{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_38070/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_38070","id":"gutenberg_38070","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/38070","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Short Stories","Fairy tales -- Norway"],"text":"Produced by David Edwards, eagkw 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  [Illustration: cover]\n\n\n\n\n  THE NORWEGIAN FAIRY BOOK\n\n\n\n\n  BOOKS IN THE \"FAIRY SERIES\"\n\n\n  _The English Fairy Book_\n  _The Welsh Fairy Book_\n  _The Irish Fairy Book_\n  _The Scottish Fairy Book_\n  _The Italian Fairy Book_\n  _The Hungarian Fairy Book_\n  _The Indian Fairy Book_\n  _The Spanish Fairy Book_\n  _The Danish Fairy Book_\n  _The Norwegian Fairy Book_\n  _The Jewish Fairy Book_\n  _The Swedish Fairy Book_\n  _The Chinese Fairy Book_\n\n\n\n\n  [Illustration: \"AN OLD WOMAN CAME LIMPING ALONG, AND ASKED HIM WHAT\n  HE HAD IN HIS KNAPSACK.\"\n                                                      --_Page 17_]\n\n\n\n\n  THE NORWEGIAN\n  FAIRY BOOK\n\n  EDITED BY\n  CLARA STROEBE\n\n  TRANSLATED BY\n  FREDERICK H. MARTENS\n\n  [Illustration]\n\n  WITH SIX ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOUR BY\n  GEORGE W. HOOD\n\n  NEW YORK\n  FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY\n  PUBLISHERS\n\n\n\n\n  _Copyright, 1922, by_\n  FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY\n\n  _All Rights Reserved_\n\n  _Printed in the United States of America_\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\nThese Norwegian tales of elemental mountain, forest and sea spirits,\nhanded down by hinds and huntsmen, woodchoppers and fisherfolk, men who\nled a hard and lonely life amid primitive surroundings are, perhaps,\namong the most fascinating the Scandinavian countries have to offer. Nor\nare they only meant to delight the child, though this they cannot fail\nto do. \"Grown-ups\" also, who take pleasure in a good story, well told,\nwill enjoy the original \"Peer Gynt\" legend, as it existed before Ibsen\ngave it more symbolic meanings; and that glowing, beautiful picture of\nan Avalon of the Northern seas shown in \"The Island of Udroest.\" What\ncould be more human and moving than the tragic \"The Player on the\nJew's-Harp,\" or more genuinely entertaining than \"The King's Hares\"?\n\"The Master-Girl\" is a Candida of fairy-land, and the thrill and glamor\nof black magic and mystery run through such stories as \"The Secret\nChurch,\" \"The Comrade,\" and \"Lucky Andrew.\" In \"The Honest Four-Shilling\nPiece\" we have the adventures of a Norse Dick Whittington. \"Storm Magic\"\nis one of the most thrilling sea tales, bar none, ever written, and\nevery story included in the volume seems to bring with it the breath of\nthe Norse mountains or the tang of the spindrift on Northern seas. Much\nof the charm of the stories lies in the directness and simplicity of\ntheir telling; and this quality, which adds so much to their appeal, the\ntranslator has endeavored to preserve in its integrity. He cannot but\nfeel that \"The Norwegian Fairy Book\" has an appeal for one and all,\nsince it is a book in which the mirror of fairy-tale reflects human\nyearnings and aspirations, human loves, ambitions and disillusionments,\nin an imaginatively glamored, yet not distorted form. It is his hope and\nbelief that those who may come to know it will derive as much pleasure\nfrom its reading as it gave him to put it into English.\n\n                                             FREDERICK H. MARTENS.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n  CHAPTER                                              PAGE\n\n        I  PER GYNT                                       1\n\n       II  THE ISLE OF UDROeST                             9\n\n      III  THE THREE LEMONS                              16\n\n       IV  THE NEIGHBOR UNDERGROUND                      23\n\n        V  THE SECRET CHURCH                             26\n\n       VI  THE COMRADE                                   30\n\n      VII  ASPENCLOG                                     48\n\n     VIII  THE TROLL WEDDING                             51\n\n       IX  THE HAT OF THE HULDRES                        54\n\n        X  THE CHILD OF MARY                             56\n\n       XI  STORM MAGIC                                   62\n\n      XII  THE FOUR-SHILLING PIECE                       69\n\n     XIII  THE MAGIC APPLES                              76\n\n      XIV  SELF DID IT                                   81\n\n       XV  THE MASTER GIRL                               83\n\n      XVI  ANENT THE GIANT WHO DID NOT HAVE HIS HEART\n             ABOUT HIM                                  101\n\n     XVII  THE THREE PRINCESSES IN WHITELAND            110\n\n    XVIII  TROUBLE AND CARE                             118\n\n      XIX  KARI WOODENCOAT                              136\n\n       XX  OLA STORBAEKKJEN                             152\n\n      XXI  THE CAT WHO COULD EAT SO MUCH                155\n\n     XXII  EAST OF THE SUN AND WEST OF THE MOON         165\n\n    XXIII  MURMUR GOOSE-EGG                             181\n\n     XXIV  THE TROLL-WIFE                               197\n\n      XXV  THE KING'S HARES                             202\n\n     XXVI  HELGE-HAL IN THE BLUE HILL                   213\n\n    XXVII  THE LORD OF THE HILL AND JOHN BLESSOM        224\n\n   XXVIII  THE YOUNG FELLOW AND THE DEVIL               227\n\n     XXIX  FARTHER SOUTH THAN SOUTH, AND FARTHER NORTH\n             THAN NORTH, AND IN THE GREAT HILL OF GOLD  229\n\n      XXX  LUCKY ANDREW                                 236\n\n     XXXI  THE PASTOR AND THE SEXTON                    244\n\n    XXXII  THE SKIPPER AND SIR URIAN                    247\n\n   XXXIII  THE YOUTH WHO WAS TO SERVE THREE YEARS\n             WITHOUT PAY                                250\n\n    XXXIV  THE YOUTH WHO WANTED TO WIN THE DAUGHTER OF\n             THE MOTHER IN THE CORNER                   265\n\n     XXXV  THE CHRONICLE OF THE PANCAKE                 274\n\n    XXXVI  SORIA-MORIA CASTLE                           279\n\n   XXXVII  THE PLAYER ON THE JEW'S-HARP                 293\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS\n\n\n  \"AN OLD WOMAN CAME LIMPING ALONG, AND ASKED\n    HIM WHAT HE HAD IN HIS KNAPSACK\"          _Frontispiece_\n\n                                                 FACING PAGE\n  \"AND SO HE SAW THE LOVELY MAIDEN WHO WAS SEATED\n    AMONG ITS BRANCHES\"                                   58\n\n  \"THEY AT LAST REACHED THE LAKE\"                        108\n\n  \"THERE MURMUR JUMPED FROM ONE MOUNTAIN-TOP TO\n    ANOTHER\"                                             188\n\n  \"THE KING RECKONED AND ADDED THEM UP, AND COUNTED\n    WITH HIS FINGERS\"                                    206\n\n  \"'HEY THERE!' THE WOMAN WAS AFTER IT WITH THE PAN IN\n    ONE HAND, AND THE SPOON IN THE OTHER\"                274\n\n\n\n\nTHE NORWEGIAN FAIRY BOOK\n\n\n\n\nI\n\nPER GYNT\n\n\nIn the old days there lived in Kvam a marksman by the name of Per Gynt.\nHe was continually in the mountains, where he shot bear and elk, for at\nthat time there were more forests on the Fjaell, and all sorts of beasts\ndwelt in them. Once, late in the fall, when the cattle had long since\nbeen driven down from the mountain pastures, Per Gynt decided to go up\non the Fjaell again. With the exception of three dairy-maids, all the\nherd-folk had already left the mountains. But when Per Gynt reached\nHoevringalm, where he intended to stay over-night in a herdsman's hut,\nit already was so dark that he could not see his hand before his eyes.\nThen the dogs began to bark so violently that he felt quite uneasy. And\nsuddenly his foot struck something, and when he took hold of it, it was\ncold, and large and slippery. Since he felt certain he had not left the\npath, he could not imagine what it might be; but he sensed that all was\nnot in order.\n\n\"And who are you?\" asked Per Gynt, for he noticed that it moved.\n\n\"O, I am the crooked one,\" was the answer. And now Per Gynt knew as much\nas he had before. So he went along its length, \"for sooner or later I\nwill come to the end of it,\" thought he.\n\nAs he went along he again struck against something, and when he felt it,\nit was again something cold, and large and slippery.\n\n\"And who are you?\" asked Per Gynt.\n\n\"I am the crooked one,\" was again the answer.\n\n\"Well, whether you be crooked or straight, you will have to let me\npass,\" said Per Gynt; for he noticed that he was going around in a\ncircle, and that the crooked one had coiled himself about the herdsman's\ncottage. At these words the crooked one moved a little to one side, so\nthat Per Gynt could get into the cottage. When he entered he found it as\ndark inside as it was out; and he stumbled and felt his way along the\nwalls; for he wanted to lay aside his firelock and his hunting-bag. But\nwhile he was feeling his way about, he once more noticed the something\nlarge, and cold and slippery.\n\n\"And who are you now?\" cried Per Gynt.\n\n\"O, I am the big crooked one,\" was the answer. And no matter where he\ntook hold or where he set his foot, he could feel the coils of the\ncrooked one laid around him.\n\n\"This is a poor place to be in,\" thought Per Gynt, \"for this crooked one\nis outside and inside; but I will soon put what is wrong to rights.\" He\ntook his firelock, went out again, and felt his way along the crooked\none until he came to his head.\n\n\"And who are you really and truly?\" he asked.\n\n\"O, I am the big crooked one of Etnedal,\" said the monster troll. Then\nPer Gynt did not waste any time, but shot three bullets right through\nthe middle of his head.\n\n\"Shoot again!\" cried the crooked one. But Per Gynt knew better, for had\nhe shot another time, the bullet would have rebounded and hit him. When\nthis had been done, Per Gynt and his dogs took hold of the great troll,\nand dragged him out of the hut, so that they might make themselves\ncomfortable there. And meanwhile the hills about rang with laughter and\njeers. \"Per Gynt pulled hard, but the dogs pulled harder!\" rang in his\nears.\n\nIn the morning Per Gynt went out hunting. When he had made his way\nfar into the Fjaell, he saw a girl driving sheep and goats across a\nmountain-top. But when he reached the top of the mountain, the girl\nhad vanished, as well as her flock, and all he saw was a great pack\nof bears.\n\n\"Never yet have I seen bears run together in packs,\" thought Per Gynt.\nBut when he came nearer, they all disappeared save one alone. Then a\nvoice called from a nearby hill:\n\n      \"Guard your boar, for understand,\n      Per Gynt is without,\n      With his firelock in his hand!\"\n\n\"O, then it is the worse for Per Gynt; but not for my boar, because Per\nGynt did not wash to-day,\" sounded back from the hill. But Per Gynt spat\non his hands, and washed them thus, and then shot the bear.\n\nThe hills rang with echoing laughter:\n\n\"You should have guarded your boar better,\" called one voice.\n\n\"I did not think he carried the wash-bowl in his mouth,\" answered the\nother.\n\nPer Gynt skinned the bear, and buried his body among the bowlders; but\nthe head and skin he took with him. On the way back he met a mountain\nfox.\n\n\"See, my little lamb, how fat you are!\" rang out from one hill. \"Just\nsee how high Per Gynt carries his firelock!\" sounded from another, as\nPer Gynt shouldered his firelock and shot the fox. Him he also skinned,\nand took the skin with him, and when he reached the herdsman's hut, he\nnailed the heads, with jaws wide open, against the outer wall. Then he\nmade a fire and hung a soup kettle over it; but it smoked so terribly he\ncould hardly keep his eyes open, and therefore had to make a loop-hole.\nSuddenly up came a troll, and thrust his nose through the loop-hole; but\nhis nose was so long that it reached the fireplace.\n\n\"Here is my smeller, so take a good look!\" said he.\n\n\"Here is a taste of the soup that I cook!\" said Per Gynt, and he\npoured the whole kettleful of soup over his nose. The troll rushed off\nlamenting loudly; but from all the heights around came laughter and\nderision and calls of:\n\n\"Gyri Soupsmeller, Gyri Soupsmeller!\"\n\nThereupon all was quiet for a time; yet before very long the noise and\ntumult outside began again. Per Gynt looked out, and saw a wagon drawn\nby bears, the great troll was loaded upon it, and off they went with\nhim up the Fjaell. Suddenly a pail of water was poured down through\nthe chimney, smothering the fire, and Per Gynt sat in the dark. Then\nlaughter and jibes came from every corner, and one voice said: \"Now Per\nGynt will be no better off than the dairy-maids in the hut at Val!\"\n\nPer Gynt once more lit the fire, called his dogs, locked the herdsman's\nhut, and went on North, toward the hut at Val, in which there were three\ndairy-maids. After he had covered some distance he saw a fire, as though\nthe whole hut were ablaze, and at the same moment he came across a whole\npack of wolves, of whom he shot some and clubbed the others to death.\nWhen he reached the hut at Val, he found it pitch dark there, and there\nwas no fire to be seen, far or near. But there were four strangers in\nthe hut, who were frightening the dairy-maids. They were four mountain\ntrolls, and their names were: Gust i Vaere, Tron Valfjeldet, Kjoestoel\nAabakken, and Rolf Eldfoerkungen. Gust i Vaere stood at the door, on\nguard, and Per Gynt shot at him, but missed, so he ran away. When Per\nGynt entered the room the dairy-maids were well-nigh frightened to\ndeath; but when the trolls saw who had come they began to wail, and\ntold Eldfoerkungen to make a fire. At the same moment the dogs sprang\nupon Kjoestoel Aabakken, and threw him head over heels into the hearth,\nso that the ashes and sparks flew about.\n\n\"Have you seen my snakes, Per Gynt?\" asked Tron Valfjeldet--for that was\nwhat he called the wolves.\n\n\"Yes, and now you shall travel the same road your snakes have gone!\"\ncried Per Gynt, and shot him. Then he made an end of Aabakken with the\nbutt-end of his firelock; but Eldfoerkungen had fled through the chimney.\nAfter Per Gynt had done this, he accompanied the dairy-maids back to\ntheir village, for they did not venture to stay in the hut any longer.\n\nWhen Christmas came, Per Gynt once more got under way. He had heard of\na farmstead at Dovre, where so many trolls were accustomed to congregate\non Christmas Eve, that the people who lived there had to flee, and find\nplaces to stay at other farms. This farmstead Per Gynt decided to hunt\nup; for he thought he would like to see these trolls. He put on torn\nclothing, and took with him a tame bear which belonged to him, together\nwith an awl, some pitch and some wire. When he had reached the\nfarmstead, he went into the house and asked for shelter.\n\n\"May God aid us!\" cried the man. \"We cannot shelter you, and have to\nleave the house ourselves, because the place is alive with trolls every\nChristmas Eve!\"\n\nBut Per Gynt thought he could manage to clear the house of the trolls.\nSo they told him to stay, and gave him a pig's skin into the bargain.\nThen the bear lay down behind the hearth, Per took out his awl, his\npitch and his wire, and set out to make a single large shoe out of the\npig's skin. And he drew a thick rope through it for a lace, so that he\ncould lace the whole shoe together, and besides he had two wagon-spokes\nfor wedges at hand. Suddenly the trolls came along with fiddles and\nfiddlers, and some of them danced, and others ate of the Christmas\ndinner that stood on the table, and some fried bacon, and others fried\nfrogs and toads and disgusting things of that kind--the Christmas dinner\nthey had brought along themselves. In the meantime some of them noticed\nthe shoe Per Gynt had made. Since it was evidently intended for a large\nfoot, all the trolls wanted to try it on. When every one of them had\nthrust in his foot, Per Gynt laced it, forced in a wedge, and then drew\nthe lace so taut that every last one of them was caught and held in the\nshoe. But now the bear thrust forth his nose, and sniffed the roast.\n\n\"Would you like to have some cake, little white cat?\" said one of the\ntrolls, and threw a burning hot, roasted frog into the bear's jaws.\n\n\"Thump them, Master Bruin!\" cried Per Gynt. And the bear grew so angry\nthat he rushed on the trolls, raining blows on every side and scratching\nthem. And Per Gynt hewed into the crowd with his other wagon-spoke as\nthough he meant to break their skulls. Then the trolls had to make\nthemselves scarce, but Per Gynt remained, and feasted on the Christmas\nfare all of Christmas week, while for many a long year no more was heard\nof the trolls.\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    \"Per Gynt\" (Asbjoernsen, _Norske Huldreeventyr og Folkesagn_,\n    Christiania, 1859, Part II, p. 77. From the vicinity of the Dover\n    mountains. The story was told Asbjoernsen by a bird hunter, whom he\n    accidentally met while hunting reindeer). Like \"The Island of\n    Udroest\" which follows it, it is distinctively a Northern tale.\n    The bold huntsman of Kvam, whose name and weirdly adventurous\n    experience with the great crooked one of Etnedal, thanks to Ibsen,\n    have been presented in an altogether different, symbolic form,\n    makes his appearance here with all the heartfelt spontaneity of\n    the folk-tale, as it is still recounted, half in pride, half in\n    dread, in the lonely herdsman's huts of the Dovre country.\n\n\n\n\nII\n\nTHE ISLE OF UDROeST\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived at Vaeroe, not far from Roest, a poor\nfisherman, named Isaac. He had nothing but a boat and a couple of goats,\nwhich his wife fed as well as she could with fish leavings, and with the\ngrass she was able to gather on the surrounding hills; but his whole hut\nwas full of hungry children. Yet he was always satisfied with what God\nsent him. The only thing that worried him was his inability to live at\npeace with his neighbor. The latter was a rich man, thought himself\nentitled to far more than such a beggarly fellow as Isaac, and wanted\nto get him out of the way, in order to take for himself the anchorage\nbefore Isaac's hut.\n\nOne day Isaac had put out a few miles to sea to fish, when suddenly a\ndark fog fell, and in a flash such a tremendous storm broke, that he had\nto throw all his fish overboard in order to lighten ship and save his\nlife. Even then it was very hard to keep the boat afloat; but he steered\na careful course between and across the mountainous waves, which seemed\nready to swallow him from moment to moment. After he had kept on for\nfive or six hours in this manner, he thought that he ought to touch\nland somewhere. But time went by, and the storm and fog grew worse and\nworse. Then he began to realize that either he was steering out to sea,\nor that the wind had veered, and at last he made sure the latter was the\ncase; for he sailed on and on without a sight of land. Suddenly he heard\na hideous cry from the stern of the boat, and felt certain that it was\nthe _drang_, who was singing his death-song. Then he prayed God to guard\nhis wife and children, for he thought his last hour had come. As he sat\nthere and prayed, he made out something black; but when his boat drew\nnearer, he noticed that it was only three cormorants, sitting on a piece\nof drift-wood and--swish! he had passed them. Thus he sailed for a long\ntime, and grew so hungry, so thirsty and so weary that he did not know\nwhat to do; for the most part he sat with the rudder in his hand and\nslept. But all of a sudden the boat ran up on a beach and stopped. Then\nIsaac opened his eyes. The sun broke through the fog, and shone on a\nbeautiful land. Its hills and mountains were green to their very tops,\nfields and meadows lay among their slopes, and he seemed to breathe a\nfragrance of flowers and grass sweeter than any he had ever known\nbefore.\n\n\"God be praised, now I am safe, for this is Udroest!\" said Isaac to\nhimself. Directly ahead of him lay a field of barley, with ears so\nlarge and heavy that he had never seen their like, and through the\nbarley-field a narrow path led to a green turf-roofed cottage of clay,\nthat rose above the field, and on the roof of the cottage grazed a white\ngoat with gilded horns, and an udder as large as that of the largest\ncow. Before the door sat a little man clad in blue, puffing away at a\nlittle pipe. He had a beard so long and so large that it hung far down\nupon his breast.\n\n\"Welcome to Udroest, Isaac!\" said the man.\n\n\"Good day to you, father,\" said Isaac, \"and do you know me?\"\n\n\"It might be that I do,\" said the man. \"I suppose you want to stay here\novernight?\"\n\n\"That would suit me very well, father,\" was Isaac's reply.\n\n\"The trouble is with my sons, for they cannot bear the smell of a\nChristian,\" answered the man. \"Did you meet them?\"\n\n\"No, I only met three cormorants, who were sitting on a piece of\ndrift-wood and croaking,\" was Isaac's reply.\n\n\"Well, those were my sons,\" said the man, and emptied his pipe, \"and now\ncome into the house, for I think you must be hungry and thirsty.\"\n\n\"I'll take that liberty, father,\" said Isaac.\n\nWhen the man opened the door, everything within was so beautiful that\nIsaac could not get over his admiration. He had never seen anything like\nit. The table was covered with the finest dishes, bowls of cream, and\nsalmon and game, and liver dumplings with syrup, and cheese as well, and\nthere were whole piles of doughnuts, and there was mead, and everything\nelse that is good. Isaac ate and drank bravely, and yet his plate was\nnever empty; and no matter how much he drank, his glass was always\nfull. The man neither ate much nor said much; but suddenly they heard a\nnoise and clamor before the house, and the man went out. After a time he\nreturned with his three sons, and Isaac trembled inwardly when they came\nthrough the door; but their father must have quieted them, for they were\nvery friendly and amiable, and told Isaac he must use his guest-right,\nand sit down and drink with them; for Isaac had risen to leave the\ntable, saying he had satisfied his hunger. But he gave in to them, and\nthey drank mead together, and became good friends. And they said that\nIsaac must go fishing with them, so that he would have something to take\nwith him when he went home.\n\nThe first time they put out a great storm was raging. One of the\nsons sat at the rudder, the second at the bow, and the third in the\nmiddle; and Isaac had to work with the bailing-can until he dripped\nperspiration. They sailed as though they were mad. They never reefed a\nsail, and when the boat was full of water, they danced on the crests of\nthe waves, and slid down them so that the water in the stern spurted up\nlike a fountain. After a time the storm subsided, and they began to\nfish. And the sea was so full of fish that they could not even put out\nan anchor, since mountains of fish were piled up beneath them. The sons\nof Udroest drew up one fish after another. Isaac knew his business; but\nhe had taken along his own fishing-tackle, and as soon as a fish bit he\nlet go again, and at last he had caught not a single one. When the boat\nwas filled, they sailed home again to Udroest, and the sons cleaned the\nfish, and laid them on the stands. Meanwhile Isaac had complained to\ntheir father of his poor luck. The man promised that he should do better\nnext time, and gave him a couple of hooks; and the next time they went\nout to fish, Isaac caught just as many as the others, and when they\nreached home, he was given three stands of fish as his share.\n\nAt length Isaac began to get homesick, and when he was about to leave,\nthe man made him a present of a new fishing-boat, full of meal, and\ntackle and other useful things. Isaac thanked him repeatedly, and the\nman invited him to come back when the season opened again, since he\nhimself was going to take a cargo to Bergen, in the second _stevne_,[1]\nand Isaac could go along and sell his fish there himself. Isaac was more\nthan willing, and asked him what course he should set when he again\nwanted to reach Udroest. \"All you need do is to follow the cormorant when\nhe heads for the open sea, then you will be on the right course,\" said\nthe man. \"Good luck on your way!\"\n\n    [1] A fleet of ships that set sail together from Nordland\n    to Bergen to sell fish.\n\nBut when Isaac got underway, and looked around, there was no Udroest in\nsight; far and wide, all around him, he saw no more than the ocean.\n\nWhen the time came, Isaac sailed to join the man of Udroest's\nfishing-craft. But such a craft he had never seen before. It was two\nhails long, so that when the steersman, who was on look-out in the\nstern, wanted to call out something to the rower, the latter could not\nhear him. So they had stationed another man in the middle of the ship,\nclose by the mast, who had to relay the steersman's call to the rower,\nand even he had to shout as loudly as he could in order to make\nhimself heard.\n\nIsaac's share was laid down in the forepart of the boat; and he himself\ntook down the fish from the stands; yet he could not understand how it\nwas that the stands were continually filled with fresh fish, no matter\nhow many he took away, and when he sailed away they were still as full\nas ever. When he reached Bergen, he sold his fish, and got so much money\nfor them that he was able to buy a new schooner, completely fitted out,\nand with a cargo to boot, as the man of Udroest had advised him. Late in\nthe evening, when he was about to sail for home, the man came aboard\nand told him never to forget those who survived his neighbor, for his\nneighbor himself had died; and then he wished Isaac all possible success\nand good fortune for his schooner, in advance. \"All is well, and all\nstands firm that towers in the air,\" said he, and what he meant was that\nthere was one aboard whom none could see, but who would support the mast\non his back, if need be.\n\nSince that time fortune was Isaac's friend. And well he knew why this\nwas so, and never forgot to prepare something good for whoever held the\nwinter watch, when the schooner was drawn up on land in the fall. And\nevery Christmas night there was the glow and shimmer of light, the\nsound of fiddles and music, of laughter and merriment, and of dancing on\nthe deserted schooner.\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    \"The Island of Udroest\" (Asbjoernsen, _Huldreeventyr_, Part I,\n    p. 259, from Nordland, narrator not specified) is a legendary\n    paradise, which appears at the moment of extremest peril to the\n    Norsemen helplessly shipwrecked in the stormy sea. The Norsemen,\n    whose fields near the boisterous waves yield but a niggardly\n    return, cannot say too much regarding its lavish fruitfulness and\n    its abiding peace. Udroest is almost an Isle of the Blest, an\n    Avalon, to the fisherfolk whose lives are passed in want and\n    constant danger.\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\nTHE THREE LEMONS\n\n\nOnce upon a time there were three brothers who had lost their parents,\nand since the latter had left their sons nothing upon which to live,\nthey had to wander out into the world, and seek their fortune. The two\nolder brothers prepared for the journey as well as they were able; but\nthe youngest, whom they called \"Mike by the Stove,\" because he was\nalways sitting behind the stove whittling, they did not want to take\nwith them. So they set out at early dawn; yet for all their hurrying\nMike by the Stove reached the king's court as soon as they did. When\nthey got there, they asked to be taken into the king's service. Well,\nsaid the king, he really had no work for them to do; but since they\nwere so poor, he would see that they were kept busy; there was always\nsomething or other to do in such a big establishment: they could drive\nnails into the wall, and when they were through, they could pull them\nout again. And when that was done, they could carry wood and water into\nthe kitchen. Mike by the Stove was quickest at driving his nails into\nthe wall, and pulling them out again, and he had been quick, too, about\ncarrying his wood and water. Therefore his brothers grew jealous, and\nsaid he had declared he could obtain the most beautiful princess in\ntwelve kingdoms for the king--for the king's wife had died and he was\na widower. When the king heard this, he told Mike by the Stove he had\nbetter do as he had said, else he would have him brought to the block,\nand his head chopped off.\n\nMike by the Stove replied that he had neither said nor thought anything\nof the kind; but that seeing the king was so severe, he would try it. So\nhe took a knapsack full of food and set out. But he had only pushed a\nlittle way into the wood before he grew hungry, and thought he would\nsample the provisions they had given him at the king's castle. When he\nhad sat down in all peace and comfort under a pine-tree by the side of\nthe road, an old woman came limping along, and asked him what he had in\nhis knapsack. \"Meat and bacon, granny,\" said the youth. \"If you are\nhungry, come and share with me!\" She thanked him, satisfied her hunger,\nand then telling him she would do him a favor in turn, limped off into\nthe wood. When Mike by the Stove had eaten his fill, he slung his\nknapsack across his shoulder once more, and went his way; but he had\nonly gone a short distance before he found a whistle. That would be\nfine, thought he, to have a whistle, and be able to whistle himself a\ntune while he traveled, and before long he really succeeded in making\nit sound. That very moment the wood was alive with dwarfs, all of them\nasking with one voice: \"What are my lord's commands? What are my lord's\ncommands?\" Mike by the Stove said he did not know he was their lord;\nbut if he had any command to give, he would ask them to bring him the\nfairest princess in twelve kingdoms. That would be easy enough, said the\ndwarfs; they knew exactly who she was, and they could show him the way;\nthen he himself could go and fetch her, since the dwarfs were powerless\nto touch her. They showed him the way, and he reached his goal quickly\nand without trouble, for no one interfered with him. It was a troll's\ncastle, and in it were three beautiful princesses; but when Mike by the\nStove stepped in, they acted as though they had lost their wits, ran\naround like frightened lambs, and finally turned into three lemons that\nlay on the window-ledge. Mike by the Stove was in despair, and very\nunhappy because he did not know what to do. But after he had reflected\na while, he took the three lemons, and put them in his pocket; because,\nthought he, he might be glad he had done so should he grow thirsty\nduring his journey, for he had heard that lemons were sour.\n\nAfter he had traveled a way, he grew very warm and thirsty. There was no\nwater to be found, and he did not know how he was to refresh himself.\nThen the lemons occurred to him, and he took one and bit into it. But in\nit sat a princess, visible up to her arms, and cried: \"Water, water!\"\nIf she could not have some water, said she, she must die. The youth ran\nabout everywhere like mad, looking for water; but there was no water\nthere, and none to be found, and when he returned she was dead.\n\nAfter he had gone on again a while, he grew still more thirsty, and\nsince he found nothing with which to refresh himself, he took another\nlemon and bit into it. And another princess looked out, up to her\nshoulders, and she was even more beautiful than the first. She cried for\nwater, and said that if she could not have some water she must die on\nthe spot. Mike by the Stove ran about and looked under stones and moss;\nbut he found no water, so this princess also died.\n\nMike by the Stove thought that things were going from bad to worse, and\nthis was the truth, since the further he went the warmer it grew. The\npart of the country in which he was traveling was so parched and dried\nthat not a drop of water was to be found, and he was half-dead with\nthirst. For a long time he hesitated before biting into the last lemon;\nbut at last there was nothing else left to do. When he had bitten\ninto it, a princess looked out: she was the most beautiful in twelve\nkingdoms, and she cried that if she could have no water, she must die on\nthe spot. Mike by the Stove ran about and looked for water, and this\ntime he met the king's miller, who showed him the way to the mill-pond.\nWhen he had come with her to the mill-pond, and had given her water, she\ncame completely out of the lemon. But she had nothing to wear, and Mike\nby the Stove had to give her his smock. She put it on, and hid in a\ntree; while he was to go to the castle and bring her clothes, and tell\nthe king he had found her, and how it had all happened.\n\nMeanwhile the cook had come down to the pond to fetch water. When she\nsaw the lovely face that was reflected in the pond, she thought it was\nher own, and was so pleased that she began to dance and jump around,\nbecause she had grown so beautiful.\n\n\"Let the devil fetch the water, I'm far too handsome to bother with it!\"\nsaid she, and threw away the water-pail. And then she suddenly noticed\nthat the face in the water was that of the princess who sat in the tree.\nThis made her so angry that she pulled her down from the tree, and threw\nher into the pond. Then she herself put on Mike by the Stove's smock,\nand climbed into the tree. When the king arrived, and saw the swart,\nhomely kitchen-maid, he grew red and white in turn; but when he heard\nthe people say she was the greatest beauty in twelve kingdoms, he had to\nbelieve, willy-nilly, that there was something in it, and he did not\nwant to be unjust to Mike by the Stove, who had taken so much trouble to\nfind her. She might grow more beautiful in time, thought he, if she were\nadorned with jewels, and dressed in fine clothes, and so he took her\nhome with him. Then they sent for wig-makers and seamstresses, and she\nwas adorned and dressed like a princess; but for all their washing and\nbedizening, she remained swart and homely. After a while, when the\nkitchen-maid had to go to the pond to fetch water, she caught a great\nsilver fish in her pail. She carried it up and showed it to the king,\nwho thought it was a beauty; but the homely princess declared it to be\nthe work of witches, and that they were to burn it, for she had noticed\nat once what it was. So the following morning the fish was burned, and\nthey found a lump of silver in the ashes. Then the cook went up and\ntold the king, and he thought it very strange; but the princess said it\nwas witchcraft pure and simple, and that they were to bury the silver\nunder the manure-pile. The king did not want to, but she gave him no\npeace until he consented, and finally said they were to do so. But on\nthe following day a beautiful linden-tree stood where they had buried\nthe lump of silver, and the leaves of the linden-tree glistened like\nsilver, too. When they told the king he thought it remarkable; but the\nprincess said it was no more nor less than witchcraft, and that the\nlinden-tree must be cut down. This the king did not wish done at all;\nbut the princess tormented him so that finally he yielded in this as\nwell. When the maids went out and brought wood for the fire from the\nlinden-tree, it was pure silver. \"We need not tell the king and the\nprincess anything about it,\" said one of them, \"for they would only burn\nit up and melt it down. Let us keep it in the wardrobe instead. It might\nbe very useful to us some day, if some one comes along, and we want to\nmarry.\" They were all of the same mind, but when they had carried the\nwood a while, it grew terribly heavy. And when they looked to see why\nthis was, the sticks of wood had turned into a little child, and before\nlong she had become the most beautiful princess imaginable. The maids\nsaw that there was some hocus-pocus about it, gave her clothes, ran off\nto fetch the youth who had been sent to find the most beautiful princess\nin twelve kingdoms, and told him their story. And when Mike by the\nStove arrived, the princess explained to him how everything had\nhappened, that the cook had thrown her into the pond, and that she had\nbeen the silver fish, the lump of silver, and the linden-tree, and the\nsticks of wood, and that she was the true princess. It was hard to get\nat the king, for the swart, homely cook was with him early and late; but\nat last they decided to tell him that a declaration of war had come\nfrom a neighboring monarch, and so they got him out. When he saw the\nbeautiful princess, he fell so deeply in love with her that he wanted to\nmarry her out of hand, and when he heard how badly the swart, homely\ncook had treated her, the latter was promptly punished. Then they held\na wedding that was heard of and talked about in twelve kingdoms.\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    The story of \"The Three Lemons\" is not a native Scandinavian\n    growth, but of foreign extraction (Asbjoernsen, _Norske\n    Folkeeventyr, Ny Samling_, Christiania, 1871, p. 22, No. 66), and\n    is a tale very popular in the Orient. Yet Asbjoernsen heard it from\n    a plain woman in Christiania, which would prove that it had become\n    naturalized in the North.\n\n\n\n\nIV\n\nTHE NEIGHBOR UNDERGROUND\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a peasant who lived in Telemarken, and had a\nbig farm; yet he had nothing but bad luck with his cattle, and at last\nlost his house and holding. He had scarcely anything left, and with the\nlittle he had, he bought a bit of land that lay off to one side, far\naway from the city, in the wildwood and the wilderness. One day, as he\nwas passing through his farm-yard, he met a man.\n\n\"Good-day, neighbor!\" said the man.\n\n\"Good-day,\" said the peasant, \"I thought I was all alone here. Are you\na neighbor of mine?\"\n\n\"You can see my homestead over yonder,\" said the man. \"It is not far\nfrom your own.\" And there lay a farm-holding such as he had never before\nseen, handsome and prosperous, and in fine condition. Then he knew very\nwell that this must be one of the underground people; yet he had no\nfear, but invited his neighbor in to drink a glass with him, and the\nneighbor seemed to enjoy it.\n\n\"Listen,\" said the neighbor, \"there is one thing you must do for me as\na favor.\"\n\n\"First let me know what it is,\" said the peasant.\n\n\"You must shift your cow-stable, because it is in my way,\" was the\nanswer he gave the peasant.\n\n\"No, I'll not do that,\" said the peasant. \"I put it up only this summer,\nand the winter is coming on. What am I to do with my cattle then?\"\n\n\"Well, do as you choose; but if you do not tear it down, you will live\nto regret it,\" said his neighbor. And with that he went his way.\n\nThe peasant was surprised at this, and did not know what to do. It\nseemed quite foolish to him to start in to tear down his stable when\nthe long winter night was approaching, and besides, he could not count\non help.\n\nOne day as he was standing in his stable, he sank through the ground.\nDown below, in the place to which he had come, everything was\nunspeakably handsome. There was nothing which was not of gold or of\nsilver. Then the man who had called himself his neighbor came along, and\nbade him sit down. After a time food was brought in on a silver platter,\nand mead in a silver jug, and the neighbor invited him to draw up to\nthe table and eat. The peasant did not dare refuse, and sat down at\nthe table; but just as he was about to dip his spoon into the dish,\nsomething fell down into his food from above, so that he lost his\nappetite. \"Yes, yes,\" said the man, \"now you can see why we don't like\nyour stable. We can never eat in peace, for as soon as we sit down to a\nmeal, dirt and straw fall down, and no matter how hungry we may be, we\nlose our appetites and cannot eat. But if you will do me the favor to\nset up your stable elsewhere, you shall never go short of pasture nor\ngood crops, no matter how old you may grow to be. But if you won't, you\nshall know naught but lean years all your life long.\"\n\nWhen the peasant heard that, he went right to work pulling down his\nstable, to put it up again in another place. Yet he could not have\nworked alone, for at night, when all slept, the building of the new\nstable went forward just as it did by day, and well he knew his neighbor\nwas helping him.\n\nNor did he regret it later, for he had enough of feed and corn, and his\ncattle waxed fat. Once there was a year of scarcity, and feed was so\nshort that he was thinking of selling or slaughtering half his herd. But\none morning, when the milk-maid went into the stable, the dog was gone,\nand with him all the cows and the calves. She began to cry and told the\npeasant. But he thought to himself, that it was probably his neighbor's\ndoings, who had taken the cattle to pasture. And sure enough, so it was;\nfor toward spring, when the woods grew green, he saw the dog come along,\nbarking and leaping, by the edge of the forest, and after him followed\nall the cows and calves, and the whole herd was so fat it was a pleasure\nto look at it.\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    \"The Neighbor Underground\" (Idem, p. 149, from Halland, told\n    Asbjoernsen by a Hallander whom he met at Bjoernsjo, fishing) will\n    not surprise the reader who knows the Danish tale of the \"Ale of\n    the Trolls.\" Now and again the underground folk and trolls show\n    themselves to be kind and grateful beings, when their wishes are\n    granted, and when they are not annoyed by obtrusive curiosity.\n\n\n\n\nV\n\nTHE SECRET CHURCH\n\n\nOnce the schoolmaster of Etnedal was staying in the mountains to fish.\nHe was very fond of reading, and so he always carried one book or\nanother along with him, with which he could lie down, and which he\nread on holidays, or when the weather forced him to stay in the little\nfishing-hut. One Sunday morning, as he was lying there reading, it\nseemed as though he could hear church bells; sometimes they sounded\nfaintly, as though from a great distance; at other times the sound\nwas clear, as though carried by the wind. He listened long and with\nsurprise; and did not trust his ears--for he knew that it was impossible\nto hear the bells of the parish church so far out among the hills--yet\nsuddenly they sounded quite clearly on his ear. So he laid aside his\nbook, stood up and went out. The sun was shining, the weather was fine,\nand one group of churchgoers after another passed him in their Sunday\nclothes, their hymn-books in their hands. A little further on in the\nforest, where he had never before seen anything but trees and brush,\nstood an old wooden church. After a time the priest came by, and he was\nso old and decrepit that his wife and daughter led him. And when they\ncame to the spot where the schoolmaster was standing, they stopped and\ninvited him to come to church and hear mass. The schoolmaster thought\nfor a moment; but since it occurred to him that it might be amusing to\nsee how these people worshiped God, he said he would go along, if he did\nnot thereby suffer harm. No, no harm should come to him, said they, but\nrather a blessing. In the church all went forward in a quiet and orderly\nmanner, there were neither dogs nor crying children to disturb the\nservice, and the singing was good--but he could not make out the words.\nWhen the priest had been led to the pulpit he delivered what seemed to\nthe listening schoolmaster a really fine and edifying sermon--but one,\nit appeared to him, of quite a peculiar trend of thought, which he was\nnot always able to follow. Nor did the \"Our Father in heaven ...\" sound\njust right, and the \"Deliver us from evil ...\" he did not hear at all.\nNor was the name of Jesus uttered; and at the close no blessing was\nspoken.\n\nWhen mass had been said, the schoolmaster was invited to the parsonage.\nHe gave the same answer he had already returned, that he would be glad\nto go if he suffered no harm thereby. And as before, they assured him\nhe would not lose; but rather gain thereby. So he went with them to the\nparsonage, just such an attractive and well-built parsonage like most in\nthe neighborhood. It had a garden with flowers and apple-trees, with a\nneat lattice fence around it. They invited him to dinner, and the dinner\nwas well cooked and carefully prepared. As before, he said that he would\ngladly accept their invitation, if he came to no harm thereby, and was\ngiven the same reply. So he ate with them, and said later that he had\nnoticed no difference between this food and the Christian dinner he had\nreceived when, once or twice, he had been asked to dinner by the priest\nof the village church. When he had drunk his coffee, the wife and\ndaughter drew him aside into another room, and the wife complained that\nher husband had grown so old and decrepit that he could not keep up much\nlonger. Then she began to say that the schoolmaster was such a strong\nand able man, and finally, that she and her daughter would like to\nhave him for priest, and whether he would not stay and succeed the old\nfather. The schoolmaster objected that he was no scholar. But they\ninsisted that he had more learning than was needed in their case, for\nthey never had any visits from the bishop, nor did the dean ever hold a\nchapter, for of all such things they knew nothing. When the schoolmaster\nheard that, he said that even though he had the necessary scholarship,\nhe doubted very much that he had the right vocation, and since this was\na most important matter for him and for them, it would be unwise to act\ntoo hurriedly, so he would ask for a year to think it over. When he had\nsaid that, he found himself standing by a pond in the wood, and could\nsee neither church nor parsonage. So he thought the matter was at an\nend. But a year later, just as the term he had set was up, he was\nworking on a house, for during the school vacation he busied himself\neither with fishing or carpentering. He was just straddling a wall when\nhe saw the pastor's daughter, the one whom he had seen in the mountains,\ncoming straight toward him. She asked him if he had thought over the\nmatter. \"Yes,\" said he, \"I have thought it over, but I cannot; since I\ncannot answer for it before God and my own conscience.\" That very moment\nthe pastor's daughter from underground vanished; but immediately after\nhe cut himself in the knee with the ax in such wise that he remained a\ncripple for life.\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    \"The Secret Church\" (Asbjoernsen, _Huldreeventyr_, I, 217, from\n    Valders, told by a pastor), impresses one with its weirdness,\n    in contrast to the preceding tale of friendly neighborly\n    understanding with the underground folk. In Norway stories are\n    still told of these churches in the wilderness, and of the chiming\n    of their bells, which are supposed to be of evil omen to those who\n    hear them. The idea of the church of ice, in Ibsen's \"Brand,\" may\n    have its root in such folk-tale.\n\n\n\n\nVI\n\nTHE COMRADE\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a peasant boy, who dreamed that he would get\na princess, from far, far away, and that she was as white as milk, and\nas red as blood, and so rich that her riches had no end. When he woke,\nit seemed to him as though she were still standing before him, and she\nwas so beautiful and winning that he could not go on living without her.\nSo he sold all that he had, and went forth to look for her. He wandered\nfar, and at last, in the winter-time, came into a land where the roads\nall ran in straight lines, and made no turns. After he had wandered\nstraight ahead for full three months, he came to a city. And there a\ngreat block of ice lay before the church door, and in the middle of it\nwas a corpse, and the whole congregation spat at it as the people passed\nby. This surprised the youth, and when the pastor came out of the\nchurch, he asked him what it meant. \"He was a great evil-doer,\" replied\nthe pastor, \"who has been executed because of his misdeeds, and has been\nexposed here in shame and derision.\" \"But what did he do?\" asked the\nyouth.\n\n\"During his mortal life he was a wine-dealer,\" answered the pastor,\n\"and he watered the wine he sold.\"\n\nThis did not strike the youth as being such a terrible crime. \"Even if\nhe had to pay for it with his life,\" said he, \"one might now grant him a\nChristian burial, and let him rest in peace.\" But the pastor said that\nthis could not be done at all; for people would be needed to break him\nout of the ice; and money would be needed to buy a grave for him from\nthe church; and the gravedigger would want to be paid for his trouble;\nand the sexton for tolling the bells; and the cantor for singing; and\nthe pastor himself for the funeral sermon.\n\n\"Do you think there is any one who would pay all that money for such an\narrant sinner's sake?\" inquired the pastor.\n\n\"Yes,\" said the youth. If he could manage to have him buried, he would\nbe willing to pay for the wake out of his own slender purse.\n\nAt first the pastor would hear nothing of it; but when the youth\nreturned with two men, and asked him in their presence whether he\nrefused the dead man Christian burial, he ventured no further\nobjections.\n\nSo they released the wine-dealer from his block of ice, and laid him in\nconsecrated ground. The bells tolled, and there was singing, and the\npastor threw earth on the coffin, and they had a wake at which tears and\nlaughter alternated. But when the youth had paid for the wake, he had\nbut a few shillings left in his pocket. Then he once more set out on\nhis way; but had not gone far before a man came up behind him, and\nasked him whether he did not find it tiresome to wander along all alone.\n\n\"No,\" said the youth, he always had something to think about. The man\nasked whether he did not need a servant.\n\n\"No,\" said the youth, \"I am used to serving myself, so I have no need of\na servant; and no matter how much I might wish for one, I still would\nhave to do without, since I have no money for his keep and pay.\"\n\n\"Yet you need a servant, as I know better than you do,\" said the man,\n\"and you need one upon whom you can rely in life and death. But if you\ndo not want me for a servant, then let me be your comrade. I promise\nthat you will not lose thereby, and I will not cost you a shilling. I\ntravel at my own expense, nor need you be put to trouble as regards my\nfood and clothing.\"\n\nUnder these circumstances the youth was glad to have him for a comrade,\nand they resumed their journey, the man as a rule going in advance and\npointing out the way.\n\nAfter they had wandered long through various lands, over hills and over\nheaths, they suddenly stood before a wall of rock. The comrade knocked,\nand begged to be let in. Then the rock opened before them, and after\nthey had gone quite a way into the interior of the hill, a witch came to\nmeet them and offered them a chair. \"Be so good as to sit down, for you\nmust be weary!\" said she.\n\n\"Sit down yourself!\" answered the man. Then she had to sit down and\nremain seated, for the chair had power to hold fast all that approached\nit. In the meantime they wandered about in the hill, and the comrade\nkept looking around until he saw a sword that hung above the door. This\nhe wanted to have, and he promised the witch that he would release her\nfrom her chair if she would let him have the sword.\n\n\"No,\" she cried, \"ask what you will. You can have anything else, but not\nthat, for that is my Three-Sisters Sword!\" (There were three sisters to\nwhom the sword belonged in common.) \"Then you may sit where you are till\nthe world's end!\" said the man. And when she heard that she promised to\nlet him have the sword, if he would release her.\n\nSo he took the sword, and went away with it; but he left her sitting\nthere, after all. When they had wandered far, over stony wastes and\ndesolate heaths, they again came to a wall of rock. There the comrade\nagain knocked, and begged to be let in. Just as before, the rock opened,\nand when they had gone far into the hill, a witch came to meet them with\na chair and bade them be seated, \"for you must be tired,\" said she.\n\n\"Sit down yourself!\" said the comrade. And what had happened to her\nsister happened to her, she had to seat herself, and could not get up\nagain. In the meantime the youth and his comrade went about in the hill,\nand the latter opened all the closets and drawers, until he found what\nhe had been searching for, a ball of golden twine. This he wished to\nhave, and promised he would release her from the chair if she would give\nit to him. She told him he might have all she possessed; but that she\ncould not give him the ball, since it was her Three-Sisters Ball. But\nwhen she heard that she would have to sit in the chair till the Day of\nJudgment, she changed her mind. Then the comrade took the ball, and in\nspite of it left her sitting where she was. Then they wandered for many\na day through wood and heath, until they came to a wall of rock. All\nhappened as it had twice before, the comrade knocked, the hill opened,\nand inside a witch came to meet them with a chair, and bade them sit\ndown. The two had gone through many rooms before the comrade spied an\nold hat hanging on a hook behind the door. The hat he must have, but the\nold witch would not part with it, since it was her Three-Sisters Hat,\nand if she gave it away she would be thoroughly unhappy. But when she\nheard that she would have to sit there until the Day of Judgment if she\ndid not give up the hat, she at last agreed to do so. The comrade took\nthe hat, and then told her to keep on sitting where she sat, like her\nsisters.\n\nAt length they came to a river. There the comrade took the ball of\ngolden twine and flung it against the hill on the other side of the\nriver with such force that it bounded back. And when it had flown back\nand forth several times, there stood a bridge, and when they had reached\nthe other side, the comrade told the youth to wind up the golden twine\nagain as swiftly as possible, \"for if we do not take it away quickly,\nthe three witches will cross and tear us to pieces.\" The youth wound as\nquickly as he could, and just as he was at the last thread, the witches\nrushed up, hissing, flung themselves into the water so that the foam\nsplashed high, and snatched at the end of the thread. But they could not\ngrasp it, and drowned in the river.\n\nAfter they had again wandered on for a few days, the comrade said: \"Now\nwe will soon reach the castle in which she lives, the princess of whom\nyou dreamed, and when we reach it, you must go to the castle and tell\nthe king what you dreamed, and your journey's aim.\" When they got there,\nthe youth did as he was told, and was very well received. He was given a\nroom for himself, and one for his servant, and when it was time to eat,\nhe was invited to the king's own table. When he saw the princess, he\nrecognized her at once as the vision of his dream. He told her, too, why\nhe was there, and she replied that she liked him quite well, and would\ngladly take him, but first he must undergo three tests. When they had\neaten, she gave him a pair of gold shears and said: \"The first test\nis that you take these shears and keep them, and give them back to me\nto-morrow noon. That is not a very severe test,\" she said, and smiled,\n\"but, if you cannot stand it, you must die, as the law demands, and you\nwill be in the same case as the suitors whose bones you may see lying\nwithout the castle gate.\"\n\n\"That is no great feat,\" thought the youth to himself. But the princess\nwas so merry and active, and so full of fun and nonsense, that he\nthought neither of the shears nor of himself, and while they were\nlaughing and joking, she secretly robbed him of the shears without his\nnoticing it. When he came to his room in the evening, and told what had\noccurred, and what the princess had said to him, and about the shears\nwhich she had given him to guard, his comrade asked: \"And have you still\nthe shears?\"\n\nThe youth looked through all his pockets; but his shears were not there,\nand he was more than unhappy when he realized that he had lost them.\n\n\"Well, well, never mind. I will see whether I can get them back for\nyou,\" said his comrade, and went down into the stable. There stood an\nenormous goat which belonged to the princess, and could fly through the\nair more swiftly than he could walk on level ground. The comrade took\nthe Three-Sisters Sword, gave him a blow between the horns, and asked:\n\"At what time does the princess ride to meet her lover to-night?\" The\ngoat bleated, and said he did not dare tell; but when the comrade had\ngiven him another thump, he did say that the princess would come at\neleven o'clock sharp. Then the comrade put on the Three-Sisters Hat,\nwhich made him invisible, and waited for the princess. When she came,\nshe anointed the goat with a salve she carried in a great horn, and\ncried out: \"Up, up! over gable and roof, over land and sea, over hill\nand dale, to my dearest, who waits for me in the hill!\"\n\nAs the goat flew upward, the comrade swung himself up in back, and\nthen they were off like the wind through the clouds: it was not a long\njourney. Suddenly they stood before a wall of rock, she knocked, and\nthen they took their way into the interior of the hill, to the troll who\nwas her dearest. \"And now a new suitor has come who wants to win me,\nsweetheart,\" said she. \"He is young and handsome, but I will have none\nbut you,\" she went on, and made a great time over the troll. \"I have set\nhim a test, and here are the shears that he was to keep and guard. You\nshall keep them now!\" Then both of them laughed as though the youth had\nalready lost his head. \"Yes, I will keep them, and take good care of\nthem, and a kiss from you shall pledge the truth, when crows are cawing\naround the youth!\" said the troll; and he laid the shears in an iron\nchest with three locks. But at the moment he was dropping the shears\ninto the chest, the comrade caught them up. None could see him, for he\nwas wearing the Three-Sisters Hat. So the troll carefully locked the\nempty chest, and put the key into a hollow double-tooth, where he kept\nother magic things. \"The suitor could hardly find it there,\" said he.\n\nAfter midnight the princess set out for home. The comrade swung himself\nup in back again, and the trip home did not take long.\n\nThe following noon the youth was invited to dine at the king's table.\nBut this time the princess kept her nose in the air, and was so haughty\nand snappish that she hardly condescended to glance in the youth's\ndirection. But after they had eaten, she looked very solemn, and asked\nin the sweetest manner: \"You probably still have the shears I gave you\nto take care of yesterday?\"\n\n\"Yes, here they are,\" said the youth; and he flung them on the table so\nthat they rang. The princess could not have been more frightened had he\nthrown the shears in her face. But she tried to make the best of a bad\nbargain, and said in a sweet voice: \"Since you have taken such good care\nof the shears, you will not find it hard to keep my ball of gold twine\nfor me. I should like to have it back by to-morrow noon; but if you\ncannot give it to me then, you must die, according to the law.\" The\nyouth thought it would not be so very hard, and put the ball of gold\ntwine in his pocket. Yet the princess once more began to toy and joke\nwith him, so that he thought neither of himself nor of the ball of gold\ntwine, and while they were in the midst of their merry play she stole\nthe golden ball from him, and then dismissed him.\n\nWhen he came up into his room, and told what she had said and done, his\ncomrade asked: \"And have you still the ball of gold twine?\"\n\n\"Yes, indeed,\" said the youth, and thrust his hand into the pocket in\nwhich he had placed it. But there was no ball in it, and he fell into\nsuch despair that he did not know what to do.\n\n\"Do not worry,\" said his comrade. \"I will see whether I cannot get it\nback for you.\" He took his sword and his hat, and went to a smith and\nhad him weld twelve extra pounds of iron to his sword. Then, when he\nentered the stable, he gave the goat such a blow between the horns with\nit that he staggered, and asked: \"At what time does the princess ride to\nher dearest to-night?\"\n\n\"At twelve o'clock sharp,\" said the goat.\n\nThe comrade once more put on his Three-Sisters Hat, and waited until the\nprincess came with the horn of ointment and anointed the goat. Then she\nrepeated what she had already said: \"Up, up! over gable and tower, over\nland and sea, over hill and dale, to my dearest who waits for me in the\nhill!\" And when the goat arose, the comrade swung himself up in back,\nand off they were like lightning through the air. Soon they had reached\nthe troll-hill, and when she had knocked thrice they passed through the\ninterior of the hill till they met the troll who was her dearest.\n\n\"What manner of care did you take of the golden shears I gave you\nyesterday, my friend?\" asked the princess. \"The suitor had them, and he\ngave them back to me.\"\n\nThat was quite impossible, said the troll, for he had locked them up in\na chest with three locks, and had thrust the key into his hollow tooth.\nBut when they had unlocked the chest and looked, there were no shears\nthere. Then the princess told him that she had now given him her ball of\ngolden twine.\n\n\"Here it is,\" said she. \"I took it away from him again without his\nhaving noticed it; but what are we to do if he is a master of such\narts?\"\n\nThe troll could not think of anything to suggest; but after they had\nreflected a while they hit on the idea of lighting a great fire, and\nburning the ball of gold twine, for then the suitor could surely not\nregain it. Yet when she threw it into the flames, the comrade leaped\nforward and caught it, without being seen, for he was wearing the\nThree-Sisters Hat. After the princess had stayed a little while she\nreturned home, and again the comrade sat up behind, and the trip home\nwas swiftly and safely made. When the youth was asked to the king's\ntable, the comrade gave him the ball. The princess was still more sharp\nand disdainful in her remarks than before, and after they had eaten she\npinched her lips, and said: \"Would it not be possible for me to get my\nball of gold twine again, which I gave you yesterday?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said the youth, \"you can have it; there it is!\" and he flung it\non the table with such a thud that the king leaped up in the air with\nfright.\n\nThe princess grew as pale as a corpse; but she made the best of a bad\nbargain, and said that he had done well. Now there was only one more\nlittle test for him to undergo. \"If you can bring me what I am thinking\nabout by to-morrow noon, then you may have me and keep me.\"\n\nThe youth felt as though he had been condemned to death; for it seemed\naltogether impossible for him to know of what the princess was thinking,\nand still more impossible to bring her the thing in question. And when\nhe came to his room his comrade could scarcely quiet him. He said he\nwould take the matter in hand, as he had done on the other occasions,\nand at last the youth grew calmer, and lay down to sleep. In the\nmeantime the comrade went to the smith, and had him weld an additional\ntwenty-four pounds of iron on his sword. When this had been done, he\nwent to the stable, and gave the goat such a smashing blow between the\nhorns that he flew to the other side of the wall.\n\n\"At what time does the princess ride to her dearest to-night?\" said he.\n\n\"At one o'clock sharp,\" bleated the goat.\n\nWhen the time came, the comrade was standing in the stable, wearing his\nThree-Sisters Hat, and after the princess had anointed the goat and\nspoken her formula, off they went through the air as before, with the\ncomrade sitting in back. But this time he was anything but gentle, and\nkept giving the princess a cuff here, and a cuff there, until she had\nreceived a terrible drubbing. When she reached the wall of rock, she\nknocked three times, the hill opened, and they flew through it to her\ndearest.\n\nShe complained bitterly to him, and said she would never have thought it\npossible that the weather could affect one so; it had seemed to her as\nthough some one were flying along with them, beating her and the goat,\nand her whole body must be covered with black and blue spots, so badly\nhad she been thrashed. And then she told how the suitor had again had\nthe ball of twine. How he had managed to get it, neither she nor the\ntroll could guess.\n\n\"But do you know the thought that came to me?\" said she. Of course the\ntroll did not.\n\n\"Well,\" said she, \"I have told him he is to bring me the thing I am\nthinking of by to-morrow noon, and that thing is your head. Do you\nthink, dear friend, that he will be able to bring it to me?\" and she\nmade a great time over the troll.\n\n\"I do not think he can,\" said the troll, who felt quite sure of himself,\nand laughed and chortled with pleasure in the most malicious way. For he\nand the princess were firmly convinced that the youth would be more apt\nto lose his own head, and be left to the ravens, than that he would be\nable to bring the princess the head of the troll.\n\nToward morning the princess wanted to fly home again, but she did not\nventure to ride alone; the troll must accompany her. He was quite ready\nto do so, took his goat from the stable--he had one just like that of\nthe princess--and anointed him between the horns. When the troll had\nmounted, the comrade swung up in back of him, and off they were through\nthe air in the direction of the king's castle. But on the way the\ncomrade beat away lustily at the troll and his goat, and gave him thump\nafter thump, and blow after blow with his sword, until they were flying\nlower and lower, and at last nearly fell into the sea across which their\njourney led them. When the troll noticed how stormy the weather was, he\naccompanied the princess to the castle, and waited outside to make sure\nthat she really came home safely. But the moment when the door closed on\nthe princess, the comrade hewed off his head, and went up with it to\nthe youth's room.\n\n\"Here is the thing of which the princess was thinking,\" said he. Then\neverything was in apple-pie order, and when the youth was invited to the\nking's table and they had eaten, the princess grew as merry as a lark.\n\"Have you, perhaps, the thing of which I was thinking?\" \"To be sure,\"\nsaid the youth, and he drew forth the head from beneath his coat, and\nflung it on the table so that the table and all that was on it fell\nover. The princess looked as though she had come from the grave; yet she\ncould not deny that this was the thing of which she had thought, and\nnow she had to take the youth, as she had promised. So the wedding was\ncelebrated, and there was great joy throughout the kingdom.\n\nBut the comrade took the youth aside, and said that on their\nwedding-night he might close his eyes and pretend to sleep, but that,\nif he loved his life, and followed his advice, he would not sleep a\nwink until the princess was freed from her troll-skin. He must whip it\noff with nine new switches of birch-wood, and strip it off with three\nmilk-baths beside; first he must scrub it off in a tub of year-old whey,\nthen he must rub it off in a tub of sour milk, and finally, he must\nsponge it off in a tub of sweet milk. He had laid the birch switches\nbeneath the bed, and had stood the tubs of milk in the corner; all was\nprepared. The youth promised to follow his advice, and do as he had\ntold him. When night came, and he lay in his bed, the princess raised\nherself on her elbows, to see if he were really asleep, and she tickled\nhim under the nose; but he was sleeping quite soundly. Then she pulled\nhis hair and his beard. But it seemed to her that he slept like a log.\nThen she drew a great butcher's knife out from beneath her pillow, and\nwanted to cut off his head. But the youth leaped up, struck the knife\nfrom her hand, seized her by the hair, whipped her with the switches,\nand did not stop until not one was left. Thereupon he threw her into the\ntub of whey, and then he saw what sort of creature she really was, for\nher whole body was coal-black. But when he had scrubbed her in the whey,\nand rubbed her in the sour milk, and sponged her in the sweet milk, the\ntroll-skin had altogether disappeared, and she was lovelier than she had\never been before.\n\nOn the following day the comrade said that now they must get on their\nway. The youth was ready to set forth, and the princess, too, for her\ndower had long since been made ready. During the night the comrade had\nbrought all the gold and silver, and all the valuables which the troll\nhad left in the hill to the castle, and when they wanted to start in\nthe morning, the castle court-yard was so full they could scarcely get\nthrough. The dower supplied by the troll was worth more than the king's\nwhole country, and they did not know how they were to take it home. But\nthe comrade found a way out of the difficulty. The troll had also left\nsix goats who could fly through the air. These he loaded so heavily\nwith gold and silver that they had to walk on the ground, and were not\nstrong enough to rise into the air; and what the goats could not carry,\nhad to be left at the castle. Thus they traveled for a long time, but at\nlast the goats grew so weary and wretched that they could go no further.\nThe youth and the princess did not know what to do; but when the comrade\nsaw that they could not move from the spot, he took the whole treasure\non his back, topped it with the goats, and carried it all until they\nwere no more than half a mile from the youth's home. Then the comrade\nsaid: \"Now I must part from you, for I can stay with you no longer.\" But\nthe youth would not hear of parting, and would not let him go at any\nprice.\n\nSo he went along another half mile, but further than that he could not\ngo, and when the youth pressed him, and insisted that he come home with\nhim, and stay there; or that he at least celebrate their home-coming,\nhe merely said no, he could not do so. Then the youth asked him what he\nwished in the way of payment for his company and aid. \"If I am to wish\nfor something, then I would like to have half of all that you may gain\nin the course of the next five years,\" said his comrade. And this was\npromised him.\n\nNow when the comrade had gone, the youth hid all his treasure, and went\nstraight home. And there they celebrated a home-coming feast that was\ntalked about in seven kingdoms; and when that was over they spent the\nwhole winter going back and forth with the goats, and his father's\ntwelve horses, bringing all the gold and silver home.\n\nAfter five years the comrade came again and asked for his share. Then\nthe man divided all his possessions into two equal parts.\n\n\"Yet there is one thing you have not divided,\" said the comrade.\n\n\"What could that be?\" asked the man. \"I thought I had divided\neverything.\"\n\n\"You have been blessed with a child,\" said the comrade, \"and that you\nmust also divide into two equal parts.\"\n\nYes, such was really the case. Then he took up his sword, but when he\nraised it and was about to divide the child, his comrade seized the\npoint of the sword so that he could not strike.\n\n\"Are you not happy, since you need not strike?\" said he.\n\n\"Yes, indeed, I never was happier,\" said the man.\n\n\"That is how happy I was when you delivered me out of the block of\nice,\" said the comrade. \"Keep all you have: I need nothing, for I am a\ndisembodied spirit.\" And he told him he was the wine-dealer who had lain\nin the block of ice before the church door, spat upon by all; and that\nhe had become his comrade, and had aided him, because the youth had\nsacrificed all he had in order that he might have peace, and a burial in\nconsecrated ground. He had been permitted to accompany him for the space\nof a year, and the time had run out when he had first parted with him.\nNow he had once more been allowed to visit him; yet on this occasion he\nwould have to part for all time, for the bells of heaven were calling\nhim.\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    In no event originally Norse, but thousands of years old, current\n    in many lands, and even recounted in the book of Tobias--though in\n    other words--is the story of the grateful dead man, \"The Comrade.\"\n    (Asbjoernsen, N.F.E., No. 100, p. 201. From Aadal, together with\n    variants from Valders and Aamot.)\n\n\n\n\nVII\n\nASPENCLOG\n\n\nAspenclog's mother was an aspen-tree. He slew the man who had chopped\nher down. Then he went to the king and asked whether he could give him\nwork. He wanted no other pay than the right to give the king three good\nthumps on the back when there was no more work for him to do. The king\nagreed to this condition, for he thought he would always have enough\nwork for him to do. Then he sent him to the forest to gather wood. But\nAspenclog piled up such a tremendous load that two horses could not pull\nthe wagon. So he took two polar bears, harnessed them to the wagon,\ndrove it home, and left the bears in the stable, where they ate up all\nthe king's cattle.\n\nThen he was told to keep a mill grinding which the evil one often\nbrought to a stop. No sooner had Aspenclog commenced to grind than, sure\nenough, the mill stopped. Aspenclog took a candle and made a search. No\ndoubt of it, the evil one had wedged his leg between the mill-stones. No\nsooner had Aspenclog seen the leg, than he chopped it off with his club.\nThen the evil one came hobbling up on one leg, and begged fearfully and\ntearfully for the leg he had lost. No, he could not have it, said the\nyouth, unless he gave him a bushel of money for it. But when the evil\none had to pay Aspenclog the money, he thought to cheat him, and said\nthat they would wager bushel against bushel, as to which of them could\nthrow the highest. They argued a while about which was to throw first.\nAt last Aspenclog had to begin. Now the evil one had a ball with which\nthey were to throw. Aspenclog stood a long time looking at the moon.\n\"Why do you do that?\" asked the evil one. \"Well, I would like to see\nwhether I cannot throw the ball into the moon,\" said Aspenclog. \"Do you\nsee those black spots? Those are the balls I have already thrown up into\nthe moon.\" Then the evil one was afraid of losing his ball, and he did\nnot dare to let Aspenclog throw.\n\nSo they wagered bushel against bushel as to which one of them could\nblow the highest note. \"You may blow first,\" said Aspenclog. \"No, you!\"\nFinally it was decided that Aspenclog should blow first. Then he went to\na hill, took an enormous fir-tree and wound it around his horn like a\nreed. \"Why do you do that?\" asked the evil one. \"Well, if I don't, the\nhorn will burst when I blow it,\" was Aspenclog's answer. Now the evil\none began to get frightened, and Aspenclog came home with half a ton of\nmoney.\n\nBut soon the king had no corn left to grind. And war broke out in the\nland. \"Now he will have work enough to last him a lifetime,\" thought the\nking. And he told Aspenclog to go out against the enemy. Aspenclog was\nquite ready to do so; but wanted to have plenty of provisions to take\nwith him. Then he set forth, and when he saw the enemy he sat down to\neat. The enemy shot at him as hard as they could, but their bullets did\nnot touch him. When Aspenclog had satisfied his hunger, he stood up,\ntore out an enormous oak by the roots, and lay about him with it. Before\nvery long he had hewn down all of the enemy. Then he went back home to\nthe king.\n\n\"Have you any more work for me?\" he asked. \"No, now I have no work\nleft,\" said the king. \"Then I will give you three good thumps on the\nback,\" said Aspenclog. The king begged permission to bolster himself up\nwith pillows. \"Yes, take as many as you want,\" said Aspenclog. Then he\nthumped, and at his first thump the king burst into pieces.\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    \"Aspenclog\" (Kristoffer Janson, _Folkeeventyr, uppskrivene i\n    Sandeherad_, Christiania, 1878, No. 8, p. 29) is a giant related\n    to Murmur Goose-Egg, of whom we have still to hear. The laconic\n    account of his origin is one of the beliefs of primitive peoples:\n    that the first human beings were descended from trees, and the\n    _Voluspa_ even calls the first two human beings Aspen and Elm (Ask\n    and Embla). Aspenclog is one of these mysterious tree-people.\n\n\n\n\nVIII\n\nTHE TROLL WEDDING\n\n\nOne summer, a long, long time ago, the folk of Melbustad went up to the\nhill pastures with their herd. But they had been there only a short time\nwhen the cattle began to grow so restless that it was impossible to keep\nthem in order. A number of different maidens tried to manage them, but\nwithout avail; until one came who was betrothed, and whose betrothal had\nbut recently been celebrated. Then the cattle suddenly quieted down, and\nwere easy to handle. So the maiden remained alone in the hills with no\nother company than a dog. And one afternoon as she sat in the hut, it\nseemed to her that her sweetheart came, sat down beside her, and began\nto talk about their getting married at once. But she sat still and made\nno reply, for she noticed a strangeness about him. By and by, more and\nmore people came in, and they began to cover the table with silverware,\nand bring on dishes, and the bridesmaids brought the bridal crown, and\nthe ornaments, and a handsome bridal gown, and they dressed her, and put\nthe crown on her head, as was the custom in those days, and they put\nrings on her hands.\n\nAnd it seemed to her as though she knew all the people who were there;\nthey were the women of the village, and the girls of her own age. But\nthe dog was well aware that there was something uncanny about it all.\nHe made his way down to Melbustad in flying leaps, and howled and barked\nin the most lamentable manner, and gave the people no rest until they\nfollowed him. The young fellow who was to marry the girl took his gun,\nand climbed the hills; and when he drew near, there stood a number of\nhorses around the hut, saddled and bridled. He crept up to the hut,\nlooked through a loop-hole in the wall, and saw a whole company sitting\ntogether inside. It was quite evident that they were trolls, the people\nfrom underground, and therefore he discharged his gun over the roof. At\nthat moment the doors flew open, and a number of balls of gray yarn, one\nlarger than the other, came shooting out about his legs. When he went\nin, there sat the maiden in her bridal finery, and nothing was missing\nbut the ring on her little finger, then all would have been complete.\n\n\"In heaven's name, what has happened here?\" he asked, as he looked\naround. All the silverware was still on the table, but all the tasty\ndishes had turned to moss and toadstools, and frogs and toads and the\nlike.\n\n\"What does it all mean?\" said he. \"You are sitting here in all your\nglory, just like a bride?\"\n\n\"How can you ask me?\" answered the maiden. \"You have been sitting here\nyourself, and talking about our wedding the whole afternoon!\"\n\n\"No, I have just come,\" said he. \"It must have been some one else who\nhad taken my shape!\"\n\nThen she gradually came to her senses; but not until long afterward was\nshe altogether herself, and she told how she had firmly believed that\nher sweetheart himself, and all their friends and relatives had been\nthere. He took her straight back to the village with him, and so that\nthey need fear no such deviltry in the future, they celebrated their\nwedding while she was still clad in the bridal outfit of the underground\nfolk. The crown and all the ornaments were hung up in Melbustad and it\nis said that they hang there to this very day.\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    Black jugglery and deception are practiced upon the poor\n    dairy-maid in \"The Troll Wedding\" (Asbjoernsen, _Huldreeventyr_, I,\n    p. 50. From Hadeland, told by a _Signekjarring_, a kind of wise\n    woman or herb doctress). Characteristic is the belief that troll\n    magic and witchery may be nullified if a gun be fired over the\n    place where it is supposed to be taking place. Then all reverts to\n    its original form. Curious, also, is the belief that trolls like\n    to turn into skeins of yarn when disturbed, and then roll swiftly\n    away.\n\n\n\n\nIX\n\nTHE HAT OF THE _HULDRES_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a big wedding at a certain farmstead, and a\ncertain cottager was on his way to the wedding-feast. As he chanced to\ncross a field, he found a milk-strainer, such as are usually made of\ncows' tails, and looking just like an old brown rag. He picked it up,\nfor he thought it could be washed, and then he would give it to his\nwife for a dish-rag. But when he came to the house where they were\ncelebrating the wedding, it seemed as though no one saw him. The bride\nand groom nodded to the rest of the guests, they spoke to them and\npoured for them; but he got neither greeting nor drink. Then the chief\ncook came and asked the other folk to sit down to the table; but he was\nnot asked, nor did he get anything to eat. For he did not care to sit\ndown of his own accord when no one had asked him. At last he grew angry\nand thought: \"I might as well go home, for not a soul pays a bit of\nattention to me here.\" When he reached home, he said: \"Good evening,\nhere I am back again.\"\n\n\"For heaven's sake, are you back again?\" asked his wife.\n\n\"Yes, there was no one there who paid any attention to me, or even so\nmuch as looked at me,\" said the man, \"and when people show me so little\nconsideration, it seems as though I have nothing to look for there.\"\n\n\"But where are you? I can hear you, but I cannot see you!\" cried his\nwife.\n\nThe man was invisible, for what he had found was a _huldre_ hat.\n\n\"What are you talking about? Can't you see me? Have you lost your wits?\"\nasked the man. \"There is an old hair strainer for you. I found it\noutside on the ground,\" said he, and he threw it on the bench. And\nthen his wife saw him; but at the same moment the hat of the _huldres_\ndisappeared, for he should only have loaned it, not given it away.\nNow the man saw how everything had come about, and went back to the\nwedding-feast. And this time he was received in right friendly fashion,\nand was asked to drink, and to seat himself at the table.\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    A favorite jewel among the treasures of the underground world\n    plays the leading part of the tale: \"The Hat of the _Huldres_\"\n    (Asbjoernsen, _Huldreeventyr_, I, p. 157; from the vicinity of\n    Eidsvold, told by an old peasant woman). Often appearing in\n    legend proper as the tarn-cap, it here finds a more humble place\n    in everyday life, neither ennobled by legendary dignity, nor\n    diversified by the rich incident of fairy-tale. The entertaining\n    picture here afforded of its powers shows them all the more\n    clearly.\n\n\n\n\nX\n\nTHE CHILD OF MARY\n\n\nFar, far from here, in a great forest, there once lived a poor couple.\nHeaven blessed them with a charming little daughter; but they were so\npoor they did not know how they were going to get her christened. So her\nfather had to go forth to see whether he could not find a god-father\nto pay for the child's christening. All day long he went from one to\nanother; but no one wanted to be the god-father. Toward evening, as he\nwas going home, he met a very lovely lady, who wore the most splendid\nclothes, and seemed most kind and friendly, and she offered to see that\nthe child was christened, if she might be allowed to keep it afterward.\nThe man replied that first he must ask his wife. But when he reached\nhome and asked her she gave him a flat \"no.\" The following day the man\nset out again; but no one wanted to be the god-father if he had to pay\nfor the christening himself, and no matter how hard the man begged, it\nwas all of no avail. When he went home that evening, he again met the\nlovely lady, who looked so gentle, and she made him the same offer as\nbefore. The man again told his wife what had happened to him, and added\nthat if he could not find a god-father for his child the following day,\nthey would probably have to let the lady take her, since she seemed to\nbe so kind and friendly. The man then went out for the third time, and\nfound no god-father that day. And so, when he once more met the friendly\nlady in the evening, he promised to let her have the child, if she would\nsee that it was baptized. The following morning the lady came to the\nman's hut, and with her two other men. She then took the child and went\nto church with it, and it was baptized. Then she took it with her,\nand the little girl remained with her for several years, and her\nfoster-mother was always good and kind to her.\n\nNow when the girl had grown old enough to make distinctions, and had\nacquired some sense, it chanced that her foster-mother once wished to\ntake a journey. \"You may go into any room you wish,\" she said to the\ngirl, \"only you are not to go into these three rooms,\" and then she set\nout on her journey. But the girl could not resist opening the door\nto the one room a little way--and swish! out flew a star. When her\nfoster-mother came home, she was much grieved to find that the star had\nflown out, and was so annoyed with her foster-child that she threatened\nto send her away. But the girl pleaded and cried, until at last she was\nallowed to remain.\n\nAfter a time the foster-mother wanted to take another journey, and she\nforbade the girl, above all, to go into the two rooms which, as yet, she\nhad not entered. And the girl promised her that this time she would obey\nher. But when she had been alone for some time, and had had all sorts\nof thoughts as to what there might be in the second room, she could no\nlonger resist opening the second door a little way--and swish! out flew\nthe moon. When the foster-mother returned, and saw the moon had slipped\nout, she again grieved greatly, and told the girl she could keep her no\nlonger, and that now she must go. But when the girl again began to cry\nbitterly, and pleaded with such grace that it was impossible to deny\nher, she was once more allowed to remain.\n\nAfter this the foster-mother wished to take another journey, and she\ntold the girl, who was now more than half-grown, that she must take\nher request not to go, or even so much as peep into the third room,\nseriously to heart. But when the foster-mother had been away for some\ntime, and the girl was all alone and bored, she could at last resist no\nlonger. \"O,\" thought she, \"how pleasant it would be to take a peep into\nthat third room!\" It is true, that at first she thought she would not do\nit, because of her foster-mother; yet when the thought returned to her,\nshe could not hold back, after all; but decided that she should and\nmust by all means take a peep. So she opened the door the least little\nbit--and swish! out flew the sun. When the foster-mother then returned,\nand saw that the sun had flown out, she grieved greatly, and told\nthe girl that now she could positively stay with her no longer. The\nfoster-daughter cried and pleaded even more touchingly than before; but\nall to no avail. \"No, I must now punish you,\" said the foster-mother.\n\"But you shall have your choice of either becoming the most beautiful\nof all maidens, without the power of speech, or the most homely, yet\nable to talk. But you must leave this place.\" The girl said: \"Then I\nwould rather be the most beautiful of maidens without the power of\nspeech\"--and such she became, but from that time on she was dumb.\n\nNow when the girl had left her foster-mother, and had wandered for a\ntime, she came to a large, large wood, and no matter how far she went\nshe could not reach its end. When evening came, she climbed into a high\ntree that stood over a spring, and sat down in its branches to sleep.\nNot far from it stood a king's castle, and early the next morning a\nserving-maid came from it, to get water from the spring for the prince's\ntea. And when the serving-maid saw the lovely face in the spring, she\nthought it was her own. At once she threw down her pail and ran back\nhome holding her head high, and saying: \"If I am as beautiful as all\nthat, I am too good to carry water in a pail!\" Then another was sent to\nfetch water, but the same thing happened with her; she, too, came back\nand said she was far too handsome and too good to go to the spring and\nfetch water for the prince. Then the prince went himself, for he wanted\nto see what it all meant. And when he came to the spring, he also saw\nthe picture, and at once looked up into the tree. And so he saw the\nlovely maiden who was seated among its branches. He coaxed her down,\ntook her back home with him, and nothing would do but that she must be\nhis bride, because she was so beautiful. But his mother, who was still\nliving, objected: \"She cannot speak,\" said she, \"and, maybe, she\nbelongs to the troll-folk.\" But the prince would not be satisfied until\nhe had won her. When, after a time, heaven bestowed a child upon the\nqueen, the prince set a strong guard about her. But suddenly they all\nfell asleep, and her foster-mother came, cut the child's little finger,\nrubbed some of the blood over the mouth and hands of the queen, and\nsaid: \"Now you shall grieve just as I did when you let the star slip\nout!\" And with that she disappeared with the child. When those whom the\nprince had set to keep guard opened their eyes again, they thought that\nthe queen had devoured her child, and the old queen wanted to have her\nburned; but the prince loved her so very tenderly, that after much\npleading he succeeded in having her saved from punishment, though only\nwith the greatest difficulty.\n\n  [Illustration: \"AND SO HE SAW THE LOVELY MAIDEN WHO WAS SEATED AMONG\n  ITS BRANCHES.\"\n                                                      --_Page 59_]\n\nWhen heaven gave her a second child, a guard of twice as many men as had\nfirst stood watch was again set about her; yet everything happened as\nbefore, only that this time the foster-mother said to her: \"Now you\nshall grieve as I did when you let the moon slip out!\" The queen wept\nand pleaded--for when the foster-mother was there she could speak--but\nwithout avail. Now the old queen insisted that she be burned. But the\nprince once more succeeded in begging her free. When heaven gave her a\nthird child, a three-fold guard was set about her. The foster-mother\ncame while the guard slept, took the child, cut its little finger, and\nrubbed some of the blood on the queen's mouth. \"Now,\" said she, \"you\nshall grieve just as I did when you let the sun slip out!\" And now the\nprince could in no way save her, she was to be and should be burned.\nBut at the very moment when they were leading her to the stake, the\nfoster-mother appeared with all three children; the two older ones she\nled by the hand, the youngest she carried on her arm. She stepped up to\nthe young queen and said: \"Here are your children, for now I give them\nback to you. I am the Virgin Mary, and the grief that you have felt is\nthe same grief that I felt aforetimes, when you had let the star, the\nmoon and the sun slip out. Now you have been punished for that which you\ndid, and from now on the power of speech is restored to you!\"\n\nThe happiness which then filled the prince and princess may be imagined,\nbut cannot be described. They lived happily together ever after, and\nfrom that time forward even the prince's mother was very fond of the\nyoung queen.\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    \"The Child of Mary\" (Asbjoernsen, and Moe, N.F.E., p. 34, No. 8,\n    taken from the Bresemann translation [1847]), is a pious\n    fairy-tale, which is also current in Germany; a good fairy often\n    takes the place of the Virgin Mary.\n\n\n\n\nXI\n\nSTORM MAGIC\n\n\nThe cabin-boy had been traveling around all summer long with his\ncaptain; but when they began to prepare to set sail in the fall, he grew\nrestless and did not want to go along. The captain liked him, for though\nhe was no more than a boy, he was quite at home on deck, was a big, tall\nlad, and did not mind lending a hand when need arose; then, too, he did\nas much work as an able seaman, and was so full of fun that he kept the\nwhole crew in good humor. And so the captain did not like to lose him.\nBut the youth said out and out that he was not minded to take to the\nblue pond in the fall; though he was willing to stay on board till\nthe ship was loaded and ready to sail. One Sunday, while the crew was\nashore, and the captain had gone to a farm-holding near the forest, in\norder to bargain for small timber and log wood--presumably on his own\naccount--for a deck load, the youth had been left to guard the ship.\nBut you must know that he was a Sunday child, and had found a four-leaf\nclover; and that was the reason he had the second sight. He could see\nthose who are invisible, but they could not see him.\n\nAnd as he was sitting there in the forward cabin, he heard voices\nwithin the ship. He peered through a crack, and there were three\ncoal-black crows sitting inside the deck-beams, and they were talking\nabout their husbands. All three were tired of them, and were planning\ntheir death. One could see at once that they were witches, who had\nassumed another form.\n\n\"But is it certain that there is no one here who can overhear us?\" said\none of the crows. And by the way she spoke the cabin-boy knew her for\nthe captain's wife.\n\n\"No, you can see there's not,\" said the others, the wives of the first\nand second quartermasters. \"There is not a soul aboard.\"\n\n\"Well, then I do not mind saying that I know of a good way to get rid of\nthem,\" said the captain's wife once more, and hopped closer to the two\nothers. \"We will turn ourselves into breakers, wash them into the sea,\nand sink the ship with every man on board.\"\n\nThat pleased the others, and they sat there a long time discussing the\nday and the fairway. \"But is it certain that no one can overhear us?\"\nonce more asked the captain's wife.\n\n\"You know that such is the case,\" said the two others.\n\n\"Well, there is a counter-spell for what we wish to do, and if it is\nused, it will go hard with us, for it will cost us nothing less than our\nlives!\"\n\n\"What is the counter-spell, sister,\" asked the wife of the one\nquartermaster.\n\n\"Is it certain that no one is listening to us? It seemed to me as though\nsome one were smoking in the forward cabin.\"\n\n\"But you know we looked in every corner. They just forgot to let the\nfire go out in the caboose, and that is why there's smoke,\" said the\nquartermaster's wife, \"so tell away.\"\n\n\"If they buy three cords of birch-wood,\" said the witch,--\"but it must\nbe full measure, and they must not bargain for it--and throw the first\ncord into the water, billet by billet, when the first breaker strikes,\nand the second cord, billet by billet, when the second breaker strikes,\nand the third cord, billet by billet, when the third breaker strikes,\nthen it is all up with us!\"\n\n\"Yes, that's true, sister, then it is all up with us! Then it is all up\nwith us!\" said the wives of the quartermasters; \"but there is no one who\nknows it,\" they cried, and laughed loudly, and with that they flew out\nof the hatchway, screaming and croaking like ravens.\n\nWhen it came time to sail, the cabin-boy would not go along for anything\nin the world; and all the captain's coaxing, and all his promises were\nuseless, nothing would tempt him to go. At last they asked him whether\nhe were afraid, because fall was at hand, and said he would rather hide\nbehind the stove, hanging to mother's apron strings. No, said the youth,\nhe was not afraid, and they could not say that they had ever seen him\nshow a sign of so land-lubberly a thing as fear; and he was willing to\nprove it to them, for now he was going along with them, but he made\nit a condition that three cords of birch-wood were to be bought, full\nmeasure, and that on a certain day he was to have command, just as\nthough he himself were the captain. The captain asked what sort of\nnonsense this might be, and whether he had ever heard of a cabin-boy's\nbeing entrusted with the command of a ship. But the boy answered that\nwas all one to him; if they did not care to buy the three cords of\nbirch-wood, and obey him, as though he were captain, for the space of a\nsingle day--the captain and crew should know which day it was to be in\nadvance--then he would set foot on the ship no more, and far less would\nhe ever dirty his hands with pitch and tar on her again. The whole thing\nseemed strange to the captain, yet he finally gave in, because he wanted\nto have the boy along with him and, no doubt, he also thought that\nhe would come to his senses again when they were once under way. The\nquartermaster was of the same opinion. \"Just let him command all he\nlikes, and if things go wrong with him, we'll help him out,\" said he. So\nthe birch-wood was bought, full-measure and without haggling, and they\nset sail.\n\nWhen the day came on which the cabin-boy was to take command, the\nweather was fair and quiet; but he drummed up the whole ship's crew, and\nwith the exception of a tiny bit of canvas, had all sails reefed. The\ncaptain and crew laughed at him, and said: \"That shows the sort of a\ncaptain we have now. Don't you want us to reef that last bit of sail\nthis very minute?\" \"Not yet,\" answered the cabin-boy, \"but before long.\"\n\nSuddenly a squall struck them, struck them so heavily that they thought\nthey would capsize, and had they not reefed the sails they would\nundoubtedly have foundered when the first breaker roared down upon the\nship.\n\nThe boy ordered them to throw the first cord of birch-wood overboard,\nbillet by billet, one at a time and never two, and he did not let them\ntouch the other two cords. Now they obeyed him to the letter, and did\nnot laugh; but cast out the birch-wood billet by billet. When the last\nbillet fell they heard a groaning, as though some one were wrestling\nwith death, and then the squall had passed.\n\n\"Heaven be praised!\" said the crew--and the captain added: \"I am going\nto let the company know that you saved ship and cargo.\"\n\n\"That's all very well, but we are not through yet,\" said the boy, \"there\nis worse to come,\" and he told them to reef every last rag, as well as\nwhat had been left of the topsails. The second squall hit them with even\ngreater force than the first, and was so vicious and violent that the\nwhole crew was frightened. While it was at its worst, the boy told them\nto throw overboard the second cord; and they threw it over billet by\nbillet, and took care not to take any from the third cord. When the last\nbillet fell, they again heard a deep groan, and then all was still. \"Now\nthere will be one more squall, and that will be the worst,\" said the\nboy, and sent every one to his station. There was not a hawser loose on\nthe whole ship.\n\nThe last squall hit them with far more force than either of the\npreceding ones, the ship laid over on her side so that they thought she\nwould not right herself again, and the breaker swept over the deck.\n\nBut the boy told them to throw the last cord of wood overboard, billet\nby billet, and no two billets at once. And when the last billet of wood\nfell, they heard a deep groaning, as though some one were dying hard,\nand when all was quiet once more, the whole sea was the color of blood,\nas far as eye could reach.\n\nWhen they reached land, the captain and the quartermasters spoke of\nwriting to their wives. \"That is something you might just as well let\nbe,\" said the cabin-boy, \"seeing that you no longer have any wives.\"\n\n\"What silly talk is this, young know-it-all! We have no wives?\" said the\ncaptain. \"Or do you happen to have done away with them?\" asked the\nquartermasters.\n\n\"No, all of us together did away with them,\" answered the boy, and told\nthem what he had heard and seen that Sunday afternoon when he was on\nwatch on the ship; while the crew was ashore, and the captain was buying\nhis deckload of wood.\n\nAnd when they sailed home they learned that their wives had disappeared\nthe day of the storm, and that since that time no one had seen or heard\nanything more of them.\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    A weird tale of the sea and of witches is that of \"Storm Magic\"\n    (Asbjoernsen, _Huldreeventyr_, I, p. 248. From the vicinity of\n    Christiania, told by a sailor, Rasmus Olsen). In the \"Fritjof\n    Legend\" the hero has a similar adventure at sea with two witches,\n    who call up a tremendous storm. It would be interesting to know\n    the inner context of the cabin-boy's counter magic, and why it is\n    that the birch-wood, cast into the sea billet by billet, had the\n    power to destroy the witches.\n\n\n\n\nXII\n\nTHE FOUR-SHILLING PIECE\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a poor woman, who lived in a wretched hut far\naway from the village. She had but little to bite and less to burn, so\nshe sent her little boy to the forest to gather wood. He skipped and\nleaped, and leaped and skipped, in order to keep warm, for it was a\ncold, gray autumn day, and whenever he had gathered a root or a branch\nto add to his bundle, he had to slap his arms against his shoulders, for\nthe cold made his hands as red as the whortleberry bushes over which he\nwalked. When he had filled his barrow, and was wandering homeward, he\ncrossed a field of stubble. There he saw lying a jagged white stone. \"O,\nyou poor old stone, how white and pale you are! You must be freezing\nterribly!\" said the boy; took off his jacket, and laid it over the\nstone. And when he came back home with his wood, his mother asked\nhim how it was that he was going around in the autumn cold in his\nshirt-sleeves. He told her that he had seen a jagged old stone, quite\nwhite and pale with the frost, and that he had given it his jacket. \"You\nfool,\" said the woman, \"do you think a stone can freeze? And even if it\nhad chattered with frost, still, charity begins at home. Your clothes\ncost enough as it is, even when you don't hang them on the stones out\nin the field!\"--and with that she drove the boy out again to fetch his\njacket. When he came to the stone, the stone had turned around, and had\nraised itself from the ground on one side. \"Yes, and I'm sure it is\nbecause you have the jacket, poor fellow!\" said the boy. But when he\nlooked more closely, there was a chest full of bright silver coins under\nthe stone. \"That must be stolen money,\" thought the boy, \"for no one\nlays money honestly earned under stones in the wood.\" And he took the\nchest, and carried it down to the pond nearby, and threw in the whole\npile of money. But a four-shilling piece was left swimming on the top\nof the water. \"Well, this one is honest, for whatever is honest will\nfloat,\" said the boy. And he took the four-shilling piece and the jacket\nhome with him. He told his mother what had happened to him, that the\nstone had turned around, and that he had found a chest full of silver\ncoins, and had thrown it into the pond because it was stolen money. \"But\na four-shilling piece floated, and that I took along, because it was\nhonest,\" said the boy. \"You are a fool,\" said the woman--for she was as\nangry as could be--\"if nothing were honest save what floats on the\nwater, there would be but little honesty left in the world. And if\nthe money had been stolen ten times over, still you had found it, and\ncharity begins at home. If you had kept the money, we might have passed\nthe rest of our lives in peace and comfort. But you are a dunderhead and\nwill stay a dunderhead, and I won't be tormented and burdened with you\nany longer. Now you must get out and earn your own living.\"\n\nSo the boy had to go out into the wide world, and wandered about far\nand near looking for service. But wherever he went people found him too\nsmall or too weak, and said that they could make no use of him. At last\nhe came to a merchant. There they kept him to work in the kitchen, and\nhe had to fetch wood and water for the cook. When he had been there for\nsome time, the merchant decided to journey to far countries, and asked\nall his servants what he should buy and bring back home for them.\nAfter all had told him what they wanted, came the turn of the little\nfellow who carried wood and water for the kitchen. He handed him his\nfour-shilling piece. \"Well, and what am I to buy for it?\" asked the\nmerchant. \"It will not be a large purchase.\" \"Buy whatever it will\nbring, it is honest money, that I know,\" said the boy. His master\npromised to do so, and sailed away.\n\nNow when the merchant had discharged his cargo in foreign parts and had\nreloaded, and had bought what his servants had desired, he went back to\nhis ship, and was about to shove off. Not until then did he remember\nthat the scullion had given him a four-shilling piece, with which to\nbuy him something. \"Must I go up to the city again because of this\nfour-shilling piece? One only has one's troubles when one bothers with\nsuch truck,\" thought the merchant. Then along came a woman with a bag on\nher back. \"What have you in your bag, granny?\" asked the merchant. \"O,\nit is only a cat! I can feed her no longer, and so I want to throw her\ninto the sea in order to get rid of her,\" said the old woman. \"The boy\ntold me to buy whatever I could get for the four-shilling piece,\" said\nthe merchant to himself, and asked the woman whether he could have her\ncat for four shillings. The woman agreed without delay, and the bargain\nwas closed.\n\nNow when the merchant had sailed on for a while, a terrible storm broke\nloose, a thunderstorm without an equal, and he drifted and drifted, and\ndid not know where or whither. At last he came to a land where he had\nnever yet been, and went up into the city.\n\nIn the tavern which he entered the table was set, and at every place lay\na switch, one for each guest. This seemed strange to the merchant, for\nhe could not understand what was to be done with all the switches. Yet\nhe sat down and thought: \"I will watch carefully, and see just what the\nrest do with them, and then I can imitate them.\" Yes, and when the food\ncame on the table, then he knew why the switches were there: the place\nwas alive with thousands of mice, and all who were sitting at the table\nhad to work and fight and beat about them with their switches, and\nnothing could be heard but the slapping of the switches, one worse than\nthe other. Sometimes people hit each other in the face, and then they\nhad to take time to say, \"Excuse me!\"\n\n\"Eating is hard work in this country,\" said the merchant. \"How is it\nthe folk here have no cats?\" \"Cats?\" said the people: they did not know\nwhat they were. Then the merchant had the cat that he had bought for the\nscullion brought, and when the cat went over the table, the mice had to\nhurry into their holes, and not in the memory of man had the people been\nable to eat in such comfort. Then they begged and implored the merchant\nto sell them his cat. At last he said he would let them have her; but he\nwanted a hundred dollars for her, and this they paid, and thanked him\nkindly into the bargain.\n\nThen the merchant sailed on, but no sooner had he reached the high seas\nthan he saw the cat sitting at the top of the main-mast. And immediately\nafter another storm and tempest arose, far worse than the first one, and\nhe drifted and drifted, till he came to a land where he had never yet\nbeen. Again the merchant went to a tavern, and here, too, the table was\ncovered with switches; but they were much larger and longer than at the\nplace where he had first been. And they were much needed; for there were\na good many more mice, and they were twice the size of those he had\nfirst seen.\n\nHere he again sold his cat, and this time he received two hundred\ndollars for her, and that without any haggling. But when he had sailed\noff and was out at sea a way, there sat the cat up in the mast. And the\nstorm at once began again, and finally he was again driven to a land in\nwhich he had never been. Again he turned in at a tavern, and there the\ntable was also covered with switches; but every switch was a yard and a\nhalf long, and as thick as a small broom, and the people told him that\nthey knew of nothing more disagreeable than to sit down to eat, for\nthere were great, ugly rats by the thousand. Only with toil and trouble\ncould one manage to shove a bite of something into one's mouth once in a\nwhile, so hard was it to defend oneself against the rats. Then the cat\nwas again brought from the ship, and now the people could eat in peace.\nThey begged and pleaded that the merchant sell them his cat; and for a\nlong time he refused; but at last he promised that they should have her\nfor three hundred dollars. And they paid him, and thanked him, and\nblessed him into the bargain.\n\nNow when the merchant was out at sea again, he considered how much the\nboy had gained with the four-shilling piece he had given him. \"Well, he\nshall have some of the money,\" said the merchant to himself, \"but not\nall of it. For he has to thank me for the cat, which I bought for him,\nand charity begins at home.\"\n\nBut while the merchant was thinking these thoughts, such a storm and\ntempest arose that all thought the ship would sink. Then the merchant\nrealized that there was nothing left for him to do but to promise that\nthe boy should have all the money. No sooner had he made his vow, than\nthe weather turned fair, and he had a favoring wind for his journey\nhome. And when he landed, he gave the youth the six hundred dollars and\nhis daughter to boot. For now the scullion was as rich as the merchant\nhimself and richer, and thereafter he lived in splendor and happiness.\nAnd he took in his mother and treated her kindly. \"For I do not believe\nthat charity begins at home,\" said the youth.\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    \"The Honest Four-Shilling Piece\" (Asbjoernsen and Moe, N.F.E.,\n    p. 306, No. 59) stands for the idealization of childish simplicity\n    and honesty, which after much travail, and despite the ill-will of\n    the \"experienced,\" comes into its deserved own.\n\n\n\n\nXIII\n\nTHE MAGIC APPLES\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a lad who was better off than all the others.\nHe was never short of money, for he had a purse which was never empty.\nHe never was short of food, for he had a table-cloth on which, as soon\nas he spread it, he found all he wanted to eat and drink. And, besides,\nhe had a magic wishing cap. When he put it on he could wish himself\nwherever he wanted, and there he would be that very moment.\n\nThere was only one thing that he lacked: he had no wife, and he was\ngradually coming into the years when it would be necessary for him to\nmake haste.\n\nAs he was walking sadly along one fine day, it occurred to him to wish\nhimself where he would find the most beautiful princess in the world. No\nsooner had he thought of it than he was there. And it was a land which\nhe had never yet seen, and a city in which he had never yet been. And\nthe king had a daughter, so handsome that he had never yet beheld her\nlike, and he wanted to have her on the spot. But she would have nothing\nto do with him, and was very haughty.\n\nFinally he despaired altogether, and was so beside himself that he could\nno longer be where she was not. So he took his magic cap and wished\nhimself into the castle. He wanted to say good-by, so he said. And she\nlaid her hand in his. \"I wish we were far beyond the end of the world!\"\nsaid the youth, and there they were. But the king's daughter wept, and\nbegged to be allowed to go home again. He could have all the gold and\nsilver in the castle in return. \"I have money enough for myself,\" said\nthe youth, and he shook his purse so that money just rolled about. He\ncould sit down at the royal table and eat the finest food, and drink the\nfinest wines, said she. \"I have enough to eat and drink myself,\" said\nthe youth. \"See, you can sit down at the table,\" said he, and at once he\nspread his table-cloth. And there stood a table covered with the best\none might wish; and the king himself ate no better.\n\nAfter they had eaten, the king's daughter said: \"O, do look at the\nhandsome apples up there on the tree! If you were really kind, you would\nfetch me down a couple of them!\" The youth was not lazy, and climbed up.\nBut he had forgotten his table-cloth and his purse, and these she took.\nAnd while he was shaking down the apples his cap fell off. She at once\nput it on and wished herself back in her own room, and there she was\nthat minute.\n\n\"You might have known it,\" said the youth to himself, and hurried down\nthe tree. He began to cry and did not know what to do. And as he was\nsitting there, he sampled the apples which he had thrown down. No sooner\nhad he tried one than he had a strange feeling in his head, and when he\nlooked more closely, he had a pair of horns. \"Well, now it can do me no\nmore harm,\" said he, and calmly went on eating the apples. But suddenly\nthe horns had disappeared, and he was as before. \"Good enough!\" said the\nyouth. And with that he put the apples in his pocket, and set out to\nsearch for the king's daughter.\n\nHe went from city to city, and sailed from country to country; but it\nwas a long journey, and lasted a year and a day, and even longer.\n\nBut one day he got there after all. It was a Sunday, and he found out\nthat the king's daughter was at church. Then he sat himself down with\nhis apples before the church door, and pretended to be a peddler.\n\"Apples of Damascus! Apples of Damascus!\" he cried. And sure enough, the\nking's daughter came, and told her maidens to go and see what desirable\nthings the peddler from abroad might have to offer. Yes, he had apples\nof Damascus. \"What do the apples give one?\" asked the maiden. \"Wisdom\nand beauty!\" said the peddler, and the maiden bought.\n\nWhen the king's daughter had eaten of the apples, she had a pair of\nhorns. And then there was such a wailing in the castle that it was\npitiful to hear. And the castle was hung with black, and in the whole\nkingdom proclamation was made from all pulpits that whoever could help\nthe king's daughter should get her, and half the kingdom besides. Then\nTom, Dick and Harry, and the best physicians in the country came along.\nBut none of them could help the princess.\n\nBut one day a foreign doctor from afar came to court. He was not from\ntheir country, he said, and had made the journey purposely just to try\nhis luck here. But he must see the king's daughter alone, said he, and\npermission was granted him.\n\nThe king's daughter recognized him, and grew red and pale in turn. \"If\nI help you now, will you marry me?\" asked the youth. Yes, indeed she\nwould. Then he gave her one of the magic apples, and her horns were only\nhalf as large as before. \"But I cannot do more until I have my cap,\nand my table-cloth, and my purse back again,\" said he. So she went and\nbrought him the things. Then he gave her still another magic apple, and\nnow the horns were no more than tiny hornlets. \"But now I cannot go on\nuntil you have sworn that you will be true to me,\" said he. And she\nswore that she would. And after she had eaten the third apple, her\nforehead was quite smooth again, and she was even more beautiful than\nin days gone by.\n\nThen there was great joy in the castle. They prepared for the wedding\nwith baking and brewing, and invited people from East and West to come\nto it. And they ate and drank, and were merry and of good cheer, and if\nthey have not stopped, they are merry and of good cheer to this very\nday!\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    \"The Magic Apples\" (_Norske Eventyr og Sagn_, optegnet av Sophus\n    Bugge og Rikard Berge, Christiania, 1909, p. 61) is probably a\n    somewhat original version of one of the cycles of tales in which\n    people acquire asses' ears, long noses, humped backs and other\n    adornments, through eating some enchanted fruit. The British Isles\n    are believed to be the home-land of this tale, and it is thought\n    to have emigrated to Scandinavia by way of France and Germany.\n\n\n\n\nXIV\n\nSELF DID IT\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a mill, in which it was impossible to grind\nflour, because such strange things kept happening there. But there was a\npoor woman who was in urgent need of a little meal one evening, and she\nasked whether they would not allow her to grind a little flour during\nthe night. \"For heaven's sake,\" said the mill-owner, \"that is quite\nimpossible! There are ghosts enough in the mill as it is.\" But the woman\nsaid that she must grind a little; for she did not have a pinch of flour\nin the house with which to make mush, and there was nothing for her\nchildren to eat. So at last he allowed her to go to the mill at night\nand grind some flour. When she came, she lit a fire under a big\ntar-barrel that was standing there; got the mill going, sat down by the\nfire, and began to knit. After a time a girl came in and nodded to her.\n\"Good evening!\" said she to the woman. \"Good evening!\" said the woman;\nkept her seat, and went on knitting. But then the girl who had come in\nbegan to pull apart the fire on the hearth. The woman built it up again.\n\n\"What is your name?\" asked the girl from underground.\n\n\"Self is my name,\" said the woman.\n\nThat seemed a curious name to the girl, and she once more began to pull\nthe fire apart. Then the woman grew angry and began to scold, and built\nit all up again. Thus they went on for a good while; but at last, while\nthey were in the midst of their pulling apart and building up of the\nfire, the woman upset the tar-barrel on the girl from underground. Then\nthe latter screamed and ran away, crying:\n\n\"Father, father! Self burned me!\"\n\n\"Nonsense, if self did it, then self must suffer for it!\" came the\nanswer from below the hill.\n\n\n    NOTE.\n\n    \"Self Did It\" (Asbjoernsen, _Huldreeventyr_, I, p. 10. From the\n    vicinity of Sandakar, told by a half-grown boy) belongs to the\n    cycle of the Polyphemus fairy-tales, with a possible glimmer of\n    the old belief that beings low in the mythological scale are most\n    easily controlled by fire.\n\n\n\n\nXV\n\nTHE MASTER GIRL\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a king who had several sons; I do not just\nknow how many there were, but the youngest was not content at home,\nand insisted on going out into the world to seek his fortune. And in\nthe end the king had to give him permission to do so. After he had\nwandered for a few days, he came to a giant's castle, and took service\nwith the giant. In the morning the giant wanted to go off to herd his\ngoats, and when he started he told the king's son he was to clean the\nstable in the meantime. \"And when you are through with that, you need\ndo nothing more for to-day, for you might as well know that you have\ncome to a kind master,\" said he. \"But you must do what you are told to\ndo conscientiously and, besides, you must not go into any of the rooms\nthat lie behind the one in which you slept last night, else your life\nwill pay the forfeit.\"\n\n\"He surely is a kind master,\" said the king's son to himself, walked up\nand down the room, and whistled and sang; for, thought he, there would\nbe plenty of time to clean the stable. \"But it would be nice to take a\nlook at the other room, there surely must be something in it that he is\nalarmed about, since I am not so much as to take a look,\" thought he,\nand went into the first room. There hung a kettle, and it was boiling,\nbut the king's son could find no fire beneath it. \"What can there be in\nit?\" thought he, and dipped in a lock of his hair, and at once the hair\ngrew just like copper. \"That's a fine soup, and whoever tastes it will\nburn his mouth,\" said the youth, and went into the next room. There hung\nanother kettle that bubbled and boiled; but there was no fire beneath\nit, either. \"I must try this one, too,\" said the king's son, and again\nhe dipped in a lock of his hair and it grew just like silver. \"We have\nno such expensive soup at home,\" said the king's son, \"but the main\nthing is, how does it taste?\" and with that he went into the third room.\nAnd there hung still another kettle, a-boiling just like those in the\ntwo other rooms, and the king's son wanted to try this one, too. He\ndipped in a lock of his hair, and it came out like pure gold, and fairly\nshimmered.\n\nThen the king's son said: \"Better and better! But if he cooks gold here,\nI wonder what he cooks inside, there?\" And he wanted to see, so he went\ninto the fourth room. Here there was no kettle to be seen; but a maiden\nsat on a bench who must have been a king's daughter; yet whatever she\nmight be, the king's son had never seen any one so beautiful in all his\ndays. \"Now in heaven's name, what are you doing here?\" asked the maiden.\n\"I hired myself out here yesterday,\" said the king's son. \"May God be\nyour aid, for it is a fine service you have chosen!\" said she. \"O, the\nmaster is very friendly,\" said the king's son. \"He has given me no hard\nwork to do to-day. When I have cleaned out the stable, I need do nothing\nmore.\" \"Yes, but how are you going to manage it?\" she went on. \"If you\ndo as the others have done, then for every shovelful you pitch out, ten\nfresh shovelfuls will fly in. But I'll tell you how to go about it. You\nmust turn around the shovel, and work with the handle, then everything\nwill fly out by itself.\"\n\nThis he would do, said the king's son; and he sat there with her all day\nlong, for they had soon agreed that they would marry, he and the king's\ndaughter, and in this way his first day in the giant's service did not\nweary him at all. When evening came on, she told him that now he must\nclean out the stable before the giant came, and when he got there he\nthought he would try out her advice, and began to use the shovel as he\nhad seen his father's grooms use it. And sure enough, he had to stop\nquickly, for after he had worked a little while, he hardly had room in\nwhich to stand. Then he did as the king's daughter had told him, turned\nthe shovel around and used the handle. And in a wink the stable was as\nclean as though it had been scrubbed. When he had finished he went\nto the room that the giant had assigned him, and walked up and down,\nwhistling and singing. Then the giant came home with his goats. \"Have\nyou cleaned out the stable?\" he asked. \"Yes, indeed, master, it is\nspick and span,\" said the king's son. \"I'll have to see that,\" said the\ngiant, and went into the stable; but it was just as the king's son had\nsaid. \"You surely have been talking to the Master Girl, for you could\nnot have done that alone,\" said the giant. \"Master Girl? What is a\nMaster Girl?\" said the king's son, and pretended to be very stupid. \"I'd\nlike to see her, too.\" \"You will see her in plenty of time,\" said the\ngiant.\n\nThe next morning the giant went off again with his goats. And he told\nthe king's son he was to fetch his horse from the pasture, and when he\nhad done this, he might rest: \"For you have come to a kind master,\" said\nhe. \"But if you enter one of the rooms which I forbade you entering\nyesterday, I will tear off your head,\" he said, and went away with his\nherd. \"Indeed, you are a kind master,\" said the king's son, \"but in\nspite of it I'd like to have another little talk with the Master Girl,\nfor she is just as much mine as yours,\" and with that he went in to her.\nShe asked him what work he had to do that day. \"O, it is not so bad\nto-day,\" said the king's son. \"I am only to fetch his horse from the\npasture.\" \"And how are you going to manage that?\" asked the Master Girl.\n\"Surely it is no great feat to fetch a horse from pasture,\" said the\nking's son, \"and I have ridden swift horses before.\" \"Yet it is not an\neasy matter to ride this horse home,\" said the Master Girl, \"but I will\ntell you how to set about it: When you see the horse, he will come\nrunning up, breathing fire and flame, just as though he were a burning\npine-torch. Then you must take the bit that is hanging here on the door,\nand throw it into his mouth, for then he will grow so tame that you can\ndo what you will with him.\" He would take good note of it, said the\nking's son, and he sat there with the Master Girl the whole day long,\nand they chatted and talked about this and that, but mainly about how\ndelightful it would be, and what a pleasant time they could have, if\nthey could only marry and get away from the giant. And the king's son\nwould have forgotten the pasture and the horse altogether, had not the\nMaster Girl reminded him of them toward evening. He took the bit that\nhung in the corner, hurried out to the pasture, and the horse at once\nran up, breathing fire and flame; but he seized the moment when he came\nrunning up to him with his jaws wide open, and threw the bit into his\nmouth. Then he stood still, as gentle as a young lamb, and he had no\ntrouble bringing him to the stable. Then he went to his room again, and\nbegan to whistle and sing. In the evening the giant came home with his\ngoats. \"Did you fetch the horse?\" he asked. \"Yes, master,\" said the\nking's son. \"It would make a fine saddle-horse, but I just took it\nstraight to the stable.\" \"I'll have to see that,\" said the giant, and\nwent into the stable. But there stood the horse, just as the king's son\nhad said. \"You surely must have spoken to my Master Girl, for you\ncould not have done that alone,\" said the giant. \"Yesterday the master\nchattered about the Master Girl, and to-day he is talking about her\nagain. I wish master would show me the creature, for I surely would like\nto see her,\" said the king's son, and pretended to be very simple and\nstupid. \"You will get to see her in plenty of time,\" said the giant.\n\nOn the third morning the giant went off again with his goats. \"To-day\nyou must go to the devil, and fetch me his tribute,\" said he to the\nking's son. \"When you have done that, you may rest for the remainder of\nthe time, for you have come to a kind master, and you might as well know\nit,\" and with that he went off. \"You may be a kind master,\" said the\nking's son; \"yet you hand over some pretty mean jobs to me in spite of\nit, but I think I'll look after your Master Girl a bit. You claim that\nshe belongs to you, but perhaps, in spite of it, she may tell me what to\ndo,\" and with that he went in to her. And when the Master Girl asked him\nwhat the giant had given him to do that day, he told her he must go to\nthe devil and fetch a tribute. \"But how will you go about it?\" asked the\nMaster Girl. \"You will have to tell me that,\" said the king's son, \"for\nI have never been to the devil's place, and even though I knew the way\nthere, I still would not know how much to ask for.\" \"I will tell you\nwhat you must do,\" said the Master Girl. \"You must go to the rock behind\nthe pasture, and take the club that is lying there, and strike the rock\nwith it. Then one will come out whose eyes flash fire, and you must tell\nhim your business. And if he asks how much you want, you must tell him\nas much as you can carry.\" He would take good note of it, said the\nking's son, and he sat there with the Master Girl all day long until\nevening, and he might be sitting there yet, if the Master Girl had not\nreminded him that he must still go to the devil about the tribute before\nthe giant came home. So he set out, and did exactly as the Master Girl\nhad told him: he went to the rock, took the club and beat against it.\nThen one came out from whose eyes and nose the sparks flew. \"What do you\nwant?\" he asked. \"The giant has sent me to fetch his tribute,\" said the\nking's son. \"How much do you want?\" the other again inquired. \"I never\nask for more than I can carry,\" was the reply of the king's son. \"It is\nlucky for you that you did not ask for a whole ton at once,\" said the\none on the hill. \"But come in with me, and wait a while.\" This the\nking's son did, and saw a great deal of gold and silver lying in the\nhill like dead rock in an ore-pile. Then as much as he could carry was\npacked up, and with it he went his way. When the giant came home in\nthe evening with his goats, the king's son was running about the room,\nwhistling and singing as on the two preceding evenings. \"Did you go to\nthe devil for the tribute?\" asked the giant. \"Yes, indeed, master,\" said\nthe king's son. \"Where did you put it?\" asked the giant again. \"I stood\nthe sack of gold outside on the bench,\" was the reply. \"I must see that\nat once,\" said the giant, and went over to the bench. But the sack was\nreally standing there, and it was so full that the gold and silver\nrolled right out when the giant loosened the string. \"You surely must\nhave spoken to my Master Girl,\" said the giant. \"If that is the case I\nwill tear your head off.\" \"With your Master Girl?\" said the king's\nson. \"Yesterday master talked about that Master Girl, and to-day he is\ntalking about her again, and the day before yesterday he talked about\nher, too! I only wish that I might get the chance to see her sometime!\"\nsaid he. \"Well, just wait until to-morrow,\" said the giant, \"and then I\nwill lead you to her myself,\" he said. \"A thousand thanks, master,\" said\nthe king's son, \"but I think you are only joking!\" The following day the\ngiant took him to the Master Girl.\n\n\"Now you must slaughter him, and cook him in the big kettle, you know\nwhich one I mean. And when the soup is ready, you can call me,\" said the\ngiant, and he lay down on the bench to sleep, and at once began to snore\nso that the hills shook. Then the Master Girl took a knife, and cut the\nyouth's little finger, and let three drops of blood fall on the bench.\nThen she took all the old rags, and old shoes and other rubbish she\ncould find, and threw them all into the kettle. And then she took a\nchest of gold-dust, and a lick-stone, and a bottle of water that hung\nover the door, and a golden apple, and two golden hens, and left the\ngiant's castle together with the king's son as quickly as possible.\nAfter a time they came to the sea, and they sailed across; though where\nthey got the ship I do not exactly know.\n\nNow when the giant had been sleeping quite a while, he began to stretch\nhimself on his bench. \"Is dinner ready yet?\" he asked. \"Just begun!\"\nsaid the first drop of blood on the bench. Then the giant turned\naround, went to sleep again, and went on sleeping for quite some time.\nThen he again turned around a little. \"Is dinner not ready yet?\" he\nsaid, but did not open his eyes--nor had he done so the first time--for\nhe was still half asleep. \"It is half ready!\" called out the second drop\nof blood, and then the giant thought it was the Master Girl. He turned\naround on the bench and took another nap. After he had slept a couple of\nhours longer, he once more began to move about and stretch: \"Is dinner\nstill not ready?\" said he. \"Ready!\" answered the third drop of blood.\nThe giant sat up and rubbed his eyes. But he could not see who had\ncalled him, and so he called out to the Master Girl. But no one answered\nhim. \"O, I suppose she has gone out for a little,\" thought the giant,\nand he dipped his spoon in the kettle to try the dinner; but there was\nnothing but leather soles and rags and like rubbish cooked together, and\nhe did not know whether it were mush or porridge. When he noticed this\nhe began to see a light, and realize how matters had come to pass, and\nhe grew so angry that he hardly knew what to do, and made after the\nking's son and the Master Girl in flying haste. In a short time he came\nto the sea, and could not cross. \"But I know how to help myself,\" said\nhe. \"I will fetch my sea-sucker.\" So the sea-sucker came, and lay down\nand took two or three swallows, and thus lowered the water so that the\ngiant could see the king's son and the Master Girl out on the ship. \"Now\nyou must throw the lick-stone overboard,\" said the Master Girl, and the\nking's son did so. It turned into a tremendous large rock square across\nthe sea, and the giant could not get over, and the sea-sucker could\ndrink up no more of the sea. \"I know quite well what I must do,\" said\nthe giant. \"I must now fetch my hill-borer.\" So the hill-borer came, and\nbored a hole through the rock, so the sea-sucker could get through and\nkeep on sucking. But no sooner were they thus far than the Master Girl\ntold the king's son to pour a drop or so of the bottle overboard, and\nthe sea grew so full that they had landed before the sea-sucker could so\nmuch as take a single swallow.\n\nNow they wanted to go home to the father of the king's son; but he would\nnot hear of the Master Girl's going afoot, since he did not think this\nfitting for either of them. \"Wait here a little while, until I fetch the\nseven horses that stand in my father's stable,\" said the king's son. \"It\nis not far, and I will soon be back; for I will not have my bride come\nmarching home afoot.\" \"No, do not do so, for when you get home to the\ncastle you will forget me, I know that positively,\" said the Master\nGirl. \"How could I forget you?\" said the king's son. \"We have passed\nthrough so many hardships together, and we love each other so dearly,\"\nsaid he. He wanted to fetch the coach and seven horses at all costs, and\nshe was to wait by the seashore. So at last the Master Girl had to give\nin.\n\n\"But when you get there, you must not take time to greet a single\nperson. You must at once go to the stable, harness the horses, and drive\nback as swiftly as you can. They will all come to meet you, but you\nmust act as though you did not see them, and must not take a single bite\nto eat. If you do not do that, you will make both of us unhappy,\" said\nshe. And he promised to do as she had said.\n\nBut when he got home to the castle, one of his brothers was just getting\nmarried, and the bride and all the guests were already there. They all\ncrowded around him and asked him this, and asked him that, and wanted to\nlead him in. But he acted as though he saw none of them, led out the\nhorses, and began to put them to the coach. And since they could by no\nmanner of means induce him to come into the castle, they came out with\nfood and drink, and offered him the best of all that had been prepared\nfor the wedding feast.\n\nBut the king's son would taste nothing, and only made haste in order to\nget away. Yet, finally, the bride's sister rolled an apple over to him\nacross the court-yard: \"And if you will touch nothing else, then at\nleast you might take a bite of the apple, for you must be hungry and\nthirsty after your long journey,\" said she, and he took the apple and\nbit into it. But no sooner did he have the bit of apple in his mouth\nthan he had forgotten the Master Girl, and that he was to fetch her.\n\"I think I must be going mad! What am I doing with the horses and the\ncoach?\" he said, and he led back the horses into the stable, and went\nback to the castle, and wanted to marry the bride's sister, the one who\nhad thrown him the apple.\n\nIn the meantime the Master Girl sat by the seashore, and waited and\nwaited; but no king's son came. Then she went on, and after she had gone\na while, she came to a little hut that lay all by itself in the forest,\nnear the king's castle. She went in and asked whether she might not\nstay there. Now the little hut belonged to an old woman, and she was an\narrant and evil witch; at first she did not want to take in the Master\nGirl at all; but at last she agreed to do so for love of money. But the\nwhole hut was as dark and dirty as a pig-sty; therefore the Master Girl\nsaid she would clean up a bit, so that things would look as they did in\nother, decent people's houses. The old woman would have none of it, and\nwas very disagreeable and angry; but the Master Girl paid no attention\nto her. She took the chest of gold dust, and threw a handful into the\nfire, so that a ray of gold shone over the whole hut, and it was gilded\noutside and in. But when the gold flamed up, the old woman was so\nterribly frightened that she ran out as though the evil one were after\nher, and from pure rage she forgot to duck at the threshold, and ran her\nhead against the door-post. And that was the end of her.\n\nThe following morning the bailiff came by. He was much surprised to see\nthe little golden hut, glittering and sparkling there in the forest, and\nwas still more surprised at the girl within the hut. He fell in love\nwith her at once, and asked her whether she would not become the\nbailiff's lady. \"Yes, but have you plenty of money?\" said the Master\nGirl. Yes, he had quite a little, said the bailiff. Then he went home\nto fetch his money, and came back again at evening dragging along an\nenormous sack of it, which he stood on a bench before the door. The\nMaster Girl said that, seeing he had so much money, she would accept\nhim. And then she asked him to rake the fire, which she said she had\nforgotten to do. But as soon as he had the poker in his hand, the Master\nGirl cried: \"May God grant that you hold the poker, and the poker hold\nyou, and that sparks and ashes fly around you until morning!\" And there\nthe bailiff stood the whole night through, and sparks and ashes flew\nabout him, nor were the sparks the less hot for all his complaining and\nbegging. And when morning came, and he could let go the poker, he did\nnot stay long; but ran off as though the evil one were at his heels. And\nthose who saw him stared and laughed, for he ran like a madman, and\nlooked as though he had been thrashed and tanned. And all would have\nliked to have known where he had come from, but he said not a word, for\nhe was ashamed.\n\nOn the following day the clerk passed by the Master Girl's little house.\nHe saw it glistening and shining in the woods, and went in to find out\nwho lived there. When he saw the beautiful girl he fell even more deeply\nin love with her than the bailiff had, and lost no time in suing for her\nhand. The Master Girl asked him, as she had asked the bailiff, whether\nhe had plenty of money. Money he had to spare, answered the clerk, and\nran right home to fetch it. By evening he was back again with a great\nsack--it must have been as much again as the bailiff had brought--and\nstood it on the bench. And so she promised to take him. Then she asked\nhim to shut the house-door, which she said she had forgotten to do. But\nwhen he had the door-knob in his hand, she cried: \"May God grant that\nyou hold the door-knob and that the door-knob hold you, and that you\nmove back and forth with it all night long until morning!\" And the clerk\nhad to dance the whole night through, such a waltz as he had never\ntripped before, and he had no wish to repeat the experience. Sometimes\nhe was ahead, and sometimes the door was, and so they went back and\nforth all night, from wall to post and post to wall, and he was nearly\nbruised to death. First he cursed, then he wailed and pleaded; but the\ndoor paid no attention to him, and flung open and shut until it dawned.\nWhen it at last released him, he hurried away as quickly as though he\nhad stolen something, forgot his sackful of money, and his wish to\nmarry, and was glad that the door did not come threshing along after\nhim. All grinned and stared at the clerk, for he ran like a madman, and\nlooked worse than if a ram had been butting him all night long.\n\nOn the third day the magistrate came by, and also saw the little golden\nhouse in the forest. And he, too, went in to see who lived in it. And\nwhen he saw the Master Girl, he fell so deeply in love with her that he\nsued for her hand as soon as he bade her good-day. But she told him just\nwhat she had told the others, that if he had plenty of money she would\ntake him. He had money enough, said the magistrate, and he went straight\nhome to fetch it. When he came back in the evening, he had a much bigger\nsack of money with him than the clerk had had, and he stood it on the\nbench. Then the Master Girl said she would take him. But first she\nasked him to go fetch the calf, which she had forgotten to bring to the\nstable. And when he had the calf by the tail she cried: \"May God grant\nthat you hold the calf's tail, and the calf's tail hold you, and that\nyou fly about the world together until morning!\" And with that the\nrace began, over stick and stone, over hill and dale, and the more the\nmagistrate cursed and yelled, the more madly the calf ran away. When it\ndawned there was hardly a whole bone in the magistrate's body, and he\nwas so happy to be able to let go the calf's tail that he forgot his bag\nof money, and the whole occurrence. It is true that he went home more\nslowly than the bailiff and the clerk; but the slower he went the more\ntime the people had to stare and grin at him, so ragged and badly beaten\ndid he appear after his dance with the calf.\n\nOn the following day there was to be a wedding at the castle, and not\nonly was the older prince to marry, but the one who had stayed with the\ngiant as well, and he was to get the other bride's sister.\n\nBut when they entered the coach and were about to drive to church, one\nof the axles broke. They took another, and then a third, but all of them\nbroke, no matter what kind of wood they used. It took a great deal of\ntime, and they did not move from the spot, and got all out of sorts.\nThen the bailiff said, for he had also been invited to the wedding at\nthe castle, that a maiden lived out in the forest, and \"if they could\nonly get the loan of her poker, it would be sure to hold.\" So they sent\nto the little house in the forest, and asked most politely whether the\nmaiden would not loan them the poker of which the bailiff had spoken.\nAnd they got it, too, and then they had an axle that would not break.\n\nBut when they wanted to drive on, the bottom of the coach broke. They\nmade a new bottom as well as they were able, but no matter how they put\nit together, nor what kind of wood they used, it kept on breaking again\nas soon as they had left the court-yard. And they were worse off than\nthey had been with the axle. Then the clerk said--for if the bailiff was\none of the company, you may be sure they had not forgotten to invite the\nclerk--\"Out in the forest lives a maiden, and if you will get the loan\nof her house-door, I am sure it would not break.\" So they sent to the\nlittle house in the forest, and asked most politely whether the maiden\nwould not loan them the golden house-door, of which the clerk had told\nthem. And they got it, too, and were about to drive on, when suddenly\nthe horses could not draw the coach. There were six, so they put to\neight, and then ten and twelve, but though they put as many as they\nliked to the coach and helped along with the whip, still the coach would\nnot budge. The day was already far advanced, and they simply had to get\nto church, and actually began to despair. But then the magistrate said\nthat out in the golden house in the forest lived a maiden, \"and if one\ncould only get the loan of her calf, it would be sure to pull the coach,\nand though it were as heavy as a bowlder.\" They did not think it quite\nthe thing to drive to church with a calf; but still there was nothing to\ndo but to send to the maiden, and to ask her most politely, with a kind\ngreeting from the king, if she would loan them the calf of which the\nmagistrate had spoken. Nor did the Master Girl refuse them this time.\nAnd then, when they had put the calf to the coach, it moved from the\nspot quickly enough. It flew over stick and stone, hill and dale, so\nthat the people inside could hardly catch their breath. First it was\non the ground, and next it was in the air, and when they reached\nthe church, it spun around it like a top, and they had the greatest\ndifficulty in getting out and into the church. And going home they went\nstill faster, and were nearly out of their wits by the time they reached\nthe castle.\n\nWhen they sat down to the table the king's son--the same who had been at\nthe giant's--said it would be no more than right to invite the maiden,\ntoo, who had lent them the poker, and the door and the calf: \"for if we\nhad not had these things, we should not have moved from the spot.\" This\nseemed right to the king, so he sent five of his most distinguished\ncourtiers to the little golden house. They were to carry the king's\nkindest greetings, and ask that the maiden come up to the castle and\ntake dinner with them. \"A kind greeting to the king, and if he is too\ngood to come to me, then I am too good to go to him,\" said the Master\nGirl. So the king had to go to her himself, and then she went along\nwith him at once, and the king saw very well that she was more than she\nappeared to be, and gave her a place at the head of the table, next to\nthe young bridegroom. After they had been at dinner for a while, the\nMaster Girl produced the rooster and the hen and the golden apple--they\nwere the three things she had taken along from the giant's castle--and\nplaced them on the table before her. At once the rooster and the hen\nbegan to fight for the golden apple. \"Why, just see how the two fight\nfor the golden apple!\" said the king's son. \"Yes, that is how we had to\nfight the time we wanted to get out of the rock!\" said the Master Girl.\nAnd then the king's son recognized her, and was very happy. The witch\nwho had rolled the apple over to him was duly punished, and then the\nwedding really began, and the bailiff, and the clerk and the magistrate\nheld out to the very end, for all that their wings had been so\nthoroughly singed.\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    \"The Master Girl\" (Asbjoernsen and Moe, N.F.E., p. 222. No. 46) is\n    fitted out with a great wealth of interesting incident. The dream\n    motive of not being able to get away is most delightfully woven\n    into the context of the story, and the sea-sucker, whom the giant\n    fetches to stop the flight of the lovers, is a unique creation of\n    fancy.\n\n\n\n\nXVI\n\nANENT THE GIANT WHO DID NOT HAVE HIS HEART ABOUT HIM\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a king who had seven sons, and he was so fond\nof them that he never could bear to have them all away from him at once,\nand one of them always had to stay with him. When they had grown up, six\nof them were to go forth and look for wives; but the youngest the king\nwanted to keep at home, and the others were to bring along a bride for\nhim. The king gave the six the handsomest clothes that had ever been\nseen, clothes that glittered from afar, and each received a horse that\nhad cost many hundred dollars, and so they set forth. And after they had\nbeen at the courts of many kings, and had seen many princesses, they at\nlast came to a king who had six daughters. Such beautiful princesses\nthey had not as yet met with, and so each of them paid court to one of\nthem, and when each had won his sweetheart, they rode back home again.\nBut they were so deeply in love with their brides that they altogether\nforgot they were also to bring back a princess for their young brother\nwho had stayed at home.\n\nNow when they had already covered a good bit of the homeward road, they\npassed close to a steep cliff-side where the giants dwelt. And a giant\ncame out, looked at them, and turned them all to stone, princes and\nprincesses. The king waited and waited for his six sons; but though he\nwaited and yearned, they did not come. Then he grew very sad, and said\nthat he would never really be happy again. \"If I did not have you,\" he\ntold his youngest, \"I would not keep on living, so sad am I at having\nlost your brothers.\" \"But I had already been thinking of asking your\npermission to set out and find my brothers again,\" said the youngest.\n\"No, that I will not allow under any circumstances,\" answered the\nfather, \"otherwise you will be lost to me into the bargain.\" But the\nyouth's mind was set on going, and he pleaded so long that finally the\nking had to let him have his way. Now the king had only a wretched old\nnag for him, since the six other princes and their suite had been given\nall the good horses; but that did not worry the youngest. He mounted the\nshabby old nag, and \"Farewell, father!\" he said to the king. \"I will\nsurely return, and perhaps I will bring my six brothers back with me.\"\nAnd with that he rode off.\n\nNow when he had ridden a while he met a raven, who was lying in the road\nbeating his wings, and unable to move from the spot because he was so\nstarved. \"O, dear friend, if you will give me a bite to eat, then I'll\nhelp you in your hour of direst need!\" cried the raven. \"I have not much\nfood, nor are you likely to be able to help me much,\" said the king's\nson, \"but still I can give you a little, for it is easy to see you need\nit.\" And with that he gave the raven some of the provisions he had with\nhim. And when he had ridden a while longer, he came to a brook, and\nthere lay a great salmon who had gotten on dry land, and was threshing\nabout, and could not get back into the water. \"O, dear friend, help me\nback into the water,\" said the salmon to the king's son, \"and I will\nhelp you, too, in your hour of greatest need!\" \"The help you will be\nable to give me will probably not amount to much,\" said the prince, \"but\nit would be a pity if you had to lie there and pine away.\" And with that\nhe pushed the fish back into the water. Then he rode on a long, long\nway, and met a wolf; and the wolf was so starved that he lay in the\nmiddle of the road, and writhed with hunger. \"Dear friend, let me eat\nyour horse,\" said the wolf. \"My hunger is so great that my very inwards\nrattle, because I have had nothing to eat for the past two years!\" \"No,\"\nsaid the prince, \"I cannot do that: first I met a raven, and had to give\nhim my provisions; then I met a salmon and had to help him back into the\nwater; and now you want my horse. That will not do, for what shall I\nride on then?\" \"Well, my dear friend, you must help me,\" was the wolf's\nreply. \"You can ride on me. I will help you in turn in your hour of\ngreatest need.\" \"The help you might give me would probably not amount to\nmuch; but I will let you eat the horse, since you are in such sorry\ncase,\" returned the prince. And when the wolf had eaten the horse, the\nprince took the bit and put it in the wolf's mouth, and fastened the\nsaddle on his back, and his meal had made the wolf so strong that he\ntrotted off with the king's son as fast as he could. He had never ridden\nso swiftly before. \"When we have gone a little further I will show you\nthe place where the giants live,\" said the wolf; and in a short time\nthey were there. \"Well, this is where the giants live,\" said the wolf.\n\"There you see your six brothers, whom the giant turned into stone, and\nyonder are their six brides; and up there is the door through which you\nmust pass.\" \"No, I would not dare do that,\" said the king's son. \"He\nwould murder me.\" \"O no,\" was the wolf's reply, \"when you go in you will\nfind a princess, and she will tell you how to set about getting rid of\nthe giant. You need only do as she says.\" And the prince went in, though\nhe was afraid. When he entered the house the giant was not there; but in\none of the rooms sat a princess, just as the wolf had said, and such a\nbeautiful maiden the youth had never seen. \"Now may God help you, how\ndid you get in here?\" cried the princess, when she saw him. \"It is\ncertain death for you. No one can kill the giant who lives here, for he\nhasn't his heart about him.\"\n\n\"Well, since I do happen to be here, I will at least make the attempt,\"\nsaid the prince. \"And I want to try to deliver my brothers, who stand\noutside, turned to stone, and I would like to save you as well.\"\n\"Well, if you insist upon it, we must see what we can do,\" replied\nthe princess. \"Now you must crawl under the bed here, and must listen\ncarefully when I talk to the giant. But you must not make a sound.\" The\nprince slipped under the bed, and no sooner was he there than the giant\ncame home. \"Hu, it smells like the flesh of a Christian here!\" he cried.\n\"Yes,\" said the princess, \"a jackdaw flew by with a human bone, and let\nit fall down the chimney. I threw it out again at once, but the odor\ndoes not disappear so quickly.\" Then the giant said no more about it.\nToward evening he went to bed, but after he had lain there a while, the\nprincess, who sat looking out of the window, said: \"There is something I\nwould have asked you about long ago, if only I had dared.\" \"And what may\nthat be?\" inquired the giant. \"I would like to know where you keep your\nheart, since you do not have it about you?\" said the princess. \"O, that\nis something you need not ask about; at any rate, it lies under the\nthreshold of the door,\" was the giant's reply. \"Aha,\" thought the prince\nunder the bed, \"that is where we will find it!\"\n\nThe next morning the giant got up very early, and went into the forest,\nand no sooner had he gone than the prince and the king's daughter set\nabout looking for the heart under the threshold of the door. Yet no\nmatter how much they dug and searched--they found nothing. \"This time he\nhas fooled us,\" said the princess. \"We'll have to try again.\" And she\npicked the loveliest flowers she could find and strewed them over the\nthreshold--which they had put to rights again--and when the time drew\nnear for the giant's return, the king's son crept under the bed once\nmore. When he was beneath it, the giant came. \"Hu hu, I smell human\nflesh!\" he cried. \"Yes,\" said the princess. \"A jackdaw flew by with a\nhuman bone in her beak, and she let it fall down the chimney. I threw it\nout at once, but I suppose one can still smell it.\" Then the giant held\nhis tongue, and said no more about it. After a time he asked who had\nstrewn the flowers over the threshold. \"O, I did that,\" said the\nprincess. \"What does it mean?\" the giant then asked. \"O, I am so fond of\nyou that I had to do it, because I know that is where your heart lies.\"\n\"Yes, of course,\" said the giant, \"but it does not happen to lie there\nat all.\"\n\nWhen he had gone to bed, the princess sat looking out of the window, and\nagain asked the giant where he kept his heart, for she was so fond of\nhim, said she, that she wanted to know above all things. \"O, it is in\nthe wardrobe there by the wall,\" said the giant. \"Aha,\" thought the\nking's son under the bed, \"that is where we will find it!\"\n\nThe next morning the giant got up early, and went into the forest, and\nno sooner had he gone than the prince and the king's daughter set about\nlooking for his heart in the wardrobe. Yet no matter how much they\nlooked, they did not find it. \"Well, well,\" said the princess, \"we will\nhave to try once more.\" Then she adorned the wardrobe with flowers and\nwreaths, and toward evening the king's youngest son again crawled under\nthe bed. Then the giant came: \"Hu hu, it smells of human flesh here!\" he\ncried. \"Yes,\" said the princess. \"A jackdaw just this moment flew by\nwith a human bone in her beak, and she let it fall down the chimney. I\nthrew it out again at once, but it may be that you can still smell it.\"\nWhen the giant heard this, he had nothing further to say about it. But\nnot long afterward he noticed that the wardrobe was adorned with flowers\nand wreaths, and asked who had done it. \"I,\" said the princess. \"What do\nyou mean by such tomfoolery?\" asked the giant. \"O, I am so fond of you\nthat I had to do it, since I know that is where your heart lies,\" was\nthe reply of the princess. \"Are you really so stupid as to believe\nthat?\" cried the giant. \"Yes, surely, I must believe it,\" said the\nprincess, \"when you tell me so.\" \"How silly you are,\" said the giant,\n\"you could never reach the place where I keep my heart.\" \"But still I\nwould like to know where it is,\" answered the princess. Then the giant\ncould no longer resist, and at last had to tell her the truth. \"Far,\nfar away, in a lake there lies an island,\" said he, \"and on the island\nstands a church, and in the church there is a well, and in the well\nfloats a duck, and in the duck there is an egg, and in the egg--is my\nheart!\"\n\nThe next morning, before dawn, the giant went to the forest again.\n\"Well, now I must get under way,\" said the prince, \"and it is a way I\nwish I could find.\" So he said farewell to the princess for the time\nbeing, and when he stepped out of the door, the wolf was standing there\nwaiting for him. He told him what had happened at the giant's, and said\nthat now he would go to the well in the church, if only he knew the way.\nThe wolf told him to climb on his back. He would manage to find the\nway, said he. And then they were off as though they had wings, over rock\nand wood, over hill and dale. After they had been underway for many,\nmany days, they at last reached the lake. Then the king's son did not\nknow how they were to get across. But the wolf told him not to worry,\nand swam across with the prince to the island. Then they came to the\nchurch. But the church-key hung high up in the tower, and at first the\nking's son did not at all know how they were to get it down. \"You must\ncall the raven,\" said the wolf, and that is what the king's son did. And\nthe raven came at once, and flew right down with the key, and now the\nprince could enter the church. Then, when he came to the well, there was\nthe duck, sure enough, swimming about as the giant had said. He stood by\nthe well and called the duck, and at last he lured her near him, and\nseized her. But at the moment he grasped her and lifted her out of the\nwater, she let the egg fall into the well, and now the prince again did\nnot know how he was to get hold of it. \"Well, you must call the salmon,\"\nsaid the wolf. That is what the king's son did, and the salmon came at\nonce, and brought up the egg from the bottom of the well. Then the wolf\ntold him to squeeze the egg a little. And when the prince squeezed, the\ngiant cried out. \"Squeeze it again!\" said the wolf, and when the prince\ndid so, the giant cried out far more dolefully, and fearfully and\ntearfully begged for his life. He would do all the king's son asked him\nto, said he, if only he would not squeeze his heart in two. \"Tell him\nto give back their original form to your six brothers, whom he turned to\nstone, and to their brides, as well; and that then you will spare his\nlife,\" said the wolf, and the prince did so. The troll at once agreed,\nand changed the six brothers into princes, and their brides into kings'\ndaughters. \"Now squash the egg!\" cried the wolf. Then the prince\nsqueezed the egg in two, and the giant burst into pieces.\n\n  [Illustration: \"THEY AT LAST REACHED THE LAKE.\"\n                                                     --_Page 108_]\n\nWhen the king's youngest son had put an end to the giant in this way, he\nrode back on his wolf to the giant's home; and there stood his six\nbrothers as much alive as ever they had been, together with, their\nbrides. Then the prince went into the hill to get his own bride, and\nthey all rode home together. And great was the joy of the old king when\nhis seven sons all returned, each with his bride. \"But the bride of my\nyoungest is the most beautiful, after all, and he shall sit with her at\nthe head of the table!\" said the king. And then they had a feast that\nlasted for weeks, and if they have not stopped, they are feasting to\nthis very day.\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    The fairy-tale, \"The Giant Who Did Not Have His Heart About Him\"\n    (Asbjoernsen and Moe, N.F.E., p. 171, No. 36), is founded on the\n    very ancient belief of the corporealization of the soul, and its\n    existence without the body. It is a belief widely current among\n    primitive peoples, and Koschei the Deathless of Russian fairy-tale\n    resembles our giant, though in his case the egg which holds his\n    soul is shattered on the ground, whereupon he dies at once.\n\n\n\n\nXVII\n\nTHE THREE PRINCESSES IN WHITELAND\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a fisherman, who lived near the king's\ncastle, and caught fish for the king's table. One day when he had gone\nfishing, he could not catch a thing. Try as he might, no matter how he\nbaited or flung, not the tiniest fish would bite; but when this had gone\non for a while, a head rose from the water and said: \"If you will give\nme the first new thing that has come into your house, you shall catch\nfish a-plenty!\" Then the man agreed quickly, for he could think of no\nnew thing that might have come into the house. So he caught fish all day\nlong, and as many as he could wish for, as may well be imagined. But\nwhen he got home, he found that heaven had sent him a little son, the\nfirst new thing to come into the house since he had made his promise.\nAnd when he told his wife about it, she began to weep and wail, and pray\nto God because of the vow her husband had made. And the woman's grief\nwas reported at the castle, and when it came to the king's ears, and he\nlearned the reason, he promised to take the boy and see if he could not\nsave him. And so the king took him and brought him up as though he were\nhis own son, until he was grown. Then one day the boy asked whether he\nmight not go out fishing with his father, he wanted to so very much,\nsaid he. The king would not hear of it; but at last he was given\npermission, so he went to his father, and everything went well all day\nlong, until they came home in the evening. Then the son found he had\nforgotten his handkerchief, and went down to the boat to get it. But no\nsooner was he in the boat than it moved off with a rush, and no matter\nhow hard the youth worked against it with the oars, it was all in vain.\nThe boat drove on and on, all night long, and at last he came to a white\nstrand, far, far away. He stepped ashore, and after he had gone a while\nhe met an old man with a great, white beard. \"What is this country\ncalled?\" asked the youth. \"Whiteland,\" was the man's answer, and he\nasked the youth where he came from, and what he wanted, and the latter\ntold him. \"If you keep right on along the shore,\" said the man, \"you\nwill come to three princesses, buried in the earth so that only their\nheads show. Then the first will call you--and she is the oldest--and beg\nyou very hard to come to her and help her; and the next will do the\nsame; but you must go to neither of them; walk quickly past them, and\nact as though you neither saw nor heard them. But go up to the third,\nand do what she asks of you, for then you will make your fortune.\"\n\nWhen the youth came to the first princess, she called out to him, and\nbegged him most earnestly to come to her; but he went on as though he\nhad not seen her. And he passed the next one in the same manner; but\nwent over to the third. \"If you will do what I tell you to, you shall\nhave whichever one of us you want,\" said she. Yes, he would do what she\nwanted. So she told him that three trolls had wished them into the earth\nwhere they were; but that formerly they had dwelt in the castle he saw\non the edge of the forest.\n\n\"Now you must go to the castle, and let the trolls whip you one night\nthrough for each one of us,\" said she, \"and if you can hold out, you\nwill have delivered us.\" \"Yes,\" said the youth, he could manage that.\n\"When you go in,\" added the princess, \"you will find two lions standing\nby the door; but if you pass directly between them, they will do you no\nharm. Go on into a dark little room and lie down, and then the troll\nwill come and beat you; but after that you must take the bottle that\nhangs on the wall, and anoint yourself where he has beaten you, and you\nwill be whole again. And take the sword that hangs beside the bottle,\nand kill the troll with it.\" He did as the princess had told him, passed\nbetween the lions as though he did not see them, and right into the\nlittle room, where he lay down. The first night a troll with three heads\nand three whips came, and beat the youth badly; but he held out, and\nwhen the troll had finished, he took the bottle and anointed himself,\ngrasped the sword and killed the troll. When he came out in the morning\nthe princesses were out of the ground up to their waists. The next night\nit was the same; but the troll who came this time had six heads and six\nwhips, and beat him worse than the first one. But when he came out in\nthe morning, the princesses were out of the ground up to their ankles.\nThe third night came a troll who had nine heads and nine whips, and he\nbeat and whipped the youth so severely that at last he fainted. Then the\ntroll took him and flung him against the wall, and as he did so the\nbottle fell down, and its whole contents poured over the youth, and he\nwas at once sound and whole again. Then he did not delay, but grasped\nthe sword, killed the troll, and when he came out in the morning, the\nprincesses were entirely out of the ground. So he chose the youngest of\nthem to be his queen, and lived long with her in peace and happiness.\n\nBut at last he was minded to travel home, and see how his parents fared.\nThis did not suit his queen; but since he wanted to go so badly, and\nfinally was on the point of departure, she said to him: \"One thing you\nmust promise me, that you will only do what your father tells you to do,\nbut not what your mother tells you to do.\" And this he promised. Then\nshe gave him a ring which had the power of granting two wishes to the\none who wore it. So he wished himself home, and his parents could not\nget over their surprise at seeing how fine and handsome he had become.\n\nWhen he had been home a few days, his mother wanted him to go up to the\ncastle and show the king what a man he had grown to be. His father said:\n\"No, he had better not do that, for we will have to do without him in\nthe meantime.\" But there was no help for it, the mother begged and\npleaded until he went. When he got there he was more splendidly dressed\nand fitted out than the other king. This did not suit the latter, and he\nsaid: \"You can see what my queen looks like, but I cannot see yours; and\nI do not believe yours is as beautiful as mine.\" \"God grant she were\nstanding here, then you would see soon enough!\" said the young king, and\nthere she stood that very minute. But she was very sad, and said to him:\n\"Why did you not follow my advice and listen to your father? Now I must\ngo straight home, and you have used up both of your wishes.\" With that\nshe bound a ring with her name on it in his hair, and wished herself\nhome.\n\nThen the young king grew very sad, and went about day in, day out, with\nno other thought than getting back to his queen. \"I must try and see\nwhether I cannot find out where Whiteland is,\" thought he, and wandered\nforth into the wide world. After he had gone a while he came to a\nhill; and there he met one who was the lord of all the beasts of the\nforest--for they came when he blew his horn--and him the king asked\nwhere Whiteland was. \"That I do not know,\" said he, \"but I will ask my\nbeasts.\" Then he called them up with his horn, and asked whether any of\nthem knew where Whiteland might be; but none of them knew anything about\nit.\n\nThen the man gave him a pair of snowshoes. \"If you stand in them,\" said\nhe, \"you will come to my brother, who lives a hundred miles further on.\nHe is the lord of the birds of the air. Ask him. When you have found\nhim, turn the snowshoes around so that they point this way, and they\nwill come back home of their own accord.\" When the king got there, he\nturned the snowshoes around, as the lord of the beasts had told him, and\nthey ran home again. He asked about Whiteland, and the man called up\nall the birds with his horn, and asked whether any of them knew where\nWhiteland might be. But none of them knew. Long after the rest an old\neagle came along; and he had been out for some ten years, but did not\nknow either.\n\n\"Well,\" said the man, \"I will lend you a pair of snowshoes. When you\nstand in them you will come to my brother, who lives a hundred miles\nfurther on. He is the lord of all the fishes in the sea. Ask him. But do\nnot forget to turn the snowshoes around again.\" The king thanked him,\nstepped into the snowshoes, and when he came to the one who was lord of\nall the fishes in the sea, he turned them around, and they ran back like\nthe others. There he once more asked about Whiteland.\n\nThe man called up his fishes with his horn, but none of them knew\nanything about it. At last there came an old, old carp, whom he had\ncalled with his horn only at the cost of much trouble. When he asked\nhim, he said: \"Yes, I know it well, for I was cook there for fully ten\nyears. To-morrow I have to go back again, because our queen, whose king\nhas not come home again, is going to marry some one else.\" \"If such be\nthe case,\" said the man, \"I'll give you a bit of advice. Out there by\nthe wall three brothers have been standing for the last hundred years,\nfighting with each other about a hat, a cloak and a pair of boots. Any\none who has these three things can make himself invisible, and wish\nhimself away as far as ever he will. You might say that you would test\ntheir possessions, and then decide their quarrel for them.\" Then the\nking thanked him, and did as he said. \"Why do you stand there fighting\ntill the end of time?\" said he to the brothers. \"Let me test your\npossessions if I am to decide your quarrel.\" That suited them; but when\nhe had hat, cloak and boots, he told them: \"I will give you my decision\nthe next time we meet!\" and with that he wished himself far away. While\nhe was flying through the air he happened to meet the North Wind. \"And\nwhere are you going?\" asked the North Wind. \"To Whiteland,\" said the\nking, and then he told him what had happened to him. \"Well,\" said the\nNorth Wind, \"you are traveling a little quicker than I am; for I must\nsweep and blow out every corner. But when you come to your journey's\nend, stand on the steps beside the door, and then I'll come roaring up\nas though I were going to tear down the whole castle. And when the\nprince who is to have the queen comes and looks out to see what it all\nmeans, I'll just take him along with me.\"\n\nThe king did as the North Wind told him. He stationed himself on the\nsteps; and when the North Wind came roaring and rushing up, and laid\nhold of the castle walls till they fairly shook, the prince came out to\nsee what it was all about. But that very moment the king seized him by\nthe collar, and threw him out, and the North Wind took him and carried\nhim off. When he had borne him away, the king went into the castle. At\nfirst the queen did not recognize him, for he had grown thin and pale\nbecause he had wandered so long in his great distress; but when he\nshowed her the ring, she grew glad at heart, and then they had a wedding\nwhich was such a wedding that the news of it spread far and wide.\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    \"The Three Princesses in Whiteland\" (Asbjoernsen and Moe, N.F.E.,\n    p. 38, No. 9), tells a story rich in incident, of the youth who\n    could not hold his tongue.\n\n\n\n\nXVIII\n\nTROUBLE AND CARE\n\n\nFar, far from here there once lived a king, who had three beautiful\ndaughters. But he had no sons, and therefore he grew so fond of the\nthree princesses that he granted their every wish. But in time the enemy\ninvaded the country, and the king had to go to war. When he set out,\nthe oldest princess begged him to buy her a ring that would prevent her\ndying as long as she wore it. The second princess asked him for a wreath\nthat would make her happy whenever she looked at it, no matter how sad\nand troubled her heart might be. \"Buy me trouble and care!\" said the\nyoungest. And the king promised everything.\n\nWhen he had driven the enemy out of his own land, and out of the\nneighboring land as well, and was about to set out for home, he\nremembered what he had promised the three princesses. The ring and the\nwreath were easy enough to obtain; but trouble and care were to be had\nneither in one place nor in another, for all the people were so happy\nthat the enemy had been driven out, that there was no sorrow nor care\nto be found in the entire kingdom. And since he could not buy it, it\nwas not to be had at all, and he had to travel home without it, loathe\nas he was to do so.\n\nWhen he was not far from the castle, his way took him through a thick\nforest. And there sat a squirrel in a tree by the road. \"Buy me! buy me!\nMy name is trouble and care!\" it said. Thought the king to himself, It\nis better to have a squirrel than two empty hands, so he brought it\nalong for his youngest daughter. And she was quite as well pleased with\nher present as her two sisters were with the ring and the wreath. The\nsquirrel played about in her room, sometimes it balanced itself on the\nbed-posts, at others it would sit on the top of the wardrobe, and it\nalways had a great deal to chatter about.\n\nBut as soon as it grew dark, it turned into a man. And he told her how\nan evil and malicious giantess dwelt in the golden forest, who had\nturned him into a squirrel because he would not marry her. During the\nnight she had no power over him; but every morning at daybreak he had\nto slip back into his squirrel form.\n\nAnd in the course of time the princess actually wanted to marry Trouble\nand Care; but when they were betrothed, he begged her earnestly, and as\nbest he knew how, never to light a light at night, and try to look at\nhim, \"for then both of us would be unhappy,\" said he. No, said she, she\nwould be quite sure not to do so.\n\nAnd every evening, when the princess had lain down and blown out the\nlight, she would hear a man go into Trouble and Care's room; but when\nmorning dawned, the squirrel sat on her bed-post and greeted her, and\nchattered and babbled about all sorts of things.\n\nOnce, when she thought Trouble and Care had gone to sleep, she could not\nhelp herself; but stood up quietly, lit a light and crept softly into\nhis room and to his bed, and when the ray of light fell on him, she saw\nthat he was far, far handsomer than the most handsome prince. He was\nso surpassingly handsome that she bent over him in order to see more\nclearly, and finally she could not help herself, but had to kiss him.\nAnd then, three drops of wax from the candle fell on his chest, and he\nawoke.\n\n\"But how could you have done this!\" he cried, and was quite unhappy.\n\"Had you only waited three days longer, I should have been free!\" said\nhe. \"But now I must return to the evil giantess and marry her, and all\nis over between us.\" \"Can I not follow you there?\" asked the princess.\n\"No, that is something you could not do in all your days, for if you\nrest or even so much as bend your knees to sit down, you will go back\nduring the night as far as you came forward during the day,\" said he;\nleaped to the door, and disappeared.\n\nThen the princess wept and wailed, and waited for him to return; but she\nheard and saw nothing more of him. After a few days she grew so restless\nand wretched that she could no longer remain at home, and implored her\nmaid to go along with her to search for the golden forest. The girl\nfinally allowed herself to be moved; but she would not agree to set out\nuntil she had gotten together a yard of drilling, a yard of ticking,\nand a yard of fine linen; and she got them at once, as you may imagine,\nfor there was no shortage of such things in the castle.\n\nSo they set out and wandered far, and ever farther, until their feet\nached, and their spirits fell. Toward evening they came into the middle\nof a thick, dark forest; and climbed up into a high tree. The princess\nwas so tired that the maid had to hold her in her arms while she slept a\nlittle. But during the night the ground about the tree grew alive with\nwolves, in the most sinister fashion, and they howled and cried, so that\nthe princess did not venture to close her eyes another moment. But when\ndaylight appeared in the skies, it seemed as though the wolves had\nsuddenly all been blown away.\n\nThe following day they wandered far and ever farther, until their feet\nached more, and their spirits sank lower. Toward evening they again came\nto the middle of a thick, dark forest. And they once more climbed into a\nhigh, high tree; but the princess was so tired that the maid had to hold\nher in her arms while she slept a little. When it grew darker, a most\nalarming number of bears flocked together under the tree, and began to\ndance and turn in a circle, with alarming speed, and all at once they\ntried to climb the tree. So the princess and her maid had to stand up in\nthe tree-top the whole night through, and could not close an eye; but\nwhen day came, it seemed as though the bears sank into the earth in a\nsingle moment.\n\nThe third day they wandered far and ever farther, and then a bit more.\nToward evening they again came to a thick, dark forest. There they again\nclimbed into a high, high tree; but no sooner were they up in the tree\nthan the ground beneath the tree and the whole forest were alive with\nlions, and they all roared and howled together in such a gruesome way\nthat the echoes came back from rock and woodland. Suddenly they began\nto dance and whirl around in such a terrible fashion that the earth\ntrembled, and in between they would clutch the tree again, and try to\nshake and loosen it, as though they would pull it out root and branch.\nThe princess and her maid had to stand up in the very tree-top, and\nthough they were so tired they could have fallen down from time to time,\nneither of them dared think of sleeping. But the moment day dawned, the\nlions all suddenly disappeared from the face of the earth, where they\nwere, walking and standing.\n\nThen they stumbled along, this way and that, the whole day long, until\ntheir feet ached harder than hard, and their spirits sank lower than\nlow. They lost path and direction, and though they hunted north and\nsouth and east and west, they could not find the way out of the great,\ndark forest.\n\nAt last the princess grew tired and sad beyond all measure, and wanted\nto sit down every moment, in order to rest a little; but the maid held\nher and dragged her forward, and never let her bend her knees for a\nmoment to sit down, because then they would have gone back just as far\nas they had come that day; for you must know that the giantess in the\ngolden forest had so arranged matters.\n\nIn the evening they came to an enormous, horrible rock. \"I will knock\nhere,\" said the maid, and tapped and knocked. \"O no,\" said the princess,\n\"please don't knock here, you can see how ugly everything is here!\"\n\"Who is knocking there at my door?\" cried the giantess in the rock, in\na loud, harsh manner, opened the door, and stuck her nose--it was all of\na yard long--out through the crack.\n\n\"The youngest princess and her maid, they want to get to a prince in the\ngolden forest, whose name is Trouble and Care,\" was the maid's reply.\n\n\"O, faugh!\" cried the giantess, \"that is so far to the north that one\ncan neither sail nor row there. But what do you want of Trouble and\nCare? Is this, perhaps, the princess who wanted to marry him?\" asked the\ngiantess. Yes, this was the princess. \"Well, she will never get him as\nlong as she lives,\" said the giantess, \"for now he must marry the great\ngiantess in the golden forest. You might just as well go back home now\nas later,\" said she. No, they would not turn back for anything, and the\nmaid asked whether it would not be possible for her to take them in for\nthe darkest part of the night. \"I can take you in easily enough,\" said\nthe giantess, \"but when my husband comes home he will tear off your\nheads, and eat you up!\" But there was no help for it, they could not go\non in the middle of the night. Then the maid pulled out the yard of\nticking, and gave it to the giantess for linen. \"It can't be true! It\ncan't be true!\" cried she. \"Here I have been married all of a hundred\nyears, and have never yet had any ticking!\" And she was so pleased that\nshe invited the wanderers in, received them kindly, and took the best\ncare of them. After a while, when they had strengthened themselves with\nfood and drink, the giantess said to them: \"Yes, he is a ferocious\nfellow, is my husband, and I will have to hide you in the anteroom.\nPerhaps he will not find you then.\" And she prepared a bed for them, as\nsoft and comfortable as a bed can be; but they did not care to lie down\nin it, nor sit in it; no, they could not even close their eyes, for they\nhad to watch to see that their knees did not bend. So they stood the\nwhole night through, and took turns holding each other up, for by now\nthe maid was so weary and wretched that she was ready to give in.\n\nToward midnight it began to thunder and rumble in a terrible manner.\nThis was the troll coming home; and no sooner had he thrust his first\nhead in at the door than he cried out loudly and harshly: \"Faugh! faugh!\nI smell Christian bodies!\" and he rushed about in so wild and furious a\nmanner that the sparks flew. \"Yes,\" said the giantess, \"a bird flew past\nwith a bone from a Christian, and he let it drop down the chimney. I\nthrew it out again as quickly as I could, but perhaps one can smell it\nstill,\" said the giantess, and soothed him again. And he was satisfied\nwith her explanation. But the next morning the giantess told him that\nthe youngest princess and her maid had come in search of a prince named\nTrouble and Care, in the golden forest. \"O faugh! that is so far to the\nnorth that one can neither sail nor row there!\" the troll at once cried.\n\"It is the princess who wanted to marry him, I know, but she will never\nget him as long as she lives, for he has to marry the great giantess in\nthree days' time. But the maidens shall not get away from me! Where are\nthey, where are they?\" he cried, and sniffed and snuffed about in every\ncorner. \"O no, you must not touch them,\" said the giantess. \"They have\ngiven me a yard of ticking, and here I have been married now for more\nthan a hundred years, and have never owned any ticking. Therefore you\nmust lend them your seven-mile waistcoat to the nearest neighbor,\" said\nthe giantess, and pleaded for the girls. And the troll was willing when\nhe heard how kind they had been to his wife.\n\nWhen they had eaten and were ready to travel, he put his seven-mile\nwaistcoat on them: \"And now you must repeat: 'Forward over willow bush\nand pine-tree, over hill and dale, to the nearest neighbor,'\" said he.\n\"And when you get there you must say: 'You are to be hung up this\nevening where you were put on this morning!'\" The maidens did as he\nsaid, and were carried for miles, over hill and dale. In the evening, at\ndusk, they again came to a great, ugly rock. There they pulled off the\nseven-mile waistcoat and said: \"You are to be hung up this evening where\nyou were put on this morning,\" and then the waistcoat ran home by\nitself.\n\n\"I will knock here,\" said the maid, and knocked and thumped on the\nrock. \"O no,\" said the princess, \"please do not knock here. You can see\nhow sinister everything is here!\" \"Who is thumping at my door?\" cried\nthe giantess inside the rock, more loudly and harshly than the first\none, and she opened the door and thrust her nose, that was all of two\nyards long, right through the crack. \"Here stand the youngest princess\nand her maid, and they are looking for a prince named Trouble and Care,\nwho lives in the golden forest,\" answered the maid. And then this\ngiantess also said it was so far north that one could neither sail nor\nrow there, and wanted them to turn back by all means. \"You might just as\nwell turn back now as later,\" said she. But this the maidens did not\nwant to do at all, and the maid asked whether she would not, perhaps,\ntake them in for the night, and if it were only the darkest part of the\nnight. \"Yes, I can take you in easily enough,\" said the giantess, \"but\nwhen my husband comes home to-night, he will tear off your heads and eat\nyou up!\" Then the maid pulled out a yard of drilling, and gave it to the\ngiantess for linen. \"It can't be true! It can't be true! here I have\nbeen married now for over two hundred years, and I have never yet had\nany drilling in the house,\" cried the giantess, and she was so pleased\nthat she invited them in, and received them kindly, and saw that they\nwanted for nothing. After a while, when they had strengthened themselves\nwith food and drink, the giantess said: \"Yes, he is a ferocious fellow,\nis my husband, and he eats up every Christian who comes here, root and\nbranch. I'll have to put you in the anteroom, perhaps he will not find\nyou there,\" and she prepared a bed for the maidens. But they did not\ndare either to lie down nor sit on it, not for a single moment, for they\nhad to watch to see that they did not bend their knees. So they stood\nthere the whole night through, and took turns holding each other up,\nwhile each snatched a little sleep.\n\nToward midnight it began to rumble and thunder in such a terrible manner\nthat they could feel the earth tremble beneath them. Then the troll came\nrushing in. \"Faugh! faugh! I smell Christian bodies!\" he cried out\nloudly and harshly, and thrashed about in such a furious way that the\nsparks flew from him as from a fire. \"Yes,\" said the giantess, \"a bird\nflew by, and let a bone from a Christian fall through the chimney. I\nthrew it out again as quickly as I could, but it may well be the case\nthat the smell still lingers,\" said she, and quieted her husband. And he\nwas satisfied with her explanation. But when he got up in the morning,\nshe told him that the youngest princess and her maid had come in search\nof a prince named Trouble and Care, in the golden forest. When the troll\nheard that, he also said that it was so far north that one could neither\nsail nor row there. \"That is the princess who wanted to marry him. Yes,\nI know; but she will never get him as long as she lives, for he must\nmarry the great giantess herself in two days' time,\" said the troll.\n\"And where are they, these maidens? They shall not escape from me with\ntheir lives!\" he shouted, and sniffed and snuffed about everywhere. \"O\nno, you must not harm them!\" said the giantess, and told him that they\nhad given her a yard of drilling for linen. \"Therefore you must lend\nthem your seven-mile waistcoat to the nearest neighbor,\" said she. And\nhe was willing at once, when he heard how kind they had been to his\ngiantess. When they had eaten in the morning, he put his seven-mile\nwaistcoat on them. \"When you reach your goal, you need only say: 'Where\nyou were put on this morning, there you are to hang again to-night!'\nand then the seven-mile waistcoat will travel home by itself,\" said the\ntroll. Then they were carried for miles, over hill and dale, on and on.\nIn the evening, at dusk, they again came to a great, ugly rock.\n\n\"I will knock here!\" said the maid, and knocked and thumped on the rock.\n\"O no,\" said the princess, \"please do not knock here, you can see how\nsinister everything looks here!\" \"Who is thumping at my door?\" the\ngiantess cried inside the rock, in a ruder and harsher manner than the\nother two giantesses, and she opened the door just far enough so that\nshe could thrust her nose, which was all of three yards long, through\nthe crack. \"Here stand the youngest princess and her maid, in search of\na prince named Trouble and Care, who lives in the golden forest,\" was\nthe maid's reply. \"O faugh!\" cried the giantess, \"that is so far to the\nnorth that one can neither sail nor row there. But what do you want of\nTrouble and Care? Is this, perhaps, the princess who wanted to marry\nhim?\" asked the giantess. Yes, this was the princess, was the maid's\nreply. Then this giantess said in turn: \"He must marry the great\ngiantess in the golden forest, so you might just as well turn back home\nnow as later!\" But this the maidens did not want to do at all, and the\nmaid asked whether, perhaps, she would not take them in for the night,\nand if it were only for the very darkest part of the night.\n\n\"Yes, I can take you in easily enough,\" said the giantess, \"but when my\nhusband comes home to-night he will tear off your heads and eat you up!\"\nBut there was nothing else to do; they could not travel on through the\nwood and wilderness, in the very darkest part of the night. Then the\nmaid pulled out the yard of linen and made the giantess a present of it.\n\"It can't be true! It can't be true!\" cried she. \"Here I have been\nmarried now for more than three hundred years, and have never yet had a\nbit of linen!\" And she was so pleased that she invited the maidens in,\nand received them kindly, and let them want for nothing. \"He is a\nferocious fellow, is my husband, and he does away with every Christian\nsoul that strays here,\" she said, when her guests had eaten. \"But I will\nhide you in the anteroom. Perhaps he will not find you there.\" Then she\ncarefully made up a soft bed for them, as fine as the finest in the\nworld. But now the princess was weary and wretched and sleepy beyond all\nmeasure. She could no longer stand up at all, and finally had to lie\ndown and sleep a little, and even though it were but a tiny little\nwhile. The maid was also so weary and wretched that she fell asleep\nstanding, and fell over from time to time. Yet she still managed to keep\nher wits about her to the extent of seizing the princess, and holding\nher up, so that she did not bend her knees. Toward midnight it began to\nrumble and thunder so that the whole house shook, and it seemed as\nthough the roof and walls would fall in. This was the great troll, who\nwas coming home. When he thrust his first nose in at the door, he at\nonce cried out in a manner so wild and harsh that the like had never\nbeen heard before: \"Faugh! faugh! I smell Christian bodies!\" and he fell\ninto a white rage, so that sparks and flame flew from him. \"Yes, a bird\nflew by, and let a bone from a Christian fall through the chimney. I\nthrew it out as quickly as ever I could; but it may be that the smell\nstill persists!\" said the giantess, and tried to pacify her troll. And\nhe was satisfied with her explanation. But when he awoke in the morning,\nshe told him that the youngest princess and her maid had come in search\nof a prince named Trouble and Care, who lived in the golden forest. \"O\nfaugh! That is so far north that one can neither sail nor row there!\"\ncried the great troll, just as the smaller trolls had. \"But she will\nnever get him as long as she lives, for to-morrow he must marry the\ngreat giantess. Where are they, these maidens? Hm, hm, hm, they will\nmake tasty eating!\" he cried, and danced around everywhere, and sniffed\nand snuffed with all his nine noses at once. \"O no, you must not harm\nthem!\" cried the giantess. \"They have given me a yard of linen, and here\nI have been married for more than three hundred years, and have never\nhad a bit of linen yet. Therefore you must lend them your seven-mile\nwaistcoat to the nearest neighbor.\" And when the super-troll heard that\nthe maidens had been so kind, he was agreeable.\n\nWhen they had strengthened themselves in the morning, he put his\nseven-mile waistcoat on them. \"And now you must repeat: 'On, on!\nOver willow brush and pine tree, over hill and dale, to the nearest\nneighbor.' And when you reach your goal, you need only say: 'You must\nhang again to-night on the nail from which you were taken down this\nmorning!'\" said the great troll. They did as he had told them, and were\ncarried farther and farther along, over hills and deep valleys.\n\nAt dusk they came to a large, large forest, where all the trees were\nblack as coal. If one only so much as touched them, they made one look\nlike a chimney-sweep. And in the middle of the forest was a clearing,\nand there stood a wretched hut, ready to fall apart; it was only held\ntogether by two beams, and looked more forlorn than the most wretched\nherdsman's hut. And in front of the door lay a rubbish heap of old\nshoes, dirty rags and other ugly stuff. Here the maid took off the\nseven-mile waistcoat, and said: \"You must hang again to-night from the\nnail from which you were taken down this morning!\" and the waistcoat\nwandered home all by itself.\n\n\"I will knock here!\" said the maid. \"O no, O no,\" wailed the princess,\n\"please do not knock here, you can see how ugly everything is!\" \"If you\ndo not do as I do, then it will be the worse for both of us!\" said the\nmaid; trampled through the rubbish-pile and knocked. An old, old\ntroll-woman with a nose all of three yards long, looked out through the\ncrack in the door. \"If you girls want to come in, then come in, and if\nyou do not want to, you can stay out!\" said she, and made as though\nto close the door in their faces. \"Yes, indeed, we want to come in,\"\nreplied the maid, and drew the princess in with her. \"If you girls want\nto come through the door, then come through, but if you do not want to,\nyou can stay out,\" the woman said once more. \"Yes, thanks, we want to\ncome in,\" said the maid, and tramped over the threshold through the dirt\nand rags. \"Alas, alas!\" wailed the princess, and tramped after her. All\nwas black and ugly inside, and as grimy and dirty as a corn-loft. After\na while the giantess went out, and fetched them some milk to drink.\n\"If you girls want to drink, why, drink, and if you do not, why, do\nwithout!\" said she, and was about to carry it out again. \"Yes, thanks,\nwe want to drink,\" said the maid, and drank. \"Alas, alas!\" wailed the\nprincess, when it came her turn, for the milk was in a pig-trough, and\ndirt and clots of hair were swimming in it. Then the giantess gave them\nsomething to eat. \"If you girls want to eat, why, eat, and if you do\nnot, why, do without,\" said the giantess. \"Yes, indeed, we will be glad\nto,\" said the maid, before the ugly nosey could take the food away\nagain. The bread was moldly, mice had been nibbling at the cheese, the\nmeat was so old that one could smell it at a distance, and two dirty\ncalves' tails were draped about the butter. \"Alas, alas!\" wailed the\nprincess, and was ready to cry; but she had to do what her maid did, and\ntaste the horrible dishes. Then they had to say they were much obliged.\nAn old man, whom thus far they had not seen, lay on a bed covered with a\nfew old odds and ends of fur and other rags. When they went up to him\nto thank him, he stood up, and when the princess gave him her hand he\nkissed it; and at that very moment he turned into a prince handsome\nbeyond all measure, and the princess saw that he was Trouble and Care,\nfor whom she had so greatly longed. \"Now you have delivered me!\" he\nsaid. \"Woe to whoever has delivered you!\" cried the giantess, and rushed\nout of the door; but on the door-step she stood like a stone, for the\nforest was no longer black, and all the trees looked as though they had\nbeen gilded from root to crest, and glittered and sparkled more brightly\nthan the sun at noon-day. The wretched, dirty hut had changed into a\nroyal castle, immensely large and handsome. One might have thought that\nthe roof and walls were made of the purest gold and silver, and so they\nwere. \"Now you may bend your knee again,\" said the prince, \"and if you\nhave hitherto known nothing but sorrow and care, you shall henceforth\nknow all the more happiness.\"\n\nThe old giantess had brewed and baked, and prepared the whole wedding\ndinner. And when the next day dawned, the prince and the princess, and\nall the people in the castle, and in the whole country over which he was\nking, celebrated the wedding. And it lasted for four times fourteen\ndays, so that the news spread through seven kingdoms, and reached the\nbride's father and her two sisters. And they would have celebrated it\nwith them, had they not been so far away. I was invited to the feast\nmyself, and the bridegroom made me chief cook, and I had to speak the\ntoast for the bride and groom. But on the last day of the feast, I had\nto draw mead from a large, large cask that lay at the farthest end of\nthe cellar. Before I sent off the filled jug, I took a taste myself, and\nthe mead was so strong that it suddenly went to my head, and I flew\nthrough the air like a bird, and there I was, floating between heaven\nand earth for full nine years, and then I fell down here in the village,\nin front of the house up there on the hill. And out came Bertha\nFriendly, with a letter for me from the prince, who had become king in\nthe meantime, and the letter said that he and the young queen were doing\nwell, and that they sent me their greetings, and that I was to greet\nyou for them, and that you and your sisters were invited to the castle\nSunday after Michaelmas, and then you should see a pair of dear little\nprinces, the golden forest, and the old stone giantess, who stands\nbefore the door with her nose three yards long.\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    The story of Cupid and Psyche is the most celebrated\n    representative of the type of fairy-tale to which \"Trouble and\n    Care\" belongs (Hallv. E. Bergh, _Nye Folkeeventyr og Sagn fra\n    Valdres og Hallindal_, Coll. III, Christiania, 1882, No. 1). The\n    northern peoples take special pleasure in tales of faithful women,\n    who try to reach their vanished lovers by means of wearisome and\n    difficult wanderings. Peculiar is the transformation of the lover\n    into a squirrel, in this tale, and the condition that the poor\n    princess must not bend her knees, that is, sit or crouch down,\n    during her long journey. The end is a typical fairy-tale close,\n    such as the narrator likes to add, without any inner relationship\n    to the story itself.\n\n\n\n\nXIX\n\nKARI WOODENCOAT\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a king whose wife had died, but he had a\ndaughter who was so good and so beautiful that no one could have been\nkinder or lovelier than she. The king mourned a long time for the queen,\nbecause he had loved her greatly; but in the course of time he grew\nweary of his lonely life, and married again with the widow of another\nking, who also had a daughter; but one who was just as ugly and evil\nas the other was handsome and kind. The step-mother and daughter were\njealous of the king's daughter, because she was so handsome; yet so long\nas the king was at home, they did not dare harm her, for he was very\nfond of her. But after a time, the king began to war against another\nking, and went out to battle. Then the queen thought she now could do as\nshe wished, and she let the king's daughter starve, and beat and pushed\nher about everywhere. At last everything else was too good for her, and\nshe had to herd the cows. So she went out with the cows, and pastured\nthem in the forest or on the hill. Food she had little or none, and she\ngrew pale and thin, and was sad most of the time, and wept. In the herd\nthere was also a great blue bull, who always kept himself neat and\nclean, and often came to the queen's daughter and let her scratch him.\nOnce, as she sat there and cried and was sad, he came to her again,\nand asked why she was so unhappy. She did not answer him but kept on\nweeping. \"Well, I know what your trouble is,\" said the bull, \"even\nthough you will not tell me. You are weeping because the queen is so\nunkind to you, and would gladly starve you to death. But you need not\nworry about food, for in my left ear is a cloth and, if you will take it\nout and spread it, you can have as much as you want to eat.\" She did so,\ntook out the cloth, laid it on the grass, and it was at once covered\nwith the finest dishes one might desire: bread and mead and honey-cake.\nThen she soon regained her strength, and grew so plump, and so rose and\nwhite complexioned that the queen and her daughter, who was as thin as a\nrail, turned green and yellow with envy. The queen could not understand\nhow it was that her step-daughter came to look so well in spite of such\npoor fare. So she told a maid to follow her to the forest, and watch and\nsee how it came about; for she thought some of the servants secretly\ngave her food. The maid followed her into the forest, and watched\ncarefully, and saw how the step-daughter drew the cloth out of the blue\nbull's left ear, and spread it out, and how it covered itself with the\nfinest dishes, and also how the king's daughter ate heartily. And the\nmaid told the queen at home about it.\n\nNow the king came home, and he had defeated the other king, against whom\nhe had warred; and the whole castle was overjoyed, and none was more\njoyful than the king's daughter. But the queen pretended to be ill, and\ngave the physician a great deal of money so that he should say that she\ncould not recover unless she had some of the blue bull's flesh to eat.\nThe king's daughter and others as well asked the physician whether\nnothing else would do, and pleaded for the bull; for all liked him, and\nsaid that there was not such another in the whole kingdom. But no, he\nmust be slaughtered, and he should be slaughtered, and there was no help\nfor it. When the king's daughter heard this, she felt sad, and went into\nthe stable to the bull. He stood and hung his head, and looked so\nmournful that she could not keep from weeping. \"Why do you weep?\" asked\nthe bull. Then she told him that the king had come home, and that the\nqueen had pretended to be ill, and had forced the physician to say that\nshe could not recover unless she had some of the blue bull's flesh to\neat, and that now he was to be slaughtered. \"Once she has done away with\nme, it will not be long before she does away with you,\" said the bull.\n\"But if it suits you, we will run away from here to-night.\" The king's\ndaughter did say that it would be bad enough to leave her father, but\nthat at the same time it would be worse to remain under the same roof\nwith the queen, and so she promised the bull to go with him.\n\nIn the evening, while the rest were asleep, the king's daughter crept\ndown to the bull in the stable. He took her on his back, and ran off\nas quickly as ever he could. And when the people rose the following\nmorning, and wanted to slaughter the bull, he was gone; and when the\nking rose and asked for his daughter, she was gone as well. The king\nsent out messengers on all sides, and had the church-bells rung for her,\nbut no one had seen anything of her.\n\nIn the meantime the bull trotted through many lands with the king's\ndaughter, and they came to a great copper forest, whose trees, leaves\nand flowers were all of copper. But before they entered it, the bull\nsaid to the king's daughter: \"Now when we get into the forest you must\nbe very careful not to touch so much as a single leaf, or else it is all\nup with you and with me; for a troll with three heads lives here, and\nthe forest belongs to him.\" Yes, indeed, she would be careful, and not\ntouch anything. And she was very careful, and leaned to one side, and\nthrust aside the branches; but the forest was so thick that it was\nalmost impossible to win through, and for all that she was so careful,\nshe did tear off a leaf, and it remained in her hand.\n\n\"Alas, alas!\" cried the bull. \"What have you done! Now I must fight for\nmy very life. But see that you keep the leaf carefully!\" Straightway\nthey reached the end of the forest, and at once a troll with three heads\ncame rushing up. \"Who has touched my forest?\" cried he. \"The forest is\nas much mine as yours!\" was the bull's reply. \"We'll see if it is!\"\nshouted the troll. \"That suits me!\" cried the bull. Then they rushed at\neach other, and the bull gored and butted with might and main. But the\ntroll was just as strong, and it took all day before the bull gained the\nupper hand. And then he had so many wounds, and was so weak that he\ncould scarcely walk. So they had to halt for a whole day; but the bull\ntold the queen's daughter to take the horn of ointment that hung at the\ntroll's girdle, and anoint him with the salve. Thereupon he grew strong\nand well again, and they went on the next day. Now they wandered for\nmany, many days, and at last came to a silver forest, whose trees,\nbranches, leaves, buds and all were of silver.\n\nBefore the bull entered the forest he said to the king's daughter: \"Now\nwhen we get into this forest, in heaven's name be careful! You must\ntouch nothing, and not even tear off so much as a single leaf, or else\nit is all up with you and me. A troll with six heads lives here, and the\nforest belongs to him, and I will hardly be able to hold my own against\nhim!\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said the king's daughter, \"indeed I will be careful, and not\ntouch the least thing, just as you have told me.\" But when they entered\nthe forest, it was so thick that it was almost impossible to win\nthrough. She was as careful as she could be, and avoided the branches,\nand thrust them aside with her hands; but the branches struck her in the\nface each moment, and in spite of all her care a leaf did remain in her\nhand.\n\n\"Alas, alas!\" cried the bull. \"What have you done! Now I must fight for\nmy very life, for the troll with six heads is twice as strong as the\nfirst one; but see that you take care of the leaf and keep it\ncarefully!\"\n\nAt once the troll came rushing up. \"Who has touched my forest?\" cried\nhe. \"The forest is as much mine as yours!\" cried the bull. \"Oho, we'll\nsee if it is!\" cried the troll. \"That suits me!\" said the bull, and\nrushed on the troll, gored him, and thrust his horns right through him.\nBut the troll was just as strong, and it took three whole days before\nthe bull got the better of him. After that he was so weak and feeble\nthat he could scarcely move, and so full of wounds that his blood ran in\nstreams. Then he told the king's daughter to take the horn of ointment\nthat hung at the troll's girdle, and anoint him with the salve. She did\nso, and he recovered again: yet they had to remain a time on the spot,\nuntil he was once more able to go on.\n\nAt last they set out again; but the bull was still weak, and at first\nthey went slowly. The king's daughter wanted to spare him, and said she\nwas young and quick on her feet, and could walk very well; but this he\nwould not allow, and she had to sit on his back. Thus they wandered for\na long time, and through many lands, and the king's daughter had no idea\nwhere they might be going; but at length they came to a golden forest.\nIt was very beautiful, and the gold dripped down from it, for the trees,\nand branches and leaves and buds were all of purest gold. And here all\nwent as it had in the copper and silver forests. The bull told the\nking's daughter that in no case was she to touch anything, since a\ntroll with nine heads lived here, to whom the forest belonged. And he\nwas much larger and stronger than the two others together, and he did\nnot believe he could hold his own against him. Yes, said she, she would\nbe sure to pay attention and positively would not touch a thing. But\nwhen they entered the forest, it was even thicker than the silver\nforest, and the further they went the worse it became. The forest\ngrew thicker and denser, and at last it seemed as though it would be\nimpossible to push on at all. She was much afraid of tearing off\nanything, and wound and twisted and bent herself in every direction, in\norder to avoid the branches, and thrust them aside with her hands. But\neach moment they struck her in the face, so that she could not see where\nshe was reaching, and before she had a chance to think, she held a\ngolden apple in her hand. Then she was terribly frightened, and began to\ncry, and wanted to throw it away. But the bull told her to keep it, and\nhide it carefully, and consoled her as best he could. Yet he thought\nthat the battle would be a hard one, and was in doubt as to whether it\nwould end well.\n\nBut now the troll with the nine heads came rushing up, and he was so\nfrightful that the king's daughter could scarcely bear to look at him.\n\"Who has touched my forest?\" he shouted. \"The forest is as much mine as\nyours!\" cried the bull. \"We'll see if it is!\" cried the troll. \"That\nsuits me!\" said the bull, and with this they rushed on each other, so\nthat it was a fearsome sight, and the king's daughter nearly fainted.\nThe bull gored the troll through and through with his horns; but the\ntroll was as strong as he, and as soon as the bull killed one of his\nheads, the others breathed fresh life into it, and it took a full week\nbefore the bull got the better of him. But then he was so wretched and\nso weak that he could not move a bit. His whole body was covered with\nwounds; and he could not even tell the king's daughter to take the horn\nof ointment from the troll's girdle and anoint him with the salve. But\nshe did so of her own accord, and then he recovered again. Yet they had\nto stay where they were for three whole weeks, until he was able to go\non again.\n\nAt last they once more went slowly on their way; for the bull said they\nstill had a little further to go, and they went over many great hills\nand through thick forests. After a time they came to a rock. \"Do you see\nanything?\" asked the bull. \"No, I see only the sky and the rock,\" said\nthe king's daughter. But when they went on up the hills were more level,\nso that they had a broader outlook. \"Do you see something now?\" asked\nthe bull. \"Yes, I see a small castle, far, far in the distance,\" said\nthe princess. \"And yet it is not so small,\" said the bull. At length\nthey came to a great mountain with a steep, rocky face. \"Do you see\nsomething now?\" asked the bull. \"Yes, now I see the castle close by, and\nit is much, much larger,\" said the king's daughter. \"That is where you\nmust go!\" said the bull. \"Just below the castle is a pig-sty, and if you\ngo into it you will find a wooden coat. You must put it on, and go with\nit into the castle, and say your name is Kari Woodencoat, and ask for a\nplace. But now take your little knife and cut off my head; then draw off\nmy skin, roll it up and lay it at the foot of the rock. But in it you\nmust place the copper leaf, and the silver leaf, and the golden apple.\nOutside, against the hill, is a stick, and if you want anything of me,\nall you need do is to knock at the mountain-side.\" At first the princess\ncould not at all make up her mind to do this; but when the bull told her\nthat this was the only reward he wanted for all the good he had done\nher, she could not refuse. It made her heart ache, yet in spite of it,\nshe took her knife and cut until she had cut off the head of the great\nbeast, and had drawn off his skin, and then she laid the latter at the\nfoot of the rock, and in it she placed the copper leaf, and the silver\nleaf, and the golden apple.\n\nWhen she had done this she went to the pig-sty, but she wept a great\ndeal and felt sad. Then she put on the wooden coat, and went to the\nking's castle in it. She asked for a place in the kitchen, and said her\nname was Kari Woodencoat. Yes, said the cook, she might have a place if\nshe cared to wash up, for the girl who had formerly attended to it had\nrun away. \"And after you have been here a while, no doubt you will have\nenough of it, and run away from us, too,\" said he. No, indeed, she would\nnot do so.\n\nShe was most industrious at her washing up. On Sunday they expected\ncompany at the king's castle; and Kari asked permission to take up\nwater to wash in to the prince. But the others laughed at her and cried;\n\"What do you want to do there? Do you think the prince will have\nanything to do with you, homely as you are?\" But she kept on asking, and\nat length received permission.\n\nAnd then, as she ran up the stairs, her wooden coat clattered so loudly\nthat the prince came out and asked: \"And who are you?\" \"I came to bring\nyou water to wash in,\" said Kari. \"Do you think I want the water you are\nbringing me?\" cried the prince, and poured the water out over her head.\nSo she had to go off; but she asked permission to go to church. And she\nreceived permission, for the church was close by. But first she went to\nthe rock and knocked at it with a stick, as the bull had told her. And a\nman came out at once and asked what she wanted. The king's daughter said\nthat she had permission to go to church and hear the sermon, but that\nshe had no dress to wear. Then the man gave her a dress that shone like\nthe copper forest, and a horse and a saddle as well. When she came to\nchurch she looked so beautiful that all the people wondered who she\nmight be, and none of them listened to the sermon, because they were all\nlooking at her. She even pleased the prince so much that he could not\nkeep from looking at her.\n\nWhen she left the church, the prince came after her, and closed the\nchurch door behind her, and kept one of the gloves she wore in his hand.\nAnd then when she wanted to mount her horse, the prince came again, and\nasked her where she came from. \"From Washwaterland!\" said Kari, and\nwhile the prince pulled out the glove and wanted to give it to her, she\nsaid:\n\n      \"Be there light before me, and darkness behind,\n      That the place I ride to the prince may not find!\"\n\nThe prince had never yet seen such a handsome glove, and he traveled\nfar, looking for the native land of the noble lady who had abandoned her\nglove, but no one could tell him where it might be.\n\nThe following Sunday some one had to go up to the prince, and bring him\na towel. \"Cannot I go up?\" begged Kari. \"Is that all you want?\" said the\nrest in the kitchen. \"You saw yourself what happened to you the last\ntime!\" But Kari kept on asking, and finally she received permission,\nafter all, and ran up the stairs so that her wooden coat fairly\nclattered. The prince at once thrust his head out of the door, and when\nhe saw that it was Kari, he tore the towel out of her hand and flung it\nat her head. \"Off with you, you horrid creature!\" cried he. \"Do you\nthink I want a towel that you have touched with your dirty fingers?\"\n\nAfter that the prince went to church, and Kari also begged permission to\ngo. The people asked her why she wanted to go to church, since she had\nnothing to wear but her ugly, black wooden coat. But Kari said the\npastor preached so beautifully that she loved to listen to him, and\nfinally they allowed her to go. She went to the wall of rock and\nknocked, and the man came out and gave her a dress that was far\nhandsomer than the first; it was embroidered all over with silver, and\ngleamed like the silver forest; and she also received a splendid horse,\nwith housings embroidered with silver, and a silver bridle. When the\nking's daughter came to the church, the people were still standing\nbefore the church door. In their astonishment they all asked each other\nwho she might be, and the prince came running up at once, and wanted to\nhold her horse while she dismounted. But she jumped right down, and said\nit would not be necessary, since the horse was so tame that it would\nstand still when she commanded, and come to her if she wished. Then\nevery one went into the church. But hardly any one paid any attention\nto the sermon; for they were all looking at Kari, and the prince fell\ndeeper in love with her than he had the first time. When the sermon was\nover, and she left the church and was about to mount her horse, the\nprince again came, and asked where she came from. \"From Towelland!\" said\nshe, and let fall her riding-whip. And when the prince stooped to pick\nit up, she said:\n\n      \"Be there light before me, and darkness behind,\n      That the place I ride to the prince may not find!\"\n\nOff she was, and the prince did not know what had become of her. He\nwandered about in the world, far and wide, looking for her native land.\nBut no one could tell him where it might be, and with that the prince\nfinally had to content himself.\n\nThe following Sunday some one was to go up to the prince, and bring him\na comb. Kari begged that they would let her go, but the others reminded\nher of what had happened the last time, and scolded her for showing\nherself to the prince, ugly and black as she was, and in her wooden\ncoat. But she kept on asking, and finally they let her go with the comb.\nWhen she once more came clattering up the stairs, the prince thrust his\nhead out of the door, tore the comb from her hand, and shouted at her to\nbe off. Then the prince went to church, and Kari wanted to go as well.\nThe rest again asked her why she wanted to go to church, black and ugly\nas she was, since she did not even have clothes fit to appear in before\nother people. The prince, or some one else might happen to see her, and\nthat would mean unhappiness for herself and others. But Kari said that\nthe people would have other things to look at besides herself, and\nfinally they let her go.\n\nThen everything happened exactly as on the other two occasions. She went\nto the wall of rock, and knocked with the stick, and then the man came\nout, and gave her a dress that was far more beautiful than both of the\nothers. It was all pure gold and diamonds, and she also received a\nbeautiful horse, with housings embroidered with gold, and a golden\nbridle.\n\nWhen the king's daughter came to the church, the pastor and all the\ncongregation were still standing before the church door, waiting for\nher. The prince came running up at once, and wanted to hold her horse,\nbut she jumped down and said: \"No, thanks, it is not necessary, for my\nhorse is so tame that he will remain standing when I tell him to do so.\"\nSo they all went into the church, and the pastor mounted the pulpit. But\nnot a soul listened to the sermon, because all the people were looking\nat the princess, and wondering where she came from, and the prince fell\nstill more deeply in love than he had on the two other occasions. He\npaid no attention to anything, and looked only at her.\n\nWhen the sermon was over, and the king's daughter left the church, the\nprince had poured tar on the floor of the vestibule, so that he might\nhave a chance to help the king's daughter across. But she paid no\nattention to it, stepped right into the middle of the tar, and leaped\nover. But one of her golden shoes stuck fast, and when she had mounted\nher horse, the prince came running out of the church and asked her\nwhence she came. \"From Combland!\" she answered. But when the prince\nwanted to hand her the golden shoe, she said:\n\n      \"Be there light before me, and darkness behind,\n      That the place I ride to the prince may not find!\"\n\nAnd again the prince did not know where she had gone, and he wandered\nabout the world a long time, looking for Combland; but since no one\ncould tell him where it might be, he let it be known that he would marry\nthe girl whose foot the golden shoe fitted. Then the handsome and the\nhomely came scurrying up from the ends of the earth; but none of them\nhad a foot so small that they could put on the golden shoe. At last\nKari's evil stepmother and her daughter also came, and the shoe fitted\nthe latter. But she was very homely, and looked so unsatisfactory\nthat the prince kept his promise most unwillingly. Notwithstanding,\npreparations were made for the wedding, and she was adorned with her\nbridal finery, but when they rode to church, a little bird sat in a tree\nand sang:\n\n      \"A bit of the heel,\n        And a bit of the toe,\n      Kari Woodencoat's shoe\n        Is filled with blood, I know!\"\n\nAnd when they looked, the bird had told the truth, for blood was\ndripping from the shoe. Then all the maids and all the women who were at\nthe castle had to try on the shoe, but it would fit none of them. \"But\nwhere is Kari Woodencoat?\" asked the prince, for he had understood the\nsong of the bird, and remembered it well. \"O she!\" said the others. \"It\nis not worth while having her come, for she has feet like a horse.\" \"Be\nthat as it may,\" said the prince. \"But all the rest have tried it on, so\nshe shall try it on as well. Kari!\" he called out through the door, and\nKari came clattering up the stairs so that everything shook, just as\nthough a whole regiment of dragoons had arrived. \"Now you shall try on\nthe golden shoe, and be a princess!\" said the others, and made fun of\nher. But Kari took the shoe, put her foot into it without a bit of\ntrouble, cast off her wooden coat, and stood there in her golden dress,\nso that she was all a-sparkle, and on her other foot she had the golden\nshoe's mate. The prince recognized her at once, put his arm around her,\nand kissed her. And she told him that she was a king's daughter, which\nmade him still more happy, and then they celebrated their wedding.\n\n      \"Spin, span, spun,\n      Now our tale is done!\"\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    \"Kari Woodencoat\" (Asbjoernsen and Moe, N.F.E., p. 79, No. 19)\n    proves how arbitrarily the motives of a fairy-tale are sometimes\n    handled. The blue bull helps the maiden out of her difficulties,\n    and we expect that he will turn out to be a handsome prince, or a\n    guardian spirit sent by the deceased mother. Instead of which he\n    disappears from the story with hardly a trace, and Kari marries a\n    foreign prince. The last part of the tale has an independent\n    existence in a Russian fairy-story, \"The Czar's Daughter in the\n    Underground Kingdom.\"\n\n\n\n\nXX\n\nOLA STORBAEKKJEN\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a man in the forest of Dovre whose name was\nOla Storbaekkjen. He was of giant build, powerful and fearless. During\nthe winter he did not work, but traveled from one fair to another,\nhunting up quarrels and brawls. From Christiansmarkt he went to Branaes\nand Konigsberg, and thence to Grundsaet, and wherever he came squabbles\nand brawls broke out, and in every brawl he was the victor. In the\nsummer he dealt in cattle at Valders and the fjords, and fought with the\nfjord-folk and the hill people of Halling and Valders, and always had\nthe best of it. But sometimes they scratched him a bit with the knife,\ndid those folk.\n\nNow once, at the time of the hay harvest, he was home at Baekkjen, and\nhad lain down to take a little after-dinner nap under the penthouse. And\nhe was taken into the hill, which happened in the following way: A man\nwith a pair of gilded goat's horns came along and butted Ola, but Ola\nfell upon him so that the man had to duck back, again and again. But the\nstranger stood up once more, and began to butt again, and finally he\ntook Ola under his arm like a glove, and then both of them flew straight\noff into the hill.\n\nIn the place to which they came all was adorned with silver plates and\ndishes, and with ornaments of silver, and Ola thought that the king\nhimself had nothing finer. They offered him mead, which he drank; but\neat he would not, for the food did not seem to him to be appetizing.\nSuddenly the man with the gilded goat's horns came in, and gave Ola a\nshove before he knew it; but Ola came back at him as before, and so they\nbeat and pulled each other through all the rooms, and along all the\nwalls. Ola was of the opinion that they had been at it all night long;\nbut by that time the scuffle had lasted over fourteen days, and they had\nalready tolled the church bells for him on three successive Thursday\nevenings. On the third Thursday evening he was in ill ease, for the\npeople in the hill had in mind to thrust him forth. When the bells\nstopped ringing, he sat at a crack in the hill, with his head looking\nout. Had not a man come by and happened to spy him, and told the people\nto keep on ringing the church-bells, the hill would have closed over him\nagain, and he would probably still be inside. But when he came out he\nhad been so badly beaten, and was so miserable, that it passed all\nmeasure. The lumps on his head were each bigger than the other, his\nwhole body was black and blue, and he was quite out of his mind. And\nfrom time to time he would leap up, run off and try to get back into the\nhill to take up his quarrel again, and fight for the gilded goat's\nhorns. For those he wanted to break from the giant's forehead.\n\n    NOTE\n\n    A primitive enjoyment of brawling and pummeling is betrayed in the\n    story of \"Ola Storbaekkjen\" (Asbjoernsen, _Huldreeventyr_, II,\n    p. 73. From the vicinity of Osterdalen, told by a\n    reindeer-hunter).\n\n\n\n\nXXI\n\nTHE CAT WHO COULD EAT SO MUCH\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a man who had a cat, and she ate so very\nmuch that he did not want to keep her any longer. So he decided to tie\na stone around her neck, and throw her into the river; but before he\ndid so she was to have something to eat just once more. The woman\noffered her a dish of mush and a little potful of fat. These she\nswallowed, and then jumped out of the window. There stood the man on\nthe threshing-floor.\n\n\"Good-day, man in the house,\" said the cat.\n\n\"Good-day, cat,\" said the man. \"Have you had anything to eat yet\nto-day?\"\n\n\"O, only a little, but my fast has hardly been broken,\" said the cat. \"I\nhave had no more than a dish of mush and a little potful of fat, and I\nam thinking over whether I ought not to eat you as well,\" said she, and\nshe seized the man and ate him up. Then she went into the stable. There\nsat the woman, milking.\n\n\"Good-day, woman in the stable,\" said the cat.\n\n\"Good-day, cat, is that you?\" said the woman. \"Have you eaten your\nfood?\" she asked.\n\n\"O, only a little to-day. My fast has hardly been broken,\" said the cat.\n\"I have had no more than a dish of mush and a little potful of fat and\nthe man in the house, and I'm thinking over whether I ought not to eat\nyou as well,\" said she, and she seized the woman and ate her up.\n\n\"Good-day, cow at the manger,\" said the cat to the bell-cow.\n\n\"Good-day, cat,\" said the bell-cow. \"Have you had anything to eat yet\nto-day?\" \"O, only a little. My fast has hardly been broken,\" said the\ncat. \"I have had no more than a dish of mush and a little potful of fat\nand the man in the house and the woman in the stable, and I'm thinking\nover whether I ought not to eat you as well,\" said the cat, and seized\nthe bell-cow and ate her up. Then she went up to the orchard, and there\nstood a man who was sweeping up leaves.\n\n\"Good-day, leaf-sweeper in the orchard,\" said the cat.\n\n\"Good-day, cat,\" said the man. \"Have you had anything to eat yet\nto-day?\"\n\n\"O, only a little. My fast has hardly been broken,\" said the cat. \"I\nhave had no more than a dish of mush and a little potful of fat and the\nman in the house and the woman in the stable and the bell-cow at the\nmanger, and I'm thinking over whether I ought not to eat you up as\nwell,\" said she, and seized the leaf-sweeper and ate him up.\n\nThen she came to a stone-pile. There stood the weasel, looking about\nhim.\n\n\"Good-day, weasel on the stone-pile,\" said the cat.\n\n\"Good-day, cat,\" said the weasel. \"Have you had anything to eat yet\nto-day?\"\n\n\"O, only a little. My fast has hardly been broken,\" said the cat. \"I\nhave had no more than a dish of mush and a little potful of fat and the\nman in the house and the woman in the stable and the bell-cow at the\nmanger and the leaf-sweeper in the orchard, and I'm thinking over\nwhether I ought not to eat you as well,\" said the cat, and seized the\nweasel and ate him up.\n\nAfter she had gone a while, she came to a hazel-bush. There sat the\nsquirrel, gathering nuts.\n\n\"Good-day, squirrel in the bush,\" said the cat.\n\n\"Good-day, cat! Have you already had anything to eat yet to-day?\" said\nthe squirrel.\n\n\"O, only a little. My fast has hardly been broken,\" said the cat. \"I\nhave had no more than a dish of mush and a little potful of fat and the\nman in the house and the woman in the stable and the bell-cow at the\nmanger and the leaf-sweeper in the orchard and the weasel on the\nstone-pile, and I'm thinking over whether I ought not to eat you up as\nwell,\" said she, and seized the squirrel and ate him up.\n\nAfter she had gone a little while longer, she met Reynard the fox, who\nwas peeping out of the edge of the forest.\n\n\"Good-day, fox, you sly-boots,\" said the cat.\n\n\"Good-day, cat! Have you had anything to eat yet to-day?\" said the fox.\n\n\"O, only a little. My fast has hardly been broken,\" said the cat. \"I\nhave had no more than a dish of mush and a little potful of fat and the\nman in the house and the woman in the stable and the bell-cow at the\nmanger and the leaf-sweeper in the orchard and the weasel on the\nstone-pile and the squirrel in the hazel-bush, and I'm thinking over\nwhether I ought not to eat you as well,\" said she, and seized the fox\nand ate him up too.\n\nWhen she had gone a little further, she met a hare.\n\n\"Good-day, you hopping hare,\" said the cat.\n\n\"Good-day, cat! Have you had anything to eat yet to-day?\" said the hare.\n\n\"O, only a little. My fast has hardly been broken,\" said the cat. \"I\nhave had no more than a dish of mush and a little potful of fat and the\nman in the house and the woman in the stable and the bell-cow at the\nmanger and the leaf-sweeper in the orchard and the weasel on the\nstone-pile and the squirrel in the hazel-bush and the fox, the\nsly-boots, and I'm thinking over whether I ought not to eat you up as\nwell,\" said she, and seized the hare and ate him up.\n\nWhen she had gone a little further, she met a wolf.\n\n\"Good-day, you wild wolf,\" said the cat.\n\n\"Good-day, cat! Have you had anything to eat yet to-day?\" said the wolf.\n\n\"O, only a little. My fast has hardly been broken,\" said the cat. \"I\nhave had no more than a dish of mush and a little potful of fat and the\nman in the house and the woman in the stable and the bell-cow at the\nmanger and the leaf-sweeper in the orchard and the weasel on the\nstone-pile and the squirrel in the hazel-bush and the fox, the\nsly-boots, and the hopping hare, and I'm thinking over whether I ought\nnot to eat you up as well,\" said she, and seized the wolf and ate him\nup, too.\n\nThen she went into the wood, and when she had gone far and farther than\nfar, over hill and dale, she met a young bear.\n\n\"Good-day, little bear brown-coat,\" said the cat.\n\n\"Good-day, cat! Have you had anything to eat yet to-day?\" said the bear.\n\n\"O, only a little. My fast has hardly been broken,\" said the cat. \"I\nhave had no more than a dish of mush and a little pot of fat and the man\nin the house and the woman in the stable and the bell-cow at the manger\nand the leaf-sweeper in the orchard and the weasel on the stone-pile and\nthe squirrel in the hazel-bush and the fox, the sly-boots, and the\nhopping hare and the wild wolf, and I'm thinking over whether I ought\nnot to eat you up as well,\" said she, and seized the little bear and ate\nhim up.\n\nWhen the cat had gone a bit further, she met the mother bear, who was\nclawing at the tree-stems so that the bark flew, so angry was she to\nhave lost her little one.\n\n\"Good-day, you biting mother bear,\" said the cat.\n\n\"Good-day, cat! Have you had anything to eat yet to-day?\" said the\nmother bear.\n\n\"O, only a little. My fast has hardly been broken,\" said the cat. \"I\nhave had no more than a dish of mush and a little potful of fat and the\nman in the house and the woman in the stable and the bell-cow at the\nmanger and the leaf-sweeper in the orchard and the weasel on the\nstone-pile and the squirrel in the hazel-bush and the fox, the\nsly-boots, and the hopping hare and the wild wolf and the little bear\nbrown-coat, and I'm thinking over whether I ought not to eat you as\nwell,\" said she, and seized the mother bear and ate her, too.\n\nWhen the cat had gone on a little further, she met the bear himself.\n\n\"Good-day, Bruin Good-fellow,\" said she.\n\n\"Good-day, cat! Have you had anything to eat yet to-day?\" asked the\nbear.\n\n\"O, only a little. My fast has hardly been broken,\" said the cat. \"I\nhave had no more than a dish of mush and a little potful of fat and the\nman in the house and the woman in the stable and the bell-cow at the\nmanger and the leaf-sweeper in the orchard and the weasel in the\nstone-pile and the squirrel in the hazel-bush and the fox, the\nsly-boots, and the hopping hare and the wild wolf and the little bear\nbrown-coat and the biting mother bear, and now I'm thinking over whether\nI ought not to eat you as well,\" said she, and she seized the bear and\nate him up, too.\n\nThen the cat went far and farther than far, until she came into the\nparish. And there she met a bridal party on the road.\n\n\"Good-day, bridal party on the road,\" said the cat.\n\n\"Good-day, cat! Have you had anything to eat yet to-day?\"\n\n\"O, only a little. My fast is hardly broken,\" said the cat. \"I have had\nno more than a dish of mush and a little potful of fat and the man in\nthe house and the woman in the stable and the bell-cow at the manger and\nthe leaf-sweeper in the orchard and the weasel on the stone-pile and the\nsquirrel in the hazel-bush and the fox, the sly-boots, and the hopping\nhare and the wild wolf and the little bear brown-coat and the biting\nmother bear and bruin good-fellow and now I'm thinking whether I ought\nnot to eat you up as well,\" said she, and she pounced on the whole\nbridal party, and ate it up, with the cook, the musicians, the horses\nand all.\n\nWhen she had gone a bit farther, she came to the church. And there she\nmet a funeral procession.\n\n\"Good-day, funeral procession at the church,\" said the cat.\n\n\"Good-day, cat! Have you had anything to eat yet to-day?\" said the\nfuneral procession.\n\n\"O, only a little. My fast has hardly been broken,\" said the cat. \"I\nhave had no more than a dish of mush and a little potful of fat and\nthe man in the house and the woman in the stable and the bell-cow at\nthe manger and the leaf-sweeper in the orchard and the weasel on the\nstone-pile and the squirrel in the hazel-bush and the fox, the\nsly-boots, and the hopping hare and the wild wolf and little bear\nbrown-coat and the biting mother bear and bruin good-fellow and the\nbridal party on the road, and now I'm thinking over whether I ought\nnot to eat you up as well,\" said she, and pounced on the funeral\nprocession, and ate up corpse and procession.\n\nWhen the cat had swallowed it all, she went straight on up to the sky,\nand when she had gone far and farther than far, she met the moon in a\ncloud.\n\n\"Good-day, moon in a cloud,\" said the cat.\n\n\"Good-day, cat! Have you had anything to eat yet to-day?\" said the moon.\n\n\"O, only a little. My fast has hardly been broken,\" said the cat. \"I\nhave had no more than a dish of mush and a little potful of fat and the\nman in the house and the woman in the stable and the bell-cow at the\nmanger and the leaf-sweeper in the orchard and the weasel on the\nstone-pile and the squirrel in the hazel-bush and the fox, the\nsly-boots, and the wild wolf and little bear brown-coat and the biting\nmother bear and bruin good-fellow and the bridal party on the road and\nthe funeral procession at the church, and now I'm thinking over whether\nI ought not to eat you up as well,\" said she, and pounced on the moon\nand ate him up, half and full.\n\nThen the cat went far and farther than far, and met the sun.\n\n\"Good morning, cat! Have you had anything to eat yet to-day?\" said the\nsun.\n\n\"O, only a little,\" said the cat. \"I have had no more than a dish of\nmush and a little potful of fat and the man in the house and the woman\nin the stable and the bell-cow at the manger and the leaf-sweeper in the\norchard and the weasel on the stone-pile and the squirrel in the\nhazel-bush and the fox, the sly-boots, and the hopping hare and the wild\nwolf and little bear brown-coat and the biting mother bear and bruin\ngood-fellow and the bridal party on the road and the funeral procession\nat the church and the moon in a cloud, and now I'm thinking over whether\nI ought not to eat you up as well,\" said she, and pounced on the sun in\nthe sky and ate him up.\n\nThen the cat went far and farther than far, until she came to a bridge,\nand there she met a large billy-goat.\n\n\"Good morning, billy-goat on the broad bridge,\" said the cat.\n\n\"Good morning, cat! Have you had anything to eat yet to-day?\" said the\ngoat.\n\n\"O, only a little. My fast has hardly been broken,\" said the cat. \"I had\nno more than a dish of mush and a little potful of fat and the man in\nthe house and the woman in the stable and the bell-cow at the manger and\nthe leaf-sweeper in the orchard and the weasel on the stone-pile and the\nsquirrel in the hazel-bush and the fox, the sly-boots, and the hopping\nhare and the wild wolf and little bear brown-coat and the biting mother\nbear and bruin good-fellow and the bridal party on the road and the\nfuneral procession at the church and the moon in a cloud and the sun in\nthe sky, and now I'm thinking over whether I ought not to eat you up as\nwell,\" said she.\n\n\"We'll fight about that first of all,\" said the goat, and butted the cat\nwith his horns so that she rolled off the bridge, and fell into the\nwater, and there she burst.\n\nThen they all crawled out, and each went to his own place, all whom the\ncat had eaten up, and were every one of them as lively as before, the\nman in the house and the woman in the stable and the bell-cow at the\nmanger and the leaf-sweeper in the orchard and the weasel on the\nstone-pile and the squirrel in the hazel-bush and the fox, the\nsly-boots, and the hopping hare and the wild wolf and little bear\nbrown-coat and the biting mother bear and bruin good-fellow and the\nbridal party on the road and the funeral procession at the church and\nthe moon in a cloud and the sun in the sky.\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    A real nursery fairy-tale is that of \"The Cat Who Could Eat So\n    Much\" (Asbjoernsen, N.F.E., No. 102, p. 222. From Gudbrandsdal). It\n    may be a survival from the time when it was believed that the sun\n    and moon in the sky were devoured by a monster when they were\n    obscured by a passing cloud.\n\n\n\n\nXXII\n\nEAST OF THE SUN AND WEST OF THE MOON\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a poor tenant farmer who had a number of\nchildren whom he could feed but poorly, and had to clothe in the\nscantiest way. They were all handsome; but the most beautiful, after\nall, was the youngest daughter, for she was beautiful beyond all\ntelling.\n\nNow it happened that one Thursday evening late in the fall there was a\nterrible storm raging outside. It was pitch dark, and it rained and\nstormed so that the house shook in every joint. The whole family sat\naround the hearth, and each was busy with some work or other. Suddenly\nthere were three loud knocks on the window-pane. The man went out to see\nwho was there, and when he stepped outside, there stood a great white\nbear.\n\n\"Good evening,\" said the white bear.\n\n\"Good evening,\" returned the man.\n\n\"If you'll give me your youngest daughter, I will make you just as rich\nas now you are poor,\" said the bear.\n\nThe man was not ill-pleased that he was to become so rich; yet he did\nthink that first he ought to speak to his daughter about it. So he went\nin again, and said that there was a white bear outside, who had promised\nto make him just as rich as he was poor now, if he could only have the\nyoungest daughter for his bride. But the girl said no, and would not\nhear of it. Then the man went back to the bear again, and they both\nagreed that the white bear should return again the following Thursday\nand get his answer. In the meantime, however, the parents worked upon\ntheir daughter, and talked at length about all the riches they would\ngain, and how well she herself would fare. So at last she agreed, washed\nand mended the few poor clothes she had, adorned herself as well as she\ncould, and made ready to travel. And what she was given to take along\nwith her is not worth mentioning, either.\n\nThe following Thursday the white bear came to fetch his bride. The girl\nseated herself on his back with her bundle, and then he trotted off.\nAfter they had gone a good way, the white bear asked: \"Are you afraid?\"\n\n\"No, not at all,\" she answered.\n\n\"Just keep a tight hold on my fur, and then you will be in no danger,\"\nsaid the bear. So she rode on the bear's back, far, far away, until at\nlast they came to a great rock. There the bear knocked, and at once\na door opened through which they entered a great castle, with many\nbrilliantly lighted rooms, where everything gleamed with gold and\nsilver. Then they came into a great hall, and there stood a table\ncompletely covered with the most splendid dishes. Here the white bear\ngave the maiden a silver bell, and said that if there were anything she\nwanted, she need only ring the bell, and she should have it at once.\nAnd after the maiden had eaten, and evening came on, she felt like lying\ndown and going to sleep. So she rang her bell; and at its very first\npeal she found herself transported to a room in which stood the most\nbeautiful bed one might wish to have, with silken cushions and curtains\nwith golden tassels; and all that was in the room was of gold and\nsilver. Yet when she had lain down and put out the light, she saw a man\ncome in and cast himself down in a corner. It was the white bear, who\nwas allowed to throw off his fur at night; yet the maiden never actually\nsaw him, for he never came until she had put out the light, and before\ndawn brightened he had disappeared again.\n\nFor a time all went well; but gradually the maiden grew sad and silent;\nfor she had not a soul to keep her company the live-long day, and she\nfelt very homesick for her parents and sisters. When the white bear\nasked her what troubled her, she told him she was always alone, and that\nshe wanted so very much to see her parents and sisters again, and felt\nvery sad because she could not do so. \"O that can be managed,\" said the\nwhite bear. \"But first you must promise me that you will never speak to\nyour mother alone; but only when others are present. Very likely she\nwill take you by the hand, and want to lead you into her room, so that\nshe can speak to you alone. But this you must not allow, otherwise you\nwill make us both unhappy.\"\n\nAnd then, one Sunday, the white bear actually came and told her that now\nshe might make the trip to her parents. So she seated herself on the\nbear's back, and the bear set out. After they had gone a very long\ndistance, they at length came to a fine, large, white house, before\nwhich her brothers and sisters were running about and playing, and all\nwas so rich and splendid that it was a real pleasure merely to look at\nit.\n\n\"This is where your parents live,\" said the white bear. \"Only do not\nforget what I told you, or you will make us both unhappy.\" Heaven forbid\nthat she should forget it, said the maiden; and when she had come to the\nhouse, she got down, and the bear turned back.\n\nWhen the daughter entered her parents' home, they were more than happy;\nthey told her that they could not thank her enough for what she had\ndone, and that now all of them were doing splendidly. Then they asked\nher how she herself fared. The maiden answered that all was well with\nher, also, and that she had all that heart could desire. I do not know\nexactly all the other things she told them; but I do not believe she\ntold them every last thing there was to tell. So in the afternoon, when\nthe family had eaten dinner, it happened as the white bear had foretold;\nthe mother wanted to talk to her daughter alone, in her room; but she\nthought of what the white bear had told her, and did not want to go with\nher mother, but said:\n\n\"All we have to say to each other can just as well be said here.\"\nYet--she herself did not know exactly how it happened--her mother\nfinally did persuade her, and then she had to tell just how things\nwere. So she informed her that as soon as she put out the light at\nnight, a man came and cast himself down in the corner of the room.\nShe had never yet seen him, for he always went away before the dawn\nbrightened. And this grieved her, for she did want to see him so very\nmuch, and she was alone through the day, and it was very dreary and\nlonely.\n\n\"Alas, perhaps he is a troll, after all,\" said the mother. \"But I\ncan give you some good advice as to how you can see him. Here is a\ncandle-end, which you must hide under your wimple. When the troll is\nsleeping, light the light and look at him. But be careful not to let\na drop of tallow fall on him.\"\n\nThe daughter took the candle-end and hid it in her wimple, and in the\nevening the white bear came to fetch her.\n\nAfter they had gone a way the white bear asked whether everything had\nnot happened just as he had said. Yes, such had been the case, and the\nmaiden could not deny it.\n\n\"If you have listened to your mother's advice, then you will make us\nboth unhappy, and all will be over between us,\" said the bear. \"O, no,\nshe had not done so,\" replied the maiden, indeed she had not.\n\nWhen they reached home, and the maiden had gone to bed, all went as\nusual: a man came in and cast himself down in a corner of the room. But\nin the night, when she heard him sleeping soundly, she stood up and\nlighted the candle. She threw the light on him, and saw the handsomest\nprince one might wish to see. And she liked him so exceedingly well\nthat she thought she would be unable to keep on living if she could not\nkiss him that very minute. She did so, but by mistake she let three hot\ndrops of tallow fall on him, and he awoke.\n\n\"Alas, what have you done!\" cried he. \"Now you have made both of us\nunhappy. If you had only held out until the end of the year, I would\nhave been delivered. I have a step-mother who has cast a spell on me, so\nthat by day I am a bear, and at night a human being. But now all is over\nbetween us, and I must return to my step-mother. She lives in a castle\nthat is east of the sun and west of the moon, where there is a princess\nwith a nose three yards long, whom I must now marry.\"\n\nThe maiden wept and wailed; but to no avail, for the prince said he must\njourney away. Then she asked him whether she might not go with him. No,\nsaid he, that could not be.\n\n\"But can you not at least tell me the road, so that I can search for\nyou. For surely that will be permitted me?\"\n\n\"Yes, that you may do,\" said he. \"But there is no road that leads there.\nThe castle lies east of the sun and west of the moon, and neither now\nnor at any other time will you find the road to it!\"\n\nWhen the maiden awoke the next morning, the prince as well as the castle\nhad disappeared. She lay in a green opening in the midst of a thick,\ndark wood, and beside her lay the bundle of poor belongings she had\nbrought from home. And when she had rubbed the sleep out of her eyes,\nand had cried her fill, she set out and wandered many, many days, until\nat last she came to a great hill. And before the hill sat an old woman\nwho was playing with a golden apple. The maiden asked the woman whether\nshe did not know which road led to the prince who lived in the castle\nthat was east of the sun and west of the moon, and who was to marry a\nprincess with a nose three yards long.\n\n\"How do you come to know him?\" asked the woman. \"Are you, perhaps, the\nmaiden he wanted to marry?\"\n\n\"Yes, I am that maiden,\" she replied.\n\n\"So you are that girl,\" said the woman. \"Well, my child, I am sorry to\nsay that all I know of him is that he lives in the castle that is east\nof the sun and west of the moon, and that you will probably never\nget there. But I will loan you my horse, on which you may ride to my\nneighbor, and perhaps she can tell you. And when you get there just give\nthe horse a blow back of his left ear, and order him to go home. And\nhere, take this golden apple along!\"\n\nThe maiden mounted the horse, and rode a long, long time. At length she\nagain came to a hill, before which sat an old woman with a golden reel.\nThe maiden asked whether she could not tell her the road which led to\nthe castle that lay east of the sun and west of the moon. This woman\nsaid just what the other had, no, she knew no more of the castle than\nthat it lay east of the sun and west of the moon. \"And,\" said she, \"you\nwill probably never get there. But I will loan you my horse to ride\nto the nearest neighbor; perhaps she can tell you. And when you have\nreached her just give the horse a blow back of his left ear, and order\nhim to go home again.\" And finally she gave the maiden the golden reel,\nfor, said the old woman, it might be useful to her.\n\nThe maiden then mounted the horse, and again rode a long, long time. At\nlength she once more came to a great hill, before which sat an old woman\nspinning at a golden spindle. Then the maiden once more asked after the\nprince, and the castle that lay east of the sun and west of the moon.\nAnd everything happened exactly as on the two previous occasions.\n\n\"Do you happen to be the maiden the prince wanted to marry?\" asked the\nold woman.\n\n\"Yes, I am that maiden,\" answered the maiden.\n\nBut this old woman knew no more about the road than the two others.\n\"Yes, the castle lies east of the sun and west of the moon, that I\nknow,\" said she. \"And you will probably never get there. But I will\nloan you my horse, and you may ride on it to the East Wind and ask him.\nPerhaps he is acquainted there, and can blow you thither. And when you\nreach him, just give my horse a blow back of the left ear, and then he\nwill return here of his own accord.\" Finally the old woman gave her her\ngolden spindle. \"Perhaps it may be useful to you,\" said she.\n\nThe maiden now rode for many days and weeks, and it took a long, long\ntime before she came to the East Wind. But at last she did find him, and\nthen she asked the East Wind whether he could show her the road that led\nto the prince who lived in the castle that was east of the sun and west\nof the moon.\n\nO, yes, he had heard tell of the prince, and of the castle as well, said\nthe East Wind, but he did not know the road that led to it, for he had\nnever blown so far. \"But if you wish, I will take you to my brother, the\nWest Wind, and perhaps he can tell you, for he is much stronger than I\nam. Just sit down on my back, and I will carry you to him.\"\n\nThe maiden did as he told her, and then they moved swiftly away. When\nthey came to the West Wind, the East Wind said that here he was bringing\nthe maiden whom the prince who lived in the castle that lay east of the\nsun and west of the moon had wanted to marry, that she was journeying\non her way to him, and looking for him everywhere, and that he had\naccompanied her in order to find out whether the West Wind knew where\nthis castle might be.\n\n\"No,\" said the West Wind to the maiden, \"I have never blown so far, but\nif you wish I will take you to the South Wind, who is much stronger than\nboth of us, and has traveled far and wide, and perhaps he can tell you.\nSeat yourself on my back, and I will carry you to him.\"\n\nThe maiden did so, and then they flew quickly off to the South Wind.\nWhen they found him, the West Wind asked whether the South Wind could\nshow them the road that led to the castle that lay east of the sun and\nwest of the moon; and that this was the maiden who was to have the\nprince.\n\n\"Well, well, so this is the girl?\" cried the South Wind. \"Yes, it is\ntrue that I have gone about a good deal during my life,\" said he, \"yet I\nhave never blown so far. But if you wish, I will take you to my brother,\nthe North Wind. He is the oldest and strongest of us all. If he does not\nknow where the castle lies, then no one in the whole world can tell you.\nSeat yourself on my back, and I will carry you to him.\"\n\nThe maiden seated herself on the back of the South Wind, and he flew\naway with a roar and a rush. The journey did not take long.\n\nWhen they had reached the dwelling of the North Wind, the latter was so\nwild and unmannerly that he blew a cold blast at them while they were\nstill a good way off. \"What do you want?\" cried he, as soon as he caught\nsight of them, so that a cold shiver ran down their backs.\n\n\"You should not greet us so rudely,\" said the South Wind. \"It is I, the\nSouth Wind. And this is the maiden who wanted to marry the prince who\nlives in the castle that lies east of the sun and west of the moon. She\nwishes to ask you whether you have ever been there, and if you can show\nher the road that leads to it; for she would like to find the prince\nagain.\"\n\n\"O, yes, I know very well where the castle lies,\" said the North Wind.\n\"I blew an aspen leaf there just once, and then I was so weary that I\ncould not blow at all for many a long day. But if you want to get there\nabove all things, and are not afraid of me, I will take you on my back,\nand see whether I can blow you there.\"\n\nThe maiden said that she must and would get to the castle, if it were by\nany means possible, and that she was not afraid, no matter how hard the\njourney might be. \"Very well, then you must stay here over night,\" said\nthe North Wind. \"For if we are to get there to-morrow, we must have the\nwhole day before us.\"\n\nEarly the next morning the North Wind awakened the maiden. Then he\nblew himself up, and made himself so large and thick that he was quite\nhorrible to look at, and thereupon they rushed along through the air as\nthough they meant to reach the end of the world at once. And everywhere\nbeneath them raged such a storm that forests were pulled out by the\nroots, and houses torn down, and as they rushed across the sea, ships\nfoundered by the hundreds. Further and further they went, so far that no\none could even imagine it, and still they were flying across the sea;\nbut gradually the North Wind grew weary, and became weaker and weaker.\nFinally he could hardly keep going, and sank lower and lower, and at\nlast he flew so low that the waves washed his ankles.\n\n\"Are you afraid?\" asked the North Wind.\n\n\"No, not at all,\" answered the maiden. By now they were not far distant\nfrom the land, and the North Wind had just enough strength left to be\nable to set down the maiden on the strand, beneath the windows of the\ncastle that lay east of the sun and west of the moon. And then he was so\nwearied and wretched that he had to rest many a long day before he could\nset out for home again.\n\nThe next morning the maiden seated herself beneath the windows of the\ncastle and played with the golden apple, and the first person who showed\nherself was the monster with the nose, whom the prince was to marry.\n\n\"What do you want for your golden apple?\" asked the princess with the\nnose, as she opened the window.\n\n\"I will not sell it at all, either for gold or for money,\" answered the\nmaiden.\n\n\"Well, what do you want for it, if you will not sell it either for gold\nor for money?\" asked the princess. \"Ask what you will!\"\n\n\"I only want to speak to-night to the prince who lives here, then I will\ngive you the apple,\" said the maiden who had come with the North Wind.\n\nThe princess replied that this could be arranged, and then she received\nthe golden apple. But when the maiden came into the prince's room in the\nevening, he was sleeping soundly. She called and shook him, wept and\nwailed; but she could not wake him, and in the morning, as soon as it\ndawned, the princess with the long nose came and drove her out.\n\nThat day the maiden again sat beneath the windows of the castle, and\nwound her golden reel. And all went as on the preceding day. The\nprincess asked what she wanted for the reel, and the maiden answered\nthat she would sell it neither for gold nor for money; but if she might\nspeak that night to the prince, then she would give the reel to the\nprincess. Yet when the maiden came to the prince, he was again fast\nasleep, and no matter how much she wept and wailed, and cried and shook,\nshe could not wake him. But as soon as day dawned, and it grew bright,\nthe princess with the long nose came and drove her out. And that day the\nmaiden again seated herself beneath the windows of the castle, and spun\nwith her golden spindle; and, of course, the princess with the long nose\nwanted to have that, too. She opened the window, and asked what she\nwanted for the golden spindle. The maiden replied, as she had twice\nbefore, that she would sell the spindle neither for gold nor money; but\nthat the princess could have it if she might speak to the prince again\nthat night. Yes, that she was welcome to do, said the princess, and took\nthe golden spindle. Now it happened that some Christians, who were\ncaptives in the castle, and quartered in a room beside that of the\nprince, had heard a woman weeping and wailing pitifully in the prince's\nroom for the past two nights. So they told the prince. And that evening\nwhen the princess came to him with his night-cap, the prince pretended\nto drink it; but instead poured it out behind his back, for he could\nwell imagine that she had put a sleeping-powder into the cup. Then, when\nthe maiden came in, the prince was awake, and she had to tell him just\nhow she had found the castle.\n\n\"You have come just in the nick of time,\" said he, \"for to-morrow I am\nto marry the princess; but I do not want the monster with the nose at\nall, and you are the only person who can save me. I will say that first\nI wish to see whether my bride is a capable housewife, and demand that\nshe wash the three drops of tallow from my shirt. She will naturally\nagree to this, for she does not know that you made the spots, for only\nChristian hands can wash them out again, but not the hands of this pack\nof trolls. Then I will say I will marry none other than the maiden who\ncan wash out the spots, and ask you to do so,\" said the prince. And then\nboth rejoiced and were happy beyond measure.\n\nBut on the following day, when the wedding was to take place, the prince\nsaid: \"First I would like to see what my bride can do!\" Yes, that was no\nmore than right, said his mother-in-law. \"I have a very handsome shirt,\"\ncontinued the prince, \"which I would like to wear at the wedding. But\nthere are three tallow-spots on it, and they must first be washed out.\nAnd I have made a vow to marry none other than the woman who can do\nthis. So if my bride cannot manage to do it, then she is worthless.\"\n\nWell, that would not be much of a task, said the women, and agreed to\nthe proposal. And the princess with the long nose at once began to wash.\nShe washed with all her might and main, and took the greatest pains, but\nthe longer she washed and rubbed, the larger grew the spots.\n\n\"O, you don't know how to wash!\" said her mother, the old troll-wife.\n\"Just give it to me!\" But no sooner had she taken the shirt in her hand,\nthan it began to look worse, and the more she washed and rubbed, the\nlarger and blacker grew the spots. Then the other troll-women had to\ncome and wash; but the longer they washed the shirt the uglier it grew,\nand finally it looked as though it had been hanging in the smokestack.\n\n\"Why, all of you are worthless!\" said the prince. \"Outside the window\nsits a beggar-girl. I'm sure she is a better washer-woman than all of\nyou put together. You, girl, come in here!\" he cried out of the window;\nand when the maiden came in he said: \"Do you think you can wash this\nshirt clean for me?\"\n\n\"I do not know,\" answered the maiden, \"but I will try.\" And no more had\nshe dipped the shirt in the water than it turned as white as newly\nfallen snow, yes, even whiter.\n\n\"Indeed, and you are the one I want!\" said the prince.\n\nThen the old troll-woman grew so angry that she burst in two, and the\nprincess with the long nose and the rest of the troll-pack probably\nburst in two as well, for I never heard anything more of them. The\nprince and his bride then freed all the Christians who had been kept\ncaptive in the castle, and packed up as much gold and silver as they\ncould possibly take with them, and went far away from the castle that\nlies East of the sun and West of the moon.\n\n    NOTE\n\n    \"East of the Sun and West of the Moon\" (Asbjoernsen and Moe,\n    N.F.E., p. 200, No. 41). The maiden's journeys with the winds are\n    here recounted in a colorful and imaginative manner, and the\n    motive of the washing out of the three drops of tallow is a\n    delicate and ingenious development of the idea of the fateful\n    candle.\n\n\n\n\nXXIII\n\nMURMUR GOOSE-EGG\n\n\nOnce upon a time there were five women who were standing in a field,\nmowing. Heaven had not given a single one of them a child, and each of\nthem wanted to have one. And suddenly they saw a goose-egg of quite\nunheard-of size, well-nigh as large as a man's head. \"I saw it first,\"\nsaid the one. \"I saw it at the same time that you did,\" insisted\nanother. \"But I want it, for I saw it first of all,\" maintained a third.\nAnd thus they went on, and fought so about the egg that they nearly came\nto blows. Finally they agreed that it should belong to all five of them,\nand that all of them should sit on it, as a goose would do, and hatch\nout the little gosling. The first remained sitting on the egg for eight\ndays, and hatched, and did not move or do a thing; and during this time\nthe rest had to feed her and themselves as well. One of them grew angry\nbecause of this and scolded.\n\n\"You did not crawl out of the egg either before you could cry peep!\"\nsaid the one who was sitting on the egg and hatching. \"Yet I almost\nbelieve that a human child is going to slip out of the egg, for\nsomething is murmuring inside it without ever stopping: 'Herring and\nmush, porridge and milk,'\" said she. \"And now you can sit on it for\neight days, while we bring you food.\"\n\nWhen the fifth day of the eight had passed, it was plain to her that\nthere was a child in the egg, which kept on calling: \"Herring and mush,\nporridge and milk,\" and so she punched a hole in the egg, and instead of\na gosling out came a child, and it was quite disgustingly homely, with\na big head and a small body, and no sooner had it crawled out than it\nbegan to cry: \"Herring and mush, porridge and milk!\" So they named the\nchild Murmur Goose-Egg.\n\nIn spite of the child's homeliness, the women at first took a great deal\nof pleasure in him; but before long he grew so greedy that he devoured\neverything they had. When they cooked a dish of mush or a potful of\nporridge that was to do for all six of them, the child swallowed it all\nby himself. So they did not want to keep him any longer. \"I have not had\na single full meal since the changling crawled out,\" said one of them;\nand when Murmur Goose-Egg heard that, and the rest agreed, he said that\nhe would gladly go his own gait, for \"if they had no need of him, then\nhe had no need of them,\" and with that he went off. Finally he came to a\nfarmstead that lay in a rocky section, and asked for work. Yes, they\nneeded a workman, and the master told him to gather up the stones in the\nfield. Then Murmur Goose-Egg gathered up the stones in the field; he\npicked up some that were so large that a number of horses could not have\ndragged them, and large and small, one and all, he put them in his\npocket. Before long he had finished his work, and wanted to know what he\nwas to do next.\n\n\"You have picked up the stones in the field?\" said his master. \"You\ncannot possibly have finished before you have really begun!\"\n\nBut Murmur Goose-Egg emptied his pockets, and threw the stones on a\npile. Then his master saw that he had finished his work, and that one\nwould have to handle such a strong fellow with kid gloves. So he told\nhim to come in and eat. That suited Murmur Goose-Egg, and he ate up\neverything that was to have supplied the master and his family, and the\nhelp, and then he was only half satisfied.\n\nHe was really a splendid worker; but a dangerous eater, like a\nbottomless cask, said the peasant. \"Such a serving-man could eat up a\npoor peasant, house and ground, before he noticed it,\" said he. He had\nno more work for him, and the best thing to do would be to go to the\nking's castle.\n\nSo Murmur Goose-Egg went to the king, and was at once given a place,\nand there was enough to eat and drink in the castle. He was to be the\nerrand-boy, and help the maids fetch wood and water, and do other odd\njobs. So he asked what he was to do first.\n\nFor the time being he could chop fire-wood, said they. So Murmur\nGoose-Egg began to chop fire-wood, and hewed to the line in such fashion\nthat the chips fairly flew. Before long he had chopped up all that there\nwas, kindling wood and building wood, beams and boards, and when he was\nthrough with it, he came and asked what he was to do now.\n\n\"You can finish chopping the fire-wood,\" said they.\n\n\"There is none left,\" said Murmur Goose-Egg.\n\nThat could not be possible, said the superintendent, and looked into\nthe wood-bin. Yes, indeed, Murmur Goose-Egg had chopped up everything,\nlarge and small, beams and boards. That was very bad, and therefore\nthe superintendent said that Murmur Goose-Egg should have nothing to\neat until he had chopped down just as much wood in the forest as he\nhad just chopped up for fire-wood.\n\nThen Murmur Goose-Egg went into the smithy, and had the smith make an\niron ax of five hundred-weights. With that he went into the forest and\nbegan to chop. He chopped down big pine and fir trees, as thick as\nmasts, and all that he found on the king's ground, as well as what he\nfound on that of his neighbors. But he cut off neither the branches nor\nthe tree-tops, so that all lay there as though felled by the storm. Then\nhe loaded a sizable stack on the sled, and put to the horses. But they\ncould not move the load from the spot, and when he took them by the\nheads, in order to pull them forward, he tore off their heads. So he\nunharnessed them, and left them lying in the field, and put himself to\nthe sled, and went off alone with the load. When he came to the king's\ncastle, there stood the king with the master carpenter in the entrance,\nand they were ready to give him a warm reception, because of the\ndestruction he had wrought in the forest. For the master carpenter had\nbeen there and seen the havoc he had made. But when Murmur Goose-Egg\ncame along with half the forest, the king grew frightened as well as\nangry, and he thought that if Murmur was so strong, it would be best to\nhandle him with care.\n\n\"Why, you are a splendid workman,\" said the king, \"but tell me, how much\ndo you really eat at once,\" he continued, \"for I am sure you are\nhungry?\"\n\nIf he were to have enough porridge, they would have to take twelve tons\nof meal to make it; but after he had eaten that, then he could wait a\nwhile, said Murmur Goose-Egg.\n\nIt took some time before so much porridge could be prepared, and in the\nmeantime Murmur was to carry wood into the kitchen. So he piled the\nwhole load of wood on a sled, but when he drove it through the door, he\ndid not go to work about it very gently. The house nearly broke from\nits joints, and he well-nigh tore down the entire castle. When at last\ndinner was ready, they sent him out into the field, to call the help. He\ncalled so loudly that hill and vale reechoed the sound. But still the\npeople did not come quick enough to suit him. So he picked a quarrel\nwith them, and killed twelve.\n\n\"You kill twelve of my people, and you eat for twelve times twelve of\nthem, but how many men's work can you do?\" asked the king.\n\n\"I do the work of twelve times twelve, too,\" said Murmur. When he had\neaten, he was to go to the barn and thresh. So he pulled the beam out of\nthe roof-tree, and made a flail out of it, and when the roof threatened\nto fall in, he took a pine-tree with all its boughs and branches, and\nset it up in place of the roof-beam. Then he threshed corn and hay and\nstraw, all together, and it seemed as though a cloud hung over the royal\ncastle.\n\nWhen Murmur Goose-Egg had nearly finished threshing, the enemy broke\ninto the land, and war began. Then the king told him to gather people\nabout him, and go to meet the foe, and do battle with him, for he\nthought the enemy would probably kill him.\n\nNo, said Murmur Goose-Egg, he did not want to have the king's people\nkilled, he would see that he dealt with the enemy himself.\n\nAll the better, thought the king, then I am sure to get rid of him. But\nhe would need a proper club, said Murmur.\n\nSo they sent to the smith, and he forged a club of two hundred-weights.\nThat would only do for a nut-cracker, said Murmur Goose-Egg. So he\nforged another that weighed six hundred-weights, and that would do to\nhammer shoes with, said Murmur Goose-Egg. But the smith told him that he\nand all his workmen together could not forge a larger one.\n\nThen Murmur Goose-Egg went into the smithy himself, and forged himself\na club of thirty hundred-weights, and it would have taken a hundred men\njust to turn it around on the anvil. This might do at a pinch, said\nMurmur. Then he wanted a knapsack with provisions. It was sewn together\nout of fifteen ox-skins, and stuffed full of provisions, and then Murmur\nwandered down the hill with the knapsack on his back, and the club over\nhis shoulder.\n\nWhen he came near enough for the soldiers to see him, they sent to ask\nwhether he had a mind to attack them.\n\n\"Just wait until I have eaten,\" said Murmur, and sat him down behind his\nknapsack to eat. But the enemy would not wait, and began to fire at him.\nAnd it fairly rained and hailed musket-balls all around Murmur.\n\n\"I don't care a fig for these blueberries,\" said Murmur Goose-Egg, and\nfeasted on quite at ease. Neither lead nor iron could wound him, and his\nknapsack stood before him, and caught the bullets like a wall.\n\nThen the enemy began to throw bombs at him, and shoot at him with\ncannon. He hardly moved when he was struck. \"O, that's of no account!\"\nsaid he.\n\nBut then a bomb flew into his wind-pipe. \"Faugh!\" said he, and spat it\nout again, and then came a chain-bullet and fell into his butter-plate,\nand another tore away the bit of bread from between his fingers.\n\nThen he grew angry, stood up, took his club, pounded the ground with it,\nand asked whether they wanted to take the food from his mouth with the\nblueberries they were blowing out at him from their clumsy blow-pipes.\nThen he struck a few more blows, so that the hills and valleys round\nabout trembled, and all the enemy flew up into the air like chaff, and\nthat was the end of the war.\n\nWhen Murmur came back and asked for more work, the king was at a loss,\nfor he had felt sure that now he was rid of him. So he knew of nothing\nbetter to do than to send him to the devil's place.\n\n\"Now you can go to the devil, and fetch the tribute from him,\" said the\nking. Murmur Goose-Egg went off with his knapsack on his back, and his\nclub over his shoulder. He had soon reached the right spot; but when he\ngot there the devil was away at a trial. There was no one home but his\ngrandmother, and she said she had never yet heard anything about a\ntribute, and that he was to come back some other time.\n\n\"Yes, indeed, come again to-morrow,\" said he. \"I know that old excuse!\"\nBut since he was there, he would stay there, for he had to take home the\ntribute, and he had plenty of time to wait. But when he had eaten all\nhis provisions, he grew weary, and again demanded the tribute from the\ngrandmother.\n\n\"You will get nothing from me, and that's as flat as the old fir-tree\noutside is fast,\" said the devil's grandmother. The fir-tree stood in\nfront of the gate to the devil's place, and was so large that fifteen\nmen could hardly girdle it with their arms. But Murmur climbed up into\nits top and bent and shook it to and fro as though it were a willow\nwand, and then asked the devil's grandmother once more whether she would\nnow pay him the tribute.\n\n  [Illustration: \"THERE MURMUR JUMPED FROM ONE MOUNTAIN-TOP TO ANOTHER.\"\n                                                     --_Page 189_]\n\nSo she did not dare to refuse any longer, and brought out as much money\nas he could possibly carry in his knapsack. Then he set out for home\nwith the tribute, and now no sooner had he gone than the devil came\nhome, and when he learned that Murmur had taken along a big bag of\nmoney, he first beat his grandmother, and then hurried after Murmur.\nAnd he soon caught up to him, for he ran over sticks and stones, and\nsometimes flew in between; while Murmur had to stick to the highway with\nhis heavy knapsack. But with the devil at his heels, he began to run as\nfast as he could, and stretched out the club behind him, to keep the\ndevil from coming to close quarters. And thus they ran along, one behind\nthe other; while Murmur held the shaft and the devil the end of the\nclub, until they reached a deep valley. There Murmur jumped from one\nmountain-top to another, and the devil followed him so hotly that he ran\ninto the club, fell down into the valley and broke his foot--and there\nhe lay.\n\n\"There's your tribute!\" said Murmur Goose-Egg, when he had reached the\nroyal castle, and he flung down the knapsack full of money before the\nking, so that the whole castle tottered. The king thanked him kindly,\nand promised him a good reward, and a good character, if he wanted it;\nbut Murmur only wanted more work to do.\n\n\"What shall I do now?\" he asked. The king reflected for a while, and\nthen he said Murmur should travel to the hill-troll, who had robbed him\nof the sword of his ancestors. He lived in a castle by the sea, where\nno one ventured to go.\n\nMurmur was given a few cart-loads of provisions in his big knapsack, and\nonce more set out. Long he wandered, though, over field and wood, over\nhills and deep valleys, till he came to a great mountain where the troll\nlived who had robbed the king of the sword.\n\nBut the troll was not out in the open, and the mountain was closed, so\nMurmur could not get it. So he joined a party of stone-breakers, who\nwere working at a mountainside, and worked along with them. They had\nnever had such a helper, for Murmur hewed away at the rocks till they\nburst, and stone bowlders as large as houses came rolling down. But when\nhe was about to rest and eat up the first cart-load of his provisions,\nit had already been eaten up. \"I have a good appetite myself,\" said\nMurmur, \"but whoever got hold of it has an even better one, for he has\neaten up the bones as well!\"\n\nThus it went the first day, and the second was no better. On the third\nday he went to work again, and took along the third cart-load, lay down\nbehind it, and pretended to be sleeping.\n\nThen a troll with seven heads came out of the hill, began to smack his\nlips, and eat of his provisions.\n\n\"Now the table is set, so now I am going to eat,\" said he.\n\n\"First we'll see about that,\" said Murmur, and hewed away at the troll\nso that the heads flew from his body.\n\nThen he went into the hill out of which the troll had come, and inside\nstood a horse eating out of a barrel of glowing ashes, while behind him\nstood a barrel filled with oats.\n\n\"Why don't you eat out of the barrel of oats?\" asked Murmur Goose-Egg.\n\n\"Because I cannot turn around,\" said the horse.\n\n\"I will turn you around,\" said Murmur Goose-Egg.\n\n\"Tear my head off instead,\" pleaded the horse.\n\nMurmur did so, and then the horse turned into a fine-looking man. He\nsaid that he had been enchanted, and turned into a horse by the troll.\nThen he helped Murmur look for the sword, which the troll had hidden\nunder the bed. But in the bed lay the troll's grandmother, and she was\nsnoring.\n\nThey went home by water, and just as they sailed off the old troll\ngrandmother came after them; but she could not get at them, hence she\ncommenced to drink, so that the water went down and grew lower. But at\nlast she could not drink up the whole sea, and so she burst.\n\nWhen they came ashore, Murmur sent to the king, and had him told to have\nthe sword fetched; but though the king sent four horses, they could not\nmove it from the spot. He sent eight, he sent twelve, but the sword\nremained where it was, and could not be moved from the spot by any\nmeans. Then Murmur Goose-Egg took it up, and carried it alone.\n\nThe king could not believe his eyes when he saw Murmur once more; but\nhe was very friendly and promised him gold and green forests. But when\nMurmur asked for more work, he told him to travel to his troll's castle,\nwhere no one dared go, and to remain there until he had built a bridge\nacross the sound, so that people could cross. If he could do that, he\nwould reward him well, yes, he would even give him his daughter, said\nthe king. He would attend to it, said Murmur.\n\nYet no human being had ever returned thence alive; all who had gotten\nso far, lay on the ground dead, and crushed to a jelly, and the king\nthought, when sending him there, that he would never see him again.\n\nBut Murmur set out. He took with him his knapsack full of provisions,\nand a properly turned and twisted block of pine-wood, as well as an ax,\na wedge and some wooden chips.\n\nWhen he reached the sound, the river was full of drifting ice, and it\nroared like a waterfall. But he planted his legs firmly on the ground,\nand waded along until he got across. When he had warmed himself and\nsatisfied his hunger, he wanted to sleep; but a tumult and rumbling\nstarted, as though the whole castle were to be turned upside down. The\ngate flew wide open, and Murmur saw nothing but a pair of yawning jaws\nthat reached from the threshold to the top of the door.\n\n\"Let's see who you may be? Perhaps you are an old friend of mine,\" said\nMurmur. And sure enough, it was Master Devil. Then they played cards\ntogether. The devil would gladly have won back some of the tribute\nMurmur had forced from his grandmother for the king. Yet, no matter how\nhe played, Murmur always won; for he made a cross on the cards. And\nafter he had won all the devil had with him, the latter had to give him\nsome of the gold and silver that was in the castle.\n\nIn the midst of their game the fire went out, so that they could no\nlonger tell the cards apart.\n\n\"Now we must split wood,\" said Murmur. He hewed into the block of\npine-wood with his ax, and drove in the wedge, but the tree-stump was\ntough, and would not split at once, though Murmur gave himself all\nmanner of pains.\n\n\"You are supposed to be strong,\" he said to the devil. \"Spit on your\nhands, slap in your claws here, and pull the block apart, so that I can\nsee what you can do!\"\n\nThe devil obediently thrust both hands into the split, and tore and\nclawed with all his might; but suddenly Murmur Goose-Egg knocked out the\nwedge, and there the devil was caught in a vice, while Murmur belabored\nhis back with the ax. The devil wailed, and begged Murmur to let him go;\nbut Murmur would hear nothing of it until he had promised never to come\nback and make a nuisance of himself again. Besides that, he had to\npromise to build a bridge over the sound, on which one could go back and\nforth at all seasons of the year. And the bridge was to be completed\nimmediately after the breaking up of the ice-drift.\n\n\"Alas!\" said the devil, but there was nothing for it but to promise if\nhe wished to go free. Yet he made one condition, that he was to have the\nfirst soul that crossed the bridge as sound-toll.\n\nHe could have it, said Murmur. Then he let the devil out, and he ran\nstraight home. But Murmur lay down and slept until far into the\nfollowing day.\n\nThen the king came to see whether Murmur Goose-Egg were lying crushed\non the ground, or had merely been badly beaten. He had to wade through\npiles of money before he could reach the bed. The money was stacked up\nhigh along the walls in heaps and in bags, and Murmur lay in the bed and\nsnored.\n\n\"May heaven help me and my daughter!\" cried the king, when he saw that\nMurmur Goose-Egg was in the best of health. Yes, and no one could deny\nthat everything had been well and thoroughly done, said the king; but\nthere could be no talk of marriage as long as the bridge had not been\nbuilt.\n\nThen one day the bridge was finished; and on it stood the devil, ready\nto collect the toll promised him.\n\nMurmur Goose-Egg wanted the king to be the first to try the bridge with\nhim; but the king had no mind to do so, therefore Murmur himself mounted\na horse, and swung up the fat dairy-maid from the castle before him on\nthe saddle-bow--she looked almost like a gigantic block of wood--and\ndashed across the bridge with her so that the planks fairly thundered.\n\n\"Where is my sound-toll? Where is the soul?\" cried the devil. \"Sitting\nin this block of wood! If you want her, you must spit on your hands and\ncatch hold of her,\" said Murmur Goose-Egg. \"No, thank you! If she does\nnot catch hold of me, then I'll certainly not catch hold of her,\" said\nthe devil. \"You caught me in a vice once, but you can't fool me a second\ntime,\" said he, and flew straight home to his grandmother, and since\nthen nothing more has been heard or seen of him.\n\nBut Murmur Goose-Egg hurried back to the castle and asked for the reward\nthe king had promised him. And when the king hesitated and began to make\nall sorts of excuses, in order not to have to keep his promise, Murmur\nsaid it would be best to have a substantial knapsackful of provisions\nmade ready, since now he, Murmur, was going to take his reward himself.\nThis the king did, and when the knapsack was ready, Murmur took the king\nalong with him in front of the castle, and gave him a proper shove, so\nthat he flew high up into the air. And he threw the knapsack up after\nhim, so that he would not be left altogether without provisions; and if\nhe has not come down yet, then he, together with the knapsack, is\nfloating between heaven and earth to this very day.\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    \"Murmur Goose-Egg\" (Asbjoernsen, N.F.E., p. 172, No. 96. From\n    Gudbrandsdal, title and introduction after a variant from the\n    vicinity of Christiania) is predestined to great deeds from birth,\n    like his Swedish counterpart Knoes. This giant fellow, who fears\n    neither death nor the devil, if he only has enough to eat, is of\n    old a favorite figure in Norse fairy-tale. It is by means of\n    similar giant fooleries that Thor, the god of the Norwegian\n    peasant, was made ridiculous, and shown up as a braggart; and in\n    the Song of Harbord he is mocked because of his fondness for\n    herring and mush, the very dish Murmur demands before he crawls\n    from the egg. Thor is also credited with a trip to the nether\n    world, just as Murmur is sent to the devil in hell, to collect a\n    tribute.\n\n\n\n\nXXIV\n\nTHE TROLL-WIFE\n\n\nOnce upon a time, long, long years ago, there lived a well-to-do old\ncouple on a homestead up in Hadeland. They had a son, who was a dragoon,\na big, handsome fellow. They had a pasture in the hills, and the hut was\nnot like most of the herdsmen's huts; but was well and solidly built,\nand even had a chimney, a roof and a window. And there they spent the\nsummer; but when they came back home in the fall, the wood-cutters and\nhuntsmen and fishermen, and whoever else had business in the woods at\nthat time, noticed that the mountain folk had carried on its tricks with\ntheir herd. And among the mountain folk was a maiden who was so\nbeautiful that her like had never been seen.\n\nThe son had often heard tell of her, and one fall, when his parents had\nalready come home from the mountain pasture, he put on his full uniform,\nsaddled his service horse, thrust his pistols in the holsters, and thus\nrode up into the hills. When he rode toward the pasture, such a fire\nburned in the herdsman's hut that it lit up every road, and then he knew\nthat the mountain folk were inside. So he tied his horse to a pine-tree,\ntook a pistol from its holster, crept up to the hut, and peeped through\nthe window. And there sat an old man and a woman who were quite crooked\nand shriveled up with age, and so unspeakably ugly that he had never\nseen anything like it in his life; but with them was a maiden, and she\nwas so surpassingly beautiful that he fell in love with her at once, and\nfelt that he could not live without her. All had cow's tails, and the\nlovely maiden, too. And he could see that they had only just arrived,\nfor everything was in disorder. The maiden was busy washing the ugly old\nman, and the woman was building a fire under the great cheese-kettle on\nthe hearth.\n\nAt that moment the dragoon flung open the door, and shot off his pistol\nright above the maiden's head, so that she tottered and fell to the\nground. And then she grew every bit as ugly as she had been beautiful\nbefore, and she had a nose as long as a pistol-case.\n\n\"Now you may take her, for now she belongs to you!\" said the old man.\nBut the dragoon stood as though rooted to the spot; stood where he\nstood, and could not take a single step, either forward or backward.\nThen the old man began to wash the girl; and she looked a little better;\nher nose was only half its original size, and her ugly cow's tail was\ntied back; but she was not as handsome, and any one who said so would\nnot have been telling the truth.\n\n\"Now she is yours, my proud dragoon! Take her up before you on your\nhorse, and ride into town and marry her. And you need only set the\ntable for us in the little room in the bake-house; for we do not want\nto be with the other wedding-guests,\" said the old monster, her father,\n\"but when the dishes make the round, you can stop in where we are.\"\n\nHe did not dare do anything else, and took her up before him on his\nhorse, and made ready to marry her. But before she went to church, the\nbride begged one of the bridesmaids to stand close behind her, so that\nno one could see her tail fall off when the priest joined their hands.\n\nSo the wedding was celebrated, and when the dishes made the round, the\nbridegroom went out into the room where the table had been set for the\nold folk from the mountain. And at that time there was nothing to be\nseen there; but after the wedding-guests had gone, there was so much\ngold and silver, and such a pile of money lying there, as he had never\nseen together before.\n\nFor a long time all went well. Whenever guests came, his wife laid the\ntable for the old folk in the bake-house, and on each occasion so much\nmoney was left lying there, that before long they did not know what to\ndo with it all. But ugly she was, and ugly she remained, and he was\nheartily weary of her. So it was bound to happen that he sometimes flew\ninto a rage, and threatened her with cuffs and blows. Once he wanted to\ngo to town, and since it was fall, and the ground already frozen, the\nhorse had first to be shod. So he went into the smithy--for he himself\nwas a notable farrier--but, no matter what lie did, the horse-shoe was\neither too large or too small, and would not fit at all. He had no other\nhorse at home, and he toiled away until noon and on into the afternoon.\n\"Will you never make an end of your shoeing?\" asked his wife. \"You are\nnot a very good husband; but you are a far worse farrier. I see there is\nnothing left for me but to go into the smithy myself and shoe the horse.\nThis shoe is too large, you should have made it smaller, and that one is\ntoo small, you should have made it larger.\"\n\nShe went into the smithy, and the first thing she did was to take the\nhorse-shoe in both hands and bend it straight.\n\n\"There, look at it,\" said she, \"that is how you must do it.\" And with\nthat she bent it together again as though it were made of lead. \"Now\nhold up the horse's leg,\" said she, and the horse-shoe fitted to a hair,\nso that the best farrier could not have bettered it.\n\n\"You have a great deal of strength in your fingers,\" said her husband,\nand he looked at her.\n\n\"Do you think so?\" was her reply. \"What would have happened to me had\nyou been as strong? But I love you far too dearly ever to use my\nstrength against you,\" said she.\n\nAnd from that day on he was the best of husbands.\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    \"The Troll-Wife\" (Asbjoernsen, _Huldreeventyr_, I, p. 77. From\n    Hadeland, told by a farrier who knew a number of fairy-tales)\n    deals with a marriage between a Christian and a Troll. Strange to\n    say, the woman is kind and gentle beyond all reproach, while her\n    husband grows less kind and more brutal, and does not improve\n    until his wife shows that troll strength and skill are still at\n    her command.\n\n\n\n\nXXV\n\nTHE KING'S HARES\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a man who lived in the little back room. He\nhad given up his estate to the heir; but in addition he had three sons,\nwho were named Peter, Paul and Esben, who was the youngest. All three\nhung around at home and would not work, for they had it too easy, and\nthey thought themselves too good for anything like work, and nothing was\ngood enough for them. Finally Peter once heard that the king wanted a\nshepherd for his hares, and he told his father he would apply for the\nposition, as it would just suit him, seeing that he wished to serve no\none lower in rank than the king. His father, it is true, was of the\nopinion that there might be other work that would suit him better, for\nwhoever was to herd hares would have to be quick and spry, and not a\nsleepy-head, and when the hares took to their heels in all directions,\nit was a dance of another kind than when one skipped about a room. But\nit was of no use. Peter insisted, and would have his own way, took his\nknapsack, and shambled down hill. After he had gone a while, he saw an\nold woman who had got her nose wedged in a tree-stump while chopping\nwood, and when Peter saw her jerking and pulling away, trying to get\nout, he burst into loud laughter.\n\n\"Don't stand there and laugh in such a stupid way,\" said the woman,\n\"but come and help a poor, feeble old woman. I wanted to split up some\nfire-wood, and caught my nose here, and here I have been standing for\nmore than a hundred years, pulling and jerking, without a bit of bread\nto chew in all that time,\" said she.\n\nThen Peter had to laugh all the harder. He found it all very amusing,\nand said that if she had already been standing there a hundred years,\nthen she could probably hold out for another hundred years or more.\n\nWhen he came to court they at once took him on as a herdsman. The place\nwas not bad, there was good food, and good wages, and the chance of\nwinning the princess besides; yet if no more than a single one of the\nking's hares were to be lost, they would cut three red strips from his\nback, and throw him into the snake-pit.\n\nAs long as Peter was on the common or in the enclosure, he kept his\nhares together nicely, but later, when they reached the forest, they ran\naway from him across the hills. Peter ran after them with tremendous\nleaps, as long as he thought he could catch even a single hare, but when\nthe very last one had vanished, his breath was gone, and he saw no more\nof them. Toward noon he went home, taking his time about it, and when he\nreached the enclosure, he looked around for them on all sides, but no\nhares came. And then, when he came to the castle, there stood the king\nwith the knife in his hand. He cut three red strips from his back, and\ncast him into the snake-pit.\n\nAfter a while Paul decided to go to the castle and herd the king's\nhares. His father told him what he had told Peter, and more besides; but\nhe insisted on going, and would not listen, and he fared neither better\nnor worse than Peter had. The old woman stood and pulled and jerked at\nher nose in the tree-trunk, and he laughed, found it very amusing, and\nlet her stand there and torment herself. He was at once taken into\nservice, but the hares all ran away across the hills, though he pursued\nthem, and worked away like a shepherd dog in the sun, and when he came\nback to the castle in the evening minus his hares, there stood the king\nwith the knife in his hand, cut three broad strips from his back, rubbed\nin pepper and salt, and flung him into the snake-pit.\n\nThen, after some time had passed, the youngest decided to set out to\nherd the king's hares, and told his father of his intention. He thought\nthat would be just the work for him, to loaf about in forest and field,\nlook for strawberry patches, herd a flock of hares, and lie down and\nsleep in the sun between times. His father thought that there was other\nwork that would suit him better, and that even if he fared no worse than\nhis brothers, it was quite certain that he would fare no better. Whoever\nherded the king's hares must not drag along as though he had lead in\nhis soles, or like a fly on a limerod; and that when the hares took to\ntheir heels, it was a horse of another color from catching flees with\ngloved hands; whoever wanted to escape with a whole back, would have to\nbe more than quick and nimble, and swifter than a bird. But there was\nnothing he could do. Esben merely kept on saying that he wanted to go to\ncourt and serve the king, for he would not take service with any lesser\nmaster, said he; and he would see to the hares, they could not be much\nworse than a herd of goats or of calves. And with that he took his\nknapsack and strolled comfortably down the hill.\n\nAfter he had wandered a while, and began to feel a proper hunger, he\ncame to the old woman who was wedged by the nose in the tree-trunk and\nwho was pulling and jerking away, in order to get loose.\n\n\"Good day, mother,\" said Esben, \"and why are you worrying yourself so\nwith your nose, you poor thing?\" \"No one has called me mother for the\nlast hundred years,\" said the old woman, \"but come and help me out, and\ngive me a bite to eat; for I have not had a bit to eat in all that time.\nAnd I will do something for your sake as well,\" said she.\n\nYes, no doubt she would need something to eat and drink badly, said\nEsben.\n\nThen he hewed the tree-trunk apart, so that she got her nose out of the\ncleft, sat down to eat, and shared with her. The old woman had a good\nappetite, and she received a good half of his provisions.\n\nWhen they were through she gave Esben a whistle which had the power that\nif he blew into one end, whatever he wished scattered was scattered to\nall the winds, and when he blew into the other, all came together again.\nAnd if the whistle passed from his possession, it would return as soon\nas he wished it back.\n\n\"That is a wonderful whistle!\" thought Esben.\n\nWhen he came to the castle, they at once took him on as a shepherd; the\nplace was not bad, he was to have food and wages, and should he manage\nto herd the king's hares without losing one of them, he might possibly\nwin the princess; but if he lost so much as a single hare, and no matter\nhow small it might be, then they would cut three red strips from his\nback, and the king was so sure of his case that he went right off to\nwhet his knife. It would be a simple matter to herd the hares, thought\nEsben; for when they went off they were as obedient as a herd of sheep,\nand so long as they were on the common, and in the enclosure, they\neven marched in rank and file. But when they reached the forest, and\nnoon-time came, and the sun burned down on hill and dale, they all took\nto their heels and ran away across the hills.\n\n\"Hallo, there! So you want to run away!\" called Esben, and blew into one\nend of his whistle, and then they scattered the more quickly to all the\nends of the earth. But when he had reached an old charcoal-pit, he blew\ninto the other end of his whistle, and before he knew it the hares were\nback again, and standing in rank and file so he could review them, just\nlike a regiment of soldiers on the drill-ground.\n\n  [Illustration: \"THE KING RECKONED AND ADDED THEM UP, AND COUNTED WITH\n  HIS FINGERS.\"\n                                                     --_Page 207_]\n\n\"That is a splendid whistle!\" thought Esben; lay down on a sunny\nhillock, and fell asleep. The hares were left to their own devices, and\nplayed until evening; then he once more whistled them together, and took\nthem along to the castle like a herd of sheep.\n\nThe king and queen and the princess, too, stood in the hall-way, and\nwondered what sort of a fellow this was, who could herd hares without\nlosing a single one. The king reckoned and added them up, and counted\nwith his fingers, and then added them up again; but not even the\nteeny-weeniest hare was missing. \"He is quite a chap, he is,\" said the\nprincess.\n\nThe following day he again went to the forest, and herded his hares; but\nwhile he lay in all comfort beside a strawberry patch, they sent out the\nchamber-maid from the castle to him, and she was to find out how he\nmanaged to herd the king's hares.\n\nHe showed her his whistle, and blew into one end, and all the hares\ndarted away across the hills in all directions, and then he blew into\nthe other, and they came trotting up from all sides, and once more stood\nin rank and file. \"That is a wonderful whistle,\" said the chamber-maid.\nShe would gladly give him a hundred dollars, if he cared to sell it.\n\n\"Yes, it is a splendid whistle,\" said Esben, \"and I will not sell it for\nmoney. But if you give me a hundred dollars, and a kiss with every\ndollar to boot, then I might let you have it.\"\n\nYes, indeed, that would suit her right down to the ground; she would\ngladly give him two kisses with every dollar, and feel grateful,\nbesides.\n\nSo she got the whistle, but when she reached the castle, the whistle\ndisappeared all of a sudden. Esben had wished it back again, and toward\nevening he came along, driving his hares like a herd of sheep. The king\nreckoned and counted and added, but all to no purpose, for not the least\nlittle hare was missing.\n\nWhen Esben was herding his hares the third day, they sent the princess\nto him to get away his pipe from him. She was tickled to death, and\nfinally offered him two hundred dollars if he would let her have the\nwhistle, and would also tell her what she had to do in order to fetch it\nsafely home with her.\n\n\"Yes, it is a very valuable whistle,\" said Esben, \"and I will not sell\nit,\" but at last, as a favor to her, he said he would let her have it if\nshe gave him two hundred dollars, and a kiss for every dollar to boot.\nBut if she wanted to keep it, why, she must take good care of it, for\nthat was her affair.\n\n\"That is a very high price for a hare-whistle,\" said the princess, and\nshe really shrank from kissing him, \"but since we are here in the middle\nof the forest, where no one can see or hear us, I'll let it pass, for I\npositively must have the whistle,\" said she. And when Esben had pocketed\nthe price agreed upon, she received the whistle, and held it tightly\nclutched in her hand all the way home; yet when she reached the castle,\nand wanted to show it, it disappeared out of her hands. On the following\nday the queen herself set out, and she felt quite sure that she would\nsucceed in coaxing the whistle away from him.\n\nShe was stingier, and only offered fifty dollars; but she had to raise\nher bid until she reached three hundred. Esben said it was a magnificent\nwhistle, and that the price was a beggarly one; but seeing that she\nwas the queen, he would let it pass. She was to pay him three hundred\ndollars, and for every dollar she was to give him a buss to boot, then\nshe should have the whistle. And he was paid in full as agreed, since as\nregards the busses the queen was not so stingy.\n\nWhen she had the whistle in her hands, she tied it fast, and hid it\nwell, but she fared not a whit better than either of the others; when\nshe wanted to show the whistle it was gone, and in the evening Esben\ncame home, driving his hares as though they were a well-trained flock of\nsheep.\n\n\"You are stupid women!\" said the king. \"I suppose I will have to go to\nhim myself if we really are to obtain this trumpery whistle. There seems\nto be nothing else left to do!\" And the following day, when Esben was\nonce more herding his hares, the king followed him, and found him at the\nsame place where the women had bargained with him.\n\nThey soon became good friends, and Esben showed him the whistle, and\nblew into one end and the other, and the king thought the whistle very\npretty, and finally insisted on buying it, even though it cost him a\nthousand dollars.\n\n\"Yes, it is a magnificent whistle,\" said Esben, \"and I would not sell it\nfor money. But do you see that white mare over yonder?\" said he, and\npointed into the forest.\n\n\"Yes, she belongs to me, that is my Snow Witch!\" cried the king, for he\nknew her very well.\n\n\"Well, if you will give me a thousand dollars, and kiss the white mare\nthat is grazing on the moor by the big pine, to boot, then you can have\nmy whistle!\" said Esben.\n\n\"Is that the only price at which you will sell?\" asked the king.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Esben.\n\n\"But at least may I not put a silken handkerchief between?\" asked the\nking.\n\nThis was conceded him, and thus he obtained the whistle. He put it in\nthe purse in his pocket, and carefully buttoned up the pocket. Yet when\nhe reached the castle, and wanted to take it out, he was in the same\ncase as the women, for he no longer had the whistle. And in the evening\nEsben came home with his herd of hares, and not the least little hare\nwas missing.\n\nThe king was angry, and furious because he had made a fool of them all,\nand had swindled the king's self out of the whistle into the bargain,\nand now he wanted to do away with Esben. The queen was of the same\nopinion, and said it was best to behead such a knave when he was caught\nin the act.\n\nEsben thought this neither fair nor just; for he had only done what he\nhad been asked to do, and had defended himself as best he knew how.\n\nBut the king said that this made no difference to him; yet if Esben\ncould manage to fill the big brewing-cauldron till it ran over, he would\nspare his life.\n\nThe job would be neither long nor hard, said Esben, he thought he could\nwarrant that, and he began to tell about the old woman with her nose\nin the tree-trunk, and in between he said, \"I must make up plenty of\nstories, to fill the cauldron,\"--and then he told of the whistle, and\nthe chamber-maid who came to him and wanted to buy the whistle for a\nhundred dollars, and about all the kisses that she had had to give him\nto boot, up on the hillock by the forest; and then he told about the\nprincess, how she had come and kissed him so sweetly for the whistle's\nsake, because no one could see or hear it in the forest--\"I must make up\nplenty of stories, in order to fill the cauldron,\" said Esben. Then he\ntold of the queen, and of how stingy she had been with her money, and\nhow liberal with her busses--\"for I must make up plenty of stories in\norder to fill the cauldron,\" said Esben.\n\n\"But I think it must be full now!\" said the queen.\n\n\"O, not a sign of it!\" said the king.\n\nThen Esben began to tell how the king had come to him, and about the\nwhite mare who was grazing on the moor, \"and since he insisted on having\nthe whistle he had to--he had to--well, with all due respect, I have to\nmake up plenty of stories in order to fill the cauldron,\" said Esben.\n\n\"Stop, stop! It is full, fellow!\" cried the king. \"Can't you see that it\nis running over?\"\n\nThe king and the queen were of the opinion that it would be best for\nEsben to receive the princess and half the kingdom; there did not seem\nanything else to do.\n\n\"Yes, it was a magnificent whistle!\" said Esben.\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    \"The King's Hares\" (Asbjoernsen, N.F.E., p. 190, No. 98. After\n    different variants from Roeken, Aadal, Bier and Asker, Riugerike\n    and Hardanger) is the story of the cauldron full of lies, which\n    has probably found special favor in Norway because of its outcome,\n    not very flattering for the king and queen. It is noticeable that\n    in Northern fairy-tales those kings who will not give up their\n    daughters to the heroes at any cost are handled with considerable\n    disrespect.\n\n\n\n\nXXVI\n\nHELGE-HAL IN THE BLUE HILL\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a sinister old couple, who lived out under\nthe open sky. All that they had were three sons, an old cook-pot, an old\nfrying-pan, and an old cat. Then the man died, and after a time his wife\ndied, too. Now their estate was to be divided. So the oldest took the\nold cook-pot, and the second took the old frying-pan, and Ebe Ashpeter\nhad no choice. He had to take the old cat, and they did not ask him\nwhether he wanted to or not.\n\n\"Brother Peter can scrape out the cook-pot after he has loaned it out,\"\nsaid Ebe. \"Brother Paul gets a crust of bread when he lends out his\nfrying-pan; but what am I to do with this wretched cat?\" And he was\nangry and envious. Yet he scratched the cat and stroked it, and this\npleased the cat so that she began to purr, and raised her tail in the\nair.\n\n\"Wait, wait, I'll help you yet,\" said the cat, \"wait, wait, I'll help\nyou yet!\"\n\nThere was nothing to bite or break in the hut. Brother Peter and Brother\nPaul had each of them gone off in a different direction. So Ebe set out,\ntoo, with the cat in the lead, himself following; but after a time he\nturned and went home again, to see whether the floor had been swept, and\nthe cat tripped on alone. After she had gone her way, tipp, tapp, tipp,\ntapp, for a while, she came to a great rock, and there she met an\nenormous herd of reindeer. The cat crept softly around the herd, and\nthen with one leap sprang between the horns of the finest buck.\n\n\"If you do not go where I want you to, I'll scratch out your eyes, and\ndrive you over rock and precipice!\" said she. So the buck did not dare\ndo anything save what the cat wished, and off they went over stick and\nstone, from cliff to cliff, close by Ebe, who was just polishing the\ndoor-sill of his house, and with one bound right into the castle.\n\n\"I am to deliver a kind greeting from Ebe, and ask whether my lord king\nmight care to have this buck reindeer to drive,\" said the cat. Yes, he\ncould make good use of such a young, handsome animal, some time, when he\nhad occasion to drive out to visit a neighboring king.\n\n\"This Ebe must be a proud and powerful lord,\" said the king, \"if he can\nmake me such presents.\"\n\n\"Yes, he is the greatest lord in all your land and kingdom,\" said the\ncat, but no matter how many questions the king asked, he learned nothing\nmore.\n\n\"Tell him that I am much obliged,\" said the king, and he sent him a\nwhole cart-load of handsome presents. But Ebe looked past them and paid\nno attention to them.\n\n\"Brother Peter can scrape out his cook-pot when he has loaned it out,\nand Brother Paul gets a crust of bread when he lends out his frying-pan;\nbut what am I to do with this wretched cat!\" said he, and felt angry\nand envious; but still he scratched the cat, and stroked her, and this\npleased her so much that she began to purr, and raised her tail in the\nair.\n\n\"Wait, wait, I will help you yet,\" said the cat, \"wait, wait, I will\nhelp you yet!\"\n\nThe next day they both set out again, the cat in the lead, and Ebe\nfollowing. After a while he turned back to see whether the folding-table\nat home had been scoured. And the cat tripped on alone. After she had\ngone her way, tipp, tapp, tipp, tapp, for a while, she came to a dense\nforest slope. There she found an enormous herd of elk. The cat crept\nsoftly up, and suddenly there she sat between the horns of one of the\nstateliest of the bull elks.\n\n\"If you do not go where I want you to, I will scratch out your eyes,\nand drive you over rock and precipice!\" said the cat. The elk did not\ndare do anything save what the cat wished, and so off they went, like\nlightning, over stick and stone, from cliff to cliff, right past Ebe,\nwho stood before the house scouring the shutters, and with one bound\ninto the king's castle.\n\n\"I am to deliver a kind greeting from Ebe, and ask whether my lord king\nmight not care to have this bull elk for courier service.\" It was quite\nclear that should the king want a swift messenger, some time, he could\nnot find a swifter in all his kingdom.\n\n\"This Ebe must be a most distinguished lord, since he finds such\npresents for me,\" said the king.\n\n\"Yes, indeed, one might call him a distinguished lord,\" said the cat,\n\"his wealth is without end or limit.\" But no matter how many other\nquestions the king asked, he received no more explicit information.\n\n\"Tell him that I am much obliged, and to do me the honor to call when\nhe is passing here some time,\" said the king, and sent him a robe as\nhandsome as the one he himself was wearing, and three cartloads of\nhandsome presents. But Ebe did not even want to put on the royal robe,\nand hardly looked at the other presents.\n\n\"Brother Peter can scrape out his cook-pot when he has loaned it out,\nBrother Paul gets a crust of bread when he lends out his frying-pan; but\nof what use is this wretched cat to me!\" he said, in spite of all. Yet\nhe stroked the cat, and pressed her to his cheek, and scratched her, and\nthis pleased the cat so very much that she purred more than on the other\noccasions, and stuck her tail up into the air as straight as a rod.\n\n\"Wait, wait, I will help you yet,\" said the cat, \"wait, wait, I will\nhelp you yet!\"\n\nOn the third day they set out again, the cat in the lead, and Ebe\nfollowing. After a time it occurred to him to go back and let the mice\nout of the house, so that they would not be altogether starved in the\nold hut; and the cat tripped on alone. After she had gone her way, tipp,\ntapp, tipp, tapp, for a while, she came to a dense pine forest, and\nthere she met a father bear, a mother bear and a baby bear. The cat\ncrept softly up to them, and all at once she was hanging by her claws to\nthe father bear's head.\n\n\"If you do not go where I want you to, I will scratch out your eyes, and\ndrive you over rock and precipice!\" said the cat, and spit and arched\nher back. Then the father bear did not dare do anything save what the\ncat wished, and now they dashed past Ebe, who had just carried all the\nyoung mice over the threshold, like a storm, over stick and stone, from\ncliff to cliff, so that the earth trembled and shook. The king was just\nstanding in the hallway, and was not a little surprised to see such\nguests arriving.\n\n\"I am to deliver a kind greeting from Ebe, and ask whether my lord king\nmight not care to have this bear for a general or royal counselor,\" said\nthe cat. The king was more than pleased to secure such a creature for\nhis nearest adviser, who could doubt it.\n\n\"Tell him that I am much obliged, but that I do not at all know how to\nshow my appreciation,\" said the king.\n\n\"Well, he would like to marry your youngest daughter!\" said the cat.\n\n\"Yes, but that is asking a good deal,\" said the king. \"He really ought\nto pay me a visit.\"\n\n\"Ebe does not enter such plain houses,\" said the cat.\n\n\"Has he a handsomer castle than this?\" asked the king.\n\n\"Handsomer? Why, your castle seems like the shabbiest hut in comparison\nwith his!\" was the cat's reply.\n\n\"You dare come into my presence, and tell me that there is some one\nliving in my kingdom who is more handsomely housed than I, the king!\"\nshouted the king, beside himself with rage. He came near wringing the\ncat's neck.\n\n\"You might wait until you see it,\" said the cat. And the king said yes,\nhe would wait. \"But if you have told me a falsehood, you shall die, and\nthough you had seven lives,\" said he.\n\nIn the morning the king and the whole court set out to travel to Ebe\nAshpeter's castle. The cat was in the little hut, and called for Ebe,\nthinking it would be best if both of them got underway an hour earlier.\nAfter they had gone a while, they met some folk who were herding sheep;\nand the sheep were bleating and grazing over the whole plain. They\nwere as large as full-grown calves, and their wool was so long that it\ndragged along the ground after them. \"To whom do the sheep belong?\"\nasked the cat. \"To Helge-Hal in the Blue Hill,\" said the shepherds.\n\n\"The court is coming past in a moment,\" said the cat, \"and if then you\ndo not at once say that they belong to Ebe, I will scratch out your\neyes, and drive you over rock and precipice!\" said the cat, and spat\nand arched her back, and showed her teeth. Then the shepherds were so\nfrightened that they at once promised to do as the cat had ordered.\n\n\"But to whom do all these sheep belong?\" asked the king, when he came by\nwith the court somewhat later. \"They are every bit as handsome as my\nown!\"\n\n\"They belong to Ebe,\" said the shepherds.\n\nThen the cat and Ebe wandered on for a while, and came to a dense forest\nslope. There they met folk who were tending goats. The goats skipped and\nleaped about everywhere, and gave such fine milk that better could no\nwhere be found.\n\n\"To whom do the goats belong?\" asked the cat.\n\n\"To Helge-Hal in the Blue Hill,\" said the herdsmen. Then the cat again\nwent through her ferocious preparations, and the herdsmen were so\nfrightened that they did not dare oppose her wishes.\n\n\"Now who in the world can be the owner of so many goats?\" asked the\nking. \"I myself have none finer!\"\n\n\"They belong to Ebe,\" said the herdsmen.\n\nThen they wandered on for a while, and met folk who were tending cows:\nwherever one looked the cows lowed and glistened, and each yielded milk\nenough for three. When the cat heard that these herdsmen were also in\nthe service of Helge-Hal of the Blue Hill, she spat once more, and\narched her back, and then all the herdsmen were ready that moment to\nsay what she wished.\n\n\"But in heaven's name, to whom do all these beautiful cattle belong?\"\nasked the king. \"There are no such cattle in my whole kingdom!\"\n\n\"They belong to Lord Ebe,\" said the herdsmen.\n\nThen they wandered on for a long, long time. At last they came to a\ngreat plain, and there they met horse-herders; and horses whinnied and\ndisported themselves over the whole plain, and their coats were so fine\nthat they glistened as though gilded, and each horse was worth a whole\ncastle.\n\n\"For whom do you herd these horses?\" asked the cat.\n\n\"For Helge-Hal in the Blue Hill,\" the herders replied.\n\n\"Well, the court will come by here in a little while,\" said the cat,\n\"and if you do not say you are herding them for Ebe, I will scratch out\nyour eyes, and drive you over rock and precipice!\" said the cat, and she\nspat, and showed her teeth and claws, and grew so angry her hair stood\nup all along her back. Then the herders were terribly frightened, and\ndid not dare do anything but what the cat wished.\n\n\"But in the name of heaven, to whom do all these horses belong?\" asked\nthe king, when he came by with his court.\n\n\"They belong to Ebe,\" said the herders.\n\n\"I never have seen or heard anything like it in all my life!\" cried the\nking. \"This Ebe is such a distinguished lord that it is past my\nunderstanding!\"\n\nThe cat and Ebe had long since gone on their way, and had wandered far\nand ever farther over hill and rock. In the evening, at dusk, they came\nto a royal castle that glittered and shimmered as though it were of the\npurest silver and gold--which it was. Yet it was gloomy and depressing,\nand lonely and barren there, and nowhere was there a sign of life.\n\nHere they went in, and the cat stood with a cake of rye meal just below\nthe door. Suddenly there came a thundering and a thumping so that the\nearth trembled, and the whole castle shook, and that was the troll who\nwas coming home. And suddenly all was quiet again, and before they knew\nit, Helge-Hal in the Blue Hill had thrust his three great horrible heads\nin at the door.\n\n\"Let me in! Let me in!\" he cried, so that every one shivered. \"Wait,\nwait a bit while I tell you what the rye had to go through before he was\nmade into this cake,\" said the cat, and spoke to him in the sweetest\nway. \"First he was threshed, and then he was beaten, and then he was\npounded, and then he was thumped, and then he was thrown from one wall\nto another, and then he was sifted through a sieve....\"\n\n\"Let me in! Let me in, you chatterbox!\" cried the troll, and he was so\nfurious that the sparks flew from him.\n\n\"Wait a bit, wait a bit. I will tell you what the rye had to go through\nbefore he was made into this cake!\" said the cat, and he spoke to him\nstill more sweetly.\n\n\"First he was threshed, and then he was beaten, and then he was pounded,\nand then he was thumped, and then he was thrown from one wall to\nanother, and then he was sifted through a sieve, and shaken here and\nthere, and then he was put on the drying-board, and then in the stove,\nuntil it grew so hot that he puffed up more and more, and wanted to get\nout, but could not,\" said the cat, and took her time.\n\n\"Get out of the way and let me in!\" cried the troll once more, and\nnearly burst with rage; but the cat acted as though she did not hear\nhim, and talked down the blue from the sky, and went up and down the\nwhile, and whenever the troll tried to come in, she met him beneath the\ndoor with the cake.\n\n\"O, but do take a look at the shining maiden coming up there behind\nthe mountain!\" said the cat, after she had talked at length about the\nsufferings of the rye. And Helge-Hal in the Blue Hill turned his three\nheads around in order to see the beautiful maiden, too. Then the sun\nrose, and the troll stiffened into stone. Now Ebe obtained all the\nriches that the troll had possessed, the sheep and goats, the cows and\nall the spirited horses, and the handsome golden castle, and some big\nbags of money besides.\n\n\"Here come the king and all his court,\" said the cat. \"Just go out\nbefore the door and receive them!\" So Ebe got up and went to meet them.\n\n\"You are indeed a very distinguished lord!\" said the king to him. \"So\nfar as I am concerned you may have the youngest princess!\"\n\nThen they started brewing and baking on a large scale in the greatest\nhaste, and everything was made ready for the wedding. On the first day\nof the feast the cat came and begged the bridegroom to cut off her\nhead. This he did not at all want to do; but the cat spat and showed her\nteeth, and then Ebe did not dare disobey her. But when the head fell to\nthe ground, the cat turned into a most handsome prince. He married the\nsecond princess, and as the wedding procession was on its way to church,\nthey met a third prince who was looking for a wife, and he took the\noldest princess. Then they all three celebrated their weddings so that\nthe story went the rounds in twelve kingdoms.\n\n      \"Spin, span, spun,\n      Now our tale is done!\"\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    The tale of \"Helge-Hal in the Blue Hill\" (Bergh, No. 2, p. 19) is\n    delightfully told. There is the timid, abidingly helpless nit-wit,\n    and the wise and energetic cat, who is quite at home in the\n    ancient wisdom that enables her to render trolls harmless. Their\n    attention must be held through the night by means of some pretext,\n    a meaningless tale, for instance, until the first ray of the\n    rising sun falls on them, when they turn to stone, or have to\n    burst. In the Edda this is what happens to the dwarf Alvis, so\n    full of sinister lore.\n\n\n\n\nXXVII\n\nTHE LORD OF THE HILL AND JOHN BLESSOM\n\n\nJohn Blessom once upon a time had gone down to Copenhagen to carry on a\nsuit at law, for in those days one could not get justice in the land of\nNorroway; and if a man wanted his rights, there was nothing left for him\nto do but to travel to Copenhagen. This is what Blessom had done, and\nwhat his son did after him, for he, too, carried on a law-suit. Now it\nchanced that on Christmas Eve John had had speech with the gentleman in\nauthority, and had attended to his business, and was going along the\nstreet in a low-spirited manner, for he was homesick. And as he went\nalong, a man from Vaage, in a white blouse, with a knapsack, and buttons\nas big as silver dollars, passed him. He was a large, heavily-built man.\nIt seemed to Blessom that he must know him; but he was walking very\nfast.\n\n\"You are walking very fast,\" said John.\n\n\"Yes, but then I'm in a hurry,\" answered the man. \"I have to get back to\nVaage this very evening.\"\n\n\"I only wish that I could get there!\" sighed John.\n\n\"You can stand on the runner of my sledge,\" said the man, \"for I have a\nhorse that covers a mile in twelve steps.\"\n\nSo they set out, and Blessom had all that he could do to hold fast to\nthe runner of the sledge; for they went through weather and wind, and he\ncould see neither heaven nor earth.\n\nOnce they stopped and rested. He could not tell exactly where it was,\nbut when they began to hurry on again, he thought that he spied a skull\non a pole. After they had gone on a while, John Blessom began to freeze.\n\n\"Alas, I forgot one of my gloves where we stopped, and now my hand is\nfreezing!\" said he.\n\n\"Well, Blessom, you'll have to make the best of it,\" said the man. \"We\nare not far from Vaage now. When we stopped to rest we had covered half\nthe way.\"\n\nWhen they crossed the Finnebridge, the man stopped and set John down.\n\n\"Now you are not far from home,\" said he, \"but you must promise me that\nyou will not look around, when you hear a roaring and notice a flare of\nlight.\"\n\nJohn promised, and thanked him for the quick journey. The man drove off\non his way, and John crossed the hill to his home. As he went he heard\na roaring in the Jutulsberg, and the path before him suddenly grew so\nbright that one could have picked a needle from the ground. And he\nforgot what he had promised, and turned his head to see what was\nhappening. There stood the giant gate of the Jutulsberg wide open, and\nout of it streamed a light and radiance as of thousands of candles. In\nthe midst of it all stood the giant, and he was the man with whom he\nhad driven. But from that time forward John's head was twisted, and so\nit remained as long as he lived.\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    \"The Lord of the Hill and John Blessom\" (Asbjoernsen,\n    _Huldreeventyr_ I, p. 189. From Gudbrandsdal, told by an old\n    peasant of the valley) is a tale of one of those kindly beings\n    among the helpful underground folk, who nevertheless severely\n    punish any disobedience to their command.\n\n\n\n\nXXVIII\n\nTHE YOUNG FELLOW AND THE DEVIL\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a young fellow, who was going along cracking\nnuts. He found a wormy one, and at the selfsame moment he met the devil.\n\"Is it true,\" said the young fellow, \"that the devil can make himself\nas small as he likes, and can slip through the eye of a needle, as the\npeople say?\" \"Yes,\" answered the devil. \"Well, I should certainly like\nto see you crawl into that nut!\" said the young fellow. The devil did\nso. But when he had crawled through the hole, the young fellow stopped\nit up with a bit of wood. \"Now I've got you!\" said he, and put the nut\nin his pocket. After he had gone a while, he came to a smithy, and went\nin and asked the smith to break the nut for him. \"Why, that is a mere\ntrifle!\" said the smith, took his smallest hammer, laid the nut on\nthe anvil, and struck it; but the nut would not break. Then he took a\nsomewhat larger hammer; but that was not heavy enough either. Then\nhe took a still larger one, but could do nothing with it at all, and\nthereupon he grew angry, and took his heaviest hammer. \"I'll break\nyou yet!\" said he, and struck it with all his might. And then the nut\ncracked, so that half the smithy roof was carried away, and there was a\ncrash as though the whole hut were falling in. \"I believe the devil was\nin that nut!\" said the smith. \"And so he was!\" answered the young\nfellow.\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    This getting the better of the devil, as in \"The Young Fellow and\n    the Devil\" (Asbjoernsen and Moe, N.F.E., p. 133, No. 30), already\n    occurs in the fairy-tale from the \"Thousand and One Nights,\" where\n    a spirit slips, not into a nut, but into a bottle, in order to\n    show what he can do. Ibsen, too, allows Per Gynt to dwell on this\n    fairy-tale.\n\n\n\n\nXXIX\n\nFARTHER SOUTH THAN SOUTH, AND FARTHER NORTH THAN NORTH, AND IN THE GREAT\nHILL OF GOLD\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a peasant who had a wheat-field, which was\ntrampled down every Saturday night. Now the peasant had three sons, and\nhe told each one of them to spend a Saturday night in the field, and to\nwatch and see who trampled it down. The oldest was to make the first\ntrial. So he lay down by the upper ridge of the field, and after he had\nlain there a while he fell asleep. The following morning the whole field\nhad been trampled down, and the young fellow was unable to tell how it\nhad happened.\n\nNow the second son was to make the attempt; but he had the same\nexperience. After he had lain a while he fell asleep, and in the morning\nhe was unable to tell how the field had come to be trampled down.\n\nNow it was the turn of John by the Ashes. He did not lie down by the\nupper ridge of the field; but lower down, and stayed awake. After he had\nlain there a while, three doves came flying along. They settled in the\nfield, and that very moment shook off all their feathers, and turned\ninto the most beautiful maidens one might wish to see. They danced with\neach other over the whole field; and while they did so, the young fellow\ngathered up all their feathers. Toward morning they wanted to put on\ntheir feathers again, but could not find them anywhere. Then they were\nfrightened, and wept and searched and searched and wept. Finally, they\ndiscovered the young fellow, and begged him to give them back their\nfeathers. \"But why do you dance in our wheat-field?\" said the young\nfellow. \"Alas, it is not our fault,\" said the maidens. \"The troll who\nhas enchanted us sends us here every Saturday night to trample the\nfield. But now give us our feathers, for morning is near.\" And they\nbegged for them in the sweetest way. \"I do not know about that,\" said\nthe young fellow, \"you have trampled down the field so very badly;\nperhaps--if I might choose and have one of you?\" \"That would please us,\"\nreturned the maidens, \"but it would not be possible; for three trolls\nguard us, one with three, one with six and one with nine heads, and they\nkill all who come to the mountain.\" But the young fellow said that one\nof them pleased him so very much that he would make the attempt, in\nspite of what they had told him. So he chose the middle one, for she\nseemed the most beautiful to him, and she gave him a ring and put it on\nhis finger. And then the maidens at once put on their garments of dove\nfeathers, and flew back across forest and hill.\n\nWhen the young fellow returned home, he told what he had seen. \"And now\nI must set out and try my luck,\" said he. \"I do not know whether I will\nreturn, but I must make the venture.\" \"O John, John by the Ashes!\" said\nhis brothers, and laughed at him. \"Well, it makes no difference, even\nthough I am worthless,\" said John by the Ashes. \"I must try my luck.\" So\nthe young fellow set out to wander to the place where the maidens lived.\nThey had told him it was farther south than south, and farther north\nthan north, in the great hill of gold. After he had gone a while, he met\ntwo poor lads who were quarreling with each other about a pair of old\nshoes and a bamboo cane, which their mother had left them. The young\nfellow said it was not worth quarreling about such things, and that\nhe had better shoes and better canes at home. \"You cannot say that,\"\nreturned the brothers, \"for whoever has these shoes on can cover a\nthousand miles in a single step, and whatever is touched with this cane\nmust die at once.\" The young fellow went on to ask whether they would\nsell the things. They said that they ought to get a great deal for them.\n\"But what you say of them is not true at all,\" the young fellow replied.\n\"Yes, indeed, it is absolutely true,\" they answered. \"Just let me see\nwhether the boots will fit me,\" said the young fellow. So they let him\ntry them on. But no sooner did the young fellow have the boots on his\nfeet, and the cane in his hand, than he took a step and off he was, a\nthousand miles away.\n\nA little later he met two young fellows who were quarreling over an old\nfiddle, which had been left them. \"Now is that worth while doing?\" said\nthe young fellow. \"I have a brand-new fiddle at home.\" \"But I doubt if\nit has such a tone as ours,\" said one of the youths, \"for if some one\nis dead, and you play this fiddle, he will come to life again.\" \"That\nreally is a good deal,\" said the young fellow. \"May I draw the bow\nacross the strings?\" They told him he might, but no sooner did he have\nthe fiddle in his hand than he took a step, and suddenly he was a\nthousand miles away.\n\nA little later he met an old man, and him he asked whether he knew where\nthe place might be that was \"farther south than south, and farther north\nthan north, and in the great hill of gold.\" The man said yes, he knew\nwell enough, but it would not do the young fellow much good to get\nthere, for the troll who lived there killed every one. \"O, I have to\nmake the attempt, whether it lead to life or death,\" said the young\nfellow, for he was fonder than fond of the middle one of the three\nmaidens. So he learned the way from the old man, and finally reached the\nhill. There he had to pass through three rooms, before he came into the\nhall to the maidens. And there were locks on every door, and at each\nstood a watchman. \"Where do you want to go?\" asked the first watchman.\n\"In to the maidens,\" said the young fellow. \"In you may go, but you'll\nnot get out again,\" said the watchman, \"for now the troll will be along\nbefore long.\" But the young fellow said that, at any rate, he would make\nthe attempt, and went on. So he came to the second watchman. \"Where do\nyou want to go?\" asked the latter. \"In to the maidens,\" said the\nyoung fellow. \"In you may go, but you'll not get out again,\" said the\nwatchman, \"for the troll will be here any minute.\" \"And yet I will make\nthe attempt,\" said the young fellow, and the watchman let him pass. So\nhe came to the third watchman. \"Where do you want to go?\" the latter\nasked him. \"In to the maidens,\" said the young fellow. \"In you may go,\nbut you'll never get out again, for the troll will be here in three\nshakes of a lamb's tail,\" said the watchman. \"And yet I will make the\nattempt,\" said the young fellow, and this watchman also let him pass.\nThen he reached the inner chamber where the maidens sat. They were\nso beautiful and distinguished, and the room was so full of gold and\nsilver, that the young fellow never could have imagined anything like\nit. Then he showed the ring, and asked whether the maidens recognized\nit. Indeed they did recognize him and the ring. \"But you poor\nunfortunate, this is the end of us and of you!\" said they. \"The troll\nwith three heads will be along before long, and you had better hide\nbehind the door!\" \"O, I'm so frightened, I'm so frightened!\" wailed the\nmaiden whom the young fellow had chosen. \"Just you stop crying,\" said\nthe young fellow. \"I think fortune will favor us!\"\n\nThe troll came that very moment and thrust his three heads into the\ndoor. \"Uff, it smells like Christian blood here!\" said he. The young\nfellow struck at the heads with his bamboo cane, and the troll was dead\nin a minute. So they carried out the body and hid it. A little later the\ntroll with six heads came home. \"Uff, it smells like Christian blood\nhere!\" said he. \"Some one must have crept into the place! But what has\nbecome of the other troll?\" said he, when he did not see the troll with\nthree heads. \"He has not yet come home,\" said the maidens. \"He must have\ncome home,\" said the troll. \"Perhaps he has gone to look for the fellow\nwho crept in here.\" At that moment the young fellow struck all six of\nhis heads with his bamboo cane, and the troll at once fell dead to the\nground. Then they dragged out the corpse.\n\nA while later came the troll with nine heads. \"Uff, it smells like\nChristian blood here!\" said he, and grew very angry. \"But where are the\ntwo others?\" said he. \"They have not yet come home,\" said the maidens.\n\"Indeed they have come,\" said the troll, \"but they are probably looking\nfor the Christian who has crept in here!\" At that moment, the young\nfellow sprang from behind the door, and struck one head after another\nwith his bamboo cane. But he had no more than reached the eighth than it\nseemed to him that the troll was getting the upper hand, and he ran out\nof the door. The troll was so furious that he came near bursting. He\nseized all the maidens and killed them, and then out he flew after the\nyoung fellow. The latter had hidden behind a big rock, and when the\ntroll came darting up, showering sparks in his rage, he struck at his\nninth head, too, and the troll fell on his back, dead. Then the young\nfellow ran in again, took his fiddle and played, and all the maidens\ncame back to life. Now they wanted to go home; but did not know how to\nfind the long road back. \"I know what we must do,\" said the young\nfellow, \"I will take you on my back, one by one, and then the journey\nwill not be long for us.\" And this he did. He carried home all the gold\nand silver he found in the hill, and then celebrated his wedding with\nthe middle one of the maidens, and if they have not died, they are\nliving this very day.\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    \"Farther South Than South, and Farther North Than North, and in\n    the Great Hill of Gold\" (Janson, No. 12, p. 39) begins with the\n    story of three maidens in feather dress who have to keep their\n    human form if robbed of their feathers. The legend of Wieland and\n    Smith introduces three similar maidens in swan's plumage, one of\n    whom he wins for himself; yet when she finds her swan dress again\n    after long years, yearning overpowers her, and she flies away. Our\n    fairy-tale is kindlier, and allows the young fellow to gain his\n    dove princess after strenuous adventures.\n\n\n\n\nXXX\n\nLUCKY ANDREW\n\n\nThere was once a rich peasant who had two sons, named John Nicholas and\nLucky Andrew. The oldest was one of those fellows of whom one never can\nquite make head or tail. He was a most unpleasant customer to deal with,\nand he was more grasping and greedy than the folk of the Northland are,\nas a rule, though it is only too rare to find them unblessed with\nthese attractive qualities. The other, Lucky Andrew, was wild and high\nspirited, but always good natured, and no matter how badly off he might\nbe, he would always insist that he had been born under a lucky star.\nWhen the eagle, in order to defend his nest, belabored his head and face\ntill the blood ran, he would still maintain that he was born under a\nlucky star, if only he managed to bring home a single eaglet. Did his\nboat capsize, which occasionally happened, and did they discover him\nhanging to it, quite overcome with the water, cold and exertion, and\nasked him how he felt, he would reply: \"O, quite well. I have been\nsaved. I surely am in luck!\"\n\nWhen their father died, both of them were of age, and not long after\nthey both had to go out to the sand-banks to fetch some fishing-nets,\nwhich had been left there since the summer fishing. It was late in\nthe fall, after the time when most fishermen are busy with the summer\nfishing. Andrew had his gun along, which he carried with him wherever he\nwent. John Nicholas did not say much while they were underway; but he\nthought all the harder. They were not ready to set out for home again\nuntil near evening.\n\n\"Hark, Lucky Andrew, do you know there will be a storm to-night?\" said\nJohn Nicholas, and looked out across the sea. \"I think it would be best\nif we stayed here until morning!\"\n\n\"There'll be no storm,\" said Andrew. \"The Seven Sisters have not put on\ntheir fog-caps, so you may be quite at rest.\"\n\nBut his brother complained of being weary, and at length they decided to\nremain there for the night. When Andrew awoke he found himself alone;\nand he saw neither brother nor boat, until he came to the highest point\nof the island. Then he discovered him far out, darting for land like a\nsea-gull. Andrew did not understand the whole affair. There were still\nprovisions there, as well as a dish of curd, his gun and various other\nthings. So Andrew wasted but little time in thought. \"He will come back\nthis evening,\" said he. \"Only a fool loses heart so long as he can eat.\"\nBut in the evening there was no brother to be seen, and Andrew waited\nday by day, and week by week; until at last, he realized that his\nbrother had marooned him on this barren island in order to be able to\nkeep their inheritance for himself, and not have to divide it. And\nsuch was the case, for when John Nicholas came in sight of land on his\nhomeward trip, he had capsized the boat, and declared that Lucky Andrew\nhad been drowned.\n\nBut the latter did not lose heart. He gathered drift-wood along the\nstrand, shot sea-birds, and looked for mussels and roots. He built\nhimself a raft of drift-timber, and fished with a pole that had also\nbeen left behind. One day, while he was at work, he happened to notice a\ndepression or hollow in the sand, as though made by the keel of a large\nNorthland schooner, and he could plainly trace the braidings of the\nhawsers from the strand up to the top of the island. Then he thought to\nhimself that he was in no danger, for he saw there was truth in the\nreport he had often heard, that the meer-folk made the island their\nabode, and did much business with their ships.\n\n\"God be praised for good company! That was just what I needed. Yes, it\nis true, as I have always said, that I was born under a lucky star,\"\nthought Andrew to himself; perhaps he said so too, for occasionally he\nreally had to talk a little. So he lived through the fall. Once he saw a\nboat, and hung a rag on a pole and waved with it; but that very moment\nthe sail dropped, and the crew took to the oars and rowed away at top\nspeed, for they thought the meer-trolls were making signs and waving.\n\nOn Christmas Eve Andrew heard fiddles and music far out at sea; and when\nhe came out, he saw a glow of light that came from a great Northland\nschooner, which was gliding toward the land--yet such a ship he had\nnever yet seen. It has a main-sail of uncommon size, which looked to him\nto be of silk, and the most delicate tackling, as thin as though woven\nof steel wire, and everything else was in proportion, as fine and\nhandsome as any Northlander might wish to have. The whole schooner was\nfilled with little people dressed in blue, but the girl who stood at the\nhelm was adorned like a bride, and looked as splendid as a queen, for\nshe wore a crown and costly garments. Yet any one could see that she was\na human being, for she was tall, and handsomer than the meer-folk. In\nfact, Lucky Andrew thought that she was handsomer than any girl he ever\nhad seen. The schooner headed for the land where Andrew stood; but with\nhis usual presence of mind, he hurried to the fisherman's hut, pulled\ndown his gun from the wall, and crept up into the large loft and hid\nhimself, so that he could see all that passed in the hut. He soon\nnoticed that the whole room was alive with people. They filled it\ncompletely and more, and still more of them came in. Then the walls\nbegan to crack, and the little hut spread out at all corners, and grew\nso splendid and magnificent that the wealthiest merchant could not have\nhad its equal; it was almost like being in a royal castle. Tables were\ncovered with the most exquisite silver and gold. When they had eaten\nthey began to dance. Under cover of the noise, Andrew crept to the\nlook-out at the side of the roof, and climbed down. Then he ran to the\nschooner, threw his flint-stone over it, and in order to make certain,\ncut a cross into it with his sharp-cutting knife. When he came back\nagain, the dance was in full swing. The tables were dancing and the\nbenches and chairs--everything else in the room was dancing, too. The\nonly one who did not dance was the bride; she only sat there and looked\non, and when the bridegroom came to fetch her, she sent him away. For\nthe moment there was no thought of stopping. The fiddler knew neither\nrest nor repose, and did not pass his cap, but played merrily on with\nhis left hand, and beat time with his foot, until he was dripping with\nsweat, and the fiddle was hidden by the dust and smoke. When Andrew\nnoticed that his own feet began to twitch where he was standing, he\nthought to himself: \"Now I had better shoot away, or else he will play\nme right off the ground!\" So he turned his gun, thrust it through the\nwindow, and shot it off over the bride's head; but upside down,\notherwise the bullet would have hit him. The moment the shot crashed,\nall the troll-folk tumbled out of the door together; but when they saw\nthat the schooner was banned on the shore, they wailed and crept into a\nhole in the hill. But all the gold and silver dishes were left behind,\nand the bride, too, was still sitting there. She told Lucky Andrew that\nshe had been carried into the hill when she was only a small child.\nOnce, when her mother had gone to the pen to attend to the milking, she\nhad taken her along; but when she had to go home for a moment, she left\nthe child sitting under a juniper-bush, and told her that she might eat\nthe berries if she only repeated three times:\n\n      \"I eat juniper-berries blue,\n      Wherein Jesu's cross I view.\n      I eat whortle-berries red,\n      Since 'twas for my sake He bled!\"\n\nBut after her mother had gone, she found so many berries that she forgot\nto say her verse, and so she was enchanted and taken into the hill. And\nthere no harm had been done her, save that she had lost the top joint of\nthe little finger of her left hand, and the goblins had been kind to\nher; yet it had always seemed to her as though something were not as it\nshould be, she felt as though something weighed upon her, and she had\nsuffered greatly from the advances of the dwarf who had been chosen for\nher husband. When Andrew learned who her mother and her people were, he\nsaw that they were related to him, and they became very good friends. So\nAndrew could truly say he had been born under a lucky star. Then they\nsailed home, and took along the schooner, and all the gold and silver,\nand all the treasure which had been left in the hut, and then Andrew was\nfar wealthier than his brother.\n\nBut the latter, who suspected where all this wealth had come from, did\nnot wish to be any poorer than Andrew. He knew that trolls and goblins\nwalk mainly on Christmas Eve, and for that reason he sailed out to the\nsand banks at that time. And on Christmas Eve he did see a light or\nfire, but it seemed to be like will-o'-the-wisps fluttering about. When\nhe came nearer he heard splashes, horrible howls, and cold, piercing\ncries, and there was a smell of slime and sea-weed, as at ebb-tide.\nTerrified, he ran up into the hut, from whence he could see the trolls\non the shore. They were short and thick like hay-ricks, completely\ncovered with fur, with kirtles of skins, fishing boots, and enormous\nfist-gloves. In place of head and hair they had bundles of sea-weed.\nWhen they crawled up from the strand there was a gleam behind them like\nthat of rotting wood, and when they shook themselves they showered\nsparks about them. When they drew nearer, John Nicholas crawled up into\nthe loft as his brother had done. The goblins dragged a great stone into\nthe hut, and began to beat their gloves dry against it, and meanwhile\nthey screamed so that John Nicholas's blood turned to ice in his\nhiding-place. Then one of them sneezed into the ashes on the hearth\nin order to make the fire burn again; while the others carried in\nheather-grass and drift-wood, as coarse and heavy as lead. The smoke and\nthe heat nearly killed the eavesdropper in the loft, and in order to\ncatch his breath and get some fresh air, he tried to crawl out of the\nlook-out in the roof; yet he was of much heavier build than his brother,\nstuck fast and could move neither in nor out. Then he grew frightened\nand began to scream; but the goblins screamed much louder, and roared\nand howled, and thumped and clamored inside and outside the hut. But\nwhen the cock crowed they disappeared, and John Nicholas freed himself,\ntoo. Yet when he returned home from his trip, he had lost his reason,\nand after that the same cold, sinister screams which are the mark of the\ntroll in the Northland, might often be heard sounding from store-rooms\nand lofts where he happened to be. Before his death, however, his reason\nreturned, and he was buried in consecrated ground, as they say. But\nafter that time no human foot ever trod the sand-banks again. They sank,\nand the meer-folk, it is believed, went to the Lekang Islands. Andrew's\nluck held good; no ship made more successful trips than his own; but\nwhenever he came to the Lekang Islands he lay becalmed--the goblins went\naboard or ashore with their goods--but after a time he had fair winds,\nwhether he happened to want to go to Bergen, or sail home. He had many\nchildren, and all of them were bright and vigorous, yet every one of\nthem lacked the upper joint of the little finger of his left hand.\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    \"Lucky Andrew\" (Asbjoernsen, _Huldreeventyr_, I, p. 286. From\n    Heligoland) is one of a type which is a favorite character in the\n    fairy-tale, care-free, brave and always happy, though he dwells in\n    awful loneliness in the midst of the sea, and comes across the\n    most sinister goblins.\n\n\n\n\nXXXI\n\nTHE PASTOR AND THE SEXTON\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a pastor who was such a boor that when any\none was driving toward him along the highway, he would shout to them,\nwhile still some distance off: \"Get out of the way! Get out of the\npastor's way!\" One day, while he was doing this, along came the king.\n\"Get out of the way! Get out of the way!\" shouted the pastor. But the\nking drove as he had a mind to, and he drove so fast that this time it\nwas the pastor who had to get out of the way, and when the king passed\nhim, he called out: \"See that you come to me at the castle to-morrow,\nand if you cannot answer three questions I put to you, then you will\nhave to take off your pastor's gown as a punishment for your arrogance!\"\n\nThis sounded different from what the pastor was used to hearing. Shout\nand bluster, and completely forget himself in his arrogance, that he\nknew how to do; but returning a plain answer to a plain question was not\nhis strong point. So he went to the sexton, who was supposed to have\nmore in his upper story than the pastor. He told him he did not venture\nto go to the castle, because \"a fool can ask more than ten wise men can\nanswer,\" said he, and he induced the sexton to go in his stead.\n\nThe sexton set forth, and came to the castle dressed in the pastor's\ngown and ruff. The king received him out in the entrance with crown and\nscepter, and was so splendidly dressed that he fairly gleamed and shone.\n\n\"Well, are you here?\" Yes, indeed, there he was. \"First tell me,\" said\nthe king, \"the distance from East to West.\" \"It is one day's journey,\"\nsaid the sexton.\n\n\"And how is that?\" asked the king. \"Well, the sun rises in the East and\ngoes down in the West, and manages to do so nicely in the course of a\nsingle day,\" said the sexton.\n\n\"Good,\" said the king, \"but now tell me how much I am worth, just as I\nstand.\"\n\n\"Well, if our Lord Christ himself was valued at thirty pieces of silver,\nthen I can hardly value you at more than twenty-nine,\" said the sexton.\n\n\"Well and good,\" said the king, \"but since you are so wondrous wise,\ntell me what I am thinking now.\"\n\n\"Ah, my lord king, you are probably thinking that this is the pastor who\nis standing before you, but there you are greatly mistaken, for I am the\nsexton.\"\n\n\"Then drive straight home, and be the pastor, and the pastor shall be\nthe sexton,\" said the king, and that is what happened, too.\n\n    NOTE\n\n    The droll tale of \"The Pastor and the Sexton\" is widely known and\n    emphasizes in humorous guise the value of politeness and\n    consideration, as well as a ready wit. (Asbjoernsen, N.F.E.,\n    p. 126, No. 86. From Valsers.)\n\n\n\n\nXXXII\n\nTHE SKIPPER AND SIR URIAN\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a master mariner who had the most unheard of\ngood fortune in all that he undertook; none had such splendid cargoes,\nand none earned so much money as he did, for everything seemed to come\nto him. And it is quite certain that there were none who could risk\ntaking the trips he did, for wherever he sailed he had fair winds, yes,\nit was even said that when he turned around his cap, the wind turned\nwith it, to suit his wish.\n\nThus he sailed for many years with cargoes of lumber, and even went as\nfar as China, and earned money like hay. But once he sailed the North\nSea with all sails set, as though he had stolen ship and cargo. But the\none who was after him sailed even more swiftly. And that was Sir Urian,\nthe devil! With him the master mariner, as you may imagine, had made\na bargain, and that very day and hour the contract expired, and the\nmariner had to be prepared, from moment to moment, to see him arrive to\nfetch him.\n\nSo he came up on deck, out of the cabin, and took a look at the weather.\nThen he called the ship's carpenter and several others, and told them to\ngo down at once into the ship's hold, and bore two holes in the ship's\nbottom. Then they were to take the pumps from out their frames, and set\nthem closely over the holes, so that the water would rise quite high in\nthe pipes.\n\nThe men were surprised, and thought his orders passing strange, yet they\ndid as he told them. They bored the holes, and set up the pumps closely\nover them, so that not even a drop of water could get at the cargo; yet\nthe North Sea stood seven feet high in the pumps.\n\nNo more had they cast overboard their chips and litter than Sir Urian\ncame along in a squall, and grabbed the master mariner by the collar.\n\"Wait, old boy, the matter is not so terribly urgent!\" said he, and\nbegan to defend himself, and pry loose the claws that held him with an\nawl. \"Did you not bind yourself in your contract always to keep my ship\ntight and dry?\" said the master mariner. \"You are a nice article! Just\ntake a look at the pumps! The water stands seven feet high in the pipes!\nPump, devil, pump my ship dry, then you may take me to have and to hold\nas long as ever you wish!\"\n\nThe devil was fool enough, and allowed himself to be hoaxed. He worked\nand sweat, and the perspiration ran down his cheeks in such streams that\none might have run a mill with them, but he merely kept on pumping out\nof the North Sea into the North Sea. At last he had enough of it, and\nwhen he could pump no longer, he flew home to his grandmother to rest.\nHe let the master mariner stay master mariner as long as he might\nchoose, and if he has not died he is still sailing the seas at his own\nsweet will, and letting the wind blow according to how he turns his cap.\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    In the story of \"The Skipper and Sir Urian\" (Asbjoernsen, N.F.E.,\n    p. 33, No. 69. From the vicinity of Drontheim) we once more have\n    the devil, \"Old Eric,\" as the Norwegians call him, playing the\n    part of the dupe, this time as the victim of a cunning old\n    sea-dog.\n\n\n\n\nXXXIII\n\nTHE YOUTH WHO WAS TO SERVE THREE YEARS WITHOUT PAY\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a poor man, who had only one son; but one who\nwas so lazy and clumsy that he did not want to do a stroke of work. \"If\nI am not to feed this bean-pole for the rest of my life, I'll have to\nsend him far away, where not a soul knows him,\" thought the father.\n\"Once he is knocking about in the world, he will not be so likely to\ncome home again.\" So he took his son and led him about in the world, far\nand wide, and tried to get him taken on as a serving man; but no one\nwould have him. Finally, after wandering a long time, they came to a\nrich man, of whom it was said that he turned every shilling around seven\ntimes before he could make up his mind to part with it. He was willing\nto take the youth for a servant, and he was to work three years without\npay. But at the end of the three years, his master was to go into town,\ntwo days in succession, and buy the first thing he saw, and on the third\nmorning the youth himself was to go to town and also buy the first thing\nhe met. And all this he was to receive in lieu of his wage.\n\nSo the youth served out his three years, and did better than they had\nexpected him to do. He was by no means a model serving-man; but then\nhis master was none of the best, either, for he let him go all that time\nin the same clothes he had worn when he entered his service, until,\nfinally, one patch elbowed the other.\n\nNow when his master was to go to do his buying, he set out as early as\npossible in the morning. \"Costly wares are only to be seen by day,\" said\nhe, \"they are not drifting about the street so early. It will probably\ncost me enough as it is, for what I find is a matter of purest chance.\"\nThe first thing he saw on the street was an old woman, who was carrying\na covered basket. \"Good-day, granny,\" said the man. \"And good-day to\nyou, daddy,\" said the old woman.\n\n\"What have you in your basket?\" asked the man. \"Would you like to know?\"\nsaid the woman. \"Yes,\" said the man, \"for I have to buy the first thing\nthat comes my way.\" \"Well, if you want to know, buy it!\" said the old\nwoman. \"What does it cost?\" asked the man. She must have four shillings\nfor it, declared the woman. This did not seem such a tremendous price to\nhim, he would let it go at that, said he, and raised the cover. And\nthere lay a pup in the basket. When the man got home from his journey to\ntown, there stood the youth full of impatience and curiosity, wondering\nwhat his wage for the first year might be. \"Are you back already,\nmaster?\" asked the youth. \"Yes, indeed,\" said his master. \"And what have\nyou bought?\" asked the youth. \"What I have bought is nothing so very\nrare,\" said the man. \"I don't even know whether I ought to show it to\nyou; but I bought the first thing to be had, and that was a pup,\" said\nhe. \"And I thank you most kindly for it,\" said the youth. \"I have always\nbeen fond of dogs.\"\n\nThe following morning it was no better. The man set out as early as\npossible, and had not as yet reached town before he met the old woman\nwith the basket. \"Good-day, granny,\" said the man. \"And good-day to you,\ndaddy,\" said the old woman. \"What have you in your basket to-day?\" asked\nthe man. \"If you want to know, then buy it!\" was again the answer. \"What\ndoes it cost?\" asked the man. She wanted four shillings for it, she had\nonly the one price. The man said he would buy it, for he thought that\nthis time he would make a better purchase. He raised the cover, and this\ntime a kitten lay in the basket. When he reached home, there stood the\nyouth, waiting to see what he was to get in lieu of his second year's\nwages. \"Are you back again, master!\" said he. \"Yes, indeed,\" said the\nmaster. \"What did you buy to-day?\" asked the youth. \"Alas, nothing\nbetter than I did yesterday,\" said the man, \"but I did as we agreed, and\nbought the first thing I came across, and that was this kitten.\" \"You\ncould not have hit on anything better,\" said the youth, \"for all my life\nlong I have been fond of cats as well as of dogs.\" \"I do not fare so\nbadly this way,\" thought the man, \"but when he sets out for himself,\nthen the matter will probably turn out differently.\"\n\nSo the third morning the youth set out for himself, and when he entered\ntown, he came across the same old woman with her basket on her arm.\n\"Good morning, granny,\" said he. \"And good morning to you, my boy,\" said\nthe old woman. \"What have you in your basket?\" asked the youth. \"If you\nwant to know, then buy it!\" answered the old woman. \"Do you want to sell\nit?\" asked the youth. Yes, indeed, and it would cost four shillings,\nsaid the old woman. That is a bargain, thought the youth, and wanted to\ntake it, for he had to buy the first thing that came his way. \"Well, you\ncan take the whole blessed lot,\" said the old woman, \"the basket and all\nthat's in it. But do not look into it before you get home, do you hear!\"\nNo, indeed, he would be sure not to look in the basket, said he. But on\nthe way, he kept wondering as to what might be in the basket, and\nwilly-nilly--he could not keep from raising the cover a little, and\nlooking through the crack. But that very minute a little lizard popped\nout of the crack, and ran across the road so quickly that it fairly\nhummed--and aside from the lizard there was nothing in the basket.\n\"Stop, wait a minute, and don't run away! I just bought you,\" said the\nyouth. \"Stab me in the neck! Stab me in the neck!\" cried the lizard. The\nyouth did not have to be told twice. He ran after the lizard and stabbed\nit in the neck just as it was slipping into a hole in a wall. And that\nvery moment it turned into a man, as handsome and splendid as the\nhandsomest prince, and a prince he was, if truth be told.\n\n\"Now you have delivered me,\" said he, \"for the old woman, with whom you\nand your master have been dealing, is a witch, and she turned me into a\nlizard, and my brother and sister into a dog and cat.\" The youth thought\nthis a remarkable tale. \"Yes, indeed,\" said the prince. \"She was\nactually on the way to throw us into the sea and drown us; but if any\none were to appear and want to buy us, she had to sell us for four\nshillings apiece, that had been agreed upon. And now you shall go home\nwith me to my father, and be rewarded for your good deed.\" \"Your home\nmust be a good way off,\" said the youth. \"O, it is not so far,\" declared\nthe prince, \"there it is!\" And he pointed to a high hill in the\ndistance.\n\nThey marched along as fast as they could, but still it was farther away\nthan it seemed. So it was late at night before they reached their goal.\nThe prince knocked. \"Who is knocking at my door, and disturbing my\nsleep?\" came a voice within the hill. And the voice was so powerful that\nthe earth trembled. \"Open, father, your son has come home!\" cried the\nprince. Then the father was glad to open the door quickly. \"I thought\nyou were already lying at the bottom of the sea,\" said the old man.\n\"But you are not alone?\" \"This is the chap who delivered me,\" said the\nprince, \"and I asked him to come with me so that you could reward him.\"\nThat he would attend to, said the old man. \"Now you must come right in,\"\nsaid he, \"for here you may rest in safety.\" They went in and sat down,\nand the old man laid an armful of wood and a couple of big logs on the\nfire, until every corner was as bright as day, and wherever they looked\neverything was indescribably splendid. The youth had never seen anything\nlike it, and such fine things to eat and drink as the old man served up\nto him, he had never yet tasted. And the bowls and dishes, and goblets\nand plates, were all of pure silver and shining gold.\n\nThere was no need to urge the young folk. They ate and drank and enjoyed\nthemselves, and then slept far into the next day. The youth was still\nasleep when the old man came and offered him a morning draft in a golden\ngoblet. And when he had put on his rags and breakfasted, he was allowed\nto pick out what he wanted, as a reward for delivering the prince. There\nwas much to see and still more to take, as you may believe. \"Well, what\ndo you want?\" asked the king. \"You may take what you will; for as you\nsee there is enough from which to choose.\" The youth said he would have\nto think it over a bit, and speak to the prince. And that he was allowed\nto do. \"Well, I suppose you have seen all sorts of beautiful things?\"\nasked the prince. \"That is a fact,\" said the youth. \"But tell me, what\nought I to choose among all these magnificent things? Your father said I\nmight pick out whatever I wished.\" \"You must choose none among all the\nthings you have seen,\" answered the prince, \"but my father wears a ring\non his little finger, and you must ask him for that.\" This the youth\ndid, and begged the king for the ring on his finger. \"It is dearer to\nme than anything else I have,\" said the king, \"but my son is just as\ndear to me, and therefore I will give you the ring. Do you know what\npowers it has?\" No, that the youth did not know. \"While you wear it on\nyour finger, you can get everything that you want to have,\" said the\nking. The youth thanked him most kindly, and the king and the prince\nwished him all manner of luck on his journey, and charged him to take\nthe best care of the ring.\n\nHe had not been long underway before it occurred to him to test what the\nring could do. So he wished to be dressed in new clothes from head to\ntoe, and no more had he uttered the wish than there he was in them. And\nhe looked as handsome and bright as a new nickel. Then he thought to\nhimself it would be pleasant to play a trick on his father. \"He was none\ntoo friendly to me while I was still at home.\" And so the youth wished\nhe were standing before his father's door, just as ragged as he had been\nbefore. And that very minute there he stood.\n\n\"Good-day, father, and many thanks for the last time!\" said the youth.\nBut when his father saw he had come home far more tattered and torn than\nwhen he had gone away, he grew angry and began to scold: \"There is\nnothing to be made of you, if during all the long years of your service\nyou have not even been able to earn a suit of clothes to your back.\"\n\n\"Now do not be so angry, father,\" said the youth. \"You need not take for\ngranted that a fellow is a vagabond because he goes about in rags. Now\nI want you to go to the king as my proxy, and ask his daughter's hand\nfor me.\" \"Come, come, why, that is utter folly and nonsense!\" cried his\nfather. But the youth insisted that it was gospel truth, and took a\nbirch bough, and drove his father to the king's castle-gate. And the\nlatter came stumbling right in to the king, and wept so that the tears\njust tumbled out.\n\n\"Well, what has happened to you, my dear fellow?\" asked the king. \"If a\nwrong has been done you, I will see that you get your rights.\" No, no\nwrong had been done him, said the man, but he had a son who gave him a\ngreat deal of trouble: it was impossible to make a man of him, and now\nhe had evidently lost what few senses he did possess. \"Because he has\njust chased me to the castle-gate with a birch bough, and threatened me,\nif I do not get him the king's daughter for a bride,\" said the man. \"Set\nyour mind at rest, my good fellow,\" said the king, \"and send your son to\nme. Then we will see whether we can come to an understanding.\"\n\nThe youth came rushing in to the king, so that his rags fairly\nfluttered. \"Do I get your daughter?\" he cried. \"Well, that is just what\nwe are going to discuss,\" said the king, \"perhaps she would not answer\nfor you, and perhaps you would not answer for her,\" said he. That might\nbe the case, said the youth.\n\nNow a great ship from abroad had shortly before come into port, and one\ncould see it from the castle window. \"Now we'll see,\" said the king. \"If\nyou can build a ship that is the exact counterpart of the one outside,\nand just as handsome, in the space of an hour or two, then, perhaps, you\nmay get my daughter,\" said the king.\n\n\"If it be no more than that ...\" said the youth. Then he went down to\nthe shore and sat on a sand-pile, and when he had sat there long enough,\nhe wished that a ship might lie out in the fjord, completely equipped\nwith masts and sails and all that goes with them, and that it might\nresemble the ship already lying there in every particular. And that very\nminute there lay the ship, and when the king saw that there were two\nships at anchor instead of one, he came down to the shore himself to\nlook more closely into the matter. And then he saw the youth. He was\nstanding in a boat, with a broom in one hand, as though he meant to give\nthe ship a final cleaning; but when he saw the king coming, he threw\naway the broom and cried: \"Now the ship is finished. Do I get your\ndaughter now?\"\n\n\"That is all very fine,\" said the king, \"but you must stand yet another\ntest. If you can build a castle that is just like mine in every\nparticular within an hour or so, then we will go further into the\nmatter.\"\n\n\"No more than that?\" cried the youth. After he had strolled around for a\nlong while, and the time set was nearly over, he wished that a castle\nmight stand there that resembled the king's castle in every particular.\nAnd before long there it stood, as you may believe. And it did not\ntake long, either, before the king, together with the queen and the\nprincess, came to look at the new castle. The youth stood there with his\nbroom again, and swept and cleaned. \"Now the castle is in apple-pie\norder. Do I get her now?\" he cried.\n\n\"That's all very fine,\" declared the king, \"just come in and we'll talk\nit over,\" said he, for he had noticed that the youth knew a thing or\ntwo, and he was thinking over how he might get rid of him. The king went\non ahead, and after him the queen, and then went the princess, just in\nadvance of the youth. Then he at once wished to be the handsomest man in\nthe world, and so he was, that very minute. When the princess saw what\na splendid figure he suddenly cut, she nudged the queen, who in turn\nnudged the king, and after they had stared at him long enough, they at\nlast realized that the youth was more than he had at first appeared to\nbe, in his rags. So they decided that the princess was to treat him\nnicely, in order to find out how matters really stood, and the princess\nwas as sweet and amiable as sugar-bread, and flattered the youth, and\nsaid that she could not do without him, night or day. And when it came\ntoward the end of the first evening, she said: \"Since you and I are to\nbe married in any case, I am sure you will have no secrets from me, and\nyou will not want to hide from me how you managed to do all these fine\nthings.\"\n\n\"O, yes,\" said the youth. \"You shall know about it, but first of all let\nus be married; before that nothing counts!\"\n\nThe following evening the princess pretended to be quite unhappy. She\nwas well aware, said she, that he did not attach much importance to her\nlove, when he would not even tell her what she wanted so much to know.\nIf he could not even oblige her in such a small matter, his love could\nnot amount to a great deal. Then the youth fell into despair, and to\nmake up with her again, he told her everything. She lost no time, and\nlet the king and queen know all about it. Thereupon they agreed as to\nhow they would go about getting the youth's ring away from him, and\nthen, thought they, it would not really be hard to get rid of him.\n\nIn the evening the princess came with a sleeping potion, and said she\nwanted to give her lover a drink that would increase his love for her,\nsince it was plain he did not love her enough. The youth suspected\nnothing, and drank, and at once fell so fast asleep that they could have\npulled down the house over his head. Then the princess drew the ring\nfrom his finger, put it on herself, and wished the youth might be lying\non the garbage-pile in the street, just as tattered and torn as he had\ncome to them, and in his place she wanted the handsomest prince in the\nworld. And that very minute everything happened just as she wished.\nAfter a time the youth woke up, out on the garbage-pile, and at\nfirst thought he was dreaming: but when he saw the ring was gone, he\nunderstood how it all had happened, and fell into such despair that he\ngot up and wanted to jump right into the sea.\n\nBut then he met the cat his master had bought for him. \"Where are you\ngoing?\" she asked. \"To throw myself into the sea and drown,\" was the\nyouth's reply.\n\n\"Do not do so on any account,\" said the cat. \"You will get your ring\nagain.\"\n\n\"Yes, if that were so, then ...\" said the youth.\n\nThe cat ran away. Suddenly a rat crossed her path. \"Now I will pounce on\nyou!\" said the cat. \"O do not do that,\" said the rat, \"you shall have\nthe ring again!\"\n\n\"Well, if that is so, then ...\" said the cat.\n\nWhen the folk at the castle had gone to bed, the rat crept around, and\nsniffed and spied out the room of the prince and princess; and at last\nhe found a little hole through which he crawled. Then he heard the\nprince and princess talking to each other, and saw that the prince was\nwearing the ring on his finger. Before she went, the princess said:\n\"Good night. And see that you take good care of the ring, my dearest!\"\n\n\"Pooh! no one will come in through the walls for the sake of a ring,\"\nsaid the prince, \"but if you think it is not safe enough on my hand,\nwhy, I can put it in my mouth.\"\n\nAfter a time he lay down on his back, and prepared to go to sleep. But\njust then the ring slipped down his throat, and he had to cough, so\nthat the ring flew out and rolled along the ground. Swish!--the rat had\ncaught it, and crept out with it to the cat, who was waiting at the\nrat-hole. But in the meantime the king had caught the youth, and had had\nhim put in a great tower and condemned to death, because he had made a\nmock of his daughter--so the king said. And the youth was to sit in the\ntower until he was beheaded. But the cat kept prowling around the tower\nall the time, trying to sneak in with the ring. And then an eagle came\nalong, caught her up in his claws and flew across the sea with her. And\nsuddenly a hawk appeared, and flung himself on the eagle, and the eagle\nlet the cat fall into the sea. When she felt the water, she grew afraid,\nlet the ring fall, and swam to land. No sooner had she shaken the water\nfrom her fur than she met the dog whom the youth's master had bought for\nhim.\n\n\"Well, what am I to do now?\" said the cat, and wept and lamented. \"The\nring is gone, and they want to murder the youth.\" \"That I do not know,\"\nsaid the dog, \"but what I do know is that I have the very worst kind of\nan ache in my stomach,\" said he.\n\n\"There you have it. You have surely over-eaten,\" said the cat.\n\n\"I never eat more than I need,\" said the dog, \"and just now I have eaten\nnothing at all, save a dead fish that was left here by the ebb-tide.\"\n\n\"Could the fish have swallowed the ring?\" asked the cat. \"And must you,\nalso, lose your life, because you cannot digest gold?\"\n\n\"That may well be the case,\" said the dog. \"But then it would be best\nif I died at once, for then the youth might still be saved.\"\n\n\"O, that is not necessary!\" said the rat--who was there, too--\"I do not\nneed a very large opening through which to crawl, and if the ring is\nreally there, I am sure I can find it.\" So the rat slipped down into the\ndog, and before very long he came out again with the ring. And then the\ncat made her way to the tower, and clawed her way up till she found a\nhole through which she could thrust her paw, and thus brought back the\nring to the youth.\n\nNo sooner was it on his finger than he wished that the tower might break\ndown, and that very moment he was standing just before the tower-gate,\nand reviling the king and the queen and the king's daughter as though\nthey were the lowest of the low. The king hastily called together his\narmy, and told it to surround the tower, and take the youth prisoner,\ndead or alive. But the youth only wished the whole army might be\nsticking up to their necks in the big swamp in the hills, and there they\nhad trouble enough getting out--those among them who did not stick fast.\nThen he went right on reviling where he had stopped, and finally, when\nhe had told them all just what he thought of them, he wished that the\nking, the queen and the king's daughter might sit for the rest of their\nlives in the tower into which they had thrust him. And when they were\nsitting there, he took possession of the king's land and country on his\nown account. Then the dog changed into a prince, and the cat into a\nprincess, and he made the latter his wife, and they were married and\ncelebrated their wedding long and profusely.\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    In \"The Youth Who Was to Serve Three Years Without Pay\"\n    (Asbjoernsen, N.F.E., No. 63, p. 8. From Gudbrandsdal) we have the\n    tale of a magic ring, whose possessor is robbed of it by a\n    faithless woman, and which is brought back to him by faithful\n    animals, after various vicissitudes.\n\n\n\n\nXXXIV\n\nTHE YOUTH WHO WANTED TO WIN THE DAUGHTER OF THE MOTHER IN THE CORNER\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a woman who had a son, and he was so lazy and\nslow that there was not a single blessed useful thing he would do. But\nhe liked to sing and to dance, and that is what he did all day long, and\nfar into the night as well. The longer this went on, the worse off his\nmother was. The youth was growing, and he wanted so much to eat that it\nwas barely possible to find it, and more and more went for his clothes\nthe older he grew, since his clothes did not last long, as you may\nimagine, because the youth skipped and dance about without stopping,\nthrough forest and field.\n\nAt length it was too much for his mother, so one day she told the young\nfellow that he ought at last to get to work, and really do something, or\nboth of them would have to starve to death. But the youth had no mind to\ndo so, he said, and would rather try to win the daughter of the mother\nin the corner, for if he got her, then he would live happily ever after,\nand could sing and dance, and would not have to plague himself with\nwork.\n\nWhen the mother heard that she thought it might not be such a bad idea\nafter all, and she dressed up the youth as well as she could, so that\nhe would make a good showing when he came to the mother in the corner,\nand then he set forth.\n\nWhen he stepped out the sun was shining bright and warm; but it had\nrained during the night, and the ground was soft and full of water\npuddles. The youth took the shortest path to the mother in the corner,\nand sang and danced, as he always did. But suddenly, as he was hopping\nand skipping along, he came to a swamp, and there were only some logs\nlaid down to cross it; and from the one log he had to jump over a puddle\nto a clump of grass, unless he wanted to dirty his shoes. And then he\nwent kerflop! The very moment he set foot on the clump of grass, he went\ndown and down until he was standing in a dark, ugly hole. At first he\ncould see nothing at all, but when he had been there a little while, he\nsaw that there was a rat, who was wiggling and waggling around, and had\na bunch of keys hanging from her tail.\n\n\"Have you come, my boy?\" said the rat. \"I must thank you for coming to\nvisit me: I have been expecting you for a long time. I am sure you have\ncome to win me, and I can well imagine that you are in a great hurry.\nBut you must have a little patience. I am to receive a large dower, and\nam not yet ready for the wedding; but I will do my best to see that we\nare married soon.\"\n\nWhen she had said this, she produced a couple of egg-shells, with all\nsorts of eatables such as rats eat, and set them down before the youth,\nand said: \"Now you must sit down and help yourself, for I am sure you\nare tired and hungry.\"\n\nThe youth had no great appetite for this food. \"If I were only away and\nup above again,\" thought he, but he said nothing.\n\n\"Now I think you must surely want to get home again,\" said the rat. \"I\nam well aware that you are waiting impatiently for the wedding, and I\nwill hurry all I can. Take this linen thread along, and when you get up\nabove, you must not turn around, but must go straight home, and as you\ngo you must keep repeating: 'Short before and long behind!'\" and with\nthat she laid a linen thread in his hand.\n\n\"Heaven be praised!\" said the youth when he was up above once more.\n\"I'll not go down there again in a hurry.\" But he held the thread in his\nhand, and danced and sang as usual. And although he no longer had the\nrat-hole in mind, he began to hum:\n\n      \"Short before and long behind!\n      Short before and long behind!\"\n\nWhen he stood before the door at home, he turned around; and there lay\nmany, many hundred yards of the finest linen, finer than the most\nskillful weaver could have spun.\n\n\"Mother, come out, come out!\" called and cried the youth. His mother\ncame darting out, and asked what was the matter. And when she saw the\nlinen, stretching as far as she could see, and then a bit, she could\nnot believe her eyes, until the youth told her how it all happened. But\nwhen she had heard that, and had tested the linen between her fingers,\nshe was so pleased that she, too, began to sing and dance.\n\nThen she took the linen, cut it, and sewed shirts from it for her son\nand herself, and the remainder she took to town and sold for a good\nprice. Then for a time they lived in all joy and comfort. But when that\nwas over the woman had not a bite to eat in the house, and so she told\nher son that it was the highest time for him to take service, and really\ndo something, or else both of them would have to starve to death.\n\nBut the youth preferred to go to the mother in the corner, and try to\nwin her daughter. His mother did not think this such a bad idea, for now\nthe youth was handsomely dressed, and made a good showing.\n\nSo she brushed him, and furbished him up as well as she could, and he\nhimself took a pair of new shoes, and polished them till they shone like\na mirror, and when he had done so, off he went. Everything happened as\nbefore. When he stepped out, the sun was shining bright and warm; but it\nhad rained during the night, and the road was soft and muddy, and every\npuddle was full of water. The youth took the shortest way to the mother\nin the corner, and sang and danced and danced and sang, as he always\ndid. He followed another road, not the one he had taken before; but as\nhe was hopping and skipping along, he suddenly came to the log across\nthe swamp, and from the log he had to jump over a puddle to a clump of\ngrass, unless he wanted to dirty his shoes. And then he went kerflop.\nAnd he sank down and could not stop, until he reached a horrible, dark,\nugly hole. At first he could see nothing; but after he had stood there a\nwhile, he discovered a rat with a bunch of keys at the end of her tail,\nwhich she was wiggling and waggling in front of him.\n\n\"Have you come, my boy?\" said the rat. \"You are welcome among us! It was\nkind of you to come and visit me again so soon; no doubt you are very\nimpatient, I can well imagine it. But you must really be patient a\nlittle while longer; for my trousseau is not quite complete, but by the\ntime you come again all shall be ready.\" When she had said this she\noffered him egg-shells containing all sorts of food such as rats like.\nBut it looked to the youth like food that had been eaten, and he said\nthat he had no appetite. \"If I were only safely away, and up above\nagain,\" thought he, but he said nothing. After a time the rat said: \"Now\nI think you must surely want to get up above again. I will hurry on the\nwedding as quickly as I can. And now take this woolen thread along, and\nwhen you get up above, you must not turn around, but go straight home,\nand underway you must keep on repeating: 'Short before and long\nbehind!'\" and with that she laid the woolen thread in his hand.\n\n\"Thank heaven, I have escaped!\" said the youth to himself. \"I am sure\nI'll never go there again,\" and then he sang and danced again as usual.\nHe thought no more of the rat-hole, but fell to humming, and sang\nwithout stopping:\n\n      \"Short before and long behind!\n      Short before and long behind!\"\n\nWhen he stood at the door of the house, he happened to look around; and\nthere lay the finest woolen goods, many hundred yards of it, stretching\nfor half a mile, and so fine that no city counselor wore a coat of finer\ncloth.\n\n\"Mother, mother, come out, come out!\" cried the youth. His mother came\nto the door, clasped her hands together over her head, and nearly\nfainted with joy when she saw all the fine goods. And then the youth had\nto tell her how it had come to him, and all that had taken place, from\nbeginning to end. This brought them a small fortune, as you may imagine.\nThe youth had new clothes, and his mother went to town and sold the\ngoods, yard by yard, and was handsomely paid for them. And then she\ndecorated her room, and she herself, in her old days, went about in such\nstyle that she might have been taken for some lady of distinction. So\nthey lived splendidly and happily, but finally this money, too, came to\nan end; and one day the woman had not a bite to eat left in the house,\nand told her son that now he had better look for work, and really do\nsomething, or both of them would starve to death.\n\nBut the youth thought it would be much better to go to the mother in the\ncorner and try to win her daughter. This time his mother again agreed\nwith him, and did not contradict the youth; for now he had fine new\nclothes, and looked so distinguished that it seemed out of the question\nto her that such a good-looking fellow would be refused. So she\nfurbished him up and tricked him out in the handsomest way, and he\nhimself took out his new shoes and polished them so brightly that you\ncould see yourself in them, and when he had done so he set forth.\n\nThis time he did not choose the shortest road; but took a roundabout\nway, the longest he could find, for he did not want to go down to the\nrat again because he was sick of her eternal wiggling and waggling, and\nthe talk about marriage. The weather and the road were exactly the same\nas when he had gone before. The sun shone, the swamp and the puddles\ngleamed, and the youth sang and danced as usual. And in the midst of his\nskipping and jumping, before he knew it, there he stood at the same\ncrossing which led across the swamp. There he had to jump over a puddle\nto a clump of grass, unless he wanted to dirty his brightly polished\nshoes. \"Kerflop!\" and down he went, and did not stop until he stood once\nmore in the same dark, ugly, dirty hole. At first he was pleased because\nhe could see nothing. But after he had stood there a while, he once more\ndiscovered the ugly rat who was so repulsive to him, with the bunch of\nkeys hanging from her tail.\n\n\"Good-day, my boy,\" said the rat. \"You are welcome! I see that you can\nno longer live without me, and I thank you. And now everything is in\nreadiness for our wedding, and we will go straight to church.\" Nothing\nwill come of that, thought the youth, but he did not say a word. Then\nthe rat whistled, and at once every corner was alive with swarms of mice\nand small rats, and six large rats came dragging along a frying-pan. Two\nmice sat up behind as grooms, and two sprang up in front to drive the\ncoach. Several seated themselves within, and the rat with the bunch of\nkeys took her place in their midst. To the youth she said: \"The road\nis a little narrow here, so you will have to walk beside the coach,\nsweetheart, until the road is broader. And then you may sit beside me in\nthe coach.\"\n\n\"How fine that will be!\" thought the youth. \"If I were only safely up\nabove once more, I would run away from the whole pack of them,\" thought\nhe, but he said nothing. He went along with the procession as well as he\ncould; at times he had to crawl, at others he had to stoop, for the way\nwas very narrow. But when it grew better, he walked in advance, and\nlooked about to see how he might most easily steal away and make off.\nAnd then he suddenly heard a clear, beautiful voice behind him say: \"Now\nthe road is good! Come, sweetheart, and get into the coach!\"\n\nThe youth turned around quickly, and was so astonished that his nose and\nears nearly fell off. There stood a magnificent coach with six white\nhorses, and in the coach sat a maiden as fair and beautiful as the sun,\nand about her were sitting others, as bright and kindly as the stars. It\nwas a princess and her playmates, who had all been enchanted together.\nBut now they were delivered, because he had come down to them, and had\nnever contradicted.\n\n\"Come along now!\" said the princess. Then the youth got into the coach,\nand drove to church with her. And when they drove away from the church,\nthe princess said: \"Now we will first drive to my home, and then we will\nsend for your mother.\"\n\n\"That's all very fine,\" thought the youth--he said nothing, but he\nthought it would be better, after all, to drive to his home, instead of\ndown into the hideous rat-hole. But suddenly they came to a beautiful\ncastle, and there they turned in, for there it was they were to live.\nAnd at once a fine coach with six horses was sent for the youth's\nmother, and when she came the wedding festivities began. They celebrated\nfor fourteen days, and perhaps they are celebrating yet. We must hurry,\nand perhaps we may still get there in time, and can drink the groom's\nhealth and dance with the bride!\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    Told with much charm and wealth of detail is the story of \"The\n    Youth Who Wanted to Win the Daughter of the Mother in the Corner\"\n    (Asbjoernsen, N.F.E., No. 77, p. 73). It is another tale of a\n    deliverance from enchantment, and the conditions are silence and\n    lack of contradiction on the part of the deliverer.\n\n\n\n\nXXXV\n\nTHE CHRONICLE OF THE PANCAKE\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a woman who had seven hungry children, and\nshe was baking pancakes for them. There was dough made with new milk,\nand it lay in the pan, and was rising so plumply and comfortably, that\nit was a pleasure to watch it. The children stood around it, and their\ngrandfather sat and looked on.\n\n\"Give me a little bit of pancake, mother, I'm so hungry!\" said one of\nthe children.\n\n\"Dear mother!\" said the second.\n\n\"Dear, sweet mother!\" said the third.\n\n\"Dear, sweet, good mother!\" said the fourth.\n\n\"Dear, best, sweet, good mother!\" said the fifth.\n\n\"Dear, best, sweet, good, dearest mother!\" said the sixth.\n\n\"Dear, best, sweet, good, dearest, sweetest mother!\" said the seventh,\nand so they all begged around the pancake, one more sweetly than the\nother, for they were all so hungry and so well-behaved.\n\n\"Yes, children, wait until it turns around,\" said she--until I have\nturned it around, she should have said--\"then you shall all have a\npancake, a lovely best-milk pancake. Just see how fat and comfortable it\nis lying there!\"\n\n  [Illustration: \"'HEY THERE!' THE WOMAN WAS AFTER IT WITH THE PAN IN\n  ONE HAND AND THE SPOON IN THE OTHER.\"\n                                                     --_Page 275_]\n\nWhen the pancake heard that it was frightened, turned itself around\nsuddenly, and wanted to get out of the pan; but it only fell on its\nother side, and when this had baked a little, so that it took shape and\ngrew firmer, it leaped out on the floor, and rolled off like a wheel,\nout of the door, and down the street.\n\nHey there! The woman was after it with the pan in one hand, and the\nspoon in the other, as fast as she could, and after her came the\nchildren, and last of all, their grandfather came hobbling along.\n\n\"Will you wait! Halt! Catch it! Hold it!\" they all cried together, and\nwanted to catch up with it and grab it on the run; but the pancake\nrolled and rolled, and sure enough, it got so far ahead of them that\nthey could no longer see it, for it had nimbler legs than all of them.\nAfter it had rolled a while it met a man.\n\n\"Good-day, pancake,\" said the man.\n\n\"Good-day, Man Tan,\" said the pancake.\n\n\"Dear, good pancake, don't roll so fast; but wait a little and let me\neat you!\" said the man.\n\n\"Mother Gray and grandpa I've left behind, and the seven squallers, too,\nyou'll find, so I think I can leave you as well, Man Tan!\" said the\npancake, and rolled and rolled until it met a hen.\n\n\"Good-day, pancake,\" said the hen.\n\n\"Good-day, Hen Glen,\" said the pancake.\n\n\"Dear, good pancake, don't roll so fast, wait a little and I will eat\nyou up!\" said the hen.\n\n\"Mother Gray and grandpa I've left behind, and the seven squallers,\ntoo, you'll find, and Man Tan, so I think I can leave you as well, Hen\nGlen!\" said the pancake, and rolled along the road like a wheel. Then it\nmet a rooster.\n\n\"Good-day, pancake,\" said the rooster.\n\n\"Good-day, Rooster Booster,\" said the pancake.\n\n\"Dear, good pancake, don't roll so fast. Wait a little and I will eat\nyou up!\" said the rooster.\n\n\"Mother Gray and grandpa I've left behind, and the seven squallers, too,\nyou'll find, and Man Tan and Hen Glen, and so I think I can leave you as\nwell, Rooster Booster,\" said the pancake, and rolled and rolled as fast\nas ever it could. And after it had rolled a long time it met a duck.\n\n\"Good-day, pancake,\" said the duck.\n\n\"Good-day, Duck Tuck,\" said the pancake.\n\n\"Dear, good pancake, don't roll so fast. Wait a little and I will eat\nyou up!\" said the duck.\n\n\"Mother Gray and grandpa I've left behind, and the seven squallers, too,\nyou'll find, and Man Tan, and Hen Glen and Rooster Booster, so I think I\ncan leave you as well,\" said the pancake, and rolled on as fast as ever\nit could. After it had rolled a long, long time, it met a goose.\n\n\"Good-day, pancake,\" said the goose.\n\n\"Good-day, Goose Loose,\" said the pancake.\n\n\"Dear, good pancake, don't roll so fast. Wait a little and I will eat\nyou up!\" said the goose.\n\n\"Mother Gray and grandpa I've left behind, and the seven squallers, too,\nyou'll find, and Man Tan and Hen Glen and Rooster Booster and Duck\nTuck, and I think I can leave you as well, Goose Loose,\" said the\npancake, and rolled away.\n\nAfter it had again rolled for a long, long time, it met a gander.\n\n\"Good-day, pancake,\" said the gander.\n\n\"Good-day, Gander Meander,\" said the pancake.\n\n\"Dear, good pancake, don't roll so fast. Wait a little and I will eat\nyou up!\" said the gander.\n\n\"Mother Gray and grandpa I've left behind, and the seven squallers, too,\nyou'll find, and Man Tan and Hen Glen and Rooster Booster and Duck Tuck\nand Goose Loose, and I think I can leave you as well, Gander Meander,\"\nsaid the pancake, and began to roll as fast as ever it could.\n\nAfter it had rolled a long, long time, it met a pig.\n\n\"Good-day, pancake,\" said the pig.\n\n\"Good-day, Pig Snig,\" said the pancake, and began to roll as fast as\never it could.\n\n\"Now wait a little,\" said the pig. \"You need not hurry so, for we can\nkeep each other company going through the forest and take our time, for\nit is said to be haunted.\" The pancake thought that such was quite apt\nto be the case, and so they started off; but after they had gone a while\nthey came to a brook.\n\nThe pig swam across on his own bacon, which was easy enough; but the\npancake could not get across.\n\n\"Sit down on my snout,\" said the pig, \"and I will carry you over that\nway.\" The pancake did so.\n\n\"Uff, uff!\" said the pig, and swallowed the pancake in one mouthful.\n\n      \"And now, since the pancake no further goes,\n      This little chronicle comes to a close.\"\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    \"The Chronicle of the Pancake\" (Asbjoernsen, N.F.E., No. 104,\n    p. 233. From Sell, Froen and Faaberg) is a merry, harmless,\n    nursery tale, belonging to the type of \"The House That Jack\n    Built,\" in an accumulation of repeated sentences and\n    characteristic names.\n\n\n\n\nXXXVI\n\nSORIA-MORIA CASTLE\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a couple who had an only son named Halvor.\nWhile he was still but a little lad, he would do nothing at all; but\nwas always sitting at the hearth, digging in the ashes. His parents\napprenticed him here and apprenticed him there, to be taught something,\nbut Halvor never stayed. When he had been anywhere for a few days, he\nran away again, went back home, sat down at the hearth, and dug in the\nashes. But once a master mariner came along and asked whether Halvor\nwould not like to go with him, and sail the seas, and see foreign lands.\nIndeed, Halvor would like to do so very much, and it did not take him\nlong to make up his mind.\n\nHow long they sailed the seas I do not know, but suddenly a powerful\nstorm arose, and when it had passed, and all had grown quiet once more,\nthey did not know where they were. They had been driven off their course\nto a foreign shore, which none among them recognized.\n\nAnd then, since not a breeze was stirring, they lay there, and Halvor\nbegged the master mariner for permission to go ashore, and look around,\nfor he would rather do that than lie down and sleep. \"Do you think you\nare fit to appear before people?\" asked the master mariner. \"The only\nclothes you have are the rags in which you stand and walk!\" Yet Halvor\ninsisted, and finally he was given permission. But he was to come back\nwhen the wind blew up. Halvor went, and it was a fair land. No matter\nwhere he came, there were great plains, with fields and pastures; but he\nsaw no people at all. The wind blew up again, but Halvor decided that\nhe had not yet seen enough, and wanted to go a little further, and see\nwhether there were no people to be found at all. After a time he came to\na great highway, which was so even one could have rolled an egg along it\nwith ease. Halvor went on along this highway, and as evening drew near,\nhe saw a great castle in the distance, that shone afar. Since he had\nbeen wandering all day long, without much in the way of food, he had a\nfine appetite; but the nearer he came to the castle, the more frightened\nhe grew.\n\nIn the castle there was a fire on the hearth, and Halvor went into the\nkitchen, which was beautiful. The kitchenware was all of silver and\ngold; but there were no human beings to be seen. After Halvor had waited\na while, and no one came out, he went and opened a door. There he saw a\nprincess sitting and spinning. \"Alas, no!\" cried she. \"Has a Christian\nsoul really come here! But it would be best for you to go again, if you\ndo not want the troll to swallow you; for a troll with three heads lives\nhere.\"\n\n\"And though he had four, I should like to see him,\" said the youth. \"And\nI am not going away, for I have done no wrong. But you must give me\nsomething to eat, for I am terribly hungry.\" When Halvor had eaten his\nfill, the princess told him to try and see whether he could swing the\nsword that hung on the wall. But he could not swing it, nor even raise\nit. \"Well,\" said the princess, \"you must take a swallow from the bottle\nthat hangs beside it, for that is what the troll does when he wants to\nuse the sword.\" Halvor took the swallow, and then could swing the sword\nat once as though it were nothing at all. Now, thought he, the troll\ncould just come along any time. And sure enough, he did come along,\nroaring. Halvor placed himself behind the door. \"Hu! it smells like\nChristian blood here!\" said the troll, and poked his head in through the\ndoor. \"Yes, you shall find out it is here and at once,\" cried Halvor,\nand hewed off all his heads. The princess was filled with joy at her\ndeliverance, and danced and sang. But then she happened to think of her\nsisters, and said: \"If only my sisters could also be delivered!\" \"Where\nare they?\" asked Halvor. So she told him that one of them had been\ncarried off by a troll to a castle six miles further away, and the other\nto a castle that lay nine miles away from the other.\n\n\"But now,\" said she, \"you must first help me get this body out.\" Halvor\nwas very strong, so he quickly cleared everything out, cleaned up, and\nput all in order. Then they ate, and the following morning he started\noff at dawn. He did not rest for a moment, but wandered all day long.\nWhen he spied the castle, he once more felt a little afraid; it was\neven handsomer than the other one; but here, too, there was not a human\nbeing to be seen. Then Halvor went into the kitchen, yet did not stop at\nall, but stepped right into the next room. \"No, it cannot be possible\nthat a Christian should venture here!\" cried the princess. \"I do not\nknow how long I have been here; but during all that time I have not seen\na single Christian soul. It would probably be best if you went away\nquickly; for a troll with six heads lives here.\" \"No, I am not going,\"\nsaid Halvor, \"not even if he had six heads more.\" \"He will seize you and\nswallow you alive!\" said the princess. But that made no difference,\nHalvor would not go, and he did not fear the troll. But he would have to\neat and drink, for he was hungry and thirsty after his long tramp. He\nhad as much as he wanted; and then the princess wanted to send him away\nagain. \"No,\" cried Halvor, \"I am not going. I have done no wrong, and\nneed not fear any one.\"\n\n\"That will not worry the troll,\" said the princess. \"He will seize you\nwithout any questions asked. Yet, if you positively will not go, why,\ntry and see whether you can swing the sword that the troll uses in war.\"\nHe could not swing it; but then the princess told him to take a swallow\nfrom the bottle that hung beside it, and when he had done so he could\nswing the sword. Suddenly the troll came, and he was so large and so fat\nthat he had to move sideways in order to get through the door. When he\nhad thrust in his first head, he cried: \"Huhu! I smell the blood of a\nChristian!\" And that very moment Halvor hewed off his first head, and\nthen all the rest. The princess was pleased beyond measure; but then she\nhappened to think of her sisters, and she wished that they also might be\ndelivered. Halvor thought this might be done, and wanted to start out at\nonce. But first he had to help the princess get the dead troll out of\nthe way and then, the following morning, he set out. It was a long way\nto the castle, and he hurried and ran in order to get there in good\ntime. Toward evening he spied the castle, and it was much handsomer than\nboth the others. This time he felt hardly any fear at all; but went\nthrough the kitchen and right on in. There sat a princess who was\nextraordinarily beautiful. Like the others, she said that no Christian\nsoul had ever come to the castle since she had been there, and told him\nto go away again, as otherwise the troll would swallow him alive, for he\nhad nine heads. \"And though he had nine more, and nine on top of those,\nI will not go,\" said Halvor, and stood by the stove. The princess\nearnestly begged him to go, so that the troll would not devour him, but\nHalvor said: \"Let him come whenever he wishes!\" Then she gave him the\ntroll sword, and told him to take a swallow from the bottle, so that he\ncould swing it.\n\nSuddenly the troll came roaring along. He was even larger and more\npowerful than both the others, and he also had to squeeze himself in at\nthe door sideways. \"Hu! I smell the blood of a Christian!\" That very\nmoment Halvor hewed off his first head, and then all of the others; but\nthe last clung to life most toughly, and it cost Halvor a good deal of\ntrouble to cut it off, though he found himself so very strong.\n\nNow all the princesses met at the castle, and were happy as they never\nhad been before, in all their lives, and they fell in love with Halvor\nand he with them, and he was to choose the one whom he loved best; but\nit was the youngest who loved him the most of all. Yet Halvor acted\nstrangely, and grew quite silent and uncommunicative; so the princess\nasked him what he was longing for, and whether he did not enjoy being\nwith them. Yes, he enjoyed it very much, for they had enough to live on,\nand he was well enough off, but yet he was homesick, for his parents\nwere still living, and he would like to see them again. That could\neasily be arranged, said the princess. \"You shall go and return without\nharm, if you will follow our advice.\" Indeed, and he would surely do\nnothing against their wishes, said Halvor. Then they dressed him up\nuntil he looked as handsome as a king's son, and put a ring on his\nfinger that made it possible for the one wearing it to wish himself\naway, and back again. But he must not throw the ring away, and he must\nnot mention their names, said the princesses, otherwise its power would\nbe gone, all their joy would come to an end, and he would never see them\nagain.\n\n\"I wish I might be back at the house at home!\" said Halvor, and his\nwish was at once realized, and he was standing in front of his parents'\nhouse before he knew it. It was dusk, and when the old folk saw such a\nhandsome, well-dressed stranger coming, it embarrassed them so that it\nseemed as though their bowing and scraping would never end. Halvor now\nasked them whether they could not give him a night's lodging. \"No,\nthey really could not do so, for they were quite unprepared for it,\"\nsaid they, \"and we are lacking one thing, and another, which such a\ndistinguished gentleman would wish to have. It would be best if the\ngentleman went up to the castle, whose chimney he can see from here,\nwhere the folk are well prepared.\" \"No,\" said Halvor, \"I'll not go there\nuntil to-morrow morning. And now let me stay here overnight. I will be\ncontent to sit by the hearth.\" The old folk could make no objection\nto this, and so Halvor sat down by the hearth, and began to dig in\nthe ashes, as he used to when he was the lazybones at home. Then they\nchatted about all sorts of matters, and told Halvor about one thing and\nanother, and finally he asked them whether they had no children. Yes,\nthey had a son; but did not know whither he had wandered, or even\nwhether he were still alive, or already dead.\n\n\"Could I not be this Halvor?\" said Halvor.\n\n\"No, I am quite sure you could not,\" said the woman, starting up.\n\"Halvor was so slow and lazy, and never wanted to do anything, and\nbeside, he was so tattered that one rag got in the way of the other. He\ncould never have turned into so fine a looking gentleman as yourself.\"\n\nAfter a time the woman had to go to the hearth, and rake the fire, and\nas the firelight fell on Halvor, just as it used to when he dug in the\nashes, she recognized him.\n\n\"No, can it really be you, Halvor?\" she cried, and then the two old folk\nwere happy beyond all power of words, and Halvor had to tell all that\nhad happened to him, while his mother was so pleased with him, that she\nwanted to take him up to the castle at once, and show him to the girls\nwho had always been so proud, and had turned up their noses at her son.\nSo she went first and Halvor followed. When they came up, she told how\nHalvor had come back, and that they ought to see how fine he looked,\njust like a prince, said she. \"We can imagine that,\" said the girls, and\ntossed their heads. \"He is probably the same ragged fellow that he used\nto be.\" At that moment Halvor stepped in, and then the girls were so\nembarrassed that they ran out of the house without their caps. And when\nthey came in again, they were so ashamed that they did not venture\nto look at Halvor, whom they had always treated with such scorn and\ncontempt. \"Well, you always acted as though you were so fine and\nhandsome that no one on earth could compare with you. But you ought\nto see the oldest princess, whom I delivered,\" said Halvor. \"Compared\nto her you look like dairy-maids, and the middle princess is still\nhandsomer; while the youngest princess, who is my sweetheart, is more\nbeautiful than the sun and moon. Would to God she were here, so that you\nmight see her!\" said Halvor.\n\nNo sooner had he finished speaking than there they stood; but then he\nwas very much upset, for now he remembered what they had told him.\n\nAt the castle they gave a great feast in honor of the princesses, and\nmade a great deal of them. But they would not stay. \"We want to go to\nyour parents,\" they said to Halvor, \"and then we want to go out and look\naround.\" He went with them, and they came to a big sheet of water beyond\nthe court-yard. Close beside it was a fair green hill, and there the\nprincesses decided to sit and rest a while, \"for it was so pleasant to\nlook out over the water,\" said they. They sat down, and after they had\nrested a while, the youngest princess said: \"Let me stroke your hair a\nlittle, Halvor!\" Halvor laid his head in her lap, and she stroked his\nhair, and before very long Halvor fell asleep. Then she drew the ring\nfrom his finger, and gave him another in place of it, and said: \"All\nhold on to me--I wish we were in Soria-Moria Castle!\"\n\nWhen Halvor woke up he saw very well that he had lost the princesses,\nand began to weep and wail, and was so beside himself with despair that\nno one could comfort him. And no matter how hard his parents begged him,\nhe would not stay at home, but bade them farewell, and said that he\nwould probably never see them again, for if he did not find his\nprincesses, then it would not be worth his while to go on living.\n\nHe still had three hundred dollars, and these he put in his pocket and\nstarted out. After he had gone a while he met a man with a nice-looking\nhorse. He decided to buy it, and began to talk with the man. \"It is\ntrue I did not intend to sell the horse,\" said the man, \"but perhaps we\ncan come to an understanding.\" Halvor asked him what he wanted for it.\n\"I did not pay much for it, nor is it worth very much: it is a good\nsaddle horse, but as a draft horse it does not amount to much. Yet it\ncould carry you and your knapsack without difficulty, if you were to\nwalk a bit from time to time,\" said the man. At last they agreed on the\nprice, and Halvor slung his knapsack across the horse, and from time to\ntime he walked, and then he rode again. Toward evening he came to a\ngreen hill on which stood a large tree, beneath which he seated himself.\nHe turned the horse loose, yet did not lie down to sleep, but took out\nhis knapsack instead. When day came he wandered on again, for it seemed\nto him as though there were no place in which he could rest. He walked\nand rode all day long through a great forest, in which were many green\nclearings, that shimmered cheerfully among the trees. He did not know\nwhere he was, nor did he know whither he was going; but he allowed\nhimself no more time to rest than his horse needed to feed in one of the\ngreen clearings, and himself to eat from his knapsack. He walked and\nrode, on and on, and thought the forest would never end.\n\nBut on the evening of the following day he saw something gleaming among\nthe trees. \"If the people there are still up, I could warm myself a\nlittle, and get something to eat!\" thought Halvor. When he got there it\nwas a wretched little hut, and through the window he saw an old couple\nsitting in it, as ancient and gray-headed as doves, and the woman had so\nlong a nose that she used it at the hearth for a poker. \"Good evening!\nGood evening!\" said the old woman. \"But what are you doing here? No\nChristian soul has come this way for the past hundred years.\" Halvor\ntold her he was looking for Soria-Moria Castle, and asked whether she\nknew the way to it. \"No,\" was the woman's answer, \"I do not know, but\nhere comes the moon, I will ask him. He ought to know, for he shines on\neverything.\" And then, when the moon rose bright and clear above the\ntree-tops, the woman went out. \"You moon, you moon,\" she cried, \"can you\ntell me the way to Soria-Moria Castle?\" \"No,\" said the moon, \"I cannot\ndo that, because when I was shining there, a cloud lay in my way.\"\n\n\"Just wait a little while,\" said the old woman to Halvor. \"The West Wind\nwill be right along, and he is sure to know, for he sweeps and blows\nabout in every corner. Well, I declare, you have a horse, too!\" said the\nold woman when she came in again. \"Now don't let the poor beast stand\nby the door there and starve to death; but take it out to the pasture\ninstead. Or would you like to change with me? We have a pair of old\nboots, that carry you twelve miles further with every step. I will\ngive them to you in exchange for the horse, and then you will reach\nSoria-Moria Castle more quickly.\" Halvor at once agreed, and the old\nwoman was so pleased with the horse, that she almost started dancing\nthen and there. \"For now I can ride to church, too,\" said she.\n\nHalvor was very restless, and wanted to go right on again, but the woman\nsaid there was no need to hurry. \"Lie down on the bench by the stove,\nand take a nap, for we have no bed for you,\" said she. \"I will watch for\nthe West Wind's coming.\"\n\nAll of a sudden the West Wind came rushing along so that the walls\ncreaked. The woman ran out: \"You West Wind! You West Wind! Can you tell\nme the way to Soria-Moria Castle? There is a fellow here who wants to\nknow.\" \"Yes, indeed,\" said the West Wind, \"I have to go to that very\nplace, and dry the wash for the wedding soon to be held. If he is quick\nafoot, he may come along with me.\" Halvor ran out. \"You must hurry if\nyou are going with me,\" said the West Wind; and at once he was up and\noff over hill and dale, land and sea, so that Halvor could hardly keep\nup with him. \"Now I have no more time to keep you company,\" said the\nWest Wind, \"because I have first to tear down a stretch of pine forest,\nbefore I come to the bleaching-field and dry the wash. But if you keep\ngoing along the hills, you will meet some girls standing there and\nwashing, and then you will not be far from Soria-Moria Castle.\"\n\nAfter a time Halvor came to the girls who were washing, and they asked\nhim whether he had seen anything of the West Wind, who was to come and\ndry the clothes for the wedding. \"Yes,\" said Halvor. \"He is only\ntearing down a stretch of pine forest, and will soon be here,\" and then\nhe asked the way to Soria-Moria Castle. They showed it to him, and when\nhe reached the castle it was fairly alive with men and horses. But\nHalvor was so tattered and torn because he had followed the West Wind\nover stick and stone, and through thick and thin, that he kept to one\nside, and could not come forward until the last day of the feast. Then\nall the folk, as was the custom, had to drink the health of the bride\nand groom, and the cupbearer had to pledge all of them in turn, knights\nand serving-men. So at length they came to Halvor. Halvor drank the\nhealth, and then let the ring which the princess had put on his finger\nwhen he lay by the water fall into the glass, and told the cupbearer to\ngreet the bride, and bring her the ring. And the princess at once rose\nfrom the table. \"Who do you think has first claim to the hand of one of\nus,\" she asked, \"the man who delivered us, or the one who now sits here\nin the bridegroom's place?\" There was only one opinion as to that,\nand when Halvor heard it, he did not delay, but cast off his rags and\ndressed himself as a bridegroom. \"Yes, he is the right one!\" cried the\nyoungest princess when she caught sight of him, and she drove the other\none away, and celebrated her wedding with Halvor.\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    The \"Soria-Moria Castle\" (Asbjoernsen and Moe, N.F.E., No. 27,\n    p. 115) occurs in Ibsen's Per Gynt as a fabled fairy-palace. The\n    hero cannot hold his tongue at the right time, and as a result\n    loses the princess for whom he had so strenuously fought. The\n    recognition of Halvor by his mother by the flickering light of the\n    hearth-fire, in whose ashes Halvor was always digging when a boy,\n    is touchingly told.\n\n\n\n\nXXXVII\n\nTHE PLAYER ON THE JEW'S-HARP\n\n\nSome two or three generations ago, a three-year-old ox, belonging to\nsome people who lived in an alpine meadow in Westfjall, disappeared. And\nlook for him as they would, they could not find him, and in the fall\nthey moved down into the valley again. But while the grandmother was\nskimming the cream from the milk-pans in the lean-to the day before\ntheir departure, and the oldest maid in the hut was scooping the cheese\nout of the big kettle, a little shepherd girl came running up, and\ncalled out that the big ox was standing at the salt-lick, and licking\nthe salt. When the mother stepped out for a moment, she saw nothing that\nlooked at all like an ox. So she thought the little girl had probably\nbeen mistaken; but the little one insisted that the big ox had been\nthere.\n\n\"I saw the white spot he had on his forehead, and he had broken off one\nof his horns,\" said she. The man himself and his two sons were each out\nsearching in a different direction, and they searched and searched; but\nall three came back at evening, and none of them had found anything.\nWhen they heard the little girl's story, one of the sons flung himself\non his horse, and rode home at full gallop, in order to fetch his\ngun; loaded it with small splinters from a steel arrow, hurried back\nposthaste, and shot it off cross-wise over the salt-lick. \"If the ox is\nbewitched, he ought to appear now,\" said he. But it was of no use, the\nox was gone and he stayed gone.\n\nThe oldest son was to go up on the hill once more, and take a good look\nall around. And he searched in every direction, far and near, until he\nthought he could smell the ox; yet in spite of this, he could see no\nsign of a living being anywhere, all day long. Finally he grew angry,\nand swore that for his part, the bewitched beast might go to the end of\nthe world; if he did not want to join the rest of the herd, he could\nplease himself. With that he turned around, and went to the herdsman's\nhut as fast as he could, meaning to take home with him the bear he had\nshot.\n\nAnd there, at the fence of the herdsman's hut, stood the great ox\nlicking salt. And one of his horns had been broken off. Where he had\nbeen knocking about so long he himself probably knew, the young fellow\ndid not.\n\nBut now day was so nearly over that he could just about reach home if he\nwent as he was, and hurried as fast as he could. But if he had to lead\nand pull along the ox besides, it would have been pitch-dark before he\nhad fairly started. And let me tell you, the fall nights are really\ndark, and cold besides, and it is not wise to camp under the open sky in\nthe mountains. For this reason he decided to wait until morning, though\na night at the herdsman's hut would be bleak and lonely. So he chopped a\ngood armful of birch-boughs, laid them on the hearth, and soon the hut\ngrew warm and comfortable, and as bright as a room lit with Christmas\ncandles. When he had eaten his supper, he threw himself down on the bed\nof planks, pulled his jew's-harp out of his waistcoat pocket, and began\nto play the \"Bells of St. Thomas\" round. But he had not been playing\nlong before he fell asleep, with the instrument in his mouth. Suddenly\nhe woke again, and it seemed to him that he could hear something\nrustling softly at the other end of the hut. He turned his head\nslightly, and saw a beautiful young girl standing by the table, braiding\nher hair. It was so long that it fell down over her hips, and as lovely\nand shiny as though it had been gilded. At first the young fellow could\nnot see her face, but once, when she happened to turn in his direction,\nit seemed to him that she was the fairest and finest-looking maiden he\nhad ever laid eyes on. Her like could not have been found far or near,\nand he knew every girl in the parish, well-to-do or otherwise. The young\nfellow did not dare address her, for she thought herself alone, and\nlooked so dear and trustful that he dreaded frightening her away. So he\nlay there as still as a mouse, and did not venture to move so much as a\nfoot.\n\nSuddenly in came another girl; but she appeared to be coarser, and had a\nlarge mouth and dark complexion, not as clear and fresh as that of the\nfirst girl; and she did not please him as well. Both were dressed alike,\nin green jackets and bodices of red satin, blue stockings, and with\nbright silver buckles on their shoes. The younger maiden had white\nsleeves, that were so fresh and clean they fairly shone. Her bodice was\ncut low, and showed a handsome round clasp, which tinkled delicately\nwhenever the maiden made the slightest move. And now the young fellow\nrealized what sort of maidens these were, and could not get over his\nastonishment that there were such beautiful women among the underground\nfolk. It was Saturday evening, and this was probably the reason they\nwere dressing and adorning themselves so busily: no doubt they were\nexpecting company or suitors. The young fellow could not make out what\nthey said to each other, for they whispered so softly that he only\ncaught a word now and then. Once they spoke of a little white lamb that\nhad gone lame that day.\n\n\"Yes, it is the fault of that young fellow who has been rushing around\nin all the empty huts among the hills, looking for his fire-red ox. I\nsaw him throw a stone at the little lamb,\" said the older girl, the one\nwith the large mouth and dark skin. \"He really should be punished for\nthat!\" said she.\n\n\"Yes, but he never knew it was a lamb,\" replied the younger one, the\nbeauty with the red cheeks. \"And it was not right of grandmother to hide\nhis ox, and make him hunt for it far and near.\"\n\n\"He might have taken his ox, for it was standing just beside the hut,\nand he ran right past it,\" said the other girl.\n\n\"Yes, but you know he took it to be a rat,\" the younger one answered.\n\n\"O, how stupid those people are,\" said the older one again, and laughed\nuntil she shook. \"They pretend to be wiser than wise, and cannot even\ntell a fire-red ox from a rat! Ha, ha, ha!\" and she laughed so heartily\nthat her sister was also carried away, and the young fellow himself\ncould not help but smile a bit.\n\nAfter a time he began to play a boisterous dance-tune. And what a fright\nit gave the girls! They screamed, ran off helter-skelter in their\nterror, and were gone in a flash. But the young fellow kept on playing.\nAfter a little while one of them thrust in her head at the door, and\nwhen they saw what had frightened them so, they began to whisper and\ngiggle outside, in front of the hut. And after a time they ventured in\nagain, and began to dance to the music. And those girls could really\nswing around and use their legs. They almost flew over the uneven floor,\nand were so sure of the time that every step they took was in place.\n\nWhen they had danced a while, and the young fellow had made their\nacquaintance--or thought that he had--he unclasped his belt, and passing\nit around the handsomer of the two, drew her to him. And she allowed him\nto do so. This angered the young fellow, for he would not have believed\nthat so dainty and lovely a girl would have allowed him to act so\nfamiliarly on such short acquaintance. And as though by chance, he let\ngo one end of his belt and swish!--off she was. Her sister ran after\nher, and slammed the door behind her.\n\nNow the young fellow was angry with himself because he had been angry\nwith her. But he thought he was probably not worthy of obtaining the\nhand of so fair and loveable a maiden, for there is an old saw to the\neffect that none may escape their fate. Finally he thought that perhaps\nhe could coax her back again with his music, and he played one tune\nafter another, the most beautiful ones he knew. But the _huldra_ maidens\ndid not appear again. At last his hands and mouth grew so tired that he\nhad to stop. And then he happened to think of \"The Blue Melody,\" which a\nminstrel from his part of the country had learned in ancient times from\nthe underground folk. No sooner had he commenced it than both girls came\nsweeping in once more.\n\n\"You play beautifully, you do!\" said the younger.\n\n\"One has to play beautifully when one has such beautiful listeners,\"\nreturned the young fellow.\n\n\"Yes, that's what the cat said when she caught a mouse,\" laughed the\nmaiden.\n\n\"Come here, and I will teach you 'The Blue Melody'!\" said he. So they\ncame to him, and watched while he played. After a time the younger one\nput her hand in his waistcoat pocket.\n\n\"And what is that, is it liquorice?\" she asked, as she pulled out a roll\nof tobacco.\n\n\"Yes, try it!\" the young fellow answered. She bit off a little piece,\nbut spat it right out on the floor again.\n\n\"Yes, it is liquorice that bites,\" said she, and she wiped her tongue on\nher sleeve.\n\n\"Is it really so biting?\" asked the other one, and also wanted to try\nit. So the young fellow gave her some as well, and she had the same\nexperience. They never wanted to taste such liquorice again in their\nlives, so they assured him.\n\n\"Well, I can tell you how to get good liquorice,\" said the one. \"You\nmust boil the root of a plant called merilian, and you must pour the\nwater into juniper-berry juice, and then you will have a liquorice that\nis so sweet and good that it will even cure a toothache.\" The young\nfellow said he would try it, some time, when he had found the plant.\n\nToward evening the girls wanted to leave. Yet that drove him to despair,\nand he begged them to stay for a little while. But the girls simply\nwould not. Their mother would not allow it, said they. When the young\nfellow saw that they were really going, he went quite out of his mind.\nHe had grown so very fond of the younger _huldra_ maiden, and now he\nwas never to see her again. Without knowing what he did, he threw the\njew's-harp at her, and hit her on the head, just as she was passing\nthrough the door. And with that she came in again.\n\n\"Mother, mother! A Christian has won sister Sireld!\" cried the other,\nout in front of the hut. Soon after a very ancient woman came hobbling\nand shuffling into the hut. Her face was so wrinkled and dark that her\nyellow teeth shone out from it, for teeth she had, in spite of her age.\n\"Now you may keep her, since you have won her, for now she is no longer\nbewitched,\" said the old woman to the young fellow. \"And if you are\nkind to her, you shall never lack food or clothing, and you shall have\nall that you need, both Sundays and workdays. But if you treat her\nunkindly, you shall pay for it!\" said the old woman, and raised her cane\nas though she were about to use it on the young fellow. Then she hobbled\nout again.\n\nIt seemed to him that he had won a wife very quickly, after all, in this\nmanner, and he asked her how it all came to be.\n\n\"The jew's-harp struck my head with such force, that a drop of blood\nflowed,\" said the girl, \"and it was the best thing you could have done,\nfor I would much rather live with Christians than with the underground\nfolk,\" said she.\n\nHe still thought the world and all of her, and yet it seemed to him as\nthough he could have done nothing worse: all had happened so quickly,\nand he had nothing on which to marry; but after all, what was done was\ndone. The following morning she went home with him. His family were much\nsurprised to see him come back in such company, and were angry with\nhim, and looked for excuses to find fault with the girl: but there was\nnothing to object to about her, except that she had yellow teeth, and\nafter all, this was no such great matter. In her dealings with others\nshe was uncommonly amiable, and there was not a girl that went to church\nwho could equal her in beauty.\n\nBut after the wedding he gradually began to ill-treat her. For you must\nknow that he could never forget she was not a Christian. He sulked, and\nwas always angry and ill-natured, and never gave her a kind word. And\nhe refused to grant her least request. Though it might be the merest\ntrifle, he never had more than a short \"No\" for anything she asked. And\nin spite of this she was kind and friendly, and acted as though she did\nnot hear his angry words, and was always helpful and amiable. But it\nmade no difference, he grew worse from day to day. And they began to go\ndownhill, for strife in the home drives luck away. At last it seemed as\nthough they would have to take the beggar's bowl and staff, and wander\nfrom one farm-stead to another like any other beggars.\n\nOne day she did not know what to give the people to eat, for there was\nnot even a crust of bread in the house. And then she grew sad, for all\nmight have been different for them had he but treated her better. He was\nstanding in the smithy at the moment, about to shoe a horse, and she\nwent out to him.\n\n\"Won't you build me the pen now, the one I have so often, often asked\nyou for?\" she begged. \"Do it now, and I will shoe the horse!\" And she\ntore the red-hot horse-shoe from the anvil, and bent it in shape with\nher bare hands. When he saw that she was mistress of such arts, he grew\nfrightened, and actually built her a fine, big pen back of the stable,\nset in a post, and drove a hook into it, just as she had said. The\nfollowing morning the pen filled with fire-red cattle, big, fat,\nhandsome beasts, that gave a great deal of milk. Such fine cows had\nnever been seen anywhere. And on the hook hung a copper milk-pail, and\na pair of horns of salt, with a silver ring from which to hang them. And\nnow it was not long, as you may imagine, before they were more than\nprosperous at the farm-stead again.\n\nFor a time everything went well. He let her work and command in the\nhouse, and she had unfailing luck in all she undertook, so that wealth\nflowed in to them from every side. But at length he once more began to\nill-treat her. Wherever he went he remembered that she was no Christian,\nno matter how kind, and amiable and obedient she might be, and just like\nany one else, save that she was far, far handsomer. Once he reached down\nthe poker from the wall, and was about to beat her. She jumped up and\nbegged him insistently not to touch her: \"For else both of us will be\nunhappy!\" But he would not listen to her, and beat her about the head,\nuntil the blood ran over the poker and fell on his hand. And then she\nsuddenly disappeared from his sight. It seemed as though she had floated\nthrough the wall, or sunk into the ground. He saw nothing, but he heard\na woman sob and weep, very quietly and softly, and painfully, and with a\ndeadly sadness. After a little while all was silent--and then he heard\nno more. He searched day in, day out, here and there, hither and yon,\nand his neighbors, too, went along and helped him search; but to no\navail, for he did not find her, and could not even discover a trace of\nher. When he was in the hill pastures during the summer, and the rest\nof the folk were up there as well, and even after they had gone, he\nwould sit night after night, and play \"The Blue Melody\"; yet he never\nsaw her again, nor any of her folk.\n\nIn the summer his little girl was old enough to begin going to school.\nAnd one day she said to her father, when he came up to the hills: \"I am\nto bring you a kind greeting from mother!\"\n\n\"Ah, no, my little girl, is that really the truth? Where did you speak\nto her?\" he asked.\n\n\"She and two others came here the day that Guro fetched the sheep, and\nsince then she often comes here,\" answered the little one, \"and they\ngave me their clasps, too,\" said she, and showed him three handsome\nround clasps.\n\n\"Won't she come back home to us?\" he asked, as well you may imagine.\n\n\"She said that she really could not do that, and that she had to protect\nyou continually against folk who wanted to harm you!\" said the little\none.\n\nSadness had been his portion before this, and now it did not grow any\nless. And it was a blessing that before many years had passed the earth\nclosed over him.\n\n\n    NOTE\n\n    Touching in its simplicity, and characteristically local is this\n    final fairy-tale of \"The Player on the Jew's-Harp\" (Bergh, p. 38).\n    In its cheerful beginning, and toward its sad close sounds the\n    magic music of \"The Blue Melody,\" which some one caught from the\n    underground folk in ancient times. From primal days folk-lore\n    has glorified the irresistible power of music as magic of\n    supernatural origin. Horand in the \"Hegeling Saga\" is credited\n    with having learned this melody on the wild wave, from a\n    water-spirit; and the legend that his compelling art was a gift of\n    the underground folk was even current of the Norwegian fiddler Ole\n    Bull (1880).\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's notes\n\nThe illustrations have been moved slightly for reader convenience. A\nfew obvious printer's errors have been corrected. Otherwise the original\ntext has been preserved, including inconsistent spelling and\nhyphenation.","title":"The Norwegian Fairy Book","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":81218}