{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_40359/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_40359","id":"gutenberg_40359","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/40359","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Fairy tales"],"text":"FAIRY RING\n\n KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN\n NORA ARCHIBALD SMITH\n\n\n\n\n_The Fairy Ring_\n\n\n\n\nTHE CHILDREN'S CRIMSON CLASSICS\n\n\nEDITED BY KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN AND NORA ARCHIBALD SMITH\n\n GOLDEN NUMBERS\n A Book of Verse for Youth\n\n THE POSY RING\n A Book of Verse for Children\n\n PINAFORE PALACE\n A Book of Rhymes for Children\n\n _Library of Fairy Literature_\n\n THE FAIRY RING\n\n MAGIC CASEMENTS\n A Second Fairy Book\n\n TALES OF LAUGHTER\n A Third Fairy Book\n\n TALES OF WONDER\n A Fourth Fairy Book\n\n THE TALKING BEASTS\n Fables from Every Land\n\n _OTHER VOLUMES TO FOLLOW_\n\n[Illustration: LITTLE BROTHER AND SISTER]\n\n\n\n\n\nCRIMSON CLASSICS\n\nTHE FAIRY RING\n\nEDITED BY KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN and NORA ARCHIBALD SMITH\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n ILLUSTRATED BY ELIZABETH MACKINSTRY\n\n\n DOUBLEDAY, DORAN & COMPANY, INC.\n GARDEN CITY 1934 NEW YORK\n\n\n\n\n _Copyright, 1906, by_\n MCCLURE, PHILLIPS & CO.\n\n COPYRIGHT, 1910, BY\n DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY\n\n PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES\n AT\n THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS, GARDEN CITY, N. Y.\n\n\n\n\n_Messrs. McClure, Phillips & Company wish to make acknowledgment of\ntheir indebtedness to the following publishers:_\n\n_Little, Brown & Company, for permission to use \"Blanche and Vermilion\"\nand \"Prince Desire and Princess Mignonette\" from Old-Fashioned Fairy\nTales;_\n\n_A. Wessells Company, for permission to use the story of \"The Clever\nPrince\" from Fairy Tales from Afar;_\n\n_American Book Company, for permission to use \"Drakesbill and His\nFriends\" from Fairy Tales and Fables;_\n\n_University Publishing Company, for permission to use \"The Troll's\nHammer\" from Fairy Life;_\n\n_Harper & Brothers, for permission to use \"The Fair One with Golden\nLocks,\" \"The White Cat,\" \"Prince Cherry,\" and \"The Frog Prince\" from\nMiss Mulock's Fairy Book, and \"Yvon and Finette,\" \"The Twelve Months,\"\nand \"The Story of Coquerico\" from Laboulaye's Fairy Tales of all\nNations;_\n\n_G. P. Putnam's Sons, for permission to use \"History of Tom Thumb\" and\n\"Tattercoats\" from Joseph Jacobs's English Fairy Tales; \"Munachar and\nManachar\" from Joseph Jacobs's Celtic Fairy Tales; and \"Master Tobacco,\"\n\"Mother Roundabout's Daughter,\" and \"The Sheep and the Pig\" from\nDasent's Tales from the Field;_\n\n_F. A. Stokes Company, for permission to use \"Lars, My Lad,\" and\n\"Twigmuntus and Cowbelliantus\" from Fairy Tales from the Swedish;_\n\n_Longmans, Green & Company, for permission to use the following\nstories: \"The Yellow Dwarf,\" \"The Many-Furred Creature,\" \"Spindle,\nShuttle, and Needle,\" \"Princess and the Glass Hill,\" \"The Golden Crab,\"\n\"The Magic Ring,\" \"Snow-white and Rose-red,\" \"Graciosa and Percinet,\"\n\"The Iron Stove,\" \"The Good Little Mouse,\" and \"The Three Feathers\" from\nthe Andrew Lang Fairy Books._\n\n_We also wish to express our thanks to Mr. Seumas MacManus, for\npermission to use \"The Bee, the Harp, and the Bum-Clock,\" \"The Long\nLeather Bag,\" and \"The Widow's Daughter\" from his books, Donegal Fairy\nTales and In Chimney Corners, published by us._\n\n\n\n\n_CONTENTS_\n\n\n SCANDINAVIAN\n PAGE\n EAST O' THE SUN AND WEST O' THE MOON 3\n THE GOLDEN LANTERN, GOLDEN GOAT, AND GOLDEN CLOAK 13\n MOTHER ROUNDABOUT'S DAUGHTER 21\n THE BEAR AND SKRATTEL 28\n THE GOLDEN BIRD 37\n THE DOLL IN THE GRASS 45\n THE PRINCESS ON THE GLASS HILL 47\n THE RAM AND THE PIG WHO WENT INTO THE WOODS\n TO LIVE BY THEMSELVES 56\n THE TROLL'S HAMMER 60\n THE CLEVER PRINCE 65\n \"LARS, MY LAD!\" 70\n TWIGMUNTUS, COWBELLIANTUS, PERCHNOSIUS 85\n\n ENGLISH\n MASTER TOBACCO 89\n THE HISTORY OF TOM THUMB 95\n TATTERCOATS 101\n HISTORY OF JACK THE GIANT-KILLER 104\n\n FRENCH\n YVON AND FINETTE 109\n THE FAIR ONE WITH GOLDEN LOCKS 138\n THE LITTLE GOOD MOUSE 148\n THE STORY OF BLANCHE AND VERMILION 161\n PRINCE DESIRE AND PRINCESS MIGNONETTA 165\n THE YELLOW DWARF 171\n GRACIOSA AND PERCINET 179\n DRAK, THE FAIRY 197\n DRAKESBILL AND HIS FRIENDS 202\n RIQUET WITH THE TUFT 209\n THE WHITE CAT 216\n PRINCE CHERRY 229\n THE TWELVE MONTHS 264\n\n SPANISH\n THE STORY OF COQUERICO 254\n THE BIRD-CAGE MAKER 259\n\n GAELIC\n THE BEE, THE HARP, THE MOUSE, AND THE BUM-CLOCK 271\n THE LONG LEATHER BAG 279\n THE WIDOW'S DAUGHTER 288\n MUNACHAR AND MANACHAR 292\n\n GERMAN\n THE WILD SWANS 238\n THE ROAD TO FORTUNE 295\n THE GOLDEN CRAB 301\n THE TABLE, THE ASS, AND THE STICK 307\n THE LITTLE BROTHER AND SISTER 318\n THE OLD GRIFFIN 324\n THE THREE FEATHERS 330\n THE HOUSE IN THE WOOD 334\n RAPUNZEL 339\n THE QUEEN BEE 343\n THE MANY-FURRED CREATURE 345\n SNOW-WHITE AND ROSE-RED 350\n THE FROG PRINCE 357\n THE GOOSE GIRL 361\n BRIAR ROSE 367\n THE IRON STOVE 370\n RUMPEL-STILTS-KEN 376\n FAITHFUL JOHN, THE KING'S SERVANT 379\n SPINDLE, SHUTTLE, AND NEEDLE 386\n\n RUSSIAN\n THE MAGIC EGG 390\n THE SPARROW AND THE BUSH 402\n THE IRON WOLF 404\n\n EAST INDIAN\n THE GRATEFUL COBRA 408\n THE MAGIC RING 413\n TIT FOR TAT 426\n THE BRAHMAN, THE TIGER, AND THE SIX JUDGES 427\n MUCHIE LAL 431\n THE VALIANT CHATTEEMAKER 439\n\n\n\n_ILLUSTRATIONS_\n\n\n LITTLE BROTHER AND SISTER _Frontispiece_\n FACING\n PAGE\n THE LASSIE RIDING OVER THE SEA ON THE BACK OF\n THE NORTH WIND 10\n THE TROLL'S HUT, THE LANTERN, AND THE GOAT WITH\n THE GOLDEN HORNS 14\n \"SHE SAID SHE WOULD SIT AND DRIVE IN A SILVER\n SPOON\" 46\n JUST AS CINDERLAD TURNED HIS HORSE AROUND, THE\n PRINCESS THREW THE GOLDEN APPLE 52\n \"AND WHEN HE SET HER DOWN HE GAVE HER A KISS\" 90\n TATTERCOATS FORGOT ALL HER TROUBLES AND FELL TO\n DANCING 102\n \"THE GIANT AND THE CONJURER NOW KNEW THAT THEIR\n WICKED COURSE WAS AT AN END\" 108\n \"HE FLUNG HUGE MASSES OF ROCK AFTER THE VESSEL\" 122\n \"SHE WORE THEM ALWAYS...LOOSE AND FLOWING\" 138\n \"I FEEL AS IF I WERE THE DAUGHTER OF SOME GREAT\n KING\" 158\n \"HE WAS A WEEK TRYING TO TREAD ON THIS FATAL TAIL\" 166\n THE MERMAID TAKING THE KING OF THE GOLDEN MINES TO\n THE STEEL CASTLE 178\n \"MICHEAL, PETRIFIED, STOOD MUTE, . . . CONTEMPLATING\n WITH A FRIGHTENED AIR THIS INCONGRUOUS DANCE\" 200\n \"ELIZA WENT, AND THE KING AND THE ARCHBISHOP FOLLOWED\n HER\" 252\n \"MARCH ROSE IN TURN, AND STIRRED THE FIRE WITH THE\n STAFF, WHEN BEHOLD! . . . IT WAS SPRING\" 266\n \"AN UGLY OLD WOMAN WITH THE MOST MONSTROUS NOSE EVER\n BEHELD\" 292\n \"IN THIS WAY THE FISHERMAN CARRIED HIM TO THE CASTLE\" 304\n \"IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, WHEN GRIFFIN WAS SNORING\n AWAY LUSTILY, JACK REACHED UP AND PULLED A\n FEATHER OUT OF HIS TAIL\" 328\n \"THEN DUMMLING'S LOVELY MAIDEN SPRANG LIGHTLY AND\n GRACEFULLY THROUGH THE RING\" 332\n \"\"WHAT ARE YOU STANDING THERE GAPING FOR?\" SCREAMED\n THE DWARF\" 356\n \"FALADA, FALADA, THERE THOU HANGEST!\" 364\n \"AT LAST HE REACHED THE TOWER . . . WHERE BRIER ROSE\n WAS ASLEEP\" 370\n \"JUST AS IT HAD COME TO THE END OF THE GOLDEN THREAD\n IT REACHED THE KING'S SON\" 388\n \"THE RANEE SAID, 'THIS IS A DEAR LITTLE GIRL'\" 434\n\n\n Throned on a grassy knoll, I watch\n The elfin host come trooping by,\n And hear the whir of fairy wings,\n The goblin voices, shrill and high.\n Behind them glides a magic train\n Of Kings and Princes, armor-clad,\n And serving as their squires bold\n Boots, Ashiepattle, Cinderlad.\n With silken rustle, flash of gem,\n Queen and Czaritsa sweep along,\n While red-capped Troll and rainbow Sprite\n Peep out amid the enchanted throng.\n\n _Ting-ling, ting-ling, how sweet the ring,\n Like golden bells, of fairy laughter;\n Rap-tap, rap-tap, how sharp the clap\n Of fairy footfalls following after!_\n\n Where witch-grass grows and fern-seed lies,\n A Fairy Ring is dimly seen;\n And there a glitt'ring host is met\n To dance upon the moonlit green.\n Riquet, the Tufted, lightly turns\n The Fair One with the Golden Hair;\n And Prince Desire and Mignonette\n Form yet another graceful pair.\n Tall as a tower stands Galifron;\n The Desert Fay, with snakes bedight,\n First pirouettes with him and then\n With wee Tom Thumb, King Arthur's Knight.\n\n _Ting-ling, ting-ling, how sweet the ring,\n Like golden bells, of fairy laughter;\n Rap-tap, rap-tap, how sharp the clap\n Of fairy footfalls following after!_\n\n Sweet, unseen harpers harp and sing,\n Faint elfin horns the air repeat;\n Rapunzel shakes her shining braids,\n The White Cat trips with velvet feet.\n Rose-red, Snow-white, the faithful Bear,\n Cross hands with gallant Percinet;\n While Tattercoats, in turn, salutes\n Yvon, the Fearless, and Finette.\n --But hark! the cock begins to crow;\n The darkness turns to day, and, look!\n The fairy dancers whirl within\n The crimson covers of this book!\n NORA ARCHIBALD SMITH\n\n\n\n\n_INTRODUCTION_\n\n\n_\"THERE was once upon a time a king who had a garden; in that garden was\nan apple tree, and on that apple tree grew a golden apple every year.\"_\n\n_These stories are the golden apples that grew on the tree in the king's\ngarden; grew and grew and grew as the golden years went by; and being\napples of gold they could never wither nor shrink nor change, so that\nthey are as beautiful and precious for you to pluck to-day as when first\nthey ripened long, long ago._\n\n_Perhaps you do not care for the sort of golden apples that grew in the\nking's garden; perhaps you prefer plain russets or green pippins? Well,\nthese are not to be despised, for they also are wholesome food for\ngrowing boys and girls; but unless you can taste the flavor and feel the\nmagic that lies in the golden apples of the king's garden you will lose\none of the joys of youth._\n\n_No one can help respecting apples (or stories) that gleam as brightly\nto-day as they did hundreds and thousands of years ago, when first the\ntiny blossoms ripened into precious fruit._\n\n _\"Should you ask me whence these stories,\n Whence these legends and traditions\n With the odors of the forest,\n With the dew and damp of meadows?\"--_\n\n_I can say only that the people were telling fairy tales in Egypt, in\nJoseph's time, more than three thousand years ago; and that grand old\nHomer told them in the famous \"Odyssey,\" with its witches and giants,\nits cap of darkness, and shoes of swiftness. Old nurses and village\ncrones have repeated them by the fireside and in the chimney corner;\nshepherds and cowherds have recounted them by the brookside, until the\nchildren of the world have all learned them by heart, bequeathing them,\ngeneration after generation, as a priceless legacy to their own\nchildren. Nor must you fancy that they have been told in your own tongue\nonly. Long, long before the art of printing was known, men and women of\nall nations recited these and similar tales to one another, never\nthinking that the day would come when they would be regarded as the\npeculiar property of youth and childhood. There is not a country in\nEurope, Asia, Africa, Australia, or the islands of the sea where fairy\nstories of one sort or another have not been current since the dawn of\nspeech; and to make this Fairy Ring of sixty-odd tales the editors have\nread and sifted as many hundreds. You will miss Cinderella, Red Riding\nHood, Jack and the Beanstalk, Toads and Diamonds, Puss in Boots,\nBluebeard, Beauty and the Beast, and other favorites, but these have\nbeen omitted because they can be easily found in half a dozen volumes\nalready on your shelves, and we preferred to give you in their stead\nstories less well known and hackneyed._\n\n_The so-called Household Tales, such as Drakesbill, The Little Good\nMouse, and The Grateful Cobra go back to the times when men thought of\nanimals as their friends and brothers, and in the fireside stories of\nthat period the central figures were often wise and powerful beasts,\nbeasts that had language, assumed human form, and protected as well as\nserved mankind. Frogs, fishes, birds, wolves, cobras, cats, one and all\nwin our sympathy, admiration, and respect as we read of their deeds of\nprowess, their sagacious counsel, their superhuman power of overcoming\nobstacles and rescuing from danger or death the golden-haired princess,\nthe unhappy queen mother, or the intrepid but unfortunate prince._\n\n_The giants and ogres and witches in the fairy stories need not greatly\naffright even the youngest readers. For the most part they overreach\nthemselves in ill-doing and are quite at the mercy (as they properly\nshould be) of the brave and virtuous knight or the clever little\nprincess._\n\n_If you chance to be an elder brother or sister it may surprise and\ndistress you to find that all the grace, courage, wit, and beauty, as\nwell as most of the good fortune, are vested in the youngest member of\nthe household. The fairy-tale family has customs of its own when it\ncomes to the distribution of vices and virtues, and the elder sons and\ndaughters are likely to be haughty, selfish, and cruel, while the\nyounger ones are as enchantingly beautiful as they are marvelously\namiable. The malevolent stepmother still further complicates the\ndomestic situation, and she is so wicked and malicious that if it were\nnot for the dear and delightful one in your own household, or the\nequally lovable one next door, you might think stepmothers worse than\nogres or witches. I cannot account for this prejudice, except that\nperhaps the ideal of mother love and mother goodness has always been so\nhigh in the world that the slightest deviation from it has been held up\nto scorn. As for the superhuman youngest son and daughter, perhaps they\nare used only to show us that the least and humblest things and persons\nare capable of becoming the mightiest and most powerful._\n\n_Wiseacres (and people who have no love for golden apples) say that in\nmany of these tales \"The greater the rogue the better his fortune\"; but\nthe Grimm brothers, most famous and most faithful of fairy-tale\ncollectors, reply that the right user of these narratives \"will find no\nevil therein, but, as an old proverb has it, merely a witness of his own\nheart. Children point at the stars without fear, while others, as the\npopular superstition goes, thereby offend the angels.\"_\n\n_The moment you have plucked a golden apple from the magic tree in the\nking's garden (which phrase, being interpreted, means whenever you begin\none of the tales in this book) you will say farewell to time and space\nas readily as if you had put on a wishing cap, or a pair of seven league\nboots, or had blown an elfin pipe to call the fairy host. It matters not\nwhen anything happened. It is \"Once upon a time,\" or \"A long time ago.\"\nAs to just where, that is quite as uncertain and unimportant, for we all\nfeel familiar with the fairy-tale landscape, which has delightful\nfeatures all its own, and easily recognizable. The house is always in\nthe heart of a deep, deep wood like the one \"amidst the forest darkly\ngreen\" where Snowwhite lived with the dwarfs. You know the Well at the\nWorld's End whence arose the Frog Prince; the Glass Mountain that\nCinderlad climbed, first in his copper, then in his silver, then in his\ngolden armor; the enchanted castle where the White Cat dwelt; the sea\nover which Faithful John sailed with the Princess of the Golden Roof._\n\n_In the story of The Spindle, the Shuttle, and the Needle, the prince\nhas just galloped past the cottage in the wood where the maiden is\nturning her wheel, when the spindle leaps out of her hand to follow him\non his way--leaps and dances and pursues him along the woodland path,\nthe golden thread dragging behind. Then the prince turns (fairy princes\nalways turn at the right time), sees the magic spindle, and, led by the\nshimmering thread, finds his way back to the lovely princess, the\nsweetest, loveliest, thriftiest, most bewitching little princess in the\nwhole world, and a princess he might never have found had it not been\nfor the kind offices of the spindle, shuttle, and needle._\n\n_This book is the magic spindle; the stories that were golden apples\nhave melted into a golden thread, a train of bright images that will\nlead you into a radiant country where no one ever grows old; where, when\nthe prince finds and loves the princess, he marries her and they are\nhappy ever after; where the obstacles of life melt under the touch of\ncomprehending kindness; where menacing clouds of misfortune are blown\naway by gay good will; and where wicked little trolls are invariably\ndefeated by wise simpletons._\n\n_We feel that we can do anything when we journey in this enchanting\ncountry. Come, then, let us mount and be off; we can ride fast and far,\nfor imagination is the gayest and fleetest of steeds. Let us climb the\ngilded linden tree and capture the Golden Bird. Let us plunge into the\nheart of the Briar Wood where the Rose o' the World lies sleeping. Let\nus break the spell that holds all her court in drowsy slumber, and\nthen, coming out into the sunshine, mount and ride again into the\nforest. As we pass the Fairy Tree on the edge of the glade we will pluck\na Merry Leaf, for this, when tucked away in belt or pouch, will give us\na glad heart and a laughing eye all the day long. We shall meet ogres,\nno doubt, and the more the merrier, for, like Finette, we have but to\ncry \"Abracadabra!\" to defeat not ogres only, but wicked bailiffs,\nstewards, seneschals, witch hags, and even the impossibly vicious\nstepmother! Cormoran and Blunderbore will quail before us, for our magic\nweapons, like those of Cornish Jack, will be all-powerful. Then, flushed\nwith triumph we will mount the back of the North Wind and search for the\ncastle that lies East o' the Sun and West o' the Moon. Daylight will\nfade, the stars come out, the fire burn low on the hearth, playmates'\nvoices sound unheeded. We shall still sit in the corner of the window\nseat with the red-covered volume on our knees; for hours ago the magic\nspindle wrought its spell, and we have been following the golden thread\nthat leads from this work-a-day world into fairyland._\n\n _KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN_\n\n\n\n\n_East o' the Sun and West o' the Moon_\n\n\nONCE on a time there was a poor husbandman who had so many children that\nhe hadn't much of either food or clothing to give them. Pretty children\nthey all were, but the prettiest was the youngest daughter, who was so\nlovely that there was no end to all her loveliness.\n\nSo one day--'twas on a Thursday evening, late at the fall of the year,\nthe weather was so wild and rough outside, and it was so cruelly dark,\nand rain fell and wind blew till the walls of the cottage shook\nagain--there they all sat round the fire, busy with this thing and that.\nBut just then, all at once, something gave three taps on the windowpane.\nThen the father went out to see what was the matter, and when he got out\nof doors, what should he see but a great big white bear!\n\n\"Good evening to you,\" said the White Bear.\n\n\"The same to you,\" said the man.\n\n\"Will you give me your youngest daughter? If you will, I'll make you as\nrich as you are now poor,\" said the Bear.\n\nWell, the man would not be at all sorry to be rich, but still he thought\nhe must have a bit of a talk with his daughter first, so he went in and\ntold them how there was a great white bear waiting outside, who had\ngiven his word to make them rich if he could only have the youngest\ndaughter.\n\nThe lassie said \"No\" outright. Nothing could get her to say anything\nelse. So the man went out and settled it with the White Bear that he\nshould come again the next Thursday evening and get an answer.\n\nMeantime, he talked his daughter over, and kept on telling her of all\nthe riches they would get, and how well off she would be herself; and\nso at last she thought better of it, and washed and mended her rags,\nmade herself as smart as she could, and was ready to start.\n\nNext Thursday evening came the White Bear to fetch her, and she got upon\nhis back with her bundle, and off they went.\n\nSo, when they had gone a bit of the way, the White Bear said:\n\n\"Are you afraid?\"\n\nNo, she wasn't.\n\n\"Well, mind and hold tight to my shaggy coat, and then there's nothing\nto fear,\" said the White Bear.\n\nSo she rode a long, long way, until they came to a very steep hill.\nThere, on the face of it, the White Bear gave a knock, and a door\nopened, and they came into a castle where there were many rooms, all lit\nup, rooms gleaming with silver and gold, and there, too, was a table\nready laid, and it was all as grand as grand could be.\n\nThen the White Bear gave her a silver bell, and when she wanted anything\nshe had only to ring it and she would get it at once.\n\nWell, after she had eaten and drunk, and evening wore on, she got sleepy\nafter her journey, and thought she would like to go to bed. So she rang\nthe bell, and she had scarce taken hold of it before she came into a\nchamber where there was a bed made, as fair and white as anyone could\nwish to sleep in, with silken pillows and curtains and gold fringe.\n\nShe slept quite soundly until morning; then she found her breakfast\nwaiting in a pretty room. When she had eaten it, the girl made up her\nmind to take a walk around, in order to find out if there were any other\npeople there besides herself.\n\nBut she saw nobody but an old woman, whom she took to be a witch, and as\nthe dame beckoned to her, the girl went at once.\n\n\"Little girl,\" said the Witch, \"if you'll promise not to say a word to\nanybody, I'll tell you the secret about this place.\"\n\nOf course, the girl promised at once, so the old dame said:\n\n\"In this house there lives a White Bear, but you must know that he is\nonly a White Bear in the daytime. Every night he throws off his beast\nshape and becomes a man, for he is under the spell of a wicked fairy.\nNow, be sure and not mention this to anybody, or misfortune will come,\"\nand with these words she disappeared.\n\nSo things went on happily for some time, but at last the girl began to\ngrow sad and sorrowful, for she went about all day alone, and she longed\nto go home to see her father and mother and brothers and sisters.\n\n\"Well, well,\" said the Bear, \"perhaps there's a cure for all this\nsorrow. But you must promise me one thing. When you go home, you mustn't\ntalk about me, except when they are all present, or, if you do, you will\nbring bad luck to both of us.\"\n\nSo one Sunday the White Bear came and said now they would set off to see\nher father and mother.\n\nWell, off they started, she sitting on his back, and they went far and\nlong. At last they came to a grand house, and there her brothers and\nsisters were running about out of doors at play, and everything was so\npretty 'twas a joy to see.\n\n\"This is where your father and mother live now,\" said the White Bear;\n\"but don't forget what I told you, or you'll make us both unlucky.\"\n\nNo--bless her!--she'd not forget, and when they reached the house the\nWhite Bear turned right about and left her.\n\nThen, when she went in to see her father and mother, there was such joy\nthere was no end to it. None of them could thank her enough for all the\ngood fortune she had brought them.\n\nThey had everything they wished, as fine as could be, and they all\nwanted to know how she got on and where she lived.\n\nWell, she said it was very good to live where she did, and she had all\nshe wished. What she said besides I don't know, but I don't believe any\nof them had the right end of the stick, or that they got much out of\nher.\n\nBut after dinner her sister called her outside the room, and asked all\nmanner of questions about the White Bear--whether he was cross, and\nwhether she ever set eyes on him, and such like--and the end of it all\nwas that she told her sister the story of how the White Bear was under a\nspell.\n\nBut the other girl wouldn't listen to the story, for she said it\ncouldn't be true, and this made the youngest daughter very angry.\n\nIn the evening the White Bear came and fetched her away, and when they\nhad gone a bit of the way he asked her whether she had done as he had\ntold her and refused to speak about him.\n\nThen she confessed that she had spoken a few words to her sister about\nhim, and the Bear was very angry, for he said she would surely bring bad\nluck to them both.\n\nWhen they reached home, she remembered how her sister had refused to\nbelieve the story about the White Bear, so in the night, when she knew\nthat the Bear was fast asleep, she stole out of bed, lighted her candle,\nand crept into his room. Yes, there he lay fast asleep, but instead of\nbeing a White Bear, he was the handsomest Prince you ever saw. She gave\nsuch a start that she dropped three spots of hot tallow from the candle\non to his pillow, so she ran off in a great fright.\n\nNext morning the White Bear said to her: \"I fear you have found out my\nsecret, for I saw the drops of tallow on my pillow this morning, and now\nI know that you spoke to your sister about me. If you had only kept\nquiet for a whole year, then I should have become a man for always, and\nI should have made you my wife at once. But now all ties are snapped\nbetween us, and I must go away to a big castle which stands East o' the\nsun and West o' the moon, and there, too, lives a Princess with a nose\nthree ells long, and she's the wife I must have now.\"\n\nThe girl wept, and took it ill, but there was no help for it, go he\nmust.\n\nThen she asked if she mightn't go with him.\n\nNo! she mightn't.\n\n\"Tell me the way, then,\" she said, \"and I'll search you out; that,\nsurely, I may get leave to do.\"\n\nYes; she might do that, but there was no way to the place. It lay East\no' the sun and West o' the moon, and thither she'd never find her way.\n\nSo next morning, when she woke, both Prince and castle were gone, and\nthere she lay on a little green patch, in the midst of the thick, gloomy\nwood, and by her side lay the same bundle of rags that she had brought\nwith her from her old home.\n\nSo when she had rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and wept till she was\ntired, she set out on her way and walked many, many days, till she came\nto a lofty crag. Under it sat an old hag, who played with a golden\napple, which she tossed about. The lassie asked her if she knew the way\nto the Prince who lived in the castle that lay East o' the sun and West\no' the moon, and who was to marry a Princess with a nose three ells\nlong.\n\n\"How did you come to know about him?\" said the old hag; \"but maybe you\nare the lassie who ought to have had him?\"\n\nYes, she was.\n\n\"So, so, it's you, is it?\" said the old hag. \"Well, all I know about him\nis that he lives in the castle that lies East o' the sun and West o' the\nmoon, and thither you'll come, late or never; but still you may have the\nloan of my horse, and on him you can ride to my next neighbor. Maybe\nshe'll be able to tell you what you want to know; and when you get\nthere, just give the horse a switch under the left ear, and beg him to\nbe off home; and stay, you may take this golden apple with you.\"\n\nSo she got upon the horse and rode a long, long time, till she came to\nanother crag, under which sat another old hag, with a golden\ncarding-comb in her hand. The lassie asked her if she knew the way to\nthe castle that lay East o' the sun and West o' the moon, and she\nanswered, like the first old hag, that she knew nothing about it, except\nthat it was East o' the sun and West o' the moon.\n\n\"And thither you'll come, late or never; but you shall have the loan of\nmy horse to go to my next neighbor; maybe she'll tell you all about it;\nand when you get there, just switch the horse under the left ear and beg\nhim to be off home.\"\n\nAnd this old hag gave her the golden carding-comb; it might be she'd\nfind some use for it, she said. So the lassie got up on the horse and\nrode far, far away, and had a weary time; and so at last she came to\nanother great crag, under which sat another old hag, spinning with a\ngolden spinning wheel. The lassie asked her, too, if she knew the way to\nthe Prince and where the castle was that lay East o' the sun and West o'\nthe moon. So it was the same thing over again.\n\n\"Maybe it's you who ought to have had the Prince?\" said the old hag.\n\nYes, it was.\n\nBut, she, too, didn't know the way a bit better than the other two. East\no' the sun and West o' the moon she knew it was; that was all.\n\n\"And thither you'll come, late or never; but I'll lend you my horse, and\nthen I think you'd best ride to the East Wind and ask him; maybe he\nknows those parts and can blow you thither. But when you get to him, you\nneed only give the horse a switch under the left ear, and he'll trot\nhome of himself.\"\n\nAnd so, too, she gave the lassie the golden spinning wheel.\n\n\"Maybe you'll find a use for it,\" said the old hag.\n\nThen on she rode a great many weary days before she got to the East\nWind's house; but at last she did reach it, and then she asked the East\nWind if he could tell her the way to the Prince who dwelt East o' the\nsun and West o' the moon. Yes, the East Wind had often heard about them,\nboth the Prince and the castle, but he couldn't tell her the way, for\nhe'd never blown so far.\n\n\"But, if you will, I'll go with you to my brother, the West Wind; maybe\nhe's been there, for he's much stronger. So, if you will just jump on my\nback, I'll carry you thither.\"\n\nYes, she got on his back, and I should just think they went swiftly\nalong.\n\nSo, when they reached there, they went into the West Wind's house, and\nthe East Wind said the lassie he had brought was the one that ought to\nhave married the Prince who lived in the castle East o' the sun and West\no' the moon, and that she had set out to seek him. He then said how he\nhad come with her, and would be glad to know if the West Wind knew how\nto get to the castle.\n\n\"Nay,\" said the West Wind, \"for I've never blown so far; but, if you\nwill, I'll go with you to our brother, the South Wind, for he's much\nstronger than either of us, and he has flapped his wings both far and\nwide. Maybe he'll tell you; so you can get on my back and I'll carry you\nto him.\"\n\nYes, she got on his back, and so they traveled to the South Wind, and\nthey weren't so very long on the way, I should think.\n\nWhen they reached there, the West Wind asked him if he could tell them\nthe way to the castle that lay East o' the sun and West o' the moon, for\nthis was the lassie who ought to have married the Prince who lived\nthere.\n\n\"You don't say so! That's she, is it?\" said the South Wind. \"Well, I've\nblustered about in most places in my time, but so far I have never\nblown; but, if you will, I'll take you to my brother, the North Wind; he\nis the oldest and strongest of all of us. If he doesn't know where to\nfind the place, you will never find anybody to tell you where it is. You\ncan get on my back and I'll carry you thither.\"\n\nYes, she got on his back, and away he went from his house at a very high\nrate, and this time, too, she wasn't long on her way.\n\nWhen they got to the North Wind's house, he was so wild and cross that\nthe puffs came from quite a long way off.\n\n\"WHAT DO YOU WANT?\" he roared out to them, in such a voice that it made\nthem both shiver.\n\n\"Well,\" said the South Wind, \"you needn't talk like that, for here I am,\nyour brother, the South Wind, and here is the lassie who ought to have\nhad the Prince who dwells at the castle that lies East o' the sun and\nWest o' the moon, and now she wants to know if you were ever there, and\ncan tell her the way, for she would be so glad to find it again.\"\n\n[Illustration: THE LASSIE RIDING OVER THE SEA ON THE BACK OF THE NORTH\nWIND]\n\n\"YES! I KNOW WELL ENOUGH WHERE IT IS,\" said the North Wind. \"Once in my\nlife I blew an aspen leaf there, but I was so tired that I couldn't blow\nanother puff for days after. But if you really wish to go there, and\naren't afraid to trust yourself to me, I'll take you on my back and blow\nyou thither.\"\n\nYes! with all her heart. She must and would get thither, if it were\npossible in any way; and as for fear, however madly he went, she\nwouldn't be at all afraid.\n\n\"Very well, then,\" said the North Wind. \"But you must sleep here\nto-night, for we must have the whole day before us if we are to get\nthither at all.\"\n\nEarly next morning the North Wind woke her, and puffed himself up, and\nblew himself out, and made himself so stout and big 'twas fearful to\nlook at him; so off they went, up through the air, as if they would\nnever stop till they came to the world's end.\n\nDown below there was such a storm, it threw down long tracts of wood and\nmany houses, and when it swept over the great sea, ships foundered by\nhundreds.\n\nSo they tore on and on--nobody can believe how far they went--and all\nthe while they still went over the sea, and the North Wind got more and\nmore weary, and so out of breath he could scarce get out a puff. His\nwings drooped and drooped, till at last he sank so low that the crests\nof the waves dashed over his heels.\n\n\"Are you afraid?\" asked the North Wind.\n\nNo, she wasn't.\n\nBut they weren't very far from land, and the North Wind had still so\nmuch strength in him that he managed to throw her upon the shore under\nthe windows of the castle which lay East o' the sun and West o' the\nmoon; but then he was so weak and worn out that he had to stay there and\nrest for many days before he was fit to return home.\n\nNext morning the lassie sat down under the castle window and began to\nplay with the golden apple; and the first person she saw was Long-nose,\nwho was to marry the Prince.\n\n\"What do you want for your golden apple, lassie?\" said Long-nose; and\nshe threw up the window.\n\n\"It's not for sale, for gold or money,\" said the lassie.\n\n\"If it's not for sale for gold or money, what is it that you will sell\nit for?\" said the Princess. \"You may name your own price for it.\"\n\n\"Well, if you will let me speak a few words alone with the Prince who\nlives in the castle, I will give you the apple,\" she answered.\n\nYes, she might; that could be done. So the Princess got the golden\napple, and the lassie was shown into the Prince's room. But when she got\ninside she found that the Prince was fast asleep, and although she shook\nhim and called him loudly, it was no use, for she couldn't wake him, so\nshe had to go away again.\n\nNext day she sat down under the castle window again, and began to card\nwith her golden carding-comb; and the same thing happened. The Princess\nasked what she wanted for it; and she said it wasn't for sale for either\ngold or money, but that if she might have a few words alone with the\nPrince, the Princess should have the comb.\n\nSo she was taken up to the Prince's room, and again she found him fast\nasleep; and although she wept and shook him for quite a long time she\ncouldn't get life into him.\n\nSo the next morning the lassie sat down under the castle window and\nbegan to spin with her golden spinning wheel; and that, too, the\nPrincess with the long nose wanted to have.\n\nSo she threw up the window and asked what the lassie wanted for it; and\nthe girl said, as she had said twice before, that if she might have a\nfew words alone with the Prince the Princess might have the wheel, and\nwelcome.\n\nYes, she might do that; and the lassie was shown again into the Prince's\nroom. This time he was wide awake, and he was very pleased indeed to see\nher.\n\n\"Ah!\" said the Prince, \"you've just come in the nick of time, for\nto-morrow is to be our wedding day; but now I won't have Long-nose, and\nyou are the bride for me. I'll just say that I want to find out what my\nwife is fit for, and then I'll beg her to wash the pillow slip which has\non it the three spots of tallow. She will be sure to say 'Yes'; but when\nshe tries to get out the spots she'll soon find that it is not possible,\nfor she is a troll, like all the rest of her family, and it is not\npossible for a troll to get rid of the marks. Then I'll say that I won't\nhave any other bride than she who can wash out the spots of tallow, and\nI'll call you in to do it.\"\n\nThe wedding was to take place next day, so just before the ceremony the\nPrince said:\n\n\"First of all, I'd just like to see what my bride is fit for.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said the mother, \"I'm quite willing.\"\n\n\"Well, I have a pillow slip which, somehow or other, has got some spots\nof grease on it, and I have sworn never to take any bride but the woman\nwho is able to wash them out for me. If she can't do that, she is not\nworth having.\"\n\nWell, that was no great thing, they said, so they agreed; and she with\nthe long nose began to wash away as hard as ever she could; but the more\nshe rubbed and scrubbed the bigger the spots grew.\n\n\"Ah!\" said the old hag, her mother, \"you can't wash; let me try.\"\n\nBut she hadn't long taken the job in hand before it got far worse than\never; and with all her rubbing, wringing, and scrubbing, the spots grew\nbigger and blacker and darker and uglier.\n\nThen all the other trolls began to wash; but the longer it lasted the\nblacker and uglier it grew, until at last it looked as though it had\nbeen up the chimney.\n\n\"Ah!\" said the Prince, \"you are none of you worth a straw; you can't\nwash. Why, there outside sits a beggar lassie, and I'll be bound she\nknows how to wash better than the whole lot of you.\"\n\nSo he shouted to the lassie to come in, and in she came.\n\n\"Can you wash this clean, lassie?\" said he.\n\n\"I don't know, but I think I can.\"\n\nAnd almost before she had taken it and dipped it in the water, it was\nwhite as driven snow, and whiter still.\n\n\"Yes, you are the lassie for me,\" said the Prince.\n\nAt that the old hag flew in such a rage that she burst on the spot, and\nthe Princess with the long nose after her; and then the whole pack of\ntrolls did the same.\n\nAs for the Prince and Princess, they had a grand wedding, and lived\nhappily at the castle East o' the sun and West o' the moon until the end\nof their days.\n\n\n\n\n_The Golden Lantern, Golden Goat, and Golden Cloak_\n\n\nTHERE was once a poor widow who had three sons. The two elder went out\nto work for their living and while at home they were of little use, as\nthey seldom did as their mother wished, whatever she might say to them.\nBut the youngest lad always remained at home, and helped the old widow\nin her daily occupations. Hence he was much beloved by his mother, but\ndisliked by his brothers, who in mockery gave him the nickname of\n_Pinkel_.\n\nOne day the old widow said to her sons: \"You must all go abroad in the\nworld, and seek your fortunes while you can. I am no longer able to feed\nyou here at home, now that you are grown up.\" The lads answered that\nthey wished for nothing better, since it was contrary to their mother's\nwill that they should remain at home. They then prepared for their\ndeparture, and set out on their journey; but, after wandering about from\nplace to place, were unable to procure any employment.\n\nAfter journeying thus for a long time, they came, late one evening, to a\nvast lake. Far out in the water there was an island, on which there\nappeared a strong light, as of fire. The lads stopped on shore observing\nthe wondrous light, and thence concluded that there must be human beings\nin the place. As it was now dark, and the brothers knew not where to\nfind a shelter for the night, they resolved on taking a boat that lay\namong the reeds, and rowing over to the island to beg a lodging. With\nthis view they placed themselves in the boat and rowed across. On\napproaching the island they perceived a little hut standing at the\nwater's edge; on reaching which they discovered that the bright light\nthat shone over the neighborhood proceeded from a golden lantern that\nstood at the door of the hut. In the yard without, a large goat was\nwandering about, with golden horns, to which small bells were fastened,\nthat gave forth a pleasing sound whenever the animal moved. The brothers\nwondered much at all this, but most of all at the old crone, who with\nher daughter inhabited the hut. The crone was both old and ugly, but was\nsumptuously clad in a pelisse or cloak, worked so artificially with\ngolden threads that it glittered like burnished gold in every hem. The\nlads saw now very clearly that they had come to no ordinary human being,\nbut to a troll.\n\n[Illustration: THE TROLL'S HUT, THE LANTERN, AND THE GOAT WITH THE\nGOLDEN HORNS]\n\nAfter some deliberation the brothers entered, and saw the crone standing\nby the fireplace, and stirring with a ladle in a large pot that was\nboiling on the hearth. They told their story and prayed to be allowed to\npass the night there; but the crone answered _No!_ at the same time\ndirecting them to a royal palace, which lay on the other side of the\nlake. While speaking she kept looking intently on the youngest boy, as\nhe was standing and casting his eyes over everything in the hut. The\ncrone said to him: \"What is thy name, my boy?\" The lad answered smartly:\n\"I am called Pinkel.\" The Troll then said: \"Thy brothers can go their\nway, but thou shalt stay here; for thou appearest to me very crafty, and\nmy mind tells me that I have no good to expect from thee if thou\nshouldst stay long at the King's palace.\" Pinkel now humbly begged to be\nallowed to accompany his brothers, and promised never to cause the crone\nharm or annoyance. At length he also had leave to depart; after which\nthe brothers hastened to the boat, not a little glad that all three had\nescaped so well in this adventure.\n\nToward the morning they arrived at a royal palace, larger and more\nmagnificent than anything they had ever seen before. They entered and\nbegged for employment. The eldest two were received as helpers in the\nroyal stables, and the youngest was taken as page to the King's young\nson; and, being a sprightly, intelligent lad, he soon won the good will\nof everyone, and rose from day to day in the King's favor. At this his\nbrothers were sorely nettled, not enduring that he should be preferred\nto themselves. At length they consulted together how they might compass\nthe fall of their young brother, in the belief that afterwards they\nshould prosper better than before.\n\nThey therefore presented themselves one day before the King, and gave\nhim an exaggerated account of the beautiful lantern that shed light over\nboth land and water, adding that it ill beseemed a king to lack so\nprecious a jewel. On hearing this the King's attention was excited, and\nhe asked: \"Where is this lantern to be found, and who can procure it for\nme?\" The brothers answered: \"No one can do that unless it be our brother\nPinkel. He knows best where the lantern is to be found.\" The King was\nnow filled with a desire to obtain the golden lantern about which he had\nheard tell, and commanded the youth to be called. When Pinkel came, the\nKing said: \"If thou canst procure me the golden lantern that shines over\nland and water I will make thee the chief man in my whole court.\" The\nyouth promised to do his best to execute his lord's behest, and the King\npraised him for his willingness; but the brothers rejoiced at heart; for\nthey well knew it was a perilous undertaking, which could hardly\nterminate favorably.\n\nPinkel now prepared a little boat, and, unaccompanied by anyone, rowed\nover to the island inhabited by the Troll-crone. When he arrived it was\nalready evening, and the crone was busied in boiling porridge for\nsupper, as was her custom. The youth creeping softly up to the roof\ncast from time to time a handful of salt through the chimney, so that it\nfell down into the pot that was boiling on the hearth. When the porridge\nwas ready, and the crone had begun to eat, she could not conceive what\nhad made it so salt and bitter. She was out of humor, and chided her\ndaughter, thinking that she had put too much salt into the porridge; but\nlet her dilute the porridge as she might, it could not be eaten, so salt\nand bitter was it. She then ordered her daughter to go to the well, that\nwas just at the foot of the hill, and fetch water, in order to prepare\nfresh porridge. The maiden answered: \"How can I go to the well? It is so\ndark out of doors that I cannot find the way over the hill.\" \"Then take\nmy gold lantern,\" said the crone, peevishly. The girl took the beautiful\ngold lantern accordingly, and hastened away to fetch the water. But as\nshe stooped to lift the pail, Pinkel, who was on the watch, seized her\nby the feet, and cast her headlong into the water. He then took the\ngolden lantern, and betook himself in all haste to his boat.\n\nIn the meantime the crone was wondering why her daughter stayed out so\nlong, and, at the same moment, chancing to look through the window she\nsaw the light gleaming far out on the water. At this sight she was\nsorely vexed, and hurrying down to the shore, cried aloud: \"Is that\nthou, Pinkel?\" The youth answered: \"Yes, dear mother, it is I.\" The\nTroll continued: \"Art thou not a great knave?\" The lad answered: \"Yes,\ndear mother, I am so.\" The crone now began to lament and complain,\nsaying: \"Ah! what a fool was I to let thee go from me; I might have been\nsure thou wouldst play me some trick. If thou ever comest hither again,\nthou shalt not escape.\" And so the matter rested for that time.\n\nPinkel now returned to the King's palace, and became the chief person at\ncourt, as the King had promised. But when the brothers were informed\nwhat complete success he had had in his adventure, they became yet more\nenvious and embittered than before, and often consulted together how\nthey might accomplish the fall of their young brother, and gain the\nKing's favor for themselves.\n\nBoth brothers went, therefore, a second time before the King, and began\nrelating at full length about the beautiful goat that had horns of the\npurest gold, from which little gold bells were suspended, which gave\nforth a pleasing sound whenever the animal moved. They added that it ill\nbecame so rich a king to lack so costly a treasure. On hearing their\nstory, the King was greatly excited, and said: \"Where is this goat to be\nfound, and who can procure it for me?\" The brothers answered: \"That no\none can do, unless it be our brother Pinkel; for he knows best where the\ngoat is to be found.\" The King then felt a strong desire to possess the\ngoat with the golden horns, and therefore commanded the youth to appear\nbefore him. When Pinkel came, the King said: \"Thy brothers have been\ntelling me of a beautiful goat with horns of the purest gold, and little\nbells fastened to the horns, which ring whenever the animal moves. Now\nit is my will that thou go and procure for me this goat. If thou art\nsuccessful I will make thee lord over a third part of my kingdom.\" The\nyouth having listened to this speech, promised to execute his lord's\ncommission, if only fortune would befriend him. The King then praised\nhis readiness, and the brothers were glad at heart, believing that\nPinkel would not escape this time so well as the first.\n\nPinkel now made the necessary preparations and rowed to the island where\nthe Troll-wife dwelt. When he reached it, evening was already advanced,\nand it was dark, so that no one could be aware of his coming, the golden\nlantern being no longer there, but shedding its light in the royal\npalace. The youth now deliberated with himself how to get the golden\ngoat; but the task was no easy one; for the animal lay every night in\nthe crone's hut. At length it occurred to his mind that there was one\nmethod which might probably prove successful, though, nevertheless,\nsufficiently difficult to carry into effect.\n\nAt night, when it was time for the crone and her daughter to go to bed,\nthe girl went as usual to bolt the door. But Pinkel was just outside on\nthe watch, and had placed a piece of wood behind the door, so that it\nwould not shut close. The girl stood for a long time trying to lock it,\nbut to no purpose. On perceiving this the crone thought there was\nsomething out of order, and called out that the door might very well\nremain unlocked for the night; as soon as it was daylight they could\nascertain what was wanting. The girl then left the door ajar and laid\nherself down to sleep. When the night was a little more advanced, and\nthe crone and her daughter were snug in deep repose, the youth stole\nsoftly into the hut, and approached the goat where he lay stretched out\non the hearth. Pinkel now stuffed wool into all the golden bells, lest\ntheir sound might betray him; then seizing the goat, he bore it off to\nhis boat. When he had reached the middle of the lake, he took the wool\nout of the goat's ears, and the animal moved so that the bells rang\naloud. At the sound the crone awoke, ran down to the water, and cried in\nan angry tone: \"Is that thou, Pinkel?\" The youth answered: \"Yes, dear\nmother, it is.\" The crone said: \"Hast thou stolen my golden goat?\" The\nyouth answered: \"Yes, dear mother, I have.\" The Troll continued: \"Art\nthou not a big knave?\" Pinkel returned for answer: \"Yes, I am so, dear\nmother.\" Now the beldam began to whine and complain, saying: \"Ah! what a\nsimpleton was I for letting thee slip away from me. I well knew thou\nwouldst play me some trick. But if thou comest hither ever again, thou\nshalt never go hence.\"\n\nPinkel now returned to the King's court and obtained the government of a\nthird part of the kingdom, as the King had promised. But when the\nbrothers heard how the enterprise had succeeded, and also saw the\nbeautiful lantern and the goat with golden horns, which were regarded by\neveryone as great wonders, they became still more hostile and embittered\nthan ever. They could think of nothing but how they might accomplish his\ndestruction.\n\nThey went, therefore, one day again before the king, to whom they gave a\nmost elaborate description of the Troll-crone's fur cloak that shone\nlike the brightest gold and was worked with golden threads in every\nseam. The brothers said it was more befitting a queen than a Troll to\npossess such a treasure, and added that that alone was wanting to the\nKing's good fortune. When the King heard all this he became very\nthoughtful, and said: \"Where is this cloak to be found, and who can\nprocure it for me?\" The brothers answered: \"No one can do that except\nour brother Pinkel; for he knows best where the golden cloak is to be\nfound.\" The King was thereupon seized with an ardent longing to possess\nthe golden cloak, and commanded the youth to be called before him. When\nPinkel came, the King said: \"I have long been aware that thou hast an\naffection for my young daughter; and thy brothers have been telling me\nof a beautiful fur cloak which shines with the reddest gold in every\nseam. It is, therefore, my will that thou go and procure for me this\ncloak. If thou art successful, thou shalt be my son-in-law, and after me\nshalt inherit the kingdom.\" When the youth heard this he was glad beyond\nmeasure, and promised either to win the young maiden or perish in the\nattempt. The King thereupon praised his readiness; but the brothers were\ndelighted in their false hearts, and trusted that the enterprise would\nprove their brother's destruction.\n\nPinkel then betook himself to his boat and crossed over to the island\ninhabited by the Troll-crone. On the way he anxiously deliberated with\nhimself how he might get possession of the crone's golden cloak; but it\nappeared to him not very likely that his undertaking would prove\nsuccessful, seeing that the Troll always wore the cloak upon her. So\nafter having concerted divers plans, one more hazardous than another, it\noccurred to him that he would try one method which might perhaps\nsucceed, although it was bold and rash.\n\nIn pursuance of his scheme he bound a bag under his clothes, and walked\nwith trembling step and humble demeanor into the beldam's hut. On\nperceiving him, the Troll cast on him a savage glance, and said:\n\"Pinkel, is that thou?\" The youth answered: \"Yes, dear mother, it is.\"\nThe crone was overjoyed, and said: \"Although thou art come voluntarily\ninto my power, thou canst not surely hope to escape again from here,\nafter having played me so many tricks.\" She then took a large knife and\nprepared to make an end of poor Pinkel; but the youth, seeing her\ndesign, appeared sorely terrified, and said: \"If I must needs die, I\nthink I might be allowed to choose the manner of my death. I would\nrather eat myself to death with milk porridge, than be killed with a\nknife.\" The crone thought to herself that the youth had made a bad\nchoice, and therefore promised to comply with his wish. She then set a\nhuge pot on the fire, in which she put a large quantity of porridge.\nWhen the mess was ready, she placed it before Pinkel that he might eat,\nwho for every spoonful of porridge that he put into his mouth, poured\ntwo into the bag that was tied under his clothes. At length the crone\nbegan to wonder how Pinkel could contrive to swallow such a quantity;\nbut just at the same moment the youth, making a show of being sick to\ndeath, sank down from his seat as if he were dead, and unobserved cut a\nhole in the bag, so that the porridge ran over the floor.\n\nThe crone, thinking that Pinkel had burst with the quantity of porridge\nhe had eaten, was not a little glad, clapped her hands together, and ran\noff to look for her daughter, who was gone to the well. But as the\nweather was wet and stormy, she first took off her beautiful fur cloak\nand laid it aside in the hut. Before she could have proceeded far, the\nyouth came to life again, and springing up like lightning seized on the\ngolden cloak, and ran off at the top of his speed.\n\nShortly after, the crone perceived Pinkel as he was rowing in his little\nboat. On seeing him alive again, and observing the golden cloak\nglittering on the surface of the water, she was angry beyond all\nconception, and ran far out on the strand, crying: \"Is that thou,\nPinkel?\" The youth answered: \"Yes, it is I, dear mother.\" The crone\nsaid: \"Hast thou taken my beautiful golden cloak?\" Pinkel responded:\n\"Yes, dear mother, I have.\" The Troll continued: \"Art thou not a great\nknave?\" The youth replied: \"Yes, I am so, dear mother.\" The old witch\nwas now almost beside herself, and began to whine and lament, and said:\n\"Ah! how silly was it of me to let thee slip away. I was well assured\nthou wouldst play me many wicked tricks.\" They then parted from each\nother.\n\nThe Troll-wife now returned to her hut, and Pinkel crossed the water,\nand arrived safely at the King's palace; there he delivered the golden\ncloak, of which everyone said that a more sumptuous garment was never\nseen nor heard of. The King honorably kept his word with the youth, and\ngave him his young daughter to wife. Pinkel afterwards lived happy and\ncontent to the end of his days; but his brothers were and continued to\nbe helpers in the stable as long as they lived.\n\n\n\n\n_Mother Roundabout's Daughter_\n\n\nONCE on a time there was a goody who had a son, and he was so lazy and\nslow he would never turn his hand to anything that was useful; but\nsinging and dancing he was very fond of; and so he danced and sang as\nlong as it was day, and sometimes even some way on in the night. The\nlonger this lasted, the harder it was for the goody; the boy grew, and\nmeat he must have without stint, and more and more was spent in clothing\nas he grew bigger and bigger, and it was soon worn out, I should think;\nfor he danced and sprang about both in wood and field.\n\nAt last the goody thought it too bad; so she told the lad that now he\nmust begin to turn his hand to work and live steadily, or else there was\nnothing before both of them but starving to death. But that the lad had\nno mind to do. He said he would far rather woo Mother Roundabout's\ndaughter; for if he could only get her, he would be able to live well\nand softly all his days, and sing and dance, and never do one stroke of\nwork.\n\nWhen his mother heard this she, too, thought it would be a very fine\nthing; and so she fitted out the lad as well as she could, that he might\nlook tidy when he reached Mother Roundabout's house; and so he set off\non his way.\n\nNow when he got out of doors the sun shone warm and bright; but it had\nrained the night before, so that the ways were soft and miry and all the\nbog holes stood full of water. The lad took a short cut to Mother\nRoundabout's, and he sang and jumped, as was ever his wont; but just as\nhe sprang and leaped he came to a bog hole, and over it lay a little\nbridge, and from the bridge he had to make a spring across a hole on to\na tuft of grass, that he might not dirty his shoes. But _plump_, it went\nall at once, and just as he put his foot on the tuft it gave way under\nhim, and there was no stopping till he found himself in a nasty, deep,\ndark hole. At first he could see nothing, but when he had been there a\nwhile he had a glimpse of a rat, that came wiggle-waggle up to him with\na bunch of keys at the tip of her tail.\n\n\"What! you here, my boy?\" said the rat. \"Thank you kindly for coming to\nme. I have waited long for you. You come, of course, to woo me, and you\nare eager at it, I can very well see; but you must have patience yet a\nwhile, for I shall have a great dower. I am not ready for my wedding\njust yet, but I'll do my best that it shall be as soon as ever I can.\"\n\nWhen she had said that, she brought out ever so many eggshells, with all\nsorts of bits and scraps, such as rats are wont to eat, and set them\nbefore him, and said:\n\n\"Now, you must sit down and eat; I am sure you must be both tired and\nhungry.\"\n\nBut the lad thought he had no liking for such food.\n\n\"If I were only well away from this, above ground again,\" he thought to\nhimself, but he said nothing out loud.\n\n\"Now, I dare say you'd be glad to go home again,\" said the rat. \"I know\nyour heart is set on this wedding, and I'll make all the haste I can;\nand you must take with you this linen thread, and when you get up above\nyou must not look round, but go straight home, and on the way you must\nmind and say nothing but\n\n 'Short before, and long back,\n Short before, and long back';\"\n\nand as she said this she put the linen thread into his hand.\n\n\"Heaven be praised!\" said the lad, when he got above ground. \"Thither\nI'll never come again, if I can help it.\"\n\nBut he still had the thread in his hand, and he sprang and sang as he\nwas wont; but even though he thought no more of the rat hole, he had got\nhis tongue into the tune, and so he sang,\n\n \"Short before, and long back,\n Short before, and long back.\"\n\nSo when he got back home into the porch he turned round, and there lay\nmany, many hundred ells of the whitest linen, so fine that the handiest\nweaving girl could not have woven it finer.\n\n\"Mother! mother! come out,\" he cried and roared.\n\nOut came the goody in a bustle, and asked whatever was the matter; but\nwhen she saw the linen woof, which stretched as far back as she could\nsee and a bit besides, she couldn't believe her eyes, till the lad told\nher how it had all happened. And when she had heard it, and tried the\nwoof between her fingers, she grew so glad that she, too, began to dance\nand sing.\n\nSo she took the linen and cut it out, and sewed shirts out of it both\nfor herself and her son, and the rest she took into the town and sold,\nand got money for it. And now they both lived well and happily a while;\nbut when the money was all gone, the goody had no more food in the\nhouse, and so she told her son he really must now begin to go to work,\nand live like the rest of the world, else there was nothing for it but\nstarving for them both.\n\nBut the lad had more mind to go to Mother Roundabout and woo her\ndaughter. Well, the goody thought that a very fine thing, for now he had\ngood clothes on his back, and he was not such a bad-looking fellow\neither. So she made him smart, and fitted him out as well as she could;\nand he took out his new shoes and brushed them till they were as bright\nas glass, and when he had done that, off he went.\n\nBut all happened just as it did before. When he got out of doors the sun\nshone warm and bright; but it had rained overnight, so that it was soft\nand miry, and all the bog holes were full of water. The lad took the\nshort cut to Mother Roundabout, and he sang and sprang as he was ever\nwont. Now he took another way than the one he went before; but just as\nhe leaped and jumped, he got upon the bridge over the moor again, and\nfrom it he had to jump over a bog hole on to a turf that he might not\nsoil his shoes. But _plump_ it went, and down it went under him, and\nthere was no stopping till he found himself in a nasty, deep, dark hole.\nAt first he could see nothing; but when he had been there a while he\ncaught a glimpse of a rat with a bunch of keys at the tip of her tail,\nwho came wiggle-waggle up to him.\n\n\"What! you here, my boy?\" said the rat. \"That was nice of you to wish to\nsee me so soon again. You are very eager, that I can see; but you really\nmust wait a while, for there is still something wanting to my dower,\nthough the next time you come, it shall be all right.\"\n\nWhen she had said this she set before him all kinds of scraps and bits\nin eggshells, such as rats eat and like; but the lad thought it all\nlooked like meat that had been already eaten once, and he wasn't hungry,\nhe said; and all the time he thought, \"If I could only once get above\nground, well out of this hole.\" But he said nothing out loud.\n\nSo after a while the rat said:\n\n\"I dare say now you would be glad to get home again; but I'll hasten on\nthe wedding as fast as ever I can. And now you must take with you this\nthread of wool; and when you come above ground you must not look round,\nbut go straight home, and all the way you must mind and say nothing but\n\n 'Short before, and long back,\n Short before, and long back';\"\n\nand as she said that she gave him a thread of wool in his hand.\n\n\"Heaven be praised!\" said the lad, \"that I got away. Thither I'll never\ngo again, if I can help it\"; and so he sang and jumped as he was wont.\nAs for the rat hole, he thought no more about it; but as he had got his\ntongue into tune he sang,\n\n \"Short before, and long back,\n Short before, and long back\";\n\nand so he kept on the whole way home.\n\nWhen he had got into the yard at home again he turned and looked behind\nhim, and there lay the finest cloth, more than many hundred ells; aye,\nalmost above half a mile long, and so fine that no town dandy could have\nhad finer cloth to his coat.\n\n\"Mother! mother! come out!\" cried the lad.\n\nSo the goody came out of doors, and clapped her hands, and was almost\nready to swoon for joy when she saw all that lovely cloth; and then he\nhad to tell her how he had got it, and how it had all happened from\nfirst to last. Then they had a fine time of it, you may fancy. The lad\ngot new clothes of the finest sort, and the goody went off to the town\nand sold the cloth by little and little, and made heaps of money. Then\nshe decked out her cottage, and looked as smart in her old days as\nthough she had been born a lady. So they lived well and happily; but at\nlast that money came to an end too, and so the day came when the goody\nhad no more food in the house, and then she told her son he really must\nturn his hand to work, and live like the rest of the world, else there\nwas nothing but starvation staring both of them in the face.\n\nBut the lad thought it far better to go to Mother Roundabout and woo her\ndaughter. This time the goody thought so too, and said not a word\nagainst it; for now he had new clothes of the finest kind, and he looked\nso well, she thought it quite out of the question that anyone could say\n\"No\" to so smart a lad. So she smartened him up, and made him as tidy as\nshe could; and he himself brought out his new shoes, and rubbed them\ntill they shone so he could see his face in them, and when he had done\nthat, off he went.\n\nThis time he did not take the short cut, but made a great bend, for down\nto the rats he would not go if he could help it, he was so tired of all\nthat wiggle-waggle and that everlasting bridal gossip. As for the\nweather and the ways, they were just as they had been twice before. The\nsun shone, so that it was dazzling on the pools and bog holes, and the\nlad sang and sprang as he was wont; but just as he sang and jumped,\nbefore he knew where he was, he was on the very same bridge across the\nbog again. So he tried to jump from the bridge over a bog hole on to a\ntuft that he might not dirty his bright shoes. _Plump_ it went, and it\ngave way with him, and there was no stopping till he was down in the\nsame nasty, deep, dark hole again. At first he was glad, for he could\nsee nothing; but when he had been there a while he had a glimpse of the\nugly rat, and loath he was to see her with the bunch of keys at the end\nof her tail.\n\n\"Good day, my boy!\" said the rat; \"you are heartily welcome again, for I\nsee you can't bear to be any longer without me. Thank you, thank you\nkindly; but now everything is ready for the wedding, and we shall set\noff to church at once.\"\n\n\"Something dreadful is going to happen,\" thought the lad, but he said\nnothing out loud.\n\nThen the rat whistled, and there came swarming out such a lot of small\nrats and mice of all the holes and crannies, and six big rats came\nharnessed to a frying pan; two mice got up behind as footmen, and two\ngot up before and drove; some, too, got into the pan, and the rat with\nthe bunch of keys at her tail took her seat among them. Then she said to\nthe lad:\n\n\"The road is a little narrow here, so you must be good enough to walk by\nthe side of the carriage, my darling boy, till it gets broader, and then\nyou shall have leave to sit up in the carriage alongside of me.\"\n\n\"Very fine that will be, I dare say,\" thought the lad. \"If I were only\nwell above ground, I'd run away from the whole pack of you.\" That was\nwhat he thought, but he said nothing out loud.\n\nSo he followed them as well as he could; sometimes he had to creep on\nall fours, and sometimes he had to stoop and bend his back as well, for\nthe road was low and narrow in places; but when it got broader he went\non in front, and looked about him how he might best give them the slip\nand run away. But as he went forward he heard a clear, sweet voice\nbehind him, which said:\n\n\"Now the road is good. Come, my dear, and get up into the carriage.\"\n\nThe lad turned round in a trice, and had near lost both nose and ears.\nThere stood the grandest carriage, with six white horses to it, and in\nthe carriage sat a maiden as bright and lovely as the sun, and round her\nsat others who were as pretty and soft as stars. They were a princess\nand her playfellows, who had been bewitched all together. But now they\nwere free because he had come down to them, and never said a word\nagainst them.\n\n\"Come now,\" said the princess. So the lad stepped up into the carriage,\nand they drove to church; and when they drove from church again the\nprincess said: \"Now we will drive first to my house, and then we'll send\nto fetch your mother.\"\n\n\"That is all very well,\" thought the lad, for he still said nothing,\neven now; but, for all that, he thought it would be better to go home to\nhis mother than down into that nasty rat hole. But just as he thought\nthat, they came to a grand castle; into it they turned, and there they\nwere to dwell. And so a grand carriage with six horses was sent to fetch\nthe goody, and when it came back they set to work at the wedding feast.\nIt lasted fourteen days, and maybe they are still at it. So let us all\nmake haste; perhaps we, too, may come in time to drink the bridegroom's\nhealth and dance with the bride.\n\n\n\n\n_The Bear and Skrattel_\n\n\nONE Christmas Day, the King of Norway sat in the great hall of his\npalace, holding a feast. \"Here's a health,\" said he, \"to our brother the\nKing of Denmark! What present shall we send our royal brother as a\npledge of our good will, this Christmas-time?\" \"Send him, please your\nmajesty,\" said the Norseman Gunter, who was the King's chief huntsman,\n\"one of our fine white bears, that his liegemen may show their little\nones what sort of kittens we play with.\" \"Well said, Gunter!\" cried the\nKing; \"but how shall we find a bear that will travel so long a journey\nwillingly, and will know how to behave himself to our worthy brother\nwhen he reaches him?\" \"Please your majesty,\" said Gunter, \"I have a\nglorious fellow, as white as snow, that I caught when he was a cub; he\nwill follow me wherever I go, play with my children, stand on his hind\nlegs, and behave himself as well as any gentleman ought to do. He is at\nyour service, and I will myself take him wherever you choose.\"\n\nSo the King was well pleased, and ordered Gunter to set off at once with\nmaster Bruin: \"Start with the morning's dawn,\" said he, \"and make the\nbest of your way.\"\n\nThe Norseman went home to his house in the forest; and early next\nmorning he waked master Bruin, put the King's collar round his neck, and\naway they went over rocks and valleys, lakes and seas, the nearest road\nto the court of the King of Denmark. When they arrived there, the King\nwas away on a journey, and Gunter and his fellow-traveler set out to\nfollow. It was bright weather, the sun shone, and the birds sang, as\nthey journeyed merrily on, day after day, over hill and over dale, till\nthey came within a day's journey of where the King was.\n\nAll that afternoon they traveled through a gloomy, dark forest; but\ntoward evening the wind began to whistle through the trees, and the\nclouds began to gather and threaten a stormy night. The road, too, was\nvery rough, and it was not easy to tell which was more tired, Bruin or\nhis master. What made the matter worse was that they had found no inn\nthat day by the roadside, and their provisions had fallen short, so that\nthey had no very pleasant prospect before them for the night. \"A pretty\naffair this!\" said Gunter. \"I am likely to be charmingly off here in the\nwoods, with an empty stomach, a damp bed, and a bear for my bedfellow.\"\n\nWhile the Norseman was turning this over in his mind, the wind blew\nharder and harder, and the clouds grew darker and darker: the bear shook\nhis ears, and his master looked at his wits' end, when to his great joy\na woodman came whistling along out of the woods, by the side of his\nhorse dragging a load of fagots. As soon as he came up Gunter stopped\nhim, and begged hard for a night's lodging for himself and his\ncountryman.\n\nThe woodman seemed hearty and good-natured enough, and was quite ready\nto find shelter for the huntsman; but as to the bear, he had never seen\nsuch a beast before in his life, and would have nothing to do with him\non any terms. The huntsman begged hard for his friend, and told how he\nwas bringing him as a present to the King of Denmark; and how he was the\nmost good-natured, best-behaved animal in the world, though he must\nallow that he was by no means one of the handsomest.\n\nThe woodman, however, was not to be moved. His wife, he was sure, would\nnot like such a guest, and who could say what he might take it into his\nhead to do? Besides, he should lose his dog and his cat, his ducks and\nhis geese; for they would all run away for fright, whether the bear was\ndisposed to be friends with them or not.\n\n\"Good night, master huntsman!\" said he; \"if you and old shaggy-back\nthere cannot part, I am afraid you must e'en stay where you are, though\nyou will have a sad night of it, no doubt.\" Then he cracked his whip,\nwhistled up his horse, and set off once more on his way homeward.\n\nThe huntsman grumbled, and Bruin grunted, as they followed slowly after;\nwhen to their great joy they saw the woodman, before he had gone many\nyards, pull up his horse once more and turn round. \"Stay, stay!\" said\nhe; \"I think I can tell you of a better plan than sleeping in a ditch. I\nknow where you may find shelter, if you will run the risk of a little\ntrouble from an unlucky imp that has taken up its abode in my old house\ndown the hill yonder. You must know, friend, that till last winter I\nlived in yon snug little house that you will see at the foot of the hill\nif you come this way. Everything went smoothly on with us till one\nunlucky night, when the storm blew as it seems likely to do to-night,\nsome spiteful guest took it into his head to pay us a visit; and there\nhave ever since been such noises, clattering, and scampering up stairs\nand down, from midnight till the cock crows in the morning, that at last\nwe were fairly driven out of house and home. What he is like no one\nknows; for we never saw him or anything belonging to him, except a\nlittle crooked high-heeled shoe, that he left one night in the pantry.\nBut though we have not seen him, we know he has a hand or a paw as heavy\nas lead; for when it pleases him to lay it upon anyone, down he goes as\nif the blacksmith's hammer had hit him. There is no end of his monkey\ntricks. If the linen is hung out to dry, he cuts the line. If he wants a\ncup of ale, he leaves the tap running. If the fowls are shut up, he lets\nthem loose. He puts the pig into the garden, rides upon the cows, and\nturns the horses into the hay yard; and several times he nearly burned\nthe house down, by leaving a candle alight among the fagots. And then he\nis sometimes so nimble and active that when he is once in motion,\nnothing stands still around him, Dishes and plates--pots and pans--dance\nabout, clattering, making the most horrible music, and breaking each\nother to pieces; and sometimes, when the whim takes him, the chairs and\ntables seem as if they were alive, and dancing a hornpipe, or playing\nbattledore and shuttlecock together. Even the stones and beams of the\nhouse seem rattling against one another; and it is of no use putting\nthings in order, for the first freak the imp took would turn everything\nupside down again.\n\n\"My wife and I bore such a lodger as long as we could, but at length we\nwere fairly beaten; and as he seemed to have taken up his abode in the\nhouse, we thought it best to give up to him what he wanted; and the\nlittle rascal knew what we were about when we were moving, and seemed\nafraid we should not go soon enough. So he helped us off; for on the\nmorning we were to start, as we were going to put our goods upon the\nwagon, there it stood before the door ready loaded; and when we started\nwe heard a loud laugh, and a little sharp voice cried out of the window,\n'Good-by, neighbors!' So now he has our old house all to himself to play\nhis gambols in, whenever he likes to sleep within doors; and we have\nbuilt ourselves a snug cottage on the other side of the hill, where we\nlive as well as we can, though we have no great room to make merry in.\nNow if you, and your ugly friend there, like to run the hazard of taking\nup your quarters in the elf's house, pray do! Yonder is the road. He may\nnot be at home to-night.\"\n\n\"We will try our luck,\" said Gunter. \"Anything is better to my mind than\nsleeping out of doors such a night as this. Your troublesome neighbor\nwill perhaps think so, too, and we may have to fight for our lodging;\nbut never mind, Bruin is rather an awkward hand to quarrel with, and the\ngoblin may perhaps find a worse welcome from him than your house dog\ncould give him. He will at any rate let him know what a bear's hug is;\nfor I dare say he has not been far enough north to know much about it\nyet.\"\n\nThen the woodman gave Gunter a fagot to make his fire with, and wished\nhim a good night. He and the bear soon found their way to the deserted\nhouse, and no one being at home they walked into the kitchen and made a\ncapital fire.\n\n\"Lack-a-day!\" said the Norseman; \"I forgot one thing--I ought to have\nasked that good man for some supper; I have nothing left but some dry\nbread. However, this is better than sleeping in the woods. We must make\nthe most of what we have, keep ourselves warm, and get to bed as soon as\nwe can.\" So after eating up all their crusts, and drinking some water\nfrom the well close by, the huntsman wrapped himself up close in his\ncloak, and lay down in the snuggest corner he could find. Bruin rolled\nhimself up in the corner of the wide fireplace, and both were fast\nasleep, the fire out, and everything quiet within doors long before\nmidnight.\n\nJust as the clock struck twelve the storm began to get louder--the wind\nblew--a slight noise within the room wakened the huntsman, and all on a\nsudden in popped a little ugly skrattel, scarce three spans high, with a\nhump on his back, a face like a dried pippin, a nose like a ripe\nmulberry, and an eye that had lost its neighbor. He had high-heeled\nshoes and a pointed red cap; and came dragging after him a nice fat kid,\nready skinned and fit for roasting. \"A rough night this,\" grumbled the\ngoblin to himself; \"but, thanks to that booby woodman, I've a house to\nmyself. And now for a hot supper and a glass of good ale till the cock\ncrows.\"\n\nNo sooner said than done. The skrattel busied himself about, here and\nthere; presently the fire blazed up, the kid was put on the spit and\nturned merrily round. A keg of ale made its appearance from a closet,\nthe cloth was laid, and the kid was soon dished up for eating. Then the\nlittle imp, in the joy of his heart, rubbed his hands, tossed up his red\ncap, danced before the hearth, and sang his song:\n\n \"Oh! 'tis weary enough abroad to ride,\n In the shivery midnight blast;\n And 'tis dreary enough alone to bide,\n Hungry and cold,\n On the wintry wold,\n Where the drifting snow falls fast.\n\n \"But 'tis cheery enough to revel by night,\n In the crackling fagot's light;\n 'Tis merry enough to have and to hold\n The savory roast,\n And the nut-brown toast,\n With jolly good ale and old.\"\n\nThe huntsman lay snug all this time, sometimes quaking, in dread of\ngetting into trouble, and sometimes licking his lips at the savory\nsupper before him, and half in the mind to fight for it with the imp.\nHowever, he kept himself quiet in his corner; till all of a sudden the\nlittle man's eye wandered from his cheering ale cup to Bruin's carcass,\nas he lay rolled up like a ball fast asleep in the chimney corner.\n\nThe imp turned round sharp in an instant, and crept softly nearer and\nnearer to where Bruin lay, looking at him very closely, and not able to\nmake out what in the world he was. \"One of the family, I suppose!\" said\nhe to himself. But just then Bruin gave his ears a shake, and showed a\nlittle of his shaggy muzzle. \"Oh, ho!\" said the imp, \"that's all, is it?\nBut what a large one! Where could he come from, and how came he here?\nWhat shall I do? Shall I let him alone or drive him out? Perhaps he may\ndo me some mischief, and I am not afraid of mice or rats. So here goes!\nI have driven all the rest of the live stock out of the house, and why\nshould I be afraid of sending this brute after them?\"\n\nWith that the elf walked softly to the corner of the room, and taking up\nthe spit, stole back on tiptoe till he got quite close to the bear; then\nraising up his weapon, down came a rattling thump across Bruin's mazard,\nthat sounded as hollow as a drum. The bear raised himself slowly up,\nsnorted, shook his head, then scratched it, opened first one eye, then\nthe other, took a turn across the room, and grinned at his enemy; who,\nsomewhat alarmed, ran back a few paces and stood with the spit in his\nhand, foreseeing a rough attack. And it soon came, for the bear, rearing\nhimself up, walked leisurely forward, and putting out one of his paws\ncaught hold of the spit, jerked it out of the goblin's hand, and sent it\nspinning to the other end of the kitchen.\n\nAnd now began a fierce battle. This way and that way flew tables and\nchairs, pots and pans. The elf was one moment on the bear's back,\nlugging his ears and pommeling him with blows that might have felled an\nox. In the next, the bear would throw him up in the air, and treat him\nas he came down with a hug that would make the little imp squall. Then\nup he would jump upon one of the beams out of Bruin's reach, and soon,\nwatching his chance, would be down astride upon his back.\n\nMeantime Gunter had become sadly frightened, and seeing the oven door\nopen, crept in for shelter from the fray, and lay there quaking for\nfear. The struggle went on thus a long time, without its seeming at all\nclear who would get the better--biting, scratching, hugging, clawing,\nroaring, and growling, till the whole house rang. The elf, however,\nseemed to grow weaker and weaker. The rivals stood for a moment as if to\nget breath, and the bear was getting ready for a fierce attack when, all\nin a moment, the skrattel dashed his red cap right in his eye, and while\nBruin was smarting with the blow and trying to recover his sight, darted\nto the door, and was out of sight in a moment, though the wind blew, the\nrain pattered, and the storm raged in a merciless manner.\n\n\"Well done! Bravo, Bruin!\" cried the huntsman, as he crawled out of the\noven and ran and bolted the door. \"Thou hast combed his locks rarely;\nand as for thine own ears, they are rather the worse for pulling. But\ncome, let us make the best of the good cheer our friend has left us!\" So\nsaying, they fell to and ate a hearty supper. The huntsman, wishing the\nskrattel a good night and pleasant dreams in a cup of his sparkling ale,\nlaid himself down and slept till morning; and Bruin tried to do the\nsame, as well as his aching bones would let him.\n\nIn the morning the huntsman made ready to set out on his way, and had\nnot got far from the door before he met the woodman, who was eager to\nhear how he had passed the night. Then Gunter told him how he had been\nawakened, what sort of creature the elf was, and how he and Bruin had\nfought it out. \"Let us hope,\" said he, \"you will now be well rid of the\ngentleman. I suspect he will not come where he is likely to get any more\nof Bruin's hugs; and thus you will be well paid for your entertainment\nof us, which, to tell the truth, was none of the best, for if your ugly\nlittle tenant had not brought his supper with him, we should have had\nbut empty stomachs this morning.\"\n\nThe huntsman and his fellow-traveler journeyed on, and let us hope they\nreached the King of Denmark safe and sound; but, to tell the truth, I\nknow nothing more of that part of the story.\n\nThe woodman, meantime, went to his work, and did not fail to watch at\nnight to see whether the skrattel came, or whether he was thoroughly\nfrightened out of his old haunt by the bear, or whatever he might take\nthe beast to be that had handled him as he never was handled before. But\nthree nights passed over, and no traces being seen or heard of him, the\nwoodman began to think of moving back to his old house.\n\nOn the fourth day he was out at his work in the forest, and as he was\ntaking shelter under a tree from a cold storm of sleet and rain that\npassed over, he heard a little cracked voice singing, or rather croaking\nin a mournful tone. So he crept along quietly, and peeped over some\nbushes, and there sat the very same figure that the huntsman had\ndescribed to him. The goblin was sitting without any hat or cap on his\nhead, with a woe-begone face, and with his jacket torn into shreds, and\nhis leg scratched and smeared with blood, as if he had been creeping\nthrough a bramble bush. The woodman listened quietly to his song, and it\nran as before:\n\n \"Oh! 'tis weary enough abroad to ride,\n In the shivery midnight blast;\n And 'tis dreary enough alone to bide,\n Hungry and cold,\n On the wintry wold,\n Where the drifting snow falls fast.\"\n\n\n\"Sing us the other verse, man!\" cried the woodman, for he could not help\ncracking a joke on his old enemy, who he saw was sadly in the dumps at\nthe loss of his good cheer and the shelter against the bad weather. But\nthe instant his voice was heard the little imp jumped up, stamped with\nrage, and was out of sight in the twinkling of an eye.\n\nThe woodman finished his work and was going home in the evening,\nwhistling by his horse's side, when all of a sudden he saw, standing on\na high bank by the wayside, the very same little imp, looking as grim\nand sulky as before. \"Hark ye, bumpkin?\" cried the skrattel; \"canst thou\nhear, fellow? Is thy great cat alive, and at home still?\" \"My cat?\" said\nthe woodman. \"Thy great white cat, man!\" thundered out the little imp.\n\"Oh, my cat!\" said the woodman, at last recollecting himself. \"Oh, yes,\nto be sure! alive and well, I thank you; very happy, I'm sure, to see\nyou and all friends whenever you will do us the favor to call. And hark\nye, friend! as you seem to be so fond of my great cat, you may like to\nknow that she had five kittens last night.\" \"Five kittens?\" muttered the\nelf. \"Yes,\" replied the woodman, \"five of the most beautiful white kits\nyou ever saw--so like the old cat, it would do your heart good to see\nthe whole family--such soft, gentle paws--such delicate whiskers--such\npretty little mouths!\" \"Five kittens?\" muttered, or rather shrieked out,\nthe imp again. \"Yes, to be sure!\" said the woodman; \"five kittens! Do\nlook in to-night, about twelve o'clock--the time, you know, that you\nused to come and see us. The old cat will be so glad to show them to\nyou, and we shall be so happy to see you once more. But where can you\nhave been all this time?\"\n\n\"I come? Not I, indeed!\" shrieked the skrattel. \"What do I want with the\nlittle wretches? Did not I see the mother once? Keep your kittens to\nyourself. I must be off--this is no place for me. Five kittens! So there\nare six of them now! Good-by to you, you'll see me no more; so bad luck\nto your ugly cat and your beggarly house!\" \"And bad luck to you, Mr.\nCrookback!\" cried the woodman, as he threw him the red cap he had left\nbehind in his battle with Bruin. \"Keep clear of my cat, and let us hear\nno more of your pranks, and be hanged to you!\"\n\nSo now that he knew his troublesome guest had taken his leave, the\nwoodman soon moved back all his goods, and his wife and children into\ntheir snug old house. And there they lived happily, for the elf never\ncame to see them any more; and the woodman every day after dinner drank,\n\"Long life to the King of Norway,\" for sending the cat that cleared his\nhouse of vermin.\n\n\n\n\n_The Golden Bird_\n\n\nTHERE was once upon a time a king who had a garden; in that garden there\nwas an apple tree, and on that apple tree there grew a golden apple\nevery year; but when the time came to pluck the apple it was gone, and\nno one knew who took it or what became of it; but gone it was.\n\nThe King had three sons, and one day he told them that he who could\nbring him the apple or get hold of the thief, should have the kingdom\nafter him, no matter whether he was the eldest, the second, or the\nyoungest son.\n\nThe eldest set out first and sat down under the tree to keep watch for\nthe thief. Soon after dark a golden bird came flying, and the light from\nit was so strong and dazzling that it could be seen a long way off. When\nthe Prince saw the bird and the dazzling light he became so frightened\nthat he dared not stay any longer, but rushed indoors as fast as he\ncould.\n\nNext morning the apple was gone; the Prince had then, however, recovered\nhis courage and began to get ready for his journey and wanted to set off\nto find the bird. The King fitted him out in grand style and spared\nneither money nor fine raiment. When the Prince had gone a bit on the\nway he became hungry, opened his scrip and sat down to his breakfast by\nthe roadside. A fox then came out of the wood and sat down and looked at\nhim.\n\n\"Do give me a little to eat,\" said the fox.\n\n\"I'll give you some powder and shot,\" said the Prince; \"my food I shall\nwant myself; nobody can tell how far and how long I may have to travel,\"\nsaid he.\n\n\"Just so,\" said the fox, and so he went back into the wood again.\n\nWhen the Prince had finished his meal and rested awhile he set out on\nhis way again. After a long time he came to a big city, and in that city\nthere was an inn, where there was always joy and never any sorrow; he\nthought that would be a nice place to stop at, and so he remained. And\nthere was such dancing and drinking and joy and merrymaking that he\nforgot the bird and his father and his journey and the whole kingdom.\n\nAway he was and away he stopped.\n\nThe next year the second prince was to watch for the thief in the\ngarden; he also sat down under the tree when the apple began to ripen.\nBut one night, all of a sudden, the golden bird came flying, shining\nlike the sun, and the Prince became so afraid that he took to his heels\nand ran indoors as fast as he could.\n\nIn the morning the apple was gone, but the Prince had then recovered his\ncourage and wanted to set out and find the bird. He began to get ready\nand the King fitted him out in grand style and spared neither money nor\nfine raiment. But the same thing happened to him as to his brother; when\nhe had got a bit on the way he became hungry, opened his scrip and sat\ndown to his breakfast by the roadside. A fox then came out from the pine\nwood and sat down and looked at him.\n\n\"Do give me a little to eat,\" said the fox.\n\n\"I'll give you some powder and shot,\" said the Prince; \"my food I shall\nwant myself; nobody can tell how far and how long I may have to travel,\"\nsaid he.\n\n\"Just so,\" said the fox, and so he went back into the wood again.\n\nWhen the Prince had finished his meal and rested awhile, he set out on\nhis way again. After a long time he came to the same city and the same\ninn, where there was always joy and never any sorrow; and there he also\nthought it would be nice to stop, and the first he met was his brother,\nand so he remained. The brother had been leading a gay and reckless life\nand had scarcely any clothes left on his back; but now he began afresh,\nand there was such dancing and drinking and joy and merriment that the\nsecond prince also forgot the bird and his father and his journey and\nthe whole kingdom. Away he was and away he stopped.\n\nWhen the time came for the apple to ripen again the youngest prince was\nto go into the garden and watch for the thief. He took a companion with\nhim who was to help him up into the tree, and to pass away the time so\nthat he should not fall asleep. All of a sudden they saw a bright light,\nas if from the sun; every feather of the bird could be seen long before\nit came to the tree. The Prince climbed up into the tree and at the same\ntime the golden bird swooped down and took the apple; the Prince tried\nto seize the bird, but he only caught a feather out of its tail.\n\nSo he went to the King's bedroom, and as he came in with the feather, it\nbecame as light as day.\n\nHe also wanted to try if he could find his brothers and catch the bird,\nfor he had been so near to it that he had got a feather from its tail\nand would know it again anywhere, he said.\n\nWell, the King went and pondered long whether he should let him go, for\nhe thought the youngest would not fare any better than the two eldest,\nwho ought to have more knowledge of the world, and he was afraid he\nshould lose him also. But the Prince begged so earnestly that at last he\ngot permission to go.\n\nHe then began to get ready and the King fitted him out in grand style,\nboth with clothes and money, and so he set off.\n\nWhen he had traveled for some time he became hungry and took his scrip\nand sat down to have his breakfast, but just as he was in the midst of\nit a fox came out of the wood and sat down close by his side and looked\nat him.\n\n\"Do give me a little to eat,\" said the fox.\n\n\"I shall want the food myself,\" said the Prince, \"for I cannot tell how\nfar I shall have to travel, but I have enough to give you a little.\"\n\nWhen the fox had got the piece of meat he asked the Prince where he was\ngoing.\n\nYes, that he would tell him.\n\n\"If you will listen to me, I will help you, and you will have good\nluck,\" said the fox.\n\nThe Prince promised he would, and so they set off together. They\ntraveled a while till they came to the same city and the same inn, where\nthere was always joy, but no sorrow.\n\n\"I must keep outside here; the dogs are rather a nuisance,\" said the\nfox, and so he told the Prince where his brothers were to be found and\nwhat they were doing; \"and if you go in there you will not get any\nfurther either,\" said he.\n\nThe Prince promised he would not go in there, and gave him his hand on\nit, and so each went his way. But when the Prince came to the inn and\nheard the noise and merriment going on he felt he must go in; there was\nno help for it, and when he met his brothers there was such rejoicing\nthat he forgot both the fox and the journey and the bird and his father.\nBut when he had been there awhile the fox came--he had ventured into the\ncity after all--and opened the door a little and made a sign to the\nPrince, saying that now they must be off. So the Prince bethought\nhimself, and they went their way.\n\nWhen they had traveled awhile they saw a big mountain far away. The fox\nsaid:\n\n\"Three hundred miles at the back of that mountain there is a gilded\nlinden tree with golden leaves, and in that tree sits the golden bird\nfrom which you took the feather.\"\n\nThither they traveled together. When the Prince was going to catch the\nbird the fox gave him some bright feathers which he was to wave in his\nhands, and so attract the bird, which would then fly down and sit on his\nhand.\n\nBut the fox said he must not touch the linden tree, for inside it was a\nbig troll who owned it, and if the Prince touched only the smallest\ntwig the troll would come out and kill him on the spot.\n\nNo, he would not touch it, said the Prince; but when he had got the bird\non his hand he thought he must have a twig of the tree; there was no\nhelp for it, it was so bright and beautiful. So he took a tiny little\nsprig, but the same moment the troll came out.\n\n\"Who is that stealing my tree and my bird?\" roared the troll, and he was\nso angry that he spurted sparks of fire.\n\n\"Thieves believe that all men steal,\" said the Prince; \"but only those\nget hanged who do not steal properly,\" said he.\n\nThe troll said that made no difference, and was going to kill him, but\nthe Prince begged him to spare his life.\n\n\"Well,\" said the troll, \"if you can bring me back the horse which my\nnearest neighbor has taken from me you will get off with your life.\"\n\n\"Where shall I find it, then?\" said the Prince.\n\n\"Oh, he lives three hundred miles at the back of that big blue mountain\nagainst the horizon yonder,\" said the troll.\n\nThe Prince promised he would do his best. But when he came back to the\nfox he found him in rather a bad temper.\n\n\"Now you have got yourself into trouble,\" said the fox; \"if you had\nlistened to me we could have been on our way home by this time,\" said\nhe.\n\nSo they had to make a fresh start, for the Prince had pledged his word,\nand his life depended on his finding the horse.\n\nAt last they got there, but as the Prince was going to take the horse\nthe fox said:\n\n\"When you come into the stable you will find all sorts of bridles\nhanging on the wall, both of gold and silver; you must not touch them,\nfor then the troll will come and kill you; you must take the ugliest and\nshabbiest you see.\"\n\nYes, the Prince promised he would; but when he came into the stable he\nthought it was quite unreasonable not to take a fine bridle, for there\nwere plenty of them, and so he took the brightest he could find. It was\nas bright as gold, but just then the troll came and was so angry that\nsparks flew from him.\n\n\"Who is that stealing my horse and my bridle?\" he shrieked.\n\n\"Thieves believe that all men steal,\" said the Prince; \"but only those\nget hanged who do not steal properly,\" said he.\n\n\"Well, that makes no difference. I'll kill you on the spot,\" shouted the\ntroll.\n\nBut the Prince begged him to spare his life.\n\n\"Well,\" said the troll, \"if you can bring me back the fair damsel which\nmy nearest neighbor has taken from me I will spare you.\"\n\n\"Whereabouts does he live, then?\" asked the Prince.\n\n\"Oh, he lives three hundred miles at the back of that big blue mountain\nagainst the horizon yonder,\" said the troll.\n\nThe Prince promised he would fetch the damsel, and was allowed to go,\nand so he escaped with his life.\n\nBut when he came out you may imagine how angry the fox was.\n\n\"Now you've got yourself into trouble again,\" said he; \"if you had\nlistened to me we could have been on our way home long ago. I almost\nthink I will not go with you any further.\"\n\nBut the Prince begged and prayed and promised he would never do anything\nelse but what the fox told him, if he would only remain with him. At\nlast the fox gave in, and they became firm friends again; so they set\noff once more and came at last to where the fair damsel was.\n\n\"Well,\" said the fox, \"I have your promise, but I dare not let you in to\nthe troll, after all; this time I must go myself.\" So he went in, and\nafter a while he came out with the damsel, and so they went back the\nsame way they had come.\n\nWhen they got to the troll who had the horse they took both the horse\nand the brightest bridle; and when they got to the troll who had the\nlinden tree and the bird, they took both the tree and the bird and\nstarted off with them.\n\nWhen they had got a bit on the way they came to a field of rye, and the\nfox then said:\n\n\"I hear a thundering noise; you had better go on ahead; I will remain\nhere awhile,\" he said. He then plaited himself a gown of rye straw, in\nwhich he looked like a preacher. All at once the three trolls came\nrushing along, hoping to overtake the Prince.\n\n\"Have you seen anyone passing here with a fair damsel, a horse with a\ngolden bridle, a golden bird, and a gilded linden tree?\" they shouted to\nthe fox as he stood there preaching.\n\n\"Well, I've heard from my grandmother's grandmother that something of\nthe kind passed this way, but that was in the good old times, when my\ngrandmother's grandmother baked halfpenny cakes and gave back the\nhalfpenny.\"\n\nThen all the trolls burst out laughing: \"Ha, ha, ha!\" they laughed and\nheld on to one another.\n\n\"If we have slept so long we may as well turn our noses homeward, and go\nto sleep again,\" they said, and so they went back the way they came.\n\nThe fox then set off after the Prince, but when they came to the city\nwhere the inn and his brothers were, he said:\n\n\"I dare not go through the town on account of the dogs; I must go my own\nway just above here, but you must take good care your brothers do not\nget hold of you.\"\n\nBut when the Prince came into the city he thought it would be too bad if\nhe did not look in upon his brothers and have a word with them, and so\nhe tarried there for a while.\n\nWhen the brothers saw him they came out and took the damsel, and the\nhorse, and the bird, and the linden tree, and everything from him, and\nthey put him in a barrel, and threw him into the sea; and so they set\noff home to the King's palace, with the damsel, and the horse, and the\nbird, and the linden tree, and everything. But the damsel would not\nspeak, and she became pale and wretched to look upon; the horse got so\nthin and miserable that it could hardly hang together; the bird became\nsilent and shone no more, and the linden tree withered.\n\nIn the meantime the fox was sneaking about outside the city where the\ninn and the merriment were, and was waiting for the Prince and the\ndamsel, and wondering why they did not return.\n\nHe went hither and thither, waiting and watching for them, and at last\nhe came down to the shore, and when he saw the barrel, which was lying\nout at sea drifting, he shouted: \"Why are you drifting about there, you\nempty barrel?\"\n\n\"Oh, it is I,\" said the Prince in the barrel.\n\nThe fox then swam out to sea as fast as he could, got hold of the\nbarrel, and towed it to land; then he began to gnaw the hoops, and when\nhe had got some off the barrel, he said to the Prince: \"Stamp and kick.\"\n\nThe Prince stamped and kicked till all the staves flew about, and out he\njumped from the barrel.\n\nSo they went together to the King's palace, and when they got there the\ndamsel regained her beauty and began to talk, the horse became so fat\nand sleek that every hair glistened; the light shone from the bird and\nit began to sing; the linden tree began to blossom and its leaves to\nsparkle, and the damsel said, \"He is the one who has saved us.\"\n\nThey planted the linden tree in the garden, and the youngest prince was\nto marry the princess, for such the damsel really was; but the two\neldest brothers were put each in a barrel and rolled down a high\nmountain.\n\nThen they began to prepare for the wedding, but the fox first asked the\nPrince to put him on the block and cut his head off, and although the\nPrince both prayed and cried, there was no help for it; he would have\nto do it. But as he cut the head off, the fox turned into a handsome\nprince, and he was the brother of the princess, whom they had rescued\nfrom the troll.\n\nSo the wedding came off and everything was so grand and splendid, that\nthe news of the festivities reached all the way here.\n\n\n\n\n_The Doll in the Grass_\n\n\nONCE upon a time there was a King who had twelve sons. When they were\ngrown up he told them they must go out into the world and find\nthemselves wives, who must all be able to spin and weave and make a\nshirt in one day, else he would not have them for daughters-in-law. He\ngave each of his sons a horse and a new suit of armor, and so they set\nout in the world to look for wives.\n\nWhen they had traveled a bit on the way they said they would not take\nAshiepattle with them, for he was good for nothing. Ashiepattle must\nstop behind; there was no help for it. He did not know what he should do\nor which way he should turn; he became so sad that he got off the horse\nand sat down on the grass and began to cry.\n\nWhen he had sat a while, one of the tussocks among the grass began to\nmove, and out of it came a small white figure; as it came nearer\nAshiepattle saw that it was a beautiful little girl, but she was so\ntiny, so very, very tiny.\n\nShe went up to him and asked him if he would come below and pay a visit\nto the doll in the grass.\n\nYes, that he would; and so he did. When he came down below, the doll in\nthe grass was sitting in a chair, dressed very finely and looking still\nmore beautiful. She asked Ashiepattle where he was going and what was\nhis errand.\n\nHe told her they were twelve brothers, and that the King had given them\neach a horse and a suit of armor, and told them to go out in the world\nand find themselves wives, but they must all be able to spin and weave\nand make a shirt in a day.\n\n[Illustration: \"SHE SAID SHE WOULD SIT AND DRIVE IN A SILVER SPOON\"]\n\n\"If you can do that and will become my wife, I will not travel any\nfarther,\" said Ashiepattle to the doll in the grass.\n\nYes, that she would, and she set to work at once to get the shirt spun,\nwoven, and made; but it was so tiny, so very, very tiny, no bigger\nthan--so!\n\nAshiepattle then returned home, taking the shirt with him; but when he\nbrought it out he felt very shy because it was so small. But the King\nsaid he could have her for all that, and you can imagine how happy and\njoyful Ashiepattle became.\n\nThe road did not seem long to him as he set out to fetch his little\nsweetheart. When he came to the doll in the grass he wanted her to sit\nwith him on his horse; but no, that she wouldn't; she said she would sit\nand drive in a silver spoon, and she had two small white horses which\nwould draw her. So they set out, he on his horse and she in the silver\nspoon; and the horses which drew her were two small white mice.\n\nAshiepattle always kept to one side of the road, for he was so afraid he\nshould ride over her; she was so very, very tiny.\n\nWhen they had traveled a bit on the way they came to a large lake; there\nAshiepattle's horse took fright and shied over to the other side of the\nroad, and upset the spoon, so that the doll in the grass fell into the\nwater. Ashiepattle became very sad, for he did not know how he should\nget her out again; but after a while a merman brought her up. But now\nshe had become just as big as any other grown-up being and was much more\nbeautiful than she was before. So he placed her in front of him on the\nhorse and rode home.\n\nWhen Ashiepattle got there all his brothers had also returned, each with\na sweetheart; but they were so ugly and ill-favored and bad-tempered\nthat they had come to blows with their sweethearts on their way home. On\ntheir heads they had hats which were painted with tar and soot, and this\nhad run from their hats down their faces, so that they were still uglier\nand more ill-favored to behold.\n\nWhen the brothers saw Ashiepattle's sweetheart they all became\nenvious of him, but the King was so pleased with Ashiepattle and his\nsweetheart that he drove all the others away, and so Ashiepattle was\nmarried to the doll in the grass; and afterwards they lived happy and\ncomfortable for a long, long while; and if they are not dead, they must\nbe still alive.\n\n\n\n\n_The Princess on the Glass Hill_\n\n\nONCE upon a time there was a man who had a meadow which lay on the side\nof a mountain, and in the meadow there was a barn in which he stored\nhay. But there had not been much hay in the barn for the last two years,\nfor every St. John's eve, when the grass was in the height of its vigor,\nit was all eaten clean up, just as if a whole flock of sheep had gnawed\nit down to the ground during the night. This happened once and it\nhappened twice, but then the man got tired of losing his crop, and said\nto his sons--he had three of them, and the third was called\nCinderlad--that one of them must go and sleep in the barn on St. John's\nnight, for it was absurd to let the grass be eaten up again, blade and\nstalk, as it had been the last two years, and the one who went to watch\nmust keep a sharp lookout, the man said.\n\nThe eldest was quite willing to go to the meadow. He would watch the\ngrass, he said, and he would do it so well that neither man nor beast,\nnor even the devil himself, should have any of it. So when evening came\nhe went to the barn and lay down to sleep; but when night was drawing\nnear there was such a rumbling and such an earthquake that the walls and\nroof shook again, and the lad jumped up and took to his heels as fast as\nhe could, and never even looked back, and the barn remained empty that\nyear just as it had been for the last two.\n\nNext St. John's eve the man again said he could not go on in this way\nlosing all the grass in the outlying field year after year, and that one\nof his sons must just go there and watch it, and watch well, too. So\nthe next oldest son was willing to show what he could do. He went to the\nbarn and lay down to sleep, as his brother had done; but when night was\ndrawing near there was a great rumbling, and then an earthquake, which\nwas even worse than that on the former St. John's night; and when the\nyouth heard it he was terrified, and went off, running as if for a\nwager.\n\nThe year after it was Cinderlad's turn, but when he made ready to go the\nothers laughed at him and mocked him. \"Well, you are just the right one\nto watch the hay, you who have never learned anything but how to sit\namong the ashes and bake yourself!\" said they. Cinderlad did not trouble\nhimself about what they said, but when evening drew near rambled away to\nthe outlying field. When he got there he went into the barn and lay\ndown, but in about an hour's time the rumbling and creaking began, and\nit was frightful to hear it. \"Well, if it gets no worse than that I can\nmanage to stand it,\" thought Cinderlad. In a little time the creaking\nbegan again, and the earth quaked so that all the hay flew about the\nboy. \"Oh! if it gets no worse than that I can manage to stand it,\"\nthought Cinderlad. But then came a third rumbling and a third\nearthquake, so violent that the boy thought the walls and roof had\nfallen down; but when that was over everything suddenly grew as still as\ndeath around him. \"I am pretty sure that it will come again,\" thought\nCinderlad; but no, it did not. Everything was quiet and everything\nstayed quiet, and when he had lain still a short time he heard something\nthat sounded as if a horse were standing chewing just outside the barn\ndoor. He stole away to the door, which was ajar, to see what was there,\nand a horse was standing eating. It was so big and fat and fine a horse\nthat Cinderlad had never seen one like it before, and a saddle and\nbridle lay upon it, and a complete suit of armor for a knight, and\neverything was of copper and so bright that it shone again. \"Ha! ha! it\nis thou who eatest up our hay, then,\" thought the boy; \"but I will stop\nthat.\" So he made haste and took out his steel for striking fire and\nthrew it over the horse, and then it had no power to stir from the\nspot, and became so tame that the boy could do what he liked with it. So\nhe mounted it and rode away to a place which no one knew of but himself,\nand there he tied it up. When he went home again his brothers laughed\nand asked how he had got on.\n\n\"You didn't lie long in the barn, if even you have been so far as the\nfield!\" said they.\n\n\"I lay in the barn till the sun rose, but I saw nothing and heard\nnothing, not I,\" said the boy. \"Heaven knows what there was to make you\ntwo so frightened.\"\n\n\"Well, we shall soon see whether you have watched the meadow or not,\"\nanswered the brothers; but when they got there the grass was all\nstanding just as long and as thick as it had been the night before.\n\nThe next St. John's eve it was the same thing once again. Neither of the\ntwo brothers dared to go to the outlying field to watch the crop, but\nCinderlad went, and everything happened exactly the same as on the\nprevious St. John's eve. First there was a rumbling and an earthquake,\nand then there was another, and then a third; but all three earthquakes\nwere much, very much more violent than they had been the year before.\nThen everything became still as death again, and the boy heard something\nchewing outside the barn door, so he stole as softly as he could to the\ndoor, which was slightly ajar, and again there was a horse standing\nclose by the wall of the house, eating and chewing, and it was far\nlarger and fatter than the first horse, and it had a saddle on its back,\nand a bridle was on it, too, and a full suit of armor for a knight, all\nof bright silver, and as beautiful as anyone could wish to see. \"Ho!\nho!\" thought the boy, \"is it thou who eatest up our hay in the night?\nBut I will put a stop to that.\" So he took out his steel for striking\nfire and threw it over the horse's mane, and the beast stood there as\nquiet as a lamb. Then the boy rode this horse, too, away to the place\nwhere he kept the other, and then went home again.\n\n\"I suppose you will tell us that you have watched well again this time,\"\nsaid the brothers.\n\n\"Well, so I have,\" said Cinderlad. So they went there again, and there\nthe grass was, standing as high and as thick as it had been before; but\nthat did not make them any kinder to Cinderlad.\n\nWhen the third St. John's night came, neither of the two elder brothers\ndared to lie in the outlying barn to watch the grass, for they had been\nso heartily frightened the night that they had slept there that they\ncould not get over it; but Cinderlad dared to go, and everything\nhappened just the same as on the two former nights. There were three\nearthquakes, each worse than the other, and the last flung the boy from\none wall of the barn to the other, but then everything suddenly became\nstill as death. When he had lain quietly a short time he heard something\nchewing outside the barn door. Then he once more stole to the door,\nwhich was slightly ajar, and behold! a horse was standing just outside\nit, which was much larger and fatter than the two others he had caught.\n\"Ho! ho! it is thou, then, who art eating up our hay this time,\" thought\nthe boy; \"but I will put a stop to that.\" So he pulled out his steel for\nstriking fire and threw it over the horse, and it stood as still as if\nit had been nailed to the field, and the boy could do just what he liked\nwith it. Then he mounted it and rode away to the place where he had the\ntwo others, and then he went home again. Then the two brothers mocked\nhim just as they had done before, and told him that they could see that\nhe must have watched the grass very carefully that night, for he looked\njust as if he were walking in his sleep; but Cinderlad did not trouble\nhimself about that, but just bade them go to the field and see. They did\ngo, and this time, too, the grass was standing, looking as fine and as\nthick as ever.\n\nThe King of the country in which Cinderlad's father dwelt had a daughter\nwhom he would give to no one who could not ride up to the top of the\nglass hill, for there was a high, high hill of glass, slippery as ice,\nand it was close to the King's palace. Upon the very top of this the\nKing's daughter was to sit with three golden apples in her lap, and the\nman who could ride up and take the three golden apples should marry her\nand have half the kingdom. The King had this proclaimed in every church\nin the whole kingdom, and in many other kingdoms, too. The Princess was\nvery beautiful, and all who saw her fell violently in love with her,\neven in spite of themselves. So it is needless to say that all the\nprinces and knights were eager to win her and half the kingdom besides,\nand that for this cause they came riding thither from the very end of\nthe world, dressed so splendidly that their raiments gleamed in the\nsunshine, and riding on horses which seemed to dance as they went, and\nthere was not one of these princes who did not think that he was sure to\nwin the Princess.\n\nWhen the day appointed by the King had come, there was such a host of\nknights and princes under the glass hill that they seemed to swarm, and\neveryone who could walk or even creep was there, too, to see who won the\nKing's daughter. Cinderlad's two brothers were there, but they would not\nhear of letting him go with them, for he was so dirty and black with\nsleeping and grubbing among the ashes that they said everyone would\nlaugh at them if they were seen in the company of such an oaf.\n\n\"Well, then, I will go all alone by myself,\" said Cinderlad.\n\nWhen the two brothers got to the glass hill all the princes and knights\nwere trying to ride up it, and their horses were in a foam; but it was\nall in vain, for no sooner did the horses set foot upon the hill than\ndown they slipped, and there was not one which could get even so much as\na couple of yards up. Nor was that strange, for the hill was as smooth\nas glass windowpanes and as steep as the side of a house. But they were\nall eager to win the King's daughter and half the kingdom, so they rode\nand they slipped, and thus it went on. At length all the horses were so\ntired that they could do no more and so hot that the foam dropped from\nthem, and the riders were forced to give up the attempt.\n\nThe King was just thinking that he would cause it to be proclaimed that\nthe riding should begin afresh on the following day, when perhaps it\nmight go better, when suddenly a knight came riding up on so fine a\nhorse that no one had ever seen the like of it before, and the knight\nhad armor of copper, and his bridle was of copper, too, and all his\naccouterments were so bright that they shone again. The other knights\nall called out to him that he might just as well spare himself the\ntrouble of trying to ride up the glass hill, for it was of no use to\ntry; but he did not heed them, and rode straight off to it and went up\nas if it were nothing at all. Thus he rode for a long way--it may have\nbeen a third part of the way up--but when he had got so far he turned\nhis horse round and rode down again. But the Princess thought that she\nhad never yet seen so handsome a knight, and while he was riding up she\nwas sitting thinking, \"Oh, how I hope he may be able to come up to the\ntop!\" And when she saw that he was turning his horse back she threw one\nof the golden apples down after him, and it rolled into his shoe. But\nwhen he had come down from off the hill he rode away, and that so fast\nthat no one knew what had become of him.\n\n[Illustration: JUST AS CINDERLAD TURNED HIS HORSE AROUND, THE PRINCESS\nTHREW THE GOLDEN APPLE]\n\nSo all the princes and knights were bidden to present themselves before\nthe King that night, so that he who had ridden so far up the glass hill\nmight show the golden apple which the king's daughter had thrown down.\nBut no one had anything to show. One knight presented himself after the\nother, and none could show the apple.\n\nAt night, too, Cinderlad's brothers came home again and had a long story\nto tell about the riding up the glass hill. At first, they said, there\nwas not one who was able to get even so much as one step up, but then\ncame a knight who had armor of copper and a bridle of copper, and his\narmor and trappings were so bright that they shone to a great distance,\nand it was something like a sight to see him riding. He rode one third\nof the way up the glass hill, and he could easily have ridden the whole\nof it if he had liked; but he had turned back, for he had made up his\nmind that that was enough for once. \"Oh! I should have liked to see him\ntoo, that I should,\" said Cinderlad, who was as usual sitting by the\nchimney among the cinders. \"You, indeed!\" said the brothers. \"You\nlook as if you were fit to be among such great lords, dirty creature\nthat you are to sit there!\"\n\nNext day the brothers were for setting out again, and this time, too,\nCinderlad begged them to let him go with them and see who rode; but no,\nthey said he was not fit to do that, for he was much too ugly and dirty.\n\"Well, well, then I will go all alone by myself,\" said Cinderlad. So the\nbrothers went to the glass hill, and all the princes and knights began\nto ride again, and this time they had taken care to rough the shoes of\ntheir horses; but that did not help them. They rode and they slipped as\nthey had done the day before, and not one of them could even get so far\nas a yard up the hill. When they had tired out their horses, so that\nthey could do no more, they again had to stop altogether. But just as\nthe King was thinking that it would be well to proclaim that the riding\nshould take place next day for the last time, so that they might have\none more chance, he suddenly bethought himself that it would be well to\nwait a little longer to see if the knight in copper armor would come on\nthis day too. But nothing was to be seen of him.\n\nJust as they were still looking for him, however, came a knight riding\non a steed that was much, much finer than that which the knight in\ncopper armor had ridden, and this knight had silver armor and a silver\nsaddle and bridle, and all were so bright that they shone and glistened\nwhen he was a long way off. Again the other knights called to him, and\nsaid that he might just as well give up the attempt to ride up the glass\nhill, for it was useless to try; but the knight paid no heed to that,\nbut rode straight away to the glass hill, and went still farther up than\nthe knight in copper armor had gone; but when he had ridden two thirds\nof the way up he turned his horse round and rode down again. The\nPrincess liked this knight still better than she had liked the other,\nand sat longing that he might be able to get up above, and when she saw\nhim turning back she threw the second apple after him, and it rolled\ninto his shoe, and as soon as he had got down the glass hill he rode\naway so fast that no one could see what had become of him.\n\nIn the evening, when everyone was to appear before the King and\nPrincess, in order that he who had the golden apple might show it, one\nknight went in after the other, but none of them had a golden apple to\nshow.\n\nAt night the two brothers went home as they had done the night before,\nand told how things had gone, and how everyone had ridden, but no-one\nhad been able to get up the hill. \"But last of all,\" they said, \"came\none in silver armor, and he had a silver bridle on his horse and a\nsilver saddle, and oh, but he could ride! He took his horse two thirds\nof the way up the hill, but then he turned back. He was a fine fellow,\"\nsaid the brothers, \"and the Princess threw the second golden apple to\nhim!\"\n\n\"Oh, how I should have liked to see him too!\" said Cinderlad.\n\n\"Oh, indeed! He was a little brighter than the ashes that you sit\ngrubbing among, you dirty, black creature!\" said the brothers.\n\nOn the third day everything went just as on the former days. Cinderlad\nwanted to go with them to look at the riding, but the two brothers would\nnot have him in their company, and when they got to the glass hill there\nwas no one who could ride even so far as a yard up it, and everyone\nwaited for the knight in silver armor, but he was neither to be seen nor\nheard of. At last, after a long time, came a knight riding upon a horse\nthat was such a fine one its equal had never yet been seen. The knight\nhad golden armor and the horse a golden saddle and bridle, and these\nwere all so bright that they shone and dazzled everyone, even while the\nknight was still at a great distance. The other princes and knights were\nnot able even to call to tell him how useless it was to try to ascend\nthe hill, so amazed were they at the sight of his magnificence. He rode\nstraight away to the glass hill, and galloped up it as if it were no\nhill at all, so that the Princess had not even time to wish that he\nmight get up the whole way. As soon as he had ridden to the top he took\nthe third golden apple from the lap of the Princess, and then turned his\nhorse about and rode down again, and vanished from their sight before\nanyone was able to say a word to him.\n\nWhen the two brothers came home again at night they had much to tell of\nhow the riding had gone off that day, and at last they told about the\nknight in the golden armor too. \"He was a fine fellow, that was! Such\nanother splendid knight is not to be found on earth!\" said the brothers.\n\n\"Oh, how I should have liked to see him too!\" said Cinderlad.\n\n\"Well, he shone nearly as brightly as the coal-heaps that thou art\nalways lying raking among, dirty black creature that thou art!\" said the\nbrothers.\n\nNext day all the knights and princes were to appear before the King and\nthe Princess--it had been too late for them to do it the night\nbefore--in order that he who had the golden apple might produce it. They\nall went in turn, first princes and then knights, but none of them had a\ngolden apple.\n\n\"But somebody must have it,\" said the King, \"for with our own eyes we\nall saw a man ride up and take it.\" So he commanded that everyone in the\nkingdom should come to the palace and see if he could show the apple.\nAnd one after the other they all came, but no one had the golden apple,\nand after a long, long time Cinderlad's two brothers came likewise. They\nwere the last of all, so the King inquired of them if there was no one\nelse in the kingdom left to come.\n\n\"Oh, yes, we have a brother,\" said the two, \"but he never got the golden\napple! He never left the cinder-heap on any of the three days.\"\n\n\"Never mind that,\" said the King. \"As everyone else has come to the\npalace, let him come too.\"\n\nSo Cinderlad was forced to go to the King's palace.\n\n\"Hast thou the golden apple?\" asked the King.\n\n\"Yes, here is the first, and here is the second, and here is the third\ntoo,\" said Cinderlad, and he took all the three apples out of his\npocket, and with that threw off his sooty rags and appeared there\nbefore them in his bright golden armor, which gleamed as he stood.\n\n\"Thou shalt have my daughter and the half of my kingdom, and thou hast\nwell earned both!\" said the King. So there was a wedding, and Cinderlad\ngot the King's daughter, and everyone made merry at the wedding, for all\nof them could make merry, though they could not ride up the glass hill,\nand if they have not left off their merry-making they must be at it\nstill.\n\n\n\n\n_The Ram and the Pig who went into the Woods to Live by Themselves_\n\n\nTHERE was once upon a time a ram, who was being fattened up for killing.\nHe had therefore plenty to eat, and he soon became round and fat with\nall the good things he got. One day the dairymaid came and gave him some\nmore food.\n\n\"You must eat, Ram,\" she said; \"you'll not be long here now, for\nto-morrow we are going to kill you.\"\n\n\"There's an old saying that no one should sneer at old women's advice,\nand that advice and physic can be had for everything except death,\"\nthought the Ram to himself; \"but perhaps I might manage to escape it\nthis time.\"\n\nAnd so he went on eating till he was full, and when he was quite\nsatisfied he ran his horns against the door, burst it open, and set off\nto the neighboring farm. There he made straight for the pigsty, to look\nfor a pig with whom he had struck up an acquaintance on the common,\nsince when they had always been good friends and got on well together.\n\n\"Good day, and thanks for your kindness last time we met,\" said the Ram\nto the Pig.\n\n\"Good day, and thanks to you,\" said the Pig.\n\n\"Do you know why they make you so comfortable, and why they feed you and\nlook after you so well?\" said the Ram.\n\n\"No,\" said the Pig.\n\n\"There are many mouths to feed on this farm, you must know,\" said the\nRam; \"they are going to kill you and eat you.\"\n\n\"Are they?\" said the Pig. \"Well, much good may it do them!\"\n\n\"If you are of the same mind as I, we will go into the woods and build a\nhouse and live by ourselves; there is nothing like having a home of your\nown, you know,\" said the Ram.\n\nYes, the Pig was quite willing. \"It's nice to be in fine company,\" said\nhe, and off they started.\n\nWhen they had got a bit on the way they met a goose.\n\n\"Good day, my good people, and thanks for your kindness last time we\nmet,\" said the Goose. \"Where are you off to?\"\n\n\"Good day, and thanks to you,\" said the Ram. \"We had it altogether too\ncomfortable at our place, so we are off to the woods to live by\nourselves. In your own house you are your own master, you know,\" said\nhe.\n\n\"Well, I'm very comfortable where I am,\" said the Goose; \"but why\nshouldn't I join you? Good company makes the day shorter,\" said she.\n\n\"But neither hut nor house can be built by gabbling and quacking,\" said\nthe Pig. \"What do you think you can do?\"\n\n\"Good counsel and skill may do as much as a giant's will,\" said the\nGoose. \"I can pluck moss and stuff it into the crevices, so that the\nhouse will be warm and comfortable.\"\n\nWell, she might come with them, thought the Pig, for he liked the place\nto be warm and cozy.\n\nWhen they had gone a bit on the way--the Goose was not getting along\nvery fast--they met a hare, who came scampering out of the wood.\n\n\"Good day, my good people, and thanks for your kindness the last time we\nmet,\" said the Hare. \"How far are you going to-day?\" said he.\n\n\"Good day, and thanks to you,\" said the Ram; \"we had it altogether too\ncomfortable at our place, so we are off to the woods to build a house\nand live by ourselves. When you have tried both East and West, you'll\nfind that a home of your own is, after all, the best,\" said he.\n\n\"Well, I have, of course, a home in every bush,\" said the Hare; \"but I\nhave often said to myself in the winter that if I lived till the summer\nI would build a house, so I have a good mind to go with you and build\none after all,\" said he.\n\n\"Well, if the worst comes to the worst, we might take you with us to\nfrighten the dogs away,\" said the Pig, \"for you couldn't help us to\nbuild the house, I should say.\"\n\n\"There is always something for willing hands to do in this world,\" said\nthe Hare. \"I have teeth to gnaw pegs with, and I have paws to knock them\ninto the walls, so I'll do very well for a carpenter; for 'good tools\nmake good work,' as the man said, when he skinned his mare with an\nauger,\" said the Hare.\n\nWell, he might come along with them and help to build the house; there\ncould be no harm in that.\n\nWhen they had got a bit farther on the way they met a cock.\n\n\"Good day, my good people, and thanks for your kindness last time we\nmet,\" said the Cock; \"where are you all going to-day?\" he said.\n\n\"Good day, and thanks to you,\" said the Ram; \"we had it altogether too\ncomfortable at our place, so we are off to the woods to build a house\nand live by ourselves. 'For unless at home you bake, you'll lose both\nfuel and cake,'\" said he.\n\n\"Well, I am comfortable enough where I am,\" said the Cock, \"but it's\nbetter to have your own roost than to sit on a stranger's perch and\ncrow; and that cock is best off who has a home of his own,\" said he. \"If\nI could join such fine company as yours, I, too, would like to go to the\nwoods and build a house.\"\n\n\"Well, flapping and crowing is all very well for noise, but it won't cut\njoists,\" said the Pig. \"You can't help us to build a house,\" he said.\n\n\"It is not well to live in a house where there is neither dog nor cock,\"\nsaid the Cock; \"I am early to rise and early to crow.\"\n\n\"Yes, 'early to rise makes one wealthy and wise,' so let him come with\nus!\" said the Pig. (He was always the heaviest sleeper.) \"Sleep is a big\nthief, and steals half one's life,\" he said.\n\nSo they all set off to the woods and built the house. The Pig felled the\ntrees and the Ram dragged them home; the Hare was the carpenter, and\ngnawed pegs and hammered them into walls and roof; the Goose plucked\nmoss and stuffed it into the crevices between the logs; the Cock crew\nand took care that they did not oversleep themselves in the mornings,\nand when the house was ready and the roof covered with birch bark and\nthatched with turf, they could at least live by themselves, and they\nwere all both happy and contented.\n\n\"It's pleasant to travel both East and West, but home is, after all, the\nbest,\" said the Ram.\n\nBut a bit farther into the wood two wolves had their lair, and when they\nsaw that a new house had been built hard by they wanted to know what\nsort of folks they had got for neighbors. For they thought, \"a good\nneighbor is better than a brother in a foreign land, and it is better to\nlive among good neighbors than to be known far and wide.\"\n\nSo one of them made it his business to call there and ask for a light\nfor his pipe. The moment he came inside the door the Ram rushed at him,\nand gave him such a butt with his horns that the wolf fell on his head\ninto the hearth; the Pig snapped and bit, the Goose nipped and pecked,\nthe Cock flew up on a rafter and began to crow and cackle, and the Hare\nbecame so frightened that he scampered and jumped around, both high and\nlow, and knocked and scrambled about from one corner of the room to the\nother.\n\nAt last the Wolf managed to get out of the house.\n\n\"Well, to know one's neighbors is to add to one's wisdom,\" said the Wolf\nwho was waiting outside; \"I suppose you had a grand reception, since you\nstayed so long. But what about the light? I don't see either pipe or\nsmoke,\" said he.\n\n\"Yes, that was a nice light I got, and a nice lot of people they were,\"\nsaid he who had been inside. \"Such treatment I never met with before,\nbut 'as you make your bed so you must lie,' and 'an unexpected guest\nmust put up with what he gets,'\" said the Wolf. \"No sooner was I inside\nthe door than the shoemaker threw his last at me, and I fell on my head\nin the middle of the forge; there sat two smiths, blowing bellows and\npinching and snipping bits of flesh off me with red-hot tongs and\npincers; the hunter rushed about the room looking for his gun, but, as\nluck would have it, he couldn't find it. And up on the rafters sat some\none beating his arms about and shouting: 'Let's hook him! let's hook\nhim! Sling him up! sling him up!' and if he had only got hold of me I\nshould never have come out alive.\"\n\n\n\n\n_The Troll's Hammer_\n\n\nWHEN a great famine prevails in a country even the rich suffer. Hard,\nindeed, must the lot of the poor peasant be at such a time.\n\nDuring a famine a poor peasant, unable to support all his family, told\nhis eldest son, Niels, that he would have to go out in the world and\nprovide for himself.\n\nNiels left home and went out to seek his fortune. As the evening of the\nfirst day drew on, he found himself in a dense forest, and fearing lest\nthe wild beasts might do him harm during the night, he climbed into a\ntree. Hardly had he reached his perch, when he saw a little man running\ntoward the tree. He was hunchbacked, and had crooked legs, a long beard,\nand wore on his head a red cap. He was pursued by a wolf, which attacked\nhim just under the tree in which Niels was sitting. The little man began\nto scream; he bit and scratched, and defended himself as well as he\ncould. But the wolf was the stronger, and would have torn the little\nfellow to pieces if Niels had not sprung down from the tree. As soon as\nthe wolf saw that he had two to contend with, he fled back into the\nforest.\n\nThe troll then said to Niels:\n\n\"Thou hast preserved my life and done me a good service; in return I\nwill also give thee something that will be of use. See! here is a hammer\nwith which thou shalt be able to do smith's work that no one shall be\nable to equal.\" When the troll had spoken these words, he sank into the\nground and disappeared.\n\nThe next day the boy wandered on until he came to the neighborhood of\nthe royal palace, and here he engaged himself to a smith.\n\nNow it just happened that a few days before a thief had broken into the\nKing's treasury and stolen a large bag of money. All the smiths in the\ncity were therefore sent for to the palace, and the King promised that\nhe who could make the best lock should be appointed court locksmith, and\nhave a handsome reward into the bargain. The lock had to be finished in\neight days, and so constructed that it could not be picked by anyone.\n\nWhen the smith, with whom Niels lived, returned home and related this,\nthe boy thought he should like to try whether his hammer really\npossessed those qualities which the troll had said. He therefore begged\nhis master to allow him to make a lock, and promised that it should be\nfinished by the appointed time. Although the smith had no great opinion\nof the boy's abilities, he permitted the trial.\n\nNiels then requested a separate workshop, locked himself in, and began\nhammering the iron. One day went, and then another, and the master began\nto be curious; but Niels let no one come into his shop, and the smith\nwas obliged to remain outside, and peep through the keyhole. The work,\nhowever, succeeded far better than the boy himself had expected; and,\nwithout his really knowing how it came to pass, the lock was finished on\nthe evening of the third day.\n\nThe following morning he went down to his master and asked for some\nmoney. \"Yesterday I worked hard,\" said Niels, \"and to-day I will enjoy\nmyself.\"\n\nHe went out of the city, and did not return to the workshop till late in\nthe evening. The next day and the next he did the same, and so through\nthe rest of the week.\n\nHis master was very angry at this, and threatened to turn him away\nunless he finished his work at the appointed time. But Niels told him to\nrest easy, and engaged that his lock should be the best.\n\nWhen the day arrived, Niels brought his work forth, and carried it up to\nthe palace. His lock was so ingenious and so delicately made, that it\nfar excelled all the others. Niels's master was acknowledged as the most\nskillful, and he received the promised office and reward.\n\nThe smith was delighted, but he took good care not to confess to anyone\nwho it was that had made the curious lock. He received one job after\nanother from the King, and let Niels do them all.\n\nIn the meantime the report spread from place to place of the wonderful\nlock the King had got for his treasury. Travelers came from a distance\nto see it, and a foreign King came among them. When he had examined the\nwork a long time he said that the man who had made such a lock deserved\nto be honored and respected.\n\n\"But however good a smith he may be,\" added the foreign King, \"I have\nhis master at home.\"\n\nHe continued boasting in this manner, till at length the two kings made\na wager as to which smith could execute the most skillful piece of\nworkmanship. The smiths were sent for, and the two kings determined that\neach smith should make a knife.\n\nThe smith related to Niels what had passed, and desired him to try\nwhether he could make as good a knife as the lock he had made. Niels\npromised to do so, although his last work had not brought him much. The\nsmith was in truth a mean man, and treated Niels so niggardly that\nsometimes he had not enough to eat and drink.\n\nOne day, as he was out buying steel to make the knife, he met a man from\nhis own village, and, in the course of conversation, Niels learned that\nhis father was in great want and misery. Then he asked his master for\nsome money, but this was the answer: \"You shall not have a shilling\nuntil you have made the knife.\"\n\nThereupon Niels shut himself up in the workshop for a whole day, and, as\non the former occasion, the knife was made without his knowing how it\nhad happened.\n\nWhen the day arrived on which the work was to be exhibited, Niels\ndressed himself in his best clothes, and went with his master up to the\npalace where the two kings were expecting them.\n\nThe strange smith first showed his knife. It was so beautiful, and so\ncuriously wrought, that it was a pleasure to look at; it was, moreover,\nso sharp and well-tempered that it would cut through a millstone as\neasily as through a cheese. Niels's knife, on the contrary, looked very\npoor and common.\n\nThe King already began to think he had lost his wager, and spoke harshly\nto the master-smith, when his boy begged leave to examine the stranger's\nknife a little more closely.\n\nAfter having looked at it for some time, he said: \"This is a beautiful\npiece of workmanship which you have made, and shame on those who would\nsay otherwise; but my master is, nevertheless, your superior, as you\nshall soon experience.\"\n\nSaying this, he took the stranger's knife and split it lengthwise from\npoint to handle with his own knife as easily as one splits a twig of\nwillow. The kings could scarcely believe their eyes, and the consequence\nwas that Niels's master was declared the victor.\n\nWhen Niels asked for payment, the master refused to give him anything,\nalthough knowing full well that the poor boy only wanted the money to\nhelp his father. Upon this Niels grew angry, went to the King, and told\nwho it was that had made both the lock and the knife. The master was\nthen called, but he denied everything, and accused Niels of being an\nidle boy, whom he had taken into service out of charity and compassion.\n\n\"We shall soon find out the truth of this story,\" said the King, who\nsided with the master. \"Since thou sayest it is thou who hast made this\nwonderful knife, and thy master says it is he who has done it, I will\nadjudge each of you to make a sword for me within eight days. He who can\nmake the most perfect one shall be my master-smith; but he who loses\nshall forfeit his life.\"\n\nNiels was well satisfied with this agreement. He went home, packed up\nall his things, and bade his master farewell. The smith would gladly\nhave made all good again, but Neils appeared not to understand him, and\nwent his way. He engaged with another master, and began cheerfully to\nwork on the sword.\n\nWhen the appointed day arrived, both Niels and his former master met at\nthe palace, and the master produced a sword of the most beautiful\nworkmanship that anyone could wish to see. It was inlaid with gold and\nset with precious stones. The King was greatly delighted with it.\n\n\"Now, little Niels,\" said he, \"what dost thou say to this sword?\"\n\n\"It is not so badly made as one might expect from such a bungler,\" said\nthe boy.\n\n\"Canst thou show anything like it?\" asked the King.\n\n\"I believe I can,\" answered Niels.\n\n\"Well, where is thy sword?\" said the King.\n\n\"In my waistcoat pocket,\" replied Niels.\n\nHereupon there was a general laugh which was increased when they saw the\nboy take a little packet out of his waistcoat pocket. Niels opened the\npaper in which the blade was rolled up like a watch-spring. \"Here is my\nwork,\" said he. \"Will you just cut the thread, master?\"\n\nThe smith did it willingly, and in a moment the blade straightened out\nand struck him in the face.\n\nNiels took out of his other pocket a hilt of gold and screwed it fast to\nthe blade; then he presented the sword to the King; and all present were\nobliged to confess that they never before had seen such matchless\nworkmanship.\n\nNiels was declared the victor, and the master was obliged to\nacknowledge that the boy had made both the lock and the knife.\n\nThe King in his indignation would have had the master put to death if\nthe boy had not begged for mercy on the culprit.\n\nNiels received a handsome reward from the King, and from that day all\nthe work from the palace was intrusted to him. He took his old father to\nreside with him, and lived in comfort and happiness till his death.\n\n\n\n\n_The Clever Prince_\n\n\nONCE upon a time there was a youthful Prince who was so wonderfully\nhandsome that no one had ever seen his like; and he knew this, and was\nvery glad of it. And everybody said that he was as clever as he was\nhandsome, and that no one could be compared to him. Of this he was quite\nconvinced, and he made a solemn vow that he would never take any woman\nto wife unless she was as handsome and nearly as clever as he was\nhimself. If he could find such a paragon he would marry her. There were\nmany beautiful maidens in the land, but they were not the cleverest.\nThere were also many maidens who were clever enough, but they were not\nthe fairest. This much is certain, the Prince found no girl who combined\nin her person half enough good looks and wit to suit him. He was now of\nan age when he and his father the King, and their faithful subjects,\nwere all of opinion that he ought to get married; but, as we have seen,\nbecause of the vow he had made, there was not a maiden in the land to\nwhom he could pay his addresses.\n\nSo he determined to journey to other countries, and to travel\n_incognito_ and unattended. He wanted to see things for himself, and to\nhave no one with him who could reveal anything about him. He traveled\nfar and wide, from one land to another, but it fared with him abroad as\nit had fared with him at home; he could find no girl beautiful or\nclever enough for him, much less could he find one who could lay claim\nto the possession of both these attributes. So once more he felt his\nquest for a worthy bride had proved vain, and turned his face homeward.\n\nOne day he was riding through a wood. He rode and rode, still he could\nnot get to the end of the forest. Noonday came, and the evening came,\nand still he was in the wood, and still could see no way out of it. He\nhad completely lost his way; he had no idea where he was, nor where he\nwas going, nor where he should find shelter for the night and food and\nrest for himself and his horse. And they were both tired out. At last he\nsaw a small cloud of blue smoke rising amid the green trees, and riding\ntoward it he soon came to a little cottage, very poor and mean-looking.\nBut he was glad enough, for here at least he should find somebody. He\ngot off his horse and knocked at the door. A poor old man opened it, and\na poor old woman also came forward. They appeared very much astonished\nto see such a fine, handsome young knight. The Prince, after wishing\nthem good evening, said that he had lost his way, and that he had been\nriding through the wood all day long without coming to a dwelling of any\nkind, and now he begged them to give him shelter for the night. At first\nthey said they were not the sort of people to receive such grand\ngentlefolk. It was easy to see they wanted to get rid of him; but when\nhe told them that neither he nor his horse could hold out any longer, so\ngreatly did they need rest and a night's lodging, the old couple had not\nthe heart to refuse, so they agreed to take him in if he would put up\nwith what they could offer him. His first care was for his horse. Stable\nthere was none, but there was a bit of a shed for the old people's cow.\nAs it was summer time the cow was out to grass, so the Prince put his\nhorse up in the shed, and gave him a drink of water and a bundle of hay,\nto the great content of the poor, tired beast. Then he went into the\ncottage, which consisted of one little room, which was both dark and\nlow. He sat down on a wooden bench and began to talk to the old people.\nDid they live here all alone in the wild wood? Yes, the old folk said,\nthey did. There was nobody else in the house, and there was no other\nhouse for miles and miles around. They got on as best they could, and\nmanaged to make a living out of their goat and their cow.\n\nThen the Prince had his supper, the best the house could afford--a crust\nof dry bread and a bowl of milk. The old folk then fetched a wisp of\nstraw and spread it out on the floor, intending to lie upon it--they had\nbut one bed, and they meant to give it up to their grand guest. But the\nPrince would not hear of such a thing; they should sleep in their own\nbed, and he would lie on the bundle of straw that was spread upon the\nfloor. So it was arranged as he wished, and they all three retired to\nrest. It was quite a different sort of couch from the one he was\naccustomed to, but he was thoroughly tired out, so he soon fell asleep,\nand he dreamt of all the beautiful maidens who were not clever enough,\nand of all the clever maidens who were not beautiful enough, and so he\nslept sweetly till the day began to dawn.\n\nThen he awoke, and stiff enough he was in all his limbs from lying on so\nhard a bed; twist and turn as he might, he could not get to sleep again.\nPresently he heard something stirring in the little loft overhead. It\nmight be rats or mice, or perhaps a cat. Yes, it was certainly a cat.\nBut a little while after he heard a whirring sound, exactly like a\nspinning wheel. Then he heard singing. That could not be the cat, nor\nwas it the song of the birds out in the wood; no, it was a woman's sweet\nvoice keeping time with the whirring of the wheel. So sweet a song he\nhad never heard before. He sprang to his feet, rubbed his eyes, pricked\nup his ears, and at the same moment the old folk got up too. The Prince\nat once asked them who it was up there in the loft that had begun\nspinning and singing at break of day. All was quite quiet again overhead\nnow, and the old people persisted, as they had done the previous night,\nthat there was no one in the house but themselves.\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Prince, \"it is no use trying to make me believe that. I\nprefer believing what I have heard with my own ears. And you may as well\ntell me the plain truth, for I am determined to learn it, one way or\nanother.\"\n\nSo then the old man made a clean breast of it. The Prince was quite\nright, there was somebody else in the house--it was their daughter, in\nher little room up in the loft. They were so afraid lest some one should\nsee her and want to take her away from them; for, indeed, they would\nmiss her sadly, old and feeble as they were; she earned a few pence by\nher spinning and weaving. Who else was there to take care of them? Soon\nthey would be no longer able to look after themselves.\n\nWell, the Prince said he had heard her, and now he wanted to see her. He\nwas no man-eater, nor woman-eater either, so far as he knew; therefore\nthey might surely let him see the maiden. So the old man had to go and\ncall her, and she came running down, tripping along, clad in mean\nattire, so blithe and fresh and fair. When she saw the handsome young\nman, she blushed rosy red, and the Prince was thunderstruck as he looked\non her. Never had he seen anything half so lovely as she was! He was\nutterly at a loss what to say or do. In all his travels he had seen no\none to be compared with her. This poor peasant's daughter was far more\nbeautiful than all the princesses and grand ladies he had ever met at\nhome or abroad. He could not picture to himself anything more lovely.\nBut a poor beggar-maid, such as she was, he might not even dream of\nmaking his wife. So he turned resolutely away, and at once bestirred\nhimself, getting his horse ready to start, and would not so much as\nallow himself to look at her again. But when he was in the saddle, just\nsetting off, as he nodded good-by to the old folk, to whom he had given\na broad gold piece for his night's lodging, and who now were bowing and\nscraping before him, he could not help giving a side glance to where she\nstood gazing at him with lovely, wondering eyes. And now, of course, he\nwas obliged to lift his hat and bow \"farewell\"; and as she returned his\ngreeting with downcast eyes, and bowed and blushing face, the Prince\nfelt as if his heart were in his mouth. The lovely eyes looked up once\nmore as he galloped off, and they followed him till he was out of sight.\nAnd not only did they follow him thus far, but long after he had left\nboth house and wood far behind those beautiful eyes still haunted him.\nAnd as he rode along he said to himself:\n\n\"Yes, she is beautiful, and more than beautiful enough for me; but I\nalso vowed that she whom I marry must be as clever, or nearly as clever,\nas I am, and that, of course, she cannot be.\"\n\nHe marked well where the little cottage stood, and soon he reached a\nroad he knew well, for the wild wood lay on the very border of his own\nland. He rode straight home to his father's castle, and told him he had\nnot yet found anyone who could be considered his equal.\n\nThe old King was much vexed on hearing this, but he was so certain of\nhis son's exceeding cleverness that he had no doubt matters were exactly\nas the Prince represented. He had but one wish, to see his son married\nbefore closing his eyes forever, and he had such faith in his son that\nhe knew the Prince's choice of a wife would be a wise one.\n\nSo now the Prince was at home once more, surrounded by all the good\nthings imaginable, and yet he knew not one moment's content. Dainty food\nfailed to tempt his appetite, no sweet sleep came to him on his downy\ncouch. His thoughts were always with the fair young maiden who dwelt in\nthe wild wood. He thought of her early and late, and whether he would or\nnot.\n\nAt last he said to himself: \"There must be an end of this.\"\n\nHe called to mind his vow that the loveliest and cleverest girl should\nbe his bride, and so in order to be rid of all thought of her he\ndetermined to convince himself that although the peasant's daughter\nmight be beautiful enough, yet she was far from being clever enough for\nhim. So he wrote a letter to her, enclosing two skeins of silk, and\nbidding her weave for him with them a pair of bed curtains. He sent off\na royal courier at once, bidding him bring back an immediate answer. The\nmessenger returned the same evening with a letter from the woodland\nmaiden, and in the letter lay two tiny splinters of wood. The maiden had\nwritten that if out of these bits of wood he would make her a loom she\nwould weave him the curtains he had ordered.\n\nAfter this the Prince could no longer doubt that she was quite as clever\nas he was, and now he felt bound to perform the vow that he had made,\nwhich was just what he most wished to do. So he rode forth with all his\nroyal train to the cottage in the wild wood; and he told the old people\nthat he had come to woo their daughter for his bride--if she were\nwilling. And she was willing. The old folk were very down-hearted at\nparting from their child, but they did not wish to stand in the way of\nher happiness, so they gave their consent. Then the court ladies clad\nthe bride in scarlet and silk attire, and adorned her with gold and\njewels. And she had ladies-in-waiting and coaches and carriages and all\nsorts of splendor, and the wedding was celebrated with joy and great\nmagnificence.\n\n\n\n\n\"_Lars, my Lad!_\"\n\n\nTHERE was once a Prince or a Duke, or something of that sort, but at any\nrate he belonged to a very grand family, and he would not stop at home.\nSo he traveled all over the world, and wherever he went he was well\nliked, and was received in the best and gayest families, for he had no\nend of money. He made friends and acquaintances, as you may imagine,\nwherever he went, for he who has a well-filled trough is sure to fall in\nwith pigs who want to have their fill. But he went on spending his money\nuntil he came to want, and at last his purse became so empty that he had\nnot even a farthing left. And now there was an end to all his friends as\nwell, for they behaved like the pigs; when the trough was empty and he\nhad no more to give them, they began to grunt and grin, and then they\nran away in all directions. There he stood alone with a long face.\nEverybody had been so willing to help him to get rid of his money, but\nnobody would help him without it; and so there was nothing for it but to\ntrudge home and beg for crusts on the way.\n\nSo late one evening he came to a great forest. He did not know where he\nshould find a shelter for the night, but he went on looking and\nsearching till he caught sight of an old tumble-down hut, which stood in\nthe middle of some bushes. It was not exactly good enough for such a\nfine cavalier, but when you cannot get what you want you must take what\nyou can get. And, since there was no help for it, he went into the hut.\nNot a living soul was to be seen; there was not even a stool to sit\nupon, but alongside the wall stood a big chest. What could there be\ninside that chest? If only there were some bits of moldy bread in it!\nHow nice they would taste! For, you must know, he had not had a single\nbit of food the whole day, and he was so hungry and his stomach so empty\nthat it groaned with pain. He lifted the lid. But inside the chest there\nwas another chest, and inside that chest there was another; and so it\nwent on, each one smaller than the other, until they became quite tiny\nboxes. The more there were the harder he worked away, for there must be\nsomething very fine inside, he thought, since it was so well hidden.\n\nAt last he came to a tiny, little box, and in this box lay a bit of\npaper--and that was all he got for his trouble! It was very annoying, of\ncourse, but then he discovered there was something written on the paper,\nand when he looked at it he was just able to spell it out, although at\nfirst it looked somewhat difficult.\n\n\"Lars, my lad!\"\n\nAs he pronounced these words something answered right in his ear:\n\n\"What are master's orders?\"\n\nHe looked round, but he saw nobody. This was very funny, he thought, and\nso he read out the words once more:\n\n\"Lars, my lad!\"\n\nAnd the answer came as before:\n\n\"What are master's orders?\"\n\nBut he did not see anybody this time either.\n\n\"If there is anybody about who hears what I say, then be kind enough to\nbring me something to eat,\" he said. And the next moment there stood a\ntable laid out with all the best things one could think of. He set to\nwork to eat and drink, and had a proper meal. He had never enjoyed\nhimself so much in all his life, he thought.\n\nWhen he had eaten all he could get down, he began to feel sleepy, and so\nhe took out the paper again:\n\n\"Lars, my lad!\"\n\n\"What are master's orders?\"\n\n\"Well, you have given me food and drink, and now you must get me a bed\nto sleep in as well. But I want a really fine bed,\" he said, for you\nmust know he was a little more bold now that his hunger was stayed.\nWell, there it stood, a bed so fine and dainty that even the King\nhimself might covet it. Now this was all very well in its way, but when\nonce you are well off you wish for still more, and he had no sooner got\ninto bed than he began to think that the room was altogether too\nwretched for such a grand bed. So he took out the paper again:\n\n\"Lars, my lad!\"\n\n\"What are master's orders?\"\n\n\"Since you are able to get me such food and such a bed here in the midst\nof the wild forest, I suppose you can manage to get me a better room,\nfor you see I am accustomed to sleep in a palace, with golden mirrors\nand draped walls and ornaments and comforts of all kinds,\" he said.\nWell, he had no sooner spoken the words than he found himself lying in\nthe grandest chamber anybody had ever seen.\n\nNow he was comfortable, he thought, and felt quite satisfied as he\nturned his face to the wall and closed his eyes.\n\nBut that was not all the grandeur; for when he woke up in the morning\nand looked round, he saw it was a big palace he had been sleeping in.\nOne room led into the other, and wherever he went the place was full of\nall sorts of finery and luxuries, both on the walls and on the ceilings,\nand they glittered so much when the sun shone on them that he had to\nshade his eyes with his hand, so strong was the glare of gold and silver\nwherever he turned. He then happened to look out of the window. Good\ngracious! How grand it was! There was something else than pine forests\nand juniper bushes to look at, for there was the finest garden anyone\ncould wish for, with splendid trees and roses of all kinds. But he could\nnot see a single human being, or even a cat; and that, you know, was\nrather lonely, for otherwise he had everything so grand and had been set\nup as his own master again.\n\nSo he took out the bit of paper:\n\n\"Lars, my lad!\"\n\n\"What are master's orders?\"\n\n\"Well, now you have given me food and bed and a palace to live in, I\nintend to remain here, for I like the place,\" he said, \"yet I don't like\nto live quite by myself. I must have both lads and lasses whom I may\norder about to wait upon me,\" he said.\n\nAnd there they were. There came servants and stewards and scullery maids\nand chambermaids of all sorts, and some came bowing and some curtseying.\nSo now the Duke thought he was really satisfied.\n\nBut now it happened that there was a large palace on the other side of\nthe forest, and there the King lived who owned the forest, and the\ngreat, big fields around it. As he was walking up and down in his room\nhe happened to look out through the window and saw the new palace, where\nthe golden weathercocks were swinging to and fro on the roof in the\nsunlight, dazzling his eyes.\n\n\"This is very strange,\" he thought; and so he called his courtiers. They\ncame rushing in, and began bowing and scraping.\n\n\"Do you see the palace over there?\" said the King.\n\nThey opened their eyes and began to stare.\n\nYes, of course, they saw it.\n\n\"Who is it that has dared to build such a palace on my grounds?\" said\nthe King.\n\nThey bowed, and they scraped with their feet, but they did not know\nanything about it.\n\nThe King then called his generals and captains.\n\nThey came, stood at attention and presented arms.\n\n\"Be gone, soldiers and troopers,\" said the King, \"and pull down the\npalace over there, and hang him who has built it; and don't lose any\ntime about it!\"\n\nWell, they set off in great haste to arm themselves, and away they went.\nThe drummers beat the skins of their drums, and the trumpeters blew\ntheir trumpets, and the other musicians played and blew as best they\ncould, so that the Duke heard them long before he could see them. But he\nhad heard that kind of noise before, and knew what it meant, so he took\nout his scrap of paper:\n\n\"Lars, my lad!\"\n\n\"What are master's orders?\"\n\n\"There are soldiers coming here,\" he said, \"and now you must provide me\nwith soldiers and horses, that I may have double as many as those over\nin the wood, and with sabers and pistols, and guns and cannons with all\nthat belongs to them; but be quick about it.\"\n\nAnd no time was lost; for when the Duke looked out, he saw an immense\nnumber of soldiers, who were drawn up around the palace.\n\nWhen the King's men arrived, they came to a sudden halt and dared not\nadvance. But the Duke was not afraid; he went straight up to the Colonel\nof the King's soldiers and asked him what he wanted.\n\nThe Colonel told him his errand.\n\n\"It's of no use,\" said the Duke. \"You see how many men I have; and if\nthe King will listen to me, we shall become good friends, and I will\nhelp him against his enemies, and in such a way that it will be heard\nof far and wide,\" he said.\n\nThe Colonel was of the same opinion, and the Duke then invited him and\nall his soldiers inside the palace, and the men had more than one glass\nto drink and plenty of everything to eat as well.\n\nBut while they were eating and drinking they began talking; and the Duke\nthen got to hear that the King had a daughter who was his only child,\nand was so wonderfully fair and beautiful that no one had ever seen her\nlike before. And the more the King's soldiers ate and drank the more\nthey thought she would suit the Duke for a wife.\n\nAnd they went on talking so long that the Duke at last began to be of\nthe same opinion. \"The worst of it,\" said the soldiers, \"is that she is\njust as proud as she is beautiful, and will never look at a man.\"\n\nBut the Duke laughed at this. \"If that's all,\" said the Duke, \"there's\nsure to be a remedy for that complaint.\"\n\nWhen the soldiers had eaten and drunk as much as they could find room\nfor, they shouted \"Hurrah!\" so that it echoed among the hills, and then\nthey set out homeward. But, as you may imagine, they did not walk\nexactly in parade order, for they were rather unsteady about the knees,\nand many of them did not carry their guns in regulation manner. The Duke\nasked them to greet the King from him. He would call on him the\nfollowing day, he said.\n\nWhen the Duke was alone again, he began to think of the Princess, and to\nwonder if she were as beautiful and fair as they had made her out to be.\nHe would like to make sure of it; and as so many strange things had\nhappened that day it might not be impossible to find that out as well,\nhe thought.\n\n\"Lars, my lad!\"\n\n\"What are master's orders?\"\n\n\"Well, now you must bring me the King's daughter as soon as she has gone\nto sleep,\" he said; \"but she must not be awakened either on the way here\nor back. Do you hear that?\" he said. And before long the Princess was\nlying on the bed. She slept so soundly and looked so wonderfully\nbeautiful as she lay there. Yes, she was as sweet as sugar, I can tell\nyou.\n\nThe Duke walked round about her, but she was just as beautiful from\nwhatever point of view he looked at her.\n\nThe more he looked the more he liked her.\n\n\"Lars, my lad!\"\n\n\"What are master's orders?\"\n\n\"You must now carry the Princess home,\" he said, \"for now I know how she\nlooks, and to-morrow I will ask for her hand,\" he said.\n\nNext morning the King looked out of the window. \"I suppose I shall not\nbe troubled with the sight of that palace any more,\" he thought. But,\nzounds! There it stood just as on the day before, and the sun shone so\nbrightly on the roof, and the weathercocks dazzled his eyes.\n\nHe now became furious, and called all his men.\n\nThey came quicker than usual.\n\nThe courtiers bowed and scraped, and the soldiers stood at attention and\npresented arms.\n\n\"Do you see the palace there?\" screamed the King.\n\nThey stretched their necks, and stared and gaped.\n\nYes, of course, that they did.\n\n\"Have I not ordered you to pull down the palace and hang the builder?\"\nhe said.\n\nYes, they could not deny that; but then the Colonel himself stepped\nforward and reported what had happened and how many soldiers the Duke\nhad, and how wonderfully grand the palace was.\n\nAnd next he told him what the Duke had said, and how he had asked him to\ngive his greetings to the King, and all that sort of thing.\n\nThe King felt quite confused, and had to put his crown on the table and\nscratch his head. He could not understand all this, although he was a\nking; for he could take his oath it had all been built in a single\nnight; and if the Duke were not the evil one himself, he must in any\ncase have done it by magic.\n\nWhile he sat there pondering, the Princess came into the room.\n\n\"Good morning to you, father!\" she said. \"Just fancy, I had such a\nstrange and beautiful dream last night!\" she said.\n\n\"What did you dream then, my girl?\" said the King.\n\n\"I dreamed I was in the new palace over yonder, and that I saw a Duke\nthere, so fine and handsome that I could never have imagined the like;\nand now I want to get married, father,\" she said.\n\n\"Do you want to get married?--you, who never cared to look at a man!\nThat's very strange!\" said the King.\n\n\"That may be,\" said the Princess; \"but it's different now, and I want to\nget married, and it's the Duke I want,\" she said.\n\nThe King was quite beside himself, so frightened did he become of the\nDuke.\n\nBut all of a sudden he heard a terrible noise of drums and trumpets and\ninstruments of all kinds; and then came a message that the Duke had just\narrived with a large company, all of whom were so grandly dressed that\ngold and silver glistened in every fold. The King put on his crown and\nhis coronation robes, and then went out on the steps to receive them.\nAnd the Princess was not slow to follow him.\n\nThe Duke bowed most graciously, and the King of course did likewise, and\nwhen they had talked awhile about their affairs and their grandeur they\nbecame the best of friends. A great banquet was then prepared, and the\nDuke was placed next to the Princess at the table. What they talked\nabout is not easy to tell, but the Duke spoke so well for himself that\nthe Princess could not very well say \"No\" to anything he said, and then\nhe went up to the King and asked for her hand. The King could not\nexactly say \"No\" either, for he could very well see that the Duke was a\nperson with whom it was best to be on friendly terms; but give his\nsanction there and then, he could not very well do that either. He\nwanted to see the Duke's palace first, and find out about the state of\naffairs over there, as you may understand.\n\nSo it was arranged that he should visit the Duke and take the Princess\nwith him to see his palace; and with this they parted company.\n\nWhen the Duke returned home, Lars became busier than ever, for there was\nso much to attend to. But he set to work and strove hard; and when the\nKing and his daughter arrived everything was so magnificent and splendid\nthat no words can describe it. They went through all the rooms and\nlooked about, and they found everything as it should be, and even still\nmore splendid, thought the King, and so he was quite pleased.\n\nThe wedding then took place, and that in grand style; and on the Duke's\narrival home with his bride he, too, gave a great feast, and then there\nwas an end to the festivities.\n\nSome time passed by, and one evening the Duke heard these words:\n\n\"Are you satisfied now?\"\n\nIt was Lars, as you may guess, but the Duke could not see him.\n\n\"Well, I ought to be,\" said the Duke. \"You have provided me with\neverything I have,\" he said.\n\n\"Yes, but what have I got in return?\" asked Lars.\n\n\"Nothing,\" said the Duke; \"but, bless me, what could I have given you,\nwho are not of flesh and blood, and whom I cannot see either?\" he said.\n\"But if there is anything I can do for you, tell me what it is, and I\nshall do it.\"\n\n\"Well, I should like to ask you for that little scrap of paper which you\nfound in the chest,\" said Lars.\n\n\"Nothing else?\" said the Duke. \"If such a trifle can help you, I can\neasily do without it, for now I begin to know the words by heart,\" he\nsaid.\n\nLars thanked the Duke, and asked him to put the paper on the chair in\nfront of the bed when he retired to rest, and he would be sure to fetch\nit during the night.\n\nThe Duke did as he was told; and so he and the Princess lay down and\nwent to sleep.\n\nBut early in the morning the Duke awoke and felt so cold that his teeth\nchattered, and when he had got his eyes quite open he found he was quite\nnaked and had not even as much as a thread on his back; and instead of\nthe grand bed and the beautiful bedroom, and the magnificent palace, he\nlay on the big chest in the old tumble-down hut.\n\nHe began to shout:\n\n\"Lars, my lad!\" But he got no answer. He shouted once more:\n\n\"Lars, my lad!\" But he got no answer this time either. So he shouted all\nhe could:\n\n\"Lars, my lad!\" But it was all in vain.\n\nNow he began to understand how matters stood. When Lars had got the\nscrap of paper he was freed from service at the same time, and now he\nhad taken everything with him, But there was no help for it. There stood\nthe Duke in the old hut quite naked; and as for the Princess she was not\nmuch better off, although she had her clothes on, for she had got them\nfrom her father, so Lars had no power over them.\n\nThe Duke had now to tell the Princess everything, and ask her to leave\nhim. He would have to manage as best he could, he said. But she would\nnot hear of it. She well remembered what the parson had said when he\nmarried them, and she would never, never leave him, she said.\n\nIn the meantime the King in his palace had also awakened, and when he\nlooked out of the window he did not see any sign whatever of the other\npalace where his daughter and son-in-law lived. He became uneasy, as you\nmay imagine, and called his courtiers.\n\nThey came in, and began to bow and scrape.\n\n\"Do you see the palace over yonder behind the forest?\" he asked.\n\nThey stretched their necks and stared with all their might.\n\nNo, they did not see it.\n\n\"Where has it gone to, then?\" asked the King.\n\nWell, really they did not know.\n\nIt was not long before the King set out with all his court through the\nforest; and when he arrived at the place where the palace with the\nbeautiful gardens should have been, he could not see anything but\nheather and juniper bushes and firs. But then he discovered the old\ntumble-down hut, which stood there among the bushes. He entered the hut\nand--mercy on us!--what a sight met his eyes! There stood his\nson-in-law, quite naked, and his daughter, who had not very many clothes\non either, and who was crying and moaning.\n\n\"Dear, dear! what does all this mean?\" said the King; but he did not get\nany answer, for the Duke would rather have died than tell him.\n\nThe King did his utmost to get him to speak; but in spite of all the\nKing's promises and threats the Duke remained obstinate and would not\nutter a word.\n\nThe King then became angry--and no wonder, for now he could see that\nthis grand Duke was not what he pretended to be, and so he ordered the\nDuke to be hanged, and that without any loss of time. The Princess\nbegged and prayed for mercy; but neither prayers nor tears were of any\nhelp now; for an impostor he was, and as an impostor he should die, said\nthe King.\n\nAnd so it had to be. They erected a gallows, and placed the rope round\nthe Duke's neck. But while they were getting the gallows ready, the\nPrincess got hold of the hangman, and gave both him and his assistant\nsome money, that they should so manage the hanging of the Duke that he\nshould not lose his life, and in the night they were to cut him down, so\nthat he and the Princess might then flee the country. And that's how the\nmatter was arranged.\n\nIn the meantime they had strung up the Duke, and the King and his court\nand all the people went their way.\n\nThe Duke was now in great straits. He had, however, plenty of time to\nreflect how foolish he had been in not saving some of the crumbs when he\nwas living in plenty, and how unpardonably stupid he had been in letting\nLars have the scrap of paper. This vexed him more than all. If only he\nhad it again, he thought, they should see he had been gaining some sense\nin return for all he had lost. But it is of little use snarling if you\nhaven't got any teeth. \"Ah, well, well!\" he sighed, and so he dangled\nhis legs, which was really all he could do.\n\nThe day passed slowly and tediously for him, and he was not at all\ndispleased when he saw the sun setting behind the forest. But just\nbefore it disappeared he heard a fearful shouting, and when he looked\ndown the hill, he saw seven cartloads of worn-out shoes, and on the top\nof the hindmost cart he saw a little old man in gray clothes and with a\nred pointed cap on his head. His face was like that of the worst\nscarecrow, and the rest of him was not very handsome either.\n\nHe drove straight up to the gallows, and when he arrived right under it\nhe stopped and looked up at the Duke, and then burst out laughing, the\nugly old fellow!\n\n\"How stupid you were!\" he said; \"but what should the fool do with his\nstupidity if he did not make use of it?\" And then he laughed again.\n\"Yes, there you are hanging now, and here am I carting away all the\nshoes I have worn out for your whims. I wonder if you can read what is\nwritten on this bit of paper, and if you recognize it?\" he said with an\nugly laugh, holding up the paper before the Duke's eyes.\n\nBut all who hang are not dead, and this time it was Lars who was\nbefooled.\n\nThe Duke made a clutch, and snatched the paper from him.\n\n\"Lars, my lad!\"\n\n\"What are master's orders?\"\n\n\"Well, you must cut me down from the gallows and put the palace and all\nthe rest in its place again, exactly as it was before, and when the\nnight has set in you must bring back the Princess.\"\n\nAll went merrily as in a dance, and before long everything was in its\nplace, just as it was when Lars took himself off.\n\nWhen the King awoke the next morning he looked out of the window, as was\nhis custom, and there stood the palace again, with the weathercocks\nglittering so beautifully in the sunshine. He called his courtiers, and\nthey came and began to bow and scrape.\n\nThey stretched their necks as far as they could, and stared and gaped.\n\n\"Do you see the palace over there?\" said the King.\n\nYes, of course, they did.\n\nThe King then sent for the Princess, but she was not to be found. He\nthen went out to see if his son-in-law was still hanging on the gallows,\nbut neither son-in-law nor gallows was to be seen.\n\nHe had to lift off his crown and scratch his head. But that did not\nimprove matters; he could not make head or tail of either one thing or\nthe other. He set off at once with all his court through the forest, and\nwhen he came to the place where the palace should stand, there it stood\nsure enough. The gardens and the roses were exactly as they used to be,\nand the Duke's people were to be seen everywhere among the trees. His\nson-in-law and his daughter received him on the steps, dressed in their\nfinest clothes.\n\n\"Well, I never saw the like of this,\" said the King to himself; he could\nscarcely believe his own eyes, so wonderful did it all seem to him.\n\n\"God's peace be with you, father, and welcome here!\" said the Duke.\n\nThe King stood staring at him.\n\n\"Are you my son-in-law?\" he asked.\n\n\"Well, I suppose I am,\" said the Duke. \"Who else should I be?\"\n\n\"Did I not order you to be hanged yesterday like any common thief?\" said\nthe King.\n\n\"I think you must have been bewitched on the way,\" said the Duke, with a\nlaugh. \"Do you think I am the man to let myself be hanged? Or is there\nanyone here who dares to believe it?\" he said, and looked so fiercely at\nthe courtiers that they felt as if they were being pierced through and\nthrough.\n\nThey bowed and scraped and cringed before him.\n\nWho could believe such a thing? Was it at all likely?\n\n\"Well, if there is anyone who dares to say the King could have wished me\nsuch evil, let him speak out,\" said the Duke, and fixed his eyes upon\nthem still more fiercely than before.\n\nThey went on bowing and scraping and cringing.\n\nHow could anyone dare to say such a thing? No, they had more sense than\nthat, they should hope.\n\nThe King did not know what to believe, for when he looked at the Duke he\nthought he never could have wished him such evil; but still he was not\nquite convinced.\n\n\"Did I not come here yesterday, and was not the whole palace gone, and\nwas there not an old hut in its place? And did not I go into that hut,\nand did not you stand stark naked right before my eyes?\" he asked.\n\n\"I wonder the King can talk so,\" said the Duke. \"I think the trolls must\nhave bewitched your eyes in the forest and made you quite crazy; or what\ndo you think?\" he said, and turned round to the courtiers.\n\nThey bowed and bowed till their backs were bent double, and agreed with\neverything he said, there could be no mistake about that. The King\nrubbed his eyes, and looked round about him.\n\n\"I suppose it is as you say, then,\" he said to the Duke, \"and it is well\nI have got back my proper sight and have come to my senses again. For it\nwould have been a sin and a shame if I had let you be hanged,\" he said;\nand so he was happy again, and nobody thought any more about the\nmatter.\n\n\"Once bitten, twice shy,\" as the proverb says; and the Duke now took\nupon himself to manage and look after most of his affairs, so that it\nwas seldom Lars had to wear out his shoes. The King soon gave the Duke\nhalf the kingdom into the bargain; so he had now plenty to do, and\npeople said they would have to search a long time to find his equal in\nwise and just ruling.\n\nThen one day Lars came to the Duke, looking very little better than the\nfirst time he had seen him; but he was, of course, more humble, and did\nnot dare to giggle and make grimaces.\n\n\"You do not want my help any longer, now,\" he said; \"for although I did\nwear out my shoes at first, I am now unable to wear out a single pair,\nand my feet will soon be covered all over with moss. So I thought I\nmight now get my leave of absence,\" he said.\n\nThe Duke quite agreed with him. \"I have tried to spare you, and I almost\nthink I could do without you,\" he said. \"But the palace and all the rest\nI do not want to lose, for such a clever builder as you I shall never\nget again; nor do I ever want to adorn the gallows again, as you can\nwell understand; so I cannot give you back the paper on any account,\" he\nsaid.\n\n\"Well, as long as you have got it, I need not fear,\" said Lars; \"but if\nanybody else should get hold of it there will be nothing but running and\ntrudging about again, and that's what I want to avoid; for when one has\nbeen tramping about for a thousand years, as I have done, one begins to\nget tired of it,\" he said.\n\nBut they went on talking, and at last they agreed that the Duke should\nput the paper in the box, and then bury it seven ells under the ground,\nunder a stone fixed in the earth. They then gave mutual thanks for the\ntime they had spent in each other's company, and so they parted.\n\nThe Duke carried out his part of the agreement, for he was not likely\nto want to change it. He lived happy and contented with the Princess,\nand they had both sons and daughters. When the King died, he got the\nwhole of the kingdom, and you may guess he was none the worse off for\nthat; and there no doubt he still lives and reigns, if he is not dead.\n\nBut as for that box with the scrap of paper in it, there are many who\nare still running about looking for it.\n\n\n\n\n_Twigmuntus, Cowbelliantus, Perchnosius_\n\n\nONCE upon a time there was a king who was so very learned that no parson\nin the whole world could surpass him; in fact, he was so learned that\nordinary folks could hardly understand what he said, nor could he\nunderstand them either. But in order to have some one to talk with he\nprocured seven wise professors, who were not quite so learned as\nhimself, but who were just able to interpret his learned sayings so that\npeople could apprehend them, and who could twist and turn about the talk\nof ordinary folk so that it became sufficiently learned and complicated\nfor the King to understand it.\n\nThe King had no son, but he had a daughter, and in order that she should\nbe happily married, and the country governed according to the\nfundamental principles of his learning, he issued an edict that he who\nwas so learned as to put the King and his professors to silence should\nhave his daughter and half the kingdom there and then. But anyone who\nattempted the task and did not succeed should lose his head for having\ndared to exchange words with the King.\n\nThat was no joke; but the Princess was so fair and beautiful that it was\nno joke to gaze at her either. And the King did not keep her caged up,\nfor anyone who wished could see her.\n\nThere came princes and counts and barons and parsons and doctors and\nlearned persons from all quarters of the world; and no sooner did they\nsee the Princess than they one and all wanted to try their luck. But,\nhowever learned they were, their learning never proved sufficient, and\neveryone of them lost his head.\n\nOver in a corner of the kingdom there lived a farmer who had a son. This\nlad was not stupid; he was quick of apprehension and sharp-witted, and\nhe was not afraid of anything.\n\nWhen the King's edict came to this out-of-the-way place, and the parson\nhad read it from the pulpit, the lad wanted to try his luck. \"He who\nnothing risks, nothing wins,\" thought the lad; and so he went to the\nparson and told him that if he would give him lessons in the evenings,\nhe would work for this worship in the daytime, but he wanted to become\nso learned that he could try a bout with the King and his professors.\n\n\"Whoever means to compete with them must be able to do something more\nthan munch bread,\" said the parson.\n\n\"That may be,\" said the lad; \"but I'll try my luck.\"\n\nThe parson thought, of course, that he was mad; but when he could get\nsuch a clever hand to work for him only for his keep, he thought he\ncould not very well say no; and so the lad got what he wanted.\n\nHe worked for the parson in the daytime, and the parson read with him in\nthe evening; and in this way they went on for some time, but at last the\nlad grew tired of his books.\n\n\"I am not going to sit here and read and grind away, and lose what few\nwits I have,\" he said; \"and it won't be of much help either, for if you\nare lucky things will come right of themselves, and if you are not lucky\nyou'll never make a silk purse out of a sow's ear.\"\n\nAnd with this he pitched the books on the shelf and went his way.\n\nAll at once he came to a large forest, where the trees and the bushes\nwere so thick that it was with difficulty he could get along. While he\nwas thus pushing his way through, he began wondering what he should say\nwhen he came to the king's palace, and how best he could make use of the\nlearning he had picked up from the parson. All of a sudden the twig of\na tree struck him across his mouth, so that his teeth rattled.\n\n\"That is Twigmuntus,\" he said.\n\nA little while after he came to a meadow where a cow was standing\nbellowing so furiously that it almost deafened him.\n\n\"That is Cowbelliantus,\" he said.\n\nHe then came to a river; but as there was neither bridge nor planks\nacross it, he had to put his clothes on his head and swim across.\n\nWhile he was swimming a perch came and bit him on the nose.\n\n\"That is Perchnosius,\" he said.\n\nAt last he came to the King's palace, where things did not look at all\npleasant, for there were men's heads stuck on long stakes round about,\nand they grinned so horribly that they were enough to frighten anyone\nout of his wits. But the lad was not easily frightened.\n\n\"God's peace!\" he said, and raised his cap. \"There you stick and grin at\nme; but who knows if I may not be keeping you company before the day is\nover, and be grinning with you at others? But if I happen to be alive,\nyou shall not stick there any longer gaping at people,\" he said.\n\nSo he went up to the palace and knocked at the gate.\n\nThe guard came out and asked what he wanted.\n\n\"I have come to try my luck with the Princess,\" said the lad.\n\n\"You?\" said the guard, \"well, you're a likely one, you are! Have you\nlost your senses? There have been princes and counts and barons and\nparsons and doctors and learned persons here, and all of them have had\nto pay with their heads for that pleasure; and yet you think you'll\nsucceed!\" he said.\n\n\"I should say it is no concern of yours,\" said the lad; \"just open the\ngate, and you'll see one who's not afraid of anything.\"\n\nBut the guard would not let him in.\n\n\"Do as I tell you,\" said the lad, \"or there'll be a fine to-do!\"\n\nBut the guard would not.\n\nThe lad then seized him by the collar and flung him against the wall so\nthat it creaked; and then he walked straight in to the King, who sat in\nhis parlor with his seven professors about him. Their faces were long\nand thin, and they looked like puny, sickly persons about to die. They\nwere sitting with their heads on one side, meditating and staring at the\nfloor.\n\nThen one of them, who looked up, asked the lad in ordinary language:\n\"Who are you?\"\n\n\"A suitor,\" said the lad.\n\n\"Do you want to try for the Princess's hand?\"\n\n\"Well, that's about it!\" said the lad.\n\n\"Have you lost your wits? There have been princes and counts and barons\nand parsons and doctors and learned persons here, and all of them have\ngone headless away; so you had better turn about and get away while your\nhead is on your shoulders,\" he said.\n\n\"Don't trouble yourself on that account, but rather think of the head on\nyour own shoulders,\" said the lad. \"You look after yours, and I'll take\ncare of mine! So just begin and let me hear how much wit you have got,\nfor I don't think you look so very clever,\" he said.\n\nThe first professor then began a long harangue of gibberish; and when he\nhad finished the second went on; and then the third; and in this way\nthey continued till at length it was the turn of the seventh. The lad\ndid not understand a single word of it all, but he didn't lose courage\nfor all that. He only nodded his approval to all of it.\n\nWhen the last had finished his harangue he asked:\n\n\"Can you reply to that?\"\n\n\"That's easy enough,\" said the lad. \"Why, when I was in my cradle and in\nmy go-cart I could twist my mouth about and prate and jabber like you,\"\nhe said. \"But since you are so terribly learned, I'll put a question to\nyou, and that shall not be a long one:\n\n\"Twigmuntus, Cowbelliantus, Perchnosius? Can you give me an answer to\nthat?\"\n\nAnd now you should have seen how they stretched their necks and\nstrained their ears. They put on their spectacles and began to look into\ntheir books and turn over the leaves.\n\nBut while they were searching and meditating, the lad put his hands in\nhis trousers pockets, and looked so frank and fearless that they could\nnot help admiring him, and wondering that one who was so young could be\nso learned and yet look just like other people.\n\n\"Well, how are you getting on?\" said the lad. \"Cannot all your learning\nhelp you to open your mouths, so that I can have an answer to my\nquestion?\" he said.\n\nThen they began to ponder and meditate, and then they glanced at the\nceiling, and then they stared at the walls, and then they fixed their\neyes upon the floor. But they could not give him any answer, nor could\nthe King himself, although he was much more learned than all the others\ntogether. They had to give it up, and the lad got the Princess and half\nthe kingdom. This he ruled in his own way, and if it did not fare\nbetter, it did not fare worse for him than for the King with all his\nfundamental principles.\n\n\n\n\n_Master Tobacco_\n\n\nONCE upon a time there was a poor woman who went about begging with her\nson; for at home she had neither a morsel to eat nor a stick to burn.\nFirst she tried the country, and went from parish to parish; but it was\npoor work, and so she came into the town. There she went about from\nhouse to house for a while, and at last she came to the Lord Mayor. He\nwas both open-hearted and open-handed, and he was married to the\ndaughter of the richest merchant in the town, and they had one little\ndaughter. As they had no more children, you may fancy she was sugar and\nspice and all that's nice, and in a word there was nothing too good for\nher. This little girl soon came to know the beggar boy as he went about\nwith his mother; and as the Lord Mayor was a wise man, as soon as he\nsaw what friends the two were, he took the boy into his house that he\nmight be his daughter's playmate. Yes, they played and read and went to\nschool together, and never had so much as one quarrel.\n\n[Illustration: \"AND WHEN HE SET HER DOWN HE GAVE HER A KISS\"]\n\nOne day the Lady Mayoress stood at the window, and watched the children\nas they were trudging off to school. There had been a shower of rain,\nand the street was flooded, and she saw how the boy first carried the\nbasket with their dinner over the stream, and then he went back and\nlifted the little girl over, and when he set her down he gave her a\nkiss.\n\nWhen the Lady Mayoress saw this, she got very angry. \"To think of such a\nragamuffin kissing our daughter--we who are the best people in the\nplace!\" That was what she said. Her husband did his best to stop her\ntongue. \"No one knew,\" he said, \"how children would turn out in life, or\nwhat might befall his own. The boy was a clever, handy lad, and often\nand often a great tree sprang from a slender plant.\"\n\nBut no! it was all the same, whatever he said and whichever way he put\nit. The Lady Mayoress held her own, and said beggars on horseback always\nrode their cattle to death, and that no one had ever heard of a silk\npurse being made out of a sow's ear; adding, that a penny would never\nturn into a shilling, even though it glittered like a guinea. The end of\nit all was that the poor lad was turned out of the house, and had to\npack up his rags and be off.\n\nWhen the Lord Mayor saw there was no help for it, he sent him away with\na trader who had come thither with a ship, and he was to be cabin boy on\nboard her. He told his wife he had sold the boy for a roll of tobacco.\n\nBut before he went the Lord Mayor's daughter broke her ring into two\nbits and gave the boy one bit, that it might be a token to know him by\nif they ever met again; and so the ship sailed away, and the lad came to\na town, far, far off in the world, and to that town a priest had just\ncome who was so good a preacher that everyone went to church to hear\nhim, and the crew of the ship went with the rest the Sunday after to\nhear the sermon. As for the lad, he was left behind to mind the ship and\nto cook the dinner. So while he was hard at work he heard some one\ncalling out across the water on an island. So he took the boat and rowed\nacross, and there he saw an old hag, who called and roared.\n\n\"Aye,\" she said, \"you have come at last! Here have I stood a hundred\nyears calling and bawling, and thinking how I should ever get over this\nwater; but no one has ever heard or heeded but you, and you shall be\nwell paid if you will put me over to the other side.\"\n\nSo the lad had to row her to her sister's house, who lived on a hill on\nthe other side close by; and when they got there, she told him to beg\nfor the old tablecloth which lay on the dresser. Yes! he would beg for\nit; and when the old witch who lived there knew that he had helped her\nsister over the water, she said he might have whatever he chose to ask.\n\n\"Oh,\" said the boy, \"then I won't have anything else than that old\ntablecloth on the dresser yonder.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said the old witch, \"that you never asked out of your own wits.\"\n\n\"Now I must be off,\" said the lad, \"to cook the Sunday dinner for the\nchurch-goers.\"\n\n\"Never mind that,\" said the first old hag; \"it will cook itself while\nyou are away. Stop with me, and I will pay you better still. Here have I\nstood and called and bawled for a hundred years, but no one has ever\nheeded me but you.\"\n\nThe end was he had to go with her to another sister, and when he got\nthere the old hag said he was to be sure and ask for the old sword,\nwhich was such that he could put it into his pocket and it became a\nknife, and when he drew it out it was a long sword again. One edge was\nblack and the other white, and if he smote with the black edge\neverything fell dead, and if with the white everything came to life\nagain. So when they came over, and the second old witch heard how he had\nhelped her sister across, she said he might have anything he chose to\nask for her fare.\n\n\"Oh,\" said the lad, \"then I will have nothing else but that old sword\nwhich hangs up over the cupboard.\"\n\n\"That you never asked out of your own wits,\" said the old witch; but for\nall that he got the sword.\n\nThen the old hag said again: \"Come on with me to my third sister. Here\nhave I stood and called and bawled for a hundred years, and no one has\nheeded me but you. Come on to my third sister, and you shall have better\npay still.\"\n\nSo he went with her, and on the way she told him he was to ask for the\nold hymn book; and that was such a book that when anyone was sick and\nthe nurse sang one of the hymns, the sickness passed away, and they were\nwell again. Well! when they got across, and the third old witch heard he\nhad helped her sister across, she said he was to have whatever he chose\nto ask for his fare.\n\n\"Oh,\" said the lad, \"then I won't have anything else but granny's old\nhymn book.\"\n\n\"That,\" said the old hag, \"you never asked out of your own wits.\"\n\nWhen he got back to the ship the crew were still at church, so he tried\nhis tablecloth, and spread just a little bit of it out, for he wanted to\nsee what good it was before he laid it on the table. Yes! in a trice it\nwas covered with good food and strong drink, enough and to spare. So he\njust took a little snack, and then he gave the ship's dog as much as it\ncould eat.\n\nWhen the church-goers came on board, the captain said: \"Wherever did you\nget all that food for the dog? Why, he's as round as a sausage, and as\nlazy as a snail.\"\n\n\"Oh, if you must know,\" said the lad, \"I gave him the bones.\"\n\n\"Good boy,\" said the captain, \"to think of the dog.\"\n\nSo he spread out the cloth, and at once the whole table was covered all\nover with such brave meat and drink as they had never before seen in all\ntheir born days.\n\nNow when the boy was again alone with the dog, he wanted to try the\nsword, so he smote at the dog with the black edge, and it fell dead on\nthe deck; but when he turned the blade and smote with the white edge\nthe dog came to life again and wagged his tail and fawned on his\nplaymate. But the book--that he could not get tried just then.\n\nThen they sailed well and far till a storm overtook them which lasted\nmany days, so they lay to and drove till they were quite out of their\ncourse, and could not tell where they were. At last the wind fell, and\nthen they came to a country far, far off that none of them knew; but\nthey could easily see there was great grief there, as well there might\nbe, for the King's daughter was a leper. The King came down to the\nshore, and asked was there anyone on board who could cure her and make\nher well again.\n\n\"No, there was not.\" That was what they all said who were on deck.\n\n\"Is there no one else on board the ship than those I see?\" asked the\nKing.\n\n\"Yes; there's a little beggar boy.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the King, \"let him come on deck.\"\n\nSo when he came and heard what the King wanted, he said he thought he\nmight cure her; and then the captain got so wroth and mad with rage that\nhe ran round and round like a squirrel in a cage, for he thought the boy\nwas only putting himself forward to do something in which he was sure to\nfail, and he told the King not to listen to such childish chatter.\n\nBut the King only said that wit came as children grew, and that there\nwas the making of a man in every bairn. The boy had said he could do it,\nand he might as well try. After all, there were many who had tried and\nfailed before him. So he took him home to his daughter, and the lad sang\na hymn once. Then the Princess could lift her arm. Once again he sang\nit, and she could sit up in bed. And when he had sung it thrice, the\nKing's daughter was as well as you and I are.\n\nThe King was so glad he wanted to give him half his kingdom and the\nprincess to wife.\n\n\"Yes,\" said the lad, \"land and power are fine things to have half of,\"\nand was very grateful; \"but as for the Princess, he was betrothed to\nanother,\" he said, \"and he could not take her to wife.\"\n\nSo he stayed there awhile and got half the kingdom; and when he had not\nbeen very long there, war broke out, and the lad went out to battle with\nthe rest, and you may fancy he did not spare the black edge of his\nsword. The enemy's soldiers fell before him like flies, and the King won\nthe day. But when they had conquered, he turned the white edge, and they\nall rose up alive and became the King's soldiers, who had granted them\ntheir lives. But then there were so many of them that they were badly\noff for food, though the King wished to send them away full, both of\nmeat and drink. So the lad had to bring out his tablecloth, and then\nthere was not a man that lacked anything.\n\nNow when he had lived a little longer with the King, he began to long to\nsee the Lord Mayor's daughter. So he fitted out four ships of war and\nset sail; and when he came off the town where the Lord Mayor lived, he\nfired off his cannon like thunder, till half the panes of glass in the\ntown were shivered. On board those ships everything was as grand as in a\nKing's palace; and as for himself, he had gold on every seam of his\ncoat, so fine he was. It was not long before the Lord Mayor came down to\nthe shore and asked if the foreign lord would not be so good as to come\nup and dine with him. \"Yes, he would go,\" he said; and so he went up to\nthe Mansion House where the Lord Mayor lived, and there he took his seat\nbetween the Lady Mayoress and her daughter.\n\nSo as they sat there in the greatest state, and ate and drank and were\nmerry, he threw the half of the ring into the daughter's glass, and no\none saw it; but she was not slow to find out what he meant, and excused\nherself from the feast and went out and fitted his half to her half. Her\nmother saw there was something in the wind and hurried after her as fast\nas she could.\n\n\"Do you know who that is in there, mother?\" said the daughter.\n\n\"No!\" said the Lady Mayoress.\n\n\"He whom papa sold for a roll of tobacco,\" said the daughter.\n\nAt these words the Lady Mayoress fainted and fell down flat on the\nfloor.\n\nIn a little while the Lord Mayor came out to see what was the matter,\nand when he heard how things stood he was almost as uneasy as his wife.\n\n\"There is nothing to make a fuss about,\" said Master Tobacco. \"I have\nonly come to claim the little girl I kissed as we were going to school.\"\n\nBut to the Lady Mayoress he said:\n\n\"You should never despise the children of the poor and needy, for none\ncan tell how they may turn out; since there is the making of a man in\nevery child of man, and wit and wisdom come with growth and strength.\"\n\n\n\n\n_The History of Tom Thumb_\n\n\nIN the days of the great Prince Arthur there lived a mighty magician,\ncalled Merlin, the most learned and skillful enchanter the world has\never seen.\n\nThis famous magician, who could take any form he pleased, was traveling\nabout as a poor beggar, and being very tired, he stopped at the cottage\nof a plowman to rest himself, and asked for some food.\n\nThe countryman bade him welcome, and his wife, who was a very\ngood-hearted woman, soon brought him some milk in a wooden bowl, and\nsome coarse brown bread on a platter.\n\nMerlin was much pleased with the kindness of the plowman and his wife;\nbut he could not help noticing that though everything was neat and\ncomfortable in the cottage, they both seemed to be very unhappy. He\ntherefore asked them why they were so melancholy, and learned that they\nwere miserable because they had no children.\n\nThe poor woman said, with tears in her eyes: \"I should be the happiest\ncreature in the world if I had a son; although he was no bigger than my\nhusband's thumb, I would be satisfied.\"\n\nMerlin was so much amused with the idea of a boy no bigger than a man's\nthumb that he determined to grant the poor woman's wish. Accordingly, in\na short time after, the plowman's wife had a son, who, wonderful to\nrelate, was not a bit bigger than his father's thumb!\n\nThe queen of the fairies, wishing to see the little fellow, came in at\nthe window while the mother was sitting up in the bed admiring him. The\nqueen kissed the child, and, giving it the name of Tom Thumb, sent for\nsome of the fairies, who dressed her little godson according to her\norders:\n\n An oak-leaf hat he had for his crown;\n His shirt of web by spiders spun,\n With jacket wove of thistle's down.\n His trousers were of feathers done;\n His stockings, of apple-rind, they tie\n With eyelash from his mother's eye;\n His shoes were made of mouse's skin,\n Tann'd with the downy hair within.\n\nTom never grew any larger than his father's thumb, which was only of\nordinary size; but as he got older he became very cunning and full of\ntricks. When he was old enough to play with the boys, and had lost all\nhis own cherry stones, he used to creep into the bags of his\nplayfellows, fill his pockets, and, getting out without their noticing\nhim, would again join in the game.\n\nOne day, however, as he was coming out of a bag of cherry stones, where\nhe had been stealing as usual, the boy to whom it belonged chanced to\nsee him. \"Ah, ah! my little Tommy,\" said the boy, \"so I have caught you\nstealing my cherry stones at last, and you shall be rewarded for your\nthievish tricks.\" On saying this, he drew the string tight round his\nneck, and gave the bag such a hearty shake that poor little Tom's legs,\nthighs, and body were sadly bruised. He roared loud with pain, and\nbegged to be let out, promising never to steal again.\n\nA short time afterwards his mother was making a batter-pudding, and Tom,\nbeing very anxious to see how it was made, climbed up to the edge of the\nbowl; but his foot slipped, and he plumped over head and ears into the\nbatter, without his mother noticing him, who stirred him into the\npudding-bag, and put him in the pot to boil.\n\nThe batter filled Tom's mouth and prevented him from crying; but, on\nfeeling the hot water, he kicked and struggled so much in the pot that\nhis mother thought that the pudding was bewitched, and, pulling it out\nof the pot, she threw it outside the door. A poor tinker, who was\npassing by, lifted up the pudding, and, then putting it into his budget,\nwalked off. As Tom had now got his mouth cleared of the batter, he then\nbegan to cry aloud, which so frightened the tinker that he flung down\nthe pudding and ran away. The pudding being broken to pieces by the\nfall, Tom crept out, covered all over with the batter, and walked home.\nHis mother, who was very sorry to see her darling in such a woeful\nstate, put him into a teacup and soon washed off the batter; after which\nshe kissed him, and laid him in bed.\n\nSoon after the adventure of the pudding, Tom's mother went to milk her\ncow in the meadow, and she took him along with her. As the wind was very\nhigh, for fear of being blown away, she tied him to a thistle with a\npiece of fine thread. The cow soon observed Tom's oak-leaf hat, and\nliking the appearance of it, took poor Tom and the thistle at one\nmouthful. While the cow was chewing the thistle, Tom was afraid of her\ngreat teeth, which threatened to crush him in pieces, and he roared out\nas loud as he could: \"Mother, mother!\"\n\n\"Where are you, Tommy, my dear Tommy?\" said his mother.\n\n\"Here, mother,\" replied he, \"in the red cow's mouth.\"\n\nHis mother began to cry and wring her hands; but the cow, surprised at\nthe odd noise in her throat, opened her mouth and let Tom drop out.\nFortunately his mother caught him in her apron as he was falling to the\nground, or he would have been dreadfully hurt. She then put Tom in her\nbosom and ran home with him.\n\nTom's father made him a whip of a barley straw to drive the cattle with,\nand having one day gone into the fields, Tom slipped a foot and rolled\ninto the furrow. A raven, which was flying over, picked him up, and flew\nwith him over the sea, and there dropped him.\n\nA large fish swallowed Tom the moment he fell into the sea, which was\nsoon after caught and bought for the table of King Arthur. When they\nopened the fish in order to cook it, everyone was astonished at finding\nsuch a little boy, and Tom was quite delighted at being free again. They\ncarried him to the King, who made Tom his dwarf, and he soon grew a\ngreat favorite at court; for by his tricks and gambols he not only\namused the King and Queen, but also all the Knights of the Round Table.\n\nIt is said that when the King rode out on horseback he often took Tom\nalong with him, and if a shower came on he used to creep into his\nmajesty's waistcoat pocket, where he slept till the rain was over.\n\nKing Arthur one day asked Tom about his parents, wishing to know if they\nwere as small as he was, and whether they were well off. Tom told the\nKing that his father and mother were as tall as anybody about the court,\nbut in rather poor circumstances. On hearing this the King carried Tom\nto his treasury, the place where he kept all his money, and told him to\ntake as much money as he could carry home to his parents, which made the\npoor little fellow caper with joy. Tom went immediately to procure a\npurse, which was made of a water bubble, and then returned to the\ntreasury, where he received a silver threepenny-piece to put into it.\n\nOur little hero had some difficulty in lifting the burden upon his back;\nbut he at last succeeded in getting it placed to his mind, and set\nforward on his journey. However, without meeting with any accident, and\nafter resting himself more than a hundred times by the way, in two days\nand two nights he reached his father's house in safety.\n\nTom had traveled forty-eight hours with a huge silver-piece on his back,\nand was almost tired to death, when his mother ran out to meet him, and\ncarried him into the house. But he soon returned to court.\n\nAs Tom's clothes had suffered much in the batter-pudding and the inside\nof the fish, his majesty ordered him a new suit of clothes and to be\nmounted as a knight on a mouse.\n\n Of butterfly's wings his shirt was made,\n His boots of chicken's hide;\n And by a nimble fairy blade,\n Well learned in the tailoring trade,\n His clothing was supplied.\n A needle dangled by his side;\n A dapper mouse he used to ride,\n Thus strutted Tom in stately pride!\n\nIt was certainly very diverting to see Tom in this dress and mounted on\nthe mouse as he rode out a-hunting with the King and nobility, who were\nall ready to expire with laughter at Tom and his fine prancing charger.\n\nThe King was so charmed with his address that he ordered a little chair\nto be made, in order that Tom might sit upon his table, and also a\npalace of gold, a span high, with a door an inch wide, to live in. He\nalso gave him a coach, drawn by six small mice.\n\nThe Queen was so enraged at the honors conferred on Sir Thomas that she\nresolved to ruin him, and told the King that the little knight had been\nsaucy to her.\n\nThe King sent for Tom in great haste, but being fully aware of the\ndanger of royal anger, he crept into an empty snail shell, where he lay\nfor a long time, until he was almost starved with hunger; but at last he\nventured to peep out, and seeing a fine large butterfly on the ground\nnear the place of his concealment, he got close to it, and jumping\nastride on it was carried up into the air. The butterfly flew with him\nfrom tree to tree and from field to field, and at last returned to the\ncourt, where the King and nobility all strove to catch him; but at last\npoor Tom fell from his seat into a watering pot, in which he was almost\ndrowned.\n\nWhen the Queen saw him she was in a rage, and said he should be\nbeheaded; and he was again put into a mouse trap until the time of his\nexecution.\n\nHowever, a cat, observing something alive in the trap, patted it about\ntill the wires broke, and set Thomas at liberty.\n\nThe King received Tom again into favor, which he did not live to enjoy,\nfor a large spider one day attacked him; and although he drew his sword\nand fought well, yet the spider's poisonous breath at last overcame him.\n\n He fell dead on the ground where he stood,\n And the spider suck'd every drop of his blood.\n\nKing Arthur and his whole court were so sorry at the loss of their\nlittle favorite that they went into mourning and raised a fine white\nmarble monument over his grave with the following epitaph:\n\n Here lies Tom Thumb, King Arthur's knight,\n Who died by a spider's cruel bite.\n He was well known in Arthur's court,\n Where he afforded gallant sport;\n He rode a tilt and tournament,\n And on a mouse a-hunting went.\n Alive he filled the court with mirth;\n His death to sorrow soon gave birth.\n Wipe, wipe your eyes, and shake your head\n And cry,--Alas! Tom Thumb is dead!\n\n\n\n\n_Tattercoats_\n\n\nIN a great palace by the sea there once dwelt a very rich old lord who\nhad neither wife nor children living, only one little granddaughter,\nwhose face he had never seen in all her life. He hated her bitterly,\nbecause at her birth his favorite daughter died; and when the old nurse\nbrought him the baby he swore that it might live or die as it liked, but\nhe would never look on its face as long as it lived.\n\nSo he turned his back and sat by his window looking out over the sea,\nand weeping great tears for his lost daughter, till his white hair and\nbeard grew down over his shoulders and twined round his chair and crept\ninto the chinks of the floor, and his tears, dropping on to the window\nledge, wore a channel through the stone and ran away in a little river\nto the great sea. And meanwhile his granddaughter grew up with no one to\ncare for her or clothe her; only the old nurse, when no one was by,\nwould sometimes give her a dish of scraps from the kitchen or a torn\npetticoat from the rag bag; while the other servants of the palace would\ndrive her from the house with blows and mocking words, calling her\n\"Tattercoats,\" and pointing at her bare feet and shoulders, till she ran\naway crying, to hide among the bushes.\n\nAnd so she grew up, with little to eat or wear, spending her days in the\nfields and lanes, with only the gooseherd for a companion, who would\nplay to her so merrily on his little pipe when she was hungry or cold or\ntired that she forgot all her troubles, and fell to dancing, with his\nflock of noisy geese for partners.\n\nBut one day people told each other that the King was traveling through\nthe land, and in the town near by was to give a great ball to all the\nlords and ladies of the country, when the Prince, his only son, was to\nchoose a wife.\n\nOne of the royal invitations was brought to the palace by the sea, and\nthe servants carried it up to the old lord who still sat by his window,\nwrapped in his long white hair and weeping into the little river that\nwas fed by his tears.\n\nBut when he heard the King's command he dried his eyes and bade them\nbring shears to cut him loose, for his hair had bound him a fast\nprisoner and he could not move. And then he sent them for rich clothes\nand jewels, which he put on; and he ordered them to saddle the white\nhorse with gold and silk that he might ride to meet the King.\n\nMeanwhile Tattercoats had heard of the great doings in the town, and she\nsat by the kitchen door weeping because she could not go to see them.\nAnd when the old nurse heard her crying she went to the lord of the\npalace, and begged him to take his granddaughter with him to the King's\nball.\n\nBut he only frowned and told her to be silent, while the servants\nlaughed and said: \"Tattercoats is happy in her rags, playing with the\ngooseherd; let her be--it is all she is fit for.\"\n\n[Illustration: TATTERCOATS FORGOT ALL HER TROUBLES AND FELL TO DANCING]\n\nA second, and then a third time, the old nurse begged him to let the\ngirl go with him, but she was answered only by black looks and fierce\nwords, till she was driven from the room by the jeering servants with\nblows and mocking words.\n\nWeeping over her ill success, the old nurse went to look for\nTattercoats; but the girl had been turned from the door by the cook, and\nhad run away to tell her friend the gooseherd how unhappy she was\nbecause she could not go to the King's ball.\n\nBut when the gooseherd had listened to her story he bade her cheer up,\nand proposed that they should go together into the town to see the King\nand all the fine things; and when she looked sorrowfully down at her\nrags and bare feet he played a note or two upon his pipe, so gay and\nmerry that she forgot all about her tears and her troubles, and, before\nshe well knew, the herdboy had taken her by the hand, and she and he,\nand the geese before them, were dancing down the road toward the town.\n\nBefore they had gone very far a handsome young man, splendidly dressed,\nrode up and stopped to ask the way to the castle where the King was\nstaying; and when he found that they too were going thither, he got\noff his horse and walked beside them along the road.\n\nThe herdboy pulled out his pipe and played a low, sweet tune, and the\nstranger looked again and again at Tattercoats' lovely face, till he\nfell deeply in love with her and begged her to marry him.\n\nBut she only laughed and shook her golden head.\n\n\"You would be finely put to shame if you had a goosegirl for your wife!\"\nsaid she; \"go and ask one of the great ladies you will see to-night at\nthe King's ball, and do not flout poor Tattercoats.\"\n\nBut the more she refused him the sweeter the pipe played and the deeper\nthe young man fell in love, till at last he begged her, as a proof of\nhis sincerity, to come that night at twelve to the King's ball, just as\nshe was, with the herdboy and his geese, and in her torn petticoat and\nbare feet, and he would dance with her before the King and the lords and\nladies, and present her to them all as his dear and honored bride.\n\nSo when night came, and the hall in the castle was full of light and\nmusic, and the lords and ladies were dancing before the King, just as\nthe clock struck twelve, Tattercoats and the herdboy, followed by his\nflock of noisy geese, entered at the great doors and walked straight up\nthe ballroom, while on either side the ladies whispered, the lords\nlaughed, and the King, seated at the far end, stared in amazement.\n\nBut as they came in front of the throne Tattercoats' lover rose from\nbeside the King and came to meet her. Taking her by the hand, he kissed\nher thrice before them all, and turned to the King.\n\n\"Father,\" he said, for it was the Prince himself, \"I have made my\nchoice, and here is my bride, the loveliest girl in all the land, and\nthe sweetest as well!\"\n\nBefore he had finished speaking the herdboy put his pipe to his lips and\nplayed a few low notes that sounded like a bird singing far off in the\nwoods; and as he played, Tattercoats' rags were changed to shining robes\nsewn with glittering jewels, a golden crown lay upon her golden hair,\nand the flock of geese behind her became a crowd of dainty pages\nbearing her long train.\n\nAnd, as the King rose to greet her as his daughter, the trumpets sounded\nloudly in honor of the new Princess, and the people outside in the\nstreet said to each other:\n\n\"Ah, now the Prince has chosen for his wife the loveliest girl in all\nthe land!\"\n\nBut the gooseherd was never seen again, and no one knew what became of\nhim; while the old lord went home once more to his palace by the sea,\nfor he could not stay at court when he had sworn never to look on his\ngranddaughter's face.\n\nSo there he still sits by his window, if you could only see him, as you\nsome day may, weeping more bitterly than ever, as he looks out over the\nsea.\n\n\n\n\n_History of Jack the Giant-Killer_\n\n\nIN the reign of the famous King Arthur there lived in Cornwall a lad\nnamed Jack, who was a boy of a bold temper and took delight in hearing\nor reading of conjurers, giants, and fairies, and used to listen eagerly\nto the deeds of the Knights of King Arthur's Round Table.\n\nIn those days there lived on St. Michael's Mount, off Cornwall, a huge\ngiant, eighteen feet high and nine feet round, and whose fierce and\nsavage looks were the terror of all who beheld him.\n\nHe dwelt in a gloomy cavern on the top of the mountain, and used to wade\nover to the mainland in search of prey, when he would throw half a dozen\noxen upon his back, tie three times as many sheep and hogs around his\nwaist, and march back to his own abode.\n\nThe giant had done this for many years, when Jack resolved to destroy\nhim.\n\nJack took a horn, a shovel, a pickax, his armor, and a dark lantern, and\none winter's evening he went to the mount. There he dug a pit\ntwenty-two feet deep and twenty broad. He covered the top over so as to\nmake it look like solid ground. He then blew such a tantivy that the\ngiant awoke and came out of his den, with a cry: \"You saucy villain, you\nshall pay for this! I'll broil you for my breakfast!\"\n\nHe had just finished, when, taking one step farther, he tumbled headlong\ninto the pit, and Jack struck him a blow on the head with his pickax\nthat killed him. Jack then returned home to cheer his friends with the\nnews.\n\nAnother giant, called Blunderbore, vowed to be revenged on Jack if ever\nhe should have him in his power. This giant kept an enchanted castle in\nthe midst of a lonely wood, and some time after the death of Cormoran,\nJack was passing through a wood, and being weary sat down and went to\nsleep.\n\nThe giant, passing by and seeing Jack, carried him to his castle, where\nhe locked him up in a large room, the floor of which was covered with\nthe bodies, skulls, and bones of men and women.\n\nSoon after the giant went to fetch his brother, who was likewise a\ngiant, to take a meal off his flesh, and Jack saw with terror through\nthe bars of his prison the two giants approaching.\n\nJack, perceiving in one corner of the room a strong cord, took courage,\nand making a slipknot at each end, he threw them over their heads and\ntied it to the window bars; he then pulled till he had choked them. When\nthey were black in the face he slid down the rope and quickly disposed\nof them.\n\nJack next took a great bunch of keys from the pocket of Blunderbore and\nwent into the castle again. He made a strict search through all the\nrooms, and in one of them found three ladies tied up by the hair of\ntheir heads and almost starved to death. They told him that their\nhusbands had been killed by the giants, who had then condemned them to\nbe starved to death, because they would not eat the flesh of the\ncaptives he brought in.\n\n\"Ladies,\" said Jack, \"I have put an end to the monster and his wicked\nbrother, and I give you this castle and all the riches it contains, to\nmake some amends for the dreadful pains you have felt.\" He then very\npolitely gave them the keys of the castle and went farther on his\njourney to Wales.\n\nAs Jack had but little money he went on as fast as possible. At length\nhe came to a handsome house. Jack knocked at the door, when there came\nforth a Welsh giant. Jack said he was a traveler who had lost his way,\non which the giant made him welcome and let him into a room where there\nwas a good bed to sleep in.\n\nJack took off his clothes quickly, but though he was wear he could not\ngo to sleep. Soon after this he heard the giant walking backward and\nforward in the next room and saying to himself:\n\n \"Though here you lodge with me this night,\n You shall not see the morning light;\n My club shall dash your brains out quite.\"\n\n\"Say you so?\" thought Jack. \"Are these your tricks upon travelers? But I\nhope to prove as cunning as you are.\" Then, getting out of bed, he\ngroped about the room, and at last found a large thick billet of wood.\nHe laid it in his own place in the bed and then hid himself in a dark\ncorner of the room.\n\nThe giant, about midnight, entered the apartment, and with his bludgeon\nstruck many blows on the bed, in the very place where Jack had laid the\nlog; and then he went back to his own room, thinking he had broken all\nJack's bones.\n\nEarly in the morning Jack put a bold face upon the matter and walked\ninto the giant's room to thank him for his lodging. The giant started\nwhen he saw him and began to stammer out: \"Oh, dear me! Is it you? Pray\nhow did you sleep last night? Did you hear or see anything in the dead\nof the night?\"\n\n\"Nothing worth speaking of,\" said Jack carelessly. \"A rat, I believe,\ngave me three or four slaps with its tail and disturbed me a little, but\nI soon went to sleep again.\"\n\nThe giant wondered more and more at this, yet he did not answer a word,\nbut went to bring two great bowls of hasty pudding for their breakfast.\nJack wanted to make the giant believe that he could eat as much as\nhimself, so he contrived to button a leathern bag inside his coat and\nslip the hasty pudding into this bag, while he seemed to put it into his\nmouth.\n\nWhen breakfast was over he said to the giant: \"Now I will show you a\nfine trick. I can cure all wounds with a touch. I could cut off my head\nin one minute and the next put it sound again on my shoulders. You shall\nsee an example.\" He then took hold of the knife, ripped up the leathern\nbag, and all the hasty pudding tumbled out upon the floor.\n\n\"Ods splutter hur nails!\" cried the Welsh giant, who was ashamed to be\noutdone by such a little fellow as Jack, \"hur can do that hurself.\" So\nhe snatched up the knife, plunged it into his own stomach, and in a\nmoment dropped down dead.\n\nJack, having hitherto been successful in all his undertakings, resolved\nnot to be idle in future. He therefore furnished himself with a horse, a\ncap of knowledge, a sword of sharpness, shoes of swiftness, and an\ninvisible coat, the better to perform the wonderful enterprises that lay\nbefore him.\n\nHe traveled over high hills, and on the third day he came to a large and\nspacious forest through which his road lay. Scarcely had he entered the\nforest when he beheld a monstrous giant dragging along by the hair of\ntheir heads a handsome knight and his lady. Jack alighted from his\nhorse, and tying him to an oak tree, put on his invisible coat, under\nwhich he carried his sword of sharpness.\n\nWhen he came up to the giant he made several strokes at him, but could\nnot reach his body, though he wounded his thighs in several places; and\nat length putting both hands to his sword and aiming with all his\nmight, he cut off both his legs. Then Jack, setting his foot upon the\ngiant's neck, plunged his sword into the great body, when the monster\ngave a groan and expired.\n\n[Illustration: \"THE GIANT AND THE CONJURER NOW KNEW THAT THEIR WICKED\nCOURSE WAS AT AN END\"]\n\nThe knight and his lady thanked Jack for their deliverance and invited\nhim to their house, to receive a proper reward for his services. \"No,\"\nsaid Jack, \"I cannot be easy till I find out this monster's habitation.\"\nSo taking the knight's directions, he mounted his horse and soon after\ncame in sight of another giant, who was sitting on a block of timber\nwaiting for his brother's return.\n\nJack alighted from his horse and, putting on his invisible coat,\napproached and aimed a blow at the giant's head, but missing his aim he\nonly cut off his nose. On this the giant seized his club and laid about\nhim most unmercifully.\n\n\"Nay,\" said Jack, \"if this be the case I'd better dispatch you!\" So\njumping upon the block he stabbed him in the back, when he dropped down\ndead.\n\nJack then proceeded on his journey and traveled over hills and dales,\ntill arriving at the foot of a high mountain he knocked at the door of a\nlonely house, when an old man let him in.\n\nWhen Jack was seated, the hermit thus addressed him: \"My son, on the top\nof this mountain is an enchanted castle, kept by the giant Galligantus\nand a vile magician. I lament the fate of a duke's daughter, whom they\nseized as she was walking in her father's garden and brought hither\ntransformed into a deer.\"\n\nJack promised that in the morning, at the risk of his life, he would\nbreak the enchantment, and after a sound sleep he arose early, put on\nhis invisible coat, and made ready for the attempt.\n\nWhen he had climbed to the top of the mountain he saw two fiery\ngriffins, but he passed between them without the least fear of danger,\nfor they could not see him because of his invisible coat. On the castle\ngate he found a golden trumpet, under which were written these lines:\n\n \"Whoever can this trumpet blow\n Shall cause the giant's overthrow.\"\n\nAs soon as Jack had read this he seized the trumpet and blew a shrill\nblast, which made the gates fly open and the very castle itself tremble.\n\nThe giant and the conjurer now knew that their wicked course was at an\nend, and they stood biting their thumbs and shaking with fear. Jack,\nwith his sword of sharpness, soon killed the giant, and the magician was\nthen carried away by a whirlwind; and every knight and beautiful lady\nwho had been changed into birds and beasts returned to their proper\nshapes. The castle vanished away like smoke, and the head of the giant\nGalligantus was then sent to King Arthur.\n\nThe knights and ladies rested that night at the old man's hermitage, and\nnext day they set out for the court. Jack then went up to the King and\ngave his majesty an account of all his fierce battles.\n\nJack's fame had now spread through the whole country, and at the King's\ndesire the duke gave him his daughter in marriage, to the joy of all his\nkingdom. After this the King gave him a large estate, on which he and\nhis lady lived the rest of their days in joy and contentment.\n\n\n\n\n_Yvon and Finette_\n\nA TALE OF BRITTANY\n\n\nI\n\nONCE upon a time there lived in Brittany a noble lord, who was called\nthe Baron Kerver. His manor house was the most beautiful in the\nprovince. It was a great Gothic castle, with a groined roof and walls,\ncovered with carving, that looked at a distance like a vine climbing\nover an arbor. On the first floor six stained glass balcony windows\nlooked out on each side toward the rising and the setting sun. In the\nmorning when the Baron, mounted on his dun mare, went forth into the\nforest, followed by his tall greyhounds, he saw at each window one of\nhis daughters, with prayer book in hand, praying for the house of\nKerver, and who, with their fair curls, blue eyes, and clasped hands,\nmight have been taken for six madonnas in an azure niche. At evening\nwhen the sun declined and the Baron returned homeward, after riding\nround his domains, he perceived from afar, in the windows looking toward\nthe west, six sons, with dark locks and eagle gaze, the hope and pride\nof the family, who might have been taken for six sculptured knights at\nthe portal of a church. For ten leagues round all who wished to quote a\nhappy father and a powerful lord named the Baron Kerver.\n\nThe castle had but twelve windows, and the Baron had thirteen children.\nThe last, the one that had no place, was a handsome boy of sixteen by\nthe name of Yvon. As usual, he was the best beloved. In the morning at\nhis departure, and at evening on his return, the Baron always found Yvon\nwaiting on the threshold to embrace him. With his fair hair falling to\nhis waist, his graceful figure, his willful air, and his bold bearing,\nYvon was beloved by all the Bretons. At twelve years of age he had\nbravely attacked and killed a wolf with an ax, which had won him the\nname of _Fearless_. He deserved the title, for never was there a bolder\nheart.\n\nOne day, when the Baron had stayed at home, and was amusing himself by\nbreaking a lance with his squire, Yvon entered the armory in a traveling\ndress, and, bending one knee to the ground:\n\n\"My lord and father,\" said he to the Baron, \"I come to ask your\nblessing. The house of Kerver is rich in knights, and has no need of a\nchild; it is time for me to go to seek my fortune. I wish to go to\ndistant countries to try my strength, and to make myself a name.\"\n\n\"You are right, Fearless,\" replied the Baron, more moved than he wished\nto appear. \"I will not keep you back; I have no right to do so; but you\nare very young, my child; perhaps it would be better for you to stay\nanother year with us.\"\n\n\"I am sixteen, my father; at that age you had already fought one of the\nproudest lords of the country. I have not forgotten that our arms are a\nunicorn ripping up a lion, and our motto, \"Onward!\" I do not wish the\nKervers to blush for their last child.\"\n\nYvon received his father's blessing, shook hands with his brothers,\nembraced his sisters, bade adieu to all the weeping vassals, and set out\nwith a light heart.\n\nNothing stopped him on his way. A river appeared, he swam it; a\nmountain, he climbed it; a forest, he made his way through it with the\nsun for a guide. \"_On--the Kerver!_\" he cried, whenever he met with an\nobstacle, and went straight forward in spite of everything.\n\nFor three years he had been roaming over the world in search of\nadventures, sometimes conquering, sometimes conquered, always bold and\ngay, when he received an offer to go to fight the heathen of Norway. To\nkill unbelievers and to conquer a kingdom was a double pleasure. Yvon\nenlisted twelve brave comrades, freighted a ship, and hoisted from the\nmainmast a blue standard, with the unicorn and motto of the Kervers.\n\nThe sea was calm, the wind fair, and the night serene. Yvon, stretched\non the deck, watched the stars, and sought the one which cast its\ntrembling light on his father's castle. All at once the vessel struck\nupon a rock; a terrible crash was heard; the sails fell like tinder; and\nan enormous wave burst over the deck, and swept away everything upon it.\n\n\"_On--the Kerver!_\" cried Yvon, as soon as his head appeared above the\nwater; and he began to swim as tranquilly as if he had been bathing in\nthe lake of the old castle. Happily the moon was rising. Yvon saw, at a\nlittle distance, a black speck among the silvery waves--it was land. He\napproached it, not without difficulty, and finally succeeded in gaining\na foothold. Dripping wet, exhausted with fatigue, and out of breath, he\ndragged himself on the sand; then, without more anxiety, said his\nprayers, and went to sleep.\n\n\nII\n\nIN the morning, on awaking, Yvon tried to discover in what country he\nhad been cast. He saw in the distance a house as large as a church, with\nwindows fifty feet in height. He walked a whole day before reaching it,\nand at last found himself in front of an immense door, with a knocker so\nheavy that it was impossible for a man to lift it.\n\nYvon took a great stone and began to knock. \"Come in,\" cried a voice,\nthat sounded like the roar of a bull. At the same instant the door\nopened, and the little Breton found himself in the presence of a giant\nnot less than forty feet in height.\n\n\"What is your name, and what do you want here?\" said the giant, taking\nup Yvon between his thumb and finger, and lifting him from the ground so\nas to see him better.\n\n\"My name is Fearless, and I am seeking my fortune,\" answered Yvon,\nlooking at the monster with an air of defiance.\n\n\"Well, brave Fearless, your fortune is made,\" said the giant, in a\nmocking tone. \"I am in need of a servant, and I will give you the place.\nYou can go to work directly. This is the time for leading my sheep to\nthe pasture; you may clean the stable while I am gone. I shall give you\nnothing else to do,\" added he, bursting into a laugh. \"You see that I am\na good master. Do your task, and, above all things, don't prowl about\nthe house, or it will cost you your life.\"\n\n\"Certainly I have a good master; the work is not hard,\" thought Yvon,\nwhen the giant was gone. \"I have plenty of time to sweep the stable.\nWhat shall I do meanwhile to amuse myself? Shall I look about the house?\nSince I am forbidden to do so, it must be because there is something to\nsee.\"\n\nHe entered the first room, and saw a large fireplace, in which a great\npot was hanging, suspended from a hook. The pot was boiling, but there\nwas no fire on the hearth.\n\n\"What does this mean?\" thought Yvon; \"there is some mystery here.\" He\ncut off a lock of his hair, dipped it into the pot, and took it out all\ncoated with copper.\n\n\"Oh, oh!\" cried he, \"this is a new kind of soup; anybody that swallows\nit must have an iron-clad stomach.\"\n\nHe went into the next room; there also a pot was suspended from a hook,\nand boiling without fire. Yvon dipped a lock of hair into it, and took\nit out all coated with silver.\n\n\"The broth is not so rich as this in the Kerver kitchen,\" thought he,\n\"but it may have a better taste.\"\n\nUpon this, he entered the third room. There also a pot was suspended\nfrom a hook, and boiling without fire. Yvon dipped a lock of hair into\nit, and took it out all coated with gold. It shone so brightly that it\nmight have been mistaken for a sunbeam.\n\n\"Good!\" cried he. \"In our country the old women have a saying,\n'Everything gets worse and worse'; here it is just the contrary,\neverything gets better and better. What shall I find in the fourth room,\nI wonder--diamond soup?\"\n\nHe pushed open the door, and saw something rarer than precious stones.\nThis was a young woman of such marvelous beauty that Yvon, dazzled, fell\non his knees at the sight.\n\n\"Unfortunate youth!\" cried she, in a trembling voice, \"what are you\ndoing here?\"\n\n\"I belong to the house,\" answered Yvon; \"the giant took me into his\nservice this morning.\"\n\n\"His service!\" repeated the young girl. \"May Heaven preserve you from\nit!\"\n\n\"Why so?\" said Yvon. \"I have a good master; the work is not hard. The\nstable once swept, my task is finished.\"\n\n\"Yes, and how will you set to work to sweep it?\" asked the lady. \"If you\nsweep it in the usual way, for every forkful of dung that you throw out\nof the door, ten will come in at the window. But I will tell you what to\ndo. Turn the fork and sweep with the handle, and the dung will instantly\nfly out of itself.\"\n\n\"I will obey,\" said Yvon; upon which he sat down by the young girl and\nbegan to talk with her. She was the daughter of a fairy, whom the\nwretched giant had made his slave. Friendship soon springs up between\ncompanions in misfortune. Before the end of the day, Finette (for that\nwas the lady's name) and Yvon had already promised to belong to each\nother, if they could escape from their abominable master. The difficulty\nwas to find the means.\n\nTime passes quickly in this kind of talk. Evening was approaching when\nFinette sent away her new friend, advising him to sweep the stable\nbefore the giant came home.\n\nYvon took down the fork and attempted to use it as he had seen it done\nat his father's castle. He soon had enough of it. In less than a second\nthere was so much dung in the stable that the poor boy knew not which\nway to turn. He did as Finette had bid him; he turned the fork and swept\nwith the handle, when behold! in the twinkling of an eye, the stable was\nas clean as if no cattle had ever entered it.\n\nThe task finished, Yvon seated himself on a bench before the door of the\nhouse. As soon as he saw the giant coming, he lolled back in his seat,\ncrossed his legs, and began to sing one of his native airs.\n\n\"Have you cleaned the stable?\" asked the giant, with a frown.\n\n\"Everything is ready, master,\" answered Yvon, without troubling himself\nto move.\n\n\"I am going to see for myself,\" howled the giant. He entered the stable\ngrumbling, found everything in order, and came out furious.\n\n\"You have seen my Finette,\" cried he; \"this trick did not come from your\nown head!\"\n\n\"What is myfinette?\" asked Yvon, opening his mouth and shutting his\neyes. \"Is it one of the animals that you have in this country? Show it\nto me, master.\"\n\n\"Hold your tongue, fool,\" replied the giant; \"you will see her sooner\nthan you will want to.\"\n\nThe next morning the giant gathered his sheep together to lead them to\nthe pasture; but, before setting out, he ordered Yvon to go in the\ncourse of the day in search of his horse, which was turned out to graze\non the mountain. \"After that,\" said he, bursting into a laugh, \"you can\nrest all day long. You see that I am a good master. Do your task; and,\nabove all things, don't prowl about the house, or I will cut off your\nhead.\"\n\nYvon winked his eye as the giant left. \"Yes, you are a good master,\"\nsaid he between his teeth. \"I understand your tricks; but, in spite of\nyour threats, I shall go into the house, and talk with your Finette. It\nremains to be seen whether she will not be more mine than yours.\"\n\nHe ran to the young girl's room. \"Hurrah!\" cried he; \"I have nothing to\ndo all day but to go to the mountain after a horse.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said Finette; \"how will you set to work to ride him?\"\n\n\"A fine question,\" returned Yvon. \"As if it were a difficult thing to\nride a horse! I fancy that I have ridden worse ones than this.\"\n\n\"It is not so easy as you think,\" replied Finette; \"but I will tell you\nwhat to do. Take the bit that hangs behind the stable door, and, when\nthe animal rushes toward you breathing fire and smoke from his nostrils,\nforce it straight between his teeth; he will instantly become as gentle\nas a lamb, and you can do what you please with him.\"\n\n\"I will obey,\" said Yvon; upon which he sat down by the side of Finette,\nand began to talk with her. They talked of everything; but, however far\ntheir fancy strayed, they always came back to the point that they were\npromised to each other, and that they must escape from the giant. Time\npasses quickly in this kind of talk. The evening drew nigh. Yvon had\nforgotten the horse and the mountain, and Finette was obliged to send\nhim away, advising him to bring back the animal before his master's\narrival.\n\nYvon took down the bit that was hidden behind the stable door, and\nhastened to the mountain, when lo! a horse almost as large as an\nelephant rushed toward him at full gallop, breathing fire and smoke from\nhis nostrils. Yvon firmly awaited the huge animal, and, the moment he\nopened his enormous jaws, thrust between them the bit; when lo! the\nhorse instantly became as gentle as a lamb. Yvon made him kneel down,\nsprang on his back, and tranquilly returned home.\n\nHis task finished, Yvon seated himself on the bench before the door of\nthe house. As soon as he saw the giant coming, he lolled back in his\nseat, crossed his legs, and began to sing one of his native airs.\n\n\"Have you brought back the horse?\" asked the giant with a frown.\n\n\"Yes, master,\" answered Yvon, without taking the trouble to move. \"He is\na fine animal, and does you credit. He is gentle, well trained, and as\nquiet as a lamb. He is feeding yonder in the stable.\"\n\n\"I am going to see for myself!\" howled the giant. He entered the stable\ngrumbling, found everything in order, and came out furious.\n\n\"You have seen my Finette,\" said he; \"this trick did not come from your\nown head.\"\n\n\"Oh, master,\" returned Yvon, opening his mouth and shutting his eyes,\n\"it is the same story over again. What is this myfinette? Once for all,\nshow me this monster.\"\n\n\"Hold your tongue, fool,\" returned the giant; \"you will see her sooner\nthan you will want to.\"\n\nThe third day at dawn the giant gathered his sheep together to lead them\nto the pasture; but, before setting out, he said to Yvon:\n\n\"To-day you must go to the bottomless pit to collect my rent. After\nthat,\" continued he, bursting into a laugh, \"you may rest all day long.\nYou see that I am a good master.\"\n\n\"A good master, so be it,\" murmured Yvon, \"but the task is none the less\nhard. I will go and see my Finette, as the giant says; I have great need\nof her help to get through to-day's business.\"\n\nWhen Finette had learned what was the task of the day, \"Well,\" said she,\n\"how will you go to work to do it?\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" said Yvon sadly; \"I have never been to the bottomless\npit, and, even if I knew the way there, I should not know what to ask\nfor. Tell me what to do.\"\n\n\"Do you see that great rock yonder?\" said Finette; \"that is one of the\ngates of the bottomless pit. Take this stick, knock three times on the\nstone, and a demon will come out all streaming with flames, who will ask\nyou how much you want. Take care to answer, 'No more than I can carry.'\"\n\n\"I will obey,\" said Yvon; upon which he took a seat by the side of\nFinette, and began to talk with her. He would have been there till this\ntime if the young girl had not sent him to the great rock, when the\nevening drew nigh, to execute the giant's commands.\n\nOn reaching the spot pointed out to him, Yvon found a great block of\ngranite. He struck it three times with the stick, when lo! the rock\nopened, and a demon came forth all streaming with flames.\n\n\"What do you want?\" he cried.\n\n\"I have come for the giant's rent,\" answered Yvon calmly.\n\n\"How much do you want?\"\n\n\"I never want any more than I can carry,\" replied the Breton.\n\n\"It is well for you that you do not,\" returned the man in flames. \"Enter\nthis cavern, and you will find what you want.\"\n\nYvon entered, and opened his eyes wide. Everywhere he saw nothing but\ngold, silver, diamonds, carbuncles, and emeralds. They were as numerous\nas the sands on the seashore. The young Kerver filled a sack, threw it\nacross his shoulder, and tranquilly returned home.\n\nHis task finished, our Breton seated himself on the bench before the\ndoor of the house. As soon as he saw the giant coming, he lolled back in\nhis seat, crossed his legs, and began to sing one of his native airs.\n\n\"Have you been to the bottomless pit to collect my rent?\" asked the\ngiant, with a frown.\n\n\"Yes, master,\" answered Yvon, without taking the trouble to stir. \"The\nsack is there right before your eyes; you can count it.\"\n\n\"I am going to see for myself!\" howled the giant. He untied the strings\nof the sack, which was so full that the gold and silver rolled in all\ndirections.\n\n\"You have seen my Finette,\" he cried; \"this trick did not come from your\nown head.\"\n\n\"Don't you know but one song,\" said Yvon, opening his mouth and shutting\nhis eyes. \"It is the old story, myfinette, myfinette. Once for all, show\nme this thing.\"\n\n\"Well, well,\" roared the giant with fury, \"wait till to-morrow, and you\nshall make her acquaintance!\"\n\n\"Thank you, master,\" said Yvon. \"It is very good of you; but I see from\nyour face that you are laughing at me.\"\n\n\nIII\n\nTHE next morning the giant went out without giving Yvon any orders,\nwhich troubled Finette. At noon he returned without his flock,\ncomplaining of the heat and fatigue, and said to the young girl:\n\n\"You will find a child, my servant, at the door. Cut his throat, put him\ninto the great pot to boil, and call me when the broth is ready.\" Saying\nthis he stretched himself on the bed to take a nap, and was soon snoring\nso loud that it seemed like thunder shaking the mountains.\n\nFinette prepared a log of wood, took a large knife, and called Yvon. She\npricked his little finger; three drops of blood fell on the log.\n\n\"That is enough,\" said Finette; \"now help me to fill the pot.\"\n\nThey threw into it all that they could find--old clothes, old shoes, old\ncarpets, and everything else. Finette then took Yvon by the hand, and\nled him through the three antechambers, where she ran in a mold three\nbullets of gold, two bullets of silver, and one bullet of copper, after\nwhich they quitted the house and ran toward the sea.\n\n\"_On--the Kerver!_\" cried Yvon, as soon as he saw himself in the\ncountry. \"Explain yourself, dear Finette; what farce are we playing\nnow?\"\n\n\"Let us run--let us run!\" she cried; \"if we do not quit this wretched\nisland before night, it is all over with us.\"\n\n\"_On--the Kerver!_\" replied Yvon laughing, \"and down with the giant!\"\n\nWhen he had snored a full hour, the giant stretched his limbs, half\nopened one eye, and cried, \"Is it ready?\"\n\n\"It is just beginning to boil,\" answered the first drop of blood on the\nlog.\n\nThe giant turned over, and snored louder than ever for an hour or two\nlonger. Then he stretched his limbs, half opened one eye, and cried out,\n\"Do you hear me? Is it almost ready?\"\n\n\"It is half done,\" answered the second drop of blood on the log.\n\nThe giant turned over, and slept an hour longer. Then he yawned,\nstretched his great limbs, and cried out impatiently, \"Isn't it ready\nyet?\"\n\n\"It is ready now,\" answered the third drop of blood on the log.\n\nThe giant sat up in bed, rubbed his eyes, and looked around to see who\nhad spoken; but it was in vain to look; he saw nobody.\n\n\"Finette!\" howled he, \"why isn't the table set?\"\n\nThere was no answer. The giant, furious, sprang out of bed, seized a\nladle, which looked like a caldron with a pitchfork for a handle, and\nplunged it into the pot to taste the soup.\n\n\"Finette!\" howled he, \"you haven't salted it. What sort of a soup is\nthis? I see neither meat nor vegetables.\"\n\nNo; but, in return, he saw his carpet, which had not quite all boiled to\npieces. At this sight he fell into such a fit of rage that he could not\nkeep his feet.\n\n\"Villains!\" said he, \"you have played a fine trick on me; but you shall\npay for it!\"\n\nHe rushed out with a stick in his hand, and strode along at such a rate\nthat in a quarter of an hour he discovered the two fugitives still far\nfrom the seashore. He uttered such a cry of joy that the earth shook for\ntwelve leagues around.\n\nFinette stopped, trembling. Yvon clasped her to his heart.\n\n\"_On--the Kerver!_\" said he; \"the sea is not far off; we shall be there\nbefore our enemy.\"\n\n\"Here he is! here he is!\" cried Finette, pointing to the giant not a\nhundred yards off; \"we are lost if this charm does not save us.\"\n\nShe took the copper bullet and threw it on the ground, saying:\n\n \"Copper bullet, save us, pray,\n Stop the giant on his way.\"\n\nAnd behold, the earth cracked apart with a terrific noise, and an\nenormous fissure, a bottomless pit, stopped the giant just as he was\nstretching out his hand to seize his prey.\n\n\"Let us fly!\" cried Finette, grasping the arm of Yvon, who was gazing at\nthe giant with a swaggering air, defying him to come on.\n\nThe giant ran backward and forward along the abyss like a bear in his\ncage, seeking a passage everywhere and finding none; then, with a\nfurious jerk, he tore up an immense oak by the roots, and flung it\nacross the gap. The branches of the oak nearly crushed the children as\nit fell. The giant seated himself astride the huge tree, which bent\nunder his weight, and crept slowly along, suspended between heaven and\nearth, entangled as he was among the branches. When he reached the other\nside, Yvon and Finette were already on the shore with the sea rolling\nbefore them.\n\nAlas! there was neither bark nor ship. The fugitives were lost. Yvon,\nalways brave, picked up stones to attack the giant, and to sell his life\ndearly. Finette, trembling with fear, threw one of the silver bullets\ninto the sea, saying:\n\n \"Silver bullet, bright and pliant,\n Save us from this frightful giant.\"\n\nScarcely had she spoken the magic words when a beautiful ship rose from\nthe waves like a swan spreading its white wings. Yvon and Finette\nplunged into the sea; a rope was thrown them by an invisible hand; and\nwhen the furious giant reached the shore, the ship was receding rapidly\nat full sail, leaving behind it a long furrow of shining foam.\n\nGiants do not like the water. This fact is certified to by old Homer,\nwho knew Polyphemus; and the same observation will be found in all\nnatural histories worthy of the name. Finette's master resembled\nPolyphemus. He roared with rage when he saw his slaves about to escape\nhim. He ran hesitatingly along the shore; he flung huge masses of rock\nafter the vessel, which happily fell by the side of it, and only made\ngreat black holes in the water; and, finally, mad with anger he plunged\nhead foremost into the sea, and began to swim after the ship with\nfrightful speed. At each stroke he advanced forty feet, blowing like a\nwhale, and like a whale cleaving the waves. By degrees he gained on his\nenemies; one more effort would bring him within reach of the rudder, and\nalready he was stretching out his arm to seize it, when Finette threw\nthe second silver bullet into the sea, and cried, in tears:\n\n \"Silver bullet, bright and pliant,\n Save us from this frightful giant.\"\n\nSuddenly from the midst of the foam darted forth a gigantic swordfish,\nwith a sword at least twenty feet in length. It rushed straight toward\nthe giant, who scarcely had time to dive, chased him under the water,\npursued him on the top of the waves, followed him closely whichever way\nhe turned, and forced him to flee as fast as he could to his island,\nwhere he finally landed with the greatest difficulty, and fell upon the\nshore dripping, worn out, and conquered.\n\n\"_On--the Kerver!_\" cried Yvon, \"we are saved!\"\n\n\"Not yet,\" said Finette, trembling. \"The giant has a witch for a\ngodmother, I fear that she will revenge on me the insult offered to her\ngodson. My art tells me, my dear Yvon, that if you quit me a single\ninstant until you give me your name in the chapel of the Kervers, I have\neverything to dread.\"\n\n[Illustration: \"HE FLUNG HUGE MASSES OF ROCK AFTER THE VESSEL\"]\n\n\"By the unicorn of my ancestors,\" cried Yvon, \"you have the heart of a\nhare and not of a hero! Am I not here? Am I going to abandon you? Do you\nbelieve that Providence has saved us from the fangs of that monster to\nwreck us in port?\"\n\nHe laughed so gayly that Finette laughed in turn at the terror that had\nseized her.\n\n\nIV\n\nTHE rest of the voyage passed off admirably. An invisible hand seemed to\nimpel the ship onward. Twenty days after their departure the boat landed\nYvon and Finette near Kerver Castle. Once on shore, Yvon turned to thank\nthe crew. No one was there. Both boat and ship had vanished under the\nwaves, leaving no trace behind but a gull on the wing.\n\nYvon recognized the spot where he had so often gathered shells and\nchased the crabs to their holes when a child. Half an hour's walk would\nbring him in sight of the towers of the old castle. His heart beat; he\nlooked tenderly at Finette, and saw, for the first time, that her dress\nwas fantastic and unworthy of a woman about to enter the noble house of\nKerver.\n\n\"My dear child,\" said he, \"the Baron, my father, is a noble lord,\naccustomed to be treated with respect. I cannot introduce you to him in\nthis gypsy dress; neither is it fitting that you should enter our great\ncastle on foot like a peasant. Wait for me a few moments, and I will\nbring you a horse and one of my sister's dresses. I wish you to be\nreceived like a lady of high degree. I wish my father himself to meet\nyou on your arrival, and hold it an honor to give you his hand.\"\n\n\"Yvon, Yvon!\" cried Finette, \"do not quit me, I beg you. Once returned\nto your castle, I know that you will forget me.\"\n\n\"Forget you!\" exclaimed Yvon. \"If anyone else were to offer me such an\ninsult, I would teach him with my sword to suspect a Kerver. Forget\nyou, my Finette! you do not know the fidelity of a Breton.\"\n\nThat the Bretons are faithful, no one doubts; but that they are still\nmore headstrong is a justice that none will deny them. It was useless\nfor poor Finette to plead in her most loving tones; she was forced to\nyield. She resigned herself with a heavy heart, and said to Yvon:\n\n\"Go without me, then, to your castle, but only stay long enough to speak\nto your friends; then go straight to the stable, and return as soon as\npossible. You will be surrounded by people; act as if you saw no one,\nand, above all, do not eat or drink anything whatever. Should you take\nonly a glass of water, evil would come upon us both.\"\n\nYvon promised and swore all that Finette asked, but he smiled in his\nheart at this feminine weakness. He was sure of himself; and he thought\nwith pride how different a Breton was from those fickle Frenchmen, whose\nwords, they say, are borne away by the first breath of the wind.\n\nOn entering the old castle he could scarcely recognize its dark walls.\nAll the windows were festooned with leaves and flowers within and\nwithout; the courtyard was strewn with fragrant grass; on one side were\nspread tables groaning under their weight; on the other, musicians,\nmounted on casks, were playing merry airs. The vassals, dressed in their\nholiday attire, were singing and dancing, and dancing and singing. It\nwas a day of great rejoicing at the castle. The Baron himself was\nsmiling. It is true that he had just married his fifth daughter to the\nKnight of Kervalec. This marriage added another quartering to the\nillustrious escutcheon of the Kervers.\n\nYvon, recognized and welcomed by all the crowd, was instantly surrounded\nby his relatives, who embraced him and shook him by the hand. Where had\nhe been? Where did he come from? Had he conquered a kingdom, a duchy, or\na barony? Had he brought the bride the jewels of some queen? Had the\nfairies protected him? How many rivals had he overthrown? All these\nquestions were showered upon him without reply. Yvon respectfully\nkissed his father's hand, hastened to his sisters' chamber, took two of\ntheir finest dresses, went to the stable, saddled a pony, mounted a\nbeautiful Spanish jennet, and was about to quit the castle, when he\nfound his relatives, friends, squires, and vassals all standing in his\nway, their glasses in their hands, ready to drink their young lord's\nhealth and his safe return.\n\nYvon gracefully thanked them, bowed, and made his way by degrees through\nthe crowd, when, just as he was about to cross the drawbridge, a\nfair-haired lady, with a haughty and disdainful air, a stranger to him,\na sister of the bridegroom, perhaps, approached him, holding a\npomegranate in her hand.\n\n\"My handsome knight,\" said she, with a singular smile, \"you surely will\nnot refuse a lady's first request. Taste this pomegranate, I entreat\nyou. If you are neither hungry nor thirsty after so long a journey, I\nsuppose at least that you have not forgotten the laws of politeness.\"\n\nYvon dared not refuse this appeal. He was very wrong. Scarcely had he\ntasted the pomegranate when he looked round him like a man waking from a\ndream.\n\n\"What am I doing on this horse?\" thought he. \"What means this pony that\nI am leading? Is not my place in my father's house at my sister's\nwedding? Why should I quit the castle?\"\n\nHe threw the bridle to one of the grooms, leaped lightly to the ground,\nand offered his hand to the fair-haired lady, who accepted him as her\nattendant on the spot, and gave him her bouquet to hold as a special\nmark of favor.\n\nBefore the evening was over there was another betrothed couple in the\ncastle. Yvon had pledged his faith to the unknown lady, and Finette was\nforgotten.\n\n\nV\n\nPOOR Finette, seated on the seashore, waited all day long for Yvon, but\nYvon did not come. The sun was setting in the fiery waves, when Finette\nrose, sighing, and took the way to the castle in her turn. She had not\nwalked long in a steep road, bordered with thorn trees in blossom, when\nshe found herself in front of a wretched hut, at the door of which stood\nan old woman about to milk her cow. Finette approached her, and, making\na low courtesy, begged a shelter for the night.\n\nThe old woman looked at the stranger from head to foot. With her buskins\ntrimmed with fur, her full red petticoat, her blue jacket edged with\njet, and her diadem, Finette looked more like an Egyptian princess than\na Christian. The old woman frowned, and, shaking her fist in the face of\nthe poor forsaken girl, \"Begone, witch!\" she cried; \"there is no room\nfor you in this honest house.\"\n\n\"My good mother,\" said Finette, \"give me only a corner of the stable.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said the old woman, laughing, and showing the only tooth she had\nleft, which projected from her mouth like a bear's tusk, \"so you want a\ncorner of the stable, do you! Well, you shall have it, if you will fill\nmy milk pail with gold.\"\n\n\"It is a bargain,\" said Finette quietly. She opened a leather purse\nwhich she wore at her belt, took from it a golden bullet, and threw it\ninto the milk pail, saying:\n\n \"Golden bullet, precious treasure,\n Save me, if it be thy pleasure.\"\n\nAnd behold! the pieces of gold began to dance about in the pail; they\nrose higher and higher, flapping about like fish in a net, while the old\nwoman on her knees gazed with wonder at the sight.\n\nWhen the pail was full the old woman rose, put her arm through the\nhandle, and said to Finette, \"Madam, all is yours, the house, the cow,\nand everything else. Hurrah! I am going to the town to live like a lady\nwith nothing to do. Oh, dear, how I wish I were only sixty!\" And,\nshaking her crutch, without looking backward, she set out on a run\ntoward Kerver Castle.\n\nFinette entered the house. It was a wretched hovel, dark, low, damp,\nbad-smelling, and full of dust and spiders' webs--a horrible refuge for\na woman accustomed to living in the giant's grand castle. Without\nseeming troubled, Finette went to the hearth, on which a few green\nboughs were smoking, took another golden bullet from her purse, and\nthrew it into the fire, saying:\n\n \"Golden bullet, precious treasure,\n Save me, if it be thy pleasure.\"\n\nThe gold melted, bubbled up, and spread all over the house like running\nwater, and behold! the whole cottage, the walls, the thatch, the wooden\nrocking chair, the stool, the chest, the bed, the cow's horns,\neverything, even to the spiders in their webs, was turned to gold. The\nhouse gleamed in the moonlight, among the trees, like a star in the\nnight.\n\nWhen Finette had milked the cow and drunk a little new milk, she threw\nherself on the bed without undressing, and, worn out by the fatigue of\nthe day, fell asleep in the midst of her tears.\n\nOld women do not know how to hold their tongues, at least in Brittany.\nFinette's hostess had scarcely reached the village when she hastened to\nthe house of the steward. He was an important personage, who had more\nthan once made her tremble when she had driven her cow into her\nneighbor's pasture by mistake. The steward listened to the old woman's\nstory, shook his head, and said that it looked like witchcraft; then he\nmysteriously brought a pair of scales, weighed the guineas, which he\nfound to be genuine and of full weight, kept as many of them as he\ncould, and advised the owner to tell no one of this strange adventure.\n\"If it should come to the ears of the bailiff or the seneschal,\" said\nhe, \"the least that would happen to you, mother, would be to lose every\none of these beautiful bright guineas. Justice is impartial; it knows\nneither favor nor repugnance; it takes the whole.\"\n\nThe old woman thanked the steward for his advice, and promised to follow\nit. She kept her word so well that she only told her story that evening\nto two neighbors, her dearest friends, both of whom swore on the heads\nof their little children to keep it secret. The oath was a solemn one,\nand so well kept that at noon the next day there was not a boy of six in\nthe village that did not point his finger at the old woman, while the\nvery dogs seemed to bark in their language, \"Here is the old woman with\nher guineas!\"\n\nA girl who amuses herself by filling milk-pails with gold is not to be\nfound every day. Even though she should be something of a witch, such a\ngirl would none the less be a treasure in a family. The steward, who was\na bachelor, made this wise reflection that night on going to bed. Before\ndawn he rose to make his rounds in the direction of the stranger's\ncottage. By the first gleam of day he spied something shining in the\ndistance like a light among the woods. On reaching the place he was\ngreatly surprised to find a golden cottage instead of the wretched hut\nthat had stood there the day before. But, on entering the house, he was\nmuch more surprised and delighted to find a beautiful young girl, with\nraven hair, sitting by the window, and spinning on her distaff with the\nair of an empress.\n\nLike all men the steward did himself justice, and knew, at the bottom of\nhis heart, that there was not a woman in the world that would not be too\nhappy to give him her hand. Without hesitating therefore he declared to\nFinette that he had come to marry her. The young girl burst out\nlaughing, upon which the steward flew into a passion.\n\n\"Take care!\" said he, in a terrible voice; \"I am the master here. No one\nknows who you are or whence you came. The gold that you gave the old\nwoman has raised suspicions. There is magic in this house. If you do not\naccept me for a husband this very instant I will arrest you, and before\nnight perhaps a witch will be burned before Kerver Castle.\"\n\n\"You are very amiable,\" said Finette, with a charming grimace; \"you have\na peculiar way of paying court to ladies. Even when they have decided\nnot to refuse, a gallant man spares their blushes.\"\n\n\"We Bretons are plain-spoken people,\" replied the steward; \"we go\nstraight to the point. Marriage or prison, which do you choose?\"\n\n\"Oh!\" cried Finette, laying down the distaff, \"there are the firebrands\nfalling all over the room.\"\n\n\"Don't trouble yourself,\" said the steward, \"I will pick them up.\"\n\n\"Lay them carefully on the top of the ashes,\" returned Finette. \"Have\nyou the tongs?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said the steward, picking up the crackling coals.\n\n\"_Abracadabra!_\" cried Finette, rising. \"Villain, may the tongs hold\nyou, and may you hold the tongs till sunset!\"\n\nNo sooner said than done. The wicked steward stood there all day with\nthe tongs in his hand, picking up and throwing back the burning coals\nthat snapped in his face, and the hot ashes that flew into his eyes. It\nwas useless for him to shout, pray, weep, and blaspheme; no one heard\nhim. If Finette had stayed at home she would doubtless have taken pity\non him; but, after putting the spell upon him she hastened to the\nseashore, where, forgetting everything else, she watched for Yvon in\nvain.\n\nThe moment that the sun set the tongs fell from the steward's hands. He\ndid not stop to finish his errand, but ran as if the devil or justice\nwere at his heels. He made such leaps, he uttered such groans, he was so\nblackened, scorched, and benumbed, that everyone in the village was\nafraid of him, thinking that he was mad. The boldest tried to speak to\nhim, but he fled without answering, and hid himself in his house, more\nashamed than a wolf that has left his paw in the trap.\n\nAt evening, when Finette returned home in despair, instead of the\nsteward she found another visitor little less formidable. The bailiff\nhad heard the story of the guineas, and had also made up his mind to\nmarry the stranger. He was not rough like the steward, but a fat,\ngood-natured man who could not speak without bursting into a laugh,\nshowing his great yellow teeth, and puffing and blowing like an ox,\nthough at heart he was not less obstinate or less threatening than his\npredecessor. Finette entreated the bailiff to leave her alone. He\nlaughed and hinted to her in a good-natured way that, by right of his\noffice, he had the power to imprison and hang people without process of\nlaw. She clasped her hands, and begged him with tears to go. For his\nonly answer he took a roll of parchment from his pocket, wrote on it a\ncontract of marriage, and declared to Finette that should he stay all\nnight he would not leave the house till she had signed the promise.\n\n\"Nevertheless,\" said he, \"if you do not like my person I have another\nparchment here on which I will write an agreement to live apart; and if\nmy sight annoys you, you have only to shut your eyes.\"\n\n\"Why,\" said Finette, \"I might decide to do as you wish if I were sure of\nfinding a good husband in you; but I am afraid.\"\n\n\"Of what, my dear child?\" asked the bailiff, smiling, and already as\nproud as a peacock.\n\n\"Do you think,\" said she, with a pettish air, \"that a good husband would\nleave that door wide open, and not know that his wife was freezing with\ncold?\"\n\n\"You are right, my dear,\" said the bailiff; \"it was very stupid in me. I\nwill go and shut it.\"\n\n\"Have you hold of the knob?\" asked Finette.\n\n\"Yes, my charmer,\" answered the happy bailiff; \"I am just shutting the\ndoor.\"\n\n\"_Abracadabra!_\" cried Finette. \"May you hold the door, villain, and may\nthe door hold you till daybreak.\"\n\nAnd behold, the door opened and shut, and slammed against the walls like\nan eagle flapping its wings. You may judge what a dance the poor captive\nkept up all night. Never had he tried such a waltz, and I imagine that\nhe never wished to dance a second one of the same sort. Sometimes the\ndoor swung open with him in the street; sometimes it flew back and\ncrushed him against the wall. He swung backward and forward, screaming,\nswearing, weeping, and praying, but all in vain; the door was deaf, and\nFinette asleep.\n\nAt daybreak his hands unclasped, and he fell in the road head foremost.\nWithout waiting to finish his errand he ran as if the Moors were after\nhim. He did not even turn around for fear that the door might be at his\nheels. Fortunately for him all were still asleep when he reached the\nvillage, and he could hide himself in bed without anyone seeing his\ndeplorable plight. This was a great piece of good fortune for him for he\nwas covered with whitewash from head to foot, and so pale, haggard, and\ntrembling that he might have been taken for the ghost of a miller\nescaped from the infernal regions.\n\nWhen Finette opened her eyes she saw by her bedside a tall man dressed\nin black, with a velvet cap and a sword. It was the seneschal of the\nbarony of Kerver. He stood with his arms folded, gazing at Finette in a\nway that chilled the very marrow of her bones.\n\n\"What is your name, vassal?\" said he in a voice of thunder.\n\n\"Finette, at your service, my lord,\" replied she, trembling.\n\n\"Is this house and furniture yours?\"\n\n\"Yes, my lord, everything, at your service.\"\n\n\"I mean that it shall be at my service,\" returned the seneschal sternly.\n\"Rise, vassal! I do you the honor to marry you, and to take yourself,\nyour person, and your property under my guardianship.\"\n\n\"My lord,\" returned Finette, \"this is much too great an honor for a poor\ngirl like me, a stranger, without friends or kindred.\"\n\n\"Be silent, vassal!\" replied the seneschal. \"I am your lord and master;\nI have nothing to do with your advice. Sign this paper.\"\n\n\"My lord,\" said Finette, \"I don't know how to write.\"\n\n\"Do you think that I do, either?\" returned the seneschal, in a voice\nthat shook the house. \"Do you take me for a clerk? A cross--that is the\nsignature of gentlemen.\"\n\nHe made a large cross on the paper, and handed the pen to Finette.\n\n\"Sign,\" said he. \"If you are afraid to make a cross, infidel, you pass\nyour own death sentence, and I shall take on myself to execute it.\" He\ndrew his heavy sword from the scabbard as he spoke, and threw it on the\ntable.\n\nFor her only answer, Finette leaped out of the window, and ran to the\nstable. The seneschal pursued her thither; but, on attempting to enter\nan unexpected obstacle stopped him. The frightened cow had backed at the\nsight of the young girl, and stood in the doorway with Finette clinging\nto her horns, and making of her a sort of buckler.\n\n\"You shall not escape me, sorceress!\" cried the seneschal, and, with a\ngrasp like that of Hercules, he seized the cow by the tail and dragged\nher out of the stable.\n\n\"_Abracadabra!_\" cried Finette. \"May the cow's tail hold you, villain,\nand may you hold the cow's tail till you have both been around the world\ntogether.\"\n\nAnd behold! the cow darted off like lightning, dragging the unhappy\nseneschal after her. Nothing stopped the two inseparable comrades; they\nrushed over mountains and valleys, crossed marshes, rivers, quagmires,\nand brakes, glided over the seas without sinking, were frozen in Siberia\nand scorched in Africa, climbed the Himalayas, descended Mont Blanc, and\nat length after thirty-six hours of a journey, the like of which had\nnever been seen, both stopped out of breath in the public square of the\nvillage.\n\nA seneschal harnessed to a cow's tail is a sight not to be seen every\nday, and all the peasants in the neighborhood crowded together to wonder\nat the spectacle. But, torn as he was by the cactuses of Barbary and the\nthickets of Tartary, the seneschal had lost nothing of his haughty air.\nWith a threatening gesture he dispersed the rabble, and limped to his\nhouse to taste the repose of which he began to feel the need.\n\n\nVI\n\nWHILE the steward, the bailiff, and the seneschal were experiencing\nthese little unpleasantnesses, of which they did not think it proper to\nboast, preparations were being made for a great event at Kerver Castle,\nnamely, the marriage of Yvon and the fair-haired lady. Two days had\npassed in these preparations, and all the friends of the family had\ngathered together for twenty leagues round, when one fine morning Yvon\nand his bride, with the Baron and Baroness Kerver, took their seats in a\ngreat carriage adorned with flowers, and set out for the celebrated\nchurch of St. Maclou.\n\nA hundred knights, in full armor, mounted on horses decked with ribbons,\nrode on each side of the betrothed couple, each with his visor raised\nand his lance at rest in token of honor. By the side of each baron, a\nsquire, also on horseback, carried the seigniorial banner. At the head\nof the procession rode the seneschal with a gilded staff in his hand.\nBehind the carriage gravely walked the bailiff, followed by the vassals,\nwhile the steward railed at the serfs, a noisy and curious rabble.\n\nAs they were crossing a brook a league from the castle, one of the\ntraces of the carriage broke, and they were forced to stop. The accident\nrepaired, the coachman cracked his whip, and the horses started with\nsuch force that the new trace broke in three pieces. Six times this\nprovoking piece of wood was replaced, and six times it broke anew\nwithout drawing the carriage from the hole where it was wedged.\n\nEveryone had a word of advice to offer; even the peasants, as\nwheelwrights and carpenters, were not the last to make a show of their\nknowledge. This gave the steward courage; he approached the Baron, took\noff his cap, and, scratching his head:\n\n\"My lord,\" said he, \"in the house that you see shining yonder among the\ntrees there lives a woman who does things such as nobody else can do.\nOnly persuade her to lend you her tongs, and, in my humble opinion, they\nwill hold till morning.\"\n\nThe Baron made a sign, and ten peasants ran to the cottage of Finette,\nwho very obligingly lent them her gold tongs. They were put in the place\nof the trace; the coachman cracked his whip, and off went the carriage\nlike a feather.\n\nEveryone rejoiced, but the joy did not last long. A hundred steps\nfarther, lo! the bottom of the carriage gave way; little more and the\nnoble Kerver family would have sunk quite out of sight. The wheelwrights\nand the carpenters set to work at once; they sawed planks, nailed them\ndown fast, and in the twinkling of an eye repaired the accident. The\ncoachman cracked his whip, and the horses started, when behold! half of\nthe carriage was left behind; the Baroness Kerver sat motionless by the\nside of the bride, while Yvon and the Baron were carried off at full\ngallop. Here was a new difficulty. Three times was the carriage mended;\nthree times it broke anew. There was every reason to believe that it was\nenchanted.\n\nEveryone had a word of advice to offer. This gave the bailiff courage.\nHe approached the Baron, and said in a low tone:\n\n\"My lord, in the house that you see shining yonder among the trees,\nthere lives a woman who does things such as nobody else can do. Only\npersuade her to lend you her door for the bottom of the carriage, and,\nin my opinion, it will hold till morning.\"\n\nThe Baron made a sign, and twenty peasants ran to the cottage of\nFinette, who very obligingly lent them her gold door. They put it in the\nbottom of the carriage where it fitted as if it had been made expressly\nfor it. The party took their seats in the carriage, the coachman cracked\nhis whip, the church was in sight, and all the troubles of the journey\nseemed ended.\n\nNot at all! Suddenly the horses stopped, and refused to draw. There were\nfour of them. Six, eight, ten, twenty-four more were put to the\ncarriage, but all in vain; it was impossible to stir them. The more they\nwere whipped the deeper the wheels sunk into the ground like the colter\nof a plow.\n\nWhat were they to do? To go on foot would have been a disgrace. To mount\na horse and ride to the church like simple peasants, was not the custom\nof the Kervers. They tried to lift the carriage, they pushed the\nwheels, they shook it, they pulled it, but all in vain. Meanwhile the\nday was declining, and the hour for the marriage had passed.\n\nEveryone had a word of advice to offer. This gave the seneschal courage.\nHe approached the Baron, alighted from his horse, raised his velvet cap,\nand said:\n\n\"My lord, in the house that you see shining yonder among the trees,\nthere lives a woman who does things such as nobody else can do. Only\npersuade her to lend you her cow to draw the carriage, and, in my\nopinion, she will draw it till morning.\"\n\nThe Baron made a sign, and thirty peasants ran to the cottage of\nFinette, who very obligingly lent them her golden-horned cow.\n\nTo go to church drawn by a cow was not, perhaps, what the ambitious\nbride had dreamed of, but it was better than to remain unmarried in the\nroad. The heifer was harnessed therefore before the horses, and\neverybody looked on anxiously to see what this boasted animal was\ncapable of doing.\n\nBut before the coachman had time to crack his whip, lo! the cow started\noff as if she were about to go around the world anew. Horses, carriage,\nBaron, betrothed, coachman, all were hurried away by the furious animal.\nIn vain the knights spurred their horses to follow the pair; in vain the\npeasants ran at full speed, taking the crossroad and cutting across the\nmeadows. The carriage flew as if it had wings; a pigeon could not have\nfollowed it.\n\nOn reaching the door of the church the party, a little disturbed by this\nrapid journey, would not have been sorry to alight. Everything was ready\nfor the ceremony, and the bridal pair had long been expected; but,\ninstead of stopping, the cow redoubled her speed. Thirteen times she ran\nround the church like lightning, then suddenly made her way in a\nstraight line across the fields to the castle with such force that the\nwhole party were almost shaken to pieces before their arrival.\n\n\nVII\n\nNO more marriage was to be thought of for that day; but the tables were\nset and the dinner served, and the Baron Kerver was too noble a knight\nto take leave of his brave Bretons until they had eaten and drunk\naccording to custom--that is, from sunset till sunrise, and even a\nlittle later.\n\nOrders were given for the guests to take their seats. Ninety-six tables\nwere ranged in eight rows. In front of them, on a large platform covered\nwith velvet, with a canopy in the middle, was a table larger than the\nrest, and loaded with fruit and flowers, to say nothing of the roast\nhares and the peacocks smoking beneath their plumage. At this table the\nbridal pair were to have been seated in full sight in order that nothing\nmight be lacking to the pleasures of the feast, and that the meanest\npeasant might have the honor of saluting them by emptying his cup of\nhydromel to the honor and prosperity of the high and mighty house of\nKerver.\n\nThe Baron seated the hundred knights at his table, and placed their\nsquires behind their chairs to serve them. At his right he put the bride\nand Yvon, but he left the seat at his left vacant, and, calling a page,\n\"Child,\" said he, \"run to the house of the stranger lady who obliged us\nonly too much this morning. It was not her fault if her success exceeded\nher good will. Tell her that the Baron Kerver thanks her for her help,\nand invites her to the wedding feast of his son Lord Yvon.\"\n\nOn reaching the golden house, where Finette in tears was mourning for\nher beloved, the page bent one knee to the ground, and, in the Baron's\nname, invited the stranger lady to the castle to do honor to the wedding\nof Lord Yvon.\n\n\"Thank your master for me,\" answered the young girl proudly, \"and tell\nhim that if he is too noble to come to my house I am too noble to go to\nhis.\"\n\nWhen the page repeated this answer to his master the Baron Kerver struck\nthe table such a blow that three plates flew into the air.\n\n\"By my honor,\" said he, \"this is spoken like a lady, and, for the first\ntime, I own myself beaten. Quick, saddle my dun mare, and let my knights\nand squires prepare to attend me.\"\n\nIt was with this brilliant train that the Baron alighted at the door of\nthe golden cottage. He begged Finette's pardon, held the stirrup for\nher, and seated her behind him on his own horse, neither more nor less\nthan a duchess in person. Through respect he did not speak a single word\nto her on the way. On reaching the castle, he uncovered his head and led\nher to the seat of honor that he had chosen for her.\n\nThe Baron's departure had made a great excitement, and his return caused\nstill greater surprise. Everyone asked who the lady could be that the\nBaron treated with such respect. Judging from her costume she was a\nforeigner; could she be the Duchess of Normandy or the Queen of France?\nThe steward, the bailiff, and the seneschal were appealed to. The\nsteward trembled, the bailiff turned pale, and the seneschal blushed,\nbut all three were as mute as fishes. The silence of these important\npersonages added to the general wonder.\n\nAll eyes were fixed on Finette, who felt a deadly chill at her heart,\nfor Yvon saw but did not know her. He cast an indifferent glance at her,\nthen began again to talk in a tender tone to the fair-haired lady, who\nsmiled disdainfully.\n\nFinette, in despair, took from the purse the golden bullet, her last\nhope. While talking with the Baron, who was charmed with her wit, she\nshook the little ball in her hand, and repeated in a whisper:\n\n \"Golden bullet, precious treasure,\n Save me, if it be thy pleasure.\"\n\nAnd behold, the bullet grew larger and larger until it became a goblet\nof chased gold, the most beautiful cup that ever graced the table of\nbaron or king.\n\nFinette filled the cup herself with spiced wine, and calling the\nseneschal, who was cowering behind her, she said in her gentlest tones,\n\"My good seneschal, I entreat you to offer this goblet to Lord Yvon. I\nwish to drink his health, and I am sure that he will not refuse me this\npleasure.\"\n\nYvon took the goblet, which the seneschal presented to him on a salver\nof enamel and gold, with a careless hand, bowed to the stranger, drank\nthe wine, and, setting the cup on the table before him, turned to the\nfair-haired lady who occupied all his thoughts. The lady seemed anxious\nand vexed. He whispered a few words in her ear that seemed to please\nher, for her eyes sparkled, and she placed her hand again in his.\n\nFinette cast down her head and began to weep. All was over.\n\n\"Children,\" cried the Baron, in a voice of thunder, \"fill your glasses.\nLet us all drink to the noble stranger who honors us with her presence.\n'To the lovely lady of the golden cottage!'\"\n\nAll began to huzzah and drink. Yvon contented himself with raising his\ngoblet to a level with his eyes. Suddenly he started and stood mute, his\nmouth open and his eyes fixed, like a man who has a vision.\n\nIt was a vision. In the gold of the goblet Yvon saw his past life as in\na mirror: the giant pursuing him; Finette dragging him along; both\nembarking in the ship that saved them; both landing on the shore of\nBrittany; he quitting her for an instant; she weeping at his departure.\nWhere was she? By his side, of course. What other woman than Finette\ncould be by the side of Yvon?\n\nHe turned toward the fair-haired lady, and cried out like a man treading\non a serpent. Then, staggering as if he were drunk, he rose and looked\naround him with haggard eyes. At the sight of Finette he clasped his\ntrembling hands, and, dragging himself toward her, fell on his knees and\nexclaimed, \"Finette, forgive me!\"\n\nTo forgive is the height of happiness. Before evening Finette was seated\nby the side of Yvon, both weeping and smiling.\n\nAnd what became of the fair-haired lady? No one knows. At the cry of\nYvon she disappeared; but it was said that a wretched old hag was seen\nflying on a broomstick over the castle walls, chased by the dogs; and it\nwas the common opinion among the Kervers that the fair-haired lady was\nnone other than the witch, the godmother of the giant. I am not sure\nenough of the fact, however, to dare warrant it. It is always prudent to\nbelieve, without proof, that a woman may be a witch, but it is never\nwise to say so.\n\n[Illustration: \"SHE WORE THEM ALWAYS ... LOOSE AND FLOWING\"]\n\nWhat I can say on the word of an historian is that the feast,\ninterrupted for a moment, went on gayer than ever. Early the next\nmorning they went to the church, where, to the joy of his heart, Yvon\nmarried Finette, who was no longer afraid of evil spirits; after which\nthey ate, drank, and danced for thirty-six hours, without anyone\nthinking of resting. The steward's arms were a little heavy, the bailiff\nrubbed his back at times, and the seneschal felt a sort of weariness in\nhis limbs, but all three had a weight on their consciences which they\ncould not shake off, and which made them tremble and flutter, till\nfinally they fell on the ground and were carried off. Finette took no\nother vengeance on them; her only desire was to render all happy around\nher, far and near, who belonged to the noble house of Kerver. Her memory\nstill lives in Brittany; and, among the ruins of the old castle, anyone\nwill show you the statue of the good lady, with five bullets in her\nhand.\n\n\n\n\n_The Fair One with Golden Locks_\n\n\nTHERE was once a king's daughter so beautiful that they named her the\nFair One with Golden Locks. These golden locks were the most remarkable\nin the world, soft and fine, and falling in long waves down to her very\nfeet. She wore them always thus, loose and flowing, surmounted with a\nwreath of flowers; and though such long hair was sometimes rather\ninconvenient, it was so exceedingly beautiful, shining in the sun like\nripples of molten gold, that everybody agreed she fully deserved her\nname.\n\nNow there was a young king of a neighboring country, very handsome, very\nrich, and wanting nothing but a wife to make him happy. He heard so much\nof the various perfections of the Fair One with Golden Locks that at\nlast, without even seeing her, he fell in love with her so desperately\nthat he could neither eat nor drink, and resolved to send an ambassador\nat once to demand her in marriage. So he ordered a magnificent\nequipage--more than a hundred horses and a hundred footmen--in order\nto bring back to him the Fair One with Golden Locks, who, he never\ndoubted, would be only too happy to become his queen. Indeed, he felt so\nsure of her that he refurnished the whole palace, and had made, by all\nthe dressmakers of the city, dresses enough to last a lady for a\nlifetime. But, alas! when the ambassador arrived and delivered his\nmessage, either the princess was in a bad humor or the offer did not\nappear to be to her taste, for she returned her best thanks to his\nmajesty, but said she had not the slightest wish or intention to be\nmarried. She also, being a prudent damsel, declined receiving any of the\npresents which the King had sent her; except that, not quite to offend\nhis majesty, she retained a box of English pins, which were in that\ncountry of considerable value.\n\nWhen the ambassador returned, alone and unsuccessful, all the court was\nvery much affected, and the King himself began to weep with all his\nmight. Now, there was in the palace household a young gentleman named\nAvenant, beautiful as the sun, besides being at once so amiable and so\nwise that the King confided to him all his affairs; and everyone loved\nhim, except those people--to be found in all courts--who were envious of\nhis good fortune. These malicious folk hearing him say gayly, \"If the\nKing had sent me to fetch the Fair One with Golden Locks, I know she\nwould have come back with me,\" repeated the saying in such a manner that\nit appeared as if Avenant thought overmuch of himself and his beauty,\nand felt sure the Princess would have followed him all over the world;\nwhich, when it came to the ears of the King, as it was meant to do,\nirritated him so much that he commanded Avenant to be imprisoned in a\nhigh tower, and left to die there of hunger. The guards accordingly\ncarried off the young man, who had quite forgotten his idle speech, and\nhad not the least idea what fault he had committed. They ill-treated him\nvery much and then left him, with nothing to eat and only water to\ndrink. This, however, kept him alive for a few days, during which he did\nnot cease to complain aloud, and to call upon the King, saying, \"O King,\nwhat harm have I done? You have no subject more faithful than I. Never\nhave I had a thought which could offend you.\"\n\nAnd it so befell that the King, coming by chance, or else from a sense\nof remorse, past the tower, was touched by the voice of the young\nAvenant, whom he had once so much regarded. In spite of all the\ncourtiers could do to prevent him, he stopped to listen, and overheard\nthese words. The tears rushed into his eyes; he opened the door of the\ntower and called, \"Avenant!\" Avenant came, creeping feebly along, fell\nat the King's knees, and kissed his feet:\n\n\"O sire, what have I done that you should treat me so cruelly?\"\n\n\"You have mocked me and my ambassador; for you said if I had sent you to\nfetch the Fair One with Golden Locks, you would have been successful and\nbrought her back.\"\n\n\"I did say it, and it was true,\" replied Avenant fearlessly; \"for I\nshould have told her so much about your majesty and your various high\nqualities, which no one knows so well as myself, that I am persuaded she\nwould have returned with me.\"\n\n\"I believe it,\" said the King, with an angry look at those who had\nspoken ill of his favorite; he then gave Avenant a free pardon, and took\nhim back with him to the court.\n\nAfter having supplied the famished youth with as much supper as he could\neat, the King admitted him to a private audience and said: \"I am as much\nin love as ever with the Fair One with Golden Locks, so I will take thee\nat thy word, and send thee to try and win her for me.\"\n\n\"Very well, please your majesty,\" replied Avenant cheerfully; \"I will\ndepart to-morrow.\"\n\nThe King, overjoyed with his willingness and hopefulness, would have\nfurnished him with a still more magnificent equipage and suite than the\nfirst ambassador, but Avenant refused to take anything except a good\nhorse to ride and letters of introduction to the Princess's father. The\nKing embraced him and eagerly saw him depart.\n\nIt was on a Monday morning when, without any pomp or show, Avenant thus\nstarted on his mission. He rode slowly and meditatively, pondering over\nevery possible means of persuading the Fair One with Golden Locks to\nmarry the King; but, even after several days' journey toward her\ncountry, no clear project had entered into his mind. One morning, when\nhe had started at break of day, he came to a great meadow with a stream\nrunning through it, along which were planted willows and poplars. It was\nsuch a pleasant, rippling stream that he dismounted and sat down on its\nbanks. There he perceived, gasping on the grass, a large golden carp,\nwhich, in leaping too far after gnats, had thrown itself quite out of\nthe water, and now lay dying on the greensward. Avenant took pity on it,\nand though he was very hungry, and the fish was very fat, and he would\nwell enough have liked it for his breakfast, still he lifted it gently\nand put it back into the stream. No sooner had the carp touched the\nfresh cool water than it revived and swam away; but shortly returning,\nit spoke to him from the water in this wise:\n\n\"Avenant, I thank you for your good deed. I was dying, and you have\nsaved me. I will recompense you for this one day.\"\n\nAfter this pretty little speech, the fish popped down to the bottom of\nthe stream, according to the habit of carp, leaving Avenant very much\nastonished, as was natural.\n\nAnother day he met with a raven that was in great distress, being\npursued by an eagle, which would have swallowed him up in no time.\n\"See,\" thought Avenant, \"how the stronger oppress the weaker! What right\nhas an eagle to eat up a raven?\" So taking his bow and arrow, which he\nalways carried, he shot the eagle dead, and the raven, delighted,\nperched in safety on an opposite tree.\n\n\"Avenant,\" screeched he, though not in the sweetest voice in the world;\n\"you have generously succored me, a poor miserable raven. I am not\nungrateful, and I will recompense you one day.\"\n\n\"Thank you,\" said Avenant, and continued his road.\n\nEntering in a thick wood, so dark with the shadows of early morning that\nhe could scarcely find his way, he heard an owl hooting, as if in great\ntribulation. She had been caught by the nets spread by birdcatchers to\nentrap finches, larks, and other small birds. \"What a pity,\" thought\nAvenant, \"that men must always torment poor birds and beasts who have\ndone them no harm!\" So he took out his knife, cut the net, and let the\nowl go free. She went sailing up into the air, but immediately returned,\nhovering over his head on her brown wings.\n\n\"Avenant,\" said she, \"at daylight the birdcatchers would have been here,\nand I should have been caught and killed. I have a grateful heart; I\nwill recompense you one day.\"\n\nThese were the three principal adventures that befell Avenant on his way\nto the kingdom of the Fair One with Golden Locks. Arrived there, he\ndressed himself with the greatest care, in a habit of silver brocade,\nand a hat adorned with plumes of scarlet and white. He threw over all a\nrich mantle, and carried a little basket in which was a lovely little\ndog, an offering of respect to the Princess. With this he presented\nhimself at the palace gates, where, even though he came alone, his mien\nwas so dignified and graceful, so altogether charming, that everyone did\nhim reverence, and was eager to run and tell the Fair One with Golden\nLocks that Avenant, another ambassador from the King her suitor, awaited\nan audience.\n\n\"Avenant!\" repeated the Princess. \"That is a pretty name; perhaps the\nyouth is pretty too.\"\n\n\"So beautiful,\" said the ladies of honor, \"that while he stood under\nthe palace window we could do nothing but look at him.\"\n\n\"How silly of you!\" sharply said the Princess. But she desired them to\nbring her robe of blue satin, to comb out her long hair and adorn it\nwith the freshest garland of flowers, to give her her high-heeled shoes,\nand her fan. \"Also,\" added she, \"take care that my audience chamber is\nwell swept and my throne well dusted. I wish in everything to appear as\nbecomes the Fair One with Golden Locks.\"\n\nThis done, she seated herself on her throne of ivory and ebony, and gave\norders for her musicians to play, but softly, so as not to disturb\nconversation. Thus, shining in all her beauty, she admitted Avenant to\nher presence.\n\nHe was so dazzled that at first he could not speak; then he began and\ndelivered his harangue to perfection.\n\n\"Gentle Avenant,\" returned the princess, after listening to all his\nreasons for her returning with him, \"your arguments are very strong, and\nI am inclined to listen to them; but you must first find for me a ring\nwhich I dropped into the river about a month ago. Until I recover it I\ncan listen to no propositions of marriage.\"\n\nAvenant, surprised and disturbed, made her a profound reverence and\nretired, taking with him the basket and the little dog Cabriole, which\nshe refused to accept. All night long he sat sighing to himself: \"How\ncan I ever find a ring which she dropped into the river a month ago? She\nhas set me an impossibility.\"\n\n\"My dear master,\" said Cabriole, \"nothing is an impossibility to one so\nyoung and charming as you are. Let us go at daybreak to the riverside.\"\n\nAvenant patted him, but replied nothing; until, worn out with grief, he\nslept. Before dawn Cabriole wakened him, saying, \"Master, dress yourself\nand let us go to the river.\"\n\nThere Avenant walked up and down, with his arms folded and his head\nbent, but saw nothing. At last he heard a voice calling from a distance,\n\"Avenant, Avenant!\"\n\nThe little dog ran to the waterside--\"Never believe me again, master,\nif it is not a golden carp with a ring in its mouth!\"\n\n\"Yes, Avenant,\" said the carp, \"this is the ring which the Princess has\nlost. You saved my life in the willow meadow, and I have recompensed\nyou. Farewell!\"\n\nAvenant took the ring gratefully and returned to the palace with\nCabriole, who scampered about in great glee. Craving an audience, he\npresented the Princess with her ring, and begged her to accompany him to\nhis master's kingdom. She took the ring, looked at it, and thought she\nwas surely dreaming.\n\n\"Some fairy must have assisted you, fortunate Avenant,\" said she.\n\n\"Madam, I am fortunate only in my desire to obey your wishes.\"\n\n\"Obey me still,\" she said graciously. \"There is a prince named Galifron,\nwhose suit I have refused. He is a giant as tall as a tower, who eats a\nman as a monkey eats a nut. He puts cannons into his pockets instead of\npistols, and when he speaks his voice is so loud that everyone near him\nbecomes deaf. Go and fight him, and bring me his head.\"\n\nAvenant was thunderstruck; but after a time he recovered himself. \"Very\nwell, madam. I shall certainly perish, but I will perish like a brave\nman. I will depart at once to fight the Giant Galifron.\"\n\nThe Princess, now in her turn surprised and alarmed, tried every\npersuasion to induce him not to go, but in vain. Avenant armed himself\nand started, carrying his little dog in its basket. Cabriole was the\nonly creature that gave him consolation: \"Courage, master! While you\nattack the giant, I will bite his legs. He will stoop down to strike me,\nand then you can knock him on the head.\" Avenant smiled at the little\ndog's spirit, but he knew it was useless.\n\nArrived at the castle of Galifron, he found the road all strewn with\nbones and carcasses of men. Soon he saw the giant walking. His head was\nlevel with the highest trees, and he sang in a terrific voice:\n\n \"Bring me babies to devour;\n More--more--more--more--\n Men and women, tender and tough;\n All the world holds not enough.\"\n\nTo which Avenant replied, imitating the tune:\n\n \"Avenant you here may see,\n He is come to punish thee;\n Be he tender, be he tough,\n To kill thee, giant, he is enough.\"\n\nHearing these words, the giant took up his massive club, looked around\nfor the singer, and, perceiving him, would have slain him on the spot,\nhad not a raven, sitting on a tree close by, suddenly flown down upon\nhim and picked out both his eyes. Then Avenant easily killed him and cut\noff his head, while the raven, watching him, said:\n\n\"You shot the eagle who was pursuing me. I promised to recompense you,\nand to-day I have done it. We are quits.\"\n\n\"No, it is I who am your debtor, Sir Raven,\" replied Avenant as, hanging\nthe frightful head to his saddle bow, he mounted his horse and rode back\nto the city of the Fair One with Golden Locks.\n\nThere everybody followed him, shouting, \"Here is brave Avenant, who has\nkilled the giant,\" until the Princess, hearing the noise, and fearing it\nwas Avenant himself who was killed, appeared, all trembling; and even\nwhen he appeared with Galifron's head, she trembled still, although she\nhad nothing to fear.\n\n\"Madam,\" said Avenant, \"your enemy is dead, so I trust you will accept\nthe hand of the king, my master.\"\n\n\"I cannot,\" replied she, thoughtfully, \"unless you first bring me a vial\nof the water in the Grotto of Darkness. It is six leagues in length, and\nguarded at the entrance by two fiery dragons. Within it is a pit, full\nof scorpions, lizards, and serpents, and at the bottom of this place\nflows the Fountain of Beauty and Health. All who wash in it become, if\nugly, beautiful; and if beautiful, beautiful forever; if old, young; and\nif young, young forever. Judge then, Avenant, if I can quit my kingdom\nwithout carrying with me some of this miraculous water.\"\n\n\"Madam,\" replied Avenant, \"you are already so beautiful that you require\nit not; but I am an unfortunate ambassador whose death you desire. I\nwill obey you, though I know I shall never return.\"\n\nSo he departed with his only friends--his horse and his faithful dog\nCabriole; while all who met him looked at him compassionately, pitying\nso pretty a youth bound on such a hopeless errand. But, however kindly\nthey addressed him, Avenant rode on and answered nothing, for he was too\nsad at heart.\n\nHe reached a mountain-side, where he sat down to rest, leaving his horse\nto graze and Cabriole to run after the flies. He knew that the Grotto of\nDarkness was not far off, yet he looked about him like one who sees\nnothing. At last he perceived a rock as black as ink, whence came a\nthick smoke; and in a moment appeared one of the two dragons, breathing\nout flames. It had a yellow-and-green body, claws, and a long tail. When\nCabriole saw the monster, the poor little dog hid himself in terrible\nfright. But Avenant resolved to die bravely; so taking a vial which the\nPrincess had given him, he prepared to descend into the cave.\n\n\"Cabriole,\" said he, \"I shall soon be dead. Then fill this vial with my\nblood and carry it to the Fair One with Golden Locks, and afterwards to\nthe King my master, to show him I have been faithful to the last.\"\n\nWhile he was thus speaking a voice called, \"Avenant, Avenant!\" and he\nsaw an owl sitting on a hollow tree. Said the owl: \"You cut the net in\nwhich I was caught, and I vowed to recompense you. Now is the time. Give\nme the vial. I know every corner of the Grotto of Darkness. I will fetch\nyou the water of beauty.\"\n\nDelighted beyond words, Avenant delivered up his vial; the owl flew with\nit into the grotto, and in less than half an hour reappeared, bringing\nit quite full and well corked. Avenant thanked her with all his heart,\nand joyfully took once more the road to the city.\n\nThe Fair One with Golden Locks had no more to say. She consented to\naccompany him back, with all her suite, to his master's court. On the\nway thither she saw so much of him, and found him so charming, that\nAvenant might have married her himself had he chosen; but he would not\nhave been false to his master for all the beauties under the sun. At\nlength they arrived at the King's city, and the Fair One with Golden\nLocks became his spouse and queen. But she still loved Avenant in her\nheart, and often said to the king her lord: \"But for Avenant I should\nnot be here; he has done all sorts of impossible deeds for my sake; he\nhas fetched me the water of beauty, and I shall never grow old--in\nshort, I owe him everything.\"\n\nAnd she praised him in this sort so much that at length the King became\njealous, and though Avenant gave him not the slightest cause of offense,\nhe shut him up in the same high tower once more--but with irons on his\nhands and feet, and a cruel jailer besides, who fed him with bread and\nwater only. His sole companion was his little dog Cabriole.\n\nWhen the Fair One with Golden Locks heard of this, she reproached her\nhusband for his ingratitude, and then, throwing herself at his knees,\nimplored that Avenant might be set free. But the King only said, \"She\nloves him!\" and refused the prayer. The Queen entreated no more, but\nfell into a deep melancholy.\n\nWhen the King saw it, he thought she did not care for him because he was\nnot handsome enough; and that if he could wash his face with her water\nof beauty, it would make her love him more. He knew that she kept it in\na cabinet in her chamber, where she could find it always.\n\nNow it happened that a waiting maid, in cleaning out this cabinet, had,\nthe very day before knocked down the vial, which was broken in a\nthousand pieces, and all the contents were lost. Very much alarmed, she\nthen remembered seeing in a cabinet belonging to the King, a similar\nvial. This she fetched and put in the place of the other one, in which\nwas the water of beauty. But the King's vial contained the water of\ndeath. It was a poison, used to destroy great criminals--that is,\nnoblemen, gentlemen, and such like. Instead of hanging them or cutting\ntheir heads off, like common people, they were compelled to wash their\nfaces with this water, upon which they fell asleep and woke no more. So\nit happened that the king, taking up this vial, believing it to be the\nwater of beauty, washed his face with it, fell asleep, and--died.\n\nCabriole heard the news, and, gliding in and out among the crowd which\nclustered round the young and lovely widow, whispered softly to her,\n\"Madam, do not forget poor Avenant.\" If she had been disposed to do so,\nthe sight of his little dog would have been enough to remind her of\nhim--his many sufferings and his great fidelity. She rose up, without\nspeaking to anybody, and went straight to the tower where Avenant was\nconfined. There, with her own hands, she struck off his chains, and\nputting a crown of gold on his head and a purple mantle on his\nshoulders, said to him, \"Be King--and my husband.\"\n\nAvenant could not refuse, for in his heart he had loved her all the\ntime. He threw himself at her feet, and then took the crown and scepter,\nand ruled her kingdom like a king. All the people were delighted to have\nhim as their sovereign. The marriage was celebrated in all imaginable\npomp, and Avenant and the Fair One with Golden Locks lived and reigned\nhappily together all their days.\n\n\n\n\n_The Little Good Mouse_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a king and queen who loved each other so\nmuch that they were never happy unless they were together. Day after day\nthey went out hunting or fishing; night after night they went to balls\nor to the opera; they sang and danced and ate sugarplums, and were the\ngayest of the gay, and all their subjects followed their example so that\nthe kingdom was called the Joyous Land. Now in the next kingdom\neverything was as different as it could possibly be. The King was sulky\nand savage, and never enjoyed himself at all. He looked so ugly and\ncross that all his subjects feared him, and he hated the very sight of a\ncheerful face; so if he ever caught anyone smiling he had his head cut\noff that very minute. This kingdom was very appropriately called the\nLand of Tears. Now when this wicked King heard of the happiness of the\njolly King, he was so jealous that he collected a great army and set out\nto fight him, and the news of his approach was soon brought to the King\nand Queen. The Queen, when she heard of it, was frightened out of her\nwits, and began to cry bitterly. \"Sire,\" she said, \"let us collect all\nour riches and run away as far as ever we can, to the other side of the\nworld.\"\n\nBut the King answered:\n\n\"Fie, madam! I am far too brave for that. It is better to die than to be\na coward.\"\n\nThen he assembled all his armed men, and after bidding the Queen a\ntender farewell, he mounted his splendid horse and rode away. When he\nwas lost to sight the Queen could do nothing but weep and wring her\nhands and cry.\n\n\"Alas! If the King is killed, what will become of me and of my little\ndaughter?\" and she was so sorrowful that she could neither eat nor\nsleep.\n\nThe King sent her a letter every day, but at last, one morning, as she\nlooked out of the palace window, she saw a messenger approaching in hot\nhaste.\n\n\"What news, courier? What news?\" cried the Queen, and he answered:\n\n\"The battle is lost and the King is dead, and in another moment the\nenemy will be here.\"\n\nThe poor Queen fell back insensible, and all her ladies carried her to\nbed, and stood round her weeping and wailing. Then began a tremendous\nnoise and confusion, and they knew that the enemy had arrived, and very\nsoon they heard the King himself stamping about the palace seeking the\nQueen. Then her ladies put the little Princess into her arms, and\ncovered her up, head and all, in the bedclothes, and ran for their\nlives, and the poor Queen lay there shaking and hoping she would not be\nfound. But very soon the wicked King clattered into the room, and in a\nfury because the Queen would not answer when he called to her, he tore\nback her silken coverings and tweaked off her lace cap, and when all her\nlovely hair came tumbling down over her shoulders, he wound it three\ntimes round his hand and threw her over his shoulder, where he carried\nher like a sack of flour.\n\nThe poor Queen held her little daughter safe in her arms and shrieked\nfor mercy, but the wicked King only mocked her, and begged her to go on\nshrieking, as it amused him, and so mounted his great black horse, and\nrode back to his own country. When he got there he declared that he\nwould have the Queen and the little Princess hanged on the nearest tree;\nbut his courtiers said that seemed a pity, for when the baby grew up she\nwould be a very nice wife for the King's only son.\n\nThe King was rather pleased with this idea, and shut the Queen up in the\nhighest room of a tall tower, which was very tiny, and miserably\nfurnished with a table and a very hard bed upon the floor. Then he sent\nfor a fairy who lived near his kingdom, and after receiving her with\nmore politeness than he generally showed, and entertaining her at a\nsumptuous feast, he took her up to see the Queen. The fairy was so\ntouched by the sight of her misery that when she kissed her hand she\nwhispered:\n\n\"Courage, madam! I think I see a way to help you.\"\n\nThe Queen, a little comforted by these words, received her graciously,\nand begged her to take pity upon the poor little Princess, who had met\nwith such a sudden reverse of fortune. But the King got very cross when\nhe saw them whispering together, and cried harshly:\n\n\"Make an end of these fine speeches, madam. I brought you here to tell\nme if the child will grow up pretty and fortunate.\"\n\nThen the fairy answered that the Princess would be as pretty and clever\nand well brought-up as it was possible to be, and the old King growled\nto the Queen that it was lucky for her that it was so, as they would\ncertainly have been hanged if it were otherwise. Then he stamped off,\ntaking the fairy with him, and leaving the poor Queen in tears.\n\n\"How can I wish my little daughter to grow up pretty if she is to be\nmarried to that horrid little dwarf, the King's son,\" she said to\nherself, \"and yet, if she is ugly we shall both be killed. If I could\nonly hide her away somewhere, so that the cruel King could never find\nher.\"\n\nAs the days went on, the Queen and the little Princess grew thinner and\nthinner, for their hard-hearted jailer gave them every day only three\nboiled peas and a tiny morsel of black bread, so that they were always\nterribly hungry.\n\nAt last, one evening, as the Queen sat at her spinning wheel--for the\nKing was so avaricious that she was made to work day and night--she saw\na tiny, pretty little mouse creep out of a hole, and said to it:\n\n\"Alas, little creature! what are you coming to look for here? I have\nonly three peas for my day's provision, so unless you wish to fast you\nmust go elsewhere.\"\n\nBut the mouse ran hither and thither, and danced and capered so\nprettily, that at last the Queen gave it her last pea, which she was\nkeeping for her supper, saying: \"Here, little one, eat it up; I have\nnothing better to offer you, but I give this willingly in return for the\namusement I have had from you.\"\n\nShe had hardly spoken when she saw upon the table a delicious little\nroast partridge, and two dishes of preserved fruit. \"Truly,\" said she,\n\"a kind action never goes unrewarded\"; and she and the little Princess\nate their supper with great satisfaction, and then the Queen gave what\nwas left to the little mouse, who danced better than ever afterwards.\nThe next morning came the jailer with the Queen's allowance of three\npeas, which he brought in upon a large dish to make them look smaller;\nbut as soon as he set it down the little mouse came and ate up all\nthree, so that when the Queen wanted her dinner there was nothing left\nfor her. Then she was quite provoked, and said:\n\n\"What a bad little beast that mouse must be! If it goes on like this I\nshall be starved.\" But when she glanced at the dish again it was covered\nwith all sorts of nice things to eat, and the Queen made a very good\ndinner and was gayer than usual over it. But afterwards as she sat at\nher spinning wheel she began to consider what would happen if the little\nPrincess did not grow up pretty enough to please the King, and she said\nto herself:\n\n\"Oh, if I could only think of some way of escaping!\"\n\nAs she spoke she saw the little mouse playing in a corner with some long\nstraws. The Queen took them and began to plait them, saying:\n\n\"If only I had straws enough I would make a basket with them, and let my\nbaby down in it from the window to any kind passer-by who would take\ncare of her.\"\n\nBy the time the straws were all plaited the little mouse had dragged in\nmore and more, until the Queen had plenty to make her basket, and she\nworked at it day and night, while the little mouse danced for her\namusement; and at dinner and supper time the Queen gave it the three\npeas and the bit of black bread, and always found something good in the\ndish in their place. She really could not imagine where all the nice\nthings came from. At last one day when the basket was finished, the\nQueen was looking out of the window to see how long a cord she must make\nto lower it to the bottom of the tower, when she noticed a little old\nwoman who was leaning upon her stick and looking up at her. Presently\nshe said:\n\n\"I know your trouble, madam. If you like, I will help you.\"\n\n\"Oh, my dear friend,\" said the Queen; \"if you really wish to be of use\nto me you will come at the time that I will appoint, and I will let down\nmy poor little baby in a basket. If you will take her and bring her up\nfor me, when I am rich I will reward you splendidly.\"\n\n\"I don't care about the reward,\" said the old woman, \"but there is one\nthing I should like. You must know that I am very particular about what\nI eat, and if there is one thing that I fancy above all others, it is a\nplump, tender little mouse. If there is such a thing in your garret just\nthrow it down to me, and in return I will promise that your little\ndaughter shall be well taken care of.\"\n\nThe Queen when she heard this began to cry, but made no answer, and the\nold woman after waiting a few minutes asked her what was the matter.\n\n\"Why,\" said the Queen, \"there is only one mouse in this garret, and that\nis such a dear, pretty little thing that I cannot bear to think of its\nbeing killed.\"\n\n\"What!\" cried the old woman in a rage. \"Do you care more for a miserable\nmouse than for your own baby? Good-by, madam! I leave you to enjoy its\ncompany, and for my own part I thank my stars that I can get plenty of\nmice without troubling you to give them to me.\"\n\nAnd she hobbled off grumbling and growling. As to the Queen, she was so\ndisappointed that, in spite of finding a better dinner than usual, and\nseeing the little mouse dancing in its merriest mood, she could do\nnothing but cry. That night when her baby was fast asleep she packed it\ninto the basket, and wrote on a slip of paper, \"This unhappy little girl\nis called Delicia!\" This she pinned to its robe, and then very sadly she\nwas shutting the basket when in sprang the little mouse and sat on the\nbaby's pillow.\n\n\"Ah! little one,\" said the Queen, \"it cost me dear to save your life.\nHow shall I know now whether my Delicia is being taken care of or not?\nAnyone else would have let the greedy old woman have you and eat you up,\nbut I could not bear to do it.\" Whereupon the mouse answered:\n\n\"Believe me, madam, you will never repent of your kindness.\"\n\nThe Queen was immensely astonished when the mouse began to speak, and\nstill more so when she saw its little sharp nose turn to a beautiful\nface, and its paws to hands and feet; then it suddenly grew tall, and\nthe Queen recognized the fairy who had come with the wicked King to\nvisit her.\n\nThe fairy smiled at her astonished look, and said:\n\n\"I wanted to see if you were faithful and capable of feeling a real\nfriendship for me, for you see we fairies are rich in everything but\nfriends, and those are hard to find.\"\n\n\"It is not possible that you should want for friends, you charming\ncreature,\" said the Queen, kissing her.\n\n\"Indeed it is so,\" the fairy said. \"For those who are only friendly with\nme for their own advantage, I do not count at all. But when you cared\nfor the poor little mouse you could not have known there was anything to\nbe gained by it, and to try you further I took the form of the old woman\nwhom you talked to from the window, and then I was convinced that you\nreally loved me.\" Then, turning to the little Princess, she kissed her\nrosy lips three times, saying:\n\n\"Dear little one, I promise that you shall be richer than your father,\nand shall live a hundred years, always pretty and happy, without fear of\nold age and wrinkles.\"\n\nThe Queen, quite delighted, thanked the fairy gratefully, and begged her\nto take charge of the little Delicia and bring her up as her own\ndaughter. This she agreed to do, and then they shut the basket and\nlowered it carefully, baby and all, to the ground at the foot of the\ntower. The fairy then changed herself back into the form of a mouse, and\nthis delayed her a few seconds, after which she ran nimbly down the\nstraw rope, only to find when she got to the bottom that the baby had\ndisappeared.\n\nIn the greatest terror she ran up again to the Queen, crying:\n\n\"All is lost! my enemy Cancaline has stolen the Princess away. You must\nknow that she is a cruel fairy who hates me, and as she is older than I\nam and has more power, I can do nothing against her. I know no way of\nrescuing Delicia from her clutches.\"\n\nWhen the Queen heard this terrible news she was heartbroken, and begged\nthe fairy to do all she could to get the poor little Princess back\nagain. At this moment in came the jailer, and when he missed the little\nPrincess he at once told the King, who came in a great fury, asking\nwhat the Queen had done with her. She answered that a fairy, whose name\nshe did not know, had come and carried her off by force. Upon this the\nKing stamped upon the ground, and cried in a terrible voice:\n\n\"You shall be hung! I always told you you should.\" And without another\nword he dragged the unlucky Queen out into the nearest wood, and climbed\nup into a tree to look for a branch to which he could hang her. But when\nhe was quite high up, the fairy, who had made herself invisible and\nfollowed them, gave him a sudden push, which made him lose his footing\nand fall to the ground with a crash and break four of his teeth, and\nwhile he was trying to mend them the fairy carried the Queen off in her\nflying chariot to a beautiful castle, where she was so kind to her that\nbut for the loss of Delicia the Queen would have been perfectly happy.\nBut though the good little mouse did her very utmost, they could not\nfind out where Cancaline had hidden the little Princess.\n\nThus fifteen years went by, and the Queen had somewhat recovered from\nher grief, when the news reached her that the son of the wicked King\nwished to marry the little maiden who kept the turkeys, and that she had\nrefused him; the wedding dresses had been made, nevertheless, and the\nfestivities were to be so splendid that all the people for leagues round\nwere flocking in to be present at them. The Queen felt quite curious\nabout a little turkey maiden who did not wish to be a queen, so the\nlittle mouse conveyed herself to the poultry yard to find out what she\nwas like.\n\nShe found the turkey maiden sitting upon a big stone, barefooted and\nmiserably dressed in an old, coarse, linen gown and cap; the ground at\nher feet was all strewn with robes of gold and silver, ribbons and\nlaces, diamonds and pearls, over which the turkeys were stalking to and\nfro, while the king's ugly, disagreeable son stood opposite her,\ndeclaring angrily that if she would not marry him she should be killed.\n\nThe turkey maiden answered proudly:\n\n\"I never will marry you! You are too ugly and too much like your cruel\nfather. Leave me in peace with my turkeys, which I like far better than\nall your fine gifts.\"\n\nThe little mouse watched her with the greatest admiration, for she was\nas beautiful as the spring; and as soon as the wicked Prince was gone,\nshe took the form of an old peasant woman and said to her:\n\n\"Good day, my pretty one! you have a fine flock of turkeys there.\"\n\nThe young turkey maiden turned her gentle eyes upon the old woman and\nanswered:\n\n\"Yet they wish me to leave them to become a miserable queen! What is\nyour advice upon the matter?\"\n\n\"My child,\" said the fairy, \"a crown is a very pretty thing, but you\nknow neither the price nor the weight of it.\"\n\n\"I know so well that I have refused to wear one,\" said the little\nmaiden, \"though I don't know who was my father or who was my mother, and\nI have not a friend in the world.\"\n\n\"You have goodness and beauty, which are of more value than ten\nkingdoms,\" said the wise fairy. \"But tell me, child, how came you here,\nand how is it you have neither father nor mother nor friend?\"\n\n\"A fairy called Cancaline is the cause of my being here,\" answered she,\n\"for while I lived with her I got nothing but blows and harsh words,\nuntil at last I could bear it no longer, and ran away from her without\nknowing where I was going, and as I came through a wood the wicked\nPrince met me and offered to give me charge of the poultry yard. I\naccepted gladly, not knowing that I should have to see him day by day.\nAnd now he wants to marry me, but that I will never consent to.\"\n\nUpon hearing this the fairy became convinced that the little turkey\nmaiden was none other than the Princess Delicia.\n\n\"What is your name, my little one?\" said she.\n\n\"I am called Delicia, if it please you,\" she answered.\n\nThen the fairy threw her arms round the Princess's neck, and nearly\nsmothered her with kisses, saying:\n\n\"Ah, Delicia! I am a very old friend of yours, and I am truly glad to\nfind you at last; but you might look nicer than you do in that old gown,\nwhich is only fit for a kitchenmaid. Take this pretty dress and let us\nsee the difference it will make.\"\n\nSo Delicia took off the ugly cap, and shook out all her fair shining\nhair, and bathed her hands and face in clear water from the nearest\nspring till her cheeks were like roses, and when she was adorned with\nthe diamonds and the splendid robe the fairy had given her she looked\nthe most beautiful princess in the world, and the fairy with great\ndelight, cried:\n\n\"Now you look as you ought to look, Delicia. What do you think about it\nyourself?\"\n\nAnd Delicia answered:\n\n\"I feel as if I were the daughter of some great king.\"\n\n\"And would you be glad if you were?\" asked the fairy.\n\n\"Indeed I should,\" answered she.\n\n\"Ah, well,\" said the fairy, \"to-morrow I may have some pleasant news for\nyou.\"\n\nSo she hurried back to her castle, where the Queen sat busy with her\nembroidery, and cried:\n\n\"Well, madam, will you wager your thimble and your golden needle that I\nam bringing you the best news you could possibly hear?\"\n\n\"Alas!\" sighed the Queen, \"since the death of the jolly King and the\nloss of my Delicia, all the news in the world is not worth a pin to me.\"\n\n\"There, there, don't be melancholy,\" said the fairy. \"I assure you the\nPrincess is quite well, and I have never seen her equal for beauty. She\nmight be a queen to-morrow if she chose\"; and then she told all that had\nhappened, and the Queen first rejoiced over the thought of Delicia's\nbeauty, and then wept at the idea of her being a turkey maiden.\n\n\"I will not hear of her being made to marry the wicked King's son,\" she\nsaid. \"Let us go at once and bring her here.\"\n\nIn the meantime the wicked Prince, who was very angry with Delicia, had\nsat himself down under a tree, and cried and howled with rage and spite\nuntil the King heard him, and cried out from the window:\n\n\"What is the matter with you, that you are making all this disturbance?\"\n\n[Illustration: \"I FEEL AS IF I WERE THE DAUGHTER OF SOME GREAT KING\"]\n\nThe Prince replied:\n\n\"It is all because our turkey maiden will not love me!\"\n\n\"Won't love you, eh!\" said the King. \"We'll very soon see about that!\"\nSo he called his guards and told them to go and fetch Delicia. \"See if I\ndon't make her change her mind pretty soon!\" said the wicked King with a\nchuckle.\n\nThen the guards began to search the poultry yard, and could find nobody\nthere but Delicia, who, with her splendid dress and her crown of\ndiamonds, looked such a lovely princess that they hardly dared to speak\nto her. But she said to them very politely:\n\n\"Pray tell me what you are looking for here?\"\n\n\"Madam,\" they answered, \"we are sent for an insignificant little person\ncalled Delicia.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said she, \"that is my name. What can you want with me?\"\n\nSo the guards tied her hands and feet with thick ropes, for fear she\nmight run away, and brought her to the King, who was waiting with his\nson.\n\nWhen he saw her he was very much astonished at her beauty, which would\nhave made anyone less hard-hearted sorry for her. But the wicked King\nonly laughed and mocked at her, and cried: \"Well, little fright, little\ntoad! why don't you love my son, who is far too handsome and too good\nfor you? Make haste and begin to love him this instant, or you shall be\ntarred and feathered.\"\n\nThen the poor little Princess, shaking with terror, went down on her\nknees, crying:\n\n\"Oh, don't tar and feather me, please! It would be so uncomfortable. Let\nme have two or three days to make up my mind, and then you shall do as\nyou like with me.\"\n\nThe wicked Prince would have liked very much to see her tarred and\nfeathered, but the King ordered that she should be shut up in a dark\ndungeon. It was just at this moment that the Queen and the fairy arrived\nin the flying chariot, and the Queen was dreadfully distressed at the\nturn affairs had taken, and said miserably that she was destined to be\nunfortunate all her days. But the fairy bade her take courage.\n\n\"I'll pay them out yet,\" said she, nodding her head with an air of great\ndetermination.\n\nThat very same night, as soon as the wicked King had gone to bed, the\nfairy changed herself into the little mouse, and creeping up on to his\npillow nibbled his ear so that he squealed out quite loudly and turned\nover on his other side; but that did no good, for the little mouse only\nset to work and gnawed away at the second ear until it hurt more than\nthe first one.\n\nThen the King cried \"Murder!\" and \"Thieves!\" and all his guards ran to\nsee what was the matter, but they could find nothing and nobody, for the\nlittle mouse had run off to the Prince's room and was serving him in\nexactly the same way. All night long she ran from one to the other,\nuntil at last, driven quite frantic by terror and want of sleep, the\nKing rushed out of the palace crying:\n\n\"Help! help! I am pursued by rats.\"\n\nThe Prince when he heard this got up also, and ran after the King, and\nthey had not gone far when they both fell into the river and were never\nheard of again.\n\nThen the good fairy ran to tell the Queen, and they went together to the\nblack dungeon where Delicia was imprisoned. The fairy touched each door\nwith her wand, and it sprang open instantly; but they had to go through\nforty before they came to the Princess, who was sitting on the floor\nlooking very dejected. But when the Queen rushed in and kissed her\ntwenty times in a minute, and laughed and cried and told her all her\nhistory, the Princess was wild with delight. Then the fairy showed her\nall the wonderful dresses and jewels she had brought for her, and said:\n\n\"Don't let us waste time; we must go and harangue the people.\"\n\nSo she walked first, looking very serious and dignified, and wearing a\ndress the train of which was at least ten ells long. Behind her came the\nQueen wearing a blue velvet robe embroidered with gold and a diamond\ncrown that was brighter than the sun itself. Last of all walked Delicia,\nwho was so beautiful that it was nothing short of marvelous.\n\nThey proceeded through the streets, returning the salutations of all\nthey met, great or small, and all the people turned and followed them,\nwondering who these noble ladies could be.\n\nWhen the audience hall was quite full, the fairy said to the subjects of\nthe wicked King that if they would accept Delicia, who was the daughter\nof the jolly King, as their Queen, she would undertake to find a\nsuitable husband for her, and would promise that during their reign\nthere should be nothing but rejoicing and merrymaking, and all dismal\nthings should be entirely banished. Upon this the people cried with one\naccord: \"We will, we will! We have been gloomy and miserable too long\nalready.\" And they all took hands and danced round the Queen and Delicia\nand the good fairy, singing: \"Yes, yes; we will, we will!\"\n\nThen there were feasts and fireworks in every street in the town, and\nearly the next morning the fairy, who had been all over the world in the\nnight, brought back with her in her flying chariot the most handsome and\ngood-tempered Prince she could find anywhere. He was so charming that\nDelicia loved him from the moment their eyes met, and as for him, of\ncourse he could not help thinking himself the luckiest prince in the\nworld. The Queen felt that she had really come to the end of her\nmisfortunes at last, and they all lived happily ever after.\n\n\n\n\n_The Story of Blanche and Vermilion_\n\n\nTHERE was once upon a time a widow, a very good kind of woman, who had\ntwo daughters, both very amiable. The elder was called \"Blanche\" and the\nyounger \"Vermilion.\" They had received these names because one of them\nhad the fairest complexion that was ever seen, and the other had cheeks\nand lips as red as coral.\n\nOne day, as the good woman was seated near the door of her cottage\nspinning, she perceived a poor old woman who could hardly hobble along\nwith the assistance of her stick. \"You appear to be very much tired, my\ngood woman,\" said the widow; \"sit down here and rest yourself awhile\";\nand she then desired one of her daughters to fetch her a chair. Both of\nthem immediately rose, but Vermilion outran her sister and brought the\nchair.\n\n\"Will you please to drink?\" said the good old dame to the old woman.\n\"With all my heart,\" answered she; \"and I feel even as if I could eat a\nlittle if you could give me a bit of something nice.\" \"You shall be\nwelcome to anything that I have,\" said the good widow; \"but, as I am\npoor, it will be nothing out of the common way.\" At the same time she\ndesired her daughters to lay the table for the good old dame, who\nstraightway seated herself at it.\n\nThe widow then told the elder daughter to go and gather some plums from\na tree that she had planted herself, and was very fond of. Blanche,\ninstead of obeying her mother willingly, murmured, and said to herself,\n\"So it is for this old gormandizer that I have been so very careful of\nmy plum tree.\" She, however, dared not refuse to fetch a few plums, but\nshe gave them with much reluctance and very ungraciously. \"You,\nVermilion,\" said the good woman to her younger daughter, \"have no fruit\nto give to this good dame, for your grapes are not ripe.\" \"That's true,\"\nsaid Vermilion; \"but I hear my hen cackling, so she must have laid an\negg, and if the gentlewoman would like a new-laid egg she is very\nwelcome to it\"; and without waiting for any answer from the old woman,\nshe ran off to seek her egg. The moment she presented it, however, the\nold woman disappeared and was replaced by a beautiful lady who said to\nthe mother: \"I am about to recompense your two daughters according to\ntheir deserts. The elder shall become a great queen, and the younger a\nfarmer's wife.\" With these words she struck the house with her wand; it\ndisappeared, and in its place rose a nice, snug-looking farm. \"That is\nyour portion,\" said she to Vermilion. \"I know that I have given each of\nyou what you like best.\" Having thus said, the fairy departed; and the\ngood woman and her two daughters remained in great surprise.\n\nThey went into the farmhouse, and were charmed with the neatness of the\nfurniture. The chairs were only of wood, but they were so bright that\none might see one's face in them as in a looking-glass. The bedding was\nof Irish linen, as white as snow. In the pens were sheep; four oxen and\nthe like number of cows were in the cowhouses, and the yard was well\nstocked with all sorts of domestic animals, as poultry, ducks, pigeons,\netc. There was also a pretty garden, planted with different kinds of\nfruit, vegetables, and flowers.\n\nBlanche regarded without any feelings of jealousy the fairy's gift to\nher sister. Her only thoughts were concerning the pleasures she\nanticipated in being a queen. All at once she heard a huntsman's horn,\nand going to the door to see the party pass, she appeared so beautiful\nto the King that he resolved to marry her, and did so accordingly.\nBlanche, when she was become a queen, said to her sister Vermilion: \"I\ndo not wish that you should marry a farmer; come to court with me,\nsister; I will procure you a great lord for your husband.\" \"I am very\nmuch obliged to you, sister,\" replied Vermilion, \"but I am accustomed to\na country life, and do not wish to change it.\"\n\nQueen Blanche then set out, and she was so gratified that she passed\nseveral nights without sleeping, for joy. The first few months she was\nso taken up with fine clothes, balls, and plays that she thought of\nnothing else. But she soon grew used to these things, and nothing now\namused her; on the contrary, she was very discontented. All the ladies\nof the court showed her great respect when they were in her presence;\nbut she knew that they did not like her, and that they said to each\nother behind her back, \"See how this peasant girl plays the fine lady!\nThe King must have had very poor taste to take such a personage for his\nconsort.\" The King heard of these remarks, and they made him reflect on\nwhat he had done. He began to think that he had acted wrongly in\nmarrying Blanche, and as his passion for her had cooled, he soon\nneglected her.\n\nWhen the courtiers perceived that the King no longer loved his wife,\nthey paid her little or no attention. She was very unfortunate, for she\nhad not a single friend to whom she could impart her grief. She observed\nthat it was the fashion at court to sacrifice one's friend to one's\ninterest, to smile on one's bitterest enemy, and to tell lies\ncontinually. She was obliged to be serious, because she was told that a\nqueen ought always to look grave and majestic. She had several children,\nand during all this time she was constantly attended by a physician, who\nexamined everything that she ate, and ordered everything that she liked\nto be removed from the table. She was allowed no salt in her soup, she\nwas forbidden to quit the house when she felt inclined to take a\nwalk--in a word, she was contradicted from morning till night.\nGovernesses were engaged for her children, who brought them up in direct\nopposition to her wishes; yet she was not permitted to find fault. Poor\nQueen Blanche was dying with sorrow, and she grew so thin that it was\npitiable to see her. She had not seen her sister once during the three\nyears that she had been a queen, because she thought it would be\ndemeaning her high rank to pay a visit to a farmer's wife; but when she\nwas quite oppressed with melancholy, she came to the resolution of\nspending a few days in the country to restore herself. She asked leave\nof the King to go, who permitted her very willingly, for he thought that\nhe should thus get rid of her for some time. She set out, and arrived in\nthe dusk of the evening at Vermilion's farm. As she was drawing near,\nshe observed about the door a company of shepherds and shepherdesses who\nwere dancing and merrymaking in high glee. \"Alas!\" said the Queen\nsighing, \"there was once a time when I could divert myself like these\npoor people, and no one found fault with me.\" Directly she came in\nsight, her sister ran to embrace her. She looked so happy, she had grown\nso plump, that the Queen could not forbear crying when she looked at\nher.\n\nVermilion had married a farmer's son, who had no fortune; but he never\nceased to remember that his wife had brought him all that he possessed,\nand he strove by his obliging disposition to show his gratitude.\nVermilion had not many servants; but those that she had were as fond of\nher as if she had been their mother, because she treated them well. All\nher neighbors also liked her, and they were all zealous in showing their\nlove. She had not much money, nor had she any occasion for much, for her\nfarm yielded her corn, wine, and oil. Her herds furnished her with milk,\nwith which she made butter and cheese. She spun the wool supplied by her\nsheep into the materials of clothes for herself, her husband, and her\ntwo children. They all enjoyed excellent health, and in the evening,\nwhen the period of working had passed, they diverted themselves with all\nsorts of pastimes. \"Alas!\" cried the Queen, \"the fairy made me a very\nevil present when she gave me a crown. Contentment is not to be found in\nmagnificent palaces, but only in the innocent employments of a country\nlife.\" These words had hardly passed her lips when the fairy appeared.\n\"It was not my intention, when I made you Queen, to reward, but to\npunish you,\" said the fairy to her, \"for giving me your plums with so\nmuch ill will. To be truly contented and happy, you must, like your\nsister, possess only what is necessary, and wish for nothing more.\" \"Ah,\nmadam!\" faltered Blanche, \"you are sufficiently revenged; I entreat you\nto put an end to my unhappiness.\"\n\n\"It is at an end,\" answered the fairy. \"The King, who no longer loves\nyou, has just married another wife, and his officers will arrive here\nto-morrow to desire you, in his name, never to return to his court.\" It\ncame to pass exactly as the fairy had foretold. Blanche passed the\nremainder of her days with her sister Vermilion, in all happiness and\nreasonable pleasure, and she never thought of the court again except to\nthank the fairy for having brought her from it to her native village.\n\n\n\n\n_Prince Desire and Princess Mignonetta_\n\n\nTHERE was once upon a time a king who was passionately fond of a\nprincess; but she could not be married, because she was enchanted. He\nwent to consult a fairy, to ascertain what he ought to do to make the\nPrincess love him. The fairy said to him, \"You know that the Princess\nhas a large cat, of which she is very fond; well, she can marry that\nperson only who can succeed in treading on her cat's tail.\" The King\nsaid to himself, \"That will not be very difficult to accomplish\"; and he\nquitted the fairy, determined rather to crush the cat's tail than to\nfail in treading on it. He hastened to his mistress's palace; Master\nPuss came to meet him, very consequentially, as was his wont; the King\nlifted up his foot, but when he thought to have put it on the cat's\ntail, Puss turned round so quickly that he trod on nothing but the\nfloor. He was a week trying to tread on this fatal tail, which appeared\nto be full of quicksilver, for it was continually moving. But, at last,\nthe King had the good fortune to surprise Master Puss while he was\nasleep, and trod upon his tail with all his weight. Puss awakened,\nmewing horribly, and immediately took the shape of a tall man, who,\nlooking at the King with eyes full of anger, said to him: \"You may now\nmarry the Princess, since you have dissolved the enchantment which\nprevented you; but I will be revenged. You shall have a son who will\nalways be unfortunate until the time when he shall become aware that his\nnose is too long; and, if you take any umbrage at what I threaten, you\nshall immediately be put to death.\"\n\n[Illustration: \"HE WAS A WEEK TRYING TO TREAD ON THIS FATAL TAIL\"]\n\nAlthough the King was frightened at the sight of this tall man, who was\nan enchanter, he could not help laughing at his threat. \"If my son's\nnose should be too long,\" said he to himself, \"unless he should be\neither blind or silly, he will certainly be able to see or feel it.\"\nWhen the enchanter had disappeared, the King went to find the Princess,\nwho consented to marry him. However, he did not live long with her, for\nhe died eight months after the wedding. Shortly after his death, the\nQueen gave birth to a young Prince, who was called Desire. He had the\nfinest large blue eyes in the world, and a pretty little mouth; but his\nnose was so large that it covered half his face. The Queen was\ninconsolable when she saw this large nose; but the ladies who were with\nher told her that the nose was not so large as it appeared to her to be;\nthat it was a Roman nose, and that history averred that all heroes had\nlarge noses. The Queen, who loved her son to excess, was charmed with\nthis discourse; and, by continually looking at Desire, his nose no\nlonger appeared to be so very long. The Prince was brought up very\ncarefully; and, as soon as he could speak, all kinds of shocking stories\nwere told him of people who had short noses. No one was allowed to\nremain near him whose nose did not a little resemble his own; and the\ncourtiers, to show their respect to the Queen and her son, pulled their\nchildren's noses several times a day, with a view of lengthening them.\nThey had, however, a difficult task; for their sons appeared to have\nhardly any nose at all compared with Prince Desire's. When he became old\nenough to understand it, he was instructed in history; and, whenever any\ngreat prince or handsome princess was mentioned to him, he or she was\nalways spoken of as having a long nose. The room was hung round with\npictures in which all the figures had large noses; and Desire grew so\naccustomed to regard length of nose as an ornament, that he would not\nfor an empire have parted with an atom of his. When he had reached the\nage of twenty, it was thought expedient for him to marry; and the\nportraits of various princesses were submitted to him. He was in\nraptures with that of Mignonetta, the daughter of a great king, and\nheiress to several kingdoms; of the kingdoms, however, Desire thought\nnot at all, he was so much struck with her beauty.\n\nThe Princess Mignonetta, although he was thus charmed with her, had a\nlittle turned-up nose which harmonized admirably with her other\nfeatures, but which very much perplexed the courtiers. They had acquired\nsuch a habit of ridiculing small noses, that they sometimes could not\nforbear laughing at that of the Princess; but Desire would not suffer a\njest on this subject; and he banished two courtiers from his presence,\nwho dared to make insinuations against Mignonetta's nose. The others,\nwarned by their fate, were more cautious; and there was one who said to\nthe Prince, that, in truth, a man could not be amiable who had not a\nlarge nose, but that it was not the same in respect to woman; for a wise\nman, who spoke Greek, had informed him that he had read in an old\nmanuscript that the fair Cleopatra had the end of her nose turned up.\nThe Prince made a magnificent present to the courtier who told him this\ngood news, and dispatched ambassadors to demand Mignonetta in marriage.\nHis proposal was accepted, and he was so anxious to see her, that he\nwent more than nine miles on the road to meet her; but as he was just\nstepping forward to kiss her hand, the enchanter appeared and carried\noff the Princess before his face, leaving him quite inconsolable.\n\nDesire resolved never to re\u251c\u017anter his kingdom, until he had discovered\nMignonetta. He would not allow any of his courtiers to accompany him,\nand, mounting a good horse, he laid the bridle on his neck, and allowed\nhim to choose his own road. The horse presently came to a large plain,\nwhich he traversed the whole day without seeing a single house. Both\nhorse and rider were ready to die with hunger; at last, as night was\nabout to set in, they discovered a cave in which a light was burning.\nDesire entered, and saw a little old woman, who appeared to be more than\na hundred years old. She put on her spectacles to look at the Prince;\nbut she was a long time adjusting them, for her nose was too short. The\nPrince and the fairy (for it was a fairy) burst out laughing as they\nlooked at each other; exclaiming simultaneously, \"Oh, what a comical\nnose!\" \"Not so comical as yours,\" said Desire; \"but, madam, let us leave\nour noses as they are, and have the goodness to give me something to\neat; for both I and my poor horse are dying with hunger.\"\n\n\"With all my heart,\" answered the fairy. \"Although your nose is\nridiculous, you are not the less the son of my best friend. I loved the\nKing, your father, like my own brother; but he had a very handsome\nnose.\" \"And what is there wanting in mine?\" asked Desire. \"Oh, it wants\nnothing,\" answered the fairy; \"on the contrary, there is far too much of\nit; but no matter; a man may be very good, and yet have too large a\nnose. I was saying, then, that I was your father's friend; at that time\nhe frequently came to see me; and you must know that in those days I was\nvery pretty; your father told me so. I must repeat to you a conversation\nthat we had together the last time he saw me.\" \"Very well, madam,\" said\nDesire; \"I will listen to you with a great deal of pleasure when I have\nhad my supper; consider, if you please, that I have eaten nothing\nto-day.\" \"The poor child is right,\" said the fairy; \"I did not think of\nthat. I will prepare your supper; and, while you are eating, I will tell\nyou my history in a few words; for I do not like long tales. A long\ntongue is still more insufferable than a large nose; and I remember,\nwhen I was young, that I was admired for not being a great talker; the\nQueen, my mother, used frequently to have it mentioned to her; for, such\nas you see me, I am a great king's daughter. My father--\" \"Your father\nate when he was hungry,\" said the Prince, interrupting her. \"Yes, he\ndid, doubtless,\" said the fairy, \"and you also will have your supper in\na moment: I was merely going to tell you that my father--\" \"But I will\nnot listen to a word until I have something to eat,\" said the Prince,\ngrowing angry. He checked himself, however, for he wanted something of\nthe fairy, and said: \"I know that the pleasure I should take in\nlistening to you would make me forget my own hunger; but my horse, who\nwill not understand you, is in need of some food.\" This compliment made\nthe fairy blush prettily. \"You shall wait no longer,\" said she to\nDesire, calling her domestics; \"you are very polite, and, in spite of\nthe size of your nose, you are very amiable.\" \"Plague take the old woman\nwith my nose!\" said the Prince to himself; \"one would have sworn that my\nmother had stolen what is wanting in hers, to make mine with; if I were\nnot hungry, I would leave this prate-a-pace, who fancies that she is a\nlittle talker. One must be very stupid not to perceive one's own\ndefects; that comes of her being born a princess: flatterers have\nspoiled her, and persuaded her that she is a little talker.\"\n\nWhile that was passing in the Prince's mind, the servants laid the\ntable; and the Prince wondered at the fairy, who kept asking them a\nthousand questions, solely to have the pleasure of talking: he was\nespecially surprised at a waiting woman, who, in everything that she\nsaw, praised her mistress for her discretion. \"Egad!\" thought he, as he\nwas eating, \"I am delighted to have found my way here. This example\ndemonstrates to me how wisely I have acted in not listening to\nflatterers, who praise all princes very shamelessly, concealing our\ndefects from us, or representing them to us as perfections; but as for\nme, I shall never be their dupe; I know my own defects, God be thanked.\"\nPoor Desire quite thought he was right, and little imagined that those\nwho had praised his nose had ridiculed it in their hearts, as the\nwaiting woman was ridiculing the fairy; for the Prince observed that she\nturned her head aside every now and then to laugh. With regard to\nhimself, he did not say a word, but ate away as fast as he could.\n\"Prince,\" said the fairy to him, when he began to be satisfied, \"move a\nlittle I entreat you; your nose makes so large a shadow that it prevents\nme from seeing what is on my plate. By the way, with regard to your\nfather: I went to his court when he was quite a child; but it is forty\nyears since I first retired into this solitude. Tell me a little how\nthings are going on at court now; are the ladies still as fond of\nrunning about? In my time they used to go on the same day to the\npromenade, to the assembly, to the theater, to the ball--But how long\nyour nose is! I cannot grow used to it.\" \"In truth, madam,\" answered\nDesire, \"do not say any more about my nose; it is as it is, and in what\ndoes it concern you? I am contented with it, and do not wish that it was\nany shorter; everyone to his taste.\" \"Oh, I perceive now I have hurt\nyour feelings, my poor Desire,\" said the fairy, \"but I did not intend to\ndo so; on the contrary, I am your friend, and I wish to do you a\nservice; but notwithstanding that, I cannot help being shocked at your\nnose; I will not, however, mention it to you again; I will even\nconstrain myself to think that you are snub-nosed; though in truth there\nare materials enough in it to make three reasonable noses.\"\n\nDesire, who had finished his supper, grew so tired of the fairy's\ntedious prattle about his nose that he sprang on his horse and rode away\nfrom the cavern. He continued his journey; and wherever he went, he\nthought that everybody was mad, for everybody talked about his nose;\nnevertheless, he had been so accustomed to hear it asserted that his\nnose was handsome, that he could not reconcile to himself the idea that\nit was too long.\n\nThe old fairy, who wished to do him a service in spite of himself,\ndetermined to shut up Mignonetta in a crystal palace, and place this\npalace in the Prince's road. Desire, transported with joy, strove to\nbreak it; but he could not succeed: in despair, he wished to approach\nnear it, so as at least to speak to the Princess, who, on her part,\nstretched her hand close to the crystal wall of the palace. He was very\nanxious to kiss her hand; but turn his head which way he would, he could\nnot place his mouth near it, his nose constantly preventing him. He then\nperceived for the first time its extraordinary length, and feeling all\nover it with his hand, \"I must confess,\" said he, \"that my nose is too\nlarge.\" At the moment he pronounced those words, the crystal palace\nvanished, and the fairy appeared leading Mignonetta by the hand, and\nsaying: \"Confess that you are greatly obliged to me. I vainly wished to\nspeak to you about your nose; but you would never have acknowledged its\ndefect unless it had become an obstacle to your wishes. In this way\nself-love conceals from us all the defects of our minds and bodies. In\nvain reason endeavors to unveil them to us; we can never perceive them\nuntil the same self-love that blinds us to them finds them to be opposed\nto its interests.\" Desire, whose nose had become an ordinary nose,\nprofited by this lesson. He married Mignonetta, and lived very happily\nwith her to a good old age.\n\n\n\n\n_The Yellow Dwarf_\n\n\nTHERE once lived a widowed Queen, who had one daughter. There had been\nseveral other children, you must know, but one by one they had died,\nuntil the beautiful Princess All-fair was the only child left.\n\nTime passed on, and every day the maiden grew more and more lovely, and,\nto tell the truth, she not only grew lovelier, but she also became very\nvain indeed.\n\nWell, by the time she reached the age of eighteen, All-fair was so\ncharming that she had won the hearts of twenty noble kings, and they\nwere all courting her at the same time.\n\nBut never a smile did they get from the fair Princess. There was not a\nman living, be he king or peasant, who was good enough to become her\nhusband, she said.\n\nSo when the twenty kings heard this, nineteen of them took their hats at\nonce, and set off in a body to search for brides who were a little less\ncharming and a little easier to please.\n\nBut the twentieth man, the King of the Golden Mines, was so much in\nlove with All-fair, that he stayed behind in the hope that she would\nchange her mind.\n\n\"This will never do,\" said the Queen one day. \"Here am I getting quite\nold, and I want to see All-fair safely married and settled down before I\ndie. I must go and visit the Desert Fairy, and see if she will give me\nsome advice as to how I can manage my stubborn daughter.\"\n\nNow you must know that it was a very hard task indeed to reach the\nDesert Fairy, for she was guarded by two fierce and terrible lions. The\nonly way to get past the animals was to throw them a huge cake made from\ncrocodiles' eggs, millet, and sugar candy.\n\nSo the Queen set to work, and with her own royal hands she prepared one\nof these cakes; then she placed it in a basket and set out for the home\nof the Desert Fairy.\n\nWell, the day was hot, and the cake was heavy, and before long the Queen\nwas lying fast asleep under a big tree.\n\nSuddenly a terrible roar awakened her, and she looked round for her cake\nto throw to the angry lions, but to her horror it was gone.\n\n\"What is to become of me?\" cried the poor Queen in terror, and she burst\ninto tears.\n\n\"Hem! hem!\" cried a small voice, and the Queen looked all around her to\nsee who could be speaking.\n\nAt last she looked upward, and there, in the branches of the big orange\ntree overhead, sat a little yellow man. He was just half a yard high,\nand he was eating oranges as quickly as ever he could; in fact, he\ndidn't even stop eating while he spoke to the Queen, which, of course,\nwas very rude.\n\n\"Ah, Queen!\" he went on, \"there is only one way by which you can escape\nthe lions, and that is by letting me marry your daughter.\"\n\nThe Queen was so surprised that she even stopped crying. The idea of\nthat hideous little creature marrying her beautiful daughter was quite\nabsurd, and she was just about to tell him so when again she heard the\ndreadful roaring of the lions. \"Be quick and make up your mind!\" cried\nthe Yellow Dwarf. (He was called the Yellow Dwarf, you know, because he\nlived in the orange tree, and he had eaten so much of the fruit that his\nskin had become the same color.) \"Just remember you have no cake to\nthrow to the lions.\"\n\nSo, to save her life, the Queen was forced to give her consent to a\nmarriage between the Yellow Dwarf and her beautiful daughter.\n\nNo sooner did she agree to the match than she began to feel very drowsy,\nand the next minute the Queen found herself safely back in her own\npalace.\n\nShe was so filled with sadness at the thought of her promise to the\ndwarf that a fit of deep gloom settled upon her, and for weeks she never\nsmiled.\n\nThe Princess was quite at a loss to know what had come over her mother;\nso in the end she, too, made up her mind to visit the Desert Fairy in\nthe hope that she would be able to tell her what ailed the Queen.\n\nThen All-fair set to work and made a cake from the crocodiles' eggs,\nmillet, and sugar candy, and when it was ready she started off for the\nDesert Fairy's grotto.\n\nShe soon reached the fatal orange tree, and the fruit looked so very\ntempting that All-fair laid her cake upon the ground and began to pick\nand eat the ripe oranges.\n\nJust then one of the lions gave a terrible roar, and All-fair looked for\nher cake to throw to them. Alas, it was gone! and the maiden began to\nweep bitterly.\n\n\"Dry your eyes, lovely Princess!\" cried a voice, and, looking up,\nAll-fair spied the Yellow Dwarf.\n\n\"You need not trouble to go to the Desert Fairy,\" went on the dwarf,\n\"for I can tell you what ails your mother.\"\n\n\"I shall be obliged if you will tell me at once, then,\" replied\nAll-fair.\n\n\"Oh, it is all your fault,\" said the Yellow Dwarf.\n\n\"How dare you say such things!\" cried the Princess. \"It is nothing of\nthe sort.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, it is,\" answered the dwarf, with a grin. \"Your mother is\nsorry now that she promised you to me in marriage.\"\n\n\"I am sure my mother did not promise me to a fright like you,\" cried the\nangry Princess, \"and I will not marry you!\"\n\n\"Oh, please yourself,\" answered the Yellow Dwarf; \"but if you don't\nmarry me you will make a fine meal for the lions, that is all.\"\n\nJust at that moment the lions began to roar louder than ever.\n\n\"Well, to save my life,\" cried poor All-fair, \"I will agree to marry\nyou.\"\n\n\"I wouldn't have you now,\" said the dwarf, with an air of disdain.\n\n\"Oh, please do,\" begged All-fair, \"or I shall be torn to pieces by the\nlions!\"\n\n\"I'll marry you out of charity then,\" said the Yellow Dwarf. \"But don't\nsuppose that I really want a vain creature like you.\"\n\nAt that instant the Princess found herself growing very drowsy, and the\nnext minute she was back again at the palace, and on her finger was a\nring made of a single red hair, which she could not take off.\n\nAfter that All-fair grew sad, for she feared that the Yellow Dwarf might\nclaim her.\n\nOf course nobody knew the cause of her sadness, and they all wondered\nwhat it could be.\n\nSo the Queen's ministers held a cabinet meeting, and they agreed to ask\nthe Princess once more if she would marry, for they thought the\nexcitement of choosing her wedding gown would rouse her from her gloom.\n\nTo the great surprise of them all, All-fair said she was quite willing\nto do as they wished. So the King of the Golden Mines had his reward for\nwaiting so long, for the Princess chose him as her husband. He was very\nrich and powerful, and so gallant, that All-fair thought when once she\nwas his wife she need fear the Yellow Dwarf no more.\n\nThe wedding day arrived at last, and as the guests were on their way to\nthe church they saw a big box moving toward them, and on the top sat a\nvery ugly old woman.\n\n\"Stop!\" she cried, with a dreadful frown. \"Do you remember the promise\nyou made to my friend, the Yellow Dwarf? I am the Desert Fairy, and if\nAll-fair does not marry the dwarf she will taste my wrath, you will\nfind.\"\n\nThis speech made the brave King of the Golden Mines so angry that he\ndrew his sword, and shouted loudly:\n\n\"Begone, or I will take your evil life!\"\n\nAs soon as he uttered these words, off flew the top of the box, and out\ncame the Yellow Dwarf seated upon a big, black Spanish cat.\n\n\"Not so fast!\" cried the Yellow Dwarf. \"I am your rival, so do not vent\nyour wrath upon the Desert Fairy. I claim the Princess for my bride, and\nin token of her promise to me, on her finger you will find a ring made\nof a single red hair.\"\n\n\"It is false!\" cried the King of the Golden Mines, and he made a dash,\nsword in hand, for the Yellow Dwarf.\n\nBut quick as thought the dwarf drew his sword also, and he rode forward\non his Spanish cat.\n\nWell, they fought long and fiercely, but the King was not able to\novercome the dwarf because he was protected by two enormous giants, who\nstood one on each side of him.\n\nSuddenly the Desert Fairy stepped forward, and on her head was a wreath\nof big, curling snakes. Raising her lance, she struck the Princess such\na blow that All-fair sank fainting into her mother's arms.\n\n\"Revenge!\" shouted the King of the Golden Mines, and he rushed to the\naid of his love, as a brave man would, of course.\n\nBut, alas! he was too late, for the dwarf had torn her from her mother's\narms, lifted her on to his Spanish cat, and the next minute they were\nflying through the air beyond his reach.\n\nThe poor King was so surprised that all he could do was to gaze up\ntoward the clouds and wonder what would happen next. Suddenly a mist\ngathered before his eyes, and he felt himself being carried up into the\nair also.\n\nNow you must know that the ugly old Desert Fairy had fallen madly in\nlove with the King of the Golden Mines, and she had made up her mind\nthat he should never marry All-fair; so she carried him off to secure\nhim for herself.\n\nUp into the air they went until they reached a gloomy cave. Then the\nfairy set him down, and restored his sight by means of her magic arts.\n\n\"He is sure to fall in love with me,\" she cried to herself, \"now that\nAll-fair is safely out of the way!\"\n\nBut it was not a bit of use, for she was so ugly that the King only\nlooked the other way the whole time, and this made her very angry\nindeed.\n\nSo the fairy tried another plan. She took the form of a beautiful\nmaiden, and placed the King in a splendid chariot, drawn by two\nsnow-white swans.\n\nThen she, too, stepped in, and together they sailed away through the\nair.\n\n\"He'll never resist my charms this time,\" she said to herself. But she\nfound out her mistake very soon, I can tell you. You see, although the\nfairy could change her form at will, her feet always remained the same,\nand the King caught sight of two ugly webbed feet, that looked as if\nthey belonged to a griffin; so he was not deceived at all, and knew her\nto be the Desert Fairy, in spite of the disguise.\n\nOn and on they went, and once the King chanced to look downward. There\nhe saw a castle built of bright polished steel, and on the balcony stood\nAll-fair weeping very bitterly.\n\nAll-fair chanced to look upward, and she spied the chariot drawn by the\nsnow-white swans. Although it passed along very quickly, she could see\nthe King seated inside with a lovely maiden, and as she did not know it\nwas the Desert Fairy, she felt very jealous indeed.\n\nSoon the chariot alighted at a lonely palace, shut in by a wall of\nemeralds on one side and the sea on the other.\n\nWell, the King just cast his eyes around the place, and made up his mind\nnot to stay there long.\n\n\"I'll escape somehow,\" he said to himself; and he did, too, before very\nlong.\n\nHe pretended to be in love with the Desert Fairy, and this pleased and\nflattered her so much that she began to treat him very kindly indeed.\nShe even allowed him to walk alone on the seashore for half an hour each\nday.\n\nOne morning as the King stood upon the beach he was surprised to see a\ncharming mermaid rise up from the water.\n\n\"King of the Golden Mines,\" she said, \"I know your story, and have the\npower to set you free. I can also restore your Princess All-fair to you\nonce more. Now, as I am an enemy of the Desert Fairy, I will do this for\nyou.\"\n\nThe King thanked her, of course, and the mermaid bade him set himself\nupon her tail, and away they sailed at full speed across the blue ocean\nuntil they had gone many miles.\n\n\"The Princess, you must know,\" said the mermaid, \"is being kept a\nprisoner by the Yellow Dwarf. She is in a bright steel castle, and in\nanother hour we shall reach the place.\"\n\nOn they went still farther, and at length the mermaid set the King down\nupon the seashore.\n\n\"The rest of the journey,\" she said, \"you must take alone, and you will\nhave many enemies to fight before you reach the Princess. But,\" she\nadded, \"I will present you with this magic sword, which will overcome\neverything, so long as you never let it out of your hand.\"\n\nThe King took the sword, and thanked the mermaid again and again, and\nthen he set out to seek the steel castle.\n\nBut before he had gone a hundred yards, four terrible griffins attacked\nhim, and the King stood a good chance of being torn to pieces by their\nlong claws. Just in time, however, he remembered his magic sword, and no\nsooner did the four griffins behold it than they sank to the ground,\nblinded by its brightness.\n\nAfter that it was an easy matter to cut off their heads, and the King\nwent on his way again.\n\n[Illustration: THE MERMAID TAKING THE KING OF THE GOLDEN MINES TO THE\nSTEEL CASTLE]\n\nSoon after he met six big dragons, and each one was covered with scales\nlike cast iron. But by means of his magic sword the King was able to\nkill them also, and then he hoped his troubles were nearly over.\n\nAlas! before he had gone many yards, twenty-four nymphs, all lovely as\nthe sun, set themselves right in his path.\n\n\"Our business,\" they said, \"is to keep you from reaching the steel\ncastle. If we let you pass, all our lives will be sacrificed. We have\ndone you no harm, so do go back again that our innocent lives may be\nspared.\"\n\nWell, the King scarcely knew how to act; it seemed a pity to destroy\nsuch lovely creatures, and yet get to the steel castle he must.\n\n\"Strike! Strike!\" cried a voice loudly, \"or you will lose your Princess\nforever!\"\n\nSo his Majesty destroyed the whole twenty-four of them, and at that\nmoment the steel castle appeared in sight.\n\nOn the balcony stood All-fair, just as she had been when he passed\nthrough the air in the chariot drawn by swans.\n\n\"Princess,\" he cried, \"your faithful lover has returned at last!\"\n\n\"Faithful indeed!\" replied All-fair angrily. \"You were not faithful when\nI saw you being carried through the air in company with a beautiful\nmaiden.\"\n\n\"Indeed I was,\" replied the King of the Golden Mines. \"The maiden you\nsaw was the wicked Desert Fairy. She carried me off to an island, and\nthere I should be now, if a kind mermaid had not set me free.\"\n\nThen the King cast himself at her feet; but, unfortunately, he managed\nto drop the magic sword over the balcony.\n\nOut popped the ugly Yellow Dwarf from behind a big cabbage, where he was\nhiding, and he snapped up the sword in a trice.\n\nThe Princess gave a loud shriek when she set eyes on the dwarf, but the\nlittle man, who knew well what a treasure the sword was, just uttered\ntwo magic words, with the weapon in his hand, and there appeared two\nterrible giants, who at once bound the King in chains in spite of his\nstruggles.\n\n\"Now,\" chuckled the Yellow Dwarf, \"your lover is in my power. If he will\nconsent to your becoming my bride, I will set him free at once.\"\n\n\"Never!\" cried the King of the Golden Mines.\n\n\"Then take that,\" replied the Yellow Dwarf, and he buried the magic\nsword in the heart of the King.\n\nThe poor Princess was filled with sorrow at the loss of her lover, and\nshe cried loudly:\n\n\"Hideous dwarf, you have gained nothing by slaying my lover, for I will\nnever marry you. Since he is dead, I will die too.\"\n\nThen she seized the sword and plunged it into her own heart.\n\nThe good mermaid was very unhappy when she heard what had taken place,\nbut as her only power lay in the magic sword, she could help them no\nfurther.\n\nSo she changed them into two palm trees, growing side by side, and every\ntime the soft breezes blew, their branches caressed and kissed each\nother, so they were happy together, after all, in spite of the ugly\nYellow Dwarf.\n\n\n\n\n_Graciosa and Percinet_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a King and Queen who had one charming\ndaughter. She was so graceful and pretty and clever that she was called\nGraciosa, and the Queen was so fond of her that she could think of\nnothing else.\n\nEvery day she gave the Princess a lovely new frock of gold brocade, or\nsatin, or velvet, and when she was hungry she had bowls full of\nsugarplums, and at least twenty pots of jam. Everybody said she was the\nhappiest princess in the world. Now there lived at this same court a\nvery rich old Duchess whose name was Grumbly. She was more frightful\nthan tongue can tell; her hair was red as fire, and she had but one eye,\nand that not a pretty one! Her face was as broad as a full moon, and her\nmouth was so large that everybody who met her would have been afraid\nthey were going to be eaten up, only she had no teeth. As she was as\ncross as she was ugly, she could not bear to hear everyone saying how\npretty and how charming Graciosa was; so she presently went away from\nthe court to her own castle, which was not far off. But if anybody who\nwent to see her happened to mention the charming Princess, she would cry\nangrily:\n\n\"It's not true that she is lovely. I have more beauty in my little\nfinger than she has in her whole body.\"\n\nSoon after this, to the great grief of the Princess, the Queen was taken\nill and died, and the King became so melancholy that for a whole year he\nshut himself up in his palace. At last his physicians, fearing that he\nwould fall ill, ordered that he should go out and amuse himself; so a\nhunting party was arranged, but as it was very hot weather the King soon\ngrew tired, and said he would dismount and rest at a castle which they\nwere passing.\n\nThis happened to be the Duchess Grumbly's castle, and when she heard\nthat the King was coming she went out to meet him, and said that the\ncellar was the coolest place in the whole castle if he would condescend\nto come down into it. So down they went together, and the King seeing\nabout two hundred great casks ranged side by side, asked if it was only\nfor herself that she had this immense store of wine.\n\n\"Yes, sire,\" answered she, \"it is for myself alone, but I shall be most\nhappy to let you taste some of it. Which do you like, canary, St.\nJulien, champagne, hermitage sack, raisin, or cider?\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the King, \"since you are so kind as to ask me, I prefer\nchampagne to anything else.\"\n\nThen Duchess Grumbly took up a little hammer and tapped upon the cask\ntwice, and out came at least a thousand crowns.\n\n\"What's the meaning of this?\" said she, smiling.\n\nThen she tapped the next cask, and out came a bushel of gold pieces.\n\n\"I don't understand this at all,\" said the Duchess, smiling more than\nbefore.\n\nThen she went on to the third cask, tap, tap, and out came such a stream\nof diamonds and pearls that the ground was covered with them.\n\n\"Ah!\" she cried, \"this is altogether beyond my comprehension, sire. Some\none must have stolen my good wine and put all this rubbish in its\nplace.\"\n\n\"Rubbish, do you call it, Madam Grumbly?\" cried the King. \"Rubbish! why\nthere is enough there to buy ten kingdoms.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said she, \"you must know that all those casks are full of gold\nand jewels, and if you like to marry me it shall all be yours.\"\n\nNow the King loved money more than anything else in the world, so he\ncried joyfully:\n\n\"Marry you? why, with all my heart! to-morrow if you like.\"\n\n\"But I make one condition,\" said the Duchess; \"I must have entire\ncontrol of your daughter to do as I please with her.\"\n\n\"Oh, certainly, you shall have your own way; let us shake hands upon the\nbargain,\" said the King.\n\nSo they shook hands and went up out of the cellar of treasure together,\nand the Duchess locked the door and gave the key to the King.\n\nWhen he returned to his own palace Graciosa ran out to meet him, and\nasked if he had had good sport.\n\n\"I have caught a dove,\" answered he.\n\n\"Oh! do give it to me,\" said the Princess, \"and I will keep it and take\ncare of it.\"\n\n\"I can hardly do that,\" said he, \"for, to speak more plainly, I mean\nthat I met the Duchess Grumbly, and have promised to marry her.\"\n\n\"And you call her a dove?\" cried the Princess. \"I should have called her\na screech owl.\"\n\n\"Hold your tongue,\" said the King very crossly. \"I intend you to behave\nprettily to her. So now go and make yourself fit to be seen, as I am\ngoing to take you to visit her.\"\n\nSo the Princess went very sorrowfully to her own room, and her nurse,\nseeing her tears, asked what was vexing her.\n\n\"Alas! who would not be vexed?\" answered she, \"for the King intends to\nmarry again, and has chosen for his new bride my enemy, the hideous\nDuchess Grumbly.\"\n\n\"Oh, well!\" answered the nurse, \"you must remember that you are a\nPrincess, and are expected to set a good example in making the best of\nwhatever happens. You must promise me not to let the Duchess see how\nmuch you dislike her.\"\n\nAt first the Princess would not promise, but the nurse showed her so\nmany good reasons for it that in the end she agreed to be amiable to her\nstepmother.\n\nThen the nurse dressed her in a robe of pale green and gold brocade, and\ncombed out her long fair hair till it floated round her like a golden\nmantle, and put on her head a crown of roses and jasmine with emerald\nleaves.\n\nWhen she was ready nobody could have been prettier, but she still could\nnot help looking sad.\n\nMeanwhile the Duchess Grumbly was also occupied in attiring herself. She\nhad one of her shoe heels made an inch or so higher than the other, that\nshe might not limp so much, and put a cunningly made glass eye in the\nplace of the one she had lost. She dyed her red hair black, and painted\nher face. Then she put on a gorgeous robe of lilac satin lined with\nblue, and a yellow petticoat trimmed with violet ribbons, and because\nshe had heard that queens always rode into their new dominions, she\nordered a horse to be made ready for her to ride.\n\nWhile Graciosa was waiting until the King should be ready to set out,\nshe went down all alone through the garden into a little wood, where she\nsat down upon a mossy bank and began to think. And her thoughts were so\ndoleful that very soon she began to cry, and she cried and cried, and\nforgot all about going back to the palace, until she suddenly saw a\nhandsome page standing before her. He was dressed in green, and the cap\nwhich he held in his hand was adorned with white plumes. When Graciosa\nlooked at him he went down on one knee, and said to her:\n\n\"Princess, the King awaits you.\"\n\nThe Princess was surprised, and, if the truth must be told, very much\ndelighted at the appearance of this charming page, whom she could not\nremember to have seen before. Thinking he might belong to the household\nof the Duchess, she said:\n\n\"How long have you been one of the King's pages?\"\n\n\"I am not in the service of the King, madam,\" answered he, \"but in\nyours.\"\n\n\"In mine?\" said the Princess with great surprise. \"Then how is it that I\nhave never seen you before?\"\n\n\"Ah, Princess!\" said he, \"I have never before dared to present myself to\nyou, but now the King's marriage threatens you with so many dangers that\nI have resolved to tell you at once how much I love you already, and I\ntrust that in time I may win your regard. I am Prince Percinet, of whose\nriches you may have heard, and whose fairy gift will, I hope, be of use\nto you in all your difficulties, if you will permit me to accompany you\nunder this disguise.\"\n\n\"Ah, Percinet!\" cried the Princess, \"is it really you? I have so often\nheard of you and wished to see you. If you will indeed be my friend, I\nshall not be afraid of that wicked old Duchess any more.\"\n\nSo they went back to the palace together, and there Graciosa found a\nbeautiful horse which Percinet had brought for her to ride. As it was\nvery spirited he led it by the bridle, and this arrangement enabled him\nto turn and look at the Princess often, which he did not fail to do.\nIndeed, she was so pretty that it was a real pleasure to look at her.\nWhen the horse which the Duchess was to ride appeared beside Graciosa's,\nit looked no better than an old cart horse, and as to their trappings,\nthere was simply no comparison between them, as the Princess's saddle\nand bridle were one glittering mass of diamonds. The King had so many\nother things to think of that he did not notice this, but all his\ncourtiers were entirely taken up with admiring the Princess and her\ncharming page in green, who was more handsome and distinguished looking\nthan all the rest of the court put together.\n\nWhen they met the Duchess Grumbly she was seated in an open carriage\ntrying in vain to look dignified. The King and the Princess saluted her,\nand her horse was brought forward for her to mount. But when she saw\nGraciosa's she cried angrily:\n\n\"If that child is to have a better horse than mine, I will go back to my\nown castle this very minute. What is the good of being a Queen, if one\nis to be slighted like this?\"\n\nUpon this the King commanded Graciosa to dismount and to beg the Duchess\nto honor her by mounting her horse. The Princess obeyed in silence, and\nthe Duchess, without looking at her or thanking her, scrambled up upon\nthe beautiful horse, where she sat looking like a bundle of clothes, and\neight officers had to hold her up for fear she should fall off.\n\nEven then she was not satisfied, and was still grumbling and muttering,\nso they asked her what was the matter.\n\n\"I wish that page in green to come and lead the horse, as he did when\nGraciosa rode it,\" said she very sharply.\n\nAnd the King ordered the page to come and lead the Queen's horse.\nPercinet and the Princess looked at one another, but said never a word,\nand then he did as the King commanded, and the procession started in\ngreat pomp. The Duchess was greatly elated, and as she sat there in\nstate would not have wished to change places even with Graciosa. But at\nthe moment when it was least expected the beautiful horse began to\nplunge and rear and kick, and finally to run away at such a pace that it\nwas impossible to stop him.\n\nAt first the Duchess clung to the saddle, but she was very soon thrown\noff and fell in a heap among the stones and thorns, and there they found\nher, shaken to a jelly, and collected what was left of her as if she had\nbeen a broken glass. Her bonnet was here and her shoes there, her face\nwas scratched, and her fine clothes were covered with mud. Never was a\nbride seen in such a dismal plight. They carried her back to the palace\nand put her to bed, but as soon as she recovered enough to be able to\nspeak, she began to scold and rage, and declared that the whole affair\nwas Graciosa's fault, that she had contrived it on purpose to try and\nget rid of her, and that if the King would not have her punished, she\nwould go back to her castle and enjoy her riches by herself.\n\nAt this the King was terribly frightened, for he did not at all want to\nlose all those barrels of gold and jewels. So he hastened to appease the\nDuchess, and told her she might punish Graciosa in any way she pleased.\n\nThereupon she sent for Graciosa, who turned pale and trembled at the\nsummons, for she guessed that it promised nothing agreeable for her. She\nlooked all about for Percinet, but he was nowhere to be seen; so she had\nno choice but to go to the Duchess Grumbly's room. She had hardly got\ninside the door when she was seized by four waiting women, who looked so\ntall and strong and cruel that the Princess shuddered at the sight of\nthem, and still more when she saw them arming themselves with great\nbundles of rods, and heard the Duchess call out to them from her bed to\nbeat the Princess without mercy. Poor Graciosa wished miserably that\nPercinet could only know what was happening and come to rescue her. But\nno sooner did they begin to beat her than she found, to her great\nrelief, that the rods had changed to bundles of peacocks' feathers, and\nthough the Duchess's women went on till they were so tired that they\ncould no longer raise their arms from their sides, yet she was not hurt\nin the least. However, the Duchess thought she must be black and blue\nafter such a beating; so Graciosa, when she was released, pretended to\nfeel very ill, and went away into her own room, where she told her nurse\nall that had happened, and then the nurse left her, and when the\nPrincess turned round there stood Percinet beside her. She thanked him\ngratefully for helping her so cleverly, and they laughed and were very\nmerry over the way they had taken in the Duchess and her waiting maids;\nbut Percinet advised her still to pretend to be ill for a few days and\nafter promising to come to her aid whenever she needed him, he\ndisappeared as suddenly as he had come.\n\nThe Duchess was so delighted at the idea that Graciosa was really ill\nthat she herself recovered twice as fast as she would have done\notherwise, and the wedding was held with great magnificence. Now as the\nKing knew that, above all other things, the Queen loved to be told that\nshe was beautiful, he ordered that her portrait should be painted, and\nthat a tournament should be held, at which all the bravest knights of\nhis court should maintain against all comers that Grumbly was the most\nbeautiful princess in the world.\n\nNumbers of knights came from far and wide to accept the challenge, and\nthe hideous Queen sat in great state in a balcony hung with cloth of\ngold to watch the contests, and Graciosa had to stand up behind her,\nwhere her loveliness was so conspicuous that the combatants could not\nkeep their eyes off her. But the Queen was so vain that she thought all\ntheir admiring glances were for herself, especially as, in spite of the\nbadness of their cause, the King's knights were so brave that they were\nthe victors in every combat.\n\nHowever, when nearly all the strangers had been defeated, a young\nunknown knight presented himself. He carried a portrait, inclosed in a\nbox incrusted with diamonds, and he declared himself willing to maintain\nagainst them all, that the Queen was the ugliest creature in the world,\nand that the Princess whose portrait he carried was the most beautiful.\n\nSo one by one the knights came out against him, and one by one he\nvanquished them all, and then he opened the box, and said that, to\nconsole them, he would show them the portrait of his queen of beauty,\nand when he did so, everyone recognized the Princess Graciosa. The\nunknown knight then saluted her gracefully and retired, without telling\nhis name to anybody. But Graciosa had no difficulty in guessing that it\nwas Percinet.\n\nAs to the Queen, she was so furiously angry that she could hardly speak;\nbut she soon recovered her voice, and overwhelmed Graciosa with a\ntorrent of reproaches.\n\n\"What!\" she said, \"do you dare to dispute with me for the prize of\nbeauty, and expect me to endure this insult to my knights? But I will\nnot bear it, proud Princess. I will have my revenge.\"\n\n\"I assure you, madam,\" said the Princess, \"that I had nothing to do with\nit and am quite willing that you shall be declared queen of beauty.\"\n\n\"Ah! you are pleased to jest, popinjay!\" said the Queen, \"but it will be\nmy turn soon!\"\n\nThe King was speedily told what had happened, and how the Princess was\nin terror of the angry Queen, but he only said:\n\n\"The Queen must do as she pleases. Graciosa belongs to her!\"\n\nThe wicked Queen waited impatiently until night fell, and then she\nordered her carriage to be brought. Graciosa, much against her will, was\nforced into it, and away they drove, and never stopped until they\nreached a great forest, a hundred leagues from the palace. This forest\nwas so gloomy and so full of lions, tigers, bears, and wolves that\nnobody dared pass through it even by daylight, and here they set down\nthe unhappy Princess in the middle of the black night, and left her in\nspite of all her tears and entreaties. The Princess stood quite still at\nfirst from sheer bewilderment, but when the last sound of the retreating\ncarriage died away in the distance she began to run aimlessly hither and\nthither, sometimes knocking herself against a tree, sometimes tripping\nover a stone, fearing every minute that she would be eaten up by the\nlions. Presently she was too tired to advance another step, so she threw\nherself down upon the ground and cried miserably:\n\n\"O Percinet! where are you? Have you forgotten me altogether?\"\n\nShe had hardly spoken when all the forest was lighted up with a sudden\nglow. Every tree seemed to be sending out a soft radiance, which was\nclearer than moonlight and softer than daylight, and at the end of a\nlong avenue of trees opposite to her the Princess saw a palace of clear\ncrystal which blazed like the sun. At that moment a slight sound behind\nher made her turn around, and there stood Percinet himself.\n\n\"Did I frighten you, my Princess?\" said he. \"I come to bid you welcome\nto our fairy palace, in the name of the Queen, my mother, who is\nprepared to love you as much as I do.\" The Princess joyfully mounted\nwith him into a little sledge, drawn by two stags, which bounded off and\ndrew them swiftly to the wonderful palace, where the Queen received her\nwith the greatest kindness, and a splendid banquet was served at once.\nGraciosa was so happy to have found Percinet, and to have escaped from\nthe gloomy forest and all its terrors, that she was very hungry and very\nmerry, and they were a gay party. After supper they went into another\nlovely room, where the crystal walls were covered with pictures, and the\nPrincess saw with great surprise that her own history was represented,\neven down to the moment when Percinet found her in the forest.\n\n\"Your painters must indeed be diligent,\" she said, pointing out the last\npicture to the Prince.\n\n\"They are obliged to be, for I will not have anything forgotten that\nhappens to you,\" he answered.\n\nWhen the Princess grew sleepy, twenty-four charming maidens put her to\nbed in the prettiest room she had ever seen, and then sang to her so\nsweetly that Graciosa's dreams were all of mermaids, and cool sea\nwaves, and caverns, in which she wandered with Percinet; but when she\nwoke up again her first thought was that, delightful as this fairy\npalace seemed to her, yet she could not stay in it, but must go back to\nher father. When she had been dressed by the twenty-four maidens in a\ncharming robe which the Queen had sent for her, and in which she looked\nprettier than ever, Prince Percinet came to see her, and was bitterly\ndisappointed when she told him what she had been thinking. He begged her\nto consider again how unhappy the wicked Queen would make her, and how,\nif she would but marry him, all the fairy palace would be hers, and his\none thought would be to please her. But, in spite of everything he could\nsay, the Princess was quite determined to go back, though he at last\npersuaded her to stay eight days, which were so full of pleasure and\namusement that they passed like a few hours. On the last day, Graciosa,\nwho had often felt anxious to know what was going on in her father's\npalace, said to Percinet that she was sure that he could find out for\nher, if he would, what reason the Queen had given her father for her\nsudden disappearance. Percinet at first offered to send his courier to\nfind out, but the Princess said:\n\n\"Oh! isn't there a quicker way of knowing than that?\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said Percinet, \"you shall see for yourself.\"\n\nSo up they went together to the top of a very high tower, which, like\nthe rest of the castle, was built entirely of rock crystal.\n\nThere the Prince held Graciosa's hand in his, and made her put the tip\nof her little finger into her mouth, and look toward the town, and\nimmediately she saw the wicked Queen go to the King, and heard her say\nto him: \"That miserable Princess is dead, and no great loss either. I\nhave ordered that she shall be buried at once.\"\n\nAnd then the Princess saw how she dressed up a log of wood and had it\nburied, and how the old King cried, and all the people murmured that the\nQueen had killed Graciosa with her cruelties, and that she ought to have\nher head cut off. When the Princess saw that the King was so sorry for\nher pretended death that he could neither eat nor drink, she cried:\n\n\"Ah, Percinet! take me back quickly, if you love me.\"\n\nAnd so, though he did not want to at all, he was obliged to promise that\nhe would let her go.\n\n\"You may not regret me, Princess,\" he said sadly, \"for I fear that you\ndo not love me well enough; but I foresee that you will more than once\nregret that you left this fairy palace where we have been so happy.\"\n\nBut, in spite of all he could say, she bade farewell to the Queen, his\nmother, and prepared to set out; so Percinet, very unwillingly, brought\nthe little sledge with the stags and she mounted beside him. But they\nhad hardly gone twenty yards when a tremendous noise behind her made\nGraciosa look back, and she saw the palace of crystal fly into a million\nsplinters, like the spray of a fountain, and vanish.\n\n\"O Percinet!\" she cried, \"what has happened? The palace is gone!\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he answered, \"my palace is a thing of the past; you will see it\nagain, but not until after you have been buried.\"\n\n\"Now you are angry with me,\" said Graciosa in her most coaxing voice,\n\"though after all I am more to be pitied than you are.\"\n\nWhen they drew near the palace the Prince made the sledge and themselves\ninvisible, so the Princess got in unobserved, and ran up to the great\nhall where the King was sitting all by himself. At first he was very\nmuch startled by Graciosa's sudden appearance, but she told him how the\nQueen had left her out in the forest, and how she had caused a log of\nwood to be buried. The King, who did not know what to think, sent\nquickly and had it dug up, and sure enough it was as the Princess had\nsaid. Then he caressed Graciosa, and made her sit down to supper with\nhim, and they were as happy as possible. But some one had by this time\ntold the wicked Queen that Graciosa had come back, and was at supper\nwith the King, and in she flew in a terrible fury. The poor old King\nquite trembled before her, and when she declared that Graciosa was not\nthe Princess at all, but a wicked impostor, and that if the King did not\ngive her up at once she would go back to her own castle and never see\nhim again, he had not a word to say, and really seemed to believe that\nit was not Graciosa after all. So the Queen in great triumph sent for\nher waiting women, who dragged the unhappy Princess away and shut her up\nin a garret; they took away all her jewels and her pretty dress, and\ngave her a rough cotton frock, wooden shoes, and a little cloth cap.\nThere was some straw in a corner, which was all she had for a bed, and\nthey gave her a very little bit of black bread to eat. In this miserable\nplight Graciosa did indeed regret the fairy palace, and she would have\ncalled Percinet to her aid, only she felt sure he was still vexed with\nher for leaving him, and thought that she could not expect him to come.\n\nMeanwhile the Queen had sent for an old fairy, as malicious as herself,\nand said to her:\n\n\"You must find me some task for this fine Princess which she cannot\npossibly do, for I mean to punish her, and if she does not do what I\norder, she will not be able to say that I am unjust.\" So the old fairy\nsaid she would think it over, and come again the next day. When she\nreturned she brought with her a skein of thread, three times as big as\nherself; it was so fine that a breath of air would break it, and so\ntangled that it was impossible to see the beginning or the end of it.\n\nThe Queen sent for Graciosa, and said to her:\n\n\"Do you see this skein? Set your clumsy fingers to work upon it, for I\nmust have it disentangled by sunset, and if you break a single thread it\nwill be the worse for you.\" So saying she left her, locking the door\nbehind her with three keys.\n\nThe Princess stood dismayed at the sight of the terrible skein. If she\ndid but turn it over to see where to begin, she broke a thousand\nthreads, and not one could she disentangle. At last she threw it into\nthe middle of the floor, crying:\n\n\"O Percinet! this fatal skein will be the death of me if you will not\nforgive me and help me once more.\"\n\nAnd immediately in came Percinet as easily as if he had all the keys in\nhis own possession.\n\n\"Here I am, Princess, as much as ever at your service,\" said he, \"though\nreally you are not very kind to me.\"\n\nThen he just stroked the skein with his wand, and all the broken threads\njoined themselves together, and the whole skein wound itself smoothly\noff in the most surprising manner, and the Prince, turning to Graciosa,\nasked if there was nothing else that she wished him to do for her, and\nif the time would never come when she would wish for him for his own\nsake.\n\n\"Don't be vexed with me, Percinet,\" she said. \"I am unhappy enough\nwithout that.\"\n\n\"But why should you be unhappy, my Princess?\" cried he. \"Only come with\nme and we shall be as happy together as the day is long.\"\n\n\"But suppose you get tired of me?\" said Graciosa.\n\nThe Prince was so grieved at this want of confidence that he left her\nwithout another word.\n\nThe wicked Queen was in such a hurry to punish Graciosa that she thought\nthe sun would never set; and indeed it was before the appointed time\nthat she came with her four fairies, and as she fitted the three keys\ninto the locks she said:\n\n\"I'll venture to say that the idle minx has not done anything at\nall--she prefers to sit with her hands before her to keep them white.\"\n\nBut as soon as she entered, Graciosa presented her with the ball of\nthread in perfect order, so that she had no fault to find, and could\nonly pretend to discover that it was soiled, for which imaginary fault\nshe gave Graciosa a blow on each cheek, that made her white-and-pink\nskin turn green and yellow. And then she sent her back to be locked into\nthe garret once more.\n\nThen the Queen sent for the fairy again and scolded her furiously.\n\"Don't make such a mistake again; find me something that it will be\nquite impossible for her to do,\" she said.\n\nSo the next day the fairy appeared with a huge barrel full of the\nfeathers of all sorts of birds. There were feathers from nightingales,\ncanaries, goldfinches, linnets, tomtits, parrots, owls, sparrows, doves,\nostriches, bustards, peacocks, larks, partridges, and every sort that\nyou can think of. These feathers were all mixed up in such confusion\nthat the birds themselves could not have chosen out their own. \"Here,\"\nsaid the fairy, \"is a little task which it will take all your prisoner's\nskill and patience to accomplish. Tell her to pick out and lay in a\nseparate heap the feathers of each bird. She would need to be an\nenchanter to do it.\"\n\nThe Queen was more than delighted at the thought of the despair this\ntask would cause the Princess. She sent for her, and with the same\nthreats as before locked her up with the three keys, ordering that all\nthe feathers should be sorted by sunset. Graciosa set to work at once,\nbut before she had taken out a dozen feathers she found that it was\nperfectly impossible to know one from another.\n\n\"Ah, well,\" she sighed, \"the Queen wishes to kill me, and if I must die\nI must. I cannot ask Percinet to help me again, for if he really loved\nme he would not wait till I called him, he would come without that.\"\n\n\"I am here, my Graciosa,\" cried Percinet, springing out of the barrel,\nwhere he had been hiding. \"How can you still doubt that I love you with\nall my heart?\"\n\nThen he gave three strokes of his wand upon the barrel, and all the\nfeathers flew out in a cloud and settled down in neat little separate\nheaps all round the room.\n\n\"What should I do without you, Percinet?\" said Graciosa gratefully. But\nstill she could not quite make up her mind to go with him and leave her\nfather's kingdom forever; so she begged him to give her more time to\nthink of it, and he had to go away disappointed once more.\n\nWhen the wicked Queen came at sunset she was amazed and infuriated to\nfind the task done. However, she complained that the heaps of feathers\nwere badly arranged, and for that the Princess was beaten and sent back\nto her garret. Then the Queen sent for the fairy once more, and scolded\nher until she was fairly terrified, and promised to go home and think of\nanother task for Graciosa, worse than either of the others.\n\nAt the end of three days she came again, bringing with her a box.\n\n\"Tell your slave,\" said she, \"to carry this wherever you please, but on\nno account to open it. She will not be able to help doing so, and then\nyou will be quite satisfied with the result.\" So the Queen came to\nGraciosa and said:\n\n\"Carry this box to my castle, and place it upon the table in my own\nroom. But I forbid you on pain of death to look at what it contains.\"\n\nGraciosa set out, wearing her little cap and wooden shoes and the old\ncotton frock, but even in this disguise she was so beautiful that all\nthe passers-by wondered who she could be. She had not gone far before\nthe heat of the sun and the weight of the box tired her so much that she\nsat down to rest in the shade of a little wood which lay on one side of\na green meadow. She was carefully holding the box upon her lap when she\nsuddenly felt the greatest desire to open it.\n\n\"What could possibly happen if I did?\" she said to herself. \"I should\nnot take anything out. I should only just see what was there.\"\n\nAnd without further hesitation she lifted the cover.\n\nInstantly out came swarms of little men and women, no taller than her\nfinger, and scattered themselves all over the meadow, singing and\ndancing, and playing the merriest games, so that at first Graciosa was\ndelighted and watched them with much amusement. But presently, when she\nwas rested and wished to go on her way, she found that, do what she\nwould, she could not get them back into their box. If she chased them in\nthe meadow they fled into the wood, and if she pursued them into the\nwood they dodged around trees and behind sprigs of moss, and with peals\nof elfin laughter scampered back again into the meadow.\n\nAt last, weary and terrified, she sat down and cried.\n\n\"It is my own fault,\" she said sadly. \"Percinet, if you can still care\nfor such an imprudent Princess, do come and help me once more.\"\n\nImmediately Percinet stood before her.\n\n\"Ah, Princess!\" he said, \"but for the wicked Queen I fear you would\nnever think of me at all.\"\n\n\"Indeed I should,\" said Graciosa; \"I am not so ungrateful as you think.\nOnly wait a little and I believe I shall love you quite dearly.\"\n\nPercinet was pleased at this, and with one stroke of his wand compelled\nall the willful little people to come back to their places in the box,\nand then rendering the Princess invisible he took her with him in his\nchariot to the castle.\n\nWhen the Princess presented herself at the door, and said that the Queen\nhad ordered her to place the box in her own room, the governor laughed\nheartily at the idea.\n\n\"No, no, my little shepherdess,\" said he, \"that is not the place for\nyou. No wooden shoes have ever been over that floor yet.\"\n\nThen Graciosa begged him to give her a written message telling the Queen\nthat he had refused to admit her. This he did, and she went back to\nPercinet, who was waiting for her, and they set out together for the\npalace. You may imagine that they did not go the shortest way, but the\nPrincess did not find it too long, and before they parted she had\npromised that if the Queen was still cruel to her, and tried again to\nplay her any spiteful trick, she would leave her and come to Percinet\nforever.\n\nWhen the Queen saw her returning she fell upon the fairy, whom she had\nkept with her, and pulled her hair, and scratched her face, and would\nreally have killed her if a fairy could be killed. And when the Princess\npresented the letter and the box she threw them both upon the fire\nwithout opening them, and looked very much as if she would like to\nthrow the Princess after them. However, what she really did do was to\nhave a great hole as deep as a well dug in her garden, and the top of it\ncovered with a flat stone. Then she went and walked near it, and said to\nGraciosa and all her ladies who were with her:\n\n\"I am told that a great treasure lies under that stone: let us see if we\ncan lift it.\"\n\nSo they all began to push and pull at it, and Graciosa among the others,\nwhich was just what the Queen wanted; for as soon as the stone was\nlifted high enough, she gave the Princess a push which sent her down to\nthe bottom of the well, and then the stone was let fall again, and there\nshe was a prisoner. Graciosa felt that now indeed she was hopelessly\nlost; surely not even Percinet could find her in the heart of the earth.\n\n\"This is like being buried alive,\" she said with a shudder. \"O Percinet!\nif you only knew how I am suffering for my want of trust in you! But how\ncould I be sure that you would not be like other men and tire of me from\nthe moment you were sure I loved you?\"\n\nAs she spoke she suddenly saw a little door open, and the sunshine\nblazed into the dismal well. Graciosa did not hesitate an instant, but\npassed through into a charming garden. Flowers and fruit grew on every\nside, fountains plashed, and birds sang in the branches overhead, and\nwhen she reached a great avenue of trees and looked up to see where it\nwould lead her, she found herself close to the palace of crystal. Yes!\nthere was no mistaking it, and the Queen and Percinet were coming to\nmeet her.\n\n\"Ah, Princess!\" said the Queen, \"don't keep this poor Percinet in\nsuspense any longer. You little guess the anxiety he has suffered while\nyou were in the power of that miserable Grumbly.\"\n\nThe Princess kissed her gratefully, and promised to do as she wished in\neverything, and holding out her hand to Percinet, with a smile, she\nsaid:\n\n\"Do you remember telling me that I should not see your palace again\nuntil I had been buried? I wonder if you guessed that when that\nhappened, I should tell you that I love you with all my heart, and will\nmarry you whenever you like?\"\n\nPrince Percinet joyfully took the hand that was given him, and, for fear\nthe Princess should change her mind, the wedding was held at once with\nthe greatest splendor, and Graciosa and Percinet lived happily ever\nafter.\n\n\n\n\n_Drak, the Fairy_\n\n\nIN the last century there lived in the little town of Gaillac, in\nLanguedoc, a young merchant, who, having arrived at an age when he\nwished to settle down in life, sought a wife. Providing she was\nsweet-tempered, witty, rich, pretty, and of good family, he was not\nparticular about the rest; for Michael knew that he must be moderate in\nhis desires. Unhappily, he could not see in Gaillac one who appeared\nworthy of his choice. All the young girls had some known fault, not to\nmention those which were not known. At length he was told of a young\nlady of Lavaur, endowed with innumerable good qualities and a dowry of\ntwenty thousand crowns. This sum was exactly that required by Michael to\nestablish himself in business; so he instantly fell in love with the\nyoung lady of Lavaur. He obtained an introduction to the family, who\nliked his appearance, and gave him a good reception. But the young\nheiress had many suitors, from whom she hesitated to make a definite\nchoice. After several discussions it was decided by her parents that the\ncontending lovers should be brought together at a ball, and after having\ncompared them a choice should be made.\n\nOn the appointed day Michael set out for Lavaur. His portmanteau was\npacked with his finest clothes: an apple-green coat, a lavender vest,\nbreeches of black velvet, silk stockings with silver trees, buckled\nshoes, powder box, and a satin ribbon for his queue. His horse was\nharnessed with gay trappings. Furthermore, the prudent traveler, not\nhaving a pistol to put in his holsters, had slipped in a little bottle\nof wine and several slices of almond cake, in order to have something at\nhand to keep his courage up. For in reality now that the day had come he\nwas in a very anxious state, and when he saw in the distance the church\nof Lavaur he felt quite taken aback. He slackened the pace of his horse,\nthen dismounted, and in order to reflect upon what he should do at the\nball he entered a little wood and sat down on the turf. He drew from his\nholsters, to keep him company, the almond cake and the bottle; the\nlatter he placed between his knees, so that without thinking of it he\nvaried his reflections by sips of wine and mouthfuls of cake. These\ndistractions somewhat enlivened him and gave him confidence, so much so\nthat he began to discover in himself a number of virtues and\nexcellences, which could not fail to insure him the victory.\n\nThe sun having disappeared from the horizon he was about to pursue his\njourney, when he heard a sound behind him among the leaves, as of a\nmultitude of little footsteps trampling the grass in tune to the music\nof a flute and cymbals. Astonished, he turned around, and by the light\nof the first stars, he perceived a troop of fairies, who were running\nheaded by the King, Tambourinet. In their rear, turning over and over\nlike a wheel, was the buffoon of the little people--Drak, the fairy.\n\nThe fairies surrounded the traveler, and gave him a thousand welcomes\nand good wishes. Michael, who had drunk too freely not to be brave,\nwelcomed them as old acquaintances, and seeing their little eyes fixed\nupon the cake he began to crumble and throw it to them as one would to\nthe birds. In spite of their numbers, each one had his crumb with the\nexception of Drak, who arrived when everyone had finished. Tambourinet\nnext asked what was in the bottle, and passed it from hand to hand till\nit reached the buffoon, who, finding it empty, threw it away. Michael\nburst out laughing.\n\n\"That is justice, my little man,\" said he to the fairy. \"For those who\narrive late, there remains nothing but regret.\"\n\n\"I will make you remember what you have just said,\" cried Drak in anger.\n\n\"And how?\" asked the traveler ironically. \"Do you think, now, you are\nbig enough to revenge yourself?\"\n\nDrak disappeared without answering; and Michael, after taking leave of\nTambourinet, mounted his horse again.\n\nHe had not gone a hundred paces, when the saddle turned and threw him\nroughly to the ground. He arose a little stunned, rebuckled the straps,\nand mounted his horse again. A little farther on, as he was going over a\nbridge, the right stirrup bent slightly, and he found himself thrown in\nthe middle of the rivulet. He got out again in a very bad humor, and\nfell the third time over the pebbles in the road, hurting himself so\nmuch that he could hardly proceed. He began to think if he persisted in\nriding in the saddle he would be unable to present himself at all to the\nfamily of the young lady, so he decided to ride his horse barebacked,\nand take the saddle upon his shoulder. In this manner he made his entry\ninto Lavaur amid the loud laughter of the people who were sitting at\ntheir doors.\n\n\"Laugh! laugh! you great stupids,\" murmured Michael; \"is it very\nmarvelous that a man should carry his saddle when it will not carry\nhim?\"\n\nAt length he reached the inn, where he alighted, and asked for a room in\nwhich to change his traveling clothes. Having obtained a chamber, he\nproceeded with much care to open his portmanteau and lay out carefully\non the bed the articles for his toilet.\n\nHis first consideration was whether he should powder his hair white or\nyellow. Having decided it should be white, he seized the swans-down\npowder puff, and commenced the operation on the right side. But at the\nmoment when he had finished that side he saw that an invisible hand had\npowdered the other side yellow, so that his head had the appearance of\na half-peeled lemon. Michael, stupefied, hastened to mix the powder with\nthe comb, and finding himself too pressed for time to seek to think out\nthe reason of the mischance (he was always a slow thinker) stretched out\nhis hand toward the reel on which the satin for his queue was wound. The\nreel escaped from his fingers and fell to the ground.\n\n[Illustration: \"MICHAEL, PETRIFIED, STOOD MUTE, ... CONTEMPLATING WITH A\nFRIGHTENED AIR THIS INCONGRUOUS DANCE\"]\n\nMichael went to pick it up, but it seemed to roll before him. Twenty\ntimes he was about to seize it, and twenty times his impatient hands\nmissed it. One would have said he looked like a kitten playing with a\nreel. At length, seeing that time was going, he lost patience and\nresigned himself to wear his old ribbon.\n\nHe now hastened to put on his morocco shoes. He buckled the right, then\nhaving finished the left, he stooped to admire them, but as he did so\nthe right buckle fell to the ground. He replaced it, but no sooner had\nhe done so than the left followed suit. He had hardly put that right\nbefore the other one claimed his attention again in the same manner as\nbefore. He proceeded thus for some time, without being able to get both\nbuckles fastened together.\n\nFurious, he finished by putting on his traveling boots, and was about to\ntake his velvet breeches, when, immediately he approached the bed, lo!\nthe breeches began of their own accord to walk about the room.\n\nMichael, petrified, stood mute, with his arm extended, contemplating\nwith a frightened air this incongruous dance. But you may guess how he\nlooked when he saw the vest, coat, and hat join the breeches at their\nrespective places, and form a sort of counterfeit of himself, which\ncommenced to walk about and parody his attitudes.\n\nPale with fear he drew back to the window; but at this moment the\nMichaelesque figure turned toward him, and he saw under the cocked hat\nthe grimacing face of Drak, the fairy.\n\nMichael uttered a cry.\n\n\"It is you, you villain, is it? I'll make you repent of your insolence\nif you don't instantly give me back my clothes.\"\n\nSo saying, he rushed to take them; but the fairy, turning sharply\naround, ran to the other side of the room. Michael was beside himself\nwith anger and impatience, and rushed again toward the fairy, who this\ntime passed between his legs and rushed out on to the staircase. Michael\npursued him angrily up four flights of stairs till they arrived at the\ngarret, where the fairy dodged him round and round, and then skipped out\nof the window. Michael, exasperated, took the same route. The malicious\nfairy led him from roof to roof, dragging the velvet breeches, the vest,\nand coat in all the gutters, to Michael's despair. At length, after a\nperegrination of an hour or two across this Pyrenees of the cats and\nswallows, Drak gained a high chimney at the foot of which his pursuer\nwas forced to stop.\n\nDrak, leaning over toward Michael, who was out of breath and\ndiscouraged, said:\n\n\"You see, my good friend, you have forced me to spoil your ball dress;\nbut, happily, I see underneath me the copper of a laundress, where\neverything can be put right for you.\"\n\nWith these words Drak shook the velvet breeches over the chimney pot.\n\n\"What are you doing, rascal?\" cried Michael.\n\n\"I am sending your dress to the wash!\" said the fairy.\n\nAnd so saying, the vest, coat, and hat followed the breeches into the\nsmoking gulf.\n\nThe young gallant sat down upon the roof with a cry of despair; but\nrising immediately, said with resolution:\n\n\"Well, I'll go to the ball in my traveling dress.\"\n\n\"Hark!\" interrupted the fairy.\n\nThe sound of a bell rang out from a neighboring steeple. Midnight\nstruck! Michael counted the twelve strokes, and could not restrain a\ncry. It was the hour designated by the parents when they would proclaim\nto the suitors who had presented themselves at the ball their daughter's\nchoice for a husband. He wrung his hands in despair.\n\n\"Unhappy man that I am!\" he cried. \"When I arrive all will be over; she\nand her parents will laugh at me.\"\n\n\"And that would be justice, my big man,\" replied Drak, with a pointed\nsneer. \"For you have said yourself, '_For those who arrive late, there\nremains nothing but regret_.' This will serve you, I hope, as a lesson,\nand prevent you another time from laughing at the feeble; for from\nhenceforth you will know that the smallest are big enough to avenge\nthemselves.\"\n\n\n\n\n_Drakesbill and His Friends_\n\n\nDRAKESBILL was very little, and that is why some people called him Bill\nDrake; but, tiny as he was, he knew a thing or two. He was a great\nworker and laid up every cent that he earned; and, long before he was\nhalf as tall as a gray goose he had saved a hundred dollars in gold. The\nKing of the country, who never did anything but spend money, heard that\nDrakesbill had some gold pieces, and he made haste to borrow them. How\nvery kind and gracious he was until he heard the little yellow coins\njingle in his pocket! And how proud it made Drakesbill feel to have it\nsaid that he had lent money to the King!\n\nA year went by--two years, three years--and the King seemed to have\nforgotten him. He did not even offer to pay Drakesbill the interest, and\nthe little fellow was very uneasy lest he should lose all his money. At\nlast he made up his mind that he would go and see the King and tell him\nthat he needed the gold pieces very much.\n\nSo, early one morning, Drakesbill, as spruce and fresh as a young robin,\nwent down the highroad toward the King's palace, singing, \"Quack, quack,\nquack, when shall I get my money back?\"\n\nHe had not gone far when he met friend Fox coming home from his rounds\namong the farmyards.\n\n\"Good morning, my good neighbor,\" said friend Fox; \"where are you going\nso early in the day?\"\n\n\"I am going to the King to ask him to pay me what he owes me.\"\n\n\"Oh, take me with you!\"\n\n\"One can't have too many friends,\" thought Drakesbill. Then he said:\n\"Certainly I will take you; but you walk on four legs, and you will soon\nget tired. So make yourself very small, get into my mouth, creep under\nmy tongue--and I will carry you.\"\n\nFriend Fox thanked him very kindly, made himself very small, and was out\nof sight like a letter in a letterbox.\n\nThen Drakesbill was off again, all spruce and fresh as a spring morning,\nand still singing, \"Quack, quack, quack, when shall I get my money\nback?\"\n\nHe had not gone far when he met his lady friend Ladder leaning against\nher wall. \"Good morning, ducky darling,\" said the lady friend, \"whither\naway, so bold and gay, this fine, new day?\"\n\n\"I am going to the King to ask him to pay me what he owes me.\"\n\n\"Oh, take me with you!\"\n\n\"One can't have too many friends,\" thought Drakesbill. Then he said,\n\"Certainly I will take you; but you have such long wooden legs that you\nwill soon get tired. So make yourself very small, get into my mouth,\ncreep under my tongue--and I will carry you.\"\n\nThe Ladder thanked him, made herself very small, and went to keep\ncompany with friend Fox.\n\nThen Drakesbill was off again, spruce and fresh as any dapper little\ndandy, and singing, \"Quack, quack, quack, when shall I get my money\nback?\"\n\nHe had not gone far when he met his sweetheart, laughing River,\nwandering quietly in the sunshine.\n\n\"Good morning, my spoonbill,\" she said, \"whither do you go, so happy and\nslow, while the soft breezes blow?\"\n\n\"I am going to the King, you know, for he owes me money, and I want him\nto pay me back.\"\n\n\"Oh, take me with you!\"\n\n\"One can't have too many friends,\" thought Drakesbill. Then he said:\n\"Certainly I will take you; but you always sleep while you run, and you\nwill soon get tired. So make yourself very small, get into my mouth,\ncreep under my tongue--and I will carry you.\"\n\nThe River thanked him very kindly, and then, glou! glou! glou! she went\nto take her place between friend Fox and friend Ladder.\n\nAnd Drakesbill was off again, spruce and fresh as a busy bee, and\nsinging, \"Quack, quack, quack, when shall I get my money back?\"\n\nA little farther on he met neighbor Wasp-nest, taking his wasps out for\nsome fresh air.\n\n\"Good morning, neighbor Bill,\" said Wasp-nest; \"whither do we run, so\nfull of fun, in the bright warm sun?\"\n\n\"Oh, don't you know that the King owes me money? And I am going down to\nsee him and make him pay me,\" answered Drakesbill.\n\n\"Oh, take us with you!\"\n\n\"One can't have too many friends,\" thought Drakesbill. Then he said:\n\"Certainly I will take you; but there are so many of you that you will\nsoon get tired. So make yourself quite small, get into my mouth, creep\nunder my tongue--and I will carry you.\"\n\nNeighbor Wasp-nest thanked him very kindly, and then buzz, buzz, buzz,\nfile right! march! There wasn't much more room, but by getting close\ntogether everybody was made quite comfortable.\n\nAnd then Drakesbill went on singing.\n\nIn the afternoon he came to the great city where the King lived; and as\nhe marched straight up High Street, he sang as loud as he could, \"Quack,\nquack, quack! Oh, when shall I get my money back?\"\n\nWhen he came to the King's palace he climbed up the step; and then he\nstood on tiptoe, and knocked at the door, toc! toc! toc!\n\n\"Who's there?\" asked the doorkeeper, looking out through the keyhole.\n\n\"'Tis I, Drakesbill. I want to speak with the King.\"\n\n\"Speak with the King? Nonsense! That is easier said than done. The King\nis in the parlor counting out his money.\"\n\n\"That is just what I want to see him do,\" said Drakesbill. \"Tell him I\nam here, and then he will know my business.\"\n\nThe doorkeeper went into the parlor to speak with the King. But he was\nnot there; he was in the kitchen, just sitting down to dinner with a\nwhite napkin round his neck.\n\n\"Good! good!\" said the King. \"I know the rascal. Fetch him in and put\nhim with the turkeys and chickens.\"\n\nThe doorkeeper went back to the door.\n\n\"Walk in, sir!\"\n\n\"Good!\" said Drakesbill to himself. \"Now I can see how the folks eat at\nthe King's table.\"\n\n\"This way, this way!\" said the doorkeeper. \"Now step through that gate.\nThere you are!\"\n\n\"What! In the poultry yard? How? What?\"\n\nHow vexed the little fellow was! And no wonder.\n\n\"Just wait,\" he said at last. \"I think I'll show them a thing or two.\nQuack, quack, quack, when shall I get my money back?\"\n\nBut turkeys and chickens are queer things, as you know, and think\nthemselves a good deal better than other folks. When they saw what a\nfunny little fellow had come among them, and when they heard him singing\nhis queer song, they began to ask one another:\n\n\"Who is he? What is he doing here?\"\n\nThen they all rushed upon him, and if he had not had his wits about him\nthey would have pecked him to death in no time. But, as good luck would\nhave it, he remembered his friend Fox, and he cried out:\n\n \"Fox, friend Fox, from your hiding place\n Come quick, or sad will be my case!\"\n\nThen friend Fox, who was only waiting for these words, leaped out from\nhis hiding place, as big as life and as happy as a sunflower; and he\nthrew himself on the wicked fowls, and snip, snap! crish, crash! he\ntore them in pieces; and at the end of five minutes not one of them was\nleft alive. And Drakesbill, spruce and fresh as ever, began to sing\nagain, \"Quack, quack, quack, when shall I get my money back?\"\n\nBut the King was very angry when the poultry woman and the cook and the\ndoorkeeper all rushed into the kitchen where he was eating and told him\nwhat had happened. He ordered them to seize this naughty little\nDrakesbill and throw him into the well, and thus make an end of him.\n\n\"I am lost! I am lost!\" cried Drakesbill as he fell fluttering down into\nthe deep, dark hole. \"I can never climb out of this place.\"\n\nThen he happened to think of his lady friend Ladder, and he sang:\n\n \"Ladder, Ladder, from beneath my tongue\n Come quick, or soon my song will be sung!\"\n\nFriend Ladder, who had only been waiting for these words, leaped quickly\nout, as tall as a flag pole and as charming as a walking stick; and she\nstood with her feet at the bottom of the well and her two arms resting\nupon the top; and Drakesbill climbed nimbly on her back, and hip! hop!\nhup! how soon he was up and singing louder than ever, \"Quack, quack,\nquack, when shall I get my money back?\"\n\nThe King, who was still at the table, heard him singing, and the song\nmade him so angry that he almost choked.\n\n\"Can't anybody make that fellow hush?\" he cried.\n\nThen he ordered his men to build a great fire, and, when it was hot, to\nthrow Drakesbill into it and burn him up for a wicked wizard.\n\nBut Drakesbill was not much afraid this time; he remembered his\nsweetheart River. Just when the flames were the highest, and the captain\nof the King's men was going to toss him into them, he sang out:\n\n \"River, River, outward flow,\n Or into the fire I must go!\"\n\nThen friend River, who had only been waiting for these words, flowed\nquickly out, as strong as a storm and as swift as the wind; and she put\nout the fire, and drowned all the people that had kindled it; and, glou!\nglou! glou! she flowed into the King's palace and stood four feet deep\nin the great hall. And Drakesbill, spruce and fresh as ever, swam hither\nand thither, singing, \"Quack, quack, quack, when shall I get my money\nback?\"\n\nOf course, after all this had happened, the King was more angry than he\nhad ever been before; and when he saw Drakesbill swimming about so\ncoolly, while he had to stand on the table to keep his feet dry, he\ncould hardly hold himself.\n\n\"Bring the fellow here, and I'll finish him with the carving knife!\nbring him here quick!\" he cried.\n\nTwo servants rushed out and seized Drakesbill very rudely. They dragged\nhim toward the King, who was standing with drawn carving knife. The\nKing's brave men with swords in their hands were all around him. \"It is\nall over with me now,\" said Drakesbill. \"I don't see how I can live\nthrough this!\"\n\nBut just then he thought of his neighbor Wasp-nest, and he cried out:\n\n \"Wasp-nest, Wasp-nest, hither fly,\n Or Drakesbill soon will have to die!\"\n\nThen Wasp-nest, who had been waiting for these words, began to wake up\nhis wasps, and things changed very quickly.\n\n\"Buzz, buzz, buzz! Charge!\" cried Wasp-nest. And the wasps rushed out\nand threw themselves upon the King and his brave men, and stung them so\nbadly that they ran and jumped right out from the windows, and nobody in\nthe palace ever saw them again.\n\nAs for Drakesbill, he could only sit still and wonder what was going to\nhappen next. But after a while he remembered his money, and began to\nsing as before. Then, as the house was very still, he thought that he\nmight as well look around a little while; perhaps he would find his\nhundred yellow pieces of gold.\n\nIt was of no use, however. He peeped into all the corners and opened all\nthe drawers. There was not a dollar in the house. The King had spent\neverything.\n\nBy and by Drakesbill found his way into the room where the King's throne\nstood, and as he was very tired he sat down to rest among the cushions\nof velvet and gold.\n\nWhen the people saw the King and his brave men running away from the\nwasps they felt sure that they would never come back. So they crowded\ninto the palace to see what was the matter. And the only person they\nfound there was little Drakesbill sitting by himself on the throne. Then\nthey all shouted:\n\n \"The King is dead! long live the King!\n How glad we'll be to be ruled by this thing!\"\n\nAnd one of them ran and fetched the golden crown; and they put it on\nDrakesbill's head and hailed him as King. And Drakesbill, who had made\nup his mind not to be surprised at anything, sat very still and took it\nall as a matter of course.\n\n\"He doesn't look much like a king,\" whispered a few idle fellows; but\nthey were soon driven out of the hall and made to understand that it was\nwrong even to think such words.\n\n\"He will be the best king we have ever had,\" said others. And some who\nhad known him before said: \"A Drakesbill is better any day than a king\nwho does nothing but spend our money.\"\n\nAnd that is the way in which little Drakesbill became King. When he had\nbeen crowned, and the people had finished shouting, he made a speech\nfrom the throne. \"Ladies and gentlemen,\" he said, \"I am very hungry. Let\nus all go to supper.\"\n\n\n\n\n_Riquet with the Tuft_\n\n\nONCE upon a time there was a Queen who had a son, so ugly and misshapen\nthat it was doubted for a long time whether his form was really human. A\nfairy, who was present at his birth, affirmed, nevertheless, that he\nwould be worthy to be loved, as he would have an excellent wit; she\nadded, moreover, that by virtue of the gift she had bestowed upon him,\nhe would be able to impart equal intelligence to the one whom he loved\nbest. All this was some consolation to the poor Queen, who was much\ndistressed at having brought so ugly a little monkey into the world. It\nis true that the child was no sooner able to speak than he said a\nthousand pretty things, and that in all his ways there was a certain air\nof intelligence, with which everyone was charmed. I had forgotten to say\nthat he was born with a little tuft of hair on his head, and so he came\nto be called Riquet with the Tuft; for Riquet was the family name.\n\nAbout seven or eight years later, the Queen of a neighboring kingdom had\ntwo daughters. The elder was fairer than the day, and the Queen was so\ndelighted that it was feared some harm might come to her from her great\njoy. The same fairy who had assisted at the birth of little Riquet was\npresent upon this occasion, and in order to moderate the joy of the\nQueen she told her that this little Princess would have no gifts of mind\nat all, and that she would be as stupid as she was beautiful. The Queen\nwas greatly mortified on hearing this, but shortly after, she was even\nmore annoyed when her second little daughter was born and proved to be\nextremely ugly. \"Do not distress yourself, madam,\" said the fairy to\nher, \"your daughter will find compensation, for she will have so much\nintelligence that her lack of beauty will scarcely be perceived.\"\n\n\"Heaven send it may be so!\" replied the Queen; \"but are there no means\nwhereby a little more understanding might be given to the elder, who is\nso lovely?\" \"I can do nothing for her in the way of intelligence,\nmadam,\" said the fairy, \"but everything in the way of beauty; as,\nhowever, there is nothing in my power I would not do to give you\ncomfort, I will bestow on her the power of conferring beauty on any man\nor woman who shall please her.\" As these two Princesses grew up their\nendowments also became more perfect, and nothing was talked of anywhere\nbut the beauty of the elder and the intelligence of the younger. It is\ntrue that their defects also greatly increased with their years. The\nyounger became uglier every moment, and the elder more stupid every day.\nShe either made no answer when she was spoken to, or else said something\nfoolish. With this she was so clumsy that she could not even place four\npieces of china on a mantel shelf without breaking one of them, or drink\na glass of water without spilling half of it on her dress.\nNotwithstanding the attraction of beauty, the younger, in whatever\nsociety they might be, nearly always bore away the palm from her sister.\nAt first everyone went up to the more beautiful to gaze at and admire\nher; but they soon left her for the cleverer one, to listen to her many\npleasant and amusing sayings; and people were astonished to find that in\nless than a quarter of an hour the elder had not a soul near her, while\nall the company had gathered around the younger. The elder, though very\nstupid, noticed this, and would have given, without regret, all her\nbeauty for half the sense of her sister. Discreet as she was, the Queen\ncould not help often reproaching her with her stupidity, which made the\npoor Princess ready to die of grief.\n\nOne day, when she had gone by herself into a wood to weep over her\nmisfortune, she saw approaching her a little man of very ugly and\nunpleasant appearance, but magnificently dressed. It was the young\nPrince Riquet with the Tuft, who, having fallen in love with her from\nseeing her portraits, which were sent all over the world, had left his\nfather's kingdom that he might have the pleasure of beholding her and\nspeaking to her. Enchanted at meeting her thus alone, he addressed her\nwith all the respect and politeness imaginable. Having remarked, after\npaying her the usual compliments, that she was very melancholy, he said\nto her: \"I cannot understand, madam, how a person as beautiful as you\nare can be so unhappy as you appear; for, although I can boast of having\nseen an infinite number of beautiful people, I can say with truth that I\nhave never seen one whose beauty could be compared with yours.\"\n\n\"You are pleased to say so, sir,\" replied the Princess, and there she\nstopped.\n\n\"Beauty,\" continued Riquet, \"is so great an advantage that it ought to\ntake the place of every other, and, possessed of it, I see nothing that\ncan have power to afflict one.\"\n\n\"I would rather,\" said the Princess, \"be as ugly as you are and have\nintelligence, than possess the beauty I do and be as stupid as I am.\"\n\n\"There is no greater proof of intelligence, madam, than the belief that\nwe have it not; it is the nature of that gift, that the more we have,\nthe more we believe ourselves to be without it.\"\n\n\"I do not know how that may be,\" said the Princess, \"but I know well\nenough that I am very stupid, and this is the cause of the grief that is\nkilling me.\"\n\n\"If that is all that troubles you, madam, I can easily put an end to\nyour sorrow.\"\n\n\"And how would you do so?\" said the Princess.\n\n\"I have the power, madam,\" said Riquet with the Tuft, \"to give as much\nintelligence as it is possible to possess to the person whom I love\nbest; as you, madam, are that person, it will depend entirely upon\nyourself whether or not you become gifted with this amount of\nintelligence--provided that you are willing to marry me.\"\n\nThe Princess was stricken dumb with astonishment, and replied not a\nword.\n\n\"I see,\" said Riquet with the Tuft, \"that this proposal troubles you,\nand I am not surprised, but I will give you a full year to consider it.\"\n\nThe Princess had so little sense, and at the same time was so anxious to\nhave a great deal, that she thought the end of that year would never\ncome; so she at once accepted the offer that was made her. She had no\nsooner promised Riquet with the Tuft that she would marry him that day\ntwelve months than she felt herself quite another person from what she\nhad previously been. She found she was able to say whatever she pleased,\nwith a readiness past belief, and to say it in a clever, but easy and\nnatural manner. She immediately began a sprightly and well-sustained\nconversation with Riquet with the Tuft, and was so brilliant in her talk\nthat the Prince began to think he had given her more wit than he had\nreserved for himself. On her return to the palace, the whole court was\npuzzled to account for a change so sudden and extraordinary; for instead\nof the number of foolish things which they had been accustomed to hear\nfrom her, she now made as many sensible and exceedingly witty remarks.\nAll the court was in a state of joy not to be described. The younger\nsister alone was not altogether pleased, for, having lost her\nsuperiority over her sister in the way of intelligence, she now appeared\nby her side merely as a very unpleasing-looking person.\n\nThe King now began to be guided by his elder daughter's advice, and at\ntimes even held his council in her apartments. The news of the change of\naffairs was spread abroad, and all the young princes of the neighboring\nkingdoms exerted themselves to gain her affection, and nearly all of\nthem asked her hand in marriage. She found none of them, however,\nintelligent enough to please her, and she listened to all of them\nwithout engaging herself to one.\n\nAt length arrived a prince so rich and powerful, so clever and so\nhandsome, that she could not help listening willingly to his addresses.\nHer father, having perceived this, told her that he left her at perfect\nliberty to choose a husband for herself, and that she had only to make\nknown her decision. As the more intelligence we possess, the more\ndifficulty we find in making up our mind on such a matter as this, she\nbegged her father, after having thanked him, to allow her time to think\nabout it.\n\nShe went by chance to walk in the same wood in which she had met Riquet\nwith the Tuft, in order to meditate more uninterruptedly over what she\nhad to do. While she was walking, deep in thought, she heard a dull\nsound beneath her feet, as of many persons running to and fro and busily\noccupied. Having listened more attentively she heard one say, \"Bring me\nthat saucepan\"; another, \"Give me that kettle\"; another, \"Put some wood\non the fire.\" At the same moment the ground opened, and she saw beneath\nher what appeared to be a large kitchen, full of cooks, scullions, and\nall sorts of servants necessary for the preparation of a magnificent\nbanquet. There came forth a band of about twenty to thirty cooks, who\nwent and established themselves in an avenue of the wood, at a very long\ntable, and who, each with the larding pin in his hand and the tail of\nhis fur cap over his ear, set to work, keeping time to a harmonious\nsong.\n\nThe Princess, astonished at this sight, asked the men for whom they were\nworking.\n\n\"Madam,\" replied the chief among them, \"for Prince Riquet with the Tuft,\nwhose marriage will take place to-morrow.\" The Princess, still more\nsurprised than she was before, and suddenly recollecting that it was\njust a twelvemonth from the day on which she had promised to marry\nPrince Riquet with the Tuft, was overcome with trouble and amazement.\nThe reason of her not having remembered her promise was, that when she\nmade it she had been a very foolish person, and since she became gifted\nwith the new mind that the Prince had given her, she had forgotten all\nher follies.\n\nShe had not taken another thirty steps when Riquet with the Tuft\npresented himself before her, gaily and splendidly attired, like a\nprince about to be married. \"You see, madam,\" said he, \"I keep my word\npunctually, and I doubt not that you have come hither to keep yours, and\nto make me, by the giving of your hand, the happiest of men.\"\n\n\"I confess to you frankly,\" answered the Princess, \"that I have not yet\nmade up my mind on that matter, and that I doubt if I shall ever be able\nto do so in the way you wish.\"\n\n\"You astonish me, madam,\" said Riquet with the Tuft.\n\n\"I have no doubt I do,\" said the Princess; \"and assuredly, had I to deal\nwith a stupid person, with a man without intelligence, I should feel\ngreatly perplexed. 'A Princess is bound by her word,' he would say to\nme, 'and you must marry me, as you have promised to do so.' But as the\nperson to whom I speak is, of all men in the world, the one of greatest\nsense and understanding, I am certain he will listen to reason. You know\nthat, when I was no better than a fool, I nevertheless could not decide\nto marry you--how can you expect, now that I have the mind which you\nhave given me, and which renders me much more difficult to please than\nbefore, that I should take to-day a resolution which I could not then?\nIf you seriously thought of marrying me you did very wrong to take away\nmy stupidity, and so enable me to see more clearly than I saw then.\"\n\n\"If a man without intelligence,\" replied Riquet with the Tuft, \"who\nreproached you with your breach of promise, might have a right, as you\nhave just intimated, to be treated with indulgence, why would you,\nmadam, that I should receive less consideration in a matter which\naffects the entire happiness of my life? Is it reasonable that persons\nof intellect should be in a worse position than those that have none?\nCan you assert this--you who have so much, and who so earnestly desired\nto possess it? But let us come to the point, if you please. Setting\naside my ugliness, is there anything in me that displeases you? Are you\ndissatisfied with my birth, my understanding, my temper, or my manners?\"\n\n\"Not in the least,\" replied the Princess; \"I admire in you everything\nyou have mentioned.\"\n\n\"If that is so,\" rejoined Riquet with the Tuft, \"I shall soon be happy,\nas you have it in your power to make me the most pleasing-looking of\nmen.\"\n\n\"How can that be done?\" asked the Princess.\n\n\"It can be done,\" said Riquet with the Tuft, \"if you love me\nsufficiently to wish that it should be. And in order, madam, that you\nshould have no doubt about it, know that the same fairy who, on the day\nI was born, endowed me with the power to give intelligence to the person\nI chose, gave you also the power to render handsome the man you should\nlove, and on whom you should wish to bestow this favor.\"\n\n\"If such be the fact,\" said the Princess, \"I wish, with all my heart,\nthat you should become the handsomest and most lovable Prince in the\nworld, and I bestow the gift on you to the fullest extent in my power.\"\n\nThe Princess had no sooner pronounced these words than Riquet with the\nTuft appeared to her eyes, of all men in the world, the handsomest, the\nbest-made, and most attractive she had ever seen. There are some who\nassert that it was not the spell of the fairy, but love alone that\ncaused this metamorphosis. They say that the Princess, having reflected\non the perseverance of her lover, on his prudence, and on all the good\nqualities of his heart and mind, no longer saw the deformity of his\nbody, or the ugliness of his features; that his hump appeared to her\nnothing more than a good-natured shrug of his shoulders, and that\ninstead of noticing, as she had done, how badly he limped, she saw in\nhim only a certain lounging air, which charmed her. They say also that\nhis eyes, which squinted, only seemed to her the more brilliant for\nthis; and that the crookedness of his glance was to her merely\nexpressive of his great love; and, finally, that his great red nose had\nin it, to her mind, something martial and heroic. However this may be,\nthe Princess promised on the spot to marry him, provided he obtained the\nconsent of the King, her father. The King, having learned that his\ndaughter entertained a great regard for Riquet with the Tuft, whom he\nknew also to be a very clever and wise Prince, received him with\npleasure as his son-in-law. The wedding took place the next morning, as\nRiquet with the Tuft had foreseen, and according to the orders which he\nhad given a long time before.\n\n No beauty, no talent, has power above\n Some indefinite charm discern'd only by love.\n\n\n\n\n_The White Cat_\n\n\nTHERE was once a king who had three sons, all handsome, brave, and noble\nof heart. Nevertheless, some wicked courtiers made their father believe\nthey were eager to wear his crown, which, though he was old, he had no\nmind to resign. He therefore invented a plan to get them out of the\nkingdom and prevent their carrying out any undutiful projects. Sending\nfor them to a private audience, he conversed with them kindly, and said:\n\"You must be sensible, my dear children, that my great age prevents me\nfrom attending as closely as I have hitherto done to state affairs. I\nfear this may be injurious to my subjects; I therefore desire to place\nmy crown on the head of one of you; but it is no more than just that, in\nreturn for such a present, you should procure me some amusement in my\nretirement, before I leave the capital forever. I cannot help thinking\nthat a little dog, handsome, faithful, and engaging, would be the very\nthing to make me happy; so that, without bestowing a preference on\neither of you, I declare that he who brings me the most perfect little\ndog shall be my successor.\"\n\nThe Princes were much surprised at the fancy of their father to have a\nlittle dog, yet they accepted the proposition with pleasure; and\naccordingly, after taking leave of the King, who presented them with\nabundance of money and jewels, and appointed that day twelvemonth for\ntheir return, they set off on their travels.\n\nBefore separating, however, they took some refreshment together in an\nold palace about three miles out of town, where they mutually agreed to\nmeet in the same place on that day twelvemonth, and go all together with\ntheir presents to court. They also agreed to change their names and\ntravel incognito.\n\nEach took a different road; but it is intended to relate the adventures\nof only the youngest, who was the most beautiful, amiable, and\naccomplished prince in the world. As he traveled from town to town, he\nbought all the handsome dogs that fell in his way; and as soon as he\nsaw one that was handsomer than those he had, he made a present of the\nrest, for twenty servants would scarcely have been sufficient to take\ncare of all the dogs he was continually purchasing. At length, wandering\nhe knew not whither, he found himself in a forest; night suddenly came\non, and with it a violent storm of thunder, lightning, and rain. To add\nto his perplexity, he lost his way. After he had groped about for a long\ntime, he perceived a light, which made him suppose that he was not far\nfrom some house. He accordingly pursued his way toward it, and in a\nshort time found himself at the gates of the most magnificent palace he\nhad ever beheld. The entrance door was of gold, covered with sapphires,\nwhich shone so that scarcely could the strongest eyesight bear to look\nat it. This was the light the Prince had seen from the forest. The walls\nwere of transparent porcelain, variously colored, and represented the\nhistory of all the fairies that had existed from the beginning of the\nworld. The Prince, coming back to the golden door, observed a deer's\nfoot fastened to a chain of diamonds; he could not help wondering at the\nmagnificence he beheld, and the security in which the inhabitants seemed\nto live. \"For,\" said he to himself, \"nothing could be easier than for\nthieves to steal this chain, and as many of the sapphire stones as would\nmake their fortunes.\" He pulled the chain and heard a bell, the sound of\nwhich was exquisite. In a few moments the door was opened; yet he\nperceived nothing but twelve hands in the air, each holding a torch. The\nPrince was so astonished that he durst not move a step--when he felt\nhimself gently pushed on by some other hands from behind him. He walked\non in great perplexity till he entered a vestibule inlaid with porphyry\nand lapis stone, where the most melodious voice he had ever heard\nchanted the following words:\n\n \"Welcome, Prince, no danger fear,\n Mirth and love attend you here;\n You shall break the magic spell,\n That on a beauteous lady fell.\n\n \"Welcome, Prince, no danger fear,\n Mirth and love attend you here.\"\n\nThe Prince now advanced with confidence, wondering what these words\ncould mean; the hands moved him forward toward a large door of coral,\nwhich opened of itself to give him admittance into a splendid apartment\nbuilt of mother-of-pearl, through which he passed into others, so richly\nadorned with paintings and jewels, and so resplendently lighted with\nthousands of lamps, girandoles, and lusters, that he imagined he must be\nin an enchanted palace. When he had passed through sixty apartments, all\nequally splendid, he was stopped by the hands, and a large easy chair\nadvanced of itself toward the fireplace; then the hands, which he\nobserved were extremely white and delicate, took off his wet clothes,\nand supplied their place with the finest linen imaginable, adding a\ncomfortable wrapping gown embroidered with gold and pearls.\n\nThe hands next brought him an elegant dressing table, and combed his\nhair so very gently that he scarcely felt their touch. They held before\nhim a beautiful basin, filled with perfumes, for him to wash his face\nand hands, and afterwards took off the wrapping gown and dressed him in\na suit of clothes of still greater splendor. When his toilet was\ncomplete, they conducted him to an apartment he had not yet seen, and\nwhich also was magnificently furnished. There was a table spread for\nsupper, and everything upon it was of the purest gold adorned with\njewels. The Prince observed there were two covers set, and was wondering\nwho was to be his companion, when his attention was suddenly caught by a\nsmall figure not a foot high which just then entered the room and\nadvanced toward him. It had on a long black veil, and was supported by\ntwo cats dressed in mourning and with swords by their sides. They were\nfollowed by a numerous retinue of cats, some carrying cages full of\nrats, and others mouse traps full of mice.\n\nThe Prince was at a loss what to think. The little figure now\napproached, and throwing aside her veil, he beheld a most beautiful\nwhite cat. She seemed young and melancholy, and addressing herself to\nhim, she said: \"My Prince, you are welcome; your presence affords me the\ngreatest pleasure.\"\n\n\"Madam,\" replied he, \"I would fain thank you for your generosity, nor\ncan I help observing that you must be an extraordinary creature to\npossess, with your present form, the gift of speech and the most\nmagnificent palace I have ever seen.\"\n\n\"All this is very true,\" answered the beautiful cat; \"but, Prince, I am\nnot fond of talking, and least of all do I like compliments; let us\ntherefore sit down to supper.\"\n\nThe trunkless hands then placed the dishes on the table, and the Prince\nand White Cat seated themselves at it. The first dish was a pie made of\nyoung pigeons, and the next was a fricassee of the fattest mice. The\nview of the one made the Prince almost afraid to taste the other, till\nthe White Cat, who guessed his thoughts, assured him that there were\ncertain dishes at table which had been dressed on purpose for him, in\nwhich there was not a morsel of either rat or mouse. Accordingly, he ate\nheartily of such as she recommended. When supper was over, he perceived\nthat the White Cat had a portrait set in gold hanging to one of her\nfeet. He begged her permission to look at it, when, to his astonishment,\nhe saw the portrait of a handsome young man who exactly resembled\nhimself! He thought there was something most extraordinary in all this;\nyet, as the White Cat sighed and looked very sorrowful, he did not\nventure to ask any questions. He conversed with her on different\nsubjects, and found her extremely well versed in everything that was\npassing in the world. When night was far advanced, his hostess wished\nhim a good night, and he was conducted by the hands to his bedchamber,\nwhich was different still from anything he had seen in the palace, being\nhung with the wings of butterflies mixed with the most curious feathers.\nHis bed was of gauze, festooned with bunches of the gayest ribbons, and\nthe looking-glasses reached from the floor to the ceiling. The Prince\nwas undressed and put into bed by the hands without speaking a word. He,\nhowever, slept little, and in the morning was awakened by a confused\nnoise. The hands took him out of bed and put on him a handsome hunting\njacket. He looked into the courtyard and perceived more than five\nhundred cats busily employed in preparing for the field--for this was a\nday of festival. Presently the White Cat came to his apartment, and\nhaving politely inquired after his health, she invited him to partake of\ntheir amusement. The Prince willingly acceded, and mounted a wooden\nhorse, richly caparisoned, which had been prepared for him, and which he\nwas assured would gallop to admiration. The beautiful White Cat mounted\na monkey; she wore a dragoon's cap, which made her look so fierce that\nall the rats and mice ran away in the utmost terror.\n\nEverything being ready, the horns sounded and away they went. No hunting\nwas ever more agreeable. The cats ran faster than the hares and rabbits,\nand when they caught any they turned them out to be hunted in the\npresence of the White Cat, and a thousand cunning tricks were played.\nNor were the birds in safety, for the monkey made nothing of climbing up\nthe trees with the White Cat on his back, to the nests of the young\neagles. When the chase was over, the whole retinue returned to the\npalace. The White Cat immediately exchanged her dragoon's cap for the\nveil, and sat down to supper with the Prince, who, being very hungry,\nate heartily, and afterwards partook with her of the most delicious\nwines. He then was conducted to his chamber as before, and wakened in\nthe morning to renew the same sort of life, which day after day became\nso charming to him that he no longer thought of anything but of pleasing\nthe sweet little creature who received him so courteously. Accordingly,\nevery day was spent in new amusements. The Prince had almost forgotten\nhis country and relations, and sometimes even regretted that he was not\na cat, so great was his affection for his mewing companions.\n\n\"Alas!\" said he to the White Cat, \"how will it afflict me to leave you,\nwhom I love so much! Either make yourself a lady or make me a cat.\" She\nsmiled at the Prince's wish, but offered no reply.\n\nAt length the twelvemonth was nearly expired. The White Cat, who knew\nthe very day when the Prince was to reach his father's palace, reminded\nhim that he had but three days longer to look for a perfect little dog.\nThe Prince, astonished at his own forgetfulness, began to afflict\nhimself, when the cat told him not to be so sorrowful, since she would\nnot only provide him with a little dog, but also with a wooden horse\nwhich should convey him safely home in less than twelve hours.\n\n\"Look here,\" said she, showing him an acorn, \"this contains what you\ndesire.\"\n\nThe Prince put the acorn to his ear, and heard the barking of a little\ndog. Transported with joy, he thanked the cat a thousand times, and the\nnext day, bidding her tenderly adieu, he set out on his return.\n\nThe Prince arrived first at the place of rendezvous, and was soon joined\nby his brothers. They mutually embraced, and began to give an account of\ntheir success, when the youngest showed them only a little mongrel cur,\ntelling them that he thought it could not fail to please the King, from\nits extraordinary beauty. The brothers trod on each other's toes under\nthe table, as much as to say, \"We have little to fear from this\nsorry-looking animal.\" The next day they went together to the palace.\nThe dogs of the two elder brothers were lying on cushions, and so\ncuriously wrapped around with embroidered quilts that one would scarcely\nventure to touch them. The youngest produced his cur, and all wondered\nhow the Prince could hope to receive a crown for such a shabby present.\nThe King examined the two little dogs of the elder Princes, and declared\nhe thought them so equally beautiful that he knew not to which, with\njustice, he could give the preference. They accordingly began to\ndispute, when the youngest Prince, taking his acorn from his pocket,\nsoon ended their contention; for a little dog appeared which could with\nease go through the smallest ring, and was besides a miracle of beauty.\nThe King could not possibly hesitate in declaring his satisfaction; yet,\nas he was not more inclined than the year before to part with his crown,\nhe told his sons that he was extremely obliged to them for the pains\nthey had taken, and since they had succeeded so well, he wished they\nwould make a second attempt; he therefore begged they would take\nanother year in order to procure a piece of cambric fine enough to be\ndrawn through the eye of a small needle.\n\nThe three Princes thought this very hard; yet they set out, in obedience\nto the King's command. The two eldest took different roads, and the\nyoungest remounted his wooden horse, and in a short time arrived at the\npalace of his beloved White Cat, who received him with the greatest joy,\nwhile the trunkless hands helped him to dismount and provided him with\nimmediate refreshment. Afterwards the Prince gave the White Cat an\naccount of the admiration which had been bestowed on the beautiful\nlittle dog, and informed her of the further injunction of his father.\n\n\"Make yourself perfectly easy, dear Prince,\" said she; \"I have in my\npalace some cats who are perfect adepts in making such cambric as the\nKing requires; so you have nothing to do but to give me the pleasure of\nyour company while it is making and I will procure you all the amusement\npossible.\"\n\nShe accordingly ordered the most curious fireworks to be played off in\nsight of the window of the apartment in which they were sitting, and\nnothing but festivity and rejoicing was heard throughout the palace for\nthe Prince's return. As the White Cat frequently gave proofs of an\nexcellent understanding, the Prince was by no means tired of her\ncompany; she talked with him of state affairs, of theaters, of\nfashions--in short, she was at a loss on no subject whatever; so that\nwhen the Prince was alone he had plenty of amusement in thinking how it\ncould possibly be that a small white cat should be endowed with all the\nattractions of the very best and most charming of women.\n\nThe twelvemonth in this manner again passed insensibly away, but the cat\ntook care to remind the Prince of his duty in proper time. \"For once, my\nPrince,\" said she, \"I will have the pleasure of equipping you as suits\nyour high rank.\" And, looking into the courtyard, he saw a superb car,\nornamented all over with gold, silver, pearls, and diamonds, drawn by\ntwelve horses as white as snow, and harnessed in the most sumptuous\ntrappings; and behind the car a thousand guards, richly appareled, were\nwaiting to attend on the Prince's person. She then presented him with a\nnut: \"You will find in it,\" said she, \"the piece of cambric I promised\nyou; do not break the shell till you are in the presence of the King\nyour father.\" Then, to prevent the acknowledgments which the Prince was\nabout to offer, she hastily bade him adieu.\n\nNothing could exceed the speed with which the snow-white horses conveyed\nthis fortunate Prince to his father's palace, where his brothers had\njust arrived before him. They embraced each other, and demanded an\nimmediate audience of the King, who received them with the greatest of\nkindness. The Princes hastened to place at the feet of his majesty the\ncurious present he had required them to procure. The eldest produced a\npiece of cambric so extremely fine that his friends had no doubt of its\npassing through the eye of a needle, which was now delivered to the\nKing, having been kept locked up in the custody of his majesty's\ntreasurer all the time. But when the King tried to draw the cambric\nthrough the eye of the needle it would not pass, though it failed but\nvery little. Then came the second Prince, who made as sure of obtaining\nthe crown as his brother had done, but, alas! with no better success;\nfor though his piece of cambric was exquisitely fine, yet it could not\nbe drawn through the eye of the needle. It was now the turn of the\nyoungest Prince, who accordingly advanced, and opening an elegant little\nbox inlaid with jewels, took out a walnut and cracked the shell,\nimagining he should immediately perceive his piece of cambric; but what\nwas his astonishment to see nothing but a filbert! He did not, however,\nlose his hopes; he cracked the filbert, and it presented him with a\ncherry stone. The lords of the court, who had assembled to witness this\nextraordinary trial, could not, any more than the Princes his brothers,\nrefrain from laughing, to think he should be so silly as to claim the\ncrown on no better pretensions. The Prince, however, cracked the cherry\nstone, which was filled with a kernel; he divided it, and found in the\nmiddle a grain of wheat, and in that a grain of millet seed. He was now\nabsolutely confounded, and could not help muttering between his teeth,\n\"O White Cat, White Cat, thou hast deceived me!\" At this instant he felt\nhis hand scratched by the claw of a cat, upon which he again took\ncourage, and opening the grain of millet seed, to the astonishment of\nall present he drew forth a piece of cambric four hundred yards long,\nand fine enough to be threaded with perfect ease through the eye of the\nneedle.\n\nWhen the King found he had no pretext left for refusing the crown to his\nyoungest son, he sighed deeply, and it was easy to be seen that he was\nsorry for the Prince's success.\n\n\"My sons,\" said he, \"it is so gratifying to the heart of a father to\nreceive proofs of his children's love and obedience, that I cannot\nrefuse myself the satisfaction of requiring of you one thing more. You\nmust undertake another expedition. That one of you who, by the end of\nthe year, brings me the most beautiful lady shall marry her and obtain\nmy crown.\"\n\nSo they again took leave of the King and of each other, and set out\nwithout delay; and in less than twelve hours our young Prince arrived,\nin his splendid car, at the palace of his dear White Cat. Everything\nwent on as before till the end of another year. At length only one day\nremained of the year, when the White Cat thus addressed him: \"To-morrow,\nmy Prince, you must present yourself at the palace of your father and\ngive him a proof of your obedience. It depends only on yourself to\nconduct thither the most beautiful princess ever yet beheld, for the\ntime is come when the enchantment by which I am bound may be ended. You\nmust cut off my head and tail,\" continued she, \"and throw them into the\nfire.\"\n\n\"I!\" said the Prince hastily--\"I cut off your head and tail! You surely\nmean to try my affection, which, believe me, beautiful cat, is truly\nyours.\"\n\n\"You mistake me, generous Prince,\" said she; \"I do not doubt your\nregard, but if you wish to see me in any other form than that of a cat\nyou must consent to do as I desire, when you will have done me a service\nI shall never be able sufficiently to repay.\"\n\nThe Prince's eyes filled with tears as she spoke, yet he considered\nhimself obliged to undertake the dreadful task; and the cat continuing\nto press him with the greatest eagerness, with a trembling hand he drew\nhis sword, cut off her head and tail, and threw them into the fire. No\nsooner was this done than the most beautiful lady his eyes had ever seen\nstood before him, and ere he had sufficiently recovered from his\nsurprise to speak to her, a long train of attendants, who at the same\nmoment as their mistress were changed to their natural shapes, came to\noffer their congratulations to the Queen and inquire her commands. She\nreceived them with the greatest kindness, and ordering them to withdraw,\nthus addressed the astonished Prince:\n\n\"Do not imagine, dear Prince, that I have always been a cat, or that I\nam of obscure birth. My father was the monarch of six kingdoms; he\ntenderly loved my mother, and left her always at liberty to follow her\nown inclinations. Her prevailing passion was to travel, and a short time\nbefore my birth, having heard of some fairies who were in possession of\nthe largest gardens filled with the most delicious fruits, she had so\nstrong a desire to eat some of them that she set out for the country\nwhere they lived. She arrived at their abode, which she found to be a\nmagnificent palace, glittering on all sides with gold and precious\nstones. She knocked a long time at the gates, but no one came, nor could\nshe perceive the least sign that it had any inhabitant. The difficulty,\nhowever, did but increase the violence of my mother's longing, for she\nsaw the tops of the trees above the garden walls loaded with the most\nluscious fruits. The Queen, in despair, ordered her attendants to place\ntents close to the door of the palace; but, having waited six weeks\nwithout seeing anyone pass the gates, she fell sick of vexation and her\nlife was despaired of.\n\n\"One night, as she lay half asleep, she turned herself about, and\nopening her eyes, perceived a little old woman, very ugly and deformed,\nseated in the easy chair by her bedside. 'I and my sister fairies,' said\nshe, 'take it very ill that your majesty should so obstinately persist\nin getting some of our fruit; but since so precious a life is at stake,\nwe consent to give you as much as you can carry away provided you will\ngive us in return what we shall ask.' 'Ah, kind fairy!' cried the Queen,\n'I will give you anything that I possess, even my very kingdoms, on\ncondition that I eat of your fruit.' The old fairy then informed the\nQueen that what they required was that she should give them the child\nshe was going to have as soon as it should be born, adding that every\npossible care should be taken of it, and that it should become the most\naccomplished princess. The Queen replied that however cruel the\nconditions she must accept them, since nothing but the fruit could save\nher life. In short, dear Prince,\" continued the lady, \"my mother\ninstantly got out of bed, was dressed by her attendants, entered the\npalace, and satisfied her longing. Having eaten her fill, she ordered\nfour thousand mules to be procured and loaded with the fruit, which had\nthe virtue of continuing all the year round in a state of perfection.\nThus provided, she returned to the King my father, who, with the whole\ncourt, received her with rejoicings, as it was before imagined she would\ndie of disappointment. All this time the Queen said nothing to my father\nof the promise she had made to give her daughter to the fairies, so that\nwhen the time was come that she expected my birth she grew very\nmelancholy; till at length, being pressed by the King, she declared to\nhim the truth. Nothing could exceed his affliction when he heard that\nhis only child, when born, was to be given to the fairies. He bore it,\nhowever, as well as he could for fear of adding to my mother's grief,\nand also believing he should find some means of keeping me in a place of\nsafety, which the fairies would not be able to approach. As soon,\ntherefore, as I was born, he had me conveyed to a tower in the palace,\nto which there were twenty flights of stairs and a door to each, of\nwhich my father kept the key, so that none came near me without his\nconsent. When the fairies heard of what had been done, they sent first\nto demand me, and on my father's refusal, they let loose a monstrous\ndragon, which devoured men, women, and children, and which, by the\nbreath of its nostrils, destroyed everything it came near, so that even\nthe trees and plants began to die. The grief of the King was excessive,\nand, finding that his whole kingdom would in a short time be reduced to\nfamine, he consented to give me into their hands. I was accordingly laid\nin a cradle of mother-of-pearl, ornamented with gold and jewels, and\ncarried to their palace, when the dragon immediately disappeared. The\nfairies placed me in a tower, elegantly furnished, but to which there\nwas no door, so that whoever approached was obliged to come by the\nwindows, which were a great height from the ground. From these I had the\nliberty of getting out into a delightful garden, in which were baths,\nand every sort of cooling fruit. In this place was I educated by the\nfairies, who behaved to me with the greatest kindness; my clothes were\nsplendid, and I was instructed in every kind of accomplishment; in\nshort, Prince, if I had never seen anyone but themselves I should have\nremained very happy. One day, however, as I was talking at the window\nwith my parrot, I perceived a young gentleman who was listening to our\nconversation. As I had never seen a man but in pictures, I was not sorry\nfor the opportunity of gratifying my curiosity. I thought him a very\npleasing object, and he at length bowed in the most respectful manner,\nwithout daring to speak, for he knew that I was in the palace of the\nfairies. When it began to grow dark he went away, and I vainly\nendeavored to see which road he took. The next morning, as soon as it\nwas light, I again placed myself at the window, and had the pleasure of\nseeing that the gentleman had returned to the same place. He now spoke\nto me through a speaking trumpet, and informed me he thought me a most\ncharming lady, and that he should be very unhappy if he did not pass his\nlife in my company.\n\n\"I resolved to find some means of escaping from my tower, and was not\nlong in devising the means for the execution of my project. I begged the\nfairies to bring me a netting needle, a mesh, and some cord, saying I\nwished to make some nets to amuse myself with catching birds at my\nwindow. This they readily complied with, and in a short time I completed\na ladder long enough to reach to the ground. I now sent my parrot to\nthe Prince to beg he would come to the usual place, as I wished to speak\nwith him. He did not fail; and finding the ladder, mounted it, and\nquickly entered my tower. This at first alarmed me, but the charms of\nhis conversation had restored me to tranquillity, when all at once the\nwindow opened, and the Fairy Violent, mounted on the dragon's back,\nrushed into the tower. My beloved Prince thought of nothing but how to\ndefend me from their fury, for I had had time to relate to him my story\nprevious to this cruel interruption, but their numbers overpowered him,\nand the Fairy Violent had the barbarity to command the dragon to devour\nmy lover before my eyes. In my despair I would have thrown myself also\ninto the mouth of the horrible monster, but this they took care to\nprevent, saying my life should be preserved for greater punishment. The\nfairy then touched me with her wand and I instantly became a white cat.\nShe next conducted me to this palace, which belonged to my father, and\ngave me a train of cats for my attendants, together with the twelve\nhands that waited on your highness. She then informed me of my birth and\nthe death of my parents, and pronounced upon me what she imagined the\ngreatest of maledictions; that I should not be restored to my natural\nfigure until a young prince, the perfect resemblance of him I had lost,\nshould cut off my head and tail. You are that perfect resemblance, and\naccordingly you ended the enchantment. I need not add that I already\nlove you more than my life; let us therefore hasten to the palace of the\nKing your father, and obtain his approbation to our marriage.\"\n\nThe Prince and Princess accordingly set out side by side, in a car of\nstill greater splendor than before, and reached the palace just as the\ntwo brothers had arrived with two beautiful princesses. The King,\nhearing that each of his sons had succeeded in finding what he had\nrequired, again began to think of some new expedient to delay the time\nof his resigning the crown; but when the whole court with the King was\nassembled to pass judgment, the Princess who accompanied the youngest,\nperceiving his thoughts by his countenance, stepped majestically forward\nand thus addressed him:\n\n\"It is a pity that your majesty, who is so capable of governing, should\nthink of resigning the crown! I am fortunate enough to have six kingdoms\nin my possession; permit me to bestow one on each of the eldest princes,\nand to enjoy the remaining four in the society of the youngest. And may\nit please your majesty to keep your own kingdom, and make no decision\nconcerning the beauty of three princesses, who, without such a proof of\nyour majesty's preference, will no doubt live happily together!\"\n\nThe air resounded with the applauses of the assembly. The young Prince\nand Princess embraced the King, and next their brothers and sisters. The\nthree weddings immediately took place, and the kingdoms were divided as\nthe Princess had proposed.\n\n\n\n\n_Prince Cherry_\n\n\nLONG ago there lived a monarch who was such a very honest man that his\nsubjects entitled him the Good King. One day, when he was out hunting, a\nlittle white rabbit, which had been half killed by his hounds, leaped\nright into his majesty's arms. Said he, caressing it: \"This poor\ncreature has put itself under my protection, and I will allow no one to\ninjure it.\" So he carried it to his palace, had prepared for it a neat\nlittle rabbit hutch, with abundance of the daintiest food such as\nrabbits love, and there he left it.\n\nThe same night, when he was alone in his chamber, there appeared to him\na beautiful lady. She was dressed neither in gold, nor silver, nor\nbrocade, but her flowing robes were white as snow, and she wore a\ngarland of white roses on her head. The Good King was greatly astonished\nat the sight, for his door was locked, and he wondered how so dazzling a\nlady could possibly enter; but she soon removed his doubts.\n\n\"I am the Fairy Candide,\" said she, with a smiling and gracious air.\n\"Passing through the wood where you were hunting, I took a desire to\nknow if you were as good as men say you are. I therefore changed myself\ninto a white rabbit, and took refuge in your arms. You saved me and now\nI know that those who are merciful to dumb beasts will be ten times more\nso to human beings. You merit the name your subjects give you: you are\nthe Good King. I thank you for your protection, and shall be always one\nof your best friends. You have but to say what you most desire, and I\npromise you your wish shall be granted.\"\n\n\"Madam,\" replied the King, \"if you are a fairy, you must know without my\ntelling you the wish of my heart. I have one well-beloved son, Prince\nCherry. Whatever kindly feeling you have toward me, extend it to him.\"\n\n\"Willingly,\" said Candide. \"I will make him the handsomest, richest, or\nmost powerful prince in the world. Choose whichever you desire for him.\"\n\n\"None of the three,\" returned the father. \"I only wish him to be\ngood--the best prince in the whole world. Of what use would riches,\npower, or beauty be to him if he were an evil man?\"\n\n\"You are right,\" said the fairy; \"but I cannot make him good. He must do\nthat himself. I can only change his external fortunes; for his personal\ncharacter the utmost I can promise is to give him good counsel, reprove\nhim for his faults, and even punish him if he will not punish himself.\nYou mortals can do the same with your children.\"\n\n\"Ah, yes!\" said the King, sighing. Still he felt that the kindness of a\nfairy was something gained for his son, and died not long after, content\nand at peace.\n\nPrince Cherry mourned deeply, for he dearly loved his father, and would\nhave gladly given all his kingdoms and treasures to keep him in life a\nlittle longer. Two days after the Good King was no more, Prince Cherry\nwas sleeping in his chamber when he saw the same dazzling vision of the\nFairy Candide.\n\n\"I promised your father,\" said she, \"to be your best friend, and in\npledge of this take what I now give you\"; and she placed a small gold\nring upon his finger. \"Poor as it looks, it is more precious than\ndiamonds, for whenever you do ill it will prick your finger. If, after\nthat warning, you still continue in evil, you will lose my friendship\nand I shall become your direst enemy.\"\n\nSo saying she disappeared, leaving Cherry in such amazement that he\nwould have believed it all a dream save for the ring on his finger.\n\nHe was for a long time so good that the ring never pricked him at all,\nand this made him so cheerful and pleasant in his humor that everybody\ncalled him \"Happy Prince Cherry.\" But one unlucky day he was out hunting\nand found no sport, which vexed him so much that he showed his ill\ntemper by his looks and ways. He fancied his ring felt very tight and\nuncomfortable, but as it did not prick him he took no heed of this,\nuntil, re\u251c\u017antering his palace, his little pet dog, Bibi, jumped up upon\nhim, and was sharply told to get away. The creature, accustomed to\nnothing but caresses, tried to attract his attention by pulling at his\ngarments, when Prince Cherry turned and gave it a severe kick. At this\nmoment he felt in his finger a prick like a pin.\n\n\"What nonsense!\" said he to himself. \"The fairy must be making game of\nme. Why, what great evil have I done! I, the master of a great empire,\ncannot I kick my own dog?\"\n\nA voice replied, or else Prince Cherry imagined it: \"No, sire; the\nmaster of a great empire has a right to do good, but not evil. I--a\nfairy--am as much above you as you are above your dog. I might punish\nyou, kill you, if I chose; but I prefer leaving you to amend your ways.\nYou have been guilty of three faults to-day--bad temper, passion,\ncruelty. Do better to-morrow.\"\n\nThe Prince promised, and kept his word awhile; but he had been brought\nup by a foolish nurse who indulged him in every way, and was always\ntelling him that he would be a king one day, when he might do as he\nliked in all things. He found out now that even a king cannot always do\nthat; it vexed him and made him angry. His ring began to prick him so\noften that his little finger was continually bleeding. He disliked this,\nas was natural, and soon began to consider whether it would not be\neasier to throw the ring away altogether than to be constantly annoyed\nby it. It was such a queer thing for a king to have always a spot of\nblood on his finger! At last, unable to put up with it any more, he took\nhis ring off and hid it where he would never see it, and believed\nhimself the happiest of men, for he could now do exactly what he liked.\nHe did it, and became every day more and more miserable.\n\nOne day he saw a young girl so beautiful that, being always accustomed\nto have his own way, he immediately determined to espouse her. He never\ndoubted that she would be only too glad to be made a queen, for she was\nvery poor. But Zelia--that was her name--answered, to his great\nastonishment, that she would rather not marry him.\n\n\"Do I displease you?\" asked the Prince, into whose mind it had never\nentered that he could displease anybody.\n\n\"Not at all, my Prince,\" said the honest peasant maiden. \"You are very\nhandsome, very charming; but you are not like your father the Good King.\nI will not be your queen, for you would make me miserable.\"\n\nAt these words the Prince's love seemed all to turn to hatred. He gave\norders to his guards to convey Zelia to a prison near the palace, and\nthen took counsel with his foster brother, the one of all his evil\ncompanions who most incited him to do wrong.\n\n\"Sire,\" said this man, \"if I were in your majesty's place, I would never\nvex myself about a poor silly girl. Feed her on bread and water till she\ncomes to her senses, and if she still refuses you, let her die in\ntorment, as a warning to your other subjects should they venture to\ndispute your will. You will be disgraced should you suffer yourself to\nbe conquered by a simple girl.\"\n\n\"But,\" said Prince Cherry, \"shall I not be disgraced if I harm a\ncreature so perfectly innocent?\"\n\n\"No one is innocent who disputes your majesty's authority,\" said the\ncourtier bowing; \"and it is better to commit an injustice than allow it\nto be supposed you can ever be contradicted with impunity.\"\n\nThis touched Cherry on his weak point--his good impulses faded; he\nresolved once more to ask Zelia if she would marry him, and if she again\nrefused, to sell her as a slave. Arrived at the cell in which she was\nconfined, what was his astonishment to find her gone! He knew not whom\nto accuse, for he had kept the key in his pocket the whole time. At last\nthe foster brother suggested that the escape of Zelia might have been\ncontrived by an old man, Suliman by name, the Prince's former tutor, who\nwas the only one who now ventured to blame him for anything that he did.\nCherry sent immediately and ordered his old friend to be brought to him\nloaded heavily with irons. Then, full of fury, he went and shut himself\nup in his own chamber, where he went raging to and fro, till startled by\na noise like a clap of thunder. The Fairy Candide stood before him.\n\n\"Prince,\" said she in a severe voice, \"I promised your father to give\nyou good counsels, and to punish you if you refused to follow them. My\ncounsels were forgotten, my punishments despised. Under the figure of a\nman you have been no better than the beasts you chase. Like a lion in\nfury, a wolf in gluttony, a serpent in revenge, and a bull in brutality.\nTake, therefore, in your new form the likeness of all these animals.\"\n\nScarcely had Prince Cherry heard these words than to his horror he found\nhimself transformed into what the fairy had named. He was a creature\nwith the head of a lion, the horns of a bull, the feet of a wolf, and\nthe tail of a serpent. At the same time he felt himself transported to a\ndistant forest where, standing on the bank of a stream, he saw reflected\nin the water his own frightful shape, and heard a voice saying:\n\n\"Look at thyself, and know that thy soul has become a thousand times\nuglier even than thy body.\"\n\nCherry recognized the voice of Candide, and in his rage would have\nsprung upon her and devoured her; but he saw nothing, and the same voice\nsaid behind him:\n\n\"Cease thy feeble fury, and learn to conquer thy pride by being in\nsubmission to thine own subjects.\"\n\nHearing no more, he soon quitted the stream, hoping at least to get rid\nof the sight of himself; but he had scarcely gone twenty paces when he\ntumbled into a pitfall that was laid to catch bears; the bear hunters,\ndescending from some trees hard by, caught him, chained him, and, only\ntoo delighted to get hold of such a curious-looking animal, led him\nalong with them to the capital of his own kingdom.\n\nThere great rejoicings were taking place, and the bear hunters, asking\nwhat it was all about, were told that it was because Prince Cherry, the\ntorment of his subjects, had just been struck dead by a\nthunderbolt--just punishment of all his crimes. Four courtiers, his\nwicked companions, had wished to divide his throne between them, but the\npeople had risen up against them and offered the crown to Suliman, the\nold tutor whom Cherry had ordered to be arrested.\n\nAll this the poor monster heard. He even saw Suliman sitting upon his\nown throne, and trying to calm the populace by representing to them that\nit was not certain Prince Cherry was dead; that he might return one day\nto reassume with honor the crown which Suliman only consented to wear as\na sort of viceroy.\n\n\"I know his heart,\" said the honest and faithful old man; \"it is\ntainted, but not corrupt. If alive, he may yet reform, and be all his\nfather over again to you, his people, whom he has caused to suffer so\nmuch.\"\n\nThese words touched the poor beast so deeply that he ceased to beat\nhimself against the iron bars of the cage in which the hunters carried\nhim about, became gentle as a lamb, and suffered himself to be taken\nquietly to a menagerie, where were kept all sorts of strange and\nferocious animals--a place which he had often visited as a boy, but in\nwhich he never thought he should be shut up himself.\n\nHowever, he owned he had deserved it all, and began to make amends by\nshowing himself very obedient to his keeper. This man was almost as\ngreat a brute as the animals he had charge of, and when he was in ill\nhumor he used to beat them without rhyme or reason. One day, while he\nwas sleeping, a tiger broke loose and leaped upon him, eager to devour\nhim. Cherry at first felt a thrill of pleasure at the thought of being\nrevenged; then, seeing how helpless the man was, he wished himself free,\nthat he might defend him. Immediately the doors of his cage opened. The\nkeeper, waking up, saw the strange beast leap out, and imagined, of\ncourse, that he was going to be slain at once. Instead, he saw the tiger\nlying dead, and the strange beast creeping up and laying itself at his\nfeet to be caressed. But as he lifted up his hand to stroke it, a voice\nwas heard saying, \"Good actions never go unrewarded\"; and, instead of\nthe frightful monster, there crouched on the ground nothing but a pretty\nlittle dog.\n\nCherry, delighted to find himself thus metamorphosed, caressed the\nkeeper in every possible way, till at last the man took him up in his\narms and carried him to the King, to whom he related this wonderful\nstory from beginning to end. The Queen wished to have the charming\nlittle dog, and Cherry would have been exceedingly happy could he have\nforgotten that he was originally a man and a King. He was lodged most\nelegantly, had the richest of collars to adorn his neck, and heard\nhimself praised continually. But his beauty rather brought him into\ntrouble, for the Queen, afraid lest he might grow too large for a pet,\ntook advice of dog doctors, who ordered that he should be fed entirely\nupon bread, and that very sparingly, so poor Cherry was sometimes nearly\nstarved.\n\nOne day when they gave him his crust for breakfast, a fancy seized him\nto go and eat it in the palace garden; so he took the bread in his mouth\nand trotted away toward a stream which he knew, and where he sometimes\nstopped to drink. But instead of the stream he saw a splendid palace\nglittering with gold and precious stones. Entering the doors was a crowd\nof men and women magnificently dressed, and within there was singing and\ndancing and good cheer of all sorts. Yet, however grandly and gayly the\npeople went in, Cherry noticed that those who came out were pale, thin,\nragged, half-naked, covered with wounds and sores. Some of them dropped\ndead at once; others dragged themselves on a little way and then lay\ndown, dying of hunger, and vainly begged a morsel of bread from others\nwho were entering in--who never took the least notice of them.\n\nCherry perceived one woman who was trying feebly to gather and eat some\ngreen herbs. \"Poor thing!\" said he to himself; \"I know what it is to be\nhungry, and I want my breakfast badly enough; but still it will not kill\nme to wait till dinner time, and my crust may save the life of this poor\nwoman.\"\n\nSo the little dog ran up to her and dropped his bread at her feet; she\npicked it up and ate it with avidity. Soon she looked quite recovered,\nand Cherry, delighted, was trotting back again to his kennel when he\nheard loud cries, and saw a young girl dragged by four men to the door\nof the palace, which they were trying to compel her to enter. Oh, how he\nwished himself a monster again, as when he slew the tiger!--for the\nyoung girl was no other than his beloved Zelia. Alas! what could a poor\nlittle dog do to defend her? But he ran forward and barked at the men,\nand bit their heels, until at last they chased him away with heavy\nblows. And then he lay down outside the palace door, determined to watch\nand see what had become of Zelia.\n\nConscience pricked him now. \"What!\" thought he, \"I am furious against\nthese wicked men, who are carrying her away, and did I not do the same\nmyself? Did I not cast her into prison and intend to sell her as a\nslave? Who knows how much more wickedness I might not have done to her\nand others if Heaven's justice had not stopped me in time?\"\n\nWhile he lay thinking and repenting, he heard a window open, and saw\nZelia throw out of it a bit of dainty meat. Cherry, who felt hungry\nenough by this time, was just about to eat it when the woman to whom he\nhad given his crust snatched him up in her arms.\n\n\"Poor little beast!\" cried she, patting him, \"every bit of food in that\npalace is poisoned. You shall not touch a morsel.\"\n\nAt the same time the voice in the air repeated again, \"Good actions\nnever go unrewarded\"; and Cherry found himself changed into a beautiful\nlittle white pigeon. He remembered with joy that white was the color of\nthe Fairy Candide, and began to hope that she was taking him into favor\nagain.\n\nSo he stretched his wings, delighted that he might now have a chance of\napproaching his fair Zelia. He flew up to the palace windows, and,\nfinding one of them open, entered and sought everywhere, but he could\nnot find Zelia. Then, in despair, he flew out again, resolved to go over\nthe world until he beheld her once more.\n\nHe took flight at once, and traversed many countries, swiftly as a bird\ncan, but found no trace of his beloved. At length in a desert, sitting\nbeside an old hermit in his cave and partaking with him his frugal\nrepast, Cherry saw a poor peasant girl, and recognized Zelia.\nTransported with joy he flew in, perched on her shoulder, and expressed\nhis delight and affection by a thousand caresses.\n\nShe, charmed with the pretty little pigeon, caressed it in her turn, and\npromised it that, if it would stay with her, she would love it always.\n\n\"What have you done, Zelia?\" said the hermit, smiling; and while he\nspoke the white pigeon vanished, and there stood Prince Cherry in his\nown natural form. \"Your enchantment ended, Prince, when Zelia promised\nto love you. Indeed, she has loved you always, but your many faults\nconstrained her to hide her love. These are now amended, and you may\nboth live happy if you will, because your union is founded upon mutual\nesteem.\"\n\nCherry and Zelia threw themselves at the feet of the hermit, whose form\nalso began to change. His soiled garments became of dazzling whiteness,\nand his long beard and withered face grew into the flowing hair and\nlovely countenance of the Fairy Candide.\n\n\"Rise up, my children,\" said she; \"I must now transport you to your\npalace, and restore to Prince Cherry his father's crown, of which he is\nnow worthy.\"\n\nShe had scarcely ceased speaking when they found themselves in the\nchamber of Suliman, who, delighted to find again his beloved pupil and\nmaster, willingly resigned the throne, and became the most faithful of\nhis subjects.\n\nKing Cherry and Queen Zelia reigned together for many years, and it is\nsaid that the former was so blameless and strict in all his duties that\nthough he constantly wore the ring which Candide had restored him, it\nnever once pricked his finger enough to make it bleed.\n\n\n\n\n_The Wild Swans_\n\n\nFAR away in the land to which the swallows fly when it is winter, dwelt\na king who had eleven sons, and one daughter named Eliza. The eleven\nbrothers were princes, and each went to school with a star on his breast\nand a sword by his side. They wrote with diamond pencils on gold slates,\nand learned their lessons so quickly and read so easily that everyone\nmight know they were princes. Their sister Eliza sat on a little stool\nof plate glass, and had a book full of pictures which had cost as much\nas half a kingdom. Oh, these children were indeed happy, but they were\nnot to remain so always. Their father, who was King of the country,\nmarried a very wicked Queen who did not love the poor children at all.\nThey knew this from the very first day after the wedding. In the palace\nthere were great festivities, and the children played at receiving\ncompany; but instead of having, as usual, all the cakes and apples that\nwere left, she gave them some sand in a teacup and told them to pretend\nit was cake. The week after she sent little Eliza into the country to a\npeasant and his wife, and then she told the King so many untrue things\nabout the young princes that he gave himself no more trouble respecting\nthem.\n\n\"Go out into the world and get your own living,\" said the Queen. \"Fly\nlike great birds who have no voice.\" But she could not make them ugly as\nshe wished, for they were turned into eleven beautiful wild swans. Then,\nwith a strange cry, they flew through the windows of the palace, over\nthe park, to the forest beyond. It was yet early morning when they\npassed the peasant's cottage, where their sister Eliza lay asleep in her\nroom. They hovered over the roof, twisted their long necks, and flapped\ntheir wings; but no one heard them or saw them, so they were at last\nobliged to fly away, high up in the clouds; and over the wide world they\nflew till they came to a thick, dark wood, which stretched far away to\nthe seashore. Poor little Eliza was alone in her room playing with a\ngreen leaf, for she had no other playthings, and she pierced a hole\nthrough the leaf and looked through it at the sun, and it was as if she\nsaw her brothers' clear eyes, and when the warm sun shone on her cheeks\nshe thought of all the kisses they had given her. One day passed just\nlike another; sometimes the winds rustled through the leaves of the\nrosebush, and would whisper to the roses, \"Who can be more beautiful\nthan you?\" But the roses would shake their heads and say, \"Eliza is.\"\nAnd when the old woman sat at the cottage door on Sunday and read her\nhymn book, the wind would flutter the leaves and say to the book, \"Who\ncan be more pious than you?\" and then the hymn book would answer,\n\"Eliza.\" And the roses and the hymn book told the real truth. At fifteen\nshe returned home, but when the Queen saw how beautiful she was, she\nbecame full of spite and hatred toward her. Willingly would she have\nturned her into a swan, like her brothers, but she did not dare to do so\nyet, because the King wished to see his daughter. Early one morning the\nQueen went into the bathroom; it was built of marble, and had soft\ncushions trimmed with the most beautiful tapestry. She took three toads\nwith her and kissed them, and said to one: \"When Eliza comes to the\nbath, seat yourself upon her head, that she may become as stupid as you\nare.\" Then she said to another: \"Place yourself on her forehead, that\nshe may become as ugly as you are, and that her father may not know\nher.\" \"Rest on her heart,\" she whispered to the third, \"then she will\nhave evil inclinations, and suffer in consequence.\" So she put the toads\ninto clear water, and they turned green immediately. She next called\nEliza and helped her to undress and get into the bath. As Eliza dipped\nher head under the water one of the toads sat on her hair, a second on\nher forehead, and a third on her breast, but she did not seem to notice\nthem, and when she rose out of the water there were three red poppies\nfloating upon it. Had not the creatures been venomous or been kissed by\nthe witch they would have been changed into red roses. At all events\nthey became flowers, because they had rested on Eliza's head, and on her\nheart. She was too good and too innocent for witchcraft to have any\npower over her. When the wicked Queen saw this, she rubbed her face with\nwalnut juice, so that she was quite brown; then she tangled her\nbeautiful hair and smeared it with disgusting ointment, till it was\nquite impossible to recognize the beautiful Eliza.\n\nWhen her father saw her, he was much shocked and declared she was not\nhis daughter. No one but the watchdog and the swallows knew her, and\nthey were only dumb animals and could say nothing. Then poor Eliza wept,\nand thought of her eleven brothers who were all away. Sorrowfully she\nstole away from the palace, and walked the whole day over fields and\nmoors till she came to the great forest. She knew not in what direction\nto go; but she was so unhappy and longed so for her brothers who had\nbeen, like herself, driven out into the world, that she was determined\nto seek them. She had been but a short time in the wood when night came\non, and she quite lost the path; so she laid herself down on the soft\nmoss, offered up her evening prayer, and leaned her head against the\nstump of a tree. All nature was still, and the soft, mild air fanned her\nforehead. The light of hundreds of glowworms shone amidst the grass and\nthe moss, like green fire; and if she touched a twig with her hand ever\nso lightly, the brilliant fireflies fell down around her like shooting\nstars.\n\nAll night long she dreamed of her brothers. She and they were children\nagain playing together. She saw them writing with their diamond pencils\non golden slates, while she looked at the beautiful picture book which\nhad cost half a kingdom. They were not writing lines and letters, as\nthey used to do, but descriptions of the noble deeds they had performed,\nand of all they had discovered and seen. In the picture book, too,\neverything was living. The birds sang, and the people came out of the\nbook and spoke to Eliza and her brothers; but, as the leaves turned over\nthey darted back again to their places, that all might be in order.\n\nWhen she awoke the sun was high in the heavens, yet she could scarcely\nsee him, for the lofty trees spread their branches thickly over her\nhead, and his beams were glancing through the leaves here and there like\na golden mist. There was a sweet fragrance from the fresh verdure, and\nthe birds almost perched upon her shoulders. She heard water rippling\nfrom a number of springs, all flowing into a lake with golden sands.\nBushes grew thickly around the lake, and at one spot an opening had been\nmade by a deer, through which Eliza went down to the water. The lake was\nso clear that, had not the wind rustled the branches of the trees and\nthe bushes so that they moved, they would have appeared as if painted in\nthe depths of the lake, for every leaf was reflected in the water,\nwhether it stood in the shade or the sunshine. As soon as Eliza saw her\nown face, she was quite terrified at finding it so brown and ugly; but\nwhen she wetted her little hand and rubbed her eyes and forehead the\nwhite skin gleamed forth once more; and, after she had undressed and\ndipped herself in the fresh water, a more beautiful king's daughter\ncould not be found in the wide world. As soon as she had dressed herself\nagain, and braided her long hair, she went to the bubbling spring and\ndrank some water out of the hollow of her hand. Then she wandered far\ninto the forest, not knowing whither she went. She thought of her\nbrothers, and felt sure that God would not forsake her. It is God who\nmakes the wild apples grow in the wood to satisfy the hungry, and He now\nled her to one of these trees, which was so loaded with fruit that the\nboughs bent beneath its weight. Here she held her noonday repast,\nplaced props under the boughs, and then went into the gloomiest depths\nof the forest. It was so still that she could hear the sound of her own\nfootsteps, as well as the rustling of every withered leaf which she\ncrushed under her feet. Not a bird was to be seen, not a sunbeam could\npenetrate through the large dark boughs of the trees. The lofty trunks\nstood so close together that when she looked before her it seemed as if\nshe were inclosed within trelliswork. Such solitude she had never known\nbefore. The night was very dark. Not a single glowworm glittered in the\nmoss.\n\nSorrowfully she laid herself down to sleep, and after a while it seemed\nto her as if the branches of the trees parted over her head, and that\nthe mild eyes of angels looked down upon her from heaven. When she awoke\nin the morning, she knew not whether she had dreamed this or if it had\nreally been so. Then she continued her wandering, but she had not gone\nmany steps forward when she met an old woman with berries in her basket,\nand begged a few to eat. Then Eliza asked her if she had seen eleven\nprinces riding through the forest.\n\n\"No,\" replied the old woman, \"but I saw yesterday eleven swans, with\ngold crowns on their heads, swimming on the river close by.\" Then she\nled Eliza a little distance farther to a sloping bank, at the foot of\nwhich wound a little stream. The trees on its banks stretched their long\nleafy branches across the water toward each other, and where the growth\nprevented them from meeting naturally, the roots had torn themselves\naway from the ground, so that the branches might mingle their foliage as\nthey hung over the stream. Eliza bade the old woman farewell and walked\nby the flowing river till she reached the shore of the open sea. And\nthere before the young maiden's eyes lay the glorious ocean, but not a\nsail appeared on its surface; not even a boat could be seen. How was she\nto go farther? She noticed how the countless pebbles on the seashore had\nbeen smoothed and rounded by the action of the water. Glass, iron,\nstones, everything that lay there mingled together, had taken its shape\nfrom the same power, and felt as smooth, or even smoother, than her own\ndelicate hand. \"The water rolls on without weariness,\" she said, \"till\nall that is hard becomes smooth; so will I be unwearied in my task.\nThanks for your lessons, bright rolling waves; my heart tells me you\nwill lead me to my dear brothers.\" On the foam-covered seaweeds lay\neleven white swan feathers, which she gathered up and placed together.\nDrops of water lay upon them; whether they were dewdrops or tears no one\ncould say. Lonely as it was on the seashore she did not observe it, for\nthe ever-moving sea showed more changes in a few hours than the most\nvarying lake could produce during a whole year. If a black heavy cloud\narose, it was as if the sea said, \"I can look dark and angry too\"; and\nthen the wind blew, and the waves turned to white foam as they rolled.\nWhen the wind slept and the clouds glowed with the red sunlight, then\nthe sea looked like a rose leaf. But however quietly its white glassy\nsurface rested, there was still a motion on the shore, as its waves rose\nand fell like the breast of a sleeping child. When the sun was about to\nset, Eliza saw eleven white swans with golden crowns on their heads\nflying toward the land, one behind the other, like a long white ribbon.\nThen Eliza went down the slope from the shore and hid herself behind the\nbushes. The swans alighted quite close to her, and flapped their great\nwhite wings. As soon as the sun had disappeared under the water, the\nfeathers of the swans fell off, and eleven beautiful princes, Eliza's\nbrothers, stood near her. She uttered a loud cry, for, although they\nwere very much changed, she knew them immediately. She sprang into their\narms and called them each by name. Then, how happy the princes were at\nmeeting their little sister again! for they recognized her, although she\nhad grown so tall and beautiful. They laughed and they wept, and very\nsoon understood how wickedly their mother had acted to them all. \"We\nbrothers,\" said the eldest, \"fly about as wild swans so long as the sun\nis in the sky, but as soon as it sinks behind the hills, we recover our\nhuman shape. Therefore must we always be near a resting place for our\nfeet before sunset; for if we should be flying toward the clouds at the\ntime we recovered our natural form as men, we should fall deep into the\nsea. We do not dwell here, but in a land just as fair, that lies beyond\nthe ocean, which we have to cross for a long distance; there is no\nisland in our passage upon which we could pass the night; nothing but a\nlittle rock rising out of the sea, upon which we can scarcely stand with\nsafety, even closely crowded together. If the sea is rough, the foam\ndashes over us, yet we thank God even for this rock; we have passed\nwhole nights upon it, or we should never have reached our beloved\nfatherland, for our flight across the sea occupies two of the longest\ndays in the year. We have permission to visit our home once in every\nyear and to remain eleven days, during which we fly across the forest to\nlook once more at the palace where our father dwells and where we were\nborn, and at the church where our mother lies buried. Here it seems as\nif the very trees and bushes were related to us. The wild horses leap\nover the plains as we have seen them in our childhood. The charcoal\nburners sing the old songs to which we have danced as children. This is\nour fatherland to which we are drawn by loving ties; and here we have\nfound you, our dear little sister. Two days longer we can remain here,\nand then must we fly away to a beautiful land which is not our home; and\nhow can we take you with us? We have neither ship nor boat.\"\n\n\"How can I break this spell?\" said their sister. And then she talked\nabout it nearly the whole night, only slumbering for a few hours. Eliza\nwas awakened by the rustling of the swans' wings as they soared above.\nHer brothers were again changed to swans, and they flew in circles wider\nand wider till they were far away; but one of them, the youngest swan,\nremained behind and laid his head in his sister's lap, while she stroked\nhis wings, and they remained together the whole day. Toward evening the\nrest came back, and as the sun went down they resumed their natural\nforms. \"To-morrow,\" said one, \"we shall fly away, not to return again\ntill a whole year has passed. But we cannot leave you here. Have you\ncourage to go with us? My arm is strong enough to carry you through the\nwood; and will not all our wings be strong enough to fly with you over\nthe sea?\"\n\n\"Yes, take me with you,\" said Eliza. Then they spent the whole night in\nweaving a net with the pliant willow and rushes. It was very large and\nstrong. Eliza laid herself down on the net, and when the sun rose and\nher brothers again became wild swans, they took up the net with their\nbeaks and flew up to the clouds with their dear sister, who still slept.\nThe sunbeams fell on her face, therefore one of the swans soared over\nher head, so that his broad wing might shade her. They were far from the\nland when Eliza woke. She thought she must still be dreaming, it seemed\nso strange to her to feel herself being carried so high in the air over\nthe sea. By her side lay a branch full of beautiful ripe berries and a\nbundle of sweet roots; the youngest of her brothers had gathered them\nfor her, and placed them by her side. She smiled her thanks to him; she\nknew it was the same who had hovered over her to shade her with his\nwings. They were now so high that a large ship beneath them looked like\na white sea gull skimming the waves. A great cloud floating behind them\nappeared like a vast mountain, and upon it Eliza saw her own shadow and\nthose of the eleven swans, looking gigantic in size. Altogether it\nformed a more beautiful picture than she had ever seen; but as the sun\nrose higher, and the clouds were left behind, the shadowy picture\nvanished away. Onward the whole day they flew through the air like a\nwinged arrow, yet more slowly than usual, for they had their sister to\ncarry. The weather seemed inclined to be stormy, and Eliza watched the\nsinking sun with great anxiety, for the little rock in the ocean was not\nyet in sight. It appeared to her as if the swans were making great\nefforts with their wings. Alas! she was the cause of their not advancing\nmore quickly. When the sun set they would change to men, fall into the\nsea, and be drowned. Then she offered a prayer from her inmost heart,\nbut still no appearance of the rock. Dark clouds came nearer, the gusts\nof wind told of a coming storm, while from a thick, heavy mass of clouds\nthe lightning burst forth flash after flash. The sun had reached the\nedge of the sea, when the swans darted down so swiftly that Eliza's\nhead trembled; she believed they were falling, but they again soared\nonward. Presently she caught sight of the rock just below them, and by\nthis time the sun was half hidden by the waves. The rock did not appear\nlarger than a seal's head thrust out of the water. They sank so rapidly\nthat at the moment their feet touched the rock the sun shone only like a\nstar, and at last disappeared like the last spark in a piece of burned\npaper. Then she saw her brothers standing closely around her with their\narms linked together. There was but just room enough for them, and not\nthe smallest space to spare. The sea dashed against the rock and covered\nthem with spray. The heavens were lighted up with continual flashes, and\npeal after peal of thunder rolled. But the sister and brothers sat\nholding each other's hands and singing hymns, from which they gained\nhope and courage. In the early dawn the air became calm and still, and\nat sunrise the swans flew away from the rock with Eliza. The sea was\nstill rough, and from their high position in the air the white foam on\nthe dark green waves looked like millions of swans swimming on the\nwater. As the sun rose higher Eliza saw before her, floating in the air,\na range of mountains with shining masses of ice on their summits. In the\ncenter rose a castle apparently a mile long, with rows of columns rising\none above another, while around it palm trees waved and flowers bloomed\nas large as mill wheels. She asked if this was the land to which they\nwere hastening. The swans shook their heads, for what she beheld were\nthe beautiful ever-changing cloud palaces of the \"Fata Morgana,\" into\nwhich no mortal can enter. Eliza was still gazing at the scene when\nmountains, forests, and castles melted away, and twenty stately churches\nrose in their stead, with high towers and pointed Gothic windows. Eliza\neven fancied she could hear the tones of the organ, but it was the music\nof the murmuring sea which she heard. As they drew nearer to the\nchurches, these also changed into a fleet of ships, which seemed to be\nsailing beneath her; but as she looked again, she found it was only a\nsea mist gliding over the ocean. So there continued to pass before her\neyes a constant change of scene, till at last she saw the real land to\nwhich they were bound, with its blue mountains, its cedar forests, and\nits cities and palaces. Long before the sun went down she sat on a rock\nin front of a large cave, on the floor of which the overgrown yet\ndelicate green creeping plants looked like an embroidered carpet. \"Now\nwe shall expect to hear what you dream of to-night,\" said the youngest\nbrother, as he showed his sister her bedroom.\n\n\"Heaven grant that I may dream how to save you!\" she replied. And this\nthought took such hold upon her mind that she prayed earnestly to God\nfor help, and even in her sleep she continued to pray. Then it appeared\nto her as if she were flying high in the air, toward the cloudy palace\nof the \"Fata Morgana,\" and a fairy came out to meet her, radiant and\nbeautiful in appearance, and yet very much like the old woman who had\ngiven her berries in the wood, and who had told her of the swans with\ngolden crowns on their heads. \"Your brothers can be released,\" said she,\n\"if you have only courage and perseverance. True, water is softer than\nyour own delicate hands, and yet it polishes stones into shapes; it\nfeels no pain as your fingers would feel, it has no soul, and cannot\nsuffer such agony and torment as you will have to endure. Do you see the\nstinging nettle which I hold in my hand? Quantities of the same sort\ngrow around the cave in which you sleep, but none will be of any use to\nyou unless they grow upon the graves in a churchyard. These you must\ngather even while they burn blisters on your hands. Break them to pieces\nwith your hands and feet, and they will become flax, from which you must\nspin and weave eleven coats with long sleeves; if these are then thrown\nover the eleven swans the spell will be broken. But remember, that from\nthe moment you commence your task until it is finished, even should it\noccupy years of your life, you must not speak. The first word you utter\nwill pierce through the hearts of your brothers like a deadly dagger.\nTheir lives hang upon your tongue. Remember all I have told you.\" And as\nshe finished speaking, she touched her hand lightly with the nettle,\nand a pain as of burning fire awoke Eliza.\n\nIt was broad daylight, and close by where she had been sleeping lay a\nnettle like the one she had seen in her dream. She fell on her knees and\noffered her thanks to God. Then she went forth from the cave to begin\nher work with her delicate hands. She groped in among the ugly nettles,\nwhich burned great blisters on her hands and arms, but she determined to\nbear it gladly if she could only release her dear brothers. So she\nbruised the nettles with her bare feet and spun the flax. At sunset her\nbrothers returned and were very much frightened when they found her\ndumb. They believed it to be some new sorcery of their wicked\nstepmother. But when they saw her hands they understood what she was\ndoing on their behalf, and the youngest brother wept, and where his\ntears fell the pain ceased and the burning blisters vanished. She kept\nat her work all night, for she could not rest till she had released her\ndear brothers. During the whole of the following day, while her brothers\nwere absent, she sat in solitude, but never before had the time flown so\nquickly. One coat was already finished and she had begun the second when\nshe heard a huntsman's horn and was struck with fear. The sound came\nnearer and nearer; she heard the dogs barking, and fled with terror into\nthe cave. She hastily bound together the nettles she had gathered into a\nbundle and sat upon them. Immediately a great dog came bounding toward\nher out of the ravine, and then another and another; they barked loudly,\nran back, and then came again. In a very few minutes all the huntsmen\nstood before the cave, and the handsomest of them was the King of the\ncountry. He advanced toward her, for he had never seen a more beautiful\nmaiden.\n\n\"How did you come here, my sweet child?\" he asked. But Eliza shook her\nhead. She dared not speak, at the cost of her brothers' lives. And she\nhid her hands under her apron, so that the King might not see how she\nmust be suffering.\n\n\"Come with me,\" he said; \"here you cannot remain. If you are as good as\nyou are beautiful, I will dress you in silk and velvet, I will place a\ngolden crown on your head, and you shall dwell and rule and make your\nhome in my richest castle.\" And then he lifted her on his horse. She\nwept and wrung her hands, but the King said: \"I wish only your\nhappiness. A time will come when you will thank me for this.\" And then\nhe galloped away over the mountains, holding her before him on his\nhorse, and the hunters followed behind them. As the sun went down they\napproached a fair, royal city, with churches and cupolas. On arriving at\nthe castle the King led her into marble halls where large fountains\nplayed, and where the walls and the ceilings were covered with rich\npaintings. But she had no eyes for all these glorious sights; she could\nonly mourn and weep. Patiently she allowed the women to array her in\nroyal robes, to weave pearls in her hair, and draw soft gloves over her\nblistered fingers. As she stood before them in all her rich dress, she\nlooked so dazzlingly beautiful that the court bowed low in her presence.\nThen the King declared his intention of making her his bride, but the\narchbishop shook his head, and whispered that the fair young maiden was\nonly a witch who had blinded the King's eyes and enchanted his heart.\nBut the King would not listen to this; he ordered the music to sound,\nthe daintiest dishes to be served, and the loveliest maidens to dance.\nAfterwards he led her through fragrant gardens and lofty halls, but not\na smile appeared on her lips or sparkled in her eyes. She looked the\nvery picture of grief. Then the King opened the door of a little chamber\nin which she was to sleep; it was adorned with rich green tapestry, and\nresembled the cave in which he had found her. On the floor lay the\nbundle of flax which she had spun from the nettles, and under the\nceiling hung the coat she had made. These things had been brought away\nfrom the cave as curiosities by one of the huntsmen.\n\n\"Here you can dream yourself back again in the old home in the cave,\"\nsaid the King; \"here is the work with which you employed yourself. It\nwill amuse you now in the midst of all this splendor to think of that\ntime.\"\n\nWhen Eliza saw all these things which lay so near her heart, a smile\nplayed around her mouth and the crimson blood rushed to her cheeks. She\nthought of her brothers, and their release made her so joyful that she\nkissed the King's hand. Then he pressed her to his heart. Very soon the\njoyous church bells announced the marriage feast, and that the beautiful\ndumb girl out of the wood was to be made Queen of the country. Then the\narchbishop whispered wicked words in the King's ear, but they did not\nsink into his heart. The marriage was still to take place, and the\narchbishop himself had to place the crown on the bride's head; in his\nwicked spite he pressed the narrow circlet so tightly on her forehead\nthat it caused her pain. But a heavier weight encircled her\nheart--sorrow for her brothers. She felt not bodily pain. Her mouth was\nclosed; a single word would cost her brothers their lives. But she loved\nthe kind, handsome King, who did everything to make her happy, more and\nmore each day; she loved him with her whole heart, and her eyes beamed\nwith the love she dared not speak. Oh, if she had only been able to\nconfide in him and tell him of her grief! But dumb she must remain till\nher task was finished. Therefore at night she crept away into her little\nchamber, which had been decked out to look like the cave, and quickly\nwove one coat after another. But when she began the seventh she found\nshe had no more flax. She knew that the nettles she wanted to use grew\nin the churchyard, and that she must pluck them herself. How should she\nget out there? \"Oh, what is the pain in my fingers to the torment which\nmy heart endures?\" said she. \"I must venture; I shall not be denied help\nfrom heaven.\" Then with a trembling heart, as if she were about to\nperform a wicked deed, she crept into the garden in the broad moonlight,\nand passed through the narrow walks and the deserted streets till she\nreached the churchyard. Then she saw on one of the broad tombstones a\ngroup of ghouls. These hideous creatures took off their rags, as if they\nintended to bathe, and then, clawing open the grassy graves with their\nlong skinny fingers, pulled out the bones and threw them about! Eliza\nhad to pass close by them, and they fixed their wicked glances upon her,\nbut she prayed silently, gathered the burning nettles, and carried them\nhome with her to the castle. One person only had seen her, and that was\nthe archbishop--he was awake while everybody was asleep. Now he thought\nhis opinion was evidently correct. All was not right with the Queen. She\nwas a witch, and had enchanted the King and all the people. Secretly he\ntold the King what he had seen and what he feared, and as the hard words\ncame from his tongue, the carved images of the saints shook their heads\nas if they would say, \"It is not so. Eliza is innocent.\"\n\nBut the archbishop interpreted it in another way; he believed that they\nwitnessed against her, and were shaking their heads at her wickedness.\nTwo large tears rolled down the King's cheeks, and he went home with\ndoubt in his heart, and at night pretended to sleep, but there came no\nreal sleep to his eyes, for he saw Eliza get up every night and\ndisappear in her own chamber. From day to day his brow became darker,\nand Eliza saw it and did not understand the reason, but it alarmed her\nand made her heart tremble for her brothers. Her hot tears glittered\nlike pearls on the regal velvet and diamonds, while all who saw her were\nwishing they could be queens. In the meantime she had almost finished\nher task; only one coat of mail was wanting, but she had no flax left,\nand not a single nettle. Once more only, and for the last time, must she\nventure to the churchyard and pluck a few handfuls. She thought with\nterror of the solitary walk, and of the horrible ghouls, but her will\nwas firm, as well as her trust in Providence. Eliza went, and the King\nand the archbishop followed her. They saw her vanish through the wicket\ngate into the churchyard, and when they came nearer they saw the ghouls\nsitting on the tombstone as Eliza had seen them, and the King turned\naway his head, for he thought she was with them--she whose head had\nrested on his breast that very evening. \"The people must condemn her,\"\nsaid he, and she was very quickly condemned by everyone to suffer death\nby fire. Away from the gorgeous regal halls was she led to a dark,\ndreary cell, where the wind whistled through the iron bars. Instead of\nthe velvet and silk dresses, they gave her the coats of mail which she\nhad woven to cover her, and the bundle of nettles for a pillow; but\nnothing they could give her would have pleased her more. She continued\nher task with joy, and prayed for help, while the street boys sang\njeering songs about her, and not a soul comforted her with a kind word.\nToward evening she heard at the grating the flutter of a swan's wing; it\nwas her youngest brother--he had found his sister, and she sobbed for\njoy, although she knew that very likely this would be the last night she\nwould have to live. But still she could hope, for her task was almost\nfinished and her brothers were come. Then the archbishop arrived, to be\nwith her during her last hours, as he had promised the King. But she\nshook her head, and begged him, by looks and gestures, not to stay, for\nin this night she knew she must finish her task, otherwise all her pain\nand tears and sleepless nights would have been suffered in vain. The\narchbishop withdrew, uttering bitter words against her; but poor Eliza\nknew that she was innocent, and diligently continued her work.\n\n[Illustration: \"ELIZA WENT, AND THE KING AND THE ARCHBISHOP FOLLOWED\nHER\"]\n\nThe little mice ran about the floor; they dragged the nettles to her\nfeet, to help as well as they could, and the thrush sat outside the\ngrating of the window and sang to her the whole night long, as sweetly\nas possible, to keep up her spirits.\n\nIt was still twilight and at least an hour before sunrise when the\neleven brothers stood at the castle gate and demanded to be brought\nbefore the King. They were told it could not be, it was yet almost\nnight, and as the King slept they dared not disturb him. They\nthreatened, they entreated. Then the guard appeared, and even the King\nhimself, inquiring what all the noise meant. At this moment the sun\nrose. The eleven brothers were seen no more, but eleven wild swans flew\naway over the castle.\n\nAnd now all the people came streaming forth from the gates of the city\nto see the witch burned. An old horse drew the cart on which she sat.\nThey had dressed her in a garment of coarse sackcloth. Her lovely hair\nhung loose on her shoulders, her cheeks were deadly pale, her lips moved\nsilently, while her fingers still worked at the green flax. Even on the\nway to death she would not give up her task. The ten coats of mail\nlay at her feet, she was working hard at the eleventh, while the mob\njeered her and said, \"See the witch, how she mutters! She has no hymn\nbook in her hand. She sits there with her ugly sorcery. Let us tear it\nin a thousand pieces.\"\n\nAnd then they pressed toward her, and would have destroyed the coats of\nmail, but at the same moment eleven wild swans flew over her and\nalighted on the cart. Then they flapped their large wings and the crowd\ndrew on one side in alarm.\n\n\"It is a sign from heaven that she is innocent,\" whispered many of them,\nbut they ventured not to say it aloud.\n\nAs the executioner seized her by the hand to lift her out of the cart,\nshe hastily threw the eleven coats of mail over the swans, and they\nimmediately became eleven handsome princes; but the youngest had a\nswan's wing instead of an arm, for she had not been able to finish the\nlast sleeve of the coat.\n\n\"Now I may speak!\" she exclaimed. \"I am innocent.\"\n\nThen the people, who saw what happened, bowed to her as before a saint,\nbut she sank lifeless in her brother's arms, overcome with suspense,\nanguish, and pain.\n\n\"Yes, she is innocent,\" said the eldest brother; and then he related all\nthat had taken place, and while he spoke there rose in the air a\nfragrance as from millions of flowers. Every piece of fagot in the pile\nhad taken root, and thrown out branches, and appeared a thick hedge,\nlarge and high, covered with roses, while above all bloomed a white and\nshining blossom that glittered like a star. This flower the King plucked\nand placed in Eliza's bosom, when she awoke from her swoon with peace\nand happiness in her heart. And all the church bells rang of themselves\nand the birds came in great troops. And a marriage procession returned\nto the castle such as no king had ever before seen.\n\n\n\n\n_The Story of Coquerico_\n\n\nONCE upon a time there was a handsome hen who lived like a great lady in\nthe poultry yard of a rich farmer, surrounded by a numerous family that\nclucked about her, and none of which clamored more loudly or picked up\nthe corn faster with his beak than a poor little deformed and crippled\nchicken. This was precisely the one that the mother loved best. It is\nthe way with all mothers; the weakest and most unsightly are always\ntheir favorites. This misshapen creature had but one eye, one wing, and\none leg in good condition; it might have been thought that Solomon had\nexecuted his memorable sentence on Coquerico, for that was the name of\nthe wretched chicken, and cut him in two with his famous sword. When a\nperson is one-eyed, lame, and one-armed, he may reasonably be expected\nto be modest; but our Castilian ragamuffin was prouder than his father,\nthe best spurred, most elegant, bravest, and most gallant cock to be\nseen from Burgos to Madrid. He thought himself a phoenix of grace and\nbeauty, and passed the best part of the day in admiring himself in the\nbrook. If one of his brothers ran against him by accident, he abused\nhim, called him envious and jealous, and risked his only remaining eye\nin battle; if the hens clucked on seeing him, he said it was to hide\ntheir spite because he did not condescend to look at them.\n\nOne day, when he was more puffed up with vanity than usual, he resolved\nno longer to remain in such a narrow sphere, but to go out into the\nworld, where he would be better appreciated.\n\n\"My lady mother,\" said he, \"I am tired of Spain; I am going to Rome to\nsee the Pope and cardinals.\"\n\n\"What are you thinking of, my poor child!\" cried his mother. \"Who has\nput such a folly into your head? Never has one of our family been known\nto quit his country, and, for this reason, we are the honor of our race,\nand are proud of our genealogy. Where will you find a poultry yard like\nthis--mulberry trees to shade you, a whitewashed hen roost, a\nmagnificent dunghill, worms and corn everywhere, brothers that love you,\nand three great dogs to guard you from the foxes? Do you not think that\nat Rome itself you will regret the ease and plenty of such a life?\"\n\nCoquerico shrugged his crippled wing in token of disdain. \"You are a\nsimple woman, my good mother,\" said he; \"everything is accounted worthy\nof admiration by him who has never quitted his dunghill. But I have wit\nenough to see that my brothers have no ideas, and that my cousins are\nnothing but rustics. My genius is stifling in this hole; I wish to roam\nthe world and seek my fortune.\"\n\n\"But, my son, have you never looked in the brook?\" resumed the poor hen.\n\"Don't you know that you lack an eye, a leg, and a wing? To make your\nfortune, you need the eyes of a fox, the legs of a spider, and the wings\nof a vulture. Once outside of these walls, you are lost.\"\n\n\"My good mother,\" replied Coquerico, \"when a hen hatches a duck, she is\nalways frightened on seeing it run to the water. You know me no better.\nIt is my nature to succeed by my wit and talent. I must have a public\ncapable of appreciating the charms of my person; my place is not among\ninferior people.\"\n\n\"My son,\" said the hen, seeing all her counsels useless, \"my son, listen\nat least to your mother's last words. If you go to Rome, take care to\navoid St. Peter's Church; the saint, it is said, dislikes cocks,\nespecially when they crow. Shun, moreover, certain personages called\ncooks and scullions; you will know them by their paper caps, their\ntucked-up sleeves, and the great knives which they wear at their sides.\nThey are licensed assassins, who track our steps without pity, and cut\nour throats without giving us time to cry mercy. And now, my child,\" she\nadded, raising her claw, \"receive my blessing. May St. James, the patron\nsaint of pilgrims, protect thee!\"\n\nCoquerico pretended not to see the tear that trembled in his mother's\neye, nor did he trouble himself any more about his father, who bristled\nhis plumage and seemed about to call him back. Without caring for those\nwhom he left behind, he glided through the half-open door, and, once\noutside, flapped his only wing and crowed three times, to celebrate his\nfreedom--\"Cock-a-doodle-doo!\"\n\nAs he half-flew, half-hopped over the fields, he came to the bed of a\nbrook which had been dried up by the sun. In the middle of the sands,\nhowever, still trickled a tiny thread of water, so small that it was\nchoked by a couple of dead leaves that had fallen into it.\n\n\"My friend,\" exclaimed the Streamlet at the sight of our traveler, \"my\nfriend, you see my weakness; I have not even the strength to carry away\nthese leaves which obstruct my passage, much less to make a circuit, so\ncompletely am I exhausted. With a stroke of your beak you can restore me\nto life. I am not an ingrate; if you oblige me, you may count on my\ngratitude the first rainy day, when the water from heaven shall have\nrestored my strength.\"\n\n\"You are jesting?\" said Coquerico. \"Do I look like one whose business it\nis to sweep the brooks? Apply to those of your own sort.\" And, with his\nsound leg, he leaped across the Streamlet.\n\n\"You will remember me when you least expect it,\" murmured the Brook, but\nwith so feeble a voice that it was lost on the proud cock.\n\nA little farther on, Coquerico saw the Wind lying breathless on the\nground.\n\n\"Dear Coquerico, come to my aid,\" it cried; \"here on earth we should\nhelp each other. You see to what I am reduced by the heat of the day; I,\nwho in former times uprooted the olive trees and lashed the waves to\nfrenzy, lie here well nigh slain by the dog star. I suffered myself to\nbe lulled to sleep by the perfume of the roses with which I was playing;\nand lo! here I am, stretched almost lifeless upon the ground. If you\nwill raise me a couple of inches with your beak and fan me a little with\nyour wing, I shall have the strength to mount to yonder white clouds\nwhich I see in the distance, where I shall receive aid enough from my\nfamily to keep me alive till I gain fresh strength from the next\nwhirlwind.\n\n\"My lord,\" answered the spiteful Coquerico, \"your excellency has more\nthan once amused himself by playing tricks at my expense. It is not a\nweek since your lordship glided like a traitor behind me, and diverted\nhimself by opening my tail like a fan and covering me with confusion in\nthe face of nations. Have patience, therefore, my worthy friend; mockers\nalways have their turn; it does them good to repent, and to learn to\nrespect those whose birth, wit, and beauty should screen them from the\njests of a fool.\" And Coquerico, bristling his plumage, crowed three\ntimes in his shrillest voice and proudly strutted onward.\n\nA little farther on he came to a newly mown field, where the farmers had\npiled up the weeds in order to burn them. Coquerico approached a smoking\nheap, hoping to find some stray kernels of corn, and saw a little flame\nwhich was charring the green stalks without being able to set them on\nfire.\n\n\"My good friend,\" cried the Flame to the newcomer, \"you are just in time\nto save my life; I am dying for want of air. I cannot imagine what has\nbecome of my cousin, the Wind, who cares for nothing but his own\namusement. Bring me a few dry straws to rekindle my strength, and you\nwill not have obliged an ingrate.\"\n\n\"Wait a moment,\" said Coquerico, \"and I will serve you as you deserve,\ninsolent fellow that dares ask my help!\" And behold! he leaped on the\nheap of dried weeds, and trampled it down till he smothered both Flame\nand smoke; after which he exultingly shouted three times\n\"Cock-a-doodle-doo!\" and flapped his wings, as if he had done a great\ndeed.\n\nProudly strutting onward and crowing, Coquerico at last arrived at Rome,\nthe place to which all roads lead. Scarcely had he reached the city when\nhe hastened to the great church of St. Peter. Grand and beautiful as it\nwas, he did not stop to admire it, but, planting himself in front of the\nmain entrance, where he looked like a fly among the great columns, he\nraised himself on tiptoe and began to shout \"Cock-a-doodle-doo!\" only to\nenrage the saint and disobey his mother.\n\nHe had not yet ended his song when one of the Pope's guards, who chanced\nto hear him, laid hands on the insolent wretch who dared thus to insult\nthe saint, and carried him home in order to roast him for supper.\n\n\"Quick!\" said he to his wife on entering the house, \"give me some\nboiling water; here is a sinner to be punished.\"\n\n\"Pardon, pardon, Madam Water!\" cried Coquerico. \"O good and gentle\nWater, the best and purest thing in the world, do not scald me, I pray\nyou!\"\n\n\"Did you have pity on me when I implored your aid, ungrateful wretch?\"\nanswered the Water, boiling with indignation. And with a single gush it\ninundated him from head to foot, and left not a bit of down on his body.\n\nThe unhappy Coquerico stripped of all his feathers, the soldier took him\nand laid him on the gridiron.\n\n\"O Fire, do not burn me!\" cried he, in an agony of terror. \"O beautiful\nand brilliant Fire, the brother of the Sun and the cousin of the\nDiamond, spare an unhappy creature; restrain thy ardor and soften thy\nflame; do not roast me!\"\n\n\"Did you have pity on me when I implored your aid, ungrateful wretch?\"\nanswered the Fire, and, fiercely blazing with anger, in an instant it\nburned Coquerico to a coal.\n\nThe soldier, seeing his roast chicken in this deplorable condition, took\nhim by the leg and threw him out of the window. The Wind bore the\nunhappy fowl to a dunghill, where it left him for a moment.\n\n\"O Wind,\" murmured Coquerico, who still breathed, \"oh, kindly zephyr,\nprotecting breeze, behold me cured of my vain follies; let me rest on\nthe paternal dunghill.\"\n\n\"Let you rest!\" roared the Wind. \"Wait and I will teach you how I treat\ningrates.\" And with one blast it sent him so high in the air that, as he\nfell back, he was transfixed by a steeple.\n\nThere St. Peter was awaiting him. With his own hand he nailed him to the\nhighest steeple in Rome, where he is still shown to travelers. However\nhigh placed he may be, all despise him because he turns with the\nslightest wind; black, dried up, stripped of his feathers, and beaten by\nthe rain, he is no longer called Coquerico, but Weathercock; and thus\nexpiates, and must expiate eternally, his disobedience, vanity, and\nwickedness.\n\n\n\n\n_The Bird-Cage Maker_\n\n\nIN a town of the ancient kingdom of Castile there lived, in former ages,\na youth called Bartolo, who tried to eke out a living by making cages\nfor birds, and taking them round to sell at the neighboring villages.\nBut his trade was a poor one, and he judged himself in luck if he sold\none cage in the day, and as may be supposed, he knew what sorrow and\nprivation were.\n\nOne day as he was proceeding to a village he heard sounds of revelry,\nthe buzz of many people, and the strains of a band of music. This\nmerrymaking was a procession of children dressed in white, carrying in\ntheir midst a beautiful child crowned with roses, in a chariot covered\nwith white satin, and ornamented with acacia and myrtle. This procession\nwas in honor of Maya, the personification of Spring, and took place to\nannounce the entry of Spring. In front of the little chariot some\nchildren danced, and held in their hands tin platters for contributions;\nand, as may be imagined, all, or nearly all, the spectators dropped\ntheir coins into them.\n\nBartolo moved away in a desponding mood, saying to himself as he walked\non: \"Is this the justice of the world? There they are, flinging their\nmoney into these platters just because these children come in\nprocession to announce to them that it is the month of May, as though\nthey could not know it by looking in an almanac. They barter and grind\nme down to the lowest price for my cages, even when I chance to sell\none.\"\n\nFull of these bitter thoughts he walked on sadly, for the voices of two\nimportunate enemies were making themselves heard within him--these were\nhunger and thirst: the one clamored for food and the other for drink.\nBartolo had nothing in his wallet but his clasp knife, and had had\nnought for his breakfast but hopes, and these made him sharp and active.\n\nHe had reached a plantation when he perceived a well-dressed individual\ncoming toward him. Pressed by hunger Bartolo, taking his cap off\nrespectfully, approached and said: \"Excuse me, sir, but could you kindly\ngive me a trifle? I promise I will return it as soon as I earn some\nmoney.\"\n\n\"Don't you think that it is a shameful thing for a man like you, young\nand with a good, healthy appearance, to be demanding charity of people?\nDoes it not strike you that you have a duty to earn your living by\nworking at your trade?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir, certainly, but my trade does not fulfill its own duty. Most\npeople like to see the birds flying about free rather than in cages,\nand, therefore, day by day I find myself poorer than before.\"\n\nAt first the stranger doubted what he heard, but the bird-cage maker\ngave him so detailed an account of his work and the small profits he\nderived, that he became interested and sympathized with his ill fortune.\nBartolo was a man who always knew how to excite great interest in\nhimself.\n\n\"Come, come,\" the stranger said, smiling, \"I will do something for you.\nAs I cannot find customers for your cages, I will afford you a powerful\nmeans by which you shall never more be in want.\"\n\nHe then blew a whistle, and Bartolo saw flying before him a bird blue\nas the sky, which came and perched on one of his cages.\n\n\"See here,\" added the stranger, \"what will compensate for all your past\nmisery. From this day forward you have only to formulate a wish and say\nslowly and distinctly, _'Bluest of blue birds, do your duty!'_ and your\nwish will be granted to you.\"\n\n\"By my faith!\" cried the bird-cage maker, \"but I will try it at once.\nFor the last twenty years I have wished to kill hunger: 'Bluest of blue\nbirds, do your duty!'\"\n\nScarcely were the words out of his mouth than he saw suddenly spread\nbefore him on the grass a breakfast fit for a prince, laid on a service\nof exquisite silver and glass and the whitest of cloths. Bartolo,\nastonished, flung himself on his knees before his benefactor to thank\nhim, but he raised him up saying:\n\n\"I am the good genius of the honest workingmen of Castile. Sit down and\neat without fear. Take advantage of your lucky star,\" and then suddenly\ndisappeared.\n\nBartolo reverently bent down and kissed the spot upon which he had\nstood, unable to find adequate expression of his gratitude. He then sat\ndown and ate his breakfast. After his meal, Bartolo judged that a man\nwho had feasted in such an elegant manner ought to have other, better\nclothing than his well-worn working suit; and, lifting his staff, he\ncried to the bird: \"Bluest of blue birds, do your duty!\" In an instant\nhis old suit became transformed into one of richest velvet, embroidered\nin gold and silver, and his rough staff into a splendid horse fully\ncaparisoned, and having round its neck a collar of silver bells.\n\nMore astonished than ever, Bartolo suspended to the saddle the cage with\nthe blue bird, leaped on the horse, and went his way, as proud of his\ndress as a donkey of its ears.\n\nSetting spurs to his horse, he soon reached the gates of a splendid\ncastle. Some feast was taking place within. The guests were all seated\nunder a shady bower, deploring that they had been disappointed of the\nminstrels who were to have played.\n\nBartolo, on learning this, advanced to the bower, and, after elegantly\nsaluting the lord and lady of the castle, in a most refined voice said:\n\n\"If it be right for a simple knight to offer his services to such a\ndistinguished company of rank and beauty, I think I could promise to\nprovide what you are requiring.\"\n\n\"Oh, do! at once, please!\" cried all the ladies, who were longing to\ndance.\n\n\"Bluest of blue birds, do your duty!\" said Bartolo.\n\nSuddenly, in the distance, was heard the noise of many feet, and a troop\nof musicians with their instruments appeared, to the great delight of\nthe company.\n\nThe lord of the castle thanked the stranger, and desired him to open the\nball with his eldest daughter, a maiden fair and lovely, like a\nsnowbird.\n\nWhen the ball was at its height, the bird-cage maker ordered an elegant\nbanquet to be served, during which the bluest of blue birds was\ncommanded to sing some songs, which were very much admired. Games of\nchance followed, and Bartolo, taking advantage of his good fortune,\ndistributed among the ladies pearls, bracelets, and rings of precious\nstones. All those present were surprised beyond measure, because the\nlord of the castle was known to be extremely niggardly and mean.\n\nThe lord of the castle, who knew how all this had been done through the\nagency of the bird, and being himself of an inordinately avaricious\nnature, thought he might do a fine stroke of business were he to buy the\ncreature. Hence, calling his unknown guest away to his study, he\nproposed to him to purchase the bird for what price he should quote.\n\n\"You would never give me my price,\" replied Bartolo.\n\n\"For it I would give my castle with its nine forests,\" said the lord of\nthe castle.\n\n\"It is not enough!\"\n\n\"Very well, I will add my olive plantations and vineyards.\"\n\n\"That is still insufficient!\" cried Bartolo.\n\n\"I will add the orchards, gardens, and houses.\"\n\n\"I want something else!\"\n\n\"What, still more? Why, man, you must want paradise itself!\"\n\n\"Not so; I want what you can give me this very moment. I want your\ndaughter with whom I danced just now! Let her be my bride.\"\n\n\"What, my daughter!\" cried the old miser, in an ecstasy of joy; \"by my\nfaith, we shall soon conclude the bargain. Why did you not say so\nbefore?\"\n\nHe went to seek the girl, and told her of the engagement he had entered\ninto. But his daughter, in utter amazement, cried out:\n\n\"But what if he be a wicked elf, and all he does be witchcraft?\"\n\n\"You have an amulet of coral hanging from your neck; it is an antidote\nagainst all witchery.\"\n\n\"And what if he be Satan himself?\"\n\n\"I will give you a piece of blessed candle, and he will have no power\nover you,\" replied the unrelenting father.\n\nTaking her hand, he led her to the stranger, who was already on his\nhorse, and assisted her to mount behind her future husband. Taking the\ncage with the bluest of birds, he watched the retreating forms of the\npair as the horse carried them away swifter than the wind, and when out\nof sight, he proceeded to join his guests. The company were all gathered\nin knots discussing the extraordinary powers of the bird and all the\nevents which had taken place.\n\n\"Peace! peace!\" cried the lord of the castle, as he entered; \"I will\nperform more marvelous things than ever he did. I have given him my\ndaughter to wed in exchange for the bird, and this blue bird will render\nme more wealthy than the King of Aragon. Approach, and see the wonders I\nwill work with it.\"\n\nHe took the cage, and lifting it up to look at the bird, was astonished\nto find that it was not blue at all, but a large gray bird, which\nturned to stare at him in an insolent manner, gave a fierce peck at the\ndoor of the cage with its beak, flung it open, and flew out of the\nwindow uttering a terrible screech.\n\nThe lord of the castle stood with open mouth, not knowing what to do or\nsay. His guests broke out in peals of laughter at his discomfiture and\nthe well-deserved punishment for his unseemly avarice in exchanging his\nbeautiful daughter for a worthless bird.\n\nMeanwhile, Bartolo was galloping on with his bride to the nearest town\nto be married, and when he arrived at the first hostelry, he wished to\ndismount and engage the most splendid suite of apartments for his\nintended wife, but he found himself utterly penniless. He had not\ncalculated that in parting with the bird he had parted with his luck,\nand therefore as soon as he dismounted the horse disappeared and his\nelegant dress became changed for the shabby one he had worn before he\nmet the kind individual who had wished to befriend him. When the\nbeautiful daughter of the lord of the castle beheld the transformation\nwhich had taken place she ran back to her father as fast as she could,\nfright lending wings to her feet.\n\nBartolo had to return to his old life of making cages and to his\nmiserable existence.\n\n\n\n\n_The Twelve Months_\n\n\nTHERE was once a woman who was left a widow with two children. The\nelder, who was only her stepdaughter, was named Dobrunka; the younger,\nwho was as wicked as her mother, was called Katinka. The mother\nworshiped her daughter, but she hated Dobrunka, simply because she was\nas beautiful as her sister was ugly. Dobrunka did not even know that she\nwas pretty, and she could not understand why her stepmother flew into a\nrage at the mere sight of her. The poor child was obliged to do all the\nwork of the house; she had to sweep, cook, wash, sew, spin, weave, cut\nthe grass, and take care of the cow, while Katinka lived like a\nprincess, that is to say, did nothing.\n\nDobrunka worked with a good will, and took reproaches and blows with the\ngentleness of a lamb; but nothing soothed her stepmother, for every day\nadded to the beauty of the elder sister and the ugliness of the younger.\n\"They are growing up,\" thought the mother, \"and suitors will soon appear\nwho will refuse my daughter when they see this hateful Dobrunka, who\ngrows beautiful on purpose to spite me. I must get rid of her, cost what\nit may.\"\n\nOne day in the middle of January, Katinka took a fancy for some violets.\nShe called Dobrunka and said: \"Go to the forest and bring me a bunch of\nviolets, that I may put them in my bosom and enjoy their fragrance.\"\n\n\"Oh, sister, what an idea!\" answered Dobrunka; \"as if there were any\nviolets under the snow!\"\n\n\"Hold your tongue, stupid lass,\" returned her sister, \"and do as I bid\nyou. If you do not go to the forest and bring me back a bunch of\nviolets, I will beat you to a jelly.\" Upon this the mother took Dobrunka\nby the arm, put her out of the door, and drew the bolt on her.\n\nThe poor girl went to the forest weeping bitterly. Every thing was\ncovered with snow; there was not even a footpath. She lost her way, and\nwandered about till, famishing with hunger and perishing with cold, she\nentreated God to take her from this wretched life.\n\nAll at once she saw a light in the distance. She went on, climbing\nhigher and higher, until at last she reached the top of a huge rock,\nupon which a great fire was built. Around the fire were twelve stones,\nand on each stone sat a motionless figure, wrapped in a large mantle,\nhis head covered with a hood which fell over his eyes. Three of these\nmantles were white like the snow, three were green like the grass of the\nmeadows, three were golden like the sheaves of ripe wheat, and three\nwere purple like the grapes of the vine. These twelve figures, gazing\nat the fire in silence, were the Twelve Months of the year.\n\n[Illustration: \"MARCH ROSE IN TURN, AND STIRRED THE FIRE WITH THE STAFF,\nWHEN, BEHOLD! . . . IT WAS SPRING\"]\n\nDobrunka knew January by his long white beard. He was the only one that\nhad a staff in his hand. The poor girl was terribly frightened. She drew\nnear, saying, in a timid voice: \"My good sirs, please let me warm myself\nby your fire; I am freezing with cold.\"\n\nJanuary nodded his head. \"Why have you come here, my child?\" he asked.\n\"What are you looking for?\"\n\n\"I am looking for violets,\" replied Dobrunka.\n\n\"This is not the season for them; there are no violets in the time of\nsnow,\" said January, in his gruff voice.\n\n\"I know it,\" replied Dobrunka sadly; \"but my sister and mother will beat\nme to a jelly if I do not bring them some. My good sirs, please tell me\nwhere I can find them.\"\n\nOld January rose, and, turning to a young man in a green mantle, put his\nstaff in his hand, and said to him, \"Brother March, this is your\nbusiness.\"\n\nMarch rose in turn, and stirred the fire with the staff, when behold!\nthe flames rose, the snow melted, the buds put forth on the trees, the\ngrass turned green under the bushes, the flowers peeped through the\nverdure, and the violets opened--it was spring.\n\n\"Make haste, my child, and gather your violets,\" said March.\n\nDobrunka gathered a large bouquet, thanked the Twelve Months, and\njoyfully ran home. You can imagine the astonishment of Katinka and the\nstepmother. The fragrance of the violets filled the whole house.\n\n\"Where did you find these fine things?\" asked Katinka, in a disdainful\nvoice.\n\n\"Up yonder on the mountain,\" answered her sister. \"It looked like a\ngreat blue carpet under the bushes.\"\n\nKatinka put the bouquet in her bosom, and did not even thank the poor\nchild.\n\nThe next morning the wicked sister, as she sat idling by the stove, took\na fancy for some strawberries.\n\n\"Go to the forest and bring me some strawberries,\" said she to Dobrunka.\n\n\"Oh, sister, what an idea! as if there were any strawberries under the\nsnow!\"\n\n\"Hold your tongue, stupid lass, and do as I bid you. If you don't go to\nthe forest and bring me back a basket of strawberries, I will beat you\nto a jelly.\"\n\nThe mother took Dobrunka by the arm, put her out of the door, and drew\nthe bolt on her.\n\nThe poor girl returned to the forest, looking with all her eyes for the\nlight that she had seen the day before. She was fortunate enough to spy\nit, and she reached the fire trembling and almost frozen.\n\nThe Twelve Months were in their places, motionless and silent.\n\n\"My good sirs,\" said Dobrunka, \"please let me warm myself by your fire;\nI am almost frozen with cold.\"\n\n\"Why have you returned?\" asked January. \"What are you looking for?\"\n\n\"I am looking for strawberries,\" answered she.\n\n\"This is not the season for them,\" returned January, in his gruff voice;\n\"there are no strawberries under the snow.\"\n\n\"I know it,\" replied Dobrunka sadly; \"but my mother and sister will beat\nme to a jelly if I do not bring them some. My good sirs, please tell me\nwhere I can find them.\"\n\nOld January rose, and, turning to a man in a golden mantle, he put his\nstaff in his hand, saying, \"Brother June, this is your business.\"\n\nJune rose in turn and stirred the fire with the staff, when behold! the\nflames rose, the snow melted, the earth grew green, the trees were\ncovered with leaves, the birds sang, and the flowers opened--it was\nsummer. Thousands of little white stars enameled the turf, then turned\nto red strawberries, looking, in their green cups, like rubies set in\nemeralds.\n\n\"Make haste, my child, and gather your strawberries,\" said June.\n\nDobrunka filled her apron, thanked the Twelve Months, and joyfully ran\nhome. You may imagine the astonishment of Katinka and the stepmother.\nThe fragrance of the strawberries filled the whole house.\n\n\"Where did you find these fine things?\" asked Katinka, in a disdainful\nvoice.\n\n\"Up yonder on the mountain,\" answered her sister; \"there were so many of\nthem that they looked like blood poured on the ground.\"\n\nKatinka and her mother devoured the strawberries without even thanking\nthe poor child.\n\nThe third day the wicked sister took a fancy for some red apples. The\nsame threats, the same insults, and the same violence followed. Dobrunka\nran to the mountain, and was fortunate enough to find the Twelve Months\nwarming themselves, motionless and silent.\n\n\"You here again, my child?\" said old January, making room for her by the\nfire. Dobrunka told him, with tears, how, if she did not bring home some\nred apples, her mother and sister would beat her to death.\n\nOld January repeated the ceremonies of the day before. \"Brother\nSeptember,\" said he to a gray-bearded man in a purple mantle, \"this is\nyour business.\"\n\nSeptember rose and stirred the fire with the staff, when behold! the\nflames ascended, the snow melted, and the trees put forth a few yellow\nleaves, which fell one by one before the wind--it was autumn. The only\nflowers were a few late pinks, daisies, and immortelles. Dobrunka saw\nbut one thing, an apple tree with its rosy fruit.\n\n\"Make haste, my child; shake the tree,\" said September.\n\nShe shook it, and an apple fell; she shook it again, and a second apple\nfollowed.\n\n\"Make haste, Dobrunka, make haste home!\" cried September, in an\nimperious voice.\n\nThe good child thanked the Twelve Months, and joyfully ran home. You may\nimagine the astonishment of Katinka and the stepmother.\n\n\"Fresh-plucked apples in January! Where did you get these apples?\" asked\nKatinka.\n\n\"Up yonder on the mountain; there is a tree there that is as red with\nthem as a cherry tree in July.\"\n\n\"Why did you bring only two? You ate the rest on the way.\"\n\n\"Oh, sister, I did not touch them; I was only permitted to shake the\ntree twice, and but two apples fell.\"\n\n\"Begone, you wretch!\" cried Katinka, striking her sister, who ran away\ncrying.\n\nThe wicked girl tasted one of the apples; she had never eaten anything\nso delicious in her life, neither had her mother. How they regretted not\nhaving any more!\n\n\"Mother,\" said Katinka, \"give me my fur cloak. I will go to the forest\nand find the tree, and, whether I am permitted or not, I will shake it\nso hard that all the apples will be ours.\"\n\nThe mother tried to stop her. A spoiled child listens to nothing.\nKatinka wrapped herself in her fur cloak, drew the hood over her head,\nand hastened to the forest.\n\nEverything was covered with snow; there was not even a footpath. Katinka\nlost her way, but she pushed on, spurred by pride and covetousness. She\nspied a light in the distance. She climbed and climbed till she reached\nthe place, and found the Twelve Months each seated on his stone,\nmotionless and silent. Without asking their permission, she approached\nthe fire.\n\n\"Why have you come here? What do you want? Where are you going?\" asked\nold January gruffly.\n\n\"What matters it to you, old fool?\" answered Katinka. \"It is none of\nyour business where I came from or whither I am going.\" She plunged into\nthe forest. January frowned, and raised his staff above his head. In the\ntwinkling of an eye the sky was overcast, the fire went out, the snow\nfell, and the wind blew. Katinka could not see the way before her. She\nlost herself, and vainly tried to retrace her steps. The snow fell and\nthe wind blew. She called her mother, she called her sister, she prayed\nto God. The snow fell and the wind blew. Katinka froze, her limbs\nstiffened, and she fell motionless. The snow still fell and the wind\nstill blew.\n\nThe mother went without ceasing from the window to the door, and from\nthe door to the window. The hours passed, and Katinka did not return.\n\n\"I must go and look for my daughter,\" said she. \"The child has forgotten\nherself with those hateful apples.\" She took her fur cloak and hood, and\nhastened to the mountain. Everything was covered with snow; there was\nnot even a footpath. She plunged into the forest, calling her daughter.\nThe snow fell and the wind blew. She walked on with feverish anxiety,\nshouting at the top of her voice. The snow still fell and the wind still\nblew.\n\nDobrunka waited through the evening and the night, but no one returned.\nIn the morning she took her wheel and spun a whole distaff full; there\nwas still no news. \"What can have happened?\" said the good girl,\nweeping. The sun was shining through an icy mist, and the ground was\ncovered with snow. Dobrunka prayed for her mother and sister. They did\nnot return; and it was not till spring that a shepherd found the two\nbodies in the forest.\n\nDobrunka remained the sole mistress of the house, the cow, and the\ngarden, to say nothing of a piece of meadow adjoining the house. But\nwhen a good and pretty girl has a field under her window, the next thing\nthat follows is a young farmer, who offers her his heart and hand.\nDobrunka was soon married. The Twelve Months did not abandon their\nchild. More than once, when the north wind blew fearfully and the\nwindows shook in their frames, old January stopped up all the crevices\nof the house with snow, so that the cold might not enter this peaceful\nabode.\n\nDobrunka lived to a good old age, always virtuous and happy, having,\naccording to the proverb, winter at the door, summer in the barn, autumn\nin the cellar, and spring in the heart.\n\n\n\n\n_The Bee, the Harp, the Mouse, and the Bum-Clock_\n\n\nONCE there was a widow, and she had one son, called Jack. Jack and his\nmother owned just three cows. They lived well and happy for a long time;\nbut at last hard times came down on them, and the crops failed, and\npoverty looked in at the door, and things got so sore against the poor\nwidow that for want of money and for want of necessities she had to make\nup her mind to sell one of the cows. \"Jack,\" she said one night, \"go\nover in the morning to the fair to sell the branny cow.\"\n\nWell and good: in the morning my brave Jack was up early, and took a\nstick in his fist and turned out the cow, and off to the fair he went\nwith her; and when Jack came into the fair, he saw a great crowd\ngathered in a ring in the street. He went into the crowd to see what\nthey were looking at, and there in the middle of them he saw a man with\na wee, wee harp, a mouse, and a bum-clock,[A] and a bee to play the\nharp. And when the man put them down on the ground and whistled, the bee\nbegan to play the harp, and the mouse and the bum-clock stood up on\ntheir hind legs and took hold of each other and began to waltz. And as\nsoon as the harp began to play and the mouse and the bum-clock to dance,\nthere wasn't a man or woman, or a thing in the fair that didn't begin to\ndance also; and the pots and pans, and the wheels and reels jumped and\njigged all over the town, and Jack himself and the branny cow were as\nbad as the next.\n\nThere was never a town in such a state before or since, and after a\nwhile the man picked up the bee, the harp, and the mouse, and the\nbum-clock and put them into his pocket, and the men and women, Jack and\nthe cow, the pots and pans, wheels and reels that had hopped and jigged\nnow stopped, and everyone began to laugh as if to break its heart. Then\nthe man turned to Jack. \"Jack,\" says he, \"how would you like to be\nmaster of all these animals?\"\n\n\"Why,\" says Jack, \"I should like it fine.\"\n\n\"Well, then,\" says the man, \"how will you and me make a bargain about\nthem?\"\n\n\"I have no money,\" says Jack.\n\n\"But you have a fine cow,\" says the man. \"I will give you the bee and\nthe harp for it.\"\n\n\"Oh, but,\" Jack says, says he, \"my poor mother at home is very sad and\nsorrowful entirely, and I have this cow to sell and lift her heart\nagain.\"\n\n\"And better than this she cannot get,\" says the man. \"For when she sees\nthe bee play the harp, she will laugh if she never laughed in her life\nbefore.\"\n\n\"Well,\" says Jack, says he, \"that will be grand.\"\n\nHe made the bargain. The man took the cow; and Jack started home with\nthe bee and the harp in his pocket, and when he came home his mother\nwelcomed him back.\n\n\"And Jack,\" says she, \"I see you have sold the cow.\"\n\n\"I have done that,\" says Jack.\n\n\"Did you do well?\" says the mother.\n\n\"I did well, and very well,\" says Jack.\n\n\"How much did you get for her?\" says the mother.\n\n\"Oh,\" says he, \"it was not for money at all I sold her, but for\nsomething far better.\"\n\n\"O, Jack! Jack!\" says she, \"what have you done?\"\n\n\"Just wait until you see, mother,\" says he, \"and you will soon say I\nhave done well.\"\n\nOut of his pocket he takes the bee and the harp and sets them in the\nmiddle of the floor, and whistles to them, and as soon as he did this\nthe bee began to play the harp, and the mother she looked at them and\nlet a big, great laugh out of her, and she and Jack began to dance, the\npots and pans, the wheels and reels began to jig and dance over the\nfloor, and the house itself hopped about also.\n\nWhen Jack picked up the bee and the harp again the dancing all stopped,\nand the mother laughed for a long time. But when she came to herself she\ngot very angry entirely with Jack, and she told him he was a silly,\nfoolish fellow, that there was neither food nor money in the house, and\nnow he had lost one of her good cows also. \"We must do something to\nlive,\" says she. \"Over to the fair you must go to-morrow morning, and\ntake the black cow with you and sell her.\"\n\nAnd off in the morning at an early hour brave Jack started, and never\nhalted until he was in the fair. When he came into the fair he saw a big\ncrowd gathered in a ring in the street. Said Jack to himself, \"I wonder\nwhat they are looking at.\"\n\nInto the crowd he pushed, and saw the wee man this day again with a\nmouse and a bum-clock, and he put them down in the street and whistled.\nThe mouse and the bum-clock stood up on their hind legs and got hold of\neach other and began to dance there and jig, and as they did there was\nnot a man or woman in the street who didn't begin to jig also, and Jack\nand the black cow, and the wheels and the reels, and the pots and pans,\nall of them were jigging and dancing all over the town, and the houses\nthemselves were jumping and hopping about, and such a place Jack or\nanyone else never saw before.\n\nWhen the man lifted the mouse and the bum-clock into his pocket they all\nstopped dancing and settled down, and everybody laughed right hearty.\nThe man turned to Jack. \"Jack,\" says he, \"I am glad to see you; how\nwould you like to have these animals?\"\n\n\"I should like well to have them,\" says Jack, says he, \"only I cannot.\"\n\n\"Why cannot you?\" says the man.\n\n\"Oh!\" says Jack, says he, \"I have no money, and my poor mother is very\ndownhearted. She sent me to the fair to sell this cow and bring some\nmoney to lift her heart.\"\n\n\"Oh!\" says the man, says he, \"if you want to lift your mother's heart I\nwill sell you the mouse, and when you set the bee to play the harp and\nthe mouse to dance to it, your mother will laugh if she never laughed in\nher life before.\"\n\n\"But I have no money,\" says Jack, says he, \"to buy your mouse.\"\n\n\"I don't mind,\" says the man, says he, \"I will take your cow for it.\"\n\nPoor Jack was so taken with the mouse, and had his mind so set on it,\nthat he thought it was a grand bargain entirely, and he gave the man his\ncow and took the mouse and started off for home; and when he got home\nhis mother welcomed him.\n\n\"Jack,\" says she, \"I see you have sold the cow.\"\n\n\"I did that,\" says Jack.\n\n\"Did you sell her well?\" says she.\n\n\"Very well indeed,\" says Jack, says he.\n\n\"How much did you get for her?\"\n\n\"I didn't get money,\" says he, \"but I got value.\"\n\n\"O Jack! Jack!\" says she, \"what do you mean?\"\n\n\"I will soon show you that, mother,\" says he, taking the mouse out of\nhis pocket and the harp and the bee, and setting all on the floor; and\nwhen he began to whistle, the bee began to play, and the mouse got up on\nits hind legs and began to dance and jig, and the mother gave such a\nhearty laugh as she never laughed in her life before. To dancing and\njigging herself and Jack fell, and the pots and pans and the wheels and\nreels began to dance and jig over the floor, and the house jigged also.\nAnd when they were tired of this, Jack lifted the harp and the mouse and\nthe bee and put them in his pocket, and his mother she laughed for a\nlong time.\n\nBut when she got over that she got very downhearted and very angry\nentirely with Jack. \"And oh, Jack!\" she says, \"you are a stupid,\ngood-for-nothing fellow. We have neither money nor meat in the house,\nand here you have lost two of my good cows, and I have only one left\nnow. To-morrow morning,\" she says, \"you must be up early and take this\ncow to the fair and sell her. See you get something to lift my heart\nup.\"\n\n\"I will do that,\" says Jack, says he. So he went to his bed, and early\nin the morning he was up and turned out the spotty cow and went to the\nfair.\n\nWhen Jack got to the fair he saw a crowd gathered in a ring in the\nstreet. \"I wonder what they are looking at, anyhow,\" says he. He pushed\nthrough the crowd, and there he saw the same wee man he had seen before,\nwith a bum-clock; and when he put the bum-clock on the ground he\nwhistled, and the bum-clock began to dance; and the men, women, and\nchildren in the street, and Jack and the spotty cow began to dance and\njig also, and everything on the street and about it--the wheels and\nreels, the pots and pans began to jig, and the houses themselves began\nto dance likewise. And when the man lifted the bum-clock and put it in\nhis pocket everybody stopped jigging and dancing and everyone laughed\naloud. The wee man turned and saw Jack.\n\n\"Jack, my brave boy,\" says he, \"you will never be right fixed until you\nhave this bum-clock, for it is a very fancy thing to have.\"\n\n\"Oh! but,\" says Jack, says he, \"I have no money.\"\n\n\"No matter for that,\" says the man; \"you have a cow, and that is as good\nas money to me.\"\n\n\"Well,\" says Jack, \"I have a poor mother who is very downhearted at\nhome, and she sent me to the fair to sell this cow and raise some money\nand lift her heart.\"\n\n\"Oh! but Jack,\" says the wee man, \"this bum-clock is the very thing to\nlift her heart, for when you put down your harp and bee and mouse on the\nfloor, and put the bum-clock along with them she will laugh if she never\nlaughed in her life before.\"\n\n\"Well, that is surely true,\" says Jack, says he, \"and I think I will\nmake a swap with you.\"\n\nSo Jack gave the cow to the man and took the bum-clock himself, and\nstarted for home. His mother was glad to see Jack back, and says she,\n\"Jack, I see that you have sold the cow.\"\n\n\"I did that, mother,\" says Jack.\n\n\"Did you sell her well, Jack?\" says the mother.\n\n\"Very well indeed, mother,\" says Jack.\n\n\"How much did you get for her?\" says the mother.\n\n\"I didn't take any money for her, mother, but value,\" says Jack, and he\ntakes out of his pocket the bum-clock and the mouse, and set them on the\nfloor and began to whistle, and the bee began to play the harp and the\nmouse and the bum-clock stood up on their hind legs and began to dance,\nand Jack's mother laughed very hearty, and everything in the house--the\nwheels and the reels and the pots and pans went jigging and hopping over\nthe floor, and the house itself went jigging and hopping about likewise.\n\nWhen Jack lifted up the animals and put them in his pocket everything\nstopped, and the mother laughed for a good while. But after a while,\nwhen she came to herself and saw what Jack had done and how they were\nnow without either money, or food, or a cow, she got very, very angry at\nJack and scolded him hard, and then sat down and began to cry.\n\nPoor Jack, when he looked at himself, confessed that he was a stupid\nfool entirely. \"And what,\" says he, \"shall I now do for my poor mother?\"\nHe went out along the road, thinking and thinking, and he met a wee\nwoman who said: \"Good morrow to you, Jack,\" says she, \"how is it you are\nnot trying for the King's daughter of Ireland?\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" says Jack.\n\nSays she: \"Didn't you hear what the whole world has heard, that the King\nof Ireland has a daughter who hasn't laughed for seven years, and he has\npromised to give her in marriage and to give the kingdom along with her\nto any man who will take three laughs out of her.\"\n\n\"If that is so,\" says Jack, says he, \"it is not here I should be.\"\n\nBack to the house he went and gathers together the bee, the harp, the\nmouse, and the bum-clock, and putting them into his pocket he bade his\nmother good-by, and told her it wouldn't be long till she got good news\nfrom him, and off he hurries.\n\nWhen he reached the castle there was a ring of spikes all around the\ncastle and men's heads on nearly every spike there.\n\n\"What heads are these?\" Jack asked one of the King's soldiers.\n\n\"Any man that comes here trying to win the King's daughter and fails to\nmake her laugh three times loses his head and has it stuck on a spike.\nThese are the heads of the men that failed,\" says he.\n\n\"A mighty big crowd,\" says Jack, says he. Then Jack sent word to tell\nthe King's daughter and the King that there was a new man who had come\nto win her.\n\nIn a very little time the King and the King's daughter and the King's\ncourt all came out and sat themselves down on gold-and-silver chairs in\nfront of the castle, and ordered Jack to be brought in until he should\nhave his trial. Jack, before he went, took out of his pocket the bee,\nthe harp, the mouse, and the bum-clock, and he gave the harp to the bee,\nand he tied a string to one and the other, and took the end of the\nstring himself, and marched into the castle yard before all the court,\nwith his animals coming on a string behind him.\n\nWhen the Queen and the King and the court and the princes saw poor\nragged Jack with his bee and mouse and bum-clock hopping behind him on a\nstring they set up one roar of laughter that was long and loud enough,\nand when the King's daughter herself lifted her head and looked to see\nwhat they were laughing at, and saw Jack and his paraphernalia, she\nopened her mouth and she gave such a laugh as was never heard before.\n\nThen Jack dropped a low courtesy and said: \"Thank you, my lady; I have\none of the three parts of you won.\"\n\nThen he drew up his animals in a circle and began to whistle, and the\nminute he did the bee began to play the harp, and the mouse and the\nbum-clock stood up on their hind legs, got hold of each other, and began\nto dance, and the King and the King's court and Jack himself began to\ndance and jig, and everything about the King's castle--pots and pans,\nwheels and reels, and the castle itself began to dance also. And the\nKing's daughter, when she saw this, opened her mouth again and gave a\nlaugh twice louder than she did before, and Jack, in the middle of his\njigging, drops another courtesy, and says: \"Thank you, my lady; that is\ntwo of the three parts of you won.\"\n\nJack and his menagerie went on playing and dancing, but Jack could not\nget the third laugh out of the King's daughter, and the poor fellow saw\nhis big head in danger of going on the spike. Then the brave mouse came\nto Jack's help and wheeled round upon its heel, and as it did so its\ntail swept into the bum-clock's mouth, and the bum-clock began to cough\nand cough and cough. And when the King's daughter saw this she opened\nher mouth again, and she laughed the loudest and hardest and merriest\nlaugh that was ever heard before or since; and, \"Thank you, my lady,\"\nsays Jack, dropping another courtesy; \"I have all of you won.\"\n\nThen when Jack stopped his menagerie the King took himself and the\nmenagerie within the castle. He was washed and combed and dressed in a\nsuit of silk and satin, with all kinds of gold and silver ornaments, and\nthen was led before the King's daughter. And true enough she confessed\nthat a handsomer and finer fellow than Jack she had never seen, and she\nwas very willing to be his wife.\n\nJack sent for his poor old mother and brought her to the wedding, which\nlasted nine days and nine nights, every night better than the other. All\nthe lords and ladies and gentry of Ireland were at the wedding. I was at\nit, too, and got brogues, broth and slippers of bread, and came jigging\nhome on my head.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[Footnote A: Cockroach.]\n\n\n\n\n_The Long Leather Bag_\n\n\nONCE on a time, long, long ago, there was a widow woman who had three\ndaughters. When their father died, their mother thought they never would\nwant, for he had left her a long leather bag filled with gold and\nsilver. But he was not long dead, when an old Hag came begging to the\nhouse one day and stole the long leather bag filled with gold and\nsilver, and went away out of the country with it, no one knew where.\n\nSo from that day, the widow woman and her three daughters were poor, and\nshe had a hard struggle to live and to bring up her three daughters.\n\nBut when they were grown up, the eldest said one day: \"Mother, I'm a\nyoung woman now, and it's a shame for me to be here doing nothing to\nhelp you or myself. Bake me a bannock and cut me a callop, till I go\naway to push my fortune.\"\n\nThe mother baked her a whole bannock, and asked her if she would have\nhalf of it with her blessing, or the whole of it without. She said to\ngive her the whole bannock without.\n\nSo she took it and went away. She told them if she was not back in a\nyear and a day from that, then they would know she was doing well, and\nmaking her fortune.\n\nShe traveled away and away before her, far farther than I could tell\nyou, and twice as far as you could tell me, until she came into a\nstrange country, and going up to a little house, she found an old Hag\nliving in it. The Hag asked her where she was going. She said she was\ngoing to push her fortune.\n\nSaid the Hag: \"How would you like to stay here with me, for I want a\nmaid?\"\n\n\"What will I have to do?\" said she.\n\n\"You will have to wash me and dress me, and sweep the hearth clean; but\non the peril of your life, never look up the chimney,\" said the Hag.\n\n\"All right,\" she agreed to this.\n\nThe next day, when the Hag arose, she washed her and dressed her, and\nwhen the Hag went out, she swept the hearth clean, and she thought it\nwould do no harm to have one wee look up the chimney. And there, what\ndid she see but her own mother's long leather bag of gold and silver! So\nshe took it down at once, and getting it on her back, started away for\nhome as fast as she could run.\n\nBut she had not gone far when she met a horse grazing in a field, and\nwhen he saw her he said: \"Rub me! Rub me! for I haven't been rubbed\nthese seven years.\"\n\nBut she only struck him with a stick she had in her hand, and drove him\nout of her way.\n\nShe had not gone much farther when she met a sheep, who said: \"Oh, shear\nme! Shear me! for I haven't been shorn these seven years.\"\n\nBut she struck the sheep, and sent it scurrying out of her way.\n\nShe had not gone much farther when she met a goat tethered, and he said:\n\"Oh, change my tether! Change my tether! for it hasn't been changed\nthese seven years.\"\n\nBut she flung a stone at him, and went on.\n\nNext she came to a limekiln, and it said: \"Oh, clean me! Clean me! for I\nhaven't been cleaned these seven years.\"\n\nBut she only scowled at it, and hurried on.\n\nAfter another bit she met a cow, and it said:\n\n\"Oh, milk me! Milk me! for I haven't been milked these seven years.\"\n\nShe struck the cow out of her way, and went on.\n\nThen she came to a mill. The mill said: \"Oh, turn me! Turn me! for I\nhaven't been turned these seven years.\"\n\nBut she did not heed what it said, only went in and lay down behind the\nmill door, with the bag under her head, for it was then night.\n\nWhen the Hag came into her hut again and found the girl gone, she ran to\nthe chimney and looked up to see if she had carried off the bag. She\nflew into a great rage, and she started to run as fast she could after\nher.\n\nShe had not gone far when she met the horse, and she said: \"Oh, horse,\nhorse of mine, did you see this maid of mine, with my tig, with my tag,\nwith my long leather bag, and all the gold and silver I have earned\nsince I was a maid?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said the horse, \"it is not long since she passed here.\"\n\nSo on she ran, and it was not long till she met the sheep, and said she:\n\"Sheep, sheep of mine, did you see this maid of mine, with my tig, with\nmy tag, with my long leather bag, and all the gold and silver I have\nearned since I was a maid?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said the sheep, \"it is not long since she passed here.\"\n\nSo she goes on, and it was not long before she met the goat, and said\nshe: \"Goat, goat of mine, did you see this maid of mine, with my tig,\nwith my tag, with my long leather bag, and all the gold and silver I\nhave earned since I was a maid?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said the goat, \"it is not long since she passed here.\"\n\nSo she goes on, and it was not long before she met the limekiln, and\nsaid she: \"Limekiln, limekiln of mine, did you see this maid of mine,\nwith my tig, with my tag, with my long leather bag, and with all the\ngold and silver I have earned since I was a maid?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said the limekiln, \"it is not long since she passed here.\"\n\nSo she goes on, and it was not long before she met the cow, and said\nshe: \"Cow, cow of mine, did you see this maid of mine, with my tig, with\nmy tag, with my long leather bag, and all the gold and silver I have\nearned since I was a maid?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said the cow, \"it is not long since she passed here.\"\n\nSo she goes on, and it was not long before she met the mill, and said\nshe: \"Mill, mill of mine, did you see this maid of mine, with my tig,\nwith my tag, with my long leather bag, and all the gold and silver I\nhave earned since I was a maid?\"\n\nAnd the mill said: \"Yes, she is sleeping behind the door.\"\n\nShe went in and struck her with a white rod, and turned her into a\nstone. She then took the bag of gold and silver on her back and went\naway back home.\n\nA year and a day had gone by after the eldest daughter left home, and\nwhen they found she had not returned, the second daughter got up, and\nshe said: \"My sister must be doing well and making her fortune, and\nisn't it a shame for me to be sitting here doing nothing, either to help\nyou, mother, or myself? Bake me a bannock,\" said she, \"and cut me a\ncallop, till I go away to push my fortune.\"\n\nThe mother did this, and asked her would she have half the bannock with\nher blessing, or the whole bannock without.\n\nShe said the whole bannock without, and she set off. Then she said: \"If\nI am not back here in a year and a day, you may be sure that I am doing\nwell and making my fortune,\" and then she went away.\n\nShe traveled away and away on before her, far farther than I could tell\nyou, and twice as far as you could tell me, until she came into a\nstrange country, and going up to a little house, she found an old Hag\nliving in it. The old Hag asked her where she was going. She said she\nwas going to push her fortune.\n\nSaid the Hag: \"How would you like to stay here with me, for I want a\nmaid?\"\n\n\"What will I have to do?\" says she.\n\n\"You'll have to wash me and dress me, and sweep the hearth clean; and on\nthe peril of your life never look up the chimney,\" said the Hag.\n\n\"All right,\" she agreed to this.\n\nThe next day, when the Hag arose, she washed her and dressed her, and\nwhen the Hag went out she swept the hearth, and she thought it would do\nno harm to have one wee look up the chimney. And there, what did she see\nbut her own mother's long leather bag of gold and silver! So she took it\ndown at once, and getting it on her back, started away for home as fast\nas she could run.\n\nBut she had not gone far when she met a horse grazing in a field, and\nwhen he saw her he said: \"Rub me! Rub me! for I haven't been rubbed\nthese seven years.\"\n\nBut she only struck him with a stick she had in her hand and drove him\nout of her way.\n\nShe had not gone much farther when she met the sheep, who said: \"Oh,\nshear me! Shear me! for I haven't been shorn in seven years.\"\n\nBut she struck the sheep and sent it scurrying out of her way.\n\nShe had not gone much farther when she met the goat tethered, and he\nsaid: \"Oh, change my tether! Change my tether! for it hasn't been\nchanged in seven years.\"\n\nBut she flung a stone at him and went on.\n\nNext she came to the limekiln, and that said: \"Oh, clean me! Clean me!\nfor I haven't been cleaned these seven years.\"\n\nBut she only scowled at it and hurried on.\n\nThen she came to the cow, and it said: \"Oh, milk me! Milk me! for I\nhaven't been milked these seven years.\"\n\nShe struck the cow out of her way and went on.\n\nThen she came to the mill. The mill said: \"Oh, turn me! Turn me! for I\nhaven't been turned these seven years.\"\n\nBut she did not heed what it said, only went in and lay down behind the\nmill door, with the bag under her head, for it was then night.\n\nWhen the Hag came into her hut again and found the girl gone, she ran to\nthe chimney and looked up to see if she had carried off the bag. She\nflew into a great rage, and she started to run as fast as she could\nafter her.\n\nShe had not gone far when she met the horse, and she said: \"Oh, horse,\nhorse of mine, did you see this maid of mine, with my tig, with my tag,\nwith my long leather bag, and all the gold and silver I have earned\nsince I was a maid?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said the horse, \"it is not long since she passed here.\"\n\nSo on she ran, and it was not long until she met the sheep, and said\nshe: \"Oh, sheep, sheep of mine, did you see this maid of mine, with my\ntig, with my tag, with my long leather bag, and all the gold and silver\nI have earned since I was a maid?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said the sheep, \"it is not long since she passed here.\"\n\nSo she goes on, and it was not long before she met the goat, and said:\n\"Goat, goat of mine, did you see this maid of mine, with my tig, with my\ntag, with my long leather bag, and all the gold and silver I have earned\nsince I was a maid?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said the goat, \"it is not long since she passed here.\"\n\nSo she goes on, and it was not long before she met the limekiln, and\nsaid she: \"Limekiln, limekiln of mine, did you see this maid of mine,\nwith my tig, with my tag, with my long leather bag, and all the gold and\nsilver I have earned since I was a maid?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said the limekiln, \"it is not long since she passed here.\"\n\nSo she goes on, and it was not long before she met the cow, and says\nshe: \"Cow, cow of mine, did you see this maid of mine, with my tig, with\nmy tag, with my long leather bag, and all the gold and silver I have\nearned since I was a maid?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said the cow, \"it is not long since she passed here.\"\n\nSo she goes on, and it was not long before she met the mill, and said\nshe: \"Mill, mill of mine, did you see this maid of mine, with my tig,\nwith my tag, with my long leather bag, and all the gold and silver I\nhave earned since I was a maid?\"\n\nAnd the mill said: \"Yes, she is sleeping behind the door.\"\n\nShe went in and struck her with a white rod, and turned her into a\nstone. She then took the bag of gold and silver on her back and went\nhome.\n\nWhen the second daughter had been gone a year and a day and she hadn't\ncome back, the youngest daughter said: \"My two sisters must be doing\nvery well indeed, and making great fortunes when they are not coming\nback, and it's a shame for me to be sitting here doing nothing, either\nto help you, mother, or myself. Make me a bannock and cut me a callop,\ntill I go away and push my fortune.\"\n\nThe mother did this, and asked her would she have half of the bannock\nwith her blessing, or the whole bannock without.\n\nShe said: \"I will have half of the bannock with your blessing, mother.\"\n\nThe mother gave her a blessing and half a bannock, and she set out.\n\nShe traveled away and away on before her, far farther than I could tell\nyou, and twice as far as you could tell me, until she came into a\nstrange country, and going up to a little house, she found an old Hag\nliving in it. The Hag asked her where she was going. She said she was\ngoing to push her fortune.\n\nSaid the Hag: \"How would you like to stay here with me, for I want a\nmaid?\"\n\n\"What will I have to do?\" said she.\n\n\"You'll have to wash me and dress me, and sweep the hearth clean; and on\nthe peril of your life never look up the chimney,\" said the Hag.\n\n\"All right,\" she agreed to this.\n\nThe next day when the Hag arose, she washed her and dressed her, and\nwhen the Hag went out she swept the hearth, and she thought it would do\nno harm to have one wee look up the chimney, and there, what did she see\nbut her own mother's long leather bag of gold and silver! So she took it\ndown at once, and getting it on her back, started away for home as fast\nas she could run.\n\nWhen she got to the horse, the horse said: \"Rub me! Rub me! for I\nhaven't been rubbed these seven years.\"\n\n\"Oh, poor horse, poor horse,\" she said, \"I'll surely do that.\" And she\nlaid down her bag and rubbed the horse.\n\nThen she went on, and it wasn't long before she met the sheep, who said:\n\"Oh, shear me! Shear me! for I haven't been shorn these seven years.\"\n\n\"Oh, poor sheep, poor sheep,\" she said, \"I'll surely do that,\" and she\nlaid down the bag and sheared the sheep.\n\nOn she went till she met the goat who said: \"Oh, change my tether!\nChange my tether! for it hasn't been changed these seven years.\"\n\n\"Oh, poor goat, poor goat,\" she said, \"I'll surely do that,\" and she\nlaid down the bag and changed the goat's tether.\n\nThen she went on till she met the limekiln. The limekiln said: \"Oh,\nclean me! Clean me! for I haven't been cleaned these seven years.\"\n\n\"Oh, poor limekiln, poor limekiln,\" she said, \"I'll surely do that,\" and\nshe laid down the bag and cleaned the limekiln.\n\nThen she went on and met the cow. The cow said: \"Oh, milk me! Milk me!\nfor I haven't been milked these seven years.\"\n\n\"Oh, poor cow, poor cow,\" she said, \"I'll surely do that,\" and she laid\ndown the bag and milked the cow.\n\nAt last she reached the mill. The mill said: \"Oh, turn me! Turn me! for\nI haven't been turned these seven years.\"\n\n\"Oh, poor mill, poor mill,\" she said, \"I'll surely do that,\" and she\nturned the mill too.\n\nAs night was on her she went in and lay down behind the mill door to\nsleep.\n\nWhen the Hag came into her hut again and found the girl gone, she ran to\nthe chimney to see if she had carried off the bag. She flew into a great\nrage, and started to run as fast as she could after her.\n\nShe had not gone far until she came up to the horse and said: \"Oh,\nhorse, horse of mine, did you see this maid of mine, with my tig, with\nmy tag, with my long leather bag, and all the gold and silver I have\nearned since I was a maid?\"\n\nThe horse said: \"Do you think I have nothing to do but watch your maids\nfor you? You may go somewhere else and look for information.\"\n\nThen she came upon the sheep. \"Oh, sheep, sheep of mine, have you seen\nthis maid of mine, with my tig, with my tag, with my long leather bag,\nand all the gold and silver I have earned since I was a maid?\"\n\nThe sheep said: \"Do you think I have nothing to do but watch your maids\nfor you? You may go somewhere else and look for information.\"\n\nThen she went on till she met the goat. \"Oh, goat, goat of mine, have\nyou seen this maid of mine, with my tig, with my tag, with my long\nleather bag, and all the gold and silver I have earned since I was a\nmaid?\"\n\nThe goat said: \"Do you think I have nothing to do but watch your maids\nfor you? You can go somewhere else and look for information.\"\n\nThen she went on till she came to the limekiln. \"Oh, limekiln, limekiln\nof mine, did you see this maid of mine, with my tig, with my tag, with\nmy long leather bag, and all the gold and silver I have earned since I\nwas a maid?\"\n\nSaid the limekiln: \"Do you think I have nothing to do but watch your\nmaids for you? You may go somewhere else and look for information.\"\n\nNext she met the cow. \"Oh, cow, cow of mine, have you seen this maid of\nmine, with my tig, with my tag, with my long leather bag, and all the\ngold and silver I have earned since I was a maid?\"\n\nThe cow said: \"Do you think I have nothing to do but watch your maids\nfor you? You may go somewhere else and look for information.\"\n\nThen she got to the mill. \"Oh, mill, mill of mine, have you seen this\nmaid of mine, with my tig, with my tag, with my long leather bag, and\nall the gold and silver I have earned since I was a maid?\"\n\nThe mill said: \"Come nearer and whisper to me.\"\n\nShe went nearer to whisper to the mill, and the mill dragged her under\nthe wheels and ground her up.\n\nThe old Hag had dropped the white rod out of her hand, and the mill told\nthe young girl to take this white rod and strike two stones behind the\nmill door. She did that, and her two sisters stood up. She hoisted the\nleather bag on her back, and the three of them set out and traveled\naway and away till they reached home.\n\nThe mother had been crying all the time while they were away, and was\nnow ever so glad to see them, and rich and happy they all lived ever\nafter.\n\n\n\n\n_The Widow's Daughter_\n\n\nTHERE was once a poor widow woman, living in the North of Ireland, who\nhad one daughter named Nabla. And Nabla grew up both idle and lazy, till\nat length, when she had grown to be a young woman, she was both\nthriftless and useless, fit only to sit with her heels in the ashes and\ncroon to the cat the day long. Her mother was annoyed with her, so that\none day, when Nabla refused to do some little trifle about the house,\nher mother got out a good stout sally rod and came in and thrashed her\nsoundly with it.\n\nAs her mother was giving Nabla the whacking she had so richly earned,\nwho should happen to be riding past but the King's son himself. He heard\nthe mother beating and scolding, and Nabla crying and pleading within.\nSo he drew rein, and at the top of his voice shouted to know what was\nthe matter. The widow came to the door, courtesying when she saw who he\nwas. Not wishing to give out a bad name on her daughter, she told the\nKing's son that she had a daughter who killed herself working the\nleelong day and refused to rest when her mother asked her, so that she\nhad always to be beaten before she would stop.\n\n\"What work can your daughter do?\" the Prince asked.\n\n\"She can spin, weave, and sew, and do every work that ever a woman did,\"\nthe mother replied.\n\nNow, it so happened that a twelvemonth before the Prince had taken a\nnotion of marrying, and his mother, anxious he should have none but the\nbest wife, with his approval, sent messengers over all Ireland to find\nhim a woman who could perform all a woman's duties, including the three\naccomplishments the widow named--spinning, that is, weaving and sewing.\nBut all the candidates whom the messengers had secured were found\nunsatisfactory on being put to trial, and the Prince had remained\nunwedded. When, now, the King's son heard this account of Nabla from her\nown mother he said:\n\n\"You are not fit to have the charge of such a good girl. For twelve\nmonths, through all parts of my mother's kingdom, search was being made\nfor just such a young woman that she might become my wife. I'll take\nNabla with me.\"\n\nPoor Nabla was rejoiced and her mother astonished. The King's son helped\nNabla to a seat behind him on the horse's back and bidding adieu to the\nwidow, rode off.\n\nWhen he had got Nabla home, he introduced her to his mother, telling the\nQueen that by good fortune he had secured the very woman they had so\nlong sought in vain. The Queen asked what Nabla could do, and he replied\nthat she could spin, weave, and sew, and do everything else a woman\nshould; and, moreover, she was so eager for work that her mother was\nbeating her within an inch of her life to make her rest herself when he\narrived on the scene at Nabla's own cottage. The Queen said that was\nwell.\n\nShe took Nabla to a large room and gave her a heap of silk and a golden\nwheel, and told her she must have all the silk spun into thread in\ntwenty-four hours. Then she bolted her in.\n\nPoor Nabla, in amazement, sat looking at the big heap of silk and the\ngolden wheel. And at length she began to cry, for she had not spun a\nyard of thread in all her life. As she cried an ugly woman, having one\nof her feet as big as a bolster, appeared before her.\n\n\"What are you crying for?\" she asked.\n\nNabla told her, and the woman said, \"I'll spin the silk for you if you\nask me to the wedding.\"\n\n\"I'll do that,\" Nabla said. And then the woman sat down to the wheel,\nand working it with her big foot, very soon had the whole heap spun.\n\nWhen the Queen came and found all spun she said: \"That is good.\" Then\nshe brought in a golden loom and told Nabla she must have all that\nthread woven in twenty-four hours.\n\nWhen the Queen had gone, Nabla sat down and looked from the thread to\nthe loom and from the loom to the thread, wondering, for she had not in\nall her life even thrown a shuttle. At length she put her face in her\nhands and began to cry. There now appeared to her an ugly woman with one\nhand as big as a pot hanging by her side. She asked Nabla why she cried.\nNabla told her, and then the woman said:\n\n\"I'll weave all that for you if you'll give me the promise of your\nwedding.\"\n\nNabla said she would surely. So the woman sat down to the golden loom,\nand very soon had all the thread woven into webs.\n\nWhen again the Queen came and found all woven she said: \"That is good.\"\nAnd then she gave Nabla a golden needle and thimble and said that in\ntwenty-four hours more she must have all the webs made into shirts for\nthe Prince.\n\nAgain when the Queen had gone, Nabla, who had never even threaded a\nneedle in all her life, sat for a while looking at the needle and\nthimble and looking at the webs of silk, and again she broke down, and\nbegan to cry heartily.\n\nAs she cried an ugly woman with a monstrously big nose came into the\nroom and asked:\n\n\"Why do you cry?\"\n\nWhen Nabla had told her, the ugly woman said:\n\n\"I'll make up all those webs into shirts for the Prince if you promise\nme the wedding.\"\n\n\"I'll do that,\" Nabla said, \"and a thousand welcomes.\"\n\nSo the woman with the big nose, taking the needle and thimble, sat down,\nand in a short time had made all the silk into shirts and disappeared\nagain.\n\nWhen the Queen came a third time and found all the silk made up in\nshirts she was mightily pleased and said:\n\n\"You are the very woman for my son, for he'll never want a housekeeper\nwhile he has you.\"\n\nThen Nabla and the Prince were betrothed, and on the wedding night there\nwas a gay and a gorgeous company in the hall of the castle. All was\nmirth and festivity. But as they were about to sit down to a splendid\nrepast there was a loud knock at the door. A servant opened it and there\ncame in an ugly old woman with one foot as big as a bolster who, amid\nthe loud laughter of the company, hobbled along the floor and took a\nseat at the table. She was asked of which party was she, the bride or\nthe groom's, and she replied that she was of the bride's party. When the\nPrince heard this he believed that she was one of Nabla's poor friends.\nHe went up to her and asked her what had made her foot so big.\n\n\"Spinning,\" she said, \"I have been all my life at the wheel, and that's\nwhat it has done for me.\"\n\n\"Then, by my word,\" said the Prince, striking the table a great blow,\n\"my wife shall not turn a wheel while I'm here to prevent it!\"\n\nAs the guests were again settling themselves another knock came to the\ndoor. A servant opening it, let in a woman with one hand as big as a\npot. The weight of this hand hanging by her side gave her body a great\nlean over, so that as she hobbled along the floor the company at the\ntable lay back, laughing and clapping their hands at the funny sight.\nThis woman, taking a seat at the table, was asked by whose invitation\nshe was there, to which she replied that she was of the bride's party.\nThen the Prince went up to her and inquired what caused her hand to be\nso big.\n\n\"Weaving,\" she said. \"I have slaved at the shuttle all my life; that's\nwhat has come on me.\"\n\n\"Then,\" the Prince said, striking the table a thundering blow, \"by my\nword, my wife shall never throw a shuttle again while I live to prevent\nit.\"\n\nA third time the guests were ready to begin their repast, when again\nthere came a knock to the door. Everyone looked up; and they saw the\nservant now admit an ugly old woman with the most monstrous nose ever\nbeheld. This woman likewise took a chair at the table. She was then\nasked who had invited her--the bride or the groom. She said she was one\nof the bride's party. Then the Prince, going up to her asked her why her\nnose had come to be so very big.\n\n[Illustration: \"AN UGLY OLD WOMAN WITH THE MOST MONSTROUS NOSE EVER\nBEHELD\"]\n\n\"It's with sewing,\" she said. \"All my life I have been bending my head\nover sewing, so that every drop of blood ran down into my nose, swelling\nit out like that.\"\n\nThen the Prince struck the table a blow that made the dishes leap and\nrattle.\n\n\"By my word,\" he said, \"my wife shall never either put a needle in cloth\nagain, or do any other sort of household work while I live to prevent\nit.\"\n\nAnd the Prince faithfully kept his word. He was always on the lookout to\ntry and catch Nabla spinning, weaving, or sewing, or doing any other\nsort of work, for he thought she might at any time try to work on the\nsly.\n\nPoor Nabla, however, never did anything to confirm his uneasiness, but,\ntaking her old mother to stay in the castle with her, lived happy and\ncontented, and as lazy as the day was long, ever after.\n\n\n\n\n_Munachar and Manachar_\n\n\nTHERE once lived a Munachar and a Manachar, a long time ago, and it is a\nlong time since it was, and if they were alive now they would not be\nalive then. They went out together to pick raspberries, and as many as\nMunachar used to pick Manachar used to eat. Munachar said he must go\nlook for a rod to make a gad to hang Manachar, who ate his raspberries\nevery one; and he came to the rod. \"What news to-day?\" said the rod. \"It\nis my own news that I'm seeking. Going looking for a rod, a rod to make\na gad, a gad to hang Manachar, who ate my raspberries every one.\n\n\"You will not get me,\" said the rod, \"until you get an ax to cut me.\" He\ncame to the ax. \"What news to-day?\" said the ax. \"It's my own news I'm\nseeking. Going looking for an ax, an ax to cut a rod, a rod to make a\ngad, a gad to hang Manachar, who ate my raspberries every one.\"\n\n\"You will not get me,\" said the ax, \"until you get a flag to edge me.\"\nHe came to the flag. \"What news to-day?\" says the flag. \"It's my own\nnews I'm seeking. Going looking for a flag, flag to edge ax, ax to cut a\nrod, a rod to to make a gad, a gad to hang Manachar, who ate my\nraspberries every one.\"\n\n\"You will not get me,\" says the flag, \"till you get water to wet me.\" He\ncame to the water. \"What news to-day?\" says the water. \"It's my own news\nI'm seeking. Going looking for water, water to wet flag, flag to edge\nax, ax to cut a rod, a rod to make a gad, a gad to hang Manachar, who\nate my raspberries every one.\"\n\n\"You will not get me,\" said the water, \"until you get a deer who will\nswim me.\" He came to the deer. \"What news to-day?\" says the deer. \"It's\nmy own news I'm seeking. Going looking for a deer, deer to swim water,\nwater to wet flag, flag to edge ax, ax to cut a rod, a rod to make a\ngad, a gad to hang Manachar, who ate my raspberries every one.\"\n\n\"You will not get me,\" said the deer, \"until you get a hound who will\nhunt me.\" He came to the hound. \"What news to-day?\" says the hound.\n\"It's my own news I'm seeking. Going looking for a hound, hound to hunt\ndeer, deer to swim water, water to wet flag, flag to edge ax, ax to cut\na rod, a rod to make a gad, a gad to hang Manachar, who ate my\nraspberries every one.\"\n\n\"You will not get me,\" said the hound, \"until you get a bit of butter to\nput in my claw.\" He came to the butter. \"What news to-day?\" says the\nbutter. \"It's my own news I'm seeking. Going looking for butter, butter\nto go in claw of hound, hound to hunt deer, deer to swim water, water to\nwet flag, flag to edge ax, ax to cut a rod, a rod to make a gad, a gad\nto hang Manachar, who ate my raspberries every one.\"\n\n\"You will not get me,\" said the butter, \"until you get a cat who shall\nscrape me.\" He came to the cat. \"What news to-day?\" said the cat. \"It's\nmy own news I'm seeking. Going looking for a cat, cat to scrape butter,\nbutter to go in claw of hound, hound to hunt deer, deer to swim water,\nwater to wet flag, flag to edge ax, ax to cut a rod, a rod to make a\ngad, a gad to hang Manachar, who ate my raspberries every one.\"\n\n\"You will not get me,\" said the cat, \"until you get milk which you will\ngive me.\" He came to the cow. \"What news to-day?\" said the cow. \"It's my\nown news I'm seeking. Going looking for a cow, cow to give me milk, milk\nI will give to the cat, cat to scrape butter, butter to go in claw of\nhound, hound to hunt deer, deer to swim water, water to wet flag, flag\nto edge ax, ax to cut a rod, a rod to make a gad, a gad to hang\nManachar, who ate my raspberries every one.\"\n\n\"You will not get any milk from me,\" said the cow, \"until you bring me a\nwhisp of straw from those threshers yonder.\" He came to the threshers.\n\"What news to-day?\" said the threshers. \"It's my own news I'm seeking.\nGoing looking for a whisp of straw to give to the cow, the cow to give\nme milk, milk I will give to the cat, cat to scrape butter, butter to go\nin claw of hound, hound to hunt deer, deer to swim water, water to wet\nflag, flag to edge ax, ax to cut a rod, a rod to make a gad, a gad to\nhang Manachar, who ate my raspberries every one.\"\n\n\"You will not get any whisp of straw from us,\" said the threshers,\n\"until you bring us the makings of a cake from the miller over yonder.\"\nHe came to the miller. \"What news to-day?\" said the miller. \"It's my own\nnews I'm seeking. Going looking for the makings of a cake which I will\ngive the threshers, the threshers to give me a whisp of straw, the whisp\nof straw I will give to the cow, the cow to give me milk, milk I will\ngive to the cat, cat to scrape butter, butter to go in claw of hound,\nhound to hunt deer, deer to swim water, water to wet flag, flag to edge\nax, ax to cut a rod, a rod to make a gad, a gad to hang Manachar, who\nate my raspberries every one.\"\n\n\"You will not get any makings of a cake from me,\" said the miller, \"till\nyou bring me the full of that sieve of water from the river over there.\"\n\nHe took the sieve in his hand and went over to the river, but as often\nas ever he would stoop and fill it with water, the moment he raised it\nthe water would run out of it again, and sure, if he had been there,\nfrom that day till this, he never could have filled it. A crow went\nflying by him, over his head, \"Daub! daub!\" said the crow. \"My blessings\non ye, then,\" said Munachar, \"but it's the good advice you have\"; and he\ntook the red clay and the daub that was by the brink, and he rubbed it\nto the bottom of the sieve, until all the holes were filled, and then\nthe sieve held the water, and he brought the water to the miller, and\nthe miller gave him the makings of a cake, and he gave the makings of\nthe cake to the threshers, and the threshers gave him a whisp of straw,\nand he gave the whisp of straw to the cow, and the cow gave him milk,\nthe milk he gave to the cat, the cat scraped the butter, the butter went\ninto the claw of the hound, the hound hunted the deer, the deer swam the\nwater, the water wet the flag, the flag sharpened the ax, the ax cut the\nrod, and the rod made a gad, and when he had it ready to hang Manachar\nhe found that Manachar had BURST.\n\n\n\n\n_The Road to Fortune_\n\n\nONE fine morning two young men were strolling together through the\nfields, when they perceived, at a great distance, a very high hill, on\nthe top of which stood a beautiful castle, which sparkled so brightly in\nthe sunshine that the youths were quite delighted, and could not help\ngazing at it.\n\n\"Let us go to it,\" said one of the lads.\n\n\"It is easy to say, 'Let us go,' but how can we walk so far?\" retorted\nthe other, who was a lazy fellow.\n\n\"You may do it easily,\" replied a clear voice behind them.\n\nOn looking around to see whence these words came, they perceived a\nbeautiful fairy standing on a large ball, which rolled along with her\nupon it in the direction of the castle.\n\n\"It is no very difficult task for her, at all events. Look, she can get\nforward without moving a limb,\" said the lazy one, throwing himself down\non the grass.\n\nThe other, however, was not so easily satisfied; for, without stopping\nto reflect, he started off after the fairy as fast as he could run, and\ncatching hold of the skirts of her robe cried, \"Who art thou?\"\n\n\"I am Fortune,\" answered the fairy, \"and yonder is my castle--follow me\nthere! If thou reachest it before midnight, I will receive thee as a\nfriend; but remember, shouldst thou arrive one moment later, my door\nwill be closed against thee.\"\n\nWith these words the fairy drew her robe from the hand of the young man,\nand went off so quickly upon her ball that she was soon out of sight.\n\nThe youth immediately ran back to his companion and told him all that\nhad happened, adding: \"I intend taking the fairy's advice. Will you\naccompany me?\"\n\n\"Are you mad?\" inquired the other; \"for my part, if I had a good horse I\nshould not mind the journey, but as for walking all that way, I\ncertainly shall not attempt it.\"\n\n\"Farewell then,\" answered his comrade, who started off at a brisk pace\nin the direction of the castle.\n\nThe lazy one, however, reasoned thus to himself: \"Exert yourself as much\nas you please, my worthy friend. Good fortune often comes while we are\ndozing; perhaps it may be my case to-day.\" And without more ado he\nstretched himself on the grass and fell fast asleep; not, however,\nbefore he had cast a longing glance at the beautiful castle on the\nhill. After sleeping some time he felt as though there were a warm wind\nblowing on his ear, and when he had stretched his slothful limbs and\nrubbed his sleepy eyes, he perceived a beautiful milk-white horse, ready\nsaddled, standing beside him, shaking his mane and neighing lustily in\nthe clear morning air.\n\n\"Ah, did I not say as much?\" cried the youth. \"Oh, if people would but\ntrust to Fate! Come here, you fine creature! We must be good friends.\"\nSo saying, he threw himself into the saddle, and the steed galloped off\nwith him as swift as the wind. Thus mounted, our lazy friend very soon\novertook his industrious companion, and hailing him as he passed cried:\n\"Show respect to my horse's heels!\" The other, however, continued on at\na steady pace, without paying much heed to his satire.\n\nAbout midday, on arriving at the summit of a beautiful hill, the horse\nsuddenly stopped. \"Quite right,\" cried his rider; \"I find you are a very\nsagacious creature--'soft and fairly' is a good proverb; the castle is\nnow not very far off, but my appetite is a great deal nearer.\" So\ndismounting, he sought out a shady slope, and having laid down in the\nmoss with his feet against the stump of a tree, he began to take some\nrefreshment--for happily he had a good supply of bread and sausage in\nhis pocket, and a pleasant drink in his flask. As soon as the youth had\nsatisfied his appetite, he began to feel rather drowsy, and, as is usual\nwith indolent people, he gave full vent to the inclination, stretched\nhimself on the moss, and fell into a sound sleep. Never had man a more\npleasant sleep, nor accompanied with more delightful dreams. He imagined\nthat he was already in the castle, reposing on silken cushions; and that\nall that he desired came to him immediately upon his beckoning with his\nlittle finger. After thus enjoying himself for some time, it seemed as\nthough a firework went off with a great explosion; this was followed by\nstrains of soft music, which went to the tune of a song he had often\nheard, every verse of which terminated with these words:\n\n \"Healthful limbs and spirits gay,\n Bear the traveler on his way.\"\n\nThis continued some time, when he awoke with the song still ringing in\nhis ears; then rubbing his eyes, he perceived that the setting sun was\nfast sinking behind the castle, and heard the voice of his companion\nsinging from the valley before him the very words he had heard in his\ndream.\n\n\"What a time I have slept!\" cried the lazy fellow. \"It is high time that\nI was getting on my way. Come here, my steed! where are you?\" But no\nsteed was to be found; the only creature that he could see, after\nlooking all around, was an old gray donkey, grazing on the top of a hill\nat some distance. He shouted and whistled with all his might, but the\nhorse was gone quite out of hearing, and the old donkey did not seem to\npay the least attention. So, after exerting his lungs to no purpose, the\nlazy fellow was obliged to go and try to make friends with the gray old\nbeast, which allowed itself to be quietly mounted, and then trudged\nslowly on with him.\n\nBut our youth found this kind of traveling very different from the\nprevious stage, for then he not only proceeded at a much quicker pace,\nbut had a more comfortable seat, which was by no means an unimportant\nconsideration with him. In the course of a short time it began to grow\ndark, and heavy clouds overspread the sky; already he could perceive\nthat the castle was being lighted up, and now he began to be very\nfrightened and anxious to get forward. The donkey, however, did not seem\nin any way to partake of his feelings, but continued on at even a slower\npace than before. At length it became quite dark, and the donkey, after\ngoing slower and slower, came to a dead stand in the midst of a thick\nwood. All his entreaties were of no use, nor were threats and kicks of\nmore avail--the donkey would not move. At last the rider became so\nexasperated that he struck it with his fist; but this did not much\nimprove our lazy friend's condition, for the obstinate brute instantly\nflung up its hind legs, and by that process released itself of its\nburden, which fell heavily on the ground. It required much less\nviolence than our youth experienced in his fall to prove to him that he\nwas not lying on a satin couch, for his legs and arms were dreadfully\nbruised. He remained some time in this miserable plight, but the bright\nand inviting appearance of the lights in the castle at length attracted\nhis attention. \"Ah!\" thought he, \"what beautiful beds must there be in\nthat fine building!\"\n\nThis thought alone aroused for a moment his sluggish energies, and he\nmanaged to get on his feet. \"Perhaps,\" thought he, \"the gray old donkey\nmay by this time have got into a better temper.\" So he searched about\nfor him in every direction; but after knocking his head against the\ntrees here, tearing his face with the thorns there, and stumbling over\nroots and stones for a full quarter of an hour without finding it, he\ngave up the search as hopeless. It was high time, however, that he made\nsome effort to get out of this dismal wood, which every now and then\nresounded with dreary howls, sounding very much as though they proceeded\nfrom the throats of hungry wolves. At last, when quite bewildered with\nfear, he suddenly stumbled against something soft and slimy; he knew by\nthe touch that it was not the donkey, but fancying it to be in the form\nof a saddle, he was about to bestride it at once; yet he found it so\ncold and damp to the touch that he quite shuddered at the thought. He\nwas still hesitating when the castle clock struck, and he counted\neleven. Recollecting that it was drawing near to the eventful time and\nthat he had no other hope, he threw himself on what appeared to be the\nsaddle. He found his seat tolerably easy, as it was very soft, and at\nhis back was something to lean against; another great advantage was that\nthe creature on which he was mounted seemed to be very surefooted; there\nwas, however, one great objection to it, and that was the creeping pace\nat which it moved, for it went along much slower than even the obstinate\ndonkey.\n\nProceeding thus for some time, he got so near to the castle that he\ncould count the windows, and in this occupation he was engaged when\nsuddenly the moon shone out from between the clouds, and, oh, horror!\nwhat did he behold. The creature on which he sat was neither a horse nor\na donkey, but an enormous snail, quite as large as a calf, and its house\nwhich it carried upon its back had served him to lean against! Now he\ncould well understand why he had come at such a creeping pace. He turned\nas cold as death, and his hair stood on end with fright! But there was\nnow no time for fear, for the castle clock had already made the woods\nresound with the first stroke of the midnight hour, just as his steed\ncrawled out from the wood. Then how great was the young man's\nastonishment when he beheld the castle of Fortune in all its grandeur!\nHitherto he had sat quietly on the snail, without hastening it, or in\nany way interfering with its pace; at the sight of the castle, however,\nhe dashed both his heels into its sides, and attempted to urge it on. To\nthis treatment the snail was quite unaccustomed, and instantly it drew\nits head into its shell and left the youth sprawling on the ground. The\ncastle clock rang out the second stroke. Had the lazy fellow but\nmustered up resolution and trusted to his feet even then, he might have\nreached the castle in time. But no, there he stood crying bitterly and\nscreaming out: \"A beast! a beast! of whatever kind it may be, to carry\nme to yon castle.\"\n\nThe inmates of the building had already begun to extinguish the lights,\nand the moon being hidden by the clouds, he was again in total darkness.\nAs the clock struck the third time he heard something moving near him,\nand, as well as he could make out in the dark, it seemed like a saddled\nhorse: \"Ah, that is my long-lost steed,\" cried he, \"that Heaven has\nkindly sent to me at the needful moment!\" As quickly as his lazy limbs\nwould enable him, he leaped on the back of the creature. There was now\nonly a little elevation to be surmounted, and he could easily see his\ncompanion standing at the open door of the castle waving his cap and\nbeckoning him on. The clock chimed out the fourth stroke when the\ncreature whereon he sat began to move slowly; then went the fifth and\nsixth strokes, and it began to advance a little at a very awkward pace;\nat the seventh, the creature began to move, first sideways and then went\nbackward! To his great horror and surprise the rider found that he could\nnot throw himself off, though he struggled with all his might. By a\npassing ray of the moon, he discovered that the new steed on which he\nwas riding was a horrid monster with ten legs, and from either side\nthere extended a large claw with which it held him fast by the arms. The\nyouth screamed loudly for help, but all to no purpose; the animal still\nkept receding farther and farther from the castle, while the eventful\nmoment approached nearer and nearer, until the twelfth stroke proclaimed\nthe midnight hour. A flitting ray of the moon displayed the castle once\nmore to his view in all its splendor. But in the same moment the youth\nheard the door shut, and the rattling noise of chains and bolts. The\nentrance to the castle of Fortune was closed against him forever! The\nmoon now shone again in full luster and discovered the horrid monster,\nthat still kept carrying him away, to be nothing more nor less than an\nenormous crab. Where he went to on this uncommon steed I cannot tell;\nfor the fact is, nobody ever troubled themselves further about the lazy\nfellow.\n\n\n\n\n_The Golden Crab_\n\n\nONCE upon a time there was a fisherman who had a wife and three\nchildren. Every morning he used to go out fishing, and whatever fish he\ncaught he sold to the King. One day, among the other fishes, he caught a\ngolden crab. When he came home he put all the fishes together into a\ngreat dish, but he kept the crab separate because it shone so\nbeautifully, and placed it upon a high shelf in the cupboard. Now, while\nthe old woman, his wife, was cleaning the fish, and had tucked up her\ngown so that her feet were visible, she suddenly heard a voice, which\nsaid:\n\n \"Let down, let down thy petticoat\n That lets thy feet be seen.\"\n\nShe turned around in surprise, and then she saw the little creature, the\ngolden crab.\n\n\"What! You can speak, can you, you ridiculous crab?\" she said, for she\nwas not quite pleased at the crab's remark. Then she took him up and\nplaced him on a dish.\n\nWhen her husband came home and they sat down to dinner, they presently\nheard the crab's little voice saying: \"Give me some, too.\" They were all\nvery much surprised, but they gave him something to eat. When the old\nman came to take away the plate which had contained the crab's dinner,\nhe found it full of gold, and as the same thing happened every day he\nsoon became very fond of the crab.\n\nOne day the crab said to the fisherman's wife: \"Go to the King and tell\nhim I wish to marry his younger daughter.\"\n\nThe old woman went accordingly and laid the matter before the King, who\nlaughed a little at the notion of his daughter marrying a crab, but did\nnot decline the proposal altogether, because he was a prudent monarch\nand knew that the crab was likely to be a prince in disguise. He said,\ntherefore, to the fisherman's wife: \"Go, old woman, and tell the crab I\nwill give him my daughter if by to-morrow morning he can build a wall in\nfront of my castle much higher than my tower, upon which all the flowers\nof the world must grow and bloom.\"\n\nThe fisherman's wife went home and gave this message.\n\nThen the crab gave her a golden rod and said: \"Go and strike with this\nrod three times upon the ground on the place which the King showed you,\nand to-morrow morning the wall will be there.\"\n\nThe old woman did so and went away again.\n\nThe next morning, when the King awoke, what do you think he saw? The\nwall stood there before his eyes, exactly as he had bespoken it!\n\nThen the old woman went back to the King and said to him: \"Your\nmajesty's orders have been fulfilled.\"\n\n\"That is all very well,\" said the King, \"but I cannot give away my\ndaughter until there stands in front of my palace a garden in which\nthere are three fountains, of which the first must play gold, the second\ndiamonds, and the third brilliants.\"\n\nSo the old woman had to strike again three times upon the ground with\nthe rod, and the next morning the garden was there. The King now gave\nhis consent, and the wedding was fixed for the very next day.\n\nThen the crab said to the old fisherman:\n\n\"Now take this rod; go and knock with it on a certain mountain; then a\nblack man will come out and ask you what you wish for. Answer him thus:\n'Your master, the King, has sent me to tell you that you must send him\nhis golden garment that is like the sun.' Make him give you, besides,\nthe queenly robes of gold and precious stones which are like the flowery\nmeadows, and bring them both to me, and bring me also the golden\ncushion.\"\n\nThe old man went and did his errand. When he had brought the precious\nrobes the crab put on the golden garment and then crept upon the golden\ncushion, and in this way the fisherman carried him to the castle, where\nthe crab presented the other garment to his bride. Now the ceremony took\nplace, and when the married pair were alone together the crab made\nhimself known to his young wife, and told her how he was the son of the\ngreatest king in the world, and how he was enchanted, so that he became\na crab by day and was a man only at night and he could also change\nhimself into an eagle as often as he wished. No sooner had he said this\nthan he shook himself and immediately became a handsome youth; but the\nnext morning he was forced to creep back again into his crabshell. And\nthe same thing happened every day. But the Princess's affection for the\ncrab and the polite attention with which she behaved to him surprised\nthe royal family very much. They suspected some secret, but though they\nspied and spied, they could not discover it. Thus a year passed away and\nthe Princess had a son, whom she called Benjamin. But her mother still\nthought the whole matter very strange. At last she said to the King that\nhe ought to ask his daughter whether she would not like to have another\nhusband instead of the crab. But when the daughter was questioned she\nonly answered:\n\n[Illustration: \"IN THIS WAY THE FISHERMAN CARRIED HIM TO THE CASTLE\"]\n\n\"I am married to the crab, and him only will I have.\"\n\nThen the King said to her: \"I will appoint a tournament in your honor\nand I will invite all the princes in the world to it, and if any one of\nthem pleases you you shall marry him.\"\n\nIn the evening the Princess told this to the crab, who said to her:\n\"Take this rod; go to the garden gate and knock with it; then a black\nman will come out and say to you, 'Why have you called me and what do\nyou require of me?' Answer him thus: 'Your master the King has sent me\nhither to tell you to send him his golden armor and his steed and the\nsilver apple.' And bring them to me.\"\n\nThe Princess did so and brought him what he desired.\n\nThe following evening the Prince dressed himself for the tournament.\nBefore he went he said to his wife: \"Now mind you do not say when you\nsee me that I am the crab. For if you do this evil will come of it.\nPlace yourself at the window with your sisters; I will ride by and throw\nyou the silver apple. Take it in your hand, but if they ask who I am,\nsay that you do not know.\" So saying, he kissed her, repeated his\nwarning once more, and went away.\n\nThe Princess went with her sisters to the window and looked on at the\ntournament. Presently her husband rode by and threw the apple up to her.\nShe caught it in her hand and went with it to her room, and by and by\nher husband came back to her. But her father was much surprised that she\ndid not seem to care about any of the princes; he therefore appointed a\nsecond tournament.\n\nThe crab then gave his wife the same directions as before, only this\ntime the apple which she received from the black man was of gold. But\nbefore the Prince went to the tournament he said to his wife: \"Now I\nknow you will betray me to-day.\"\n\nBut she swore to him that she would not tell who he was. He then\nrepeated his warning and went away.\n\nIn the evening, while the Princess, with her mother and sisters, was\nstanding at the window, the Prince suddenly galloped past on his steed\nand threw her the golden apple.\n\nThen her mother flew into a passion, gave her a box on the ear, and\ncried out: \"Does not even that prince please you, you fool?\"\n\nThe Princess in her fright exclaimed: \"That is the crab himself!\"\n\nHer mother was still more angry because she had not been told sooner,\nran into her daughter's room where the crab shell was still lying, took\nit up and threw it into the fire. Then the poor Princess cried bitterly,\nbut it was of no use; her husband did not come back.\n\nNow we must leave the Princess and turn to the other persons in the\nstory. One day an old man went to a stream to dip in a crust of bread\nwhich he was going to eat, when a dog came out of the water, snatched\nthe bread from his hand, and ran away. The old man ran after him, but\nthe dog reached a door, pushed it open, and ran in, the old man\nfollowing him. He did not overtake the dog, but found himself above a\nstaircase, which he descended. Then he saw before him a stately palace,\nand entering, he found in a large hall a table set for twelve persons.\nHe hid himself in the hall behind a great picture, that he might see\nwhat would happen. At noon he heard a great noise, so that he trembled\nwith fear. When he took courage to look out from behind the picture he\nsaw twelve eagles flying in. At this sight his fear became still\ngreater. The eagles flew to the basin of a fountain that was there and\nbathed themselves, when suddenly they were changed into twelve handsome\nyouths. Now they seated themselves at the table, and one of them took up\na goblet filled with wine and said, \"A health to my father!\" And another\nsaid, \"A health to my mother!\" and so the healths went round. Then one\nof them said:\n\n \"A health to my dearest lady,\n Long may she live and well!\n But a curse on the cruel mother\n Who burned my golden shell!\"\n\nAnd so saying, he wept bitterly. Then the youths rose from the table,\nwent back to the great stone fountain, turned themselves into eagles\nagain and flew away.\n\nThen the old man went away too, returned to the light of day and went\nhome. Soon after he heard that the Princess was ill, and that the only\nthing that did her good was having stories told to her. He therefore\nwent to the royal castle, obtained an audience of the Princess, and told\nher about the strange things he had seen in the underground palace. No\nsooner had he finished than the Princess asked him whether he could find\nthe way to that palace.\n\n\"Yes, certainly,\" he answered.\n\nAnd now she desired him to guide her thither at once. The old man did\nso, and when they came to the palace he hid her behind the great picture\nand advised her to keep quite still, and he placed himself behind the\npicture also. Presently the eagles came flying in and changed themselves\ninto young men, and in a moment the Princess recognized her husband\namong them all and tried to come out of her hiding place; but the old\nman held her back. The youths seated themselves at the table; and now\nthe Prince said again, while he took up the cup of wine:\n\n \"A health to my dearest lady,\n Long may she live and well!\n But a curse on the cruel mother\n Who burned my golden shell!\"\n\nThen the Princess could restrain herself no longer, but ran forward and\nthrew her arms around her husband. And immediately he knew her again and\nsaid:\n\n\"Do you remember how I told you that day that you would betray me? Now\nyou see that I spoke the truth. But all that evil time is past. Now\nlisten to me: I must still remain enchanted for three months. Will you\nstay here with me till that time is over?\"\n\nSo the Princess stayed with him and said to the old man: \"Go back to the\ncastle and tell my parents that I am staying here.\"\n\nHer parents were very much vexed when the old man came back and told\nthem this, but as soon as the three months of the Prince's enchantment\nwere over he ceased to be an eagle and became once more a man, and they\nreturned home together. And then they lived happily, and we who hear the\nstory are happier still.\n\n\n\n\n_The Table, the Ass, and the Stick_\n\n\nONCE upon a time, a long time ago, there lived a Tailor and his three\nsons; but they only had one Goat, which, as it had to give milk enough\nfor all, had to feed well every day. The sons had to lead it to pasture\nin turns, and one morning, when it was the turn of the eldest, he took\nit into the churchyard, where grew the richest grass, and let it eat its\nfill. In the evening, when it was time to return, he said:\n\n\"Goat, have you eaten well?\"\n\nAnd the Goat answered:\n\n \"'Tis said that enough is as good as a feast,\n And I've had enough for a wise little beast.\"\n\n\"Then we will go home,\" said the youth; and he led the Goat home by its\nhalter, and tied it up in the stable for the night.\n\n\"Well,\" said the Tailor, \"has the Goat eaten well?\"\n\n\"It has eaten as much as it can,\" answered the boy.\n\nBut the father wanted to make sure; so he went into the stable and\nstroked the Goat, saying:\n\n\"Goat, have you eaten well?\"\n\nThe wicked Goat replied:\n\n \"How can I have eaten well?\n I wandered where the dead lie,\n But nothing found to feed upon.\"\n\n\"What do you say?\" cried the Tailor, and running in to his son he cried,\n\"Oh, you wicked boy! you told me the Goat had eaten well, and I find him\nshivering in the stable almost famished!\" and, seizing his yard measure,\nhe chased the boy out of the house in great wrath.\n\nThe next day it was the second son's turn, and he chose a place under\nthe hedge in the garden where there grew some fine rich grass, which the\nGoat was not long in eating up completely. When the evening came, and it\nwas time to go home, this lad, too, asked the Goat if it had had enough,\nand it answered as before:\n\n \"'Tis said that enough is as good as a feast,\n And I've had enough for a wise little beast.\"\n\n\"Then we will go home,\" said the boy, and he took it to the stable and\ntied it up. When he went into the house, the Tailor met him, and asked\nhim:\n\n\"Has the Goat eaten well?\"\n\n\"It has eaten as much as it can,\" answered his son.\n\nBut the Tailor would make sure for all that, and nothing would satisfy\nhim but that he should go to the stable and ask the Goat for himself.\n\n \"How can I have eaten well?\n I roamed all day along the hedge,\n And nothing found to feed upon,\"\n\nanswered the Goat.\n\n\"You bad rascal, to starve such a splendid animal!\" cried the Tailor,\nrunning back to the house and catching up his yard measure. Then with\ncuffs and blows he chased his second son out of the house.\n\nThe next day it was the third boy's turn, and he found a spot where\nthere was some lovely young grass; and when it was time to go home, he\nasked the Goat the same question, and obtained the same answer:\n\n \"'Tis said that enough is as good as a feast,\n And I've had enough for a wise little beast.\"\n\nSo the lad led the Goat home, and he put it in the stable; and soon the\nTailor came and asked if the Goat had had enough.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the boy.\n\nBut the old man would go and make sure for all that.\n\n \"How can I have eaten well?\n I sought all day among the leaves,\n And nothing found to feed upon,\"\n\nwas the wicked Goat's answer.\n\n\"The scamp!\" cried the Tailor in a fury; \"he is as bad as the others,\nand out he shall go!\" and he drove the poor boy out with the yard\nmeasure, dealing him fearful blows.\n\nNow the Tailor was left alone to look after the Goat, and next day he\nwent to it and said:\n\n\"Come, pretty creature, I will take you myself to pasture,\" and he took\nit to the lettuce bed, and there it fed all day. When night came he\nasked it, as the boys had done, if it had eaten well, and it said:\n\n \"'Tis said that enough is as good as a feast,\n And I've had enough for a wise little beast.\"\n\nSo they went home, and he put it in the stable; but as he was going, he\nsaid once more:\n\n\"Goat, have you eaten well?\"\n\nThe wicked animal, not thinking for the moment to whom he was replying,\nanswered with the usual complaint:\n\n \"How can I have eaten well?\n I only frisked about the bed,\n And nothing found to feed upon.\"\n\nWhen the old man heard this he was horrified, for he saw at once how\nthings had stood all the time, and that he had driven his boys away for\nno reason whatever.\n\n\"Oh, you brute!\" he said. \"You, too, shall be driven out; and I will\ntake care that you never dare to appear among honest tailors again.\"\n\nSo he rushed into the house for his razor, and shaved the Goat's head as\nsmooth as your face; and because the yard measure was too good to use\nupon him, he fetched his whip and gave the Goat such a sound thrashing\nthat it was only too glad to scamper out of the stable and make off as\nfast as its legs could carry it.\n\nWhen the Tailor returned into his house he was overcome with sorrow for\nthe three sons whom he had driven from home, and who were wandering no\none knew where.\n\nHowever, the eldest boy had apprenticed himself to a carpenter, and he\nworked with him well and merrily till his time was out. Then his master\ngave him a table, which, though it looked only like an ordinary common\nwooden one, yet if its owner stood before it and said, \"Table, Table,\nspread yourself,\" it at once became covered with all sorts of good\nthings, meat and wine and everything necessary for a splendid meal.\n\n\"Now I shall never want again,\" the young man said to himself, and he\nwent on journeying merrily, never troubling himself whether his lodging\nwas good or bad, or whether there was anything to eat or not.\n\nSometimes he did not go to an inn at all, but just stopped where he was,\nunder a hedge or in a wood, and there he would put down his table and\ncry, \"Table, Table, spread yourself,\" and then in the twinkle of an eye\nhe had before him as much as he liked to eat and drink.\n\nOne day he made up his mind to turn his steps homeward, as his father's\nanger, he knew, was sure to have died down by then, and they could live\nvery comfortably together with his lucky table. It happened that one\nevening he came to an inn that was full of people, who invited him to\neat in their company.\n\n\"No, not a mouthful, unless you consent to be my guests,\" answered the\nboy.\n\nThe people of course laughed, and thought he was joking; but their mirth\nsoon changed to wonder when he set down his table in their midst, and\nsaw that at his command, \"Table, Table, spread yourself,\" it at once\ncovered itself with all sorts of delicious things, quite as good as the\nhost could have given them, and smelling very tempting to the hungry\nguests.\n\n\"Pray be seated, friends,\" said the Carpenter cheerily; and the people,\nseeing he really meant it, sat down at once and began to ply their\nknives and forks very merrily.\n\nThe thing that surprised them the most was, that whenever they emptied\none dish, another full one always appeared immediately in its place; and\nthe innkeeper, who was looking on, said to himself, \"My friend, you\ncould do very well with such a table as that in your own kitchen\"; but\nhe kept his own counsel. The guests sat up very late that night, but at\nlast they went to bed. The Carpenter lay down, too, with his magic table\nbeside him.\n\nNow the landlord couldn't get to sleep that night at all for thinking\nand wishing, till suddenly he remembered that in the lumber room there\nwas a table that he didn't use, and which was as like the one he coveted\nas two pins. Breathlessly and very cautiously he made his way to the\ngarret and fetched it, and put it beside the lad's bed in place of the\nlucky table, which he carried away and hid in a safe place. The next day\nthe Carpenter paid for his lodging and went on his way, not noticing any\ndifference in the table, which he hoisted on his back. At midday he\nreached his home, and his father was overjoyed to see him.\n\n\"Well, my dear boy,\" said the old man, \"what have you been doing all\nthese months?\"\n\n\"I have been apprenticed to a carpenter,\" answered the lad.\n\n\"And a very good trade, too; and what have you brought home with you?\"\n\n\"The most wonderful thing I ever set eyes on,\" said his son, setting\ndown the table.\n\n\"Uhm! I don't think much of that; it looks a very common piece of\nfurniture,\" said the father, looking at it all around.\n\n\"But,\" cried the boy, \"it is a magic table, and when I say, 'Table,\nTable, spread yourself,' it is at once covered with good things, which\nwill make your mouth water. Invite all our friends in, and you will see\nwhat a feast there will be.\"\n\nWhen the guests had all arrived, he fetched his table, and placing it in\nthe middle of the room, he commanded it to spread itself. But the table\nremained just like any other table, which takes no notice when you speak\nto it; and the poor lad saw at once that somebody had robbed him. Of\ncourse the guests thought he was an impostor and laughed at him, and\nwent home without any feast, to the poor Carpenter's shame. So the\nTailor had to take up his needle again and stitch away as fast as ever,\nand the boy had to leave home again and work for another carpenter.\n\nMeantime, the second son had taken service with a miller, and when he\nhad learned everything, his master said:\n\n\"Because you have worked for me faithfully I will give you this ass,\nwhich, though it can neither draw nor carry, is a clever beast,\nnevertheless.\"\n\n\"What can it do, then?\" said the boy.\n\n\"Why, if you only pat it and cry 'Bricklebit,' gold will drop out of its\nmouth like potatoes into a sack,\" replied the Miller.\n\n\"That is grand,\" said the boy; so, thanking his master, he started on\nhis journey. Now he was rich, for he only had to say \"Bricklebit\" and a\ntorrent of gold pieces came out of the ass's mouth, and were there for\nthe picking up. Wherever he went he ordered the best of everything, and\nthe more he had to pay for it the better he was pleased.\n\nSoon he got tired of wandering about the world and thought he would like\nto go home and see his father, whose anger had, no doubt, died down by\nthis time; or, if not, it certainly would when he saw what a rich ass he\nhad brought home with him.\n\nNow it chanced that he came to the very same inn where his brother had\nlost his table, and when the landlord came out and offered to take the\nanimal to the stable he said: \"No, I will take him myself, for I want to\nsee where he goes.\"\n\nThe landlord was surprised, but thought that one who would look after\nhis own beast must be a poor man. But the boy, putting his hand in his\npocket, drew out two gold pieces, and ordered the best the house\ncontained. The landlord was very much astonished indeed, and ran and\nfetched him the best of everything. When he had eaten his fill the boy\nasked what more he owed, and the landlord, being a greedy man, said that\ntwo more gold pieces would pay the bill. The youth put his hand in his\npocket and found it empty.\n\n\"Wait a moment, my friend, and I will fetch some gold,\" he said\ncarelessly, and picking up the tablecloth, he went out.\n\nThe landlord didn't at all understand what was going on, but being\ninquisitive he crept out after the youth, and as the stable door was\nbolted carefully, the landlord had to glue his eye to a hole in the\nwall. Then he saw the boy spread out the cloth and say \"Bricklebit,\" and\nimmediately gold began to drop out of the ass's mouth in showers, as if\nit were hailing.\n\n\"Thunder and lightning!\" gasped the landlord, running back to the house,\n\"did one ever see the like of this! Why, that is the finest and fattest\npurse I ever set eyes on, and I must see what I can do to obtain it.\"\n\nLater in the evening the lad paid his bill and went to bed; but when he\nwas well asleep, the wicked landlord crept into the stable and took away\nthe ass, and tied up an ordinary one in its stead.\n\nThe next day the youth went on his way with the ass, which he never\nnoticed had been changed, and arrived at midday at his father's house.\nHis father was delighted to see him again, and asked what trade he had\nlearned. The boy told him that he was a miller.\n\n\"And what have you brought home with you?\" said the old man.\n\n\"Only an ass,\" replied the boy.\n\n\"Ah, my lad, you had better have brought a goat. We have asses enough\nabout already.\"\n\n\"Perhaps so,\" retorted the boy; \"but wait till you see what this ass can\ndo. I have only to say 'Bricklebit' and gold drops out of his mouth in\nheaps. Just send for all your friends, and we will make them rich in a\ntrice.\"\n\n\"Indeed,\" said the Tailor, \"that is not a bad idea. If what you say is\ntrue, I shall never need to do any more tailoring,\" and he hurried out\nand gathered all his friends in.\n\nThey arrived in high excitement, as you may be sure, and the youth bade\nthem stand in a circle while he spread out a cloth under the ass's head.\n\n\"Now,\" he said proudly, \"listen to me,\" and he called, \"Bricklebit!\"\n\nBut nothing happened, and it seemed that the ass could not coin gold\nafter all; for it is not an easy thing to do, as you will agree.\n\nThe poor youth was very rueful, for he saw that some one had robbed him,\nand he was obliged to apologize to the guests, who only sneered and\njeered at him and departed as poor as they came.\n\nSo the Tailor had to take up his needle once more and stitch away as\nfast as ever, and the boy had to go and work for another miller.\n\nMeantime, the third son had apprenticed himself to a turner. But it\ntakes a long time to learn to be a turner, and he was still with his\nmaster when his brothers sent a message to tell him how they had fared,\nand all about the wicked landlord who had robbed them of their precious\nbelongings.\n\nTime went on, and soon he had learned everything, and he took leave of\nhis master, who gave him a sack, saying:\n\n\"In the sack lies a stick.\"\n\n\"I will take the sack gladly,\" said the youth, \"for it will be handy.\nBut of what use is the stick, except to make the sack heavier?\"\n\n\"This is the use of the stick: if you want to punish anyone at any time,\nyou have only to say, 'Come forth, Stick!' and the stick will slip out\nof the sack and lay about your enemy's shoulders in such a lively\nfashion that he will be as quiet as a tortoise for days afterwards, and\nit will not cease beating till you say, 'Stop, Stick, and into the\nsack!'\"\n\nThe youth thanked him and went on his way, and when any rogue interfered\nwith him, he only had to cry, \"Come forth, Stick!\" and out it came and\ngave them a sound thrashing, until he told it to stop, and then it\nslipped back so quickly that nobody saw where it went.\n\nOne night he arrived at the very inn where his brothers had been\ndeceived, and putting his sack on the table, he began to boast of all\nthe curious things he had seen.\n\n\"Yes,\" he said, \"I have even known of a table which covers itself with\nfood and wine in a twinkling. But that is not all, for I have seen an\nass which coins gold, and scores of other wonderful things besides. But,\nwhen all is said and done, none have compared with what I carry in my\nsack.\"\n\nThe landlord opened his round eyes, saying:\n\n\"I wonder what it is?\" and he thought to himself: \"The sack must be full\nof precious stones. I must get hold of it, for all good luck runs in\nthrees, and there is no reason why I should not succeed this time as I\nhave done before.\"\n\nAs soon as it was time to go to bed the youth lay down on a bench and\npillowed his head on his sack, and when the landlord thought he was fast\nasleep he came creeping softly to his side and pulled ever so gently at\nthe sack to see if he could exchange it for another which he had all\nready in his hand.\n\nHowever, the boy was only waiting for this, and suddenly he called out,\n\"Come forth, Stick!\" Immediately it sprang out and beat the landlord\nright merrily.\n\nThe landlord howled for mercy, but the Stick only hit the faster, till\nat last the rogue fell down exhausted.\n\n\"Now,\" said the Turner, ordering the stick to return to its bag, \"if you\ndo not deliver up to me the magic table and the lucky ass, the Stick\nshall begin again.\"\n\n\"No, no!\" gasped the wretched man. \"I will give them up if you will only\nspare me!\"\n\n\"I will pardon you if you keep your word,\" said the youth; \"but beware\nif you try to deceive me!\"\n\nEarly next morning the Turner went on his way with the ass and the table\nto his father's house. When he arrived his father was overjoyed to see\nhim, and asked him what trade he had learned.\n\n\"Dear father,\" he said, \"I have become a turner.\"\n\n\"That is a difficult trade. And what have you brought home with you?\"\n\n\"A sack and a stick, and a very valuable stick, too,\" said the son.\n\n\"What!\" cried the old man. \"A stick! Why, you can cut a stick off any\ntree!\"\n\n\"Not a stick like this, for I have only to say, 'Come forth, Stick!' and\nit immediately slips out and lays about the shoulders of anyone who\nwould injure me, so that he has to cry for mercy. By the aid of my stick\nI have got back the magic table and lucky ass which the thief of a\nlandlord stole from my brothers. Now send for them, and call in all your\nfriends, and I will give them a feast and fill their pockets with money\nas well.\"\n\nThe old Tailor could scarcely believe him, but he did as he was told.\nThen the youth spread a cloth on the floor and brought in the ass,\ntelling his brother to speak to it.\n\nThe Miller called out, \"Bricklebit!\" and immediately the gold pieces\nbegan dropping out on to the floor in showers, till they all had as much\nas they could carry.\n\nThen the table was brought in and the Carpenter said, \"Table, be\nspread!\" and at once it was covered with all sorts of dainties. Then\nthey had such a feast as the Tailor had never seen, and they all\nremained till late at night making merry.\n\nThe next day the happy Tailor gathered together all his needles and\nthread and measures and goose and put them away, and he lived happily\nwith his sons forever after.\n\nNow we must see what became of the Goat, whose fault it was that the\nbrothers had been driven away. It was so ashamed of its shaven head that\nit crept into a fox's hole to hide itself. When the Fox came home he saw\ntwo great eyes glittering out of the blackness, and he was so terrified\nthat he ran away. Soon he met a bear, who, noticing how frightened he\nlooked, said:\n\n\"What has happened, Brother Fox, to make you look like that?\"\n\n\"Oh!\" he said, \"in my lair is a fearful monster that rolled flaming eyes\nat me.\"\n\n\"We will soon turn him out,\" said the brave Bear. But when he looked in,\nhe also was terrified at the glittering eyes and took to flight. He soon\nmet a bee, and seeing that it was no good to sting him through his thick\ncoat she said, in friendly fashion:\n\n\"You look very solemn, Mr. Bear. What has come over you?\"\n\n\"Oh!\" said the Bear, \"in Brother Fox's lair is a fearful monster which\nrolls flaming eyes at us, and we daren't drive him out.\"\n\n\"Well, Mr. Bear,\" said the Bee, \"I am sorry for you, and I believe I can\nhelp, though I am such a little creature that nobody thinks I can do any\ngood in the world.\"\n\nSo she flew off to the Fox's lair, and dropping on to his bald head,\nstung him so terribly that the poor Goat rushed out madly, and he has\nnever been heard of since.\n\n\n\n\n_The Little Brother and Sister_\n\n\nTHERE was once a little Brother who took his Sister by the hand and\nsaid: \"Since our own dear mother's death we have not had one happy hour;\nour stepmother beats us every day, and, if we come near her, kicks us\naway with her foot. Our food is the hard crusts of bread which are left,\nand even the dog under the table fares better than we, for he often gets\na nice morsel. Come, let us wander forth into the wide world.\" So the\nwhole day long they traveled over meadows, fields, and stony roads, and\nwhen it rained the Sister said, \"It is Heaven crying in sympathy.\" By\nevening they came into a large forest, and were so wearied with grief,\nhunger, and their long walk that they laid themselves down in a hollow\ntree and went to sleep. When they awoke the next morning the sun had\nalready risen high in the heavens, and its beams made the tree so hot\nthat the little boy said to his Sister, \"I am so thirsty; if I knew\nwhere there was a brook I would go and drink. Ah, I think I hear one\nrunning\"; and so saying he got up, and taking his Sister's hand they\nwent in search of the brook.\n\nThe wicked stepmother, however, was a witch, and had witnessed the\ndeparture of the two children; so sneaking after them secretly, as is\nthe habit of witches, she had enchanted all the springs in the forest.\n\nPresently they found a brook which ran trippingly over the pebbles, and\nthe Brother would have drunk out of it, but the Sister heard how it said\nas it ran along, \"Who drinks of me will become a tiger!\" So the Sister\nexclaimed: \"I pray you, Brother, drink not, or you will become a tiger\nand tear me to pieces!\" So the Brother did not drink, although his\nthirst was so great, and he said, \"I will wait till the next brook.\" As\nthey came to the second the Sister heard it say, \"Who drinks of me\nbecomes a wolf!\" The Sister ran up crying: \"Brother, do not, pray do\nnot, drink, or you will become a wolf and eat me up!\" Then the Brother\ndid not drink, saying: \"I will wait until we come to the next spring,\nbut then I must drink, you may say what you will; my thirst is much too\ngreat.\" Just as they reached the third brook the Sister heard the voice\nsaying: \"Who drinks of me will become a fawn--who drinks of me will\nbecome a fawn!\" So the Sister said: \"Oh, my Brother! do not drink, or\nyou will be changed to a fawn and run away from me!\" But he had already\nkneeled down and drank of the water, and, as the first drops passed his\nlips, his shape became that of a fawn.\n\nAt first the Sister cried over her little changed Brother, and he wept\ntoo, and knelt by her very sorrowful; but at last the maiden said, \"Be\nstill, dear little Fawn, and I will never forsake you\"; and, undoing her\ngolden garter, she put it around his neck, and weaving rushes made a\nwhite girdle to lead him with. This she tied to him, and, taking the\nother end in her hand she led him away, and they traveled deeper and\ndeeper into the forest. After they had walked a long distance they came\nto a little hut, and the maiden, peeping in, found it empty, and\nthought, \"Here we can stay and dwell.\" Then she looked for leaves and\nmoss to make a soft couch for the Fawn, and every morning she went out\nand collected roots and berries and nuts for herself and tender grass\nfor the Fawn, which he ate out of her hand, and played happily around\nher. In the evening, when the Sister was tired and had said her prayers,\nshe laid her head upon the back of the Fawn, which served for a pillow,\non which she slept soundly. Had but the Brother regained his own proper\nform, their life would have been happy indeed.\n\nThus they dwelt in this wilderness, and some time had elapsed, when it\nhappened that the King of the country held a great hunt in the forest;\nand now resounded through the trees the blowing of horns, the barking of\ndogs, and the lusty cries of the hunters, so that the little Fawn heard\nthem and wanted very much to join. \"Ah!\" said he to his Sister, \"let me\ngo to the hunt, I cannot restrain myself any longer\"; and he begged so\nhard that at last she consented. \"But,\" said she to him, \"return again\nin the evening, for I shall shut my door against the wild huntsmen,\nand, that I may know you, do you knock and say, 'Sister, let me in,' and\nif you do not speak I shall not open the door.\" As soon as she had said\nthis, the little Fawn sprang off, quite glad and merry in the fresh\nbreeze. The King and his huntsmen perceived the beautiful animal, and\npursued him; but they could not catch him, and when they thought they\nhad him for certain he sprang away over the bushes and got out of sight.\nJust as it was getting dark he ran up to the hut, and, knocking, said,\n\"Sister mine, let me in.\" Then she undid the little door, and he went in\nand rested all night long upon his soft couch. The next morning the hunt\nwas commenced again, and as soon as the little Fawn heard the horns and\nthe tallyho of the sportsmen he could not rest, and said, \"Sister, dear,\nopen the door, I must be off.\" The Sister opened it, saying, \"Return at\nevening, mind, and say the words as before.\" When the King and his\nhuntsmen saw again the Fawn with the golden necklace, they followed him\nclosely, but he was too nimble and quick for them. The whole day long\nthey kept up with him, but toward evening the huntsmen made a circle\naround him, and one wounded him slightly in the hind foot, so that he\ncould only run slowly. Then one of them slipped after him to the little\nhut, and heard him say, \"Sister, dear, open the door,\" and saw that the\ndoor was opened and immediately shut behind. The huntsman, having\nobserved all this, went and told the King what he had seen and heard,\nand he said, \"On the morrow I will once more pursue him.\"\n\nThe Sister, however, was terribly frightened when she saw that her Fawn\nwas wounded, and washing off the blood she put herbs upon the foot and\nsaid: \"Go and rest upon your bed, dear Fawn, that the wound may heal.\"\nIt was so slight that the next morning he felt nothing of it, and when\nhe heard the hunting cries outside he exclaimed: \"I cannot stop away--I\nmust be there, and none shall catch me so easily again!\" The Sister wept\nvery much and told him: \"Soon they will kill you, and I shall be here\nall alone in this forest, forsaken by all the world. I cannot let you\ngo.\"\n\n\"I shall die here in vexation,\" answered the Fawn, \"if you do not, for\nwhen I hear the horn I think I shall jump out of my skin.\" The Sister,\nfinding she could not prevent him, opened the door with a heavy heart,\nand the Fawn jumped out, quite delighted, into the forest. As soon as\nthe King perceived him he said to his huntsmen: \"Follow him all day long\ntill the evening, but let no one do him an injury.\" When the sun had\nset, the King asked his huntsmen to show him the hut; and as they came\nto it, he knocked at the door and said, \"Let me in, dear Sister.\" Then\nthe door was opened, and stepping in the King saw a maiden more\nbeautiful than he had ever before seen. She was frightened when she saw\nnot her Fawn, but a man step in who had a golden crown upon his head.\nBut the King, looking at her with a friendly glance, reached her his\nhand, saying, \"Will you go with me to my castle and be my dear wife?\"\n\"Oh, yes,\" replied the maiden; \"but the Fawn must go too; him I will\nnever forsake.\" The King replied: \"He shall remain with you as long as\nyou live, and shall want for nothing.\" In the meantime the Fawn had come\nin, and the Sister, binding the girdle to him, again took it in her\nhand, and led him away with her out of the hut.\n\nThe King took the beautiful maiden upon his horse, and rode to his\ncastle, where the wedding was celebrated with great splendor, and she\nbecame Queen, and they lived together a long time; while the Fawn was\ntaken care of and lived well, playing about the castle garden. The\nwicked stepmother, however, on whose account the children had wandered\nforth into the world, supposed that long ago the Sister had been torn in\npieces by the wild beasts, and the little Brother hunted to death in his\nFawn's shape by the hunters. As soon, therefore, as she heard how happy\nthey had become, and how everything prospered with them, envy and\njealousy were roused in her heart and left her no peace, and she was\nalways thinking in what way she could work misfortune to them. Her own\ndaughter, who was as ugly as night and had but one eye, for which she\nwas continually reproached, said, \"The luck of being a queen has never\nyet happened to me.\"\n\n\"Be quiet now,\" said the old woman, \"and make yourself contented. When\nthe time comes, I shall be at hand.\" As soon, then, as the time came\nwhen the Queen brought into the world a beautiful little boy, which\nhappened when the King was out hunting, the old witch took the form of a\nchambermaid, and got into the room where the Queen was lying, and said\nto her: \"The bath is ready which will restore you and give you fresh\nstrength; be quick, before it gets cold.\" Her daughter being at hand,\nthey carried the weak Queen between them into the room, and laid her in\nthe bath, and then, shutting the door, they ran off; but first they had\nmade an immense fire in the stove, which must soon suffocate the young\nQueen.\n\nWhen this was done the old woman took her daughter, and putting a cap on\nher, laid her in the bed in the Queen's place. She gave her, too, the\nform and appearance of the real Queen as far as she could; but she could\nnot restore the lost eye, and so that the King might not notice it, she\nturned upon that side where there was no eye. When he came home at\nevening and heard that a son was born to him, he was much delighted, and\nprepared to go to his wife's bedside to see how she did. So the old\nwoman called out in a great hurry: \"For your life, do not undraw the\ncurtains; the Queen must not yet see the light, and must be kept quiet.\"\nSo the King went away, and did not discover that a false Queen was laid\nin the bed.\n\nWhen midnight came and everyone was asleep, the nurse, who sat by\nherself, wide awake, near the cradle in the nursery, saw the door open\nand the true Queen come in. She took the child in her arms and rocked it\nawhile, and then, shaking up its pillow, laid it down in its cradle and\ncovered it over again. She did not forget the Fawn either, but going to\nthe corner where he was, stroked his back, and then went silently out at\nthe door. The nurse asked in the morning of the guards if anyone had\npassed into the castle during the night, but they answered, \"No, we have\nseen nobody.\" For many nights afterwards she came constantly, and never\nspoke a word; and the nurse saw her always, but she would not trust\nherself to speak about it to anyone.\n\nWhen some time had passed away, the Queen one night began to speak, and\nsaid:\n\n \"How fares my child, how fares my Fawn?\n Twice more will I come, but never again.\"\n\nThe nurse made no reply; but, when she had disappeared, went to the King\nand told him all. The King exclaimed: \"Oh, heavens! what does this mean?\nThe next night I will watch myself by the child.\" In the evening he went\ninto the nursery, and about midnight the Queen appeared and said:\n\n \"How fares my child, how fares my Fawn?\n Once more will I come, but never again.\"\n\nAnd she nursed the child as she was used to do, and then disappeared.\nThe King dared not speak, but he watched the following night, and this\ntime she said:\n\n \"How fares my child, how fares my Fawn?\n This time have I come, but never again.\"\n\nAt these words the King could hold back no longer, but sprang up and\nsaid, \"You can be no other than my dear wife!\" Then she answered, \"Yes,\nI am your dear wife\"; and at that moment her life was restored by God's\nmercy, and she was again as beautiful and charming as ever. She told the\nKing the fraud which the witch and her daughter had practiced upon him,\nand he had them both tried and sentence pronounced against them. The\ndaughter was taken into the forest, where the wild beasts tore her in\npieces, but the old witch was led to the fire and miserably burned. And\nas soon as she was reduced to ashes the little Fawn was unbewitched, and\nreceived again his human form; and the Brother and Sister lived happily\ntogether to the end of their days.\n\n\n\n\n_The Old Griffin_\n\n\nTHERE was once a king, but where he reigned and how he was called I know\nnothing about. He had no son, only a daughter, who was always ill, and\nno doctor could cure her; but it was prophesied to the King that his\ndaughter would eat herself well with an apple. So he made it known all\nover the kingdom that whoever brought his daughter some apples with\nwhich she could eat herself well should marry her and be King. Now a\npeasant who had three sons heard of it; and he said to the eldest: \"Go\nto the garden, take a basketful of those beautiful apples with the red\ncheeks, and carry them to the court. Perhaps the King's daughter will be\nable to eat herself well with them, and then you can marry her and be\nKing.\" The chap did as he was bid and took to the road. When he had\nwalked a little while he met quite a little iron man, who asked him what\nhe had in his basket. So Hele, for that was his name, said, \"Frogs'\nlegs!\" The Little Man then said, \"Well, so it shall be and remain\"; and\nthen went on. At last Hele came to the castle, and had it announced that\nhe had some apples which would cure the Princess if she ate them. At\nthat the King was mightily pleased, and received Hele in court. Oh,\ndear! when he opened it, instead of apples he had frogs' legs in the\nbasket, and they were kicking about still. The King flew into a great\nrage, and had him kicked out of the castle. When he got home he told his\nfather how he had fared. Then the father sent his next son, whose name\nwas Saeme, but it went just the same with him as with Hele. The little\nIron Man met him very soon, and asked him what he had in the basket, and\nSaeme said, \"Sow-thistles\"; and the Little Man said, \"Well, so it shall\nbe and remain.\" When he arrived at the King's castle, and said he had\napples with which the King's daughter could eat herself well, they would\nnot let him in, and told him there had already been one who had made\nfools of them. But Saeme insisted he had really such apples; they should\nonly let him in. At last they believed him and took him before the\nKing; but when he opened the basket he had nothing but sow-thistles.\nThat annoyed the King most dreadfully, so that he had Saeme whipped out\nof the castle. When he got home he told them what had happened to him,\nand then came the youngest boy, whom they had always called Stupid Jack,\nand asked the father whether he, too, might go with apples. \"Yes,\" said\nthe father, \"you are just the right sort of fellow; if the clever ones\ncan't succeed, what will you be able to do?\" The boy did not believe it.\n\"Well, father, I will go too.\" \"Get away, you stupid chap!\" said the\nfather; \"you must wait till you grow wiser\"; and then he turned his back\nupon him; but the boy tugged at his smock frock behind and said, \"Now,\nfather, I will go too.\" \"Well, just as you like; go--you will be sure to\ncome back,\" he answered in a spiteful way. The boy was beyond measure\ndelighted, and jumped for joy. \"Aye, there! act like a fool! You get\nstupider from one day to the next,\" said the father. That did not affect\nJack a bit, who would not be disturbed in his joy. As night soon came\non, he thought he would wait till the next morning; anyhow, he would not\nbe able to get to court that day. He could not sleep that night in bed,\nand when he only slumbered a little he dreamed of beautiful maidens, of\ncastles, gold, silver, and all that sort of thing. Early next morning he\nwent his way, and soon the Little Man in his iron dress met him and\nasked him what he had in the basket. \"Apples,\" he answered, \"with which\nthe King's daughter can eat herself well.\" \"Well,\" said the Little Man,\n\"such it shall be and remain.\" But at court they would not let Jack in\nat all; for that there had been two who had said they brought apples,\nand one had frogs' legs and the other sow-thistles. But Jack insisted\ntremendously he had no frogs' legs, but the most beautiful apples that\ngrew in the kingdom. As he spoke so nicely the doorkeeper thought he\ncould not be telling a lie, and let him in; and they did quite right,\ntoo, for when Jack uncovered the basket before the King, apples as\nyellow as gold came tumbling out. The King was delighted, and had some\nof them taken to his daughter at once, and waited in anxious\nexpectation until they should bring him word what effect they had. Not\nlong after news was brought him; but what think you it was? It was the\ndaughter herself! As soon as she had eaten of those apples she had\njumped out of bed quite well. What the King's delight was cannot be\ndescribed.\n\nBut now the King would not give Jack his daughter to marry, and said\nthat he must first make him a boat that would swim better on land than\nin the water. Jack agreed to the condition and went home and told his\nadventures. So the father sent Hele into the wood to make such a boat;\nhe worked away diligently, and whistled the while. At midday, when the\nsun was at the highest, came the little Iron Man and asked what he was\nmaking. \"Wooden bowls,\" answered he. The Little Man answered, \"Well, so\nit shall be and remain.\" In the evening Hele thought he had made the\nboat, but when he was going to get into it, it turned to wooden bowls.\nThe next day Saeme went into the wood, but he met with exactly the same\nfate as his brother. On the third day Stupid Jack went. He worked very\nhard, so that the wood resounded all through with his heavy blows, and\nhe sang and whistled besides right merrily. The Little Man came to him\nat midday when it was very warm, and asked him what he was making. \"A\nboat that will swim better on dry land than in the water,\" he answered,\n\"and that when he had done it he should marry the King's daughter.\"\n\"Well,\" said the Little Man, \"such an one it shall be and remain.\" In\nthe evening when the sun was setting like a ball of gold, Jack made\nready his boat and all things belonging to it, and rowed toward the\ncastle; but the boat went as fast as the wind. The King saw it a long\nway off, but would not give Jack his daughter yet, and said he must\nfirst take a hundred hares out grazing from early morning to late in the\nevening, and if one were missing he should not have his daughter. Jack\nwas quite contented, and the next day went out with his herd to the\nmeadow, and kept a sharp lookout that none should stray away. Not many\nhours had passed when a maid came from the castle, and said Jack was to\ngive her a hare directly, as some visitors had arrived. But Jack saw\nthrough that well enough, and said he would not give her one; the King\nmight treat his visitors to hare pepper. But the maid would not heed\nhim, and at last set to scolding. So Jack said that if the King's\ndaughter came herself he would give her a hare. The maid told them in\nthe castle, and the King's daughter did go herself. But in the meantime\nthe Little Man had come again to Jack and asked him what he was doing\nthere. Oh, he had to watch a hundred hares so that none ran away, and\nthen he might marry the King's daughter and be King. \"Good!\" said the\nLittle Man, \"there's a whistle for you, and when one runs away, only\njust whistle and he will come back again.\" When the King's daughter\ncame, Jack put a hare into her apron, but when she had gone about a\nhundred steps off, Jack whistled, and the hare jumped out of the cloth,\nand jump, jump! was back to the herd directly. In the evening the\nhareherd whistled again, and looked to see they were all right, and\ndrove them to the castle. The King wondered how Jack had been able to\ntake care of a hundred hares, so that none should run off, but he would\nnot yet give him his daughter so easily, but said he must first get him\na feather from the Old Griffin's tail.\n\nJack started at once, and marched right briskly on. In the evening he\narrived at a castle, where he asked for a night's lodging, for at that\ntime there were no such things as hotels; and the master of the castle\ngreeted him very civilly, and asked him where he was going to. Jack\nanswered, \"To the Old Griffin.\" \"Oh, indeed! to the Old Griffin; they\nsay he knows everything, and I have lost the key to an iron money chest;\nperhaps you would be good enough to ask him where it is!\" \"Certainly,\"\nsaid Jack, \"that I will.\" Early the next morning he started off again on\nhis road, and arrived at another castle, where he again passed the\nnight. When the people learned that he was going to the Old Griffin,\nthey said a daughter was ill in the house; they had already tried every\npossible remedy, but without effect; would he be kind enough to ask Old\nGriffin what would cure her? Jack said he would do it with pleasure, and\nwent on again. He arrived at a lake, and instead of a ferryboat there\nwas a big man who had to carry everybody over. The man asked him where\nhe was bound for? \"To the Old Griffin,\" said Jack. \"When you get to\nhim,\" said the man, \"just ask him why I am obliged to carry everybody\nover the water.\" \"Yes, to be sure,\" said Jack; \"goodness gracious! yes,\nwillingly!\" The man then took him up on his shoulder and carried him\nover. At last Jack arrived at the Old Griffin's house, and only found\nthe wife at home, not Old Griffin. The woman asked him what he wanted,\nso he told her he must have a feather from Old Griffin's tail; and that\nin a castle they had lost the key to the money chest, and he was to ask\nthe Griffin where it was; and then, in another castle, the daughter was\nill, and he was to know what would make her well again; then not far\nfrom there were the water and the man who was obliged to carry everybody\nover, and he should very much like to know why the man was obliged to\ncarry everybody over. \"But,\" said the woman, \"look you, my good friend,\nno Christian can speak with a Griffin; he eats them all up; but, if you\nlike, you can lie there under his bed, and at night when he is fast\nasleep you can reach up and pull a feather out of his tail; and as to\nthose things that you want to know, I will ask him myself.\" Jack was\nquite satisfied with the arrangement, and got under the bed. In the\nevening Old Griffin came home, and when he stepped into the room he\nsaid, \"Wife, I smell a Christian!\" \"Yes,\" said the wife, \"there has been\none here to-day, but he went away again.\" So Old Griffin said no more.\nIn the middle of the night, when Griffin was snoring away lustily, Jack\nreached up and pulled a feather out of his tail. The Griffin jumped up\nsuddenly and cried: \"Wife, I smell a Christian! and it was just as if\nsome one had been plucking at my tail.\" The wife said: \"You have no\ndoubt been dreaming. I have told you already that one has been here\nto-day, but that he went away again. He told me all sorts of things;\nthat in one castle they had lost the key of the money chest and could\nnot find it.\" \"Oh, the fools!\" exclaimed the Griffin; \"the key lies in\nthe wood-shed, behind the door, under a log of wood.\" \"And further, he\nsaid that in another castle the daughter was ill, and they knew no means\nto cure her.\" \"Oh, the fools!\" said the Griffin, \"under the cellar\nstairs a toad has made its nest of her hair, and if she got the hair\nback again she would be well.\" \"And then, again, he said at a certain\nplace there was a lake, and a man who was obliged to carry everybody\nover.\" \"Oh, the fool!\" said the Old Griffin, \"if he were only to put\nsomebody into the middle he need not carry any more over.\"\n\n[Illustration: \"IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, WHEN GRIFFIN WAS SNORING\nAWAY LUSTILY, JACK REACHED UP AND PULLED A FEATHER OUT OF HIS TAIL\"]\n\nEarly next morning the Old Griffin got up and went out, and Jack crept\nfrom under the bed with a beautiful feather, having heard what the\nGriffin had said about the key, the daughter, and the man. The wife\nrepeated it all to him so that he should not forget, and then he started\noff toward home. He came to the man at the water first, and he asked him\ndirectly what the Griffin had said; but Jack said he must carry him over\nfirst, and then he would tell him. So he carried him over, and when they\ngot there Jack told him he had only to put somebody into the middle and\nthen he need carry no more. The man was delighted beyond measure, and\ntold Jack that out of gratitude he should like to carry him over and\nback once more. But Jack said nay, he would save him the trouble; he was\nquite contented with him already, and then went on. Next he arrived at\nthe castle where the daughter was ill; he took her on his shoulder, for\nshe was not able to walk, and carried her down the cellar stairs, and\nthen took the toad's nest from under the bottom step and put it into the\ndaughter's hand, and all at once she jumped off his shoulder, up the\nstairs before him, strong and well. Now the father and mother were\ndelighted indeed, and made Jack presents of gold and silver, and\nwhatever he wanted they gave him.\n\nWhen Jack arrived at the other castle he went straight to the wood-shed,\nand found the key right behind the door under the log of wood, and took\nit to the master. He was not a little pleased, and gave Jack in return a\ngreat deal of gold that was in the box and all sorts of things besides,\nsuch as cows and sheep and goats.\n\nWhen Jack returned to the King with all these things, with the money and\ngold and silver, and the cows, sheep, and goats, the King asked him how\nhe had come by it all. So Jack said the Old Griffin would give one as\nmuch as one liked. The King thought he could find a use for that kind of\ngifts himself, and so started off to the Griffin; but when he got to the\nwater he happened to be the first who had crossed over since Jack, and\nthe man put him in the middle of the stream and walked off, and the King\nwas drowned.\n\nSo Jack married the King's daughter and became King.\n\n\n\n\n_The Three Feathers_\n\n\nONCE upon a time there lived a king who had three sons, two of whom were\nbright youths, but the youngest never had anything to say for himself,\nso he was set down by everyone as a simpleton.\n\nYears went on, and the King felt himself growing old, and he thought it\nwas time to decide which of his sons was to succeed him.\n\nThis was not so easy, so he told the youths that whoever should bring\nhim the most beautiful carpet should be his heir, and, lest they should\nall want to go in the same direction and quarrel, he went up to the roof\nof the palace and blew three feathers up into the air, saying:\n\n\"As they fly, thither shall you follow.\"\n\nOne feather flew east, another west, and the third went in a straight\nline between the two for a little way, and then fell suddenly to the\nground. So one brother went east, and another west, and poor Dummling\nwas left to follow the third feather, which had gone no distance at all,\nwhereat his brothers were much amused.\n\nDummling sat down beside his feather, feeling very sad and doleful, and\nhe was just thinking that all chance of the kingdom was at an end for\nhim, when he discovered that all the time he was staring at a trapdoor\nin the ground. He lifted it, and found steps leading down into the\nearth, so he went down the stairs till he came to a door, and then he\nknocked.\n\nImmediately he heard a voice singing:\n\n \"Little frog, so green and cold,\n I prithee open and behold\n Who it is that knocks so bold,\"\n\nand the door opened, and he saw a large frog squatting in the middle of\na circle of little ones. The big one bowed to him as he entered, and\nasked him what he sought.\n\n\"Please,\" said Dummling, taking off his cap and returning the bow, \"I\nwant to know if you can help me to get the most beautiful carpet in the\nworld.\"\n\nThe Frog rolled her eyes for a minute, and then, turning to one of the\nlittle ones at her side, said:\n\n\"Go bring me hither the big casket,\" and the little frog hopped away,\nand came back dragging a large box.\n\nThen the mother Frog took a key that hung around her neck on a chain,\nand opened the box and drew forth the most beautiful carpet that was\never seen.\n\nDummling was delighted with it, and thanking her very heartily, he\nhurried up the steps, eager to take it to the palace.\n\nMeanwhile, the two brothers, never thinking that Dummling was clever\nenough to find any sort of carpet at all, said to each other:\n\n\"Let us buy the shawl of the first peasant woman we meet. That should be\ngood enough to win us the kingdom.\"\n\nSo they bought a common old shawl at the first opportunity, and took it\nhome to the palace, arriving just at the same moment as Dummling.\n\nThe King was astonished when the carpets were spread out before him and\nhe saw the lovely thing Dummling had brought.\n\n[Illustration: \"THEN DUMMLING'S LOVELY MAIDEN SPRANG LIGHTLY AND\nGRACEFULLY THROUGH THE RING\"]\n\n\"The prize,\" said he, \"should by rights belong to my youngest son.\"\n\nBut the others were so angry at this, and worried their father so much,\nthat for very peace he had to consent to a new test.\n\nSo the King gave out that whoever should bring him the most beautiful\nring should be King when he died, and he blew up the feathers as before,\nand bade the youths follow them.\n\nThe two eldest went east and west, but Dummling's feather did as it did\nthe first time, and fell to earth just by the trapdoor. So he pulled it\nup once again and went down the steps.\n\nWhen the door was opened, he told the big Frog that he wanted the most\nbeautiful ring in the world. So she sent one of her little attendants\nhopping for her jewel casket, and, when it was come, she took out of it\na ring that fairly blazed with diamonds and other jewels, and finer than\nthe finest workmanship that could be obtained. You may imagine Dummling\nthanked her very warmly for the ring, and hurried off back to the palace\nas fast as his legs could carry him. He found his brothers had just\narrived with rings they had taken no more pains to make than to beat two\nrusty nails into circlets. As soon as the King saw Dummling's lovely\njewel, he cried out:\n\n\"The kingdom belongs to him.\"\n\nBut the brothers again flew into a passion at this, and said that a\nyouth who had as little wit as Dummling could not possibly reign over\nthe land. So they worried the father at last to make just one more\ncondition; and this time he said that whoever should bring home the most\nbeautiful woman in the world should succeed to the throne. A third time\nhe blew the feathers into the air, and the youths set out after them.\n\nDummling's feather floated and fell just as before, and again he pulled\nup his trapdoor and went down into the presence of the old Frog, and\ntold her that this time he wanted the most beautiful maiden in all the\nworld.\n\n\"Hum!\" said the Frog, \"it is not everyone who gets that; still I will do\nmy best for you, nevertheless. But first take this,\" and she gave\nDummling a little toy cart made of a hollow carrot, to which were\nharnessed six beautiful white mice.\n\nThe youth looked at this rather doubtfully, and asked the mother Frog\nwhat he was to do with it.\n\n\"I will tell you,\" she said. \"Take one of my little frog attendants and\nset her on the carrot.\"\n\nSo Dummling picked up the one that happened to be nearest him and put\nher on the carrot, and lo and behold! no sooner was she seated than she\nchanged into a beautiful maiden, and the carrot and the mice into a\ngrand chariot drawn by six prancing horses. As soon as he could stop\nrubbing his eyes from wonder, Dummling kissed the maiden, and drove off\nin triumph to the palace.\n\nMeanwhile, the brothers, as usual, had taken no trouble whatever, and at\nthe moment Dummling drove up in his glory they appeared with two peasant\ngirls, who were not even pretty.\n\nOf course the King had nothing for it but to award the kingdom to his\nyoungest son, and, of course, the elder brothers still grumbled, and\nmade such a fuss that at last the poor King had to consent to yet\nanother trial.\n\nTo prove which was the best wife of the three, he decided that they\nshould all jump through a hoop in the hall, and the one who did it most\nprettily was to be the winner.\n\nAnd now all the court was gathered together in the hall to see the\ncontest. The country girls jumped, but were so plump that they fell\nheavily and broke their arms and legs. Then Dummling's lovely maiden\nsprang lightly and gracefully through the ring, and landed safely on the\nother side.\n\nSo at last the brothers had to be content, and in time Dummling came to\nthe throne and ruled wisely and well for many, many years.\n\n\n\n\n_The House in the Wood_\n\n\nTHERE was once a poor Woodcutter who lived with his Wife and three\nDaughters in a little hut on the edge of a large forest. One morning,\nwhen he went out to his usual work, he said to his Wife: \"Let my dinner\nbe brought by our eldest Daughter, I shall not be ready to come home;\nand that she may not lose her way, I will take with me a bag of seeds\nand strew them on my path.\"\n\nSo when the sun was risen to the center of the heavens, the Maiden set\nout on her way, carrying a jug of soup. But the field and wood sparrows,\nthe larks, blackbirds, goldfinches, and greenfinches, had many hours ago\npicked up the seeds, so that the Maiden could find no trace of the way.\nSo she walked on, trusting to fortune, till the sun set and night came\non. The trees soon began to rustle in the darkness, the owls to hoot,\nand the girl began to feel frightened. All at once she perceived a light\nshining at a distance among the trees. \"People must dwell there,\" she\nthought, \"who will keep me during the night\"; and she walked toward the\nlight. In a short time she came to a cottage where the windows were all\nlighted up, and when she knocked at the door a hoarse voice called from\nwithin, \"Come in.\" The girl opened the door and perceived a hoary Old\nMan sitting at a table with his face buried in his hands, and his white\nbeard flowing down over the table on to the ground. On the hearth lay\nthree animals--a hen, a cock, and a brindled cow. The girl told the Old\nMan her adventures, and begged for a night's lodging. The Man said:\n\n \"Pretty Hen, pretty Cock,\n And pretty brindled Cow,\n What have you to say to that?\"\n\n\"Cluck!\" said the animals, and as that meant they were satisfied, the\nOld Man said to the Maiden: \"Here is abundance, and to spare; go now\ninto the kitchen and cook some supper for us.\"\n\nThe girl found plenty of everything in the kitchen, and cooked a good\nmeal, but thought nothing about the animals. When she had finished she\ncarried a full dish into the room, and, sitting down opposite the Old\nMan, ate till she had satisfied her hunger. When she had done she said:\n\"I am very tired; where is my bed, where I shall lie down and sleep?\"\nThe animals replied:\n\n \"You have eaten with him,\n You have drunk, too, with him;\n And yet you have not thought of us;\n Still you may pass the night here.\"\n\nThereupon the Old Man said: \"Step down yon stair, and you will come to a\nroom containing two beds, shake them up and cover them with white\nsheets, and then I will come and lie down to sleep myself.\" The Maiden\nstepped down the stair, and as soon as she had shaken up the beds and\ncovered them afresh, she laid herself down in one bed, without waiting\nfor the Old Man. But after some time the Old Man came, and, after\nlooking at the girl with the light, shook his head when he saw she was\nfast asleep; and then, opening a trapdoor, dropped her down into the\ncellar below.\n\nLate in the evening the Woodcutter arrived at home, and scolded his Wife\nbecause she had let him hunger all day long. \"It is not my fault,\" she\nreplied; \"the girl was sent out with your dinner; she must have lost her\nway; but to-morrow she will return, no doubt.\" At daybreak the\nWoodcutter got up to go into the forest, and desired that the second\nDaughter should bring him his meal this time. \"I will take a bag of\npeas,\" he said; \"they are larger than corn seed, and the girl will\ntherefore see them better and not lose my track.\" At noonday,\naccordingly, the girl set out with her father's dinner; but the peas had\nall disappeared, for the wood birds had picked them all up as they had\non the day before, and not one was left. So the poor girl wandered about\nin the forest till it was quite dark, and then she also arrived at the\nOld Man's hut, was invited in, and begged food and a night's lodging.\nThe Man of the white beard asked his animals again:\n\n \"Pretty Hen, and pretty Cock,\n And pretty brindled Cow,\n What have you to say to that?\"\n\nThey answered again, \"Cluck!\" and everything thereupon occurred the same\nas on the previous day. The girl cooked a good meal, ate and drank with\nthe Old Man, but never once thought of the animals; and when she asked\nfor her bed, they made answer:\n\n \"You have eaten with him,\n You have drunk, too, with him;\n And yet you have not thought of us;\n Still you may pass the night here!\"\n\nAs soon as she was gone to sleep the Old Man came, and, after looking at\nher and shaking his head as before, dropped her into the cellar below.\n\nMeanwhile the third morning arrived, and the Woodcutter told his Wife to\nsend their youngest child with his dinner: \"For,\" said he, \"she is\nalways obedient and good; she will keep in the right path and not run\nabout like those idle hussies, her sisters!\"\n\nBut the Mother refused, and said: \"Shall I lose my youngest child too?\"\n\n\"Be not afraid of that,\" said her husband; \"the girl will not miss her\nway, she is too steady and prudent; but for more precaution I will take\nbeans to strew, they are larger still than peas, and will show her the\nway better.\"\n\nBut by and by, when the girl went out with her basket on her arm, the\nwood pigeons had eaten up all the beans, and she knew not which way to\nturn. She was full of trouble, and thought with grief how her Father\nwould want his dinner and how her dear Mother would grieve when she did\nnot return. At length, when it became quite dark, she also perceived\nthe lighted cottage, and entering it, begged very politely to be allowed\nto pass the night there. The Old Man asked the animals a third time in\nthe same words:\n\n \"Pretty Hen, pretty Cock,\n And pretty brindled Cow,\n What have you to say to that?\"\n\n\"Cluck, cluck!\" said they. Thereupon the Maiden stepped up to the fire,\nnear which they lay, and fondled the pretty Hen and Cock, smoothing\ntheir plumage down with her hands, while she stroked the Cow between her\nhorns. Afterwards, when she had got ready a good supper at the Old Man's\nrequest, and had placed the dishes on the table, she thought to herself:\n\"I must not appease my hunger till I have fed these good creatures.\nThere is an abundance in the kitchen, I will serve them first.\" Thus\nthinking she went and fetched some corn and strewed it before the fowls,\nand then she brought an armful of hay and gave it to the Cow. \"Now, eat\naway, you good creatures,\" said she to them, \"and when you are thirsty\nyou shall have a nice fresh draught.\" So saying she brought in a pailful\nof water; and the Hen and Cock perched themselves on its edge, put their\nbeaks in, and then drew their heads up as birds do when drinking; the\nCow also took a hearty draught. When the animals were thus fed, the\nMaiden sat down at table with the Old Man and ate what was left for her.\nIn a short while the Hen and Cock began to fold their wings over their\nheads, and the brindled Cow blinked with both eyes. Then the Maiden\nasked: \"Shall we not also take our rest?\" The Old Man replied as before:\n\n \"Pretty Hen, pretty Cock,\n And pretty brindled Cow,\n What have you to say to that?\"\n\n\"Cluck, cluck!\" replied the animals, meaning:\n\n \"You have eaten with us,\n You have drunk, too, with us,\n You have thought of us kindly, too;\n And we wish you a good night's rest.\"\n\nSo the Maiden went down the stairs, and shook up the feather beds and\nlaid on clean sheets, and when they were ready the Old Man came and lay\ndown in one, with his white beard stretching down to his feet. The girl\nthen lay down in the other bed, first saying her prayers before she went\nto sleep.\n\nShe slept quietly till midnight, and at that hour there began such a\ntumult in the house that it awakened her. Presently it began to crack\nand rumble in every corner of the room, and the doors were slammed back\nagainst the wall, and then the beams groaned as if they were being riven\naway from their fastenings, and the stairs fell down, and at last it\nseemed as if the whole roof fell in. Soon after that all was quiet, but\nthe Maiden took no harm, and went quietly off again to sleep. When,\nhowever the bright light of the morning sun awoke her, what a sight met\nher eyes! She found herself lying in a large chamber, with everything\naround belonging to regal pomp. On the walls were represented gold\nflowers growing on a green silk ground; the bed was of ivory, and the\ncurtains of red velvet, and on a stool close by was placed a pair of\nslippers ornamented with pearls. The Maiden thought it was all a dream;\nbut presently in came three servants dressed in rich liveries, who asked\nher what were her commands. \"Leave me,\" replied the Maiden; \"I will get\nup at once and cook some breakfast for the Old Man, and also feed the\npretty Hen, the pretty Cock, and the brindled Cow.\" She spoke thus\nbecause she thought the Old Man was already up; but when she looked\nround at his bed, she saw a stranger to her lying asleep in it. While\nshe was looking at him, and saw that he was both young and handsome, he\nawoke, and starting up, said to the Maiden: \"I am a king's son, who was\nlong ago changed by a wicked old witch into the form of an old man, and\ncondemned to live alone in the wood, with nobody to bear me company but\nmy three servants in the form of a hen, a cock, and a brindled cow. And\nthe enchantment was not to end until a maiden should come so\nkind-hearted that she should behave as well to my animals as she did to\nme; and such a one you have been; and, therefore, this last midnight we\nwere saved through you, and the old wooden hut has again become my royal\npalace.\"\n\nWhen he had thus spoken the girl and he arose, and the Prince told his\nthree servants to fetch to the palace the Father and Mother of the\nMaiden, that they might witness her marriage.\n\n\"But where are my two Sisters?\" she asked. \"I have put them in the\ncellar,\" replied the Prince, \"and there they must remain till to-morrow\nmorning, when they shall be led into the forest, and bound as servants\nto a collier, until they have reformed their tempers, and learned not to\nlet poor animals suffer hunger.\"\n\n\n\n\n_Rapunzel_\n\n\nTHERE was once a man and his wife who had long wished in vain for a\nchild, when at last they had reason to hope that Heaven would grant\ntheir wish. There was a little window at the back of their house, which\noverlooked a beautiful garden, full of lovely flowers and shrubs. It\nwas, however, surrounded by a high wall, and nobody dared to enter it,\nbecause it belonged to a powerful witch, who was feared by everyone.\n\nOne day the woman, standing at this window and looking into the garden,\nsaw a bed planted with beautiful corn salad. It looked so fresh and\ngreen that it made her long to eat some of it. This longing increased\nevery day, and as she knew it could never be satisfied, she began to\nlook pale and miserable, and to pine away. Then her husband became\nalarmed, and said: \"What ails you, my dear wife?\"\n\n\"Alas!\" she answered, \"if I cannot get any of the corn salad from the\ngarden behind our house to eat, I shall die.\"\n\nHer husband, who loved her, thought: \"Before you let your wife die, you\nmust fetch her some of that corn salad, cost what it may.\" So in the\ntwilight he climbed over the wall into the Witch's garden, hastily\npicked a handful of corn salad, and took it back to his wife. She\nimmediately dressed it, and ate it up very eagerly. It was so very, very\nnice that the next day her longing for it increased threefold. She could\nhave no peace unless her husband fetched her some more. So in the\ntwilight he set out again; but when he got over the wall he was\nterrified to see the Witch before him.\n\n\"How dare you come into my garden like a thief, and steal my corn\nsalad?\" she said, with angry looks. \"It shall disagree with you.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" he answered, \"be merciful to me; I am only here from necessity.\nMy wife sees your corn salad from the window, and she has such a longing\nfor it that she would die if she could not get some of it.\"\n\nThe anger of the Witch abated, and she said to him: \"If it is as you\nsay, I will allow you to take away with you as much corn salad as you\nlike, but on one condition. You must give me the child which your wife\nis about to bring into the world. I will care for it like a mother, and\nall will be well with it.\" In his fear the man consented to everything,\nand when the baby was born the Witch appeared, gave it the name of\nRapunzel (corn salad), and took it away with her.\n\nRapunzel was the most beautiful child under the sun. When she was twelve\nyears old, the Witch shut her up in a tower which stood in a wood. It\nhad neither staircase nor doors, and only a little window quite high up\nin the wall. When the Witch wanted to enter the tower, she stood at the\nfoot of it and cried:\n\n\"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!\"\n\nRapunzel had splendid long hair, as fine as spun gold. As soon as she\nheard the voice of the Witch she unfastened her plaits and twisted them\naround a hook by the window. They fell twenty ells downward, and the\nWitch climbed up by them.\n\nIt happened a couple of years later that the King's son rode through the\nforest and came close to the tower. From thence he heard a song so\nlovely that he stopped to listen. It was Rapunzel, who in her loneliness\nmade her sweet voice resound to pass away the time. The King's son\nwanted to join her, and he sought for the door of the tower, but there\nwas none to find.\n\nHe rode home, but the song had touched his heart so deeply that he went\ninto the forest every day to listen to it. Once, when he was hidden\nbehind a tree, he saw a witch come to the tower and call out:\n\n\"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!\"\n\nThen Rapunzel lowered her plaits of hair and the Witch climbed up to\nher.\n\n\"If that is the ladder by which one ascends, I will try my luck myself.\"\nAnd the next day, when it began to grow dark, he went to the tower and\ncried:\n\n\"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!\"\n\nThe hair fell down at once, and the King's son climbed up by it.\n\nAt first Rapunzel was terrified, for she had never set eyes on a man\nbefore, but the King's son talked to her in a friendly way, and told her\nthat his heart had been so deeply touched by her song that he had no\npeace, and he was obliged to see her. Then Rapunzel lost her fear, and\nwhen he asked if she would have him for her husband, and she saw that he\nwas young and handsome, she thought, \"He will love me better than old\nMother Gothel.\" So she said, \"Yes,\" and laid her hand in his. She said:\n\"I will gladly go with you, but I do not know how I am to get down from\nthis tower. When you come, will you bring a skein of silk with you every\ntime? I will twist it into a ladder, and when it is long enough I will\ndescend by it, and you can take me away with you on your horse.\"\n\nShe arranged with him that he should come and see her every evening, for\nthe old Witch came in the daytime.\n\nThe Witch discovered nothing, till suddenly Rapunzel said to her: \"Tell\nme, Mother Gothel, how can it be that you are so much heavier to draw up\nthan the young Prince who will be here in a moment?\"\n\n\"Oh, you wicked child, what do you say? I thought I had separated you\nfrom all the world, and yet you have deceived me.\" In her rage she\nseized Rapunzel's beautiful hair, twisted it twice around her left hand,\nsnatched up a pair of shears and cut off the plaits, which fell to the\nground. She was so merciless that she took poor Rapunzel away into a\nwilderness, where she forced her to live in the greatest grief and\nmisery.\n\nIn the evening of the day on which she had banished Rapunzel, the Witch\nfastened the plaits, which she had cut off, to the hook by the window,\nand when the Prince came and called, \"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your\nhair!\" she lowered the hair. The Prince climbed up, but there he found,\nnot his beloved Rapunzel, but the Witch, who looked at him with angry\nand wicked eyes.\n\n\"Ah!\" she cried mockingly, \"you have come to fetch your ladylove, but\nthe pretty bird is no longer in her nest; and she can sing no more, for\nthe cat has seized her, and it will scratch your own eyes out too.\nRapunzel is lost to you; you will never see her again.\"\n\nThe Prince was beside himself with grief, and in his despair he sprang\nout of the window. He was not killed, but his eyes were scratched out by\nthe thorns among which he fell. He wandered about blind in the wood, and\nhad nothing but roots and berries to eat. He did nothing but weep and\nlament over the loss of his beloved wife Rapunzel. In this way he\nwandered about for some years, till at last he reached the wilderness\nwhere Rapunzel had been living in great poverty with the twins (a boy\nand a girl) who had been born to her.\n\nHe heard a voice which seemed very familiar to him, and he went toward\nit. The voice was Rapunzel's, and she knew him at once, and fell weeping\nupon his neck. Two of her tears fell upon his eyes, and they immediately\ngrew quite clear, and he could see as well as ever.\n\nHe took her to his kingdom, where he was received with joy, and they\nlived long and happily together.\n\n\n\n\n_The Queen Bee_\n\n\nONCE upon a time two princes started off in search of adventure, and,\nfalling into a wild, free mode of life, did not come home again.\n\nThe third brother, who was called the Blockhead, set out to look for the\nother two. But when at last he found them, they mocked him for thinking\nof making his way in the world with his simplicity, while they, who were\nso much cleverer, could not get on.\n\nThey all three went on together till they came to an ant heap. The two\nelder princes wanted to disturb it, to see how the little ants crept\naway, carrying their eggs.\n\nBut the Blockhead said: \"Leave the little creatures alone; I will not\nallow you to disturb them.\"\n\nThen they went on farther till they came to a lake in which a great many\nducks were swimming about. The two wanted to catch and roast a pair.\n\nBut the Blockhead would not allow it, and said: \"Leave the creatures\nalone. You shall not kill them.\"\n\nAt last they came to a bee's nest, containing such a quantity of honey\nthat it flowed around the trunk of the tree.\n\nThe two princes wanted to set fire to the tree and suffocate the bees,\nso as to remove the honey.\n\nBut the Blockhead stopped them again, and said: \"Leave the creatures\nalone. I will not let you burn them.\"\n\nAt last the three brothers came to a castle, where the stables were full\nof stone horses, but not a soul was to be seen. They went through all\nthe rooms till they came to a door quite at the end, fastened with three\nbolts. In the middle of the door was a lattice, through which one could\nsee into the room.\n\nThere they saw a little gray man sitting at a table. They called to him\nonce, twice; but he did not hear them. Finally, when they had called him\nthe third time, he stood up and opened the door and came out. He said\nnot a word, but led them to a richly spread table, and when they had\neaten and drunk, he took them each to a bedroom.\n\nThe next morning the little Gray Man came to the eldest Prince,\nbeckoned, and led him to a stone tablet whereon were inscribed three\ntasks by means of which the castle should be freed from enchantment.\n\nThis was the first task: in the wood, under the moss, lay the Princess's\npearls, a thousand in number. These had all to be found, and if at\nsunset a single one were missing, the seeker would be turned to stone.\n\nThe eldest went away, and searched all day, but when evening came, he\nhad only found the first hundred, and it happened as the inscription\nforetold--he was turned to stone.\n\nThe next day the second brother undertook the quest; but he fared no\nbetter than the first, for he found only two hundred pearls, and he too\nwas turned to stone.\n\nAt last came the Blockhead's turn; he searched in the moss, but the\npearls were hard to find, and he got on but slowly.\n\nThen he sat down on a rock and cried, and as he was sitting there, the\nAnt King, whose life he had saved, came up with five thousand ants, and\nit was not long before the little creatures had found all the pearls and\nlaid them in a heap.\n\nNow the second task was to get the key of the Princess's room out of the\nlake.\n\nWhen the Blockhead came to the lake, the ducks, which he had once saved,\nswam up, dived, and brought up the key from the depths.\n\nBut the third task was the hardest. The Prince had to find out which was\nthe youngest and prettiest of the princesses while they were asleep.\n\nThey were exactly alike, and could not be distinguished in any way,\nexcept that before going to sleep each had eaten a different kind of\nsweet. The eldest a piece of sugar, the second a little syrup, and the\nthird a spoonful of honey.\n\nThen the Queen of the Bees, whom the Blockhead had saved from burning,\ncame and tried the lips of all three. Finally, she settled on the mouth\nof the one who had eaten the honey, and so the Prince recognized the\nright one.\n\nThen the charm was broken and everything in the castle was set free, and\nthose who had been turned to stone took human form again.\n\nAnd the Blockhead married the youngest and sweetest Princess, and became\nKing after her father's death, while his two brothers married the other\nsisters.\n\n\n\n\n_The Many-Furred Creature_\n\n\nTHERE was once upon a time a king who had a wife with golden hair, and\nshe was so beautiful that you couldn't find anyone like her in the\nworld. It happened that she fell ill, and when she felt that she must\nsoon die she sent for the King and said: \"If you want to marry after my\ndeath, make no one queen unless she is just as beautiful as I am and has\njust such golden hair as I have. Promise me this.\" After the King had\npromised her this she closed her eyes and died.\n\nFor a long time the King was not to be comforted, and he did not even\nthink of taking a second wife. At last his councilors said: \"The King\nmust marry again, so that we may have a Queen.\" So messengers were sent\nfar and wide to seek for a bride equal to the late Queen in beauty. But\nthere was no one in the wide world, and if there had been she could not\nhave had such golden hair. Then the messengers came home again, not\nhaving been able to find a queen.\n\nNow, the King had a daughter who was just as beautiful as her dead\nmother and had just such golden hair. One day, when she had grown up,\nher father looked at her and saw that she was exactly like her mother,\nso he said to his councilors: \"I will marry my daughter to one of you\nand she shall be Queen, for she is exactly like her dead mother, and\nwhen I die her husband shall be King.\" But when the Princess heard of\nher father's decision she was not at all pleased and said to him:\n\"Before I do your bidding I must have three dresses; one as golden as\nthe sun, one as silver as the moon, and one as shining as the stars.\nBesides these, I want a cloak made of a thousand different kinds of\nskin. Every animal in your kingdom must give a bit of his skin to it.\"\nBut she thought to herself: \"This will be quite impossible, and I shall\nnot have to marry some one I do not care for.\"\n\nThe King, however, was not to be turned from his purpose, and he\ncommanded the most skilled maidens in his kingdom to weave the three\ndresses, one as golden as the sun, and one as silver as the moon, and\none as shining as the stars; and he gave orders to all his huntsmen to\ncatch one of every kind of beast in the kingdom and to get a bit of its\nskin to make the cloak of a thousand pieces of fur. At last, when all\nwas ready, the King commanded the cloak to be brought to him, and he\nspread it out before the Princess and said: \"To-morrow shall be your\nwedding day.\" When the Princess saw that there was no more hope of\nchanging her father's resolution, she determined to flee away.\n\nIn the night, when everyone else was sleeping, she got up and took three\nthings from her treasures, a gold ring, a little gold spinning wheel,\nand a gold reel. She put the sun, moon, and star dresses in a nut shell,\ndrew on the cloak of many skins, and made her face and hands black with\nsoot. Then she commended herself to God and went out and traveled the\nwhole night till she came to a large forest. And as she was very much\ntired she sat down inside a hollow tree and fell asleep.\n\nThe sun rose and she still slept on and on, although it was nearly noon.\nNow, it happened that the King to whom this wood belonged was hunting in\nit. When his dogs came to the tree they sniffed and ran round and round\nit, barking. The King said to the huntsmen: \"See what sort of a wild\nbeast is in there.\" The huntsmen went in and then came back and said:\n\"In the hollow tree there lies a wonderful animal that we don't know,\nand we have never seen one like it. Its skin is made of a thousand\npieces of fur; but it is lying down asleep.\" The King said: \"See if you\ncan catch it alive, and then fasten it to the cart and we will take it\nwith us.\"\n\nWhen the huntsmen seized the maiden, she awoke and was frightened and\ncried out to them: \"I am a poor child, forsaken by father and mother.\nTake pity on me and let me go with you.\" Then they said to her:\n\"Many-furred Creature, you can work in the kitchen. Come with us and\nsweep the ashes together.\" So they put her in the cart and went back to\nthe palace. There they showed her a tiny room under the stairs, where no\ndaylight came, and said to her: \"Many-furred Creature, you can live and\nsleep here.\" Then she was sent into the kitchen, where she carried wood\nand water, poked the fire, washed vegetables, plucked fowls, swept up\nthe ashes, and did all the dirty work.\n\nSo the Many-furred Creature lived for a long time in great poverty. Ah,\nbeautiful king's daughter, what is going to befall you now?\n\nIt happened once when a great feast was being held in the palace that\nshe said to the cook: \"Can I go upstairs for a little bit and look on? I\nwill stand outside the doors.\" The cook replied: \"Yes, you can go up,\nbut in half an hour you must be back here to sweep up the ashes.\" Then\nshe took her little oil lamp and went into her little room, drew off her\nfur cloak, and washed off the soot from her face and hands, so that her\nbeauty shone forth, and it was as if one sunbeam after another were\ncoming out of a black cloud. Then she opened the nut and took out the\ndress as golden as the sun. And when she had done this she went up to\nthe feast, and everyone stepped out of her way, for nobody knew her, and\nthey thought she must be a king's daughter. But the King came toward her\nand gave her his hand, and danced with her, thinking to himself, \"My\neyes have never beheld anyone so fair!\" When the dance was ended she\ncourtesied to him, and when the King looked around she had disappeared,\nno one knew whither. The guards who were standing before the palace were\ncalled and questioned, but no one had seen her.\n\nShe had run to her little room and had quickly taken off her dress, made\nher face and hands black, put on the fur cloak, and was once more the\nMany-furred Creature. When she came into the kitchen and was setting\nabout her work of sweeping the ashes together the cook said to her: \"Let\nthat wait till to-morrow, and just cook the King's soup for me. I want\nto have a little peep at the company upstairs. But be sure that you do\nnot let a hair fall into it, otherwise you will get nothing to eat in\nfuture!\" So the cook went away, and the Many-furred Creature cooked the\nsoup for the King. She made a bread soup as well as she possibly could,\nand when it was done she fetched her gold ring from her little room and\nlaid it in the tureen in which the soup was to be served up.\n\nWhen the dance was ended the King had his soup brought to him and ate\nit, and it was so good that he thought he had never tasted such soup in\nhis life. But when he came to the bottom of the dish he saw a gold ring\nlying there, and he could not imagine how it got in. Then he commanded\nthe cook to be brought before him. The cook was terrified when he heard\nthe command and said to the Many-furred Creature: \"You must have let a\nhair fall into the soup, and if you have you deserve a good beating!\"\n\nWhen he came before the King, the King asked who had cooked the soup.\nThe cook answered: \"I cooked it.\" But the King said: \"That's not true,\nfor it was quite different and much better soup than you have ever\ncooked.\" Then the cook said: \"I must confess. I did not cook the soup;\nthe Many-furred Creature did.\" \"Let her be brought before me,\" said the\nKing.\n\nWhen the Many-furred Creature came the King asked her who she was. \"I\nam a poor child without father or mother.\" Then he asked her: \"What do\nyou do in my palace?\" \"I am of no use except to have boots thrown at my\nhead.\" \"How did you get the ring which was in the soup?\" he asked. \"I\nknow nothing at all about the ring,\" she answered. So the King could\nfind out nothing and was obliged to send her away.\n\nAfter a time there was another feast, and the Many-furred Creature\nbegged the cook again to let her go and look on. He answered: \"Yes, but\ncome back again in half an hour and cook the King the bread soup that he\nlikes so much.\" So she ran away to her little room, washed herself\nquickly, took out of the nut the dress as silver as the moon and put it\non. Then she went upstairs looking just like a king's daughter, and the\nKing came toward her, delighted to see her again, and as the dance had\njust begun, they danced together. But when the dance was ended she\ndisappeared again so quickly that the King could not see which way she\nwent.\n\nShe ran to her little room and changed herself once more into the\nMany-furred Creature, and went into the kitchen to cook the bread soup.\nWhen the cook was upstairs she fetched the golden spinning wheel and put\nit in the dish, so that the soup was poured over it. It was brought to\nthe King, who ate it and liked it as much as the last time. He had the\ncook sent to him, and again he had to confess that the Many-furred\nCreature had cooked the soup. Then the Many-furred Creature came before\nthe King, but she said again that she was of no use except to have boots\nthrown at her head, and that she knew nothing at all of the golden\nspinning wheel.\n\nWhen the King had a feast for the third time things did not turn out\nquite the same as they had before. The cook said: \"You must be a witch,\nMany-furred Creature, for you always put something in the soup, so that\nit is much better and tastes nicer to the King than any that I cook.\"\nBut because she begged hard he let her go up for the third time. Now she\nput on the dress as shining as the stars and stepped into the hall in\nit.\n\nThe King danced again with the beautiful maiden, and thought she had\nnever looked so beautiful. And while he was dancing he put a gold ring\non her finger without her seeing it, and he commanded that the dance\nshould last longer than usual. When it was finished he wanted to keep\nher hands in his, but she broke from him and sprang so quickly away\namong the people that she vanished from his sight. She ran as fast as\nshe could to her little room under the stairs, but because she had\nstayed too long beyond the half hour she could not stop to take off the\nbeautiful dress, but only threw the fur cloak over it, and in her haste\ndid not make herself quite black with the soot, one finger remaining\nwhite.\n\nThe Many-furred Creature now ran into the kitchen, cooked the King's\nbread soup, and when the cook had gone she laid the golden reel in the\ndish. When the King found the reel at the bottom, he had the Many-furred\nCreature brought to him, and then he saw the white finger and the ring\nwhich he had put on her hand in the dance. Then he took her hand and\nheld her tightly, and as she was trying to get away she undid the fur\ncloak a little bit and the star dress shone out. The King seized the\ncloak and tore it off her. Her golden hair came down, and she stood\nthere in her full splendor and could not hide herself away any more. And\nwhen the soot and ashes had been washed from her face she looked more\nbeautiful than anyone in the world. But the King said: \"You are my dear\nbride and we will never be separated from each other.\" So the wedding\nwas celebrated and they lived happily ever after.\n\n\n\n\n_Snow-white and Rose-red_\n\n\nA POOR widow once lived in a little cottage with a garden in front of\nit, in which grew two rose trees, one bearing white roses and the other\nred. She had two children, who were just like the two rose trees; one\nwas called Snow-white and the other Rose-red, and they were the\nsweetest and best children in the world, always diligent and always\ncheerful; but Snow-white was quieter and more gentle than Rose-red.\nRose-red loved to run about the fields and meadows and to pick flowers\nand catch butterflies; but Snow-white sat at home with her mother and\nhelped her in the household, or read aloud to her when there was no work\nto do. The two children loved each other so dearly that they always\nwalked about, hand in hand, whenever they went out together, and when\nSnow-white said, \"We will never desert each other,\" Rose-red answered,\n\"No, not as long as we live\"; and the mother added: \"Whatever one gets\nshe shall share with the other.\" They often roamed about in the woods\ngathering berries, and no beast offered to hurt them; on the contrary,\nthey came up to them in the most confiding manner; the little hare would\neat a cabbage leaf from their hands, the deer grazed beside them, the\nstag would bound past them merrily, and the birds remained on the\nbranches and sang to them with all their might. No evil ever befell\nthem; if they tarried late in the wood and night overtook them, they lay\ndown together on the moss and slept till morning, and their mother knew\nthey were quite safe and never felt anxious about them. Once, when they\nhad slept the night in the wood and had been wakened by the morning sun,\nthey perceived a beautiful child in a shining white robe sitting close\nto their resting place. The figure rose up, looked at them kindly, but\nsaid nothing and vanished into the wood. And when they looked round\nabout them they became aware that they had slept quite close to a\nprecipice, over which they would certainly have fallen had they gone on\na few steps farther in the darkness. And when they told their mother of\ntheir adventure, she said what they had seen must have been the angel\nthat guards good children.\n\nSnow-white and Rose-red kept their mother's cottage so beautifully clean\nand neat that it was a pleasure to go into it. In summer Rose-red looked\nafter the house, and every morning before her mother awoke she placed a\nbunch of flowers before the bed, and a rose from each tree. In winter\nSnow-white lit the fire and put on the kettle, which was made of brass,\nbut so beautifully polished that it shone like gold. In the evening when\nthe snowflakes fell, their mother said, \"Snow-white, go and close the\nshutters\"; and they drew round the fire, while the mother put on her\nspectacles and read aloud from a big book, and the two girls listened\nand sat and spun. Beside them on the ground lay a little lamb, and\nbehind them perched a little white dove with its head tucked under its\nwings.\n\nOne evening as they sat thus cozily together some one knocked at the\ndoor as though he desired admittance. The mother said: \"Rose-red, open\nthe door quickly! it must be some traveler seeking shelter.\" Rose-red\nhastened to unbar the door, and thought she saw a poor man standing in\nthe darkness outside; but it was no such thing, only a bear, who poked\nhis thick black head through the door. Rose-red screamed aloud and\nsprang back in terror, the lamb began to bleat, the dove flapped its\nwings, and Snow-white ran and hid behind her mother's bed. But the bear\nbegan to speak, and said: \"Don't be afraid; I won't hurt you. I am half\nfrozen, and only wish to warm myself a little.\" \"My poor bear,\" said the\nmother, \"lie down by the fire, only take care you don't burn your fur.\"\nThen she called out: \"Snow-white and Rose-red, come out; the bear will\ndo you no harm; he is a good, honest creature.\" So they both came out of\ntheir hiding places, and gradually the lamb and dove drew near too, and\nthey all forgot their fear. The bear asked the children to beat the snow\na little out of his fur, and they fetched a brush and scrubbed him till\nhe was dry. Then the beast stretched himself in front of the fire and\ngrowled quite happily and comfortably. The children soon grew quite at\ntheir ease with him and led their hapless guest a fearful life. They\ntugged his fur with their hands, put their small feet on his back, and\nrolled him about here and there, or took a hazel wand and beat him with\nit; and if he growled they only laughed. The bear submitted to\neverything with the best possible good nature, only when they went too\nfar he cried: \"O children, spare my life!\n\n \"'Snow-white and Rose-red,\n Don't beat your lover dead.'\"\n\nWhen it was time to retire for the night and the others went to bed, the\nmother said to the bear: \"You can lie there on the hearth, in Heaven's\nname; it will be shelter for you from the cold and wet.\" As soon as day\ndawned the children let him out, and he trotted over the snow into the\nwood. From this time on the bear came every evening at the same hour,\nand lay down by the hearth and let the children play what pranks they\nliked with him; and they grew so accustomed to him that the door was\nnever shut till their black friend had made his appearance.\n\nWhen spring came and all outside was green, the bear said one morning to\nSnow-white: \"Now I must go away and not return again the whole summer.\"\n\"Where are you going to, dear bear?\" asked Snow-white. \"I must go to the\nwood and protect my treasure from the wicked dwarfs. In winter, when the\nearth is frozen hard, they are obliged to remain underground, for they\ncan't work their way through; but now, when the sun has thawed and\nwarmed the ground, they break through and come up above to spy the land\nand steal what they can. What once falls into their hands and into their\ncaves is not easily brought back to light.\" Snow-white was quite sad\nover their friend's departure, and when she unbarred the door for him\nthe bear, stepping out, caught a piece of his fur in the door knocker,\nand Snow-white thought she caught sight of glittering gold beneath it,\nbut she couldn't be certain of it; and the bear ran hastily away and\nsoon disappeared behind the trees.\n\nA short time after this the mother sent the children into the wood to\ncollect fagots. They came in their wanderings upon a big tree which lay\nfelled on the ground, and on the trunk among the long grass they noticed\nsomething jumping up and down, but what it was they couldn't\ndistinguish.\n\nWhen they approached nearer they perceived a dwarf with a wizened face\nand a beard a yard long. The end of the beard was jammed into a cleft of\nthe tree, and the little man sprang about like a dog on a chain, and\ndidn't seem to know what he was to do. He glared at the girls with his\nfiery red eyes and screamed out: \"What are you standing there for? Can't\nyou come and help me?\" \"What were you doing, little man?\" asked\nRose-red. \"You stupid, inquisitive goose!\" replied the dwarf; \"I wanted\nto split the tree in order to get little chips of wood for our kitchen\nfire; those thick logs that serve to make fires for coarse, greedy\npeople like yourselves quite burn up all the little food we need. I had\nsuccessfully driven in the wedge and all was going well, but the horrid\nwood was so slippery that it suddenly sprang out, and the tree closed up\nso rapidly that I had no time to take my beautiful white beard out, so\nhere I am stuck fast and I can't get away; and you silly, smooth-faced,\nmilk-and-water girls just stand and laugh. Ugh, what wretches you are!\"\n\nThe children did all in their power, but they couldn't get the beard\nout; it was wedged in far too firmly. \"I will run and fetch somebody,\"\nsaid Rose-red. \"Crazy blockheads!\" snapped the dwarf; \"what's the good\nof calling anyone else? You're already two too many for me. Does nothing\nbetter occur to you than that?\" \"Don't be so impatient,\" said\nSnow-white. \"I'll see you get help.\" And taking her scissors out of her\npocket she cut the end off his beard. As soon as the dwarf felt himself\nfree he seized a bagful of gold which was hidden among the roots of the\ntree, lifted it up, and muttered aloud: \"Curse these rude wretches,\ncutting off a piece of my splendid beard!\" With these words he swung the\nbag over his back and disappeared without as much as looking at the\nchildren again.\n\nShortly after this Snow-white and Rose-red went out to get a dish of\nfish. As they approached the stream they saw something which looked like\nan enormous grasshopper springing toward the water as if it were going\nto jump in. They ran forward and recognized their old friend, the\ndwarf. \"Where are you going to?\" asked Rose-red. \"You're surely not\ngoing to jump into the water?\" \"I'm not such a fool,\" screamed the\ndwarf. \"Don't you see that horrid fish is trying to drag me in?\" The\nlittle man had been sitting on the bank fishing, when unfortunately the\nwind had entangled his beard in the line; and when immediately\nafterwards a big fish bit, the feeble little creature had no strength to\npull it out. The fish had the upper fin and dragged the dwarf toward\nhim. He clung on with all his might to every rush and blade of grass,\nbut it didn't help him much. He had to follow every movement of the fish\nand was in great danger of being drawn into the water. The girls came up\njust at the right moment, held him firm, and did all they could to\ndisentangle his beard from the line; but in vain--beard and line were in\na hopeless muddle. Nothing remained but to produce the scissors and cut\nthe beard, by which a small part of it was sacrificed.\n\nWhen the dwarf perceived what they were about, he yelled to them: \"Do\nyou call that manners, you toadstools! to disfigure a fellow's face? It\nwasn't enough that you shortened my beard before, but you must now needs\ncut off the best of it. I can't appear like this before my own people. I\nwish you'd been at Jericho first.\" Then he fetched a sack of pearls that\nlay among the rushes, and without saying another word he dragged it away\nand disappeared behind a stone.\n\nIt happened that soon after this the mother sent the two girls to the\ntown to buy needles, thread, laces, and ribbons. Their road led over a\nheath where huge bowlders of rock lay scattered here and there. While\ntrudging along they saw a big bird hovering in the air, circling slowly\nabove them, but always descending lower, till at last it settled on a\nrock not far from them. Immediately afterwards they heard a sharp,\npiercing cry. They ran forward and saw with horror that the eagle had\npounced on their old friend the dwarf and was about to carry him off.\nThe tender-hearted children seized hold of the little man, and struggled\nso long with the bird that at last he let go his prey. When the dwarf\nhad recovered from the first shock he screamed in his squeaking voice:\n\"Couldn't you have treated me more carefully? You have torn my thin\nlittle coat all to shreds, useless, awkward hussies that you are!\" Then\nhe took a bag of precious stones and vanished under the rocks into his\ncave. The girls were accustomed to his ingratitude, and went on their\nway and did their business in town. On their way home, as they were\nagain passing the heath, they surprised the dwarf pouring out his\nprecious stones on an open space, for he had thought no one would pass\nby at so late an hour. The evening sun shone on the glittering stones,\nand they glanced and gleamed so beautifully that the children stood\nstill and gazed on them. \"What are you standing there gaping for?\"\nscreamed the dwarf, and his ashen-gray face became scarlet with rage. He\nwas about to go off with these angry words, when a sudden growl was\nheard and a black bear trotted out of the wood. The dwarf jumped up in a\ngreat fright, but he hadn't time to reach his place of retreat, for the\nbear was already close to him. Then he cried in terror: \"Dear Mr. Bear,\nspare me! I'll give you all my treasure. Look at these beautiful\nprecious stones lying there. Spare my life! What pleasure would you get\nfrom a poor, feeble little fellow like me? You won't feel me between\nyour teeth. There, lay hold of these two wicked girls--they will be a\ntender morsel for you, as fat as young quails; eat them up, for Heaven's\nsake.\" But the bear, paying no attention to his words, gave the evil\nlittle creature one blow with his paw and he never moved again.\n\n[Illustration: \"'WHAT ARE YOU STANDING THERE GAPING FOR?' SCREAMED THE\nDWARF\"]\n\nThe girls had run away, but the bear called after them: \"Snow-white and\nRose-red, don't be afraid. Wait, and I'll come with you.\" Then they\nrecognized his voice and stood still, and when the bear was quite close\nto them his skin suddenly fell off, and a beautiful man stood beside\nthem, all dressed in gold. \"I am a king's son,\" he said, \"and have been\ndoomed by that unholy little dwarf, who had stolen my treasure, to roam\nabout the woods as a wild bear till his death should set me free. Now he\nhas received his well-merited punishment.\"\n\nSnow-white married him and Rose-red his brother, and they divided the\ngreat treasure the dwarf had collected in his cave between them. The old\nmother lived for many years peacefully with her children; and she\ncarried the two rose trees with her, and they stood in front of her\nwindow, and every year they bore the finest red and white roses.\n\n\n\n\n_The Frog Prince_\n\n\nIN times of yore, when wishes were both heard and granted, lived a king\nwhose daughters were all beautiful, but the youngest was so lovely that\nthe sun himself, who has seen so much, wondered at her beauty every time\nhe looked in her face. Now, near the King's castle was a large dark\nforest; and in the forest, under an old linden tree, was a deep well.\nWhen the day was very hot, the King's daughter used to go to the wood\nand seat herself at the edge of the cool well; and when she became\nwearied she would take a golden ball, throw it up in the air, and catch\nit again. This was her favorite amusement. Once it happened that her\ngolden ball, instead of falling back into the little hand that she\nstretched out for it, dropped on the ground and immediately rolled away\ninto the water. The King's daughter followed it with her eyes, but the\nball had vanished and the well was so deep that no one could see down to\nthe bottom. Then she began to weep, wept louder and louder every minute,\nand could not console herself at all.\n\nWhile she was thus lamenting, some one called to her: \"What is the\nmatter with you, King's daughter? You weep so bitterly that you would\ntouch the heart of a stone.\"\n\nShe looked around to see whence the voice came, and saw a frog\nstretching his thick, ugly head out of the water.\n\n\"Ah, it is you, old water paddler!\" said she. \"I am crying for my golden\nball, which has fallen into the well.\"\n\n\"Be content,\" answered the Frog, \"I dare say I can give you some good\nadvice; but what will you give me if I bring back your plaything to\nyou?\"\n\n\"Whatever you like, dear Frog,\" said she, \"my clothes, my pearls, and\njewels, even the golden crown I wear.\"\n\nThe Frog answered: \"Your clothes, your pearls, and jewels, even your\ngolden crown I do not care for; but if you will love me, and let me be\nyour companion and playfellow; sit near you at your little table, eat\nfrom your little golden plate, drink from your little cup, and sleep in\nyour little bed--if you will promise me this, then I will bring you back\nyour golden ball from the bottom of the well.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes!\" said she; \"I promise you everything, if you will only bring\nme back my golden ball.\"\n\nShe thought to herself meanwhile: \"What nonsense the silly Frog talks!\nHe sits in the water with the other frogs and croaks, and cannot be\nanybody's playfellow.\"\n\nBut the Frog, as soon as he had received the promise, dipped his head\nunder the water and sank down. In a little while up he came again with\nthe ball in his mouth, and threw it on the grass. The King's daughter\nwas overjoyed when she beheld her pretty plaything and picked it up and\nran away with it.\n\n\"Wait! wait!\" cried the Frog; \"take me with you. I cannot run as fast as\nyou.\"\n\nAlas! of what use was it that he croaked after her as loud as he could.\nShe would not listen to him, but hastened home, and soon forgot the poor\nFrog, who was obliged to plunge again to the bottom of his well.\n\nThe next day, when she was sitting at dinner with the King and all the\ncourtiers, eating from her little golden plate, there came a sound of\nsomething creeping up the marble staircase--splish, splash; and when it\nhad reached the top, it knocked at the door and cried: \"Youngest King's\ndaughter, open to me.\"\n\nShe ran, wishing to see who was outside; but when she opened the door,\nand there sat the Frog, she flung it hastily to again, and sat down at\ntable, feeling very, very uncomfortable. The King saw that her heart was\nbeating violently, and said: \"Well, my child, why are you afraid? Is a\ngiant standing outside the door to carry you off?\"\n\n\"Oh, no!\" answered she, \"it is no giant, but a nasty frog, who\nyesterday, when I was playing in the wood near the well, fetched my\ngolden ball out of the water. For this I promised him he should be my\ncompanion, but I never thought he could come out of his well. Now he is\nat the door, and wants to come in.\"\n\nAgain, the second time there was a knock, and a voice cried:\n\n \"Youngest King's daughter,\n Open to me;\n Know you what yesterday\n You promised me\n By the cool water?\n Youngest King's daughter,\n Open to me.\"\n\nThen said the King: \"What you promised you must perform. Go and open the\ndoor.\" She went and opened the door; the Frog hopped in, always\nfollowing and following her till he came up to her chair. There he sat\nand cried out: \"Lift me up to you on the table.\" She refused, till the\nKing, her father commanded her to do it. When the Frog was on the table\nhe said: \"Now push your little golden plate nearer to me that we may eat\ntogether.\" She did as he desired, but one could easily see that she did\nit unwillingly. The Frog seemed to enjoy his dinner very much, but every\nmorsel she ate stuck in the throat of the poor little Princess.\n\nThen said the Frog: \"I have eaten enough, and am tired; carry me to your\nlittle room, and make your little silken bed smooth, and we will lay\nourselves down to sleep together.\"\n\nAt this the daughter of the King began to weep, for she was afraid of\nthe cold frog, who wanted to sleep in her pretty clean bed.\n\nBut the King looked angrily at her, and said again: \"What you have\npromised you must perform. The Frog is your companion.\"\n\nIt was no use to complain; whether she liked it or not, she was obliged\nto take the Frog with her up to her little bed. So she picked him up\nwith two fingers, hating him bitterly the while, and carried him\nupstairs. But when she got into bed, instead of lifting him up to her,\nshe threw him with all her strength against the wall, saying: \"Now, you\nnasty Frog, there will be an end of you!\"\n\nBut what fell down from the wall was not a dead frog, but a living young\nprince, with beautiful and loving eyes, who at once became, by her own\npromise and her father's will, her dear companion and husband. He told\nher how he had been cursed by a wicked sorceress, and that no one but\nthe King's youngest daughter could release him from his enchantment and\ntake him out of the well.\n\nThe next day a carriage drove up to the palace gates with eight white\nhorses, having white feathers on their heads and golden reins. Behind it\nstood the servant of the young Prince, called the Faithful Henry. This\nFaithful Henry had been so grieved when his master was changed into a\nfrog, that he had been compelled to have three iron bands fastened\naround his heart, lest it should break. Now the carriage came to convey\nthe Prince to his kingdom, so the Faithful Henry lifted in the bride and\nbridegroom, and mounted behind, full of joy at his lord's release. But\nwhen they had gone a short distance, the Prince heard behind him a noise\nas if something was breaking. He turned around and cried out: \"Henry,\nthe carriage is breaking!\"\n\nBut Henry replied: \"No, sir, it is not the carriage, but one of the\nbands from my heart with which I was forced to bind it up, or it would\nhave broken with grief while you sat as a frog at the bottom of the\nwell.\"\n\nTwice again this happened, and the Prince always thought the carriage\nwas breaking; but it was only the bands breaking off from the heart of\nthe Faithful Henry, out of joy that his lord the Frog Prince was a frog\nno more.\n\n\n\n\n_The Goose Girl_\n\n\nTHE King of a great land died, and left his Queen to take care of their\nonly child. This child was a daughter who was very beautiful, and her\nmother loved her dearly and was very kind to her. And there was a good\nfairy, too, who was fond of the Princess, and helped her mother to watch\nover her. When she grew up she was betrothed to a prince who lived a\ngreat way off; and as the time drew near for her to be married she made\nready to set off on her journey to his country. Then the Queen, her\nmother, packed up a great many costly things; jewels and gold and\nsilver; trinkets, fine dresses, and in short, everything that became a\nroyal bride. And she gave her a waiting maid to ride with her, and give\nher into the bridegroom's hands; and each had a horse for the journey.\nNow the Princess's horse was the fairy's gift, and it was called Falada,\nand could speak.\n\nWhen the time came for them to set out the fairy went into her\nbedchamber, and took a little knife and cut off a lock of her hair and\ngave it to the Princess, and said: \"Take care of it, dear child; for it\nis a charm that may be of use to you on the road.\" Then they all took a\nsorrowful leave of the Princess; and she put the lock of hair into her\nbosom, got upon her horse, and set off on her journey to her\nbridegroom's kingdom.\n\nOne day, as they were riding along by a brook, the Princess began to\nfeel very thirsty, and she said to her maid: \"Pray get down and fetch me\nsome water in my golden cup out of yonder brook, for I want to drink.\"\n\"Nay,\" said the maid, \"if you are thirsty, get off yourself and stoop\ndown by the water and drink; I shall not be your waiting maid any\nlonger.\" Then she was so thirsty that she got down and knelt over the\nlittle brook and drank, for she was frightened, and dared not bring out\nher golden cup; and she wept and said:\n\n\"Alas! what will become of me?\" And the lock of hair answered her, and\nsaid:\n\n \"Alas! alas! if thy mother knew it,\n Sadly, sadly would she rue it.\"\n\nBut the Princess was very gentle and meek, so she said nothing to her\nmaid's ill behavior, but got upon her horse again.\n\nThen all rode farther on their journey till the day grew so warm, and\nthe sun so scorching that the bride began to feel very thirsty again;\nand at last, when they came to a river, she forgot her maid's rude\nspeech, and said: \"Pray get down and fetch me some water to drink in my\ngolden cup.\" But the maid answered her, and spoke even more haughtily\nthan before: \"Drink if you will, but I shall not be your waiting maid.\"\nThen the Princess was so thirsty that she got off her horse and lay\ndown, and held her head over the running stream and cried and said:\n\"What will become of me?\" And the lock of hair answered her again:\n\n \"Alas! alas! if thy mother knew it,\n Sadly, sadly would she rue it.\"\n\nAnd as she leaned down to drink, the lock of hair fell from her bosom\nand floated away with the water. Now she was so frightened that she did\nnot see it; but her maid saw it and was very glad, for she knew the\ncharm; and she saw that the poor bride would be in her power, now that\nshe had lost the hair. So when the bride had done drinking, and would\nhave got upon Falada again, the maid said: \"I shall ride upon Falada,\nand you may have my horse instead.\" So she was forced to give up her\nhorse, and soon afterwards to take off her royal clothes and put on her\nmaid's shabby ones.\n\nAt last, as they drew near the end of their journey, this treacherous\nservant threatened to kill her mistress if she ever told anyone what had\nhappened. But Falada saw it all and marked it well.\n\nThen the waiting maid got upon Falada, and the real bride rode upon the\nother horse, and they went on in this way till at last they came to the\nroyal court. There was great joy at their coming, and the Prince flew to\nmeet them, and lifted the maid from her horse, thinking she was the one\nwho was to be his wife; and she was led upstairs to the royal chamber;\nbut the true Princess was told to stay in the court below.\n\nNow the old King happened just then to have nothing else to do, so he\namused himself by sitting at his kitchen window, looking at what was\ngoing on, and he saw her in the courtyard. As she looked very pretty,\nand too delicate for a waiting maid, he went up into the royal chamber\nto ask the bride who it was she had brought with her, that was thus left\nstanding in the court below. \"I brought her with me for the sake of her\ncompany on the road,\" said she; \"pray give the girl some work to do,\nthat she may not be idle.\" The old King could not for some time think of\nany work for her to do, but at last he said: \"I have a lad who takes\ncare of my geese, she may go and help him.\" Now the name of this lad\nthat the real bride was to help in watching the King's geese was\nCurdken.\n\nBut the false bride said to the Prince: \"Dear husband, pray do me one\nact of kindness.\" \"That I will,\" said the Prince. \"Then tell one of your\nslaughterers to cut off the head of the horse I rode upon, for it was\nvery unruly, and plagued me sadly on the road\"; but the truth was, she\nwas very much afraid lest Falada should some day or other speak and tell\nall she had done to the Princess. She carried her point, and the\nfaithful Falada was killed; but when the true Princess heard of it she\nwept, and begged the man to nail up Falada's head against a large dark\ngate of the city, through which she had to pass every morning and\nevening, that there she might still see him sometimes. Then the\nslaughterer said he would do as she wished; and cut off the head, and\nnailed it up under the dark gate.\n\nEarly the next morning, as she and Curdken went out through the gate,\nshe cried sorrowfully:\n\n[Illustration: \"FALADA, FALADA, THERE THOU HANGEST!\"\n\n\"BRIDE, BRIDE, THERE THOU GANGEST!\"]\n\n \"Falada, Falada, there thou hangest!\"\n\nand the head answered:\n\n \"Bride, bride, there thou gangest!\n Alas! alas! if thy mother knew it,\n Sadly, sadly would she rue it.\"\n\nThen they went out of the city and drove the geese on. And when she came\nto the meadow she sat down upon a bank there, and let down her waving\nlocks of hair, which were all of pure silver; and when Curdken saw it\nglitter in the sun he ran up, and would have pulled some of the locks\nout, but she cried:\n\n \"Blow, breezes, blow!\n Let Curdken's hat go!\n Blow, breezes, blow!\n Let him after it go!\n O'er hills, dales, and rocks,\n Away be it whirl'd,\n Till the silvery locks\n Are all comb'd and curl'd!\"\n\nThen there came a wind so strong that it blew off Curdken's hat, and\naway it flew over the hills, and he was forced to turn and run after it,\ntill, by the time he came back, she had done combing and curling her\nhair, and had put it up safe again. Then he was very angry and sulky,\nand would not speak to her at all; but they watched the geese until it\ngrew dark in the evening, and then drove them homeward.\n\nThe next morning, as they were going through the dark gate, the poor\ngirl looked up at Falada's head, and cried:\n\n \"Falada, Falada, there thou hangest!\"\n\nand it answered:\n\n \"Bride, bride, there thou gangest!\n Alas! alas! if thy mother knew it,\n Sadly, sadly would she rue it.\"\n\nThen she drove on the geese, and sat down again in the meadow, and began\nto comb out her hair as before; and Curdken ran up to her, and wanted to\ntake hold of it, but she cried out quickly:\n\n \"Blow, breezes, blow!\n Let Curdken's hat go!\n Blow, breezes, blow!\n Let him after it go!\n O'er hills, dales, and rocks,\n Away be it whirl'd,\n Till the silvery locks\n Are all comb'd and curl'd!\"\n\nThen a wind came and blew away his hat; and off it flew a great way,\nover the hills and far away, so that he had to run after it; and when he\ncame back she had bound up her hair again, and all was safe. So they\nwatched the geese till it grew dark.\n\nIn the evening, after they came home, Curdken went to the old King, and\nsaid: \"I cannot have that strange girl to help me to keep the geese any\nlonger.\" \"Why?\" said the King. \"Because, instead of doing any good, she\ndoes nothing but tease me all day long.\" Then the King made him tell\nwhat had happened. And Curdken said: \"When we go in the morning through\nthe dark gate with our flock of geese, she cries and talks with the head\nof a horse that hangs upon the wall, and says:\n\n \"Falada, Falada, there thou hangest!\"\n\nand the head answers:\n\n \"Bride, bride, there thou gangest!\n Alas! alas! if thy mother knew it,\n Sadly, sadly would she rue it.\"\n\nAnd Curdken went on telling the King what had happened upon the meadow\nwhere the geese fed; how his hat was blown away, and how he was forced\nto run after it, and to leave his flock of geese to themselves. But the\nold King told the boy to go out again the next day. And when morning\ncame, he placed himself behind the dark gate, and heard how she spoke to\nFalada, and how Falada answered. Then he went into the field, and hid\nhimself in a bush by the meadow's side; and he soon saw with his own\neyes how they drove the flock of geese; and how, after a little time,\nshe let down her hair that glittered in the sun. And then he heard her\nsay:\n\n \"Blow, breezes, blow!\n Let Curdken's hat go!\n Blow, breezes, blow!\n Let him after it go!\n O'er hills, dales, and rocks,\n Away be it whirl'd,\n Till the silvery locks\n Are all comb'd and curl'd!\"\n\nAnd soon came a gale of wind and carried away Curdken's hat, and away\nwent Curdken after it, while the girl went on combing and curling her\nhair. All this the old King saw. So he went home without being seen, and\nwhen the little goose girl came back in the evening he called her aside,\nand asked her why she did this; but she burst into tears, and said:\n\"That I must not tell you or any man, or I shall lose my life.\"\n\nBut the old King begged so hard that she had no peace till she had told\nhim all the tale, from beginning to end, word for word. And it was very\nlucky for her that she did so, for when she had done, the King ordered\nroyal clothes to be put upon her, and gazed on her with wonder, she was\nso beautiful. Then he called his son, and told him that he had only the\nfalse bride; for that she was merely a waiting maid while the true bride\nstood by. And the young King rejoiced when he saw her beauty, and heard\nhow meek and patient she had been; and without saying anything to the\nfalse bride, the King ordered a great feast to be made ready for all his\ncourt. The bridegroom sat at the head, with the false Princess on one\nside, and the true one on the other; but nobody knew her again, for her\nbeauty was quite dazzling to their eyes, and she did not seem at all\nlike the little goose girl, now that she had her brilliant dress on.\n\nWhen they had eaten and drunk, and were very merry, the old King said he\nwould tell them a tale. So he began, and told all the story of the\nPrincess, as if it was one that he had once heard; and he asked the true\nwaiting maid what she thought ought to be done to anyone who would\nbehave thus. \"Nothing better,\" said this false bride, \"than that she\nshould be banished to the depths of the dark woods and live there\nforever.\" \"Thou art she!\" said the old King; \"and as thou hast judged\nthyself, so shall it be done to thee.\" And the young King was then\nmarried to his true wife, and they reigned over the kingdom in peace and\nhappiness all their lives; and the good fairy came to see them, and\nrestored the faithful Falada to life again.\n\n\n\n\n_Briar Rose_\n\n\nA LONG time ago there lived a king and a queen, who said every day, \"If\nonly we had a child\"; but for a long time they had none.\n\nIt fell out once, as the Queen was bathing, that a frog crept out of the\nwater on to the land and said to her: \"Your wish shall be fulfilled;\nbefore a year has passed you shall bring a daughter into the world.\"\n\nThe frog's words came true. The Queen had a little girl who was so\nbeautiful that the King could not contain himself for joy, and prepared\na great feast. He invited not only his relations, friends, and\nacquaintances, but the fairies, in order that they might be favorably\nand kindly disposed toward the child. There were thirteen of them in the\nkingdom, but as the King had only twelve golden plates for them to eat\noff, one of the fairies had to stay at home.\n\nThe feast was held with all splendor, and when it came to an end the\nfairies all presented the child with a magic gift. One gave her virtue,\nanother beauty, a third riches, and so on, with everything in the world\nthat she could wish for.\n\nWhen eleven of the fairies had said their say, the thirteenth suddenly\nappeared. She wanted to revenge herself for not having been invited.\nWithout greeting anyone, or even glancing at the company, she called out\nin a loud voice, \"The Princess shall prick herself with a distaff in her\nfifteenth year and shall fall down dead\"; and without another word she\nturned and left the hall.\n\nEveryone was terror-stricken, but the twelfth fairy, whose wish was\nstill unspoken, stepped forward. She could not cancel the curse, but\ncould only soften it, so she said: \"It shall not be death, but a deep\nsleep lasting a hundred years, into which your daughter shall fall.\"\n\nThe King was so anxious to guard his dear child from the misfortune that\nhe sent out a command that all the distaffs in the whole kingdom should\nbe burned.\n\nAll the promises of the fairies came true.\n\nThe Princess grew up so beautiful, modest, kind, and clever that\neveryone who saw her could not but love her. Now it happened that on the\nvery day when she was fifteen years old the King and Queen were away\nfrom home, and the Princess was left quite alone in the castle. She\nwandered about over the whole place, looking at rooms and halls as she\npleased, and at last she came to an old tower. She ascended a narrow,\nwinding staircase and reached a little door. A rusty key was sticking in\nthe lock, and when she turned it the door flew open. In a little room\nsat an old woman with a spindle, busily spinning her flax.\n\n\"Good day, Granny,\" said the Princess; \"what are you doing?\"\n\n\"I am spinning,\" said the old woman, and nodded her head.\n\n\"What is the thing that whirls round so merrily?\" asked the Princess;\nand she took the spindle and tried to spin too.\n\nBut she had scarcely touched it before the curse was fulfilled, and she\npricked her finger with the spindle. The instant she felt the prick she\nfell upon the bed which was standing near, and lay still in a deep\nsleep which spread over the whole castle.\n\nThe King and Queen, who had just come home and had stepped into the\nhall, went to sleep, and all their courtiers with them. The horses went\nto sleep in the stable, the dogs in the yard, the doves on the roof, the\nflies on the wall; yes, even the fire flickering on the hearth grew\nstill and went to sleep, and the roast meat stopped crackling; and the\ncook, who was pulling the scullion's hair because he had made some\nmistake, let him go and went to sleep. And the wind dropped, and on the\ntrees in front of the castle not a leaf stirred.\n\nBut round the castle a hedge of brier roses began to grow up; every year\nit grew higher, till at last it surrounded the whole castle so that\nnothing could be seen of it, not even the flags on the roof.\n\nBut there was a legend in the land about the lovely sleeping Brier Rose,\nas the King's daughter was called, and from time to time princes came\nand tried to force a way through the hedge into the castle. But they\nfound it impossible, for the thorns, as though they had hands, held them\nfast, and the princes remained caught in them without being able to free\nthemselves, and so died a miserable death.\n\nAfter many, many years a prince came again to the country and heard an\nold man tell of the castle which stood behind the brier hedge, in which\na most beautiful maiden called Brier Rose had been asleep for the last\nhundred years, and with her slept the King, Queen, and all her\ncourtiers. He knew also, from his grandfather, that many princes had\nalready come and sought to pierce through the brier hedge, and had\nremained caught in it and died a sad death.\n\nThen the young Prince said: \"I am not afraid; I am determined to go and\nlook upon the lovely Brier Rose.\"\n\nThe good old man did all in his power to dissuade him, but the Prince\nwould not listen to his words.\n\nNow, however, the hundred years were just ended, and the day had come\nwhen Brier Rose was to wake up again. When the Prince approached the\nbrier hedge it was in blossom, and was covered with beautiful large\nflowers which made way for him of their own accord and let him pass\nunharmed, and then closed up again into a hedge behind him.\n\n[Illustration: \"AT LAST HE REACHED THE TOWER ... WHERE BRIER ROSE WAS\nASLEEP\"]\n\nIn the courtyard he saw the horses and dappled hounds lying asleep, on\nthe roof sat the doves with their heads under their wings, and when he\nwent into the house the flies were asleep on the walls, and near the\nthrone lay the King and Queen; in the kitchen was the cook, with his\nhand raised as though about to strike the scullion, and the maid sat\nwith the black fowl before her which she was about to pluck.\n\nHe went on farther, and all was so still that he could hear his own\nbreathing. At last he reached the tower, and opened the door into the\nlittle room where Brier Rose was asleep. There she lay, looking so\nbeautiful that he could not take his eyes off her; he bent down and gave\nher a kiss. As he touched her, Brier Rose opened her eyes and looked\nquite sweetly at him. Then they went down together; and the King and the\nQueen and all the courtiers woke up, and looked at each other with\nastonished eyes. The horses in the stable stood up and shook themselves,\nthe hounds leaped about and wagged their tails, the doves on the roof\nlifted their heads from under their wings, looked around, and flew into\nthe fields; the flies on the walls began to crawl again, the fire in the\nkitchen roused itself and blazed up and cooked the food, the meat began\nto crackle, and the cook boxed the scullion's ears so soundly that he\nscreamed aloud, while the maid finished plucking the fowl. Then the\nwedding of the Prince and Brier Rose was celebrated with all splendor,\nand they lived happily till they died.\n\n\n\n\n_The Iron Stove_\n\n\nONCE upon a time when wishes came true there was a king's son who was\nenchanted by an old witch, so that he was obliged to sit in a large iron\nstove in a wood. There he lived for many years, and no one could free\nhim. At last a king's daughter came into the wood; she had lost her\nway and could not find her father's kingdom again. She had been\nwandering round and round for nine days, and she came at last to the\niron stove. A voice came from within and asked her: \"Where do you come\nfrom and where do you want to go?\" She answered: \"I have lost my way to\nmy father's kingdom, and I shall never get home again.\" Then the voice\nfrom the iron stove said: \"I will help you to find your home again, and\nthat in a very short time, if you will promise to do what I ask you. I\nam a greater prince than you are a princess, and I will marry you.\" Then\nshe grew frightened and thought: \"What can a young lassie do with an\niron stove?\" But as she wanted very much to go home to her father, she\npromised to do what he wished. He said: \"You must come again, and bring\na knife with you to scrape a hole in the iron.\"\n\nThen he gave her some one for a guide, who walked near her and said\nnothing, but he brought her in two hours to her house. There was great\njoy in the castle when the Princess came back, and the old King fell on\nher neck and kissed her. But she was very much troubled and said: \"Dear\nfather, listen to what has befallen me. I should never have come home\nagain out of the great wildwood if I had not come to an iron stove, and\nI have had to promise that I will go back to free him and marry him!\"\nThe old King was so frightened that he nearly fainted, for she was his\nonly daughter. So they consulted together and determined that the\nmiller's daughter, who was very beautiful, should take her place. They\ntook her there, gave her a knife, and said she must scrape at the iron\nstove. She scraped for twenty-four hours, but did not make the least\nimpression. When the day broke a voice called from the iron stove: \"It\nseems to me that it is day outside.\" Then she answered: \"It seems so to\nme; I think I hear my father's mill rattling.\"\n\n\"So you are a miller's daughter! Then go away at once and tell the\nKing's daughter to come.\"\n\nThen she went away and told the old King that the thing inside the iron\nstove would not have her, but wanted the Princess. The old King was\nfrightened, and his daughter wept. But they had a swineherd's daughter\nwho was even more beautiful than the miller's daughter, and they gave\nher a piece of gold to go to the iron stove instead of the Princess.\nThen she was taken there and made to scrape for twenty-four hours, but\nshe could make no impression. As soon as the day broke the voice from\nthe stove called out: \"It seems to be daylight outside.\" Then she\nanswered: \"It seems so to me, too; I think I hear my father blowing his\nhorn.\" \"So you are a swineherd's daughter! Go away at once and let the\nKing's daughter come. And say to her that what I foretell shall come to\npass, and if she does not come everything in the kingdom shall fall into\nruin, and not one stone shall be left upon another.\" When the Princess\nheard this she began to cry, but it was no good; she had to keep her\nword. She took leave of her father, put a knife in her belt, and went to\nthe iron stove in the wood. As soon as she reached it she began to\nscrape and the iron gave way, and before two hours had passed she had\nmade a little hole. Then she peeped in and saw such a beautiful youth\nall shining with gold and precious stones that she fell in love with him\non the spot. So she scraped away harder than ever, and made the hole so\nlarge that he could get out. Then he said: \"You are mine and I am thine;\nyou are my bride and have set me free!\" He wanted to take her with him\nto his kingdom, but she begged him just to let her go once more to her\nfather; and the Prince let her go, but told her not to say more than\nthree words to her father, then to come back again. So she went home,\nbut, alas! she said more than three words; and immediately the iron\nstove vanished and went away over a mountain of glass and sharp swords.\nBut the Prince was free and was no longer shut up in it. Then she said\ngood-by to her father, and took a little money with her and went again\ninto the great wood to look for the iron stove; but she could not find\nit. She sought it for nine days, and then her hunger became so great\nthat she did not know how she could live any longer. And when it was\nevening she climbed a little tree and wished that the night would not\ncome, because she was afraid of the wild beasts. When midnight came she\nsaw afar off a little light and thought: \"Ah, if only I could reach\nthat!\" Then she got down from the tree and went toward the light. She\ncame to a little old house with a great deal of grass growing around,\nand stood in front of a little heap of wood. She thought, \"Alas! what am\nI coming to?\" and peeped through the window; but she saw nothing inside\nexcept big and little toads and a table beautifully spread with roast\nmeats and wine, and all the dishes and drinking cups were of silver, so\nshe took heart and knocked. Then a fat toad called out:\n\n \"Little green toad with leg like crook,\n Open wide the door, and look\n Who it was the latch that shook.\"\n\nAnd a little toad came forward and let her in. When she entered they all\nbade her welcome and made her sit down. They asked her how she came\nthere and what she wanted. Then she told everything that had happened to\nher, and how, because she had exceeded her permission only to speak\nthree words, the stove had disappeared with the Prince; and how she had\nsearched a very long time, and must wander over mountain and valley till\nshe found him.\n\nThen the old toad said:\n\n \"Little green toad whose leg doth twist,\n Go to the corner of which you wist,\n And bring to me the large old kist.\"\n\nAnd the little toad went and brought out a great chest. Then they gave\nher food and drink and led her to a beautifully made bed of silk and\nsamite, on which she lay down and slept soundly. When the day dawned she\narose, and the old toad gave her three things out of the huge chest to\ntake with her. She would have need of them, for she had to cross a high\nglass mountain, three cutting swords, and a great lake. When she had\npassed these she would find her lover again. So she was given three\nlarge needles, a plow wheel, and three nuts, which she was to take great\ncare of. She set out with these things, and when she came to the glass\nmountain which was so slippery, she stuck the three needles behind her\nfeet and then in front, and so got over it, and when she was on the\nother side put them carefully away.\n\nThen she reached the three cutting swords and got on her plow wheel and\nrolled over them. At last she came to a great lake, and when she had\ncrossed that arrived at a beautiful castle. She went in and gave herself\nout as a servant, a poor maid who would gladly be engaged. But she knew\nthat the Prince whom she had freed from the iron stove in the great wood\nwas in the castle. So she was taken on as a kitchen maid for very small\nwages. Now, the Prince was about to marry another princess, for he\nthought she was dead long ago.\n\nIn the evening, when she had washed up and was ready, she felt in her\npocket and found the three nuts which the old toad had given her. She\ncracked one and was going to eat the kernel, when behold! there was a\nbeautiful royal dress inside it. When the bride heard of this she came\nand begged for the dress and wanted to buy it, saying that it was not a\ndress for a serving maid. Then she said she would not sell it unless she\nwas granted one favor--namely, to sleep by the Prince's door. The bride\ngranted her this, because the dress was so beautiful and she had so few\nlike it. When it was evening she said to her bridegroom: \"That stupid\nmaid wants to sleep by your door.\"\n\n\"If you are contented, I am,\" he said. But she gave him a glass of wine\nin which she had poured a sleeping draught. Then they both went to their\nroom, but he slept so soundly that she could not wake him. The maid wept\nall night long and said: \"I freed you in the wildwood out of the iron\nstove. I have sought you and have crossed a glassy mountain, three sharp\nswords, and a great lake before I found you, and will you not hear me\nnow?\" The servants outside heard how she cried the whole night, and they\ntold their master in the morning.\n\nWhen she had washed up the next evening she bit the second nut, and\nthere was a still more beautiful dress inside. When the bride saw it she\nwanted to buy it also. But the maid did not want money and asked that\nshe should sleep again by the Prince's door. The bride, however, gave\nhim a sleeping draught, and he slept so soundly that he heard nothing.\nBut the kitchen maid wept the whole night long and said: \"I have freed\nyou in a wood and from an iron stove; I sought you and have crossed a\nglassy mountain, three sharp swords, and a great lake to find you, and\nnow you will not hear me!\" The servants outside heard how she cried the\nwhole night, and in the morning they told their master. And when she had\nwashed up on the third night she bit the third nut, and there was a\nstill more beautiful dress inside that was made of pure gold. When the\nbride saw it she wanted to have it, but the maid would only give it her\non condition that she should sleep for the third time by the Prince's\ndoor. But the Prince took care not to drink the sleeping draught. When\nshe began to weep and to say, \"Dearest sweetheart, I freed you in the\nhorrible wildwood and from an iron stove,\" he jumped up and said: \"Thou\nart right. Thou art mine and I am thine.\" Though it was still night, he\ngot into a carriage with her, and they took the false bride's clothes\naway, so that she could not follow them. When they came to the great\nlake they rowed across, and when they reached the three sharp swords\nthey sat on the plow wheel, and on the glassy mountain they stuck the\nthree needles in. So they arrived at last at the little old house, but\nwhen they stepped inside it turned into a large castle. The toads were\nall freed and were beautiful king's children running about for joy.\nThere they were married, and they remained in the castle, which was much\nlarger than that of the Princess's father. But because the old man did\nnot like being left alone they went and fetched him. So they had two\nkingdoms and lived in great wealth.\n\n \"A mouse has run,\n My story's done.\"\n\n\n\n\n_Rumpel-stilts-ken_\n\n\nBY the side of a wood, in a country a long way off, ran a fine stream of\nwater, and upon the stream there stood a mill. The miller's house was\nclose by, and the miller, you must know, had a very beautiful daughter.\nShe was, moreover, very shrewd and clever; and the miller was so proud\nof her that he one day told the King of the land, who used to come and\nhunt in the wood, that his daughter could spin gold out of straw. Now\nthis King was very fond of money, and when he heard the miller's boast\nhis greediness was roused, and he sent for the girl to be brought before\nhim. Then he led her to a chamber in his palace where there was a great\nheap of straw, and gave her a spinning wheel, and said: \"All this must\nbe spun into gold before morning, as you love your life.\" It was in vain\nthat the poor maiden said that it was only a silly boast of her father,\nfor that she could do no such thing as spin straw into gold. The chamber\ndoor was locked, and she was left alone.\n\nShe sat down in one corner of the room and began to bewail her hard\nfate, when on a sudden the door opened and a droll-looking little man\nhobbled in and said: \"Good morrow to you, my good lass; what are you\nweeping for?\" \"Alas!\" said she, \"I must spin this straw into gold, and I\nknow not how.\" \"What will you give me,\" said the hobgoblin, \"to do it\nfor you?\" \"My necklace,\" replied the maiden. He took her at her word and\nsat himself down to the wheel, and whistled and sang:\n\n \"Round about, round about,\n Lo and behold!\n Reel away, reel away,\n Straw into gold!\"\n\nAnd round about the wheel went merrily; the work was quickly done, and\nthe straw was all spun into gold.\n\nWhen the King came in and saw this he was greatly astonished and\npleased, but his heart grew still more greedy of gain, and he shut up\nthe poor miller's daughter again with a fresh task. Then she knew not\nwhat to do, and sat down once more to weep; but the dwarf soon opened\nthe door and said: \"What will you give me to do your task?\" \"The ring on\nmy finger,\" said she. So her little friend took the ring, and began to\nwork at the wheel again, and whistled and sang,\n\n \"Round about, round about,\n Lo and behold!\n Reel away, reel away,\n Straw into gold!\"\n\ntill, long before morning, all was done again.\n\nThe King was greatly delighted to see all this glittering treasure, but\nstill he had not enough, so he took the miller's daughter to a yet\nlarger heap and said: \"All this must be spun to-night; and if it is, you\nshall be my Queen.\" As soon as she was alone the dwarf came in and said:\n\"What will you give me to spin gold for you this third time?\" \"I have\nnothing left,\" said she. \"Then say you will give me,\" said the little\nman, \"the first little child that you may have when you are Queen.\" \"That\nmay never be,\" thought the miller's daughter, and as she knew no other\nway to get her task done she said she would do what he asked. Round went\nthe wheel again to the old song, and the manikin once more spun the heap\ninto gold. The King came in the morning, and, finding all he wanted, was\nforced to keep his word; so he married the miller's daughter, and she\nreally became Queen.\n\nAt the birth of her first little child she was very glad, and forgot the\ndwarf and what she had promised. But one day he came into her room,\nwhere she was sitting playing with her baby, and put her in mind of it.\nThen she grieved sorely at her misfortune, and said she would give him\nall the wealth of the kingdom if he would let her off, but in vain; till\nat last her tears softened him and he said: \"I will give you three days'\ngrace, and, if during that time you tell me my name, you shall keep your\nchild.\"\n\nNow the Queen lay awake all night, thinking of all the odd names that\nshe had ever heard, and she sent messengers all over the land to find\nout new ones. The next day the little man came, and she began with\nTIMOTHY, ICHABOD, BENJAMIN, JEREMIAH, and all the names she could\nremember; but to all and each of them he said: \"Madam, that is not my\nname.\"\n\nThe second day she began with all the comical names she could hear of,\nBANDY LEGS, HUNCHBACK, CROOK SHANKS, and so on; but the little gentleman\nstill said to every one of them: \"Madam, that is not my name.\"\n\nThe third day one of the messengers came back and said: \"I traveled two\ndays without hearing of any other names; but yesterday, as I was\nclimbing a high hill, among the trees of the forest where the fox and\nthe hare bid each other good night, I saw a little hut; and before the\nhut burned a fire; and round about the fire a funny little dwarf was\ndancing upon one leg, and singing:\n\n \"'Merrily the feast I'll make,\n To-day I'll brew, to-morrow bake;\n Merrily I'll dance and sing,\n For next day will a stranger bring.\n Little does my lady dream\n Rumpel-stilts-ken is my name!'\"\n\nWhen the Queen heard this she jumped for joy, and as soon as her little\nfriend came she sat down upon her throne and called all her court around\nto enjoy the fun; and the nurse stood by her side with the baby in her\narms, as if it was quite ready to be given up. Then the little man began\nto chuckle at the thoughts of having the poor child to take home with\nhim to his hut in the woods, and he cried out: \"Now, lady, what is my\nname?\" \"Is it JOHN?\" asked she. \"No, madam!\" \"Is it TOM?\" \"No, madam!\"\n\"Is it JEMMY?\" \"It is not.\" \"Can your name be RUMPEL-STILTS-KEN?\" said\nthe lady slyly. \"Some witch told you that!--some witch told you that!\"\ncried the little man, and dashed his right foot in a rage so deep into\nthe floor, that he was forced to lay hold of it with both hands to pull\nit out.\n\nThen he made the best of his way off, while the nurse laughed and the\nbaby crowed; and all the court jeered at him for having had so much\ntrouble for nothing, and said: \"We wish you a very good morning, and a\nmerry feast, Mr. RUMPEL-STILTS-KEN!\"\n\n\n\n\n_Faithful John, the King's Servant_\n\n\nTHE old King lay dying and was very much worried in his mind because he\nwas leaving behind him, as his heir, his son, who was a headstrong and\nwillful youth, not yet come to years of wisdom. He called to his bedside\nfaithful John, who had been his servant ever since he was a boy, and\ncharged him thus:\n\n\"I am going to my last rest, and am sorrowful because my boy is left\nalone in a high position, and will have no other guidance but yours. Be\nhis guardian and counselor, and serve him faithfully even as you have\nserved me, or I cannot die happily.\"\n\n\"Master, I will,\" answered faithful John, \"even if it cost me my life.\"\n\n\"Now I can rest in peace,\" said the King. \"When I am dead you must lead\nhim all over the castle, and show him the halls and chambers and the\nvaults and the treasures therein. But one room he must never enter, the\nlast room in the long corridor, for there hangs the portrait of the\ndaughter of the King of the Golden Palace, and she is so beautiful that\nwhoever gazes on her picture will fall down in a swoon for love of her,\nand will go through great perils for her sake. Therefore he must never\nenter that room.\"\n\nThe trusty servant pressed his master's hand and promised to do his\ncommands, and soon afterwards the King laid his head on the pillow and\ndied.\n\nAfter the old King was laid in his grave, the faithful John told the\nyoung King of the commands his father had laid upon him, and swore to\nserve him faithfully, even unto death.\n\nWhen the days of mourning were over he told the young King that it was\nnow time for him to see his inheritance; so they went all over the\ncastle, up into the towers and down into the vaults, and saw all the\ngreat treasure the old King had collected; and they went into all the\ngrand halls and splendid chambers, into all save one--the last room at\nthe end of the long corridor, wherein hung the portrait.\n\nThe King noticed that they always passed this door, and asked John why.\n\n\"There is something there that it is dangerous to see,\" said John.\n\n\"But,\" answered the King, \"I have seen everything else that I possess,\nand you must not imagine I am going away without seeing this.\"\n\nFaithful John tried to argue him out of it, but it was of no use, and\nthe obstinate King even made an effort to force the door open, and\ndeclared that he would not leave the spot till he had seen the contents\nof the chamber.\n\nSo John, seeing that there was nothing for it but to yield, sorrowfully\ntook the key from the bunch and put it in the lock. He turned it\nsuddenly and hurried in, hoping to cover over the portrait before the\nKing saw it; but he was close on his heels, and John was too late to\nprevent the catastrophe, for no sooner had his master set eyes on the\nwonderful painting, which appeared to be living, breathing flesh, than\nhe fell on the floor in a swoon.\n\nPoor John carried him tenderly to his bed, deeply bewailing the\nmisfortune that had come upon them, and by dint of forcing wine down his\nthroat he brought him round again. The first words that he uttered were:\n\n\"Who is the lady of the beautiful picture?\"\n\n\"She is the daughter of the King of the Golden Palace,\" replied John.\n\n\"Then,\" said the King, \"we must seek her at once, for I am filled with\nso great a love for her that if all the leaves on the trees had tongues\nthey should not gainsay it.\"\n\nThen trusty John thought for a long, long time as how to set about the\nmatter, for it was very difficult to reach the presence of the beautiful\nPrincess. At last he thought of a plan, and he said to the King:\n\n\"I have thought of a way by which you may achieve your end; all the\nthings the Princess uses, and all the things about her, are\ngold--chairs, tables, dishes, pots and pans, all are fashioned of gold.\nThere are five tons of gold bars in your cellars; you must have them\nwrought into articles of every kind, even into beasts and flowers, and\nthen we will set out and seek her favor.\"\n\nSo the King sent for all the goldsmiths in the kingdom, and they worked\nday and night till all the gold was made into most wonderful and\nbeautiful forms of the finest workmanship. Then they took them all\naboard a great ship and set sail. They sailed for many days, till they\ncame to the city where dwelt the daughter of the King of the Golden\nPalace.\n\nThe faithful John had decided that it was better for him to go ashore,\nso he told the King to remain on board and have all things in readiness,\nthe treasures displayed and all in order, lest he should bring the\nPrincess back with him. Then he tied up some of the smaller things in a\nhandkerchief and rowed ashore.\n\nWhen he entered the courtyard of the palace, he saw a beautiful girl\nfilling two golden pails at the well. When they were full she turned,\nand, perceiving the stranger, demanded his business. So he untied the\nhandkerchief and showed her the dainty trinkets. She was delighted with\nthem, and at once said:\n\n\"The Princess must see these, for she has a passion for golden things,\nand will, no doubt, buy them all.\" So she took him by the hand and led\nhim to the King's daughter. The Princess was even more beautiful than\nreport had made her, and John was dazzled. The lady was very gracious to\nhim, and was charmed with his treasures, which she wished to purchase.\nBut John said:\n\n\"I am only a servant. My master is a rich merchant who has even more\nbeautiful things than these aboard his ship.\"\n\n\"Let them be brought hither,\" replied the Princess; but he said:\n\n\"That would take many days and nights, their number is so vast, and even\nif they were all brought hither there is no room in the palace large\nenough to show them to advantage.\"\n\nThe Princess's curiosity was very much excited by this time, and she\nsaid:\n\n\"Bring me to the ship, and I will see them there.\"\n\nFaithful John was overjoyed at the success of his plans, and conducted\nher thither immediately. When the King saw her, he was so overcome with\nher beauty that he could hardly help her aboard, but he managed to\ncontrol the violent beatings of his heart, and led her down into the\ncabin. John remained on deck, and commanded the helmsman to steer out to\nsea, and put on all the sail he could, so that they might leave the land\nfar behind.\n\nDown below the Princess was enjoying herself immensely, looking at all\nthe beautiful and curious things, and several hours passed before she\nbethought her that it was time to go ashore. So she went on deck\nprepared to land immediately, and behold! no land was to be seen,\nnothing but the wide sea all around her.\n\n\"Ah!\" she screamed, in sudden terror, \"I am entrapped by a strange\nmerchant. I would rather die than remain in his power!\"\n\nThe King reassured her, and taking her hand he said: \"I am no merchant,\nI am a king of royal blood like yourself. I have carried you off because\nmy love for you is so great that I cannot live without you. You must\nknow that when I saw your portrait, I was so stricken with love for you\nthat I fell in a swoon before it.\"\n\nWhen the King's daughter heard this her fear disappeared, and love grew\nin its place and she was willing to be his bride.\n\nOne day, when John was sitting on deck piping sweet music, three crows\nflew over the ship, talking hard all the time. John understood every\nword they said, and this is what he heard:\n\n\"There he is, sailing home with the daughter of the King of the Golden\nPalace,\" said the first. \"Ah! they are not home yet,\" said the second.\n\"But she is with him in the ship,\" said the third. \"What matters that?\"\nbegan the first again; \"when they land there will come a beautiful\nfox-colored horse, and he will spring upon it and the horse will bound\naway with him up into the air and he will never be seen again.\"\n\n\"But is there no way to save him?\" the second one asked.\n\n\"Yes, if one springs up quickly behind him and seizes the pistols which\nare in the holsters and shoots the fox-colored horse, then the King will\nbe saved. But nobody knows, and if one knew and told him, he would be\nturned into stone from toe to knee.\"\n\nThen the second crow spoke again:\n\n\"I know still more, for even if the horse be shot he will not keep his\nlovely bride. When they arrive at the castle a bridal shirt will be\nbrought to him on a dish, looking as though it were made of silver and\ngold, but it is only sulphur and pitch, and when he puts it on he will\nbe burned to the marrow of his bones.\"\n\n\"Is there no way to save him?\" asked the third crow.\n\n\"Oh, yes! if one were to take up the shirt with his gloves on and throw\nit on the fire before the King touches it, he will be saved. But what\nmatter? for no one knows that, and if one knew and were to tell, he\nwould be turned into stone from his knee to his heart.\"\n\nThen the third crow spoke again:\n\n\"I know even more. Even if the shirt be burned the King will not keep\nhis bride. After supper a dance will be held, and suddenly, when she is\ndancing, the Queen will turn pale and fall in a faint; and if some one\ndoes not raise her up and take three drops of blood from her little\nfinger and throw them away, she will die. But if anyone knows that and\ntells it, he will be turned into stone from the crown of his head to the\ntoes of his feet.\"\n\nThen the crows flew away, leaving John very quiet and sad; for if he\nconcealed what he knew, misfortune would fall upon his master, and if he\ntold, he must lose his own life; but he decided that whatever happened\nto himself he must save his master.\n\nWhen they landed it happened just as the crows had said, and a beautiful\nfox-colored horse appeared in front of the King. He exclaimed with\npleasure:\n\n\"Splendid! this shall carry us to the castle.\" And he sprang into the\nsaddle.\n\nBut John sprang up after him, and finding the pistols, shot the horse\ndead. The other servants who were jealous of John, began to grumble at\nthis, and said:\n\n\"Shame to kill such a lovely animal, which was fit to bear the King!\"\n\nBut the King said:\n\n\"Peace; be silent. He is my faithful servant and I trust him. Who knows\nwhat he has saved us from?\"\n\nThen they went on to the castle, and in the hall it happened just as it\nhad been foretold--a beautiful bridal shirt was brought to the King. He\nwas just about to pick it up and put it on when John threw himself in\nfront of him, and seizing the shirt, carried it to the fire and burned\nit.\n\nAgain the other servants set up a murmur:\n\n\"What is he about? See, he has burned the bridal shirt!\"\n\nBut the King silenced them and said:\n\n\"He is my faithful John, and I trust him. Who knows what danger he has\naverted?\"\n\nAfter the wedding supper a grand ball was given, and John watched the\nQueen very carefully while she danced. Suddenly he saw her turn pale and\nfall in a faint. He hurried toward her, and lifting her up he carried\nher away to her chamber. Then he knelt down, and drawing three drops of\nblood from her little finger he threw them away. Soon the Queen stirred,\nand then sat up, quite herself again. But the King had watched all this,\nand this time he was furiously angry with faithful John, and ordered him\nto be thrown into prison. Next day he was brought to trial and condemned\nto be hanged at the gallows. When he was about to be executed he asked\nfor the usual privilege of a condemned prisoner, to speak once what was\nin his mind. The King granted it, and faithful John began:\n\n\"I am innocent of any crime against you, and have always served you\nfaithfully.\"\n\nThen he told what he had heard the crows saying at sea; and how he had\ndone all these things to save his master's life.\n\nThen the King cried: \"Pardon, pardon, my faithful friend; you are\ninnocent!\"\n\nBut at the last word he had spoken John had fallen down, turned into\nstone.\n\nAfter this there was great sorrow and lamentation in the palace, and\nthey had the statue raised and taken to their chamber and placed near\nthe bed, and often the King looked at it and said:\n\n\"Ah! my trusty John, could I but bring you back to life again!\"\n\nSome time afterwards, to their great joy, twins were born to them, two\nhealthy boys. One day the Queen was at church and the King was at home\nplaying with his children, when he looked up at the statue and said:\n\n\"Ah, my poor faithful John, what would I not do to bring you back to\nlife!\"\n\nTo his surprise the statue answered him and said:\n\n\"If you will sacrifice what is dearest to you, you can restore my life\nto me.\"\n\n\"I will do anything in the world for you, only tell me what,\" answered\nthe King.\n\nThen the statue spoke again:\n\n\"Cut off the heads of your children, and sprinkle me with their blood,\nand I will be restored to life.\"\n\nThe poor King was horrified when he heard this, for how could he do such\nan awful deed as to kill his own children? But he thought of all John\nhad done for him, and how much he had sacrificed, and, without\nflinching, he drew his sword to cut off their heads.\n\nBut as he was about to kill the little princes, faithful John became\nalive again, crying:\n\n\"Stop, stop, my master! Your faith in me is rewarded, and I am free.\"\n\nThe King was now as happy as he could be, and he thought to give his\nwife a pleasant surprise; so when he heard her coming he hid faithful\nJohn and the twins in a cupboard. When she came in he asked her if she\nhad prayed for all her friends.\n\n\"Yes,\" she answered; \"but I have been thinking of poor John, who is past\nour prayers.\"\n\nThen the King said:\n\n\"We can restore him to life again, but we must sacrifice both our sons.\"\n\nThe Queen turned very pale at this and nearly fainted; but she thought\nof how it was their fault that John had suffered, and she said bravely\nthat if it was to restore him to life it must be done.\n\nThe King was overjoyed to find that she thought as he did, and he threw\nopen the cupboard door and disclosed, not only the twins, but faithful\nJohn also. Then they all rejoiced and were happy together to the end of\ntheir days.\n\n\n\n\n_Spindle, Shuttle, and Needle_\n\n\nONCE upon a time there lived a girl who lost her father and mother when\nshe was quite a tiny child. Her godmother lived all alone in a little\ncottage at the far end of the village, and there she earned her living\nby spinning, weaving, and sewing. The old woman took the little orphan\nhome with her and brought her up in good, pious, industrious habits.\n\nWhen the girl was fifteen years old her godmother fell ill, and calling\nthe child to her bedside she said: \"My dear daughter, I feel that my end\nis near. I leave you my cottage, which will, at least, shelter you, and\nalso my spindle, my weaver's shuttle, and my needle, with which to earn\nyour bread.\"\n\nThen she laid her hands on the girl's head, blessed her, and added:\n\"Mind and be good, and then all will go well with you.\" With that she\nclosed her eyes for the last time, and when she was carried to her grave\nthe girl walked behind her coffin weeping bitterly and paid her all the\nlast honors.\n\nAfter this the girl lived all alone in the little cottage. She worked\nhard, spinning, weaving, and sewing, and her old godmother's blessing\nseemed to prosper all she did. The flax seemed to spread and increase;\nand when she wove a carpet or a piece of linen, or made a shirt, she was\nsure to find a customer who paid her well, so that not only did she feel\nno want herself, but she was able to help those who did.\n\nNow, it happened that about this time the King's son was making a tour\nthrough the entire country to look out for a bride. He could not marry a\npoor woman and he did not wish for a rich one.\n\n\"She shall be my wife,\" said he, \"who is at once the poorest and the\nrichest.\"\n\nWhen he reached the village where the girl lived he inquired who was the\nrichest and who the poorest woman in it. The richest was named first;\nthe poorest, he was told, was a young girl who lived alone in a little\ncottage at the far end of the village.\n\nThe rich girl sat at her door dressed in all her best clothes, and when\nthe King's son came near she got up, went to meet him, and made him a\nlow courtesy. He looked well at her, said nothing, but rode on farther.\n\nWhen he reached the poor girl's house he did not find her at her door,\nfor she was at work in her room. The Prince reined in his horse, looked\nin at the window through which the sun was shining brightly, and saw the\ngirl sitting at her wheel busily spinning away.\n\n[Illustration: \"JUST AS IT HAD COME TO THE END OF THE GOLDEN THREAD IT\nREACHED THE KING'S SON\"]\n\nShe looked up, and when she saw the King's son gazing in at her she\nblushed red all over, cast down her eyes, and spun on. Whether the\nthread was quite as even as usual I really cannot say, but she went on\nspinning till the King's son had ridden off. Then she stepped to the\nwindow and opened the lattice, saying, \"The room is so hot,\" but she\nlooked after him as long as she could see the white plumes of his hat.\n\nThen she sat down to her work once more and spun on, and as she did so\nan old saying, which she had often heard her godmother repeat while at\nwork, came into her head, and she began to sing:\n\n \"Spindle, spindle, go and see\n If my love will come to me.\"\n\nLo and behold! the spindle leaped from her hand and rushed out of the\nroom, and when she had sufficiently recovered from her surprise to look\nafter it she saw it dancing merrily through the fields, dragging a long\ngolden thread after it, and soon it was lost to sight.\n\nThe girl, having lost her spindle, took up the shuttle and, seating\nherself at her loom, began to weave. Meantime the spindle danced on and\non, and just as it had come to the end of the golden thread it reached\nthe King's son.\n\n\"What do I see?\" he cried. \"This spindle seems to wish to point out the\nway to me.\" So he turned his horse's head and rode back beside the\ngolden thread.\n\nMeantime the girl sat weaving and sang:\n\n \"Shuttle, weave both web and woof;\n Bring my love beneath my roof.\"\n\nThe shuttle instantly escaped from her hand and with one bound was out\nat the door. On the threshold it began weaving the loveliest carpet that\nwas ever seen. Roses and lilies bloomed on both sides, and in the\ncenter a thicket seemed to grow with rabbits and hares running through\nit, stags and fawns peeping through the branches, while on the topmost\nboughs sat birds of brilliant plumage and so lifelike one almost\nexpected to hear them sing. The shuttle flew from side to side and the\ncarpet seemed almost to grow of itself.\n\nAs the shuttle had run away the girl sat down to sew. She took her\nneedle and sang:\n\n \"Needle, needle, stitch away;\n Make my chamber bright and gay.\"\n\nAnd the needle promptly slipped from her fingers and flew about the room\nlike lightning. You would have thought invisible spirits were at work,\nfor in next to no time the table and benches were covered with green\ncloth, the chairs with velvet, and elegant silk curtains hung before the\nwindows. The needle had barely put in its last stitch when the girl,\nglancing at the window, spied the white-plumed hat of the King's son,\nwho was being led back by the spindle with the golden thread.\n\nHe dismounted and walked over the carpet into the house, and when he\nentered the room there stood the girl blushing like any rose. \"You are\nthe poorest and yet the richest,\" said he. \"Come with me--you shall be\nmy bride.\"\n\nShe said nothing but she held out her hand. Then he kissed her and led\nher out, lifted her on his horse, and took her to his royal palace,\nwhere the wedding was celebrated with great rejoicings.\n\nThe spindle, the shuttle, and the needle were carefully placed in the\ntreasury and were always held in the very highest honor.\n\n\n\n\n_The Magic Egg_\n\n\nTHERE was once upon a time a lark who was the Czar among the birds, and\nhe took unto himself as his Czaritsa a little shrew mouse. They had a\nfield all to themselves, which they sowed with wheat, and when the wheat\ngrew up they divided it between them. When they found that there was one\ngrain over, the mouse said:\n\n\"Let me have it!\"\n\nBut the lark said:\n\n\"No, let me have it!\"\n\n\"What's to be done?\" thought they.\n\nThey would have liked to take counsel of some one; but they had no\nparents or kinsmen--nobody at all to whom they could go and ask advice\nin the matter. At last the mouse said:\n\n\"At any rate, let me have the first nibble!\"\n\nThe lark Czar agreed to this; but the little mouse fastened her teeth in\nit, and ran off into her hole with it, and there ate it all up. At this\nthe lark Czar was wroth, and collected all the birds of the air to make\nwar upon the mouse Czaritsa; but the Czaritsa called together all the\nbeasts to defend her, and so the war began. Whenever the beasts came\nrushing out of the wood to tear the birds to pieces, the birds flew up\ninto the trees; but the birds kept in the air, and hacked and pecked the\nbeasts wherever they could. Thus they fought the whole day, and in the\nevening they lay down to rest. Now when the Czaritsa looked around upon\nher forces she saw that the ant was taking no part in the war. She\nimmediately went and commanded the ant to be there by evening, and when\nthe ant came the Czaritsa ordered her to climb up the trees with her\nkinsmen, and bite off the feathers around the birds' wings.\n\nNext day, when there was light enough to see by, the mouse Czaritsa\ncried:\n\n\"Up, up, my warriors!\"\n\nThereupon the birds also rose up, and immediately fell to the ground,\nwhere the beasts tore them to bits. So the Czaritsa overcame the Czar.\nBut there was one eagle who saw there was something wrong, so he did not\ntry to fly, but remained sitting on the tree. And lo! there came an\narcher along that way, and seeing the eagle on the tree, he took aim at\nit; but the eagle besought him and said:\n\n\"Do not kill me, and I'll be of great service to thee!\"\n\nThe archer aimed a second time, but the eagle besought him still more\nand said:\n\n\"Take me down rather and keep me, and thou shalt see that it will be to\nthy advantage.\"\n\nThe archer, however, took aim a third time, but the eagle began to beg\nof him most piteously:\n\n\"Nay, kill me not, but take me home with thee, and thou shalt see what\ngreat advantage it will be to thee!\"\n\nThe archer believed the bird. He climbed up the tree, took the eagle\ndown, and carried it home. Then the eagle said to him:\n\n\"Put me in a hut, and feed me with flesh till my wings have grown\nagain.\"\n\nNow this archer had two cows and a steer, and he at once killed and cut\nup one of the cows for the eagle. The eagle fed upon this cow for a full\nyear, and then he said to the archer:\n\n\"Let me go, that I may fly. I see that my wings have already grown\nagain!\"\n\nThen the archer let him loose from the hut. The eagle flew around and\naround, he flew about for half a day, and then he returned to the archer\nand said:\n\n\"I feel I have but little strength in me, slay me another cow!\"\n\nAnd the archer obeyed him, and slew the second cow, and the eagle lived\nupon that for yet another year. Again the eagle flew around and around\nin the air. He flew around and about the whole day till evening, when he\nreturned to the archer and said:\n\n\"I am stronger than I was, but I have still but little strength in me,\nslay me the steer also!\"\n\nThen the man thought to himself:\n\n\"What shall I do? Shall I slay it, or shall I not slay it?\"\n\nAt last he said:\n\n\"Well! I've sacrificed more than this before, so let this go too!\" and\nhe took the steer and slaughtered it for the eagle.\n\nThen the eagle lived upon this for another whole year longer, and after\nthat he took to flight, and flew high up right to the very clouds. Then\nhe flew down again to the man and said to him:\n\n\"I thank thee, brother, for that thou hast been the saving of me! come\nnow and sit upon me!\"\n\n\"Nay, but,\" said the man, \"what if some evil befall me?\"\n\n\"Sit on me, I say!\" cried the eagle.\n\nSo the archer sat down upon the bird.\n\nThen the eagle bore him nearly as high as the big clouds, and then let\nhim fall. Down plumped the man; but the eagle did not let him fall to\nthe earth, but swiftly flew beneath him and upheld him, and said to him:\n\n\"How dost thou feel now?\"\n\n\"I feel,\" said the man, \"as if I had no life in me.\"\n\nThen the eagle replied:\n\n\"That was just how I felt when thou didst aim at me the first time.\"\n\nThen he said to him:\n\n\"Sit on my back again!\"\n\nThe man did not want to sit on him, but what could he do? Sit he must.\nThen the eagle flew with him quite as high as the big clouds, and shook\nhim off, and down he fell headlong till he was about two fathoms from\nthe ground, when the bird again flew beneath him and held him up. Again\nthe eagle asked him:\n\n\"How dost thou feel?\"\n\nAnd the man replied:\n\n\"I feel just as if all my bones were already broken to bits!\"\n\n\"That is just how I felt when thou didst take aim at me the second\ntime,\" replied the eagle. \"But now sit on my back once more.\"\n\nThe man did so, and the eagle flew with him as high as the small fleecy\nclouds, and then he shook him off, and down he fell headlong; but when\nhe was but a hand's breadth from the earth, the eagle again flew beneath\nhim and held him up, and said to him:\n\n\"How dost thou feel now?\"\n\nAnd he replied:\n\n\"I feel as if I no longer belonged to this world!\"\n\n\"That is just how I felt when thou didst aim at me the third time,\"\nreplied the eagle. \"But now,\" continued the bird, \"thou art guilty no\nmore. We are quits. I owe thee naught, and thou owest naught to me; so\nsit on my back again, and I'll take thee to my master.\"\n\nThey flew on and on, they flew till they came to the eagle's uncle. And\nthe eagle said to the archer:\n\n\"Go to my house, and when they ask thee: 'Hast thou not seen our poor\nchild?' reply, 'Give me the magic egg, and I'll bring him before your\neyes!'\"\n\nSo he went to the house, and there they said to him:\n\n\"Hast thou heard of our poor child with thine ears, or seen him with\nthine eyes, and hast thou come hither willingly or unwillingly?\"\n\nAnd he answered:\n\n\"I have come hither willingly!\"\n\nThen they asked:\n\n\"Hast thou smelt out anything of our poor youngster? for it is three\nyears now since he went to the wars, and there's neither sight nor sound\nof him more!\"\n\nAnd he answered:\n\n\"Give me the magic egg, and I'll bring him straightway before your\neyes!\"\n\nThen they replied:\n\n\"'Twere better we never saw him than that we should give thee the magic\negg!\"\n\nThen he went back to the eagle and said to him:\n\n\"They said: 'Twere better we never saw him than that we should give thee\nthe magic egg.'\"\n\nThen the eagle answered:\n\n\"Let us fly on farther!\"\n\nThey flew on and on till they came to the eagle's brother, and the\narcher said just the same to him as he had said to the eagle's uncle,\nand still he didn't get the egg. Then they flew to the eagle's father,\nand the eagle said to him:\n\n\"Go up to the hut, and if they ask for me, say that thou hast seen me\nand will bring me before their eyes.\"\n\nSo he went up to the hut, and they said to him:\n\n\"O Czarevich, we hear thee with our ears and see thee with our eyes, but\nhast thou come hither of thine own free will or by the will of another?\"\n\nAnd the archer answered:\n\n\"I have come hither of my own free will!\"\n\nThen they asked him:\n\n\"Hast thou seen our son? Lo, these four years we have not had news of\nhim. He went off to the wars, and perchance he has been slain there.\"\n\nAnd he answered them:\n\n\"I have seen him, and if thou wilt give me the magic egg, I will bring\nhim before your eyes.\"\n\nAnd the eagle's father said to him:\n\n\"What good will such a thing do thee? We had better give thee the lucky\npenny!\"\n\nBut he answered:\n\n\"I don't want the lucky penny, give me the magic egg!\"\n\n\"Come hither, then!\" said he, \"and thou shalt have it.\"\n\nSo he went into the hut. Then the eagle's father rejoiced and gave him\nthe egg and said to him:\n\n\"Take heed thou dost not break it anywhere on the road, and when thou\ngettest home, hedge it around and build a strong fence about it, and it\nwill do thee good.\"\n\nSo he went homeward. He went on and on till a great thirst came upon\nhim. So he stopped at the first spring he came to, and as he stooped to\ndrink he stumbled and the magic egg was broken. Then he perceived that\nan ox had come out of the egg and was rolling away. He gave chase to the\nox, but whenever he was getting close to one side of it, the other side\nof it got farther away from him. Then the poor fellow cried:\n\n\"I shall do nothing with it myself, I see.\"\n\nAt that moment an old she dragon came up to him and said:\n\n\"What wilt thou give me, O man, if I chase this ox back again into the\negg for thee?\"\n\nAnd the archer replied:\n\n\"What can I give?\"\n\nThe dragon said to him:\n\n\"Give me what thou hast at home without thy will and wit!\"\n\n\"Done!\" said the archer.\n\nThen the dragon chased the ox nicely into the egg again, patched it up\nprettily, and gave it into the man's hand. Then the archer went home,\nand when he got home he found a son had been born to him there, and his\nson said to him:\n\n\"Why didst thou give me to the old she dragon, dad? But never mind, I'll\nmanage to live in spite of her.\"\n\nThen the father was very grieved for a time, but what could he do? Now\nthe name of this son was Ivan.\n\nSo Ivan lost no time in going to the dragon, and the dragon said to him:\n\n\"Go to my house and do me three tasks, and if thou dost them not, I'll\ndevour thee.\"\n\nNow around the dragon's house was a large meadow stretching as far as\nthe eye could reach. And the dragon said to him:\n\n\"Thou must in a single night weed out this field and sow wheat in it,\nand reap the wheat and store it, all in this very night; and thou must\nbake me a roll out of this selfsame wheat, and the roll must be lying\nready for me on my table in the morning.\"\n\nThen Ivan went and leaned over the fence, and his heart within him was\nsore troubled. Now near to him there was a post, and on this post was\nthe dragon's starveling daughter. So when he came thither and fell\na-weeping, she asked him:\n\n\"Wherefore dost thou weep?\"\n\nAnd he said: \"How can I help weeping? The dragon has bidden me do\nsomething I can never, never do; and what is more, she has bidden me do\nit in a single night.\"\n\n\"What is it, pray?\" asked the dragon's daughter. Then he told her.\n\n\"Not every bush bears a berry!\" cried she. \"Promise to take me to wife,\nand I'll do all she has bidden thee do.\"\n\nHe promised, and then she said to him again:\n\n\"Now go and lie down, but see that thou art up early in the morning to\nbring her her roll.\"\n\nThen she went to the field, and before one could whistle she had cleaned\nit of weeds and harrowed it and sown it with wheat, and by dawn she had\nreaped the wheat and cooked the roll and brought it to him, and said:\n\n\"Now, take it to her hut and put it on her table.\"\n\nThen the old she dragon awoke and came to the door, and was amazed at\nthe sight of the field, which was now all stubble, for the corn had been\ncut. Then she said to Ivan:\n\n\"Yes, thou hast done the work well. But now, see that thou doest my\nsecond task.\"\n\nThen she gave him her second command:\n\n\"Dig up that mountain yonder and let the Dnieper flow past the site of\nit, and there build a storehouse, and in the storehouse stack the wheat\nthat thou hast reaped, and sell this wheat to the merchant barques that\nsail by, and everything must be done by the time I get up early next\nmorning!\"\n\nThen he again went to the fence and wept, and the maiden said to him:\n\n\"Why dost thou weep?\" and he told her all that the she dragon had bidden\nhim do.\n\n\"There are lots of bushes, but where are the berries? Go and lie down,\nand I'll do it all for thee.\"\n\nThen she whistled, and the mountain was leveled and the Dnieper flowed\nover the site of it, and round about the Dnieper, storehouses rose up,\nand then she came and woke him that he might go and sell the wheat to\nthe merchant barques that sailed by that way, and when the she dragon\nrose up early in the morning she was amazed to see that everything had\nbeen done which she had commanded him.\n\nThen she gave him her third command:\n\n\"This night thou must catch the golden hare, and bring it to me by the\nmorning light.\"\n\nAgain he went to the fence and fell a-weeping. And the girl asked him:\n\n\"Why art thou weeping?\"\n\nHe said to her: \"She has ordered me to catch her the golden hare.\"\n\n\"Oh, oh!\" cried the she dragon's daughter, \"the berries are ripening\nnow; only her father knows how to catch such a hare as that.\nNevertheless, I'll go to a rocky place I know of, and there perchance we\nshall be able to catch it.\"\n\nSo they went to this rocky place together, and she said to him:\n\n\"Stand over that hole. I'll go in and chase him out of the hole, and\nthou catch him as he comes out; but mind, whatever comes out of the\nhole, seize it, for it will be the golden hare.\"\n\nSo she went and began beating up, and all at once out came a snake and\nhissed, and he let it go. Then she came out of the hole and said to him:\n\n\"What! has nothing come out?\"\n\n\"Well,\" said he, \"only a snake, and I was afraid it would bite me, so I\nlet it go.\"\n\n\"What hast thou done?\" said she; \"that was the very hare itself. Look\nnow!\" said she, \"I'll go in again, and if anyone comes out and tells you\nthat the golden hare is not here, don't believe it, but hold him fast.\"\n\nSo she crept into the hole again and began to beat for game, and out\ncame an old woman, who said to the youth:\n\n\"What art thou poking about there for?\"\n\nAnd he said to her: \"For the golden hare.\"\n\nShe said to him: \"It is not here, for this is a snake's hole,\" and when\nshe had said this she went away. Presently the girl also came out and\nsaid to him:\n\n\"What! hast thou not got the hare? Did nothing come out, then?\"\n\n\"No,\" said he, \"nothing but an old woman who asked me what I was\nseeking, and I told her the golden hare, and she said, 'It is not here,'\nso I let her go.\"\n\nThen the girl replied: \"Why didst thou not lay hold of her? for she was\nthe very golden hare itself, and now thou never wilt catch it unless I\nturn myself into a hare and thou take and lay me on the table, and give\nme into my mother's, the she dragon's hands, and go away, for if she\nfind out all about it she will tear the pair of us to pieces.\"\n\nSo she changed herself into a hare, and he took and laid her on the\ntable, and said to the she dragon:\n\n\"There's thy hare for thee, and now let me go away!\"\n\nShe said to him: \"Very well--be off!\"\n\nThen he set off running, and he ran and ran as hard as he could. Soon\nafter the old she dragon discovered that it was not the golden hare, but\nher own daughter, so she set about chasing after them and destroying\nthem both, for the daughter had made haste in the meantime to join Ivan.\nBut as the she dragon couldn't run herself, she sent her husband, and he\nbegan chasing them and they knew he was coming, for they felt the earth\ntrembling beneath his tread. Then the she dragon's daughter said to\nIvan:\n\n\"I hear him running after us. I'll turn myself into standing wheat and\nthee into an old man guarding me, and if he ask thee, 'Hast thou seen a\nlad and a lass pass by this way?' say to him: 'Yes, they passed by this\nway while I was sowing this wheat!'\"\n\nA little while afterwards the she dragon's husband came flying up.\n\n\"Have a lad and a lass passed by this way?\" said he.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the old man, \"they have.\"\n\n\"Was it long ago?\" asked the she dragon's husband.\n\n\"It was while this wheat was being sown,\" replied the old man.\n\n\"Oh!\" thought the serpent, \"this wheat is ready for the sickle; they\ncouldn't have been this way yesterday.\"\n\nSo he turned back. Then the she dragon's daughter turned herself back\ninto a maiden and the old man into a youth, and off they set again. But\nthe dragon returned home, and the she dragon asked him:\n\n\"What! hast thou not caught them or met them on the road?\"\n\n\"Met them, no!\" said he. \"I did, indeed, pass on the road some standing\nwheat and an old man watching it, and I asked the old man if he had seen\na lad and a lass pass by that way, and he said, 'Yes, while this wheat\nwas being sown'; but the wheat was quite ripe for the sickle, so I knew\nit was a long while ago and turned back.\"\n\n\"Why didst thou not tear that old man and the wheat to pieces?\" cried\nthe she dragon; \"it was they! Be off after them again, and mind, this\ntime tear them to pieces without fail.\"\n\nSo the dragon set off after them again, and they heard him coming from\nafar, for the earth trembled beneath him. So the damsel said to Ivan:\n\n\"He's coming again; I hear him; now I'll change myself into a monastery,\nso old that it will be almost falling to pieces, and I'll change thee\ninto an old black monk at the gate, and when he comes up and asks, 'Hast\nthou seen a lad and a lass pass this way?' say to him: 'Yes, they passed\nby this way when this monastery was being built.'\"\n\nSoon afterwards the dragon came flying past, and asked the monk: \"Hast\nthou seen a lad and a lass pass by this way?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he replied, \"I saw them what time the holy fathers began to build\nthis monastery.\"\n\nThe dragon thought to himself: \"That was not yesterday! This monastery\nhas stood a hundred years if it has stood a day, and won't stand much\nlonger either\"; and with that he turned him back. When he got home he\nsaid to the she dragon, his wife: \"I met a black monk who serves in a\nmonastery and I asked him about them, and he told me that a lad and a\nlass had run past that way when the monastery was being built, but that\nwas not yesterday, for the monastery is a hundred years old at the very\nleast.\"\n\n\"Why didst thou not tear the black monk to pieces and pull down the\nmonastery? for 'twas they. But I see I must go after them myself; thou\nart no good at all.\"\n\nSo off she set and ran and ran, and they knew she was coming, for the\nearth quaked and yawned beneath her. Then the damsel said to Ivan:\n\n\"I fear me 'tis all over, for she is coming herself! Look now, I'll\nchange thee into a stream and myself into a fish--a perch.\"\n\nImmediately after the she dragon came up and said to the perch:\n\n\"Oh, oh! so thou wouldst run away from me, eh!\"\n\nThen she turned herself into a pike and began chasing the perch, but\nevery time she drew near to it the perch turned its prickly fins toward\nher, so that she could not catch hold of it. So she kept on chasing it\nand chasing it, but finding she could not catch it, she tried to drink\nup the stream, till she drank so much of it that she burst.\n\nThen the maiden who had become a fish said to the youth who had become a\nriver:\n\n\"Now that we are alive and not dead, go back to thy lord father and thy\nfather's house and see them, and kiss them all except the daughter of\nthy uncle, for if thou kiss that damsel thou wilt forget me, and I shall\ngo to the land of Nowhere.\"\n\nSo he went home and greeted them all, and as he did so he thought to\nhimself:\n\n\"Why should I not greet my uncle's daughter like the rest of them? Why,\nthey'll think me a mere pagan if I don't!\"\n\nSo he kissed her, and the moment he did so he forgot all about the girl\nwho had saved him.\n\nSo he remained there half a year, and then bethought him of taking to\nhimself a wife. So they betrothed him to a very pretty girl, and he\naccepted her and forgot all about the other girl who had saved him from\nthe dragon, the one who herself was the she dragon's daughter. Now the\nevening before the wedding they heard a young damsel crying _shishki_[B]\nin the streets. They called to the young damsel to go away, or say who\nshe was, for nobody knew her. But the damsel answered never a word, but\nbegan to knead more cakes, and made a cock dove and a hen dove out of\nthe dough and put them down on the ground, and they became alive. And\nthe hen dove said to the cock dove:\n\n\"Hast thou forgotten how I cleared the field for thee, and sowed it with\nwheat, and thou mad'st a roll from the corn which thou gavest to the she\ndragon?\"\n\nBut the cock dove answered:\n\n\"Forgotten! forgotten!\"\n\nThen she said to him again:\n\n\"And hast thou forgotten how I dug away the mountain for thee, and let\nthe Dnieper flow by it that the merchant barques might come to thy\nstorehouses, and that thou might'st sell thy wheat to the merchant\nbarques?\"\n\nBut the cock dove replied:\n\n\"Forgotten! forgotten!\"\n\nThen the hen dove said to him again:\n\n\"And hast thou forgotten how we two went together in search of the\ngolden hare? Hast thou forgotten me then altogether?\"\n\nAnd the cock dove answered again:\n\n\"Forgotten! forgotten!\"\n\nThen the good youth Ivan bethought him who this damsel was that had made\nthe doves, and he took her to his arms and made her his wife, and they\nlived happily ever afterwards.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[Footnote B: Wedding-cakes of the shape of pine cones.]\n\n\n\n\n_The Sparrow and the Bush_\n\n\nA SPARROW once flew down upon a bush and said:\n\n\"Little bush, give good little sparrow a swing.\"\n\n\"I won't!\" said the little bush. Then the sparrow was angry, and went to\nthe goat and said:\n\n\"Goat, goat, nibble bush, bush won't give good little sparrow a swing.\"\n\n\"I won't!\" said the goat.\n\nThen the sparrow went to the wolf and said:\n\n\"Wolf, wolf, eat goat, goat won't nibble bush, bush won't give good\nlittle sparrow a swing.\"\n\n\"I won't!\" said the wolf.\n\nThen the sparrow went to the people and said:\n\n\"Good people, kill wolf, wolf won't eat goat, goat won't nibble bush,\nbush won't give good little sparrow a swing.\"\n\n\"We won't!\" said the people.\n\nThen the sparrow went to the Tartars:\n\n\"Tartars, Tartars, slay people, people won't kill wolf, wolf won't eat\ngoat, goat won't nibble bush, bush won't give good little sparrow a\nswing.\" But the Tartars said:\n\n\"We won't slay the people!\" and the people said:\n\n\"We won't kill the wolf!\" and the wolf said:\n\n\"I won't eat the goat!\" and the goat said:\n\n\"I won't nibble the bush!\" and the bush said:\n\n\"I won't give the good little sparrow a swing.\"\n\n\"Go!\" said the bush, \"to the fire, for the Tartars won't slay the\npeople, and the people won't kill the wolf, and the wolf won't eat the\ngoat, and the goat won't nibble the bush, and the bush won't give the\ndear little sparrow a swing.\"\n\nBut the fire also said:\n\n\"I won't!\" (they were all alike)--\"go to the water,\" said he.\n\nSo the sparrow went to the water and said:\n\n\"Come water, quench fire, fire won't burn Tartars, Tartars won't slay\npeople, people won't kill wolf, wolf won't eat goat, goat won't nibble\nbush, bush won't give good little sparrow a swing.\"\n\nBut the water also said:\n\n\"I won't!\" So the sparrow went to the ox and said:\n\n\"Ox, ox, drink water, water won't quench fire, fire won't burn Tartars,\nTartars won't slay people, people won't kill wolf, wolf won't eat goat,\ngoat won't nibble bush, bush won't give little sparrow a swing.\"\n\n\"I won't!\" said the ox.\n\nThen the sparrow went to the poleax and said:\n\n\"Poleax, poleax, strike ox, ox won't drink water, water won't quench\nfire, fire won't burn Tartars, Tartars won't slay people, people won't\nkill wolf, wolf won't eat goat, goat won't nibble bush, bush won't give\nlittle sparrow a swing.\"\n\n\"I won't!\" said the poleax.\n\nSo the sparrow went to the worms and said:\n\n\"Worms, worms, gnaw poleax, poleax won't strike ox, ox won't drink\nwater, water won't quench fire, fire won't burn Tartars, Tartars won't\nslay people, people won't kill wolf, wolf won't eat goat, goat won't\nnibble bush, bush won't give little sparrow a swing.\"\n\n\"We won't!\" said the worms.\n\nThen the sparrow went to the hen and said:\n\n\"Hen, hen, peck worms, worms won't gnaw poleax, poleax won't strike ox,\nox won't drink water, water won't quench fire, fire won't burn Tartars,\nTartars won't slay people, people won't kill wolf, wolf won't eat goat,\ngoat won't nibble bush, bush won't give little sparrow a swing.\"\n\n\"I won't!\" said the hen, \"but go to the sparrow hawk, he ought to give\nthe first push, or why is he called the pusher!\"[C]\n\nSo the sparrow went to the sparrow hawk and said:\n\n\"Come, pusher, seize hen, hen won't peck worms, worms won't gnaw poleax,\npoleax won't strike ox, ox won't drink water, water won't quench fire,\nfire won't burn Tartars, Tartars won't slay people, people won't kill\nwolf, wolf won't eat goat, goat won't nibble bush, bush won't give\nlittle sparrow a swing.\"\n\nThen the sparrow hawk began to seize the hen, the hen began to peck the\nworms, the worms began to gnaw the poleax, the poleax began to hit the\nox, the ox began to drink the water, the water began to quench the fire,\nthe fire began to burn the Tartars, the Tartars began to slay the\npeople, the people began to kill the wolf, the wolf began to eat the\ngoat, the goat began to nibble the bush, and the bush cried out:\n\n \"Swing away, swing away, swi-i-i-i-ing!\n Little daddy sparrow, have your fli-i-i-ing!\"\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[Footnote C: _Shulyak_ means both _sparrow hawk_ and _push_.]\n\n\n\n\n_The Iron Wolf_\n\n\nTHERE was once upon a time a parson who had a servant and when this\nservant had served him faithfully for twelve years and upward, he came\nto the parson and said: \"Let us now settle our accounts, master, and pay\nme what thou owest me. I have now served long enough, and would fain\nhave a little place in the wide world all to myself.\"\n\n\"Good!\" said the parson. \"I'll tell thee now what wage I'll give thee\nfor thy faithful service. I'll give thee this egg. Take it home, and\nwhen thou gettest there, make to thyself a cattle pen, and make it\nstrong; then break the egg in the middle of thy cattle pen, and thou\nshalt see something. But whatever thou doest, don't break it on thy way\nhome, or all thy luck will leave thee.\"\n\nSo the servant departed on his homeward way. He went on and on, and at\nlast he thought to himself:\n\n\"Come now, I'll see what is inside this egg of mine!\" So he broke it,\nand out of it came all sorts of cattle in such numbers that the open\nsteppe became like a fair. The servant stood there in amazement, and he\nthought to himself:\n\n\"However in this world shall I be able to drive all these cattle back\nagain?\" He had scarcely uttered the words when the Iron Wolf came\nrunning up, and said to him:\n\n\"I'll collect and drive back all these cattle into the egg again, and\nI'll patch the egg up so that it will become quite whole. But in return\nfor that,\" continued the Iron Wolf, \"whenever thou dost sit down on the\nbridal bench,[D] I'll come and eat thee.\"\n\n\"Well,\" thought the servant to himself, \"a lot of things may happen\nbefore I sit down on the bridal bench and he comes to eat me, and in the\nmeantime I shall get all these cattle. Agreed, then,\" said he. So the\nIron Wolf immediately collected all the cattle, and drove them back into\nthe egg, and patched up the egg and made it whole just as it was before.\n\nThe servant went home to the village where he lived, made him a cattle\npen stronger than strong, went inside it and broke the egg, and\nimmediately that cattle pen was as full of cattle as it could hold. Then\nhe took to farming and cattle-breeding, and he became so rich that in\nthe whole wide world there was none richer than he. He kept to himself,\nand his goods increased and multiplied exceedingly; the only thing\nwanting to his happiness was a wife, but a wife he was afraid to take.\nNow near to where he lived was a general who had a lovely daughter, and\nthis daughter fell in love with the rich man. So the general went and\nsaid to him:\n\n\"Come, why don't you marry? I'll give you my daughter and lots of money\nwith her.\"\n\n\"How is it possible for me to marry?\" replied the man; \"as soon as ever\nI sit down on the bridal bench the Iron Wolf will come and eat me up.\"\nAnd he told the general all that had happened.\n\n\"Oh, nonsense!\" said the general, \"don't be afraid. I have a mighty\nhost, and when the time comes for you to sit down on the bridal bench\nwe'll surround your house with three strong rows of soldiers, and they\nwon't let the Iron Wolf get at you, I can tell you.\" So they talked the\nmatter over till he let himself be persuaded, and then they began to\nmake great preparations for the bridal banquet. Everything went off\nexceedingly well, and they made merry till the time came when bride and\nbridegroom were to sit down together on the bridal bench. Then the\ngeneral placed his men in three strong rows all around the house so as\nnot to let the Iron Wolf get in; and no sooner had the young people sat\ndown upon the bridal bench than, sure enough, the Iron Wolf came running\nup. He saw the host standing around the house in three strong rows, but\nthrough all three rows he leaped and made straight for the house. But\nthe man, as soon as he saw the Iron Wolf, leaped out of the window,\nmounted his horse, and galloped off with the wolf after him.\n\nAway and away he galloped, and after him came the Wolf, but try as it\nwould, it could not catch him up anyhow. At last, toward evening, the\nman stopped and looked about him, and saw that he was in a lone forest,\nand before him stood a hut. He went up to this hut, and saw an old man\nand an old woman sitting in front of it, and said to them:\n\n\"Would you let me rest a little while with you, good people?\"\n\n\"By all means!\" said they.\n\n\"There is one thing, however, good people,\" said he, \"don't let the Iron\nWolf catch me while I am resting with you.\"\n\n\"Have no fear of that!\" replied the old couple. \"We have a dog called\nChutko[E] who can hear a wolf coming a mile off, and he'll be sure to\nlet us know.\"\n\nSo he laid him down to sleep, and was just dropping off when Chutko\nbegan to bark. Then the old people awoke him, and said:\n\n\"Be off! be off! for the Iron Wolf is coming.\"\n\nAnd they gave him the dog, and a wheaten hearth cake as provision by the\nway.\n\nSo he went on and on, and the dog followed after him till it began to\ngrow dark, and then he perceived another hut in another forest. He went\nup to that hut, and in front of it were sitting an old man and an old\nwoman. He asked them for a night's lodging.\n\n\"Only,\" said he, \"take care that the Iron Wolf doesn't catch me.\"\n\n\"Have no fear of that,\" said they. \"We have a dog here called Vazhko,[F]\nwho can hear a wolf nine miles off.\"\n\nSo he laid him down and slept. Just before dawn Vazhko began to bark.\nImmediately they awoke him.\n\n\"Run!\" cried they, \"the Iron Wolf is coming!\"\n\nAnd they gave him the dog, and a barley hearth-cake as provision by the\nway. So he took the hearth cake, sat him on his horse and off he went,\nand his two dogs followed after him.\n\nHe went on and on. On and on he went till evening, when again he stopped\nand looked about him, and he saw that he was in another forest, and\nanother little hut stood before him. He went into the hut, and there\nwere sitting an old man and an old woman.\n\n\"Will you let me pass the night here, good people?\" said he. \"Only take\ncare that the Iron Wolf does not get hold of me.\"\n\n\"Have no fear,\" said they, \"we have a dog called Bary, who can hear a\nwolf coming twelve miles off. He'll let us know.\"\n\nSo he lay down to sleep, and early in the morning Bary let them know\nthat the Iron Wolf was drawing nigh. Immediately they awoke him.\n\n\"'Tis high time for you to be off!\" said they.\n\nThen they gave him the dog, and a buckwheat hearth cake as provision by\nthe way. He took the hearth cake, sat him on his horse, and off he\nwent. So now he had three dogs, and they all three followed him.\n\nHe went on and on, and toward evening he found himself in front of\nanother hut. He went into it, and there was nobody there. He went and\nlay down, and his dogs lay down also--Chutko on the threshold of the\nroom door, Vazhko at the threshold of the house door, and Bary at the\nthreshold of the outer gate. Presently the Iron Wolf came trotting up.\nImmediately Chutko gave the alarm, Vazhko nailed him to the earth, and\nBary tore him to pieces.\n\nThen the man gathered his faithful dogs around him, mounted his horse,\nand went back to his own home.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[Footnote D: _Posad_, or _posag_, a bench covered with white cloth on\nwhich the bride and bridegroom sat down together.]\n\n[Footnote E: Hearkener.]\n\n[Footnote F: Heavysides.]\n\n\n\n\n_The Grateful Cobra_\n\n\nONCE upon a time there was a rajah and ranee who were much grieved\nbecause they had no children, and the little dog in the palace had also\nno puppies. At last the Rajah and Ranee had some children, and it also\nhappened that the pet dog in the palace had some puppies; but,\nunfortunately, the Ranee's two children were two puppies and the dog's\ntwo puppies were two pretty little girls! This vexed her majesty very\nmuch; and sometimes when the dog had gone away to its dinner, the Ranee\nused to put the two puppies (her children) into the kennel, and carry\naway the dog's two little girls to the palace. Then the poor dog grew\nvery unhappy, and said: \"They never will leave my two little children\nalone. I must take them away into the jungle, or their lives will be\nworried out.\" So one night she took the little girls in her mouth and\nran with them to the jungle, and there made them a home in a pretty cave\nin the rock, beside a clear stream; and every day she would go into the\ntowns and carry away some nice currie and rice to give her little\ndaughters; and if she found any pretty clothes or jewels that she could\nbring away in her mouth, she used to take them also for the children.\n\nNow it happened some time after this, one day, when the dog had gone to\nfetch her daughters' dinner, two young princes (a rajah and his brother)\ncame to hunt in the jungle, and they hunted all day and found nothing.\nIt had been very hot, and they were thirsty; so they went to a tree\nwhich grew on a little piece of high ground, and sent their attendants\nto search all around for water; but no one could find any. At last one\nof the hunting dogs came to the foot of the tree, quite muddy, and the\nRajah said: \"Look, the dog is muddy: he must have found water; follow\nhim, and see where he goes.\" The attendants followed the dog, and saw\nhim go to the stream at the mouth of the cave where the two children\nwere; and the two children also saw them, and were very much frightened\nand ran inside the cave. Then the attendants returned to the two princes\nand said: \"We have found clear, sparkling water flowing past a cave,\nand, what is more, within the cave are two of the most lovely young\nladies that eye ever beheld, clothed in fine dresses and covered with\njewels; but when they saw us they were frightened and ran away.\" On\nhearing this the princes bade their servants lead them to the place; and\nwhen they saw the two young girls, they were quite charmed with them,\nand asked them to go to their kingdom and become their wives. The\nmaidens were frightened; but at last the Rajah and his brother persuaded\nthem, and they went, and the Rajah married the elder sister, and his\nbrother married the younger.\n\nWhen the dog returned, she was grieved to find her children gone, and\nfor twelve long years the poor thing ran many, many miles to find them,\nbut in vain. At last one day she came to the place where the two\nprincesses lived. Now it chanced that the elder, the wife of the Rajah,\nwas looking out of the window, and seeing the dog run down the street,\nshe said: \"That must be my dear, long-lost mother.\" So she ran into the\nstreet as fast as possible, and took the tired dog in her arms, and\nbrought her into her own room, and made her a nice comfortable bed on\nthe floor, and bathed her feet, and was very kind to her. Then the dog\nsaid to her: \"My daughter, you are good and kind, and it is a great joy\nto me to see you again, but I must not stay; I will first go and see\nyour younger sister, and then return.\" The Ranee answered: \"Do not do\nso, dear mother; rest here to-day; to-morrow I will send and let my\nsister know, and she, too, will come and see you.\" But the poor, silly\ndog would not stay, but ran to the house of her second daughter. Now the\nsecond daughter was looking out of the window when the unfortunate\ncreature came to the door, and seeing the dog she said to herself: \"That\nmust be my mother. What will my husband think if he learns that this\nwretched, ugly, miserable-looking dog is my mother?\" So she ordered her\nservants to go and throw stones at it, and drive it away, and they did\nso; and one large stone hit the dog's head, and she ran back, very much\nhurt, to her elder daughter's house. The Ranee saw her coming, and ran\nout into the street and brought her in in her arms, and did all she\ncould to make her well, saying: \"Ah, mother, mother! why did you ever\nleave my house?\" But all her care was in vain: the poor dog died. Then\nthe Ranee thought her husband might be vexed if he found a dead dog (an\nunclean animal) in the palace; so she put the body in a small room into\nwhich the Rajah hardly ever went, intending to have it reverently\nburied; and over it she placed a basket turned topsy-turvy.\n\nIt so happened, however, that when the Rajah came to visit his wife, as\nchance would have it, he went through this very room; and tripping over\nthe upturned basket, called for a light to see what it was. Then, lo and\nbehold! there lay the statue of a dog, life-size, composed entirely of\ndiamonds, emeralds, and other precious stones, set in gold! So he called\nout to his wife, and said: \"Where did you get this beautiful dog?\" And\nwhen the Ranee saw the golden dog, she was very much frightened, and,\nI'm sorry to say, instead of telling her husband the truth, she told a\nstory, and said, \"Oh, it is only a present my parents sent me.\"\n\nNow see what trouble she got into for not telling the truth.\n\n\"_Only!_\" said the Rajah; \"why this is valuable enough to buy the whole\nof my kingdom. Your parents must be very rich people to be able to send\nyou such presents as this. How is it you never told me of them? Where do\nthey live?\" Now she had to tell another story to cover the first. She\nsaid: \"In the jungle.\" He replied: \"I will go and see them; you must\ntake me and show me where they live.\" Then the Ranee thought: \"What will\nthe Rajah say when he finds I have been telling him such stories? He\nwill order my head to be cut off.\" So she said, \"You must first give me\na palanquin, and I will go into the jungle and tell them you are\ncoming\"; but really she had determined to kill herself, and so get out\nof her difficulties. Away she went; and when she had gone some distance\nin her palanquin, she saw a large white ants' nest, over which hung a\ncobra, with his mouth wide open; then the Ranee thought: \"I will go to\nthat cobra and put my finger in his mouth, that he may bite me, and so I\nshall die.\" So she ordered the palkee bearers to wait, and said she\nwould be back in a while, and got out, and ran to the ants' nest, and\nput her finger in the cobra's mouth. Now a large thorn had run, a short\ntime before, into the cobra's throat, and hurt him very much; and the\nRanee, by putting her finger into his mouth, pushed out this thorn; then\nthe cobra, feeling much better, turned to her, and said: \"My dear\ndaughter, you have done me a great kindness; what return can I make\nyou?\" The Ranee told him all her story, and begged him to bite her, that\nshe might die. But the cobra said: \"You certainly did very wrong to tell\nthe Rajah that story; nevertheless, you have been very kind to me. I\nwill help you in your difficulty. Send your husband here. I will provide\nyou with a father and mother of whom you need not be ashamed.\" So the\nRanee returned joyfully to the palace, and invited her husband to come\nand see her parents.\n\nWhen they reached the spot near where the cobra was, what a wonderful\nsight awaited them! There, in the place which had before been thick\njungle, stood a splendid palace, twenty-four miles long and twenty-four\nmiles broad, with gardens and trees and fountains all around; and the\nlight shining from it was to be seen a hundred miles off. The walls\nwere made of gold and precious stones, and the carpets, cloth of gold.\nHundreds of servants, in rich dresses, stood waiting in the long, lofty\nrooms; and in the last room of all, upon golden thrones, sat a\nmagnificent old Rajah and Ranee, who introduced themselves to the young\nRajah as his papa- and mamma-in-law. The Rajah and Ranee stayed at the\npalace six months, and were entertained the whole of that time with\nfeasting and music; and they left for their own home loaded with\npresents. Before they started, however, the Ranee went to her friend,\nthe cobra, and said: \"You have conjured up all these beautiful things to\nget me out of my difficulties, but my husband, the Rajah has enjoyed his\nvisit so much that he will certainly want to come here again. Then, if\nhe returns and finds nothing at all, he will be very angry with me.\" The\nfriendly cobra answered: \"Do not fear. When you have gone twenty-four\nmiles on your journey, look back, and see what you will see.\" So they\nstarted; and on looking back at the end of twenty-four miles, saw the\nwhole of the splendid palace in flames, the fire reaching up to heaven.\nThe Rajah returned to see if he could help anybody to escape, or invite\nthem in their distress to his court; but he found that all was burned\ndown--not a stone nor a living creature remained!\n\nThen he grieved much over the sad fate of his parents-in-law.\n\nWhen the party returned home, the Rajah's brother said to him: \"Where\ndid you get these magnificent presents?\" He replied: \"They are gifts\nfrom my father- and mother-in-law.\" At this news the Rajah's brother\nwent home to his wife very discontented, and asked her why she had never\ntold him of her parents, and taken him to see them, whereby he might\nhave received rich gifts as well as his brother. His wife then went to\nher sister, and asked how she had managed to get all the things. But the\nRanee said: \"Go away, you wicked woman, I will not speak to you. You\nkilled the poor dog, our mother.\"\n\nBut afterwards she told her all about it.\n\nThe sister then said: \"I shall go and see the cobra, and get presents\ntoo.\" The Ranee then answered: \"You can go if you like.\"\n\nSo the sister ordered her palanquin, and told her husband she was going\nto see her parents, and prepare them for a visit from him. When she\nreached the ants' nest she saw the cobra there, and she went and put her\nfinger in his mouth, and the cobra bit her, and she died.\n\n\n\n\n_The Magic Ring_\n\n\nONCE upon a time there lived an old couple who had one son called\nMartin. Now, when the old man's time had come he stretched himself out\non his bed and died. Though all his life long he had toiled and moiled,\nhe only left his widow and son two hundred florins. The old woman\ndetermined to put by the money for a rainy day, but, alas! the rainy day\nwas close at hand, for their meal was all consumed, and who is prepared\nto face starvation with two hundred florins at their disposal? So the\nold woman counted out one hundred florins, and giving them to Martin,\ntold him to go into the town and lay in a store of meal for a year.\n\nSo Martin started off for the town. When he reached the meat market he\nfound the whole place in turmoil and a great noise of angry voices and\nbarking of dogs. Mixing in the crowd, he noticed a stag hound which the\nbutchers had caught and tied to a post, and which was being flogged in a\nmerciless manner. Overcome with pity, Martin spoke to the butchers,\nsaying:\n\n\"Friends, why are you beating the poor dog so cruelly?\"\n\n\"We have every right to beat him,\" they replied. \"He has just devoured a\nnewly killed pig.\"\n\n\"Leave off beating him,\" said Martin, \"and sell him to me instead.\"\n\n\"If you choose to buy him,\" answered the butchers derisively; \"but for\nsuch a treasure we won't take a penny less than one hundred florins.\"\n\n\"A hundred!\" exclaimed Martin. \"Well, so be it, if you will not take\nless\"; and taking the money out of his pocket he handed it over in\nexchange for the dog, whose name was Schurka.\n\nWhen Martin got home his mother met him with the question:\n\n\"Well, what have you bought?\"\n\n\"Schurka, the dog,\" replied Martin, pointing to his new possession.\nWhereupon his mother became very angry and abused him roundly. He ought\nto be ashamed of himself, when there was scarcely a handful of meal in\nthe house, to have spent the money on a useless brute like that. On the\nfollowing day she sent him back to the town, saying: \"Here, take our\nlast one hundred florins and buy provisions with them. I have just\nemptied the last grains of meal out of the chest and baked a bannock;\nbut it won't last over to-morrow.\"\n\nJust as Martin was entering the town he met a rough-looking peasant who\nwas dragging a cat after him by a string which was fastened around the\npoor beast's neck.\n\n\"Stop!\" cried Martin. \"Where are you dragging that poor cat?\"\n\n\"I mean to drown it,\" was the answer.\n\n\"What harm has the poor beast done?\" said Martin.\n\n\"It has just killed a goose,\" replied the peasant.\n\n\"Don't drown it--sell it to me instead,\" begged Martin.\n\n\"Not for one hundred florins,\" was the answer.\n\n\"Surely for one hundred florins you'll sell it?\" said Martin. \"See! here\nis the money.\" And so saying he handed him the one hundred florins,\nwhich the peasant pocketed, and Martin took possession of the cat, which\nwas called Waska.\n\nWhen he reached his home his mother greeted him with the question:\n\n\"Well, what have you brought back?\"\n\n\"I have brought this cat, Waska,\" answered Martin.\n\n\"And what besides?\"\n\n\"I had no money over to buy anything else with,\" replied Martin.\n\n\"You useless ne'er-do-weel!\" exclaimed his mother in a great passion.\n\"Leave the house at once and go and beg your bread among strangers,\" And\nas Martin did not dare to contradict her, he called Schurka and Waska\nand started off with them to the nearest village in search of work. On\nthe way he met a rich peasant, who asked him where he was going.\n\n\"I want to get work as a day laborer,\" he answered.\n\n\"Come along with me, then. But I must tell you I engage my laborers\nwithout wages. If you serve me faithfully for a year I promise you it\nshall be to your advantage.\"\n\nSo Martin consented, and for a year he worked diligently and served his\nmaster faithfully, not sparing himself in any way. When the day of\nreckoning had come the peasant led him into a barn, and pointing to two\nfull sacks said: \"Take whichever of these you choose.\"\n\nMartin examined the contents of the sacks, and seeing that one was full\nof silver and the other of sand, he said to himself: \"There must be some\ntrick about this. I had better take the sand.\" And throwing the sack\nover his shoulders he started out into the world in search of fresh\nwork. On and on he walked, and at last he reached a great gloomy wood.\nIn the middle of the wood he came upon a meadow, where a fire was\nburning, and in the midst of the fire, surrounded by flames, was a\nlovely damsel, more beautiful than anything that Martin had ever seen,\nand when she saw him she called to him:\n\n\"Martin, if you would win happiness save my life. Extinguish the flames\nwith the sand that you earned in payment of your faithful service.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" thought Martin to himself, \"it would be more sensible to save a\nfellow-being's life with this sand than to drag it about on one's back,\nseeing what a weight it is.\" And forthwith he lowered the sack from his\nshoulders and emptied its contents on the flames, and instantly the\nfire was extinguished; but at the same moment lo and behold! the lovely\ndamsel turned into a serpent and darting upon him coiled itself around\nhis neck and whispered lovingly in his ear:\n\n\"Do not be afraid of me, Martin. I love you and will go with you through\nthe world. But first you must follow me boldly into my father's kingdom,\nunderneath the earth; and when we get there, remember this--he will\noffer you gold and silver and dazzling gems, but do not touch them. Ask\nhim, instead, for the ring which he wears on his little finger, for in\nthat ring lies a magic power. You have only to throw it from one hand to\nthe other, and at once twelve young men will appear who will do your\nbidding, no matter how difficult it is, in a single night.\"\n\nSo they started on their way, and after much wandering they reached a\nspot where a great rock rose straight up in the middle of the road.\nInstantly the serpent uncoiled itself from his neck, and as it touched\nthe damp earth it resumed the shape of the lovely damsel. Pointing to\nthe rock, she showed him an opening just big enough for a man to wriggle\nthrough. Passing into it, they entered a long underground passage which\nled out on to a wide field above which spread a blue sky. In the middle\nof the field stood a magnificent castle built out of porphyry, with a\nroof of gold and with glittering battlements. And his beautiful guide\ntold him that this was the palace in which her father lived and reigned\nover his kingdom in the underworld.\n\nTogether they entered the palace and were received by the King with\ngreat kindness. Turning to his daughter he said:\n\n\"My child, I had almost given up the hope of ever seeing you again.\nWhere have you been all these years?\"\n\n\"My father,\" she replied, \"I owe my life to this youth, who saved me\nfrom a terrible death.\"\n\nUpon which the King turned to Martin with a gracious smile, saying: \"I\nwill reward your courage by granting you whatever your heart desires.\nTake as much gold, silver, and precious stones as you choose.\"\n\n\"I thank you, mighty King, for your gracious offer,\" answered Martin,\n\"but I do not covet either gold, silver, or precious stones; yet if you\nwill grant me a favor, give me, I beg, the ring from off the little\nfinger of your royal hand. Every time my eye falls on it I shall think\nof your gracious majesty, and when I marry I shall present it to my\nbride.\"\n\nSo the King took the ring from his finger and gave it to Martin, saying:\n\"Take it, good youth; but with it I make one condition--you are never to\nconfide to anyone that this is a magic ring. If you do, you will\nstraightway bring misfortune on yourself.\"\n\nMartin took the ring, and having thanked the King he set out on the same\nroad by which he had come down into the underworld. When he had regained\nthe upper air he started for his old home, and having found his mother\nstill living in the old house where he had left her, they settled down\ntogether very happily. So uneventful was their life that it almost\nseemed as if it would go on in this way always without let or hindrance.\nBut one day it suddenly came into his mind that he would like to get\nmarried, and, moreover, that he would choose a very grand wife--a king's\ndaughter, in short. But as he did not trust himself as a wooer, he\ndetermined to send his old mother on the mission.\n\n\"You must go to the King,\" he said to her, \"and demand the hand of his\nlovely daughter in marriage for me.\"\n\n\"What are you thinking of, my son?\" answered the old woman, aghast at\nthe idea. \"Why cannot you marry some one in your own rank? That would be\nfar more fitting than to send a poor old woman like me a-wooing to the\nKing's court for the hand of a princess. Why, it is as much as our heads\nare worth. Neither my life nor yours would be worth anything if I went\non such a fool's errand.\"\n\n\"Never fear, little mother,\" answered Martin. \"Trust me; all will be\nwell. But see that you do not come back without an answer of some kind.\"\n\nAnd so, obedient to her son's behest, the old woman hobbled off to the\npalace, and without being hindered reached the courtyard and began to\nmount the flight of steps leading to the royal presence chamber. At the\nhead of the landing rows of courtiers were collected in magnificent\nattire, who stared at the queer old figure, and called to her and\nexplained to her with every kind of sign that it was strictly forbidden\nto mount those steps. But their stern words and forbidding gestures made\nno impression whatever on the old woman, and she resolutely continued to\nclimb the stairs, bent on carrying out her son's orders. Upon this some\nof the courtiers seized her by the arms and held her back by sheer\nforce, at which she set up such a yell that the King himself heard it\nand stepped out on to the balcony to see what was the matter. When he\nbeheld the old woman flinging her arms wildly about and heard her scream\nthat she would not leave the place till she had laid her case before the\nKing, he ordered that she should be brought into his presence. And\nforthwith she was conducted into the golden presence chamber, where,\nleaning back among cushions of royal purple, the King sat, surrounded by\nhis counselors and courtiers. Courtesying low, the old woman stood\nsilent before him.\n\n\"Well, my good old dame, what can I do for you?\" asked the King.\n\n\"I have come,\" replied Martin's mother--\"and your majesty must not be\nangry with me--I have come a-wooing.\"\n\n\"Is the woman out of her mind?\" said the King, with an angry frown.\n\nBut Martin's mother answered boldly: \"If the King will only listen\npatiently to me and give me a straightforward answer, he will see that I\nam not out of my mind. You, O King, have a lovely daughter to give in\nmarriage. I have a son--a wooer--as clever a youth and as good a\nson-in-law as you will find in your whole kingdom. There is nothing that\nhe cannot do. Now tell me, O King, plump and plain, will you give your\ndaughter to my son as wife?\"\n\nThe King listened to the end of the old woman's strange request, but\nevery moment his face grew blacker and his features sterner, till all at\nonce he thought to himself: \"Is it worth while that I, the King, should\nbe angry with this poor old fool?\" And all the courtiers and counselors\nwere amazed when they saw the hard lines around his mouth and the frown\non his brow grow smooth, and heard the mild but mocking tones in which\nhe answered the old woman, saying:\n\n\"If your son is as wonderfully clever as you say, and if there is\nnothing in the world that he cannot do, let him build a magnificent\ncastle, just opposite my palace windows, in twenty-four hours. The\npalaces must be joined together by a bridge of pure crystal. On each\nside of the bridge there must be growing trees, having golden and silver\napples and with birds of paradise among the branches. At the right of\nthe bridge there must be a church with five golden cupolas. In this\nchurch your son shall be wedded to my daughter, and we will keep the\nwedding festivities in the new castle. But if he fails to execute this\nmy royal command, then, as a just but mild monarch, I shall give orders\nthat you and he be taken and first dipped in tar and then in feathers,\nand you shall be executed in the market place for the entertainment of\nmy courtiers.\"\n\nAnd a smile played around the King's lips as he finished speaking, and\nhis courtiers and counselors shook with laughter when they thought of\nthe old woman's folly, and praised the King's wise device and said to\neach other: \"What a joke it will be when we see the pair of them tarred\nand feathered! The son is just as able to grow a beard on the palm of\nhis hand as to execute such a task in twenty-four hours.\"\n\nNow, the poor old woman was mortally afraid, and in a trembling voice\nshe asked:\n\n\"Is that really your royal will, O King? Must I take this order to my\npoor son?\"\n\n\"Yes, old dame; such is my command. If your son carries out my order he\nshall be rewarded with my daughter; but if he fails, away to the tar\nbarrel and the stake with you both!\"\n\nOn her way home the poor old woman shed bitter tears, and when she saw\nMartin she told him what the King had said, and sobbed out:\n\n\"Didn't I tell you, my son, that you should marry some one of your own\nrank? It would have been better for us this day if you had. As I told\nyou, my going to court has been as much as our lives are worth, and now\nwe will both be tarred and feathered and burned in the public market\nplace. It is terrible!\" And she moaned and cried.\n\n\"Never fear, little mother,\" answered Martin. \"Trust me, and you will\nsee all will be well. You may go to sleep with a quiet mind.\"\n\nAnd stepping to the front of the hut Martin threw his ring from the palm\nof one hand into the other, upon which twelve youths instantly appeared\nand demanded what he wanted them to do. Then he told them the King's\ncommands, and they answered that by next morning all should be\naccomplished exactly as the King had ordered.\n\nNext morning when the King awoke and looked out of his window, to his\namazement he beheld a magnificent castle, just opposite his own palace,\nand joined to it by a bridge of pure crystal.\n\nAt each side of the bridge trees were growing, from whose branches hung\ngolden and silver apples, among which birds of paradise perched. At the\nright, gleaming in the sun, were the five golden cupolas of a splendid\nchurch, whose bells rang out as if they would summon people from all\ncorners of the earth to come and behold the wonder. Now, though the King\nwould much rather have seen his future son-in-law tarred, feathered, and\nburned at the stake, he remembered his royal oath and had to make the\nbest of a bad business. So he took heart of grace and made Martin a\nduke, and gave his daughter a rich dowry, and prepared the grandest\nwedding feast that had ever been seen, so that to this day the old\npeople in the country still talk of it.\n\nAfter the wedding Martin and his royal bride went to dwell in the\nmagnificent new palace, and here Martin lived in the greatest comfort\nand luxury, such luxury as he had never imagined. But though he was as\nhappy as the day was long and as merry as a grig, the King's daughter\nfretted all day, thinking of the indignity that had been done her in\nmaking her marry Martin, the poor widow's son, instead of a rich young\nprince from a foreign country. So unhappy was she that she spent all her\ntime wondering how she should get rid of her undesirable husband. And\nfirst she determined to learn the secret of his power, and with\nflattering, caressing words she tried to coax him to tell her how he was\nso clever that there was nothing in the world that he could not do. At\nfirst he would tell her nothing; but once, when he was in a yielding\nmood, she approached him with a winning smile on her lovely face, and\nspeaking flattering words to him she gave him a potion to drink, with a\nsweet, strong taste. And when he had drunk it Martin's lips were\nunsealed, and he told her that all his power lay in the magic ring that\nhe wore on his finger, and he described to her how to use it, and still\nspeaking he fell into a deep sleep. And when she saw that the potion had\nworked and that he was sound asleep, the Princess took the magic ring\nfrom his finger, and going into the courtyard she threw it from the palm\nof one hand into the other. On the instant the twelve youths appeared\nand asked her what she commanded them to do. Then she told them that by\nthe next morning they were to do away with the castle and the bridge and\nthe church, and put in their stead the humble hut in which Martin used\nto live with his mother, and that while he slept her husband was to be\ncarried to his old lowly room; and that they were to bear her away to\nthe utmost ends of the earth, where an old king lived who would make her\nwelcome in his palace and surround her with the state that befitted a\nroyal princess.\n\n\"You shall be obeyed,\" answered the twelve youths at the same moment.\nAnd lo and behold! the following morning when the King woke and looked\nout of his window he beheld to his amazement that the palace, bridge,\nchurch, and trees had all vanished, and there was nothing in their place\nbut a bare, miserable-looking hut.\n\nImmediately the King sent for his son-in-law and commanded him to\nexplain what had happened. But Martin looked at his royal father-in-law\nand answered never a word. Then the King was very angry, and calling a\ncouncil together, he charged Martin with having been guilty of\nwitchcraft, and of having deceived the King, and having made away with\nthe Princess; and he was condemned to imprisonment in a high stone\ntower, with neither meat nor drink, till he should die of starvation.\n\nThen, in the hour of his dire necessity, his old friends Schurka (the\ndog) and Waska (the cat) remembered how Martin had once saved them from\na cruel death; and they took counsel together as to how they should help\nhim. And Schurka growled and was of opinion that he would like to tear\neveryone in pieces; but Waska purred meditatively, scratched the back of\nher ear with a velvet paw, and remained lost in thought. At the end of a\nfew minutes she had made up her mind, and turning to Schurka, said: \"Let\nus go together into the town, and the moment we meet a baker you must\nmake a rush between his legs and upset the tray from off his head. I\nwill lay hold of the rolls and will carry them off to our master.\" No\nsooner said than done. Together the two faithful creatures trotted off\ninto the town, and very soon they met a baker bearing a tray on his head\nand looking around on all sides while he cried:\n\n \"Fresh rolls, sweet cake,\n Fancy bread of every kind,\n Come and buy, come and take,\n Sure you'll find it to your mind.\"\n\nAt that moment Schurka made a rush between his legs--the baker stumbled,\nthe tray was upset, the rolls fell to the ground, and while the man\nangrily pursued Schurka, Waska managed to drag the rolls out of sight\nbehind a bush. And when a moment later Schurka joined her, they set off\nat full tilt to the stone tower where Martin was a prisoner, taking the\nrolls with them. Waska, being very agile, climbed up by the outside to\nthe grated window and called in an anxious voice:\n\n\"Are you alive, master?\"\n\n\"Scarcely alive--almost starved to death,\" answered Martin in a weak\nvoice. \"I little thought it would come to this, that I should die of\nhunger.\"\n\n\"Never fear, dear master. Schurka and I will look after you,\" said\nWaska. And in another moment she had climbed down and brought him back a\nroll, and then another and another till she had brought him the whole\ntray load. Upon which she said: \"Dear master, Schurka and I are going\noff to a distant kingdom at the utmost ends of the earth to fetch you\nback your magic ring. You must be careful that the rolls last till our\nreturn.\"\n\nAnd Waska took leave of her beloved master and set off with Schurka on\ntheir journey. On and on they traveled, looking always to right and left\nfor traces of the Princess, following up every track, making inquiries\nof every cat and dog they met, listening to the talk of every wayfarer\nthey passed; and at last they heard that the kingdom at the utmost ends\nof the earth, where the twelve youths had borne the Princess, was not\nvery far off. And one day they reached that distant kingdom, and going\nat once to the palace they began to make friends with all the dogs and\ncats in the place and to question them about the Princess and the magic\nring; but no one could tell them much about either. Now, one day it\nchanced that Waska had gone down to the palace cellar to hunt for mice\nand rats, and seeing an especially fat, well-fed mouse, she pounced upon\nit, buried her claws in its soft fur, and was just going to gobble it up\nwhen she was stopped by the pleading tones of the little creature,\nsaying: \"If you will only spare my life I will be of great service to\nyou. I will do everything in my power for you; for I am the king of the\nmice, and if I perish the whole race will die out.\"\n\n\"So be it,\" said Waska. \"I will spare your life, but in return you must\ndo something for me. In this castle there lives a princess, the wicked\nwife of my dear master. She has stolen away his magic ring. You must get\nit away from her at whatever cost. Do you hear? Till you have done this\nI won't take my claws out of your fur.\"\n\n\"Good!\" replied the mouse. \"I will do what you ask.\" And so saying he\nsummoned all the mice in his kingdom together. A countless number of\nmice, small and big, brown and gray, assembled and formed a circle\naround their king, who was a prisoner under Waska's claws. Turning to\nthem he said: \"Dear and faithful subjects, whoever among you will steal\nthe magic ring from the strange Princess will release me from a cruel\ndeath, and I shall honor him above all the other mice in the kingdom.\"\n\nInstantly a tiny mouse stepped forward and said: \"I often creep about\nthe Princess's bedroom at night, and I have noticed that she has a ring\nwhich she treasures as the apple of her eye. All day she wears it on her\nfinger, and at night she keeps it in her mouth. I will undertake, sire,\nto steal away the ring for you.\"\n\nAnd the tiny mouse tripped away into the bedroom of the Princess and\nwaited for nightfall; then, when the Princess had fallen asleep, it\ncrept up on to her bed and gnawed a hole in the pillow, through which it\ndragged, one by one, little down feathers and threw them under the\nPrincess's nose. And the fluff flew into the Princess's nose and into\nher mouth, and starting up she sneezed and coughed, and the ring fell\nout of her mouth on to the coverlet. In a flash the tiny mouse had\nseized it and brought it to Waska as a ransom for the king of the mice.\nThereupon Waska and Schurka started off and traveled night and day till\nthey reached the stone tower where Martin was imprisoned; and the cat\nclimbed up the window and called out to him:\n\n\"Martin, dear master, are you still alive?\"\n\n\"Ah! Waska, my faithful little cat, is that you?\" replied a weak voice.\n\"I am dying of hunger. For three days I have not tasted food.\"\n\n\"Be of good heart, dear master,\" replied Waska. \"From this day forth,\nyou will know nothing but happiness and prosperity. If this were a\nmoment to trouble you with riddles, I would make you guess what Schurka\nand I have brought you back. Only think, we have found you your ring!\"\n\nAt these words Martin's joy knew no bounds, and he stroked her fondly\nand she rubbed up against him and purred happily, while below Schurka\nbounded in the air and barked joyfully. Then Martin took the ring and\nthrew it from one hand into the other, and instantly the twelve youths\nappeared and asked what they were to do.\n\n\"Fetch me first something to eat and drink as quickly as possible; and\nafter that bring musicians hither and let us have music all day long.\"\n\nNow, when the people in the town and palace heard music coming from the\ntower they were filled with amazement, and came to the King with the\nnews that witchcraft must be going on in Martin's tower, for instead of\ndying of starvation he was seemingly making merry to the sound of music\nand to the clatter of plates and glass and knives and forks; and the\nmusic was so enchantingly sweet that all the passers-by stood still to\nlisten to it. On this the King sent at once a messenger to Starvation\nTower, and he was so astonished with what he saw that he remained rooted\nto the spot. Then the King sent his chief counselors, and they too were\ntransfixed with wonder. At last the King came himself, and he likewise\nwas spellbound by the beauty of the music.\n\nThen Martin summoned the twelve youths and said to them: \"Build up my\ncastle again and join it to the King's palace with a crystal bridge. Do\nnot forget the trees with the golden and silver apples and with the\nbirds of paradise in the branches, and put back the church with the five\ncupolas, and let the bells ring out, summoning the people from the four\ncorners of the kingdom. And one thing more--bring back my faithless wife\nand lead her into the women's chamber.\"\n\nAnd it was all done as he commanded, and leaving Starvation Tower he\ntook the King, his father-in-law, by the arm and led him into the new\npalace, where the Princess sat in fear and trembling awaiting her death.\nAnd Martin spoke to the King, saying: \"King and royal father, I have\nsuffered much at the hands of your daughter. What punishment shall be\ndealt to her?\"\n\nThen the mild King answered: \"Beloved Prince and son-in-law, if you love\nme, let your anger be turned to grace--forgive my daughter and restore\nher to your heart and favor.\"\n\nAnd Martin's heart was softened and he forgave his wife, and they lived\nhappily together ever after. And his old mother came and lived with\nthem, and he never parted with Schurka and Waska; and I need hardly tell\nyou that he never again let the ring out of his possession.\n\n\n\n\n_Tit for Tat_\n\n\nTHERE once lived a camel and a jackal who were great friends. One day\nthe Jackal said to the Camel: \"I know that there is a fine field of\nsugar cane on the other side of the river. If you will take me across,\nI'll show you the place. This plan will suit me as well as you. You will\nenjoy eating the sugar cane, and I am sure to find many crabs, bones,\nand bits of fish by the riverside, on which to make a good dinner.\"\n\nThe Camel consented and swam across the river, taking the Jackal, who\ncould not swim, on his back. When they reached the other side, the Camel\nwent to eating the sugar cane, and the Jackal ran up and down the river\nbank devouring all the crabs, bits of fish, and bones he could find.\n\nBut being so much smaller an animal, he had made an excellent meal\nbefore the Camel had eaten more than two or three mouthfuls; and no\nsooner had he finished his dinner than he ran round and round the\nsugar-cane field, yelping and howling with all his might.\n\nThe villagers heard him, and thought: \"There is a jackal among the sugar\ncanes; he will be scratching holes in the ground and spoiling the roots\nof the plants.\" And they all went down to the place to drive him away.\nBut when they got there they found to their surprise not only a jackal,\nbut a camel who was eating the sugar canes! This made them very angry,\nand they caught the poor Camel and drove him from the field and beat and\nbeat him until he was nearly dead.\n\nWhen they had gone, the Jackal said to the Camel, \"We had better go\nhome.\" And the Camel said: \"Very well; then jump upon my back as you did\nbefore.\"\n\nSo the Jackal jumped upon the Camel's back, and the Camel began to\nrecross the river. When they had got well into the water the Camel said:\n\"This is a pretty way in which you have treated me, friend Jackal. No\nsooner had you finished your own dinner than you must go yelping about\nthe place loud enough to arouse the whole village, and bring all the\nvillagers down to beat me black and blue, and turn me out of the field\nbefore I had eaten two mouthfuls! What in the world did you make such a\nnoise for?\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" said the Jackal. \"It is a habit I have. I always like to\nsing a little after dinner.\"\n\nThe Camel waded on through the river. The water reached up to his\nknees--then above them--up, up, up, higher and higher, until he was\nobliged to swim. Then turning to the Jackal he said, \"I feel very\nanxious to roll.\" \"Oh, pray don't; why do you wish to do so?\" asked the\nJackal. \"I don't know,\" answered the Camel. \"It is a habit I have. I\nalways like to have a little roll after dinner.\" So saying, he rolled\nover in the water, shaking the Jackal off as he did so. And the Jackal\nwas drowned, but the Camel swam safely ashore.\n\n\n\n\n_The Brahman, the Tiger, and the Six Judges_\n\n\nONCE upon a time a Brahman, who was walking along the road, came upon an\niron cage, in which a great tiger had been shut up by the villagers who\ncaught him.\n\nAs the Brahman passed by, the Tiger called out and said to him: \"Brother\nBrahman, brother Brahman, have pity on me, and let me out of this cage\nfor one minute only to drink a little water, for I am dying of thirst.\"\nThe Brahman answered: \"No, I will not; for if I let you out of the cage\nyou will eat me.\"\n\n\"Oh, father of mercy,\" answered the Tiger, \"in truth that I will not. I\nwill never be so ungrateful; only let me out, that I may drink some\nwater and return.\" Then the Brahman took pity on him and opened the cage\ndoor; but no sooner had he done so than the Tiger, jumping out, said:\n\"Now, I will eat you first and drink the water afterwards.\" But the\nBrahman said: \"Only do not kill me hastily. Let us first ask the opinion\nof six, and if all of them say it is just and fair that you should put\nme to death, then I am willing to die.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" answered the Tiger, \"it shall be as you say; we will first\nask the opinion of six.\"\n\nSo the Brahman and the Tiger walked on till they came to a Banyan tree;\nand the Brahman said to it: \"Banyan Tree, Banyan Tree, hear and give\njudgment.\" \"On what must I give judgment?\" asked the Banyan Tree. \"This\nTiger,\" said the Brahman, \"begged me to let him out of his cage to drink\na little water, and he promised not to hurt me if I did so; but now,\nthat I have let him out, he wishes to eat me. Is it just that he should\ndo so or no?\"\n\nThe Banyan Tree answered: \"Men often come to take shelter in the cool\nshade under my boughs from the scorching rays of the sun; but when they\nhave rested, they cut and break my pretty branches and wantonly scatter\nmy leaves. Let the Tiger eat the man, for men are an ungrateful race.\"\n\nAt these words the Tiger would have instantly killed the Brahman, but\nthe Brahman said: \"Tiger, Tiger, you must not kill me yet, for you\npromised that we should first hear the judgment of six.\" \"Very well,\"\nsaid the Tiger, and they went on their way. After a little while they\nmet a camel. \"Sir Camel, Sir Camel,\" cried the Brahman, \"hear and give\njudgment.\" \"On what shall I give judgment?\" asked the Camel. And the\nBrahman related how the Tiger had begged him to open the cage door, and\npromised not to eat him if he did so; and how he had afterwards\ndetermined to break his word, and asked if that were just or not. The\nCamel replied: \"When I was young and strong, and could do much work, my\nmaster took care of me and gave me good food; but now that I am old, and\nhave lost all my strength in his service, he overloads me and starves me\nand beats me without mercy. Let the Tiger eat the man, for men are an\nunjust and cruel race.\"\n\nThe Tiger would then have killed the Brahman, but the latter said:\n\"Stop, Tiger, for we must first hear the judgment of six.\"\n\nSo they both went again on their way. At a little distance they found a\nbullock lying by the roadside. The Brahman said to him: \"Brother\nBullock, brother Bullock, hear and give judgment.\" \"On what must I give\njudgment?\" asked the Bullock. The Brahman answered: \"I found this Tiger\nin a cage, and he prayed me to open the door and let him out to drink a\nlittle water, and promised not to kill me if I did so; but when I had\nlet him out he resolved to put me to death. Is it fair that he should do\nso or not?\" The Bullock said: \"When I was able to work my master fed me\nwell and tended me carefully, but now I am old he has forgotten all I\ndid for him, and left me by the roadside to die. Let the Tiger eat the\nman, for men have no pity.\"\n\nThree out of the six had given judgment against the Brahman, but still\nhe did not lose all hope and determined to ask the other three.\n\nThey next met an eagle flying through the air, to whom the Brahman\ncried, \"O Eagle, great Eagle, hear and give judgment.\" \"On what must I\ngive judgment?\" asked the Eagle. The Brahman stated the case, and the\nEagle answered: \"Whenever men see me they try to shoot me; they climb\nthe rocks and steal away my little ones. Let the Tiger eat the man, for\nmen are the persecutors of the earth.\"\n\nThen the Tiger began to roar and said: \"The judgment of all is against\nyou, O Brahman!\" But the Brahman answered: \"Stay yet a little longer,\nfor two others must first be asked.\" After this they saw an alligator,\nand the Brahman related the matter to him, hoping for a more favorable\nverdict. But the Alligator said: \"Whenever I put my nose out of the\nwater men torment me and try to kill me. Let the Tiger eat the man, for\nas long as men live we shall have no rest.\"\n\nThe Brahman gave himself up as lost; but again he prayed the Tiger to\nhave patience and let him ask the opinion of the sixth judge. Now the\nsixth was a jackal. The Brahman told his story, and said to him: \"Uncle\nJackal, Uncle Jackal, say what is your judgment?\" The Jackal answered:\n\"It is impossible for me to decide who is in the right and who in the\nwrong unless I see the exact position in which you were when the dispute\nbegan. Show me the place.\" So the Brahman and the Tiger returned to the\nplace where they first met, and the Jackal went with them. When they got\nthere, the Jackal said: \"Now Brahman, show me exactly where you stood.\"\n\"Here,\" said the Brahman, standing by the iron tiger cage. \"Exactly\nthere, was it?\" asked the Jackal. \"Exactly here,\" replied the Brahman.\n\"Where was the Tiger, then?\" asked the Jackal. \"In the cage,\" answered\nthe Tiger. \"How do you mean?\" said the Jackal; \"how were you within the\ncage? which way were you looking?\" \"Why, I stood so,\" said the Tiger,\njumping into the cage, \"and my head was on this side.\" \"Very good,\" said\nthe Jackal, \"but I cannot judge without understanding the whole matter\nexactly. Was the cage door open or shut?\" \"Shut and bolted,\" said the\nBrahman. \"Then shut and bolt it,\" said the Jackal.\n\nWhen the Brahman had done this, the Jackal said: \"Oh, you wicked and\nungrateful Tiger! when the good Brahman opened your cage door, is to eat\nhim the only return you would make? Stay there, then, for the rest of\nyour days, for no one will ever let you out again. Proceed on your\njourney, friend Brahman. Your road lies that way and mine this.\"\n\nSo saying, the Jackal ran off in one direction, and the Brahman went\nrejoicing on his way in the other.\n\n\n\n\n_Muchie Lal_\n\n\nONCE upon a time there were a rajah and ranee who had no children. Long\nhad they wished and prayed that the gods would send them a son, but it\nwas all in vain--their prayers were not granted. One day a number of\nfish were brought into the royal kitchen to be cooked for the Rajah's\ndinner, and among them was one little fish that was not dead, though all\nthe rest were dead. One of the palace maid servants seeing this, took\nthe little fish and put him in a basin of water. Shortly afterwards the\nRanee saw him, and, thinking him very pretty, kept him as a pet; and\nbecause she had no children she lavished all her affection on the fish\nand loved him as a son; and the people called him Muchie Rajah (the Fish\nPrince). In a little while Muchie Rajah had grown too long to live in\nthe small basin, so they put him in a larger one, and then when he grew\ntoo long for that, into a big tub. In time, however, Muchie Rajah became\ntoo large for even the big tub to hold him, so the Ranee had a tank made\nfor him in which he lived very happily; and twice a day she fed him with\nboiled rice. Now, though the people fancied Muchie Rajah was only a\nfish, this was not the case. He was, in truth, a young rajah who had\nangered the gods, and been turned by them into a fish and thrown into\nthe river as a punishment.\n\nOne morning, when the Ranee brought him his daily meal of boiled rice,\nMuchie Rajah called out to her and said: \"Queen Mother, Queen Mother, I\nam so lonely here all by myself! Cannot you get me a wife?\" The Ranee\npromised to try, and sent messengers to all the people she knew to ask\nif they would allow one of their children to marry her son, the Fish\nPrince. But they all answered: \"We cannot give one of our dear little\ndaughters to be devoured by a great fish, even though he is the Muchie\nRajah and so high in your majesty's favor.\"\n\nAt news of this the Ranee did not know what to do. She was so foolishly\nfond of Muchie Rajah, however, that she resolved to get him a wife at\nany cost. Again she sent out messengers, but this time she gave them a\ngreat bag containing a lac of gold mohurs,[G] and said to them: \"Go into\nevery land until you find a wife for my Muchie Rajah, and to whoever\nwill give you a child to be the Muchie Ranee you shall give this bag of\ngold mohurs.\" The messengers started on their search, but for some time\nthey were unsuccessful. Not even the beggars were to be tempted to sell\ntheir children, fearing the great fish would devour them. At last one\nday the messengers came to a village where there lived a fakir, who had\nlost his first wife and married again. His first wife had had one little\ndaughter, and his second wife also had a daughter. As it happened, the\nFakir's second wife hated her little stepdaughter, always gave her the\nhardest work to do and the least food to eat, and tried by every means\nin her power to get her out of the way in order that the child might not\nrival her own daughter. When she heard of the errand on which the\nmessengers had come, she sent for them when the Fakir was out, and said\nto them: \"Give me the bag of gold mohurs, and you shall take my little\ndaughter to marry the Muchie Rajah.\" (\"For,\" she thought to herself,\n\"the great fish will certainly eat the girl, and she will thus trouble\nus no more.\") Then, turning to her stepdaughter, she said: \"Go down to\nthe river and wash your saree, that you may be fit to go with these\npeople, who will take you to the Ranee's court.\" At these words the poor\ngirl went down to the river very sorrowful, for she saw no hope of\nescape, as her father was from home. As she knelt by the riverside,\nwashing her saree and crying bitterly, some of her tears fell into the\nhole of an old seven-headed cobra, who lived on the river bank. This\nCobra was a very wise animal, and seeing the maiden, he put his head out\nof his hole and said to her, \"Little girl, why do you cry?\" \"Oh, sir,\"\nshe answered, \"I am very unhappy, for my father is from home, and my\nstepmother has sold me to the Ranee's people to be the wife of the\nMuchie Rajah, that great fish, and I know he will eat me up.\" \"Do not be\nafraid, my daughter,\" said the Cobra; \"but take with you these three\nstones and tie them up in the corner of your saree\"; and so saying he\ngave her three little round pebbles. \"The Muchie Rajah, whose wife you\nare to be, is not really a fish, but a rajah who has been enchanted.\nYour home will be a little room which the Ranee has had built in the\ntank wall. When you are taken there, wait and be sure you don't go to\nsleep or the Muchie Rajah will certainly come and eat you up. But as you\nhear him coming rushing through the water, be prepared, and as soon as\nyou see him throw this first stone at him; he will then sink to the\nbottom of the tank. The second time he comes, throw the second stone,\nwhen the same thing will happen. The third time he comes, throw this\nthird stone, and he will immediately resume his human shape.\" So saying,\nthe old Cobra dived down again into his hole. The Fakir's daughter took\nthe stones and determined to do as the Cobra had told her, though she\nhardly believed it would have the desired effect.\n\nWhen she reached the palace the Ranee spoke kindly to her, and said to\nthe messengers: \"You have done your errand well; this is a dear little\ngirl.\" Then she ordered that she should be let down the side of the tank\nin a basket to a little room which had been prepared for her. When the\nFakir's daughter got there, she thought she had never seen such a pretty\nplace in her life, for the Ranee had caused the little room to be very\nnicely decorated for the wife of her favorite; and she would have felt\nvery happy away from her cruel stepmother and all the hard work she had\nbeen made to do, had it not been for the dark water that lay black and\nunfathomable below the door, and the fear of the terrible Muchie Rajah.\n\nAfter waiting some time she heard a rushing sound, and little waves came\ndashing against the threshold; faster they came and faster, and the\nnoise got louder and louder, until she saw a great fish's head above the\nwater--Muchie Rajah was coming toward her open-mouthed. The Fakir's\ndaughter seized one of the stones that the Cobra had given her and threw\nit at him, and down he sank to the bottom of the tank; a second time he\nrose and came toward her, and she threw the second stone at him, and he\nagain sank down; a third time he came more fiercely than before, when,\nseizing the third stone, she threw it with all her force. No sooner did\nit touch him than the spell was broken, and there, instead of a fish,\nstood a handsome young prince. The poor little Fakir's daughter was so\nstartled that she began to cry. But the Prince said to her: \"Pretty\nmaiden, do not be frightened. You have rescued me from a horrible\nthraldom, and I can never thank you enough; but if you will be the\nMuchie Ranee, we will be married to-morrow.\" Then he sat down on the\ndoorstep, thinking over his strange fate and watching for the dawn.\n\n[Illustration: \"THE RANEE SAID, 'THIS IS A DEAR LITTLE GIRL'\"]\n\nNext morning early several inquisitive people came to see if the Muchie\nRajah had eaten up his poor little wife, as they feared he would; what\nwas their astonishment, on looking over the tank wall, to see, not the\nMuchie Rajah, but a magnificent prince! The news soon spread to the\npalace. Down came the Rajah, down came the Ranee, down came all their\nattendants and dragged Muchie Rajah and the Fakir's daughter up the side\nof the tank in a basket; and when they heard their story there were\ngreat and unparalleled rejoicings. The Ranee said: \"So I have indeed\nfound a son at last!\" And the people were so delighted, so happy and so\nproud of the new Prince and Princess that they covered all their path\nwith damask from the tank to the palace, and cried to their fellows:\n\"Come and see our new Prince and Princess. Were ever any so divinely\nbeautiful? Come see a right royal couple--a pair of mortals like the\ngods!\" And when they reached the palace the Prince was married to the\nFakir's daughter.\n\nThere they lived very happily for some time. The Muchie Ranee's\nstepmother, hearing what had happened, came often to see her\nstepdaughter, and pretended to be delighted at her good fortune; and\nthe Ranee was so good that she quite forgave all her stepmother's former\ncruelty, and always received her very kindly. At last, one day, the\nMuchie Ranee said to her husband: \"It is a weary while since I saw my\nfather. If you will give me leave, I should much like to visit my native\nvillage and see him again.\" \"Very well,\" he replied, \"you may go. But do\nnot stay away long, for there can be no happiness for me till you\nreturn.\" So she went, and her father was delighted to see her; but her\nstepmother, though she pretended to be very kind, was, in reality, only\nglad to think she had got the Ranee into her power, and determined, if\npossible, never to allow her to return to the palace again. One day\ntherefore she said to her own daughter: \"It is hard that your stepsister\nshould have become Ranee of all the land instead of being eaten up by\nthe great fish, while we gained no more than a lac of gold mohurs. Do\nnow as I bid you, that you may become ranee in her stead.\" She then went\non to instruct her how she must invite the Ranee down to the river bank,\nand there beg her to let her try on her jewels, and while putting them\non give her a push and drown her in the river.\n\nThe girl consented, and standing by the river bank, said to her\nstepsister: \"Sister, may I try on your jewels? How pretty they are!\"\n\"Yes,\" said the Ranee, \"and we shall be able to see in the river how\nthey look.\" So, undoing her necklaces, she clasped them around the\nother's neck. But while she was doing so her stepsister gave her a push,\nand she fell backward into the water. The girl watched to see that the\nbody did not rise, and then, running back, said to her mother: \"Mother,\nhere are all the jewels, and she will trouble us no more.\" But it\nhappened that just when her stepsister pushed the Ranee into the river\nher old friend the Seven-headed Cobra chanced to be swimming across it,\nand seeing the little Ranee likely to be drowned, he carried her on his\nback until they reached his hole, into which he took her safely. Now\nthis hole, in which the Cobra and his wife and all his little ones lived\nhad two entrances--the one under the water and leading to the river,\nand the other above water, leading out into the open fields. To this\nupper end of his hole the Cobra took the Muchie Ranee, where he and his\nwife took care of her; and there she lived with them for some time.\nMeanwhile, the wicked Fakir's wife, having dressed up her own daughter\nin all the Ranee's jewels, took her to the palace, and said to the\nMuchie Rajah: \"See, I have brought your wife, my dear daughter, back\nsafe and well.\" The Rajah looked at her, and thought, \"This does not\nlook like my wife.\" However, the room was dark and the girl was cleverly\ndisguised, and he thought he might be mistaken. Next day he said again:\n\"My wife must be sadly changed or this cannot be she, for she was always\nbright and cheerful. She had pretty loving ways and merry words, while\nthis woman never opens her lips.\" Still, he did not like to seem to\nmistrust his wife, and comforted himself by saying, \"Perhaps she is\ntired with the long journey.\" On the third day, however, he could bear\nthe uncertainty no longer, and tearing off her jewels saw, not the face\nof his own little wife, but another woman. Then he was very angry and\nturned her out of doors, saying: \"Begone! since you are but the wretched\ntool of others, I spare your life.\" But of the Fakir's wife he said to\nhis guards: \"Fetch that woman here instantly, for unless she can tell me\nwhere my wife is, I will have her hanged.\" It chanced, however, that the\nFakir's wife had heard of the Muchie Rajah having turned her daughter\nout of doors; so, fearing his anger, she hid herself, and was not to be\nfound.\n\nMeantime, the Muchie Ranee, not knowing how to get home, continued to\nlive in the great Seven-headed Cobra's hole, and he and his wife and all\nhis family were very kind to her, and loved her as if she had been one\nof them; and there her little son was born, and she called him Muchie\nLal,[H] after the Muchie Rajah, his father. Muchie Lal was a lovely\nchild, merry and brave, and his playmates all day long were the young\ncobras. When he was about three years old a bangle seller came by that\nway, and the Muchie Ranee bought some bangles from him and put them on\nher boy's wrists and ankles; but by the next day, in playing, he had\nbroken them all. Then, seeing the bangle seller, the Ranee called him\nagain and bought some more, and so on every day until the bangle seller\ngot quite rich from selling so many bangles for the Muchie Lal--for the\nCobra's hole was full of treasure, and he gave the Muchie Ranee as much\nmoney to spend every day as she liked. There was nothing she wished for\nhe did not give her, only he would not let her try to get home to her\nhusband, which she wished more than all. When she asked him he would\nsay: \"No, I will not let you go. If your husband comes here and fetches\nyou, it is well; but I will not allow you to wander in search of him\nthrough the land alone.\"\n\nAnd so she was obliged to stay where she was.\n\nAll this time the poor Muchie Rajah was hunting in every part of the\ncountry for his wife, but he could learn no tidings of her. For grief\nand sorrow at losing her he had gone well-nigh distracted, and did\nnothing but wander from place to place, crying, \"She is gone! she is\ngone!\" Then, when he had long inquired without avail of all the people\nin her native village about her, he one day met a bangle seller, and\nsaid to him, \"Whence do you come?\" The bangle seller answered: \"I have\njust been selling bangles to some people who live in a cobra's hole in\nthe river bank.\" \"People! What people?\" asked the Rajah. \"Why,\" answered\nthe bangle seller, \"a woman and a child. The child is the most beautiful\nI ever saw. He is about three years old, and of course, running about,\nis always breaking his bangles, and his mother buys him new ones every\nday.\" \"Do you know what the child's name is?\" said the Rajah. \"Yes,\"\nanswered the bangle seller carelessly, \"for the lady always calls him\nher Muchie Lal.\" \"Ah,\" thought the Muchie Rajah, \"this must be my wife.\"\nThen he said to him again: \"Good bangle seller, I would see these\nstrange people of whom you speak; cannot you take me there?\" \"Not\nto-night,\" replied the bangle seller; \"daylight has gone, and we should\nonly frighten them; but I shall be going there again to-morrow, and then\nyou may come too. Meanwhile, come and rest at my house for the night,\nfor you look faint and weary.\" The Rajah consented. Next morning,\nhowever, very early, he woke the bangle seller, saying: \"Pray let us go\nnow and see the people you spoke about yesterday.\" \"Stay,\" said the\nbangle seller; \"it is much too early. I never go till after breakfast.\"\nSo the Rajah had to wait till the bangle seller was ready to go. At last\nthey started off, and when they reached the Cobra's hole the first thing\nthe Rajah saw was a fine little boy playing with the young cobras.\n\nAs the bangle seller came along, jingling his bangles, a gentle voice\nfrom inside the hole called out: \"Come here, my Muchie Lal, and try on\nyour bangles.\" Then the Muchie Rajah, kneeling down at the mouth of the\nhole, said, \"O lady, show your beautiful face to me.\" At the sound of\nhis voice the Ranee ran out, crying, \"Husband, husband! have you found\nme again!\" And she told him how her sister had tried to drown her, and\nhow the good Cobra had saved her life and taken care of her and her\nchild. Then he said, \"And will you now come home with me?\" And she told\nhim how the Cobra would never let her go, and said: \"I will first tell\nhim of your coming; for he has been as a father to me.\" So she called\nout: \"Father Cobra, father Cobra, my husband has come to fetch me; will\nyou let me go?\" \"Yes,\" he said, \"if your husband has come to fetch you,\nyou may go.\" And his wife said: \"Farewell, dear lady, we are loth to\nlose you, for we have loved you as a daughter.\" And all the little\ncobras were very sorrowful to think that they must lose their\nplayfellow, the young Prince. Then the Cobra gave the Muchie Rajah and\nthe Muchie Ranee and Muchie Lal all the most costly gifts he could find\nin his treasure-house, and so they went home, where they lived very\nhappy ever after.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[Footnote G: A lac of gold mohurs is equal to about $750,000.]\n\n[Footnote H: Little Ruby Fish.]\n\n\n\n\n_The Valiant Chatteemaker_\n\n\nONCE upon a time, in a violent storm of thunder, lightning, wind, and\nrain, a tiger crept for shelter close to the wall of an old woman's hut.\nThis old woman was very poor, and her hut was but a tumble-down place,\nthrough the roof of which the rain came drip, drip, drip, on more sides\nthan one. This troubled her much, and she went running about from side\nto side, dragging first one thing and then another out of the way of the\nleaky places in the roof, and as she did so she kept saying to herself:\n\"Oh, dear! oh, dear! how tiresome this is! I'm sure the roof will come\ndown! If an elephant, or a lion, or a tiger were to walk in, he wouldn't\nfrighten me half so much as this perpetual dripping.\" And then she would\nbegin dragging the bed and all the other things in the room about again,\nto get them out of the way of the wet. The tiger, who was crouching down\njust outside, heard all that she said, and thought to himself: \"This old\nwoman says she would not be afraid of an elephant, or a lion, or a\ntiger, but that this perpetual dripping frightens her more than all.\nWhat can this 'perpetual dripping' be?--it must be something very\ndreadful.\" And hearing her immediately afterwards dragging all the\nthings about the room again, he said to himself: \"What a terrible noise!\nSurely that must be the 'perpetual dripping.'\"\n\nAt this moment a Chatteemaker,[I] who was in search of his donkey, which\nhad strayed away, came down the road. The night being very cold, he had,\ntruth to say, taken a little more toddy than was good for him, and\nseeing, by the glare of a flash of lightning, a large animal lying down\nclose to the old woman's hut, he mistook it for the donkey he was\nlooking for.\n\nSo, running up to the tiger, he seized hold of it by one ear, and\ncommenced beating, kicking, and abusing it with all his might and main.\n\"You wretched creature!\" he cried, \"is this the way you serve me,\nobliging me to come out and look for you in such pouring rain and on\nsuch a dark night as this? Get up instantly or I'll break every bone in\nyour body\"; so he went on scolding and thumping the tiger with his\nutmost power, for he had worked himself up into a terrible rage. The\ntiger did not know what to make of it all, but he began to feel quite\nfrightened, and said to himself: \"Why, this must be the 'perpetual\ndripping'; no wonder the old woman said she was more afraid of it than\nof an elephant, a lion, or a tiger, for it gives most dreadfully hard\nblows.\"\n\nThe Chatteemaker, having made the tiger get up, got on his back and\nforced him to carry him home, kicking and beating him the whole way, for\nall this time he fancied he was on his donkey; and then he tied his\nforefeet and his head firmly together, and fastened him to a post in\nfront of his house, and when he had done this he went to bed.\n\nNext morning, when the Chatteemaker's wife got up and looked out of the\nwindow, what did she see but a great big tiger tied up, in front of\ntheir house, to the post to which they usually fastened the donkey. She\nwas very much surprised, and running to her husband, awoke him, saying:\n\"Do you know what animal you fetched home last night?\" \"Yes, the donkey,\nto be sure,\" he answered. \"Come and see,\" said she, and she showed him\nthe great tiger tied to the post. The Chatteemaker at this was no less\nastonished than his wife, and felt himself all over to find if the tiger\nhad not wounded him. But, no, he was safe and sound, and there was the\ntiger tied to the post, just as he had fastened it up the night before.\n\nNews of the Chatteemaker's exploit soon spread through the village, and\nall the people came to see him and hear him tell how he had caught the\ntiger and tied it to the post; and this they thought so wonderful that\nthey sent a deputation to the Rajah, with a letter to tell him how a man\nof their village had, alone and unarmed, caught a great tiger and tied\nit to a post.\n\nWhen the Rajah read the letter he also was much surprised, and\ndetermined to go in person and see this astonishing sight. So he sent\nfor his horses and carriages, his lords and attendants, and they all set\noff together to look at the Chatteemaker and the tiger he had caught.\n\nNow the tiger was a very large one, and had long been the terror of the\nwhole country around, which made the whole matter still more\nextraordinary; and all this being represented to the Rajah, he\ndetermined to confer all possible honor on the valiant Chatteemaker. So\nhe gave him houses and lands, and as much money as would fill a well,\nmade him a lord of his court, and conferred on him the command of ten\nthousand horse.\n\nIt came to pass, shortly after this, that a neighboring rajah, who had\nlong had a quarrel with this one, sent to announce his intention of\ngoing instantly to war with him; and tidings were brought at the same\ntime that the Rajah who sent the challenge had gathered a great army\ntogether on the borders, and was prepared at a moment's notice to invade\nthe country.\n\nIn this dilemma no one knew what to do. The Rajah sent for all his\ngenerals, and inquired of them which would be willing to take command of\nhis forces and oppose the enemy. They all replied that the country was\nso ill prepared for the emergency, and the case was apparently so\nhopeless, that they would rather not take the responsibility of the\nchief command. The Rajah knew not whom to appoint in their stead. Then\nsome of his people said to him: \"You have lately given the command of\nten thousand horse to the valiant Chatteemaker who caught the tiger. Why\nnot make him commander-in-chief? A man who could catch a tiger and tie\nhim to a post, must surely be more courageous and clever than most.\"\n\"Very well,\" said the Rajah, \"I will make him commander-in-chief.\" So he\nsent for the Chatteemaker and said to him: \"In your hands I place all\nthe power of the kingdom; you must put our enemies to flight for us.\"\n\"So be it,\" answered the Chatteemaker; \"but, before I lead the whole\narmy against the enemy, suffer me to go by myself and examine their\nposition, and, if possible, find out their numbers and strength.\"\n\nThe Rajah consented, and the Chatteemaker returned home to his wife and\nsaid: \"They have made me commander-in-chief, which is a very difficult\npost for me to fill, because I shall have to ride at the head of all the\narmy, and you know I never was on a horse in my life. But I have\nsucceeded in gaining a little delay, as the Rajah has given me\npermission to go first alone and reconnoiter the enemy's camp. Do you\ntherefore provide a very quiet pony, for you know I cannot ride, and I\nwill start to-morrow morning.\"\n\nBut, before the Chatteemaker had started, the Rajah sent over to him a\nmost magnificent charger richly caparisoned, which he begged he would\nride when going to see the enemy's camp. The Chatteemaker was frightened\nalmost out of his life, for the charger that the Rajah had sent him was\nvery powerful and spirited, and he felt sure that even if he ever got on\nit, he should very soon tumble off; however, he did not dare to refuse\nit, for fear of offending the Rajah by not accepting his present. So he\nsent back to him a message of thanks, and said to his wife: \"I cannot go\non the pony, now that the Rajah has sent me this fine horse; but how am\nI ever to ride it?\" \"Oh, don't be frightened,\" she answered; \"you've\nonly to get upon it, and I will tie you firmly on so that you cannot\ntumble off, and if you start at night no one will see that you are tied\non.\" \"Very well,\" he said.\n\nSo that night his wife brought the horse that the Rajah had sent him to\nthe door. \"Indeed,\" said the Chatteemaker, \"I can never get into that\nsaddle, it is so high up.\" \"You must jump,\" said his wife. So he tried\nto jump several times, but each time he jumped he tumbled down again. \"I\nalways forget when I am jumping,\" said he, \"which way I ought to turn.\"\n\"Your face must be toward the horse's head,\" she answered. \"To be sure,\nof course,\" he cried, and giving one great jump he jumped into the\nsaddle, but with his face toward the horse's tail. \"This won't do at\nall,\" said his wife as she helped him down again; \"try getting on\nwithout jumping.\" \"I never can remember,\" he continued, \"when I have got\nmy left foot in the stirrup, what to do with my right foot or where to\nput it.\" \"That must go in the other stirrup,\" she answered; \"let me help\nyou.\" So after many trials in which he tumbled down very often, for the\nhorse was fresh and did not like standing still, the Chatteemaker got\ninto the saddle; but no sooner had he got there than he cried: \"Oh,\nwife, wife! tie me very firmly as quickly as possible, for I know I\nshall jump down if I can.\" Then she fetched some strong rope and tied\nhis feet firmly into the stirrups, fastened one stirrup to the other,\nand put another rope around his waist and another around his neck, and\nfastened them to the horse's body and neck and tail.\n\nWhen the horse felt all these ropes about him he could not imagine what\nqueer creature had got upon his back, and he began rearing and kicking\nand prancing, and at last set off full gallop, as fast as he could tear,\nright across country. \"Wife, wife!\" cried the Chatteemaker, \"you forgot\nto tie my hands.\" \"Never mind,\" said she, \"hold on by the mane.\" So he\ncaught hold of the horse's mane as firmly as he could. Then away went\nhorse, away went Chatteemaker--away, away, away over hedges, over\nditches, over rivers, over plains--away, away like a flash of\nlightning--now this way, now that--on, on, on, gallop, gallop,\ngallop--until they came in sight of the enemy's camp.\n\nThe Chatteemaker did not like his ride at all, and when he saw where it\nwas leading him he liked it still less, for he thought the enemy would\ncatch him and very likely kill him. So he determined to make one\ndesperate effort to be free, and stretching out his hand as the horse\nshot past a young banyan tree, seized hold of it with all his might,\nhoping that the resistance it offered might cause the ropes that tied\nhim to break. But the horse was going at his utmost speed, and the soil\nin which the banyan tree grew was loose, so that when the Chatteemaker\ncaught hold of it and gave it such a violent pull it came up by the\nroots, and on he rode as fast as before, with the tree in his hand.\n\nAll the soldiers in the camp saw him coming, and, having heard that an\narmy was to be sent against them, made sure that the Chatteemaker was\none of the vanguard. \"See,\" cried they, \"here comes a man of gigantic\nstature on a mighty horse! He rides at full speed across the country,\ntearing up the very trees in his rage! He is one of the opposing force;\nthe whole army must be close at hand. If they are such as he, we are all\ndead men.\" Then, running to their Rajah, some of them cried again: \"Here\ncomes the whole force of the enemy\" (for the story had by this time\nbecome exaggerated); \"they are men of gigantic stature, mounted on\nmighty horses; as they come they tear up the very trees in their rage;\nwe can oppose men, but not monsters such as these.\" These were followed\nby others, who said: \"It is all true,\" for by this time the Chatteemaker\nhad got pretty near the camp; \"they're coming! they're coming! let us\nfly! let us fly--fly, fly for your lives!\" And the whole panic-stricken\nmultitude fled from the camp, those who had seen no cause for alarm\ngoing because the others did, or because they did not care to stay by\nthemselves, after having obliged their Rajah to write a letter to the\none whose country he was about to invade, to say that he would not do\nso, and to propose terms of peace, and to sign it and seal it with his\nseal. Scarcely had all the people fled from the camp when the horse on\nwhich the Chatteemaker was came galloping into it, and on his back rode\nthe Chatteemaker, almost dead from fatigue, with the banyan tree in his\nhand. Just as he reached the camp the ropes by which he was tied broke,\nand he fell to the ground. The horse stood still, too tired with his\nlong run to go farther. On recovering his senses, the Chatteemaker\nfound, to his surprise, that the whole camp, full of rich arms, clothes,\nand trappings, was entirely deserted. In the principal tent, moreover,\nhe found a letter addressed to his Rajah, announcing the retreat of the\ninvading army and proposing terms of peace.\n\nSo he took the letter and returned home with it as fast as he could,\nleading his horse all the way, for he was afraid to mount him again. It\ndid not take him long to reach his house by the direct road, for while\nriding he had gone a more circuitous journey than was necessary, and he\nreached there just at nightfall. His wife ran out to meet him, overjoyed\nat his speedy return. As soon as he saw her, he said: \"Ah, wife, since I\nsaw you last I've been all around the world, and had many wonderful and\nterrible adventures. But never mind that now: send this letter quickly\nto the Rajah by a messenger, and send the horse also that he sent for me\nto ride. He will then see, by the horse looking so tired, what a long\nride I've had; and if he is sent on beforehand, I shall not be obliged\nto ride him up to the palace door to-morrow morning, as I otherwise\nshould, and that would be very tiresome, for most likely I should tumble\noff.\" So his wife sent the horse and the letter to the Rajah, and a\nmessage that her husband would be at the palace early next morning, as\nit was then late at night. And next day he went down there, as he had\nsaid he would; and when the people saw him coming, they said: \"This man\nis as modest as he is brave; after having put our enemies to flight, he\nwalks quite simply to the door, instead of riding here in state, as\nanother man would.\" For they did not know that the Chatteemaker walked\nbecause he was afraid to ride.\n\nThe Rajah came to the palace door to meet him, and paid him all possible\nhonor. Terms of peace were agreed upon between the two countries, and\nthe Chatteemaker was rewarded for all he had done, by being given twice\nas much rank and wealth as he had before, and he lived very happily all\nthe rest of his life.\n\n\nTHE END\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[Footnote I: Potter.]\n\n\n * * * * *\n\nTranscriber's Notes:\n\nObvious punctuation errors repaired.\n\nPage 18, \"the\" changed to \"The\" (The crone answered)\n\nPage 41, word \"time\" added to text. Original read (home by this,\" said)\n\nPage 47, \"re\" changed to \"are\" (if they are not dead)\n\nPage 200, illustration facing, \"MICHEAL\" changed to \"MICHAEL\" (MICHAEL,\nPETRIFIED, STOOD)\n\nPage 215, \"preseverance\" changed to \"perseverance\" (perseverance of her\nlover)\n\nPage 304, \"pased\" changed to \"passed\" (a year passed away)","title":"The Fairy Ring","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":167094}