{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_25513/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_25513","id":"gutenberg_25513","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/25513","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Fairy tales"],"text":"Produced by David Edwards, Josephine Paolucci and the\nOnline Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net.\n(This file was produced from images generously made\navailable by The Internet Archive.)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nEDMUND DULAC'S\n\nFAIRY-BOOK\n\n\n[Illustration: SNEGOROTCHKA\n\nThe daintiest, prettiest little maiden they had ever seen.\n\n_See page 2_]\n\n\n\n\nEDMUND DULAC'S\nFAIRY-BOOK\n\nFAIRY TALES\nOF THE\nALLIED\nNATIONS\n\nNEW YORK\nGEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY\n\nEDMUND DULAC'S FAIRY-BOOK\n\n--HC--\n\nPRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n                                                      PAGE\n\nSNEGOROTCHKA:\nA RUSSIAN FAIRY TALE                                     1\n\nTHE BURIED MOON:\nAN ENGLISH FAIRY TALE                                    7\n\nWHITE CAROLINE AND BLACK CAROLINE:\nA FLEMISH FAIRY TALE                                    15\n\nTHE SEVEN CONQUERORS OF THE QUEEN OF THE MISSISSIPPI:\nA BELGIAN FAIRY TALE                                    23\n\nTHE SERPENT PRINCE:\nAN ITALIAN FAIRY TALE                                   31\n\nTHE HIND OF THE WOOD:\nA FRENCH FAIRY TALE                                     45\n\nIVAN AND THE CHESTNUT HORSE:\nA RUSSIAN FAIRY TALE                                    63\n\nTHE QUEEN OF THE MANY-COLOURED BEDCHAMBER:\nAN IRISH FAIRY TALE                                     73\n\nTHE BLUE BIRD:\nA FRENCH FAIRY TALE                                     81\n\nBASHTCHELIK (OR, REAL STEEL):\nA SERBIAN FAIRY TALE                                    95\n\nTHE FRIAR AND THE BOY:\nAN ENGLISH FAIRY TALE                                  119\n\nTHE GREEN SERPENT:\nA FRENCH FAIRY TALE                                    129\n\nURASHIMA TARO:\nA JAPANESE FAIRY TALE                                  145\n\nTHE FIRE BIRD:\nA RUSSIAN FAIRY TALE                                   159\n\nTHE STORY OF THE BIRD FENG:\nA CHINESE FAIRY TALE                                   171\n\n\nILLUSTRATIONS\n\nSNEGOROTCHKA\nA RUSSIAN FAIRY TALE\n\nThe daintiest, prettiest little maiden they had ever seen  _Frontispiece_\n\n                                                                    PAGE\n\nTHE BURIED MOON\nAN ENGLISH FAIRY TALE\n\nIn her frantic struggles the hood of her cloak fell back from\nher dazzling golden hair, and immediately the whole place was\nflooded with light                                                     8\n\n\nWHITE CAROLINE AND BLACK CAROLINE\nA FLEMISH FAIRY TALE\n\nAnd, when he saw White Caroline, he started to play on his organ the\nmost beautiful airs that it was possible to hear, and the three\nlittle dogs commenced to dance together                               16\n\n\nTHE SEVEN CONQUERORS OF THE QUEEN OF THE MISSISSIPPI\nA BELGIAN FAIRY TALE\n\n'Hi! friend! Take the whole castle, with the Queen and all that it\ncontains, on your shoulders!'                                         24\n\n\nTHE SERPENT PRINCE\nAN ITALIAN FAIRY TALE\n\nWhen Grannmia saw her strange lover, she alone remained calm and\ncourageous                                                            32\n\n\nTHE HIND OF THE WOOD\nA FRENCH FAIRY TALE\n\nGiroflee thanked the fairy and went ... far into the wood; and there,\nsure enough, she saw a hut and an old woman sitting outside           56\n\n\nIVAN AND THE CHESTNUT HORSE\nA RUSSIAN FAIRY TALE\n\nThe chestnut horse seemed to linger in the air at the top of its leap\nwhile that kiss endured                                               64\n\n\nTHE BLUE BIRD\nA FRENCH FAIRY TALE\n\nThe Prince took a carriage drawn by three great frogs with great big\nwings.... Truitonne came out mysteriously by a little door            88\n\n\nBASHTCHELIK (OR, REAL STEEL)\nA SERBIAN FAIRY TALE\n\nThe Prince, looking out, saw him snatch up the Princess ... and\nsoar rapidly away                                                    104\n\nThe Palace of the Dragon King                                        112\n\n\nTHE FRIAR AND THE BOY\nAN ENGLISH FAIRY TALE\n\nThe Friar, bound fast to the post, squirmed and wriggled, showing\nplainly that he would foot it if he could                            128\n\n\nTHE GREEN SERPENT\nA FRENCH FAIRY TALE\n\nLaideronnette kissed and embraced the good Fairy Protectress         144\n\n\nURASHIMA TARO\nA JAPANESE FAIRY TALE\n\nUrashima was so enchanted that he could not speak a word             152\n\n\nTHE FIRE BIRD\nA RUSSIAN FAIRY TALE\n\nThere he found the Princess asleep, and saw that her face was the face\nhe had seen in the portrait                                          160\n\nWith a scream the Princess rushed forward, and, before her wicked\nsister could prevent her, she had upset the cauldron with a crash    168\n\n\nTHE STORY OF THE BIRD FENG\nA CHINESE FAIRY TALE\n\nThe wonderful bird, like a fire of many colours come down from heaven,\nalighted before the Princess, dropping at her feet the portrait      172\n\n\n\n\nSNEGOROTCHKA\n\nA RUSSIAN FAIRY TALE\n\n\nThe old wife sang merrily as she sat in the inglenook stirring the soup,\nfor she had never felt so sad. Many, many years had come and gone,\nleaving the weight of their winters on her shoulders and the touch of\nsnow on her hair without ever bringing her a little child. This made her\nand her dear old husband very sad, for there were many children outside,\nplaying in the snow. It seemed hard that not even one among them was\ntheir very own. But alas! there was no hope for such a blessing now.\nNever would they see a little fur cap hanging on the corner of the\nmantelpiece, nor two little shoes drying by the fire.\n\nThe old husband brought in a bundle of wood and set it down. Then, as he\nheard the children laughing and clapping their hands outside, he looked\nout at the window. There they were, dancing with glee round a snow man\nthey had made. He smiled as he saw that it was evidently meant to look\nlike the Mayor of the village, it was so fat and pompous.\n\n'Look, Marusha!' he cried to the old wife. 'Come and see the snow man\nthey've made.'\n\nAs they stood together at the window, they laughed to see what fun the\nchildren got out of it. Suddenly the old man turned to her with a bright\nidea.\n\n'Let's go out and see if _we_ can't make a little snow man.'\n\nBut Marusha laughed at him. 'What would the neighbours say? They would\npoke fun at us; it'd be the joke of the village. Besides, we're too old\nto play like children.'\n\n'But only a little one, Marusha; only a teeny-weeny little snow\nman,--and I'll manage it that nobody sees us.'\n\n'Well, well,' she said, laughing; 'have your own way, as you always did,\nYoushko.'\n\nWith this she took the pot from the fire, put on her bonnet, and they\nwent out together. As they passed the children, they stopped to play\nwith them a while, for they now felt almost like children themselves.\nThen they trudged on through the snow till they came to a clump of\ntrees, and, behind this, where the snow was nice and white, and nobody\ncould see them, they set to work to make their little man.\n\nThe old husband insisted that it must be very small, and the old wife\nagreed that it should be almost as small as a new-born babe. Kneeling\ndown in the snow, they fashioned the little body in next to no time. Now\nthere remained only the head to finish. Two fat handfuls of snow for the\ncheeks and face, and a big one on top for the head. Then they put on a\nwee dab for the nose and poked two holes, one on each side, for the\neyes.\n\nIt was soon done, and they were already standing back looking at it, and\nlaughing and clapping their hands like children. Then suddenly they\nstopped. What had happened? A very strange thing indeed! Out of the two\nholes they saw looking at them two wistful blue eyes. Then the face of\nthe little snow man was no longer white. The cheeks became rounded and\nsmooth and radiant, and two rosy lips began to smile up at them. A\nbreath of wind brushed the snow from the head, and it all fell down\nround the shoulders in flaxen ringlets escaping from a white fur cap. At\nthe same time some snow, loosened from the little body, fell down and\ntook the shape of a pretty white garment. Then, suddenly, before they\ncould open and shut their mouths, their snow mannikin was gone, and in\nhis place stood the daintiest, prettiest little maiden they had ever\nseen.\n\nThey gave each other a look out of the corners of their eyes, and\nscratched their heads in wonderment. But it was as true as true. There\nstood the little girl, all pink and white before them. She was really\nalive, for she ran to them; and, when they stooped down to lift her up,\nshe put one arm round the old wife's neck and the other round the old\nman's, and gave them each a hug and a kiss.\n\nThey laughed and cried for joy; then, suddenly remembering how real some\ndreams can seem, they pinched each other in turn. Still they were not\nsure, for the pinches might have been a part of the dream. So, in fear\nlest they might wake and spoil the whole thing, they wrapped the little\ngirl up quickly and hastened back home.\n\nOn the way they met the children, still playing round their snow man;\nand the snowballs with which they pelted them in the back were very\nreal; but there again, the snowballs might have belonged to the dream.\nBut when they were inside the house, and saw the inglenook, with the\nsoup in the pot by the fire and the bundle of wood near by, and\neverything just as they had left it, they looked at each other with\ntears in their eyes and no longer feared that it was all a dream. In\nanother minute there was a little white fur cap hanging on the corner of\nthe mantelpiece and two little shoes drying by the fire, while the old\nwife took the little girl on her lap and crooned a lullaby over her.\n\nThe old man put his hand on his wife's shoulder and she looked up.\n\n'Marusha!'\n\n'Youshko!'\n\n'At last we have a little girl! We made her out of the snow, so we will\ncall her Snegorotchka.'\n\nThe old wife nodded her head, and then they kissed each other. When they\nhad all had supper, they went to bed, the old husband and wife feeling\nsure that they would wake early in the morning to find the child still\nwith them. And they were not disappointed. There she was, sitting up\nbetween them, prattling and laughing. But she had grown bigger, and her\nhair was now twice as long as at first. When she called them 'Little\nFather' and 'Little Mother' they were so delighted that they felt like\ndancing as nimbly as they had in their young days. But, instead of\ndancing, they just kissed each other, and wept for joy.\n\nThat day they held a big feast. The old wife was busy all the morning\ncooking all kinds of dainties, while the old man went round the village\nand collected the fiddlers. All the boys and girls of the village were\ninvited, and they ate and sang and danced and had a merry time till\ndaybreak. As they went home, the girls all talked at once about how much\nthey had enjoyed themselves, but the boys were very silent;--they were\nthinking of the beautiful Snegorotchka with the blue eyes and the golden\nhair.\n\nEvery day after that Snegorotchka played with the other children, and\ntaught them how to make castles and palaces of snow, with marble halls\nand thrones and beautiful fountains. The snow seemed to let her do\nwhatever she liked with it, and to build itself up under her tiny\nfingers as if it knew exactly what shape it was to take. They were all\ngreatly delighted with the wonderful things she made; but when she\nshowed them how to dance as the snowflakes do, first in a brisk whirl,\nand then softly and lightly, they could think of nothing else but\nSnegorotchka. She was the little fairy queen of the children, the\ndelight of the older people, and the very breath of life to old Marusha\nand Youshko.\n\nAnd now the winter months moved on. With slow and steady stride they\nwent from mountain top to mountain top, around the circle of the\nsky-line. The earth began to clothe itself in green. The great trees,\nholding out their naked arms like huge babies waiting to be dressed,\nwere getting greener and greener, and last year's birds sat in their\nbranches singing this year's songs. The early flowers shed their perfume\non the breeze, and now and then a waft of warm air, straying from its\nsummer haunts, caressed the cheek and breathed a glowing promise in the\near. The forests and the fields were stirring. A beautiful spirit\nbrooded over the face of nature;--spring was trembling on the leash and\ntugging to be free.\n\nOne afternoon Marusha was sitting in the inglenook stirring the soup\nand singing a mournful song, because she had never felt so full of joy.\nThe old man Youshko had just brought in a bundle of wood and laid it on\nthe hearth. It seemed just the same as on that winter's afternoon when\nthey saw the children dancing round their snow man; but what made all\nthe difference was Snegorotchka, the apple of their eye, who now sat by\nthe window, gazing out at the green grass and the budding trees.\n\nYoushko had been looking at her; he had noticed that her face was pale\nand her eyes a shade less blue than usual. He grew anxious about her.\n\n'Are you not feeling well, Snegorotchka?' he asked.\n\n'No, Little Father,' she replied sadly. 'I miss the white snow,--oh! so\nmuch; the green grass is not half as beautiful. I wish the snow would\ncome again.'\n\n'Oh! yes; the snow will come again,' replied the old man. 'But don't you\nlike the leaves on the trees and the blossoms and the flowers, my\ndarling?'\n\n'They are not so beautiful as the pure, white snow.' And Snegorotchka\nshuddered.\n\nThe next day she looked so pale and sad that they were alarmed, and\nglanced at one another anxiously.\n\n'What ails the child?' said Marusha.\n\nYoushko shook his head and looked from Snegorotchka to the fire, and\nthen back again.\n\n'My child,' he said at last, 'why don't you go out and play with the\nothers? They are all enjoying themselves among the flowers in the\nforest; but I've noticed you never play with them now. Why is it, my\ndarling?'\n\n'I don't know, Little Father, but my heart seems to turn to water when\nthe soft warm wind brings the scent of the blossoms.'\n\n'But we will come with you, my child,' said the old man. 'I will put my\narm about you and shield you from the wind. Come, we will show you all\nthe pretty flowers in the grass, and tell you their names, and you will\njust love them,--all of them.'\n\nSo Marusha took the pot off the fire and then they all went out\ntogether, Youshko with his arm round Snegorotchka to shield her from the\nwind. But they had not gone far when the warm perfume of the flowers was\nwafted to them on the breeze, and the child trembled like a leaf. They\nboth comforted her and kissed her, and then they went on towards the\nspot where the flowers grew thickly in the grass. But, as they passed a\nclump of big trees, a bright ray of sunlight struck through like a dart\nand Snegorotchka put her hand over her eyes and gave a cry of pain.\n\nThey stood still and looked at her. For a moment, as she drooped upon\nthe old man's arm, her eyes met theirs; and on her upturned face were\nswiftly running tears which sparkled in the sunlight as they fell. Then,\nas they watched her, she grew smaller and smaller, until, at last, all\nthat was left of Snegorotchka was a little patch of dew shining on the\ngrass. One tear-drop had fallen into the cup of a flower. Youshko\ngathered that flower--very gently--and handed it to Marusha without a\nword.\n\nThey both understood now. Their darling was just a little girl made of\nsnow, and she had melted away in the warmth of the sunlight.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BURIED MOON\n\nAN ENGLISH FAIRY TALE\n\n\nIn my old Granny's days, long, long--oh, so long ago, Carland was just a\ncollection of bogs. Pools of black water lay in the hollows, and little\ngreen rivulets scurried away here and there like long lizards trying to\nescape from their tails, while every tuft that you trod upon would\nsquirt up at you like anything. Oh! it _was_ a nice place to be in on a\ndark night, I give you my word.\n\nNow, I've heard my Granny say that a long time before her day the Moon\ngot trapped and buried in the bog. I'll tell you the tale as she used to\ntell it to me.\n\nOn some nights the beautiful Moon rose up in the sky and shone brighter\nand brighter, and the people blessed her because by her wonderful light\nthey could find their way home at night through the treacherous bogs.\nBut on other nights she did not come, and then it was so dark that the\ntraveller could not find his way; and, besides, the Evil Things that\nfeared the light--toads and creepy, crawly things, to say nothing of\nBogles and Little Bad People--came out in the darkness to do all the\nharm they could, for they hated the people and were always trying to\nlead them astray. Many a poor man going home in the dark had been\nenticed by these malevolent things into quicksands and mud pools. When\nthe Moon was away and the night was black, these vile creatures had\ntheir will.\n\nWhen the Moon learned about this, she was very grieved, for she is a\nsweet, kind body, who spends nights without sleep, so as to show a light\nfor people going home. She was troubled about it all, and said to\nherself, 'I'll just go down and see how matters stand.'\n\nSo, when the dark end of the month came round, she stepped down out of\nthe sky, wrapped from head to foot in her black travelling cloak with\nthe hood drawn over her bright golden hair. For a moment she stood at\nthe edge of the marshes, looking this way and that. Everywhere, as far\nas she could see, was the dismal bog, with pools of black water, and\ngnarled, fantastic-looking snags sticking up here and there amid the\ndank growth of weeds and grasses. There was no light save the feeble\nglimmer of the stars reflected in the gloomy pools; but, upon the grass\nwhere she stood, a bright ring of moonlight shone from her feet beneath\nher cloak.\n\nShe saw this and drew her garments closer about her. It was cold, and\nshe was trembling. She feared that vast expanse of bog and its evil\ncreatures, but she was determined to face the matter out and see exactly\nhow the thing stood.\n\nGuided by the light that streamed from her feet, she advanced into the\nbog. As the summer wind stirs one tussock after another, so she stepped\nonward between the slimy ponds and deadly quagmires. Now she reached a\njet-black pool, and all too late she saw the stars shining in its\ndepths. Her foot tripped and all she could do was to snatch at an\noverhanging branch of a snag as she fell forward. To this she clung,\nbut, fast as she gripped it, faster still some tendrils from the bough\nwhipped round her wrists like manacles and held her there a prisoner.\nShe struggled and wrenched and tugged with all her might and main, but\nthe tendrils only tightened and cut into her wrists like steel bands.\n\n[Illustration: THE BURIED MOON\n\nIn her frantic struggles the hood of her cloak fell back from her\ndazzling golden hair, and immediately the whole place was flooded with\nlight.\n\n_See page 9_]\n\nAs she stood there shivering in the dark and wondering how to free\nherself, she heard far away in the bog a voice calling through the\nnight. It was a wailing cry, dying away in despair. She listened and\nlistened, and the repeated cry came nearer; then she heard\nfootsteps--halting, stumbling and slipping. At last, by the dim light of\nthe stars, she saw a haggard, despairing face with fearful eyes; and\nthen she knew it was a poor man who had lost his way and was floundering\non to his death. Now he caught sight of a gleam of light from the\ncaptive Moon, and made his uncertain way towards it, thinking it meant\nhelp. As he came nearer and nearer the pool, the Moon saw that her light\nwas luring him to his death, and she felt so very sorry for him, and so\nangry with herself that she struggled fiercely at the cords that held\nher. It was all in vain, but, in her frantic struggles, the hood of her\ncloak fell back from her dazzling golden hair, and immediately the whole\nplace was flooded with light, which fell on muddy pools and quicks and\nquags, glinting on the twisted roots and making the whole place as clear\nas day.\n\nHow glad the wayfarer was to see the light! How pleased he was to see\nall the Evil Things of the dark scurrying back into their holes! He\ncould now find his way, and he made for the edge of the treacherous\nmarsh with such haste that he had not time to wonder at the strange\nthing that had happened. He did not know that the blessed light that\nshowed him his path to safety shone from the radiant hair of the Moon,\nbound fast to a snag and half buried in the bog. And the Moon herself\nwas so glad he was safe, that she forgot her own danger and need. But,\nas she watched him making good his escape from the terrible dangers of\nthe marshes, she was overcome by a great longing to follow him. This\nmade her tug and strain again like a demented creature, until she sank\nexhausted, but not free, in the mud at the foot of the snag. As she did\nso, her head fell forward on her breast, and the hood of her cloak again\ncovered her shining hair.\n\nAt that moment, just as suddenly as the light had shone out before, the\ndarkness came down with a swish, and all the vile things that loved it\ncame out of their hiding-places with a kind of whispering screech which\ngrew louder and louder as they swarmed abroad on the marshes. Now they\ngathered round the poor Moon, snarling and scratching at her and\nscreaming hateful mockeries at her. At last they had her in their\npower--their old foe whose light they could not endure; the Bright One\nwhose smile of light sent them scurrying away into their crevices and\ndefeated their fell designs.\n\n'Hell roast thee!' cried an ugly old witch-thing; 'thou'rt the\nmeddlesome body that spoils all our brews.'\n\n'Out on thee!' shrieked the bogle-bodies; 'if 'twere not for thee we'd\nhave the marsh to ourselves.'\n\nAnd there was a great clamour--as out-of-tune as out-of-tune could be.\nAll the things of darkness raised their harsh and cracked voices against\nthe Bright One of the sky. 'Ha, ha!' and 'Ho, ho!' and 'He, he!' mingled\nwith chuckles of fiendish glee, until it seemed as if the very trickles\nand gurgles of the bog were joining in the orgy of hate.\n\n'Burn her with corpse-lights!' yelled the witch.\n\n'Ha, ha! He, he!' came the chorus of evil creatures.\n\n'Truss her up and stifle her!' screamed the creeping things. 'Spin webs\nround her!' And the spiders of the night swarmed all over her.\n\n'Sting her to death!' said the Scorpion King at the head of his brood.\n\n'Ho, ho! He, he!' And, as each vile thing had something to say about it,\na horrible, screeching dispute arose, while the captive Moon crouched\nshuddering at the foot of the snag and gave herself up as lost.\n\nThe dim grey light of the early dawn found them still hissing and\nclawing and screeching at one another as to the best way to dispose of\nthe captive. Then, when the first rosy ray shot up from the Sun, they\ngrew afraid. Some scuttled away, but those who remained hastened to do\nsomething--anything that would smother the light of the Moon. The only\nthing they could think of now was to bury her in the mud,--bury her\ndeep. They were all agreed on this as the quickest way.\n\nSo they clutched her with skinny fingers and pushed her down into the\nblack mud beneath the water at the foot of the snag. When they had all\nstamped upon her, the bogle-bodies ran quickly and fetched a big black\nstone which they hurled on top of her to keep her down. Then the old\nwitch called two will-o'-the-wisps from the darkest part of the\nmarshes, and, when they came dancing and glancing above the pools and\nquicks, she bade them keep watch by the grave of the Moon, and, if she\ntried to get out, to sound an alarm.\n\nThen the horrid things crept away from the morning light, chuckling to\nthemselves over the funeral of the Moon, and only wishing they could\nbury the Sun in the same way; but that was a little too much to hope\nfor, and besides, all respectable Horrors of the Bog ought to be asleep\nin bed during the Sun's journey across the sky.\n\nThe poor Moon was now buried deep in the black mud, with a heavy stone\non top of her. Surely she could never again thwart their plans of evil,\nhatched and nurtured in the foul darkness of the quags. She was buried\ndeep; they had left no sign; who would know where to look for her?\n\nDay after day passed by until the time of the New Moon was eagerly\nlooked for by the good folk who dwelt around the marshes, for they knew\nthey had no friend like the Moon, whose light enabled them to find the\npathways through the bog-land, and drove away all the vile things into\ntheir dark holes and corners. So they put lucky pennies in their pouches\nand straws in their hats, and searched for the crescent Moon in the sky.\nBut evening twilight brought no Moon, which was not strange, for she was\nburied deep in the bog.\n\nThe nights were pitch dark, and the Horrors held frolic in the marshes\nand swarmed abroad in ever-increasing numbers, so that no traveller was\nsafe. The poor people were so frightened and dumbfounded at being\nforsaken by the friendly Moon, that some of them went to the old Wise\nWoman of the Mill and besought her to find out what was the matter.\n\nThe Wise Woman gazed long into her magic mirror, and then made a brew of\nherbs, into which she looked just as long, muttering words that nobody\nbut herself could understand.\n\n'It's very strange,' she said at last; 'but there's nought to say what\nhas become of her. I'll look again later on; meantime if ye do learn\nanything, let me know.'\n\nSo they went away more mystified than ever, and, as the following nights\nbrought no Moon, they could do nothing but stand about in groups in the\nstreets discussing the strange thing. The disappearance of the Moon was\nthe one topic. By the fireside, at the work-bench, in the inn and all\nabout, their tongues went nineteen to the dozen; and no wonder, for who\nhad ever heard of the Moon being lost, stolen or strayed?\n\nBut it chanced one day that a man from the other side of the marshes was\nsitting in the inn, smoking his pipe and listening to the talk of the\nother inmates, when all of a sudden he sat bolt upright, slapped his\nthigh and cried out, 'I' fegs! Now I mind where that there Moon be!'\n\nThen he told them how one night he had got lost in the marshes and was\nfrightened to death; how he went blundering on in the dark with all the\nEvil Things after him, and, at last, how a great bright light burst out\nof a pool and showed him the way to go.\n\nWhen they heard this they all took the shortest cut to the Wise Woman,\nand told her the man's story. After a long look in the mirror and the\npot, she wagged her head slowly and said, 'It's all dark, children. You\nsee, being as there's no Moon to conjure by, I can't tell ye where she's\ngone or what's made off with her--which same I could tell ye fine if she\nwas in her right place. But mebbe, if ye do what I'm going to tell ye,\nthen ye may hap on her yourselves. Listen now! Just before the darklings\ncome, each of ye take a stone in your mouth and a twig of the\nwitch-hazel in your hands, and go into the marshes without fear. Speak\nno word, for fear of your lives, but keep straight on till ye come to a\nspot where ye'll see a coffin with a cross and a candle on it. That's\nwhere ye'll find your Moon, I'm thinking, if ye're lucky.\n\nSo the next night as the dark began to fall they all trooped out into\nthe marshes, each with a stone in his mouth and a twig of the\nwitch-hazel in his hands. Never a word they spoke, but kept straight on;\nand, I'm telling you, there was not one among them but had the creeps\nand the starts. They could see nothing around them but bogs and pools\nand snags; but strange sighing whispers brushed past their ears, and\ncold wet hands sought theirs and tugged at the hazel twigs. But all at\nonce, while looking everywhere for the coffin with the cross and the\ncandle, they espied the big, strange stone, and it looked just like a\ncoffin; while at the head of it was a black cross formed by the branches\nof the snag, and on this cross flickered a tiny light just like a\ncandle.\n\nWhen they saw these things they all knew that what the Wise Woman had\ntold them was true: they were not far from their beloved Moon. But,\nbeing mighty feared of Bogles and the other Evil Things, they all went\ndown on their knees in the mud and said the Lord's Prayer, once\nforwards, in keeping with the cross, and once backwards to keep off the\nHorrors of the Darkness. All this they said in their minds, without\nsaying a word aloud, for they well knew what would happen to them if\nthey neglected the Wise Woman's advice.\n\nThen they rose up and laid hands on the great stone and heaved it up.\nAnd my Granny says, that as they did it, some of them saw, just for one\ntiddy-widdy little waste of a minute, the most beautiful face in the\nworld gazing up at them with wistful eyes like--like--I really can't\nremember how my Granny described them, but it was either 'pools of\ngratitude' or 'lakes of love.' At all events, this is exactly what\nhappened when the stone was rolled right over, and it was said so\nquickly that not one of them could describe it afterwards: 'Thanks,\nbrave folk! I shall never forget your kindness,' as the Moon stepped up\nout of the black pool into her place in the sky.\n\nThen they were all astonished beyond words, for, suddenly, all around\nwas the silver light, making the safe ways between the bogs as clear as\nday. There was a sudden rush of weird things to their lairs, and then\nall was still and bright. Looking up, they saw with delight the full\nMoon sailing in the sky and smiling down upon them. She was there to\nlight them home again. She was there to stampede the Evil Things--the\nBogles and the Bad Little People--back into their vile dens. And, as the\npeople looked around and wondered, it almost seemed to them that this\ntime she had killed the Horrors dead--never to come to life again.\n\n\n\n\nWHITE CAROLINE AND BLACK CAROLINE\n\nA FLEMISH FAIRY TALE\n\n    _Come, come, Caroline,\n    White, white, child o' mine!\n        I hate you, HATE you,\n        And, at any rate, you\n    Are no child o' mine!_\n\n    _Come, come, Caroline,\n    Black, black, child o' mine!\n        I bore you, adore you,\n        Will give whatever more you\n    Want, O child o' mine!_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a mother who had two daughters, both named\nCaroline. People called one 'White Caroline,' because she was so\nbeautiful. But her mother could not see it, because the child was not\nreally her own. The other was called 'Black Caroline' by the people,\nbecause she was so ugly. Black Caroline was the favourite of her mother,\nand received everything she could desire.\n\nNow one day it so happened that an old shepherd was passing by, and with\nhim he had three little lambs; and he smiled on seeing White Caroline,\nand he caressed her head, and the little lambs came close and rubbed\nthemselves against her little white dress. White Caroline was\nexceedingly pleased with all this. Now Black Caroline, standing on the\nwinding stairs, also wanted to see; and, coming to the door, she half\nopened it. But as soon as the old shepherd saw her face, he turned and\nstarted on his way, and the three little lambs bleated and beat their\nheads together, because Black Caroline was so ugly;--but she was good\nall the same!\n\nAnd their mother, in her heart, could not stand this, so she said:\n\n'_White Caroline must die, cost what it will!_'\n\nAnd so she thought and thought during seven days how she could get rid\nof White Caroline. Then, one day, she went behind a hedge and said:\n\n'Hedge, Thorn-hedge, give me a dozen deadly thorns, each one an inch\nlong!'\n\nAnd the hedge gave her a dozen deadly thorns, each thorn an inch long.\nThen their mother returned home, and showed them to Black Caroline.\n\n'Pay attention, Black Caroline,' she said; 'this evening when you go to\nbed you must sleep at the edge, and the inside place must be for White\nCaroline; because I am going to conceal all the little thorns in her\npillow; and she will die when she puts her head upon her pillow, and\nthen you, alone, shall be more than ever the pet child of your mother!'\n\n_And Black Caroline said, 'Very well!'_\n\nBut that evening, when White Caroline was about to get into bed, Black\nCaroline took her by the arm and said:\n\n'White Caroline, I love you very much; and you must not tell mother; but\nshe is trying to kill you. There are a dozen deadly thorns in your\npillow; go to sleep all the same, but we'll put our heads at the foot of\nthe bed!'\n\nAnd White Caroline, full of joy, took Black Caroline in her little arms\nand they slept together!'\n\nThe following morning they heard a rat-a-tat on the stairs.\n\n'Here! Black Caroline! Are you there?'\n\nIt was their mother calling from the bottom of the stairs.\n\n'Yes, my dear little mother, I am here!' said White Caroline.\n\nTheir mother was in a terrible rage because White Caroline was not dead.\nShe at once mounted the stairs to see if Black Caroline was alive. But\neven then she could not understand how it was that White Caroline was\nnot dead, and once again rage overcame her!\n\n[Illustration: WHITE CAROLINE AND BLACK CAROLINE\n\nAnd, when he saw White Caroline, he started to play on his organ the\nmost beautiful airs that it was possible to hear, and the three little\ndogs commenced to dance together.\n\n_See page 17_]\n\nNow it happened that one day a musician was passing by their house: and\nhe had with him three little dogs; and, when he saw White Caroline, he\nstarted to play on his organ the most beautiful airs that it was\npossible to hear, and the three little dogs commenced to dance together.\nWhite Caroline was exceedingly pleased! But Black Caroline, who was on\nthe winding stairs, came down and half opened the door because she\nwanted to see also. But, as soon as the musician saw the face of Black\nCaroline, he ceased to play, and the three little dogs hid their heads\nunder a sack because Black Caroline was so ugly--but she was also very\ngood.\n\nAnd their mother, in her heart, could not stand that, so she said:\n\n'_White Caroline must die, cost what it will!_'\n\nShe thought and thought during seven days how she could rid herself of\nWhite Caroline. At last she went to an old witch, and bought the most\nviolent poison that could be got.\n\nOn arriving home she called Black Caroline and said:\n\n'Pay attention, Black Caroline; when at dinner to-day, do not eat of the\nlittle meat-balls. Say you have a pain in your head; because I am going\nto put this poison in the meat, and then White Caroline will eat it, and\nshe will die; and then you will be more than ever the pet of your\nmother!'\n\n_And Black Caroline said, 'Very well!'_\n\nBut, at dinner time, when White Caroline was about to eat from her\nplate, she took her by the arm and said:\n\n'White Caroline, I love you very much, but you must not tell mother; she\nwishes your death, and she has put poison in your meat. Tell her that we\nwill eat our dinner outside the house, so that the cat may not eat the\nbirds and so that the crows may not eat the grain. Then you can throw\nyour portion away.'\n\nThen White Caroline, full of joy, took Black Caroline in her little arms\nand they went out together.\n\nA little while after they heard a rat-a-tat at the garden door.\n\n'Here! Black Caroline! Are you there?'\n\nIt was their mother calling from the inside of the house.\n\n'Yes, my dear little mother, I am here!' said White Caroline.\n\nAnd their mother was in a great rage because White Caroline was not\ndead. Then she went out to see if Black Caroline was still alive. And\nshe had still her plate full of meat, and she was shedding tears of\nblood, because she had such a bad headache. And their mother could not\nunderstand how it was that White Caroline was not dead, and she boiled\nwith rage.\n\nAnd one day it happened that a tradesman was passing the house with\nsweets and cakes in his van, and when he saw White Caroline, he showed\nher all the sweets and cakes and nuts. White Caroline was so happy,\nbecause the tradesman gave her nuts and sweets for nothing, just because\nshe was so pretty. But Black Caroline, who was coming down the winding\nstairs, came out to see.\n\nAs soon as the man saw Black Caroline, he mounted his van and drove away\nat full gallop, because she was so ugly--but she was good all the same.\n\nAnd her mother could not stand that, so she said:\n\n'_White Caroline must die, cost what it will!_'\n\nThen she went to an old miller and asked him if he could place the mill\nagainst four little sticks, so that whoever touched the mill it would\nfall on them and crush them. And the old miller said: 'Yes, it can be\ndone very well, and the mill will be placed thus in fourteen days. I\nwill see to it at once.'\n\nTheir mother was very pleased, and she showed Black Caroline how the\nmill would be placed, and said to her:\n\n'Pay attention, Black Caroline: when you go with the sack of flour to\nthe mill, you must let it drag and be overcome, before you arrive near\nthe little sticks that support the mill. White Caroline must take it all\nalone. As soon as she touches the little sticks she will be crushed by\nthe mill, and then you will be more than ever the pet of your mother!'\n\n_And Black Caroline said, 'Very well!'_\n\nBut the next day, when White Caroline walked near the little sticks,\nBlack Caroline stopped her and said:\n\n'White Caroline, I love you very much, and you must not tell mother;\nbut she intends that you shall die, and she has caused these little\nsticks to be placed like that, so that the mill will fall on you and\ncrush you. Throw the sack on the sticks--so!'\n\nAnd White Caroline, full of joy, took Black Caroline in her little arms,\nand so they went back. And it was well they did, for there were five\nlittle rats in that sack of flour, and all those five were killed when\nthe mill fell down.\n\nThen they heard a rat-a-tat, and the voice of their mother calling:\n'Here! Black Caroline! Are you there?'\n\n'Yes, little mother, I am here,' answered White Caroline.\n\nAnd the mother was very cross to find that White Caroline was not dead.\nAnd she ran quickly to the mill to see if Black Caroline was alive. And,\nwhen she came back and found her, she was crying tears of blood because\nshe ached in every limb and could not walk. And her mother could not\nunderstand how it was that White Caroline was not dead, and she boiled\nwith rage.\n\nShe took Black Caroline home and put her in her little bed. Then she set\nout to find White Caroline with intent to kill her; but White Caroline\nhad gone far away where her mother could not get at her.\n\nOn her journey she came to a great stretch of water and she could not\ncross over. But suddenly she saw many arms, as black as pitch, held out\nover the water so that they formed a bridge. White Caroline did not know\nwhether to pass over this bridge or to go back. She began to cry\nbitterly; then, plucking up courage, she made the sign of the cross and\nran upon them.\n\nWhen she came to the middle, the arms gave way, and White Caroline would\nhave been drowned had she not been held by the heels of her little\nwooden shoes. And the water-nymphs and vampires were all around her.\n\nThen, suddenly, a beautiful woman all in white came running to her aid.\nAnd, though the claws of the Evil Things were now pulling her down by\nthe heels of her little shoes, the White Woman was in time to save her\njust as she was on the point of being drowned.\n\nThen the White Woman turned to the water-nymphs and vampires:\n\n'Be still, all of you! Down to your dens, and say I sent ye!'\n\nThen she led White Caroline to the other side of the water. And there\nshe looked at her, and kissed her, and loved her as her own, because she\nwas so beautiful.\n\nThis White Woman was the Queen of all the water and the woods, and was\nable, in her domain, to grant anything that any one desired. In her\ngreat love for White Caroline, she told her that she could have whatever\nshe wished.\n\n'Would you like to eat some beautiful grapes, White Caroline?' said she.\nThen with her wand she tapped a vine, and behold, immediately there hung\nbeautiful grapes upon it!\n\n'Would you like a beautiful dress of silk, White Caroline?' And she\ntapped again with her little wand, and, immediately, from a chrysalis\nhanging from the vine, a lovely dress of sky-blue silk was unfolded\nbefore her, all ready to put on.\n\nAnd the nymphs and the vampires were more than ever afraid to come near\nWhite Caroline, and she was very glad of that indeed.\n\n'Would you like a voyage?' said the White Woman. And, immediately, with\na wave of her wand, she pointed it at a little nautilus sailing on the\nwater, and there, in another moment, stood a beautiful barque with all\nsail set. And so White Caroline had everything she could desire, and was\nvery happy.\n\nBut one day a King came by, and the sound of his trumpet rang over the\nlength of the water and through the woods. Quick--so quick--the White\nWoman ran to White Caroline and said to her:\n\n'White Caroline, the time has come, and we must part; and you will never\nsee me again. But, before I go, you can wish for two things; and\nwhatever you wish, it shall be granted you!'\n\nWith that the White Woman vanished.\n\nThen White Caroline wished to have Black Caroline with her. And\nimmediately there was a rustling among the trees, and Black Caroline\nstood beside her!\n\nThe two Carolines were now reunited. But White Caroline was sad because\nBlack Caroline was not as pretty as she herself, and, remembering the\nWhite Woman's promise, she resolved to wish that they might both be\nexactly the same.\n\nThen she wished that both of them should be changed into something\nexactly alike!\n\nImmediately they began to change. Little white feathers appeared on\ntheir shoulders and spread until they were entirely covered; and there\nthey stood together, two beautiful white swans! And ever after they swam\nup and down on the peaceful water and no one could tell one from the\nother. And never again did the nymphs and the vampires come near to harm\nthem.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SEVEN CONQUERORS OF THE QUEEN OF THE MISSISSIPPI\n\nA BELGIAN FAIRY TALE\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a boy who was ambitious. One day he said to\nhis mother: 'Give me a muffin and patch my trousers, for I am going to\nset out to win the Queen of the Mississippi.'\n\nSo the mother gave him a muffin and patched his trousers, and the boy\nwent off.\n\nHe had not gone very far when he came to a mountain path, on which was a\ngreat cross, beneath which stood a man holding a bow with an arrow fixed\non the string.\n\nThis man looked down at the boy as if to say, 'What are you doing here?'\n\nThe boy immediately answered his unspoken question by demanding, 'Hello,\nfriend! What are you doing there?'\n\n'You see that fly on that cross?' said the man, pointing to a minute\nspeck on one of its arms. 'Wait then, and watch me! I will put out one\nof its eyes.'\n\nWith this, while the boy watched, he drew his bow to the full, and let\nthe arrow fly.\n\nIt was a wonderful shot, for one of the eyes of the fly fell on the\nground at the foot of the cross.\n\nThe boy was so taken with this, that he seemed to grow two whole years\nin half a minute. To look at him, you would have thought he was no\nlonger a boy. He drew himself up proudly to his full height, and said in\nthe voice of a young man:\n\n'Will you travel with me, my pippy?'\n\n'Pardon?'\n\nThen it was question and answer between them:\n\n    _'Come, travel with me, my pippy.'\n      'Oh! Whither away? To old Mandalay?'\n    'But no; to the far Mississippi,\n      Where a beautiful Queen holds sway:\n      And I'll marry that Queen some day.'\n    'I am yours! And the bounty?'\n      'Give it a name: I will pay.'_\n\nThen the young man took his muffin, and, breaking off a little bit of\nit, handed it to the man with the bow and arrow.\n\n'Keep it,' said he; 'it's a pledge of good faith.'\n\nSo they journeyed on together. When they had gone some distance, they\ncame to a high field, and in the middle of this stood a man stock still,\ngazing at the sun. As soon as the young man saw him, he shouted out at\nthe top of his voice: 'Hi! What are you doing there, my good fellow?'\n\n'I am just waiting for it to get a little more dazzling,' replied the\nman, still keeping his eyes fixed on the midday sun.\n\nAs soon as the young man heard this he seemed to grow still more in\nstature. Indeed, he seemed to be almost a man.\n\n'Will you travel with me?' he said.\n\n'Pardon?'\n\nThen it was question and answer between them:\n\n    _'Come, travel with me, my pippy.'\n       'Oh! Whither away? To the land of Cathay?'\n     'But no; to the far Mississippi,\n        Where a beautiful Queen hath sway,\n        Who has stolen my heart away.'\n      'I am yours! And the bounty?'\n        'What you will: it's a pleasure to pay.'_\n\nThen the young man took his muffin, and, breaking off a little bit of\nit, handed it to the man who gazed at the sun.\n\n'Keep it,' said he; 'it's a pledge of good faith.'\n\n[Illustration: THE SEVEN CONQUERORS OF THE QUEEN OF THE MISSISSIPPI\n\n\"Hi! friend! Take the whole castle, with the Queen and all that it\ncontains, on your shoulders!\"\n\n_See page 29_]\n\nSo they journeyed on together. When they had gone some distance further,\nthey saw a man who had tied his legs together.\n\n'Hello! What are you doing there, my friend?'\n\n'I want to catch that hare over yonder; but unless I tied my legs\ntogether there would be no sport in it.'\n\n'Will you travel with me?'\n\n'Pardon?'\n\n    _'Will you travel with me, my pippy?'\n        'Oh! Whither away? To Botany Bay?'\n     'But no; to the far Mississippi,\n        Where a Queen--tooral-ooral-i-ay--\n        Is waiting for what I'm to say.\n     'I am yours! And the bounty?'\n        'Either here or in Botany Bay!'_\n\nThen the boy took his muffin, and, breaking off a little piece, handed\nit to him.\n\n'Keep it,' said he; 'it's a pledge of good faith.'\n\nSo they journeyed on together. But they had travelled scarce a league\nwhen they met a man who was carrying ten great trees in his arms. And\nwhen the boy, who had grown into a young man, saw this, he was\nimmediately full grown.\n\n'Hi! my friend! What are you doing there?'\n\n'My mother wants some wood,' replied the man, picking a few branches off\nthe trees and flinging them idly on the roadside, 'so I am just taking\nher some.'\n\n'Will you travel with me?'\n\n'Pardon?'\n\n    _'Will you travel with me, my pippy?'\n        'Oh! Whither away? To Rome or Pompeii?'\n      'But no; to the far Mississippi:\n        There's a Queen of great beauty that way,\n        And there's no one but Cupid to pay.'\n     'I am yours! And the bounty?'\n        'Name your price: it shall be as you say.'_\n\nThen the young man took his muffin, and, breaking off a little bit of\nit, handed it to the man who carried the trees.\n\n'Keep it,' said he; 'it's a pledge of good faith.'\n\nSo they journeyed on together. They were still a long way from the\nMississippi when they came across a man with a mouth large enough to\nswallow a river. When the boy, who had become a young man and was now\nfull grown, set his eyes on him, his beard and moustache began to\nsprout.\n\n'Will you travel with me?'\n\n'Pardon?'\n\n    _'Come, travel with me, my pippy.\n        (Sing merry-ton-ton-ta-lay.)\n     To the land of the far Mississippi\n         Where the crystalline fountains play;\n         There's a Queen who will not say me nay.'\n     'I am yours! But the bounty?'\n         'We're picking it up on the way.'_\n\nThen the young man took his muffin, and, breaking off a little bit of\nit, handed it to the man with the mouth as large as a river.\n\n'Keep it,' said he; 'it's a pledge of good faith.'\n\nSo they journeyed on together. On and on they went until at last they\ncame to a great hill-top, and there, standing on the crest of it, they\nlooked down into an immense valley where they saw a man engaged in\neating up the whole earth. As soon as he saw this gigantic meal going\non, the boy, who had become a young man and was now full grown with\nmoustache and beard, appeared like a knight errant. One could see that,\nfrom the spurs which had grown upon his heels.\n\n'Hi! What are you doing there?'\n\n'I am so terribly hungry that nothing less than the whole earth can\nappease my appetite.'\n\n'Will you travel with me?'\n\n'Pardon?'\n\n    _'Come, travel with me, my pippy.'\n        'Oh! Whither? Madras or Bombay?'\n    'But no; to that far Mississippi,\n        Which flows from the gates of the day;\n        Where a Queen all in purple array\n        Waits for me----'\n    'I am yours! And the bounty?'\n        'Wouldn't go in a twenty-ton dray!'_\n\nThen the young man took his muffin, and, breaking off a little bit,\nhanded it to the man who was eating up the earth.\n\n'Keep it,' said he; 'it's a pledge of good faith.'\n\nThey were still a long way from their destination when they came to a\nbeautiful castle of burnished gold, surrounded by a very deep moat over\nwhich was a drawbridge; and on the bridge was a golden portcullis. As\nsoon as they arrived, their leader rang the bell. When the door was\nopened, the travellers entered, and the hero asked to see the King.\n\n'What do you want with the King?' replied an attendant, richly attired.\n\n'I have come to ask for the hand of his daughter, the Queen of the\nMississippi,' said the hero.\n\n'That is all very well; but consider well before you start on such an\nundertaking; for many have come as you have come and have lost their\nlives.'\n\n'That is nothing,' they all replied. 'We are not afraid!'\n\nThen they were led before the Queen, and all were completely dazzled by\nher beauty. It was a long time before they realised that she was\nspeaking to them. At last they understood her to say:\n\n'Here is my servant. See if you can eat more than he does.'\n\nAnd the servant sat down in front of a table covered with dishes crowded\nwith large joints of meat. And behold, he ate the whole lot up.\n\n'Oh! that is nothing at all,' said the young hero. And, turning to the\nman who ate up the earth, he said:\n\n'Sit down there, my friend.' Then turning again to the servant, he\nordered him to bring in the biggest bull they could find.\n\nThey obeyed, and set it down in front of the man who ate the earth. And,\nin presence of the Queen, he swallowed the bull whole, head and tail and\neverything; and it was alive!\n\nBut the Queen said, 'You have not won me yet!'\n\nAnd then she called in a second servant and said:\n\n'Here is my servant. See if you can drink more than he can!'\n\nAnd immediately the servant took hold of a whole cask of wine, and in\none mouthful drank the whole lot up.\n\nThe young hero said, 'That is nothing at all!' Then, turning to the man\nwith a mouth as big as a river, he added:\n\n'Come here, my friend. Place yourself on your stomach on the moat, and\ndrink well!'\n\nAnd the man with the mouth as large as a river placed himself on his\nstomach, with his mouth to the water of the great moat outside, and in\none second he had drunk up the whole moat, fishes and all, absolutely\ndry.\n\nBut the Queen still said they had not won her!\n\nAnd she beckoned another servant. Then, turning to the young man, she\nsaid: 'See if you can run better than he can. There,' she said, 'at the\ntop of that high mountain, just near the sun, lives a hermit. Go and ask\nhim what it is he wishes to say to me. Then come back and tell me.'\n\n'Oh! that is nothing at all,' said the young hero. And, turning to the\nman who ran like a hare, he said: 'Go to the top of the mountain and\ncome back with the message.'\n\nAnd the man who ran like a hare was out of sight in a second, and before\nthey could count three he had returned to the Queen with the message\nthat the hermit was dead, which the Queen had known all the time.\n\nAnd the young man said to the King:\n\n'You have submitted us to the test, and we have carried out all that you\nwished: we have now gained the Queen, and I am going to take her.'\n\nThen the King got very angry and called out all his soldiers.\n\nThe young man, hearing this, said to the man with the strong arms:\n\n'Hi! friend! Take the whole castle, with the Queen and all that it\ncontains, on your shoulders!'\n\nThe man obeyed and they went on their way!\n\nThey had not gone a great distance when the man who had gazed at the sun\ncried out:\n\n'In the distance I can see that we are being pursued by an army; they\nwant to take the Queen!'\n\nThe King and his army approached rapidly, and demanded the Queen.\n\nThen the man of the strong arm killed the King and every one of his army\nwith a single blow.\n\nThen he departed with the Queen and the castle to the home of the young\nman; and as soon as they got there the hero married the Queen, and, with\nher and his mother, they lived very happily to a good old age.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SERPENT PRINCE\n\nAN ITALIAN FAIRY TALE\n\n\nOnce, a very long time ago, before aeroplanes emulated eagles and motor\ncars ran along swifter than the foxes, there lived on the outskirts of a\ngreat forest an old couple who were poor and childless and lonely.\n\nMatteo was the name of this worthy pair, and the old man was called Cola\nand his wife was known as Sapatella. Now Matteo was a forester, and,\nbecause his duties kept him roaming from early morn until late in the\nevening through the deep dark glades of the forest, his wife, who had to\nstay at home and mind the cottage and prepare the meals, and never go\nout, not even to see the pictures on Saturday evenings, was very lonely\nindeed and wished more than ever that she had a son, so that _he_ could\ngo to the pictures and tell her all about them when he came home.\n\nBut wishes do not make horses or sons, nor even daughters, and so this\npoor old woman had to live a very lonely life indeed, which gave her a\ngreat deal of time to think and to envy\n\n    _The old woman who lived in a shoe,\n    Who had so many children she didn't know what to do,_\n\nwho lived about the same time in another part of the country.\n\nOne evening, when the days were growing short and the nights were\ncorrespondingly long and chilly, Matteo was on his way back to the\ncottage, when he remembered that Sapatella had asked him to bring home\nsome faggots with him to cook with and to keep them warm, because, of\ncourse, when you are a forester and live in a forest, you cannot expect\nto have coal to burn in your grates, like those who live in towns and\nvillages.\n\nThere was plenty of brushwood, and heaps of twigs and fallen boughs\nlying about, and, as he had his axe with him, which all good foresters\ncarry to clear a path for themselves through the dense undergrowths, it\nwas not long before Matteo had collected a great bundle of faggots which\nwas just as much as he could carry on his back.\n\nBut Matteo carried home with him on his back more than a mere bundle of\ndry boughs and twigs, although he did not know it. Neither did\nSapatella, not until the next morning after Matteo had gone off to his\nwork, when she went to the wood pile to get some sticks to put under her\npot to boil the nice rabbit which Matteo had shot for her the day\nbefore. She picked up a bundle and was about to place it on the fire\nwhen a tiny serpent, oh, ever so tiny! slithered and wriggled its way\nout of the twigs and coiled itself up on the rug.\n\nBeing a forester's wife, Sapatella was not the least bit frightened of\nserpents or mice or beetles or other dreadful beasts; besides, it was\nsuch a tiny serpent, all yellow as can be; and, when the firelight\ndanced on it, it shone bright and gleaming like gold.\n\n'Ah me, said the good woman with a sigh, 'even the serpents have their\nyoung ones, but I have no one.'\n\nThen the serpent uncoiled and stretched itself out towards her and\nspoke. All kinds of animals spoke in those days, as you will notice if\nyou read the story through, though not so frequently but that the good\nwoman was surprised and startled to hear it.\n\n'You may have me for your child if you will,' it said.\n\n    _'Keep me warm and feed me well,\n    And fortune will upon you dwell.'_\n\nSapatella was, as I have already said, considerably startled to hear a\nbaby serpent talk like that; but she was a kind-hearted woman and very,\nvery lonely, and she quickly made up her mind to adopt the little\nserpent and bring it up as her own.\n\n[Illustration: THE SERPENT PRINCE\n\nWhen Grannmia saw her strange lover, she alone remained calm and\ncourageous.\n\n_See page 39_]\n\nThe forester, her husband, who was also kind-hearted, agreed to let her\nhave her own way in the matter, and so the little serpent found a home\nand care and affection.\n\n    _They kept him warm and fed him well,\n    And fortune did upon them dwell._\n\nFrom that time on, peace and contentment and prosperity brightened the\nlittle cottage. Everything went smoothly and comfortably, though whether\nthe little serpent had really anything to do with it or not, I cannot\nsay.\n\nSerpents grow up very quickly, and, what with the warmth and the good\nfood and the affection, the little serpent soon grew to be a big one,\noh, monstrous big! so that when he lay in front of the fire he took up\nthe whole of the rug, and Sapatella had to scold him in order to make\nroom so that she could attend to her cooking.\n\nOne day when she had nearly tripped over his tail and fallen with a pot\nof boiling water in her hands, Sapatella said to it: 'You are grown too\nbig to be lying about before the fire all day. You must get up and do\nsomething.'\n\n'Very well, mother,' said the serpent--it always called her mother, and\nCola it called father, just as a son would. 'Find me a wife and I will\nget married and settle down.'\n\nSapatella did not very well know how to set about finding a wife for a\nserpent, even an adopted one; but she agreed to speak to Matteo her\nhusband about the matter when he came home that night.\n\nAfter supper, accordingly, she put the serpent's request to the\nforester.\n\n'Our serpent wants to get married, Cola,' she said; 'so you must find\nhim a wife.'\n\n'Very well,' said Matteo. 'I will hunt through the forest when I am out,\nand try and find another serpent for him to mate with.'\n\n'Oh, that will not do at all,' said the serpent, who had been listening\nvery intently to its adopted parents' conversation, though it seemed to\nbe sleeping peacefully all over the floor in front of the fire. 'I do\nnot mate with serpents. You must get the King's daughter for me.\nTo-morrow you must set out to the palace, and tell the King that I\nrequire his daughter in marriage.'\n\nNaturally Matteo did not at all care about his errand; but his wife\nentreated him to go, and so on the morrow the good man set forth, the\nserpent watching him depart from the cottage door, chanting all the\nwhile:\n\n    _'To the King my message tell,\n    And fortune will upon you dwell.'_\n\nWell, Matteo walked along through the forest on his way to the King's\npalace, and the nearer he got to his journey's end the more difficult\nand dangerous his errand seemed to grow. He thought the King would be\nsure to be very angry, and he might even order him to be hanged for a\nknave, or beaten off the palace grounds for a fool.\n\nBut he kept thinking of what the serpent had said, and, as good fortune\ndwelling upon us is something we all like to have, the forester kept on\nhis way and resolved faithfully to carry out his errand.\n\nHe came at last to the palace gates, and as, in those days, in that\ncountry, any one who wanted to could walk in and speak to the King, this\nsimple old fellow passed in with the crowd who were going to seek help\nor justice, and in due time he came before the King.\n\n'O great King!' he said, 'a serpent who is my adopted son has sent me to\nask your daughter's hand in marriage.'\n\nThe King stared, and then he frowned, and then he stared again. Kings\nare accustomed to receiving strange requests; but never anything so\nstrange as this.\n\nFortunately for Cola, the King was a good-humoured, easy-going man, and,\nthinking that he had to do with some harmless old lunatic, he only\nlaughed, as did all the courtiers and people who stood about him.\n\n'Very well,' he said. 'I will grant your request, only your adopted son\nmust first of all turn all the fruit in my orchard into gold. Then will\nI give him my daughter in marriage.'\n\nMatteo thanked the King for his great clemency and kindness in not\nhaving him hanged or beaten out of the palace, and then started off home\nagain.\n\n'I am well out of that,' he thought to himself; 'but my adopted son will\nhave to be contented with a wife of less degree. Who ever heard of\nturning apples and flowers and cherries into gold? Why, they can only\nmake copper and silver of them in Covent Garden.'\n\nBut the serpent didn't seem in the least bit concerned when the forester\ntold him the result of his errand.\n\n'That is a small matter,' it said. 'To-morrow morning you must go into\nthe city with a basket, and gather up all the fruit-stones you can find,\nand take them and scatter them in the orchard.\n\n    _'Do this thing and do it well,\n      And fortune will upon you dwell.'_\n\nSo Matteo went once more to the town and did exactly as the serpent had\ntold him. Not knowing anything of magic, he did not in the least expect\nanything to happen; so you may imagine his surprise when not only the\nfruit, but every tree and leaf and bough in the whole orchard, turned\ninto solid gold, and glittered so in the sunlight that one could\nscarcely bear to look at them.\n\nIt chanced that the King was walking on the terrace with his courtiers\nwhen Matteo entered the orchard.\n\n'There is that silly old man come back again who wants me to wed my\ndaughter to a serpent,' he said. 'Is he going to turn my fruit into gold\nby stealing it and selling it in the market-place?'\n\nThe courtiers laughed at this excellent jest, as courtiers will; but the\nnext moment they stopped laughing, and each one rubbed his eyes and\nejaculated in astonishment and delight at the marvellous beauty and\nvalue of the King's orchards.\n\nThe King himself could say nothing, and he said nothing, until Matteo\ncame before him and humbly begged his Majesty to fulfil his promise now\nthat the serpent, his adopted son, had done the task assigned to him.\n\nThe King was in a quandary. He was not greedy or avaricious; but to have\na serpent for a son-in-law was, for a king, clearly impossible.\n\n'Softly,' he said. 'You have fulfilled your task, it is true; but so\nfair an orchard requires a better setting. Golden trees should not grow\nout of common ground and be enclosed by common walls. Let your adopted\nson first turn all the ground and the walls into diamonds and rubies and\nprecious stones, so that I may have orchards whereof the like is not\nknown in all the world, and then will I give him my daughter to wife.'\n\nThe forester again thanked his Majesty for his great condescension and\nretired, while the King and his courtiers went into the orchard and\npicked golden apples and plums and peaches from golden boughs, and\nmarvelled at the wonderful thing that had been done before their eyes.\n\nIt was in the King's mind that this could be no common or forest\nserpent, and he was troubled to think what his position would be if the\nsecond task was performed as readily and thoroughly as the first had\nbeen.\n\nWhen Matteo reached home and told the serpent what had befallen him, the\nserpent shook his tail and seemed about to fly into a passion.\n\n'You see how well kings keep their word,' it said angrily. 'But it is a\nsmall matter after all. Do you go again to the town on the morrow, and\ngather all the broken bits of china and glass you can find. These you\nmust take in a basket, and lay a piece on each wall and between each\ntree and bush.\n\n    _'Do this thing and do it well,\n      And fortune will upon you dwell.'_\n\nSo Matteo set out at daybreak, and did exactly as the serpent had told\nhim. He had no difficulty in finding plenty of material for his purpose,\nand it was still early when he reached the orchard with a heavy load of\nbroken tea-cups and plates and oddments of basins and teapots and\nwater-jugs.\n\nEarly as it was, it was not too early for the King to be present. The\nwonder of this new possession had kept his Majesty awake nearly all\nnight, and he was impatient until he could get into the orchard and\nsatisfy himself that it was all really and actually true.\n\nWhen he saw Matteo approach and lay down his fragments of china, he grew\nthoughtful, for he realised that it was all true enough, and that the\nsecond condition would be likely to be performed. But he said nothing,\nand Matteo walked from tree to tree, dropping here a piece of cup, there\na fragment of plate; and, wherever the china fell, the ground between\nthe trees turned to diamond or sapphire or ruby. With the walls it was\njust the same. Every kind of precious stone known and unknown was to be\nfound in that wonderful orchard, even to a carbuncle which grew on a\ncourtier's toe in consequence of his incautious action in putting his\nfoot just where Matteo was dropping a tiny bit of china.\n\nThe King was delighted and depressed at the same time. He had got\norchards surpassing in beauty and value anything that was known to be in\nthe whole world; also he had to give his daughter in marriage to a\nserpent, and the last seemed to the poor King of greater consideration\nthan the former.\n\n'Tell the serpent, your adopted son, that, although he has accomplished\nthe task I set him, yet will I not give him my daughter to wed unless he\nalso turns my palace into gold,' he said to Matteo, and again the\nforester thanked the King for his great clemency and condescension, and\nreturned to his home.\n\nAgain the serpent grew angry and said shrewd things concerning the value\nof the word of kings, and the trust which is not to be found in\nprinces--not even German princes.\n\n'But,' said he, 'it is a small matter. Do you go at daybreak and gather\nin the forest herbs of this kind and that, and make them into a broom,\nand sweep therewith the whole length of the palace walls, and so shall\nit be even as the King wishes.\n\n    _'Go do this thing and do it well,\n      And fortune shall upon you dwell.'_\n\nSo Matteo went into the forest and gathered herbs of this kind and that,\nand swept the palace well round as the serpent had directed, and when\nthe King and his courtiers and the servants--even down to the scullery\nwench--arose, the whole palace was golden from the front step of the\nmain entrance to the topmost ridge of the chimney. And it was not gold\nplate either: it was all solid gold of the purest kind.\n\nThis time the King saw that there was no way of escape when Matteo asked\nfor the fulfilment of the royal promise, so he called his daughter to\nhim and told her of the matter.\n\n'My dear Grannmia,' he said, for that was her name, 'for your sake I\nhave twice broken my royal pledge, and now I greatly fear you must keep\nit. It is a small matter--just to marry a serpent, the adopted son of a\npoor forester.'\n\nThe Princess, who was very young and very dutiful, and surpassingly fair\nto look upon, agreed cheerfully, as though marrying serpents was quite\nan ordinary everyday duty like laying foundation stones and receiving\nbouquets.\n\nSo the King told Matteo to send the serpent along and marry his\ndaughter, and for goodness' sake not to bother him any further with\ngolden palaces, and jewelled orchards, and carbuncles on his favourite\ncourtier's big toe.\n\nWhen the serpent heard this from Matteo, it seemed beside itself with\njoy, and there and then set off for the palace. But before it left the\nhumble cottage in which it had received so much care and affection, it\nbade farewell to Sapatella and Matteo, and thanked them very heartily\nfor all their goodness, finishing up with these words:\n\n    _'Now my task you have done full well,\n      Good fortune shall upon you dwell.'_\n\nAnd it did; for, from that time till the day they died, both Sapatella\nand Matteo were happy and contented and prosperous, and never ailed or\nsuffered pain or disappointment.\n\nWhen Grannmia saw her strange lover, she alone remained calm and\ncourageous--the only one in the palace who did. All the servants ran\nshrieking when they saw the great golden monster entering the doors,\nand, when it got to the presence-chamber, the King and Queen fled in one\ndirection and the courtiers in another. Only the Princess remained,\ntrembling with astonishment, and awaited the pleasure of the serpent.\n\nSlowly it came gliding towards her, and then, when it was almost near\nenough for her to touch it, it reared up--the golden skin fell apart,\nand a young and most handsome Prince stood bowing before her.\n\nNow, of course, everything would have been happy and joyous if it had\nnot been for the silly old King, who, partly out of anxiety for his\ndaughter, but chiefly from curiosity, stole back and peeped into the\nroom just as the Prince emerged from the golden skin which had disguised\nhim as a serpent.\n\nHe did just what you should never do with disenchanted princes: rushed\nforward and threw the discarded skin into the fire, where it flashed and\nburned like a resinous torch.\n\nAt the sound of the crackling the Prince turned, and, when he saw what\nhad happened, he was furiously angry, more angry, in fact, than he had\nbeen when, as a serpent, he had reflected on the unreliability of the\npromises of kings. Then, with a sad look at the Princess, he turned to\nthe King and said:\n\n    _'This act of yours renews the spell,\n      May fortune never with you dwell.'_\n\nAnd, turning himself into a dove, he circled three times round the\nPrincess and then flew through the window. At least, he would have flown\nthrough the window, only it did not happen to be open. In consequence he\nbroke the pane and very nearly his own head; but he got out, and flew\nstraight away over the golden orchard, while the Princess, who had\nrushed to the window, stood gazing after him until he could no longer be\nseen. Then she turned and gave the unhappy King her views of his\nmeddlesome prying. Then she burst into tears and cried until the sun\nwent down, so that the tears formed a stream and ran down into the\nfountain-court, and all the poor little goldfish died because of too\nmuch salt in their fresh water.\n\nBut crying does not help any one, so, after all the palace servants had\ngone to bed, she gathered up all her treasures and set out to find her\nelusive husband, who had come to her as a serpent with a wriggly tail,\nand flown away as a dove with a bit of a broken window-pane in his head.\n\nWhen she got out of the palace grounds into the woods behind, she met a\nfox who was also looking for a dove, or a fowl, or any other winged\nthing.\n\nThe fox said, 'Good evening, pretty Princess. May I travel with you for\ncompany?'\n\n'Yes, do,' said the Princess. 'I am not used to the woods at night, and\nI may not be able to find my way.'\n\nSo the fox led her through the wood and far away from the palace until\nthey had gone miles and miles, and the Princess was so tired that she\nwould not go another step, not even to find a dove with a bandaged head.\nSo they both lay down and went to sleep.\n\nIt was late in the morning when she awoke and heard the birds singing\nall around her.\n\nTheir song pleased her very much, and the fox, noticing this, remarked:\n'Ah, if you could only understand what they are saying you would be much\nmore pleased.'\n\n'Oh, do tell me, dear fox,' pleaded the Princess; and, after he had made\nher ask him a sufficient number of times, the fox replied:\n\n'Well, they are saying that the King's son, who was turned into a\nserpent by his godmother to spite his father, has met with an accident\nthat now threatens his life. The spell lasted for seven years, and, on\nthe very day it ended, he was about to marry the daughter of another\nking, when her father rashly burnt the skin and thus caused him to be\nturned into a dove. In flying from the palace he has cut his head\nagainst a window-pane, and is now at his father's palace lying so sadly\nhurt that none of the doctors can do anything for him.'\n\nThe Princess was greatly concerned at hearing this story.\n\n'But listen, dear fox, and hear if the birds say whether there is any\nway of curing this poor Prince,' she said.\n\nSo the fox listened intently, and by and by he said to the Princess:\n'The blackbirds are saying there is no way, but the wrens say there is\none. Whoever would cure the Prince must obtain the blood from these very\nbirds and pour it on the head of the Prince, when he will immediately\nrecover and be as well as he ever was.'\n\nThe Princess began to grow hopeful, and begged of the fox to catch the\nbirds for her so that she might obtain the remedy and restore the Prince\nto health. She added a promise of reward for his assistance, and the fox\nagreed to help her.\n\nSo they waited under the trees until the sun had gone in and the birds\nwere all asleep in their nests, and then the fox climbed stealthily into\nthe trees and gathered the birds one after the other, just like a\nnaughty schoolboy stealing apples from a farmer's orchard.\n\nHaving obtained what she required, the Princess set forth eagerly to\ncarry the remedy to the Prince's palace.\n\nBut the fox, who had taken care to keep well out of her reach, suddenly\nsat down and began to laugh.\n\n'Why do you laugh, dear fox?' asked the Princess. 'Is it that you are\noverjoyed to think that the Prince who is to be my husband will soon be\nrestored to health? But let us hurry: we may be too late!'\n\n'No, it is not that,' said the fox, laughing again. 'It is to think that\nyour remedy will be of no avail without the other ingredient, which is\nthe blood of a fox, and as I am not minded to supply it, I will skip the\nreward you promised and be off.'\n\nThereupon he started away, pelting as hard as he could go.\n\nThe Princess saw that her only hope was to outwit the fox, and she\nimmediately thought of a plan to gain her end.\n\n'Dear fox, do not run,' she said; 'that would be a pity now that the\nremedy is in our own hands. The King is certain to reward us lavishly,\nand surely there are plenty of other foxes among whom we can find one\nwilling to spare his blood to save the King's son. Let us go on, then,\nand trust to our fortune.'\n\nThe fox, proud of the fact of being the most artful animal alive, never\nthought for one moment that he could be exceeded in cunning by a simple\nmaiden, so he came back to the Princess, and together they walked\nthrough the forest to the far end where the palace of the King showed in\nthe near distance.\n\n'That is the place,' said the fox; 'but we haven't got the other\ningredient!'\n\n'Oh yes, we have,' said the Princess, and, before the fox could be any\nmore artful, she hit him on the head with a stout branch she had picked\nup, and with such force that he did not in the least object to the\nnecessary addition to the Prince's medicine being drawn from his own\nveins.\n\nOf course the Princess was sorry to have to do this. The fox had helped\nher a great deal; and besides, she was a tender-hearted little thing,\nand she wept like anything all the while she was compounding the remedy;\nbut princes are of more importance than foxes, particularly when they\nare handsome princes who have been serpents and are wanted to make\nhandsome husbands.\n\nSo the Princess took the phial containing the very strange cure for\nwounded heads, and proceeded straight to the King's palace.\n\nThey were all so disturbed, with the servants running about\ndistractedly, and the doctors quarrelling with each other, and the\ncourtiers standing about trying not to look bored, that no one took the\nleast notice of the Princess; but she was a pushing young lady, and\nseeing the palace doors all open, she made her way from room to room\nuntil at last she found the King himself.\n\n'And it please your Majesty,' she said, dropping him a curtsy, 'I have\ncome to save the Prince.'\n\n'But how can you save the Prince when all the great doctors in my\nkingdom cannot?' demanded the King.\n\n    _'The birds told me,\n    The fox helped me,\n    And I can save your son.\n    But, if I do, I ask of you\n    To marry me to him when I've done,'_\n\nchanted the Princess.\n\nThe King was so overcome with grief and anxiety that he was ready to\npromise anything to anybody who could help him, so he gave the Princess\nthe required promise, and, without more ado, she caused herself to be\nled into the chamber of the Prince, and poured the contents of the phial\nover his wound.\n\nThe Prince, who had been so nearly at the point of death that no one\nwould have believed to see him that there was any life in him at all,\nimmediately sat up, recovered and well.\n\nHe did not recognise the Princess, and when the King, his father, told\nhim the terms on which she had saved his life, and presented the maiden\nto him, he refused.\n\n'For the great service you have rendered me I am grateful indeed,' he\nsaid; 'but I cannot marry you. My heart is already given to another, and\nnot even for my life will I be false to my word.'\n\nWhen she heard this the Princess was secretly overjoyed; but she\npretended to be greatly displeased, and she disdainfully rejected all\nother offers of reward that were made to her by the King and the Prince.\n\n'Tell me who this other is, and I will go to her and get her to\nrelinquish you in my favour,' she said at length. 'When she learns what\nI have done for you, I am sure she will agree that my claim is greater\nthan hers.'\n\n'It is the Princess Grannmia; but that I am sure she will never do,'\nsaid the Prince proudly. 'Even if she would, I will not. What is life\nwithout love? and I would rather be a serpent again, and live in the\ncottage of a poor forester all my days, than rule this kingdom without\nmy beloved Princess.'\n\nOn hearing this the Princess could no longer keep her secret.\n\n'You must love me indeed, dear Prince,' she said, 'if you do not\nrecognise me when I come pleading to you to carry out your promise after\nsaving your life, and marry me as you would have done when the King, my\nfather, drove you away from me.'\n\nThen the Prince recognised her, and he embraced her so heartily that the\nPrincess wondered whether he was still a serpent or only just a strong\nyoung man who was very much in love with her, while the King went out\nand gave immediate orders to set the bells a-ringing, and have\npreparations made on the most lavish scale for the wedding feast.\n\n\n\n\nTHE HIND OF THE WOOD\n\nA FRENCH FAIRY TALE\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a King and a Queen whose marriage was as\nhappy as happy could be; they loved each other tenderly, and, in turn,\ntheir subjects loved them; but one thing clouded their life: and that\nwas that they had no children, no heir. The Queen thought that the King\nwould love her much more if she had a child. So she made up her mind to\ndrink of the water of a certain spring. People came there in thousands\nfrom afar to drink of this special kind of water; and one saw so many\nthat it looked as though all the world and his wife were there.\n\nNow there were many, many lovely fountains in the wood where the Queen\nand other people went to drink at the spring; so the Queen asked her\nladies to lead the others away to these fountains to amuse themselves,\nand leave her alone. Then, when they had all withdrawn, she bewailed in\na plaintive voice.\n\n'Am I not unhappy,' she said, 'to have no children! The poor women, who\ncan badly afford them, have plenty; but here it is now five years that I\nhave begged heaven to give me one. Oh! am I to die without ever having a\nlittle child? Never! Never! Nev----'\n\nShe broke off suddenly, for she saw that the water of the fountain was\ntroubled. Then a big Crayfish came up and climbed on to the bank and\nspoke to her:\n\n'Great Queen, you shall have your desire. Near here is the grand palace\nwhich the fairies built, but it is impossible for you to find it,\nbecause it is surrounded by strong fairy barricades, through which no\nmortal eye could ever see, nor mortal footstep pass without a guide.\nBut I am your humble servant, and, if you will trust yourself to me, I\nwill take you there.'\n\nThe Queen listened without interrupting, for hearing a big Crayfish\ntalk--and talk so nicely too--was a great surprise to her. But there was\na still greater surprise in store. The Crayfish waved its feelers in the\nair, and, before she could count three, it had taken the form of a\nbeautiful little old woman, with pretty snow-white hair and a dainty\nshepherdess costume. She bowed low, and then spoke.\n\n'Well, madam,' said she, 'always look upon me as one of your friends,\nfor I wish nothing but what would be for your good.'\n\nShe was so sweet and charming that the Queen kissed her, and then by\ncommon consent they went off hand in hand through the wood by a way\nwhich surprised the Queen.\n\nIt was the way by which the fairies came from the palace to the\nfountains. As they went the Queen paused to look at a strange thing\nwhich made her heart beat very fast. At a certain spot the bushes\noverhead were full of roses and orange blossoms, entwined and laced in\nsuch a way as to form a cradle covered with leaves. The earth beneath\nwas a carpet of violets, and, in the giant cedars above, thousands of\nlittle birds, each one a different colour, sang their songs; and the\nmeaning of their melody was this: that cradle, woven by fairy fingers,\nwas not there for nothing.\n\nThe Queen had not got over this surprise before she saw in the distance\na castle that dazzled her vision, so splendid did it shine. To tell the\ntruth, the walls and the ceilings were of nothing but diamonds, and all\nthe benches--even the balcony and terraces--all were pure diamonds\nscintillating with flashes beyond the strength of human eyes to bear.\nThe Queen gave a great cry of joy as she covered her eyes with her hand.\nThen, as they came to the gate of the castle, she asked the little old\nwoman if what she saw were real, or if she were dreaming?\n\n'Nothing is more real, madam,' the fairy replied. And at that moment the\ndoor of the castle opened and six other fairies came out. But what\nfairies! They were the most beautiful ever seen. They all made a low\nbow to the Queen, and each one presented her with a branch flowering\nwith petals of precious stones, to make herself a bouquet. One bore\nroses, another tulips, another rare wild-flowers, and the rest budded\nwith carnations and pomegranates.\n\n'Madam,' they said, 'we could not give you a greater mark of our\nfriendship for you, than to invite you here. We are pleased to be able\nto tell you that you shall have a lovely little Princess whom you shall\ncall Desiree. Be sure not to forget that, when she is born, you summon\nus, because we wish to endow her with all the good qualities possible.\nAll you will have to do is to take the branches of the bouquet, and, in\nnaming each flower, think of the fairy of that name; rest assured that\nwe shall be in your room immediately.'\n\nThe Queen, full of joy, threw her arms around each one's neck in turn,\nand kissed them all, over and over again, for half an hour. After that\nthey begged the Queen to go through their palace, and the diamonds were\nso bright that the Queen could not keep her eyes open. Then they took\nher through their garden. Never was there such lovely fruit; the\napricots were larger than her head, and she could only eat a quarter of\none, and the taste was so lovely that the Queen resolved never to eat\nanything else as long as she lived. She remained in the palace until the\nevening, and then, having thanked the fairies for all they had done for\nher, she returned with the Fairy of the Fountain.\n\nNow, when the Queen went home, she found that they were all very upset,\nand had been searching for her, and could not think where she had gone.\nSome had thought that, as she was so beautiful and young, some stranger\nhad taken her away: which was reasonable, for she spoke so nicely to\nevery one. But now at last they had found her, and the King was himself\nagain.\n\nThe Queen soon found that what the fairies had said was true. On a\ncertain day she had a little daughter, and she called her Desiree. Then,\nremembering their words, she at once took the bouquet and named each\nflower and thought of the fairies one after the other, and lo!\nimmediately they were all there. Their arms were crammed full of\npresents. And, after they had kissed the Queen and the little Princess,\nthey began to distribute the presents. There was beautiful lace with the\nhistory of the world worked into it; then came a lovely cover all marked\nin gold representing all the toys that children play with. The cot was\nthen shown, and the Queen went into raptures over it: it surely was the\nnicest ever made; it was of beautiful, rare wood, with a canopy of blue\nsilk, inwrought with diamonds and rubies.\n\nThen the fairies took the little Princess on their knees, and kissed her\nand hugged her because she was so good and beautiful. Each fairy wished\nher a good quality. One wished her to be wise; another wished that she\nmight be good; another wished her to be virtuous; another to be\nbeautiful; another to possess a good fortune; and the fifth asked for\nher a long life and good health. Then came the last, and she wished that\nDesiree might obtain all that she herself could ever wish for.\n\nThe Queen thanked them a hundred times for all the good things they had\ngiven her little daughter, and, while she was doing so, all gave a\nsudden start, for the door opened and a tremendous Crayfish--so large\nthat it could hardly get through the door--came in, waving its feelers\nin the air.\n\n'O ungrateful Queen!' said the Crayfish, 'you did not trouble to ask me\nhere. Is it possible that you have so soon forgotten the Fairy of the\nFountain and the good services I did in taking you to my sisters. Why,\nyou have invited all of them, and I am the only one forgotten.'\n\nThe Queen was terribly upset at her error, and begged the Fairy to\nforgive her. She hastened to assure her that she had not for a moment\nforgotten her great obligation to her; and she begged her not to go back\non her friendship, and particularly to be good to the little Princess.\n\nThe others thought that the Fairy of the Fountain would wish evil to the\nbaby Princess, so they said to her: 'Dear sister, do not be cross with\nthe Queen; she is good and never would offend you.'\n\nNow, as the Fairy of the Fountain liked to be spoken to nicely, this\nsoftened her a little, and she said:\n\n'Very well, I will not wish her all the harm I was going to; I will\nlessen it a little. But take care that she never sees the light of day\nuntil she is fifteen, or she and you will have reason to regret it. That\nis all I have to say.' Then, suddenly changing into the little old woman\nwith the white hair and shepherdess dress, she pirouetted through the\nwall, staff in hand. And the cries of the Queen and the prayers of the\ngood fairies did not matter a bit.\n\nThe Queen begged the other fairies to avert the terrible catastrophe,\nand besought them to tell her what to do. They consulted together, and\nat last told the Queen that they would build a palace without any\nwindows or doors, and with an underground passage, so that the\nPrincess's food could be brought to her. And she was to be kept there\nuntil she was fifteen.\n\nThen, with a wave of their wands, they made a lovely, pure-white marble\ncastle spring up, and, inside of this, all the chairs were made of\njewels, and even the floors were no different. And here the little\nPrincess dwelt and grew up a good and beautiful child, possessing all\nthe good qualities that her fairy godmothers had wished for her; and\nfrom time to time they came to see how she was getting on. But, of all\nthe fairy godmothers, Tulip was the favourite. She reminded the Queen\nnever to forget the warning not to allow the Princess to see the light\nof day, lest the terrible fate that the Fairy of the Fountain had laid\nupon her would surely come to pass. The Queen, of course, promised never\nto forget so important a matter.\n\nNow, just as her little daughter was nearing the age of fifteen, the\nQueen had her portrait taken and sent to all the great courts of the\nworld. And so it happened that one Prince, when he saw it, took it and\nshut it up in his cabinet and talked to the portrait as though it was\nthe Princess herself in the flesh.\n\nThe courtiers heard him and went and told his father that his son had\ngone mad, and that he was shut up in his room, talking all day long to\nsomething or somebody who wasn't there.\n\nThe King immediately sent for his son and told him what the courtiers\nhad said about him; then he asked him if it was true, and what had come\nover him to act like this.\n\nThe Prince thought this a favourable opportunity, so he threw himself at\nthe feet of the King and said:\n\n'You have resolved, sire, to marry me to the Black Princess, but I love\nthe Princess Desiree.'\n\n'You have not seen her,' said the King. 'How can you love her?'\n\n'Neither have I seen the Black Princess, but I have both their\nportraits,' replied the Warrior Prince (he was so named because he had\nwon three great battles), 'but I assure you that I have such a love for\nthe Princess Desiree, that if you do not withdraw your word to the Black\nPrincess and allow me to have Desiree, I shall die, and I shall be very\nglad to do so if I am unable to have the Princess I love.'\n\n'It is to her portrait, then, that you have been speaking?' said the\nKing. 'My son, you have made yourself the laughing-stock of the whole\ncourt. They think you are mad.'\n\n'You would be as much struck as I am if you saw her portrait,' replied\nthe Prince firmly.\n\n'Fetch it and show it to me, then,' said the King, equally firmly.\n\nThe Prince went, and returned with the Princess's portrait as requested;\nand the King was so struck with her beauty that he gave the Prince leave\nthere and then to marry her, and promised to withdraw his word from the\nother Princess.\n\n'My dear Warrior,' said he, 'I should love to have so beautiful a\nPrincess in my court.'\n\nThe Prince kissed his father's hand and bowed his knee, for he could not\nconceal his joy. He begged the King to send a messenger not only to the\nBlack Princess but also to Princess Desiree; and he hoped that in regard\nto his own Princess, he would choose a man who would prove the most\ncapable; and he must be rich, because this was a special occasion and\ncalled for all the elaborate preparation it was possible to show in such\na diplomatic mission.\n\nThe King's choice fell on Prince Becafigue; he was a young Prince who\nspoke eloquently, and he possessed five millions of money. And, beside\nthis, he loved the Warrior Prince very dearly.\n\nWhen the messenger was taking his leave the Prince said to him:\n\n'Do not forget, my dear Becafigue, that my life depends on my marrying\nPrincess Desiree, whom you are going to see. Do your best for me and\ntell the Princess that I love her.' Then he handed Becafigue his\nphotograph to give the Princess.\n\nThe young Prince Becafigue's cortege was so grand, and consisted of so\nmany carriages, that it took them twenty-three hours to pass; and the\nwhole world turned out to see him enter the gates of the palace where\nthe King and Queen and Princess Desiree lived. The King and Queen saw\nhim coming and were very pleased with all his grandeur, and commanded\nthat he should be received in a manner befitting so great a personage.\n\nBecafigue was taken before the King and Queen, and, after paying his\nrespects to them, told them his message and asked to be introduced to\nthe Princess Desiree. What was his surprise on being refused!\n\n'I am very sorry to have to say no to your request, Prince Becafigue,'\nsaid the King, 'but I will tell you why. On the day the Princess was\nborn a fairy took an aversion to her, and said that a great misfortune\nshould befall her if she saw the light of day before she was fifteen\nyears of age.'\n\n'And am I to return without her?' said Becafigue. 'Here is a portrait of\nthe Warrior Prince.' Then, as he was handing it to the King, and was\nabout to say something further about it, a voice came from the\nphotograph, speaking with loving tones:\n\n'Dear Desiree, you cannot imagine with what joy I wait for you: come\nsoon to our court, where your beauty will grace it as no other court\nwill ever be graced.'\n\nThe portrait said nothing more, and the King and the Queen were so\nsurprised that they asked Becafigue to allow them to show it to the\nPrincess.\n\nBecafigue readily assented and the Queen took the portrait to the\nPrincess and showed it to her; and the Princess was delighted. Although\nthe Queen had told her nothing, the Princess knew that it meant a great\nmarriage, and was not surprised when her mother asked: 'Would you be\ncross if you had to marry this man?'\n\n'Madam,' said the Princess, 'it is not for me to choose; I shall be\npleased to obey whatever you wish.'\n\n'But,' said the Queen, 'if my choice should fall on this particular\nPrince, would you consider yourself happy?'\n\nThe Princess blushed and turned her eyes away and said nothing; then the\nQueen took her in her arms and kissed her, for she loved the Princess\nvery much and knew that she would soon lose her, for it wanted only\nthree months to her fifteenth birthday.\n\nWhen the Prince knew that he could not have his dear Princess Desiree\nuntil three months had passed, he became very sad, and could not sleep\nat night, until at last his strength gave way and he was near to death.\nDoctors were called in, but they could do nothing at all, and the King\nwas in a dreadful state, for he loved his son very much.\n\nNow the other messenger, who was sent to the Black Princess to tell her\nthat the Prince had changed his mind and was going to marry another, was\nadmitted to her presence and soon explained his errand.\n\n'Mr. Messenger,' she said when he had finished, 'is it possible that\nyour master does not think I am beautiful or rich enough? Look out over\nmy broad lands and you will find that they are so vast that you cannot\nsee where they end; and, as for money, I have large coffers full to the\nbrim, as any one will tell you.'\n\n'Madam,' replied the messenger, 'I blame my master as much as a humble\nsubject may. Now if I were sitting on the greatest throne in the world,\nI would think it the highest favour from heaven if you would share it\nwith me.'\n\n'That speech has saved your life,' said the Black Princess, 'you may\ngo.'\n\nWhen the Fairy of the Fountain heard this she was extremely angry and\nshe looked in her book to make sure that the Warrior Prince had really\nleft the Black Princess in favour of the Princess Desiree. Yes, it was\nquite true.\n\n'What!' cried the Fairy of the Fountain, 'this ill-omened Desiree is\nalways in some way upsetting my plans. No! I will not allow it to\nhappen: why should I?'\n\nNow the messenger Becafigue hurried along to the court of Desiree's\nfather and mother, and threw himself at their feet, and told them that\nhis master was very ill and likely to die if he did not see the\nPrincess.\n\nThe King and Queen agreed that it would be best to go and tell the\nPrincess about the Prince; so the Queen went and told her daughter all\nshe knew, not forgetting to mention the evil wish that had been laid\nupon her at the time of her birth. But the Princess asked her mother if\nit were not possible to defeat this wish by taking steps to send her to\nthe Prince in a carriage with all the light shut out.\n\nThis was agreed upon and a carriage was made on a subtle plan, with a\nseparate compartment for the Princess, and mouse-trap blinds through\nwhich food and drink could be inserted without admitting the light of\nday. In this she, with her two ladies-in-waiting, Long-Epine and\nGiroflee, set forth, and all the court wept together with the King and\nQueen at the going away of their little Princess.\n\nNow Long-Epine did not care for Desiree very much, and, what is more,\nshe loved the Warrior Prince, having seen his photograph and heard him\nspeak.\n\nThe Queen's last words at parting were:\n\n'Take care of my little daughter, and do not on any account let her see\nthe light of day. I have made all arrangements with the Prince that she\nis to be shut up in a room where she will not be able to see the light,\nand every care will be taken.' And, with these words in their ears, they\nset off, having promised the Queen that all would be done as she\nwished.\n\nLong-Epine told herself she would never let the Princess win the Warrior\nPrince, not if she could prevent it; so, at dinner time that day, when\nthe sun was at its highest, she went as usual to the carriage with the\nPrincess's food, and, with a big knife, slit the blind so that the light\nstreamed in. No sooner had she done so than a strange thing happened.\nThe Princess had been quite alone in the darkened compartment; then how\nwas it that a white hind leapt out through the window and sped away into\nthe forest? Long-Epine watched it, wondering. Then she looked in at the\nwindow, but the compartment was empty. The Princess had gone!\n\nImmediately the Princess, in the form of a white hind, had disappeared\ninto the forest, her good friend Giroflee began to chase after her. As\nsoon as she had gone, Long-Epine took the clothes of her mistress and\ndressed herself up in them, and resolved to impersonate the Princess\nbefore the young Prince. Then the carriage drove on, and in it sat\nLong-Epine disguised as the Princess.\n\nWhen they arrived she presented herself as Desiree; but the Prince\nlooked at her with horror, for she was not at all like a real Princess.\nDesiree's dress, which she wore, came to her knees, and she had not\nnoticed that her ugly legs showed below the dress.\n\n'This is not the Princess of the portrait,' said the Prince and his\nfather together. 'You took us for fools, no doubt!'\n\nThe false Princess said that it was a terrible thing to bring her away\nfrom her kingdom to be treated in this way, and to break the word that\nthey had given. 'How can you do this?' she cried.\n\nAt this the Prince and his father were so angry that they did not reply\nat all, but simply had the false Princess clapped in irons and put into\nprison.\n\nThe Prince was so heart-broken at this new trouble that he resolved to\ngo and shut himself up for the remainder of his life, alone. At once he\nsummoned the faithful Becafigue, and told him all. Then he wrote a\nletter to his father and sent it by Becafigue.\n\n'If I never see my real Princess again,' he wrote, 'I beg of you that\nat least you will keep that sham one locked up, and guard her close.'\n\nNow all this time the Princess was in the wood, running hither and\nthither as hinds do. Once or twice she looked at herself in the water of\nthe fountain, and saw herself so changed that she cried out: 'Is it I?\nAm I this hind?' Then at last she got very hungry, and began to eat\nberries and herbs, and finally sought a quiet spot and went to sleep.\n\nThe Fairy Tulip had always loved the Princess, and said that if she left\nthe castle before she was fifteen, she was sure that the Fairy of the\nFountain would relent and do her no harm. But, as for Giroflee, she was\nall this time wandering round looking for the little Princess. She had\nwalked so much and now felt so tired that she lay down and went to sleep\nin the forest. The next morning the Princess, seeking moss among the\nferns, found her. When she saw that it was Giroflee, she went up to her\nand caressed her with her nozzle, as hinds do, and looked into her eyes\nuntil at last Giroflee knew full well that it was the Princess turned\ninto a White Hind. She watched the Hind attentively and saw two large\ntears fall from her eyes, and then there was not a single doubt that it\nwas her dear little Princess; so she put her arms around her neck, and\nthey wept together.\n\nThen Giroflee told the Princess that she would never leave her, and that\nshe would stay with her until the end.\n\nThe Hind understood, and, to show her gratitude, took Giroflee into the\nvery deepest part of the forest to find her some luscious fruit which\nshe had seen there; but on the way Giroflee called out in alarm: she\nwould die of fright if she had to spend the night in such a desolate\nspot; and then they both began to cry. Their cries were so pitiful that\nthey touched the heart of the good Fairy Tulip, and she came to their\naid.\n\nGiroflee begged her to have pity on her young mistress, and to give her\nback her natural form, but the Fairy Tulip said that it was impossible\nto do that. She said that she would do what she could. She told\nGiroflee that if she went into the forest, she would come to the hut of\nan old woman. She was to speak her fair and ask her to take charge of\nboth of them. Then when night came, the Princess would change back into\nher natural form; but as this could only happen at night in the hut,\nthey must be very careful.\n\nNow Giroflee thanked the fairy and went, as she had told her, far into\nthe wood; and there, sure enough, she saw a hut and an old woman sitting\noutside on a bench. She went up to her at once.\n\n'My dear mother,' she said, 'will you allow me to have a little room in\nyour house for myself and my little Hind?'\n\n'Yes, my dear daughter,' she replied, 'I will certainly give you a\nroom.' And she immediately took them into the hut, and then into the\ndearest little room it was possible to find. It contained two little\nbeds all draped in pure white and beautifully clean.\n\nAs the night began to come in, Desiree changed her form and became the\nPrincess again; and, seeing this, Giroflee kissed her and hugged her\nwith delight. The old woman knocked at the door, and, without entering,\nshe handed Giroflee some fresh fruit which they were very pleased to\nhave to eat; and then they went to bed. But, as soon as day dawned,\nDesiree took again the shape and form of a White Hind.\n\nNow Becafigue was in the very same wood, and came to the hut where the\nold woman lived. He begged her to give him something for his master to\neat; but the old woman told him that if his master spent the night in\nthe forest, harm would surely happen to him, because it was full of wild\nanimals. Why should he not come to her hut? Why should he not accept the\nlittle room she could offer him? He was welcome to it and a good meal\nbesides.\n\nThen Becafigue went back and told the Prince all that the old woman had\nsaid and persuaded him to accept her offer. They put the Prince into the\nroom next to the Princess, but neither of them knew anything of this\narrangement.\n\n[Illustration: THE HIND OF THE WOOD\n\nGiroflee thanked the fairy and went ... far into the wood; and there,\nsure enough, she saw a hut and an old woman sitting outside.\n\n_See page 56_]\n\nThe next morning the Prince called Becafigue, and told him that he was\ngoing into the forest and that he was not to follow him. The Prince had\nwalked and walked for a long time in the forest, grieving over his loss,\nwhen suddenly in the distance he saw a lovely little White Hind, and\ngave chase and tried to catch it. The Hind, who was no other than the\nlittle Princess, ran and ran far away until the Prince, in utter\nfatigue, gave up the chase; but he resolved to look again the next day,\nand to be more careful this time, so as not to let the Hind get away.\nThen he went home and told the story to Becafigue, while the Princess on\nher side was telling her dear Giroflee that a young hunter had chased\nher and tried to kill her, but she was so fleet-footed that she got\naway.\n\nGiroflee told her not to go out any more, but to stay in and read some\nbooks that she would find for her; but, after a little thought, the\nPrincess found it too awful to be shut up in one little room all day\nlong, so the next morning she went out again into the forest, and\nwandered through the beautiful dells and glades. After going some\ndistance she saw a young hunter lying down on the mossy bank asleep,\nand, approaching him cautiously, she found that she was now so very\nclose to him that it would be impossible to get away before he awoke.\nThen again, he was so handsome, that, instead of running away, she\nrubbed her little nose against the young hunter. What was her surprise\nto see that it was her dear Prince! for he, at her caress, opened his\neyes, and she at once recognised him. And when he jumped up and stroked\nand patted her, she trembled with delight and raised her beautiful eyes\nto his in the dumb eloquence of love.\n\n'Ah! little White Hind,' said he, 'if you only knew how miserable I am,\nand what the cause of it is, you would not envy me! I love you, little\nHind, and I will take care of you and look after you.' And with this he\nwent farther into the forest to find some green herbs for her.\n\nNow the Hind with a sudden fright found its heels again, and, just\nbecause she wanted so much to stay, she bounded off as fast as she could\ngo, and never stopped till she reached home, where in great excitement\nshe told Giroflee all that had happened.\n\nThe Prince, when he returned and found that the Hind had disappeared,\nwent back also to the hut, and told the old woman that the Hind had\ndeserted him just when he had been so very kind to it and had gone in\nsearch of food for it. The Warrior Prince then explained to Becafigue\nthat it was only to see the little Hind that he had remained so long,\nand that on the morrow he would depart and go away. But he did not.\n\nThe Princess in the meantime resolved to go a long way into the forest\non the morrow, so as to miss the Prince; but he guessed her little\ntrick, and so the next day he did the same as she. Then, suddenly, in\nthe distance he saw the Hind so plainly that he let fly an arrow to\nattract its attention. What was his dismay to see the arrow pierce the\nflank of the poor little Hind! She fell down immediately on a mossy\nbank, and swiftly the Prince ran up. He was so upset at what had\nhappened, that he flew and got leaves and stopped the bleeding. Then he\nsaid:\n\n'Is it not your fault, little flier? You ran away and left me yesterday,\nand the same would have happened to-day if this had not occurred.'\n\nThe Hind did not reply at all; what could she say? And besides, she was\nin too much pain to do anything but moan.\n\nThe Prince caressed her again and again. 'What have I done to you?' he\nsaid. 'I love you, and I cannot bear to think I have wounded you.'\n\nBut her moaning went on. At last the Prince resolved to go to the hut\nand get something to carry her on, but before he went he tied her up\nwith little ribbons, and they were tied in such a manner that the\nPrincess could not undo them. As she was trying to free herself she saw\nGiroflee coming towards her, and made a sign to her to hasten; and,\nstrange to say, Giroflee reached her exactly at the same moment as the\nPrince with Becafigue.\n\n'I have wounded this little Hind, madam,' said the Prince, 'and she is\nmine.'\n\n'Sir,' replied Giroflee, 'this little Hind is well known to me--and, if\nyou want to see how she recognises me, you will give her her liberty.'\n\nThe Prince then cut the ribbons in compliance with her request.\n\n'Come along, my little Hind,' said Giroflee; 'kiss me!'\n\nAt this the little Hind threw herself on Giroflee's neck. 'Nestle to my\nheart! Now give me a sigh!' The Hind obeyed, and the Prince could not\ndoubt that what Giroflee said was true.\n\n'I give her to you,' said the Prince; 'for I see she loves you.'\n\nNow when Becafigue saw Giroflee, he told the Prince that he had seen her\nin the castle with the Princess Desiree, and that he knew that Giroflee\nwas staying in a part of their own hut. Why could they not find out if\nthe Princess was staying there also? So the following night, the Prince\nhaving agreed, Becafigue listened through a chink in the wall of the\nhut, and what was his surprise to hear two voices talking! One said:\n\n'Oh, that I might die at once! It would be better than to remain a Hind\nall the days of my life! What a fate! Only to be myself to you, and to\nall others a little White Hind! How terrible never to be able to talk to\nmy Prince!'\n\nBecafigue put his eye to the chink and this is what he saw.\n\nThere was the Princess in a beautiful dress all shining with gold. In\nher lovely hair were diamonds, but the tears in her eyes seemed to\nsparkle even more brightly. She was beautiful beyond words, and\ndisconsolate beyond sorrow.\n\nBecafigue nearly cried out with joy at sight of her. He ran off at once\nand told the Prince.\n\n'Ah! seigneur,' said he, 'come with me at once and you will see in the\nflesh the maiden you love.'\n\nThe Prince ran with him, and when they came on tip-toe to the chink in\nthe wall, he looked and saw his dear Princess.\n\nThen so great was his joy that he could not be restrained. He went and\nknocked at the door, resolving to see his Princess at once.\n\nGiroflee, thinking it was the old woman, opened the door, and the Prince\nimmediately dashed into the room and threw himself at the feet of the\nPrincess, and kissed her hand and told her how much he loved her.\n\n'What! my dear little Princess, was it you that I wounded as a little\nHind? What can I do to show my sorrow for so great a crime?'\n\nThe way in which he spoke put all the doubts from the Princess's mind.\nThe Prince, knowing all, loved her. She bade him rise, and then stood\nwith downcast eyes, fearing the worst. Her fears were justified: in a\nmoment his arms were around her, and she was sobbing for joy on his\nbreast.\n\nThey had stood a moment so, when suddenly the Prince started and\nlistened. What sound was that? It was the tramp of armed men; nearer and\nnearer it came--the threatening sound of an advancing host. He opened\nthe window, and, on looking out, saw a great army approaching. They were\nhis own soldiers, going up against Desiree's father to avenge the insult\noffered to their Prince. And the King his father was at their head, in a\nlitter of gold.\n\nWhen the Warrior Prince saw that his father was there he ran out to him\nand threw his arms round his neck and kissed him.\n\n'Where have you been, my son?' said the King. 'Your absence has caused\nme great sorrow!'\n\nThen the Prince told him all about Long-Epine, and how the Princess had\nbeen changed into a Hind through her disregard of the Fairy's warning.\n\nThe King was terribly grieved at this news, and turned his eyes to\nheaven and clasped his hands. At this moment the Princess Desiree came\nout, mounted on a pure-white horse and looking more beautiful and lovely\nthan she had ever been. Giroflee was also with her as her attendant. The\nspell had been removed for ever.\n\nAt sight of them the old King blessed them, and said that he would give\nhis kingdom to his son as soon as he was married to the Princess\nDesiree. The Princess thanked him a thousand times for his goodness, and\nthen the King ordered the army to return to the city, for there would be\nno war, but only rejoicing.\n\nBack into the capital, a mighty procession--an army headed by its\nrulers, and victorious without striking a blow. Great was the joy of all\nthe people to see the Prince and the Princess, and they showered upon\nthem heaps of presents the like of which was never seen.\n\nThe faithful Becafigue begged the Prince to allow him to marry Giroflee.\nShe was delighted to have such a great offer, and more than delighted to\nremain in a land where she would always be with her dear Princess.\n\nNow the Fairy Tulip, when she heard all that had happened, resolved, out\nof the goodness of her heart, to give Giroflee a splendid present, so\nthat her husband should not have the advantage of being the richer. It\nwill astonish you to hear that she gave her four big gold mines in\nIndia; and you know what gold mines in India are worth.\n\nAnd the marriage feasts lasted several months. Each day was a greater\nday than the one before; and every day the adventures of the little\nWhite Hind were sung throughout the country, even as they are still\nsung, in boudoir, fireside, and camp, to this very day.\n\n\n\n\nIVAN AND THE CHESTNUT HORSE\n\nA RUSSIAN FAIRY TALE\n\n\nIn a far land where they pay people to keep its name a profound secret,\nthere lived an old man who brought up his three sons just exactly in the\nway they should go. He taught them the three R's, and also showed them\nwhat books to read and how to read them. He was particularly careful\nabout their education, for he had learned that to know things was to be\nable to do things.\n\nAt last, when he came to die, he gathered his three sons round his\ndeathbed and cautioned them.\n\n'Do not forget,' he said--'do not forget to come and read the prayers\nover my grave.'\n\n'We will not forget, father,' they replied.\n\nThe two elder brothers were great big, strapping fellows, but the\nyoungest one, Ivan, was a mere stripling. As they all stood around the\nbed of their dying father, he looked a mere reed compared to his proud,\nstout, elder brothers. But his eyes were full of fire and spirit, and\nthe firm expression of his mouth showed great determination. And, when\nthe father had breathed his last, and his two elder brothers wept\nwithout restraint, Ivan stood silent, his pale face set and his eyes\nfull of the bright wonder of tears that would not melt.\n\nOn the day that they buried their father, Ivan returned to the grave in\nthe evening to read prayers over it. He had done so, and was making his\nway homeward, when there was a great clatter of hoofs behind him; then,\nas he reached the village square, the horseman pulled up and dismounted\nquite near to him. After blowing a loud blast on his silver\ntrumpet--for he was the King's messenger--he cried in a loud voice:\n\n'All and every man, woman and child, take notice, in the name of the\nKing. It is the King's will that this proclamation be cried abroad in\nevery town and village where his subjects dwell. The King's daughter,\nPrincess Helena the Fair, has caused to be built for herself a shrine\nhaving twelve pillars and twelve rows of beams. And she sits there upon\na high throne till the time when the bridegroom of her choice rides by.\nAnd this is how she shall know him: with one leap of his steed he\nreaches the height of the tower, and, in passing, his lips press those\nof the Princess as she bends from her throne. Wherefore the King has\nordered this to be proclaimed throughout the length and breadth of the\nland, for if any deems himself able so to reach the lips of the Princess\nand win her, let him try. In the name of the King I have said it!'\n\nThe blood of the youth of the nation, wherever this proclamation was\nissued, took flame and leapt to touch the lips of Princess Helena the\nFair. All wondered to whose lot this lucky fate would fall. Some said it\nwould be to the most daring, others contended that it was a matter of\nthe leaping powers of the steed, and yet others that it depended not\nonly on the steed but on the daring skill of the rider also.\n\nWhen the three brothers had listened to the words of the King's\nmessenger they looked at one another; at least the elder two did, for it\nwas apparent to them that Ivan, the youngest, was quite out of the\ncompetition, whereas they, two splendid handsome fellows, were\ndistinctly in it.\n\n'Brothers,' said Ivan at last, 'our first thought must be to fulfil our\nfather's dying wish. But, if you prefer it, we could take it in turns to\nread the prayers over our father's grave. Let it be the duty of one of\nus each day to fulfil the duty, morning and evening.'\n\nThe elder brothers agreed readily to this, but, when Ivan asked whose\nturn it should be on the morrow, they both began to make excuses.\n\n[Illustration: IVAN AND THE CHESTNUT HORSE\n\nThe chestnut horse seemed to linger in the air at the top of its leap\nwhile that kiss endured.\n\n_See page 69_]\n\n'As for me,' said the eldest, 'I must go and order the work of the farm\nmy father left me, and that will take seven days.'\n\n'And for me,' said the younger, 'I must see to the estate which is my\npart of the inheritance, and that also will take seven days.'\n\n'Then,' replied Ivan, 'if I perform the duty for seven days, you will\neach do your share afterwards?'\n\nHis brothers agreed still more readily than before. Then they went their\nways, Ivan full of thoughts of his father, and the other two to train\ntheir jumping horses, the one on his farm and the other on his estate.\nAnd both laughed to themselves, for neither knew the purpose of the\nother.\n\nHow they curled their hair and cleaned their teeth, and practised\n'prunes and prisms' with their mouths close to the looking-glass!--so\nthat when, at one bound of their magnificent steeds, they reached the\nlevel of the Princess's lips, to aim the kiss that was to win the prize,\nthey would make a brave show, and a conquering one. As for their little\nbrother, they each thought he could go on praying over their father's\ngrave as long as he liked,--it would be the best thing he could do, and\nit would not interfere with their secret plans, so carefully concealed\nfrom each other and from him.\n\nSo, for seven days, in their separate districts, they raced about on\ntheir horses by day and dreamed of the greatest leaping feats by night.\nAnd at the end of the seven days the youngest brother summoned them to\nkeep their agreement, and asked which of them would read the prayers,\nmorning and evening, for the second seven days.\n\n'I have done my part,' he said; 'now it is for you to arrange between\nyou which one shall continue the sacred duty.'\n\nThe two elder brothers looked at each other and then at Ivan.\n\n'As for me,' said one, 'I care little who does it, so long as I am free\nto get on with my business, which is more important.'\n\n'And as for me,' said the other, 'I am in no mind to watch each blade\nof grass growing on the grave. I cannot really afford the time, I am so\nbusy. You, Ivan,--you are different: you are not a man of affairs; how\ncould you spend your time better than reading prayers over our father's\ngrave?'\n\n'So be it,' replied Ivan. 'You get back to your work and I will attend\nto the sacred duty for another seven days.'\n\nThe two elder brothers went their separate ways, and for seven more days\ndevoted their entire attention to training their horses for the flying\nleap at the Princess's lips. How they tore like mad about the fields!\nHow they jumped the hedges and ditches! How they curled their hair and\ndyed their moustaches and practised their lips, not only to 'prunes and\nprisms,' but to 'peaches of passion' and 'pomegranates,' and\n'peripatetic perambulation' and everything they could think of! In fact,\nthey paid so much attention to the lips which were to meet those of the\nPrincess at the top of the flying leap, that they began to neglect their\nown and their horses' meals. In other words, they were beginning to show\nsigns of over-training.\n\nAt the end of the second seven days Ivan again summoned them to a family\ncouncil, and asked them if either of them could now take up the sacred\nduty. But no; thinking heavily on horses and lips, and high jumps and\nkisses, they spoke lightly of fields to be tilled, seed to be sown, and\nall such things that must be done at once. Their view was--and they got\nquite friendly over it--that Ivan should be more than delighted to bear\nthis pleasurable burden of reading prayers over his father's grave.\nIndeed, nothing but the stern call of immediate duty would prevail upon\nthem to relinquish a task so pleasant.\n\n'So be it,' said Ivan; 'I will perform the sacred duty for another seven\ndays.' But as he spoke, he noted his brothers' curled hair and dyed\nmoustaches, and gleaned from this, and from the look of sudden suspicion\nand jealousy exchanged between them, that they were both in love with\nthe same fair one. But he kept this to himself, and left them to their\nown concerns.\n\nAgain, at the end of seven days, when Ivan had read the prayers\ndevoutly, he summoned his brothers. But they did not come. Both sent\nmessages saying that they were frightfully busy, and would he be so good\nas to go on with the sacred duty until they could be spared to do their\nshare later on. Ivan accepted their messages, and went on reading the\nprayers over the father's grave.\n\nMeanwhile each of his brothers prepared for the great flying leap; and\neach said to himself: 'What about Ivan? He would like to see this great\nexploit. It might make a man of him. He is altogether lacking in\nambition, and to see a great deed done might stir him to try to be a\ngreat hero himself. But yet--I fear it would never do. He is so weedy,\nso insignificant. I feel I should lose by having a brother like that\nanywhere about. No; he is far better reading prayers over our father's\ngrave.'\n\nSo each in his own way resolved to go in alone--apart from the other and\napart from Ivan.\n\nThe morning of the great day came. The eldest brother had chosen from\nhis horses a magnificent black one with arched neck and flowing mane and\ntail. The second brother had selected a bay equally splendid. And now,\nat sunrise, they were, each unknown to the other, combing their\nwell-curled hair, re-dyeing their moustaches, and booting and trapping\nthemselves for the wonderful display of prowess the day was to bring\nforth. And they did not forget to make sure that their lips were as fit\nas they were anxious for the 'high kiss.'\n\nAt the appointed time they rode into the lists and drew their lots, and\nneither was altogether surprised at seeing his brother among the host of\ncompetitors for the hand of Helena the Fair. Their surprise came later,\nwhen Ivan arrived on the scene.\n\nIt so happened in this way: that, towards evening, when his two brothers\nhad each had their last try to leap up to the Princess's lips and\nfailed, like every one else, Ivan himself was reading the prayers over\nhis father's grave. Suddenly a great emotion came over him, and he\nstopped in his reading. He was filled with a longing to look just for\nonce upon the face of Helena the Fair, for whose favour he knew that\nthe most splendid in the land were competing with their wonderful\nsteeds. So strong was this longing that he broke down and, bending over\nhis father's grave, wept bitterly.\n\nAnd then a strange thing happened. His father heard him in his coffin,\nand shook himself free from the damp earth, and came out and stood\nbefore him.\n\n'Do not weep, Ivan, my son,' he said. And Ivan looked up and was\nterrified at the sight of him.\n\n'Nay, my son, do not fear me,' his father went on. 'You have fulfilled\nmy dying wish, and I will help you in your trouble. You wish to look\nupon the face of Helena the Fair, and so it shall be.'\n\nWith this he drew himself up, and his aspect was commanding. Then he\ncalled in a loud voice, and, as the echoes of his tones began to die\naway, Ivan heard them change into the far-distant beat of a horse's\nhoofs. After listening for a while his father called again, and this\ntime the echo was a horse's neigh and galloping hoofs. It seemed beyond\nthe hillside, and Ivan looked up and wondered. A third time his father\ncalled, and nearer and nearer came the galloping sound, until at last,\nwith a thundering snort and a ringing neigh, a beautiful chestnut horse\nappeared, circled round them thrice, and then came to a halt before\nthem, its two forefeet close together and its eyes, ears, and nostrils\nshooting flames of fire.\n\nThen came a voice, and Ivan knew it was the voice of the chestnut horse\nwith the proudly arched neck and flowing mane:\n\n'What is your will? Command me and I obey!'\n\nThe father took Ivan by the hand and led him to the horse's head.\n\n'Enter here at the right ear,' he said, 'and pass through, and make your\nway out at the left ear. By so doing you will be able to command the\nhorse, and he will do whatever you may wish that a horse should do.'\n\nSo Ivan, nothing doubting, passed in at the right ear of the chestnut\nhorse and came out at the left; and immediately there was a wonderful\nchange in him. He was no longer a dreamy youth: he was at once a man of\naffairs, and the light of a high ambition shone in his eyes.\n\n'Mount! Go, win the Princess Helena the Fair!' said his father, and\nimmediately vanished.\n\nWith one spring Ivan was astride the chestnut horse, and, in another\nmoment, they were speeding like lightning towards the shrine of Helena\nthe Fair.\n\nThe sun was setting, and the two elder brothers, disconsolate, were\nabout to withdraw from the field, when, startled by the cries of the\npeople, they saw a steed come galloping on, well ridden, and at a\nterrific pace. They turned to look and they marked how Helena the Fair,\ndisappointed of all others, leaned out to watch the oncoming horseman.\nAnd the whole concourse turned and stood to await the possible event.\n\nOn came the chestnut horse, his nostrils snorting fire, his hoofs\nshaking the earth. He neared the shrine, and, to a masterful rein, rose\nat a flying leap. The daring rider looked up and the Princess leaned\ndown, but he could not reach her lips, ready as they were.\n\nThe whole field now stood at gaze as the chestnut horse with its rider\ncircled round and came up again. And this time, with a splendid leap,\nthe brave steed bore its rider aloft so that the fragrant breath of the\nPrincess seemed to meet his nostrils, and yet his lips did not meet\nhers.\n\nAgain they circled round while all stood still and tense. Again the\nchestnut steed rose to the leap, and, this time, the lips of Ivan met\nthose of the Princess in a long sweet kiss, for the chestnut horse\nseemed to linger in the air at the top of its leap while that kiss\nendured.\n\nThen, while the Princess looked after, horse and rider reached the\nground and disappeared like lightning.\n\nInstantly the host of onlookers swarmed in.\n\n'Who is he? Where is he?' was the cry on every hand. 'He kissed her on\nthe lips, and she kissed him. Look at her! Is it not true?'\n\nIt was true, for Princess Helena the Fair, with a lovelight in her eyes,\nwas leaning down and searching, with all her soul, even for the very\ndust spurned from the heels of her lover's horse. But she could see\nnothing, and sank back within her shrine, treasuring the kiss upon her\nlips; while the people, dissatisfied, but wondering greatly, melted\naway. Among them went the splendid brothers, seeking how they could sell\ntheir well-trained horses to advantage, for they had both been\nfrantically near to the Princess's lips.\n\nWhither had Ivan flown on the chestnut horse? Loosing the reins--he\ncared for nothing but the kiss--he let his steed go, and presently it\ncame to a standstill before his father's grave. There he dismounted and\nturned the horse adrift. As if its errand was completed, it galloped\noff; a rainbow came down to meet it, and, closing in, seemed to snatch\nit up in its folds. Ivan was alone before his father's grave.\n\nOnce more he bowed himself in prayer. Once more his father appeared\nbefore him.\n\n'Thou hast done well, O my son,' he said. 'Thou hast fulfilled my dying\nwish, but my living wish is yet to be fulfilled. To-morrow Helena the\nFair will summon the people and demand her bridegroom. Be thou there,\nbut say nothing.'\n\nWith this Ivan found himself alone.\n\nOn the following day there was a great gathering at the palace, and, in\nthe midst of it, sat Princess Helena the Fair demanding her\nbridegroom--the one who had leapt to her lips and won her from all\nothers. Her heart and soul and body were his. The half of her kingdom to\ncome was his. She, herself, was his;--where was he?\n\nSearch was made among the highest in the land, but, fearing a demand for\nthe repetition of the leap and the kiss, none came forward. Ivan sat at\nthe back, a humble spectator.\n\n'She is thinking of that leap and that kiss,' said he to himself. 'When\nshe sees me as I am, then let her judge.' But love, though blind, has\neyes. The Princess rose from her seat and swept a glance over the\npeople. She saw the two handsome elder brothers and passed them by as so\nmuch dirt. Then, by the light of love, she descried, sitting in a\ncorner, where the lights were low, the hero of the chestnut horse,--the\none who had leapt high and reached her lips in the first sweet kiss of\nlove.\n\nShe knew him at once, and, as all looked on in wonder, she made her way\nto that dim corner, took him by the hand without a word, and led him up,\npast the throne of honour, to an antechamber, where, with the joyous\ncries of the people ringing in their ears, their lips met a second\ntime,--at the summit of a leap of joy.\n\nAt that moment the King entered, knowing all.\n\n'What is this?' said he.\n\nThen he smiled, for he understood his daughter, and knew that she had\nnot only chosen her lover, but had won her choice.\n\n'My son,' he added, without waiting for an answer, 'you and yours will\nreign after me. Look to it! Now let us go to supper.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE QUEEN OF THE MANY-COLOURED BEDCHAMBER\n\nAN IRISH FAIRY TALE\n\n\nOne day in the long ago, the sun shone down upon a green wood whose\nmightiest trees have since rotted at the bottom of the ocean, where the\nbest masts find a grave. While the sunlight slept on the bosom of the\nfoliage, a horseman galloped in the shade beneath. The great chief Fion,\nson of Cumhail, was looking for his knights, whom he had outstripped in\nthe hunt.\n\nHe reined in his steed in a broad glade, and blew his bugle loud and\nclear. Beside the echoes repeated among the hillsides, there was no\nanswering call. He rode on, pausing now and again to blow another and\nanother bugle-blast, but always with the same result.\n\nAt length the wood grew more scattered, and presently he came out upon a\nstretch of plain where the grass was so green that it looked like\nemerald; and beyond it in the distance, at the end of the sloping plain,\nhe could see the seashore, and the ocean rising like a wall of sapphire\nup to the farthest horizon.\n\nDown by the shore he could see figures moving, and, thinking that his\nknights had found their way thither, he rode like the wind down the\nlong, gentle slope towards them. As he drew nearer and nearer, he saw\nthat there were twelve of them, and they were playing at ball. By the\nmighty strokes they gave with the _coman_ he guessed that these were the\ntwelve sons of Bawr Sculloge, for none but them could drive the ball so\nhigh and far. Tremendous were their strokes, and, when they ran after\nthe ball, they outstripped the wind.\n\nAs Fion drew rein and dismounted, they stopped their play; and, drawing\nnear, welcomed him loudly as the helper of the weak, and the protector\nof the green island against the white-faced stranger.\n\nWhen he had returned their greeting, they invited him to join them in\ntheir game--if such an amusement was agreeable to him.\n\n'Fion, son of Cumhail,' said one, 'here, take my _coman_ and wipe away\nthe vanity and conceit of all comers, for we are practising for a great\ncontest.'\n\nFion took the _coman_ and looked at it, holding it up between his finger\nand thumb.\n\n'I doubt if I could do much good with this plaything,' said Fion; 'it\nwould break at first blow if I were to strike at all hard.'\n\n'Never let that stand in the way,' returned the other. 'Wait!'\n\nHe then searched upon the ground among the blades of grass, and at\nlength found a nettle, which he pulled up by the roots. Having breathed\na charm over it, he passed it three times from one hand to the other,\nand lo, it was changed into a mighty _coman_, fit for the hand of Fion,\nson of Cumhail.\n\nThen they were amazed at his terrific blows. The ball, struck by Fion,\nsoared almost out of sight in the sky, and fell to earth far off. But,\neach time, the fleet-footed sons of Bawr Sculloge retrieved it.\n\nAt last Fion bared his arm to the shoulder, and, with a final blow, sent\nthe ball out of sight. None saw it go; none saw it fall. They all stood\nand looked at each other.\n\n'My hand on it,' said the eldest son of Bawr, advancing to Fion. 'I live\nto admit that I never saw the game played till to-day.'\n\nAs they were speaking, a voice hailed them; and, turning seawards, they\nsaw a small boat approaching. As soon as it touched the beach, a man\nsprang ashore, and hastened towards them.\n\n'Hail! Fion, son of Cumhail!' he cried. 'You are known to me, though not\nI to you. My lady, the Queen of Sciana Breaca, lays a knight's task upon\nyou. Hasten forthwith, and have speech with her on her island. The hand\nof Flat Ear the Witch is upon her, and her chiefs have advised her to\nsummon you to her aid.'\n\n'I know it,' replied Fion. 'The Salmon of Wisdom, which comes up from\nthe sea, breeds knowledge in my brain. I know what is passing in all the\nislands, but I fear that my efforts against witchcraft would be\nunavailing. Nevertheless, I will try. I will choose, from the twelve\nsons of Bawr Sculloge, three that I need, and together we will follow\nyou to the island.'\n\n'But, noble chief, you have no boat here, and mine will hold only one\nother beside myself.'\n\n'Let not that trouble you,' replied Fion. 'I will provide a boat for us\nfour, and we will follow you.'\n\nWith this he selected from the twelve sons the three that he needed.\nThey were Chluas, Grunne, and Bechunach. Then he plucked two twigs of a\nwitch hazel that grew near by, and they all proceeded to the beach.\nThere he held the two twigs out over the water, and, in a moment, the\none became a boat and the other a mast with sail set. He sprang in and\nthe three followed, and presently they were speeding over the sea,\nsetting their course by that of the stranger in his boat.\n\nThey sailed for many hours before they came to the island of the Queen\nof the Many-coloured Bedchamber. There they passed between high rocks,\nand entered a quiet harbour, where they moored their boat to a stout\npillar and set a seal upon the fastening, forbidding any but themselves\nto loose it for the space of one year, for they knew not how long their\nquest would last. Then they went up into the palace of the Queen.\n\nThey were gladly welcomed and treated with the most generous\nhospitality. When they had eaten and drank, the Queen led them into a\nvast bedchamber decorated in the form and manner of the rainbow. Over\nthe ceiling were the seven colours in their natural order. Round the\nwalls they ranged themselves in the same fashion, and even the carpet\nitself was formed of seven hues to correspond. If the rainbow itself had\nbeen caught and tied up in a room, the effect could not have been more\nremarkable. It was indeed a many-coloured bedchamber!\n\nTaking Fion by the hand, the Queen led them all into a corner of the\nbedchamber, where she pointed to a little cot in which a child lay\nsleeping.\n\n'I had three children,' she said as she stood at the head of the cot,\nwhile Fion and the others gathered round. 'When the eldest was a year\nold it was carried off by that wicked witch, Flat Ear. The next year,\nwhen the second one was twelve months old, it suffered the same fate.\nAnd now my youngest here, who is twelve months old to-day, has fallen\nsick, and I fear to lose him in the same manner. This very night the\nwitch will surely come and snatch my child away unless you can prevent\nher.'\n\n'Take comfort, fair Queen,' said Fion. 'We will do our best. If you will\nleave this chamber to us we will watch over your child and see that it\ncomes to no harm. And, if it be possible to capture the witch, depend\nupon it we shall do so. Too long she has worked her wickedness upon\nthese lands.'\n\nThe Queen thanked him and withdrew. Soon the sun was set, and, as the\nchild slept on and the shadows gathered, Fion and the three brothers set\ntheir watch in the Many-coloured Bedchamber. Presently servants came in\nand set wine before them--honey-mead and Danish beer, and metheglin and\nsweet cakes. And, while they regaled themselves, the servants brought\nchessmen and a board, and Grunne and Bechunach played chess while Fion\nand Chluas watched by the bedside.\n\nHours passed while the two chess-players were absorbed in their game and\nthe other two kept watch and ward. Then, towards midnight, while Fion\nwas alert and wakeful, he saw Chluas sink his chin on his breast,\novercome by an unnatural sleep. Thrice Chluas strove to rouse himself,\nbut thrice he sank into a deeper sleep.\n\n'Wake up, Chluas!' cried Grunne, as Bechunach was considering his next\nmove. 'Wake up! We have a pledge to keep.'\n\nChluas roused himself. 'Yes, yes,' he said; 'we have a pledge to keep.'\nAnd then his chin sank gradually on his breast again, and he was once\nmore a victim to the same unnatural sleep.\n\n'Let him alone,' said Fion. 'I will watch.'\n\nAnd the two brothers went on with their game of chess.\n\nSuddenly a chill wind swept through the bedchamber. The fire in the\ngrate flickered, and the candles burned low: the child in the cot\nstirred and moaned.\n\n'See that!' said Fion in a hoarse whisper, pointing to the fireplace.\n\nThey turned and looked. It was a long, lean, bony hand reaching down the\nchimney and groping in the direction of the cot. The fingers were spread\nout and crooked, all ready to clutch. Slowly the long arm lengthened and\ndrew near the cot. It was about to snatch the child, when Fion darted\nforward and seized it in an iron grip.\n\nThere was a violent struggle, for Fion had the arm of the witch in his\npowerful grasp. He held on so masterfully that the witch, in her frantic\nefforts to draw it away, fell down the chimney, rolled across the fire,\nstruck Fion a terrific blow on the temple with her other hand, and then,\nfalling on top of his unconscious body, lay still, her shoulder torn and\nbleeding.\n\nGrunne and Bechunach quickly ran to Fion's aid, and, leaving the witch\nfor dead, quickly withdrew his body and restored him to consciousness.\nThen, when they turned to see to the witch, they found that both she and\nthe child had vanished.\n\nThey sprang to their feet and roused Chluas roughly. But he sank to\nsleep again immediately.\n\n'What shall we do?' they all asked of Fion.\n\n'Follow!' said he; 'follow where I lead. Grunne, pick up your bow and\narrows; Bechunach, knot your ladder of cords. Follow me, both of you.\nLeave Chluas sleeping: he is not in his body; his spirit goes with us,\nand we cannot do without it.'\n\nSo Grunne gathered up his bow and arrows and Bechunach his rope, and the\nthree, leaving the body of Chluas like dead wood, went forth to seek the\nwitch.\n\nThey came to the seashore, loosed their boat, sped across the harbour\nand out between the high rocks. Then, guided by the loosed spirit of the\nsleeping Chluas, they sped forward on the ocean, driven by a freshening\nbreeze. All the while the spirit-light, floating above the waves, led\nthem on.\n\nIt was some two hours before dawn when they descried, in the distance,\nthe lighted tower of the witch, upon an island. A dull, red flame shot\nout from it, and, as it turned for ever on itself, this flame lighted\nthe sea around like a revolving wheel, clear and red against the\nsurrounding blackness.\n\nNearer and nearer they approached it. Then Fion stood up in the boat and\nchanted magic spells, raising his arms and sinking them again with\nfingers stretched and his palms downwards. Then with a loud cry he\ncalled for sleep to descend on the vile witch of the revolving tower.\n\nEre yet his cry had died away on the surrounding sea the red light\nceased to revolve. It was still, glaring dully. Then, as the boat\ntouched the beach beneath the tower, Fion commanded Bechunach to throw\nhis knotted cord and noose the topmost turret.\n\nIt was soon done. The noose caught, and held. And, in another moment,\nBechunach, like a wild cat of the mountain, was climbing up. Fion and\nGrunne followed, while the spirit of Chluas, who lay fast asleep in the\nMany-coloured Bedchamber, guided and directed their every movement.\n\nThey gained a window of the tower and made their way in. Following the\ngleam of the dull, red light, they went from room to room, and at last\ncame to one where it shone clearly through the cracks of the door. They\nburst in, and stood aghast on the threshold at the sight that met their\ngaze.\n\nThere on the floor lay the witch, in a magic sleep, the blood flowing\nfrom her shoulder, torn by Fion in the struggle. And there, around her,\ncrying bitterly, were the Queen's three children.\n\nFion stooped down and swept his arm round them, and took them aside and\ncomforted them. Then he gathered the youngest to his breast, and,\ndirecting Grunne and Bechunach to see to the other two, he led the way\nto the window.\n\nIn a very short time they had all climbed down the rope ladder and were\nspeeding away in the boat. But, as they left the island, the spell was\nreleased. The tower, with its wheel of red light, began again to revolve\nupon the waters, and they heard the witch's shriek of rage as she awoke\nto the pain of her wound, to find the children gone. It came again and\nagain, that shriek of baffled hate and rage and pain. Then, as they\nlooked back, they saw a dark form glide down the walls of the tower like\na loathsome thing creeping head downwards. It reached the foot and sped\nto the seashore. Then it seemed to loose a boat, and, in another moment,\nit was speeding in pursuit of them. Faster and faster over the waves it\ncame.\n\n'Quick!' cried Fion to Grunne. 'Draw your bowstring to your ear. You\nwill not miss: the spirit of the sleeper will guide your shaft.'\n\nGrunne fitted an arrow to his bowstring, and drew it to his ear. Then,\nas Fion shot forward his outstretched hands, casting a vivid light from\nhis finger-tips over the surface of the sea, the arrow sped with a twang\nand a whiz.\n\nA terrible cry came back across the water. The witch, struck to the\nheart, threw up her arms, and, falling from her boat, sank in the sea.\n\nFion put down his hands, and then all was dark, save for a dull red\nlight which flickered and played above the spot where the witch had\nsunk; and they sped on.\n\nNow they neared the harbour, and saw a multitude of people waiting, with\ntorches waving. When they gained the foothold of the land, with the\nthree children in their arms, the people raised a mighty cheer. The\nQueen heard it and hastened to meet them.\n\nGreat was her joy on receiving her three children at the hands of Fion.\nAnd she showered upon him every blessing, entertaining him and his\ncomrades--the three sons of Bawr Sculloge--for a whole year. And every\nyear thereafter--lest the deed be forgotten--on the anniversary of the\nday she sent a boat laden with gold and silver and precious stones, and\nshields and helmets and chess-tables and rich cloaks; and the sons of\nBawr Sculloge invited Fion to join them in high festival on that day,\nfor they said, 'Such deeds should never be forgotten.'\n\nAnd, one morning in spring, Fion, son of Cumhail, went into the gardens\nand orchards about his palace and plucked many twigs from flowers and\nfruit trees, and with these he went down to the seashore. Holding them\nabove the waves, he recited a spell, and immediately a boat was formed\nof the twigs--a trim little craft with sail set.\n\nHe sprang in and steered his course for the isle of the Queen of the\nMany-coloured Bedchamber. And, as he sped over the waves, the boat began\nto bud; and green leaves appeared on the mast, and the spars and stays\nput out the growth of spring, till they shone like emerald in the sun.\n\nWhen he came in sight of the island, the sides of the boat were covered\nwith blossoms, the mast had put out a wealth of petals, and the sail and\nrigging were covered with flowering vines. Then, as he passed between\nthe high rocks and entered the harbour, the watchers on shore saw a boat\napproaching, splendid with summer flowers, and on its mast were\nspreading branches dropping down with luscious fruit. Nearer and nearer\nit came, and, when it touched the shore, Fion sprang out, and bade them\ngather the beautiful flowers and the ripe fruit and take them to their\nQueen.\n\nAnd Queen Breaca valued this present more than any other he could have\noffered, because the manner of it was beautiful, and a Queen is a woman,\nand a woman loves beautiful things above all else.\n\nAnd Chluas, the sleeper--what reward had he? He claimed none, and none\nknows what was his reward. Yet it is said that in the Land of Deep Sleep\nthere are rewards undreamt of by those who wake.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BLUE BIRD\n\nA FRENCH FAIRY TALE\n\n\nThere was once upon a time a King who was tremendously rich both in\nmoney and lands. His wife, the Queen, died, and left him inconsolable.\nHe shut himself up for eight days in a little room, and banged his head\nagainst the wall so much that it was believed he would kill himself, so\ngrieved was he at his loss.\n\nAll his subjects resolved between themselves to go and see him, and they\ndid. Some said that he could show his grief in a less painful manner.\nOthers made speeches grave and serious, but not one of them made any\nimpression on the widowed King. Eventually there was presented to him a\nwoman dressed in the deepest mourning, and she cried and moaned so long\nand so loud that she caused no little surprise.\n\nShe said to the King that she did not like the others coming to ask him\nto stay his crying, for nothing was more just than that he should cry\nover the loss of a good wife; and that as for her, who once had the very\nbest of husbands, and had lost him, she would cry for him as long as she\nhad eyes in her head to cry with; and immediately she let out and\nredoubled her sobs, and the King, following her example, did the same.\n\nEach one recounted to the other the good qualities of their dear dead\nones; so much so that at last there was nothing more could be found to\nsay about their losses and their great sorrow. In the end the widow\nlifted her deep veil, and the poor afflicted King gazed at the afflicted\none, who kept turning and turning her great blue eyes with long black\nlashes. The King watched her with deep attention; and little by little\nhe talked less of his lost Queen, until at last he forgot to talk of her\nat all.\n\nThe widow then said that for ever she would cry and mourn for her\nhusband, but the King begged her not to go to that limit and immortalise\nher sorrow. In the end he astonished her by saying that he would marry\nher, and that the black would be changed into green and pink, the colour\nof roses. It suffices to say that the King did as the stories tell: did\nall that was possible and all that she wished.\n\nNow the King had but one daughter of his first marriage, and she was\nconsidered one of the eight wonders of the world; her name was Florine,\nbecause she resembled a beautiful flower: she was fresh, young and\nlovely. She was always dressed in the most beautiful transparent\nclothes, and with garlands of flowers in her hair, which made a\nbeautiful effect. She was only fifteen years old when the King married\nagain.\n\nThe new Queen also had, by her first husband, a daughter, who had been\nbrought up by her godmother, the fairy Soussio; but she was neither\nbeautiful nor gracious. The girl's name was Truitonne, because her face\nwas so like the face of a trout, and her hair was so full of grease that\nit was impossible to touch it; and her skin simply ran with oil. But the\nQueen did not love her any the less. All she could do was to talk of the\ncharming Truitonne, and how Florine had all sorts of advantages over\nher; and the Queen became desperate, and sought every possible way to\nmake the King see faults in Florine.\n\nOne day the King said to the Queen that Florine and Truitonne were big\nenough to marry now, and that the first Prince who came to the court\nshould have one of the two Princesses in marriage.\n\n'I maintain,' said the Queen, 'that my daughter shall be the one to get\nthe trousseau; she is the elder, and she is a million times more\namiable, and those are the points that matter, after all.'\n\nThe King, who hated disputes, said that it was well, and that she was\nher own mistress.\n\nSome time afterwards, news came that Prince Charming had arrived. Never\ndid a Prince display such gallantry and magnificence; his manner and\nlooks were in keeping with the name he bore. When the Queen heard of\nthis handsome Prince she employed all the dressmakers and tailors to\ndress Truitonne, and make her presentable, and she begged the King that\nFlorine should have nothing at all new. Her one thought was to have all\nthe beautiful clothes ready before the arrival of Prince Charming at\ncourt.\n\nWhen he came the Queen received him in all pomp and splendour, and\npresented to him her daughter more brilliant than the sun, and more ugly\nthan she was usually, because of all the jewels she had on.\n\nPrince Charming turned away his eyes; the Queen tried to persuade him\nthat the Princess pleased him very much. But he demanded to know if\nthere was not another Princess called Florine? 'Yes,' said Truitonne,\npointing with her finger; 'see, there she is, hidden away, because she\nis not good.'\n\nFlorine reddened, and looked so beautiful, so beautiful, that Prince\nCharming forgot himself. He bowed the knee and made a low curtsy to the\nPrincess. 'Madam,' said he, 'your incomparable beauty is too much; but\nfor you I should have sought help in a strange land.'\n\n'Seigneur,' replied the Princess, 'I am sorry that I am not dressed in a\nproper manner, but I have only my old clothes; yet I thank you for\nasking to see me.'\n\n'It would be impossible,' said Prince Charming, 'that any one once\nseeing you could have eyes for anything else than so beautiful a\nPrincess.'\n\n'Ah!' said the Queen, irritated, 'I do well wasting my time listening to\nyou. Believe me, seigneur, Florine is also a coquette; she does not\ndeserve that you should be so gallant to her.'\n\nPrince Charming understood the motives of the Queen in speaking of\nFlorine in this way. He was not in a position to prove the truth, but he\nlet it be seen that all his admiration was for Florine.\n\nThe Queen and Truitonne were very upset to see that he preferred\nPrincess Florine. So, when Princess Florine left the company of Prince\nCharming, the Queen with impatience waited for her to return to her\nroom. There were hidden four men with masks over their faces, and they\nhad orders to take the Princess Florine away on a journey, to await the\npleasure of Prince Charming, so that she would please him better and\nwould make him a better spouse.\n\nThe Queen then went to the Prince and told him that the Princess was a\ncoquette, and had a bad temper; that she tormented the servants, and did\nnot know how to behave herself; that she was avaricious, and preferred\nto be dressed like a little shepherdess rather than like a Princess.\n\nTo all this Prince Charming listened. 'But,' said he, 'it would be\nimpossible for so beautiful and amiable a girl to be all that you say.\nHow could that be true of one with such modest grace and beauty? even\nthough she be dressed in a humble little frock. That is not a thing that\ntouches me very much. It pains me far more to know that the Queen hurts\nher feelings, and you are not a stepmother for nothing; and really,\nmadam, the Princess Truitonne is so ugly that it would be hard to find\nanything uglier amongst God's creatures. The courtiers, too, do not look\nat all pleased to hear you speak badly of Florine.'\n\nThe Queen spent half of the night questioning him, for she could not\nbelieve that he loved Florine. And the poor Princess Florine was\nterrified because the four men with masks had taken her far away.\n\n'I do not doubt that it is for the Queen's advantage that I am taken\naway,' said she. And she cried so much that even her enemies were\ntouched.\n\nThe Queen in the meantime gave Prince Charming all the jewels he could\nwish for, and lavished her attention on him. The King presented him with\na little book with gold covers and studded with diamonds, and inside it,\nhe told him, was a photograph of his future wife.\n\n'What!' said Prince Charming, 'the beautiful Princess Florine? Ah! she\nthinks of me, and in a most generous manner.'\n\n'Seigneur,' said the King, 'you mistake; we take the part of the amiable\nTruitonne. I am cross, seigneur, that you do not accept this great\nhonour; but, at the same time, a King is merely a King: he is not master\nenough to make the engagements that he would like.'\n\nThe Prince at last asked for Princess Florine.\n\n'Seigneur,' said the Queen, 'her father desired that she should go away\nuntil my daughter is married.'\n\n'And for what reason,' said the Prince, 'should this beautiful girl be\nmade a prisoner?'\n\n'I ignore all that,' said the Queen.\n\nSo the Prince left the Queen's company because it was not congenial to\nhim. When he entered his own room, he said to a young Prince who had\naccompanied him, and whom he loved very much, that he would give all the\nworld to be able to speak to one of the women of the beautiful Princess\nfor a moment. His young friend found one at once whom it would be\npossible to question with confidence. She told him that the same evening\nFlorine would be at a little window that looked out on to the garden and\nthat he could then speak to her, but that he must take every precaution,\nlest the Queen and King should overhear.\n\nThe Prince was delighted, and made ready to see the Princess. But the\nwicked maid went at once and told the Queen all that had passed. It was\nthen arranged that Truitonne should take her place; and so, with great\nprecautions, Truitonne placed herself at the little window.\n\nThe night was very dark; so much so that it was impossible for Prince\nCharming to suspect the change passed upon him. He expressed himself\nexactly the same to Truitonne as he had to Florine and plainly showed\nhis love for her. Truitonne, profiting by her mother's instructions,\nsaid that she was the most unhappy person in the world to have such a\nwicked and cruel stepmother, and that she would have to suffer until her\nstepsister was married. The Prince assured her that he would marry her\nif she would have him, and that he would give her his heart and his\ncrown; and he removed a ring from his finger and put it on the finger\nof Truitonne, as a token of his faith, and told her that she would only\nhave to wait an hour, when a carriage would come to take her away.\nTruitonne begged of him to go to the Queen and ask her to give her her\nliberty, and assured him that, if he would come back to-morrow at the\nsame hour, she would be ready.\n\nThe Queen was very happy at the success of her scheme. The Prince took a\ncarriage drawn by three great frogs with great big wings, which made the\ncarriage simply fly. Truitonne came out mysteriously by a little door,\nand the Prince, who was awaiting her appearance, at once put his arms\naround her and swore eternal faith, but, as he was not in any humour to\ntake a long journey in the flying carriage without marrying the Princess\nwhom he loved, he demanded of her where they could go. She told him that\nshe had a fairy godmother named Soussio, who was a very celebrated\nperson, and that they would have to go to her castle.\n\nThen the Prince, not knowing the road, begged of the frogs with the\nflying wings to put them on the right way; and they did so, for, mind\nyou, frogs know all the routes of the universe. And so, in no time, they\nfound themselves at the castle of the fairy Soussio.\n\nThen Truitonne told the godmother that she had trapped Prince Charming\nand that she wanted to marry him. The godmother was not so sure that it\ncould be done, 'for,' said she, 'he loves Princess Florine.' At all\nevents she went to the room where the Prince was, and said to him:\n'Prince Charming, here is the Princess Truitonne to whom you have given\nyour faith; she is my godchild, and I wish that you marry her at once.'\n\n'Me!' cried he; 'you want me to marry that little monster? You must\nthink I am very easily pleased when you put forward such a proposition\nto me. She knows full well that I have never promised her anything. And\nif she says otherwise, she is----'\n\n'Do not deny,' said the Fairy, 'and do not be bold and forget the\nrespect that you owe me.'\n\n'I respect you,' replied the Prince, 'as much as it is possible to\nrespect a fairy. Come, now. Will you deliver me my Princess?'\n\n'Is it that you do not know me?' said Truitonne; and she showed him his\nring, adding, 'and to whom did you give this ring at the little window\nas a pledge of your faith, if it was not to me? Come, now, do not\npretend that you have forgotten.'\n\n'No! no! I am not going to be duped and deceived,' said the Prince.\n'Come! come, my great frogs! I want to depart at once.'\n\n'You cannot depart without my consent, said the Fairy, and she\nimmediately touched his feet and they became glued to the floor.\n\n'I will not,' said the Prince, 'have any other than my Princess Florine;\non that I am resolved, and all you say and do will not change me one\nlittle bit.'\n\nSoussio became sweet and used every art in her power to induce the\nPrince to marry Truitonne. Truitonne cried, raved, and begged; but the\nPrince would not say one single word to her; he only looked at her with\nindignant eyes and replied not a word to all her overtures.\n\nHe passed twenty days and twenty nights like this. At last the Fairy was\nso tired of it all that she said to the Prince, 'Very well; you are\nobstinate, and will not listen to reason, and will not keep your word\nand marry my godchild!'\n\nThe Prince, who had not spoken a word, at last replied: 'Do to me what\nyou will, but deliver me from the dullness of this place!'\n\n'Dullness!' cried Truitonne; 'bother you! You have done me a great\ninjury in coming here to my country and giving me your word and then\nbreaking it.'\n\n'Listen to the touching words,' said the Prince in sarcasm. 'See what I\nhave lost in refusing to take so beautiful a woman for my wife.'\n\n'No! no!' replied Soussio, 'she shall never be that, and for your\ninsult to her you shall fly through this window, and remain a Blue Bird\nfor seven years. Do you hear me?--a Blue Bird for seven years.'\n\nImmediately the Prince began to change, and his arms became covered with\nfeathers, and he became a Blue Bird; his eyes became bright, and on his\nhead a great white plume arose like a crown--and he flew away through\nthe window.\n\nIn his sad mood he flew from branch to branch, warbling his song of\nsorrow and his love for Florine, and deploring the awful wickedness of\ntheir enemies. He thought that he was doomed for seven years, and that\nFlorine would be married to another.\n\nWhen Truitonne returned to the Queen and told her all that had happened\nshe flew into a terrible temper. She resolved to punish the poor Florine\nfor having engaged the love of Prince Charming. So she dressed the\nPrincess Truitonne in all her grandeur, and on her finger was the ring\ngiven her by the Prince; and, when Florine saw this, she knew that the\nring belonged to her Prince. The Queen then announced to all that her\ndaughter was engaged to Prince Charming, and that he loved her to\ndistraction. Florine did not doubt the truth of it all. When she\nrealised that she would never marry her Prince Charming, she cried all\nthe night, and sat at the little window nursing her regrets. And, when\nthe day arrived for the marriage, she shut the window and continued to\ncry.\n\nDuring this time the Blue Bird, or Prince Charming, did not cease to fly\nround the castle. The Princess sat at the window and every night\nentreated that she might be delivered. 'O wicked Queen!' she cried, 'to\nkeep me shut up like this because of Prince Charming!'\n\nThe Blue Bird heard this and did not lose a word, but waited to see who\nthe lady was who had such a sorry plaint. But she shut the window and\nretired. The Blue Bird, curious to see and to hear some more, came again\nthe following night, and again there was a maiden at the window who was\nfull of regrets.\n\n[Illustration: THE BLUE BIRD\n\nThe Prince took a carriage drawn by three great frogs with great big\nwings ... Truitonne came out mysteriously by a little door.\n\n_See page 86_]\n\n'Fortune!' said she, 'you have taken from me the love of my father. I\nhave received a blow at a tender age; and it is so much pain that I am\ntired of living. I demand with all my heart that my fatal destiny may\nend.'\n\nThe Blue Bird listened, and then he knew that it was his Princess, and\nhe said: 'Florine, a King who loves you will never love any one but\nyou.'\n\n'A King who loves me!' said she. 'Is this another snare of my enemies?'\n\n'No, my Princess.' And Florine was very much afraid of this bird who\nspoke with as much spirit as a man. But the beauty of his plumage\nreassured her.\n\n'Would it be possible to see you, my Princess?' said he. 'Could I taste\na happiness so great without dying of joy? But, alas! this great joy\nwould be troubled by your captivity, and the wicked fairy Soussio has\ndone this for seven years.'\n\n'And who are you, charming bird?' said the Princess caressingly.\n\n'You have said my name rightly, and yet you fail to recognise me,'\nreplied the Prince.\n\n'What! The greatest King in the world! The Prince Charming!' cried the\nPrincess. 'Is he the little bird I see?'\n\n'Alas! dear Florine, it is too true! And, if one thing consoles me, it\nis that I prefer this sorrow rather than renounce the love I have for\nyou.'\n\n'For me!'\n\nAnd so this went on. The Blue Bird paid visits to Florine every night,\nand they were as happy as it was possible to be. One evening Prince\nCharming flew away to his palace, and brought back lovely diamond\nbracelets, beautiful pearl necklaces and a sweet little pearl watch, and\ngave them all to Florine.\n\nThe Queen could not understand how it was that Florine had such lovely\njewels and why she looked so happy, so she questioned her about it.\nFlorine, who knew that if she said the Blue Bird had given them to her,\nthey would not believe her, and would try to drive him away, said she\ndid not know. The Queen said the Evil One must have bought her soul, and\ndecided to watch.\n\nShe did so, and discovered that the Blue Bird came every night. Then\nTruitonne and her mother sought the help of the wicked fairy Soussio;\nand she, to please her godchild, worked another spell on the poor Blue\nBird, so that he could not come any more to see his Florine.\n\nOne day his friend the Good Fairy was passing by a certain spot where he\nwas a prisoner in a tree, and she saw a trail of blood and heard a very\nweak voice calling her, but nowhere could she find the Blue Bird. But\nshe knew it was his blood. Then, after a long time, she found him in his\ntiny nest, dying.\n\nThis was the Good Fairy who had given him the flying-frog carriage, so\nagain she resolved to help him if she could. Away she went to the fairy\nSoussio and asked her to release the spell on Prince Charming. Soussio\nagreed to do so if he would marry Truitonne. Then the Good Fairy\nconducted Prince Charming back to his castle, where, on his arrival, the\nugly Truitonne was awaiting his return, dressed in lovely clothes, and\nmore ugly than ever.\n\nNow the old King died, and the people, who hated the Queen and her ugly\ndaughter, said that they would have no other Queen but Florine, and they\nwent to her in her little room and begged her for their sake to be their\nQueen. But she said she had not the heart for anything because she had\nlost her lover, Prince Charming. They asked her again to become their\nQueen and then to go out and look for him, and they were sure she would\nfind him.\n\nSo she became their Queen, and then dressed herself as a poor peasant,\nand went out into strange lands and travelled in many strange places,\nthinking to find her beloved Prince. But it was all of no avail. One day\nshe stopped, out of sheer fatigue, to rest by a fountain, and, while she\nwas there, the Good Fairy, disguised, came by and asked her what she was\ncrying for. Florine told her all about the Prince whom she loved and was\nseeking. Then the Good Fairy told her that Prince Charming was at his\nown castle and that the spell had been removed, and she gave Florine\nfour little eggs, and said that whenever she was in trouble she was to\nthrow one of them down, and at the same time ask what she wanted, and it\nwould be granted. With these words she disappeared.\n\nFlorine turned her face towards the castle of the Prince, and, after\nmany trials and sufferings, she found herself at the feet of her ugly\nsister Truitonne. Florine, disguised as a poor peasant, was not\nrecognised, so she offered her lovely jewels for sale, and Truitonne,\nwho loved jewellery, resolved to buy them. But Florine would not sell\nfor money: all she asked was to spend a night in the castle. Truitonne\nwas only too glad to get them at such a price, and agreed.\n\nFeeling that the poor peasant girl was giving her something for nothing,\nand imagining that she did not really know the value of the jewels,\nTruitonne allowed her sister every liberty in the palace. She could go\nwhere she would, unquestioned, and do what she pleased.\n\nFlorine took every advantage of this, and, mixing freely among the\nattendants, she soon learned many things about Prince Charming. Among\nother pieces of news was this important item: the Prince, being unable\nto sleep, was in the habit of taking a sleeping-draught every night.\n\nOn hearing this she sought the Prince's head valet, and made herself so\ncharming to him that he lost his head altogether, and was more than\nwilling to fulfil her lightest wish.\n\n'Tell me,' said she at last, 'why does the Prince take\nsleeping-draughts?'\n\n'Ah!' replied he, looking very wise, 'it is because the Princess is so\nugly.'\n\n'Because she is so ugly? I--I don't understand.'\n\n'What! From the very first the Prince's waking hours have been one long,\nfrightful dream; and he can only banish it by night by taking the\nsleeping-draught. The Prince is deeply in love with the Princess's\nsister, but no one but myself knows that. Every night, when he sinks to\nsleep under the draught, he smiles, and his face looks so very happy,\nand he whispers one name again and again: \"Florine! Florine!\"'\n\nThe peasant girl's heart beat hard, and a plan shot like lightning\nthrough her mind. She would tell this man everything and he would help\nher. She knew he would, and she knew also that he would not be blind to\nhis own advantage. Her mind was quickly made up. The four little eggs\nthe Good Fairy had given her were packed in a little box. Taking this\nfrom the folds of her dress she took one of them and threw it on the\nfloor.\n\n'I _am_ Florine!' she said. 'And I want your willing help.'\n\nThe head valet stared at her in dismay. Then his face changed. He bowed\nto her with the utmost respect, and said: 'Princess, I am your faithful\nslave; command me and I will obey.'\n\n'First, then,' said Florine, 'do not give the Prince the draught\nto-night; and find me an apartment next to his.'\n\n'It shall be done,' replied the valet, and with a low bow he withdrew to\nmake the arrangement.\n\n'Stay!' cried Florine as he was going. 'I forbid you to tell the Prince\na word of this. You understand?'\n\n'And obey,' he replied, bowing again and again as he left her presence,\nwalking backwards in respect to high royalty.\n\nThat night the Prince, impatient to forget the face of Truitonne, called\nfor his sleeping-draught. The head valet appeared, bearing a flavoured\nmixture in a crystal goblet on a golden tray. The Prince drank it. By\nits taste it was the draught, but, by its effect, it was not. No sleep\ncame to him, and the face of Truitonne grew uglier and uglier in his\nmind. Presently he started up.\n\n'What sound was that?'\n\nIt came from the next apartment--the sound of a woman weeping. He\nlistened, and in the stillness of the palace the sound came clearly. He\nknew that voice: it was the voice of his dear Princess Florine, just as\nhe used to hear it when, as a Blue Bird, he spoke with her at her\nwindow.\n\nIn a moment he arose and dressed himself in his royal robes. While he\nwas doing this, Florine in the next room took another egg from the box,\nand, throwing it upon the floor, cried: 'I wish that, by storm and\nlightning, all that is evil and ugly in this palace shall be destroyed,\nand all that is good and beautiful left.'\n\nAs she spoke the rising wind wailed about the palace and died away; dull\nthunder reverberated in the distance. The air grew stifling, and the\nnight flowers paid their perfumes out like threatened debtors. Another\nrush of wind, then silence broken only by a peal of thunder nearer than\nbefore. The splash of heavy drops was heard on the flagstones of the\ncourtyard below. The lightning was seen to flash through the windows,\nand the thunder shook the castle to its foundations.\n\nNearer and nearer loomed the storm, growing more terrific every moment.\nEvery one was up and running about in panic. Those with ugly souls and\nbodies, if their consciences were also wicked, went mad in the panic,\nand fled in a body from the palace, thinking the end of the world had\ncome. But those whose consciences were clear, whose hearts were\ntrue--those who could never be called ugly, no matter what they looked\nlike--they sought the Prince and gathered round him, while the palace\nshuddered as all the storm gods poured out their wrath.\n\nAs the panic-stricken ones fled towards the hills, Florine looked out at\nthe window and saw them, a rushing group with terror in their heels.\nThere came a vivid flash of lightning, and the thunder split and rolled\nand crashed. When Florine looked again she saw no fugitives: they had\ndisappeared for ever. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the storm\nabated. The thunder rolled away into the distance, and the moon came out\nand rode from cloud to cloud triumphant.\n\nThere was a knock upon the door. It was the Prince, and behind him were\ngathered his own, the good and true, according to her wish. How could\nshe meet him in her peasant's garb? A quick thought came to her. She\ntook the third egg and smashed it on the floor, saying: 'I wish that I\nmay come face to face with my Prince in all the dazzling splendour that\nbefits a princess.'\n\nInstantly there was a flash as if a fairy wand had cleft the air. And\nthere stood Florine, the most splendidly royal figure you could imagine.\nShe was beautiful beyond words--so beautiful that the wonderful jewels\nin her hair and on her lovely dress, on her neck and arms and tiny\nshoes, could never have got their beauty from any one but her.\n\nShe opened the door, and stepped back with a cry of delight. As she did\nso, she placed her hand to her breast where she felt the frail little\nbox that contained the fourth and last egg.\n\nIn another moment she was in the Prince's arms, and the pressure of that\nembrace crushed the box and broke the egg.\n\n'I wish,' she cried on the instant, raising her lips to his, 'I wish\nthat you will love me for ever!'\n\n\n\n\nBASHTCHELIK (OR, REAL STEEL)\n\nA SERBIAN FAIRY TALE\n\n\nThe aged Tsar was dying, and his three sons and three daughters were\nstanding round his bed. He had yet strength to give his last commands,\nwhich were extraordinary.\n\n'It is my will, O my sons,' he said, 'that you give my daughters in\nmarriage to the first suitors that come to demand them. Question me not,\nbut fulfil to the letter this, my last injunction. If you fail, my curse\nwill fall upon you.'\n\nThese were the Tsar's last words before he died. It was approaching the\nhour of midnight when he passed away; and, when the dawn found his sons\nand daughters weeping for grief, they were startled by a dreadful noise.\nCame a loud beating against the palace gates, and instantly an awful\ntempest sprang up around the palace. Peal on peal of thunder roared, and\nvivid lightning flashed. The whole place rocked and swayed and trembled\nto its foundations. Then above the fearful din came a loud voice: 'In\nthe name of a King, open the gates!'\n\n'Do not open!' cried the eldest brother.\n\n'See to it that you do not open!' insisted the younger one. But the\nyoungest disregarded them both, and rushed to the gates.\n\n''Tis I will open!' he flung back to them as they followed at his heels.\n'Though the earth dissolve, what have we to fear? We have done no\nwrong!'\n\nWith this he flung the gates wide. There was no one there, but a\nsizzling light moved in towards them, and, out of the heart of it came a\nclear, cold voice:\n\n'I have come to demand the hand of your eldest sister in marriage.\nForbid me not. I await your consent, but, if you refuse, it will be at\nyour peril.'\n\nThe eldest brother answered at once, without a glance at the other two:\n'It is unheard of! I cannot see you; I do not know you; who is to know\nwhere or how you will bestow my sister? I might never see her again.' He\nturned to the younger one and added, 'What say you, brother?'\n\n'For my part, I will not consent,' replied he readily. 'I like not these\nsigns of ill omen.'\n\nThen they both turned to the youngest.\n\n'What say you, little brother?'\n\nHe was quick to answer:\n\n'I obey my father, and counsel you to do the same. It is not that I fear\nhis curse, but I love him, and will obey his wish.'\n\nWithout waiting for any reply he ran within, and soon returned, leading\nhis eldest sister by the hand.\n\n'Here,' said he, offering her to the unseen visitant, 'in accordance\nwith the custom of my country and the dying wish of my father, I give\nyou my sister for your wedded wife. May she be faithful to you.'\n\nThe Princess was then taken by an invisible hand and led away; and, as\nshe stepped across the threshold of the palace gates, a tremendous clap\nof thunder burst overhead; the lightning flashed again, and the whole\nearth rocked at the sound and sight of it; and, at terror of it, the\ncourtiers who had gathered round fell on their faces and prayed for\ndeliverance with all their might.\n\nWhen the sun rose, the palace was still astir. None had slept, so none\nhad dreamed; therefore, when eyes met eyes, the truth was known: a\nterrible thing had happened, but none knew how it had happened. All\nsought to find some clue to explain the disappearance of the eldest\nPrincess, but there was no clue to the midnight mystery of the thing.\n\nAnd on the second night the same terrible thing occurred again. The\npalace was stormed by thunder and lightning till its foundations\nquaked. Then, above all, came another commanding voice: 'Open the gates\nimmediately--in the name of a King!'\n\nAgain the elder brother demurred, and again the youngest admitted the\ninvisible but powerful applicant, and bestowed upon him the second\nsister.\n\n'I trust she will be loyal and faithful to you,' he said; and, as she\nstepped over the threshold, the elements roared like a great lion\nglutting on his prey. And still, to the courtiers who stood by, the\nmystery of the thing was greater than their fear of the quakings of the\nearth and the sudden gasps of icy air that smote them.\n\nAgain, on the third night, while the youngest sister, who was very\nproud, was preparing to reject a suitor promised by her brothers, a\ngreater storm than ever swept up about the palace, and, to hear it, one\nwould have thought that half the world were rolling down a hill. It was\nterrific, and still more terrific was a voice that cried: 'Open these\ngates, in the name of a King who comes on his own business!'\n\nAs before, the two elder brothers demurred, but the youngest was more\nobedient to his father's dying wish. He bestowed the youngest sister\nupon the first to seek her hand. And, as she stepped over the threshold,\nthe whole palace trembled and fluttered as if disturbed by the wings of\na thousand giant eagles.\n\nThe two elder brothers mourned and grieved for their sisters, saying\nthey were lost for ever. How could they see them again? How could they\nvisit them? They were gone--swallowed up in the invisible.\n\n'It is not so,' said the youngest. 'We have fulfilled our father's\ncommand. We have done no wrong; though the skies fall down, what have we\nto fear? Follow me forth: we will go and search for them!'\n\nAnd so, not knowing what had befallen their sisters, nor whom they had\nmarried, they set out to search far and wide for them.\n\nAfter journeying for some days, they reached a wild, inhospitable\ncountry, where, in a mighty forest so dense they could see neither the\nsun by day nor the stars by night, they lost their way. But still they\npushed on, hoping to find an outlet. At last, after wandering for days,\nthey came at sunset to a small lake, where they prepared to pass the\nnight.\n\nThe eldest watched while the two younger brothers slept.\n\nIn the middle of the night, while his brothers slept soundly, he was\ngazing upon the waters of the lake, watching the moonbeams play with the\nripples stirred by the soft night wind, when he saw a great black head\nappear on the surface and rapidly approach the shore where he was\nstanding. Presently, as the monster emerged from the water, he found\nhimself face to face with a great alligator rushing upon him to devour\nhim.\n\nLike lightning he drew his sword and smote the alligator between the\neyes, cleaving its head in one mighty stroke. Then, when it had ceased\nits death struggles, he cut off both its ears and placed them in his\nhaversack.\n\nAs his brothers still slept he resolved to say nothing about the matter,\nand, to this end, he rolled the carcase of the alligator down the\nshelving shore into the water, where it sank like lead. At sunrise he\nroused his brothers, and, with few words, they resumed their wandering.\n\nAfter three days struggling through the forest, they came to another\nlake, where they camped for the night. This time the second brother\nwatched, while the eldest and the youngest slept.\n\nAnd he, too, had a strange adventure, but more terrible than that the\neldest brother had encountered. At midnight the waters of the lake began\nto move, and a great alligator with two heads emerged and came up on the\nshore. Then, with both mouths wide open and his long sharp teeth\ngleaming in the moonlight, the monster rushed at the watcher and the\nsleepers. But the watcher sprang forward, sword in hand, and dealt two\nterrific blows, one on each head, killing the alligator instantly. Then\nhe cut off the four ears and placed them in his haversack, and rolled\nthe huge carcase back into the lake. As the eldest brother had done, he\nkept the matter to himself, and let his brothers sleep on.\n\nIn the morning he aroused them, and they all set out again on their\nwandering.\n\nDuring that day they came to the edge of the forest, but only to find a\nvast desert before them. Their hearts sank within them, but, nothing\ndaunted, they set forth, saying one to the other, 'There is no desert\nthat has no boundaries. We shall come to the other side.'\n\nBut for three whole days they journeyed on, and all was still desert as\nfar as the eye could see; and their food and water were exhausted, and\nthey were sore distressed. Then, as they saw that the desert had no end,\nthey cried to God to deliver them. And it seemed that the haze of the\ndesert lifted, and they saw before them a lake, calm and peaceful. On\nits shore they would spend the night.\n\nHaving refreshed themselves from its waters, and eaten of some luscious\nfruits that grew upon its margin, they made their camp; and this time\nthe youngest brother watched while the other two slept.\n\nAnd he, also, had an adventure, but far more terrible than either of his\nbrothers had encountered. As they were sleeping soundly, and he was\nlooking at the still surface of the lake, something heaved up out of the\ndepths and swam rapidly towards him. When it came up out of the water he\nsaw that it was a monstrous alligator, with three heads. As it advanced\nupon him, with all three mouths wide open, ready to devour him and his\nsleeping brothers, he sprang to meet it, and, with three mighty strokes\nlike flashes of lightning, severed the three heads from the body. Then\nhe cut off the six ears and placed them in his haversack. As the other\ntwo brothers had done, he, also, kept the matter to himself.\n\nIt was not yet dawn, and the fire was burning low. In order to replenish\nit the young Prince went into the surrounding desert to look for fuel.\nAfter searching for some time in vain, he mounted a rock and looked\naround; and there, not very far away, he saw the gleam of a fire. He ran\ntowards it, knowing he should find some fuel. But, when he arrived at\nthe place where the fire was burning, he found the glare of it came from\nwithin a large cave. Creeping forward cautiously, he peered in, and saw\na strange sight. The fire was blazing in the middle of the floor, and\nround it sat nine giants, eating the flesh of human beings, whose limbs\nthey drew from a huge cauldron over the fire.\n\nHorrifying was this sight to the Prince. He made up his mind to trick\nthe giants. He advanced boldly into the cave and gave them greeting.\n\n'Good-morrow, my friends,' he cried jauntily; 'I've been searching for\nyou everywhere.'\n\n'Good-morrow, friend!' replied the biggest of the giants. 'And, if\nyou're indeed one of us, you will, of course, join us in our feast, and\nthen help us in our search for more.'\n\n'With every pleasure!' cried the Prince; 'indeed, I need hardly thank\nyou for the kind invitation, since I am at all times ready to assist you\nin your hunting expeditions. I have a rare tooth for the flesh of\nmortals, and the bigger they are the better I like them.'\n\nThe giants looked at one another and grunted approvingly. Then said the\nchief: 'Since you are with us, what is your name?'\n\n'I am Nine Man Mord,' replied the Prince, taking the name of that hero\nof a far land who had slain nine men in so many strokes of his sword. 'I\nhave journeyed from the North and have come to dwell among you, and be\none of you.'\n\nThey were all astonished, for they had heard wonderful stories of Nine\nMan Mord; and they seemed to forget that they themselves were nine.\n\n'Come, Nine Man Mord!' they cried; 'come, sit and eat with us.'\n\nReadily the Prince took his place among them; but, though it seemed to\nthem that he ate of the human flesh, he did not really do so. While\npretending to eat, he told them such tales of his adventures in the far\ncountry that none of them noticed he was not eating, but disposing of\nthe flesh cunningly, sometimes by throwing it behind him, and again by\noffering a tit-bit to one or another in token of friendship.\n\nWhen the feast was over, the giants rose and stretched themselves.\n\n'Now,' said the biggest one, 'we'll go a-hunting. There's always\nto-morrow's feast to be thought of. We go, O Nine Man Mord, to the\nTsar's city. There is still good flesh to be got there, though we have\nbeen feeding on it for many, many years. And, I may tell you, as the\nprey is not so plentiful as it used to be, it affords all the better\nsport in the taking.'\n\n'I'm with you,' replied the Prince, 'and, maybe, I can show you a trick\nor two.'\n\nSo they set out and journeyed together--the nine giants and the\nPrince--till they came to the outskirts of a large and beautiful city.\nHere, in the surrounding forest, the giants plucked up two great trees\nby the roots, and took them to the city walls, where they placed one\ntree as a ladder.\n\nThen the chief giant said to the Prince: 'O Nine Man Mord, climb by this\nto the top of the wall, and then we will pass the other tree up to you\nso that you can fix it as a ladder on the other side for all of us to\ndescend by.'\n\nThe Prince climbed the tree-ladder; and, when he had reached the top of\nthe wall they pushed the other tree up to him.\n\n'Now,' he called down, 'I don't quite know how you want it placed. Will\none of you come up and show me?'\n\nIn answer to this the chief himself climbed up and swung the tree over\nroots first, while he held and steadied it by its topmost branches. At\nthis moment the Prince, unseen by the others, drew his sword, and, with\none stroke, hewed off the giant's head. It fell within the city walls,\nand, in another second, the headless body went tumbling after it.\n\n'Now,' he cried down to the others, 'it's all fixed, and your chief has\ngone down. Come up one by one, and I will hold the tree for you, and\nsteady it, so that you can reach the ground quickly.'\n\nAnd they came up one by one; and, one by one, off went their heads; and\nthey, and their bodies after them, reached the ground very quickly. Then\nhe climbed down the tree, and over the piled carcases of the nine\ngiants, and made his way into the city.\n\nIt was true what the giants had said; for, although the sun had not yet\nrisen, signs were not wanting that the city, if not deserted, was very\nthinly inhabited. The streets were neglected; the houses for the most\npart were falling to decay; and though, no doubt, those who remained--if\nany--feared a visit from the man-eating giants, still no watch was set,\nand the Prince, as he made his way through the streets, saw no one.\n\nAt last, as he went on, he espied a high tower, and, at one of its\nwindows, there was a light. He made his way to this tower, and quickly\nran up the stairs leading to the room that contained the light. At last,\nseeing its rays through the crack of the door, he turned the handle and\nentered.\n\nA strange sight met his gaze as he stood a moment on the threshold. It\nwas a splendid apartment of velvet and gold, magnificently decorated;\nbut what immediately riveted his eyes was the figure of a beautiful\nprincess sleeping upon a richly furnished couch. She was lovely to look\nupon; and, as he advanced into the room, he could see nothing but her.\nPresently, however, a hiss greeted his ears; and, looking up, he was\nstartled to see a huge snake lying on the ledge above the couch, with\nits arched neck bent down ready to strike the sleeping girl.\n\nWith a loud cry the Prince tried to attract its attention; then, as it\nraised its head, he snatched his dagger from his belt, and, with one\nblow, pinned its head to the wall.\n\n'Hold wood! Hold dagger!' he cried, releasing the hilt. 'None can draw\nthat blade from the wall but him who planted it there!'\n\nThen, without waking the beautiful maiden, he stole from the room and\nwent back over the city wall, and beyond, till he came again to the\ngiants' cave, where he quickly gathered some fuel and hurried back to\nhis brothers, whom he found still sleeping. When he had set the fire in\na blaze, he watched till the hour of sunrise, and then woke them with a\nloud cry:\n\n'Arouse ye, my brothers; the day is here!'\n\nBut he told them nothing of his adventures of the night.\n\nWhen they set out they came very soon to a high-road that led to the\ngates of the Tsar's city. Now it was the daily practice of the Tsar to\nwalk in the ways of the city for an hour after sunrise, and bewail the\ndeath of those of his people who had perished by the hands of the\ngiants, and also to pray fervently that his own daughter would never so\nperish. So it was that on this same morning he came, by his wanderings\nthrough empty streets, to the part of the wall where the tall\ntree-ladder was standing; and, as he drew near, he saw with amazement\nthe great bodies of the giants lying on the ground, each with his head\nsevered from his body.\n\nWhen the Tsar saw this he raised his hands to high heaven and cried,\n'This is a great day, for the giants are all slain!' And the people, who\nstill remained to him, hearing his cry of joy, came running, and\ngathered about him, praying that God would preserve the mighty one who\nhad done this astonishing deed. They were still praising the unknown\nhero, when some attendants came running swiftly from the palace, to tell\nthe Tsar that a great snake had almost succeeded in killing the\nPrincess.\n\nAt this he hastened back and made his way to the room in the tower where\nthe Princess was lying asleep; and there he found the snake pinned to\nthe wall by a dagger. At once he took the hilt in his hand and tried to\ndrag it from the wall, but, to his great wonder, it resisted all his\nefforts.\n\nOn this, seeing the great strength of the hero who had planted the\ndagger there, and knowing that none but he could have the strength to\nremove it, he ordered a proclamation to be issued throughout the whole\nkingdom: that, if the man who had killed the nine giants and pinned the\nhead of the snake to the wall with his dagger, would come and draw his\ndagger forth again, he would be rewarded with splendid gifts and receive\nthe Princess in marriage.\n\nFar and wide went this proclamation, but the Tsar, to make doubly sure,\nposted a thousand officials at as many inns on the great high-roads that\nconnected the city with the outlying parts of the kingdom. And these\nofficials' duty was to question travellers, and learn whether they had\nmet, or heard of, any such hero as he who had killed the giants and\ntransfixed the snake. Rewards were offered to any who could supply\ninformation, and punishments were held out to those who concealed it.\n\nNow it so happened that the three Princes, in their search for their\nsisters, chanced to rest at an inn on one of the high-roads; and, when\nthey had finished supper, they fell into conversation with an\ninteresting stranger--a courtly man of cities, with manners that are\nonly learnt in kings' palaces. He begged to be allowed to call for\nwine,--which in those days was no offence,--and, as they drank their\ntoasts, he fell to narrating his wonderful exploits in a far-off\nkingdom--so far-off, indeed, that imagination alone could reach it, and\nno other traveller could ever return to tell a different tale.\n\nAfter describing some heroic combats the stranger at last remarked, 'And\nwhat may be the doughty deeds that you young heroes have set to your\ncredit?'\n\nAt this the eldest brother told how he had slain the alligator; and, to\nvouch for the truth of his story, showed the two ears he had preserved,\nplacing them before the stranger.\n\nWhen the unknown had applauded his story the younger brother told how he\nhad slain the alligator with _two_ heads, and threw down on the table\nthe four ears as evidence.\n\nThe stranger applauded more loudly than before, and then turned to the\nyoungest brother; but he remained silent.\n\n'Come,' said the stranger, coaxing him; 'your brothers have performed\ngreat exploits: have you not followed their example?'\n\nThen the young Prince replied: 'I am only young; but, now I think of it,\nI _did_ kill an alligator once, myself. It was a rather ferocious beast\nin its way, and had _three_ heads; but I managed to--well, here are its\nears.' And he threw the six ears on the table.\n\nAt this his two brothers were as much astonished as the stranger; for,\nthough he was the youngest, he had done the bravest deed. The\nofficial--for such was the stranger--then begged the young Prince to\ntell of his other exploits. So the hero told how he had slain the\ngiants. This was enough for the official: he sprang up and hastened away\nto the palace, where he informed the Tsar that he had found the mighty\nhero for whom every one was searching.\n\n[Illustration: THE STORY OF BASHTCHELIK\n\nThe Prince, looking out, saw him snatch up the Princess ... and soar\nrapidly away.\n\n_See page 108_]\n\nThe Tsar was delighted; and having rewarded the official, sent for the\nPrinces in all haste. When they arrived, he bade them tell all they had\nbeen through, and listened to their adventures with all attention. And,\nwhen they had finished, he turned to the youngest brother and said:\n'Your exploits, young sir, are the most extraordinary of all I have\nheard. But all of you follow me to the tower; I would make\ncertain--_quite_ certain!'\n\nBeckoning the three brothers to follow him, he led the way; and,\nfinally, they reached the room where the youngest had pinned the snake's\nhead to the wall.\n\nThe couch was empty, but the snake and the dagger were still there, just\nas the young Prince had left them.\n\nThen said the Tsar, addressing the eldest: 'Draw forth the dagger!'\n\nThe eldest brother seized the hilt, and put forth all his strength; but\nthe dagger did not move.\n\nThen said the Tsar: 'It is so. Let your younger brother try.'\n\nHis words were obeyed; but the dagger was immovable.\n\nThen said the Tsar: 'It is so. Let the youngest try.'\n\nHis words were obeyed. The youngest Prince took the hilt, and, with a\nmighty wrench, tore it from the wall; then, as he restored it to its\nsheath at his side, the snake fell at his feet.\n\n'It is so!' said the Tsar. 'It was your hand saved my daughter's life. I\nwill give her to you in marriage, and you shall be my Prime Minister.'\nThen, to the two elder Princes, he said: 'If you would prefer to remain\nwith your brother in my country I will bestow two ladies of the land\nupon you for wives, and give you suitable castles to live in.'\n\nBut, though the youngest accepted the Tsar's offer with a proud\npleasure, the other two excused themselves with thanks, saying that it\nwas only right for their brother to remain, but, for themselves, their\nduty was to carry out the quest for their lost sisters.\n\nThe Tsar honoured their refusal, and, having given orders that they\nshould be escorted from the city with every mark of royal favour, bade\nthem farewell; and they departed the richer by two asses laden with\ngifts of gold and silver and precious stones. Shortly afterwards, the\nyoungest Prince and the Princess were married; and the whole city\nrejoiced for three days with great celebrations.\n\nBut the Prince, much as he loved his wife, soon began to blame himself\nfor accepting this great happiness so easily when the quest of his lost\nsisters was his first duty. On this account he began to pine, and the\nPrincess could not comfort him.\n\nOne day, when his grief threatened to sink him in remorse, the Tsar came\nto him with a bunch of nine keys in his hand, and said: 'My son; I am\ngoing forth to the hunt; but you remain, and, with these keys, you may\nopen some delights while I am absent.'\n\nThen he took him and showed him the doors of nine rooms of the palace,\nassuring him he would find great joy in the first four, a more hidden\njoy in the next three, and, in the eighth, a summing up of all the joys\nin the four and the three; but--the ninth he must not enter; for, what\nwas there, no man could endure.\n\nWhen the Tsar had gone to the hunt, the young Prince opened the doors\none by one, and he was truly amazed at what was revealed to him. The\nfirst four led him to all the delights of earth; the next three to all\nthe delights of heaven; and the eighth to the Great Joy of Earth and\nHeaven in one.\n\nAnd now he stood at the door of the ninth.\n\n'What is here?' said he. 'What is here that is denied me? I have slain\nthe three-headed alligator; I have hewed off the heads of nine giants; I\nhave vanquished the serpent that encircles the world, and rescued the\nPrincess from his lowering fangs. Surely the Tsar is testing me! Come\nwhat may, I will enter at this door; for he who does not go on, slides\nback.'\n\nWith this he selected the key; and, inserting it in the lock, opened the\nninth door, and entered. What an unexpected sight was there! The joys of\nthe four, the three, and the eighth--were they at last bound up in\nthis?--this man with the strength of the under-world in his limbs, the\nstrength of the mid-world in his set face, and the strength of the skies\nin his calm gaze beneath tortured brows?\n\nThere, before him, was a man, bound, it seemed, by all the bonds of the\nuniverse. His legs were encircled with bands of iron, which, at their\nfastenings into the floor, were rusted. His hips and loins were bound\nwith lead. A copper girdle held his breast. A silver band enthralled his\ntongue and hands, and what seemed like a spider's web of thin,\nlight-blue wire encircled his body and gathered itself in a circlet of\nthe same woven material upon his brows. Truly, if ever a man was fast\nbound, this man was; for, in addition to all these things, there was a\nring of gold round his neck, and from it extended thick cables of\nplatinum, which were firmly riveted into four strong beams, one in each\ncorner of the room. Around him, on the eight sides of the room, were\nopen windows revealing all the joys of the eight chambers; but the man\nwas bound in the centre.\n\nAnd, as the Prince looked upon him, the captive gasped, 'O young man,\nfor the love of God, bring me a cup of water from yonder fountain; and\nI, in return, will give thee another life.'\n\nThe Prince at once drew him the draught from the nearest fountain,\nthinking the while that it would be good to have a life to spare. Then,\nwhen the chained captive had drunk the water eagerly, the two looked at\none another.\n\n'What is your name?' asked the Prince.\n\n'My name is Bashtchelik, which, as you know, means \"real steel.\"'\n\n'Farewell, then, Bashtchelik; I hear the hoof-beats of the Tsar's horses\nin the distance.' And he turned towards the door.\n\n'Nay, leave me not!' cried Bashtchelik, and then he implored him: 'Give\nme a second cup of water, and I will give you a second life.'\n\nThe Prince drew him another cup of water and handed it to him with a\ngood heart, thinking, as it was returned to him empty, that a second\nlife was well worth having. Then, hearing the approach of the Tsar more\ndistinctly, he bade farewell a second time and turned away; but the\ncaptive again besought him.\n\n'O mighty one!' he cried; 'do not leave me. I know thee, I know thy\nname; I know thy noble deeds. Twice hast thou given me to drink; I pray\nthee, do it yet a third time and I will give thee a third life.'\n\nHastily the Prince filled the cup and gave him to drink, for the Tsar\nand his company were now at the gates, and he knew not how to face him.\nBut, before he could gain the door, he heard a crash behind him; and,\nlooking back, he saw that the captive had broken his bonds and stood\nfree. Then, before one could say it had happened, he had loosed a great\npair of wings from his sides, and rushed through the doorway. The\nPrince, looking out, saw him snatch up the Princess, his wife, from the\nterrace of the Palace, and soar rapidly away.\n\nEre the beating of wings was lost in the distance, the Tsar came in and\ndemanded to know why the ninth room was open and the captive gone. The\nPrince then explained everything, and begged the Tsar not to be angry.\n\n'He broke his bonds,' he said, 'and has gone, taking my wife--the\ndaughter that you gave me--away with him. But give me leave, and I will\nfind her and kill Bashtchelik.'\n\n'Alas!' replied the Tsar, 'you have done a rash thing. You know not this\nman. I lost the best part of a whole army in capturing him. What can you\ndo, my son?'\n\n'I will go forth and seek him,' replied the Prince without wavering. 'If\nhe is stronger than I, then you will see neither me nor my wife again;\nbut, if I prevail, we will return to you.'\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSo the Prince set forth on his quest; and after three days' journey, he\ncame to a beautiful city. And, as he rode beneath the walls of a\ncastle, he heard a voice from a window high in the tower, calling to\nhim. He drew rein and dismounted; then, as he advanced into the\ncourtyard, a girl came running towards him.\n\n'O my brother!' she cried; 'you have come at last!'\n\nIt was his eldest sister whom he had found so easily. They embraced and\nkissed, and then she led him into the castle.\n\n'And your husband?' he asked as they stepped aside into a dimly-lighted\nantechamber; 'who and what is he?'\n\n'He is the Dragon King,' she replied in a whisper; 'and he is no friend\nof my brothers. Yet I will hide you, and then ask him what he would do\nif you sought me out.'\n\nThat evening, when the Dragon King came home on whirring wings, there\nwas no sign of either the Prince or his charger. Yet he raised his\nnostrils in the air and sniffed.\n\n'I smell a human being,' he said. 'Confess, woman; who is it?'\n\n'No one,' replied she. But he was certain about the matter, saying that\nhis senses had never yet deceived him, though a woman might.\n\n'That is nought,' said she. 'But, tell me; if my brothers came to look\nfor me, how would you take it?'\n\n'If your eldest brother came here,' replied the Dragon King, 'I would\neat him raw. Your second brother I would stew gently over a slow fire,\nor, if he were nice and fat, I should roast him to a turn; but your\nyoungest brother--him I would spare.'\n\nThen said she, 'O King, my youngest brother, who is your brother-in-law,\nis here in your castle. I will summon him.'\n\nIt was a great meeting between the young Prince and the Dragon King. One\nwould have thought that they had known each other for years. They\nembraced and wished each other health and long life; and then they sat\ndown to a sumptuous banquet quickly brought in by winged attendants, who\nwere evidently of the uneducated dragon classes;--indeed, though richly\nattired, they looked like slaves.\n\nIn the course of conversation the Prince happened to mention that he was\non the track of one Bashtchelik, who had run off with his wife against\nher will.\n\n'Bashtchelik!' exclaimed the Dragon King. 'My dear brother, I beseech\nyou, seek him not. This kingdom itself put out five thousand strong, and\ntook him unawares. But he escaped by a trick, gave battle to ten\nthousand of my picked dragons, fought his retreat to the mountains, and\nso escaped triumphant. Man to man--you against Bashtchelik--you cannot\nhope to win. If you will go back to your home, I will give you an escort\nand three asses laden with gold.'\n\n'Three asses laden with gold!' said the Prince. 'I thank you much, but I\nhave better than that: I have three lives, which I won from Bashtchelik\nhimself. I will seek him and reclaim my wife.'\n\nThe Dragon King wondered at his words; then, plucking a feather from his\nwing, he said, 'You are determined, and I wish you well. Take this\nfeather, and, if at any time you want my aid, burn it and I will come to\nyou instantly with ten thousand chosen dragons.'\n\nThe Prince thanked him, and placed the feather in his girdle. The next\nmorning he took leave of his sister and the Dragon King, and set out in\nsearch of Bashtchelik.\n\nHe left the city and crossed a desert, where he endured fatigues and\nencountered perils; but still, by his strong right arm, he preserved his\nthree lives. Then, at last, he came to a city; and, as he took the\nmainway of it, the same thing happened as before. It was a woman's voice\ncalling from a castle tower: 'O Prince! Dismount and come in hither!'\n\nAgain he made his way into a courtyard, and again he was met by a\nwoman--his second sister--who greeted him with joy. Soon she led him\ninto her boudoir, and immediately he asked: 'My sister, who is your\nhusband?'\n\n'He is the Eagle King,' said she.\n\nThen, as it had happened with the Dragon King, so it happened with the\nEagle King. He came whirring home from a great height, and, by the\nartfulness of his wife, he met and embraced the young Prince; for,\nthough the Eagle King would have pecked out the livers of the elder\nbrothers, he was glad to meet the youngest. A feast was spread, and,\nafterwards, the talk led on to Bashtchelik.\n\n'Bashtchelik!' cried the Eagle King. 'Young man, will you listen to me?\nOnce we battered him with ten thousand pairs of wings and assailed him\nwith ten thousand beaks, but he triumphed. For one man to go up against\nhim is as a thistledown attacking a whirlwind. Do nought. Stay with me:\nI will give you all you desire.'\n\nBut, as the Prince held fast to his purpose, the Eagle King plucked a\nfeather from his wing and gave it him.\n\n'If you are in sore straits,' he said, 'burn this feather, and, on the\ninstant, I will come to your aid with ten thousand eagles.'\n\nThen the Prince, thanking the Eagle King, set forth once more. And, in\nhis further journeying, he again came to a city, and heard, beneath a\ncastle wall, a woman's voice calling to him.\n\nIt was his youngest sister. She also contrived to bring him face to face\nwith her husband, the Falcon King, who warned him strongly against\nBashtchelik, and gave him a feather from his wing in case of need.\n\nAfter a long search and many adventures, the Prince at last found his\nwife, standing at the mouth of a large cave. She was much surprised to\nsee him, and ran forward to embrace him. He then told her all he had\ndone since their parting, and she clung to him in great joy.\n\n'Now, dear wife,' he said at last; 'now that I have found you, we will\ngo together to your father's palace.'\n\n'But Bashtchelik!' she exclaimed.\n\n'Bashtchelik is not your husband,' he replied; 'I am your husband.'\n\n'Yes, yes; but if we flee, beloved, Bashtchelik will surely follow us.\nHis rage would be terrible, and I should lose you for ever, and find a\nfrightful punishment.'\n\n'Nay, nay; I am your husband, and I will protect you; come!' Then he\nadded to himself, 'She does not know I have three lives now, and I doubt\nwhether Bashtchelik could kill me three times.'\n\nSo they fled together. But, some hours later, Bashtchelik returned from\nhunting and found the Princess had gone. From some footprints outside\nthe cave he gleaned that she had not gone alone, and instantly guessed\nthat her husband had carried her off. With a cry of rage he sprang into\nthe air, and began to fly round the cave at terrific speed, and in\never-widening circles.\n\nThe sun was low down on the Western horizon when the Prince, riding hard\nwith his wife on the saddle-bow, heard a whirring sound in the sky and\nlooked up.\n\n'Hasten!' cried the Princess in alarm; 'it is Bashtchelik. If we can\nreach the shelter of yonder forest he may not see us.'\n\nBut hardly had she spoken when an angry cry from afar fell on their\nears. Bashtchelik had seen them--seen her long, yellow hair floating on\nthe breeze and gleaming like gold in the rays of the setting sun. He\nswerved and swooped downwards, and, madly as they rode for the edge of\nthe forest, he was upon them by the time they reached the outskirts.\n\nAlighting on the ground, he tore the Princess from the Prince's arms,\nand cried out in sorrowful anger, 'O Prince, I gave you three lives out\nof gratitude to you, but, if you attempt to steal your wife again, I\nwill kill you.' And with this he mounted in the air with the Princess,\nand soon disappeared in the distance, leaving the Prince lost in wonder\nat the suddenness of it all.\n\nNevertheless he was not to be beaten. He returned to the cave under\ncover of night, and, having concealed his steed, crept forward and hid\nhimself near the cave, to wait until Bashtchelik should go forth to the\nhunt.\n\nAnd he was not disappointed. Soon after the sun rose, Bashtchelik came\nout from the cave, bearing his bow and arrows, and went in search of\nprey. Then, when he was out of sight, the Prince dashed into the cave,\ntook his wife and rode away with her. But again ere sunset they heard\nthe whir of wings; and again Bashtchelik snatched the Princess from the\nPrince's arms. And this time he placed an arrow on his bowstring and\ndrew it to the full.\n\n[Illustration: THE STORY OF BASHTCHELIK\n\nThe Palace of the Dragon King.\n\n_See Page 109_]\n\n'O Prince,' he said, 'I give you your choice: will you die by arrow or\nsabre?'\n\n'By sabre,' said the Prince, feeling for his own.\n\n'Nay, nay!' returned Bashtchelik, relenting. 'Because I gave you three\nlives, I pardon you a second time; but, if you attempt to steal your\nwife again, I shall slay you without a thought.'\n\nBut the Prince, as he watched Bashtchelik fly away with his wife, was\nnot daunted. 'I wish he would stay to fight, said he; 'but maybe he will\nnext time, for I shall certainly take her again.'\n\nAnd he did. And again they were overtaken. On this occasion it was\nnowise different, save that when Bashtchelik forgave the Prince it was\nin angry and threatening tones, before bearing the Princess away.\n\nHaving failed three times, the Prince rode sadly homewards. But he had\nnot gone far when he bethought him of the three feathers given him by\nhis brothers-in-law, and of their promises of help. He reined in his\nsteed, and turned and galloped back. He would beard Bashtchelik in his\ncave, and then give battle, with three armies at his call, if,\nperchance, this powerful foe should seem to prevail.\n\nWhen he reached the cave it was an hour after sunrise. He leapt from his\nsteed and entered without knocking. There was a fire burning within, and\nhis wife sat by it with her head on her hand, thinking. She sprang up at\nthe sound of his footstep.\n\n'You!' she cried. 'Ah! my beloved, you are in unseemly haste to quit\nthis life, since you come for me a fourth time.'\n\n'Listen to me,' he said; 'for you are my wife, and none shall keep you\nfrom me.' Then he showed her the three feathers, and explained to her\nthat they were pledges of help in time of need. He placed them in her\nhand, and gave her also the burning-glass he used for kindling a fire,\nand said: 'Do not burn them until you see the combat is going against\nme. He will certainly follow us, but, this time, I think he will fight.'\n\nThe Princess seemed to agree to his wish, and, soon afterwards, they set\nout and rode rapidly away.\n\nIt was high noon when they heard the whir of wings and knew they were\nfollowed. Bashtchelik approached at a great speed, and they saw his\nsabre flashing in the sun. The Prince drew rein and dismounted; then,\ndrawing his weapon, he advanced to meet his foe. But, ere their sabres\nclashed, the Princess, fearful for her husband's life, had taken the\nburning-glass and pinned the sun's rays to the feathers. A tiny curl of\nblue smoke arose, and then they burst into flame.\n\nInstantly--ere yet the heart could beat twice--there was a shrill chord\nof three sounds, and as many colours shimmered like lightning in the\nair. Then as the feathers blazed, came dragon hosts upon the plain;\nflaming eagles flocked in; and the Falcon King with his myriads swooped\ndown. Bashtchelik was surrounded on three sides, but he dealt a mighty\nstroke at the Prince's heart; and then, seeming invincible, fought his\nway through with much slaughter and gained the side of the Princess.\nBefore she knew it she was caught up, and Bashtchelik was bearing her on\nrapid wings away.\n\nBut the Prince? Among the thick of the slain the three kings--his\nbrothers-in-law--found him dead! But they took thought together as to\nhow they might recall him to life, and at last decided to send for some\nwater from the Jordan. They summoned three of the swiftest dragons and\nasked how long it would take to fetch it. 'Half an hour!' said the\nfirst. 'Ten minutes!' said the second; but the third said at once, 'Nine\nseconds!'\n\nSo they dispatched him; and, like a flash, he winged his fiery flight,\nreturning in nine seconds with the water from the Jordan. With this they\nbathed the Prince's wounds, and they healed up at once; and lo, he rose\nup alive and well, but with only two lives left to him.\n\n'Venture not again,' was the counsel of the three kings. 'Go not forth\nagainst Bashtchelik, for he is perfect steel, the mightiest of all; and\nnone can conquer him: he has all Force behind him.'\n\nBut the Prince would not accept their words of warning. 'Force is not\nthe strongest thing,' he said. 'Force is hard as steel, yet it can be\novercome by the will of Love, which is so soft that it melts at a touch.\nIn that I go forth again to conquer Bashtchelik, and regain my wife.'\n\nThey could not restrain him, but, ere he went, they counselled him\nagain: 'Since you are willing to risk all, you must go; but think not\nthat by mighty blows you can conquer Bashtchelik. Get speech with your\nwife, and bid her learn from him, by a woman's wit, wherein the secret\nof his strength lies. Then come and tell us; and, with that knowledge,\nwe can help you to slay him.'\n\nThe Prince agreed, and parted from them. Making his way very cautiously\nto the cave, he waited till Bashtchelik had gone forth to the hunt, and\nthen entered and found his wife, and bade her glean from Bashtchelik the\nsecret of his strength. Then he returned to his place of concealment.\n\nThat evening, when Bashtchelik returned to the cave, the Princess\npraised his great strength and flattered him mightily upon it.\n\n'Tell me, I pray thee,' she said at last, 'wherein thy great strength\nlieth, and wherewith thou mightest be bound; for'--with a laugh--'I\nwould fain bind thee with my hair.'\n\nBashtchelik laughed, well pleased at her words. 'Wouldst thou know it?'\nsaid he. 'My strength is in my sword; were that taken from me I should\nthen be weak, and be as another man.'\n\nThe Princess then bowed down before his sword and did homage to it, and\nsang a great song of joy that all power on earth was in the sword. But,\non hearing this, Bashtchelik laughed, and laughed again, saying,\n'Foolish one! my real strength lies no more in my sword than in its\nscabbard.'\n\n'Then,' said she, 'thou hast mocked me. Tell me, I pray thee, wherein\nthy strength lieth.'\n\n'In my bow and arrows,' replied he. And at once the Princess bowed down\nand did homage to his bow and arrows, singing their praise: how swift\ntheir flight through the air, how true their aim, how deadly their\npiercing points.\n\nBut Bashtchelik laughed again, and again, and again.\n\n'Foolish one!' said he. 'My real strength lies not in my bow, nor in my\narrows. But, tell me, why do you seek to know the secret of my\nstrength?'\n\n'Because I am a woman; and was there ever a woman who loved a man and\ndid not want to know his secret?'\n\n'Ay--to know it, and to impart it to others.'\n\n'Nay, nay; to know it is enough. Tell me, I pray thee, and tell me\ntruly, wherein the secret of thy great strength lieth.'\n\nAt this he was much distressed, and, thinking that the Princess believed\nher husband dead, he hoped at last to win her love; and so he told her.\n\n'Listen to me,' said he. 'Far away in a high tableland in the interior\nof this country there is a mountain reaching up to the sky, and rooted\nfar down into the earth. In a spot of that mountain--in a den where a\nserpent lies asleep--there is a fox, and in its heart there hides a\nbird. That bird is the storehouse of my strength. One flutter of its\nwings would scatter a whole army; one beat of its heart would shake the\nwhole world--if the fox so willed it. But the will of the fox is over\nmine, and what strength I have comes from the bird through the will of\nthe fox. And that fox is the hardest thing in the world to catch: it can\ntake any shape it likes. So, now, you know all.'\n\n'You have told me truly?'\n\n'I do not laugh: I have told you truly.'\n\nThen the Princess dallied with him, giving ear to his tales of terror\nand triumph. But, when he had supped and fallen asleep, she stole out\nand told the Prince all about it. And he, bidding his wife farewell,\nrode off in haste to tell his brothers-in-law. When they heard his news\nthey called up their forces--the dragons, the eagles, the falcons--and\nproceeded forthwith against the mountain on the high tableland.\n\nBy certain signs the Prince discovered the den of the sleeping serpent,\nand there they surprised the fox, who, seeing the vast array on the\nsides of the mountain and on the plain, quickly took refuge in flight.\nBut a host of eagles and falcons tore after him and overtook him near a\ngreat lake. Here he changed himself into a duck with six wings, and\ndived and disappeared. Presently, far away on the lake, they saw him\nreappear on the surface, and rise from the water, and wing his way up\ninto the clouds. Immediately the dragons gave chase, and the eagles and\nfalcons strove to encircle the swift-winged bird. Finally, seeing no way\nof escape, the duck swooped to earth, and changed again into a fox. Then\nthe pursuers pounced and caught him.\n\nThe three kings then consulted together and decided to cut open the fox\nand take its heart out. This was soon done; then they built a great fire\nand threw the heart into it. And, as it burned, they saw a bird fly from\nit through the flames and fall scorched at their feet. Now, as they\ngazed upon it, it changed rapidly, growing in size and altering in\nshape, until at last there lay before them the body of Bashtchelik, his\nwings all burnt and his body charred.\n\nSo this monster perished, and the Prince regained his long-lost bride.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FRIAR AND THE BOY\n\nAN ENGLISH FAIRY TALE\n\n\n'You good-for-nothing boy, you! It's always meal-times when you come\nhome: that's all you care about here. Look at the knees of your\ntrousers; why, playing marbles in the street with all the other filthy\nlittle brats is about all you're fit for. How d'you think I'm going to\nspend all my time patching up your holes and tatters? Drat you! Get out\nof it and wipe your boots before you come into a clean kitchen. I've\nbeen all the afternoon tidying up for the good Friar's visit this\nevening, and now you----'\n\n'Hang the good Friar!' said Jack under his breath, for he was sick and\ntired of his stepmother's sour tongue, and more than sick and tired of\nthe good Friar, who, he knew, was only 'good' when he was not feeling\nwell. Taking a fairy-tale book from the shelf he went and sat in the\ninglenook, thus sheltering himself from a further storm of abuse from\nhis stepmother.\n\nThe fact of the matter was, that thrice upon a time his father had\nmarried. Jack, a merry-hearted boy, and lovable for all his mischief,\nwas his son by his first wife. The other two had no children, and the\nstepmother now living seemed to resent the fact of Jack's existence. His\nfather loved him dearly, but, when the father was away, Jack had a sore\ntime with his sour-tempered stepmother. No wonder he only came home to\nmeals; no wonder he preferred his fairy-tale book to her venomous\ntongue.\n\nWhen supper-time came, Jack was always summoned to his food well in time\nfor it to be cleared away before his father came in; and the reason for\nthis was that his father should not see how he was stinted.\n\nBut one day the father got to know about these things, and taxed his\nwife on her treatment of the boy.\n\n'Look here, sir,' said she, 'I wish to goodness you would take your\nwretched son away and put him in a school for saints, since you think he\nis so good. As for me, he plagues my life out, and, if you keep him here\nwith his ne'er-do-well ways, you'll come home some evening to find me\ngone.'\n\nInstead of beating his wife for these words--as some men do when their\nwives so beseech them--the goodman put his hand on her shoulder and\nsaid, 'Nay, nay, my dear; the boy is only a boy; let him stay with us\nanother year until he can fend for himself. Now, I'll tell you what: let\nthe man who looks after the sheep come in here and do the work about the\nhouse, and Jack will take his place in the field. The man can have\nJack's bed, and Jack will be delighted to sleep in the outhouse. What\nsay you?'\n\nThe wife could not object to this, for, at least, the man would be more\nuseful and less troublesome about the house than Jack could ever be. So\nshe agreed to her husband's proposal.\n\nThe next day the plan was put into operation.\n\nThe man was set to work about the house, and Jack was sent out into the\nfields to mind the sheep. As he went he sang merrily, for he loved the\ngreen fields and the animals. He doubted the dinner his stepmother had\nput up for him, wrapped in a kitchen clout; yet he sang merrily as he\nwent in search of the sheep:\n\n    _'Green gravel! Green gravel!\n      Thy grass is so green.\n    'Tis the fairies' green gravel\n      With the daisies between.'_\n\nThen, when he had found them:\n\n    _'Snowy sheepie-woolsides,\n      Save your wool for me;\n    Then in snowy yuletides\n      Snug and warm I'll be.'_\n\nThen, later, when he began to get hungry, it was:\n\n    _'Sheepie, wander, wander\n      All the fields about;\n    Grass is growing under,\n      Clover budding out.\n    My mother does not squander\n      Cakes on me, I doubt;\n    What is here, I wonder,\n      In this kitchen clout?'_\n\nAnd, sitting down on a mossy bank, he opened the clout in which his\nstepmother had wrapped his dinner. Lo and behold, it was dry bread, with\na very thick layer of dripping scraped off from it back into the pot. He\nate very little, thinking that surely his father would give him\nsomething nicer to eat when he got home.\n\nIn the afternoon he sat on the hillside watching the sheep and singing\nmerrily, when he saw an aged man with a staff making his way towards\nhim.\n\n'God bless you, son,' said the aged one.\n\n'Good-morrow, father,' replied the boy. 'You are weary. Rest a while on\nthis mossy bank.'\n\n'Ay, I will,' said the old man, sitting down beside the boy. 'You speak\ntruly: I am weary, and hungry, and thirsty too. Have you any food? And\nwould your young legs take you to the stream to bring me back a draught\nof water?'\n\n'I have food, such as it is,' replied Jack readily; and he offered him\nthe dry bread and scrape that his stepmother had given him. 'As for\nwater, I have a pannikin, and I'll soon fill it at the stream.' And with\nthat he hurried off to fetch the water.\n\nWhen he returned, and the old man had eaten and drank, he thanked the\nboy. 'God love you, child,' he said; 'you have been kind to me. And now,\nin return, I am minded to grant you three wishes of your heart. Think\nwell, and then name them; and it shall be as I say.'\n\nJack thought and thought; but all he could decide on to begin with was a\nbow and arrow. So he asked for that.\n\n'Certainly!' said the old man; and, rising, he went behind the bank, and\npresently returned with the bow and arrow, which he gave to the boy.\n\n'This will last you all your life,' he said; 'and it will never break.\nAll you have to do is to draw it with the arrow on the string, and\nwhatever you aim at will fall, pierced by the arrow.'\n\nJack was delighted, and, in order to test it, he fixed an arrow and let\nit fly at a hawk passing overhead. The arrow sped and pierced the body\nof the hawk, which came down plump at their feet.\n\nAt this Jack considered his second wish, for he said to himself, 'An old\nman who can give me a bow and arrow that can never miss, can give me\nalmost anything.' Then he made up his mind and asked for a pipe on which\nto play tunes.\n\n'I have always wanted a pipe,' he said; 'I would like one so much, no\nmatter how small it is.'\n\nThen the old man got up and went behind the bank, and came back\npresently with a beautiful pipe, which he gave to the boy.\n\n'It is a strange pipe,' he said. 'When you play upon it any one besides\nyourself who hears the music must dance, and keep on dancing till the\nmusic stops.'\n\nJack thought this was fine, and would have played a tune there and then,\nbut he looked at the aged man and saw that it would hurt him to dance;\nso he waited: there was always the 'good Friar' to pipe to.\n\n'Now, child,' said the old man at last, 'what is your third and last\nwish?'\n\nJack pondered a long time, and at last he chuckled and clapped his hands\nwith glee. When the old man asked him what tickled him so, he could not\nreply at once, as he was so busy enjoying some joke beforehand. At last,\nwhen he was able to speak, he said, 'Father, it has just crossed my mind\nthat my stepmother is always looking at me sourly and always scolding\nme. I wish that when she does this she will laugh, and go on laughing\ntill I give her the word to stop. Can you grant that wish, father?'\n\n'I can,' said the old man; 'and it will be so. When she looks at you\nsourly or speaks to you crossly, she will laugh until she falls to the\nground, and then go on laughing until you tell her to stop.'\n\nWhen Jack had thanked him, the old man said good-bye and tottered away,\nleaning heavily on his staff. Meanwhile Jack sat and nursed his three\nwishes, feeling as gay-hearted about his good luck as a lambkin with\nthree tails.\n\nWhen the sun set at last and his day's work was done, he rose and\ntrudged homewards in great glee. As he went he played his pipe, and all\nthe sheep and cattle and horses and dogs danced, till he left off for\nlaughing at the sight of them kicking up their heels. Even the birds and\nthe bees waltzed in the air, and, as he crossed a bridge, he saw the\nlittle fishes pirouetting in the stream below.\n\nAs soon as he reached home he put the pipe away, and, going into the\nhouse, found his father at supper.\n\n'Father,' said he, 'I am terribly hungry after looking to the sheep all\nday; and, besides, my dinner was very dry.'\n\n'Here you are, my son,' replied his father; and, cutting a wing from the\nroast capon on the table before him, he set it on a plate and pushed it\nover to the boy.\n\nAt this the stepmother, grudging to see such a nice portion given to the\nboy, turned upon him with a look that would have made a cow give sour\nmilk. Then, on the instant, she burst out laughing. Her husband stared\nat her in amazement, but still she laughed, her sides shaking with her\nshrill peals; and louder and louder she laughed, until the rafters shook\nand she fell to the ground, still laughing as if she would die of it.\n\nAt last Jack, with his capon's wing in both hands before him, stopped\neating to cry, 'Enough, I say!' And immediately the stepmother ceased\nher laughter and struggled to her feet, looking more dead than alive.\n\nNow, the next day, when Jack was minding the sheep, the good Friar\ncalled at the house, and the stepmother told him what a naughty boy Jack\nwas, and how he had made her laugh till she had nearly died, and then\nmocked her.\n\n'Go you, now,' she said; 'go and find him in the fields and give him a\nsound beating for my sake. It will do him good--and me too.'\n\nSo the Friar went out into the fields and at last found the boy, with\nhis bow and arrow in his hands.\n\n'Young man,' said the Friar, 'tell me at once what you have done to your\nstepmother that she is so angered with you. Tell me at once, I say, or I\nwill give you a sound beating.'\n\n'What's the matter with you?' replied Jack. 'If my stepmother wants me\nbeaten, let her do it herself. See that bird?' He pointed to a very\nplump bird flying overhead. 'If you fetch it when it drops, you can have\nit.'\n\nWith this he let fly an arrow and pierced the bird, which fell to earth\na little way off in a bramble patch. As the Friar darted forward to get\nit--for it was indeed a plump bird--Jack drew forth his pipe and began\nto play.\n\nIt is said that he who hops among thorns is either chasing a snake or\nbeing chased by one; and it looked as if either the one or the other was\nthe Friar's case, for he hopped high in the bramble bushes and danced as\nif he had gone mad in both heels at once.\n\nTo see the good Friar dancing willy-nilly among the bramble bushes,\nkicking up his heels to the tune of the pipe, higher still and\nhigher--oh, it was a sight for Jack's eyes, for he loved the Friar to\ndistraction in less ways than one. So long as Jack piped, the Friar\ndanced. His dress was torn to shreds, but that seemed a small matter.\nThe thorns did admirable work, but the Friar did not care. On with the\ndance! _Tara-tara-tara-ra-ra_--the Friar seemed to be enjoying himself,\nthough more for Jack's benefit than his own. Faster and faster shrilled\nthe pipe, and faster danced the Friar, until at last he fell down among\nthe brambles, a sorry spectacle, still kicking his feet in the air to\nthe merry rhythm. Then Jack ceased piping, but only to laugh; for he\nhad small pity for the Friar.\n\n'Friend Jack!' cried the Friar, gathering himself up, 'forbear, I pray\nyou. I am nigh to death. Permit me to depart and I will be your friend\nfor ever.'\n\n'Get up and go, then,' cried Jack, 'before I begin to play again.'\n\nThe good Friar needed no further permission. What remnant of a robe was\nleft him he gathered up, and fled to his own home. There he clothed\nhimself decently and made all haste to Jack's parents.\n\nWhen they saw his woebegone countenance they questioned him closely.\n\n'I have been with your son,' he replied. 'Grammercy! By these scratches\non my face, and by others you cannot see, he is in league with the Evil\nOne, or I am no holy Friar. He played a tune on his pipe and I\ndanced--danced!--think of it! And all in the bramble bushes! Your son is\nplainly lost; I hesitate to think what it will cost you to save his soul\nfrom the devil's clutch.'\n\n'Here is a fine thing,' exclaimed the wife, turning to her husband.\n'This your son has nearly killed the holy Father!'\n\n'Benedicite!' said the good man fervently, and the Friar wondered for a\nmoment what he meant exactly.\n\nWhen Jack returned home his father at once asked him what he had been\ndoing. He replied that he had been having a merry time with the good\nFriar, who was so fond of music that he could dance to it\nanywhere--among bramble bushes for preference. These saints, of\ncourse----\n\n'But what music is this you play?' broke in his father, who was growing\nvastly interested. 'I should like to hear it.'\n\n'Heaven forfend!' cried the Friar, getting uneasy.\n\n'Yes, yes; I should like to hear it,' persisted his father.\n\n'Then, if that is so, and you must hear his accursed tune, I beg that\nyou will bind me to the door-post so that I cannot move. I have had more\nthan enough of it.'\n\nThey took him at his word and bound him securely to the door-post; so\nthat he was, so to speak, out of the dance when Jack took his pipe and\nbegan to play.\n\nThen had you seen a merry spectacle! At the first notes the good man and\nhis wife began to tread a sprightly measure, while the Friar, bound fast\nto the post, squirmed and wriggled, showing plainly that he would foot\nit if he could, and dispense with the brambles for once.\n\nAs the piping went on, the merry measure became a tarantelle. The staid\nold folks threw off their age, and kicked their heels high in the air.\nFaster and faster went the music; wilder and wilder grew the dance. The\nFriar burst his bonds and joined in. Nothing was safe: chairs were\nhustled into the fire; the table was pushed this way and that, and the\nlighted lamp upon it was rocking.\n\nSeeing the fury of the thing, Jack got up and led the way out into the\nstreet, still piping. They followed; the neighbours flocked out and\njoined in the dance; even those who had gone to bed rushed down, and all\nfollowed at Jack's heels down the village street, dancing madly to his\nwild piping. People jostled and fell and went on dancing on all fours,\nbut the Friar kept his feet, if not his head, and whirled many a maid\ninto the thick of it.\n\nAt length, when they had reached the village green, and the scene had\nbecome one of indescribable confusion and abandon, Jack's father drew\nnear him and said, as he whirled by: 'Jack! if you have any\nconsideration for your poor old father, for heaven's sake, stop!'\n\nNow the boy loved his father; so, on hearing these words, he ceased his\npiping. Suddenly all came to a standstill. There was a rapid melting\naway as if people had awakened from a dream in which they had been\nmaking themselves ridiculous. And, in the midst of this, came forward\nthe Friar with Jack's stepmother in close attendance.\n\n'That cursed boy!' cried he, shaking his fist at Jack. 'See here, my\nfine fellow, you cannot do this kind of thing with impunity. I hereby\nsummon you before the Judge next Friday, and see to it that you appear\nin person to answer the charges I shall bring against you.'\n\nAt this the boy raised his pipe again to his lips; but, before he could\nblow a single note, they had all taken to their heels in dismay, leaving\nhim standing there alone in the empty square.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIt was Friday, and the Judge, be-wigged and severe, sat on the bench,\nwith all the appearance of a great case before him. The Friar was there\nas prosecutor; the King's Proctor was watching the case--in case; the\nPublic Persuader was there with his suave and well-paid manner,\nadmonishing all sides; Jack's parents and all his relations and friends\nwere there, wondering greatly whether Jack, who stood in the dock, would\nlive to tell the tale of what death was meted out to him.\n\n'M'lud!' said the Friar when there was silence in court; 'I have brought\nbefore you a wicked boy who, by associating with the Evil One, has\ncorrupted the manners of this community, and brought sorrow and trouble\nto all. Though young he is none the less a wizard, having infernal\nskill.'\n\n'Ay, that he is,' put in the stepmother. 'He is in league--in\nleague----' But she got no further, for, in a trice, she was laughing as\nnone had ever been known to laugh.\n\nThe Judge was scandalised.\n\n'Woman!' he said. 'This Court itself has been known to laugh, but this\nbehaviour on your part is unseemly.'\n\n'Stop it!' said Jack from the dock, and he spoke short and sharp.\n\nShe ceased immediately, and then the Judge requested her to tell her\ntale; but she was so exhausted that the Friar had to tell it for her.\n\n'M'lud,' he said, 'it is simply this: the prisoner here has a pipe, and,\nwhen he plays upon it, all who hear must dance themselves to death,\nwhether they like it or not.'\n\n'Ah!' said the Judge, 'I should like to hear this Dance of Death. You\nhave heard it, good father, and you still live. Maybe, when I have heard\nit, I shall be charmed, like the serpent, and come out to be killed at\nonce. Let him play his music.'\n\nAnd, with this remark, the Judge sat back, while Jack took up his pipe\nto play.\n\n'Stop! stop!' cried the Friar in dismay. But Jack heeded not. At the nod\nof the Judge he started up a merry tune, and immediately the whole Court\nbegan to imagine itself a ballroom. Set to partners--cross--ladies'\nchain--chasse! It was a regular whirl as the boy piped faster and\nfaster. The Judge himself leapt down from the bench and joined in,\nholding up his robes and footing it merrily. But, when he bruised his\nshins severely against the clerk's desk, he yelled for the boy to cease\npiping.\n\n'Yes, I will,' cried Jack, and as he paused with his pipe raised to his\nlips they all waited on his words: 'I will, if they will all promise to\ntreat me properly from this time forward.'\n\n'I think,' said the Judge, 'if you will put your pipe away, they will\nconsent to an amicable arrangement.'\n\nThen he climbed back to the bench and sat himself down, and put on his\nconsidering cap to pass sentence.\n\nThere was silence in court for some minutes. Then came in solemn tones:\n\n'Judgment for the defendant--with costs!'\n\nAnd so, all parties being satisfied, the Court adjourned, and every one\nwent home to supper quite happy.\n\n[Illustration: THE FRIAR AND THE BOY\n\nThe Friar, bound fast to the post, squirmed and wriggled, showing\nplainly that he would foot it if he could.\n\n_See page 126_]\n\n\n\n\nTHE GREEN SERPENT\n\nA FRENCH FAIRY TALE\n\n\nThere was once upon a time a very great Queen who gave birth to little\ntwin girls. She immediately sent out invitations to twelve fairies in\nthe neighbouring countries to come to the feast according to the custom\nof the country--a custom that was never by any means overlooked, because\nit was such a great advantage to have the fairies as guests.\n\nWhen the twelve fairies were all assembled in the great hall where the\nfeast was to be held, they took their seats at the table--a very big\ntable laden with such good things to eat, and so rich, that it was past\nall comprehension. No sooner had all the guests seated themselves, than\nwho should enter but the wicked fairy Magotine!\n\nNow the Queen, when she saw her, felt that some disaster would follow\nbecause she had omitted to send this fairy an invitation; but she hid\nthe thought deep in her mind, and off she went and found a beautiful\nsoft seat all embroidered in gold and inlaid with sapphires; then all\nthe other fairies moved up and made room for Magotine to seat herself,\nsaying at the same time, 'Hurry up, sister, and make your wish for the\nlittle Princesses, and then come and sit down.'\n\nBut, before Magotine came to table, she said rudely that she was quite\nbig enough to eat standing. There she made a great mistake, because the\ntable was very high and Magotine was very small, and, in reaching up,\nshe fell. This misfortune only increased her bad temper.\n\n'Madam,' said the Queen, 'I beg you to be seated at table.'\n\n'If you had so much wished to see me here,' replied the fairy, 'you\nwould have sent me an invitation the same as the others. You have only\ninvited to your court the most beautiful, well-dressed and\ngood-tempered fairies, like my sisters here. With them I have no fault\nto find; I, however, have one advantage over them, as you will see!'\n\nThen all the fairies begged her to seat herself with them, and she did\nso. In front of each fairy was placed a beautiful bouquet made of all\nkinds of precious stones. Each took the bouquet immediately in front of\nher, and there remained none at all for Magotine; and she growled\nfuriously between her teeth.\n\nThe Queen, quickly noticing the awful error, ran to her cabinet and came\nback with a large cup all perfumed and studded outside with rubies, and\ninside full of diamonds that gave forth a thousand different colours.\nGoing up to Magotine, she begged her to receive the present. But\nMagotine only shook her head and replied: 'Keep your jewels, madam, I do\nnot want them. I came simply to see if you had thought of me, and I find\nthat you have forgotten me altogether.' And with this she gave a tap\nwith her wand on the table and at once all the good things were turned\ninto serpents, which wriggled about and hissed viciously. The other\nfairies, seeing this, were filled with horror; they threw down their\nserviettes and quitted the table.\n\nWhile they were leaving the table the wicked little fairy Magotine, who\nhad come to disturb the peace, made her way to the room where the little\nPrincesses were asleep in a golden cot covered with a canopy studded\nwith diamonds, the most beautiful ever seen in the world. The other\nfairies followed her to watch. Magotine stopped beside the cot, and,\ntaking out her wand quickly, she touched one of the little Princesses,\nsaying at the same time: 'I wish that you become the most ugly person\nthat it would be possible to find.' Then she turned to the other little\nPrincess; but, before she could do anything further, the other fairies\ninterfered, and taking a great pan full of vitriol, threw it over the\nwicked Magotine. But not a drop touched her, for, before it splashed\nupon the floor, she had disappeared before their very eyes.\n\nThe Queen then made her way to the cot and took out the little Princess\nthat Magotine had wished to be so ugly; and the Queen cried with sorrow\nbecause, every minute as she looked at it, the child was becoming uglier\nand uglier, until at last any one could see she was the ugliest baby in\nthe world.\n\nNow the other good fairies consulted amongst themselves how they could\nlighten this great sorrow, so they turned to the Queen and said: 'Madam,\nit is not possible to undo the evil that the fairy Magotine has put upon\nyour child, but we will wish for her something that will help to balance\nthat evil.' And then they told the Queen that one day her daughter would\nbe extremely happy. With this the fairies took their departure, but not\nbefore the Queen had given them all some beautiful presents; for this\ncustom goes on amongst all the peoples of the earth, and will continue\nwhen other customs are forgotten.\n\nThe Queen called her ugly daughter Laideronnette, and the beautiful\ndaughter Bellote; and these names suited them perfectly, because\nLaideronnette was frightfully ugly, and her sister was equally charming\nand beautiful.\n\nWhen Laideronnette was twelve years old, she went and threw herself at\nthe feet of the King and Queen, and begged them to allow her to go and\nshut herself up in a castle far away near the Light of Dawn, and to let\nher take the necessary servants and food to live there. She reminded\nthem that they still had Bellote, and that she was enough to console\nthem.\n\nAfter a long while they agreed, and Laideronnette went away to her\ncastle near the Light of Dawn. On one side of the castle the sea came\nright up to the window, and on another there was a great canal; from\nstill another view was a vast forest as far as the eye could see, and\nbeyond again a great desert.\n\nThe little Princess played musical instruments beautifully, and also had\na sweet voice just like a bird, and sang divinely; and so, with these\ndelights, she lived for two whole years in perfect solitude. Then, at\nthe end of the two years, she began to feel homesick and wished to see\nher father and mother, the King and Queen; so she started on the\njourney home at once, and arrived just as her sister the Princess\nBellote was going to be married.\n\nNow as soon as they saw Laideronnette, they did not offer to kiss her or\nsay they were pleased to see her; and they told her she was not to come\nto the marriage feast, nor to the ball afterwards. Poor little\nLaideronnette said she had not come to dance and be merry; neither had\nshe come to the marriage feast; she had come because she felt homesick\nand wanted to see her father and mother. However, she would go away back\nto her castle near the Light of Dawn, for there the desert, the trees,\nand the fountains never reproached her with her ugliness when she came\nnear them.\n\nThe King and Queen were sorry that they had been so unkind, and asked\nLaideronnette to remain two or three days; but Laideronnette was so\nupset that she refused. Then her sister Bellote gave her some silk, and\nBellote's betrothed gave her some ribbons. Now, if Laideronnette had\nbeen like some people she would have thrown the silk and the ribbons at\nthe Princess and her future husband. But Laideronnette was not like\nthat, and she only felt a great sorrow in her little heart, and turned\naway and took her faithful nurse with her; and all the way home towards\nthe Light of Dawn, Laideronnette never spoke a single word.\n\nOne day, when Laideronnette was walking in a very shaded valley in the\nforest, she saw on a tree a big green serpent, who lifted his head and\nsaid to her, 'Laideronnette, you are not the only unhappy person; look\nat my horrible form, and I was born more beautiful than you.' The\nPrincess was so terrified to hear a serpent talk that she fled away and\nremained in her room for days, in case she should see or meet the green\nserpent again.\n\nEventually Laideronnette got tired of being shut up in her room all day\nalone, so one evening she came down and went to the edge of the sea,\nbewailing all the time her awful loneliness and her sad destiny, when\nsuddenly she saw coming towards her over the waves a little barque of a\nthousand different colours and designs on its sides. The sail was\nbeautifully embroidered in gold, and the Princess became very curious\nto see all the beauties that the barque must contain inside.\n\nShe made her way aboard. Inside she found it lined with lovely velvet,\nthe seats of pure gold and the walls studded with diamonds; then, all of\na sudden, the barque turned and went out to sea. The Princess ran up and\ncaught hold of the oars, thinking to get back to her castle; but it was\nno use: she could do nothing at all. On and on went the barque and the\npoor little Princess wept bitterly at this new sorrow that had come to\nher.\n\n'Magotine is doing me a bad turn again,' she thought, so she abandoned\nherself to her fate, hoping that she would die. 'Just after I was\nlooking forward to a little pleasure in seeing my parents yesterday,\ncomes one catastrophe on another; and now my sister is going to be\nmarried to a great Prince. What have I done that I should have to live\nalone in a desert spot because of my ugliness? Alas! for my company I\nhave only a serpent--who speaks!'\n\nThese reflections brought tears from the Princess, and she gazed on\nevery side to see which way death was coming for her. While looking and\ngazing she saw, approaching on the waves, a serpent, flashing green in\nthe sunlight. He came up to the side of the barque and said: 'If you are\ngood enough to receive help from a poor Green Serpent, tell me, for I am\nin a position to save your life.'\n\n'Death is nothing to me compared to the sight of you,' cried the\nPrincess; 'and, if you really want to do me a favour, never show\nyourself before my eyes again.'\n\nThe Green Serpent gave a big sigh (for that is the way of serpents in\nlove), and, without replying at all, he dived to the bottom of the sea.\n\n'What a horrible monster!' said the Princess to herself. 'His body is of\na thousand green colours, and he has eyes like fire. I would rather die\nthan that _he_ should save my life. What love can he have for me, and by\nwhat right does he speak like a human being?'\n\nSuddenly a voice replied to her thoughts, and it said, 'Listen,\nLaideronnette, it is not my fault that I am a Green Serpent; and it will\nnot be for ever; but, I assure you, I am less ugly in my special way\nthan you are in yours. All the same, it is not my wish to pain you; I\nwould comfort you if you would only let me!'\n\nThe voice surprised the Princess very much, so sweet was it that she\ncould not hold back her tears. 'I am not crying because I am afraid to\ndie,' she answered, 'but I am hurt enough to weep over my ugliness. I\nhave nothing to live for, why should I cry for fear of dying?'\n\nWhile she was thus moralising, the little barque that floated with the\nwind ran into a rock and broke up into pieces, and, when all else had\nsunk, there remained of the wreck only two little pieces of wood. The\npoor Princess caught hold of these two little pieces and kept herself\nafloat; then, happily, her feet touched a rock and she scrambled up on\nto it.\n\nAlas! what was that coming towards her now but the Green Serpent! As if\nhe knew that she was afraid, he moved away a little, and said: 'You\nwould be less afraid of me, Laideronnette, if you knew what advantages\ncan be had through me; it is one of the punishments of my destiny,\nhowever, that I should frighten every one in the world.'\n\nAnd with this he threw himself back into the sea, and Laideronnette\nremained alone on the rock in the middle of the ocean. On whichever side\nshe looked she saw nothing but what would cause her despair; and\ndarkness began to fall, and she had no food to eat, and Laideronnette\ndid not know where to sleep.\n\n'I thought,' said she sadly, 'that I should end my days at the bottom of\nthe sea; but without a doubt this is to be the end; what sea-monster\nwill come to eat me up?'\n\nShe crept higher and higher up the rock, and looked out over the sea.\nDarkness was falling fast, so she took off her dress and covered her\nhead and face in it, so that she could not see the awful things that\nwould pass in the night.\n\nAfter a long time she fell asleep, and dreamt that she heard the most\nmelodious music, and she tried to persuade herself that she was awake,\nbut in a second she heard a voice singing, as if to her alone:--\n\n    _'Suffer the love that wounds you:\n      It is a tender fire.\n    The love that follows and surrounds you\n      To your love would aspire.\n    Banish fear, forgo all grieving:\n    Love hath joys past all believing.\n          Suffer the love that wounds you:\n            It is a tender fire.'_\n\nAt the end of this song she woke up at once. 'What happiness or what\nmisfortune threatens me?' said she. She opened her eyes very carefully,\nfor she was full of fear, expecting to find herself surrounded by\nmonsters from the sea; but, imagine her surprise to find herself in a\nchamber all glittering with gold! The bed on which she lay was perfect,\nand the most beautiful to be seen anywhere in the wide world.\nLaideronnette got up and went out on to a wide balcony, where she saw\nall the beauties of nature before her. The gardens were full of\nflowers--flowers that gave out the rarest perfume; fountains splashed\neverywhere, and were surmounted by lovely figures; and outside the\ngardens was a wonderful forest green with verdure. The palace and the\nwalls were encrusted with precious stones, the roofs and ceilings were\nmade of pearls, so beautifully done that it was a perfect work of art.\nFrom the tower of the palace could be seen beyond the forest a sea calm\nand placid, just like a sheet of glass, and on the sea floated thousands\nof little boats with all kinds of different sails, which, when caught by\nthe wind, had the most lovely effect imaginable.\n\n'Gods, sweet gods!' cried Laideronnette, 'what do I see? Where am I? Is\nit possible that I am in heaven--I who yesterday was in peril in a\nbarque?' She walked as she spoke, then she stopped; what noise was that\nshe heard in her apartment? She turned and entered her room, and, coming\ntowards her, she saw a hundred little animated pagodas, all of\ndifferent designs. Some were very beautiful, while others were extremely\nugly. In fact there was hardly any difference between the little pagodas\nand the people who inhabit the world.\n\nThe pagoda which now presented itself before Laideronnette was the\ndeputy of the King. It said that sometimes it went travelling all over\nthe world, but was allowed to do so only on one condition: namely, that\nit did not talk to any one; otherwise the King would not give the\nnecessary permission. On its return it entertained the King by\nrecounting all that it had heard and seen; moreover, it held the most\nprecious secrets of the court. 'It will be a pleasure to serve you,\nmadam,' it went on, 'and everything you want we shall be delighted to\nget for you; in the meantime we will play for you and dance so that you\nwill have plenty to make you happy.' And they all began to dance and\nsing, and play on castanets and tambourines.\n\nWhen they had finished, the principal pagoda said to the Princess:\n'Listen, madam, these hundred pagodas are here expressly to serve you,\nand any mortal thing you want in the world you have only to ask for it\nand it shall be yours at once.' The little pagodas paused in their\nmovements and came near to Laideronnette, and she saw at a glance that\nthey were simply lovely. Looking inside, she saw that they contained\npresents for her, some useful and others so beautiful that she could\nonly cry out with joy.\n\nThe biggest pagoda, which was a little figure of pure diamonds, then\ncame up to Laideronnette and asked her if she would now like her bath in\nthe little grotto. The Princess walked, between a guard of honour, to\nthe place it pointed to, and there she saw two beautiful baths of\ncrystal, and from them came such a lovely fragrance that Laideronnette\ncould not help remarking about it. Then she asked why there were two\nbathing places, and they told her that one was for her and the other for\nthe King of the Pagodas.\n\n'But where is he, then?' cried Laideronnette. 'Madam,' said they, 'at\npresent he is at the war; but you shall see him on his return.'\n\nThe Princess asked them if he was married, and they shook their little\ntop turrets, meaning that he was not. Then they told her that he was so\ngood and kind that he had never found any one good enough to marry.\n\nLaideronnette then undressed herself and got into the bath, and at once\nthe pagodas began to sing and play. Then, when the Princess was ready to\ncome out of her bath, she was given a dress of shining colours, and they\nall walked before her to her room, where her toilet was made by maids,\nall of them quaint little pagodas.\n\nThe Princess was astounded, and expressed her delight at her great good\nfortune.\n\nThere was not a day that the pagodas did not come and tell her all the\nnews of the courts where they had been in different parts of the world.\nPeople plotting for war, others seeking for peace; wives who were\nunfaithful, old widowers who married wives a thousand times more\nunsuitable than those they had lost; discovered treasures; favourites at\ncourt, and out of it, who had fallen from the coveted seat they\noccupied; jealous wives, to say nothing at all about husbands; women who\nflirted, and naughty children;--in fact they told her everything that\nwas going on, to make her happy and to help to pass the time away.\n\nNow one night it happened that the Princess could not sleep, and she lay\nawake, thinking. At last she said: 'What is going to happen to me? Shall\nI always be here? My life is passed more happily than I ever could wish;\nbut, all the same, there is a feeling in my heart that there is\nsomething missing.'\n\n'Ah! Princess,' said a voice, 'is it not your own fault? If you would\nonly love me, you would recognise at once that it would be possible to\nremain in this palace for ever, alone with the one you loved, without\never wishing to leave it.'\n\n'Which little pagoda is speaking to me now?' she asked. 'What dreadful\ncounsel to give me, contrary to all I have been taught in my life!'\n\n'It is not a pagoda who is talking to you; it is the unhappy King who\nloves you, madam.'\n\n'A King who loves me!' replied the Princess. 'Has this King eyes, or\ndoes he need glasses? Has he not seen that I am the ugliest person in\nthe world?'\n\n'Yes, I have seen you, madam. All that you are, and all that you may\nhave been, make not the least difference to me. I repeat, I love you.'\n\nThe Princess did not speak again, but she spent the rest of the night\nthinking over this adventure.\n\nEvery day on getting up she found new clothes and fresh jewels; it was\ntoo much homage, considering she was so ugly.\n\nOne night--it must have been the darkest night of the whole\nyear--Laideronnette was asleep, and, on awakening, she felt that some\none sat near her bed. The Princess put out her hand to feel, but\nsomebody took her hand and kissed it, and in so doing let teardrops fall\nupon it. She knew full well that it must be the invisible King.\n\n'What do you want with me?' she said. 'Can I love somebody I have never\nseen and do not know?'\n\n'Ah! madam,' replied he, 'what pleasure it would give me to be able to\nfulfil your wish! But the wicked Magotine, who played you such a cruel\ntrick, has done the same to me, for I am condemned to remain thus for\nseven years; five have already gone by and there remain another two\nyears. You could, if you would, lessen the time and make it pass quickly\nfor me if you would marry me; you will think that what I ask is\nimpossible; but, madam, if you only knew how deep my love is for you,\nyou would never refuse me the favour I ask of you.'\n\nLaideronnette, as I have already said, thought that this invisible King\nwas very sweet, and the love he offered was without a doubt genuine.\nAnd, in a moment of pity, she replied that she would like a few days to\nthink over his proposal. So the days passed, and all the time the music\nwent on and the pagodas danced and new presents arrived for her, better\nthan those she had received before. And in the end the Princess made up\nher mind to marry the invisible King, and she promised to wait to see\nhim until his time of punishment was over and he could take visible\nshape again.\n\nThen the voice said: 'The consequences will be terrible for you and for\nme if your curiosity should overcome you, and I shall have to commence\nmy punishment all over again; but, should you, on the other hand, stay\nyour desire to see me, you will receive that beauty that the wicked\nMagotine took away from you.'\n\nThe Princess, full of this new hope, promised to keep her word to him.\nBut after a while she had a deep desire to see her father and mother\nagain; also her sister and her husband. The pagodas, who knew the road\nwell, conducted the royal family to the castle of Laideronnette's father\nand mother; and when she saw them she nearly died of joy.\n\nHer mother and her sister questioned Laideronnette about her husband,\nand Laideronnette remembered what her husband had told her; she did not\nlike to tell her people the truth, so she told them that he was at the\nwar fighting, and that he did not like seeing people. But her mother and\nsister chaffed her about him, and at last Laideronnette said that the\nwicked Magotine had punished him for seven years, that two remained to\nbe finished, and that she had married him without ever having seen him;\nbut that he was a charming person and his conversation proved the fact,\nand that if she held her curiosity until the two years were up, she\nwould regain all the beauty that the fairy Magotine had taken from her.\n\n'Ah!' replied her mother, 'is it possible that you are such a simpleton\nas to believe all those tales? Your husband is a huge monster; he is the\nKing of monkeys truly.'\n\n'I know full well,' replied Laideronnette, 'that he is the god of Love\nhimself.'\n\n'What a terrible mistake!' screamed the Queen Bellote.\n\nThe poor Princess was so confused and upset that, after giving them the\npresents, she resolved to go and see her husband. Ah, fatal curiosity!\nShe took a little lamp with her that she might be able to see him the\nbetter. What was her surprise when, instead of Love, she saw the Green\nSerpent! He drew himself up in rage and sorrow:\n\n'O wicked one!' cried he; 'is this the return for all my love for you?'\n\nNow Magotine, knowing that Laideronnette and the Green Serpent were in\ntrouble, came to add to their sorrow and taunt them. She took away, with\none wave of her wand, all the lovely castles and fountains and gardens.\nAnd Laideronnette, seeing all that she had done, was very troubled. So,\nduring the night, Laideronnette deplored her sad fate. Then, high up\nnear the stars, she saw coming towards her the Green Serpent.\n\n'I always make you afraid,' he cried; 'but you are infinitely dear to\nme.'\n\n'Is it you, Serpent, dear lover; is it you?' cried Laideronnette. 'Can\nyou forgive me for my fatal curiosity?'\n\n'Ah! how the sorrow of absence troubles this loving heart!' replied the\nSerpent, with never a word of reproach to Laideronnette for her broken\npromise.\n\nMagotine, now, was one of those fairies who never slept at all: the wish\nto do harm and never to miss the chance kept her awake; and she did not\nfail to hear the conversation between the King Serpent and his spouse;\nand she came down upon them in a fury.\n\n'Now then, Green Serpent,' said she, 'I order you for your punishment to\ngo right to the good Proserpine, and give her my compliments.'\n\nThe poor Green Serpent went at once with great sighs, leaving the Queen\nin sorrow. And Laideronnette cried out:\n\n'What crime have we committed now, you wicked Magotine? I am certain\nthat the poor King, whom you have sent to the bottomless pit of hell,\nwas as innocent as I myself am; but let me die: it is the least you can\ndo.'\n\n'You would be too happy,' said Magotine, 'were I to listen and grant you\nyour wish. I will send you to the bottom of the sea.' So saying, she\ntook the poor Princess to the top of the highest mountain and tied a\nmill-stone about her neck, telling her that she was to go down and bring\nenough Water of Discretion to fill up her great big glass. The Princess\nsaid that it was absolutely impossible to carry all that water.\n\n'If you do not,' said Magotine, 'you may rest assured that your Green\nSerpent will suffer more.'\n\nThis threat caused the Queen to think of her utter feebleness. She began\nto walk, but, alas! it was useless. Oh! if the Fairy Protectress would\nonly help her! Loudly she called, and lo! there stood the good fairy by\nher side.\n\n'See,' said she, 'to what a pass your fatal curiosity has brought you!'\nSo saying, she took her to the top of the mountain; she gave her a\nlittle carriage drawn by two white mice and told them to descend the\nmountain. Then she gave the little mice a vessel to fill up with the\nWater of Discretion for Magotine, and produced a little pair of iron\nshoes for Laideronnette to put on. She counselled her not to remain on\nthe mountain and not to stay by the fountain, but to go into a little\nwood and to remain there three years, for then Magotine would think that\nshe was getting the water or that she had perished in the awful perils\nof the voyage.\n\nLaideronnette kissed and embraced the good Fairy Protectress, and\nthanked her a thousand times for her great favours. 'But, madam,' said\nLaideronnette, 'all the joys that you have given me will not lessen the\nsorrow of not having my Green Serpent.'\n\n'He will come to you after you have been three years in the wood in the\nmountain,' said the fairy; 'and on your return you can give the water to\nMagotine.'\n\nLaideronnette promised the fairy not to forget anything she had told\nher. So, when she got into her carriage, the mice took her to get the\nwater, and afterwards they went to the wood that the fairy had told them\nabout. There never was a more lovely place. Fruit hung on all the\nbranches; and there were long avenues where the sun could not pierce;\nthousands of little fountains splashed, but the most wonderful thing of\nall was, that all the animals could speak.\n\nThree years passed, and the time had now arrived for her departure with\nthe water for Magotine. So Laideronnette told all the animals that she\nwas sorry to leave them, and tears fell from her eyes, because she was\nso touched with the kindness they all had shown her.\n\nShe did not forget the vessel full of the Water of Discretion, nor the\nlittle shoes of iron that the good fairy had given her; and, just when\nMagotine thought her dead, she presented herself all of a sudden before\nher, the stones around her neck, the shoes of iron on her feet, and the\nvessel full of water in her hand.\n\nMagotine on seeing her cried out in surprise. Where had she come from?\n\n'Madam,' said Laideronnette, 'I passed three years in trying to get this\nwater for you.'\n\nMagotine roared with laughter when she thought of the awful job this\npoor Queen must have had to get it; but she regarded her attentively.\n\n'What is it that I see?' she cried to Laideronnette, who had changed\ngreatly. 'How did you become so beautiful?'\n\nLaideronnette told her that she had washed in the Water of Discretion,\nand that was how she had become beautiful.\n\nMagotine, on hearing this, threw the water on the ground. 'I will be\navenged,' said she. 'Go down to the bottomless pit and ask Proserpine to\ngive you the Essence of Long Life for me; I am always afraid of falling\nill and dying. When you have done this you will be free. But mind you do\nnot upset any; neither may you drink the tiniest drop.\n\nThe poor Queen, on hearing this new order, was terribly cut up. She\nbegan to cry; and Magotine, seeing this, was delighted. 'Go on, get\naway!' said she. 'Do not lose one moment.'\n\nLaideronnette walked for a long time without finding the right path,\nturning first one way and then the other; then suddenly she saw the\nFairy Protectress, who said to her:\n\n'Do you know, beautiful Queen, that by the orders of Magotine your\nhusband is to remain as he is until you take the Essence of Life to that\nwicked fairy?'\n\n'I am yet a long way away,' said Laideronnette.\n\n'Here,' said the Fairy Protectress, 'see, here is a branch of a tree:\ntouch the earth and repeat this verse distinctly.'\n\nThe Queen once again kissed the knees of this really good and generous\nfairy, and at the same time repeated after her:\n\n    _'Thou who all malice canst disarm,\n      Protect me as I rove!\n    Deliver me from all who harm,\n      But not from him I love.\n    For, if devoured I am to be,\n      He is my monster--none but he!'_\n\nAnd immediately, in answer to her prayer, a little boy more beautiful\nthan any in heaven or earth came up to her. On his head was a garland of\nflowers, and in his hand a bow and arrow. The Queen knew at once that it\nwas Love. He said to her:\n\n'You appeal to me so tenderly that I deserted the heavens.'\n\nLove, who sang beautifully in verse, gave three knocks while singing\nthis song:\n\n    _'Earth, listen and my voice obey.\n    It is Love who speaks: reveal the way!'_\n\nThe earth obeyed: a path opened up, and Love took Laideronnette under\nhis protection; and so they arrived at the mouth of hell. She expected\nto see her husband in the form of a serpent, but he had just finished\nhis terrible punishment. The first thing that Laideronnette saw was\nindeed her husband; but she had never seen such a charming figure, nor\nany one so handsome; and neither had he seen any one so beautiful as\nshe had become. Then the Queen said with extreme tenderness:\n\n    _'Destiny! I bend the knee\n      To thee and thy decree:\n    If he must dwell in deepest hell\n      He dwelleth there with me,\n    For e'en in hell I'll love him well\n      For all eternity.'_\n\nThe King was full of joy and love, and showed it by the way he kissed\nher. Love, however, never did believe in wasting time, so he took the\nQueen to Proserpine. The Queen gave the compliments of the fairy\nMagotine, and begged her to give her the Essence of Long Life. Love took\nit and handed it to her, telling her not to forget the penalty that she\nhad paid for her curiosity, and to take every care this time. He would\nnever leave them again. He conducted them to the fairy Magotine, and\nthen, so that Magotine should not see him, he hid in their hearts.\n\nDuring this time the fairy Magotine was so impressed with the beauty of\nhuman feelings, that she received the poor unfortunate King and Queen\nwith some feeling of generosity. She gave them back the lovely palace\nwith all the good things that they had before, and made the King head of\nthe pagodas again. So they went home, and all the great sorrows that\nthey had passed through they soon forgot in the greater joy of each\nother.\n\n[Illustration: THE GREEN SERPENT\n\nLaideronnette kissed and embraced the good Fairy Protectress.\n\n_See page 141_]\n\n\n\n\nURASHIMA TARO\n\nA JAPANESE FAIRY TALE\n\n\nA very long time ago there lived in Japan a young fisherman named\nUrashima Taro. His father before him had been a very expert fisherman,\nbut Urashima's skill in the art so far exceeded that of his father, that\nhis name as a fisher was known far and wide beyond his own little\nvillage. It was a common saying that he could catch more fish in a day\nthan a dozen others could in a whole week.\n\nBut it was not only as a fisher that Urashima excelled. Wherever he was\nknown, he was loved for his kindly heart. Never had he hurt even the\nmeanest creature. Indeed, had it not been necessary to catch fish for\nhis living, he would always have fished with a straight hook, so as to\ncatch only such fish as wished to be caught. And as for teasing and\ntormenting animals, when he was a boy, his tenderness towards all the\ndumb creation was a matter for laughter with his companions; but nothing\nwould ever induce him to join in the cruel sport in which some boys\ndelight.\n\nOne evening, as Urashima was returning from a hard day's fishing, he met\na number of boys all shouting and laughing over something they were\nworrying in the middle of the road. It was a tortoise they had caught\nand were ill-treating. Between them all, what with sticks and stones and\nother kinds of torture, the poor creature was hard beset and seemed\nalmost frightened to death.\n\nUrashima could not bear to see a helpless thing treated in that way, so\nhe interfered.\n\n'Boys!' he said, 'that's no way to treat a harmless dumb creature.\nYou'll kill the poor thing!'\n\nBut the boys merely laughed, and, taking no further notice, continued\ntheir cruel sport.\n\n'What's a tortoise?' cried one. 'Besides, it's great fun. Come on,\nlads!' And they went on with their heartless game.\n\nUrashima thought the matter over for a little, wondering how he could\npersuade the boys to give the tortoise up to him. At last he said with a\nsmile, 'Come, boys! I know you're good-hearted young fellows: I'll make\na bargain with you. What I really wanted was to buy the tortoise,--that\nis, if it is your own.'\n\n'Of course it's our own. We caught it.' They had begun to gather round\nhim at the prospect of a sale, for they relished the money to buy\nsweetmeats even more than the cruel sport of tormenting an innocent\ncreature.\n\n'Very well,' replied Urashima, bringing a string of coins out of his\npocket and holding them up. 'See! you can buy a lot of nice things with\nthis. What do you say?'\n\nHe smiled at them so sweetly and spoke so gently that, with the cash\ndangling before their eyes, they were soon won over. The biggest boy\nthen grabbed the tortoise, and held it out to him with one hand, while\nhe reached for the string of coins with the other. 'All right, uncle,'\nhe said, 'you can have the tortoise.'\n\nUrashima handed over the money in exchange for the poor, frightened\ncreature, and the boys were soon making their way to the nearest\nsweetmeat shop.\n\nMeanwhile Urashima looked at the tortoise, which looked back at him with\nwistful eyes full of meaning; and, though it could not speak, the young\nfisherman understood it perfectly, and his tender heart went out to it.\n\n'Poor little tortoise!' he said, holding it up and stroking it gently to\nsoothe its fears, 'you are all right with me. But remember, sweet little\none, you've had a narrow squeak of losing a very long life. How long is\nit? Ten thousand years, they say;--that's ten times as long as a stork\ncan boast of. Now I'm going to take you right back to the sea, so that\nyou can swim away to your home and to your own people. But promise me\nyou will never let yourself be caught again.'\n\nThe tortoise promised with its eyes. So wistful and grateful were they,\nthat Urashima felt he could never forget them.\n\nBy this time he was down on the seashore, and there he placed the\ntortoise in the sea and watched it swim away. Then he went home feeling\nvery happy about the whole thing.\n\nMorning was breaking when Urashima pushed off his boat for his day's\nfishing. The sea was calm, and the air was full of the soft, sweet\nwarmth of summer. Soon he was out skimming over the blue depths, and\nwhen the tide began to ebb, he drifted far beyond the other fishermen's\nboats, until his own was lost to their sight.\n\nIt was such a lovely morning when the sun rose and slanted across the\nwaters, that, when he thought of the short span of human life, he wished\nthat he had thousands of years to live, like the tortoise he had rescued\nfrom the boys the day before.\n\nAs he was dreaming these thoughts, he was suddenly startled by a sweet\nvoice calling his name. It fell on his ears like the note of a silver\nbell dropping from the skies. Again it came, nearer than before:\n\n'Urashima! Urashima!'\n\nHe looked all around on the surface of the sea, thinking that some one\nhad hailed him from a boat, but there was no one there, as far as the\neye could reach.\n\nAnd now he heard the voice again close at hand, and, looking over the\nside of the boat, he saw a tortoise looking up at him, and he knew by\nits eyes that it was the same tortoise he had restored to the sea the\nprevious day.\n\n'So we meet again,' he said pleasantly. 'Fancy you finding me in the\nmiddle of the ocean! What is it, you funny little tortoise? Do you want\nto be caught again, eh?'\n\n'I have looked for you,' replied the tortoise, 'ever since dawn, and\nwhen I saw you in the boat I swam after you to thank you for saving my\nlife.'\n\n'Well, that's very nice of you to say that. I haven't much to offer you,\nbut if you would like to come up into the boat and dry your back in the\nsun we can have a chat.'\n\nThe tortoise was pleased to accept the invitation, and Urashima helped\nit up over the side. Then, after talking of many things, the tortoise\nremarked, 'I suppose you have never seen Rin Gin, the Dragon Sea-King's\npalace, have you?'\n\nUrashima shook his head.\n\n'No,' he replied. 'They tell me it is a beautiful sight, but in all the\nyears that I have spent upon the sea I have never been invited to the\nDragon King's palace. It's some distance from here, isn't it?'\n\n'I do not think you believe there is such a place,' replied the\ntortoise, who had seen a twinkle in Urashima's eye. 'Yet I assure you it\nexists, but a long way off--right down at the bottom of the sea. If you\nwould really like to see Rin Gin, I will take you there.'\n\n'That is very kind of you,' said Urashima with a polite bow, which\npleased the tortoise greatly; 'but I am only a man, you know, and cannot\nswim a long way under the sea like a tortoise.'\n\nBut the little creature hastened to reassure him.\n\n'That's not at all necessary,' it said. 'I'll do the swimming and you\ncan ride on my back.'\n\nUrashima laughed. The idea of his riding on the back of a tortoise that\nhe could hold in his hand was funny, and he said so.\n\n'Never mind how funny it is,' said the tortoise; 'just get on and see.'\nAnd then, as Urashima looked at it, the tortoise grew and grew and grew\nuntil its back was big enough for two men to ride upon.\n\n'What an extraordinary thing!' exclaimed Urashima. 'Right you are,\nfriend tortoise, I'll come with you.' And with that he jumped on.\n\n'That's better,' said the tortoise; 'now we'll be off. Hold tight!'\n\nThe next moment the tortoise plunged into the sea, and dived down and\ndown until Urashima thought they would never be able to reach the\nsurface again in a thousand years. At last he caught sight of a land\nbelow them, shining all green with the filtered sunlight; and now, as\nthey took a level course, he could make out the towns and villages\nbelow, with beautiful gardens full of bright flowers and waving dreamy\ntrees. Then they passed over a vast green plain, at the further side of\nwhich, in a village at the foot of high mountains, shone the splendid\nportals of a magnificent palace.\n\n'See!' said the tortoise, 'that is the entrance to Rin Gin. We shall\nsoon be there now. How do you feel?'\n\n'Quite well, thank you!' And indeed, when Urashima felt his clothes he\nfound they were quite dry, which was really not so surprising because,\nas he was borne swiftly through the water, there was all the time a\nspace of air around him, so that not only was he kept quite dry, but he\ncould breathe quite easily.\n\nWhen they drew nearer to the great gate, Urashima could see beyond it,\nhalf hidden by the trees, the shining domes of the palace. It was indeed\na magnificent place, unlike anything ever seen in the lands above the\nsea.\n\nNow they were at the great gate, and the tortoise stopped at the foot of\na flight of coral steps and asked him to dismount.\n\n'You can walk now, Urashima'; and it led the way. Then the gatekeeper--a\nroyal sturgeon--challenged them, but the tortoise explained that\nUrashima was a mortal from the great kingdom of Japan, who had come to\nvisit the Sea King, and the gatekeeper immediately showed them in.\n\nAs they advanced, they were met by the courtiers and officials. The\ndolphin, the bonito, the great cuttle-fish, the bright-red bream; and\nthe mullet, the sole, the flounder, and a host of other fishes came\nforward and bowed gracefully before the tortoise; indeed, such homage\ndid they pay that Urashima wondered what sway the tortoise held in this\nkingdom beneath the sea. Then, when the visitor was introduced, they all\ncried out a welcome. And the dolphin, who was a high official, remarked,\n'We are delighted to see so distinguished a stranger from the great\nkingdom of Japan. Welcome to the palace of the Dragon King of the Sea!'\n\nThen all the fishes went in a procession before them to the interior of\nthe palace.\n\nNow the humble fisherman had never been in such a magnificent place\nbefore. He had never read _How to behave in a Palace_, but, though much\namazed, he did not feel at all shy. As he followed his guides, he\nsuddenly noticed that the tortoise had disappeared, but he soon forgot\nthis when he saw a lovely Princess, surrounded by her maidens, come\nforward to greet him.\n\nShe was more beautiful than anything on earth, and her robes of pink and\ngreen changed colour like the surface of the sea at sunset in some\nsheltered cove. There were threads of pure gold in her long hair, and,\nas she smiled, her teeth looked like little white pearls. She spoke soft\nwords to him, and her voice was as the murmur of the sea.\n\nUrashima was so enchanted that he could not speak a word; but he had\nheard that one must always bow low to a Princess, and he was about to do\nso when the Princess tripped to his side, and, taking his hand in hers,\nled him off into a splendid apartment, where she conducted him to the\nplace of honour and asked him to be seated.\n\n'Listen to me, Urashima,' she said in a low, sweet voice. 'I am filled\nwith joy at welcoming you to my father's palace, and I will tell you\nwhy. Yesterday you saved the precious life of a tortoise. Urashima, I\nwas that tortoise! It was my life that you saved!'\n\nUrashima could not believe this at first, but, when he gazed into her\nbeautiful eyes, he remembered their wistful look, and her sweet words\nwere spoken in the same voice as that which had called his name upon the\nsea. And he was so astonished that he could not speak.\n\n'Would you like to live here always, Urashima,--to live in everlasting\nyouth, never growing tired or weary? This is the land of eternal summer,\nwhere all is joy, and neither death nor sorrow may come. Stay, Urashima,\nand I, the Princess of my father's kingdom, will be your bride!'\n\nUrashima felt it was all a dream; yet, if it were, then from the very\nheart of that dream he replied in words that came of their own accord.\n\n'Sweet Princess, if I could thank you ten thousand times I should still\nwant to thank you all over again. I will stay here; nay--more: I simply\ncannot go, for this is the most wonderful place I have ever dreamed of,\nand you are the most wonderful thing in it.'\n\nA smile spread over her lovely face. She bent towards him, and their\nlips met in the first sweet kiss of love.\n\nThen, as if by this a magic button had been pressed, a loud gong\nsounded, and immediately the whole palace was in a bustle of excitement.\nPresently a procession of all kinds of fishes came in, all richly\nattired in flowing robes of various colours. Each one advanced with slow\nand stately pace, some bearing beautiful flowers, others great\nmother-of-pearl dishes laden with all the delicacies that go to make a\nfeast; others bore trays of coral, red and white, with fragrant wines\nand rare fruits such as only grow at the bottom of the sea. It was the\nwedding feast, and with all decorum they set everything before the bride\nand bridegroom.\n\nIt was a day of great joy, a day of song and revelry. Throughout the\nwhole kingdom the choice wine flowed and the sweet music resounded. In\nthe palace the happy pair pledged themselves in a wedding cup, while the\nmusic played and glad songs were sung. Later on, the great hall of the\npalace was cleared for a grand ball, and all the fishes of the sea came\ndressed in their best gold and silver scales, and danced till the small\nhours. Never had Urashima known happiness so great; never had he moved\namid so much splendour.\n\nIn the morning the Princess showed Urashima over the palace, and pointed\nout all the wonders it contained. The whole place was fashioned out of\npink and white coral, beautifully carved and inlaid everywhere with\npriceless pearls. But, wonderful as was the palace itself, the wide\ngardens that encircled it appealed to Urashima even more.\n\nThese gardens were designed so as to represent the four seasons. Turning\nto the east, Urashima beheld all the wealth of Spring. Butterflies\nflitted from flower to flower, and bees were busy among the cherry\nblossoms. The song of the nightingale could be heard among the trees,\nand the sweetest fragrance was wafted on the breeze.\n\nFacing round to the south, he saw everything at the height of Summer.\nThe trees were fully green, and luscious fruits weighed down their\nbranches, while over all was the drowsy hum of the cicada.\n\nTo the west the whole landscape was ablaze with the scarlet foliage of\nAutumn; while, in the north, the whole outlook was beautiful with snow\nas far as the eye could reach.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIt was a wonderful country to live in and never grow old. No wonder that\nUrashima forgot his home in Japan, forgot his old parents, forgot even\nhis own name. But, after three days of indescribable happiness, he\nseemed to wake up to a memory of who he was and what he had been. The\nthought of his poor old father and mother searching everywhere for him,\nperhaps mourning him as dead; the surroundings of his simple home, his\nfriends in the little village,--all these things rushed in on his mind\nand turned all his joy to sadness.\n\n'Alas!' he cried, 'how can I stay here any longer? My mother will be\nweeping and wringing her hands, and my father bowing his old head in\ngrief. I must go back this very day.'\n\nSo, towards evening, he sought the Princess, his bride, and said sadly:\n\n'Alas! alas! you have been so kind to me and I have been so very, very\nhappy, that I have forgotten and neglected my parents for three whole\ndays. They will think I am dead and will weep for me. I must say\nfarewell and leave you.'\n\nThen the Princess wept and besought him to remain with her.\n\n[Illustration: THE STORY OF URASHIMA TARO\n\nUrashima was so enchanted that he could not speak a word.\n\n_See page 150_]\n\n'Beloved!' he protested, 'in our land of Japan there is no crime so\nterrible as the crime of faithlessness to one's parents. I cannot face\nthat, and you would not have me do it. Yet it will break my heart to\nleave you--break my heart--break my heart! I must go, beloved, but only\nfor one day; then I will return to you.'\n\n'Alas!' cried the Princess, 'what can we do? You must act as your heart\nguides you. I would give the whole world to keep you with me just one\nmore day. But I know it cannot be. I know something of your land and\nyour love of your parents. I will await your return: you will be gone\nonly one day. It will be a long day for me, but, when it is over, and\nyou have told your parents all, you will find a tortoise waiting for you\nby the seashore, and you will know that tortoise: it is the same that\nwill take you back to your parents--for one day!'\n\n'Oh, my beloved! How can I leave you? But----'\n\n'But you must. Wait! I have something to give you before you go.'\n\nThe Princess left him hastily and soon returned with a golden casket,\nset with pearls and tied about with a green ribbon made from the\nfloating seaweed.\n\n'Take it,' said she.\n\n'After all your other gifts?' said he, feeling rather ashamed.\n\n'You saved my life,' said she. 'You _are_ my life, and all I have is\nyours. That casket contains all. When you go up to the dry land you must\nalways have this box with you, but you must never open it till you\nreturn to me. If you do--alas! alas, for you and me!'\n\n'I promise, I promise. I will never open it till I return to you.'\nUrashima went on his bended knee as he said these words.\n\n'Farewell!'\n\n'Farewell!'\n\nUrashima was then conducted to the gate by the court officials, led by\nthe dolphin. There the royal sturgeon blew a loud whistle, and presently\na large tortoise came up. As Urashima mounted on its back, it averted\nits head as if to conceal its eyes. Perhaps it had a reason. And for\nthat same identical reason Urashima sat on its back stolidly, and never\na word spoken.\n\nDown they went into the deep, green sea, and then up into the blue. For\nmiles and miles and miles they sped along, until they came to the coast\nof Japan. There Urashima stepped ashore, answered the wistful eyes of\nthe tortoise with a long, lingering gaze of love, and hastened inland.\n\nThe tortoise plunged back into the sea, and Urashima was left on the\nland with a sense of sadness.\n\nHe looked about him, recognising the old landmarks. Then he went up into\nthe village; but, as he went, he noticed with some surprise that\neverything seemed wonderfully changed. The hills were the same, and, in\na way, the village was familiar, but the people who passed him on the\nroad were not those he had known three days ago. Surely three short days\nwould leave him exactly where he stood before he went. Three days could\nnever produce this change. He was at a loss to understand it. People he\ndid not know--strangers in the village, he supposed--passed him by as if\nhe were a complete stranger. Some of them turned and looked at him as\none would look at a newcomer. Furthermore, he noticed that the slender\ntrees of three days since were now giant monarchs of the wayside.\n\nAt last, wondering greatly, he came to his old home. How changed it was!\nAnd, when he turned the handle of the door and walked in, crying out,\n'Ho, mother! ho, father! I have come back at last!' he was met by a\nstrange man barring the doorway.\n\n'What do you want?'\n\n'What do you mean? I live here. Where are my father and mother? They are\nexpecting me.'\n\n'I do not understand. What is your name?'\n\n'Urashima Taro.'\n\n'Urashima Taro!' cried the man in surprise.\n\n'Yes, that is my name: Urashima Taro!'\n\nThe man laughed, as if he saw the joke.\n\n'You don't mean the original Urashima Taro?' he said. 'But still, you\nmay be some descendant of his--what?'\n\n'I do not understand you. My name is Urashima Taro. There is no other\nbears that name. I am the fisherman: surely you know me.'\n\nThe man looked at Urashima very closely to see if he were joking or not.\n\n'There _was_ a Urashima Taro, a famous fisherman of three hundred years\nago, but you--you are joking.'\n\n'Nay, nay, I am not joking. It is you that are joking with your three\nhundred years. I left here three or four days ago, and now I have\nreturned. Where have my father and mother gone?'\n\nThe man stared at him aghast.\n\n'Are you mad?' he cried. '_I_ have lived in this house for thirty years\nat least, and, as for your father and mother--why, if you are really\nUrashima Taro, they have been dead three hundred years; and that is\nabsurd. Do you want me to believe you are a ghost?'\n\n'Not so; look at my feet.' And Urashima put out one foot and then the\nother, in full accordance with the Japanese belief that ghosts have no\nfeet.\n\n'Well, well,' said the man, 'you can't be Urashima Taro, whatever you\nsay, for he lived three hundred years ago, and you are not yet thirty.'\n\nWith this the man banged the door in Urashima's face.\n\nWhat could it all mean? Urashima Taro dead. Lived three hundred years\nago. What nonsense! He must be dreaming. He pinched his ear and assured\nhimself that he was not only alive, but wide awake. And yet--and\nyet--everything about him seemed very much changed since he saw it last.\nHe stood stock still on his way to the gate, and looked this way and\nthat, trying to find something that had suffered only three days'\nchange. But everything was unfamiliar.\n\nThen an idea struck him. On the morning of the day that he had rescued\nthe tortoise from the boys, he had planted a little willow slip down by\nthe pond in the field. He would go and look at it, and that would settle\nthe matter.\n\nSo he took his way to the pond. Half-way he was baulked by a hedge, high\nand thick, which was new to him, but he found a way through a gap. Well\nhe remembered the exact spot where he had planted the willow slip on the\nedge of the pond, but, when he arrived there, he could see no sign of\nit. In its place was a gigantic trunk bearing vast branches which\ntowered overhead. And there the birds were singing the same songs as\nthey sang--three days ago! Alas! could it indeed be three _centuries_\nago?\n\nPerplexed beyond measure, Urashima resolved to go to the fountain-head\nand settle the matter once and for all. Turning away, he made all haste\nto the village--was this the village he had known?--and inquired of a\ncountryman he had never seen before, where the village chronicles were\nkept.\n\n'Yonder,' said the man, pointing to a building which had certainly taken\nmore than three days to erect.\n\nUrashima thanked him and then hastened to the building and went in. He\nwas not long in finding what he wanted. It was an ancient entry, and it\nran:\n\n'Urashima Taro--a famous fisherman who lived in the early part of the\nfourteenth century--the traditional patron demi-god of fishermen. There\nare many stories concerning this half-mythical character, chief of which\nis that he hooked a whale far from shore, and, as he would not\nrelinquish the prize, his boat was dragged for ever and ever over the\nsurface of the sea. Mariners of the present day solemnly aver that they\nhave seen Urashima Taro sitting in his boat skimming the waves as he\nheld the line by which he had caught the whale. Whatever the real\nhistory of Urashima Taro, it is certain that he lived in the village,\nand the legend concerning him is the subject of great interest to\nvisitors from the great land of America.'\n\nUrashima shut the book with a slam and went away, down to the seashore.\nAs he went, he realised that those three days he had spent in perfect\nhappiness with the Princess were not three days at all, but three\nhundred years. His parents were long since dead, and all was changed.\nWhat else could he do but go back to the Dragon kingdom under the sea?\n\nBut when he reached the shore, he found no tortoise ready to take him\nback, and, after waiting a long time, he began to think his case was\nhopeless. Then, suddenly, he bethought himself of the little box which\nthe Princess had given him. He drew it forth and looked at it. He had\npromised her not to open it, but what did it matter now? As he did not\ncare what happened to him, the deadly secret of the box was just as well\nout as in. Besides, he might learn something from it, some secret way of\nfinding his beloved Princess--and that would be happiness; but if, on\nthe other hand, some terrible thing happened to him, what did it\nsignify?\n\nSo he sat down on the seashore, untied the fastenings of the little box\nand then lifted the lid. He was surprised to find that the box was\nempty; but, slowly, out of the emptiness came a little thin, purple\ncloud which curled up and circled about his head. It was fragrant, and\nreminded him of the sweet perfume of the Princess's robes. Now it\nfloated away towards the open sea and Urashima's soul seemed to go with\nit.\n\nSuddenly he stood up, thinking he heard her sweet voice calling him. For\na moment he stood there, a splendid figure of early youth. Then a change\ncame over him. His eyes grew dim, his hair turned silvery white, lines\ncame upon his face, and his form seemed to shrivel with extreme old age.\n\nThen Urashima Taro reeled and staggered to and fro. The burden of three\nhundred years was too heavy for him. He threw up his arms and fell dead\nupon the sand.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FIRE BIRD\n\nA RUSSIAN FAIRY TALE\n\n\nIt was a great day when the Prince was born. The King was delighted, and\nthe Queen nearly went mad with joy. The courtiers, though they hardly\ndared dance a Trepak in the palace, could not keep their heels still;\nwhile the guards, the attendants, the little pages and pretty kitchen\nmaids, drank tea and coffee, glass after glass, till the following\nmorning, when they all had supper, and then crept off on tip-toe to bed.\nThe people clapped their hands and sang and danced in the squares and\nstreets, till those who danced the longest got sore throats, and those\nwho sang the loudest got footsore. The whole city could not sleep for\njoy. The young Prince was the first-born, and would one day sit upon the\nthrone: was this a thing to put under the pillow? On with the dance!\nAnother song! Drink deep to the young Prince!\n\nThe doctors smiled, and stroked the smile down to the tips of their grey\nbeards as they nodded to one another amiably. The child was strong and\nhealthy, and would live; and besides, they all agreed upon the point\nthat he was a Prince, and had his father's nose. But alas! doctors are\nnot everybody. After the revel a wise man from Persia, who was staying\nin the city at the time, awoke from his slumbers and dressed himself,\nand went to see the King. Sunk in a deep sleep, he had missed the\ncelebrations, but he had found a vision of the future; and he was now\nhastening to see the King about it, for, as you must understand, when a\nwise man knows the worst he can never keep it to himself.\n\nWhen he came before the King, he had scarcely the heart to tell him\nwhat would befall his first-born; but the King bade him speak out, and\nhe obeyed.\n\n'Sire,' he said humbly, 'I come not to tell thee bad news, but rather to\nwarn thee in time, lest a vision that came to me in the night should\nperchance come true.'\n\nThe King looked a little anxious, for he had heard tales, strange but\ntrue, about this wise man from Persia and his wonderful powers.\n\n'Speak on, Ferdasan,' he said.\n\n'Sire,' replied the seer, 'the dream that came to me was a deep-sleep\nvision. Doubt not that it is a warning entrusted to me to lay before\nyou. O King, this is the substance of it. Fifteen years came and went\nbefore my inner eyes, and the son that has been born to you from heaven\ngrew more beautiful year by year. But at the close of the fifteenth year\nhe--flew away!'\n\n'Flew away!' cried the King, startled. 'And what was the manner of his\nflight, O Ferdasan?'\n\n'Sire, in the midst of the palace gardens, Hausa, the Bird of the Sun,\ncame to seek him or to be sought by him. He mounted on the back of this\nbird; and then, as the twilight fell, it carried him away westward.'\n\n'With what purpose, Ferdasan?'\n\n'That, sire, I can reveal to you only in words that hide my thoughts,\nand----'\n\n'Nay, nay; tell me all, I command you.'\n\n'His fate stands thus. He is destined to marry the Maiden of the Dawn,\nand, in quest of her, he will fly westward in his fifteenth year,\nunless----'\n\n'Yes, unless what, man?'\n\n'Unless you yourself, sire, keep watch and ward and so prevent him.'\n\nThe King stared at the seer. How could he believe this thing?\n\n'It seems that you have come to disturb my peace,' he said angrily.\n'What proof have I that you speak truly? If your wisdom has brought me\nthis warning, then your wisdom can avert the evil fate. You will remain\nin this palace until the die is cast. That is my command.'\n\n[Illustration: THE FIRE BIRD\n\nThere he found the Princess asleep and saw that her face was the face he\nhad seen in the portrait.\n\n_See page 165_]\n\n'Sire,' replied Ferdasan humbly, 'my work is done, and I must return to\nmy cave in the mountains.'\n\n'What!' cried the King in a rage, 'you defy me? I will compel you.'\n\n'You cannot,' replied Ferdasan. 'Seers stand before kings--and that is\ntrue in two ways.\n\n'We shall see.' The King clapped his hands fiercely. Then, as two guards\ncame running in answer to the summons, he cried, 'Take that man and\nplace him in a dungeon!'\n\nThe guards turned upon Ferdasan, who stood calm and unmoved, looking at\nthe King. Then, as they were about to seize him, a strange thing\nhappened. They clutched at the empty air and staggered against one\nanother, amazed. For a moment the Throne-room seemed to echo a sweet\nmusic from far away; for a moment it was filled with the faint fragrance\nof mountain lilies; then the King saw a thin grey mist slowly issuing\nthrough one of the windows, to dissolve in the sunlight.\n\nAnd then he knew.\n\nFrom that time forward, the King regarded the seer's prediction with\ngreat anxiety. He watched the young Prince continually in his first\nyears, and, when, as was often the case, he saw him gazing wistfully\ntowards the west when the sun had set, he felt sure that the coming\nevent had cast its shadow before.\n\nAccordingly, as soon as the young Prince entered his fifteenth year, the\nKing had him imprisoned in a lofty tower situated in the palace gardens,\nand placed a guard about it, for he was determined to take no risk\nwhatever.\n\nBut, while he kept the Prince a close prisoner, he surrounded him with\nevery luxury, for he loved him dearly. He even promised him that, on his\nfifteenth birthday, a great festival would be held in his honour, though\nhe himself would only be allowed to watch the festivities from the high\nwindow of the tower.\n\nThe Prince implored his father to let him wander in the gardens on his\nbirthday; but the King was so afraid that, by some means or other, he\nwould be spirited away, that he refused. In addition to this, he\ndouble-locked and barred the topmost room of the tower in which the\nPrince was imprisoned.\n\nOn the day of the festival, the sun rose bright. As the Prince watched\nit from his high window, his heart rose with it. At noon he had fully\ndecided to disobey his father and escape from his prison. He brooded\ntill sunset; then, as the twilight gathered, he went to the window again\nand listened to the sounds of festivity in the city all around.\nPresently, he leaned out over the window-sill and looked down. It was a\nlong way to the ground, but the gardens were beautiful, and he was\ndetermined to reach them and roam free among the trees and flowers. Was\nnot this his birthday, and was not the city holding high festival in his\nhonour? It seemed hard that he should be a prisoner, when even the\nguards of his prison had stolen away to join the merry throng. The city\nwithout was a blaze of light and a chorus of revel, but the gardens\nbelow seemed to be deserted: now was his opportunity.\n\nTurning back into the apartment, he swept his eyes round for anything\nthat would serve as a rope. There were heavy hangings falling from the\nhigh ceiling: he could not pull these down. There was the carpet; yes,\nhe could make a rope of that.\n\nHe quickly secured a knife, and ripped from the edge of the carpet many\nlong threads. When he had a sufficient number, he set to work to plait a\nrope, splicing fresh threads in at intervals until it was nearly a\nhundred feet long. Then he tied one end of it securely to one of the\npillars supporting the roof, and let the free length of it down from the\nwindow. By the light of the full moon sailing overhead, he could see\nthat the end of the rope reached as far as the branches of a tree\ngrowing at the foot of the tower.\n\nIt was now past midnight, and the garden below was just as silent as the\ncity outside was loud with merriment. As the Prince climbed over the\nwindow-sill and let himself down the rope, he took no thought as to how\nhe might get back again; it was quite enough to get away from the\nlonely, stifling place of his imprisonment.\n\nAt last his feet touched the topmost bough of the tree, but there was\nrope to spare; and he went on until, at the end of it, he was able to\ngrasp a bough thick enough to bear his weight; and by this means he\nclimbed along to the trunk, and so to the ground.\n\nThere was no one about. The guards were all away merrymaking in the\nPrince's honour. Although he was still a prisoner within the garden\nwalls, he was enjoying his adventure and the sense of freedom to wander,\neven in the gardens.\n\nHe took his way along pathways where the moonbeams strayed. He drank in\nthe cool night air, and paused ever and again to pluck a sweet-smelling\nnight-flower. Wandering on, he came at length to a bank at the end of\nthe garden, beyond which he knew was a steep cliff overlooking a valley.\nBefore his father had shut him up in the tower, he had always been\nforbidden to approach that end of the garden, and he had never done so;\nbut now his curiosity led him on, and he advanced cautiously along an\navenue of overarching trees. But it soon grew so dense and dark, that he\nwas about to turn back, when suddenly he espied a misty light beginning\nto grow brighter and brighter at the far end of the avenue.\n\nEager to find out where this light came from, and seeing his way more\nclearly now, he hastened on, and soon arrived at the mouth of a large\ncave, which, inside, was as bright as day. He ventured farther forward\nand peered round a buttress of rock; and there, in the centre of the\ncave, a strange sight met his eyes. A gigantic bird was standing there,\ngetting ready to fly through the farther opening overlooking the valley.\nIt was stretching its neck and flapping its wings; and, from every\nfeather of these, flashed rays and sparkles of light, illuminating the\nwhole place.\n\nIn the centre of the cavern floor was a crystal pool into which, from a\nledge high up on the wall, fell a broad cascade almost like a flowing\nveil, and the strong light shed by the giant bird shone through this on\nto the rock behind it. And there the Prince saw the most beautiful thing\nhe had ever set eyes on.\n\nIt was an oval picture, framed in crystal, and hanging behind the\ntransparent cascade--a picture of a beautiful Princess. And, as he\nlooked, her eyes met his.\n\nImmediately the young Prince was filled with a great longing to find the\noriginal of this portrait, but it seemed that his only way of doing so\nwas through the help of the great bird, which was now attracting his\nattention by strange signs. First it looked at him with a kindly eye;\nthen it craned its neck towards the farther opening of the cave, and,\nflapping its wings as if about to fly, ran a step or two and then\nstopped and looked back at him. After doing this two or three times it\ncrouched down and turned its head sideways, looking straight at him, as\nmuch as to say, 'Don't you want to ride in the air?'\n\nThe Prince saw the bird's meaning, but, to signify that he wanted to\nfind the Princess, he pointed to the picture. At this the bird spread\nits wings right out until the tips brushed against each side of the\ncave, the feathers quivering intensely and throwing out a bright light\nwhich almost blinded the Prince.\n\nThen the bird drew in its wings and made a sign to him to mount between\nthem. At this the Prince, feeling sure that the giant bird meant to take\nhim to the Princess, climbed up and seated himself between the great\nwings.\n\nIn another moment the bird had launched itself from the farther opening\nof the cave, and they were soon sailing high over the valley. Some\nrevellers in the city looked up and saw what they took to be a meteor\nflashing across the sky; but it was really the Fire Bird bearing the\nPrince swiftly to the far-off palace of the Princess.\n\nHow many thousands of miles they flew between the darkest hour and dawn,\nthe Prince could not tell. Nestling warm and comfortable among the soft\nfeathers, he heard the roar of the great creature's wings, and knew they\nwere travelling at a tremendous pace. And at last the Fire Bird craned\nits neck downwards, and, as they began to descend in a slanting\ndirection, the Prince could see something sparkling on the horizon in\nthe first rosy light of dawn.\n\nNearer and nearer they came, and now he could distinguish the great\ngates and towers of what seemed to be a palace of pure crystal,\nsurrounded by beautiful gardens.\n\nSwiftly they swooped downwards, and the Fire Bird alighted on the edge\nof a broad balcony, and crouched down for the Prince to dismount.\n\nThe journey had not been in vain. There, on a mossy bank among the\nbeautiful flowers in the garden, he found the Princess asleep; and, as\nhe looked down at her, he saw that her face was the face he had seen in\nthe portrait.\n\nHe tried to wake her, but her sleep was sound: she did not stir. He\nbreathed on her eyelids and whispered in her ear, but still she slept\non.\n\nSeeing this, the Bird grew restless, and craning its neck forward,\nseized the Prince with its beak and placed him again between its wings.\nThen it sprang upwards and soared swiftly into the sky.\n\nSoon they were back in the cave, and the Prince, dreading to return to\nthe prison tower, spent the hours of daylight in his warm nest between\nthe Fire Bird's wings.\n\nThe following night, as the hours were drawing on towards dawn, the Bird\nset forth again. But again the Prince was unable to wake the sleeping\nPrincess, so they returned once more. But, on the third night, when they\nreached the Princess, the light of dawn was in the sky, and, as it grew\nevery moment rosier and rosier, the Princess awoke of her own accord to\nfind the young Prince sitting among the flowers by her side. She had\nonly just time to see the Fire Bird pluck a feather from its wing with\nits beak, and let it fall at her feet, before it soared away. She picked\nup the feather and placed it in her bosom. Then she looked at the\nPrince.\n\nThere is love, and there is love; but such love as sprang up at the same\nmoment in two hearts can never be described. It was as if she had been\ndreaming about him all her life, and now she had awakened to find him.\nIt was as if his journey had been to Paradise. She raised her arms to\nhim, and he enfolded her and kissed her. Then they wandered among the\nflowers and trees, and all the birds understood: they sang so divinely.\n\nTowards evening, as the shadows began to fall, the Princess's sister,\nwho was a wicked Sorceress, came into the garden and stood behind a tree\nwatching the lovers.\n\n'I'll soon put an end to this,' she said, clenching her hands in jealous\nrage. She went away and performed spells, and, by her wicked arts, she\nsummoned the image of the Prince before her, so that his life went out\nof his body, and he remained in the Princess's arms like one dead.\n\nTerrified and distracted with grief, the Princess carried the lifeless\nbody of her lover into the palace and laid it on a couch in her own\napartment. There, exhausted with the effort, she fell upon it, weeping\nbitterly. She called his name, but he did not answer. His ears were\ndeaf, his eyes were closed, his pale lips did not respond to her kisses.\n\nBut the Prince was not dead: he was bewitched. The Sorceress, by means\nof his image, had torn his heart from his breast and had taken it far\naway. Yet, all the time, that heart was still beating with life, and\nwith love for the Princess.\n\nForlorn and sorrowful the Princess sat by the couch, when suddenly she\nstarted up with clenched hands.\n\n'I know! I know!' she cried. Then she bent down and kissed the Prince's\nlips. She felt them tremble against hers, and, though she could not call\nhim back, she knew that he was not dead. 'Oh! my wicked sister! This is\nyour work. You have bewitched my love! Never again! This is the end!'\n\nShe ran everywhere, in and about the palace, in search of her sister,\nher hands clenched, her eyes blazing, her teeth set. But she could not\nfind her. At last a page, terrified to death at her aspect, confessed\nthat her sister had fled from the palace alone, mounted on the fleetest\nsteed of the stables.\n\nThe Princess at once resolved to follow her and force her to restore\nthe Prince to life and health. But, at the very outset, there was a\nterrible difficulty to be surmounted. The Princess herself had never\nbeen beyond the walls that encircled the vast grounds of the palace. She\nknew that there were twelve gates, and that only one of these was left\nunlocked from sunset till sunrise, and that none could tell which one it\nmight be. Now the law of the palace permitted her to try one gate each\nnight, and one gate only.\n\nShe sat down and thought, and then decided to try the same gate each\nnight until it happened to be the right one. For twelve nights she\ntried, but each time she found the gate locked and barred.\n\nThen she suddenly remembered that, when the Fire Bird had brought the\nPrince to her, it had plucked a bright feather from its wing and let it\nfall at her feet. She had preserved it in a golden casket. Could it be\nthat this feather had magic powers? She ran with all haste to her\napartment, and took it from the casket. As she did so, it sparkled and\nquivered. As she held it up she was more than ever convinced that it\nheld magic powers.\n\nShe looked at the feather, and she thought of the Fire Bird itself, and\nwished that it could only come and advise her what to do.\n\nScarcely had she conceived the wish, when a faint sound from far away\nstruck upon her ears. As she listened, it grew louder and louder, and\nnearer and nearer, until at last she knew it was the roar of the Fire\nBird's wings. She ran out onto the balcony, and there she saw it, like a\nmeteor in the sky, every moment growing bigger.\n\nAt last, with a glad, shrill cry, it swooped down, and its giant wings\nfluttered and vibrated a moment before it alighted on the edge of the\nbalcony, its fiery golden light sparkling on the crystal pillars and\nshimmering in the air all around.\n\nThe Princess held up the feather, and the Fire Bird bowed its head\nslowly three times. Then it suddenly turned round as if to fly away, but\nlooked back at her, and raised its wings, and fluffed out the soft,\nglistening feathers in the hollow of its back. Arching its head round,\nit began to act as if it were preparing a nest for her between its\nwings, and the Princess saw plainly that it was only waiting for her to\nseat herself there before flying away. The Bird knew what she wanted;\nshe was sure of that. So she mounted between the wings, and nestled down\non a soft feather bed of dazzling golden light, warm and comfortable.\nThen, with a long, jubilant cry the Bird rose in the air, and, craning\nits neck westward, flashed through space at a terrific rate.\n\nVery soon they overtook the setting sun, passed it, and left it sinking\non the horizon as they went on into the purlieus of the Land of Night\nand Silence, which lies beyond the great round shoulder of the world.\nAnd here the Fire Bird blazed along, leaving a trail of light in its\nwake and throwing a radiance on the hills and forests over which it\npassed; until it came, by way of the Valley-which-has-no-Borders, to the\nForest-without-an-End.\n\nHere the Bird swooped downwards and alighted before a black-mouthed\ncave. He crouched while the Princess dismounted. As she did so, the Bird\nplucked two fresh feathers from its wing with its beak and held them out\nto her. They shed a brilliant light, and she, seeing at once that they\nwould serve as lamps, took them, one in each hand, and advanced into the\ngloomy cave.\n\nShe had not gone far when she heard a voice crooning a witch song, and,\npeering round the edge of a rock, she espied her sister seated beside a\ncauldron, beneath which was a freezing fire fed with blocks of frozen\nbrine.\n\nFrom the witch song her sister was singing, the Princess learned that\nher lover's heart was in the cauldron. She listened while the Sorceress\nsang:\n\n    _'Seethe! Seethe! Heart of her lover,\n      Beating in tune with mine.\n    Never the two their love can recover,\n      Never their arms entwine.\n    Freeze! Freeze! Heart in this cauldron,\n      Seared by the frozen brine!'_\n\n[Illustration: THE FIRE BIRD\n\nWith a scream the Princess rushed forward, and before her wicked sister\ncould prevent her, she had upset her cauldron with a crash.\n\n_See page 168_]\n\nWith a scream the Princess rushed forward, and, before her wicked sister\ncould prevent her, she had upset the cauldron with a crash. Some of the\nicy fire of brine splashed up in the face of the Sorceress, and with a\nloud, grating shriek, she fell to the ground senseless--dead!\n\nThe Princess snatched up her lover's heart, and placed it in her bosom\nagainst her own, where she could feel it still beating. Then, without\nwaiting another moment, she ran back to the Fire Bird, and sprang upon\nits back with a cry of joy, patting its neck and stroking its feathers.\n\nUp in the sky they soared again, and away over the world towards the\npalace in the Home of the Dawn. And, as they neared their destination,\nthe Princess suddenly missed something. Quickly she felt in her bosom to\nsee if the heart of her lover was safe; but lo, it was gone! It seemed\nto have grown warm and melted right away.\n\nDistressed at this, she urged the Fire Bird to still greater speed,\nuntil his track through the sky was like that of a shooting star. At\nlength they swooped down and alighted on the balcony of the palace. The\nroaring of the Fire Bird's wings was stilled, but the hum of its\nfeathers continued--a throbbing pulsation of musical sound.\n\nAs the Princess alighted, the Prince himself came running to her. Then,\nwith a mingled cry of delight, the lovers leapt to greet each other,\nand, when they were enfolded in each other's arms, the Fire Bird\ndiscreetly turned his head away and preened his tail feathers.\n\nThe Princess did not trouble about her lover's heart which she had taken\nfrom the Sorceress and missed on the way. She now felt it beating\nagainst her own, and knew that it was in its right place. The Prince was\nfree from the wicked spell at last.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe Fire Bird's work was done. Without a word he sprang into the air,\nand was soon lost to sight. And the lovers did not hear him go, for, by\nsome mysterious power, he hushed his wings and went secretly, for, as\nyou must have seen, he was really a very old bird.\n\nThe Prince and the Princess were married very soon, and, during the\ncelebrations, the Fire Bird was seen to circle thrice every night round\nthe palace, but he never settled.\n\nAs King and Queen of the People of the Dawn, they reigned for long\nyears, and the Fire Bird was always their friend. On every anniversary\nof their wedding day, they awoke to the sound of his roaring wings. He\nalways brought a present; and do you know what it was? Just a single\nfeather of his shining wing, so that they might obtain whatever joy they\nwished for.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF THE BIRD FENG\n\nA CHINESE FAIRY TALE\n\n\nIn the Book of the Ten Thousand Wonders there are three hundred and\nthirty-three stories about the bird called _Feng_, and this is one of\nthem.\n\nTa-Khai, Prince of Tartary, dreamt one night that he saw in a place\nwhere he had never been before an enchantingly beautiful young maiden\nwho could only be a princess. He fell desperately in love with her, but\nbefore he could either move or speak, she had vanished. When he awoke he\ncalled for his ink and brushes, and, in the most accomplished\nwillow-leaf style, he drew her image on a piece of precious silk, and in\none corner he wrote these lines:\n\n    The flowers of the paeony\n      Will they ever bloom?\n    A day without her\n      Is like a hundred years.\n\nHe then summoned his ministers, and, showing them the portrait, asked if\nany one could tell him the name of the beautiful maiden; but they all\nshook their heads and stroked their beards They knew not who she was.\n\nSo displeased was the prince that he sent them away in disgrace to the\nmost remote provinces of his kingdom. All the courtiers, the generals,\nthe officers, and every man and woman, high and low, who lived in the\npalace came in turn to look at the picture. But they all had to confess\ntheir ignorance. Ta-Khai then called upon the magicians of the kingdom\nto find out by their art the name of the princess of his dreams, but\ntheir answers were so widely different that the prince, suspecting their\nability, condemned them all to have their noses cut off. The portrait\nwas shown in the outer court of the palace from sunrise till sunset, and\nexalted travellers came in every day, gazed upon the beautiful face, and\ncame out again. None could tell who she was.\n\nMeanwhile the days were weighing heavily upon the shoulders of Ta-Khai,\nand his sufferings cannot be described; he ate no more, he drank no\nmore, and ended by forgetting which was day and which was night, what\nwas in and what was out, what was left and what was right. He spent his\ntime roaming over the mountains and through the woods crying aloud to\nthe gods to end his life and his sorrow.\n\nIt was thus, one day, that he came to the edge of a precipice. The\nvalley below was strewn with rocks, and the thought came to his mind\nthat he had been led to this place to put a term to his misery. He was\nabout to throw himself into the depths below when suddenly the bird\n_Feng_ flew across the valley and appeared before him, saying:\n\n'Why is Ta-Khai, the mighty Prince of Tartary, standing in this place of\ndesolation with a shadow on his brow?'\n\nTa-Khai replied: 'The pine tree finds its nourishment where it stands,\nthe tiger can run after the deer in the forests, the eagle can fly over\nthe mountains and the plains, but how can I find the one for whom my\nheart is thirsting?'\n\nAnd he told the bird his story.\n\nThe _Feng_, which in reality was a _Feng-Hwang_, that is, a female\n_Feng_, rejoined:\n\n'Without the help of Supreme Heaven it is not easy to acquire wisdom,\nbut it is a sign of the benevolence of the spiritual beings that I\nshould have come between you and destruction. I can make myself large\nenough to carry the largest town upon my back, or small enough to pass\nthrough the smallest keyhole, and I know all the princesses in all the\npalaces of the earth. I have taught them the six intonations of my\nvoice, and I am their friend. Therefore show me the picture, O Ta-Khai,\nand I will tell you the name of her whom you saw in your dream.'\n\n[Illustration: THE STORY OF THE BIRD FENG\n\nThe wonderful bird, like a fire of many colours came down from heaven,\nalighted before the Princess, dropping at her feet the portrait.\n\n_See page 173_]\n\nThey went to the palace, and, when the portrait was shown, the bird\nbecame as large as an elephant, and exclaimed, 'Sit on my back, O\nTa-Khai, and I will carry you to the place of your dream. There you will\nfind her of the transparent face with the drooping eyelids under the\ncrown of dark hair such as you have depicted, for these are the features\nof Sai-Jen, the daughter of the King of China, and alone can be likened\nto the full moon rising under a black cloud.'\n\nAt nightfall they were flying over the palace of the king just above a\nmagnificent garden. And in the garden sat Sai-Jen, singing and playing\nupon the lute. The _Feng-Hwang_ deposited the prince outside the wall\nnear a place where bamboos were growing and showed him how to cut twelve\nbamboos between the knots to make the flute which is called Pai-Siao and\nhas a sound sweeter than the evening breeze on the forest stream.\n\nAnd as he blew gently across the pipes, they echoed the sound of the\nprincess's voice so harmoniously that she cried:\n\n'I hear the distant notes of the song that comes from my own lips, and I\ncan see nothing but the flowers and the trees; it is the melody the\nheart alone can sing that has suffered sorrow on sorrow, and to which\nalone the heart can listen that is full of longing.'\n\nAt that moment the wonderful bird, like a fire of many colours come down\nfrom heaven, alighted before the princess, dropping at her feet the\nportrait. She opened her eyes in utter astonishment at the sight of her\nown image. And when she had read the lines inscribed in the corner, she\nasked, trembling:\n\n'Tell me, O _Feng-Hwang_, who is he, so near, but whom I cannot see,\nthat knows the sound of my voice and has never heard me, and can\nremember my face and has never seen me?'\n\nThen the bird spoke and told her the story of Ta-Khai's dream, adding:\n\n'I come from him with this message; I brought him here on my wings. For\nmany days he has longed for this hour, let him now behold the image of\nhis dream and heal the wound in his heart.'\n\nSwift and overpowering is the rush of the waves on the pebbles of the\nshore, and like a little pebble felt Sai-Jen when Ta-Khai stood before\nher....\n\nThe _Feng-Hwang_ illuminated the garden sumptuously, and a breath of\nlove was stirring the flowers under the stars.\n\nIt was in the palace of the King of China that were celebrated in the\nmost ancient and magnificent style the nuptials of Sai-Jen and Ta-Khai,\nPrince of Tartary.\n\nAnd this is one of the three hundred and thirty-three stories about the\nbird _Feng_ as it is told in the Book of the Ten Thousand Wonders.","title":"Edmund Dulac's Fairy-Book: Fairy Tales of the Allied Nations","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":58781}