{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_33571/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_33571","id":"gutenberg_33571","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/33571","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Short Stories","Fairy tales"],"text":"Produced by David Edwards, Ross Cooling and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Canada Team at\nhttp://www.pgdpcanada.net (This file was produced from\nimages generously made available by The Internet\nArchive/American Libraries.)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n THE GREEN FAIRY BOOK\n\n\n\n\n THE FAIRY BOOK SERIES.\n\n EDITED BY ANDREW LANG.\n\n _Crown 8vo. gilt edges, 6s. each._\n\nTHE BLUE FAIRY BOOK. With 138 Illustrations.\n\nTHE RED FAIRY BOOK. With 100 Illustrations.\n\nTHE GREEN FAIRY BOOK. With 101 Illustrations.\n\nTHE GREY FAIRY BOOK. With 65 Illustrations.\n\nTHE YELLOW FAIRY BOOK. With 104 Illustrations.\n\nTHE PINK FAIRY BOOK. With 67 Illustrations.\n\nTHE VIOLET FAIRY BOOK. With 8 Coloured Plates and 54 other Illustrations.\n\nTHE CRIMSON FAIRY BOOK. With 8 Coloured Plates and 43 other Illustrations.\n\nTHE BROWN FAIRY BOOK. With 8 Coloured Plates and 42 other Illustrations.\n\nTHE BLUE POETRY BOOK. With 100 Illustrations.\n\nTHE TRUE STORY BOOK. With 66 Illustrations.\n\nTHE RED TRUE STORY BOOK. With 100 Illustrations.\n\nTHE ANIMAL STORY BOOK. With 67 Illustrations.\n\nTHE RED BOOK OF ANIMAL STORIES. With 65 Illustrations.\n\nTHE ARABIAN NIGHTS ENTERTAINMENTS. With 66 Illustrations.\n\nTHE BOOK OF ROMANCE. With 8 Coloured Plates, and 44 other Illustrations.\n\nTHE RED ROMANCE BOOK. With 8 Coloured Plates and 44 other Illustrations.\n\n LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO., 39 Paternoster Row, London;\n New York and Bombay.\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: GORGONZOLA FLIES OFF ON HER DRAGON]\n\n\n\n\n THE\n\n GREEN FAIRY BOOK\n\n EDITED BY\n\n ANDREW LANG\n\n[Illustration]\n\n _WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS BY H. J. FORD_\n\n SEVENTH IMPRESSION\n\n LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.\n 89 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON\n NEW YORK AND BOMBAY\n 1906\n\n _All rights reserved_\n\n\n\n\n _TO\n STELLA MARGARET ALLEYNE\n THE\n GREEN FAIRY BOOK\n IS DEDICATED_\n\n\n\n\n _TO THE FRIENDLY READER_\n\n\nThis is the third, and probably the last, of the Fairy Books of many\ncolours. First there was the _Blue Fairy Book_; then, children, you\nasked for more, and we made up the _Red Fairy Book_; and, when you\nwanted more still, the _Green Fairy Book_ was put together. The stories\nin all the books are borrowed from many countries; some are French, some\nGerman, some Russian, some Italian, some Scottish, some English, one\nChinese. However much these nations differ about trifles, they all agree\nin liking fairy tales. The reason, no doubt, is that men were much like\nchildren in their minds long ago, long, long ago, and so before they\ntook to writing newspapers, and sermons, and novels, and long poems,\nthey told each other stories, such as you read in the fairy books. They\nbelieved that witches could turn people into beasts, that beasts could\nspeak, that magic rings could make their owners invisible, and all the\nother wonders in the stories. Then, as the world became grown-up, the\nfairy tales which were not written down would have been quite forgotten\nbut that the old grannies remembered them, and told them to the little\ngrandchildren: and when they, in their turn, became grannies, they\nremembered them, and told them also. In this way these tales are older\nthan reading and writing, far older than printing. The oldest fairy\ntales ever written down were written down in Egypt, about Joseph's time,\nnearly three thousand five hundred years ago. Other fairy stories Homer\nknew, in Greece, nearly three thousand years ago, and he made them all\nup into a poem, the _Odyssey_, which I hope you will read some day. Here\nyou will find the witch who turns men into swine, and the man who bores\nout the big foolish giant's eye, and the cap of darkness, and the shoes\nof swiftness, that were worn later by Jack the Giant-Killer. These fairy\ntales are the oldest stories in the world, and as they were first made\nby men who were childlike for their own amusement, so they amuse\nchildren still, and also grown-up people who have not forgotten how they\nonce were children.\n\nSome of the stories were made, no doubt, not only to amuse, but to teach\ngoodness. You see, in the tales, how the boy who is kind to beasts, and\npolite, and generous, and brave, always comes best through his trials,\nand no doubt these tales were meant to make their hearers kind,\nunselfish, courteous, and courageous. This is the moral of them. But,\nafter all, we think more as we read them of the diversion than of the\nlesson. There are grown-up people now who say that the stories are not\ngood for children, because they are not true, because there are no\nwitches, nor talking beasts, and because people are killed in them,\nespecially wicked giants. But probably you who read the tales know very\nwell how much is true and how much is only make-believe, and I never yet\nheard of a child who killed a very tall man merely because Jack killed\nthe giants, or who was unkind to his stepmother, if he had one, because,\nin fairy tales, the stepmother is often disagreeable. If there are\nfrightful monsters in fairy tales, they do not frighten you now, because\nthat kind of monster is no longer going about the world, whatever he may\nhave done long, long ago. He has been turned into stone, and you may see\nhis remains in museums. Therefore, I am not afraid that you will be\nafraid of the magicians and dragons; besides, you see that a really\nbrave boy or girl was always their master, even in the height of their\npower.\n\nSome of the tales here, like _The Half-Chick_, are for very little\nchildren; others for older ones. The longest tales, like _Heart of Ice_,\nwere not invented when the others were, but were written in French, by\nclever men and women, such as Madame d'Aulnoy, and the Count de Caylus,\nabout two hundred years ago. There are not many people now, perhaps\nthere are none, who can write really good fairy tales, because they do\nnot believe enough in their own stories, and because they want to be\nwittier than it has pleased Heaven to make them.\n\nSo here we give you the last of the old stories, for the present, and\nhope you will like them, and feel grateful to the Brothers Grimm, who\ntook them down from the telling of old women, and to M. Sebillot and M.\nCharles Marelles, who have lent us some tales from their own French\npeople, and to Mr. Ford, who drew the pictures, and to the ladies, Miss\nBlackley, Miss Alma Alleyne, Miss Eleanor Sellar, Miss May Sellar, Miss\nWright, and Mrs. Lang, who translated many of the tales out of French,\nGerman, and other languages.\n\nIf we have a book for you next year, it shall not be a fairy book. What\nit is to be is a secret, but we hope that it will not be dull. So\ngood-bye, and when you have read a fairy book, lend it to other children\nwho have none, or tell them the stories in your own way, which is a very\npleasant mode of passing the time.\n\n\n\n\n _CONTENTS_\n\n PAGE\n _The Blue Bird_ 1\n\n _The Half-Chick_ 27\n\n _The Story of Caliph Stork_ 32\n\n _The Enchanted Watch_ 43\n\n _Rosanella_ 48\n\n _Sylvain and Jocosa_ 56\n\n _Fairy Gifts_ 64\n\n _Prince Narcissus and the Princess Potentilla_ 68\n\n _Prince Featherhead and the Princess Celandine_ 85\n\n _The Three Little Pigs_ 100\n\n _Heart of Ice_ 106\n\n _The Enchanted Ring_ 137\n\n _The Snuff-box_ 145\n\n _The Golden Blackbird_ 151\n\n _The Little Soldier_ 157\n\n _The Magic Swan_ 175\n\n _The Dirty Shepherdess_ 180\n\n _The Enchanted Snake_ 186\n\n _The Biter Bit_ 194\n\n _King Kojata_ 202\n\n _Prince Fickle and Fair Helena_ 216\n\n _Puddocky_ 222\n\n _The Story of Hok Lee and the Dwarfs_ 229\n\n _The Story of the Three Bears_ 234\n\n _Prince Vivien and the Princess Placida_ 238\n\n _Little One-eye, Little Two-eyes, and Little Three-eyes_ 262\n\n _Jorinde and Joringel_ 271\n\n _Allerleirauh; or, the Many-furred Creature_ 276\n\n _The Twelve Huntsmen_ 282\n\n _Spindle, Shuttle, and Needle_ 286\n\n _The Crystal Coffin_ 290\n\n _The Three Snake-leaves_ 296\n\n _The Riddle_ 300\n\n _Jack my Hedgehog_ 304\n\n _The Golden Lads_ 311\n\n _The White Snake_ 319\n\n _The Story of a Clever Tailor_ 324\n\n _The Golden Mermaid_ 328\n\n _The War of the Wolf and the Fox_ 339\n\n _The Story of the Fisherman and his Wife_ 343\n\n _The Three Musicians_ 353\n\n _The Three Dogs_ 360\n\n\n\n\n _THE BLUE BIRD_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a King who was immensely rich. He had broad\nlands, and sacks overflowing with gold and silver; but he did not care a\nbit for all his riches, because the Queen, his wife, was dead. He shut\nhimself up in a little room and knocked his head against the walls for\ngrief, until his courtiers were really afraid that he would hurt\nhimself. So they hung feather-beds between the tapestry and the walls,\nand then he could go on knocking his head as long as it was any\nconsolation to him without coming to much harm. All his subjects came to\nsee him, and said whatever they thought would comfort him: some were\ngrave, even gloomy with him; and some agreeable, even gay; but not one\ncould make the least impression upon him. Indeed, he hardly seemed to\nhear what they said. At last came a lady who was wrapped in a black\nmantle, and seemed to be in the deepest grief. She wept and sobbed until\neven the King's attention was attracted; and when she said that, far\nfrom coming to try and diminish his grief, she, who had just lost a good\nhusband, was come to add her tears to his, since she knew what he must\nbe feeling, the King redoubled his lamentations. Then he told the\nsorrowful lady long stories about the good qualities of his departed\nQueen, and she in her turn recounted all the virtues of her departed\nhusband; and this passed the time so agreeably that the King quite\nforgot to thump his head against the feather-beds, and the lady did not\nneed to wipe the tears from her great blue eyes as often as before. By\ndegrees they came to talking about other things in which the King took\nan interest, and in a wonderfully short time the whole kingdom was\nastonished by the news that the King was married again--to the sorrowful\nlady.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nNow the King had one daughter, who was just fifteen years old. Her name\nwas Fiordelisa, and she was the prettiest and most charming Princess\nimaginable, always gay end merry. The new Queen, who also had a\ndaughter, very soon sent for her to come to the Palace. Turritella, for\nthat was her name, had been brought up by her godmother, the Fairy\nMazilla, but in spite of all the care bestowed upon her, she was\nneither beautiful nor gracious. Indeed, when the Queen saw how\nill-tempered and ugly she appeared beside Fiordelisa she was in despair,\nand did everything in her power to turn the King against his own\ndaughter, in the hope that he might take a fancy to Turritella. One day\nthe King said that it was time Fiordelisa and Turritella were married,\nso he would give one of them to the first suitable Prince who visited\nhis Court. The Queen answered:\n\n'My daughter certainly ought to be the first to be married; she is older\nthan yours, and a thousand times more charming!'\n\nThe King, who hated disputes, said, 'Very well, it's no affair of mine,\nsettle it your own way.'\n\nVery soon after came the news that King Charming, who was the most\nhandsome and magnificent Prince in all the country round, was on his way\nto visit the King. As soon as the Queen heard this, she set all her\njewellers, tailors, weavers, and embroiderers to work upon splendid\ndresses and ornaments for Turritella, but she told the King that\nFiordelisa had no need of anything new, and the night before the King\nwas to arrive, she bribed her waiting woman to steal away all the\nPrincess's own dresses and jewels, so that when the day came, and\nFiordelisa wished to adorn herself as became her high rank, not even a\nribbon could she find.\n\nHowever, as she easily guessed who had played her such a trick, she made\nno complaint, but sent to the merchants for some rich stuffs. But they\nsaid that the Queen had expressly forbidden them to supply her with any,\nand they dared not disobey. So the Princess had nothing left to put on\nbut the little white frock she had been wearing the clay before; and\ndressed in that, she went down when the time of the King's arrival came,\nand sat in a corner hoping to escape notice. The Queen received her\nguest with great ceremony, and presented him to her daughter, who was\ngorgeously attired, but so much splendour only made her ugliness more\nnoticeable, and the King, after one glance at her, looked the other way.\nThe Queen, however, only thought that he was bashful, and took pains to\nkeep Turritella in full view. King Charming then asked if there was not\nanother Princess, called Fiordelisa.\n\n'Yes,' said Turritella, pointing with her finger, 'there she is, trying\nto keep out of sight because she is not smart.'\n\nAt this Fiordelisa blushed, and looked so shy and so lovely, that the\nKing was fairly astonished. He rose, and bowing low before her, said--\n\n'Madam, your incomparable beauty needs no adornment.'\n\n'Sire,' answered the Princess, 'I assure you that I am not in the habit\nof wearing dresses as crumpled and untidy as this one, so I should have\nbeen better pleased if you had not seen me at all.'\n\n'Impossible!' cried King Charming. 'Wherever such a marvellously\nbeautiful Princess appears I can look at nothing else.'\n\nHere the Queen broke in, saying sharply--\n\n[Illustration]\n\n'I assure you, Sire, that Fiordelisa is vain enough already. Pray make\nher no more flattering speeches.'\n\nThe King quite understood that she was not pleased, but that did not\nmatter to him, so he admired Fiordelisa to his heart's content, and\ntalked to her for three hours without stopping.\n\nThe Queen was in despair, and so was Turritella, when they saw how much\nthe King preferred Fiordelisa. They complained bitterly to the King, and\nbegged and teased him, until he at last consented to have the Princess\nshut up somewhere out of sight while King Charming's visit lasted. So\nthat night, as she went to her room, she was seized by four masked\nfigures, and carried up into the topmost room of a high tower, where\nthey left her in the deepest dejection. She easily guessed that she was\nto be kept out of sight for fear the King should fall in love with her;\nbut then, how disappointing that was, for she already liked him very\nmuch, and would have been quite willing to be chosen for his bride! As\nKing Charming did not know what had happened to the Princess, he looked\nforward impatiently to meeting her again, and he tried to talk about her\nwith the courtiers who were placed in attendance on him. But by the\nQueen's orders they would say nothing good of her, but declared that she\nwas vain, capricious, and bad-tempered; that she tormented her\nwaiting-maids, and that, in spite of all the money that the King gave\nher, she was so mean that she preferred to go about dressed like a poor\nshepherdess, rather than spend any of it. All these things vexed the\nKing very much, and he was silent.\n\n'It is true,' thought he, 'that she was very poorly dressed, but then\nshe was so ashamed that it proves that she was not accustomed to be so.\nI cannot believe that with that lovely face she can be as ill-tempered\nand contemptible as they say. No, no, the Queen must be jealous of her\nfor the sake of that ugly daughter of hers, and so these evil reports\nare spread.'\n\nThe courtiers could not help seeing that what they had told the King did\nnot please him, and one of them cunningly began to praise Fiordelisa,\nwhen he could talk to the King without being heard by the others.\n\nKing Charming thereupon became so cheerful, and interested in all he\nsaid, that it was easy to guess how much he admired the Princess. So\nwhen the Queen sent for the courtiers and questioned them about all they\nhad found out, their report confirmed her worst fears. As to the poor\nPrincess Fiordelisa, she cried all night without stopping.\n\n'It would have been quite bad enough to be shut up in this gloomy tower\nbefore I had ever seen King Charming,' she said; 'but now when he is\nhere, and they are all enjoying themselves with him, it is too unkind.'\n\nThe next day the Queen sent King Charming splendid presents of jewels\nand rich stuffs, and among other things an ornament made expressly in\nhonour of the approaching wedding. It was a heart cut out of one huge\nruby, and was surrounded by several diamond arrows, and pierced by one.\nA golden true-lover's knot above the heart bore the motto, 'But one can\nwound me,' and the whole jewel was hung upon a chain of immense pearls.\nNever, since the world has been a world, had such a thing been made, and\nthe King was quite amazed when it was presented to him. The page who\nbrought it begged him to accept it from the Princess, who chose him to\nbe her knight.\n\n'What!' cried he, 'does the lovely Princess Fiordelisa deign to think of\nme in this amiable and encouraging way?'\n\n'You confuse the names, Sire,' said the page hastily. 'I come on behalf\nof the Princess Turritella.'\n\n'Oh, it is Turritella who wishes me to be her knight,' said the King\ncoldly. 'I am sorry that I cannot accept the honour.' And he sent the\nsplendid gifts back to the Queen and Turritella, who were furiously\nangry at the contempt with which they were treated. As soon as he\npossibly could, King Charming went to see the King and Queen, and as he\nentered the hall he looked for Fiordelisa, and every time anyone came in\nhe started round to see who it was, and was altogether so uneasy and\ndissatisfied that the Queen saw it plainly. But she would not take any\nnotice, and talked of nothing but the entertainments she was planning.\nThe Prince answered at random, and presently asked if he was not to have\nthe pleasure of seeing the Princess Fiordelisa.\n\n'Sire,' answered the Queen haughtily, 'her father has ordered that she\nshall not leave her own apartments until my daughter is married.'\n\n'What can be the reason for keeping that lovely Princess a prisoner?'\ncried the King in great indignation.\n\n'That I do not know,' answered the Queen; 'and even if I did, I might\nnot feel bound to tell you.'\n\nThe King was terribly angry at being thwarted like this. He felt certain\nthat Turritella was to blame for it, so casting a furious glance at her\nhe abruptly took leave of the Queen, and returned to his own apartments.\nThere he said to a young squire whom he had brought with him: 'I would\ngive all I have in the world to gain the good will of one of the\nPrincess's waiting-women, and obtain a moment's speech with Fiordelisa.'\n\n'Nothing could be easier,' said the young squire; and he very soon made\nfriends with one of the ladies, who told him that in the evening\nFiordelisa would be at a little window which looked into the garden,\nwhere he could come and talk to her. Only, she said, he must take very\ngreat care not to be seen, as it would be as much as her place was worth\nto be caught helping King Charming to see the Princess. The squire was\ndelighted, and promised all she asked; but the moment he had run off to\nannounce his success to the King, the false waiting-woman went and told\nthe Queen all that had passed. She at once determined that her own\ndaughter should be at the little window; and she taught her so well all\nshe was to say and do, that even the stupid Turritella could make no\nmistake.\n\nThe night was so dark that the King had not a chance of finding out the\ntrick that was being played upon him, so he approached the window with\nthe greatest delight, and said everything that he had been longing to\nsay to Fiordelisa to persuade her of his love for her. Turritella\nanswered as she had been taught, that she was very unhappy, and that\nthere was no chance of her being better treated by the Queen until her\ndaughter was married. And then the King entreated her to marry him; and\nthereupon he drew his ring from his finger and put it upon Turritella's,\nand she answered him as well as she could. The King could not help\nthinking that she did not say exactly what he would have expected from\nhis darling Fiordelisa, but he persuaded himself that the fear of being\nsurprised by the Queen was making her awkward and unnatural. He would\nnot leave her until she had promised to see him again the next night,\nwhich Turritella did willingly enough. The Queen was overjoyed at the\nsuccess of her stratagem, and promised herself that all would now be as\nshe wished; and sure enough, as soon as it was dark the following night\nthe King came, bringing with him a chariot which had been given him by\nan Enchanter who was his friend. This chariot was drawn by flying frogs,\nand the King easily persuaded Turritella to come out and let him put her\ninto it, then mounting beside her he cried triumphantly--\n\n'Now, my Princess, you are free; where will it please you that we shall\nhold our wedding?'\n\nAnd Turritella, with her head muffled in her mantle, answered that the\nFairy Mazilla was her godmother, and that she would like it to be at her\ncastle. So the King told the Frogs, who had the map of the whole world\nin their heads, and very soon he and Turritella were set down at the\ncastle of the Fairy Mazilla. The King would certainly have found out his\nmistake the moment they stepped into the brilliantly lighted castle, but\nTurritella held her mantle more closely round her, and asked to see the\nFairy by herself, and quickly told her all that had happened, and how\nshe had succeeded in deceiving King Charming.\n\n'Oho! my daughter,' said the Fairy, 'I see we have no easy task before\nus. He loves Fiordelisa so much that he will not be easily pacified. I\nfeel sure he will defy us!' Meanwhile the King was waiting in a splendid\nroom with diamond walls, so clear that he could see the Fairy and\nTurritella as they stood whispering together, and he was very much\npuzzled.\n\n'Who can have betrayed us?' he said to himself. 'How comes our enemy\nhere? She must be plotting to prevent our marriage. Why doesn't my\nlovely Fiordelisa make haste and come back to me?'\n\nBut it was worse than anything he had imagined when the Fairy Mazilla\nentered, leading Turritella by the hand, and said to him--\n\n'King Charming, here is the Princess Turritella to whom you have\nplighted your faith. Let us have the wedding at once.'\n\n'I!' cried the King. 'I marry that little creature! What do you take me\nfor? I have promised her nothing!'\n\n'Say no more. Have you no respect for a Fairy?' cried she angrily.\n\n'Yes, madam,' answered the King, 'I am prepared to respect you as much\nas a Fairy can be respected, if you will give me back my Princess.'\n\n'Am I not here?' interrupted Turritella. 'Here is the ring you gave me.\nWith whom did you talk at the little window, if it was not with me?'\n\n'What!' cried the King angrily, 'have I been altogether deceived and\ndeluded? Where is my chariot? Not another moment will I stay here.'\n\n'Oho,' said the Fairy, 'not so fast.' And she touched his feet, which\ninstantly became as firmly fixed to the floor as if they had been nailed\nthere.\n\n'Oh! do whatever you like with me,' said the King; 'you may turn me to\nstone, but I will marry no one but Fiordelisa.'\n\nAnd not another word would he say, though the Fairy scolded and\nthreatened, and Turritella wept and raged for twenty days and twenty\nnights. At last the Fairy Mazilla said furiously (for she was quite\ntired out by his obstinacy), 'Choose whether you will marry my\ngoddaughter, or do penance seven years for breaking your word to her.'\n\nAnd then the King cried gaily: 'Pray do whatever you like with me, as\nlong as you deliver me from this ugly scold!'\n\n'Scold!' cried Turritella angrily. 'Who are you, I should like to know,\nthat you dare to call me a scold? A miserable King who breaks his word,\nand goes about in a chariot drawn by croaking frogs out of a marsh!'\n\n'Let us have no more of these insults,' cried the Fairy. 'Fly from that\nwindow, ungrateful King, and for seven years be a Blue Bird.' As she\nspoke the King's face altered, his arms turned to wings, his feet to\nlittle crooked black claws. In a moment he had a slender body like a\nbird, covered with shining blue feathers, his beak was like ivory, his\neyes were bright as stars, and a crown of white feathers adorned his\nhead.\n\nAs soon as the transformation was complete the King uttered a dolorous\ncry and fled through the open window, pursued by the mocking laughter of\nTurritella and the Fairy Mazilla. He flew on until he reached the\nthickest part of the wood, and there, perched upon a cypress tree, he\nbewailed his miserable fate. 'Alas! in seven years who knows what may\nhappen to my darling Fiordelisa!' he said. 'Her cruel stepmother may\nhave married her to someone else before I am myself again, and then what\ngood will life be to me?'\n\nIn the meantime the Fairy Mazilla had sent Turritella back to the Queen,\nwho was all anxiety to know how the wedding had gone off. But when her\ndaughter arrived and told her all that had happened she was terribly\nangry, and of course all her wrath fell upon Fiordelisa. 'She shall have\ncause to repent that the King admires her,' said the Queen, nodding her\nhead meaningly, and then she and Turritella went up to the little room\nin the tower where the Princess was imprisoned. Fiordelisa was immensely\nsurprised to see that Turritella was wearing a royal mantle and a\ndiamond crown, and her heart sank when the Queen said: 'My daughter is\ncome to show you some of her wedding presents, for she is King\nCharming's bride, and they are the happiest pair in the world, he loves\nher to distraction.' All this time Turritella was spreading out lace,\nand jewels, and rich brocades, and ribbons before Fiordelisa's unwilling\neyes, and taking good care to display King Charming's ring, which she\nwore upon her thumb. The Princess recognised it as soon as her eyes fell\nupon it, and after that she could no longer doubt that he had indeed\nmarried Turritella. In despair she cried, 'Take away these miserable\ngauds! what pleasure has a wretched captive in the sight of them?' and\nthen she fell insensible upon the floor, and the cruel Queen laughed\nmaliciously, and went away with Turritella, leaving her there without\ncomfort or aid. That night the Queen said to the King, that his daughter\nwas so infatuated with King Charming, in spite of his never having shown\nany preference for her, that it was just as well she should stay in the\ntower until she came to her senses. To which he answered that it was her\naffair, and she could give what orders she pleased about the Princess.\n\nWhen the unhappy Fiordelisa recovered, and remembered all she had just\nheard, she began to cry bitterly, believing that King Charming was lost\nto her for ever, and all night long she sat at her open window sighing\nand lamenting; but when it was dawn she crept away into the darkest\ncorner of her little room and sat there, too unhappy to care about\nanything. As soon as night came again she once more leaned out into the\ndarkness and bewailed her miserable lot.\n\nNow it happened that King Charming, or rather the Blue Bird, had been\nflying round the palace in the hope of seeing his beloved Princess, but\nhad not dared to go too near the windows for fear of being seen and\nrecognised by Turritella. When night fell he had not succeeded in\ndiscovering where Fiordelisa was imprisoned, and, weary and sad, he\nperched upon a branch of a tall fir tree which grew close to the tower,\nand began to sing himself to sleep. But soon the sound of a soft voice\nlamenting attracted his attention, and listening intently he heard it\nsay--\n\n'Ah! cruel Queen! what have I ever done to be imprisoned like this? And\nwas I not unhappy enough before, that you must needs come and taunt me\nwith the happiness your daughter is enjoying now she is King Charming's\nbride?'\n\nThe Blue Bird, greatly surprised, waited impatiently for the dawn, and\nthe moment it was light flew off to see who it could have been who spoke\nthus. But he found the window shut, and could see no one. The next\nnight, however, he was on the watch, and by the clear moonlight he saw\nthat the sorrowful lady at the window was Fiordelisa herself.\n\n'My Princess! have I found you at last?' said he, alighting close to\nher.\n\n'Who is speaking to me?' cried the Princess in great surprise.\n\n'Only a moment since you mentioned my name, and now you do not know me,\nFiordelisa,' said he sadly. 'But no wonder, since I am nothing but a\nBlue Bird, and must remain one for seven years.'\n\n'What! Little Blue Bird, are you really the powerful King Charming?'\nsaid the Princess, caressing him.\n\n'It is too true,' he answered. 'For being faithful to you I am thus\npunished. But believe me, if it were for twice as long I would bear it\njoyfully rather than give you up.'\n\n'Oh! what are you telling me?' cried the Princess. 'Has not your bride,\nTurritella, just visited me, wearing the royal mantle and the diamond\ncrown you gave her? I cannot be mistaken, for I saw your ring upon her\nthumb.'\n\nThen the Blue Bird was furiously angry, and told the Princess all that\nhad happened, how he had been deceived into carrying off Turritella, and\nhow, for refusing to marry her, the Fairy Mazilla had condemned him to\nbe a Blue Bird for seven years.\n\nThe Princess was very happy when she heard how faithful her lover was,\nand would never have tired of hearing his loving speeches and\nexplanations, but too soon the sun rose, and they had to part lest the\nBlue Bird should be discovered. After promising to come again to the\nPrincess's window as soon as it was dark, he flew away, and hid himself\nin a little hole in the fir-tree, while Fiordelisa remained devoured by\nanxiety lest he should be caught in a trap, or eaten up by an eagle.\n\nBut the Blue Bird did not long stay in his hiding-place. He flew away,\nand away, until he came to his own palace, and got into it through a\nbroken window, and there he found the cabinet where his jewels were\nkept, and chose out a splendid diamond ring as a present for the\nPrincess. By the time he got back, Fiordelisa was sitting waiting for\nhim by the open window, and when he gave her the ring, she scolded him\ngently for having run such a risk to get it for her.\n\n'Promise me that you will wear it always!' said the Blue Bird. And the\nPrincess promised on condition that he should come and see her in the\nday as well as by night. They talked all night long, and the next\nmorning the Blue Bird flew off to his kingdom, and crept into his palace\nthrough the broken window, and chose from his treasures two bracelets,\neach cut out of a single emerald. When he presented them to the\nPrincess, she shook her head at him reproachfully, saying--\n\n'Do you think I love you so little that I need all these gifts to remind\nme of you?'\n\nAnd he answered--\n\n'No, my Princess; but I love you so much that I feel I cannot express\nit, try as I may. I only bring you these worthless trifles to show that\nI have not ceased to think of you, though I have been obliged to leave\nyou for a time.' The following night he gave Fiordelisa a watch set in a\nsingle pearl. The Princess laughed a little when she saw it, and said--\n\n[Illustration]\n\n'You may well give me a watch, for since I have known you I have lost\nthe power of measuring time. The hours you spend with me pass like\nminutes, and the hours that I drag through without you seem years to\nme.'\n\n'Ah, Princess, they cannot seem so long to you as they do to me!' he\nanswered. Day by day he brought more beautiful things for the\nPrincess--diamonds, and rubies, and opals; and at night she decked\nherself with them to please him, but by day she hid them in her straw\nmattress. When the sun shone the Blue Bird, hidden in the tall fir-tree,\nsang to her so sweetly that all the passers-by wondered, and said that\nthe wood was inhabited by a spirit. And so two years slipped away, and\nstill the Princess was a prisoner, and Turritella was not married. The\nQueen had offered her hand to all the neighbouring Princes, but they\nalways answered that they would marry Fiordelisa with pleasure, but not\nTurritella on any account. This displeased the Queen terribly.\n'Fiordelisa must be in league with them, to annoy me!' she said. 'Let us\ngo and accuse her of it.'\n\nSo she and Turritella went up into the tower. Now it happened that it\nwas nearly midnight, and Fiordelisa, all decked with jewels, was sitting\nat the window with the Blue Bird, and as the Queen paused outside the\ndoor to listen she heard the Princess and her lover singing together a\nlittle song he had just taught her. These were the words:--\n\n 'Oh! what a luckless pair are we,\n One in a prison, and one in a tree.\n All our trouble and anguish came\n From our faithfulness spoiling our enemies' game.\n But vainly they practise their cruel arts,\n For nought can sever our two fond hearts.'\n\nThey sound melancholy perhaps, but the two voices sang them gaily\nenough, and the Queen burst open the door, crying, 'Ah! my Turritella,\nthere is some treachery going on here!'\n\nAs soon as she saw her, Fiordelisa, with great presence of mind, hastily\nshut her little window, that the Blue Bird might have time to escape,\nand then turned to meet the Queen, who overwhelmed her with a torrent of\nreproaches.\n\n'Your intrigues are discovered, Madam,' she said furiously; 'and you\nneed not hope that your high rank will save you from the punishment you\ndeserve.'\n\n'And with whom do you accuse me of intriguing, Madam?' said the\nPrincess. 'Have I not been your prisoner these two years, and who have I\nseen except the gaolers sent by you?'\n\nWhile she spoke the Queen and Turritella were looking at her in the\ngreatest surprise, perfectly dazzled by her beauty and the splendour of\nher jewels, and the Queen said:\n\n'If one may ask, Madam, where did you get all these diamonds? Perhaps\nyou mean to tell me that you have discovered a mine of them in the\ntower!'\n\n'I certainly did find them here,' answered the Princess.\n\n'And pray,' said the Queen, her wrath increasing every moment, 'for\nwhose admiration are you decked out like this, since I have often seen\nyou not half as fine on the most important occasions at Court?'\n\n'For my own,' answered Fiordelisa. 'You must admit that I have had\nplenty of time on my hands, so you cannot be surprised at my spending\nsome of it in making myself smart.'\n\n'That's all very fine,' said the Queen suspiciously. 'I think I will\nlook about, and see for myself.'\n\nSo she and Turritella began to search every corner of the little room,\nand when they came to the straw mattress out fell such a quantity of\npearls, diamonds, rubies, opals, emeralds, and sapphires, that they were\namazed, and could not tell what to think. But the Queen resolved to hide\nsomewhere a packet of false letters to prove that the Princess had been\nconspiring with the King's enemies, and she chose the chimney as a good\nplace. Fortunately for Fiordelisa this was exactly where the Blue Bird\nhad perched himself, to keep an eye upon her proceedings, and try to\navert danger from his beloved Princess, and now he cried:\n\n'Beware, Fiordelisa! Your false enemy is plotting against you.'\n\nThis strange voice so frightened the Queen that she took the letter and\nwent away hastily with Turritella, and they held a council to try and\ndevise some means of finding out what Fairy or Enchanter was favouring\nthe Princess. At last they sent one of the Queen's maids to wait upon\nFiordelisa, and told her to pretend to be quite stupid, and to see and\nhear nothing, while she was really to watch the Princess day and night,\nand keep the Queen informed of all her doings.\n\nPoor Fiordelisa, who guessed she was sent as a spy, was in despair, and\ncried bitterly that she dared not see her dear Blue Bird for fear that\nsome evil might happen to him if he were discovered.\n\nThe days were so long, and the nights so dull, but for a whole month she\nnever went near her little window, lest he should fly to her as he used\nto do.\n\nHowever, at last the spy, who had never taken her eyes off the Princess\nday or night, was so overcome with weariness that she fell into a deep\nsleep, and as soon as the Princess saw that, she flew to open her window\nand cried softly:\n\n 'Blue Bird, blue as the sky,\n Fly to me now, there's nobody by.'\n\nAnd the Blue Bird, who had never ceased to flutter round within sight\nand hearing of her prison, came in an instant. They had so much to say,\nand were so overjoyed to meet once more, that it scarcely seemed to them\nfive minutes before the sun rose, and the Blue Bird had to fly away.\n\nBut the next night the spy slept as soundly as before, so that the Blue\nBird came, and he and the Princess began to think they were perfectly\nsafe, and to make all sorts of plans for being happy as they were before\nthe Queen's visit. But, alas! the third night the spy was not quite so\nsleepy, and when the Princess opened her window and cried as usual:\n\n 'Blue Bird, blue as the sky,\n Fly to me now, there's nobody nigh,'\n\nshe was wide awake in a moment, though she was sly enough to keep her\neyes shut at first. But presently she heard voices, and peeping\ncautiously, she saw by the moonlight the most lovely blue bird in the\nworld, who was talking to the Princess, while she stroked and caressed\nit fondly.\n\nThe spy did not lose a single word of the conversation, and as soon as\nthe day dawned, and the Blue Bird had reluctantly said good-bye to the\nPrincess, she rushed off to the Queen, and told her all she had seen and\nheard.\n\nThen the Queen sent for Turritella, and they talked it over, and very\nsoon came to the conclusion than this Blue Bird was no other than King\nCharming himself.\n\n'Ah! that insolent Princess!' cried the Queen. 'To think that when we\nsupposed her to be so miserable, she was all the while as happy as\npossible with that false King. But I know how we can avenge ourselves!'\n\nSo the spy was ordered to go back and pretend to sleep as soundly as\never, and indeed she went to bed earlier than usual, and snored as\nnaturally as possible, and the poor Princess ran to the window and\ncried:\n\n 'Blue Bird, blue as the sky,\n Fly to me now, there's nobody by!'\n\nBut no bird came. All night long she called, and waited, and listened,\nbut still there was no answer, for the cruel Queen had caused the fir\ntree to be hung all over with knives, swords, razors, shears,\nbill-hooks, and sickles, so that when the Blue Bird heard the Princess\ncall, and flew towards her, his wings were cut, and his little black\nfeet clipped off, and all pierced and stabbed in twenty places, he fell\nback bleeding into his hiding place in the tree, and lay there groaning\nand despairing, for he thought the Princess must have been persuaded to\nbetray him, to regain her liberty.\n\n'Ah! Fiordelisa, can you indeed be so lovely and so faithless?' he\nsighed, 'then I may as well die at once!' And he turned over on his side\nand began to die. But it happened that his friend the Enchanter had been\nvery much alarmed at seeing the Frog chariot come back to him without\nKing Charming, and had been round the world eight times seeking him, but\nwithout success. At the very moment when the King gave himself up to\ndespair, he was passing through the wood for the eighth time, and\ncalled, as he had done all over the world:\n\n'Charming! King Charming! Are you here?'\n\nThe King at once recognised his friend's voice, and answered very\nfaintly:\n\n'I am here.'\n\nThe Enchanter looked all round him, but could see nothing, and then the\nKing said again:\n\n'I am a Blue Bird.'\n\nThen the Enchanter found him in an instant, and seeing his pitiable\ncondition, ran hither and thither without a word, until he had collected\na handful of magic herbs, with which, and a few incantations, he\nspeedily made the King whole and sound again.\n\n'Now,' said he, 'let me hear all about it. There must be a Princess at\nthe bottom of this.'\n\n'There are two!' answered King Charming, with a wry smile.\n\nAnd then he told the whole story, accusing Fiordelisa of having betrayed\nthe secret of his visits to make her peace with the Queen, and indeed\nsaying a great many hard things about her fickleness and her deceitful\nbeauty, and so on. The Enchanter quite agreed with him, and even went\nfurther, declaring that all Princesses were alike, except perhaps in the\nmatter of beauty, and advised him to have done with Fiordelisa, and\nforget all about her. But, somehow or other, this advice did not quite\nplease the King.\n\n'What is to be done next?' said the Enchanter, 'since you still have\nfive years to remain a Blue Bird.'\n\n'Take me to your palace,' answered the King; 'there you can at least\nkeep me in a cage safe from cats and swords.'\n\n'Well, that will be the best thing to do for the present,' said his\nfriend. 'But I am not an Enchanter for nothing. I'm sure to have a\nbrilliant idea for you before long.'\n\n[Illustration]\n\nIn the meantime Fiordelisa, quite in despair, sat at her window day and\nnight calling her dear Blue Bird in vain, and imagining over and over\nagain all the terrible things that could have happened to him, until she\ngrew quite pale and thin. As for the Queen and Turritella, they were\ntriumphant; but their triumph was short, for the King, Fiordelisa's\nfather, fell ill and died, and all the people rebelled against the Queen\nand Turritella, and came in a body to the palace demanding Fiordelisa.\n\nThe Queen came out upon the balcony with threats and haughty\nwords, so that at last they lost their patience, and broke open the\ndoors of the palace, one of which fell back upon the Queen and\nkilled her. Turritella fled to the Fairy Mazilla, and all the nobles\nof the kingdom fetched the Princess Fiordelisa from her prison in\nthe tower, and made her Queen. Very soon, with all the care and\nattention they bestowed upon her, she recovered from the effects of\nher long captivity and looked more beautiful than ever, and was able\nto take counsel with her courtiers, and arrange for the governing of\nher kingdom during her absence. And then, taking a bagful of\njewels, she set out all alone to look for the Blue Bird, without\ntelling anyone where she was going.\n\nMeanwhile, the Enchanter was taking care of King Charming, but as his\npower was not great enough to counteract the Fairy Mazilla's, he at last\nresolved to go and see if he could make any kind of terms with her for\nhis friend; for you see, Fairies and Enchanters are cousins in a sort of\nway, after all; and after knowing one another for five or six hundred\nyears and falling out, and making it up again pretty often, they\nunderstand one another well enough. So the Fairy Mazilla received him\ngraciously. 'And what may you be wanting, Gossip?' said she.\n\n'You can do a good turn for me if you will,' he answered. 'A King, who\nis a friend of mine, was unlucky enough to offend you----'\n\n'Aha! I know who you mean,' interrupted the Fairy. 'I am sorry not to\noblige you, Gossip, but he need expect no mercy from me unless he will\nmarry my goddaughter, whom you see yonder looking so pretty and\ncharming. Let him think over what I say.'\n\nThe Enchanter hadn't a word to say, for he thought Turritella really\nfrightful, but he could not go away without making one more effort for\nhis friend the King, who was really in great danger as long as he lived\nin a cage. Indeed, already he had met with several alarming accidents.\nOnce the nail on which his cage was hung had given way, and his\nfeathered Majesty had suffered much from the fall, while Madam Puss, who\nhappened to be in the room at the time, had given him a scratch in the\neye which came very near blinding him. Another time they had forgotten\nto give him any water to drink, so that he was nearly dead with thirst;\nand the worst thing of all was that he was in danger of losing his\nkingdom, for he had been absent so long that all his subjects believed\nhim to be dead. So considering all these things the Enchanter agreed\nwith the Fairy Mazilla that she should restore the King to his natural\nform, and should take Turritella to stay in his palace for several\nmonths, and if, after the time was over, he still could not make up his\nmind to marry her, he should once more be changed into a Blue Bird.\n\nThen the Fairy dressed Turritella in a magnificent gold and silver robe,\nand they mounted together upon a flying Dragon, and very soon reached\nKing Charming's palace, where he, too, had just been brought by his\nfaithful friend the Enchanter.\n\nThree strokes of the Fairy's wand restored his natural form, and he was\nas handsome and delightful as ever, but he considered that he paid\ndearly for his restoration when he caught sight of Turritella, and the\nmere idea of marrying her made him shudder.\n\nMeanwhile, Queen Fiordelisa, disguised as a poor peasant girl, wearing a\ngreat straw hat that concealed her face, and carrying an old sack over\nher shoulder, had set out upon her weary journey, and had travelled far,\nsometimes by sea and sometimes by land; sometimes on foot, and sometimes\non horseback, but not knowing which way to go. She feared all the time\nthat every step she took was leading her farther from her lover. One day\nas she sat, quite tired and sad, on the bank of a little brook, cooling\nher white feet in the clear running water, and combing her long hair\nthat glittered like gold in the sunshine, a little bent old woman passed\nby, leaning on a stick. She stopped, and said to Fiordelisa:\n\n'What, my pretty child, are you all alone?'\n\n'Indeed, good mother, I am too sad to care for company,' she answered;\nand the tears ran down her cheeks.\n\n'Don't cry,' said the old woman, 'but tell me truly what is the matter.\nPerhaps I can help you.'\n\nThe Queen told her willingly all that had happened, and how she was\nseeking the Blue Bird. Thereupon the little old woman suddenly stood up\nstraight, and grew tall, and young, and beautiful, and said with a smile\nto the astonished Fiordelisa:\n\n'Lovely Queen, the King whom you seek is no longer a bird. My sister\nMazilla has given his own form back to him, and he is in his own\nkingdom. Do not be afraid, you will reach him, and will prosper. Take\nthese four eggs; if you break one when you are in any great difficulty,\nyou will find aid.'\n\n[Illustration]\n\nSo saying, she disappeared, and Fiordelisa, feeling much encouraged, put\nthe eggs into her bag and turned her steps towards Charming's kingdom.\nAfter walking on and on for eight days and eight nights, she came at\nlast to a tremendously high hill of polished ivory, so steep that it was\nimpossible to get a foothold upon it. Fiordelisa tried a thousand times,\nand scrambled and slipped, but always in the end found herself exactly\nwhere she started from. At last she sat down at the foot of it in\ndespair, and then suddenly bethought herself of the eggs. Breaking one\nquickly, she found in it some little gold hooks, and with these fastened\nto her feet and hands, she mounted the ivory hill without farther\ntrouble, for the little hooks saved her from slipping. As soon as she\nreached the top a new difficulty presented itself, for all the other\nside, and indeed the whole valley, was one polished mirror, in which\nthousands and thousands of people were admiring their reflections. For\nthis was a magic mirror, in which people saw themselves just as they\nwished to appear, and pilgrims came to it from the four corners of the\nworld. But nobody had ever been able to reach the top of the hill, and\nwhen they saw Fiordelisa standing there, they raised a terrible outcry,\ndeclaring that if she set foot upon their glass she would break it to\npieces. The Queen, not knowing what to do, for she saw it would be\ndangerous to try to go down, broke the second egg, and out came a\nchariot, drawn by two white doves, and Fiordelisa got into it, and was\nfloated softly away. After a night and a day the doves alighted outside\nthe gate of King Charming's kingdom. Here the Queen got out of the\nchariot, and kissed the doves and thanked them, and then with a beating\nheart she walked into the town, asking the people she met where she\ncould see the King. But they only laughed at her, crying:\n\n'See the King? And pray, why do you want to see the King, my little\nkitchen-maid? You had better go and wash your face first, your eyes are\nnot clear enough to see him!' For the Queen had disguised herself, and\npulled her hair down about her eyes, that no one might know her. As they\nwould not tell her, she went on farther, and presently asked again, and\nthis time the people answered that to-morrow she might see the King\ndriving through the streets with the Princess Turritella, as it was said\nthat at last he had consented to marry her. This was indeed terrible\nnews to Fiordelisa. Had she come all this weary way only to find\nTurritella had succeeded in making King Charming forget her?\n\nShe was too tired and miserable to walk another step, so she sat down in\na doorway and cried bitterly all night long. As soon as it was light she\nhastened to the palace, and after being sent away fifty times by the\nguards, she got in at last, and saw the thrones set in the great hall\nfor the King and Turritella, who was already looked upon as Queen.\n\nFiordelisa hid herself behind a marble pillar, and very soon saw\nTurritella make her appearance, richly dressed, but as ugly as ever, and\nwith her came the King, more handsome and splendid even than Fiordelisa\nhad remembered him. When Turritella had seated herself upon the throne,\nthe Queen approached her.\n\n'Who are you, and how dare you come near my high-mightiness, upon my\ngolden throne?' said Turritella, frowning fiercely at her.\n\n'They call me the little kitchen-maid,' she replied, 'and I come to\noffer some precious things for sale,' and with that she searched in her\nold sack, and drew out the emerald bracelets King Charming had given\nher.\n\n'Ho, ho!' said Turritella, 'those are pretty bits of glass. I suppose\nyou would like five silver pieces for them.'\n\n'Show them to someone who understands such things, Madam,' answered the\nQueen; 'after that we can decide upon the price.'\n\nTurritella, who really loved King Charming as much as she could love\nanybody, and was always delighted to get a chance of talking to him, now\nshowed him the bracelets, asking how much he considered them worth. As\nsoon as he saw them he remembered those he had given to Fiordelisa, and\nturned very pale and sighed deeply, and fell into such sad thought that\nhe quite forgot to answer her. Presently she asked him again, and then\nhe said, with a great effort:\n\n'I believe these bracelets are worth as much as my kingdom. I thought\nthere was only one such pair in the world; but here, it seems, is\nanother.'\n\nThen Turritella went back to the Queen, and asked her what was the\nlowest price she would take for them.\n\n'More than you would find it easy to pay, Madam,' answered she; 'but if\nyou will manage for me to sleep one night in the Chamber of Echoes, I\nwill give you the emeralds.'\n\n'By all means, my little kitchen-maid,' said Turritella, highly\ndelighted.\n\nThe King did not try to find out where the bracelets had come from, not\nbecause he did not want to know, but because the only way would have\nbeen to ask Turritella, and he disliked her so much that he never spoke\nto her if he could possibly avoid it. It was he who had told Fiordelisa\nabout the Chamber of Echoes, when he was a Blue Bird. It was a little\nroom below the King's own bed-chamber, and was so ingeniously built that\nthe softest whisper in it was plainly heard in the King's room.\nFiordelisa wanted to reproach him for his faithlessness, and could not\nimagine a better way than this. So when, by Turritella's orders, she was\nleft there she began to weep and lament, and never ceased until\ndaybreak.\n\nThe King's pages told Turritella, when she asked them, what a sobbing\nand sighing they had heard, and she asked Fiordelisa what it was all\nabout. The Queen answered that she often dreamed and talked aloud.\n\nBut by an unlucky chance the King heard nothing of all this, for he took\na sleeping draught every night before he lay down, and did not wake up\nuntil the sun was high.\n\nThe Queen passed the day in great disquietude.\n\n'If he did hear me,' she said, 'could he remain so cruelly indifferent?\nBut if he did not hear me, what can I do to get another chance? I have\nplenty of jewels, it is true, but nothing remarkable enough to catch\nTurritella's fancy.'\n\nJust then she thought of the eggs, and broke one, out of which came a\nlittle carriage of polished steel ornamented with gold, drawn by six\ngreen mice. The coachman was a rose-coloured rat, the postilion a grey\none, and the carriage was occupied by the tiniest and most charming\nfigures, who could dance and do wonderful tricks. Fiordelisa clapped her\nhands and danced for joy when she saw this triumph of magic art, and as\nsoon as it was evening, went to a shady garden-path down which she knew\nTurritella would pass, and then she made the mice galop, and the tiny\npeople show off their tricks, and sure enough Turritella came, and the\nmoment she saw it all cried:\n\n'Little kitchen-maid, little kitchen-maid, what will you take for your\nmouse-carriage?'\n\nAnd the Queen answered:\n\n'Let me sleep once more in the Chamber of Echoes.'\n\n[Illustration]\n\n'I won't refuse your request, poor creature,' said Turritella\ncondescendingly.\n\nAnd then she turned to her ladies and whispered:\n\n'The silly creature does not know how to profit by her chances; so much\nthe better for me.'\n\nWhen night came Fiordelisa said all the loving words she could think of,\nbut alas! with no better success than before, for the King slept heavily\nafter his draught. One of the pages said:\n\n'This peasant girl must be crazy;' but another answered:\n\n'Yet what she says sounds very sad and touching.'\n\nAs for Fiordelisa, she thought the King must have a very hard heart if\nhe could hear how she grieved and yet pay her no attention. She had but\none more chance, and on breaking the last egg she found to her great\ndelight that it contained a more marvellous thing than ever. It was a\npie made of six birds, cooked to perfection, and yet they were all\nalive, and singing and talking, and they answered questions and told\nfortunes in the most amusing way. Taking this treasure Fiordelisa once\nmore set herself to wait in the great hall through which Turritella was\nsure to pass, and as she sat there one of the King's pages came by, and\nsaid to her:\n\n'Well, little kitchen-maid, it is a good thing that the King always\ntakes a sleeping draught, for if not he would be kept awake all night by\nyour sighing and lamenting.'\n\nThen Fiordelisa knew why the King had not heeded her, and taking a\nhandful of pearls and diamonds out of her sack, she said, 'If you can\npromise me that to-night the King shall not have his sleeping draught, I\nwill give you all these jewels.'\n\n'Oh! I promise that willingly,' said the page.\n\nAt this moment Turritella appeared, and at the first sight of the\nsavoury pie, with the pretty little birds all singing and chattering,\nshe cried:--\n\n'That is an admirable pie, little kitchen-maid. Pray what will you take\nfor it?'\n\n'The usual price,' she answered. 'To sleep once more in the Chamber of\nEchoes.'\n\n'By all means, only give me the pie,' said the greedy Turritella. And\nwhen night was come, Queen Fiordelisa waited until she thought everybody\nin the palace would be asleep, and then began to lament as before.\n\n'Ah, Charming!' she said, 'what have I ever done that you should forsake\nme and marry Turritella? If you could only know all I have suffered, and\nwhat a weary way I have come to seek you.'\n\nNow the page had faithfully kept his word, and given King Charming a\nglass of water instead of his usual sleeping draught, so there he lay\nwide awake, and heard every word Fiordelisa said, and even recognised\nher voice, though he could not tell where it came from.\n\n'Ah, Princess!' he said, 'how could you betray me to our cruel enemies\nwhen I loved you so dearly?'\n\nFiordelisa heard him, and answered quickly:\n\n'Find out the little kitchen-maid, and she will explain everything.'\n\nThen the King in a great hurry sent for his pages and said:\n\n'If you can find the little kitchen-maid, bring her to me at once.'\n\n'Nothing could be easier, Sire,' they answered, 'for she is in the\nChamber of Echoes.'\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe King was very much puzzled when he heard this. How could the lovely\nPrincess Fiordelisa be a little kitchen-maid? or how could a little\nkitchen-maid have Fiordelisa's own voice? So he dressed hastily, and ran\ndown a little secret staircase which led to the Chamber of Echoes.\nThere, upon a heap of soft cushions, sat his lovely Princess. She had\nlaid aside all her ugly disguises and wore a white silken robe, and her\ngolden hair shone in the soft lamp-light. The King was overjoyed at the\nsight, and rushed to throw himself at her feet, and asked her a thousand\nquestions without giving her time to answer one. Fiordelisa was equally\nhappy to be with him once more, and nothing troubled them but the\nremembrance of the Fairy Mazilla. But at this moment in came the\nEnchanter, and with him a famous Fairy, the same in fact who had given\nFiordelisa the eggs. After greeting the King and Queen, they said that\nas they were united in wishing to help King Charming, the Fairy Mazilla\nhad no longer any power against him, and he might marry Fiordelisa as\nsoon as he pleased. The King's joy may be imagined, and as soon as it\nwas day the news was spread through the palace, and everybody who saw\nFiordelisa loved her directly. When Turritella heard what had happened\nshe came running to the King, and when she saw Fiordelisa with him she\nwas terribly angry, but before she could say a word the Enchanter and\nthe Fairy changed her into a big brown owl, and she floated away out of\none of the palace windows, hooting dismally. Then the wedding was held\nwith great splendour, and King Charming and Queen Fiordelisa lived\nhappily ever after.\n\n L'Oiseau Bleu. Par Mme. d'Auluoy.\n\n\n\n\n _THE HALF-CHICK_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a handsome black Spanish hen, who had a large\nbrood of chickens. They were all fine, plump little birds, except the\nyoungest, who was quite unlike his brothers and sisters. Indeed, he was\nsuch a strange, queer-looking creature, that when he first chipped his\nshell his mother could scarcely believe her eyes, he was so different\nfrom the twelve other fluffy, downy, soft little chicks who nestled\nunder her wings. This one looked just as if he had been cut in two. He\nhad only one leg, and one wing, and one eye, and he had half a head and\nhalf a beak. His mother shook her head sadly as she looked at him and\nsaid:\n\n'My youngest born is only a half-chick. He can never grow up a tall\nhandsome cock like his brothers. They will go out into the world and\nrule over poultry yards of their own; but this poor little fellow will\nalways have to stay at home with his mother.' And she called him Medio\nPollito, which is Spanish for half-chick.\n\nNow though Medio Pollito was such an odd, helpless-looking little thing,\nhis mother soon found that he was not at all willing to remain under her\nwing and protection. Indeed, in character he was as unlike his brothers\nand sisters as he was in appearance. They were good, obedient chickens,\nand when the old hen chicked after them, they chirped and ran back to\nher side. But Medio Pollito had a roving spirit in spite of his one leg,\nand when his mother called to him to return to the coop, he pretended\nthat he could not hear, because he had only one ear.\n\nWhen she took the whole family out for a walk in the fields, Medio\nPollito would hop away by himself, and hide among the Indian corn. Many\nan anxious minute his brothers and sisters had looking for him, while\nhis mother ran to and fro cackling in fear and dismay.\n\nAs he grew older he became more self-willed and disobedient, and his\nmanner to his mother was often very rude, and his temper to the other\nchickens very disagreeable.\n\nOne day he had been out for a longer expedition than usual in the\nfields. On his return he strutted up to his mother with the peculiar\nlittle hop and kick which was his way of walking, and cocking his one\neye at her in a very bold way he said:\n\n'Mother, I am tired of this life in a dull farmyard, with nothing but a\ndreary maize field to look at. I'm off to Madrid to see the King.'\n\n'To Madrid, Medio Pollito!' exclaimed his mother; 'why, you silly chick,\nit would be a long journey for a grown-up cock, and a poor little thing\nlike you would be tired out before you had gone half the distance. No,\nno, stay at home with your mother, and some day, when you are bigger, we\nwill go a little journey together.'\n\nBut Medio Pollito had made up his mind, and he would not listen to his\nmother's advice, nor to the prayers and entreaties of his brothers and\nsisters.\n\n'What is the use of our all crowding each other up in this poky little\nplace?' he said. 'When I have a fine courtyard of my own at the King's\npalace, I shall perhaps ask some of you to come and pay me a short\nvisit,' and scarcely waiting to say good-bye to his family, away he\nstumped down the high road that led to Madrid.\n\n'Be sure that you are kind and civil to everyone you meet,' called his\nmother, running after him; but he was in such a hurry to be off, that he\ndid not wait to answer her, or even to look back.\n\nA little later in the day, as he was taking a short cut through a field,\nhe passed a stream. Now the stream was all choked up, and overgrown with\nweeds and water-plants, so that its waters could not flow freely.\n\n'Oh! Medio Pollito,' it cried, as the half-chick hopped along its banks,\n'do come and help me by clearing away these weeds.'\n\n'Help you, indeed!' exclaimed Medio Pollito, tossing his head, and\nshaking the few feathers in his tail. 'Do you think I have nothing to do\nbut to waste my time on such trifles? Help yourself, and don't trouble\nbusy travellers. I am off to Madrid to see the King,' and hoppity-kick,\nhoppity-kick, away stumped Medio Pollito.\n\nA little later he came to a fire that had been left by some gipsies in\na wood. It was burning very low, and would soon be out.\n\n'Oh! Medio Pollito,' cried the fire, in a weak, wavering voice as the\nhalf-chick approached, 'in a few minutes I shall go quite out, unless\nyou put some sticks and dry leaves upon me. Do help me, or I shall die!'\n\n'Help you, indeed!' answered Medio Pollito. 'I have other things to do.\nGather sticks for yourself, and don't trouble me. I am off to Madrid to\nsee the King,' and hoppity-kick, hoppity-kick, away stumped Medio\nPollito.\n\nThe next morning, as he was getting near Madrid, he passed a large\nchestnut tree, in whose branches the wind was caught and entangled. 'Oh!\nMedio Pollito,' called the wind, 'do hop up here, and help me to get\nfree of these branches. I cannot come away, and it is so uncomfortable.'\n\n'It is your own fault for going there,' answered Medio Pollito. 'I can't\nwaste all my morning stopping here to help you. Just shake yourself off,\nand don't hinder me, for I am off to Madrid to see the King,' and\nhoppity-kick, hoppity-kick, away stumped Medio Pollito in great glee,\nfor the towers and roofs of Madrid were now in sight. When he entered\nthe town he saw before him a great splendid house, with soldiers\nstanding before the gates. This he knew must be the King's palace, and\nhe determined to hop up to the front gate and wait there until the King\ncame out. But as he was hopping past one of the back windows the King's\ncook saw him:\n\n'Here is the very thing I want,' he exclaimed, 'for the King has just\nsent a message to say that he must have chicken broth for his dinner,'\nand opening the window he stretched out his arm, caught Medio Pollito,\nand popped him into the broth-pot that was standing near the fire. Oh!\nhow wet and clammy the water felt as it went over Medio Pollito's head,\nmaking his feathers cling to his side.\n\n'Water, water!' he cried in his despair, 'do have pity upon me, and do\nnot wet me like this.'\n\n'Ah! Medio Pollito,' replied the water, 'you would not help me when I\nwas a little stream away on the fields, now you must be punished.'\n\nThen the fire began to burn and scald Medio Pollito, and he danced and\nhopped from one side of the pot to the other, trying to get away from\nthe heat, and crying out in pain:\n\n'Fire, fire! do not scorch me like this; you can't think how it hurts.'\n\n'Ah! Medio Pollito,' answered the fire, 'you would not help me when I\nwas dying away in the wood. You are being punished.'\n\nAt last, just when the pain was so great that Medio Pollito thought he\nmust die, the cook lifted up the lid of the pot to see if the broth was\nready for the King's dinner.\n\n'Look here!' he cried in horror, 'this chicken is quite useless.\n\nIt is burnt to a cinder. I can't send it up to the royal table;' and\nopening the window he threw Medio Pollito out into the street. But the\nwind caught him up, and whirled him through the air so quickly that\nMedio Pollito could scarcely breathe, and his heart beat against his\nside till he thought it would break.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n'Oh, wind!' at last he gasped out, 'if you hurry me along like this you\nwill kill me. Do let me rest a moment, or----' but he was so breathless\nthat he could not finish his sentence.\n\n'Ah! Medio Pollito,' replied the wind, 'when I was caught in the\nbranches of the chestnut tree you would not help me; now you are\npunished.' And he swirled Medio Pollito over the roofs of the houses\ntill they reached the highest church in the town, and there he left him\nfastened to the top of the steeple.\n\nAnd there stands Medio Pollito to this day. And if you go to Madrid, and\nwalk through the streets till you come to the highest church, you will\nsee Medio Pollito perched on his one leg on the steeple, with his one\nwing drooping at his side, and gazing sadly out of his one eye over the\ntown.\n\n Spanish Tradition.\n\n\n\n\n _THE STORY OF CALIPH STORK_\n\n I.\n\n\nCaliph Chasid, of Bagdad, was resting comfortably on his divan one fine\nafternoon. He was smoking a long pipe, and from time to time he sipped a\nlittle coffee which a slave handed to him, and after each sip he stroked\nhis long beard with an air of enjoyment. In short, anyone could see that\nthe Caliph was in an excellent humour. This was, in fact, the best time\nof day in which to approach him, for just now he was pretty sure to be\nboth affable and in good spirits, and for this reason the Grand Vizier\nMansor always chose this hour in which to pay his daily visit.\n\nHe arrived as usual this afternoon, but, contrary to his usual custom,\nwith an anxious face. The Caliph withdrew his pipe for a moment from his\nlips and asked, 'Why do you look so anxious, Grand Vizier?'\n\nThe Grand Vizier crossed his arms on his breast and bent low before his\nmaster as he answered:\n\n'Oh, my Lord! whether my countenance be anxious or not I know not, but\ndown below, in the court of the palace, is a pedlar with such beautiful\nthings that I cannot help feeling annoyed at having so little money to\nspare.'\n\nThe Caliph, who had wished for some time past to give his Grand Vizier a\npresent, ordered his black slave to bring the pedlar before him at once.\nThe slave soon returned, followed by the pedlar, a short stout man with\na swarthy face, and dressed in very ragged clothes. He carried a box\ncontaining all manner of wares--strings of pearls, rings, richly mounted\npistols, goblets, and combs. The Caliph and his Vizier inspected\neverything, and the Caliph chose some handsome pistols for himself and\nMansor, and a jewelled comb for the Vizier's wife. Just as the pedlar\nwas about to close his box, the Caliph noticed a small drawer, and asked\nif there was anything else in it for sale. The pedlar opened the drawer\nand showed them a box containing a black powder, and a scroll written in\nstrange characters, which neither the Caliph nor the Mansor could read.\n\n'I got these two articles from a merchant who had picked them up in the\nstreet at Mecca,' said the pedlar. 'I do not know what they may contain,\nbut as they are of no use to me, you are welcome to have them for a\ntrifle.'\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe Caliph, who liked to have old manuscripts in his library, even\nthough he could not read them, purchased the scroll and the box, and\ndismissed the pedlar. Then, being anxious to know what might be the\ncontents of the scroll, he asked the Vizier if he did not know of anyone\nwho might be able to decipher it.\n\n'Most gracious Lord and master,' replied the Vizier, 'near the great\nMosque lives a man called Selim the learned, who knows every language\nunder the sun. Send for him; it may be that he will be able to interpret\nthese mysterious characters.'\n\nThe learned Selim was summoned immediately.\n\n'Selim,' said the Caliph, 'I hear you are a scholar. Look well at this\nscroll and see whether you can read it. If you can, I will give you a\nrobe of honour; but if you fail, I will order you to receive twelve\nstrokes on your cheeks, and five-and-twenty on the soles of your feet,\nbecause you have been falsely called Selim the learned.'\n\nSelim prostrated himself and said, 'Be it according to your will, oh\nmaster!' Then he gazed long at the scroll. Suddenly he exclaimed: 'May I\ndie, oh, my Lord, if this isn't Latin!'\n\n'Well,' said the Caliph, 'if it is Latin, let us hear what it means.'\n\nSo Selim began to translate: 'Thou who mayest find this, praise Allah\nfor his mercy. Whoever shall snuff the powder in this box, and at the\nsame time shall pronounce the word \"Mutabor!\" can transform himself into\nany creature he likes, and will understand the language of all animals.\nWhen he wishes to resume the human form, he has only to bow three times\ntowards the east, and to repeat the same word. Be careful, however, when\nwearing the shape of some beast or bird, not to laugh, or thou wilt\ncertainly forget the magic word and remain an animal for ever.'\n\nWhen Selim the learned had read this, the Caliph was delighted. He made\nthe wise man swear not to tell the matter to anyone, gave him a splendid\nrobe, and dismissed him. Then he said to his Vizier, 'That's what I call\na good bargain, Mansor. I am longing for the moment when I can become\nsome animal. To-morrow morning I shall expect you early; we will go into\nthe country, take some snuff from my box, and then hear what is being\nsaid in air, earth, and water.'\n\n\n II.\n\nNext morning Caliph Chasid had barely finished dressing and\nbreakfasting, when the Grand Vizier arrived, according to orders, to\naccompany him in his expedition. The Caliph stuck the snuff-box in his\ngirdle, and, having desired his servants to remain at home, started off\nwith the Grand Vizier only in attendance. First they walked through the\npalace gardens, but they looked in vain for some creature which could\ntempt them to try their magic power. At length the Vizier suggested\ngoing further on to a pond which lay beyond the town, and where he had\noften seen a variety of creatures, especially storks, whose grave,\ndignified appearance and constant chatter had often attracted his\nattention.\n\nThe Caliph consented, and they went straight to the pond. As soon as\nthey arrived they remarked a stork strutting up and down with a stately\nair, hunting for frogs, and now and then muttering something to itself.\nAt the same time they saw another stork far above in the sky flying\ntowards the same spot.\n\n'I would wager my beard, most gracious master,' said the Grand Vizier,\n'that these two long legs will have a good chat together. How would it\nbe if we turned ourselves into storks?'\n\n'Well said,' replied the Caliph; 'but first let us remember carefully\nhow we are to become men once more. True! Bow three times towards the\neast and say \"Mutabor!\" and I shall be Caliph and you my Grand Vizier\nagain. But for Heaven's sake don't laugh or we are lost!'\n\nAs the Caliph spoke he saw the second stork circling round his head and\ngradually flying towards the earth. Quickly he drew the box from his\ngirdle, took a good pinch of the snuff, and offered one to Mansor, who\nalso took one, and both cried together 'Mutabor!'\n\nInstantly their legs shrivelled up and grew thin and red; their smart\nyellow slippers turned to clumsy stork's feet, their arms to wings;\ntheir necks began to sprout from between their shoulders and grew a yard\nlong; their beards disappeared, and their bodies were covered with\nfeathers.\n\n'You've got a fine long bill, Sir Vizier,' cried the Caliph, after\nstanding for some time lost in astonishment. 'By the beard of the\nProphet I never saw such a thing in all my life!'\n\n'My very humble thanks,' replied the Grand Vizier, as he bent his long\nneck; 'but, if I may venture to say so, your Highness is even handsomer\nas a stork than as a Caliph. But come, if it so pleases you, let us go\nnear our comrades there and find out whether we really do understand the\nlanguage of storks.'\n\nMeantime the second stork had reached the ground. It first scraped its\nbill with its claw, stroked down its feathers, and then advanced towards\nthe first stork. The two newly made storks lost no time in drawing near,\nand to their amazement overheard the following conversation:\n\n'Good morning, Dame Longlegs. You are out early this morning!'\n\n'Yes, indeed, dear Chatterbill! I am getting myself a morsel of\nbreakfast. May I offer you a joint of lizard or a frog's thigh?'\n\n'A thousand thanks, but I have really no appetite this morning. I am\nhere for a very different purpose. I am to dance to-day before my\nfather's guests, and I have come to the meadow for a little quiet\npractice.'\n\nThereupon the young stork began to move about with the most wonderful\nsteps. The Caliph and Mansor looked on in surprise for some time; but\nwhen at last she balanced herself in a picturesque attitude on one leg,\nand flapped her wings gracefully up and down, they could hold out no\nlonger; a prolonged peal burst from each of their bills, and it was some\ntime before they could recover their composure. The Caliph was the first\nto collect himself. 'That was the best joke,' said he, 'I've ever seen.\nIt's a pity the stupid creatures were scared away by our laughter, or no\ndoubt they would have sung next!'\n\n[Illustration]\n\nSuddenly, however, the Vizier remembered how strictly they had been\nwarned not to laugh during their transformation. He at once communicated\nhis fears to the Caliph, who exclaimed, 'By Mecca and Medina! it would\nindeed prove but a poor joke if I had to remain a stork for the\nremainder of my days! Do just try and remember the stupid word, it has\nslipped my memory.'\n\n'We must bow three times eastwards and say \"Mu . . . mu . . . mu . . .\"'\n\nThey turned to the east and fell to bowing till their bills touched the\nground, but, oh horror--the magic word was quite forgotten, and however\noften the Caliph bowed and however touchingly his Vizier cried 'Mu . . .\nmu . . .' they could not recall it, and the unhappy Chasid and Mansor\nremained storks as they were.\n\n\n III.\n\nThe two enchanted birds wandered sadly on through the meadows. In their\nmisery they could not think what to do next. They could not rid\nthemselves of their new forms; there was no use in returning to the town\nand saying who they were; for who would believe a stork who announced\nthat he was a Caliph; and even if they did believe him, would the people\nof Bagdad consent to let a stork rule over them?\n\nSo they lounged about for several days, supporting themselves on fruits,\nwhich, however, they found some difficulty in eating with their long\nbills. They did not much care to eat frogs or lizards. Their one comfort\nin their sad plight was the power of flying, and accordingly they often\nflew over the roofs of Bagdad to see what was going on there.\n\nDuring the first few days they noticed signs of much disturbance and\ndistress in the streets, but about the fourth day, as they sat on the\nroof of the palace, they perceived a splendid procession passing below\nthem along the street. Drums and trumpets sounded, a man in a scarlet\nmantle, embroidered in gold, sat on a splendidly caparisoned horse\nsurrounded by richly dressed slaves; half Bagdad crowded after him, and\nthey all shouted, 'Hail, Mirza, the Lord of Bagdad!'\n\nThe two storks on the palace roof looked at each other, and Caliph\nChasid said, 'Can you guess now, Grand Vizier, why I have been\nenchanted? This Mirza is the son of my deadly enemy, the mighty magician\nKaschnur, who in an evil moment vowed vengeance on me. Still I will not\ndespair! Come with me, my faithful friend; we will go to the grave of\nthe Prophet, and perhaps at that sacred spot the spell may be loosed.'\n\nThey rose from the palace roof, and spread their wings toward Medina.\n\nBut flying was not quite an easy matter, for the two storks had had but\nlittle practice as yet.\n\n'Oh, my Lord!' gasped the Vizier, after a couple of hours, 'I can get on\nno longer; you really fly too quick for me. Besides, it is nearly\nevening, and we should do well to find some place in which to spend the\nnight.'\n\nChasib listened with favour to his servant's suggestion, and perceiving\nin the valley beneath them a ruin which seemed to promise shelter they\nflew towards it. The building in which they proposed to pass the night\nhad apparently been formerly a castle. Some handsome pillars still stood\namongst the heaps of ruins, and several rooms, which yet remained in\nfair preservation, gave evidence of former splendour. Chasid and his\ncompanion wandered along the passages seeking a dry spot, when suddenly\nMansor stood still.\n\n'My Lord and master,' he whispered, 'if it were not absurd for a Grand\nVizier, and still more for a stork, to be afraid of ghosts, I should\nfeel quite nervous, for someone, or something close by me, has sighed\nand moaned quite audibly.'\n\nThe Caliph stood still and distinctly heard a low weeping sound which\nseemed to proceed from a human being rather than from any animal. Full\nof curiosity he was about to rush towards the spot from whence the\nsounds of woe came, when the Vizier caught him by the wing with his\nbill, and implored him not to expose himself to fresh and unknown\ndangers. The Caliph, however, under whose stork's breast a brave heart\nbeat, tore himself away with the loss of a few feathers, and hurried\ndown a dark passage. He saw a door which stood ajar, and through which\nhe distinctly heard sighs, mingled with sobs. He pushed open the door\nwith his bill, but remained on the threshold, astonished at the sight\nwhich met his eyes. On the floor of the ruined chamber--which was but\nscantily lighted by a small barred window--sat a large screech owl. Big\ntears rolled from its large round eyes, and in a hoarse voice it uttered\nits complaints through its crooked beak. As soon as it saw the Caliph\nand his Vizier--who had crept up meanwhile--it gave vent to a joyful\ncry. It gently wiped the tears from its eyes with its spotted brown\nwings, and to the great amazement of the two visitors, addressed them in\ngood human Arabic.\n\n'Welcome, ye storks! You are a good sign of my deliverance, for it was\nforetold me that a piece of good fortune should befall me through a\nstork.'\n\nWhen the Caliph had recovered from his surprise, he drew up his feet\ninto a graceful position, bent his long neck, and said: 'Oh, screech\nowl! from your words I am led to believe that we see in you a companion\nin misfortune. But, alas! your hope that you may attain your deliverance\nthrough us is but a vain one. You will know our helplessness when you\nhave heard our story.'\n\nThe screech owl begged him to relate it, and the Caliph accordingly told\nhim what we already know.\n\n\n IV.\n\nWhen the Caliph had ended, the owl thanked him and said: 'You hear my\nstory, and own that I am no less unfortunate than yourselves. My father\nis the King of the Indies. I, his only daughter, am named Lusa. That\nmagician Kaschnur, who enchanted you, has been the cause of my\nmisfortunes too. He came one day to my father and demanded my hand for\nhis son Mirza. My father--who is rather hasty--ordered him to be thrown\ndownstairs. The wretch not long after managed to approach me under\nanother form, and one day, when I was in the garden, and asked for some\nrefreshment, he brought me--in the disguise of a slave--a draught which\nchanged me at once to this horrid shape. Whilst I was fainting with\nterror he transported me here, and cried to me with his awful voice:\n\"There shall you remain, lonely and hideous, despised even by the\nbrutes, till the end of your days, or till some one of his own free will\nasks you to be his wife. Thus do I avenge myself on you and your proud\nfather.\"\n\n'Since then many months have passed away. Sad and lonely do I live like\nany hermit within these walls, avoided by the world and a terror even to\nanimals; the beauties of nature are hidden from me, for I am blind by\nday, and it is only when the moon sheds her pale light on this spot that\nthe veil falls from my eyes and I can see.' The owl paused, and once\nmore wiped her eyes with her wing, for the recital of her woes had drawn\nfresh tears from her.\n\nThe Caliph fell into deep thought on hearing this story of the Princess.\n'If I am not much mistaken,' said he, 'there is some mysterious\nconnection between our misfortunes, but how to find the key to the\nriddle is the question.'\n\nThe owl answered: 'Oh, my Lord! I too feel sure of this, for in my\nearliest youth a wise woman foretold that a stork would bring me some\ngreat happiness, and I think I could tell you how we might save\nourselves.' The Caliph was much surprised, and asked her what she meant.\n\n'The Magician who has made us both miserable,' said she, 'comes once a\nmonth to these ruins. Not far from this room is a large hall where he is\nin the habit of feasting with his companions. I have often watched them.\nThey tell each other all about their evil deeds, and possibly the magic\nword which you have forgotten may be mentioned.'\n\n'Oh, dearest Princess!' exclaimed the Caliph, 'say, when does he come,\nand where is the hall?'\n\nThe owl paused a moment and then said: 'Do not think me unkind, but I\ncan only grant your request on one condition.'\n\n'Speak, speak!' cried Chasid; 'command, I will gladly do whatever you\nwish!'\n\n'Well,' replied the owl, 'you see I should like to be free too; but this\ncan only be if one of you will offer me his hand in marriage.'\n\nThe storks seemed rather taken aback by this suggestion, and the Caliph\nbeckoned to his Vizier to retire and consult with him.\n\nWhen they were outside the door the Caliph said: 'Grand Vizier, this is\na tiresome business. However, you can take her.'\n\n'Indeed!' said the Vizier; 'so that when I go home my wife may scratch\nmy eyes out! Besides, I am an old man, and your Highness is still young\nand unmarried, and a far more suitable match for a young and lovely\nPrincess.'\n\n'That's just where it is,' sighed the Caliph, whose wings drooped in a\ndejected manner; 'how do you know she is young and lovely? I call it\nbuying a pig in a poke.'\n\nThey argued on for some time, but at length, when the Caliph saw plainly\nthat his Vizier would rather remain a stork to the end of his days than\nmarry the owl, he determined to fulfil the condition himself. The owl\nwas delighted. She owned that they could not have arrived at a better\ntime, as most probably the magicians would meet that very night.\n\nShe then proceeded to lead the two storks to the chamber. They passed\nthrough a long dark passage till at length a bright ray of light shone\nbefore them through the chinks of a half-ruined wall. When they reached\nit the owl advised them to keep very quiet. Through the gap near which\nthey stood they could with ease survey the whole of the large hall. It\nwas adorned with splendid carved pillars; a number of coloured lamps\nreplaced the light of day. In the middle of the hall stood a round\ntable covered with a variety of dishes, and about the table was a divan\non which eight men were seated. In one of these bad men the two\nrecognised the pedlar who had sold the magic powder. The man next him\nbegged him to relate all his latest doings, and amongst them he told the\nstory of the Caliph and his Vizier.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n'And what kind of word did you give them?' asked another old sorcerer.\n\n'A very difficult Latin word; it is \"Mutabor.\"'\n\n\n V.\n\nAs soon as the storks heard this they were nearly beside themselves with\njoy. They ran at such a pace to the door of the ruined castle that the\nowl could scarcely keep up with them. When they reached it the Caliph\nturned to the owl, and said with much feeling: 'Deliverer of my friend\nand myself, as a proof of my eternal gratitude, accept me as your\nhusband.' Then he turned towards the east. Three times the storks bowed\ntheir long necks to the sun, which was just rising over the mountains.\n'Mutabor!' they both cried, and in an instant they were once more\ntransformed. In the rapture of their newly-given lives master and\nservant fell laughing and weeping into each other's arms. Who shall\ndescribe their surprise when they at last turned round and beheld\nstanding before them a beautiful lady exquisitely dressed!\n\nWith a smile she held out her hand to the Caliph, and asked: 'Do you not\nrecognise your screech owl?'\n\nIt was she! The Caliph was so enchanted by her grace and beauty, that he\ndeclared being turned into a stork had been the best piece of luck which\nhad ever befallen him. The three set out at once for Bagdad.\nFortunately, the Caliph found not only the box with the magic powder,\nbut also his purse in his girdle; he was, therefore, able to buy in the\nnearest village all they required for their journey, and so at last they\nreached the gates of Bagdad.\n\nHere the Caliph's arrival created the greatest sensation. He had been\nquite given up for dead, and the people were greatly rejoiced to see\ntheir beloved ruler again.\n\nTheir rage with the usurper Mirza, however, was great in proportion.\nThey marched in force to the palace and took the old magician and his\nson prisoners. The Caliph sent the magician to the room where the\nPrincess had lived as an owl, and there had him hanged. As the son,\nhowever, knew nothing of his father's acts, the Caliph gave him his\nchoice between death and a pinch of the magic snuff. When he chose the\nlatter, the Grand Vizier handed him the box. One good pinch, and the\nmagic word transformed him to a stork. The Caliph ordered him to be\nconfined in an iron cage, and placed in the palace gardens.\n\nCaliph Chasid lived long and happily with his wife the Princess. His\nmerriest time was when the Grand Vizier visited him in the afternoon;\nand when the Caliph was in particularly high spirits he would condescend\nto mimic the Vizier's appearance when he was a stork. He would strut\ngravely, and with well-stiffened legs, up and down the room, chattering,\nand showing how he had vainly bowed to the east and cried 'Mu . . . Mu . . .'\nThe Caliphess and her children were always much entertained by this\nperformance; but when the Caliph went on nodding and bowing, and calling\n'Mu . . . mu . . .' too long, the Vizier would threaten laughingly to\ntell the Caliphess the subject of the discussion carried on one night\noutside the door of Princess Screech Owl.\n\n\n\n\n _THE ENCHANTED WATCH_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a rich man who had three sons. When they\ngrew up, he sent the eldest to travel and see the world, and three years\npassed before his family saw him again. Then he returned, magnificently\ndressed, and his father was so delighted with his behaviour, that he\ngave a great feast in his honour, to which all the relations and friends\nwere invited.\n\nWhen the rejoicings were ended, the second son begged leave of his\nfather to go in his turn to travel and mix with the world. The father\nwas enchanted at the request, and gave him plenty of money for his\nexpenses, saying, 'If you behave as well as your brother, I will do\nhonour to you as I did to him.' The young man promised to do his best,\nand his conduct during three years was all that it should be. Then he\nwent home, and his father was so pleased with him that his feast of\nwelcome was even more splendid than the one before.\n\nThe third brother, whose name was Jenik, or Johnnie, was considered the\nmost foolish of the three. He never did anything at home except sit over\nthe stove and dirty himself with the ashes; but he also begged his\nfather's leave to travel for three years. 'Go if you like, you idiot;\nbut what good will it do you?'\n\nThe youth paid no heed to his father's observations as long as he\nobtained permission to go. The father saw him depart with joy, glad to\nget rid of him, and gave him a handsome sum of money for his needs.\n\nOnce, as he was making one of his journeys, Jenik chanced to cross a\nmeadow where some shepherds were just about to kill a dog. He entreated\nthem to spare it, and to give it to him instead, which they willingly\ndid, and he went on his way, followed by the dog. A little further on he\ncame upon a cat, which someone was going to put to death. He implored\nits life, and the cat followed him. Finally, in another place, he saved\na serpent, which was also handed over to him, and now they made a party\nof four--the dog behind Jenik, the cat behind the dog, and the serpent\nbehind the cat.\n\nThen the serpent said to Jenik, 'Go wherever you see me go,' for in the\nautumn, when all the serpents hide themselves in their holes, this\nserpent was going in search of his king, who was king of all the snakes.\n\nThen he added: 'My king will scold me for my long absence, everyone else\nis housed for the winter, and I am very late. I shall have to tell him\nwhat danger I have been in, and how, without your help, I should\ncertainly have lost my life. The king will ask what you would like in\nreturn, and be sure you beg for the watch which hangs on the wall. It\nhas all sorts of wonderful properties, you only need to rub it to get\nwhatever you like.'\n\n[Illustration]\n\nNo sooner said than done. Jenik became the master of the watch, and the\nmoment he got out he wished to put its virtues to the proof. He was\nhungry, and thought it would be delightful to eat in the meadow a loaf\nof new bread and a steak of good beef washed down by a flask of wine, so\nhe scratched the watch, and in an instant it was all before him. Imagine\nhis joy!\n\nEvening soon came, and Jenik rubbed his watch, and thought it would be\nvery pleasant to have a room with a comfortable bed and a good supper.\nIn an instant they were all before him. After supper he went to bed and\nslept till morning, as every honest man ought to do. Then he set forth\nfor his father's house, his mind dwelling on the feast that would be\nawaiting him. But as he returned in the same old clothes in which he\nwent away, his father flew into a great rage, and refused to do anything\nfor him. Jenik went to his old place near the stove, and dirtied himself\nin the ashes without anybody minding.\n\nThe third day, feeling rather dull, he thought it would be nice to see a\nthree-story house filled with beautiful furniture, and with vessels of\nsilver and gold. So he rubbed the watch, and there it all was. Jenik\nwent to look for his father, and said to him: 'You offered me no feast\nof welcome, but permit me to give one to you, and come and let me show\nyou my plate.'\n\nThe father was much astonished, and longed to know where his son had got\nall this wealth. Jenik did not reply, but begged him to invite all their\nrelations and friends to a grand banquet.\n\nSo the father invited all the world, and everyone was amazed to see such\nsplendid things, so much plate, and so many fine dishes on the table.\nAfter the first course Jenik prayed his father to invite the King, and\nhis daughter the Princess. He rubbed his watch and wished for a carriage\nornamented with gold and silver, and drawn by six horses, with harness\nglittering with precious stones. The father did not dare to sit in this\ngorgeous coach, but went to the palace on foot. The King and his\ndaughter were immensely surprised with the beauty of the carriage, and\nmounted the steps at once to go to Jenik's banquet. Then Jenik rubbed\nhis watch afresh, and wished that for six miles the way to the house\nshould be paved with marble. Who ever felt so astonished as the King?\nNever had he travelled over such a gorgeous road.\n\nWhen Jenik heard the wheels of the carriage, he rubbed his watch and\nwished for a still more beautiful house, four stories high, and hung\nwith gold, silver, and damask; filled with wonderful tables, covered\nwith dishes such as no king had ever eaten before. The King, the Queen,\nand the Princess were speechless with surprise. Never had they seen such\na splendid palace, nor such a high feast! At dessert the King asked\nJenik's father to give him the young man for a son-in-law. No sooner\nsaid than done! The marriage took place at once, and the King returned\nto his own palace, and left Jenik with his wife in the enchanted house.\n\nNow Jenik was not a very clever man, and at the end of a very short time\nhe began to bore his wife. She inquired how he managed to build palaces\nand to get so many precious things. He told her all about the watch, and\nshe never rested till she had stolen the precious talisman. One night\nshe took the watch, rubbed it, and wished for a carriage drawn by four\nhorses; and in this carriage she at once set out for her father's\npalace. There she called to her own attendants, bade them follow her\ninto the carriage, and drove straight to the sea-side. Then she rubbed\nher watch, and wished that the sea might be crossed by a bridge, and\nthat a magnificent palace might arise in the middle of the sea. No\nsooner said than done. The Princess entered the house, rubbed her watch,\nand in an instant the bridge was gone.\n\nLeft alone, Jenik felt very miserable. His father, mother, and brothers,\nand, indeed, everybody else, all laughed at him. Nothing remained to him\nbut the cat and dog whose lives he had once saved. He took them with him\nand went far away, for he could no longer live with his family. He\nreached at last a great desert, and saw some crows flying towards a\nmountain. One of them was a long way behind, and when he arrived his\nbrothers inquired what had made him so late. 'Winter is here,' they\nsaid, 'and it is time to fly to other countries.' He told them that he\nhad seen in the middle of the sea the most wonderful house that ever was\nbuilt.\n\nOn hearing this, Jenik at once concluded that this must be the\nhiding-place of his wife. So he proceeded directly to the shore with his\ndog and his cat. When he arrived on the beach, he said to the dog: 'You\nare an excellent swimmer, and you, little one, are very light; jump on\nthe dog's back and he will take you to the palace. Once there, he will\nhide himself near the door, and you must steal secretly in and try to\nget hold of my watch.'\n\nNo sooner said than done. The two animals crossed the sea; the dog hid\nnear the house, and the cat stole into the chamber. The Princess\nrecognised him, and guessed why he had come; and she took the watch down\nto the cellar and locked it in a box. But the cat wriggled its way into\nthe cellar, and the moment the Princess turned her back, he scratched\nand scratched till he had made a hole in the box. Then he took the watch\nbetween his teeth, and waited quietly till the Princess came back.\nScarcely had she opened the door when the cat was outside, and the\nwatch into the bargain.\n\nThe cat was no sooner beyond the gates than she said to the dog:\n\n'We are going to cross the sea; be very careful not to speak to me.'\n\nThe dog laid this to heart and said nothing; but when they approached\nthe shore he could not help asking, 'Have you got the watch?'\n\nThe cat did not answer--he was afraid that he might let the talisman\nfall. When they touched the shore the dog repeated his question.\n\n'Yes,' said the cat.\n\nAnd the watch fell into the sea. Then our two friends began each to\naccuse the other, and both looked sorrowfully at the place where their\ntreasure had fallen in. Suddenly a fish appeared near the edge of the\nsea. The cat seized it, and thought it would make them a good supper.\n\n'I have nine little children,' cried the fish. 'Spare the father of a\nfamily!'\n\n'Granted,' replied the cat; 'but on condition that you find our watch.'\n\nThe fish executed his commission, and they brought the treasure back to\ntheir master. Jenik rubbed the watch and wished that the palace, with\nthe Princess and all its inhabitants, should be swallowed up in the sea.\nNo sooner said than done. Jenik returned to his parents, and he and his\nwatch, his cat and his dog, lived together happily to the end of their\ndays.\n\n Deulin.\n\n\n\n\n _ROSANELLA_\n\n\nEverybody knows that though the fairies live hundreds of years they do\nsometimes die, and especially as they are obliged to pass one day in\nevery week under the form of some animal, when of course they are liable\nto accident. It was in this way that death once overtook the Queen of\nthe Fairies, and it became necessary to call a general assembly to elect\na new sovereign. After much discussion, it appeared that the choice lay\nbetween two fairies, one called Surcantine and the other Paridamie; and\ntheir claims were so equal that it was impossible without injustice to\nprefer one to the other. Under these circumstances it was unanimously\ndecided that whichever of the two could show to the world the greatest\nwonder should be Queen; but it was to be a special kind of wonder, no\nmoving of mountains or any such common fairy tricks would do.\nSurcantine, therefore, resolved that she would bring up a Prince whom\nnothing could make constant. While Paridamie decided to display to\nadmiring mortals a Princess so charming that no one could see her\nwithout falling in love with her. They were allowed to take their own\ntime, and meanwhile the four oldest fairies were to attend to the\naffairs of the kingdom.\n\nNow Paridamie had for a long time been very friendly with King\nBardondon, who was a most accomplished Prince, and whose court was the\nmodel of what a court should be. His Queen, Balanice, was also charming;\nindeed it is rare to find a husband and wife so perfectly of one mind\nabout everything. They had one little daughter, whom they had named\n'Rosanella,' because she had a little pink rose printed upon her white\nthroat. From her earliest infancy she had shown the most astonishing\nintelligence, and the courtiers knew her smart sayings by heart, and\nrepeated them on all occasions. In the middle of the night following the\nassembly of fairies, Queen Balanice woke up with a shriek, and when her\nmaids of honour ran to see what was the matter, they found she had had a\nfrightful dream.\n\n'I thought,' said she, 'that my little daughter had changed into a\nbouquet of roses, and that as I held it in my hand a bird swooped down\nsuddenly and snatched it from me and carried it away.'\n\n'Let some one run and see that all is well with the Princess,' she\nadded.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nSo they ran; but what was their dismay when they found that the cradle\nwas empty; and though they sought high and low, not a trace of Rosanella\ncould they discover. The Queen was inconsolable, and so, indeed, was the\nKing, only being a man he did not say quite so much about his feelings.\nHe presently proposed to Balanice that they should spend a few days at\none of their palaces in the country; and to this she willingly agreed,\nsince her grief made the gaiety of the capital distasteful to her. One\nlovely summer evening, as they sat together on a shady lawn shaped like\na star, from which radiated twelve splendid avenues of trees, the Queen\nlooked round and saw a charming peasant-girl approaching by each path,\nand what was still more singular was that everyone carried something in\na basket which appeared to occupy her whole attention. As each drew near\nshe laid her basket at Balanice's feet, saying:\n\n'Charming Queen, may this be some slight consolation to you in your\nunhappiness!'\n\nThe Queen hastily opened the baskets, and found in each a lovely\nbaby-girl, about the same age as the little Princess for whom she\nsorrowed so deeply. At first the sight of them renewed her grief; but\npresently their charms so gained upon her that she forgot her melancholy\nin providing them with nursery-maids, cradle-rockers, and\nladies-in-waiting, and in sending hither and thither for swings and\ndolls and tops, and bushels of the finest sweetmeats.\n\nOddly enough, every baby had upon its throat a tiny pink rose. The Queen\nfound it so difficult to decide on suitable names for all of them, that\nuntil she could settle the matter she chose a special colour for\neveryone, by which it was known, so that when they were all together\nthey looked like nothing so much as a nosegay of gay flowers. As they\ngrew older it became evident that though they were all remarkably\nintelligent, and profited equally by the education they received, yet\nthey differed one from another in disposition, so much so that they\ngradually ceased to be known as 'Pearl,' or 'Primrose,' or whatever\nmight have been their colour, and the Queen instead would say:\n\n'Where is my Sweet?' or 'my Beautiful,' or 'my Gay.'\n\nOf course, with all these charms they had lovers by the dozen. Not only\nin their own court, but princes from afar, who were constantly arriving,\nattracted by the reports which were spread abroad; but these lovely\ngirls, the first Maids of Honour, were as discreet as they were\nbeautiful, and favoured no one.\n\nBut let us return to Surcantine. She had fixed upon the son of a king\nwho was cousin to Bardondon, to bring up as her fickle Prince. She had\nbefore, at his christening, given him all the graces of mind and body\nthat a prince could possibly require; but now she redoubled her efforts,\nand spared no pains in adding every imaginable charm and fascination. So\nthat whether he happened to be cross or amiable, splendidly or simply\nattired, serious or frivolous, he was always perfectly irresistible! In\ntruth, he was a charming young fellow, since the Fairy had given him the\nbest heart in the world as well as the best head, and had left nothing\nto be desired but--constancy. For it cannot be denied that Prince\nMirliflor was a desperate flirt, and as fickle as the wind; so much so,\nthat by the time he arrived at his eighteenth birthday there was not a\nheart left for him to conquer in his father's kingdom--they were all his\nown, and he was tired of everyone! Things were in this state when he was\ninvited to visit the court of his father's cousin, King Bardondon.\n\nImagine his feelings when he arrived and was presented at once to twelve\nof the loveliest creatures in the world, and his embarrassment was\nheightened by the fact that they all liked him as much as he liked each\none of them, so that things came to such a pass that he was never happy\na single instant without them. For could he not whisper soft speeches to\nSweet, and laugh with Joy, while he looked at Beauty? And in his more\nserious moments what could be pleasanter than to talk to Grave upon some\nshady lawn, while he held the hand of Loving in his own, and all the\nothers lingered near in sympathetic silence? For the first time in his\nlife he really loved, though the object of his devotion was not one\nperson, but twelve, to whom he was equally attached, and even Surcantine\nwas deceived into thinking that this was indeed the height of\ninconstancy. But Paridamie said not a word.\n\nIn vain did Prince Mirliflor's father write commanding him to return,\nand proposing for him one good match after another. Nothing in the world\ncould tear him from his twelve enchantresses.\n\nOne day the Queen gave a large garden-party, and just as the guests were\nall assembled, and Prince Mirliflor was as usual dividing his attentions\nbetween the twelve beauties, a humming of bees was heard. The\nRose-maidens, fearing their stings, uttered little shrieks, and fled all\ntogether to a distance from the rest of the company. Immediately, to the\nhorror of all who were looking on, the bees pursued them, and, growing\nsuddenly to an enormous size, pounced each upon a maiden and carried her\noff into the air, and in an instant they were all lost to view. This\namazing occurrence plunged the whole court into the deepest affliction,\nand Prince Mirliflor, after giving way to the most violent grief at\nfirst, fell gradually into a state of such deep dejection that it was\nfeared if nothing could rouse him he would certainly die. Surcantine\ncame in all haste to see what she could do for her darling, but he\nrejected with scorn all the portraits of lovely princesses which she\noffered him for his collection. In short, it was evident that he was in\na bad way, and the Fairy was at her wits' end. One day, as he wandered\nabout absorbed in melancholy reflections, he heard sudden shouts and\nexclamations of amazement, and if he had taken the trouble to look up he\ncould not have helped being as astonished as everyone else, for through\nthe air a chariot of crystal was slowly approaching which glittered in\nthe sunshine. Six lovely maidens with shining wings drew it by\nrose-coloured ribbons, while a whole flight of others, equally\nbeautiful, were holding long garlands of roses crossed above it, so as\nto form a complete canopy. In it sat the Fairy Paridamie, and by her\nside a Princess whose beauty positively dazzled all who saw her. At the\nfoot of the great staircase they descended, and proceeded to the Queen's\napartments, though everyone had run together to see this marvel, till it\nwas quite difficult to make a way through the crowd; and exclamations of\nwonder rose on all sides at the loveliness of the strange Princess.\n'Great Queen,' said Paridamie, 'permit me to restore to you your\ndaughter Rosanella, whom I stole out of her cradle.'\n\nAfter the first transports of joy were over the Queen said to Paridamie:\n\n'But my twelve lovely ones, are they lost to me for ever? Shall I never\nsee them again?'\n\nBut Paridamie only said:\n\n'Very soon you will cease to miss them!' in a tone that evidently meant\n'Don't ask me any more questions.' And then mounting again into her\nchariot she swiftly disappeared.\n\nThe news of his beautiful cousin's arrival was soon carried to the\nPrince, but he had hardly the heart to go and see her. However, it\nbecame absolutely necessary that he should pay his respects, and he had\nscarcely been five minutes in her presence before it seemed to him that\nshe combined in her own charming person all the gifts and graces which\nhad so attracted him in the twelve Rose-maidens whose loss he had so\ntruly mourned; and after all it is really more satisfactory to make love\nto one person at a time. So it came to pass that before he knew where he\nwas he was entreating his lovely cousin to marry him, and the moment the\nwords had left his lips, Paridamie appeared, smiling and triumphant, in\nthe chariot of the Queen of the Fairies, for by that time they had all\nheard of her success, and declared her to have earned the kingdom. She\nhad to give a full account of how she had stolen Rosanella from her\ncradle, and divided her character into twelve parts, that each might\ncharm Prince Mirliflor, and when once more united might cure him of his\ninconstancy once and for ever.\n\n[Illustration: THE PRINCESS CARRIED OFF BY THE BEES]\n\nAnd as one more proof of the fascination of the whole Rosanella, I may\ntell you that even the defeated Surcantine sent her a wedding gift, and\nwas present at the ceremony which took place as soon as the guests could\narrive. Prince Mirliflor was constant for the rest of his life. And\nindeed who would not have been in his place? As for Rosanella, she loved\nhim as much as all the twelve beauties put together, so they reigned in\npeace and happiness to the end of their long lives.\n\n By the Comte de Caylus.\n\n\n\n\n _SYLVAIN AND JOCOSA_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived in the same village two children, one\ncalled Sylvain and the other Jocosa, who were both remarkable for beauty\nand intelligence. It happened that their parents were not on terms of\nfriendship with one another, on account of some old quarrel, which had,\nhowever, taken place so long ago, that they had quite forgotten what it\nwas all about, and only kept up the feud from force of habit. Sylvain\nand Jocosa for their parts were far from sharing this enmity, and indeed\nwere never happy when apart. Day after day they fed their flocks of\nsheep together, and spent the long sunshiny hours in playing, or resting\nupon some shady bank. It happened one day that the Fairy of the Meadows\npassed by and saw them, and was so much attracted by their pretty faces\nand gentle manners that she took them under her protection, and the\nolder they grew the dearer they became to her. At first she showed her\ninterest by leaving in their favourite haunts many little gifts such as\nthey delighted to offer one to the other, for they loved each other so\nmuch that their first thought was always, 'What will Jocosa like?' or,\n'What will please Sylvain?' And the Fairy took a great delight in their\ninnocent enjoyment of the cakes and sweetmeats she gave them nearly\nevery day. When they were grown up she resolved to make herself known to\nthem, and chose a time when they were sheltering from the noonday sun in\nthe deep shade of a flowery hedgerow. They were startled at first by the\nsudden apparition of a tall and slender lady, dressed all in green, and\ncrowned with a garland of flowers. But when she spoke to them sweetly,\nand told them how she had always loved them, and that it was she who had\ngiven them all the pretty things which it had so surprised them to find,\nthey thanked her gratefully, and took pleasure in answering the\nquestions she put to them. When she presently bade them farewell, she\ntold them never to tell anyone else that they had seen her. 'You will\noften see me again,' added she, 'and I shall be with you frequently,\neven when you do not see me.' So saying she vanished, leaving them in a\nstate of great wonder and excitement. After this she came often, and\ntaught them numbers of things, and showed them many of the marvels of\nher beautiful kingdom, and at last one day she said to them, 'You know\nthat I have always been kind to you; now I think it is time you did\nsomething for me in your turn. You both remember the fountain I call my\nfavourite? Promise me that every morning before the sun rises you will\ngo to it and clear away every stone that impedes its course, and every\ndead leaf or broken twig that sullies its clear waters. I shall take it\nas a proof of your gratitude to me if you neither forget nor delay this\nduty, and I promise that so long as the sun's earliest rays find my\nfavourite spring the clearest and sweetest in all my meadows, you two\nshall not be parted from one another.'\n\n[Illustration]\n\nSylvain and Jocosa willingly undertook this service, and indeed felt\nthat it was but a very small thing in return for all that the fairy had\ngiven and promised to them. So for a long time the fountain was tended\nwith the most scrupulous care, and was the clearest and prettiest in all\nthe country round. But one morning in the spring, long before the sun\nrose, they were hastening towards it from opposite directions, when,\ntempted by the beauty of the myriads of gay flowers which grew thickly\non all sides, they paused each to gather some for the other.\n\n'I will make Sylvain a garland,' said Jocosa, and 'How pretty Jocosa\nwill look in this crown!' thought Svlvain.\n\nHither and thither they strayed, led ever farther and farther, for the\nbrightest flowers seemed always just beyond them, until at last they\nwere startled by the first bright rays of the rising sun. With one\naccord they turned and ran towards the fountain, reaching it at the same\nmoment, though from opposite sides. But what was their horror to see its\nusually tranquil waters seething and bubbling, and even as they looked\ndown rushed a mighty stream, which entirely engulfed it, and Sylvain and\nJocosa found themselves parted by a wide and swiftly-rushing river. All\nthis had happened with such rapidity that they had only time to utter a\ncry, and each to hold up to the other the flowers they had gathered; but\nthis was explanation enough. Twenty times did Sylvain throw himself into\nthe turbulent waters, hoping to be able to swim to the other side, but\neach time an irresistible force drove him back upon the bank he had just\nquitted, while, as for Jocosa, she even essayed to cross the flood upon\na tree which came floating down torn up by the roots, but her efforts\nwere equally useless. Then with heavy hearts they set out to follow the\ncourse of the stream, which had now grown so wide that it was only with\ndifficulty they could distinguish each other. Night and day, over\nmountains and through valleys, in cold or in heat, they struggled on,\nenduring fatigue and hunger and every hardship, and consoled only by the\nhope of meeting once more--until three years had passed, and at last\nthey stood upon the cliffs where the river flowed into the mighty sea.\n\nAnd now they seemed farther apart than ever, and in despair they tried\nonce more to throw themselves into the foaming waves. But the Fairy of\nthe Meadows, who had really never ceased to watch over them, did not\nintend that they should be drowned at last, so she hastily waved her\nwand, and immediately they found themselves standing side by side upon\nthe golden sand. You may imagine their joy and delight when they\nrealised that their weary struggle was ended, and their utter\ncontentment as they clasped each other by the hand. They had so much to\nsay that they hardly knew where to begin, but they agreed in blaming\nthemselves bitterly for the negligence which had caused all their\ntrouble; and when she heard this the Fairy immediately appeared to them.\nThey threw themselves at her feet and implored her forgiveness, which\nshe granted freely, and promised at the same time that now their\npunishment was ended she would always befriend them. Then she sent for\nher chariot of green rushes, ornamented with May dew-drops, which she\nparticularly valued and always collected with great care; and ordered\nher six short-tailed moles to carry them all back to the well-known\npastures, which they did in a remarkably short time; and Sylvain and\nJocosa were overjoyed to see their dearly-loved home once more after all\ntheir toilful wanderings. The Fairy, who had set her mind upon securing\ntheir happiness, had in their absence quite made up the quarrel between\ntheir parents, and gained their consent to the marriage of the faithful\nlovers; and now she conducted them to the most charming little cottage\nthat can be imagined, close to the fountain, which had once more resumed\nits peaceful aspect, and flowed gently down into the little brook which\nenclosed the garden and orchard and pasture which belonged to the\ncottage. Indeed, nothing more could have been thought of, either for\nSylvain and Jocosa or for their flocks; and their delight satisfied even\nthe Fairy who had planned it all to please them. When they had explored\nand admired until they were tired they sat down to rest under the\nrose-covered porch, and the Fairy said that to pass the time until the\nwedding guests whom she had invited could arrive she would tell them a\nstory. This is it:\n\n\n The Yellow Bird\n\nOnce upon a time a Fairy, who had somehow or other got into mischief,\nwas condemned by the High Court of Fairyland to live for several years\nunder the form of some creature, and at the moment of resuming her\nnatural appearance once again to make the fortune of two men. It was\nleft to her to choose what form she would take, and because she loved\nyellow she transformed herself into a lovely bird with shining golden\nfeathers such as no one had ever seen before. When the time of her\npunishment was at an end the beautiful yellow bird flew to Bagdad, and\nlet herself be caught by a Fowler at the precise moment when\nBadi-al-Zaman was walking up and down outside his magnificent summer\npalace. This Badi-al-Zaman--whose name means 'Wonder-of-the-World'--was\nlooked upon in Bagdad as the most fortunate creature under the sun,\nbecause of his vast wealth. But really, what with anxiety about his\nriches and being weary of everything, and always desiring something he\nhad not, he never knew a moment's real happiness. Even now he had come\nout of his palace, which was large and splendid enough for fifty kings,\nweary and cross because he could find nothing new to amuse him. The\nFowler thought that this would be a favourable opportunity for offering\nhim the marvellous bird, which he felt certain he would buy the instant\nhe saw it. And he was not mistaken, for when Badi-al-Zaman took the\nlovely prisoner into his own hands, he saw written under its right wing\nthe words, 'He who eats my head will become a king,' and under its left\nwing, 'He who eats my heart will find a hundred gold pieces under his\npillow every morning.' In spite of all his wealth he at once began to\ndesire the promised gold, and the bargain was soon completed. Then the\ndifficulty arose as to how the bird was to be cooked; for among all his\narmy of servants not one could Badi-al-Zaman trust. At last he asked the\nFowler if he were married, and on hearing that he was he bade him take\nthe bird home with him and tell his wife to cook it.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n'Perhaps,' said he, 'this will give me an appetite, which I have not had\nfor many a long day, and if so your wife shall have a hundred pieces of\nsilver.'\n\nThe Fowler with great joy ran home to his wife, who speedily made a\nsavoury stew of the Yellow Bird. But when Badi-al-Zaman reached the\ncottage and began eagerly to search in the dish for its head and its\nheart he could not find either of them, and turned to the Fowler's wife\nin a furious rage. She was so terrified that she fell upon her knees\nbefore him and confessed that her two children had come in just before\nhe arrived, and had so teased her for some of the dish she was preparing\nthat she had presently given the head to one and the heart to the other,\nsince these morsels are not generally much esteemed; and Badi-al-Zaman\nrushed from the cottage vowing vengeance against the whole family. The\nwrath of a rich man is generally to be feared, so the Fowler and his\nwife resolved to send their children out of harm's way; but the wife, to\nconsole her husband, confided to him that she had purposely given them\nthe head and heart of the bird because she had been able to read what\nwas written under its wings. So, believing that their children's\nfortunes were made, they embraced them and sent them forth, bidding them\nget as far away as possible, to take different roads, and to send news\nof their welfare. For themselves, they remained hidden and disguised in\nthe town, which was really rather clever of them; but very soon\nafterwards Badi-al-Zaman died of vexation and annoyance at the loss of\nthe promised treasure, and then they went back to their cottage to wait\nfor news of their children. The younger, who had eaten the heart of the\nYellow Bird, very soon found out what it had done for him, for each\nmorning when he awoke he found a purse containing a hundred gold pieces\nunder his pillow. But, as all poor people may remember for their\nconsolation, nothing in the world causes so much trouble or requires so\nmuch care as a great treasure. Consequently, the Fowler's son, who spent\nwith reckless profusion and was supposed to be possessed of a great\nhoard of gold, was before very long attacked by robbers, and in trying\nto defend himself was so badly wounded that he died.\n\nThe elder brother, who had eaten the Yellow Bird's head, travelled a\nlong way without meeting with any particular adventure, until at last he\nreached a large city in Asia, which was all in an uproar over the\nchoosing of a new Emir. All the principal citizens had formed themselves\ninto two parties, and it was not until after a prolonged squabble that\nthey agreed that the person to whom the most singular thing happened\nshould be Emir. Our young traveller entered the town at this juncture,\nwith his agreeable face and jaunty air, and all at once felt something\nalight upon his head, which proved to be a snow-white pigeon. Thereupon\nall the people began to stare, and to run after him, so that he\npresently reached the palace with the pigeon upon his head and all the\ninhabitants of the city at his heels, and before he knew where he was\nthey made him Emir, to his great astonishment.\n\nAs there is nothing more agreeable than to command, and nothing to which\npeople get accustomed more quickly, the young Emir soon felt quite at\nhis ease in his new position; but this did not prevent him from making\nevery kind of mistake, and so misgoverning the kingdom that at last the\nwhole city rose in revolt and deprived him at once of his authority and\nhis life--a punishment which he richly deserved, for in the days of his\nprosperity he disowned the Fowler and his wife, and allowed them to die\nin poverty.\n\n'I have told you this story, my dear Sylvain and Jocosa,' added the\nFairy, 'to prove to you that this little cottage and all that belongs to\nit is a gift more likely to bring you happiness and contentment than\nmany things that would at first seem grander and more desirable. If you\nwill faithfully promise me to till your fields and feed your flocks,\nand will keep your word better than you did before, I will see that you\nnever lack anything that is really for your good.'\n\nSylvain and Jocosa gave their faithful promise, and as they kept it they\nalways enjoyed peace and prosperity. The Fairy had asked all their\nfriends and neighbours to their wedding, which took place at once with\ngreat festivities and rejoicings, and they lived to a good old age,\nalways loving one another with all their hearts.\n\n By the Comte de Caylus.\n\n\n\n\n _FAIRY GIFTS_\n\n\nIt generally happens that people's surroundings reflect more or less\naccurately their minds and dispositions, so perhaps that is why the\nFlower Fairy lived in a lovely palace, with the most delightful garden\nyou can imagine, full of flowers, and trees, and fountains, and\nfish-ponds, and everything nice. For the Fairy herself was so kind and\ncharming that everybody loved her, and all the young princes and\nprincesses who formed her court, were as happy as the day was long,\nsimply because they were near her. They came to her when they were quite\ntiny, and never left her until they were grown up and had to go away\ninto the great world; and when that time came she gave to each whatever\ngift he asked of her. But it is chiefly of the Princess Sylvia that you\nare going to hear now. The Fairy loved her with all her heart, for she\nwas at once original and gentle, and she had nearly reached the age at\nwhich the gifts were generally bestowed. However, the Fairy had a great\nwish to know how the other princesses who had grown up and left her,\nwere prospering, and before the time came for Sylvia to go herself, she\nresolved to send her to some of them. So one day her chariot, drawn by\nbutterflies, was made ready, and the Fairy said: 'Sylvia, I am going to\nsend you to the court of Iris; she will receive you with pleasure for my\nsake as well as for your own. In two months you may come back to me\nagain, and I shall expect you to tell me what you think of her.'\n\nSylvia was very unwilling to go away, but as the Fairy wished it she\nsaid nothing--only when the two months were over she stepped joyfully\ninto the butterfly chariot, and could not get back quickly enough to the\nFlower-Fairy, who, for her part, was equally delighted to see her again.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n'Now, child,' said she, 'tell me what impression you have received.'\n\n'You sent me, madam,' answered Sylvia, 'to the Court of Iris, on whom\nyou had bestowed the gift of beauty. She never tells anyone, however,\nthat it was your gift, though she often speaks of your kindness in\ngeneral. It seemed to me that her loveliness, which fairly dazzled me at\nfirst, had absolutely deprived her of the use of any of her other gifts\nor graces. In allowing herself to be seen, she appeared to think that\nshe was doing all that could possibly be required of her. But,\nunfortunately, while I was still with her she became seriously ill, and\nthough she presently recovered, her beauty is entirely gone, so that she\nhates the very sight of herself, and is in despair. She entreated me to\ntell you what had happened, and to beg you, in pity, to give her beauty\nback to her. And, indeed, she does need it terribly, for all the things\nin her that were tolerable, and even agreeable, when she was so pretty,\nseem quite different now she is ugly, and it is so long since she\nthought of using her mind or her natural cleverness, that I really don't\nthink she has any left now. She is quite aware of all this herself, so\nyou may imagine how unhappy she is, and how earnestly she begs for your\naid.'\n\n'You have told me what I wanted to know,' cried the Fairy, 'but alas! I\ncannot help her; my gifts can be given but once.'\n\nSome time passed in all the usual delights of the Flower-Fairy's palace,\nand then she sent for Sylvia again, and told her she was to stay for a\nlittle while with the Princess Daphne, and accordingly the butterflies\nwhisked her off, and set her down in quite a strange kingdom. But she\nhad only been there a very little time before a wandering butterfly\nbrought a message from her to the Fairy, begging that she might be sent\nfor as soon as possible, and before very long she was allowed to return.\n\n'Ah! madam,' cried she, 'what a place you sent me to that time!'\n\n'Why, what was the matter?' asked the Fairy. 'Daphne was one of the\nprincesses who asked for the gift of eloquence, if I remember rightly.'\n\n'And very ill the gift of eloquence becomes a woman,' replied Sylvia,\nwith an air of conviction. 'It is true that she speaks well, and her\nexpressions are well chosen; but then she never leaves off talking, and\nthough at first one may be amused, one ends by being wearied to death.\nAbove all things she loves any assembly for settling the affairs of her\nkingdom, for on those occasions she can talk and talk without fear of\ninterruption; but, even then, the moment it is over she is ready to\nbegin again about anything or nothing, as the case may be. Oh! how glad\nI was to come away I cannot tell you.'\n\nThe Fairy smiled at Sylvia's unfeigned disgust at her late experience;\nbut after allowing her a little time to recover she sent her to the\nCourt of the Princess Cynthia, where she left her for three months. At\nthe end of that time Sylvia came back to her with all the joy and\ncontentment that one feels at being once more beside a dear friend. The\nFairy, as usual, was anxious to hear what she thought of Cynthia, who\nhad always been amiable, and to whom she had given the gift of pleasing.\n\n'I thought at first,' said Sylvia, 'that she must be the happiest\nPrincess in the world; she had a thousand lovers who vied with one\nanother in their efforts to please and gratify her. Indeed, I had nearly\ndecided that I would ask a similar gift.'\n\n'Have you altered your mind, then?' interrupted the Fairy.\n\n'Yes, indeed, madam,' replied Sylvia; 'and I will tell you why. The\nlonger I stayed the more I saw that Cynthia was not really happy. In her\ndesire to please everyone she ceased to be sincere, and degenerated\ninto a mere coquette; and even her lovers felt that the charms and\nfascinations which were exercised upon all who approached her without\ndistinction were valueless, so that in the end they ceased to care for\nthem, and went away disdainfully.'\n\n'I am pleased with you, child,' said the Fairy; 'enjoy yourself here for\nawhile and presently you shall go to Phyllida.'\n\nSylvia was glad to have leisure to think, for she could not make up her\nmind at all what she should ask for herself, and the time was drawing\nvery near. However, before very long the Fairy sent her to Phyllida, and\nwaited for her report with unabated interest.\n\n'I reached her court safely,' said Sylvia, 'and she received me with\nmuch kindness, and immediately began to exercise upon me that brilliant\nwit which you had bestowed upon her. I confess that I was fascinated by\nit, and for a week thought that nothing could be more desirable; the\ntime passed like magic, so great was the charm of her society. But I\nended by ceasing to covet that gift more than any of the others I have\nseen, for, like the gift of pleasing, it cannot really give\nsatisfaction. By degrees I wearied of what had so delighted me at first,\nespecially as I perceived more and more plainly that it is impossible to\nbe constantly smart and amusing without being frequently ill-natured,\nand too apt to turn all things, even the most serious, into mere\noccasions for a brilliant jest.'\n\nThe Fairy in her heart agreed with Sylvia's conclusions, and felt\npleased with herself for having brought her up so well.\n\nBut now the time was come for Sylvia to receive her gift, and all her\ncompanions were assembled; the Fairy stood in the midst and in the usual\nmanner asked what she would take with her into the great world.\n\nSylvia paused for a moment, and then answered: 'A quiet spirit.' And the\nFairy granted her request.\n\nThis lovely gift makes life a constant happiness to its possessor, and\nto all who are brought into contact with her. She has all the beauty of\ngentleness and contentment in her sweet face; and if at times it seems\nless lovely through some chance grief or disquietude, the hardest thing\nthat one ever hears said is:\n\n'Sylvia's dear face is pale to-day. It grieves one to see her so.'\n\nAnd when, on the contrary, she is gay and joyful, the sunshine of her\npresence rejoices all who have the happiness of being near her.\n\n By the Comte de Caylus.\n\n\n\n\n _PRINCE NARCISSUS AND THE PRINCESS POTENTILLA_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a King and Queen who, though it is a very\nlong while since they died, were much the same in their tastes and\npursuits as people nowadays. The King, who was called Cloverleaf, liked\nhunting better than anything else; but he nevertheless bestowed as much\ncare upon his kingdom as he felt equal to--that is to say, he never made\nan end of folding and unfolding the State documents. As to the Queen,\nshe had once been very pretty, and she liked to believe that she was so\nstill, which is, of course, always made quite easy for queens. Her name\nwas Frivola, and her one occupation in life was the pursuit of\namusement. Balls, masquerades, and picnics followed one another in rapid\nsuccession, as fast as she could arrange them, and you may imagine that\nunder these circumstances the kingdom was somewhat neglected. As a\nmatter of fact, if anyone had a fancy for a town, or a province, he\nhelped himself to it; but as long as the King had his horses and dogs,\nand the Queen her musicians and her actors, they did not trouble\nthemselves about the matter. King Cloverleaf and Queen Frivola had but\none child, and this Princess had from her very babyhood been so\nbeautiful, that by the time she was four years old the Queen was\ndesperately jealous of her, and so fearful that when she was grown up\nshe would be more admired than herself, that she resolved to keep her\nhidden away out of sight. To this end she caused a little house to be\nbuilt not far beyond the Palace gardens, on the bank of a river. This\nwas surrounded by a high wall, and in it the charming Potentilla was\nimprisoned. Her nurse, who was dumb, took care of her, and the\nnecessaries of life were conveyed to her through a little window in the\nwall, while guards were always pacing to and fro outside, with orders to\ncut off the head of anyone who tried to approach, which they would\ncertainly have done without thinking twice about it. The Queen told\neveryone, with much pretended sorrow, that the Princess was so ugly, and\nso troublesome, and altogether so impossible to love, that to keep her\nout of sight was the only thing that could be done for her. And this\ntale she repeated so often, that at last the whole court believed it.\nThings were in this state, and the Princess was about fifteen years old\nwhen Prince Narcissus, attracted by the report of Queen Frivola's gay\ndoings, presented himself at the court. He was not much older than the\nPrincess, and was as handsome a Prince as you would see in a day's\njourney, and really, for his age, not so very scatter-brained. His\nparents were a King and Queen, whose story you will perhaps read some\nday. They died almost at the same time, leaving their kingdom to the\neldest of their children, and commending their youngest son, Prince\nNarcissus, to the care of the Fairy Melinette. In this they did very\nwell for him, for the Fairy was as kind as she was powerful, and she\nspared no pains in teaching the little Prince everything it was good for\nhim to know, and even imparted to him some of her own Fairy lore. But as\nsoon as he was grown up she sent him out to see the world for himself,\nthough all the time she was secretly keeping watch over him, ready to\nhelp in any time of need. Before he started she gave him a ring which\nwould render him invisible when he put it on his finger. These rings\nseem to be quite common; you must often have heard of them, even if you\nhave never seen one. It was in the course of the Prince's wanderings, in\nsearch of experience of men and things, that he came to the court of\nQueen Frivola, where he was extremely well received. The Queen was\ndelighted with him, so were all her ladies; and the King was very polite\nto him, though he did not quite see why the whole court was making such\na fuss over him.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nPrince Narcissus enjoyed all that went on, and found the time pass very\npleasantly. Before long, of course, he heard the story about the\nPrincess Potentilla, and, as it had by that time been repeated many\ntimes, and had been added to here and there, she was represented as such\na monster of ugliness that he was really quite curious to see her, and\nresolved to avail himself of the magic power of his ring to accomplish\nhis design. So he made himself invisible, and passed the guard without\ntheir so much as suspecting that anyone was near. Climbing the wall was\nrather a difficulty, but when he at length found himself inside it he\nwas charmed with the peaceful beauty of the little domain it enclosed,\nand still more delighted when he perceived a slender, lovely maiden\nwandering among the flowers. It was not until he had sought vainly for\nthe imaginary monster that he realised that this was the Princess\nherself, and by that time he was deeply in love with her, for indeed it\nwould have been hard to find anyone prettier than Potentilla, as she sat\nby the brook, weaving a garland of blue forget-me-nots to crown her\nwaving golden locks, or to imagine anything more gentle than the way she\ntended all the birds and beasts who inhabited her small kingdom, and who\nall loved and followed her. Prince Narcissus watched her every movement,\nand hovered near her in a dream of delight, not daring as yet to appear\nto her, so humble had he suddenly become in her presence. And when\nevening came, and the nurse fetched the Princess into her little house,\nhe felt obliged to go back to Frivola's palace, for fear his absence\nshould be noticed and someone should discover his new treasure. But he\nforgot that to go back absent, and dreamy, and indifferent, when he had\nbefore been gay and ardent about everything, was the surest way of\nawakening suspicion; and when, in response to the jesting questions\nwhich were put to him upon the subject, he only blushed and returned\nevasive answers, all the ladies were certain that he had lost his heart,\nand did their utmost to discover who was the happy possessor of it. As\nto the Prince, he was becoming day by day more attached to Potentilla,\nand his one thought was to attend her, always invisible, and help her in\neverything she did, and provide her with everything that could possibly\namuse or please her. And the Princess, who had learnt to find diversion\nin very small things in her quiet life, was in a continual state of\ndelight over the treasures which the Prince constantly laid where she\nmust find them. Then Narcissus implored his faithful friend Melinette to\nsend the Princess such dreams of him as should make her recognise him as\na friend when he actually appeared before her eyes; and this device was\nso successful that the Princess quite dreaded the cessation of these\namusing dreams, in which a certain Prince Narcissus was such a\ndelightful lover and companion. After that he went a step further and\nbegan to have long talks with the Princess--still, however, keeping\nhimself invisible, until she begged him so earnestly to appear to her\nthat he could no longer resist, and after making her promise that, no\nmatter what he was like, she would still love him, he drew the ring from\nhis finger, and the Princess saw with delight that he was as handsome as\nhe was agreeable. Now, indeed, they were perfectly happy, and they\npassed the whole long summer day in Potentilla's favourite place by the\nbrook, and when at last Prince Narcissus had to leave her it seemed to\nthem both that the hours had gone by with the most amazing swiftness.\nThe Princess stayed where she was, dreaming of her delightful Prince,\nand nothing could have been further from her thoughts than any trouble\nor misfortune, when suddenly, in a cloud of dust and shavings, by came\nthe enchanter Grumedan, and unluckily he chanced to catch sight of\nPotentilla. Down he came straightway and alighted at her feet, and one\nlook at her charming blue eyes and smiling lips quite decided him that\nhe must appear to her at once, though he was rather annoyed to remember\nthat he had on only his second-best cloak. The Princess sprang to her\nfeet with a cry of terror at this sudden apparition, for really the\nEnchanter was no beauty. To begin with, he was very big and clumsy, then\nhe had but one eye, and his teeth were long, and he stammered badly;\nnevertheless, he had an excellent opinion of himself, and mistook the\nPrincess's cry of terror for an exclamation of delighted surprise. After\npausing a moment to give her time to admire him, the Enchanter made her\nthe most complimentary speech he could invent, which, however, did not\nplease her at all, though he was extremely delighted with it himself.\nPoor Potentilla only shuddered and cried:\n\n'Oh! where is my Narcissus?'\n\nTo which he replied with a self-satisfied chuckle: 'You want a\nnarcissus, madam? Well, they are not rare; you shall have as many as you\nlike.'\n\nWhereupon he waved his wand, and the Princess found herself surrounded\nand half buried in the fragrant flowers. She would certainly have\nbetrayed that this was not the kind of narcissus she wanted, but for the\nFairy Melinette, who had been anxiously watching the interview, and now\nthought it quite time to interfere. Assuming the Prince's voice, she\nwhispered in Potentilla's ear:\n\n'We are menaced by a great danger, but my only fear is for you, my\nPrincess. Therefore I beg you to hide what you really feel, and we will\nhope that some way out of the difficulty may present itself.'\n\nThe Princess was much agitated by this speech, and feared lest the\nEnchanter should have overheard it; but he had been loudly calling her\nattention to the flowers, and chuckling over his own smartness in\ngetting them for her; and it was rather a blow to him when she said very\ncoldly that they were not the sort she preferred, and she would be glad\nif he would send them all away. This he did, but afterwards wished to\nkiss the Princess's hand as a reward for having been so obliging; but\nthe Fairy Melinette was not going to allow anything of that kind. She\nappeared suddenly, in all her splendour, and cried:\n\n'Stay, Grumedan; this Princess is under my protection, and the smallest\nimpertinence will cost you a thousand years of captivity. If you can win\nPotentilla's heart by the ordinary methods I cannot oppose you, but I\nwarn you that I will not put up with any of your usual tricks.'\n\nThis declaration was not at all to the Enchanter's taste; but he knew\nthat there was no help for it, and that he would have to behave well,\nand pay the Princess all the delicate attentions he could think of,\nthough they were not at all the sort of thing he was used to. However,\nhe decided that to win such a beauty it was quite worth while; and\nMelinette, feeling that she could now leave the Princess in safety,\nhurried off to tell Prince Narcissus what was going forward. Of course,\nat the very mention of the Enchanter as a rival he was furious, and I\ndon't know what foolish things he would not have done if Melinette had\nnot been there to calm him down. She represented to him what a powerful\nenchanter Grumedan was, and how, if he were provoked, he might avenge\nhimself upon the Princess, since he was the most unjust and churlish of\nall the enchanters, and had often before had to be punished by the Fairy\nQueen for some of his ill-deeds. Once he had been imprisoned in a tree,\nand was only released when it was blown down by a furious wind; another\ntime he was condemned to stay under a big stone at the bottom of a\nriver, until by some chance the stone should be turned over; but nothing\ncould ever really improve him. The Fairy finally made Narcissus promise\nthat he would remain invisible when he was with the Princess, since she\nfelt sure that this would make things easier for all of them. Then began\na struggle between Grumedan and the Prince, the latter under the name of\nMelinette, as to which could best delight and divert the Princess and\nwin her approbation. Prince Narcissus first made friends with all the\nbirds in Potentilla's little domain, and taught them to sing her name\nand her praises, with all their sweetest trills and most touching\nmelodies, and all day long to tell her how dearly he loved her.\nGrumedan, thereupon, declared that there was nothing new about that,\nsince the birds had sung since the world began, and all lovers had\nimagined that they sang for them alone. Therefore he said he would\nhimself write an opera that should be absolutely a novelty and something\nworth hearing. When the time came for the performance (which lasted five\nweary hours) the Princess found to her dismay that the 'opera' consisted\nof this more than indifferent verse, chanted with all their might by ten\nthousand frogs:\n\n 'Admirable Potentilla,\n Do you think it kind or wise\n In this sudden way to kill a\n Poor Enchanter with your eyes?'\n\nReally, if Narcissus had not been there to whisper in her ear and divert\nher attention, I don't know what would have become of poor Potentilla,\nfor though the first repetition of this absurdity amused her faintly,\nshe nearly died of weariness before the time was over. Luckily Grumedan\ndid not perceive this, as he was too much occupied in whipping up the\nfrogs, many of whom perished miserably from fatigue, since he did not\nallow them to rest for a moment. The Prince's next idea for Potentilla's\namusement was to cause a fleet of boats exactly like those of Cleopatra,\nof which you have doubtless read in history, to come up the little\nriver, and upon the most gorgeously decorated of these reclined the\ngreat Queen herself, who, as soon as she reached the place where\nPotentilla sat in rapt attention, stepped majestically on shore and\npresented the Princess with that celebrated pearl of which you have\nheard so much, saying:\n\n'You are more beautiful than I ever was. Let my example warn you to make\na better use of your beauty!'\n\nAnd then the little fleet sailed on, until it was lost to view in the\nwindings of the river. Grumedan was also looking on at the spectacle,\nand said very contemptuously:\n\n'I cannot say I think these marionettes amusing. What a to-do to make\nover a single pearl! But if you like pearls, madam, why, _I_ will soon\ngratify you.'\n\nSo saying, he drew a whistle from his pocket, and no sooner had he blown\nit than the Princess saw the water of the river bubble and grow muddy,\nand in another instant up came hundreds of thousands of great oysters,\nwho climbed slowly and laboriously towards her and laid at her feet all\nthe pearls they contained.\n\n'Those are what I call pearls,' cried Grumedan in high glee. And truly\nthere were enough of them to pave every path in Potentilla's garden and\nleave some to spare! The next day Prince Narcissus had prepared for the\nPrincess's pleasure a charming arbour of leafy branches, with couches of\nmoss and grassy floor and garlands everywhere, with her name written in\ndifferent-coloured blossoms. Here he caused a dainty little banquet to\nbe set forth, while hidden musicians played softly, and the silvery\nfountains splashed down into their marble basins, and when presently the\nmusic stopped a single nightingale broke the stillness with his\ndelicious chant.\n\n'Ah!' cried the Princess, recognising the voice of one of her\nfavourites, 'Philomel, my sweet one, who taught you that new song?'\n\nAnd he answered: 'Love, my Princess.'\n\nMeanwhile the Enchanter was very ill-pleased with the entertainment,\nwhich he declared was dullness itself.\n\n'You don't seem to have any idea in these parts beyond little squeaking\nbirds!' said he. 'And fancy giving a banquet without so much as an ounce\nof plate!'\n\nSo the next day, when the Princess went out into her garden, there stood\na summer-house built of solid gold, decorated within and without with\nher initials and the Enchanter's combined. And in it was spread an\nenormous repast, while the table so glittered with golden cups and\nplates, flagons and dishes, candlesticks and a hundred other things\nbeside, that it was hardly possible to look steadily at it. The\nEnchanter ate like six ogres, but the Princess could not touch a morsel.\nPresently Grumedan remarked with a grin:\n\n'I have provided neither musicians nor singers; but as you seem fond of\nmusic I will sing to you myself.'\n\nWhereupon he began, with a voice like a screech-owl's, to chant the\nwords of his 'opera,' only this time happily not at such a length, and\nwithout the frog accompaniment. After this the Prince again asked the\naid of his friends the birds, and when they had assembled from all the\ncountry round he tied about the neck of each one a tiny lamp of some\nbrilliant colour, and when darkness fell he made them go through a\nhundred pretty tricks before the delighted Potentilla, who clapped her\nlittle hands with delight when she saw her own name traced in points of\nlight against the dark trees, or when the whole flock of sparks grouped\nthemselves into bouquets of different colours, like living flowers.\nGrumedan leaning back in his arm-chair, with one knee crossed over the\nother and his nose in the air, looked on disdainfully.\n\n'Oh! if you like fireworks, Princess,' said he; and the next night all\nthe will-o'-the-wisps in the country came and danced on the plain, which\ncould be seen from the Princess's windows, and as she was looking out,\nand rather enjoying the sight, up sprang a frightful volcano, pouring\nout smoke and flames which terrified her greatly, to the intense\namusement of the Enchanter, who laughed like a pack of wolves\nquarrelling. After this, as many of the will-o'-the-wisps as could get\nin crowded into Potentilla's garden, and by their light the tall\nyew-trees danced minuets until the Princess was weary and begged to be\nexcused from looking at anything more that night. But, in spite of\nPotentilla's efforts to behave politely to the tiresome old Enchanter,\nwhom she detested, he could not help seeing that he failed to please\nher, and then he began to suspect very strongly that she must love\nsomeone else, and that somebody besides Melinette was responsible for\nall the festivities he had witnessed. So after much consideration he\ndevised a plan for finding out the truth. He went to the Princess\nsuddenly, and announced that he was most unwillingly forced to leave\nher, and had come to bid her farewell. Potentilla could scarcely hide\nher delight when she heard this, and his back was hardly turned before\nshe was entreating Prince Narcissus to make himself visible once more.\nThe poor Prince had been getting quite thin with anxiety and annoyance,\nand was only too delighted to comply with her request. They greeted one\nanother rapturously, and were just sitting down to talk over everything\ncosily, and enjoy the Enchanter's discomfiture together, when out he\nburst in a fury from behind a bush. With his huge club he aimed a\nterrific blow at Narcissus, which must certainly have killed him but for\nthe adroitness of the Fairy Melinette, who arrived upon the scene just\nin time to snatch him up and carry him off at lightning speed to her\ncastle in the air. Poor Potentilla, however, had not the comfort of\nknowing this, for at the sight of the Enchanter threatening her beloved\nPrince she had given one shriek and fallen back insensible. When she\nrecovered her senses she was more than ever convinced that he was dead,\nsince even Melinette was no longer near her, and no one was left to\ndefend her from the odious old Enchanter.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTo make matters worse, he seemed to be in a very bad temper, and came\nblustering and raging at the poor Princess.\n\n'I tell you what it is, madam,' said he: 'whether you love this\nwhipper-snapper Prince or not doesn't matter in the least. You are going\nto marry me, so you may as well make up your mind to it; and I am going\naway this very minute to make all the arrangements. But in case you\nshould get into mischief in my absence, I think I had better put you to\nsleep.'\n\nSo saying, he waved his wand over her, and in spite of her utmost\nefforts to keep awake she sank into a profound and dreamless slumber.\n\nAs he wished to make what he considered a suitable entry into the King's\npalace, he stepped outside the Princess's little domain, and mounted\nupon an immense chariot with great solid wheels, and shafts like the\ntrunk of an oak-tree, but all of solid gold. This was drawn with great\ndifficulty by forty-eight strong oxen; and the Enchanter reclined at his\nease, leaning upon his huge club, and holding carelessly upon his knee a\ntawny African lion, as if it had been a little lapdog. It was about\nseven o'clock in the morning when this extraordinary chariot reached the\npalace gates; the King was already astir, and about to set off on a\nhunting expedition; as for the Queen, she had only just gone off into\nher first sleep, and it would have been a bold person indeed who\nventured to wake her.\n\nThe King was greatly annoyed at having to stay and see a visitor at such\na time, and pulled off his hunting boots again with many grimaces.\nMeantime the Enchanter was stumping about in the hall, crying:\n\n'Where is this King? Let him be told that I must see him and his wife\nalso.'\n\nThe King, who was listening at the top of the staircase, thought this\nwas not very polite; however, he took counsel with his favourite\nhuntsman, and, following his advice, presently went down to see what was\nwanted of him. He was struck with astonishment at the sight of the\nchariot, and was gazing at it, when the Enchanter strode up to him,\nexclaiming:\n\n'Shake hands, Cloverleaf, old fellow! Don't you know me?'\n\n'No, I can't say I do,' replied the King, somewhat embarrassed.\n\n'Why, I am Grumedan, the Enchanter,' said he, 'and I am come to make\nyour fortune. Let us come in and talk things over a bit.'\n\nThereupon he ordered the oxen to go about their business, and they\nbounded off like stags, and were out of sight in a moment. Then, with\none blow of his club, he changed the massive chariot into a perfect\nmountain of gold pieces.\n\n'Those are for your lackeys,' said he to the King, 'that they may drink\nmy health.'\n\nNaturally a great scramble ensued, and at last the laughter and shouting\nawoke the Queen, who rang for her maids to ask the reason of such an\nunwonted hurly-burly. When they said that a visitor was asking for her,\nand then proceeded each one to tell breathlessly a different tale of\nwonder, in which she could only distinguish the words, 'oxen,' 'gold,'\n'club,' 'giant,' 'lion,' she thought they were all out of their minds.\nMeanwhile the King was asking the Enchanter to what he was indebted for\nthe honour of this visit, and on his replying that he would not say\nuntil the Queen was also present, messenger after messenger was\ndispatched to her to beg her immediate attendance. But Frivola was in a\nvery bad humour at having been so unceremoniously awakened, and declared\nthat she had a pain in her little finger, and that nothing should induce\nher to come.\n\nWhen the Enchanter heard this he insisted that she must come.\n\n'Take my club to her Majesty,' said he, 'and tell her that if she smells\nthe end of it she will find it wonderfully reviving.'\n\nSo four of the King's strongest men-at-arms staggered off with it; and\nafter some persuasion the Queen consented to try this novel remedy. She\nhad hardly smelt it for an instant when she declared herself to be\nperfectly restored; but whether that was due to the scent of the wood or\nto the fact that as soon as she touched it out fell a perfect shower of\nmagnificent jewels, I leave you to decide. At any rate, she was now all\neagerness to see the mysterious stranger, and hastily throwing on her\nroyal mantle, popped her second-best diamond crown over her night-cap,\nput a liberal dab of rouge upon each cheek, and holding up her largest\nfan before her nose--for she was not used to appearing in broad\ndaylight--she went mincing into the great hall. The Enchanter waited\nuntil the King and Queen had seated themselves upon their throne, and\nthen, taking his place between them, he began solemnly:\n\n[Illustration: GRUMEDAN'S LION FETCHES IN THE PRINCESS]\n\n'My name is Grumedan. I am an extremely well-connected Enchanter; my\npower is immense. In spite of all this, the charms of your daughter\nPotentilla have so fascinated me that I cannot live without her. She\nfancies that she loves a certain contemptible puppy called Narcissus;\nbut I have made very short work with him. I really do not care whether\nyou consent to my marriage with your daughter or not, but I am bound to\nask your consent, on account of a certain meddling Fairy called\nMelinette, with whom I have reason for wishing to keep on good terms.'\n\nThe King and Queen were somewhat embarrassed to know what answer to make\nto this terrible suitor, but at last they asked for time to talk over\nthe matter: since, they said, their subjects might think that the heir\nto the throne should not be married with as little consideration as a\ndairymaid.\n\n'Oh! take a day or two if you like,' said the Enchanter; 'but in the\nmeantime, I am going to send for your daughter. Perhaps you will be able\nto induce her to be reasonable.'\n\nSo saying, he drew out his favourite whistle, and blew one ear-piercing\nnote--whereupon the great lion, who had been dozing in the sunny\ncourtyard, come bounding in on his soft, heavy feet. 'Orion,' said the\nEnchanter, 'go and fetch me the Princess, and bring her here at once. Be\ngentle now!'\n\nAt these words Orion went off at a great pace, and was soon at the other\nend of the King's gardens. Scattering the guards right and left, he\ncleared the wall at a bound, and seizing the sleeping Princess, he threw\nher on to his back, where he kept her by holding her robe in his teeth.\nThen he trotted gently back, and in less than five minutes stood in the\ngreat hall before the astonished King and Queen.\n\nThe Enchanter held his club close to the Princess's charming little\nnose, whereupon she woke up and shrieked with terror at finding herself\nin a strange place with the detested Grumedan. Frivola, who had stood\nby, stiff with displeasure at the sight of the lovely Princess, now\nstepped forward, and with much pretended concern proposed to carry off\nPotentilla to her own apartments that she might enjoy the quiet she\nseemed to need. Really her one idea was to let the Princess be seen by\nas few people as possible; so, throwing a veil over her head, she led\nher away and locked her up securely. All this time Prince Narcissus,\ngloomy and despairing, was kept a prisoner by Melinette in her castle\nin the air, and in spite of all the splendour by which he was\nsurrounded, and all the pleasures which he might have enjoyed, his one\nthought was to get back to Potentilla. The Fairy, however, left him\nthere, promising to do her very best for him, and commanding all her\nswallows and butterflies to wait upon him and do his bidding. One day,\nas he paced sadly to and fro, he thought he heard a voice he knew\ncalling to him, and sure enough there was the faithful Philomel,\nPotentilla's favourite, who told him all that had passed, and how the\nsleeping Princess had been carried off by the Lion to the great grief of\nall her four-footed and feathered subjects, and how, not knowing what to\ndo, he had wandered about until he heard the swallows telling one\nanother of the Prince who was in their airy castle and had come to see\nif it could be Narcissus. The Prince was more distracted than ever, and\ntried vainly to escape from the castle, by leaping from the roof into\nthe clouds; but every time they caught him, and rolling softly up,\nbrought him back to the place from which he started, so at last he gave\nup the attempt and waited with desperate patience for the return of\nMelinette. Meanwhile matters were advancing rapidly in the court of King\nCloverleaf, for the Queen quite made up her mind that such a beauty as\nPotentilla must be got out of the way as quickly as possible. So she\nsent for the Enchanter secretly, and after making him promise that he\nwould never turn herself and King Cloverleaf out of their kingdom, and\nthat he would take Potentilla far away, so that never again might she\nset eyes upon her, she arranged the wedding for the next day but one.\n\nYou may imagine how Potentilla lamented her sad fate, and entreated to\nbe spared. All the comfort she could get out of Frivola was, that if she\npreferred a cup of poison to a rich husband she would certainly provide\nher with one.\n\nWhen, then, the fatal day came the unhappy Potentilla was led into the\ngreat hall between the King and Queen, the latter wild with envy at the\nmurmurs of admiration which rose on all sides at the loveliness of the\nPrincess. An instant later in came Grumedan by the opposite door. His\nhair stood on end, and he wore a huge bag-purse and a cravat tied in a\nbow, his mantle was made of a shower of silver coins with a lining of\nrose colour, and his delight in his own appearance knew no bounds. That\nany Princess could prefer a cup of poison to himself never for an\ninstant occurred to him. Nevertheless, that was what did happen, for\nwhen Queen Frivola in jest held out the fatal cup to the Princess, she\ntook it eagerly, crying:\n\n[Illustration]\n\n'Ah! beloved Narcissus, I come to thee!' and was just raising it to her\nlips when the window of the great hall burst open, and the Fairy\nMelinette floated in upon a glowing sunset cloud, followed by the Prince\nhimself.\n\nAll the court looked on in dazzled surprise, while Potentilla, catching\nsight of her lover, dropped the cup and ran joyfully to meet him.\n\nThe Enchanter's first thought was to defend himself when he saw\nMelinette appear, but she slipped round to his blind side, and catching\nhim by the eyelashes dragged him off to the ceiling of the hall, where\nshe held him kicking for a while just to give him a lesson, and then\ntouching him with her wand she imprisoned him for a thousand years in a\ncrystal ball which hung from the roof. 'Let this teach you to mind what\nI tell you another time,' she remarked severely. Then turning to the\nKing and Queen, she begged them to proceed with the wedding, since she\nhad provided a much more suitable bridegroom. She also deprived them of\ntheir kingdom, for they had really shown themselves unfit to manage it,\nand bestowed it upon the Prince and Princess, who, though they were\nunwilling to take it, had no choice but to obey the Fairy. However, they\ntook care that the King and Queen were always supplied with everything\nthey could wish for.\n\nPrince Narcissus and Princess Potentilla lived long and happily, beloved\nby all their subjects. As for the Enchanter, I don't believe he has been\nlet out yet.\n\n La Princesse Pimprenella et Le Prince Romarin.\n\n\n\n\n _PRINCE FEATHERHEAD AND THE PRINCESS CELANDINE_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a King and Queen, who were the best\ncreatures in the world, and so kind-hearted that they could not bear to\nsee their subjects want for anything. The consequence was they gradually\ngave away all their treasures, till they positively had nothing left to\nlive upon; and this coming to the ears of their neighbour, King Bruin,\nhe promptly raised a large army and marched into their country. The poor\nKing, having no means of defending his kingdom, was forced to disguise\nhimself with a false beard, and carrying his only son, the little Prince\nFeatherhead, in his arms, and accompanied only by the Queen, to make the\nbest of his way into the wild country. They were lucky enough to escape\nthe soldiers of King Bruin, and at last, after unheard-of fatigues and\nadventures, they found themselves in a charming green valley, through\nwhich flowed a stream clear as crystal and overshadowed by beautiful\ntrees. As they looked round them with delight, a voice said suddenly:\n'Fish, and see what you will catch.' Now the King had always loved\nfishing, and never went anywhere without a fish-hook or two in his\npocket, so he drew one out hastily, and the Queen lent him her girdle to\nfasten it to, and it had hardly touched the water before it caught a big\nfish, which made them an excellent meal--and not before they needed it,\nfor they had found nothing until then but a few wild berries and roots.\nThey thought that for the present they could not do better than stay in\nthis delightful place, and the King set to work, and soon built a bower\nof branches to shelter them; and when it was finished the Queen was so\ncharmed with it that she declared nothing was lacking to complete her\nhappiness but a flock of sheep, which she and the little Prince might\ntend while the King fished. They soon found that the fish were not only\nabundant and easily caught, but also very beautiful, with glittering\nscales of every imaginable hue; and before long the King discovered\nthat he could teach them to talk and whistle better than any parrot.\nThen he determined to carry some to the nearest town and try to sell\nthem; and as no one had ever before seen any like them the people\nflocked about him eagerly and bought all he had caught, so that\npresently not a house in the city was considered complete without a\ncrystal bowl full of fish, and the King's customers were very particular\nabout having them to match the rest of the furniture, and gave him a\nvast amount of trouble in choosing them. However, the money he obtained\nin this way enabled him to buy the Queen her flock of sheep, as well as\nmany of the other things which go to make life pleasant, so that they\nnever once regretted their lost kingdom. Now it happened that the Fairy\nof the Beech-Woods lived in the lovely valley to which chance had led\nthe poor fugitives, and it was she who had, in pity for their forlorn\ncondition, sent the King such good luck to his fishing, and generally\ntaken them under her protection. This she was all the more inclined to\ndo as she loved children, and little Prince Featherhead, who never\ncried and grew prettier day by day, quite won her heart. She made the\nacquaintance of the King and the Queen without at first letting them\nknow that she was a fairy, and they soon took a great fancy to her, and\neven trusted her with the precious Prince, whom she carried off to her\npalace, where she regaled him with cakes and tarts and every other good\nthing. This was the way she chose of making him fond of her; but\nafterwards, as he grew older, she spared no pains in educating and\ntraining him as a prince should be trained. But unfortunately, in spite\nof all her care, he grew so vain and frivolous that he quitted his\npeaceful country life in disgust, and rushed eagerly after all the\nfoolish gaieties of the neighbouring town, where his handsome face and\ncharming manners speedily made him popular. The King and Queen deeply\nregretted this alteration in their son, but did not know how to mend\nmatters, since the good old Fairy had made him so self-willed.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nJust at this time the Fairy of the Beech-Woods received a visit from an\nold friend of hers called Saradine, who rushed into her house so\nbreathless with rage that she could hardly speak.\n\n'Dear, dear! what _is_ the matter?' said the Fairy of the Beech-Woods\nsoothingly.\n\n'The matter!' cried Saradine. 'You shall soon hear all about it. You\nknow that, not content with endowing Celandine, Princess of the Summer\nIslands, with everything she could desire to make her charming, I\nactually took the trouble to bring her up myself; and now what does she\ndo but come to me with more coaxings and caresses than usual to beg a\nfavour. And what do you suppose this favour turns out to be--when I have\nbeen cajoled, into promising to grant it? Nothing more nor less than a\nrequest that I will take back all my gifts--\"since,\" says my young\nmadam, \"if I have the good fortune to please you, how am I to know that\nit is really I, myself? And that's how it will be all my life long,\nwhenever I meet anybody. You see what a weariness my life will be to me\nunder these circumstances, and yet I assure you I am not ungrateful to\nyou for all your kindness!\" I did all I could,' continued Saradine, 'to\nmake her think better of it, but in vain; so after going through the\nusual ceremony for taking back my gifts, I'm come to you for a little\npeace and quietness. But, after all, I have not taken anything of\nconsequence from this provoking Celandine. Nature had already made her\nso pretty, and given her such a ready wit of her own, that she will do\nperfectly well without me. However, I thought she deserved a little\nlesson, so to begin with I have whisked her off into the desert, and\nthere left her!'\n\n'What! all alone, and without any means of existence?' cried the\nkind-hearted old Fairy. 'You had better hand her over to me. I don't\nthink so very badly of her after all. I'll just cure her vanity by\nmaking her love someone better than herself. Really, when I come to\nconsider of it, I declare the little minx has shown more spirit and\noriginality in the matter than one expects of a princess.'\n\n[Illustration]\n\nSaradine willingly consented to this arrangement, and the old Fairy's\nfirst care was to smooth away all the difficulties which surrounded the\nPrincess, and lead her by the mossy path overhung with trees to the\nbower of the King and Queen, who still pursued their peaceful life in\nthe valley.\n\nThey were immensely surprised at her appearance, but her charming face,\nand the deplorably ragged condition to which the thorns and briers had\nreduced her once elegant attire, speedily won their compassion; they\nrecognised her as a companion in misfortune, and the Queen welcomed her\nheartily, and begged her to share their simple repast. Celandine\ngracefully accepted their hospitality, and soon told them what had\nhappened to her. The King was charmed with her spirit, while the Queen\nthought she had indeed been daring thus to go against the Fairy's\nwishes.\n\n'Since it has ended in my meeting you,' said the Princess, 'I cannot\nregret the step I have taken, and if you will let me stay with you, I\nshall be perfectly happy.'\n\nThe King and Queen were only too delighted to have this charming\nPrincess to supply the place of Prince Featherhead, whom they saw but\nseldom, since the Fairy had provided him with a palace in the\nneighbouring town, where he lived in the greatest luxury, and did\nnothing but amuse himself from morning to night. So Celandine stayed,\nand helped the Queen to keep house, and very soon they loved her dearly.\nWhen the Fairy of the Beech-Woods came to them, they presented the\nPrincess to her, and told her story, little thinking that the Fairy knew\nmore about Celandine than they did. The old Fairy was equally delighted\nwith her, and often invited her to visit her Leafy Palace, which was the\nmost enchanting place that could be imagined, and full of treasures.\nOften she would say to the Princess, when showing her some wonderful\nthing:\n\n'This will do for a wedding gift some day.' And Celandine could not help\nthinking that it was to her that the Fairy meant to give the two blue\nwax-torches which burned without ever getting smaller, or the diamond\nfrom which more diamonds were continually growing, or the boat that\nsailed under water, or whatever beautiful or wonderful thing they might\nhappen to be looking at. It is true that she never said so positively,\nbut she certainly allowed the Princess to believe it, because she\nthought a little disappointment would be good for her. But the person\nshe really relied upon for curing Celandine of her vanity was Prince\nFeatherhead. The old Fairy was not at all pleased with the way he had\nbeen going on for some time, but her heart was so soft towards him that\nshe was unwilling to take him away from the pleasures he loved, except\nby offering him something better, which is not the most effectual mode\nof correction, though it is without doubt the most agreeable.\n\nHowever, she did not even hint to the Princess that Featherhead was\nanything but absolutely perfect, and talked of him so much that when at\nlast she announced that he was coming to visit her, Celandine made up\nher mind that this delightful Prince would be certain to fall in love\nwith her at once, and was quite pleased at the idea. The old Fairy\nthought so too, but as this was not at all what she wished, she took\ncare to throw such an enchantment over the Princess that she appeared to\nFeatherhead quite ugly and awkward, though to every one else she looked\njust as usual. So when he arrived at the Leafy Palace, more handsome and\nfascinating even than ever she had been led to expect, he hardly so much\nas glanced at the Princess, but bestowed all his attention upon the old\nFairy, to whom he seemed to have a hundred things to say. The Princess\nwas immensely astonished at his indifference, and put on a cold and\noffended air, which, however, he did not seem to observe. Then as a last\nresource she exerted all her wit and gaiety to amuse him, but with no\nbetter success, for he was of an age to be more attracted by beauty than\nby anything else, and though he responded politely enough, it was\nevident that his thoughts were elsewhere. Celandine was deeply\nmortified, since for her part the Prince pleased her very well, and for\nthe first time she bitterly regretted the fairy gifts she had been\nanxious to get rid of. Prince Featherhead was almost equally puzzled,\nfor he had heard nothing from the King and Queen but the praises of this\ncharming Princess, and the fact that they had spoken of her as so very\nbeautiful only confirmed his opinion that people who live in the country\nhave no taste. He talked to them of his charming acquaintances in the\ntown, the beauties he had admired, did admire, or thought he was going\nto admire, until Celandine, who heard it all, was ready to cry with\nvexation. The Fairy too was quite shocked at his conceit, and hit upon a\nplan for curing him of it. She sent to him by an unknown messenger a\nportrait of Princess Celandine as she really was, with this inscription:\n'All this beauty and sweetness, with a loving heart and a great kingdom,\nmight have been yours but for your well-known fickleness.'\n\nThis message made a great impression upon the Prince, but not so much as\nthe portrait. He positively could not tear his eyes away from it, and\nexclaimed aloud that never, never had he seen anything so lovely and so\ngraceful. Then he began to think that it was too absurd that he, the\nfascinating Featherhead, should fall in love with a portrait; and, to\ndrive away the recollections of its haunting eyes, he rushed back to the\ntown; but somehow everything seemed changed. The beauties no longer\npleased him, their witty speeches had ceased to amuse; and indeed, for\ntheir parts, they found the Prince far less amiable than of yore, and\nwere not sorry when he declared that, after all, a country life suited\nhim best, and went back to the Leafy Palace. Meanwhile, the Princess\nCelandine had been finding the time pass but slowly with the King and\nQueen, and was only too pleased when Featherhead re-appeared. She at once\nnoticed the change in him, and was deeply curious to find the reason of\nit. Far from avoiding her, he now sought her company and seemed to take\npleasure in talking to her, and yet the Princess did not for a moment\nflatter herself with the idea that he was in love with her, though it\ndid not take her long to decide that he certainly loved someone. But one\nday the Princess, wandering sadly by the river, spied Prince Featherhead\nfast asleep in the shade of a tree, and stole nearer to enjoy the\ndelight of gazing at his dear face unobserved. Judge of her astonishment\nwhen she saw that he was holding in his hand a portrait of herself! In\nvain did she puzzle over the apparent contradictoriness of his\nbehaviour. Why did he cherish her portrait while he was so fatally\nindifferent to herself? At last she found an opportunity of asking him\nthe name of the Princess whose picture he carried about with him always.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n'Alas! how can I tell you?' replied he.\n\n'Why should you not?' said the Princess timidly. 'Surely there is\nnothing to prevent you.'\n\n'Nothing to prevent me!' repeated he, 'when my utmost efforts have\nfailed to discover the lovely original. Should I be so sad if I could\nbut find her? But I do not even know her name.'\n\nMore surprised than ever, the Princess asked to be allowed to see the\nportrait, and after examining it for a few minutes returned it,\nremarking shyly that at least the original had every cause to be\nsatisfied with it.\n\n'That means that you consider it flattered,' said the Prince severely.\n'Really, Celandine, I thought better of you, and should have expected\nyou to be above such contemptible jealousy. But all women are alike!'\n\n'Indeed, I meant only that it was a good likeness,' said the Princess\nmeekly.\n\n'Then you know the original,' cried the Prince, throwing himself on his\nknees beside her. 'Pray tell me at once who it is, and don't keep me in\nsuspense!'\n\n'Oh! don't you see that it is meant for me?' cried Celandine.\n\nThe Prince sprang to his feet, hardly able to refrain from telling her\nthat she must be blinded by vanity to suppose she resembled the lovely\nportrait even in the slightest degree; and after gazing at her for an\ninstant with icy surprise, turned and left her without another word, and\nin a few hours quitted the Leafy Palace altogether.\n\nNow the Princess was indeed unhappy, and could no longer bear to stay in\na place where she had been so cruelly disdained. So, without even\nbidding farewell to the King and Queen, she left the valley behind her,\nand wandered sadly away, not caring whither. After walking until she was\nweary, she saw before her a tiny house, and turned her slow steps\ntowards it. The nearer she approached the more miserable it appeared,\nand at length she saw a little old woman sitting upon the door-step, who\nsaid grimly:\n\n'Here comes one of these fine beggars who are too idle to do anything\nbut run about the country!'\n\n'Alas! madam,' said Celandine, with tears in her pretty eyes, 'a sad\nfate forces me to ask you for shelter.'\n\n'Didn't I tell you what it would be?' growled the old hag. 'From\nshelter we shall proceed to demand supper, and from supper money to take\nus on our way. Upon my word, if I could be sure of finding some one\nevery day whose head was as soft as his heart, I wouldn't wish for a\nmore agreeable life myself! But I have worked hard to build my house and\nsecure a morsel to eat, and I suppose you think that I am to give away\neverything to the first passer-by who chooses to ask for it. Not at all!\nI wager that a fine lady like you has more money than I have. I must\nsearch her, and see if it is not so,' she added, hobbling towards\nCelandine with the aid of her stick.\n\n'Alas! madam,' replied the Princess, 'I only wish I had. I would give it\nto you with all the pleasure in life.'\n\n'But you are very smartly dressed for the kind of life you lead,'\ncontinued the old woman.\n\n'What!' cried the Princess, 'do you think I am come to beg of you?'\n\n'I don't know about that,' answered she; 'but at any rate you don't seem\nto have come to bring me anything. But what is it that you do want?\nShelter? Well, that does not cost much; but after that comes supper, and\nthat I can't hear of. Oh dear no! Why, at your age one is always ready\nto eat; and now you have been walking, and I suppose you are ravenous?'\n\n'Indeed no, madam,' answered the poor Princess, 'I am too sad to be\nhungry.'\n\n'Oh, well! if you will promise to go on being sad, you may stay for the\nnight,' said the old woman mockingly.\n\nThereupon she made the Princess sit down beside her, and began fingering\nher silken robe, while she muttered 'Lace on top, lace underneath! This\nmust have cost you a pretty penny! It would have been better to save\nenough to feed yourself, and not come begging to those who want all they\nhave for themselves. Pray, what may you have paid for these fine\nclothes?'\n\n'Alas! madam,' answered the Princess, 'I did not buy them, and I know\nnothing about money.'\n\n'What _do_ you know, if I may ask?' said the old dame.\n\n'Not much; but indeed I am very unhappy,' cried Celandine, bursting into\ntears, 'and if my services are any good to you----'\n\n'Services!' interrupted the hag crossly. 'One has to pay for services,\nand I am not above doing my own work.'\n\n'Madam, I will serve you for nothing,' said the poor Princess, whose\nspirits were sinking lower and lower. 'I will do anything you please;\nall I wish is to live quietly in this lonely spot.'\n\n'Oh! I know you are only trying to take me in,' answered she; 'and if I\ndo let you serve me, is it fitting that you should be so much better\ndressed than I am? If I keep you, will you give me your clothes and wear\nsome that I will provide you with? It is true that I am getting old and\nmay want someone to take care of me some day.'\n\n[Illustration]\n\n'Oh! for pity's sake, do what you please with my clothes,' cried poor\nCelandine miserably.\n\nAnd the old woman hobbled off with great alacrity, and fetched a little\nbundle containing a wretched dress, such as the Princess had never even\nseen before, and nimbly skipped round, helping her to put it on instead\nof her own rich robe, with many exclamations of:\n\n'Saints!--what a magnificent lining! And the width of it! It will make\nme four dresses at least. Why, child, I wonder you could walk under such\na weight, and certainly in my house you would not have had room to turn\nround.'\n\nSo saying, she folded up the robe, and put it by with great care, while\nshe remarked to Celandine:\n\n'That dress of mine certainly suits you to a marvel; be sure you take\ngreat care of it.'\n\nWhen supper-time came she went into the house, declining all the\nPrincess's offers of assistance, and shortly afterwards brought out a\nvery small dish, saying:\n\n'Now let us sup.'\n\nWhereupon she handed Celandine a small piece of black bread and\nuncovered the dish, which contained two dried plums.\n\n'We will have one between us,' continued the old dame; 'and as you are\nthe visitor, you shall have the half which contains the stone; but be\nvery careful that you don't swallow it, for I keep them against the\nwinter, and you have no idea what a good fire they make. Now, you take\nmy advice which won't cost you anything--and remember that it is always\nmore economical to buy fruit with stones on this account.'\n\nCelandine, absorbed in her own sad thoughts, did not even hear this\nprudent counsel, and quite forgot to eat her share of the plum, which\ndelighted the old woman, who put it by carefully for her breakfast,\nsaying:\n\n'I am very much pleased with you, and if you go on as you have begun, we\nshall do very well, and I can teach you many useful things which people\ndon't generally know. For instance, look at my house! It is built\nentirely of the seeds of all the pears I have eaten in my life. Now,\nmost people throw them away, and that only shows what a number of things\nare wasted for want of a little patience and ingenuity.'\n\nBut Celandine did not find it possible to be interested in this and\nsimilar pieces of advice. And the old woman soon sent her to bed, for\nfear the night air might give her an appetite. She passed a sleepless\nnight; but in the morning the old dame remarked:\n\n'I heard how well you slept. After such a night you cannot want any\nbreakfast; so while I do my household tasks you had better stay in bed,\nsince the more one sleeps the less one need eat; and as it is market-day\nI will go to town and buy a pennyworth of bread for the week's eating.'\n\nAnd so she chattered on, but poor Celandine did not hear or heed her;\nshe wandered out into the desolate country to think over her sad fate.\nHowever, the good Fairy of the Beech-Woods did not want her to be\nstarved, so she sent her an unlooked-for relief in the shape of a\nbeautiful white cow, which followed her back to the tiny house. When the\nold woman saw it her joy knew no bounds.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n'Now we can have milk and cheese and butter!' cried she. 'Ah! how good\nmilk is! What a pity it is so ruinously expensive!' So they made a\nlittle shelter of branches for the beautiful creature, which was quite\ngentle, and followed Celandine about like a dog when she took it out\nevery day to graze. One morning as she sat by a little brook, thinking\nsadly, she suddenly saw a young stranger approaching, and got up\nquickly, intending to avoid him. But Prince Featherhead, for it was he,\nperceiving her at the same moment, rushed towards her with every\ndemonstration of joy: for he had recognised her, not as the Celandine\nwhom he had slighted, but as the lovely Princess whom he had sought\nvainly for so long. The fact was that the Fairy of the Beech-Woods,\nthinking she had been punished enough, had withdrawn the enchantment\nfrom her, and transferred it to Featherhead, thereby in an instant\ndepriving him of the good looks which had done so much towards making\nhim the fickle creature he was. Throwing himself down at the Princess's\nfeet, he implored her to stay, and at least speak to him, and she at\nlast consented, but only because he seemed to wish it so very much.\nAfter that he came every day in the hope of meeting her again, and often\nexpressed his delight at being with her. But one day, when he had been\nbegging Celandine to love him, she confided to him that it was quite\nimpossible, since her heart was already entirely occupied by another.\n\n'I have,' said she, 'the unhappiness of loving a Prince who is fickle,\nfrivolous, proud, incapable of caring for anyone but himself, who has\nbeen spoilt by flattery, and, to crown all, who does not love me.'\n\n'But' cried Prince Featherhead, 'surely you cannot care for so\ncontemptible and worthless a creature as that.'\n\n'Alas! but I do care,' answered the Princess, weeping.\n\n'But where can his eyes be,' said the Prince, 'that your beauty makes no\nimpression upon him? As for me, since I have possessed your portrait I\nhave wandered over the whole world to find you, and, now we have met, I\nsee that you are ten times lovelier than I could have imagined, and I\nwould give all I own to win your love.'\n\n'My portrait?' cried Celandine with sudden interest. 'Is it possible\nthat Prince Featherhead can have parted with it?'\n\n'He would part with his life sooner, lovely Princess,' answered he; 'I\ncan assure you of that, for _I_ am Prince Featherhead.'\n\nAt the same moment the Fairy of the Beech-Woods took away the\nenchantment, and the happy Princess recognised her lover, now truly\nhers, for the trials they had both undergone had so changed and improved\nthem that they were capable of a real love for each other. You may\nimagine how perfectly happy they were, and how much they had to hear and\nto tell. But at length it was time to go back to the little house, and\nas they went along Celandine remembered for the first time what a ragged\nold dress she was wearing, and what an odd appearance she must present.\nBut the Prince declared that it became her vastly, and that he thought\nit most picturesque. When they reached the house the old woman received\nthem very crossly.\n\n'I declare,' said she, 'that it's perfectly true: wherever there is a\ngirl you may be sure that a young man will appear before long! But don't\nimagine that I'm going to have you here--not a bit of it; be off with\nyou, my fine fellow!'\n\nPrince Featherhead was inclined to be angry at this uncivil reception,\nbut he was really too happy to care much, so he only demanded, on\nCelandine's behalf, that the old dame should give her back her own\nattire, that she might go away suitably dressed.\n\nThis request roused her to fury, since she had counted upon the\nPrincess's fine robes to clothe her for the rest of her life, so that it\nwas some time before the Prince could make himself heard to explain that\nhe was willing to pay for them. The sight of a handful of gold pieces\nsomewhat mollified her, however, and after making them both promise\nfaithfully that on no consideration would they ask for the gold back\nagain, she took the Princess into the house and grudgingly doled out to\nher just enough of her gay attire to make her presentable, while the\nrest she pretended to have lost. After this they found that they were\nvery hungry, for one cannot live on love, any more than on air, and then\nthe old woman's lamentations were louder than before. 'What!' she cried,\n'feed people who were as happy as all that! Why, it was simply ruinous!'\n\nBut as the Prince began to look angry, she, with many sighs and\nmutterings, brought out a morsel of bread, a bowl of milk, and six\nplums, with which the lovers were well content: for as long as they\ncould look at one another they really did not know what they were\neating. It seemed as if they would go on for ever with their\nreminiscences, the Prince telling how he had wandered all over the world\nfrom beauty to beauty, always to be disappointed when he found that no\none resembled the portrait; the Princess wondering how it was he could\nhave been so long with her and yet never have recognised her, and over\nand over again pardoning him for his cold and haughty behaviour to her.\n\n'For,' she said, 'you see, Featherhead, I love you, and love makes\neverything right! But we cannot stay here,' she added; 'what are we to\ndo?'\n\nThe Prince thought they had better find their way to the Fairy of the\nBeech-Woods and put themselves once more under her protection, and they\nhad hardly agreed upon this course when two little chariots wreathed\nwith jasmine and honeysuckle suddenly appeared, and, stepping into them,\nthey were whirled away to the Leafy Palace. Just before they lost sight\nof the little house they heard loud cries and lamentations from the\nmiserly old dame, and, looking round, perceived that the beautiful cow\nwas vanishing in spite of her frantic efforts to hold it fast. And they\nafterwards heard that she spent the rest of her life in trying to put\nthe handful of gold the Prince had thrown to her into her money-bag. For\nthe Fairy, as a punishment for her avarice, caused it to slip out again\nas fast as she dropped it in.\n\nThe Fairy of the Beech-Woods ran to welcome the Prince and Princess with\nopen arms, only too delighted to find them so much improved that she\ncould, with a clear conscience, begin to spoil them again. Very soon the\nFairy Saradine also arrived, bringing the King and Queen with her.\nPrincess Celandine implored her pardon, which she graciously gave;\nindeed the Princess was so charming she could refuse her nothing. She\nalso restored to her the Summer Islands, and promised her protection in\nall things. The Fairy of the Beech-Woods then informed the King and\nQueen that their subjects had chased King Bruin from the throne, and\nwere waiting to welcome them back again; but they at once abdicated in\nfavour of Prince Featherhead, declaring that nothing could induce them\nto forsake their peaceful life, and the Fairies undertook to see the\nPrince and Princess established in their beautiful kingdoms. Their\nmarriage took place the next day, and they lived happily ever\nafterwards, for Celandine was never vain and Featherhead was never\nfickle any more.\n\n _Le Prince Muguet et la Princesse Zaza._\n\n\n\n\n _THE THREE LITTLE PIGS_\n\n\nThere was once upon a time a pig who lived with her three children on a\nlarge, comfortable, old-fashioned farmyard. The eldest of the little\npigs was called Browny, the second Whitey, and the youngest and best\nlooking Blacky. Now Browny was a very dirty little pig, and I am sorry\nto say spent most of his time rolling and wallowing about in the mud. He\nwas never so happy as on a wet day, when the mud in the farmyard got\nsoft, and thick, and slab. Then he would steal away from his mother's\nside, and finding the muddiest place in the yard, would roll about in it\nand thoroughly enjoy himself. His mother often found fault with him for\nthis, and would shake her head sadly and say: 'Ah, Browny! some day you\nwill be sorry that you did not obey your old mother.' But no words of\nadvice or warning could cure Browny of his bad habits.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nWhitey was quite a clever little pig, but she was greedy. She was always\nthinking of her food, and looking forward to her dinner; and when the\nfarm girl was seen carrying the pails across the yard, she would rise up\non her hind legs and dance and caper with excitement. As soon as the\nfood was poured into the trough she jostled Blacky and Browny out of the\nway in her eagerness to get the best and biggest bits for herself. Her\nmother often scolded her for her selfishness, and told her that some day\nshe would suffer for being so greedy and grabbing.\n\nBlacky was a good, nice little pig, neither dirty nor greedy. He had\nnice dainty ways (for a pig), and his skin was always as smooth and\nshining as black satin. He was much cleverer than Browny and Whitey, and\nhis mother's heart used to swell with pride when she heard the farmer's\nfriends say to each other that some day the little black fellow would be\na prize pig.\n\nNow the time came when the mother pig felt old and feeble and near her\nend. One day she called the three little pigs round her and said:\n\n'My children, I feel that I am growing old and weak, and that I shall\nnot live long. Before I die I should like to build a house for each of\nyou, as this dear old sty in which we have lived so happily will be\ngiven to a new family of pigs, and you will have to turn out. Now,\nBrowny, what sort of a house would you like to have?'\n\n'A house of mud,' replied Browny, looking longingly at a wet puddle in\nthe corner of the yard.\n\n'And you, Whitey?' said the mother pig in rather a sad voice, for she\nwas disappointed that Browny had made so foolish a choice.\n\n'A house of cabbage,' answered Whitey, with a mouth full, and scarcely\nraising her snout out of the trough in which she was grubbing for some\npotato-parings.\n\n'Foolish, foolish child!' said the mother pig, looking quite distressed,\n'And you, Blacky?' turning to her youngest son, 'what sort of a house\nshall I order for you?'\n\n'A house of brick, please mother, as it will be warm in winter, and cool\nin summer, and safe all the year round.'\n\n'That is a sensible little pig,' replied his mother, looking fondly at\nhim. 'I will see that the three houses are got ready at once. And now\none last piece of advice. You have heard me talk of our old enemy the\nfox. When he hears that I am dead, he is sure to try and get hold of\nyou, to carry you off to his den. He is very sly and will no doubt\ndisguise himself, and pretend to be a friend, but you must promise me\nnot to let him enter your houses on any pretext whatever.'\n\nAnd the little pigs readily promised, for they had always had a great\nfear of the fox, of whom they had heard many terrible tales. A short\ntime afterwards the old pig died, and the little pigs went to live in\ntheir own houses.\n\nBrowny was quite delighted with his soft mud walls and with the clay\nfloor, which soon looked like nothing but a big mud pie. But that was\nwhat Browny enjoyed, and he was as happy as possible, rolling about all\nday and making himself in such a mess. One day, as he was lying half\nasleep in the mud, he heard a soft knock at his door, and a gentle voice\nsaid:\n\n'May I come in, Master Browny? I want to see your beautiful new house.'\n\n'Who are you?' said Browny, starting up in great fright, for though the\nvoice sounded gentle, he felt sure it was a feigned voice, and he feared\nit was the fox.\n\n'I am a friend come to call on you,' answered the voice.\n\n'No, no,' replied Browny, 'I don't believe you are a friend. You are the\nwicked fox, against whom our mother warned us. I won't let you in.'\n\n'Oho! is that the way you answer me?' said the fox, speaking very\nroughly in his natural voice. 'We shall soon see who is master here,'\nand with his paws he set to work and scraped a large hole in the soft\nmud walls. A moment later he had jumped through it, and catching Browny\nby the neck, flung him on his shoulders and trotted off with him to his\nden.\n\nThe next day, as Whitey was munching a few leaves of cabbage out of the\ncorner of her house, the fox stole up to her door, determined to carry\nher off to join her brother in his den. He began speaking to her in the\nsame feigned gentle voice in which he had spoken to Browny; but it\nfrightened her very much when he said:\n\n'I am a friend come to visit you, and to have some of your good cabbage\nfor my dinner.'\n\n'Please don't touch it,' cried Whitey in great distress. 'The cabbages\nare the walls of my house, and if you eat them you will make a hole, and\nthe wind and rain will come in and give me a cold. Do go away; I am sure\nyou are not a friend, but our wicked enemy the fox.' And poor Whitey\nbegan to whine and to whimper, and to wish that she had not been such a\ngreedy little pig, and had chosen a more solid material than cabbages\nfor her house. But it was too late now, and in another minute the fox\nhad eaten his way through the cabbage walls, and had caught the\ntrembling, shivering Whitey, and carried her off to his den.\n\nThe next day the fox started off for Blacky's house, because he had made\nup his mind that he would get the three little pigs together in his den,\nand then kill them, and invite all his friends to a feast. But when he\nreached the brick house, he found that the door was bolted and barred,\nso in his sly manner he began, 'Do let me in, dear Blacky. I have\nbrought you a present of some eggs that I picked up in a farmyard on my\nway here.'\n\n[Illustration]\n\n'No, no, Mister Fox,' replied Blacky, 'I am not going to open my door to\nyou. I know your cunning ways. You have carried off poor Browny and\nWhitey, but you are not going to get me.'\n\nAt this the fox was so angry that he dashed with all his force against\nthe wall, and tried to knock it down. But it was too strong and\nwell-built; and though the fox scraped and tore at the bricks with his\npaws he only hurt himself, and at last he had to give it up, and limp\naway with his fore-paws all bleeding and sore.\n\n'Never mind!' he cried angrily as he went off, 'I'll catch you another\nday, see if I don't, and won't I grind your bones to powder when I have\ngot you in my den!' and he snarled fiercely and showed his teeth.\n\nNext day Blacky had to go into the neighbouring town to do some\nmarketing and to buy a big kettle. As he was walking home with it slung\nover his shoulder, he heard a sound of steps stealthily creeping after\nhim. For a moment his heart stood still with fear, and then a happy\nthought came to him. He had just reached the top of a hill, and could\nsee his own little house nestling at the foot of it among the trees. In\na moment he had snatched the lid off the kettle and had jumped in\nhimself. Coiling himself round he lay quite snug in the bottom of the\nkettle, while with his fore-leg he managed to put the lid on, so that he\nwas entirely hidden. With a little kick from the inside he started the\nkettle off, and down the hill it rolled full tilt; and when the fox came\nup, all that he saw was a large black kettle spinning over the ground at\na great pace. Very much disappointed, he was just going to turn away,\nwhen he saw the kettle stop close to the little brick house, and in a\nmoment later Blacky jumped out of it and escaped with the kettle into\nthe house, when he barred and bolted the door, and put the shutter up\nover the window.\n\n'Oho!' exclaimed the fox to himself, 'you think you will escape me that\nway, do you? We shall soon see about that, my friend,' and very quietly\nand stealthily he prowled round the house looking for some way to climb\non to the roof.\n\nIn the meantime Blacky had filled the kettle with water, and having put\nit on the fire, sat down quietly waiting for it to boil. Just as the\nkettle was beginning to sing, and steam to come out of the spout, he\nheard a sound like a soft, muffled step, patter, patter, patter\noverhead, and the next moment the fox's head and fore-paws were seen\ncoming down the chimney. But Blacky very wisely had not put the lid on\nthe kettle, and, with a yelp of pain, the fox fell into the boiling\nwater, and before he could escape, Blacky had popped the lid on, and the\nfox was scalded to death.\n\nAs soon as he was sure that their wicked enemy was really dead, and\ncould do them no further harm, Blacky started off to rescue Browny and\nWhitey. As he approached the den he heard piteous grunts and squeals\nfrom his poor little brother and sister who lived in constant terror of\nthe fox killing and eating them. But when they saw Blacky appear at the\nentrance to the den their joy knew no bounds. He quickly found a sharp\nstone and cut the cords by which they were tied to a stake in the\nground, and then all three started off together for Blacky's house,\nwhere they lived happily ever after; and Browny quite gave up rolling in\nthe mud, and Whitey ceased to be greedy, for they never forgot how\nnearly these faults had brought them to an untimely end.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n _HEART OF ICE_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a King and Queen who were foolish beyond\nall telling, but nevertheless they were vastly fond of one another. It\nis true that certain spiteful people were heard to say that this was\nonly one proof the more of their exceeding foolishness, but of course\nyou will understand that these were not their own courtiers, since,\nafter all, they _were_ a King and Queen, and up to this time all things\nhad prospered with them. For in those days the one thing to be thought\nof in governing a kingdom was to keep well with all the Fairies and\nEnchanters, and on no account to stint them of the cakes, the ells of\nribbon, and similar trifles which were their due, and, above all things,\nwhen there was a christening, to remember to invite every single one,\ngood, bad, or indifferent, to the ceremony. Now, the foolish Queen had\none little son who was just going to be christened, and for several\nmonths she had been hard at work preparing an enormous list of the names\nof those who were to be invited, but she quite forgot that it would take\nnearly as long to read it over as it had taken to write it out. So, when\nthe moment of the christening arrived the King--to whom the task had\nbeen entrusted--had barely reached the end of the second page and his\ntongue was tripping with fatigue and haste as he repeated the usual\nformula: 'I conjure and pray you, Fairy so-and-so'--or 'Enchanter\nsuch-a-one'--'to honour me with a visit, and graciously bestow your\ngifts upon my son.'\n\nTo make matters worse, word was brought to him that the Fairies asked on\nthe first page had already arrived and were waiting impatiently in the\nGreat Hall, and grumbling that nobody was there to receive them.\nThereupon he gave up the list in despair and hurried to greet those whom\nhe had succeeded in asking, imploring their goodwill so humbly that most\nof them were touched, and promised that they would do his son no harm.\nBut there happened to be among them a Fairy from a far country about\nwhom they knew nothing, though her name had been written on the first\npage of the list. This Fairy was annoyed that after having taken the\ntrouble to come so quickly, there had been no one to receive her, or\nhelp her to alight from the great ostrich on which she had travelled\nfrom her distant home, and now she began to mutter to herself in the\nmost alarming way.\n\n'Oh! prate away,' said she, 'your son will never be anything to boast\nof. Say what you will, he will be nothing but a Mannikin----'\n\nNo doubt she would have gone on longer in this strain, and given the\nunhappy little Prince half-a-dozen undesirable gifts, if it had not been\nfor the good Fairy Genesta, who held the kingdom under her special\nprotection, and who luckily hurried in just in time to prevent further\nmischief. When she had by compliments and entreaties pacified the\nunknown Fairy, and persuaded her to say no more, she gave the King a\nhint that now was the time to distribute the presents, after which\nceremony they all took their departure, excepting the Fairy Genesta, who\nthen went to see the Queen, and said to her:\n\n'A nice mess you seem to have made of this business, madam. Why did you\nnot condescend to consult me? But foolish people like you always think\nthey can do without help or advice, and I observe that, in spite of all\nmy goodness to you, you had not even the civility to invite me!'\n\n'Ah! dear madam,' cried the King, throwing himself at her feet; 'did I\never have time to get as far as your name? See where I put in this mark\nwhen I abandoned the hopeless undertaking which I had but just begun!'\n\n'There! there!' said the Fairy, 'I am not offended. I don't allow myself\nto be put out by trifles like that with people I really am fond of. But\nnow about your son: I have saved him from a great many disagreeable\nthings, but you must let me take him away and take care of him, and you\nwill not see him again until he is all covered with fur!'\n\nAt these mysterious words the King and Queen burst into tears, for they\nlived in such a hot climate themselves that how or why the Prince should\ncome to be covered with fur they could not imagine, and thought it must\nportend some great misfortune to him.\n\nHowever, Genesta told them not to disquiet themselves.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n'If I left him to you to bring up,' said she, 'you would be certain to\nmake him as foolish as yourselves. I do not even intend to let him know\nthat he is your son. As for you, you had better give your minds to\ngoverning your kingdom properly.' So saying, she opened the window, and\ncatching up the little Prince, cradle and all, she glided away in the\nair as if she were skating upon ice, leaving the King and Queen in the\ngreatest affliction. They consulted everyone who came near them as to\nwhat the Fairy could possibly have meant by saying that when they saw\ntheir son again he would be covered with fur. But nobody could offer any\nsolution of the mystery, only they all seemed to agree that it must be\nsomething frightful, and the King and Queen made themselves more\nmiserable than ever, and wandered about their palace in a way to make\nanyone pity them. Meantime the Fairy had carried off the little Prince\nto her own castle, and placed him under the care of a young peasant\nwoman, whom she bewitched so as to make her think that this new baby was\none of her own children. So the Prince grew up healthy and strong,\nleading the simple life of a young peasant, for the Fairy thought that\nhe could have no better training; only as he grew older she kept him\nmore and more with herself, that his mind might be cultivated and\nexercised as well as his body. But her care did not cease there: she\nresolved that he should be tried by hardships and disappointments and\nthe knowledge of his fellowmen; for indeed she knew the Prince would\nneed every advantage that she could give him, since, though he increased\nin years, he did not increase in height, but remained the tiniest of\nPrinces. However, in spite of this he was exceedingly active and well\nformed, and altogether so handsome and agreeable that the smallness of\nhis stature was of no real consequence. The Prince was perfectly aware\nthat he was called by the ridiculous name of 'Mannikin,' but he consoled\nhimself by vowing that, happen what might, he would make it illustrious.\n\nIn order to carry out her plans for his welfare the Fairy now began to\nsend Prince Mannikin the most wonderful dreams of adventure by sea and\nland, and of these adventures he himself was always the hero. Sometimes\nhe rescued a lovely Princess from some terrible danger, again he earned\na kingdom by some brave deed, until at last he longed to go away and\nseek his fortune in a far country where his humble birth would not\nprevent his gaining honour and riches by his courage, and it was with a\nheart full of ambitious projects that he rode one day into a great city\nnot far from the Fairy's castle. As he had set out intending to hunt in\nthe surrounding forest he was quite simply dressed, and carried only a\nbow and arrows and a light spear; but even thus arrayed he looked\ngraceful and distinguished. As he entered the city he saw that the\ninhabitants were all racing with one accord towards the market-place,\nand he also turned his horse in the same direction, curious to know what\nwas going forward. When he reached the spot he found that certain\nforeigners of strange and outlandish appearance were about to make a\nproclamation to the assembled citizens, and he hastily pushed his way\ninto the crowd until he was near enough to hear the words of the\nvenerable old man who was their spokesman:\n\n'Let the whole world know that he who can reach the summit of the Ice\nMountain shall receive as his reward, not only the incomparable Sabella,\nfairest of the fair, but also all the realms of which she is Queen!'\n'Here,' continued the old man after he had made this proclamation--'here\nis the list of all those Princes who, struck by the beauty of the\nPrincess, have perished in the attempt to win her; and here is the list\nof those who have just entered upon the high emprise.'\n\nPrince Mannikin was seized with a violent desire to inscribe his name\namong the others, but the remembrance of his dependent position and his\nlack of wealth held him back. But while he hesitated the old man, with\nmany respectful ceremonies, unveiled a portrait of the lovely Sabella,\nwhich was carried by some of the attendants, and after one glance at it\nthe Prince delayed no longer, but, rushing forward, demanded permission\nto add his name to the list. When they saw his tiny stature and simple\nattire the strangers looked at each other doubtfully, not knowing\nwhether to accept or refuse him. But the Prince said haughtily:\n\n'Give me the paper that I may sign it,' and they obeyed. What between\nadmiration for the Princess and annoyance at the hesitation shown by her\nambassadors the Prince was too much agitated to choose any other name\nthan the one by which he was always known. But when, after all the grand\ntitles of the other Princes, he simply wrote 'Mannikin,' the ambassadors\nbroke into shouts of laughter.\n\n'Miserable wretches!' cried the Prince; 'but for the presence of that\nlovely portrait I would cut off your heads.'\n\nBut he suddenly remembered that, after all, it _was_ a funny name, and\nthat he had not yet had time to make it famous; so he was calm, and\nenquired the way to the Princess Sabella's country.\n\nThough his heart did not fail him in the least, still he felt there were\nmany difficulties before him, and he resolved to set out at once,\nwithout even taking leave of the Fairy, for fear she might try to stop\nhim. Everybody in the town who knew him made great fun of the idea of\nMannikin's undertaking such an expedition, and it even came to the ears\nof the foolish King and Queen, who laughed over it more than any of the\nothers, without having an idea that the presumptuous Mannikin was their\nonly son!\n\n[Illustration]\n\nMeantime the Prince was travelling on, though the directions he had\nreceived for his journey were none of the clearest.\n\n'Four hundred leagues north of Mount Caucasus you will receive your\norders and instructions for the conquest of the Ice Mountain.'\n\nFine marching orders, those, for a man starting from a country near\nwhere Japan is nowadays!\n\nHowever, he fared eastward, avoiding all towns, lest the people should\nlaugh at his name, for, you see, he was not a very experienced\ntraveller, and had not yet learned to enjoy a joke even if it were\nagainst himself. At night he slept in the woods, and at first he lived\nupon wild fruits; but the Fairy, who was keeping a benevolent eye upon\nhim, thought that it would never do to let him be half-starved in that\nway, so she took to feeding him with all sorts of good things while he\nwas asleep, and the Prince wondered very much that when he was awake he\nnever felt hungry! True to her plan the Fairy sent him various\nadventures to prove his courage, and he came successfully through them\nall, only in his last fight with a furious monster rather like a tiger\nhe had the ill luck to lose his horse. However, nothing daunted, he\nstruggled on on foot, and at last reached a seaport. Here he found a\nboat sailing for the coast which he desired to reach, and, having just\nenough money to pay his passage, he went on board and they started. But\nafter some days a fearful storm came on, which completely wrecked the\nlittle ship, and the Prince only saved his life by swimming a long, long\nway to the only land that was in sight, and which proved to be a desert\nisland. Here he lived by fishing and hunting, always hoping that the\ngood Fairy would presently rescue him. One day, as he was looking sadly\nout to sea, he became aware of a curious-looking boat which was drifting\nslowly towards the shore, and which presently ran into a little creek\nand there stuck fast in the sand. Prince Mannikin rushed down eagerly to\nexamine it, and saw with amazement that the masts and spars were all\nbranched, and covered thickly with leaves until it looked like a little\nwood. Thinking from the stillness that there could be no one on board,\nthe Prince pushed aside the branches and sprang over the side, and found\nhimself surrounded by the crew, who lay motionless as dead men and in a\nmost deplorable condition. They, too, had become almost like trees, and\nwere growing to the deck, or to the masts, or to the sides of the\nvessel, or to whatever they had happened to be touching when the\nenchantment fell upon them. Mannikin was struck with pity for their\nmiserable plight, and set to work with might and main to release them.\nWith the sharp point of one of his arrows he gently detached their hands\nand feet from the wood which held them fast, and carried them on shore,\none after another, where he rubbed their rigid limbs, and bathed them\nwith infusions of various herbs with such success, that, after a few\ndays, they recovered perfectly and were as fit to manage a boat as ever.\nYou may be sure that the good Fairy Genesta had something to do with\nthis marvellous cure, and she also put it into the Prince's head to rub\nthe boat itself with the same magic herbs, which cleared it entirely,\nand not before it was time, for, at the rate at which it was growing\nbefore, it would very soon have become a forest! The gratitude of the\nsailors was extreme, and they willingly promised to land the Prince upon\nany coast he pleased; but, when he questioned them about the\nextraordinary thing that had happened to them and to their ship, they\ncould in no way explain it, except that they said that, as they were\npassing along a thickly wooded coast, a sudden gust of wind had reached\nthem from the land and enveloped them in a dense cloud of dust, after\nwhich everything in the boat that was not metal had sprouted and\nblossomed, as the Prince had seen, and that they themselves had grown\ngradually numb and heavy, and had finally lost all consciousness. Prince\nMannikin was deeply interested in this curious story, and collected a\nquantity of the dust from the bottom of the boat, which he carefully\npreserved, thinking that its strange property might one day stand him in\ngood stead.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThen they joyfully left the desert island, and after a long and\nprosperous voyage over calm seas they at length came in sight of land,\nand resolved to go on shore, not only to take in a fresh stock of water\nand provisions, but also to find out, if possible, where they were and\nin what direction to proceed.\n\nAs they neared the coast they wondered if this could be another\nuninhabited land, for no human beings could be distinguished, and yet\nthat something was stirring became evident, for in the dust-clouds that\nmoved near the ground small dark forms were dimly visible. These\nappeared to be assembling at the exact spot where they were preparing to\nrun ashore, and what was their surprise to find they were nothing more\nnor less than large and beautiful spaniels, some mounted as sentries,\nothers grouped in companies and regiments, all eagerly watching their\ndisembarkation. When they found that Prince Mannikin, instead of saying,\n'Shoot them,' as they had feared, said 'Hi, good dog!' in a thoroughly\nfriendly and ingratiating way, they crowded round him with a great\nwagging of tails and giving of paws, and very soon made him understand\nthat they wanted him to leave his men with the boat and follow them. The\nPrince was so curious to know more about them that he agreed willingly;\nso, after arranging with the sailors to wait for him fifteen days, and\nthen, if he had not come back, to go on their way without him, he set\nout with his new friends. Their way lay inland, and Mannikin noticed\nwith great surprise that the fields were well cultivated and that the\ncarts and ploughs were drawn by horses or oxen, just as they might have\nbeen in any other country, and when they passed any village the cottages\nwere trim and pretty, and an air of prosperity was everywhere. At one of\nthe villages a dainty little repast was set before the Prince, and while\nhe was eating, a chariot was brought, drawn by two splendid horses,\nwhich were driven with great skill by a large spaniel. In this carriage\nhe continued his journey very comfortably, passing many similar\nequipages upon the road, and being always most courteously saluted by\nthe spaniels who occupied them. At last they drove rapidly into a large\ntown, which Prince Mannikin had no doubt was the capital of the kingdom.\nNews of his approach had evidently been received, for all the\ninhabitants were at their doors and windows, and all the little spaniels\nhad climbed upon the wall and gates to see him arrive. The Prince was\ndelighted with the hearty welcome they gave him, and looked round him\nwith the deepest interest. After passing through a few wide streets,\nwell paved, and adorned with avenues of fine trees, they drove into the\ncourtyard of a grand palace, which was full of spaniels who were\nevidently soldiers. 'The King's body-guard,' thought the Prince to\nhimself as he returned their salutations, and then the carriage stopped,\nand he was shown into the presence of the King, who lay upon a rich\nPersian carpet surrounded by several little spaniels, who were occupied\nin chasing away the flies lest they should disturb his Majesty. He was\nthe most beautiful of all spaniels, with a look of sadness in his large\neyes, which, however, quite disappeared as he sprang up to welcome\nPrince Mannikin with every demonstration of delight; after which he made\na sign to his courtiers, who came one by one to pay their respects to\nthe visitor. The Prince thought that he would find himself puzzled as to\nhow he should carry on a conversation, but as soon as he and the King\nwere once more left alone, a Secretary of State was sent for, who wrote\nfrom his Majesty's dictation a most polite speech, in which he regretted\nmuch that they were unable to converse, except in writing, the language\nof dogs being difficult to understand. As for the writing, it had\nremained the same as the Prince's own.\n\nMannikin thereupon wrote a suitable reply, and then begged the King to\nsatisfy his curiosity about all the strange things he had seen and heard\nsince his landing. This appeared to awaken sad recollections in the\nKing's mind, but he informed the Prince that he was called King Bayard,\nand that a Fairy, whose kingdom was next his own, had fallen violently\nin love with him, and had done all she could to persuade him to marry\nher; but that he could not do so, as he himself was the devoted lover of\nthe Queen of the Spice Islands. Finally, the Fairy, furious at the\nindifference with which her love was treated, had reduced him to the\nstate in which the Prince found him, leaving him unchanged in mind, but\ndeprived of the power of speech; and, not content with wreaking her\nvengeance upon the King alone, she had condemned all his subjects to a\nsimilar fate, saying:\n\n'Bark, and run upon four feet, until the time comes when virtue shall be\nrewarded by love and fortune.'\n\nWhich, as the poor King remarked, was very much the same thing as if she\nhad said, 'Remain a spaniel for ever and ever.'\n\nPrince Mannikin was quite of the same opinion; nevertheless he said\nwhat we should all have said in the same circumstances:\n\n'Your Majesty must have patience.'\n\nHe was indeed deeply sorry for poor King Bayard, and said all the\nconsoling things he could think of, promising to aid him with all his\nmight if there was anything to be done. In short they became firm\nfriends, and the King proudly displayed to Mannikin the portrait of the\nQueen of the Spice Islands, and he quite agreed that it was worth while\nto go through anything for the sake of a creature so lovely. Prince\nMannikin in his turn told his own history, and the great undertaking\nupon which he had set out, and King Bayard was able to give him some\nvaluable instructions as to which would be the best way for him to\nproceed, and then they went together to the place where the boat had\nbeen left. The sailors were delighted to see the Prince again, though\nthey had known that he was safe, and when they had taken on board all\nthe supplies which the King had sent for them, they started once more.\nThe King and Prince parted with much regret, and the former insisted\nthat Mannikin should take with him one of his own pages, named Mousta,\nwho was charged to attend to him everywhere, and serve him faithfully,\nwhich he promised to do.\n\nThe wind being favourable they were soon out of hearing of the general\nhowl of regret from the whole army, which had been given by order of the\nKing, as a great compliment, and it was not long before the land was\nentirely lost to view. They met with no further adventures worth\nspeaking of, and presently found themselves within two leagues of the\nharbour for which they were making. The Prince, however, thought it\nwould suit him better to land where he was, so as to avoid the town,\nsince he had no money left and was very doubtful as to what he should do\nnext. So the sailors set him and Mousta on shore, and then went back\nsorrowfully to their ship, while the Prince and his attendant walked off\nin what looked to them the most promising direction. They soon reached a\nlovely green meadow on the border of a wood, which seemed to them so\npleasant after their long voyage that they sat down to rest in the shade\nand amused themselves by watching the gambols and antics of a pretty\ntiny monkey in the trees close by. The Prince presently became so\nfascinated by it that he sprang up and tried to catch it, but it eluded\nhis grasp and kept just out of arm's reach, until it had made him\npromise to follow wherever it led him, and then it sprang upon his\nshoulder and whispered in his ear:\n\n'We have no money, my poor Mannikin, and we are altogether badly off,\nand at a loss to know what to do next.'\n\n'Yes, indeed,' answered the Prince ruefully, 'and I have nothing to give\nyou, no sugar or biscuits, or anything that you like, my pretty one.'\n\n'Since you are so thoughtful for me, and so patient about your own\naffairs,' said the little monkey, 'I will show you the way to the Golden\nRock, only you must leave Mousta to wait for you here.'\n\nPrince Mannikin agreed willingly, and then the little monkey sprang from\nhis shoulder to the nearest tree, and began to run through the wood from\nbranch to branch, crying, 'Follow me.'\n\nThis the Prince did not find quite so easy, but the little monkey waited\nfor him and showed him the easiest places, until presently the wood grew\nthinner and they came out into a little clear grassy space at the foot\nof a mountain, in the midst of which stood a single rock, about ten feet\nhigh. When they were quite close to it the little monkey said:\n\n'This stone looks pretty hard, but give it a blow with your spear and\nlet us see what will happen.'\n\nSo the Prince took his spear and gave the rock a vigorous dig, which\nsplit off several pieces, and showed that, though the surface was thinly\ncoated with stone, inside it was one solid mass of pure gold.\n\nThereupon the little monkey said, laughing at his astonishment:\n\n'I make you a present of what you have broken off; take as much of it as\nyou think proper.'\n\nThe Prince thanked her gratefully, and picked up one of the smallest of\nthe lumps of gold; as he did so the little monkey was suddenly\ntransformed into a tall and gracious lady, who said to him:\n\n'If you are always as kind and persevering and easily contented as you\nare now you may hope to accomplish the most difficult tasks; go on your\nway and have no fear that you will be troubled any more for lack of\ngold, for that little piece which you modestly chose shall never grow\nless, use it as much as you will. But that you may see the danger you\nhave escaped by your moderation, come with me.' So saying she led him\nback into the wood by a different path, and he saw that it was full of\nmen and women; their faces were pale and haggard, and they ran hither\nand thither seeking madly upon the ground, or in the air, starting at\nevery sound, pushing and trampling upon one another in their frantic\neagerness to find the way to the Golden Rock.\n\n'You see how they toil,' said the Fairy; 'but it is all of no avail:\nthey will end by dying of despair, as hundreds have done before them.'\n\nAs soon as they had got back to the place where they had left Mousta the\nFairy disappeared, and the Prince and his faithful Squire, who had\ngreeted him with every demonstration of joy, took the nearest way to the\ncity. Here they stayed several days, while the Prince provided himself\nwith horses and attendants, and made many enquiries about the Princess\nSabella, and the way to her kingdom, which was still so far away that he\ncould hear but little, and that of the vaguest description, but when he\npresently reached Mount Caucasus it was quite a different matter. Here\nthey seemed to talk of nothing but the Princess Sabella, and strangers\nfrom all parts of the world were travelling towards her father's Court.\n\nThe Prince heard plenty of assurances as to her beauty and her riches,\nbut he also heard of the immense number of his rivals and their power.\nOne brought an army at his back, another had vast treasures, a third was\nas handsome and accomplished as it was possible to be; while, as to poor\nMannikin, he had nothing but his determination to succeed, his faithful\nspaniel, and his ridiculous name--which last was hardly likely to help\nhim, but as he could not alter it he wisely determined not to think of\nit any more. After journeying for two whole months they came at last to\nTrelintin, the capital of the Princess Sabella's kingdom, and here he\nheard dismal stories about the Ice Mountain, and how none of those who\nhad attempted to climb it had ever come back. He heard also the story of\nKing Farda-Kinbras, Sabella's father. It appeared that he, being a rich\nand powerful monarch, had married a lovely Princess named Birbantine,\nand they were as happy as the day was long--so happy that as they were\nout sledging one day they were foolish enough to defy fate to spoil\ntheir happiness.\n\n'We shall see about that,' grumbled an old hag who sat by the wayside\nblowing her fingers to keep them warm. The King thereupon was very\nangry, and wanted to punish the woman; but the Queen prevented him,\nsaying:\n\n[Illustration: GORGONZOLA FLIES OFF ON HER DRAGON]\n\n'Alas! sire, do not let us make bad worse; no doubt this is a Fairy!'\n\n'You are right there,' said the old woman, and immediately she stood up,\nand as they gazed at her in horror she grew gigantic and terrible, her\nstaff turned to a fiery dragon with outstretched wings, her ragged cloak\nto a golden mantle, and her wooden shoes to two bundles of rockets. 'You\nare right there, and you will see what will come of your fine goings on,\nand remember the Fairy Gorgonzola!' So saying she mounted the dragon and\nflew off, the rockets shooting in all directions and leaving long trails\nof sparks.\n\nIn vain did Farda-Kinbras and Birbantine beg her to return, and\nendeavour by their humble apologies to pacify her; she never so much as\nlooked at them, and was very soon out of sight, leaving them a prey to\nall kinds of dismal forebodings. Very soon after this the Queen had a\nlittle daughter, who was the most beautiful creature ever seen; all the\nFairies of the North were invited to her christening, and warned against\nthe malicious Gorgonzola. She also was invited, but she neither came to\nthe banquet nor received her present; but as soon as all the others were\nseated at table, after bestowing their gifts upon the little Princess,\nshe stole into the Palace, disguised as a black cat, and hid herself\nunder the cradle until the nurses and the cradle-rockers had all turned\ntheir backs, and then she sprang out, and in an instant had stolen the\nlittle Princess's heart and made her escape, only being chased by a few\ndogs and scullions on her way across the courtyard. Once outside she\nmounted her chariot and flew straight away to the North Pole, where she\nshut up her stolen treasure on the summit of the Ice Mountain, and\nsurrounded it with so many difficulties that she felt quite easy about\nits remaining there as long as the Princess lived, and then she went\nhome, chuckling at her success. As to the other Fairies, they went home\nafter the banquet without discovering that anything was amiss, and so\nthe King and Queen were quite happy. Sabella grew prettier day by day.\nShe learnt everything a Princess ought to know without the slightest\ntrouble, and yet something always seemed lacking to make her perfectly\ncharming. She had an exquisite voice, but whether her songs were grave\nor gay it did not matter, she did not seem to know what they meant; and\neveryone who heard her said:\n\n'She certainly sings perfectly; but there is no tenderness, no heart in\nher voice.' Poor Sabella! how could there be when her heart was far away\non the Ice Mountains? And it was just the same with all the other things\nthat she did. As time went on, in spite of the admiration of the whole\nCourt and the blind fondness of the King and Queen, it became more and\nmore evident that something was fatally wrong: for those who love no one\ncannot long be loved; and at last the King called a general assembly,\nand invited the Fairies to attend, that they might, if possible, find\nout what was the matter. After explaining their grief as well as he\ncould, he ended by begging them to see the Princess for themselves. 'It\nis certain,' said he, 'that something is wrong--_what_ it is I don't\nknow how to tell you, but in some way your work is imperfect.'\n\nThey all assured him that, so far as they knew, everything had been done\nfor the Princess, and they had forgotten nothing that they could bestow\non so good a neighbour as the King had been to them. After this they\nwent to see Sabella; but they had no sooner entered her presence than\nthey cried out with one accord:\n\n'Oh! horror!--she has no heart!'\n\nOn hearing this frightful announcement, the King and Queen gave a cry of\ndespair, and entreated the Fairies to find some remedy for such an\nunheard-of misfortune. Thereupon the eldest Fairy consulted her Book of\nMagic, which she always carried about with her, hung to her girdle by a\nthick silver chain, and there she found out at once that it was\nGorgonzola who had stolen the Princess's heart, and also discovered what\nthe wicked old Fairy had done with it.\n\n'What shall we do? What shall we do?' cried the King and Queen in one\nbreath.\n\n'You must certainly suffer much annoyance from seeing and loving\nSabella, who is nothing but a beautiful image,' replied the Fairy, 'and\nthis must go on for a long time; but I think I see that, in the end, she\nwill once more regain her heart. My advice is that you shall at once\ncause her portrait to be sent all over the world, and promise her hand\nand all her possessions to the Prince who is successful in reaching her\nheart. Her beauty alone is sufficient to engage all the Princes of the\nworld in the quest.'\n\nThis was accordingly done, and Prince Mannikin heard that already five\nhundred Princes had perished in the snow and ice, not to mention their\nsquires and pages, and that more continued to arrive daily, eager to try\ntheir fortune. After some consideration he determined to present himself\nat Court; but his arrival made no stir, as his retinue was as\ninconsiderable as his stature, and the splendour of his rivals was great\nenough to throw even Farda-Kinbras himself into the shade. However, he\npaid his respects to the King very gracefully, and asked permission to\nkiss the hand of the Princess in the usual manner; but when he said he\nwas called 'Mannikin,' the King could hardly repress a smile, and the\nPrinces who stood by openly shouted with laughter.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTurning to the King, Prince Mannikin said with great dignity:\n\n'Pray laugh if it pleases your Majesty, I am glad that it is in my power\nto afford you any amusement; but I am not a plaything for these\ngentlemen, and I must beg them to dismiss any ideas of that kind from\ntheir minds at once,' and with that he turned upon the one who had\nlaughed the loudest and proudly challenged him to a single combat. This\nPrince, who was called Fadasse, accepted the challenge very scornfully,\nmocking at Mannikin, whom he felt sure had no chance against himself;\nbut the meeting was arranged for the next day. When Prince Mannikin\nquitted the King's presence he was conducted to the audience hall of the\nPrincess Sabella. The sight of so much beauty and magnificence almost\ntook his breath away for an instant, but, recovering himself with an\neffort, he said:\n\n'Lovely Princess, irresistibly drawn by the beauty of your portrait, I\ncome from the other end of the world to offer my services to you. My\ndevotion knows no bounds, but my absurd name has already involved me in\na quarrel with one of your courtiers. To-morrow I am to fight this ugly,\novergrown Prince, and I beg you to honour the combat with your presence,\nand prove to the world that there is nothing in a name, and that you\ndeign to accept Mannikin as your knight.'\n\nWhen it came to this the Princess could not help being amused, for,\nthough she had no heart, she was not without humour. However, she\nanswered graciously that she accepted with pleasure, which encouraged\nthe Prince to entreat further that she would not show any favour to his\nadversary.\n\n'Alas!' said she, 'I favour none of these foolish people, who weary me\nwith their sentiment and their folly. I do very well as I am, and yet\nfrom one year's end to another they talk of nothing but delivering me\nfrom some imaginary affliction. Not a word do I understand of all their\npratings about love, and who knows what dull things besides, which, I\ndeclare to you, I cannot even remember.'\n\nMannikin was quick enough to gather from this speech that to amuse and\ninterest the Princess would be a far surer way of gaining her favour\nthan to add himself to the list of those who continually teased her\nabout that mysterious thing called 'love' which she was so incapable of\ncomprehending. So he began to talk of his rivals, and found in each of\nthem something to make merry over, in which diversion the Princess\njoined him heartily, and so well did he succeed in his attempt to amuse\nher that before very long she declared that of all the people at Court\nhe was the one to whom she preferred to talk.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe following day, at the time appointed for the combat, when the King,\nthe Queen, and the Princess had taken their places, and the whole Court\nand the whole town were assembled to see the show, Prince Fadasse rode\ninto the lists magnificently armed and accoutred, followed by\ntwenty-four squires and a hundred men-at-arms, each one leading a\nsplendid horse, while Prince Mannikin entered from the other side armed\nonly with his spear and followed by the faithful Mousta. The contrast\nbetween the two champions was so great that there was a shout of\nlaughter from the whole assembly; but when at the sounding of a trumpet\nthe combatants rushed upon each other, and Mannikin, eluding the blow\naimed at him, succeeded in thrusting Prince Fadasse from his horse and\npinning him to the sand with his spear, it changed to a murmur of\nadmiration.\n\nSo soon as he had him at his mercy, however, Mannikin, turning to the\nPrincess, assured her that he had no desire to kill anyone who called\nhimself her courtier, and then he bade the furious and humiliated\nFadasse rise and thank the Princess to whom he owed his life. Then, amid\nthe sounding of the trumpets and the shoutings of the people, he and\nMousta retired gravely from the lists.\n\nThe King soon sent for him to congratulate him upon his success, and to\noffer him a lodging in the Palace, which he joyfully accepted. While the\nPrincess expressed a wish to have Mousta brought to her, and, when the\nPrince sent for him, she was so delighted with his courtly manners and\nhis marvellous intelligence that she entreated Mannikin to give him to\nher for her own. The Prince consented with alacrity, not only out of\npoliteness, but because he foresaw that to have a faithful friend always\nnear the Princess might some day be of great service to him. All these\nevents made Prince Mannikin a person of much more consequence at the\nCourt. Very soon after, there arrived upon the frontier the Ambassador\nof a very powerful King, who sent to Farda-Kinbras the following letter,\nat the same time demanding permission to enter the capital in state to\nreceive the answer:\n\n'I, Brandatimor, to Farda-Kinbras send greeting. If I had before this\ntime seen the portrait of your beautiful daughter Sabella I should not\nhave permitted all these adventurers and petty Princes to be dancing\nattendance and getting themselves frozen with the absurd idea of\nmeriting her hand. For myself I am not afraid of any rivals, and, now I\nhave declared my intention of marrying your daughter, no doubt they will\nat once withdraw their pretensions. My Ambassador has orders, therefore,\nto make arrangements for the Princess to come and be married to me\nwithout delay--for I attach no importance at all to the farrago of\nnonsense which you have caused to be published all over the world about\nthis Ice Mountain. If the Princess really has no heart, be assured that\nI shall not concern myself about it, since, if anybody can help her to\ndiscover one, it is myself. My worthy father-in-law, farewell!'\n\nThe reading of this letter embarrassed and displeased Farda-Kinbras and\nBirbantine immensely, while the Princess was furious at the insolence of\nthe demand. They all three resolved that its contents must be kept a\nprofound secret until they could decide what reply should be sent, but\nMousta contrived to send word of all that had passed to Prince Mannikin.\nHe was naturally alarmed and indignant, and, after thinking it over a\nlittle, he begged an audience of the Princess, and led the conversation\nso cunningly up to the subject that was uppermost in her thoughts, as\nwell as his own, that she presently told him all about the matter and\nasked his advice as to what it would be best to do. This was exactly\nwhat he had not been able to decide for himself; however, he replied\nthat he should advise her to gain a little time by promising her answer\nafter the grand entry of the Ambassador, and this was accordingly done.\n\nThe Ambassador did not at all like being put off after that fashion, but\nhe was obliged to be content, and only said very arrogantly that so soon\nas his equipages arrived, as he expected they would do very shortly, he\nwould give all the people of the city, and the stranger Princes with\nwhom it was inundated, an idea of the power and the magnificence of his\nmaster. Mannikin, in despair, resolved that he would for once beg the\nassistance of the kind Fairy Genesta. He often thought of her and always\nwith gratitude, but from the moment of his setting out he had determined\nto seek her aid only on the greatest occasions. That very night, when he\nhad fallen asleep quite worn out with thinking over all the difficulties\nof the situation, he dreamed that the Fairy stood beside him, and said:\n\n'Mannikin, you have done very well so far; continue to please me and you\nshall always find good friends when you need them most. As for this\naffair with the Ambassador, you can assure Sabella that she may look\nforward tranquilly to his triumphal entry, since it will all turn out\nwell for her in the end.'\n\nThe Prince tried to throw himself at her feet to thank her, but woke to\nfind it was all a dream; nevertheless he took fresh courage, and went\nnext day to see the Princess, to whom he gave many mysterious assurances\nthat all would yet be well. He even went so far as to ask her if she\nwould not be very grateful to anyone who would rid her of the insolent\nBrandatimor. To which she replied that her gratitude would know no\nbounds. Then he wanted to know what would be her best wish for the\nperson who was lucky enough to accomplish it. To which she said that she\nwould wish them to be as insensible to the folly called 'love' as she\nwas herself!\n\nThis was indeed a crushing speech to make to such a devoted lover as\nPrince Mannikin, but he concealed the pain it caused him with great\ncourage.\n\nAnd now the Ambassador sent to say that on the very next day he would\ncome in state to receive his answer, and from the earliest dawn the\ninhabitants were astir, to secure the best places for the grand sight;\nbut the good Fairy Genesta was providing them an amount of amusement\nthey were far from expecting, for she so enchanted the eyes of all the\nspectators that when the Ambassador's gorgeous procession appeared, the\nsplendid uniforms seemed to them miserable rags that a beggar would\nhave been ashamed to wear, the prancing horses appeared as wretched\nskeletons hardly able to drag one leg after the other, while their\ntrappings, which really sparkled with gold and jewels, looked like old\nsheepskins that would not have been good enough for a plough horse. The\npages resembled the ugliest sweeps. The trumpets gave no more sound than\nwhistles made of onion-stalks, or combs wrapped in paper; while the\ntrain of fifty carriages looked no better than fifty donkey carts. In\nthe last of these sat the Ambassador with the haughty and scornful air\nwhich he considered becoming in the representative of so powerful a\nmonarch: for this was the crowning point of the absurdity of the whole\nprocession, that all who took part in it wore the expression of vanity\nand self-satisfaction and pride in their own appearance and all their\nsurroundings which they believed their splendour amply justified.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe laughter and howls of derision from the whole crowd rose ever louder\nand louder as the extraordinary cortege advanced, and at last reached\nthe ears of the King as he waited in the audience hall, and before the\nprocession reached the palace he had been informed of its nature, and,\nsupposing that it must be intended as an insult, he ordered the gates\nto be closed. You may imagine the fury of the Ambassador when, after all\nhis pomp and pride, the King absolutely and unaccountably refused to\nreceive him. He raved wildly both against King and people, and the\ncortege retired in great confusion, jeered at and pelted with stones and\nmud by the enraged crowd. It is needless to say that he left the country\nas fast as horses could carry him, but not before he had declared war,\nwith the most terrible menaces, threatening to devastate the country\nwith fire and sword.\n\nSome days after this disastrous embassy King Bayard sent couriers to\nPrince Mannikin with a most friendly letter, offering his services in\nany difficulty, and enquiring with the deepest interest how he fared.\n\nMannikin at once replied, relating all that had happened since they\nparted, not forgetting to mention the event which had just involved\nFarda-Kinbras and Brandatimor in this deadly quarrel, and he ended by\nentreating his faithful friend to despatch a few thousands of his\nveteran spaniels to his assistance.\n\nNeither the King, the Queen, nor the Princess could in the least\nunderstand the amazing conduct of Brandatimor's Ambassador; nevertheless\nthe preparations for the war went forward briskly and all the Princes\nwho had not gone on towards the Ice Mountain offered their services, at\nthe same time demanding all the best appointments in the King's army.\nMannikin was one of the first to volunteer, but he only asked to go as\naide-de-camp to the Commander-in-chief, who was a gallant soldier and\ncelebrated for his victories. As soon as the army could be got together\nit was marched to the frontier, where it met the opposing force headed\nby Brandatimor himself, who was fall of fury, determined to avenge the\ninsult to his Ambassador and to possess himself of the Princess Sabella.\nAll the army of Farda-Kinbras could do, being so heavily outnumbered,\nwas to act upon the defensive, and before long Mannikin won the esteem\nof the officers for his ability, and of the soldiers for his courage,\nand care for their welfare, and in all the skirmishes which he conducted\nhe had the good fortune to vanquish the enemy.\n\nAt last Brandatimor engaged the whole army in a terrific conflict, and\nthough the troops of Farda-Kinbras fought with desperate courage, their\ngeneral was killed, and they were defeated and forced to retreat with\nimmense loss. Mannikin did wonders, and half-a-dozen times turned the\nretreating forces and beat back the enemy; and he afterwards collected\ntroops enough to keep them in check until, the severe winter setting in,\nput an end to hostilities for a while.\n\nHe then returned to the Court, where consternation reigned. The King was\nin despair at the death of his trusty general, and ended by imploring\nMannikin to take the command of the army, and his counsel was followed\nin all the affairs of the Court. He followed up his former plan of\namusing the Princess, and on no account reminding her of that tedious\nthing called 'love,' so that she was always glad to see him, and the\nwinter slipped by gaily for both of them.\n\nThe Prince was all the while secretly making plans for the next\ncampaign; he received private intelligence of the arrival of a strong\nreinforcement of Spaniels, to whom he sent orders to post themselves\nalong the frontier without attracting attention, and as soon as he\npossibly could he held a consultation with their Commander, who was an\nold and experienced warrior. Following his advice, he decided to have a\npitched battle as soon as the enemy advanced, and this Brandatimor lost\nnot a moment in doing, as he was perfectly persuaded that he was now\ngoing to make an end of the war and utterly vanquish Farda-Kinbras. But\nno sooner had he given the order to charge than the Spaniels, who had\nmingled with his troops unperceived, leaped each upon the horse nearest\nto him, and not only threw the whole squadron into confusion by the\nterror they caused, but, springing at the throats of the riders,\nunhorsed many of them by the suddenness of their attack; then turning\nthe horses to the rear, they spread consternation everywhere, and made\nit easy for Prince Mannikin to gain a complete victory. He met\nBrandatimor in single combat, and succeeded in taking him prisoner; but\nhe did not live to reach the Court, to which Mannikin had sent him: his\npride killed him at the thought of appearing before Sabella under these\naltered circumstances. In the meantime Prince Fadasse and all the others\nwho had remained behind were setting out with all speed for the conquest\nof the Ice Mountain, being afraid that Prince Mannikin might prove as\nsuccessful in that as he seemed to be in everything else, and when\nMannikin returned he heard of it with great annoyance. True he had been\nserving the Princess, but she only admired and praised him for his\ngallant deeds, and seemed no whit nearer bestowing on him the love he so\nardently desired, and all the comfort Mousta could give him on the\nsubject was that at least she loved no one else, and with that he had\nto content himself. But he determined that, come what might, he would\ndelay no longer, but attempt the great undertaking for which he had come\nso far. When he went to take leave of the King and Queen they entreated\nhim not to go, as they had just heard that Prince Fadasse, and all who\naccompanied him, had perished in the snow; but he persisted in his\nresolve. As for Sabella, she gave him her hand to kiss with precisely\nthe same gracious indifference as she had given it to him the first time\nthey met. It happened that this farewell took place before the whole\nCourt, and so great a favourite had Prince Mannikin become that they\nwere all indignant at the coldness with which the Princess treated him.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nFinally the King said to him:\n\n'Prince, you have constantly refused all the gifts which, in my\ngratitude for your invaluable services, I have offered to you, but I\nwish the Princess to present you with her cloak of marten's fur, and\n_that_ I hope you will not reject!' Now this was a splendid fur mantle\nwhich the Princess was very fond of wearing, not so much because she\nfelt cold, as that its richness set off to perfection the delicate tints\nof her complexion and the brilliant gold of her hair. However, she took\nit off, and with graceful politeness begged Prince Mannikin to accept\nit, which you may be sure he was charmed to do, and, taking only this\nand a little bundle of all kinds of wood, and accompanied only by two\nspaniels out of the fifty who had stayed with him when the war was\nended, he set forth, receiving many tokens of love and favour from the\npeople in every town he passed through. At the last little village he\nleft his horse behind him, to begin his toilful march through the snow,\nwhich extended, blank and terrible, in every direction as far as the eye\ncould see. Here he had appointed to meet the other forty-eight spaniels,\nwho received him joyfully, and assured him that, happen what might, they\nwould follow and serve him faithfully. And so they started, full of\nheart and hope. At first there was a slight track, difficult, but not\nimpossible to follow; but this was soon lost, and the Pole Star was\ntheir only guide. When the time came to call a halt, the Prince, who had\nafter much consideration decided on his plan of action, caused a few\ntwigs from the faggot he had brought with him to be planted in the snow,\nand then he sprinkled over them a pinch of the magic powder he had\ncollected from the enchanted boat. To his great joy they instantly began\nto sprout and grow, and in a marvellously short time the camp was\nsurrounded by a perfect grove of trees of all sorts, which blossomed and\nbore ripe fruit, so that all their wants were easily supplied, and they\nwere able to make huge fires to warm themselves. The Prince then sent\nout several spaniels to reconnoitre, and they had the good luck to\ndiscover a horse laden with provisions stuck fast in the snow. They at\nonce fetched their comrades, and brought the spoil triumphantly into the\ncamp, and, as it consisted principally of biscuits, not a spaniel among\nthem went supperless to sleep. In this way they journeyed by day and\nencamped safely at night, always remembering to take on a few branches\nto provide them with food and shelter. They passed by the way armies of\nthose who had set out upon the perilous enterprise, who stood frozen\nstiffly, without sense or motion; but Prince Mannikin strictly forbade\nthat any attempt should be made to thaw them. So they went on and on for\nmore than three months, and day by day the Ice Mountain, which they had\nseen for a long time, grew clearer, until at last they stood close to\nit, and shuddered at its height and steepness. But by patience and\nperseverance they crept up foot by foot, aided by their fires of magic\nwood, without which they must have perished in the intense cold, until\npresently they stood at the gates of the magnificent Ice Palace which\ncrowned the mountain, where, in deadly silence and icy sleep, lay the\nheart of Sabella. Now the difficulty became immense, for if they\nmaintained enough heat to keep themselves alive they were in danger\nevery moment of melting the blocks of solid ice of which the palace was\nentirely built, and bringing the whole structure down upon their heads;\nbut cautiously and quickly they traversed courtyards and halls, until\nthey found themselves at the foot of a vast throne, where, upon a\ncushion of snow, lay an enormous and brilliantly sparkling diamond,\nwhich contained the heart of the lovely Princess Sabella. Upon the\nlowest step of the throne was inscribed in icy letters, 'Whosoever thou\nart who by courage and virtue canst win the heart of Sabella enjoy\npeacefully the good fortune which thou hast richly deserved.'\n\n[Illustration]\n\nPrince Mannikin bounded forward, and had just strength left to grasp the\nprecious diamond which contained all he coveted in the world before he\nfell insensible upon the snowy cushion. But his good spaniels lost no\ntime in rushing to the rescue, and between them they bore him hastily\nfrom the hall, and not a moment too soon, for all around them they heard\nthe clang of the falling blocks of ice as the Fairy Palace slowly\ncollapsed under the unwonted heat. Not until they reached the foot of\nthe mountain did they pause to restore the Prince to consciousness, and\nthen his joy to find himself the possessor of Sabella's heart knew no\nbounds.\n\nWith all speed they began to retrace their steps, but this time the\nhappy Prince could not bear the sight of his defeated and disappointed\nrivals, whose frozen forms lined his triumphant way. He gave orders to\nhis spaniels to spare no pains to restore them to life, and so\nsuccessful were they that day by day his train increased, so that by the\ntime he got back to the little village where he had left his horse he\nwas escorted by five hundred sovereign Princes, and knights and squires\nwithout number, and he was so courteous and unassuming that they all\nfollowed him willingly, anxious to do him honour. But then he was so\nhappy and blissful himself that he found it easy to be at peace with all\nthe world. It was not long before he met the faithful Mousta, who was\ncoming at the top of his speed hoping to meet the Prince, that he might\ntell him of the sudden and wonderful change that had come over the\nPrincess, who had become gentle and thoughtful and had talked to him of\nnothing but Prince Mannikin, of the hardships she feared he might be\nsuffering, and of her anxiety for him, and all this with a hundred\ntender expressions which put the finishing stroke to the Prince's\ndelight. Then came a courier bearing the congratulations of the King and\nQueen, who had just heard of his successful return, and there was even a\ngraceful compliment from Sabella herself. The Prince sent Mousta back to\nher, and he was welcomed with joy, for was he not her lover's present?\n\nAt last the travellers reached the capital, and were received with regal\nmagnificence. Farda-Kinbras and Birbantine embraced Prince Mannikin,\ndeclaring that they regarded him as their heir and the future husband of\nthe Princess, to which he replied that they did him too much honour. And\nthen he was admitted into the presence of the Princess, who for the\nfirst time in her life blushed as he kissed her hand, and could not find\na word to say. But the Prince, throwing himself on his knees beside her,\nheld out the splendid diamond, saying:\n\n'Madam, this treasure is yours, since none of the dangers and\ndifficulties I have gone through have been sufficient to make me deserve\nit.'\n\n'Ah! Prince,' said she, 'if I take it, it is only that I may give it\nback to you, since truly it belongs to you already.'\n\nAt this moment in came the King and Queen, and interrupted them by\nasking all the questions imaginable, and not infrequently the same over\nand over again. It seems that there is always one thing that is sure to\nbe said about an event by everybody, and Prince Mannikin found that the\nquestion which he was asked by more than a thousand people on this\nparticular occasion was:\n\n'And didn't you find it very cold?'\n\nThe King had come to request Prince Mannikin and the Princess to follow\nhim to the Council Chamber, which they did, not knowing that he meant to\npresent the Prince to all the nobles assembled there as his son-in-law\nand successor. But when Mannikin perceived his intention, he begged\npermission to speak first, and told his whole story, even to the fact\nthat he believed himself to be a peasant's son. Scarcely had he finished\nspeaking when the sky grew black, the thunder growled, and the lightning\nflashed, and in the blaze of light the good Fairy Genesta suddenly\nappeared. Turning to Prince Mannikin, she said:\n\n'I am satisfied with you, since you have shown not only courage but a\ngood heart.' Then she addressed King Farda-Kinbras, and informed him of\nthe real history of the Prince, and how she had determined to give him\nthe education she knew would be best for a man who was to command\nothers. 'You have already found the advantage of having a faithful\nfriend,' she added to the Prince, 'and now you will have the pleasure of\nseeing King Bayard and his subjects regain their natural forms as a\nreward for his kindness to you.'\n\nJust then arrived a chariot drawn by eagles, which proved to contain the\nfoolish King and Queen, who embraced their long-lost son with great joy,\nand were greatly struck with the fact that they did indeed find him\ncovered with fur! While they were caressing Sabella and wringing her\nhands (which is a favourite form of endearment with foolish people)\nchariots were seen approaching from all points of the compass,\ncontaining numbers of Fairies.\n\n'Sire,' said Genesta to Farda-Kinbras, 'I have taken the liberty of\nappointing your Court as a meeting-place for all the Fairies who could\nspare the time to come; and I hope you can arrange to hold the great\nball, which we have once in a hundred years, on this occasion.'\n\nThe King having suitably acknowledged the honour done him, was next\nreconciled to Gorgonzola, and they two presently opened the ball\ntogether. The Fairy Marsontine restored their natural forms to King\nBayard and all his subjects, and he appeared once more as handsome a\nking as you could wish to see. One of the Fairies immediately despatched\nher chariot for the Queen of the Spice Islands, and their wedding took\nplace at the same time as that of Prince Mannikin and the lovely and\ngracious Sabella. They lived happily ever afterwards, and their vast\nkingdoms were presently divided between their children.\n\nThe Prince, out of grateful remembrance of the Princess Sabella's first\ngift to him, bestowed the right of bearing her name upon the most\nbeautiful of the martens, and that is why they are called _sables_ to\nthis day.\n\n Comte de Caylus.\n\n\n\n\n _THE ENCHANTED RING_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a young man named Rosimond, who was as good\nand handsome as his elder brother Bramintho was ugly and wicked. Their\nmother detested her eldest son, and had only eyes for the youngest. This\nexcited Bramintho's jealousy, and he invented a horrible story in order\nto ruin his brother. He told his father that Rosimond was in the habit\nof visiting a neighbour who was an enemy of the family, and betraying to\nhim all that went on in the house, and was plotting with him to poison\ntheir father.\n\nThe father flew into a rage, and flogged his son till the blood came.\nThen he threw him into prison and kept him for three days without food,\nand after that he turned him out of the house, and threatened to kill\nhim if he ever came back. The mother was miserable, and did nothing but\nweep, but she dared not say anything.\n\nThe youth left his home with tears in his eyes, not knowing where to go,\nand wandered about for many hours till he came to a thick wood. Night\novertook him at the foot of a great rock, and he fell asleep on a bank\nof moss, lulled by the music of a little brook.\n\nIt was dawn when he woke, and he saw before him a beautiful woman seated\non a grey horse, with trappings of gold, who looked as if she were\npreparing for the hunt.\n\n'Have you seen a stag and some deerhounds go by?' she asked.\n\n'No, madam,' he replied.\n\nThen she added, 'You look unhappy; is there anything the matter? Take\nthis ring, which will make you the happiest and most powerful of men,\nprovided you never make a bad use of it. If you turn the diamond inside,\nyou will become invisible. If you turn it outside, you will become\nvisible again. If you place it on your little finger, you will take the\nshape of the King's son, followed by a splendid court. If you put it on\nyour fourth finger, you will take your own shape.'\n\nThen the young man understood that it was a Fairy who was speaking to\nhim, and when she had finished she plunged into the woods. The youth was\nvery impatient to try the ring, and returned home immediately. He found\nthat the Fairy had spoken the truth, and that he could see and hear\neverything, while he himself was unseen. It lay with him to revenge\nhimself, if he chose, on his brother, without the slightest danger to\nhimself, and he told no one but his mother of all the strange things\nthat had befallen him. He afterwards put the enchanted ring on his\nlittle finger, and appeared as the King's son, followed by a hundred\nfine horses, and a guard of officers all richly dressed.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nHis father was much surprised to see the King's son in his quiet little\nhouse, and he felt rather embarrassed, not knowing what was the proper\nway to behave on such a grand occasion. Then Rosimond asked him how many\nsons he had.\n\n'Two,' replied he.\n\n'I wish to see them,' said Rosimond. 'Send for them at once. I desire to\ntake them both to Court, in order to make their fortunes.'\n\nThe father hesitated, then answered: 'Here is the eldest, whom I have\nthe honour to present to your Highness.'\n\n'But where is the youngest? I wish to see him too,' persisted Rosimond.\n\n'He is not here,' said the father. 'I had to punish him for a fault, and\nhe has run away.'\n\nThen Rosimond replied, 'You should have shown him what was right, but\nnot have punished him. However, let the elder come with me, and as for\nyou, follow these two guards, who will escort you to a place that I will\npoint out to them.'\n\nThen the two guards led off the father, and the Fairy of whom you have\nheard found him in the forest, and beat him with a golden birch rod, and\ncast him into a cave that was very deep and dark, where he lay\nenchanted. 'Lie there,' she said, 'till your son comes to take you out\nagain.'\n\nMeanwhile the son went to the King's palace, and arrived just when the\nreal prince was absent. He had sailed away to make war on a distant\nisland, but the winds had been contrary, and he had been shipwrecked on\nunknown shores, and taken captive by a savage people. Rosimond made his\nappearance at Court in the character of the Prince, whom everyone wept\nfor as lost, and told them that he had been rescued when at the point of\ndeath by some merchants. His return was the signal for great public\nrejoicings, and the King was so overcome that he became quite\nspeechless, and did nothing but embrace his son. The Queen was even more\ndelighted, and fetes were ordered over the whole kingdom.\n\nOne day the false Prince said to his real brother, 'Bramintho, you know\nthat I brought you here from your native village in order to make your\nfortune; but I have found out that you are a liar, and that by your\ndeceit you have been the cause of all the troubles of your brother\nRosimond. He is in hiding here, and I desire that you shall speak to\nhim, and listen to his reproaches.'\n\nBramintho trembled at these words, and, flinging himself at the Prince's\nfeet, confessed his crime.\n\n'That is not enough,' said Rosimond. 'It is to your brother that you\nmust confess, and I desire that you shall ask his forgiveness. He will\nbe very generous if he grants it, and it will be more than you deserve.\nHe is in my ante-room, where you shall see him at once. I myself will\nretire into another apartment, so as to leave you alone with him.'\n\nBramintho entered, as he was told, into the ante-room. Then Rosimond\nchanged the ring, and passed into the room by another door.\n\nBramintho was filled with shame as soon as he saw his brother's face. He\nimplored his pardon, and promised to atone for all his faults. Rosimond\nembraced him with tears, and at once forgave him, adding, 'I am in great\nfavour with the King. It rests with me to have your head cut off, or to\ncondemn you to pass the remainder of your life in prison; but I desire\nto be as good to you as you have been wicked to me.' Bramintho, confused\nand ashamed, listened to his words without daring to lift his eyes or to\nremind Rosimond that he was his brother. After this, Rosimond gave out\nthat he was going to make a secret voyage, to marry a Princess who lived\nin a neighbouring kingdom; but in reality he only went to see his\nmother, whom he told all that had happened at the Court, giving her at\nthe same time some money that she needed, for the King allowed him to\ntake exactly what he liked, though he was always careful not to abuse\nthis permission. Just then a furious war broke out between the King his\nmaster and the Sovereign of the adjoining country, who was a bad man and\none that never kept his word. Rosimond went straight to the palace of\nthe wicked King, and by means of his ring was able to be present at all\nthe councils, and learnt all their schemes, so that he was able to\nforestall them and bring them to naught. He took the command of the army\nwhich was brought against the wicked King, and defeated him in a\nglorious battle, so that peace was at once concluded on conditions that\nwere just to everyone.\n\nHenceforth the King's one idea was to marry the young man to a Princess\nwho was the heiress to a neighbouring kingdom, and, besides that, was as\nlovely as the day. But one morning, while Rosimond was hunting in the\nforest where for the first time he had seen the Fairy, his benefactress\nsuddenly appeared before him. 'Take heed,' she said to him in severe\ntones, 'that you do not marry anybody who believes you to be a Prince.\nYou must never deceive anyone. The real Prince, whom the whole nation\nthinks you are, will have to succeed his father, for that is just and\nright. Go and seek him in some distant island, and I will send winds\nthat will swell your sails and bring you to him. Hasten to render this\nservice to your master, although it is against your own ambition, and\nprepare, like an honest man, to return to your natural state. If you do\nnot do this, you will become wicked and unhappy, and I will abandon you\nto all your former troubles.'\n\nRosimond took these wise counsels to heart. He gave out that he had\nundertaken a secret mission to a neighbouring state, and embarked on\nboard a vessel, the winds carrying him straight to the island where the\nFairy had told him he would find the real Prince. This unfortunate youth\nhad been taken captive by a savage people, who had kept him to guard\ntheir sheep. Rosimond, becoming invisible, went to seek him amongst the\npastures, where he kept his flock, and, covering him with his mantle, he\ndelivered him out of the hands of his cruel masters, and bore him back\nto the ship. Other winds sent by the Fairy swelled the sails, and\ntogether the two young men entered the King's presence.\n\nRosimond spoke first and said, 'You have believed me to be your son. I\nam not he, but I have brought him back to you.' The King, filled with\nastonishment, turned to his real son and asked, 'Was it not you, my son,\nwho conquered my enemies and won such a glorious peace? Or is it true\nthat you have been shipwrecked and taken captive, and that Rosimond has\nset you free?'\n\n'Yes, my father,' replied the Prince. 'It is he who sought me out in my\ncaptivity and set me free, and to him I owe the happiness of seeing you\nonce more. It was he, not I, who gained the victory.'\n\nThe King could hardly believe his ears; but Rosimond, turning the ring,\nappeared before him in the likeness of the Prince, and the King gazed\ndistractedly at the two youths who seemed both to be his son. Then he\noffered Rosimond immense rewards for his services, which were refused,\nand the only favour the young man would accept was that one of his posts\nat Court should be conferred on his brother Bramintho. For he feared for\nhimself the changes of fortune, the envy of mankind and his own\nweakness. His desire was to go back to his mother and his native\nvillage, and to spend his time in cultivating the land.\n\nOne day, when he was wandering through the woods, he met the Fairy, who\nshowed him the cavern where his father was imprisoned, and told him what\nwords he must use in order to set him free. He repeated them joyfully,\nfor he had always longed to bring the old man back and to make his last\ndays happy. Rosimond thus became the benefactor of all his family, and\nhad the pleasure of doing good to those who had wished to do him evil.\nAs for the Court, to whom he had rendered such services, all he asked\nwas the freedom to live far from its corruption; and, to crown all,\nfearing that if he kept the ring he might be tempted to use it in order\nto regain his lost place in the world, he made up his mind to restore it\nto the Fairy. For many days he sought her up and down the woods and at\nlast he found her. 'I want to give you back,' he said, holding out the\nring, 'a gift as dangerous as it is powerful, and which I fear to use\nwrongfully. I shall never feel safe till I have made it impossible for\nme to leave my solitude and to satisfy my passions.'\n\nWhile Rosimond was seeking to give back the ring to the Fairy,\nBramintho, who had failed to learn any lessons from experience, gave way\nto all his desires, and tried to persuade the Prince, lately become\nKing, to ill-treat Rosimond. But the Fairy, who knew all about\neverything, said to Rosimond, when he was imploring her to accept the\nring:\n\n'Your wicked brother is doing his best to poison the mind of the King\ntowards you, and to ruin you. He deserves to be punished, and he must\ndie; and in order that he may destroy himself, I shall give the ring to\nhim.'\n\nRosimond wept at these words, and then asked:\n\n'What do you mean by giving him the ring as a punishment? He will only\nuse it to persecute everyone, and to become master.'\n\n'The same things,' answered the Fairy, 'are often a healing medicine to\none person and a deadly poison to another. Prosperity is the source of\nall evil to a naturally wicked man. If you wish to punish a scoundrel,\nthe first thing to do is to give him power. You will see that with this\nrope he will soon hang himself.'\n\nHaving said this, she disappeared, and went straight to the Palace,\nwhere she showed herself to Bramintho under the disguise of an old woman\ncovered with rags. She at once addressed him in these words:\n\n'I have taken this ring from the hands of your brother, to whom I had\nlent it, and by its help he covered himself with glory. I now give it to\nyou, and be careful what you do with it.'\n\nBramintho replied with a laugh:\n\n'I shall certainly not imitate my brother, who was foolish enough to\nbring back the Prince instead of reigning in his place,' and he was as\ngood as his word. The only use he made of the ring was to find out\nfamily secrets and betray them, to commit murders and every sort of\nwickedness, and to gain wealth for himself unlawfully. All these\ncrimes, which could be traced to nobody, filled the people with\nastonishment. The King, seeing so many affairs, public and private,\nexposed, was at first as puzzled as anyone, till Bramintho's wonderful\nprosperity and amazing insolence made him suspect that the enchanted\nring had become his property. In order to find out the truth he bribed a\nstranger just arrived at Court, one of a nation with whom the King was\nalways at war, and arranged that he was to steal in the night to\nBramintho and to offer him untold honours and rewards if he would betray\nthe State secrets.\n\n[Illustration: THE ENCHANTED RING]\n\nBramintho promised everything, and accepted at once the first payment of\nhis crime, boasting that he had a ring which rendered him invisible, and\nthat by means of it he could penetrate into the most private places. But\nhis triumph was short. Next day he was seized by order of the King, and\nhis ring was taken from him. He was searched, and on him were found\npapers which proved his crimes; and, though Rosimond himself came back\nto the Court to entreat his pardon, it was refused. So Bramintho was put\nto death, and the ring had been even more fatal to him than it had been\nuseful in the hands of his brother.\n\nTo console Rosimond for the fate of Bramintho, the King gave him back\nthe enchanted ring, as a pearl without price. The unhappy Rosimond did\nnot look upon it in the same light, and the first thing he did on his\nreturn home was to seek the Fairy in the woods.\n\n'Here,' he said, 'is your ring. My brother's experience has made me\nunderstand many things that I did not know before. Keep it, it has only\nled to his destruction. Ah! without it he would be alive now, and my\nfather and mother would not in their old age be bowed to the earth with\nshame and grief! Perhaps he might have been wise and happy if he had\nnever had the chance of gratifying his wishes! Oh! how dangerous it is\nto have more power than the rest of the world! Take back your ring, and\nas ill fortune seems to follow all on whom you bestow it, I will implore\nyou, as a favour to myself, that you will never give it to anyone who is\ndear to me.'\n\n Fenelon.\n\n\n\n\n _THE SNUFF-BOX_\n\n\nAs often happens in this world, there was once a young man who spent all\nhis time in travelling. One day, as he was walking along, he picked up a\nsnuff-box. He opened it, and the snuff-box said to him in the Spanish\nlanguage, 'What do you want?' He was very much frightened, but, luckily,\ninstead of throwing the box away, he only shut it tight, and put it in\nhis pocket. Then he went on, away, away, away, and as he went he said to\nhimself, 'If it says to me again \"What do you want?\" I shall know better\nwhat to say this time.' So he took out the snuff-box and opened it, and\nagain it asked 'What do you want?' 'My hat full of gold,' answered the\nyouth, and immediately it was full.\n\nOur young man was enchanted. Henceforth he should never be in need of\nanything. So on he travelled, away, away, away, through thick forests,\ntill at last he came to a beautiful castle. In the castle there lived a\nKing. The young man walked round and round the castle, not caring who\nsaw him, till the King noticed him, and asked what he was doing there.\n'I was just looking at your castle.' 'You would like to have one like\nit, wouldn't you?' The young man did not reply, but when it grew dark he\ntook his snuff-box and opened the lid. 'What do you want?' 'Build me a\ncastle with laths of gold and tiles of diamond, and the furniture all of\nsilver and gold.' He had scarcely finished speaking when there stood in\nfront of him, exactly opposite the King's palace, a castle built\nprecisely as he had ordered. When the King awoke he was struck dumb at\nthe sight of the magnificent house shining in the rays of the sun. The\nservants could not do their work for stopping to stare at it. Then the\nKing dressed himself, and went to see the young man. And he told him\nplainly that he was a very powerful Prince; and that he hoped that they\nmight all live together in one house or the other, and that the King\nwould give him his daughter to wife. So it all turned out just as the\nKing wished. The young man married the Princess, and they lived happily\nin the palace of gold.\n\n[Illustration: ?QUE PESEA USTED?]\n\nBut the King's wife was jealous both of the young man and of her own\ndaughter The Princess had told her mother about the snuff-box, which\ngave them everything they wanted, and the Queen bribed a servant to\nsteal the snuff-box. They noticed carefully where it was put away every\nnight, and one evening, when the whole world was asleep, the woman stole\nit and brought it to her old mistress. Oh how happy the Queen was! She\nopened the lid, and the snuff-box said to her 'What do you want?' And\nshe answered at once 'I want you to take me and my husband and my\nservants and this beautiful house and set us down on the other side of\nthe Red Sea, but my daughter and her husband are to stay behind.'\n\n[Illustration]\n\nWhen the young couple woke up, they found themselves back in the old\ncastle, without their snuff-box. They hunted for it high and low, but\nquite vainly. The young man felt that no time was to be lost, and he\nmounted his horse and filled his pockets with as much gold as he could\ncarry. On he went, away, away, away, but he sought the snuff-box in vain\nall up and down the neighbouring countries, and very soon he came to the\nend of all his money. But still he went on, as fast as the strength of\nhis horse would let him, begging his way.\n\nSomeone told him that he ought to consult the moon, for the moon\ntravelled far, and might be able to tell him something. So he went away,\naway, away, and ended, somehow or other, by reaching the land of the\nmoon. There he found a little old woman who said to him 'What are you\ndoing here? My son eats all living things he sees, and if you are wise,\nyou will go away without coming any further.' But the young man told her\nall his sad tale, and how he possessed a wonderful snuff-box, and how it\nhad been stolen from him, and how he had nothing left, now that he was\nparted from his wife and was in need of everything. And he said that\nperhaps her son, who travelled so far, might have seen a palace with\nlaths of gold and tiles of diamond, and furnished all in silver and\ngold. As he spoke these last words, the moon came in and said he smelt\nmortal flesh and blood. But his mother told him that it was an unhappy\nman who had lost everything, and had come all this way to consult him,\nand bade the young man not to be afraid, but to come forward and show\nhimself. So he went boldly up to the moon, and asked if by any accident\nhe had seen a palace with the laths of gold and the tiles of diamond,\nand all the furniture of silver and gold. Once this house belonged to\nhim, but now it was stolen. And the moon said no, but that the sun\ntravelled farther than he did, and that the young man had better go and\nask him.\n\nSo the young man departed, and went away, away, away, as well as his\nhorse would take him, begging his living as he rode along, and, somehow\nor other, at last he got to the land of the sun. There he found a little\nold woman, who asked him, 'What are you doing here? Go away. Have you\nnot heard that my son feeds upon Christians?' But he said no, and that\nhe would not go, for he was so miserable that it was all one to him\nwhether he died or not; that he had lost everything, and especially a\nsplendid palace like none other in the whole world, for it had laths of\ngold and tiles of diamond, and all the furniture was of silver and gold.\nAnd that he had sought it far and long, and in all the earth there was\nno man more unhappy. So the old woman's heart melted, and she agreed to\nhide him.\n\nWhen the Sun arrived, he declared that he smelt Christian flesh, and he\nmeant to have it for his dinner. But his mother told him such a pitiful\nstory of the miserable wretch who had lost everything, and had come from\nfar to ask his help, that at last he promised to see him.\n\nSo the young man came out from his hiding-place and begged the sun to\ntell him if in the course of his travels he had not seen somewhere a\npalace that had not its like in the whole world, for its laths were of\ngold and its tiles of diamond, and all the furniture in silver and gold.\n\nAnd the sun said no, but that perhaps the wind had seen it, for he\nentered everywhere, and saw things that no one else ever saw, and if\nanyone knew where it was, it was certainly the wind.\n\nThen the poor young man again set forth as well as his horse could take\nhim, begging his living as he went, and, somehow or other, he ended by\nreaching the home of the wind. He found there a little old woman busily\noccupied in filling great barrels with water. She asked him what had put\nit into his head to come there, for her son ate everything he saw, and\nthat he would shortly arrive quite mad, and that the young man had\nbetter look out. But he answered that he was so unhappy that he had\nceased to mind anything, even being eaten, and then he told her that he\nhad been robbed of a palace that had not its equal in all the world, and\nof all that was in it, and that he had even left his wife, and was\nwandering over the world until he found it. And that it was the sun who\nhad sent him to consult the wind. So she hid him under the staircase,\nand soon they heard the south wind arrive, shaking the house to its\nfoundations. Thirsty as he was, he did not wait to drink, but he told\nhis mother that he smelt the blood of a Christian man, and that she had\nbetter bring him out at once and make him ready to be eaten. But she\nbade her son eat and drink what was before him, and said that the poor\nyoung man was much to be pitied, and that the sun had granted him his\nlife in order that he might consult the wind. Then she brought out the\nyoung man, who explained how he was seeking for his palace, and that no\nman had been able to tell him where it was, so he had come to the wind.\nAnd he added that he had been shamefully robbed, and that the laths were\nof gold and the tiles of diamond, and all the furniture in silver and\ngold, and he inquired if the wind had not seen such a palace during his\nwanderings.\n\nAnd the wind said yes, and that all that day he had been blowing\nbackwards and forwards over it without being able to move one single\ntile. 'Oh, do tell me where it is,' cried the young man. 'It is a long\nway off,' replied the wind, 'on the other side of the Red Sea.' But our\ntraveller was not discouraged, he had already journeyed too far.\n\nSo he set forth at once, and, somehow or other, he managed to reach that\ndistant land. And he enquired if anyone wanted a gardener. He was told\nthat the head gardener at the castle had just left, and perhaps he might\nhave a chance of getting the place. The young man lost no time, but\nwalked up to the castle and asked if they were in want of a gardener;\nand how happy he was when they agreed to take him! Now he passed most of\nhis day in gossiping with the servants about the wealth of their masters\nand the wonderful things in the house. He made friends with one of the\nmaids, who told him the history of the snuff-box, and he coaxed her to\nlet him see it. One evening she managed to get hold of it, and the young\nman watched carefully where she hid it away, in a secret place in the\nbed-chamber of her mistress.\n\nThe following night, when everyone was fast asleep, he crept in and took\nthe snuff-box. Think of his joy as he opened the lid! When it asked him,\nas of yore, 'What do you want?' he replied: 'What do I want? What do I\nwant? Why, I want to go with my palace to the old place, and for the\nKing and the Queen and all their servants to be drowned in the Red Sea.'\nHe hardly finished speaking when he found himself back again with his\nwife, while all the other inhabitants of the palace were lying at the\nbottom of the Red Sea.\n\n Sebillot.\n\n\n\n\n _THE GOLDEN BLACKBIRD_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a great lord who had three sons.\n\nHe fell very ill, sent for doctors of every kind, even bone-setters, but\nthey, none of them, could find out what was the matter with him, or even\ngive him any relief. At last there came a foreign doctor, who declared\nthat the Golden Blackbird alone could cure the sick man.\n\nSo the old lord despatched his eldest son to look for the wonderful\nbird, and promised him great riches if he managed to find it and bring\nit back.\n\nThe young man began his journey, and soon arrived at a place where four\nroads met. He did not know which to choose, and tossed his cap in the\nair, determining that the direction of its fall should decide him. After\ntravelling for two or three days, he grew tired of walking without\nknowing where or for how long, and he stopped at an inn which was filled\nwith merrymakers and ordered something to eat and drink.\n\n'My faith,' said he, 'it is sheer folly to waste more time hunting for\nthis bird. My father is old, and if he dies I shall inherit his goods.'\n\nThe old man, after waiting patiently for some time, sent his second son\nto seek the Golden Blackbird. The youth took the same direction as his\nbrother, and when he came to the cross roads, he too tossed up which\nroad he should take. The cap fell in the same place as before, and he\nwalked on till he came to the spot where his brother had halted. The\nlatter, who was leaning out of the window of the inn, called to him to\nstay where he was and amuse himself.\n\n'You are right,' replied the youth. 'Who knows if I should ever find the\nGolden Blackbird, even if I sought the whole world through for it. At\nthe worst, if the old man dies, we shall have his property.'\n\nHe entered the inn and the two brothers made merry and feasted, till\nvery soon their money was all spent. They even owed something to their\nlandlord, who kept them as hostages till they could pay their debts.\n\nThe youngest son set forth in his turn, and he arrived at the place\nwhere his brothers were still prisoners. They called to him to stop, and\ndid all they could to prevent his going further.\n\n'No,' he replied, 'my father trusted me, and I will go all over the\nworld till I find the Golden Blackbird.'\n\n'Bah,' said his brothers, 'you will never succeed any better than we\ndid. Let him die if he wants to; we will divide the property.'\n\nAs he went his way he met a little hare, who stopped to look at him, and\nasked:\n\n'Where are you going, my friend?'\n\n'I really don't quite know,' answered he. 'My father is ill, and he\ncannot be cured unless I bring him back the Golden Blackbird. It is a\nlong time since I set out, but no one can tell me where to find it.'\n\n'Ah,' said the hare, 'you have a long way to go yet. You will have to\nwalk at least seven hundred miles before you get to it.'\n\n'And how am I to travel such a distance?'\n\n'Mount on my back,' said the little hare, 'and I will conduct you.'\n\nThe young man obeyed: at each bound the little hare went seven miles,\nand it was not long before they reached a castle that was as large and\nbeautiful as a castle could be.\n\n'The Golden Blackbird is in a little cabin near by,' said the little\nhare, 'and you will easily find it. It lives in a little cage, with\nanother cage beside it made all of gold. But whatever you do, be sure\nnot to put it in the beautiful cage, or everybody in the castle will\nknow that you have stolen it.'\n\nThe youth found the Golden Blackbird standing on a wooden perch, but as\nstiff and rigid as if he was dead. And beside the beautiful cage was the\ncage of gold.\n\n'Perhaps he would revive if I were to put him in that lovely cage,'\nthought the youth.\n\nThe moment that Golden Bird had touched the bars of the splendid cage he\nawoke, and began to whistle, so that all the servants of the castle ran\nto see what was the matter, saying that he was a thief and must be put\nin prison.\n\n'No,' he answered, 'I am not a thief. If I have taken the Golden\nBlackbird, it is only that it may cure my father, who is ill, and I have\ntravelled more than seven hundred miles in order to find it.'\n\n'Well,' they replied, 'we will let you go, and will even give you the\nGolden Bird, if you are able to bring us the Porcelain Maiden.'\n\nThe youth departed, weeping, and met the little hare, who was munching\nwild thyme.\n\n'What are you crying for, my friend?' asked the hare.\n\n'It is because,' he answered, 'the castle people will not allow me to\ncarry off the Golden Blackbird without giving them the Porcelain Maiden\nin exchange.'\n\n'You have not followed my advice,' said the little hare. 'And you have\nput the Golden Bird into the fine cage.'\n\n'Alas! yes!'\n\n'Don't despair! the Porcelain Maiden is a young girl, beautiful as\nVenus, who dwells two hundred miles from here. Jump on my back and I\nwill take you there.'\n\nThe little hare, who took seven miles in a stride, was there in no time\nat all, and he stopped on the borders of a lake.\n\n'The Porcelain Maiden,' said the hare to the youth, 'will come here to\nbathe with her friends, while I just eat a mouthful of thyme to refresh\nme. When she is in the lake, be sure you hide her clothes, which are of\ndazzling whiteness, and do not give them back to her unless she consents\nto follow you.'\n\nThe little hare left him, and almost immediately the Porcelain Maiden\narrived with her friends. She undressed herself and got into the water.\nThen the young man glided up noiselessly and laid hold of her clothes,\nwhich he hid under a rock at some distance.\n\nWhen the Porcelain Maiden was tired of playing in the water she came out\nto dress herself, but, though she hunted for her clothes high and low,\nshe could find them nowhere. Her friends helped her in the search, but,\nseeing at last that it was of no use, they left her, alone on the bank,\nweeping bitterly.\n\n'Why do you cry?' said the young man, approaching her.\n\n'Alas!' answered she, 'while I was bathing someone stole my clothes, and\nmy friends have abandoned me.'\n\n'I will find your clothes if you will only come with me.'\n\nAnd the Porcelain Maiden agreed to follow him, and after having given up\nher clothes, the young man bought a small horse for her, which went like\nthe wind. The little hare brought them both back to seek for the Golden\nBlackbird, and when they drew near to the castle where it lived the\nlittle hare said to the young man:\n\n[Illustration]\n\n'Now, do be a little sharper than you were before, and you will manage\nto carry off both the Golden Blackbird and the Porcelain Maiden. Take\nthe golden cage in one hand, and leave the bird in the old cage where he\nis, and bring that away too.'\n\nThe little hare then vanished; the youth did as he was bid, and the\ncastle servants never noticed that he was carrying off the Golden Bird.\nWhen he reached the inn where his brothers were detained, he delivered\nthem by paying their debt. They set out all together, but as the two\nelder brothers were jealous of the success of the youngest, they took\nthe opportunity as they were passing by the shores of a lake to throw\nthemselves upon him, seize the Golden Bird, and fling him in the water.\nThen they continued their journey, taking with them the Porcelain\nMaiden, in the firm belief that their brother was drowned. But, happily,\nhe had snatched in falling at a tuft of rushes and called loudly for\nhelp. The little hare came running to him, and said 'Take hold of my\nleg and pull yourself out of the water.'\n\nWhen he was safe on shore the little hare said to him:\n\n'Now this is what you have to do: dress yourself like a Breton seeking a\nplace as stable-boy, and go and offer your services to your father. Once\nthere, you will easily be able to make him understand the truth.'\n\nThe young man did as the little hare bade him, and he went to his\nfather's castle and enquired if they were not in want of a stable-boy.\n\n'Yes,' replied his father, 'very much indeed. But it is not an easy\nplace. There is a little horse in the stable which will not let anyone\ngo near it, and it has already kicked to death several people who have\ntried to groom it.'\n\n'I will undertake to groom it,' said the youth. 'I never saw the horse I\nwas afraid of yet.' The little horse allowed itself to be rubbed down\nwithout a toss of its head and without a kick.\n\n'Good gracious!' exclaimed the master; 'how is it that he lets you touch\nhim, when no one else can go near him?'\n\n'Perhaps he knows me,' answered the stable-boy.\n\nTwo or three days later the master said to him: 'The Porcelain Maiden is\nhere: but, though she is as lovely as the dawn, she is so wicked that\nshe scratches everyone that approaches her. Try if she will accept your\nservices.'\n\nWhen the youth entered the room where she was, the Golden Blackbird\nbroke forth into a joyful song, and the Porcelain Maiden sang too, and\njumped for joy.\n\n'Good gracious!' cried the master. 'The Porcelain Maiden and the Golden\nBlackbird know you too?'\n\n'Yes,' replied the youth, 'and the Porcelain Maiden can tell you the\nwhole truth, if she only will.'\n\nThen she told all that had happened, and how she had consented to follow\nthe young man who had captured the Golden Blackbird.\n\n'Yes,' added the youth, 'I delivered my brothers, who were kept\nprisoners in an inn, and, as a reward, they threw me into a lake. So I\ndisguised myself and came here, in order to prove the truth to you.'\n\nSo the old lord embraced his son, and promised that he should inherit\nall his possessions, and he put to death the two elder ones, who had\ndeceived him and had tried to slay their own brother.\n\nThe young man married the Porcelain Maiden, and had a splendid\nwedding-feast.\n\n Sebillot.\n\n\n\n\n _THE LITTLE SOLDIER_\n\n\n I\n\nOnce upon a time there was a little soldier who had just come back from\nthe war. He was a brave little fellow, but he had lost neither arms nor\nlegs in battle. Still, the fighting was ended and the army disbanded, so\nhe had to return to the village where he was born.\n\nNow the soldier's name was really John, but for some reason or other his\nfriends always called him the Kinglet; why, no one ever knew, but so it\nwas.\n\nAs he had no father or mother to welcome him home, he did not hurry\nhimself, but went quietly along, his knapsack on his back and his sword\nby his side, when suddenly one evening he was seized with a wish to\nlight his pipe. He felt for his match-box to strike a light, but to his\ngreat disgust he found he had lost it.\n\nHe had only gone about a stone's throw after making this discovery when\nhe noticed a light shining through the trees. He went towards it, and\nperceived before him an old castle, with the door standing open.\n\nThe little soldier entered the courtyard, and, peeping through a window,\nsaw a large fire blazing at the end of a low hall. He put his pipe in\nhis pocket and knocked gently, saying politely:\n\n'Would you give me a light?'\n\nBut he got no answer.\n\nAfter waiting for a moment John knocked again, this time more loudly.\nThere was still no reply.\n\nHe raised the latch and entered; the hall was empty.\n\nThe little soldier made straight for the fireplace, seized the tongs,\nand was stooping down to look for a nice red hot coal with which to\nlight his pipe, when clic! something went, like a spring giving way, and\nin the very midst of the flames an enormous serpent reared itself up\nclose to his face.\n\nAnd what was more strange still, this serpent had the head of a woman.\n\nAt such an unexpected sight many men would have turned and run for their\nlives; but the little soldier, though he _was_ so small, had a true\nsoldier's heart. He only made one step backwards, and grasped the hilt\nof his sword.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n'Don't unsheath it,' said the serpent. 'I have been waiting for you, as\nit is you who must deliver me.'\n\n'Who are you?'\n\n'My name is Ludovine, and I am the daughter of the King of the Low\nCountries. Deliver me, and I will marry you and make you happy for ever\nafter.'\n\nNow, some people might not have liked the notion of being made happy by\na serpent with the head of a woman, but the Kinglet had no such fears.\nAnd, besides, he felt the fascination of Ludovine's eyes, which looked\nat him as a snake looks at a little bird. They were beautiful green\neyes, not round like those of a cat, but long and almond-shaped, and\nthey shone with a strange light, and the golden hair which floated round\nthem seemed all the brighter for their lustre. The face had the beauty\nof an angel, though the body was only that of a serpent.\n\n'What must I do?' asked the Kinglet.\n\n'Open that door. You will find yourself in a gallery with a room at the\nend just like this. Cross that, and you will see a closet, out of which\nyou must take a tunic, and bring it back to me.'\n\nThe little soldier boldly prepared to do as he was told. He crossed the\ngallery in safety, but when he reached the room he saw by the light of\nthe stars eight hands on a level with his face, which threatened to\nstrike him. And, turn his eyes which way he would, he could discover no\nbodies belonging to them.\n\nHe lowered his head and rushed forward amidst a storm of blows, which he\nreturned with his fists. When he got to the closet, he opened it, took\ndown the tunic, and brought it to the first room.\n\n'Here it is,' he panted, rather out of breath.\n\n'Clic!' once more the flames parted. Ludovine was a woman down to her\nwaist. She took the tunic and put it on.\n\nIt was a magnificent tunic of orange velvet, embroidered in pearls, but\nthe pearls were not so white as her own neck.\n\n'That is not all,' she said. 'Go to the gallery, take the staircase\nwhich is on the left, and in the second room on the first story you will\nfind another closet with my skirt. Bring this to me.'\n\nThe Kinglet did as he was told, but in entering the room he saw, instead\nof merely hands, eight arms, each holding an enormous stick. He\ninstantly unsheathed his sword and cut his way through with such vigour\nthat he hardly received a scratch.\n\nHe brought back the skirt, which was made of silk as blue as the skies\nof Spain.\n\n'Here it is,' said John, as the serpent appeared. She was now a woman as\nfar as her knees.\n\n'I only want my shoes and stockings now,' she said. 'Go and get them\nfrom the closet which is on the second story.'\n\nThe little soldier departed, and found himself in the presence of eight\ngoblins armed with hammers, and flames darting from their eyes. This\ntime he stopped short at the threshold. 'My sword is no use,' he thought\nto himself; 'these wretches will break it like glass, and if I can't\nthink of anything else, I am a dead man.' At this moment his eyes fell\non the door, which was made of oak, thick and heavy. He wrenched it off\nits hinges and held it over his head, and then went straight at the\ngoblins, whom he crushed beneath it. After that he took the shoes and\nstockings out of the closet and brought them to Ludovine, who, directly\nshe had put them on, became a woman all over.\n\nWhen she was quite dressed in her white silk stockings and little blue\nslippers dotted over with carbuncles, she said to her deliverer, 'Now\nyou must go away, and never come back here, whatever happens. Here is a\npurse with two hundred ducats. Sleep to-night at the inn which is at the\nedge of the wood, and awake early in the morning: for at nine o'clock I\nshall pass the door, and shall take you up in my carriage.' 'Why\nshouldn't we go now?' asked the little soldier. 'Because the time has\nnot yet come,' said the Princess. 'But first you may drink my health in\nthis glass of wine,' and as she spoke she filled a crystal goblet with a\nliquid that looked like melted gold.\n\nJohn drank, then lit his pipe and went out.\n\n\n II\n\nWhen he arrived at the inn he ordered supper, but no sooner had he sat\ndown to eat it than he felt that he was going sound asleep.\n\n'I must be more tired than I thought,' he said to himself, and, after\ntelling them to be sure to wake him next morning at eight o'clock, he\nwent to bed.\n\nAll night long he slept like a dead man. At eight o'clock they came to\nwake him, and at half-past, and a quarter of an hour later, but it was\nno use; and at last they decided to leave him in peace.\n\nThe clocks were striking twelve when John awoke. He sprang out of bed,\nand, scarcely waiting to dress himself, hastened to ask if anyone had\nbeen to inquire for him.\n\n'There came a lovely princess,' replied the landlady, 'in a coach of\ngold. She left you this bouquet, and a message to say that she would\npass this way to-morrow morning at eight o'clock.'\n\nThe little soldier cursed his sleep, but tried to console himself by\nlooking at his bouquet, which was of _immortelles_.\n\n'It is the flower of remembrance,' thought he, forgetting that it is\nalso the flower of the dead.\n\nWhen the night came, he slept with one eye open, and jumped up twenty\ntimes an hour. When the birds began to sing he could lie still no\nlonger, and climbed out of his window into the branches of one of the\ngreat lime-trees that stood before the door. There he sat, dreamily\ngazing at his bouquet till he ended by going fast asleep.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nOnce asleep, nothing was able to wake him; neither the brightness of the\nsun, nor the songs of the birds, nor the noise of Ludovine's golden\ncoach, nor the cries of the landlady who sought him in every place she\ncould think of.\n\nAs the clock struck twelve he woke, and his heart sank as he came down\nout of his tree and saw them laying the table for dinner.\n\n'Did the Princess come?' he asked.\n\n'Yes, indeed, she did. She left this flower-coloured scarf for you; said\nshe would pass by to-morrow at seven o'clock, but it would be the last\ntime.'\n\n'I must have been bewitched,' thought the little soldier. Then he took\nthe scarf, which had a strange kind of scent, and tied it round his left\narm, thinking all the while that the best way to keep awake was not to\ngo to bed at all. So he paid his bill, and bought a horse with the money\nthat remained, and when the evening came he mounted his horse and stood\nin front of the inn door, determined to stay there all night.\n\nEvery now and then he stooped to smell the sweet perfume of the scarf\nround his arm; and gradually he smelt it so often that at last his head\nsank on to the horse's neck, and he and his horse snored in company.\n\nWhen the Princess arrived, they shook him, and beat him, and screamed at\nhim, but it was all no good. Neither man nor horse woke till the coach\nwas seen vanishing away in the distance.\n\nThen John put spurs to his horse, calling with all his might 'Stop!\nstop!' But the coach drove on as before, and though the little soldier\nrode after it for a day and a night, he never got one step nearer.\n\nThus they left many villages and towns behind them, till they came to\nthe sea itself. Here John thought that at last the coach must stop, but,\nwonder of wonders! it went straight on, and rolled over the water as\neasily as it had done over the land. John's horse, which had carried him\nso well, sank down from fatigue, and the little soldier sat sadly on the\nshore, watching the coach which was fast disappearing on the horizon.\n\n\n III\n\nHowever, he soon plucked up his spirits again, and walked along the\nbeach to try and find a boat in which he could sail after the Princess.\nBut no boat was there, and at last, tired and hungry, he sat down to\nrest on the steps of a fisherman's hut.\n\nIn the hut was a young girl who was mending a net. She invited John to\ncome in, and set before him some wine and fried fish, and John ate and\ndrank and felt comforted, and he told his adventures to the little\nfisher-girl. But though she was very pretty, with a skin as white as a\ngull's breast, for which her neighbours gave her the name of the\nSeagull, he did not think about her at all, for he was dreaming of the\ngreen eyes of the Princess.\n\nWhen he had finished his tale, she was filled with pity and said:\n\n'Last week, when I was fishing, my net suddenly grew very heavy, and\nwhen I drew it in I found a great copper vase, fastened with lead. I\nbrought it home and placed it on the fire. When the lead had melted a\nlittle, I opened the vase with my knife and drew out a mantle of red\ncloth and a purse containing fifty crowns. That is the mantle, covering\nmy bed, and I have kept the money for my marriage-portion. But take it\nand go to the nearest seaport, where you will find a ship sailing for\nthe Low Countries, and when you become King you will bring me back my\nfifty crowns.'\n\nAnd the Kinglet answered: 'When I am King of the Low Countries, I will\nmake you lady-in-waiting to the Queen, for you are as good as you are\nbeautiful. So farewell,' said he, and as the Seagull went back to her\nfishing he rolled himself in the mantle and threw himself down on a heap\nof dried grass, thinking of the strange things that had befallen him,\ntill he suddenly exclaimed:\n\n'Oh, how I wish I was in the capital of the Low Countries!'\n\n\n IV\n\nIn one moment the little soldier found himself standing before a\nsplendid palace. He rubbed his eyes and pinched himself, and when he was\nquite sure he was not dreaming he said to a man who was smoking his pipe\nbefore the door, 'Where am I?'\n\n'Where are you? Can't you see? Before the King's palace, of course.'\n\n'What King?'\n\n'Why the King of the Low Countries!' replied the man, laughing and\nsupposing that he was mad.\n\nWas there ever anything so strange? But as John was an honest fellow, he\nwas troubled at the thought that the Seagull would think he had stolen\nher mantle and purse. And he began to wonder how he could restore them\nto her the soonest. Then he remembered that the mantle had some hidden\ncharm that enabled the bearer to transport himself at will from place to\nplace, and in order to make sure of this he wished himself in the best\ninn of the town. In an instant he was there.\n\nEnchanted with this discovery, he ordered supper, and as it was too late\nto visit the King that night he went to bed.\n\nThe next day, when he got up, he saw that all the houses were wreathed\nwith flowers and covered with flags, and all the church bells were\nringing. The little soldier inquired the meaning of all this noise, and\nwas told that the Princess Ludovine, the King's beautiful daughter, had\nbeen found, and was about to make her triumphal entry. 'That will just\nsuit me,' thought the Kinglet; 'I will stand at the door and see if she\nknows me.'\n\nHe had scarcely time to dress himself when the golden coach of Ludovine\nwent by. She had a crown of gold upon her head, and the King and Queen\nsat by her side. By accident her eyes fell upon the little soldier, and\nshe grew pale and turned away her head.\n\n'Didn't she know me?' the little soldier asked himself, 'or was she\nangry because I missed our meetings?' and he followed the crowd till he\ngot to the palace. When the royal party entered he told the guards that\nit was he who had delivered the Princess, and wished to speak to the\nKing. But the more he talked the more they believed him mad and refused\nto let him pass.\n\nThe little soldier was furious. He felt that he needed his pipe to calm\nhim, and he entered a tavern and ordered a pint of beer. 'It is this\nmiserable soldier's helmet,' said he to himself. 'If I had only money\nenough I could look as splendid as the lords of the Court; but what is\nthe good of thinking of that when I have only the remains of the\nSeagull's fifty crowns?'\n\nHe took out his purse to see what was left, and he found that there were\nstill fifty crowns.\n\n'The Seagull must have miscounted,' thought he, and he paid for his\nbeer. Then he counted his money again, and there were still fifty\ncrowns. He took away five and counted a third time, but there were still\nfifty. He emptied the purse altogether and then shut it; when he opened\nit the fifty crowns were still there!\n\nThen a plan came into his head, and he determined to go at once to the\nCourt tailor and coachbuilder.\n\nHe ordered the tailor to make him a mantle and vest of blue velvet\nembroidered with pearls, and the coachbuilder to make him a golden coach\nlike the coach of the Princess Ludovine. If the tailor and the\ncoachbuilder were quick he promised to pay them double.\n\nA few days later the little soldier was driven through the city in his\ncoach drawn by six white horses, and with four lacqueys richly dressed\nstanding behind. Inside sat John, clad in blue velvet, with a bouquet of\nimmortelles in his hand and a scarf bound round his arm. He drove twice\nround the city, throwing money to the right and left, and the third\ntime, as he passed under the palace windows, he saw Ludovine lift a\ncorner of the curtain and peep out.\n\n\n V\n\nThe next day no one talked of anything but the rich lord who had\ndistributed money as he drove along. The talk even reached the Court,\nand the Queen, who was very curious, had a great desire to see the\nwonderful Prince.\n\n'Very well,' said the King; 'let him be asked to come and play cards\nwith me.'\n\nThis time the Kinglet was not late for his appointment.\n\nThe King sent for the cards and they sat down to play. They had six\ngames, and John always lost. The stake was fifty crowns, and each time\nhe emptied his purse, which was full the next instant.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe sixth time the King exclaimed, 'It is amazing!'\n\nThe Queen cried, 'It is astonishing!'\n\nThe Princess said, 'It is bewildering!'\n\n'Not so bewildering,' replied the little soldier, 'as your change into a\nserpent.'\n\n'Hush!' interrupted the King, who did not like the subject.\n\n'I only spoke of it,' said John, 'because you see in me the man who\ndelivered the Princess from the goblins and whom she promised to\nmarry.'\n\n'Is that true?' asked the King of the Princess.\n\n'Quite true,' answered Ludovine. 'But I told my deliverer to be ready to\ngo with me when I passed by with my coach. I passed three times, but he\nslept so soundly that no one could wake him.'\n\n'What is your name?' said the King, 'and who are you?'\n\n'My name is John. I am a soldier, and my father is a boatman.'\n\n'You are not a fit husband for my daughter. Still, if you will give us\nyour purse, you shall have her for your wife.'\n\n'My purse does not belong to me, and I cannot give it away.'\n\n'But you can lend it to me till our wedding-day,' said the Princess with\none of those glances the little soldier never could resist.\n\n'And when will that be?'\n\n'At Easter,' said the monarch.\n\n'Or in a blue moon!' murmured the Princess; but the Kinglet did not hear\nher and let her take his purse.\n\nNext evening he presented himself at the palace to play picquet with the\nKing and to make his court to the Princess. But he was told that the\nKing had gone into the country to receive his rents. He returned the\nfollowing day, and had the same answer. Then he asked to see the Queen,\nbut she had a headache. When this had happened five or six times, he\nbegan to understand that they were making fun of him.\n\n'That is not the way for a King to behave,' thought John. 'Old\nscoundrel!' and then suddenly he remembered his red cloak.\n\n'Ah, what an idiot I am!' said he. 'Of course I can get in whenever I\nlike with the help of this.'\n\nThat evening he was in front of the palace, wrapped in his red cloak.\n\nOn the first story one window was lighted, and John saw on the curtains\nthe shadow of the Princess.\n\n'I wish myself in the room of the Princess Ludovine,' said he, and in a\nsecond he was there.\n\nThe King's daughter was sitting before a table counting the money that\nshe emptied from the inexhaustible purse.\n\n'Eight hundred and fifty, nine hundred, nine hundred and fifty----'\n\n'A thousand,' finished John. 'Good evening everybody!'\n\nThe Princess jumped and gave a little cry. '_You_ here! What business\nhave you to do it? Leave at once, or I shall call----'\n\n'I have come,' said the Kinglet, 'to remind you of your promise. The day\nafter to-morrow is Easter Day, and it is high time to think of our\nmarriage.'\n\nLudovine burst out into a fit of laughter. 'Our marriage! Have you\nreally been foolish enough to believe that the daughter of the King of\nthe Low Countries would ever marry the son of a boatman?'\n\n'Then give me back the purse,' said John.\n\n'Never,' said the Princess, and put it calmly in her pocket.\n\n'As you like,' said the little soldier. 'He laughs best who laughs the\nlast;' and he took the Princess in his arms. 'I wish,' he cried, 'that\nwe were at the ends of the earth;' and in one second he was there, still\nclasping the Princess tightly in his arms.\n\n'Ouf,' said John, laying her gently at the foot of a tree. 'I never took\nsuch a long journey before. What do you say, madam?' The Princess\nunderstood that it was no time for jesting, and did not answer. Besides\nshe was still feeling giddy from her rapid flight, and had not yet\ncollected her senses.\n\n\n VI\n\nThe King of the Low Countries was not a very scrupulous person, and his\ndaughter took after him. This was why she had been changed into a\nserpent. It had been prophesied that she should be delivered by a little\nsoldier, and that she must marry him, unless he failed to appear at the\nmeeting-place three times running. The cunning Princess then laid her\nplans accordingly.\n\nThe wine that she had given to John in the castle of the goblins, the\nbouquet of immortelles, and the scarf, all had the power of producing\nsleep like death. And we know how they had acted on John.\n\nHowever, even in this critical moment, Ludovine did not lose her head.\n\n'I thought you were simply a street vagabond,' said she, in her most\ncoaxing voice; 'and I find you are more powerful than any king. Here is\nyour purse. Have you got my scarf and my bouquet?'\n\n'Here they are,' said the Kinglet, delighted with this change of tone,\nand he drew them from his bosom. Ludovine fastened one in his\nbutton-hole and the other round his arm. 'Now,' she said, 'you are my\nlord and master, and I will marry you at your good pleasure.'\n\n'You are kinder than I thought,' said John; 'and you shall never be\nunhappy, for I love you.'\n\n'Then, my little husband, tell me how you managed to carry me so quickly\nto the ends of the world.'\n\nThe little soldier scratched his head. 'Does she really mean to marry\nme,' he thought to himself, 'or is she only trying to deceive me again?'\n\nBut Ludovine repeated, 'Won't you tell me?' in such a tender voice he\ndid not know how to resist her.\n\n'After all,' he said to himself, 'what does it matter telling her the\nsecret, as long as I don't give her the cloak.'\n\nAnd he told her the virtue of the red mantle.\n\n'Oh dear, how tired I am!' sighed Ludovine. 'Don't you think we had\nbetter take a nap? And then we can talk over our plans.'\n\nShe stretched herself on the grass, and the Kinglet did the same. He\nlaid his head on his left arm, round which the scarf was tied, and was\nsoon fast asleep.\n\nLudovine was watching him out of one eye, and no sooner did she hear him\nsnore than she unfastened the mantle, drew it gently from under him and\nwrapped it round her, took the purse from his pocket, and put it in\nhers, and said: 'I wish I was back in my own room.' In another moment\nshe was there.\n\n\n VII\n\nWho felt foolish but John, when he awoke, twenty-four hours after, and\nfound himself without purse, without mantle, and without Princess? He\ntore his hair, he beat his breast, he trampled on the bouquet, and tore\nthe scarf of the traitress to atoms.\n\nBesides this he was very hungry, and he had nothing to eat.\n\nHe thought of all the wonderful things his grandmother had told him when\nhe was a child, but none of them helped him now. He was in despair, when\nsuddenly he looked up and saw that the tree under which he had been\nsleeping was a superb plum, covered with fruit as yellow as gold.\n\n'Here goes for the plums,' he said to himself, 'all is fair in war.'\n\nHe climbed the tree and began to eat steadily. But he had hardly\nswallowed two plums when, to his horror, he felt as if something was\ngrowing on his forehead. He put up his hand and found that he had two\nhorns!\n\nHe leapt down from the tree and rushed to a stream that flowed close\nby. Alas! there was no escape: two charming little horns, that would not\nhave disgraced the head of a goat.\n\nThen his courage failed him.\n\n'As if it was not enough,' said he, 'that a woman should trick me, but\nthe devil must mix himself up in it and lend me his horns. What a pretty\nfigure I should cut if I went back into the world!'\n\nBut as he was still hungry, and the mischief was done, he climbed boldly\nup another tree, and plucked two plums of a lovely green colour. No\nsooner had he swallowed two than the horns disappeared. The little\nsoldier was enchanted, though greatly surprised, and came to the\nconclusion that it was no good to despair too quickly. When he had done\neating an idea suddenly occurred to him.\n\n'Perhaps,' thought he, 'these pretty little plums may help me to recover\nmy purse, my cloak, and my heart from the hands of this wicked Princess.\nShe has the eyes of a deer already; let her have the horns of one. If I\ncan manage to set her up with a pair, I will bet any money that I shall\ncease to want her for my wife. A horned maiden is by no means lovely to\nlook at.' So he plaited a basket out of the long willows, and placed in\nit carefully both sorts of plums. Then he walked bravely on for many\ndays, having no food but the berries by the wayside, and was in great\ndanger from wild beasts and savage men. But he feared nothing, except\nthat his plums should decay, and this never happened.\n\nAt last he came to a civilised country, and with the sale of some jewels\nthat he had about him on the evening of his flight he took passage on\nboard a vessel for the Low Countries. So, at the end of a year and a\nday, he arrived at the capital of the kingdom.\n\n\n VIII\n\nThe next day he put on a false beard and the dress of a date merchant,\nand, taking a little table, he placed himself before the door of the\nchurch.\n\nHe spread carefully out on a fine white cloth his Mirabelle plums, which\nlooked for all the world as if they had been freshly gathered, and when\nhe saw the Princess coming out of church he began to call out in a\nfeigned voice: 'Fine plums! lovely plums!'\n\n'How much are they?' said the Princess.\n\n'Fifty crowns each.'\n\n'Fifty crowns! But what is there so very precious about them? Do they\ngive one wit, or will they increase one's beauty?'\n\n'They could not increase what is perfect already, fair Princess, but\nstill they might add something.'\n\nRolling stones gather no moss, but they sometimes gain polish; and the\nmonths which John had spent in roaming about the world had not been\nwasted. Such a neatly turned compliment flattered Ludovine.\n\n'What will they add?' she smilingly asked.\n\n'You will see, fair Princess, when you taste them. It will be a surprise\nfor you.'\n\nLudovine's curiosity was roused. She drew out the purse and shook out as\nmany little heaps of fifty crowns as there were plums in the basket. The\nlittle soldier was seized with a wild desire to snatch the purse from\nher and proclaim her a thief, but he managed to control himself.\n\nHis plums all sold, he shut up shop, took off his disguise, changed his\ninn, and kept quiet, waiting to see what would happen.\n\nNo sooner had she reached her room than the Princess exclaimed, 'Now let\nus see what these fine plums can add to my beauty,' and throwing off her\nhood, she picked up a couple and ate them.\n\nImagine with what surprise and horror she felt all of a sudden that\nsomething was growing out of her forehead. She flew to her mirror and\nuttered a piercing cry.\n\n'Horns! so that was what he promised me! Let someone find the\nplum-seller at once and bring him to me! Let his nose and ears be cut\noff! Let him be flayed alive, or burnt at a slow fire and his ashes\nscattered to the winds! Oh, I shall die of shame and despair!'\n\nHer women ran at the sound of her screams, and tried to wrench off the\nhorns, but it was of no use, and they only gave her a violent headache.\n\nThe King then sent round a herald to proclaim that he would give the\nhand of the Princess to anyone who would rid her of her strange\nornaments. So all the doctors and sorcerers and surgeons in the Low\nCountries and the neighbouring kingdoms thronged to the palace, each\nwith a remedy of his own. But it was all no good, and the Princess\nsuffered so much from their remedies that the King was obliged to send\nout a second proclamation that anyone who undertook to cure the\nPrincess, and who failed to do it, should be hanged up to the nearest\ntree.\n\n[Illustration: THE PRINCESS DRINKS THE PHIAL TO TAKE AWAY THE HORNS]\n\nBut the prize was too great for any proclamation to put a stop to the\nefforts of the crowd of suitors, and that year the orchards of the Low\nCountries all bore a harvest of dead men.\n\n\n IX\n\nThe King had given orders that they should seek high and low for the\nplum-seller, but in spite of all their pains, he was nowhere to be\nfound.\n\nWhen the little soldier discovered that their patience was worn out, he\npressed the juice of the green Queen Claude plums into a small phial,\nbought a doctor's robe, put on a wig and spectacles, and presented\nhimself before the King of the Low Countries. He gave himself out as a\nfamous physician who had come from distant lands, and he promised that\nhe would cure the Princess if only he might be left alone with her.\n\n'Another madman determined to be hanged,' said the King. 'Very well, do\nas he asks; one should refuse nothing to a man with a rope round his\nneck.'\n\nAs soon as the little soldier was in the presence of the Princess he\npoured some drops of the liquid into a glass. The Princess had scarcely\ntasted it, when the tip of the horns disappeared.\n\n'They would have disappeared completely,' said the pretended doctor, 'if\nthere did not exist something to counteract the effect. It is only\npossible to cure people whose souls are as clean as the palm of my hand.\nAre you sure you have not committed some little sin? Examine yourself\nwell.'\n\nLudovine had no need to think over it long, but she was torn in pieces\nbetween the shame of a humiliating confession, and the desire to be\nunhorned. At last she made answer with downcast eyes,\n\n'I have stolen a leather purse from a little soldier.'\n\n'Give it to me. The remedy will not act till I hold the purse in my\nhands.'\n\nIt cost Ludovine a great pang to give up the purse, but she remembered\nthat riches would not benefit her if she was still to keep the horns.\n\nWith a sigh, she handed the purse to the doctor, who poured more of the\nliquid into the glass, and when the Princess had drunk it, she found\nthat the horns had diminished by one half.\n\n'You must really have another little sin on your conscience. Did you\nsteal nothing from this soldier but his purse?'\n\n'I also stole from him his cloak.'\n\n'Give it me.'\n\n'Here it is.'\n\nThis time Ludovine thought to herself that when once the horns had\ndeparted, she would call her attendants and take the things from the\ndoctor by force.\n\nShe was greatly pleased with this idea, when suddenly the pretended\nphysician wrapped himself in the cloak, flung away the wig and\nspectacles, and showed to the traitress the face of the Little Soldier.\n\nShe stood before him dumb with fright.\n\n'I might,' said John, 'have left you horned to the end of your days, but\nI am a good fellow and I once loved you, and besides--you are too like\nthe devil to have any need of his horns.'\n\n\n X\n\nJohn had wished himself in the house of the Seagull. Now the Seagull was\nseated at the window, mending her net, and from time to time her eyes\nwandered to the sea as if she was expecting someone. At the noise made\nby the little soldier, she looked up and blushed.\n\n'So it is you!' she said. 'How did you get here?' And then she added in\na low voice, 'And have you married your Princess?'\n\nThen John told her all his adventures, and when he had finished, he\nrestored to her the purse and the mantle.\n\n'What can I do with them?' said she. 'You have proved to me that\nhappiness does not lie in the possession of treasures.'\n\n'It lies in work and in the love of an honest women,' replied the little\nsoldier, who noticed for the first time what pretty eyes she had. 'Dear\nSeagull, will you have me for a husband?' and he held out his hand.\n\n'Yes, I will,' answered the fisher maiden, blushing very red, 'but only\non condition that we seal up the purse and the mantle in the copper\nvessel and throw them into the sea.'\n\nAnd this they did.\n\n Charles Deulin.\n\n\n\n\n _THE MAGIC SWAN_\n\n\nThere were once upon a time three brothers, of whom the eldest was\ncalled Jacob, the second Frederick, and the youngest Peter. This\nyoungest brother was made a regular butt of by the other two, and they\ntreated him shamefully. If anything went wrong with their affairs, Peter\nhad to bear the blame and put things right for them, and he had to\nendure all this ill-treatment because he was weak and delicate and\ncouldn't defend himself against his stronger brothers. The poor creature\nhad a most trying life of it in every way, and day and night he pondered\nhow he could make it better. One day, when he was in the wood gathering\nsticks and crying bitterly, a little old woman came up to him and asked\nhim what was the matter; and he told her all his troubles.\n\n'Come, my good youth,' said the old dame, when he had finished his tale\nof woe, 'isn't the world wide enough? Why don't you set out and try your\nfortune somewhere else?'\n\nPeter took her words to heart, and left his father's house early one\nmorning to try his fortune in the wide world, as the old woman had\nadvised him. But he felt very bitterly parting from the home where he\nhad been born, and where he had at least passed a short but happy\nchildhood, and sitting down on a hill he gazed once more fondly on his\nnative place.\n\nSuddenly the little old woman stood before him, and, tapping him on the\nshoulder, said, 'So far good, my boy; but what do you mean to do now?'\n\nPeter was at a loss what to answer, for so far he had always thought\nthat fortune would drop into his mouth like a ripe cherry. The old\nwoman, who guessed his thoughts, laughed kindly and said, 'I'll tell you\nwhat you must do, for I've taken a fancy to you, and I'm sure you won't\nforget me when you've made your fortune.'\n\nPeter promised faithfully he wouldn't, and the old woman continued:\n\n'This evening at sunset go to yonder pear-tree which you see growing at\nthe cross roads. Underneath it you will find a man lying asleep, and a\nbeautiful large swan will be fastened to the tree close to him. You must\nbe careful not to waken the man, but you must unfasten the swan and take\nit away with you. You will find that everyone will fall in love with its\nbeautiful plumage, and you must allow anyone who likes to pull out a\nfeather. But as soon as the swan feels as much as a finger on it, it\nwill scream out, and then you must say, \"Swan, hold fast.\" Then the hand\nof the person who has touched the bird will be held as in a vice, and\nnothing will set it free, unless you touch it with this little stick\nwhich I will make you a present of. When you have captured a whole lot\nof people in this way, lead your train straight on with you; you will\ncome to a big town where a Princess lives who has never been known to\nlaugh. If you can only make her laugh your fortune is made; then I beg\nyou won't forget your old friend.'\n\nPeter promised again that he wouldn't, and at sunset he went to the tree\nthe old woman had mentioned. The man lay there fast asleep, and a large\nbeautiful swan was fastened to the tree beside him by a red cord. Peter\nloosed the bird, and led it away with him without disturbing the bird's\nmaster.\n\nHe walked on with the swan for some time, and came at last to a\nbuilding-yard where some men were busily at work. They were all lost in\nadmiration of the bird's beautiful plumage, and one forward youth, who\nwas covered with clay from head to foot, called out, 'Oh, if I'd only\none of those feathers how happy I should be!'\n\n'Pull one out then,' said Peter kindly, and the youth seized one from\nthe bird's tail; instantly the swan screamed, and Peter called out,\n'Swan, hold fast,' and do what he could the poor youth couldn't get his\nhand away. The more he howled the more the others laughed, till a girl\nwho had been washing clothes in the neighbouring stream hurried up to\nsee what was the matter. When she saw the poor boy fastened to the swan\nshe felt so sorry for him that she stretched out her hand to free him.\nThe bird screamed.\n\n'Swan, hold fast,' called out Peter, and the girl was caught also.\n\nWhen Peter had gone on for a bit with his captives, they met a chimney\nsweep, who laughed loudly over the extraordinary troop, and asked the\ngirl what she was doing.\n\n'Oh, dearest John,' replied the girl, 'give me your hand and set me\nfree from this cursed young man.'\n\n'Most certainly I will, if that's all you want,' replied the sweep, and\ngave the girl his hand. The bird screamed.\n\n'Swan, hold fast,' said Peter, and the black man was added to their\nnumber.\n\nThey soon came to a village where a fair was being held. A travelling\ncircus was giving a performance, and the clown was just doing his\ntricks. He opened his eyes wide with amazement when he saw the\nremarkable trio fastened on to the swan's tail.\n\n'Have you gone raving mad, Blackie?' he asked as well as he could for\nlaughing.\n\n'It's no laughing matter,' the sweep replied. 'This wench has got so\ntight hold of me that I feel as if I were glued to her. Do set me free,\nlike a good clown, and I'll do you a good turn some day.'\n\nWithout a moment's hesitation the clown grasped the black outstretched\nhand. The bird screamed.\n\n'Swan, hold fast,' called out Peter, and the clown became the fourth of\nthe party.\n\nNow in the front row of the spectators sat the respected and popular\nMayor of the village, who was much put out by what he considered nothing\nbut a foolish trick. So much annoyed was he that he seized the clown by\nthe hand and tried to tear him away, in order to hand him over to the\npolice.\n\nThen the bird screamed, and Peter called out, 'Swan, hold fast,' and the\ndignified Mayor shared the fate of his predecessors.\n\nThe Mayoress, a long thin stick of a woman, enraged at the insult done\nto her husband, seized his free arm and tore at it with all her might,\nwith the only result that she too was forced to swell the procession.\nAfter this no one else had any wish to join them.\n\nSoon Peter saw the towers of the capital in front of him. Just before\nentering it, a glittering carriage came out to meet him, in which was\nseated a young lady as beautiful as the day, but with a very solemn and\nserious expression. But no sooner had she perceived the motley crowd\nfastened to the swan's tail than she burst into a loud fit of laughter,\nin which she was joined by all her servants and ladies in waiting.\n\n'The Princess has laughed at last,' they all cried with joy.\n\nShe stepped out of her carriage to look more closely at the wonderful\nsight, and laughed again over the capers the poor captives cut. She\nordered her carriage to be turned round and drove slowly back into the\ntown, never taking her eyes off Peter and his procession.\n\nWhen the King heard the news that his daughter had actually laughed, he\nwas more than delighted, and had Peter and his marvellous train brought\nbefore him. He laughed himself when he saw them till the tears rolled\ndown his cheeks.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n'My good friend,' he said to Peter, 'do you know what I promised the\nperson who succeeded in making the Princess laugh?'\n\n'No, I don't,' said Peter.\n\n'Then I'll tell you,' answered the King; 'a thousand gold crowns or a\npiece of land. Which will you choose?'\n\nPeter decided in favour of the land. Then he touched the youth, the\ngirl, the sweep, the clown, the Mayor, and the Mayoress with his little\nstick, and they were all free again, and ran away home as if a fire were\nburning behind them; and their flight, as you may imagine, gave rise to\nrenewed merriment.\n\nThen the Princess felt moved to stroke the swan, at the same time\nadmiring its plumage. The bird screamed.\n\n'Swan, hold fast,' called out Peter, and so he won the Princess for his\nbride. But the swan flew up into the air, and vanished in the blue\nhorizon. Peter now received a duchy as a present, and became a very\ngreat man indeed; but he did not forget the little old woman who had\nbeen the cause of all his good fortune, and appointed her as head\nhousekeeper to him and his royal bride in their magnificent castle.\n\n Kletke.\n\n\n\n\n _THE DIRTY SHEPHERDESS_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a King who had two daughters, and he loved\nthem with all his heart. When they grew up, he was suddenly seized with\na wish to know if they, on their part, truly loved him, and he made up\nhis mind that he would give his kingdom to whichever best proved her\ndevotion.\n\nSo he called the elder Princess and said to her, 'How much do you love\nme?'\n\n'As the apple of my eye!' answered she.\n\n'Ah!' exclaimed the King, kissing her tenderly as he spoke, 'you are\nindeed a good daughter.'\n\nThen he sent for the younger, and asked her how much she loved him.\n\n'I look upon you, my father,' she answered, 'as I look upon salt in my\nfood.'\n\nBut the King did not like her words, and ordered her to quit the Court,\nand never again to appear before him. The poor Princess went sadly up to\nher room and began to cry, but when she was reminded of her father's\ncommands, she dried her eyes, and made a bundle of her jewels and her\nbest dresses and hurriedly left the castle where she was born.\n\nShe walked straight along the road in front of her, without knowing very\nwell where she was going or what was to become of her, for she had never\nbeen shown how to work, and all she had learnt consisted of a few\nhousehold rules, and receipts of dishes which her mother had taught her\nlong ago. And as she was afraid that no housewife would want to engage a\ngirl with such a pretty face, she determined to make herself as ugly as\nshe could.\n\nShe therefore took off the dress that she was wearing and put on some\nhorrible old rags belonging to a beggar, all torn and covered with mud.\nAfter that she smeared mud all over her hands and face, and shook her\nhair into a great tangle. Having thus changed her appearance, she went\nabout offering herself as a goose-girl or shepherdess. But the farmers'\nwives would have nothing to say to such a dirty maiden, and sent her\naway with a morsel of bread for charity's sake.\n\nAfter walking for a great many days without being able to find any work,\nshe came to a large farm where they were in want of a shepherdess, and\nengaged her gladly.\n\nOne day when she was keeping her sheep in a lonely tract of land, she\nsuddenly felt a wish to dress herself in her robes of splendour. She\nwashed herself carefully in the stream, and as she always carried her\nbundle with her, it was easy to shake off her rags, and transform\nherself in a few moments into a great lady.\n\nThe King's son, who had lost his way out hunting, perceived this lovely\ndamsel a long way off, and wished to look at her closer. But as soon as\nthe girl saw what he was at, she fled into the wood as swiftly as a\nbird. The Prince ran after her, but as he was running he caught his foot\nin the root of a tree and fell, and when he got up again, she was\nnowhere to be seen.\n\nWhen she was quite safe, she put on her rags again, and smeared over her\nface and hands. However the young Prince, who was both hot and thirsty,\nfound his way to the farm, to ask for a drink of cider, and he inquired\nthe name of the beautiful lady that kept the sheep. At this everyone\nbegan to laugh, for they said that the shepherdess was one of the\nugliest and dirtiest creatures under the sun.\n\nThe Prince thought some witchcraft must be at work, and he hastened away\nbefore the return of the shepherdess, who became that evening the butt\nof everybody's jests.\n\nBut the King's son thought often of the lovely maiden whom he had only\nseen for a moment, though she seemed to him much more fascinating than\nany lady of the Court. At last he dreamed of nothing else, and grew\nthinner day by day till his parents inquired what was the matter,\npromising to do all they could to make him as happy as he once was. He\ndared not tell them the truth, lest they should laugh at him, so he only\nsaid that he should like some bread baked by the kitchen girl in the\ndistant farm.\n\nAlthough the wish appeared rather odd, they hastened to fulfil it, and\nthe farmer was told the request of the King's son. The maiden showed no\nsurprise at receiving such an order, but merely asked for some flour,\nsalt, and water, and also that she might be left alone in a little room\nadjoining the oven, where the kneading-trough stood. Before beginning\nher work she washed herself carefully, and even put on her rings; but,\nwhile she was baking, one of her rings slid into the dough. When she\nhad finished she dirtied herself again, and let lumps of the dough\nstick to her fingers, so that she became as ugly as before.\n\nThe loaf, which was a very little one, was brought to the King's son,\nwho ate it with pleasure. But in cutting it he found the ring of the\nPrincess, and declared to his parents that he would marry the girl whom\nthat ring fitted.\n\nSo the King made a proclamation through his whole kingdom, and ladies\ncame from afar to lay claim to the honour. But the ring was so tiny that\neven those who had the smallest hands could only get it on their little\nfingers. In a short time all the maidens of the kingdom, including the\npeasant girls, had tried on the ring, and the King was just about to\nannounce that their efforts had been in vain, when the Prince observed\nthat he had not yet seen the shepherdess.\n\nThey sent to fetch her, and she arrived covered with rags, but with her\nhands cleaner than usual, so that she could easily slip on the ring. The\nKing's son declared that he would fulfil his promise, and when his\nparents mildly remarked that the girl was only a keeper of sheep, and a\nvery ugly one too, the maiden boldly said that she was born a princess,\nand that, if they would only give her some water and leave her alone in\na room for a few minutes, she would show that she could look as well as\nanyone in fine clothes.\n\nThey did what she asked, and when she entered in a magnificent dress,\nshe looked so beautiful that all saw she must be a princess in disguise.\nThe King's son recognised the charming damsel of whom he had once caught\na glimpse, and, flinging himself at her feet, asked if she would marry\nhim. The Princess then told her story, and said that it would be\nnecessary to send an ambassador to her father to ask his consent and to\ninvite him to the wedding.\n\nThe Princess's father, who had never ceased to repent his harshness\ntowards his daughter, had sought her through the land, but as no one\ncould tell him anything of her, he supposed her dead. Therefore it was\nwith great joy he heard that she was living and that a king's son asked\nher in marriage, and he quitted his kingdom with his elder daughter so\nas to be present at the ceremony.\n\nBy the orders of the bride, they only served her father at the wedding\nbreakfast bread without salt, and meat without seasoning. Seeing him\nmake faces, and eat very little, his daughter, who sat beside him,\ninquired if his dinner was not to his taste.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n'No,' he replied, 'the dishes are carefully cooked and sent up, but they\nare all so dreadfully tasteless.'\n\n'Did not I tell you, my father, that salt was the best thing in life?\nAnd yet, when I compared you to salt, to show how much I loved you, you\nthought slightingly of me and you chased me from your presence.'\n\nThe King embraced his daughter, and allowed that he had been wrong to\nmisinterpret her words. Then, for the rest of the wedding feast they\ngave him bread made with salt, and dishes with seasoning, and he said\nthey were the very best he had ever eaten.\n\n Sebillot.\n\n\n\n\n _THE ENCHANTED SNAKE_\n\n\nThere was once upon a time a poor woman who would have given all she\npossessed for a child, but she hadn't one.\n\nNow it happened one day that her husband went to the wood to collect\nbrushwood, and when he had brought it home, he discovered a pretty\nlittle snake among the twigs.\n\nWhen Sabatella, for that was the name of the peasant's wife, saw the\nlittle beast, she sighed deeply and said, 'Even the snakes have their\nbrood; I alone am unfortunate and have no children.' No sooner had she\nsaid these words than, to her intense surprise, the little snake looked\nup into her face and spoke: 'Since you have no children, be a mother to\nme instead, and I promise you will never repent it, for I will love you\nas if I were your own son.'\n\nAt first Sabatella was frightened to death at hearing a snake speak, but\nplucking up her courage, she replied, 'If it weren't for any other\nreason than your kindly thought, I would agree to what you say, and I\nwill love you and look after you like a mother.'\n\nSo she gave the snake a little hole in the house for its bed, fed it\nwith all the nicest food she could think of, and seemed as if she never\ncould show it enough kindness. Day by day it grew bigger and fatter, and\nat last one morning it said to Cola-Mattheo, the peasant, whom it always\nregarded as its father, 'Dear papa, I am now of a suitable age and wish\nto marry.'\n\n'I'm quite agreeable,' answered Mattheo, 'and I'll do my best to find\nanother snake like yourself and arrange a match between you.'\n\n'Why, if you do that,' replied the snake, 'we shall be no better than\nthe vipers and reptiles, and that's not what I want at all. No; I'd much\nprefer to marry the King's daughter; therefore I pray you go without\nfurther delay, and demand an audience of the King, and tell him a snake\nwishes to marry his daughter.'\n\nCola-Mattheo, who was rather a simpleton, went as he was desired to the\nKing, and having obtained an audience, he said, 'Your Majesty, I have\noften heard that people lose nothing by asking, so I have come to\ninform you that a snake wants to marry your daughter, and I'd be glad to\nknow if you are willing to mate a dove with a serpent?'\n\nThe King, who saw at once that the man was a fool, said, in order to get\nquit of him, 'Go home and tell your friend the snake that if he can turn\nthis palace into ivory, inlaid with gold and silver, before to-morrow at\nnoon, I will let him marry my daughter.' And with a hearty laugh he\ndismissed the peasant.\n\nWhen Cola-Mattheo brought this answer back to the snake, the little\ncreature didn't seem the least put out, but said, 'To-morrow morning,\nbefore sunrise, you must go to the wood and gather a bunch of green\nherbs, and then rub the threshold of the palace with them, and you'll\nsee what will happen.'\n\nCola-Mattheo, who was, as I have said before, a great simpleton, made no\nreply; but before sunrise next morning he went to the wood and gathered\na bunch of St. John's Wort, and rosemary, and suchlike herbs, and rubbed\nthem, as he had been told, on the floor of the palace. Hardly had he\ndone so than the walls immediately turned into ivory, so richly inlaid\nwith gold and silver that they dazzled the eyes of all beholders. The\nKing, when he rose and saw the miracle that had been performed, was\nbeside himself with amazement, and didn't know what in the world he was\nto do.\n\nBut when Cola-Mattheo came next day, and, in the name of the snake,\ndemanded the hand of the Princess, the King replied, 'Don't be in such a\nhurry; if the snake really wants to marry my daughter, he must do some\nmore things first, and one of these is to turn all the paths and walls\nof my garden into pure gold before noon to-morrow.'\n\nWhen the snake was told of this new condition, he replied, 'To-morrow\nmorning, early, you must go and collect all the odds and ends of rubbish\nyou can find in the streets, and then take them and throw them on the\npaths and walls of the garden, and you'll see then if we won't be more\nthan a match for the old King.'\n\nSo Cola-Mattheo rose at cock-crow, took a large basket under his arm,\nand carefully collected all the broken fragments of pots and pans, and\njugs and lamps, and other trash of that sort. No sooner had he scattered\nthem over the paths and walls of the King's garden than they became one\nblaze of glittering gold, so that everyone's eyes were dazzled with the\nbrilliancy, and everyone's soul was filled with wonder. The King, too,\nwas amazed at the sight, but still he couldn't make up his mind to part\nwith his daughter, so when Cola-Mattheo came to remind him of his\npromise he replied, 'I have still a third demand to make. If the snake\ncan turn all the trees and fruit of my garden into precious stones, then\nI promise him my daughter in marriage.'\n\nWhen the peasant informed the snake what the King had said, he replied,\n'To-morrow morning, early, you must go to the market and buy all the\nfruit you see there, and then sow all the stones and seeds in the palace\ngarden, and, if I'm not mistaken, the King will be satisfied with the\nresult.'\n\nCola-Mattheo rose at dawn, and taking a basket on his arm, he went to\nthe market, and bought all the pomegranates, apricots, cherries, and\nother fruit he could find there, and sowed the seeds and stones in the\npalace garden. In one moment, the trees were all ablaze with rubies,\nemeralds, diamonds, and every other precious stone you can think of.\n\nThis time the King felt obliged to keep his promise, and calling his\ndaughter to him, he said, 'My dear Grannonia,' for that was the\nPrincess's name, 'more as a joke than anything else, I demanded what\nseemed to me impossibilities from your bridegroom, but now that he has\ndone all I required, I am bound to stick to my part of the bargain. Be a\ngood child, and as you love me, do not force me to break my word, but\ngive yourself up with as good grace as you can to a most unhappy fate.'\n\n'Do with me what you like, my lord and father, for your will is my law,'\nanswered Grannonia.\n\nWhen the King heard this, he told Cola-Mattheo to bring the snake to the\npalace, and said that he was prepared to receive the creature as his\nson-in-law.\n\nThe snake arrived at court in a carriage made of gold and drawn by six\nwhite elephants; but wherever it appeared on the way, the people fled in\nterror at the sight of the fearful reptile.\n\nWhen the snake reached the palace, all the courtiers shook and trembled\nwith fear down to the very scullion, and the King and Queen were in such\na state of nervous collapse that they hid themselves in a far-away\nturret. Grannonia alone kept her presence of mind, and although both her\nfather and mother implored her to fly for her life, she wouldn't move a\nstep, saying, 'I'm certainly not going to fly from the man you have\nchosen for my husband.'\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAs soon as the snake saw Grannonia, it wound its tail round her and\nkissed her. Then, leading her into a room, it shut the door, and\nthrowing off its skin, it changed into a beautiful young man with golden\nlocks, and flashing eyes, who embraced Grannonia tenderly, and said all\nsorts of pretty things to her.\n\nWhen the King saw the snake shut itself into a room with his daughter,\nhe said to his wife, 'Heaven be merciful to our child, for I fear it is\nall over with her now. This cursed snake has most likely swallowed her\nup.' Then they put their eyes to the keyhole to see what had happened.\n\nTheir amazement knew no bounds when they saw a beautiful youth standing\nbefore their daughter with the snake's skin lying on the floor beside\nhim. In their excitement they burst open the door, and seizing the skin\nthey threw it into the fire. But no sooner had they done this than the\nyoung man called out, 'Oh, wretched people! what have you done?' and\nbefore they had time to look round he had changed himself into a dove,\nand dashing against the window he broke a pane of glass, and flew away\nfrom their sight.\n\nBut Grannonia, who in one and the same moment saw herself merry and sad,\ncheerful and despairing, rich and beggared, complained bitterly over\nthis robbery of her happiness, this poisoning of her cup of joy, this\nunlucky stroke of fortune, and laid all the blame on her parents, though\nthey assured her that they had meant no harm. But the Princess refused\nto be comforted, and at night, when all the inhabitants of the palace\nwere asleep, she stole out by a back door, disguised as a peasant woman,\ndetermined to seek for her lost happiness till she found it. When she\ngot to the outskirts of the town, led by the light of the moon, she met\na fox, who offered to accompany her, an offer which Grannonia gladly\naccepted, saying 'You are most heartily welcome, for I don't know my way\nat all about the neighbourhood.'\n\nSo they went on their way together, and came at last to a wood, where,\nbeing tired with walking, they paused to rest under the shade of a tree,\nwhere a spring of water sported with the tender grass, refreshing it\nwith its crystal spray.\n\nThey laid themselves down on the green carpet and soon fell fast asleep,\nand did not waken again till the sun was high in the heavens. They rose\nup and stood for some time listening to the birds singing, because\nGrannonia delighted in their songs.\n\nWhen the fox perceived this, he said: 'If you only understood, as I do,\nwhat these little birds are saying, your pleasure would be even\ngreater.'\n\nProvoked by his words--for we all know that curiosity is as deeply\ninborn in every woman as even the love of talking--Grannonia implored\nthe fox to tell her what the birds had said.\n\nAt first the wily fox refused to tell her what he had gathered from the\nconversation of the birds, but at last he gave way to her entreaties,\nand told her that they had spoken of the misfortunes of a beautiful\nyoung Prince, whom a wicked enchantress had turned into a snake for the\nperiod of seven years. At the end of this time he had fallen in love\nwith a charming Princess, but that when he had shut himself up into a\nroom with her, and had thrown off his snake's skin, her parents had\nforced their way into the room and had burnt the skin, whereupon the\nPrince, changed into the likeness of a dove, had broken a pane of glass\nin trying to fly out of the window, and had wounded himself so badly\nthat the doctors despaired of his life.\n\nGrannonia, when she learnt that they were talking of her lover, asked at\nonce whose son he was, and if there was any hope of his recovery; to\nwhich the fox made answer that the birds had said he was the son of the\nKing of Vallone Grosso, and that the only thing that could cure him was\nto rub the wounds on his head with the blood of the very birds who had\ntold the tale.\n\nThen Grannonia knelt down before the fox, and begged him in her sweetest\nway to catch the birds for her and procure their blood, promising at the\nsame time to reward him richly.\n\n'All right,' said the fox, 'only don't be in such a hurry; let's wait\ntill night, when the little birds have gone to roost, then I'll climb up\nand catch them all for you.'\n\nSo they passed the day, talking now of the beauty of the Prince, now of\nthe father of the Princess, and then of the misfortune that had\nhappened. At last the night arrived, and all the little birds were\nasleep high up on the branches of a big tree. The fox climbed up\nstealthily and caught the little creatures with his paws one after the\nother; and when he had killed them all he put their blood into a little\nbottle which he wore at his side, and returned with it to Grannonia, who\nwas beside herself with joy at the result of the fox's raid. But the fox\nsaid, 'My dear daughter, your joy is in vain, because, let me tell you,\nthis blood is of no earthly use to you unless you add some of mine to\nit,' and with these words he took to his heels.\n\nGrannonia, who saw her hopes dashed to the ground in this cruel way, had\nrecourse to flattery and cunning, weapons which have often stood the sex\nin good stead, and called out after the fox, 'Father Fox, you would be\nquite right to save your skin, if, in the first place, I didn't feel I\nowed so much to you, and if, in the second, there weren't other foxes in\nthe world; but as you know how grateful I feel to you, and as there are\nheaps of other foxes about, you can trust yourself to me. Don't behave\nlike the cow that kicks the pail over after it has filled it with milk,\nbut continue your journey with me, and when we get to the capital you\ncan sell me to the King as a servant girl.'\n\nIt never entered the fox's head that even foxes can be outwitted, so\nafter a bit he consented to go with her; but he hadn't gone far before\nthe cunning girl seized a stick, and gave him such a blow with it on the\nhead, that he dropped down dead on the spot. Then Grannonia took some of\nhis blood and poured it into her little bottle, and went on her way as\nfast as she could to Vallone Grosso.\n\nWhen she arrived there she went straight to the Royal palace, and let\nthe King be told she had come to cure the young Prince.\n\nThe King commanded her to be brought before him at once, and was much\nastonished when he saw that it was a girl who undertook to do what all\nthe cleverest doctors of his kingdom had failed in. As an attempt hurts\nno one, he willingly consented that she should do what she could.\n\n'All I ask,' said Grannonia, 'is that, should I succeed in what you\ndesire, you will give me your son in marriage.'\n\nThe King, who had given up all hopes of his son's recovery, replied:\n'Only restore him to life and health and he shall be yours. It is only\nfair to give her a husband who gives me a son.'\n\nAnd so they went into the Prince's room. The moment Grannonia had rubbed\nthe blood on his wounds the illness left him, and he was as sound and\nwell as ever. When the King saw his son thus marvellously restored to\nlife and health, he turned to him and said: 'My dear son, I thought of\nyou as dead, and now, to my great joy and amazement, you are alive\nagain. I promised this young woman that if she should cure you, to\nbestow your hand and heart on her, and seeing that Heaven has been\ngracious, you must fulfil the promise I made her; for gratitude alone\nforces me to pay this debt.'\n\nBut the Prince answered: 'My lord and father, I would that my will were\nas free as my love for you is great. But as I have plighted my word to\nanother maiden, you will see yourself, and so will this young woman,\nthat I cannot go back from my word, and be faithless to her whom I\nlove.'\n\nWhen Grannonia heard these words, and saw how deeply rooted the Prince's\nlove for her was, she felt very happy, and blushing rosy red, she said:\n'But should I get the other lady to give up her rights, would you then\nconsent to marry me?'\n\n'Far be it from me,' replied the Prince, 'to banish the beautiful\npicture of my love from my heart. Whatever she may say, my heart and\ndesire will remain the same, and though I were to lose my life for it,\nI couldn't consent to this exchange.'\n\nGrannonia could keep silence no longer, and throwing off her peasant's\ndisguise, she discovered herself to the Prince, who was nearly beside\nhimself with joy when he recognised his fair lady-love. He then told his\nfather at once who she was, and what she had done and suffered for his\nsake.\n\nThen they invited the King and Queen of Starza-Longa to their Court, and\nhad a great wedding feast, and proved once more that there is no better\nseasoning for the joys of true love than a few pangs of grief.\n\n Kletke.\n\n\n\n\n _THE BITER BIT_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a man called Simon, who was very rich, but\nat the same time as stingy and miserly as he could be. He had a\nhousekeeper called Nina, a clever capable woman, and as she did her work\ncarefully and conscientiously, her master had the greatest respect for\nher.\n\nIn his young days Simon had been one of the gayest and most active\nyouths of the neighbourhood, but as he grew old and stiff he found it\nvery difficult to walk, and his faithful servant urged him to get a\nhorse so as to save his poor old bones. At last Simon gave way to the\nrequest and persuasive eloquence of his housekeeper, and betook himself\none day to the market where he had seen a mule, which he thought would\njust suit him, and which he bought for seven gold pieces.\n\nNow it happened that there were three merry rascals hanging about the\nmarket-place, who much preferred living on other people's goods to\nworking for their own living. As soon as they saw that Simon had bought\na mule, one of them said to his two boon companions, 'My friends, this\nmule must be ours before we are many hours older.'\n\n'But how shall we manage it,' asked one of them.\n\n'We must all three station ourselves at different intervals along the\nold man's homeward way, and must each in his turn declare that the mule\nhe has bought is a donkey. If we only stick to it you'll see the mule\nwill soon be ours.' This proposal quite satisfied the others, and they\nall separated as they had agreed.\n\nNow when Simon came by, the first rogue said to him, 'God bless you, my\nfine gentleman.'\n\n'Thanks for your courtesy,' replied Simon.\n\n'Where have you been?' asked the thief.\n\n'To the market,' was the reply.\n\n'And what did you buy there?' continued the rogue.\n\n'This mule.'\n\n'Which mule?'\n\n'The one I'm sitting upon, to be sure,' replied Simon.\n\n'Are you in earnest, or only joking?'\n\n'What do you mean?'\n\n'Because it seems to me you've got hold of a donkey, and not of a mule.'\n\n[Illustration]\n\n'A donkey? Rubbish!' screamed Simon, and without another word he rode on\nhis way. After a few hundred yards he met the second confederate, who\naddressed him, 'Good day, dear sir, where are you coming from?'\n\n'From the market,' answered Simon.\n\n'Did things go pretty cheap?' asked the other.\n\n'I should just think so,' said Simon.\n\n'And did you make any good bargain yourself?'\n\n'I bought this mule on which you see me.'\n\n'Is it possible that you really bought that beast for a mule?'\n\n'Why certainly.'\n\n'But, good heavens, it's nothing but a donkey!'\n\n'A donkey!' repeated Simon, 'you don't mean to say so; if a single\nother person tells me that, I'll make him a present of the wretched\nanimal.'\n\nWith these words he continued his way, and very soon met the third\nknave, who said to him, 'God bless you, sir; are you by any chance\ncoming from the market?'\n\n'Yes, I am,' replied Simon.\n\n'And what bargain did you drive there?' asked the cunning fellow.\n\n'I bought this mule on which I am riding.'\n\n'A mule! Are you speaking seriously, or do you wish to make a fool of\nme?'\n\n'I'm speaking in sober earnest,' said Simon; 'it wouldn't occur to me to\nmake a joke of it.'\n\n'Oh, my poor friend,' cried the rascal, 'don't you see that is a donkey\nand not a mule? you have been taken in by some wretched cheats.'\n\n'You are the third person in the last two hours who has told me the same\nthing,' said Simon, 'but I couldn't believe it,' and dismounting from\nthe mule he spoke: 'Keep the animal, I make you a present of it.' The\nrascal took the beast, thanked him kindly, and rode on to join his\ncomrades, while Simon continued his journey on foot.\n\nAs soon as the old man got home, he told his housekeeper that he had\nbought a beast under the belief that it was a mule, but that it had\nturned out to be a donkey--at least, so he had been assured by several\npeople he had met on the road, and that in disgust he had at last given\nit away.\n\n'Oh, you simpleton!' cried Nina; 'didn't you see that they were only\nplaying you a trick? Really, I thought you'd have had more gumption than\nthat; they wouldn't have taken me in in that way.'\n\n'Never mind,' replied Simon, 'I'll play them one worth two of that; for\ndepend upon it they won't be contented with having got the donkey out of\nme, but they'll try by some new dodge to get something more, or I'm much\nmistaken.'\n\nNow there lived in the village not far from Simon's house, a peasant who\nhad two goats, so alike in every respect that it was impossible to\ndistinguish one from the other. Simon bought them both, paid as small a\nprice as he could for them, and leading them home with him, he told Nina\nto prepare a good meal, as he was going to invite some friends to\ndinner. He ordered her to roast some veal, and to boil a pair of\nchickens, and gave her some herbs to make a good savoury, and told her\nto bake the best tart she could make. Then he took one of the goats and\ntied it to a post in the courtyard, and gave it some grass to eat; but\nhe bound a cord round the neck of the other goat and led it to the\nmarket.\n\nHardly had he arrived there, than the three gentlemen who had got his\nmule perceived him, and coming up to him said: 'Welcome, Mr. Simon, what\nbrings you here; are you on the look out for a bargain?'\n\n'I've come to get some provisions,' he answered, 'because some friends\nare coming to dine with me to-day, and it would give me much pleasure if\nyou were to honour me with your company also.'\n\nThe accomplices willingly accepted this invitation; and after Simon had\nmade all his purchases, he tied them on to the goat's back, and said to\nit, in the presence of the three cheats, 'Go home now, and tell Nina to\nroast the veal, and boil the chickens, and tell her to prepare a savoury\nwith herbs, and to bake the best tart she can make. Have you followed\nme? Then go, and Heaven's blessing go with you.'\n\nAs soon as it felt itself free, the laden goat trotted off as quickly as\nit could, and to this day nobody knows what became of it. But Simon,\nafter wandering about the market for some time with his three friends\nand some others he had picked up, returned home to his house.\n\nWhen he and his guests entered the courtyard, they noticed the goat tied\nto the post quietly chewing the cud. They were not a little astonished\nat this, for of course they thought it was the same goat that Simon had\nsent home laden with provisions. As soon as they reached the house Mr.\nSimon said to his housekeeper, 'Well, Nina, have you done what I told\nthe goat to tell you to do?' The artful woman, who at once understood\nher master, answered, 'Certainly I have. The veal is roasted, and the\nchickens boiled.'\n\n'That's all right,' said Simon.\n\nWhen the three rogues saw the cooked meats, and the tart in the oven,\nand heard Nina's words, they were nearly beside themselves with\namazement, and began to consult at once how they were to get the goat\ninto their own possession. At last, towards the end of the meal, having\nsought in vain for some cunning dodge to get the goat away from Mr.\nSimon, one of them said to him, 'My worthy host, you must sell your goat\nto us.'\n\nSimon replied that he was most unwilling to part with the creature, as\nno amount of money would make up to him for its loss; still, if they\nwere quite set on it, he would let them have the goat for fifty gold\npieces.\n\nThe knaves, who thought they were doing a capital piece of business,\npaid down the fifty gold pieces at once, and left the house quite\nhappily, leading the goat with them. When they got home they said to\ntheir wives, 'You needn't begin to cook the dinner to-morrow till we\nsend the provisions home.'\n\nThe following day they went to the market and bought chickens and other\neatables, and after they had packed them on the back of the goat (which\nthey had brought with them), they told it all the dishes they wished\ntheir wives to prepare. As soon as the goat felt itself free, it ran as\nquickly as it could, and was very soon lost to sight, and, as far as I\nknow, was never heard of again.\n\nWhen the dinner hour approached all three went home and asked their\nwives if the goat had returned with the necessary provisions, and had\ntold them what they wished prepared for their meal.\n\n'Oh, you fools and blockheads!' cried their wives, 'how could you ever\nbelieve for a moment that a goat would do the work of a servant-maid?\nYou have been finely deceived for once in a way. Of course, if you are\nalways taking in other people, your turn to be taken in comes too, and\nthis time you've been made to look pretty foolish.'\n\nWhen the three comrades saw that Mr. Simon had got the better of them,\nand done them out of fifty gold pieces, they flew into such a rage that\nthey made up their minds to kill him, and, seizing their weapons for\nthis purpose, went to his house.\n\nBut the sly old man, who was terrified for his life that the three\nrogues might do him some harm, was on his guard, and said to his\nhousekeeper, 'Nina, take this bladder, which is filled with blood, and\nhide it under your cloak; then when these thieves come I'll lay all the\nblame on you, and will pretend to be so angry with you that I will run\nat you with my knife, and pierce the bladder with it; then you must fall\non the ground as if you were dead, and leave the rest to me.'\n\nHardly had Simon said these words when the three rogues appeared and\nfell on him to kill him.\n\n'My friends,' called out Simon to them, 'what do you accuse me of? I am\nin no way to blame; perhaps my housekeeper has done you some injury of\nwhich I know nothing.' And with these words, he turned on Nina with his\nknife, and stuck it right into her, so that he pierced the bladder\nfilled with blood. Instantly the housekeeper fell down as if she were\ndead, and the blood streamed all over the ground.\n\nSimon then pretended to be seized with remorse at the sight of this\ndreadful catastrophe, and cried out in a loud voice, 'Unhappy wretch\nthat I am! What have I done? Like a madman I have killed the woman who\nis the prop and stay of my old age. How could I ever go on living\nwithout her?' Then he seized a pipe, and when he had blown into it for\nsome time Nina sprang up alive and well.\n\nThe rogues were more amazed than ever; they forgot their anger, and\nbuying the pipe for two hundred gold pieces, they went joyfully home.\n\nNot long after this one of them quarrelled with his wife, and in his\nrage he thrust his knife into her breast so that she fell dead on the\nground. Then he took Simon's pipe and blew into it with all his might,\nin the hopes of calling his wife back to life. But he blew in vain, for\nthe poor soul was as dead as a door-nail.\n\nWhen one of his comrades heard what had happened, he said, 'You\nblockhead, you can't have done it properly; just let me have a try,' and\nwith these words he seized his wife by the roots of her hair, cut her\nthroat with a razor, and then took the pipe and blew into it with all\nhis might but he couldn't bring her back to life. The same thing\nhappened to the third rogue, so that they were now all three without\nwives.\n\nFull of wrath they ran to Simon's house, and, refusing to listen to a\nword of explanation or excuse, they seized the old man and put him into\na sack, meaning to drown him in the neighbouring river. On their way\nthere, however, a sudden noise threw them into such a panic that they\ndropped the sack with Simon in it and ran for their lives.\n\nSoon after this a shepherd happened to pass by with his flock, and while\nhe was slowly following the sheep, who paused here and there by the\nwayside to browse on the tender grass, he heard a pitiful voice wailing,\n'They insist on my taking her, and I don't want her, for I am too old,\nand I really can't have her.' The shepherd was much startled, for he\ncouldn't make out where these words, which were repeated more than once,\ncame from, and looked about him to the right and left; at last he\nperceived the sack in which Simon was hidden, and going up to it he\nopened it and discovered Simon repeating his dismal complaint. The\nshepherd asked him why he had been left there tied up in a sack.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nSimon replied that the king of the country had insisted on giving him\none of his daughters as a wife, but that he had refused the honour\nbecause he was too old and too frail. The simple-minded shepherd, who\nbelieved his story implicitly, asked him, 'Do you think the king of the\ncountry would give his daughter to me?'\n\n'Yes, certainly, I know he would,' answered Simon, 'if you were tied up\nin this sack instead of me.' Then getting out of the sack, he tied the\nconfiding shepherd up in it instead, and at his request fastened it\nsecurely and drove the sheep on himself.\n\nAn hour had scarcely passed when the three rogues returned to the place\nwhere they had left Simon in the sack, and without opening it, one of\nthem seized it and threw it into the river. And so the poor shepherd was\ndrowned instead of Mr. Simon!\n\nThe three rogues, having wreaked their vengeance, set out for home. On\ntheir way they noticed a flock of sheep grazing not far from the road.\nThey longed to steal a few of the lambs, and approached the flock, and\nwere more than startled to recognise Mr. Simon, whom they had drowned in\nthe river, as the shepherd who was looking after the sheep. They asked\nhim how he had managed to get out of the river, to which he replied:\n\n'Get along with you--you are no better than silly donkeys without any\nsense; if you had only drowned me in deeper water I would have returned\nwith three times as many sheep.'\n\nWhen the three rogues heard this, they said to him: 'Oh, dear Mr. Simon,\ndo us the favour to tie us up in sacks and throw us into the river that\nwe may give up our thieving ways and become the owners of flocks.'\n\n'I am ready,' answered Simon, 'to do what you please; there's nothing in\nthe world I wouldn't do for you.'\n\nSo he took three strong sacks and put a man in each of them, and\nfastened them up so tightly that they couldn't get out, and then he\nthrew them all into the river; and that was the end of the three rogues.\nBut Mr. Simon returned home to his faithful Nina rich in flocks and\ngold; and lived for many a year in health and happiness.\n\n Kletke.\n\n\n\n\n _KING KOJATA_\n\n (FROM THE RUSSIAN)\n\n\nThere was once upon a time a king called Kojata, whose beard was so long\nthat it reached below his knees. Three years had passed since his\nmarriage, and he lived very happily with his wife, but Heaven granted\nhim no heir, which grieved the King greatly. One day he set forth from\nhis capital, in order to make a journey through his kingdom. He\ntravelled for nearly a year through the different parts of his\nterritory, and then, having seen all there was to be seen, he set forth\non his homeward way. As the day was very hot and sultry he commanded his\nservants to pitch tents in the open field, and there await the cool of\nthe evening. Suddenly a frightful thirst seized the King, and as he saw\nno water near, he mounted his horse, and rode through the neighbourhood\nlooking for a spring. Before long he came to a well filled to the brim\nwith water clear as crystal, and on the bosom of which a golden jug was\nfloating. King Kojata at once tried to seize the vessel, but though he\nendeavoured to grasp it with his right hand, and then with his left, the\nwretched thing always eluded his efforts and refused to let itself be\ncaught. First with one hand, and then with two, did the King try to\nseize it, but like a fish the goblet always slipped through his fingers\nand bobbed to the ground only to reappear at some other place, and mock\nthe King.\n\n'Plague on you!' said King Kojata. 'I can quench my thirst without you,'\nand bending over the well he lapped up the water so greedily that he\nplunged his face, beard and all, right into the crystal mirror. But when\nhe had satisfied his thirst, and wished to raise himself up, he couldn't\nlift his head, because someone held his beard fast in the water. 'Who's\nthere? let me go!' cried King Kojata, but there was no answer; only an\nawful face looked up from the bottom of the well with two great green\neyes, glowing like emeralds, and a wide mouth reaching from ear to ear\nshowing two rows of gleaming white teeth, and the King's beard was held,\nnot by mortal hands, but by two claws. At last a hoarse voice sounded\nfrom the depths. 'Your trouble is all in vain, King Kojata; I will only\nlet you go on condition that you give me something you know nothing\nabout, and which you will find on your return home.'\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe King didn't pause to ponder long, 'for what,' thought he, 'could be\nin my palace without my knowing about it--the thing is absurd;' so he\nanswered quickly:\n\n'Yes, I promise that you shall have it.'\n\nThe voice replied, 'Very well; but it will go ill with you if you fail\nto keep your promise.' Then the claws relaxed their hold, and the face\ndisappeared in the depths. The King drew his chin out of the water, and\nshook himself like a dog; then he mounted his horse and rode\nthoughtfully home with his retinue. When they approached the capital,\nall the people came out to meet them with great joy and acclamation, and\nwhen the King reached his palace the Queen met him on the threshold;\nbeside her stood the Prime Minister, holding a little cradle in his\nhands, in which lay a new-born child as beautiful as the day. Then the\nwhole thing dawned on the King, and groaning deeply he muttered to\nhimself, 'So this is what I did not know about,' and the tears rolled\ndown his cheeks. All the courtiers standing round were much amazed at\nthe King's grief, but no one dared to ask him the cause of it. He took\nthe child in his arms and kissed it tenderly; then laying it in its\ncradle, he determined to control his emotion and began to reign again as\nbefore.\n\nThe secret of the King remained a secret, though his grave, careworn\nexpression escaped no one's notice. In the constant dread that his child\nwould be taken from him, poor Kojata knew no rest night or day. However,\ntime went on and nothing happened. Days and months and years passed, and\nthe Prince grew up into a beautiful youth, and at last the King himself\nforgot all about the incident that had happened so long ago.\n\nOne day the Prince went out hunting, and going in pursuit of a wild boar\nhe soon lost the other huntsmen, and found himself quite alone in the\nmiddle of a dark wood. The trees grew so thick and near together that it\nwas almost impossible to see through them, only straight in front of him\nlay a little patch of meadowland, overgrown with thistles and rank\nweeds, in the centre of which a leafy lime tree reared itself. Suddenly\na rustling sound was heard in the hollow of the tree, and an\nextraordinary old man with green eyes and chin crept out of it.\n\n'A fine day, Prince Milan,' he said; 'you've kept me waiting a good\nnumber of years; it was high time for you to come and pay me a visit.'\n\n'Who are you, in the name of wonder?' demanded the astonished Prince.\n\n'You'll find out soon enough, but in the meantime do as I bid you. Greet\nyour father King Kojata from me, and don't forget to remind him of his\ndebt; the time has long passed since it was due, but now he will have to\npay it. Farewell for the present; we shall meet again.'\n\nWith these words the old man disappeared into the tree, and the Prince\nreturned home rather startled, and told his father all that he had seen\nand heard.\n\nThe King grew as white as a sheet when he heard the Prince's story, and\nsaid, 'Woe is me, my son! The time has come when we must part,' and with\na heavy heart he told the Prince what had happened at the time of his\nbirth.\n\n'Don't worry or distress yourself, dear father,' answered Prince Milan.\n'Things are never as bad as they look. Only give me a horse for my\njourney, and I wager you'll soon see me back again.'\n\nThe King gave him a beautiful charger, with golden stirrups, and a\nsword. The Queen hung a little cross round his neck, and after much\nweeping and lamentation the Prince bade them all farewell and set forth\non his journey.\n\nHe rode straight on for two days, and on the third he came to a lake as\nsmooth as glass and as clear as crystal. Not a breath of wind moved, not\na leaf stirred, all was silent as the grave, only on the still bosom of\nthe lake thirty ducks, with brilliant plumage, swam about in the water.\nNot far from the shore Prince Milan noticed thirty little white garments\nlying on the grass, and dismounting from his horse, he crept down under\nthe high bulrushes, took one of the garments and hid himself with it\nbehind the bushes which grew round the lake. The ducks swam about all\nover the place, dived down into the depths and rose again and glided\nthrough the waves. At last, tired of disporting themselves, they swam to\nthe shore, and twenty-nine of them put on their little white garments\nand instantly turned into so many beautiful maidens. Then they finished\ndressing and disappeared. Only the thirtieth little duck couldn't come\nto the land; it swam about close to the shore, and, giving out a\npiercing cry, it stretched its neck up timidly, gazed wildly around, and\nthen dived under again. Prince Milan's heart was so moved with pity for\nthe poor little creature that he came out from behind the bulrushes, to\nsee if he could be of any help. As soon as the duck perceived him, it\ncried in a human voice, 'Oh, dear Prince Milan, for the love of Heaven\ngive me back my garment, and I will be so grateful to you.' The Prince\nlaid the little garment on the bank beside her, and stepped back into\nthe bushes. In a few seconds a beautiful girl in a white robe stood\nbefore him, so fair and sweet and young that no pen could describe her.\nShe gave the Prince her hand and spoke.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n'Many thanks, Prince Milan, for your courtesy. I am the daughter of a\nwicked magician, and my name is Hyacinthia. My father has thirty young\ndaughters, and is a mighty ruler in the underworld, with many castles\nand great riches. He has been expecting you for ages, but you need have\nno fear if you will only follow my advice. As soon as you come into the\npresence of my father, throw yourself at once on the ground and approach\nhim on your knees. Don't mind if he stamps furiously with his feet and\ncurses and swears. I'll attend to the rest, and in the meantime we had\nbetter be off.'\n\nWith these words the beautiful Hyacinthia stamped on the ground with\nher little foot, and the earth opened and they both sank down into the\nlower world.\n\nThe palace of the Magician was all hewn out of a single carbuncle,\nlighting up the whole surrounding region, and Prince Milan walked into\nit gaily.\n\nThe Magician sat on a throne, a sparkling crown on his head; his eyes\nblazed like a green fire, and instead of hands he had claws. As soon as\nPrince Milan entered he flung himself on his knees. The Magician stamped\nloudly with his feet, glared frightfully out of his green eyes, and\ncursed so loudly that the whole underworld shook. But the Prince,\nmindful of the counsel he had been given, wasn't the least afraid, and\napproached the throne still on his knees. At last the Magician laughed\naloud and said, 'You rogue, you have been well advised to make me laugh;\nI won't be your enemy any more. Welcome to the underworld! All the same,\nfor your delay in coming here, we must demand three services from you.\nFor to-day you may go, but to-morrow I shall have something more to say\nto you.'\n\nThen two servants led Prince Milan to a beautiful apartment, and he lay\ndown fearlessly on the soft bed that had been prepared for him, and was\nsoon fast asleep.\n\nEarly the next morning the Magician sent for him, and said, 'Let's see\nnow what you've learnt. In the first place you must build me a palace\nto-night, the roof of purest gold, the walls of marble, and the windows\nof crystal; all round you must lay out a beautiful garden, with\nfish-ponds and artistic waterfalls. If you do all this, I will reward you\nrichly; but if you don't, you shall lose your head.'\n\n'Oh, you wicked monster!' thought Prince Milan, 'you might as well have\nput me to death at once.' Sadly he returned to his room, and with bent\nhead sat brooding over his cruel fate till evening. When it grew dark, a\nlittle bee flew by, and knocking at the window, it said, 'Open, and let\nme in.'\n\nMilan opened the window quickly, and as soon as the bee had entered, it\nchanged into the beautiful Hyacinthia.\n\n'Good evening, Prince Milan. Why are you so sad?'\n\n'How can I help being sad? Your father threatens me with death, and I\nsee myself already without a head.'\n\n'And what have you made up your mind to do?'\n\n'There's nothing to be done, and after all I suppose one can only die\nonce.'\n\n'Now, don't be so foolish, my dear Prince; but keep up your spirits, for\nthere is no need to despair. Go to bed, and when you wake up to-morrow\nmorning the palace will be finished. Then you must go all round it,\ngiving a tap here and there on the walls to look as if you had just\nfinished it.'\n\nAnd so it all turned out just as she had said. As soon as it was\ndaylight Prince Milan stepped out of his room, and found a palace which\nwas quite a work of art down to the very smallest detail. The Magician\nhimself was not a little astonished at its beauty, and could hardly\nbelieve his eyes.\n\n'Well, you certainly are a splendid workman,' he said to the Prince. 'I\nsee you are very clever with your hands, now I must see if you are\nequally accomplished with your head. I have thirty daughters in my\nhouse, all beautiful princesses. To-morrow I will place the whole thirty\nin a row. You must walk past them three times, and the third time you\nmust show me which is my youngest daughter Hyacinthia. If you don't\nguess rightly, you shall lose your head.'\n\n'This time you've made a mistake,' thought Prince Milan, and going to\nhis room he sat down at the window. 'Just fancy my not recognising the\nbeautiful Hyacinthia! Why, that's the easiest thing in the world.'\n\n'Not so easy as you think,' cried the little bee, who was flying past.\n'If I weren't to help you, you'd never guess. We are thirty sisters so\nexactly alike that our own father can hardly distinguish us apart.'\n\n'Then what am I to do?' asked Prince Milan.\n\n'Listen,' answered Hyacinthia. 'You will recognise me by a tiny fly I\nshall have on my left cheek, but be careful, for you might easily make a\nmistake.'\n\nThe next day the Magician again commanded Prince Milan to be led before\nhim. His daughters were all arranged in a straight row in front of him,\ndressed exactly alike, and with their eyes bent on the ground.\n\n'Now, you genius,' said the Magician, 'look at these beauties three\ntimes, and then tell us which is the Princess Hyacinthia.'\n\nPrince Milan went past them and looked at them closely. But they were\nall so precisely alike that they looked like one face reflected in\nthirty mirrors, and the fly was nowhere to be seen; the second time he\npassed them he still saw nothing; but the third time he perceived a\nlittle-fly stealing down one cheek, causing it to blush a faint pink.\nThen the Prince seized the girl's hand and cried out, 'This is the\nPrincess Hyacinthia!'\n\n[Illustration]\n\n'You're right again,' said the Magician in amazement; 'but I've still\nanother task for you to do. Before this candle, which I shall light,\nburns to the socket, you must have made me a pair of boots reaching to\nmy knees. If they aren't finished in that time, off comes your head.'\n\nThe Prince returned to his room in despair; then the Princess Hyacinthia\ncame to him once more changed into the likeness of a bee, and asked him,\n'Why so sad, Prince Milan?'\n\n'How can I help being sad? Your father has set me this time an\nimpossible task. Before a candle which he has lit burns to the socket, I\nam to make a pair of boots. But what does a prince know of shoemaking?\nIf I can't do it, I lose my head.'\n\n'And what do you mean to do?' asked Hyacinthia.\n\n'Well, what is there to be done? What he demands I can't and won't do,\nso he must just make an end of me.'\n\n'Not so, dearest. I love you dearly, and you shall marry me, and I'll\neither save your life or die with you. We must fly now as quickly as we\ncan, for there is no other way of escape.'\n\nWith these words she breathed on the window, and her breath froze on the\npane. Then she led Milan out of the room with her, shut the door, and\nthrew the key away. Hand in hand, they hurried to the spot where they\nhad descended into the lower world, and at last reached the banks of the\nlake. Prince Milan's charger was still grazing on the grass which grew\nnear the water. The horse no sooner recognised his master, than it\nneighed loudly with joy, and springing towards him, it stood as if\nrooted to the ground, while Prince Milan and Hyacinthia jumped on its\nback. Then it sped onwards like an arrow from a bow.\n\nIn the meantime the Magician was waiting impatiently for the Prince.\nEnraged by the delay, he sent his servants to fetch him, for the\nappointed time was past.\n\nThe servants came to the door, and finding it locked, they knocked; but\nthe frozen breath on the window replied in Prince Milan's voice, 'I am\ncoming directly.' With this answer they returned to the Magician. But\nwhen the Prince still did not appear, after a time he sent his servants\na second time to bring him. The frozen breath always gave the same\nanswer, but the Prince never came. At last the Magician lost all\npatience, and commanded the door to be burst open. But when his servants\ndid so, they found the room empty, and the frozen breath laughed aloud.\nOut of his mind with rage, the Magician ordered the Prince to be\npursued.\n\nThen a wild chase began. 'I hear horses' hoofs behind us,' said\nHyacinthia to the Prince. Milan sprang from the saddle, put his ear to\nthe ground and listened. 'Yes,' he answered, 'they are pursuing us, and\nare quite close.' 'Then no time must be lost,' said Hyacinthia, and she\nimmediately turned herself into a river, Prince Milan into an iron\nbridge, and the charger into a blackbird. Behind the bridge the road\nbranched off into three ways.\n\nThe Magician's servants hurried after the fresh tracks, but when they\ncame to the bridge, they stood, not knowing which road to take, as the\nfootprints stopped suddenly, and there were three paths for them to\nchoose from. In fear and trembling they returned to tell the Magician\nwhat had happened. He flew into a dreadful rage when he saw them, and\nscreamed out, 'Oh, you fools! the river and bridge were they! Go back\nand bring them to me at once, or it will be the worse for you.'\n\nThen the pursuit began afresh. 'I hear horses' hoofs,' sighed\nHyacinthia. The Prince dismounted and put his ear to the ground. 'They\nare hurrying after us, and are already quite near.' In a moment the\nPrincess Hyacinthia had changed herself, the Prince, and his charger\ninto a thick wood where a thousand paths and roads crossed each other.\nTheir pursuers entered the forest, but searched in vain for Prince Milan\nand his bride. At last they found themselves back at the same spot they\nhad started from; and in despair they returned once more with empty\nhands to the Magician.\n\n'Then I'll go after the wretches myself,' he shouted. 'Bring a horse at\nonce; they shan't escape me.'\n\nOnce more the beautiful Hyacinthia murmured, 'I hear horses' hoofs quite\nnear.' And the Prince answered, 'They are pursuing us hotly and are\nquite close.'\n\n'We are lost now, for that is my father himself. But at the first church\nwe come to his power ceases; he may chase us no further. Hand me your\ncross.'\n\nPrince Milan loosened from his neck the little gold cross his mother had\ngiven him, and as soon as Hyacinthia grasped it, she had changed herself\ninto a church, Milan into a monk, and the horse into a belfry. They had\nhardly done this when the magician and his servants rode up.\n\n'Did you see no one pass by on horseback, reverend father?' he asked\nthe monk.\n\n'Prince Milan and Princess Hyacinthia have just gone on this minute;\nthey stopped for a few minutes in the church to say their prayers, and\nbade me light this wax candle for you, and give you their love.'\n\n'I'd like to wring their necks,' said the magician, and made all haste\nhome, where he had every one of his servants beaten to within an inch of\ntheir lives.\n\nPrince Milan rode on slowly with his bride without fearing any further\npursuit. The sun was just setting, and its last rays lit up a large city\nthey were approaching. Prince Milan was suddenly seized with an ardent\ndesire to enter the town.\n\n'Oh my beloved,' implored Hyacinthia, 'please don't go; for I am\nfrightened and fear some evil.'\n\n'What are you afraid of?' asked the Prince. 'We'll only go and look at\nwhat's to be seen in the town for about an hour, and then we'll continue\nour journey to my father's kingdom.'\n\n'The town is easy to get into, but more difficult to get out of,' sighed\nHyacinthia. 'But let it be as you wish. Go, and I will await you here,\nbut I will first change myself into a white milestone; only I pray you\nbe very careful. The King and Queen of the town will come out to meet\nyou, leading a little child with them. Whatever you do, don't kiss the\nchild, or you will forget me and all that has happened to us. I will\nwait for you here for three days.'\n\nThe Prince hurried to the town, but Hyacinthia remained behind disguised\nas a white milestone on the road. The first day passed, and then the\nsecond, and at last the third also, but Prince Milan did not return, for\nhe had not taken Hyacinthia's advice. The King and Queen came out to\nmeet him as she had said, leading with them a lovely fair-haired little\ngirl, whose eyes shone like two clear stars. The child at once caressed\nthe Prince, who, carried away by its beauty, bent down and kissed it on\nthe cheek. From that moment his memory became a blank, and he forgot all\nabout the beautiful Hyacinthia.\n\nWhen the Prince did not return, poor Hyacinthia wept bitterly and\nchanging herself from a milestone into a little blue field flower, she\nsaid, 'I will grow here on the wayside till some passer-by tramples me\nunder foot.' And one of her tears remained as a dew-drop and sparkled on\nthe little blue flower.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nNow it happened shortly after this that an old man passed by, and seeing\nthe flower, he was delighted with its beauty. He pulled it up carefully\nby the roots and carried it home. Here he planted it in a pot, and\nwatered and tended the little plant carefully. And now the most\nextraordinary thing happened, for from this moment everything in the old\nman's house was changed. When he awoke in the morning he always found\nhis room tidied and put into such beautiful order that not a speck of\ndust was to be found anywhere. When he came home at midday, he found a\ntable laid out with the most dainty food, and he had only to sit down\nand enjoy himself to his heart's content. At first he was so surprised\nhe didn't know what to think, but after a time he grew a little\nuncomfortable, and went to an old witch to ask for advice.\n\nThe witch said, 'Get up before the cock crows, and watch carefully till\nyou see something move, and then throw this cloth quickly over it, and\nyou'll see what will happen.'\n\nAll night the old man never closed an eye. When the first ray of light\nentered the room, he noticed that the little blue flower began to\ntremble, and at last it rose out of the pot and flew about the room, put\neverything in order, swept away the dust, and lit the fire. In great\nhaste the old man sprang from his bed, and covered the flower with the\ncloth the old witch had given him, and in a moment the beautiful\nPrincess Hyacinthia stood before him.\n\n'What have you done?' she cried. 'Why have you called me back to life?\nFor I have no desire to live since my bridegroom, the beautiful Prince\nMilan, has deserted me.'\n\n'Prince Milan is just going to be married,' replied the old man.\n'Everything is being got ready for the feast, and all the invited guests\nare flocking to the palace from all sides.'\n\nThe beautiful Hyacinthia cried bitterly when she heard this; then she\ndried her tears, and went into the town dressed as a peasant woman. She\nwent straight to the King's kitchen, where the white-aproned cooks were\nrunning about in great confusion. The Princess went up to the head cook,\nand said, 'Dear cook, please listen to my request, and let me make a\nwedding-cake for Prince Milan.'\n\nThe busy cook was just going to refuse her demand and order her out of\nthe kitchen, but the words died on his lips when he turned and beheld\nthe beautiful Hyacinthia, and he answered politely, 'You have just come\nin the nick of time, fair maiden. Bake your cake, and I myself will lay\nit before Prince Milan.'\n\nThe cake was soon made. The invited guests were already thronging round\nthe table, when the head cook entered the room, bearing a beautiful\nwedding cake on a silver dish, and laid it before Prince Milan. The\nguests were all lost in admiration, for the cake was quite a work of\nart. Prince Milan at once proceeded to cut it open, when to his surprise\ntwo white doves sprang out of it, and one of them said to the other: 'My\ndear mate, do not fly away and leave me, and forget me as Prince Milan\nforgot his beloved Hyacinthia.'\n\nMilan sighed deeply when he heard what the little dove said. Then he\njumped up suddenly from the table and ran to the door, where he found\nthe beautiful Hyacinthia waiting for him. Outside stood his faithful\ncharger, pawing the ground. Without pausing for a moment, Milan and\nHyacinthia mounted him and galloped as fast as they could into the\ncountry of King Kojata. The King and Queen received them with such joy\nand gladness as had never been heard of before, and they all lived\nhappily for the rest of their lives.\n\n Kletke.\n\n\n\n\n _PRINCE FICKLE AND FAIR HELENA_\n\n (FROM THE GERMAN)\n\n\nThere was once upon a time a beautiful girl called Helena. Her own\nmother had died when she was quite a child, and her stepmother was as\ncruel and unkind to her as she could be. Helena did all she could to\ngain her love, and performed the heavy work given her to do cheerfully\nand well; but her stepmother's heart wasn't in the least touched, and\nthe more the poor girl did the more she asked her to do.\n\nOne day she gave Helena twelve pounds of mixed feathers and bade her\nseparate them all before evening, threatening her with a heavy\npunishment if she failed to do so.\n\nThe poor child sat down to her task with her eyes so full of tears that\nshe could hardly see to begin. And when she had made one little heap of\nfeathers, she sighed so deeply that they all blew apart again. And so it\nwent on, and the poor girl grew more and more miserable. She bowed her\nhead in her hands and cried, 'Is there no one under heaven who will take\npity on me?'\n\nSuddenly a soft voice replied, 'Be comforted, my child: I have come to\nhelp you.'\n\nTerrified to death, Helena looked up and saw a Fairy standing in front\nof her, who asked in the kindest way possible, 'Why are you crying, my\ndear?'\n\nHelena, who for long had heard no friendly voice, confided her sad tale\nof woe to the Fairy, and told her what the new task she had been given\nto do was, and how she despaired of ever accomplishing it.\n\n'Don't worry yourself about it any more,' said the kind Fairy; 'lie down\nand go to sleep, and I'll see that your work is done all right.' So\nHelena lay down, and when she awoke all the feathers were sorted into\nlittle bundles; but when she turned to thank the good Fairy she had\nvanished.\n\nIn the evening her stepmother returned and was much amazed to find\nHelena sitting quietly with her work all finished before her.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nShe praised her diligence, but at the same time racked her brain as to\nwhat harder task she could set her to do.\n\nThe next day she told Helena to empty a pond near the house with a spoon\nwhich was full of holes. Helena set to work at once, but she very soon\nfound that what her stepmother had told her to do was an impossibility.\nFull of despair and misery, she was in the act of throwing the spoon\naway, when suddenly the kind Fairy stood before her again, and asked her\nwhy she was so unhappy?\n\nWhen Helena told her of her stepmother's new demand she said, 'Trust to\nme and I will do your task for you. Lie down and have a sleep in the\nmeantime.'\n\nHelena was comforted and lay down, and before you would have believed it\npossible the Fairy roused her gently and told her the pond was empty.\nFull of joy and gratitude, Helena hurried to her stepmother, hoping that\nnow at last her heart would be softened towards her. But the wicked\nwoman was furious at the frustration of her own evil designs, and only\nthought of what harder thing she could set the girl to do.\n\nNext morning she ordered her to build before evening a beautiful castle,\nand to furnish it all from garret to basement. Helena sat down on the\nrocks which had been pointed out to her as the site of the castle,\nfeeling very depressed, but at the same time with the lurking hope that\nthe kind Fairy would come once more to her aid.\n\nAnd so it turned out. The Fairy appeared, promised to build the castle,\nand told Helena to lie down and go to sleep in the meantime. At the word\nof the Fairy the rocks and stones rose and built themselves into a\nbeautiful castle, and before sunset it was all furnished inside, and\nleft nothing to be desired. You may think how grateful Helena was when\nshe awoke and found her task all finished.\n\nBut her stepmother was anything but pleased, and went through the whole\ncastle from top to bottom, to see if she couldn't find some fault for\nwhich she could punish Helena. At last she went down into one of the\ncellars, but it was so dark that she fell down the steep stairs and was\nkilled on the spot.\n\nSo Helena was now mistress of the beautiful castle, and lived there in\npeace and happiness. And soon the noise of her beauty spread abroad, and\nmany wooers came to try and gain her hand.\n\nAmong them came one Prince Fickle by name, who very quickly won the love\nof fair Helena. One day, as they were sitting happily together under a\nlime-tree in front of the castle, Prince Fickle broke the sad news to\nHelena that he must return to his parents to get their consent to his\nmarriage. He promised faithfully to come back to her as soon as he\ncould, and begged her to await his return under the lime-tree where they\nhad spent so many happy hours.\n\nHelena kissed him tenderly at parting on his left cheek, and begged him\nnot to let anyone else kiss him there while they were parted, and she\npromised to sit and wait for him under the lime-tree, for she never\ndoubted that the Prince would be faithful to her and would return as\nquickly as he could.\n\nAnd so she sat for three days and three nights under the tree without\nmoving. But when her lover never returned, she grew very unhappy, and\ndetermined to set out to look for him. She took as many of her jewels as\nshe could carry, and three of her most beautiful dresses, one\nembroidered with stars, one with moons, and the third with suns, all of\npure gold. Far and wide she wandered through the world, but nowhere did\nshe find any trace of her bridegroom. At last she gave up the search in\ndespair. She could not bear to return to her own castle where she had\nbeen so happy with her lover, but determined rather to endure her\nloneliness and desolation in a strange land. She took a place as\nherd-girl with a peasant, and buried her jewels and beautiful dresses in\na safe and hidden spot.\n\nEvery day she drove the cattle to pasture, and all the time she thought\nof nothing but her faithless bridegroom. She was very devoted to a\ncertain little calf in the herd, and made a great pet of it, feeding it\nout of her own hands. She taught it to kneel before her, and then she\nwhispered in its ear:\n\n 'Kneel, little calf, kneel;\n Be faithful and leal,\n Not like Prince Fickle,\n Who once on a time\n Left his fair Helena\n Under the lime.'\n\nAfter some years passed in this way, she heard that the daughter of the\nking of the country she was living in was going to marry a Prince called\n'Fickle.' Everybody rejoiced at the news except poor Helena, to whom it\nwas a fearful blow, for at the bottom of her heart she had always\nbelieved her lover to be true.\n\nNow it chanced that the way to the capital led right past the village\nwhere Helena was, and often when she was leading her cattle forth to the\nmeadows Prince Fickle rode past her, without ever noticing the poor\nherd-girl, so engrossed was he in thoughts of his new bride. Then it\noccurred to Helena to put his heart to the test and to see if it weren't\npossible to recall herself to him. So one day as Prince Fickle rode by\nshe said to her little calf:\n\n 'Kneel, little calf, kneel;\n Be faithful and leal,\n Not like Prince Fickle,\n Who once on a time\n Left his poor Helena\n Under the lime.'\n\nWhen Prince Fickle heard her voice it seemed to him to remind him of\nsomething, but of what he couldn't remember, for he hadn't heard the\nwords distinctly, as Helena had only spoken them very low and with a\nshaky voice. Helena herself had been far too moved to let her see what\nimpression her words had made on the Prince, and when she looked round\nhe was already far away. But she noticed how slowly he was riding, and\nhow deeply sunk he was in thought, so she didn't quite give herself up\nas lost.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nIn honour of the approaching wedding a feast lasting many nights was to\nbe given in the capital. Helena placed all her hopes on this, and\ndetermined to go to the feast and there to seek out her bridegroom.\n\nWhen evening drew near she stole out of the peasant's cottage secretly,\nand, going to her hiding-place, she put on her dress embroidered with\nthe gold suns, and all her jewels, and loosed her beautiful golden hair,\nwhich up to now she had always worn under a kerchief, and, adorned thus,\nshe set out for the town.\n\nWhen she entered the ball-room all eyes were turned on her, and everyone\nmarvelled at her beauty, but no one knew who she was. Prince Fickle,\ntoo, was quite dazzled by the charms of the beautiful maiden, and never\nguessed that she had once been his own lady-love. He never left her side\nall night, and it was with great difficulty that Helena escaped from him\nin the crowd when it was time to return home. Prince Fickle searched for\nher everywhere, and longed eagerly for the next night, when the\nbeautiful lady had promised to come again.\n\nThe following evening the fair Helena started early for the feast.\n\nThis time she wore her dress embroidered with silver moons, and in her\nhair she placed a silver crescent. Prince Fickle was enchanted to see\nher again, and she seemed to him even more beautiful than she had been\nthe night before. He never left her side, and refused to dance with\nanyone else. He begged her to tell him who she was, but this she refused\nto do. Then he implored her to return again next evening, and this she\npromised him she would.\n\nOn the third evening Prince Fickle was so impatient to see his fair\nenchantress again, that he arrived at the feast hours before it began,\nand never took his eyes from the door. At last Helena arrived in a dress\nall covered with gold and silver stars, and with a girdle of stars round\nher waist, and a band of stars in her hair. Prince Fickle was more in\nlove with her than ever, and begged her once again to tell him her name.\n\nThen Helena kissed him silently on the left cheek, and in one moment\nPrince Fickle recognised his old love. Full of remorse and sorrow, he\nbegged for her forgiveness, and Helena, only too pleased to have got him\nback again, did not, you may be sure, keep him waiting very long for her\npardon, and so they were married and returned to Helena's castle, where\nthey are no doubt still sitting happily together under the lime-tree.\n\n Kletke.\n\n\n\n\n _PUDDOCKY_\n\n (FROM THE GERMAN)\n\n\nThere was once upon a time a poor woman who had one little daughter\ncalled 'Parsley.' She was so called because she liked eating parsley\nbetter than any other food, indeed she would hardly eat anything else.\nHer poor mother hadn't enough money always to be buying parsley for her,\nbut the child was so beautiful that she could refuse her nothing, and so\nshe went every night to the garden of an old witch who lived near and\nstole great branches of the coveted vegetable, in order to satisfy her\ndaughter.\n\nThis remarkable taste of the fair Parsley soon became known, and the\ntheft was discovered. The witch called the girl's mother to her, and\nproposed that she should let her daughter come and live with her, and\nthen she could eat as much parsley as she liked. The mother was quite\npleased with this suggestion, and so the beautiful Parsley took up her\nabode with the old witch.\n\nOne day three Princes, whom their father had sent abroad to travel, came\nto the town where Parsley lived and perceived the beautiful girl combing\nand plaiting her long black hair at the window. In one moment they all\nfell hopelessly in love with her, and longed ardently to have the girl\nfor their wife; but hardly had they with one breath expressed their\ndesire than, mad with jealousy, they drew their swords and all three set\nupon each other. The struggle was so violent and the noise so loud that\nthe old witch heard it, and said at once 'Of course Parsley is at the\nbottom of all this.'\n\nAnd when she had convinced herself that this was so, she stepped\nforward, and, full of wrath over the quarrels and feuds Parsley's beauty\ngave rise to, she cursed the girl and said, 'I wish you were an ugly\ntoad, sitting under a bridge at the other end of the world.'\n\nHardly were the words out of her mouth than Parsley was changed into a\ntoad and vanished from their sight. The Princes, now that the cause of\ntheir dispute was removed, put up their swords, kissed each other\naffectionately, and returned to their father.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe King was growing old and feeble, and wished to yield his sceptre and\ncrown in favour of one of his sons, but he couldn't make up his mind\nwhich of the three he should appoint as his successor. He determined\nthat fate should decide for him. So he called his three children to him\nand said, 'My dear sons, I am growing old, and am weary of reigning, but\nI can't make up my mind to which of you three I should yield my crown,\nfor I love you all equally. At the same time I would like the best and\ncleverest of you to rule over my people. I have, therefore, determined\nto set you three tasks to do, and the one that performs them best shall\nbe my heir. The first thing I shall ask you to do is to bring me a piece\nof linen a hundred yards long, so fine that it will go through a gold\nring.' The sons bowed low, and, promising to do their best, they started\non their journey without further delay.\n\nThe two elder brothers took many servants and carriages with them, but\nthe youngest set out quite alone. In a short time they came to three\ncross roads; two of them were gay and crowded, but the third was dark\nand lonely.\n\nThe two elder brothers chose the more frequented ways, but the youngest,\nbidding them farewell, set out on the dreary road.\n\nWherever fine linen was to be bought, there the two elder brothers\nhastened. They loaded their carriages with bales of the finest linen\nthey could find and then returned home.\n\nThe youngest brother, on the other hand, went on his weary way for many\ndays, and nowhere did he come across any linen that would have done. So\nhe journeyed on, and his spirits sank with every step. At last he came\nto a bridge which stretched over a deep river flowing through a flat and\nmarshy land. Before crossing the bridge he sat down on the banks of the\nstream and sighed dismally over his sad fate. Suddenly a misshapen toad\ncrawled out of the swamp, and, sitting down opposite him, asked: 'What's\nthe matter with you, my dear Prince?'\n\nThe Prince answered impatiently, 'There's not much good my telling you,\nPuddocky, for you couldn't help me if I did.'\n\n'Don't be too sure of that,' replied the toad; 'tell me your trouble and\nwe'll see.'\n\nThen the Prince became most confidential and told the little creature\nwhy he had been sent out of his father's kingdom.\n\n'Prince, I will certainly help you,' said the toad, and, crawling back\ninto her swamp, she returned dragging after her a piece of linen not\nbigger than a finger, which she lay before the Prince, saying, 'Take\nthis home, and you'll see it will help you.'\n\nThe Prince had no wish to take such an insignificant bundle with him;\nbut he didn't like to hurt Puddocky's feelings by refusing it, so he\ntook up the little packet, put it in his pocket, and bade the little\ntoad farewell. Puddocky watched the Prince till he was out of sight and\nthen crept back into the water.\n\nThe further the Prince went the more he noticed that the pocket in which\nthe little roll of linen lay became heavier, and in proportion his heart\ngrew lighter. And so, greatly comforted, he returned to the Court of his\nfather, and arrived home just at the same time as his brothers with\ntheir caravans. The King was delighted to see them all again, and at\nonce drew the ring from his finger and the trial began. In all the\nwaggon-loads there was not one piece of linen the tenth part of which\nwould go through the ring, and the two elder brothers, who had at first\nsneered at their youngest brother for returning with no baggage, began\nto feel rather small. But what were their feelings when he drew a bale\nof linen out of his pocket which in fineness, softness, and purity of\ncolour was unsurpassable! The threads were hardly visible, and it went\nthrough the ring without the smallest difficulty, at the same time\nmeasuring a hundred yards quite correctly.\n\nThe father embraced his fortunate son, and commanded the rest of the\nlinen to be thrown into the water; then, turning to his children he\nsaid, 'Now, dear Princes, prepare yourselves for the second task. You\nmust bring me back a little dog that will go comfortably into a\nwalnut-shell.'\n\nThe sons were all in despair over this demand, but as they each wished\nto win the crown, they determined to do their best, and after a very few\ndays set out on their travels again.\n\nAt the cross roads they separated once more. The youngest went by\nhimself along his lonely way, but this time he felt much more cheerful.\nHardly had he sat down under the bridge and heaved a sigh, than Puddocky\ncame out; and, sitting down opposite him, asked, 'What's wrong with you\nnow, dear Prince?'\n\nThe Prince, who this time never doubted the little toad's power to help\nhim, told her his difficulty at once. 'Prince, I will help you,' said\nthe toad again, and crawled back into her swamp as fast as her short\nlittle legs would carry her. She returned, dragging a hazel-nut behind\nher, which she laid at the Prince's feet and said, 'Take this nut home\nwith you and tell your father to crack it very carefully, and you'll see\nthen what will happen.' The Prince thanked her heartily and went on his\nway in the best of spirits while the little puddock crept slowly back\ninto the water.\n\nWhen the Prince got home he found his brothers had just arrived with\ngreat waggon-loads of little dogs of all sorts. The King had a walnut\nshell ready, and the trial began; but not one of the dogs the two\neldest sons had brought with them would in the least fit into the shell.\nWhen they had tried all their little dogs, the youngest son handed his\nfather the hazel-nut, with a modest bow, and begged him to crack it\ncarefully. Hardly had the old King done so than a lovely tiny dog sprang\nout of the nutshell, and ran about on the King's hand, wagging its tail\nand barking lustily at all the other little dogs. The joy of the Court\nwas great. The father again embraced his fortunate son, commanded the\nrest of the small dogs to be thrown into the water and drowned, and once\nmore addressed his sons. 'The two most difficult tasks have been\nperformed. Now listen to the third and last: whoever brings the fairest\nwife home with him shall be my heir.'\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThis demand seemed so easy and agreeable and the reward was so great,\nthat the Princes lost no time in setting forth on their travels. At the\ncross roads the two elder brothers debated if they should go the same\nway as the youngest, but when they saw how dreary and deserted it looked\nthey made up their minds that it would be impossible to find what they\nsought in these wilds, and so they stuck to their former paths.\n\nThe youngest was very depressed this time and said to himself, 'Anything\nelse Puddocky could have helped me in, but this task is quite beyond her\npower. How could she ever find a beautiful wife for me? Her swamps are\nwide and empty, and no human beings dwell there; only frogs and toads\nand other creatures of that sort.' However, he sat down as usual under\nthe bridge, and this time he sighed from the bottom of his heart.\n\nIn a few minutes the toad stood in front of him and asked, 'What's the\nmatter with you now, my dear Prince?'\n\n'Oh, Puddocky, this time you can't help me, for the task is beyond even\nyour power,' replied the Prince.\n\n'Still,' answered the toad, 'you may as well tell me your difficulty,\nfor who knows but I mayn't be able to help you this time also.'\n\nThe Prince then told her the task they had been set to do. 'I'll help\nyou right enough, my dear Prince,' said the little toad; 'just you go\nhome, and I'll soon follow you.' With these words, Puddocky, with a\nspring quite unlike her usual slow movements, jumped into the water and\ndisappeared.\n\nThe Prince rose up and went sadly on his way, for he didn't believe it\npossible that the little toad could really help him in his present\ndifficulty. He had hardly gone a few steps when he heard a sound behind\nhim, and, looking round, he saw a carriage made of cardboard, drawn by\nsix big rats, coming towards him. Two hedgehogs rode in front as\noutriders, and on the box sat a fat mouse as coachman, and behind stood\ntwo little frogs as footmen. In the carriage itself sat Puddocky, who\nkissed her hand to the Prince out of the window as she passed by.\n\nSunk deep in thought over the fickleness of fortune that had granted him\ntwo of his wishes and now seemed about to deny him the last and best,\nthe Prince hardly noticed the absurd equipage, and still less did he\nfeel inclined to laugh at its comic appearance.\n\nThe carriage drove on in front of him for some time and then turned a\ncorner. But what was his joy and surprise when suddenly, round the same\ncorner, but coming towards him, there appeared a beautiful coach drawn\nby six splendid horses, with outriders, coachmen, footmen and other\nservants all in the most gorgeous liveries, and seated in the carriage\nwas the most beautiful woman the Prince had ever seen, and in whom he at\nonce recognised the beautiful Parsley, for whom his heart had formerly\nburned. The carriage stopped when it reached him, and the footmen sprang\ndown and opened the door for him. He got in and sat down beside the\nbeautiful Parsley, and thanked her heartily for her help, and told her\nhow much he loved her.\n\nAnd so he arrived at his father's capital, at the same moment as his\nbrothers who had returned with many carriage-loads of beautiful women.\nBut when they were all led before the King, the whole Court with one\nconsent awarded the prize of beauty to the fair Parsley.\n\nThe old King was delighted, and embraced his thrice fortunate son and\nhis new daughter-in-law tenderly, and appointed them as his successors\nto the throne. But he commanded the other women to be thrown into the\nwater and drowned, like the bales of linen and the little dogs. The\nPrince married Puddocky and reigned long and happily with her, and if\nthey aren't dead I suppose they are living still.\n\n\n\n\n _THE STORY OF HOK LEE AND THE DWARFS_\n\n\nThere once lived in a small town in China a man named Hok Lee. He was a\nsteady industrious man, who not only worked hard at his trade, but did\nall his own house-work as well, for he had no wife to do it for him.\n'What an excellent industrious man is this Hok Lee!' said his\nneighbours; 'how hard he works: he never leaves his house to amuse\nhimself or to take a holiday as others do!'\n\nBut Hok Lee was by no means the virtuous person his neighbours thought\nhim. True, he worked hard enough by day, but at night, when all\nrespectable folk were fast asleep, he used to steal out and join a\ndangerous band of robbers, who broke into rich people's houses and\ncarried off all they could lay hands on.\n\nThis state of things went on for some time, and, though a thief was\ncaught now and then and punished, no suspicion ever fell on Hok Lee, he\nwas such a _very_ respectable, hard-working man.\n\nHok Lee had already amassed a good store of money as his share of the\nproceeds of these robberies when it happened one morning on going to\nmarket that a neighbour said to him:\n\n'Why, Hok Lee, what is the matter with your face? One side of it is all\nswelled up.'\n\nTrue enough, Hok Lee's right cheek was twice the size of his left, and\nit soon began to feel very uncomfortable.\n\n'I will bind up my face,' said Hok Lee; 'doubtless the warmth will cure\nthe swelling.' But no such thing. Next day it was worse, and day by day\nit grew bigger and bigger till it was nearly as large as his head and\nbecame very painful.\n\nHok Lee was at his wits' ends what to do. Not only was his cheek\nunsightly and painful, but his neighbours began to jeer and make fun of\nhim, which hurt his feelings very much indeed.\n\nOne day, as luck would have it, a travelling doctor came to the town. He\nsold not only all kinds of medicine, but also dealt in many strange\ncharms against witches and evil spirits.\n\nHok Lee determined to consult him, and asked him into his house.\n\nAfter the doctor had examined him carefully, he spoke thus: 'This, O Hok\nLee, is no ordinary swelled face. I strongly suspect you have been doing\nsome wrong deed which has called down the anger of the spirits on you.\nNone of my drugs will avail to cure you, but, if you are willing to pay\nme handsomely, I can tell you how you may be cured.'\n\nThen Hok Lee and the doctor began to bargain together, and it was a long\ntime before they could come to terms. However, the doctor got the better\nof it in the end, for he was determined not to part with his secret\nunder a certain price, and Hok Lee had no mind to carry his huge cheek\nabout with him to the end of his days. So he was obliged to part with\nthe greater portion of his ill-gotten gains.\n\nWhen the Doctor had pocketed the money, he told Hok Lee to go on the\nfirst night of the full moon to a certain wood and there to watch by a\nparticular tree. After a time he would see the dwarfs and little sprites\nwho live underground come out to dance. When they saw him they would be\nsure to make him dance too. 'And mind you dance your very best,' added\nthe doctor. 'If you dance well and please them they will grant you a\npetition and you can then beg to be cured; but if you dance badly they\nwill most likely do you some mischief out of spite.' With that he took\nleave and departed.\n\nHappily the first night of the full moon was near, and at the proper\ntime Hok Lee set out for the wood. With a little trouble he found the\ntree the doctor had described, and, feeling nervous, he climbed up into\nit.\n\nHe had hardly settled himself on a branch when he saw the little dwarfs\nassembling in the moonlight. They came from all sides, till at length\nthere appeared to be hundreds of them. They seemed in high glee, and\ndanced and skipped and capered about, whilst Hok Lee grew so eager\nwatching them that he crept further and further along his branch till at\nlength it gave a loud crack. All the dwarfs stood still, and Hok Lee\nfelt as if his heart stood still also.\n\nThen one of the dwarfs called out, 'Someone is up in that tree. Come\ndown at once, whoever you are, or we must come and fetch you.'\n\nIn great terror, Hok Lee proceeded to come down; but he was so nervous\nthat he tripped near the ground and came rolling down in the most absurd\nmanner. When he had picked himself up, he came forward with a low bow,\nand the dwarf who had first spoken and who appeared to be the leader,\nsaid, 'Now, then, who art thou, and what brings thee here?'\n\nSo Hok Lee told him the sad story of his swelled cheek, and how he had\nbeen advised to come to the forest and beg the dwarfs to cure him.\n\n'It is well,' replied the dwarf. 'We will see about that. First,\nhowever, thou must dance before us. Should thy dancing please us,\nperhaps we may be able to do something; but shouldst thou dance badly,\nwe shall assuredly punish thee, so now take warning and dance away.'\n\nWith that, he and all the other dwarfs sat down in a large ring, leaving\nHok Lee to dance alone in the middle. He felt half frightened to death,\nand besides was a good deal shaken by his fall from the tree and did not\nfeel at all inclined to dance. But the dwarfs were not to be trifled\nwith.\n\n'Begin!' cried their leader, and 'Begin!' shouted the rest in chorus.\n\nSo in despair Hok Lee began. First he hopped on one foot and then on the\nother, but he was so stiff and so nervous that he made but a poor\nattempt, and after a time sank down on the ground and vowed he could\ndance no more.\n\nThe dwarfs were very angry. They crowded round Hok Lee and abused him.\n'Thou to come here to be cured, indeed!' they cried, 'thou hast brought\none big cheek with thee, but thou shalt take away two.' And with that\nthey ran off and disappeared, leaving Hok Lee to find his way home as\nbest he might.\n\nHe hobbled away, weary and depressed, and not a little anxious on\naccount of the dwarfs' threat.\n\nNor were his fears unfounded, for when he rose next morning his left\ncheek was swelled up as big as his right, and he could hardly see out of\nhis eyes. Hok Lee felt in despair, and his neighbours jeered at him more\nthan ever. The doctor, too, had disappeared, so there was nothing for it\nbut to try the dwarfs once more.\n\nHe waited a month till the first night of the full moon came round\nagain, and then he trudged back to the forest, and sat down under the\ntree from which he had fallen. He had not long to wait. Ere long the\ndwarfs came trooping out till all were assembled.\n\n'I don't feel quite easy,' said one; 'I feel as if some horrid human\nbeing were near us.'\n\nWhen Hok Lee heard this he came forward and bent down to the ground\nbefore the dwarfs, who came crowding round, and laughed heartily at his\ncomical appearance with his two big cheeks.\n\n'What dost thou want?' they asked; and Hok Lee proceeded to tell them of\nhis fresh misfortunes, and begged so hard to be allowed one more trial\nat dancing that the dwarfs consented, for there is nothing they love so\nmuch as being amused.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nNow, Hok Lee knew how much depended on his dancing well, so he plucked\nup a good spirit and began, first quite slowly, and faster by degrees,\nand he danced so well and gracefully, and made such new and wonderful\nsteps, that the dwarfs were quite delighted with him.\n\nThey clapped their tiny hands, and shouted, 'Well done, Hok Lee, well\ndone; go on, dance more, for we are pleased.'\n\nAnd Hok Lee danced on and on, till he really could dance no more, and\nwas obliged to stop.\n\nThen the leader of the dwarfs said, 'We are well pleased, Hok Lee, and\nas a recompense for thy dancing thy face shall be cured. Farewell.'\n\nWith these words he and the other dwarfs vanished, and Hok Lee, putting\nhis hands to his face, found to his great joy that his cheeks were\nreduced to their natural size. The way home seemed short and easy to\nhim, and he went to bed happy, and resolved never to go out robbing\nagain.\n\nNext day the whole town was full of the news of Hok's sudden cure. His\nneighbours questioned him, but could get nothing from him, except the\nfact that he had discovered a wonderful cure for all kinds of diseases.\n\nAfter a time a rich neighbour, who had been ill for some years, came,\nand offered to give Hok Lee a large sum of money if he would tell him\nhow he might get cured. Hok Lee consented on condition that he swore to\nkeep the secret. He did so, and Hok Lee told him of the dwarfs and their\ndances.\n\nThe neighbour went off, carefully obeyed Hok Lee's directions, and was\nduly cured by the dwarfs. Then another and another came to Hok Lee to\nbeg his secret, and from each he extracted a vow of secrecy and a large\nsum of money. This went on for some years, so that at length Hok Lee\nbecame a very wealthy man, and ended his days in peace and prosperity.\n\n From the Chinese.\n\n\n\n\n _THE STORY OF THE THREE BEARS_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there were Three Bears, who lived together in a house\nof their own in a wood. One of them was a Little, Small, Wee Bear; and\none was a Middle-sized Bear, and the other was a Great, Huge Bear. They\nhad each a pot for their porridge, a little pot for the Little, Small,\nWee Bear; and a middle-sized pot for the Middle Bear; and a great pot\nfor the Great, Huge Bear. And they had each a chair to sit in; a little\nchair for the Little, Small, Wee Bear; and a middle-sized chair for the\nMiddle Bear; and a great chair for the Great, Huge Bear. And they had\neach a bed to sleep in; a little bed for the Little, Small, Wee Bear;\nand a middle-sized bed for the Middle Bear; and a great bed for the\nGreat, Huge Bear.\n\nOne day, after they had made the porridge for their breakfast, and\npoured it into their porridge-pots, they walked out into the wood while\nthe porridge was cooling, that they might not burn their mouths by\nbeginning too soon to eat it. And while they were walking, a little old\nwoman came to the house. She could not have been a good, honest old\nwoman; for, first, she looked in at the window, and then she peeped in\nat the keyhole; and, seeing nobody in the house, she lifted the latch.\nThe door was not fastened, because the bears were good bears, who did\nnobody any harm, and never suspected that anybody would harm them. So\nthe little old woman opened the door and went in; and well pleased she\nwas when she saw the porridge on the table. If she had been a good\nlittle old woman she would have waited till the bears came home, and\nthen, perhaps, they would have asked her to breakfast; for they were\ngood bears--a little rough or so, as the manner of bears is, but for all\nthat very good-natured and hospitable. But she was an impudent, bad old\nwoman, and set about helping herself.\n\nSo first she tasted the porridge of the Great, Huge Bear, and that was\ntoo hot for her; and she said a bad word about that. And then she tasted\nthe porridge of the Middle Bear; and that was too cold for her; and she\nsaid a bad word about that too. And then she went to the porridge of the\nLittle, Small, Wee Bear, and tasted that; and that was neither too hot\nnor too cold, but just right; and she liked it so well, that she ate it\nall up: but the naughty old woman said a bad word about the little\nporridge-pot, because it did not hold enough for her.\n\nThen the little old woman sate down in the chair of the Great, Huge\nBear, and that was too hard for her. And then she sate down in the chair\nof the Middle Bear, and that was too soft for her. And then she sate\ndown in the chair of the Little, Small, Wee Bear, and that was neither\ntoo hard nor too soft, but just right. So she seated herself in it, and\nthere she sate till the bottom of the chair came out, and down came she,\nplump upon the ground. And the naughty old woman said a wicked word\nabout that too.\n\nThen the little old woman went up stairs into the bed-chamber in which\nthe three bears slept. And first she lay down upon the bed of the Great,\nHugh Bear; but that was too high at the head for her. And next she lay\ndown upon the bed of the Middle Bear; and that was too high at the foot\nfor her. And then she lay down upon the bed of the Little, Small, Wee\nBear; and that was neither too high at the head, nor at the foot, but\njust right. So she covered herself up comfortably, and lay there till\nshe fell fast asleep.\n\nBy this time the three bears thought their porridge would be cool\nenough; so they came home to breakfast. Now the little old woman had\nleft the spoon of the Great, Huge Bear, standing in his porridge.\n\n 'SOMEBODY HAS BEEN AT MY PORRIDGE!'\n\nsaid the Great, Huge Bear, in his great gruff voice. And when the Middle\nBear looked at his, he saw that the spoon was standing in it too. They\nwere wooden spoons; if they had been silver ones, the naughty old woman\nwould have put them in her pocket.\n\n 'Somebody Has Been At My Porridge!'\n\nsaid the Middle Bear, in his middle voice.\n\nThen the Little, Small, Wee Bear looked at his, and there was the spoon\nin the porridge-pot, but the porridge was all gone.\n\n '_Somebody has been at my porridge, and has eaten it all up!_'\n\nsaid the Little, Small Wee Bear, in his little, small wee voice.\n\nUpon this the three bears, seeing that some one had entered their house,\nand eaten up the Little, Small Wee Bear's breakfast, began to look about\nthem. Now the little old woman had not put the hard cushion straight\nwhen she rose from the chair of the Great, Huge Bear.\n\n 'SOMEBODY HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY CHAIR!'\n\nsaid the Great, Huge Bear, in his great, rough, gruff voice.\n\nAnd the little old woman had squatted down the soft cushion of the\nMiddle Bear.\n\n 'Somebody Has Been Sitting In My Chair!'\n\nsaid the Middle Bear, in his middle voice.\n\nAnd you know what the little old woman had done to the third chair.\n\n '_Somebody has been sitting in my chair, and has sate the bottom\n of it out!_'\n\nsaid the Little, Small, Wee Bear, in his little, small, wee voice.\n\nThen the three bears thought it necessary that they should make farther\nsearch; so they went up stairs into their bed-chamber. Now the little\nold woman had pulled the pillow of the Great, Huge Bear out of its\nplace.\n\n 'SOMEBODY HAS BEEN LYING IN MY BED!'\n\nsaid the Great, Huge Bear, in his great, rough, gruff voice.\n\nAnd the little old woman had pulled the bolster of the Middle Bear out\nof its place.\n\n 'Somebody Has Been Lying In My Bed!'\n\nsaid the Middle Bear in his middle voice.\n\nAnd when the Little, Small, Wee Bear came to look at his bed, there was\nthe bolster in its place, and the pillow in its place upon the bolster,\nand upon the pillow was the little old woman's ugly, dirty head,--which\nwas not in its place, for she had no business there.\n\n '_Somebody has been lying in my bed,--and here she is!_'\n\nsaid the Little, Small, Wee Bear, in his little, small, wee voice.\n\nThe little old woman had heard in her sleep the great, rough, gruff\nvoice of the Great, Huge Bear; but she was so fast asleep that it was no\nmore to her than the roaring of wind or the rumbling of thunder. And she\nhad heard the middle voice of the Middle Bear, but it was only as if she\nhad heard someone speaking in a dream. But when she heard the little,\nsmall, wee voice of the Little, Small, Wee Bear, it was so sharp, and so\nshrill, that it awakened her at once. Up she started; and when she saw\nthe Three Bears on one side of the bed, she tumbled herself out at the\nother, and ran to the window. Now the window was open, because the\nbears, like good, tidy bears as they were, always opened their\nbed-chamber window when they got up in the morning. Out the little old\nwoman jumped; and whether she broke her neck in the fall, or ran into\nthe wood and was lost there, or found her way out of the wood and was\ntaken up by the constable and sent to the House of Correction for a\nvagrant as she was, I cannot tell. But the Three Bears never saw\nanything more of her.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n Southey.\n\n\n\n\n _PRINCE VIVIEN AND THE PRINCESS PLACIDA_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a King and Queen who loved one another\ndearly. Indeed the Queen, whose name was Santorina, was so pretty and so\nkind-hearted that it would have been a wonder if her husband had not\nbeen fond of her, while King Gridelin himself was a perfect bundle of\ngood qualities, for the Fairy who presided at his christening had\nsummoned the shades of all his ancestors, and taken something good from\neach of them to form his character. Unfortunately, though, she had given\nhim rather too much kindness of heart, which is a thing that generally\ngets its possessor into trouble, but so far all things had prospered\nwith King Gridelin. However, it was not to be expected such good fortune\ncould last, and before very long the Queen had a lovely little daughter\nwho was named Placida. Now the King, who thought that if she resembled\nher mother in face and mind she would need no other gift, never troubled\nto ask any of the Fairies to her christening, and this offended them\nmortally, so that they resolved to punish him severely for thus\ndepriving them of their rights. So, to the despair of King Gridelin, the\nQueen first of all became very ill, and then disappeared altogether. If\nit had not been for the little Princess there is no saying what would\nhave become of him, he was so miserable, but there she was to be brought\nup, and luckily the good Fairy Lolotte, in spite of all that had passed,\nwas willing to come and take charge of her, and of her little cousin\nPrince Vivien, who was an orphan and had been placed under the care of\nhis uncle, King Gridelin, when he was quite a baby. Although she\nneglected nothing that could possibly have been done for them, their\ncharacters, as they grew up, plainly proved that education only softens\ndown natural defects, but cannot entirely do away with them; for\nPlacida, who was perfectly lovely, and with a capacity and intelligence\nwhich enabled her to learn and understand anything that presented\nitself, was at the same time as lazy and indifferent as it is possible\nfor anyone to be, while Vivien on the contrary was only too lively, and\nwas for ever taking up some new thing and as promptly tiring of it, and\nflying off to something else which held his fickle fancy an equally\nshort time. As these two children would possibly inherit the kingdom, it\nwas natural that their people should take a great interest in them, and\nit fell out that all the tranquil and peace-loving citizens desired that\nPlacida should one day be their Queen, while the rash and quarrelsome\nhoped great things for Vivien. Such a division of ideas seemed to\npromise civil wars and all kinds of troubles to the State, and even in\nthe Palace the two parties frequently came into collision. As for the\nchildren themselves, though they were too well brought up to quarrel,\nstill the difference in all their tastes and feelings made it impossible\nfor them to like one another, so there seemed no chance of their ever\nconsenting to be married, which was a pity, since that was the only\nthing that would have satisfied both parties. Prince Vivien was fully\naware of the feeling in his favour, but being too honourable to wish to\ninjure his pretty cousin, and perhaps too impatient and volatile to care\nto think seriously about anything, he suddenly took it into his head\nthat he would go off by himself in search of adventure. Luckily this\nidea occurred to him when he was on horseback, for he would certainly\nhave set out on foot rather than lose an instant. As it was, he simply\nturned his horse's head, without another thought than that of getting\nout of the kingdom as soon as possible. This abrupt departure was a\ngreat blow to the State, especially as no one had any idea what had\nbecome of the Prince. Even King Gridelin, who had never cared for\nanything since the disappearance of Queen Santorina, was roused by this\nnew loss, and though he could not so much as look at the Princess\nPlacida without shedding floods of tears, he resolved to see for himself\nwhat talents and capabilities she showed. He very soon found out that in\naddition to her natural indolence, she was being as much indulged and\nspoilt day by day as if the Fairy had been her grandmother, and was\nobliged to remonstrate very seriously upon the subject. Lolotte took his\nreproaches meekly, and promised faithfully that she would not encourage\nthe Princess in her idleness and indifference any more. From this moment\npoor Placida's troubles began! She was actually expected to choose her\nown dresses, to take care of her jewels, and to find her own amusements;\nbut rather than take so much trouble she wore the same old frock from\nmorning till night, and never appeared in public if she could possibly\navoid it. However, this was not all, King Gridelin insisted that the\naffairs of the kingdom should be explained to her, and that she should\nattend all the councils and give her opinion upon the matter in hand\nwhenever it was asked of her, and this made her life such a burden to\nher that she implored Lolotte to take her away from a country where too\nmuch was required of an unhappy Princess.\n\nThe Fairy refused at first with a great show of firmness, but who could\nresist the tears and entreaties of anyone so pretty as Placida? It came\nto this in the end, that she transported the Princess just as she was,\ncosily tucked up upon her favourite couch, to her own Grotto, and this\nnew disappearance left all the people in despair, and Gridelin went\nabout looking more distracted than ever. But now let us return to Prince\nVivien, and see what his restless spirit has brought him to. Though\nPlacida's kingdom was a large one, his horse had carried him gallantly\nto the limit of it, but it could go no further, and the Prince was\nobliged to dismount and continue his journey on foot, though this slow\nmode of progress tired his patience severely.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAfter what seemed to him a very long time, he found himself all alone in\na vast forest, so dark and gloomy that he secretly shuddered; however,\nhe chose the most promising looking path he could find, and marched\nalong it courageously at his best speed, but in spite of all his\nefforts, night fell before he reached the edge of the wood.\n\nFor some time he stumbled along, keeping to the path as well as he could\nin the darkness, and just as he was almost wearied out he saw before\nhim a gleam of light.\n\nThis sight revived his drooping spirits, and he made sure that he was\nnow close to the shelter and supper he needed so much, but the more he\nwalked towards the light the further away it seemed; sometimes he even\nlost sight of it altogether, and you may imagine how provoked and\nimpatient he was by the time he finally arrived at the miserable cottage\nfrom which the light proceeded. He gave a loud knock at the door, and an\nold woman's voice answered from within, but as she did not seem to be\nhurrying herself to open it he redoubled his blows, and demanded to be\nlet in imperiously, quite forgetting that he was no longer in his own\nkingdom. But all this had no effect upon the old woman, who only noticed\nall the uproar he was making by saying gently:\n\n'You must have patience.'\n\nHe could hear that she really was coming to open the door to him, only\nshe was so very long about it. First she chased away her cat, lest it\nshould run away when the door was opened, then he heard her talking to\nherself and made out that her lamp wanted trimming, that she might see\nbetter who it was that knocked, and then that it lacked fresh oil, and\nshe must refill it. So what with one thing and another she was an\nimmense time trotting to and fro, and all the while she now and again\nbade the Prince have patience. When at last he stood within the little\nhut he saw with despair that it was a picture of poverty, and that not a\ncrumb of anything eatable was to be seen, and when he explained to the\nold woman that he was dying of hunger and fatigue she only answered\ntranquilly that he must have patience. However, she presently showed him\na bundle of straw on which he could sleep.\n\n'But what can I have to eat?' cried Prince Vivien sharply.\n\n'Wait a little, wait a little,' she replied. 'If you will only have\npatience I am just going out into the garden to gather some peas: we\nwill shell them at our leisure, then I will light a fire and cook them,\nand when they are thoroughly done, we can enjoy them peaceably; there is\nno hurry.'\n\n'I shall have died of starvation by the time all that is done,' said the\nPrince ruefully.\n\n'Patience, patience,' said the old woman looking at him with her slow\ngentle smile, 'I can't be hurried. \"All things come at last to him who\nwaits;\" you must have heard that often.'\n\nPrince Vivien was wild with aggravation, but there was nothing to be\ndone.\n\n'Come then,' said the old woman, 'you shall hold the lamp to light me\nwhile I pick the peas.'\n\nThe Prince in his haste snatched it up so quickly that it went out, and\nit took him a long time to light it again with two little bits of\nglowing charcoal which he had to dig out from the pile of ashes upon the\nhearth. However, at last the peas were gathered and shelled, and the\nfire lighted, but then they had to be carefully counted, since the old\nwoman declared that she would cook fifty-four, and no more. In vain did\nthe Prince represent to her that he was famished--that fifty-four peas\nwould go no way towards satisfying his hunger--that a few peas, more or\nless, surely could not matter. It was quite useless, in the end he had\nto count out the fifty-four, and worse than that, because he dropped one\nor two in his hurry, he had to begin again from the very first, to be\nsure the number was complete. As soon as they were cooked the old dame\ntook a pair of scales and a morsel of bread from the cupboard, and was\njust about to divide it when Prince Vivien, who really could wait no\nlonger, seized the whole piece and ate it up, saying in his turn,\n'Patience.'\n\n'You mean that for a joke,' said the old woman, as gently as ever, 'but\nthat is really my name, and some day you will know more about me.'\n\nThen they each ate their twenty-seven peas, and the Prince was surprised\nto find that he wanted nothing more, and he slept as sweetly upon his\nbed of straw as he had ever done in his palace.\n\nIn the morning the old woman gave him milk and bread for his breakfast,\nwhich he ate contentedly, rejoicing that there was nothing to be\ngathered, or counted, or cooked, and when he had finished he begged her\nto tell him who she was.\n\n'That I will, with pleasure,' she replied. 'But it will be a long\nstory.'\n\n'Oh! if it's long, I can't listen,' cried the Prince.\n\n'But,' said she, 'at your age, you should attend to what old people say,\nand learn to have patience.'\n\n'But, but,' said the Prince, in his most impatient tone, 'old people\nshould not be so long-winded! Tell me what country I have got into, and\nnothing else.'\n\n'With all my heart,' said she. 'You are in the Forest of the Black Bird;\nit is here that he utters his oracles.'\n\n'An Oracle,' cried the Prince. 'Oh! I must go and consult him.'\nThereupon he drew a handful of gold from his pocket, and offered it to\nthe old woman, and when she would not take it, he threw it down upon the\ntable and was off like a flash of lightning, without even staying to ask\nthe way. He took the first path that presented itself and followed it at\nthe top of his speed, often losing his way, or stumbling over some\nstone, or running up against a tree, and leaving behind him without\nregret the cottage which had been as little to his taste as the\ncharacter of its possessor. After some time he saw in the distance a\nhuge black castle which commanded a view of the whole forest. The Prince\nfelt certain that this must be the abode of the Oracle, and just as the\nsun was setting he reached its outermost gates. The whole castle was\nsurrounded by a deep moat, and the drawbridge and the gates, and even\nthe water in the moat, were all of the same sombre hue as the walls and\ntowers. Upon the gate hung a huge bell, upon which was written in red\nletters:\n\n'Mortal, if thou art curious to know thy fate, strike this bell, and\nsubmit to what shall befall thee.'\n\nThe Prince, without the smallest hesitation, snatched up a great stone,\nand hammered vigorously upon the bell, which gave forth a deep and\nterrible sound, the gate flew open, and closed again with a thundering\nclang the moment the Prince had passed through it, while from every\ntower and battlement rose a wheeling, screaming crowd of bats which\ndarkened the whole sky with their multitudes. Anyone but Prince Vivien\nwould have been terrified by such an uncanny sight, but he strode\nstoutly forward till he reached the second gate, which was opened to him\nby sixty black slaves covered from head to foot in long mantles.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nHe wished to speak to them, but soon discovered that they spoke an\nutterly unknown language, and did not seem to understand a word he said.\nThis was a great aggravation to the Prince, who was not accustomed to\nkeep his ideas to himself, and he positively found himself wishing for\nhis old friend Patience. However, he had to follow his guides in\nsilence, and they led him into a magnificent hall; the floor was of\nebony, the walls of jet, and all the hangings were of black velvet, but\nthe Prince looked round it in vain for something to eat, and then made\nsigns that he was hungry. In the same manner he was respectfully given\nto understand that he must wait, and after several hours the sixty\nhooded and shrouded figures re-appeared, and conducted him with great\nceremony, and also very very slowly, to a banqueting hall, where they\nall placed themselves at a long table. The dishes were arranged down the\ncentre of it, and with his usual impetuosity the Prince seized the one\nthat stood in front of him to draw it nearer, but soon found that it was\nfirmly fixed in its place. Then he looked at his solemn and lugubrious\nneighbours, and saw that each one was supplied with a long hollow reed\nthrough which he slowly sucked up his portion, and the Prince was\nobliged to do the same, though he found it a frightfully tedious\nprocess. After supper, they returned as they had come to the ebony room,\nwhere he was compelled to look on while his companions played\ninterminable games of chess, and not until he was nearly dying of\nweariness did they, slowly and ceremoniously as before, conduct him to\nhis sleeping apartment. The hope of consulting the Oracle woke him very\nearly the next morning, and his first demand was to be allowed to\npresent himself before it, but, without replying, his attendants\nconducted him to a huge marble bath, very shallow at one end, and quite\ndeep at the other, and gave him to understand that he was to go into it.\nThe Prince, nothing loth, was for springing at once into deep water, but\nhe was gently but forcibly held back and only allowed to stand where it\nwas about an inch deep, and he was nearly wild with impatience when he\nfound that this process was to be repeated every day in spite of all he\ncould say or do, the water rising higher and higher by inches, so that\nfor sixty days he had to live in perpetual silence, ceremoniously\nconducted to and fro, supping all his meals through the long reed, and\nlooking on at innumerable games of chess, the game of all others which\nhe detested most. But at last the water rose as high as his chin, and\nhis bath was complete. And that day the slaves in their black robes, and\neach having a large bat perched upon his head, marched in slow\nprocession with the Prince in their midst, chanting a melancholy song,\nto the iron gate that led into a kind of Temple. At the sound of their\nchanting, another band of slaves appeared, and took possession of the\nunhappy Vivien.\n\nThey looked to him exactly like the ones he had left, except that they\nmoved more slowly still, and each one held a raven upon his wrist, and\ntheir harsh croakings re-echoed through the dismal place. Holding the\nPrince by the arms, not so much to do him honour as to restrain his\nimpatience, they proceeded by slow degrees up the steps of the Temple,\nand when they at last reached the top he thought his long waiting must\nbe at an end. But on the contrary, after slowly enshrouding him in a\nlong black robe like their own, they led him into the Temple itself,\nwhere he was forced to witness numbers of lengthy rites and ceremonies.\nBy this time Vivien's active impatience had subsided into passive\nweariness, his yawns were continual and scandalous, but nobody heeded\nhim, he stared hopelessly at the thick black curtain which hung down\nstraight in front of him, and could hardly believe his eyes when it\npresently began to slide back, and he saw before him the Black Bird. It\nwas of enormous size, and was perched upon a thick bar of iron which ran\nacross from one side of the Temple to the other. At the sight of it all\nthe slaves fell upon their knees and hid their faces, and when it had\nthree times flapped its mighty wings it uttered distinctly in Prince\nVivien's own language the words:\n\n'Prince, your only chance of happiness depends upon that which is most\nopposed to your own nature.'\n\nThen the curtain fell before it once more, and the Prince, after many\nceremonies, was presented with a raven which perched upon his wrist, and\nwas conducted slowly back to the iron gate. Here the raven left him and\nhe was handed over once more to the care of the first band of slaves,\nwhile a large bat flickered down and settled upon his head of its own\naccord, and so he was taken back to the marble bath, and had to go\nthrough the whole process again, only this time he began in deep water\nwhich receded daily inch by inch. When this was over the slaves escorted\nhim to the outer gate, and took leave of him with every mark of esteem\nand politeness, to which it is to be feared he responded but\nindifferently, since the gate was no sooner opened than he took to his\nheels, and fled away with all his might, his one idea being to put as\nmuch space as possible between himself and the dreary place into which\nhe had ventured so rashly, just to consult a tedious Oracle who after\nall had told him nothing. He actually reflected for about five seconds\non his folly, and came to the conclusion that it might sometimes be\nadvisable to think before one acted.\n\nAfter wandering about for several days until he was weary and hungry, he\nat last succeeded in finding a way out of the forest, and soon came to a\nwide and rapid river, which he followed, hoping to find some means of\ncrossing it, and it happened that as the sun rose the next morning he\nsaw something of a dazzling whiteness moored out in the middle of the\nstream. Upon looking more attentively at it he found that it was one of\nthe prettiest little ships he had ever seen, and the boat that belonged\nto it was made fast to the bank quite close to him. The Prince was\nimmediately seized with the most ardent desire to go on board the ship,\nand shouted loudly to attract the notice of her crew, but no one\nanswered. So he sprang into the little boat and rowed away without\nfinding it at all hard work, for the boat was made all of white paper\nand was as light as a rose leaf. The ship was made of white paper too,\nas the Prince presently discovered when he reached it. He found not a\nsoul on board, but there was a very cosy little bed in the cabin, and an\nample supply of all sorts of good things to eat and drink, which he made\nup his mind to enjoy until something new happened. Having been\nthoroughly well brought up at the court of King Gridelin, of course he\nunderstood the art of navigation, but when once he had started, the\ncurrent carried the vessel down at such a pace that before he knew where\nhe was the Prince found himself out at sea, and a wind springing up\nbehind him just at this moment soon drove him out of sight of land. By\nthis time he was somewhat alarmed, and did his best to put the ship\nabout and get back to the river, but wind and tide were too strong for\nhim, and he began to think of the number of times, from his childhood\nup, that he had been warned not to meddle with water. But it was too\nlate now to do anything but wish vainly that he had stayed on shore, and\nto grow heartily weary of the boat and the sea and everything connected\nwith it. These two things, however, he did most thoroughly. To put the\nfinishing touch to his misfortunes he presently found himself becalmed\nin mid-ocean, a state of affairs which would be considered trying by the\nmost patient of men, so you may imagine how it affected Prince Vivien!\nHe even came to wishing himself back at the Castle of the Black Bird,\nfor there at least he saw some living beings, whereas on board the\nwhite-paper ship he was absolutely alone, and could not imagine how he\nwas ever to get away from his wearisome prison. However, after a very\nlong time, he did see land, and his impatience to be on shore was so\ngreat that he at once flung himself over the ship's side that he might\nreach it sooner by swimming. But this was quite useless, for spring as\nfar as he might from the vessel, it was always under his feet again\nbefore he reached the water, and he had to resign himself to his fate,\nand wait with what patience he could muster until the winds and waves\ncarried the ship into a kind of natural harbour which ran far into the\nland. After his long imprisonment at sea the Prince was delighted with\nthe sight of the great trees which grew down to the very edge of the\nwater, and leaping lightly on shore he speedily lost himself in the\nthick forest. When he had wandered a long way he stopped to rest beside\na clear spring of water, but scarcely had he thrown himself down upon\nthe mossy bank when there was a great rustling in the bushes close by,\nand out sprang a pretty little gazelle panting and exhausted, which fell\nat his feet gasping out--\n\n'Oh! Vivien, save me!'\n\nThe Prince in great astonishment leapt to his feet, and had just time to\ndraw his sword before he found himself face to face with a large green\nlion which had been hotly pursuing the poor little gazelle. Prince\nVivien attacked it gallantly and a fierce combat ensued, which, however,\nended before long in the Prince's dealing his adversary a terrific blow\nwhich felled him to the earth. As he fell the lion whistled loudly\nthree times with such force that the forest rang again, and the sound\nmust have been heard for more than two leagues round, after which having\napparently nothing more to do in the world he rolled over on his side\nand died. The Prince without paying any further heed to him or to his\nwhistling returned to the pretty gazelle, saying:\n\n'Well! are you satisfied now? Since you can talk, pray tell me instantly\nwhat all this is about, and how you happen to know my name.'\n\n'Oh, I must rest for a long time before I can talk,' she replied, 'and\nbeside, I very much doubt if you will have leisure to listen, for the\naffair is by no means finished. In fact,' she continued in the same\nlanguid tone, 'you had better look behind you now.'\n\nThe Prince turned sharply round and to his horror saw a huge Giant\napproaching with mighty strides, crying fiercely--\n\n'Who has made my lion whistle I should like to know?'\n\n'I have,' replied Prince Vivien boldly, 'but I can answer for it that he\nwill not do it again!'\n\nAt these words the Giant began to howl and lament.\n\n'Alas, my poor Tiny, my sweet little pet,' he cried, 'but at least I can\navenge thy death.'\n\nThereupon he rushed at the Prince, brandishing an immense serpent which\nwas coiled about his wrist. Vivien, without losing his coolness, aimed a\nterrific blow at it with his sword, but no sooner did he touch the snake\nthan it changed into a Giant and the Giant into a snake, with such\nrapidity that the Prince felt perfectly giddy, and this happened at\nleast half-a-dozen times, until at last with a fortunate stroke he cut\nthe serpent in halves, and picking up one morsel flung it with all his\nforce at the nose of the Giant, who fell insensible on top of the lion,\nand in an instant a thick black cloud rolled up which hid them from\nview, and when it cleared away they had all disappeared.\n\nThen the Prince, without even waiting to sheathe his sword, rushed back\nto the gazelle, crying:\n\n'Now you have had plenty of time to recover your wits, and you have\nnothing more to fear, so tell me who you are, and what this horrible\nGiant, with his lion and his serpent, have to do with you, and for\npity's sake be quick about it.'\n\n[Illustration]\n\n'I will tell you with pleasure,' she answered, 'but where is the hurry?\nI want you to come back with me to the Green Castle, but I don't want to\nwalk there, it is so far, and walking is so fatiguing.'\n\n'Let us set out at once then,' replied the Prince severely, 'or else\nreally I shall have to leave you where you are. Surely a young and\nactive gazelle like you ought to be ashamed of not being able to walk a\nfew steps. The further off this castle is the faster we ought to walk,\nbut as you don't appear to enjoy that, I will promise that we will go\ngently, and we can talk by the way.'\n\n[Illustration]\n\n'It would be better still if you would carry me,' said she sweetly, 'but\nas I don't like to see people giving themselves trouble, you may carry\nme, and make that snail carry you.' So saying, she pointed languidly\nwith one tiny foot at what the Prince had taken for a block of stone,\nbut now he saw that it was a huge snail.\n\n'What! I ride a snail!' cried the Prince; 'you are laughing at me, and\nbeside we should not get there for a year.'\n\n'Oh! well then don't do it,' replied the gazelle, 'I am quite willing to\nstay here. The grass is green, and the water clear. But if I were you I\nshould take the advice that was given me and ride the snail.'\n\nSo, though it did not please him at all, the Prince took the gazelle in\nhis arms, and mounted upon the back of the snail, which glided along\nvery peaceably, entirely declining to be hurried by frequent blows from\nthe Prince's heels. In vain did the gazelle represent to him that she\nwas enjoying herself very much, and that this was the easiest mode of\nconveyance she had ever discovered. Prince Vivien was wild with\nimpatience, and thought that the Green Castle would never be reached.\nHowever, at last, they did get there, and everyone who was in it ran to\nsee the Prince dismount from his singular steed.\n\nBut what was his surprise, when having at her request set the gazelle\ngently down upon the steps which led up to the castle, he saw her\nsuddenly change into a charming Princess, and recognised in her his\npretty cousin Placida, who greeted him with her usual tranquil\nsweetness. His delight knew no bounds, and he followed her eagerly up\ninto the castle, impatient to know what strange events had brought her\nthere. But after all he had to wait for the Princess's story, for the\ninhabitants of the Green Lands, hearing that the Giant was dead, ran to\noffer the kingdom to his vanquisher, and Prince Vivien had to listen to\nvarious complimentary harangues, which took a great deal of time, though\nhe cut them as short as politeness allowed--if not shorter. But at last\nhe was free to rejoin Placida, who at once began the story of her\nadventures.\n\n'After you had gone away,' said she, 'they tried to make me learn how to\ngovern the kingdom, which wearied me to death, so that I begged and\nprayed Lolotte to take me away with her, and this she presently did, but\nvery reluctantly. However, having been transported to her grotto upon my\nfavourite couch, I spent several delicious days, soothed by the soft\ngreen light, which was like a beech wood in the spring, and by the\nmurmuring of bees and the tinkle of falling water. But alas! Lolotte was\nforced to go away to a general assembly of the Fairies, and she came\nback in great dismay, telling me that her indulgence to me had cost her\ndear, for she had been severely reprimanded and ordered to hand me over\nto the Fairy Mirlifiche, who was already taking charge of you, and who\nhad been much commended for her management of you.'\n\n'Fine management, indeed,' interrupted the Prince, 'if it is to her I\nowe all the adventures I have met with! But go on with your story, my\ncousin. I can tell you all about my doings afterwards, and then you can\njudge for yourself.'\n\n'At first I was grieved to see Lolotte cry,' resumed the Princess, 'but\nI soon found that grieving was very troublesome, so I thought it better\nto be calm, and very soon afterwards I saw the Fairy Mirlifiche arrive,\nmounted upon her great unicorn. She stopped before the grotto and bade\nLolotte bring me out to her, at which she cried worse than ever, and\nkissed me a dozen times, but she dared not refuse. I was lifted up on to\nthe unicorn, behind Mirlifiche, who said to me--\n\n'\"Hold on tight, little girl, if you don't want to break your neck.\"\n\n'And, indeed, I had to hold on with all my might, for her horrible steed\ntrotted so violently that it positively took my breath away. However, at\nlast we stopped at a large farm, and the farmer and his wife ran out as\nsoon as they saw the Fairy, and helped us to dismount.\n\n'I knew that they were really a King and Queen, whom the Fairies were\npunishing for their ignorance and idleness. You may imagine that I was\nby this time half dead with fatigue, but Mirlifiche insisted upon my\nfeeding her unicorn before I did anything else. To accomplish this I had\nto climb up a long ladder into the hayloft, and bring down, one after\nanother, twenty-four handfuls of hay. Never, never before, did I have\nsuch a wearisome task! It makes me shudder to think of it now, and that\nwas not all. In the same way I had to carry the twenty-four handfuls of\nhay to the stable, and then it was supper time, and I had to wait upon\nall the others. After that I really thought I should be allowed to go\npeaceably to my little bed, but, oh dear no! First of all I had to make\nit, for it was all in confusion, and then I had to make one for the\nFairy, and tuck her in, and draw the curtains round her, beside\nrendering her a dozen little services which I was not at all accustomed\nto. Finally, when I was perfectly exhausted by all this toil, I was free\nto go to bed myself, but as I had never before undressed myself, and\nreally did not know how to begin, I lay down as I was. Unfortunately,\nthe Fairy found this out, and just as I was falling into a sweet\nslumber, she made me get up once more, but even then I managed to escape\nher vigilance, and only took off my upper robe. Indeed, I may tell you\nin confidence, that I always find disobedience answer very well. One is\noften scolded, it is true, but then one has been saved some trouble.\n\n'At the earliest dawn of day Mirlifiche woke me, and made me take many\njourneys to the stable to bring her word how her unicorn had slept, and\nhow much hay he had eaten, and then to find out what time it was, and if\nit was a fine day. I was so slow, and did my errands so badly, that\nbefore she left she called the King and Queen and said to them:\n\n'\"I am much more pleased with you this year. Continue to make the best\nof your farm, if you wish to get back to your kingdom, and also take\ncare of this little Princess for me, and teach her to be useful, that\nwhen I come I may find her cured of her faults. If she is not----\"\n\n'Here she broke off with a significant look, and mounting my enemy the\nunicorn, speedily disappeared.\n\n'Then the King and Queen, turning to me, asked me what I could do.\n\n'\"Nothing at all, I assure you,\" I replied in a tone which really ought\nto have convinced them, but they went on to describe various\nemployments, and tried to discover which of them would be most to my\ntaste. However, at last I persuaded them that to do nothing whatever\nwould be the only thing that would suit me, and that if they really\nwanted to be kind to me, they would let me go to bed and to sleep, and\nnot tease me about doing anything. To my great joy, they not only\npermitted this, but actually, when they had their own meals, the Queen\nbrought my portion up to me. But early the next morning she appeared at\nmy bedside, saying, with an apologetic air:\n\n'\"My pretty child, I am afraid you must really make up your mind to get\nup to-day. I know quite well how delightful it is to be thoroughly idle,\nfor when my husband and I were King and Queen we did nothing at all from\nmorning to night, and I sincerely hope that it will not be long before\nthose happy days will come again for us. But at present we have not\nreached them, nor have you, and you know from what the Fairy said that\nperhaps worse things may happen to us if she is not obeyed. Make haste,\nI beg of you, and come down to breakfast, for I have put by some\ndelicious cream for you.\"\n\n'It was really very tiresome, but as there was no help for it I went\ndown!\n\n'But the instant breakfast was over they began again their cuckoo-cry of\n\"What will you do?\" In vain did I answer--\n\n'\"Nothing at all, if it please you, madam.\"\n\n'The Queen at last gave me a spindle and about four pounds of hemp upon\na distaff, and sent me out to keep the sheep, assuring me that there\ncould not be a pleasanter occupation, and that I could take my ease as\nmuch as I pleased. I was forced to set out, very unwillingly, as you may\nimagine, but I had not walked far before I came to a shady bank in what\nseemed to me a charming place. I stretched myself cosily upon the soft\ngrass, and with the bundle of hemp for a pillow slept as tranquilly as\nif there were no such things as sheep in the world, while they for their\npart wandered hither and thither at their own sweet will, as if there\nwere no such thing as a shepherdess, invading every field, and browsing\nupon every kind of forbidden dainty, until the peasants, alarmed by the\nhavoc they were making, raised a clamour, which at last reached the ears\nof the King and Queen, who ran out, and seeing the cause of the\ncommotion, hastily collected their flock. And, indeed, the sooner the\nbetter, since they had to pay for all the damage they had done. As for\nme I lay still and watched them run, for I was very comfortable, and\nthere I might be still if they had not come up, all panting and\nbreathless, and compelled me to get up and follow them; they also\nreproached me bitterly, but I need hardly tell you that they did not\nagain entrust me with the flock.\n\n'But whatever they found for me to do it was always the same thing, I\nspoilt and mismanaged it all, and was so successful in provoking even\nthe most patient people, that one day I ran away from the farm, for I\nwas really afraid the Queen would be obliged to beat me. When I came to\nthe little river in which the King used to fish, I found the boat tied\nto a tree, and stepping in I unfastened it, and floated gently down with\nthe current. The gliding of the boat was so soothing that I did not\ntrouble myself in the least when the Queen caught sight of me and ran\nalong the bank, crying--\n\n'\"My boat, my boat! Husband, come and catch the little Princess who is\nrunning away with my boat!\"\n\n'The current soon carried me out of hearing of her cries, and I dreamed\nto the song of the ripples and the whisper of the trees, until the boat\nsuddenly stopped, and I found it was stuck fast beside a fresh green\nmeadow, and that the sun was rising. In the distance I saw some little\nhouses which seemed to be built in a most singular fashion, but as I was\nby this time very hungry I set out towards them, but before I had walked\nmany steps, I saw that the air was full of shining objects which seemed\nto be fixed, and yet I could not see what they hung from.\n\n'I went nearer, and saw a silken cord hanging down to the ground, and\npulled it just because it was so close to my hand. Instantly the whole\nmeadow resounded to the melodious chiming of a peal of silver bells, and\nthey sounded so pretty that I sat down to listen, and to watch them as\nthey swung shining in the sunbeams. Before they ceased to sound, came a\ngreat flight of birds, and each one perching upon a bell added its\ncharming song to the concert. As they ended, I looked up and saw a tall\nand stately dame advancing towards me, surrounded and followed by a\nvast flock of every kind of bird.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n'\"Who are you, little girl,\" said she, \"who dares to come where I allow\nno mortal to live, lest my birds should be disturbed? Still, if you are\nclever at anything,\" she added, \"I might be able to put up with your\npresence.\"\n\n'\"Madam,\" I answered, rising, \"you may be very sure that I shall not do\nanything to alarm your birds. I only beg you, for pity's sake, to give\nme something to eat.\"\n\n'\"I will do that,\" she replied, \"before I send you where you deserve to\ngo.\"\n\n'And thereupon she despatched six jays, who were her pages, to fetch me\nall sorts of biscuits, while some of the other birds brought ripe\nfruits. In fact, I had a delicious breakfast, though I do not like to be\nwaited upon so quickly. It is so disagreeable to be hurried. I began to\nthink I should like very well to stay in this pleasant country, and I\nsaid so to the stately lady, but she answered with the greatest disdain:\n\n'\"Do you think I would keep you here? _You!_ Why what do you suppose\nwould be the good of you in this country, where everybody is wide-awake\nand busy? No, no, I have shown you all the hospitality you will get from\nme.\"\n\n'With these words she turned and gave a vigorous pull to the silken rope\nwhich I mentioned before, but instead of a melodious chime, there arose\na hideous clanging which quite terrified me, and in an instant a huge\nBlack Bird appeared, which alighted at the Fairy's feet, saying in a\nfrightful voice--\n\n'\"What do you want of me, my sister?\"\n\n'\"I wish you to take this little Princess to my cousin, the Giant of the\nGreen Castle, at once,\" she replied, \"and beg him from me to make her\nwork day and night upon his beautiful tapestry.\"\n\n'At these words the great Bird snatched me up, regardless of my cries,\nand flew off at a terrific pace----'\n\n'Oh! you are joking, cousin,' interrupted Prince Vivien; 'you mean as\nslowly as possible. I know that horrible Black Bird, and the lengthiness\nof all his proceedings and surroundings.'\n\n'Have it your own way,' replied Placida, tranquilly. 'I cannot bear\narguing. Perhaps, this was not even the same bird. At any rate, he\ncarried me off at a prodigious speed, and set me gently down in this\nvery castle of which you are now the master. We entered by one of the\nwindows, and when the Bird had handed me over to the Giant from whom you\nhave been good enough to deliver me, and given the Fairy's message, it\ndeparted.\n\n'Then the Giant turned to me, saying,\n\n'\"So you are an idler! Ah! well, we must teach you to work. You won't be\nthe first we have cured of laziness. See how busy all my guests are.\"\n\n'I looked up as he spoke, and saw that an immense gallery ran all round\nthe hall, in which were tapestry frames, spindles, skeins of wool,\npatterns, and all necessary things. Before each frame about a dozen\npeople were sitting, hard at work, at which terrible sight I fainted\naway, and as soon as I recovered they began to ask me what I could do.\n\n'It was in vain that I replied as before, and with the strongest desire\nto be taken at my word, \"Nothing at all.\"\n\n'The Giant only said,\n\n'\"Then you must learn to do something; in this world there is enough\nwork for everybody.\"\n\n'It appeared that they were working into the tapestry all the stories\nthe Fairies liked best, and they began to try and teach me to help them,\nbut from the first class, where they tried me to begin with, I sank\nlower and lower, and not even the most simple stitches could I learn.\n\n'In vain they punished me by all the usual methods. In vain the Giant\nshowed me his menagerie, which was entirely composed of children who\nwould not work! Nothing did me any good, and at last I was reduced to\ndrawing water for the dyeing of the wools, and even over that I was so\nslow that this morning the Giant flew into a rage and changed me into a\ngazelle. He was just putting me into the menagerie when I happened to\ncatch sight of a dog, and was seized with such terror that I fled away\nat my utmost speed, and escaped through the outer court of the castle.\nThe Giant, fearing that I should be lost altogether, sent his green lion\nafter me, with orders to bring me back, cost what it might, and I should\ncertainly have let myself be caught, or eaten up, or anything, rather\nthan run any further, if I had not luckily met you by the fountain. And\noh!' concluded the Princess, 'how delightful it is once more to be able\nto sit still in peace. I was so tired of trying to learn things.'\n\nPrince Vivien said that, for his part, he had been kept a great deal too\nstill, and had not found it at all amusing, and then he recounted all\nhis adventures with breathless rapidity. How he had taken shelter with\nDame Patience, and consulted the Oracle, and voyaged in the paper ship.\nThen they went hand in hand to release all the prisoners in the castle,\nand all the Princes and Princesses who were in cages in the menagerie,\nfor the instant the Green Giant was dead they had resumed their natural\nforms. As you may imagine, they were all very grateful, and Princess\nPlacida entreated them never, never to do another stitch of work so long\nas they lived, and they promptly made a great bonfire in the courtyard,\nand solemnly burnt all the embroidery frames and spinning wheels. Then\nthe Princess gave them splendid presents, or rather sat by while Prince\nVivien gave them, and there were great rejoicings in the Green Castle,\nand everyone did his best to please the Prince and Princess. But with\nall their good intentions, they often made mistakes, for Vivien and\nPlacida were never of one mind about their plans, so it was very\nconfusing, and they frequently found themselves obeying the Prince's\norders, very, very slowly, and rushing off with lightning speed to do\nsomething that the Princess did not wish to have done at all, until,\nby-and-by, the two cousins took to consulting with, and consoling one\nanother in all these little vexations, and at last came to be so fond of\neach other that for Placida's sake Vivien became quite patient, and for\nVivien's sake Placida made the most unheard-of exertions. But now the\nFairies who had been watching all these proceedings with interest,\nthought it was time to interfere, and ascertain by further trials if\nthis improvement was likely to continue, and if they really loved one\nanother. So they caused Placida to seem to have a violent fever, and\nVivien to languish and grow dull, and made each of them very uneasy\nabout the other, and then, finding a moment when they were apart, the\nFairy Mirlifiche suddenly appeared to Placida, and said--\n\n'I have just seen Prince Vivien, and he seemed to me to be very ill.'\n\n'Alas! yes, madam,' she answered, 'and if you will but cure him, you may\ntake me back to the farm, or bring the Green Giant to life again, and\nyou shall see how obedient I will be.'\n\n'If you really wish him to recover,' said the Fairy, 'you have only to\ncatch the Trotting Mouse and the Chaffinch-on-the-Wing and bring them to\nme. Only remember that time presses!'\n\nShe had hardly finished speaking before the Princess was rushing\nheadlong out of the castle gate, and the Fairy after watching her till\nshe was lost to sight, gave a little chuckle and went in search of the\nPrince, who begged her earnestly to send him back to the Black Castle,\nor to the paper boat if she would but save Placida's life. The Fairy\nshook her head, and looked very grave. She quite agreed with him, the\nPrincess was in a bad way--'But,' said she, 'if you can find the Rosy\nMole, and give him to her she will recover.' So now it was the Prince's\nturn to set off in a vast hurry, only as soon as he left the Castle he\nhappened to go in exactly the opposite direction to the one Placida had\ntaken. Now you can imagine these two devoted lovers hunting night and\nday. The Princess in the woods, always running, always listening,\npursuing hotly after two creatures which seemed to her very hard to\ncatch, which she yet never ceased from pursuing. The Prince on the other\nhand wandering continually across the meadows, his eyes fixed upon the\nground, attentive to every movement among the moles. He was forced to\nwalk slowly--slowly upon tip-toe, hardly venturing to breathe. Often he\nstood for hours motionless as a statue, and if the desire to succeed\ncould have helped him he would soon have possessed the Rosy Mole. But\nalas! all that he caught were black and ordinary, though strange to say\nhe never grew impatient, but always seemed ready to begin the tedious\nhunt again. But this changing of character is one of the most ordinary\nmiracles which love works. Neither the Prince nor the Princess gave a\nthought to anything but their quest. It never even occurred to them to\nwonder what country they had reached. So you may guess how astonished\nthey were one day, when having at last been successful after their long\nand weary chase, they cried aloud at the same instant: 'At last I have\nsaved my beloved,' and then recognising each other's voice looked up,\nand rushed to meet one another with the wildest joy. Surprise kept them\nsilent while for one delicious moment they gazed into each other's eyes,\nand just then who should come up but King Gridelin, for it was into his\nkingdom they had accidentally strayed. He recognised them in his turn\nand greeted them joyfully, but when they turned afterwards to look for\nthe Rosy Mole, the Chaffinch, and the Trotting-Mouse, they had vanished,\nand in their places stood a lovely lady whom they did not know, the\nBlack Bird, and the Green Giant. King Gridelin had no sooner set eyes\nupon the lady than with a cry of joy he clasped her in his arms, for it\nwas no other than his long-lost wife, Santorina, about whose\nimprisonment in Fairyland you may perhaps read some day.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThen the Black Bird and the Green Giant resumed their natural form, for\nthey were enchanters, and up flew Lolotte and Mirlifiche in their\nchariots, and then there was a great kissing and congratulating, for\neverybody had regained someone he loved, including the enchanters, who\nloved their natural forms dearly. After this they repaired to the\nPalace, and the wedding of Prince Vivien and Princess Placida was held\nat once with all the splendour imaginable.\n\nKing Gridelin and Queen Santorina, after all their experiences, had no\nfurther desire to reign, so they retired happily to a peaceful place,\nleaving their kingdom to the Prince and Princess, who were beloved by\nall their subjects, and found their greatest happiness all their lives\nlong in making other people happy.\n\n _Nonchalante et Papillon._\n\n\n\n\n _LITTLE ONE-EYE, LITTLE TWO-EYES, AND LITTLE THREE-EYES_\n\n\nThere was once a woman who had three daughters, of whom the eldest was\ncalled Little One-eye, because she had only one eye in the middle of her\nforehead; and the second, Little Two-eyes, because she had two eyes like\nother people; and the youngest, Little Three-eyes, because she had three\neyes, and _her_ third eye was also in the middle of her forehead. But\nbecause Little Two-eyes did not look any different from other children,\nher sisters and mother could not bear her. They would say to her, 'You\nwith your two eyes are no better than common folk; you don't belong to\nus.' They pushed her here, and threw her wretched clothes there, and\ngave her to eat only what they left, and they were as unkind to her as\never they could be.\n\nIt happened one day that Little Two-eyes had to go out into the fields\nto take care of the goat, but she was still quite hungry because her\nsisters had given her so little to eat. So she sat down in the meadow\nand began to cry, and she cried so much that two little brooks ran out\nof her eyes. But when she looked up once in her grief there stood a\nwoman beside her who asked, 'Little Two-eyes, what are you crying for?'\nLittle Two-eyes answered, 'Have I not reason to cry? Because I have two\neyes like other people, my sisters and my mother cannot bear me; they\npush me out of one corner into another, and give me nothing to eat\nexcept what they leave. To-day they have given me so little that I am\nstill quite hungry.' Then the wise woman said, 'Little Two-eyes, dry\nyour eyes, and I will tell you something so that you need never be\nhungry again. Only say to your goat,\n\n \"Little goat, bleat,\n Little table, appear,\"\n\nand a beautifully spread table will stand before you, with the most\ndelicious food on it, so that you can eat as much as you want. And when\nyou have had enough and don't want the little table any more, you have\nonly to say,\n\n \"Little goat, bleat,\n Little table, away,\"\n\nand then it will vanish.' Then the wise woman went away.\n\nBut Little Two-eyes thought, 'I must try at once if what she has told me\nis true, for I am more hungry than ever'; and she said,\n\n 'Little goat, bleat,\n Little table appear,'\n\nand scarcely had she uttered the words, when there stood a little table\nbefore her covered with a white cloth, on which were arranged a plate,\nwith a knife and fork and a silver spoon, and the most beautiful dishes,\nwhich were smoking hot, as if they had just come out of the kitchen.\nThen Little Two-eyes said the shortest grace she knew, and set to work\nand made a good dinner. And when she had had enough, she said, as the\nwise woman had told her,\n\n 'Little goat, bleat,\n Little table, away,'\n\nand immediately the table and all that was on it disappeared again.\n'That is a splendid way of housekeeping,' thought Little Two-eyes, and\nshe was quite happy and contented.\n\nIn the evening, when she went home with her goat, she found a little\nearthenware dish with the food that her sisters had thrown to her, but\nshe did not touch it. The next day she went out again with her goat, and\nleft the few scraps which were given her. The first and second times her\nsisters did not notice this, but when it happened continually, they\nremarked it and said, 'Something is the matter with Little Two-eyes, for\nshe always leaves her food now, and she used to gobble up all that was\ngiven her. She must have found other means of getting food.' So in order\nto get at the truth, Little One-eye was told to go out with Little\nTwo-eyes when she drove the goat to pasture, and to notice particularly\nwhat she got there, and whether anyone brought her food and drink.\n\nNow when Little Two-eyes was setting out, Little One-eye came up to her\nand said, 'I will go into the field with you and see if you take good\ncare of the goat, and if you drive him properly to get grass.' But\nLittle Two-eyes saw what Little One-eye had in her mind, and she drove\nthe goat into the long grass and said, 'Come, Little One-eye, we will\nsit down here, and I will sing you something.' Little One-eye sat down,\nand as she was very much tired by the long walk to which she was not\nused, and by the hot day, and as Little Two-eyes went on singing\n\n 'Little One-eye, are you awake?\n Little One-eye, are you asleep?'\n\nshe shut her one eye and fell asleep. When Little Two-eyes saw that\nLittle One-eye was asleep and could find out nothing, she said,\n\n 'Little goat, bleat,\n Little table, appear,'\n\nand sat down at her table and ate and drank as much as she wanted. Then\nshe said again,\n\n 'Little goat, bleat,\n Little table, away.'\n\nand in the twinkling of an eye all had vanished.\n\nLittle Two-eyes then woke Little One-eye and said, 'Little One-eye, you\nmeant to watch, and, instead, you went to sleep; in the meantime the\ngoat might have run far and wide. Come, we will go home.' So they went\nhome, and Little Two-eyes again left her little dish untouched, and\nLittle One-eye could not tell her mother why she would not eat, and said\nas an excuse, 'I was so sleepy out-of-doors.'\n\nThe next day the mother said to Little Three-eyes, 'This time you shall\ngo with Little Two-eyes and watch whether she eats anything out in the\nfields, and whether anyone brings her food and drink, for eat and drink\nshe must secretly.' So Little Three-eyes went to Little Two-eyes and\nsaid, 'I will go with you and see if you take good care of the goat, and\nif you drive him properly to get grass.' But little Two-eyes knew what\nLittle Three-eyes had in her mind, and she drove the goat out into the\ntall grass and said, 'We will sit down here, Little Three-eyes, and I\nwill sing you something.' Little Three-eyes sat down; she was tired by\nthe walk and the hot day, and Little Two-eyes sang the same little song\nagain;\n\n 'Little Three-eyes, are you awake?'\n\nbut instead of singing as she ought to have done,\n\n 'Little Three-eyes, are you asleep?'\n\nshe sang, without thinking,\n\n 'Little _Two-eyes_, are you asleep?'\n\nShe went on singing,\n\n 'Little Three-eyes, are you awake?\n Little _Two-eyes_, are you asleep?'\n\nso that the two eyes of Little Three-eyes fell asleep, but the third,\nwhich was not spoken to in the little rhyme, did not fall asleep. Of\ncourse Little Three-eyes shut that eye also out of cunning, to look as\nif she were asleep, but it was blinking and could see everything quite\nwell.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAnd when Little Two-eyes thought that Little Three-eyes was sound\nasleep, she said her rhyme,\n\n 'Little goat, bleat,\n Little table, appear,'\n\nand ate and drank to her heart's content, and then made the table go\naway again, by saying,\n\n 'Little goat, bleat,\n Little table, away.'\n\nBut Little Three-eyes had seen everything. Then Little Two-eyes came to\nher, and woke her and said, 'Well, Little Three-eyes, have you been\nasleep? You watch well! Come, we will go home.' When they reached home,\nLittle Two-eyes did not eat again, and Little Three-eyes said to the\nmother, 'I know now why that proud thing eats nothing. When she says to\nthe goat in the field,\n\n \"Little goat, bleat,\n Little table, appear,\"\n\na table stands before her, spread with the best food, much better than\nwe have; and when she has had enough, she says,\n\n \"Little goat, bleat,\n Little table, away,\"\n\nand everything disappears again. I saw it all exactly. She made two of\nmy eyes go to sleep with a little rhyme, but the one in my forehead\nremained awake, luckily!'\n\nThen the envious mother cried out, 'Will you fare better than we do? you\nshall not have the chance to do so again!' and she fetched a knife, and\nkilled the goat.\n\nWhen Little Two-eyes saw this, she went out full of grief, and sat down\nin the meadow and wept bitter tears. Then again the wise woman stood\nbefore her, and said, 'Little Two-eyes, what are you crying for?' 'Have\nI not reason to cry?' she answered, 'the goat, which when I said the\nlittle rhyme, spread the table so beautifully, my mother has killed, and\nnow I must suffer hunger and want again.' The wise woman said, 'Little\nTwo-eyes, I will give you a good piece of advice. Ask your sisters to\ngive you the heart of the dead goat, and bury it in the earth before the\nhouse-door; that will bring you good luck.' Then she disappeared, and\nLittle Two-eyes went home, and said to her sisters, 'Dear sisters, do\ngive me something of my goat; I ask nothing better than its heart.' Then\nthey laughed and said, 'You can have that if you want nothing more.' And\nLittle Two-eyes took the heart and buried it in the evening when all was\nquiet, as the wise woman had told her, before the house-door. The next\nmorning when they all awoke and came to the house-door, there stood a\nmost wonderful tree, which had leaves of silver and fruit of gold\ngrowing on it--you never saw anything more lovely and gorgeous in your\nlife! But they did not know how the tree had grown up in the night; only\nLittle Two-eyes knew that it had sprung from the heart of the goat, for\nit was standing just where she had buried it in the ground. Then the\nmother said to Little One-eye, 'Climb up, my child, and break us off the\nfruit from the tree.' Little One-eye climbed up, but just when she was\ngoing to take hold of one of the golden apples the bough sprang out of\nher hands; and this happened every time, so that she could not break off\na single apple, however hard she tried. Then the mother said, 'Little\nThree-eyes, do you climb up; you with your three eyes can see round\nbetter than Little One-eye.' So Little One-eye slid down, and Little\nThree-eyes climbed up; but she was not any more successful; look round\nas she might, the golden apples bent themselves back. At last the mother\ngot impatient and climbed up herself, but she was even less\nsuccessful than Little One-eye and Little Three-eyes in catching hold of\nthe fruit, and only grasped at the empty air. Then Little Two-eyes said,\n'I will just try once, perhaps I shall succeed better.' The sisters\ncalled out, 'You with your two eyes will no doubt succeed!' But Little\nTwo-eyes climbed up, and the golden apples did not jump away from her,\nbut behaved quite properly, so that she could pluck them off, one after\nthe other, and brought a whole apron-full down with her. The mother took\nthem from her, and, instead of behaving better to poor Little Two-eyes,\nas they ought to have done, they were jealous that she only could reach\nthe fruit and behaved still more unkindly to her.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nIt happened one day that when they were all standing together by the\ntree that a young knight came riding along. 'Be quick, Little Two-eyes,'\ncried the two sisters, 'creep under this, so that you shall not disgrace\nus,' and they put over poor Little Two-eyes as quickly as possible an\nempty cask, which was standing close to the tree, and they pushed the\ngolden apples which she had broken off under with her. When the knight,\nwho was a very handsome young man, rode up, he wondered to see the\nmarvellous tree of gold and silver, and said to the two sisters, 'Whose\nis this beautiful tree? Whoever will give me a twig of it shall have\nwhatever she wants.' Then Little One-eye and Little Three-eyes answered\nthat the tree belonged to them, and that they would certainly break him\noff a twig. They gave themselves a great deal of trouble, but in vain;\nthe twigs and fruit bent back every time from their hands. Then the\nknight said, 'It is very strange that the tree should belong to you, and\nyet that you have not the power to break anything from it!' But they\nwould have that the tree was theirs; and while they were saying this,\nLittle Two-eyes rolled a couple of golden apples from under the cask, so\nthat they lay at the knight's feet, for she was angry with Little\nOne-eye and Little Three-eyes for not speaking the truth. When the\nknight saw the apples he was astonished, and asked where they came from.\nLittle One-eye and Little Three-eyes answered that they had another\nsister, but she could not be seen because she had only two eyes, like\nordinary people. But the knight demanded to see her, and called out,\n'Little Two-eyes, come forth.' Then Little Two-eyes came out from under\nthe cask quite happily, and the knight was astonished at her great\nbeauty, and said, 'Little Two-eyes, I am sure you can break me off a\ntwig from the tree.' 'Yes,' answered Little Two-eyes, 'I can, for the\ntree is mine.' So she climbed up and broke off a small branch with its\nsilver leaves and golden fruit without any trouble, and gave it to the\nknight. Then he said, 'Little Two-eyes, what shall I give you for this?'\n'Ah,' answered Little Two-eyes, 'I suffer hunger and thirst, want and\nsorrow, from early morning till late in the evening; if you would take\nme with you, and free me from this, I should be happy!' Then the knight\nlifted Little Two-eyes on his horse, and took her home to his father's\ncastle. There he gave her beautiful clothes, and food and drink, and\nbecause he loved her so much he married her, and the wedding was\ncelebrated with great joy.\n\nWhen the handsome knight carried Little Two-eyes away with him, the two\nsisters envied her good luck at first. 'But the wonderful tree is still\nwith us, after all,' they thought, 'and although we cannot break any\nfruit from it, everyone will stop and look at it, and will come to us\nand praise it; who knows whether _we_ may not reap a harvest from it?'\nBut the next morning the tree had flown, and their hopes with it; and\nwhen Little Two-eyes looked out of her window there it stood underneath,\nto her great delight. Little Two-eyes lived happily for a long time.\nOnce two poor women came to the castle to beg alms. Then Little Two-eyes\nlooked at them and recognised both her sisters, Little One-eye and\nLittle Three-eyes, who had become so poor that they came to beg bread at\nher door. But Little Two-eyes bade them welcome, and was so good to them\nthat they both repented from their hearts of having been so unkind to\ntheir sister.\n\n Grimm.\n\n\n\n\n _JORINDE AND JORINGEL_\n\n\nThere was once upon a time a castle in the middle of a thick wood where\nlived an old woman quite alone, for she was an enchantress. In the\nday-time she changed herself into a cat or a night-owl, but in the\nevening she became like an ordinary woman again. She could entice\nanimals and birds to come to her, and then she would kill and cook them.\nIf any youth came within a hundred paces of the castle, he was obliged\nto stand still, and could not stir from the spot till she set him free;\nbut if a pretty girl came within this boundary, the old enchantress\nchanged her into a bird, and shut her up in a wicker cage, which she put\nin one of the rooms in the castle. She had quite seven thousand of such\ncages in the castle with very rare birds in them.\n\nNow, there was once a maiden called Jorinde, who was more beautiful than\nother maidens. She and a youth named Joringel, who was just as\ngood-looking as she was, were betrothed to one another. Their greatest\ndelight was to be together, and so that they might get a good long talk,\nthey went one evening for a walk in the wood. 'Take care,' said\nJoringel, 'not to come too close to the castle.' It was a beautiful\nevening; the sun shone brightly between the stems of the trees among the\ndark green leaves of the forest, and the turtle-dove sang clearly on the\nold may bushes.\n\nJorinde wept from time to time, and she sat herself down in the sunshine\nand lamented, and Joringel lamented too. They felt as sad as if they had\nbeen condemned to die; they looked round and got quite confused, and did\nnot remember which was their way home. Half the sun was still above the\nmountain and half was behind it when Joringel looked through the trees\nand saw the old wall of the castle quite near them. He was terrified and\nhalf dead with fright. Jorinde sang:\n\n 'My little bird with throat so red\n Sings sorrow, sorrow, sorrow;\n He sings to the little dove that's dead,\n Sings sorrow, sor----jug, jug, jug.'\n\nJoringel looked up at Jorinde. She had been changed into a nightingale,\nwho was singing 'jug, jug.' A night-owl with glowing eyes flew three\ntimes round her, and screeched three times 'tu-whit, tu-whit, tu-whoo.'\nJoringel could not stir; he stood there like a stone; he could not weep,\nor speak, or move hand or foot. Now the sun set; the owl flew into a\nbush, and immediately an old, bent woman came out of it; she was\nyellow-skinned and thin, and had large red eyes and a hooked nose, which\nmet her chin. She muttered to herself, caught the nightingale, and\ncarried her away in her hand. Joringel could say nothing; he could not\nmove from the spot, and the nightingale was gone. At last the woman came\nback again, and said in a gruff voice, 'Good evening, Zachiel; when the\nyoung moon shines in the basket, you are freed early, Zachiel.' Then\nJoringel was free. He fell on his knees before the old woman and\nimplored her to give him back his Jorinde, but she said he should never\nhave her again, and then went away. He called after her, he wept and\nlamented, but all in vain. 'What is to become of me!' he thought. Then\nhe went away, and came at last to a strange village, where he kept sheep\nfor a long time. He often went round the castle while he was there, but\nnever too close. At last he dreamt one night that he had found a\nblood-red flower, which had in its centre a beautiful large pearl. He\nplucked this flower and went with it to the castle; and there everything\nwhich he touched with the flower was freed from the enchantment, and he\ngot his Jorinde back again through it. When he awoke in the morning he\nbegan to seek mountain and valley to find such a flower. He sought it\nfor eight days, and on the ninth early in the morning he found the\nblood-red flower. In its centre was a large dew-drop, as big as the most\nlovely pearl. He travelled day and night with this flower till he\narrived at the castle. When he came within a hundred paces of it he did\nnot cease to be able to move, but he went on till he reached the gate.\nHe was delighted at his success, touched the great gate with the flower,\nand it sprung open. He entered, passed through the courtyard, and then\nstopped to listen for the singing of the birds; at last he heard it. He\nwent in and found the hall in which was the enchantress, and with her\nseven thousand birds in their wicker cages. When she saw Joringel she\nwas furious, and breathed out poison and gall at him, but she could not\nmove a step towards him. He took no notice of her, and went and looked\nover the cages of birds; but there were many hundred nightingales, and\nhow was he to find his Jorinde from among them? Whilst he was\nconsidering, he observed the old witch take up a cage secretly and go\nwith it towards the door. Instantly he sprang after her, touched the\ncage with the flower, and the old woman as well. Now she could no longer\nwork enchantments, and there stood Jorinde before him, with her arms\nround his neck, and more beautiful than ever. Then he turned all the\nother birds again into maidens, and he went home with his Jorinde, and\nthey lived a long and happy life.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n Grimm.\n\n\n\n\n _ALLERLEIRAUH; OR, THE MANY-FURRED CREATURE_\n\n\nThere was once upon a time a King who had a wife with golden hair, and\nshe was so beautiful that you couldn't find anyone like her in the\nworld. It happened that she fell ill, and when she felt that she must\nsoon die, she sent for the King, and said, 'If you want to marry after\nmy death, make no one queen unless she is just as beautiful as I am, and\nhas just such golden hair as I have. Promise me this.' After the King\nhad promised her this, she closed her eyes and died.\n\nFor a long time the King was not to be comforted, and he did not even\nthink of taking a second wife. At last his councillors said, 'The King\n_must_ marry again, so that we may have a queen.' So messengers were\nsent far and wide to seek for a bride equal to the late Queen in beauty.\nBut there was no one in the wide world, and if there had been she could\nnot have had such golden hair. Then the messengers came home again, not\nhaving been able to find a queen.\n\nNow, the King had a daughter, who was just as beautiful as her dead\nmother, and had just such golden hair. One day when she had grown up,\nher father looked at her, and saw that she was exactly like her mother,\nso he said to his councillors, 'I will marry my daughter to one of you,\nand she shall be queen, for she is exactly like her dead mother, and\nwhen I die her husband shall be king.' But when the Princess heard of\nher father's decision, she was not at all pleased, and said to him,\n'Before I do your bidding, I must have three dresses; one as golden as\nthe sun, one as silver as the moon, and one as shining as the stars.\nBesides these, I want a cloak made of a thousand different kinds of\nskin; every animal in your kingdom must give a bit of his skin to it.'\nBut she thought to herself, 'This will be quite impossible, and I shall\nnot have to marry someone I do not care for.' The King, however, was not\nto be turned from his purpose, and he commanded the most skilled maidens\nin his kingdom to weave the three dresses, one as golden as the sun, and\none as silver as the moon, and one as shining as the stars; and he gave\norders to all his huntsmen to catch one of every kind of beast in the\nkingdom, and to get a bit of its skin to make the cloak of a thousand\npieces of fur. At last, when all was ready, the King commanded the cloak\nto be brought to him, and he spread it out before the Princess, and\nsaid, 'To-morrow shall be your wedding-day.' When the Princess saw that\nthere was no more hope of changing her father's resolution, she\ndetermined to flee away. In the night, when everyone else was sleeping,\nshe got up and took three things from her treasures, a gold ring, a\nlittle gold spinning-wheel, and a gold reel; she put the sun, moon, and\nstar dresses in a nutshell, drew on the cloak of many skins, and made\nher face and hands black with soot. Then she commended herself to God,\nand went out and travelled the whole night till she came to a large\nforest. And as she was very much tired she sat down inside a hollow tree\nand fell asleep.\n\nThe sun rose and she still slept on and on, although it was nearly noon.\nNow, it happened that the king to whom this wood belonged was hunting in\nit. When his dogs came to the tree, they sniffed, and ran round and\nround it, barking. The King said to the huntsmen, 'See what sort of a\nwild beast is in there.' The huntsmen went in, and then came back and\nsaid, 'In the hollow tree there lies a wonderful animal that we don't\nknow, and we have never seen one like it; its skin is made of a thousand\npieces of fur; but it is lying down asleep.' The King said, 'See if you\ncan catch it alive, and then fasten it to the cart, and we will take it\nwith us.' When the huntsmen seized the maiden, she awoke and was\nfrightened, and cried out to them, 'I am a poor child, forsaken by\nfather and mother; take pity on me, and let me go with you.' Then they\nsaid to her, 'Many-furred Creature, you can work in the kitchen; come\nwith us and sweep the ashes together.' So they put her in the cart and\nthey went back to the palace. There they showed her a tiny room under\nthe stairs, where no daylight came, and said to her, 'Many-furred\nCreature, you can live and sleep here.' Then she was sent into the\nkitchen, where she carried wood and water, poked the fire, washed\nvegetables, plucked fowls, swept up the ashes, and did all the dirty\nwork.\n\nSo the Many-furred Creature lived for a long time in great poverty. Ah,\nbeautiful King's daughter, what is going to befall you now?\n\n[Illustration]\n\nIt happened once when a great feast was being held in the palace, that\nshe said to the cook, 'Can I go upstairs for a little bit and look on?\nI will stand outside the doors.' The cook replied, 'Yes, you can go up,\nbut in half-an-hour you must be back here to sweep up the ashes.' Then\nshe took her little oil-lamp, and went into her little room, drew off\nher fur cloak, and washed off the soot from her face and hands, so that\nher beauty shone forth, and it was as if one sunbeam after another were\ncoming out of a black cloud. Then she opened the nut, and took out the\ndress as golden as the sun. And when she had done this, she went up to\nthe feast, and everyone stepped out of her way, for nobody knew her, and\nthey thought she must be a King's daughter. But the King came towards\nher and gave her his hand, and danced with her, thinking to himself, 'My\neyes have never beheld anyone so fair!' When the dance was ended, she\ncurtseyed to him, and when the King looked round she had disappeared, no\none knew whither. The guards who were standing before the palace were\ncalled and questioned, but no one had seen her.\n\nShe had run to her little room and had quickly taken off her dress, made\nher face and hands black, put on the fur cloak, and was once more the\nMany-furred Creature. When she came into the kitchen and was setting\nabout her work of sweeping the ashes together, the cook said to her,\n'Let that wait till to-morrow, and just cook the King's soup for me; I\nwant to have a little peep at the company upstairs; but be sure that you\ndo not let a hair fall into it, otherwise you will get nothing to eat in\nfuture!' So the cook went away, and the Many-furred Creature cooked the\nsoup for the King. She made a bread-soup as well as she possibly could,\nand when it was done, she fetched her gold ring from her little room,\nand laid it in the tureen in which the soup was to be served up.\n\nWhen the dance was ended, the King had his soup brought to him and ate\nit, and it was so good that he thought he had never tasted such soup in\nhis life. But when he came to the bottom of the dish he saw a gold ring\nlying there, and he could not imagine how it got in. Then he commanded\nthe cook to be brought before him. The cook was terrified when he heard\nthe command, and said to the Many-furred Creature, 'You must have let a\nhair fall into the soup, and if you have you deserve a good beating!'\nWhen he came before the King, the King asked who had cooked the soup.\nThe cook answered, 'I cooked it.' But the King said, 'That's not true,\nfor it was quite different and much better soup than you have ever\ncooked.' Then the cook said, 'I must confess; _I_ did not cook the soup;\nthe Many-furred Creature did.' 'Let her be brought before me,' said the\nKing. When the Many-furred Creature came, the King asked her who she\nwas. 'I am a poor child without father or mother.' Then he asked her,\n'What do you do in my palace?' 'I am of no use except to have boots\nthrown at my head.' 'How did you get the ring which was in the soup?' he\nasked. 'I know nothing at all about the ring,' she answered. So the King\ncould find out nothing, and was obliged to send her away.\n\nAfter a time there was another feast, and the Many-furred Creature\nbegged the cook as at the last one to let her go and look on. He\nanswered, 'Yes, but come back again in half-an-hour and cook the King\nthe bread-soup that he likes so much.' So she ran away to her little\nroom, washed herself quickly, took out of the nut the dress as silver as\nthe moon and put it on. Then she went upstairs looking just like a\nKing's daughter, and the King came towards her, delighted to see her\nagain, and as the dance had just begun, they danced together. But when\nthe dance was ended, she disappeared again so quickly that the King\ncould not see which way she went. She ran to her little room and changed\nherself once more into the Many-furred Creature, and went into the\nkitchen to cook the bread-soup. When the cook was upstairs, she fetched\nthe golden spinning-wheel and put it in the dish so that the soup was\npoured over it. It was brought to the King, who ate it, and liked it as\nmuch as the last time. He had the cook sent to him, and again he had to\nconfess that the Many-furred Creature had cooked the soup. Then the\nMany-furred Creature came before the King, but she said again that she\nwas of no use except to have boots thrown at her head, and that she knew\nnothing at all of the golden spinning-wheel.\n\nWhen the King had a feast for the third time, things did not turn out\nquite the same as at the other two. The cook said, 'You must be a witch,\nMany-furred Creature, for you always put something in the soup, so that\nit is much better and tastes nicer to the King than any that I cook.'\nBut because she begged hard, he let her go up for the usual time. Now\nshe put on the dress as shining as the stars, and stepped into the hall\nin it.\n\nThe King danced again with the beautiful maiden, and thought she had\nnever looked so beautiful. And while he was dancing, he put a gold ring\non her finger without her seeing it, and he commanded that the dance\nshould last longer than usual. When it was finished he wanted to keep\nher hands in his, but she broke from him, and sprang so quickly away\namong the people that she vanished from his sight. She ran as fast as\nshe could to her little room under the stairs, but because she had\nstayed too long beyond the half-hour, she could not stop to take off the\nbeautiful dress, but only threw the fur cloak over it, and in her haste\nshe did not make herself quite black with the soot, one finger remaining\nwhite. The Many-furred Creature now ran into the kitchen, cooked the\nKing's bread-soup, and when the cook had gone, she laid the gold reel in\nthe dish. When the King found the reel at the bottom, he had the\nMany-furred Creature brought to him, and then he saw the white finger,\nand the ring which he had put on her hand in the dance. Then he took her\nhand and held her tightly, and as she was trying to get away, she undid\nthe fur-cloak a little bit and the star-dress shone out. The King seized\nthe cloak and tore it off her. Her golden hair came down, and she stood\nthere in her full splendour, and could not hide herself away any more.\nAnd when the soot and ashes had been washed from her face, she looked\nmore beautiful than anyone in the world. But the King said, 'You are my\ndear bride, and we will never be separated from one another.' So the\nwedding was celebrated and they lived happily ever after.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n Grimm.\n\n\n\n\n _THE TWELVE HUNTSMEN_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a King's son who was engaged to a Princess\nwhom he dearly loved. One day as he sat by her side feeling very happy,\nhe received news that his father was lying at the point of death, and\ndesired to see him before his end. So he said to his love: 'Alas! I must\ngo off and leave you, but take this ring and wear it as a remembrance of\nme, and when I am King I will return and fetch you home.'\n\nThen he rode off, and when he reached his father he found him mortally\nill and very near death.\n\nThe King said: 'Dearest son, I have desired to see you again before my\nend. Promise me, I beg of you, that you will marry according to my\nwishes'; and he then named the daughter of a neighbouring King who he\nwas anxious should be his son's wife. The Prince was so overwhelmed with\ngrief that he could think of nothing but his father, and exclaimed:\n'Yes, yes, dear father, whatever you desire shall be done.' Thereupon\nthe King closed his eyes and died.\n\nAfter the Prince had been proclaimed King, and the usual time of\nmourning had elapsed, he felt that he must keep the promise he had made\nto his father, so he sent to ask for the hand of the King's daughter,\nwhich was granted to him at once.\n\nNow, his first love heard of this, and the thought of her lover's\ndesertion grieved her so sadly that she pined away and nearly died. Her\nfather said to her: 'My dearest child, why are you so unhappy? If there\nis anything you wish for, say so, and you shall have it.'\n\nHis daughter reflected for a moment, and then said: 'Dear father, I wish\nfor eleven girls as nearly as possible of the same height, age, and\nappearance as myself.'\n\nSaid the King: 'If the thing is possible your wish shall be fulfilled';\nand he had his kingdom searched till he found eleven maidens of the same\nheight, size, and appearance as his daughter.\n\nThen the Princess desired twelve complete huntsmen's suits to be made,\nall exactly alike, and the eleven maidens had to dress themselves in\neleven of the suits, while she herself put on the twelfth. After this\nshe took leave of her father, and rode off with her girls to the court\nof her former lover.\n\nHere she enquired whether the King did not want some huntsmen, and if he\nwould not take them all into his service. The King saw her but did not\nrecognise her, and as he thought them very good-looking young people, he\nsaid, 'Yes, he would gladly engage them all.' So they became the twelve\nroyal huntsmen.\n\nNow, the King had a most remarkable Lion, for it knew every hidden or\nsecret thing.\n\nOne evening the Lion said to the King: 'So you think you have got twelve\nhuntsmen, do you?'\n\n'Yes, certainly,' said the King, 'they _are_ twelve huntsmen.'\n\n'There you are mistaken,' said the Lion; 'they are twelve maidens.'\n\n'That cannot possibly be,' replied the King; 'how do you mean to prove\nthat?'\n\n'Just have a number of peas strewed over the floor of your\nante-chamber,' said the Lion, 'and you will soon see. Men have a strong,\nfirm tread, so that if they happen to walk over peas not one will stir,\nbut girls trip, and slip, and slide, so that the peas roll all about.'\n\nThe King was pleased with the Lion's advice, and ordered the peas to be\nstrewn in his ante-room.\n\nFortunately one of the King's servants had become very partial to the\nyoung huntsmen, and hearing of the trial they were to be put to, he went\nto them and said: 'The Lion wants to persuade the King that you are only\ngirls'; and then told them all the plot.\n\nThe King's daughter thanked him for the hint, and after he was gone she\nsaid to her maidens: 'Now make every effort to tread firmly on the\npeas.'\n\nNext morning, when the King sent for his twelve huntsmen, and they\npassed through the ante-room which was plentifully strewn with peas,\nthey trod so firmly and walked with such a steady, strong step that not\na single pea rolled away or even so much as stirred. After they were\ngone the King said to the Lion: 'There now--you have been telling\nlies--you see yourself they walk like men.'\n\n'Because they knew they were being put to the test,' answered the Lion;\n'and so they made an effort; but just have a dozen spinning-wheels\nplaced in the ante-room. When they pass through you'll see how pleased\nthey will be, quite unlike any man.'\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe King was pleased with the advice, and desired twelve\nspinning-wheels to be placed in his ante-chamber.\n\nBut the good-natured servant went to the huntsmen and told them all\nabout this fresh plot. Then, as soon as the King's daughter was alone\nwith her maidens, she exclaimed: 'Now, pray make a great effort and\ndon't even _look_ at those spinning-wheels.'\n\nWhen the King sent for his twelve huntsmen next morning they walked\nthrough the ante-room without even casting a glance at the\nspinning-wheels.'\n\nThen the King said once more to the Lion: 'You have deceived me again;\nthey _are_ men, for they never once looked at the spinning-wheels.'\n\nThe Lion replied: 'They knew they were being tried, and they did\nviolence to their feelings.' But the King declined to believe in the\nLion any longer.\n\nSo the twelve huntsmen continued to follow the King, and he grew daily\nfonder of them. One day whilst they were all out hunting it so happened\nthat news was brought that the King's intended bride was on her way and\nmight soon be expected. When the true bride heard of this she felt as\nthough a knife had pierced her heart, and she fell fainting to the\nground. The King, fearing something had happened to his dear huntsman,\nran up to help, and began drawing off his gloves. Then he saw the ring\nwhich he had given to his first love, and as he gazed into her face he\nknew her again, and his heart was so touched that he kissed her, and as\nshe opened her eyes, he cried: 'I am thine and thou art mine, and no\npower on earth can alter that.'\n\nTo the other Princess he despatched a messenger to beg her to return to\nher own kingdom with all speed. 'For,' said he, 'I have got a wife, and\nhe who finds an old key again does not require a new one.'\n\nThereupon the wedding was celebrated with great pomp, and the Lion was\nrestored to the royal favour, for after all he had told the truth.\n\n Grimm.\n\n\n\n\n _SPINDLE, SHUTTLE, AND NEEDLE_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a girl who lost her father and mother when\nshe was quite a tiny child. Her godmother lived all alone in a little\ncottage at the far end of the village, and there she earned her living\nby spinning, weaving, and sewing. The old woman took the little orphan\nhome with her and brought her up in good, pious, industrious habits.\n\nWhen the girl was fifteen years old, her godmother fell ill, and,\ncalling the child to her bedside, she said: 'My dear daughter, I feel\nthat my end is near. I leave you my cottage, which will, at least,\nshelter you, and also my spindle, my weaver's shuttle, and my needle,\nwith which to earn your bread.'\n\nThen she laid her hands on the girl's head, blessed her, and added:\n'Mind and be good, and then all will go well with you.' With that she\nclosed her eyes for the last time, and when she was carried to her grave\nthe girl walked behind her coffin weeping bitterly, and paid her all the\nlast honours.\n\nAfter this the girl lived all alone in the little cottage. She worked\nhard, spinning, weaving, and sewing, and her old godmother's blessing\nseemed to prosper all she did. The flax seemed to spread and increase;\nand when she wove a carpet or a piece of linen, or made a shirt, she was\nsure to find a customer who paid her well, so that not only did she feel\nno want herself, but she was able to help those who did.\n\nNow, it happened that about this time the King's son was making a tour\nthrough the entire country to look out for a bride. He could not marry a\npoor woman, and he did not wish for a rich one.\n\n'She shall be my wife,' said he, 'who is at once the poorest and the\nrichest.'\n\nWhen he reached the village where the girl lived, he inquired who was\nthe richest and who the poorest woman in it. The richest was named\nfirst; the poorest, he was told, was a young girl who lived alone in a\nlittle cottage at the far end of the village.\n\nThe rich girl sat at her door dressed out in all her best clothes, and\nwhen the King's son came near she got up, went to meet him, and made him\na low curtsey. He looked well at her, said nothing, but rode on\nfurther.\n\nWhen he reached the poor girl's house he did not find her at her door,\nfor she was at work in her room. The Prince reined in his horse, looked\nin at the window through which the sun was shining brightly, and saw the\ngirl sitting at her wheel busily spinning away.\n\nShe looked up, and when she saw the King's son gazing in at her, she\nblushed red all over, cast down her eyes and span on. Whether the thread\nwas quite as even as usual I really cannot say, but she went on spinning\ntill the King's son had ridden off. Then she stepped to the window and\nopened the lattice, saying, 'The room is so hot,' but she looked after\nhim as long as she could see the white plumes in his hat.\n\nThen she sat down to her work once more and span on, and as she did so\nan old saying which, she had often heard her godmother repeat whilst at\nwork, came into her head, and she began to sing:\n\n 'Spindle, spindle, go and see,\n If my love will come to me.'\n\nLo, and behold! the spindle leapt from her hand and rushed out of the\nroom, and when she had sufficiently recovered from her surprise to look\nafter it she saw it dancing merrily through the fields, dragging a long\ngolden thread after it, and soon it was lost to sight.\n\nThe girl, having lost her spindle, took up the shuttle and, seating\nherself at her loom, began to weave. Meantime the spindle danced on and\non, and just as it had come to the end of the golden thread, it reached\nthe King's son.\n\n'What do I see?' he cried; 'this spindle seems to wish to point out the\nway to me.' So he turned his horse's head and rode back beside the\ngolden thread.\n\nMeantime the girl sat weaving, and sang:\n\n 'Shuttle, weave both web and woof,\n Bring my love beneath my roof.'\n\nThe shuttle instantly escaped from her hand, and with one bound was out\nat the door. On the threshold it began weaving the loveliest carpet that\nwas ever seen. Roses and lilies bloomed on both sides, and in the centre\na thicket seemed to grow with rabbits and hares running through it,\nstags and fawns peeping through the branches, whilst on the topmost\nboughs sat birds of brilliant plumage and so life-like one almost\nexpected to hear them sing. The shuttle flew from side to side and the\ncarpet seemed almost to grow of itself.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAs the shuttle had run away the girl sat down to sew. She took her\nneedle and sang:\n\n 'Needle, needle, stitch away,\n Make my chamber bright and gay,'\n\nand the needle promptly slipped from her fingers and flew about the room\nlike lightning. You would have thought invisible spirits were at work,\nfor in next to no time the table and benches were covered with green\ncloth, the chairs with velvet, and elegant silk curtains hung before the\nwindows. The needle had barely put in its last stitch when the girl,\nglancing at the window, spied the white plumed hat of the King's son who\nwas being led back by the spindle with the golden thread.\n\nHe dismounted and walked over the carpet into the house, and when he\nentered the room there stood the girl blushing like any rose. 'You are\nthe poorest and yet the richest,' said he: 'come with me, you shall be\nmy bride.'\n\nShe said nothing, but she held out her hand. Then he kissed her, and led\nher out, lifted her on his horse and took her to his royal palace, where\nthe wedding was celebrated with great rejoicings.\n\nThe spindle, the shuttle, and the needle were carefully placed in the\ntreasury, and were always held in the very highest honour.\n\n Grimm.\n\n\n\n\n _THE CRYSTAL COFFIN_\n\n\nNow let no one say that a poor tailor can't get on in the world, and,\nindeed, even attain to very high honour. Nothing is required but to set\nthe right way to work, but of course the really important thing is to\nsucceed.\n\nA very bright active young tailor once set off on his travels, which led\nhim into a wood, and as he did not know the way he soon lost himself.\nNight came on, and there seemed to be nothing for it but to seek out the\nbest resting-place he could find. He could have made himself quite\ncomfortable with a bed of soft moss, but the fear of wild beasts\ndisturbed his mind, and at last he determined to spend the night in a\ntree.\n\nHe sought out a tall oak tree, climbed up to the top, and felt devoutly\nthankful that his big smoothing-iron was in his pocket, for the wind in\nthe tree-tops was so high that he might easily have been blown away\naltogether.\n\nAfter passing some hours of the night, not without considerable fear and\ntrembling, he noticed a light shining at a little distance, and hoping\nit might proceed from some house where he could find a better shelter\nthan in the top of the tree, he cautiously descended and went towards\nthe light. It led him to a little hut all woven together of reeds and\nrushes. He knocked bravely at the door, which opened, and by the light\nwhich shone from within he saw an old grey-haired man dressed in a coat\nmade of bright-coloured patches. 'Who are you, and what do you want?'\nasked the old man roughly.\n\n'I am a poor tailor,' replied the youth. 'I have been benighted in the\nforest, and I entreat you to let me take shelter in your hut till\nmorning.'\n\n'Go your way,' said the old man in a sulky tone, 'I'll have nothing to\ndo with tramps. You must just go elsewhere.'\n\nWith these words he tried to slip back into his house, but the tailor\nlaid hold of his coat-tails, and begged so hard to be allowed to stay\nthat the old fellow, who was by no means as cross as he appeared, was at\nlength touched by his entreaties, let him come in, and after giving him\nsome food, showed him quite a nice bed in one corner of the room. The\nweary tailor required no rocking to rest, but slept sound till early\nmorning, when he was roused from his slumbers by a tremendous noise.\nLoud screams and shouts pierced the thin walls of the little hut. The\ntailor, with new-born courage, sprang up, threw on his clothes with all\nspeed and hurried out. There he saw a huge black bull engaged in a\nterrible fight with a fine large stag. They rushed at each other with\nsuch fury that the ground seemed to tremble under them and the whole air\nto be filled with their cries. For some time it appeared quite uncertain\nwhich would be the victor, but at length the stag drove his antlers with\nsuch force into his opponent's body that the bull fell to the ground\nwith a terrific roar, and a few more strokes finished him.\n\nThe tailor, who had been watching the fight with amazement, was still\nstanding motionless when the stag bounded up to him, and before he had\ntime to escape forked him up with its great antlers, and set off at full\ngallop over hedges and ditches, hill and dale, through wood and water.\nThe tailor could do nothing but hold on tight with both hands to the\nstag's horns and resign himself to his fate. He felt as if he were\nflying along. At length the stag paused before a steep rock and gently\nlet the tailor down to the ground.\n\nFeeling more dead than alive, he paused for a while to collect his\nscattered senses, but when he seemed somewhat restored the stag struck\nsuch a blow on a door in the rock that it flew open. Flames of fire\nrushed forth, and such clouds of steam followed that the stag had to\navert its eyes. The tailor could not think what to do or which way to\nturn to get away from this awful wilderness, and to find his way back\namongst human beings once more.\n\nAs he stood hesitating, a voice from the rock cried to him: 'Step in\nwithout fear, no harm shall befall you.'\n\nHe still lingered, but some mysterious power seemed to impel him, and\npassing through the door he found himself in a spacious hall, whose\nceiling, walls, and floor were covered with polished tiles carved all\nover with unknown figures. He gazed about, full of wonder, and was just\npreparing to walk out again when the same voice bade him: 'Tread on the\nstone in the middle of the hall, and good luck will attend you.'\n\nBy this time he had grown so courageous that he did not hesitate to obey\nthe order, and hardly had he stepped on the stone than it began to sink\ngently with him into the depths below. On reaching firm ground he found\nhimself in a hall of much the same size as the upper one, but with much\nmore in it to wonder at and admire. Round the walls were several niches,\nin each of which stood glass vessels filled with some bright-coloured\nspirit or bluish smoke. On the floor stood two large crystal boxes\nopposite each other, and these attracted his curiosity at once.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nStepping up to one of them, he saw within it what looked like a model in\nminiature of a fine castle surrounded by farms, barns, stables, and a\nnumber of other buildings. Everything was quite tiny, but so beautifully\nand carefully finished that it might have been the work of an\naccomplished artist. He would have continued gazing much longer at this\nremarkable curiosity had not the voice desired him to turn round and\nlook at the crystal coffin which stood opposite.\n\nWhat was his amazement at seeing a girl of surpassing loveliness lying\nin it! She lay as though sleeping, and her long, fair hair seemed to\nwrap her round like some costly mantle. Her eyes were closed, but the\nbright colour in her face, and the movement of a ribbon, which rose and\nfell with her breath, left no doubt as to her being alive.\n\nAs the tailor stood gazing at her with a beating heart, the maiden\nsuddenly opened her eyes, and started with delighted surprise.\n\n'Great heavens!' she cried, 'my deliverance approaches! Quick, quick,\nhelp me out of my prison; only push back the bolt of this coffin and I\nam free.'\n\nThe tailor promptly obeyed, when she quickly pushed back the crystal\nlid, stepped out of the coffin and hurried to a corner of the hall, when\nshe proceeded to wrap herself in a large cloak. Then she sat down on a\nstone, desired the young man to come near, and, giving him an\naffectionate kiss, she said, 'My long-hoped-for deliverer, kind heaven\nhas led you to me, and has at length put an end to all my sufferings.\nYou are my destined husband, and, beloved by me, and endowed with every\nkind of riches and power, you shall spend the remainder of your life in\npeace and happiness. Now sit down and hear my story. I am the daughter\nof a wealthy nobleman. My parents died when I was very young, and they\nleft me to the care of my eldest brother, by whom I was carefully\neducated. We loved each other so tenderly, and our tastes and interests\nwere so much alike that we determined never to marry, but to spend our\nentire lives together. There was no lack of society at our home. Friends\nand neighbours paid us frequent visits, and we kept open house for all.\nThus it happened that one evening a stranger rode up to the castle and\nasked for hospitality, as he could not reach the nearest town that\nnight. We granted his request with ready courtesy, and during supper he\nentertained us with most agreeable conversation, mingled with amusing\nanecdotes. My brother took such a fancy to him that he pressed him to\nspend a couple of days with us, which, after a little hesitation, the\nstranger consented to do. We rose late from table, and whilst my brother\nwas showing our guest to his room I hurried to mine, for I was very\ntired and longed to get to bed. I had hardly dropped off to sleep when I\nwas roused by the sound of some soft and charming music. Wondering\nwhence it could come, I was about to call to my maid who slept in the\nroom next mine, when, to my surprise, I felt as if some heavy weight on\nmy chest had taken all power from me, and I lay there unable to utter\nthe slightest sound. Meantime, by the light of the night lamp, I saw the\nstranger enter my room, though the double doors had been securely\nlocked. He drew near and told me that through the power of his magic\narts he had caused the soft music to waken me, and had made his way\nthrough bolts and bars to offer me his hand and heart. My repugnance to\nhis magic was so great that I would not condescend to give any answer.\nHe waited motionless for some time, hoping no doubt for a favourable\nreply, but as I continued silent he angrily declared that he would find\nmeans to punish my pride, and therewith he left the room in a rage.\n\n'I spent the night in the greatest agitation, and only fell into a doze\ntowards morning. As soon as I awoke I jumped up, and hurried to tell my\nbrother all that had happened, but he had left his room, and his servant\ntold me that he had gone out at daybreak to hunt with the stranger.\n\n'My mind misgave me. I dressed in all haste, had my palfrey saddled, and\nrode of at full gallop towards the forest, attended by one servant only.\nI pushed on without pausing, and ere long I saw the stranger coming\ntowards me, and leading a fine stag. I asked him where he had left my\nbrother, and how he had got the stag, whose great eyes were overflowing\nwith tears. Instead of answering he began to laugh, and I flew into such\na rage that I drew a pistol and fired at him; but the bullet rebounded\nfrom his breast and struck my horse in the forehead. I fell to the\nground, and the stranger muttered some words, which robbed me of my\nsenses.\n\n'When I came to myself I was lying in a crystal coffin in this\nsubterranean vault. The Magician appeared again, and told me that he had\ntransformed my brother into a stag, had reduced our castle and all its\ndefences to miniature and locked them up in a glass box, and after\nturning all our household into different vapours had banished them into\nglass phials. If I would only yield to his wishes he could easily open\nthese vessels, and all would then resume their former shapes.\n\n'I would not say a word more than I had done previously, and he\nvanished, leaving me in my prison, where a deep sleep soon fell on me.\nAmongst the many dreams which floated through my brain was a cheering\none of a young man who was to come and release me, and to-day, when I\nopened my eyes, I recognised you and saw that my dream was fulfilled.\nNow help me to carry out the rest of my vision. The first thing is to\nplace the glass box which contains my castle on this large stone.'\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAs soon as this was done the stone gently rose through the air and\ntransported them into the upper hall, whence they easily carried the box\ninto the outer air. The lady then removed the lid, and it was marvellous\nto watch the castle, houses, and farmyards begin to grow and spread\nthemselves till they had regained their proper size. Then the young\ncouple returned by means of the movable stone, and brought up all the\nglass vessels filled with smoke. No sooner were they uncorked than the\nblue vapours poured out and became transformed to living people, in whom\nthe lady joyfully recognised her many servants and attendants.\n\nHer delight was complete when her brother (who had killed the Magician\nunder the form of a bull) was seen coming from the forest in his proper\nshape, and that very day, according to her promise, she gave her hand in\nmarriage to the happy young tailor.\n\n Grimm.\n\n\n\n\n _THE THREE SNAKE-LEAVES_\n\n\nThere was once a poor man who could no longer afford to keep his only\nson at home. So the son said to him, 'Dear father, you are so poor that\nI am only a burden to you; I would rather go out into the world and see\nif I can earn my own living.' The father gave him his blessing and took\nleave of him with much sorrow. About this time the King of a very\npowerful kingdom was carrying on a war; the youth therefore took service\nunder him and went on the campaign. When they came before the enemy, a\nbattle took place, there was some hot fighting, and it rained bullets so\nthickly that his comrades fell around him on all sides. And when their\nleader fell too the rest wished to take to flight; but the youth stepped\nforward and encouraged them and called out, 'We must not let our country\nbe ruined!' Then others followed him, and he pressed on and defeated the\nenemy. When the King heard that he had to thank him alone for the\nvictory, he raised him higher than anyone else in rank, gave him great\ntreasures and made him the first in the kingdom.\n\nThe King had a daughter who was very beautiful, but she was also very\ncapricious. She had made a vow to marry no one who would not promise her\nthat if she died first, he would allow himself to be buried alive with\nher. 'If he loves me truly,' she used to say, 'what use would life be to\nhim then?' At the same time she was willing to do the same, and if he\ndied first to be buried with him. This curious vow had up to this time\nfrightened away all suitors, but the young man was so captivated by her\nbeauty, that he hesitated at nothing and asked her hand of her father.\n'Do you know,' asked the King, 'what you have to promise?' 'I shall have\nto go into her grave with her,' he answered, 'if I outlive her, but my\nlove is so great that I do not think of the risk.' So the King\nconsented, and the wedding was celebrated with great splendour.\n\nNow, they lived for a long time very happily with one another, but then\nit came to pass that the young Queen fell seriously ill, and no doctor\ncould save her. And when she lay dead, the young King remembered what he\nhad promised, and it made him shudder to think of lying in her grave\nalive, but there was no escape. The King had set guards before all the\ngates, and it was not possible to avoid his fate.\n\nWhen the day arrived on which the corpse was to be laid in the royal\nvault, he was led thither, then the entrance was bolted and closed up.\n\nNear the coffin stood a table on which were placed four candles, four\nloaves of bread, and four bottles of wine. As soon as this provision\ncame to an end he would have to die. So he sat there full of grief and\nmisery, eating every day only a tiny bit of bread, and drinking only a\nmouthful of wine, and he watched death creeping nearer and nearer to\nhim. One day as he was sitting staring moodily in front of him, he saw a\nsnake creep out of the corner towards the corpse. Thinking it was going\nto touch it, he drew his sword and saying, 'As long as I am alive you\nshall not harm her,' he cut it in three pieces. After a little time a\nsecond snake crept out of the corner, but when it saw the first one\nlying dead and in pieces it went back and came again soon, holding three\ngreen leaves in its mouth. Then it took the three bits of the snake and\nlaid them in order, and put one of the leaves on each wound. Immediately\nthe pieces joined together, the snake moved itself and became alive and\nthen both hurried away. The leaves remained lying on the ground, and it\nsuddenly occurred to the unfortunate man who had seen everything, that\nthe wonderful power of the leaves might also be exercised upon a human\nbeing.\n\nSo he picked up the leaves and laid one of them on the mouth and the\nother two on the eyes of the dead woman. And scarcely had he done this,\nbefore the blood began to circulate in her veins, then it mounted and\nbrought colour back to her white face. Then she drew her breath, opened\nher eyes, and said, 'Ah! where am I?' 'You are with me, dear lady,' he\nanswered, and told her all that had happened, and how he had brought her\nto life again. He then gave her some wine and bread, and when all her\nstrength had returned she got up, and they went to the door and knocked\nand called so loudly that the guards heard them, and told the King. The\nKing came himself to open the door, and there he found both happy and\nwell, and he rejoiced with them that now all trouble was over. But the\nyoung King gave the three snake-leaves to a servant, saying to him,\n'Keep them carefully for me, and always carry them with you; who knows\nbut that they may help us in a time of need!'\n\n[Illustration]\n\nIt seemed, however, as if a change had come over the young Queen after\nshe had been restored to life, and as if all her love for her husband\nhad faded from her heart. Some time afterwards, when he wanted to take a\njourney over the sea to his old father, and they were on board the ship,\nshe forgot the great love and faithfulness he had shown her and how he\nhad saved her from death, and fell in love with the captain. And one day\nwhen the young King was lying asleep, she called the captain to her, and\nseized the head of the sleeping King and made him take his feet, and\ntogether they threw him into the sea. When they had done this wicked\ndeed, she said to him, 'Now let us go home and say that he died on the\njourney. I will praise you so much to my father that he will marry me to\nyou and make you the heir to the throne.' But the faithful servant, who\nhad seen everything, let down a little boat into the sea, unobserved by\nthem, and rowed after his master while the traitors sailed on. He took\nthe drowned man out of the water, and with the help of the three\nsnake-leaves which he carried with him, placing them on his mouth and\neyes, he brought him to life again.\n\nThey both rowed as hard as they could night and day, and their little\nboat went so quickly that they reached the old King before the other two\ndid. He was much astonished to see them come back alone, and asked what\nhad happened to them. When he heard the wickedness of his daughter, he\nsaid, 'I cannot believe that she has acted so wrongly, but the truth\nwill soon come to light.' He made them both go into a secret chamber,\nand let no one see them.\n\nSoon after this the large ship came in, and the wicked lady appeared\nbefore her father with a very sad face. He said to her, 'Why have you\ncome back alone? Where is your husband?'\n\n'Ah, dear father,' she replied, 'I have come home in great grief; my\nhusband fell ill on the voyage quite suddenly, and died, and if the good\ncaptain had not given me help, I should have died too. He was at his\ndeath-bed and can tell you everything.'\n\nThe King said, 'I will bring the dead to life again,' and he opened the\ndoor of the room and called them both out. The lady was as if\nthunderstruck when she caught sight of her husband; she fell on her\nknees and begged for mercy. But the King said, 'You shall have no mercy.\nHe was ready to die with you, and restored you to life again; but you\nkilled him when he was sleeping, and shall receive your deserts.'\n\nSo she and her accomplice were put in a ship which was bored through\nwith holes, and were drawn out into the sea, where they soon perished in\nthe waves.\n\n Grimm.\n\n\n\n\n _THE RIDDLE_\n\n\nA King's son once had a great desire to travel through the world, so he\nstarted off, taking no one with him but one trusty servant. One day he\ncame to a great forest, and as evening drew on he could find no shelter,\nand could not think where to spend the night. All of a sudden he saw a\ngirl going towards a little house, and as he drew nearer he remarked\nthat she was both young and pretty. He spoke to her, and said, 'Dear\nchild, could I and my servant spend the night in this house?'\n\n'Oh yes,' said the girl in a sad tone, 'you can if you like, but I\nshould not advise you to do so. Better not go in.'\n\n'Why not?' asked the King's son.\n\nThe girl sighed and answered, 'My stepmother deals in black arts, and\nshe is not very friendly to strangers.'\n\nThe Prince guessed easily that he had fallen on a witch's house, but as\nby this time it was quite dark and he could go no further, and as\nmoreover he was not at all afraid, he stepped in.\n\nAn old woman sat in an arm-chair near the fire, and as the strangers\nentered she turned her red eyes on them. 'Good evening,' she muttered,\nand pretending to be quite friendly. 'Won't you sit down?'\n\nShe blew up the fire on which she was cooking something in a little pot,\nand her daughter secretly warned the travellers to be very careful not\nto eat or drink anything, as the old woman's brews were apt to be\ndangerous.\n\nThey went to bed, and slept soundly till morning. When they were ready\nto start and the King's son had already mounted his horse the old woman\nsaid: 'Wait a minute, I must give you a stirrup cup.' Whilst she went to\nfetch it the King's son rode off, and the servant who had waited to\ntighten his saddle-girths was alone when the witch returned.\n\n'Take that to your master,' she said; but as she spoke the glass cracked\nand the poison spurted over the horse, and it was so powerful that the\npoor creature sank down dead. The servant ran after his master and told\nhim what had happened, and then, not wishing to lose the saddle as well\nas the horse, he went back to fetch it. When he got to the spot he saw\nthat a raven had perched on the carcase and was pecking at it. 'Who\nknows whether we shall get anything better to eat to-day!' said the\nservant, and he shot the raven and carried it off.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThen they rode on all day through the forest without coming to the end.\nAt night-fall they reached an inn, which they entered, and the servant\ngave the landlord the raven to dress for their supper. Now, as it\nhappened, this inn was a regular resort of a band of murderers, and the\nold witch too was in the habit of frequenting it.\n\nAs soon as it was dark twelve murderers arrived, with the full intention\nof killing and robbing the strangers. Before they set to work, however,\nthey sat down to table, and the landlord and the old witch joined them,\nand they all ate some broth in which the flesh of the raven had been\nstewed down. They had hardly taken a couple of spoonfuls when they all\nfell down dead, for the poison had passed from the horse to the raven\nand so into the broth. So there was no one left belonging to the house\nbut the landlord's daughter, who was a good, well-meaning girl, and had\ntaken no part in all the evil doings.\n\nShe opened all the doors, and showed the strangers the treasures the\nrobbers had gathered together; but the Prince bade her keep them all for\nherself, as he wanted none of them, and so he rode further with his\nservant.\n\nAfter travelling about for some length of time they reached a town where\nlived a lovely but most arrogant Princess. She had given out that anyone\nwho asked her a riddle which she found herself unable to guess should be\nher husband, but should she guess it he must forfeit his head. She\nclaimed three days in which to think over the riddles, but she was so\nvery clever that she invariably guessed them in a much shorter time.\nNine suitors had already lost their lives when the King's son arrived,\nand, dazzled by her beauty, determined to risk his life in hopes of\nwinning her.\n\nSo he came before her and propounded his riddle. 'What is this?' he\nasked. 'One slew none and yet killed twelve.'\n\nShe could not think what it was! She thought, and thought, and looked\nthrough all her books of riddles and puzzles, but she found nothing to\nhelp her, and could not guess; in fact, she was at her wits' end. As she\ncould think of no way to guess the riddle, she ordered her maid to steal\nat night into the Prince's bedroom and to listen, for she thought that\nhe might perhaps talk aloud in his dreams and so betray the secret. But\nthe clever servant had taken his master's place, and when the maid came\nhe tore off the cloak she had wrapped herself in and hunted her off with\na whip.\n\nOn the second night the Princess sent her lady-in-waiting, hoping that\nshe might succeed better, but the servant took away her mantle and\nchased her away also.\n\nOn the third night the King's son thought he really might feel safe, so\nhe went to bed. But in the middle of the night the Princess came\nherself, all huddled up in a misty grey mantle, and sat down near him.\nWhen she thought he was fast asleep, she spoke to him, hoping he would\nanswer in the midst of his dreams, as many people do; but he was wide\nawake all the time, and heard and understood everything very well.\n\nThen she asked: 'One slew none--what is that?' and he answered: 'A raven\nwhich fed on the carcase of a poisoned horse.'\n\nShe went on: 'And yet killed twelve--what is that?' 'Those are twelve\nmurderers who ate the raven and died of it.'\n\nAs soon as she knew the riddle she tried to slip away, but he held her\nmantle so tightly that she was obliged to leave it behind.\n\nNext morning the Princess announced that she had guessed the riddle, and\nsent for the twelve judges, before whom she declared it. But the young\nman begged to be heard, too, and said: 'She came by night to question\nme, otherwise she never could have guessed it.'\n\nThe judges said: 'Bring us some proof.' So the servant brought out the\nthree cloaks, and when the judges saw the grey one, which the Princess\nwas in the habit of wearing, they said: 'Let it be embroidered with gold\nand silver; it shall be your wedding mantle.'\n\n Grimm.\n\n\n\n\n _JACK MY HEDGEHOG_\n\n\nThere was once a farmer who lived in great comfort. He had both lands\nand money, but, though he was so well off, one thing was wanting to\ncomplete his happiness; he had no children. Many and many a time, when\nhe met other farmers at the nearest market town, they would teaze him,\nasking how it came about that he was childless. At length he grew so\nangry that he exclaimed: 'I must and will have a child of some sort or\nkind, even should it only be a hedgehog!'\n\nNot long after this his wife gave birth to a child, but though the lower\nhalf of the little creature was a fine boy, from the waist upwards it\nwas a hedgehog, so that when his mother first saw him she was quite\nfrightened, and said to her husband, 'There now, you have cursed the\nchild yourself.' The farmer said, 'What's the use of making a fuss? I\nsuppose the creature must be christened, but I don't see how we are to\nask anyone to be sponsor to him, and what are we to call him?'\n\n'There is nothing we can possibly call him but Jack my Hedgehog,'\nreplied the wife.\n\nSo they took him to be christened, and the parson said: You'll never be\nable to put that child in a decent bed on account of his prickles.'\nWhich was true, but they shook down some straw for him behind the stove,\nand there he lay for eight years. His father grew very tired of him and\noften wished him dead, but he did not die, but lay on there year after\nyear.\n\nNow one day there was a big fair at the market town to which the farmer\nmeant to go, so he asked his wife what he should bring her from it.\n'Some meat and a couple of big loaves for the house,' said she. Then he\nasked the maid what she wanted, and she said a pair of slippers and some\nstockings. Lastly he said, 'Well, Jack my Hedgehog, and what shall I\nbring you?'\n\n'Daddy,' said he, 'do bring me a bagpipe.' When the farmer came home he\ngave his wife and the maid the things they had asked for, and then he\nwent behind the stove and gave Jack my Hedgehog the bagpipes.\n\nWhen Jack had got his bagpipes he said, 'Daddy, do go to the smithy and\nhave the house cock shod for me; then I'll ride off and trouble you no\nmore.' His father, who was delighted at the prospect of getting rid of\nhim, had the cock shod, and when it was ready Jack my Hedgehog mounted\non its back and rode off to the forest, followed by all the pigs and\nasses which he had promised to look after.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nHaving reached the forest he made the cock fly up to the top of a very\ntall tree with him, and there he sat looking after his pigs and donkeys,\nand he sat on and on for several years till he had quite a big herd; but\nall this time his father knew nothing about him.\n\nAs he sat up in his tree he played away on his pipes and drew the\nloveliest music from them. As he was playing one day a King, who had\nlost his way, happened to pass close by, and hearing the music he was\nmuch surprised, and sent one of his servants to find out where it came\nfrom. The man peered about, but he could see nothing but a little\ncreature which looked like a cock with a hedgehog sitting on it, perched\nup in a tree. The King desired the servant to ask the strange creature\nwhy it sat there, and if it knew the shortest way to his kingdom.\n\nOn this Jack my Hedgehog stepped down from his tree and said he would\nundertake to show the King his way home if the King on his part would\ngive him his written promise to let him have whatever first met him on\nhis return.\n\nThe King thought to himself, 'That's easy enough to promise. The\ncreature won't understand a word about it, so I can just write what I\nchoose.'\n\n[Illustration]\n\nSo he took pen and ink and wrote something, and when he had done Jack my\nHedgehog pointed out the way and the King got safely home.\n\nNow when the King's daughter saw her father returning in the distance\nshe was so delighted that she ran to meet him and threw herself into his\narms. Then the King remembered Jack my Hedgehog, and he told his\ndaughter how he had been obliged to give a written promise to bestow\nwhatever he first met when he got home on an extraordinary creature\nwhich had shown him the way. The creature, said he, rode on a cock as\nthough it had been a horse, and it made lovely music, but as it\ncertainly could not read he had just written that he would _not_ give it\nanything at all. At this the Princess was quite pleased, and said how\ncleverly her father had managed, for that of course nothing would induce\nher to have gone off with Jack my Hedgehog.\n\nMeantime Jack minded his asses and pigs, sat aloft in his tree, played\nhis bagpipes, and was always merry and cheery. After a time it so\nhappened that another King, having lost his way, passed by with his\nservants and escort, wondering how he could find his way home, for the\nforest was very vast. He too heard the music, and told one of his men to\nfind out whence it came. The man came under the tree, and looking up to\nthe top there he saw Jack my Hedgehog astride on the cock.\n\nThe servant asked Jack what he was doing up there. 'I'm minding my pigs\nand donkeys; but what do you want?' was the reply. Then the servant told\nhim they had lost their way, and wanted some one to show it them. Down\ncame Jack my Hedgehog with his cock, and told the old King he would show\nhim the right way if he would solemnly promise to give him the first\nthing he met in front of his royal castle.\n\nThe King said 'Yes,' and gave Jack a written promise to that effect.\n\nThen Jack rode on in front pointing out the way, and the King reached\nhis own country in safety.\n\nNow he had an only daughter who was extremely beautiful, and who,\ndelighted at her father's return, ran to meet him, threw her arms round\nhis neck and kissed him heartily. Then she asked where he had been\nwandering so long, and he told her how he had lost his way and might\nnever have reached home at all but for a strange creature, half-man,\nhalf-hedgehog, which rode a cock and sat up in a tree making lovely\nmusic, and which had shown him the right way. He also told her how he\nhad been obliged to pledge his word to give the creature the first thing\nwhich met him outside his castle gate, and he felt very sad at the\nthought that she had been the first thing to meet him.\n\nBut the Princess comforted him, and said she should be quite willing to\ngo with Jack my Hedgehog whenever he came to fetch her, because of the\ngreat love she bore to her dear old father.\n\nJack my Hedgehog continued to herd his pigs, and they increased in\nnumber till there were so many that the forest seemed full of them. So\nhe made up his mind to live there no longer, and sent a message to his\nfather telling him to have all the stables and outhouses in the village\ncleared, as he was going to bring such an enormous herd that all who\nwould might kill what they chose. His father was much vexed at this\nnews, for he thought Jack had died long ago. Jack my Hedgehog mounted\nhis cock, and driving his pigs before him into the village, he let every\none kill as many as they chose, and such a hacking and hewing of pork\nwent on as you might have heard for miles off.\n\nThen said Jack, 'Daddy, let the blacksmith shoe my cock once more; then\nI'll ride off, and I promise you I'll never come back again as long as I\nlive.' So the father had the cock shod, and rejoiced at the idea of\ngetting rid of his son.\n\nThen Jack my Hedgehog set off for the first kingdom, and there the King\nhad given strict orders that if anyone should be seen riding a cock and\ncarrying a bagpipe he was to be chased away and shot at, and on no\naccount to be allowed to enter the palace. So when Jack my Hedgehog rode\nup the guards charged him with their bayonets, but he put spurs to his\ncock, flew up over the gate right to the King's windows, let himself\ndown on the sill, and called out that if he was not given what had been\npromised him, both the King and his daughter should pay for it with\ntheir lives. Then the King coaxed and entreated his daughter to go with\nJack and so save both their lives.\n\nThe Princess dressed herself all in white, and her father gave her a\ncoach with six horses and servants in gorgeous liveries and quantities\nof money. She stepped into the coach, and Jack my Hedgehog with his cock\nand pipes took his place beside her. They both took leave, and the King\nfully expected never to set eyes on them again. But matters turned out\nvery differently from what he had expected, for when they had got a\ncertain distance from the town Jack tore all the Princess's smart\nclothes off her, and pricked her all over with his bristles, saying:\n'That's what you get for treachery. Now go back, I'll have no more to\nsay to you.' And with that he hunted her home, and she felt she had been\ndisgraced and put to shame till her life's end.\n\nThen Jack my Hedgehog rode on with his cock and bagpipes to the country\nof the second King to whom he had shown the way. Now this King had given\norders that, in the event of Jack's coming the guards were to present\narms, the people to cheer, and he was to be conducted in triumph to the\nroyal palace.\n\nWhen the King's daughter saw Jack my Hedgehog, she was a good deal\nstartled, for he certainly was very peculiar looking; but after all she\nconsidered that she had given her word and it couldn't be helped. So she\nmade Jack welcome and they were betrothed to each other, and at dinner\nhe sat next her at the royal table, and they ate and drank together.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nWhen they retired to rest the Princess feared lest Jack should kiss her\nbecause of his prickles, but he told her not to be alarmed as no harm\nshould befall her. Then he begged the old King to place a watch of four\nmen just outside his bedroom door, and to desire them to make a big\nfire. When he was about to lie down in bed he would creep out of his\nhedgehog skin, and leave it lying at the bedside; then the men must rush\nin, throw the skin into the fire, and stand by till it was entirely\nburnt up.\n\nAnd so it was, for when it struck eleven, Jack my Hedgehog went to his\nroom, took off his skin and left it at the foot of the bed. The men\nrushed in, quickly seized the skin and threw it on the fire, and\ndirectly it was all burnt Jack was released from his enchantment and lay\nin his bed a man from head to foot, but quite black as though he had\nbeen severely scorched.\n\nThe King sent off for his physician in ordinary, who washed Jack all\nover with various essences and salves, so that he became white and was a\nremarkably handsome young man. When the King's daughter saw him she was\ngreatly pleased, and next day the marriage ceremony was performed, and\nthe old King bestowed his kingdom on Jack my Hedgehog.\n\nAfter some years Jack and his wife went to visit his father, but the\nfarmer did not recognise him, and declared he had no son; he had had\none, but that one was born with bristles like a hedgehog, and had gone\noff into the wide world. Then Jack told his story, and his old father\nrejoiced and returned to live with him in his kingdom.\n\n Grimm.\n\n\n\n\n _THE GOLDEN LADS_\n\n\nA poor man and his wife lived in a little cottage, where they supported\nthemselves by catching fish in the nearest river, and got on as best\nthey could, living from hand to mouth. One day it happened that when the\nfisherman drew in his net he found in it a remarkable fish, for it was\nentirely of gold. As he was inspecting it with some surprise, the fish\nopened its mouth and said: 'Listen to me, fisher; if you will just throw\nme back into the water I'll turn your poor little cottage into a\nsplendid castle.'\n\nThe fisher replied: 'What good, pray, will a castle be to me if I have\nnothing to eat in it?'\n\n'Oh,' said the gold fish, 'I'll take care of that. There will be a\ncupboard in the castle, in which you will find dishes of every kind of\nfood you can wish for most.'\n\n'If that's the case,' said the man, 'I've no objection to oblige you.'\n\n'Yes,' observed the fish, 'but there is one condition attached to my\noffer, and that is that you are not to reveal to a soul where your good\nfortune comes from. If you say a word about it, it will all vanish.'\n\nThe man threw the fish back into the water, and went home. But on the\nspot where his cottage used to stand he found a spacious castle. He\nopened his eyes wide, went in and found his wife dressed out in smart\nclothes, sitting in a splendidly furnished drawing-room. She was in high\nspirits, and cried out: 'Oh husband! how can this all have happened? I\nam so pleased!'\n\n'Yes,' said her husband, 'so am I pleased; but I'm uncommonly hungry,\nand I want something to eat at once.'\n\nSaid his wife, 'I've got nothing, and I don't know where anything is in\nthis new house.'\n\n'Never mind,' replied the man. 'I see a big cupboard there. Suppose you\nunlock it.'\n\nWhen the cupboard was opened they found meat, cakes, fruit, and wine,\nall spread out in the most tempting fashions. The wife clapped her hands\nwith joy, and cried: 'Dear heart! what more can one wish for?' and they\nsat down and ate and drank.\n\nWhen they had finished the wife asked, 'But husband, where do all these\nriches come from?'\n\n[Illustration]\n\n'Ah!' said he, 'don't ask me. I dare not tell you. If I reveal the\nsecret to anyone, it will be all up with us.'\n\n'Very well,' she replied, 'if I'm not to be told, of course I don't want\nto know anything about it.'\n\nBut she was not really in earnest, for her curiosity never left her a\nmoment's peace by day or night, and she teazed and worried her husband\nto such a pitch, that at length he quite lost patience and blurted out\nthat it all came from a wonderful golden fish which he had caught and\nset free again. Hardly were the words well out of his mouth, when\ncastle, cupboard, and all vanished, and there they were sitting in their\npoor little fishing hut once more.\n\nThe man had to betake himself to his former trade, and set to fishing\nagain. As luck would have it, he caught the golden fish a second time.\n\n'Now listen,' said the fish, 'if you'll throw me back into the water,\nI'll give you back the castle and the cupboard with all its good things;\nbut now take care, and don't for your life betray where you got them, or\nyou'll just lose them again.'\n\n'I'll be very careful,' promised the fisher, and threw the fish back\ninto the water. When he went home he found all their former splendour\nrestored, and his wife overjoyed at their good fortune. But her\ncuriosity still continued to torment her, and after restraining it with\na great effort for a couple of days, she began questioning her husband\nagain, as to what had happened, and how he had managed.\n\nThe man kept silence for some time, but at last she irritated him so\nmuch that he burst out with the secret, and in one moment the castle was\ngone, and they sat once more in their wretched old hut.\n\n'There!' exclaimed the man, 'you _would_ have it--now we may just go on\nshort commons.'\n\n'Ah!' said his wife, 'after all I'd rather not have all the riches in\nthe world if I can't know where they come from--I shall not have a\nmoment's peace.'\n\nThe man took to his fishing again, and one day fate brought the gold\nfish into his net for the third time. 'Well,' said the fish, 'I see that\nI am evidently destined to fall into your hands. Now take me home, and\ncut me into six pieces. Give two bits to your wife to eat, two to your\nhorse, and plant the remaining two in your garden, and they will bring\nyou a blessing.'\n\nThe man carried the fish home, and did exactly as he had been told.\nAfter a time, it came to pass that from the two pieces he had planted in\nthe garden two golden lilies grew up, and that his horse had two golden\nfoals, whilst his wife gave birth to twin boys who were all golden.\n\nThe children grew up both tall and handsome, and the foals and the\nlilies grew with them.\n\nOne day the children came to their father and said, 'Father, we want to\nmount on golden steeds, and ride forth to see the world.'\n\nTheir father answered sadly, 'How can I bear it if, when you are far\naway, I know nothing about you?' and they said, 'The golden lilies will\ntell you all about us if you look at them. If they seem to droop, you\nwill know we are ill, and if they fall down and fade away, it will be a\nsign we are dead.'\n\nSo off they rode, and came to an inn where were a number of people who,\nas soon as they saw the two golden lads, began to laugh and jeer at\nthem. When one of them heard this, his heart failed him, and he thought\nhe would go no further into the world, so he turned back and rode home\nto his father, but his brother rode on till he reached the outskirts of\na huge forest. Here he was told, 'It will never do for you to ride\nthrough the forest, it is full of robbers, and you're sure to come to\ngrief, especially when they see that you and your horse are golden. They\nwill certainly fall on you and kill you.' However, he was not to be\nintimidated, but said, 'I must and will ride on.'\n\nSo he procured some bears' skins, and covered himself and his horse with\nthem, so that not a particle of gold could be seen, and then rode\nbravely on into the heart of the forest.\n\nWhen he had got some way he heard a rustling through the bushes and\npresently a sound of voices. Someone whispered on one side of him:\n'There goes someone,' and was answered from the other side: 'Oh, let him\npass. He's only a bear-keeper, and as poor as any church mouse.' So\ngolden lad rode through the forest and no harm befell him.\n\nOne day he came to a village, where he saw a girl who struck him as\nbeing the loveliest creature in the whole world, and as he felt a great\nlove for her, he went up to her and said: 'I love you with all my heart;\nwill you be my wife?' And the girl liked him so much that she put her\nhand in his and replied: 'Yes, I will be your wife, and will be true to\nyou as long as I live.'\n\nSo they were married, and in the middle of all the festivities and\nrejoicings the bride's father came home and was not a little surprised\nat finding his daughter celebrating her wedding. He enquired: 'And who\nis the bridegroom?'\n\nThen someone pointed out to him the golden lad, who was still wrapped up\nin the bear's skin, and the father exclaimed angrily: 'Never shall a\nmere bear-keeper have my daughter,' and tried to rush at him and kill\nhim. But the bride did all she could to pacify him, and begged hard,\nsaying: 'After all he is my husband, and I love him with all my heart,'\nso that at length he gave in.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nHowever, he could not dismiss the thought from his mind, and next\nmorning he rose very early, for he felt he must go and look at his\ndaughter's husband and see whether he really was nothing better than a\nmere ragged beggar. So he went to his son-in-law's room, and who should\nhe see lying in the bed but a splendid golden man, and the rough\nbearskin thrown on the ground close by. Then he slipped quietly away,\nand thought to himself, 'How lucky that I managed to control my rage! I\nshould certainly have committed a great crime.'\n\nMeantime the golden lad dreamt that he was out hunting and was giving\nchase to a noble stag, and when he woke he said to his bride: 'I must go\noff and hunt.' She felt very anxious, and begged he would stay at home,\nadding: 'Some mishap might so easily befall you,' but he answered, 'I\nmust and will go.'\n\nSo he went off into the forest, and before long a fine stag, such as he\nhad seen in his dream, stopped just in front of him. He took aim, and\nwas about to fire when the stag bounded away. Then he started off in\npursuit, making his way through bushes and briars, and never stopped all\nday; but in the evening the stag entirely disappeared, and when golden\nlad came to look about him he found himself just opposite a hut in which\nlived a witch. He knocked at the door, which was opened by a little old\nwoman who asked, 'What do you want at this late hour in the midst of\nthis great forest?'\n\nHe said, 'Haven't you seen a stag about here?'\n\n'Yes,' said she, 'I know the stag well,' and as she spoke a little dog\nran out of the house and began barking and snapping at the stranger.\n\n'Be quiet, you little toad,' he cried, 'or I'll shoot you dead.'\n\nThen the witch flew into a great rage, and screamed out, 'What! you'll\nkill my dog, will you?' and the next moment he was turned to stone and\nlay there immovable, whilst his bride waited for him in vain and thought\nto herself, 'Alas! no doubt the evil I feared, and which has made my\nheart so heavy, has befallen him.'\n\nMeantime, the other brother was standing near the golden lilies at home,\nwhen suddenly one of them bent over and fell to the ground. 'Good\nheavens!' cried he, 'some great misfortune has befallen my brother. I\nmust set off at once; perhaps I may still be in time to save him.'\n\nHis father entreated him, 'Stay at home. If I should lose you too, what\nwould become of me?'\n\nBut his son replied, 'I must and will go.'\n\nThen he mounted his golden horse, and rode off till he reached the\nforest where his brother lay transformed to stone. The old witch came\nout of her house and called to him, for she would gladly have cast her\nspells on him too, but he took care not to go near her, and called out:\n'Restore my brother to life at once, or I'll shoot you down on the\nspot.'\n\nReluctantly she touched the stone with her finger, and in a moment it\nresumed its human shape. The two golden lads fell into each other's arms\nand kissed each other with joy, and then rode off together to the edge\nof the forest, where they parted, one to return to his old father, and\nthe other to his bride.\n\nWhen the former got home his father said, 'I knew you had delivered your\nbrother, for all of a sudden the golden lily reared itself up and burst\ninto blossom.'\n\nThen they all lived happily to their lives' ends, and all things went\nwell with them.\n\nGrimm.\n\n\n\n\n _THE WHITE SNAKE_\n\n\nNot very long ago there lived a King, the fame of whose wisdom was\nspread far and wide. Nothing appeared to be unknown to him, and it\nreally seemed as if tidings of the most secret matters must be borne to\nhim by the winds. He had one very peculiar habit. Every day, after the\ndinner table had been cleared, and everyone had retired, a confidential\nservant brought in a dish. It was covered, and neither the servant nor\nanyone else had any idea what was on it, for the King never removed the\ncover or partook of the dish, till he was quite alone.\n\nThis went on for some time till, one day, the servant who removed the\ndish was so overcome with curiosity, that he could not resist carrying\nit off to his own room. After carefully locking the door, he lifted the\ncover, and there he saw a white snake lying on the dish. On seeing it he\ncould not restrain his desire to taste it, so he cut off a small piece\nand put it in his mouth.\n\nHardly had it touched his tongue than he heard a strange sort of\nwhispering of tiny voices outside his window. He stepped to the casement\nto listen, and found that the sound proceeded from the sparrows, who\nwere talking together and telling each other all they had seen in the\nfields and woods. The piece of the white snake which he had eaten had\nenabled him to understand the language of animals.\n\nNow on this particular day, it so happened that the Queen lost her\nfavourite ring, and suspicion fell on the confidential servant who had\naccess to all parts of the palace. The King sent for him, and threatened\nhim angrily, saying that if he had not found the thief by the next day,\nhe should himself be taken up and tried.\n\nIt was useless to assert his innocence; he was dismissed without\nceremony. In his agitation and distress, he went down to the yard to\nthink over what he could do in this trouble. Here were a number of ducks\nresting near a little stream, and pluming themselves with their bills,\nwhilst they kept up an animated conversation amongst themselves. The\nservant stood still listening to them. They were talking of where they\nhad been waddling about all the morning, and of the good food they had\nfound, but one of them remarked rather sadly, 'There's something lying\nvery heavy on my stomach, for in my haste I've swallowed a ring, which\nwas lying just under the Queen's window.'\n\n[Illustration]\n\nNo sooner did the servant hear this than he seized the duck by the neck,\ncarried it off to the kitchen, and said to the cook, 'Suppose you kill\nthis duck; you see she's nice and fat.'\n\n'Yes, indeed,' said the cook, weighing the duck in his hand, 'she\ncertainly has spared no pains to stuff herself well, and must have been\nwaiting for the spit for some time.' So he chopped off her head, and\nwhen she was opened there was the Queen's ring in her stomach.\n\nIt was easy enough now for the servant to prove his innocence, and the\nKing, feeling he had done him an injustice, and anxious to make some\namends, desired him to ask any favour he chose, and promised to give him\nthe highest post at Court he could wish for.\n\nThe servant, however, declined everything, and only begged for a horse\nand some money to enable him to travel, as he was anxious to see\nsomething of the world.\n\nWhen his request was granted, he set off on his journey, and in the\ncourse of it he one day came to a large pond, on the edge of which he\nnoticed three fishes which had got entangled in the reeds and were\ngasping for water. Though fish are generally supposed to be quite mute,\nhe heard them grieving aloud at the prospect of dying in this wretched\nmanner. Having a very kind heart he dismounted and soon set the\nprisoners free, and in the water once more. They flapped with joy, and\nstretching up their heads cried to him: 'We will remember, and reward\nyou for saving us.'\n\nHe rode further, and after a while he thought he heard a voice in the\nsand under his feet. He paused to listen, and heard the King of the Ants\ncomplaining: 'If only men with their awkward beasts would keep clear of\nus! That stupid horse is crushing my people mercilessly to death with\nhis great hoofs.' The servant at once turned into a side path, and the\nAnt-King called after him, 'We'll remember and reward you.'\n\nThe road next led through a wood, where he saw a father and a mother\nraven standing by their nest and throwing out their young: 'Away with\nyou, you young rascals!' they cried, 'we can't feed you any longer. You\nare quite big enough to support yourselves now.' The poor little birds\nlay on the ground flapping and beating their wings, and shrieked, 'We\npoor helpless children, feed ourselves indeed! Why, we can't even fly\nyet; what can we do but die of hunger?' Then the kind youth dismounted,\ndrew his sword, and killing his horse left it there as food for the\nyoung ravens. They hopped up, satisfied their hunger, and piped: 'We'll\nremember, and reward you!'\n\nHe was now obliged to trust to his own legs, and after walking a long\nway he reached a big town. Here he found a great crowd and much\ncommotion in the streets, and a herald rode about announcing, 'The\nKing's daughter seeks a husband, but whoever would woo her must first\nexecute a difficult task, and if he does not succeed he must be content\nto forfeit his life.' Many had risked their lives, but in vain. When the\nyouth saw the King's daughter, he was so dazzled by her beauty, that he\nforgot all idea of danger, and went to the King to announce himself a\nsuitor.\n\nOn this he was led out to a large lake, and a gold ring was thrown into\nit before his eyes. The King desired him to dive after it, adding, 'If\nyou return without it you will be thrown back into the lake time after\ntime, till you are drowned in its depths.'\n\nEveryone felt sorry for the handsome young fellow, and left him alone on\nthe shore. There he stood thinking and wondering what he could do, when\nall of a sudden he saw three fishes swimming along, and recognised them\nas the very same whose lives he had saved. The middle fish held a mussel\nin its mouth, which it laid at the young man's feet, and when he picked\nit up and opened it, there was the golden ring inside.\n\nFull of delight he brought it to the King's daughter, expecting to\nreceive his promised reward. The haughty Princess, however, on hearing\nthat he was not her equal by birth despised him, and exacted the\nfulfilment of a second task.\n\nShe went into the garden, and with her own hands she strewed ten sacks\nfull of millet all over the grass. 'He must pick all that up to-morrow\nmorning before sunrise,' she said; 'not a grain must be lost.'\n\nThe youth sat down in the garden and wondered how it would be possible\nfor him to accomplish such a task, but he could think of no expedient,\nand sat there sadly expecting to meet his death at daybreak.\n\nBut when the first rays of the rising sun fell on the garden, he saw the\nten sacks all completely filled, standing there in a row, and not a\nsingle grain missing. The Ant-King, with his thousands and thousands of\nfollowers, had come during the night, and the grateful creatures had\nindustriously gathered all the millet together and put it in the sacks.\n\nThe King's daughter came down to the garden herself, and saw to her\namazement that her suitor had accomplished the task she had given him.\nBut even now she could not bend her proud heart, and she said, 'Though\nhe has executed these two tasks, yet he shall not be my husband till he\nbrings me an apple from the tree of life.'\n\nThe young man did not even know where the tree of life grew, but he set\noff, determined to walk as far as his legs would carry him, though he\nhad no hope of ever finding it.\n\nAfter journeying through three different kingdoms he reached a wood one\nnight, and lying down under a tree prepared to go to sleep there.\nSuddenly he heard a sound in the boughs, and a golden apple fell right\ninto his hand. At the same moment three ravens flew down to him,\nperched on his knee and said, 'We are the three young ravens whom you\nsaved from starvation. When we grew up and heard you were searching for\nthe golden apple, we flew far away over the seas to the end of the\nworld, where the tree of life grows, and fetched the golden apple for\nyou.'\n\n[Illustration]\n\nFull of joy the young man started on his way back and brought the golden\napple to the lovely Princess, whose objections were now entirely\nsilenced. They divided the apple of life and ate it together, and her\nheart grew full of love for him, so they lived together to a great age\nin undisturbed happiness.\n\n Grimm.\n\n\n\n\n _THE STORY OF A CLEVER TAILOR_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived an exceedingly proud Princess. If any\nsuitor for her hand ventured to present himself, she would give him some\nriddle or conundrum to guess, and if he failed to do so, he was hunted\nout of the town with scorn and derision. She gave out publicly that all\ncomers were welcome to try their skill, and that whoever could solve her\nriddle should be her husband.\n\nNow it happened that three tailors had met together, and the two elder\nthought, that after having successfully put in so many fine and strong\nstitches with never a wrong one amongst them, they were certain to do\nthe right thing here too. The third tailor was a lazy young scamp who\ndid not even know his own trade properly, but who thought that surely\nluck would stand by him now, just for once, for, if not, what _was_ to\nbecome of him?\n\nThe two others said to him, 'You just stay at home, you'll never get on\nmuch with your small allowance of brains.' But the little tailor was not\nto be daunted, and said he had set his mind on it and meant to shift for\nhimself, so off he started as though the whole world belonged to him.\n\nThe three tailors arrived at Court, where they had themselves duly\npresented to the Princess, and begged she would propound her riddles,\n'for,' said they, 'here were the right men at last, with wits so sharp\nand so fine you might almost thread a needle with them.'\n\nThen said the Princess, 'I have on my head two different kinds of hair.\nOf what colours are they?'\n\n'If that's all,' said the first tailor, 'they are most likely black and\nwhite, like the kind of cloth we call pepper-and-salt.'\n\n'Wrong,' said the Princess.\n\n'Then,' said the second tailor, 'if they are not black and white, no\ndoubt they are red and brown, like my father's Sunday coat.'\n\n'Wrong again,' said the Princess; 'now let the third speak. I see he\nthinks he knows all about it.'\n\nThen the young tailor stepped boldly to the front and said, 'The\nPrincess has one silver and one golden hair on her head, and those are\nthe two colours.'\n\nWhen the Princess heard this she turned quite pale, and almost fainted\naway with fear, for the little tailor had hit the mark, and she had\nfirmly believed that not a soul could guess it. When she had recovered\nherself she said, 'Don't fancy you have won me yet, there is something\nelse you must do first. Below in the stable is a bear with whom you must\nspend the night, and if when I get up in the morning I find you still\nalive you shall marry me.'\n\nShe quite expected to rid herself of the tailor in this way, for the\nbear had never left anyone alive who had once come within reach of his\nclaws. The tailor, however, had no notion of being scared, but said\ncheerily, 'Bravely dared is half won.'\n\nWhen evening came on he was taken to the stable. The bear tried to get\nat him at once and to give him a warm welcome with his great paws.\n'Gently, gently,' said the tailor, 'I'll soon teach you to be quiet,'\nand he coolly drew a handful of walnuts from his pocket and began\ncracking and eating them as though he had not a care or anxiety in the\nworld. When the bear saw this he began to long for some nuts himself.\nThe tailor dived into his pocket and gave him a handful, but they were\npebbles, not nuts. The bear thrust them into his mouth, but try as he\nmight he could not manage to crack them. 'Dear me,' thought he, 'what a\nstupid fool I must be--can't even crack a nut,' and he said to the\ntailor, 'I say, crack my nuts for me, will you?'\n\n'You're a nice sort of fellow,' said the tailor; 'the idea of having\nthose great jaws and not being able even to crack a walnut!' So he took\nthe stone, quickly changed it for a nut, and crack! it split open in a\nmoment.\n\n'Let me try again,' said the bear; 'when I see the thing done it looks\nso easy I fancy I _must_ be able to manage it myself.'\n\nSo the tailor gave him some more pebbles, and the bear bit and gnawed\naway as hard as he could, but I need hardly say that he did not succeed\nin cracking one of them.\n\nPresently the tailor took out a little fiddle and began playing on it.\nWhen the bear heard the music he could not help dancing, and after he\nhad danced some time he was so pleased that he said to the tailor, 'I\nsay, is fiddling difficult?' 'Mere child's play,' replied the tailor;\n'look here! you press the strings with the fingers of the left hand, and\nwith the right you draw the bow across them, so--then it goes as easily\nas possible, up and down, tra la la la la--'\n\n'Oh,' cried the bear, 'I do wish I could play like that, then I could\ndance whenever the fancy took me. What do you think? Would you give me\nsome lessons?'\n\n[Illustration]\n\n'With all my heart,' said the tailor, 'if you are sharp about it. But\njust let me look at your paws. Dear me, your nails are terribly long; I\nmust really cut them first.' Then he fetched a pair of stocks, and the\nbear laid his paws on them, and the tailor screwed them up tight. 'Now\njust wait whilst I fetch my scissors,' said he, and left the bear\ngrowling away to his heart's content, whilst he lay down in a corner and\nfell fast asleep.\n\nWhen the Princess heard the bear growling so loud that night, she made\nsure he was roaring with delight as he worried the tailor. Next morning\nshe rose feeling quite cheerful and free from care, but when she looked\nacross towards the stables, there stood the tailor in front of the door\nlooking as fresh and lively as a fish in the water.\n\nAfter this it was impossible to break the promise she had made so\npublicly, so the King ordered out the state coach to take her and the\ntailor to church to be married.\n\nAs they were starting, the two bad-hearted other tailors, who were\nenvious of the younger one's happiness, went to the stable and unscrewed\nthe bear. Off he tore after the carriage, foaming with rage. The\nPrincess heard his puffing and roaring, and growing frightened she\ncried: 'Oh dear! the bear is after us and will certainly catch us up!'\nThe tailor remained quite unmoved. He quietly stood on his head, stuck\nhis legs out at the carriage window and called out to the bear, 'Do you\nsee my stocks? If you don't go home this minute I'll screw you tight\ninto them.'\n\nWhen the bear saw and heard this he turned right round and ran off as\nfast as his legs would carry him. The tailor drove on unmolested to\nchurch, where he and the Princess were married, and he lived with her\nmany years as happy and merry as a lark. Whoever does not believe this\nstory must pay a dollar.\n\n Grimm.\n\n\n\n\n _THE GOLDEN MERMAID_\n\n\nA powerful king had, among many other treasures, a wonderful tree in his\ngarden, which bore every year beautiful golden apples. But the King was\nnever able to enjoy his treasure, for he might watch and guard them as\nhe liked, as soon as they began to get ripe they were always stolen. At\nlast, in despair, he sent for his three sons, and said to the two\neldest, 'Get yourselves ready for a journey. Take gold and silver with\nyou, and a large retinue of servants, as beseems two noble princes, and\ngo through the world till you find out who it is that steals my golden\napples, and, if possible, bring the thief to me that I may punish him as\nhe deserves.' His sons were delighted at this proposal, for they had\nlong wished to see something of the world, so they got ready for their\njourney with all haste, bade their father farewell, and left the town.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe youngest Prince was much disappointed that he too was not sent out\non his travels; but his father wouldn't hear of his going, for he had\nalways been looked upon as the stupid one of the family, and the King\nwas afraid of something happening to him. But the Prince begged and\nimplored so long, that at last his father consented to let him go, and\nfurnished him with gold and silver as he had done his brothers. But he\ngave him the most wretched horse in his stable, because the foolish\nyouth hadn't asked for a better. So he too set out on his journey to\nsecure the thief, amid the jeers and laughter of the whole court and\ntown.\n\nHis path led him first through a wood, and he hadn't gone very far when\nhe met a lean-looking wolf who stood still as he approached. The Prince\nasked him if he were hungry, and when the wolf said he was, he got down\nfrom his horse and said, 'If you are really as you say and look, you may\ntake my horse and eat it.'\n\nThe wolf didn't wait to have the offer repeated, but set to work, and\nsoon made an end of the poor beast. When the Prince saw how different\nthe wolf looked when he had finished his meal, he said to him, 'Now, my\nfriend, since you have eaten up my horse, and I have such a long way to\ngo, that, with the best will in the world, I couldn't manage it on foot,\nthe least you can do for me is to act as my horse and to take me on your\nback.'\n\n'Most certainly,' said the wolf, and, letting the Prince mount him, he\ntrotted gaily through the wood. After they had gone a little way he\nturned round and asked his rider where he wanted to go to, and the\nPrince proceeded to tell him the whole story of the golden apples that\nhad been stolen out of the King's garden, and how his other two brothers\nhad set forth with many followers to find the thief. When he had\nfinished his story, the wolf, who was in reality no wolf but a mighty\nmagician, said he thought he could tell him who the thief was, and could\nhelp him to secure him. 'There lives,' he said, 'in a neighbouring\ncountry, a mighty emperor who has a beautiful golden bird in a cage, and\nthis is the creature who steals the golden apples, but it flies so fast\nthat it is impossible to catch it at its theft. You must slip into the\nEmperor's palace by night and steal the bird with the cage; but be very\ncareful not to touch the walls as you go out.'\n\nThe following night the Prince stole into the Emperor's palace, and\nfound the bird in its cage as the wolf had told him he would. He took\nhold of it carefully, but in spite of all his caution he touched the\nwall in trying to pass by some sleeping watchmen. They awoke at once,\nand, seizing him, beat him and put him into chains. Next day he was led\nbefore the Emperor, who at once condemned him to death and to be thrown\ninto a dark dungeon till the day of his execution arrived.\n\nThe wolf, who, of course, knew by his magic arts all that had happened\nto the Prince, turned himself at once into a mighty monarch with a large\ntrain of followers, and proceeded to the Court of the Emperor, where he\nwas received with every show of honour. The Emperor and he conversed on\nmany subjects, and, among other things, the stranger asked his host if\nhe had many slaves. The Emperor told him he had more than he knew what\nto do with, and that a new one had been captured that very night for\ntrying to steal his magic bird, but that as he had already more than\nenough to feed and support, he was going to have this last captive\nhanged next morning.\n\n'He must have been a most daring thief,' said the King, 'to try and\nsteal the magic bird, for depend upon it the creature must have been\nwell guarded. I would really like to see this bold rascal.' 'By all\nmeans,' said the Emperor; and he himself led his guest down to the\ndungeon where the unfortunate Prince was kept prisoner. When the Emperor\nstepped out of the cell with the King, the latter turned to him and\nsaid, 'Most mighty Emperor, I have been much disappointed. I had thought\nto find a powerful robber, and instead of that I have seen the most\nmiserable creature I can imagine. Hanging is far too good for him. If I\nhad to sentence him I should make him perform some very difficult task,\nunder pain of death. If he did it so much the better for you, and if he\ndidn't, matters would just be as they are now and he could still be\nhanged.' 'Your counsel,' said the Emperor, 'is excellent, and, as it\nhappens, I've got the very thing for him to do. My nearest neighbour,\nwho is also a mighty Emperor, possesses a golden horse which he guards\nmost carefully. The prisoner shall be told to steal this horse and bring\nit to me.'\n\nThe Prince was then let out of his dungeon, and told his life would be\nspared if he succeeded in bringing the golden horse to the Emperor. He\ndid not feel very elated at this announcement, for he did not know how\nin the world he was to set about the task, and he started on his way\nweeping bitterly, and wondering what had made him leave his father's\nhouse and kingdom. But before he had gone far his friend the wolf stood\nbefore him and said, 'Dear Prince, why are you so cast down? It is true\nyou didn't succeed in catching the bird; but don't let that discourage\nyou, for this time you will be all the more careful, and will doubtless\ncatch the horse.' With these and like words the wolf comforted the\nPrince, and warned him specially not to touch the wall or let the horse\ntouch it as he led it out, or he would fail in the same way as he had\ndone with the bird.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAfter a somewhat lengthy journey the Prince and the wolf came to the\nkingdom ruled over by the Emperor who possessed the golden horse. One\nevening late they reached the capital, and the wolf advised the Prince\nto set to work at once, before their presence in the city had aroused\nthe watchfulness of the guards. They slipped unnoticed into the\nEmperor's stables and into the very place where there were the most\nguards, for there the wolf rightly surmised they would find the horse.\nWhen they came to a certain inner door the wolf told the Prince to\nremain outside, while he went in. In a short time he returned and said,\n'My dear Prince, the horse is most securely watched, but I have\nbewitched all the guards, and if you will only be careful not to touch\nthe wall yourself, or let the horse touch it as you go out, there is no\ndanger and the game is yours.' The Prince, who had made up his mind to\nbe more than cautious this time, went cheerfully to work. He found all\nthe guards fast asleep, and, slipping into the horse's stall, he seized\nit by the bridle and led it out; but, unfortunately, before they had got\nquite clear of the stables a gadfly stung the horse and caused it to\nswitch its tail, whereby it touched the wall. In a moment all the guards\nawoke, seized the Prince and beat him mercilessly with their\nhorse-whips, after which they bound him with chains, and flung him into\na dungeon. Next morning they brought him before the Emperor, who treated\nhim exactly as the King with the golden bird had done, and commanded him\nto be beheaded on the following day.\n\nWhen the wolf-magician saw that the Prince had failed this time too, he\ntransformed himself again into a mighty king, and proceeded with an even\nmore gorgeous retinue than the first time to the Court of the Emperor.\nHe was courteously received and entertained, and once more after dinner\nhe led the conversation on to the subject of slaves, and in the course\nof it again requested to be allowed to see the bold robber who had dared\nto break into the Emperor's stable to steal his most valuable\npossession. The Emperor consented, and all happened exactly as it had\ndone at the court of the Emperor with the golden bird; the prisoner's\nlife was to be spared only on condition that within three days he should\nobtain possession of the golden mermaid, whom hitherto no mortal had\never approached.\n\nVery depressed by his dangerous and difficult task, the Prince left his\ngloomy prison; but, to his great joy, he met his friend the wolf before\nhe had gone many miles on his journey. The cunning creature pretended he\nknew nothing of what had happened to the Prince, and asked him how he\nhad fared with the horse. The Prince told him all about his\nmisadventure, and the condition on which the Emperor had promised to\nspare his life. Then the wolf reminded him that he had twice got him out\nof prison, and that if he would only trust in him, and do exactly as he\ntold him, he would certainly succeed in this last undertaking. Thereupon\nthey bent their steps towards the sea, which stretched out before them,\nas far as their eyes could see, all the waves dancing and glittering in\nthe bright sunshine. 'Now,' continued the wolf, 'I am going to turn\nmyself into a boat full of the most beautiful silken merchandise, and\nyou must jump boldly into the boat, and steer with my tail in your\nhand right out into the open sea. You will soon come upon the golden\nmermaid. Whatever you do, don't follow her if she calls you, but on the\ncontrary say to her, \"The buyer comes to the seller, not the seller to\nthe buyer.\" After which you must steer towards the land, and she will\nfollow you, for she won't be able to resist the beautiful wares you have\non board your ship.'\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe Prince promised faithfully to do all he had been told, whereupon the\nwolf changed himself into a ship full of most exquisite silks, of every\nshade and colour imaginable. The astonished Prince stepped into the\nboat, and, holding the wolf's tail in his hand, he steered boldly out\ninto the open sea, where the sun was gilding the blue waves with its\ngolden rays. Soon he saw the golden mermaid swimming near the ship,\nbeckoning and calling to him to follow her; but, mindful of the wolf's\nwarning, he told her in a loud voice that if she wished to buy anything\nshe must come to him. With these words he turned his magic ship round\nand steered back towards the land. The mermaid called out to him to\nstand still, but he refused to listen to her and never paused till he\nreached the sand of the shore. Here he stopped and waited for the\nmermaid, who had swum after him. When she drew near the boat he saw that\nshe was far more beautiful than any mortal he had ever beheld. She swam\nround the ship for some time, and then swung herself gracefully on\nboard, in order to examine the beautiful silken stuffs more closely.\nThen the Prince seized her in his arms, and kissing her tenderly on the\ncheeks and lips, he told her she was his for ever; at the same moment\nthe boat turned into a wolf again, which so terrified the mermaid that\nshe clung to the Prince for protection.\n\nSo the golden mermaid was successfully caught, and she soon felt quite\nhappy in her new life when she saw she had nothing to fear either from\nthe Prince or the wolf--she rode on the back of the latter, and the\nPrince rode behind her. When they reached the country ruled over by the\nEmperor with the golden horse, the Prince jumped down, and, helping the\nmermaid to alight, he led her before the Emperor. At the sight of the\nbeautiful mermaid and of the grim wolf, who stuck close to the Prince\nthis time, the guards all made respectful obeisance, and soon the three\nstood before his Imperial Majesty. When the Emperor heard from the\nPrince how he had gained possession of his fair prize, he at once\nrecognised that he had been helped by some magic art, and on the spot\ngave up all claim to the beautiful mermaid. 'Dear youth,' he said,\n'forgive me for my shameful conduct to you, and, as a sign that you\npardon me, accept the golden horse as a present. I acknowledge your\npower to be greater even than I can understand, for you have succeeded\nin gaining possession of the golden mermaid, whom hitherto no mortal has\never been able to approach.' Then they all sat down to a huge feast, and\nthe Prince had to relate his adventures all over again, to the wonder\nand astonishment of the whole company.\n\nBut the Prince was wearying now to return to his own kingdom, so as soon\nas the feast was over he took farewell of the Emperor, and set out on\nhis homeward way. He lifted the mermaid on to the golden horse, and\nswung himself up behind her--and so they rode on merrily, with the wolf\ntrotting behind, till they came to the country of the Emperor with the\ngolden bird. The renown of the Prince and his adventure had gone before\nhim, and the Emperor sat on his throne awaiting the arrival of the\nPrince and his companions. When the three rode into the courtyard of the\npalace, they were surprised and delighted to find everything festively\nilluminated and decorated for their reception. When the Prince and the\ngolden mermaid, with the wolf behind them, mounted the steps of the\npalace, the Emperor came forward to meet them, and led them to the\nthrone room. At the same moment a servant appeared with the golden bird\nin its golden cage, and the Emperor begged the Prince to accept it with\nhis love, and to forgive him the indignity he had suffered at his hands.\nThen the Emperor bent low before the beautiful mermaid, and, offering\nher his arm, he led her into dinner, closely followed by the Prince and\nher friend the wolf; the latter seating himself at table, not the least\nembarrassed that no one had invited him to do so.\n\nAs soon as the sumptuous meal was over, the Prince and his mermaid took\nleave of the Emperor, and, seating themselves on the golden horse,\ncontinued their homeward journey. On the way the wolf turned to the\nPrince and said, 'Dear friends, I must now bid you farewell, but I leave\nyou under such happy circumstances that I cannot feel our parting to be\na sad one.' The Prince was very unhappy when he heard these words, and\nbegged the wolf to stay with them always; but this the good creature\nrefused to do, though he thanked the Prince kindly for his invitation,\nand called out as he disappeared into the thicket, 'Should any evil\nbefall you, dear Prince, at any time, you may rely on my friendship and\ngratitude.' These were the wolf's parting words, and the Prince could\nnot restrain his tears when he saw his friend vanishing in the\ndistance; but one glance at his beloved mermaid soon cheered him up\nagain, and they continued on their journey merrily.\n\nThe news of his son's adventures had already reached his father's Court,\nand everyone was more than astonished at the success of the once\ndespised Prince. His elder brothers, who had in vain gone in pursuit of\nthe thief of the golden apples, were furious over their younger\nbrother's good fortune, and plotted and planned how they were to kill\nhim. They hid themselves in the wood through which the Prince had to\npass on his way to the palace, and there fell on him, and, having beaten\nhim to death, they carried off the golden horse and the golden bird. But\nnothing they could do would persuade the golden mermaid to go with them\nor move from the spot, for ever since she had left the sea, she had so\nattached herself to her Prince that she asked nothing else than to live\nor die with him.\n\nFor many weeks the poor mermaid sat and watched over the dead body of\nher lover, weeping salt tears over his loss, when suddenly one day their\nold friend the wolf appeared and said, 'Cover the Prince's body with all\nthe leaves and flowers you can find in the wood.' The maiden did as he\ntold her, and then the wolf breathed over the flowery grave, and, lo and\nbehold! the Prince lay there sleeping as peacefully as a child. 'Now you\nmay wake him if you like,' said the wolf, and the mermaid bent over him\nand gently kissed the wounds his brothers had made on his forehead, and\nthe Prince awoke, and you may imagine how delighted he was to find his\nbeautiful mermaid beside him, though he felt a little depressed when he\nthought of the loss of the golden bird and the golden horse. After a\ntime the wolf, who had likewise fallen on the Prince's neck, advised\nthem to continue their journey, and once more the Prince and his lovely\nbride mounted on the faithful beast's back.\n\nThe King's joy was great when he embraced his youngest son, for he had\nlong since despaired of his return. He received the wolf and the\nbeautiful golden mermaid most cordially too, and the Prince was made to\ntell his adventures all over from the beginning. The poor old father\ngrew very sad when he heard of the shameful conduct of his elder sons,\nand had them called before him. They turned as white as death when they\nsaw their brother, whom they thought they had murdered, standing beside\nthem alive and well, and so startled were they that when the King asked\nthem why they had behaved so wickedly to their brother they could think\nof no lie, but confessed at once that they had slain the young Prince in\norder to obtain possession of the golden horse and the golden bird.\nTheir father's wrath knew no bounds, and he ordered them both to be\nbanished, but he could not do enough to honour his youngest son and his\nmarriage with the beautiful mermaid was celebrated with much pomp and\nmagnificence. When the festivities were over, the wolf bade them all\nfarewell, and returned once more to his life in the woods, much to the\nregret of the old King and the young Prince and his bride.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAnd so ended the adventures of the Prince with his friend the wolf.\n\n Grimm.\n\n\n\n\n _THE WAR OF THE WOLF AND THE FOX_\n\n\nThere was once upon a time a man and his wife who had an old cat and an\nold dog. One day the man, whose name was Simon, said to his wife, whose\nname was Susan, 'Why should we keep our old cat any longer? She never\ncatches any mice nowadays, and is so useless that I have made up my\nmind to drown her.'\n\nBut his wife replied, 'Don't do that, for I'm sure she could still catch\nmice.'\n\n'Rubbish,' said Simon. 'The mice might dance on her and she would never\ncatch one. I've quite made up my mind that the next time I see her, I\nshall put her in the water.'\n\nSusan was very unhappy when she heard this, and so was the cat, who had\nbeen listening to the conversation behind the stove. When Simon went off\nto his work, the poor cat miawed so pitifully, and looked up so\npathetically into Susan's face, that the woman quickly opened the door\nand said, 'Fly for your life, my poor little beast, and get well away\nfrom here before your master returns.'\n\nThe cat took her advice, and ran as quickly as her poor old legs would\ncarry her into the wood, and when Simon came home, his wife told him\nthat the cat had vanished.\n\n'So much the better for her,' said Simon. 'And now we have got rid of\nher, we must consider what we are to do with the old dog. He is quite\ndeaf and blind, and invariably barks when there is no need, and makes no\nsound when there is. I think the best thing I can do with him is to hang\nhim.'\n\nBut soft-hearted Susan replied, 'Please don't do so; he's surely not so\nuseless as all that.'\n\n'Don't be foolish,' said her husband. 'The courtyard might be full of\nthieves and he'd never discover it. No, the first time I see him, it's\nall up with him, I can tell you.'\n\nSusan was very unhappy at his words, and so was the dog, who was lying\nin the corner of the room and had heard everything. As soon as Simon had\ngone to his work, he stood up and howled so touchingly that Susan\nquickly opened the door, and said 'Fly for your life, poor beast, before\nyour master gets home.' And the dog ran into the wood with his tail\nbetween his legs.\n\nWhen her husband returned, his wife told him that the dog had\ndisappeared.\n\n'That's lucky for him,' said Simon, but Susan sighed, for she had been\nvery fond of the poor creature.\n\nNow it happened that the cat and dog met each other on their travels,\nand though they had not been the best of friends at home, they were\nquite glad to meet among strangers. They sat down under a holly tree and\nboth poured forth their woes.\n\nPresently a fox passed by, and seeing the pair sitting together in a\ndisconsolate fashion, he asked them why they sat there, and what they\nwere grumbling about.\n\nThe cat replied, 'I have caught many a mouse in my day, but now that I\nam old and past work, my master wants to drown me.'\n\nAnd the dog said, 'Many a night have I watched and guarded my master's\nhouse, and now that I am old and deaf, he wants to hang me.'\n\nThe fox answered, 'That's the way of the world. But I'll help you to get\nback into your master's favour, only you must first help me in my own\ntroubles.'\n\nThey promised to do their best, and the fox continued, 'The wolf has\ndeclared war against me, and is at this moment marching to meet me in\ncompany with the bear and the wild boar, and to-morrow there will be a\nfierce battle between us.'\n\n'All right,' said the dog and the cat, 'we will stand by you, and if we\nare killed, it is at any rate better to die on the field of battle than\nto perish ignobly at home,' and they shook paws and concluded the\nbargain. The fox sent word to the wolf to meet him at a certain place,\nand the three set forth to encounter him and his friends.\n\nThe wolf, the bear, and the wild boar arrived on the spot first, and\nwhen they had waited some time for the fox, the dog, and the cat, the\nbear said, 'I'll climb up into the oak tree, and look if I can see them\ncoming.'\n\nThe first time he looked round he said, 'I can see nothing,' and the\nsecond time he looked round he said, 'I can still see nothing.' But the\nthird time he said, 'I see a mighty army in the distance, and one of the\nwarriors has the biggest lance you ever saw!'\n\nThis was the cat, who was marching along with her tail erect.\n\nAnd so they laughed and jeered, and it was so hot that the bear said,\n'The enemy won't be here at this rate for many hours to come, so I'll\njust curl myself up in the fork of the tree and have a little sleep.'\n\nAnd the wolf lay down under the oak, and the wild boar buried himself in\nsome straw, so that nothing was seen of him but one ear.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAnd while they were lying there, the fox, the cat and the dog arrived.\nWhen the cat saw the wild boar's ear, she pounced upon it, thinking it\nwas a mouse in the straw.\n\nThe wild boar got up in a dreadful fright, gave one loud grunt and\ndisappeared into the wood. But the cat was even more startled than the\nboar, and, spitting with terror, she scrambled up into the fork of the\ntree, and as it happened right into the bear's face. Now it was the\nbear's turn to be alarmed, and with a mighty growl he jumped down from\nthe oak and fell right on the top of the wolf and killed him as dead as\na stone.\n\nOn their way home from the war the fox caught a score of mice, and when\nthey reached Simon's cottage he put them all on the stove and said to\nthe cat, 'Now go and fetch one mouse after the other, and lay them down\nbefore your master.'\n\n'All right,' said the cat, and did exactly as the fox told her.\n\nWhen Susan saw this she said to her husband, 'Just look, here is our old\ncat back again, and see what a lot of mice she has caught.'\n\n'Wonders will never cease,' cried Simon. 'I certainly never thought the\nold cat would ever catch another mouse.'\n\nBut Susan answered, 'There, you see, I always said our cat was a most\nexcellent creature--but you men always think you know best.'\n\nIn the meantime the fox said to the dog, 'Our friend Simon has just\nkilled a pig; when it gets a little darker, you must go into the\ncourtyard and bark with all your might.'\n\n'All right,' said the dog, and as soon as it grew dusk he began to bark\nloudly.\n\nSusan, who heard him first, said to her husband, 'Our dog must have come\nback, for I hear him barking lustily. Do go out and see what's the\nmatter; perhaps thieves may be stealing our sausages.'\n\nBut Simon answered, 'The foolish brute is as deaf as a post and is\nalways barking at nothing,' and he refused to get up.\n\nThe next morning Susan got up early to go to church at the neighbouring\ntown, and she thought she would take some sausages to her aunt who lived\nthere. But when she went to her larder, she found all the sausages gone,\nand a great hole in the floor. She called out to her husband, 'I was\nperfectly right. Thieves have been here last night, and they have not\nleft a single sausage. Oh! if you had only got up when I asked you to!'\n\nThen Simon scratched his head and said, 'I can't understand it at all. I\ncertainly never believed the old dog was so quick at hearing.'\n\nBut Susan replied, 'I always told you our old dog was the best dog in\nthe world--but as usual you thought you knew so much better. Men are the\nsame all the world over.'\n\nAnd the fox scored a point too, for he had carried away the sausages\nhimself!\n\n Grimm.\n\n\n\n\n _THE STORY OF THE FISHERMAN AND HIS WIFE_\n\n\nThere was once a fisherman and his wife who lived together in a little\nhut close to the sea, and the fisherman used to go down every day to\nfish; and he would fish and fish. So he used to sit with his rod and\ngaze into the shining water; and he would gaze and gaze.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nNow, once the line was pulled deep under the water, and when he hauled\nit up he hauled a large flounder with it. The flounder said to him,\n'Listen, fisherman. I pray you to let me go; I am not a real flounder, I\nam an enchanted Prince. What good will it do you if you kill me--I shall\nnot taste nice? Put me back into the water and let me swim away.'\n\n'Well,' said the man, 'you need not make so much noise about it; I am\nsure I had much better let a flounder that can talk swim away.' With\nthese words he put him back again into the shining water, and the\nflounder sank to the bottom, leaving a long streak of blood behind. Then\nthe fisherman got up, and went home to his wife in the hut.\n\n'Husband,' said his wife, 'have you caught nothing to-day?'\n\n'No,' said the man. 'I caught a flounder who said he was an enchanted\nprince, so I let him swim away again.'\n\n'Did you wish nothing from him?' said his wife.\n\n'No,' said the man; 'what should I have wished from him?'\n\n'Ah!' said the woman, 'it's dreadful to have to live all one's life in\nthis hut that is so small and dirty; you ought to have wished for a\ncottage. Go now and call him; say to him that we choose to have a\ncottage, and he will certainly give it you.'\n\n'Alas!' said the man, 'why should I go down there again?'\n\n'Why,' said his wife, 'you caught him, and then let him go again, so he\nis sure to give you what you ask. Go down quickly.'\n\nThe man did not like going at all, but as his wife was not to be\npersuaded, he went down to the sea.\n\nWhen he came there the sea was quite green and yellow, and was no longer\nshining. So he stood on the shore and said:\n\n 'Once a prince, but changed you be\n Into a flounder in the sea.\n Come! for my wife, Ilsebel,\n Wishes what I dare not tell.'\n\nThen the flounder came swimming up and said, 'Well, what does she want?'\n\n'Alas!' said the man, 'my wife says I ought to have kept you and wished\nsomething from you. She does not want to live any longer in the hut; she\nwould like a cottage.'\n\n'Go home, then,' said the flounder; 'she has it.'\n\nSo the man went home, and there was his wife no longer in the hut, but\nin its place was a beautiful cottage, and his wife was sitting in front\nof the door on a bench. She took him by the hand and said to him, 'Come\ninside, and see if this is not much better.' They went in, and inside\nthe cottage was a tiny hall, and a beautiful sitting-room, and a bedroom\nin which stood a bed, a kitchen and a dining-room all furnished with the\nbest of everything, and fitted up with every kind of tin and copper\nutensil. And outside was a little yard in which were chickens and ducks,\nand also a little garden with vegetables and fruit trees.\n\n'See,' said the wife, 'isn't this nice?'\n\n'Yes,' answered her husband; 'here we shall remain and live very\nhappily.'\n\n'We will think about that,' said his wife.\n\nWith these words they had their supper and went to bed. All went well\nfor a week or a fortnight, then the wife said:\n\n'Listen, husband; the cottage is much too small, and so is the yard and\nthe garden; the flounder might just as well have sent us a larger house.\nI should like to live in a great stone castle. Go down to the flounder,\nand tell him to send us a castle.'\n\n'Ah, wife!' said the fisherman, 'the cottage is quite good enough; why\ndo we choose to live in a castle?'\n\n'Why?' said the wife. 'You go down; the flounder can quite well do\nthat.'\n\n'No, wife,' said the man; 'the flounder gave us the cottage. I do not\nlike to go to him again; he might take it amiss.'\n\n'Go,' said his wife. 'He can certainly give it us, and ought to do so\nwillingly. Go at once.'\n\nThe fisherman's heart was very heavy, and he did not like going. He said\nto himself, 'It is not right.' Still, he went down.\n\nWhen he came to the sea, the water was all violet and dark-blue, and\ndull and thick, and no longer green and yellow, but it was still smooth.\n\nSo he stood there and said:\n\n 'Once a prince, but changed you be\n Into a flounder in the sea.\n Come! for my wife, Ilsebel,\n Wishes what I dare not tell.'\n\n'What does she want now?' said the flounder.\n\n'Ah!' said the fisherman, half-ashamed, 'she wants to live in a great\nstone castle.'\n\n'Go home; she is standing before the door,' said the flounder.\n\nThe fisherman went home and thought he would find no house. When he came\nnear, there stood a great stone palace, and his wife was standing on the\nsteps, about to enter. She took him by the hand and said, 'Come inside.'\n\nThen he went with her, and inside the castle was a large hall with a\nmarble floor, and there were heaps of servants who threw open the great\ndoors, and the walls were covered with beautiful tapestry, and in the\napartments were gilded chairs and tables, and crystal chandeliers hung\nfrom the ceiling, and all the rooms were beautifully carpeted. The best\nof food and drink also was set before them when they wished to dine. And\noutside the house was a large courtyard with horse and cow stables and a\ncoach-house--all fine buildings; and a splendid garden with most\nbeautiful flowers and fruit, and in a park quite a league long were deer\nand roe and hares, and everything one could wish for,\n\n'Now,' said the wife, 'isn't this beautiful?'\n\n'Yes, indeed,' said the fisherman. 'Now we will stay here and live in\nthis beautiful castle, and be very happy.'\n\n'We will consider the matter,' said his wife, and they went to bed.\n\nThe next morning the wife woke up first at daybreak, and looked out of\nthe bed at the beautiful country stretched before her. Her husband was\nstill sleeping, so she dug her elbows into his side and said:\n\n'Husband, get up and look out of the window. Could we not become the\nking of all this land? Go down to the flounder and tell him we choose to\nbe king.'\n\n'Ah, wife!' replied her husband, 'why should we be king? _I_ don't want\nto be king.'\n\n'Well,' said his wife, 'if you don't want to be king, _I_ will be king.\nGo down to the flounder; I will be king.'\n\n'Alas! wife,' said the fisherman, 'why do you want to be king? I can't\nask him that.'\n\n'And why not?' said his wife. 'Go down at once. I must be king.'\n\nSo the fisherman went, though much vexed that his wife wanted to be\nking. 'It is not right! It is not right,' he thought. He did not wish to\ngo, yet he went.\n\nWhen he came to the sea, the water was a dark-grey colour, and it was\nheaving against the shore. So he stood and said:\n\n 'Once a prince, but changed you be\n Into a flounder in the sea.\n Come! for my wife, Ilsebel,\n Wishes what I dare not tell.'\n\n'What does she want now?' asked the flounder.\n\n'Alas!' said the fisherman, 'she wants to be king.'\n\n'Go home; she is that already,' said the flounder.\n\nThe fisherman went home, and when he came near the palace he saw that it\nhad become much larger, and that it had great towers and splendid\nornamental carving on it. A sentinel was standing before the gate, and\nthere were numbers of soldiers with kettledrums and trumpets. And when\nhe went into the palace, he found everything was of pure marble and\ngold, and the curtains of damask with tassels of gold. Then the doors of\nthe hall flew open, and there stood the whole Court round his wife, who\nwas sitting on a high throne of gold and diamonds; she wore a great\ngolden crown, and had a sceptre of gold and precious stones in her hand,\nand by her on either side stood six pages in a row, each one a head\ntaller than the other. Then he went before her and said:\n\n'Ah, wife! are you king now?'\n\n'Yes,' said his wife; 'now I am king.'\n\nHe stood looking at her, and when he had looked for some time, he said:\n\n'Let that be enough, wife, now that you are king! Now we have nothing\nmore to wish for.'\n\n'Nay, husband,' said his wife restlessly, 'my wishing powers are\nboundless; I cannot restrain them any longer. Go down to the flounder;\nking I am, now I must be emperor.'\n\n'Alas! wife,' said the fisherman, 'why do you want to be emperor?'\n\n'Husband,' said she, 'go to the flounder; I _will_ be emperor.'\n\n'Ah, wife,' he said, 'he cannot make you emperor; I don't like to ask\nhim that. There is only one emperor in the kingdom. Indeed and indeed he\ncannot make you emperor.'\n\n'What!' said his wife. 'I am king, and you are my husband. Will you go\nat once? Go! If he can make king he can make emperor, and emperor I must\nand will be. Go!'\n\nSo he had to go. But as he went, he felt quite frightened, and he\nthought to himself, 'This can't be right; to be emperor is too\nambitious; the flounder will be tired out at last.'\n\nThinking this he came to the shore. The sea was quite black and thick,\nand it was breaking high on the beach; the foam was flying about, and\nthe wind was blowing; everything looked bleak. The fisherman was chilled\nwith fear. He stood and said:\n\n 'Once a prince, but changed you be\n Into a flounder in the sea.\n Come! for my wife, Ilsebel,\n Wishes what I dare not tell.'\n\n'What does she want now?' asked the flounder.\n\n'Alas! flounder,' he said, 'my wife wants to be emperor.'\n\n'Go home,' said the flounder; 'she is that already.'\n\nSo the fisherman went home, and when he came there he saw the whole\ncastle was made of polished marble, ornamented with alabaster statues\nand gold. Before the gate soldiers were marching, blowing trumpets and\nbeating drums. Inside the palace were walking barons, counts, and dukes,\nacting as servants; they opened the door, which was of beaten gold. And\nwhen he entered, he saw his wife upon a throne which was made out of a\nsingle block of gold, and which was quite six cubits high. She had on a\ngreat golden crown which was three yards high and set with brilliants\nand sparkling gems. In one hand she held a sceptre, and in the other the\nimperial globe, and on either side of her stood two rows of halberdiers,\neach smaller than the other, from a seven-foot giant to the tiniest\nlittle dwarf no higher than my little finger. Many princes and dukes\nwere standing before her. The fisherman went up to her quietly and said:\n\n'Wife, are you emperor now?'\n\n'Yes,' she said, 'I am emperor.'\n\nHe stood looking at her magnificence, and when he had watched her for\nsome time, said:\n\n'Ah, wife, let that be enough, now that you are emperor.'\n\n'Husband,' said she, 'why are you standing there? I am emperor now, and\nI want to be pope too; go down to the flounder.'\n\n'Alas! wife,' said the fisherman, 'what more do you want? You cannot be\npope; there is only one pope in Christendom, and he cannot make you\nthat.'\n\n'Husband,' she said, 'I _will_ be pope. Go down quickly; I must be pope\nto-day.'\n\n'No, wife,' said the fisherman; 'I can't ask him that. It is not right;\nit is too much. The flounder cannot make you pope.'\n\n'Husband, what nonsense!' said his wife. 'If he can make emperor, he can\nmake pope too. Go down this instant; I am emperor and you are my\nhusband. Will you be off at once?'\n\nSo he was frightened and went out; but he felt quite faint, and trembled\nand shook, and his knees and legs began to give way under him. The wind\nwas blowing fiercely across the land, and the clouds flying across the\nsky looked as gloomy as if it were night; the leaves were being blown\nfrom the trees; the water was foaming and seething and dashing upon the\nshore, and in the distance he saw the ships in great distress, dancing\nand tossing on the waves. Still the sky was very blue in the middle,\nalthough at the sides it was an angry red as in a great storm. So he\nstood shuddering in anxiety, and said:\n\n 'Once a prince, but changed you be\n Into a flounder in the sea.\n Come! for my wife, Ilsebel,\n Wishes what I dare not tell.'\n\n'Well, what does she want now?' asked the flounder.\n\n'Alas!' said the fisherman, 'she wants to be pope.'\n\n'Go home, then; she is that already,' said the flounder.\n\nThen he went home, and when he came there he saw, as it were, a large\nchurch surrounded by palaces. He pushed his way through the people. The\ninterior was lit up with thousands and thousands of candles, and his\nwife was dressed in cloth of gold and was sitting on a much higher\nthrone, and she wore three great golden crowns. Round her were numbers\nof Church dignitaries, and on either side were standing two rows of\ntapers, the largest of them as tall as a steeple, and the smallest as\ntiny as a Christmas-tree candle. All the emperors and kings were on\ntheir knees before her, and were kissing her foot.\n\n'Wife,' said the fisherman looking at her, 'are you pope now?'\n\n'Yes,' said she; 'I am pope.'\n\nSo he stood staring at her, and it was as if he were looking at the\nbright sun. When he had watched her for some time he said:\n\n'Ah, wife, let it be enough now that you are pope.'\n\nBut she sat as straight as a tree, and did not move or bend the least\nbit. He said again:\n\n'Wife, be content now that you are pope. You cannot become anything\nmore.'\n\n'We will think about that,' said his wife.\n\nWith these words they went to bed. But the woman was not content; her\ngreed would not allow her to sleep, and she kept on thinking and\nthinking what she could still become. The fisherman slept well and\nsoundly, for he had done a great deal that day, but his wife could not\nsleep at all, and turned from one side to another the whole night long,\nand thought, till she could think no longer, what more she could become.\nThen the sun began to rise, and when she saw the red dawn she went to\nthe end of the bed and looked at it, and as she was watching the sun\nrise, out of the window, she thought, 'Ha! could I not make the sun and\nman rise?'\n\n[Illustration]\n\n'Husband,' said she, poking him in the ribs with her elbows, 'wake up.\nGo down to the flounder; I will be a god.'\n\nThe fisherman was still half asleep, yet he was so frightened that he\nfell out of bed. He thought he had not heard aright, and opened his eyes\nwide and said:\n\n'What did you say, wife?'\n\n'Husband,' she said, 'if I cannot make the sun and man rise when I\nappear I cannot rest. I shall never have a quiet moment till I can make\nthe sun and man rise.'\n\nHe looked at her in horror, and a shudder ran over him.\n\n'Go down at once; I will be a god.'\n\n[Illustration]\n\n'Alas! wife,' said the fisherman, falling on his knees before her, 'the\nflounder cannot do that. Emperor and pope he can make you. I implore\nyou, be content and remain pope.'\n\nThen she flew into a passion, her hair hung wildly about her face, she\npushed him with her foot and screamed:\n\n'I am not contented, and I shall not be contented! Will you go?'\n\nSo he hurried on his clothes as fast as possible, and ran away as if he\nwere mad.\n\nBut the storm was raging so fiercely that he could scarcely stand.\nHouses and trees were being blown down, the mountains were being shaken,\nand pieces of rock were rolling in the sea. The sky was as black as ink,\nit was thundering and lightening, and the sea was tossing in great waves\nas high as church towers and mountains, and each had a white crest of\nfoam.\n\nSo he shouted, not able to hear his own voice:\n\n 'Once a prince, but changed you be\n Into a flounder in the sea.\n Come! for my wife, Ilsebel,\n Wishes what I dare not tell.'\n\n'Well, what does she want now?' asked the flounder.\n\n'Alas!' said he, 'she wants to be a god.'\n\n'Go home, then; she is sitting again in the hut.'\n\nAnd there they are sitting to this day.\n\n Grimm.\n\n\n\n\n _THE THREE MUSICIANS_\n\n\nOnce upon a time three musicians left their home and set out on their\ntravels. They had all learnt music from the same master, and they\ndetermined to stick together and to seek their fortune in foreign lands.\nThey wandered merrily from place to place and made quite a good living,\nand were much appreciated by everyone who heard them play. One evening\nthey came to a village where they delighted all the company with their\nbeautiful music. At last they ceased playing, and began to eat and drink\nand listen to the talk that was going on around them. They heard all the\ngossip of the place, and many wonderful things were related and\ndiscussed. At last the conversation fell on a castle in the\nneighbourhood, about which many strange and marvellous things were told.\nOne person said that hidden treasure was to be found there; another that\nthe richest food was always to be had there, although the castle was\nuninhabited; and a third, that an evil spirit dwelt within the walls, so\nterrible, that anyone who forced his way into the castle came out of it\nmore dead than alive.\n\nAs soon as the three musicians were alone in their bedroom they agreed\nto go and examine the mysterious castle, and, if possible, to find and\ncarry away the hidden treasure. They determined, too, to make the\nattempt separately, one after the other, according to age, and they\nsettled that a whole day was to be given to each adventurer in which to\ntry his luck.\n\nThe fiddler was the first to set out on his adventures, and did so in\nthe best of spirits and full of courage. When he reached the castle he\nfound the outer gate open, quite as if he were an expected guest, but no\nsooner had he stepped across the entry than the heavy door closed behind\nhim with a bang, and was bolted with a huge iron bar, exactly as if a\nsentinel were doing his office and keeping watch, but no human being was\nto be seen anywhere. An awful terror overcame the fiddler; but it was\nhopeless to think of turning back or of standing still, and the hopes of\nfinding gold and other treasures gave him strength and courage to force\nhis way further into the castle. Upstairs and downstairs he wandered,\nthrough lofty halls, splendid rooms, and lovely little boudoirs,\neverything beautifully arranged, and all kept in the most perfect order.\nBut the silence of death reigned everywhere, and no living thing, not\neven a fly, was to be seen. Notwithstanding, the youth felt his spirits\nreturn to him when he entered the lower regions of the castle, for in\nthe kitchen the most tempting and delicious food was spread out, the\ncellars were full of the most costly wine, and the store-room crammed\nwith pots of every sort of jam you can imagine. A cheerful fire was\nburning in the kitchen, before which a roast was being basted by unseen\nhands, and all kinds of vegetables and other dainty dishes were being\nprepared in like manner. Before the fiddler had time to think, he was\nushered into a little room by invisible hands, and there a table was\nspread for him with all the delicious food he had seen cooking in the\nkitchen.\n\nThe youth first seized his fiddle and played a beautiful air on it which\nechoed through the silent halls, and then he fell to and began to eat a\nhearty meal. Before long, however, the door opened and a tiny man\nstepped into the room, not more than three feet high, clothed in a\ndressing-gown, and with a small wrinkled face, and a grey beard which\nreached down to the silver buckles of his shoes. And the little man sat\ndown beside the fiddler and shared his meal. When they got to the game\ncourse the fiddler handed the dwarf a knife and fork, and begged him to\nhelp himself first, and then to pass the dish on. The little creature\nnodded, but helped himself so clumsily that he dropped the piece of meat\nhe had carved on to the floor.\n\nThe good-natured fiddler bent down to pick it up, but in the twinkling\nof an eye the little man had jumped on to his back, and beat him till he\nwas black and blue all over his head and body. At last, when the fiddler\nwas nearly dead, the little wretch left off, and shoved the poor fellow\nout of the iron gate which he had entered in such good spirits a few\nhours before. The fresh air revived him a little, and in a short time he\nwas able to stagger with aching limbs back to the inn where his\ncompanions were staying. It was night when he reached the place, and the\nother two musicians were fast asleep. The next morning they were much\nastonished at finding the fiddler in bed beside them, and overwhelmed\nhim with questions; but their friend hid his back and face, and answered\nthem very shortly, saying, 'Go there yourselves, and see what's to be\nseen! It is a ticklish matter, that I can assure you.'\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe second musician, who was a trumpeter, now made his way to the\ncastle, and everything happened to him exactly as it had to the fiddler.\nHe was just as hospitably entertained at first, and then just as\ncruelly beaten and belaboured, so that next morning he too lay in his\nbed like a wounded hare, assuring his friends that the task of getting\ninto the haunted castle was no enviable one. Notwithstanding the warning\nof his companions, the third musician, who played the flute, was still\ndetermined to try his luck, and, full of courage and daring, he set out,\nresolved, if possible, to find and secure the hidden treasure.\n\nFearlessly he wandered through the whole castle, and as he roamed\nthrough the splendid empty apartments he thought to himself how nice it\nwould be to live there always, especially with a full larder and cellar\nat his disposal. A table was spread for him too, and when he had\nwandered about for some time, singing and playing the flute, he sat\ndown as his companions had done, prepared to enjoy the delicious food\nthat was spread out in front of him. Then the little man with the beard\nentered as before and seated himself beside the flute-player, who wasn't\nthe least startled at his appearance, but chatted away to him as if he\nhad known him all his life. But he didn't find his companion very\ncommunicative. At last they came to the game, and, as usual, the little\nman let his piece fall on the ground. The flute-player was\ngood-naturedly just going to pick it up, when he perceived that the\nlittle dwarf was in the act of springing on his back. Then he turned\nround sharply, and, seizing the little creature by his beard, he gave\nhim such a shaking that he tore his beard out, and the dwarf sank\ngroaning to the ground.\n\nBut as soon as the youth had the beard in his hands he felt so strong\nthat he was fit for anything, and he perceived all sorts of things in\nthe castle that he had not noticed before, but, on the other hand, all\nstrength seemed to have gone from the little man. He whined and sobbed\nout: 'Give, oh give me my beard again, and I will instruct you in all\nthe magic art that surrounds this castle, and will help you to carry-off\nthe hidden treasure, which will make you rich and happy for ever.'\n\nBut the cunning flute-player replied: 'I will give you back your beard,\nbut you must first help me as you have promised to do. Till you have\ndone so, I don't let your beard out of my hands.'\n\nThen the old man found himself obliged to fulfil his promise, though he\nhad had no intention of doing so, and had only desired to get his beard\nback. He made the youth follow him through dark secret passages,\nunderground vaults, and grey rocks till at last they came to an open\nfield, which looked as if it belonged to a more beautiful world than\nours. Then they came to a stream of rushing water; but the little man\ndrew out a wand and touched the waves, whereupon the waters parted and\nstood still, and the two crossed the river with dry feet. And how\nbeautiful everything on the other side was! lovely green paths leading\nthrough woods and fields covered with flowers, birds with gold and\nsilver feathers singing on the trees, lovely butterflies and glittering\nbeetles fluttered and crawled about, and dear little beasts hid in the\nbushes and hedges. The sky above them was not blue, but like rays of\npure gold, and the stars looked twice their usual size, and far more\nbrilliant than on our earth.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe youth grew more and more astonished when the little grey man led him\ninto a castle far bigger and more splendid than the one they had left.\nHere, too, the deepest silence reigned. They wandered all through the\ncastle, and came at last to a room in the middle of which stood a bed\nhung all round with heavy curtains. Over the bed hung a bird's cage, and\nthe bird inside it was singing beautiful songs into the silent space.\nThe little grey man lifted the curtains from the bed and beckoned the\nyouth to approach. On the rich silk cushions embroidered with gold a\nlovely maiden lay sleeping. She was as beautiful as an angel, with\ngolden hair which fell in curls over her marble shoulders, and a diamond\ncrown sparkled on her forehead. But a sleep as of death held her in its\nspell, and no noise seemed able to waken the sleeper.\n\nThen the little man turned to the wondering youth and said: 'See, here\nis the sleeping child! She is a mighty Princess. This splendid castle\nand this enchanted land are hers, but for hundreds of years she has\nslept this magic sleep, and during all that time no human being has been\nable to find their way here. I alone have kept guard over her, and have\ngone daily to my own castle to get food and to beat the greedy\ngold-seekers who forced their way into my dwelling. I have watched over\nthe Princess carefully all these years and saw that no stranger came\nnear her, but all my magic power lay in my beard, and now that you have\ntaken it away I am helpless, and can no longer hold the beautiful\nPrincess in her enchanted sleep, but am forced to reveal my treasured\nsecret to you. So set to work and do as I tell you. Take the bird which\nhangs over the Princess's head, and which by its song sang her into this\nenchanted sleep--a song which it has had to continue ever since; take it\nand kill it, and cut its little heart out and burn it to a powder, and\nthen put it into the Princess's mouth; then she will instantly awaken,\nand will bestow on you her heart and hand, her kingdom and castle, and\nall her treasures.\n\nThe little dwarf paused, quite worn out, and the youth did not wait long\nto do his bidding. He did all he was told carefully and promptly, and\nhaving cut the little bird's heart out he proceeded to make it into a\npowder. No sooner had he placed it in the Princess's mouth than she\nopened her lovely eyes, and, looking up into the happy youth's face, she\nkissed him tenderly, thanked him for freeing her from her magic sleep,\nand promised to be his wife. At the same moment a sound as of thunder\nwas heard all over the castle, and on all the staircases and in every\nroom sounds were to be heard. Then a troop of servants, male and female,\nflocked into the apartment where the happy couple sat, and after wishing\nthe Princess and her bridegroom joy, they dispersed all over the castle\nto their different occupations.\n\nBut the little grey dwarf began now to demand his beard again from the\nyouth, for in his wicked heart he was determined to make an end of all\ntheir happiness; he knew that if only his beard were once more on his\nchin, he would be able to do what he liked with them all. But the clever\nflute-player was quite a match for the little man in cunning, and said:\n'All right, you needn't be afraid, you shall get your beard back before\nwe part; but you must allow my bride and me to accompany you a bit on\nyour homeward way.'\n\nThe dwarf could not refuse this request, and so they all went together\nthrough the beautiful green paths and flowery meadows, and came at last\nto the river which flowed for miles round the Princess's land and formed\nthe boundary of her kingdom. There was no bridge or ferry-boat to be\nseen anywhere, and it was impossible to get over to the other side, for\nthe boldest swimmer would not have dared to brave the fierce current and\nroaring waters. Then the youth said to the dwarf: 'Give me your wand in\norder that I may part the waves.'\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAnd the dwarf was forced to do as he was told because the youth still\nkept his beard from him; but the wicked little creature chuckled with\njoy and thought to himself: 'The foolish youth will hand me my beard as\nsoon as we have crossed the river, and then my power will return, and I\nwill seize my wand and prevent them both ever returning to their\nbeautiful country.'\n\nBut the dwarf's wicked intentions were doomed to disappointment. The\nhappy youth struck the water with his wand, and the waves at once parted\nand stood still, and the dwarf went on in front and crossed the stream.\nNo sooner had he done so than the waters closed behind him, and the\nyouth and his lovely bride stood safe on the other side. Then they threw\nhis beard to the old man across the river, but they kept his wand, so\nthat the wicked dwarf could never again enter their kingdom. So the\nhappy couple returned to their castle, and lived there in peace and\nplenty for ever after. But the other two musicians waited in vain for\nthe return of their companion; and when he never came they said: 'Ah,\nhe's gone to play the flute,' till the saying passed into a proverb, and\nwas always said of anyone who set out to perform a task from which he\nnever returned.\n\n Grimm.\n\n\n\n\n _THE THREE DOGS_\n\n\nThere was once upon a time a shepherd who had two children, a son and a\ndaughter. When he was on his death-bed he turned to them and said, 'I\nhave nothing to leave you but three sheep and a small house; divide them\nbetween you, as you like, but don't quarrel over them whatever you do.'\n\nWhen the shepherd was dead, the brother asked his sister which she would\nlike best, the sheep or the little house; and when she had chosen the\nhouse he said, 'Then I'll take the sheep and go out to seek my fortune\nin the wide world. I don't see why I shouldn't be as lucky as many\nanother who has set out on the same search, and it wasn't for nothing\nthat I was born on a Sunday.'\n\nAnd so he started on his travels, driving his three sheep in front of\nhim, and for a long time it seemed as if fortune didn't mean to favour\nhim at all. One day he was sitting disconsolately at a cross road, when\na man suddenly appeared before him with three black dogs, each one\nbigger than the other.\n\n'Hullo, my fine fellow,' said the man, 'I see you have three fat sheep.\nI'll tell you what; if you'll give them to me, I'll give you my three\ndogs.'\n\nIn spite of his sadness, the youth smiled and replied, 'What would I do\nwith your dogs? My sheep at least feed themselves, but I should have to\nfind food for the dogs.'\n\n'My dogs are not like other dogs,' said the stranger; 'they will feed\nyou instead of you them, and will make your fortune. The smallest one is\ncalled \"Salt,\" and will bring you food whenever you wish; the second is\ncalled \"Pepper,\" and will tear anyone to pieces who offers to hurt you;\nand the great big strong one is called \"Mustard,\" and is so powerful\nthat it will break iron or steel with its teeth.'\n\nThe shepherd at last let himself be persuaded, and gave the stranger his\nsheep. In order to test the truth of his statement about the dogs, he\nsaid at once, 'Salt, I am hungry,' and before the words were out of his\nmouth the dog had disappeared, and returned in a few minutes with a\nlarge basket full of the most delicious food. Then the youth\ncongratulated himself on the bargain he had made, and continued his\njourney in the best of spirits.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nOne day he met a carriage and pair, all draped in black; even the\nhorses were covered with black trappings, and the coachman was clothed\nin crape from top to toe. Inside the carriage sat a beautiful girl in a\nblack dress crying bitterly. The horses advanced slowly and mournfully,\nwith their heads bent on the ground.\n\n'Coachman, what's the meaning of all this grief?' asked the shepherd.\n\nAt first the coachman wouldn't say anything, but when the youth pressed\nhim he told him that a huge dragon dwelt in the neighbourhood, and\nrequired yearly the sacrifice of a beautiful maiden. This year the lot\nhad fallen on the King's daughter, and the whole country was filled with\nwoe and lamentation in consequence.\n\nThe shepherd felt very sorry for the lovely maiden, and determined to\nfollow the carriage. In a little it halted at the foot of a high\nmountain. The girl got out, and walked slowly and sadly to meet her\nterrible fate. The coachman perceived that the shepherd wished to follow\nher, and warned him not to do so if he valued his life; but the shepherd\nwouldn't listen to his advice. When they had climbed about half-way up\nthe hill they saw a terrible-looking monster with the body of a snake,\nand with huge wings and claws, coming towards them, breathing forth\nflames of fire, and preparing to seize its victim. Then the shepherd\ncalled, 'Pepper, come to the rescue,' and the second dog set upon the\ndragon, and after a fierce struggle bit it so sharply in the neck that\nthe monster rolled over, and in a few moments breathed its last. Then\nthe dog ate up the body, all except its two front teeth, which the\nshepherd picked up and put in his pocket.\n\nThe Princess was quite overcome with terror and joy, and fell fainting\nat the feet of her deliverer. When she recovered her consciousness she\nbegged the shepherd to return with her to her father, who would reward\nhim richly. But the youth answered that he wanted to see something of\nthe world, and that he would return again in three years, and nothing\nwould make him change this resolve. The Princess seated herself once\nmore in her carriage, and, bidding each other farewell, she and the\nshepherd separated, she to return home, and he to see the world.\n\nBut while the Princess was driving over a bridge the carriage suddenly\nstood still, and the coachman turned round to her and said, 'Your\ndeliverer has gone, and doesn't thank you for your gratitude. It would\nbe nice of you to make a poor fellow happy; therefore you may tell your\nfather that it was I who slew the dragon, and if you refuse to, I will\nthrow you into the river, and no one will be any the wiser, for they\nwill think the dragon has devoured you.'\n\nThe maiden was in a dreadful state when she heard these words; but there\nwas nothing for her to do but to swear that she would give out the\ncoachman as her deliverer, and not to divulge the secret to anyone. So\nthey returned to the capital, and everyone was delighted when they saw\nthe Princess had returned unharmed; the black flags were taken down from\nall the palace towers, and gay-coloured ones put up in their place, and\nthe King embraced his daughter and her supposed rescuer with tears of\njoy, and, turning to the coachman, he said, 'You have not only saved the\nlife of my child, but you have also freed the country from a terrible\nscourge; therefore, it is only fitting that you should be richly\nrewarded. Take, therefore, my daughter for your wife; but as she is\nstill so young, do not let the marriage be celebrated for another year.'\n\nThe coachman thanked the King for his graciousness, and was then led\naway to be richly dressed and instructed in all the arts and graces that\nbefitted his new position. But the poor Princess wept bitterly, though\nshe did not dare to confide her grief to anyone. When the year was over,\nshe begged so hard for another year's respite that it was granted to\nher. But this year passed also, and she threw herself at her father's\nfeet, and begged so piteously for one more year that the King's heart\nwas melted, and he yielded to her request, much to the Princess's joy,\nfor she knew that her real deliverer would appear at the end of the\nthird year. And so the year passed away like the other two, and the\nwedding-day was fixed, and all the people were prepared to feast and\nmake merry.\n\nBut on the wedding-day it happened that a stranger came to the town with\nthree black dogs. He asked what the meaning of all the feasting and fuss\nwas, and they told him that the King's daughter was just going to be\nmarried to the man who had slain the terrible dragon. The stranger at\nonce denounced the coachman as a liar; but no one would listen to him,\nand he was seized and thrown into a cell with iron doors.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nWhile he was lying on his straw pallet, pondering mournfully on his\nfate, he thought he heard the low whining of his dogs outside; then an\nidea dawned on him, and he called out as loudly as he could, 'Mustard,\ncome to my help,' and in a second he saw the paws of his biggest dog at\nthe window of his cell, and before he could count two the creature had\nbitten through the iron bars and stood beside him. Then they both let\nthemselves out of the prison by the window, and the poor youth was free\nonce more, though he felt very sad when he thought that another was to\nenjoy the reward that rightfully belonged to him. He felt hungry too, so\nhe called his dog 'Salt,' and asked him to bring home some food. The\nfaithful creature trotted off, and soon returned with a table-napkin\nfull of the most delicious food, and the napkin itself was embroidered\nwith a kingly crown.\n\nThe King had just seated himself at the wedding-feast with all his\nCourt, when the dog appeared and licked the Princess's hand in an\nappealing manner. With a joyful start she recognised the beast, and\nbound her own table-napkin round his neck. Then she plucked up her\ncourage and told her father the whole story. The King at once sent a\nservant to follow the dog, and in a short time the stranger was led into\nthe King's presence. The former coachman grew as white as a sheet when\nhe saw the shepherd, and, falling on his knees, begged for mercy and\npardon. The Princess recognised her deliverer at once, and did not need\nthe proof of the two dragon's teeth which he drew from his pocket. The\ncoachman was thrown into a dark dungeon, and the shepherd took his place\nat the Princess's side, and this time, you may be sure, she did not beg\nfor the wedding to be put off.\n\nThe young couple lived for some time in great peace and happiness, when\nsuddenly one day the former shepherd bethought himself of his poor\nsister and expressed a wish to see her again, and to let her share in\nhis good fortune. So they sent a carriage to fetch her, and soon she\narrived at the court, and found herself once more in her brother's arms.\nThen one of the dogs spoke and said, 'Our task is done; you have no more\nneed of us. We only waited to see that you did not forget your sister in\nyour prosperity.' And with these words the three dogs became three birds\nand flew away into the heavens.\n\n Grimm.\n\n Spottiswoode & Co. Ltd., Printers, New-street Square, London.\n\n\n\n\n =Transcriber's Notes:=\n Page 31, \"Are you here?\" changed to \"Are you here?'\"\n Page 47, \"such beautifu things\" changed to \"such beautiful things\"\n Page 78, \"for your good.\" changed to \"for your good.'\"\n Page 81, \"cannot tell you.\" changed to \"cannot tell you.'\"\n Page 108, \"I would have\" changed to \"It would have\"\n Page 113, \"Leaty Palace\" changed to \"Leafy Palace\"\n Page 126, \"the direction he\" changed to \"the directions he\"\n Page 129, \"'Hi. good dog!'\" changed to \"'Hi, good dog!'\"\n Page 155, \"rests with mo\" changed to \"rests with me\"\n Page 181, \"finished John\" changed to \"finished John.\"\n Page 191, \"you wont forget\" changed to \"you won't forget\"\n Page 205, \"before him. so\" changed to \"before him, so\"\n Page 210, \"to be sure,\" changed to \"to be sure,'\"\n Page 211, \"they wont be\" changed to \"they won't be\"\n Page 219, \"replied, Very well\" changed to \"replied, 'Very well\"\n Page 222, \"thought Prince Milan.\" changed to \"thought Prince Milan,\"\n Page 229, \"house was changed\" changed to \"house was changed.\"\n Page 234, \"as herd girl\" changed to \"as herd-girl\"\n Page 251, \"IN MY CHAIR!\" changed to \"IN MY CHAIR!'\"\n Page 277, \"a women beside\" changed to \"a woman beside\"\n Page 326, \"the man, I've\" changed to \"the man, 'I've\"\n Page 347, \"is yours. The\" changed to \"is yours.' The\"","title":"The Green Fairy Book","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":119590}