but what I have promised, that will I do.”
+
+And then she gave him his reward.
+
+“The thing which lay on the top of the bed” turned out to be the lost
+princess. “The chest which stood at the foot of the bed” proved full of
+gold and precious stones; and “what was under the side of the cave” he
+found to be a great ship, with oars and sails that went of itself as
+well on land as in the water. “You are the luckiest man that ever was
+born,” said the ogress as she went out of the cave as usual.
+
+With much difficulty the youth put the heavy chest on his shoulders and
+carried it on board the ship, the princess walking by his side. Then he
+took the helm and steered the vessel back to her father’s kingdom. The
+king’s joy at receiving back his lost daughter was so great that he
+almost fainted, but when he recovered himself he made the young man
+tell him how everything had really happened. “You have found her, and
+you shall marry her,” said the king; and so it was done. And this is
+the end of the story.
+
+[From Ungarische Mährchen.]
+
+
+
+
+The Three Robes
+
+
+Long, long ago, a king and queen reigned over a large and powerful
+country. What their names were nobody knows, but their son was called
+Sigurd, and their daughter Lineik, and these young people were famed
+throughout the whole kingdom for their wisdom and beauty.
+
+There was only a year between them, and they loved each other so much
+that they could do nothing apart. When they began to grow up the king
+gave them a house of their own to live in, with servants and carriages,
+and everything they could possibly want.
+
+For many years they all lived happily together, and then the queen fell
+ill, and knew that she would never get better.
+
+“Promise me two things,” she said one day to the king; “one, that if
+you marry again, as indeed you must, you will not choose as your wife a
+woman from some small state or distant island, who knows nothing of the
+world, and will be taken up with thoughts of her grandeur. But rather
+seek out a princess of some great kingdom, who has been used to courts
+all her life, and holds them at their true worth. The other thing I
+have to ask is, that you will never cease to watch over our children,
+who will soon become your greatest joy.”
+
+These were the queen’s last words, and a few hours later she was dead.
+The king was so bowed down with sorrow that he would not attend even to
+the business of the kingdom, and at last his Prime Minister had to tell
+him that the people were complaining that they had nobody to right
+their wrongs. “You must rouse yourself, sir,” went on the minister,
+“and put aside your own sorrows for the sake of your country.”
+
+“You do not spare me,” answered the king; “but what you say is just,
+and your counsel is good. I have heard that men say, likewise, that it
+will be for the good of my kingdom for me to marry again, though my
+heart will never cease to be with my lost wife. But it was her wish
+also; therefore, to you I entrust the duty of finding a lady fitted to
+share my throne; only, see that she comes neither from a small town nor
+a remote island.”
+
+So an embassy was prepared, with the minister at its head, to visit the
+greatest courts in the world, and to choose out a suitable princess.
+But the vessel which carried them had not been gone many days when a
+thick fog came on, and the captain could see neither to the right nor
+to the left. For a whole month the ship drifted about in darkness, till
+at length the fog lifted and they beheld a cliff jutting out just in
+front. On one side of the cliff lay a sheltered bay, in which the
+vessel was soon anchored, and though they did not know where they were,
+at any rate they felt sure of fresh fruit and water.
+
+The minister left the rest of his followers on board the ship, and
+taking a small boat rowed himself to land, in order to look about him
+and to find out if the island was really as deserted as it seemed.
+
+He had not gone far, when he heard the sound of music, and, turning in
+its direction, he saw a woman of marvellous beauty sitting on a low
+stool playing on a harp, while a girl beside her sang. The minister
+stopped and greeted the lady politely, and she replied with
+friendliness, asking him why he had come to such an out-of-the way
+place. In answer he told her of the object of his journey.
+
+“I am in the same state as your master,” replied the lady; “I was
+married to a mighty king who ruled over this land, till Vikings
+[sea-robbers] came and slew him and put all the people to death. But I
+managed to escape, and hid myself here with my daughter.”
+
+And the daughter listened, and said softly to her mother: “Are you
+speaking the truth now?”
+
+“Remember your promise,” answered the mother angrily, giving her a
+pinch which was unseen by the minister.
+
+“What is your name, madam?” asked he, much touched by this sad story.
+
+“Blauvor,” she replied “and my daughter is called Laufer”; and then she
+inquired the name of the minister, and of the king his master. After
+this they talked of many things, and the lady showed herself learned in
+all that a woman should know, and even in much that men only were
+commonly taught. “What a wife she would make for the king,” thought the
+minister to himself, and before long he had begged the honour of her
+hand for his master. She declared at first that she was too unworthy to
+accept the position offered her, and that the minister would soon
+repent his choice; but this only made him the more eager, and in the
+end he gained her consent, and prevailed on her to return with him at
+once to his own country.
+
+The minister then conducted the mother and daughter back to the ship;
+the anchor was raised, the sails spread, and a fair wind was behind
+them.
+
+Now that the fog had lifted they could see as they looked back that,
+except just along the shore, the island was bare and deserted and not
+fit for men to live in; but about that nobody cared. They had a quick
+voyage, and in six days they reached the land, and at once set out for
+the capital, a messenger being sent on first by the minister to inform
+the king of what had happened.
+
+When his Majesty’s eyes fell on the two beautiful women, clad in
+dresses of gold and silver, he forgot his sorrows and ordered
+preparations for the wedding to be made without delay. In his joy he
+never remembered to inquire in what kind of country the future queen
+had been found. In fact his head was so turned by the beauty of the two
+ladies that when the invitations were sent by his orders to all the
+great people in the kingdom, he did not even recollect his two
+children, who remained shut up in their own house!
+
+After the marriage the king ceased to have any will of his own and did
+nothing without consulting his wife. She was present at all his
+councils, and her opinion was asked before making peace or war. But
+when a few months had passed the king began to have doubts as to
+whether the minister’s choice had really been a wise one, and he
+noticed that his children lived more and more in their palace and never
+came near their stepmother.
+
+It always happens that if a person’s eyes are once opened they see a
+great deal more than they ever expected; and soon it struck the king
+that the members of his court had a way of disappearing one after the
+other without any reason. At first he had not paid much attention to
+the fact, but merely appointed some fresh person to the vacant place.
+As, however, man after man vanished without leaving any trace, he began
+to grow uncomfortable and to wonder if the queen could have anything to
+do with it.
+
+Things were in this state when, one day, his wife said to him that it
+was time for him to make a progress through his kingdom and see that
+his governors were not cheating him of the money that was his due. “And
+you need not be anxious about going,” she added, “for I will rule the
+country while you are away as carefully as you could yourself.”
+
+The king had no great desire to undertake this journey, but the queen’s
+will was stronger than his, and he was too lazy to make a fight for it.
+So he said nothing and set about his preparations, ordering his finest
+ship to be ready to carry him round the coast. Still his heart was
+heavy, and he felt uneasy, though he could not have told why; and the
+night before he was to start he went to the children’s palace to take
+leave of his son and daughter.
+
+He had not seen them for some time, and they gave him a warm welcome,
+for they loved him dearly and he had always been kind to them. They had
+much to tell him, but after a while he checked their merry talk and
+said:
+
+“If I should never come back from this journey I fear that it may not
+be safe for you to stay here; so directly there are no more hopes of my
+return go instantly and take the road eastwards till you reach a high
+mountain, which you must cross. Once over the mountain keep along by
+the side of a little bay till you come to two trees, one green and the
+other red, standing in a thicket, and so far back from the road that
+without looking for them you would never see them. Hide each in the
+trunk of one of the trees and there you will be safe from all your
+enemies.”
+
+With these words the king bade them farewell and entered sadly into his
+ship. For a few days the wind was fair, and everything seemed going
+smoothly; then, suddenly, a gale sprang up, and a fearful storm of
+thunder and lightning, such as had never happened within the memory of
+man. In spite of the efforts of the frightened sailors the vessel was
+driven on the rocks, and not a man on board was saved.
+
+That very night Prince Sigurd had a dream, in which he thought his
+father appeared to him in dripping clothes, and, taking the crown from
+his head, laid it at his son’s feet, leaving the room as silently as he
+had entered it.
+
+Hastily the prince awoke his sister Lineik, and they agreed that their
+father must be dead, and that they must lose no time in obeying his
+orders and putting themselves in safety. So they collected their jewels
+and a few clothes and left the house without being observed by anyone.
+
+They hurried on till they arrived at the mountain without once looking
+back. Then Sigurd glanced round and saw that their stepmother was
+following them, with an expression on her face which made her uglier
+than the ugliest old witch. Between her and them lay a thick wood, and
+Sigurd stopped for a moment to set it on fire; then he and his sister
+hastened on more swiftly than before, till they reached the grove with
+the red and green trees, into which they jumped, and felt that at last
+they were safe.
+
+Now, at that time there reigned over Greece a king who was very rich
+and powerful, although his name has somehow been forgotten. He had two
+children, a son and a daughter, who were more beautiful and
+accomplished than any Greeks had been before, and they were the pride
+of their father’s heart.
+
+The prince had no sooner grown out of boyhood than he prevailed on his
+father to make war during the summer months on a neighbouring nation,
+so as to give him a chance of making himself famous. In winter,
+however, when it was difficult to get food and horses in that wild
+country, the army was dispersed, and the prince returned home.
+
+During one of these wars he had heard reports of the Princess Lineik’s
+beauty, and he resolved to seek her out, and to ask for her hand in
+marriage. All this Blauvor, the queen, found out by means of her black
+arts, and when the prince drew near the capital she put a splendid
+dress on her own daughter and then went to meet her guest.
+
+She bade him welcome to her palace, and when they had finished supper
+she told him of the loss of her husband, and how there was no one left
+to govern the kingdom but herself.
+
+“But where is the Princess Lineik?” asked the prince when she had ended
+her tale.
+
+“Here,” answered the queen, bringing forward the girl, whom she had
+hitherto kept in the background.
+
+The prince looked at her and was rather disappointed. The maiden was
+pretty enough, but not much out of the common.
+
+“Oh, you must not wonder at her pale face and heavy eyes,” said the
+queen hastily, for she saw what was passing in his mind. “She has never
+got over the loss of both father and mother.”
+
+“That shows a good heart,” thought the prince; “and when she is happy
+her beauty will soon come back.” And without any further delay he
+begged the queen to consent to their betrothal, for the marriage must
+take place in his own country.
+
+The queen was enchanted. She had hardly expected to succeed so soon,
+and she at once set about her preparations. Indeed she wished to travel
+with the young couple, to make sure that nothing should go wrong; but
+here the prince was firm, that he would take no one with him but
+Laufer, whom he thought was Lineik.
+
+They soon took leave of the queen, and set sail in a splendid ship; but
+in a short time a dense fog came on, and in the dark the captain
+steered out of his course, and they found themselves in a bay which was
+quite strange to all the crew. The prince ordered a boat to be lowered,
+and went on shore to look about him, and it was not long before he
+noticed the two beautiful trees, quite different from any that grew in
+Greece. Calling one of the sailors, he bade him cut them down, and
+carry them on board the ship. This was done, and as the sky was now
+clear they put out to sea, and arrived in Greece without any more
+adventures.
+
+The news that the prince had brought home a bride had gone before them,
+and they were greeted with flowery arches and crowns of coloured
+lights. The king and queen met them on the steps of the palace, and
+conducted the girl to the women’s house, where she would have to remain
+until her marriage. The prince then went to his own rooms and ordered
+that the trees should be brought in to him.
+
+The next morning the prince bade his attendants bring his future bride
+to his own apartments, and when she came he gave her silk which she was
+to weave into three robes—one red, one green, and one blue—and these
+must all be ready before the wedding. The blue one was to be done first
+and the green last, and this was to be the most splendid of all, “for I
+will wear it at our marriage,” said he.
+
+Left alone, Laufer sat and stared at the heap of shining silk before
+her. She did not know how to weave, and burst into tears as she thought
+that everything would be discovered, for Lineik’s skill in weaving was
+as famous as her beauty. As she sat with her face hidden and her body
+shaken by sobs, Sigurd in his tree heard her and was moved to pity.
+“Lineik, my sister,” he called, softly, “Laufer is weeping; help her, I
+pray you.”
+
+“Have you forgotten the wrongs her mother did to us” answered Lineik,
+“and that it is owing to her that we are banished from home?”
+
+But she was not really unforgiving, and very soon she slid quietly out
+of her hiding-place, and taking the silk from Laufer’s hands began to
+weave it. So quick and clever was she that the blue dress was not only
+woven but embroidered, and Lineik was safe back in her tree before the
+prince returned.
+
+“It is the most beautiful work I have ever seen,” said he, taking up a
+bit. “And I am sure that the red one will be still better, because the
+stuff is richer,” and with a low bow he left the room.
+
+Laufer had hoped secretly that when the prince had seen the blue dress
+finished he would have let her off the other two; but when she found
+she was expected to fulfil the whole task, her heart sank and she began
+to cry loudly. Again Sigurd heard her, and begged Lineik to come to her
+help, and Lineik, feeling sorry for her distress, wove and embroidered
+the second dress as she had done the first, mixing gold thread and
+precious stones till you could hardly see the red of the stuff. When it
+was done she glided into her tree just as the prince came in.
+
+“You are as quick as you are clever,” said he, admiringly. “This looks
+as if it had been embroidered by the fairies! But as the green robe
+must outshine the other two I will give you three days in which to
+finish it. After it is ready we will be married at once.”
+
+Now, as he spoke, there rose up in Laufer’s mind all the unkind things
+that she and her mother had done to Lineik. Could she hope that they
+would be forgotten, and that Lineik would come to her rescue for the
+third time? And perhaps Lineik, who had not forgotten the past either,
+might have left her alone, to get on as best she could, had not Sigurd,
+her brother, implored her to help just once more. So Lineik again slid
+out of her tree, and, to Laufer’s great relief, set herself to work.
+When the shining green silk was ready she caught the sun’s rays and the
+moon’s beams on the point of her needle and wove them into a pattern
+such as no man had ever seen. But it took a long time, and on the third
+morning, just as she was putting the last stitches into the last flower
+the prince came in.
+
+Lineik jumped up quickly, and tried to get past him back to her tree;
+but the folds of the silk were wrapped round her, and she would have
+fallen had not the prince caught her.
+
+“I have thought for some time that all was not quite straight here,”
+said he. “Tell me who you are, and where you come from?”
+
+Lineik then told her name and her story. When she had ended the prince
+turned angrily to Laufer, and declared that, as a punishment for her
+wicked lies, she deserved to die a shameful death.
+
+But Laufer fell at his feet and begged for mercy. It was her mother’s
+fault, she said: “It was she, and not I, who passed me off as the
+Princess Lineik. The only lie I have ever told you was about the robes,
+and I do not deserve death for that.”
+
+She was still on her knees when Prince Sigurd entered the room. He
+prayed the Prince of Greece to forgive Laufer, which he did, on
+condition that Lineik would consent to marry him. “Not till my
+stepmother is dead,” answered she, “for she has brought misery to all
+that came near her.” Then Laufer told them that Blauvor was not the
+wife of a king, but an ogress who had stolen her from a neighbouring
+palace and had brought her up as her daughter. And besides being an
+ogress she was also a witch, and by her black arts had sunk the ship in
+which the father of Sigurd and Lineik had set sail. It was she who had
+caused the disappearance of the courtiers, for which no one could
+account, by eating them during the night, and she hoped to get rid of
+all the people in the country, and then to fill the land with ogres and
+ogresses like herself.
+
+So Prince Sigurd and the Prince of Greece collected an army swiftly,
+and marched upon the town where Blauvor had her palace. They came so
+suddenly that no one knew of it, and if they had, Blauvor had eaten
+most of the strong men; and others, fearful of something they could not
+tell what, had secretly left the place. Therefore she was easily
+captured, and the next day was beheaded in the market-place. Afterwards
+the two princes marched back to Greece.
+
+Lineik had no longer any reason for putting off her wedding, and
+married the Prince of Greece at the same time that Sigurd married the
+princess. And Laufer remained with Lineik as her friend and sister,
+till they found a husband for her in a great nobleman; and all three
+couples lived happily until they died.
+
+[From Islandische Muhrchen Poestion Wien.]
+
+
+
+
+The Six Hungry Beasts
+
+
+Once upon a time there lived a man who dwelt with his wife in a little
+hut, far away from any neighbours. But they did not mind being alone,
+and would have been quite happy, if it had not been for a marten, who
+came every night to their poultry yard, and carried off one of their
+fowls. The man laid all sorts of traps to catch the thief, but instead
+of capturing the foe, it happened that one day he got caught himself,
+and falling down, struck his head against a stone, and was killed.
+
+Not long after the marten came by on the look out for his supper.
+Seeing the dead man lying there, he said to himself: “That is a prize,
+this time I have done well”; and dragging the body with great
+difficulty to the sledge which was waiting for him, drove off with his
+booty. He had not driven far when he met a squirrel, who bowed and
+said: “Good-morning, godfather! what have you got behind you?”
+
+The marten laughed and answered: “Did you ever hear anything so
+strange? The old man that you see here set traps about his hen-house,
+thinking to catch me but he fell into his own trap, and broke his own
+neck. He is very heavy; I wish you would help me to draw the sledge.”
+The squirrel did as he was asked, and the sledge moved slowly along.
+
+By-and-by a hare came running across a field, but stopped to see what
+wonderful thing was coming. “What have you got there?” she asked, and
+the marten told his story and begged the hare to help them pull.
+
+The hare pulled her hardest, and after a while they were joined by a
+fox, and then by a wolf, and at length a bear was added to the company,
+and he was of more use than all the other five beasts put together.
+Besides, when the whole six had supped off the man he was not so heavy
+to draw.
+
+The worst of it was that they soon began to get hungry again, and the
+wolf, who was the hungriest of all, said to the rest:
+
+“What shall we eat now, my friends, as there is no more man?”
+
+“I suppose we shall have to eat the smallest of us,” replied the bear,
+and the marten turned round to seize the squirrel who was much smaller
+than any of the rest. But the squirrel ran up a tree like lightning,
+and the marten remembering, just in time, that he was the next in size,
+slipped quick as thought into a hole in the rocks.
+
+“What shall we eat now?” asked the wolf again, when he had recovered
+from his surprise.
+
+“We must eat the smallest of us,” repeated the bear, stretching out a
+paw towards the hare; but the hare was not a hare for nothing, and
+before the paw had touched her, she had darted deep into the wood.
+
+Now that the squirrel, the marten, and the hare had all gone, the fox
+was the smallest of the three who were left, and the wolf and the bear
+explained that they were very sorry, but they would have to eat him.
+Michael, the fox, did not run away as the others had done, but smiled
+in a friendly manner, and remarked: “Things taste so stale in a valley;
+one’s appetite is so much better up on a mountain.” The wolf and the
+bear agreed, and they turned out of the hollow where they had been
+walking, and chose a path that led up the mountain side. The fox
+trotted cheerfully by his two big companions, but on the way he managed
+to whisper to the wolf: “Tell me, Peter, when I am eaten, what will you
+have for your next dinner?”
+
+This simple question seemed to put out the wolf very much. What would
+they have for their next dinner, and, what was more important still,
+who would there be to eat it? They had made a rule always to dine off
+the smallest of the party, and when the fox was gone, why of course, he
+was smaller than the bear.
+
+These thoughts flashed quickly through his head, and he said hastily:
+
+“Dear brothers, would it not be better for us to live together as
+comrades, and everyone to hunt for the common dinner? Is not my plan a
+good one?”
+
+“It is the best thing I have ever heard,” answered the fox; and as they
+were two to one the bear had to be content, though in his heart he
+would much have preferred a good dinner at once to any friendship.
+
+For a few days all went well; there was plenty of game in the forest,
+and even the wolf had as much to eat as he could wish. One morning the
+fox as usual was going his rounds when he noticed a tall, slender tree,
+with a magpie’s nest in one of the top branches. Now the fox was
+particularly fond of young magpies, and he set about making a plan by
+which he could have one for dinner. At last he hit upon something which
+he thought would do, and accordingly he sat down near the tree and
+began to stare hard at it.
+
+“What are you looking at, Michael?” asked the magpie, who was watching
+him from a bough.
+
+“I’m looking at this tree. It has just struck me what a good tree it
+would be to cut my new snow-shoes out of.” But at this answer the
+magpie screeched loudly, and exclaimed: “Oh, not this tree, dear
+brother, I implore you! I have built my nest on it, and my young ones
+are not yet old enough to fly.”
+
+“It will not be easy to find another tree that would make such good
+snow-shoes,” answered the fox, cocking his head on one side, and gazing
+at the tree thoughtfully; “but I do not like to be ill-natured, so if
+you will give me one of your young ones I will seek my snow-shoes
+elsewhere.”
+
+Not knowing what to do the poor magpie had to agree, and flying back,
+with a heavy heart, he threw one of his young ones out of the nest. The
+fox seized it in his mouth and ran off in triumph, while the magpie,
+though deeply grieved for the loss of his little one, found some
+comfort in the thought that only a bird of extraordinary wisdom would
+have dreamed of saving the rest by the sacrifice of the one. But what
+do you think happened? Why, a few days later, Michael the fox might
+have been seen sitting under the very same tree, and a dreadful pang
+shot through the heart of the magpie as he peeped at him from a hole in
+the nest.
+
+“What are you looking at?” he asked in a trembling voice.
+
+“At this tree. I was just thinking what good snowshoes it would make,”
+answered the fox in an absent voice, as if he was not thinking of what
+he was saying.
+
+“Oh, my brother, my dear little brother, don’t do that,” cried the
+magpie, hopping about in his anguish. “You know you promised only a few
+days ago that you would get your snow-shoes elsewhere.”
+
+“So I did; but though I have searched through the whole forest, there
+is not a single tree that is as good as this. I am very sorry to put
+you out, but really it is not my fault. The only thing I can do for you
+is to offer to give up my snow-shoes altogether if you will throw me
+down one of your young ones in exchange.”
+
+And the poor magpie, in spite of his wisdom, was obliged to throw
+another of his little ones out of the nest; and this time he was not
+able to console himself with the thought that he had been much cleverer
+than other people.
+
+He sat on the edge of his nest, his head drooping and his feathers all
+ruffled, looking the picture of misery. Indeed he was so different from
+the gay, jaunty magpie whom every creature in the forest knew, that a
+crow who was flying past, stopped to inquire what was the matter.
+“Where are the two young ones who are not in the nest?” asked he.
+
+“I had to give them to the fox,” replied the magpie in a quivering
+voice; “he has been here twice in the last week, and wanted to cut down
+my tree for the purpose of making snow-shoes out of it, and the only
+way I could buy him off was by giving him two of my young ones.”
+
+Oh, you fool,” cried the crow, “the fox was only trying to frighten
+you. He could not have cut down the tree, for he has neither axe nor
+knife. Dear me, to think that you have sacrificed your young ones for
+nothing! Dear, dear! how could you be so very foolish!” And the crow
+flew away, leaving the magpie overcome with shame and sorrow.
+
+The next morning the fox came to his usual place in front of the tree,
+for he was hungry, and a nice young magpie would have suited him very
+well for dinner. But this time there was no cowering, timid magpie to
+do his bidding, but a bird with his head erect and a determined voice.
+
+“My good fox,” said the magpie putting his head on one side and looking
+very wise—“my good fox, if you take my advice, you will go home as fast
+as you can. There is no use your talking about making snow-shoes out of
+this tree, when you have neither knife nor axe to cut it down with!”
+
+“Who has been teaching you wisdom?” asked the fox, forgetting his
+manners in his surprise at this new turn of affairs.
+
+“The crow, who paid me a visit yesterday,” answered the magpie.
+
+“The crow was it?” said the fox, “well, the crow had better not meet me
+for the future, or it may be the worse for him.”
+
+As Michael, the cunning beast, had no desire to continue the
+conversation, he left the forest; but when he came to the high road he
+laid himself at full length on the ground, stretching himself out, just
+as if he was dead. Very soon he noticed, out of the corner of his eye,
+that the crow was flying towards him, and he kept stiller and stiffer
+than ever, with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. The crow, who
+wanted her supper very badly, hopped quickly towards him, and was
+stooping forward to peck at his tongue when the fox gave a snap, and
+caught him by the wing. The crow knew that it was of no use struggling,
+so he said:
+
+“Ah, brother, if you are really going to eat me, do it, I beg of you,
+in good style. Throw me first over this precipice, so that my feathers
+may be strewn here and there, and that all who see them may know that
+your cunning is greater than mine.” This idea pleased the fox, for he
+had not yet forgiven the crow for depriving him of the young magpies,
+so he carried the crow to the edge of the precipice and threw him over,
+intending to go round by a path he knew and pick him up at the bottom.
+But no sooner had the fox let the crow go than he soared up into the
+air, and hovering just out of teach of his enemy’s jaws, he cried with
+a laugh: “Ah, fox! you know well how to catch, but you cannot keep.”
+
+With his tail between his legs, the fox slunk into the forest. He did
+not know where to look for a dinner, as he guessed that the crow would
+have flown back before him, and put every one on their guard. The
+notion of going to bed supperless was very unpleasant to him, and he
+was wondering what in the world he should do, when he chanced to meet
+with his old friend the bear.
+
+This poor animal had just lost his wife, and was going to get some one
+to mourn over her, for he felt her loss greatly. He had hardly left his
+comfortable cave when he had come across the wolf, who inquired where
+he was going. “I am going to find a mourner,” answered the bear, and
+told his story.
+
+“Oh, let me mourn for you,” cried the wolf.
+
+“Do you understand how to howl?” said the bear.
+
+“Oh, certainly, godfather, certainly,” replied the wolf; but the bear
+said he should like to have a specimen of his howling, to make sure
+that he knew his business. So the wolf broke forth in his song of
+lament: “Hu, hu, hu, hum, hoh,” he shouted, and he made such a noise
+that the bear put up his paws to his ears, and begged him to stop.
+
+“You have no idea how it is done. Be off with you,” said he angrily.
+
+A little further down the road the hare was resting in a ditch, but
+when she saw the bear, she came out and spoke to him, and inquired why
+he looked so sad. The bear told her of the loss of his wife, and of his
+search after a mourner that could lament over her in the proper style.
+The hare instantly offered her services, but the bear took care to ask
+her to give him a proof of her talents, before he accepted them. “Pu,
+pu, pu, pum, poh,” piped the hare; but this time her voice was so small
+that the bear could hardly hear her. “That is not what I want,” he
+said, “I will bid you good morning.”
+
+It was after this that the fox came up, and he also was struck with the
+bear’s altered looks, and stopped. “What is the matter with you,
+godfather?” asked he, “and where are you going?”
+
+“I am going to find a mourner for my wife,” answered the bear.
+
+“Oh, do choose me,” cried the fox, and the bear looked at him
+thoughtfully.
+
+“Can you howl well?” he said.
+
+“Yes, beautifully, just listen,” and the fox lifted up his voice and
+sang weeping: “Lou, lou, lou! the famous spinner, the baker of good
+cakes, the prudent housekeeper is torn from her husband! Lou, lou, lou!
+she is gone! she is gone!”
+
+“Now at last I have found some one who knows the art of lamentation,”
+exclaimed the bear, quite delighted; and he led the fox back to his
+cave, and bade him begin his lament over the dead wife who was lying
+stretched out on her bed of grey moss. But this did not suit the fox at
+all.
+
+“One cannot wail properly in this cave,” he said, “it is much too damp.
+You had better take the body to the storehouse. It will sound much
+finer there.” So the bear carried his wife’s body to the storehouse,
+while he himself went back to the cave to cook some pap for the
+mourner. From time to time he paused and listened for the sound of
+wailing, but he heard nothing. At last he went to the door of the
+storehouse, and called to the fox:
+
+“Why don’t you howl, godfather? What are you about?”
+
+And the fox, who, instead of weeping over the dead bear, had been
+quietly eating her, answered:
+
+“There only remain now her legs and the soles of her feet. Give me five
+minutes more and they will be gone also!”
+
+When the bear heard that he ran back for the kitchen ladle, to give the
+traitor the beating he deserved. But as he opened the door of the
+storehouse, Michael was ready for him, and slipping between his legs,
+dashed straight off into the forest. The bear, seeing that the traitor
+had escaped, flung the ladle after him, and it just caught the tip of
+his tail, and that is how there comes to be a spot of white on the
+tails of all foxes.
+
+[From Finnische Mährchen.]
+
+
+
+
+How the Beggar Boy Turned into Count Piro
+
+
+Once upon a time there lived a man who had only one son, a lazy, stupid
+boy, who would never do anything he was told. When the father was
+dying, he sent for his son and told him that he would soon be left
+alone in the world, with no possessions but the small cottage they
+lived in and a pear tree which grew behind it, and that, whether he
+liked it or not, he would have to work, or else he would starve. Then
+the old man died.
+
+But the boy did not work; instead, he idled about as before, contenting
+himself with eating the pears off his tree, which, unlike other pear
+trees before or since, bore fruit the whole year round. Indeed, the
+pears were so much finer than any you could get even in the autumn,
+that one day, in the middle of the winter, they attracted the notice of
+a fox who was creeping by.
+
+“Dear me; what lovely pears!” he said to the youth. “Do give me a
+basket of them. It will bring you luck!”
+
+“Ah, little fox, but if I give you a basketful, what am I to eat?”
+asked the boy.
+
+“Oh, trust me, and do what I tell you,” said the fox; “I know it will
+bring you luck.” So the boy got up and picked some of the ripest pears
+and put them into a rush basket. The fox thanked him, and, taking the
+basket in his mouth, trotted off to the king’s palace and made his way
+straight to the king.
+
+“Your Majesty, my master sends you a few of his best pears, and begs
+you will graciously accept them,” he said, laying the basket at the
+feet of the king.
+
+“Pears! at this season?” cried the king, peering down to look at them;
+“and, pray, who is your master?”
+
+“The Count Piro,” answered the fox.
+
+“But how does he manage to get pears in midwinter?” asked the king.
+
+“Oh, he has everything he wants,” replied the fox; “he is richer even
+than you are, your Majesty.”
+
+“Then what can I send him in return for his pears?” said the king.
+
+“Nothing, your Majesty, or you would hurt his feelings,” answered the
+fox.
+
+“Well, tell him how heartily I thank him, and how much I shall enjoy
+them.” And the fox went away.
+
+He trotted back to the cottage with his empty basket and told his tale,
+but the youth did not seem as pleased to hear as the fox was to tell.
+
+“But, my dear little fox,” said he, “you have brought me nothing in
+return, and I am so hungry!”
+
+“Let me alone,” replied the fox; “I know what I am doing. You will see,
+it will bring you luck.”
+
+A few days after this the fox came back again.
+
+“I must have another basket of pears,” said he.
+
+“Ah, little fox, what shall I eat if you take away all my pears?”
+answered the youth.
+
+“Be quiet, it will be all right,” said the fox; and taking a bigger
+basket than before, he filled it quite full of pears. Then he picked it
+up in his mouth, and trotted off to the palace.
+
+“Your Majesty, as you seemed to like the first basket of pears, I have
+brought you some more,” said he, “with my master, the Count Piro’s
+humble respects.”
+
+“Now, surely it is not possible to grow such pears with deep snow on
+the ground?” cried the king.
+
+“Oh, that never affects them,” answered the fox lightly; “he is rich
+enough to do anything. But to-day he sends me to ask if you will give
+him your daughter in marriage?”
+
+“If he is so much richer than I am,” said the king, “I shall be obliged
+to refuse. My honour would not permit me to accept his offer.”
+
+“Oh, your Majesty, you must not think that,” replied the fox; “and do
+not let the question of a dowry trouble you. The Count Piro would not
+dream of asking anything but the hand of the princess.”
+
+“Is he really so rich that he can do without a dowry?” asked the king.
+
+“Did I not tell your Majesty that he was richer than you?” answered the
+fox reproachfully.
+
+“Well, beg him to come here, that we may talk together,” said the king.
+
+So the fox went back to the young man and said: “I have told the king
+that you are Count Piro, and have asked his daughter in marriage.”
+
+“Oh, little fox, what have you done?” cried the youth in dismay; “when
+the king sees me he will order my head to be cut off.”
+
+“Oh, no, he won’t!” replied the fox; “just do as I tell you.” And he
+went off to the town, and stopped at the house of the best tailor.
+
+“My master, the Count Piro, begs that you will send him at once the
+finest coat that you have in your shop,” said the fox, putting on his
+grandest air, “and if it fits him I will call and pay for it to-morrow!
+Indeed, as he is in a great hurry, perhaps it might be as well if I
+took it round myself.” The tailor was not accustomed to serve counts,
+and he at once got out all the coats he had ready. The fox chose out a
+beautiful one of white and silver, bade the tailor tie it up in a
+parcel, and carrying the string in his teeth, he left the shop, and
+went to a horse-dealer’s, whom he persuaded to send his finest horse
+round to the cottage, saying that the king had bidden his master to the
+palace.
+
+Very unwillingly the young man put on the coat and mounted the horse,
+and rode up to meet the king, with the fox running before him.
+
+“What am I to say to his Majesty, little fox?” he asked anxiously; “you
+know that I have never spoken to a king before.”
+
+“Say nothing,” answered the fox, “but leave the talking to me. ‘Good
+morning, your Majesty,’ will be all that is necessary for you.”
+
+By this time they had reached the palace, and the king came to the door
+to receive Count Piro, and led him to the great hall, where a feast was
+spread. The princess was already seated at the table, but was as dumb
+as Count Piro himself.
+
+“The Count speaks very little,” the king said at last to the fox, and
+the fox answered: “He has so much to think about in the management of
+his property that he cannot afford to talk like ordinary people.” The
+king was quite satisfied, and they finished dinner, after which Count
+Piro and the fox took leave.
+
+The next morning the fox came round again.
+
+“Give me another basket of pears,” he said.
+
+“Very well, little fox; but remember it may cost me my life,” answered
+the youth.
+
+“Oh, leave it to me, and do as I tell you, and you will see that in the
+end it will bring you luck,” answered the fox; and plucking the pears
+he took them up to the king.
+
+“My master, Count Piro, sends you these pears,” he said, “and asks for
+an answer to his proposal.”
+
+“Tell the count that the wedding can take place whenever he pleases,”
+answered the king, and, filled with pride, the fox trotted back to
+deliver his message.
+
+“But I can’t bring the princess here, little fox?” cried the young man
+in dismay.
+
+“You leave everything to me,” answered the fox; “have I not managed
+well so far?”
+
+And up at the palace preparations were made for a grand wedding, and
+the youth was married to the princess.
+
+After a week of feasting, the fox said to the king: “My master wishes
+to take his young bride home to his own castle.”
+
+“Very well, I will accompany them,” replied the king; and he ordered
+his courtiers and attendants to get ready, and the best horses in his
+stable to be brought out for himself, Count Piro and the princess. So
+they all set out, and rode across the plain, the little fox running
+before them.
+
+He stopped at the sight of a great flock of sheep, which was feeding
+peacefully on the rich grass. “To whom do these sheep belong?” asked he
+of the shepherd. “To an ogre,” replied the shepherd.
+
+“Hush,” said the fox in a mysterious manner. “Do you see that crowd of
+armed men riding along? If you were to tell them that those sheep
+belonged to an ogre, they would kill them, and then the ogre would kill
+you! If they ask, just say the sheep belong to Count Piro; it will be
+better for everybody.” And the fox ran hastily on, as he did not wish
+to be seen talking to the shepherd.
+
+Very soon the king came up.
+
+“What beautiful sheep!” he said, drawing up his horse. “I have none so
+fine in my pastures. Whose are they?”
+
+“Count Piro’s,” answered the shepherd, who did not know the king.
+
+“Well, he must be a very rich man,” thought the king to himself, and
+rejoiced that he had such a wealthy son-in-law.
+
+Meanwhile the fox had met with a huge herd of pigs, snuffling about the
+roots of some trees.
+
+“To whom do these pigs belong?” he asked of the swineherd.
+
+“To an ogre,” replied he.
+
+“Hush!” whispered the fox, though nobody could hear him; “do you see
+that troop of armed men riding towards us? If you tell them that the
+pigs belong to the ogre they will kill them, and then the ogre will
+kill you! If they ask, just say that the pigs belong to Count Piro; it
+will be better for everybody.” And he ran hastily on.
+
+Soon after the king rode up.
+
+“What fine pigs!” he said, reining in his horse. “They are fatter than
+any I have got on my farms. Whose are they?”
+
+“Count Piro’s,” answered the swineherd, who did not know the king; and
+again the king felt he was lucky to have such a rich son-in-law.
+
+This time the fox ran faster than before, and in a flowery meadow he
+found a troop of horses feeding. “Whose horses are these?” he asked of
+the man who was watching them.
+
+“An ogre’s,” replied he.
+
+“Hush!” whispered the fox, “do you see that crowd of armed men coming
+towards us? If you tell them the horses belong to an ogre they will
+drive them off, and then the ogre will kill you! If they ask, just say
+they are Count Piro’s; it will be better for everybody.” And he ran on
+again.
+
+In a few minutes the king rode up.
+
+“Oh, what lovely creatures! how I wish they were mine!” he exclaimed.
+“Whose are they?”
+
+Count Piro’s,” answered the man, who did not know the king; and the
+king’s heart leapt as he thought that if they belonged to his rich
+son-in-law they were as good as his.
+
+At last the fox came to the castle of the ogre himself. He ran up the
+steps, with tears falling from his eyes, and crying:
+
+“Oh, you poor, poor people, what a sad fate is yours!”
+
+“What has happened?” asked the ogre, trembling with fright.
+
+“Do you see that troop of horsemen who are riding along the road? They
+are sent by the king to kill you!”
+
+“Oh, dear little fox, help us, we implore you!” cried the ogre and his
+wife.
+
+“Well, I will do what I can,” answered the fox. “The best place is for
+you both to hide in the big oven, and when the soldiers have gone by I
+will let you out.”
+
+The ogre and ogress scrambled into the oven as quick as thought, and
+the fox banged the door on them; just as he did so the king came up.
+
+“Do us the honour to dismount, your Majesty,” said the fox, bowing low.
+“This is the palace of Count Piro!”
+
+“Why it is more splendid than my own!” exclaimed the king, looking
+round on all the beautiful things that filled the hall. But why are
+there no servants?”
+
+“His Excellency the Count Piro wished the princess to choose them for
+herself,” answered the fox, and the king nodded his approval. He then
+rode on, leaving the bridal pair in the castle. But when it was dark
+and all was still, the fox crept downstairs and lit the kitchen fire,
+and the ogre and his wife were burned to death. The next morning the
+fox said to Count Piro:
+
+“Now that you are rich and happy, you have no more need of me; but,
+before I go, there is one thing I must ask of you in return: when I
+die, promise me that you will give me a magnificent coffin, and bury me
+with due honours.”
+
+“Oh, little, little fox, don’t talk of dying,” cried the princess,
+nearly weeping, for she had taken a great liking to the fox.
+
+After some time the fox thought he would see if the Count Piro was
+really grateful to him for all he had done, and went back to the
+castle, where he lay down on the door-step, and pretended to be dead.
+The princess was just going out for a walk, and directly she saw him
+lying there, she burst into tears and fell on her knees beside him.
+
+“My dear little fox, you are not dead,” she wailed; “you poor, poor
+little creature, you shall have the finest coffin in the world!”
+
+“A coffin for an animal?” said Count Piro. “What nonsense! just take
+him by the leg and throw him into the ditch.”
+
+Then the fox sprang up and cried: “You wretched, thankless beggar; have
+you forgotten that you owe all your riches to me?”
+
+Count Piro was frightened when he heard these words, as he thought that
+perhaps the fox might have power to take away the castle, and leave him
+as poor as when he had nothing to eat but the pears off his tree. So he
+tried to soften the fox’s anger, saying that he had only spoken in
+joke, as he had known quite well that he was not really dead. For the
+sake of the princess, the fox let himself be softened, and he lived in
+the castle for many years, and played with Count Piro’s children. And
+when he actually did die, his coffin was made of silver, and Count Piro
+and his wife followed him to the grave.
+
+[From Sicilianische Mährchen.]
+
+
+
+
+The Rogue And The Herdsman
+
+
+In a tiny cottage near the king’s palace there once lived an old man,
+his wife, and his son, a very lazy fellow, who would never do a stroke
+of work. He could not be got even to look after their one cow, but left
+her to look after herself, while he lay on a bank and went to sleep in
+the sun. For a long time his father bore with him, hoping that as he
+grew older he might gain more sense; but at last the old man’s patience
+was worn out, and he told his son that he should not stay at house in
+idleness, and must go out into the world to seek his fortune.
+
+The young man saw that there was no help for it, and he set out with a
+wallet full of food over his shoulder. At length he came to a large
+house, at the door of which he knocked.
+
+“What do you want?” asked the old man who opened it. And the youth told
+him how his father had turned him out of his house because he was so
+lazy and stupid, and he needed shelter for the night.
+
+“That you shall have,” replied the man; “but to-morrow I shall give you
+some work to do, for you must know that I am the chief herdsman of the
+king.”
+
+The youth made no answer to this. He felt, if he was to be made to work
+after all, that he might as well have stayed where he was. But as he
+did not see any other way of getting a bed, he went slowly in.
+
+The herdsman’s two daughters and their mother were sitting at supper,
+and invited him to join them. Nothing more was said about work, and
+when the meal was over they all went to bed.
+
+In the morning, when the young man was dressed, the herdsman called to
+him and said:
+
+“Now listen, and I will tell you what you have to do.”
+
+“What is it?” asked the youth, sulkily.
+
+“Nothing less than to look after two hundred pigs,” was the reply.
+
+“Oh, I am used to that,” answered the youth.
+
+“Yes; but this time you will have to do it properly,” said the
+herdsman; and he took the youth to the place where the pigs were
+feeding, and told him to drive them to the woods on the side of the
+mountain. This the young man did, but as soon as they reached the
+outskirts of the mountain they grew quite wild, and would have run away
+altogether, had they not luckily gone towards a narrow ravine, from
+which the youth easily drove them home to his father’s cottage.
+
+“Where do all these pigs come from, and how did you get them?” asked
+the old man in surprise, when his son knocked at the door of the hut he
+had left only the day before.
+
+“They belong to the king’s chief herdsman,” answered his son. “He gave
+them to me to look after, but I knew I could not do it, so I drove them
+straight to you. Now make the best of your good fortune, and kill them
+and hang them up at once.”
+
+“What are you talking about?” cried the father, pale with horror. “We
+should certainly both be put to death if I did any such thing.”
+
+“No, no; do as I tell you, and I will get out of it somehow,” replied
+the young man. And in the end he had his way. The pigs were killed, and
+laid side by side in a row. Then he cut off the tails and tied them
+together with a piece of cord, and swinging the bundle over his back,
+he returned to the place where they should have been feeding. Here
+there was a small swamp, which was just what he wanted, and finding a
+large stone, he fastened the rope to it, and sank it in the swamp,
+after which he arranged the tails carefully one by one, so that only
+their points were seen sticking out of the water. When everything was
+in order, he hastened home to his master with such a sorrowful face
+that the herdsman saw at once that something dreadful had happened.
+
+“Where are the pigs?” asked he.
+
+“Oh, don’t speak of them!” answered the young man; “I really can hardly
+tell you. The moment they got into the field they became quite mad, and
+each ran in a different direction. I ran too, hither and thither, but
+as fast as I caught one, another was off, till I was in despair. At
+last, however, I collected them all and was about to drive them back,
+when suddenly they rushed down the hill into the swamp, where they
+vanished completely, leaving only the points of their tails, which you
+can see for yourself.”
+
+“You have made up that story very well,” replied the herdsman.
+
+“No, it is the real truth; come with me and I’ll prove it.” And they
+went together to the spot, and there sure enough were the points of the
+tails sticking up out of the water. The herdsman laid hold of the
+nearest, and pulled at it with all his might, but it was no use, for
+the stone and the rope held them all fast. He called to the young man
+to help him, but the two did not succeed any better than the one had
+done.
+
+“Yes, your story was true after all; it is a wonderful thing,” said the
+herdsman. “But I see it is no fault of yours, and I must put up with my
+loss as well as I can. Now let us return home, for it is time for
+supper.
+
+Next morning the herdsman said to the young man: “I have got some other
+work for you to do. To-day you must take a hundred sheep to graze; but
+be careful that no harm befalls them.”
+
+“I will do my best,” replied the youth. And he opened the gate of the
+fold, where the sheep had been all night, and drove them out into the
+meadow. But in a short time they grew as wild as the pigs had done, and
+scattered in all directions. The young man could not collect them, try
+as he would, and he thought to himself that this was the punishment for
+his laziness in refusing to look after his father’s one cow.
+
+At last, however, the sheep seemed tired of running about, and then the
+youth managed to gather them together, and drove them, as before,
+straight to his father’s house.
+
+“Whose sheep are these, and what are they doing here?” asked the old
+man in wonder, and his son told him. But when the tale was ended the
+father shook his head.
+
+“Give up these bad ways and take them back to your master,” said he.
+
+“No, no,” answered the youth; “I am not so stupid as that! We will kill
+them and have them for dinner.”
+
+“You will lose your life if you do,” replied the father.
+
+“Oh, I am not sure of that!” said the son, “and, anyway, I will have my
+will for once.” And he killed all the sheep and laid them on the grass.
+But he cut off the head of the ram which always led the flock and had
+bells round its horns. This he took back to the place where they should
+have been feeding, for here he had noticed a high rock, with a patch of
+green grass in the middle and two or three thick bushes growing on the
+edge. Up this rock he climbed with great difficulty, and fastened the
+ram’s head to the bushes with a cord, leaving only the tips of the
+horns with the bells visible. As there was a soft breeze blowing, the
+bushes to which the head was tied moved gently, and the bells rang.
+When all was done to his liking he hastened quickly back to his master.
+
+“Where are the sheep?” asked the herdsman as the young man ran panting
+up the steps.
+
+“Oh! don’t speak of them,” answered he. “It is only by a miracle that I
+am here myself.”
+
+“Tell me at once what has happened,” said the herdsman sternly.
+
+The youth began to sob, and stammered out: “I—I hardly know how to tell
+you! They—they—they were so—so troublesome—that I could not manage them
+at all. They—ran about in—in all directions, and I—I—ran after them and
+nearly died of fatigue. Then I heard a—a noise, which I—I thought was
+the wind. But—but—it was the sheep, which, be—before my very eyes, were
+carried straight up—up into the air. I stood watching them as if I was
+turned to stone, but there kept ringing in my ears the sound of the
+bells on the ram which led them.”
+
+“That is nothing but a lie from beginning to end,” said the herdsman.
+
+“No, it is as true as that there is a sun in heaven,” answered the
+young man.
+
+“Then give me a proof of it,” cried his master.
+
+“Well, come with me,” said the youth. By this time it was evening and
+the dusk was falling. The young man brought the herdsman to the foot of
+the great rock, but it was so dark you could hardly see. Still the
+sound of sheep bells rang softly from above, and the herdsman knew them
+to be those he had hung on the horns of his ram.
+
+“Do you hear?” asked the youth.
+
+“Yes, I hear; you have spoken the truth, and I cannot blame you for
+what has happened. I must bear the loss as best as I can.”
+
+He turned and went home, followed by the young man, who felt highly
+pleased with his own cleverness.
+
+“I should not be surprised if the tasks I set you were too difficult,
+and that you were tired of them,” said the herdsman next morning; “but
+to-day I have something quite easy for you to do. You must look after
+forty oxen, and be sure you are very careful, for one of them has
+gold-tipped horns and hoofs, and the king reckons it among his greatest
+treasures.”
+
+The young man drove out the oxen into the meadow, and no sooner had
+they got there than, like the sheep and the pigs, they began to scamper
+in all directions, the precious bull being the wildest of all. As the
+youth stood watching them, not knowing what to do next, it came into
+his head that his father’s cow was put out to grass at no great
+distance; and he forthwith made such a noise that he quite frightened
+the oxen, who were easily persuaded to take the path he wished. When
+they heard the cow lowing they galloped all the faster, and soon they
+all arrived at his father’s house.
+
+The old man was standing before the door of his hut when the great herd
+of animals dashed round a corner of the road, with his son and his own
+cow at their head.
+
+“Whose cattle are these, and why are they here?” he asked; and his son
+told him the story.
+
+“Take them back to your master as soon as you can,” said the old man;
+but the son only laughed, and said:
+
+“No, no; they are a present to you! They will make you fat!”
+
+For a long while the old man refused to have anything to do with such a
+wicked scheme; but his son talked him over in the end, and they killed
+the oxen as they had killed the sheep and the pigs. Last of all they
+came to the king’s cherished ox.
+
+The son had a rope ready to cast round its horns, and throw it to the
+ground, but the ox was stronger than the rope, and soon tore it in
+pieces. Then it dashed away to the wood, the youth following; over
+hedges and ditches they both went, till they reached the rocky pass
+which bordered the herdsman’s land. Here the ox, thinking itself safe,
+stopped to rest, and thus gave the young man a chance to come up with
+it. Not knowing how to catch it, he collected all the wood he could
+find and made a circle of fire round the ox, who by this time had
+fallen asleep, and did not wake till the fire had caught its head, and
+it was too late for it to escape. Then the young man, who had been
+watching, ran home to his master.
+
+“You have been away a long while,” said the herdsman. “Where are the
+cattle?”
+
+The young man gasped, and seemed as if he was unable to speak. At last
+he answered:
+
+“It is always the same story! The oxen are—gone—gone!”
+
+“G-g-gone?” cried the herdsman. “Scoundrel, you lie!”
+
+“I am telling you the exact truth,” answered the young man. “Directly
+we came to the meadow they grew so wild that I could not keep them
+together. Then the big ox broke away, and the others followed till they
+all disappeared down a deep hole into the earth. It seemed to me that I
+heard sounds of bellowing, and I thought I recognised the voice of the
+golden horned ox; but when I got to the place from which the sounds had
+come, I could neither see nor hear anything in the hole itself, though
+there were traces of a fire all round it.”
+
+“Wretch!” cried the herdsman, when he had heard this story, “even if
+you did not lie before, you are lying now.”
+
+“No, master, I am speaking the truth. Come and see for yourself.”
+
+“If I find you have deceived me, you are a dead man, said the herdsman;
+and they went out together.
+
+“What do you call that?” asked the youth. And the herdsman looked and
+saw the traces of a fire, which seemed to have sprung up from under the
+earth.
+
+“Wonder upon wonder,” he exclaimed, “so you really did speak the truth
+after all! Well, I cannot reproach you, though I shall have to pay
+heavily to my royal master for the value of that ox. But come, let us
+go home! I will never set you to herd cattle again, henceforward I will
+give you something easier to do.”
+
+“I have thought of exactly the thing for you,” said the herdsman as
+they walked along, “and it is so simple that you cannot make a mistake.
+Just make me ten scythes, one for every man, for I want the grass mown
+in one of my meadows to-morrow.”
+
+At these words the youth’s heart sank, for he had never been trained
+either as a smith or a joiner. However, he dared not say no, but smiled
+and nodded.
+
+Slowly and sadly he went to bed, but he could not sleep, for wondering
+how the scythes were to be made. All the skill and cunning he had shown
+before was of no use to him now, and after thinking about the scythes
+for many hours, there seemed only one way open to him. So, listening to
+make sure that all was still, he stole away to his parents, and told
+them the whole story. When they had heard everything, they hid him
+where no one could find him.
+
+Time passed away, and the young man stayed at home doing all his
+parents bade him, and showing himself very different from what he had
+been before he went out to see the world; but one day he said to his
+father that he should like to marry, and have a house of his own.
+
+“When I served the king’s chief herdsman,” added he, “I saw his
+daughter, and I am resolved to try if I cannot win her for my wife.”
+
+“It will cost you your life, if you do,” answered the father, shaking
+his head.
+
+“Well, I will do my best,” replied his son; “but first give me the
+sword which hangs over your bed!”
+
+The old man did not understand what good the sword would do, however he
+took it down, and the young man went his way.
+
+Late in the evening he arrived at the house of the herdsman, and
+knocked at the door, which was opened by a little boy.
+
+“I want to speak to your master,” said he.
+
+“So it is you?” cried the herdsman, when he had received the message.
+“Well, you can sleep here to-night if you wish.”
+
+“I have come for something else besides a bed,” replied the young man,
+drawing his sword, “and if you do not promise to give me your youngest
+daughter as my wife I will stab you through the heart.”
+
+What could the poor man do but promise? And he fetched his youngest
+daughter, who seemed quite pleased at the proposed match, and gave the
+youth her hand.
+
+Then the young man went home to his parents, and bade them get ready to
+welcome his bride. And when the wedding was over he told his
+father-in-law, the herdsman, what he had done with the sheep, and pigs,
+and cattle. By-and-by the story came to the king’s ears, and he thought
+that a man who was so clever was just the man to govern the country; so
+he made him his minister, and after the king himself there was no one
+so great as he.
+
+[From Islandische Mährchen.]
+
+
+
+
+Eisenkopf
+
+
+Once upon a time there lived an old man who had only one son, whom he
+loved dearly; but they were very poor, and often had scarcely enough to
+eat. Then the old man fell ill, and things grew worse than ever, so he
+called his son and said to him:
+
+“My dear boy, I have no longer any food to give you, and you must go
+into the world and get it for yourself. It does not matter what work
+you do, but remember if you do it well and are faithful to your master,
+you will always have your reward.”
+
+So Peter put a piece of black bread in his knapsack, and strapping it
+on his back, took a stout stick in his hand, and set out to seek his
+fortune. For a long while he travelled on and on, and nobody seemed to
+want him; but one day he met an old man, and being a polite youth, he
+took off his hat and said: “Good morning,” in a pleasant voice. “Good
+morning,” answered the old man; “and where are you going?”
+
+“I am wandering through the country trying to get work,” replied Peter.
+
+“Then stay with me, for I can give you plenty,” said the old man, and
+Peter stayed.
+
+His work did not seem hard, for he had only two horses and a cow to see
+after, and though he had been hired for a year, the year consisted of
+but three days, so that it was not long before he received his wages.
+In payment the old man gave him a nut, and offered to keep him for
+another year; but Peter was home-sick; and, besides, he would rather
+have been paid ever so small a piece of money than a nut; for, thought
+he, nuts grow on every tree, and I can gather as many as I like.
+However, he did not say this to the old man, who had been kind to him,
+but just bade him farewell.
+
+The nearer Peter drew to his father’s house the more ashamed he felt at
+having brought back such poor wages. What could one nut do for him?
+Why, it would not buy even a slice of bacon. It was no use taking it
+home, he might as well eat it. So he sat down on a stone and cracked it
+with his teeth, and then took it out of his mouth to break off the
+shell. But who could ever guess what came out of that nut? Why, horses
+and oxen and sheep stepped out in such numbers that they seemed as if
+they would stretch to the world’s end! The sight gave Peter such a
+shock that he wrung his hands in dismay. What was he to do with all
+these creatures, where was he to put them? He stood and gazed in
+terror, and at this moment Eisenkopf came by.
+
+“What is the matter, young man?” asked he.
+
+“Oh, my friend, there is plenty the matter,” answered Peter. “I have
+gained a nut as my wages, and when I cracked it this crowd of beasts
+came out, and I don’t know what to do with them all!”
+
+“Listen to me, my son,” said Eisenkopf. “If you will promise never to
+marry I will drive them all back into the nut again.”
+
+In his trouble Peter would have promised far harder things than this,
+so he gladly gave the promise Eisenkopf asked for; and at a whistle
+from the stranger the animals all began crowding into the nut again,
+nearly tumbling over each other in their haste. When the last foot had
+got inside, the two halves of the shell shut close. Then Peter put it
+in his pocket and went on to the house.
+
+No sooner had he reached it than he cracked his nut for the second
+time, and out came the horses, sheep, and oxen again. Indeed Peter
+thought that there were even more of them than before. The old man
+could not believe his eyes when he saw the multitudes of horses, oxen
+and sheep standing before his door.
+
+“How did you come by all these?” he gasped, as soon as he could speak;
+and the son told him the whole story, and of the promise he had given
+Eisenkopf.
+
+The next day some of the cattle were driven to market and sold, and
+with the money the old man was able to buy some of the fields and
+gardens round his house, and in a few months had grown the richest and
+most prosperous man in the whole village. Everything seemed to turn to
+gold in his hands, till one day, when he and his son were sitting in
+the orchard watching their herds of cattle grazing in the meadows, he
+suddenly said: “Peter, my boy, it is time that you were thinking of
+marrying.”
+
+“But, my dear father, I told you I can never marry, because of the
+promise I gave to Eisenkopf.”
+
+“Oh, one promises here and promises there, but no one ever thinks of
+keeping such promises. If Eisenkopf does not like your marrying, he
+will have to put up with it all the same! Besides, there stands in the
+stable a grey horse which is saddled night and day; and if Eisenkopf
+should show his face, you have only got to jump on the horse’s back and
+ride away, and nobody on earth can catch you. When all is safe you will
+come back again, and we shall live as happily as two fish in the sea.”
+
+And so it all happened. The young man found a pretty, brown-skinned
+girl who was willing to have him for a husband, and the whole village
+came to the wedding feast. The music was at its gayest, and the dance
+at its merriest, when Eisenkopf looked in at the window.
+
+“Oh, ho, my brother! what is going on here? It has the air of being a
+wedding feast. Yet I fancied—was I mistaken?—that you had given me a
+promise that you never would marry.” But Peter had not waited for the
+end of this speech. Scarcely had he seen Eisenkopf than he darted like
+the wind to the stable and flung himself on the horse’s back. In
+another moment he was away over the mountain, with Eisenkopf running
+fast behind him.
+
+On they went through thick forests where the sun never shone, over
+rivers so wide that it took a whole day to sail across them, up hills
+whose sides were all of glass; on they went through seven times seven
+countries till Peter reined in his horse before the house of an old
+woman.
+
+“Good day, mother,” said he, jumping down and opening the door.
+
+“Good day, my son,” answered she, “and what are you doing here, at the
+world’s end?”
+
+“I am flying for my life, mother, flying to the world which is beyond
+all worlds; for Eisenkopf is at my heels.”
+
+“Come in and rest then, and have some food, for I have a little dog who
+will begin to howl when Eisenkopf is still seven miles off.”
+
+So Peter went in and warmed himself and ate and drank, till suddenly
+the dog began to howl.
+
+“Quick, my son, quick, you must go,” cried the old woman. And the
+lightning itself was not quicker than Peter.
+
+“Stop a moment,” cried the old woman again, just as he was mounting his
+horse, “take this napkin and this cake, and put them in your bag where
+you can get hold of them easily.” Peter took them and put them into his
+bag, and waving his thanks for her kindness, he was off like the wind.
+
+Round and round he rode, through seven times seven countries, through
+forests still thicker, and rivers still wider, and mountains still more
+slippery than the others he had passed, till at length he reached a
+house where dwelt another old woman.
+
+“Good day, mother,” said he.
+
+“Good day, my son! What are you seeking here at the world’s end?”
+
+“I am flying for my life, mother, flying to the world that is beyond
+all worlds, for Eisenkopf is at my heels.”
+
+“Come in, my son, and have some food. I have a little dog who will
+begin to howl when Eisenkopf is still seven miles off; so lie on this
+bed and rest yourself in peace.”
+
+Then she went to the kitchen and baked a number of cakes, more than
+Peter could have eaten in a whole month. He had not finished a quarter
+of them, when the dog began to howl.
+
+“Now, my son, you must go,” cried the old woman “but first put these
+cakes and this napkin in your bag, where you can easily get at them.”
+So Peter thanked her and was off like the wind.
+
+On he rode, through seven times seven countries, till he came to the
+house of a third old woman, who welcomed him as the others had done.
+But when the dog howled, and Peter sprang up to go, she said, as she
+gave him the same gifts for his journey: “You have now three cakes and
+three napkins, for I know that my sisters have each given you one.
+Listen to me, and do what I tell you. Ride seven days and nights
+straight before you, and on the eighth morning you will see a great
+fire. Strike it three times with the three napkins and it will part in
+two. Then ride into the opening, and when you are in the middle of the
+opening, throw the three cakes behind your back with your left hand.”
+
+Peter thanked her for her counsel, and was careful to do exactly all
+the old woman had told him. On the eighth morning he reached a fire so
+large that he could see nothing else on either side, but when he struck
+it with the napkins it parted, and stood on each hand like a wall. As
+he rode through the opening he threw the cakes behind him. From each
+cake there sprang a huge dog, and he gave them the names of
+World’s-weight, Ironstrong, and Quick-ear. They bayed with joy at the
+sight of him, and as Peter turned to pat them, he beheld Eisenkopf at
+the edge of the fire, but the opening had closed up behind Peter, and
+he could not get through.
+
+“Stop, you promise-breaker,” shrieked he; “you have slipped through my
+hands once, but wait till I catch you again!”
+
+Then he lay down by the fire and watched to see what would happen.
+
+When Peter knew that he had nothing more to fear from Eisenkopf, he
+rode on slowly till he came to a small white house. Here he entered and
+found himself in a room where a gray-haired woman was spinning and a
+beautiful girl was sitting in the window combing her golden hair. “What
+brings you here, my son?” asked the old woman.
+
+“I am seeking for a place, mother,” answered Peter.
+
+“Stay with me, then, for I need a servant,” said the old woman.
+
+“With pleasure, mother,” replied he.
+
+After that Peter’s life was a very happy one. He sowed and ploughed all
+day, except now and then when he took his dogs and went to hunt. And
+whatever game he brought back the maiden with the golden hair knew how
+to dress it.
+
+One day the old woman had gone to the town to buy some flour, and Peter
+and the maiden were left alone in the house. They fell into talk, and
+she asked him where his home was, and how he had managed to come
+through the fire. Peter then told her the whole story, and of his
+striking the flames with the three napkins as he had been told to do.
+The maiden listened attentively and wondered in herself whether what he
+said was true. So after Peter had gone out to the fields, she crept up
+to his room and stole the napkins and then set off as fast as she could
+to the fire by a path she knew of over the hill.
+
+At the third blow she gave the flames divided, and Eisenkopf, who had
+been watching and hoping for a chance of this kind, ran down the
+opening and stood before her. At this sight the maiden was almost
+frightened to death, but with a great effort she recovered herself and
+ran home as fast as her legs would carry her, closely pursued by
+Eisenkopf. Panting for breath she rushed into the house and fell
+fainting on the floor; but Eisenkopf entered behind her, and hid
+himself in the kitchen under the hearth.
+
+Not long after, Peter came in and picked up the three napkins which the
+maiden had dropped on the threshold. He wondered how they got there,
+for he knew he had left them in his room; but what was his horror when
+he saw the form of the fainting girl lying where she had dropped, as
+still and white as if she had been dead. He lifted her up and carried
+her to her bed, where she soon revived, but she did not tell Peter
+about Eisenkopf, who had been almost crushed to death under the
+hearth-stone by the body of World’s-weight.
+
+The next morning Peter locked up his dogs and went out into the forest
+alone. Eisenkopf, however, had seen him go, and followed so closely at
+his heels that Peter had barely time to clamber up a tall tree, where
+Eisenkopf could not reach him. “Come down at once, you gallows bird,”
+he cried. “Have you forgotten your promise that you never would marry?”
+
+“Oh, I know it is all up with me,” answered Peter, “but let me call out
+three times.”
+
+“You can call a hundred times if you like,” returned Eisenkopf, “for
+now I have got you in my power, and you shall pay for what you have
+done.”
+
+“Iron-strong, World’s-weight, Quick-ear, fly to my help!” cried Peter;
+and Quick-ear heard, and said to his brothers: “Listen, our master is
+calling us.”
+
+“You are dreaming, fool,” answered World’s-weight; “why he has not
+finished his breakfast.” And he gave Quick-ear a slap with his paw, for
+he was young and needed to be taught sense.
+
+“Iron-strong, World’s-weight, Quick-ear, fly to my help!” cried Peter
+again.
+
+This time World’s-weight heard also, and he said, “Ah, now our master
+is really calling.”
+
+“How silly you are!” answered Iron-strong; “you know that at this hour
+he is always eating.” And he gave World’s-weight a cuff, because he was
+old enough to know better.
+
+Peter sat trembling on the tree dreading lest his dogs had never heard,
+or else that, having heard, they had refused to come. It was his last
+chance, so making a mighty effort he shrieked once more:
+
+“Iron-strong, World’s-weight, Quick-ear, fly to my help, or I am a dead
+man!”
+
+And Iron-strong heard, and said: “Yes, he is certainly calling, we must
+go at once.” And in an instant he had burst open the door, and all
+three were bounding away in the direction of the voice. When they
+reached the foot of the tree Peter just said: “At him!” And in a few
+minutes there was nothing left of Eisenkopf.
+
+As soon as his enemy was dead Peter got down and returned to the house,
+where he bade farewell to the old woman and her daughter, who gave him
+a beautiful ring, all set with diamonds. It was really a magic ring,
+but neither Peter nor the maiden knew that.
+
+Peter’s heart was heavy as he set out for home. He had ceased to love
+the wife whom he had left at his wedding feast, and his heart had gone
+out to the golden-haired girl. However, it was no use thinking of that,
+so he rode forward steadily.
+
+The fire had to be passed through before he had gone very far, and when
+he came to it, Peter shook the napkins three times in the flames and a
+passage opened for trim. But then a curious thing happened; the three
+dogs, who had followed at his heels all the way, now became three cakes
+again, which Peter put into his bag with the napkins. After that he
+stopped at the houses of the three old women, and gave each one back
+her napkin and her cake.
+
+“Where is my wife?” asked Peter, when he reached home.
+
+“Oh, my dear son, why did you ever leave us? After you had vanished, no
+one knew where, your poor wife grew more and more wretched, and would
+neither eat nor drink. Little by little she faded away, and a month ago
+we laid her in her grave, to hide her sorrows under the earth.”
+
+At this news Peter began to weep, for he had loved his wife before he
+went away and had seen the golden-haired maiden.
+
+He went sorrowfully about his work for the space of half a year, when,
+one night, he dreamed that he moved the diamond ring given him by the
+maiden from his right hand and put it on the wedding finger of the
+left. The dream was so real that he awoke at once and changed the ring
+from one hand to the other. And as he did so guess what he saw? Why,
+the golden-haired girl standing before him. And he sprang up and kissed
+her, and said: “Now you are mine for ever and ever, and when we die we
+will both be buried in one grave.”
+
+And so they were.
+
+[From Ungarische Mährchen.]
+
+
+
+
+The Death Of Abu Nowas And Of His Wife
+
+
+Once upon a time there lived a man whose name was Abu Nowas, and he was
+a great favourite with the Sultan of the country, who had a palace in
+the same town where Abu Nowas dwelt.
+
+One day Abu Nowas came weeping into the hall of the palace where the
+Sultan was sitting, and said to him: “Oh, mighty Sultan, my wife is
+dead.”
+
+“That is bad news,” replied the Sultan; “I must get you another wife.”
+And he bade his Grand Vizir send for the Sultana.
+
+“This poor Abu Nowas has lost his wife,” said he, when she entered the
+hall.
+
+“Oh, then we must get him another,” answered the Sultana; “I have a
+girl that will suit him exactly,” and clapped her hands loudly. At this
+signal a maiden appeared and stood before her.
+
+“I have got a husband for you,” said the Sultana.
+
+“Who is he?” asked the girl.
+
+“Abu Nowas, the jester,” replied the Sultana.
+
+“I will take him,” answered the maiden; and as Abu Nowas made no
+objection, it was all arranged. The Sultana had the most beautiful
+clothes made for the bride, and the Sultan gave the bridegroom his
+wedding suit, and a thousand gold pieces into the bargain, and soft
+carpets for the house.
+
+So Abu Nowas took his wife home, and for some time they were very
+happy, and spent the money freely which the Sultan had given them,
+never thinking what they should do for more when that was gone. But
+come to an end it did, and they had to sell their fine things one by
+one, till at length nothing was left but a cloak apiece, and one
+blanket to cover them. “We have run through our fortune,” said Abu
+Nowas, “what are we to do now? I am afraid to go back to the Sultan,
+for he will command his servants to turn me from the door. But you
+shall return to your mistress, and throw yourself at her feet and weep,
+and perhaps she will help us.”
+
+“Oh, you had much better go,” said the wife. “I shall not know what to
+say.”
+
+“Well, then, stay at home, if you like,” answered Abu Nowas, “and I
+will ask to be admitted to the Sultan’s presence, and will tell him,
+with sobs, that my wife is dead, and that I have no money for her
+burial. When he hears that perhaps he will give us something.”
+
+“Yes, that is a good plan,” said the wife; and Abu Nowas set out.
+
+The Sultan was sitting in the hall of justice when Abu Nowas entered,
+his eyes streaming with tears, for he had rubbed some pepper into them.
+They smarted dreadfully, and he could hardly see to walk straight, and
+everyone wondered what was the matter with him.
+
+“Abu Nowas! What has happened?” cried the Sultan.
+
+“Oh, noble Sultan, my wife is dead,” wept he.
+
+“We must all die,” answered the Sultan; but this was not the reply for
+which Abu Nowas had hoped.
+
+“True, O Sultan, but I have neither shroud to wrap her in, nor money to
+bury her with,” went on Abu Nowas, in no wise abashed by the way the
+Sultan had received his news.
+
+“Well, give him a hundred pieces of gold,” said the Sultan, turning to
+the Grand Vizir. And when the money was counted out Abu Nowas bowed
+low, and left the hall, his tears still flowing, but with joy in his
+heart.
+
+“Have you got anything?” cried his wife, who was waiting for him
+anxiously.
+
+“Yes, a hundred gold pieces,” said he, throwing down the bag, “but that
+will not last us any time. Now you must go to the Sultana, clothed in
+sackcloth and robes of mourning, and tell her that your husband, Abu
+Nowas, is dead, and you have no money for his burial. When she hears
+that, she will be sure to ask you what has become of the money and the
+fine clothes she gave us on our marriage, and you will answer, ‘before
+he died he sold everything.’”
+
+The wife did as she was told, and wrapping herself in sackcloth went up
+to the Sultana’s own palace, and as she was known to have been one of
+Subida’s favourite attendants, she was taken without difficulty into
+the private apartments.
+
+“What is the matter?” inquired the Sultana, at the sight of the dismal
+figure.
+
+“My husband lies dead at home, and he has spent all our money, and sold
+everything, and I have nothing left to bury him with,” sobbed the wife.
+
+Then Subida took up a purse containing two hundred gold pieces, and
+said: “Your husband served us long and faithfully. You must see that he
+has a fine funeral.”
+
+The wife took the money, and, kissing the feet of the Sultana, she
+joyfully hastened home. They spent some happy hours planning how they
+should spend it, and thinking how clever they had been. “When the
+Sultan goes this evening to Subida’s palace,” said Abu Nowas, “she will
+be sure to tell him that Abu Nowas is dead. ‘Not Abu Nowas, it is his
+wife,’ he will reply, and they will quarrel over it, and all the time
+we shall be sitting here enjoying ourselves. Oh, if they only knew, how
+angry they would be!”
+
+As Abu Nowas had foreseen, the Sultan went, in the evening after his
+business was over, to pay his usual visit to the Sultana.
+
+“Poor Abu Nowas is dead!” said Subida when he entered the room.
+
+“It is not Abu Nowas, but his wife who is dead,” answered the Sultan.
+
+“No; really you are quite wrong. She came to tell me herself only a
+couple of hours ago,” replied Subida, “and as he had spent all their
+money, I gave her something to bury him with.”
+
+“You must be dreaming,” exclaimed the Sultan. “Soon after midday Abu
+Nowas came into the hall, his eyes streaming with tears, and when I
+asked him the reason he answered that his wife was dead, and they had
+sold everything they had, and he had nothing left, not so much as would
+buy her a shroud, far less for her burial.”
+
+For a long time they talked, and neither would listen to the other,
+till the Sultan sent for the door-keeper and bade him go instantly to
+the house of Abu Nowas and see if it was the man or his wife who was
+dead. But Abu Nowas happened to be sitting with his wife behind the
+latticed window, which looked on the street, and he saw the man coming,
+and sprang up at once. “There is the Sultan’s door-keeper! They have
+sent him here to find out the truth. Quick! throw yourself on the bed
+and pretend that you are dead.” And in a moment the wife was stretched
+out stiffly, with a linen sheet spread across her, like a corpse.
+
+She was only just in time, for the sheet was hardly drawn across her
+when the door opened and the porter came in. “Has anything happened?”
+asked he.
+
+“My poor wife is dead,” replied Abu Nowas. “Look! she is laid out
+here.” And the porter approached the bed, which was in a corner of the
+room, and saw the stiff form lying underneath.
+
+“We must all die,” said he, and went back to the Sultan.
+
+“Well, have you found out which of them is dead?” asked the Sultan.
+
+“Yes, noble Sultan; it is the wife,” replied the porter.
+
+“He only says that to please you,” cried Subida in a rage; and calling
+to her chamberlain, she ordered him to go at once to the dwelling of
+Abu Nowas and see which of the two was dead. “And be sure you tell the
+truth about it,” added she, “or it will be the worse for you.”
+
+As her chamberlain drew near the house, Abu Nowas caught sight of him.
+“There is the Sultana’s chamberlain,” he exclaimed in a fright. “Now it
+is my turn to die. Be quick and spread the sheet over me.” And he laid
+himself on the bed, and held his breath when the chamberlain came in.
+“What are you weeping for?” asked the man, finding the wife in tears.
+
+“My husband is dead,” answered she, pointing to the bed; and the
+chamberlain drew back the sheet and beheld Abu Nowas lying stiff and
+motionless. Then he gently replaced the sheet and returned to the
+palace.
+
+“Well, have you found out this time?” asked the Sultan.
+
+“My lord, it is the husband who is dead.”
+
+“But I tell you he was with me only a few hours ago,” cried the Sultan
+angrily. “I must get to the bottom of this before I sleep! Let my
+golden coach be brought round at once.”
+
+The coach was before the door in another five minutes, and the Sultan
+and Sultana both got in. Abu Nowas had ceased being a dead man, and was
+looking into the street when he saw the coach coming. “Quick! quick!”
+he called to his wife. “The Sultan will be here directly, and we must
+both be dead to receive him.” So they laid themselves down, and spread
+the sheet over them, and held their breath. At that instant the Sultan
+entered, followed by the Sultana and the chamberlain, and he went up to
+the bed and found the corpses stiff and motionless. “I would give a
+thousand gold pieces to anyone who would tell me the truth about this,”
+cried he, and at the words Abu Nowas sat up. “Give them to me, then,”
+said he, holding out his hand. “You cannot give them to anyone who
+needs them more.”
+
+“Oh, Abu Nowas, you impudent dog!” exclaimed the Sultan, bursting into
+a laugh, in which the Sultana joined. “I might have known it was one of
+your tricks!” But he sent Abu Nowas the gold he had promised, and let
+us hope that it did not fly so fast as the last had done.
+
+[From Tunische Mährchen.]
+
+
+
+
+Motiratika
+
+
+Once upon a time, in a very hot country, a man lived with his wife in a
+little hut, which was surrounded by grass and flowers. They were
+perfectly happy together till, by-and-by, the woman fell ill and
+refused to take any food. The husband tried to persuade her to eat all
+sorts of delicious fruits that he had found in the forest, but she
+would have none of them, and grew so thin he feared she would die. “Is
+there nothing you would like?” he said at last in despair.
+
+“Yes, I think I could eat some wild honey,” answered she. The husband
+was overjoyed, for he thought this sounded easy enough to get, and he
+went off at once in search of it.
+
+He came back with a wooden pan quite full, and gave it to his wife. “I
+can’t eat that,” she said, turning away in disgust. “Look! there are
+some dead bees in it! I want honey that is quite pure.” And the man
+threw the rejected honey on the grass, and started off to get some
+fresh. When he got back he offered it to his wife, who treated it as
+she had done the first bowlful. “That honey has got ants in it: throw
+it away,” she said, and when he brought her some more, she declared it
+was full of earth. In his fourth journey he managed to find some that
+she would eat, and then she begged him to get her some water. This took
+him some time, but at length he came to a lake whose waters were
+sweetened with sugar. He filled a pannikin quite full, and carried it
+home to his wife, who drank it eagerly, and said that she now felt
+quite well. When she was up and had dressed herself, her husband lay
+down in her place, saying: “You have given me a great deal of trouble,
+and now it is my turn!”
+
+“What is the matter with you?” asked the wife.
+
+“I am thirsty and want some water,” answered he; and she took a large
+pot and carried it to the nearest spring, which was a good way off.
+“Here is the water,” she said to her husband, lifting the heavy pot
+from her head; but he turned away in disgust.
+
+“You have drawn it from the pool that is full of frogs and willows; you
+must get me some more.” So the woman set out again and walked still
+further to another lake.
+
+“This water tastes of rushes,” he exclaimed, “go and get some fresh.”
+But when she brought back a third supply he declared that it seemed
+made up of water-lilies, and that he must have water that was pure, and
+not spoilt by willows, or frogs, or rushes. So for the fourth time she
+put her jug on her head, and passing all the lakes she had hitherto
+tried, she came to another, where the water was golden like honey. She
+stooped down to drink, when a horrible head bobbed up on the surface.
+
+“How dare you steal my water?” cried the head.
+
+“It is my husband who has sent me,” she replied, trembling all over.
+“But do not kill me! You shall have my baby, if you will only let me
+go.”
+
+“How am I to know which is your baby?” asked the Ogre.
+
+“Oh, that is easily managed. I will shave both sides of his head, and
+hang some white beads round his neck. And when you come to the hut you
+have only to call ‘Motikatika!’ and he will run to meet you, and you
+can eat him.”
+
+“Very well,” said the ogre, “you can go home.” And after filling the
+pot she returned, and told her husband of the dreadful danger she had
+been in.
+
+Now, though his mother did not know it, the baby was a magician and he
+had heard all that his mother had promised the ogre; and he laughed to
+himself as he planned how to outwit her.
+
+The next morning she shaved his head on both sides, and hung the white
+beads round his neck, and said to him: “I am going to the fields to
+work, but you must stay at home. Be sure you do not go outside, or some
+wild beast may eat you.”
+
+“Very well,” answered he.
+
+As soon as his mother was out of sight, the baby took out some magic
+bones, and placed them in a row before him. “You are my father,” he
+told one bone, “and you are my mother. You are the biggest,” he said to
+the third, “so you shall be the ogre who wants to eat me; and you,” to
+another, “are very little, therefore you shall be me. Now, then, tell
+me what I am to do.”
+
+“Collect all the babies in the village the same size as yourself,”
+answered the bones; “shave the sides of their heads, and hang white
+beads round their necks, and tell them that when anybody calls
+‘Motikatika,’ they are to answer to it. And be quick for you have no
+time to lose.”
+
+Motikatika went out directly, and brought back quite a crowd of babies,
+and shaved their heads and hung white beads round their little black
+necks, and just as he had finished, the ground began to shake, and the
+huge ogre came striding along, crying: “Motikatika! Motikatika!”
+
+“Here we are! here we are!” answered the babies, all running to meet
+him.
+
+“It is Motikatika I want,” said the ogre.
+
+“We are all Motikatika,” they replied. And the ogre sat down in
+bewilderment, for he dared not eat the children of people who had done
+him no wrong, or a heavy punishment would befall him. The children
+waited for a little, wondering, and then they went away.
+
+The ogre remained where he was, till the evening, when the woman
+returned from the fields.
+
+“I have not seen Motikatika,” said he.
+
+“But why did you not call him by his name, as I told you?” she asked.
+
+“I did, but all the babies in the village seemed to be named
+Motikatika,” answered the ogre; “you cannot think the number who came
+running to me.”
+
+The woman did not know what to make of it, so, to keep him in a good
+temper, she entered the hut and prepared a bowl of maize, which she
+brought him.
+
+“I do not want maize, I want the baby,” grumbled he “and I will have
+him.”
+
+“Have patience,” answered she; “I will call him, and you can eat him at
+once.” And she went into the hut and cried, “Motikatika!”
+
+“I am coming, mother,” replied he; but first he took out his bones,
+and, crouching down on the ground behind the hut, asked them how he
+should escape the ogre.
+
+“Change yourself into a mouse,” said the bones; and so he did, and the
+ogre grew tired of waiting, and told the woman she must invent some
+other plan.
+
+“To-morrow I will send him into the field to pick some beans for me,
+and you will find him there, and can eat him.”
+
+“Very well,” replied the ogre, “and this time I will take care to have
+him,” and he went back to his lake.
+
+Next morning Motikatika was sent out with a basket, and told to pick
+some beans for dinner. On the way to the field he took out his bones
+and asked them what he was to do to escape from the ogre. “Change
+yourself into a bird and snap off the beans,” said the bones. And the
+ogre chased away the bird, not knowing that it was Motikatika.
+
+The ogre went back to the hut and told the woman that she had deceived
+him again, and that he would not be put off any longer.
+
+“Return here this evening,” answered she, “and you will find him in bed
+under this white coverlet. Then you can carry him away, and eat him at
+once.”
+
+But the boy heard, and consulted his bones, which said: “Take the red
+coverlet from your father’s bed, and put yours on his,” and so he did.
+And when the ogre came, he seized Motikatika’s father and carried him
+outside the hut and ate him. When his wife found out the mistake, she
+cried bitterly; but Motikatika said: “It is only just that he should be
+eaten, and not I; for it was he, and not I, who sent you to fetch the
+water.”
+
+[Adapted from the Ba-Ronga (H. Junod).]
+
+
+
+
+Niels And The Giants
+
+
+On one of the great moors over in Jutland, where trees won’t grow
+because the soil is so sandy and the wind so strong, there once lived a
+man and his wife, who had a little house and some sheep, and two sons
+who helped them to herd them. The elder of the two was called Rasmus,
+and the younger Niels. Rasmus was quite content to look after sheep, as
+his father had done before him, but Niels had a fancy to be a hunter,
+and was not happy till he got hold of a gun and learned to shoot. It
+was only an old muzzle-loading flint-lock after all, but Niels thought
+it a great prize, and went about shooting at everything he could see.
+So much did he practice that in the long run he became a wonderful
+shot, and was heard of even where he had never been seen. Some people
+said there was very little in him beyond this, but that was an idea
+they found reason to change in the course of time.
+
+The parents of Rasmus and Niels were good Catholics, and when they were
+getting old the mother took it into her head that she would like to go
+to Rome and see the Pope. The others didn’t see much use in this, but
+she had her way in the end: they sold all the sheep, shut up the house,
+and set out for Rome on foot. Niels took his gun with him.
+
+“What do you want with that?” said Rasmus; “we have plenty to carry
+without it.” But Niels could not be happy without his gun, and took it
+all the same.
+
+It was in the hottest part of summer that they began their journey, so
+hot that they could not travel at all in the middle of the day, and
+they were afraid to do it by night lest they might lose their way or
+fall into the hands of robbers. One day, a little before sunset, they
+came to an inn which lay at the edge of a forest.
+
+“We had better stay here for the night,” said Rasmus.
+
+“What an idea!” said Niels, who was growing impatient at the slow
+progress they were making. “We can’t travel by day for the heat, and we
+remain where we are all night. It will be long enough before we get to
+Rome if we go on at this rate.”
+
+Rasmus was unwilling to go on, but the two old people sided with Niels,
+who said, “The nights aren’t dark, and the moon will soon be up. We can
+ask at the inn here, and find out which way we ought to take.”
+
+So they held on for some time, but at last they came to a small opening
+in the forest, and here they found that the road split in two. There
+was no sign-post to direct them, and the people in the inn had not told
+them which of the two roads to take.
+
+“What’s to be done now?” said Rasmus. “I think we had better have
+stayed at the inn.”
+
+“There’s no harm done,” said Niels. “The night is warm, and we can wait
+here till morning. One of us will keep watch till midnight, and then
+waken the other.”
+
+Rasmus chose to take the first watch, and the others lay down to sleep.
+It was very quiet in the forest, and Rasmus could hear the deer and
+foxes and other animals moving about among the rustling leaves. After
+the moon rose he could see them occasionally, and when a big stag came
+quite close to him he got hold of Niels’ gun and shot it.
+
+Niels was wakened by the report. “What’s that?” he said.
+
+“I’ve just shot a stag,” said Rasmus, highly pleased with himself.
+
+“That’s nothing,” said Niels. “I’ve often shot a sparrow, which is a
+much more difficult thing to do.”
+
+It was now close on midnight, so Niels began his watch, and Rasmus went
+to sleep. It began to get colder, and Niels began to walk about a
+little to keep himself warm. He soon found that they were not far from
+the edge of the forest, and when he climbed up one of the trees there
+he could see out over the open country beyond. At a little distance he
+saw a fire, and beside it there sat three giants, busy with broth and
+beef. They were so huge that the spoons they used were as large as
+spades, and their forks as big as hay-forks: with these they lifted
+whole bucketfuls of broth and great joints of meat out of an enormous
+pot which was set on the ground between them. Niels was startled and
+rather scared at first, but he comforted himself with the thought that
+the giants were a good way off, and that if they came nearer he could
+easily hide among the bushes. After watching them for a little,
+however, he began to get over his alarm, and finally slid down the tree
+again, resolved to get his gun and play some tricks with them.
+
+When he had climbed back to his former position, he took good aim, and
+waited till one of the giants was just in the act of putting a large
+piece of meat into his mouth. Bang! went Niels’ gun, and the bullet
+struck the handle of the fork so hard that the point went into the
+giant’s chin, instead of his mouth.
+
+“None of your tricks,” growled the giant to the one who sat next him.
+“What do you mean by hitting my fork like that, and making me prick
+myself?”
+
+“I never touched your fork,” said the other. “Don’t try to get up a
+quarrel with me.”
+
+“Look at it, then,” said the first. “Do you suppose I stuck it into my
+own chin for fun?”
+
+The two got so angry over the matter that each offered to fight the
+other there and then, but the third giant acted as peace-maker, and
+they again fell to their eating.
+
+While the quarrel was going on, Niels had loaded the gun again, and
+just as the second giant was about to put a nice tit-bit into his
+mouth, bang! went the gun again, and the fork flew into a dozen pieces.
+
+This giant was even more furious than the first had been, and words
+were just coming to blows, when the third giant again interposed.
+
+“Don’t be fools,” he said to them; “what’s the good of beginning to
+fight among ourselves, when it is so necessary for the three of us to
+work together and get the upper hand over the king of this country. It
+will be a hard enough task as it is, but it will be altogether hopeless
+if we don’t stick together. Sit down again, and let us finish our meal;
+I shall sit between you, and then neither of you can blame the other.”
+
+Niels was too far away to hear their talk, but from their gestures he
+could guess what was happening, and thought it good fun.
+
+“Thrice is lucky,” said he to himself; “I’ll have another shot yet.”
+
+This time it was the third giant’s fork that caught the bullet, and
+snapped in two.
+
+“Well,” said he, “if I were as foolish as you two, I would also fly
+into a rage, but I begin to see what time of day it is, and I’m going
+off this minute to see who it is that’s playing these tricks with us.”
+
+So well had the giant made his observations, that though Niels climbed
+down the tree as fast as he could, so as to hide among the bushes, he
+had just got to the ground when the enemy was upon him.
+
+“Stay where you are,” said the giant, “or I’ll put my foot on you, and
+there won’t be much of you left after that.”
+
+Niels gave in, and the giant carried him back to his comrades.
+
+“You don’t deserve any mercy at our hands,” said his captor “but as you
+are such a good shot you may be of great use to us, so we shall spare
+your life, if you will do us a service. Not far from here there stands
+a castle, in which the king’s daughter lives; we are at war with the
+king, and want to get the upper hand of him by carrying off the
+princess, but the castle is so well guarded that there is no getting
+into it. By our skill in magic we have cast sleep on every living thing
+in the castle, except a little black dog, and, as long as he is awake,
+we are no better off than before; for, as soon as we begin to climb
+over the wall, the little dog will hear us, and its barking will waken
+all the others again. Having got you, we can place you where you will
+be able to shoot the dog before it begins to bark, and then no one can
+hinder us from getting the princess into our hands. If you do that, we
+shall not only let you off, but reward you handsomely.”
+
+Niels had to consent, and the giants set out for the castle at once. It
+was surrounded by a very high rampart, so high that even the giants
+could not touch the top of it. “How am I to get over that?” said Niels.
+
+“Quite easily,” said the third giant; “I’ll throw you up on it.”
+
+“No, thanks,” said Niels. “I might fall down on the other side, or
+break my leg or neck, and then the little dog wouldn’t get shot after
+all.”
+
+“No fear of that,” said the giant; “the rampart is quite wide on the
+top, and covered with long grass, so that you will come down as softly
+as though you fell on a feather-bed.”
+
+Niels had to believe him, and allowed the giant to throw him up. He
+came down on his feet quite unhurt, but the little black dog heard the
+dump, and rushed out of its kennel at once. It was just opening its
+mouth to bark, when Niels fired, and it fell dead on the spot.
+
+“Go down on the inside now,” said the giant, “and see if you can open
+the gate to us.”
+
+Niels made his way down into the courtyard, but on his way to the outer
+gate he found himself at the entrance to the large hall of the castle.
+The door was open, and the hall was brilliantly lighted, though there
+was no one to be seen. Niels went in here and looked round him: on the
+wall there hung a huge sword without a sheath, and beneath it was a
+large drinking-horn, mounted with silver. Niels went closer to look at
+these, and saw that the horn had letters engraved on the silver rim:
+when he took it down and turned it round, he found that the inscription
+was:—
+
+Whoever drinks the wine I hold
+    Can wield the sword that hangs above;
+Then let him use it for the right,
+    And win a royal maiden’s love.
+
+
+Niels took out the silver stopper of the horn, and drank some of the
+wine, but when he tried to take down the sword he found himself unable
+to move it. So he hung up the horn again, and went further in to the
+castle. “The giants can wait a little,” he said.
+
+Before long he came to an apartment in which a beautiful princess lay
+asleep in a bed, and on a table by her side there lay a gold-hemmed
+handkerchief. Niels tore this in two, and put one half in his pocket,
+leaving the other half on the table. On the floor he saw a pair of
+gold-embroidered slippers, and one of these he also put in his pocket.
+After that he went back to the hall, and took down the horn again.
+“Perhaps I have to drink all that is in it before I can move the
+sword,” he thought; so he put it to his lips again and drank till it
+was quite empty. When he had done this, he could wield the sword with
+the greatest of ease, and felt himself strong enough to do anything,
+even to fight the giants he had left outside, who were no doubt
+wondering why he had not opened the gate to them before this time. To
+kill the giants, he thought, would be using the sword for the right;
+but as to winning the love of the princess, that was a thing which the
+son of a poor sheep-farmer need not hope for.
+
+When Niels came to the gate of the castle, he found that there was a
+large door and a small one, so he opened the latter.
+
+“Can’t you open the big door?” said the giants; “we shall hardly be
+able to get in at this one.”
+
+“The bars are too heavy for me to draw,” said Niels; “if you stoop a
+little you can quite well come in here.” The first giant accordingly
+bent down and entered in a stooping posture, but before he had time to
+straighten his back again Niels made a sweep with the sword, and oft
+went the giant’s head. To push the body aside as it fell was quite easy
+for Niels, so strong had the wine made him, and the second giant as he
+entered met the same reception. The third was slower in coming, so
+Niels called out to him: “Be quick,” he said, “you are surely the
+oldest of the three, since you are so slow in your movements, but I
+can’t wait here long; I must get back to my own people as soon as
+possible.” So the third also came in, and was served in the same way.
+It appears from the story that giants were not given fair play!
+
+By this time day was beginning to break, and Niels thought that his
+folks might already be searching for him, so, instead of waiting to see
+what took place at the castle, he ran off to the forest as fast as he
+could, taking the sword with him. He found the others still asleep, so
+he woke them up, and they again set out on their journey. Of the
+night’s adventures he said not a word, and when they asked where he got
+the sword, he only pointed in the direction of the castle, and said,
+“Over that way.” They thought he had found it, and asked no more
+questions.
+
+When Niels left the castle, he shut the door behind him, and it closed
+with such a bang that the porter woke up. He could scarcely believe his
+eyes when he saw the three headless giants lying in a heap in the
+courtyard, and could not imagine what had taken place. The whole castle
+was soon aroused, and then everybody wondered at the affair: it was
+soon seen that the bodies were those of the king’s great enemies, but
+how they came to be there and in that condition was a perfect mystery.
+Then it was noticed that the drinking-horn was empty and the sword
+gone, while the princess reported that half of her handkerchief and one
+of her slippers had been taken away. How the giants had been killed
+seemed a little clearer now, but who had done it was as great a puzzle
+as before. The old knight who had charge of the castle said that in his
+opinion it must have been some young knight, who had immediately set
+off to the king to claim the hand of the princess. This sounded likely,
+but the messenger who was sent to the Court returned with the news that
+no one there knew anything about the matter.
+
+“We must find him, however,” said the princess; “for if he is willing
+to marry me I cannot in honour refuse him, after what my father put on
+the horn.” She took council with her father’s wisest men as to what
+ought to be done, and among other things they advised her to build a
+house beside the highway, and put over the door this
+inscription:—“Whoever will tell the story of his life, may stay here
+three nights for nothing.” This was done, and many strange tales were
+told to the princess, but none of the travellers said a word about the
+three giants.
+
+In the meantime Niels and the others tramped on towards Rome. Autumn
+passed, and winter was just beginning when they came to the foot of a
+great range of mountains, towering up to the sky. “Must we go over
+these?” said they. “We shall be frozen to death or buried in the snow.”
+
+“Here comes a man,” said Niels; “let us ask him the way to Rome.” They
+did so, and were told that there was no other way.
+
+“And is it far yet?” said the old people, who were beginning to be worn
+out by the long journey. The man held up his foot so that they could
+see the sole of his shoe; it was worn as thin as paper, and there was a
+hole in the middle of it.
+
+“These shoes were quite new when I left Rome,” he said, “and look at
+them now; that will tell you whether you are far from it or not.”
+
+This discouraged the old people so much that they gave up all thought
+of finishing the journey, and only wished to get back to Denmark as
+quickly as they could. What with the winter and bad roads they took
+longer to return than they had taken to go, but in the end they found
+themselves in sight of the forest where they had slept before.
+
+“What’s this?” said Rasmus. “Here’s a big house built since we passed
+this way before.”
+
+“So it is,” said Peter; “let’s stay all night in it.”
+
+“No, we can’t afford that,” said the old people; “it will be too dear
+for the like of us.”
+
+However, when they saw what was written above the door, they were all
+well pleased to get a night’s lodging for nothing. They were well
+received, and had so much attention given to them, that the old people
+were quite put out by it. After they had got time to rest themselves,
+the princess’s steward came to hear their story.
+
+“You saw what was written above the door,” he said to the father. “Tell
+me who you are and what your history has been.”
+
+“Dear me, I have nothing of any importance to tell you,” said the old
+man, “and I am sure we should never have made so bold as to trouble you
+at all if it hadn’t been for the youngest of our two sons here.”
+
+“Never mind that,” said the steward; “you are very welcome if you will
+only tell me the story of your life.”
+
+“Well, well, I will,” said he, “but there is nothing to tell about it.
+I and my wife have lived all our days on a moor in North Jutland, until
+this last year, when she took a fancy to go to Rome. We set out with
+our two sons but turned back long before we got there, and are now on
+our way home again. That’s all my own story, and our two sons have
+lived with us all their days, so there is nothing more to be told about
+them either.”
+
+“Yes there is,” said Rasmus; “when we were on our way south, we slept
+in the wood near here one night, and I shot a stag.”
+
+The steward was so much accustomed to hearing stories of no importance
+that he thought there was no use going further with this, but reported
+to the princess that the newcomers had nothing to tell.
+
+“Did you question them all?” she said.
+
+“Well, no; not directly,” said he; “but the father said that none of
+them could tell me any more than he had done.”
+
+“You are getting careless,” said the princess; “I shall go and talk to
+them myself.”
+
+Niels knew the princess again as soon as she entered the room, and was
+greatly alarmed, for he immediately supposed that all this was a device
+to discover the person who had run away with the sword, the slipper and
+the half of the handkerchief, and that it would fare badly with him if
+he were discovered. So he told his story much the same as the others
+did (Niels was not very particular), and thought he had escaped all
+further trouble, when Rasmus put in his word. “You’ve forgotten
+something, Niels,” he said; “you remember you found a sword near here
+that night I shot the stag.”
+
+“Where is the sword?” said the princess.
+
+“I know,” said the steward, “I saw where he laid it down when they came
+in;” and off he went to fetch it, while Niels wondered whether he could
+make his escape in the meantime. Before he had made up his mind,
+however, the steward was back with the sword, which the princess
+recognised at once.
+
+“Where did you get this?” she said to Niels.
+
+Niels was silent, and wondered what the usual penalty was for a poor
+sheep-farmer’s son who was so unfortunate as to deliver a princess and
+carry off things from her bed-room.
+
+“See what else he has about him,” said the princess to the steward, and
+Niels had to submit to be searched: out of one pocket came a
+gold-embroidered slipper, and out of another the half of a gold-hemmed
+handkerchief.
+
+“That is enough,” said the princess; “now we needn’t ask any more
+questions. Send for my father the king at once.”
+
+“Please let me go,” said Niels; “I did you as much good as harm, at any
+rate.”
+
+“Why, who said anything about doing harm?” said the princess. “You must
+stay here till my father comes.”
+
+The way in which the princess smiled when she said this gave Niels some
+hope that things might not be bad for him after all, and he was yet
+more encouraged when he thought of the words engraver on the horn,
+though the last line still seemed too good to be true. However, the
+arrival of the king soon settled the matter: the princess was willing
+and so was Niels, and in a few days the wedding bells were ringing.
+Niels was made an earl by that time, and looked as handsome as any of
+them when dressed in all his robes. Before long the old king died, and
+Niels reigned after him; but whether his father and mother stayed with
+him, or went back to the moor in Jutland, or were sent to Rome in a
+carriage and four, is something that all the historians of his reign
+have forgotten to mention.
+
+
+
+
+Shepherd Paul
+
+
+Once upon a time a shepherd was taking his flock out to pasture, when
+he found a little baby lying in a meadow, left there by some wicked
+person, who thought it was too much trouble to look after it. The
+shepherd was fond of children, so he took the baby home with him and
+gave it plenty of milk, and by the time the boy was fourteen he could
+tear up oaks as if they were weeds. Then Paul, as the shepherd had
+called him, grew tired of living at home, and went out into the world
+to try his luck.
+
+He walked on for many miles, seeing nothing that surprised him, but in
+an open space of the wood he was astonished at finding a man combing
+trees as another man would comb flax.
+
+“Good morning, friend,” said Paul; “upon my word, you must be a strong
+man!”
+
+The man stopped his work and laughed. “I am Tree Comber,” he answered
+proudly; “and the greatest wish of my life is to wrestle with Shepherd
+Paul.”
+
+“May all your wishes be fulfilled as easily, for I am Shepherd Paul,
+and can wrestle with you at once,” replied the lad; and he seized Tree
+Comber and flung him with such force to the ground that he sank up to
+his knees in the earth. However, in a moment he was up again, and
+catching hold of Paul, threw him so that he sank up to his waist; but
+then it was Paul’s turn again, and this time the man was buried up to
+his neck. “That is enough,” cried he; “I see you are a smart fellow,
+let us become friends.”
+
+“Very good,” answered Paul, and they continued their journey together.
+
+By-and-by they reached a man who was grinding stones to powder in his
+hands, as if they had been nuts.
+
+“Good morning,” said Paul politely; “upon my word, you must be a strong
+fellow!”
+
+“I am Stone Crusher,” answered the man, and the greatest wish of my
+life is to wrestle with Shepherd Paul.”
+
+“May all your wishes be as easily fulfilled, for I am Shepherd Paul,
+and will wrestle with you at once,” and the sport began. After a short
+time the man declared himself beaten, and begged leave to go with them;
+so they all three travelled together.
+
+A little further on they came upon a man who was kneading iron as if it
+had been dough. “Good morning,” said Paul, “you must be a strong
+fellow.”
+
+“I am Iron Kneader, and should like to fight Shepherd Paul,” answered
+he.
+
+“Let us begin at once then,” replied Paul; and on this occasion also,
+Paul got the better of his foe, and they all four continued their
+journey.
+
+At midday they entered a forest, and Paul stopped suddenly. “We three
+will go and look for game,” he said, “and you, Tree Comber, will stay
+behind and prepare a good supper for us.” So Tree Comber set to work to
+boil and roast, and when dinner was nearly ready, a little dwarf with a
+pointed beard strolled up to the place. “What are you cooking?” asked
+he, “give me some of it.”
+
+“I’ll give you some on your back, if you like,” answered Tree Comber
+rudely. The dwarf took no notice, but waited patiently till the dinner
+was cooked, then suddenly throwing Tree Comber on the ground, he ate up
+the contents of the saucepan and vanished. Tree Comber felt rather
+ashamed of himself, and set about boiling some more vegetables, but
+they were still very hard when the hunters returned, and though they
+complained of his bad cooking, he did not tell them about the dwarf.
+
+Next day Stone Crusher was left behind, and after him Iron Kneader, and
+each time the dwarf appeared, and they fared no better than Tree Comber
+had done. The fourth day Paul said to them: “My friends, there must be
+some reason why your cooking has always been so bad, now you shall go
+and hunt and I will stay behind.” So they went off, amusing themselves
+by thinking what was in store for Paul.
+
+He set to work at once, and had just got all his vegetables simmering
+in the pot when the dwarf appeared as before, and asked to have some of
+the stew. “Be off,” cried Paul, snatching up the saucepan as he spoke.
+The dwarf tried to get hold of his collar, but Paul seized him by the
+beard, and tied him to a big tree so that he could not stir, and went
+on quietly with his cooking. The hunters came back early, longing to
+see how Paul had got on, and, to their surprise, dinner was quite ready
+for them.
+
+“You are great useless creatures,” said he, “who couldn’t even outwit
+that little dwarf. When we have finished supper I will show you what I
+have done with him!” But when they reached the place where Paul had
+left the dwarf, neither he nor the tree was to be seen, for the little
+fellow had pulled it up by the roots and run away, dragging it after
+him. The four friends followed the track of the tree and found that it
+ended in a deep hole. “He must have gone down here,” said Paul, “and I
+will go after him. See! there is a basket that will do for me to sit
+in, and a cord to lower me with. But when I pull the cord again, lose
+no time in drawing the basket up.”
+
+And he stepped into the basket, which was lowered by his friends.
+
+At last it touched the ground and he jumped out and looked about him.
+He was in a beautiful valley, full of meadows and streams, with a
+splendid castle standing by. As the door was open he walked in, but a
+lovely maiden met him and implored him to go back, for the owner of the
+castle was a dragon with six heads, who had stolen her from her home
+and brought her down to this underground spot. But Paul refused to
+listen to all her entreaties, and declared that he was not afraid of
+the dragon, and did not care how many heads he had; and he sat down
+calmly to wait for him.
+
+In a little while the dragon came in, and all the long teeth in his six
+heads chattered with anger at the sight of the stranger.
+
+“I am Shepherd Paul,” said the young man, “and I have come to fight
+you, and as I am in a hurry we had better begin at once.”
+
+“Very good,” answered the dragon. “I am sure of my supper, but let us
+have a mouthful of something first, just to give us an appetite.”
+
+Whereupon he began to eat some huge boulders as if they had been cakes,
+and when he had quite finished, he offered Paul one. Paul was not fond
+of boulders, but he took a wooden knife and cut one in two, then he
+snatched up both halves in his hands and threw them with all his
+strength at the dragon, so that two out of the six heads were smashed
+in. At this the dragon, with a mighty roar, rushed upon Paul, but he
+sprang on one side, and with a swinging blow cut off two of the other
+heads. Then, seizing the monster by the neck, he dashed the remaining
+heads against the rock.
+
+When the maiden heard that the dragon was dead, she thanked her
+deliverer with tears in her eyes, but told him that her two younger
+sisters were in the power of dragons still fiercer and more horrible
+than this one. He vowed that his sword should never rest in its sheath
+till they were set free, and bade the girl come with him, and show him
+the way.
+
+The maiden gladly consented to go with him, but first she gave him a
+golden rod, and bade him strike the castle with it. He did so, and it
+instantly changed into a golden apple, which he put in his pocket.
+After that, they started on their search.
+
+They had not gone far before they reached the castle where the second
+girl was confined by the power of the dragon with twelve heads, who had
+stolen her from her home. She was overjoyed at the sight of her sister
+and of Paul, and brought him a shirt belonging to the dragon, which
+made every one who wore it twice as strong as they were before.
+Scarcely had he put it on when the dragon came back, and the fight
+began. Long and hard was the struggle, but Paul’s sword and his shirt
+helped him, and the twelve heads lay dead upon the ground.
+
+Then Paul changed the castle into an apple, which he put into his
+pocket, and set out with the two girls in search of the third castle.
+
+It was not long before they found it, and within the walls was the
+third sister, who was younger and prettier than either of the other
+two. Her husband had eighteen heads, but when he quitted the lower
+regions for the surface of the earth, he left them all at home except
+one, which he changed for the head of a little dwarf, with a pointed
+beard.
+
+The moment that Paul knew that this terrible dragon was no other than
+the dwarf whom he had tied to the tree, he longed more than ever to fly
+at his throat. But the thought of the eighteen heads warned him to be
+careful, and the third sister brought him a silk shirt which would make
+him ten times stronger than he was before.
+
+He had scarcely put it on, when the whole castle began to shake
+violently, and the dragon flew up the steps into the hall.
+
+“Well, my friend, so we meet once more! Have you forgotten me? I am
+Shepherd Paul, and I have come to wrestle with you, and to free your
+wife from your clutches.”
+
+“Ah, I am glad to see you again,” said the dragon. “Those were my two
+brothers whom you killed, and now your blood shall pay for them.” And
+he went into his room to look for his shirt and to drink some magic
+wine, but the shirt was on Paul’s back, and as for the wine, the girl
+had given a cupful to Paul and then had allowed the rest to run out of
+the cask.
+
+At this the dragon grew rather frightened, but in a moment had
+recollected his eighteen heads, and was bold again.
+
+“Come on,” he cried, rearing himself up and preparing to dart all his
+heads at once at Paul. But Paul jumped underneath, and gave an upward
+cut so that six of the heads went rolling down. They were the best
+heads too, and very soon the other twelve lay beside them. Then Paul
+changed the castle into an apple, and put it in his pocket. Afterwards
+he and the three girls set off for the opening which led upwards to the
+earth.
+
+The basket was still there, dangling from the rope, but it was only big
+enough to hold the three girls, so Paul sent them up, and told them to
+be sure and let down the basket for him. Unluckily, at the sight of the
+maidens’ beauty, so far beyond anything they had ever seen, the friends
+forgot all about Paul, and carried the girls straight away into a far
+country, so that they were not much better off than before. Meanwhile
+Paul, mad with rage at the ingratitude of the three sisters, vowed he
+would be revenged upon them, and set about finding some way of getting
+back to earth. But it was not very easy, and for months, and months,
+and months, he wandered about underground, and, at the end, seemed no
+nearer to fulfilling his purpose than he was at the beginning.
+
+At length, one day, he happened to pass the nest of a huge griffin, who
+had left her young ones all alone. Just as Paul came along a cloud
+containing fire instead of rain burst overhead, and all the little
+griffins would certainly have been killed had not Paul spread his cloak
+over the nest and saved them. When their father returned the young ones
+told him what Paul had done, and he lost no time in flying after Paul,
+and asking how he could reward him for his goodness.
+
+“By carrying me up to the earth,” answered Paul; and the griffin
+agreed, but first went to get some food to eat on the way, as it was a
+long journey.
+
+“Now get on my back,” he said to Paul, “and when I turn my head to the
+right, cut a slice off the bullock that hangs on that side, and put it
+in my mouth, and when I turn my head to the left, draw a cupful of wine
+from the cask that hangs on that side, and pour it down my throat.”
+
+For three days and three nights Paul and the griffin flew upwards, and
+on the fourth morning it touched the ground just outside the city where
+Paul’s friends had gone to live. Then Paul thanked him and bade him
+farewell, and he returned home again.
+
+At first Paul was too tired to do anything but sleep, but as soon as he
+was rested he started off in search of the three faithless ones, who
+almost died from fright at the sight of him, for they had thought he
+would never come back to reproach them for their wickedness.
+
+“You know what to expect,” Paul said to them quietly. “You shall never
+see me again. Off with you!” He next took the three apples out of his
+pocket and placed them all in the prettiest places he could find; after
+which he tapped them with his golden rod, and they became castles
+again. He gave two of the castles to the eldest sisters, and kept the
+other for himself and the youngest, whom he married, and there they are
+living still.
+
+[From Ungarische Mährchen.]
+
+
+
+
+How The Wicked Tanuki Was Punished
+
+
+The hunters had hunted the wood for so many years that no wild animal
+was any more to be found in it. You might walk from one end to the
+other without ever seeing a hare, or a deer, or a boar, or hearing the
+cooing of the doves in their nest. If they were not dead, they had
+flown elsewhere. Only three creatures remained alive, and they had
+hidden themselves in the thickest part of the forest, high up the
+mountain. These were a grey-furred, long-tailed tanuki, his wife the
+fox, who was one of his own family, and their little son.
+
+The fox and the tanuki were very clever, prudent beasts, and they also
+were skilled in magic, and by this means had escaped the fate of their
+unfortunate friends. If they heard the twang of an arrow or saw the
+glitter of a spear, ever so far off, they lay very still, and were not
+to be tempted from their hiding-place, if their hunger was ever so
+great, or the game ever so delicious. “We are not so foolish as to risk
+our lives,” they said to each other proudly. But at length there came a
+day when, in spite of their prudence, they seemed likely to die of
+starvation, for no more food was to be had. Something had to be done,
+but they did not know what.
+
+Suddenly a bright thought struck the tanuki. “I have got a plan,” he
+cried joyfully to his wife. “I will pretend to be dead, and you must
+change yourself into a man, and take me to the village for sale. It
+will be easy to find a buyer, tanukis’ skins are always wanted; then
+buy some food with the money and come home again. I will manage to
+escape somehow, so do not worry about me.”
+
+The fox laughed with delight, and rubbed her paws together with
+satisfaction. “Well, next time I will go,” she said, “and you can sell
+me.” And then she changed herself into a man, and picking up the stiff
+body of the tanuki, set off towards the village. She found him rather
+heavy, but it would never have done to let him walk through the wood
+and risk his being seen by somebody.
+
+As the tanaki had foretold, buyers were many, and the fox handed him
+over to the person who offered the largest price, and hurried to get
+some food with the money. The buyer took the tanuki back to his house,
+and throwing him into a corner went out. Directly the tanaki found he
+was alone, he crept cautiously through a chink of the window, thinking,
+as he did so, how lucky it was that he was not a fox, and was able to
+climb. Once outside, he hid himself in a ditch till it grew dusk, and
+then galloped away into the forest.
+
+While the food lasted they were all three as happy as kings; but there
+soon arrived a day when the larder was as empty as ever. “It is my turn
+now to pretend to be dead,” cried the fox. So the tanuki changed
+himself into a peasant, and started for the village, with his wife’s
+body hanging over his shoulder. A buyer was not long in coming forward,
+and while they were making the bargain a wicked thought darted into the
+tanuki’s head, that if he got rid of the fox there would be more food
+for him and his son. So as he put the money in his pocket he whispered
+softly to the buyer that the fox was not really dead, and that if he
+did not take care she might run away from him. The man did not need
+twice telling. He gave the poor fox a blow on the head, which put an
+end to her, and the wicked tanuki went smiling to the nearest shop.
+
+In former times he had been very fond of his little son; but since he
+had betrayed his wife he seemed to have changed all in a moment, for he
+would not give him as much as a bite, and the poor little fellow would
+have starved had he not found some nuts and berries to eat, and he
+waited on, always hoping that his mother would come back.
+
+At length some notion of the truth began to dawn on him; but he was
+careful to let the old tanuki see nothing, though in his own mind he
+turned over plans from morning till night, wondering how best he might
+avenge his mother.
+
+One morning, as the little tanuki was sitting with his father, he
+remembered, with a start, that his mother had taught him all she knew
+of magic, and that he could work spells as well as his father, or
+perhaps better. “I am as good a wizard as you,” he said suddenly, and a
+cold chill ran through the tanuki as he heard him, though he laughed,
+and pretended to think it a joke. But the little tanaki stuck to his
+point, and at last the father proposed they should have a wager.
+
+“Change yourself into any shape you like,” said he, “and I will
+undertake to know you. I will go and wait on the bridge which leads
+over the river to the village, and you shall transform yourself into
+anything you please, but I will know you through any disguise.” The
+little tanuki agreed, and went down the road which his father had
+pointed out. But instead of transforming himself into a different
+shape, he just hid himself in a corner of the bridge, where he could
+see without being seen.
+
+He had not been there long when his father arrived and took up his
+place near the middle of the bridge, and soon after the king came by,
+followed by a troop of guards and all his court.
+
+“Ah! he thinks that now he has changed himself into a king I shall not
+know him,” thought the old tanuki, and as the king passed in his
+splendid carriage, borne by his servants, he jumped upon it crying: “I
+have won my wager; you cannot deceive me.” But in reality it was he who
+had deceived himself. The soldiers, conceiving that their king was
+being attacked, seized the tanuki by the legs and flung him over into
+the river, and the water closed over him.
+
+And the little tanoki saw it all, and rejoiced that his mother’s death
+had been avenged. Then he went back to the forest, and if he has not
+found it too lonely, he is probably living there still.
+
+[From Japanische Mährchen.]
+
+
+
+
+The Crab And The Monkey
+
+
+There was once a crab who lived in a hole on the shady side of a
+mountain. She was a very good housewife, and so careful and industrious
+that there was no creature in the whole country whose hole was so neat
+and clean as hers, and she took great pride in it.
+
+One day she saw lying near the mouth of her hole a handful of cooked
+rice which some pilgrim must have let fall when he was stopping to eat
+his dinner. Delighted at this discovery, she hastened to the spot, and
+was carrying the rice back to her hole when a monkey, who lived in some
+trees near by, came down to see what the crab was doing. His eyes shone
+at the sight of the rice, for it was his favourite food, and like the
+sly fellow he was, he proposed a bargain to the crab. She was to give
+him half the rice in exchange for the kernel of a sweet red kaki fruit
+which he had just eaten. He half expected that the crab would laugh in
+his face at this impudent proposal, but instead of doing so she only
+looked at him for a moment with her head on one side and then said that
+she would agree to the exchange. So the monkey went off with his rice,
+and the crab returned to her hole with the kernel.
+
+For some time the crab saw no more of the monkey, who had gone to pay a
+visit on the sunny side of the mountain; but one morning he happened to
+pass by her hole, and found her sitting under the shadow of a beautiful
+kaki tree.
+
+“Good day,” he said politely, “you have some very fine fruit there! I
+am very hungry, could you spare me one or two?”
+
+“Oh, certainly,” replied the crab, “but you must forgive me if I cannot
+get them for you myself. I am no tree-climber.”
+
+“Pray do not apologise,” answered the monkey. “Now that I have your
+permission I can get them myself quite easily.” And the crab consented
+to let him go up, merely saying that he must throw her down half the
+fruit.
+
+In another moment he was swinging himself from branch to branch, eating
+all the ripest kakis and filling his pockets with the rest, and the
+poor crab saw to her disgust that the few he threw down to her were
+either not ripe at all or else quite rotten.
+
+“You are a shocking rogue,” she called in a rage; but the monkey took
+no notice, and went on eating as fast as he could. The crab understood
+that it was no use her scolding, so she resolved to try what cunning
+would do.
+
+“Sir Monkey,” she said, “you are certainly a very good climber, but now
+that you have eaten so much, I am quite sure you would never be able to
+turn one of your somersaults.” The monkey prided himself on turning
+better somersaults than any of his family, so he instantly went head
+over heels three times on the bough on which he was sitting, and all
+the beautiful kakis that he had in his pockets rolled to the ground.
+Quick as lightning the crab picked them up and carried a quantity of
+them into her house, but when she came up for another the monkey sprang
+on her, and treated her so badly that he left her for dead. When he had
+beaten her till his arm ached he went his way.
+
+It was a lucky thing for the poor crab that she had some friends to
+come to her help or she certainly would have died then and there. The
+wasp flew to her, and took her back to bed and looked after her, and
+then he consulted with a rice-mortar and an egg which had fallen out of
+a nest near by, and they agreed that when the monkey returned, as he
+was sure to do, to steal the rest of the fruit, that they would punish
+him severely for the manner in which he had behaved to the crab. So the
+mortar climbed up to the beam over the front door, and the egg lay
+quite still on the ground, while the wasp set down the water-bucket in
+a corner. Then the crab dug itself a deep hole in the ground, so that
+not even the tip of her claws might be seen.
+
+Soon after everything was ready the monkey jumped down from his tree,
+and creeping to the door began a long hypocritical speech, asking
+pardon for all he had done. He waited for an answer of some sort, but
+none came. He listened, but all was still; then he peeped, and saw no
+one; then he went in. He peered about for the crab, but in vain;
+however, his eyes fell on the egg, which he snatched up and set on the
+fire. But in a moment the egg had burst into a thousand pieces, and its
+sharp shell struck him in the face and scratched him horribly. Smarting
+with pain he ran to the bucket and stooped down to throw some water
+over his head. As he stretched out his hand up started the wasp and
+stung him on the nose. The monkey shrieked and ran to the door, but as
+he passed through down fell the mortar and struck him dead. “After that
+the crab lived happily for many years, and at length died in peace
+under her own kaki tree.
+
+[From _Japanische Mährchen_.]
+
+
+
+
+The Horse Gullfaxi And The Sword Gunnfoder
+
+
+Many many years ago there lived a king and queen who had one only son,
+called Sigurd. When the little boy was only ten years old the queen,
+his mother, fell ill and died, and the king, who loved her dearly,
+built a splendid monument to his wife’s memory, and day after day he
+sat by it and bewailed his sad loss.
+
+One morning, as he sat by the grave, he noticed a richly dressed lady
+close to him. He asked her name and she answered that it was Ingiborg,
+and seemed surprised to see the king there all alone. Then he told her
+how he had lost his queen, and how he came daily to weep at her grave.
+In return, the lady informed him that she had lately lost her husband,
+and suggested that they might both find it a comfort if they made
+friends.
+
+This pleased the king so much that he invited her to his palace, where
+they saw each other often; and after a time he married her.
+
+After the wedding was over he soon regained his good spirits, and used
+to ride out hunting as in old days; but Sigurd, who was very fond of
+his stepmother, always stayed at home with her.
+
+One evening Ingiborg said to Sigurd: “To-morrow your father is going
+out hunting, and you must go with him.” But Sigurd said he would much
+rather stay at home, and the next day when the king rode off Sigurd
+refused to accompany him. The stepmother was very angry, but he would
+not listen, and at last she assured him that he would be sorry for his
+disobedience, and that in future he had better do as he was told.
+
+After the hunting party had started she hid Sigurd under her bed, and
+bade him be sure to lie there till she called him.
+
+Sigurd lay very still for a long while, and was just thinking it was no
+good staying there any more, when he felt the floor shake under him as
+if there were an earthquake, and peeping out he saw a great giantess
+wading along ankle deep through the ground and ploughing it up as she
+walked.
+
+“Good morning, Sister Ingiborg,” cried she as she entered the room, “is
+Prince Sigurd at home?”
+
+“No,” said Ingiborg; “he rode off to the forest with his father this
+morning.” And she laid the table for her sister and set food before
+her. After they had both done eating the giantess said: “Thank you,
+sister, for your good dinner—the best lamb, the best can of beer and
+the best drink I have ever had; but—is not Prince Sigurd at home?”
+
+Ingiborg again said “No”; and the giantess took leave of her and went
+away. When she was quite out of sight Ingiborg told Sigurd to come out
+of his hiding-place.
+
+The king returned home at night, but his wife told him nothing of what
+had happened, and the next morning she again begged the prince to go
+out hunting with his father. Sigurd, however, replied as before, that
+he would much rather stay at home.
+
+So once more the king rode off alone. This time Ingiborg hid Sigurd
+under the table, and scolded him well for not doing as she bade him.
+For some time he lay quite still, and then suddenly the floor began to
+shake, and a giantess came along wading half way to her knees through
+the ground.
+
+As she entered the house she asked, as the first one had done: “Well,
+Sister Ingiborg, is Prince Sigurd at home?”
+
+“No,” answered Ingiborg,” he rode off hunting with his father this
+morning”; and going to the cupboard she laid the table for her sister.
+When they had finished their meal the giantess rose and said: “Thank
+you for all these nice dishes, and for the best lamb, the best can of
+beer and the nicest drink I have ever had; but—is Prince Sigurd really
+not at home?”
+
+“No, certainly not!” replied Ingiborg; and with that they took leave of
+each other.
+
+When she was well out of sight Sigurd crept from under the table, and
+his stepmother declared that it was most important that he should not
+stay at home next day; but he said he did not see what harm could come
+of it, and he did not mean to go out hunting, and the next morning,
+when the king prepared to start, Ingiborg implored Sigurd to accompany
+his father. But it was all no use, he was quite obstinate and would not
+listen to a word she said. “You will have to hide me again,” said he,
+so no sooner had the king gone than Ingiborg hid Sigurd between the
+wall and the panelling, and by-and-by there was heard once more a sound
+like an earthquake, as a great giantess, wading knee deep through the
+ground, came in at the door.
+
+“Good day, Sister Ingiborg!” she cried, in a voice like thunder; “is
+Prince Sigurd at home?”
+
+“Oh, no,” answered Ingiborg, “he is enjoying himself out there in the
+forest. I expect it will be quite dark before he comes back again.”
+
+“That’s a lie!” shouted the giantess. And they squabbled about it till
+they were tired, after which Ingiborg laid the table; and when the
+giantess had done eating she said: “Well, I must thank you for all
+these good things, and for the best lamb, the best can of beer and the
+best drink I have had for a long time; but—are you quite sure Prince
+Sigurd is not at home?”
+
+“Quite,” said Ingiborg. “I’ve told you already that he rode off with
+his father this morning to hunt in the forest.”
+
+At this the giantess roared out with a terrible voice: “If he is near
+enough to hear my words, I lay this spell on him: Let him be half
+scorched and half withered; and may he have neither rest nor peace till
+he finds me.” And with these words she stalked off.
+
+For a moment Ingiborg stood as if turned to stone, then she fetched
+Sigurd from his hiding-place, and, to her horror, there he was, half
+scorched and half withered.
+
+“Now you see what has happened through your own obstinacy,” said she;
+“but we must lose no time, for your father will soon be coming home.”
+
+Going quickly into the next room she opened a chest and took out a ball
+of string and three gold rings, and gave them to Sigurd, saying: “If
+you throw this ball on the ground it will roll along till it reaches
+some high cliffs. There you will see a giantess looking out over the
+rocks. She will call down to you and say: ‘Ah, this is just what I
+wanted! Here is Prince Sigurd. He shall go into the pot to-night’; but
+don’t be frightened by her. She will draw you up with a long boat-hook,
+and you must greet her from me, and give her the smallest ring as a
+present. This will please her, and she will ask you to wrestle with
+her. When you are exhausted, she will offer you a horn to drink out of,
+and though she does not know it, the wine will make you so strong that
+you will easily be able to conquer her. After that she will let you
+stay there all night. The same thing will happen with my two other
+sisters. But, above all, remember this: should my little dog come to
+you and lay his paws on you, with tears running down his face, then
+hurry home, for my life will be in danger. Now, good-bye, and don’t
+forget your stepmother.”
+
+Then Ingiborg dropped the ball on the ground, and Sigurd bade her
+farewell.
+
+That same evening the ball stopped rolling at the foot of some high
+rocks, and on glancing up, Sigurd saw the giantess looking out at the
+top.
+
+“Ah, just what I wanted!” she cried out when she saw him; “here is
+Prince Sigurd. He shall go into the pot to-night. Come up, my friend,
+and wrestle with me.”
+
+With these words she reached out a long boat hook and hauled him up the
+cliff. At first Sigurd was rather frightened, but he remembered what
+Ingiborg had said, and gave the giantess her sister’s message and the
+ring.
+
+The giantess was delighted, and challenged him to wrestle with her.
+Sigurd was fond of all games, and began to wrestle with joy; but he was
+no match for the giantess, and as she noticed that he was getting faint
+she gave him a horn to drink out of, which was very foolish on her
+part, as it made Sigurd so strong that he soon overthrew her.
+
+“You may stay here to-night,” said she; and he was glad of the rest.
+
+Next morning Sigurd threw down the ball again and away it rolled for
+some time, till it stopped at the foot of another high rock. Then he
+looked up and saw another giantess, even bigger and uglier than the
+first one, who called out to him: “Ah, this is just what I wanted! Here
+is Prince Sigurd. He shall go into the pot to-night. Come up quickly
+and wrestle with me.” And she lost no time in hauling him up.
+
+The prince gave her his stepmother’s message and the second largest
+ring. The giantess was greatly pleased when she saw the ring, and at
+once challenged Sigurd to wrestle with her.
+
+They struggled for a long time, till at last Sigurd grew faint; so she
+handed him a horn to drink from, and when he had drunk he became so
+strong that he threw her down with one hand.
+
+On the third morning Sigurd once more laid down his ball, and it rolled
+far away, till at last it stopped under a very high rock indeed, over
+the top of which the most hideous giantess that ever was seen looked
+down.
+
+When she saw who was there she cried out: “Ah, this is just what I
+wanted! Here comes Prince Sigurd. Into the pot he goes this very night.
+Come up here, my friend, and wrestle with me.” And she hauled him up
+just as her sisters had done.
+
+Sigurd then gave her his stepmother’s message and the last and largest
+ring. The sight of the red gold delighted the giantess, and she
+challenged Sigurd to a wrestling match. This time the fight was fierce
+and long, but when at length Sigurd’s strength was failing the giantess
+gave him something to drink, and after he had drunk it he soon brought
+her to her knees. “You have beaten me,” she gasped, so now, listen to
+me. “Not far from here is a lake. Go there; you will find a little girl
+playing with a boat. Try to make friends with her, and give her this
+little gold ring. You are stronger than ever you were, and I wish you
+good luck.”
+
+With these words they took leave of each other, and Sigurd wandered on
+till he reached the lake, where he found the little girl playing with a
+boat, just as he had been told. He went up to her and asked what her
+name was.
+
+She was called Helga, she answered, and she lived near by.
+
+So Sigurd gave her the little gold ring, and proposed that they should
+have a game. The little girl was delighted, for she had no brothers or
+sisters, and they played together all the rest of the day.
+
+When evening came Sigurd asked leave to go home with her, but Helga at
+first forbade him, as no stranger had ever managed to enter their house
+without being found out by her father, who was a very fierce giant.
+
+However, Sigurd persisted, and at length she gave way; but when they
+came near the door she held her glove over him and Sigurd was at once
+transformed into a bundle of wool. Helga tucked the bundle under her
+arm and threw it on the bed in her room.
+
+Almost at the same moment her father rushed in and hunted round in
+every corner, crying out: “This place smells of men. What’s that you
+threw on the bed, Helga?”
+
+“A bundle of wool,” said she.
+
+“Oh, well, perhaps it was that I smelt,” said the old man, and troubled
+himself no more.
+
+The following day Helga went out to play and took the bundle of wool
+with her under her arm. When she reached the lake she held her glove
+over it again and Sigurd resumed his own shape.
+
+They played the whole day, and Sigurd taught Helga all sorts of games
+she had never even heard of. As they walked home in the evening she
+said: “We shall be able to play better still to-morrow, for my father
+will have to go to the town, so we can stay at home.”
+
+When they were near the house Helga again held her glove over Sigurd,
+and once more he was turned into a bundle of wool, and she carried him
+in without his being seen.
+
+Very early next morning Helga’s father went to the town, and as soon as
+he was well out of the way the girl held up her glove and Sigurd was
+himself again. Then she took him all over the house to amuse him, and
+opened every room, for her father had given her the keys before he
+left; but when they came to the last room Sigurd noticed one key on the
+bunch which had not been used and asked which room it belonged to.”
+
+Helga grew red and did not answer.
+
+“I suppose you don’t mind my seeing the room which it opens?” asked
+Sigurd, and as he spoke he saw a heavy iron door and begged Helga to
+unlock it for him. But she told him she dared not do so, at least if
+she did open the door it must only be a very tiny chink; and Sigurd
+declared that would do quite well.
+
+The door was so heavy, that it took Helga some time to open it, and
+Sigurd grew so impatient that he pushed it wide open and walked in.
+There he saw a splendid horse, all ready saddled, and just above it
+hung a richly ornamented sword on the handle of which was engraved
+these words: “He who rides this horse and wears this sword will find
+happiness.”
+
+At the sight of the horse Sigurd was so filled with wonder that he was
+not able to speak, but at last he gasped out: “Oh, do let me mount him
+and ride him round the house! Just once; I promise not to ask any
+more.”
+
+“Ride him round the house!” cried Helga, growing pale at the mere idea.
+“Ride Gullfaxi! Why father would never, never forgive me, if I let you
+do that.”
+
+“But it can’t do him any harm,” argued Sigurd; “you don’t know how
+careful I will be. I have ridden all sorts of horses at home, and have
+never fallen off not once. Oh, Helga, do!”
+
+“Well, perhaps, if you come back directly,” replied Helga, doubtfully;
+“but you must be very quick, or father will find out!”
+
+But, instead of mounting Gullfaxi, as she expected, Sigurd stood still.
+
+“And the sword,” he said, looking fondly up to the place where it hung.
+“My father is a king, but he has not got any sword so beautiful as
+that. Why, the jewels in the scabbard are more splendid than the big
+ruby in his crown! Has it got a name? Some swords have, you know.”
+
+“It is called ‘Gunnfjoder,’ the ‘Battle Plume,’” answered Helga, “and
+‘Gullfaxi’ means ‘Golden Mane.’ I don’t suppose, if you are to get on
+the horse at all, it would matter your taking the sword too. And if you
+take the sword you will have to carry the stick and the stone and the
+twig as well.”
+
+“They are easily carried,” said Sigurd, gazing at them with scorn;
+“what wretched dried-up things! Why in the world do you keep them?”
+
+“Bather says that he would rather lose Gullfaxi than lose them,”
+replied Helga, “for if the man who rides the horse is pursued he has
+only to throw the twig behind him and it will turn into a forest, so
+thick that even a bird could hardly fly through. But if his enemy
+happens to know magic, and can throw down the forest, the man has only
+to strike the stone with the stick, and hailstones as large as pigeons’
+eggs will rain down from the sky and will kill every one for twenty
+miles round.”
+
+Having said all this she allowed Sigurd to ride “just once” round the
+house, taking the sword and other things with him. But when he had
+ridden round, instead of dismounting, he suddenly turned the horse’s
+head and galloped away.
+
+Soon after this Helga’s father came home and found his daughter in
+tears. He asked what was the matter, and when he heard all that had
+happened, he rushed off as fast as he could to pursue Sigurd.
+
+Now, as Sigurd happened to look behind him he saw the giant coming
+after him with great strides, and in all haste he threw the twig behind
+him. Immediately such a thick wood sprang up at once between him and
+his enemy that the giant was obliged to run home for an axe with which
+to cut his way through.
+
+The next time Sigurd glanced round, the giant was so near that he
+almost touched Gullfaxi’s tail. In an agony of fear Sigurd turned
+quickly in his saddle and hit the stone with the stick. No sooner had
+he done this than a terrible hailstorm burst behind, and the giant was
+killed on the spot.
+
+But had Sigurd struck the stone without turning round, the hail would
+have driven right into his face and killed him instead.
+
+After the giant was dead Sigurd rode on towards his own home, and on
+the way he suddenly met his stepmother’s little dog, running to meet
+him, with tears pouring down its face. He galloped on as hard as he
+could, and on arriving found nine men-servants in the act of tying
+Queen Ingiborg to a post in the courtyard of the palace, where they
+intended to burn her.
+
+Wild with anger Prince Sigurd sprang from his horse and, sword in hand,
+fell on the men and killed them all. Then he released his stepmother,
+and went in with her to see his father.
+
+The king lay in bed sick with sorrow, and neither eating nor drinking,
+for he thought that his son had been killed by the queen. He could
+hardly believe his own eyes for joy when he saw the prince, and Sigurd
+told him all his adventures.
+
+After that Prince Sigurd rode back to fetch Helga, and a great feast
+was made which lasted three days; and every one said no bride was ever
+seen so beautiful as Helga, and they lived happily for many, many
+years, and everybody loved them.
+
+[From Islandische Mährchen.]
+
+
+
+
+The Story Of The Sham Prince, Or The Ambitious Tailor
+
+
+Once upon a time there lived a respectable young tailor called Labakan,
+who worked for a clever master in Alexandria. No one could call Labakan
+either stupid or lazy, for he could work extremely well and
+quickly—when he chose; but there was something not altogether right
+about him. Sometimes he would stitch away as fast as if he had a
+red-hot needle and a burning thread, and at other times he would sit
+lost in thought, and with such a queer look about him that his
+fellow-workmen used to say, “Labakan has got on his aristocratic face
+today.”
+
+On Fridays he would put on his fine robe which he had bought with the
+money he had managed to save up, and go to the mosque. As he came back,
+after prayers, if he met any friend who said “Good-day,” or “How are
+you, friend Labakan?” he would wave his hand graciously or nod in a
+condescending way; and if his master happened to say to him, as he
+sometimes did, “Really, Labakan, you look like a prince,” he was
+delighted, and would answer, “Have you noticed it too?” or “Well, so I
+have long thought.”
+
+Things went on like this for some time, and the master put up with
+Labakan’s absurdities because he was, on the whole, a good fellow and a
+clever workman.
+
+One day, the sultan’s brother happened to be passing through
+Alexandria, and wanted to have one of his state robes altered, so he
+sent for the master tailor, who handed the robe over to Labakan as his
+best workman.
+
+In the evening, when every one had left the workshop and gone home, a
+great longing drove Labakan back to the place where the royal robe
+hung. He stood a long time gazing at it, admiring the rich material and
+the splendid embroidery in it. At last he could hold out no longer. He
+felt he must try it on, and lo! and behold, it fitted as though it had
+been made for him.
+
+“Am not I as good a prince as any other?” he asked himself, as he
+proudly paced up and down the room. “Has not the master often said that
+I seemed born to be a prince?”
+
+It seemed to him that he must be the son of some unknown monarch, and
+at last he determined to set out at once and travel in search of his
+proper rank.
+
+He felt as if the splendid robe had been sent him by some kind fairy,
+and he took care not to neglect such a precious gift. He collected all
+his savings, and, concealed by the darkness of the night, he passed
+through the gates of Alexandria.
+
+The new prince excited a good deal of curiosity where ever he went, for
+his splendid robe and majestic manner did not seem quite suitable to a
+person travelling on foot. If anyone asked questions, he only replied
+with an important air of mystery that he had his own reasons for not
+riding.
+
+However, he soon found out that walking made him ridiculous, so at last
+he bought a quiet, steady old horse, which he managed to get cheap.
+
+One day, as he was ambling along upon Murva (that was the horse’s
+name), a horseman overtook him and asked leave to join him, so that
+they might both beguile the journey with pleasant talk. The newcomer
+was a bright, cheerful, good-looking young man, who soon plunged into
+conversation and asked many questions. He told Labakan that his own
+name was Omar, that he was a nephew of Elfi Bey, and was travelling in
+order to carry out a command given him by his uncle on his death bed.
+Labakan was not quite so open in his confidences, but hinted that he
+too was of noble birth and was travelling for pleasure.
+
+The two young men took a fancy to each other and rode on together. On
+the second day of their journey Labakan questioned Omar as to the
+orders he had to carry out, and to his surprise heard this tale.
+
+Elfi Bey, Pacha of Cairo, had brought up Omar from his earliest
+childhood, and the boy had never known his parents. On his deathbed
+Elfi Bey called Omar to him, and then told him that he was not his
+nephew, but the son of a great king, who, having been warned of coming
+dangers by his astrologers, had sent the young prince away and made a
+vow not to see him till his twenty-second birthday.
+
+Elfi Bey did not tell Omar his father’s name, but expressly desired him
+to be at a great pillar four days’ journey east of Alexandria on the
+fourth day of the coming month, on which day he would be twenty-two
+years old. Here he would meet some men, to whom he was to hand a dagger
+which Elfi Bey gave him, and to say “Here am I for whom you seek.”
+
+If they answered: “Praised be the Prophet who has preserved you,” he
+was to follow them, and they would take him to his father.
+
+Labakan was greatly surprised and interested by this story, but after
+hearing it he could not help looking on Prince Omar with envious eyes,
+angry that his friend should have the position he himself longed so
+much for. He began to make comparisons between the prince and himself,
+and was obliged to confess that he was a fine-looking young man with
+very good manners and a pleasant expression.
+
+At the same time, he felt sure that had he been in the prince’s place
+any royal father might have been glad to own him.
+
+These thoughts haunted him all day, and he dreamt them all night. He
+woke very early, and as he saw Omar sleeping quietly, with a happy
+smile on his face, a wish arose in his mind to take by force or by
+cunning the things which an unkind fate had denied him.
+
+The dagger which was to act as a passport was sticking in Omar’s
+girdle. Labakan drew it gently out, and hesitated for a moment whether
+or not to plunge it into the heart of the sleeping prince. However, he
+shrank from the idea of murder, so he contented himself with placing
+the dagger in his own belt, and, saddling Omar’s swift horse for
+himself, was many miles away before the prince woke up to realise his
+losses.
+
+For two days Labakan rode on steadily, fearing lest, after all, Omar
+might reach the meeting place before him. At the end of the second day
+he saw the great pillar at a distance. It stood on a little hill in the
+middle of a plain, and could be seen a very long way off. Labakan’s
+heart beat fast at the sight. Though he had had some time in which to
+think over the part he meant to play his conscience made him rather
+uneasy. However, the thought that he must certainly have been born to
+be a king supported him, and he bravely rode on.
+
+The neighbourhood was quite bare and desert, and it was a good thing
+that the new prince had brought food for some time with him, as two
+days were still wanting till the appointed time.
+
+Towards the middle of the next day he saw a long procession of horses
+and camels coming towards him. It halted at the bottom of the hill, and
+some splendid tents were pitched. Everything looked like the escort of
+some great man. Labakan made a shrewd guess that all these people had
+come here on his account; but he checked his impatience, knowing that
+only on the fourth day could his wishes be fulfilled.
+
+The first rays of the rising sun woke the happy tailor. As he began to
+saddle his horse and prepare to ride to the pillar, he could not help
+having some remorseful thoughts of the trick he had played and the
+blighted hopes of the real prince. But the die was cast, and his vanity
+whispered that he was as fine looking a young man as the proudest king
+might wish his son to be, and that, moreover, what had happened had
+happened.
+
+With these thoughts he summoned up all his courage sprang on his horse,
+and in less than a quarter of an hour was at the foot of the hill. Here
+he dismounted, tied the horse to a bush, and, drawing out Prince Omar’s
+dagger climbed up the hill.
+
+At the foot of the pillar stood six men round a tall and stately
+person. His superb robe of cloth of gold was girt round him by a white
+cashmere shawl, and his white, richly jewelled turban showed that he
+was a man of wealth and high rank.
+
+Labakan went straight up to him, and, bending low, handed him the
+dagger, saying: “Here am I whom you seek.”
+
+“Praised be the Prophet who has preserved you! replied the old man with
+tears of joy. “Embrace me, my dear son Omar!”
+
+The proud tailor was deeply moved by these solemn words, and with
+mingled shame and joy sank into the old king’s arms.
+
+But his happiness was not long unclouded. As he raised his head he saw
+a horseman who seemed trying to urge a tired or unwilling horse across
+the plain.
+
+Only too soon Labakan recognised his own old horse, Murva, and the real
+Prince Omar, but having once told a lie he made up his mind not to own
+his deceit.
+
+At last the horseman reached the foot of the hill. Here he flung
+himself from the saddle and hurried up to the pillar.
+
+“Stop!” he cried, “whoever you may be, and do not let a disgraceful
+impostor take you in. My name is Omar, and let no one attempt to rob me
+of it.”
+
+This turn of affairs threw the standers-by into great surprise. The old
+king in particular seemed much moved as he looked from one face to the
+other. At last Labakan spoke with forced calmness, “Most gracious lord
+and father, do not let yourself be deceived by this man. As far as I
+know, he is a half-crazy tailor’s apprentice from Alexandria, called
+Labakan, who really deserves more pity than anger.”
+
+These words infuriated the prince. Foaming with rage, he tried to press
+towards Labakan, but the attendants threw themselves upon him and held
+him fast, whilst the king said, “Truly, my dear son, the poor fellow is
+quite mad. Let him be bound and placed on a dromedary. Perhaps we may
+be able to get some help for him.”
+
+The prince’s first rage was over, and with tears he cried to the king,
+“My heart tells me that you are my father, and in my mother’s name I
+entreat you to hear me.”
+
+“Oh! heaven forbid!” was the reply. “He is talking nonsense again. How
+can the poor man have got such notions into his head?”
+
+With these words the king took Labakan’s arm to support him down the
+hill. They both mounted richly caparisoned horses and rode across the
+plain at the head of their followers.
+
+The unlucky prince was tied hand and foot, and fastened on a dromedary,
+a guard riding on either side and keeping a sharp look-out on him.
+
+The old king was Sached, Sultan of the Wachabites. For many years he
+had had no children, but at length the son he had so long wished for
+was born. But the sooth-sayers and magicians whom he consulted as to
+the child’s future all said that until he was twenty-two years old he
+stood in danger of being injured by an enemy. So, to make all safe, the
+sultan had confided the prince to his trusty friend Elfi Bey, and
+deprived himself of the happiness of seeing him for twenty-two years.
+All this the sultan told Labakan, and was much pleased by his
+appearance and dignified manner.
+
+When they reached their own country they were received with every sign
+of joy, for the news of the prince’s safe return had spread like
+wildfire, and every town and village was decorated, whilst the
+inhabitants thronged to greet them with cries of joy and thankfulness.
+All this filled Labakan’s proud heart with rapture, whilst the
+unfortunate Omar followed in silent rage and despair.
+
+At length they arrived in the capital, where the public rejoicings were
+grander and more brilliant than anywhere else. The queen awaited them
+in the great hall of the palace, surrounded by her entire court. It was
+getting dark, and hundreds of coloured hanging lamps were lit to turn
+night into day.
+
+The brightest hung round the throne on which the queen sat, and which
+stood above four steps of pure gold inlaid with great amethysts. The
+four greatest nobles in the kingdom held a canopy of crimson silk over
+the queen, and the Sheik of Medina fanned her with a peacock-feather
+fan.
+
+In this state she awaited her husband and her son. She, too, had not
+seen Omar since his birth, but so many dreams had shown her what he
+would look like that she felt she would know him among a thousand.
+
+And now the sound of trumpets and drums and of shouts and cheers
+outside announced the long looked for moment. The doors flew open, and
+between rows of low-bending courtiers and servants the king approached
+the throne, leading his pretended son by the hand.
+
+“Here,” said he, “is he for whom you have been longing so many years.”
+
+But the queen interrupted him, “That is not my son!” she cried. “That
+is not the face the Prophet has shown me in my dreams!”
+
+Just as the king was about to reason with her, the door was thrown
+violently open, and Prince Omar rushed in, followed by his keepers,
+whom he had managed to get away from. He flung himself down before the
+throne, panting out, “Here will I die; kill me at once, cruel father,
+for I cannot bear this shame any longer.”
+
+Everyone pressed round the unhappy man, and the guards were about to
+seize him, when the queen, who at first was dumb with surprise, sprang
+up from her throne.
+
+“Hold!” cried she. “This and no other is the right one; this is the one
+whom my eyes have never yet seen, but whom my heart recognises.”
+
+The guards had stepped back, but the king called to them in a furious
+voice to secure the madman.
+
+“It is I who must judge,” he said in tones of command; “and this matter
+cannot be decided by women’s dreams, but by certain unmistakable signs.
+This one” (pointing to Labakan) “is my son, for it was he who brought
+me the token from my friend Elfi—the dagger.”
+
+“He stole it from me,” shrieked Omar; “he betrayed my unsuspicious
+confidence.”
+
+But the king would not listen to his son’s voice, for he had always
+been accustomed to depend on his own judgment. He let the unhappy Omar
+be dragged from the hall, whilst he himself retired with Labakan to his
+own rooms, full of anger with the queen his wife, in spite of their
+many years of happy life together.
+
+The queen, on her side, was plunged in grief, for she felt certain that
+an impostor had won her husband’s heart and taken the place of her real
+son.
+
+When the first shock was over she began to think how she could manage
+to convince the king of his mistake. Of course it would be a difficult
+matter, as the man who declared he was Omar had produced the dagger as
+a token, besides talking of all sorts of things which happened when he
+was a child. She called her oldest and wisest ladies about her and
+asked their advice, but none of them had any to give. At last one very
+clever old woman said: “Did not the young man who brought the dagger
+call him whom your majesty believes to be your son Labakan, and say he
+was a crazy tailor?”
+
+“Yes,” replied the queen; “but what of that?”
+
+“Might it not be,” said the old lady, “that the impostor has called
+your real son by his own name? If this should be the case, I know of a
+capital way to find out the truth.”
+
+And she whispered some words to the queen, who seemed much pleased, and
+went off at once to see the king.
+
+Now the queen was a very wise woman, so she pretended to think she
+might have made a mistake, and only begged to be allowed to put a test
+to the two young men to prove which was the real prince.
+
+The king, who was feeling much ashamed of the rage he had been in with
+his dear wife, consented at once, and she said: “No doubt others would
+make them ride or shoot, or something of that sort, but every one
+learns these things. I wish to set them a task which requires sharp
+wits and clever hands, and I want them to try which of them can best
+make a kaftan and pair of trousers.”
+
+The king laughed. “No, no, that will never do. Do you suppose my son
+would compete with that crazy tailor as to which could make the best
+clothes? Oh, dear, no, that won’t do at all.”
+
+But the queen claimed his promise, and as he was a man of his word the
+king gave in at last. He went to his son and begged that he would
+humour his mother, who had set her heart on his making a kaftan.
+
+The worthy Labakan laughed to himself. “If that is all she wants,”
+thought he, “her majesty will soon be pleased to own me.”
+
+Two rooms were prepared, with pieces of material, scissors, needles and
+threads, and each young man was shut up in one of them.
+
+The king felt rather curious as to what sort of garment his son would
+make, and the queen, too, was very anxious as to the result of her
+experiment.
+
+On the third day they sent for the two young men and their work.
+Labakan came first and spread out his kaftan before the eyes of the
+astonished king. “See, father,” he said; “see, my honoured mother, if
+this is not a masterpiece of work. I’ll bet the court tailor himself
+cannot do better.
+
+The queen smiled and turned to Omar: “And what have you done, my son?”
+
+Impatiently he threw the stuff and scissors down on the floor. “I have
+been taught how to manage a horse, to draw a sword, and to throw a
+lance some sixty paces, but I never learnt to sew, and such a thing
+would have been thought beneath the notice of the pupil of Elfi Bey,
+the ruler of Cairo.”
+
+“Ah, true son of your father,” cried the queen; “if only I might
+embrace you and call you son! Forgive me, my lord and husband,” she
+added, turning to the king, “for trying to find out the truth in this
+way. Do you not see yourself now which is the prince and which the
+tailor? Certainly this kaftan is a very fine one, but I should like to
+know what master taught this young man how to make clothes.”
+
+The king sat deep in thought, looking now at his wife and now at
+Labakan, who was doing his best to hide his vexation at his own
+stupidity. At last the king said: “Even this trial does not satisfy me;
+but happily I know of a sure way to discover whether or not I have been
+deceived.”
+
+He ordered his swiftest horse to be saddled, mounted, and rode off
+alone into a forest at some little distance. Here lived a kindly fairy
+called Adolzaide, who had often helped the kings of his race with her
+good advice, and to her he betook himself.
+
+In the middle of the forest was a wide open space surrounded by great
+cedar trees, and this was supposed to be the fairy’s favourite spot.
+When the king reached this place he dismounted, tied his horse to the
+tree, and standing in the middle of the open place said: “If it is true
+that you have helped my ancestors in their time of need, do not despise
+their descendant, but give me counsel, for that of men has failed me.”
+
+He had hardly finished speaking when one of the cedar trees opened, and
+a veiled figure all dressed in white stepped from it.
+
+“I know your errand, King Sached,” she said; “it is an honest one, and
+I will give you my help. Take these two little boxes and let the two
+men who claim to be your son choose between them. I know that the real
+prince will make no mistake.”
+
+She then handed him two little boxes made of ivory set with gold and
+pearls. On the lid of each (which the king vainly tried to open) was an
+inscription in diamonds. On one stood the words “Honour and Glory,” and
+on the other “Wealth and Happiness.”
+
+“It would be a hard choice,” thought the king as he rode home.
+
+He lost no time in sending for the queen and for all his court, and
+when all were assembled he made a sign, and Labakan was led in. With a
+proud air he walked up to the throne, and kneeling down, asked:
+
+“What does my lord and father command?”
+
+The king replied: “My son, doubts have been thrown on your claim to
+that name. One of these boxes contains the proofs of your birth. Choose
+for yourself. No doubt you will choose right.”
+
+He then pointed to the ivory boxes, which were placed on two little
+tables near the throne.
+
+Labakan rose and looked at the boxes. He thought for some minutes, and
+then said: “My honoured father, what can be better than the happiness
+of being your son, and what nobler than the riches of your love. I
+choose the box with the words ‘Wealth and Happiness.’”
+
+“We shall see presently if you have chosen the right one. For the
+present take a seat there beside the Pacha of Medina,” replied the
+king.
+
+Omar was next led in, looking sad and sorrowful. He threw himself down
+before the throne and asked what was the king’s pleasure. The king
+pointed out the two boxes to him, and he rose and went to the tables.
+He carefully read the two mottoes and said: “The last few days have
+shown me how uncertain is happiness and how easily riches vanish away.
+Should I lose a crown by it I make my choice of ‘Honour and Glory.’”
+
+He laid his hand on the box as he spoke, but the king signed to him to
+wait, and ordered Labakan to come to the other table and lay his hand
+on the box he had chosen.
+
+Then the king rose from his throne, and in solemn silence all present
+rose too, whilst he said: “Open the boxes, and may Allah show us the
+truth.”
+
+The boxes were opened with the greatest ease. In the one Omar had
+chosen lay a little gold crown and sceptre on a velvet cushion. In
+Labakan’s box was found—a large needle with some thread!
+
+The king told the two young men to bring him their boxes. They did so.
+He took the crown in his hand, and as he held it, it grew bigger and
+bigger, till it was as large as a real crown. He placed it on the head
+of his son Omar, kissed him on the forehead, and placed him on his
+right hand. Then, turning to Labakan, he said: “There is an old
+proverb, ‘The cobbler sticks to his last.’ It seems as though you were
+to stick to your needle. You have not deserved any mercy, but I cannot
+be harsh on this day. I give you your life, but I advise you to leave
+this country as fast as you can.”
+
+Full of shame, the unlucky tailor could not answer. He flung himself
+down before Omar, and with tears in his eyes asked: “Can you forgive
+me, prince?”
+
+“Go in peace,” said Omar as he raised him.
+
+“Oh, my true son!” cried the king as he clasped the prince in his arms,
+whilst all the pachas and emirs shouted, “Long live Prince Omar!”
+
+In the midst of all the noise and rejoicing Labakan slipped off with
+his little box under his arm. He went to the stables, saddled his old
+horse, Murva, and rode out of the gate towards Alexandria. Nothing but
+the ivory box with its diamond motto was left to show him that the last
+few weeks had not been a dream.
+
+When he reached Alexandria he rode up to his old master’s door. When he
+entered the shop, his master came forward to ask what was his pleasure,
+but as soon as he saw who it was he called his workmen, and they all
+fell on Labakan with blows and angry words, till at last he fell, half
+fainting, on a heap of old clothes.
+
+The master then scolded him soundly about the stolen robe, but in vain
+Labakan told him he had come to pay for it and offered three times its
+price. They only fell to beating him again, and at last pushed him out
+of the house more dead than alive.
+
+He could do nothing but remount his horse and ride to an inn. Here he
+found a quiet place in which to rest his bruised and battered limbs and
+to think over his many misfortunes. He fell asleep fully determined to
+give up trying to be great, but to lead the life of an honest workman.
+
+Next morning he set to work to fulfil his good resolutions. He sold his
+little box to a jeweller for a good price, bought a house and opened a
+workshop. Then he hung up a sign with, “Labakan, Tailor,” over his
+door, and sat down to mend his own torn clothes with the very needle
+which had been in the ivory box.
+
+After a while he was called away, and when he went back to his work he
+found a wonderful thing had happened! The needle was sewing away all by
+itself and making the neatest little stitches, such as Labakan had
+never been able to make even at his best.
+
+Certainly even the smallest gift of a kind fairy is of great value, and
+this one had yet another advantage, for the thread never came to an
+end, however much the needle sewed.
+
+Labakan soon got plenty of customers. He used to cut out the clothes,
+make the first stitch with the magic needle, and then leave it to do
+the rest. Before long the whole town went to him, for his work was both
+so good and so cheap. The only puzzle was how he could do so much,
+working all alone, and also why he worked with closed doors.
+
+And so the promise on the ivory box of “Wealth and Happiness” came true
+for him, and when he heard of all the brave doings of Prince Omar, who
+was the pride and darling of his people and the terror of his enemies,
+the ex-prince thought to himself, “After all, I am better off as a
+tailor, for ‘Honour and Glory’ are apt to be very dangerous things.”
+
+
+
+
+The Colony Of Cats
+
+
+Long, long ago, as far back as the time when animals spoke, there lived
+a community of cats in a deserted house they had taken possession of
+not far from a large town. They had everything they could possibly
+desire for their comfort, they were well fed and well lodged, and if by
+any chance an unlucky mouse was stupid enough to venture in their way,
+they caught it, not to eat it, but for the pure pleasure of catching
+it. The old people of the town related how they had heard their parents
+speak of a time when the whole country was so overrun with rats and
+mice that there was not so much as a grain of corn nor an ear of maize
+to be gathered in the fields; and it might be out of gratitude to the
+cats who had rid the country of these plagues that their descendants
+were allowed to live in peace. No one knows where they got the money to
+pay for everything, nor who paid it, for all this happened so very long
+ago. But one thing is certain, they were rich enough to keep a servant;
+for though they lived very happily together, and did not scratch nor
+fight more than human beings would have done, they were not clever
+enough to do the housework themselves, and preferred at all events to
+have some one to cook their meat, which they would have scorned to eat
+raw. Not only were they very difficult to please about the housework,
+but most women quickly tired of living alone with only cats for
+companions, consequently they never kept a servant long; and it had
+become a saying in the town, when anyone found herself reduced to her
+last penny: “I will go and live with the cats,” and so many a poor
+woman actually did.
+
+Now Lizina was not happy at home, for her mother, who was a widow, was
+much fonder of her elder daughter; so that often the younger one fared
+very badly, and had not enough to eat, while the elder could have
+everything she desired, and if Lizina dared to complain she was certain
+to have a good beating.
+
+At last the day came when she was at the end of her courage and
+patience, and exclaimed to her mother and sister:
+
+“As you hate me so much you will be glad to be rid of me, so I am going
+to live with the cats!”
+
+“Be off with you!” cried her mother, seizing an old broom-handle from
+behind the door. Poor Lizina did not wait to be told twice, but ran off
+at once and never stopped till she reached the door of the cats’ house.
+Their cook had left them that very morning, with her face all
+scratched, the result of such a quarrel with the head of the house that
+he had very nearly scratched out her eyes. Lizina therefore was warmly
+welcomed, and she set to work at once to prepare the dinner, not
+without many misgivings as to the tastes of the cats, and whether she
+would be able to satisfy them.
+
+Going to and fro about her work, she found herself frequently hindered
+by a constant succession of cats who appeared one after another in the
+kitchen to inspect the new servant; she had one in front of her feet,
+another perched on the back of her chair while she peeled the
+vegetables, a third sat on the table beside her, and five or six others
+prowled about among the pots and pans on the shelves against the wall.
+The air resounded with their purring, which meant that they were
+pleased with their new maid, but Lizina had not yet learned to
+understand their language, and often she did not know what they wanted
+her to do. However, as she was a good, kindhearted girl, she set to
+work to pick up the little kittens which tumbled about on the floor,
+she patched up quarrels, and nursed on her lap a big tabby—the oldest
+of the community—which had a lame paw. All these kindnesses could
+hardly fail to make a favourable impression on the cats, and it was
+even better after a while, when she had had time to grow accustomed to
+their strange ways. Never had the house been kept so clean, the meats
+so well served, nor the sick cats so well cared for. After a time they
+had a visit from an old cat, whom they called their father, who lived
+by himself in a barn at the top of the hill, and came down from time to
+time to inspect the little colony. He too was much taken with Lizina,
+and inquired, on first seeing her: “Are you well served by this nice,
+black-eyed little person?” and the cats answered with one voice: “Oh,
+yes, Father Gatto, we have never had so good a servant!”
+
+At each of his visits the answer was always the same; but after a time
+the old cat, who was very observant, noticed that the little maid had
+grown to look sadder and sadder. “What is the matter, my child has any
+one been unkind to you?” he asked one day, when he found her crying in
+her kitchen. She burst into tears and answered between her sobs: “Oh,
+no! they are all very good to me; but I long for news from home, and I
+pine to see my mother and my sister.”
+
+Old Gatto, being a sensible old cat, understood the little servant’s
+feelings. “You shall go home,” he said, “and you shall not come back
+here unless you please. But first you must be rewarded for all your
+kind services to my children. Follow me down into the inner cellar,
+where you have never yet been, for I always keep it locked and carry
+the key away with me.”
+
+Lizina looked round her in astonishment as they went down into the
+great vaulted cellar underneath the kitchen. Before her stood the big
+earthenware water jars, one of which contained oil, the other a liquid
+shining like gold. “In which of these jars shall I dip you?” asked
+Father Gatto, with a grin that showed all his sharp white teeth, while
+his moustaches stood out straight on either side of his face. The
+little maid looked at the two jars from under her long dark lashes: “In
+the oil jar,” she answered timidly, thinking to herself: “I could not
+ask to be bathed in gold.”
+
+But Father Gatto replied: “No, no; you have deserved something better
+than that.” And seizing her in his strong paws he plunged her into the
+liquid gold. Wonder of wonders! when Lizina came out of the jar she
+shone from head to foot like the sun in the heavens on a fine summer’s
+day. Her pretty pink cheeks and long black hair alone kept their
+natural colour, otherwise she had become like a statue of pure gold.
+Father Gatto purred loudly with satisfaction. “Go home,” he said, “and
+see your mother and sisters; but take care if you hear the cock crow to
+turn towards it; if on the contrary the ass brays, you must look the
+other way.”
+
+The little maid, having gratefully kissed the white paw of the old cat,
+set off for home; but just as she got near her mother’s house the cock
+crowed, and quickly she turned towards it. Immediately a beautiful
+golden star appeared on her forehead, crowning her glossy black hair.
+At the same time the ass began to bray, but Lizina took care not to
+look over the fence into the field where the donkey was feeding. Her
+mother and sister, who were in front of their house, uttered cries of
+admiration and astonishment when they saw her, and their cries became
+still louder when Lizina, taking her handkerchief from her pocket, drew
+out also a handful of gold.
+
+For some days the mother and her two daughters lived very happily
+together, for Lizina had given them everything she had brought away
+except her golden clothing, for that would not come off, in spite of
+all the efforts of her sister, who was madly jealous of her good
+fortune. The golden star, too, could not be removed from her forehead.
+But all the gold pieces she drew from her pockets had found their way
+to her mother and sister.
+
+“I will go now and see what I can get out of the pussies,” said
+Peppina, the elder girl, one morning, as she took Lizina’s basket and
+fastened her pockets into her own skirt. “I should like some of the
+cats’ gold for myself,” she thought, as she left her mother’s house
+before the sun rose.
+
+The cat colony had not yet taken another servant, for they knew they
+could never get one to replace Lizina, whose loss they had not yet
+ceased to mourn. When they heard that Peppina was her sister, they all
+ran to meet her. “She is not the least like her,” the kittens whispered
+among themselves.
+
+“Hush, be quiet!” the older cats said; “all servants cannot be pretty.”
+
+No, decidedly she was not at all like Lizina. Even the most reasonable
+and large-minded of the cats soon acknowledged that.
+
+The very first day she shut the kitchen door in the face of the
+tom-cats who used to enjoy watching Lizina at her work, and a young and
+mischievous cat who jumped in by the open kitchen window and alighted
+on the table got such a blow with the rolling-pin that he squalled for
+an hour.
+
+With every day that passed the household became more and more aware of
+its misfortune.
+
+The work was as badly done as the servant was surly and disagreeable;
+in the corners of the rooms there were collected heaps of dust;
+spiders’ webs hung from the ceilings and in front of the window-panes;
+the beds were hardly ever made, and the feather beds, so beloved by the
+old and feeble cats, had never once been shaken since Lizina left the
+house. At Father Gatto’s next visit he found the whole colony in a
+state of uproar.
+
+“Caesar has one paw so badly swollen that it looks as if it were
+broken,” said one. “Peppina kicked him with her great wooden shoes on.
+Hector has an abscess in his back where a wooden chair was flung at
+him; and Agrippina’s three little kittens have died of hunger beside
+their mother, because Peppina forgot them in their basket up in the
+attic. There is no putting up with the creature—do send her away,
+Father Gatto! Lizina herself would not be angry with us; she must know
+very well what her sister is like.”
+
+“Come here,” said Father Gatto, in his most severe tones to Peppina.
+And he took her down into the cellar and showed her the same two great
+jars that he had showed Lizina. “In which of these shall I dip you?” he
+asked; and she made haste to answer: “In the liquid gold,” for she was
+no more modest than she was good and kind.
+
+Father Gatto’s yellow eyes darted fire. “You have not deserved it,” he
+uttered, in a voice like thunder, and seizing her he flung her into the
+jar of oil, where she was nearly suffocated. When she came to the
+surface screaming and struggling, the vengeful cat seized her again and
+rolled her in the ash-heap on the floor; then when she rose, dirty,
+blinded, and disgusting to behold, he thrust her from the door, saying:
+“Begone, and when you meet a braying ass be careful to turn your head
+towards it.”
+
+Stumbling and raging, Peppina set off for home, thinking herself
+fortunate to find a stick by the wayside with which to support herself.
+She was within sight of her mother’s house when she heard in the meadow
+on the right, the voice of a donkey loudly braying. Quickly she turned
+her head towards it, and at the same time put her hand up to her
+forehead, where, waving like a plume, was a donkey’s tail. She ran home
+to her mother at the top of her speed, yelling with rage and despair;
+and it took Lizina two hours with a big basin of hot water and two
+cakes of soap to get rid of the layer of ashes with which Father Gatto
+had adorned her. As for the donkey’s tail, it was impossible to get rid
+of that; it was as firmly fixed on her forehead as was the golden star
+on Lizina’s. Their mother was furious. She first beat Lizina
+unmercifully with the broom, then she took her to the mouth of the well
+and lowered her into it, leaving her at the bottom weeping and crying
+for help.
+
+Before this happened, however, the king’s son in passing the mother’s
+house had seen Lizina sitting sewing in the parlour, and had been
+dazzled by her beauty. After coming back two or three times, he at last
+ventured to approach the window and to whisper in the softest voice:
+“Lovely maiden, will you be my bride?” and she had answered: “I will.”
+
+Next morning, when the prince arrived to claim his bride, he found her
+wrapped in a large white veil. “It is so that maidens are received from
+their parents’ hands,” said the mother, who hoped to make the king’s
+son marry Peppina in place of her sister, and had fastened the donkey’s
+tail round her head like a lock of hair under the veil. The prince was
+young and a little timid, so he made no objections, and seated Peppina
+in the carriage beside him.
+
+Their way led past the old house inhabited by the cats, who were all at
+the window, for the report had got about that the prince was going to
+marry the most beautiful maiden in the world, on whose forehead shone a
+golden star, and they knew that this could only be their adored Lizina.
+As the carriage slowly passed in front of the old house, where cats
+from all parts of world seemed to be gathered a song burst from every
+throat:
+
+Mew, mew, mew!
+Prince, look quick behind you!
+In the well is fair Lizina,
+And you’ve got nothing but Peppina.
+
+
+When he heard this the coachman, who understood the cat’s language
+better than the prince, his master, stopped his horses and asked:
+
+“Does your highness know what the grimalkins are saying?” and the song
+broke forth again louder than ever.
+
+With a turn of his hand the prince threw back the veil, and discovered
+the puffed-up, swollen face of Peppina, with the donkey’s tail twisted
+round her head. “Ah, traitress!” he exclaimed, and ordering the horses
+to be turned round, he drove the elder daughter, quivering with rage,
+to the old woman who had sought to deceive him. With his hand on the
+hilt of his sword he demanded Lizina in so terrific a voice that the
+mother hastened to the well to draw her prisoner out. Lizina’s clothing
+and her star shone so brilliantly that when the prince led her home to
+the king, his father, the whole palace was lit up. Next day they were
+married, and lived happy ever after; and all the cats, headed by old
+Father Gatto, were present at the wedding.
+
+
+
+
+How To Find Out A True Friend
+
+
+Once upon a time there lived a king and queen who longed to have a son.
+As none came, one day they made a vow at the shrine of St. James that
+if their prayers were granted the boy should set out on a pilgrimage as
+soon as he had passed his eighteenth birthday. And fancy their delight
+when one evening the king returned home from hunting and saw a baby
+lying in the cradle.
+
+All the people came crowding round to peep at it, and declared it was
+the most beautiful baby that ever was seen. Of course that is what they
+always say, but this time it happened to be true. And every day the boy
+grew bigger and stronger till he was twelve years old, when the king
+died, and he was left alone to take care of his mother.
+
+In this way six years passed by, and his eighteenth birthday drew near.
+When she thought of this the queen’s heart sank within her, for he was
+the light of her eyes and how was she to send him forth to the unknown
+dangers that beset a pilgrim? So day by day she grew more and more
+sorrowful, and when she was alone wept bitterly.
+
+Now the queen imagined that no one but herself knew how sad she was,
+but one morning her son said to her, “Mother, why do you cry the whole
+day long?”
+
+“Nothing, nothing, my son; there is only one thing in the world that
+troubles me.”
+
+“What is that one thing?” asked he. “Are you afraid your property is
+badly managed? Let me go and look into the matter.”
+
+This pleased the queen, and he rode off to the plain country, where his
+mother owned great estates; but everything was in beautiful order, and
+he returned with a joyful heart, and said, “Now, mother, you can be
+happy again, for your lands are better managed than anyone else’s I
+have seen. The cattle are thriving; the fields are thick with corn, and
+soon they will be ripe for harvest.”
+
+“That is good news indeed,” answered she; but it did not seem to make
+any difference to her, and the next morning she was weeping and wailing
+as loudly as ever.
+
+“Dear mother,” said her son in despair, “if you will not tell me what
+is the cause of all this misery I shall leave home and wander far
+through the world.”
+
+“Ah, my son, my son,” cried the queen, “it is the thought that I must
+part from you which causes me such grief; for before you were born we
+vowed a vow to St. James that when your eighteenth birthday was passed
+you should make a pilgrimage to his shrine, and very soon you will be
+eighteen, and I shall lose you. And for a whole year my eyes will never
+be gladdened by the sight of you, for the shrine is far away.”
+
+“Will it take no longer than that to reach it?” said he. “Oh, don’t be
+so wretched; it is only dead people who never return. As long as I am
+alive you may be sure I will come back to you.”
+
+After this manner he comforted his mother, and on his eighteenth
+birthday his best horse was led to the door of the palace, and he took
+leave of the queen in these words, “Dear mother, farewell, and by the
+help of fate I shall return to you as soon as I can.”
+
+The queen burst into tears and wept sore; then amidst her sobs she drew
+three apples from her pocket and held them out, saying, “My son, take
+these apples and give heed unto my words. You will need a companion in
+the long journey on which you are going. If you come across a young man
+who pleases you beg him to accompany you, and when you get to an inn
+invite him to have dinner with you. After you have eaten cut one of
+these apples in two unequal parts, and ask him to take one. If he takes
+the larger bit, then part from him, for he is no true friend to you.
+But if he takes the smaller bit treat him as your brother, and share
+with him all you have.” Then she kissed her son once more, and blessed
+him, and let him go.
+
+The young man rode a long way without meeting a single creature, but at
+last he saw a youth in the distance about the same age as himself, and
+he spurred his horse till he came up with the stranger, who stopped and
+asked:
+
+“Where are you going, my fine fellow?”
+
+“I am making a pilgrimage to the shrine of St. James, for before I was
+born my mother vowed that I should go forth with a thank offering on my
+eighteenth birthday.”
+
+“That is my case too,” said the stranger, “and, as we must both travel
+in the same direction, let us bear each other company.”
+
+The young man agreed to this proposal, but he took care not to get on
+terms of familiarity with the new comer until he had tried him with the
+apple.
+
+By-and-by they reached an inn, and at sight of it the king’s son said,
+“I am very hungry. Let us enter and order something to eat.” The other
+consented, and they were soon sitting before a good dinner.
+
+When they had finished the king’s son drew an apple from his pocket,
+and cut it into a big half and a little half, and offered both to the
+stranger, who took the biggest bit. “You are no friend of mine,”
+thought the king’s son, and in order to part company with him he
+pretended to be ill and declared himself unable to proceed on his
+journey.
+
+“Well, I can’t wait for you,” replied the other; “I am in haste to push
+on, so farewell.”
+
+“Farewell,” said the king’s son, glad in his heart to get rid of him so
+easily. The king’s son remained in the inn for some time, so as to let
+the young man have a good start; them he ordered his horse and rode
+after him. But he was very sociable and the way seemed long and dull by
+himself. “Oh, if I could only meet with a true friend,” he thought, “so
+that I should have some one to speak to. I hate being alone.”
+
+Soon after he came up with a young man, who stopped and asked him,
+“Where are you going, my fine fellow?” The king’s son explained the
+object of his journey, and the young man answered, as the other had
+done, that he also was fulfilling the vow of his mother made at his
+birth.
+
+“Well, we can ride on together,” said the king’s son, and the road
+seemed much shorter now that he had some one to talk to.
+
+At length they reached an inn, and the king’s son exclaimed, “I am very
+hungry; let us go in and get something to eat.”
+
+When they had finished the king’s son drew an apple out of his pocket
+and cut it in two; he held the big bit and the little bit out to his
+companion, who took the big bit at once and soon ate it up. “You are no
+friend of mine,” thought the king’s son, and began to declare he felt
+so ill he could not continue his journey. When he had given the young
+man a good start he set off himself, but the way seemed even longer and
+duller than before. “Oh, if I could only meet with a true friend he
+should be as a brother to me,” he sighed sadly; and as the thought
+passed through his mind, he noticed a youth going the same road as
+himself.
+
+The youth came up to him and said, “Which way are you going, my fine
+fellow?” And for the third time the king’s son explained all about his
+mother’s vow. Why, that is just like me,” cried the youth.
+
+“Then let us ride on together,” answered the king’s son.
+
+Now the miles seemed to slip by, for the new comer was so lively and
+entertaining that the king’s son could not help hoping that he indeed
+might prove to be the true friend.
+
+More quickly than he could have thought possible they reached an inn by
+the road-side, and turning to his companion the king’s son said, “I am
+hungry; let us go in and have something to eat.” So they went in and
+ordered dinner, and when they had finished the king’s son drew out of
+his pocket the last apple, and cut it into two unequal parts, and held
+both out to the stranger. And the stranger took the little piece, and
+the heart of the king’s son was glad within him, for at last he had
+found the friend he had been looking for. “Good youth,” he cried, “we
+will be brothers, and what is mine shall be thine, and what is thine
+shall be mine. And together we will push on to the shrine, and if one
+of us dies on the road the other shall carry his body there.” And the
+stranger agreed to all he said, and they rode forward together.
+
+It took them a whole year to reach the shrine, and they passed through
+many different lands on their way. One day they arrived tired and
+half-starved in a big city, and said to one another, “Let us stay here
+for a little and rest before we set forth again.” So they hired a small
+house close to the royal castle, and took up their abode there.
+
+The following morning the king of the country happened to step on to
+his balcony, and saw the young men in the garden, and said to himself,
+“Dear me, those are wonderfully handsome youths; but one is handsomer
+than the other, and to him will I give my daughter to wife;” and indeed
+the king’s son excelled his friend in beauty.
+
+In order to set about his plan the king asked both the young men to
+dinner, and when they arrived at the castle he received them with the
+utmost kindness, and sent for his daughter, who was more lovely than
+both the sun and moon put together. But at bed-time the king caused the
+other young man to be given a poisoned drink, which killed him in a few
+minutes, for he thought to himself, “If his friend dies the other will
+forget his pilgrimage, and will stay here and marry my daughter.”
+
+When the king’s son awoke the next morning he inquired of the servants
+where his friend had gone, as he did not see him. “He died suddenly
+last night,” said they, “and is to be buried immediately.”
+
+But the king’s son sprang up, and cried, “If my friend is dead I can
+stay here no longer, and cannot linger an hour in this house.”
+
+“Oh, give up your journey and remain here,” exclaimed the king, “and
+you shall have my daughter for your wife.” “No,” answered the king’s
+son, “I cannot stay; but, I pray you, grant my request, and give me a
+good horse, and let me go in peace, and when I have fulfilled my vow
+then I will return and marry your daughter.”
+
+So the king, seeing no words would move him, ordered a horse to be
+brought round, and the king’s son mounted it, and took his dead friend
+before him on the saddle, and rode away.
+
+Now the young man was not really dead, but only in a deep sleep.
+
+When the king’s son reached the shrine of St. James he got down from
+his horse, took his friend in his arms as if he had been a child, and
+laid him before the altar. “St. James,” he said, “I have fulfilled the
+vow my parents made for me. I have come myself to your shrine, and have
+brought my friend. I place him in your hands. Restore him to life, I
+pray, for though he be dead yet has he fulfilled his vow also.” And,
+behold! while he yet prayed his friend got up and stood before him as
+well as ever. And both the young men gave thanks, and set their faces
+towards home.
+
+When they arrived at the town where the king dwelt they entered the
+small house over against the castle. The news of their coming spread
+very soon, and the king rejoiced greatly that the handsome young prince
+had come back again, and commanded great feasts to be prepared, for in
+a few days his daughter should marry the king’s son. The young man
+himself could imagine no greater happiness, and when the marriage was
+over they spent some months at the court making merry.
+
+At length the king’s son said, “My mother awaits me at home, full of
+care and anxiety. Here I must remain no longer, and to-morrow I will
+take my wife and my friend and start for home.” And the king was
+content that he should do so, and gave orders to prepare for their
+journey.
+
+Now in his heart the king cherished a deadly hate towards the poor
+young man whom he had tried to kill, but who had returned to him
+living, and in order to do him hurt sent him on a message to some
+distant spot. “See that you are quick,” said he, “for your friend will
+await your return before he starts.” The youth put spurs to his horse
+and departed, bidding the prince farewell, so that the king’s message
+might be delivered the sooner. As soon as he had started the king went
+to the chamber of the prince, and said to him, “If you do not start
+immediately, you will never reach the place where you must camp for the
+night.”
+
+“I cannot start without my friend,” replied the king’s son.
+
+“Oh, he will be back in an hour,” replied the king, “and I will give
+him my best horse, so that he will be sure to catch you up.” The king’s
+son allowed himself to be persuaded and took leave of his
+father-in-law, and set out with his wife on his journey home.
+
+Meanwhile the poor friend had been unable to get through his task in
+the short time appointed by the king, and when at last he returned the
+king said to him,
+
+“Your comrade is a long way off by now; you had better see if you can
+overtake him.”
+
+So the young man bowed and left the king’s presence, and followed after
+his friend on foot, for he had no horse. Night and day he ran, till at
+length he reached the place where the king’s son had pitched his tent,
+and sank down before him, a miserable object, worn out and covered with
+mud and dust. But the king’s son welcomed him with joy, and tended him
+as he would his brother.
+
+And at last they came home again, and the queen was waiting and
+watching in the palace, as she had never ceased to do since her son had
+rode away. She almost died of joy at seeing him again, but after a
+little she remembered his sick friend, and ordered a bed to be made
+ready and the best doctors in all the country to be sent for. When they
+heard of the queen’s summons they flocked from all parts, but none
+could cure him. After everyone had tried and failed a servant entered
+and informed the queen that a strange old man had just knocked at the
+palace gate and declared that he was able to heal the dying youth. Now
+this was a holy man, who had heard of the trouble the king’s son was
+in, and had come to help.
+
+It happened that at this very time a little daughter was born to the
+king’s son, but in his distress for his friend he had hardly a thought
+to spare for the baby. He could not be prevailed on to leave the sick
+bed, and he was bending over it when the holy man entered the room. “Do
+you wish your friend to be cured?” asked the new comer of the king’s
+son. “And what price would you pay?”
+
+“What price?” answered the king’s son; “only tell me what I can do to
+heal him.”
+
+“Listen to me, then,” said the old man. “This evening you must take
+your child, and open her veins, and smear the wounds of your friend
+with her blood. And you will see, he will get well in an instant.”
+
+At these words the king’s son shrieked with horror, for he loved the
+baby dearly, but he answered, “I have sworn that I would treat my
+friend as if he were my brother, and if there is no other way my child
+must be sacrificed.”
+
+As by this time evening had already fallen he took the child and opened
+its veins, and smeared the blood over the wounds of the sick man, and
+the look of death departed from him, and he grew strong and rosy once
+more. But the little child lay as white and still as if she had been
+dead. They laid her in the cradle and wept bitterly, for they thought
+that by the next morning she would be lost to them.
+
+At sunrise the old man returned and asked after the sick man.
+
+“He is as well as ever,” answered the king’s son.
+
+“And where is your baby?”
+
+“In the cradle yonder, and I think she is dead,” replied the father
+sadly.
+
+“Look at her once more,” said the holy man, and as they drew near the
+cradle there lay the baby smiling up at them.
+
+“I am St. James of Lizia,” said the old man, “and I have come to help
+you, for I have seen that you are a true friend. From henceforward live
+happily, all of you, together, and if troubles should draw near you
+send for me, and I will aid you to get through them.”
+
+With these words he lifted his hand in blessing and vanished.
+
+And they obeyed him, and were happy and content, and tried to make the
+people of the land happy and contented too.
+
+[From Sicilianische Mährchen Gonzenbach.]
+
+
+
+
+Clever Maria
+
+
+There was once a merchant who lived close to the royal palace, and had
+three daughters. They were all pretty, but Maria, the youngest, was the
+prettiest of the three. One day the king sent for the merchant, who was
+a widower, to give him directions about a journey he wished the good
+man to take. The merchant would rather not have gone, as he did not
+like leaving his daughters at home, but he could not refuse to obey the
+king’s commands, and with a heavy heart he returned home to say
+farewell to them. Before he left, he took three pots of basil, and gave
+one to each girl, saying, “I am going a journey, but I leave these
+pots. You must let nobody into the house. When I come back, they will
+tell me what has happened.” “Nothing will have happened,” said the
+girls.
+
+The father went away, and the following day the king, accompanied by
+two friends, paid a visit to the three girls, who were sitting at
+supper. When they saw who was there, Maria said, “Let us go and get a
+bottle of wine from the cellar. I will carry the key, my eldest sister
+can take the light, while the other brings the bottle.” But the king
+replied, “Oh, do not trouble; we are not thirsty.” “Very well, we will
+not go,” answered the two elder girls; but Maria merely said, “I shall
+go, anyhow.” She left the room, and went to the hall where she put out
+the light, and putting down the key and the bottle, ran to the house of
+a neighbour, and knocked at the door. “Who is there so late?” asked the
+old woman, thrusting her head out of the window.
+
+“Oh, let me in,” answered Maria. “I have quarrelled with my eldest
+sister, and as I do not want to fight any more, I have come to beg you
+to allow me to sleep with you.”
+
+So the old woman opened the door and Maria slept in her house. The king
+was very angry at her for playing truant, but when she returned home
+the next day, she found the plants of her sisters withered away,
+because they had disobeyed their father. Now the window in the room of
+the eldest overlooked the gardens of the king, and when she saw how
+fine and ripe the medlars were on the trees, she longed to eat some,
+and begged Maria to scramble down by a rope and pick her a few, and she
+would draw her up again. Maria, who was good-natured, swung herself
+into the garden by the rope, and got the medlars, and was just making
+the rope fast under her arms so as to be hauled up, when her sister
+cried: “Oh, there are such delicious lemons a little farther on. You
+might bring me one or two.” Maria turned round to pluck them, and found
+herself face to face with the gardener, who caught hold of her,
+exclaiming, “What are you doing here, you little thief?” “Don’t call me
+names,” she said, “or you will get the worst of it,” giving him as she
+spoke such a violent push that he fell panting into the lemon bushes.
+Then she seized the cord and clambered up to the window.
+
+The next day the second sister had a fancy for bananas and begged so
+hard, that, though Maria had declared she would never do such a thing
+again, at last she consented, and went down the rope into the king’s
+garden. This time she met the king, who said to her, “Ah, here you are
+again, cunning one! Now you shall pay for your misdeeds.”
+
+And he began to cross-question her about what she had done. Maria
+denied nothing, and when she had finished, the king said again, “Follow
+me to the house, and there you shall pay the penalty.” As he spoke, he
+started for the house, looking back from time to time to make sure that
+Maria had not run away. All of a sudden, when he glanced round, he
+found she had vanished completely, without leaving a trace of where she
+had gone. Search was made all through the town, and there was not a
+hole or corner which was not ransacked, but there was no sign of her
+anywhere. This so enraged the king that he became quite ill, and for
+many months his life was despaired of.
+
+Meanwhile the two elder sisters had married the two friends of the
+king, and were the mothers of little daughters. Now one day Maria stole
+secretly to the house where her elder sister lived, and snatching up
+the children put them into a beautiful basket she had with her, covered
+with flowers inside and out, so that no one would ever guess it held
+two babies. Then she dressed herself as a boy, and placing the basket
+on her head, she walked slowly past the palace, crying as she went:
+
+“Who will carry these flowers to the king, who lies sick of love?”
+
+And the king in his bed heard what she said, and ordered one of his
+attendants to go out and buy the basket. It was brought to his bedside,
+and as he raised the lid cries were heard, and peeping in he saw two
+little children. He was furious at this new trick which he felt had
+been played on him by Maria, and was still looking at them, wondering
+how he should pay her out, when he was told that the merchant, Maria’s
+father, had finished the business on which he had been sent and
+returned home. Then the king remembered how Maria had refused to
+receive his visit, and how she had stolen his fruit, and he determined
+to be revenged on her. So he sent a message by one of his pages that
+the merchant was to come to see him the next day, and bring with him a
+coat made of stone, or else he would be punished. Now the poor man had
+been very sad since he got home the evening before, for though his
+daughters had promised that nothing should happen while he was away, he
+had found the two elder ones married without asking his leave. And now
+there was this fresh misfortune, for how was he to make a coat of
+stone? He wrung his hands and declared that the king would be the ruin
+of him, when Maria suddenly entered. “Do not grieve about the coat of
+stone, dear father; but take this bit of chalk, and go to the palace
+and say you have come to measure the king.” The old man did not see the
+use of this, but Maria had so often helped him before that he had
+confidence in her, so he put the chalk in his pocket and went to the
+palace.
+
+“That is no good,” said the king, when the merchant had told him what
+he had come for.
+
+“Well, I can’t make the coat you want,” replied he.
+
+“Then if you would save your head, hand over to me your daughter
+Maria.”
+
+The merchant did not reply, but went sorrowfully back to his house,
+where Maria sat waiting for him.
+
+“Oh, my dear child, why was I born? The king says that, instead of the
+coat, I must deliver you up to him.”
+
+“Do not be unhappy, dear father, but get a doll made, exactly like me,
+with a string attached to its head, which I can pull for ‘Yes’ and
+‘No.’”
+
+So the old man went out at once to see about it.
+
+The king remained patiently in his palace, feeling sure that this time
+Maria could not escape him; and he said to his pages, “If a gentleman
+should come here with his daughter and ask to be allowed to speak with
+me, put the young lady in my room and see she does not leave it.”
+
+When the door was shut on Maria, who had concealed the doll under her
+cloak, she hid herself under the couch, keeping fast hold of the string
+which was fastened to its head.
+
+“Senhora Maria, I hope you are well,” said the king when he entered the
+room. The doll nodded. “Now we will reckon up accounts,” continued he,
+and he began at the beginning, and ended up with the flower-basket, and
+at each fresh misdeed Maria pulled the string, so that the doll’s head
+nodded assent. “Who-so mocks at me merits death,” declared the king
+when he had ended, and drawing his sword, cut off the doll’s head. It
+fell towards him, and as he felt the touch of a kiss, he exclaimed,
+“Ah, Maria, Maria, so sweet in death, so hard to me in life! The man
+who could kill you deserves to die!” And he was about to turn his sword
+on himself, when the true Maria sprung out from under the bed, and
+flung herself into his arms. And the next day they were married and
+lived happily for many years.
+
+[From the Portuguese.]
+
+
+
+
+The Magic Kettle
+
+
+Right in the middle of Japan, high up among the mountains, an old man
+lived in his little house. He was very proud of it, and never tired of
+admiring the whiteness of his straw mats, and the pretty papered walls,
+which in warm weather always slid back, so that the smell of the trees
+and flowers might come in.
+
+One day he was standing looking at the mountain opposite, when he heard
+a kind of rumbling noise in the room behind him. He turned round, and
+in the corner he beheld a rusty old iron kettle, which could not have
+seen the light of day for many years. How the kettle got there the old
+man did not know, but he took it up and looked it over carefully, and
+when he found that it was quite whole he cleaned the dust off it and
+carried it into his kitchen.
+
+“That was a piece of luck,” he said, smiling to himself; “a good kettle
+costs money, and it is as well to have a second one at hand in case of
+need; mine is getting worn out, and the water is already beginning to
+come through its bottom.”
+
+Then he took the other kettle off the fire, filled the new one with
+water, and put it in its place.
+
+No sooner was the water in the kettle getting warm than a strange thing
+happened, and the man, who was standing by, thought he must be
+dreaming. First the handle of the kettle gradually changed its shape
+and became a head, and the spout grew into a tail, while out of the
+body sprang four paws, and in a few minutes the man found himself
+watching, not a kettle, but a tanuki! The creature jumped off the fire,
+and bounded about the room like a kitten, running up the walls and over
+the ceiling, till the old man was in an agony lest his pretty room
+should be spoilt. He cried to a neighbour for help, and between them
+they managed to catch the tanuki, and shut him up safely in a wooden
+chest. Then, quite exhausted, they sat down on the mats, and consulted
+together what they should do with this troublesome beast. At length
+they decided to sell him, and bade a child who was passing send them a
+certain tradesman called Jimmu.
+
+When Jimmu arrived, the old man told him that he had something which he
+wished to get rid of, and lifted the lid of the wooden chest, where he
+had shut up the tanuki. But, to his surprise, no tanuki was there,
+nothing but the kettle he had found in the corner. It was certainly
+very odd, but the man remembered what had taken place on the fire, and
+did not want to keep the kettle any more, so after a little bargaining
+about the price, Jimmu went away carrying the kettle with him.
+
+Now Jimmu had not gone very far before he felt that the kettle was
+getting heavier and heavier, and by the time he reached home he was so
+tired that he was thankful to put it down in the corner of his room,
+and then forgot all about it. In the middle of the night, however, he
+was awakened by a loud noise in the corner where the kettle stood, and
+raised himself up in bed to see what it was. But nothing was there
+except the kettle, which seemed quiet enough. He thought that he must
+have been dreaming, and fell asleep again, only to be roused a second
+time by the same disturbance. He jumped up and went to the corner, and
+by the light of the lamp that he always kept burning he saw that the
+kettle had become a tanuki, which was running round after his tail.
+After he grew weary of that, he ran on the balcony, where he turned
+several somersaults, from pure gladness of heart. The tradesman was
+much troubled as to what to do with the animal, and it was only towards
+morning that he managed to get any sleep; but when he opened his eyes
+again there was no tanuki, only the old kettle he had left there the
+night before.
+
+As soon as he had tidied his house, Jimmu set off to tell his story to
+a friend next door. The man listened quietly, and did not appear so
+surprised as Jimmu expected, for he recollected having heard, in his
+youth, something about a wonder-working kettle. “Go and travel with it,
+and show it off,” said he, “and you will become a rich man; but be
+careful first to ask the tanuki’s leave, and also to perform some magic
+ceremonies to prevent him from running away at the sight of the
+people.”
+
+Jimmu thanked his friend for his counsel, which he followed exactly.
+The tanuki’s consent was obtained, a booth was built, and a notice was
+hung up outside it inviting the people to come and witness the most
+wonderful transformation that ever was seen.
+
+They came in crowds, and the kettle was passed from hand to hand, and
+they were allowed to examine it all over, and even to look inside. Then
+Jimmu took it back, and setting it on the platform, commanded it to
+become a tanuki. In an instant the handle began to change into a head,
+and the spout into a tail, while the four paws appeared at the sides.
+“Dance,” said Jimmu, and the tanuki did his steps, and moved first on
+one side and then on the other, till the people could not stand still
+any longer, and began to dance too. Gracefully he led the fan dance,
+and glided without a pause into the shadow dance and the umbrella
+dance, and it seemed as if he might go on dancing for ever. And so very
+likely he would, if Jimmu had not declared he had danced enough, and
+that the booth must now be closed.
+
+Day after day the booth was so full it was hardly possible to enter it,
+and what the neighbour foretold had come to pass, and Jimmu was a rich
+man. Yet he did not feel happy. He was an honest man, and he thought
+that he owed some of his wealth to the man from whom he had bought the
+kettle. So, one morning, he put a hundred gold pieces into it, and
+hanging the kettle once more on his arm, he returned to the seller of
+it. “I have no right to keep it any longer,” he added when he had ended
+his tale, “so I have brought it back to you, and inside you will find a
+hundred gold pieces as the price of its hire.”
+
+The man thanked Jimmu, and said that few people would have been as
+honest as he. And the kettle brought them both luck, and everything
+went well with them till they died, which they did when they were very
+old, respected by everyone.
+
+[Adapted from Japanische Mährchen]
+
+
+
+
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