{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_19461/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_19461","id":"gutenberg_19461","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/19461","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Children's Anthologies","Children's Literature","Fairy tales"],"text":"Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Sankar Viswanathan, and the\nOnline Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n     [Illustration: The three-headed monster belched forth flame]\n\n\n                 What Every Child Should Know LIBRARY\n\n\n\n                                TALES\n\n                              OF WONDER\n\n\n                       EVERY CHILD SHOULD KNOW\n\n\n\n\n                              Edited by\n\n                         KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN\n\n                       and NORA ARCHIBALD SMITH\n\n\n\n\n\n\n            Published by DOUBLEDAY, DORAN & CO., INC., for\n\n                     THE PARENTS' INSTITUTE, INC.\n\n                Publishers of \"THE PARENTS' MAGAZINE\"\n\n                   _52 Vanderbilt Avenue, New York_\n\n\n\n\n            COPYRIGHT, 1909, BY DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\n\n\nPUBLISHER'S NOTE\n\n\n_Doubleday, Page & Company wish to make acknowledgment of their\nindebtedness to the following publishers_:\n\n_G. P. Putnam's Sons, New York and London, for permission to use \"The\nFive Queer Brothers,\" \"The Two Melons\" and \"What the Birds Said,\" from\n\"Chinese Nights' Entertainment,\" by Adele M. Fielde; \"The Lac of\nRupees,\" from \"Indian Fairy Tales,\" by Joseph Jacobs; \"The\nSea-maiden,\" from \"Celtic Fairy Tales,\" by Joseph Jacobs; \"The Black\nHorse\" and \"The Farmer of Liddesdale,\" from \"More Celtic Fairy Tales,\"\nby Joseph Jacobs; and \"The Buried Moon,\" from \"More English Fairy\nTales,\" by Joseph Jacobs._\n\n_T. Y. Crowell & Company, New York, for permission to use \"The\nGrateful Crane\" from \"The Fire-fly's Lovers,\" by William Elliot\nGriffis._\n\n_Joseph McDonough, Albany, for permission to use \"Little Surya Bai,\"\n\"The Jackal, the Barber and the Brahmin,\" \"Truth's Triumph,\" \"The\nRaksha's Palace,\" and \"Panch-Phul Ranee,\" from \"Old Deccan Days,\" by\nM. Frere._\n\n_Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, for permission to use \"The\nDeserter,\" \"Steelpacha\" and \"The Watch-tower Between Earth and\nHeaven,\" from \"The Russian Grandmother's Wonder Tales,\" by L. S.\nHoughton._\n\n_Macmillan & Company, London, for permission to use \"The Grateful\nFoxes\" and \"The Badger's Money,\" from \"Tales of Old Japan,\" by A. B.\nMitford._\n\n_The Review of Reviews Company, London, for permission to use \"The\nFeast of Lanterns\" and \"The Lake of Gems,\" from \"Books for the\nBairns,\" edited by W. T. Stead._\n\n_We also wish to express our appreciation to Mr. Seumas MacManus for\nthe use of his stories, \"The Amadan of the Dough,\" \"Hookedy-Crookedy,\"\n\"Billy Beg and the Bull,\" and \"The Queen of the Golden Mines,\" from\n\"Donegal Fairy Stories,\" and \"In Chimney Corners,\" published by us._\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\nI WONDER (_Scandinavian_)\n\nWHAT THE BIRDS SAID (_Chinese_)\n\nTHE SMITH AND THE FAIRIES (_Gaelic_)\n\nTHE GRATEFUL CRANE (_Japanese_)\n\nLITTLE SURYA BAI (_Southern Indian_)\n\nTHE STORKS AND THE NIGHT OWL (_Persian_)\n\nTHE FIVE QUEER BROTHERS (_Chinese_)\n\nTHE LAC OF RUPEES (_Southern Indian_)\n\nTHE EMPEROR'S NIGHTINGALE. H. C. ANDERSEN\n\nHOOKEDY-CROOKEDY. SEUMAS MACMANUS (_Celtic_)\n\nARNDT'S NIGHT UNDERGROUND. D. M. MULOCK\n\nTHE UNICORN (_German_)\n\nDESTINY. E. LABOULAYE (_Dalmatian_)\n\nTHE QUEEN OF THE GOLDEN MINES. SEUMAS MACMANUS (_Celtic_)\n\nTHE DESERTER (_Russian_)\n\nTHE TWO MELONS (_Chinese_)\n\nTHE IRON CASKET (_Persian_)\n\nTHE KNIGHTS OF THE FISH. FERNAN CABALLERO (_Spanish_)\n\nDAPPLEGRIM (_Scandinavian_)\n\nTHE HERMIT. VOLTAIRE (_French_)\n\nTHE WATCH-TOWER BETWEEN EARTH AND HEAVEN (_Russian_)\n\nTHE LUCKY COIN. FRANCOSO (_Portuguese_)\n\nTHE JACKAL, THE BARBER AND THE BRAHMIN (_Southern Indian_)\n\nTHE BIRD OF TRUTH. CABALLERO (_Spanish_)\n\nTHE TWO GENIES. VOLTAIRE (_French_)\n\nSTEELPACHA (_Russian_)\n\nTHE BURIED MOON (_English_)\n\nTHE FARMER OF LIDDESDALE (_English_)\n\nTHE BADGER'S MONEY (_Japanese_)\n\nTHE GRATEFUL FOXES (_Japanese_)\n\nTHE BLACK HORSE (_Celtic_)\n\nTRUTH'S TRIUMPH (_Southern Indian_)\n\nTHE FEAST OF THE LANTERNS (_Chinese_)\n\nTHE LAKE OF GEMS (_Chinese_)\n\nTHE SEA-MAIDEN (_Celtic_)\n\nTHE ENCHANTED WATERFALL (_Japanese_)\n\nTHE AMADAN OF THE DOUGH. SEUMAS MACMANUS (_Celtic_)\n\nTHE RAKSHAS'S PALACE (_Southern Indian_)\n\nBILLY BEG AND THE BULL. SEUMAS MACMANUS (_Celtic_)\n\nTHE PRINCES FIRE-FLASH AND FIRE-FADE (_Japanese_)\n\nPANCH-PHUL RANEE (_Southern Indian_)\n\nSCHIPPEITARO (_Japanese_)\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\n\n\nI WONDER!\n\n\n    I wonder if in Samarcand\n    Grave camels kneel in golden sand,\n    Still lading bales of magic spells\n    And charms a lover's wisdom tells,\n    To fare across the desert main\n    And bring the Princess home again--\n            I wonder!\n\n    I wonder in Japan to-day\n    If grateful beasts find out the way\n    To those who succoured them in pain,\n    And bring their blessings back again;\n    If cranes and sparrows take the shape\n    And all the ways of mortals ape--\n            I wonder!\n\n    In Bagdad, may there still be found\n    That potent powder, finely ground,\n    Which changes all who on it feast,\n    Monarch or slave, to bird or beast?\n    Do Caliphs taste and unafraid,\n    Turn storks, and weeping night-owls aid?\n            I wonder!\n\n    I wonder if in far Cathay\n    The nightingale still trills her lay\n    Beside the Porcelain Palace door,\n    And courtiers praise her as before I\n    If emperors dream of bygone things\n    And musing, weep the while she sings--\n            I wonder!\n\n    Such things have never chanced to me.\n    I wonder if to eyes that see\n    These magic visions still appear\n    In daily living, now and here;\n    If every flower is touched with glory,\n    If e'en the grass-blades tell a story--\n            I wonder\n                                         N. A. S.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\n\n\n_INTRODUCTION_\n\n\nThere is a Chinese tale, known as \"The Singing Prisoner,\" in which a\nfriendless man is bound hand and foot and thrown into a dungeon, where\nhe lies on the cold stones unfed and untended.\n\nHe has no hope of freedom and as complaint will avail him nothing, he\nbegins to while away the hours by reciting poems and stories that he\nhad learned in youth. So happily does he vary the tones of the\nspeakers, feigning in turn the voices of kings and courtiers, lovers\nand princesses, birds and beasts, that he speedily draws all his\nfellow-prisoners around him, beguiling them by the spell of his\ngenius.\n\nThose who have food, eagerly press it upon him that his strength may\nbe replenished; the jailer, who has been drawn into the charmed\ncircle, loosens his bonds that he may move more freely, and finally\ngrants him better quarters that the stories may be heard to greater\nadvantage. Next the petty officers hear of the prisoner's marvellous\ngifts and report them everywhere with such effect that the higher\nauthorities at last become interested and grant him a pardon.\n\nTales like these, that draw children from play and old men from the\nchimney-corner; that gain the freedom of a Singing Prisoner, and\nenable a Scheherazade to postpone from night to night her hour of\ndeath, are one and all pervaded by the same eternal magic. Pain,\ngrief, terror, care, and bondage are all forgotten for a time when\nlakes of gems and enchanted waterfalls shimmer in the sunlight, when\nRakshas's palaces rise, full-built, before our very eyes, or when\nCaballero's Knights of the Fish prance away on their magic chargers.\n\"I wonder when!\" \"I wonder how!\" \"I wonder where!\" we say as we follow\nthem into the land of mystery. So Youngling said when he heard the\nsound of the mysterious axe in the forest and asked himself who could\nbe chopping there.\n\n\"I wonder!\" he cried again when he listened to the faerie spade\ndigging and delving at the top of the rocks.\n\n\"I wonder!\" he questioned a third time when he drank from the\nstreamlet and sought its source, finding it at last in the enchanted\nwalnut. Axe and spade and walnut each gladly welcomed him, you\nremember, saying, \"It's long I've been looking for you, my lad!\" for\nthe new world is always awaiting its Columbus.\n\nNo such divine curiosity as that of Youngling's stirred the dull minds\nof his elder brothers and to them came no such reward. They jeered at\nthe wanderer, reproaching him that he forever strayed from the beaten\npath, but when Youngling issues from the forest with the magic axe,\nthe marvellous spade, and the miraculous nut to conquer his little\nworld, we begin to ask ourselves which of the roads in the wood are\nindeed best worth following.\n\n\"Childish wonder is the first step in human wisdom,\" said the greatest\nof the world's showmen, but there are no wonders to the eyes that lack\nreal vision. In the story of \"What the Birds Said,\" for instance, the\nstolid jailer flatly denies that the feathered creatures have any\nmessage of import to convey; it is the poor captive who by sympathy\nand insight divines the meaning of their chatter and thus saves the\ncity and his own life.\n\nThe tales in this book are of many kinds of wonder; of black magic,\nwhite magic and gray; ranging from the recital of strange and\nsupernatural deeds and experiences to those that fore-shadow modern\nconquests of nature and those that utilize the marvellous to teach a\nmoral lesson. Choose among them as you will, for as the Spaniards\nmight say, \"The book is at your feet; whatever you admire is yours!\"\n\n\"Tales of Wonder\" is the fourth and last of our Fairy Series in the\nChildren's Classics, so this preface is in the nature of an epilogue.\n\"The Fairy Ring,\" \"Magic Casements,\" \"Tales of Laughter\"--each had its\nseparate message for its little public, and \"Tales of Wonder\" rings\ndown the curtain.\n\nThere was once a little brown nightingale that sang melodious strains\nin the river-thickets of the Emperor's garden, but when she was\ntransported to the Porcelain Palace the courtiers soon tired of her\nwild-wood notes and supplanted her with a wonderful bird-automaton,\nfashioned of gold and jewels.\n\nTime went on, but the Emperor, wisest of the court, began at last to\nlanguish, and to long unceasingly for the fresh, free note of the\nlittle brown nightingale. It was sweeter by far than the machine-made\ntrills and roulades of the artificial songster, and he felt\ninstinctively that only by its return could death be charmed away.\n\nThe old, yet ever new, tales in these four books are like the wild\nnotes of the nightingale in the river-thicket, and many are the\nemperors to whom they have sung.\n\nWhenever we tire of what is trivial and paltry in the machine-made\nfairy tale of to-day, let us open one of these crimson volumes and\nhear again the note of the little brown bird in the thicket.\n\nKATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\n\n\n_Tales of Wonder_\n\n_I Wonder_\n\n\nOnce on a time there was a man who had three sons--Peter, Paul, and\nthe least of all, whom they called Youngling. I can't say the man had\nanything more than these three sons, for he hadn't one penny to rub\nagainst another; and he told the lads, over and over again, that they\nmust go out into the world and try to earn their bread, for at home\nthere was nothing to be looked for but starving to death.\n\nNow near by the man's cottage was the King's palace, and, you must\nknow, just against the windows a great oak had sprung up, which was so\nstout and tall that it took away all the light. The King had said he\nwould give untold treasure to the man who could fell the oak, but no\none was man enough for that, for as soon as one chip of the oak's\ntrunk flew off, two grew in its stead.\n\nA well, too, the King desired, which was to hold water for the whole\nyear; for all his neighbours had wells, but he hadn't any, and that he\nthought a shame. So the King said he would give both money and goods\nto anyone who could dig him such a well as would hold water for a\nwhole year round, but no one could do it, for the palace lay high,\nhigh up on a hill, and they could only dig a few inches before they\ncame upon the living rock.\n\nBut, as the King had set his heart on having these two things done, he\nhad it given out far and wide, in all the churches of his dominion,\nthat he who could fell the big oak in the King's courtyard, and get\nhim a well that would hold water the whole year round, should have the\nPrincess and half the kingdom.\n\nWell! you may easily know there was many a man who came to try his\nluck; but all their hacking and hewing, all their digging and delving,\nwere of no avail. The oak grew taller and stouter at every stroke, and\nthe rock grew no softer.\n\nSo one day the three brothers thought they'd set off and try, too, and\ntheir father hadn't a word against it; for, even if they didn't get\nthe Princess and half the kingdom, it might happen that they would get\na place somewhere with a good master, and that was all he wanted. So\nwhen the brothers said they thought of going to the palace, their\nfather said \"Yes\" at once, and Peter, Paul, and Youngling went off\nfrom their home.\n\nThey had not gone far before they came to a fir-wood, and up along one\nside of it rose a steep hillside, and as they went they heard\nsomething hewing and hacking away up on the hill among the trees.\n\n\"I wonder now what it is that is hewing away up yonder?\" said\nYoungling.\n\n\"You are always so clever with your wonderings,\" said Peter and Paul,\nboth at once. \"What wonder is it, pray, that a wood-cutter should\nstand and hack up on a hillside?\"\n\n\"Still, I'd like to see what it is, after all,\" said Youngling, and up\nhe went.\n\n\"Oh, if you're such a child, 't will do you good to go and take a\nlesson,\" cried out his brothers after him.\n\nBut Youngling didn't care for what they said; he climbed the steep\nhillside toward where the noise came, and when he reached the place,\nwhat do you think he saw?\n\nWhy, an axe that stood there hacking and hewing, all of itself, at the\ntrunk of a fir.\n\n\"Good day,\" said Youngling. \"So you stand here all alone and hew, do\nyou?\"\n\n\"Yes, here I've stood and hewed and hacked a long, long time, waiting\nfor you, my lad,\" said the Axe.\n\n\"Well, here I am at last,\" said Youngling, as he took the Axe, pulled\nit off its haft, and stuffed both head and haft into his wallet.\n\nSo when he climbed down again to his brothers, they began to jeer and\nlaugh at him.\n\n\"And now, what funny thing was it you saw up yonder on the hillside?\"\nthey said.\n\n\"Oh, it was only an axe we heard,\" said Youngling.\n\nWhen they had gone a bit farther, they came under a steep spur of\nrock, and up above they heard something digging and shovelling.\n\n\"I wonder, now,\" said Youngling, \"what it is digging and shovelling up\nyonder at the top of the rock?\"\n\n\"Ah, you're always so clever with your wonderings,\" said Peter and\nPaul again; \"as if you'd never heard a woodpecker hacking and pecking\nat a hollow tree.\"\n\n\"Well, well,\" said Youngling, \"I think it would be a piece of fun just\nto see what it really is.\"\n\nAnd so off he set to climb the rock, while the others laughed and made\ngame of him. But he didn't care a bit for that; up he clambered, and\nwhen he got near the top, what do you think he saw? Why, a spade that\nstood there digging and delving.\n\n\"Good day,\" said Youngling. \"So you stand here all alone, and dig and\ndelve?\"\n\n\"Yes, that's what I do,\" said the Spade, \"and that's what I've done\nthis many a long day, waiting for you, my lad.\"\n\n\"Well, here I am,\" said Youngling again, as he took the Spade and\nknocked off its handle, and put it into his wallet; and then he\nclimbed down again to his brothers.\n\n\"Well, what was it, so strange and rare,\" said Peter and Paul, \"that\nyou saw up there at the top of the rock?\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said Youngling, \"nothing more than a spade; that was what we\nheard.\"\n\nSo they went on again a good bit, till they came to a brook. They were\nthirsty all three, after their long walk, and so they lay down beside\nthe brook to have a drink.\n\n\"I have a great fancy to see where this brook comes from,\" said\nYoungling.\n\nSo up alongside the brook he went, in spite of all that his brothers\nshouted after him. Nothing could stop him. On he went. And as he went\nup and up, the brook grew smaller and smaller, and at last, a little\nway farther on, what do you think he saw? Why, a great walnut, and out\nof that the water trickled.\n\n\"Good day,\" said Youngling again. \"So you lie here and trickle, and\nrun down all alone?\"\n\n\"Yes, I do,\" said the Walnut \"and here have I trickled and run this\nmany a long day, waiting for you, my lad.\"\n\n\"Well, here I am,\" said Youngling, as he took a lump of moss and\nplugged up the hole, so that the water mightn't run out. Then he put\nthe Walnut into his wallet, and ran down to his brothers.\n\n\"Well, now,\" said Peter and Paul, \"have you found out where the water\ncomes from? A rare sight it must have been!\"\n\n\"Oh, after all, it was only a hole it ran out of,\" said Youngling, and\nthe others laughed and made game of him again, but Youngling didn't\nmind that a bit.\n\nSo when they had gone a little farther, they came to the King's\npalace; but as every man in the kingdom had heard that he might win\nthe Princess and half the realm, if he could only fell the big oak and\ndig the King's well, so many had come to try their luck that the oak\nwas now twice as stout and big as it had been at first, for you will\nremember that two chips grew for every one they hewed out with their\naxes.\n\nSo the King had now laid it down as a punishment that if anyone tried\nand couldn't fell the oak, he should be put on a barren island, and\nboth his ears were to be clipped off. But the two brothers didn't let\nthemselves be frightened by this threat; they were quite sure they\ncould fell the oak, and Peter, as he was the eldest, was to try his\nhand first; but it went with him as with all the rest who had hewn at\nthe oak: for every chip he cut two grew in its place. So the King's\nmen seized him, and clipped off both his ears, and put him out on the\nisland.\n\nNow Paul was to try his luck, but he fared just the same! When he had\nhewn two or three strokes, they began to see the oak grow, and so the\nKing's men seized him, too, and clipped his ears, and put him out on\nthe island; and his ears they clipped closer, because they said he\nought to have taken a lesson from his brother.\n\nSo now Youngling was to try.\n\n\"If you want to look like a marked sheep, we're quite ready to clip\nyour ears at once, and then you'll save yourself some trouble,\" said\nthe King, for he was angry with him for his brothers' sake.\n\n\"Well, I'd just like to try first,\" said Youngling, and so he got\nleave. Then he took his Axe out of his wallet and fitted it to its\nhandle.\n\n\"Hew away!\" said he to his Axe, and away it hewed, making the chips\nfly again, so that it wasn't long before down came the oak.\n\nWhen that was done, Youngling pulled out his Spade and fitted it to\nits handle.\n\n\"Dig away!\" said he to his Spade, and so the Spade began to dig and\ndelve till the earth and rock flew out in splinters, and he soon had\nthe well deep enough, you may believe.\n\nAnd when he had got it as big and deep as he chose, Youngling took out\nhis Walnut and laid it in one corner of the well, and pulled the plug\nof moss out.\n\n\"Trickle and run,\" said Youngling, and so the Nut trickled and ran\ntill the water gushed out of the hole in a stream, and in a short time\nthe well was brimful.\n\nSo as Youngling had felled the oak which shaded the King's palace, and\ndug a well in the palace-yard, he got the Princess and half the\nkingdom, as the King had said; but it was lucky for Peter and Paul\nthat they had lost their ears, else they might have grown tired of\nhearing how everyone said each hour of the day:\n\n\"Well, after all, Youngling wasn't so much out of his mind when he\ntook to wondering.\"\n\n\n\n\n_What the Birds Said_\n\n\nA lad named Kong Hia Chiang, who lived with his parents among the\nmountains, understood the language of the birds. One twilight, as he\nsat at his books, a flock of birds alighted on a tree before his\nwindow and sang:\n\n    \"Kong Hia Chiang, on the southern plain\n      A sheep awaits you by a heap of stones,--\n    A fine fat wether, that the dogs have slain;\n      You eat the flesh and we will pick the bones!\"\n\nKong Hia Chiang went and brought in the torn sheep and cooked it\nduring the night. The next morning a shepherd came and said that one\nof his sheep was missing; he had found blood on the meadow, had\nfollowed the trail, and it had brought him to that house. Kong Hia\nChiang acknowledged that he had brought in the sheep, but declared\nthat the dogs had killed it, and that its death and the place where it\nmight be found had been made known to him by birds. His story was\nconsidered to be an impudent fabrication, and he was haled away to\nprison.\n\nWhile he was awaiting his trial before the magistrate, a bird, flying\neastward, perched on the wall, saw him, and piped:\n\n    \"Foes approach the western border,\n    Banners, bows, and spears in order,\n    While the gate lacks watch or warder.\"\n\nKong Hia Chiang thereupon so vehemently besought his jailer to inform\nthe magistrate of the imminent danger of invasion through the\nunprotected Western Pass, that the jailer, though wholly incredulous,\ndecided to test his power of comprehending the utterances of birds. He\ntook some rice, soaked a part of it in sweetened water, and a part in\nbrine, and then spread the whole on the roof of a shed into which he\nbrought Kong Hia Chiang, and asked him if he knew why so many birds\nwere chirruping overhead. Kong Hia Chiang at once replied that those\non the roof were hailing those that were flying past, and saying:\n\n    \"Call a halt; call a halt;\n      Here is rice fresh and white;\n    Half is sweet, half is salt;\n      Stop a bit; take a bite.\"\n\nThe jailer was at once convinced that the prisoner understood the\nspeech of birds, and therefore hastened to the magistrate to report\nthe warning and the test. The magistrate sent a swift courier to\nnotify the military officers, and a scout was sent out to the west. He\nsoon confirmed the message of Kong Hia Chiang, and troops were\ndispatched to strengthen the garrison at the pass, the invaders\nthereby being successfully repelled. The great service rendered to the\ncountry by Kong Hia Chiang was acknowledged by his sovereign, who\nafterward made use of his remarkable talent, invited him to study with\nthe princes, and eventually raised him to a high rank among the nobles\nof the empire.\n\n\n\n\n_The Smith and the Fairies_\n\n\nYears ago there lived in Crossbrig a smith of the name of MacEachern.\nThis man had an only child, a boy of about thirteen or fourteen years\nof age, cheerful, strong, and healthy. All of a sudden he fell ill;\ntook to his bed and moped whole days away. No one could tell what was\nthe matter with him, and the boy himself could not, or would not, tell\nhow he felt. He was wasting away fast; getting thin, old, and yellow;\nand his father and all his friends were afraid that he would die.\n\nAt last one day, after the boy had been lying in this condition for a\nlong time, getting neither better nor worse, always confined to bed,\nbut with an extraordinary appetite--one day, while sadly revolving\nthese things, and standing idly at his forge, with no heart to work,\nthe smith was agreeably surprised to see an old man, well known for\nhis sagacity and knowledge of out-of-the-way things, walk into his\nworkshop. Forthwith he told him the occurrence which had clouded his\nlife.\n\nThe old man looked grave as he listened; and after sitting a long time\npondering over all he had heard, gave his opinion thus: \"It is not\nyour son you have got. The boy has been carried away by the '_Daione\nSith_,' and they have left a _Sibhreach_ in his place.\"\n\n\"Alas! and what then am I to do?\" said the smith. \"How am I ever to\nsee my own son again?\"\n\n\"I will tell you how,\" answered the old man. \"But, first, to make sure\nthat it is not your own son you have got, take as many empty\negg-shells as you can get, go into his room, spread them out carefully\nbefore his sight, then proceed to draw water with them, carrying them\ntwo and two in your hands as if they were a great weight, and arrange\nthem when full, with every sort of earnestness around the fire.\"\n\nThe smith accordingly gathered as many broken egg-shells as he could\nget, went into the room, and proceeded to carry out all his\ninstructions.\n\nHe had not been long at work before there arose from the bed a shout\nof laughter, and the voice of the seeming sick boy exclaimed, \"I am\neight hundred years of age, and I have never seen the like of that\nbefore.\" The smith returned and told the old man.\n\n\"Well, now,\" said the sage to him, \"did I not tell you that it was not\nyour son you had: your son is in Borracheill in a digh there (that is,\na round green hill frequented by fairies). Get rid as soon as possible\nof this intruder, and I think I may promise you your son. You must\nlight a very large and bright fire before the bed on which this\nstranger is lying. He will ask you, 'What is the use of such a fire as\nthat?' Answer him at once, 'You will see that presently!' and then\nseize him, and throw him into the middle of it. If it is your own son\nyou have got, he will call out to you to save him; but if not, the\nthing will fly through the roof.\"\n\nThe smith again followed the old man's advice: kindled a large fire,\nanswered the question put to him as he had been directed to do, and\nseizing the child flung him in without hesitation. The _Sibhreach_\ngave an awful yell, and sprang through the roof, where a hole had been\nleft to let the smoke out.\n\nOn a certain night the old man told him the green round hill, where\nthe fairies kept the boy, would be open, and on that date the smith,\nhaving provided himself with a Bible, a dirk, and a crowing cock, was\nto proceed to the hill. He would hear singing and dancing, and much\nmerriment going on, he had been told, but he was to advance boldly;\nthe Bible he carried would be a certain safeguard to him against any\ndanger from the fairies. On entering the hill he was to stick the dirk\nin the threshold, to prevent the hill from closing upon him; \"and\nthen,\" continued the old man, \"on entering you will see a spacious\napartment before you, beautifully clean, and there, standing far\nwithin, working at a forge, you will also see your own son. When you\nare questioned, say you come to seek him, and will not go without\nhim.\"\n\nNot long after this, the time came round, and the smith sallied forth,\nprepared as instructed. Sure enough as he approached the hill, there\nwas a light where light was seldom seen before. Soon after, a sound of\npiping, dancing, and joyous merriment reached the anxious father on\nthe night wind.\n\nOvercoming every impulse to fear, the smith approached the threshold\nsteadily, stuck the dirk into it as directed, and entered. Protected\nby the Bible he carried on his breast, the fairies could not touch\nhim; but they asked him, with a good deal of displeasure, what he\nwanted there. He answered, \"I want my son, whom I see down there, and\nI will not go without him.\"\n\nUpon hearing this the whole company before him gave a loud laugh,\nwhich wakened up the cock he carried dozing in his arms, who at once\nleaped up on his shoulders, clapped his wings lustily, and crowed loud\nand long.\n\nThe fairies, incensed, seized the smith and his son, and throwing them\nout of the hill, flung the dirk after them, and in an instant all was\ndark.\n\nFor a year and a day the boy never did a turn of work, and hardly ever\nspoke a word; but at last one day, sitting by his father and watching\nhim finishing a sword he was making for some chief, and which he was\nvery particular about, he suddenly exclaimed, \"That is not the way to\ndo it;\" and taking the tools from his father's hands he set to work\nhimself in his place, and soon fashioned a sword, the like of which\nwas never seen in the country before.\n\nFrom that day the young man wrought constantly with his father, and\nbecame the inventor of a peculiarly fine and well-tempered weapon, the\nmaking of which kept the two smiths, father and son, in constant\nemployment, spread their fame far and wide, and gave them the means in\nabundance, as they before had the disposition, to live content with\nall the world and very happily with each other.\n\n\n\n\n_The Grateful Crane_[1]\n\n\n\"Fighting sparrows fear not man,\" as the old proverb says. Yet it was\nnot a sparrow but a crane that fell down out of the air. Near the feet\nof Musai, the farmer's boy, it lay, as he waded in the ooze of his\nrice field, working from daybreak to sundown.\n\n[Footnote 1: From \"The Fire-fly's Lovers,\" by William Elliot Griffis,\ncopyright, 1008, by T. Y. Crowell & Co.]\n\nThe farmer's boy was used to cranes, for in the plough's furrow on the\ndry land these long-legged birds walked close behind, not the least\nafraid in the Mikado's dominions. For who would hurt the\nwhite-breasted creature, that every one called the Honourable Lord\nCrane? The graceful birds seemed to love to be near man, when he\nworked in the wet or paddy fields, where under four inches of water\nthe seeds were planted and the rice plants grew. So graceful in all\nits movements is the crane that many a dainty little maid who acts\npolitely hears herself spoken of as the \"bird that rises from the\nwater without muddying the stream.\"\n\nMusai hurried to the grassy bank at the edge of the paddy field as\nfast as he could wade through the liquid mud, to see what was the\nmatter with the crane. Throwing down his hoe, and looking in the\ngrass, he saw that an arrow was sticking in the crane's back, and that\nred drops of blood dappled its white plumage. Instead of seeming\nfrightened when the man came near, the bird bent down its neck, as if\nto submit to whatever the farmer's boy should do.\n\nGently Musai plucked out the arrow and helped the bird to rise,\npushing back the undergrowth so that its broad white pinions could\nhave free play. After a few feeble attempts to fly it spread its\nwings, rose up from the earth, and after circling several times round\nits benefactor as though to thank him, it flew off to the mountain.\n\nMusai went back to his work, hoping that in season his labor would\nyield a good crop. He had his widowed mother to support and must needs\ntoil every day. His one delight was to come home, weary after the long\nhours of labour in the muddy rice field, and have a hot bath. This his\nmother always had ready for him. Then, clean and with a fresh kimono,\nand a little rest before supper-time, he was ready for a quiet evening\nwith the neighbours.\n\nSo in routine the days passed by until autumn was near at hand. One\nday, returning before the sun was fully set, he found seated beside\nhis mother a lovely girl. In spite of his contemptible appearance\nafter a day's toil, working barelegged in the mire, she welcomed him\nwith the grace of a princess.\n\nNot thinking of returning the salute in his unwashed condition, he\ntook off his head-kerchief, drew in his breath, and bowing to his\nmother asked.\n\n\"Who is the honourable That Side, and how comes she into this\nmiserable hut?\"\n\n\"My son,\" replied his mother, \"though you are a man, you have as yet\nno wife. Your virtues of obedience, filial reverence, fidelity, and\npoliteness have made you well known. Hence this fair damsel is not\nunwilling to become your wife. But, without your consent, I could not\nanswer her proposal. What do you think about it?\"\n\nThe young farmer, though highly complimented, at first said little,\nbut he thought hard. \"Daintily reared, and perhaps of noble birth is\nshe, but should I gratify her desire, how can she bear the poverty to\nwhich we are accustomed? Will she be patient, when she has to suffer\nhunger? Or, shall we be separated, and that which promises love and\nhappiness last only a little while, to pass away, leaving gloom and\nsorrow behind?\"\n\nBut as the days slipped along, and when he saw how kind she was to her\nnew mother, ever patient and self-denying in loving reverence, all his\nfears were driven away like clouds before the wind. So the young man\nand woman were married.\n\nBut when the full autumn-time came for the rice ears to fill and round\nout, nothing was found but husk and shell. The crop was a total\nfailure. With heavy taxes unpaid and no food in the house, starvation\nloomed before them. By winter, all were in dire distress.\n\nThen the patient wife revealed new powers and cheered her husband,\nsaying,\n\n\"I can spin such cloth as was never made in this province, if you will\nbuild me a separate room. I cannot weave here, or make the fine\npattern of red and white except when alone and in perfect silence.\nBuild me a room, and the money you need will flow in.\"\n\nThe old mother was doubtful as to her daughter-in-law's project and\neven Musai was but half-hearted. Yet he went to work diligently. With\nbeam, and wattle, and thatch, floor of mats and window of latticed\npaper, with walls made tight because well daubed with clay, he built\nthe room apart. There alone, day by day, secluded from all, the sweet\nwife toiled unseen. The mother and husband patiently waited, until\nafter a week, the little woman rejoined the family circle. In her\nhands she bore a roll of woven stuff, white and shining, as lustrous\nand pure as fresh fallen snow. Yet here and there, a crimson thread in\nthe stuff did but intensify the purity of the otherwise unflecked\nwhiteness. Pure red and pure white were the only colours of this\nwonderful fabric.\n\n\"What shall we call it?\" inquired the amazed husband.\n\n\"It has no name, for there is none other in the world like it,\" said\nthe fair weaver.\n\n\"But I must have a name. I shall take it to the Daimio. He will not\nbuy, if he does not know how it is called.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said the wife, \"tell him its name is 'White Crane's-down\ncloth.'\"\n\nQuickly passed the snowy fabric into the hands of the lord of the\ncastle, who sent it as a present to the Empress in Kioto. All were\namazed by it, and the Empress commanded the donor to be richly\nrewarded. The farmer husband, bearing a thousand pieces of coin in his\nbag, hastened home to spread the shining silver at his mother's feet\nand to thank the wife who had brought him fortune. A feast followed,\nand for many weeks the family lived easily on the money thus gained.\nThen, when again on the edge of need, Musai asked his wife if she were\nwilling to weave another web of the wonderful Crane's-down cloth.\n\nCheerfully she agreed, cautioning him to leave her in privacy, and not\nto look upon her until she came forth with the cloth.\n\nBut alas for the spirit of prying impertinence and wicked curiosity!\nNot satisfied with having been delivered from starvation by a wife\nthat served him like a slave, Musai stealthily crept up to the paper\npartition, touched his tongue to the latticed pane, and poked his\nfinger noiselessly through, thus making a round hole to which he glued\nhis eye and looked in.\n\nWhat a sight! There was no woman at work, but a noble white crane--the\nsame that he had seen in the field, and from whose back he had\nextracted the hunter's arrow. Bending over the spinning wheel, the\nbird pulled from her own breast the silky down, and by twining and\ntwisting made it into the finest thread which mortals ever beheld.\nFrom time to time, she pressed from her heart's blood red drops with\nwhich to dye some strands, and thus the weaving went on. The web of\nthe cloth was nearly finished.\n\nMusai astounded looked on without moving, until suddenly called by his\nmother, he cried out in response, \"Yes, I'm coming.\"\n\nThe startled crane turned and saw the eye in the wall. Throwing down\nthread and web she moved angrily to the door, gave a shrill scream and\nflew out under the sky. Like a white speck against the blue hills, she\nappeared for a little while and then was lost to sight.\n\nSon and mother once more faced poverty and loneliness, and Musai again\nsplashed barelegged in the rice field.\n\n\n\n\n_Little Surya Bai_\n\n\nA poor Milkwoman was once going into the town with cans full of milk\nto sell. She took with her her little daughter (a baby of about a year\nold), having no one in whose charge to leave her at home. Being tired,\nshe sat down by the roadside, placing the child and the cans full of\nmilk beside her; when, on a sudden, two large eagles flew overhead;\nand one, swooping down, seized the child, and flew away with her out\nof the mother's sight.\n\nVery far, far away the eagles carried the little baby, even beyond the\nborders of her native land, until they reached their home in a lofty\ntree. There the old eagles had built a great nest; it was made of iron\nand wood, and was as big as a little house; there was iron all round,\nand to get in and out you had to go through seven iron doors.\n\nIn this stronghold they placed the little baby, and because she was\nlike a young eaglet they called her Surya Bai (the Sun Lady). The\neagles both loved the child; and daily they flew into distant\ncountries to bring her rich and precious things--clothes that had been\nmade for princesses, precious jewels, wonderful playthings, all that\nwas most costly and rare.\n\nOne day, when Surya Bai was twelve years old, the old husband Eagle\nsaid to his wife, \"Wife, our daughter has no diamond ring on her\nlittle finger, such as princesses wear; let us go and fetch her one.\"\n\"Yes,\" said the other old Eagle; \"but to fetch it we must go very\nfar.\" \"True,\" rejoined he, \"such a ring is not to be got nearer than\nthe Red Sea, and that is a twelve-month's journey from here;\nnevertheless we will go.\" So the Eagles started off, leaving Surya Bai\nin the strong nest, with twelve months' provisions (that she might not\nbe hungry whilst they were away), and a little dog and cat to take\ncare of her.\n\nNot long after they were gone, one day the naughty little cat stole\nsome food from the store, for doing which Surya Bai punished her. The\ncat did not like being whipped, and she was still more annoyed at\nhaving been caught stealing; so, in revenge, she ran to the fireplace\n(they were obliged to keep a fire always burning in the Eagle's nest,\nas Surya never went down from the tree, and would not otherwise have\nbeen able to cook her dinner), and put out the fire. When the little\ngirl saw this she was much vexed, for the cat had eaten their last\ncooked provisions, and she did not know what they were to do for food.\nFor three whole days Surya Bai puzzled over the difficulty, and for\nthree whole days she and the dog and the cat had nothing to eat. At\nlast she thought she would climb to the edge of the nest, and see if\nshe could see any fire in the country below; and, if so, she would go\ndown and ask the people who lighted it to give her a little with which\nto cook her dinner. So she climbed to the edge of the nest. Then, very\nfar away on the horizon, she saw a thin curl of blue smoke. So she let\nherself down from the tree, and all day long she walked in the\ndirection whence the smoke came. Toward evening she reached the place,\nand found it rose from a small hut in which sat an old woman warming\nher hands over a fire. Now, though Surya Bai did not know it, she had\nreached the Rakshas's country, and this old woman was none other than\na wicked old Rakshas, who lived with her son in the little hut. The\nyoung Rakshas, however, had gone out for the day. When the old Rakshas\nsaw Surya Bai, she was much astonished, for the girl was beautiful as\nthe sun, and her rich dress resplendent with jewels; and she said to\nherself, \"How lovely this child is; what a dainty morsel she would be!\nOh, if my son were only here we would kill her, and boil her, and eat\nher. I will try and detain her till his return.\"\n\nThen, turning to Surya Bai, she said, \"Who are you, and what do you\nwant?\"\n\nSurya Bai answered, \"I am the daughter of the great Eagles, but they\nhave gone a far journey, to fetch me a diamond ring, and the fire has\ndied out in the nest. Give me, I pray you, a little from your\nhearth.\"\n\nThe Rakshas replied, \"You shall certainly have some, only first pound\nthis rice for me, for I am old, and have no daughter to help me.\"\n\nThen Surya Bai pounded the rice, but the young Rakshas had not\nreturned by the time she had finished; so the old Rakshas said to her,\n\"If you are kind, grind this corn for me, for it is hard work for my\nold hands.\"\n\nThen she ground the corn, but still the young Rakshas came not; and\nthe old Rakshas said to her, \"Sweep the house for me first, and then I\nwill give you the fire.\"\n\nSo Surya Bai swept the house; but still the young Rakshas did not\ncome.\n\nThen his mother said to Surya Bai, \"Why should you be in such a hurry\nto go home? Fetch me some water from the well, and then you shall have\nthe fire.\"\n\nAnd she fetched the water. When she had done so, Surya Bai said, \"I\nhave done all your bidding, now give me the fire, or I will go\nelsewhere and seek it.\"\n\nThe old Rakshas was grieved because her son had not returned home; but\nshe saw she could detain Surya Bai no longer, so she said, \"Take the\nfire and go in peace; take also some parched corn, and scatter it\nalong the road as you go, so as to make a pretty little pathway from\nour house to yours\"--and so saying, she gave Surya Bai several\nhandfuls of parched corn. The girl took them, fearing no evil, and as\nshe went she scattered the grains on the road. Then she climbed back\ninto the nest and shut the seven iron doors, and lighted the fire, and\ncooked the food, and gave the dog and the cat some dinner, and took\nsome herself, and went to sleep.\n\nNo sooner had Surya Bai left the Rakshas's hut, than the young Rakshas\nreturned, and his mother said to him, \"Alas, alas, my son, why did not\nyou come sooner? Such a sweet little lamb has been here, and now we\nhave lost her.\" Then she told him all about Surya Bai.\n\n\"Which way did she go?\" asked the young Rakshas; \"only tell me that,\nand I'll have her before morning.\"\n\nHis mother told him how she had given Surya Bai the parched corn to\nscatter on the road; and when he heard that, he followed up the track,\nand ran, and ran, and ran, till he came to the foot of the tree.\n\nThere, looking up, he saw the nest high in the branches above them.\n\nQuick as thought, up he climbed, and reached the great outer door; and\nhe shook it, and shook it, but he could not get in, for Surya Bai had\nbolted it. Then he said, \"Let me in, my child, let me in; I'm the\ngreat Eagle, and I have come from very far, and brought you many\nbeautiful jewels; and here is a splendid diamond ring to fit your\nlittle finger.\" But Surya Bai did not hear him--she was fast asleep.\n\nHe next tried to force open the door again, but it was too strong for\nhim. In his efforts, however, he had broken off one of his finger\nnails (now the nail of a Rakshas is most poisonous), which he left\nsticking in the crack of the door when he went away.\n\nNext morning Surya Bai opened all the doors, in order to look down on\nthe world below; but when she came to the seventh door a sharp thing,\nwhich was sticking in it, ran into her hand, and immediately she fell\ndown dead.\n\nAt that same moment the two poor Eagles returned from their long,\nwearisome journey, bringing a beautiful diamond ring, which they had\nfetched for their little favourite from the Red Sea.\n\nThere she lay on the threshold of the nest, beautiful as ever but cold\nand dead.\n\nThe Eagles could not bear the sight; so they placed the ring on her\nfinger, and then, with loud cries, flew off to return no more.\n\nBut a little while after there chanced to come by a great Rajah, who\nwas out on a hunting expedition. He came with hawks, and hounds, and\nattendants, and horses, and pitched his camp under the tree in which\nthe Eagles' nest was built. Then looking up, he saw, amongst the\ntopmost branches, what appeared like a queer little house; and he sent\nsome of his attendants to see what it was. They soon returned, and\ntold the Rajah that up in the tree was a curious thing like a cage,\nhaving seven iron doors, and that on the threshold of the first door\nlay a fair maiden, richly dressed; that she was dead, and that beside\nher stood a little dog and a little cat.\n\nAt this the Rajah commanded that they should be fetched down, and when\nhe saw Surya Bai he felt very sad to think that she was dead. And he\ntook her hand to feel if it were already stiff; but all her limbs were\nsupple, nor had she become cold, as the dead are cold; and, looking\nagain at her hand, the Rajah saw that a sharp thing, like a long\nthorn, had run into the tender palm, almost far enough to pierce\nthrough to the back of her hand.\n\nHe pulled it out, and no sooner had he done so than Surya Bai opened\nher eyes, and stood up, crying, \"Where am I? and who are you? Is it a\ndream, or true?\"\n\nThe Rajah answered, \"It is all true, beautiful lady. I am the Rajah of\na neighbouring land; pray tell me who are you.\"\n\nShe replied, \"I am the Eagles' child.\"\n\nBut he laughed. \"Nay,\" he said, \"that cannot be; you are some great\nPrincess.\"\n\n\"No,\" she answered, \"I am no royal lady; what I say is true. I have\nlived all my life in this tree. I am only the Eagles' child.\"\n\nThen the Rajah said, \"If you are not a Princess born, I will make you\none; say only you will be my Queen.\"\n\nSurya Bai consented, and the Rajah took her to his kingdom and made\nher his Queen. But Surya Bai was not his only wife, and the first\nRanee, his other wife, was both envious and jealous of her.\n\nThe Rajah gave Surya Bai many trustworthy attendants to guard her and\nbe with her; and one old woman loved Surya Bai more than all the rest,\nand used to say to her, \"Don't be too intimate with the first Ranee,\ndear lady, for she wishes you no good, and she has power to do you\nharm. Some day she may poison or otherwise injure you.\" But Surya Bai\nwould answer her, \"Nonsense! what is there to be alarmed about? Why\ncannot we both live happily together like two sisters?\" Then the old\nwoman would rejoin, \"Ah, dear lady, may you never live to rue your\nconfidence! I pray my fears may prove folly.\" So Surya Bai went often\nto see the first Ranee, and the first Ranee also came often to see\nher.\n\nOne day they were standing in the palace courtyard, near a tank, where\nthe Rajah's people used to bathe, and the first Ranee said to Surya\nBai, \"What pretty jewels you have, sister; let me try them on for a\nminute, and see how I look in them.\"\n\nThe old woman was standing beside Surya Bai, and she whispered to her,\n\"Do not lend her your jewels.\"\n\n\"Hush, you silly old woman,\" answered she. \"What harm will it do?\" and\nshe gave the Ranee her jewels.\n\nThen the Ranee said, \"How pretty all your things are! Do you not think\nthey look well even on me! Let us come down to the tank; it is as\nclear as glass, and we can see ourselves reflected in it, and how\nthese jewels will shine in the clear water!\"\n\nThe old woman, hearing this, was much alarmed, and begged Surya Bai\nnot to venture near the tank, but she said, \"I bid you be silent; I\nwill not distrust my sister.\" And she went down to the tank. Then,\nwhen no one was near, and they were both leaning over, looking at\ntheir reflections in the water, the first Ranee pushed Surya Bai into\nthe tank, who, sinking under the water, was drowned; and from the\nplace where her body fell there sprang up a bright golden sunflower.\n\nThe Rajah shortly afterward inquired where Surya Bai was, but nowhere\ncould she be found. Then, very angry, he came to the first Ranee and\nsaid, \"Tell me where the child is. You have made away with her.\"\n\nBut she answered, \"You do me wrong; I know nothing of her. Doubtless\nthat old woman whom you allowed to be always with her, has done her\nsome harm.\" So the Rajah ordered the poor old woman to be thrown into\nprison.\n\nHe tried to forget Surya Bai and all her pretty ways, but it was no\ngood. Wherever he went he saw her face. Whatever he heard, he still\nlistened for her voice. Every day he grew more miserable; he would not\neat or drink; and as for the other Ranee, he could not bear to speak\nto her. All his people said, \"He will surely die.\"\n\nWhen matters were in this state, the Rajah one day wandered to the\nedge of the tank, and bending over the parapet, looked into the water.\nThen he was surprised to see, growing out of the tank close beside him\na stately golden flower; and as he watched it, the sunflower gently\nbent its head and leaned down toward him. The Rajah's heart was\nsoftened, and he kissed its leaves and murmured, \"This flower reminds\nme of my lost wife. I love it, it is fair and gentle as she used to\nbe.\" And every day he would go down to the tank and sit and watch the\nflower. When the Ranee heard this, she ordered her servants to go and\ndig the sunflower up, and to take it far into the jungle and burn it.\nNext time the Rajah went to the tank he found his flower gone, and he\nwas much grieved, but none dared say who had done it.\n\nThen, in the jungle, from the place where the ashes of the sunflower\nhad been thrown, there sprang up a young mango tree, tall and\nstraight, that grew so quickly, and became such a beautiful tree, that\nit was the wonder of all the country round. At last, on its topmost\nbough, came one fair blossom; and the blossom fell, and the little\nmango grew rosier and rosier, and larger and larger, till so wonderful\nwas it both for size and shape that people flocked from far and near\nonly to look at it.\n\nBut none ventured to gather it, for it was to be kept for the Rajah\nhimself.\n\nNow one day, the poor Milkwoman, Surya Bai's mother, was returning\nhomeward after her day's work with the empty milk cans, and being very\ntired with her long walk to the bazaar, she lay down under the mango\ntree and fell asleep. Then, right into her largest milk can, fell the\nwonderful mango! When the poor woman awoke and saw what had happened,\nshe was dreadfully frightened, and thought to herself, \"If any one\nsees me with this wonderful fruit, that all the Rajah's people have\nbeen watching for so many, many weeks, they will never believe that I\ndid not steal it, and I shall be put in prison. Yet it is no good\nleaving it here; besides, it fell off of itself into my milk can. I\nwill therefore take it home as secretly as possible, and share it with\nmy children.\"\n\nSo the Milkwoman covered up the can in which the mango was, and took\nit quickly to her home, where she placed it in the corner of the room,\nand put over it a dozen other milk cans, piled one above another.\nThen, as soon as it was dark, she called her husband and eldest son\n(for she had six or seven children), and said to them, \"What good\nfortune do you think has befallen me to-day?\"\n\n\"We cannot guess,\" they said. \"Nothing less,\" she went on, \"than the\nwonderful, wonderful mango falling into one of my milk cans while I\nslept! I have brought it home with me; it is in that lowest can. Go,\nhusband, call all the children to have a slice; and you, my son, take\ndown that pile of cans and fetch me the mango.\" \"Mother,\" he said,\nwhen he got to the lowest can, \"you were joking, I suppose, when you\ntold us there was a mango here.\"\n\n\"No, not at all,\" she answered; \"there is a mango there. I put it\nthere myself an hour ago.\"\n\n\"Well, there's something quite different now,\" replied the son. \"Come\nand see.\"\n\nThe Milkwoman ran to the place, and there, in the lowest can, she saw,\nnot the mango, but a little tiny wee lady, richly dressed in red and\ngold, and no bigger than a mango! On her head shone a bright jewel\nlike a little sun.\n\n\"This is very odd,\" said the mother. \"I never heard of such a thing in\nmy life! But since she has been sent to us, I will take care of her,\nas if she were my own child.\"\n\nEvery day the little lady grew taller and taller, until she was the\nsize of an ordinary woman; she was gentle and lovable, but always sad\nand quiet, and she said her name was \"Surya Bai.\"\n\nThe children were all very curious to know her history, but the\nMilkwoman and her husband would not let her be teased to tell who she\nwas, and said to the children, \"Let us wait. By and by, when she knows\nus better, she will most likely tell us her story of her own accord.\"\n\nNow it came to pass that once, when Surya Bai was taking water from\nthe well for the old Milkwoman, the Rajah rode by, and as he saw her\nwalking along, he cried, \"That is my wife,\" and rode after her as\nfast as possible. Surya Bai hearing a great clatter of horses' hoofs,\nwas frightened, and ran home as fast as possible, and hid herself; and\nwhen the Rajah reached the place there was only the old Milkwoman to\nbe seen standing at the door of her hut.\n\nThen the Rajah said to her, \"Give her up, old woman, you have no right\nto keep her; she is mine, she is mine!\"\n\nBut the old woman answered, \"Are you mad? I don't know what you mean.\"\n\nThe Rajah replied, \"Do not attempt to deceive me. I saw my wife go in\nat your door; she must be in the house.\"\n\n\"Your wife?\" screamed the old woman--\"your wife? you mean my daughter,\nwho lately returned from the well! Do you think I am going to give my\nchild up at your command? You are Rajah in your palace, but I am Rajah\nin my own house; and I won't give up my little daughter for any\nbidding of yours. Be off with you, or I'll pull out your beard.\" And\nso saying, she seized a long stick and attacked the Rajah, calling out\nloudly to her husband and sons, who came running to her aid.\n\nThe Rajah, seeing matters were against him, and having outridden his\nattendants (and not being quite certain moreover whether he had seen\nSurya Bai, or whether she might not have been really the poor\nMilkwoman's daughter), rode off and returned to his palace.\n\nHowever, he determined to sift the matter. As a first step he went to\nsee Surya Bai's old attendant, who was still in prison. From her he\nlearned enough to make him believe she was not only entirely innocent\nof Surya Bai's death, but gravely to suspect the first Ranee of having\ncaused it. He therefore ordered the old woman to be set at liberty,\nstill keeping a watchful eye on her, and bade her prove her devotion\nto her long-lost mistress by going to the Milkwoman's house, and\nbringing him as much information as possible about the family, and\nmore particularly about the girl he had seen returning from the well.\n\nSo the attendant went to the Milkwoman's house, and made friends with\nher, and bought some milk, and afterward she stayed and talked to\nher.\n\nAfter a few days the Milkwoman ceased to be suspicious of her, and\nbecame quite cordial.\n\nSurya Bai's attendant then told how she had been the late Ranee's\nwaiting-woman, and how the Rajah had thrown her into prison on her\nmistress's death; in return for which intelligence the old Milkwoman\nimparted to her how the wonderful mango had tumbled into her can as\nshe slept under the tree, and how it had miraculously changed in the\ncourse of an hour into a beautiful little lady. \"I wonder why she\nshould have chosen my poor house to live in, instead of any one\nelse's,\" said the old woman.\n\nThen Surya Bai's attendant said, \"Have you ever asked her her history?\nPerhaps she would not mind telling it to you now.\"\n\nSo the Milkwoman called the girl, and as soon as the old attendant saw\nher, she knew it was none other than Surya Bai, and her heart jumped\nfor joy; but she remained silent, wondering much, for she knew her\nmistress had been drowned in the tank.\n\nThe old Milkwoman turned to Surya Bai and said, \"My child, you have\nlived long with us, and been a good daughter to me; but I have never\nasked you your history, because I thought it must be a sad one; but if\nyou do not fear to tell it to me now, I should like to hear it.\"\n\nSurya Bai answered, \"Mother, you speak true; my story is sad. I\nbelieve my real mother was a poor Milkwoman like you, and that she\ntook me with her one day when I was quite a little baby, as she was\ngoing to sell milk in the bazaar. But being tired with the long walk,\nshe sat down to rest, and placed me also on the ground, when suddenly\na great Eagle flew down and carried me away. But all the father and\nmother I ever knew were the two great Eagles.\"\n\n\"Ah, my child! my child!\" cried the Milkwoman, \"I was that poor woman;\nthe Eagles flew away with my eldest girl when she was only a year old.\nHave I found you after these many years?\"\n\nAnd she ran and called all her children, and her husband, to tell them\nthe wonderful news.\n\nAnd there was great rejoicing among them all.\n\nWhen they were a little calmer, her mother said to Surya Bai, \"Tell\nus, dear daughter, how your life has been spent since first we lost\nyou.\" And Surya Bai went on:\n\n\"The old Eagles took me away to their home, and there I lived happily\nmany years. They loved to bring me all the beautiful things they could\nfind, and at last one day they both went to fetch me a diamond ring\nfrom the Red Sea; but while they were gone the fire went out in the\nnest: so I went to an old woman's hut, and got her to give me some\nfire; and next day (I don't know how it was), as I was opening the\nouter door of the cage, a sharp thing, that was sticking in it, ran\ninto my hand and I fell down senseless.\n\n\"I don't know how long I lay there, but when I came to myself, I found\nthe Eagles must have come back, and thought me dead, and gone away,\nfor the diamond ring was on my little finger; a great many people were\nwatching over me, and amongst them was a Rajah, who asked me to go\nhome with him and be his wife, and he brought me to this place, and I\nwas his Ranee.\n\n\"But his other wife, the first Ranee, hated me (for she was jealous),\nand desired to kill me; and one day she accomplished her purpose by\npushing me into the tank, for I was young and foolish, and disregarded\nthe warnings of my faithful old attendant, who begged me not to go\nnear the place. Ah! if I had only listened to her words I might have\nbeen happy still.\"\n\nAt these words the old attendant, who had been sitting in the\nbackground, rushed forward and kissed Surya Bai's feet, crying; \"Ah,\nmy lady! my lady! have I found you at last!\" and, without staying to\nhear more, she ran back to the palace to tell the Rajah the glad news.\n\nThen Surya Bai told her parents how she had not wholly died in the\ntank, but become a sunflower; and how the first Ranee; seeing how fond\nthe Rajah was of the plant, had caused it to be thrown away; and then\nhow she had risen from the ashes of the sunflower, in the form of a\nmango tree; and how when the tree blossomed all her spirit went into\nthe little mango flower, and she ended by saying: \"And when the flower\nbecame fruit, I know not by what irresistible impulse I was induced\nto throw myself into your milk can. Mother--it was my destiny, and as\nsoon as you took me into your house, I began to recover my human\nform.\"\n\n\"Why, then,\" asked her brothers and sisters, \"why do you not tell the\nRajah that you are living, and that you are the Ranee Surya Bai?\"\n\n\"Alas,\" she answered, \"I could not do that. Who knows but that he may\nbe influenced by the first Ranee, and also desire my death. Let me\nrather be poor like you, but safe from danger.\"\n\nThen her mother cried, \"Oh, what a stupid woman I am! The Rajah one\nday came seeking you here, but I and your father and brothers drove\nhim away, for we did not know you were indeed the lost Ranee.\"\n\nAs she spoke these words a sound of horses' hoofs was heard in the\ndistance, and the Rajah himself appeared, having heard the good news\nof Surya Bai's return from her old attendant.\n\nIt is impossible to tell the joy of the Rajah at finding his long-lost\nwife, but it was not greater than Surya Bai's at being restored to her\nhusband.\n\nThen the Rajah turned to the old Milkwoman, and said \"Old woman, you\ndid not tell me true, for it was indeed my wife who was in your hut.\"\n\n\"Yes, Protector of the Poor,\" answered the old Milkwoman, \"but it was\nalso my daughter.\" Then they told him how Surya Bai was the\nMilkwoman's child.\n\nAt hearing this the Rajah commanded them all to return with him to the\npalace. He gave Surya Bai's father a village and, ennobled the family;\nand he said to Surya Bai's old attendant, \"For the good service you\nhave done you shall be palace housekeeper,\" and he gave her great\nriches; adding, \"I can never repay the debt I owe you, nor make you\nsufficient recompense for having caused you to be unjustly cast into\nprison.\" But she replied, \"Sire, even in your anger you were\ntemperate; if you had caused me to be put to death, as some would have\ndone, none of this good might have come upon you; it is yourself you\nhave to thank.\"\n\nThe wicked first Ranee was cast, for the rest of her life, into the\nprison in which the old attendant had been thrown; but Surya Bai lived\nhappily with her husband the rest of her days; and in memory of her\nadventures, he planted round their palace a hedge of sunflowers and a\ngrove of mango trees.\n\n\n\n\n_The Storks and the Night Owl_\n\n\nChasid, Caliph of Bagdad, which, by the way, is on the river Tigris,\nand was long, long ago the capital of the ancient Saracen Empire, was\ncomfortably seated upon his sofa one beautiful afternoon. He had slept\na little, for it was a very hot day, and he seemed cheerful after his\nnap.\n\nHe smoked from a long pipe made of rosewood; sipped now and then a\nlittle coffee, which a slave poured out for him, and stroked his beard\nvery contentedly. So it was very plain that the Caliph was in a good\nhumour. This was generally the case at this hour, as it was the custom\nof his Grand Vizier Manzor to visit him every day about this time. He\ncame this afternoon, but he seemed very thoughtful. The Caliph looked\nat him, and said: \"Grand Vizier, why is thy countenance so sad?\"\n\nThe Grand Vizier crossed his arms over his breast, bowed himself\nbefore his lord, and said: \"My lord, I am sad because in the court\nbelow there is a merchant who has such fine wares that I am troubled\nbecause I have so little money to spare to purchase them.\"\n\nThe Caliph, who had for a long time past desired to confer a favour\nupon his Grand Vizier, sent his black slave to bring up the merchant.\nThe slave soon returned with him. The merchant was a short stout man,\nwith a dark brown face, and in ragged attire. He carried a chest, in\nwhich he had various kinds of wares, pearls and rings, richly inlaid\npistols, goblets and combs. The Caliph and his Vizier looked at them,\nand the former purchased some beautiful pistols for himself and\nManzor. As the merchant was about to pack up his chest the Caliph saw\na small drawer, and asked what it contained. The merchant drew out the\ndrawer, and showed therein a box filled with blackish powder and a\npaper with strange writing upon it, which neither the Caliph nor\nManzor could read. \"I received these things from a merchant who found\nthem in the streets of Mecca,\" said he. \"I know not what they contain.\nThey are at your service for a trifling price, for I can do nothing\nwith them.\"\n\nThe Caliph, who was a great collector of old manuscripts for his\nlibrary, even if he could not read them, purchased box and writings,\nand dismissed the merchant. But it occurred to the Caliph that he\nwould like to know the meaning of the writing, and he asked the Vizier\nwhether he knew anyone who could read it.\n\n\"Most worthy lord and master,\" replied the Vizier, \"near the great\nMosque there dwells a man who understands all languages; he is called\n'Selim the Wise.' Send for him; perhaps he may be able to interpret\nthe writing.\"\n\nThe learned Selim was soon brought. \"Selim,\" said the Caliph, \"they\nsay thou art very learned; peep now into this writing, and see if thou\ncanst read it. If thou canst, thou shalt have a rich new garment; if\nthou canst not, thou shalt be beaten with five-and-twenty strokes upon\nthe soles of thy feet, for in that case thou art without the right to\nbe called 'Selim the Wise.'\"\n\nSelim bowed himself and said: \"Thy will be done, my lord.\" For a long\ntime he examined the writing, then suddenly exclaimed, \"This is Latin,\nmy lord.\"\n\n\"Say what it means,\" commanded the Caliph, \"if it be Latin.\"\n\nSelim commenced to translate the documents. \"Oh man, thou who findest\nthis, praise Allah for His great goodness to thee. Whoever snuffs of\nthe powder contained in this box, and says thereupon 'Mutabor,' will\nhave the power to change himself into any animal he may choose, and\nwill be able to understand the language of that animal and all others.\nShould he wish to return to his human form he must bow himself three\ntimes to the East, and in the direction of our holy Mecca, and repeat\nthe same word. But beware, when thou art transformed that thou\nlaughest not, otherwise the magic word will disappear completely from\nthy memory and thou wilt remain a beast.\"\n\nWhen Selim the Wise had read this, the Caliph was delighted beyond\nmeasure. He bound over the sage that he would disclose the secret to\nno one, presented him with the promised rich garment, and dismissed\nhim. But to his Grand Vizier he said: \"That I call a good purchase,\nManzor. I can scarcely restrain my delight until I am a beast. Early\nto-morrow morning come thou hither; we will go together into the\nfield, snuff a little out of the box, and then listen to what is said\nin the air, and in the water, in the wood, and in the field.\"\n\nOn the following morning the Caliph had scarcely breakfasted when the\nGrand Vizier appeared to accompany him upon his walk, as he had\ncommanded him. The Caliph placed the box with the magic powder in his\ngirdle, and, having directed his train to remain behind, he set out\nalone with his Grand Vizier. They went through the spacious gardens of\nthe Caliph, and looked around, but in vain, for some living thing,\nthat they might try their trick. The Vizier at length proposed that\nthey should go further on, to a pond where he had often seen many of\nthose beautiful creatures called Storks, which, by their grave\nappearance and their continual clacking, had always excited his\nattention.\n\nThe Caliph approved the proposal of the Vizier, and they went together\nto the pond. When they had arrived they saw a stork walking gravely up\nand down looking for frogs, and now and then clacking something to\nhimself. At the same time they saw also, far above in the air, another\nstork hovering over the pond.\n\n\"I am pretty sure,\" said the Grand Vizier, \"that these two long-legged\nfellows are carrying on a fine conversation with each other. What if\nwe should become storks?\"\n\n\"Well said!\" replied the Caliph. \"But first let us consider, once\nmore, how we are to become men again. True! three times must we bend\ntoward the East and in the direction of Mecca, and say 'Mutabor,' then\nI am Caliph again and thou Vizier. But we must take care whatever we\ndo, not to laugh, or we are lost.\"\n\nWhile the Caliph was thus speaking he saw the other stork hover over\ntheir heads and slowly descend toward the earth. He drew the box\nquickly from his girdle, took a good pinch, offered it to the Grand\nVizier, who also snuffed it, and both cried out \"Mutabor!\"\n\nAt once their legs began to shrivel up, and soon became thin and red.\nThe beautiful yellow slippers of the Caliph and of his companion were\nchanged into the strange-shaped feet of the stork; their arms were\nchanged to wings; their necks were lengthened out from their shoulders\nand became a yard long; their beards had disappeared, and their bodies\nwere covered with feathers which were soft, fine and graceful.\n\n\"You have a beautiful beak,\" said the Caliph after a long pause of\nastonishment. \"By the beard of the Prophet, I have never seen anything\nlike it in my life.\"\n\n\"I thank you most humbly,\" replied the Grand Vizier, while he made his\nobeisance. \"But if it were permitted I might say that your Highness\nlooks even more handsome as a stork than as a Caliph. But come, if it\nplease you, let us listen to our comrades yonder, and find out whether\nwe really understand the language of the storks.\"\n\nIn the meanwhile the other stork had reached the ground. He trimmed\nhis feet with his beak, put his feathers in order, and advanced to his\ncompanion. The two new storks hastened to get near them, and to their\ngreat surprise heard the following conversation:--\n\n\"Good morning, Lady Longlegs, already so early in the meadow.\"\n\n\"Thank you, dear Clatterbeak, I have had only a slight breakfast.\"\n\n\"Would you like, perhaps, a piece of a duck or the leg of a frog?\"\n\n\"Much obliged, but I have no appetite to-day. I have come into the\nmeadow for a very different purpose. I am to dance to-day before some\nguests of my father's, and I wish to practise here a little quietly by\nmyself.\"\n\nThe young stork immediately jumped about the field with singular\nmotions. The Caliph and Manzor looked on with wonder; but as she stood\nin a picturesque attitude upon one foot, and fluttered her wings\ngracefully, they could no longer contain themselves--an irresistible\nlaughter burst forth from their beaks, from which they could not\nrecover themselves for a long time. The Caliph first collected\nhimself. \"That was a joke now,\" he exclaimed, \"that is not to be\npurchased with gold. Pity that the foolish creatures have been\nfrightened away by our laughter, otherwise perhaps they might even\nhave sung!\"\n\nBut it now occurred to the Grand Vizier that laughter had been\nspecially forbidden them during their transformation. He told his\nanxiety to the Caliph. \"Dear me, dear me, it would indeed be a\nsorrowful joke if I must remain a stork. Pray bethink thyself of the\nmagic word. For the life of me I can't remember it.\"\n\n\"Three times must we bow to the East and to Mecca, and then say, 'Mu,\nmu, mu.'\"\n\nThey turned toward the East, and bowed and bowed, so that their beaks\nalmost touched the earth. But alas! alas! the magic word would not\ncome. However often the Caliph bowed himself and however anxiously the\nVizier called out \"Mu, mu,\" all recollection of it had vanished, and\nthe poor Caliph and Vizier remained storks.\n\nVery mournfully did the enchanted ones wander through the fields. They\nknew not what to do in their great distress. They could not rid\nthemselves of their storks' skin and feathers; they could not return\nto the city to make themselves known, for who would have believed a\nstork, if he had said he was the Caliph? And even if they should\nbelieve it, the inhabitants of Bagdad would not have a stork for their\nCaliph. Thus they wandered about for several days, and nourished\nthemselves with the fruits of the field, which they could not eat very\nconveniently on account of their long beaks. For ducks and frogs they\nhad no appetite; they were afraid that with such food they might\nfatally disorder their stomachs. It was their only pleasure in this\nsad condition that they could fly, and so they often flew upon the\nroofs of Bagdad to see what passed in the city.\n\nDuring the first days they observed great disorder and mourning in the\nstreets, but about the fourth day after their transformation, as they\nstood upon the Caliph's palace, they saw in the street a splendid\nprocession. Drums and fifes sounded; a man in a scarlet mantle,\nembroidered with gold, rode a richly caparisoned steed, surrounded by\na brilliant train of attendants.\n\nHalf Bagdad leaped to meet him, and all cried: \"Hail, Mirza, Lord of\nBagdad!\" The two storks upon the roof of the palace looked at each\nother, and the Caliph said: \"Canst thou now divine, Grand Vizier, why\nI am enchanted? This Mirza is the son of my deadly enemy, the mighty\nmagician Cachnur, who, in an evil hour, swore revenge upon me. But\nstill I will not give up hope. Come with me, thou true companion of my\nmisfortune! We will wander to the grave of the Prophet. Perhaps on\nthat holy spot this spell will vanish;\" and they at once soared from\nthe roof of the palace and flew toward Mecca.\n\nBut flying was no easy matter to them, for the two storks had as yet\nbut little practice. \"Oh, my lord,\" sighed the Grand Vizier, after a\nfew hours, \"with your permission I must stop, for I can bear it no\nlonger; you fly altogether too fast. Besides it is now evening, and we\nshould do well to seek a shelter for the night.\" Chasid at once\nyielded to the prayer of the Vizier, and, as they at this moment\nperceived a ruin in the valley below, they flew thither. The place in\nwhich they had taken refuge for the night seemed formerly to have been\na castle. Beautiful columns overtopped the ruins, and several\nchambers, which were still in a fair state of preservation, gave\nevidence of the former splendour of the building. Chasid and his\ncompanion wandered through the passages to find a dry spot for\nthemselves. Suddenly the stork Manzor stopped. \"My Lord and master,\"\nhe whispered softly, \"if it were not folly in a Grand Vizier, and\nstill more in a stork, to be afraid of spirits, I should feel much\nalarmed, for something near by us sighed and groaned very plainly.\"\n\nThe Caliph also stood still, and heard very distinctly a low weeping\nthat seemed rather to come from a human being than from an animal.\n\nFull of expectation, he was about to advance toward the place from\nwhence came the sounds of weeping and sighing, when the Vizier seized\nhim by the wing with his beak and begged him very earnestly not to\nplunge into new and unknown dangers But in vain! The Caliph, who bore\na brave heart under his stork's wing, tore himself loose, with the\nloss of some of his feathers, and hastened into a dark passage-way. He\nsoon arrived at a door which seemed to be partly open, and through\nwhich he overheard distinct sighs, with a slight moaning. In the\nruined chamber, which was but dimly lighted by a small grated window,\nhe saw a large night owl upon the floor. Big tears rolled from her\nlarge round eyes, and with a hoarse voice she sent forth her cries\nfrom her curved beak. As soon, however, as she saw the Caliph and\nVizier she gave a loud scream of joy. Gracefully she wiped the tears\nfrom her eyes with her brown-spotted wing, and to the great\nastonishment of both she exclaimed, in good plain Arabic, \"Welcome, ye\nstorks! Ye are a good sign of my rescue, for it has been told me that\nby a stork I shall attain to great happiness.\"\n\nWhen the Caliph had recovered from his astonishment he bowed with his\nlong neck, brought his thin feet into a handsome position, and said:\n\n\"Night owl, from thy words I think that thou art a companion in\nsuffering. But alas! the hope that thou wilt be rescued by us is vain.\nThou wilt see our helplessness when we have told thee our history.\"\n\nThe night owl begged him to relate it. The Caliph commenced, and\nrepeated what we already know.\n\nWhen the Caliph had told the owl his history she thanked him and said:\n\n\"Hear also my story, and you will see that I am not less unhappy than\nyou. My father is King of India; I, his only daughter, am called Lusa.\nThat magician Cachnur, who has enchanted you, has also plunged me into\nthis misery. He came one day to my father, and desired me for a wife\nto his son. But my father, who is a quick-tempered man, ordered him to\nbe pushed down the stairs. The bad man contrived to meet me under\nanother form; and once, when taking refreshments in my garden, he\nbrought me, in the person of a slave, a draught in a cup, which\nchanged me into this frightful shape. Powerless from fright, he\nbrought me hither and cried in my ear: 'Here shalt thou remain, hated\nand despised, even by the beasts, until thy death, or until someone,\nwith free will, shall desire thee for his wife, even in this horrible\nshape. In this way I revenge myself upon thee and thy proud father!'\n\n\"Since then many months have passed. Solitary and disconsolate, I\ndwell within these walls, scorned by the world, a horror even to the\nbeasts. Beautiful nature is locked up from me, for, like all owls, I\nam blind by day, and only when the moon pours her pale light over\nthese ruins does the veil fall from my eyes.\"\n\nThe owl stopped speaking and wiped the tears again from her eyes, for\nthe telling of her sorrows had drawn them forth anew.\n\nDuring the story of the Princess, the Caliph appeared deep in thought.\n\"If everything does not deceive me,\" he said, \"there is a secret\nconnection between our fates; but where can I find the key to this\nriddle?\"\n\nThe owl replied: \"Oh, my lord, I also have such a thought, for it was\nonce told me when I was a very little girl that a stork would one day\nbring me great happiness, and I may know perhaps how we may be\nrescued.\"\n\nThe Caliph was much astonished, and asked her in what way she meant.\n\n\"The magician who has made us both miserable,\" said she, \"comes once\nin every month to these ruins. Not far from this chamber is a hall.\nThere he is accustomed to feast with many of his companions. I have\noften listened there already. They tell one another their histories,\nand what they have been doing since last they met. Perhaps on the next\noccasion they may talk over your story, and let fall the magic word\nthat you have forgotten.\"\n\n\"Oh, dearest Princess,\" exclaimed the Caliph, \"tell me when does he\ncome and where is the hall?\"\n\nThe owl was silent for a moment and then spoke. \"Take it not\nungraciously, but only upon one condition can your wish be granted.\"\n\n\"Speak out! speak out!\" cried the Caliph. \"Command, and whatever it is\nI will obey?\"\n\n\"It is this: I also would gladly be free, and this can only happen if\none of you offer me his hand.\" The storks seemed somewhat confused at\nthis proposition, and the Caliph made a sign to his follower to\nwithdraw for a moment with him.\n\nThey talked together for a long time, the Caliph urging the Vizier to\nconsent; but he said it was not possible, as he was already an old\nman, \"whilst you, my lord and master, are but young in years.\" The\nCaliph at last saw that the Vizier would rather remain a stork than\naccept the owl, so he resolved to fulfil the condition himself. The\nowl was overjoyed, and she said they could not have come at a better\ntime, for the magicians would most likely meet that very night.\n\nShe then left the chamber in company with the storks, in order to lead\nthem to the hall. They walked for a long time through a dark\npassage-way, when at last a bright light shone upon them from an\nopening in a ruined wall. When they had arrived thither the owl\nadvised them to keep perfectly quiet. From the opening near where they\nstood they had a good view of the hall. It had many pillars, and the\nwhole apartment was richly decorated. In the middle was a round table\ncovered with rich food of various kinds; round the table were placed\nseats, upon which sat eight men. In one of these men the storks\nrecognized the merchant who had sold them the magic powder. The one\nwho sat next him desired him to relate his history and what had been\ndone during the last few days. He did so, and among the other things\nhe told the story of his visit to the Caliph and Grand Vizier of\nBagdad.\n\n\"What kind of a word hast thou given them,\" asked the other magician.\n\n\"A very hard Latin one; it is Mutabor.\"\n\nAs the storks heard this from their place of concealment they became\nalmost beside themselves for joy. They ran so quickly with their long\nlegs to the door of the ruin that the owl could scarcely follow them.\nThere, the Caliph addressed the owl with much emotion.\n\n\"Saviour of my life, and the life of my friend, as an eternal thanks\nfor what thou hast done for us, accept me as thy husband\"; then he\nturned himself toward the east and toward Mecca. Three times the\nstorks bent their long necks toward the sun, which, by this time, was\nrising above the distant hills: \"Mutabor!\" they exclaimed. In a\ntwinkling they were changed, and in the delight of newly restored\nlife, master and servant were laughing and weeping in each other's\narms. But who can describe their astonishment as they looked about\nthem?\n\nA beautiful maiden in a splendid dress stood before them. She held out\nher hand to the Caliph saying: \"Do you no longer recognize your night\nowl?\"\n\nYes, it was indeed that bird. The Caliph looked with wonder at her\nbeauty and grace, and said: \"It is my greatest happiness that I have\nbeen a stork.\"\n\nThe three now started to travel together for the city of Bagdad. The\nCaliph found in his clothes not only the box with the magic powder,\nbut also his purse of gold. By this means he purchased at the nearest\nvillage all that was necessary for their journey, so that they very\nsoon arrived at the gates of Bagdad. The arrival of the Caliph excited\nthe greatest wonder. They had supposed him dead, but the people were\noverjoyed to have their beloved lord again.\n\nTheir hatred was intense against the deceiver Mirza. They entered the\npalace and took the old magician and his son prisoners. The Caliph\ntook the old man to that same chamber in which the Princess had lived\nso long as an owl, and ordered him to be hung up there. But to the\nson, who did not understand the wicked arts of his father, he offered\nthe choice of either to die or take snuff.\n\nHe chose the latter when the Grand Vizier offered the box. A good\npinch, and the magic word of the Caliph changed him into a stork. The\nCaliph then directed that he should be put into a cage and placed in\nhis garden.\n\nLong and happily the Caliph Chasid lived with his wife, the Princess.\nHis happiest hours were when the Grand Vizier visited him in the\nafternoon. They never tired of talking about their storks' adventure,\nand when the Caliph was more than usually merry he would imitate the\nGrand Vizier, and show how he looked when he was a stork. He walked\ngravely up and down the chamber with slow and solemn steps, made a\nclacking noise, flapped his arms like wings, and showed how he, to no\npurpose, bowed himself to the east and called out: \"Mu--Mu--Mu.\" This\nwas always a great delight to the Princess and the children, which\nwere afterward born to her, until they also took delight in calling\nout to one another: \"Mu--Mu--Mu.\"\n\nSo for very many years happiness reigned in the palace, and not only\nin the palace, but throughout the city of Bagdad, the capital of the\nancient Saracen Empire.\n\n\n\n\n_The Five Queer Brothers_\n\n\nAn old woman had five grown-up sons that looked just alike. The eldest\ncould gulp up the ocean at a mouthful; the second was hard enough to\nnick steel; the third had extensible legs; the fourth was unaffected\nby fire; the fifth lived without breathing. They all concealed their\npeculiar traits, and their neighbours did not even guess that they\nwere queer.\n\nThe eldest supported the family by fishing, going alone to the sea,\nand bringing back loads of spoil. The neighbours often besought him to\nteach their sons how to fish, and he at last let all their boys go\nwith him, one day, to learn his art. On reaching the shore, he sucked\nthe sea into his mouth, and directed the boys to the dry bottom, to\ncollect the fish. When he was tired of holding the water, he beckoned\nto the boys to return, but they were playing amongst strange objects,\nand paid no heed to him. When he could contain the sea no longer, he\nhad to let it flow back into its former basin, and all the boys were\ndrowned.\n\nAs he went homeward, he passed the doors of the parents, who inquired\nhow many fish their sons had caught, and how long they would be in\ncoming back. He told them the facts, yet they would not excuse him,\nand they dragged him before the magistrate to account for the loss of\ntheir children. He defended himself by saying that he had not invited\nthe boys to go with him, and had consented to their going only when\nthe parents had repeatedly urged him; that, after the boys were on the\nocean-bed, he had done his utmost to induce them to come ashore; that\nhe had held the water as long as he could, and had then thrown it in\nthe sea-basin solely because nothing else would contain it.\nNotwithstanding this defence, the judge decided that, since he took\nthe boys away and did not bring them back, he was guilty of murder,\nand sentenced him to decapitation. He entreated leave to pay one visit\nto his aged mother before his execution, and this was granted. He went\nalone and told his brothers of his doom, and the second brother\nreturned in his stead to the judge, thanked him for having given him\npermission to perform a duty required by filial piety, and said he was\nthen ready to die. He knelt with bowed head, and the headsman brought\nthe knife down across the back of his neck, but the knife was nicked\nand the neck was left unscathed. A second knife, and a third of finer\nsteel, were brought and tried by headsmen who were accustomed to sever\nheads clean off at one stroke. Having spoiled their best blades\nwithout marring his neck, they took him back to prison and informed\nthe judge that the sentence could not be executed.\n\nThe judge then decreed that he should be dropped into the sea which\ncovered his victims. When he heard this decision, he said that he had\ntaken leave of his mother supposing that his head was to be cut off,\nand that, if he was to be drowned, he must go to her and make known\nhis fate, and get her blessing anew. Permission being given, he went\nand told his brothers what had happened, and the third brother took\nthe place of the second, and presented himself before the judge as the\ncriminal that was to be sunk in the sea. He was carried far from shore\nand thrown overboard, but he stretched his legs till his feet touched\nbottom and he stood with his head in the air. They hauled him aboard\nand took him farther from land, but still his extensible legs\nsupported him above the waters. Then they sailed to mid-ocean, and\ncast him into its greatest depths, but his legs still lengthened so\nthat he was not drowned. They brought him back to the judge, reported\nwhat had been done, and said that some other method of destroying him\nmust be followed.\n\nHe was then condemned to death by being boiled in oil; and while the\ncaldron was being heated, he begged and obtained leave to go and tell\nhis mother of his late survival, and, of the manner in which he was\nsoon to be taken off. His brothers having heard the latest judgment,\nthe fourth one went to bear the penalty of the law, and was lowered\ninto the kettle of boiling oil, where he disported himself as if in a\ntepid bath, and even asked the executioners to stir up the fire a\nlittle to increase the warmth. Finding that he could not be fried, he\nwas remanded to prison.\n\nThen the populace, the bereaved parents, and the magistrate joined in\neffort to invent a sure method of putting him to death. Water, fire\nand sword all having failed, they finally fixed upon smothering him in\na vast cream-cake. The whole country round made contributions of flour\nfor the tough pastry, sugar for the viscid filling, and bricks for a\nhuge oven; and it was made and baked on a plain outside the city\nwalls. Meanwhile the prisoner was allowed to go and bid his mother\nfarewell, and the fifth brother secretly became his substitute. When\nthe cake was done, a multitude of people, with oxen, horses, and\nropes, dragged it to the execution ground, and within it the culprit\nwas interred. As he was able to exist without air, he rested\npeacefully till the next midnight. Then he safely crawled forth, and\nreturned to his home, where he dwelt happily for many years with his\nremarkable brothers.\n\n\n\n\n_The Lac of Rupees_\n\n\nA poor blind Brahman and his wife were dependent on their son for\ntheir subsistence. Every day the young fellow used to go out and get\nwhat he could by begging. This continued for some time, till at last\nhe became quite tired of such a wretched life, and determined to go\nand try his luck in another country. He informed his wife of his\nintention, and ordered her to manage somehow or other for the old\npeople during the few months that he would be absent. He begged her to\nbe industrious, lest his parents should be angry and curse him.\n\nOne morning he started with some food in a bundle, and walked on day\nafter day, till he reached the chief city of the neighbouring country.\nHere he went and sat down by a merchant's shop and asked alms. The\nmerchant inquired whence he had come, why he had come, and what was\nhis caste; to which he replied that he was a Brahman, and was\nwandering hither and thither begging a livelihood for himself, his\nwife and parents. Moved with pity for the man, the merchant advised\nhim to visit the kind and generous king of that country, and offered\nto accompany him to the court. Now, at that time it happened that the\nking was seeking for a Brahman to look after a golden temple which he\nhad just had built. His Majesty was very glad, therefore, when he saw\nthe Brahman and heard that he was good and honest. He at once deputed\nhim to the charge of this temple, and ordered fifty kharwars of rice\nand one hundred rupees to be paid to him every year as wages.\n\nTwo months after this, the Brahman's wife, not having heard any news\nof her husband, left the house and went in quest of him. By a happy\nfate she arrived at the very place that he had reached, where she\nheard that every morning at the golden temple a golden rupee was given\nin the king's name to any beggar who chose to go for it. Accordingly,\non the following morning she went to the place and met her husband.\n\n\"Why have you come here?\" he asked. \"Why have you left my parents?\nCare you not whether they curse me and I die? Go back immediately, and\nawait my return.\"\n\n\"No, no,\" said the woman. \"I cannot go back to starve and see your old\nfather and mother die. There is not a grain of rice left in the\nhouse.\"\n\n\"O Bhagawant!\" exclaimed the Brahman. \"Here, take this,\" he continued,\nscribbling a few lines on some paper, and then handing it to her, \"and\ngive it to the king. You will see that he will give you a lac of\nrupees for it.\" Thus saying he dismissed her, and the woman left.\n\nOn this scrap of paper were written three pieces of advice--First, If\na person is travelling and reaches any strange place at night, let him\nbe careful where he puts up, and not close his eyes in sleep, lest he\nclose them in death. Secondly, If a man has a married sister, and\nvisits her in great pomp, she will receive him for the sake of what\nshe can obtain from him; but if he comes to her in poverty, she will\nfrown on him and disown him. Thirdly, If a man has to do any work, he\nmust do it himself, and do it with might and without fear.\n\nOn reaching her home the Brahmani told her parents of her meeting with\nher husband, and what a valuable piece of paper he had given her; but\nnot liking to go before the king herself, she sent one of her\nrelations. The king read the paper, and ordering the man to be\nflogged, dismissed him. The next morning the Brahmani took the paper,\nand while she was going along the road to the darbar reading it, the\nking's son met her, and asked what she was reading, whereupon she\nreplied that she held in her hands a paper containing certain bits of\nadvice, for which she wanted a lac of rupees. The prince asked her to\nshow it to him, and when he had read it gave her a parwana for the\namount, and rode on. The poor Brahmani was very thankful. That day she\nlaid in a great store of provisions, sufficient to last them all for a\nlong time.\n\nIn the evening the prince related to his father the meeting with the\nwoman, and the purchase of the piece of paper. He thought his father\nwould applaud the act. But it was not so. The king was more angry than\nbefore, and banished his son from the country.\n\nSo the prince bade adieu to his mother and relations and friends, and\nrode off on his horse, whither he did not know. At nightfall he\narrived at some place, where a man met him, and invited him to lodge\nat his house. The prince accepted the invitation, and was treated like\na prince. Matting was spread for him to squat on, and the best\nprovisions set before him.\n\n\"Ah!\" thought he, as he lay down to rest, \"here is a case for the\nfirst piece of advice that the Brahmani gave me. I will not sleep\nto-night.\"\n\nIt was well that he thus resolved, for in the middle of the night the\nman rose up, and taking a sword in his hand, rushed to the prince with\nthe intention of killing him. But the prince arose and spoke.\n\n\"Do not slay me,\" he said. \"What profit would you get from my death?\nIf you killed me you would be sorry afterward like that man who killed\nhis dog.\"\n\n\"What man? What dog?\" he asked.\n\n\"I will tell you,\" said the prince, \"if you will give me that sword.\"\n\nSo he gave him the sword, and the prince began his story:\n\n\"Once upon a time there lived a wealthy merchant who had a pet dog. He\nwas suddenly reduced to poverty, and had to part with his dog. He got\na loan of five thousand rupees from a brother merchant, leaving the\ndog as a pledge, and with the money began business again. Not long\nafter this the other merchant's shop was broken into by thieves and\ncompletely sacked. There was hardly ten rupees' worth left in the\nplace. The faithful dog, however, knew what was going on, and went and\nfollowed the thieves, and saw where they deposited the things, and\nthen returned.\n\n\"In the morning there was great weeping and lamentation in the\nmerchant's house when it was known what had happened. The merchant\nhimself nearly went mad. Meanwhile the dog kept on running to the\ndoor, and pulling at his master's shirt and pajamas, as though wishing\nhim to go outside. At last a friend suggested that, perhaps, the dog\nknew something of the whereabouts of the things, and advised the\nmerchant to follow its leadings. The merchant consented, and went\nafter the dog right up to the very place where the thieves had hidden\nthe goods. Here the animal scraped and barked, and showed in various\nways that the things were underneath. So the merchant and his friends\ndug about the place, and soon came upon all the stolen property.\nNothing was missing. There were all the articles just as the thieves\nhad taken them.\n\n\"The merchant was very glad. On returning to his house, he at once\nsent the dog back to its old master with a letter rolled under the\ncollar, wherein he had written about the sagacity of the beast, and\nbegged his friend to forget the loan and to accept another five\nthousand rupees as a present. When this merchant saw his dog coming\nback again, he thought, 'Alas! my friend is wanting the money. How can\nI pay him? I have not had sufficient time to recover myself from my\nrecent losses. I will slay the dog ere he reaches the threshold, and\nsay that another must have slain it. Thus there will be an end of my\ndebt. No dog, no loan.' Accordingly he ran out and killed the poor\ndog, when the letter fell out of its collar. The merchant picked it up\nand read it. How great was his grief and disappointment when he knew\nthe facts of the case!\n\n\"Beware,\" continued the prince, \"lest you do that which afterward you\nwould give your life not to have done.\"\n\nBy the time the prince had concluded this story it was nearly morning,\nand he went away, after rewarding the man.\n\nThe prince then visited the country belonging to his brother-in-law.\nHe disguised himself as a jogi, and sitting down by a tree near the\npalace, pretended to be absorbed in worship. News of the man and of\nhis wonderful piety reached the ears of the king. He felt interested\nin him, as his wife was very ill; and he had sought for hakims to cure\nher, but in vain. He thought that, perhaps, this holy man could do\nsomething for her. So he sent to him. But the jogi refused to tread\nthe halls of a king, saying that his dwelling was the open air, and\nthat if his Majesty wished to see him he must come himself and bring\nhis wife to the place. Then the king took his wife and brought her to\nthe jogi. The holy man bade her prostrate herself before him, and when\nshe had remained in this position for about three hours, he told her\nto rise and go, for she was cured.\n\nIn the evening there was great consternation in the palace, because\nthe queen had lost her pearl rosary, and nobody knew anything about\nit. At length some one went to the jogi, and found it on the ground by\nthe place where the queen had prostrated herself. When the king heard\nthis he was very angry and ordered the jogi to be executed. This stern\norder, however, was not carried out, as the prince bribed the men and\nescaped from the country. But he knew that the second bit of advice\nwas true.\n\nClad in his own clothes, the prince was walking along one day when he\nsaw a potter crying and laughing, alternately, with his wife and\nchildren. \"O fool,\" said he, \"what is the matter? If you laugh, why do\nyou weep? If you weep, why do you laugh?\"\n\n\"Do not bother me,\" said the potter. \"What does it matter to you?\"\n\n\"Pardon me,\" said the prince, \"but I should like to know the reason.\"\n\n\"The reason is this, then,\" said the potter. \"The king of this country\nhas a daughter whom he is obliged to marry every day, because all her\nhusbands die the first night of their stay with her. Nearly all the\nyoung men of the place have thus perished, and our son will be called\non soon. We laugh at the absurdity of the thing--a potter's son\nmarrying a princess, and we cry at the terrible consequence of the\nmarriage. What can we do?\"\n\n\"Truly a matter for laughing and weeping. But weep no more,\" said the\nprince. \"I will exchange places with your son, and will be married to\nthe princess instead of him. Only give me suitable garments, and\nprepare me for the occasion.\"\n\nSo the potter gave him beautiful raiment and ornaments, and the prince\nwent to the palace. At night he was conducted to the apartment of the\nprincess. \"Dread hour!\" thought he; \"am I to die like the scores of\nyoung men before me?\" He clenched his sword with firm grip, and lay\ndown on his bed, intending to keep awake all the night and see what\nwould happen. In the middle of the night he saw two Shahmars come out\nfrom the nostrils of the princess. They stole over toward him,\nintending to kill him, like the others who had been before him; but he\nwas ready for them. He laid hold of his sword, and when the snakes\nreached his bed he struck at them and killed them. In the morning the\nking came as usual to inquire, and was surprised to hear his daughter\nand the prince talking gaily together. \"Surely,\" said he, \"this man\nmust be her husband, as he only can live with her.\"\n\n\"Where do you come from? Who are you?\" asked the king, entering the\nroom.\n\n\"Oh king!\" replied the prince, \"I am the son of a king who rules over\nsuch-and-such a country.\"\n\nWhen he heard this the king was very glad, and bade the prince to\nabide in his palace, and appointed him his successor to the throne.\nThe prince remained at the palace for more than a year, and then asked\npermission to visit his own country, which was granted. The king gave\nhim elephants, horses, jewels, and abundance of money for the expenses\nof the way and as presents for his father, and the prince started.\n\nOn the way he had to pass through the country belonging to his\nbrother-in-law, whom we have already mentioned. Report of his arrival\nreached the ears of the king, who came with rope-tied hands and\nhaltered neck to do him homage. He most humbly begged him to stay at\nhis palace, and to accept what little hospitality could be provided.\nWhile the prince was staying at the palace he saw his sister, who\ngreeted him with smiles and kisses. On leaving he told her how she and\nher husband had treated him at his first visit, and how he escaped;\nand then gave them two elephants, two beautiful horses, fifteen\nsoldiers, and ten lacs of rupees' worth of jewels.\n\nAfterward he went to his own home, and informed his mother and father\nof his arrival. Alas! his parents had both become blind from weeping\nabout the loss of their son. \"Let him come in,\" said the king, \"and\nput his hands upon our eyes, and we shall see again.\" So the prince\nentered, and was most affectionately greeted by his old parents; and\nhe laid his hands on their eyes, and they saw again.\n\nThen the prince told his father all that had happened to him, and how\nhe had been saved several times by attending to the advice that he had\npurchased from the Brahmani. Whereupon the king expressed his sorrow\nfor having sent him away, and all was joy and peace again.\n\n\n\n\n_The Emperor's Nightingale_\n\n\nChina, as you know, is ruled over by an Emperor, who is a Chinaman,\nand all his courtiers are Chinamen, too. Now, this little story that I\nam going to tell you happened ever so long ago, and that is why you\nought to hear it now, before it is forgotten, for it is well worth\nhearing.\n\nThe Emperor lived in the most beautiful palace in the world and it was\na very costly one, for it was made of the finest porcelain, and was so\nbrittle that you had to be very careful if you touched it. It was\nsurrounded by such a large garden that the gardener himself did not\nquite know where it ended. Lovely flowers grew in luxuriance, and,\nlest people should pass the most beautiful without noticing them,\npeals of silver bells were tied to their stems.\n\nTruly, everything was carefully planned in the Emperor's garden. If\nyou kept on far enough, you came to a mighty forest which stretched\ndown so close to the margin of the sea that the poor fishermen in\ntheir boats could sail under the overhanging branches.\n\nIn one of these boughs a nightingale lived, and so beautiful was its\nsong that the rough sailors would stop to listen on their way out to\nspread their nets.\n\n\"Ah, what beautiful music!\" they would exclaim, and then they had to\nsail on, for they had their work to do. And again, when nightfall\ncame, and the bird sang, and the boats came drifting home on the tide,\nthey would say:\n\n\"Heavens! how gloriously that bird sings!\"\n\nTravellers came from all over the world to see the Emperor's city and\nhis palace and garden; but when they heard the Nightingale, they would\nsay:\n\n\"That is most beautiful of all.\"\n\nAnd when the travellers reached their homes again, they told all their\nfriends of the wonderful things they had seen and heard; and wise\npeople wrote books, in which they did not forget to tell of the\nNightingale, which was pronounced the loveliest among many lovely\nthings. Even the poets wrote verses about this Nightingale that lived\nin the wood by the sea.\n\nAnd then, one by one, the books travelled over the world, until some\nat last reached the hands of the Emperor, who sat in his golden chair\nand read them, nodding his head with pleasure; for he was charmed with\nthe beautiful descriptions of his city and castle and garden. Then he\nread the words:\n\n\"The Nightingale is the most lovely thing of all!\"\n\n\"What is this?\" he said. \"The Nightingale! I have never heard of such\na bird, yet there seems to be one in my empire--and in my own garden!\nImagine learning of such a thing for the first time from a book!\"\n\nThereupon he summoned his Chamberlain, who was a very important\nperson, and who never replied more than \"Paugh!\" to any inferior who\ndared to ask him anything. This, of course, was no answer at all.\n\n\"This book tells of a very remarkable bird called a Nightingale,\" said\nthe Emperor. \"They say it is the finest thing in my empire. Why has no\none told me about it before?\"\n\n\"I have never heard anyone mention it before, myself,\" replied the\nChamberlain. \"I don't remember that it has ever been presented at\nCourt.\"\n\n\"I command it to appear at Court and sing before me to-night,\" said\nthe Emperor. \"All the world knows what I possess, it appears, except\nmyself.\"\n\n\"I have never heard of such a thing before,\" answered the Chamberlain\nagain, \"but I will search until it is found.\"\n\nBut where was it? The Chamberlain searched up and down the palace,\nthrough corridors and up staircases, but he could not find anyone who\nhad even heard of a nightingale. Then he hastened back to the Emperor\nto say that it must certainly be an invention of the man who had\nwritten the book.\n\n\"Your Imperial Majesty will scarcely credit the sort of things these\npeople will write,\" he said. \"It is all fiction and something called\nBlack Art.\"\n\n\"But the great and mighty Mikado of Japan has sent me this book!\"\nshouted the Emperor, very much annoyed, \"and, therefore, there cannot\nbe anything that is false in it. I must and shall hear the\nNightingale, and I command it to be present this evening. It has my\nespecial Royal favour, and if it is not here, the whole Court shall be\ntrampled upon by camels after supper.\"\n\n\"Tching Pe!\" exclaimed the Chamberlain, very much alarmed, and raced\nup and down stairs and through all the corridors again, accompanied\nnow by half the Court, who were not at all anxious to be trampled\nupon, even after supper. It was a great search after this wonderful\nNightingale, of which all the world had heard, except the Emperor and\nhis courtiers.\n\nAt length they came to the kitchen, where a poor little scullery-maid\nat once exclaimed:\n\n\"Why, yes, I know it well; and it sings beautifully! Every evening I\nhave permission to take the kitchen scraps to my sick mother, who\nlives down on the sea-shore, and often, as I come back, I rest in the\nwood and listen to the Nightingale, Its song makes my eyes fill with\ntears, and I seem to be able to feel my mother's kisses.\"\n\n\"Little girl,\" the Chamberlain said, \"if you will take us straight to\nwhere the Nightingale lives you shall receive a high appointment in\nthe Royal kitchen, and be allowed to see the Emperor dine every night.\nHis Majesty has commanded it to sing before him this evening.\"\n\nSo the girl led the Chamberlain and all the Court to the wood where\nthe Nightingale sang. When they were half-way there a cow began to\nlow.\n\n\"Hark!\" said all the courtiers. \"What a beautiful note, and how\npowerful for such a tiny creature! I have certainly heard it before.\"\n\n\"No,\" said the maid, \"that is only the lowing of a cow. We have a long\nway to go yet.\"\n\n\"Oh, how exquisite!\" murmured the Chinese Court-chaplain, as he heard\nthe frogs croaking in a marsh. \"Now I can hear it; why, it resembles\nthe chime of silver bells.\"\n\n\"No, those are only the marsh frogs,\" said the little maid. \"But we\nshall soon be able to hear it now.\" And then, just as she spoke, the\nNightingale commenced to sing.\n\n\"Ah, now!\" said the girl. \"Listen, listen! There it sits up in the\nbranches,\" and she pointed to a tiny gray bird clinging to a spray of\nthorn.\n\n\"I should never have believed it would look like that,\" exclaimed the\nChamberlain. \"It looks so simple and so pale; it must be frightened at\nthe sight of so many grand people.\"\n\n\"Dear Nightingale,\" called the little girl, \"our most noble Emperor\ndesires you to sing to him.\"\n\n\"Oh, certainly, with pleasure,\" replied the Nightingale; and it sang\nso beautifully it was a treat to hear it.\n\n\"It is like the sound of running water; and see how its tiny throat\nquivers, too,\" the Chamberlain said. \"How strange that we have never\nheard it talked about before! It will be an immense success at Court.\"\n\n\"Would the Emperor like to hear another song?\" asked the bird, for it\nthought the Emperor had been listening all the time.\n\n\"Most worthy Nightingale,\" the Chamberlain replied, \"it is with great\npleasure I command you to appear before his Majesty at a Court\nreception to-night, when you will charm his Majesty with your\ndelightful singing.\"\n\n\"It sounds so much more beautiful out in the wood,\" said the bird; but\nstill it promised willingly when it heard it was the Emperor's royal\ndesire.\n\nThe palace was very elegant in its decorations. The porcelain walls\nand floors glittered and shone with the reflection from many lamps.\nBeautiful flowers, shaking their silvery bells, were banked in rich\nprofusion on each side of the great staircase. Indeed, what with the\npassing of many feet and the great draught, the bells tinkled so\nloudly you could hardly hear yourself speak.\n\nThe Emperor sat on a jewelled throne in the centre of the great hall,\nand close beside him stood a golden perch for the Nightingale. All\nthe courtiers were assembled, and the little scullery-maid, now raised\nto the rank of a real Court cook, had received permission to listen\nbehind the door. Everyone stood dressed in his very best and gazed on\nthe little gray bird, to whom the mighty Emperor had just nodded his\nhead.\n\nThen the Nightingale began to sing, and sang so gloriously that the\nEmperor's eyes so filled with tears that they overflowed and ran down\nhis cheeks. And the bird sang on and on, till it reached one's very\nheart. The Emperor was so delighted that he said the Nightingale\nshould wear his own golden slipper around its neck. But the\nNightingale thanked him very politely and said it had already received\nsufficient reward.\n\n\"For,\" it said, \"I have caused the Emperor's eyes to fill with tears,\nand an Emperor's tears have a mighty power. Heaven knows I have been\nsufficiently repaid.\" And again it burst into its beautiful song.\n\n\"Oh, what charming coquetry!\" said the Court ladies, and each tried to\nkeep their mouths full of water so that they might gurgle like the\nNightingale when they spoke to anyone. Even the footmen and the\nladies' maids expressed their perfect satisfaction, and that was a\ngreat deal, for they are generally the hardest to please. In short,\nthe Nightingale had scored a great success.\n\nIt was so arranged that in future it should live at Court, in its own\ncage, with permission to fly out twice a day, and once during the\nnight.\n\nOn these trips it was accompanied by twelve servants, each of whom\nheld a silken cord attached to its leg, so that really there could not\nbe the slightest pleasure for it in such a flight. As for the city,\nwherever you went, you met people talking of the wonderful bird. One\nhad only to say the word \"Nightin\" when the other would answer \"gale,\"\nand each would give a sigh and feel they perfectly understood each\nother. Eleven babies belonging to poor people were christened after\nthe bird, and yet not one of them could sing a note.\n\nOne day a parcel arrived at the palace, addressed to the Emperor, with\nthe words, \"The Nightingale,\" written on the outside.\n\n\"Oh, this must be a fresh book about our famous bird,\" said the\nEmperor.\n\nBut it was not a book. A wonderful work of art lay within a casket, a\nclockwork nightingale, encrusted in diamonds and rubies and pearls,\nand fashioned in the shape of a real bird. When it had been wound up\nit sang one of the same songs that the real nightingale sang, and its\nglittering tail moved up and down in time to the notes. A ribbon hung\naround its neck, and on it these words were written: \"The Emperor of\nJapan's Nightingale is nothing compared to that of the Emperor of\nChina.\"\n\n\"How perfect!\" everyone cried, and the Emperor immediately bestowed\nthe title of the King's-Imperial-Nightingale-Bringer on the courier\nwho had brought the bird.\n\n\"Now we must hear them sing a duet together. How beautiful it will\nsound!\" they all said. But it did not sound so well as they had\nexpected, for the real bird sang in a natural way, and just whatever\ncame into its little throat, and the artificial bird could only sing\nwaltzes.\n\n\"The new one sings quite correctly,\" said the chief Court musician.\n\"It keeps perfect time, and understands my own method, I can hear.\" So\nthen the new one had to sing by itself and obtained quite as much\napplause as the real one had done. Besides, it looked so much\nhandsomer; glittering and glistening like bracelets and breast-pins.\n\nOver and over again, for quite thirty-three times, it sang the same\ntune and yet was not tired. The courtiers would have liked to hear it\nagain even, only the Emperor said \"No, it's the real bird's turn now,\nlet us ask it to sing.\"\n\nBut where was the Nightingale? Not a soul had seen it fly out of the\nopen window back to its own green woods.\n\n\"Well, well! whatever has become of it?\" exclaimed the Emperor. And\nall the courtiers united in saying it was a most ungrateful creature.\n\n\"After all,\" they said, \"we still have the better bird,\" and with that\nthe new one had to sing his song for the thirty-fourth time, and even\nthen the courtiers had not caught the tune quite correctly, for it was\nvery difficult and tricky. The Court musician, especially, praised\nthe bird, and said, not only was its plumage much more handsome, but\nits inside was better made, too.\n\n\"For your Imperial Highness, and you, my noble lords and ladies, must\nsee,\" he went on, \"that with a real Nightingale you can never tell\nwhat is coming next, but with an imitation one everything is settled.\nOne can open it and see exactly how it works, where the waltz comes\nfrom, and why the notes follow one after the other.\"\n\nThe courtiers all agreed with the Court musician, and the Emperor\ncommanded him to show it to the people on the following Saturday, and\nlet them hear it sing. This he did, and the Chinese people felt so\npleased and happy they all nodded their heads and shook their\nforefingers and said \"Ah!\" Only the fishermen, who had heard the real\nbird sing, shook their heads and said it all sounded very nice, and\nvery much alike, too; but somehow--they didn't quite know\nhow--something seemed lacking.\n\nAnd so the real Nightingale was sent into exile, and the imitation one\nslept on a satin cushion close to the Emperor's bed. All the jewels\nand precious stones that had been showered on it as presents were\narranged around the edge of the cushion, and it was given the title of\nthe Emperor's Own Court Singer and advanced to the very highest rank,\nthat of First on the Left; for the left was thought to be the highest\nstation, as the Emperor wore his heart on that side, just like\nordinary people.\n\nThe Court musician wrote twenty-five volumes on the imitation bird.\nThe work was very tedious and dull, and full of the longest Chinese\nwords you can imagine; and people always said they had read it and\npretended to have enjoyed it, or else they would have been thought\nstupid and have had their bodies trampled upon.\n\nA whole year passed by in this fashion, and at last the Emperor and\nhis Court and all the Chinese people knew every turn and trill of the\nNightingale's song by heart, and this pleased them more than ever.\nThey often sang with it, and the street-urchins, even, could sing\n\"Tchoochoohuh juggjugg jugg,\" and the Emperor just the same. It was\nreally delightful.\n\nOne evening the Emperor lay in his bed listening to the bird which was\nsinging its very best. Suddenly it stopped with a jerk, and bang!\nsomething had snapped in its inside, and all its wheels ran down with\na whirr, and then there was a dead silence.\n\nThe Emperor sprang out of bed and sent for the Court physician, but he\ncould do nothing. Then a watchmaker was fetched in, and after he had\ntalked a lot, and poked and examined the inside a great deal, he\nmanaged to put it in something like working order again.\n\n\"You must not use it too much,\" he said, \"it is nearly worn out, and\none can never put in fresh works again and be sure of the music being\nas good as before.\"\n\nAt this there was great mourning all over the country, for the\nimitation bird must only be allowed to sing once a year in future, and\neven that might prove too much for it.\n\nAnd when these performances were given the Court musician made a short\nspeech, full of very long words, proving that it sang as beautifully\nas ever, and so the Court thought it did and were very well content.\n\nAfter five years had passed the Emperor fell very ill. All the people\nfelt sad, for they were really extremely fond of him, and now it was\nsaid he could not possibly live. Already the new Emperor was selected,\nand the people stood about in the streets and begged to know from the\nChamberlain how the old Emperor was.\n\nBut \"Paugh!\" was all he would say as he nodded his head.\n\nWhite and cold the old Emperor lay in his great tall bed, and all the\ncourtiers thought he was dead, and ran away to greet their new King.\nIn the antechamber the pages gossiped with the maids-in-waiting as\nthey ate a splendid tea. The palace was wrapped in silence, for\ncarpets had been laid down in the hall and corridor, so that the noise\nof footsteps might be deadened. It was very, very still and solemn.\nAnd the Emperor, still alive, lay all cold and pale on the magnificent\nbed, with its heavy velvet draperies and gorgeous golden tassels.\nHigh up, through the open window, the moon shone in upon him and the\nimitation nightingale lying in its casket by the bed.\n\nThe poor old Emperor lay panting for breath; a terrible weight seemed\npressing on his chest, and he opened his eyes at last to see Death\nsitting there, with the Emperor's crown upon his head and his sword\nand jewelled sceptre in his hands.\n\nThe Emperor's gaze travelled round, and he saw faces--some ugly and\nsome smiling and gentle--peeping at him from among the velvet folds of\nthe curtains; these were the Emperor's good and bad deeds looking down\nat him as Death pressed on his heart.\n\n\"Don't you remember this?\" and \"Can you recall that?\" they all seemed\nto be whispering. And the cold sweat broke out on the Emperor's brow,\nat the recollections they brought to his mind.\n\n\"I do not remember--I cannot!\" gasped the Emperor, then cried, \"Music!\nmusic! Bring the great Chinese drum, that I may not hear what they\nsay.\"\n\nBut still they whispered together, and Death nodded his head, like a\nChinese mandarin, at all they said.\n\n\"Music, music, I say!\" shrieked the old Emperor. \"Oh precious jewelled\nbird, sing! I heaped upon you gold and precious stones, and even hung\nmy golden slippers around your neck. Ah, heavens! sing! I say, sing!\"\n\nBut the imitation bird was still and silent, for until someone wound\nit up, it could not sing, and there was no one by to do it. And Death\nstill sat gazing at him with hollow, hungry eyes, and all around was\nterribly still.\n\nSuddenly a silvery note floated in at the open window. It was the\nvoice of the real Nightingale as it sat upon a bough outside. It had\nheard the Emperor was ill, and had come back to comfort him and fill\nhim with hope.\n\nAnd as its song gained strength and rose and fell in delicious trills,\nthe ghostly faces faded away and the warm life blood began to flow\nanew in the Emperor's veins. Even Death raised his head and said, \"Go\non, go on, little Nightingale.\"\n\n\"Ah, but you will give me the Emperor's royal crown and his sword and\njewelled sceptre, if I do?\" asked the bird.\n\nAnd Death exchanged each of these treasures for a song, and the\nNightingale went on singing--of a peaceful churchyard, heavy with the\nscent of roses and elder blossom, where the grass lay thick with the\ndew of many tears shed by mortals over dear ones lying sleeping there.\nThen Death was filled with a yearning to be in his own garden, and\npassed like a gray mist out of the open window.\n\n\"Deep, deep thanks I give you,\" said the Emperor. \"Merciful little\nbird! I know you again. It was you I banished from my presence and my\nkingdom. And yet, you have charmed the evil spectres from my bed and\nDeath from my heart. How can I ever repay you?\"\n\n\"I am already rewarded in that I drew tears from your eyes when first\nI sang to you. Those tears were jewels to crown the heart of any\nsinger, and I shall never forget them. I will sing you to sleep now, a\nsleep from which you will awake fresh and strong again.\"\n\nAnd the Emperor fell into a sweet, refreshing slumber, so deep and\npeaceful that he awoke strong and well in the warm sunlight. None of\nthe courtiers were by him, for all believed he was dead, only the\nNightingale was still singing a gentle, sweet song.\n\n\"You must never leave me,\" the Emperor said; \"you shall only sing when\nyou desire, and I will break the artificial bird into a million\npieces.\"\n\n\"No, spare it,\" said the Nightingale. \"It did its best as long as it\nwas able, so keep it as before. I cannot build my nest within the\ncastle, but I will often come to you at evening and sing, on the bough\noutside the window, songs that will make you glad, and at the same\ntime sweetly melancholy. I will sing of happiness and sorrow, of the\ngoodness and wickedness that lie close around you. The singing bird\nloves the fisherman's hut, the peasant's cot, and all that is far\nremoved from palace and court. But I love your soul more than your\ncrown. I will fly to you and sing my songs, but you must promise me\none thing.\"\n\nThe Emperor stood in his royal robes, which he had put on with his own\nhands, and he pressed his sword-hilt to his breast as he said:\n\n\"Anything that I can, I will grant.\"\n\n\"I only ask of you this one thing. Do not let anyone know that you\nhave a little bird that tells you all; it will be for the best.\"\n\nSo saying the Nightingale flew away.\n\nThen the servants entered to attend to their dead Emperor, and when\nthey saw him standing there strong and well, they started back aghast.\n\nBut the Emperor only said:\n\n\"Good morning!\"\n\n\n\n\n_Hookedy-Crookedy_\n\n\nOnce on a time there was a King and Queen in Ireland, and they had one\nson named Jack, and when Jack grew up to be man big, he rose up one\nday and said to his father and mother that he would go off and push\nhis fortune.\n\nAll his father and mother could say to Jack, they could not keep him\nfrom going. So with his staff in his hand and his father's and\nmother's blessing on his head, off he started, and he travelled away\nfar, farther than I could tell you, and twice as far as you could tell\nme. At length one day, coming up to a big wood, he met a gray-haired\nold man. The old man asked him, \"Jack, where are you going?\"\n\nHe says, \"I am going to push my fortune.\"\n\n\"Well,\" says the old man, says he, \"If 't is looking for service you\nare, there is a Giant who lives at the other side of that wood that\nthey call the Giant of the Hundred Hills, and I believe he wants a\nfine strong, able, clever young fellow like you.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" says Jack, \"I will push on to him.\"\n\nPush on Jack did, away through the wood, until he got to the other\nside, and then he saw a big castle, and going up he knocked at the\ndoor, and a big Giant came out.\n\n\"Welcome, Jack,\" says he, \"the King of Ireland's Son! Where are you\ngoing and what do you want?\"\n\n\"I come,\" says Jack, \"to push my fortune, and am looking for honest\nservice. I have been told,\" he says to the Giant of the Hundred Hills,\n\"that you wanted a clean, clever boy like me.\"\n\n\"Well,\" says the Giant, \"I am the Giant of the Hundred Hills, and do\nwant such a fine fellow as you. I have to go away every day,\" he says,\n\"to battle with another giant at the other end of the world, and when\nI am away I want somebody to look after my house and place. If you\nwill be of good, faithful service to me, and do everything I tell you,\nI will give you a bag of gold at the end of the time.\" Jack promised\nhe would do all that. The Giant then gave him a hearty supper and a\ngood bed, and well he slept that night. In the morning the Giant had\nhim called up before the first lark was in the sky.\n\n\"Jack, my brave boy,\" says he, \"I have got to be off to the other end\nof the world to-day to fight the Giant of the Four Winds, and it is\ntime you were up and looking after your business. You have got to put\nthis house in order, and look after everything in it until I come back\nto-night. To every room in the house and to every place about the\nhouse you can go, except the stable. My stable door is closed, and on\nthe peril of your life, don't open it or go into the stable. Keep that\nin mind.\"\n\nJack said he certainly would. Then the Giant visited the stable, and\nstarted off; and as soon as he was gone, Jack went fixing and\narranging the house and setting everything in order. And a wonderful\nhouse it was to Jack, so big and so great; and after that he went to\nthe castle yard and into every house and building there, except the\nstable: and when he had visited all the rest of them, he stood before\nthe stable and looked at it a long time. \"And I wonder,\" says Jack,\nsays he, \"I wonder what can be in there, and what is the reason he\nwants me on the peril of my life not to go into it? I would like to go\nand peep in, and there certainly would be no harm.\"\n\nEvery door in and about the Giant's place was opened by a little ring\nturning on a pivot in the middle of the door. Forward to the stable\ndoor Jack then steps, turns the little ring, and the door flew open.\nInside what does Jack see but a mare and a bear standing by the\nmanger, and neither of them eating. There was hay before the bear and\nmeat before the mare.\n\n\"Well,\" says Jack, \"it is no wonder, poor creatures, you are not\neatin'. That was a nice blunder of the Giant,\" and he stepped in and\nchanged their food, putting hay before the mare and meat before the\nbear, and at once both of them fell to it and Jack went out and closed\nthe stable door. As he did so his finger stuck in the ring, and he\npulled and struggled to get it away, but he could not.\n\nThat was a fix for poor Jack, \"And by this and by that,\" says he, \"the\nGiant will be back and find me stuck here;\" so he whips out his knife,\nand cuts off his finger, and leaves it there.\n\nAnd when the Giant came home that night, says he to Jack, \"Well, Jack,\nwhat sort of a day have you had this day, and how did you get along?\"\n\n\"I had a fine day,\" says Jack, \"and got along very well indeed.\"\n\n\"Jack,\" says he, \"show me your two hands;\" and when Jack held out his\ntwo hands, the Giant saw one of his fingers gone. He got black in the\nface with rage when he saw this, and he said, \"Jack, did I not warn\nyou on the peril of your life not to go into that stable?\"\n\nPoor Jack pleaded all he could, and said he did not mean to, but\ncuriosity got the best of him, and he thought he would open the door\nand peep in.\n\nSays the Giant, \"No man before ever opened that stable door and lived\nto tell it, and you, too, would be a dead man this minute only for one\nthing. Your father's father did my father a great service once. I am\nthe man who never forgets a good thing, and for that service,\" says\nhe, \"I give you your life and pardon this time; but if you ever do the\nlike again, you won't live.\"\n\nJack, he promised that surely and surely he would never do the like\nagain. His supper he got that night, and to bed. And at early morning\nagain the Giant had him up, and, \"Jack,\" says he, \"I must be off to\nthe other end of the world again and fight the Giant of the Four\nWinds. You know your duty is to look after this house and place and\nset everything in order about it, and go everywhere you like, only\ndon't open the stable door or go into the stable, on the peril of your\nlife.\"\n\n\"I will mind all that,\" says Jack.\n\nThen that morning again the Giant visited the stable before he went\naway. And after he had gone, to his work went Jack, wandering through\nthe house, cleaning and setting everything in order about it, and out\ninto the yard he went, and fixed and arranged everything out there,\nexcept the stable. He stood before the stable door a good while this\nday, and says he to himself, \"I wonder how the bear and the mare are\ndoing, and what the Giant did when he went in to see them? I would\ngive a great deal to know,\" says he. \"I will take a peep in.\"\n\nInto the ring of the door he put his finger, and turned it, and looked\nin, and there he saw the mare and the bear standing as on the day\nbefore and neither of them eating. In Jack steps. \"And no wonder, poor\ncreatures,\" says he, \"you don't eat, when that is the way the Giant\nblundered,\" he says, after he saw the meat before the mare and the hay\nbefore the bear this time also.\n\nJack then changed the food, putting the hay before the mare and the\nmeat before the bear, as it should be, and very soon both the mare and\nthe bear were eating heartily; and then Jack went out. He closed the\ndoor, and when he did so, his finger stuck in the ring; and pull and\nstruggle though Jack did, he could not get it out.\n\n\"Och, och, och,\" says Jack, says he, \"I am a dead man to-day surely.\"\n\nHe whips out his knife, and cuts off his finger, and leaves it there,\nand 't was there when the Giant came home that night.\n\n\"Well, Jack, my fine boy,\" says he, \"how have you got on to-day?\"\n\n\"Oh, finely, finely,\" says Jack, says he, holding his hands behind his\nback all the same.\n\n\"Show me your hands, Jack,\" says the Giant, \"till I see if you wash\nthem and keep them clean always.\" And when Jack showed his hands, the\nGiant got black in the face with rage, and says he, \"Didn't I forgive\nyou your life yesterday for going into that stable, and you promised\nnever to do it again, and here I find you out, once more?\"\n\nThe Giant ranted and raged for a long time, and then says he, \"Because\nyour father's father did my father such a good turn, I suppose I will\nhave to spare your life this second time; but, Jack,\" says he, \"if you\nshould live for a hundred years, and spend them all in my service,\nand if you should then again open that door and put your foot into my\nstable that day,\" says he, \"you will be a dead man as sure as there is\na head on you. Mind that!\"\n\nJack, he thanked the Giant very much for sparing his life, and\npromised that he never, never would again disobey him.\n\nThe next morning the Giant had Jack up early, and told him he was\ngoing off this day to fight the Giant at the other end of the world,\nand gave Jack his directions, and warned him just as on the other\ndays. Then he went into the stable before he went away. And when he\nwas gone, Jack went through all the house, and through the whole yard,\nsetting everything in order, and when everything was done, he stood\nbefore the stable door.\n\n\"I wonder,\" says Jack, \"how the poor mare and the poor bear are\ngetting along and what the Giant of the Hundred Hills was doing here\nto-day? I should very much like,\" says he, \"to take one wee, wee peep\nin,\" and he opened the door.\n\nJack peeped in, and there the mare and the bear stood looking at each\nother again, and neither of them taking a morsel. And there was the\nmeat before the mare and the hay before the bear, just as on the other\ndays.\n\n\"Poor creatures,\" says Jack, \"it is no wonder you are not eating, and\nhungry and hungry you must be.\" And forward he steps, and changes the\nfood, putting it as it should be, the hay before the mare and the meat\nbefore the bear, and to it both of them fell.\n\nAnd when he had done this, up speaks the mare, and \"Poor Jack,\" says\nshe, \"I am sorry for you. This night you will be killed surely; and\nsorry for us, too, I am, for we will be killed as well as you.\"\n\n\"Oh, oh, oh!\" says Jack, says he, \"that is terrible. Is there nothing\nwe can do?\"\n\n\"Only one thing,\" says the mare.\n\n\"What is that?\" says Jack.\n\n\"It's this,\" says the mare; \"put that saddle and bridle on me, and let\nus start off and be away, far, far from this country, when the Giant\ncomes back.\" And soon Jack had the saddle and bridle on the mare, and\non her back he got to start off.\n\n\"Oh!\" says the bear, speaking up, \"both of you are going away to leave\nme in for all the trouble.\"\n\n\"No,\" says the mare, \"we will not do that. Jack,\" says she, \"take the\nchains and tie me to the bear.\"\n\nJack tied the mare to the bear with chains that were hanging by, and\nthen the three of them, the mare and the bear and Jack, started, and\non and on they went, as fast as they could gallop.\n\nAfter a long time, says the mare: \"Jack, look behind you, and see what\nyou can see.\"\n\nJack looked behind him, and \"Oh!\" says he, \"I see the Giant of the\nHundred Hills coming like a raging storm. Very soon he will be on us,\nand we will all three be murdered.\"\n\nSays the mare, says she, \"We have a chance yet. Look in my left ear,\nand see what you can see;\" and in her left ear Jack looked, and saw a\nlittle chestnut.\n\n\"Throw it over your left shoulder,\" says the mare.\n\nJack threw it over his left shoulder, and that minute there arose\nbehind them a chestnut wood ten miles wide. On and on they went that\nday and that night; and till the middle of the next day, \"Jack,\" says\nthe mare, \"look behind you, and see what you can see.\"\n\nJack looked behind him, and \"Oh!\" says he, \"I see the Giant of the\nHundred Hills coming tearing after us like a harvest hurricane.\"\n\n\"Do you see anything strange about him, Jack?\" says the mare.\n\n\"Yes,\" says Jack, says he, \"there are as many bushes on the top of his\nhead, and as much fowl stuck about his feet and legs as will keep him\nin firewood and flesh for years to come. We are done for this time,\nentirely,\" says poor Jack.\n\n\"Not yet,\" says the mare; \"there is another chance. Look into my right\near, and see what you can see.\"\n\nIn the mare's right ear Jack looked, and found a drop of water.\n\n\"Throw it over your left shoulder, Jack,\" says the mare, \"and see what\nwill happen.\"\n\nOver his left shoulder Jack threw it, and all at once a lough sprung\nup between them and the Giant that was one hundred miles wide every\nway and one hundred miles deep.\n\n\"Now,\" says the mare, \"he cannot reach us until he drinks his way\nthrough the lough, and very likely he will drink until he bursts, and\nthen we shall be rid of him altogether.\"\n\nJack thanked God, and on he went. It was not long now until he reached\nthe borders of Scotland, and there he saw a great wood.\n\n\"Now,\" says the mare and the bear, \"this wood must be our\nhiding-place.\"\n\n\"And what about me?\" says Jack.\n\n\"For you, Jack,\" says the mare, \"you must push on and look for\nemployment. The castle of the King of Scotland is near by, and I think\nyou will be likely to get employment there; but first I must change\nyou into an ugly little hookedy-crookedy fellow, because the King of\nScotland has three beautiful daughters, and he won't take into his\nservice a handsome fellow like you, for fear his daughters would fall\nin love with you.\"\n\nThen the mare put her nostrils to Jack's breast and blew her breath\nover him, and Jack was turned into an ugly little hookedy-crookedy\nfellow.\n\n\"Jack,\" says the mare, \"before you go, look into my left ear, and take\nwhat you see there.\"\n\nOut of the mare's left ear Jack took a little cap.\n\n\"Jack,\" says she, \"that is a wishing-cap, and every time you put it on\nand wish to have anything done, it will be done. Whenever you are in\nany trouble,\" the mare says, \"come back to me, and I will do what I\ncan for you, and now good-bye.\"\n\nSo Jack said good-bye to the mare and to the bear, and set off. When\nhe got out of the wood, he soon saw a castle, and walked up to it and\nwent in by the kitchen. A servant was busy scouring knives. He told\nher he wanted employment. She said the King of Scotland would employ\nno man in his house, so he might as well push on. But Jack insisted\nthat the King would give him work, and at length the girl consented to\ngo and let the King know.\n\nWhen the girl had gone away, Jack put on his wishing-cap and wished\nthe knives and forks scoured, and all at once the knives and forks,\nthat were piled in a stack ten yards high, were scoured as brightly as\nnew pins; and though the King of Scotland did not want to employ him,\nwhen he found how quickly Jack had scoured all the big stack of knives\nand forks, he agreed to keep him. But first he brought down his three\ndaughters to see Jack, so that he could observe what impression Jack\nmade upon them. When they came into the kitchen and saw the ugly\nlittle fellow, every one of the three fainted and had to be carried\nout.\n\n\"It is all right,\" says the King; \"we will surely keep you,\" and Jack\nwas employed, and sent out into the garden to work there.\n\nNow at this time the King of the East declared war on the King of\nScotland. The King of the East had a mighty army entirely, and he\nthreatened to wipe the King of Scotland off the face of the earth.\n\nThe King of Scotland was very much troubled, and he consulted with his\nGrand Adviser what was best to be done, and his Grand Adviser\ncounselled that he should at once give his three daughters in marriage\nto sons of kings, and in that way get great help for the war. The King\nsaid this was a grand idea.\n\nSo he sent out messengers to all parts of the world to say that his\nthree beautiful daughters were ready for marriage. In a very short\ntime the son of the King of Spain came and married the eldest\ndaughter, and the son of the King of France came and married the\nsecond, and a whole lot of princes came looking for the youngest, who\nwas the most beautiful of the three and whose name was Yellow Rose;\nbut she would not take one of them, and for this the King ordered her\nnever to come into his sight, nor into company, again.\n\nYellow Rose got very downhearted, and spent almost all her time now\nwandering in the garden, where the Hookedy-Crookedy lad was looking\nafter the flowers, and she used to come around again and again,\nchatting to Hookedy-Crookedy. And so it was not long until he saw that\nthe Yellow Rose was in love with him, and he got just as deeply in\nlove with her, for she was a beautiful and charming girl.\n\nThe next thing the Grand Adviser counselled the King was that he\nshould send his two new sons-in-law, the Prince of Spain and the\nPrince of France, to the Well of the World's End for bottles of\nIoca[2] to take to battle with them, that they might cure the wounded\nand dead men. So the King ordered his sons-in-law to go to the Well of\nthe World's End and bring him back two bottles of Ioca.\n\n[Footnote 2: Ioca was a liquid that cured all wounds and restored the\ndead to life.]\n\nThe Yellow Rose told Hookedy-Crookedy this, and when he had turned it\nover in his mind, he said to himself, \"I will go and have a chat with\nthe mare and the bear about this.\"\n\nSo off to the woods he went, and right glad the mare and the bear were\nto see him. He told them all that had happened, and then he told them\nhow the King's two sons-in-law were to start to the Well of the\nWorld's End the next day, and asked the mare's advice about it.\n\n\"Well, Jack,\" says the mare, \"I want you to go with them. Take an old\nhunter in the King's stable, an old bony, skinny animal that is past\nall work, and put an old straw saddle on him, and dress yourself in\nthe most ragged dress you can get, and join the two men on the road,\nand say that you are going with them. They will be heartily ashamed of\nyou, Jack, and your old horse, and they will do everything to get rid\nof you. When you come to the crossroads, one of them will propose to\ngo in and have a drink; and while you are chatting over your drink,\nthey will propose that the three of you separate and every one take a\nroad by himself to go to the Well of the World's End, and that all\nthree shall meet at the crossroads again, and whoever is back first\nwith the bottle of water is to be the greatest hero of them all. You\nagree to this. When they start on their roads, they will not go many\nmiles till they fill their bottles from spring wells by the roadside\nand hurry back to the meeting-place, and then continue on home to the\nKing of Scotland and give him these bottles as bottles of Ioca from\nthe Well of the World's End. But you will be before them. After you\nhave set out on the road, and when you have gone around the first\nbend, put on your wishing-cap and wish for two bottles of Ioca from\nthe Well of the World's End, and at once you will have them.\" And then\nthe mare directed Jack fully all that he was to do after.\n\nJack thanked the mare, and bade good-bye to her, and went away.\n\nThe next day, when the King's two sons-in-law set out on their grand\nsteeds to go to the Well of the World's End, they had not gone far\nwhen Jack, in a ragged old suit and sitting on a straw saddle on an\nold white skinny horse, joined them and told them he too was going\nwith them for a bottle of Ioca. Right heartily ashamed were they of\nJack and ready to do anything to get rid of him.\n\nBy and by, when they came to where the road divided into three, they\nproposed to have a drink, and as they set off to drink they proposed\nthat each take a road for himself, and whoever got back first with a\nbottle of Ioca would be the greatest hero. All agreed, and each chose\nhis own road and set out.\n\nWhen Jack had got around the first bend, he put on his wishing-cap and\nwished for two bottles of Ioca from the Well of the World's End, and\nno sooner had he wished than he had them; and back again he came, and\nwhen the other two came riding up, surprised they were to find Jack\nthere before them. They said that Jack had not been to the Well of the\nWorld's End and it was no Ioca he had with him, but some water from\nthe roadside.\n\nSaid Jack, \"Take care that is not your own story. Just test them; when\nthe servant comes in, you cut off his head and then cure him with\nwater from your bottles.\"\n\nBut both refused to do this, for they knew the water in their bottles\ncould not cure anything, and they defied Jack to do it.\n\n\"Very soon I will do it,\" said Jack.\n\nSo when the servant came in with the bottles of Ioca, Jack drew his\nsword and whipped his head off him, and in a minute's time, with two\ndrops from one of his bottles, he had the head on again.\n\nSays they to Hookedy-Crookedy, \"What will you take for your two\nbottles?\"\n\nSays Jack, \"I will take the golden balls of your marriage pledge, and\nalso you shall allow me to write something on your backs.\"\n\nAnd they agreed to this. They handed over to Jack the two golden balls\nthat were their marriage tokens, and they let Jack write on their bare\nbacks; and what Jack wrote on each of them was, \"This is an unlawfully\nmarried man.\" Then he gave them the bottles of Ioca, and they brought\nthem to the King, and Jack returned to his garden again.\n\nHe did not tell the Yellow Rose where he had been and what doing, only\nsaid he was away on a message for her father. As soon as the King got\nthe bottles of Ioca, he gave orders that his army should move to\nbattle the next day.\n\nThe next morning early Jack was over to the wood to consult the mare.\nHe told her what was going to happen that day. Says the mare, \"Look in\nmy left ear, Jack, and see what you will see.\"\n\nJack looked in the mare's left ear, and took out of it a grand\nsoldier's dress. The mare told him to put it on and get on her back.\nOn he put the dress, and at once Hookedy-Crookedy was transformed into\na very handsome, dashing young fellow, and off went Jack and the mare\nand the bear, the three of them, away to the war. Every one saw them,\nand they admired Jack very much, he was such a handsome,\nclever-looking fellow, and the word was passed on to the King about\nthe great Prince who was riding to the war--himself, the mare, and the\nbear. The King came to see him, too, and asked him on which side he\nwas going to fight.\n\n\"I will strike no stroke this day,\" says Jack, \"except on the side of\nthe King of Scotland.\"\n\nThe King thanked him very heartily, and said he was sure they would\nwin. So they went into the battle with Jack at their head, and Jack\nstruck east and west and in all directions and at every blow of his\nsword the wind of his stroke tossed houses on the other side of the\nworld, and in a very short time the King of the East ran off, with\nall his soldiers that were still left alive. Then the King of Scotland\ninvited Jack to come home with him, as he was going to give a great\nfeast in his honor, but Jack said no, he could not go.\n\n\"They don't know at home,\" said Jack, \"where I am at all\"--and neither\nthey did--\"so I must be off to them as quickly as possible.\"\n\n\"Then,\" says the King, \"the least I can do is to give you a present.\nHere is a tablecloth,\" says he, \"and every time you spread it out you\nwill have it covered with eating and drinking of all sorts.\"\n\nJack took it, and thanked him, and rode away. He left the mare and the\nbear in their own wood, and became Hookedy-Crookedy again, and ran\nback to his garden. The Yellow Rose told him of the brave soldier that\nhad won her father's battle that day.\n\n\"Well, well,\" says Jack, says he, \"he must have been a grand fellow\nentirely. It is a pity I was not there, but I had to go on a message\nfor the King.\"\n\n\"Poor Hookedy-Crookedy,\" says she, \"what could you do if you were\nthere yourself?\"\n\nJack went to the wood again next morning, and consulted with the mare.\n\n\"Jack,\" said the mare, \"look in the inside of my left ear, and see\nwhat you will see,\" and Jack took out of her left ear a soldier's\nsuit, done off with silver, the grandest ever seen, and at the mare's\nadvice he put the suit on, and mounted on her back, and the three of\nthem went off to the battle. Every one was admiring the beautiful,\ndashing fellow that was riding to the battle this day, and word came\nto the King, and the King came to speak to him and welcomed him\nheartily.\n\nHe said, \"Your brother came with us the last day we went into the\nbattle. Your brother is a very handsome, fine-looking fellow. What\nside are you going to fight on?\"\n\nSays Jack, \"I will strike no stroke on any side but yours this day.\"\n\nThe King thanked him very heartily, and into the battle they went\nwith Jack at their head, and Jack struck east and west and in all\ndirections, and the wind of the strokes blew down forests in the other\nend of the world, and very soon the King of the East, with all his\nsoldiers that were still alive, drew off from the battle.\n\nThen the King thanked Jack and invited him to his castle; where he\nwould give a feast in his honor. But Jack said he could not go, for\nthey did not know at home where he was, and they would be uneasy about\nhim until he reached home again.\n\n\"Then,\" says the King, \"the least I can do for you is to give you a\npresent. Here is a purse, and no matter how often and how much you pay\nout of it, it will never be empty.\"\n\nJack took it, and thanked him, and rode away. In the wood he left the\nmare and the bear, and was again changed into Hookedy-Crookedy, and\nwent home to his garden. The Yellow Rose came out, and told him about\nthe great victory a brave and beautiful soldier, brother to the fine\nfellow of the day before, had won for her father.\n\n\"Well, well,\" says Jack, says he, \"that was very wonderful entirely. I\nam sorry I was not there, but I had to be away on a message for your\nfather.\"\n\n\"But, my poor Hookedy-Crookedy,\" says she, \"it was better so, for what\ncould you do?\"\n\nThree days after that the King of the East took courage to come to\nbattle again. The morning of the battle Jack went to the wood to\nconsult the mare.\n\n\"Look into my left ear, Jack, and see what you will see,\" and from the\nmare's left ear Jack drew out a most gorgeous soldier's suit, done off\nwith gold braiding and ornaments of every sort. By the mare's advice\nhe put it on, and himself, the mare, and the bear went off to the war.\n\nThe King soon heard of the wonderfully grand fellow that was riding to\nthe war to-day with the mare and the bear, and he came to Jack and\nwelcomed him and told him how his two brothers had won the last two\nvictories for him. He asked Jack on what side he was going to fight.\n\n\"I will strike no stroke this day,\" says Jack, \"only on the King of\nScotland's side.\"\n\nThe King thanked him heartily, and said, \"We will surely win the\nvictory,\" and then into the battle they rode with Jack at their head,\nand Jack struck east and west and in all directions, and the wind of\nthe strokes tumbled mountains at the other end of the world, and very\nsoon the King of the East with all his soldiers that were left alive\ntook to their heels and never stopped running until they went as far\nas the world would let them.\n\nThen the King came to Jack and thanked him over and over again, and\nsaid he would never be able to repay him. He then invited him to come\nto his castle, where he would give a little feast in his honour, but\nJack said they didn't know at home where he was and they would be\nuneasy about him, and so he could not go with the King.\n\n\"But,\" says he, \"I and my brothers will come to the feast with you at\nany other time.\"\n\n\"What day will the three of you come?\" said the King.\n\n\"Only one of us can leave home in one day,\" said Jack. \"I will come to\nfeast with you to-morrow, and my second brother the day after, and my\nthird brother the day after that.\"\n\nThe King agreed to this and thanked him. \"And now,\" said the King,\n\"let me give you a present,\" and he gave him a comb, such that every\ntime he combed his hair with it he would comb out of it bushels of\ngold and silver, and it would transform the ugliest man that ever was\ninto the nicest and handsomest. Jack took it and thanked the King and\nrode away.\n\nOn this day, as on the other two days after the battle, they cured the\ndead and the wounded with the bottles of Ioca, and all were well\nagain. When Jack went to the wood, he left the mare and the bear in it\nand became Hookedy-Crookedy again, and went home and to his garden.\nThe Yellow Rose came to him and had wonderful news for him this day\nabout the terrible grand fellow entirely, who had won the battle for\nher father that day; brother to the two brave fellows who had won the\nbattles on the other two days.\n\n\"Well,\" says Jack, says he, \"those must be wonderful chaps. I wish I\nhad been there; but I had to be away on a message for your father all\nday.\"\n\n\"Oh, my poor Hookedy-Crookedy,\" says she, \"it was better so, for what\ncould you do?\"\n\nThe next day, when it was near dinner time, he went off to the wood to\nthe mare and the bear and got on the suit he had worn the day before\nin the battle, and mounted the mare and rode for the castle, and when\nhe came there all the gates happened to be closed, but he put the mare\nat the walls, which were nine miles high, and leaped them.\n\nThe King scolded the gate-keepers, but Jack said a trifle like that\ndidn't harm him or his mare. After dinner the King asked him what he\nthought of his two daughters and their husbands. Jack said they were\nvery good and asked him if he had any more daughters in his family.\n\nThe King said he used to have another, the youngest, but she would not\nconsent to marry as he wished, and he had banished her out of his\nsight.\n\nJack said he would like to see her.\n\nThe King said he never wished to let her enter company again, but he\ncould not refuse Jack; so the Yellow Rose was sent for.\n\nJack fell a-chatting with her and used all his arts to win her; and of\ncourse, in this handsome Jack she did not recognize ugly little\nHookedy-Crookedy. He told her he had heard that she had the very bad\ntaste to fall in love with an ugly, crooked, wee fellow in her\nfather's garden.\n\n\"I am a handsome fellow, and a rich prince,\" says Jack, \"and I will\ngive you myself and all I possess if you will only say you will accept\nme.\"\n\nShe was highly insulted, and she showed him that very quickly. She\nsaid, \"I won't sit here and hear the man I love abused,\" and she got\nup to leave.\n\n\"Well,\" says Jack, \"I admire your spirit; but before you go,\" says he,\n\"let me make you a little present,\" and he handed her a tablecloth.\n\"There,\" says he, \"if you marry Hookedy-Crookedy, as long as you have\nthis tablecloth, you will never want eating and drinking of the\nbest.\"\n\nThe other two sisters grabbed to get the tablecloth from her but Jack\nput out his hands and pushed them back.\n\nAt dinner time the next day Jack came in the dress in which he had\ngone into the second battle, and with the mare he cleared the walls as\non the day before.\n\nThe King was enraged at the gate-keepers and began to scold them, but\nJack laughed at them and said a trifle like that was nothing to him or\nhis mare.\n\nAfter dinner was over the King asked what he thought of his two\ndaughters and their husbands.\n\nJack said they were very good, and asked him if he had any more\ndaughters in his family.\n\nThe King said, \"I have no more except one who won't do as I wish and\nwho has fallen in love with an ugly, crooked, wee fellow in my garden,\nand I ordered her never to come into my sight.\"\n\nBut Jack said he would very much like to see her.\n\nThe King said that on Jack's account he would break his vow and let\nher come in. So the Yellow Rose was brought in, and Jack fell to\nchatting with her. He did all he could to make her fall in love with\nhim, and told her of all his great wealth and possessions and offered\nhimself to her, and said if she only would marry him she should live\nin ease and luxury and happiness all the days of her life, as she\nnever could do with Hookedy-Crookedy.\n\nBut Yellow Rose got very angry, and said: \"I won't sit here and listen\nto such things,\" and she got up to leave the room.\n\n\"Well,\" says Jack, \"I admire your spirit, and before you go let me\nmake you a little present.\"\n\nSo he handed her a purse. \"Here,\" says he, \"is a purse, and all the\ndays yourself and Hookedy-Crookedy live you will never want for money,\nfor that purse will never be empty.\"\n\nHer sisters made a grab to snatch it from her, but Jack shoved them\nback, and went out. And Jack rode away with the mare after dinner and\nleft her in the wood.\n\nWhen he came back to his garden he always came in the\nHookedy-Crookedy shape and always pretended he had been off on a\nmessage for the King.\n\nThe third day he went to the wood again. He dressed in the suit in\nwhich he had gone to the first battle, and when he came back he went\nto the castle and cleared the walls, and when the King scolded the\ngate-keepers Jack told him never to mind, as that was a small trifle\nto him and his mare.\n\nA very grand dinner indeed Jack had this day, and when they chatted\nafter dinner the King asked him how he liked his two daughters and\ntheir husbands.\n\nHe said he liked them very well, and asked him if he had any more\ndaughters in his family.\n\nThe King said no, except one foolish one who wouldn't do as he wished,\nand who had fallen in love with an ugly, crooked, wee fellow in his\ngarden, and she was never to come within his sight again.\n\nSays Jack, \"I would like to see that girl.\"\n\nThe King said he could not refuse Jack any request he made; so he sent\nfor the Yellow Rose. When she came in, Jack fell into chat with her,\nand did his very, very best to make her fall in love with him. But it\nwas of no use. He told her of all his wealth and all his grand\npossessions, and said if she would marry him she should own all these,\nand all the days she should live she should be the happiest woman in\nthe wide world, but if she married Hookedy-Crookedy, he said, she\nwould never be free from want and hardships, besides having an ugly\nhusband.\n\nIf the Yellow Rose was in a rage on the two days before, she was in a\nfar greater rage now. She said she wouldn't sit there to listen. She\ntold Jack that Hookedy-Crookedy was in her eyes a far more handsome\nand beautiful man than he or than any king's son she had ever seen.\nShe said to Jack, that if he were ten times as handsome and a hundred\ntimes as wealthy, she wouldn't give Hookedy-Crookedy's little finger\nfor himself or for all his wealth and possessions, and then she got up\nto leave the room.\n\n\"Well,\" says Jack, says he, \"I admire your spirit very much and,\" says\nhe, \"I would like to make you a little present. Here is a comb,\" he\nsaid, \"and it will comb out of your hair a bushel of gold and a bushel\nof silver every time you comb with it, and, besides,\" says he, \"it\nwill make handsome the ugliest man that ever was.\"\n\nWhen the other sisters heard this they rushed to snatch the comb from\nher, but Jack threw them backwards so very roughly that their husbands\nsprang at him. With a back switch of his two hands Jack knocked the\nhusbands down senseless. The King flew into a rage, and said, \"How\ndare you do that to the two finest and bravest men of this world?\"\n\n\"Fine and brave, indeed!\" said Jack. \"One and the other are worthless\ncreatures, and not even your lawful sons-in-law.\"\n\n\"How dare you say that?\" says the King.\n\n\"Strip their backs where they lie and see for yourself.\" And there the\nKing saw written, \"An unlawfully married man.\"\n\n\"What is the meaning of this?\" says the King. \"They were lawfully\nmarried to my two daughters, and they have the golden tokens of the\nmarriage.\"\n\nJack drew out from his pocket the golden balls and handed them to the\nKing, and said, \"It is I who have the tokens.\"\n\nThe Yellow Rose had gone off to the garden in the middle of all this.\nJack made the King sit down, and told him all his story, and how he\ncame by the golden balls. He told him how he was Hookedy-Crookedy, and\nthat it reflected a great deal of honour on his youngest daughter that\nshe whom the King thought so worthless should refuse to give up\nHookedy-Crookedy for the one she thought a wealthy prince. The King,\nyou may be sure, was now highly delighted to grant him all he desired.\nA couple of drops of Ioca brought the King's two sons-in-law to their\nsenses again, and at Jack's request, they were ordered to go and live\nelsewhere. Jack went off, left his mare in the wood, and came into the\ngarden as Hookedy-Crookedy. He told the Yellow Rose he had been\ngathering bilberries.\n\n\"Oh,\" says she, \"I have something grand for you. Let me comb your hair\nwith this comb.\"\n\nHookedy-Crookedy put his head in her lap, and she combed out a bushel\nof gold and silver; and when he stood up again, she saw\nHookedy-Crookedy no more, but instead the beautiful prince that had\nbeen trying to win her in her father's drawing-room for the last three\ndays; and then and there to her Jack told his whole story, and it's\nYellow Rose who was the delighted girl.\n\nWith little delay they were married. The wedding lasted a year and a\nday, and there were five hundred fiddlers, five hundred fluters and a\nthousand fifers at it, and the last day was better than the first.\n\nShortly after the marriage, Jack and his bride were out walking one\nday. A beautiful young woman crossed their path. Jack addressed her,\nbut she gave him a very curt reply.\n\n\"Your manners are not so handsome as your looks,\" said Jack to her.\n\n\"And bad as they are, they are better than your memory,\nHookedy-Crookedy,\" says she.\n\n\"What do you mean?\" says Jack.\n\nShe led Jack aside, and she told him, \"I am the mare who was so good\nto you. I was condemned to that shape for a number of years, and now\nmy enchantment is over. I had a brother who was enchanted into a bear,\nand whose enchantment is over now also. I had hopes,\" she says, \"that\nsome day you would be my husband, but I see,\" she says, \"that you\nquickly forgot all about me. No matter now,\" she says; \"I couldn't\nwish you a better and handsomer wife than you have got. Go home to\nyour castle, and be happy and live prosperous. I shall never see you,\nand you will never see me again.\"\n\n\n\n\n_Arndt's Night Underground_\n\n\nIt was on a dreary winter's night, just such a one as it may be\nnow--only you cannot see it for your closed shutters and\ncurtains--that two children were coming home from their daily work,\nfor their parents were poor, and Arndt and Reutha had already to use\ntheir little hands in labour. They were very tired, and as they came\nacross the moor the wind blew in their faces, and the distant roaring\nof the Baltic sea, on whose shore they lived, sounded gloomy and\nterrible.\n\n\"Dear Arndt, let me sit down and rest for a minute, I can go no\nfarther,\" said Reutha, as she sank down on a little mound that seemed\nto rise up invitingly, with its shelter of bushes, from the midst of\nthe desolate moor.\n\nThe elder brother tried to encourage his little sister, as all kind\nbrothers should do; he even tried to carry her a little way; but she\nwas too heavy for him, and they went back to the mound. Just then the\nmoon came out, and the little hillock looked such a nice\nresting-place, that Reutha longed more than ever to stay. It was not a\ncold night, so Arndt was not afraid; and at last he wrapped his sister\nup in her woollen cloak, and she sat down.\n\n\"I will just run a little farther and try if I can see the light in\nfather's window,\" said Arndt. \"You will not be afraid, Reutha?\"\n\n\"Oh, no! I am never afraid.\"\n\n\"And you will not go to sleep?\"\n\n\"Not I,\" said Reutha; and all the while she rubbed her eyes to keep\nthem open, and leaned her head against a branch which seemed to her as\nsoft and inviting as a pillow.\n\nArndt went a little way, until he saw the light which his father\nalways placed so as to guide the children over the moor. Then he felt\nquite safe and at home, and went back cheerfully to his sister.\n\nReutha was not there! Beside the little mound and among the bushes did\npoor Arndt search in terror, but he could not find his sister. He\ncalled her name loudly--there was no answer. Not a single trace of her\ncould be found; and yet he had not been five minutes away.\n\n\"Oh! what shall I do?\" sobbed the boy; \"I dare not go home without\nReutha!\" And there for a long time did Arndt sit by the hillock,\nwringing his hands and vainly expecting that his sister would hear him\nand come back. At last there passed by an old man, who travelled about\nthe country selling ribbons and cloths.\n\n\"How you are grown since I saw you last, my little fellow!\" said the\nman. \"And where is your sister Reutha?\"\n\nArndt burst into tears, and told his friend of all that had happened\nthat night. The peddler's face grew graver and graver as the boy told\nhim it was on this very spot that he lost his little sister.\n\n\"Arndt,\" whispered he, \"did you ever hear of the Hill-men? It is they\nwho have carried little Reutha away.\"\n\nAnd then the old man told how in his young days he had heard strange\ntales of this same moor; for that the little mound was a fairy-hill,\nwhere the underground dwarfs lived, and where they often carried off\nyoung children to be their servants, taking them under the hill, and\nonly leaving behind their shoes. \"For,\" said the peddler, \"the\nHill-people are very particular, and will make all their servants wear\nbeautiful glass shoes instead of clumsy leather.\"\n\nSo he and Arndt searched about the hill, and there, sure enough, they\nfound Reutha's tiny shoes hidden under the long grass. At this her\nbrother's tears burst forth afresh.\n\n\"Oh! what shall I do to bring back my poor sister? The Hill-men and\nwomen will kill her!\"\n\n\"No,\" said the old man, \"they are very good little people, and they\nlive in a beautiful palace underground. Truly, you will never see\nReutha again, for they will keep her with them a hundred years; and\nwhen she comes back you will be dead and buried, while she is still a\nbeautiful child.\"\n\nAnd then, to comfort the boy, the peddler told him wonderful stories\nof the riches and splendour of the Hill-people, how that sometimes\nthey had been seen dancing at night on the mounds, and how they wore\ngreen caps, which, if any mortal man could get possession of, the\ndwarfs were obliged to serve him and obey him in everything. All this\nArndt drank in with eager ears; and when the peddler went away he sat\na long time thinking.\n\n\"I will do it,\" at last he said aloud. \"I will try to get my dear\nReutha safe back again.\"\n\nAnd the boy stole noiselessly to the mound which the Hill-men were\nsupposed to inhabit. He hid himself among the surrounding bushes, and\nthere he lay in the silence and darkness, his young heart beating\nwildly, and only stilled by one thought that lay ever there, that of\nthe lost Reutha. At last a sudden brightness flashed upon the boy's\neyes; it could not be the moon, for she had long set. No; but it was a\nsight more glorious than Arndt had ever dreamed of.\n\nThe grassy hill opened, and through this aperture the boy saw a palace\nunderground, glittering with gold and gems. The Hill-men danced about\nwithin it, dressed like tiny men and women. Arndt thought how\nbeautiful they were, though they seemed no bigger than his own baby\nsister of six months old. One by one they rose out of the opening, and\ngambolled on the snow-covered mound; but wherever they trod flowers\nsprang up, and the air grew light and warm as summer. After a while\nthey ceased dancing and began ball-playing, tossing their little green\ncaps about in great glee. And lo and behold! one of these wonderful\ncaps, being tossed farther than usual, lighted on the very forehead of\nthe peeping boy!\n\nIn a moment he snatched it and held it fast, with a cry of triumph.\nThe light faded--the scene vanished--only Arndt heard a small weak\nvoice whispering, humbly and beseechingly in his ear.\n\n\"Please, noble gentleman, give me my cap again.\"\n\n\"No, no, good Hill-man,\" answered the courageous boy; \"you have got\nmy little sister, and I have got your cap, which I shall keep.\"\n\n\"I will give you a better cap for it--all gold and jewels--oh, so\nbeautiful!\" said the Hill-man, persuasively.\n\n\"I will not have it. What good would it do me? No, no, I am your\nmaster, good dwarf, as you very well know, and I command you to take\nme down in the hill with you, for I want to see Reutha.\"\n\nThere shone a dim light on the grass, like a glowworm, and then Arndt\nsaw the elfin mound open again; but this time the palace looked like a\ndim, gloomy staircase. On the top stair stood the little Hill-man,\nholding the glowworm lamp, and making many low bows to his new master.\nArndt glanced rather fearfully down the staircase; but then he thought\nof Reutha, and his love for her made him grow bold. He took upon\nhimself a lordly air, and bade his little servant lead the way.\n\nThe Hill-man took him through beautiful galleries, and halls, and\ngardens, until the boy's senses were intoxicated with these lovely\nthings. Every now and then he stopped, and asked for Reutha: but then\nthere was always some new chamber to be seen, or some dainty banquet\nto be tasted; until, by degrees, Arndt's memory of his little sister\ngrew dimmer, and he revelled in the delights of the fairy palace hour\nafter hour. When night came--if so it could be called in that lovely\nplace, where night was only day shadowed over and made more\ndelicious--the boy felt himself lulled by sweet music to a soft\ndreaminess, which was all the sleep that was needed in that fairy\nparadise.\n\nThus, day after day passed in all gay delights, the elfin people were\nthe merriest in the world, and they did all their little master\ndesired. And Arndt knew not that while they surrounded him with\ndelights it was only to make him forget his errand. But one day, when\nthe boy lay on a green dell in the lovely fairy-garden, he heard a\nlow, wailing song, and saw a troop of little mortal children at work\nin the distance. Some were digging ore, and others making jewellery,\nwhile a few stood in the stream that ran by, beating linen, as it\nseemed. And among these poor little maidens, who worked so hard and\nsang so mournfully, was his own sister Reutha.\n\n\"No one cares for me,\" she murmured; and her song had in it a\nplaintive sweetness, very different from the way in which the little\nDanish maiden spoke on earth. \"Reutha is alone--her hands are sore\nwith toil--her feet bleed--but no one pities her. Arndt sleeps in\ngorgeous clothes, while Reutha toils in rags. Arndt is the\nmaster--Reutha is the slave! Poor Reutha is quite alone!\"\n\nEven amidst the spells of fairyland that voice went to the brother's\nheart. He called the Hill-people, and bade them bring Reutha to him.\nThen he kissed her, and wept over her, and dressed her in his own\nbeautiful robes, while the Hill-men dared not interfere. Arndt took\nhis sister by the hand, and said--\n\n\"Now, let us go; we have stayed long enough. Good Hill-man, you shall\nhave your cap again when you have brought Reutha and me to our own\nfather's door.\"\n\nBut the Hill-man shook his tiny head, and made his most obsequious\nbow. \"Noble master, anything but this! This little maid we found\nasleep on our hill, and she is ours for a hundred years.\"\n\nHere Arndt got into a passion; for, convinced of the power the little\ngreen cap gave him over the dwarfs, he had long lost all fear of them.\nHe stamped with his foot until the little man leaped up a yard high,\nand begged his master to be more patient.\n\n\"How dare you keep my sister? you ugly little creatures!\" cried the\nboy, his former pleasant companion becoming at once hateful to him.\nBut the Hill-people only gave him gentle answers; until at last he\ngrew ashamed of being so angry with such tiny creatures. They led him\nto a palace, more beautiful than any he had yet seen, and showed him\npearls and diamonds heaped up in basketfuls.\n\n\"You shall take all these away with you, noble sir!\" said his little\nservant. \"They will make you a rich man all the days of your life, and\nyou will live in a palace as fine as ours. Is not that far better than\nhaving a poor helpless sister to work for?\"\n\nBut Arndt caught a glimpse of Reutha, as she sat outside; weeping--she\ndared not enter with him--and he kicked the baskets over, and\nscattered the jewels like so many pebbles.\n\n\"Keep all your treasures, and give me my sister!\" cried he.\n\nThen the Hill-man tried him with something else. Arndt was a very\nhandsome boy and everybody had told him so, until he was rather vain.\nMany a time, when he worked in the field, he used to look at himself\nin a clear, still pool, and think how golden his hair was, and how\nlithe and graceful his figure. Now the Hill-man knew all this; and so\nhe led the boy to a crystal mirror and showed him his own beautiful\nform, set off with every advantage of rich dress. And then, by fairy\nspells, Arndt saw beside it the image of the little peasant as he was\nwhen he entered the hill.\n\n\"Think how different!\" whispered the dwarf. He breathed on the mirror,\nand the boy saw himself as he would be when he grew up--a\nhard-working, labouring man; and opposite, the semblance of a young,\ngraceful nobleman, whose face was the same which the stream had often\ntold him was his own.\n\n\"We can make thee always thus handsome. Choose which thou wilt be,\"\nmurmured the tempting voice.\n\nThe boy hesitated; but the same moment came that melancholy voice--\"My\nbrother is rich, and I am poor; he is clad in silk, and I in rags.\nAlas, for me!\"\n\n\"It shall not be!\" cried the noble boy. \"I will go out of this place\nas poor as I came; but I will take Reutha with me. I will work all the\ndays of my life; but Reutha shall not stay here. Hill-people! I want\nnone of your treasures; but I command you to give me my sister, and\nlet us go!\"\n\nArndt folded his arms around Reutha, and walked with her through all\nthe gorgeous rooms, the Hill-men and women following behind, and\nluring him with their sweetest songs and most bewitching smiles. But\nReutha's voice and Reutha's smile had greatest power of all over her\nbrother's heart.\n\nThey climbed the gloomy staircase, and stood at the opening in the\nhillock. Then the little Hill-man appealed once more to his master--\n\n\"Noble gentleman! remember, a life of labour with Reutha or one of\ncontinual pleasure alone! Think again!\"\n\n\"No, not for a moment,\" said Arndt, as he felt the breezes of earth\nplaying on his cheek. How sweet they were, even after the fragrant\nairs of elfin-land!\n\n\"At least, kind master, give me my cap!\" piteously implored the\nHill-man.\n\n\"Take it; and good-bye for evermore!\" cried Arndt, as he clasped his\nsister in his arms and leaped out. The chasm closed, and the two\nchildren found themselves lying in a snow-drift, with the gray dawn of\na winter's morning just breaking over them.\n\n\"Where have you been all night, my children?\" cried the anxious\nmother, as they knocked at the door.\n\nHad it, indeed, been only a single night, the months that seemed to\nhave passed while they were under the hill? They could not tell, for\nthey were now like all other children, and their wisdom learned in\nfairyland had passed away. It seemed only a dream, save that the\nbrother and sister loved each other better than ever, and so they\ncontinued to do as long as they lived.\n\n\n\n\n_The Unicorn_\n\n\nFritz, Franz, and Hans were charcoal-burners. They lived with their\nmother in the depths of a forest, where they very seldom saw the face\nof another human being. Hans, the youngest, did not remember ever\nhaving lived anywhere else, but Fritz and Franz could just call to\nmind sunny meadows, in which they played as little children, plucking\nthe flowers and chasing the butterflies. Indeed, Fritz was able to\ncompare the present state of miserable poverty in which they lived\nwith the ease and comfort they had enjoyed in years gone by.\n\nOnce upon a time they were well off. They had enough to eat every day;\nthey lived in a comfortable house, surrounded by a nice garden, and\nwith plenty of kind neighbours around them. Then came a change. Their\nfather lost his money and was forced to leave this pleasant home, and\nto earn bread for his family by becoming a charcoal-burner. Everything\nnow became different. Their house was a poor hut, composed of a few\nlogs of wood knocked roughly together. Dry black bread with,\noccasionally, a few potatoes and lentils, and now and then, as a great\ntreat, a little porridge, formed their food. And to secure even this\nthey had to work hard from morning till night at their grimy trade.\nBut their father was brave and patient, and, while he was alive, the\nwolf was kept some distance from the door. Besides, he could always\nput some heart into the boys when they began to flag, by a joke or a\npleasant story. But he had died a year ago, owing to an accident he\nmet with while chopping wood for the furnace, and since his death\nmatters had been going from bad to worse with the family.\n\nFritz and Franz were, unfortunately, selfish, ill-conditioned lads,\nwho made the worst instead of the best of their troubles, and who\neven grudged their mother and brother their share of the food. Hans,\non the other hand, was a capital fellow. He always had a cheerful\nsmile or word, and did all in his power to help his mother to keep in\ngood spirits. One day, at dinner time, they were startled by a knock\nat the door. A knock at the door does not seem to us, perhaps, to be a\nvery startling thing, but they, as I said, so seldom saw a strange\nface near their home that this knock at the door quite took away their\nbreath. When it came, Fritz and Franz were sitting over the fire\nmunching their last piece of black bread, and grumbling to each other\nas was their custom, while Hans, seated on the bed beside his mother,\nwas telling her about what he saw and what he fancied when he was in\nthe forest. Fritz was the first to recover himself, and he growled\nout, in his usual surly tone, \"Come in.\" The door opened, and a\ngentleman entered. From his green dress, the gun that he carried in\nhis hand, and the game-bag slung by his side, they saw that he was a\nhuntsman, who had been amusing himself with shooting the game with\nwhich the forest abounded.\n\n\"Good morning, good friends,\" he said, in a cheerful tone. \"Could you\nprovide me with a cup of water and a mouthful of something to eat? I\nhave forgotten to bring anything with me, and am ravenously hungry,\nand far from home.\"\n\nFritz and Franz first threw a scowling glance from under their\neyebrows at the stranger by way of reply, then gave a grunt, and\ncontinued munching at their hunks of bread. Hans, however, was more\npolite. The only seats in the hut were occupied by Fritz and Franz,\nand as they showed no disposition to move, Hans dragged a log of wood\nfrom a corner and placed it before the visitor, and invited him to sit\ndown. Then he produced a cup, scrupulously clean indeed, but sadly\ncracked and chipped, and, running outside, he filled it from a spring\nof delicious, cool water, which rose near the hut. As he had been busy\ntalking to his mother, he had had no time to eat his share of the\nblack bread, and so he handed his coarse crust to the stranger, saying\nhe was sorry that there was nothing better to offer him.\n\n\"Thank you,\" said the stranger, courteously. \"Hunger is the best\nsauce. There is no lunch I like so well as this.\" And he set to work\nwith such a good will that, in a very short time, poor Hans's crust\nhad vanished, and there was nothing left before the stranger but a few\ncrumbs of bread on the table, and a few drops of water in the cup.\nThese he kneaded carelessly together into a little pellet, about the\nsize of a pea, while Hans told him, in answer to his questions, all\nabout their lonely life in the forest, and the hardships which they\nhad to endure.\n\nWhen the stranger rose to go he said, \"Well, I thank you heartily for\nyour hospitality--now I will give you a word of advice. One of you\nlads should go and seek the sparkling golden water, which turns\neverything it touches into gold.\"\n\nFritz and Franz pricked up their ears at this, and both at once\ndemanded where this sparkling golden water was to be found. The\nstranger turned toward them, courteously, although these were the\nfirst words they had spoken since his entrance, and replied:\n\n\"The sparkling golden water is to be found in the forest of dead\ntrees, on the farther side of those blue mountains, which you may see\non any clear day in the far distance. It is a three weeks' journey on\nfoot from here.\"\n\nThen, bowing to his hosts, he stepped toward the door. Hans, however,\nwas there first, and opened it for him. Obeying a sign from the\nstranger, Hans followed him a little way from the hut. Then the\nstranger, taking from his pocket the little black bread pellet, said,\n\"I know, because you gave me your dinner, that you will have to go\nhungry. I have no money to offer you, but here is something that will\nbe of far greater value to you than money. Keep this pellet carefully,\nand when you seek the sparkling golden water, as I know you will,\ndon't forget to bring it with you. Now go back: you must follow me no\nfarther.\" So saying, the stranger waved his hand to Hans, and,\nplunging into the thicket, disappeared. Hans slipped the pellet into\nhis pocket and re-entered the hut, where he found his brothers in loud\ndispute about the sparkling golden water. They were much too\ninterested in the matter to pay any attention to Hans or to ask him,\nas he was afraid they would, whether the stranger had given him any\nmoney before he left. As he came in, he heard Fritz saying in a loud\nvoice:\n\n\"I'm the eldest, and I will go first to get the sparkling golden\nwater. When I've got it I will buy all the land hereabouts and become\nCount. I will hunt every day, and have lots of good wine; and\nsometimes, if I'm passing near here, I'll just look in to see how you\nall are, and to show you my fine clothes, and horses, and dogs, and\nservants.\" Fritz was, for him, almost gracious at the bright prospect\nbefore him.\n\n\"I don't care whether you're the eldest or not,\" growled Franz,\nstubbornly, \"I shall go, too, to find the sparkling golden water. When\nI've found it I will buy the Burgomaster's office, and live in his\nhouse in the town yonder, and wear his fur robes and gold chain; and,\nbest of all, walk at the head of all the grand processions. None of\nyour wild hunting for me--give me ease and comfort.\"\n\nAt last it was decided, after a great deal of squabbling, that Fritz\nas the eldest should go first in search of the sparkling golden water,\nand accordingly next day he set out. Hans ventured to hint that the\nfirst thing to be done with this sparkling golden water when it was\nfound should be to provide a comfortable home for their mother, but\nFritz's only answer to this was a blow, and an angry order to Hans to\nmind his own business.\n\nWe cannot follow Fritz all the way on his journey. As he had no money\nhe was forced to beg at the doors of the cottages and farmhouses which\nhe passed, for food and shelter for the night. Now, this proved to be\nrather hard work, because nobody very much liked his looks or his\nmanner; and people only gave him spare scraps now and then in order to\nget him to go away as soon as possible. However, he found himself, at\nlast, approaching the forest of dead trees. He knew that it was the\nforest, although there was nobody there to tell him so. He had not, in\nfact, seen any human being for the last three days, but he felt that\nhe could not be mistaken. A vast forest of enormous trees lifted\nleafless, sapless branches to the sky, and every breath of wind\nrattled them together like the bones of a skeleton. When he was about\ntwenty yards from the forest a terrible sound came from it. It was as\nthough a thousand horses were neighing and screaming all at once.\nFritz's heart stood still. He wanted to run away, but his legs refused\nto move. As he stood there, shaking and quaking, there rushed out of\nthe forest a huge unicorn with a spiral golden horn on his forehead.\n\n\"What seek you here?\" asked the unicorn, in a voice of thunder. Fritz\nstammered out that he sought the sparkling golden water.\n\n\"What want you with the sparkling golden water, which is in my\ncharge?\" thundered the unicorn.\n\nFritz was almost too frightened to speak. He fell on his knees, put up\nhis hands, and cried: \"Oh, good Mr. Unicorn, oh, kind Mr. Unicorn,\npray don't hurt me!\"\n\nThe unicorn stamped furiously on the ground with his right forefoot.\n\"Say this instant,\" he cried, \"what it is that you want with the\nsparkling golden water!\"\n\n\"I want to get money to buy land and become a Count,\" Fritz was just\nable to gasp out. The unicorn said nothing; he simply lowered his\nhead, and with his golden horn tossed Fritz three hundred and\nforty-five feet in the air. Up went Fritz like a sky-rocket, and down\nhe came like its stick, turning somersaults all the way. Fortunately\nfor him, his fall was broken by the branches of one of the dead trees.\nIf it had not been for this he would probably have been seriously\nhurt. Through these branches he crashed until he reached the point\nwhere they joined the trunk. The tree was hollow here, and Fritz\ntumbled down to the bottom of the trunk and found himself a prisoner.\nWhile he was feeling his arms and legs, to find out if any bones were\nbroken or not, he had the satisfaction of hearing the unicorn, as he\ntrotted back into the forest, muttering, loud enough for his words to\npierce the bark and wood of Fritz's prison:--\n\n\"So much for you and your Countship!\"\n\nFritz tried to get out, but in vain. The tree was too smooth and\nslippery and high for him to be able to clamber up, and he only hurt\nhimself every time he attempted to escape. There was nothing for it,\nthen, but for him to lie down and howl. He had to satisfy his hunger\nas best he might, by eating the stray worms and woodlice and fungi,\nwhich he found creeping, crawling, and growing round about the roots\nof the tree. We will leave him there for the present and return to the\nothers.\n\nFranz, Hans, and their mother waited and waited for Fritz to come\nback. Hans and his mother could not believe it possible that, when he\nhad secured the sparkling golden water, he would leave them in their\npoverty. Franz, on the other hand, judging Fritz by himself, thought\nthat nothing was more likely. And Franz was most probably right. Six\nweeks was the shortest time in which Fritz could be home again.\n\"Unless,\" said Hans, \"he buys a horse and rides back, as he will be\nvery well able to do when he has got the sparkling golden water.\" But\nsix weeks passed, and two months, and three months, and no Fritz,\neither on horseback or afoot. Then Franz's patience came to an end. He\nmust needs go, too.\n\n\"I won't wait here starving any longer,\" said he; \"Fritz has forgotten\nall about us. I'll get the sparkling golden water and become\nBurgomaster.\" So off he set, following the same road as Fritz, and\nmeeting with much the same difficulties. They were, however, rather\ngreater in his case than in his brother's. Folk remembered the\nill-conditioned Fritz only too well, and Franz was so like him in\nlooks and manner, that they shut the door in his face the moment he\nappeared, and ran upstairs and called out from the top windows of\ntheir houses, \"Go away! There's nothing for you here. The big dog's\nloose in the yard. Go away, charcoal-burner.\"\n\nHowever, by dint of perseverance, in which to say the truth he was not\nlacking, Franz, very hungry and sulky, reached the verge of the forest\nof dead trees. Out came the unicorn and asked his business. On Franz\nreplying that he wanted the sparkling golden water in order to buy the\nhouse and post of Burgomaster, the unicorn tossed him into the air,\nand he tumbled into the same tree as Fritz. Then the unicorn trotted\nback into the forest, muttering, for Franz's benefit: \"So much for you\nand your Burgomastership!\"\n\nWhen Fritz and Franz found themselves thus closely confined in the\nsame prison, they, instead of making the best of each other's company,\nas sensible brothers would have done, fell to quarrelling and\nfighting, until at last neither would speak to the other, and that\nstate of sulky silence they maintained all the time of their\ncaptivity.\n\nThe months passed by, but no news came to Hans and his mother of Fritz\nand Franz. Meanwhile Hans found that it became daily more difficult\nfor him to earn enough money to support two people. Moreover, he saw\nthat his mother was growing weaker, and he feared that she would die\nunless she had proper food and nourishment. At last he said:\n\n\"Mother, if there were only some one to take care of you, I would go\nin search of Fritz and Franz. You may be sure they have got the\nsparkling golden water by this time. They would never refuse me a few\nguldern, if I were to ask them and tell them how ill you are.\"\n\nBut Hans's mother did not at all like the idea of his leaving her, and\nshe begged and prayed him not to go. He felt obliged, therefore, to\nsubmit, and stayed on for a little longer, until at last even his\nmother saw that they must either starve or do as Hans suggested. Most\nfortunately at this time there dropped in to see them another\ncharcoal-burner, whom Hans used to call \"Uncle Stoltz,\" although he\nwas no uncle at all, but only a good-natured neighbour and an old\nfriend of Hans's father. Uncle Stoltz strongly urged the mother to let\nher boy go in search of his brothers, adding, although he was nearly\nas poor as they were themselves:\n\n\"You come and live with me and my wife. While we have a crust to\ndivide you shan't want.\"\n\nSo Hans's mother gave a reluctant consent, and went to live with Uncle\nStoltz, while Hans went out in search of his brothers. By making\ninquiries he easily found the road which they had taken, but nobody\never thought of shutting the door in his face. On the contrary, his\npolite manners and cheerful looks made him a welcome guest at every\ncottage and farmstead at which he stopped. At last he, too, found\nhimself on the verge of the forest of dead trees and face to face with\nthe golden-horned unicorn. But Hans was not to be frightened as his\nbrothers had been by the terrible voice and awe-striking appearance of\nthe guardian of the fountain. In reply to the usual question, given in\nthe usual tone of thunder: \"What seek you here?\" Hans replied, coolly,\n\"I seek my brothers, Fritz and Franz.\"\n\n\"They are where you will never find them,\" said the unicorn, \"so go\nhome again.\"\n\n\"If I cannot find my brothers,\" said Hans, firmly, \"I will not go home\nwithout the sparkling golden water.\"\n\n\"What want you with the sparkling golden water, which is in my\ncharge?\" asked the unicorn, in his terrible voice.\n\n\"I want to buy food and wine and comforts for my mother; who is very\nill,\" answered Hans, undaunted. But his eyes filled with tears as he\nthought of his mother.\n\nThe unicorn spoke more gently.\n\n\"Have you,\" he asked, \"the crystal ball? Because without it I cannot\nallow you to pass to the sparkling golden water.\"\n\n\"The crystal ball!\" echoed Hans. \"I never heard of such a thing.\"\n\n\"That's a pity,\" said the unicorn, gravely; \"I'm afraid you will have\nto go home without the water; but, stay, feel in your pockets. You may\nhave had the ball, and put it somewhere, and have forgotten all about\nit.\"\n\nHans smiled at the idea of the crystal ball lying, unknown to him, in\nhis pockets, but he followed the suggestion of the unicorn; and found,\nas he knew he should find, nothing at all, except, indeed, the pellet\nof black bread which the stranger-huntsman had given him, and which he\nhad not thought of from that day to this. \"No,\" he said to the\nunicorn, \"I have nothing in my pocket, except this pellet,\" and he was\nabout to throw it away when the unicorn called out to him to stop.\n\n\"Let me see it,\" he said. \"Why,\" he went on, \"this is the crystal\nball--look!\"\n\nHans did look, and sure enough he found in his hand a tiny globe of\ncrystal. He examined it with amazement. \"Well,\" he said, \"all I know\nis that a second ago it was a black-bread pellet.\"\n\n\"That may be,\" said the unicorn, carelessly; \"anyhow, it is a crystal\nball now, and the possession of it makes me your servant. It is my\nduty to carry you to the fountain of sparkling golden water, if you\nwish to go. Have you brought a flask with you?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Hans. \"Fritz took the only flask we had, and Franz an old\nbottle.\"\n\n\"Fritz, eh? Well, follow me a little way.\" So saying, the unicorn led\nHans to the tree in which his brothers were imprisoned and, motioning\nhim to be silent, cried out:\n\n\"Ho! Master Count, throw out the flask you have with you, if you\nplease: it is wanted.\"\n\n\"'Shan't,\" growled Fritz's voice in reply, \"unless you promise to let\nme out.\"\n\n\"Oh, you won't, won't you?\" said the unicorn; \"well, we'll see.\"\n\nWith that he drew back a few steps, and then, running forward, thrust\nhis sharp horn into the side of the hollow trunk from which Fritz's\nvoice had issued. A loud yell came from the spot, showing that the\nhorn had run into some tender part of Fritz's body, and at the same\ninstant, the flask appeared flying out of the hole in the tree by\nwhich Fritz and Franz had entered.\n\n\"That's right,\" said the unicorn, \"now we shall do comfortably. Get on\nmy back, grasp my mane tightly, hold your breath, and shut your eyes.\"\n\n\"If you please,\" said Hans, \"will you set Fritz and Franz free first?\"\n\nThe unicorn looked annoyed. \"They are doing very well there,\" he said;\n\"why should you disturb them? But you're my master, and I must do as\nyou please. Only, take my word, you will be sorry for this afterward.\"\n\nWith that he went to the tree and, with one or two powerful blows with\nhis horn, made a hole large enough for the unhappy prisoners to creep\nout. Two more sheepish, miserable wretches than those half-starved\nbrothers of his, Hans had never seen. They fell at his feet and\nthanked him again and again for delivering them. They promised never\nto do anything unkind or selfish again, and each assured Hans that he\nhad always liked him far more than he had liked the other brother.\n\nTheir protestations of affection rather disgusted Hans, only, as he\nwas a good-hearted boy himself, he could not help being moved by them.\nHe then told his brothers in what state he had left his mother, and\nhow he was to be taken by the unicorn to get the sparkling golden\nwater.\n\n\"Oh!\" cried the brothers, \"can't you take us, too?\"\n\nThe unicorn thought it time to interfere. \"No one can be taken there,\nbut the owner of the crystal ball,\" he said. \"Come, master, it is time\nfor you to mount.\"\n\nHans clambered nimbly into his seat on the unicorn's back. \"Wait for\nme here,\" he called out to his brothers. \"I shall not be long.\" Then\nHans shut his eyes, held his breath, and grasped the unicorn tightly\nby the mane. It was as well that he did so, for the unicorn gave a\nbound that carried him over the tops of the highest trees, and would\ncertainly have thrown him off unless he had been very firmly seated.\nThree such bounds did he take, and then he paused and said to Hans,\n\"Now you may open your eyes.\" Hans found himself in a desolate, rocky\nvalley, without a trace of vegetation--unless the forest of dead\ntrees, which clothed the valley on every side, might be taken as\nvegetation. In the midst of the valley there sprang up a fountain of\nwater, which sparked with such intense brilliancy that Hans was unable\nat first to look upon it.\n\n\"There, master,\" said the unicorn, turning his head, \"this is the\nfountain of sparkling golden water. Dismount, and fill your flask. But\ntake care that you do not allow your hand to touch the water. If it\ndoes it will be turned into gold, and will never become flesh and\nblood again.\"\n\nHans slipped from his seat and, flask in hand, approached the\nfountain. The ground on which he walked was sand, but as he drew\nnearer the fountain, he noticed that the sand kept growing brighter\nuntil he felt that he was walking upon what he guessed rightly to be\nveritable gold dust Hans thrust a handful of this dust into his\npocket, and also one or two moderate-sized stones that he found,\nwhich, like the sand, had been changed, by the spray coming from the\nfountain, into pure gold. He tried to be as careful as possible in\nfilling the flask; but, notwithstanding all his care, the top joint of\nhis little finger touched the water, and in an instant became gold.\nHowever, he had his flask full of sparkling golden water, the flask\nitself now, of course, golden, and he felt that the top joint of his\nlittle finger was a small price to pay for all this.\n\n\"Now, master,\" said the unicorn when Hans got back, \"do you still\nintend to return to those brothers of yours? Or shall I put you out of\nthe forest at some other point?\"\n\n\"Certainly,\" replied Hans; \"I intend to return to them. You heard them\nsay how sorry they were for all the unkindness they had shown to my\nmother and me. I know they mean to do better for the future. Besides,\nI promised them to come back.\"\n\nThe unicorn said nothing, but grunted in a discouraging manner, and\nmotioned to Hans to get on his back. When he was seated the unicorn\nsaid:\n\n\"Since this is your wish, you must have it. I have, however, three\npieces of advice to give you. On your way home your brothers will\noffer to carry the flask--do not let them do so; also do not let them\nget behind you for a moment; and thirdly, guard the crystal ball with\nthe utmost care. I can't go with you beyond the verge of the forest of\ndead trees. One visit, and only one, is permitted to the fountain. You\ntherefore can never come here again. But if ever you need me sorely,\ncrush the crystal ball, and I will be with you. Now shut your eyes, we\nmust be off.\"\n\nThree bounds brought them to the side of Fritz and Franz; and Hans\nhaving thanked the unicorn warmly for his kindness, the three brothers\nbegan to retrace their steps homeward. Now, during Hans's absence at\nthe fountain, Fritz and Franz had been devising how they might rob him\nof the flask of sparkling golden water.\n\n\"It is disgusting,\" they said to one another, \"that this wretched\nlittle Hans should beat us both. He will only waste the water in\nbuying things for his mother, while it would make us Count and\nBurgomaster.\"\n\nAs soon, therefore, as they were out of sight of the unicorn, Fritz\nand Franz begged and prayed Hans to allow one of them to carry the\nflask.\n\n\"You've had all the trouble of getting the water,\" they said; \"we\nought at least to be allowed the honour of helping you carry it.\nBesides, are we not your servants now that you are so rich? It is not\nsuitable for you to do all the work.\" But Hans remembered the\nunicorn's words, and held firmly to his flask.\n\n\"No,\" he said, \"thank you; but I'll carry it myself.\" Then Fritz and\nFranz pretended to get sulky and tried to drop behind, but Hans would\nnot allow this, either. The consequence was that the three made very\nslow progress homeward. Toward the evening they came to a deep stream,\nwhich they had to re-cross. It was only fordable at one point, as they\nall knew, because they had, of course, already crossed it before. Hans\nstood aside to allow Fritz and Franz to go on first, but each of them\nwent in a little way, and ran back, saying that they were afraid of\nbeing drowned.\n\n\"What nonsense,\" said Hans, who was getting a little impatient at the\ndelay; \"it's quite shallow,\" and, forgetting the unicorn's warning, he\nentered the stream first. Fritz and Franz did not miss the\nopportunity. Each took a large stone and struck Hans violently on the\nhead. Then as he fell back senseless into the water, Fritz snatched\nthe flask from off the belt to which it was attached, and Franz thrust\nwith his foot Hans's body farther into the river, so that the current\nshould carry it away, and, laughing at their own cleverness, the two\nproceeded to cross the ford.\n\nNow, naturally enough, lads like Fritz and Franz do not care to trust\neach other very far. As soon, therefore, as they reached the other\nside of the stream, Franz produced his bottle, and demanded of Fritz\nhis share of the sparkling golden water. Fritz, who intended to keep\nit all to himself, proposed that they should put off sharing it till\nlater. Franz would not hear of this. He knew, only too well, what\nFritz intended. This led to a wrangle, which ended in a fight between\nthe two, in which the sparkling golden water was spilled, partly over\nFritz's right hand, and the remainder over Franz's left foot. The\nbrothers first realized what had happened to them by Fritz finding\nthat he could not close his fist to strike, and Franz finding that he\ncould not raise his foot to kick. The discovery sobered them in an\ninstant. There they stood, one with a hand and the other with a foot\nof solid gold, and the golden flask with them; but the water, the\nprecious sparkling golden water, lost forever. Fritz was the first to\nrecover himself.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, \"thank goodness I have a couple of feet left me. I\nshall be off, I can't wait for you. You must hobble on as best you\ncan, or stay here and starve,\" and he was on the point of leaving\nFranz to his fate, when the latter caught him by the collar.\n\n\"If I've only one foot, I have two hands,\" cried he, \"and I don't\nintend to let you leave me behind. No, no; we must go together or not\nat all.\"\n\nFritz was obliged to submit, as it was a case of two hands against\none; and he and Franz, arm in arm as though they were the most\naffectionate brothers, made their way slowly to the nearest town.\nThere they had to submit to have hand and foot cut off. The operation\nhurt them very much indeed, but they sold the gold for a good sum of\nmoney to the goldsmith. With that, and with what they got for the\nflask, Fritz was able to buy his Countship, although he could never\nhunt owing to the loss of his right hand, and Franz was able to buy\nhis Burgomastership, although the loss of his foot prevented his\nwalking properly in processions. Neither of them, of course, gave a\nthought to their mother.\n\nNow we must return to poor Hans, whom we left floating down the\nstream--senseless, and to all appearance dead. He was not dead,\nhowever, although the blows which his brothers had inflicted were very\nsevere ones. He was only stunned, and fortunately he did not float far\nenough to be drowned. His body came into a back eddy of the stream\nand drifted gently on to a shelving bank of white sand. The cold water\nsoon had the effect of bringing him to his senses so far as to enable\nhim to crawl on to the land. It was, however, some hours before he was\nable to recall the past events. When he remembered them he gave way to\ndespair. All the pains he had taken to win the sparkling golden water\nwere thrown away. He might not return to get more--the unicorn had\ntold him that. His mother would be as badly off as ever. Above all, he\nhad the bitter disappointment of feeling that his brothers had\ndeceived him. Then he bethought him of the crystal ball. Taking it\nfrom his pocket, he placed it on a large stone, and taking another\nstone struck it with all his force. A report like that of a cannon\nfollowed, and at the same instant the unicorn stood before him.\n\n\"I warned you of what would happen,\" he said to Hans. \"You would have\ndone much better if you had left your brothers in the tree. Now let me\nsee what can be done for you. First of all, rub that dockleaf, which\nis touching your right hand, on the wound in your head.\" Hans did as\nhe was told, and his head became as sound as ever. \"Now,\" said the\nunicorn, \"you must go straight home to your mother and bring her to\nthe city of White Towers, and stay there till you hear from me again.\"\n\n\"But,\" said Hans, with tears in his eyes, \"how can I do that? My\nmother is much too ill to move, and I have lost the sparkling golden\nwater which was to have made her well and strong.\"\n\n\"Did not I see you,\" asked the unicorn, \"put some sand and stones of\npure gold into your pocket as you went to the fountain? There will be\nmore than enough to meet all your expenses. Do as I tell you,\" and the\nunicorn, saying this, disappeared.\n\nHans, greatly cheered, set off once more, and finished his journey\nhome without any further adventures. The gold that he had with him,\nnot only enabled him to provide the comforts and necessaries which his\nmother required, but he was able also to reward Uncle Stoltz for his\nkindness. When his mother was strong enough to travel, Hans hired a\nwagon, and they set off by easy stages for the city of White Towers,\nthere to await further news from the unicorn.\n\nNow, the city of White Towers was at that time attracting from far and\nwide every one who wanted to make his fortune. The Princess of the\ncity was the loveliest Princess in the world, and the richest and the\nmost powerful. She had given out that she would marry any one, whoever\nit might be, king or beggar, who would tell her truly in the morning\nthe dream that she had dreamed in the night. But whoever should\ncompete and fail, was to forfeit all his fortune, be whipped through\nthe streets and out of the gate, and banished from the city on pain of\ndeath. If, however, he had no fortune to forfeit, he was to be whipped\nback again and sold into slavery. The terms were hard; but many tried\nand failed, and many more, undeterred by the punishment which they\nconstantly saw being inflicted on the others, were waiting their turn\nto compete. Among these latter were Count Fritz and Burgomaster Franz.\nThese two met very often in the streets of the city, but they could\nnever forget their quarrel over the sparkling golden water and when\nthey met they always looked in opposite directions. Now, Fritz and\nFranz had made themselves hated by all with whom they had to deal;\nFritz by his tyranny over the poor in the district in which his\nproperty lay, and Franz by his injustice as Burgomaster. The former\nused to grind down his people so as to extract the last penny from\nthem; the latter used to make his judgments depend on the amount of\nbribe he received from the suitors. Everybody, therefore, hoped that\nboth Fritz and Franz would fail to tell the Princess her dreams, and\nwould have to pay the penalty.\n\nHans and his mother arrived at the city of White Towers on the evening\nbefore the day on which Fritz was to try his fortune. They heard on\nall sides that the \"One-armed Count,\" as he was called, was to be the\nnext competitor; but, of course, they had no idea that this \"One-armed\nCount\" was Fritz. The consequence was that, when they found themselves\nnext day in the great square, where the whole population of the city\nassembled to see the trial, they were amazed beyond measure to see\nFritz, marching jauntily along, quite confident of success, dressed in\nhis very smartest clothes, to the platform on which the Princess and\nher ladies and her courtiers were assembled, Fritz felt sure that he\nwould win, for this reason: There was an old woman living in a cottage\nnear his castle, who was said to be a witch. Fritz had ordered her to\nbe seized and put to the most cruel tortures, in order to force her to\nsay what the Princess was going to dream on the night before the day\nfixed for his trial. This was very silly of him, as the old woman\nmight be a witch ten times over, and yet not be able to tell him that.\nBut cruel, wicked people often are silly. This poor old woman screamed\nout some nonsense in her agony which Fritz took to be the answer he\nrequired. He smiled, therefore, in a self-confident fashion as he\nbowed low before the princess and awaited her question. She asked it\nin a clear bell-like voice, which somehow caused Hans's heart, when he\nheard it, to beat a good deal quicker than before.\n\n\"Sir Count, what did I dream last night?\"\n\n\"Your Highness dreamed,\" was the reply, \"that the moon came down to\nearth and kissed you.\"\n\nThe princess gently shook her head, and in a moment Fritz found\nhimself in the hands of her guards, with his coat stripped off his\nback, and his hands bound behind him. The first lash made him cry for\nmercy; but the Princess had already gone, and the soldiers, whose duty\nit was to inflict the whipping, were not much disposed to show mercy\nto the \"One-armed Count.\" They laid on their blows well, driving the\nunlucky Fritz through the streets till the gate was reached, through\nwhich, with a final shower of blows, he was thrust, with the warning\nnot to return thither, but to beg his way henceforth through the\nworld. Of all who watched the proceedings, none seemed so delighted\nwith the result as Franz. He followed, hobbling after his unhappy\nbrother as close as the soldiers would allow, and kept jeering and\nlaughing at him all the way. This was easy for him to do,\nnotwithstanding the fact that he had to go on crutches, because good\ncare was taken to make Fritz's progress through the streets as slow as\npossible. In addition, therefore, to the blows, Fritz had to endure\nthe sight of Franz's grinning face, and to listen to such remarks as:\n\"Who thought he was going to win the Princess?\"--\"Will your Highness\nremember your poor brother, the Burgomaster?\"--\"Who lost the sparkling\ngolden water?\"--and so on.\n\nWith very different feelings had Hans watched the proceedings. When he\nsaw his brother stripped for beating, he forgot all about the wrongs\nhe had sustained, and only thought what he could do to help the\nsufferer. He tried to bribe the soldiers to deal gently with Fritz;\nbut when he found it was of no avail, he hastened to the city gate so\nas to meet his brother outside and comfort him when the punishment was\nover. Hans found Fritz, as indeed was natural under the circumstances,\nmore surly and ill-tempered than ever. He appeared startled for a\nmoment at seeing Hans, whom he thought dead, alive and well; but he\nset to work blubbering again immediately, and rubbing his back with\nhis one hand. Hans gave him what money he could afford, which Fritz\ntook without saying \"Thank you,\" and went his way.\n\nNext day it was Franz's turn to try and win the Princess. Franz felt\njust as certain of succeeding as Fritz had been. A certain necromancer\nin Franz's town had been a party in a suit which came before the\nBurgomaster's court. All the evidence which was brought forward told\nagainst him, but the necromancer promised Franz, as a bribe, if he\nwould decide in his favour, to tell him by means of his art the true\nsecret of the Princess's dream. Franz swallowed the bait greedily, and\ngave his unjust decision. Now, in order that the necromancer might not\nfail him, Franz had determined not to let him out of his sight till\nthe day of trial. Very early in the morning of that day the\nnecromancer came to Franz and said: \"Last night the Princess dreamed\nso-and-so--will your worship allow me to go away now?\" Franz, on\nhearing the dream, skipped with delight, forgetting about his one\nfoot, and tumbled down on the floor. However, he did not mind that,\nand gave the necromancer leave to depart; which that worthy did in\ngreat haste. Franz was so impatient that he was in his place, in front\nof the platform, long before the Princess arrived. He could hardly\nwait for her to put the formal question before he blurted out:\n\n\"Your Highness dreamed that you were walking in your garden, and that\nall the trees and shrubs bore gold and silver leaves.\"\n\nThe Princess shook her head. \"A very pretty dream,\" she said; \"but it\nwas not mine.\" So Franz had to suffer the same punishment as Fritz,\nand nobody was at all sorry. He was likewise thrust out of the city\ngate, bawling between his howls for some one to bring him the\nnecromancer. Hans found him there, and tried to comfort him, as he had\ntried to comfort Fritz, and with about the same result. When Hans had\nreturned to the inn, where he and his mother were staying, he was met\nwith the news that a stranger was waiting to see him. He went in and\nfound the huntsman who had given him the pellet which turned into the\ncrystal ball.\n\n\"Hans,\" said the huntsman, as soon as Hans entered the room, \"the\nunicorn has sent me to you. It's your turn now to try to win the\nPrincess.\"\n\nHans turned pale at the thought.\n\n\"I would give my life to win her,\" he said, earnestly, \"but I am\ncertain to fail, and then what will my poor mother do? I have no\nproperty to be confiscated, and, of course, I shall be sold into\nslavery.\"\n\n\"Don't talk of failure,\" said the huntsman cheerily; \"the way to\nsuccess is to forget that there is such a word as failure. Now I'll\ntell you my plan. The Princess, as you know, or as you very likely\ndon't know, is devoted to curious animals of all kinds. I will change\nyou into a white mouse with a gold claw, and will offer you to the\nPrincess for sale. She has never seen or heard of such a creature as a\nwhite mouse with a gold claw before, and will be sure to buy you. Then\nit will be your fault if matters don't go smoothly with you. You have\nonly to keep your ears open and use your wits. Now, first of all, we\nmust enter you for to-morrow's competition.\"\n\nHans longed to try his luck with the Princess, and as this plan seemed\na promising one--indeed, it was the only one he could think of--he\nagreed to try it. However, he determined not to tell his mother\nanything about the matter, as he knew how terrified she would be at\nthe thought of his failure. The first thing, as the huntsman had said,\nwas for him to present himself to the Princess as candidate for her\nhand. He accordingly did so, and found her seated on her throne,\nsurrounded by the lords and ladies of her court, glittering in jewels\nand dressed in magnificent apparel. Hans felt rather shy as he marched\nup the splendid room, amongst all these grandly dressed people, in his\nshabby old clothes; but he put as good a face on it as he could, and\nwhen he stopped before the throne and looked into the Princess's eyes,\nall his shyness vanished. He was conscious of nothing but a strong\ndetermination to win her for himself, or to perish in the attempt. The\ncourt usher announced his name and purpose in a loud tone.\n\n\"This is Hans, the charcoal-burner, who has undertaken to tell the\nPrincess her dream to-morrow morning, or to pay the penalty.\"\n\nWhen the Princess looked at Hans and saw what a nice, open-faced boy\nhe was, she did all she could to persuade him to give up the attempt.\nShe pointed out to him how many had tried and failed--how little\nchance there was of his succeeding. She could not bear, she said, to\nthink of his being whipped publicly and sold into slavery. She offered\nhim, if he would withdraw, the important post of general manager of\nthe court menagerie. But neither this offer nor the prayers of the\nPrincess could move Hans.\n\n\"Now, that I have seen you face to face, Princess,\" said he, \"I would\nrather die twenty times over than give up the undertaking.\"\n\nThe Princess was obliged to allow Hans to enter his name for\nto-morrow's trial, although it made her very unhappy. Her heart told\nher that he was the one of all her suitors whom she would most wish to\nsucceed; but she felt that he would be certain to fare as the others\nhad done; and so when the formality was over, and Hans had left, she\ndismissed the court; shut herself up in her room, and said she would\nbe at home to nobody for the rest of the day.\n\nAs soon as Hans got back, the huntsman took a cup of water, muttered\nsome strange words over it, and sprinkled Hans with the contents. He\nwas conscious of a curious change taking place in him, and before he\ncould quite make out what it was, he found that he was a white mouse\nwith a gold claw. The huntsman put him in a box and carried him to the\npalace to sell him to the Princess. When he arrived there the porter\nrefused to admit him.\n\n\"No!\" he said, \"the Princess had given out that she would see no one\nthat day. It was more than his place was worth to admit the stranger.\"\nHowever, by dint of flattering words and a handsome present slipped\ninto his hands, the porter was persuaded to send for one of the\nPrincess's ladies. When she came and saw the white mouse with the gold\nclaw, she said she was sure that her mistress would be so delighted\nwith his beautiful little curiosity that she would pardon having her\norders disobeyed for once. Only, the huntsman must remain where he\nwas; she would take the white mouse to the Princess herself. To this\nthe Huntsman consented; and the long and short of it was that the\nPrincess sent him a handsome sum for the mouse; and Hans found himself\nestablished as her newest favourite. The Princess was so pleased with\nher pet that, when she went to bed, she placed him in a cabinet in her\nroom, the door of which she left open--because he was so tame that she\nhad no fear of his attempting to run away. Hans was wondering how he\nwas to find out the Princess's dream in this situation, when his\nmistress woke up, laughing heartily, and called for her lady in\nwaiting to come to her.\n\n\"I've had such a curious dream,\" she said. \"I dreamed that I was\nmarried to a man with a golden top-joint to his little finger. I\nsuppose that it was the white mouse with the gold claw which put the\nidea into my head. But,\" and here the Princess's voice grew very sad,\n\"how will that poor boy ever guess this dream to-morrow?\"\n\nHans waited impatiently for all to be quiet, then he slipped out of\nhis cabinet, and finding the door shut, ran up the curtain of the\nwindow, which was fortunately open, and getting on a rose which\nclambered up outside the wall, ran down it and made the best of his\nway to the inn. There he found the huntsman waiting for him, to whom\nhe told all that had taken place, and who in a few seconds changed him\nback to his own shape.\n\nAn enormous concourse of people was assembled next day to see the\ntrial. Very pale and sad the Princess looked as she sat prepared to\nput the question to Hans. He waited respectfully till she had spoken,\nand then, without saying a word, held out his hand to her. Her eye\nfell on the golden top-joint of his little finger. She cried out with\ndelight, and, seizing his hand in hers, turned to the people and said:\n\"Hans has guessed right, and he shall be my husband.\"\n\nAnd all the people raised a glad shout, \"Long live Prince Hans!\"\n\n\"Oh!\" said the Princess to Hans, \"how I wish my brother were here to\nshare our happiness!\"\n\n\"He is here,\" said the huntsman, who had thrust his way to the front;\nand, throwing off his huntsman's disguise, he appeared dressed as a\nPrince. Then, turning to Hans, he said:\n\n\"A mighty magician, the enemy of our family, condemned me, because I\nwould not give him my sister in marriage, to take the form of a\nunicorn, and to guard the sparkling golden water. Twice every year,\nfor a fortnight at a time, I was allowed to resume my human shape. It\nwas then that I came to your hut in the forest, and gave you the token\nby which to win your way to the fountain. The spell laid upon me was\nonly to be raised when some one guessed aright my sister's dream, and\nso won her to wife. Thanks to you, brother Hans, the magician's power\nis at an end.\"\n\nHans and the Princess were married, and after the ceremony the Prince\nwent off to his own kingdom. Hans's mother had a beautiful suite of\napartments in the palace assigned to her, and Uncle Stoltz was not\nforgotten, but was provided for comfortably for life; and they all\nlived happily ever afterward.\n\nAs for Fritz and Franz, they were so selfish and cruel, that there was\nnothing to be done with them but to send them back into the forest\nagain to burn charcoal; and for all I know they are burning charcoal\nthere still.\n\n\n\n\n_Destiny_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there were two brothers who lived together in the\nsame household. One attended to everything, while the other was an\nindolent fellow, who occupied himself only with eating and drinking.\nTheir harvests were always magnificent; they had cattle, horses,\nsheep, pigs, bees, and all other things in great abundance.\n\nThe elder, who did everything about the estate, said to himself one\nday:\n\n\"Why should I toil for this lazy fellow? It would be better that we\nshould separate. I will work for myself alone, and he can do whatever\nhe pleases.\" So he said to his brother:\n\n\"Brother, it is unjust that I should take charge of all whilst thou\nwilt aid me in nothing, and thinkest only of eating and drinking. It\nis better that we should part.\"\n\nThe other tried to turn him from his project, saying:\n\n\"Brother, do not do this. We get on so well together. Thou hast all in\nthy hands--not only what is thine, but what is mine, and thou knowest\nthat I am always contented with what thou doest, and with what thou\norderest.\"\n\nBut the elder persisted in his resolution so firmly that the younger\nwas obliged to give up, and said:\n\n\"Since it is so I have no ill-will toward thee. Make the division as\nseemeth good to thee.\"\n\nThe division made, each one ordered his life as he thought good. The\nindolent brother took a herder for his cattle and horses, a shepherd\nfor his sheep, a goatherd for his goats, a swineherd for his pigs, a\nkeeper for his bees, and said to each of them:\n\n\"I confide my goods to thee, and may God watch over thee.\"\n\nAnd he continued to live in his house without any more care he had\never done.\n\nThe elder on the contrary laboured for his half of the property as\nmuch as he had ever done for the common good. He kept his herds\nhimself, having an eye on everything, but in spite of all his care he\nhad ill success on every side.\n\nFrom day to day everything turned out badly with him, so that at last\nhe became so poor that he had not even a pair of sandals, and was\nobliged to go barefooted. Then he said to himself:\n\n\"I will go to my brother's, and see how the world wags with him.\"\n\nHis way led him across a meadow where a flock of sheep was grazing,\nand as he drew near he saw that the sheep had no shepherd. Near them,\nhowever, a beautiful young girl was seated, spinning a thread of gold.\n\nAfter having saluted the maiden with a \"God protect thee,\" he asked\nher whose were the sheep, and she answered:\n\n\"To whom I belong, belong the sheep also.\"\n\n\"And who art thou?\" he continued.\n\n\"I am thy brother's fortune,\" she answered.\n\nThen the traveller was seized with wrath and envy, and cried out:\n\n\"And where is _my_ fortune?\"\n\nThe maiden answered him: \"Ah, she is far from thee.\"\n\n\"Can I find her?\" he asked.\n\nShe answered: \"Thou canst find her--only look for her.\"\n\nWhen he had heard these words, and saw that the sheep were so\nbeautiful that nothing finer could be imagined, he did not care to go\nfarther to see the other flocks, but went direct to his brother, who\nas soon as he had seen him took pity on him, and said, weeping:\n\n\"Why hast thou hidden thyself from me for so long a time?\"\n\nThen seeing that he was in rags and barefooted he gave him a pair of\nsandals and some money.\n\nAfter having remained three days with his brother the poor fellow\ndeparted to return home, but once arrived at the house he threw a\nsack over his shoulders, put a morsel of bread in it, took a stick in\nhis hand, and set out into the world to seek his fortune.\n\nHaving travelled a long time he found himself at last in a deep forest\nwhere he met a wretched old woman asleep in a thicket. He began to\nbeat the ground with his stick to wake up the old woman, and at last\ngave her a blow on the back. However, she scarcely moved even then,\nand half opening her drowsy eyes, said to him:\n\n\"Thou mayest thank God that I was asleep, for if I had been awake thou\nwouldst not have had those sandals.\"\n\nThen he said to her: \"Who art thou then, who wouldst have hindered me\nfrom having these sandals?\"\n\nThe old hag answered him: \"I am thy fortune.\"\n\nHearing these words he beat his breast, crying: \"What! thou art my\nfortune! May God exterminate thee! Who gave thee to me?\"\n\nAnd the old hag said to him: \"It was Destiny.\"\n\n\"Where is Destiny?\"\n\n\"Go and seek for him,\" she answered, going to sleep again.\n\nThen he departed and went to seek for Destiny.\n\nAfter a long, long journey he arrived at last at another wood, and in\nthis wood he found a hermit of whom he asked if he could not give him\nsome news of Destiny?\n\nThe hermit answered him: \"Climb that mountain, and thou wilt arrive at\nhis castle, but when thou reachest Destiny be careful not to speak to\nhim. Do only what thou seest him do, until he speaks to thee.\"\n\nThe traveller thanked the hermit, took his way up the mountain, and\nwhen he had arrived at the castle of Destiny what wonderful things he\nsaw!\n\nThe luxury was absolutely royal. There was a crowd of servants, always\nin motion and doing nothing. As for Destiny, he was supping at a\nmagnificent table. When the stranger saw this he seated himself also\nat table and ate with the master of the house. After supper Destiny\nwent to bed and the traveller did the same. Toward midnight terrible\nnoise was heard in the castle, and in the midst of the noise a voice\ncrying:\n\n\"Destiny, Destiny--so many souls have come into the world to-day. Give\nthem something at thy good pleasure.\"\n\nAnd Destiny arose, opened a golden coffer, and threw into the room a\nshower of shining ducats, saying:\n\n\"Such as I am to-day, so shall you be all your lives.\"\n\nAt daybreak the grand castle vanished, and there took its place an\nordinary house, but one in which nothing was wanting. When evening\ncame Destiny sat down to supper again, his guest did the same, and no\none spoke a word. After supper both went to bed as before.\n\nToward midnight again commenced the terrible noise in the castle, and\nin the midst of the tumult a voice crying:\n\n\"Destiny, Destiny, so many souls have seen the light to-day. Give them\nsomething at thy good pleasure.\"\n\nDestiny arose and opened a silver coffer, but this time there were no\nducats in it, only silver money mixed with a few pieces of gold.\nDestiny threw this silver upon the ground, saying:\n\n\"Such as I am to-day, so shall you be all your lives.\"\n\nAt daybreak the house had vanished, and there appeared in its place\nanother smaller one. So passed each night; each morning the house\nbecame smaller until at last it was only a miserable hut. Destiny then\ntook a spade and began to dig up the earth; his guest did the same,\nand they dug all day long. When evening came Destiny took a crust of\nhard bread, broke it in two, and gave half to his companion. This was\nall their supper, and when they had eaten they went to bed.\n\nToward midnight again commenced the terrible noise, and in the midst\nof it a voice was heard, crying:\n\n\"Destiny, Destiny, so many souls have come into the world this night.\nGive them something at thy good pleasure.\"\n\nDestiny arose, opened a coffer, and began to throw out pebbles among\nwhich were mixed some small money, saying as he did so:\n\n\"Such as I am to-day, so shall you be all your lives.\"\n\nWhen morning came the hut was changed again to a grand palace as it\nhad been on the first day. Then for the first time Destiny spoke to\nhis guest, and said to him:\n\n\"Why hast thou come to me?\"\n\nThe traveller then related his miseries in detail, and said that he\nhad come to ask of Destiny himself, why he had given him so evil a\nfortune.\n\nDestiny answered him:\n\n\"Thou didst see that the first night I sowed ducats and what followed\nthereon. Such as I am on the night when a man is born, such that man\nwill be all his life. Thou wert born on a night of poverty, and thou\nwilt remain always poor. Thy brother, on the contrary, came into the\nworld in a happy hour, and happy he will remain to the end. But since\nthou hast taken so much trouble to find me I will tell thee how thou\nmayst help thyself. Thy brother has a daughter named Miliza, who is as\nfortunate as her father. Take her for thy wife when thou shalt return\nto thine own country, and all that thou shalt acquire thereafter, be\ncareful to say belongs to her.\"\n\nThe traveller thanked Destiny many times and departed.\n\nWhen he had returned to his own country he went straight to his\nbrother, and said to him:\n\n\"Brother, give me Miliza. Thou seest that without her I am alone in\nthe world.\"\n\nAnd the brother answered: \"It pleases me well. Miliza is thine.\"\n\nStraightway the bridegroom took his brother's daughter to his house,\nand he became very rich, but he was always careful to say: \"All that I\nhave belongs to Miliza.\"\n\nOne day he went into the fields to see his wheat, which was so fine\nthat there was nothing like it in the whole country around. A\ntraveller passed along the way, and said to him:\n\n\"Whose is this wheat?\"\n\nAnd the elder brother, without thinking, answered: \"It is mine.\"\n\nBut scarcely had he spoken than a spark was seen in the wheat and in\nan instant it was all on fire. Quickly he ran after the traveller, and\ncried out:\n\n\"Stop, my friend, this wheat is not mine. It belongs to Miliza, my\nbrother's daughter.\"\n\nThe fire was instantly extinguished, and thenceforth the elder brother\nwas happy--thanks to Miliza.\n\n\n\n\n_The Queen of the Golden Mines_\n\n\nOnce on a time there was a King of Ireland, and he had three sons,\nTeddy, Billy, and Jack. Teddy and Billy were the two eldest, and they\nwere brave, able boys. But Jack was the youngest, a _gauchy_, _dawnie_\nsort of a lad that was good for nothing only feeding fowls and doing\nodd turns about the house. When they grew up to be men, Teddy and\nBilly one day said they'd go away to travel and see the world, for\nthey'd only be good-for-nothing omadhauns if they'd stay here all\ntheir lives. Their father said that was good, and so off the both of\nthem started. And that night when they halted from their travelling,\nwho does they see coming up after them, but Jack; for it seems he\ncommenced to think _long_, when he found them gone, and he was that\nlonesome that he couldn't stay behind them. And there he was dressed\nin his old tattered clothes, a spec-_tacle_ for the world, and a\ndisgrace to them; for of course, they were done off with the best of\neverything--rale gentlemen, as becomed their father's sons. They said\nto themselves they'd be long sorry to let that picthur with them--for\nhe _was_ a picthur, and no doubt of it--to be an upcast to them\nwherever they'd go. So before they started on again next mornin' they\ntied Jack to a millstone, and left him there. That night again, when\nthey went to stop from their travellin', what would you have of it but\nthere was me brave Jack once more, not a hundred parches behind them,\nand he dragging the millstone after him. Teddy and Billy said this was\ntoo bad entirely; and next day, before they started again, they tied\nanother millstone to him, and they said, \"Well, you'll not get away\nfrom here in a hurry anyhow, boy.\" So on they went again on their\njourney, laughing and cracking jokes, and telling passages, to pass\nthe time; but that night again, when they went to stop from their\njourney, lo! and behold ye, who does they see coming tearing after\nthem but my poor Jack, once more, with the two millstones dragging\nbehind him. Then they were in a quandhary entirely, and they begun to\nconsider what was best to do with him, for they saw there was no\nholdin' or tyin' of him, or keepin' him back at all, at all, for if\nthey were to tie him to a mountain in the mornin', he'd be afther them\nwith the mountain rattling at his heels again night. So they come to\nthe conclusion that it was best to take Jack with them, and purtend\nhim to be their hired boy, and not their brother at all. Of course, me\npoor Jack, that was always agreeable, was only too ready to go on\nthese terms; and on the three of them went, afore them, till at length\nthey reached the King of England's castle. When the King of England\nheard Teddy and Billy was the King of Ireland's two sons, he give them\n_cead mile failte_,[3] was plaised and proud to see them, ordhered\nthem to be made much of, then opened his hall door, an' asked in the\nnobility an' genthry of the whole counthry-side to a big dinner and\nball that he gave in their honour. But what do you have of it, but in\nthe middle of the ball doesn't Teddy have a fallout with the King of\nEngland's son, and sthruck him, and then that was the play! The hubbub\nand _hooroosh_ got up, and the King ordhered the ball to be stopped,\nand had Teddy taken pris'ner, and Billy and Jack ordhered away out of\nthe kingdom. Billy and Jack went away, vexed in their hearts at\nleaving Teddy in jail, and they travelled away till they came to\nFrance, and the King of France's castle. Here, when the King of France\nheard that Billy, the King of Ireland's son, had come to see him, he\nwent out and welcomed him, an' asked in himself and Jack to come in\nand make a visit with him. And, like the King of England, he thought\nhe couldn't make too much of the King of Ireland's sons, and threw\nopen his hall door and asked in the whole nobility and clergy and\ngenthry of all the counthry-side into a great dinner and ball given in\nBilly's honour. But lo! and behould ye, doesn't it turn up at this\nball, too, that Billy had a squabble with the King of France's son and\nstruck him, and the ball was stopped by the King's ordhers, and the\npeople sent home, and Billy taken prisoner, and there was poor Jack\nnow left all alone. The King of France, taking pity on Jack, employed\nhim as a boy. And Jack was getting along very well at Court, and the\nking and him used to have very great yarns together entirely. At\nlength a great war broke out betwixt France and Germany; and the King\nof France was in great trouble, for the Germans were slaughtering and\nconquering all before them. Says Jack, says he, to the King one day,\n\"I wish I had only half a rajimint of your men, and you'd see what I\nwould do.\" Instead of this the King gave him a whole army, and in less\nnor three days there wasn't a German alive in the whole kingdom of\nFrance. It was the king was the thankful man to Jack for this good\naction, and said he never could forget it to him. After that Jack got\ninto great favour at court, and used to have long chats with the Queen\nherself. But Jack soon found that he never could come into the Queen's\npresence that he didn't put her in tears. He asked her one day what\nwas the meaning of this, and she told him that it was because she\nnever looked on him that he didn't put her in mind of her infant son\nthat had, twelve months before, been carried away by the Queen of the\nGolden Mines, and who she had never heard tale or tidings of from that\nday to this.\n\n[Footnote 3: Hundred thousand welcomes.]\n\n\"Well, be this and be that,\" says Jack, says he, \"but I'm not the man\nto leave ye in your trouble if I can help it; and be this and be that\nover again,\" says he, \"but I won't sleep two nights in the one bed, or\neat two meals' meat in the one house, till I find out the Queen of the\nGolden Mines' Castle, and fetch back your infant son to ye--or else I\n'll not come back livin'.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" says the Queen, \"that would never do!\" and \"Ah,\" says the King,\n\"that would never do at all, at all!\" They pointed out and showed to\nhim how a hundred great knights had gone on the same errand before\nhim, and not one of them ever come back livin', and there was no use\nin him throwin' away his life, for they couldn't afford to lose him.\nBut it was all no use; Jack was bound on going, and go he would. So,\nthe very next morning he was up at cock-crow, and afther leavin'\ngood-bye with the whole of them, and leavin' the King and the Queen in\ntears, he started on his journey. And he travelled away afore him,\ninquiring his way to the Castle of the Queen of the Golden Mines; and\nhe travelled and tramped for many a weary day, and for many a weary\nweek, and for many a weary month; till at last, when it was drawing on\ntwelve months from the day he left the Castle of the King of France,\none day tor'st evening he was travelling through a thick wood, when he\nfell in with an old man, resting, with a great bundle of sticks by his\nside; and \"Me poor old man,\" says Jack, says he, \"that's a mighty\ngreat load entirely for a poor man of your years to be carryin'. Sure,\nif ye'll allow me, I'll just take them with me for ye, as far as\nyou're goin'.\"\n\n\"Blissin's on ye!\" says the ould man; \"an' an ould man's blissin' atop\nof that; an' thanky.\"\n\n\"Nobbut, thanky, yerself, for your good wishes,\" says Jack, says he,\nthrowin' the bundle of sticks on his shoulder, an' marchin' on by the\nould man's side. And they thravelled away through the wood till they\ncome at last to the ould man's cabin. And the ould man axed Jack to\ncome in and put up with him for the night, and such poor\naccommodations as he had, Jack was heartily welcome to them. Jack\nthanked him and went in and put up for the night with him, and in the\nmorning Jack told the ould man the arrand he was on and axed if he'd\ndiract him on his way to the Queen of the Golden Mines' Castle. Then\nthe ould man took out Jack, and showed him a copper castle glancing in\nthe sun, on a hill opposite, and told him that was his journey's end.\n\n\"But, me poor man,\" says he, \"I would strongly advise ye not to go\nnext or near it. A hundred knights went there afore you on the\nselfsame errand, and their heads are now stuck on a hundred spears\nright afore the castle; for there's a fiery dragon guards it that\nmakes short work of the best of them.\"\n\nBut seeing Jack wasn't to be persuaded off his entherprise nohow, he\ntook him in and gave him a sword that carried ten men's strength in it\nalong with that of the man that wielded it. And he told Jack, if he\nwas alive again' night, and not killed by the dhragon, to come back to\nhis cabin. Jack thanked him for the sword, and promised this, and then\nhe set out for the castle. But lo! and behold ye, no sooner did Jack\ncome anear the castle than a terrible great monsther of a dhragon\nentirely, the wildest ever Jack seen or heard tell of, come out from\nthe castle, and he opened his mouth as wide as the world from side to\nside, and let out a roar that started the old gray eagle on top of\nCroaghpathrick mountain at home in Ireland. Poor Jack thrimbled from\nhead to foot--and small wonder he did--but, not a bit daunted, he went\non to meet the dhragon, and no sooner were they met than he to it and\nthe dhragon to it, and they fought and sthrove long and hard, the\nwildest fight by far that poor Jack ever entered into, and they fought\nthat way from early mornin' till the sun went down, at one time Jack\nseemin' to be gettin' the betther of the dhragon, and the next minute\nthe dhragon gettin' the betther of Jack; and when the sun went down\nthey called a truce of peace till next day; and Jack dragged himself\nback to the cabin in small hopes of being able to meet the dhragon\nmore, for he was covered over with wounds from head to foot. But when\nhe got to the cabin the ould man welcomed him back alive, and he took\ndown a little bottle of ointment and rubbed it over Jack, and no\nsooner did he rub it over him than Jack's wounds were all healed as\nwell as ever again. And Jack went out a new man the next mornin' to\ngive the dhragon another try for it this day. And just as on the day\nafore the fiery dhragon come down the hill meeting poor Jack, and the\ndhragon opened his mouth as wide as the world, and gave a roar that\nshook the nails on the toes of the great gray eagle on top of\nCroaghpathrick mountain at home in Ireland, and then he fell on Jack,\nand Jack fell on him, and the dhragon to it, and Jack to it; and the\ndhragon gave Jack his fill, and Jack gave the dhragon his fill; and if\nthey fought hard the day afore they fought double as hard this day,\nand the dhragon put very sore on Jack entirely till the sun went down.\nThen again they agreed on a truce of peace till the next mornin', and\nJack dragged himself back as best he could to the cabin again, all\ncovered over with cuts and bruises, and streaming down with blood.\nAnd when he came there the ould man took down a little bottle of\nointment and rubbed Jack over with it, and he was healed as well as\never again. Next morning Jack was up quite fresh and ready for another\nday's battling, and the ould man told Jack that, win or lose, this day\nwas like to end the battle. And he said if Jack happened (as God send)\nto come off victorious, he was to go into the castle and there he\nwould find a great number of beautiful virgins running about in great\nconfusion to prevent Jack from discovering their mistress the Queen of\nthe Golden Mines, and every one of them axing, \"Is it me ye want? Is\nit me ye want?\" But he told Jack he was to heed none of them, but\npress through room after room till he come to the sixth room, and\nthere he would find the Queen herself asleep, with the little child by\nher side. So Jack went meeting the dhragon this third day again, and\nthe dhragon come meeting Jack. And he opened his mouth as wide as the\nworld, and let a roar that rattled the eyes in the sockets of the\ngreat gray eagle on top of Croaghpathrick mountain at home in Ireland,\nand then fell on Jack, and Jack fell on him; and he to it, and Jack to\nit, and both of them to it; and if the fight was wild and terrible the\nfirst two days it was ten times wilder and terribler this day. And\nharder and harder it was getting the more they warmed to the work; and\none time it was Jack was getting the better of the dhragon, and the\nnext time it was the dhragon was getting the better of poor Jack; and\nat last coming on tor'st night the dhragon was putting very hard on\nJack entirely, and it was very nearly being all over with him, when he\nstepped back, and gathering all his strength mounted into the air with\none spring, and come down atop of the dhragon's head, and struck his\nsword into his heart, leaving him over dead. Then Jack went into the\ncastle, and no sooner did he go in than there was lots of the most\nbeautiful virgins, running in great commotion, and asking Jack, \"Is it\nme ye want?\" \"Is it me ye want?\" But Jack never heeded thim till he\ncome into the sixth room, where he saw the beautiful Queen of the\nGolden Mines asleep, with the Queen of France's child asleep beside\nher. Jack bent over her and gave her one kiss, for she was a lovely\npicthur. Then he took up the child in his arms, and picking up a\nbeautiful garter all glancing with diamonds, that was lying by the\nQueen's bedside, and taking with him a loaf of bread that could never\nbe eaten out, a bottle of wine that could never be drunk out, and a\npurse that could never be emptied, he started away. He stopped that\nnight with the ould man, who took down his bottle of ointment and\nhealed up all the wounds Jack got that day. In the morning Jack\nstarted for France, leaving with the ould man to keep till the Queen\nof the Golden Mines would call for it, the purse that never could be\nemptied. When Jack reached France, and presented back to the Queen her\ndarling child, that was the rejoicement and the joy! There was a great\nfaist given, and at the faist Jack said he had a little wondher he\nfetched with him, that he'd like to show; and he produced his bottle,\nand sent it round the prences, and nobility, and genthry that were all\nassembled at the faist, and axed them all to drink the Queen's health\nout of it. This they all did; and lo! and behold ye, when they had\nfinished the bottle was as full as when they commenced; and they all\nsaid that bate all ever they knew or heerd tell of; and the King said\nit bate all ever he knew or heerd tell of, too, and that the same\nbottle would be of mighty great sarvice to him, to keep his troops in\ndrink when he'd go to war, and axed Jack on what tarms he'd part with\nit. Jack said he couldn't part with it entirely, as it wasn't his own,\nbut if the King relaised his brother he 'd leave the bottle with him\ntill such times as the Queen of the Golden Mines might call for it.\nThe Queen agreed to this. Jack's brother was relaised, and himself and\nJack started off for England. When they were come there the King of\nEngland gave a great faist in their honour, too, and at this faist\nJack said he 'd like to show them a little wonder he fetched with him,\nand he produced the loaf, and axed the King to divide all round. And\nthe King cut off the loaf, and divided all round, over all the prences\nand nobility and gentry that was there; and when he had finished they\nwere all lost in wondherment, for the loaf was still as big as when\nthe King commenced to cut. The King said that would be the grand loaf\nfor feeding his troops whenever he went to war, and axed Jack what\nwould he take to part with it. Jack said the loaf wasn't his to part\nwith, but if the King relaised his brother out of prison he'd give him\nthe loaf till such times as the Queen of the Golden Mines might call\nfor it. The King agreed to this, and relaised Jack's other brother,\nand then the three of them started for home together. And when they\nwere come near home the two older brothers agreed that Jack, when he'd\ntell his story, would disgrace them, and they'd put him to death. But\nJack agreed if they'd let him live he would go away and push his\nfortune, and never go back near home. They let him live on these\nconditions, and they pushed on home, where they were received with\ngreat welcomes, and told mortial great things entirely of all the\ngreat things they done while they were away. Jack come to the castle\nin disguise and got hired as a boy and lived there.\n\nThe Queen of the Golden Mines, when she woke up and learned of the\nyoung gentleman that had killed the dhragon, and carried off the child\nand the other things, and kissed her, said he must be a fine fellow\nentirely, and she would never marry another man if she couldn't find\nhim out. She got no rest till she started, herself and her virgins,\nand away to find out Jack. She first come to the old man, where she\ngot her purse, and he directed her to the King of France. When she\ncome to the Court of the King of France she got her bottle, and he\nsaid Jack went from there to go to see the King of England. From the\nKing of England she got her loaf, and he diracted her to Ireland,\ntelling her that Jack was no other than the King of Ireland's son. She\nlost no time then reaching the Court of the King of Ireland, where she\ndemanded his son who had killed the fiery dhragon. The King sent out\nhis eldest son, and he said it was him that had killed the fiery\ndhragon, and she asked him for tokens, but he could give none, so she\nsaid he wasn't the man she wanted. Then the King's second son come out\nand said it was him killed the fiery dhragon. But he couldn't show her\nno tokens either, so he wouldn't do. Then the King said he had no\nother son, but a good-for-nothing _droich_ who went away somewhere and\nnever come back; but that it wasn't him anyhow, for he couldn't kill\na cockroach. She said she'd have to see him, and converse with him, or\notherwise she wouldn't go away till she'd pull down his castle. Then\nthe whole house was upside down, and they didn't know what to do. And\nJack, who was doing something about the yards axed what it was all\nabout; and they told him, and he axed to have a minute's convarsing\nwith her. But they all laughed at him; and one gave him a knock, and\nanother gave him a push, and another gave him a kick. And Jack never\nminded them one bit, but went out and said it was him that kilt the\nfiery dhragon. They all set up another big roar of a laugh at this.\nThen the Queen asked him to show his tokens, and Jack fetched from his\npocket the beautiful garter, all shining with jewels, and held it up,\nand the Queen came and threw her arms about Jack's neck and kissed\nhim, and said he was the brave man she'd marry, and no other. And me\nbrave Jack, to the astonishment of them all, confessed who he was, and\ngot married to her, and was ever afther the King of the Golden Mines.\n\n\n\n\n_The Deserter_[4]\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a deserter who was three times faithless to\nhis colours. Twice had he undergone the punishment due to desertion;\nthe third time he knew he was face to face with death. So he resolved\nto flee by night and hide himself by day in some ditch or thicket, for\nhe was afraid that in the daylight he might be recognized and\narrested.\n\n[Footnote 4: From \"The Russian Grandmother's Wonder Tales.\" Copyright,\n1906, by Charles Scribner's Sons.]\n\nOne night, as he was hastening onward, he saw a glimmer of light in\nthe distance, and thought to himself, \"I will go toward that light;\nperhaps it will somehow help me out of my trouble.\"\n\nWhen, however, he came up to that light all he saw was an opening just\nwide enough for him to creep into. The moment he was inside thick\ndarkness fell upon him. He could find his way neither in nor out; but\non groping around he at last came upon a staircase, up which he\nclimbed and found himself in a passage-way. Through this passage-way\nhe went for a long, long time, until at last he stumbled upon a door.\nHe opened the door and stepped into a room, but it was pitch dark\nthere too; so he groped all about until at last he stumbled upon\nanother door and entered another room.\n\nSo on he went through eleven rooms, and finally reached the twelfth,\nwhere at last he found a lighted candle upon a table. The room was\nbeautifully fitted up, and he thought within himself, \"Come what come\nmay, I shall make myself at home in this room.\"\n\nSo he stretched himself upon a couch. He lay there for a while lost in\nthought, when, lo and behold! the table began to lay itself. When the\ncloth was spread, all sorts of good cheer began to appear upon it.\n\n\"Come what come may,\" he thought to himself again, \"I am hungry.\" So\nhe fell to and ate to his heart's content. When he had eaten all that\nhe could swallow he threw himself upon the couch again and began to\nconsider.\n\nSuddenly three women entered, clothed entirely in black. One seated\nherself at the piano, while the two others danced. Tired as he was,\nwhen he saw this he arose and skipped about with them. After this\nentertainment they began to talk with him, speaking of one thing and\nanother, and finally came round to the question how he might break the\nspell that bound them.\n\nThey told him the very way and manner of doing it, saying that he had\nnothing more nor less to do than to pass the night in a certain room\nwhich they would show him. A ghost would come there and pester him\nwith all sorts of questions--who he was, how he had come there, and\nother things. But he must not say a mortal word to all these\nquestions, not though the ghost tormented him in all sorts of ways; if\nhe could only hold out in silence the ghost would vanish, and then he\nwould feel not the least pain from all the torments he had been\nenduring.\n\nOur deserter fell in with the proposition without further words, and\nthe ladies escorted him, with the sound of music, to the fateful room\nand left him there alone. When they were gone he undressed himself,\nbolted the door securely, and lay down in bed. But he could not sleep,\nfor his head throbbed with expectation of what was about to happen.\n\nAt eleven o'clock a sudden knock was heard at the door. He dared not\nmake a sound, for he was firmly resolved to ransom himself, the\nladies, and the enchanted castle; so he kept as still as a mouse.\nAgain the knocking came, but he made no answer. At the third knock the\ndoor flew open, and in walked a gigantic form all clothed in flames.\n\nThe giant placed himself at the bedside and began to ask the man who\nhe was and why he had come; but the deserter never uttered a word.\nThen the giant seized him, threw him upon the floor, and began to\ntorment him; but no sound passed the sufferer's lips. At the stroke\nof twelve the ghost departed, with the words:\n\n\"Though you wouldn't tell to-day, you will to-morrow, when we all\nthree come.\"\n\nHe spoke, the door flew open, closed again, and he was gone. The young\nman arose from the floor, lay down upon his bed, and fell sweetly\nasleep, without feeling the least harm.\n\nNext morning came the three ladies, all in white up to their knees,\nand led him, with sound of music, back to the room where he had been\non the previous day. They placed a chair for him and set a delicious\nbreakfast before him. When he had plentifully breakfasted he fell\nasleep and snored till evening.\n\nWhen he awoke he asked how late it was. The ladies replied that it was\nnine o'clock; and they gave him a good supper and led him again to the\nsame room to sleep.\n\nAt the stroke of eleven some one knocked at the door. He made no\nsound, but at the third knock the door flew open and three ghosts\nentered. The one who had been there the night before asked him the\nsame questions as before, but received no better answer. Then one of\nthem seized him and flung him into one corner, and another into\nanother, and so they tossed him about until the poor fellow lay\nhelpless against the wall, all covered with blood.\n\nWhen the clock struck twelve the spokesman said to him, \"Though you\nwon't answer to-night, you will to-morrow, when we all four come.\"\nWith these words they disappeared.\n\nHe again lifted himself up, lay down upon his bed, and felt no harm.\nIn the morning the three ladies came, all in white up to their\ngirdles, and escorted him, to the sound of music, into the other room,\nwhere, after breakfast, he again fell asleep.\n\nAt night they again escorted him to his chamber to sleep. When they\nwere gone he did not go to bed as usual, but began to consider how he\nmight avoid the fearful torment in store for him. First he looked out\nat a window, but his gaze fell upon a frightful abyss enclosed by\nrocky precipices. He went to the second window, but there it was no\nbetter, but seemed to be even more fearful. So nothing was left him\nbut to heap all the furniture of the room before the door, in hope\nthus to escape his tormentors. But he soon gave up this hope, for\nabout midnight the knocking began. He made no answer, but at the third\nknock the door flew open and all the furniture returned to its own\nplace.\n\nThe ghost who had before questioned him now began to repeat his\nquestions, commanding him to tell who he was and how he came there;\nbut the young man was not to be made to speak. Then the spokesman\nordered one of his comrades to go below and bring up an anvil and four\nhammers, and when these had been brought, one of the ghosts blew up a\nfire and threw the young man upon it. When he was heated to a glow\nthey laid him upon the anvil and beat him with hammers until he was as\nflat as paper. But with all this he was not to be forced to speak.\n\nThe time was up and the ghosts must go. Before they went they told him\nthat he and all around him were blessed; and then the door flew open\nand they vanished. He again arose, laid himself upon the bed, and sank\nat once into slumber.\n\nNext morning the three ladies, all in white from head to foot, came,\nwith the sound of music, to thank him for ransoming them, and they\ngave him to choose among them for a wife. Now the youngest of them had\ngrown nearest his heart, and he declared himself ready to marry her,\nnot at once, but later, for first he wished to see something of the\nworld.\n\nThis being the case, they gave him a ham, a wooden flask of wine, a\nloaf of bread, three dogs, and a pipe which hung by a golden chain,\nand they told him that these dogs would come to his aid in every time\nof need; he had only to call them by means of his pipe. And should he\nbe tired, he had only to seat himself upon one of them. So he took all\nthese things and went forth to see the world.\n\nOne day when he was travelling through a forest he arrived at a castle\nand turned aside to enter. But the steps which led up were of such a\nkind that he could not climb them; so he seated himself upon one of\nhis dogs and the animal carried him up. As he passed through the\nentrance he peeped through a window and saw a Tiger and his wife, who\nwas combing his hair.\n\nHe went in to where they were, and the Tiger at once arose, led him\nfrom room to room, and showed him many wonderful things. Everything\npleased the young man, except that the Tiger's wife kept the dogs shut\nup in a room apart.\n\nWhen he entered the fourth room he went around it, gazing upon the\nmany statues and paintings; and while thus doing he stepped upon a\nboard which gave way and let him fall into a cellar where it was as\ndark as pitch. He groped around for a way of escape, but a damp, heavy\nwind seemed to sweep all around him, and first he would wound his hand\nand then his foot. So he thought to himself, \"You won't come safely\nout of this!\"\n\nAfter a while the Tiger let himself down by a rope, butcher-knife in\nhand, intending to kill him. The young man begged for a half-hour's\nrespite, that he might do penance for his sins. This was granted, but\nthe time soon flew by, and the Tiger was already whetting his knife to\nstab him, when the young man sprang aside, and his hand met the chain\nupon which the pipe was hanging. He blew upon it, and quick as thought\nthe dogs were on the spot. He set them upon the Tiger, but as they\nfell upon him the Tiger begged humbly for life, promising that his\nwife would draw him and his dogs up out of the cellar.\n\nSo it came to pass; but they were no sooner out than he again set the\ndogs upon the Tiger, who again began to beg, promising to give him a\nsalve which had the power of fastening against the wall any one upon\nwhose back it was rubbed, and keeping him there fast and firm until he\nchose to let him go.\n\nThe youth took the salve and went on farther, till he reached a city\nwhich was all shrouded in mourning. He entered and asked why every one\nwas in mourning, and received answer that a fearful Dragon was to come\nthat day and carry off the Emperor's daughter.\n\nAt this he laughed heartily, and said, \"That may easily be helped;\njust go and announce to the Emperor that I am ready to ransom the\nPrincess, if it is agreeable to him.\" This was announced, and the\nEmperor received him into the castle with great joy.\n\nAs the appointed time for the Dragon's coming had arrived, the young\nman placed himself in readiness. At the stroke of twelve the Dragon\nsuddenly appeared, driving four horses. The young man was waiting for\nhim, and as soon as the Dragon had taken the Princess by the hand to\ncarry her off he spread the salve upon his back, pressed him against\nthe wall, and set his dogs upon him. At the same time he belaboured\nhim with the butt-end of his musket, till the Dragon was quite\nexhausted and began to beg off, promising to give a written agreement\nnever again to molest the Princess. When he had written the paper in\nhis own blood and signed it he vanished through the window.\n\nThen the Emperor knew not what to do for joy. He offered his daughter\nto the soldier to wife, or, if he liked it better, the half of his\nkingdom. But the young man declined both offers and returned to his\nown ladies, where he married the youngest with the greatest\nfestivities. As they came out of church to go to their house a new\ncity sprang up along the roadside. The hilarity was great. I myself\nwas among the guests, and after I had made merry to my heart's content\nI set out upon the way home to Varazdin.\n\n\n\n\n_The Two Melons_\n\n\nAn Honest and poor old woman was washing clothes at a pool, when a\nbird that a hunter had disabled by a shot in the wing, fell down into\nthe water before her. She gently took up the bird, carried it home\nwith her, dressed its wound, and fed it until it was well, when it\nsoared away. Some days later it returned, put before her an oval seed,\nand departed again. The woman planted the seed in her yard and when it\ncame up she recognized the leaf as that of a melon. She made a trellis\nfor it, and gradually a fruit formed on it, and grew to great size.\n\nToward the end of the year, the old dame was unable to pay her debts,\nand her poverty so weighed upon her that she became ill. Sitting one\nday at her door, feverish and tired, she saw that the melon was ripe,\nand looked luscious; so she determined to try its unknown quality.\nTaking a knife, she severed the melon from its stalk, and was\nsurprised to hear it chink in her hands. On cutting it in two, she\nfound it full of silver and gold pieces, with which she paid her debts\nand bought supplies for many days.\n\nAmong her neighbours was a busybody who craftily found out how the old\nwoman had so suddenly become rich. Thinking there was no good reason\nwhy she should not herself be equally fortunate, she washed clothes at\nthe pool, keeping a sharp lookout for birds until she managed to hit\nand maim one of a flock that was flitting over the water. She then\ntook the disabled bird home, and treated it with care till its wing\nhealed and it flew away. Shortly afterward it came back with a seed in\nits beak, laid it before her, and again took flight. The woman quickly\nplanted the seed, saw it come up and spread its leaves, made a trellis\nfor it, and had the gratification of seeing a melon form on its\nstalk. In prospect of her future wealth, she ate rich food, bought\nfine garments, and got so deeply into debt that, before the end of the\nyear, she was harried by duns. But the melon grew apace, and she was\ndelighted to find that, as it ripened, it became of vast size, and\nthat when she shook it there was a great rattling inside. At the end\nof the year she cut it down, and divided it, expecting it to be a\ncoffer of coins; but there crawled out of it two old, lame, hungry\nbeggars, who told her they would remain and eat at her table as long\nas they lived.\n\n\n\n\n_The Iron Casket_\n\n\nIn Bagdad, in the little lane by the Golden Bridge, lived, ages ago, a\nmerchant named Kalif. He was a quiet, retiring man, who sat early and\nlate in his little shop, and went but once a year to Mosul or Shiraz,\nwhere he bought embroidered robes in exchange for attar of roses.\n\nOn one of these journeys, chancing to have fallen a little in the rear\nof his caravan, he heard roarings and trampling of horse's hoofs in\nthe thicket close by the roadside. Drawing his sword, which he wore on\naccount of thieves, he entered the thicket. On a little green,\nsurrounded by trees, he saw a horseman in a light blue mantle and a\nturban fastened by a flashing diamond. The horse, an Arab of purest\nblood, seemed to have lost its senses. Rearing upright with a piercing\nneigh, it struggled vainly to dislodge an enormous panther, which had\nfixed its great claws in its flanks. The rider had lost all control\nover it; blood and foam poured from its mouth and nostrils. Kalif\nsprang boldly out, with a mighty stroke split the panther's skull,\nand, flinging away his sword, ran to the horse's head, thereby\nenabling the rider to dismount. Having calmed the trembling animal,\nthe horseman begged his rescuer to follow him.\n\n\"I had lost my way in the chase,\" he said, \"and should have fallen a\nvictim to the panther, if Allah had not sent you to my aid. I will\nreward you well for your bravery. Come! let us seek my companions;\nthere, behind that wood, my camp must be.\"\n\n\"I did what any other would have done in my place,\" answered Kalif\nsimply, \"and expect no reward. But if you so will it, I will accompany\nyou to your tents.\"\n\nThe stranger took his horse by the rein, and walked in silence at the\nmerchant's side till they arrived at an opening in the trees. Here,\nsurrounded by several smaller ones, stood one large tent of purple\nlinen. A number of richly clad men threw themselves on their faces\nbefore the new-comer. Then Kalif knew whom he had saved: it was the\nShah himself. He was about to fall at his feet, but the Shah seized\nhis hand and led him into the tent. Inside, standing on five stools,\nwere five caskets, the first of gold set with jewels, the second of\ngold alone, the third silver, the fourth copper, and the fifth of\niron.\n\n\"Choose one of these caskets,\" said the Shah.\n\nKalif hesitated. At length he said:\n\n\"What I did is not worthy of any reward, but if you will it, O King of\nKings, I will take one of these caskets to remind me of the day when\nmy eyes were permitted to behold the Light of Asia.\"\n\nHe stooped and took the iron casket.\n\nThe Shah started. \"Stranger,\" he said, \"your modesty has met with its\nown reward. You have chosen the most valuable casket; for, look! the\nothers are empty, but this one contains two jewels which possess the\nmagic gift of bestowing undreamed-of power to their owner.\" He raised\nthe lid and showed the wondering Kalif the two stones. \"This one,\" he\nsaid, \"is a lapis lazuli. Whosoever winds it in the folds of his\nturban, to him everything is known that has happened since the world\nbegan, and no secret can be hidden from him. But this stone,\" and he\ntook a diamond the size of a dove's egg from the casket, \"this stone\nbrings all the riches he can think of to its owner. He has but to rub\nthe stone and repeat his wish aloud.\" He replaced the stones in the\ncasket, closed the lid, and handed it to the merchant, who thanked the\nShah, hid the treasure in his robes, and hastened to rejoin his\ncaravan.\n\nOnce again in his own house he often looked at the princely gift, and\none day as he was rubbing the lid he noticed an inscription upon it,\nthat had hitherto been unseen. It ran:--\n\n    \"'Tis Allah's will that he who cherishes\n    The precious gift that never perishes.\n    Shall make the East to bend as low\n    As palms that in the whirlwind blow.\"\n\nKalif never spoke of his adventure in the Kalaat Mountains, neither\ncould he ever make up his mind to test the virtue of the stones, being\na frugal man on the one hand, and unwilling to surpass his neighbours\nin wisdom on the other. But at length the news of the Shah's rescue by\nthe merchant reached even Bagdad, together with the account of the\nRoyal reward, and people jostled one another to call on the merchant\nand see with their own eyes the wonderful casket. In consequence Kalif\nhad more customers in one day than he generally had in ten years, and\nhis daily receipts testified to the worth of the casket. For many\nyears he enjoyed the reward of his bravery, and at his death Ali\nHaitam, the eldest son, proposed that they should draw lots for the\nmagic stones. He had great ideas of his own cleverness, and hoped from\nthe bottom of his heart to win the lapis lazuli. Ali Hassuf, the\nsecond son, whose sole failing was insatiable greed, was quite\nagreeable, though in secret he was revolving in his own mind how to\nobtain the diamond in case it fell into the hands of the youngest son.\nBut just as they were about to draw, Abdul Kassim, the youngest son,\nsaid: \"Dear brothers, we are three, and there are but two stones. It\nwould be better, therefore, for one to renounce his claim in order\nthat no dispute may arise in our hitherto peace-loving family. I am\nthe youngest, and therefore can have least claim on the stones. Throw\nto decide which stone shall fall to each. I resign!\"\n\nThe other two were delighted and, as it happened, each got the stone\nhe desired.\n\n\"But in order that I may have a keepsake of my dear father,\" continued\nAbdul Kassim, \"permit me to take home the casket. It will be of no use\nto you, since you have divided the contents.\"\n\nAli Hassuf hesitated at first, but finally agreed to Kassim's wish.\n\nThe three brothers left the empty house, and went each to seek his\nfortune in his own way.\n\nAli Haitam bought a piece of muslin, folded it into a turban, sewed\nthe lapis lazuli inside, and fixed it firmly on his head. Then he went\nto the bazaar and waited for an influx of wisdom, And see! The power\nof the stone set to work and his mind was filled with knowledge! He\nknew the origin of all things, and his eyes could see through walls\nfive feet thick! He passed the Caliph's palace, and he could see that\nin the recesses of the cellars were hidden 9,000 sacks of gold, and\nthat Fatma, the daughter of the Caliph, was the most lovely maiden in\nthe East; and an idea occurred to him that dazzled him. \"How would it\nbe,\" he thought, \"if I placed my wisdom at the Caliph's disposal,\nbecame his first adviser, and finally married the lovely Fatma?\" But\ntogether with this dream came the longing to display to an admiring\ncrowd some proofs of his wisdom.\n\nHe hurried back to the bazaar, mounted the highest steps at the gates,\nand cried: \"You people of Bagdad, who believe that the sun moves round\nthe earth, you are ignorant fools and sons of fools! Hear now what I\npreach to you. The sun stands still, but the earth moves!\"\n\nHe intended to continue, but the cries of the bystanders interrupted\nhim.\n\n\"Ali Haitam has gone mad,\" they cried; \"listen to the nonsense he is\ntalking. Come, let us hold him head first under the lion's mouth at\nthe spring; that will restore him to reason!\"\n\nAnd one, a fruit dealer, took an orange, and crying, \"Ali Haitam is\nright, the sun moves just as little as this orange!\" flung the orange\nat the philosopher on the steps. The juicy fruit knocked the turban\nfrom Ali's head. He stooped to regain it, but in vain. The fruit\ndealer's throw was the signal for a general onslaught, so that he was\nobliged to take to his heels and fly for home. Dusty and panting he\nreached his hut, deeply grieved at the loss of his precious stone, and\nfurious at the stupidity of the people, who showed so little\nunderstanding of the first principles of science.\n\nThe second brother started more cautiously. Since he had but seldom\nbeen farther than the end of the narrow street by the Golden Bridge,\nhe was not in a position to think of anything very precious to wish\nfor; he therefore first visited the bazaar and asked the price of\neverything he saw. At last he found something that, on account of its\nhigh price, made a great impression on him. It was a Turkish sword\nthat a cunning jeweller had studded thickly with diamonds on handle\nand sheath. The dealer asked fifteen hundred golden coins for it, and\nthe bystanders stared with open eyes at the man who dared to bargain\nfor such costly possessions. Just as Ali Hassuf was weighing the\nprecious sword in his hand, a palanquin was borne through the crowd.\nHe turned, and through the drawn curtains caught sight of a maiden of\nwondrous beauty. When he heard that she was the Caliph's daughter, the\ndesire awoke in his soul to marry this lovely creature, and it seemed\nto him not unlikely that the Caliph would give his daughter to a man\nof such note as he would become as the possessor of the magic diamond.\nHe decided to buy the sword, and, armed with the same, to visit the\nCaliph the very next day.\n\n\"I shall come again the very first thing to-morrow morning,\" he said\nto the dealer. \"I have not quite enough money with me now, but I shall\nprocure it this evening. I had quite expected,\" he added boastingly,\n\"that the sword would be expensive.\"\n\nHe turned and went home, where he saddled the thin ass and hung across\nits back two large panniers. When it grew dark he softly drove the\nbeast through the yard and led it out into the desert. For about an\nhour he walked, and in imagination saw himself in possession of all\nthe glories the talisman would bring him. He had not noticed that he\nwas followed by three dark forms, who had never lost sight of him\nsince his visit to the bazaar. He halted by a group of stunted palms,\nspread out a large cloth, and with trembling fingers began to rub the\ndiamond, crying at the same time, \"Spirit of the Stone! send me at\nonce twenty shekels of golden coins!\" He waited a moment, and listened\nin the darkness, thinking he heard whispering voices. But as all was\nsilent he repeated his wish for the second and third time. He heard a\nnoise as of the falling of soft, heavy weights, and, on stooping,\nfound twenty well-filled sacks. He opened one, and felt inside. And,\ntruly! it was really gold in bright new coins! With feverish haste he\nslung the sacks on the ass's back, and turned its head homeward.\nSuddenly he heard once more the same mysterious whisperings, this time\nin his immediate neighbourhood. He stood still and listened with\nbated breath. He felt himself seized by heavy hands and thrown to the\nground, and saw another form seize the ass. Two men with blackened\nfaces tore off his turban and robe and left him lying half-naked by\nthe roadside, after having warned him to keep quiet as to this attack\nunless he wished to lose his life. Trembling with fright and rage, he\nsaw the robbers disappear with his ass in the direction of the\nmountain. What pained him most was the loss of his diamond, which he\nhad concealed in his robe. He reached home, where he lay hidden for\nweeks, too ashamed to show himself in the streets or at the bazaar.\nBut once as he sat on the Golden Bridge fishing, to try and provide\nhimself with a frugal meal, the weapon-dealer passed him by, and said:\n\"Well, Ali Hassuf, when are you coming for your sword?\"\n\nBut sword and Princess were forever lost to Ali Hassuf.\n\nIn the meantime, as the two elder brothers were mourning their losses,\nAbdul Kassim, the youngest, sat at home in his little house by the\ngardens, thinking with regret of his father, and wondering what he\nshould do to earn himself his daily bread. Before him, on a little\nstool, stood the iron casket. There came a knock at the door, and\nMicha ben Jahzeel, the Jew, who had lent him money a month or two ago,\nwalked in. Micha looked grave and said, \"Abdul Kassim, times are bad,\nand ready money gets scarcer and scarcer. You know I lent you ten\ngolden coins, and I have come to ask\"--his eyes fell on the casket and\nhe started, but collecting himself, went on: \"I have come to tell you\nthat I am not in an immediate hurry for the return of the loan. If you\nlike you can keep it, or, as it is hardly worth mentioning, keep it\nfor some months, or even years if you like. I only wanted to tell you\nyou needn't trouble about it, there is no hurry at all.\" He bowed low\nto his debtor and withdrew.\n\nAbdul Kassim marvelled at the change in the Jew's manner, but as he\nthought of the looks he had cast at the casket he couldn't help\nsmiling.\n\nOn the same evening came his neighbour, the clothes dealer, who had\nnot visited him for years, \"Dear friend,\" he said, and placed a\nbundle on the floor before Kassim, \"I have come to entreat your pardon\nthat my horse should have splashed your robe with mud the other day;\nhe is a young thing, and is not yet properly broken. I have brought\nyou a new robe to replace it, which I hope will please you.\" Then he\nwithdrew. The young man could not recollect having been splashed by\nhis neighbour's horse, still less could he account for the generosity\nof one who was celebrated for his meanness, in presenting him with\nsuch an elaborately embroidered robe.\n\nNext morning, just as he had put on his new robe, a distant relation\narrived, bringing a magnificently caparisoned horse.\n\n\"Dear cousin,\" he said--formerly he had not even noticed him--\"your\nappearance grieves me. I feared you were giving way too much to grief\nat the loss of your father, and it would give me great pleasure to\ncheer you a little. I have ventured to bring you this horse, which is\novercrowding my stable; do me the favour to accept this little gift!\"\n\nAbdul Kassim would have refused, but the cousin had hurried away.\nThere he stood, holding the beautiful animal by the bridle. He could\nnot resist the temptation to mount him. He swung himself into the\nsaddle and rode into the town. Every one bowed to him, and many stood\nstill, saying: \"There, I told you so! Abdul Kassim was always the\nfavorite son, and he has inherited the casket!\"\n\nNext morning, as the barber sharpened his razor and began to shave the\nCaliph, the latter asked him: \"Well, Harmos, what are my subjects\ntalking about just now?\"\n\nThe barber bowed to the ground and said: \"What should they speak of, O\nKing of the Faithful, if not of your goodness and wisdom?\"\n\n\"Of your idiocy, very likely,\" shouted the Caliph, bored by the\neternal flatteries of the barber. \"Tell me, what are the people\ntalking about?\"\n\n\"They talk,\" began Harmos hesitatingly; \"they talk of the luck of your\nservant, Abdul Kassim, whom they call the wisest and richest of your\nsubjects.\"\n\n\"Abdul Kassim? I don't even know his name,\" said the Caliph.\n\n\"He is the son and heir of Kalif,\" continued the barber, more\ncourageously; \"the same Kalif whom the Shah once rewarded with a magic\ncasket.\"\n\nHe related at length all about the magic stones. The Caliph listened\nattentively, dismissed the barber, and sent a message to the Grand\nVizier to come at once. The Vizier came and confirmed the barber's\ntale. \"Abdul Kassim,\" he said, \"knows everything that goes on in the\nworld, and whenever he has a wish, all he has to do to fulfil it is to\nrub the diamond and say what he wants.\"\n\nThe Caliph grew serious, \"Do you think, Vizier, that this man could\nusurp my throne? How would it be if I gave him a palace and raised him\nto be the husband of my daughter?\"\n\nThe Grand Vizier agreed to the proposal of his ruler, and undertook\nhimself to convey to the astounded Abdul Kassim the tidings that the\nCommander of the Faithful had given him a palace and awaited his\nvisit.\n\nThe same evening the new favourite of the Caliph packed all his few\nbelongings on the horse's back, took the iron casket under his arm\nand, amid the cheers of the crowd, entered the palace.\n\nA troop of negroes received him and threw themselves at his feet. An\nespecially gorgeously arrayed slave led him into a room, where a\nbanquet awaited him. Abdul Kassim had never fared so well in his life.\nBut he did not forget to praise Allah for his goodness. Next morning\nhe put on his gorgeous robe, bound on the magnificent sword he found\nin the great hall, and rode, accompanied by the negroes, to visit the\nCaliph.\n\nThe Commander of the Faithful sat on the throne and awaited his\nsubject, who, when he appeared, was about to throw himself in the dust\nat the ruler's feet, but the Caliph descended the three steps of the\nthrone, and took the young man's hand.\n\n\"Are you Abdul Kassim,\" he said, \"son of Kalif, the merchant who lived\nby the Golden Bridge?\"\n\n\"I am he, Caliph,\" answered Abdul; \"permit me to express my thanks\nfor the palace with which you have endowed your most humble servant.\"\n\n\"I have heard much good of you,\" said the Caliph, when he had ordered\nhis suite to retire; \"and pray you to show me the magic jewels that\nhelp you to such power and wisdom.\"\n\n\"Of which jewels are you speaking?\" asked Abdul Kassim, amazed.\n\n\"Well,\" smiled the Caliph, \"which jewels should I mean but those you\nhave inherited from your father?\"\n\nThe young man stared. So the Caliph, too, took him for the possessor\nof the magic stones? Without reserve he confessed that, to avoid\ndisputes he had voluntarily retired and left the stones to his\nbrothers.\n\n\"But,\" said the Caliph, \"Micha ben Jahzeel, the Jew, saw the casket in\nyour house!\"\n\n\"The casket he may have seen,\" answered Abdul Kassim; \"I begged it of\nmy brothers in memory of my father.\"\n\nThe Caliph seemed still in doubt. He sent a slave to Abdul Kassim's\npalace to bring the casket. The messenger brought it, gave it to the\nCaliph, and retired. The Caliph opened the lid and looked inside. It\nwas in truth empty! His gaze fell on the inscription:--\n\n    \"'Tis Allah's will that he who cherishes\n    The precious gift that never perishes,\n    Shall make the East to bend as low\n    As palms that in the whirlwind blow.\"\n\nHe read the verse and looked at the youth. \"Abdul Kassim,\" he said,\n\"you have jewels in your heart more precious than all the treasures of\nthe earth. For love of your brothers you gave up the stones, and for\nlove of your father you have preserved this seemingly worthless\ncasket. But Allah has blessed you for your virtues and has, by means\nof this humble iron casket, raised you to power and wealth. I dare not\nrefuse to assist you. I will give you the most priceless gift at my\ndisposal--the hand of my only daughter.\"\n\nHe called the chief overseer of the harem and bade him lead Fatma to\nthe throne-room. The maiden had passed the night in weeping, for she\nhad heard that she was to be given in marriage to a strange man. She\nshuddered at the thought, for as only child of the Caliph she had been\nthoroughly spoiled, and hated the idea of leaving her father's roof.\n\nAbdul Kassim, who until now had been struck utterly dumb with\nastonishment, could not refrain from a cry of admiration at the sight\nof the lovely Fatma. She seemed to him a hundred times more beautiful\nthan any description he had heard of her in Bagdad.\n\nIn the midst of her grief Fatma retained her woman's curiosity, and on\nhearing the youth's voice, cast one glance at him over her father's\nshoulder. The first impression seemed not unfavourable. She eyed his\nslender form as he stood leaning on his sword, and gradually ceased\nher sobbing. She even raised herself and took hold of the Caliph's\narm. \"Father,\" she said, \"do with me what you will; not without cause\ndo the people call you 'The Wise One'.\"\n\nSo Fatma was married to Abdul. But neither she nor any other ever knew\nthat the iron casket connected with her young lord's rise and power\nwas empty. The Caliph advised his son-in-law to maintain the deepest\nsilence as to the absence of the magic jewels.\n\nIn the fifth year of their wedded life the Caliph, feeling the weight\nof advancing years, abdicated in Abdul Kassim's favour, so the verse\non the casket was fulfilled, and Abdul Kassim reigned many, many years\nover Bagdad, the best and wisest ruler who had ever ascended the\nthrone. Allah's name be praised!\n\n\n\n\n_The Knights of the Fish_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a poor cobbler, who, being unable to live\nby mending shoes, determined to buy a net and turn fisherman. He went\na-fishing for several days, but could draw up nothing in his net but\nold boots and shoes, though few enough of them could he get hold of\nwhen he was a cobbler. At last he thought:\n\n\"This is the very last day I will go fishing. If I catch nothing I\nwill go and hang myself.\"\n\nHe cast his net, and this time he found a fine fish in it. When he had\ntaken the fish in his hand, it opened its mouth and said to him:\n\n\"Take me home to your house; cut me in six pieces and stew me with\nsalt and pepper, cinnamon and cloves, laurel leaves and mint. Give two\nof the pieces to your wife, two to your mare, and the other two to the\nplant in the garden.\"\n\nThe cobbler did exactly what the fish had told him to do, such was the\nfaith he had in its words. And he was duly rewarded, for several\nmonths afterward his wife presented him with two fine boys, and his\nmare with two colts, whilst the plant in his garden grew two lances\nwhich, instead of flowers, bore two shields, on which were to be seen\na silver fish on an azure ground.\n\nEverything went on so prosperously that in course of time, one fine\nday, might be seen two gallant youths issuing from the cobbler's\nhouse, mounted upon two superb chargers, and bearing slender lances\nand brilliant shields.\n\nThese two brothers were so much alike that they were known as The\nDouble Knight; and each of them wishing, as was just, to preserve his\nown individuality, they determined to separate and each seek his own\nfortune. After embracing affectionately, the one took his way toward\nthe West, and the other toward the East.\n\nAfter travelling for some days the first arrived at Madrid, and found\nthe royal city pouring bitter tears into the pure, sweet waters of her\ncherished river, the Manzanares. Everybody was weeping when our\ngallant youth arrived at the Spanish capital; he inquired the cause of\nthis universal lamentation, and was informed that every year a fiery\ndragon came and carried off a beautiful maiden, and that this luckless\nyear the lot had fallen upon their princess, the king's good and\npeerless daughter.\n\nThe knight at once inquired where the princess was to be found, and\nwas informed, at about a quarter of a league's distance, where she was\nexpecting the fiery one to appear and carry her off to his den. Then\nthe knight started off at once to the place indicated, and found the\nprincess bathed in tears, and trembling from head to foot.\n\n\"Fly away!\" cried the princess, when she saw the Knight of the Fish\napproach; \"fly away, rash one! the monster is coming here, and if he\nsees you, heaven help you!\"\n\n\"I shall not go away,\" responded the gallant youth, \"because I have\ncome to save you.\"\n\n\"To save me! Is that possible?\"\n\n\"I am going to see,\" responded the valiant champion. \"Are there any\nGerman merchants in the city?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered the princess in astonishment; \"but why do you ask?\"\n\n\"You will see,\" said the knight, and galloped off to the city of\nmourning.\n\nHe speedily returned with an immense mirror which he had purchased\nfrom a German dealer. This he rested against the trunk of a tree, and\ncovered it with the princess's veil, placing her in front of it, and\ninstructing her that when the dragon was near to her she was to pull\noff the veil and slip behind the glass. So saying, the knight retired\nbehind an adjacent wall.\n\nIn a little while the fiery dragon appeared, and gradually drew near\nto the fair one, eying her with all the insolence and effrontery\npossible. When he was quite close, the princess, as she had been\ninstructed by her champion, withdrew the veil, and slipping behind the\nmirror, disappeared from before the eyes of the fiery dragon, which\nremained stupefied at finding his amorous glances directed at a dragon\nsimilar to himself. He made a movement; his resemblance did the same.\nHis eyes sparkled red and brilliant as two rubies; whilst those of his\nopponent gleamed like two carbuncles. This increased his fury; he\nerected his scales as a porcupine would its quills, and those of his\nrival likewise stood up. He opened his tremendous mouth, which would\nhave been without parallel but for that of his opponent, who, far from\nbeing intimidated, opened an identical one. The dragon dashed\nfuriously against his intrepid adversary, giving such an awful blow\nwith his head against the mirror that he was completely stunned; and\nas he had broken the glass, and in every piece saw a piece of his own\nbody, he fancied that with one blow he had dashed his rival to atoms.\n\nThe knight availed himself of this moment of confusion and\nstupefaction, and dashing forth impetuously from his retreat, with his\ngood lance deprived the dragon of its life, and would have been ready\nto deprive it of a hundred lives had it possessed so many.\n\nThe delight and jubilation of the Madrid people may be imagined when\nthey beheld the Knight of the Fish bearing on his saddle the beautiful\nprincess, quite uninjured and as lively as a cricket, and the dragon,\nfastened by its neck to his sturdy charger, hanging dead and bloodless\nbehind. It may, also, be readily guessed that after such an\nachievement they were unable to reward the gallant knight with\nanything but the princess's fair hand; and that they had wedding\nfestivities, and banquets, and bull fights, and tilting matches, and\nall sorts of good things.\n\nSome days after the marriage the Knight of the Fish said to his wife\nthat he would like to look over the palace, which was so extensive\nthat it covered a league of ground. They inspected the place together,\nand the task occupied them four days. On the fourth day they ascended\nthe roof, and the knight was struck with amazement at the prospect.\nNever had he seen anything like it, nor ever could he have seen its\nequal, even if he had visited all Spain and the Empire of Morocco as\nwell.\n\n\"What castle is that?\" inquired the Knight of the Fish, \"which I see\nstanding in the distance, so solitary and sombre.\"\n\n\"That,\" responded the princess, \"is the castle of Albastretch; it is\nenchanted, and no one is able to undo the enchantment; and no one of\nall those who have gone to it has ever been known to return.\"\n\nThe knight listened intently to this, and as he was valiant and\nadventurous, on the following morning he mounted his horse, seized his\nlance, and set out for the castle.\n\nThe castle was enough to set one's hair on end with fright to look at\nit; it was darker than a thunder-cloud, and as silent as death. But\nthe Knight of the Fish knew nothing of fear, save by hearsay, and\nnever turned his back on foe until he had conquered; so he took his\ncornet and blew it lustily. The sound startled all the slumbering\nechoes of the castle, so that they repeated it by heart, now nearer\nand now farther, sometimes softer and then louder; but no one stirred\nin the castle.\n\n\"Ah! what a castle!\" shouted the knight. \"Is there no one to see to a\nknight who craves shelter? Is there no governor, nor squire nor even a\ngroom, to take my horse away?\"\n\n\"Away! away! away!\" clamoured the echoes.\n\n\"Why should I go away?\" said the Knight of the Fish. \"I shall not go\nback, no matter how much you sigh!\"\n\n\"Ay! ay! ay! (_Alas! alas! alas!_)\" groaned the echoes.\n\nThe knight grasped his spear and struck a loud blow on the door.\n\nThen the portcullis was raised, and in the opening appeared the tip of\nan enormous nose, located between the sunken eyes and fallen-in mouth\nof an old woman uglier than sin.\n\n\"What do you want, impudent disturber?\" she inquired, with a cracked\nvoice.\n\n\"To enter,\" replied the knight. \"Are you not able to afford me the\nenjoyment of some rest at this hour of the night? Yes or no?\"\n\n\"No! no! no!\" said the echoes.\n\nHere the knight lifted his vizier, because he was warm; and the old\nwoman, seeing how handsome he was, said to him:\n\n\"Come in, handsome youth; you shall be cared for and well looked\nafter.\"\n\n\"After! after!\" warned the echoes; but the knight was fear-less and\nentered, the old woman promising that he should fare well.\n\n\"Farewell, farewell!\" sighed the echoes.\n\n\"Go on, old lady,\" said the knight.\n\n\"I am called Lady Berberisca,\" interposed the old woman, very crossly;\n\"and I am the mistress of Albastretch.\"\n\n\"Wretch! wretch!\" groaned the echoes.\n\n\"Won't you be silent, cursed chatterers?\" exclaimed Lady Berberisca.\n\"I am your humble servant,\" she continued, making a deep curtsey to\nthe knight, \"and if you like I will be your wife, and you shall live\nwith me here as grand as a Pacha.\"\n\n\"Ha! ha! ha!\" laughed the echoes.\n\n\"Would you have me marry you? You must be a hundred. You are foolish,\nand mad as well.\"\n\n\"Well, well,\" said the echoes.\n\n\"What I want,\" said the knight, \"is the registry of the castle, to\nexamine and amend.\"\n\n\"Amen! amen!\" sighed the echoes.\n\nLady Berberisca's pride was deeply wounded; she gave a hasty glance at\nthe Knight of the Fish, and intimating to him that he should follow\nher, she showed him over the castle, where he beheld many strange\nthings, but she did not afford him any opportunity of referring to\nthem. The wicked old woman took him through an obscure corridor, where\nthere was a trap-door, into which he fell and disappeared into an\nabyss, where his voice was added to the echoes, which were the voices\nof many other gallant and accomplished knights, whom the shameless old\nBerberisca had punished in the same manner for having despised her\nvenerable charms.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nLet us now turn to the other Knight of the Fish, who, after long\ntravels, arrived at Madrid. As he entered the city gates the\nsentinels presented arms, the drums beat the royal march and several\nof the palace servitors surrounded him, saying that the princess was\nin constant tears through his prolonged absence, fearing that some\nmisfortune had happened to him in the enchanted castle of Albastretch.\n\n\"It is necessary that I should pass for my brother,\" thought the\nknight, \"to whom, it would appear, some good fortune has occurred. I\nmust be quiet, and we shall see what will come to pass.\"\n\nThey carried him almost in triumph to the palace, where he found it\neasy to accept all the caresses and congratulations bestowed upon him\nby the king and the princess. They were eager to learn about his\nadventures, and what he had seen at the castle; but to the princess's\ninquiries he answered:\n\n\"I am not permitted to say a word about that until after I have been\nthere once more.\"\n\n\"Are you thinking of revisiting that accursed castle? You are the only\none who has yet returned from it.\"\n\n\"It is unavoidable; I am obliged to go there.\"\n\nWhen they retired to rest, the knight placed his sword in the bed.\n\n\"Why do you do that?\" inquired the princess.\n\n\"Because I have sworn not to sleep in a bed until after I have\nrevisited Albastretch.\"\n\nAnd on the following day he mounted his steed and took his way to the\nenchanted castle, much fearing that some misfortune had happened to\nhis brother there. He arrived at the castle, and quickly saw the old\nwoman's fiery nose appear at the portcullis.\n\nNo sooner did she see the knight than she became livid with fright,\nfor she thought he was the dead knight come to life again. She began\nto invoke the object of her devotions, Beelzebub, most devoutly, and\npromised him all kinds of gifts if he would take from her view that\nvision of flesh and blood, drawn up from the abode of the dead.\n\n\"Ancient lady!\" cried the recent arrival, \"I have come to ask where a\nknight is who has been here?\"\n\n\"Here! here! here!\" responded the echoes.\n\n\"And what have you done with this knight, so accomplished in all\nthings, and so skilled?\"\n\n\"Killed! killed!\" groaned the echoes.\n\nOn hearing this, and seeing the old hag running off, the Knight of the\nFish, beside himself with rage, ran after her, and pierced her through\nwith his sword, which remained fast in her body, so that she jumped\nabout at the point of it like a parched pea in a frying-pan.\n\n\"Where is my brother, ugly old traitress?\" demanded the knight.\n\n\"I can tell you,\" responded the witch, \"but as I am at death's door, I\nwill not let you know until you have resuscitated me.\"\n\n\"But how can I do this, perfidious witch?\"\n\n\"Go to the garden,\" responded the old woman, \"cut some evergreens,\neverlastings, and dragon's blood; with these plants make a decoction\nin a caldron, and then sprinkle some of it over me.\"\n\nAfter saying this the old woman died, without uttering a prayer. The\nknight did all that the witch instructed him to do, and effectually\nresuscitated her, but uglier than ever, for her nose remained deadly\nwhite, and looked like an elephant's tusk. Then she was forced to tell\nthe knight where his brother was; and down in the abyss he not only\nfound him, but many other victims of the wicked Berberisca. He\nsprinkled them all with the decoction in the caldron, and they were\nall brought to life again, and to each person came an echo which had\nbeen his voice; and the first words they all uttered were:\n\n\"Accursed witch, merciless Berberisca!\"\n\nThen all those gallant knights, and many beautiful ladies whom the\nfiery old dragon--who was the witch's son--had carried there, gave\nthanks to the Knight of the Fish; and one of the most beautiful of the\nladies gave him her hand; on seeing which, the wicked Berberisca died\nagain with envy and spite.\n\n\n\n\n_Dapplegrim_\n\n\nOnce on a time there was a rich couple who had twelve sons; but the\nyoungest, when he was grown up, said he wouldn't stay any longer at\nhome, but be off into the world to try his luck. His father and mother\nsaid he did very well at home, and had better stay where he was. But\nno, he couldn't rest; away he must and would go.\n\nSo at last they gave him leave. And when he had walked a good bit, he\ncame to a king's palace, where he asked for a place, and got it.\n\nNow, the daughter of the king of that land had been carried off into\nthe hill by a Troll, and the king had no other children; so he and all\nhis land were in great grief and sorrow, and the king gave his word\nthat anyone who could set her free should have the Princess and half\nthe kingdom. But there was no one who could do it, though many tried.\n\nWhen the lad had been there a year or so, he longed to go home again,\nand see his father and mother, and back he went; but when he got home\nhis father and mother were dead, and his brothers had shared all that\nthe old people owned between them, so there was nothing left for the\nlad.\n\n\"Shan't I have anything at all, then, out of father's and mother's\ngoods?\" asked the lad.\n\n\"Who could tell you were still alive, when you've been wandering about\nso long?\" said his brothers. \"But all the same there are twelve mares\nup on the hill which we haven't yet shared amongst us; if you choose\nto take them for your share, you're welcome.\"\n\nYes, the lad was quite content; so he thanked his brothers, and went\nat once up on the hill, where the twelve mares were out at grass. And\nwhen he got up there he found them; and one of them had along with\nher a big dapple-gray foal, which was so sleek that the sun shone from\nits coat.\n\n\"A fine fellow you are, my little foal,\" said the lad.\n\n\"Yes,\" said the foal, \"but you wait until another year has passed, and\nthen see how big and sleek I'll be.\"\n\nSo the lad went home again, and when he came back the next year to\nlook after his foal and mares, the foal was so sleek and fat that the\nsun shone from its coat, and it had grown so big the lad had hard work\nto mount it.\n\n\"Well, it's quite plain I lost nothing by leaving you to graze for a\ntwelvemonth,\" said the lad to the yearling, \"but now you're big enough\nto come along with me.\"\n\n\"No,\" said the colt, \"I must bide here a year longer and then see how\nbig and sleek I'll be by summer.\"\n\nYes, the lad did that; and next year when he went up on the hill to\nlook after his colt and mares, each mare had her foal, but the dapple\ncolt was so tall that the lad couldn't reach up to his crest when he\nwanted to feel how fat he was; and so sleek he was, too, that his coat\nglistened in the sunshine.\n\n\"Big and beautiful you were last year, my colt,\" said the lad, \"but\nthis year you're far grander. There's no such horse in the king's\nstable. But now you must come along with me.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Dapple again, \"I must stay here one year more, to eat this\nbeautiful grass, then just come and look at me when the summer comes.\"\n\nSo again the lad went away home.\n\nBut when he went up next year to look after Dapple and the mares, he\nwas quite astonished. So tall, and stout, and sturdy, he never thought\na horse could be; for Dapple had to lie down before the lad could\nbestride him, and it was hard work to climb up even then, although he\nlay flat; and his coat was so smooth and sleek that the sunbeams shone\nfrom it as from a looking-glass.\n\nThis time Dapple was willing enough to follow the lad, so he jumped up\non his back, and when he came riding home to his brothers, they all\nclapped their hands and shouted, for such a horse they had never heard\nof or seen before.\n\n\"If you will only get me the best shoes you can for my horse, and the\ngrandest saddle and bridle that are to be found,\" said the lad, \"you\nmay have my twelve mares that graze up on the hill yonder, and their\ntwelve foals into the bargain.\" For you must know that this year every\nmare had her foal.\n\nYes, his brothers were ready to do that, and so the lad got such\nstrong shoes under his horse that the stones flew high aloft as he\nrode away across the hills; and he had a golden saddle and a golden\nbridle, which gleamed and glistened a long way off.\n\n\"Now we're off to the king's palace,\" said Dapplegrim--that was his\nname; \"and mind you ask the king for a good stable and fodder for me.\"\n\nYes, the lad said he would mind; he'd be sure not to forget; and when\nhe rode off from his brothers' house, you may be sure it wasn't long,\nwith such a horse under him, before he got to the king's palace.\n\nWhen he came there the king was standing on the steps, and stared and\nstared at the man who came riding along.\n\n\"Nay, nay,\" said he, \"such a man and such a horse I never saw in all\nmy life.\"\n\nBut when the lad asked if he could resume his place in the king's\nhousehold, the king was so glad he was ready to jump and dance as he\nstood on the steps.\n\nThere was no reason, the king said, why the lad should not come back.\n\n\"Ay,\" said the lad, \"but I must have good stable-room for my horse,\nand fodder that one can trust.\"\n\nYes, he should have meadow-hay and oats, as much as his horse could\ncram, and all the other knights had to lead their steeds out of the\nstable that Dapplegrim might stand alone, and have it all to himself.\n\nBut it wasn't long before all the others in the king's household began\nto be jealous of the lad, and there was no end to the bad things they\nwould have done to him, if they had only dared. At last they thought\nof telling the king that he had been boasting he was man enough to set\nthe king's daughter free--whom the Troll had long since carried away\ninto the hill--if he only chose. The king called the lad before him,\nand said he had heard what the lad had said, so now he must go and do\nit. If he succeeded, the king's daughter and half the kingdom should\nbe his, and that promise would be faithfully kept; if he didn't, he\nshould be killed.\n\nThe lad kept on saying he never said any such thing; but it was no\ngood, the king wouldn't even listen to him; and so the end of it was\nhe was forced to say he'd go and try.\n\nSo he went into the stable, down in the mouth and heavy-hearted, and\nthen Dapplegrim asked him at once why he was in such doleful dumps.\n\nThen the lad told him all, and how he couldn't tell which way to turn,\nand he said:\n\n\"As for setting the Princess free, that's downright nonsense.\"\n\n\"Oh, but it might be done, perhaps,\" said Dapplegrim. \"But you must\nfirst have me well shod. You must go and ask for ten pounds of iron\nand twelve pounds of steel for the shoes; and one smith to hammer and\nanother to hold.\"\n\nYes, the lad did that, and got for answer, \"Yes.\" He got both the iron\nand the steel, and the smith, and so Dapplegrim was shod both strong\nand well, and off went the lad from the courtyard in a cloud of dust.\n\nBut when he came to the hill into which the Princess had been carried,\nthe pinch was how to get up the steep wall of rock where the Troll's\ncave was in which the Princess had been hid. For you must know the\nhill stood straight up and down right on end, as upright as a house\nwall, and as smooth as a sheet of glass.\n\nThe first time the lad went at it he got a little way up; but then\nDapple's forelegs slipped, and down they went again, with a sound like\nthunder on the hill.\n\nThe second time he rode at it he got some way further up; but then one\nforeleg slipped, and down they went with a crash like a landslip.\n\nBut the third time Dapple said:\n\n\"Now we must show our mettle,\" and went at it again till the stones\nflew heaven-high about them, and so they got up.\n\nThen the lad rode right into the cave at full speed, and caught up\nthe Princess, and threw her over his saddle-bow, and out and down\nagain before the Troll had time even to get on his legs; and so the\nPrincess was freed.\n\nWhen the lad came back to the palace the king was both happy and glad\nto get his daughter back, that you may well believe; but somehow or\nother, though I don't know how, the others about the court had so\nbrought it about that the king was angry with the lad after all.\n\n\"Thanks you shall have for freeing my Princess,\" said he to the lad,\nwhen he brought the Princess into the hall and made his bow.\n\n\"She ought to be mine as well as yours; for you're a word-fast man, I\nhope,\" said the lad.\n\n\"Ay, ay!\" said the king, \"have her you shall, since I said it, but\nfirst of all you must make the sun shine into my palace hall.\"\n\nNow you must know there was a high, steep ridge of rock close outside\nthe windows, which threw such a shade over the hall that never a\nsunbeam shone into it.\n\n\"That wasn't in our bargain,\" answered the lad; \"but I suppose I must\ndo what you command. I must e'en go and try my luck, for the Princess\nI must and will have.\"\n\nSo down he went to Dapple, and told him what the king wanted; and\nDapplegrim thought it might easily be done, but first of all he must\nbe newly shod; and for that, ten pounds of iron and twelve pounds of\nsteel besides were needed; and two smiths, one to hammer and the other\nto hold, and then they'd soon get the sun to shine into the palace\nhall.\n\nSo when the lad asked for all these things, he got them at once--the\nking couldn't say nay for very shame; and so Dapplegrim got new shoes,\nand such shoes! Then the lad jumped upon his back, and off they went\nagain; and for every leap that Dapplegrim gave, down sank the ridge\nfifteen feet into the earth, and so they went on till there was\nnothing left of the ridge for the king to see.\n\nWhen the lad got back to the king's palace, he asked the king if the\nPrincess was not his now; for now no one could say that the sun didn't\nshine into the hall. But then the others whispered to the king again,\nand he answered that the lad should have her, of course; he had never\nthought of anything else; but first of all he must get as grand a\nhorse for the bride to ride on to church as the bridegroom had\nhimself.\n\nThe lad said the king hadn't spoken a word about this before, and that\nhe thought he had now fairly earned the Princess; but the king held to\nhis own; and more, if the lad couldn't do that he should lose his\nlife; that was what the king said. So the lad went down to the stable\nin doleful dumps, as you may well fancy, and there he told Dapplegrim\nall about it; how the king had laid that task upon him, to find the\nbride as good a horse as the bridegroom had himself, else he would\nlose his life.\n\n\"But that's not so easy,\" he said, \"for your match isn't to be found\nin the wide world.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, I have a match,\" said Dapplegrim; \"but he lives a long way\nfrom here, and rules over a great country. Still, we'll try. And now\nyou must go up to the king and ask for new shoes for me, ten pounds of\niron and twelve pounds of steel; and two smiths, one to hammer and one\nto hold; and mind you see that the points and ends of those shoes are\nsharp; and twelve sacks of rye, and twelve sacks of barley, and twelve\nroasted oxen we must have with us; and mind, we must have the twelve\nox-hides, with twelve hundred spikes driven into each; and, let me\nsee, a big tar-barrel--that's all we want.\"\n\nSo the lad went up to the king and asked for all that Dapplegrim\nrequired, and the king again thought he couldn't say nay, for shame's\nsake, and so the lad got all he wanted.\n\nWell, he jumped up on Dapplegrim's back, and rode away from the\npalace, and when he had ridden far over hill and heath, Dapple asked:\n\n\"Do you hear anything?\"\n\n\"Yes, I hear an awful hissing and rustling up in the air,\" said the\nlad; \"I think I'm getting afraid.\"\n\n\"That's all the wild birds that fly through the wood. They are sent to\nstop us; but just cut a hole in the corn sacks, and then they'll have\nso much to do with the corn, they'll forget us, quite.\"\n\nYes, the lad did that; he cut holes in the corn sacks, so that the\nrye and the barley ran out on all sides. Then all the wild birds came\nflying round them so thick that the sunbeams grew dark, but as soon as\nthey saw the corn they couldn't keep to their purpose, but flew down\nand began to pick and scratch at the rye and barley; and after that\nthey began to fight amongst themselves. As for Dapplegrim and the lad,\nthey forgot all about them, and did them no harm.\n\nSo the lad rode on and on--far, far over mountain and dale, over\nsand-hills and moor. Then Dapplegrim began to prick up his ears again,\nand at last he asked the lad if he heard anything.\n\n\"Yes, now I hear such an ugly rushing and howling in the wood all\nround, it makes me quite afraid.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said Dapplegrim, \"that's all the wild beasts that range through\nthe wood, and they're sent out to stop us. But just cast out the\ntwelve carcasses of the oxen; that will give them enough to do, and so\nthey'll forget us outright.\"\n\nYes, the lad cast out the carcasses, and then all the wild beasts in\nthe wood--bears and wolves and lions--came after them. But when they\nsaw the carcasses, they began to fight for them amongst themselves,\ntill blood flowed in streams; but Dapple and the lad they quite\nforgot.\n\nSo the lad rode far away, and they changed the landscape many, many\ntimes, for Dapplegrim didn't let the grass grow under him, as you may\nimagine. At last Dapple gave a great neigh.\n\n\"Do you hear anything?\" he said.\n\n\"Yes, I hear something like a colt neighing loudly a long, long way\noff,\" answered the lad.\n\n\"That's a full-grown colt, then,\" said Dapplegrim, \"if we hear him\nneigh so loud such a long way off.\"\n\nAfter that they travelled a good bit, changing the landscape once or\ntwice, maybe. Then Dapplegrim gave another neigh.\n\n\"Now listen, and tell me if you hear anything,\" he said.\n\n\"Yes, now I hear a neigh like a full-grown horse,\" answered the lad.\n\n\"Ay, ay!\" said Dapplegrim, \"you'll hear him once again soon, and then\nyou'll hear he's got a voice of his own.\"\n\nSo they travelled on and on, and changed the landscape once or twice,\nperhaps, and then Dapplegrim neighed the third time; but before he\ncould ask the lad if he heard anything, something gave such a neigh\nacross the heathery hillside, the lad thought hill and rock would\nsurely be rent asunder.\n\n\"Now he's here!\" said Dapplegrim; \"make haste, now, and throw the\nox-hides, with the spikes in them, over me, and throw down the\ntar-barrel on the plain; then climb up into that great spruce-fir\nyonder. When it comes, fire will flash out of both nostrils, and then\nthe tar-barrel will catch fire. Now, mind what I say. If the flame\nrises, I win; if it falls, I lose; but if you see me winning, take and\ncast the bridle--you must take it off me--over its head, and then it\nwill be tame enough.\"\n\nSo just as the lad had done throwing the ox-hides, with the spikes,\nover Dapplegrim, and had cast down the tar-barrel on the plain, and\nhad got well up into the spruce-fir, up galloped a horse, with fire\nflashing out of its nostrils, and the flame caught the tar-barrel at\nonce. Then Dapplegrim and the strange horse began to fight till the\nstones flew heaven-high. They fought and bit and kicked, both with\nfore feet and hind feet, and sometimes the lad could see them, and\nsometimes he couldn't; but at last the flame began to rise; for\nwherever the strange horse kicked or bit, he met the spiked hides, and\nat last he had to yield.\n\nWhen the lad saw that, he wasn't long getting down from the tree and\nin throwing the bridle over its head, and then it was so tame you\ncould hold it with a pack-thread.\n\nAnd what do you think--that horse was dappled, too, and so like\nDapplegrim, you couldn't tell which was which. Then the lad bestrode\nthe new Dapple he had won, and rode home to the palace, and old\nDapplegrim ran loose by his side. So when he got home, there stood the\nking out in the yard.\n\n\"Can you tell me, now,\" said the lad, \"which is the horse I have\ncaught and broken, and which is the one I had before? If you can't, I\nthink your daughter is fairly mine.\"\n\nThen the king went and looked at both Dapples, high and low, before\nand behind, but there wasn't a hair on one which wasn't on the other\nas well.\n\n\"No,\" said the king, \"that I can't; and since you've got my daughter\nsuch a grand horse for her wedding, you shall have her with all my\nheart. But still we'll have one trial more, just to see whether you're\nfated to have her. First, she shall hide herself twice, and then you\nshall hide yourself twice. If you can find out her hiding-place, and\nshe can't find out yours, why, then, you're fated to have her, and so\nyou shall have her.\"\n\n\"That's not in the bargain, either,\" said the lad; \"but we must try,\nsince it must be so;\" and so the Princess went off to hide herself\nfirst.\n\nSo she turned herself into a duck, and lay swimming on a pond that was\nclose to the palace. But the lad only ran down to the stable, and\nasked Dapplegrim what she had done with herself.\n\n\"Oh, you only need take your gun,\" said Dapplegrim, \"and go down to\nthe brink of the pond, and aim at the duck which lies swimming about\nthere, and she'll soon show herself.\"\n\nSo the lad snatched his gun and ran off to the pond.\n\n\"I'll just take a pop at this duck,\" he said, and began to aim at it.\n\n\"Nay, nay, dear friend, don't shoot. It's I,\" said the Princess.\n\nSo he found her once.\n\nThe second time the Princess turned herself into a loaf of bread, and\nlaid herself on the table amongst four other loaves; and so like was\nshe to the others, no one could say which was which.\n\nBut the lad went again down to the stable to Dapplegrim, and said how\nthe Princess had hidden herself again, and he couldn't tell at all\nwhat had become of her.\n\n\"Oh, just take and sharpen a good bread-knife,\" said Dapplegrim, \"and\ndo as if you were going to cut in two the third loaf on the left hand\nof those four loaves which are lying on the dresser in the king's\nkitchen, and you'll find her soon enough.\"\n\nYes, the lad was down in the kitchen in no time, and began to sharpen\nthe biggest bread-knife he could lay his hands on; then he caught\nhold of the third loaf on the left hand, and put the knife to it, as\nthough he were going to cut it in two.\n\n\"I'll just have a slice off this loaf,\" he said.\n\n\"Nay, dear friend,\" said the Princess, \"don't cut. It's I.\"\n\nSo he found her twice.\n\nThen he was to go and hide but he and Dapplegrim had settled it so\nwell beforehand, it wasn't easy to find him. First he turned himself\ninto a fly, and hid himself in Dapplegrim's left nostril; and the\nPrincess went about hunting for him everywhere, high and low. At last\nshe wanted to go into Dapplegrim's stall, but he began to bite and\nkick, so that she daren't go near him, and so she couldn't find the\nlad.\n\n\"Well,\" she said, \"since I cannot find you, you must show where you\nare yourself;\" and in a trice the lad stood there on the stable floor.\n\nThe second time Dapplegrim told him just what to do; and then he\nturned into a clod of earth, and stuck himself between Dapple's hoof\nand shoe on the near forefoot. So the Princess hunted up and down, out\nand in, everywhere; at last she came into the stable, and wanted to go\ninto Dapplegrim's loose box. This time he let her come up to him, and\nshe pried high and low, but under his heels she couldn't come, for he\nstood firm as a rock on his feet, and so she couldn't find the lad.\n\n\"Well, you must just show yourself, for I'm sure I can't find you,\"\nsaid the Princess, and as she spoke the lad stood by her side on the\nstable floor.\n\n\"Now you are mine indeed,\" said the lad; \"for now you can see I'm\nfated to have you.\" This he said both to the father and daughter.\n\n\"Yes; it is so fated,\" said the king; \"so it must be.\"\n\nThen everything was made ready for the wedding with great splendour\nand promptitude; and the lad got on Dapplegrim, and the Princess on\nDapplegrim's match, and then you may guess they were not long on their\nway to church.\n\n\n\n\n_The Hermit_\n\n\nIn the reign of King Moabdar there lived at Babylon a young man named\nZadig. He was handsome, rich, and naturally good-hearted; and at the\nmoment when this story opens, he was travelling on foot to see the\nworld, and to learn philosophy and wisdom. But, hitherto, he had\nencountered so much misery, and endured so many terrible disasters,\nthat he had become tempted to rebel against the will of Heaven, and to\nbelieve that the Providence which rules the world neglects the good\nand lets the evil prosper. In this unhappy spirit he was one day\nwalking on the banks of the Euphrates, when he chanced to meet a\nvenerable hermit, whose snowy beard descended to his girdle, and who\ncarried in his hand a scroll which he was reading with attention.\nZadig stopped, and made him a low bow. The hermit returned the\nsalutation with an air so kindly, and so noble, that Zadig felt a\ncuriosity to speak to him. He inquired what scroll was that which he\nwas reading.\n\n\"It is the Book of Destiny,\" replied the hermit; \"would you like to\nread it?\"\n\nHe handed it to Zadig; but the latter, though he knew a dozen\nlanguages, could not understand a word of it. His curiosity increased.\n\n\"You appear to be in trouble,\" said the kindly hermit.\n\n\"Alas!\" said Zadig, \"I have cause to be so.\"\n\n\"If you will allow me,\" said the hermit, \"I will accompany you.\nPerhaps I may be useful to you. I am sometimes able to console the\nsorrowful.\"\n\nZadig felt a deep respect for the appearance, the white beard, and the\nmysterious scroll of the old hermit, and perceived that his\nconversation was that of a superior mind. The old man spoke of\ndestiny, of justice, of morality, of the chief good of life, of human\nfrailty, of virtue, and of vice, with so much power and eloquence,\nthat Zadig felt himself attracted by a kind of charm, and besought the\nhermit not to leave him until they should return to Babylon.\n\n\"I ask you the same favour,\" said the hermit. \"Promise me that,\nwhatever I may do, you will keep me company for several days.\"\n\nZadig gave the promise; and they set forth together.\n\nThat night the travellers arrived at a grand mansion. The hermit\nbegged for food and lodging for himself and his companion. The porter,\nwho might have been mistaken for a prince, ushered them in with a\ncontemptuous air of welcome. The chief servant showed them the\nmagnificent apartments; and they were then admitted to the bottom of\nthe table, where the master of the mansion did not condescend to cast\na glance at them. They were, however, served with delicacies in\nprofusion, and, after dinner, washed their hands in a golden basin set\nwith emeralds and rubies. They were then conducted for the night into\na beautiful apartment; and the next morning, before they left the\ncastle, a servant brought them each a piece of gold.\n\n\"The master of the house,\" said Zadig, as they went their way,\n\"appears to be a generous man, although a trifle haughty. He practises\na noble hospitality.\" As he spoke he perceived that a kind of large\npouch which the hermit carried appeared singularly distended; within\nit was the golden basin, set with precious stones, which the old man\nhad purloined. Zadig was amazed; but he said nothing.\n\nAt noon the hermit stopped before a little house, in which lived a\nwealthy miser, and once more asked for hospitality. An old valet in a\nshabby coat received them very rudely, showed them into the stable,\nand set before them a few rotten olives, some moldy bread, and beer\nwhich had turned sour. The hermit ate and drank with as much content\nas he had shown the night before; then, addressing the old valet, who\nhad kept his eye upon them to make sure that they stole nothing, he\ngave him the two gold pieces which they had received that morning,\nand thanked him for his kind attention. \"Be so good,\" he added, \"as\nto let me see your master.\"\n\nThe astonished valet showed them in.\n\n\"Most mighty signor,\" said the hermit, \"I can only render you my\nhumble thanks for the noble manner in which you have received us. I\nbeseech you to accept this golden basin as a token of my gratitude.\"\n\nThe miser almost fell backwards with amazement. The hermit, without\nwaiting for him to recover, set off with speed with his companion.\n\n\"Holy Father,\" said Zadig, \"what does all this mean? You seem to me to\nresemble other men in nothing. You steal a golden basin set with\njewels from a signor who receives you with magnificence, and you give\nit to a curmudgeon who treats you with indignity.\"\n\n\"My son,\" replied the hermit, \"this mighty lord, who only welcomes\ntravellers through vanity, and to display his riches, will henceforth\ngrow wiser, while the miser will be taught to practise hospitality. Be\namazed at nothing, and follow me.\"\n\nZadig knew not whether he was dealing with the most foolish or the\nwisest of all men. But the hermit spoke with such ascendancy that\nZadig, who, besides, was fettered by his promise, had no choice except\nto follow him.\n\nThat night they came to an agreeable house, of simple aspect, and\nshowing signs neither of prodigality nor avarice. The owner was a\nphilosopher, who had left the world, and who studied peacefully the\nrules of virtue and of wisdom, and who yet was happy and contented. He\nhad built this calm retreat to please himself, and he received the\nstrangers in it with a frankness which displayed no sign of\nostentation. He conducted them himself to a comfortable chamber, where\nhe made them rest awhile; then he returned to lead them to a dainty\nlittle supper. During their conversation they agreed that the affairs\nof this world are not always regulated by the opinions of the wisest\nmen, but the hermit still maintained that the ways of Providence are\nwrapped in mystery, and that men do wrong to pass judgment on a\nuniverse of which they only see the smallest part. Zadig wondered how\na person who committed such mad acts could reason so correctly.\n\nAt length, after a conversation as agreeable as instructive, the host\nconducted the two travellers to their apartment, and thanked Heaven\nfor sending him two visitors so wise and virtuous. He offered them\nsome money, but so frankly that they could not feel offended. The old\nman declined, and desired to say farewell, as he intended to depart\nfor Babylon at break of day. They therefore parted on the warmest\nterms, and Zadig, above all, was filled with kindly feelings toward so\namiable a man.\n\nWhen the hermit and himself were in their chamber, they spent some\ntime in praises of their host. At break of day the old man woke his\ncomrade.\n\n\"We must be going,\" he remarked. \"But while every one is still asleep,\nI wish to leave this worthy man a pledge of my esteem.\" With these\nwords he took a torch and set the house on fire.\n\nZadig burst forth into cries of horror, and would have stopped the\nfrightful act. But the hermit, by superior strength, drew him away.\nThe house was in a blaze; and the old man, who was now a good way off\nwith his companion, looked back calmly at the burning pile.\n\n\"Heaven be praised!\" he cried, \"our kind host's house is destroyed\nfrom top to bottom.\"\n\nAt these words Zadig knew not whether he should burst out laughing,\ncall the reverend father an old rascal, knock him down, or run away.\nBut he did neither. Still subdued by the superior manner of the\nhermit, he followed him against his will to their next lodging.\n\nThis was the dwelling of a good and charitable widow, who had a nephew\nof fourteen, her only hope and joy. She did her best to use the\ntravellers well; and the next morning she bade her nephew guide them\nsafely past a certain bridge, which, having recently been broken, had\nbecome dangerous to cross over. The youth, eager to oblige them, led\nthe way.\n\n\"Come,\" said the hermit, when they were half across the bridge, \"I\nmust show my gratitude toward your aunt;\" and as he spoke he seized\nthe young man by the hair and threw him into the river. The youth\nfell, reappeared for an instant on the surface, and then was swallowed\nby the torrent.\n\n\"Oh, monster!\" exclaimed Zadig, \"ah, most detestable of men--\"\n\n\"You promised me more patience,\" interrupted the old man. \"Listen!\nBeneath the ruins of that house which Providence saw fit to set on\nfire, the owner will discover an enormous treasure; while this young\nman, whose existence Providence cut short, would have killed his aunt\nwithin a year, and you yourself in two.\"\n\n\"Who told you so, barbarian?\" cried Zadig; \"and even if you read the\nissue in your Book of Destiny, who gave you power to drown a youth who\nnever injured you?\"\n\nWhile he spoke, he saw that the old man had a beard no longer, and\nthat his face had become fair and young; his hermit's frock had\ndisappeared; four white wings covered his majestic form, and shone\nwith dazzling lustre.\n\n\"Angel of heaven,\" cried Zadig, \"you are then descended from the skies\nto teach an erring mortal to submit to the eternal laws.\"\n\n\"Men,\" replied the angel Jezrael, \"judge all things without knowledge;\nand you, of all men, most deserved to be enlightened. The world\nimagines that the youth who has just perished fell by chance into the\nwater, and that by a like chance the rich man's house was set on fire.\nBut there is no such thing as chance; all is trial, or punishment, or\nforesight. Feeble mortal, cease to argue and rebel against what you\nought to adore!\"\n\nAs he spoke these words the angel took his flight to heaven, and Zadig\nfell upon his knees.\n\n\n\n\n_The Watch-tower Between Earth and Heaven_[5]\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a King who had three sons and one daughter.\nHe kept the daughter in a cage and guarded her as the eyes in his\nhead.\n\n[Footnote 5: From \"The Russian Grandmother's Wonder Tales.\" Copyright,\n1906, by Charles Scribner's Sons.]\n\nWhen the maiden was grown up she begged her father one evening to let\nher go out and take a walk before the castle with her brothers. The\nfather consented, but hardly was she out of the door when suddenly a\nDragon came swooping down from the sky, seized the maiden from among\nher brothers, and carried her away with him high into the clouds.\n\nThe brothers rushed headlong back to their father, told him of their\nmisfortune, and begged permission to go and seek their stolen sister.\nThe father consented, gave them each a horse and everything needful\nfor a journey, and they set out.\n\nAfter many wanderings they came across a watch-tower which stood\nneither on earth nor in heaven. When they reached the place it\noccurred to them that their sister might be within, and they at once\nbegan to take counsel among themselves as to how they should reach it.\n\nAfter long consultation they decided to kill one of their horses, cut\nhis skin into a long strap, fasten the end to an arrow, and shoot it\nup into some place in the watch-tower where it would hold securely.\nThen they could easily climb up. The two younger brothers asked the\neldest to sacrifice his horse, but he would not; nor would the second\nbrother. So the youngest brother slew his horse, cut the hide into a\nlong strap, bound one end to his arrow, and with his bow shot it up\ninto the tower.\n\nBut now, when it came to climbing up by the strap, the eldest and\nsecond brothers declined, whereupon the youngest undertook the\nadventure. Arriving at the tower, he went from room to room, until at\nlast he came to one where he saw his sister sitting, with the Dragon's\nhead in her lap, the Dragon being fast asleep.\n\nWhen the sister perceived her brother she was greatly terrified, and\nsoftly entreated him to flee before the Dragon should awake. This he\nwould not do, but seized his cudgel, struck out boldly, and dealt the\nDragon a heavy blow upon the head. The Dragon, without awaking, put\nhis hand up to the spot, murmuring, \"Something hit me right here.\"\n\nAs he said this the Prince fetched him a second blow upon the head,\nand again the Dragon murmured, \"Something hit me here.\" But now, as\nthe brother made ready to strike a third time, the sister made a sign\nshowing the Dragon's vulnerable spot; and the brother, giving a\npowerful blow, killed him as dead as a mouse.\n\nThen the Princess pushed him from her, flew into her brother's arms,\nand smothered him with kisses. After this she took him by the hand and\nbegan to lead him through all the rooms. First she led him into a room\nin which a black fox, with a harness of pure silver, was standing\nbefore a manger. Then she led him into another room, where a white\nhorse, with a harness of pure gold, stood before another manger.\nFinally she led him into a third room, where a brown horse stood\nbefore a manger, his harness all studded with diamonds.\n\nWhen they had gone through these rooms, the sister led her brother\ninto a chamber where a maiden sat before a golden embroidery frame,\nworking with golden threads. From this room she led him into another,\nwhere a second maiden was spinning gold thread, and at last into a\nroom where a third maiden was stringing pearls, while at her feet a\ngolden hen, with a brood of chickens, was picking up pearls from a\ngolden basin.\n\nWhen they had gone through all these rooms and seen all they wanted to\nsee, they went back into the room where the dead Dragon lay, dragged\nhim out, and threw him head-foremost down to the earth. When the other\nbrothers saw him they were almost convulsed with terror. But now the\nyoungest brother let down to them first their sister and then the\nthree maidens, one after another, each with her work. As he let them\ndown he allotted one to each of his brothers, and when he let down the\nthird, that is, the one with the hen and chickens, he reserved her to\nhimself.\n\nBut his brothers, filled with envy because he was the hero who had\ndiscovered all these things and rescued their sister, cut the strap to\nmake it impossible for him to return. Then they rode away, and coming\nupon a shepherd boy with his sheep, they dressed him like their\nbrother and brought him home to their father, forbidding their sister\nand the maidens, with fearful threats, under any circumstances to\nreveal the secret.\n\nAfter a time word came to the youngest brother in the tower that his\nbrothers and the shepherd were about to marry those three maidens. On\nthe day appointed for the eldest brother's wedding he mounted the\nwhite horse and flew down into the midst of the wedding-guests just as\nthey were leaving the church, and struck his brother lightly upon the\nback with his club. The brother fell from his horse and the other flew\nback to his watch-tower.\n\nWhen the second brother's wedding-day came he again flew down upon his\nsteed, gave the second brother a blow upon the back, so that he fell\nfrom his horse, and again flew away. But when he at last heard that\nthe shepherd was about to marry the third maiden he again mounted his\nsteed, flew among the wedding-guests just as they were coming out of\nthe church, and dealt the bridegroom such a blow upon the head with\nhis club that the fellow lay dead upon the spot.\n\nIn a trice the Prince was surrounded by the wedding-guests, who were\ndetermined that he should not escape this time. He made no attempt to\ndo so, however, but remained where he was, made himself known as the\nKing's youngest son, revealed the trick his brothers had played upon\nhim by means of the shepherd, and told how they had left him in the\nwatch-tower where he had found his sister and killed the Dragon.\n\nHis sister and the maidens bore witness to the truth of his story, and\nwhen the King heard all this he banished the two elder brothers from\nhis presence, married the youngest to the maiden of his choice, and\ndecreed that he should be heir to the throne after his own decease.\n\n\n\n\n_The Lucky Coin_\n\n\nMany years ago there lived in a hermitage a holy monk. From all the\nvillages around, the people, mostly poor labourers, were in the habit\nof coming to him on Sundays and festivals to hear him say mass for\nthem. These good people used to bring little offerings of food for the\nsupport of the hermit during the week.\n\nOne Sunday, after his congregation had departed, the monk perceived a\nman, laden with traps and nets for catching birds, crossing the field\nbefore the hermitage. The good monk went out to him.\n\n\"Where do you come from?\" he inquired; \"and what are you going to do,\nmy son?\"\n\n\"I live some miles from here, good father,\" he replied, \"and I have\nborrowed a few nets and traps to try to catch some doves to sell, so\nas to get a little butter for our bread; for with that and a draught\nof water from the spring my wife and I are satisfied; or else to get\nsome work to do, that I may earn enough for our support, for we have\nneither bread nor a single farthing to buy it.\"\n\nThe hermit took the man into his hermitage, and gave him the little\nofferings of food which had been brought that morning by the\nvillagers, leaving Providence to provide for his own simple wants.\n\n\"Brother,\" he said, \"take this for yourself and your wife; and if you\nwant money I will give you some. But you must first tell me which you\nchoose, to earn a single coin honestly, or a hundred, dishonestly.\"\n\nThe poor man hesitated, for great was the temptation.\n\n\"I will consult with my wife,\" he said at last, \"and return to-morrow\nto inform you.\"\n\nWith the food in his hands he returned to his miserable home, where he\nand his wife made an excellent meal, for which they returned thanks to\nHeaven. They then consulted together about the money, and, though the\ntemptation was great to take the hundred coins, yet, being God-fearing\nfolks, they decided upon taking the one coin honestly acquired and let\nalone the hundred.\n\nThe man accordingly returned to the hermit, and told him what they had\ndecided.\n\nThe good monk gave him two half _reals_.\n\n\"Take this money,\" he said; \"and may Heaven prosper you.\"\n\nFull of joy, the man departed. But on the road home, in a solitary\nspot, he encountered two lads fighting desperately; they were dealing\neach other terrible blows, and blood was streaming down their faces.\nThe man rushed up to separate them, but all his efforts only served to\nmake them fiercer.\n\n\"Why do you fight like this?\" he cried.\n\n\"We are fighting for that stone,\" replied one of the lads; \"I saw it\nfirst!\"\n\n\"No, you didn't,\" replied the other; \"it was I, and it belongs to me!\"\nand once more they fell to blows more desperate than before.\n\nThe poor man, fearing that the quarrel might end fatally, cried out to\nthem--\n\n\"Here, take each of you one of these coins, and let alone the stone;\nit is of no value, for it is no bigger than a walnut. And be off with\nyou!\"\n\nThe lads were glad to take the money, and ran away, thinking\nthemselves lucky to make so good a bargain.\n\nHis wife was at the cottage door impatiently awaiting her husband.\nGreat was her disappointment when all he brought her was a stone.\n\n\"Well, to be sure!\" she cried, after he had recounted what had taken\nplace, \"I _am_ disappointed.\" And, taking the little stone, she threw\nit into a corner of the room.\n\n\"Dear wife,\" replied the man, \"do not take it so to heart. The money\nwas spent in a good work; in making peace between the children of our\nneighbours.\"\n\nHis wife at length became more reconciled to the loss, considering\nthat after all he had done right to make peace between their\nneighbours' sons at any cost. Not many minutes after, the parents of\nthe two lads came to thank the man for having separated the boys. They\nalso thanked him for the money he had given to the boys, for they knew\nhe sorely needed it himself. Each of the parents gave him a present\nfor his friendly service; and from that day they always treated him\nmost kindly, and often gave him little jobs to do, so that the poor\ncouple never wanted bread.\n\nNot long afterwards, it happened that the King's Ambassador passed\nthat way, with a great retinue of officials, secretaries, and\nservitors; and it fell out that, night coming on, the Ambassador\ndecided upon taking his quarters in the village.\n\nThe village inns were small, and could not afford accommodation for so\nlarge a retinue, and the various cottagers were asked to take in one\nor more of the servants. Among those who gave lodgings to the retinue\nwere our good couple, who took in a lodger, for whom they were paid\nhandsomely. The wife quickly prepared a clean, tidy bed, and did her\nbest to make things comfortable.\n\nThe guest, being tired, was soon fast asleep. Toward morning he awoke,\nand was surprised to see the chamber bathed in a resplendent light.\nKnowing well that the people of the house could not afford a lamp or\ncandles, he arose to find out whence proceeded this unusual\nbrilliancy. Great was his astonishment to find that it proceeded from\na small stone in the corner of the room, which, as the sun struck on\nit, sent out rays of vivid light. He took up the stone, and, believing\nit to be of great value, took it to the Ambassador.\n\nWhen the nobleman examined the stone, he admired it greatly, and\ndesired its owner to be sent for in order to learn all particulars\nabout it.\n\n\"Please, your Excellency,\" said the poor man, \"it is of no use to us,\nand if it pleases you, take it, for it cost me only a small coin\"; and\nhe proceeded to relate how it had come into his possession.\n\nThe Ambassador drew forth a heavy bag of money, and taking out a\nhandful of gold pieces, gave them to the man.\n\n\"My good fellow,\" he said, \"since you offer me the stone, I accept it\ngladly; but as I am leaving the kingdom, and my expenses are very\nheavy, I cannot give you all that it is worth. If it please Heaven, I\nwill return this way, and I will pay you then.\"\n\nThe poor man did not like to accept so much gold for what he judged to\nbe a worthless stone; but on the nobleman's entreaty he took the\nmoney, and ran back to his wife, full of joy at his good fortune. Both\nhusband and wife then went at once to the hermit to recount to him all\nthat had taken place, and to offer him a tenth of the money. This he\nrefused to take, but bade them return to the village and distribute it\nin alms to the poor. They returned to the village accordingly and did\nas the monk had bidden them. They also gave part of the money to the\nparents of the lads who had fought so desperately for the possession\nof the stone. The rest the man spent in purchasing a piece of land.\n\nThis little plot of ground proved very fertile, and whatever the owner\nplanted produced a hundredfold. His trees were borne down by the\nweight of the fruit, which always fetched a good price.\n\nYears passed ere the Ambassador returned from the foreign country,\nwhere he had gained high honours and wealth. On passing the village\nagain where he had obtained the stone, he inquired for the good man,\nand was told how he had prospered with the money he had given him, and\nthat he was now a person of importance.\n\nOn arriving at the Court of his sovereign he recounted to the King all\nthat had taken place. The King was greatly pleased with the history of\nthe honestly earned coin, and had the stone valued by the first\njewellers of the kingdom, who all pronounced it to be a singularly\nvaluable gem. A large sum was given to the Ambassador for it, and he\nwas loaded with distinctions and honours. The nobleman, wishing to\nshow his gratitude for the honours conferred on him, sent handsome\npresents to the good man and his wife.\n\nAnd so it came to pass that they who had been honest were now\nprosperous as well.\n\n\n\n\n_The Jackal, the Barber and the Brahmin_\n\n\nA barber and a Jackal once struck up a great friendship, which might\nhave continued to this day, had not the Jackal been so clever that the\nBarber never felt quite on equal terms with him, and suspected his\nfriend of playing him many tricks. But this he was not able to prove.\n\nOne day the Jackal said to the Barber, \"It would be a nice thing for\nus to have a garden of our own, in which we might grow as many\ncucumbers, pumpkins and melons as we like. Why should we not buy one?\"\n\nThe Barber answered, \"Very well; here is money. Do you go and buy us a\ngarden.\" So the Jackal took the Barber's money, and with it bought a\nfine garden, in which were cucumbers, pumpkins, melons, figs, and many\nother good fruits and vegetables. And he used to go there every day\nand feast to his heart's content. When, however, the Barber said to\nhim, \"What is the garden like which you bought with the money I gave\nyou?\" he answered, \"There are very fine plants in it, but there is no\nfruit upon them; when the fruit is ripe I will let you know.\" This\nreply satisfied the Barber, who inquired no further at that time.\n\nA little while afterward, the Barber again asked the Jackal about the\ngarden, saying, \"I see you go down to that garden every day; is the\nfruit getting ripe?\"\n\n\"Oh dear no, not yet,\" answered the Jackal; \"why, the plants are only\njust coming into blossom.\"\n\nBut all this time there was a great deal of fruit in the garden, and\nthe Jackal went there every day and ate as much as he could.\n\nAgain, a third time, when some weeks had passed, the Barber said to\nhim, \"Is there no ripe fruit in our garden yet?\"\n\n\"No,\" said the Jackal; \"the blossoms have only just fallen, but the\nfruit is forming. In time we shall have a fine show of melons and figs\nthere.\"\n\nThen the Barber began to think the Jackal was deceiving him, and\ndetermined to see and judge for himself. So next day, without saying\nanything about it, he followed him down to the garden.\n\nNow it happened that very day the Jackal had invited all his friends\nto come and feast there. All the animals in the neighbouring jungle\nhad accepted the invitation; there they came trooping by hundreds and\ndozens, and were very merry indeed--running here and there, and eating\nall the melons and cucumbers and figs and pumpkins in the place.\n\nThe Barber peeped over the hedge, and saw the assembled wild beasts,\nand his friend the Jackal entertaining them--talking to this one,\nlaughing with that, and eating with all. The good man did not dare to\nattack the intruders, as they were many and powerful. But he went home\nat once, very angry, muttering to himself, \"I'll be the death of that\nyoung jackanapes; he shall play no more pranks in my garden.\" And,\nwatching his opportunity, he returned there when the Jackal and all\nhis friends had left, and tied a long knife to the largest of the\ncucumbers that still remained; then he went home and said nothing of\nwhat he had seen.\n\nEarly next morning the Jackal thought to himself, \"I'll just run down\nto the garden and see if there are no cucumbers or melons left.\" So he\nwent there, and, picking out the largest of the cucumbers, began to\neat it. Quick as thought, the long knife, that was concealed by the\ncucumber leaves, ran into him, cutting his muzzle, his neck and his\nside.\n\n\"Ah, that nasty Barber!\" he cried; \"this must be his doing!\" And\ninstead of going home, he ran as fast as he could, very far, far, away\ninto the jungle, and stretching himself out on a great flat rock,\nprepared to die.\n\nBut he did not die. Only for three whole days the pain in his neck and\nside was so great that he could not move; moreover, he felt very weak\nfrom loss of blood.\n\nAt the end of the third day he tried to get up, but his own blood had\nsealed him to the stone! He endeavoured to move it by his struggles,\nbut could not succeed. \"Oh dear! oh dear!\" he murmured; \"to think that\nI should recover from my wound, only to die such a horrible death as\nthis! Ah, me! here is the punishment of dishonesty!\" And, having said\nthis, he began to weep. It chanced, however, that the god of Rain\nheard his lamentations, and taking pity on the unfortunate animal, he\nsent a kindly shower, which, wetting the stone, effected his release.\n\nNo sooner was the Jackal set free than he began to think what he could\ndo to earn a livelihood, since he did not dare return to the Barber's\nhouse. It was not long before a feasible plan struck him: all around\nwas the mud made by the recent rain; he placed a quantity of it in a\nsmall chattee, covered the top over carefully with leaves (as people\ndo jars of fresh butter), and took it into a neighbouring village to\nsell.\n\nAt the door of one of the first houses to which he came stood a woman,\nto whom the Jackal said, \"Mahi, here is butter--beautiful fresh\nbutter! won't you buy some fresh butter?\"\n\nShe answered, \"Are you sure it is quite fresh? Let me see it.\"\n\nBut he replied, \"It is perfectly fresh; but if you open the chattee\nnow, it will be all spoiled by the time you want it. If you like to\nbuy it, you may take it; if not, I will sell it to some one else.\"\n\nThe woman did want some fresh butter, and the chattee the Jackal\ncarried on his head was carefully fastened up, as if what it contained\nwas of the best; and she knew if she opened it, it might spoil before\nher husband returned home; besides, she thought, if the Jackal had\nintended to deceive her, he would have been more pressing in asking\nher to buy it. So she said, \"Very well, give me the chattee; here is\nmoney for you. You are sure it is the best butter?\"\n\n\"It is the best of its kind,\" answered the Jackal; \"only be sure you\nput it in some cool place, and don't open it till it is wanted.\" And\ntaking the money, he ran away.\n\nA short time afterward the woman discovered how she had been cheated,\nand was very angry, but the Jackal was by that time far away, out of\nreach of punishment.\n\nWhen his money was spent, the Jackal felt puzzled as to how to get a\nliving, since no one would give him food and he could buy none.\nFortunately for him, just then one of the bullocks belonging to the\nvillage died. The Jackal found it lying dead by the roadside, and he\nbegan to eat it, and ate, and ate so much that at last he had got too\nfar into the animal's body to be seen by passers-by. Now, the weather\nwas hot and dry. Whilst the Jackal was in it, the bullock's skin\ncrinkled up so tightly with the heat that it became too hard for him\nto bite through, and so he could not get out again.\n\nThe Mahars of the village all came out to bury the dead bullock. The\nJackal, who was inside it, feared that if they caught him they would\nkill him, and that if they did not discover him, he would be buried\nalive; so on their approach he called out, \"People, people, take care\nhow you touch me, for I am a great saint.\" The poor people were very\nmuch frightened when they heard the dead bullock talking, and thought\nthat some mighty spirit must indeed possess it.\n\n\"Who are you, sir, and what do you want?\" they cried.\n\n\"I,\" answered the Jackal, \"am a very holy saint. I am also the god of\nyour village, and I am very angry with you because you never worship\nme nor bring me offerings.\"\n\n\"O my Lord,\" they cried, \"what offerings will please you? Tell us\nonly, and we will bring you whatever you like.\"\n\n\"Good,\" he replied. \"Then you must fetch here plenty of rice, plenty\nof flowers and a nice fat chicken; place them as an offering beside\nme, and pour a great deal of water over them, as you do at your most\nsolemn feasts, and I will forgive you your sins.\" The Mahars did as\nthey were commanded. They placed some rice and flowers, and the best\nchicken they could procure, beside the bullock, and poured water over\nit and the offering. Then, no sooner did the dry, hard Bullock's skin\nget wetted than it split in many places, and to the surprise of all\nhis worshippers, the Jackal jumped out, seized the chicken in his\nmouth, and ran away with it through the midst of them into the jungle.\nThe Mahars ran after him over hedges and ditches for many, many miles,\nbut he got away in spite of them all.\n\nOn, on he ran--on, on, for a very long way--until at last he came to a\nplace where a little kid lived under a little sicakai tree. All her\nrelations and friends were away, and when she saw him coming she\nthought to herself, \"Unless I frighten this Jackal, he will eat me.\"\nSo she ran as hard as she could up against the sicakai tree, which\nmade all the branches shake and the leaves go rustle, rustle, rustle.\nAnd when the Jackal heard the rustling noise he got frightened, and\nthought it was all the little kid's friends coming to help her. And\nshe called out to him, \"Run away, Jackal, run away. Thousands and\nthousands of Jackals have run away at that sound--run away for your\nlife.\" And the Jackal was so frightened that he ran away. So, he who\nhad deceived so many was outwitted by a simple little kid!\n\nAfter this the Jackal found his way back to his own village, where the\nBarber lived, and there for some time he used to prowl round the\nhouses every night and live upon any bones he could find. The\nvillagers did not like his coming, but did not know how to catch him,\nuntil one night his old friend the Barber (who had never forgiven him\nfor stealing the fruit from the garden) caught him in a great net,\nhaving before made many unsuccessful attempts to do so. \"Aha!\" cried\nthe Barber, \"I've got you at last, my friend. You did not escape death\nfrom the cucumber-knife for nothing! you won't get away this time.\nHere, wife! wife! see what a prize I've got.\" The Barber's wife came\nrunning to the door, and the Barber gave her the Jackal (after he had\ntied all his four legs firmly together with a strong rope), and said\nto her, \"Take this animal into the house, and be sure you don't let\nhim escape, while I go and get a knife to kill him with.\"\n\nThe Barber's wife did as she was bid, and taking the Jackal into the\nhouse, laid him down on the floor. But no sooner had the Barber gone\nthan the Jackal said to her, \"Ah, good woman, your husband will return\ndirectly and put me to death. For the love of heaven, loosen the rope\nround my feet before he comes, for one minute only, and let me drink a\nlittle water from that puddle by the door, for my throat is parched\nwith thirst.\"\n\n\"No, no, friend Jackal,\" answered the Barber's wife. \"I know well\nenough what you'll do. No sooner shall I have untied your feet than\nyou will run away, and when my husband returns and finds you are gone,\nhe will beat me.\"\n\n\"Indeed, indeed, I will not run away,\" he replied. \"Ah, kind mother,\nhave pity on me, only for one little moment.\"\n\nThen the Barber's wife thought, \"Well, it is hard not to grant the\npoor beast's last request; he will not live long enough to have many\nmore pleasures.\" So she untied the Jackal's legs and held him by a\nrope, that he might drink from the puddle. But quick as possible, he\ngave a jump and a twist and a pull, and, jerking the rope out of her\nhand, escaped once more into the jungle.\n\nFor some time he roamed up and down, living on what he could get in\nthis village or that, until he had wandered very far away from the\ncountry where the Barber lived. At last one day, by chance, he passed\na certain cottage, in which there dwelt a very poor Brahmin, who had\nseven daughters.\n\nAs the Jackal passed by, the Brahmin was saying to himself, \"Oh, dear\nme! what can I do for my seven daughters? I shall have to support them\nall my life, for they are much too poor ever to get married. If a dog\nor a jackal were to offer to take one off my hands, he should have\nher.\"\n\nNext day the Jackal called on the Brahmin, and said to him, \"You said\nyesterday, if a Jackal or a dog were to offer to marry one of your\ndaughters, you would let him have her; will you, therefore accept me\nas a son-in-law?\"\n\nThe poor Brahmin felt very much embarrassed, but it was certain he had\nsaid the words, and therefore he felt in honour bound not to retract,\nalthough he had little dreamed of ever being placed in such a\npredicament. Just at that moment all the seven daughters began crying\nfor bread, and the father had no bread to give them.\n\nObserving this, the Jackal continued, \"Let me marry one of your seven\ndaughters and I will take care of her. It will at least leave you one\nless to provide for, and I will see that she never needs food.\"\n\nThen the Brahmin's heart was softened, and he gave the Jackal his\neldest daughter in marriage, and the Jackal took her home to his den\nin the high rocks.\n\nNow you will say there never was a Jackal so clever as this. Very\ntrue, for this was not a common Jackal, or he could never have done\nall that I have told you. This Jackal was, in fact, a great Rajah in\ndisguise, who, to amuse himself, took the form of a Jackal; for he was\na great magician as well as a great prince.\n\nThe den to which he took the Brahmin's daughter looked like quite a\ncommon hole in the rocks on the outside, but inside it was a splendid\npalace, adorned with silver, and gold, and ivory and precious stones.\nBut even his own wife did not know that he was not always a Jackal,\nfor the Rajah never took his human form except every morning very\nearly, when he used to take off the Jackal skin and wash it and brush\nit, and put it on again.\n\nAfter he and his wife, the Brahmin's daughter, had lived up in their\nhome in the rocks happily for some time, who should the Jackal see one\nday but his father-in-law, the old Brahmin, climbing up the hill to\ncome and pay him a visit. The Jackal was vexed to see the Brahmin, for\nhe knew he was very poor, and thought he had most likely come to beg;\nand so it was. The Brahmin said to him, \"Son-in-law, let me come into\nyour cave and rest a little while. I want to ask you to help me, for I\nam very poor and much in need of help.\"\n\n\"Don't go into my cave,\" said the Jackal; \"it is but a poor hole, not\nfit for you to enter\" (for he did not wish his father-in-law to see\nhis fine palace); \"but I will call my wife, that you may see I have\nnot eaten her up, and she and you and I will talk over the matter, and\nsee what we can do for you.\"\n\nSo the Brahmin, the Brahmin's daughter and the Jackal all sat down on\nthe hillside together, and the Brahmin said, \"I don't know what to do\nto get food for myself, my wife, and my six daughters. Son-in-law\nJackal, cannot you help me?\"\n\n\"It is a difficult business,\" answered the Jackal, \"but I'll do what I\ncan for you;\" and he ran to his cave and fetched a large melon, and\ngave it to the Brahmin, saying, \"Father-in-law, you must take this\nmelon, and plant it in your garden, and when it grows up sell all the\nfruit you find upon it, and that will bring you in some money.\" So the\nBrahmin took the melon home with him and planted it in his garden.\n\nBy next day the melon that the Jackal had given him had grown up in\nthe Brahmin's garden into a fine plant, covered with hundreds of\nbeautiful ripe melons. The Brahmin, his wife and family were overjoyed\nat the sight. And all the neighbours were astonished, and said, \"How\nfast that fine melon plant has grown in the Brahmin's garden!\"\n\nNow it chanced that a woman who lived in a house close by wanted some\nmelons, and seeing what fine ones these were, she went down at once to\nthe Brahmin's house and bought two or three from the Brahmin's wife.\nShe took them home with her and cut them open; but then, lo and\nbehold! marvel of marvels! what a wonderful sight astonished her!\nInstead of the thick white pulp she expected to see, the whole of the\ninside of the melon was composed of diamonds, rubies and emeralds; and\nall the seeds were enormous pearls. She immediately locked her door,\nand taking with her all the money she had, ran back to the Brahmin's\nwife and said to her, \"Those were very good melons you sold me; I like\nthem so much that I will buy all the others on your melon plant.\" And\ngiving her the money she took home all the rest of the melons. Now\nthis cunning woman told none of her friends of the treasure she had\nfound, and the poor, stupid Brahmin and his family did not know what\nthey had lost, for they had never thought of opening any of the\nmelons; so that for all the precious stones they sold they only got a\nfew pice, which was very hard. Next day, when they looked out of the\nwindow, the melon plant was again covered with fine ripe melons, and\nagain the woman who had bought those which had grown the day before\ncame and bought them all. And this went on for several days. There\nwere so many melons; and all the melons were so full of precious\nstones, that the woman who bought them had enough to fill the whole\nof one room in her house with diamonds, rubies, emeralds and pearls.\n\nAt last, however, the wonderful melon plant began to wither, and when\nthe woman came to buy melons one morning, the Brahmin's wife was\nobliged to say to her, in a sad voice, \"Alas! there are no more melons\non our melon plant.\" And the woman went back to her own house very\nmuch disappointed.\n\nThat day the Brahmin and his wife and children had no money in the\nhouse to buy food with, and they all felt very unhappy to think that\nthe fine melon plant had withered. But the Brahmin's youngest\ndaughter, who was a clever girl, thought, \"Though there are no more\nmelons fit to sell on our melon plant, perhaps I may be able to find\none or two shriveled ones, which, if cooked, will give us something\nfor dinner.\" So she went out to look, and searching carefully amongst\nthe thick leaves, found two or three withered little melons still\nremaining. These she took into the house and began cutting them up to\ncook, when--more wonderful than wonderful!--within each little melon\nshe found a number of small emeralds, rubies, diamonds and pearls! The\ngirl called her father and mother and her five sisters, crying, \"See\nwhat I have found! See these precious stones and pearls. I dare say,\ninside all the melons we sold there were as good or better than these.\nNo wonder that woman was so anxious to buy them all! See, father--see,\nmother--see, sisters!\"\n\nThen they were all overjoyed to see the treasure, but the Brahmin\nsaid, \"What a pity we have lost all the benefit of my son-in-law the\nJackal's good gift by not knowing its worth! I will go at once to that\nwoman, and try and make her give us back the melons she took.\"\n\nSo he went to the melon-buyer's house, and said to her, \"Give me back\nthe melons you took from me, who did not know their worth.\"\n\nShe answered, \"I don't know what you mean.\"\n\nHe replied. \"You were very deceitful; you bought melons full of\nprecious stones from us poor people, who did not know what they were\nworth, and you only paid for them the price of common melons; give me\nsome of them back, I pray you.\"\n\nBut she said, \"I bought common melons from your wife, and made them\nall into common soup long ago; therefore talk no further nonsense\nabout jewels, but go about your business.\" And she turned him out of\nthe house. Yet all this time she had a whole roomful of the emeralds,\ndiamonds, rubies and pearls that she had found in the melons the\nBrahmin's wife had sold her.\n\nThe Brahmin returned home and said to his wife, \"I cannot make that\nwoman give me back any of the melons you sold her; but give me the\nprecious stones our daughter has just found, and I will sell them to a\njeweller and bring home some money.\" So he went to the town, and took\nthe precious stones to a jeweller, and said to him, \"What will you\ngive me for these?\"\n\nBut no sooner did the jeweller see them than he said, \"How could such\na poor man as you become possessed of such precious stones? You must\nhave stolen them: you are a thief! You have stolen these from my shop,\nand now come to sell them to me!\"\n\n\"No, no, sir; indeed no, sir,\" cried the Brahmin.\n\n\"Thief, thief!\" shouted the jeweller.\n\n\"In truth, no sir,\" said the Brahmin; \"my son-in-law, the Jackal, gave\nme a melon plant, and in one of the melons I found these jewels.\"\n\n\"I don't believe a word you say,\" screamed the jeweller (and he began\nbeating the Brahmin, whom he held by the arm); \"give up those jewels\nwhich you have stolen from my shop.\"\n\n\"No, I won't,\" roared the Brahmin; \"oh! oh-o! oh-o-o! don't beat me\nso; I didn't steal them.\" But the jeweller was determined to get the\njewels; so he beat the Brahmin and called the police, who came running\nup to his assistance, and shouted till a great crowd of people had\ncollected round his shop. Then he said to the Brahmin, \"Give me up the\njewels you stole from me, or I'll give you to the police, and you\nshall be put in jail.\" The Brahmin tried to tell his story about his\nson-in-law, the Jackal but of course nobody believed him; and he was\nobliged to give the precious stones to the jeweller in order to escape\nthe police, and to run home as fast as he could. And every one thought\nthe jeweller was very kind to let him off so easily.\n\nAll his family were very unhappy when they heard what had befallen\nhim. But his wife said, \"You had better go again to our son-in-law,\nthe Jackal, and see what he can do for us.\"\n\nSo next day the Brahmin climbed the hill again, as he had done before,\nand went to call upon the Jackal. When the Jackal saw him coming he\nwas not very well pleased. So he went to meet him, and said,\n\"Father-in-law, I did not expect to see you again so soon.\"\n\n\"I merely came to see how you were,\" answered the Brahmin, \"and to\ntell you how poor we are; and how glad we should be of any help you\ncan give us.\"\n\n\"What have you done with all the melons I gave you?\" asked the Jackal.\n\n\"Ah,\" answered the Brahmin, \"that is a sad story!\" And beginning at\nthe beginning, he related how they had sold almost all the melons\nwithout knowing their value; and how the few precious stones they had\nfound had been taken from him by the jeweller.\n\nWhen the Jackal heard this he laughed very much, and said; \"I see it\nis no use giving such unfortunate people as you gold or jewels, for\nthey will only bring you into trouble. Come, I'll give you a more\nuseful present.\"\n\nSo, running into his cave, he fetched thence a small chattee, and gave\nit to the Brahmin, saying, \"Take this chattee; whenever you or any of\nthe family are hungry, you will always find in it as good a dinner as\nthis.\" And putting his paw into the chattee, he extracted thence\ncurrie and rice, pilau, and all sorts of good things, enough to feast\na hundred men; and the more he took out of the chattee, the more\nremained inside.\n\nWhen the Brahmin saw the chattee and smelt the good dinner, his eyes\nglistened for joy; and he embraced the Jackal, saying, \"Dear\nson-in-law, you are the only support of our house.\" And he took his\nnew present carefully home with him.\n\nAfter this, for some time, the whole family led a very happy life, for\nthey never wanted good food; every day the Brahmin, his wife and his\nsix daughters found inside the chattee a most delicious dinner; and\nevery day, when they had dined, they placed it on a shelf, to find it\nreplenished when next it was needed.\n\nBut it happened that hard by there lived another Brahmin, a very great\nman, who was much in the Rajah's confidence; and this man smelt daily\nthe smell of a very nice dinner, which puzzled him a great deal. The\nrich Brahmin thought it smelt even nicer than his own dinner, for\nwhich he paid so much, and yet it seemed to come from the poor\nBrahmin's little cottage. So one day he determined to find out all\nabout it; and, going to call on his neighbour, he said to him, \"Every\nday, at about twelve o'clock, I smell such a very nice dinner--much\nnicer than my own; and it seems to come from your house. You must live\non very good things, I think, although you seem to every one to be so\nvery poor.\"\n\nThen, in the pride of his heart, the poor Brahmin invited his rich\nneighbour to come and dine with him, and lifting the magic chattee\ndown from the shelf, took out of it such delicate fare as the other\nhad never before tasted. And in an evil hour he proceeded to tell his\nfriend of the wondrous properties of the chattee, which his\nson-in-law, the Jackal, had given him, and how it never was empty. No\nsooner had the great man learned all this than he went to the Rajah,\nand said to him, \"There is a poor Brahmin in the town who possesses a\nwonderful chattee, which is always filled with the most delicious\ndinner. I should not feel authorized to deprive him of it; but if it\npleased your Highness to take it from him, he could not complain.\"\n\nThe Rajah, hearing this, determined to see and taste for himself. So\nhe said, \"I should very much like to see this chattee with my own\neyes.\" And he accompanied the rich Brahmin to the poor Brahmin's\nhouse. The poor Brahmin was overjoyed at being noticed by the Rajah\nhimself, and gladly exhibited the various excellences of the chattee;\nbut no sooner did the Rajah taste the dinner it contained than he\nordered his guards to seize it and take it away to the palace, in\nspite of the Brahmin's tears and protestations. Thus, for a second\ntime, he lost the benefit of his son-in-law's gift.\n\nWhen the Rajah had gone, the Brahmin said to his wife; \"There is\nnothing to be done but to go again to the Jackal, and see if he can\nhelp us.\"\n\n\"If you don't take care, you'll put him out of all patience at last,\"\nanswered she. \"I can't think why you need have gone talking about our\nchattee!\"\n\nWhen the Jackal heard the Brahmin's story, he became very cross, and\nsaid, \"What a stupid old man you were to say anything about the\nchattee! But see, here is another, which may aid you to get back the\nfirst. Take care of it, for this is the last time I will help you.\"\nAnd he gave the Brahmin a chattee, in which was a stout stick tied to\na very strong rope. \"Take this,\" he said, \"into the presence of those\nwho deprived you of my other gifts, and when you open the chattee,\ncommand the stick to beat them; this it will do so effectually that\nthey will gladly return you what you have lost; only take care not to\nopen the chattee when you are alone, or the stick that is in it will\npunish your rashness.\"\n\nThe Brahmin thanked his son-in-law, and took away the chattee, but he\nfound it hard to believe all that had been said. So, going through the\njungle on his way home, he uncovered it, just to peep in and see if\nthe stick were really there. No sooner had he done this than out\njumped the rope, out jumped the stick; the rope seized him and bound\nhim to a tree, and the stick beat him, and beat him, and beat him,\nuntil he was nearly killed.\n\n\"Oh dear! oh dear!\" screamed the Brahmin; \"what an unlucky man I am!\nOh dear! oh dear! stop, please, stop! good stick, stop! what a very\ngood stick this is!\" But the stick would not stop, but beat him so\nmuch that he could hardly crawl home again.\n\nThen the Brahmin put the rope and stick back again into the chattee,\nand sent to his rich neighbour and to the Rajah, and said to them, \"I\nhave a new chattee, much better than the old one; do come and see what\na fine one it is.\" And the rich Brahmin and the Rajah thought, \"This\nis something good; doubtless there is a choice dinner in this chattee\nalso, and we will take it from this foolish man, as we did the other.\"\nSo they went down to meet the Brahmin in the jungle, taking with them\nall their followers and attendants. Then the Brahmin uncovered his\nchattee, saying, \"Beat, stick, beat! beat them every one!\" and the\nstick jumped out, and the rope jumped out, and the rope caught hold of\nthe Rajah and the rich Brahmin and all their attendants, and tied them\nfast to the trees that grew around, and the stick ran from one to\nanother, beating, beating, beating--beating the Rajah, beating his\ncourtiers--beating the rich Brahmin, beating his attendants, and\nbeating all their followers; while the poor Brahmin cried with all his\nmight, \"Give me back my chattee! give me back my chattee!\"\n\nAt this the Rajah and his people were very much frightened, and\nthought they were going to be killed. And the Rajah said to the\nBrahmin, \"Take away your stick, only take away your stick, and you\nshall have back your chattee.\" So the Brahmin put the stick and rope\nback into the chattee, and the Rajah returned him the dinner-making\nchattee. And all the people felt very much afraid of the Brahmin, and\nrespected him very much.\n\nThen he took the chattee containing the rope and stick to the house of\nthe woman who had bought the melons, and the rope caught her and the\nstick beat her; and the Brahmin cried, \"Return me those melons! return\nme those melons!\"\n\nAnd the woman said, \"Only make your stick stop beating me and you\nshall have back all the melons.\" So he ordered the stick back into the\nchattee, and she returned them to him forthwith--a whole roomful of\nmelons full of diamonds, pearls, emeralds, and rubies.\n\nThe Brahmin took them home to his wife, and going into the town, with\nthe help of his good stick, forced the jeweller who had deprived him\nof the little emeralds, rubies, diamonds and pearls he had taken to\nsell to give them back to him again, and having accomplished this, he\nreturned to his family, and from that time they all lived very\nhappily. Then, one day, the Jackal's wife invited her six sisters to\ncome and pay her a visit. Now the youngest sister was more clever than\nany of the others; and it happened that, very early in the morning,\nshe saw her brother-in-law, the Jackal, take off the Jackal skin and\nwash it and brush it, and hang it up to dry; and when he had taken off\nthe jackal-skin coat, he looked the handsomest prince that ever was\nseen. Then his little sister-in-law ran, quickly and quietly, and\nstole away the Jackal-skin coat, and threw it on the fire and burned\nit. And she awoke her sister, and said, \"Sister, sister, your husband\nis no longer a jackal: see, that is he standing by the door.\"\n\nSo the Jackal Rajah's wife ran to the door to meet her husband, and\nbecause the jackal's skin was burned, and he could wear it no longer,\nhe continued to be a man for the rest of his life, and gave up playing\nall jackal-like pranks; and he and his wife, and his father and mother\nand sisters-in-law, lived very happily all the rest of their days.\n\n\n\n\n_The Bird of Truth_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a very poor fisherman, who lived in a\nlittle hut on the banks of a river. This river, although deep, was\ncalm and clear, and, gliding from the sun and noise, would hide itself\namong the trees, reeds, and brambles, in order to listen to the birds\nwho delighted it with their songs.\n\nOne day when the fisherman went out in his boat to cast his nets, he\nsaw a casket of crystal slowly drifting along with the stream. He\nrowed toward it, but what was his horror at seeing two little babies,\napparently twins, lying in it upon a bundle of cotton! The poor\nfisherman pitied them, took them out, and carried them home to his\nwife.\n\n\"What have you got there?\" she exclaimed, as he presented them to her.\n\"We have eight children already, and as if that were not enough, you\nmust bring me some more!\"\n\n\"Wife,\" replied the poor fisherman, \"what could I do? I found these\ndear little creatures floating on the river below, and they would have\ndied of hunger, or have been drowned, if I had not rescued them.\nHeaven, which has sent us these two more children, will assist us to\nprovide for them.\"\n\nAnd so it proved; and the little ones, a boy and a girl, grew up\nhealthy and robust, together with the eight other children. They were\nboth so good, so docile, and so peaceable, that the fisherman and his\nwife loved them exceedingly, and always held them up as examples to\nthe other children; but they, envious and enraged, did them a thousand\ninjustices and injuries. To escape from these cruelties, the twins\nwould take refuge together among the thickets and on the river's\nbanks; there they would divert themselves with the birds, and carry\ncrumbs of bread to them; and the birds, grateful to them for their\nkindness, would fly to meet them, and teach them the bird-language.\nThe children learned to converse with the birds very quickly, and thus\nthey could amuse themselves with their feathered friends, who also\ntaught them many other very good and useful things, one of them being\nhow to get up early in the morning, and another, how to sing. One day\nwhen the fisherman's children were more annoying than they had ever\nbeen before, they said to the twins:\n\n\"We are the true-born children of Christians, but you, with all your\nneatness and superiority, are but castaways, without any other father\nor mother than the river, and belong to the toads and frogs!\"\n\nUpon receiving this insult the poor brother and sister were so filled\nwith shame and distress that they determined to go right away from\nhome and travel in search of their real parents At the early dawn next\nday they got up and went forth without any one knowing it, and began\ntheir journey, travelling they knew not whither.\n\nHalf the day passed by, and they had not perceived as yet any abode,\nnor seen a single living being. They were hungry, thirsty, and tired,\nwhen on turning round a hillside, they discovered a little house and,\non reaching it, they found it empty and its inhabitants absent.\n\nThoroughly disheartened, they seated themselves on a bench in the\ndoorway to rest. After a little while they noticed a number of\nswallows collected together under the eaves of the roof, and as these\nbirds are such chatter-boxes, they began to prattle with one another.\nHaving learned the language of birds, the children knew what the\nswallows said.\n\n\"Holloa! my lady friend,\" said one of the birds, who had a somewhat\nrustic air about it, to another that was of a very elegant and\ndistinguished mien, \"my eyes are glad to see you once more! I thought\nyou had forgotten your country friends. How do you live in the\npalace?\"\n\n\"I possess the nest of my ancestors,\" replied the other, \"and as yet\nthey have not disinherited me, although, like yours, it is a century\nold. But tell me before all,\" continued she with admirable finesse,\n\"how you and all your family are.\"\n\n\"Well, thank heaven, for although I have had my little Mariguita laid\nup with an inflammation of the eyes that was within an ace of leaving\nher blind, when I obtained our old remedy, the _pito-real_, it cured\nher as if by magic.\"\n\n\"But what news have you to relate to me, friend Beatrice? Does the\nnightingale still sing well? Does the lark soar as high as of yore?\nDoes the linnet still prune itself?\"\n\n\"Sister,\" responded the swallow, \"I have nothing but downright\nscandals to tell you of. Our flock, which formerly was so innocent and\ntemperate, is utterly lost, and has quite taken to the manners of\nmankind. It is heartbreaking!\"\n\n\"What! Simple customs and innocence not to be found in the country,\nnor among birds? My dear friend, what do you tell me?\"\n\n\"The pure truth and nothing more. Just figure to yourself that on our\narrival here, whom should we meet but those chattering linnets, who\nwent off in search of cold and storm when the spring came with long\ndays and bright flowers! We tried to dissuade the crazy creatures, but\nthey answered us with the utmost insolence.\"\n\n\"What did they say?\"\n\n\"They said to us--\n\n    'Whither do we go?\n    Whence come _you_, gossips,\n    Who travel so little\n    And talk so much?'\n\nThis was their reply to us, and on hearing it, we made them march to\ndouble-quick time.\"\n\n\"What do I hear!\" exclaimed the interlocutor. \"That any one has dared\nto accuse us, the most truthful and discreet of birds, of being\ngossips?\"\n\n\"Then what will you think when I tell you,\" said the first speaker,\n\"that the lark, who was so timid and ladylike, has become an insolent\npilferer, and that--\n\n    The lady lark upon her flight\n      Pilfers pulse and pilfers maize\n    Before the very sower's sight,\n      And at his anger pertly says,\n    'Sower, sower, more seed sow,\n      As that sown can never grow'?\"\n\n\"I am astounded!\"\n\n\"That is only half my story. When we arrived here, and I wished to\nenter my nest, I found a shameless sparrow making himself quite at\nhome in it. 'This nest is mine,' I said to him. 'Yours?' he answered\nrudely, and began to laugh. 'Mine and mine only.' 'Property is\nrobbery,' piped he quite coolly. 'Sir, are you crazy?' I said to him.\n'My ancestors built this nest, my parents educated me in it, and in it\nI mean to bring up my children.' Then at seeing me fainting, all my\ncompanions began to weep. By the time I recovered my consciousness;\nour husbands had put an end to the thieving rascal. But you, sister,\nnever see such scandals in the palace.\"\n\n\"Don't we! Ah, if you only knew!\"\n\n\"Do tell us! do tell us!\" exclaimed all the swallows with one voice.\nWhen silence had been re-established, thanks to a loud and prolonged\nhus-s-s-sh, uttered by an elder, the court dame began her story in\nthese terms.\n\n\"You must know that the king fell in love with the youngest daughter\nof a tailor who lived near the palace, and married her; the girl\ndeserved his love, for she was as good as she was beautiful, and as\nmodest as she was discreet. It so happened that the king had to go to\nthe wars and leave his poor wife in the saddest and most perplexed\nposition, for his ministers and courtiers who were very indignant at\nhaving a tailor's daughter for their queen, conspired to ruin her. And\nthey availed themselves of the first opportunity. During the king's\nabsence beautiful twins were born, a boy and a girl; but the wicked\nconspirators sent to tell him that the queen had for children a cat\nand a serpent.\n\n\"When the king received this intelligence, he was furious and sent off\na royal mandate that the queen should be entombed alive, and the\nchildren cast into the river. This was done: the beautiful queen was\nshut up in a stone vault, and her little darling twins were placed in\na crystal coffer, and left to the mercy of the stream.\"\n\nWhen they heard the fate of the poor queen and her innocent babes, the\nswallows, who are very kind and affectionate, began to lament most\nheartily, whilst the twins looked at each other in amazement,\nsuspecting it to be very probable that they themselves were the\ncastaway children.\n\nThe city swallow continued her narrative:\n\n\"But now hear how God frustrated the plots of these traitors. The\nqueen was entombed; but her attendant, who was very devoted to her,\ncontrived to make a hole in the wall, and supplied her with food\nthrough it, as we do to our little ones through our nests, and thus\nthe lady lives, although a life of misery. Her children were rescued\nby a good fisherman, who has brought them up, so a friend of mine,\nMartin Fisher, who lives on the banks of the river, has informed me.\"\n\nThe twins, who had heard the whole story, were delighted that they had\nlearned the language of birds; which indeed, is a proof that we should\nnever neglect any opportunity of learning for, when least we think it,\nwhat we have learned may prove of great utility to us.\n\n\"So then,\" said the swallows joyfully, \"when these children are older,\nthey will be able to regain their place at their father's side, and\nliberate their mother.\"\n\n\"That is not so easy,\" said the narrator, \"because they will not be\nable to prove their identity, nor prove their mother's innocence, nor\nthe malice of the Ministry. There is only one method by which they\nwould be able to undeceive the king.\"\n\n\"And what is that? What is that?\" cried all the swallows together.\n\"And how do you know it?\"\n\n\"I know it,\" responded the narrator, \"because one day when I was\npassing by the palace garden, I met and had a chat with a cuckoo, who,\nas you know, is a conjuror, and can foretell what will happen. As we\nwere discoursing with each other on the affairs of the palace, he said\nto me--\"\n\nThe children and the swallows were listening now with redoubled\nattention, and even the young swallows were thrusting their little\nbald heads so far out of their nests, that they were in great peril of\nfalling.\n\n\"'The only one who is able to persuade the king,' said the cuckoo to\nme, 'is the Bird of Truth, who speaks the language of men, although\nthey for the most part do not know truth, and do not wish to\nunderstand it.' 'And this bird, where is it?' I asked the cuckoo.\n'This bird,' he answered, 'is in the castle of Go and Return Not; the\ncastle is guarded by a ferocious giant who only sleeps one quarter of\nan hour in the day. If when he wakes up any one should be within reach\nof his tremendous arm, he seizes and swallows him as we should a\nmosquito.'\"\n\n\"And where is this castle?\" inquired the inquisitive Beatrice.\n\n\"That is what I do not know,\" responded her friend; \"all that I know\nabout it is, that not far from it is a tower in which dwells a wicked\nwitch, who knows the way and will point it out to any one who will\nbring her from the fountain that flows there, the Water of Many\nColours, which water she makes use of in her enchantments. But I\nshould also tell you that she would like to destroy the Bird of Truth,\nthough as no one is able to kill this bird, what she and her friend,\nthe giant, do is to keep it a prisoner guarded by the Birds of\nFalsehood who will not let it speak a single word.\"\n\n\"Then will nobody be able to inform the poor queen's son where they\nhave hidden the Bird of Truth?\" inquired the country swallows.\n\n\"Nobody,\" replied the city bird, \"but a pious red owl, who lives as a\nhermit in the desert, but who knows no more of the language of men\nthen the word 'Cross,' which he learned when, at Calvary, he beheld\nthe Crucifixion of the Redeemer, and which he has never ceased from\nsorrowfully repeating. And thus he will not be able to understand the\nprince, even supposing the impossible event should ever happen of the\nboy finding him out. But, my dear friends, I must say good-bye, for I\nhave spent the whole afternoon in this pleasant chat. The sun is\nseeking his nest in the depths of the sea, and I am going to seek\nmine, where my little ones will be wondering what has happened to me.\nGood-bye, friend Beatrice.\"\n\nSo saying, the swallow took to flight, and the children in their joy,\nfeeling neither hunger nor fatigue, got up and pursued their way in\nthe same direction that the bird had flown.\n\nAt the hour of evening service the children arrived at a city which\nthey imagined must be that in which the king, their father, dwelt.\nThey begged a good woman to give them shelter for the night, and this,\nseeing they were so well-spoken and well-mannered, she kindly granted.\n\nThe following morning had scarcely dawned when the girl arose and\ntidied the house, and the boy drew the water and watered the garden,\nso that when the good woman got up she found all the housework done.\nShe was so pleased with this that she proposed to the children that\nthey should remain and live with her. The boy said that his sister\nmight, but that it was necessary for him to arrange some business\nmatters, for which he had come to the city. So he departed, and\nfollowed a chance road, praying to heaven to guide his steps and bring\nhis enterprise to a successful ending.\n\nFor three days he followed various byways, but without seeing any\nvestige of the tower; on the fourth, sad and weary he seated himself\nunder the shadow of a tree. After a short time he saw a little\nturtle-dove arrive and rest among the branches of the tree; so he said\nto it in its own language:\n\n\"Little turtle-dove, I wish you could tell me where the castle of Go\nand Return Not is?\"\n\n\"Poor boy,\" responded the turtle-dove, \"who bore you such ill-will as\nto send you there?\"\n\n\"It is my good or my evil fortune,\" replied the boy.\n\n\"Then if you wish to know it,\" said the bird, \"follow the Wind, which\nto-day blows toward it!\"\n\nThen the boy thanked the turtle-dove and recommenced his journey,\nfollowing the course of the wind as it changed and chopped about to\ndifferent points of the compass. The country gradually grew sadder\nand more arid; and, as night approached, the path led between bare and\nsombre rocks, a vast black mass among them being the tower wherein\ndwelt the witch whom the boy was in search of. The sight of the\nhideous place terrified him at first; but as he was brave--like every\none whose aim is the furtherance of a good work--he advanced boldly.\nWhen he reached the tower, he picked up a big stone and struck the\ngate with it three times; the hollows of the rocks reverberated with\nthe sounds, as if sighs were uttered from their very entrails.\n\nThen the door opened, and there appeared in the doorway an old woman\ncarrying a candle that lit up her face, which was so wrinkled and so\nfrightful that the poor boy recoiled in horror. Quite an army of\nbeetles, lizards, salamanders, spiders and other vermin surrounded the\nwitch.\n\n\"How dare you disturb me, impudent beggar,\" she exclaimed, \"by coming\nto knock at my door? What do you want? Speak quickly!\"\n\n\"Madam,\" said the boy, \"knowing that you alone know the way which\nleads to the castle of Go and Return Not, I come to ask you, if you\nplease, to point it out to me.\"\n\nThe old woman made a grimace, intended for a mocking smile, and\nanswered:\n\n\"Very well; but now it is too late. You shall go to-morrow. Come in,\nand you shall sleep with these little insects.\"\n\n\"I am not able to stay,\" replied the boy. \"It is necessary that I\nshould go at once, as I have to return by daybreak to the place whence\nI came.\"\n\n\"May dogs worry you, and cats tear you, you stubborn boy,\" growled the\nold witch angrily. \"If I tell you the way,\" she added, \"it will only\nbe upon condition that you bring me this jar full of the Water of Many\nColours, which flows from the fountain in the courtyard of the castle;\nand if you do not bring it to me, I will change you into a lizard for\nall eternity.\"\n\n\"Agreed!\" cried the boy in return.\n\nThen the old woman called a poor dog, which looked very thin and\nwretched, and said to it:\n\n\"Up! conduct this good-for-naught to the castle of Go and Return Not,\nand be careful that you inform my friend of his arrival.\"\n\nThe dog snarled, shook himself savagely, and set forth. At the end of\nabout two hours they arrived in front of a very black, enormous, and\ngloomy castle, whose portals stood wide open, though neither light nor\nsound gave any indication that it was inhabited; even the rays of the\nmoon, as they were reflected upon the sombre and lifeless mass, seemed\nto make it still more horrible.\n\nAs he went forward the dog began to howl; but the boy, who knew not\nwhether this was the giant's hour for sleep, stopped and rested\nhimself timorously against the trunk of a withered and leafless wild\nolive, which was the only tree to be found in that parched and naked\ndistrict.\n\n\"Heaven help me!\" exclaimed the boy.\n\n\"Cross! cross!\" responded a sad voice among the branches of the olive.\nJoyfully the boy recognized the hermit owl which the swallow had\nmentioned, and said to it in the language of birds:\n\n\"Poor little owl, I beg you will help and guide me. I am come in\nsearch of the Bird of Truth, and I have to carry the Water of Many\nColours to the witch of the tower.\"\n\n\"Do not do that,\" responded the owl; \"but when you have filled the jar\nwith the clear, pure water that flows from a spring at the foot of the\nfountain of Water of Many Colours, go in quickly to the aviary, which\nyou will find in front of the doorway; do not take any notice of the\nvarious coloured birds that will come to meet you and deafen you by\nall shouting out together that they are the Bird of Truth; then seize\na little white bird which the others thrust on one side and persecute\nceaselessly, but cannot kill, because it cannot die. But go quickly,\nfor at this moment the giant is just going to sleep, and his sleep\nonly lasts for a quarter of an hour!\"\n\nThe boy began to run; he entered into the courtyard, where he found\nthat the fountain had many spouts whence poured waters of different\ncolours, but he did not look at them; he filled his jar at the spring\nof pure, clear water which flowed from the spring at the foot of the\nfountain, and then made his way to the aviary. Scarcely had he\nentered it, when he was surrounded by a troop of birds, some plovers,\nsome black ravens, and others gorgeous peacocks, each one declaring\nitself to be the Bird of Truth. The boy did not linger with them, but\nwent right forward, and finding the white bird he was in search of\nhuddled in the corner, he took it, placed it in his bosom, and went\nforth, not however, without distributing a few good blows among the\nenemies of the Bird of Truth.\n\nThe boy did not cease running until he reached the witch's tower. When\nhe arrived, the old wretch seized the jar and flung all the contents\nat him, thinking that it was the water of many colours, and that he\nwould be changed by it into a parrot; but as it was pure and clear\nwater, the boy only became handsomer than he was before.\n\nAt the same time she had drenched all the insects, who were really\npeople that had arrived there with the same intention as the little\nprince, and who were immediately changed back into their original\nforms--the beetles into knights errant, the lizards into princesses,\ngrasshoppers into dancers, crickets into musicians, flies into\njournalists, spiders into young ladies, _curianas_ (black flies) into\nstudents, the weevils into boys, and so forth. When the old witch saw\nthis, she seized a broom and flew away. Then the disenchanted people,\nthe ladies, gentlemen, girls and boys thanked their liberator and\naccompanied him on his way back to the city.\n\nYou may imagine how delighted his sister was when she saw the young\nprince return with the Bird of Truth. But a very great difficulty\nstill remained, and that was, how the bird could be got into the\npresence of the king without the knowledge of the courtiers, who were\ninterested in preventing him from discovering the crime which they had\ncommitted. And what was more, the Court having learned that the Bird\nof Truth had been found, the news inspired such dread that few were\nable to sleep tranquilly in their beds. All kinds of weapons were\nprepared against it; some sharpened, others envenomed; hawks were\ntrained to pursue it; cages were prepared in which to imprison it, if\nit were found impossible to kill it; they slandered it, saying that\nits whiteness was an artificial paint, with which it coated its black\nplumage; they satirized and ridiculed it in every possible manner. At\nlast so much was said about the Bird of Truth, that it reached the\nking's ears, who wished to see it; and the more that the courtiers\nintrigued to prevent it, the more he desired to view the bird.\nFinally, his Majesty issued a proclamation, that whoever had the Bird\nof Truth in his possession, was to present himself without delay to\nthe king.\n\nThis was the very thing that the boy had wished for. So he hastened to\nthe palace, carrying the Bird of Truth in his bosom; but, as you can\nimagine, the courtiers would not allow him to enter. Then the bird,\ntaking flight, entered into the royal household by a window, and\npresenting itself before the king, said:\n\n\"Sir, I am the Bird of Truth; the boy who brought me here in his bosom\nhas not been allowed by the courtiers to enter.\"\n\nThe king commanded that the boy should be brought in at once, and he\nentered with his sister, who had accompanied him to the palace. When\nthey came into the royal presence the king inquired who they were.\n\n\"That the Bird of Truth can tell your Majesty,\" said the boy.\n\nAnd, questioned by the king, the bird answered that the children were\nhis Majesty's own, and informed him of all that had happened. As soon\nas the king heard the story of the treason, with tears of joy he\nclasped the children in his arms, and ordered masons to open the vault\nin which the good queen had been so many years entombed. When the poor\nlady came forth she was so white that she looked like a statue of\nmarble; but as soon as she beheld her children, the blood rushed from\nher heart to her cheeks, and she became again as beautiful as she had\never been before. The king embraced her, and seated her on the throne\nwith her children by her side. Then he ordered the good fisherman to\nbe fetched, and created him chief of the Ministry of Fishing; and the\nqueen's faithful attendant, who had saved her mistress's life, he\npensioned off, and created a duchess, and he distributed many other\ngifts and benefits to celebrate the most joyful occasion of his life.\n\n\n\n\n_The Two Genies_\n\n\nEvery one in the province of Candahar knows the adventures of young\nRustem. He was the only son of a Mirza of that country--or as we might\nsay, a lord. His father, the Mirza, had a good estate. Rustem was to\nbe married to the daughter of a Mirza of his own rank, as both\nfamilies ardently desired. He was intended to be the comfort of his\nparents, to make his wife happy, and to be happy with her.\n\nBut, unfortunately, he had seen the Princess of Cashmere at the great\nfair at Cabul, which is the most important fair in the whole world.\nAnd this was the reason why the old Prince of Cashmere had brought his\ndaughter to the fair: he had lost the two most precious objects in his\ntreasury; one was a diamond as big as my thumb, on which, by an art\nthen known to the Indians, but now forgotten, a portrait of his\ndaughter was engraved; the other was a javelin, which of its own\naccord would strike whatever mark the owner wished.\n\nA fakir in his Highness's train had stolen these treasures, and\ncarried them to the Princess. \"Take the greatest care of these two\nthings,\" said he; \"your fate depends upon them.\" Then he went away,\nand was seen no more.\n\nThe Prince of Cashmere, in great despair at his loss, determined to\ntravel to the fair at Cabul, to see whether among all the merchants\nwho collected there from the four quarters of the earth, there might\nnot be one who had his diamond or his weapon. He took his daughter\nwith him wherever he went, and unknown to him she carried the diamond\nsafe in her girdle; but as for the javelin, which she could not\nconveniently hide, she left it in Cashmere, safely locked up in a\nlarge Chinese chest.\n\nAt Cabul she and Rustem saw each other, and they fell in love, with\nall the ardour of their nation. As a love-token the Princess gave him\nthe diamond; and, at parting, Rustem promised to go to see her\nsecretly in Cashmere.\n\nThe young Mirza had two favourite attendants who served him as\nsecretaries, stewards and body-servants. One was named Topaz; he was\nhandsome and well-made, as fair as a Circassian beauty, as gentle and\nobliging as an Armenian, and as wise as a Parsee. The other was called\nEbony; a good-looking Negro, more active and more industrious than\nTopaz, and one who never made objections. To them he spoke about his\njourney. Topaz tried to dissuade him with the cautious zeal of a\nservant who is anxious not to offend, and reminded him of all the\nrisks. How could he leave two families in despair, and cut his parents\nto the heart? He shook Rustem's purpose; but Ebony once more confirmed\nit, and removed his scruples.\n\nThe young man had not money enough for so long a journey. Wise Topaz\nwould have refused to get it for him. Ebony provided it. He quietly\nstole his master's diamond, and had a false one made exactly like it,\nwhich he put in its place, pledging the real one to an Armenian for\nmany thousands of rupees.\n\nAs soon as Rustem had the rupees he was ready to start An elephant was\nloaded with his baggage, and they set out on horseback.\n\n\"I took the liberty,\" said Topaz to his master, \"of remonstrating\nagainst your enterprise; but after speaking it was my duty to obey. I\nam your slave. I love you, and will follow you to the end of the\nworld. But let us consult the oracle which is on our way.\"\n\nRustem agreed. The answer of the oracle was this: \"If you turn to the\neast you will turn to the west.\" Rustem could not understand this.\nTopaz maintained that it boded no good; Ebony, always accommodating,\npersuaded him that it was very favourable.\n\nThere was yet another oracle in Cabul, which they consulted also. The\nCabul oracle replied as follows: \"If you possess you will not possess;\nif you get the best of it, you will get the worst; if you are Rustem\nyou will not be Rustem.\" This saying seemed still more incomprehensible\nthan the other.\n\n\"Beware,\" said Topaz.\n\n\"Fear nothing,\" said Ebony. And he, as may be supposed, seemed to his\nmaster to be always in the right, since he encouraged his passion and\nhis hopes.\n\nOn leaving Cabul they marched through a great forest. Here they sat\ndown on the grass to eat, while the horses were turned loose to feed.\nThey were about to unload the elephant, which carried the dinner and\nthe service, when it was discovered that Topaz and Ebony were no\nlonger with the party. They called them loudly: the forest echoed with\nthe names of Topaz and Ebony; the men sought them in every direction\nand filled the woods with their shouts, but they came back having seen\nno one and heard no answer. \"We saw nothing,\" they said to Rustem,\n\"but a vulture fighting with an eagle and plucking out all its\nfeathers.\"\n\nThe history of this struggle excited Rustem's curiosity; he went to\nthe spot on foot. He saw no vulture or eagle, but he found that his\nelephant, still loaded with baggage, had been attacked by a huge\nrhinoceros. One was fighting with his horn, the other with his trunk.\nOn seeing Rustem the rhinoceros retreated, and the elephant was led\nback. But now the horses were gone. \"Strange things happen to\ntravellers in the forest!\" exclaimed Rustem. The servants were\ndismayed, and their master was in despair at having lost his horses,\nhis favourite negro, and the sage Topaz, for whom he had always had a\nregard, though he did not always agree with his opinion.\n\nHe was comforting himself with the hope of soon finding himself at the\nfeet of the beautiful Princess of Cashmere, when he met a fine striped\nass, which a vigorous peasant was beating violently with a stick.\nThere is nothing rarer, swifter, or more beautiful than an ass of this\nkind. This one retorted on the rustic for his thrashing by kicks which\nmight have uprooted an oak. The young Mirza very naturally took the\nass's part, for it was a beautiful beast. The peasant ran off, crying\nout to the ass: \"I will pay you out yet!\" The ass thanked its\nliberator after its fashion, went up to him, fawned on him, and\nreceived his caresses.\n\nHaving dined, Rustem mounted him, and took the road to Cashmere with\nhis servants, some on foot and some riding the elephant.\n\nHardly had he mounted his ass, when the animal turned toward Cabul,\ninstead of proceeding on the way to Cashmere. In vain his rider tugged\nat the bridle, jerked at the bit, squeezed his ribs with his knees,\ndrove the spurs into his flanks, gave him his head, pulled him up,\nwhipped him right and left. The obstinate beast still made direct to\nCabul.\n\nRustem was growing desperate, when he met a camel-driver, who said to\nhim:\n\n\"You have a very stubborn ass there, master, which insists on carrying\nyou where you do not want to go. If you will let me have him, I will\ngive you four of my camels, which you may choose for yourself.\"\n\nRustem thanked Providence for having sent so good a bargain in his\nway. \"Topaz was all wrong,\" thought he, \"to say that my journey would\nbe unlucky.\" He mounted the finest of the camels, and the others\nfollowed. He soon rejoined his little caravan, and went on his way\ntoward happiness.\n\nHe had not marched more than four miles, when he was stopped by a\ntorrent, wide, deep and impetuous, tumbling over rocks all white with\nfoam. On each shore rose precipitous cliffs, which bewildered the eyes\nand chilled the heart of man. There was no way of getting across, of\nturning to the right hand or to the left.\n\n\"I am beginning to fear,\" said Rustem, \"that Topaz may have been right\nto reprehend me for this journey, and I very wrong to undertake it. If\nhe were but here he might give me some good advice, and if I had\nEbony, he at any rate would comfort me, and suggest some expedient. As\nit is I have no one left to help me.\"\n\nHis dismay was increased by that of his followers. The night was very\ndark, and they spent it in lamentations. At last fatigue and\ndejection brought sleep to the love-sick traveller. He awoke, however,\nat daybreak, and saw a fine marble bridge built across the torrent\nfrom shore to shore.\n\nThen what exclamations, what cries of astonishment and delight! \"Is it\npossible? Is it a dream? What a marvel! It is magic! Dare we cross\nit?\" All the Mirza's train fell on their knees, got up again, went to\nthe bridge, kissed the ground, looked up to heaven, lifted their\nhands; then tremulously set foot on it, went over, and came back in\nperfect ecstasy, and Rustem said, \"Heaven is on my side this time.\nTopaz did not know what he was saying. The oracles were in my favour.\nEbony was right; but why is he not here?\"\n\nHardly had the caravan crossed in safety, when the bridge fell into\nthe torrent with an appalling crash.\n\n\"So much the better!\" cried Rustem. \"God be praised! He does not\nintend me to return to my own country, where I should be only a\nprivate gentleman. He means me to marry the Princess. I shall be\nPrince of Cashmere. In that way, when I possess my Princess, I shall\nnot possess my humble rank in Candahar; I shall be Rustem, and I shall\nnot, since I shall be a great prince. There is a great deal of the\noracle interpreted in my favour. The rest will be explained in the\nsame way. I am too happy! But why is not Ebony at my side? I regret\nhim a thousand times more than Topaz!\"\n\nHe rode a few miles farther in great glee; but as evening fell, a\nchain of mountains, steeper than a rampart, and higher than the Tower\nof Babel would have been when finished, entirely closed the road\nagainst the travellers, who were filled with fears.\n\nEvery one exclaimed: \"It is the will of God that we should perish\nhere. He has broken down the bridge that we may have no hope of\nreturning; He has raised up this mountain to hinder our going forward.\nOh, Rustem! Oh, hapless Mirza! We shall never see Cashmere, we shall\nnever return to the land of Candahar!\"\n\nIn Rustem's soul the keenest anguish and most complete dejection\nsucceeded the immoderate joy and hopes which had intoxicated him. He\nwas now very far from interpreting the oracles to his advantage: \"O\nmerciful heaven!\" he cried. \"Have I really lost my friend Topaz?\"\n\nAs he spoke the words, heaving deep sighs and shedding bitter tears in\nthe sight of his despairing followers, behold, the base of the\nmountain opened, and a long, vaulted gallery lighted by a hundred\nthousand torches was revealed to his dazzled eyes!\n\nRustem broke into exclamations of joy; his people fell on their knees\nor dropped down with amazement, crying out that it was a miracle, and\nthat Rustem was destined to govern the world. Rustem himself believed\nit, and was uplifted beyond measure. \"Ah! Ebony, my dear Ebony, where\nare you?\" he cried. \"Why are you not here to see all these wonders?\nHow did I come to lose you? Fair Princess of Cashmere, when shall I\nagain behold your charms?\"\n\nHe marched forward with his servants, his elephant and his camels,\ninto the tunnel under the mountain, and, at the end of it came out\nupon a meadow enameled with flowers and watered by brooks. Beyond this\nmeadow avenues of trees stretched into the far distance; at the end of\nthem was a river bordered by delightful houses in the loveliest\ngardens. On every side he heard concerts of voices and instruments,\nand saw dancing. He hurried across one of the bridges over the river,\nand asked the first man he met what was this beautiful country.\n\nThe man to whom he spoke replied: \"You are in the province of\nCashmere; the inhabitants, as you see, are holding great rejoicings.\nWe are doing honour to the wedding of our beautiful Princess, who is\nabout to marry a certain lord named Barbabou, to whom her father has\nplighted her. May heaven prolong their happiness!\"\n\nOn hearing these words Rustem fell down in a swoon. The gentleman of\nCashmere, supposing that he was liable to fits, had him carried to his\nown house, where he lay some time unconscious. The two cleverest\nphysicians of the district were called in; they felt their patient's\npulse: and he, having somewhat recovered, sobbed and sighed, and\nrolled his eyes, exclaiming, \"Topaz, Topaz, you were right after all!\"\n\nOne of the physicians said to the gentleman of Cashmere, \"I perceive\nby his accent that this young man comes from Candahar; the air of this\ncountry does not agree with him, and he must be sent home again. I can\nsee by his eyes that he is mad; leave him in my hands; I will take him\nback to his own country and cure him.\" The other physician declared\nthat his only complaint was melancholy, and that he ought to be taken\nto the Princess's wedding and compelled to dance.\n\nWhile they were discussing his case the sick man recovered his powers;\nthe two physicians were sent away, and Rustem remained alone with his\nhost.\n\n\"Sir,\" said he, \"I ask your pardon for fainting in your presence; I\nknow that it is not good manners, and I entreat you to accept my\nelephant in acknowledgment of all the kindness with which you have\nreceived me.\"\n\nHe then related his adventures, taking good care not to mention the\nobject of his journey. \"But, in the name of Brahma,\" said he, \"tell me\nwho is this happy Barbabou who is to be married to the Princess of\nCashmere, and why her father has chosen him for his son-in-law, and\nwhy the Princess has accepted him for her husband.\"\n\n\"My lord,\" replied the gentleman of Cashmere, \"the Princess is far\nfrom having accepted him. On the contrary, she is drowned in tears,\nwhile the province rejoices over her marriage. She is shut up in the\nPalace Tower, and refuses to see any of the festivities prepared in\nher honour.\"\n\nRustem, on hearing this, felt new life in his soul, and the colour\nwhich sorrow had faded came again into his cheeks.\n\n\"Then pray tell me,\" he continued, \"why the Prince of Cashmere\npersists in marrying her to Barbabou against her will.\"\n\n\"The facts are these,\" replied his friend. \"Do you know that our\naugust Prince lost some time ago a diamond and a javelin, on which his\nheart was greatly set?\"\n\n\"I know it well,\" said Rustem.\n\n\"Then I must tell you,\" said his host, \"that the Prince in despair at\nhearing nothing of his two treasures, after searching for them all the\nworld over, promised his daughter in marriage to any one who would\nbring him either of them. Then Barbabou arrived and brought the\ndiamond with him; and he is to marry the Princess to-morrow.\"\n\nRustem turned pale. He muttered his thanks, took leave of his host,\nand went off on his dromedary to the capital where the ceremony was to\ntake place. He reached the palace of the sovereign, announced that he\nhad matters of importance to communicate to him, and craved an\naudience. He was told that the Prince was engaged in preparing for the\nwedding. \"That is the very reason,\" said he, \"why I wish to speak to\nhim.\" In short, he was so urgent that he was admitted.\n\n\"My lord,\" said he, \"may heaven crown your days with glory and\nmagnificence! Your son-in-law is a rascal.\"\n\n\"A rascal! How dare you say so? Is that the way to speak to a Prince\nof Cashmere of the son-in-law he has chosen?\"\n\n\"Yes, a rascal,\" said Rustem. \"And to prove it to your Highness, here\nis your diamond, which I have brought back to you.\"\n\nThe Prince, in much amazement, compared the two diamonds and, as he\nknew nothing about gems, he could not tell which was the true one.\n\n\"Here are two diamonds,\" said he, \"but I have only one daughter. I am\nin a strange dilemma!\"\n\nThen he sent for Barbabou, and asked him whether he had not deceived\nhim. Barbabou swore that he had bought the diamond of an Armenian.\nRustem did not say from whom he had got his, but he proposed, as a\nsolution, that his Highness should allow him and his rival to fight in\nsingle combat on the spot.\n\n\"It is not enough that your son-in-law should possess a diamond,\" said\nhe, \"he ought also to show proof of valour. Do you not think it fair\nthat the one who kills the other should marry the Princess?\"\n\n\"Very good,\" said the Prince; \"it will be a fine show for all the\ncourt. You two shall fight it out at once. The conqueror shall have\nthe armour of the conquered man, after the custom of Cashmere: and he\nshall marry the Princess.\"\n\nThe rivals immediately descended to the palace court. On the stairs\nthey saw a magpie and a raven. The raven cried; \"Fight it out, fight\nit out!\" the magpie, \"Do not fight!\" This made the Prince laugh. The\nrivals scarcely noticed the two birds.\n\nThe combat began. All the courtiers stood round them in a circle. The\nPrincess still shut herself up in her tower, and would see nothing of\nit. She had no suspicion that her lover could be in Cashmere, and she\nhad such a horror of Barbabou that she would not look on. The fight\nwent off as well as possible. Barbabou was left stone dead, and the\npopulace were delighted, for he was ugly and Rustem very handsome--a\nfact which always turns the scale of public favour.\n\nThe conqueror put on the dead man's coat of mail, his scarf and his\nhelmet, and approached the window of his mistress to the sound of\ntrumpets, followed by all the Court. Every one was shouting: \"Fair\nPrincess, come and see your handsome bridegroom who has killed his\nhideous rival!\" and the ladies repeated the words. The Princess\nunfortunately looked out of the window, and seeing the armour of the\nman she abhorred, she flew in despair to the Chinese trunk, and took\nout the fatal javelin, which darted, at her wish, to pierce her dear\nRustem through a joint in his cuirass. He gave a bitter cry, and in\nthat cry the Princess thought that she recognized the voice of her\nhapless lover.\n\nShe flew into the courtyard, her hair all disheveled, death in her\neyes and in her heart. Rustem was lying in her father's arms. She saw\nhim! What a moment, what a sight! Who can express the anguish, the\ntenderness, the horror of that meeting? She threw herself upon him and\nembraced him.\n\n\"These,\" she cried, \"are the first and last kisses of your lover and\ndestroyer.\" Then snatching the dart from his wound, she plunged it\ninto her own heart, and died on the breast of the lover she adored.\n\nHer father, horror-stricken and heartbroken, strove in vain to bring\nher back to life; she was no more. He broke the fatal weapon into\nfragments, and flung away the ill-starred diamonds: and while\npreparations were proceeding for his daughter's funeral instead of her\nwedding, he had the bleeding but still living Rustem carried into his\npalace.\n\nRustem was laid upon a couch. The first thing he saw, one on each side\nof his death-bed, were Topaz and Ebony. Surprise gave him strength.\n\"Cruel that you were,\" said he; \"why did you desert me? The Princess\nmight still perhaps be living if you had been at hand!\"\n\n\"I have never left you for a moment,\" said Topaz.\n\n\"I have been always at your side,\" said Ebony.\n\n\"What do you mean? Why do you insult me in my last moments?\" replied\nRustem, in a weak voice.\n\n\"Believe me, it is true,\" said Topaz. \"You know I never approved of\nthis ill-advised journey, for I foresaw its disastrous end. I was the\neagle which struggled with the vulture, and which the vulture plucked;\nI was the elephant which made off with your baggage to compel you to\nreturn home; I was the striped ass which would fain have carried you\nback to your father; it was I who led your horses astray, who produced\nthe torrent which you could not cross, who raised the mountain which\nchecked your unlucky advance; I was the physician who advised your\nreturn to your native air, and the magpie which urged you not to\nfight.\"\n\n\"I,\" said Ebony, \"was the vulture who plucked the eagle, the\nrhinoceros which thrust its horn into the elephant, the peasant who\nbeat the ass, the merchant who gave you the camels to hasten you to\nyour ruin; I raised the bridge you crossed; I bored the mountains for\nyou to pass; I was the physician who advised you to proceed, and the\nraven which encouraged you to fight.\"\n\n\"Alas! And remember the Oracle,\" added Topaz; \"If you turn to the east\nyou will turn to the west.\"\n\n\"Yes, here they bury the dead with their faces turned westward,\" said\nEbony. \"The Oracle was plain; why did not you understand it? You\npossessed and you possessed not; for you had the diamond, but it was a\nfalse one, and you did not know it; you got the best of it in battle,\nbut you also got the worst, for you must die; you are Rustem, but you\nwill soon cease to be so. The Oracle is fulfilled.\"\n\nEven as he spoke two white wings appeared on the shoulders of Topaz,\nand two black wings on those of Ebony.\n\n\"What is this that I see?\" cried Rustem. And Topaz and Ebony replied:\n\"We are your two genies.\" \"I,\" added Topaz, \"am your good genie.\"\n\n\"And you, Ebony, with your black wings, are apparently my evil genie.\"\n\n\"As you say,\" replied Ebony.\n\nThen suddenly everything vanished. Rustem found himself in his\nfather's house, which he had not quitted, and in his bed where he had\nbeen sleeping just an hour.\n\nHe awoke with a start, bathed in sweat and greatly scared. He shouted,\nhe called, he rang. His servant Topaz hurried up in his night-cap,\nyawning.\n\n\"Am I dead or alive?\" cried Rustem. \"Will the beautiful Princess of\nCashmere recover?\"\n\n\"Is your Highness dreaming?\" said Topaz calmly.\n\n\"And what,\" cried Rustem, \"has become of that cruel Ebony, with his\ntwo black wings? Is it his fault that I am dying so dreadful a death?\"\n\n\"Sir, I left him upstairs, snoring. Shall I call him down?\"\n\n\"The villain! He has been tormenting me these six months. It was he\nwho took me to that fatal fair at Cabul; it was he who stole the\ndiamond the Princess gave me; he is the sole cause of my journey, of\nthe death of my Princess, and of the javelin-wound of which I am dying\nin the prime of youth.\"\n\n\"Make yourself easy,\" said Topaz. \"You have never been to Cabul. There\nis no Princess of Cashmere; the Prince has but two sons, and they are\nnow at school. You never had any diamond. The Princess cannot be dead\nsince she never was born; and you are perfectly sound and well.\"\n\n\"What! Is it not true that you became in turn an eagle, an elephant,\nan ass, a doctor, and a magpie, to protect me from ill?\"\n\n\"It is all a dream, sir. Our ideas are no more under our control when\nsleeping than when awake. The Almighty sent that string of ideas\nthrough your head, as it would seem, to give you some lesson which you\nmay lay to heart.\"\n\n\"You are making game of me,\" said Rustem. \"How long have I been\nsleeping?\"\n\n\"Sir, you have only slept one hour.\"\n\n\"Well, I cannot understand it,\" said Rustem.\n\nBut perhaps he took the lesson to heart, and learned to doubt whether\nall he wished for was right and good for him.\n\n\n\n\n_Steelpacha_[6]\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was an Emperor who had three sons and three\ndaughters. As he was very old, his last hour drew nigh. He therefore\ncalled his children to his bedside and laid earnest command upon his\nsons to give their sisters, without hesitation, to the first suitors\nwho asked for them in marriage. \"Marry them off,\" he said to the sons,\n\"or my curse will be upon you!\" These were his last words.\n\n[Footnote 6: From \"The Russian Grandmother's Wonder Tales,\" copyright,\n1906, by Charles Scribner's Sons.]\n\nAfter his death, day passed quietly after day for a while. Then one\nevening there came a loud knocking at the door. The whole palace began\nto rock amid a wild roaring, howling, crashing; the castle was bathed\nin a sea of flame. Every heart was terrified, and trembling took\npossession of every soul.\n\nSuddenly a voice cried, \"Open the door, ye princes!\"\n\nUp spoke the Emperor's eldest son, \"Do not open!\" And the second said,\n\"On no account open!\" But the youngest said, \"Then I will open the\ndoor myself.\"\n\nHe sprang up and drew the bolts. Hardly was the door opened when a\nfearful Being rushed in, the outline of whose form was hidden in\nencircling flames.\n\n\"I am come,\" he exclaimed, \"to take your eldest sister for my wife,\nand that at once. So give a short answer--yes or no; I insist upon\nit!\"\n\nSaid the eldest brother, \"I will not give her to you. Why should I,\nwhen I know neither who nor whence you are? You come here by night,\ndemand my sister's hand upon the instant, and I do not even hear which\nway I am to turn when I wish to visit her.\"\n\nSaid the second brother, \"Nor do I permit you to take away my sister\nthus in the dead of night.\"\n\nBut the youngest interposed, \"Then I will give her away if you two\nrefuse. Have you already forgotten our father's command?\" And taking\nhis sister by the hand he gave her to the stranger, saying, \"May she\nlive happily with you and be ever faithful!\"\n\nAs the sister crossed the threshold every one in the building fell to\nthe ground in fear and horror. It lightened, it thundered, it crashed,\nit quaked, the whole fortress swayed heavily, as if heaven and earth\nwere falling together. Gradually the uproar died away, and the rosy\neastern light announced the coming morning.\n\nAs soon as day had broken the brothers searched for the traces which\nthey supposed would have been left by their tremendous nocturnal\nvisitor; but not a trace, not a footprint had he left behind. All was\nswept away.\n\nOn the following night, at the selfsame hour, the selfsame flashing,\ncrashing din was heard around the imperial fortress, and a voice\nwithout cried loudly, \"Open the door, you princes!\"\n\nParalyzed with terror, they threw open the door and a fearful Form\nrushed in, crying in a loud voice, \"Give me here the maiden, your\nsecond sister! I have come to marry her!\"\n\nSaid the eldest brother, \"I will not give you my sister!\"\n\nSaid the second, \"I will not let my sister--\"\n\nBut the youngest broke in with, \"Then I will! Will you never remember\nwhat our father commanded?\"\n\nHe took his sister by the hand and led her to the wooer. \"Take her;\nshe will be happy with you and always good.\"\n\nAt this the powerful apparition vanished, and the maiden with him.\n\nAs soon as morning dawned the brothers sought around the castle for\ntraces of the direction which the apparition had taken; but they found\nnothing under the blessed sun, nor was there the slightest clue from\nwhich they could make any sort of guess any more than if no one had\nbeen there!\n\nOn the third night, at the same hour, the whole castle was again\nshaken to the foundation by a horrible uproar and earthquake, and a\nvoice called out, \"Open the door, ye princes!\"\n\nThe Emperor's sons sprang nimbly to their feet and drew the bolts,\nupon which a monstrous Form entered, exclaiming \"We are come to demand\nthe hand of your youngest sister!\"\n\n\"Never!\" shrieked the eldest and second brothers with one voice. \"We\nwill not let this one go away thus by night. Surely we must at least\nknow of this our youngest sister whom she marries and where she goes,\nthat we may be able to visit her!\"\n\nBut up spoke the youngest brother, \"Then I will give her away if you\nrefuse. Have you quite forgotten what our father charged us on his\ndying bed? It is not so long ago.\"\n\nHe took the sister by the hand and said, \"Here she is; take her home\nand live happily and joyfully with her!\"\n\nIn a twinkling the terrible Being disappeared in the midst of a\nfearful uproar.\n\nWhen the morning dawned the brothers felt oppressed by anxiety, being\nall uncertain as to the fate of their sisters. After a long interval,\nduring which no light had been thrown upon this matter, the three\nbrothers took counsel together:\n\n\"Good heavens, did ever one know of anything so mysterious? What has\nbecome of our sisters? We have not the least idea of their\nabiding-place, nor any clue which can lead to their discovery.\"\n\nAt length one said to the others, \"Let us go forth to seek our\nsisters.\"\n\nSo the three brothers made ready without losing a moment. They took\nmoney enough for a long journey and went out into the wide world to\nseek their sisters.\n\nIn the course of their wanderings they lost their way among the\nmountains, where they wandered for a whole day. When night fell they\ndecided, on account of their horses, to encamp near a piece of water.\n\nAnd so they did. They reached the shore of a lake, pitched their\ntents, and sat down to supper. When they lay down to sleep the eldest\nbrother said, \"You may sleep, but I will stand guard.\"\n\nSo the two younger brothers went peacefully to sleep, while the eldest\nbrother kept watch. At a certain hour of the night the lake became\nagitated with a swaying motion which startled the watcher not a\nlittle. He soon observed a shapeless form arising out of the midst of\nthe water and rushing straight toward him. It was a frightful monster\nof a Dragon, with two great flapping ears, which was rushing so\nfiercely upon him. The Prince bravely drew his sword, and seizing the\nDragon, cut off his head. Then he sliced off the ears and put them\ninto his wallet, and threw the head and the body back into the lake.\n\nMeantime the day had dawned, and the brothers still lay in profound\nslumber, little dreaming of their eldest brother's heroic exploit. He\nnow waked them, but said not a syllable about his nocturnal adventure.\nThey left that place and continued their journey, and when twilight\nbegan to fall they once more agreed to seek a halting-place near some\npiece of water. But they were much terrified to find themselves quite\nlost in a lonely wilderness. At last, however, they came upon a tiny\nlake, where they decided to spend the night. They kindled a fire,\nunpacked cooking utensils and food, and took their evening meal. After\nthat they disposed themselves to sleep. Then said the second brother,\n\"Do you two go to rest; I will mount guard to-night.\"\n\nThe two brothers therefore lay down to sleep, but the third cheerfully\nsat up and kept watch. Suddenly a rustling sound from the lake met his\nears, and he saw a sight which curdled the blood in his veins. A\ntwo-headed Dragon rushed tumultuously upon the brothers as if to\nannihilate them all three.\n\nQuick as thought the watcher sprang up, drew his glittering sword,\navoided the Dragon's attack, and cut off his two heads. Then he sliced\noff the ears and put them into his wallet, throwing the other parts of\nthe monster back into the lake. The brothers knew nothing of the\naffair, for both slept soundly until dawn.\n\nWhen day broke the second brother called to them, \"Wake up, brothers,\nthe morning dawns!\"\n\nImmediately they sprang up, packed their goods, and set forth upon\ntheir way; but they had not the least idea where they were or in what\ncountry.\n\nA great fear overwhelmed them that they might perish of hunger in\nthis wilderness, and they besought God to guide them at least to some\ninhabited village or city, or to permit them to meet some human being,\nfor they had already wandered three days in this inhospitable\nwilderness without coming to the end or finding any way out.\n\nIt was rather early in the day when they came to a pretty large lake\nand decided to go no farther, but to make their camp on this\nlake-side. For they said, \"If we go farther we shall very probably not\nfind any more water near which to make our camp.\"\n\nThey remained, therefore, in this place, built a great fire, supped,\nand made ready to sleep. Then said the youngest brother.\n\n\"Do you two go to rest. I will take the watch to-night.\"\n\nSo the two lay down and soon fell asleep, but the youngest brother\nkept a sharp lookout, and often threw a glance over the shining\nsurface of the lake.\n\nThus passed away a portion of the night, when suddenly the lake boiled\nup, surged, foaming, upon the fire and half-extinguished it. But the\nwatcher whipped out his sword and took his position close to the fire.\nSuddenly a three-headed Dragon rushed forth and made as if to kill the\nbrothers.\n\nNow was the hero-spirit of the youth tested. He waked not his\nbrothers, but went forth alone to meet the Dragon. Three times he\nraised his sword, and each time he smote off one of the monster's\nheads. Then he sliced off the ears, and threw the shapeless remains\ninto the water.\n\nWhile this tremendous conflict was going on the fire died out, having\nbeen flooded by the water. The Prince would not waken his brothers,\nalthough he had no tinder-box of his own to rekindle the flame, but\nresolved to search around a little in the wilderness in hope of\nstumbling upon some one who could help him.\n\nBut nowhere was there a mortal soul! At last he climbed into a high\ntree and looked around in all directions to see what he might see.\n\nAs he was thus gazing far and wide his eyes were suddenly attracted by\na flash of light which seemed to be very near him. He descended the\ntree and went in the direction of the light; hoping to get some fire\nwherewith to rekindle the fire for his brothers.\n\nHe went on for a long stretch, the light seeming always to be just\nbefore him, when suddenly he found himself standing before a cave in a\nrock in which nine Giants, gathered around an immense fire, were\nroasting two men upon a spit, one on one side of the fire, the other\non the other. An enormous copper caldron, full to the brim with human\nflesh, was bubbling over the fire.\n\nThe imperial Prince was horrified at this sight. He would have turned\nback, but whither should he go? Where was there a way of escape for\nhim? He quickly recovered his self-possession, however, and cried out,\n\"Good-morning, valiant comrades, I have long been seeking you!\"\n\nThey received him most cordially, answering, \"God be with thee, if\nthou art a true comrade.\"\n\nHe replied, \"Indeed I am, and shall be all my life long. I would risk\nmy head for you.\"\n\n\"All right,\" they answered. \"If you wish to be one of us, are you\nready to eat human flesh and take a share in our Adventures?\"\n\n\"Yes, that I will,\" said the Prince. \"What you do, that will I do\nalso.\"\n\n\"Faith, then all is well!\" they said. \"Sit down among us.\"\n\nThey settled themselves around the fire. The caldron was taken off,\nits contents served, and the meal began. The Prince received his\nshare, but he knew how to manage, and, instead of eating, he slyly\nthrew the meat, bit by bit, behind him. He did the same with the\nroast. Then the Giants said:\n\n\"Come, now, we must go a-hunting, for we must eat to-morrow as well as\nto-day.\"\n\nSo the nine Giants set out, with the Prince for a tenth.\n\n\"Come,\" they said to him, \"not far from here is a town in which reigns\nan Emperor. His city has fed us for several years.\"\n\nAs they drew near to the city they pulled up two fir-trees by the\nroots and carried them along. When they reached the town they set one\nof the trees against the wall and called to the Prince, \"Come on,\nclimb up the wall here, and we will hand you the second tree. Seize it\nby the point and let it down on the other side, but keep hold of the\ntop so that we may climb down by the trunk.\"\n\nThe Prince accordingly scrambled up, but on receiving the second tree\nhe called out, \"I don't know where to stand it; I am not familiar with\nthe place and dare not shove it over. Do one of you come up and show\nme, and then I will make it all right.\"\n\nOne of the Giants climbed up to him, seized the fir-tree by the point,\nand let it down on the other side of the wall. As he stood thus bent\nover, the Prince drew his sword and struck off his head, and the dead\nGiant tumbled off the wall into the city.\n\nThen the Prince cried to the others, \"All right! Come on now, one at a\ntime, that I may help you along in the same way.\"\n\nOne after another unsuspiciously climbed up, only to meet death at the\nhand of the Prince. When he had made an end of all the nine he let\nhimself down by the fir-tree into the city, which he explored in every\ndirection. No sound of human voice reached his ear. All was a drear,\nhorrible desolation. \"Has the whole population been robbed and\nmurdered by the Giants?\" he thought to himself.\n\nFor a long time he wandered about the desolate city, until he came to\na very high tower, from one window of which shone out the light of a\ntaper. He threw open the door, rushed up the tower stair, and hastened\nstraight to that room.\n\nOn the threshold he stood still in amazement. The room was richly hung\nand decorated with gold, silk, and velvet, and not a soul within\nexcept a maiden who lay upon a couch, out-stretched in deep slumber.\nThe Prince was rooted to the spot at the sight of the maiden, for she\nwas wonderfully beautiful. But at that moment he became aware of a\ngreat serpent which, sliding along the wall, stretched out its head\ndirectly over the head of the maiden, coiling itself up in readiness\nto spring and strike her upon the brow, between the eyes.\n\nThen the Prince sprang quickly with his pocket-knife, which in a\ntrice he had drawn from his pocket, and pinned the serpent's head to\nthe wall. Then saying these words: \"God grant that no hand but mine\nmay draw this knife out from the wall,\" he went quickly away. He\nclimbed up by one fir-tree and down by the other, and so got over the\nwall. Arrived at the Giants' cave, he took some fire and ran back to\nhis brothers, who were still buried in profound slumber. As he kindled\nthe fire day began to dawn in the east. He wakened the brothers, and\nthey set forth upon their journey.\n\nThat same day they came to the highway leading to the before-mentioned\ncity. A mighty Emperor reigned there who used to go about the city\nevery morning shedding bitter tears because his people were\nexterminated and eaten by the Giants, and because of his constant fear\nthat his only daughter would fall a sacrifice to their gluttony. On\nthis morning he was going about the city as usual. It lay empty and\ndeserted; the inhabitants had dwindled away to a mere remnant; most of\nthem had found a grave in the giants' maws.\n\nAs I have said, the Emperor was thus reviewing his city when suddenly\nhis eyes fell upon the uprooted fir-tree which still leaned against\nthe wall, and as he drew nearer he beheld a wonderful sight; there lay\nthe nine Giants, the very pests of the city, with their heads all cut\noff!\n\nThis sight gave the King unspeakable joy. The people also gathered\ntogether to pray God that blessing and happiness might descend upon\nthe giant-slayer. At that very moment a servant came from the imperial\ncitadel to say that a serpent had nearly been the death of the\nEmperor's daughter. Upon this the Emperor betook himself straightway\nto the citadel, and to the very chamber of his daughter. Arrived\nthere, he saw upon the wall the impaled serpent, and tried with his\nown hand to draw out the knife, but in vain.\n\nThen the Emperor sent a proclamation through his whole empire:\n\"Whoever has slain the Giants and impaled the serpent, let him make\nhimself known, that the Emperor may richly reward him and bestow upon\nhim the hand of his daughter.\"\n\nThis proclamation was issued in every province of the empire. The\nEmperor also gave command that great inns should be erected upon the\nprincipal highways, where all travellers should be stopped and asked\nwhether they knew who had overcome the giants; and whoever should\ndiscover the man, let him hasten with utmost speed to the Emperor to\nreceive a rich reward.\n\nAccording to the imperial proclamation, great inns were erected upon\nthe principal highways, and every traveller was stopped, examined, and\nthe whole affair explained to him.\n\nAfter a while the three Princes who were seeking their sisters came to\npass the night at one of these inns. After supper the landlord joined\nthe company, and began to boast of his wonderful exploits. At last he\nturned to the three brothers with the question, \"And what doughty\ndeeds have you done up to this time?\"\n\nThen the eldest brother began, \"As I and my brothers were upon our\ntravels it came to pass one night that we made our halt on the border\nof a lake in a great wilderness. While my brothers were asleep and I\nkeeping watch, a Dragon came up out of the lake to destroy me. I drew\nmy sword out of the scabbard and struck off his head. If you don't\nbelieve me, here are his ears.\" And he drew the ears out of his wallet\nand threw them upon the table.\n\nWhen the second brother heard this, he began, \"I had the watch on the\nsecond night, and I killed a two-headed Dragon. If you don't believe\nme, here are the ears which I cut from his two heads for a witness.\"\nHe said it and showed the two pairs of ears.\n\nThe youngest brother heard the whole in silence. The landlord now\nturned to him.\n\n\"By heaven, youngster, your brothers are valiant heroes! Come let us\nhear if you can also boast of any doughty deeds!\"\n\nHesitatingly the youngest began his story: \"Well, I also did a trifle.\nIt was on the third night, beside the lake in the wilderness. You, my\nbrothers, were asleep. I kept watch. At a certain hour of the night\nthe lake surged up and a three-headed Dragon arose from it, who would\nhave annihilated us. Then I drew a sword and cut off all three of his\nheads. If you don't believe it, here are the three pairs of ears!\"\n\nUpon this the two brothers were dumb with astonishment. But the\nyoungest went on with his story: \"In the meantime the fire had gone\nout, and I went forth to seek a light. While straying around among the\nhills I stumbled upon nine giants in a cave\"; and so he went on and\ntold all his adventures in order, and every one was struck with\namazement at the wonderful tale.\n\nNo sooner had the landlord heard the story than he ran secretly to the\nEmperor and told him the whole affair. The Emperor gave him a great\nsum of money, and sent his people at once to bring the three princes\nbefore him.\n\nWhen they came into the Emperor's presence he put the following\nquestion to the youngest: \"Is it you who performed the wonders in our\ncity, killing the Giants and saving my only daughter from\ndestruction?\"\n\n\"Yes, it was I, mighty Emperor,\" replied the Prince. Here-upon the\nEmperor married his daughter to the young Prince and raised him to the\nhighest office in the kingdom.\n\nThen the Emperor said to the two elder brothers, \"If it please you to\nremain in my empire, I will give you each a wife and will permit you\nto build strongholds for yourselves.\"\n\nBut they told him they were already married, and explained that they\nhad undertaken this journey merely to seek out their sisters. When the\nEmperor heard this he detained only the youngest brother, his\nson-in-law, and to the two other brothers he gave two mules laden with\ngold. So the two brothers returned home to their own kingdom.\n\nStill the youngest brother thought continually of his sisters, and\nkept always in mind the hope of yet seeking them out But on the other\nhand he was pained at the thought of parting from his young wife, and\nbesides he knew that the Emperor would never consent to his leaving\nhim. So he was continually racked with anxiety about his sisters.\n\nOne day the Emperor went hunting, and before setting out he said to\nhis son-in-law, \"Do you remain in the castle during my absence. I give\nto you nine keys which you must keep carefully by you. I give you\nfree leave to open three or four rooms. You will find in them silver\nand gold in abundance; there is also no lack of weapons, or of any\nkind of treasure. You may even, if you feel inclined, open eight of\nthe rooms. But beware of unlocking the ninth. Leave that one alone;\nfor,\" he added, \"if you do not it will be the worse for you.\" Upon\nthis the Emperor departed, leaving his son-in-law at home alone.\n\nHardly was the Emperor gone when the Prince began to open one door\nafter another, until he had examined eight rooms in succession. His\neyes beheld in them treasures of all kinds. When at last he came to\nthe door of the ninth room he said to himself, \"I have seen and done\nso many wonderful things, and shall it be forbidden me to enter a\ncertain room?\"\n\nSo he unlocked the door and went in. What a sight! There was a man\nwhose legs up to his knees and whose arms up to the elbows were\nincased in iron; from his neck hung heavy iron chains, the ends of\nwhich were fastened to stakes driven into the floor on all sides,\nholding him so securely that he could not stir. Before him a stream of\nwater gushed from a golden vessel and flowed into a golden basin which\nstood near; beside it was a golden jug, beautifully adorned with\njewels. The man longed to drink the water, but he could not reach the\njug.\n\nWhen the imperial Prince saw this he started backward; but the\nfettered man cried, \"Oh, come to me, I beseech you, in the name of the\nliving God!\"\n\nThe Prince drew nearer, and the man continued, \"Oh, do a pious act;\nlet me drain a jug of water! Be assured I will reward you for it with\nan additional life.\"\n\nThe Prince considered the proposition. \"Can there be anything better\nfor me than to secure for myself an additional life?\" He took the jug,\nfilled it, and raised it to the man's lips, who emptied it at a single\ndraught. Upon this the Prince asked him, \"In the name of heaven, who\nare you?\"\n\nThe man answered, \"My name is Steelpacha.\"\n\nThe prince now turned toward the door, but the man implored him, \"Give\nme another jug of water, and I will give you a second life.\"\n\nThe Prince thought, \"He will give me a second life; I have one into\nthe bargain. This will be a prodigy indeed!\" and he filled the jug\nagain and put it to the man's lips.\n\nHe then turned away and already held the door-latch in his hand when\nSteelpacha called to him, \"Oh, sir, come back to me! You have twice\nacted nobly by me; prove yourself a man a third time and I will give\nyou a third life. Take this jug, fill it to the brim, and pour it over\nmy head; and for this labour of love I will give you a third life.\"\n\nWhen the Prince heard this he turned back, took the jug, filled it\nwith water, and poured it over the man's head. The moment the water\ntouched him the chains about his neck fell asunder and all the bonds\nwhich held him were unloosed. Quick as lightning Steelpacha sprang up,\nspread a pair of wings, flew out of the window, snatched up the\nPrincess, the wife of his deliverer, took flight with her under his\nwing, and in a moment had disappeared from view. That was a prodigy\nindeed!\n\nThe Prince now looked forward with deepest dread to the Emperor's\nreturn. However, when the Emperor came home, the Prince told the whole\nstory exactly as it had happened. The Emperor was beside himself with\ngrief. \"Why did you do thus?\" said he reproachfully. \"Did I not\nexpressly forbid you to enter the ninth room?\"\n\nThe Prince answered soothingly, \"Don't be angry with me. I will go at\nonce to seek Steelpacha and rescue my wife from him.\"\n\nThe Emperor tried to dissuade him from this plan. \"Don't do that,\"\nsaid he; \"you shall on no account move a step from this place. You\nhave no idea who Steelpacha is. Many an army and much treasure did I\nwaste before I got him in my power. So remain quietly with me. I will\nprovide another wife for you. And don't be unhappy; I love you as my\nown son.\"\n\nBut the Prince was deaf to all these persuasions, and adhered to his\nfirst resolution. He provided himself with the necessary money,\nmounted his horse, and went forth into the world to seek Steelpacha.\nFor a long time he wandered about, and at last he arrived at a city.\nHe was gazing around with some curiosity, when suddenly a woman called\nto him from a balcony, \"You Prince, get down from your horse and come\ninto the court!\"\n\nAs the Prince entered the court the woman came to meet him. He looked\nnarrowly at her and recognized his eldest sister. They flew into each\nother's arms and lavished sweet kisses upon each other.\n\nThe sister was the first to speak. \"Come out upon the balcony with me,\nbrother.\"\n\nWhen they were upon the balcony the Prince asked his sister whom she\nhad married, and she answered, \"I am married to the Emperor of the\nDragons. My husband is himself a Dragon. So, brother, it would be\nworth your while to hide, for my husband often says he would cut his\nbrothers-in-law in small bits if he ever laid eyes upon them. Let me\nfirst question him; if he promises to do you no harm I will tell him\nof your arrival.\"\n\nSo said and so done. The sister concealed her brother and his horse.\nThe evening drew on. The Dragon's supper was ready; they were awaiting\nhis arrival, when at last he came. When he flew in the whole earth was\nbathed in blinding light; but he had hardly entered when he called to\nhis wife:\n\n\"Wife, I smell men's bones. Who is here? Tell me quick!\"\n\n\"No one is here,\" she answered.\n\n\"That is not possible,\" said he.\n\nUpon this the wife said, \"I want to ask you a question, and do you\nanswer me truly and honestly. Would you do any harm to my brothers if\nthey happened to come here?\"\n\nThe Dragon-emperor answered, \"I would have the eldest and the second\nkilled and roasted, but I would do nothing to the youngest.\"\n\nUpon this she said, \"My youngest brother, your brother-in-law, is\narrived.\"\n\nWhen the Dragon-emperor heard this he cried, \"Out with him, then!\" And\nwhen the sister brought her brother from his hiding-place the Emperor\nran to meet him and showered kisses upon him.\n\n\"Welcome here, brother-in-law!\"\n\n\"God be with you, sister's husband!\"\n\n\"Where were you hiding?\"\n\n\"Here I am!\" And he told him the object of his journey, from beginning\nto end.\n\nThe Dragon-emperor said to him, \"You are running the greatest risk,\nGod help you! The day before yesterday Steelpacha flew past with your\nwife. I was awaiting him with seven thousand dragons, but we could not\novercome him. I adjure you, let that fiend alone. I will give you\nmoney to your heart's desire; just go quietly home.\"\n\nBut the Prince would not hear a word of this advice, and emphatically\ndeclared that he would continue his journey on the morrow. When the\nEmperor saw that he could not prevent him, nor induce him to turn\nback, he drew a feather out of his wing and gave it to his\nbrother-in-law, with these words:\n\n\"Give good heed to what I now tell you. Take this feather of mine, and\nif you come across Steelpacha and find yourself in great danger, then\nburn my feather; that very moment I will come to your aid with the\nwhole strength of my army.\"\n\nThe Prince concealed the feather in a safe place and went his way. He\ntravelled on and on until he reached a second great city. Here again,\nas he was going through the city, a woman called to him from a\nbalcony.\n\n\"Ho, there, you Prince, dismount from your horse and come into the\ncourt!\"\n\nThe Prince rode into the court. Behold, who comes to meet him? It is\nhis second sister! They rush into each other's arms and kiss each\nother heartily. Then the sister led her brother into the castle.\n\nWhen she had put the horse into the stable she asked the object of his\njourney, and he told her the whole story of his adventures, finally\nasking her, \"And whom have you married, dear sister?\"\n\nShe answered, \"I am married to the Emperor of the Falcons. He will\ncome home to-night. But I must carefully conceal you, for he is\nfurious against my brothers.\" So saying, she concealed the Prince.\n\nIn a little while the Falcon-emperor came home, and the whole city\nquaked with the tumult of his approach. Supper was served at once, but\nnot before he had cried to his wife, \"I smell men's flesh!\"\n\nThe wife answered, \"What are you thinking of, husband?\"\n\nAt last, after talking for some time of this thing and that, she asked\nhim, \"Would you do any harm to my brothers if they were to come here?\"\n\nThe Emperor said, \"It would surely go hard with the eldest and the\nsecond, but I would do nothing to the youngest.\" Then she told him of\nher youngest brother's arrival.\n\nThe Falcon-emperor commanded his wife to bring her brother before him,\nand as soon as he beheld him he fell upon his neck and kissed him.\n\"Welcome, dear brother-in-law!\"\n\n\"A lucky and joyful meeting, dear sister's husband!\" answered the\nPrince; upon which they sat down to supper.\n\nAfter supper the Emperor asked his brother-in-law concerning the\nobject of his journey, and the Prince replied that he was seeking\nSteelpacha, and told him all his adventures. But the Emperor began to\ncounsel him.\n\n\"Give up your journey,\" said he. \"Just let me tell you something about\nSteelpacha. That very day on which he stole your wife I was awaiting\nhim with five thousand falcons, and waged a fearful battle with him.\nBlood flowed knee-deep around us, yet we could not prevail against\nhim. And how shall you, a single man, overmaster him? So I give you\nthis well-meant advice: Go back home. So much of my treasure as your\nheart desires is yours; take it and go.\"\n\nBut the Prince answered, \"Hearty thanks for your offer, but go back\nwith my task unperformed I will not. No, never! I must yet find\nSteelpacha.\" For he thought to himself, \"Why should I not? Have I not\nthree lives?\"\n\nWhen the Falcon-emperor became convinced that he could not move him\nfrom his purpose he drew a feather out of his wing and gave it to him,\nwith these words, \"Here, take this feather of mine, and if you come\ninto great danger strike a fire and burn it I will come at once to\nyour aid with all my forces.\"\n\nSo the Prince took the feather and set forth to seek Steelpacha.\n\nFor a long time he went up and down through the wide world, until at\nlast he reached a third city. He had hardly entered it when a woman\ncalled to him from a balcony, \"Dismount and come into the court!\"\n\nThe Prince turned his horse and rode into the court. Behold, there was\nhis youngest sister! They fell into each other's arms and lavished\nkisses upon each other. She led the horse into the stable, the brother\ninto the castle. Then the Prince asked, \"Sister, whom have you\nmarried?\"\n\nAnd she answered, \"My consort is the Emperor of the Eagles; it is he\nwhom I have married.\"\n\nWhen the Eagle-emperor came home that night his wife met him\naffectionately; but he paid no attention to her greeting, but asked\nher, \"What man has come into my castle? Tell me at once!\"\n\nShe answered, \"There is no one here,\" and they sat down to supper.\nDuring supper she asked him, as if by chance, \"Would you do any harm\nto my brothers if they should suddenly arrive?\"\n\nThe Emperor answered, \"The eldest and the second I should kill without\nhesitation, but not the youngest. On the contrary, I would hasten to\nhis aid at any time, as far as it was in my power.\"\n\nThen she said to the Emperor, \"My youngest brother is come to pay us a\nvisit.\"\n\nThe Emperor commanded that he should be presented at once, went to\nmeet him and greeted him with \"Welcome, dear brother-in-law!\"\n\nThe other answered, \"A lucky and joyful meeting, dear sister's\nhusband!\"\n\nSo they sat down to the table.\n\nAfter supper they talked of one thing and another, and at last the\nPrince told them that he was seeking for Steelpacha. When the\nEagle-emperor heard this he said everything he could think of to\ndissuade him from this idea.\n\n\"Dear brother-in-law,\" said he, \"leave that fiend alone and give up\nyour journey. Stay, rather, here with me; you shall be made happy in\nevery respect.\"\n\nBut the Prince paid no heed to his words, and as soon as morning\ndawned he made ready and set off to seek Steelpacha. But before he\nwent away the Eagle-emperor, who saw that he could not turn him from\nhis purpose, drew forth a feather from his wing and said:\n\n\"Take this feather, brother-in-law, and if ever you are in need or\ndanger, strike a fire and burn it. I will come at once with my eagles\nto help you.\"\n\nThe Prince put the feather in his pocket and set forth.\n\nThus he roved around the world from city to city, going ever farther\nand farther till at last one day he discovered his wife in a cavern.\nShe was not a little surprised to see him, and cried out to him, \"In\nthe name of heaven, husband, how came you here?\"\n\nHe hastily told her his adventures, and added, \"Wife, my wife! Quick,\nlet us flee!\"\n\nBut she hesitated. \"Where shall we go, since Steelpacha can overtake\nus in a moment? He will kill you on the spot, and bring me back here\nagain.\"\n\nBut the Prince, being mindful of the three lives which Steelpacha had\ngiven him, still coaxed his wife to flee, and they set out. Hardly had\nthey started when Steelpacha heard of it, gave rapid chase, and\novertook them.\n\n\"Oho, little Prince!\" he cried out, \"you would steal my wife, would\nyou?\"\n\nHe tore her away from the Prince, and continued, \"This time I give you\nyour life, for I have not forgotten that I promised you three lives;\nbut go now, and never come back again after her, for if you do your\nlife is at stake.\"\n\nWith these words Steelpacha took the woman away, while the Prince\nremained alone, in doubt what to do next. At last he resolved to go\nafter his wife again.\n\nWhen he arrived near the cavern he waited for his opportunity till\nSteelpacha should be gone away; and once more he fled, taking his wife\nwith him.\n\nSteelpacha soon heard of it, pursued after them, overtook them, fitted\nan arrow to his bow, and cried out, \"Would you rather that I kill you\nwith this arrow, or shall I cut you down with my sword?\"\n\nThe Prince began to beg with all his might, and Steelpacha said to\nhim, \"This second time I give you your life, but let me tell you one\nthing: don't you try again to carry away this woman, for I will not\nagain give you your life, but will kill you on the spot as dead as a\nmouse.\"\n\nWith these words he seized the woman and carried her away, while the\nPrince again remained alone, always planning how to rescue his wife.\nFinally he said to himself, \"After all, why should I be afraid? I\nstill have two lives--that one which he gave me and the one I had\nbefore.\"\n\nSo he resolved to go back to his wife the next day when Steelpacha was\nabsent.\n\n\"Come,\" he said to her, \"let us flee!\" She objected that it was\nuseless to flee, since they would be at once overtaken; but he\nconstrained her to go with him.\n\nBut very soon Steelpacha overtook them, and cried out to the Prince,\n\"Wait, just wait! I will never forgive you this!\" The Prince was\nterrified and began to beg for mercy, but Steelpacha silenced him.\n\n\"You remember that I gave you three lives? All right; now I give you\nthe third, and you have nothing more to expect from me. So go home in\npeace, and beware of hazarding the life which God lent you.\"\n\nWhen the Prince saw that he was powerless against the might of\nSteelpacha he turned back homeward with a heavy heart. Suddenly he\nremembered what his brothers-in-law had said to him when they gave him\nthe feathers, and he said to himself, \"Come what come may, I will go\nonce more to rescue my wife, and in case of need I will burn the\nfeathers and call my brothers-in-law to my assistance.\"\n\nSo said and so done.\n\nHe went back to the cavern and saw his wife in Steelpacha's arms. He\nwaited around till the latter had gone away, and then showed himself\nto his wife. She was not a little frightened, and cried out in terror,\n\"In the name of heaven! Is life so hateful that you come back again\nfor me?\"\n\nHe calmed her and told her that his brothers-in-law had promised to\nhelp him in utmost need. \"And therefore,\" said he, \"I am come for you\nonce more; make ready to flee.\"\n\nShe did so, and they hastened away; but Steelpacha soon got news of\ntheir flight, and cried to them from afar, \"Just wait, little Prince;\nyou haven't escaped me yet!\"\n\nBut as soon as the Prince saw Steelpacha he drew the three feathers\nand his tinder-box out of his pocket, struck a light, and kindled the\nfeathers one by one. But while they were kindling Steelpacha overtook\nhim, drew his sword, and cleft the Prince in half.\n\nThat very moment what a prodigy occurred! There came flying the\nDragon-emperor with his dragons, the Falcon-emperor with his falcons,\nand the Eagle-emperor with all his eagles, and waged battle with\nSteelpacha. Blood flowed in streams, but fortune favoured Steelpacha,\nand he made off safely, carrying his prize, the Princess, with him.\n\nThe three emperors now took counsel over their brother-in-law's body,\nand decided to recall him to life. So they summoned three of the\nswiftest dragons and asked which one of them could most speedily bring\nsome water from the river Jordan. The first one said, \"I can do it\nwithin half an hour;\" the second said, \"I can do it in a quarter of an\nhour;\" the third said, \"I will have it here in nine minutes.\" The\nemperors said to this one, \"Then set out, Dragon, as fast as\npossible.\"\n\nThe Dragon put forth all his impetuous strength, and truly within nine\nminutes he brought back the water from the Jordan. The emperors took\nthe water, poured it over the two portions of the Prince's body and\nscarcely had the water touched them when the young man sprang upon his\nfeet, safe and sound, as if nothing had happened to him.\n\nThe emperors then counselled him, \"Now go back home, since you have\nbeen restored to life!\"\n\nBut the Prince answered that he must once more try his luck, and, by\none means or another, free his wife from the clutches of that fiend.\nHis imperial brothers-in-law remonstrated:\n\n\"Do give it up! You will surely perish this time, for you have no life\nat command except the one God lent you!\"\n\nBut for all answer the Prince remained dumb.\n\nThen the emperors said, \"All right; if you are bent upon trying again,\ncome what come may, at least don't attempt to get your wife away by\nflight, but beg her to wheedle Steelpacha into telling her wherein his\nstrength lies. Then bring us word, that we may help you to get the\nbest of him.\"\n\nSo the Prince stole secretly to his wife and told her how she should\ncoax Steelpacha to tell her the secret of his strength. Then he betook\nhimself to some place of safety.\n\nWhen Steelpacha came home the Princess beset him with questions. \"In\nheaven's name, do tell me wherein your strength lies!\"\n\nSteelpacha answered, \"My pretty wife, my strength lies in my sword.\"\n\nThen the Princess prayed to the sword as if to God. At sight of this\nSteelpacha burst into a mocking laugh and said to her, \"Oh, you simple\nwoman! my strength lies not in my sword but in my arrow.\"\n\nTherefore she fell upon her knees before the arrow and began to pray\nto it. Then Steelpacha said, \"My wife, some one must have well taught\nyou how to coax from me the secret of my strength. If your husband\nwere alive I should say it was he who had taught you.\"\n\nBut she swore by body and soul that no one had taught her, no one had\nbeen there.\n\nAfter several days her husband came again, and she told him that thus\nfar it had been impossible to learn from Steelpacha wherein his\nstrength lay. But the Prince answered, \"Try again,\" and went away.\n\nWhen Steelpacha came home she asked him anew wherein his strength lay.\nUpon which he answered her, \"Since I see that you have a high respect\nfor my strength, I will confess the truth about it.\"\n\nThen he told her: \"Far from here is a mountain-peak. On this\nmountain-peak lives a Fox. The Fox has a heart in which a bird is\nconcealed; this bird holds my strength. But that Fox is very hard to\ncatch, for he has many transformations.\"\n\nThe next day, when Steelpacha was away from home, the Prince came\nagain to his wife to learn what he had told her. She repeated\neverything carefully, and the Prince went straight away to his\nbrothers-in-law with the much-longed-for news. They received it with\njoy, and at once set out with the Prince to go to that mountain-peak.\n\nArrived there, they set the eagles upon the Fox, which immediately\ntook refuge in a lake and there changed himself into a gull with six\nwings. But the falcons gave battle to the gull and drove him thence.\nHe flew high amid the clouds, the falcons ever following. In a trice\nthe gull changed himself into a fox again and tried to escape into the\nearth; but, falling into the power of the eagles and all the rest of\nthe mighty host, he was surrounded and taken prisoner.\n\nThen the emperors commanded that the Fox should be cut open and his\nheart taken out. A fire was kindled, the heart cut open, and the bird\ntaken out and cast into the flames. As soon as the bird was burned\nSteelpacha vanished forever.\n\nSo the Prince took his wife and went happily home.\n\n\n\n\n_The Buried Moon_\n\n\nLong ago in my grandmother's time, the Carland was all in bogs, great\npools of black water, and creeping trickles of green water, and\nsquishy mools which squirted when you stepped on them.\n\nWell, granny used to say how long before her time the Moon herself was\nonce dead and buried in the marshes, and as she used to tell me, I'll\ntell you all about it.\n\nThe Moon up yonder shone and shone just as she does now, and when she\nshone she lighted up the bogpools, so that one could walk about almost\nas safe as in the day.\n\nBut when she didn't shine, out came the Things that dwelt in the\ndarkness and went about seeking to do evil and harm; Bogles and\nCrawling Horrors, all came out when the Moon didn't shine.\n\nWell, the Moon heard of this, and being kind and good--as she surely\nis, shining for us in the night instead of taking her natural\nrest--she was main troubled. \"I'll see for myself, I will,\" said she,\n\"maybe it's not so bad as folks make out.\"\n\nSure enough, at the month's end down she stepped, wrapped up in a\nblack cloak, and a black hood over her yellow shining hair. Straight\nshe went to the bog edge and looked about her. Water here and water\nthere; waving tussocks and trembling mools, and great black snags all\ntwisted and bent. Before her all was dark--dark but for the glimmer of\nthe stars in the pools, and the light that came from her own white\nfeet, stealing out of her black cloak.\n\nThe Moon drew her cloak faster about her and trembled, but she\nwouldn't go back without seeing all there was to be seen; so on she\nwent, stepping as light as the wind in summer from tuft to tuft\nbetween the muddy, gurgling water holes. Just as she came near a big\nblack pool her foot slipped and she was nigh tumbling in. She grabbed\nwith both hands at a snag near by, to steady herself with, but as she\ntouched it, it twined itself round her wrists, like a pair of\nhandcuffs, and gripped her so that she couldn't move. She pulled and\ntwisted and fought, but it was no good. She was fast, and must stay\nfast.\n\nPresently as she stood trembling in the dark, wondering if help would\ncome, she heard something calling in the distance, calling, calling,\nand then dying away with a sob, till the marshes were full of this\npitiful crying sound; then she heard steps floundering along,\nsquishing in the mud and slipping on the tufts, and through the\ndarkness she saw a white face with great feared eyes.\n\n'T was a man strayed in the bogs. Mazed with fear he struggled on\ntoward the flickering light that looked like help and safety. And when\nthe poor Moon saw that he was coming nigher and nigher to the deep\nhole, farther and farther from the path, she was so mad and so sorry\nthat she struggled and fought and pulled harder than ever. And though\nshe couldn't get loose she twisted and turned, till her black hood\nfell back off her shining yellow hair, and the beautiful light that\ncame from it drove away the darkness.\n\nOh, but the man cried with joy to see the light again. And at once all\nevil things fled back into the dark corners, for they cannot abide the\nlight. So he could see where he was, and where the path was, and how\nhe could get out of the marsh. And he was in such haste to get away\nfrom the Quicks, and Bogles, and Things that dwelt there, that he\nscarce looked at the brave light that came from the beautiful shining\nyellow hair, streaming out over the black cloak and falling to the\nwater at his feet. And the Moon herself was so taken up with saving\nhim, and with rejoicing that he was back on the right path, that she\nclean forgot that she needed help herself, and that she was held fast\nby the Black Snag.\n\nSo off he went, spent and gasping, and stumbling and sobbing with joy,\nflying for his life out of the terrible bogs. Then it came over the\nMoon, she would main like to go with him. So she pulled and fought as\nif she were mad, till she fell on her knees, spent with tugging, at\nthe foot of the snag. And as she lay there, gasping for breath, the\nblack hood fell forward over her head. So out went the blessed light\nand back came the darkness, with all its Evil Things, with a screech\nand a howl. They came crowding round her, mocking and snatching and\nbeating; shrieking with rage and spite, and swearing and snarling, for\nthey knew her for their old enemy, that drove them back into the\ncorners, and kept them from working their wicked wills.\n\n\"Drat thee!\" yelled the witch-bodies, \"thou 'st spoiled our spells\nthis year agone!\"\n\n\"And us thou sent'st to brood in the corners!\" howled the Bogles.\n\nAnd all the Things joined in with a great \"Ho, ho!\" till the very\ntussocks shook and the water gurgled. And they began again.\n\n\"We'll poison her--poison her!\" shrieked the witches.\n\nAnd \"Ho, ho!\" howled the Things again.\n\n\"We'll smother her--smother her!\" whispered the Crawling Horrors, and\ntwined themselves round her knees.\n\nAnd \"Ho, ho!\" mocked the rest of them.\n\nAnd again they all shouted with spite and ill-will. And the poor Moon\ncrouched down, and wished she was dead and done with.\n\nAnd they fought and squabbled what they should do with her, till a pale\ngray light began to come in the sky; and it drew nigh the dawning. And\nwhen they saw that, they were feared lest they shouldn't have time to\nwork their will; and they caught hold of her, with horrid bony fingers,\nand laid her deep in the water at the foot of the snag. And the Bogles\nfetched a strange big stone and rolled it on top of her, to keep her\nfrom rising. And they told two of the Will-o-the-wykes to take turns in\nwatching on the black snag, to see that she lay safe and still, and\ncouldn't get out to spoil their sport.\n\nAnd there lay the poor Moon, dead and buried in the bog; till some one\nwould set her loose; and who'd know where to look for her?\n\nWell, the days passed, and 't was the time for the new moon's coming,\nand the folk put pennies in their pockets and straws in their caps so\nas to be ready for her, and looked about, for the Moon was a good\nfriend to the marsh folk, and they were main glad when the dark time\nwas gone, and the paths were safe again, and the Evil Things were\ndriven back by the blessed Light into the darkness and the waterholes.\n\nBut days and days passed, and the new Moon never came, and the nights\nwere aye dark, and the Evil Things were worse than ever. And still the\ndays went on, and the new Moon never came. Naturally the poor folk\nwere strangely feared and mazed, and a lot of them went to the Wise\nWoman who dwelt in the old mill, and asked if so be she could find out\nwhere the Moon was gone.\n\n\"Well,\" said she, after looking in the brewpot, and in the mirror, and\nin the Book, \"it be main queer, but I can't rightly tell ye what's\nhappened to her. If ye hear aught, come and tell me.\"\n\nSo they went their ways; and as days went by, and never a Moon came,\nnaturally they talked--my word! I reckon they _did_ talk! their\ntongues wagged at home, and at the inn, and in the garth. But so came\none day, as they sat on the great settle in the Inn, a man from the\nfar end of the bog lands was smoking and listening, when all at once\nhe sat up and slapped his knee. \"My faicks!\" said he, \"I'd clean\nforgot, but I reckon I kens where the Moon be!\" and he told them of\nhow he was lost in the bogs, and how, when he was nigh dead with\nfright, the light shone out, and he found the path and got home safe.\n\nSo off they all went to the Wise Woman, and told her about it, and she\nlooked long in the pot and the Book again, and then she nodded her\nhead.\n\n\"It's dark still, childer, dark!\" says she, \"and I can't rightly see,\nbut do as I tell ye, and ye'll find out for yourselves. Go, all of ye,\njust afore the night gathers, put a stone in your mouth, and take a\nhazel-twig in your hands, and say never a word till you're safe home\nagain. Then walk on and fear not, far into the midst of the marsh,\ntill ye find a coffin, a candle, and a cross. Then ye'll not be far\nfrom your Moon; look, and m'appen ye'll find her.\"\n\nSo come the next night in the darklings, out they went all together,\nevery man with a stone in his mouth, and a hazel-twig in his hand, and\nfeeling, thou may'st reckon, main feared and creepy. And they stumbled\nand stottered along the paths into the midst of the bogs; they saw\nnaught, though they heard sighings and flutterings in their ears, and\nfelt cold wet fingers touching them; but all together, looking around\nfor the coffin, the candle, and the cross, while they came nigh to the\npool beside the great snag, where the Moon lay buried. And all at once\nthey stopped, quaking and mazed and skeery, for there was the great\nstone, half in, half out of the water, for all the world like a\nstrange big coffin; and at the head was the black snag, stretching out\nits two arms in a dark gruesome cross, and on it a tiddy light\nflickered, like a dying candle. And they all knelt down in the mud,\nand said, \"Our Lord,\" first forward, because of the cross, and then\nbackward, to keep off the Bogles; but without speaking out, for they\nknew that the Evil Things would catch them, if they didn't do as the\nWise Woman told them.\n\nThen they went nigher, and took hold of the big stone, and shoved it\nup, and afterward they said that for one tiddy minute they saw a\nstrange and beautiful face looking up at them glad-like out of the\nblack water; but the Light came so quick and so white and shining,\nthat they stepped back mazed with it, and the very next minute, when\nthey could see again, there was the full Moon in the sky, bright and\nbeautiful and kind as ever, shining and smiling down at them, and\nmaking the bogs and the paths as clear as day, and stealing into the\nvery corners, as though she'd have driven the darkness and the Bogles\nclean away if she could.\n\n\n\n\n_The Farmer of Liddesdale_\n\n\nThere was in Liddesdale (in Morven) a Farmer who suffered great loss\nwithin the space of one year. In the first place, his wife and\nchildren died, and shortly after their death the Ploughman left him.\nThe hiring-markets were then over, and there was no way of getting\nanother Ploughman in the place of the one that left. When spring came\nhis neighbours began ploughing; but he had not a man to hold the\nplough, and he knew not what he should do. The time was passing, and\nhe was, therefore, losing patience. At last he said to himself, in a\nfit of passion, that he would engage the first man that came his way,\nwhoever he should be.\n\nShortly after that a man came to the house. The Farmer met him at the\ndoor, and asked him whither was he going, or what was he seeking? He\nanswered that he was a Ploughman, and that he wanted an engagement. \"I\nwant a Ploughman, and if we agree about the wages, I will engage thee.\nWhat dost thou ask from this day to the day when the crop will be\ngathered in?\"\n\n\"Only as much of the corn when it shall be dry as I can carry with me\nin one burden-withe.\"\n\n\"Thou shalt get that,\" said the Farmer, and they agreed.\n\nNext morning the Farmer went out with the Ploughman, and showed him\nthe fields which he had to plough. Before they returned, the Ploughman\nwent to the wood, and having cut three stakes, came back with them,\nand placed one of them at the head of each one of the fields. After he\nhad done that he said to the Farmer, \"I will do the work now alone,\nand the ploughing need no longer give thee anxiety.\"\n\nHaving said this, he went home and remained idle all that day. The\nnext day came, but he remained idle as on the day before. After he\nhad spent a good while in that manner, the Farmer said to him that it\nwas time for him to begin to work now, because the spring was passing\naway, and the neighbours had half their work finished.\n\nHe replied, \"Oh, our land is not ready yet.\"\n\n\"How dost thou think that?\"\n\n\"Oh, I know it by the stakes.\"\n\nIf the delay of the Ploughman made the Farmer wonder, this answer made\nhim wonder more. He resolved that he would keep his eye on him, and\nsee what he was doing.\n\nThe Farmer rose early next morning, and saw the Ploughman going to the\nfirst field. When he reached the field, he pulled the stake at its end\nout of the ground, and put it to his nose. He shook his head and put\nthe stake back in the ground, He then left the first field and went to\nthe rest. He tried the stakes, shook his head, and returned home. In\nthe dusk he went out the second time to the fields, tried the stakes,\nshook his head, and after putting them again in the ground, went home.\nNext morning he went out to the fields the third time. When he reached\nthe first stake he pulled it out of the ground and put it to his nose\nas he did on the foregoing days. But no sooner had he done that than\nhe threw the stake from him, and stretched away for the horses with\nall his might.\n\nHe got the horses, the withes, and the plough, and when he reached the\nend of the first field with them, he thrust the plough into the\nground, and cried:\n\n    \"My horses and my leather-traces, and mettlesome lads,\n                The earth is coming up!\"\n\nHe then began ploughing, kept at it all day at a terrible rate and\nbefore the sun went down that night there was not a palm-breadth of\nthe three fields which he had not ploughed, sowed, and harrowed. When\nthe Farmer saw this he was exceedingly well pleased, for he had his\nwork finished as soon as his neighbours.\n\nThe Ploughman was quick and ready to do everything that he was told,\nand so he and the Farmer agreed well until the harvest came. But on a\ncertain day when the reaping was over the Farmer said to him that he\nthought the corn was dry enough for putting in. The Ploughman tried a\nsheaf or two, and answered that it was not dry yet. But shortly after\nthat day he said that it was now ready. \"If it is,\" said the Farmer,\n\"we'd better begin putting it in.\"\n\n\"We will not until I get my share out of it first,\" said the\nPloughman. He then went off to the wood, and in a short time returned,\nhaving in his hand a withe scraped and twisted. He stretched the withe\non the field, and began to put the corn in it. He continued putting\nsheaf after sheaf in the withe until he had taken almost all the\nsheaves that were on the field. The Farmer asked of him what he meant?\n\"Thou didst promise me as wages as much corn as I could carry with me\nin one burden-withe, and here I have it now,\" said the Ploughman, as\nhe was shutting the withe.\n\nThe Farmer saw that he would be ruined by the Ploughman, and therefore\nsaid:\n\n    \"'T was in the Mart I sowed,\n    'T was in the Mart I baked,\n    'T was in the Mart I harrowed.\n    Thou Who hast ordained the three Marts,\n    Let not my share go in one burden-withe.'\"\n\nInstantly the withe broke, and it made a loud report, which echo\nanswered from every rock far and near. Then the corn spread over the\nfield, and the Ploughman went away in a white mist in the skies, and\nwas seen no more.\n\n\n\n\n_The Badger's Money_\n\n\nOnce upon a time, in a hut at a place called Namekata, in Hitache,\nthere lived an old priest, famous neither for learning nor wisdom, but\nbent only on passing his days in prayer and meditation. He had not\neven a child to wait upon him, but prepared his food with his own\nhands. Night and morning he recited the prayer, \"Namu Amida Butsu,\"\nintent upon that alone. Although the fame of his virtue did not reach\nfar, yet his neighbours respected and revered him, and often brought\nhim food and raiment; and when his roof or his walls fell out of\nrepair, they would mend them for him; so for the things of this world\nhe took no thought.\n\nOne very cold night, when he little thought any one was outside, he\nheard a voice calling, \"Your reverence! your reverence!\" So he rose\nand went out to see who it was, and there he beheld an old badger\nstanding. Any ordinary man would have been greatly alarmed at the\napparition; but the priest, being such as he has been described above,\nshowed no sign of fear, but asked the creature his business. Upon this\nthe badger respectfully bent its knees, and said:\n\n\"Hitherto, sir, my lair has been in the mountains, and of snow or\nfrost I have taken no heed; but now I am growing old, and this severe\ncold is more that I can bear. I pray you to let me enter and warm\nmyself at the fire of your cottage, that I may live through this\nbitter night.\"\n\nWhen the priest heard what a helpless state the beast was reduced to,\nhe was filled with pity, and said:\n\n\"That's a very slight matter; make haste and come in and warm\nyourself.\"\n\nThe badger, delighted with so good a reception, went into the hut, and\nsquatting down by the fire began to warm itself; and the priest, with\nrenewed fervour, recited his prayers and struck his bell before the\nimage of Buddha, looking straight before him. After two hours the\nbadger took its leave, with profuse expressions of thanks, and went\nout; and from that time forth it came every night to the hut. As the\nbadger would collect and bring with it dried branches and dead leaves\nfrom the hills for firewood, the priest at last became very friendly\nwith it, and got used to its company; so that if ever, as the night\nwore on, the badger did not arrive, he used to miss it, and wonder why\nit did not come. When the winter was over, and the spring-time came at\nthe end of the second month, the badger gave up its visits, and was no\nmore seen; but, on the return of the winter, the beast resumed its old\nhabit of coming to the hut. When this practice had gone on for ten\nyears, one day the badger said to the priest, \"Through your\nreverence's kindness for all these years, I have been able to pass the\nwinter nights in comfort. Your favours are such that, during all my\nlife, and even after my death, I must remember them. What can I do to\nrequite them? If there is anything that you wish for, pray tell me.\"\n\nThe priest, smiling at this speech, answered, \"Being such as I am, I\nhave no desire and no wishes. Glad as I am to hear your kind\nintentions, there is nothing that I can ask you to do for me. You need\nfeel no anxiety on my account. As long as I live, when the winter\ncomes, you shall be welcome here.\" The badger, on hearing this, could\nnot conceal its admiration at the depth of the old man's benevolence;\nbut having so much to be grateful for, it felt hurt at not being able\nto requite it. As this subject was often renewed between them, the\npriest at last, touched by the goodness of the badger's heart, said,\n\"Since I have shaven my head, renounced the world, and forsaken the\npleasures of this life, I have no desire to gratify, yet I own I\nshould like to possess three riyos in gold. Food and raiment I receive\nby the favour of the villagers, so I take no heed for those things.\nWere I to die to-morrow, and attain my wish of being born again into\nthe next world, the same kind folk have promised to meet and bury my\nbody. Thus, although I have no other reason to wish for money, still\nif I had three riyos I would offer them up at some holy shrine, that\nmasses and prayers might be said for me, whereby I might enter into\nsalvation. Yet I would not get this money by violent or unlawful\nmeans; I only think of what might be if I had it. So you see, since\nyou have expressed such kind feelings toward me, I have told you what\nis on my mind.\" When the priest had done speaking, the badger leaned\nits head on one side with a puzzled and anxious look, so much so that\nthe old man was sorry he had expressed a wish which seemed to give the\nbeast trouble, and tried to retract what he had said. \"Posthumous\nhonours, after all, are the wish of ordinary men, I, who am a priest,\nought not to entertain such thoughts, or to want money; so pray pay no\nattention to what I have said;\" and the badger, feigning assent to\nwhat the priest had impressed upon it, returned to the hills as usual.\n\nFrom that time forth the badger came no more to the hut. The priest\nthought this very strange, but imagined either that the badger stayed\naway because it did not like to come without the money, or that it had\nbeen killed in an attempt to steal it; and he blamed himself for\nhaving added to his sins for no purpose, repenting when it was too\nlate: persuaded, however, that the badger must have been killed, he\npassed his time in putting up prayers upon prayers for it.\n\nAfter three years had gone by, one night the old man heard a voice\nnear his door calling out, \"Your reverence! your reverence!\"\n\nAs the voice was like that of the badger, he jumped up as soon as he\nheard it, and ran out to open the door; and there, sure enough, was\nthe badger. The priest, in great delight, cried out, \"And so you are\nsafe and sound, after all! Why have you been so long without coming\nhere? I have been expecting you anxiously this long while.\"\n\nSo the badger came into the hut, and said, \"If the money which you\nrequired had been for unlawful purposes, I could easily have procured\nas much as ever you might have wanted; but when I heard that it was to\nbe offered to a temple for masses for your soul, I thought that, if I\nwere to steal the hidden treasure of some other man, you could not\napply to a sacred purpose money which had been obtained at the\nexpense of his sorrow. So I went to the island of Sado, and gathering\nthe sand and earth which had been cast away as worthless by the\nminers, fused it afresh in the fire; and at this work I spent months\nand days.\" As the badger finished speaking, the priest looked at the\nmoney which it had produced, and sure enough he saw that it was bright\nand new and clean; so he took the money, and received it respectfully,\nraising it to his head.\n\n\"And so you have had all this toil and labour on account of a foolish\nspeech of mine? I have obtained my heart's desire, and am truly\nthankful.\"\n\nAs he was thanking the badger with great politeness and ceremony, the\nbeast said, \"In doing this I have but fulfilled my own wish; still I\nhope that you will tell this thing to no man.\"\n\n\"Indeed,\" replied the priest, \"I cannot choose but tell this story.\nFor if I keep the money in my poor hut, it will be stolen by thieves:\nI must either give it to some one to keep for me, or else at once\noffer it up at the temple. And when I do this, when people see a poor\nold priest with a sum of money quite unsuited to his station, they\nwill think it very suspicious, and I shall have to tell the tale as it\noccurred; but as I shall say that the badger that gave me the money\nhas ceased coming to my hut, you need not fear being waylaid, but can\ncome, as of old, and shelter yourself from the cold.\" To this the\nbadger nodded assent, and as long as the old priest lived, it came and\nspent the winter nights with him.\n\n\n\n\n_The Grateful Foxes_\n\n\nOne fine spring day, two friends went out to a moor to gather fern,\nattended by a boy with a bottle of wine and a box of provisions. As\nthey were straying about, they saw at the foot of a hill a fox that\nhad brought out its cub to play; and whilst they looked on, struck by\nthe strangeness of the sight, three children came up from a\nneighbouring village with baskets in their hands, on the same errand\nas themselves. As soon as the children saw the foxes, they picked up a\nbamboo stick and took the creatures stealthily in the rear; and when\nthe old foxes took to flight, they surrounded them and beat them with\nthe stick, so that they ran away as fast as their legs could carry\nthem; but two of the boys held down the cub, and, seizing it by the\nscruff of the neck, went off in high glee.\n\nThe two friends were looking on all the while, and one of them,\nraising his voice, shouted out, \"Hallo! you boys! what are you doing\nwith that fox?\"\n\nThe eldest of the boys replied, \"We're going to take him home and sell\nhim to a young man in our village. He'll buy him, and then he'll boil\nhim in a pot and eat him.\"\n\n\"Well,\" replied the other, after considering the matter attentively,\n\"I suppose it's all the same to you whom you sell him to. You'd better\nlet me have him.\"\n\n\"Oh, but the young man from our village promised us a good round sum\nif we could find a fox, and got us to come out to the hills and catch\none; and so we can't sell him to you at any price.\"\n\n\"Well, I suppose it cannot be helped, then; but how much would the\nyoung man give you for the cub?\"\n\n\"Oh, he'll give us three hundred cash at least.\"\n\n\"Then I'll give you half a bu; and so you'll gain five hundred cash by\nthe transaction.\"\n\n\"Oh, we'll sell him for that, sir. How shall we hand him over to you?\"\n\n\"Just tie him up here,\" said the other; and so he made fast the cub\nround the neck with the string of the napkin in which the luncheon box\nwas wrapped, and gave half a bu to the three boys, who ran away\ndelighted.\n\nThe man's friend, upon this, said to him, \"Well, certainly you have\ngot queer tastes. What on earth are you going to keep that fox for?\"\n\n\"How very unkind of you to speak of my tastes like that. If we had not\ninterfered just now, the fox's cub would have lost its life. If we had\nnot seen the affair, there would have been no help for it. How could I\nstand by and see life taken? It was but a little I spent--only half a\nbu--to save the cub, but had it cost a fortune I should not have\ngrudged it. I thought you were intimate enough with me to know my\nheart; but to-day you have accused me of being eccentric, and I see\nhow mistaken I have been in you. However, our friendship shall cease\nfrom this day forth.\"\n\nAnd when he had said this with a great deal of firmness, the other,\nretiring backward and bowing with his hands on his knees, replied:\n\n\"Indeed, indeed, I am filled with admiration at the goodness of your\nheart. When I hear you speak thus, I feel more than ever how great is\nthe love I owe you. I thought that you might wish to use the cub as a\nsort of decoy to lead the old ones to you, that you might pray them to\nbring prosperity and virtue to your house. When I called you eccentric\njust now, I was but trying your heart, because I had some suspicions\nof you; and now I am truly ashamed of myself.\"\n\nAnd as he spoke, still bowing, the other replied, \"Really! was that\nindeed your thought? Then I pray you to forgive me for my violent\nlanguage.\"\n\nWhen the two friends had thus become reconciled, they examined the\ncub, and saw that it had a slight wound in its foot, and could not\nwalk; and while they were thinking what they should do, they spied out\nthe herb called \"Doctor's Nakase,\" which was just sprouting; so they\nrolled up a little of it in their fingers and applied it to the part.\nThen they pulled out some boiled rice from their luncheon box and\noffered it to the cub, but it showed no sign of wanting to eat; so\nthey stroked it gently on the back, and petted it; and as the pain of\nthe wound seemed to have subsided, they were admiring the properties\nof the herb, when, opposite to them, they saw the old foxes sitting\nwatching them by the side of some stacks of rice straw.\n\n\"Look there! the old foxes have come back, out of fear for their cub's\nsafety. Come, we will set it free!\" And with these words they untied\nthe string round the cub's neck, and turned its head toward the spot\nwhere the old foxes sat; and as the wounded foot was no longer\npainful, with one bound it dashed to its parents' side and licked them\nall over for joy, while they seemed to bow their thanks, looking\ntoward the two friends. So, with peace in their hearts, the latter\nwent off to another place, and, choosing a pretty spot, produced the\nwine bottle and ate their noon-day meal; and after a pleasant day,\nthey returned to their homes, and became firmer friends than ever.\n\nNow the man who had rescued the fox's cub was a tradesman in good\ncircumstances: he had three or four agents and two maid-servants,\nbesides men-servants; and altogether he lived in a liberal manner. He\nwas married, and this union had brought him one son, who had reached\nhis tenth year, but had been attacked by a strange disease which\ndefied all the physicians' skill and drugs. At last a famous physician\nprescribed the liver taken from a live fox, which, as he said, would\ncertainly effect a cure. If that were not forthcoming, the most\nexpensive medicine in the world would not restore the boy to health.\nWhen the parents heard this, they were at their wits' end. However,\nthey told the state of the case to a man who lived on the mountains.\n\"Even though our child should die for it,\" they said, \"we will not\nourselves deprive other creatures of their lives; but you, who live\namong the hills, are sure to hear when your neighbours go out\nfox-hunting. We don't care what price we might have to pay for a fox's\nliver; pray, buy one for us at any expense.\" So they pressed him to\nexert himself on their behalf; and he, having promised faithfully to\nexecute the commission went his way.\n\nIn the night of the following day there came a messenger, who\nannounced himself as coming from the person who had undertaken to\nprocure the fox's liver; so the master of the house went out to see\nhim.\n\n\"I have come from Mr. So-and-so. Last night the fox's liver that you\nrequired fell into his hands; so he sent me to bring it to you.\" With\nthese words the messenger produced a small jar, adding, \"In a few days\nhe will let you know the price.\"\n\nWhen he had delivered his message, the master of the house was greatly\npleased and said, \"Indeed, I am deeply grateful for this kindness,\nwhich will save my son's life.\"\n\nThen the good wife came out, and received the jar with every mark of\npoliteness.\n\n\"We must make a present to the messenger.\"\n\n\"Indeed, sir, I've already been paid for my trouble.\"\n\n\"Well, at any rate, you must stop the night here.\"\n\n\"Thank you, sir: I've a relation in the next village whom I have not\nseen for a long while, and I will pass the night with him;\" and so he\ntook his leave, and went away.\n\nThe parents lost no time in sending to let the physician know that\nthey had procured the fox's liver. The next day the doctor came and\ncompounded a medicine for the patient, which at once produced a good\neffect, and there was no little joy in the household. As luck would\nhave it, three days after this the man whom they had commissioned to\nbuy the fox's liver came to the house; so the good wife hurried out to\nmeet him and welcome him.\n\n\"How quickly you fulfilled our wishes, and how kind of you to send at\nonce! The doctor prepared the medicine, and now our boy can get up and\nwalk about the room; and it's all owing to your goodness.\"\n\n\"Wait a bit!\" cried the guest, who did not know what to make of the\njoy of the two parents. \"The commission with which you entrusted me\nabout the fox's liver turned out to be a matter of impossibility, so\nI came to-day to make my excuses; and now I really can't understand\nwhat you are so grateful to me for.\"\n\n\"We are thanking you, sir,\" replied the master of the house, bowing\nwith his hands on the ground, \"for the fox's liver which we asked you\nto procure for us.\"\n\n\"I really am perfectly unaware of having sent you a fox's liver; there\nmust be some mistake here. Pray inquire carefully into the matter.\"\n\n\"Well, this is very strange. Four nights ago, a man of some five or\nsix and thirty years of age came with a verbal message from you, to\nthe effect that you had sent him with a fox's liver, which you had\njust procured, and said that he would come and tell us the price\nanother day. When we asked him to spend the night here, he answered\nthat he would lodge with a relation in the next village, and went\naway.\"\n\nThe visitor was more and more lost in amazement, and, leaning his head\non one side in deep thought, confessed that he could make nothing of\nit. As for the husband and wife, they felt out of countenance at\nhaving thanked a man so warmly for favours of which he denied all\nknowledge; and so the visitor took his leave, and went home.\n\nThat night there appeared at the pillow of the master of the house a\nwoman of about one or two and thirty years of age, who said, \"I am the\nfox that lives at such-and-such a mountain. Last spring, when I was\ntaking out my cub to play, it was carried off by some boys, and only\nsaved by your goodness. The desire to requite this kindness pierced me\nto the quick. At last, when calamity attacked your house, I thought\nthat I might be of use to you. Your son's illness could not be cured\nwithout a liver taken from a live fox, so to repay your kindness I\nkilled my cub and took out its liver; then its sire, disguising\nhimself as a messenger, brought it to your house.\"\n\nAnd as she spoke, the fox shed tears; and the master of the house,\nwishing to thank her, moved in bed, upon which his wife awoke and\nasked him what was the matter; but he, too, to her great astonishment,\nwas biting the pillow and weeping bitterly.\n\n\"Why are you weeping thus?\" asked she.\n\nAt last he sat up in bed, and said, \"Last spring, when I was out on a\npleasure excursion, I was the means of saving the life of a fox's cub,\nas I told you at the time. The other day I told Mr. So-and-so that,\nalthough my son were to die before my eyes, I would not be the means\nof killing a fox on purpose; but asked him in case he heard of any\nhunter killing a fox, to buy it for me. How the foxes came to hear of\nthis I don't know; but the foxes to whom I had shown kindness killed\ntheir own cub and took out the liver; and the old dog-fox, disguising\nhimself as a messenger from the person to whom we had confided the\ncommission, came here with it. His mate has just been at my\npillow-side and told me all about it; hence it was that, in spite of\nmyself, I was moved to tears.\"\n\nWhen she heard this, the good wife likewise was blinded by her tears,\nand for a while they lay lost in thought; but at last, coming to\nthemselves, they lighted the lamp on the shelf on which the family\nidol stood, and spent the night in reciting prayers and praises, and\nthe next day they published the matter to the household and to their\nrelations and friends. Now, although there are instances of men\nkilling their own children to requite a favour, there is no other\nexample of foxes having done such a thing; so the story became the\ntalk of the whole country.\n\nNow, the boy who had recovered through the efficacy of this medicine\nselected the prettiest spot on the premises to erect a shrine to Inari\nSama, the Fox God, and offered sacrifice to the two old foxes, for\nwhom he purchased the highest rank at court of the Mikado.\n\n\n\n\n_The Black Horse_\n\n\nOnce there was a king, and he had three sons, and when the king died,\nthey did not give a shade of anything to the youngest son, but an old\nwhite limping garron.\n\n\"If I get but this,\" quoth he, \"it seems that I had best go with this\nsame.\"\n\nHe was going with it right before him, sometimes walking, sometimes\nriding. When he had been riding a good while he thought that the\ngarron would need a while of eating, so he came down to earth, and\nwhat should he see coming out of the heart of the western air toward\nhim but a rider riding high, well, and right well.\n\n\"All hail, my lad,\" said he.\n\n\"Hail, king's son,\" said the other.\n\n\"What's your news?\" said the king's son.\n\n\"I've got that,\" said the lad who came. \"I am after breaking my heart\nriding this ass of a horse; but will you give me the limping white\ngarron for him?\"\n\n\"No,\" said the prince; \"it would be a bad business for me.\"\n\n\"You need not fear,\" said the man that came, \"there is no saying but\nthat you might make better use of him than I. He has one value, there\nis no single place that you can think of in the four parts of the\nwheel of the world that the black horse will not take you there.\"\n\nSo the king's son got the black horse, and he gave the limping white\ngarron.\n\nWhere should he think of being when he mounted but in the Realm\nUnderwaves. He went, and before sunrise on the morrow he was there.\nWhat should he find when he got there but the son of the King\nUnderwaves holding a court, and the people of the realm gathered to\nsee if there was any one who would undertake to go to seek the\ndaughter of the King of the Greeks to be the prince's wife. No one\ncame forward, when who should come up but the rider of the black\nhorse.\n\n\"You rider of the black horse,\" said the prince, \"I lay you under\ncrosses and under spells to have the daughter of the King of the\nGreeks here before the sun rises to-morrow.\"\n\nThe lad went out and he reached the black horse and leaned his elbow\non his mane, and he heaved a sigh.\n\n\"Sigh of a king's son under spells!\" said the horse; \"but have no\ncare; we shall do the thing that was set before you.\" And so off they\nwent.\n\n\"Now,\" said the horse, \"when we get near the great town of the Greeks,\nyou will notice that the four feet of a horse never went to the town\nbefore. The king's daughter will see me from the top of the castle\nlooking out of a window, and she will not be content without a turn of\na ride upon me. Say that she may have that, but the horse will suffer\nno man but you to ride before a woman on him.\"\n\nThey came near the big town, and he fell to horsemanship; and the\nprincess was looking out of the windows, and noticed the horse. The\nhorsemanship pleased her, and she came out just as the horse had come.\n\n\"Give me a ride on the horse,\" said she.\n\n\"You shall have that,\" said he, \"but the horse will let no man ride\nhim before a woman but me.\"\n\n\"I have a horseman of my own,\" said she.\n\n\"If so, set him in front,\" said he.\n\nBefore the horseman mounted at all, when he tried to get up, the horse\nlifted his legs and kicked him off.\n\n\"Come then, yourself, and mount before me,\" said she; \"I won't leave\nthe matter so.\"\n\nHe mounted the horse and she behind him, and before she glanced from\nher she was nearer sky than earth. He was in Realm Underwaves with her\nbefore sunrise.\n\n\"You are come,\" said Prince Underwaves.\n\n\"I am come,\" said he.\n\n\"There you are, my hero,\" said the prince. \"You are the son of a\nking, but I am a son of success. Anyhow, we shall have no delay or\nneglect now, but a wedding.\"\n\n\"Just gently,\" said the princess; \"your wedding is not so short a way\noff as you suppose. Till I get the silver cup that my grandmother had\nat her wedding, and that my mother had as well, I will not marry, for\nI need to have it at my own wedding.\"\n\n\"You rider of the black horse,\" said the Prince Underwaves, \"I set you\nunder spells and under crosses unless the silver cup is here before\ndawn to-morrow.\"\n\nOut the lad went and reached the horse and leaned his elbow on his\nmane, and he heaved a sigh.\n\n\"Sigh of a king's son under spells!\" said the horse; \"mount and you\nshall get the silver cup. The people of the realm are gathered about\nthe king to-night, for he has missed his daughter, and when you get to\nthe palace go in and leave me without; they will have the cup there\ngoing round the company. Go in and sit in their midst. Say nothing,\nand seem to be as one of the people of the place. But when the cup\ncomes round to you, take it under your oxter, and come out to me with\nit, and we'll go.\"\n\nAway they went and they got to Greece, and he went into the palace and\ndid as the black horse bade. He took the cup and came out and mounted,\nand before sunrise he was in the Realm Underwaves.\n\n\"You are come,\" said Prince Underwaves.\n\n\"I am come,\" said he.\n\n\"We had better get married now,\" said the prince to the Greek\nprincess.\n\n\"Slowly and softly,\" said she. \"I will not marry till I get the silver\nring that my grandmother and my mother wore when they were wedded.\"\n\n\"You rider of the black horse,\" said the Prince Underwaves, \"do that.\nLet's have that ring here to-morrow at sunrise.\"\n\nThe lad went to the black horse and put his elbow on his crest and\ntold him how it was.\n\n\"There never was a matter set before me harder than this matter which\nhas now been set in front of me,\" said the horse, \"but there is no\nhelp for it at any rate. Mount me. There is a snow mountain and an ice\nmountain and a mountain of fire between us and the winning of that\nring. It is right hard for us to pass them.\"\n\nThus they went as they were, and about a mile from the snow mountain\nthey were in a bad case with cold. As they came near it the lad struck\nthe horse, and with the bound he gave the black horse was on the top\nof the snow mountain; at the next bound he was on the top of the ice\nmountain; at the third bound he went through the mountain of fire.\nWhen he had passed the mountains the lad was dragging at the horse's\nneck, as though he were about to lose himself. He went on before him\ndown to a town below.\n\n\"Go down,\" said the black horse, \"to a smithy; make an iron spike for\nevery bone end in me.\"\n\nDown he went as the horse desired, and he got the spikes made, and\nback he came with them.\n\n\"Stick them into me,\" said the horse, \"every spike of them in every\nbone end that I have.\"\n\nThat he did; he stuck the spikes into the horse.\n\n\"There is a loch here,\" said the horse, \"four miles long and four\nmiles wide, and when I go out into it the loch will take fire and\nblaze. If you see the Loch of Fire going out before the sun rises,\nexpect me, and if not, go your way.\"\n\nOut went the black horse into the lake, and the lake became flame.\nLong was he stretched about the lake, beating his palms and roaring.\nDay came, and the loch did not go out.\n\nBut at the hour when the sun was rising out of the water the lake went\nout.\n\nAnd the black horse rose in the middle of the water with one single\nspike in him, and the ring upon its end.\n\nHe came on shore, and down he fell beside the loch.\n\nThen down went the rider. He got the ring, and he dragged the horse\ndown to the side of a hill. He fell to sheltering him with his arms\nabout him, and as the sun was rising he got better and better, till\nabout midday, when he rose on his feet.\n\n\"Mount,\" said the horse, \"and let us be gone.\"\n\nHe mounted on the black horse, and away they went.\n\nHe reached the mountains, and he leaped the horse at the fire mountain\nand was on the top. From the mountain of fire he leaped to the\nmountain of ice, and from the mountain of ice to the mountain of snow.\nHe put the mountains past him, and by morning he was in Realm\nUnderwaves.\n\n\"You are come,\" said the prince.\n\n\"I am,\" said he.\n\n\"That's true,\" said Prince Underwaves. \"A king's son are you, but a\nson of success am I. We shall have no more mistakes and delays, but a\nwedding this time.\"\n\n\"Go easy,\" said the Princess of the Greeks. \"Your wedding is not so\nnear as you think yet. Till you make a castle, I won't marry you. Not\nto your father's castle nor to your mother's will I go to dwell; but\nmake me a castle for which your father's castle will not make washing\nwater.\"\n\n\"You rider of the black horse, make that,\" said Prince Underwaves,\n\"before the morrow's sun rises.\"\n\nThe lad went out to the horse and leaned his elbow on his neck and\nsighed, thinking that this castle never could be made for ever.\n\n\"There never came a turn in my road yet that is easier for me to pass\nthan this,\" said the black horse.\n\nThe lad gave a glance from him and saw all that were there, and ever\nso many wrights and stone masons at work, and the castle was ready\nbefore the sun rose.\n\nHe shouted at the Prince Underwaves, and he saw the castle. He tried\nto pluck out his eye, thinking that it was a false sight.\n\n\"Son of King Underwaves,\" said the rider of the black horse, \"don't\nthink that you have a false sight; this is a true sight.\"\n\n\"That's true,\" said the prince. \"You are a son of success, but I am a\nson of success, too. There will be no more mistakes and delays, but a\nwedding now.\"\n\n\"No,\" said she. \"The time is come. Should we not go to look at the\ncastle? There's time enough to get married before the night comes.\"\n\nThey went to the castle and the castle was without a fault.\n\n\"I see one,\" said the prince. \"One want at least to be made good. A\nwell must be made inside, so that water may not be far to fetch when\nthere is a feast or a wedding in the castle.\"\n\n\"That won't be long undone,\" said the rider of the black horse.\n\nThe well was made, and it was seven fathoms deep and two or three\nfathoms wide, and they looked at the well on the way to the wedding.\n\n\"It is all very good,\" said she, \"but for one little fault yonder.\"\n\n\"Where is it?\" said Prince Underwaves.\n\n\"There,\" said she.\n\nHe bent him down to look. She came out, and she put her two hands at\nhis back, and cast him in.\n\n\"Be thou there,\" said she. \"If I go to be married, thou art not the\nman; but the man who did each exploit that has been done, and, if he\nchooses, him will I have.\"\n\nAway she went with the rider of the little black horse to the wedding.\n\nAnd at the end of three years after that, so it was that he first\nremembered the black horse or where he left him.\n\nHe got up and went out, and he was very sorry for his neglect of the\nblack horse. He found him just where he left him.\n\n\"Good luck to you, gentleman,\" said the horse. \"You seem as if you had\ngot something that you like better than me.\"\n\n\"I have not got that, and I won't; but it came over me to forget you,\"\nsaid he.\n\n\"I don't mind,\" said the horse, \"it will make no difference. Raise\nyour sword and smite off my head.\"\n\n\"Fortune will not allow that I should do that,\" said he.\n\n\"Do it instantly, or I will do it to you,\" said the horse.\n\nSo the lad drew his sword and smote off the horse's head; then he\nlifted his two palms and uttered a doleful cry.\n\nWhat should he hear behind him but \"All hail, my brother-in-law!\"?\n\nHe looked behind him, and there was the finest man he ever set eyes\nupon.\n\n\"What set you weeping for the black horse?\" said he.\n\n\"This,\" said the lad, \"that there never was born of man or beast a\ncreature in this world that I was fonder of.\"\n\n\"Would you take me for him?\" said the stranger.\n\n\"If I could think you the horse I would; but if not, I would rather\nhave the horse,\" said the rider.\n\n\"I am the black horse,\" said the lad, \"and if I were not, how should\nyou have all these things that you went to seek in my father's house.\nSince I went under spells, many a man have I ran at before you met me.\nThey had but one word amongst them: they could not keep me, nor manage\nme, and they never kept me a couple of days. But when I fell in with\nyou, you kept me till the time ran out that was to come from the\nspells. And now you shall go home with me, and we will make a wedding\nin my father's house.\"\n\n\n\n\n_Truth's Triumph_\n\n\nSeveral hundred years ago there was a certain Rajah who had twelve\nwives, but no children, and though he caused many prayers to be said,\nand presents made in temples far and near, never a son nor a daughter\nhad he. Now this Rajah had a Wuzeer who was a very, very wise old man,\nand it came to pass that one day, when he was travelling in a distant\npart of his kingdom, accompanied by this Wuzeer and the rest of his\ncourt, he came upon a large garden, in walking round which he was\nparticularly struck by a little tree which grew there. It was a\nbringal tree, not above two feet in height. It had no leaves, but on\nit grew a hundred and one bringals. The Rajah stopped to count them,\nand then turning to the Wuzeer in great astonishment, said, \"It is to\nme a most unaccountable thing, that this little tree should have no\nleaves, but a hundred and one bringals growing on it. You are a wise\nman--can you guess what this means?\"\n\nThe Wuzeer replied, \"I can interpret this marvel to you, but if I do,\nyou will most likely not believe me; promise therefore that if I tell\nyou, you will not cause me to be killed as having told (as you\nimagine) a lie.\"\n\nThe Rajah promised, and the Wuzeer continued: \"The meaning of this\nlittle bringal tree, with the hundred and one bringals growing on it,\nis this. Whoever marries the daughter of the Malee in charge of this\ngarden will have a hundred and one children--a hundred sons and one\ndaughter.\"\n\nThe Rajah said. \"Where is the maiden to be seen?\"\n\nThe Wuzeer answered, \"When a number of great people like you and all\nyour court come into a little village like this, the poor people, and\nespecially the children, are frightened and run away and hide\nthemselves; therefore, as long as you stay here as Rajah you cannot\nhope to see her. Your only means will be to send away your suite, and\ncause it to be announced that you have left the place. Then, if you\nwalk daily in this garden, you may some morning meet the pretty Guzra\nBai, of whom I speak.\"\n\nUpon this advice the Rajah acted; and one day whilst walking in the\ngarden he saw the Malee's young daughter, a girl of twelve years old,\nbusy gathering flowers. He went forward to accost her, but she, seeing\nthat he was not one of the villagers, but a stranger, was shy, and ran\nhome to her father's house.\n\nThe Rajah followed, for he was very much struck with her grace and\nbeauty; in fact, he fell in love with her as soon as he saw her, and\nthought he had never seen a king's daughter half so charming.\n\nWhen he got to the Malee's house the door was shut; so he called out,\n\"Let me in, good Malee; I am the Rajah, and I wish to marry your\ndaughter.\"\n\nThe Malee only laughed, and answered, \"A pretty tale to tell a simple\nman, indeed! You a Rajah! why the Rajah is miles away. You had better\ngo home, my good fellow, for there's no welcome for you here!\" But the\nRajah continued calling till the Malee opened the door; who then was\nindeed surprised, seeing it was truly no other than the Rajah, and he\nasked what he could do for him.\n\nThe Rajah said, \"I wish to marry your beautiful daughter, Guzra Bai.\"\n\n\"No, no,\" said the Malee, \"this joke won't do. None of your Princes in\ndisguise for me. You may think you are a great Rajah and I only a poor\nMalee, but I tell you that makes no difference at all to me. Though\nyou were king of all the earth, I would not permit you to come here\nand amuse yourself chattering to my girl, only to fill her head with\nnonsense, and to break her heart.\"\n\n\"In truth, good man, you do me wrong,\" answered the Rajah humbly: \"I\nmean what I say; I wish to marry your daughter.\"\n\n\"Do not think,\" retorted the Malee, \"that I'll make a fool of myself\nbecause I'm only a Malee, and believe what you've got to say, because\nyou're a great Rajah. Rajah or no Rajah is all one to me. If you mean\nwhat you say, if you care for my daughter and wish to be married to\nher, come and be married; but I'll have none of your new-fangled forms\nand court ceremonies hard to be understood; let the girl be married by\nher father's hearth and under her father's roof, and let us invite to\nthe wedding our old friends and acquaintances whom we've known all our\nlives, and before we ever thought of you.\"\n\nThe Rajah was not angry, but amused, and rather pleased than otherwise\nat the old man's frankness, and he consented to all that was desired.\n\nThe village beauty, Guzra Bai, was therefore married with as much pomp\nas they could muster, but in village fashion, to the great Rajah, who\ntook her home with him, followed by the tears and blessings of her\nparents and playmates.\n\nThe twelve kings' daughters were by no means pleased at this addition\nto the number of the Ranees; and they agreed amongst themselves that\nit would be highly derogatory to their dignity to permit Guzra Bai to\nassociate with them, and that the Rajah their husband, had offered\nthem an unpardonable insult in marrying a Malee's daughter, which was\nto be revenged upon her the very first opportunity.\n\nHaving made this league, they tormented poor Guzra Bai so much that,\nto save her from their persecutions, the Rajah built her a little\nhouse of her own, where she lived very, very happily for a short time.\n\nAt last one day he had occasion to go and visit a distant part of his\ndominions, but fearing his high-born wives might ill-use Guzra Bai in\nhis absence, at parting he gave her a little golden bell, saying, \"If\nwhile I am away you are in any trouble, or any one should be unkind to\nyou, ring this little bell, and wherever I am I shall instantly hear\nit, and will return to your aid.\"\n\nNo sooner had the Rajah gone, than Guzra Bai thought she would try the\npower of the bell. So she rang it.\n\nThe Rajah instantly appeared. \"What do you want?\" he said.\n\n\"Oh, nothing,\" she replied. \"I was foolish. I could hardly believe\nwhat you told me could be true, and thought I would try.\"\n\n\"Now you will believe, I hope,\" he said, and went away. A second time\nshe rang the bell. Again the Rajah returned.\n\n\"Oh, pardon me, husband,\" she said; \"it was wrong of me not to trust\nyou, but I hardly thought you could return again from so far.\"\n\nAnd again he went away. A third time she rang the golden bell. \"Why do\nyou ring again, Guzra Bai?\" asked the Rajah sternly, as for a third\ntime he returned.\n\n\"I don't know, indeed; indeed I beg your pardon,\" she said; \"but I\nknow not why, I felt so frightened.\"\n\n\"Have any of the Ranees been unkind to you?\" he asked.\n\n\"No, none,\" she answered; \"in fact, I have seen none of them.\"\n\n\"You are a silly child,\" said he, stroking her hair. \"Affairs of the\nstate call me away. You must try and keep a good heart till my\nreturn;\" and for the fourth time he disappeared.\n\nA little while after this, wonderful to relate, Guzra Bai had a\nhundred and one children--a hundred boys and one girl. When the Ranees\nheard this, they said to each other, \"Guzra Bai, the Malee's daughter,\nwill rank higher than us; she will have great power and influence as\nmother to the heir to the Raj; let us kill these children, and tell\nour husband that she is a sorceress; then will he love her no longer,\nand his old affection for us will return.\" So these twelve wicked\nRanees all went over to Guzra Bai's house. When Guzra Bai saw them\ncoming, she feared they meant to do her some harm, so she seized her\nlittle golden bell, and rang, and rang, and rang--but no Rajah came.\nShe had called him back so often that he did not believe she really\nneeded his help. And thus the poor woman was left to the mercy of her\nimplacable enemies.\n\nNow the nurse who had charge of the hundred and one babies was an old\nservant of the twelve Ranees, and moreover a very wicked woman, able\nand willing to do whatever her twelve wicked old mistresses ordered.\nSo when they said to her, \"Can you kill these children?\" she answered,\n\"Nothing is easier; I will throw them out upon the dust-heap behind\nthe palace, where the rats and hawks and vultures will have left none\nof them remaining by to-morrow morning.\"\n\n\"So be it,\" said the Ranees. Then the nurse took the hundred and one\nlittle innocent children--the hundred little boys and the one little\ngirl--and threw them behind the palace on the dust-heap, close to some\nlarge rat-holes; and after that, she and the twelve Ranees placed a\nvery large stone in each of the babies' cradles, and said to Guzra\nBai, \"Oh, you evil witch in disguise, do not hope any longer to impose\nby your arts on the Rajah's credulity. See, your children have all\nturned into stones. See these, your pretty babies!\"--and with that\nthey tumbled the hundred and one stones down in a great heap on the\nfloor. Then Guzra Bai began to cry, for she knew it was not true; but\nwhat could one poor woman do against thirteen? At the Rajah's return\nthe twelve Ranees accused Guzra Bai of being a witch, and the nurse\ntestified that the hundred and one children she had charge of had\nturned into stones, and the Rajah believed them rather than Guzra Bai,\nand he ordered her to be imprisoned for life.\n\nMeanwhile a Bandicote had heard the pitiful cries of the children, and\ntaking pity on them, dragged them all, one by one, into her hole, out\nof the way of kites and vultures. She assembled all the Bandicotes\nfrom far and near, and told them what she had done, begging them to\nassist in finding food for the children. Then every day a hundred and\none Bandicotes would come, each bringing a little bit of food in his\nmouth, and give it to one of the children; and so day by day they grew\nstronger and stronger, until they were able to run about, and then\nthey used to play of a morning at the mouth of the Bandicote's hole,\nrunning in there to sleep every night. But one fine day who should\ncome by but the wicked old nurse! Fortunately all the boys were in the\nhole, and the little girl, who was playing outside, on seeing her ran\nin there too, but not before the nurse had seen her. She immediately\nwent to the twelve Ranees and related this, saying, \"I cannot help\nthinking some of the children may still be living in those rat-holes.\nYou had better send and have them dug out and killed.\"\n\n\"We dare not do that,\" answered they, \"for fear of causing suspicion;\nbut we will order some labourers to dig up that ground and make it\ninto a field, and that will effectually smother any of the children\nwho may still be alive.\"\n\nThis plan was approved and forthwith carried into execution; but the\ngood Bandicote, who happened that day to be out on a foraging\nexpedition in the palace, heard all about it there, and immediately\nrunning home, took all the children from her hole to a large well some\ndistance off, where she hid them in the hollows behind the steps\nleading down to the well, laying one child under each step.\n\nHere they would have been quite safe, had not the Dhobee happened to\ngo down to the well that day to wash some clothes, taking with him his\nlittle girl. While her father was drawing up water, the child amused\nherself running up and down the steps of the well. Now each time her\nweight pressed down a step it gave the child hidden underneath a\nlittle squeeze. All the hundred boys bore this without uttering a\nsound; but when the Dhobee's child trod on the step under which the\nlittle girl was hidden, she cried out, \"How can you be so cruel to me,\ntrampling on me in this way? Have pity on me, for I am a little girl\nas well as you.\"\n\nWhen the child heard these words proceeding from the stone, she ran in\ngreat alarm to her father, saying, \"Father, I don't know what's the\nmatter, but something alive is certainly under those stones. I heard\nit speak; but whether it is a Rakshas or an angel or a human being I\ncannot tell.\" Then the Dhobee went to the twelve Ranees to tell them\nthe wonderful news about the voice in the well; and they said to each\nother, \"Maybe it's some of Guzra Bai's children; let us send and have\nthis inquired into.\" So they sent some people to pull down the well\nand see if some evil spirits were not there.\n\nThen labourers went to pull down the well. Now, close to the well was\na little temple dedicated to Gunputti, containing a small shrine and a\nlittle clay image of the god. When the children felt the well being\npulled down they called out for help and protection to Gunputti, who\ntook pity on them and changed them into trees growing by his temple--a\nhundred little mango trees all round in a circle (which were the\nhundred little boys), and a little rose bush in the middle, covered\nwith red and white roses, which was the little girl.\n\nThe labourers pulled down the well, but they found nothing there but a\npoor old Bandicote, which they killed. Then, by order of the twelve\nwicked Ranees, they sacrilegiously destroyed the little temple. But\nthey found no children there, either. However, the Dhobee's\nmischievous little daughter had gone with her father to witness the\nwork of destruction, and as they were looking on, she said, \"Father,\ndo look at all those funny little trees; I never remember noticing\nthem here before.\" And being very inquisitive, she started off to have\na nearer look at them. There in a circle grew the hundred little mango\ntrees, and in the centre of all the little rose bush, bearing the red\nand white roses.\n\nThe girl rushed by the mango trees, who uttered no words, and running\nup to the rose bush, began gathering some of the flowers. At this the\nrose bush trembled very much, and sighed and said, \"I am a little girl\nas well as you; how can you be so cruel? You are breaking all my\nribs.\"\n\nThen the child ran back to her father and said, \"Come and listen to\nwhat the rose bush says.\" And the father repeated the news to the\ntwelve Ranees, who ordered that a great fire should be made, and the\nhundred and one little trees be burned in it, root and branch, till\nnot a stick remained.\n\nThe fire was made, and the hundred and one little trees were dug up\nand just going to be put into it, when Gunputti, taking pity on them,\ncaused a tremendous storm to come on, which put out the fire and\nflooded the country and swept the hundred and one trees into the\nriver, where they were carried down a long, long way by the torrent,\nuntil at last the children were landed, restored to their own shapes,\non the river bank, in the midst of a wild jungle, very far from any\nhuman habitation.\n\nHere these children lived for ten years, happy in their mutual love\nand affection. Generally every day fifty of the boys would go out to\ncollect roots and berries for their food, leaving fifty at home to\ntake care of their little sister; but sometimes they put her in some\nsafe place, and all would go out together for the day; nor were they\never molested in their excursions by bear, panther, snake, scorpion,\nor other noxious creature. One day all the brothers put their little\nsister safely up in a fine shady tree, and went out together to hunt.\nAfter rambling on for some time they came to the hut of a savage\nRakshas, who in the disguise of an old woman had lived for many years\nin the jungle.\n\nThe Rakshas, angry at this invasion of her domain, no sooner saw them\nthan she changed them all into crows. Night came on, and their little\nsister was anxiously awaiting her brothers' return, when on a sudden\nshe heard a loud whirring sound in the air, and round the tree flocked\na hundred black crows, cawing and offering her berries and roots which\nthey had dug up with their sharp bills. Then the little sister guessed\ntoo truly what must have happened--that some malignant spirit had\nmetamorphosed her brothers into this hideous shape; and at the sad\nsight she began to cry.\n\nTime wore on; every morning the crows flew away to collect food for\nher and for themselves, and every evening they returned to roost in\nthe branches of the high tree where she sat the livelong day, crying\nas if her heart would break.\n\nAt last so many bitter tears had she shed that they made a little\nstream which flowed from the foot of the tree right down through the\njungle.\n\nSome months after this, one fine day, a young Rajah from a\nneighbouring country happened to be hunting in this very jungle; but\nhe had not been very successful. Toward the close of the day he found\nhimself faint and weary, having missed his way and lost his comrades,\nwith no companion save his dogs, who, being thirsty, ran hurriedly\nhither and thither in search of water. After some time, they saw in\nthe distance what looked like a clear stream; the dogs rushed there\nand the tired prince, following them, flung himself down on the grass\nby the water's brink, thinking to sleep there for the night; and, with\nhis hands under his head, stared up into the leafy branches of the\ntree above him. Great was his astonishment to see high up in in the\nair an immense number of crows, and above them all a most lovely young\ngirl, who was feeding them with berries and wild fruits. Quick as\nthought, he climbed the tree, and bringing her carefully and gently\ndown, seated her on the grass beside him, saying, \"Tell me, pretty\nlady, who you are, and how you come to be living in this dreary\nplace.\" So she told him all her adventures, except that she did not\nsay the hundred crows were her hundred brothers. Then the Rajah said,\n\"Do not cry any more, fair Princess; you shall come home with me and\nbe my Ranee, and my father and mother shall be yours.\"\n\nAt this she smiled and dried her eyes, but quickly added, \"You will\nlet me take these crows with me, will you not? for I love them dearly,\nand I cannot go away unless they may come too.\"\n\n\"To be sure,\" he answered. \"You may bring all the animals in the\njungle with you, if you like, if you will only come.\"\n\nSo he took her home to his father's house, and the old Rajah and Ranee\nwondered much at this jungle lady, when they saw her rare beauty, her\nmodest, gentle ways and her queenly grace. Then the young Rajah told\nthem how she was a persecuted Princess, and asked their leave to marry\nher; and because her loving goodness had won all hearts, they gave\ntheir consent as joyfully as if she had been daughter of the greatest\nof Rajahs, and brought with her a splendid dower; and they called her\nDraupadi Bai.\n\nDraupadi had some beautiful trees planted in front of her palace, in\nwhich the crows, her brothers, used to live, and she daily with her\nown hands boiled a quantity of rice, which she would scatter for them\nto eat as they flocked around her. Now some time after this, Draupadi\nBai had a son, who was called Ramchundra. He was a very good boy, and\nhis mother, Draupadi Bai, used to take him to school every morning,\nand go and fetch him home in the evening. But one day, when Ramchundra\nwas about fourteen years old, it happened that Draupadi Bai did not go\nto fetch him home from school as she was wont; and on his return he\nfound her sitting under the trees in front of her palace, stroking the\nglossy black crows that flocked around her, and weeping.\n\nThen Ramchundra threw down his bundle of books and said to his\nmother, putting his elbows on her knees, and looking up in her face,\n\"Mammy, dear, tell me why you are now crying, and what it is that\nmakes you so often sad.\"\n\n\"Oh, nothing, nothing,\" she answered.\n\n\"Yes, dear mother,\" said he, \"do tell me. Can I help you? If I can, I\nwill.\"\n\nDraupadi Bai shook her head. \"Alas, no, my son,\" she said; \"you are\ntoo young to help me; and as for my grief, I have never told it to any\none. I cannot tell it to you now.\" But Ramchundra continued begging\nand praying her to tell him, until at last she did; relating to him\nall her own and his uncles' sad history; and lastly, how they had been\nchanged by a Rakshas into the black crows he saw around him.\n\nThen the boy sprang up and said, \"Which way did your brothers take\nwhen they met the Rakshas?\"\n\n\"How can I tell?\" she asked.\n\n\"Why,\" he answered, \"I thought perhaps you might remember on which\nside they returned that first night to you, after being bewitched.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" she said, \"they came toward the tree from that part of the\njungle which lies in a straight line behind the palace.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" cried Ramchundra, joyfully, \"I also will go there, and\nfind out this wicked old Rakshas, and learn by what means they may be\ndisenchanted.\"\n\n\"No, no, my son,\" she answered, \"I cannot let you go; see, I have lost\nfather and mother, and these my hundred brothers; and now, if you fall\ninto the Rakshas's clutches as well as they, and are lost to me, what\nwill life have worth living for?\"\n\nTo this he replied, \"Do not fear for me, mother; I will be wary and\ndiscreet.\" And going to his father, he said, \"Father, it is time I\nshould see something of the world. I beg you to permit me to travel\nand see other lands.\"\n\nThe Rajah answered, \"You shall go. Tell me what attendants you would\nlike to accompany you.\"\n\n\"Give me,\" said Ramchundra, \"a horse to ride, and a groom to take care\nof it.\" The Rajah consented, and Ramchundra set off riding toward the\njungle; but as soon as he got there, he sent his horse back by the\ngroom with a message to his parents and proceeded alone, on foot.\n\nAfter wandering about for some time he came upon a small hut, in which\nlay an ugly old woman fast asleep. She had long claws instead of\nhands, and her hair hung down all around her in a thick black tangle.\nRamchundra knew, by the whole appearance of the place, that he must\nhave reached the Rakshas's abode of which he was in search; so,\nstealing softly in, he sat down and began shampooing her head. At last\nthe Rakshas woke up. \"You dear little boy,\" she said, \"do not be\nafraid; I am only a poor old woman, and will not hurt you. Stay with\nme, and you shall be my servant.\" This she said not from any feeling\nof kindness or pity for Ramchundra, but merely because she thought he\nmight be helpful to her. So the young Rajah remained in her service,\ndetermining to stay there till he should have learned from her all\nthat he wished to know.\n\nThus one day he said to her, \"Good mother, what is the use of all\nthose little jars of water you have arranged round your house?\"\n\nShe answered, \"That water possesses certain magical attributes; if any\nof it is sprinkled on people enchanted by me, they instantly resume\ntheir former shape.\"\n\n\"And what,\" he continued, \"is the use of your wand?\"\n\n\"That,\" she replied, \"has many supernatural powers; for instance, by\nsimply uttering your wish and waving it in the air, you can conjure up\na mountain, a river or a forest in a moment of time.\"\n\nAnother day Ramchundra said to her, \"Your hair, good mother, is\ndreadfully tangled; pray let me comb it.\"\n\n\"No,\" she said, \"you must not touch my hair; it would be dangerous;\nfor every hair has power to set the jungle on fire.\"\n\n\"How is that?\" he asked.\n\nShe replied, \"The least fragment of my hair thrown in the direction of\nthe jungle would instantly set it in a blaze.\"\n\nHaving learned all this, one day when it was very hot, and the old\nRakshas was drowsy, Ramchundra begged leave to shampoo her head,\nwhich speedily sent her to sleep; then, gently pulling out two or\nthree of her hairs, he got up, and taking in one hand her wand, and in\nthe other two jars of the magic water, he stealthily left the hut; but\nhe had not gone far before she woke up, and instantly divining what he\nhad done, pursued him with great rapidity. Ramchundra, looking back\nand perceiving that she was gaining upon him, waved the enchanted wand\nand created a great river, which suddenly rolled its tumultuous waves\nbetween them; but, quick as thought, the Rakshas swam the river.\n\nThen he turned, and waving the wand again, caused a high mountain to\nrise between them; but the Rakshas climbed the mountain. Nearer she\ncame, and yet nearer; each time he turned to use the wand and put\nobstacles in her way, the delay gave her a few minutes' advantage, so\nthat he lost almost as much as he gained. Then, as a last resource, he\nscattered the hairs he had stolen to the winds, and instantly the\njungle on the hill side, through which the Rakshas was coming, was set\nin a blaze; the fire rose higher and higher, the wicked old Rakshas\nwas consumed by the flames, and Ramchundra pursued his journey in\nsafety until he reached his father's palace. Draupadi Bai was\noverjoyed to see her son again, and he led her out into the garden,\nand scattered the magic water on the hundred black crows, which\ninstantly recovered their human forms, and stood up one hundred fine,\nhandsome young men.\n\nThen were there rejoicings throughout the country, because the Ranee's\nbrothers had been disenchanted; and the Rajah sent out into all\nneighbouring lands to invite their Rajahs and Ranees to a great feast\nin honour of his brothers-in-law.\n\nAmong others who came to the feast was the Rajah, Draupadi Bai's\nfather, and the twelve wicked Ranees, his wives.\n\nWhen they were all assembled, Draupadi arose and said to him, \"Noble\nsir, we had looked to see your wife Guzra Bai with you. Pray you tell\nus wherefore she has not accompanied you.\"\n\nThe Rajah was much surprised to learn that Draupadi Bai knew anything\nabout Guzra Bai, and he said, \"Speak not of her: she is a wicked\nwoman; it is fit that she should end her days in prison.\"\n\nBut Draupadi Bai and her husband, and her hundred brothers rose and\nsaid, \"We require, O Rajah, that you send home instantly and fetch\nhither that much injured lady, which, if you refuse to do, your wives\nshall be imprisoned, and you ignominiously expelled this kingdom.\"\n\nThe Rajah could not guess what the meaning of this was, and thought\nthey merely wished to pick a quarrel with him; but not much caring\nwhether Guzra Bai came or not, he sent for her as was desired. When\nshe arrived, her daughter, Draupadi Bai, and her hundred sons, with\nDraupadi Bai's husband and the young Ramchundra, went out to the gate\nto meet her, and conducted her into the palace with all honour. Then,\nstanding around her, they turned to the Rajah, her husband, and\nrelated to him the story of their lives; how that they were his\nchildren, and Guzra Bai their mother; how she had been cruelly\ncalumniated by the twelve wicked Ranees, and they in constant peril of\ntheir lives; but having miraculously escaped many terrible dangers,\nstill lived to pay him duteous service and to cheer and support his\nold age.\n\nAt this news the whole company was very much astonished. The Rajah,\noverjoyed, embraced his wife, Guzra Bai, and it was agreed that she\nand their hundred sons should return with him to his own land, which\naccordingly was done. Ramchundra lived very happily with his father\nand mother to the day of their death, when he ascended the throne, and\nbecame a very popular Rajah; and the twelve wicked old Ranees, who had\nconspired against Guzra Bai and her children, were, by order of the\nRajah, burned to death. Thus truth triumphed in the end; but so\nunequally is human justice meted out that the old nurse, who worked\ntheir evil will, and was in fact the most guilty wretch of all, is\nsaid to have lived unpunished, to have died in the bosom of her\nfamily, and to have had as big a funeral pile as any virtuous Hindoo.\n\n\n\n\n_The Feast of the Lanterns_\n\n\nWang Chih was only a poor man, but he had a wife and children to love,\nand they made him so happy that he would not have changed places with\nthe Emperor himself.\n\nHe worked in the fields all day, and at night his wife always had a\nbowl of rice ready for his supper. And sometimes, for a treat, she\nmade him some bean soup, or gave him a little dish of fried pork.\n\nBut they could not afford pork very often; he generally had to be\ncontent with rice.\n\nOne morning, as he was setting off to his work, his wife sent Han\nChung, his son, running after him to ask him to bring home some\nfirewood.\n\n\"I shall have to go up into the mountain for it at noon,\" he said. \"Go\nand bring me my axe, Han Chung.\"\n\nHan Chung ran for his father's axe, and Ho-Seen-Ko, his little sister,\ncame out of the cottage with him.\n\n\"Remember it is the Feast of Lanterns to-night, father,\" she said.\n\"Don't fall asleep up on the mountain; we want you to come back and\nlight them for us.\"\n\nShe had a lantern in the shape of a fish, painted red and black and\nyellow, and Han Chung had got a big round one, all bright crimson, to\ncarry in the procession; and, besides that, there were two large\nlanterns to be hung outside the cottage door as soon at it grew dark.\n\nWang Chih was not likely to forget the Feast of Lanterns, for the\nchildren had talked of nothing else for a month, and he promised to\ncome home as early as he could.\n\nAt noontide, when his fellow-labourers gave up working, and sat down\nto rest and eat, Wang Chih took his axe and went up the mountain\nslope to find a small tree he might cut down for fuel.\n\nHe walked a long way, and at last saw one growing at the mouth of a\ncave.\n\n\"This will be just the thing,\" he said to himself. But, before\nstriking the first blow, he peeped into the cave to see if it were\nempty.\n\nTo his surprise, two old men, with long, white beards, were sitting\ninside playing chess, as quietly as mice, with their eyes fixed on the\nchessboard.\n\nWang Chih knew something of chess, and he stepped in and watched them\nfor a few minutes.\n\n\"As soon as they look up I can ask them if I may chop down a tree,\" he\nsaid to himself. But they did not look up, and by and by Wang Chih got\nso interested in the game that he put down his axe, and sat on the\nfloor to watch it better.\n\nThe two old men sat cross-legged on the ground, and the chessboard\nrested on a slab, like a stone table, between them.\n\nOn one corner of the slab lay a heap of small, brown objects which\nWang Chih took at first to be date stones; but after a time the\nchess-players ate one each, and put one in Wang Chih's mouth; and he\nfound it was not a date stone at all.\n\nIt was a delicious kind of sweetmeat, the like of which he had never\ntasted before; and the strangest thing about it was that it took his\nhunger and thirst away.\n\nHe had been both hungry and thirsty when he came into the cave, as he\nhad not waited to have his midday meal with the other field-workers;\nbut now he felt quite comforted and refreshed.\n\nHe sat there some time longer, and noticed that as the old men frowned\nover the chessboard, their beards grew longer and longer, until they\nswept the floor of the cave, and even found their way out of the door.\n\n\"I hope my beard will never grow as quickly,\" said Wang Chih, as he\nrose and took up his axe again.\n\nThen one of the old men spoke, for the first time. \"Our beards have\nnot grown quickly, young man. How long is it since you came here?\"\n\n\"About half an hour, I dare say,\" replied Wang Chih. But as he spoke,\nthe axe crumbled to dust beneath his fingers, and the second\nchess-player laughed, and pointed to the little brown sweetmeats on\nthe table.\n\n\"Half an hour, or half a century--aye, half a thousand years, are all\nalike to him who tastes of these. Go down into your village and see\nwhat has happened since you left it.\"\n\nSo Wang Chih went down as quickly as he could from the mountain, and\nfound the fields where he had worked covered with houses, and a busy\ntown where his own little village had been. In vain he looked for his\nhouse, his wife, and his children.\n\nThere were strange faces everywhere; and although when evening came\nthe Feast of Lanterns was being held once more, there was no\nHo-Seen-Ko carrying her red and yellow fish, or Han Chung with his\nflaming red ball.\n\nAt last he found a woman, a very, very old woman, who told him that\nwhen she was a tiny girl she remembered her grandmother saying how,\nwhen _she_ was a tiny girl, a poor young man had been spirited away by\nthe Genii of the mountains, on the day of the Feast of Lanterns,\nleaving his wife and little children with only a few handfuls of rice\nin the house.\n\n\"Moreover, if you wait while the procession passes, you will see two\nchildren dressed to represent Han Chung and Ho-Seen-Ko, and their\nmother carrying the empty rice-bowl between them; for this is done\nevery year to remind people to take care of the widow and fatherless,\"\nshe said. So Wang Chih waited in the street; and in a little while the\nprocession came to an end; and the last three figures in it were a boy\nand a girl, dressed like his own two children, walking on either side\nof a young woman carrying a rice-bowl. But she was not like his wife\nin anything but her dress, and the children were not at all like Han\nChung and Ho-Seen-Ko; and poor Wang Chih's heart was very heavy as he\nwalked away out of the town.\n\nHe slept out on the mountain, and early in the morning found his way\nback to the cave where the two old men were playing chess.\n\nAt first they said they could do nothing for him, and told him to go\naway and not disturb them; but Wang Chih would not go, and they soon\nfound the only way to get rid of him was to give him some really good\nadvice.\n\n\"You must go to the White Hare of the Moon, and ask him for a bottle\nof the elixir of life. If you drink that you will live forever,\" said\none of them.\n\n\"But I don't want to live forever,\" objected Wang Chih. \"I wish to go\nback and live in the days when my wife and children were here.\"\n\n\"Ah, well! For that you must mix the elixir of life with some water\nout of the sky-dragon's mouth.\"\n\n\"And where is the sky-dragon to be found?\" inquired Wang Chih.\n\n\"In the sky, of course. You really ask very stupid questions. He lives\nin a cloud-cave. And when he comes out of it he breathes fire, and\nsometimes water. If he is breathing fire you will be burnt up, but if\nit is only water, you will easily be able to catch some in a little\nbottle. What else do you want?\"\n\nFor Wang Chih still lingered at the mouth of the cave.\n\n\"I want a pair of wings to fly with, and a bottle to catch the water\nin,\" he replied boldly.\n\nSo they gave him a little bottle; and before he had time to say \"Thank\nyou!\" a white crane came sailing past, and lighted on the ground close\nto the cave.\n\n\"The crane will take you wherever you like,\" said the old men. \"Go\nnow, and leave us in peace.\"\n\nSo Wang Chih sat on the white crane's back, and was taken up, and up,\nand up through the sky to the cloud-cave where the sky-dragon lived.\nAnd the dragon had the head of a camel, the horns of a deer, the eyes\nof a rabbit, the ears of a cow and the claws of a hawk.\n\nBesides this, he had whiskers and a beard, and in his beard was a\nbright pearl.\n\nAll these things show that he was a real, genuine dragon, and if you\never meet a dragon who is not exactly like this, you will know he is\nonly a make-believe one.\n\nWang Chih felt rather frightened when he perceived the cave in the\ndistance, and if it had not been for the thought of seeing his wife\nagain, and his little boy and girl, he would have been glad to turn\nback.\n\nWhile he was far away the cloud-cave looked like a dark hole in the\nmidst of a soft, white, woolly mass, such as one sees in the sky on an\nApril day; but as he came nearer he found the cloud was as hard as a\nrock, and covered with a kind of dry, white grass.\n\nWhen he got there, he sat down on a tuft of grass near the cave, and\nconsidered what he should do next.\n\nThe first thing was, of course, to bring the dragon out, and the next\nto make him breathe water instead of fire.\n\n\"I have it!\" cried Wang Chih at last; and he nodded his head so many\ntimes that the white crane expected to see it fall off.\n\nHe struck a light, and set the grass on fire, and it was so dry that\nthe flames spread all around the entrance to the cave, and made such a\nsmoke and crackling that the sky-dragon put his head out to see what\nwas the matter.\n\n\"Ho! ho!\" cried the dragon, when he saw what Wang Chih had done, \"I\ncan soon put this to rights.\" And he breathed once, and the water came\nout his nose and mouth in three streams.\n\nBut this was not enough to put the fire out. Then he breathed twice,\nand the water came out in three mighty rivers, and Wang Chih, who had\ntaken care to fill his bottle when the first stream began to flow,\nsailed away on the white crane's back as fast as he could, to escape\nbeing drowned.\n\nThe rivers poured over the cloud rock, until there was not a spark\nleft alight, and rushed down through the sky into the sea below.\n\nFortunately, the sea lay right underneath the dragon's cave, or he\nwould have done some nice mischief. As it was, the people on the\ncoast looked out across the water toward Japan, and saw three\ninky-black clouds stretching from the sky into the sea.\n\n\"My word! There is a fine rain-storm out at sea!\" they said to each\nother.\n\nBut, of course, it was nothing of the kind; it was only the sky-dragon\nputting out the fire Wang Chih had kindled.\n\nMeanwhile, Wang Chih was on his way to the moon, and when he got there\nhe went straight to the hut where the Hare of the Moon lived, and\nknocked at the door.\n\nThe Hare was busy pounding the drugs which make up the elixir of life;\nbut he left his work, and opened the door, and invited Wang Chih to\ncome in.\n\nHe was not ugly, like the dragon; his fur was quite white and soft and\nglossy, and he had lovely, gentle brown eyes.\n\nThe Hare of the Moon lives a thousand years, as you know, and when he\nis five hundred years old he changes his colour, from brown to white,\nand becomes, if possible, better tempered and nicer than he was\nbefore.\n\nAs soon as he heard what Wang Chih wanted, he opened two windows at\nthe back of the hut, and told him to look through each of them in\nturn.\n\n\"Tell me what you see,\" said the Hare, going back to the table where\nhe was pounding the drugs.\n\n\"I can see a great many houses and people,\" said Wang Chih, \"and\nstreets--why, this is the town I was in yesterday, the one which has\ntaken the place of my old village.\"\n\nWang Chih stared, and grew more and more puzzled. Here he was up in\nthe moon, and yet he could have thrown a stone into the busy street of\nthe Chinese town below his window.\n\n\"How does it come here?\" he stammered, at last.\n\n\"Oh, that is my secret,\" replied the wise old Hare. \"I know how to do\na great many things which would surprise you. But the question is, do\nyou want to go back there?\"\n\nWang Chih shook his head.\n\n\"Then close the window. It is the window of the Present. And look\nthrough the other, which is the window of the Past.\"\n\nWang Chih obeyed, and through this window he saw his own dear little\nvillage, and his wife, and Han Chung and Ho-Seen-Ko jumping about her\nas she hung up the coloured lanterns outside the door.\n\n\"Father won't be in time to light them for us, after all,\" Han Chung\nwas saying.\n\nWang Chih turned, and looked eagerly at the White Hare.\n\n\"Let me go to them,\" he said. \"I have got a bottle of water from the\nsky-dragon's mouth, and--\"\n\n\"That's all right,\" said the White Hare. \"Give it to me.\"\n\nHe opened the bottle, and mixed the contents carefully with a few\ndrops of the elixir of life, which was clear as crystal, and of which\neach drop shone like a diamond as he poured it in.\n\n\"Now, drink this,\" he said to Wang Chih, \"and it will give you the\npower of living once more in the past, as you desire.\"\n\nWang Chih held out his hand, and drank every drop.\n\nThe moment he had done so, the window grew larger, and he saw some\nsteps leading from it down into the village street.\n\nThanking the Hare, he rushed through it, and ran toward his own house,\narriving in time to take the taper from his wife's hand with which she\nwas about to light the red and yellow lanterns which swung over the\ndoor.\n\n\"What has kept you so long, father? Where have you been?\" asked Han\nChung, while little Ho-Seen-Ko wondered why he kissed and embraced\nthem all so eagerly.\n\nBut Wang Chih did not tell them his adventures just then; only when\ndarkness fell, and the Feast of Lanterns began, he took his part in it\nwith a merry heart.\n\n\n\n\n_The Lake of Gems_\n\n\nOnce upon a time, so very long ago that even the great-grandfathers of\nour great-grandmothers had not been born, there lived in the city of\nKwen-lu a little Chinese boy named Pei-Hang.\n\nHis father and mother loved him dearly, and did all they could to\nshield him from the power of the evil Genii, or spirits, of whom there\nwere a great many in China. Of course, there were some good Genii too,\nbut most of them were very much the reverse, and Pei-Hang's mother was\nalways taking precautions against them.\n\nNow it is said that a wicked Geni will not come near a Chinese boy if\nhe has some red silk braided in with his pigtail, or if he wears a\nsilver chain round his neck.\n\nAnd the most daring Geni has a great dread of old fishing-nets.\n\nPei-Hang's mother made him a little shirt out of an old fishing-net to\nwear next to his skin, and she took care that his pigtail should be\nplaited with the brightest red silk she could buy.\n\nShe was particular in having his head shaved in exactly the right way,\ntoo, and to have a tuft left sticking up in the luckiest place.\n\nWith all these precautions Pei-Hang got safely over the troubles of\nhis babyhood, and grew from a little boy into a big one, and from a\nboy to a tall and handsome youth; and he left off wearing his netted\nshirt, although the silver chain still hung round his neck and there\nwas red silk in his pigtail.\n\n\"It is time that Pei-Hang saw a little more,\" said his father. \"He\nmust go to Chang-ngan, and study under the wise men there, and find\nout what the world is thinking about.\"\n\nChang-ngan was the old capital of China, a very great city indeed,\nand Pin-Too, the master to whom Pei-Hang was sent was the wisest man\nin it.\n\nAnd there Pei-Hang soon learned what the world was thinking about, and\nmany things besides. And as soon as he was eighteen he took the red\nsilk out of his pigtail and the silver chain from his neck; for\ngrown-up people do not need charms to protect them from the\nGenii--they can generally protect themselves.\n\nWhen he was twenty, Pin-Too told him he could not teach him any more.\n\n\"It is time for you to go back to your parents, and comfort them in\ntheir old age,\" he said.\n\nHe looked very sorry as he said it, for Pei-Hang had been his\nfavourite pupil.\n\n\"I will start to-morrow, Master,\" replied Pei-Hang, obediently. \"I\nwill leave the city by the Golden Bridge.\"\n\n\"No, you must go by the Indigo Bridge, for there you will meet your\nfuture wife,\" said Pin-Too.\n\n\"I was not thinking of a wife,\" observed Pei-Hang, with some dismay.\n\nAnd Pin-Too wrinkled up his eyes and laughed.\n\n\"All the better!\" he said. \"Because, when you have once seen her, you\nwill be able to think of nothing else.\"\n\nIt was very hot weather, and Pei-Hang ought to have started early in\nthe morning; but he sat so long over his books the night before his\njourney that he fell fast asleep just before sunrise, and slept all\nthrough the coolest hours of the day.\n\nWhen he awoke, the sun was blazing down upon the streets of\nChang-ngan, and making the town like a furnace.\n\nHowever, Pei-Hang took up his stick and set off, because he had\npromised his father and mother to start that day.\n\n\"I will rest a little at the Indigo Bridge, and walk on again in the\ncool of the evening,\" he said to himself.\n\nBut on the bridge he fell asleep again, so tired was he with the many\nsleepless nights he had spent in study.\n\nWhile he slept he had a dream, in which a tall and beautiful maiden\nappeared to him, and showed him her right foot, round which a red cord\nwas bound.\n\n\"What is the meaning of it?\" asked Pei-Hang, who could hardly take his\neyes away from her face to look at her foot.\n\n\"What is the meaning of the red cord around your foot, too?\" replied\nthe girl.\n\nThen Pei-Hang glanced at his right foot, and saw that his foot and the\ngirl's were tied together by the same thin red cord; and by this he\nknew that she must be his future wife.\n\n\"I have heard my mother say,\" he said, \"that when a boy is born, the\nFairy of the Moon ties an invisible red cord round his right foot, and\nthe other end of the cord round the foot of the girl-baby whom he is\nto marry.\"\n\n\"That is quite true,\" said the maiden; \"and _this_ is an invisible\ncord to people who are awake. Now I will tell you my name, and\nremember it when you hear it again. It is Yun-Ying.\"\n\n\"And I will tell you mine,\" began Pei-Hang, but Yun-Ying stopped him,\nsmiling.\n\n\"Ah, I know yours, and all about you,\" she said.\n\nThis surprised Pei-Hang very much; but he need not have been greatly\nastonished, for everyone in Chang-ngan knew that Pei-Hang was the\nhandsomest and wisest and best loved pupil the wise Pin-Too had ever\nhad.\n\nAnd Yun-Ying lived quite close to the city, and had often seen\nPei-Hang walking through the streets with his books.\n\nWhen Pei-Hang awoke, he found, as she had said, that there was no red\ncord around his foot, and no fair maiden looking down at him, either.\n\n\"I wonder if she is real, or only a dream-maiden, after all,\" he said\nto himself.\n\nBut Yun-Ying was quite real; only her mother, who knew something of\nmagic, had given her the power of stepping in and out of people's\ndreams just as she chose.\n\nPei-Hang got up and went on his way, thinking of Yun-Ying all the\ntime.\n\nIt was still very hot, and he grew so thirsty that he went to a little\nhut by the roadside, and asked an old woman who was sitting in the\ndoorway to give him a drink.\n\nThe old dame told her daughter to fill their best goblet with fresh\nspring water, and bring it out to the stranger; and when the daughter\nappeared, it was none other than Yun-Ying herself.\n\n\"Oh!\" cried Pei-Hang, \"I thought perhaps I should never see you again,\nand I have found you almost directly.\"\n\n\"And what is my name?\" asked the girl, laughing.\n\n\"Yun-Ying,\" replied Pei-Hang. \"Yun-Ying, Yun-Ying,\" he repeated, in a\nsinging tone, just as he had been saying it all the time as he walked\nalong, as if he loved the sound of it.\n\nYun-Ying was dressed in white underneath, but her over-dress was\nbright blue, embroidered with beautiful flowers which she had worked\nherself; and she stood in the door of the hut, with a peach tree in\nfull bloom over her head, making such a picture of youth and\nloveliness that Pei-Hang's heart seemed to jump up into his throat,\nand beat there fast enough to choke him.\n\n\"Who are you? And how do you come to know Yun-Ying?\" asked the old\nwoman peering and blinking at him, with her hand over her eyes, to\nshade them from the sun.\n\nAnd when she heard about the dream, and the red cord, and that\nPei-Hang wanted to marry her daughter, she did not look at all\npleased.\n\n\"If I had two daughters you might have one of them, and welcome,\" she\ngrumbled.\n\nFor Pei-Hang was not by any means a bad match. His parents were well\noff, and he was their only child.\n\nBut Yun-Ying was a very pretty girl, and a mandarin of Chang-ngan was\nanxious to make her his wife.\n\n\"He is four times her age, it is true,\" said her mother, explaining\nthis to Pei-Hang; \"but he is very rich. All his dishes and plates are\ngold, and they say his drinking-cups are gold, set with diamonds.\"\n\n\"He is old and wrinkled, like a little brown monkey,\" said Yun-Ying.\n\"_I_ don't want to marry him! And, besides, the Fairy of the Moon\ndidn't tie my foot to his.\"\n\n\"No, that's true enough,\" sighed her mother.\n\nShe would have liked to tell Pei-Hang to go about his business, but\nshe knew if the red cord had really been tied between his foot and\nYun-Ying's, it would not be safe to do that.\n\n\"Come inside,\" she said at last; \"I'll see what I can promise.\"\n\nThe inside of the hut was fragrant with the scent of herbs which were\nstrewn all over the floor, and on a wooden stool in the middle lay a\nbroken pestle and mortar.\n\n\"Now,\" said Yun-Ying's mother, \"on this stool I pound magic drugs\ngiven to me by the Genii; but my pestle and mortar is broken. I want a\nnew one.\"\n\n\"That I can easily buy in Chang-ngan,\" replied Pei-Hang.\n\n\"No; for it is a pestle and mortar of jade, and you can only get one\nlike it by going to the home of the Genii, which is on a mountain\nabove the Lake of Gems. If you will do that, and bring it back to me,\nyou shall marry Yun-Ying.\"\n\n\"Yes, I will do that,\" said Pei-Hang, after a moment's thought. \"But I\nmust see my parents first.\"\n\nHe had not the least idea where the home of the Genii was; but\nYun-Ying took him out into the garden, and showed him, in the far\ndistance, a range of snow-capped mountains, with one peak towering\nabove the rest.\n\n\"That is Mount Sumi,\" she said, \"and it is there the Genii live,\nsitting on the snow-peaks, and looking down at the Lake of Gems.\"\n\n\"But to reach it you must cross the Blue River, the White River, the\nRed River, and the Black River, which are all full of monstrous\nfishes. That is why my mother is sending you,\" sighed Yun-Ying. \"She\nthinks you will never come back alive.\"\n\n\"I know how to swim,\" said Pei-Hang, \"and fishes don't frighten me.\"\n\n\"Promise me you won't try to swim,\" said Yun-Ying, earnestly. \"You\nwould be devoured in a moment. Take this box with you. In it you will\nfind six red seeds. Throw one into each river as you come to it, and\nit will shrink into a little brook, over which you can jump.\"\n\nPei-Hang opened the box, and saw inside six round, red seeds, each\nabout the size of a pea; and he agreed to use them as Yun-Ying\ndirected. Then he kissed her, and set out on his journey to Mount\nSumi.\n\nBut on his way across the plain he passed through the town where his\nparents lived, and he went to see them, and told them all that had\nhappened since he left Chang-ngan.\n\nHis mother, who was a very wise woman, as mothers generally are, told\nhim the Genii would be angry if he turned their four great rivers into\nbrooks, and would probably refuse to give him a pestle and mortar made\nof jade.\n\n\"I never thought of that,\" said Pei-Hang.\n\n\"Never mind,\" said his mother, \"I will give you a box containing six\nwhite seeds. Cast one into each brook when you have crossed it on your\nway home, and the brook will expand into a river again.\"\n\nEarly the next morning Pei-Hang kissed her and went on his way.\n\nHe rested during the midday heat, and continued his journey when it\ngrew cool again; and in this way, at the end of seven days, he came to\nthe Blue River.\n\nIt was a quarter of a mile wide, and as blue as the sky of midsummer,\nand fishes were popping their heads out of the water in every\ndirection. The head of every fish was twice as large as a football,\nand had two rows of teeth. But Pei-Hang threw a red seed into the\nwaves which were lapping the shore, and in a moment, instead of the\nwide blue river, a little brook lay at his feet.\n\nThe huge fishes were changed into tiny creatures like tadpoles, and he\nhopped across the brook on one foot.\n\nSoon afterward he came to the White River, which was half a mile wide,\nso rapid that it was covered with foam, like new milk, and full of\nimmense sea serpents. \"I shan't be able to hop over _this_ on one\nfoot,\" thought Pei-Hang, throwing his red seed into the water.\n\nBut to his surprise the White River shrank just as rapidly as the Blue\nRiver into a tiny rippling brook, with some wee wriggling eels at the\nbottom.\n\nPei-Hang leaped lightly over it, and walked a long way before he came\nin sight of the Red River.\n\nThis was three-quarters of a mile wide, and bright scarlet. It looked\nlike a flood of melted sealing-wax, and a row of alligators, with\ntheir mouths wide open, stretched right across it like a bridge.\n\n\"Now for my little red seed!\" said Pei-Hang, opening his box quite\ncheerfully.\n\nThe nearest alligator made a snap at the seed as it sank in the river,\nbut he missed it, and the next minute he found himself no bigger than\na lizard, sitting at the bottom of a stream not half a yard across. At\nthe other side of it Pei-Hang was met by one of the Genii, who had\ncome down from his snow-peak to see who it was that had dared to play\nsuch tricks with the three mighty rivers.\n\nPei-Hang showed him the round white seeds in his other box.\n\n\"It is all right,\" he said, \"I can make them as large as they were\nbefore, on my way back. But first I must find the home of the Genii,\nand get a pestle and mortar of jade for my future mother-in-law to\npound her magic drugs in.\"\n\n\"First you must cross the Black River,\" replied the Geni, with rather\na scornful laugh. \"It is a mile wide, and the fish in it are six yards\nlong, and covered with spikes like porcupines.\"\n\n\"How did you get across?\" inquired Pei-Hang.\n\n\"I? Oh, I can fly,\" said the Geni.\n\n\"And I can jump,\" retorted Pei-Hang, sturdily.\n\nThe Geni walked with him as far as the Black River, and when our hero\nsaw the great waste of water as black as ink, stretching away in front\nof him, it must be confessed his heart sank a little.\n\nBut he took out his fourth seed, and watched it disappear beneath a\ncoal-black wave.\n\nIn an instant, to the Geni's astonishment, the river dried up, leaving\nonly a shallow stream running through the grass at their feet.\n\nThe Geni was not altogether a bad-hearted fellow, and he was also much\nimpressed by the wonderful things Pei-Hang seemed able to do; so he\noffered to show him the nearest way to the home of the Genii, on the\ntop of Mount Sumi.\n\nAfter a long and wearisome climb they got up there, and found eight of\nthe Genii sitting on eight snow-peaks, and looking down on the Lake of\nGems, as Yun-Ying had said.\n\nThe Lake of Gems lay on the other side of Mount Sumi, and was a\nbeautiful sheet of water, flashing all the colours of the rainbow.\n\nPei-Hang could not take his eyes off it. He forgot all about the\npestle and mortar as he watched the waves rippling along the shore,\nand leaving behind them diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and pearls in\nthousands.\n\nEvery pebble on the margin of the lake was a precious stone, and\nPei-Hang wanted to go down and fill his pockets with them.\n\nHe stood there while the Geni who had been his guide explained to the\nothers why he had come, and told them about the wonderful red and\nwhite seeds he carried about with him.\n\n\"We must let him have the pestle and mortar,\" he said, \"or he won't\ngive us our rivers back again.\" The eight Genii nodded their eight\nheads, and spoke all at once, with a noise which was like the rumble\nof thunder among the hills. \"Let him take it, if he can carry it,\"\nthey said.\n\nAnd they laughed until the snow-peaks shook beneath them; for the\nmortar made of jade was six feet high and four feet wide and the\npestle was so heavy no mortal could lift it.\n\nPei-Hang, when he had finished staring at the Lake of Gems, walked\nround it, and wondered how he was to carry it down the mountain and\nacross the plains to Chang-ngan.\n\nThen he sat down on the ground to think the matter over, and the\nGenii, even his own good-natured Geni, laughed at him again.\n\n\"Come!\" they said. \"If you like to fill the mortar with precious\nstones, you may do it. Any man who can carry it empty can carry it\nfull.\"\n\n\"Because no one can carry it at all,\" concluded the good-natured Geni,\nsoftly to himself.\n\nPei-Hang folded his arms, and sat still, and thought, and thought, and\ntook no notice of their gibes and sneers.\n\nHe had not studied three years with the wisest man in Chang-ngan for\nnothing, and, besides, he was determined to marry Yun-Ying, and when\nyoung men are very much in love, they sometimes accomplish things\nwhich their friends--and enemies--think are impossible.\n\nAt last a light came into his eyes; and he jumped up and asked the\nfriendly Geni if he would make a little heap of stones at one side of\nthe mortar.\n\n\"I want to be able to look inside it, and I am not tall enough,\" said\nhe.\n\n\"And why don't you do it yourself?\" asked the Geni.\n\n\"Because I must go down to the Lake of Gems and collect precious\nstones,\" replied Pei-Hang.\n\nAnd he ran down to the shore of the lake and gathered diamonds,\nrubies, emeralds, pearls, and sapphires, as many as he could carry.\n\nThis he did again and again, emptying them into the mortar each time,\nuntil it was quite full, and held gems enough to make Pei-Hang the\nrichest man in China.\n\nThis was exactly what he wanted; for he knew that the yellow-faced\nmandarin was only the richest man in Chang-ngan, and that the richest\nman in China would have a far greater chance of marrying Yun-Ying.\n\n\"Well, what next?\" cried the eight Genii, when he had finished. \"Will\nyou take it on your shoulder or on your head?\"\n\n\"I will just carry it under my arm,\" replied Pei-Hang, easily.\n\nAnd he took out his little box, and threw one of his red seeds on top\nof the gems.\n\nIn a moment the gigantic pestle and mortar shrank into one of the\nordinary size.\n\nPei-Hang put the pestle in his pocket, and took up the mortar\ncarefully, because he did not wish to spill the precious stones, and\nmade a low bow to the Genii.\n\n\"Good-bye, and thank you,\" he said.\n\nThey did not laugh this time, but they pursued him with such a roar of\nrage that it sounded as if eight lions were waiting for their dinner.\n\nBut they did not dare to stop him, knowing that he had the power to\nturn the four brooks into four rivers again.\n\nPei-Hang hurried away, and on his journey did exactly what he had\npromised.\n\nHe jumped across the first brook, and threw a white seed into it, and\nturned it into a terrible inky black waste of waters a mile wide, full\nof fishes six yards long, and every fish covered with spikes.\n\nThe Genii stopped roaring then; they were relieved to see the Black\nRiver rolling once more between them and the outer world.\n\nWhen Pei-Hang came to the Red River, and the White River, and the Blue\nRiver, he did the same thing; and from that day to this no one has\nbeen able to find the home of the Genii, because no one but Pei-Hang\ncould ever cross the Blue River, much less the other three.\n\nThen Pei-Hang journeyed for seven days, and came to his father's and\nmother's house, and told them all that had happened since he had left\nthem, and he gave them a ruby, a diamond, an emerald, a sapphire, a\npearl, and a pink topaz, a jewel for every white seed his mother had\ngiven him, and each as large as a sparrow's egg. After that he went on\nto Chang-ngan, and there he found that, although he had only been a\nmonth away, Yun-Ying's mother had told everyone he was dead, and\ninvited all her friends to a wedding feast in honour of her daughter's\nmarriage with the yellow-faced old mandarin. The wedding had not taken\nplace when Pei-Hang arrived; but Yun-Ying stood under the peach tree,\nin her wedding dress, which was of pink silk, all embroidered with\nsilver, and when she saw Pei-Hang, she threw herself into his arms and\nthe tears ran down her cheeks.\n\nPei-Hang put down the pestle and mortar while he comforted her, and\nher mother came running out to look at it.\n\n\"You have come too late to marry Yun-Ying,\" she said. \"But I'll buy\nthe pestle and mortar from you with some of the money the mandarin has\ngiven me.\"\n\n\"No, you will not,\" replied Pei-Hang. And he dropped one of his white\nseeds into the mortar, which at once increased in size until it filled\nthe whole grass plat under the peach tree, and it was full to the brim\nof glittering jewels.\n\nPei-Hang climbed into one of the branches overhanging it, and from\nthere he threw down among the wedding guests diamonds, rubies,\nemeralds, and all kinds of precious stones.\n\nAnd the yellow-faced mandarin was as busy picking them up as anyone.\n\n\"Although he is so rich that his drinking-cups are made of gold!\"\ncried the others, indignantly.\n\n\"One can never have too much of a good thing. He! he! he!\" he\nchuckled.\n\nAnd when Pei-Hang offered him three rubies, each as large as a\npigeon's egg, if he would go away and forget all about Yun-Ying, he\ntook them and went.\n\nPerhaps he knew that Yun-Ying's mother would not have much more to say\nto him, now that she had a chance of a son-in-law who scattered jewels\nabout the grass like pearl barley.\n\nOr perhaps he really preferred the three great rubies to Yun-Ying.\n\nAt any rate, he went back to Chang-ngan, and Pei-Hang married Yun\nYing, and took her away to the city where his father and mother lived;\nand they were as happy as two young people deserve to be when they\nlove each other dearly.\n\nAs for the pestle and mortar of jade, it stood under the peach tree;\nand no one could lift it into the cottage, and no one could have\npounded magic drugs in it, if they could have got it inside.\n\nPei-Hang had one red seed left in his box, and he meant to have thrown\nit into the mortar as soon as he had taken all the precious stones\nout, and made it small again.\n\nBut while he was up in the peach tree the box flew open, and the seed\nfell out, and was gobbled up by a turkey underneath.\n\nThe turkey, of course, changed into a bantam cock; but the pestle and\nmortar had to remain the size it was.\n\nAnd Yun-Ying's mother was very angry about it, although I do not think\nshe deserved anything else, after the unfair advantage she had tried\nto take of her son-in-law.\n\n\n\n\n_The Sea-Maiden_\n\n\nThere was once a poor old fisherman, and one year he was not getting\nmuch fish. On a day of days, while he was fishing, there rose a\nsea-maiden at the side of his boat, and she asked him, \"Are you\ngetting much fish?\" The old man answered and said, \"Not I.\" \"What\nreward would you give me for sending plenty of fish to you?\" \"Ach!\"\nsaid the old man, \"I have not much to spare.\" \"Will you give me the\nfirst son you have?\" said she. \"I would give ye that, were I to have a\nson,\" said he. \"Then go home, and remember me when your son is twenty\nyears of age, and you yourself will get plenty of fish after this.\"\nEverything happened as the sea-maiden said, and he himself got plenty\nof fish; but when the end of the twenty years was nearing, the old man\nwas growing more and more sorrowful and heavy-hearted, while he\ncounted each day as it came.\n\nHe had rest neither day nor night. The son asked his father one day,\n\"Is any one troubling you?\" The old man said, \"Someone is, but that's\nnought to do with you nor anyone else.\" The lad said, \"I _must_ know\nwhat it is.\" His father told him at last how the matter was with him\nand the sea-maiden. \"Let not that put you in any trouble,\" said the\nson; \"I will not oppose you.\" \"You shall not; you shall not go, my\nson, though I never get fish any more.\" \"If you will not let me go\nwith you, go to the smithy, and let the smith make me a great strong\nsword, and I will go seek my fortune.\"\n\nHis father went to the smithy, and the smith made a doughty sword for\nhim. His father came home with the sword. The lad grasped it and gave\nit a shake or two, and it flew into a hundred splinters. He asked his\nfather to go to the smithy and get him another sword in which there\nshould be twice as much weight; and so his father did, and so likewise\nit happened to the next sword--it broke in two halves. Back went the\nold man to the smithy; and the smith made a great sword; its like he\nnever made before. \"There's the sword for thee,\" said the smith, \"and\nthe fist must be good that plays this blade.\" The old man gave the\nsword to his son; he gave it a shake or two. \"This will do,\" said he;\n\"it's high time now to travel on my way.\"\n\nOn the next morning he put a saddle on a black horse that his father\nhad, and he took the world for his pillow. When he went on a bit, he\nfell in with the carcass of a sheep beside the road. And there were a\ngreat black dog, a falcon, and an otter, and they were quarrelling\nover the spoil. So they asked him to divide it for them. He came down\noff the horse, and he divided the carcass amongst the three, three\nshares to the dog, two shares to the otter, and a share to the falcon.\n\"For this,\" said the dog, \"if swiftness of foot or sharpness of tooth\nwill give thee aid, mind me, and I will be at thy side.\" Said the\notter, \"If the swimming of foot on the ground of a pool will loose\nthee, mind me, and I will be at thy side.\" Said the falcon, \"If\nhardship comes on thee, where swiftness of wing or crook of claw will\ndo good, mind me, and I will be at thy side.\"\n\nOn this he went onward till he reached a king's house, and he took\nservice to be a herd, and his wages were to be according to the milk\nof the cattle. He went away with the cattle, and the grazing was but\nbare. In the evening when he took them home they had not much milk,\nthe place was so bare, and his meat and drink was but spare that\nnight.\n\nOn the next day he went farther on with them; and at last he came to a\nplace exceedingly grassy, in a great glen, of which he never saw the\nlike.\n\nBut about the time when he should drive the cattle home-wards, whom\nshould he see coming but a great giant with a sword in his hand? \"HI!\nHO!! HOGARACH!!!\" says the giant. \"Those cattle are mine; they are on\nmy land, and a dead man art thou.\" \"I say not that,\" says the herd;\n\"there is no knowing, but that may be easier to say than to do.\"\n\nHe drew the great clean-sweeping sword, and he neared the giant. The\nherd drew back his sword, and the head was off the giant in a\ntwinkling. He leaped on the black horse, and he went to look for the\ngiant's house. In went the herd, and that's the place where there was\nmoney in plenty, and dresses of each kind in the wardrobe with gold\nand silver, and each thing finer than the other. At the mouth of night\nhe took himself to the king's house, but he took not a thing from the\ngiant's house. And when the cattle were milked this night there _was_\nmilk! He got good feeding this night, meat and drink without stint,\nand the king was hugely pleased that he had caught such a herd. He\nwent on for a time in this way, but at last the glen grew bare of\ngrass, and the grazing was not so good.\n\nSo he thought he would go a little farther forward in on the giant's\nland; and he sees a great park of grass. He returned for the cattle,\nand he put them into the park.\n\nThey were but a short time grazing in the park when a great wild giant\ncame, full of rage and madness. \"HI! HAW!! HOGARAICH!!!\" said the\ngiant; \"it is a drink of thy blood that will quench my thirst this\nnight.\" \"There is no knowing,\" said the herd, \"but that's easier to\nsay than to do.\" And at each other went the men. _There_ was shaking\nof blades! At length and at last it seemed as if the giant would get\nthe victory over the herd. Then he called on the dog, and with one\nspring the black dog caught the giant by the neck, and swiftly the\nherd struck off his head.\n\nHe went home very tired this night, but it's a wonder if the king's\ncattle had not milk. The whole family was delighted that they had got\nsuch a herd.\n\nNext day he betakes himself to the castle. When he reached the door, a\nlittle flattering carlin met him standing in the door. \"All hail and\ngood luck to thee, fisher's son! 't is I myself am pleased to see\nthee; great is the honour for this kingdom, for thy like to be come\ninto it--thy coming in is fame for this little bothy; go in first;\nhonour to the gentles; go in, and take breath.\"\n\n\"In before me, thou crone; I like not flattery out of doors; go in and\nlet's hear thy speech.\" In went the crone, and when her back was to\nhim he drew his sword and whips off her head; but the sword flew out\nof his hand. And swift the crone gripped her head with both hands, and\nput it on her neck as it was before. The dog sprang on the crone, and\nshe struck the generous dog with the club of magic; and there he lay.\nBut the herd struggled for a hold of the club of magic, and with one\nblow on the top of the head she was on earth in the twinkling of an\neye. He went forward, up a little, and there was spoil! Gold and\nsilver, and each thing more precious than another, in the crone's\ncastle. He went back to the king's house, and there was rejoicing.\n\nHe followed herding in this way for a time; but one night after he\ncame home, instead of getting \"All hail!\" and \"Good luck!\" from the\ndairymaid, all were at crying and woe.\n\nHe asked what cause of woe there was that night. The dairymaid said,\n\"There is a great beast with three heads in the loch, and it must get\nsomeone every year, and the lot had come this year on the king's\ndaughter, and at midday to-morrow she is to meet the Laidly Beast at\nthe upper end of the loch, but there is a great suitor yonder who is\ngoing to rescue her.\"\n\n\"What suitor is that?\" said the herd. \"Oh, he is a great general of\narms,\" said the dairymaid, \"and when he kills the beast, he will marry\nthe king's daughter, for the king has said that he who could save his\ndaughter should get her to marry.\"\n\nBut on the morrow, when the time grew near, the king's daughter and\nthis hero of arms went to give a meeting to the beast, and they\nreached the black rock at the upper end of the loch. They were but a\nshort time there when the beast stirred in the midst of the loch; but\nwhen the general saw this terror of a beast with three heads, he took\nfright, and he slunk away, and he hid himself. And the king's\ndaughter was under fear and under trembling, with no one at all to\nsave her. Suddenly she sees a doughty, handsome youth, riding a black\nhorse, and coming where she was. He was marvellously arrayed and full\narmed, and his black dog moved after him. \"There is gloom on your\nface, girl,\" said the youth; \"what do you here?\"\n\n\"Oh! that's no matter,\" said the king's daughter. \"It's not long I'll\nbe here at all events.\"\n\n\"I say not that,\" said he.\n\n\"A champion fled as likely as you, and not long since,\" said she.\n\n\"He is a champion who stands the war,\" said the youth. And to meet the\nbeast he went with his sword and his dog. But there was a spluttering\nand a splashing between himself and the beast! The dog kept doing all\nhe might, and the king's daughter was palsied by fear of the noise of\nthe beast! One of them would now be under, and now above. But at last\nhe cut one of the heads off it. It gave one roar, and the son of\nearth, echo of the rocks, called to its screech, and it drove the loch\nin spindrift from end to end, and in a twinkling it went out of sight.\n\n\"Good luck and victory follow you, lad!\" said the king's daughter. \"I\nam safe for one night, but the beast will come again and again, until\nthe other two heads come off it.\" He caught the beast's head, and he\ndrew a knot through it, and he told her to bring it with her there\nto-morrow. She gave him a gold ring, and went home with the head on\nher shoulder, and the herd betook himself to the cows. But she had not\ngone far when this great general saw her, and he said to her, \"I will\nkill you if you do not say 't was I took the head off the beast.\"\n\"Oh!\" says she, \"'t is I will say it; who else took the head off the\nbeast but you!\" They reached the king's house, and the head was on the\ngeneral's shoulder. But here was rejoicing, that she should come home\nalive and whole, and this great captain with the beast's head full of\nblood in hand. On the morrow they went away, and there was no\nquestion at all but that this hero would save the king's daughter.\n\nThey reached the same place, and they were not long there when the\nfearful Laidly Beast stirred in the midst of the loch, and the hero\nslunk away as he did on yesterday: but it was not long after this when\nthe man of the black horse came, with another dress on. No matter; she\nknew that it was the very same lad. \"It is I am pleased to see you,\"\nsaid she. \"I am in hopes you will handle your great sword to-day as\nyou did yesterday. Come up and take breath.\" But they were not long\nthere when they saw the beast steaming in the midst of the loch.\n\nAt once he went to meet the beast, but _there_ was Cloopersteich and\nClapersteich, spluttering, splashing, raving, and roaring on the\nbeast! They kept at it thus for a long time, and about the mouth of\nthe night he cut another head off the beast. He put it on the knot and\ngave it to her. She gave him one of her earrings, and he leaped on the\nblack horse, and he betook himself to the herding. The king's daughter\nwent home with the heads. The general met her, and took the heads from\nher, and he said to her that she must tell that it was he who took the\nhead off of the beast this time also. \"Who else took the head off the\nbeast but you?\" said she. They reached the king's house with the\nheads. Then there was joy and gladness.\n\nAbout the same time on the morrow, the two went away. The officer hid\nhimself as he usually did. The king's daughter betook herself to the\nbank of the loch. The hero of the black horse came, and if roaring and\nraving were on the beast on the days that were passed, this day it was\nhorrible. But no matter, he took the third head off the beast, and\ndrew it through the knot, and gave it to her. She gave him her other\nearring, and then she went home with the heads. When they reached the\nking's house, all were full of smiles, and the general was to marry\nthe king's daughter the next day. The wedding was going on, and\neveryone about the castle longing till the priest should come. But\nwhen the priest came, she would marry only the one who could take the\nheads off the knot without cutting it. \"Who should take the heads off\nthe knot but the man that put the heads on?\" said the king.\n\nThe general tried them, but he could not loose them, and at last there\nwas no one about the house but had tried to take the heads off the\nknot, but they could not. The king asked if there was anyone else\nabout the house that would try to take the heads off the knot. They\nsaid that the herd had not tried them yet. Word went for the herd; and\nhe was not long throwing them hither and thither. \"But stop a bit, my\nlad,\" said the king's daughter; \"the man that took the heads off the\nbeast, he has my ring and my two earrings.\" The herd put his hand in\nhis pocket, and he threw them on the board. \"Thou art my man,\" said\nthe king's daughter. The king was not so pleased when he saw that it\nwas a herd who was to marry his daughter, and he ordered that he\nshould be put in a better dress; but his daughter spoke, and she said\nthat he had a dress as fine as any that ever was in his castle; and\nthus it happened. The herd put on the giant's golden dress, and they\nwere married that same day.\n\nThey were now married, and everything went on well. But one day, and\nit was the namesake of the day when his father had promised him to the\nsea-maiden, they were sauntering by the side of the loch, and lo, and\nbehold! she came and took him away to the loch without leave or\nasking. The king's daughter was now mournful, tearful, blind-sorrowful\nfor her married man; she was always with her eye on the loch. An old\nsoothsayer met her, and she told how it had befallen her married mate.\nThen he told her the thing to do to save her mate, and that she did.\n\nShe took her harp to the sea-shore, and sat and played; and the\nsea-maiden came up to listen, for sea-maidens are fonder of music than\nall other creatures. But when the wife saw the sea-maiden she stopped.\nThe sea-maiden said, \"Play on!\" but the princess said, \"No, not till I\nsee my man again.\" So the sea-maiden put up his head out of the loch.\nThen the princess played again, and stopped till the sea-maiden put\nhim up to the waist. Then the princess played and stopped again, and\nthis time the sea-maiden put him all out of the loch, and he called on\nthe falcon and became one, and flew on shore. But the sea-maiden took\nthe princess, his wife.\n\nSorrowful was each one that was in the town on this night. Her man was\nmournful, tearful, wandering down and up about the banks of the loch,\nby day and night. The old soothsayer met him. The soothsayer told him\nthat there was no way of killing the sea-maiden but the one way, and\nthis is it: \"In the island that is in the midst of the loch is the\nwhite-footed hind of the slenderest legs and the swiftest step, and\nthough she be caught, there will spring a hoodie out of her, and\nthough the hoodie should be caught, there will spring a trout out of\nher, but there is an egg in the mouth of the trout, and the soul of\nthe sea-maiden is in the egg and if the egg breaks she is dead.\"\n\nNow, there was no way of getting to this island, for the sea-maiden\nwould sink each boat and raft that would go on the loch. He thought he\nwould try to leap the strait with the black horse, and even so he did.\nThe black horse leaped the strait. He saw the hind; and he let the\nblack dog after her, but when he was on one side of the island, the\nhind would be on the other side. \"Oh! would the black dog of the\ncarcass of flesh were here!\" No sooner spoke he the word than the\ngrateful dog was at his side; and after the hind he went, and they\nwere not long in bringing her to earth. But he no sooner caught her\nthan a hoodie sprang out of her. \"Would that the falcon grey, of\nsharpest eye and swiftest wing, were here!\" No sooner said he this\nthan the falcon was after the hoodie, and she was not long putting her\nto earth; and as the hoodie fell on the bank of the loch, out of her\njumps the trout. \"Oh! that thou wert by me now, O otter!\" No sooner\nsaid than the otter was at his side, and out on the loch she leaped,\nand brings the trout from the midst of the loch; but no sooner was the\notter on shore with the trout than the egg came from his mouth. He\nsprang and he put his foot on it. 'T was then that the sea-maiden\nappeared, and she said, \"Break not the egg, and you shall get all you\nask.\" \"Deliver to me my wife!\" In the wink of an eye she was by his\nside. When he got hold of her hand in both his hands, he let his foot\ndown on the egg, and the sea-maiden died.\n\n\n\n\n_The Enchanted Waterfall_\n\n\nOnce upon a time, there lived alone with his father and mother a\nsimple young wood-cutter. He worked all day on the lonely hillside, or\namong the shady trees of the forest. But, work as hard as he might, he\nwas still very poor, and could bring home but little money to his old\nfather and mother. This grieved him very much, for he was an\naffectionate and dutiful son.\n\nFor himself he had but few wants and was easily pleased. His mother,\ntoo, was always cheerful and contented. The old father, however, was\nof a selfish disposition, and often grumbled at the poor supper of\nrice, washed down with weak tea, or, if times were very bad, with a\ncup of hot water.\n\n\"If we had but a little sake, now,\" he would say, \"it would warm one\nup, and do one's heart good.\" And then he would reproach the simple\nyoung fellow, vowing that in his young days he had always been able to\nafford a cup of sake for himself and his friends.\n\nGrieved at heart, the young man would work harder than ever and think\nto himself: \"How shall I earn some more money? How shall I get a\nlittle sake for my poor father, who really needs it in his weakness\nand old age?\"\n\nHe was thinking in this way to himself one day as he was at work on\nthe wooded hills, when the sound of rushing water caught his ear. He\nhad often worked in the same spot before, and could not remember that\nthere was any torrent or waterfall near. So, feeling rather surprised,\nhe followed the sound, which got louder and louder until at last he\ncame upon a beautiful little cascade.\n\nThe water looked so clear and cool that he stooped down where it was\nflowing away in a quiet stream, and, using his hand as a cup, drank a\nlittle of it. What was his amazement to find that instead of water it\nwas the most excellent sake!\n\nOverjoyed at this discovery, he quickly filled the gourd which was\nhanging at his girdle, and made the best of his way home, rejoicing\nthat now at last he had something good to bring back to his poor old\nfather. The old man was so delighted with the sake that he drank cup\nafter cup. A neighbour happened to drop in, the story was told to him,\nand a cup of sake offered and drunk with many words of astonishment\nand gratitude.\n\nSoon the news spread through the village, and before night there was\nhardly a man in the place who had not paid his visit of curiosity,\nbeen told the tale of the magic fountain, and smelt the gourd, which,\nalas! was now empty.\n\nNext morning the young wood-cutter set off to work earlier even than\nusual, not forgetting to carry with him a large gourd, for of course\nthe enchanted waterfall was to be visited again.\n\nWhat was the surprise of the young man when he came to the spot, to\nfind several of his neighbours already there, and all armed with\nbuckets, jars, pitchers, anything that would carry a good supply of\nthe coveted sake. Each man had come secretly, believing that he alone\nhad found his way to the magic waterfall.\n\nThe young wood-cutter was amused to see the looks of disappointment\nand anger upon the faces of those who already stood near the water, as\nthey saw fresh arrivals every moment. Each one looked abashed and\nuncomfortable in the presence of his neighbours; but, at last, one\nbolder than the others broke the grim silence with a laugh, which soon\nthe others were fain to join in.\n\n\"Here we are,\" said he, \"all bent on the same errand. Let us fill our\njars and gourds and go home. But first--just one taste of the magic\nsake.\" He stooped down and, filling his gourd, put it to his lips.\nOnce and yet again did he drink, with a face of astonishment which\nsoon gave place to anger.\n\n\"Water!\" he shouted in a rage; \"nothing but cold water! We have been\ntricked and deceived by a parcel of made-up stories--where is that\nyoung fellow? Let us duck him in his fine waterfall!\"\n\nBut the young man had been wise enough to slip behind a big rock when\nhe saw the turn things were taking, and was nowhere to be found.\n\nFirst one and then another tasted of the stream. It was but too true;\nno sake, but clear, cold water was there. Crestfallen and out of\ntemper, the covetous band returned to their homes.\n\nWhen they were fairly gone the good young wood-cutter crept from his\nhiding-place. \"Could this be true,\" he thought, \"or was it all a\ndream? At any rate,\" said he, \"I must taste once more for myself.\" He\nfilled the gourd and drank. Sure enough, there was the same\nfine-flavoured sake he had tasted yesterday. And so it remained. To\nthe good, dutiful son the cascade flowed with the finest sake, while\nto all others it yielded only cold water.\n\nThe emperor, hearing this wonderful story, sent for the good young\nwood-cutter, rewarded him for his kindness to his father, and even\nchanged the name of the year in his honour as an encouragement to\nchildren in all future time to honour and obey their parents.\n\n\n\n\n_The Amadan of the Dough_\n\n\nThere was a king, once on a time, that had a son that was an\nAmadan.[7] The Amadan's mother died, and the king married again.\n\n[Footnote 7: Simpleton.]\n\nThe Amadan's stepmother was always afraid of his beating her children,\nhe was growing so big and strong. So to keep him from growing and to\nweaken him, she had him fed on dough made of raw meal and water, and\nfor that he was called \"The Amadan of the Dough.\" But instead of\ngetting weaker, it was getting stronger the Amadan was on this fare,\nand he was able to thrash all of his stepbrothers together.\n\nAt length his stepmother told his father that he would have to drive\nthe Amadan away. The father consented to put him away; but the Amadan\nrefused to go till his father would give him a sword so sharp that it\nwould cut a pack of wool falling on it.\n\nAfter a great deal of time and trouble the father got such a sword and\ngave it to the Amadan; and when the Amadan had tried it and found it\nwhat he wanted, he bade them all good-bye and set off.\n\nFor seven days and seven nights he travelled away before him without\nmeeting anything wonderful, but on the seventh night he came up to a\ngreat castle. He went in and found no one there, but he found a great\ndinner spread on the table in the hall. So to be making the most of\nhis time, down the Amadan sat at the table and whacked away.\n\nWhen he had finished with his dinner, up to the castle came three\nyoung princes, stout, strong, able fellows, but very, very tired, and\nbleeding from wounds all over them.\n\nThey struck the castle with a flint, and all at once the whole castle\nshone as if it were on fire.\n\nThe Amadan sprang at the three of them to kill them. He said, \"What\ndo you mean by putting the castle on fire?\"\n\n\"O Amadan!\" they said, \"don't interfere with us, for we are nearly\nkilled as it is. The castle isn't on fire. Every day we have to go out\nto fight three giants--Slat Mor, Slat Marr, and Slat Beag. We fight\nthem all day long, and just as night is falling we have them killed.\nBut however it comes, in the night they always come to life again, and\nif they didn't see this castle lit up, they'd come in on top of us and\nmurder us while we slept. So every night when we come back from the\nfight, we light up the castle. Then we can sleep in peace until\nmorning, and in the morning go off and fight the giants again.\"\n\nWhen the Amadan heard this, he wondered; and he said he would like\nvery much to help them kill the giants. They said they would be very\nglad to have such a fine fellow's help; and so it was agreed that the\nAmadan should go with them to the fight next day.\n\nThen the three princes washed themselves and took their supper, and\nthey and the Amadan went to bed.\n\nIn the morning all four of them set off, and travelled to the Glen of\nthe Echoes, where they met the three giants.\n\n\"Now,\" says the Amadan, \"if you three will engage the two smaller\ngiants, Slat Marr and Slat Beag, I'll engage Slat Mor myself and kill\nhim.\"\n\nThey agreed to this.\n\nNow the smallest of the giants was far bigger and more terrible than\nanything ever the Amadan had seen or heard of in his life before, so\nyou can fancy what Slat Mor must have been like.\n\nBut the Amadan was little concerned at this. He went to meet Slat Mor,\nand the two of them fell to the fight, and a great, great fight they\nhad. They made the hard ground into soft, and the soft into spring\nwells; they made the rocks into pebbles, and the pebbles into gravel,\nand the gravel fell over the country like hailstones. All the birds of\nthe air from the lower end of the world to the upper end of the\nworld, and all the wild beasts and tame from the four ends of the\nearth, came flocking to see the fight; and in the end the Amadan ran\nSlat Mor through with his sword and laid him down dead.\n\nThen he turned to help the three princes, and very soon he laid the\nother two giants down dead for them also.\n\nThen the three princes said they would all go home. The Amadan told\nthem to go, but warned them not to light up the castle this night, and\nsaid he would sit by the giants' corpses and watch if they came to\nlife again.\n\nThe three princes begged of him not to do this, for the three giants\nwould come to life, and then he, having no help, would be killed.\n\nThe Amadan was angry with them, and ordered them off instantly. Then\nhe sat down by the giants' corpses to watch. But he was so tired from\nhis great day's fighting that by and by he fell asleep.\n\nAbout twelve o'clock at night, when the Amadan was sleeping soundly,\nup comes a _cailliach_ [old hag] and four _badachs_ [unwieldy big\nfellows], and the cailliach carried with her a feather and a bottle of\n_iocshlainte_ [ointment of health], with which she began to rub the\ngiants' wounds.\n\nTwo of the giants were already alive when the Amadan awoke, and the\nthird was just opening his eyes. Up sprang the Amadan, and at him\nleaped they all--Slat Mor, Slat Marr, Slat Beag, the cailliach, and\nthe four badachs.\n\nIf the Amadan had had a hard fight during the day, this one was surely\nten times harder. But a brave and a bold fellow he was, and not to be\ndaunted by numbers of showers of blows. They fought for long and long.\nThey made the hard ground into soft, and the soft into spring wells;\nthey made the rocks into pebbles, and the pebbles into gravel, and the\ngravel fell over the country like hailstones. All the birds of the air\nfrom the lower end of the world to the upper end of of the world, and\nall the wild beasts and tame from the four ends of the earth, came\nflocking to see the fight; and one after the other of them the Amadan\nran his sword through, until he had every man of them stretched on the\nground, dying or dead.\n\nAnd when the old cailliach was dying, she called the Amadan to her and\nput him under _geasa_ [an obligation that he could not shirk] to lose\nthe power of his feet, of his strength, of his sight, and of his\nmemory, if he did not go to meet and fight the Black Bull of the Brown\nWood.\n\nWhen the old hag died outright, the Amadan rubbed some of the\niocshlainte to his wounds with the feather, and at once he was as hale\nand as fresh as when the fight began. Then he took the feather and the\nbottle of iocshlainte, buckled on his sword, and started away before\nhim to fulfil his geasa.\n\nHe travelled for the length of that lee-long day, and when night was\nfalling, he came to a little hut on the edge of a wood; and the hut\nhad no shelter inside or out but one feather over it, and there was a\nrough, red woman standing in the door.\n\n\"You're welcome!\" says she, \"Amadan of the Dough, the king of\nIreland's son. What have you been doing and where are you going?\"\n\n\"Last night,\" says the Amadan, \"I fought a great fight, and killed\nSlat Mor, Slat Marr, Slat Beag, the Cailliach of the Rocks, and four\nbadachs. Now I'm under geasa to meet and to fight the Black Bull of\nthe Brown Wood. Can you tell me where to find him?\"\n\n\"I can that,\" says she, \"but it's now night. Come in and eat and\nsleep.\"\n\nSo she spread for the Amadan a fine supper, and made a soft bed, and\nhe ate heartily and slept heartily that night.\n\nIn the morning she called him early, and she directed him on his way\nto meet the Black Bull of the Brown Wood. \"But, my poor Amadan,\" she\nsaid, \"no one has ever yet met that bull and come back alive.\"\n\nShe told him that when he reached the place of meeting, the bull would\ncome tearing down the hill like a hurricane.\n\n\"Here's a cloak,\" says she, \"to throw upon the rock that is standing\nthere. You hide yourself behind the rock, and when the bull comes\ntearing down, he will dash at the cloak, and blind himself with the\ncrash against the rock. Then you jump on the bull's back and fight for\nlife. If, after the fight, you are living, come back and see me; and\nif you are dead, I'll go and see you.\"\n\nThe Amadan took the cloak, thanked her and set off, and travelled on\nand on until he came to the place of meeting.\n\nWhen the Amadan came there, he saw the Bull of the Brown Wood come\ntearing down the hill like a hurricane, and he threw the cloak on the\nrock and hid behind it, and with the fury of his dash against the\ncloak the bull blinded himself, and the roar of his fury split the\nrock.\n\nThe Amadan lost no time jumping on his back, and with his sword began\nhacking and slashing him; but he was no easy bull to conquer, and a\ngreat fight the Amadan had. They made the hard ground into soft, and\nthe soft into spring wells; they made the rocks into pebbles, and the\npebbles into gravel, and the gravel fell over the country like\nhailstones. All the birds of the air from the lower end of the world\nto the upper end of the world, and all the wild beasts and tame from\nthe four ends of the earth, came flocking to see the fight; at length,\nafter a long time, the Amadan ran his sword right through the bull's\nheart, and the bull fell down dead. But before he died he put the\nAmadan under geasa to meet and to fight the White Wether of the Hill\nof the Waterfalls.\n\nThen the Amadan rubbed his own wounds with the iocshlainte, and he was\nas fresh and hale as when he went into the fight. Then he set out and\ntravelled back again to the little hut that had no shelter without or\nwithin, only one feather over it, and the rough, red woman was\nstanding in the door: and she welcomed the Amadan and asked him the\nnews.\n\nHe told her all about the fight, and that the Black Bull of the Woods\nhad put him under geasa to meet and to fight the White Wether of the\nHill of the Waterfalls.\n\n\"I'm sorry for you, my poor Amadan,\" says she, \"for no one ever met\nbefore that White Wether and came back alive. But come in and eat and\nrest, anyhow, for you must be both hungry and sleepy.\"\n\nSo she spread him a hearty meal and made him a soft bed, and the\nAmadan ate and slept heartily; and in the morning she directed him to\nwhere he would meet the White Wether of the Hill of the Waterfalls.\nAnd she told him that no steel was tougher than the hide of the White\nWether, that a sword was never yet made that could go through it, and\nthat there was only one place--a little white spot just over the\nwether's heart--where he could be killed or sword could cut through.\nAnd she told the Amadan that his only chance was to hit this spot.\n\nThe Amadan thanked her, and set out. He travelled away and away before\nhim until he came to the Hill of the Waterfalls, and as soon as he\nreached it he saw the White Wether coming tearing toward him in a\nfurious rage, and the earth he was throwing up with his horns was\nshutting out the sun.\n\nAnd when the wether came up and asked the Amadan what great feats he\nhad done that made him impudent enough to dare to come there, the\nAmadan said: \"With this sword I have killed Slat Mor, Slatt Marr,\nSlatt Beag, the Cailliach of the Rocks and her four badachs, and\nlikewise the Black Bull of the Brown Wood.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said the White Wether, \"you'll never kill any other.\" And at\nthe Amadan he sprang.\n\nThe Amadan struck at him with his sword, and the sword glanced off as\nit might off steel. Both of them fell to the fight with all their\nhearts, and such a fight never was before or since. They made the hard\nground into soft, and the soft into spring wells; they made the rocks\ninto pebbles, and the pebbles into gravel, and the gravel fell over\nthe country like hailstones. All the birds of the air from the lower\nend of the world to the upper end of the world, and all the wild\nbeasts and tame from the four ends of the earth, came flocking to see\nthe fight. But at length and at last, after a long and terrible fight,\nthe Amadan, seeing the little spot above the heart that the red woman\nhad told him of, struck for it and hit it, and drove his sword through\nthe White Wether's heart, and he fell down. And when he was dying, he\ncalled the Amadan and put him under a geasa to meet and fight the\nBeggarman of the King of Sweden.\n\nThe Amadan took out his bottle of iocshlainte and rubbed himself with\nthe iocshlainte, and he was as fresh and hale as when he began the\nfight. Then he set out again, and when night was falling, he reached\nthe hut that had no shelter within or without, only one feather over\nit, and the rough, red woman was standing in the door.\n\nRight glad she was to see the Amadan coming back alive, and she\nwelcomed him heartily and asked him the news.\n\nHe told her of the wonderful fight he had had, and that he was now\nunder geasa to meet and fight the Beggarman of the King of Sweden.\n\nShe made him come in and eat and sleep, for he was tired and hungry.\nAnd heartily the Amadan ate and heartily he slept; and in the morning\nshe called him early, and directed him on his way to meet the\nBeggarman of the King of Sweden.\n\nShe told him that when he reached a certain hill, the beggarman would\ncome down from the sky in a cloud; and that he would see the whole\nworld between the beggarman's legs and nothing above his head. \"If\never he finds himself beaten,\" she said, \"he goes up into the sky in a\nmist and stays there to refresh himself. You may let him go up once;\nbut if you let him go up the second time, he will surely kill you when\nhe comes down. Remember that. If you are alive when the fight is over,\ncome to see me. If you are dead, I will go to see you.\"\n\nThe Amadan thanked her, parted with her, and travelled away and away\nbefore him until he reached the hill which she had told him of. And\nwhen he came there, he saw a great cloud that shot out of the sky,\ndescending on the hill, and when it came down on the hill and melted\naway, there it left the Beggarman of the King of Sweden standing, and\nbetween his legs the Amadan saw the whole world and nothing over his\nhead.\n\nAnd with a roar and a run the beggarman made for the Amadan, and the\nroar of him rattled the stars in the sky. He asked the Amadan who he\nwas, and what he had done to have the impudence to come there and meet\nhim.\n\nThe Amadan said: \"They call me the Amadan of the Dough, and I have\nkilled Slat Mor, Slat Marr, Slat Beag, the Cailliach of the Rocks and\nher four badachs, the Black Bull of the Brown Wood, and the White\nWether of the Hill of the Waterfalls, and before night I'll have\nkilled the Beggarman of the King of Sweden.\"\n\n\"That you never will, you miserable object,\" says the beggarman.\n\"You're going to die now, and I'll give you your choice to die either\nby a hard squeeze of wrestling, or a stroke of the sword.\"\n\n\"Well,\" says the Amadan, \"if I have to die, I'd sooner die by a stroke\nof the sword.\"\n\n\"All right,\" says the beggarman, and drew his sword.\n\nBut the Amadan drew his sword at the same time, and both went at it.\nAnd if his fights before had been hard, this one was harder and\ngreater and more terrible than the others put together. They made the\nhard ground into soft, and the soft into spring wells; they made the\nrocks into pebbles, and the pebbles into gravel, and the gravel fell\nover the country like hailstones. All the birds of the air from the\nlower end of the world to the upper end of the world, and all the wild\nbeasts and tame from the four ends of the earth, came flocking to see\nthe fight. And at length the fight was putting so hard upon the\nbeggarman, and he was getting so weak, that he whistled, and the mist\ncame around him, and he went up into the sky before the Amadan knew.\nHe remained there until he refreshed himself, and then came down\nagain, and at it again he went for the Amadan, and fought harder and\nharder than before, and again it was putting too hard upon him, and he\nwhistled as before for the mist to come down and take him up.\n\nBut the Amadan remembered what the red woman had warned him; he gave\none leap into the air, and coming down, drove his sword through the\nbeggarman's heart, and the beggarman fell dead. But before he died he\nput geasa on the Amadan to meet and fight the Silver Cat of the Seven\nGlens.\n\nThe Amadan rubbed his wounds with the iocshlainte, and he was as fresh\nand hale as when he began the fight; and then he set out, and when\nnight was falling, he reached the hut that had no shelter within or\nwithout, only one feather over it, and the rough, red woman was\nstanding in the door.\n\nRight glad she was to see the Amadan coming back alive, and she\nwelcomed him right heartily, and asked him the news.\n\nHe told her that he had killed the beggarman, and said he was now\nunder geasa to meet and fight the Silver Cat of the Seven Glens.\n\n\"Well,\" she said, \"I'm sorry for you, for no one ever before went to\nmeet the Silver Cat and came back alive. But,\" she says, \"you're both\ntired and hungry; come in and rest and sleep.\"\n\nSo in the Amadan went, and had a hearty supper and a soft bed; and in\nthe morning she called him up early, and she gave him directions where\nto meet the cat and how to find it, and she told him there was only\none vital spot on that cat, and it was a black speck on the bottom of\nthe cat's stomach, and unless he could happen to run his sword right\nthrough this, the cat would surely kill him. She said:\n\n\"My poor Amadan, I'm very much afraid you'll not come back alive. I\ncannot go to help you myself, or I would; but there is a well in my\ngarden, and by watching that well I will know how the fight goes with\nyou. While there is honey on top of the well, I will know you are\ngetting the better of the cat; but if the blood comes on top, then the\ncat is getting the better of you; and if the blood stays there, I will\nknow, my poor Amadan, that you are dead.\"\n\nThe Amadan bade her good-bye, and set out to travel to where the Seven\nGlens met at the sea. Here there was a precipice, and under the\nprecipice a cave. In this cave the Silver Cat lived, and once a day\nshe came out to sun herself on the rocks.\n\nThe Amadan let himself down over the precipice by a rope, and he\nwaited until the cat came out to sun herself.\n\nWhen the cat came out at twelve o'clock and saw the Amadan, she let a\nroar out of her that drove the waters back of the sea and piled them\nup a quarter of a mile high, and she asked him who he was and how he\nhad the impudence to come there to meet her.\n\nThe Amadan said: \"They call me the Amadan of the Dough, and I have\nkilled Slat Mor, Slat Man, Slat Beag, the Cailliach of the Rocks and\nher four badachs, the Black Bull of the Brown Woods, the White Wether\nof the Hill of the Waterfalls, and the Beggarman of the King of\nSweden, and before night I will have killed the Silver Cat of the\nSeven Glens.\"\n\n\"That you never will,\" says she, \"for a dead man you will be\nyourself.\" And at him she sprang.\n\nBut the Amadan raised his sword and struck at her, and both of them\nfell to the fight, and a great, great fight they had. They made the\nhard ground into soft, and the soft into spring wells; they made the\nrocks into pebbles, and the pebbles into gravel, and the gravel fell\nover the country like hailstones. All the birds of the air from the\nlower end of the world to the upper end of the world, and all the wild\nbeasts and tame from the four ends of the earth, came flocking to see\nthe fight; and if the fights that the Amadan had had on the other days\nwere great and terrible, this one was far greater and far more\nterrible than all the others put together, and the poor Amadan sorely\nfeared that before night fell he would be a dead man.\n\nThe red woman was watching at the well in her garden, and she was\nsorely distressed, for though at one time the honey was uppermost, at\nanother time it was all blood, and again the blood and the honey would\nbe mixed; so she felt bad for the poor Amadan.\n\nAt length the blood and the honey got mixed again, and it remained\nthat way until night; so she cried, for she believed the Amadan\nhimself was dead, as well as the Silver Cat.\n\nAnd so he was. For when the fight had gone on for long and long, the\ncat, with a great long nail which she had in the end of her tail, tore\nhim open from his mouth to his toes; and as she tore the Amadan open\nand he was about to fall, she opened her mouth so wide that the Amadan\nsaw down to the very bottom of her stomach, and there he saw the black\nspeck that the red woman had told him of. And just before he dropped\nhe drove his sword through this spot, and the Silver Cat, too, fell\nover dead.\n\nIt was not long now till the red woman arrived at the place and found\nboth the Amadan and the cat lying side by side, dead. At this the poor\nwoman was frantic with sorrow, but suddenly she saw by the Amadan's\nside the bottle of iocshlainte and the feather. She took them up and\nrubbed the Amadan with the iocshlainte, and he jumped to his feet,\nalive and well, and fresh as when he began the fight.\n\nHe smothered her with kisses and drowned her with tears. He took the\nred woman with him, and set out on his journey back, and travelled and\ntravelled on and on till he came to the Castle of Fire.\n\nHere he met the three young princes, who were now living happily with\nno giants to molest them. They had one sister, the most beautiful\nyoung maiden that the Amadan had ever beheld. They gave her to the\nAmadan in marriage, and gave her half of all they owned for fortune.\n\nThe marriage lasted nine days and nine nights. There were nine hundred\nfiddlers, nine hundred fluters, and nine hundred pipers, and the last\nday and night of the wedding were better than the first.\n\n\n\n\n_The Rakshas's Palace_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a Rajah who was left a widower with two\nlittle daughters. Not very long after his first wife died he married\nagain, and his second wife did not care for her stepchildren, and was\noften unkind to them; and the Rajah, their father, never troubled\nhimself to look after them, but allowed his wife to treat them as she\nliked. This made the poor girls very miserable, and one day one of\nthem said to the other, \"Don't let us remain any longer here; come\naway into the jungle, for nobody here cares whether we go or stay.\" So\nthey both walked off into the jungle, and lived for many days on the\njungle fruits. At last, after they had wandered on for a long while,\nthey came to a fine palace which belonged to a Rakshas, but both the\nRakshas and his wife were out when they got there. Then one of the\nPrincesses said to the other, \"This fine palace, in the midst of the\njungle, can belong to no one but a Rakshas, but the owner has\nevidently gone out; let us go in and see if we can find anything to\neat.\" So they went into the Rakshas's house, and finding some rice,\nboiled, and ate it. Then they swept the room and arranged all the\nfurniture in the house tidily. But hardly had they finished doing so\nwhen the Rakshas and his wife returned home. Then the two Princesses\nwere so frightened that they ran up to the top of the house and hid\nthemselves on the flat roof, from whence they could look down on one\nside into the inner courtyard of the house, and from the other could\nsee the open country. The house-top was a favourite resort of the\nRakshas and his wife. Here they would sit upon the hot summer\nevenings; here they winnowed the grain and hung out the clothes to\ndry; and the two Princesses found a sufficient shelter behind some\nsheaves of corn that were waiting to be threshed. When the Rakshas\ncame into the house, he looked round and said to his wife, \"Somebody\nhas been arranging the house; everything in it is so clean and tidy.\nWife, did you do this?\" \"No,\" she said; \"I don't know who can have\ndone all this.\" \"Someone also has been sweeping the courtyard,\"\ncontinued the Rakshas. \"Wife, did you sweep the courtyard?\" \"No,\" she\nanswered; \"I did not do it. I don't know who did.\" Then the Rakshas\nwalked round and round several times with his nose up in the air,\nsaying, \"Someone is here now. I smell flesh and blood! Where can they\nbe?\" \"Stuff and nonsense!\" cried his wife; \"you smell blood indeed!\nWhy, you have just been killing and eating a hundred thousand people.\nI should wonder if you didn't still smell flesh and blood!\" They went\non quarrelling thus until the Rakshas said, \"Well, never mind; I don't\nknow how it is, but I'm very thirsty; let's come and drink some\nwater.\" So both the Rakshas and his wife went to a well which was\nclose to the house, and began letting down jars into it, and drawing\nup the water and drinking it. And the Princesses, who were on the top\nof the house, saw them. Now the youngest of the two Princesses was a\nvery wise girl, and when she saw the Rakshas and his wife by the well,\nshe said to her sister, \"I will do something now that will be good for\nus both\"; and, running down quickly from the top of the house, she\ncrept close behind the Rakshas and his wife as they stood on tip-toe\nmore than half over the side of the well, and, catching hold of one of\nthe Rakshas's heels and one of his wife's, gave each a little push,\nand down they both tumbled into the well and were drowned--the Rakshas\nand the Rakshas's wife! The Princess then returned to her sister and\nsaid, \"I have killed the Rakshas.\" \"What! both?\" cried her sister.\n\"Yes, both,\" she said. \"Won't they come back?\" said her sister. \"No,\nnever,\" answered she.\n\nThe Rakshas being thus killed, the two Princesses took possession of\nthe house, and lived there very happily for a long time. In it they\nfound heaps and heaps of rich clothes and jewels, and gold and silver,\nwhich the Rakshas had taken from people he had murdered; and all\nround the house were folds for the flocks and sheds for the herds of\ncattle which the Rakshas owned. Every morning the youngest Princess\nused to drive out the flocks and herds to pasturage, and return home\nwith them every night, while the eldest stayed at home, cooked the\ndinner and kept the house; and the youngest Princess, who was the\ncleverest, would often say to her sister, on going away for the day,\n\"Take care, if you see any stranger (be it man, woman or child) come\nby the house, to hide, if possible, that nobody may know of our living\nhere; and if anyone should call out and ask for a drink of water, or\nany poor beggar pray for food, before you give it to him be sure you\nput on ragged clothes and cover your face with charcoal, and make\nyourself look as ugly as possible, lest, seeing how fair you are, he\nshould steal you away, and we never meet again.\" \"Very well,\" the\nother Princess would answer, \"I will do as you advise.\"\n\nBut a long time passed, and no one ever came by that way. At last one\nday, after the youngest Princess had gone out, a young Prince, the son\nof a neighbouring Rajah, who had been hunting with his attendants for\nmany days in the jungles, came near the place, for he and his people\nwere tired with hunting, and had been seeking all through the jungle\nfor a stream of water, but could find none. When the Prince saw the\nfine palace standing by itself, he was very much astonished, and said,\n\"It is a strange thing that any one should have built such a house as\nthis in the depths of the forest. Let us go in; the owners will\ndoubtless give us a drink of water.\" \"No, no, do not go,\" cried his\nattendants; \"this is most likely the house of a Rakshas.\" \"We can but\nsee,\" answered the Prince. \"I should scarcely think anything very\nterrible lived here, for there is not a sound stirring nor a living\ncreature to be seen.\" So he began tapping at the door, which was\nbolted, and crying, \"Will whoever owns this house give me and my\npeople some water to drink, for the sake of kind charity?\" But nobody\nanswered, for the Princess, who heard him, was busy up in her room,\nblacking her face with charcoal and covering her rich dress with\nrags. Then the Prince got impatient and shook the door angrily,\nsaying, \"Let me in, whoever you are! If you don't, I'll force the door\nopen.\" At this the poor little Princess got dreadfully frightened; and\nhaving blacked her face and made herself look as ugly as possible, she\nran downstairs with a pitcher of water, and unbolting the door, gave\nthe Prince the pitcher to drink from; but she did not speak, for she\nwas afraid. Now, the Prince was a very clever man, and as he raised\nthe pitcher to his mouth to drink the water, he thought to himself,\n\"This is a very strange-looking creature who has brought me this jug\nof water. She would be pretty, but that her face seems to want\nwashing, and her dress also is very untidy. What can that black stuff\nbe on her face and hands? It looks very unnatural.\" And so thinking to\nhimself, instead of drinking the water, he threw it in the Princess's\nface! The Princess started back with a little cry, while the water,\ntrickling down, washed off the charcoal, and showed her delicate\nfeatures and beautiful, fair complexion. The Prince caught hold of her\nhand, and said, \"Now, tell me true, who are you? where do you come\nfrom? Who are your father and mother? and why are you here alone by\nyourself in the jungle? Answer me, or I'll cut your head off.\" And he\nmade as if he would draw his sword. The Princess was so terrified she\ncould hardly speak, but as best she could she told how she was the\ndaughter of a Rajah, and had run away into the jungle because of her\ncruel stepmother, and, finding the house, had lived there ever since;\nand having finished her story, she began to cry. Then the Prince said\nto her, \"Pretty lady, forgive me for my roughness; do not fear. I will\ntake you home with me, and you shall be my wife.\" But the more he\nspoke to her the more frightened she got, so frightened that she did\nnot understand what he said, and could do nothing but cry. Now she had\nsaid nothing to the Prince about her sister, nor even told him that\nshe had one, for she thought, \"This man says he will kill me; if he\nhears that I have a sister, he will kill her, too.\" So the Prince, who\nwas really kind-hearted, and would never have thought of separating\nthe two little sisters who had been together so long, knew nothing at\nall of the matter, and only seeing she was too much alarmed even to\nunderstand gentle words, said to his servants, \"Place this lady in one\nof the palkees, and let us set off home.\" And they did so. When the\nPrincess found herself shut up in the palkee, and being carried she\nknew not where, she thought how terrible it would be for her sister to\nreturn home and find her gone, and determined, if possible, to leave\nsome sign to show her which way she had been taken. Round her neck\nwere many strings of pearls. She untied them, and tearing her saree\ninto little bits, tied one pearl in each piece of the saree, that it\nmight be heavy enough to fall straight to the ground; and so she went\non, dropping one pearl and then another and another and another, all\nthe way she went along, until they reached the palace where the Rajah\nand Ranee, the Prince's father and mother lived. She threw the last\nremaining pearl down just as she reached the palace gate. The old\nRajah and Ranee were delighted to see the beautiful Princess their son\nhad brought home; and when they heard her tale they said, \"Ah, poor\nthing! what a sad story! but now she has come to live with us, we will\ndo all we can to make her happy.\" And they married her to their son\nwith great pomp and ceremony, and gave her rich dresses and jewels,\nand were very kind to her. But the Princess remained sad and unhappy,\nfor she was always thinking about her sister, and yet she could not\nsummon courage to beg the Prince or his father to send and fetch her\nto the palace.\n\nMeantime, the younger Princess, who had been out with her flocks and\nherds when the Prince took her sister away, had returned home. When\nshe came back she found the door wide open and no one standing there.\nShe thought it very odd, for her sister always came every night to the\ndoor to meet her on her return. She went upstairs; her sister was not\nthere; the whole house was empty and deserted. There she must stay all\nalone, for the evening had closed in, and it was impossible to go\noutside and seek her with any hope of success. So all the night long\nshe waited, crying, \"Someone has been here, and they have stolen her\naway; they have stolen my darling away! Oh, sister! sister!\" Next\nmorning, very early, going out to continue the search, she found one\nof the pearls belonging to her sister's necklace tied up in a small\npiece of saree; a little farther on lay another, and yet another, all\nalong the road the Prince had gone. Then the Princess understood that\nher sister had left this clue to guide her on her way, and she at once\nset off to find her again. Very, very far she went--a six months'\njourney through the jungle, for she could not travel fast, the many\ndays' walking tired her so much--and sometimes it took her two or\nthree days to find the next piece of saree with the pearl. At last she\ncame near a large town, to which it was evident her sister had been\ntaken. Now, this young Princess was very beautiful indeed--as\nbeautiful as she was wise--and when she got near the town she thought\nto herself, \"If people see me, they may steal me away, as they did my\nsister, and then I shall never find her again. I will therefore\ndisguise myself.\" As she was thus thinking she saw by the side of the\nroad the corpse of a poor old beggar woman, who had evidently died\nfrom want and poverty. The body was shrivelled up, and nothing of it\nremained but the skin and bones. The Princess took the skin and washed\nit, and drew it on over her own lovely face and neck, as one draws a\nglove on one's hand. Then she took a long stick and began hobbling\nalong, leaning on it, toward the town. The old woman's skin was all\ncrumpled and withered, and people who passed by only thought, \"What an\nugly old woman!\" and never dreamed of the false skin and the beautiful\ngirl inside. So on she went, picking up the pearls--one here, one\nthere--until she found the last pearl just in front of the palace\ngate. Then she felt certain her sister must be somewhere near, but\nwhere she did not know. She longed to go into the palace and ask for\nher, but no guards would have let such a wretched-looking old woman\nenter, and she did not dare offer them any of the pearls she had with\nher, lest they should think she was a thief. So she determined merely\nto remain as close to the palace as possible, and wait till fortune\nfavoured her with the means of learning something further about her\nsister. Just opposite the palace was a small house belonging to a\nfarmer, and the Princess went up to it and stood by the door. The\nfarmer's wife saw her and said, \"Poor old woman, who are you? What do\nyou want? Why are you here? Have you no friends?\" \"Alas, no!\" answered\nthe Princess. \"I am a poor old woman, and have neither father nor\nmother, son nor daughter, sister nor brother, to take care of me; all\nare gone, and I can only beg my bread from door to door.\"\n\n\"Do not grieve, good mother,\" answered the farmer's wife, kindly. \"You\nmay sleep in the shelter of our porch, and I will give you some food.\"\nSo the Princess stayed there for that night and for many more; and\nevery day the good farmer's wife gave her food. But all this time she\ncould learn nothing of her sister.\n\nNow there was a large tank near the palace, on which grew some fine\nlotus plants, covered with rich crimson lotuses--the royal flower--and\nof these the Rajah was very fond indeed, and prized them very much. To\nthis tank (because it was the nearest to the farmer's house) the\nPrincess used to go every morning, very early, almost before it was\nlight, at about three o'clock, and take off the old woman's skin and\nwash it, and hang it out to dry, and wash her face and hands, and\nbathe her feet in the cool water, and comb her beautiful hair. Then\nshe would gather a lotus flower (such as she had been accustomed to\nwear in her hair from a child) and put it on, so as to feel for a few\nminutes like herself again! Thus she would amuse herself. Afterward,\nas soon as the wind had dried the old woman's skin, she put it on\nagain, threw away the lotus flower, and hobbled back to the farmer's\ndoor before the sun was up.\n\nAfter a time the Rajah discovered that someone had plucked some of his\nfavourite lotus flowers. People were set to watch, and all the wise\nmen in the kingdom put their heads together to try to discover the\nthief, but without avail. At last, the excitement about this matter\nbeing very great, the Rajah's second son, a brave and noble young\nprince (brother to him who had found the eldest Princess in the\nforest) said, \"I will certainly discover this thief.\" It chanced that\nseveral fine trees grew around the tank. Into one of these the young\nPrince climbed one evening (having made a sort of light thatched roof\nacross two of the boughs, to keep off the heavy dews), and there he\nwatched all the night through, but with no more success than his\npredecessors. There lay the lotus plants, still in the moonlight,\nwithout so much as a thieving wind coming to break off one of the\nflowers. The Prince began to get very sleepy, and thought the\ndelinquent, whoever he might be, could not intend to return, when, in\nthe very early morning, before it was light, who should come down to\nthe tank but an old woman he had often seen near the palace gate?\n\"Aha!\" thought the Prince, \"this, then, is the thief; but what can\nthis queer old woman want with lotus flowers?\" Imagine his\nastonishment when the old woman sat down on the steps of the tank and\nbegan pulling the skin off her face and arms, and from underneath the\nshrivelled yellow skin came the loveliest face he had ever beheld! So\nfair, so fresh, so young, so gloriously beautiful, that, appearing\nthus suddenly, it dazzled the Prince's eyes like a flash of golden\nlightning. \"Ah,\" thought he, \"can this be a woman or a spirit? a devil\nor an angel in disguise?\"\n\nThe Princess twisted up her glossy black hair, and, plucking a red\nlotus, placed it in it, and dabbled her feet in the water, and amused\nherself by putting round her neck a string of pearls that had been her\nsister's necklace. Then, as the sun was rising, she threw away the\nlotus, and covering her face and arms again with the withered skin,\nwent hastily away. When the Prince got home, the first thing he said\nto his parents was, \"Father! mother! I should like to marry that old\nwoman who stands all day at the farmer's gate, just opposite!\" \"What!\"\nthey cried, \"the boy is mad! Marry that skinny old thing! You\ncannot--you are a King's son. Are there not enough Queens and\nPrincesses in the world, that you should wish to marry a wretched old\nbeggar-woman?\" But he answered, \"Above all things I should like to\nmarry that old woman. You know that I have ever been a dutiful and\nobedient son. In this matter, I pray you, grant me my desire.\" Then,\nseeing he was really in earnest about the matter, and that nothing\nthey could say would alter his mind, they listened to his urgent\nentreaties--not, however, without much grief and vexation--and sent\nout the guards, to fetch the old woman (who was really the Princess in\ndisguise) to the palace, where she was to be married to the Prince as\nprivately and with as little ceremony as possible, for the family was\nashamed of the match.\n\nAs soon as the wedding was over, the Prince said to his wife, \"Gentle\nwife, tell me how much longer you intend to wear that old skin? You\nhad better take it off; do be so kind.\" The Princess wondered how he\nknew of her disguise, or whether it was only a guess of his; and she\nthought, \"If I take this ugly skin off, my husband will think me\npretty, and shut me up in the palace and never let me go away, so that\nI shall not be able to find my sister again. No, I had better not take\nit off.\" So she answered, \"I don't know what you mean. I am as all\nthese years have made me; nobody can change his skin.\" Then the Prince\npretended to be very angry, and said, \"Take off that hideous disguise\nthis instant, or I'll kill you.\" But she only bowed her head, saying,\n\"Kill me then, but nobody can change his skin.\" And all this she\nmumbled as if she were a very old woman indeed, and had lost all her\nteeth and could not speak plain. At this the Prince laughed very much\nto himself, and thought, \"I'll wait and see how long this freak\nlasts.\" But the Princess continued to keep on the old woman's skin;\nonly every morning, at about three o'clock, before it was light, she\nwould get up and wash it and put it on again. Then, some time\nafterward, the Prince, having found this out, got up softly one\nmorning early, and followed her to the next room, where she had washed\nthe skin and placed it on the floor to dry, and stealing it, he ran\naway with it and threw it on the fire. So the Princess, having no old\nwoman's skin to put on, was obliged to appear in her own likeness. As\nshe walked forth, very sad at missing her disguise, her husband ran to\nmeet her, smiling and saying, \"How do you do, my dear? Where is your\nskin now? Can't you take it off, dear?\" Soon the whole palace had\nheard the joyful news of the beautiful young wife that the Prince had\nwon; and all the people, when they saw her, cried, \"Why, she is\nexactly like the beautiful Princess our young Rajah married, the\njungle lady.\" The old Rajah and Ranee were prouder than all of their\ndaughter-in-law, and took her to introduce her to their eldest son's\nwife Then no sooner did the Princess enter her sister-in-law's room\nthen she saw that in her she had found her lost sister, and they ran\ninto each other's arms. Great then, was the joy of all, but the\nhappiest of all these happy people were the two Princesses.\n\n\n\n\n_Billy Beg and the Bull_\n\n\nOnce upon a time when pigs were swine, there was a King and Queen, and\nthey had one son, Billy, and the Queen gave Billy a bull that he was\nvery fond of, and it was just as fond of him. After some time the\nQueen died, and she put it as her last request on the King that he\nwould never part Billy and the bull, and the King promised that come\nwhat might, come what may, he would not. After the Queen died the King\nmarried again, and the new Queen didn't take to Billy Beg, and no more\ndid she like the bull, seeing himself and Billy so _thick_. But she\ncouldn't get the King on no account to part Billy and the Bull, so she\nconsulted with a hen-wife what they could do as regards separating\nBilly and the bull. \"What will you give me,\" says the hen-wife, \"and\nI'll very soon part them?\" \"Whatever you ask,\" says the Queen. \"Well\nand good then,\" says the hen-wife; \"you are to take to your bed,\nmaking pretend that you are bad with a complaint, and I'll do the rest\nof it.\" And, well and good, to her bed she took, and none of the\ndoctors could do anything for her, or make out what was her complaint.\nSo the Queen asked for the hen-wife to be sent for. And sent for she\nwas, and when she came in and examined the Queen, she said there was\none thing, and only one, could cure her. The King asked what was that,\nand the hen-wife said it was three mouthfuls of the blood of Billy\nBeg's bull. But the King wouldn't on no account hear of this, and the\nnext day the Queen was worse, and the third day she was worse still,\nand told the King she was dying, and he'd have her death on his head.\nSo, sooner nor this, the King had to consent to Billy Beg's bull being\nkilled. When Billy heard this he got very down in the heart entirely,\nand he went doitherin' about, and the bull saw him, and asked him\nwhat was wrong with him that he was so mournful; so Billy told the\nbull what was wrong with him, and the bull told him to never mind, but\nkeep up his heart, the Queen would never taste a drop of his blood.\nThe next day, then, the bull was to be killed, and the Queen got up\nand went out to have the delight of seeing his death. When the bull\nwas led up to be killed, says he to Billy, \"Jump up on my back till we\nsee what kind of a horseman you are.\" Up Billy jumped on his back, and\nwith that the bull leapt nine mile high, nine mile deep, and nine mile\nbroad, and came down with Billy sticking between his horns. Hundreds\nwere looking on dazed at the sight, and through them the bull rushed,\nand over the top of the Queen, killing her dead, and away he galloped\nwhere you wouldn't know day by night, or night by day, over high\nhills, low hills, sheep-walks, and bullock-traces, the Cove of Cork,\nand old Tom Fox with his bugle horn. When at last they stopped, \"Now\nthen,\" says the bull to Billy, \"you and I must undergo great scenery,\nBilly. Put your hand,\" says the bull, \"in my left ear, and you'll get\na napkin, that, when you spread it out, will be covered with eating\nand drinking of all sorts, fit for the King himself.\" Billy did this,\nand then he spread out the napkin, and ate and drank to his heart's\ncontent, and he rolled up the napkin and put it back in the bull's ear\nagain. \"Then,\" says the bull, \"now put your hand into my right ear and\nyou'll find a bit of a stick; if you wind it over your head three\ntimes, it will be turned into a sword and give you the strength of a\nthousand men besides your own, and when you have no more need of it as\na sword, it will change back into a stick again.\" Billy did all this.\nThen says the bull, \"At twelve o'clock the morrow I'll have to meet\nand fight a great bull.\" Billy then got up again on the bull's back,\nand the bull started off and away where you wouldn't know day by\nnight, or night by day, over low hills, high hills, sheep-walks, and\nbullock-traces, the Cove of Cork, and old Tom Fox with his bugle horn.\nThere he met the other bull, and both of them fought, and the like of\ntheir fight was never seen before or since. They knocked the soft\nground into hard, and the hard into soft; the soft into spring wells,\nthe spring wells into rocks, and the rocks into high hills. They\nfought long, and Billy Beg's bull killed the other, and drank his\nblood. Then Billy took the napkin out of his ear again and spread it\nout and ate a hearty good dinner. Then says the bull to Billy, says\nhe, \"At twelve o'clock to-morrow, I'm to meet the bull's brother that\nI killed the day, and we'll have a hard fight.\" Billy got on the\nbull's back again, and the bull started off and away where you\nwouldn't know day by night, or night by day, over high hills, low\nhills, sheep-walks and bulloch-traces, the Cove of Cork, and old Tom\nFox with his bugle horn. There he met the bull's brother that he\nkilled the day before, and they set to, and they fought, and the like\nof the fight was never seen before or since. They knocked the soft\nground into hard, the hard into soft, the soft into spring wells, the\nspring wells into rocks, and the rocks into high hills. They fought\nlong, and at last Billy's bull killed the other and drank his blood.\nAnd then Billy took out the napkin out of the bull's ear again and\nspread it out and ate another hearty dinner. Then says the bull to\nBilly, says he, \"The morrow at twelve o'clock I'm to fight the brother\nto the two bulls I killed--he's a mighty great bull entirely, the\nstrongest of them all; he's called the Black Bull of the Forest, and\nhe'll be too able for me. When I'm dead!\" says the bull, \"you, Billy,\nwill take with you the napkin, and you'll never be hungry; and the\nstick, and you'll be able to overcome everything that comes in your\nway; and take out your knife and cut a strip of the hide off my back\nand another strip off my belly, and make a belt of them, and as long\nas you wear them you cannot be killed.\" Billy was very sorry to hear\nthis, but he got up on the bull's back again, and they started off and\naway where you wouldn't know day by night or night by day, over high\nhills, low hills, sheep-walks, and bulloch-traces, the Cove of Cork,\nand Old Tom Fox with his bugle horn. And sure enough at twelve o'clock\nthe next day they met the great Black Bull of the Forest and both of\nthe bulls to it, and commenced to fight, and the like of the fight was\nnever seen before or since; they knocked the soft ground into hard\nground, and the hard ground into soft; and the soft into spring wells,\nthe spring wells into rocks, and the rocks into high hills. And they\nfought long, but at length the Black Bull of the Forest killed Billy\nBeg's bull and drank his blood. Billy Beg was so vexed at this that\nfor two days he sat over the bull neither eating nor drinking, but\ncrying salt tears all the time. Then he got up, and he spread out the\nnapkin, and ate a hearty dinner, for he was very hungry with his long\nfast; and after that he cut a strip of the hide off the bull's back\nand another off the belly, and made a belt for himself, and taking it\nand the bit of stick, and the napkin, he set out to push his fortune,\nand he travelled for three days and three nights till at last he came\nto a great gentleman's place, Billy asked the gentleman if he could\ngive him employment, and the gentleman said he wanted just such a boy\nas him for herding cattle. Billy asked what cattle would he have to\nherd, and what wages would he get. The gentleman said he had three\ngoats, three cows, three horses, and three asses that he fed in an\norchard, but that no boy who went with them ever came back alive, for\nthere were three giants, brothers, that came to milk the cows and the\ngoats every day, and killed the boy that was herding; so if Billy\nliked to try, they wouldn't fix the wages till they'd see if he would\ncome back alive.\n\n\"Agreed, then,\" said Billy. So the next morning he got up and drove\nout the three goats, the three cows, the three horses, and the three\nasses to the orchard and commenced to feed them. About the middle of\nthe day Billy heard three terrible roars that shook the apples off the\nbushes, shook the horns on the cows, and made the hair stand up on\nBilly's head, and in comes a frightful big giant with three heads, and\nbegun to threaten Bill. \"You're too big,\" says the giant, \"for one\nbite, and too small for two. What will I do with you?\" \"I'll fight\nyou,\" says Billy, says he, stepping out to him and swinging the bit of\nstick three times over his head, when it changed into a sword and gave\nhim the strength of a thousand men besides his own. The giant laughed\nat the size of him, and says he, \"Well, how will I kill you? Will it\nbe by a swing by the back, a cut of the sword, or a square round of\nboxing?\" \"With a swing by the back,\" says Billy, \"if you can.\" So they\nboth laid holds, and Billy lifted the giant clean off the ground, and\nfetching him down again sunk him in the earth up to his arm-pits. \"Oh,\nhave mercy!\" says the giant. But Billy, taking his sword, killed the\ngiant, and cut out his tongues. It was evening by this time, so Billy\ndrove home the three goats, three cows, three horses, and three asses,\nand all the vessels in the house wasn't able to hold all the milk the\ncows give that night.\n\n\"Well,\" says the gentleman, \"this beats me, for I never saw any one\ncoming back alive out of there before, nor the cows with a drop of\nmilk. Did you see anything in the orchard?\" says he. \"Nothing worse\nnor myself,\" says Billy. \"What about my wages, now?\" says Billy.\n\"Well,\" says the gentleman, \"you'll hardly come alive out of the\norchard the morrow. So we'll wait till after that.\" Next morning his\nmaster told Billy that something must have happened to one of the\ngiants, for he used to hear cries of three every night, but last night\nhe only heard two crying. \"I don't know,\" said Billy, \"anything about\nthem.\" That morning after he got his breakfast Billy drove the three\ngoats, three cows, three horses, and three asses into the orchard\nagain, and began to feed them. About twelve o'clock he heard three\nterrible roars that shook the apples off the bushes, the horns off the\ncows, and made the hair stand up on Billy's head, and in comes a\nfrightful big giant, with six heads, and he told Billy he had killed\nhis brother yesterday, but he would make him pay for it the day.\n\"Ye're too big,\" says he, \"for one bite, and too small for two, and\nwhat will I do with you?\" \"I'll fight you,\" says Billy, swinging his\nstick three times over his head, and turning it into a sword, and\ngiving him the strength of a thousand men besides his own. The giant\nlaughed at him, and says he, \"How will I kill you--with a swing by the\nback, a cut of the sword, or a square round of boxing?\" \"With a swing\nby the back,\" says Billy, \"if you can.\" So the both of them laid\nholds, and Billy lifted the giant clean off the ground, and fetching\nhim down again, sunk him in it up to the arm-pits. \"Oh, spare my\nlife!\" says the giant. But Billy taking up his sword, killed him and\ncut out his tongues. It was evening by this time, and Billy drove home\nhis three goats, three cows, three horses, and three asses, and what\nmilk the cows gave that night overflowed all the vessels in the house,\nand, running out, turned a rusty mill that hadn't been turned before\nfor thirty years. If the master was surprised seeing Billy coming back\nthe night before, he was ten times more surprised now.\n\n\"Did you see anything in the orchard the day?\" says the gentleman.\n\"Nothing worse nor myself,\" says Billy. \"What about my wages now?\"\nsays Billy. \"Well, never mind about your wages,\" says the gentleman,\n\"till the morrow, for I think you'll hardly come back alive again,\"\nsays he. Well and good, Billy went to his bed, and the gentleman went\nto his bed, and when the gentleman rose in the morning, says he to\nBilly \"I don't know what's wrong with two of the giants; I only heard\none crying last night.\" \"I don't know,\" says Billy, \"they must be sick\nor something.\" Well, when Billy got his breakfast that day, again he\nset out to the orchard, driving before him the three goats, three\ncows, three horses, and three asses, and sure enough about the middle\nof the day he hears three terrible roars again, and in comes another\ngiant, this one with twelve heads on him, and if the other two were\nfrightful, surely this one was ten times more so. \"You villain, you,\"\nsays he to Billy, \"you killed my two brothers, and I'll have my\nrevenge on you now. Prepare till I kill you,\" says he; \"you're too big\nfor one bite, and too small for two; what will I do with you?\" \"I'll\nfight you,\" says Billy, shaping out and winding the bit of stick three\ntimes over his head. The giant laughed heartily at the size of him,\nand says he, \"What way do you prefer being killed? Is it with a swing\nby the back, a cut of the sword, or a square round of boxing?\" \"A\nswing by the back,\" says Billy. So both of them again laid holds, and\nmy brave Billy lifts the giant clean off the ground, and fetching him\ndown again, sunk him down to his arm-pits in it. \"Oh, have mercy!\nSpare my life!\" says the giant. But Billy took his sword, and,\nkilling him, cut out his tongues. That evening he drove home his three\ngoats, three cows, three horses, and three asses, and the milk of the\ncows had to be turned into a valley where it made a lough three miles\nlong, three miles broad, and three miles deep, and that lough has been\nfilled with salmon and white trout ever since. The gentleman wondered\nnow more than ever to see Billy back the third day alive. \"Did you see\nnothing in the orchard the day, Billy?\" says he. \"No, nothing worse\nnor myself,\" says Billy. \"Well, that beats me,\" says the gentleman.\n\"What about my wages now?\" says Billy. \"Well, you're a good, mindful\nboy, that I couldn't easy do without,\" says the gentleman, \"and I'll\ngive you any wages you ask for the future.\" The next morning, says the\ngentleman to Billy, \"I heard none of the giants crying last night,\nhowever it comes.\" \"I don't know,\" says Billy, \"they must be sick or\nsomething.\" \"Now, Billy,\" says the gentleman, \"you must look after the\ncattle the day again, while I go to see the fight.\" \"What fight?\" says\nBilly. \"Why,\" says the gentleman, \"it's the king's daughter is going\nto be devoured by a fiery dragon, if the greatest fighter in the land,\nthat they have been feeding specially for the last three months, isn't\nable to kill the dragon first. And if he's able to kill the dragon the\nking is to give him the daughter in marriage.\" \"That will be fine!\"\nsays Billy. Billy drove out his three goats, three cows, three horses,\nand three asses to the orchard that day again, and the like of all\nthat passed that day to see the fight with the man and the fiery\ndragon, Billy never witnessed before. They went in coaches and\ncarriages, on horses and jackasses, riding and walking, crawling and\ncreeping. \"My tight little fellow,\" says a man that was passing to\nBilly, \"why don't you come to see the great fight?\" \"What would take\nthe likes of me there?\" says Billy. But when Billy found them all gone\nhe saddled and bridled the best black horse his master had, and put on\nthe best suit of clothes he could get in his master's house, and rode\noff to the fight after the rest. When Billy went there he saw the\nking's daughter, with the whole court about her, on a platform before\nthe castle, and he thought he never saw anything half as beautiful,\nand the great warrior that was to fight the dragon was walking up and\ndown on the lawn before her, with three men carrying his sword, and\nevery one in the whole country gathered there looking at him. But when\nthe fiery dragon came up with twelve heads on him, and every mouth of\nhim spitting fire, and let twelve roars out of him, the warrior ran\naway and hid himself up to the neck in a well of water, and all they\ncould do they couldn't get him to come and face the dragon. Then the\nking's daughter asked if there was no one there to save her from the\ndragon, and get her in marriage. But no one stirred. When Billy saw\nthis, he tied the belt of the bull's hide round him, swung his stick\nover his head, and went in, and after a terrible fight, entirely\nkilled the dragon. Everyone then gathered about to find who the\nstranger was. Billy jumped on his horse and darted away sooner than\nlet them know; but just as he was getting away the king's daughter\npulled the shoe off his foot. When the dragon was killed the warrior\nthat had hid in the well of water came out, and cutting off the heads\nof the dragon he brought them to the king, and said that it was he who\nkilled the dragon, in disguise; and he claimed the king's daughter.\nBut she tried the shoe on him and found it didn't fit him; so she said\nit wasn't him, and that she would marry no one only the man the shoe\nfitted. When Billy got home he changed his clothes again, and had the\nhorse in the stable, and the cattle all in before his master came.\nWhen the master came, he began telling Billy about the wonderful day\nthey had entirely, and about the warrior hiding in the well of water,\nand about the grand stranger that came down out of the sky in a cloud\non a black horse, and killed the fiery dragon, and then vanished in a\ncloud again. \"And now,\" says he, \"Billy, wasn't that wonderful?\" \"It\nwas, indeed,\" says Billy, \"very wonderful entirely.\" After that it was\ngiven out over the country that all the people were to come to the\nking's castle on a certain day, till the king's daughter would try the\nshoe on them, and whoever it fitted she was to marry them. When the\nday arrived Billy was in the orchard with the three goats, three\ncows, three horses, and three asses, as usual, and the like of all the\ncrowds that passed that day going to the king's castle to get the shoe\ntried on, he never saw before. They went in coaches and carriages, on\nhorses and jackasses, riding and walking, and crawling and creeping.\nThey all asked Billy was not he going to the king's castle, but Billy\nsaid, \"Arrah, what would be bringin' the likes of me there?\" At last\nwhen all the others had gone there passed an old man with a very\nscarecrow suit of rags on him, and Billy stopped him and asked him\nwhat boot would he take and swap clothes with him. \"Just take care of\nyourself, now,\" says the old man, \"and don't be playing off your jokes\non my clothes, or maybe I'd make you feel the weight of this stick.\"\nBut Billy soon let him see it was in earnest he was, and both of them\nswapped suits, Billy giving the old man boot. Then off to the castle\nstarted Billy, with the suit of rags on his back and an old stick in\nhis hand, and when he come there he found all in great commotion,\ntrying on the shoe, and some of them cutting down their foot, trying\nto get it to fit. But it was all of no use, the shoe could be got to\nfit none of them at all, and the king's daughter was going to give up\nin despair when the wee, ragged-looking boy, which was Billy, elbowed\nhis way through them, and says he, \"Let me try it on; maybe it would\nfit me.\" But the people when they saw him, all began to laugh at the\nsight of him, and \"Go along out of that, you example, you,\" says they,\nshoving and pushing him back. But the king's daughter saw him, and\ncalled on them by all manner of means to let him come up and try on\nthe shoe. So Billy went up, and all the people looked on, breaking\ntheir hearts laughing at the conceit of it. But what would you have of\nit, but to the dumfounding of them all, the shoe fitted Billy as nice\nas if it was made on his foot for a last. So the king's daughter\nclaimed Billy as her husband. He then confessed that it was he that\nkilled the fiery dragon; and when the king had him dressed up in a\nsilk and satin suit, with plenty of gold and silver ornaments,\neveryone gave in that his like they never saw afore. He was then\nmarried to the king's daughter, and the wedding lasted nine days, nine\nhours, nine minutes, nine half minutes, and nine quarter minutes, and\nthey lived happy and well from that day to this. I got brogues of\n_brochan_[8] and breeches of glass, a bit of pie for telling a lie,\nand then I came slithering home.\n\n[Footnote 8: Porridge.]\n\n\n\n\nThe Princes Fire-flash and Fire-fade\n\n\nHis Highness Fire-flash was a Prince who was fond of fishing; and so\ngreat was his luck, that big fishes, and little fishes, and all kinds\nof fishes came to his line. His younger brother, Prince Fire-fade, was\nfond of hunting, and all his luck was on the hills, and in the woods,\nwhere he caught birds and beasts of every kind.\n\nOne day Prince Fire-fade said to his elder brother, Prince Fire-flash:\n\"Let us change. You go and hunt instead of me, and I will try my luck\nat fishing, if you will lend me your line and hook.\" Prince Fire-flash\ndid not care much to change, and at first said \"No\"; but his brother\nkept on teasing him about it, until at last he said, \"Very well, then;\nlet us change.\"\n\nThen Prince Fire-fade tried his luck at fishing, but not a single fish\ndid he catch; and, what was worse, he lost his brother's fish-hook in\nthe sea.\n\nPrince Fire-flash asked him for the hook, saying: \"Hunting is one\nthing, and fishing is another. Let us both go back to our own ways.\"\n\nThen said Prince Fire-fade: \"I did not catch a single fish with your\nhook, and at last I lost it in the sea.\"\n\nBut Prince Fire-flash said: \"I must and shall have my fish-hook.\" So\nthe younger brother broke his long sword, that was girded on him, and,\nof the pieces, made five hundred fish-hooks, and begged Prince\nFire-flash to take them, but he would not. Then Prince Fire-fade made\na thousand fish-hooks and said: \"Please take them instead of the one\nwhich I lost.\" But the elder brother said: \"No, I must have my own\nhook, and I will not take any other.\"\n\nThen Prince Fire-fade was very sorry, and sat down by the sea-shore,\ncrying bitterly.\n\nBy and by the Wise Old Man of the Sea came to him and asked: \"Why are\nyou crying so bitterly, Prince Fire-fade?\" Fire-fade told him all the\nstory of the lost fish-hook, and how that his brother was angry, still\nsaying that he must have that very same hook and no other. Then the\nWise Old Man of the Sea built a stout little boat, and made Prince\nFire-fade sit in it. Having pushed it a little from the land, he said:\n\"Now go on for some time in the boat; it will be very pleasant, for\nthe sea is calm. Soon you will come to a palace built like fishes'\nscales; this is the palace of the Sea-king. When you reach the gate,\nyou will see a fine cassia-tree growing above the well by the side of\nthe gate. If you will sit on the top of that tree, the Sea-king's\ndaughter will see you, and tell you what to do.\"\n\nSo Prince Fire-fade did as he was told, and everything came to pass\njust as the Wise Old Man of the Sea had told him. As soon as he was\ncome to the Sea-king's palace, he made haste, and climbed up into the\ncassia-tree, and sat there. Then came the maidens of the Princess\nPearl, the Sea-king's daughter, carrying golden water-pots. They were\njust going to draw water, when they saw a flood of light upon the\nwell. They looked up, and there in the cassia-tree was a beautiful\nyoung man. Prince Fire-fade saw the maidens, and asked for some water.\nThe maidens drew some, and put it in a golden cup, and gave him to\ndrink. Without tasting the water, the Prince took the jewel that hung\nat his neck, put it between his lips, and let it drop into the golden\ncup. It stuck to the cup, so that the maidens could not take it off;\nso they brought the cup, with the jewel on it, to the Princess Pearl.\n\nWhen she saw the jewel, the Princess asked her maidens: \"Is there\nanyone inside the gate?\" So the maidens answered: \"There is someone\nsitting on the top of the cassia-tree, above our well. It is a\nbeautiful young man--more beautiful even than our King. He asked for\nwater, and we gave him some; but, without drinking it, he dropped this\njewel from his lips into the cup, and we have brought it to you.\" Then\nPrincess Pearl, thinking this very strange, went out to look. She was\ndelighted at the sight, but not giving the Prince time to take more\nthan one little peep at her, she ran to tell her father, saying:\n\"Father, there is a beautiful person at our gate.\"\n\nThen the Sea-king himself went out to look. When he saw the young man\non the top of the tree, he knew that it must be Prince Fire-fade. He\nmade him come down, and led him into the palace, where he seated him\nupon a throne made of sea-asses' skins, and silk rugs, eight layers of\neach. Then a great feast was spread, and every one was so kind to\nPrince Fire-fade, that the end of it was, he married Princess Pearl,\nand lived in that land for three years.\n\nNow, one night, when the three years had almost passed, Prince\nFire-fade thought of his home, and what had happened there, and heaved\none deep sigh.\n\nPrincess Pearl was grieved, and told her father, saying: \"We have been\nso happy these three years, and he never sighed before, but, last\nnight, he heaved one deep sigh. What can the meaning of it be?\" So the\nSea-king asked the Prince to tell him what ailed him, and also what\nhad been the reason of his coming to that land. Then Prince Fire-fade\ntold the Sea-king all the story of the lost fish-hook, and how his\nelder brother had behaved.\n\nThe Sea-king at once called together all the fishes of the sea, great\nand small, and asked: \"Has any fish taken this fish-hook?\" So all the\nfishes said: \"The _tai_[9] has been complaining of something sticking\nin his throat, and hurting him when he eats, so perhaps he has taken\nthe hook.\"\n\n[Footnote 9: A kind of fish.]\n\nSo they made the _tai_ open his mouth, and looked in his throat, and\nthere, sure enough, was the fish-hook. Then the hook was washed and\ngiven to Prince Fire-fade. The Sea-king also gave him two jewels. One\nwas called the tide-flowing jewel, and the other was called the\ntide-ebbing jewel. And he said then to the Prince: \"Go home now to\nyour own land, and take back the fish-hook to your brother. In this\nway you shall plague him. If he plant rice-fields in the upland, make\nyou your rice-fields in the valley; and if he make rice-fields in the\nvalley, do you make your rice-fields in the upland. I will rule the\nwater so that it may do good to you, but harm to him. If Prince\nFire-flash should be angry with you for this, and try to kill you,\nthen put out the tide-flowing jewel, and the tide will come up to\ndrown him. But if he is sorry, and asks pardon, then put out the\ntide-ebbing jewel, and the tide will go back, and let him live.\"\n\nThen the Sea-king called all the crocodiles, and said: \"His Highness\nPrince Fire-fade is going to the upper world; which of you will take\nhim there quickly, and bring me back word?\" And one crocodile a fathom\nlong, answered: \"I will take him to the upper world, and come back in\na day.\"\n\n\"Do so, then,\" said the Sea-king, \"and be sure that you do not\nfrighten him as you are crossing the middle of the sea.\" He then\nseated the Prince upon the crocodile's head, and saw him off.\n\nThe crocodile brought him safe home, in one day, as he had promised.\nWhen the crocodile was going to start back again, Prince Fire-fade\nuntied the dirk from his own belt, and setting it on the creature's\nneck, sent him away.\n\nThen Prince Fire-fade gave the fish-hook to his elder brother; and, in\nall things, did as the Sea-king had told him to do. So from that time,\nPrince Fire-flash became poor, and came with great fury to kill his\nbrother. But, just in time, Prince Fire-fade put forth the\ntide-flowing jewel to drown him. When he found himself in such danger,\nPrince Fire-flash said he was sorry. So his brother put forth the\ntide-ebbing jewel to save him.\n\nWhen he had been plagued in this way for a long time, he bowed his\nhead, saying: \"From this time forth, I submit to you, my younger\nbrother. I will be your guard by day and by night, and in all things\nserve you.\" His struggles in the water, when he thought he was\ndrowning, are shown at the Emperor's Court even to this very day.\n\n\n\n\n_Panch-Phul Ranee_\n\n\nA certain Rajah had two wives, of whom he preferred the second to the\nfirst; the first Ranee had a son, but because he was not the child of\nthe second Ranee, his father took a great dislike to him, and treated\nhim so harshly that the poor boy was very unhappy.\n\nOne day, therefore, he said to his mother: \"Mother, my father does not\ncare for me, and my presence is only a vexation to him. I should be\nhappier anywhere than here; let me therefore go and seek my fortune in\nother lands.\"\n\nSo the Ranee asked her husband if he would allow their son to travel.\nHe said, \"The boy is free to go, but I don't see how he is to live in\nany other part of the world, for he is too stupid to earn his living,\nand I will give him no money to squander on senseless pleasures.\" Then\nthe Ranee told her son that he had his father's permission to travel,\nand said to him, \"You are going out into the world now to try your\nluck; take with you the food and clothes I have provided for your\njourney.\" And she gave him a bundle of clothes and several small\nloaves, and in each loaf she placed a gold mohur, that on opening it,\nhe might find money as well as food inside; and he started on his\njourney.\n\nWhen the young Rajah had travelled a long way, and left his father's\nkingdom far behind, he one day came upon the outskirts of a great\ncity, where, instead of taking the position due to his rank, and\nsending to inform the Rajah of his arrival, he went to a poor\nCarpenter's house, and begged of him a lodging for the night. The\nCarpenter was busy making wooden clogs in the porch of his house, but\nhe looked up and nodded, saying, \"Young man, you are welcome to any\nassistance a stranger may need and we can give. If you are in want of\nfood, you will find my wife and daughter in the house; they will be\nhappy to cook for you.\" The Rajah went inside and said to the\nCarpenter's daughter, \"I am a stranger and have travelled a long way;\nI am both tired and hungry; cook me some dinner as fast as you can,\nand I will pay you for your trouble.\" She answered, \"I would willingly\ncook you some dinner at once, but I have no wood to light the fire,\nand the jungle is some way off.\" \"It matters not,\" said the Rajah;\n\"this will do to light the fire, and I'll make the loss good to your\nfather\"; and taking a pair of new clogs which the Carpenter had just\nfinished making, he broke them up and lighted the fire with them.\n\nNext morning, he went into the jungle, cut wood, and, having made a\npair of new clogs--better than those with which he had lighted the\nfire the evening before--placed them with the rest of the goods for\nsale in the Carpenter's shop. Shortly afterward, one of the servants\nof the Rajah of that country came to buy a pair of clogs for his\nmaster, and seeing these new ones, said to the Carpenter, \"Why, man,\nthese clogs are better than all the rest put together. I will take\nnone other to the Rajah. I wish you would always make such clogs as\nthese.\" And throwing down ten gold mohurs on the floor of the hut, he\ntook up the clogs and went away.\n\nThe Carpenter was much surprised at the whole business. In the first\nplace, he usually received only two or three rupees for each pair of\nclogs; and in the second, he knew that these which the Rajah's servant\nhad judged worth ten gold mohurs had not been made by him; and how\nthey had come there he could not think, for he felt certain they were\nnot with the rest of the clogs the night before. He thought and\nthought, but the more he thought about the matter the more puzzled he\ngot, and he went to talk about it to his wife and daughter. Then his\ndaughter said, \"Oh, those must have been the clogs the stranger made!\"\nAnd she told her father how he had lighted the fire the night before\nwith two of the clogs which were for sale, and had afterward fetched\nwood from the jungle and made another pair to replace them.\n\nThe Carpenter, at this news, was more astonished than ever, and he\nthought to himself, \"Since this stranger seems a quiet, peaceable sort\nof man, and can make clogs so well, it is a great pity he should leave\nthis place; he would make a good husband for my daughter\"; and,\ncatching hold of the young Rajah, he propounded his scheme to him.\n(But all this time he had no idea that his guest was a Rajah.)\n\nNow the Carpenter's daughter was a very pretty girl--as pretty as any\nRanee you ever saw; she was also good-tempered, clever, and could cook\nextremely well. So when the Carpenter asked the Rajah to be his\nson-in-law, he looked at the father, the mother, and the girl, and\nthinking to himself that many a better man had a worse fate, he said,\n\"Yes, I will marry your daughter, and stay here and make clogs.\" So\nthe Rajah married the Carpenter's daughter.\n\nThis Rajah was very clever at making all sorts of things in wood. When\nhe had made all the clogs he wished to sell next day, he would amuse\nhimself in making toys; and in this way he made a thousand wooden\nparrots. They were as like real parrots as possible. They had each two\nwings, two legs, two eyes, and a sharp beak. And when the Rajah had\nfinished them all, he painted and varnished them and put them, one\nafternoon, outside the house to dry.\n\nNight came on, and with it came Parbuttee and Mahdeo, flying round the\nworld to see the different races of men. Among the many places they\nvisited was the city where the Carpenter lived; and in the garden in\nfront of the house they saw the thousand wooden parrots which the\nRajah had made and painted and varnished, all placed out to dry. Then\nParbuttee turned to Mahdeo, and said, \"These parrots are very well\nmade--they need nothing but life. Why should not we give them life?\"\nMahdeo answered, \"What would be the use of that? It would be a strange\nfreak, indeed!\" \"Oh,\" said Parbuttee, \"I only meant you to do it as an\namusement. It would be so funny to see the wooden parrots flying\nabout! But do not do it if you don't like.\" \"You would like it,\nthen?\" answered Mahdeo. \"Very well, I will do it.\" And he endowed the\nthousand parrots with life.\n\nParbuttee and Mahdeo then flew away.\n\nNext morning the Rajah got up early to see if the varnish he had put\non the wooden parrots was dry; but no sooner did he open the door\nthan--marvel of marvels!--the thousand wooden parrots all came walking\ninto the house, flapping their wings and chatting to each other.\n\nHearing the noise, the Carpenter and the Carpenter's wife and daughter\ncame running out to see what was the matter, and were not less\nastonished than the Rajah himself at the miracle which had taken\nplace. Then the Carpenter's wife turned to her son-in-law, and said,\n\"It is all very well that you should have made these wooden parrots;\nbut I don't know where we are to find food for them! Great, strong\nparrots like these will eat not less than a pound of rice apiece every\nday. Your father-in-law and I cannot afford to procure as much as that\nfor them in this poor house. If you wish to keep them, you must live\nelsewhere, for we cannot provide for you all.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said the Rajah; \"you shall not have cause to accuse me of\nruining you, for from henceforth I will have a house of my own.\" So he\nand his wife went to live in a house of their own, and he took the\nthousand parrots with him, and his mother-in-law gave her daughter\nsome corn and rice and money to begin housekeeping with. Moreover, he\nfound that the parrots, instead of being an expense, were the means of\nincreasing his fortune; for they flew away every morning early to get\nfood, and spent the whole day out in the fields; and every evening,\nwhen they returned home, each parrot brought in his beak a stalk of\ncorn or rice, or whatever it had found good to eat. Their master\ntherefore was regularly supplied with more food than enough; and what\nwith selling what he did not require, and working at his trade, he\nsoon became quite a rich carpenter.\n\nAfter he had been living in this way very happily for some time, one\nnight, when he fell asleep, the Rajah dreamed a wonderful dream, and\nthis was the dream:\n\nHe thought that very, very far away beyond the Red Sea was a beautiful\nkingdom surrounded by seven other seas; and that it belonged to a\nRajah and Ranee who had one lovely daughter, named Panch-Phul Ranee\n(the Five Flower Queen), after whom the whole kingdom was called\nPanch-Phul Ranee's country; and that this Princess lived in the centre\nof her father's kingdom, in a little house round which were seven wide\nditches, and seven great hedges made of spears; and that she was\ncalled Panch-Phul Ranee because she was so light and delicate that she\nweighed no more than five white lotus flowers! Moreover, he dreamed\nthat this Princess had vowed to marry no one who would not cross the\nseven seas, and jump the seven ditches and seven hedges made of\nspears.\n\nAfter dreaming this the young Rajah awoke, and feeling much puzzled,\ngot up, and sitting with his head in his hands, tried to think the\nmatter over and discover if he had ever heard anything like his dream\nbefore; but he could make nothing of it.\n\nWhile he was thus thinking, his wife awoke and asked him what was the\nmatter. He told her, and she said, \"That is a strange dream. If I were\nyou, I'd ask the old parrot about it; he is a wise bird, and perhaps\nhe knows.\" This parrot of which she spoke was the most wise of all the\nthousand wooden parrots. The Rajah took his wife's advice, and when\nall the birds came home that evening, he called the old parrot and\ntold him his dream, saying, \"Can this be true?\" To which the parrot\nreplied, \"It is all true. The Panch-Phul Ranee's country lies beyond\nthe Red Sea, and is surrounded by seven seas, and she dwells in a\nhouse built in the centre of her father's kingdom. Round her house are\nseven ditches, and seven hedges made of spears, and she has vowed not\nto marry any man who cannot jump these seven ditches and seven hedges;\nand because she is very beautiful many great and noble men have tried\nto do this, but in vain.\n\n\"The Rajah and Ranee, her father and mother, are very fond of her and\nproud of her. Every day she goes to the palace to see them, and they\nweigh her in a pair of scales. They put her in one scale and five\nlotus flowers in the other, and she's so delicate and fragile she\nweighs no heavier than the five little flowers, so they call her the\nPanch-Phul Ranee. Her father and mother are very proud of this.\"\n\n\"I should like to go to that country and see the Panch-Phul Ranee,\"\nsaid the Rajah; \"but I don't know how I could cross the seven seas.\"\n\"I will show you how to manage that,\" replied the old parrot. \"I and\nanother parrot will fly close together, I crossing my left over his\nright wing; so that we will move along as if we were one bird (using\nonly our outside wings to fly with), and on the chair made of our\ninterlaced wings you shall sit, and we will carry you safely across\nthe seven seas. On the way we will every evening alight in some high\ntree and rest, and every morning we can go on again.\" \"That sounds a\ngood plan; I have a great desire to try it,\" said the Rajah. \"Wife,\nwhat should you think of my going to the Panch-Phul Ranee's country,\nand seeing if I can jump the seven ditches, and seven hedges made of\nspears. Will you let me try?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" she answered. \"If you like to go and marry her, go; only take\ncare that you do not kill yourself; and mind you come back some day.\"\nAnd she prepared food for him to take with him, and took off her gold\nand silver bangles, which she placed in a bundle of warm things, that\nhe might be in need neither of money nor clothes on the journey. He\nthen charged the nine hundred and ninety-eight parrots he left behind\nhim to bring her plenty of corn and rice daily (that she might never\nneed food while he was away), and took her to the house of her father,\nin whose care she was to remain during his absence; and he wished her\ngood-bye, saying, \"Do not fear but that I will come back to you, even\nif I do win the Panch-Phul Ranee, for you will always be my first\nwife, though you are the Carpenter's daughter.\"\n\nThe old parrot and another parrot then spread their wings, on which\nthe Rajah seated himself as on a chair, and rising up in the air, they\nflew away with him out of sight.\n\nFar, far, far they flew, as fast as parrots can fly, over hills, over\nforests, over rivers, over valleys, on, on, on, hour after hour, day\nafter day, week after week, only staying to rest every night when it\ngot too dark to see where they were going. At last they reached the\nseven seas which surrounded the Panch-Phul Ranee's country. When once\nthey began crossing the seas they could not rest (for there was\nneither rock nor island on which to alight), so they were obliged to\nfly straight across them, night and day, until they gained the shore.\n\nBy reason of this the parrots were too exhausted on their arrival to\ngo as far as the city where the Rajah, Panch-Phul Ranee's father,\nlived, but they flew down to rest on a beautiful banyan tree, which\ngrew not far from the sea, close to a small village. The Rajah\ndetermined to go into the village and get food and shelter there. He\ntold the parrots to stay in the banyan tree till his return; then,\nleaving his bundle of clothes and most of his money in their charge,\nhe set off on foot toward the nearest house.\n\nAfter a little while he reached a Malee's cottage, and giving a gold\nmohur to the Malee's wife, got her to provide him with food and\nshelter for the night.\n\nNext morning he rose early, and said to his hostess, \"I am a stranger\nhere, and know nothing of the place. What is the name of your\ncountry?\" \"This,\" she said, \"is Panch-Phul Ranee's country.\"\n\n\"And what is the last news in your town?\" he asked, \"Very bad news\nindeed,\" she replied. \"You must know our Rajah has one only\ndaughter--a most beautiful Princess--and her name is Panch-Phul Ranee,\nfor she is so light and delicate that she weighs no heavier than five\nlotus flowers. After her this whole country is called Panch-Phul\nRanee's country. She lives in a small bungalow in the centre of the\ncity you see yonder; but, unluckily for us, she has vowed to marry no\nman who cannot jump on foot over the seven hedges made of spears, and\nacross the seven great ditches that surround her house. This cannot be\ndone, Babamah! I don't know how many hundreds of thousands of Rajahs\nhave tried to do it and died in the attempt! Yet the Princess will not\nbreak her vow. Daily, worse and worse tidings come from the city of\nfresh people having been killed in trying to jump the seven hedges and\nseven ditches, and I see no end to the misfortunes that will arise\nfrom it. Not only are so many brave men lost to the world, but, since\nthe Princess will marry no one who does not succeed in this, she\nstands a chance of not marrying at all; and if that be so, when the\nRajah dies there will be no one to protect her and claim the right to\nsucceed to the throne. All the nobles will probably fight for the Raj,\nand the whole kingdom be turned topsy-turvy.\"\n\n\"Mahi,\" said the Rajah, \"if that is all there is to do, I will try and\nwin your Princess, for I can jump right well.\"\n\n\"Baba,\" answered the Malee's wife, \"do not think of such a thing; are\nyou mad? I tell you, hundreds of thousands of men have said these\nwords before, and been killed for their rashness. What power do you\nthink you possess, to succeed where all before you have failed? Give\nup all thought of this, for it is utter folly.\"\n\n\"I will not do it,\" answered the Rajah, \"before going to consult some\nof my friends.\"\n\nSo he left the Malee's cottage, and returned to the banyan tree to\ntalk over the matter with the parrots; for he thought they would be\nable to carry him on their wings across the seven ditches and seven\nhedges made of spears. When he reached the old tree the parrot said to\nhim, \"It is two days since you left us; what news have you brought\nfrom the village?\" The Rajah answered, \"The Panch-Phul Ranee still\nlives in the house surrounded by the seven ditches, and seven hedges\nmade of spears, and has vowed to marry no man who cannot jump over\nthem; but cannot you parrots, who brought me all the way over the\nseven seas, carry me on your wings across these great barriers?\"\n\n\"You stupid man!\" answered the old parrot, \"of course we could; but\nwhat would be the good of doing so? If we carried you across, it would\nnot be at all the same thing as your jumping across, and the Princess\nwould no more consent to marry you than she would now; for she has\nvowed to marry no one who has not jumped across _on foot_. If you want\nto do the thing, why not do it yourself, instead of talking nonsense.\nHave you forgotten how, when you were a little boy, you were taught to\njump by conjurors and tumblers (for the parrot knew all the Rajah's\nhistory)? Now is the time to put their lessons in practice. If you can\njump the seven ditches, and seven hedges made of spears, you will have\ndone a good work, and be able to marry the Panch-Phul Ranee; but if\nnot, this is a thing in which we cannot help you.\"\n\n\"You reason justly,\" replied the Rajah. \"I will try to put in practice\nthe lessons I learnt when a boy; meantime, do you stay here till my\nreturn.\"\n\nSo saying, he went away to the city, which he reached by nightfall.\nNext morning early he went to where the Princess's bungalow stood, to\ntry to jump the fourteen great barriers. He was strong and agile, and\nhe jumped the seven great ditches, and six of the seven hedges made of\nspears; but in running to jump the seventh hedge he hurt his foot,\nand, stumbling, fell upon the spears and died--run through and through\nwith the cruel iron spikes.\n\nWhen Panch-Phul Ranee's father and mother got up that morning and\nlooked out, as their custom was, toward their daughter's bungalow,\nthey saw something transfixed upon the seventh hedge of spears, but\nwhat it was they could not make out, for it dazzled their eyes. So the\nRajah called his Wuzeer and said to him, \"For some days I have seen no\none attempt to jump the seven hedges and seven ditches round\nPanch-Phul Ranee's bungalow; but what is that which I now see upon the\nseventh hedge of spears?\" The Wuzeer answered, \"That is a Rajah's son,\nwho has failed, like all who have gone before him.\" \"But how is it,\"\nasked the Rajah, \"that he thus dazzles our eyes?\"\n\n\"It is,\" replied the Wuzeer, \"because he is so beautiful. Of all that\nhave died for the sake of Panch-Phul Ranee, this youth is, beyond\ndoubt, the handsomest.\" \"Alas!\" cried the Rajah, \"how many and how\nmany brave men has my daughter killed? I will have no more die for\nher. Let us send her and the dead man together away into the jungle.\"\n\nThen he ordered the servants to fetch the young Rajah's body. There he\nlay, still and beautiful, with a glory shining round him as the\nmoonlight shines round the clear bright moon, but without a spark of\nlife.\n\nWhen the Rajah saw him, he said, \"Oh, pity, pity, that so brave and\nhandsome a boy should have come dying after this girl! Yet he is but\none of the thousands of thousands who have died thus to no purpose.\nPull up the spears and cast them into the seven ditches, for they\nshall remain no longer.\"\n\nThen he commanded two palanquins to be prepared and men in readiness\nto carry them, and said, \"Let the girl be married to the young Rajah,\nand let both be taken far away into the jungle, that we may never see\nthem more. Then there will be quiet in the land again.\"\n\nThe Ranee, Panch-Phul Ranee's mother, cried bitterly at this, for she\nwas very fond of her daughter, and she begged her husband not to send\nher away so cruelly--the living with the dead; but the Rajah was\ninexorable. \"That poor boy died,\" he said; \"let my daughter die, too!\nI'll have no more men killed here.\"\n\nSo the two palanquins were prepared. Then he placed his daughter in\nthe one, and her dead husband in the other, and said to the\npalkee-bearers, \"Take these palkees and go out into the jungle until\nyou have reached a place so desolate that not so much as a sparrow is\nto be seen, and there leave them both.\"\n\nAnd so they did. Deep down in the jungle, where no bright sun could\npierce the darkness, nor human voice be heard, far from any habitation\nof man or means of supporting life, on the edge of a dank, stagnant\nmorass that was shunned by all but noisome reptiles and wandering\nbeasts of prey, they set them down and left them, the dead husband and\nthe living wife, alone to meet the horrors of the coming night--alone,\nwithout a chance of rescue.\n\nPanch-Phul Ranee heard the bearers' retreating footsteps, and their\nvoices getting fainter and fainter in the distance, and felt that she\nhad nothing to hope for but death.\n\nNight seemed coming on apace, for though the sun had not set, the\njungle was dark so that but little light pierced the gloom; and she\nthought she would take a last look at the husband her vow had killed,\nand, sitting beside him, wait till starvation should make her as he\nwas, or some wild animal put a more speedy end to her sufferings.\n\nShe left her palkee and went toward his. There he lay with closed eyes\nand close-shut lips; black curling hair, which escaped from under his\nturban, concealed a ghastly wound on his temple. There was no look of\npain on the face, and the long, sweeping eyelashes gave it such a\ntender, softened expression she could hardly believe that he was dead.\nHe was, in truth, very beautiful; and, watching him, she said to\nherself, \"Alas, what a noble being is here lost to the world! what an\nearth's joy is extinguished! Was it for this I was cold, and proud,\nand stern--to break the cup of my own happiness and to be the death of\nsuch as you? Must you now never know that you won your wife? Must you\nnever hear her ask your pardon for the past, nor know her cruel\npunishment? Ah, if you had but lived, how dearly I would have loved\nyou! Oh, my husband! my husband!\" And sinking down on the ground, she\nburied her face in her hands and cried bitterly.\n\nWhile she was sitting thus, night closed over the jungle, and brought\nwith it wild beasts that had left their dens and lairs in search of\nprey--to roam about, as the heat of the day was over. Tigers, lions,\nelephants, and bison, all came by turns, crushing through the\nunderwood which surrounded the place where the palkees were, but they\ndid no harm to Panch-Phul Ranee, for she was so fair that not even the\ncruel beasts of the forests would injure her. At last, about four\no'clock in the morning, all the wild animals had gone except two\nlittle jackals, who had been very busy watching the rest and picking\nthe bones left by the tigers. Tired with running about, they lay down\nto rest close to the palkees. Then one little jackal said to the\nother, who was her husband, \"Do tell me a little story.\" \"Dear me!\"\nexclaimed he, \"what people you women are for stories! Well, look just\nin front of you; do you see those two?\" \"Yes,\" she answered; \"what of\nthem?\" \"That woman you see sitting on the ground,\" he said, \"is the\nPanch-Phul Ranee.\" \"And what son of a Rajah is the man in the palkee?\"\nasked she. \"That,\" he replied, \"is a very sorrowful son. His father\nwas so unkind to him that he left his own home, and went to live in\nanother country very far from this; and there he dreamed about the\nPanch-Phul Ranee, and came to our land in order to marry her, but he\nwas killed in jumping the seventh hedge of spears, and all he gained\nwas to die for her sake.\"\n\n\"That is very sad,\" said the first little jackal; \"but could he never\nby any chance come to life again?\" \"Yes,\" answered the other; \"maybe\nhe could, if only someone knew how to apply the proper remedies.\"\n\"What are the proper remedies, and how could he be cured?\" asked the\nlady jackal. (Now, all this conversation had been heard by Panch-Phul\nRanee, and when this question was asked she listened very eagerly and\nattentively for the answer.)\n\n\"Do you see this tree?\" replied her husband. \"Well, if some of its\nleaves were crushed, and a little of the juice put into the Rajah's\ntwo ears and upon his upper lip, and some upon his temples, also, and\nsome upon the spear-wounds in his side, he would come to life again\nand be as well as ever.\"\n\nAt this moment day dawned, and the two little jackals ran away.\nPanch-Phul Ranee did not forget their words. She, a Princess born, who\nhad never put her foot to the ground before (so delicately and\ntenderly had she been reared), walked over the rough clods of earth\nand the sharp stones till she reached the place where the tree grew of\nwhich the jackals had spoken. She gathered a number of its leaves,\nand, with hands and feet that had never before done coarse or common\nwork, beat and crushed them down. They were so stiff, and strong that\nit took her a long time. At last, after tearing them, and stamping on\nthem, and pounding them between two stones, and biting the hardest\nparts, she thought they were sufficiently crushed; and rolling them up\nin a corner of her saree, she squeezed the juice through it on to her\nhusband's temples, and put a little on his upper lip and into his\nears, and some also on the spear-wound in his side. And when she had\ndone this, he awoke as if he had been only sleeping, and sat up,\nwondering where he was. Before him stood Panch-Phul Ranee shining like\na glorious star, and all around them was the dark jungle.\n\nIt would be hard to say which of them was the more astonished--the\nRajah or the Princess. She was surprised that the remedy should have\ntaken such speedy effect, and could hardly believe her eyes when she\nsaw her husband get up. And if he looked beautiful when dead, much\nmore handsome did he seem to her now, so full of life and animation\nand power--the picture of health and strength. And he, in his turn,\nwas lost in amazement at the exquisite loveliness of the lady who\nstood before him. He did not know who she could be, for he had never\nseen her like, except in a dream. Could she be really the\nworld-renowned Panch-Phul Ranee, or was he dreaming still? He feared\nto move lest he should break the spell. But as he sat there wondering,\nshe spoke, saying, \"You marvel at what has taken place. You do not\nknow me--I am Panch-Phul Ranee, your wife.\"\n\nThen he said, \"Ah, Princess, is it indeed you? You have been very hard\nto me.\" \"I know, I know,\" she answered; \"I caused your death, but I\nbrought you to life again. Let the past be forgotten; come home with\nme, and my father and mother will welcome you as a son.\"\n\nHe replied, \"No, I must return first to my own home a while. Do you\nrather return there now with me, for it is a long time since I left\nit, and afterward we will come again to your father's kingdom.\"\n\nTo this Panch-Phul Ranee agreed. It took them, however, a long time to\nfind their way out of the jungle. At last they succeeded in doing so,\nfor none of the wild animals in it attempted to injure them, so\nbeautiful and royal did they both look.\n\nWhen they reached the banyan tree, where the Rajah had left the two\nparrots, the old parrot called out to him, \"So you have come back at\nlast! We thought you never would, you were such a long time away!\nThere you went, leaving us here all the time, and after all doing no\ngood, but only getting yourself killed. Why didn't you do as we\nadvised you, and jump up nicely?\"\n\n\"Well, I'm sure,\" said the Rajah, \"yours is a hard case; but I beg\nyour pardon for keeping you waiting so long, and now I hope you'll\ntake me and my wife home.\"\n\n\"Yes, we will do that,\" answered the parrots; \"but you had better get\nsome dinner first, for it's a long journey over the seven seas.\"\n\nSo the Rajah went to the village close by and bought food for himself\nand the Panch-Phul Ranee. When he returned with it, he said to her, \"I\nfear the long journey before us for you; had you not better let me\nmake it alone, and return here for you when it is over?\" But she\nanswered, \"No! what could I, a poor weak woman, do here alone? and I\nwill not return to my father's house till you can come, too. Take me\nwith you, however far you go; only promise me you will never leave\nme.\" So he promised her, and they both, mounting the parrots, were\ncarried up in the air across the seven seas, across the Red Sea, on,\non, on, a whole year's journey, until they reached his father's\nkingdom, and alighted to rest at the foot of the palace garden. The\nRajah, however, did not know where he was, for all had much changed\nsince he left it some years before.\n\nThen a little son was born to the Rajah and Panch-Phul Ranee. He was a\nbeautiful child, but his father was grieved to think that in that\nbleak place there was no shelter for the mother or the baby. So he\nsaid to his wife, \"I will go to fetch food for us both, and fire to\ncook it with, and inquire what this country is, and seek out a place\nof rest for you. Do not be afraid; I shall soon return.\" Now, far off\nin the distance, smoke was to be seen rising from tents which belonged\nto some conjurors and dancing-people, and thither the Rajah bent his\nsteps, feeling certain he should be able to get fire, and perhaps\nfood also, from the inhabitants. When he got there, he found the place\nwas much larger than he had expected--quite a good-sized village, in\nfact--the abode of Nautch people and conjurors. In all the houses the\npeople were busy, some dancing, some singing, others trying various\nconjuring tricks or practising beating the drum, and all seemed happy\nand joyful.\n\nWhen the conjurors saw him, they were so much struck with his\nappearance (for he was very handsome) that they determined to make\nhim, if possible, stay among them, and join their band. And they said\none to another, \"How well he would look beating the drum for the\ndancers! All the world would come to see us dance, if we had such a\nhandsome man as that to beat the drum.\"\n\nThe Rajah, unconscious of their intentions, went into the largest hut\nhe saw, and said to a woman who was grinding corn, \"Bai, give me a\nlittle rice, and some fire from your hearth.\" She immediately\nconsented, and got up to fetch the burning sticks he asked for; but\nbefore she gave them to him, she and her companions threw upon them a\ncertain powder, containing a very potent charm; and no sooner did the\nRajah receive them than he forgot about his wife and little child, his\njourney, and all that had ever happened to him in his life before;\nsuch was the peculiar property of the powder. And when the conjurors\nsaid to him, \"Why should you go away? stay with us, and be one of us,\"\nhe willingly consented to do so.\n\nAll this time Panch-Phul Ranee waited and waited for her husband, but\nhe never came. Night approached without his having brought her any\nfood or news of having found a place of shelter for her and the baby.\nAt last, faint and weary, she swooned away.\n\nIt happened that that very day the Ranee (Panch-Phul Ranee's husband's\nmother) lost her youngest child, a fine little boy of only a day old;\nand her servants took its body to the bottom of the garden to bury it.\nJust as they were going to do so, they heard a low cry, and, looking\nround, saw close by a beautiful woman lying on the ground, dead, or\napparently so, and beside her a fine little baby boy. The idea\nimmediately entered their heads of leaving the dead baby beside the\ndead woman, and taking her living baby back with them to the palace;\nand so they did.\n\nWhen they returned, they said to their mistress, \"Your child did not\ndie; see, here it is--it got well again,\" and showed her Panch-Phul\nRanee's baby. But after a time, when the Ranee questioned them about\nit, they told her the whole truth; but she had become meanwhile very\nfond of the little boy, and so he continued in the palace and was\nbrought up as her son; being, in truth, her grandson, though she did\nnot know it.\n\nMeantime the palace Malee's wife went out, as her custom was every\nmorning and evening, to gather flowers. In search of them she wandered\nas far as the jungle at the bottom of the garden, and there she found\nthe Panch-Phul Ranee lying as dead, and the dead baby beside her.\n\nThe good woman felt very sorry, and rubbed the Ranee's cold hands and\ngave her sweet flowers to smell in hopes that she might revive. At\nlast she opened her eyes, and seeing the Malee's wife, said, \"Where am\nI? Has not my husband come back? and who are you?\"\n\n\"My poor lady,\" answered the Malee's wife, \"I do not know where your\nhusband is. I am the Malee's wife, and coming here to gather flowers,\nI found you lying on the ground, and this your little baby, who is\ndead; but come home with me, I will take care of you.\"\n\nPanch-Phul Ranee answered, \"Kind friend, this is not my baby; he did\nnot die; he was the image of his father, and fairer than this child.\nSomeone must have taken him away, for but a little while ago, I held\nhim in my arms, and he was strong and well, while this one could never\nhave been more than a puny, weakly infant. Take me away; I will go\nhome with you.\"\n\nSo the Malee's wife buried the dead child and took the Panch-Phul\nRanee to her house, where she lived for fourteen years; but all that\ntime she could gain no tidings of her husband or her lost little boy.\nThe child, meanwhile, grew up in the palace, and became a very\nhandsome youth. One day he was wandering round the garden and chanced\nto pass the Malee's house. The Panch-Phul Ranee was sitting within,\nwatching the Malee's wife cook their dinner.\n\nThe young Prince saw her, and calling the Malee's wife, said to her,\n\"What beautiful lady is that in your house? and how did she come\nthere?\" She answered, \"Little Prince, what nonsense you talk! there is\nno lady here.\" He said again, \"I know there is a beautiful lady here,\nfor I saw her as I passed the open door.\" She replied, \"If you come\ntelling such tales about my house, I'll pull your tongue out.\" For she\nthought to herself, \"Unless I scold him well, the boy 'll go talking\nabout what he's seen in the palace, and then perhaps some of the\npeople from there will come and take the poor Panch-Phul Ranee away\nfrom my care.\" But while the Malee's wife was talking to the young\nPrince, the Panch-Phul Ranee came from the inner room to watch and\nlisten to him unobserved; and no sooner did she see him than she could\nnot forbear crying out, \"Oh, how like he is to my husband! The same\neyes, the same shaped face and the same king-like bearing! Can he be\nmy son? He is just the age my son would have been had he lived.\"\n\nThe young Prince heard her speaking and asked what she said, to which\nthe Malee's wife replied, \"The woman you saw, and who just now spoke,\nlost her child fourteen years ago, and she was saying to herself how\nlike you were to that child, and thinking you must be the same; but\nshe is wrong, for we know you are the Ranee's son.\" Then Panch-Phul\nRanee herself came out of the house, and said to him, \"Young Prince, I\ncould not, when I saw you, help exclaiming how like you are to what my\nlost husband was, and to what my son might have been; for it is now\nfourteen years since I lost them both.\" And she told him how she had\nbeen a great Princess, and was returning with her husband to his own\nhome and how her little baby had been born in the jungle, and her\nhusband had gone away to seek shelter for her and the child, and fire\nand food, and had never returned; and also how, when she had fainted\naway, someone had certainly stolen her baby and left a dead child in\nits place; and how the good Malee's wife had befriended her, and taken\nher ever since to live in her house. And when she had ended her story\nshe began to cry.\n\nBut the Prince said to her, \"Be of good cheer; I will endeavour to\nrecover your husband and child for you; who knows but I may indeed be\nyour son, beautiful lady?\" And running home to the Ranee (his adopted\nmother), he said to her, \"Are you really my mother? Tell me truly; for\nthis I must know before the sun goes down.\" \"Why do you ask foolish\nquestions?\" she replied; \"have I not always treated you as a son?\"\n\"Yes,\" he said; \"but tell me the very truth; am I your own child, or\nthe child of someone else, adopted as yours? If you do not tell me, I\nwill kill myself.\" And so saying, he drew his sword. She replied,\n\"Stay, stay, and I will tell you the whole truth; the day before you\nwere born I had a little baby, but it died; and my servants took it to\nthe bottom of the garden to bury it, and there they found a beautiful\nwoman lying as dead, and beside her a living infant. You were that\nchild. They brought you to the palace, and I adopted you as my son,\nand left my baby in your stead.\" \"What became of my mother?\" he asked.\n\"I cannot tell,\" answered the Ranee; \"for, two days afterward, when I\nsent to the same place, she and the baby had both disappeared, and I\nhave never since heard of her.\"\n\nThe young Prince, on hearing this, said, \"There is in the head Malee's\nhouse a beautiful lady, whom the Malee's wife found in the jungle,\nfourteen years ago; that must be my mother. Let her be received here\nthis very day with all honour, for that is the only reparation that\ncan now be made to her.\"\n\nThe Ranee consented, and the young Prince went down to the Malee's\nhouse himself to fetch his mother to the palace.\n\nWith him he took a great retinue of people, and a beautiful palanquin\nfor her to go in, covered with rich trappings; also costly things for\nher to wear, and many jewels and presents for the good Malee's wife.\n\nWhen Panch-Phul Ranee had put on her son's gifts, and come out of the\nMalee's poor cottage to meet him, all the people said there had never\nbeen so royal-looking a queen. As gold and clear crystal are lovely,\nas mother-of-pearl is exquisitely fair and delicate-looking, so\nbeautiful, so fair, so delicate appeared Panch-Phul Ranee.\n\nHer son conducted her with much pomp and state to the palace, and did\nall in his power to honour her; and there she lived long, very\nhappily, and beloved by all.\n\nOne day the young Prince begged her to tell him again, from the\nbeginning, the story of her life, and as much as she knew of his\nfather's life; and so she did. And after that, he said to her, \"Be no\nlonger sad, dear mother, regarding my father's fate; for I will send\ninto all lands to gather tidings of him, and maybe in the end we shall\nfind him.\" And he sent people out to hunt for the Rajah all over the\nkingdom, and in all neighbouring countries--to the north, to the\nsouth, to the east and to the west--but they found him not.\n\nAt last, after four years of unsuccessful search, when there seemed no\nhope of ever learning what had become of him, Panch-Phul Ranee's son\ncame to see her, and said, \"Mother, I have sent into all lands seeking\nmy father, but can hear no news of him. If there were only the\nslightest clue as to the direction in which he went, there would still\nbe some chance of tracing him, but that, I fear, cannot be got. Do you\nnot remember his having said anything of the way which he intended to\ngo when he left you?\" She answered, \"When your father went away, his\nwords to me were, 'I will go to fetch food for us both, and fire to\ncook it with, and inquire what this country is, and seek out a place\nof shelter for you. Do not be afraid--I shall soon return.' That was\nall he said, and then he went away, and I never saw him more.\"\n\n\"In what direction did he go from the foot of the garden?\" asked the\nPrince. \"He went,\" answered the Panch-Phul Ranee, \"toward that village\nof conjurors close by. I thought he was intending to ask some of them\nto give us food. But had he done so, he would certainly have returned\nin a very short time.\"\n\n\"Do you think you should know my father, mother darling, if you were\nto see him again?\" asked the Prince. \"Yes,\" answered she, \"I should\nknow him again.\" \"What!\" he said, \"even when eighteen years have gone\nby since you saw him last? Even though age and sickness and want had\ndone their utmost to change him?\" \"Yes!\" she replied; \"his every\nfeature is so impressed on my heart that I should know him again\nanywhere or in any disguise.\"\n\n\"Then let us,\" he said, \"send for all those people in the direction of\nwhose houses he went away. Maybe they have detained him among them to\nthis day. It is but a chance, but we can hope for nothing more\ncertain.\"\n\nSo the Panch-Phul Ranee and her son sent down orders to the conjurors'\nvillage that every one of the whole band should come up to the palace\nthat afternoon--not a soul was to stay behind. And the dancers were to\ndance and the conjurors to play all their tricks for the amusement of\nthe palace inmates.\n\nThe people came. The nautch girls began to dance--running, jumping,\nand flying here, there and everywhere, some up, some down, some round\nand round. The conjurors conjured and all began in different ways to\namuse the company. Among the rest was one wild, ragged-looking man,\nwhose business was to beat the drum. No sooner did the Panch-Phul\nRanee set eyes on him than she said to her son, \"Boy, that is your\nfather!\" \"What, mother!\" he said, \"that wretched-looking man who is\nbeating the drum?\" \"The same,\" she answered.\n\nThe Prince said to his servants, \"Fetch that man here.\" And the Rajah\ncame toward them, so changed that not even his own mother knew him--no\none recognized him but his wife. For eighteen years he had been among\nthe nautch people; his hair was rough, his; beard untrimmed, his face\nthin and worn, sunburnt and wrinkled; he wore a nose-ring and heavy\nearrings, such as the nautch people have; and his dress was a rough,\ncommon cumlee. All traces of his former self seemed to have\ndisappeared. They asked him if he did not remember he had been a Rajah\nonce, and about his journey to Panch-Phul Ranee's country. But he\nsaid, No, he remembered nothing but how to beat the drum--Rub-a-dub!\ntat-tat! tom-tum! tom-tum! He thought he must have beaten it all his\nlife.\n\nThen the young Prince gave orders that all the nautch people should be\nput into jail until it could be discovered what part they had taken in\nreducing his father to so pitiable a state. And sending for the wisest\ndoctors in the kingdom, he said to them, \"Do your best and restore the\nhealth of this Rajah, who has to all appearance lost both memory and\nreason; and discover, if possible, what has caused these misfortunes\nto befall him.\" The doctors said, \"He has certainly had some potent\ncharm given to him, which has destroyed both his memory and reason,\nbut we will do our best to counteract its influence.\"\n\nAnd so they did. And their treatment succeeded so well that, after a\ntime, the Rajah entirely recovered his former senses. And they took\nsuch good care of him that in a little while he regained his health\nand strength also, and looked almost as well as ever.\n\nHe then found to his surprise that he, Panch-Phul Ranee, and their\nson, had all this time been living in his father's kingdom. His father\nwas so delighted to see him again that he was no longer unkind to him,\nbut treated him as a dearly beloved, long lost son. His mother also\nwas overjoyed at his return, and they said to him, \"Since you have\nbeen restored to us again, why should you wander any more? Your wife\nand son are here; do you also remain here, and live among us for the\nrest of your days.\" But he replied, \"I have another wife--the\nCarpenter's daughter--who first was kind to me in my adopted country.\nI also have there nine hundred and ninety-eight talking wooden\nparrots, which I greatly prize. Let me first go and fetch them.\"\n\nThey said, \"Very well; go quickly and then return.\" So he mounted the\ntwo wooden parrots which had brought him from the Panch-Phul Ranee's\ncountry (and which had for eighteen years lived in the jungle close to\nthe palace), and returned to the land where his first wife lived, and\nfetched her and the nine hundred and ninety-eight remaining wooden\nparrots to his father's kingdom. Then his father said to him, \"Don't\nhave any quarrelling with your half-brother after I am dead\" (for his\nhalf-brother was son of the old Rajah's favourite wife). \"I love you\nboth dearly, and will give each of you half of my kingdom.\" So he\ndivided the kingdom into two halves, and gave the one-half to the\nPanch-Phul Ranee's husband, who was the son of his first wife, and the\nother half to the eldest son of his second but favourite wife.\n\nA short time after this arrangement was made, Panch-Phul Ranee said to\nher husband, \"I wish to see my father and mother again before I die;\nlet me go and see them.\" He answered, \"You shall go, and I and our son\nwill also go.\" So he called four of the wooden parrots--two to carry\nhimself and the Ranee, and two to carry their son. Each pair of\nparrots crossed their wings; the young Prince sat upon the two wings\nof one pair; and on the wings of the other pair sat his father and\nmother. Then they all rose up in the air, and the parrots carried them\n(as they had before carried the Rajah alone), up, up, up, on, on, on,\nover the Red Sea, and across the seven seas, until they reached the\nPanch-Phul Ranee's country.\n\nPanch-Phul Ranee's father saw them come flying through the air as\nquickly as shooting stars, and much wondering who they were, he sent\nout many of his nobles and chief officers to inquire.\n\nThe nobles went out to meet them, and called out, \"What great Rajah is\nthis who is dressed so royally, and comes flying through the air so\nfast? Tell us, that we may tell our Rajah.\"\n\nThe Rajah answered, \"Go and tell your master that this is Panch-Phul\nRanee's husband, come to visit his father-in-law.\" So they took that\nanswer back to the palace, but when the Rajah heard it, he said, \"I\ncannot tell what this means, for the Panch-Phul Ranee's husband died\nlong ago. It is twenty years since he fell upon the iron spears and\ndied; let us, however, all go and discover who this great Rajah really\nis.\" And he and all his court went out to meet the new-comers, just as\nthe parrots had alighted close to the palace gate. The Panch-Phul\nRanee took her son by the one hand and her husband by the other, and\nwalking to meet her father, said, \"Father, I have come to see you\nagain. This is my husband who died, and this boy is my son.\" Then all\nthe land was glad to see the Panch-Phul Ranee back, and the people\nsaid, \"Our Princess is the most beautiful Princess in the world, and\nher husband is as handsome as she is, and her son is a fair boy; we\nwill that they should always live among us and reign over us.\"\n\nWhen they had rested a little, the Panch-Phul Ranee told her father\nand mother the story of all her adventures from the time she and her\nhusband were left in the palkees in the jungle. And when they had\nheard it, her father said to the Rajah, her husband, \"You must never\ngo away again; for see, I have no son but you. You and your son must\nreign here after me. And behold, all this great kingdom will I now\ngive you, if you will only stay with us; for I am old and weary of\ngoverning the land.\"\n\nBut the Rajah answered, \"I must return once again to my own country,\nand then I will stay with you as long as I live.\"\n\nSo, leaving the Panch-Phul Ranee and her son with the old Rajah and\nRanee, he mounted his parrots and once more returned to his father's\nland. And when he had reached it, he said to his mother, \"Mother, my\nfather-in-law has given me a kingdom ten thousand times larger than\nthis. So I have but returned to bid you farewell and fetch my first\nwife, and then I must go back to live in that other land.\" She\nanswered, \"Very well; so you are happy anywhere, I am happy, too.\"\n\nHe then said to his half-brother, \"Brother, my father-in-law has given\nme all the Panch-Phul Ranee's country, which is very far away;\ntherefore I give up to you the half of this kingdom that my father\ngave to me.\" Then, bidding his father farewell, he took the\nCarpenter's daughter back with him (riding through the air on two of\nthe wooden parrots, and followed by the rest) to the Panch-Phul\nRanee's country, and there he and his two wives and his son lived very\nhappily all their mortal days.\n\n\n\n\n_Schippeitaro_\n\n\nLong, long ago, in the days of fairies and giants, ogres, and dragons,\nvaliant knights and distressed damsels; in those good old days, a\nbrave young warrior went out into the wide world in search of\nadventures.\n\nFor some time he went on without meeting with anything out of the\ncommon, but at length, after journeying through a thick forest, he\nfound himself, one evening, on a wild and lonely mountain side. No\nvillage was in sight, no cottage, not even the hut of a charcoal\nburner, so often to be found on the outskirts of the forest. He had\nbeen following a faint and much overgrown path, but at length, even\nthat was lost sight of. Twilight was coming on, and in vain he strove\nto recover the lost track. Each effort seemed only to entangle him\nmore hopelessly in the briers and tall grasses which grew thickly on\nall sides. Faint and weary he stumbled on in the fast gathering\ndarkness, until suddenly he came upon a little temple, deserted and\nhalf ruined, but which still contained a shrine. Here at least was\nshelter from the chilly dews, and here he resolved to pass the night.\nFood he had none, but, wrapped in his mantle, and with his good sword\nby his side, he lay down, and was soon fast asleep.\n\nToward midnight he was awakened by a dreadful noise, At first he\nthought it must be a dream, but the noise continued, the whole place\nresounding with the most terrible shrieks and yells. The young warrior\nraised himself cautiously, and seizing his sword, looked through a\nhole in the ruined wall. He beheld a strange and awful sight. A troop\nof hideous cats were engaged in a wild and horrible dance, their yells\nmeanwhile echoing through the night. Mingled with their unearthly\ncries the young warrior could clearly distinguish the words:\n\n    Tell it not to Schippeitaro!\n      Listen for his bark!\n    Tell it not to Schippeitaro!\n      Keep it close and dark!\n\nA beautiful clear full moon shed its light upon this grew-some scene,\nwhich the young warrior watched with amazement and horror. Suddenly,\nthe midnight hour being passed, the phantom cats disappeared, and all\nwas silence once more. The rest of the night passed undisturbed, and\nthe young warrior slept soundly until morning. When he awoke the sun\nwas already up, and he hastened to leave the scene of last night's\nadventure. By the bright morning light he presently discovered traces\nof a path which the evening before had been invisible. This he\nfollowed, and found to his great joy, that it led, not as he had\nfeared, to the forest through which he had come the day before, but in\nthe opposite direction, toward an open plain. There he saw one or two\nscattered cottages, and, a little farther on, a village. Pressed by\nhunger, he was making the best of his way toward the village, when he\nheard the tones of a woman's voice loud in lamentation and entreaty.\nNo sooner did these sounds of distress reach the warrior's ears, than\nhis hunger was forgotten, and he hurried on to the nearest cottage, to\nfind out what was the matter, and if he could give any help. The\npeople listened to his questions, and shaking their heads sorrowfully,\ntold him that all help was vain. \"Every year,\" said they, \"the\nmountain spirit claims a victim. The time has come, and this very\nnight will he devour our loveliest maiden. This is the cause of the\nwailing and lamentation.\" And when the young warrior, filled with\nwonder, inquired further, they told him that at sunset the victim\nwould be put into a sort of cage, carried to that very ruined temple\nwhere he had passed the night, and there left alone. In the morning\nshe would have vanished. So it was each year, and so it would be now;\nthere was no help for it. As he listened, the young warrior was filled\nwith an earnest desire to deliver the maiden. And, the mention of the\nruined shrine having brought back to his mind the adventure of the\nnight before, he asked the people whether they had ever heard the name\nof Schippeitaro, and who and what he was. \"Schippeitaro is a strong\nand beautiful dog,\" was the reply; \"he belongs to the head man of our\nPrince who lives only a little way from here. We often see him\nfollowing his master; he is a fine, brave fellow.\" The young knight\ndid not stop to ask more questions, but hurried off to Schippeitaro's\nmaster and begged him to lend his dog for one night. At first the man\nwas unwilling, but at length agreed to lend Schippeitaro on condition\nthat he should be brought back the next day. Overjoyed, the young\nwarrior led the dog away.\n\nNext he went to see the parents of the unhappy maiden, and told them\nto keep her in the house and watch her carefully until his return. He\nthen placed the dog Schippeitaro in the cage which had been prepared\nfor the maiden; and, with the help of some of the young men of the\nvillage, carried it to the ruined temple, and there set it down. The\nyoung men refused to stay one moment on that haunted spot, but hurried\ndown the mountain as if the whole troop of hobgoblins had been at\ntheir heels. The young warrior, with no companion but the dog,\nremained to see what would happen. At midnight, when the full moon was\nhigh in the heaven, and shed her light over the mountain, came the\nphantom cats once more. This time they had in their midst a huge black\ntom-cat, fiercer and more terrible than all the rest, which the young\nwarrior had no difficulty in knowing as the frightful mountain fiend\nhimself. No sooner did this monster catch sight of the cage than he\ndanced and sprang round it, with yells of triumph and hideous joy,\nfollowed by his companions. When he had long enough jeered at and\ntaunted his victim, he threw open the door of the cage.\n\nBut this time he met his match. The brave Schippeitaro sprang upon\nhim, and seizing him with his teeth, held him fast, while the young\nwarrior with one stroke of his good sword laid the monster dead at\nhis feet. As for the other cats, too much astonished to fly, they\nstood gazing at the dead body of their leader, and were made short\nwork of by the knight and Schippeitaro. The young warrior brought back\nthe brave dog to his master, with a thousand thanks, told the father\nand mother of the maiden that their daughter was free, and the people\nof the village that the fiend had claimed his last victim and would\ntrouble them no more. \"You owe all this to the brave Schippeitaro,\" he\nsaid as he bade them farewell, and went his way in search of fresh\nadventures.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *","title":"Tales of Wonder Every Child Should Know","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":131976}