{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_35458/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_35458","id":"gutenberg_35458","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/35458","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Short Stories","Fairy tales"],"text":"</pre>\n\n\n\nProduced by David Edwards and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was\nproduced from images generously made available by The\nInternet Archive)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n  [Illustration: \"And now, Yvonne, to set your mind at rest, gaze into\n  the pool at your feet.\"\n                                     _Frontispiece._--_See Page 168._]\n\n\n\n\n  THE GREEN FOREST FAIRY BOOK\n\n\n\n\n  THE\n  GREEN FOREST\n  FAIRY BOOK\n\n  BY\n  LORETTA ELLEN BRADY\n\n  WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY\n  ALICE B PRESTON\n\n  [Illustration]\n\n  LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY\n  BOSTON\n\n\n\n  _Copyright, 1920_,\n  BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY.\n\n  _All rights reserved_\n\n\n\n\n  TO THE BOYS AND GIRLS\n  OF LITTLE JIM WARDS\n  SAN FRANCISCO CHILDREN'S HOSPITAL\n  IN LOVING REMEMBRANCE OF\n  OUR TWILIGHT STORY-HOURS\n  THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n  CHAPTER                                               PAGE\n       PROLOGUE                                            1\n     I DAME GRUMBLE AND HER CURIOUS APPLE-TREE             6\n    II A TALE OF THE NORTHLAND KINGDOM                    61\n   III THE LITTLE TREE THAT NEVER GREW UP                 92\n    IV THE TALE OF PUNCHINELLO                           109\n     V THE STRANGE TALE OF THE BROWN BEAR                125\n    VI THE BEGGAR PRINCESS                               132\n   VII SWEEP AND LITTLE SWEEP                            170\n  VIII KINGS AND QUEENS AND PEASANT FOLK                 216\n    IX THE GOOSE GIRL AND THE BLUE GANDER                231\n     X THE LITTLE BROWN MAN                              239\n    XI A TALE FOR HALLOWEEN                              248\n\n\n\n\nILLUSTRATIONS\n\n\n                                                                  PAGE\n\n  \"And now, Yvonne, to set your mind at rest\n  gaze into the pool at your feet\"                      _Frontispiece_\n\n  \"Oh, you wicked creature!\" Dame Grumble would\n  exclaim when he began to shake the Apple Tree                      9\n\n  For many days these three companions journeyed\n  on through soft white clouds                                      86\n\n  From this bag the Night Wind begged a dream\n  for the Little Tree                                               96\n\n  \"Look, look, dear Punchinello!\" little Beppo\n  cried. \"I am no longer lame\"                                     116\n\n  \"Hide me, Little Sweep,\" cried Red Cap.\n  \"My brother is after me\"                                         175\n\n  So at last, after much thought, the goose girl\n  did as the blue gander bade                                      237\n\n  It was the gayest company one ever could\n  imagine, as they marched along                                   262\n\n\n\n\nTHE GREEN FOREST FAIRY BOOK\n\n\n\n\nPROLOGUE\n\n\nLong, long ago, when all the world was young and there were but few\npeople dwelling on it, the strangest things could often come to pass.\nThen fairyfolk still lived in the greenwoods and elves sang and danced\nin the soft summer dawns. Then trees could sing and flowers speak and\nbirds would carry messages about the world; wild beasts were often loyal\nfriends to men and helped them in their difficulties. In these old days,\nmost noble dukes and earls would fall in love with dairymaids whose\ngentle ways and manners charmed their hearts. Sometimes great kings grew\nweary of the splendor of their courts and left their thrones to live as\nsimple peasants. Each princess had a fairy godmother who showered her\nwith magic gifts. Then wise men read the stars and seers would gaze in\ncrystal bowls to tell the coming good or ill they saw.\n\nIn those old days, the housewives left a bit of bread and cheese upon\nthe pantry shelf each evening, that the brownie who was said to dwell in\nevery kitchen might have a midnight feast. These brownies, 'twas said\nalso, would make much mischief if they were not treated very well. In\nearly dawns, when fields of flowers were asparkle in the sun, the\nmilkmaids used to bathe their eyes and ears with dew that they might see\nthe fairyfolk forever afterward and hear them sing at midnight in the\nglen. The farmers' boys would search among the hedges in hopes of\nmeeting The Red Caps who were said to bring much luck. These Red Caps\ntoo were said to give a magic purse of gold to those they fancied,--a\npurse that was always brimful no matter what was spent from it. The\nwitches still rode broomsticks through the skies and there were wishing\nwells and magic charms and spells.\n\nIn those delightful days of which I tell, there were not scores and\nscores of books as there are now. Travelers journeying about the world\ntold tales of the wonders that they saw and heard. It was not then\nthought strange that kings and queens or royal counselors and such wise\nfolk should love to hear these wonder tales. In those dear days, indeed,\nthe grown folk all loved wonder tales as well as children love them now\nand were not worse because of it. Sometimes these wonder tales were told\nby magic chairs or chests; sometimes by birds or beasts that were\nenchanted and had power of speech.\n\nIt has been related that in those olden days there was a lovely bird\nwith plumage all of the purest gold and it was called The Golden Bird.\nThe Golden Bird had a voice so rare and sweet that when it sang the\nnightingales stopped midway in their songs to listen. The Golden Bird\nlikewise possessed the gift of speech and could tell wonder tales the\nlike of which were never heard before or since. When it began to sing in\nany land, news that The Golden Bird had come spread swiftly everywhere.\nThe king would then declare a holiday which lasted all the time The\nGolden Bird was in the land. The people hastened to the greenwood and\nthere beneath the trees would listen while The Golden Bird told wonder\ntales and sang for their delight. And thus, The Golden Bird flew all\nabout the world, to every land and clime, beloved by all folk\neverywhere.\n\nBut sad to tell, at last there came a time when The Golden Bird was seen\nno more. The folk of every land looked anxiously for its return and\nthought it stayed too long in other places. But years passed by and\nstill The Golden Bird came not. Then travelers journeying about the\nworld declared The Golden Bird was nowhere to be found and all the\npeople mourned at these sad tidings. Some thought the lovely bird had\nperished at some greedy hunter's hand; others said the world had grown\ntoo wicked for The Golden Bird to dwell here any longer. However, what\nhad happened to the lovely creature, no one ever knew.\n\nBut sadder still to tell is this: When The Golden Bird was seen to fly\nabout the earth no more, the people did not hold its memory dear. As\ntime passed on and it came not, they thought about it less and less and\nvery few recalled the wonder tales The Golden Bird had told. Then as the\nworld grew older and all folk began to doubt about the fairies and to\nscoff at wishing wells, The Golden Bird was quite forgot by all save\none. This one, a little girl who tended flocks upon a mountain, gazed in\nthe clouds at dawn each day in hopes to see The Golden Bird come\nsoaring. Sometimes she wept because The Golden Bird came not. At last,\nto please the child, her aged grandame, who had heard The Golden Bird\ntell wonder tales when she had been a child, took pen and ink and wrote\nthem down as she remembered them. She wrote, 't is said, a hundred tales\nor more but through the ages that have passed between they have been\nlost, until there are but eleven; these are the eleven that I have set\ndown in The Green Forest Fairy Book.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nDAME GRUMBLE AND HER CURIOUS APPLE TREE\n\n\nI\n\nLong, long ago, in a country quite close to the top of the earth, where\nthe North Wind blew fiercely each spring, there lived a woman called\nDame Grumble. Now Dame Grumble had an Apple Tree which she loved\nexceedingly, although it vexed her beyond all compare. It was a very\nfine large tree, and well shaped for shade, just the sort of tree that\nshould have yielded a bushel or two of fruit each autumn; but it did\nnot. Each year when the cuckoo flew over the earth, calling the trees\nand flowers to waken because spring was come again, the Apple Tree would\nbe covered with clouds upon clouds of fragrant, pinky-white blossoms.\nThen Dame Grumble's heart would rejoice. But no sooner was the Apple\nTree thus bedecked than the North Wind would blow furiously, tearing\noff the blossoms and carrying them off in clouds. The curious part of it\nall was this: When a few of the blossoms chanced to fall to the ground,\nthey made a chinking sound like that of small coins in children's banks.\nThen when these blossoms had withered, Dame Grumble would find nice, new\nshining pennies where they had lain. From this she supposed the Apple\nTree would one day bear apples of gold.\n\nNow Dame Grumble, it must be confessed, was not very amiable. Indeed, it\nwas from her nature that she drew her name. Some said Dame Grumble\ncomplained from the time she rose in the morning until she sought her\nbed at night. Even then she complained of her hard pillow or thin\ncoverlets until she fell asleep. Her poor son, Freyo, thought his mother\nmust surely grumble all night in her dreams, for on waking each day she\nbegan directly where she had left off the night before. Many a time this\npoor lad wished that he were not lame, but could go out in the world to\nseek his way for himself. Dame Grumble led him a dreadful life.\n\nIf the day were hot, Dame Grumble thought longingly of the days when the\nsnow lay on the ground and she sat in comfort before the blazing logs.\nBut when the winter came again, she complained bitterly because she had\nto break the ice on the well each morning. She declared it was a shame,\nsince she had but one son, that he should be lame, and thus be a burden\ninstead of a staff. Her ceaseless scolding and carping often made poor\nFreyo so miserable that he would put aside his wood carving, for he had\nno heart to work. If the East Wind blew ever so lightly, Dame Grumble\ncomplained that it gave her strange pains in her face, and would wish\ninstead for the West Wind, which she thought mild and gentle. But when\nthe West Wind blew over the forest and fields and dried the linen she\nspread on the hedges, Dame Grumble cried out that he was a thieving\ncreature. She would hasten to gather her dried linens, vowing all the\nwhile that the West Wind would steal them if he dared. Oh, there was no\npleasing Dame Grumble! Freyo, her son, was well aware of that.\n\nNow seeing that Dame Grumble was of a disposition to grumble and\ncomplain when there was no cause at all, you may have some idea of her\nbitter feeling when the North Wind robbed her of her apple blossoms each\nspring.\n\n  [Illustration: \"Oh, you wicked creature!\" Dame Grumble would exclaim\n  when he began to shake the Apple Tree.--_Page 9._]\n\n\"Oh, you wicked creature!\" Dame Grumble would exclaim when he began to\nshake the Apple Tree. \"Just wait, and some day I will catch you and shut\nyou up in some dark place where you shall remain forever. No one would\nmiss you. The North Wind is the most hated wind that blows!\"\n\n\"Indeed, Dame Grumble!\" the North Wind would reply. \"How would the boys\nand girls ever skate if I did not blow in winter time? How would the\nforest and orchards ever have time to make their new green leaves and\nflowers for the springtime, if I did not lock the earth tight each\nwinter? You make a mistake, Madam. The North Wind would be keenly\nmourned and missed. But beware! Some day I will catch you and carry you\noff to a certain desert island in the middle of the sea, and there you\nmay complain for all your days.\"\n\nThen the North Wind would roar and blow his hardest, and Dame Grumble's\npetticoats would spread out like sails, until she feared she might be\nblown away, and would seek refuge in the cottage. There in anger she\nwould watch the clouds of blossoms blown from her favorite tree. When\nthe North Wind had gone off again, she would rush out and scold the\nApple Tree severely.\n\n\"Oh! Such a tree!\" Dame Grumble would exclaim in vexation. \"If you would\nbut cling more firmly to your blossoms, at least a few would remain on\nyour branches, and then I should have a golden harvest. From the pennies\nI find where your blossoms have withered, I am quite sure that you would\nbear apples of gold, if you bore apples at all. Then I could sell these\ngolden apples and make a fortune for myself.\"\n\n\"But, Dame Grumble,\" the Apple Tree would protest, \"you cannot withstand\nthe North Wind, either. Your petticoats spread out like sails, and you\ncan scarcely keep your feet on the ground.\"\n\n\"And what of that?\" Dame Grumble would answer crossly. \"I have but two\nfeet, while you have roots as numerous as your branches. Moreover, they\nreach far down beneath the earth, and there spread far and wide as your\ntopmost boughs. You are stronger than I. You should fight the North\nWind, who is naught but a wicked robber in disguise. I am sure that he\nhas stored up a fortune in pennies from my blossoms that he has stolen\nthis many a long year.\" Then Dame Grumble would shake the Apple Tree\nuntil Freyo would beg her to stop.\n\nIt must not be supposed that Dame Grumble did not contrive various ways\nto save her blossoms from her enemy. Indeed, she spent many hours every\nday thinking of plans to defeat the North Wind, but she had never\nsucceeded. All one winter she worked in the cold and snow, chopping tall\nthorn branches to make a barrier about the Apple Tree. \"Thorn branches\nare very strong, and will protect the Apple Tree,\" thought she. Freyo\ntold his mother this was useless work, but she would pay no heed to what\nhe said.\n\n\"Then, Mother,\" pleaded the poor lad, \"since you will not stay indoors\nthis bitter weather, please bring me a branch of walnut from the\nforest. I would like to carve a clock-case in a certain design I have in\nmind. If I had but proper tools for wood carving and a store of oak and\nwalnut, I might one day make a fortune for you. Then you would have no\nlonger need to quarrel with the North Wind about the blossoms.\"\n\n\"Oh, hold your silly tongue!\" cried Dame Grumble. \"A great simpleton I\nwould be to sit here quietly and wait for you to make a fortune with\nyour bits of woods! Each year the North Wind steals a fortune in pennies\nfrom me, and I mean to try to stop him if I can. Should I find a bit of\nwalnut that will fit into my pocket, you may have it; otherwise you must\ndo without.\"\n\nPoor Freyo had but few tools, and those few were very poor;\nnevertheless, he had skillful fingers and could carve lovely pictures in\nwood. Dame Grumble always laughed scornfully when the lad spoke of the\nfortune he hoped one day to make. To her mind, wood carving and clumsy\nchests and clock-cases were naught but folly. She rarely remembered to\nbring Freyo a branch of wood from the forest. Dame Grumble was always\nthinking of her blossoms and her enemy, the North Wind, and had no time\nto think of Freyo. So the poor lad had to content himself with bits of\nwood he found in the chimney corner, and he carved frames and treasure\nboxes from these.\n\nNow, as we have told, all one winter Dame Grumble worked diligently\ndragging thorn branches from the forest, until she had a great heap.\nWhen the snow began to melt, she planted these branches of thorn about\nher favorite tree. Then when the Apple Tree was decked once more in\nclouds upon clouds of fragrant, pinky-white blossoms, the North Wind\ncame roaring over the fields and lanes. He laughed loudly when he saw\nthe barrier of thorn branches.\n\n\"And so, Dame Grumble,\" cried the North Wind, \"you do not know my\nstrength better than this!\" Seizing a branch of the thorn, he tore it\nfrom the ground as though it had been a twig and hurled it in the air.\nThen he did likewise to the rest, and in half an hour he had torn up\nevery vestige of Dame Grumble's barrier.\n\n\"Many times I have left you a few blossoms, Dame Grumble,\" he cried, as\nhe blew on his way, \"but you have never thanked me for the pennies, so\nthis time you shall have none.\"\n\nNaturally Dame Grumble was more vexed than ever before. She shook the\nApple Tree with fury and left off only when she was too weary to shake\nit longer. All evening she scolded so bitterly that Freyo wished himself\nfar away. Life with this scolding dame was far from pleasant for the\npoor lame lad. Still he never complained. \"Mother complains enough for\nboth,\" thought he.\n\nWhen Dame Grumble arose next morning, she had another plan in mind. \"My\nson,\" said she, \"I am going on a journey to seek in all places for the\nfortune in pennies which my wicked enemy, the North Wind, has stolen\nfrom me. When I have found it, I shall return, and all things will be\nwell. I shall buy you a fine coach and build a noble house where we\nshall live like kings and queens, and there we shall be very happy, I\ndaresay.\"\n\n\"But, Mother!\" cried Freyo in dismay, \"the North Wind travels all over\nthe earth, and that you cannot do. When winter comes what will you do\nfor shelter? Besides, I do not long for a coach, but for a crutch\ninstead; and as for happiness--it is to be found in kind hearts rather\nthan in noble houses. In our little cottage we could be as happy as\nkings and queens, if you would but leave off scolding and be content.\"\n\n\"That shows how little you know!\" replied Dame Grumble. \"I cannot be\ncontent without a fortune, and a fortune I mean to have. If I have not\nfound the hollow that I seek before winter comes again, I shall return.\nBut I have a feeling that my search will not be all in vain.\" Then,\nbidding Freyo take good care of the cottage, Dame Grumble tied on her\nbonnet and shawl and set out on her journey.\n\nWhen Dame Grumble had gone, Freyo was greatly puzzled. He was not sure\nthat he was really lonely. He missed his mother's presence about the\ncottage because she was a famous housewife, always busy with some savory\nbroth, or baking great loaves of brown bread. However, he was relieved\nthat he did not hear her sharp tongue scolding all day long. He\ncarefully tidied the kitchen until it looked spotless and shining, as\nthough Dame Grumble herself had done it. Then he sat down before his\nbench. While he was working, Freyo paused; he thought he heard his name\ncalled softly.\n\n\"Freyo, Freyo!\" spoke a gentle voice. \"Only come to the door, and you\ncan see me. I have something to tell you that will make you happy.\nPlease do come!\" Freyo set down his work and hobbled to the door.\n\n\"It is I, the Apple Tree,\" spoke the voice again; \"come nearer that I\nmay talk to you. You have always been kind to me, when Dame Grumble has\nabused me, Freyo, and now I shall reward you.\"\n\nFreyo made his way to the Apple Tree, and she continued: \"Do you see my\ntwo stoutest branches quite close to the ground? These I mean to give\nyou for crutches.\"\n\n\"Oh, Apple Tree!\" cried Freyo. \"I would not cut off your branches! I\nwould not give you such pain.\"\n\n\"But cutting off these two branches of mine will cause me no great\npain,\" the Apple Tree insisted. \"They are over-heavy, and next spring\nwhen the North Wind blows, I fear that he will snap them off. What the\nNorth Wind cannot bend he will break, as well you know. When you have\nmade your crutches, you may go to the forest and gather more wood for\nyour work of wood carving, until you have the store that you desire.\"\n\nAt last Freyo was persuaded. The branches were cut, and all day long he\nsat beneath the Apple Tree, while he fashioned a pair of crutches. By\nevening they were finished, and when he slept that night, Freyo dreamed\nof wandering in the greenwood; he had never yet been so far from the\ncottage door.\n\n\"How well you have done!\" exclaimed the Apple Tree next morning, when\nFreyo stepped out briskly on his crutches.\n\n\"And you too have done well,\" replied the lad. \"I see two tufts of green\nleaves already at work to cover the places where I cut your branches.\"\nHe waved farewell to the Apple Tree and set upon his way. Freyo was gone\nthe whole day long. When the sun set that evening, he had not returned,\nand even when the moon rose slowly, still he did not come. The Apple\nTree began to worry and to fret lest her branches had not proved strong\nenough for crutches. Then presently she saw Freyo with a heavy pannier\nstrapped upon his back; but not one bit of oak or walnut wood had he.\n\n\"Ah, Apple Tree!\" cried he, \"never in my life have I been happy as I was\nto-day. Only to wander beneath the trees and see the blue forget-me-nots\nthat make a lovely carpet underfoot, or to hear the birds sing sweetly\nwas like paradise. I wished the whole world were one great forest, and\nthat the time were always spring. I could not bear to come away!\"\n\n\"But Freyo,\" said the Apple Tree, \"you have brought nothing for your\nwork! How will you make chests and clock-cases?\"\n\n\"I could not find it in my heart to cut the smallest twig,\" confessed\nthe lad. \"The trees looked all so beautiful and stately that it seemed\nto me a shame. Instead I gathered brown bells and forget-me-nots to\nplant about your roots. I am sure you must be lonely in this bare\nwind-swept spot, and they will serve for company.\"\n\n\"Now that was kind,\" replied the Apple Tree, \"but you must now give heed\nto what I say. In the forest there are many trees that will gladly give\nyou a fine branch or two. When next you go there, tell them that you are\nthe friend of the Apple Tree whose blossoms fall to earth with a\nchinking sound, like small coins in children's banks. Then they will\nknow you and will be generous as I have been. Besides, I warn you that\nat the first approach of winter, Dame Grumble will return. She will be\ncrosser than ever, for she will never find the fortune in pennies that\nshe seeks. Now be advised, Freyo, and gather a goodly store of oak and\nwalnut while you may.\"\n\nWhen Freyo went again to the forest, he told the message of the Apple\nTree to the tall pines and low bending oaks, and to shady maples too.\nThese trees all gave him such a bounteous supply of boughs and branches\nthat Freyo soon had store to last him for his carving a whole year or\nmore.\n\n'T was well he had. One day as he sat working beneath the Apple Tree, he\nnoticed that the leaves fell fast and that the wind blew chill. Another\nmorning, when the maples on the hillsides flamed like fire, Freyo heard\na shrill familiar voice borne on the air, and presently Dame Grumble\nherself appeared before the cottage door.\n\nNow, as the Apple Tree had foretold, Dame Grumble was crosser than ever.\nShe had not found the fortune in pennies she had sought, and she was out\nof humor with her journey. She vowed she had not had one pleasant moment\nfrom the time she had set out; she said that she had longed unceasingly\nfor her little cottage. Dame Grumble solemnly declared that she had done\nwith journeys forevermore and looked forward to great happiness, now\nthat she was home at last. She praised Freyo's housekeeping and said the\ncottage looked as tidy as a pin. When she had laid aside her bonnet and\nshawl, she began to make a fine supper for him.\n\n\"How nice that you have crutches, my son, and can get about so well!\"\nshe cried with pleasure.\n\n\"Are they not a blessing, Mother?\" asked Freyo. \"They are not bad for a\npoor lad who never before had seen a crutch, but made them just as best\nhe knew.\"\n\nDame Grumble continued to praise the crutches and to admire them until\nshe learned that they were made from branches of the Apple Tree. Then\nshe was furious; her anger knew no bounds. She rushed out to the Apple\nTree and shook it with all her might. Then she ran in to throw the\ncrutches in the fire, but this Freyo would not permit.\n\n\"The Apple Tree herself gave me her branches, Mother,\" said he, \"and the\ncrutches are mine.\"\n\n\"Give them to me at once, I say!\" stormed Dame Grumble. \"The Apple Tree\nis mine, and consequently her branches are mine also. I must punish you\nfor this disobedience. Do you not know that I prize the Apple Tree above\nall else on earth? Do I not expect a harvest of golden apples from it\nsome day? Now when that day is come, I shall not have nearly so many,\nbecause of your wickedness. Why did you cut as much as a twig from the\nApple Tree?\"\n\n\"Mother,\" answered Freyo, \"if there be any harm done, it is done. To\nburn the crutches will not make the branches grow upon the Apple Tree\nagain.\" Dame Grumble first commanded and then entreated that her son\ngive her the crutches to burn, but Freyo was firm. At last she burst\ninto tears.\n\n\"Oh! Oh!\" she sobbed. \"It is not enough that I have had many troubles\nand cares in the past; each year my wicked enemy, the North Wind, steals\na fortune in pennies from me! And now added to this I must suffer\ndisobedience from my own ungrateful son.\" She sobbed and wailed until\nFreyo was nearly distracted.\n\n\"Oh, Mother!\" he begged. \"If you would only cease your weeping and look\nat these wonderful things I have made in your absence. Here is a\nclock-case with the four seasons carved upon it. The hours are told by\ntwelve lovely nymphs dancing through the forest; it is a treasure worthy\nof a king. Some day a duke may come a-riding by and fancy it--then, who\nknows--my fortune may be made, and I would give it all to you, Mother.\"\n\nIn spite of all his pleadings, however, Dame Grumble would not look at\nhis treasures. She was so deep in her woes that she could think of\nnothing else. She would not touch a crumb of supper but said mournfully\nthat she had no heart for either food or drink.\n\nFreyo sat before the fire, sad and desolate. With the scolding dame's\nreturn, the quiet and contentment of the little cottage had fled. \"Ah,\"\nsighed the poor lad, \"I have no doubt that Mother is right; perhaps I am\nwicked and ungrateful after all.\"\n\n\nII\n\nDuring the winter that followed, Dame Grumble led her son a dreadful\nlife. He could no longer talk to his good friend, the Apple Tree, for\nshe was sleeping her deep winter's sleep and would not waken until the\nspring. So while the snow whirled high without and piled itself in\ndrifts at door and chimney, Freyo sat patiently carving his great oaken\nchests and settles. When he carved fields of wheat with wild fowl flying\nover, the poor lad fancied himself afield once more; when he carved\nforest scenes, he lived again the memories of his happy summer. If Dame\nGrumble spoke to her son, it was but to call him wicked and ungrateful.\nShe often vowed she would forgive him if he would but give her the\ncrutches to burn. But Freyo had a plan in mind. With the first sign of\nspring, he meant to be off and seek his own way in the world, and this\nhe could never do without his precious crutches. The poor lad had no\ndesire to spend another winter with this cross, fault-finding dame.\n\nNow, as was her usual fashion, Dame Grumble spent much time in planning\nmeans to spare the blossoms of the Apple Tree. It happened that on her\njourney she had found a book which told of orchard trees and how to care\nfor them. So in this book Dame Grumble now began to study diligently.\nShe found a picture of an apple tree encased with strong, coarse\nnetting. This strong, coarse netting, so the book said, would protect\nthe fruit and blossoms from all harm. Accordingly, Dame Grumble sat her\ndown before her wheel and spun endless miles of heavy thread. From this\nshe next wove yards upon yards of strong, coarse netting. Often and\noften Freyo begged his mother to cease this useless labor. The North\nWind would soon tear the whole thing into shreds, said he. You may be\nsure Dame Grumble always had a sharp retort for him.\n\n\"Had I a son who was a comfort and a blessing, I have no doubt that he\nwould long ago have found a way to save my precious blossoms from the\nNorth Wind,\" she would say. \"I daresay, too, that I would have had a\nharvest of golden apples long since. Even now I might be dwelling in\nsome noble mansion with slaves to do my bidding and a different carriage\nfor every day in the week!\"\n\nSo the winter dragged on wearily. At last the snow began to melt, and\nthe sunbeams to make bright spots on the kitchen floor. The hedges here\nand there showed patches of green leaves; the birds returned from the\nsouthland whither they had gone for the winter. Forget-me-nots and brown\nbells blossomed about the Apple Tree, and the green grass for miles\nabout was thick with yellow buttercups. It was then the Apple Tree awoke\nfrom her winter's sleep and decked herself in clouds of fragrant,\npinky-white blossoms. Then it was that Dame Grumble went forth from her\ncottage with yards upon yards of strong, coarse netting with which she\ncovered her favorite tree. Seeing the bare places that marked the two\nmissing branches, she cried out afresh that she was a sad, sorrowful\nwoman and had too many cares.\n\nWhile Dame Grumble was thus occupied, Freyo unlocked the cupboard where\nhe had hidden his precious crutches. But, alas! The wood of the Apple\nTree was not suitable for such use, and the crutches fell to pieces when\nhe touched them. Freyo tried to mend them here and join them there, but\nit was in vain. They broke again in other places. Now when Dame Grumble\nlearned this, she vowed it was a just punishment for Freyo's\ndisobedience. However, with her usual perverseness, she took no more\ninterest in the crutches. She did not trouble to burn them, and there\nthey lay in the cupboard for many a long day.\n\n\"You will obey your mother when she commands, another time, I daresay,\"\nshe would often remark, and point to the useless, broken things.\n\nNow that spring was come, it was not long before Dame Grumble's old\nenemy, the North Wind, came also. Shouting and hallooing he blew over\nthe fields and forests one sunshiny day, and when he reached the Apple\nTree, he stopped still in amazement.\n\n\"Ho! Ho! Ho!\" laughed the North Wind, \"who has thus cleverly covered the\nApple Tree?\"\n\n\"I have!\" shouted Dame Grumble from within her cottage, where she had\nrun to hide. \"Now you had best be off, for you can never undo this\nstrong, coarse netting I have woven; it is tied in a thousand tight\nknots!\"\n\n\"Ah! is it indeed, Dame Grumble?\" inquired the North Wind with mock\npoliteness. \"Will you kindly have patience for a little until I try my\nskill?\" With that he blew a blast that unloosed all the yards upon yards\nof strong, coarse netting and bore them off like puffs of thistledown.\nDame Grumble's heart sank; but, strange to say, the North Wind did not\nblow away the blossoms of the Apple Tree. Instead, he lingered about the\ncottage until night fell and played all manner of tricks to bring Dame\nGrumble running out. He blew soot down the chimney and blackened the\nclean-scrubbed kitchen floor; he put out her candle when she had lighted\nit for evening; and whisked her linen from the hedges into the fields\nand far away. Not one word of anger or reproach would Dame Grumble\nutter, even so. If the North Wind would but spare the blossoms of the\nApple Tree, nothing else mattered. At last the North Wind grew weary of\nhis teasing and departed.\n\n\"Just you wait, Dame Grumble!\" he called in farewell. \"Some day I shall\ncatch you unaware, and I will carry you off to that desert island that\nwaits to welcome you as Queen of Grumblers!\" Then he blew on his way.\n\nDame Grumble waited, fearful lest perhaps he would return, but the North\nWind returned no more that spring. The blossoms on the Apple Tree began\nto wither, and presently tiny fruit began to form on its branches. It\nseemed at last as though Dame Grumble would gather the harvest of golden\napples for which she had so longed; but even so, this cross,\nfault-finding dame was not content.\n\n\"Alack!\" she often mourned, \"if I had had this strong, coarse netting\nyears ago, I would have had many a golden harvest long ere this. Without\ndoubt this covering hath a charm above the power of the North Wind. Had\nI a son to assist me, I daresay he would have thought about it long\nsince.\"\n\n\"But, Mother, I cannot help it that I am lame and do not assist you,\"\nsighed Freyo.\n\n\"But you can help it when you are wicked and disobedient; and wicked and\ndisobedient you were when you cut the two stout branches of the Apple\nTree. For now, though I shall gather golden apples, there will not be\nnearly so many because of your rash act.\"\n\nSo the springtime passed and the summertime came. Day by day the fruit\non the Apple Tree grew larger, and day by day Dame Grumble took pencil\nand paper to count the number of apples that hung upon each branch. She\ntried each day to reckon just how many more she would have had but for\nthe branches Freyo had cut off, and every day she grew vexed afresh.\nDame Grumble would not permit Freyo to go near the Apple Tree. She vowed\nhe might take a notion to cut down the whole tree, for all she knew.\n\nThe summer grew older; the meadows turned brown, and the fields grew\nbare. Dame Grumble watched eagerly for a sign which would show that the\napples were turning to gold; but no sign she saw. The apples turned\nbright red instead. The summer began to wane, and a sharp chill in the\nair warned Dame Grumble that winter was not far away. The maples on the\nhillsides flamed crimson and scarlet once again, and yellow leaves fell\nfrom the poplar trees like rain.\n\n\"Now can it be that you are going to disappoint me!\" exclaimed Dame\nGrumble to the Apple Tree. \"Why, pray, do not your apples turn to gold?\"\n\n\"How you talk, Dame Grumble!\" replied the Apple Tree. \"You will be\ndisappointed no matter what happens! Though I gave you a thousand golden\napples, you would never cease to mourn that you might have had a hundred\nmore had not Freyo cut off my two branches. Then you would make the poor\nlad's life more miserable than ever. I sometimes wonder that you are not\nashamed to plague and torment him as you do. You do not deserve golden\napples, and I will not give you golden apples. So you had best make\nhaste and gather these red apples of mine before the frost will nip\nthem.\"\n\nBut this Dame Grumble would not do. She was assured that the red apples\nwould turn to gold, in spite of the Apple Tree. For if young and tender\nblossoms yielded bright new shining pennies, did it not follow that the\nripened fruit would be of purest gold? Dame Grumble so believed. \"The\nApple Tree does not love me and never did,\" she thought within herself;\n\"it is but a plan to make me angry.\"\n\nBy and by the leaves fell from the Apple Tree itself, until its branches\nwere quite bare and brown. The apples shone tantalizingly red, and then\nDame Grumble realized at last that they would never change to golden, as\nshe hoped. Now this new disappointment, you may be sure, did not tend to\nsweeten her disposition. All day she sat gazing mournfully at her\nfavorite tree and wept bitter tears at her new loss.\n\n\"Oh, Mother, pray do not weep so!\" begged Freyo. \"You will make yourself\nill. My store of wood is gone; but if you would bring me two stout\nbranches from the forest, I would fashion another pair of crutches for\nmyself. Then I would set off to make a fortune to take the place of this\nfortune you fancy you have lost.\"\n\n\"Fancy I have lost!\" repeated Dame Grumble scornfully. \"The fortune I\n_fancy_ I have lost! I do not fancy I have lost a fortune; I know full\nwell I have lost a fortune. Besides, who would give a copper farthing\nfor your clumsy chests and boxes!\"\n\nSo all day long Dame Grumble dwelt on her woes. At night she sat sighing\nin the chimney corner until the little cottage quite close to the top of\nthe earth was as dull and gloomy as though a thousand crows had settled\nsuddenly upon it.\n\n\nIII\n\nNow it happened at this time, when all Dame Grumble's troubles seemed\ntoo many to be borne, that the good dame and her son enjoyed a visitor.\nVisitors in that country quite close to the top of the earth were very\nrare, you may be sure. This visitor was not an ordinary sort of person;\nfar from that was he, indeed. Because he journeyed ceaselessly about the\nearth and was well known to folk of many lands, he was called the\nTraveler. But though he roamed thus everywhere, the Traveler seemed\nnever bound for any certain land or country but went his ways just as\nthe winds of heaven went theirs. The Traveler never remained long in\nany city or village, nevertheless he stayed long enough to do a kindness\nfor some sad one, or to help some poor one on his way. Few people ever\ncould agree about his age; the old thought him young, and the young\nthought him old. However, young and old alike agreed that the Traveler\nseemed possessed of magic powers to banish cares and troubles. Wherever\nhe found quarrels and spites, he left love and kindliness; where he\nfound envy, he left content; where he went once, the Traveler always\nfound a warm welcome awaiting him on his return.\n\nWhat was the secret source of the Traveler's noble qualities was a\nmystery to all folk. Some said the Traveler kept his cheerful spirit\nbecause of a certain great cloak that he always wore. This cloak, they\nsaid, was made of wool woven from the fleece of fairy sheep and had\ngreat powers of happiness. Others said that in a far-off country the\nTraveler had drunk deeply of a certain magic well, the waters of which\nwere said to bless one with a kindly heart forevermore. Still others\nthought the Traveler's power over cares and sorrow lay in the plain\nwood staff he always carried. But though the secret of his soothing\ncharm was thus uncertain, certain it was that the Traveler paid a visit\nto Dame Grumble and her son one chill autumn evening, and the story of\nit all is this:\n\nIt happened one day, as the Traveler was walking along the road that led\nup to the country quite close to the top of the earth, he chanced to\nmeet the North Wind. Now the North Wind loved to tease and play his\ntricks on every one, and so he seized the Traveler's hat and blew it\nfive fields off; he swept stinging dust into his eyes and wrapped his\ncloak so tightly around him that but for his staff the Traveler would\nhave stumbled. Though he was so bothered and annoyed, the Traveler did\nnot complain. He loosed his cloak and wiped his eyes of the dust, then\nonce again he set upon his way.\n\n\"Ah,\" said the Traveler, \"it is a strong wind that blows here; but how\nclean the road is swept in consequence! It is also a good wind.\"\n\nThe North Wind had expected blame instead of praise and was abashed. So\nstraightway he brought back the hat, and then he blew gently in the\ndirection which would best suit the Traveler's footsteps. So it was that\nthis visitor knocked at Dame Grumble's cottage one evening just at\ncandlelight. The Traveler begged her hospitality, and Dame Grumble bade\nhim enter. She placed a chair before the hearth and began to prepare a\nsupper for him. All the while she complained most bitterly that she\nshould thus receive a guest in her kitchen. When she set forth the\nsupper, Dame Grumble sighed because the bread was brown instead of\nwhite.\n\n\"Never sigh, Dame Grumble!\" urged the Traveler with his kindly smile.\n\"Seldom have I seen a pleasanter kitchen, and never have I eaten better\nfare. Your brown bread is fit for a king, and your broth would give\ncourage to a weary army!\"\n\n\"That is all very well for you to say, good sir,\" replied Dame Grumble\nsulkily, \"but you do not know all my troubles.\" She did not often find\none to give ear to her tale of sorrow, and if the Traveler would, Dame\nGrumble meant that he should hear her. Above all else in the world,\nDame Grumble loved to talk about her woes.\n\n\"Then perhaps after supper, when you sit before the fire, you will tell\nme of your troubles, good dame,\" said the Traveler. You may be sure Dame\nGrumble agreed. Indeed, so eager was she to begin that she hummed a\nlively tune to hasten her work. At the unusual sound of his mother's\nsinging, Freyo left his bench to learn the cause of it. When he saw the\nTraveler, he greeted him with warmth.\n\n\"We do not often have a visitor, good sir,\" said he, \"so I shall leave\nmy work and join you by the fireside.\"\n\n\"But first,\" exclaimed the Traveler, \"you must let me see this work of\nyours; you must dearly love it, thus to be about it after darkness has\nfallen and all men sit to take their ease.\"\n\n\"Good sir,\" replied Freyo, \"my work is wood carving, and I do love it\nbetter than the whole world!\"\n\nThe Traveler regarded the great chests and clock-cases with deep\nadmiration and begged Freyo to tell him of his work; of whom he had\nlearned his skill; and whence his designs had come. To these questions\nFreyo replied that he did not know, he supposed he had taught himself.\n\n\"Good sir,\" said he, \"some folk make pictures on a canvas with bright\ncolored oils and brilliant paints, and other folk make pictures with\nfair words, as they tell wonder tales. I have not skill like those, but\nI have dreamed bright dreams and have loved to sit and carve my dreams\nupon my chests of oak and walnut wood. Think you that my skill is fair\nor that my pictures would please aught beside myself, who carved them?\"\n\n\"I have no words to tell you how high I hold your skill,\" declared the\nTraveler, \"and as for the pictures you have carved in wood, they would\ndelight a queen or please a king as well. They are truly lovely.\"\n\n\"Then, good sir,\" replied Freyo, \"to the Apple Tree that stands before\nour door you must give all this praise. The summer before the summer\nthat has just passed, this good tree of her own accord did give me her\ntwo stoutest branches, from which I made a pair of crutches. Then I\ncould wander in the woods from dawn till dark, and hear the birds sing\nsongs the whole day long. 'T was then I learned to dream my finest\ndreams; it was like heaven, sir!\" The poor lad sighed in memory of the\nhappy time, and before he could say more, Dame Grumble interrupted. The\ngood dame could no longer restrain her tongue or her impatience, it\nseemed.\n\n\"Now, good sir!\" cried she, \"you have heard my son; you must hear me.\nThe Apple Tree was not an ordinary tree, as my son knew very well! He\ndid wrong to cut the smallest twig whilst I was gone.\n\n\"Each year, when the cuckoo came calling in the spring, there was no\nfiner sight in all the world than the Apple Tree. So thick was it with\nblossoms that scarce a branch or twig could be seen. Its fragrance\nfloated on the breeze, drawing every bee and butterfly for leagues and\nleagues about. Surely with such a tree I might look for a bounteous\nharvest, one would think. But, alas! No sooner was the Apple Tree thus\ndecked like a bride than my wicked enemy, the North Wind, would come and\nblow these blossoms far away. But mark you now the wonder of my tale: a\nfew blossoms would sometimes fall beneath the tree, and when they fell\nthey made a chinking sound like that of small coins in children's banks.\nWhen they had withered, I always found bright, new shining pennies where\nthey had lain.\n\n\"Now from this curious fact I have believed that when the Apple Tree\nwould bear fruit, the apples would be of gold. If young and tender\nblossoms yield bright, new shining pennies, does it not follow that the\nripened fruit should be of purest gold?\"\n\n\"It would seem so, good dame,\" agreed the Traveler. \"What then were the\napples--silver, perhaps?\"\n\n\"Indeed sir, no!\" replied Dame Grumble with deep feeling. \"For all I\nknow, in cutting off the branches of my favorite tree, my wicked son\nbewitched it. For though the Apple Tree bore fruit this year, it bore\nnaught but red apples of a common sort; I scorn to gather them!\n\n\"Oh, Oh!\" wept Dame Grumble, bursting into tears once again at the\nmemory of her loss. \"Thus to have my own son so wicked and disobedient,\nwhilst I, footsore and weary, was seeking for the fortune in pennies\nwhich the North Wind had stolen from me these many years! It is too\nmuch! I am sure, good sir, you will agree that I have many troubles, and\nthat it is not right to call me Dame Grumble because I sometimes speak\nof them.\"\n\n\"I had rather agree that you have also many blessings, good dame,\"\nreturned the Traveler, with his kindly smile. \"Come, let us draw our\nchairs before the hearth, and perhaps you may learn to see them too.\nThere is nothing that does so help us see our blessings as the bright\nflames dancing up the chimney when all the world without is dark and\ncold.\"\n\nBut ere she sat down, Dame Grumble recollected yet another grievance.\n\"And added to my other troubles,\" she complained, \"I have a son who is\nlame and must be always a burden instead of a staff.\"\n\nThe Traveler nodded gravely. \"That is a sorrow, I agree,\" said he, \"and\nI have no doubt, good dame, that your motherly heart must often ache\nwith the pity of it all.\"\n\nTo this Dame Grumble made no reply; she began to think instead. For\nyears her mind had been so busy with the plans for her blossoms and her\ngolden harvest that it had quite forgotten how to think of aught else.\nAs for her heart, it ached only when she thought of the fortune in\npennies that the North Wind had stolen from her, and that she had not\nfound.\n\n\"Then too, Dame Grumble,\" continued the Traveler, \"I must tell you that\nI think the North Wind no more than a rough playful fellow, and not\nwicked as you say. Only this afternoon he stole my hat and ran away with\nit, but before I had gone twenty yards, the amiable fellow had brought\nit back to me again. And since he blew me to your cottage door, I will\nhenceforth claim the North Wind for my friend.\"\n\n\"Then since it was the North Wind that brought you to our door, I will\nno longer call him my enemy, but instead will call him my friend also,\"\ndeclared Dame Grumble with a smile. In the firelight her face suddenly\nlooked so sweet and gentle that Freyo sighed deeply. Dame Grumble heard\nthe sigh, and asked her son the cause of it.\n\n\"I sighed because I wished you would smile often, Mother,\" replied the\nlad. \"You looked so sweet and pleasant.\"\n\n\"And now,\" began the Traveler, \"since we are all so happy, let us begin\nto think about the good dame's difficulties,--the fortune in pennies\nwhich she sought and could not find, the precious blossoms which the\nNorth Wind blows away each spring, and the Apple Tree which should have\nborne apples of gold, but which bore red apples instead. For these three\nevils we must find a remedy without delay.\"\n\nNow all the while she had been sitting with the Traveler by the\nfireside, because of his magic power, Dame Grumble had been thinking\nbusily. Not of fortunes or of golden apples, or yet of red apples\neither; instead, quite to her own surprise, she was thinking of how\nwearied she had grown of all these things. She wished suddenly that she\nwould never hear of them again. Judge then of her son's astonishment\nwhen she answered the Traveler in the following fashion:\n\n\"Good sir, although I sat me down to talk about my troubles, now that I\nhave told them, they seem light and trifling; I am indeed amazed that I\nhave heeded them at all! Though for years and years I have quarreled\nwith the North Wind because he robbed me of a fortune, I seem suddenly\nto care no longer for fortunes or gold or riches, or any such.\n\n\"For as I peer into the flames, it comes to my mind that there are many\nin this world not so blessed as I. Many a one is hungry and has naught\nto eat, while my larder is filled; some are cold whilst I sit in comfort\nbefore a fire of pine knots that sputter and glow. I see now that I have\nmany blessings.\" Dame Grumble did not know she had these thoughts\nbecause of the Traveler.\n\n\"Ah!\" cried the Traveler, \"did I not say the blazing logs helped one to\nsee one's blessings, and was I not right?\"\n\n\"I have often fancied that was so, good sir,\" agreed Freyo, \"and now,\nsince my mother no longer wishes to talk about her troubles, perhaps you\nwill tell us tales of your journeys; you are a traveler and have seen\nfar distant lands.\"\n\n\"Pray do, good sir!\" begged Dame Grumble too. \"It is long since my son\nand I have heard tales of any sort. Also from your great wisdom I have\na notion that we shall be highly entertained.\"\n\nSo the Traveler told them tales of other lands. He told of strange birds\nwith bright-hued feathers of such great length that they swept upon the\nground like queens' trains. He told of burning mountains and of fiery\nlakes, of lovely flowers blooming in the snow, and gardens that grew\nunderneath the sea. The wind without howled dismally; within, the flames\nleaped high and made queer elfin shadows to dance on the walls; the\nclock ticked off the minutes into hours, but still Dame Grumble and her\nson sat listening, wrapt in wonder. At last the candles snuffed out, and\nnaught but the back log smoldered and glowed in the darkness.\n\n\"Now good sir,\" cried Dame Grumble, \"I am sure you must be weary.\" She\nbade him take the best room, but the Traveler refused. The comfortable\nchair in which he sat was all he needed, he declared, and he bade the\ngood dame and her son good night.\n\nWhen they awakened next morning, he had gone; but on the chair they\nfound his staff. Fastened to the staff there was a note which bade Freyo\nuse it in place of the crutches, and said when he had no longer need for\nit to give it to some other one that had.\n\n\"Mother,\" said Freyo, when he had read the note over and over again,\n\"would this not seem to say that I might one day walk without the aid of\neither crutch or staff? What think you of it?\"\n\n\"It would seem so, my son,\" replied the dame, \"and then how happy I\nwould be!\"\n\nA knock at the door startled them both. Dame Grumble, thinking it was\nthe Traveler returned, hastened to open; but it was not he. It was a\nking's herald dressed in scarlet satin and silver laces.\n\n\"I am the herald of King Silversword,\" said he. He bowed low to Dame\nGrumble as though she were a duchess.\n\n\"And I am Dame Grumble, at His Majesty's service,\" answered Dame\nGrumble, with a bow equally fine.\n\n\"Then hearken to my message,\" began the herald. He unrolled a scroll of\nparchment, set thick with king's seals and written all in silver\nletters, and read the following proclamation:\n\n\"Know ye that the apple crop of the whole world has failed. From north\nto south, from east to west, there is not one apple to be found, nay not\nfor a king's ransom. Now that of itself could be borne, none the less,\nfor apples be great luxuries. However, the little Princess Silverstar,\nthe only daughter of King Silversword and Queen Silverland, has fallen\nill and craves constantly for red apples. The doctors and the medical\nmen hold no hope for her recovery unless she has to eat the fruit she\ncraves. Wherefore, if good Dame Grumble will sell a dozen or more red\napples to His Majesty, King Silversword, she may name any sum of gold or\nportions of rich jewels in payment; nay, whether she demand both gold\nand jewels, or even His Majesty's entire fortune, it shall be hers in\nexchange for her red apples.\"\n\n\"Come now, good dame, what do you say?\" asked the herald, as he rolled\nup the scroll once more.\n\n\"I say, good Master Herald, that my red apples are not for sale,\" the\ndame replied, \"but if they have a power to restore the little Princess\nSilverstar, she may have them all. They shall be a gift from me and my\nson Freyo.\"\n\nNow the herald was amazed at this. From the humble surroundings, he knew\nthe good dame and her son were naught but worthy peasants, and he\nreasoned wisely that riches would not be amiss. Accordingly, he tried to\npersuade Dame Grumble to accept some gift, a tract of fertile land, a\nnoble mansion, or at least a bag or two of gold; but Dame Grumble was\nfirm in her intention and would not be persuaded.\n\n\"If my red apples have a power to heal,\" she declared, \"they will have\nthrice that power if given with a good heart instead of in barter or\nexchange.\" So the herald besought her no more. He called the servants\nand bade them strip the tree, and then, with many thanks, he hastened on\nhis way.\n\n\"Oh, Mother!\" cried Freyo, as they watched the royal coach depart. \"How\nfine of you to refuse such riches! All your life you have so longed for\na fortune, too!\"\n\n\"Indeed, my son,\" replied the good dame earnestly, \"the only fortune I\ndesire now is the fortune that you will one day make for me. However, I\nmust confess that all the while I spoke with the king's herald, it\nseemed that the Traveler was close beside to tell me what to say, and\nthat the words were not my own. Now, was that not a strange thing--and\nhe gone these many hours?\"\n\nAs she went about her daily tasks, the good dame seemed to have\nforgotten her old woes and troubles and Freyo whistled like a thrush as\nhe sat working at his bench. The little cottage had never known such a\nhappy day. Freyo's tools seemed to fly as though by magic, and the gloom\nthat had been slowly settling down upon the little cottage quite close\nto the top of the earth now seemed to take wings and fly off. It was\njust at sunset when they heard the blowing of horns and trumpets, and\nagain the coach of King Silversword drew up before their door.\n\nFreyo, wishing to hear news of the Princess Silverstar, seized the\nTraveler's staff and hobbled toward the door. But wonder of wonders! No\nsooner had he leaned his weight upon it than he grew tall and straight\nas a young poplar tree. Like an arrow he sped from the cottage door, and\nDame Grumble rubbed her eyes lest she should wake and find herself\na-dreaming.\n\n\"Now look you, good Master Herald!\" she cried in amazement. \"You saw my\nson only this morning, and he was lame as lame could be; and now,\nbehold, he walks as well as you or I! Truly, say I, it is a day of\nmiracles!\"\n\n\"Thou sayest right, good dame!\" declared the herald. \"It is to tell you\nof another miracle that I have come hither. Only this morn the little\nPrincess Silverstar did eat but one of the red apples, and to the\ndelight and wonder of the court, she began to grow stronger. When she\nhad eaten three or four, the doctors and medical men pronounced her\ncured; they believed that the red apples coming as a gift, rather than\nfor barter or exchange, had worked an important part in this miraculous\nrecovery. To-night there is great feasting and rejoicing in the land of\nKing Silversword, and the praises of Dame Grumble and her son are sung\nby rich and poor and high and low alike.\" The herald then unrolled\nanother scroll and read the following proclamation:\n\n\"Wherefore His Majesty, King Silversword, to show his gratitude, doth\nnow create Freyo the First Wood Carver of his kingdom and master of all\nother wood carvers in the land.\"\n\nFreyo could scarcely believe his good fortune and begged the herald to\nread the scroll once more. Then he began to shout with joy. \"And only to\nthink, Mother!\" he cried, \"I am no longer lame, but can walk about like\nall the youths whom I shall meet at court.\"\n\n\"I am rejoiced!\" declared Dame Grumble, \"but if there be feasting in all\nthe lands of King Silversword, there should likewise be feasting in our\nlittle cottage. You are whole and strong, and the Princess Silverstar is\nrestored to health through our gift. Let us be merry too!\n\n\"And you, good Master Herald,\" continued the good Dame, \"though our food\nbe plain, if happy hearts alone be needed, there will be no merrier\nhousehold in all the world than ours to-night. Will you not sup with\nus?\" The herald vowed he would be honored, and so Dame Grumble popped\nanother pudding in the steaming pot, and they all sat down. While the\nthree ate and drank, the good dame and her son recalled the wonder of\ntheir visitor the evening before.\n\n\"One could scarce believe the change the Traveler wrought upon my mind\nand heart,\" said the good dame. \"Before he came, I was scolding and\ncomplaining always from morning until night. Yet since he entered into\nmy door, I have had scarce a vexatious thought.\"\n\n\"It would seem, good dame, that the Traveler was some gentle spirit come\nfrom afar,\" agreed the herald. \"I do not doubt that he and his magic\narts are the secret cause of these miracles we have seen to-day.\"\n\nWhen he departed with the herald the next day, Freyo left behind the\nTraveler's staff; the good dame fancied it would be a guard against the\nreturn of her low spirits. She leaned on it as she stood by the cottage\ndoor and waved her son a farewell and thought with pride how handsome he\nwas now that he was tall and straight. Thus we must leave Dame Grumble\nin the country quite close to the top of the earth, and journey off\nwith Freyo on the way to seek his fortune.\n\n\nIV\n\nAt the court of King Silversword, Freyo was welcomed with much honor and\nceremony. Dame Grumble's gift to the little princess had made a thousand\ngood friends for him, it seemed. King Silversword looked at him with\neyes of gratitude; Queen Silverland could not praise him enough. The\nLittle Princess Silverstar took much pleasure in the tales that Freyo\ntold her of the North Wind and the Apple Tree. Before many days had\npassed, Freyo had become the child's favorite courtier, and was a\nfavorite of the whole Court likewise. The noble lords vowed that Freyo\nhad wisdom beyond his years and vied with one another to do him\nkindnesses. The noble ladies declared that Freyo had a kindly heart as\nwell as handsome features. They said his gentle manners were worthy of a\nduke's son. King Silversword gave orders that a fine workroom be built\nat the top of the royal palace and fitted with every sort of tool that a\nwood carver might fancy. He also sent great ships a-sailing off to\ndistant lands to bring rare woods for Freyo's work.\n\nWhen all things were in order, Freyo began his first task for the great\nKing Silversword: it was to carve seven great chests which would be used\nas dower chests for the little princess by and by. So fine was the\ndesign upon each chest, and so delicate and intricate the carving and\nthe traceries, that seven long years passed before the seven chests were\nfinished. In all that time, although the princess grew to be a lovely\nmaiden, tall and stately, she still took pleasure in the tales that\nFreyo told her of the Apple Tree that grew up in the country quite close\nto the top of the earth. Now when these seven chests were shown at\ncourt, it was the opinion of wise men and artists from far and near that\ntheir equal could not be found in all the world. King Silversword was\ngreatly pleased, and in reward he commanded that Freyo be made Duke of\nFreyoland. Ten thousand leagues of land in the country quite close to\nthe top of the earth were given him for his domain, and a noble castle\nwas likewise built there for him.\n\nThe seven dower chests were next filled full of gold and jewels, and\norders for a splendid ball were given. Princes and dukes as well as\nlords and marquises from every court on earth were bidden to attend, and\nfrom this assemblage of noble youths, the Princess Silverstar would\nchoose her husband. Some gossips at the court declared it was assured\nthat Princess Silverstar would choose Prince Goldenmines, the richest\nprince in all the world. Others thought that she would surely favor\nPrince Palmire, because he was so handsome. Judge then of the surprise\nof all when Princess Silverstar chose Freyo for her prince and begged\nher royal parents to consent.\n\n\"Is it not to Freyo's noble gift, so long ago, that we do owe our\ndaughter's life!\" exclaimed these grateful monarchs. \"How then shall we\ndeny him for our daughter's husband? Announce the betrothal, heralds!\"\n\nThen straightway the wedding day was set. Dame Grumble journeyed down\nfrom the country quite close to the top of the earth and was made\nwelcome by Queen Silverland and her noble ladies. (To be quite formal,\nwe should now call the good dame Duchess Freyoland, for as mother of a\nduke, she had likewise become ennobled. However, as the good dame liked\nher old name best, perhaps we had best call her just Dame Grumble after\nall.)\n\nIn order that all folk might rejoice in goodly earnest at her wedding\nfeast, the Princess Silverstar besought her father two favors. First,\nthat he would forgive all debts and moneys that his people owed the\ncrown, and second, that he would take no taxes for a whole year and a\nday. She then commanded that every subject be given fine new holiday\nattire and a well-filled purse, according to his rank and station. In\nall the history of the kingdom there was not known a finer feast than\nthis. The noble lords and ladies rode and drove or danced at splendid\nballs. The common people sang or played games on the highways and\nfeasted on the village greens. Then when the seven days of fun and\nfeasting passed at last, and Freyo with his lovely bride drove off to\ntheir castle, Dame Grumble sat beside them in the royal chariot. But not\nfor long could the good dame content herself in their splendid castle.\nHer heart began to yearn, and she began to pine most sadly for her\nhome. Though Freyo and his lovely bride begged her to stay and dwell\nwith them forever, the good dame would not hear of it.\n\n\"Ah, no, my children!\" cried Dame Grumble. \"Long, long ago, 'tis true, I\nwished for a noble house and fancied I would be happy as a queen if I\nmight live in one. Since the visit of the Traveler, I have grown much\nwiser. I know that I can be happy as a queen if I am but content. So in\nmy little cottage with the North Wind and the Apple Tree for friends, I\nshall dwell all my days.\"\n\nSo saying, Dame Grumble bade Freyo and his lovely bride farewell, and\nleaning on the Traveler's staff she set off for home. She reached her\nlittle cottage on a bright spring day, just when the Apple Tree was\ndecked in clouds of fragrant, pinky-white blossoms, and looked as lovely\nas a fairy tree. Dame Grumble gazed with satisfaction on her favorite\ntree, and as she gazed it came to her mind that in all the noble sights\nshe saw at court, she had seen nothing half so lovely as the Apple Tree\nin spring.\n\nIt was not long now before the North Wind came roaring over field and\nforest in his usual fashion, but when he saw Dame Grumble he ceased\nsuddenly. He asked most civilly how the good dame did and whether she\nhad liked the life at court. To all his questions Dame Grumble made most\namiable reply and hoped the North Wind's health was fair. For, if you\nwill believe me, these two old enemies were now good friends. They had\nnot had a cross word or a quarrel since the evening of the Traveler's\nvisit long ago.\n\n\"And now, Dame Grumble,\" said the North Wind, \"for seven long years you\nhave ceased your scolding and grumbling, and if you will it so, the\nspell that bound the Apple Tree may now be broken. Only command me to\ncease my mischief, and I will touch your blossoms nevermore. Likewise\ncommand the Apple Tree to bear you golden apples, and you shall have\nthem.\"\n\n\"But North Wind!\" cried the Apple Tree. \"First tell my mistress what you\nhave done with all the pennies from my blossoms. My mistress has a heart\nof gold and needs not golden apples.\"\n\nDame Grumble smiled with pleasure that the Apple Tree should speak thus\nkindly of her. Well she remembered the olden days when she had often\nbeen most harsh with her favorite tree, and she hoped the tree had now\nforgiven her. \"The Apple Tree praises my heart too highly,\" said Dame\nGrumble modestly. \"Still, North Wind, I must own that I have been most\ncurious about the pennies from the blossoms you have blown away.\"\n\n\"The pennies were not stored in some hollow of the earth, as you\nsupposed, long, long ago, when you set out to find them,\" said the North\nWind. \"Each springtime, when I blew the blossoms of the Apple Tree\naround the world, I dropped the pennies at the feet of poor children who\nhad none but me to love them. These poor children then ran pell-mell to\nthe nearest sweet shop to spend their pennies and were happy as larks in\nconsequence.\"\n\n\"The Apple Tree is right!\" declared Dame Grumble. \"For all the golden\napples in the world, I would not rob a single poor child of its penny.\nSo blow your fiercest, North Wind; and Apple Tree, see to it that there\nbe a penny for every orphan child on earth.\" The North Wind obeyed, and\nDame Grumble smiled to see the lovely blossoms flying through the air\nlike April snow.\n\nAnd so the good dame settled down to dwell in peace and happiness.\nKings' palaces and dukes' castles were all very well, said she, but\nafter all, there was no place like home. As for climate and a clear blue\nsky in summer, there was no place to equal the country quite close to\nthe top of the earth, Dame Grumble thought. Often and often, just at\ncandlelight, Dame Grumble peered into the dusk and gloom in hopes of\nseeing the Traveler coming toward her door; but he came not. Sometimes\nshe asked the North Wind for news of him, but he could tell her little.\n\n\"I think,\" said the North Wind, \"that the Traveler still journeys round\nthe earth, but always in advance of me. Sometimes I travel over cities\nwhere all folk are content, and where there are no strifes nor quarrels.\nI hear folk speaking of a noble traveler who has lingered with them, and\nI have often thought it is the Traveler whom we seek. If I should ever\nmeet him, I shall tell him that Dame Grumble waits each evening to\nwelcome him.\"\n\n\"But my mistress, and you too, North Wind,\" said the Apple Tree, \"have\nyou not heard it said the Traveler visits only those who are sad and\nsorrowful, or who are afflicted with cold, selfish hearts? If that be\ntrue, he will return to our little cottage no more; there is no need for\nhim.\"\n\nNow it would seem that the Apple Tree was right, for the Traveler\nreturned no more. And in all the world there was not such another place\nfor comfort and good cheer as Dame Grumble's little cottage quite close\nto the top of the earth where the North Wind blew fiercely each spring.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nA TALE OF THE NORTHLAND KINGDOM\n\n\nI\n\nLong, long ago, in a certain far-off region of the world, there was a\nland of ice and snow, and this land was called the Northland Kingdom.\nThere each year the ice broke on the rivers and flowed out to the sea,\nand the snow melted in the valleys. Then corn and rye and other good\ngrains would grow; but these mild seasons were short, and for the most\npart ice and snow abounded everywhere.\n\nAdded to this, in the time of my tale there was no light in the\nNorthland Kingdom. All time was deep gray twilight or inky darkness, and\nthere was no day. Neither Moon nor Stars had ever pierced the\noverhanging gloom and mists, and the sun had never shone upon the\nNorthland Kingdom. Reindeer flitted silently through this land of\nshadows, and great white bears made their homes in icy caves by the sea.\nWhen birds of passage reached this land of darkness, they trilled their\nsoftest songs and went to rest, and when they waked, they soared away in\nsearch of brighter lands. But knowing nothing of the light of day, the\nfolk of this dark land mourned not its lack and were content to dwell\never in shadow. A thousand silver lamps and myriads of waxen tapers\ngleamed always in the palace of the king; and in the fields the workers\nsowed and reaped by light of flaming torches. The herders built great\nfires on the hillsides, and in their light and warmth told their flocks.\nThe housewives spun by firelight.\n\nNow in the time of which I tell, the good king Tamna ruled the Northland\nKingdom. He was a wealthy sovereign even as the wealth of kings is\nreckoned. King Tamna owned a thousand mountains of gold and silver and\nthe fish of ten thousand streams. Herds of reindeer and caribou beyond\nall counting were also his, as well as the forests and plains over which\nthey roamed. Beside all this, King Tamna was sovereign lord of one\nhundred princes of the Northland Kingdom. These hundred princes paid\nKing Tamna tribute; that is to say, they brought him yearly certain\nportions of their flocks and herds and of their grain and gold and of\nall that was theirs, for such was the law of the Northland Kingdom.\n\nNow good King Tamna had a daughter, Maiden Matanuska, Princess of the\nSilver Birches. She was so called because her marriage portion was a\nforest of silver birch that lay between two swift-flowing streams and\nreached from sea to sea. Some folk thought Maiden Matanuska was part\nwood sprite, for in spite of dark and shadows she would roam for hours\nin the paths and lanes among the birches and was not afraid. The Maiden\nMatanuska understood the language of the trees and learned from them\njust when the ice and snow would melt.\n\nThe silver foxes that roamed this forest were her pets. They frisked and\nfollowed her about like faithful dogs; and though their furs were worth\na king's fortune, Maiden Matanuska would not consent to have them slain.\nFor this the silver fox were grateful and loved her dearly. They taught\nher secrets never known before by men, and from their wisdom Maiden\nMatanuska learned to tell when icy winds would blow and snow begin to\nfall and when the grain would grow again. Maiden Matanuska understood\nthe songs of birds as well, and when the birds of passage sang of other\nlands, where there was light of day, she listened eagerly. But when she\nbegged these birds to sing her more, they answered her with sleepy\nchirps, for birds would not sing long in that dark land.\n\nIt was from these sweet songs the birds of passage sang that Maiden\nMatanuska came to know that there was such a thing as light of day. The\nmore she heard, the more she longed to see this marvel. While she\nwandered in her birchen forest, she would dream bright dreams of other\nlands, she knew not where,--lands where ice and snow were not, but where\ngay flowers bloomed instead, and there was day as well as night.\n\n\"Oh, my father,\" said she with a sigh, \"how pleasant our land would be\nif all the shadows and the gloom departed for a time and we had light of\nday as well as night.\"\n\n\"Ah, yes, my daughter,\" said King Tamna, with an answering sigh, \"but\nhow to brighten this dark land I know not. For your sake I would that I\ncould; but for myself, I care not. Now I am growing old and soon must\njourney all alone to lands where light or darkness matters not.\"\n\n\"Oh, my father! Speak not of that time,\" cried Maiden Matanuska,\nbursting into tears. She loved her father tenderly and knew he spoke of\nthe time when he must die. \"If you were not here with me, neither light\nnor darkness would matter to me, and I should be desolate and lonely.\"\n\n\"Then speak no more of your longing for light,\" replied the king. \"It\ngrieves me that I cannot give you what you most desire. But before I\nhave departed from this life, I hope to see you wedded to some brave\nprince who will love you and protect you in my place.\"\n\nAnd though Maiden Matanuska vowed she wished no prince at all, her\nfather gave her protests no heed. \"There is a handsome youth who wears a\nfeather mantle with whom I see you wandering in the forest. Who is he?\"\nKing Tamna asked.\n\n\"He is Prince Kenai of the burning mountain,\" said the maiden. \"He, too,\nhas dreams of light and tells me wonder tales which I do love to hear.\"\n\n\"Prince Kenai is the poorest prince in all the Northland Kingdom,\" said\nthe king; \"but if his wonder tales please you, I shall say nothing.\"\n\nNow, as may be supposed, there was no lack of suitors for the maiden's\nhand. Indeed these hundred princes of the Northland Kingdom each longed\nto marry her. She was the fairest maiden in the land, and moreover, she\nwas as lovely of mind and manner as she was fair of face.\n\nThere came at last a certain night when good King Tamna sat in state to\ngreet his tribute-bearing princes, and Maiden Matanuska sat beside her\nfather. In robes of purple velvet bordered deep with ermine and thickly\nsewn with threads of beaten gold, with golden crown and sceptre too,\nKing Tamna looked a very king of kings,--a monarch of great state and\ndignity. The Maiden Matanuska, robed in shimmering gossamer white, her\ngolden hair, that fell about her like a cloak, crowned with a wreath of\nleaves, and in her hand a holly branch, looked like some angel newly\ncome from paradise. She seemed some lovely maiden in a dream, who would\nperhaps take flight and float away in the encircling gloom and mists.\nThese hundred princes knelt before the throne and begged the lovely\nmaiden's hand in marriage.\n\nAt this the king was troubled, for clearly Maiden Matanuska could not\nwed them all, and how to choose among them he knew not. At last the\nroyal counselors advised him in the following way:\n\n\"Now since these hundred youths be princes all, and therefore suitable\nin rank to wed your daughter, let Maiden Matanuska for herself decide\nwhich one she'll wed.\"\n\nWhen this was told, the Maiden Matanuska sat some time in thought and\nthen she spoke. \"I'll wed the prince who brings to me the thing which I\nhave never seen before, for which I long with all my heart, and which I\nshall love well.\"\n\nThe hundred princes then departed to their various lands and began to\nseek among their treasures to find the thing they thought would please\nthe maiden. Some princes brought her toys of ivory wrought in wondrous\nways, and some brought robes of doeskin, soft as satin, white as milk,\nembroidered all in beads of many colors. But these proved not the thing\nfor which the maiden longed. Some princes brought her great carved\nsilver chests, and some brought chains and bracelets made of purest\ngold; but none of these were what the Maiden Matanuska wished, and all\nthese princes failed to win their suit. So fared they all until at last\nthere were but three to try their fate,--Prince Kathalan, Prince Katala,\nand Prince Kenai.\n\nNow Prince Kathalan was the greatest warrior of all the Northland\nKingdom. He had won a hundred battles and boasted that he would win a\nhundred more. He gloried in his warlike fame and doubted not that Maiden\nMatanuska would favor him above all others.\n\nKatala, who was wealthiest prince of all, rejoiced because his slaves\nhad lately found a diamond mine, the like of which was never known\nbefore in all the Northland Kingdom. Prince Katala had great faith in\nthe power of his riches and was full sure that Maiden Matanuska would\nsmile upon his suit.\n\nPrince Kenai dwelt in the land of a burning mountain whose fires\ndestroyed his forests and laid waste his lands, and the land itself,\nmoreover, was not enriched with gold or silver or with any other metal.\nBecause of this, Prince Kenai was called poorest prince of all; but\nbecause in all the Northland Kingdom none other dared venture near this\nburning mountain, he was counted bravest prince of all.\n\nOf these three, Prince Kathalan spoke first. \"Oh, Maiden Matanuska,\nPrincess of the Silver Birch,\" cried he, \"I bring to you this magic bird\nof battle, my raven. Black as its wings are, wise is the bird, and\nmoreover it hath the gift of speech and prophecy. With this magic raven\nas my omen, no warrior can worst me in battle, and I can conquer\nlegions. So marry me, O Maiden, and I will make you the most powerful\nqueen the world has ever known.\"\n\nThe Maiden Matanuska shook her head. \"You have not guessed my meaning\nrightly,\" answered she. \"I care not to be a queen of power, for such\nqueens are unhappy, I have often heard; and I hate the thought of\nbattle. So keep your magic raven, warrior prince. I love far better the\ngentle doves that flutter around me in my forest.\"\n\nPrince Kathalan departed in a rage, and Prince Katala stood before the\nthrone.\n\n\"Oh, Maiden Matanuska, Princess of the Silver Birch,\" cried he, \"I bring\nto you a golden casket filled full of gems called diamonds which you\nhave never seen before, and which you will love well, for they are truly\nlovely. And these are not a thousandth part of all my wealth; so marry\nme, O Maiden, and I will make you the richest queen the world has ever\nknown.\"\n\nThe gems within the casket flashed forth purple fire and shone like\nbrilliant stars; but Maiden Matanuska sighed again.\n\n\"I care not for great riches, Prince Katala,\" answered she, \"for I have\nriches of my own in goodly store. As for thy diamonds,--though they be\ntruly lovely, as you say, I should as soon love the icicles that cluster\nround my casement in the storm. They are as hard and cold.\"\n\nPrince Katala departed likewise in a rage, and Prince Kenai bowed low\nbefore the throne.\n\n\"And now what treasure do you bring to win my hand, brave prince?\"\nasked Maiden Matanuska.\n\nTo which the prince replied, \"I bring you none, and neither do I seek to\nwin your hand. Your heart is what I do desire, O Maiden, for I do love\nyou truly and would die to serve you.\n\n\"Now in your father's halls are treasures and all riches in great store.\nFair silken banners hang the walls to shut the cold drafts out; a\nthousand gleaming silver lamps light the way; great chests are filled\nfull of ornaments of beaten gold, as well as many other things my eyes\nhave not discovered. With all this wealth heaped high on every hand, if\nyou still long for that which you have never seen, think you that in my\nbarren land it will be found? In my land so poor that even crows forsake\nit?\"\n\n\"Well said, brave prince,\" the king replied, \"and if you have not\ntreasures such as men hold dear, you have indeed a noble gift of speech.\nBut even so, some gift or token you must surely bring, or otherwise you\nhad not come at all but stayed within your barren land. Come, tell us\nwhat it is.\"\n\n\"I bring no treasure save the treasure of a wonder tale which you will\nhear,\" said Prince Kenai, and then began to tell.\n\n\"Within my land, as well you know, there lies a burning mountain from\nwhich men flee in fear, but which I love. Now when my mountain has burst\nforth in flames, and tongues of fire that reach to heaven light the sky\nof all the world, I have seen wondrous things. I have seen other lands\nfar distant, where ice and snow are not, but where the green grass\nclothes the hills and plains; where poppies shaped like golden chalices\ngrow thick, and birds sing hour after hour. And in these pleasant lands\nof which I tell, there is a time of light as well as dark. This time of\nlight lasts many hours long and is called day.\"\n\n\"Then tell me this, Prince Kenai,\" cried the king. \"How comes this light\nof day to other lands? It comes not to this dreary realm of ours, where\nit would be most welcome.\"\n\n\"I'll tell you that,\" replied the prince. \"There is a wondrous traveler\ncalled the Sun who high up in the clouds does journey ceaselessly about\nthe world. He has great power over night and causes darkness to break\nforth in light wherever he does turn his face toward any land.\n\n\"And now farewell, good king and Maiden Matanuska, whom I love. I go to\nseek the Sun and beg him to return with me and shine upon the Northland\nKingdom as he does on other lands upon the earth. Then will we have the\nlight of day as well as night, and Maiden Matanuska will have that which\nshe has never seen, for which she longs with all her heart, and which\nshe will love well. Farewell.\"\n\nPrince Kenai wrapped his flowing feather mantle around him and took\nleave of the king. The Maiden Matanuska walked with him through her\nforest where the silver birches grew down to the borders of the sea, and\nthere they parted.\n\n\"Oh, my brave prince,\" wept Maiden Matanuska, \"my heart cries out\nagainst your going, for since the day I met you I have loved you dearly;\nbut I was always fearful lest my father bid me wed another because you\nhad no fortune. Therefore I set the riddle which only you did guess. And\nnow, may all good powers guard you on your quest and bring you safely\nback to me. While you are gone, the waking hours will often find me\nstanding on this shore, awaiting the glad sight of your return.\"\n\n\"My beloved maiden!\" sighed the prince. \"With such sweet faith and love\nto bless me, I cannot fail.\" He rent his flowing feather mantle in two\nparts and wrapped a portion of it around the maiden. \"I would I had a\nricher token for you, love,\" said he. \"But even so; this feather mantle\nis no mean gift. Who wears it will be ever safe from icy blasts and snow\nand cold and will be ever young and fair as on the day they wore it\nfirst. Now kiss me in farewell and promise me that when I do return and\nbring the Sun, you'll marry me.\"\n\nThe Maiden Matanuska kissed him thrice and promised, and springing into\nhis boat, Prince Kenai sailed away. She stood upon the shore and blew\nhim kisses and caresses, but soon his form was lost in darkness and the\nmists, and Maiden Matanuska was left forlorn.\n\n\nII\n\nNow in those olden days, when princes journeyed around the world on\nerrands for the maidens whom they loved, the space of time they usually\nwere gone was a year and a day. So when a year and a day had passed, the\nMaiden Matanuska often wandered through the birch wood and stood upon\nthe border of the sea. She strained her gaze far to the south to see the\nsight of any sail; but Prince Kenai came not.\n\nShe asked the birds of passage if they had seen her prince, and\nsometimes they had news of him. \"Oh, tell me, ye wild Gulls, of the wild\nskies,\" she asked, \"do you know aught of my brave Prince Kenai? He wears\na feather robe like mine and seeks in lands afar to find the Sun for\nme.\"\n\n\"Ah, yes,\" replied the Gulls. \"We've seen a prince so dressed, and he\nwas sailing westward on the sea and seemed to seek the Sun.\"\n\n\"And found he what he sought?\" cried Maiden Matanuska eagerly.\n\n\"Alas!\" the Gulls replied. \"The truth is, he did not. For many evenings\nwhen the day was done, we saw this prince sail westward. He hoped to\nmeet the sun just where the sky bends down to meet the sea, but though\nhe sailed for days and days, the place he sought seemed sailing too,\nand so he reached it not.\"\n\n\"That is sad news,\" the maiden sighed. \"But when again you see my\nprince, tell him that all my thoughts are his, and I am sure he cannot\nfail.\"\n\nAnother time she asked a Kite-bird had he seen Prince Kenai.\n\n\"Oh, yes, dear maiden,\" the Kite-bird made reply. \"And he was in the\nSouthland, whither he had gone to seek the Sun. But he was worn and\nwearied with much wandering, and the road was long; and by the time he\nreached there, the Sun had long departed on his journey to the\nEastland.\"\n\n\"That is sad news, good Kite-bird,\" said the maiden, \"but when you see\nmy prince again, pray tell him that my hopes are his, and I am sure he\ncannot fail to win his quest.\"\n\nAnd still another time did Maiden Matanuska ask an Auk to tell her of\nPrince Kenai.\n\n\"I saw him,\" said the Auk, \"and from the feather robe he wore I judged\nhim first to be some bird. In lands where scarlet poppies lull the weary\ntravelers to deep sleep, and waterfalls make thunder down the mountain\nsides, Prince Kenai I saw toiling up a rocky slope where it is said the\nSun does rise.\"\n\n\"And did he reach the top of this steep slope?\" asked Maiden Matanuska.\n\n\"Now that I could not say,\" the Auk replied, \"for I was flying swiftly\nand paused not at all. But this I know; the Sun's a mighty, glowing\nbeing and is like to burn all those who venture near his presence.\nUnless Prince Kenai have some magic charm, I doubt if the Sun will heed\nhim.\"\n\n\"That is the saddest news of all,\" sighed Maiden Matanuska. \"But even\nso, I shall not weep but pray for him instead. When you next see my\nprince, good Auk, tell him that all my love is his, and I'll await his\ncoming though he remain a thousand years.\"\n\n\"I shall,\" replied the Auk, and soared away.\n\nAnd so the Maiden Matanuska waited while the time sped on. Wrapped in\nher feather mantle, she wandered through the birches like a lonely\nspirit, and the trees were grieved for her. She still dreamed dreams and\nloved to think about the time when she would greet her prince; when the\nlight of day would banish all the gloom and shadows of the Northland\nKingdom. Still years passed on, and still Prince Kenai came not. King\nTamna feared him dead or that perhaps he had lost his way and was a\nwanderer forlorn; but Maiden Matanuska knew no fears.\n\n\"The journey to the Sun is long, my father,\" she would say, \"and my\nbrave prince no magic hath to make it short. He will return and bring\nwith him this wondrous traveler whom he seeks, and what a pleasant place\nthe Northland Kingdom then will be!\"\n\nBut as the time went by there came great sadness in the Northland\nKingdom. The good King Tamna laid him down to sleep one night and never\nwaked again. All folk both high and low mourned deeply, for good King\nTamna had been like a kindly father rather than a king. When at last the\ntime of mourning passed, Lord Boreas, cousin to King Tamna, came to rule\nthe Northland Kingdom.\n\nNow Lord Boreas was a cruel sovereign, a tyrant, and the people were\nunhappy under his rule. He made harsh laws, and if these laws were not\nobeyed, he punished with severity. Lord Boreas, it was whispered, had\nan evil power over the icy winds and rivers in the Northland Kingdom,\nand few dared resist his will. His anger, it was said, had caused many a\nvillage to be blown into the sea and noble cities to be flooded with a\nrush of waters. But while the rule of this harsh king fell hard on all\nalike, on Maiden Matanuska it fell hardest. Lord Boreas was her\nguardian. He scorned the simple customs of the good King Tamna and\nstraightway ordered all things to his liking. He planned to fell the\nMaiden Matanuska's forest and build a city in its place.\n\n\"However, my sweet cousin,\" said Lord Boreas, \"I'll wait until the next\nmild season is at hand. Then when the silver foxes come from their\nwinter's sleep, my hunters shall lay traps for them and slay them every\none. Their skins will sell for gold, and for your marriage portion you\nshall have a noble city and ten thousand chests of gold, and I myself\nwill marry you and make you queen.\"\n\nThough Maiden Matanuska's heart was sad, and she wept bitter tears for\nher loved trees and pets, she made no protest at her cousin's words.\nShe feared his wrath, and so she bowed her head submissively. But when\nthe palace slept and all was still, wrapped in her feather mantle, she\nstole softly out. Down through the shadowy lanes and misty isles among\nthe silver birches she sped, until she reached the border of the sea.\nThen through the gloom she peered to see the sight of any sail; but no\nsail she saw.\n\n\"Oh, my beloved prince,\" she wept, \"I fear that when you come 'twill be\ntoo late. For rather than to wed my cruel cousin, I'll fling myself into\nthe sea and die!\"\n\n\"Now, Maiden Matanuska, what grave sorrow can this be?\" a gruff voice\nspoke beside her. It was old Reynard, chief of all the silver foxes. He\nhad stolen from the burrow to learn how went the season and to know when\nhe might waken all his sleeping tribe.\n\n\"Oh, Reynard, my good friend!\" exclaimed the maiden. \"Since first you\ndid begin your winter's sleep, I have had many sorrows. My father, good\nKing Tamna, is no more, and now my cruel cousin Boreas rules the\nNorthland Kingdom.\" She told her tale of sorrows, and old Reynard\nlistened, all alert.\n\n\"Without a doubt, your cruel cousin Boreas hath an evil power over the\nwinds and streams,\" said he, when she had finished, \"but he shall learn\nit is not simple to outwit the cunning fox. Now in the past, as you,\ndear maiden, have protected me and all my tribe from harm, so will we\nnow protect you in your need. Come, follow me; do as I bid, and all will\nyet be well.\" So saying, old Reynard then led the maiden down beneath\nthe earth to where the silver foxes still slept their winter's sleep,\nand birch roots wound about in and out.\n\n\"Now, Maiden Matanuska,\" said Reynard, \"if you will place a feather from\nyour mantle at the root of every tree, they will be safe from cold and\nicy blasts, in spite of all Lord Boreas in his wrath may do. Then when\nthat's done, wrap you all warmly in what's left of it and rest you\nsafely with my people. When Prince Kenai comes I'll waken you.\"\n\nThe Maiden Matanuska did as Reynard bid, and far beneath the earth she\nhid herself from cruel Boreas. 'Twas well she did, for when her cousin\nfound her fled, his anger knew no bounds. He sent great parties out to\nsearch the land, and he himself, with flaming torch in hand, set out to\nseek her in the forest. Among the birch trees he found traces, showing\nthat the Maiden Matanuska passed that way. Upon a branch he found a\nscarlet ribbon she had worn, and in the thorn-bush was caught a silken\nscarf; but though he sought for hours and called her name, Lord Boreas\ncould not find the maiden.\n\n\"Because I do not know the winding paths among the trees as well as you,\nyou think to trick me, Maiden Matanuska,\" he cried at last, in fury,\n\"but you shall know my vengeance now.\" Then climbing up the steep slopes\nof a near-by mountain, and summoning all his powers of evil, he\ncommanded thus:\n\n\"Rise, rise, ye rivers that flow swiftly to the sea, until the birchen\nforest in the valley be all flooded with a mighty rush of waters! Then\nblow, ye chill winds, from the east and north until these waters to a\nsolid wall of ice are all transformed.\"\n\nThe rivers, obedient at his command, then rose swiftly and overran their\nbanks so that soon the tallest trees were all submerged, and nothing\nbut a lake was seen. The winds began to blow their wildest, and the lake\nbecame a solid bank of ice that threw off chilling mists.\n\nThen Boreas called the people of the Northland Kingdom and addressed\nthem thus: \"Behold the fate of Maiden Matanuska and beware! For so shall\nperish all who dare defy me.\"\n\nThe people wept and mourned in secret for the maiden whom they dearly\nloved, but there were none who dared cry out against the cruel Boreas.\n\n\nIII\n\nMeanwhile Prince Kenai, bent upon his quest, was wandering still in\nlands afar. Each morning in the dawn he saw the wondrous traveler that\nhe sought rise in the eastern sky and scatter clouds of darkness; and\neach evening, when the day was done, he saw the wondrous traveler set\nfar in the west and take with him the day. But though Prince Kenai\njourneyed all around the earth and halfway back again, he found no road\nto reach the Sun, and he was sad. Still he continued on his way with\nhope and courage.\n\nIt happened once, while he lay sleeping on a mountain, an eagle wounded\nby a poison dart dropped down beside him.\n\n\"Ah!\" cried the eagle bitterly, \"from the great cloak of feathers which\nyou wear, I thought you to be one of my own race. But since you are a\nman and I am wounded and can fly no more, I must prepare to die. You'll\ntake my beak and claws to show your fellow men your skill at hunting and\nstuff my body to adorn your walls. Alas! That I, a prince of air, should\ncome to this!\" the great bird moaned.\n\n\"Fear not that I shall take your life, good eagle prince,\" said Prince\nKenai. \"For though I am not of your race, I am a prince of earth, and to\nmy mind all princes, whether of the earth or air, should be as\nbrothers.\"\n\nPrince Kenai fetched water from a near-by spring and dressed the eagle's\nwound with healing herbs. For many days he did the same until the pain\ngrew less, and by and by the great bird's wound was healed.\n\n\"Now, brother,\" said the eagle, when he could fly once more, \"you've\nserved me nobly, and in my turn I shall serve you to prove my gratitude.\nYou told me of your quest to reach the Sun, and I will tell you this.\nThere is no road to reach the Sun that mortal man may tread. The way\nlies through the clouds, and indeed, 'tis only I and all my brother\neagles that have strength to travel there. So get you on my back without\ndelay, good Prince Kenai, and we shall start.\"\n\nStraight upward soared the eagle through the clouds, and when the day\nwas nearly done they reached the splendid mansion of the Sun. Good luck\nwas theirs, because the wondrous traveler had returned from his day's\njourney round the world and was well pleased to see them. He bade them\nwelcome and asked the reason of their visit.\n\n\"Oh, Golden Sun,\" said Prince Kenai, \"far in my land which is the\nNorthland Kingdom, I learned that you had power over night and brought\nthe light of day to lands wheresoever you did turn your face. Therefore\nI set out to seek you and entreat you to return with me and shine upon\nthe Northland Kingdom, which is a land of night and darkness. All around\nthe world I've followed you in vain, and never would have met you had\nnot this good eagle borne me thither on his wings.\"\n\n\"Prince Kenai does not tell the reason why,\" exclaimed the eagle. \"He\nsaved my life when it was in his power to slay me, and, therefore, I\nhave brought him hither, as was his wish.\" The eagle told his tale, and\nwhen the Sun had heard, he praised Prince Kenai.\n\n\"Now see,\" the Sun declared, \"the mighty power of a kindly deed. Had\nyou, Prince Kenai, slain this noble bird, as most men would have done,\nhe had not brought you to my mansion, and you could not have begged this\nboon of me. For your reward, I'll go with you. To-morrow morning when I\nrise, we'll start for this dark land, and thou, my eagle, bear Prince\nKenai on thy wings that he may all the faster lead the way.\"\n\nFor many days these three companions journeyed on through soft white\nclouds and summer skies until thick, gloomy mists came into view. The\nwind blew chill as though from fields of ice and snow, and the dull\nskies were leaden gray. From this, Prince Kenai knew the Northland\nKingdom was at hand, although a pall of darkness overhung the landscape,\nand nothing could be seen.\n\n  [Illustration: For many days these three companions journeyed\n  on through soft white clouds.--_Page 86._]\n\n\"I'll soon change this!\" exclaimed the Sun, and then began to shine full\non the Northland Kingdom. Straightway all the scene began to change as\nthough by magic. The lowering mists dissolved and rolled away in rosy\nclouds or formed gay-colored rainbows in the skies; the skies themselves\nchanged to bright blue, all flecked with white instead of leaden gray.\nThe birds of passage wakened from their sleep and sang their sweetest\nsongs. Upon the mountain side the snow began to melt away, and\nmany-colored flowers bloomed where it had been. No bank of ice or snow,\nhowever high or deep, was able to withstand the genial warmth of all the\nbeams the Sun poured down. The wall of ice that bound the birchen forest\nbroke and with a roar plunged down into the sea. Then upon the waves\nwere seen a thousand glittering banks of ice that seemed like noble\npalaces afloat. The birch trees all began to bud and bloom with silvery\nleaves that rustled softly; and green grass, thick with violets, went\ncreeping underfoot.\n\nOn learning what had come to pass, old Reynard wakened Maiden Matanuska\nand led her from the burrows until she stood once more upon the border\nof the sea.\n\n\"Oh, my beloved Prince Kenai!\" she cried, as she beheld him. \"Though in\nyour absence I have suffered many sorrows, now that you are returned,\nI'll soon forget them all. How marvelous is the light of day! And how\ndivine the Sun!\"\n\n\"And tell me, maiden,\" said Prince Kenai, \"now that you see all around\nthe light of day, dost love it still as well as in the old dark days\nwhen you did dream of it?\"\n\n\"Indeed, I find the light which you bring more lovely than my wildest\ndreams,\" she answered. \"To see the smiling skies, the blue sea all\na-sparkle with great glittering banks of ice, the green grass thick with\nflowers everywhere, and over all the Sun shine down in wealth of golden\nbeams--I knew not how to dream a dream so fair; and next to thee, my\nprince, I love the light of day above all else.\"\n\nHere they heard shouts of cheer and praise, and soon great multitudes of\nfolk went running through the forest. \"A miracle! A marvel 'tis,\" cried\nthey, \"that Maiden Matanuska is alive!\" And then, in deep amazement,\nthey listened to the tales the Maiden Matanuska and Prince Kenai told.\nSuch tales were rare, even in those olden days of wonders. When both\nwere done, the Chief Counselor of the Northland Kingdom spoke.\n\n\"Now listen, all good folk,\" said he, \"and learn that in this very hour\nthe cruel Boreas, fearing the great power of the Sun, has fled the\nNorthland Kingdom, and we are now without a king. Whom shall we choose?\"\n\n\"Prince Kenai! Prince Kenai!\" cried the people. \"'Twas he who gave our\nMaiden Matanuska the magic robe that saved her life; and he it was who\nbrought the Sun to brighten our dark land. He was our benefactor; let\nhim be our king!\"\n\n\"Wilt be our king, Prince Kenai?\" asked the counselor.\n\n\"If Maiden Matanuska marry me and be your queen, I shall be king,\" said\nPrince Kenai. \"What say you, my loved one?\"\n\n\"I'll marry you, my prince,\" she answered, \"for I do love you truly. Our\nfeather mantles which have so nobly served us in the past shall be our\nwedding robes; the birds our royal choristers; the birches tall our\nstately chapel walls, and the blue sky above all, glowing with the\nGolden Sun, shall be our ceiling. Your good eagle and my good Reynard\nshall stand beside us and let all folk both high and low be bidden to\nour feast to wish us joy and happiness.\"\n\nAll things were done as Maiden Matanuska ordered, and they were married\non that very day. A royal feast was made, and sports and games were set;\nindeed there was a holiday that lasted forty days. The Sun was bidden to\nattend, and so well pleased was he that he stayed in the sky above the\nNorthland Kingdom and set not once until the forty days had passed, and\nall that time was burning daylight.\n\nThen, when the holiday was done at last, the Sun took leave. \"Farewell,\nall folk, and you good king and queen,\" said he. \"And though night come\nwhen I have turned my face from you, fear not. For in the morning I will\ncome again and bring with me the light of day.\" Which thing he did.\n\nAnd from that time the Northland Kingdom was no more a land of darkness\nand of gloom. The overhanging mists returned no more, and when 't was\nnight, the Moon and Stars shone softly down. The Sun his face turned\ntoward there every day, and though his beams were pale and wan when he\nwas in the Southland, he stayed each summer forty days and nights and\nset not once; which custom he continues to this very day.\n\nPrince Kenai and the Maiden Matanuska reigned many years and were\nbeloved by all their subjects. Though scores of years passed, by virtue\nof their feather mantles they were always young and fair as on the day\nthey wore them first. Indeed, 'tis said they never died, though folk who\ndwell still in the Northland Kingdom differ as to what became of them.\nSome say that when Prince Kenai and Maiden Matanuska grew weary of this\nlife at last, they wrapped their feather mantles round them, and borne\nupon the eagle's wings, set off to visit at the mansion of the Sun. But\nother folk declare that on dark misty nights a pair resembling them are\noften seen to wander through the dim aisles of a certain birchen forest\nwhere the silver foxes are found.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nTHE LITTLE TREE THAT NEVER GREW UP\n\n\nLong, long ago, when the world was very young, so young that the flowers\nand trees and grasses had voices and talked with each other, or sang\nwith the breezes that blew softly around them, there lived in the midst\nof a forest a very little tree.\n\nNow, though the Little Tree was straight as an arrow and had glossy\ngreen leaves, she was the most unhappy little tree in all the world. She\ncould not sing with the winds, and neither could she speak to the other\ntrees around her. These other trees often spoke to the Little Tree and\nasked her questions. When she did not answer, they thought the Little\nTree stupid and sulky. These other trees that could sing and speak began\nto grow tall, and after a time they grew so high their topmost branches\nseemed to touch the sky. Then, even though the Little Tree had spoken,\nthey could never have heard her. These other trees grew tall as giants.\nThe Little Tree grew each year, it is true; but she grew so slightly\nthat it could scarcely be noticed. She was greatly ashamed of her small\nstature.\n\nAs the seasons went on, the branches of the tall trees grew so very\nthick that they shut out the light down in the forest. Then the Little\nTree could not see the sun at all, and one by one the ferns and flowers\nat her roots died from the dampness, and the Little Tree was all alone!\nNothing broke the silence of the dark, still forest save the calls of\nthe birds when they returned each year to build their nests, or the\nsound of the branches swaying in the breeze. Then there came at last one\nsoft spring day when the Little Tree waked from her winter's sleep and\nbegan to sing. She was so happy that she sang for hours; but alas! there\nwas no other tree to hear her or to answer her song. So the Little Tree,\nthough she now possessed the voice for which she had longed, was more\nlonely than ever before.\n\nAt night, when all the world was sleeping, and while the Night Wind\nroamed the forest, the Little Tree would weep softly to herself because\nshe was so sad. Then, after a time, her lament grew to be a song, a very\nsad song, it is true; but oh, so very beautiful! The Night Wind, who was\nfond of singing, came to listen each evening for the Little Tree's\nlament, and as he blew upon his way, he carried her song to the Stars.\nNow it happened one night the Little Tree was so sad and lonely that she\ncould not sing; instead, she wept until her tiny branches shook with\nsobbing.\n\n\"Oh,\" mourned the Little Tree, \"I am so lonely here! I wish I could die.\nIf only I might burn on some cottager's hearth or warm poor children's\nhands; but alas, I am the most useless tree that grows!\"\n\nThe Night Wind heard the Little Tree sobbing, and going close, whispered\nsoftly to her:\n\n\"Oh, Little Tree, please do not be so sad. What does it matter that your\nsinging voice came after all the other trees had grown too tall to hear\nyou, or that you are such a very little tree? Your voice is so sweet and\nlovely that the birds of this forest now model their choicest songs on\nyours. Each night I carry your songs to the Stars, and they too have\nsung your lovely music.\"\n\n\"Oh, Night Wind, do you tell me true?\" begged the Little Tree. \"For I am\nsuch a little tree, how can the Stars hear me?\"\n\n\"They hear you thus, my Little Tree,\" replied the Night Wind, and\nbrushed aside the branches of the tallest trees.\n\nThen looking up, the Little Tree beheld the Stars high up in the heavens\nshining down on her. They seemed to smile and beckon as she watched, and\nso she sang her sweetest songs to please them. The Night Wind and the\nStars themselves sang with the Little Tree, and made such lovely music\nthat had any one been listening, they would have thought they heard\nsweet strains from paradise. But all this happened when the world was\nvery young, and there were but few people dwelling on it.\n\n\"And now, my Little Tree,\" the Night Wind said, when he had dropped the\nbranches of the tall trees once again, \"pray do not wish for some\nwoodman to cut you down. I would miss you sadly, if you were to go away\nfrom the forest.\"\n\nFarther on in the forest, the Night Wind met the Spirits of the Woods.\nThey were two sister spirits robed in floating garments made of mists.\nThey roamed the forest and cared for all the trees. They knew how long\neach tree would dwell in the forest and when the woodman's ax would fell\nit. The Spirits of the Woods possessed a magic bag of dreams, and from\nthis bag the Night Wind begged a dream for the Little Tree.\n\n\"Ah,\" he pleaded, \"the Little Tree is so sad and lonely, the other trees\nhave grown so far away they cannot hear her sing, and neither can she\ntalk with them. She would dearly love a beautiful dream from this dream\nbag of yours, Spirit.\"\n\n\"Ah, Night Wind,\" replied the Spirit doubtfully, \"there is but one dream\nleft, and that is the Little Tree's dream of the future. If we give it\nto her, you must promise that you will not answer her questions\nconcerning it. For it is a strange dream and will puzzle her greatly.\nWill you promise?\"\n\n\"I promise,\" said the Night Wind, and blew upon his way.\n\n  [Illustration: From this bag the Night Wind begged a dream for the\n  Little Tree.--_Page 96._]\n\nAnd after that night, the Little Tree was not lonely or sad. She never\nbecame a joyous tree--her youth had been too sorrowful for that--but she\nwas content. Each night, when all the forest filled with creeping\nshadows, she sang her songs to the Stars, and she came to love the Night\nWind dearly. Each night the Little Tree dreamed the dream the Spirits of\nthe Woods had given her, and strange to tell, it was always the same\ndream. It was such a pleasant, lovely dream that sometimes the Little\nTree was puzzled, and wondered whether she really lived in her beautiful\ndream, and only dreamed that she lived in the forest.\n\nEach night the Little Tree dreamed she floated far away, until she\nreached a palace which was set on a high hill. Within the palace was a\ngreat hall richly hung with silken tapestries and gleaming softly with\nlight that shone from carved crystal bowls. Within this palace hall a\ngreat king and his court were seated, and sweet strains of music floated\non the breeze. But the strangest thing of all was this: the Little Tree\noften thought she heard her own songs in this palace hall. She was not\nsure, but she was greatly puzzled. She knew that she had dwelled always\nin the forest, and how could she know the music of noble lords and\nladies? Then one night in her dream the Little Tree was startled to hear\nthe sound of her own voice singing the songs she had so often sung to\nthe Stars. She pressed eagerly to the palace window to see within, but\nbecause of her branches she could not go very near, and she could not\nsee. Then came the dawn, and her dream floated far away.\n\nAll through the day, the Little Tree called again and again to the tall\ntrees and asked them of her curious dream; but, of course, they could\nnot hear her. She waited eagerly to see the daylight fade, and when the\nNight Wind came, she questioned him:\n\n\"Oh, Night Wind,\" cried the Little Tree, \"will you tell me of my dream?\nI am sure I heard my own voice singing; but how could it be that noble\nlords and ladies within that palace hall would listen to me? For am I\nnot the least of little trees?\"\n\nBut the Night Wind did not tell her truly. He had given his promise that\nhe would not, and so he answered her, saying:\n\n\"Now that I do not know, my dear, but though you are indeed the least of\nlittle trees, you are the only Little Tree in all this world to me. Of\nnoble lords and ladies and their ways I know nothing, for do they not\nshut me from their homes and hearths when I would enter and warm myself?\nBut now, Little Tree, it grows late; will you not sing for me?\"\n\nThus with the Night Wind and the Stars for company, the Little Tree\nlived on for many years. From them she learned much wisdom and came to\nknow about the great world which lay beyond the forest, and that all\ntrees would one day go there. And all this time the world was growing\nolder, and the forest was not so silent as it had been in the time when\nthe Little Tree first dwelled there. Sometimes the woodcutter's ax rang\nout, and the Little Tree would hear a great tree come crashing down to\nearth.\n\n\"Oh, why must I leave the freedom of the forest and be torn limb from\nlimb in some wretched mill!\" cried one of the tall trees, as he fell\nclose by the Little Tree one day.\n\n\"Ah,\" replied the Little Tree softly, \"you would not wish to dwell\nforever in this forest, would you? In the world there is much that a\ngreat tree may do to bring happiness.\"\n\n\"Who is it that speaks to me thus gently?\" asked the Fallen Tree. \"I do\nnot know the voice, although I thought I knew all trees growing in this\nforest, for I was among the first trees to grow here.\"\n\n\"And so was I,\" replied the Little Tree. \"Do you not remember the Little\nTree that could neither speak nor sing? I am she. For though I am ages\nand ages old, I am scarcely taller than yonder little fir of ten\nseasons.\"\n\n\"In those days we thought you stupid and sulky, Little Tree,\" replied\nthe Fallen Tree, \"but by your speech I now can see that we were wrong.\nWho has taught you all your wisdom, and have you not been lonely all\nthese years?\"\n\n\"Indeed, I was very lonely,\" said the Little Tree. \"Even after I could\nsing, it was no better. The flowers and ferns had died, and there was\nnone to hear me or talk to me. One night I wept and wished to die, and\nthe Night Wind, who is of a kind heart, cheered me with words of praise.\nSince then I have never been sad, for I have had a lovely dream each\nnight, and I have sung to the Stars.\"\n\nBut this the Fallen Tree could not believe, and so he answered sharply:\n\n\"Now, Little Tree, how can that be? Tall as I was, and high as I stood\nwhen I was monarch of this forest, never once could I send my songs to\nthe Stars, although I tried to do so many times. Now surely such a\nlittle tree as you could not accomplish what a monarch failed to do! You\nhave learned wisdom without doubt, and you sing very sweetly, I daresay;\nbut take care lest your dreaming lead you in untruthful ways.\"\n\n\"Oh, pray believe me!\" cried the Little Tree. \"Wait only until the\ntwilight comes, and the Night Wind himself will tell you so.\"\n\n\"More foolish talk!\" scoffed the Fallen Tree. \"The Night Wind is but a\nfeeble creature to a monarch of the forest, such as I. When I stood\naloft in all my glory, the Night Wind could not bend the smallest twig\nof mine unless I willed it so.\"\n\n\"That is true, my friends,\" spoke a gentle voice beside them. It was the\nvoice of the Night Wind, for all unknown to them, darkness had fallen.\n\"Because you were so proud and held your branches firm against my gentle\nbreezes, never once did I carry your songs to the Stars; but I have done\nso for the Little Tree.\" Then he brushed aside the branches of the tall\ntrees, and the Little Tree sang to her shining audience so far above in\nheaven. She sang until the Fallen Tree slept, and then the Night Wind\ngently dropped the branches until the forest was all dark once more.\nThen he kissed the Little Tree farewell and blew upon his way.\n\nNow, as more people came to dwell upon the earth, more trees were needed\nevery year to shelter them. The forest was no longer dark and silent.\nThe woodman's ax rang out, and here and there the sun shone down where\ngroves of noble trees had once stood. But even so, the ferns and flowers\nand grasses did not bloom again. The woodcutters made dusty roads and\ntrails, and heaps of dead leaves eddied in the breeze. At last one day a\ncertain king gave orders that all remaining trees of this forest should\nbe cut down. He planned to build a noble city where the forest stood.\nNow charcoal fires flared all night, and herds of oxen tramped the whole\nday through, and soon a dreary waste of withering branches whose brown\nleaves crackled dismally was all that remained of the noble forest.\n\n\"Ah, Little Tree,\" the Night Wind mourned, \"there is no longer any need\nfor me. When the forest stood, it was my work and pleasure to brush the\nfallen leaves and lull the trees to sleep. Indeed, were it not for you,\nI would be desolate. Each night I tremble lest I shall not find you\nawaiting me.\"\n\n\"Ah, Night Wind,\" replied the Little Tree softly, \"it is because you\nlove me that you fear to lose me; but do not be troubled. I have seen\ngreat trees fall to my right and to my left, and small trees likewise,\nyet no one seems to want me. I am such a little tree; I am sure that you\nwill find me here forever. That does not grieve me, even so, for I have\ncome to love you dearly, and it would break my heart to be parted from\nyou.\"\n\nThen one dull winter's day, the Little Tree felt a human hand laid on\nher slender trunk, and she knew her fate had come. She was such a little\ntree that it took but two blows to fell her. When the Night Wind came\nagain, he found the Little Tree moaning with the pain of her wounds. He\ncaressed her tenderly and begged her to say her pain was better.\n\n\"Oh, Night Wind, the pain is truly better since you have come,\"\nwhispered the Little Tree bravely, and died in his arms.\n\nWhen the Night Wind knew the Little Tree was gone, he flung himself down\non the earth beside her, and wept and wailed so bitterly that the\nSpirits of the Woods came from the ends of the world to see what\ntroubled him.\n\n\"Ah,\" sighed the first Spirit. \"How sad it is the Night Wind should be\nparted from the Little Tree. Could we not make him a mortal, so that he\nmay meet her again in the world?\"\n\n\"Agreed,\" replied the second Spirit. So while the Night Wind slept, the\nSpirits of the Woods changed him to a mortal and called him Robello.\n\nThus it was that some time later a youth called Robello came to dwell on\nthe outskirts of the noble city which stood in place of the great\nforest. Now this Robello did not till the soil, and neither did he herd\nflocks on the hillsides. Instead, at evenings, he played his violin so\nsweetly and so sadly that some folk could not tell his music from the\nwailing of the winds. People from that region, as they passed his\ncottage at nightfall, paused to listen to Robello's playing, and many a\none wiped a tear from his eye at the memories it stirred. Robello's fame\nbegan to go abroad, and wise men learned in the arts of song declared\nthat if Robello but possessed a fine violin, the world could hear no\nbetter music.\n\nNow, at this time it happened that the king (the same who had ordered\nthe great forest cut down) received the gift of a rare violin. The maker\nof this violin vowed that its like was not to be found the whole world\nover, for when 'twas touched with the bow, it sent forth a sobbing sound\nlike the cry of a broken heart. The maker of this rare violin besought\nthe king and begged that no mere fiddler be allowed to touch it, and\nthat a music master should play it always. The king agreed and\naccordingly commanded that all who played the violin should appear at\nthe palace. Robello went in company of a thousand other players.\n\nThe palace of the king was set on a high hill, and as Robello entered,\nhe seemed dimly to remember it, although he knew well that he had never\nbeen within its gates before. The king and court sat waiting within a\ngreat hall richly hung with silken tapestries and gleaming with lights\nthat shone softly through carved crystal bowls. The violin players were\ngathered together, and to Robello fell the lot of playing first.\n\nThe king himself placed the violin in Robello's arms, and slowly, as\nthough in a dream, Robello drew the bow across the strings. With the\nfirst notes wakened memories that had long been slumbering. Then as he\nplayed, Robello felt the great hall grow dim, until at last it seemed to\nfade away, and he saw naught but a vision: the deep dark forest just at\ndusk, and he was once more the Night Wind caressing the Little Tree.\n\n\"Ah, my Little Tree,\" he whispered, as he bent lovingly above the\nviolin. \"This is the dream that you did love so dearly. Do you remember\nme?\"\n\n\"Ah, Night Wind,\" sang the Little Tree, \"although they call thee by\nanother name, to me thou wilt be the Night Wind forever. He who\nfashioned me thus spoke truly when he said I sobbed like a broken heart,\nfor my heart has been broken with longing for thee. Let us sing the\nsongs we sang to the Stars so long ago.\"\n\nThen Robello played as he had never played before, and the violin sang\nas never violin had sung before. When the last notes died away, there\nwere tears in the eyes of the noble lords and ladies, and the king sat\nsilent for a time. At last he spoke, and ordered that all other players\nbe sent away, and declared that none save Robello should ever touch this\nrare violin.\n\nSo Robello remained in the palace of the king and was made chief\nmusician to his majesty, and never had the Little Tree sung so sweetly\nin the forest as she sang now at Robello's magic touch. Robello played\nat all court festivals, and nothing had such power to soothe the king as\nhad Robello's music when he played his violin at nightfall.\n\nThen came a sad day when his servants went to waken him and found\nRobello dead, his beloved violin clasped closely in his arms. The king\nand all his court mourned the passing of Robello for many days. Then one\nevening, just at dusk, they buried him with his beloved violin still\nclasped closely in his arms, and strewed his grave with boughs of trees.\nAnd in that region, to this day, there are some folk who say that when\nnight falls Robello can still be heard playing his violin within the\npalace hall; but others say this is not right; it is the Night Wind\ncalling softly to the Little Tree that never grew up.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nTHE TALE OF PUNCHINELLO\n\n\nThere lived once long ago, in days of jesters and court fools and\nharlequins, a certain clown called Punchinello. This Punchinello, like\nall others of his trade, whitened his face and painted it in grotesque\nfashion. He wore gay satin robes of many colors all hung with silver\nbells that jingled when he danced, and pom-pom slippers turned up at the\ntoes. This Punchinello was a clown of clowns, and his droll dances and\nhis merry tricks and songs had made thousands laugh.\n\nPunchinello traveled around the world in company with a circus. Whenever\nthis circus reached a city, it formed a great parade before it entered.\nThen would the people throng the streets and highways, eager for the\nshow. They clapped their hands when lions roaring in their cages and\nelephants led by their keepers passed along; but when this famous\nPunchinello, prancing and twirling, came in view, the crowds cheered\nwildly with applause.\n\n\"Oh, welcome! Welcome, Punchinello!\" they would shout.\n\nThe ladies threw him flowers and children blew him kisses. Kings and\nqueens had often hailed him thus, for Punchinello pleased all folk.\nThose who were sad and those who sorrowed often sent for Punchinello\nwhen the circus show was done, and he would dance and sing to cheer\nthem. But for this service he would take no gold or present. So though\nhe grew to fame, this Punchinello grew not rich.\n\n\"It is enough that I can make sad faces glad,\" said Punchinello, and\nwrapping his great cloak about him, he would steal away, leaving\nhappiness behind him.\n\n\"My store of wealth lies in the golden smiles my antics bring,\" he often\nsaid, \"and when my merry songs and dances please the world no more, I\nshall be poor indeed.\" But with his light, fantastic dancing, and his\nsongs and jests, with his twirlings and his leapings,--was it likely\nthat the world would ever cease to smile on Punchinello? The world is\nalways fond of fun and laughter.\n\n\"Punchinello is the greatest man in all the world,\" some folk said when\nthey had seen him dance and heard him sing.\n\n\"That is not right,\" said others. \"He would be emperor if that were\ntrue; but Punchinello is the greatest man in all the circus.\"\n\n\"But neither is that right,\" still others said. \"For if he were, he\nwould be owner of the circus. But Punchinello is the greatest clown in\nall the world.\" And on this all folk agreed.\n\nNow on its way about the world, the circus chanced to journey to a city\nwhere a king and queen held court. These royal folk and all their court\nwatched the gay procession from their balconies and were delighted. The\nking and queen sent heralds, saying on a certain night that they would\ngrace the show and to be sure that Master Punchinello played before the\nroyal box. Then as the pageant wound upon its way, with banners flying\nand with music of the fife and drum, they passed a building where the\nsick were tended. It was a hospital. No eager faces gave them welcome\nhere, and lest they should disturb the sick, the fife and drum ceased\nplaying. Punchinello fell to walking soberly along. Suddenly he chanced\nto spy a tiny, wistful face pressed to the window pane. Then Punchinello\nbounded lightly up the ladder, and leaping into the room, began to dance\nand twirl about to please this little child.\n\n\"And does my dancing please you, little one?\" asked Punchinello when he\npaused.\n\n\"Oh, yes, sir!\" cried the child. His name was Beppo. \"Please dance again\nfor me. It makes my pain grow better.\"\n\n\"Alas! I cannot, little one,\" said Punchinello, pointing to the circus\nthat was passing. \"I must make haste to join my friends again.\"\n\n\"Then would you come to-night when it is dark and dance for me?\" begged\nlittle Beppo. \"The pain is always worse when it is dark, you know.\"\n\n\"Indeed, I'll come, my little one,\" said kindly Punchinello, and his\ngayly painted face grew sad. \"Just leave your window open, little one,\nand I'll steal in and dance for you and sing you to the land of happy\ndreams.\"\n\nAnd that night, when the circus show was done and all the lights were\nout, while other tired players slept, this kindly Punchinello wrapped\nhis cloak about him and stole out underneath the stars to visit little\nBeppo. The little lame child was delighted with his songs and dances, so\nkindly Punchinello vowed that he would come each night and do the same,\nwhile the circus remained in the city. Each night the child lay waiting\nfor him eagerly, and how he hugged and kissed this Punchinello when at\nlast he came!\n\n\"Last night I dreamed of running through the woods,\" cried little Beppo\nto him one night. \"I saw tall trees that seemed to touch the sky and\nheard the birds sing in their nests. I never had a dream like this\nbefore, and your sweet songs did give it to me, Punchinello. Come, dance\nand sing for me.\"\n\nThen Punchinello danced his best. His slippered feet like lightning\nflew; the bells upon his robes rang out, and he would twirl upon his\ntoes until his many-colored baggy robes stood out and he seemed like a\nbrilliant human top. He jumped, he twirled, he leaped high in the air\nand bowed before the little cot as though it were a royal throne. When\nhe at last grew weary, he would stop, but then the child would beg for\nmore.\n\n\"Oh, please, dear Punchinello,\" he would say, \"just once again. It makes\nmy pain grow less to see you whirl.\" Then Punchinello could not refuse,\nand he would whirl and twirl again until he was too weary to do more.\nFolding little Beppo in his arms, he sang him lullabies until the child\nfell fast asleep. And so the nights went on.\n\nThe nurses noticed that little Beppo's cheeks grew plump and that his\neyes grew bright. He said his pain was better, and they thought it was\nthe medicine. They knew nothing of this Punchinello. He entered each\nnight through the window and departed the same way. The circus folk said\nPunchinello was not well and told him he must rest.\n\n\"Our show would be as nothing if it were not for you, Punchinello,\" they\ndeclared. \"To-morrow the king and queen will come to see us play, so\nrest you well to-night that you may dance your gayest for them.\" Though\nPunchinello promised, late that night, when all the world lay sleeping,\nhe stole away to dance for little Beppo.\n\n\"Oh, Punchinello!\" cried the little lame child. \"I'll tell you of my\ndream. I dreamed I wore a spotted satin robe like yours and pom-pom\nslippers turned up at the toes. I dreamed I danced and twirled as\nlightly as you do yourself. Now is that not a pleasant dream for one who\ncannot even walk?\"\n\n\"It is, my little one,\" said Punchinello. \"Come sit upon my knee and\nwind your arms about my neck. Now tell me, has your pain been less\nto-day?\"\n\n\"Much less, much less, good Punchinello,\" said the child. \"Indeed, I\nthink your dances and your songs have charmed it all away. I think about\nmy lovely dreams by day, and lie and wait for you by night, and have no\ntime for pain, it seems. Come dance for me, my Punchinello.\"\n\n\"To-night I'll sing instead, my little Beppo,\" answered Punchinello. He\nwas weary, and when he whirled his head grew dizzy. \"I'll sing you a\nsong of ships that sail through seas of clouds; and trees as sing the\nworld to slow sleep when winds do blow.\"\n\nBut little Beppo wished to see him dance. \"See, Punchinello,\" said he\nsoftly, \"around your neck I tie my locket. It is my only treasure. They\nsay my mother placed it on me when she died. It has a bluebird painted\non it which is the only bird I've ever seen. Now wilt thou dance for me,\ndear Punchinello?\" He kissed the clown's queer painted face, and\nPunchinello danced.\n\nAnd never had he danced so well before. As though he heard afar the\nmusic that the fairies make at midnight, he waltzed and twirled faster\nand yet faster, pausing not at all. He pranced, he leaped and spun upon\nhis toe as though he were a dancing doll wound up to dance so long. The\nlittle lame child watched him eagerly, and as he watched, as though he\ntoo heard magic strains from fairyland, he sprung up from his cot and\nstraightway danced and whirled about in Punchinello's footsteps.\n\n\"Look, look, dear Punchinello!\" little Beppo cried. \"I am no longer lame\nbut dance as well as you yourself.\"\n\n  [Illustration: \"Look, look, dear Punchinello!\" little Beppo cried.\n  \"I am no longer lame.\"--_Page 116._]\n\nBut Punchinello, whirling like a leaf, made no reply. He sang his gayest\nsongs and leaped so lightly in the air, there seemed to be a thousand\nharlequins, and little Beppo followed lightly after. Suddenly the child\nstopped, for Punchinello was no longer dancing.\n\n\"Oh, my good Punchinello!\" he exclaimed. \"Why did you run away? I'll\nfollow after you,\" and down the ladder he swiftly sped. He saw the white\ntents shining in the moonlight. \"Indeed, I'll join the circus with my\nPunchinello,\" said he to himself, \"and travel around the world with\nhim.\"\n\nBut alas! Poor Punchinello had not stolen off, as little Beppo thought.\nFor while in his wild dance that charmed the lame child's pain away,\npoor Punchinello felt himself grow ill. His head grew giddy, and at last\nhe fell upon the floor, and there the nurses found him in the morning.\nThey placed poor Punchinello on the bed where little Beppo had lain for\nso many years, and wondered whence the clown had come.\n\nAnd so it was the king and queen who went next day to see the show were\ndispleased because the famous Punchinello was not there to dance and\njest for them. No other clowns or harlequins would please their royal\nmajesties, and so they left in anger. They bade the circus owner strip\nhis tents and in that very hour depart, and when another morning came,\nour little Beppo found himself in a strange city with the circus folk.\nAt first these circus folk were puzzled what to do with him, but as the\nchild could dance and cut droll capers, they made for him a spotted\nsatin suit and gave him pom-pom slippers turned up at the toes. They\nwould have called him Little Punchinello, but this the child would not\nallow.\n\n\"Good Punchinello was my friend,\" said little Beppo. \"And 'twas from him\nI learned to dance before I ever walked. I will not take his name, but I\nwill seek him everywhere until I find him.\"\n\nSome circus folk thought Punchinello had run off to join a show of\ntraveling jugglers, and others thought perhaps he had grown tired of\ndancing and grimacing. Then by and by they ceased to talk of him, and\nall forgot him, save little Beppo.\n\nMeanwhile poor Punchinello lay in a raging fever. The nurses thought\nthat he would die, for he was very ill. But after a long time the fever\nleft him, and then they knew he would grow better. He asked one day for\nlittle Beppo, but they could tell him nothing of the child.\n\n\"We came to waken him one morning, but the child was gone and you were\nlying ill,\" said they. \"We could not see how this could be, for little\nBeppo was too lame to walk; but though we searched the city, he could\nnot be found.\"\n\nAnother day poor Punchinello asked about the circus, and again the\nnurses shook their heads.\n\n\"The circus folk have gone long since,\" said they. \"The king was angry\nwith them and bade them go in haste, 'tis said. We cannot say which way\nthey went.\"\n\nWhen Punchinello was all well at last; he rose and donned his\nmany-colored robes that jingled when he walked. He had grown thin and\npale, and they became him poorly, but he had not money to buy others. He\nwrapped his great cloak all about him and started out to earn his bread.\nPoor Punchinello was too weak to dance; he could not plow or dig; he\nhad not been so trained. And so at last this famous Punchinello stood\nupon the highways and sang for pennies that good-natured people threw to\nhim.\n\n\"I am the famous Punchinello,\" he would sometimes say. \"Have you not\nheard of famous Punchinello of the circus?\"\n\nBut those who heard him laughed in scorn. \"If you be famous Punchinello\nof the circus,\" they would say, \"why sing you then for coppers like a\nbeggar, and where is the circus? You are not Punchinello, but a fraud.\"\n\nThus poor and friendless, Punchinello started out to seek the circus.\nHis wanderings led him into many lands, and often he met folk who told\nhim that the circus had passed there. But Punchinello, journeying afoot,\ncould never travel fast enough to overtake the circus. His pom-pom\nslippers soon were torn by stones along the highway, and he went\nbarefoot. His satin robe of many colors faded and grew worn. Punchinello\npatched here with yarn and there with bits of leather cloth or sacking,\nuntil the colors had all fled, and it was naught but rags sewn all\ntogether. Poor Punchinello danced no more, for ragged robes and dancing\ndo not fit; but even so, his voice was sweet and clear as ever.\n\n\"So I am not yet poor, despite my rags,\" he would say bravely to\nhimself. \"For yesterday I caught a golden smile from one who flung a\ncopper; and who knows? Perhaps to-day I may again be favored.\"\n\nThen one day in his wanderings Punchinello awakened to the music of the\nfife and drum. He saw gay banners flying and hurried to the highway with\nthe crowds. It was the circus he had sought so long, and as he saw his\nold friends marching by, poor Punchinello's eyes filled with tears of\njoy. The lion tamers with their roaring beasts strode by, the elephants\nin scarlet blankets decked, the jugglers next, and then a little dancing\nclown who stepped and pranced in drollest fashion.\n\n\"Oh, welcome, Beppo! Welcome!\" cried the crowds, and Punchinello saw it\nwas the lame child he had known.\n\nHe darted from the crowd and cried, \"Oh, little Beppo, dost remember me?\nI am good Punchinello.\"\n\nBut here the circus folk protested. \"Be off! Be off! You bunch of\nrags!\" cried they. \"Our Punchinello was no beggar, and you are not he.\"\n\n\"I swear I am!\" cried Punchinello. \"Do you not know me, little Beppo?\"\n\n\"When I was ill and could not walk,\" the child replied, \"a clown called\nPunchinello cured me of my lameness by his merry songs and ways; but his\nface I know not. He came always in the night. When he danced, he danced\nso swiftly that a million harlequins there seemed to be about me: and\nwhen he held me in his arms, I hid my head against his shoulder, because\nI loved him dearly.\"\n\n\"Do you remember this, then, little one?\" asked poor Punchinello, and\nshowed the bluebird locket, \"the only treasure you did own, and which\nyou gave to me?\"\n\n\"I do, and you are my good Punchinello!\" little Beppo cried, and flung\nhis arms about him. He kissed the shabby creature and wrapped him in his\nown fine scarlet cloak to hide the rags. \"How I have sought the world\nfor you, dear Punchinello, to tell you of my gratitude; but I could\nnever find you.\"\n\nThe circus folk went running and crowded round the pair. \"Oh, welcome!\nWelcome, Punchinello!\" they exclaimed and shook his hand. \"A thousand\nwelcomes. We have missed you sadly and now you will be our clown again.\"\n\n\"But little Beppo is your clown. What of him?\" asked Punchinello.\n\n\"Oh, we shall both be clowns!\" declared the child, \"like father and like\nson. Together we shall dance those dances that you taught me and sing\nthose songs with which you charmed the world.\"\n\nAnd so this Punchinello found himself once more in satin robes of many\ncolors, all jingling merrily with bells, and pom-pom slippers turned up\nat the toes. His face he whitened and then painted it in grotesque\nfashion, and with his little Beppo he danced that night and made his\nold-time capers and grimaces.\n\n\"Well done! Well done! Good Punchinello!\" cried the people. \"We have\nmissed you sorely, but enjoy you all the more for missing you.\" They\nlaughed and cheered him wildly until the show was done.\n\n\"And now,\" said Punchinello, as he laid him down to rest that night, \"I\nam the richest man in all the world. A thousand golden smiles were mine\nto-night, and better still I have the love and gratitude of little Beppo\nwhom I dearly love. What more than that could Punchinello ask? And so\ngood night!\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nTHE STRANGE TALE OF BROWN BEAR\n\n\nLong, long ago, in the very far north, there lived a mammoth Brown Bear.\nNever in all the world was seen such a gigantic creature. Brown Bear was\nso tall his eyes looked over tops of trees, and his footprints were so\ndeep that a grown man could stand full height in them. They were great\npits.\n\nNow Brown Bear owned a gold mine so rich that the king envied it. Also\nBrown Bear loved gold exceedingly, but as he had no hands he could not\ndig for it. Therefore he lay in wait for travelers journeying through\nthe forest, and seizing them, he would carry them off to be his slaves\nand dig his gold. All folk suffered from this cruel custom,--the rich\nand poor, the high and low, the young and old. The king of that land\noffered rich rewards to the hunter who would slay this monster or to\nthe trapper who would snare him. But no arrow was made strong enough to\npierce the hide of Brown Bear and no trap could hold him. So he\ncontinued to carry off all captured folk to his gold mine underneath the\nmountain side. 'Twas said that Brown Bear had as many slaves as there\nwere subjects left in the kingdom. 'Twas also said, the walls of Brown\nBear's cave were lined so thick with gold that they outshone the sun.\n\nIt happened one evening that a poor peasant returning to his hut missed\nhis little child. His wife had lately died, and there was no one at home\nto tend the little one. He asked the neighbors of the child and learned\nthat it had last been seen running toward the forest. In deep anxiety,\nthe peasant hurried to the forest, but though he searched all night and\ncalled, he could not find his little one. When morning came at last and\nit was light, he saw the child's bright scarlet cloak beneath a tree and\nnot far off the mighty footprints of Brown Bear.\n\n\"Alas!\" the peasant wept, \"my little one is carried off by this great\nmonster. I do not wish to live!\" He seized the little scarlet cloak,\nand weeping and lamenting pressed it to his heart. Then when he could\nweep no more, he rose and began to follow in the path of Brown Bear's\nfootprints.\n\n\"I'll seek this Brown Bear in his cave,\" thought he, \"and if he make a\nslave of me, I shall at least be with my little one, and if he kill me,\nI care not.\"\n\nFor many hours then the peasant toiled through brush and bramble, and\nwhen night came, from weariness he stumbled and fell headlong into one\nof the mighty footprints of Brown Bear. He broke no bones, but for a\nlong time he knew nothing. When he awoke at last, he found beside him a\ntiny baby bear that wept and shivered with the cold.\n\n\"You, little one, are not yet wicked,\" said the peasant; \"and though\nyour race has done me injury, still if I warm and comfort you, so may\nsome good soul warm and comfort my own little one whom I have lost.\"\n\nHe wrapped the baby bear all in the scarlet cloak and fed it bread. Then\nwhen it slept he took it in his arms and climbed out of the pit and set\nupon his way once more. He had not gone far when he reached a cave all\nlined with gold, and this he knew to be the home of Brown Bear. Caring\nnothing for his life, the peasant boldly entered. When he was within, he\nsaw the wife of Brown Bear weeping bitterly.\n\n\"Why come you here, O Peasant?\" cried the wife of Brown Bear. \"Do you\nnot know that my husband makes slaves of all men? Hasten away before he\nreturns lest he do you greater harm than even that.\"\n\n\"I care not if Brown Bear make a slave of me,\" the peasant answered.\n\"Where is thy husband now, and why do you weep?\"\n\n\"My husband, Brown Bear, is out seeking in the forest to find our little\none, who wandered off and who, alas, I fear is dead. Therefore I do\nweep,\" she answered sobbingly, \"and lest you know it not, O Peasant, let\nme tell you this; the loss of children is the greatest grief that ever\nparents suffer.\"\n\n\"Indeed! I know too well what grief is that!\" the peasant cried, and\nbursting into tears, he told the tale of his own woes. Now as he told,\nthe wife of Brown Bear fixed her great eyes on the bundle wrapped in\nscarlet that he carried.\n\n\"What have you there, O Peasant?\" she asked eagerly.\n\n\"A tiny baby bear I found when I fell headlong into one of Brown Bear's\nfootprints,\" he replied. \"The little one did weep from cold and hunger,\nand so I fed and warmed him. And as I could not find it in my heart to\nlet him die, I took him from the pit with me.\"\n\n\"It is my little one! It is my little one!\" the wife of Brown Bear\ncried. She seized the baby bear and hugged and fondled it with joy. \"But\nfor your kind heart, Peasant, he must have died down in the pit; so wait\nyou till my husband comes for your reward.\"\n\nShe raised her great voice in a mighty roar, and presently Brown Bear\ncame crashing through the trees. He seized the baby bear and hugged it\nas his wife had done, and when he heard the story thanked the peasant\nwarmly.\n\n\"Now for this service you have rendered me, I'll give you all my gold, O\nPeasant,\" cried Brown Bear. \"For though I do love gold beyond compare, I\nlove my little one far more.\"\n\n\"And just as dearly do I love my little one whom you did steal, O Brown\nBear,\" the peasant cried. \"And likewise do all parents love their\nlittle ones. Therefore if you will free all those you hold as slaves,\nten thousand homes will be made happy as this home of yours to-night. I\nask this boon, and you may keep your gold which you do love so dearly.\"\n\nBut Brown Bear would not have it so. \"You shall have what you ask and\nall my gold beside,\" said he. \"For while I mourned because my little one\nwas lost, my gold brought me no gladness, but instead did mock me with\nits brightness.\" So saying, he flung open wide the door that led beneath\nthe mountain side and bade his slaves go free. With shouts of joy these\nfolk ran to their homes, and all the forest rang with their rejoicing.\nThe peasant found his little one and held him to his heart.\n\n\"My little one! My little one!\" he cried. \"I wish no more reward than\nthis, O Brown Bear.\"\n\n\"But you shall have more, even so,\" said Brown Bear, and gave to him the\nkey of the gold mine. \"Now you are richer than the king himself, and\nindeed, 'tis right that you should be. For what his thousand hunters\nwith their poisoned barbs and cruel traps could never do, with your\nkind heart you have accomplished, Peasant. Go tell the king and all his\nsubjects that they need fear me nevermore. Through mine own grief I know\nthe sorrows I have caused, and from henceforth I'll live in peace with\nman.\"\n\nThe peasant thanked him and with his little one departed for his home,\nand there a multitude of grateful folk were gathered to greet him. And\nfrom that day the peasant was no longer poor. As owner of the rich gold\nmine, he now became a man of wealth. The king respected him and made him\nnoble because he had done noble service for the kingdom. His title was\nDuke Kindlyheart.\n\nIn closing this strange tale, I too must say that Brown Bear kept his\nword and nevermore molested travelers journeying through the forest.\nIndeed, he grew so friendly with the king and court that he fought all\ntheir wars for them and brought them many victories. When Brown Bear\ndied at last, as creatures all must do, the people wept for him, and all\nthe kingdom put on mourning.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nTHE BEGGAR PRINCESS\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a king who had great wealth and also many\ndaughters, among whom he divided his kingdom before he died. That is, he\ngave lands and estates to all but his fourth daughter, the Princess\nYvonne, who from her lack of fortune was forced to seek her living in\nthe world. Having not a copper piece for her pocket and no gold save the\ngold of her hair, which, though it was very beautiful, nevertheless\nwould not feed or clothe her, she was forced to beg her bread from door\nto door and became known as Yvonne, the Beggar Princess. And the reason\nof it all was this.\n\nThe king, being very wise, wished his daughters to wed none but princes\nfrom the most powerful thrones in the world. As soon as each daughter\nreached the age to marry, the king invited to his court the suitors for\nher hand. The first and second daughters married the princes of their\nfather's choice and went off to their palaces rejoicing, and so likewise\ndid the third daughter. Because of their obedience, the king was pleased\nand gave them land and great riches for their marriage portions. He then\nturned his attention to find a husband for his fourth daughter, the\nPrincess Yvonne, the fairest and most charming of them all.\n\nNow all unknown to her father, Yvonne, loved Prince Godfrey of the\nWestland Kingdom. They had often met in the forest, and there they had\nvowed their love to one another. Prince Godfrey had wished to ask for\nthe hand of Yvonne, but she, knowing her father's iron will, begged him\nto delay.\n\n\"My father is a stern king and rules his daughters in all things,\" said\nthe princess. \"He would part us forever should it come to him that we\nhad dared to do aught without his consent. Return, I pray you, to your\nkingdom and there await my father's summons, for I have heard him say\nthat you would be bidden to his court as suitor for my hand.\"\n\nPrince Godfrey, much against his will, consented to do as Yvonne asked.\nHe kissed her farewell and departed that very evening for the Westland\nKingdom. What befell him on the homeward journey, Princess Yvonne never\nknew, but she saw him no more. She carried his image in her heart and\ncould love no other prince, though her father sent far and near for\nsuitors to please her. Knowing nothing of her love for Prince Godfrey,\nat last the king placed her refusals to a stubborn spirit.\n\n\"My daughter, Yvonne,\" said he, after she had refused five princes in as\nmany days, \"how do you know whom you love or whom you love not? You, my\nfourth daughter, cannot pretend to know as much as I, your father. Where\nhave you been to learn of this nonsense that you call love?\"\n\nTo which the princess made reply: \"That I cannot tell, my father, except\nthat my heart bids me marry only the prince whom I shall love well, and\nof these princes you have brought hither I love none at all. I pray you\nnow, turn your attention to the affairs of my younger sisters, who are\nanxious to wed, and leave me for a little longer in peace.\" She was so\ngentle in her speech and so winning in her manner that the king forgot\nhis vexation and busied himself with seeking suitors for his younger\ndaughters.\n\nThey married according to his wishes and pleased him exceedingly. With\neach marriage, the king gave portions of his kingdom, until at length\nthere remained but two estates, and of his nine daughters there were but\ntwo unmarried. Again he sent for the Princess Yvonne, and this time he\nspoke sharply to her.\n\n\"Now, Yvonne, my fourth daughter, I have listened to your entreaties and\ngiven you your will in all things, and still you are not wed. I cannot\ncompel you to marry if you do not wish to please me; but this I tell\nyou. To-morrow there comes to this castle a prince who has both gold and\nlands, and who moreover is handsome and possessed of a sweet temper. If\nyou wed not him, I will give the remainder of my kingdom to your\nyoungest sister. Then you will be left portionless, and what disgrace\nthat will be! A princess without a fortune is a sad creature, and I\nadvise you to try my patience no longer.\"\n\nYvonne listened with tears in her eyes. She dearly loved her father and\nwished to please him, but her heart still treasured the image of the\nabsent Godfrey.\n\nThe following day, at her father's commands, she dressed herself in her\nfinest robes and bound her hair with the royal jewels. Thus attired, she\nwent forth to the throne room to greet the suitor who awaited her. The\nking was well pleased with her appearance and smiled encouragement to\nher, but alas for his hopes! The Princess Yvonne burst into tears before\nthe court, thereby offending the suitor and bringing down her father's\nwrath. He bade the weeping Yvonne withdraw and commanded his youngest\ndaughter to appear in her place. So agreeable was this youngest daughter\nthat the prince forgot his anger and fell in love with her before a\nsingle day had passed. They were married with great splendor and the\nking, as he had declared, gave them the remainder of his kingdom as a\nwedding gift.\n\nThus it was that the Princess Yvonne went forth from her father's castle\nwithout his blessing, without a fortune, without even a copper piece\nfor her pocket, and without riches of any sort save the bright yellow\ngold of her hair. She had been raised in a castle and therefore knew not\nhow to spin or to weave or even to embroider, which three occupations\nwere considered suitable for young serving women in that day, so she was\nforced to beg her bread from door to door; hence her title, Yvonne, the\nBeggar Princess.\n\nShe left her father's kingdom and by and by found service at a farm. The\npeople were very poor, and she did the work of three, but they treated\nher kindly, and Yvonne worked cheerfully. Early in the morning she drew\nwater from the well, and many a ewer she had carried to the kitchen\nbefore the sun rose. She served the table for the plowmen and took her\nown meal in the pantry while she tidied up after they had gone to the\nfields. All day long she baked and brewed, or scoured pots and pans\nuntil they shone like silver. In spite of her changed fortunes, the\nprincess remained as sweet-tempered as in the days when she lived in her\nfather's castle and had naught to vex her from morning until night. If\nthe butter would not churn, she would sing instead of scolding as the\nother maids did, and presently the butter would come, and such butter as\nit was too! When the loaves burned, she did not cry out against the\nBrownies, who were said to play tricks with the oven, but received the\nscolding from her mistress with humility. At night, no matter how weary\nshe might be from her long day, the princess went willingly to fetch the\ncattle, for the walk through the fields and forest cheered her.\n\nIt was in the forest she had first met Godfrey, and it was in the forest\nhe had vowed to love her always. So as she sang her shepherd's song and\ncalled softly to the straying herds, she was with her absent prince in\nmemory.\n\n\"He will come for me by and by,\" she would whisper to herself sometimes,\nwhen she waked suddenly from a dream in which Godfrey had seemed very\nnear. Other times she would be frightened lest perhaps he might some day\npass her on the highway. \"In my peasant's dress, there is but little to\nremind him of the princess whom he bade farewell in my father's hunting\nforest,\" she would say. She had no mirror and quite forgot her lovely\nface and her golden hair, which a queen might well have envied.\n\nOne evening in autumn, when the night falls early and the darkness\ncreeps on swiftly, the princess wandered through the forest in search of\nthe cattle. She was tired, but as she walked among the trees she grew\nrested, and presently she began to sing. In the open spaces she called\nsoftly, but no creatures came to follow her. The wind sighed through the\npines, and once she started, thinking she heard some one call her name.\nShe stood quite still and listened, but the wind died away and the\nforest was silent. She wandered farther, and the trees grew more dense.\nThere was no moon to guide her, and after a time, the princess perceived\nshe had lost her way.\n\n\"For myself, it does not matter,\" said she, \"I can find shelter in the\nhollow of some tree and there be very comfortable until morning.\" Never\nbefore had the cattle strayed so far but that at the sound of her voice\nthey would come slowly down the paths and crashing through the brush.\nThey followed her like pets. She resolved to call them once more and\nbegan to sing:\n\n  \"Oh, tell me, shepherds, have you ever heard,\n  A wee white lamb that cries at eve--\"\n\nbut she broke off her song and caught her breath sharply. An old mill\nstood before her in the spot where a great oak had spread its branches\nwhen she began her song! The mill sails turned and creaked in the forest\nbreeze, but there was not a sound of life about the place. There were no\ndoors, and though the princess walked all around the walls, she found no\nopening save a sort of window heavily barred and crossbarred. On the top\nof the walls glistened jagged lumps of glass.\n\n\"It looks more like a prison than a mill,\" thought she, and then as she\npeered into the opening, a voice from the dungeon beneath began to sing.\nYvonne's heart leaped for joy; it was the voice of Godfrey, her beloved!\n\n  \"Yvonne, Yvonne, my heart has ached with longing\n  Since I bade you farewell in the forest.\n  Each night my spirit has stolen forth\n  To kiss you in your dreams\n  Lest you forget me, because I came not.\n  A cruel king has stolen my throne and enslaved my land,\n  And until he is driven from it,\n  I must remain in this dungeon, bound by his evil spell.\n  Oh, Yvonne, fly to your father,\n  Beg him send an army to help my people,\n  For they suffer greatly and I am powerless.\n  But before all, Yvonne, unbind your golden hair\n  That its brightness may shine within these prison walls,\n  And sing to me that your heart is still mine.\"\n\nThe princess unbound her hair, and in the forest about the mill all\nbecame bright as day. Then through her tears she sang of her life, for\nshe was deeply grieved to find Godfrey in such a plight.\n\n\"To think that I who love you should be the cause of all your woes!\"\ncried Godfrey, when he had heard her story. \"Return to your father,\nYvonne. Tell him that you will wed whom he wishes and forget me, for I\nhave brought you naught but tears and sorrows.\"\n\n\"Ah, my beloved,\" replied the princess, \"though I cannot see you and you\nbe but a voice, you are the voice of one who loves me, and that to me is\ndearer than all the world. I cannot return to my father, for now he is\ndead, and my sisters have cast me off because I was portionless; but I\nmyself shall seek this cruel king and beg him to set you free.\"\n\n\"Seek this cruel King Ironheart!\" exclaimed Godfrey in dismay. \"Surely,\nYvonne, you know not what you say, for never in all the world before was\nknown such a tyrant! Men he casts into prison, nor does he ever release\nthem, but condemns them to dig beneath the earth that he may fill his\ntreasury with gold; women must toil all day in the fields and for a few\ncoppers; while their children die of hunger, this King Ironheart has\ngranaries filled full of good grains. King Ironheart has vast armies,\neach soldier of which is as cruel as his master, and were you to go to\nthe Westland Kingdom, these same soldiers would seek you out and enslave\nyou with the rest of my people. You must not go, Yvonne; as you love me,\npromise me that you will not.\"\n\n\"The more you tell me of the sorrows of the Westland Kingdom, the more I\nam resolved to seek this cruel Ironheart. If I fail, I fail, but what is\nmy life to me unless you be set free, Godfrey?\"\n\n\"But, Yvonne,\" pleaded Godfrey from his dungeon, \"think of my suffering,\nshould you do this for my sake. What powerful weapon have you to use\nagainst this wicked Ironheart?\"\n\n\"None but courage and a good heart,\" replied the princess. \"In the past\nthey have worked miracles, and so may they work miracles now. Deny me no\nmore, Godfrey, but tell me the way to your kingdom, that I may all the\nsooner return to free you, for I will not fail.\"\n\nNo words could move her, and at last Godfrey gave her her will.\n\n\"Dress your feet in the slippers of bark which you will find beneath a\npine tree close to the mill. They will serve you for your travels until\nyou return again to this forest,\" said he. \"Then watch closely in the\neast, and when the sun rises, start at once to follow him as he journeys\nacross the sky, neither stopping nor staying, and at sunset you will\nfind yourself on the borders of the Westland Kingdom. Should you grow\nweary or should your courage fail you, Yvonne, sing, and my spirit will\nfly to cheer you.\"\n\nSo with the coming of the dawn, Yvonne bound her golden hair and dressed\nher feet in the slippers of bark. She looked toward the east for the\nfirst beam of the sun, and when she turned once more to the mill it had\ndisappeared. In its place stood a great oak with green grass smooth as a\ncarpet growing beneath it. But Yvonne had no time to marvel at this new\nwonder, for the sun rose from the clouds and straightway began its\njourney above the world. All day long Yvonne followed after, now wading\nshallow mountain brooks, now fording rivers wide as any sea. Now she\nwalked through cool green forests and again over hot, sandy desert\nplains. She grew weary and longed to rest, but remembering Godfrey's\nwords, she sang instead. And so it was at sunset she found herself upon\nthe borders of the Westland Kingdom, and too weary for aught else, she\nbegged shelter of a peasant woman and slept soundly until morning.\n\nThe Westland Kingdom, in the days of Prince Godfrey, had been the\npleasantest place in all the world, but now there was not a sadder spot\non earth. From his desert throne, King Ironheart had long coveted its\ngreat forests and fertile fields, its rich mines of silver and gold\nbeneath the earth. He had not dared meet Prince Godfrey in open battle,\nfor Godfrey was a fierce warrior and his nobles were brave soldiers. So\nit was secretly and in the dead of night, when Prince Godfrey was away\nfrom his land on a journey, that King Ironheart entered the Westland\nKingdom and conquered it by force of arms. At the same time he caused\nGodfrey to be imprisoned in the mill which sank beneath the forest by\nday. Then having done thus much, he offered riches and high honors to\nall Westland subjects who would swear allegiance to him as their\nsovereign lord. The people with one accord refused to listen to his\nministers and remained faithful to Godfrey.\n\nKing Ironheart was furious, but he gave them seven days in which to\nchange their minds. At the end of the seventh day, he called a council\nof the Westland people and was gracious in his bearing toward them; but\nfrom the highest noble to the lowest peasant, there was not one in all\nthe kingdom who would bow the knee to King Ironheart. From that day, the\nreign of cruelty began. King Ironheart bade his army drive the men to\nthe mines beneath the earth, and when this was done, he rewarded his\ngenerals and soldiers with the palaces and houses of the Westland\npeople. Driven thus from their homes, there was nothing left for the\nwomen and children but to seek shelter where they could find it. Some\nlived in wretched huts; others toiled at cutting logs to build rude\ncabins, and all were forced to work like slaves. King Ironheart meant to\npunish the Westland Kingdom and spared no one.\n\nThough the castle of this cruel king lay but a short distance from the\nentrance of the Westland Kingdom, the road that stretched between was\nfilled with such sadness and sorrow that it was many a day before the\nprincess stood at its gates. Little children struggled with heavy\nburdens, and when she had helped these, other little children with heavy\nburdens passed sadly down the same road. Women toiled unceasingly in the\nforest or drove the plow from dawn until dark; King Ironheart's soldiers\nsaw to it that none idled. Yvonne had no coins to buy bread, and again\nshe was forced to beg from door to door, but so willingly did she help\nthose who labored that the sad-faced women were glad to share with her\ntheir scant store. A Westland woman, noting the slippers of bark, asked\nher who she might be and from whence she came; to which the princess\nmade the following reply:\n\n\"In my country I am called Yvonne, the Beggar Princess. My father cast\nme off portionless because I would not wed to please him; and I seek the\ntyrant Ironheart, to beg him quit the Westland Kingdom and to free from\nhis dungeon Prince Godfrey, whom I love with all my heart.\"\n\nWhen the Westland women heard her reply, they marveled at her courage,\nbut shook their heads and advised her to give up her quest.\n\n\"You seek to move with pity one whose heart is cold as his name would\nsay!\" they cried. \"King Ironheart laughs at mothers' tears and takes\npleasure in the wails of hungry children; return to your home, Oh\nYvonne, or this wicked king will enslave you with this sad land.\"\n\n\"That I will not do,\" replied the princess firmly. \"With courage and a\ngood heart, I have come hither to beg mercy of King Ironheart. If I\nfail, I fail, and here in bondage I shall remain with you who mourn\nPrince Godfrey, for he is lord of my heart.\"\n\nThe princess delayed her errand no longer, but rose with the dawn the\nfollowing day and was waiting early at the castle gates. On being\nquestioned by the soldiers, she said she had come to seek King\nIronheart. They asked who she was, and she answered them truthfully that\nshe was Yvonne, the Beggar Princess.\n\n\"A Beggar Princess!\" exclaimed the soldiers in derision. \"Who ever\nbefore heard of a princess without gold?\"\n\n\"This gold I have about me,\" replied the princess, and she unbound her\ngolden hair. In the morning sun it shone brilliantly and dazzled the\neyes of King Ironheart, who leaned from his balcony to learn the cause\nof the sudden bright light. He saw the princess standing at the gate and\ncommanded that she be brought before him.\n\nAs she entered the throne room, though she had not feared her father's\nwrath and was not afraid to walk alone at midnight in the forest, the\nprincess was seized with a sudden fear that left her almost speechless.\nIt was not that King Ironheart was hideous as monsters are often\nhideous, nor was he misshapen; but beneath his smile there lurked such\ncruelty and malice that she feared her cause was lost before she had\nbegun to plead it. The thought of Godfrey lying in his dungeon stirred\nher, and she asked leave of his majesty to sing. King Ironheart was\npleased with her request and graciously ordered his chief harpist to\nplay the airs for Yvonne. At the end of the entertainment, the king's\nservants brought handsome robes and gifts of gold for the singer whom\nthe king mistook for some peasant maiden.\n\nThe princess refused his gifts with dignity.\n\n\"My lord,\" said she, \"I may not receive gifts from you, for my rank is\nequal to your own. I am Yvonne, the Beggar Princess.\"\n\n\"Then so much the better,\" replied the king in a hearty tone. \"I have\nlong wished for a princess whom my heart could love, and who would not\nfall a-trembling at the very sight of me. We shall be married at once,\nand I will make war on your sisters this very day, to recover the\nmarriage portion which is yours by all rights.\" He sent then for the\ncoronation robes and the crown of pearls, but again the princess waved\naway the bearer of his gifts. With her singing, courage had returned,\nand she now faced the tyrant king bravely.\n\n\"My lord,\" said she, \"I have come hither not to wed you, but to beg you\nto leave the Westland Kingdom, for the people suffer greatly because of\nyour harsh rule; and to implore you to free from his dungeon Prince\nGodfrey, whom I love with all my heart.\"\n\nKing Ironheart was amazed that she should dare to oppose his wishes, but\nsecretly he admired her courage and fearless spirit and determined to\nwin her for himself. He promised her great riches and vowed to make her\nthe most powerful queen in all the world, but Yvonne was firm. When he\nsaw it was useless to urge her, King Ironheart grew angry.\n\n\"And what powerful weapon or armed force do you bring against me that I\nshould thus do your bidding, O Yvonne, Beggar Princess?\" he asked at\nlength in sneering tones.\n\n\"None but courage and a good heart, my lord, and those can work\nmiracles,\" replied the princess.\n\n\"Then,\" said King Ironheart, \"if by miracles you hope to accomplish\nyour quest, perform to my liking the task I now set for you, and when it\nis finished I shall leave this kingdom and free Godfrey from his\ndungeon.\"\n\nHe called a servant and directed him to bring from the pantry a handful\nof corn, and when it was brought he gave it to the princess.\n\n\"When it is spring, plant these kernels, and in harvest time, if from\nyour planting I do not gather corn to fill to the overflowing every\ngranary in the Westland Kingdom, I will enslave you with the rest of\nthis land, and Prince Godfrey shall remain in his dungeon until death\ncome to free him. Now go,\" commanded King Ironheart, \"and return no more\nuntil your task be done.\"\n\nThe women who awaited the princess in the market place sighed when they\nlearned the task King Ironheart had set. From one scant handful of corn\nto fill every granary in the Westland Kingdom! It was impossible. Even\nYvonne found it hard to keep a good heart with the thought of the task\nbefore her. If she failed, Prince Godfrey would remain forever in his\ndungeon, and yet from one handful of corn how should she reap a harvest\nfor a nation?\n\nShe tied the corn in a kerchief and carried it next her heart lest some\nof the precious grains should slip away. Each night she counted them,\nand each night she rejoiced to find she had still one hundred, the exact\nnumber King Ironheart had given her. From her work at the farm, the\nprincess knew well the labor of the fields and dairy, so she toiled the\nwinter through with the other women. One evening, as she sat in the\nmoonlight counting her precious grains, she heard voices near by, but a\nhedge hid the speakers.\n\n\"Ah,\" said the first voice sadly, \"that one hundred provinces, the\nfairest this side of Paradise, should be so crushed beneath this cruel\nKing Ironheart! I would that he were driven away, and that the good\nPrince Godfrey would return to his own once again.\"\n\n\"Have patience,\" answered a second voice which was exceedingly sweet and\ngentle. \"Know that for the space of the winter months the Princess\nYvonne hath carried next her heart one hundred grains of corn from which\nthe cruel Ironheart hath commanded her to reap a harvest for the\nnation. Now such is the power of a good heart that when she hath planted\nthese grains, there will spring from them such a harvest as never before\nwas gathered in any country. Then, according to his promise, King\nIronheart will free Prince Godfrey and quit the Westland Kingdom\nforever.\"\n\nThe voices ceased suddenly as they had begun, but on looking over the\nhedge, the princess could see no one. She treasured the words she had\nheard, and with a song in her heart, waited until the winter should be\ngone. When spring was come at last, she traveled with it through the\nWestland Kingdom and planted a single grain in the center of each\nprovince, until her kerchief was empty. It seemed that the land itself\nwas weary of the cruel Ironheart and longed once more for peace and\nhappiness, for such a supply of corn was never known in the Westland\nKingdom. In autumn, when it was gathered into the granaries, there was\nmore than they could hold, and the king's servants built storehouses to\ncontain the surplus. Then the princess went to King Ironheart to tell\nhim that her task was done. He had heard of the wonder from his\nministers and had waiting for her another task. The first he now\ndeclared had been but child's play, and he vowed to free Prince Godfrey\nwhen she should accomplish the second.\n\n\"But, my lord, how can I believe you?\" cried the princess in dismay.\n\"Even should I accomplish the second task, when it is done will you not\nset for me another and another, and so on until the end of time?\"\n\n\"Never fear, Yvonne, Beggar Princess,\" replied King Ironheart with his\ncruel smile. \"This time I will keep my word right gladly. Though I set\nGodfrey free a thousand times, he will never marry you, for should you\naccomplish this second task, you will be the ugliest woman in all the\nworld. Think twice before you set about it,\" he warned. \"If you fail,\nyou will be enslaved for the rest of your life; and if you succeed, you\nwill be hideous.\n\n\"Now you had best marry me and give up this silly thing you call true\nlove. It hath brought you naught but tears and sorrow in the past and\nwill bring you no better in the future.\" He smiled and looked\ngraciously at Yvonne, but she was unmoved.\n\n\"Because I loved Prince Godfrey, I defied my father and became the\nBeggar Princess, Yvonne,\" she answered scornfully, \"and because I loved\nPrince Godfrey, I came to his land to beg his freedom of you who hold\nhim in cruel captivity. How then should I wed you? Tell me what it is\nthat you would have me do; I care not whether I return from my task the\nugliest woman in all the world!\"\n\n\"Then listen well to what I say,\" replied the king, \"for I shall not\ntell you twice. My kingdom, which lies just beyond the borders of the\nWestland Kingdom, is naught but a great desert plain. There are on this\nplain neither rivers nor springs, but instead the wind blows the sand in\nclouds above it all day long, and nothing will grow in such a place.\n\n\"Seek this plain, and when you have found it, cause springs and rivers\nto water it, the better to nourish a forest which you must plant there\nto please me. In the heart of this forest build for me a splendid\npalace, the outer walls of whitest marble and the inner walls of purest\ngold. Thousands of red roses must climb to the towers of the palace.\nWhen you have done thus much, trouble not yourself to furnish it for me,\nbut return to me, and I promise that I shall betake myself and my court\nto my own kingdom and quit this land forever and ever. I am weary of a\npeople who smile never but weep from sun to sun for their absent lord.\"\n\n\"But Prince Godfrey; what of him?\" asked the princess.\n\n\"Ah,\" laughed King Ironheart, \"I shall tell you also the secret charm\nthat will cause his chains to fall from him and his dungeon doors to\nopen wide.\" He bade the princess farewell, and his smile was more cruel\nthan she had yet seen it. Nevertheless she departed from his presence\nfull of courage.\n\nThe women were again waiting her in the market place, and when they\nheard the second task, they despaired of seeing again their rightful\nlord and sadly resigned themselves to their fate. They followed the\nprincess to the gates of the kingdom, and as she was about to depart, an\nold wise woman gave her a bag, saying:\n\n\"Within this bag are pine cones and acorns of marvelous power. When you\nhave caused the first springs to water the desert plain, at nightfall\ndip these into the waters, plant them and by morning a forest of oak and\npine will spring from them.\"\n\nThe princess took the bag and thanked the wise woman. Strange to say,\nshe was hopeful about her task.\n\n\"Who can tell?\" thought she. \"One task that seemed at first impossible I\nhave already finished.\" So she sang cheerfully as she went her way. In\nher mind she pictured the delight and joy of Prince Godfrey when she\nshould go again to the mill in the forest to tell him that he was free.\nFor three days and three nights she traveled, and on the morning of the\nfourth day she reached the great desert plain. It was even more desolate\nthan King Ironheart had said. Great stretches of burning hot sands\nspread far and wide, and the sky, where it bent down at the horizon,\nseemed copper-colored. The blazing sun beat fiercely over all, and there\nwas neither bush nor tree for shade. When the sun set, darkness came\nswiftly and without the gray softening shades of twilight.\n\nThe princess sat sadly and watched the stars come out. In the deep blue\nsky above the desert they shone like gold.\n\n\"Their happy gleaming seems to mock the heart of one as sad as I,\"\nsighed she. Now that she was upon the desert plain she wondered how or\nwhere she was to begin King Ironheart's task.\n\n\"The gleaming stars mock no one,\" said a voice close beside her, \"but\ninstead they shine brightly to cheer all those who sorrow.\"\n\nThe princess turned to see the speaker, but she was alone on the plain.\n\n\"I am the Spirit you heard by the hedge one moonlight night,\" spoke the\nvoice again. \"Do you remember?\"\n\n\"I remember well,\" replied Yvonne, \"and oh, Spirit, had the cruel\nIronheart kept his promise, Godfrey would even now be free of his\ndungeon; but alas! The wicked king hath set me still another task.\"\n\n\"It is to help you with that task that I have come,\" said the Spirit.\n\"Each night when the stars begin to shine in the heavens, expect me,\nuntil your task be done; and now to begin as the king commanded, I must\nhave the blue from your eyes to make the rivers and lakes.\"\n\n\"The blue from my eyes!\" cried the princess in dismay. \"Truly the cruel\nIronheart hath said it rightly. I shall be the ugliest woman alive! But\nit is to free my beloved Godfrey, so take it, Spirit!\" She felt a\nmovement of the air close beside her and an invisible hand was drawn\nacross her eyelids. At the same moment she heard the singing of a brook\nnear by and in the distance the roaring of a waterfall.\n\nRemembering the wise woman's advice, Yvonne dipped the acorns and pine\ncones in the brook and planted them in the desert sand before she slept.\nIn the morning she awoke in a wilderness of forest, and the plain, no\nlonger barren and desolate, was alive with birds that sang, and wild\ndeer that ran among the trees. The princess sought the heart of this\nforest, and there when night had come she awaited the Spirit. When the\nstars began to shine, it came as it had promised.\n\n\"The outer walls of the palace must be of whitest marble,\" said the\nSpirit, \"and for that I must have the whiteness of your neck and\nthroat.\" Though the princess shuddered, she consented, and the invisible\nhand was passed over her neck and throat. No sooner had it done so than\nin the open space among the trees she could see the outlines of a great\nbuilding whose walls gleamed in the moonlight.\n\n\"And now,\" continued the Spirit, \"if you have no wish to wander through\nthis forest of oak and pine, but long instead to have done with your\ntask, give me at once the gold of your hair and the red from your lips,\nthat I may finish the inner walls of the palace and cause thousands of\nred roses to climb to the towers.\"\n\n\"The sooner I finish my task, the sooner will King Ironheart free\nGodfrey from his dungeon,\" replied the princess. \"While he lies in\nchains, the red of my lips and the gold of my hair bring me no pleasure;\nso take them quickly, Spirit.\" The same hand was passed over her hair\nand her lips and the Spirit spoke again.\n\n\"Now look at the palace to see that it is all King Ironheart desired,\"\nit said. \"Then when you are satisfied we shall start at once to tell him\nthat your task is done. I shall remain with you to cheer you until you\ngo again to the mill in the forest.\"\n\nYvonne did as the Spirit bid. She found the palace of great splendor,\nand myriads of red roses blossomed over its white marble walls. Within\nall was bright as day; the golden walls glittered like a thousand suns.\n\n\"Even the tyrant Ironheart could ask no more,\" said she. \"Lead the way,\nSpirit, and I shall tell him that I have finished my task.\"\n\nTraveling by a short road known only to the Spirit, the princess reached\nthe Westland Kingdom the next day, and was on her way to the castle when\nthe women went down to the fields to work. They regarded Yvonne as one\nthey had never seen before, and she was puzzled for the reason.\n\n\"Alas!\" cried the Spirit sadly. \"You are fair of face no longer, Yvonne.\nThey do not know that they have ever seen you before.\" Then straight\npast the guards and into the presence of King Ironheart the Spirit led\nher.\n\nKing Ironheart cried out in fury as the princess entered the throne\nroom. \"Old crone!\" he exclaimed. \"How dare you to come into my\npresence? Do you not know I cannot abide old age or ugliness? You shall\nbe punished.\"\n\n\"Old age,\" echoed the princess. \"I am not old. I am Yvonne, the Beggar\nPrincess, whom you bid turn the desert plain into a wilderness of forest\nand build therein a splendid palace for you.\"\n\nThen the cruel king laughed heartily. \"Never,\" cried he, \"have I been so\ndiverted. Go at once to the mill in the forest where the sun rises, O\nYvonne, Beggar Princess, and at the very sight of you the walls will\nfall. Tell Prince Godfrey that I have departed his land and have betaken\nmyself and soldiers to the splendid palace which you so kindly built for\nme. However, let me first reward you with this gift.\" Before the\nprincess was aware, he had flashed a mirror before her face.\n\nYvonne gazed spell-bound as she beheld her changed image.\n\n\"Oh!\" cried she, \"you are more cruel than I had even supposed. But for\nyou I had never known how hideous I have become. Truly I am the ugliest\nwoman in all the world!\" She wept and covered her face that she might\nlook no more in the mirror which King Ironheart continued to hold\nbefore her gaze. The Spirit, with pitying words, led her from the castle\nand tried to comfort her; but at the sight of her changed image,\nYvonne's courage had fled. Even when the glad shouts of the Westland\npeople told her that Ironheart was departing the kingdom, she did not\nsmile. She wept all the way as she journeyed sadly to the forest where\nthe sun rose. She now longed only to free Godfrey and then to die.\n\n\"For,\" thought she, \"though he be gallant enough to wed me in pity for\nmy hideous countenance, I love him too dearly, and I could not bear that\nall the world should look with loathing on his queen.\"\n\nLate one night the princess entered the forest where she had gone so\noften to seek the herds, and at midnight she stood before the mill. It\nwas dark and dreary looking as ever, and no sign nor sound of life could\nbe seen about it. Standing close to the window-like opening she began to\nsing:\n\n  \"Prince Godfrey, my beloved,\n  I have come to set you free.\n  The wicked Ironheart hath at last departed your land\n  And the Westland people await your return with all joy.\"\n\nShe heard his voice from the dungeon beneath and listened eagerly for\nhis reply.\n\n\"Oh, Yvonne,\" cried Prince Godfrey, \"your voice is sad when it should be\nglad. For even now my chains have fallen from me and I am hastening to\nthe door of my prison unhindered.\" The mill sank into the ground, and\nYvonne trembled with joy as she saw Prince Godfrey coming toward her. He\npassed her without a glance and then returned to ask eagerly:\n\n\"Old crone, hast seen aught of a beautiful princess who sang from this\nspot not a moment since?\"\n\nYvonne, seeing that he knew her not, pointed silently down a path, and\naway sped Godfrey. Then away sped Yvonne down another path and ran until\nshe found a hollow tree. There she crept in and laid her down to sleep.\n\"Though Godfrey search the whole night, he can never find me here,\" said\nYvonne to herself. \"Then in the morning I shall go to the farmer's wife\nand herd cows once again. None will be there to mock my ugly features,\nand since my beloved prince is freed at last, I am content.\" But though\nshe spoke so to herself, it would seem otherwise, for Yvonne wept\nbitterly until at last she fell fast asleep.\n\nMeanwhile Prince Godfrey shouted her name and searched the forest in\nvain. At last he sat to rest and a voice beside him spoke.\n\n\"You seek Yvonne, the Beggar Princess,\" said the voice. \"I can take you\nto her if you so wish.\"\n\n\"But I see no one!\" cried Godfrey in amazement. \"Who is it that knows my\nsecret thoughts thus?\"\n\n\"I am the Spirit with which Yvonne set out to rid your land of the\ntyrant Ironheart, and with which she gave her beauty that you might be\nfreed of your prison. The old crone whom you passed in this forest was\nnone other than Yvonne.\" Then the Spirit recounted the tale of the\ntrials and sufferings that Yvonne had borne. Godfrey listened with\ndismay.\n\n\"And now,\" concluded the Spirit, \"fearing that you would feel bound to\nwed her in spite of her changed face and hideous features, Yvonne has\nhidden herself in the hollow of a tree not far from this spot. Shall I\nlead you thither, Godfrey, or will you journey to the Westland Kingdom\nalone?\"\n\n\"Ah, Spirit!\" cried Godfrey sadly, \"I would have died within my dungeon\nrather than gain my freedom at such price. However, what is done is\ndone, and no regret or vain repining may undo it. So lead me quickly,\nSpirit, that I may tell Yvonne how I do honor and love her for her noble\nheart and courage.\"\n\nNow the Spirit was pleased that Godfrey should speak so. Then, because\nit was a good spirit, and had no wish to see folk sad or unhappy, it\nresolved that these two mortals had suffered trials sufficient. So while\nthe Spirit guided Godfrey through the shadowy aisles of dusky cedars, it\ncaused the earth to tremble mightily three times. Great crashes like\nthose of thunder accompanied each tremor; Yvonne fled frightened from\nher hiding place and found herself face to face with Godfrey. At the\nsight of his beloved one, Godfrey knew no fears and cried out in delight\nand joy.\n\n\"Oh, Yvonne! The Spirit did but try me,\" he exclaimed. \"Thou art thrice\nas lovely as the dawn itself which now appears in yonder sky!\"\n\nBut Yvonne would not heed his words, and covered her face with her\nhands. Weeping and lamenting, she begged him to leave her. \"Pray do not\nmock me, Godfrey,\" she cried, \"I cannot bear that you should see my\nface. Indeed I am become the ugliest woman in all the world. Let me go,\nas you love me. But for my fright at the violent trembling of the earth\nI had remained safe hidden until you had departed for the Westland\nKingdom.\"\n\n\"Then but for the violent trembling of the earth, I had lost you\nforever!\" cried Godfrey. \"So I bless the one who sent the earthquake.\"\n\n\"Then you bless me and I am free at last to fly to paradise,\" said the\nSpirit. \"I caused the earth to tremble. I wished the tyrant Ironheart to\ncumber it no more. At the first tremor, in the forest of oak and pine,\nthe ground opened wide in a great chasm. At the second tremor, the\nforest as well as the palace of King Ironheart were swallowed up in this\ngreat chasm. At the third tremor, the chasm closed itself and there now\nis nothing in that spot but a hot arid desert plain where the wind blows\nthe sands about in clouds the whole day long.\"\n\n\"Then King Ironheart is no more?\" asked Prince Godfrey.\n\n\"King Ironheart and all his wicked followers lie deep beneath this arid\ndesert plain of which I tell,\" declared the Spirit. \"And now, Yvonne, to\nset your mind at rest gaze into the pool at your feet.\"\n\nYvonne gazed downward and there beheld an image, so beautiful that she\nturned to see the fair maiden whom she fancied had peeped over her\nshoulder. The image of Godfrey smiling beside her assured her at last\nthat it was her own face she saw, and Yvonne's joy knew no bounds.\n\n\"Oh, Spirit!\" she cried. \"You have done many kind things for me, but\nthis gift of beauty thou hast given me surpasses all! I am the happiest\nwoman alive, for now I know I am worthy to be Godfrey's queen.\"\n\n\"I did but give you what was yours, Yvonne,\" returned the Spirit, \"and\nnow farewell, for soon the sun will rise and I am off to paradise.\"\n\n\"But, Spirit, will you not come with us to the Westland Kingdom?\" begged\nYvonne. \"What shall we do without you to help us with our trials? Pray\nstay.\"\n\n\"Nay, Yvonne,\" replied the Spirit. \"Continue in the way you have begun;\nremember always, courage and a good heart can work miracles and there\nwill be no need of me. Farewell!\"\n\n\"Farewell, farewell, Spirit!\" called Godfrey and Yvonne together. Then\nas the sun rose from the clouds they heard an answering echo of\nfarewell. So singing for joy, hand in hand, Prince Godfrey and Yvonne\nthe Beggar Princess followed the sun on his journey to the Westland\nKingdom, where they lived forever after, and where to this very day 'tis\nsaid by some that their descendants reign.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nSWEEP AND LITTLE SWEEP\n\n\nI\n\nOnce upon a time, in days long ago, there lived a Chimney Sweep and a\nlittle Crossing Sweeper. This Chimney Sweep was called \"Sweep.\" He had a\nvery black face, from the soot he swept down tall chimneys, but he had a\nkind heart and dearly loved this little Crossing Sweeper, whose name was\nLittle Sweep. Little Sweep had a grimy, gray face from the ashes she\nthrew on her muddy crossings, and as for her heart,--I suppose it was\nkind. Sweep thought it kind, and Little Sweep vowed she loved Sweep\ntenderly.\n\nNow Sweep was his own master and owned a smart little donkey cart, all\nfilled with brooms and brushes; but Little Sweep had a dreadful master,\nwho beat her often and gave her scarcely enough to eat. Sweep lived in\na snug little garret, and Little Sweep lived in a cold bare attic just\nacross the way. The street was so narrow that the two could chat quite\neasily with one another. On holidays, when Sweep, so black and sooty,\nand Little Sweep, so gray and grimy, rode forth in the smart little\ndonkey cart, the people all stared and vowed it was seldom one could see\na couple so well matched.\n\nEvery morning Little Sweep was out with her broom, before the sun was\nup. Her master would beat her if she dared lie late abed. Now Sweep had\nno need to rise so early. His trade of sweeping down tall chimneys did\nnot begin until later in the day. Nevertheless this amiable fellow\nbought himself a clock with a loud ringing bell, and when this clock\nrang out at five each morning, he would throw bread and buns to Little\nSweep just over the way. Little Sweep would eat the bread and buns most\neagerly, for she was always very hungry. Sweep bought her red mittens to\nwarm her poor hands, and wept when he learned that her cruel master had\ntaken them from her and sold them.\n\n\"Ah, Little Sweep,\" he would say, \"when my golden dollars fill the\nstocking, we shall be married, and you will sweep crossings no longer.\nInstead, you will sit at home in a neat little cottage and brew me soups\nand make strong soaps to wash my black face. Then on holidays we shall\nboth ride forth, all clean and shining.\"\n\n\"Oh, please hurry then, and sweep ever so many chimneys, that the\nstocking may very soon fill with golden dollars!\" Little Sweep would\nreply. \"My master grows crosser every day, and I cannot bear my life.\"\n\n\"But you forget me,\" answered Sweep. \"Is not my garret window just\nacross from yours, and do I not throw you bread and buns each day?\"\n\n\"Indeed, if it were not for your bread and buns, I know that I would\ndie,\" declared Little Sweep. \"My master does not give me food enough to\nfeed a robin.\"\n\n\"And I would buy you more bread and buns,\" sighed Sweep, \"except that\nbread and buns cost pennies, and if I spend too many pennies, the\nstocking will never fill with golden dollars.\"\n\nNow in those olden days, as no doubt you know, kings and queens and\nnoble folk stored all their gold in great carved chests of oak and\nwalnut; but humble folk like Sweep hid their savings in a stocking.\n\nOne day when Sweep swept down the chimneys of a rich baker, the rich\nbaker gave him seven tarts and a plum cake, for a present. You may be\nsure that Little Sweep enjoyed a feast that night. Her cruel master had\ngone off for the day and had locked her in her room with only bread and\nwater. When Sweep learned that, his kindly heart was touched; he gave\nLittle Sweep the whole plum cake and kept but one tart for himself. That\nwas the manner of man Sweep was. Everything for Little Sweep and nothing\nfor himself. When he swept tall chimneys in the shops of merchants,\nSweep would buy some bits of linen or some ends of lace for Little\nSweep. These Little Sweep would fashion into curtains and tidies for the\nlittle cottage of their dreams.\n\nNow it is a curious thing to tell, but nevertheless quite true, that\nthough Sweep's stocking filled at last, and there were even two golden\ndollars more than it could hold, still Little Sweep lived in her cold\nbare attic. And still her master beat her. The reason of it all was\nthis. Sweep and Little Sweep could not agree upon a cottage. Sweep\nwished a cottage with many chimneys, in order that he might work at his\ntrade. Little Sweep, on the other hand, who hated ashes and everything\nto do with chimneys, wished for a house with all glass doors and windows\nand no chimneys at all! Plainly the cottage to suit these two could not\nbe found. Then Sweep decided on a sage plan.\n\n\"Now do you be content with a house of fewer glass doors and windows,\nLittle Sweep,\" said he, \"and likewise I shall content myself with fewer\nchimneys.\" So again they set out, and this time soon found a cottage to\nplease them. Little Sweep swept the crossings before it; Sweep swept\ndown the chimneys. Then at the doors and windows Little Sweep hung up\nthe curtains she had made, and pinned the tidies to the backs of the\nchairs. Sweep bought a ham and a bacon, and likewise a loaf of white\nbread, and behold, they were ready to be married!\n\n  [Illustration: \"Hide me, Little Sweep,\" cried Red Cap.\n  \"My brother is after me.\"--_Page 175._]\n\nSweep was very happy because his darling would sweep no crossings, and\nneither would her cruel master beat her any more. Little Sweep rejoiced\nbecause she did not like her trade; she was sure that she would never\nagain be hungry, for Sweep would buy her all the bread and buns she\ncould desire. Sweep took the two extra golden dollars and spent them\nboth on finery for Little Sweep. He bought her a little gray wedding\nfrock (to match her grimy, gray face, you know), some blue cotton\nstockings, and a red ribbon for her hair. For himself he bought only a\ngay green feather to wear in his hat and a bottle of oil to polish his\nholiday shoes. Always, you will notice, he gave everything to Little\nSweep.\n\nThen the day before their wedding day, some very strange things came to\npass. Little Sweep was standing at her crossing when a tiny little man,\ndressed out in green and wearing a bright red cap, flew through the air\nand perched upon her broomstick.\n\n\"Hide me, Little Sweep,\" cried Red Cap. \"My brother is after me.\"\n\n\"Hide in my pocket,\" replied Little Sweep, and no sooner had the first\nRed Cap crawled into her pocket than a second little creature, larger\nthan the first, flew through the air and perched upon her broomstick.\n\n\"Tell me, Little Sweep,\" cried the second little creature angrily, \"have\nyou seen my brother flying north or east or south or west?\"\n\nNow as Little Sweep had heard that Red Caps often did great things for\nthose who befriended them, she stood silent.\n\n\"Stupid!\" cried the second little creature, when she did not speak. Then\noff he flew as suddenly as he had appeared, and out from Little Sweep's\npocket crawled the first Red Cap.\n\n\"Ugh!\" exclaimed Red Cap, brushing his tiny beard and dusting his green\nsatin suit. \"How comes it that your pocket is so very dusty?\"\n\n\"I must keep ashes in it for my trade of sweeping crossings,\" replied\nLittle Sweep. \"I hate it.\"\n\n\"Then perhaps I might find you a better trade,\" said Red Cap, gazing\nthoughtfully at Little Sweep's gray grimy face and raggedy garments. \"We\nRed Caps, although we be very little folk, be very powerful folk, you\nknow.\"\n\n\"Yes, I have heard that you grant wishes to poor folk sometimes,\"\nreplied Little Sweep; \"is that true?\"\n\n\"It is,\" said Red Cap, nodding gravely. \"Make three wishes now, and I\nwill grant them for you.\"\n\nNow fairy lore is filled with tales of folk who had three wishes given\nthem, and, as you have perhaps remarked, these folk have often wished\ntoo hastily and consequently wished unwisely. The old woman who wished\nfor black puddings is one, and the man who wished his mill to always\ngrind salt is another. And there are scores and scores of these unwise\nfolk that I could name. But Little Sweep was not like one of these. She\nleaned upon her broom and paused some time in deepest thought. At last\nshe spoke.\n\n\"First,\" said she, \"I wish to be a beautiful princess, dressed in robes\nof satin sewn with gold, my face all clean and shining, and on my head a\ncoronet of pearls.\"\n\n\"Second, I wish to dwell within a splendid castle by the sea and have a\nhundred rooms all filled full of gold and treasures, and a thousand\nslaves to do my bidding.\n\n\"Third, I wish my old master to sweep crossings in my place. That is\nall.\"\n\n\"It is enough!\" cried Red Cap in amazement. \"To look at you, who would\never think you would even know enough to wish such powerful wishes! My\nstore of magic power will be quite gone when all you wish is done; but\neven so, I have promised, and we Red Caps always keep our promises. Go\nhome and wait quietly.\"\n\nSo Little Sweep flung down her broom, although it was but two o'clock in\nthe afternoon and she had yet to work until sundown, unless she wished a\nbeating. Her old master was seated in the kitchen, stirring up a bowl of\nporridge, when she entered.\n\n\"Lazy one! Idle one!\" he cried out in anger as she entered. \"Is it thus\nyou leave your work at midday? But I have something to make you lively.\"\nHe seized the rope. But for once in her life Little Sweep was not\nafraid.\n\n\"You had better not,\" said she boldly. The old master heeded her not,\nhowever, and raised the rope to strike. Before it fell, he screamed in\namazement! Little Sweep's rags fell from her suddenly, and she stood\nbefore him, a beautiful princess robed in satin, and on her haughty\nbrow a coronet of pearls.\n\n\"Oh! Oh!\" cried the old master in dismay. \"Had I known you were a\nbeautiful princess in disguise, never, never would I have beaten you;\nneither would I have starved you, you may be sure.\"\n\n\"That makes no difference now,\" replied the haughty princess with\nspirit; \"why did you beat me at all?\" As she spoke, the old master\nscreamed again, this time in wildest terror. His garments changed\nsuddenly to sweeper's rags, and into his hands flew the very broom that\nLittle Sweep had just flung down! In this poor guise the old master fell\nupon his knees and humbly begged a penny of the haughty princess. But\nagain she would not heed him.\n\n\"Out of my way, simpleton!\" she exclaimed. \"Now go and sweep crossings\nin my place, and may your new master beat you even as you beat me!\"\n\nWith that the new master entered the kitchen, and finding there the old\nmaster dressed in sweeper's rags, sent him off with a cuff to go about\nhis work. A coach of pearl with silver trimmings drew up before the\ndoor, and away went the haughty princess to her castle by the sea.\n\nThere, as she had wished, she found a hundred rooms filled full of gold\nand treasures, and likewise found a thousand slaves to do her bidding.\nBut in the midst of all her glory and magnificence, the beautiful\nprincess was greatly worried. Can you think what troubled her? It was\nexactly this. She had not a name suitable for her fine situation.\n\"Little Sweep\" would never do for a beautiful princess, dwelling in a\nsplendid castle by the sea; also she was vexed lest her thousand slaves\nshould perchance learn that she had once swept crossings, and so despise\nher. While she sat thinking thus, and greatly troubled, she heard soft\nchimes sounding through the castle halls. Presently a servant dressed in\ncrimson plush and golden lace entered and bowed low before her.\n\n\"Will the Princess Cendre be pleased to dine?\" asked the servant humbly,\nand so it was that the haughty princess learned her new name. From that\ntime forth she quite forgot that she had ever been called \"Little\nSweep.\"\n\n\"Lead the way, slave,\" she commanded haughtily, \"and the Princess Cendre\nwill follow.\"\n\nThen down to a great dining hall she went. Upon the walls were many\nmirrors, and the table was laid with dishes of beaten gold. The Princess\nCendre (for we may never again call her Little Sweep, unless we wish to\nmake her very angry) gazed with delight at her image reflected in the\nmirrors and ate with greatest satisfaction from the golden dishes. When\nat last the meal was done, musicians played sweet airs for her pleasure.\nPrincess Cendre enjoyed the music, but oh, much more did she enjoy\ngazing about the splendid hall wherein she sat! A thousand tapers made\nall as bright as day; the walls were hung with silken tapestries, and\ncurtains made of lace as fine as cobwebs covered all the windows. It was\nwhile she sat gazing thus that Princess Cendre suddenly bethought her of\nthe little cottage Sweep had furnished for her. Then it came also to her\nmind that to-morrow was her wedding day.\n\n\"Well, to be sure,\" thought she, \"if all these wondrous things had\nnever happened, I would have married Sweep. But now that would never do.\nSweep could not expect it. His black face would ill become my splendid\ncastle by the sea.\"\n\nThe musicians then sang good-night songs, and Princess Cendre sought her\nroom once more. There on a table she found several books with her title,\n\"Princess Cendre,\" stamped in golden letters on the covers. She was more\nthan pleased to see how it was written; she had been wondering how she\nwould even manage to spell this fine new name of hers. Before she slept\nthat night, she took pen and paper and practiced writing \"Princess\nCendre\" a hundred times, that she might do it gracefully forever after.\n(While she had been a wretched little Crossing Sweeper, she had not\nlearned much in books, you know. So it was that she did not know that\n\"Princess Cendre\" meant naught but \"Princess Sweep\" in a foreign\nlanguage.)\n\n\nII\n\nNow we must leave this selfish Princess Cendre sweetly sleeping in her\ncastle by the sea and make our way back to Sweep's snug little garret\nonce again. On the night of this eventful day Sweep returned home from\nhis labors very late. There was no light in the attic just across the\nway, but he was quite content. He thought, of course, his Little Sweep\nwas safely tucked up there. Before he ate his bread and cheese, he\ntossed three sugar cookies in at her window, and then set about\npolishing his shoes and making himself extra smart for the morrow.\nSweep's candle burned very late; but even so, when he lay down to sleep\nat last, he dreamed such dreadful dreams that he was glad when morning\ncame. He dreamed that he had lost his Little Sweep, and that he married\nin her stead her broomstick dressed up in the little gray wedding frock.\nThe clock with the loud ringing bell wakened him at last, and Sweep\ndressed himself in all his holiday attire. Then he called softly to the\nattic just across the way.\n\n\"Wake up, my Little Sweep,\" said he; \"this is your wedding day.\" He\ntossed in a bright red apple, and presently a head was thrust forth from\nthe attic window opposite. Not Little Sweep's, as of course he had\nexpected, but the shocking, tousled head of the old master.\n\n\"Ah, kind Sweep!\" exclaimed the old master, \"I do most greatly thank\nthee for the sugar cookies and the red apple.\"\n\n\"But those sugar cookies and red apple were not for you, old villain!\"\ncried Sweep. \"They were for my darling Little Sweep. Give them to her at\nonce, I say.\"\n\n\"Oh, pray, good Sweep! I cannot give the sugar cookies or the red apple\nto Little Sweep, because I have already eaten them myself; besides, she\nis no longer here, you know,\" replied the old master, and then began to\ntell the tale of wonders he had seen the day before.\n\nSweep listened in amazement. \"Now if I find you have not told me true,\"\ncried he, \"I will surely do you a mischief!\" Then down the stairs he\nsped, and over across the way. There, as the old master had declared,\nSweep found the new master in the kitchen. The new master was a pleasant\nyouth, and of amiable manners. He invited Sweep to stay and eat\nbreakfast with him, but Sweep, as you may suppose, was of no mind to\neat. Instead, he begged for news of Little Sweep.\n\n\"Indeed, I have seen no such person here,\" replied Master Jasper, \"but\nthis I did see, which did most greatly astonish me. Yesterday, as I came\ninto this kitchen, a beautiful princess robed in shining satin swept\npast me, and stepping into a coach of pearl was whirled from sight. That\nold villain yonder began to mumble that this lovely princess had once\nbeen his slave. Of course, I heeded him not, but fetched him a sharp\ncuff on the ear and bade him go about his work.\"\n\nSweep now begged leave to look up in the attic, if the new master would\npermit. Master Jasper gave him leave and led the way himself. Sweep\nfollowed him with lagging tread. He now began to fear that this strange\ntale might be true after all. Sadly he gazed about the cold, bare little\nroom. There in one corner he saw the bright-colored pasteboard box that\nhe had made for Little Sweep's poor treasures, and close by, on a peg,\nhung the little gray wedding frock and the red ribbon he had bought\nher.\n\n\"Alas!\" mourned Sweep, \"it is all my fault! If my heart had not been\nthus so stubbornly set upon a cottage with many chimneys, Little Sweep\nand I would have been married long since, and then, of course, all this\nmagic would never have happened.\" The honest fellow wept bitter tears\nthat left great tracks all down his sooty face and made him look the\nvery picture of woe. Young Master Jasper felt sorry for him. He too had\nlost his love, it seemed, and so he sought to comfort Sweep as best he\ncould.\n\n\"Come, Sweep!\" cried Master Jasper when he had heard. \"All is not yet\nlost. If Little Sweep loved you as dearly as you say, then she will only\nlove you ten times more, now that she is a princess! The thing for you\nto do is this. Go seek until you find the castle or the palace wherein\nshe dwells. Who knows--why, even at this very moment she may be crying\nher eyes out, because it is her wedding day, and yet Sweep has not\ncome!\"\n\nThese words cheered Sweep. His spirits rose, and so he dried his tears\nat once and then set out to seek the castle where his Little Sweep in\nthe guise of some fair princess might be dwelling. But though he sought\nthe whole day through, he sought in vain. When it was growing late, he\nleft the crowded city streets and ways and found himself among the open\nfields and lanes. Then by and by, at twilight time, Sweep walked beside\nthe borders of the sea. There he sat down to rest, for he was very\nweary. He tossed aside his cap and sighed to think how happy he had been\nbut last night, when he thrust the gay green feather in it. Then he\nbecame aware of a voice speaking to him.\n\n\"I know where Little Sweep is dwelling,\" said the voice, and peering\ndown, Sweep saw a tiny Red Cap perched upon his knee. (It was the very\nRed Cap that had hidden in Little Sweep's pocket the day before.) \"If\nyou wish, I can take you there,\" continued Red Cap in a friendly\nfashion.\n\n\"Ah, Red Cap, if you only would!\" cried Sweep. \"My heart is broken\nbecause I cannot find my darling.\"\n\n\"Then close your eyes and do not open them until I say,\" commanded Red\nCap.\n\nSweep closed his eyes and felt himself a-sailing through the air. He\nsailed so fast that he had scarcely time to draw a breath before he felt\nhimself set down upon the earth once more.\n\n\"Now look about you,\" commanded Red Cap.\n\nSweep obeyed. He found himself within a stately hall of marble; the\nwalls were carved with gold and coral, all in intricate designs, and\nthere, upon a throne of ivory set with gleaming sapphires, was seated\nPrincess Cendre. Her flowing robes of shimmering white seemed made of\nmoonbeams sewn together, so soft and luminous were they. Her hair, black\nas a raven's wing, was bound with ropes of pearls and diamonds. The\nPrincess Cendre sat so still that Sweep at first believed she was some\nlovely carven image he beheld. There was little to make one think of\nLittle Sweep, save that when the Princess Cendre spoke, her voice was\nLittle Sweep's.\n\n\"What brings you hither, Sweep?\" cried Princess Cendre angrily, when she\nbecame aware of him.\n\nSweep was astonished, but answered mildly, even so.\n\n\"Ah, Little Sweep,\" said he, \"now who would think that fine new raiment\nand a face all clean and shining would make this wondrous change in you?\nBut perchance, if you had ever worn the new gray frock I bought you for\nour wedding, I would have known about your beauty.\"\n\n\"My name is Little Sweep no longer, but Princess Cendre, I would have\nyou know,\" she answered coldly. \"And what have I to do with gray wedding\nfrocks, I should like to know?\"\n\n\"Why, Little Sweep,\" began Sweep in great surprise, but she interrupted\nhim.\n\n\"Princess Cendre, if you please!\" cried she.\n\n\"Well, Princess Cendre, then,\" said Sweep. \"Have you forgot that this is\nour wedding day? I thought perhaps you would be grieved as I that we\nwere parted, and so I came hither to marry thee.\"\n\n\"To marry me!\" exclaimed the Princess Cendre in astonishment. \"With your\nblack face, do you suppose that I would marry you? I am the Princess\nCendre, you must not forget. And Sweep, if this be your wedding day, as\nyou say it is, my advice to you is this: Marry the Crossing Sweeper of\nyour choice, and if you cannot find her, choose another. The city is\nfull of such poor wretches; there are two or three at every corner.\"\n\nSweep could scarcely believe that he had heard aright. He had not\ndreamed his Little Sweep would treat him thus. He was surprised and\npained to hear her use so many harsh words all at once. He had not\nthought she knew any. In the old days when she had swept crossings for a\npenny she had always been a gentle little creature.\n\n\"Surely you are joking, just to try me,\" cried poor Sweep. \"If you had\nloved truly, as you did often say, then though you did become empress of\nall the world, you would love me still. My face is no blacker to-day\nthan it was yesterday or the day before that. Do not treat me thus\ncoldly, Little Sweep, or you will break my heart.\"\n\n\"And if you call me by that name again, I will have my servants cast you\nfrom my topmost turret and break your head,\" replied the Princess Cendre\nin a towering rage.\n\n\"When I was naught but a Crossing Sweeper, beaten always and half\nstarved, you gave me bread and buns and bade me love you. To be sure, I\nate the bread and buns because I was hungry. But now that I am become a\nprincess and no longer need your gifts, my heart bids me to marry none\nbut a prince. Moreover, the prince whom I shall wed must be handsome and\ncharming, and his lands and wealth must be greater than my lands and\nwealth, which are very great indeed. So get you gone, now, Sweep. You\nsee how foolish was your errand.\"\n\nPoor Sweep stood gazing silently at the haughty princess, so fair to see\nand yet so hard of heart. Presently Red Cap bade him close his eyes\nagain. Sweep closed his eyes and found himself a-sailing through the\nair, and once again he found himself upon the borders of the sea.\n\n\"Ah, Sweep, I am the cause of all thy misfortune,\" said Red Cap sadly.\n\n\"How so, my little friend?\" asked Sweep.\n\n\"It is this way,\" said Red Cap. \"If I had not vexed my brother\nyesterday, he would not have chased me so fiercely, and I would never\nhave sought shelter in Little Sweep's pocket. Now, if I had not sought\nshelter in Little Sweep's pocket, I would never have given her three\nwishes, and she would never have become the Princess Cendre, but would\nhave married you upon her wedding day.\"\n\n\"But even so, Red Cap,\" sighed Sweep sadly, \"you are not at fault. Had\nLittle Sweep desired, she might have wished me to be something high\nalong with her. But though she has been ungrateful and selfish, too, I\nlove her dearly and cannot bear to say a harsh word of her.\"\n\nRed Cap was surprised at Sweep's gentle speech. He had expected him to\nabuse Little Sweep and say unkind things of the haughty Princess Cendre.\nIn all his dealings with mortals (and he had many, for Red Cap was\nnearly, if not quite, a thousand years of age), he had noticed that\nmortals were prone to speak ill of those who had injured them. \"Without\ndoubt this black-faced Sweep is of noble heart,\" thought Red Cap, \"but I\nshall try him even further.\"\n\nAloud he spoke: \"Now, Sweep,\" said Red Cap, \"I have no more magic of the\nsort that can raise folk to wealth or high rank and noble station; but\nI have still great power to destroy. Say but a word, and in an instant I\nwill destroy the castle by the sea. The Princess Cendre in a flash will\nturn to Little Sweep; the old master will be back in the kitchen, and\nyoung Master Jasper will be in his uncle's house once more. What do you\nsay to this plan?\"\n\n\"To that I must say no,\" said Sweep. \"I think it most unworthy.\"\n\n\"Then, Sweep, since you will have none of my plan, I must be off,\" said\nRed Cap. \"But hark you; although I have not magic power in great store,\nif you desire aid at any time, make but a simple wish, and I will\ninstantly appear to help you. Now farewell!\" he cried, and darted off.\n\n\nIII\n\nPoor Sweep! Now that his Little Sweep had treated him so cruelly, he\nbecame the saddest man that one could ever know. For days and days he\ndid nothing, but would sit with his head in his hands, staring at the\nwall, thinking only of his Little Sweep. Nothing could arouse him, until\nat last Master Jasper stepped across the way and scolded him roundly.\n\n\"Now, Sweep, this will not do!\" cried Master Jasper. \"The bread and\ncakes and pies will burn in the ovens all over the land, if the chimneys\nbe not neatly swept down. Then how the housewives will scold, to be\nsure! Likewise will the merchants say that Sweep is become a lazy\nfellow, who sits idling all day long.\" Master Jasper, it will be seen,\nwas a sensible youth, as well as amiable and agreeable.\n\nSo once again Sweep set out with his smart little donkey cart all filled\nwith brooms and brushes. He found many a housewife angry because he had\ndelayed her spring house-cleaning; but when these angry housewives\nlooked at Sweep's black face, so sad and sorrowful, they had not the\nheart to upbraid him. Now, strange to say, though Sweep was thus so dull\nand disconsolate, his trade of sweeping down tall chimneys thrived as it\nnever had thrived before. He swept tall chimneys in the north of the\nkingdom, and in the south also. Likewise he could often be seen driving\nhis smart little donkey cart to the east or to the west to sweep tall\nchimneys there. The fame of Sweep's skill began to grow; he swept the\nchimneys in the halls of dukes and earls. Indeed, the king and queen\ncommanded Sweep to bring his brooms and brushes and set to work about\nthe palace. Their majesties, it seemed, had been greatly troubled\nbecause the royal kitchen chimney sent the smoke down instead of up and\nmade the royal cooks and maidens sneeze and sputter all day long. So\nskillfully did Sweep deal with this stubborn chimney that ever afterward\nit sent the smoke sky-high, as proper chimneys should. The royal cooks\nand maidens sneezed and sputtered no more, and their royal majesties\nwere grateful as could be. The king with his own hands pinned a royal\ndecoration on Sweep's sooty sleeve. (But if I am to tell the truth, I\nmust tell too that from much soot and grime and dust this royal\ndecoration soon became as black as Sweep's own sooty sleeve and could\nnot be seen unless one looked quite closely.)\n\nNow that his trade was thriving thus excellently and he had no longer\nneed to buy bread and buns for Little Sweep, Sweep's pennies grew to\ngolden dollars very rapidly. The golden dollars in their turn soon\nfilled the second stocking full, and even filled a third before Sweep\nwas well aware of it. But even so, he took no pleasure in his wealth;\nhe sighed instead because he had no longer Little Sweep to share it with\nhim. Then, lest he become a miser hoarding gold and spending it not,\nSweep at last bethought him of a kindly plan. Throughout the kingdom\nthere were thousands and thousands of other little Crossing Sweepers,\ntwo or three at every corner waiting for a penny. These wretches, Sweep\nknew well, were just as poor and miserable as his own Little Sweep had\nbeen in days gone by. According to his kindly plan, Sweep now began to\nchange his store of golden dollars back to pennies once again. Then when\nhe met a little Crossing Sweeper standing broom in hand, Sweep would\nfling a handful of pennies to the little creature. Sometimes he filled\nhis donkey cart with bread and buns and bright red apples to feed these\nlittle Crossing Sweepers, in memory of his own lost Little Sweep. Until\nat last from these good practices Sweep became known as the friend of\nall Crossing Sweepers, and was greatly loved throughout the land.\n\nSo seven years passed by. Meanwhile Sweep and Master Jasper continued\nfriends. Sometimes Sweep stayed to supper in Master Jasper's comfortable\nkitchen; other times Sweep would bid Master Jasper step across and smoke\na pipe or two with him. Then, one evening just at dusk, Sweep returned\nfrom his labors and found young Master Jasper packed and ready for a\njourney.\n\n\"Where are you off?\" asked Sweep, and pointed to a musket flung beside a\nknapsack.\n\n\"Have you not heard the news?\" cried Master Jasper eagerly. \"A whole\nyear since, a savage tribe invaded Yelvaland and carried off as prisoner\nthe young and lovely Empress Yelva. Now as this lovely empress has\nneither father nor husband nor brothers to protect her, and her people\ncry for aid, all youths who long for noble adventure are urged to fight\nbeneath her banners. Come join me, Sweep.\"\n\nBut Sweep shook his head. \"It is not suitable that I should fight for\nEmpress Yelva,\" he replied. \"My black face fits me for naught but my\ntrade of sweeping down tall chimneys.\"\n\n\"But you are wrong, Sweep,\" argued Master Jasper; \"a black face in\nbattle is no great matter. Stout hearts and strong arms are sorely\nneeded. Come, and we shall march and fight together as brothers.\"\n\nAgain Sweep shook his head. \"Indeed, good Master Jasper,\" answered he,\n\"I wish with all my heart that I might fight with thee against this\nsavage tribe and aid the lovely Empress Yelva; but alas! Who, save thee,\nwould care to march and fight beside a black-faced sweep?\"\n\n\"A thousand would! Two thousand would--Nay! ten thousand would be glad\nto march with thee, Sweep!\" exclaimed a shrill small voice beside them.\nOn peering down, Sweep beheld a tiny Red Cap perched upon the poker; it\nwas the same that had befriended him so long ago.\n\n\"Ah, Sweep!\" continued Red Cap briskly, \"I took a fancy to you when we\nfirst met, seven years ago, and had a notion then that I would like to\nknow you better. However, since in all these years you have not wished a\nwish of me, I could not have the joy of your acquaintance. We Red Caps,\"\nhe explained, \"although we be such powerful folk, cannot appear to\nmortals without they wish for us, you know.\"\n\n\"I had not known that,\" answered Sweep politely, \"or I would have wished\nsome simple thing just for the pleasure of a chat with thee. But tell\nme, how is it that you thus appear before me now?\"\n\n\"Have you so soon forgot your wish?\" asked Red Cap. \"Did I not hear you\nwish a moment since to fight beneath the banners of the Empress Yelva?\nIt is to grant that wish that I now come. And mark, since in seven years\nyou have wished no wish of me, my magic now has grown to power\ntremendous. Behold thine army!\"\n\nSweep heard the measured tramp of many feet, and looking through the\ngathering gloom, beheld a line of forms that marched by, four and four,\nand all were singing gayly as they went. At first Sweep could not tell\nwhat manner of soldiers these might be, but presently his eyes became\naccustomed to the dusk, and he perceived that this vast army was\ncomposed of Crossing Sweepers armed with brooms instead of muskets.\nPerched atop of every broomstick he could see a tiny creature similar in\nlooks and dress to the Red Cap perched upon the poker.\n\n\"My brothers and my cousins and likewise all my friends and uncles have\ncome to help thee too, Sweep,\" said Red Cap. \"And thou, good Master\nJasper, throw aside thy musket, for in Sweep's army, muskets and such\nlike will be useless things.\"\n\nGood Master Jasper quickly did as Red Cap had commanded and followed\nafter Sweep. Sweep shouldered his long brush and marched proudly at the\nhead of his strange army. And thus began the journey into Yelvaland.\n\nNow of that journey there is not much to tell. To be sure, whenever it\nwas time for breakfast, dinner, or supper, the Red Caps clapped their\nhands and there appeared a thousand tables spread with all good fare.\nWhen night fell, or when storms arose, the Red Caps likewise caused a\ncity of ten thousand tents to spring up on the plains. The Crossing\nSweepers enjoyed the whole march as a holiday. In all their wretched\nlives before they had not had such good things to eat. Their hollow\ncheeks grew plump and rosy with the winds and sun, and Sweep's heart\nrejoiced to see the happy changes that came upon his friends. At night\nwhen they sat grouped about their campfires, the Crossing Sweepers sang\nsongs loud in praise of Sweep, whom they declared had always been their\nfriend and who now was the cause of their pleasant holiday.\n\nNow while Sweep and his strange army were marching thus toward\nYelvaland, the people there were plunged in deep despair. The savage\ntroops had given their soldiers so many drubbings and such bitter\npunishments in battle that they had quite lost heart. Judge then of\ntheir great joy when they beheld a friendly force marching to their aid.\nBut as this horde drew near, and they perceived what manner of army it\nreally was, their hearts sank again.\n\n\"Alas!\" sighed these discouraged folk of Yelvaland, \"of what avail\nagainst the savage troops will be this ragged rabble that approaches?\"\n\nBut when Sweep's army entered into Yelvaland and began to lay about them\nwith their broomsticks, that was another story. Aided by the magic power\nof the Red Caps, each broomstick fell with the force of fifty giant\nfists and resounded loud as thunder on the mountain tops. The savage\ntroops stood their ground but a short time and then fled in terror\nbefore these strange and powerful weapons which they had never seen\nbefore. (Savages do not sweep their houses, you know, and so they knew\nnothing of the useful broomstick.) Sweep, gallantly leading his vast\narmy, pursued the flying savages and gave them battle all the while. So\ndextrously and well did the little Crossing Sweepers wield their brooms\nthat on the third night, when both armies had agreed to rest, these\nsavage troops rose up and stole off. Over the hills and far away they\nfled and never again were heard or seen from that day to this. The\nglorious part of Sweep's great victory was that he had not lost a single\nfollower in battle!\n\n\"And now to free the young and lovely Empress Yelva,\" said Sweep to Red\nCap, \"and then our work is done.\"\n\n\"In all good time that too will be accomplished,\" answered Red Cap. \"The\nEmpress Yelva lies hidden deep down in a well of her own tears. This\nwell lies close beside the gates of Yelvaland, and so you had best face\nyour army right about and march there.\"\n\nThen once again the Crossing Sweepers shouldered their brooms and\nmarched gayly off to Yelvaland. They reached the gates of the kingdom\njust as the moon was sinking slowly in the sky, and Sweep gave orders\nthat they wait until the dawn to enter.\n\n\"Come with me, Sweep,\" whispered Red Cap; \"the time has come to seek the\nEmpress Yelva,\" and led him to a well within a grove of trees.\n\n\"Now, Sweep, attend me closely,\" warned Red Cap, \"for if you do not as I\nsay, all will be lost. When the moon's last ray will light the waters of\nthis well, plunge down into its depths and bring the Empress Yelva up\nwith you. Lose not a second's time, for if the moonbeam leave the well\nbefore you, the lovely Empress Yelva must forever remain prisoner and\nyourself likewise. Do you think that you are nimble enough to try?\"\n\n\"I know not of my nimbleness, but I will try,\" said Sweep, and plunged\ndown headlong, as a pale moonbeam shone down and silvered the dark\nwaters. Before the winking of an eye, it seemed, he rose again, clasping\nthe Empress Yelva by the hand. The moonbeam tarried long enough for\nSweep to see the lovely maiden he had rescued. Her eyes like two blue\nviolets shone with kindliness, her golden hair fell rippling like a\ncloak about her, and when she spoke her voice was like the chime of\nsilver bells.\n\n\"Ah, sir!\" exclaimed the lovely Empress Yelva. \"Although from your poor\ndress I know that you are naught but a humble Sweep, I honor you for\nyour brave deed, and I shall wed you.\"\n\nAt this poor Sweep was covered with confusion. He had not dreamed the\nlovely Empress Yelva would so much as deign to thank him; had not the\nhaughty Princess Cendre scorned him? But even so his heart still longed\nfor his first love, and knowing nothing better to do, the honest fellow\ntold his sad tale to the empress, as they stood beside the well. She\nlistened closely all the while.\n\n\"You have a noble heart, good Sweep,\" said she when he had done, \"and\nthough you do not choose to wed me, I bear you no malice, but instead\nshall help you win your Little Sweep, who has become the Princess\nCendre.\"\n\n\"Alas, your worship!\" said Sweep sadly, \"that can never be. The\nPrincess Cendre would scorn my black face, no matter what my fame or\nfortune.\"\n\n\"Why as to that, Sweep,\" cried Red Cap, \"have no more concern. The\nEmpress Yelva's tears, it would seem, are magic, for since you have\nplunged down the well, your face is become clean and white as though\n'twere scrubbed a dozen times. You are now a handsome fellow.\"\n\n\"And when I have rewarded you suitably, the Princess Cendre will be more\nthan glad to wed you, rest assured, good Sweep,\" said Empress Yelva.\n\"But now the dawn is here, so let us hasten that I may see my people and\nmy own dear Yelvaland once more.\"\n\nYou may imagine that there was wild rejoicing when Sweep and his vast\nstrange army knocked upon the gates of the kingdom and demanded that\nthey open wide for Empress Yelva. A holiday that lasted seven days was\nset, and there were games and sports and pleasures. The people sang and\ndanced upon the highways, and oxen were roasted whole upon great\nbonfires. Sweep and all the Crossing Sweepers were praised and honored\nthroughout the length and breadth of Yelvaland, and all was merry as\ncould be.\n\nWhen this great holiday was passed, as holidays all do, the business of\nthe court began again. The Empress Yelva ordered that a cottage and a\npiece of ground, as well as two bags filled with gold, be given to each\nCrossing Sweeper in reward for their brave deeds. The Crossing Sweepers\nwere so delighted with their gifts that they never again returned to\ntheir own land but dwelled in Yelvaland for all their days. The Red Caps\nlikewise were so pleased with lovely Empress Yelva and so admired her\nkind heart and sense of gratitude that they decided from that day to\nmake their home among the forests of her realm.\n\n\"And now, Sweep,\" said the Empress Yelva, when all this was done, \"I\nhave not forgot the promise that I made thee.\" Accordingly she made him\nprince. His title was Prince Sweepmore and his domain of Sweepmost was\ntwice as great and twice as rich as was the domain of haughty Princess\nCendre. Sweep now was dressed in crimson velvet. The Empress Yelva from\nher treasure store gave him a golden sword all set with rubies that\nflashed forth flame and fire in the sun. A hundred horses laden all with\nbags of gold and pearls were also given him, as well as a like number of\nservants to attend him. Then once again Sweep set forth to marry\nPrincess Cendre.\n\n\"I grieve to see thee go, good Sweep,\" sighed Empress Yelva as they\nparted, \"but even so I do admire thy faithful heart that bids thee go.\"\n\n\"And I likewise do grieve to go; and I thank thee for thy gifts,\" Sweep\nanswered. He bade young Master Jasper farewell too. Young Master Jasper\nhad fallen deep in love with a noble maiden of the Empress Yelva's court\nand was about to marry her.\n\nA royal messenger had been sent before to tell these tidings to the\nPrincess Cendre. Now, strange to say, though the haughty Princess was\nthus beautiful and wealthy, she was still unwed. To be sure, many\nprinces of small fortunes had sought her hand, but of these the haughty\ncreature would have none. However, her selfish ways had not pleased\nprinces whom she had desired to please, and so it was she sat alone\nwithin her splendid castle by the sea. You may be sure that she\nrejoiced when she learned that Sweep was now a prince with land and\nriches in good store.\n\n\"Ah!\" she exclaimed, \"his face is clean and shining too, I hear, which\nis excellent. I could not tolerate him otherwise; but as it is, I shall\ndelight to wed him.\" And so the haughty princess sent for milliners and\njewelers and for bootmakers and dressmakers too. She bought such silken\nhose and high-heeled shoes as must have cost a fortune, and had her\nwedding dress sewn thick with diamonds. When word was brought that the\nnew prince was come, she donned this sparkling robe and received him\nwith great courtesy.\n\n\"Ah, Sweep!\" cried she, \"although I know full well that Empress Yelva\nhath given thee a fine new title, I love to call thee by the dear old\nname I used to know. Tell me of thy life since last we parted. I have\nheard the Empress Yelva desired to marry thee herself. The forward\ncreature! I blush for her that she should be so bold. She must be very\nplain of face indeed if she must go a-seeking for a husband.\"\n\nTo these sharp words Sweep made reply: \"Indeed, the Empress Yelva is so\nfair of face that neither tongue nor pen can well describe her beauty.\nMoreover, she is so kind of heart and gentle of manner that though she\nwere as plain as plain, I still would think her lovely!\"\n\n\"Indeed!\" returned the haughty Princess Cendre and gazed with\nsatisfaction in her mirror. \"However, it is not to chat about this\nforward creature that you have come hither; it is to wed me. Come, my\nbishops are in readiness; my guests are waiting.\"\n\nNow, when Sweep at last beheld this haughty Princess after seven years\nof longing, he found a curious change had come upon him. He became aware\nthat he no longer loved her, and that her haughty manner and her\nspiteful speech distressed him. At last he saw her as she really was, an\nungrateful, cold-hearted creature who thought of no one but herself.\n(Although Sweep knew it not, the waters of the well had wrought this\nchange in him. You may be sure that Red Cap was aware of it!) So though\nhis heart was grieved to give another pain, Sweep determined to speak\nhis mind quite plainly.\n\n\"Ah, Princess Cendre,\" said he, \"I fear me you must tell your guests\nthat you have changed your mind and bid your bishops go. For since my\nblack face has been changed as though by magic, it would seem my heart\nand mind by magic were changed too. I know now that thou art too cold\nand proud to be my princess; a princess should delight to make folk\nhappy, and that I fear me you would never do.\"\n\nThe Princess Cendre was enraged at this talk. We well know that she had\na dreadful temper when it was aroused, and she chose to rouse it now.\nShe stormed and she scolded; she threatened Sweep and she denounced him;\nbut she could not move his resolution.\n\n\"You have come hither to wed me. This is my wedding day, and you shall\nnot ride away!\" cried she.\n\n\"Nay, but I will,\" returned Sweep. \"Once before I came hither to wed\nthee on thy wedding day, and once before I rode away. And so farewell!\"\n\nAway rode Sweep with all his train, and stopped nor stayed until he\nreached the gates of Yelvaland. A herald told the news of his approach,\nand Empress Yelva with her noble lords and ladies went forth to welcome\nhim. Sweep fell upon his knee and humbly begged the lovely maiden's hand\nin marriage, and Empress Yelva smilingly consented.\n\n\"Indeed, dear Sweep!\" declared the Empress Yelva, \"I had a notion all\nthe while that you would soon return, and had our wedding feast\nprepared!\" (Now could it have been that the Red Caps whispered of the\nmagic change the well of her own tears had caused?)\n\nThen straightway Sweep and Empress Yelva were married. Young Master\nJasper and the noble maiden were married too; it was a double wedding.\nAnother feast was held, so bounteous and so magnificent that all\nprevious feasts seemed poor and mean by comparison. Sports and games\nwere set, and prizes of great value were awarded. Each nobleman received\na bag of diamonds as a gift, each noble lady a rope of pearls. The\ncommon people, one and all, were given each a bag of golden coins that\nthey too might make merry. The lords and dukes danced on the highways\nwith the dairymaids; the Empress Yelva and her ladies trod minuets with\nshepherd lads and farmer boys, and all was merry as a marriage feast\nshould be.\n\nSweep now was Emperor. He wore a robe of purple bordered deep with\nermine, and held a sceptre clustered thick with diamonds when he sat at\ncourt. With Empress Yelva by his side, he now rode forth in a splendid\nchariot of gold and royal enamels. But though he was thus raised to high\nrank and great wealth, Sweep was as amiable and as kind of heart as he\nhad been when he swept down tall chimneys for his living and drove his\ndonkey cart all filled with brooms and brushes. To tell the truth,\nhowever, Sweep had little opportunity to do kind deeds. There were no\npoor folk to be found in Yelvaland. The Empress Yelva governed her realm\ntoo well and wisely for that. Now it happened on one winter's day, when\nall the ground was white, Sweep noticed that the frost hung thick and\nglistened on the branches of the firs and cedars.\n\n\"It seems to me, my dear,\" said Sweep to Empress Yelva, \"that it would\nbe most suitable if we should build some houses for our little friends,\nthe Red Caps, who are dwelling in our forest. I fear me that they\nsuffer greatly from the cold.\"\n\nThe Empress Yelva thought this plan most excellent, and soon the royal\ncarpenters and joiners were set to making tiny little houses. When these\nwere made, the royal painters colored them bright green with bright red\nroofs, which was quite like the costume of the Red Caps, if you will\nremark. The Empress Yelva and her noble lords and ladies then hung these\ntiny houses in the branches of the firs and cedars, and they looked like\nso many brightly colored bird-houses. When the Red Caps flew home that\nnight, they were delighted; they guessed at once for whom these tiny\nhouses were meant. They praised Sweep and complimented him on his kind\nheart and his thoughtful ways.\n\n\"We Red Caps do many kind things for mortals,\" they remarked most sagely\nto each other, \"but it is seldom mortals ever think to do kind things\nfor us. It is quite fitting that Sweep should be Emperor; he hath a\nnoble heart, as sovereigns all should have.\"\n\nIt happened then upon another day, while still the snow lay thick upon\nthe ground, that Princess Cendre and her servants went a-riding through\nthis forest. The haughty princess marked the tiny brightly colored\nhouses, and asked what they might be. A forester near by made answer\nthus:\n\n\"Now if your royal highness please,\" said he, \"Sweep, our good Emperor,\nhath caused these to be made for our little friends, the Red Caps. They\nsuffered greatly with the cold, he thought.\"\n\n\"Indeed!\" exclaimed the Princess Cendre. \"Then your little friends, the\nRed Caps, must suffer from the cold again, I fear. I have taken a great\nfancy to these pretty toys and mean to hang them in my own forests, that\nmy goldfinches and nightingales may dwell therein in winter, instead of\nflying to the southland.\" She then desired her servants to cut down the\ntiny, brightly colored houses and rode off, little thinking of the\nmischief she had done.\n\nThat night, when the Red Caps flew home, they were agitated and buzzed\nabout like so many angry little bees. They missed their tiny comfortable\nhouses and shivered with the cold. They knew, of course, who had done\nthis. They knew all things--these Red Caps of the olden days.\n\n\"Now this haughty Princess Cendre is impossible!\" they declared most\nwrathfully. \"She cares not though we freeze to death; although we have\ndone noble things for her, she has quite forgot them. She has been\nprincess long enough!\" they cried. \"Let her be Little Sweep again,\" and\nthey clapped their hands in anger.\n\nThen in that instant vanished the splendid castle by the sea, and\nPrincess Cendre's robes of satin fell from her. She found herself\ndressed out in sweeper's rags, and once more, broom in hand, standing on\nher corner. The old master, back within his comfortable kitchen again,\nwas disposed to treat her no better than he had before; and so, for all\nher days, Little Sweep was forced to dwell within her cold, bare attic.\nBut there was no kind Sweep to toss her bread and buns each day nor buy\nher bright red apples or plum cake.\n\nSweep, on the other hand, lived long and happily as Emperor. He and the\nlovely Empress Yelva, it is said, were blessed with twenty children, all\nof whom inherited Sweep's noble nature and his kindly heart.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nKINGS AND QUEENS AND PEASANT FOLK\n\n\nOnce upon a time, in a splendid palace on the top of a high hill, there\ndwelled a very old king and his wife, who was likewise a very old queen.\nNow this royal old couple lived in great state and luxury. Their diamond\ncrowns glittered and sparkled like the sunbeams on a summer sea; and\ntheir trailing velvet robes were so thickly embroidered with gold that\nthey stood alone. This very old king and his wife, the very old queen,\nhad a coach of gold and glass drawn by eight white horses in silver\nharness. But with all this splendor and magnificence, this royal old\ncouple were not happy or contented. Indeed they were called Queen Grumpy\nand King Crosspatch, which names were most suitable, for they were\ndiscontented and disagreeable as the day was long.\n\nQueen Grumpy fretted because she had a hundred ladies-in-waiting. She\nsaid they bothered her. King Crosspatch scolded and sulked because Lord\nHigh Chancellor would not permit him to smoke a briarwood pipe. They\nboth declared their diamond crowns gave them a headache, and they were\ntired of their trailing velvet robes. Queen Grumpy and King Crosspatch\nrefused to ride in their royal coach of gold and glass. The eight white\nhorses trotted too swiftly and shook their old bones about. So this very\nold king and this very old queen went afoot; but even so, they\ncomplained and scolded because all the roads about the palace led either\nup a hill or down, and they puffed and panted for breath before their\nwalk was done.\n\nNow often and often at sunset, as they rested on their way up the high\nhill, Queen Grumpy and King Crosspatch looked with longing on a certain\nsnug little cottage down in the valley. Within this snug little cottage\nlived a very old man and his very old wife. They were peasants. There\nwere rows and rows of sunflowers and hollyhocks before this snug little\ncottage and behind, while to the left and right stretched green pastures\nthick with blackberry vines.\n\n\"Ah, my dear!\" King Crosspatch would sigh, as he watched the old man at\nwork. \"How pleasant it must be to live in such a snug little cottage.\nThat old man goes every evening to fetch the cows. How I wish I were\nthat old man!\"\n\n\"Indeed, yes!\" Queen Grumpy would reply with an answering sigh. \"How I\nwish I were that old woman. She goes about from morning until night, so\nbrisk and blithe. She can bake bread and churn butter herself; she is\nnot bothered with a hundred ladies-in-waiting as I am.\"\n\nNow most remarkable to tell, often as Queen Grumpy and King Crosspatch\ngazed thus longingly at the little cottage so snug, and wished\nthemselves the old man and the old woman, the old man and the old woman\ngazed just as longingly on the splendid palace and wished themselves\nKing Crosspatch and Queen Grumpy. For if you will believe me, this old\nman and his old wife were a most discontented couple too!\n\nSo it happened one evening, when Queen Grumpy and King Crosspatch were\nwalking down the hill, they met the old man and his old wife climbing\nup. So while they sat to rest on a stone stile, these four discontented\nold folk fell to talking.\n\n\"Ah!\" exclaimed King Crosspatch to the old man, \"I have often watched\nyou fetch the cows home from pasture in the evening, and what fun it\nseems, to be sure! Then you often go a-berrying too. You should be very\nhappy.\"\n\n\"Indeed, Your Royal Highness, I am not!\" replied the old man with bitter\nfeeling. \"I am tired of fetching cows, and I would like to sit still all\nday with folded hands. I often wish I were you. As for going a-berrying;\nI go only because I am so fond of blackberry pie. There's one for my\nsupper to-night,\" he added, and smacked his lips with relish. And then,\noh, how King Crosspatch envied the old man! King Crosspatch had longed\nto eat blackberry pie all his life, but the court physician would not\npermit such ordinary food on the royal table. So the poor old king had\nnever had even a taste of a blackberry pie.\n\n\"And you too,\" said Queen Grumpy to the old woman, \"you should be very\nhappy. You loop your dress above your red flannel petticoat and trot\nround all day, baking bread and churning butter. You have nothing ever\nto vex or worry you.\"\n\n\"Nothing to vex or worry me!\" repeated the old woman in astonishment.\n\"Why, I am vexed that I must churn my butter, and at this very minute I\nam worried lest the loaves I left baking in the oven may burn before I\nam home again. And indeed, Your Royal Highness, I loop my dress above my\nred flannel petticoat only because I must. A hundred times a day I wish\nI were you and could wear trailing velvet robes sewn thick with gold!\"\n\nNow as these four discontented old folk talked on, a curious plan popped\ninto their heads. They decided to change places. Accordingly, Queen\nGrumpy took the old woman's dress and looped it above the red flannel\npetticoat; the old woman buttoned herself into Queen Grumpy's trailing\nvelvet robes. King Crosspatch put on the old man's battered hat; the old\nman set the sparkling diamond crown above his sunburned brow, and all\nwas done. Then singing and laughing, these four old folk went on their\nseparate ways. All four felt assured that they were really walking on\nthe road to happiness at last, and all were very pleased and jolly in\nconsequence.\n\n  \"Oh, there's no place like a palace,\n  A palace, a palace!\n  Oh, there's no place like a palace\n  Upon a hill so high!\"\n\nsang the old man and his old wife as they climbed up the steep hill.\n\n  \"Oh, there's no place like a cottage,\n  A cottage, a cottage!\n  Oh, there's no place like a cottage\n  Down in a valley green!\"\n\nsang King Crosspatch and Queen Grumpy, and they went trudging down. Then\nwhen they reached the snug little cottage, how pleased they were to be\nsure! Everything was so cozy and comfortable to behold. The kettle on\nthe hearth was boiling, and the loaves in the oven were browning; the\nbird in the cage was singing, and the cat on the cushion was purring.\nThe table was laid with all manner of good things for tea.\n\n\"The blackberry pie! The blackberry pie! My dear, let's have it at\nonce!\" cried King Crosspatch, and went searching through cupboard and\nlarder to find it.\n\n\"Wait just a moment until I have made the tea,\" answered Queen Grumpy,\nbusily bustling about the kitchen. She made the tea, and he found the\nblackberry pie, and then they both sat down to supper. There were ever\nand ever so many good things on the table. There were cold roast fowls\nand quince preserves; there were strawberry tarts and plum as well;\nthere was fresh new butter, and there was thick sweet cream. Queen\nGrumpy and King Crosspatch ate them all and then began to think about\ndessert!\n\n\"Now would you mind, my dear, if I should eat all the blackberry pie\nmyself?\" asked King Crosspatch of Queen Grumpy. \"You see, I have only\nread about blackberry pie in books and have never tasted one in all my\nlife before.\"\n\n\"Not at all, my dear!\" replied Queen Grumpy most amiably. \"I intend to\neat all this ginger cake which I have never seen or tasted before.\" And\nso this royal old couple continued to eat until both larder and cupboard\nwere bare.\n\n\"How fine this little cottage is and how very snug!\" said Queen Grumpy,\nseating herself in a rocker before the blazing logs. She began to knit\non a gray wool sock she found. \"I think we shall be very happy here.\"\n\n\"And I think so too,\" agreed King Crosspatch. \"We have eaten a fine\nsupper in a very few minutes and without any fuss of footmen or\nladies-in-waiting either.\" He found a briarwood pipe and began to doze\npeacefully in deep contentment. Queen Grumpy knitted busily until the\nlogs burned low, when she began to nod and doze also. Then they both\nwent to bed.\n\nBut the beds in the snug little cottage were not of the excellent\nquality of its cold roasted fowls and new butter and jam. The mattresses\nwere rough affairs. They were stuffed here with corn husks and there\nwith straw and yet again with goose feathers, which pricked Queen Grumpy\nand King Crosspatch like so many pins. On these rough husky beds the\nroyal old couple tossed restlessly until morning. They vowed they did\nnot sleep a wink. (Perhaps they had eaten too much blackberry pie and\nginger cake; what do you think about it?) When it was daylight at last,\nKing Crosspatch clapped his hands to call his servants to attend.\n\n\"Ah, my dear!\" said Queen Grumpy, \"have you forgotten that we are no\nlonger royal folk but simple cottagers instead?\"\n\n\"Indeed, I had quite forgotten all about it,\" replied King Crosspatch.\n\"Well, I am glad we are,\" and he began to dress.\n\nTogether they set about making breakfast; but again the breakfast proved\na different matter from supper. You will remember that they had eaten\neverything in the cupboard and larder the night before. There was no\nmilk, for they had forgotten to milk the cow, and neither were there\neggs. They had neglected to search the nests. Moreover, the wood box was\nempty, and the fire was out.\n\n\"Now do you go out and chop some wood for the fire, my dear,\" said Queen\nGrumpy. \"I shall milk the cow. I have always liked to look at pictures\nof milkmaids.\" She took the pail on her arm and went in search of the\nthree-legged stool. Then she seated herself beside Bossy-Cow and began\nto milk. But sad to tell, Bossy-Cow, who herself was rather\ndisagreeable, waited until the pail was nearly filled, and then she\ngave a sudden kick. Such a vicious kick it was, too! It upset the\nmilk-pail, three-legged stool, Queen Grumpy and all, and frightened the\npoor old queen half out of her wits. She began to scream so loudly that\nshe quite frightened King Crosspatch, and the hatchet slipped and\nchopped a bit of his little finger.\n\n\"Oh! Oh! Oh!\" wailed King Crosspatch at the very top of his voice. \"I\nthink this hatchet is bewitched! Oh! Oh! Oh!\" he wept, holding up his\nlittle finger. (It was not much of a cut; just a little scratch; but he\nwas a great crosspatch, you know.) \"Oh, what shall I do? What shall I\ndo?\" he wailed. \"With this terrible cut on my little finger, I can't do\nanything at all!\"\n\n\"There now, there now,\" petted Queen Grumpy soothingly. \"Don't chop any\nmore wood. There are still a few drops of milk left in my pail, and we\nshall drink that and eat bread for our breakfast.\" She led her weeping\nhusband within the snug little cottage, but when she looked in the oven\nshe found another disappointment. Queen Grumpy had forgotten to take\nthe loaves out of the oven the night before, and they were burned to a\ncrisp.\n\n\"Oh, this plagued cottage!\" exclaimed Queen Grumpy, thoroughly vexed.\n\"Everything goes wrong here. I wish I were back in my own palace once\nmore! I would never sigh again to leave it.\"\n\n\"Neither would I,\" agreed King Crosspatch, drying his tears suddenly.\n\"Let's go back!\"\n\nThey made up their minds in an instant, and slamming the door of the\nsnug little cottage, they began to climb the steep hill to their\nsplendid palace. Every step of the way they were in a perfect torment of\nfear lest the old man and the old woman would refuse to change places\nagain.\n\n\"That old woman will never want to give me my trailing velvet robes,\"\nsaid Queen Grumpy, as they sat to rest on the stone stile.\n\n\"And I have been thinking that the old man will fight to keep my diamond\ncrown,\" said King Crosspatch anxiously. But at that very minute they\nheard voices, and behold! around the turn in the road came the old man\nand old woman, hurrying as though an army were after them. The old man\nwas thumping his stick, and the old woman was making angry gestures with\nher hands; and both the old man and the old woman looked very cross and\nill-humored.\n\n\"Ah, here you are!\" exclaimed the old man, stopping short before the\nstone stile. \"Now give me my hat and take back your hateful crown\nwithout any further nonsense! I could not sleep a wink last night,\nbecause it was so heavy on my head. Such a hateful palace too! I never\nsaw the like! I could not smoke my briarwood pipe which I brought along\nfor company, and this morning two villains were like to drown me in a\npool before I was fully awake.\"\n\n\"They did not try to drown you,\" replied King Crosspatch haughtily.\n\"That pool was a bath. Here is your hat; give me my crown.\"\n\n\"You may call it a bath or not, just as you choose,\" declared the old\nman warmly, \"but let those two villains drown you instead of me, is what\nI say! I was never so disappointed in all my life as I was with your\npalace. The royal throne was hard as stone; the royal beds were soft as\ndough; everything was wrong.\"\n\nMeanwhile Queen Grumpy and the old woman were having a time of it.\n\n\"Your cow has no manners,\" complained Queen Grumpy. \"She kicked me, and\nshe spilled the milk. I should behead her if she were mine.\"\n\n\"Would you, indeed?\" asked the old woman scornfully, \"and drink water\nand eat bread without butter all the rest of your life, I suppose? Let\nme tell you, Your Royal Highness, that your servants are lazy and\ngood-for-nothing! I saw dust on the tops of all the doors and windows,\nand the silver flagon was not polished as brightly as my old pewter\npots. Your royal cooks make griddlecakes heavy as lead; you had best\nbehead them instead of my good Bossy-Cow.\" Then she added, \"Did you feed\nmy bird and give him water?\"\n\n\"I could hardly feed myself in that awkward cottage of yours!\" retorted\nQueen Grumpy.\n\n\"Oh, my poor bird!\" exclaimed the old woman. \"Here, hurry and give me\nback my own dress that I may loop it above my red flannel petticoat and\nbe comfortable once more. I suppose you took the bread out of the oven\nin time--did you?\"\n\n\"I forgot it, and it burned,\" sulkily replied Queen Grumpy, buttoning\nherself into her trailing velvet robes.\n\n\"Oh, what stupid folk are kings and queens!\" cried the old woman in a\npassion. \"Come along, husband,\" she called, and down the hill they went.\n\n\"And what stupid folk are cottagers!\" called King Crosspatch after them.\n\"Come along, wife,\" said he, and up the hill they went.\n\nAnd so these four old folk again went on their separate ways. All four\nwere sure that they were walking on the road to happiness at last, and\nso all were very jolly and smiling in consequence.\n\n  \"Oh, there's no place like home!\n  Oh, there's no place like home!\"\n\nsang the old man and his old wife, as they went trudging down to the\nlittle cottage so snug.\n\n  \"Oh, there's no place like home!\n  Oh, there's no place like home!\"\n\nsang Queen Grumpy and King Crosspatch, as they went climbing to their\nsplendid palace on the top of a high hill; and there we will bid them\nall adieu!\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nTHE GOOSE GIRL AND THE BLUE GANDER\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a goose girl who tended her flock in a green\nmeadow. The meadow was dotted with forget-me-nots and yellow buttercups,\nand the sun shone down on it; her geese were fine blue geese and\nuncommonly knowing. She should have been the happiest goose girl in all\nthe world, but she was not. She thought not of the beautiful meadow nor\nof her geese that were a pleasure to tend, for they were so wise and\nalways did her bidding; but instead this goose girl wept every day\nbecause she longed to marry a certain lord who lived in a gray stone\ncastle at the top of a high hill. All day long she sat looking at this\ncastle, and her eyes could see nothing else for admiration of it. She\ndreamed dreams a hundred times a day, in which she married the lord,\nand was cross with her geese because she had to tend them.\n\nNow when the lord of the castle went riding by the green meadow, this\nsilly goose girl would run after the carriage, shouting his name and\nthrowing bouquets of wild flowers to him. But alas! The carriage always\nwhirled by so quickly that the lord heard her not, and the bouquets of\nwild flowers fell in the dust by the roadside. Each time the goose girl\nwept and threw sticks at her geese because she had been disappointed,\nuntil they fled to shelter.\n\n\"It is the stupid coachman's fault,\" said the goose girl to herself one\nday, after she had chased the carriage for a long distance. \"My lord is\nwithin, of course, and cannot hear me, for the windows of glass shut out\nall sound.\" She knew that maidens often wrote letters when they were\nunable to obtain speech with those whom they fancied, and she resolved\nto write to the lord of the gray stone castle.\n\nShe spent her year's earnings on some pink paper with red hearts\nlovingly entwined on the border, and that her letter might be colorful\nand splendid, she bought also some purple ink. Then the goose girl sat\nbefore a flat rock and strove to compose such a letter to the lord that\nhe would stop his carriage the next time he rode by the meadow.\n\n\"The first day he will ask me to ride with him, and the second day he\nwill ask me to wed him,\" thought the goose girl, as she sat gazing at\nthe gray stone castle. \"The third day I shall ride with him a bride to\nyonder castle, where I shall dwell forevermore and have naught to do\nwith geese but to eat them roasted!\"\n\nHer geese, thinking perhaps she had spread on the rock something fine to\neat, crowded about her, but she drove them off. They bothered her, and\nshe wished to give her mind to the letter. One large blue gander\nremained near, in spite of her angry motions and cross words. The goose\ngirl was about to begin her letter when she remembered that she had\nbrought no pen.\n\n\"Ah me! What shall I do?\" she cried. \"I shall have no more earnings for\nanother year, and by that time my lord may be wed to some fair maiden,\nand I will surely die of a broken heart!\" She covered her face and wept\naloud at her misfortune. Suddenly she began to laugh instead.\n\n\"Oh, that I should be so foolish!\" she exclaimed. \"Here waiting my hand\nI have a hundred pens.\" She seized the large blue gander and plucked a\nfine quill from under his wing, but no sooner had she done so than the\nbird began to speak.\n\n\"That is not right,\" declared the gander. \"You have taken what belongs\nnot to you but to me. Put back my quill, or I shall be vexed.\"\n\n\"And who is there to care?\" replied the goose girl rudely. \"When I have\nwritten a letter to my lord of the gray stone castle, you shall have\nyour quill and not before.\"\n\nShe began to speak her thoughts aloud, as goose girls often do, and\nstarted once more to compose the letter. \"To my dearest lord of the gray\nstone castle, whom I love with all my heart, but who whirls past me as I\nsit tending geese in the meadow,\" she planned to write, and dipped the\nquill in the purple ink. To her dismay the pen wrote not at all as she\nplanned, but seemed possessed of a spirit to go of itself. It wrote\nwith a remarkable flourish:\n\n\"Dear gander!\"\n\nBut the goose girl pulled it from the paper before it could write more.\n\n\"What manner of pen is this?\" she cried in vexation.\n\n\"It is not your quill,\" said the blue gander. \"I am its master, and it\nwill write letters to none but me.\"\n\n\"Well, upon my word!\" declared the goose girl. \"You are the most forward\ncreature I have yet seen, and this is what you will get.\" She took a\nlong branch and beat the gander until he hid from sight in the bushes.\nThen again she strove to write her letter, but again the pen was\npossessed of a spirit of mischief.\n\n\"Oh! Oh!\" wept the goose girl, \"I have spent all my earnings on splendid\npink paper with red hearts lovingly entwined on the border, and purple\nink I bought also that my letter might be fine as a valentine. But,\nalas! I am bothered with a stubborn quill that will not write as I\nthink. If I write not my letter to my lord, he will never know of me.\nThen he will never marry me, and I shall dwell forever in my wretched\nhut instead of the gray stone castle, as I have desired.\"\n\n\"You weep because you cannot marry the lord who lives in yonder gray\nstone castle,\" said the blue gander, poking his long neck from the\nbushes where he had fled. \"Let me give you some advice. A wretched hut\nis not a pleasant place, 'tis true, but your manners suit it better than\nthe castle of your dreams.\"\n\n\"Hold your tongue, forward bird!\" screamed the goose girl in anger. She\nseized a clod of earth and hurled it with such force that had it struck\nthe gander, he would have fallen flat in his tracks; but luck was with\nhim, and he dodged.\n\nThe next day and the next day after that the goose girl sat down to\nwrite before the flat rock in the meadow; but the quill was stubborn as\never. She spoiled all but one sheet of the precious pink paper. Then\nonce more the blue gander spoke to the goose girl.\n\n\"You have spoiled many sheets of your precious pink paper,\" said the\ngander, nodding his head and cocking his eye in the wisest sort of way.\n\"Why will you not let the quill write a letter to me,--if only to see\nwhat will happen?\"\n\n  [Illustration: So at last, after much thought, the goose girl did as\n  the blue gander bade.--_Page 237._]\n\n\"But then I shall have no more paper on which to write to my lord, and I\nshall dwell forever in my wretched hut instead of the castle of my\ndreams,\" answered the goose girl.\n\n\"Mayhap there might be a betwixt and between,\" remarked the gander\nsagely. \"Write the letter and hand it to me with a bow.\"\n\nSo at last, after much thought, the goose girl did as the blue gander\nbade. She dipped the quill in the purple ink, and immediately it touched\nthe paper it began to write such a marvelous letter as never before was\nseen or read! It called the blue gander all manner of tender names and\nvowed he was handsome and knowing. At the end, this remarkable quill\nwrote the goose girl's name with a flourish so fine that she was pleased\nin spite of herself. She folded the letter and handed it to the gander\nwith a bow.\n\nNo sooner had she done this than the blue gander spread his wings and\nflew away in the clouds, and in his place stood a handsome shepherd lad\ndressed in blue corduroys. He had a hundred sheep in the fold that\nfollowed him, and in his hand a bag of silver.\n\n\"Dearest Goose Girl, wilt be mine?\" asked he. \"Yonder is my cottage,\nwhere I am sure we shall be very happy.\"\n\nThe goose girl was amazed at the change. But so handsome was this young\nshepherd lad, and so winning of speech and manner, that all thoughts of\nthe gray stone castle and the lord tumbled out of her head. She gazed\nwith delight at the little cottage to which the shepherd lad pointed.\nBlue smoke was curling from its chimney, and a bluebird was singing in a\ncage beside the kitchen door.\n\n\"We shall be married at once, shepherd lad of my heart,\" she answered\nhim sweetly, \"and I shall make you griddlecakes for your supper.\"\n\nSo the goose girl and the shepherd were married and went to live in the\nlittle cottage. Indeed, for all that I know, there they may be living to\nthis day, for I have met no one who has ever told me of the death of\neither.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nTHE LITTLE BROWN MAN\n\n\nOnce upon a time, there lived at the top of a very tall tree a little\nmagic sprite. Now this magic sprite was called the Little Brown Man, and\nthe tree was called the Tall Pine Tree. The Little Brown Man was so very\nsmall that had you ever seen him skipping and hopping about in his tree,\nyou would have thought him some lively little brown squirrel. The Little\nBrown Man was always busy as a bee and twice as cheerful. He spent his\ndays sweeping away the withered pine needles so that fresh new green\nneedles might grow. With his cunning hands and powers of magic he mended\nbroken places in the bark with healing herbs. At night the Little Brown\nMan rested from his labors. He curled himself up in the topmost boughs\nof the Tall Pine Tree, and the tree would rock him gently and sing him\nsongs about the sea.\n\nThus the Little Brown Man, scarce bigger than my hand, and the Tall Pine\nTree so high lived on in peace and happiness until an evil time befell\nthem. It happened on a black winter's night, when the Storm Wind in a\nrage went crashing through the forest. Lashing the heavy branches of the\ntallest trees, he tore them loose and flung them to the ground as though\nthey had been but so many twigs. Uprooting tiny trees and saplings by\nthe score, the Storm Wind tore his way along until he reached the Tall\nPine Tree. There he saw the Little Brown Man asleep in its topmost\nboughs.\n\n\"Ha, Little Brown Man!\" laughed the Storm Wind wickedly. \"At last I've\ncaught you unaware, and I will do you mischief!\" So saying, he blew a\nfurious blast and flung the Little Brown Man to the ground beneath.\nThen, in a wailing voice, the Storm Wind wove a spell of deep\nenchantment round the Little Brown Man, singing thus:\n\n  \"Flaming eye and hand like claw,\n  You'll dwell at your tree top no more;\n  No child at your approach will stay,\n  Your face will scare them all away.\n  But 'til some child bids you good-day,\n  You'll dwell down on the ground so low,\n  And to the Tall Pine cannot go!\"\n\nAnd then the Storm Wind blew away.\n\nFor a long time, the Little Brown Man lay still as one dead, for the\nfall had hurt him cruelly. The Tall Pine Tree wept bitterly at the\nlittle sprite's misfortune, and by and by its tears, falling like rain,\nwakened the Little Brown Man. But alas! The Storm Wind's wicked spell\nhad changed him, and the Little Brown Man with flaming eye and clawlike\nhand was very fierce and terrible to look upon.\n\n\"Oh, tell me, my Pine Tree!\" cried the Little Brown Man in dismay, \"how\nam I changed thus? My hands are hands no longer, but claws like those of\nwild beasts; my eye flames redder than the wicked wolf's! I cannot hop\nor skip; indeed, I scarce can hobble, so bent and twisted have I grown.\"\n\n\"Alas, my Little Brown Man!\" the Tall Pine Tree replied. \"While you did\nsleep, the Storm Wind tore you from my topmost bough, and wove this\nwicked spell around you. Until some child will speak to you a kindly\nword, you must remain thus bound by this evil spell.\"\n\nIn spite of his twisted back, the Little Brown Man tried again and again\nto climb into the Tall Pine Tree, but all his efforts were in vain.\nWearied and tired out at last, he made himself a nest among the withered\npine needles and began to wait for the magic word to break the Storm\nWind's evil spell.\n\nAt last the winter passed. The snow began to melt; the brook, freed of\nits coat of ice, began to sing and chatter as it splashed along; the\nbirds built nests; the sun shone down; the pussy willows, gray and\nbrown, began to bud and bloom. Then boys and girls came out to play\nbeneath the trees and gather buttercups and bluebells. The Little Brown\nMan's heart rejoiced, for he was sure the evil spell that bound him soon\nwould end. Whenever happy children played beside the Tall Pine Tree, he\nwould hobble toward them, saying:\n\n\"Good day to you! Good day to you, my children!\"\n\nBut alas! The boys and girls were frightened of his clawlike hands and\nflaming eye, and so they screamed and ran away. Thus springtime went,\nand summer followed after; the maple leaves flamed red and gold in\nautumn, and winter came again to wrap the forest in its cloak of snowy\nwhite. Still the magic words to break the Storm Wind's spell remained\nunspoken. Thus years and years rolled on. In winter now the Storm Wind\ntore the branches of the Tall Pine Tree and flung them to the ground.\nThe Little Brown Man, with his cunning hands and powers of magic, could\nno longer bind them fast. The Tall Pine Tree, once so green, grew old\nand rusty looking, because the Little Brown Man could no longer sweep\nthe withered needles from its boughs. The Little Brown Man, down upon\nthe ground, was in despair. It seemed the wicked spell would never be\nbroken. No children ever lingered near the Tall Pine Tree. Indeed, when\nonce they passed that way, they never came again. They thought the\nLittle Brown Man was a wicked pixie who would do them harm.\n\nThen at last the Little Brown Man peered from his nest one bright\nmorning and saw a little girl walking slowly toward the Tall Pine Tree.\nLittle Nannie always walked very slowly, because she was quite lame, and\nleaned upon a crutch. Sometimes she paused to watch a bee or butterfly;\nsometimes she leaned against a tree to rest, and all the while the\nLittle Brown Man watched her eagerly. At last she reached the Tall Pine\nTree, and then he hobbled forward, saying:\n\n\"Good day to you! Good day to you, my child!\"\n\nHis flaming eye and clawlike hand so startled Little Nannie that she\ndropped her crutch; but when she saw that the Little Brown Man was also\nvery lame, she was sorry for him, and so she answered bravely:\n\n\"Good day to you, good sir! I hope your health is fine,\" and so the\nmagic words were spoken.\n\nThe Little Brown Man could scarcely believe his ears and began to caper\nabout and prance with glee. Then presto! In a twinkling vanished all his\nugly features, his back grew straight, and he was once more kindly-eyed.\n\n\"Oh, Tall Pine Tree! Oh, Tall Pine Tree!\" he cried in joy. \"Behold now\nI am free to climb up to your topmost boughs once more!\" But in his joy\nthe Little Brown Man did not forget Little Nannie, who stood staring,\nwide-eyed, at the wonders she had seen.\n\n\"And now, my child!\" cried he, \"what can I do to serve you?\"\n\n\"Oh, please, sir,\" answered Little Nannie timidly, \"if you would give me\nmy crutch, I would be most grateful. I am so lame that I cannot stoop to\npick it up myself.\"\n\n\"Your crutch!\" screamed the Little Brown Man in a passion of rage. \"It\nis a wicked stick that holds you back when you would run and play, and\nso I treat it thus!\" He seized the crutch and flung it in the brook, and\nthere it floated swiftly in the current.\n\n\"Oh, Little Brown Man, what have you done!\" wept Little Nannie. \"Now I\ncan never wander in the forest any more, but must sit always in my\nchair. I cannot walk without my crutch, and my mother is too poor to buy\nme another.\" She leaned against the Tall Pine Tree and sobbed aloud.\n\n\"Stop, stop, Little Nannie!\" cried the Little Brown Man, \"I meant you\nno harm, as you will see. Now tell me this: Is it your wish to walk\nalways with a crutch? If so, say but a word, and I will bring it back\nagain, for now my powers of magic are returned.\"\n\n\"Oh, Little Brown Man!\" answered Little Nannie through her tears, \"I do\nnot wish to walk always with a crutch; indeed, I often weep because I\nwish to run and play like other boys and girls.\"\n\n\"Then try and see if your wish come true, Little Nannie,\" commanded the\nLittle Brown Man.\n\nLittle Nannie took a step forward, and then another and another, and\nfound her feet like wings. So, singing and laughing, she danced home\nthrough the forest, the happiest child in all the world. When she\nreached her gate, she cried out:\n\n\"Oh, Mother! Mother! Come quickly and see! I can run and play like other\nboys and girls! The Little Brown Man has granted my wish to me!\"\n\n\"My child!\" cried her mother in amazement, \"this is the work of a good\nfairy without doubt! And what did you say to thank the Little Brown\nMan?\"\n\n\"Oh, mother, I was so happy I forgot,\" replied Little Nannie, hanging\nher head.\n\n\"Then let us go in search of him at once,\" said her mother.\n\nSo hand in hand they sought the Little Brown Man, but though they called\nloud and long at the foot of the Tall Pine Tree, they could not find the\nLittle Brown Man. For at the magic of a kindly word, he had flown to the\ntopmost boughs, and there he dwelled for evermore.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nA TALE FOR HALLOWEEN\n\n\nBabette and Antone were the children of a very poor woodcutter. They\nlived in a little cottage on the side of a steep mountain, and the\nmountain looked upon a great forest. Now though their father toiled in\nthis forest from dawn until dark, he could earn but little. Wood in that\nregion was plentiful, and woodcutters were numerous. Their mother made\nfine laces which Antone carried to the market to sell; but in spite of\nall their efforts, the poor parents seldom could give their children\nmore than bread and broth to eat. Often indeed the broth was lacking if\nthe woodcutter found no hare in the traps he set. Babette and Antone,\nhowever, were happy little children and never thought of their poverty.\nBut it worried the woodcutter that Antone was ten years old and had not\nyet gone to school. Antone's mother taught him to read and write, that\nthe other boys and girls would not be too far beyond him, and Antone\nstudied his lessons diligently. Often as he sat doing his sums on the\nhearthstone, with a bit of charcoal for a pencil, his mother would sigh\nsadly. Antone did not like his mother to be sad, and so he always\nlaughed to cheer her.\n\n\"Never fear, Mother,\" he would say. \"Soon I shall send myself to school.\nMy vegetable patch does finely. Then, when I am a great scholar, you\nshall be poor no longer. My father shall have a team of oxen and you a\nfine satin gown; Babette shall have a dozen real dollies instead of the\nturnip dollies she now rocks in her dolly cradle.\"\n\n\"Ah, Antone, my son,\" his mother would answer with a sigh, \"unless you\nmake your fortune as a maker of toys, I fear you will have no fortune at\nall. Your fingers are as clever as a wizard's even now; and though you\nare past ten, we cannot spare you to go to school.\"\n\nIt was true, as she said. Antone made boats from bits of cedar wood, and\nwhen he had fitted them with sails you could not tell them from any\nthat had come out of a shop. He carved a doll's cradle from a pine knot,\nand for a dolly painted the white face of a turnip until one would think\nit was the face of some fair maiden,--so blue were this turnip dolly's\neyes and so pink her cheeks, her hair of golden corn silk fell in such\nwaves and her robe of young cabbage leaves was so green and beautiful.\nThen as often as this turnip dolly faded and began to shrivel, Antone\nmade another, which Babette declared was always more beautiful than the\none before. Babette had never been to the village and therefore knew\nnothing of real dollies. She loved her turnip babies tenderly indeed;\nshe always carried them in her arm when she went with Antone to meet\ntheir father and sang them little songs as she rocked them to sleep.\n\nNow it happened one night in the season of Halloween that Antone sat\ncarving jack-o'-lanterns to sell in the village. Babette, who was\nrocking her dolly to sleep, sat watching him. Being but six, she knew\nnothing about the fun which comes with Halloween, and so she listened\nround-eyed with wonder to Antone, who knew all things about\njack-o'-lanterns. When she heard that boys and girls dressed like\ngoblins and witches frolicked in the village streets, Babette made up\nher mind to frolic too.\n\n\"How fine it must be!\" she cried, clapping her hands. \"Halloween must be\nquite like Christmas!\"\n\n\"Not quite so fine as Christmas, Babette,\" answered Antone, as he carved\nthe teeth in the last jack-o'-lantern, \"but Halloween is very fine\nnevertheless. It is comical to see the jack-o'-lanterns bobbing up and\ndown with their faces grinning in the candle light. And on Halloween the\nboys and girls play pranks on their elders that they would be well\nswitched for at any other time; but every one laughs and is gay on that\nnight.\" Antone finished the jack-o'-lantern and piled it with a dozen\nmore in his little cart. He would sell them all in the village when he\ntook his vegetables to market the next day; no one else could carve such\nsplendid pumpkin faces as Antone.\n\n\"Then let us go and play pranks in the village too, Antone,\" cried\nBabette. \"Mother will make us goblin dresses, and there is still one\ngreat pumpkin in your garden for a jack-o'-lantern. Oh, what a frolic we\nshall have!\"\n\n\"Babette!\" exclaimed Antone in astonishment. \"Wherever did you get such\na notion? The frolic in the village is not for us. Mother has no time to\nmake us goblin dresses, and if she did, she has no goods; besides, how\nshould we find our way home through the forest?\"\n\n\"You know the way through the forest, Antone,\" insisted Babette, \"and if\nMother cannot make us goblin dresses, we can go without. It will be dark\nand our jack-o'-lantern will be as fine as any. Do come,\" she begged, \"I\nhave never been to a Halloween frolic.\"\n\n\"Now, Babette, I tell you we cannot go to the village to-morrow night,\"\nanswered Antone. \"I could not find my way home through the forest after\ndark, and we would both be lost. Be a good girl and do not tease any\nmore.\"\n\nAntone spoke sternly, and Babette burst into tears. She was very fond of\nher own way, and when she could not have it, sometimes she was a very\nnaughty little girl. She sobbed and wept so piteously that Antone found\nit hard to refuse her. However, he dared not go to the village at\nnight, as he feared to lose his way in the forest. So Antone trotted\nBabette on his knee and whispered that he would buy her chocolate; but\nshe only wept the harder.\n\n\"Now, Babette!\" cried Antone at last, when Babette showed no signs of\nstopping, \"I cannot take you to the village; but if you are a good girl\nand stop crying at once, I will make a little Halloween frolic just for\nyou and me. Now promise me you will not cry any more.\"\n\nBabette dried her eyes and promised. She wished a Halloween frolic, but\nwhether she frolicked at home or in the village mattered not at all.\n\n\"Will we wear goblin dresses or ghost dresses, Antone?\" she asked.\n\nAntone puzzled a moment before he answered. \"Oh, ghost dresses, I\nthink,\" said he.\n\nThe next day Babette was very good. She helped Antone gather his\nvegetables for market, and when he returned sat beside him quietly while\nhe carved the last pumpkin from his garden. When the jack-o'-lantern was\nfinished, Antone lighted the candle just for one second so that she\nmight see it grinning in the light. Babette clapped her hands; but he\nheld up a warning finger. The Halloween frolic was to be a secret. After\nsupper the children went to bed as usual, but instead of undressing,\nthey pulled their white nightdresses over their heavy coats.\n\n\"They will do for ghost dresses,\" whispered Antone when all was still,\nand they crept softly out. In the moonlight the jack-o'-lantern was\ngrinning broadly to greet them.\n\n\"Pumpkin is smiling at us,\" laughed Babette. She was very happy, for her\nfrolic was about to begin.\n\nAntone struck a match to light the candle, but there was no candle in\nthe jack-o'-lantern.\n\n\"I put the candle in; I know I did,\" said he in surprise. He searched in\nthe dark, and Babette stopped her laughing. Antone looked about, and\nthere beneath the bench lay the remainder of his precious candle. It was\nchewed to bits, and the wick was in shreds.\n\n\"Oh, Babette!\" cried he. \"A wicked rat has stolen our candle, and I paid\na whole penny for it too!\"\n\n\"Oh, the bad rats!\" cried Babette, bursting into tears. She stamped her\nfoot and sent the jack-o'-lantern rolling off the bench. It struck the\nearth with a bump and dented its nose a trifle.\n\n\"Now, Babette, what a baby you are! See what you have done!\" cried\nAntone. He stooped to pick up the pumpkin, but the pumpkin was too quick\nfor him.\n\n\"Oh, no, you don't,\" laughed Pumpkin in a thick throaty sort of voice.\n\"Babette smashed my nose a little, but that's no matter on a Halloween\nnight. Good-by, boys and girls,\" he called airily and rolled swiftly\ndown the hill.\n\n\"You come back here; you're my pumpkin,\" cried Antone and started after\nthe runaway. Babette followed, weeping and crying aloud.\n\n\"Oh, my Halloween frolic! Oh, my Halloween frolic!\" she mourned. \"Now we\nhave no jack-o'-lantern and no candle either.\"\n\n\"But just you wait until he rolls down into the vegetable garden,\"\nshouted Antone, as he chased the swiftly rolling pumpkin. \"He'll have to\nstop at the hedge.\" He took his little sister's hand that she might run\nfaster. Pumpkin rolled along just in front of them but always just out\nof their reach. When he reached the hedge, he gave a great leap and\nlanded directly in the vegetable patch.\n\n\"Come on, you Turnips! Come on, you Carrots!\" called Pumpkin, as he\nrolled along. At his words the Carrots and Turnips tore themselves from\ntheir beds and followed after him, shouting.\n\n\"Come on! Come on!\" called Pumpkin, and Parsnips and Beets followed the\nCarrots and Turnips.\n\n\"Look at Antone following us,\" yelled Pumpkin, and all his vegetable\nfollowers turned and laughed in derision.\n\n\"Ordinary nights you may be master, Antone,\" cried they, \"but not on\nHalloween. This is our night.\"\n\n\"Well, you wait until I catch you and then see how hard you'll laugh,\"\ncalled Antone angrily. To see his vegetable patch laid waste made him\nfurious.\n\n\"But you'll wait until you catch us before you punish us, won't you,\nAntone?\" they answered mockingly.\n\n\"Oh, it's Halloween! It's Halloween!\" sang Pumpkin, turning handsprings\nas he rolled along, and the rest of the vegetables did cartwheels as\nthey went careering after him. They looked like a dozen market stalls\nupset on the hillside, and poor Antone nearly wept when he thought of\nhis loss. He followed them with determination. Antone was not a lad to\ngive up easily.\n\n\"Follow me! Follow me!\" sang Pumpkin, as he led the way to a tiny door\nthat opened beneath the forest. Turnips and Carrots squeezed through,\nand Antone, fearing to be left behind, caught up Babette and ran faster.\nJust as he reached the little door, a rough Potato tried to slam it in\nhis face. But Antone was too quick for him. He ran through and climbed\ndown the hole into the underground forest. There he continued the chase,\nbut the ground here was springy and elastic, and with each step Antone\nbegan to gain on the vegetables. Babette's fatigue left her, and she\nshook herself free of Antone's hand.\n\n\"We'll catch up to them,\" declared Antone as they ran along. Even as he\nspoke, Potato stubbed his toe, and Babette caught him. She held him\nfirmly, although he squirmed and tried his best to get free.\n\n\"Help! Help!\" bawled Potato, when he saw he was a prisoner. \"Oh,\nPumpkin, wait for me!\" he cried. The tears streamed from every one of\nhis eyes, and he looked truly sad. At his cries Pumpkin turned around,\nand all the vegetables followed their leader.\n\n\"Come now, Antone,\" began Pumpkin in a persuasive voice. \"You might let\nus have one night off, you know. Halloween is our night.\" Somewhere on\nhis run, Pumpkin had picked up two twigs, and on these he now balanced\nhimself rather unsteadily and thrust his leaves in the place where his\npockets would have been if he had had pockets. He looked so very jolly\nand his grin was so very broad that Antone was inclined to give up the\nprisoner; but just then he thought of the ruined vegetable garden and\ngrew angry again.\n\n\"It is all very well for you to be polite, Pumpkin, and try to beg off\nyour friend,\" said Antone, \"but this is the very fellow that tried to\nslam the door in my face not two seconds ago.\"\n\n\"Oh, Antone,\" cried Potato, \"that's wrong. It was three seconds ago as\ntrue as I live. I looked at my watch just as I was trying to pinch your\nnose in the underground door, and it's quite three seconds ago; maybe\nit's four.\"\n\n\"Oh, hush up!\" cried Pumpkin. \"That's no way to talk when you are trying\nto beg off. Let him off for my sake, Antone,\" he continued in a most\nwinning voice. \"You'd get everlastingly tired of being in bed yourself;\nyou know you would. See if you wouldn't take the first chance to kick up\nyour heels if you could get it.\"\n\n\"But, Pumpkin,\" replied Antone, \"think of my vegetable garden; it is\nruined. I was saving all my vegetable money to go to school, and now I\ncannot go for ever and ever so long. Besides, how could I know you got\ntired of being in a bed? You never spoke to me before.\"\n\n\"Well, I speak to you now,\" replied Pumpkin, \"and as for your vegetable\npatch, we'll all make that up to you, won't we, boys?\"\n\n\"We will! We will!\" called the vegetables in chorus, and the Potato in\nBabette's little fist yelled the loudest of all.\n\n\"There, now, you see we mean no harm,\" declared Pumpkin, \"so let Potato\ngo. Then you can both join us in our Halloween frolic.\"\n\nAt the magic words \"Halloween frolic,\" Babette put Potato down at once.\nShe was bound to have her fun, and, after all, the vegetables seemed to\nbe a jolly lot. So peace was made, and the children followed the bobbing\nTurnips and Onions. Then shouts were heard, and Pumpkin ordered a halt.\nPresently they were joined by a dozen or more Cabbages.\n\n\"You're nice ones!\" panted the Cabbages. \"There we sat in the storeroom\nwaiting for you to call us, and the first thing we knew we saw you\npelting off down the hill like mad things.\"\n\n\"My gracious!\" said a very stout Cabbage, who was terribly out of\nbreath, \"I'll have to take off my outer leaves before I go another step.\nI feel as though I were boiled.\"\n\nAntone recognized the Cabbages at once. \"You are Father Minette's\ncabbages, are you not?\" he inquired politely as they marched along.\n\n\"Why, if it isn't little Antone, the woodcutter's son!\" exclaimed the\nvery stout Cabbage. \"Yes, we come from Minette's farm. Mother Minette\nsaved us for pickle, but we fooled her and slipped out of the storeroom\nwhen she was not looking. Oh, we Cabbages are not so green as we look!\"\nThe Cabbages all laughed, and Antone was surprised to find that he\nlaughed too.\n\nAs they went marching on, Pumpkin sang and danced in the lead, and\nOnions and Carrots echoed his hearty songs. Presently great black cats\nwith shining yellow eyes stepped from behind the trees, and each cat was\nsoon joined by its mistress, who was no other than a real witch in tall\npeaked hat and carrying a broomstick. The Cabbages, who were a friendly\nlot, introduced Antone and Babette to these witches, and the witches\nseemed pleased to meet the children.\n\n\"They do not seem to be wicked witches, do they, Antone?\" whispered\nBabette.\n\n\"Oh, my dear,\" replied a witch who overheard, \"we are not a bit wicked\non Halloween, you know. Any other night, I would probably do you a\nmischief. It is my nature, you know.\" She reached in her bag and handed\nBabette a peppermint. Babette, who was very fond of peppermint, ate it\nup with all haste.\n\n\"You shouldn't do that, my dear,\" reproved the witch. \"It is seldom\nwitches give peppermints, and when they do the peppermints should be\ntreasured. Here is another to keep for your pocket, and then you will\nnever be without a peppermint when you want one.\" And she handed Babette\nanother. Babette curtseyed so prettily that the witch was charmed and\ntook her to ride on her broomstick.\n\nIt was the gayest company one ever could imagine, as they marched along.\nEvery vegetable was singing a different Halloween song in a different\nkey, and they all had voices that sang out of tune by nature. Babette,\nher little white nightdress flying in the breeze, was riding on the\nwitch's broomstick and singing loudly as the rest. When they reached the\ndancing-floor it was lighted with millions and millions of glowworms,\nand an orchestra of ten thousand frogs hummed lively tunes in their\nthroats. Pumpkin seized a handful of glowworms and put them in his head.\nThen with his features all aglow he cried out:\n\n\"Ready for the dance!\"\n\n  [Illustration: It was the gayest company one ever could imagine,\n  as they marched along.--_Page 262._]\n\nInstead of taking partners, the vegetables just plunged on to the floor\nand began to jump about like mad. If they fell down they did not jump up\nat once but rolled around the floor most good-naturedly. They looked so\nlike vegetables boiling about in a great soup kettle that Antone thought\nhe should die of laughing. The witches took their brooms and began a\nsort of \"ladies-change\" figure while they chased their cats around the\nedge of the circle. Babette danced hardest of all. She knew no more of\ndancing than any Carrot or Parsnip, but she capered wildly, singing at\nthe top of her voice.\n\n\"Come and dance too, Antone,\" called Babette, as she went jumping past\nher brother, but he shook his head and laughed.\n\n\"I am too big for such nonsense,\" said he. \"I am ten, you know.\"\n\n\"What nonsense!\" cried a witch who was chasing her cat close by. \"Ten is\nexactly the right age to have fun.\" She raised her broom playfully, and\nbefore he knew it, she swept Antone into the middle of the dance.\nPumpkin, his grinning features all aglow, went flying past and made\nAntone feel proud. Pumpkin was certainly the handsomest vegetable of the\nlot. As the night grew later, the frogs hummed faster, but hum as fast\nas they would, they could not keep up with the frisky vegetables. Beets\nand Cauliflowers continued to bob up and down like mad; Cabbages from\nMinette's farm lost leaf after leaf; Carrots and Onions grew battered\nfrom much tumbling about, and the merry din of song and laughter grew\nlouder and louder.\n\n\"Let's play Blind Man's Buff,\" called Antone. \"I'll be 'it' and show you\nhow to play.\" He tied the handkerchief over his eyes, and the witches\nand their black cats went darting hither and thither. The vegetables\nwere so pleased with this new game that they would play nothing else.\nThey might have been playing it yet had not a cock crowed suddenly.\n\n\"Good gracious me!\" cried a witch. \"The glowworms are all gone out. It's\nnearly morning. All who are going back to the vegetable patch had best\nbe on their way.\"\n\n\"Not I!\" cried Pumpkin. \"I've done with vegetable patches forevermore.\"\n\n\"Not we,\" exclaimed the Cabbages. \"We're going to turn savage and be\nwild cabbages for the rest of our days! We shan't go back to Mother\nMinette's pickle jars.\" Straightway every vegetable began to raise its\nvoice and declare it would not go back to Antone's patch.\n\n\"Oh, hush, all of you!\" cried the witch. \"Stay in the woods for the rest\nof your life if you like. It is nothing to me; but what of Antone and\nBabette? Who is to take them home?\"\n\n\"Well, ma'am,\" replied Pumpkin with a low bow, \"we thought that you\nmight be good enough to give them a ride home on your broomstick.\"\n\n\"But Pumpkin!\" cried Antone in dismay, \"you promised to make it up to me\nif I let Potato go, and I think you should all return with me. I shall\nnot have any vegetables if you all remain in the woods.\"\n\n\"Never worry about that, Antone,\" replied Pumpkin with a lordly air.\n\"Here is a purse for each of you, and if you take good care never to\nlose them, you will have plenty of gold forever. Isn't that true, boys?\"\n\n\"True as we're not going back to the farm,\" cried the Cabbages. \"You had\nbest hurry and plant yourself before it grows daylight, Pumpkin,\" they\nwarned and began to dig holes in the earth. Before Antone and Babette\nhad mounted the witch's broomstick, all the Carrots and Turnips and even\nPumpkin were all tucked up in their sandy beds. They called a faint\ngood-by as the children sailed off with the witch.\n\n\"Oh, what a beautiful Halloween frolic,\" sighed Babette as she leaned\nher head on Antone's shoulder and fell fast asleep.\n\nThe broomstick flew with the swiftness of an eagle, and the witch warned\nAntone to hold Babette with a firm grasp. One by one the stars went out\nas they sped across the sky. The black cat steered and seemed to know\nthe exact way to the woodcutter's cottage, for just as the dawn was\nbreaking the broomstick glided down to Babette's window. The witch shook\nhands with Antone, and the black cat politely jumped off to help Antone\nwith his little sister. Before the good creature could mount again, the\nbroomstick was off like whirlwind, and it was left behind.\n\n\"This broomstick is so wild I cannot stop it,\" called the witch from\nthe clouds. \"Keep good care of my cat until next Halloween.\"\n\nAntone put Babette in her little crib and made the black cat a\ncomfortable bed in the kitchen. Then he lay down to sleep and dreamed of\nthe Halloween frolic until he was wakened by his mother.\n\n\"Come, Antone!\" she cried. \"I have good news for you. Only look from the\nwindow and see the great black cat without a single white hair that sits\nwashing his face in the sun. Such a cat coming to us on Halloween will\nsurely bring us good luck! But come, my child, get up, for the sun is\nhigh, and it is time for you to dig your vegetables for market.\"\n\n\"My vegetables have gone wild in the forest,\" muttered Antone, \"but it\nis no matter, for here is a bag of gold which they gave me. The cat is\nthe black cat of the witch who brought us home on her broomstick; so let\nme sleep, Mother, for I am weary with dancing at the Halloween frolic.\"\nHe closed his eyes and slept again, while his mother examined the\nleather bag.\n\n\"Antone, my son!\" she screamed. \"Here is gold yellow as a pumpkin! Where\nhave you been to gather such wealth?\" She shook him and gave him no\npeace until he waked fully and told the story. Even then his mother did\nnot believe it, but threw up her hands and wept that her son should thus\nrave with fever.\n\nThe woodcutter and Babette came running to see what had happened, and at\nthe sight of the second bag of gold the poor woman grew calmer. Babette\nshowed the peppermint which the witch had given her, and the mother\ndoubted no more.\n\n\"To receive a peppermint from a witch is surely a mark of great favor,\"\nsaid she, and began to laugh through her tears. \"I thought I was\ndreaming or that Antone raved of fever, for never in my life had I seen\nso much gold.\"\n\n\"It is like the fairies to bless the children of the poor,\" said the\nwoodcutter. \"Now Antone will go to school, and Mother will have a\nhandsome dress and shawl.\"\n\n\"And is it not as I said?\" cried his wife. \"A black cat coming on\nHalloween would bring us good luck, and here is the luck already!\"\n\nIt would have been hard to find a happier family than the woodcutter's\nas they set out for the village that day. When it was told that the\nwoodcutter was looking for a pair of oxen, some folk laughed outright.\nThe woodcutter was too poor to feed a pair of canaries, they declared;\nbut when it became known that the woodcutter's wife had bought a new\ndress and a golden ring, they began to wonder who had died and left the\nwoodcutter a fortune. Antone told the tale of their wealth to those who\nquestioned him, and straightway the village children ran to throw their\njack-o'-lanterns from the roofs and high places. But their pumpkins\nbroke or stayed on the ground below where they had fallen (it was no\nlonger Halloween, remember). At noon, when the woodcutter and his family\nsat down to dinner in the village inn, the landlord threatened to charge\na penny from all who stood gazing through the windows. Some folk scoffed\nopenly and declared it was a tale to tell children and dullards; but\nthere were the two leather bags filled with gold. The greatest marvel of\nall was, that no matter how much the woodcutter or his wife spent from\nthese, the bags always remained brimful of gold!\n\nAntone chose a pair of steel skates in the village shop and bought an\narmful of books for which he had longed. Babette, however, with her\nusual perverse ways, would have none of the dollies in the village toy\nshop. They were ugly, she declared, and their cheeks were not pink and\nbeautiful as were the turnip dollies Antone made for her.\n\nAnd ever after that the woodcutter and his wife were no longer poor\nfolk. They had white bread and even butter every day of their lives, and\non Sundays and holidays they had roasted fowl for their dinner. Antone\nwent to school, and Babette had an embroidered frock which was the envy\nof every child in the village. Their mother no longer sighed as she went\nabout her household tasks, and neither did she strain her eyes making\nfine laces for market. Instead she rode proudly on the seat of her\nhusband's ox cart when he delivered wood in the village; sometimes she\neven drank tea with the mayor's wife! Visitors from far and near went to\nsee the famous spot where Antone's vegetables all ran away one Halloween\nnight; and to this day there lives not a man who can make grow on that\nland cabbages or turnips or any other vegetable, although in a spot in\nthe forest, not far off, cabbages and pumpkins and all such vegetables\ngrow wild.\n\nEach year, as regularly as Halloween came to mark the harvest time,\nAntone and Babette mounted the broomstick with the witch and rode off to\nthe Halloween frolic. There they always found Pumpkin grown rounder and\njollier than the year before, and they always rode home across the sky\njust as the dawn was breaking. The black cat became so fond of Babette\nthat it never again rejoined its rightful mistress, but remained with\nthe woodcutter and his family and brought them good luck for the rest of\ntheir days.","title":"The Green Forest Fairy Book","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":52455}