{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_48032/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_48032","id":"gutenberg_48032","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/48032","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Short Stories","Fairy tales"],"text":"Produced by Al Haines.\n\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: ILONKA LEFT WITH THE SWINEHERD]\n\n\n\n\n                            *THE MAGIC RING*\n\n                          *AND OTHER STORIES*\n\n               *FROM THE YELLOW AND CRIMSON FAIRY BOOKS*\n\n\n                               EDITED BY\n\n                              ANDREW LANG\n\n\n\n                    WITH A COLOURED FRONTISPIECE AND\n                       NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS BY\n                             HENRY J. FORD\n\n\n\n                            _NEW IMPRESSION_\n\n\n\n                        LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.\n                       39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON\n                          NEW YORK AND BOMBAY\n                                  1906\n\n                         _All rights reserved_\n\n\n\n\n                               *CONTENTS*\n\nThe Magic Ring\nThe White Duck\nLovely Ilonka\nClever Maria\nThe Language of Beasts\nThe Cat and the Mouse in Partnership\nThe Six Swans\nThe Story of the Emperor's New Clothes\nThe Golden Crab\nThe Iron Stove\nThe Dragon and his Grandmother\nThe Donkey Cabbage\nLucky Luck\nTo Your Good Health!\n\n\n\n\n                            *ILLUSTRATIONS*\n\n                             COLOURED PLATE\n\nIlonka left with the Swineherd . . . . . . _Frontispiece_\n\n\n                            FULL-PAGE PLATES\n\nMartin extinguishes the Flames\nThe Witch persuades the Queen to bathe\nThe First Bulrush Maiden flies away\nClever Maria.\nMaria and the King\nThe Shepherd comes to the Arch of Snakes\nThe Six Brothers changed into Swans by their Stepmother\nThe Prince throws the Apple to the Princess\nThe Iron Stove.\nThe Faithful Servant and the Three Eagles\nThe Faithful Servant turns into Stone\nThe Complaint of the Three Maidens\nStaring-Eyes in the White Bear's Pit\n\n\n                              IN THE TEXT\n\nThe Princess summons the Twelve Young Men\nSchurka upsets the Baker\nThe Mouse steals the Ring from the Princess\nThe King catches the White Duck\nThe Partnership\nAt Home in the Church\nProtestation\nThe Way of the World\nAnd then her Dress\nThe Emperor comes to see his New Clothes\nLet down, let down thy Petticoat\nThe Fisherman brings the Crab on the Golden Cushion\nThen She reached the three Cutting Swords\nThe Dragon carries off the Three Soldiers\nThe Fiend defeated\nThe Maiden obtains the Bird-Heart\nThe Hunter is transformed into a Donkey\nThe Young Man gives the Donkeys to the Miller\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 a hundred of her florins, and giving them to\nMartin told him to go into the town and lay in a store of meal for a\nyear.\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 a 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 hundred florins, and buy provisions with them.  I have just emptied\nthe last grains of meal out of the chest, and baked a bannock; but it\nwon'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 round the\npoor beast's neck.\n\n'Stop,' cried Martin; 'where are you dragging that poor cat?'\n\n'I mean to drown him,' 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 him, sell him to me instead,' begged Martin.\n\n'Not for a hundred florins,' was the answer.\n\n'Surely for a hundred florins you'll sell it?' said Martin, 'See! here\nis the money'; and, so saying, he handed him the hundred florins, which\nthe peasant pocketed, and Martin took possession of the cat, which was\ncalled 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';\nand as Martin did not dare 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 labourer,' he answered.\n\n'Come along with me, then.  But I must tell you I engage my labourers\nwithout wages.  If you serve me faithfully for a year, I promise you it\nshall be for 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:\n\n'There must be some trick about this; I had better take the sand.'  And\nthrowing the sack over his shoulders he started out into the world, in\nsearch of fresh work.  On and on he walked, and at last he reached a\ngreat gloomy wood.  In the middle of the wood he came upon a meadow,\nwhere a fire was burning, and in the midst of the fire, surrounded by\nflames, was a lovely damsel, more beautiful than anything that Martin\nhad ever seen, and when she saw him she called to him:\n\n'Martin, if you would win happiness, save my life.  Extinguish the\nflames with the sand that you earned in payment of your faithful\nservice.'\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 fire\nwas extinguished; but at the same moment lo! and behold the lovely\ndamsel turned into a Serpent, and, darting upon him, coiled itself round\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\nthrough the world.  But first you must follow me boldly into my Father's\nKingdom, underneath the earth; and when we get there, remember this--he\nwill offer you gold and silver, and dazzling gems, but do not touch\nthem.  Ask him, instead, for the ring which he wears on his little\nfinger, for in that ring lies a magic power; you have only to throw it\nfrom one hand to the other, and at once twelve young men will appear,\nwho will do your bidding, no matter how difficult, in a single night.'\n\n[Illustration: Martin extinguishes the flames.]\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,\nwhich led out on to a wide field, above which spread a blue sky.  In the\nmiddle of the field stood a magnificent castle, built out of porphyry,\nwith a roof of gold and with glittering battlements.  And his beautiful\nguide told him that this was the palace in which her father lived and\nreigned over 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 favour, 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\nsame road by which he had come down into the Under-world. When he had\nregained the upper air he started for his old home, and having found his\nmother still living in the old house where he had left her, they settled\ndown together very happily. So uneventful was their life that it almost\nseemed as if it would go on in this way always, without let or\nhindrance.  But one day it suddenly came into his mind that he would\nlike to get married, and, moreover, that he would choose a very grand\nwife--a King's daughter, in short.  But as he did not trust himself as a\nwooer, he determined 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 someone 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\nheads are worth.  Neither my life nor yours would be worth anything if I\nwent on 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\nkind.'\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\nforbidden to mount those steps.  But their stern words and forbidding\ngestures made no impression whatever on the old woman, and, she\nresolutely continued to climb the stairs, bent on carrying out her son's\norders.  Upon this some of the courtiers seized her by the arms, and\nheld her back by sheer force, at which she set up such a yell that the\nKing himself heard it, and stepped out on to the balcony to see what was\nthe matter.  When he beheld the old woman flinging her arms wildly\nabout, and heard her scream that she would not leave the place till she\nhad laid her case before the King, he ordered that she should be brought\ninto his presence.  And forthwith she was conducted into the golden\npresence chamber, where, leaning back amongst cushions of royal purple,\nthe King sat, surrounded by his counsellors and courtiers.  Courtesying\nlow, the old woman stood silent before him.  'Well, my good old dame,\nwhat 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\nI am 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\nthat he cannot do.  Now tell me, O King, plump and plain, will you give\nyour daughter to my son as wife?'  The King listened to the end of the\nold woman's strange request, but every moment his face grew blacker, and\nhis features sterner; till all at once he thought to himself, 'Is it\nworth while that I, the King, should be angry with this poor old fool?'\nAnd all the courtiers and counsellors were amazed when they saw the hard\nlines round his mouth and the frown on his brow grow smooth, and heard\nthe mild but mocking tones in which he 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 four and twenty hours.  The\npalace 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 are 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 round the King's lips as he finished speaking, and\nhis courtiers and counsellors 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 she\nasked:\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,\nhe shall be rewarded with my daughter; but if he fails, away to the\ntar-barrel 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 someone 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 burnt in the public\nmarket-place.  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\npalm of one hand into the other, upon which twelve youths instantly\nappeared, and demanded what he wanted them to do.  Then he told them the\nKing's commands, and they answered that by the next morning all should\nbe accomplished 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 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\nKing would much rather have seen his future son-in-law tarred,\nfeathered, and burnt at the stake, he remembered his royal oath, and had\nto make the best of a bad business.  So he took heart of grace, and made\nMartin a Duke, and gave his daughter a rich dowry, and prepared the\ngrandest wedding-feast that had ever been seen, so that to this day the\nold people 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\nher time wondering how she should get rid of her undesirable husband.\nAnd first she determined to learn the secret of his power, and, with\nflattering, caressing words, she tried to coax him to tell her how he\nwas so clever that there was nothing in the world that he could not do.\nAt first 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\nhad worked, and that he was sound asleep, the Princess took the magic\nring from his finger, and, going into the courtyard, she threw it from\nthe palm of one hand into the other.  On the instant the twelve youths\nappeared, and asked her what she commanded them to do.  Then she told\nthem that by the next morning they were to do away with the castle, and\nthe bridge, and the church, and put in their stead the humble hut in\nwhich Martin used to live with his mother, and that while he slept her\nhusband was to be carried to his old lowly room; and that they were to\nbear her away to the utmost ends of the earth, where an old King lived\nwho would make her welcome in his palace, and surround her with the\nstate that befitted a royal Princess.\n\n[Illustration: The Princess summons the Twelve Young Men]\n\n'You shall be obeyed,' answered the twelve youths at the same moment.\nAnd lo and behold! the following morning, when the King awoke 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\nfather-in-law, and answered never a word.  Then the King was very angry,\nand, calling a council together, he charged Martin with having been\nguilty of witchcraft, and of having deceived the King, and having made\naway with the Princess; and he was condemned to imprisonment in a high\nstone tower, with neither meat nor drink, till he should die of\nstarvation.\n\n[Illustration: Schurka upsets the baker.]\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, and scratched the\nback of her ear with a velvet paw, and remained lost in thought.  At the\nend of a few minutes she had made up her mind, and, turning to Schurka,\nsaid: 'Let us go together into the town, and the moment we meet a baker\nyou must make a rush between his legs and upset the tray from off his\nhead; I will lay hold of the rolls, and will carry them off to our\nmaster.'  No sooner said than done.  Together the two faithful creatures\ntrotted off into the town, and very soon they met a baker bearing a tray\non his head, and looking round 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.\n\nWaska, being very agile, climbed up by the outside to the grated window,\nand 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\na roll, and then another, and another, till she had brought him the\nwhole tray-load.  Upon which she said: 'Dear master, Schurka and I are\ngoing off to a distant kingdom at the utmost ends of the earth to fetch\nyou back your magic ring.  You must be careful that the rolls last till\nour return.'\n\nAnd Waska took leave of her beloved master, and set off with Schurka on\ntheir journey. On and on they travelled, looking always to right and\nleft for traces of the Princess, following up every track, making\ninquiries of every cat and dog they met, listening to the talk of every\nwayfarer they passed; and at last they heard that the kingdom at the\nutmost ends of the earth where the twelve youths had borne the Princess\nwas not very far off.  And at last one day they reached that distant\nkingdom, and, going at once to the palace, they began to make friends\nwith all the dogs and cats in the place, and to question them about the\nPrincess and the magic ring; but no one could tell them much about\neither.  Now one day it chanced that Waska had gone down to the palace\ncellar to hunt for mice and rats, and seeing an especially fat, well-fed\nmouse, she pounced upon it, buried her claws in its soft fur, and was\njust going to gobble it up, when she was stopped by the pleading tones\nof the little creature, saying, 'If you will only spare my life I may be\nof great service to you.  I will do everything in my power for you; for\nI am the King of the Mice, 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\nget it away from her at whatever cost; do you hear?  Till you have done\nthis I 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 grey, assembled, and formed a circle\nround 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 honour 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\n[Illustration: The Mouse steals the Ring from the Princess]\n\nAnd the tiny mouse tripped away into the bedroom of the Princess, and\nwaited for night-fall; then, when the Princess had fallen asleep, it\ncrept up on to her bed, and gnawed a hole in the pillow, through which\nit dragged 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 travelled night and day\ntill they reached the stone tower where Martin was imprisoned; and the\ncat climbed 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 you\nwill know nothing but happiness and prosperity.  If this were a moment\nto trouble you with riddles, I would make you guess what Schurka and I\nhave brought you back.  Only think, we have got 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\nmusic, and to the clatter of plates, and glass, and knives and forks;\nand the music was so enchantingly sweet that all the passers-by stood\nstill to listen to it.  On this the King sent at once a messenger to the\nStarvation Tower, and he was so astonished with what he saw that he\nremained rooted to the spot.  Then the King sent his chief counsellors,\nand they too were transfixed with wonder.  At last the King came\nhimself, and he likewise was spellbound by the beauty of the music.\n\nThen Martin summoned the twelve youths, spoke to them, saying, 'Build up\nmy castle again, and join it to the King's palace with a crystal bridge;\ndo not 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\nwife, and lead her into the women's chamber.'\n\nAnd it was all done as he commanded, and, leaving the Starvation Tower,\nhe took the King, his father-in-law, by the arm, and led him into the\nnew palace, where the Princess sat in fear and trembling, awaiting her\ndeath.  And Martin spoke to the King, saying, 'King and royal father, I\nhave suffered much at the hands of your daughter.  What punishment shall\nbe dealt 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 favour.'\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\nhim, 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                            *THE WHITE DUCK*\n\n\nOnce upon a time a great and powerful King married a lovely Princess.\nNo couple were ever so happy; but before their honeymoon was over they\nwere forced to part, for the King had to go on a warlike expedition to a\nfar country, and leave his young wife alone at home.  Bitter were the\ntears she shed, while her husband sought in vain to soothe her with\nwords of comfort and counsel, warning her, above all things, never to\nleave the castle, to hold no intercourse with strangers, to beware of\nevil counsellors, and especially to be on her guard against strange\nwomen.  And the Queen promised faithfully to obey her royal lord and\nmaster in these four matters.\n\n[Illustration: The witch persuades the Queen to bathe.]\n\nSo when the King set out on his expedition she shut herself up with her\nladies in her own apartments, and spent her time in spinning and\nweaving, and in thinking of her royal husband. Often she was very sad\nand lonely, and it happened that one day while she was seated at the\nwindow, letting salt tears drop on her work, an old woman, a kind,\nhomely-looking old body, stepped up to the window, and, leaning upon her\ncrutch, addressed the Queen in friendly, flattering tones, saying:\n\n'Why are you sad and cast down, fair Queen? You should not mope all day\nin your rooms, but should come out into the green garden, and hear the\nbirds sing with joy among the trees, and see the butterflies fluttering\nabove the flowers, and hear the bees and insects hum, and watch the\nsunbeams chase the dew-drops through the rose-leaves and in the\nlily-cups.  All the brightness outside would help to drive away your\ncares, O Queen.'\n\nFor long the Queen resisted her coaxing words, remembering the promise\nshe had given the King, her husband; but at last she thought to herself:\nAfter all, what harm would it do if I were to go into the garden for a\nshort time and enjoy myself among the trees and flowers, and the singing\nbirds and fluttering butterflies and humming insects, and look at the\ndew-drops hiding from the sunbeams in the hearts of the roses and\nlilies, and wander about in the sunshine instead of remaining all day in\nthis room? For she had no idea that the kind-looking old woman leaning\non her crutch was in reality a wicked witch, who envied the Queen her\ngood fortune, and was determined to ruin her. And so, in all ignorance,\nthe Queen followed her out into the garden and listened to her smooth,\nflattering words.  Now, in the middle of the garden there was a pond of\nwater, clear as crystal, and the old woman said to the Queen:\n\n'The day is so warm, and the sun's rays so scorching, that the water in\nthe pond looks very cool and inviting.  Would you not like to bathe in\nit, fair Queen?'\n\n'No, I think not,' answered the Queen; but the next moment she regretted\nher words, and thought to herself: Why shouldn't I bathe in that cool,\nfresh water?  No harm could come of it.  And, so saying, she slipped off\nher robes and stepped into the water.  But scarcely had her tender feet\ntouched the cool ripples when she felt a great shove on her shoulders,\nand the wicked witch had pushed her into the deep water, exclaiming:\n\n'Swim henceforth, White Duck!'\n\nAnd the witch herself assumed the form of the Queen, and decked herself\nout in the royal robes, and sat among the Court ladies, awaiting the\nKing's return.  And suddenly the tramp of horses' hoofs was heard, and\nthe barking of dogs, and the witch hastened forward to meet the royal\ncarriages, and throwing her arms round the King's neck, kissed him.  And\nin his great joy the King did not know that the woman he held in his\narms was not his own dear wife, but a wicked witch.\n\nIn the meantime, outside the palace walls, the poor White Duck swam up\nand down the pond; and near it laid three eggs, out of which there came\none morning two little fluffy ducklings and a little ugly drake.  And\nthe White Duck brought the little creatures up, and they paddled after\nher in the pond, and caught gold-fish, and hopped upon the bank and\nwaddled about, ruffling their feathers and saying 'Quack, quack' as they\nstrutted about on the green banks of the pond. But their mother used to\nwarn them not to stray too far, telling them that a wicked witch lived\nin the castle beyond the garden, adding, 'She has ruined me, and she\nwill do her best to ruin you.'  But the young ones did not listen to\ntheir mother, and playing about the garden one day, they strayed close\nup to the castle windows.  The witch at once recognised them by their\nsmell, and ground her teeth with anger; but she hid her feelings, and,\npretending to be very kind, she called them to her and joked with them,\nand led them into a beautiful room, where she gave them food to eat, and\nshowed them a soft cushion on which they might sleep.  Then she left\nthem and went down into the palace kitchens, where she told the servants\nto sharpen the knives, and to make a great fire ready, and hang a large\nkettleful of water over it.\n\nIn the meantime the two little ducklings had fallen asleep, and the\nlittle drake lay between them, covered up by their wings, to be kept\nwarm under their feathers.  But the little drake could not go to sleep,\nand as he lay there wide awake in the night he heard the witch come to\nthe door and say:\n\n'Little ones, are you asleep?'\n\nAnd the little drake answered for the other two:\n\n    'We cannot sleep, we wake and weep.\n    Sharp is the knife, to take our life;\n    The fire is hot, now boils the pot,\n    And so we wake, and lie and quake.'\n\n'They are not asleep yet,' muttered the witch to herself; and she walked\nup and down in the passage, and then came back to the door, and said:\n\n'Little ones, are you asleep?'\n\nAnd again the little drake answered for his sisters:\n\n    'We cannot sleep, we wake and weep,\n    Sharp is the knife, to take our life;\n    The fire is hot, now boils the pot,\n    And so we wake, and lie and quake.'\n\n'Just the same answer,' muttered the witch; 'I think I'll go in and\nsee.'  So she opened the door gently, and seeing the two little\nducklings sound asleep, she there and then killed them.\n\nThe next morning the White Duck wandered round the pond in a distracted\nmanner, looking for her little ones; she called and she searched, but\ncould find no trace of them.  And in her heart she had a foreboding that\nevil had befallen them, and she fluttered up out of the water and flew\nto the palace.  And there, laid out on the marble floor of the court,\ndead and stone cold, were her three children.  The White Duck threw\nherself upon them, and, covering up their little bodies with her wings,\nshe cried:\n\n    'Quack, quack--my little loves!\n    Quack, quack--my turtle doves!\n    I brought you up with grief and pain,\n    And now before my eyes you're slain.\n    I gave you always of the best;\n    I kept you warm in my soft nest.\n    I loved and watched you day and night--\n    You were my joy, my one delight.'\n\nThe King heard the sad complaint of the White Duck, and called to the\nwitch: 'Wife, what a wonder is this?  Listen to that White Duck.'\n\nBut the witch answered, 'My dear husband, what do you mean?  There is\nnothing wonderful in a duck's quacking.  Here, servants!  Chase that\nduck out of the courtyard.'  But though the servants chased and chevied,\nthey could not get rid of the duck; for she circled round and round, and\nalways came back to the spot where her children lay, crying:\n\n    'Quack, quack--my little loves!\n    Quack, quack--my turtle-doves!\n    The wicked witch your lives did take--\n    The wicked witch, the cunning snake.\n    First she stole my King away,\n    Then my children did she slay.\n    Changed me, from a happy wife,\n    To a duck for all my life.\n    Would I were the Queen again;\n    Would that you had ne'er been slain.'\n\nAnd as the King heard her words he began to suspect that he had been\ndeceived, and he called out to the servants, 'Catch that duck, and bring\nit here.'  But, though they ran to and fro, the duck always fled past\nthem, and would not let herself be caught.  So the King himself stepped\ndown amongst them, and instantly the duck fluttered down into his hands.\nAnd as he stroked her wings she was changed into a beautiful woman, and\nhe recognised his dear wife.  And she told him that a bottle would be\nfound in her nest in the garden, containing some drops from the spring\nof healing.  And it was brought to her; and the ducklings and little\ndrake were sprinkled with the water, and from the little dead bodies\nthree lovely children arose. And the King and Queen were overjoyed when\nthey saw the children, and they all lived happily together in the\nbeautiful palace.  But the wicked witch was taken by the King's command,\nand she came to no good end.\n\n[Illustration: The King catches the White Duck.]\n\n\n\n\n                            *LOVELY ILONKA*\n\n\nThere was once a King's son who told his father that he wished to marry.\n\n'No, no!' said the King; 'you must not be in such a hurry.  Wait till\nyou have done some great deed.  My father did not let me marry till I\nhad won the golden sword you see me wear.'\n\nThe Prince was much disappointed, but he never dreamed of disobeying his\nfather, and he began to think with all his might what he could do.  It\nwas no use staying at home, so one day he wandered out into the world to\ntry his luck, and as he walked along he came to a little hut in which he\nfound an old woman crouching over the fire.\n\n'Good evening, mother.  I see you have lived long in this world; do you\nknow anything about the three bulrushes?'\n\n'Yes, indeed, I've lived long and been much about in the world, but I\nhave never seen or heard anything of what you ask.  Still, if you will\nwait till to-morrow I may be able to tell you something.'\n\nWell, he waited till the morning, and quite early the old woman appeared\nand took out a little pipe and blew in it, and in a moment all the crows\nin the world were flying about her.  Not one was missing.  Then she\nasked if they knew anything about the three bulrushes, but not one of\nthem did.\n\nThe Prince went on his way, and a little further on he found another hut\nin which lived an old man.  On being questioned the old man said he knew\nnothing, but begged the Prince to stay overnight, and the next morning\nthe old man called all the ravens together, but they too had nothing to\ntell.\n\nThe Prince bade him farewell and set out.  He wandered so far that he\ncrossed seven kingdoms, and at last, one evening, he came to a little\nhouse in which was an old woman.\n\n'Good evening, dear mother,' said he politely.\n\n'Good evening to you, my dear son,' answered the old woman.  'It is\nlucky for you that you spoke to me or you would have met with a horrible\ndeath.  But may I ask where are you going?'\n\n'I am seeking the three bulrushes.  Do you know anything about them?'\n\n'I don't know anything myself, but wait till to-morrow.  Perhaps I can\ntell you then.'  So the next morning she blew on her pipe, and lo! and\nbehold every magpie in the world flew up. That is to say, all the\nmagpies except one who had broken a leg and a wing.  The old woman sent\nafter it at once, and when she questioned the magpies the crippled one\nwas the only one who knew where the three bulrushes were.\n\nThen the Prince started off with the lame magpie.  They went on and on\ntill they reached a great stone wall, many, many feet high.\n\n'Now, Prince,' said the Magpie, 'the three bulrushes are behind that\nwall.'\n\n[Illustration: THE FIRST BULRUSH MAIDEN FLIES AWAY]\n\nThe Prince wasted no time.  He set his horse at the wall and leaped over\nit.  Then he looked about for the three bulrushes, pulled them up and\nset off with them on his way home.  As he rode along one of the\nbulrushes happened to knock against something.  It split open and, only\nthink! out sprang a lovely girl, who said: 'My heart's love, you are\nmine and I am yours; do give me a glass of water.'\n\nBut how could the Prince give it her when there was no water at hand?\nSo the lovely maiden flew away.  He split the second bulrush as an\nexperiment and just the same thing happened.\n\nHow careful he was of the third bulrush!  He waited till he came to a\nwell, and there he split it open, and out sprang a maiden seven times\nlovelier than either of the others, and she too said: 'My heart's love,\nI am yours and you are mine; do give me a glass of water.'\n\nThis time the water was ready and the girl did not fly away, but she and\nthe Prince promised to love each other always.  Then they set out for\nhome.\n\nThey soon reached the Prince's country, and as he wished to bring his\npromised bride back in a fine coach he went on to the town to fetch one.\nIn the field where the well was, the King's swineherds and cowherds were\nfeeding their droves, and the Prince left Ilonka (for that was her name)\nin their care.\n\nUnluckily the chief swineherd had an ugly old daughter, and whilst the\nPrince was away he dressed her up in fine clothes, and threw Ilonka into\nthe well.\n\nThe Prince returned before long, bringing with him his father and mother\nand a great train of courtiers to escort Ilonka home.  But how they all\nstared when they saw the swineherd's ugly daughter!  However, there was\nnothing for it but to take her home; and, two days later, the Prince\nmarried her, and his father gave up the crown to him.\n\nBut he had no peace!  He knew very well he had been cheated, though he\ncould not think how.  Once he desired to have some water brought him\nfrom the well into which Ilonka had been thrown.  The coachman went for\nit and, in the bucket he pulled up, a pretty little duck was swimming.\nHe looked wonderingly at it, and all of a sudden it disappeared and he\nfound a dirty-looking girl standing near him. The girl returned with him\nand managed to get a place as housemaid in the palace.\n\nOf course she was very busy all day long, but whenever she had a little\nspare time she sat down to spin.  Her distaff turned of itself and her\nspindle span by itself and the flax wound itself off; and however much\nshe might use there was always plenty left.\n\nWhen the Queen--or, rather, the swineherd's daughter--heard of this, she\nvery much wished to have the distaff, but the girl flatly refused to\ngive it to her.  However, at last she consented on condition that she\nmight sleep one night in the King's room.  The Queen was very angry, and\nscolded her well; but as she longed to have the distaff she consented,\nthough she gave the King a sleeping draught at supper.\n\nThen the girl went to the King's room looking seven times lovelier than\never.  She bent over the sleeper and said: 'My heart's love, I am yours\nand you are mine.  Speak to me but once; I am your Ilonka.'  But the\nKing was so sound asleep he neither heard nor spoke, and Ilonka left the\nroom, sadly thinking he was ashamed to own her.\n\nSoon after the Queen again sent to say that she wanted to buy the\nspindle.  The girl agreed to let her have it on the same conditions as\nbefore; but this time, also, the Queen took care to give the King a\nsleeping draught.  And once more Ilonka went to the King's room and\nspoke to him; whisper as sweetly as she might she could get no answer.\n\nNow some of the King's servants had taken note of the matter, and warned\ntheir master not to eat and drink anything that the Queen offered him,\nas for two nights running she had given him a sleeping draught.  The\nQueen had no idea that her doings had been discovered; and when, a few\ndays later, she wanted the flax, and had to pay the same price for it,\nshe felt no fears at all.\n\nAt supper that night the Queen offered the King all sorts of nice things\nto eat and drink, but he declared he was not hungry, and went early to\nbed.\n\nThe Queen repented bitterly her promise to the girl, but it was too late\nto recall it; for Ilonka had already entered the King's room, where he\nlay anxiously waiting for something, he knew not what.  All of a sudden\nhe saw a lovely maiden who bent over him and said: 'My dearest love, I\nam yours and you are mine. Speak to me, for I am your Ilonka.'\n\nAt these words the King's heart bounded within him.  He sprang up and\nembraced and kissed her, and she told him all her adventures since the\nmoment he had left her.  And when he heard all that Ilonka had suffered,\nand how he had been deceived, he vowed he would be revenged; so he gave\norders that the swineherd, his wife and daughter should all be hanged;\nand so they were.\n\nThe next day the King was married, with great rejoicings, to the fair\nIlonka; and if they are not yet dead--why, they are still living.\n\n\n\n\n                             *CLEVER MARIA*\n\n\nThere was once a merchant who lived close to the royal palace, and had\nthree daughters.  They were all pretty, but Maria, the youngest, was the\nprettiest of the three.  One day the King sent for the merchant, who was\na widower, to give him directions about a journey he wished the good man\nto take.  The merchant would rather not have gone, as he did not like\nleaving his daughters at home, but he could not refuse to obey the\nKing's commands, and with a heavy heart he returned home to say farewell\nto them. Before he left, he took three pots of basil, and gave one to\neach girl, saying, 'I am going a journey, but I leave these pots.  You\nmust let nobody into the house.  When I come back, they will tell me\nwhat has happened.'  'Nothing will have happened,' said the girls.\n\n[Illustration: CLEVER MARIA]\n\nThe father went away, and the following day the King, accompanied by two\nfriends, paid a visit to the three girls, who were sitting at supper.\nWhen they saw who was there, Maria said, 'Let us go and get a bottle of\nwine from the cellar.  I will carry the key, my eldest sister can take\nthe light, while the other brings the bottle.'  But the King replied,\n'Oh, do not trouble; we are not thirsty.'  'Very well, we will not go,'\nanswered the two elder girls; but Maria merely said, 'I shall go,\nanyhow.'  She left the room, and went to the hall where she put out the\nlight, and putting down the key and the bottle, ran to the house of a\nneighbour, and knocked at the door.  'Who is there so late?' asked the\nold woman, thrusting her head out of the window.\n\n'Oh, let me in,' answered Maria.  'I have quarrelled with my eldest\nsister, and as I do not want to fight any more, I have come to beg you\nto allow me to sleep with you.'\n\nSo the old woman opened the door and Maria slept in her house.  The King\nwas very angry at her for playing truant, but when she returned home the\nnext day, she found the plants of her sisters withered away, because\nthey had disobeyed their father.  Now the window in the room of the\neldest overlooked the gardens of the King, and when she saw how fine and\nripe the medlars were on the trees, she longed to eat some, and begged\nMaria to scramble down by a rope and pick her a few, and she would draw\nher up again.  Maria, who was good-natured, swung herself into the\ngarden by the rope, and got the medlars, and was just making the rope\nfast under her arms so as to be hauled up, when her sister cried: 'Oh,\nthere are such delicious lemons a little farther on.  You might bring me\none or two.'  Maria turned round to pluck them, and found herself face\nto face with the gardener, who caught hold of her, exclaiming, 'What are\nyou doing here, you little thief?'  'Don't call me names,' she said, 'or\nyou will get the worst of it,' giving him as she spoke such a violent\npush that he fell panting into the lemon bushes.  Then she seized the\ncord and clambered up to the window.\n\nThe next day the second sister had a fancy for bananas and begged so\nhard, that, though Maria had declared she would never do such a thing\nagain, at last she consented, and went down the rope into the King's\ngarden.  This time she met the King, who said to her, 'Ah, here you are\nagain, cunning one!  Now you shall pay for your misdeeds.'\n\nAnd he began to cross-question her about what she had done.  Maria\ndenied nothing, and when she had finished, the King said again, 'Follow\nme to the house, and there you shall pay the penalty.'  As he spoke, he\nstarted for the house, looking back from time to time to make sure that\nMaria had not run away.  All of a sudden, when he glanced round, he\nfound she had vanished completely, without leaving a trace of where she\nhad gone.  Search was made all through the town, and there was not a\nhole or corner which was not ransacked, but there was no sign of her\nanywhere.  This so enraged the King that he became quite ill, and for\nmany months his life was despaired of.\n\nMeanwhile the two elder sisters had married the two friends of the King,\nand were the mothers of little daughters.  Now one day Maria stole\nsecretly to the house where her elder sister lived, and snatching up the\nchildren put them into a beautiful basket she had with her, covered with\nflowers inside and out, so that no one would ever guess it held two\nbabies. Then she dressed herself as a boy, and placing the basket on her\nhead she walked slowly past the palace, crying as she went:\n\n'Who will carry these flowers to the King, who lies sick of love?'\n\nAnd the King in his bed heard what she said, and ordered one of his\nattendants to go out and buy the basket.  It was brought to his bedside,\nand as he raised the lid cries were heard, and peeping in he saw two\nlittle children.  He was furious at this new trick which he felt had\nbeen played on him by Maria, and was still looking at them, wondering\nhow he should pay her out, when he was told that the merchant, Maria's\nfather, had finished the business on which he had been sent and returned\nhome.  Then the King remembered how Maria had refused to receive his\nvisit, and how she had stolen his fruit, and he determined to be\nrevenged on her.  So he sent a message by one of his pages that the\nmerchant was to come to see him the next day, and bring with him a coat\nmade of stone, or else he would be punished.  Now the poor man had been\nvery sad since he got home the evening before, for though his daughters\nhad promised that nothing should happen while he was away, he had found\nthe two elder ones married without asking his leave.  And now there was\nthis fresh misfortune, for how was he to make a coat of stone?  He wrung\nhis hands and declared that the King would be the ruin of him, when\nMaria suddenly entered.  'Do not grieve about the coat of stone, dear\nfather; but take this bit of chalk, and go to the palace and say you\nhave come to measure the King.'  The old man did not see the use of\nthis, but Maria had so often helped him before that he had confidence in\nher, so he put the chalk in his pocket and went to the palace.\n\n'That is no good,' said the King when the merchant had told him what he\nhad come for.\n\n'Well, I can't make the coat you want,' replied he.\n\n'Then if you would save your head, hand over to me your daughter Maria.'\n\nThe merchant did not reply, but went sorrowfully back to his house,\nwhere Maria sat waiting for him.\n\n'Oh, my dear child, why was I born?  The King says that, instead of the\ncoat, I must deliver you up to him.'\n\n'Do not be unhappy, dear father, but get a doll made, exactly like me,\nwith a string attached to its head, which I can pull for \"Yes\" and\n\"No.\"'\n\nSo the old man went out at once to see about it.\n\nThe King remained patiently in his palace, feeling sure that this time\nMaria could not escape him; and he said to his pages, 'If a gentleman\nshould come here with his daughter and ask to be allowed to speak with\nme, put the young lady in my room and see she does not leave it.'\n\nWhen the door was shut on Maria, who had concealed the doll under her\ncloak, she hid herself under the couch, keeping fast hold of the string\nwhich was fastened to its head.\n\n[Illustration: MARIA & THE KING]\n\n'Senhora Maria, I hope you are well,' said the King when he entered the\nroom.  The doll nodded.  'Now we will reckon up accounts,' continued he,\nand he began at the beginning, and ended up with the flower-basket, and\nat each fresh misdeed Maria pulled the string, so that the doll's head\nnodded assent.  'Whoso mocks at me merits death,' declared the King when\nhe had ended, and drawing his sword, cut off the doll's head.  It fell\ntowards him, and as he felt the touch of a kiss, he exclaimed, 'Ah,\nMaria, Maria, so sweet in death, so hard to me in life! The man who\ncould kill you deserves to die!'  And he was about to turn his sword on\nhimself, when the true Maria sprang out from under the bed, and flung\nherself into his arms.  And the next day they were married and lived\nhappily for many years.\n\n\n\n\n                        *THE LANGUAGE OF BEASTS*\n\n\nOnce upon a time a man had a shepherd who served him many years\nfaithfully and honestly. One day, whilst herding his flock, this\nshepherd heard a hissing sound, coming out of a forest near by, which he\ncould not account for.  So he went into the wood in the direction of the\nnoise to try to discover the cause.  When he approached the place he\nfound that the dry grass and leaves were on fire, and on a tree,\nsurrounded by flames, a snake was coiled, hissing with terror.\n\nThe shepherd stood wondering how the poor snake could escape, for the\nwind was blowing the flames that way, and soon that tree would be\nburning like the rest.  Suddenly the snake cried: 'O shepherd! for the\nlove of heaven save me from this fire!'\n\n[Illustration: THE SHEPHERD COMES TO THE ARCH OF SNAKES]\n\nThen the shepherd stretched his staff out over the flames and the snake\nwound itself round the staff and up to his hand, and from his hand it\ncrept up his arm, and twined itself about his neck.  The shepherd\ntrembled with fright, expecting every instant to be stung to death, and\nsaid: 'What an unlucky man I am!  Did I rescue you only to be destroyed\nmyself?'  But the snake answered: 'Have no fear; only carry me home to\nmy father who is the King of the Snakes.'  The shepherd, however, was\nmuch too frightened to listen, and said that he could not go away and\nleave his flock alone; but the snake said: 'You need not be afraid to\nleave your flock, no evil shall befall them; but make all the haste you\ncan.'\n\nSo he set off through the wood carrying the snake, and after a time he\ncame to a great gateway, made entirely of snakes intertwined one with\nanother.  The shepherd stood still with surprise, but the snake round\nhis neck whistled, and immediately all the arch unwound itself.\n\n'When we are come to my father's house,' said his own snake to him, 'he\nwill reward you with anything you like to ask--silver, gold, jewels, or\nwhatever on this earth is most precious: but take none of all these\nthings, ask rather to understand the language of beasts.  He will refuse\nit to you a long time, but in the end he will grant it to you.'\n\nSoon after that they arrived at the house of the King of the Snakes, who\nburst into tears of joy at the sight of his daughter, as he had given\nher up for dead.  'Where have you been all this time?' he asked,\ndirectly he could speak, and she told him that she had been caught in a\nforest fire, and had been rescued from the flames by the shepherd.  The\nKing of the Snakes, then turning to the shepherd, said to him: 'What\nreward will you choose for saving my child?'\n\n'Make me to know the language of beasts,' answered the shepherd, 'that\nis all I desire.'\n\nThe king replied: 'Such knowledge would be of no benefit to you, for if\nI granted it to you and you told anyone of it, you would immediately\ndie; ask me rather for whatever else you would most like to possess, and\nit shall be yours.'\n\nBut the shepherd answered him: 'Sir, if you wish to reward me for saving\nyour daughter, grant me, I pray you, to know the language of beasts.  I\ndesire nothing else'; and he turned as if to depart.\n\nThen the king called him back, saying: 'If nothing else will satisfy\nyou, open your mouth.'  The man obeyed, and the king spat into it, and\nsaid: 'Now spit into my mouth.'  The shepherd did as he was told, then\nthe King of the Snakes spat again into the shepherd's mouth.  When they\nhad spat into each other's mouths three times, the king said:\n\n'Now you know the language of beasts, go in peace; but, if you value\nyour life, beware lest you tell anyone of it, else you will immediately\ndie.'\n\nSo the shepherd set out for home, and on his way through the wood he\nheard and understood all that was said by the birds, and by every living\ncreature.  When he got back to his sheep he found the flock grazing\npeacefully, and as he was very tired he laid himself down by them to\nrest a little.  Hardly had he done so when two ravens flew down and\nperched on a tree near by, and began to talk to each other in their own\nlanguage: 'If that shepherd only knew that there is a vault full of gold\nand silver beneath where that lamb is lying, what would he not do?'\nWhen the shepherd heard these words he went straight to his master and\ntold him, and the master at once took a waggon, and broke open the door\nof the vault, and they carried off the treasure.  But instead of keeping\nit for himself, the master, who was an honourable man, gave it all up to\nthe shepherd, saying: 'Take it, it is yours.  The gods have given it to\nyou.'  So the shepherd took the treasure and built himself a house.  He\nmarried a wife, and they lived in great peace and happiness, and he was\nacknowledged to be the richest man, not only of his native village, but\nof all the country-side. He had flocks of sheep, and cattle, and horses\nwithout end, as well as beautiful clothes and jewels.\n\nOne day, just before Christmas, he said to his wife: 'Prepare everything\nfor a great feast, to-morrow we will take things with us to the farm\nthat the shepherds there may make merry.'  The wife obeyed, and all was\nprepared as he desired.  Next day they both went to the farm, and in the\nevening the master said to the shepherds: 'Now come, all of you, eat,\ndrink, and make merry.  I will watch the flocks myself to-night in your\nstead.'  Then he went out to spend the night with the flocks.\n\nWhen midnight struck the wolves howled and the dogs barked, and the\nwolves spoke in their own tongue, saying:\n\n'Shall we come in and work havoc, and you too shall eat flesh?'  And the\ndogs answered in their tongue: 'Come in, and for once we shall have\nenough to eat.'\n\nNow amongst the dogs there was one so old that he had only two teeth\nleft in his head, and he spoke to the wolves, saying: 'So long as I have\nmy two teeth still in my head, I will let no harm be done to my master.'\n\nAll this the master heard and understood, and as soon as morning dawned\nhe ordered all the dogs to be killed excepting the old dog.  The farm\nservants wondered at this order, and exclaimed: 'But surely, sir, that\nwould be a pity.'\n\nThe master answered: 'Do as I bid you'; and made ready to return home\nwith his wife, and they mounted their horses, her steed being a mare.\nAs they went on their way, it happened that the husband rode on ahead,\nwhile the wife was a little way behind.  The husband's horse, seeing\nthis, neighed, and said to the mare: 'Come along, make haste; why are\nyou so slow?'  And the mare answered: 'It is very easy for you, you\ncarry only your master, who is a thin man, but I carry my mistress, who\nis so fat that she weighs as much as three.'  When the husband heard\nthat he looked back and laughed, which the wife perceiving, she urged on\nthe mare till she caught up with her husband, and asked him why he\nlaughed.  'For nothing at all,' he answered; 'just because it came into\nmy head.'  She would not be satisfied with this answer, and urged him\nmore and more to tell her why he had laughed.  But he controlled himself\nand said: 'Let me be, wife; what ails you?  I do not know myself why I\nlaughed.'  But the more he put her off, the more she tormented him to\ntell her the cause of his laughter.  At length he said to her: 'Know,\nthen, that if I tell it you I shall immediately and surely die.'  But\neven this did not quiet her; she only besought him the more to tell her.\nMeanwhile they had reached home, and before getting down from his horse\nthe man called for a coffin to be brought; and when it was there he\nplaced it in front of the house, and said to his wife:\n\n'See, I will lay myself down in this coffin, and will then tell you why\nI laughed, for as soon as I have told you I shall surely die.'  So he\nlay down in the coffin, and while he took a last look around him, his\nold dog came out from the farm and sat down by him, and whined.  When\nthe master saw this, he called to his wife: 'Bring a piece of bread to\ngive to the dog.'  The wife brought some bread and threw it to the dog,\nbut he would not look at it.  Then the farm cock came and pecked at the\nbread; but the dog said to it: 'Wretched glutton, you can eat like that\nwhen you see that your master is dying?'  The cock answered: 'Let him\ndie, if he is so stupid. I have a hundred wives, which I call together\nwhen I find a grain of corn, and as soon as they are there I swallow it\nmyself; should one of them dare to be angry, I would give her a lesson\nwith my beak.  He has only one wife, and he cannot keep her in order.'\n\nAs soon as the man understood this, he got up out of the coffin, seized\na stick, and called his wife into the room, saying: 'Come, and I will\ntell you what you so much want to know'; and then he began to beat her\nwith the stick, saying with each blow: 'It is that, wife, it is that!'\nAnd in this way he taught her never again to ask why he had laughed.\n\n\n\n\n                 *THE CAT AND THE MOUSE IN PARTNERSHIP*\n\n\n[Illustration: THE PARTNERSHIP]\n\nA cat had made acquaintance with a Mouse, and had spoken so much of the\ngreat love and friendship she felt for her, that at last the Mouse\nconsented to live in the same house with her, and to go shares in the\nhousekeeping.  'But we must provide for the winter or else we shall\nsuffer hunger,' said the Cat.  'You, little Mouse, cannot venture\neverywhere in case you run at last into a trap.'  This good counsel was\nfollowed, and a little pot of fat was bought.  But they did not know\nwhere to put it.  At length, after long consultation, the Cat said, 'I\nknow of no place where it could be better put than in the church.  No\none will trouble to take it away from there.  We will hide it in a\ncorner, and we won't touch it till we are in want.'  So the little pot\nwas placed in safety; but it was not long before the Cat had a great\nlonging for it, and said to the Mouse, 'I wanted to tell you, little\nMouse, that my cousin has a little son, white with brown spots, and she\nwants me to be godmother to it.  Let me go out to-day, and do you take\ncare of the house alone.'\n\n[Illustration: AT HOME IN THE CHURCH]\n\n'Yes, go, certainly,' replied the Mouse, 'and when you eat anything\ngood, think of me; I should very much like a drop of the red christening\nwine.'\n\nBut it was all untrue.  The Cat had no cousin, and had not been asked to\nbe godmother.  She went straight to the church, slunk to the little pot\nof fat, began to lick it, and licked the top off.  Then she took a walk\non the roofs of the town, looked at the view, stretched herself out in\nthe sun, and licked her lips whenever she thought of the little pot of\nfat.  As soon as it was evening she went home again.\n\n'Ah, here you are again!' said the Mouse; 'you must certainly have had\nan enjoyable day.'\n\n'It went off very well,' answered the Cat.\n\n'What was the child's name?' asked the Mouse.\n\n'Top Off,' said the Cat drily.\n\n'Topoff!' echoed the Mouse; 'it is indeed a wonderful and curious name.\nIs it in your family?'\n\n'What is there odd about it?' said the Cat. 'It is not worse than\nBreadthief, as your god-child is called.'\n\nNot long after this another great longing came over the Cat.  She said\nto the Mouse, 'You must again be kind enough to look after the house\nalone, for I have been asked a second time to stand godmother, and as\nthis child has a white ring round its neck, I cannot refuse.'\n\nThe kind Mouse agreed, but the Cat slunk under the town wall to the\nchurch, and ate up half of the pot of fat.  'Nothing tastes better,'\nsaid she, 'than what one eats by oneself,' and she was very much pleased\nwith her day's work. When she came home the Mouse asked, 'What was this\nchild called?'\n\n'Half Gone,' answered the Cat.\n\n'Halfgone! what a name!  I have never heard it in my life.  I don't\nbelieve it is in the calendar.'\n\nSoon the Cat's mouth began to water once more after her licking\nbusiness.  'All good things in threes,' she said to the Mouse; 'I have\nagain to stand godmother.  The child is quite black, and has very white\npaws, but not a single white hair on its body.  This only happens once\nin two years, so you will let me go out!'\n\n'Topoff!  Halfgone!' repeated the Mouse; 'they are such curious names;\nthey make me very thoughtful.'\n\n'Oh, you sit at home in your dark grey coat and your long tail,' said\nthe Cat, 'and you get fanciful.  That comes of not going out in the\nday.'\n\nThe Mouse had a good cleaning out while the Cat was gone, and made the\nhouse tidy; but the greedy Cat ate the fat every bit up.  'When it is\nall gone one can be at rest,' she said to herself, and at night she came\nhome sleek and satisfied. The Mouse asked at once after the third\nchild's name.\n\n'It won't please you any better,' said the Cat; 'he was called Clean\nGone.'\n\n'Cleangone!' repeated the Mouse.  'I do not believe that name has been\nprinted any more than the others.  Cleangone!  What can it mean?'  She\nshook her head, curled herself up, and went to sleep.\n\nFrom this time on no one asked the Cat to stand godmother; but when the\nwinter came and there was nothing to be got outside, the Mouse\nremembered their provision and said: 'Come, Cat, we will go to our pot\nof fat which we have stored away; it will taste very good.'\n\n'Yes, indeed,' answered the Cat; 'it will taste as good to you as if you\nstretched your thin tongue out of the window.'\n\nThey started off, and when they reached it they found the pot in its\nplace, but quite empty!\n\n'Ah,' said the Mouse, 'now I know what has happened!  It has all come\nout!  You are a true friend to me!  You have eaten it all when you stood\ngodmother; first the top off, then half of it gone, then----'\n\n[Illustration: PROTESTATION.  The Way of the World]\n\n'Will you be quiet?' screamed the Cat. 'Another word and I will eat you\nup.'\n\n'Cleangone' was already on the poor Mouse's tongue, and scarcely was it\nout than the Cat made a spring at her, seized and swallowed her.\n\nYou see that is the way of the world.\n\n\n\n\n                            *THE SIX SWANS*\n\n\nA king was once hunting in a great wood, and he hunted the game so\neagerly that none of his courtiers could follow him.  When evening came\non he stood still and looked round him, and he saw that he had quite\nlost himself. He sought a way out, but could find none. Then he saw an\nold woman with a shaking head coming towards him; but she was a witch.\n\n'Good woman,' he said to her, 'can you not show me the way out of the\nwood?'\n\n'Oh, certainly, Sir King,' she replied, 'I can quite well do that, but\non one condition, which if you do not fulfil you will never get out of\nthe wood, and will die of hunger.'\n\n'What is the condition?' asked the King.\n\n'I have a daughter,' said the old woman, 'who is so beautiful that she\nhas not her equal in the world, and is well fitted to be your wife; if\nyou will make her lady-queen I will show you the way out of the wood.'\n\nThe King in his anguish of mind consented, and the old woman led him to\nher little house where her daughter was sitting by the fire.  She\nreceived the King as if she were expecting him, and he saw that she was\ncertainly very beautiful; but she did not please him, and he could not\nlook at her without a secret feeling of horror. As soon as he had lifted\nthe maiden on to his horse the old woman showed him the way, and the\nKing reached his palace, where the wedding was celebrated.\n\nThe King had already been married once, and had by his first wife seven\nchildren, six boys and one girl, whom he loved more than anything in the\nworld.  And now, because he was afraid that their stepmother might not\ntreat them well and might do them harm, he put them in a lonely castle\nthat stood in the middle of a wood.  It lay so hidden, and the way to it\nwas so hard to find, that he himself could not have found it out had not\na wise-woman given him a reel of thread which possessed a marvellous\nproperty: when he threw it before him it unwound itself and showed him\nthe way.  But the King went so often to his dear children that the Queen\nwas offended at his absence.  She grew curious, and wanted to know what\nhe had to do quite alone in the wood.  She gave his servants a great\ndeal of money, and they betrayed the secret to her, and also told her of\nthe reel which alone could point out the way.  She had no rest now till\nshe had found out where the King guarded the reel, and then she made\nsome little white shirts, and, as she had learnt from her witch-mother,\nsewed an enchantment in each of them.\n\nAnd when the King had ridden off she took the little shirts and went\ninto the wood, and the reel showed her the way.  The children, who saw\nsomeone coming in the distance, thought it was their dear father coming\nto them, and sprang to meet him very joyfully.  Then she threw over each\none a little shirt, which when it had touched their bodies changed them\ninto swans, and they flew away over the forest.  The Queen went home\nquite satisfied, and thought she had got rid of her step-children; but\nthe girl had not run to meet her with her brothers, and she knew nothing\nof her.\n\nThe next day the King came to visit his children, but he found no one\nbut the girl.\n\n[Illustration: The Six Brothers Changed Into Swans by Their Stepmother]\n\n'Where are your brothers?' asked the King.\n\n'Alas! dear father,' she answered, 'they have gone away and left me all\nalone.'  And she told him that looking out of her little window she had\nseen her brothers flying over the wood in the shape of swans, and she\nshowed him the feathers which they had let fall in the yard, and which\nshe had collected.  The King mourned, but he did not think that the\nQueen had done the wicked deed, and as he was afraid the maiden would\nalso be taken from him, he wanted to take her with him.  But she was\nafraid of the stepmother, and begged the King to let her stay just one\nnight more in the castle in the wood.  The poor maiden thought, 'My home\nis no longer here; I will go and seek my brothers.'  And when night came\nshe fled away into the forest. She ran all through the night and the\nnext day, till she could go no farther for weariness.  Then she saw a\nlittle hut, went in, and found a room with six little beds.  She was\nafraid to lie down on one, so she crept under one of them, lay on the\nhard floor, and was going to spend the night there.  But when the sun\nhad set she heard a noise, and saw six swans flying in at the window.\nThey stood on the floor and blew at one another, and blew all their\nfeathers off, and their swan-skin came off like a shirt.  Then the\nmaiden recognised her brothers, and overjoyed she crept out from under\nthe bed.  Her brothers were not less delighted than she to see their\nlittle sister again, but their joy did not last long.\n\n'You cannot stay here,' they said to her. 'This is a den of robbers; if\nthey were to come here and find you they would kill you.'\n\nCould you not protect me?' asked the little sister.\n\n'No,' they answered, 'for we can only lay aside our swan-skins for a\nquarter of an hour every evening.  For this time we regain our human\nforms, but then we are changed into swans again.'\n\nThen the little sister cried and said, 'Can you not be freed?'\n\n'Oh, no,' they said, 'the conditions are too hard.  You must not speak\nor laugh for six years, and must make in that time six shirts for us out\nof star-flowers.  If a single word comes out of your mouth, all your\nlabour is vain.'  And when the brothers had said this the quarter of an\nhour came to an end, and they flew away out of the window as swans.\n\nBut the maiden had determined to free her brothers even if it should\ncost her her life.  She left the hut, went into the forest, climbed a\ntree, and spent the night there.  The next morning she went out,\ncollected star-flowers, and began to sew.  She could speak to no one,\nand she had no wish to laugh, so she sat there, looking only at her\nwork.\n\nWhen she had lived there some time, it happened that the King of that\ncountry was hunting in the forest, and his hunters came to the tree on\nwhich the maiden sat.  They called to her and said, 'Who are you?'\n\nBut she gave no answer.\n\n'Come down to us,' they said, 'we will do you no harm.'\n\nBut she shook her head silently.  As they pressed her further with\nquestions, she threw them the golden chain from her neck.  But they did\nnot leave off, and she threw them her girdle, and when this was no use,\nher garters, and then her dress.  The huntsmen would not leave her\nalone, but climbed the tree, lifted the maiden down, and led her to the\nKing.  The King asked, 'Who are you?  What are you doing up that tree?'\n\n[Illustration: 'And then her dress.']\n\nBut she answered nothing.\n\nHe asked her in all the languages he knew, but she remained as dumb as a\nfish.  Because she was so beautiful, however, the King's heart was\ntouched, and he was seized with a great love for her.  He wrapped her up\nin his cloak, placed her before him on his horse, and brought her to his\ncastle.  There he had her dressed in rich clothes, and her beauty shone\nout as bright as day, but not a word could be drawn from her. He set her\nat table by his side, and her modest ways and behaviour pleased him so\nmuch that he said, 'I will marry this maiden and none other in the\nworld,' and after some days he married her. But the King had a wicked\nmother who was displeased with the marriage, and said wicked things of\nthe young Queen.  'Who knows who this girl is?' she said; 'she cannot\nspeak, and is not worthy of a king.'\n\nAfter a year, when the Queen had her first child, the old mother took it\naway from her. Then she went to the King and said that the Queen had\nkilled it.  The King would not believe it, and would not allow any harm\nto be done her.  But she sat quietly sewing at the shirts and troubling\nherself about nothing.  The next time she had a child the wicked mother\ndid the same thing, but the King could not make up his mind to believe\nher.  He said, 'She is too sweet and good to do such a thing as that.\nIf she were not dumb and could defend herself, her innocence would be\nproved.'  But when the third child was taken away, and the Queen was\nagain accused, and could not utter a word in her own defence, the King\nwas obliged to give her over to the law, which decreed that she must be\nburnt to death.  When the day came on which the sentence was to be\nexecuted, it was the last day of the six years in which she must not\nspeak or laugh, and now she had freed her dear brothers from the power\nof the enchantment. The six shirts were done; there was only the left\nsleeve wanting to the last.\n\nWhen she was led to the stake, she laid the shirts on her arm, and as\nshe stood on the pile and the fire was about to be lighted, she looked\naround her and saw six swans flying through the air.  Then she knew that\nher release was at hand and her heart danced for joy.  The swans\nfluttered round her, and hovered low so that she could throw the shirts\nover them.  When they had touched them the swan-skins fell off, and her\nbrothers stood before her living, well and beautiful.  Only the youngest\nhad a swan's wing instead of his left arm.  They embraced and kissed\neach other, and the Queen went to the King, who was standing by in great\nastonishment, and began to speak to him saying, 'Dearest husband, now I\ncan speak and tell you openly that I am innocent and have been falsely\naccused.'\n\nShe told him of the old woman's deceit, and how she had taken the three\nchildren away and hidden them.  Then they were fetched, to the great joy\nof the King, and the wicked mother came to no good end.\n\nBut the King and the Queen with their six brothers lived many years in\nhappiness and peace.\n\n\n\n\n                  *STORY OF THE EMPEROR'S NEW CLOTHES*\n\n\nMany years ago there lived an Emperor who was so fond of new clothes\nthat he spent all his money on them in order to be beautifully dressed.\nHe did not care about his soldiers, he did not care about the theatre;\nhe only liked to go out walking to show off his new clothes.  He had a\ncoat for every hour of the day; and just as they say of a king, 'He is\nin the council-chamber,' they always said here, 'The Emperor is in the\nwardrobe.'\n\nIn the great city in which he lived there was always something going on;\nevery day many strangers came there.  One day two impostors arrived who\ngave themselves out as weavers, and said that they knew how to\nmanufacture the most beautiful cloth imaginable.  Not only were the\ntexture and pattern uncommonly beautiful, but clothes which were made of\nthe stuff possessed this wonderful property that they were invisible to\nanyone who was not fit for his office, or who was unpardonably stupid.\n\n'Those must indeed be splendid clothes,' thought the Emperor.  'If I had\nthem on I could find out which men in my kingdom are unfit for the\noffices they hold; I could distinguish the wise from the stupid!  Yes,\nthis cloth must be woven for me at once.'  And he gave both the\nimpostors much money, so that they might begin their work.\n\nThey placed two weaving-looms, and began to do as if they were working,\nbut they had not the least thing on the looms.  They also demanded the\nfinest silk and the best gold, which they put in their pockets, and\nworked at the empty looms till late into the night.\n\n'I should like very much to know how far they have got on with the\ncloth,' thought the Emperor.  But he remembered when he thought about it\nthat whoever was stupid or not fit for his office would not be able to\nsee it.  Now he certainly believed that he had nothing to fear for\nhimself, but he wanted first to send somebody else in order to see how\nhe stood with regard to his office.  Everybody in the whole town knew\nwhat a wonderful power the cloth had, and they were all curious to see\nhow bad or how stupid their neighbour was.\n\n'I will send my old and honoured minister to the weavers,' thought the\nEmperor.  'He can judge best what the cloth is like, for he has\nintellect, and no one understands his office better than he.'\n\nNow the good old minister went into the hall where the two impostors sat\nworking at the empty weaving-looms.  'Dear me!' thought the old\nminister, opening his eyes wide, 'I can see nothing!'  But he did not\nsay so.\n\nBoth the impostors begged him to be so kind as to step closer, and asked\nhim if it were not a beautiful texture and lovely colours.  They pointed\nto the empty loom, and the poor old minister went forward rubbing his\neyes; but he could see nothing, for there was nothing there.\n\n'Dear, dear!' thought he, 'can I be stupid? I have never thought that,\nand nobody must know it!  Can I be not fit for my office?  No, I must\ncertainly not say that I cannot see the cloth!'\n\n'Have you nothing to say about it?' asked one of the men who was\nweaving.\n\n'Oh, it is lovely, most lovely!' answered the old minister, looking\nthrough his spectacles. 'What a texture!  What colours!  Yes, I will\ntell the Emperor that it pleases me very much.'\n\n'Now we are delighted at that,' said both the weavers, and thereupon\nthey named the colours and explained the make of the texture.\n\nThe old minister paid great attention, so that he could tell the same to\nthe Emperor when he came back to him, which he did.\n\nThe impostors now wanted more money, more silk, and more gold to use in\ntheir weaving. They put it all in their own pockets, and there came no\nthreads on the loom, but they went on as they had done before, working\nat the empty loom.  The Emperor soon sent another worthy statesman to\nsee how the weaving was getting on, and whether the cloth would soon be\nfinished.  It was the same with him as the first one; he looked and\nlooked, but because there was nothing on the empty loom he could see\nnothing.\n\n'Is it not a beautiful piece of cloth?' asked the two impostors, and\nthey pointed to and described the splendid material which was not there.\n\n'Stupid I am not!' thought the man, 'so it must be my good office for\nwhich I am not fitted. It is strange, certainly, but no one must be\nallowed to notice it.'  And so he praised the cloth which he did not\nsee, and expressed to them his delight at the beautiful colours and the\nsplendid texture.  'Yes, it is quite beautiful,' he said to the Emperor.\n\nEverybody in the town was talking of the magnificent cloth.\n\nNow the Emperor wanted to see it himself while it was still on the loom.\nWith a great crowd of select followers, amongst whom were both the\nworthy statesmen who had already been there before, he went to the\ncunning impostors, who were now weaving with all their might, but\nwithout fibre or thread.\n\n'Is it not splendid!' said both the old statesmen who had already been\nthere.  'See, your Majesty, what a texture!  What colours!'  And then\nthey pointed to the empty loom, for they believed that the others could\nsee the cloth quite well.\n\n'What!' thought the Emperor.  'I can see nothing!  This is indeed\nhorrible!  Am I stupid? Am I not fit to be Emperor?  That were the most\ndreadful thing that could happen to me. Oh, it is very beautiful,' he\nsaid.  'It has my gracious approval.'  And then he nodded pleasantly,\nand examined the empty loom, for he would not say that he could see\nnothing.\n\nHis whole Court round him looked and looked, and saw no more than the\nothers; but they said like the Emperor, 'Oh! it is beautiful!'  And they\nadvised him to wear these new and magnificent clothes for the first time\nat the great procession which was soon to take place.  'Splendid!\nLovely!  Most beautiful!' went from mouth to mouth; everyone seemed\ndelighted over them, and the Emperor gave to the impostors the title of\nCourt weavers to the Emperor.\n\nThroughout the whole of the night before the morning on which the\nprocession was to take place, the impostors were up and were working by\nthe light of over sixteen candles.  The people could see that they were\nvery busy making the Emperor's new clothes ready.  They pretended they\nwere taking the cloth from the loom, cut with huge scissors in the air,\nsewed with needles without thread, and then said at last, 'Now the\nclothes are finished!'\n\nThe Emperor came himself with his most distinguished knights, and each\nimpostor held up his arm just as if he were holding something, and said,\n'See! here are the breeches!  Here is the coat!  Here the cloak!' and so\non.\n\n'Spun clothes are so comfortable that one would imagine one had nothing\non at all; but that is the beauty of it!'\n\n'Yes,' said all the knights, but they could see nothing, for there was\nnothing there.\n\n'Will it please your Majesty graciously to take off your clothes,' said\nthe impostors, 'then we will put on the new clothes, here before the\nmirror.'\n\nThe Emperor took off all his clothes, and the impostors placed\nthemselves before him as if they were putting on each part of his new\nclothes which was ready, and the Emperor turned and bent himself in\nfront of the mirror.\n\n'How beautifully they fit!  How well they sit!' said everybody.  'What\nmaterial!  What colours!  It is a gorgeous suit!'\n\n[Illustration: The Emperor comes to see his new clothes.]\n\n'They are waiting outside with the canopy which your Majesty is wont to\nhave borne over you in the procession,' announced the Master of the\nCeremonies.\n\n'Look, I am ready,' said the Emperor. 'Doesn't it sit well!'  And he\nturned himself again to the mirror to see if his finery was on all\nright.\n\nThe chamberlains who were used to carry the train put their hands near\nthe floor as if they were lifting up the train; then they did as if they\nwere holding something in the air.  They would not have it noticed that\nthey could see nothing.\n\nSo the Emperor went along in the procession under the splendid canopy,\nand all the people in the streets and at the windows said, 'How\nmatchless are the Emperor's new clothes!  That train fastened to his\ndress, how beautifully it hangs!'\n\nNo one wished it to be noticed that he could see nothing, for then he\nwould have been unfit for his office, or else very stupid.  None of the\nEmperor's clothes had met with such approval as these had.\n\n'But he has nothing on!' said a little child at last.\n\n'Just listen to the innocent child!' said the father, and each one\nwhispered to his neighbour what the child had said.\n\n'But he has nothing on!' the whole of the people called out at last.\n\nThis struck the Emperor, for it seemed to him as if they were right; but\nhe thought to himself, 'I must go on with the procession now.'  And the\nchamberlains walked along still more uprightly, holding up the train\nwhich was not there at all.\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\na golden 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 round in surprise, and then she saw the little creature, the\nGolden Crab.\n\n[Illustration: \"Let down thy petticoat that lets thy feet be seen\"]\n\n'What! You can speak, can you, you ridiculous crab?' she said, for she\nwas not quite pleased at the Crab's remarks.  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, 'Now take this rod; go and\nknock with it on a certain mountain; then a black man will come out and\nask you what you wish for.  Answer him thus: \"Your master, the King, has\nsent me to tell you that you must send him his golden garment that is\nlike the sun.\"  Make him give you, besides, the queenly robes of gold\nand precious stones which are like the flowery meadows and bring them\nboth to me.  And bring me also the golden cushion.'\n\n[Illustration: The fisherman brings the crab on the golden cushion.]\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\ntook place, 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 crab-shell. 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,\nand the Princess had a son, whom she called Benjamin.  But her mother\nstill thought the whole matter very strange. At last she said to the\nKing that he ought to ask his daughter whether she would not like to\nhave another husband instead of the Crab. But when the daughter was\nquestioned she only answered:\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 honour,\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 armour 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 you who I\nam, say 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\nshe did not seem to care about any of the princes; he therefore\nappointed a second 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\n[Illustration: The Prince throws the apple to the Princess]\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\nbitterly, but 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\nup a goblet filled with wine, and said, 'A health to my father!'  And\nanother said, 'A health to my mother!' and so the healths went round.\nThen one of 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      That burnt 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,' he answered, 'certainly.'\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\nthemselves into young men, and in a moment the Princess recognised her\nhusband amongst them all, and tried to come out of her hiding-place; but\nthe old man held her back.  The youths seated themselves at the table;\nand now the 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      That burnt my golden shell!'\n\nThen the Princess could restrain herself no longer, but ran forward and\nthrew her arms round her husband.  And immediately he knew her again,\nand said:\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 bad 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\nthe castle 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\nthe story are happier still.\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 came at last to the iron\ncase.  A voice came from within and asked her, 'Where do you come from,\nand where do you want to go?'  She answered, 'I have lost my way to my\nfather'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.'\nThen she grew frightened, and thought, 'What can a young lassie do with\nan iron stove?'  But as she wanted very much to go home to her father,\nshe promised to do what he wished.  He said, 'You must come again, and\nbring a knife with you to scrape a hole in the iron.'\n\nThen he gave her someone 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,\n'Dear father, listen to what has befallen me!  I should never have come\nhome again out of the great wild wood if I had not come to an iron\nstove, to whom I have had to promise that I will go back to free him and\nmarry him!'  The old King was so frightened that he nearly fainted, for\nshe was his only daughter.  So they consulted together, and determined\nthat the miller's daughter, who was very beautiful, should take her\nplace.  They took her there, gave her a knife, and said she must scrape\nat the iron stove.  She scraped for twenty-four hours, but did not make\nthe least impression.  When the day broke, a voice called from the iron\nstove, 'It seems to me that it is day outside.'  Then she answered, 'It\nseems so to me; 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\n[Illustration: The iron stove]\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 out, and had to scrape for four-and-twenty 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\nthe King's daughter come.  And say to her that what I foretell shall\ncome to pass, and if she does not come everything in the kingdom shall\nfall into ruin, and not one stone shall be left upon another.'  When the\nPrincess heard this she began to cry, but it was no good; she had to\nkeep her word.  She took leave of her father, put a knife in her belt,\nand went to the iron stove in the wood.  As soon as she reached it she\nbegan to scrape, and the iron gave way and before two hours had passed\nshe had made a little hole.  Then she peeped in and saw such a beautiful\nyouth all shining with gold and precious stones that she fell in love\nwith him on the spot. So she scraped away harder than ever, and made the\nhole so large that he could get out.  Then he said, 'You are mine, and I\nam thine; you are my bride and have set me free!'  He wanted to take her\nwith him to his kingdom, but she begged him just to let her go once more\nto her father; and the Prince let her go, but told her not to say more\nthan three words to her father, then to come back again.  So she went\nhome, but alas! she said _more than three words_; and immediately the\niron stove vanished and went away over a mountain of glass and sharp\nswords.  But the Prince was free, and was no longer shut up in it. Then\nshe said good-bye to her father, and took a little money with her, and\nwent again into the great wood to look for the iron stove; but she could\nnot find it.  She sought it for nine days, and then her hunger became so\ngreat that she did not know how she could live any longer. And when it\nwas evening she climbed a little tree and wished that the night would\nnot come, because she was afraid of the wild beasts.  When midnight came\nshe saw afar off a little light, and thought, 'Ah! if only I could reach\nthat!'  Then she got down from the tree and went towards the light.  She\ncame to a little old house with a great deal of grass growing round, and\nstood in front of a little heap of wood.  She thought, 'Alas! what am I\ncoming 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.\nThen she 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\nbid 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\nto her, 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 plough-wheel, and three nuts, which she was to take\ngreat care of.  She set out with these things, and when she came to the\nglass mountain which was so slippery she stuck the three needles behind\nher feet 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 plough-wheel\nand rolled over them.  At last she came to a great lake, and, when she\nhad crossed that, arrived at a beautiful castle.  She went in and gave\nherself out as a servant, a poor maid who would gladly be engaged.  But\nshe knew that the Prince whom she had freed from the iron stove in the\ngreat wood was in the castle.  So she was taken on as kitchen-maid for\nvery small wages.  Now the Prince was about to marry another princess,\nfor he thought 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 it was not a\ndress for a serving-maid. Then she said she would not sell it unless she\nwas granted one favour--namely, to sleep by the Prince's door.  The\nbride granted her this, because the dress was so beautiful and she had\nso few like it.  When it was evening she said to her bridegroom, 'That\nstupid maid wants to sleep by your door.'\n\n[Illustration: 'Then she reached the three cutting swords, and got on\nher plough-wheel and rolled over them.']\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 into\nhis room, but he slept so soundly that she could not wake him.  The maid\nwept all night long, and said, 'I freed you in the wild wood out of the\niron stove; I have sought you, and have crossed a glassy mountain, three\nsharp swords, and a great lake before I found you, and will you not hear\nme now?'  The servants outside heard how she cried the whole night, and\nthey told 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\nshe wanted to buy it also.  But the maid did not want money, and asked\nthat she should sleep again by the Prince's door.  The bride, however,\ngave him a sleeping-draught, and he slept so soundly that he heard\nnothing.  But the kitchen-maid wept the whole night long, and said, 'I\nhave freed you in a wood and from an iron stove; I sought you and have\ncrossed a glassy mountain, three sharp swords, and a great lake to find\nyou, and now you will not hear me!'  The servants outside heard how she\ncried the whole night, and in the morning they told their master.  And\nwhen she had washed up on the third night she bit the third nut, and\nthere was a still more beautiful dress inside that was made of pure\ngold.  When the bride saw it she wanted to have it, but the maid would\nonly give it her on condition that she should sleep for the third time\nby the Prince's door.  But the Prince took care not to drink the\nsleeping-draught.  When she began to weep and to say, 'Dearest\nsweetheart, I freed you in the horrible wild wood, and from an iron\nstove,' he jumped up and said, 'You are right.  You are mine, and I am\nthine.'  Though it was still night, he got into a carriage with her and\nthey took the false bride's clothes away, so that she could not follow\nthem.  When they came to the great lake they rowed across, and when they\nreached the three sharp swords they sat on the plough-wheel, and on the\nglassy mountain they stuck the three needles in.  So they arrived at\nlast at the little old house, but when they stepped inside it turned\ninto a large castle.  The toads were all freed, and were beautiful\nKing's children, running about for joy.  There they were married, and\nthey remained in the castle, which was much larger than that of the\nPrincess's father.  But because the old man did not like being left\nalone, they went and fetched him.  So they had two kingdoms and lived in\ngreat wealth.\n\n    A mouse has run,\n    My story's done.\n\n\n\n\n                    *THE DRAGON AND HIS GRANDMOTHER*\n\n\nThere was once a great war, and the King had a great many soldiers, but\nhe gave them so little pay that they could not live upon it.  Then three\nof them took counsel together and determined to desert.\n\nOne of them said to the others, 'If we are caught, we shall be hanged on\nthe gallows; how shall we set about it?'  The other said, 'Do you see\nthat large cornfield there?  If we were to hide ourselves in that, no\none could find us.  The army cannot come into it, and to-morrow it is to\nmarch on.'\n\nThey crept into the corn, but the army did not march on, but remained\nencamped close around them.  They sat for two days and two nights in the\ncorn, and grew so hungry that they nearly died; but if they were to\nventure out, it was certain death.\n\nThey said at last, 'What use was it our deserting?  We must perish here\nmiserably.'\n\nWhilst they were speaking a fiery dragon came flying through the air.\nIt hovered near them, and asked why they were hidden there.  They\nanswered, 'We are three soldiers, and have deserted because our pay was\nso small.  Now if we remain here we shall die of hunger, and if we move\nout we shall be strung up on the gallows.'  'If you will serve me for\nseven years,' said the Dragon, 'I will lead you through the midst of the\narmy so that no one shall catch you.'  'We have no choice, and must take\nyour offer,' said they.  Then the dragon seized them in his claws, took\nthem through the air over the army, and set them down on the earth a\nlong way from it.\n\nHe gave them a little whip, saying, 'Whip and slash with this, and as\nmuch money as you want will jump up before you.  You can then live as\ngreat lords, keep horses, and drive about in carriages.  But after seven\nyears you are mine.'  Then he put a book before them, which he made all\nthree of them sign.  'I will then give you a riddle,' he said; 'if you\nguess it, you shall be free and out of my power.'  The Dragon then flew\naway, and they journeyed on with their little whip.  They had as much\nmoney as they wanted, wore grand clothes, and made their way into the\nworld.  Wherever they went they lived in merrymaking and splendour,\ndrove about with horses and carriages, ate and drank, but did nothing\nwrong.\n\n[Illustration: The Dragon carries off the three soldiers.]\n\nThe time passed quickly away, and when the seven years were nearly ended\ntwo of them grew terribly anxious and frightened, but the third made\nlight of it, saying, 'Don't be afraid, brothers, I wasn't born\nyesterday; I will guess the riddle.'\n\nThey went into a field, sat down, and the two pulled long faces.  An old\nwoman passed by, and asked them why they were so sad.  'Alas! what have\nyou to do with it?  You cannot help us.'  'Who knows?' she answered.\n'Only confide your trouble in me.'\n\nThen they told her that they had become the servants of the Dragon for\nseven long years, and how he had given them money as plentifully as\nblackberries; but as they had signed their names they were his, unless\nwhen the seven years had passed they could guess a riddle.  The old\nwoman said, 'If you would help yourselves, one of you must go into the\nwood, and there he will come upon a tumble-down building of rocks which\nlooks like a little house.  He must go in, and there he will find help.'\n\nThe two melancholy ones thought, 'That won't save us!' and they remained\nwhere they were.  But the third and merry one jumped up and went into\nthe wood till he found the rock hut.  In the hut sat a very old woman,\nwho was the Dragon's grandmother.  She asked him how he came, and what\nwas his business there.  He told her all that had happened, and because\nshe was pleased with him she took compassion on him, and said she would\nhelp him.\n\nShe lifted up a large stone which lay over the cellar, saying, 'Hide\nyourself there; you can hear all that is spoken in this room.  Only sit\nstill and don't stir.  When the dragon comes, I will ask him what the\nriddle is, for he tells me everything; then listen carefully what he\nanswers.'\n\nAt midnight the Dragon flew in, and asked for his supper.  His\ngrandmother laid the table, and brought out food and drink till he was\nsatisfied, and they ate and drank together.  Then in the course of the\nconversation she asked him what he had done in the day, and how many\nsouls he had conquered.\n\n'I haven't had much luck to-day,' he said, 'but I have a tight hold on\nthree soldiers.'\n\n'Indeed! three soldiers!' said she.  'Who cannot escape you?'\n\n'They are mine,' answered the Dragon scornfully, 'for I shall only give\nthem one riddle which they will never be able to guess.'\n\n'What sort of a riddle is it?' she asked.\n\n'I will tell you this.  In the North Sea lies a dead sea-cat--that shall\nbe their roast meat; and the rib of a whale--that shall be their silver\nspoon; and the hollow foot of a dead horse--that shall be their\nwineglass.'\n\nWhen the Dragon had gone to bed, his old grandmother pulled up the stone\nand let out the soldier.\n\n'Did you pay attention to everything?'\n\n'Yes,' he replied, 'I know enough, and can help myself splendidly.'\n\nThen he went by another way through the window secretly, and in all\nhaste back to his comrades.  He told them how the Dragon had been\noutwitted by his grandmother, and how he had heard from his own lips the\nanswer to the riddle.\n\nThen they were all delighted and in high spirits, took out their whip,\nand cracked so much money that it came jumping up from the ground. When\nthe seven years had quite gone, the Fiend came with his book, and,\npointing at the signatures, said, 'I will take you underground with me;\nyou shall have a meal there.  If you can tell me what you will get for\nyour roast meat, you shall be free, and shall also keep the whip.'\n\nThen said the first soldier, 'In the North Sea lies a dead sea-cat; that\nshall be the roast meat.'\n\n[Illustration: The Fiend defeated.]\n\nThe Dragon was much annoyed, and hummed and hawed a good deal, and asked\nthe second, 'But what shall be your spoon?'\n\n'The rib of a whale shall be our silver spoon.'\n\nThe Dragon made a face, and growled again three times, 'Hum, hum, hum,'\nand said to the third, 'Do you know what your wineglass shall be?'\n\n'An old horse's hoof shall be our wineglass.'\n\nThen the Dragon flew away with a loud shriek, and had no more power over\nthem.  But the three soldiers took the little whip, whipped as much\nmoney as they wanted, and lived happily to their lives' end.\n\n\n\n\n                          *THE DONKEY CABBAGE*\n\n\nThere was once a young Hunter who went boldly into the forest.  He had a\nmerry and light heart, and as he went whistling along there came an ugly\nold woman, who said to him, 'Good-day, dear hunter!  You are very merry\nand contented, but I suffer hunger and thirst, so give me a trifle.'\nThe Hunter was sorry for the poor old woman, and he felt in his pocket\nand gave her all he could spare.  He was going on then, but the old\nwoman stopped him and said, 'Listen, dear hunter, to what I say.\nBecause of your kind heart I will make you a present.  Go on your way,\nand in a short time you will come to a tree on which sit nine birds who\nhave a cloak in their claws and are quarrelling over it.  Then take aim\nwith your gun and shoot in the middle of them; they will let the cloak\nfall, but one of the birds will be hit and will drop down dead. Take the\ncloak with you; it is a wishing-cloak, and when you throw it on your\nshoulders you have only to wish yourself at a certain place, and in the\ntwinkling of an eye you are there.  Take the heart out of the dead bird\nand swallow it whole, and early every morning when you get up you will\nfind a gold piece under your pillow.'\n\nThe Hunter thanked the wise woman, and thought to himself, 'These are\nsplendid things she has promised me, if only they come to pass!'  So he\nwalked on about a hundred yards, and then he heard above him in the\nbranches such a screaming and chirping that he looked up, and there he\nsaw a heap of birds tearing a cloth with their beaks and feet,\nshrieking, tugging, and fighting, as if each wanted it for himself.\n'Well,' said the Hunter, 'this is wonderful!  It is just as the old\nwoman said'; and he took his gun on his shoulder, pulled the trigger,\nand shot into the midst of them, so that their feathers flew about. Then\nthe flock took flight with much screaming, but one fell dead, and the\ncloak fluttered down. Then the Hunter did as the old woman had told him:\nhe cut open the bird, found its heart, swallowed it, and took the cloak\nhome with him. The next morning when he awoke he remembered the promise,\nand wanted to see if it had come true.  But when he lifted up his\npillow, there sparkled the gold piece, and the next morning he found\nanother, and so on every time he got up. He collected a heap of gold,\nbut at last he thought to himself, 'What good is all my gold to me if I\nstay at home?  I will travel and look a bit about me in the world.'  So\nhe took leave of his parents, slung his hunting knapsack and his gun\nround him, and journeyed into the world.\n\nIt happened that one day he went through a thick wood, and when he came\nto the end of it there lay in the plain before him a large castle. At\none of the windows in it stood an old woman with a most beautiful maiden\nby her side, looking out.  But the old woman was a witch, and she said\nto the girl, 'There comes one out of the wood who has a wonderful\ntreasure in his body which we must manage to possess ourselves of,\ndarling daughter; we have more right to it than he.  He has a bird's\nheart in him, and so every morning there lies a gold piece under his\npillow.'\n\nShe told her how they could get hold of it, and how she was to coax it\nfrom him, and at last threatened her angrily, saying, 'And if you do not\nobey me, you shall repent it!'\n\nWhen the Hunter came nearer he saw the maiden, and said to himself, 'I\nhave travelled so far now that I will rest, and turn into this beautiful\ncastle; money I have in plenty.'  But the real reason was that he had\ncaught sight of the lovely face.\n\nHe went into the house, and was kindly received and hospitably\nentertained.  It was not long before he was so much in love with the\nwitch-maiden that he thought of nothing else, and only looked in her\neyes, and whatever she wanted, that he gladly did.  Then the old witch\nsaid, 'Now we must have the bird-heart; he will not feel when it is\ngone.'  She prepared a drink, and when it was ready she poured it in a\ngoblet and gave it to the maiden, who had to hand it to the Hunter.\n\n'Drink to me now, my dearest,' she said. Then he took the goblet, and\nwhen he had swallowed the drink the bird-heart came out of his mouth.\nThe maiden had to get hold of it secretly and then swallow it herself,\nfor the old witch wanted to have it.  Thenceforward he found no more\ngold under his pillow, and it lay under the maiden's; but he was so much\nin love and so much bewitched that he thought of nothing except spending\nall his time with the maiden.\n\n[Illustration: THE MAIDEN OBTAINS THE BIRD-HEART]\n\nThen the old witch said, 'We have the bird-heart, but we must also get\nthe wishing-cloak from him.'\n\nThe maiden answered, 'We will leave him that; he has already lost his\nwealth!'\n\nThe old witch grew angry, and said, 'Such a cloak is a wonderful thing,\nit is seldom to be had in the world, and have it I must and will.'  She\nbeat the maiden, and said that if she did not obey it would go ill with\nher.\n\nSo she did her mother's bidding, and, standing one day by the window,\nshe looked away into the far distance as if she were very sad.\n\n'Why are you standing there looking so sad?' asked the Hunter.\n\n'Alas, my love,' she replied, 'over there lies the granite mountain\nwhere the costly precious stones grow.  I have a great longing to go\nthere, so that when I think of it I am very sad.  For who can fetch\nthem?  Only the birds who fly; a man, never.'\n\n'If you have no other trouble,' said the Hunter, 'that one I can easily\nremove from your heart.'\n\nSo he wrapped her round in his cloak and wished themselves to the\ngranite mountain, and in an instant there they were, sitting on it! The\nprecious stones sparkled so brightly on all sides that it was a pleasure\nto see them, and they collected the most beautiful and costly together.\nBut now the old witch had through her witchcraft caused the Hunter's\neyes to become heavy.\n\nHe said to the maiden, 'We will sit down for a little while and rest; I\nam so tired that I can hardly stand on my feet.'\n\nSo they sat down, and he laid his head on her lap and fell asleep.  As\nsoon as he was sound asleep she unfastened the cloak from his shoulders,\nthrew it on her own, left the granite and stones, and wished herself\nhome again.\n\nBut when the Hunter had finished his sleep and awoke, he found that his\nlove had betrayed him and left him alone on the wild mountain. 'Oh,'\nsaid he, 'why is faithlessness so great in the world?' and he sat down\nin sorrow and trouble, not knowing what to do.\n\nBut the mountain belonged to fierce and huge giants, who lived on it and\ntraded there, and he had not sat long before he saw three of them\nstriding towards him.  So he lay down as if he had fallen into a deep\nsleep.\n\nThe giants came up, and the first pushed him with his foot, and said,\n'What sort of an earthworm is that?'\n\nThe second said, 'Crush him dead.'\n\nBut the third said contemptuously, 'It is not worth the trouble!  Let\nhim live; he cannot remain here, and if he goes higher up the mountain\nthe clouds will take him and carry him off.'\n\nTalking thus they went away.  But the Hunter had listened to their talk,\nand as soon as they had gone he rose and climbed to the summit.  When he\nhad sat there a little while a cloud swept by, and, seizing him, carried\nhim away.  It travelled for a time in the sky.  and then it sank down\nand hovered over a large vegetable garden surrounded by walls, so that\nhe came safely to the ground amidst cabbage and vegetables.  The Hunter\nthen looked about him, saying, 'If only I had something to eat! I am so\nhungry, and it will go badly with me in the future, for I see here not\nan apple or pear or fruit of any kind--nothing but vegetables\neverywhere.'  At last he thought, 'At a pinch I can eat a salad; it does\nnot taste particularly nice, but it will refresh me.'  So he looked\nabout for a good head and ate it, but no sooner had he swallowed a\ncouple of mouthfuls than he felt very strange, and found himself\nwonderfully changed.  Four legs began to grow on him, a thick head, and\ntwo long ears, and he saw with horror that he had changed into a donkey.\nBut as he was still very hungry and this juicy salad tasted very good to\nhis present nature, he went on eating with a still greater appetite.  At\nlast he got hold of another kind of cabbage, but scarcely had swallowed\nit when he felt another change, and he once more regained his human\nform.\n\n[Illustration: The hunter is transformed into a donkey.]\n\nThe Hunter now lay down and slept off his weariness.  When he awoke the\nnext morning he broke off a head of the bad and a head of the good\ncabbage, thinking, 'This will help me to regain my own, and to punish\nfaithlessness.'  Then he put the heads in his pockets, climbed the wall,\nand started off to seek the castle of his love.  When he had wandered\nabout for a couple of days he found it quite easily.  He then browned\nhis face quickly, so that his own mother would not have known him, and\nwent into the castle, where he begged for a lodging.\n\n'I am so tired,' he said, 'I can go no farther.'\n\nThe witch asked, 'Countryman, who are you, and what is your business?'\n\nHe answered, 'I am a messenger of the King, and have been sent to seek\nthe finest salad that grows under the sun.  I have been so lucky as to\nfind it, and am bringing it with me; but the heat of the sun is so great\nthat the tender cabbage threatens to grow soft, and I do not know if I\nshall be able to bring it any farther.'\n\nWhen the old witch heard of the fine salad she wanted to eat it, and\nsaid, 'Dear countryman, just let me taste the wonderful salad.'\n\n'Why not?' he answered; 'I have brought two heads with me, and will give\nyou one.'\n\nSo saying, he opened his sack and gave her the bad one.  The witch\nsuspected no evil, and her mouth watered to taste the new dish, so that\nshe went into the kitchen to prepare it herself. When it was ready she\ncould not wait till it was served at the table, but she immediately took\na couple of leaves and put them in her mouth. No sooner, however, had\nshe swallowed them than she lost human form, and ran into the courtyard\nin the shape of a donkey.\n\nNow the servant came into the kitchen, and when she saw the salad\nstanding there ready cooked she was about to carry it up, but on the\nway, according to her old habit, she tasted it and ate a couple of\nleaves.  Immediately the charm worked, and she became a donkey, and ran\nout to join the old witch, and the dish with the salad in it fell to the\nground.  In the meantime, the messenger was sitting with the lovely\nmaiden, and as no one came with the salad, and she wanted very much to\ntaste it, she said, 'I don't know where the salad is.'\n\nThen thought the Hunter, 'The cabbage must have already begun to work.'\nAnd he said, 'I will go to the kitchen and fetch it myself.'\n\nWhen he came there he saw the two donkeys running about in the\ncourtyard, but the salad was lying on the ground.\n\n'That's all right,' said he; 'two have had their share!'  And lifting\nthe remaining leaves up, he laid them on the dish and brought them to\nthe maiden.\n\n'I am bringing you the delicious food my own self,' he said, 'so that\nyou need not wait any longer.'\n\nThen she ate, and as the others had done, she at once lost her human\nform, and ran as a donkey into the yard.\n\nWhen the Hunter had washed his face, so that the changed ones might know\nhim, he went into the yard saying, 'Now you shall receive a reward for\nyour faithlessness.'\n\nHe tied them all three with a rope, and drove them away till he came to\na mill.  He knocked at the window, and the miller put his head out and\nasked what he wanted.\n\n'I have three tiresome animals,' he answered, 'which I don't want to\nkeep any longer.  If you will take them, give them food and stabling,\nand do as I tell you with them, I will pay you as much as you want.'\n\nThe miller replied, 'Why not?  What shall I do with them?'\n\n[Illustration: THE YOUNG MAN GIVES THE DONKEYS TO THE MILLER]\n\nThen the Hunter said that to the old donkey which was the witch, three\nbeatings and one meal; to the younger one, which was the servant, one\nbeating and three meals; and to the youngest one, which was the maiden,\nno beating and three meals; for he could not find it in his heart to let\nthe maiden be beaten.\n\nThen he went back into the castle, and he found there all that he\nwanted.  After a couple of days the miller came and said that he must\ntell him that the old donkey which was to have three beatings and only\none meal had died. 'The two others,' he added, 'are certainly not dead,\nand get their three meals every day, but they are so sad that they\ncannot last much longer.'\n\nThen the Hunter took pity on them, laid aside his anger, and told the\nmiller to drive them back again.  And when they came he gave them some\nof the good cabbage to eat, so that they became human again.  Then the\nbeautiful maiden fell on her knees before him saying, 'Oh, my dearest,\nforgive me the ill I have done you! My mother compelled me to do it; it\nwas against my will, for I love you dearly.  Your wishing-cloak is\nhanging in a cupboard, and as for the bird-heart I will make a drink and\ngive it back to you.'\n\nBut he changed his mind, and said, 'Keep it; it makes no difference, for\nI will take you to be my own dear true wife.'\n\nAnd the wedding was celebrated, and they lived happy together till\ndeath.\n\n\n\n\n                              *LUCKY LUCK*\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a King who had an only son.  When the lad was\nabout eighteen years old his father had to go to fight in a war against\na neighbouring country, and the king led his troops in person.  He bade\nhis son act as Regent in his absence, but ordered him on no account to\nmarry till his return.\n\nTime went by.  The Prince ruled the country and never even thought of\nmarrying.  But when he reached his twenty-fifth birthday he began to\nthink that it might be rather nice to have a wife, and he thought so\nmuch that at last he got quite eager about it.  He remembered, however,\nwhat his father had said, and waited some time longer, till at last it\nwas ten years since the King went out to war.  Then the Prince called\nhis courtiers about him and set off with a great retinue to seek a\nbride.  He hardly knew which way to go, so he wandered about for twenty\ndays, when, suddenly, he found himself in his father's camp.\n\nThe King was delighted to see his son, and had a great many questions to\nask and answer; but when he heard that instead of quietly waiting for\nhim at home the Prince was starting off to seek a wife he was very\nangry, and said: 'You may go where you please, but I will not leave any\nof my people with you.'\n\nOnly one faithful servant stayed with the Prince and refused to part\nfrom him.  They journeyed over hill and dale till they came to a place\ncalled Goldtown.  The King of Goldtown had a lovely daughter, and the\nPrince, who soon heard about her beauty, could not rest till he saw her.\n\n[Illustration: THE FAITHFUL SERVANT & THE THREE EAGLES]\n\nHe was very kindly received, for he was extremely good-looking and had\ncharming manners, so he lost no time in asking for her hand and her\nparents gave her to him with joy.  The wedding took place at once, and\nthe feasting and rejoicings went on for a whole month.  At the end of\nthe month they set off for home, but as the journey was a long one they\nspent the first evening at an inn.  Everyone in the house slept, and\nonly the faithful servant kept watch.  About midnight he heard three\ncrows, who had flown to the roof, talking together.\n\n'That's a handsome couple which arrived here to-night.  It seems quite a\npity they should lose their lives so soon.'\n\n'Truly,' said the second crow; 'for to-morrow, when midday strikes, the\nbridge over the Gold Stream will break just as they are driving over it.\nBut, listen! whoever overhears and tells what we have said will be\nturned to stone up to his knees.'\n\nThe crows had hardly done speaking when away they flew.  And close upon\nthem followed three pigeons.\n\n'Even if the Prince and Princess get safe over the bridge they will\nperish,' said they; 'for the King is going to send a carriage to meet\nthem which looks as new as paint.  But when they are seated in it a\nraging wind will rise and whirl the carriage away into the clouds.  Then\nit will fall suddenly to earth, and they will be killed. But anyone who\nhears and betrays what we have said will be turned to stone up to his\nwaist.'\n\nWith that the pigeons flew off and three eagles took their places, and\nthis is what they said:\n\n'If the young couple does manage to escape the dangers of the bridge and\nthe carriage, the King means to send them each a splendid\ngold-embroidered robe.  When they put these on they will be burnt up at\nonce.  But whoever hears and repeats this will turn to stone from head\nto foot.'\n\nEarly next morning the travellers got up and breakfasted.  They began to\ntell each other their dreams.  At last the servant said:\n\n'Gracious Prince, I dreamt that if your Royal Highness would grant all I\nasked we should get home safe and sound; but if you did not we should\ncertainly be lost.  My dreams never deceive me, so I entreat you to\nfollow my advice during the rest of the journey.'\n\n'Don't make such a fuss about a dream,' said the Prince; 'dreams are but\nclouds.  Still, to prevent your being anxious I will promise to do as\nyou wish.'\n\nWith that they set out on their journey.\n\nAt midday they reached the Gold Stream. When they got to the bridge the\nservant said: 'Let us leave the carriage here, my Prince, and walk a\nlittle way.  The town is not far off and we can easily get another\ncarriage there, for the wheels of this one are bad and will not hold out\nmuch longer.'\n\nThe Prince looked well at the carriage.  He did not think it looked so\nunsafe as his servant said; but he had given his word and he held to it.\n\nThey got down and loaded the horses with the luggage.  The Prince and\nhis bride walked over the bridge, but the servant said he would ride the\nhorses through the stream so as to water and bathe them.\n\nThey reached the other side without harm, and bought a new carriage in\nthe town, which was quite near, and set off once more on their travels;\nbut they had not gone far when they met a messenger from the King, who\nsaid to the Prince: 'His Majesty has sent your Royal Highness this\nbeautiful carriage, so that you may make a fitting entry into your own\ncountry and amongst your own people.'\n\nThe Prince was so delighted that he could not speak.  But the servant\nsaid: 'My lord, let me examine this carriage first and then you can get\nin if I find it is all right; otherwise we had better stay in our own.'\n\nThe Prince made no objections, and after looking the carriage well over\nthe servant said: 'It is as bad as it is smart'; and with that he\nknocked it all to pieces, and they went on in the one that they had\nbought.\n\nAt last they reached the frontier; there another messenger was waiting\nfor them, who said that the King had sent two splendid robes for the\nPrince and his bride, and begged that they would wear them for their\nstate entry.  But the servant implored the Prince to have nothing to do\nwith them, and never gave him any peace till he had obtained leave to\ndestroy the robes.\n\n[Illustration: THE FAITHFUL SERVANT TURNS INTO STONE]\n\nThe old King was furious when he found that all his arts had failed;\nthat his son still lived and that he would have to give up the crown to\nhim now he was married, for that was the law of the land.  He longed to\nknow how the Prince had escaped, and said: 'My dear son, I do indeed\nrejoice to have you safely back, but I cannot imagine why the beautiful\ncarriage and the splendid robes I sent did not please you; why you had\nthem destroyed.'\n\n'Indeed, sire,' said the Prince, 'I was myself much annoyed at their\ndestruction; but my servant had begged to direct everything on the\njourney and I had promised him that he should do so.  He declared that\nwe could not possibly get home safely unless I did as he told me.'\n\nThe old King fell into a tremendous rage.  He called his Council\ntogether and condemned the servant to death.\n\nThe gallows was put up in the square in front of the palace.  The\nservant was led out and his sentence read to him.\n\nThe rope was being placed round his neck, when he begged to be allowed a\nfew last words. 'On our journey home,' he said, 'we spent the first\nnight at an inn.  I did not sleep, but kept watch all night.'  And then\nhe went on to tell what the crows had said, and as he spoke he turned to\nstone up to his knees.  The Prince called to him to say no more as he\nhad proved his innocence.  But the servant paid no heed to him, and by\nthe time his story was done he had turned to stone from head to foot.\n\nOh! how grieved the Prince was to lose his faithful servant!  And what\npained him most was the thought that he was lost through his very\nfaithfulness, and he determined to travel all over the world and never\nrest till he found some means of restoring him to life.\n\nNow there lived at Court an old woman who had been the Prince's nurse.\nTo her he confided all his plans, and left his wife, the Princess, in\nher care.  'You have a long way before you, my son,' said the old woman;\n'you must never return till you have met with Lucky Luck.  If he cannot\nhelp you no one on earth can.'\n\nSo the Prince set off to try to find Lucky Luck.  He walked and walked\ntill he got beyond his own country, and he wandered through a wood for\nthree days, but did not meet a living being in it.  At the end of the\nthird day he came to a river near which stood a large mill. Here he\nspent the night.  When he was leaving next morning the miller asked him:\n'My gracious lord, where are you going all alone?'\n\nAnd the Prince told him.\n\n'Then I beg your Highness to ask Lucky Luck this question: Why is it\nthat though I have an excellent mill, with all its machinery complete,\nand get plenty of grain to grind, I am so poor that I hardly know how to\nlive from one day to another?'\n\nThe Prince promised to inquire, and went on his way.  He wandered about\nfor three days more, and at the end of the third day saw a little town.\nIt was quite late when he reached it, but he could discover no light\nanywhere, and walked almost right through it without finding a house\nwhere he could turn in.  But far away at the end of the town he saw a\nlight in a window.  He went straight to it and in the house were three\ngirls playing a game together. The Prince asked for a night's lodging\nand they took him in, gave him some supper and got a room ready for him,\nwhere he slept.\n\nNext morning when he was leaving they asked where he was going and he\ntold them his story. 'Gracious Prince,' said the maidens, 'do ask Lucky\nLuck how it happens that here we are over thirty years old and no lover\nhas come to woo us, though we are good, pretty, and very industrious.'\n\nThe Prince promised to inquire, and went on his way.\n\nThen he came to a great forest and wandered about in it from morning to\nnight and from night to morning before he got near the other end.  Here\nhe found a pretty stream which was different from other streams as,\ninstead of flowing, it stood still and began to talk: 'Sir Prince, tell\nme what brings you into these wilds.  I must have been flowing here a\nhundred years and more and no one has ever yet come by.'\n\n'I will tell you,' answered the Prince, 'if you will divide yourself so\nthat I may walk through.'\n\nThe stream parted at once, and the Prince walked through without wetting\nhis feet; and directly he got to the other side he told his story as he\nhad promised.\n\n'Oh, do ask Lucky Luck,' cried the brook, 'why, though I am such a\nclear, bright, rapid stream, I never have a fish or any other living\ncreature in my waters.'\n\nThe Prince said he would do so, and continued his journey.\n\nWhen he got quite clear of the forest he walked on through a lovely\nvalley till he reached a little house thatched with rushes, and he went\nin to rest, for he was very tired.\n\n[Illustration: THE COMPLAINT OF THE THREE MAIDENS]\n\nEverything in the house was beautifully clean and tidy, and a cheerful\nhonest-looking old woman was sitting by the fire.\n\n'Good morning, mother,' said the Prince.\n\n'May Luck be with you, my son.  What brings you into these parts?'\n\n'I am looking for Lucky Luck,' replied the Prince.\n\n'Then you have come to the right place, my son, for I am his mother.  He\nis not at home just now, he is out digging in the vineyard.  Do you go\ntoo.  Here are two spades.  When you find him begin to dig, but don't\nspeak a word to him.  It is now eleven o'clock.  When he sits down to\neat his dinner sit beside him and eat with him.  After dinner he will\nquestion you, and then tell him all your troubles freely.  He will\nanswer whatever you may ask.'\n\nWith that she showed him the way, and the Prince went and did just as\nshe had told him. After dinner they lay down to rest.\n\nAll of a sudden Lucky Luck began to speak and said: 'Tell me, what sort\nof a man are you? for since you came here you have not spoken a word.'\n\n'I am not dumb,' replied the young man, 'but I am that unhappy prince\nwhose faithful servant has been turned to stone, and I want to know how\nto help him.'\n\n'And you do well, for he deserves everything. Go back, and when you get\nhome your wife will just have had a little boy.  Take three drops of\nblood from the child's little finger, rub them on your servant's wrists\nwith a blade of grass and he will return to life.'\n\n'I have another thing to ask,' said the Prince, when he had thanked him.\n'In the forest near here is a fine stream, but not a fish or other\nliving creature in it.  Why is this?'\n\n'Because no one has ever been drowned in the stream.  But take care, in\ncrossing, to get as near the other side as you can before you say so, or\nyou may be the first victim yourself.'\n\n'Another question, please, before I go.  On my way here I lodged one\nnight in the house of three maidens.  All were well-mannered,\nhard-working, and pretty, and yet none has had a wooer.  Why was this?'\n\n'Because they always throw out their sweepings in the face of the sun.'\n\n'And why is it that a miller, who has a large mill with all the best\nmachinery and gets plenty of corn to grind is so poor that he can hardly\nlive from day to day?'\n\n'Because the miller keeps everything for himself, and does not give to\nthose who need it.'\n\nThe Prince wrote down the answers to his questions, took a friendly\nleave of Lucky Luck, and set off for home.\n\nWhen he reached the stream it asked if he brought it any good news.\n'When I get across I will tell you,' said he.  So the stream parted; he\nwalked through and on to the highest part of the bank.  He stopped and\nshouted out:\n\n'Listen, oh stream!  Lucky Luck says you will never have any living\ncreature in your waters until someone is drowned in you.'\n\nThe words were hardly out of his mouth when the stream swelled and\noverflowed till it reached the rock up which he had climbed, and dashed\nso far up it that the spray flew over him.  But he clung on tight, and\nafter failing to reach him three times the stream returned to its proper\ncourse.  Then the Prince climbed down, dried himself in the sun, and set\nout on his march home.\n\nHe spent the night once more at the mill and gave the miller his answer,\nand by-and-by he told the three sisters not to throw out all their\nsweepings in the face of the sun.\n\nThe Prince had hardly arrived at home when some thieves tried to ford\nthe stream with a fine horse they had stolen.  When they were half-way\nacross, the stream rose so suddenly that it swept them all away.  From\nthat time it became the best fishing stream in the countryside.\n\nThe miller, too, began to give alms and became a very good man, and in\ntime grew so rich that he hardly knew how much he had.\n\nAnd the three sisters, now that they no longer insulted the sun, had\neach a wooer within a week.\n\nWhen the Prince got home he found that his wife had just got a fine\nlittle boy.  He did not lose a moment in pricking the baby's finger till\nthe blood ran, and he brushed it on the wrists of the stone figure,\nwhich shuddered all over and split with a loud noise in seven parts and\nthere was the faithful servant alive and well.\n\nWhen the old King saw this he foamed with rage, stared wildly about,\nflung himself on the ground and died.\n\nThe servant stayed on with his royal master and served him faithfully\nall the rest of his life; and, if neither of them is dead, he is serving\nhim still.\n\n\n\n\n                         *TO YOUR GOOD HEALTH!*\n\n\nLong, long ago there lived a King who was such a mighty monarch that\nwhenever he sneezed everyone in the whole country had to say 'To your\ngood health!'  Everyone said it except the shepherd with the staring\neyes, and he would not say it.\n\nThe King heard of this and was very angry, and sent for the shepherd to\nappear before him.\n\nThe shepherd came and stood before the throne, where the King sat\nlooking very grand and powerful.  But however grand or powerful he might\nbe the shepherd did not feel a bit afraid of him.\n\n'Say at once: \"To my good health!\"' cried the King.\n\n'To my good health!' replied the shepherd.\n\n'To mine--to _mine_, you rascal, you vagabond!' stormed the King.\n\n'To mine, to _mine_, your Majesty,' was the answer.\n\n'But to mine--to my own,' roared the King, and beat on his breast in a\nrage.\n\n'Well, yes; to mine, of course, to my own,' cried the shepherd, and\ngently tapped his breast.\n\nThe King was beside himself with fury and did not know what to do, when\nthe Lord Chamberlain interfered:\n\n'Say at once--say this very moment: \"To your health, your Majesty\"; for\nif you don't say it you'll lose your life,' whispered he.\n\n'No, I won't say it till I get the Princess for my wife,' was the\nshepherd's answer.  Now the Princess was sitting on a little throne\nbeside the King, her father, and she looked as sweet and lovely as a\nlittle golden dove.  When she heard what the shepherd said she could not\nhelp laughing, for there is no denying the fact that this young shepherd\nwith the staring eyes pleased her very much; indeed he pleased her\nbetter than any king's son she had yet seen.\n\nBut the King was not as pleasant as his daughter, and he gave orders to\nthrow the shepherd into the white bear's pit.\n\nThe guards led him away and thrust him into the pit with the white bear,\nwho had had nothing to eat for two days and was very hungry.  The door\nof the pit was hardly closed when the bear rushed at the shepherd; but\nwhen it saw his eyes it was so frightened that it was ready to eat\nitself.  It shrank away into a corner and gazed at him from there, and,\nin spite of being so famished, did not dare to touch him, but sucked its\nown paws from sheer hunger.  The shepherd felt that if he once removed\nhis eyes off the beast he was a dead man, and in order to keep himself\nawake he made songs and sang them, and so the night went by.\n\nNext morning the Lord Chamberlain came to see the shepherd's bones, and\nwas amazed to find him alive and well.  He led him to the King, who fell\ninto a furious passion, and said: 'Well, you have learned what it is to\nbe very near death, and _now_ will you say: \"To my good health\"?'\n\nBut the shepherd answered: 'I am not afraid of ten deaths!  I will only\nsay it if I may have the Princess for my wife.'\n\n[Illustration: STARING-EYES IN THE WHITE BEAR'S PIT]\n\n'Then go to your death,' cried the King; and ordered him to be thrown\ninto the den with the wild boars.  The wild boars had not been fed for a\nweek, and when the shepherd was thrust into their den they rushed at him\nto tear him to pieces.  But the shepherd took a little flute out of the\nsleeve of his jacket and began to play a merry tune, on which the wild\nboars first of all shrank shyly away, and then got up on their hind legs\nand danced gaily.  The shepherd would have given anything to be able to\nlaugh, they looked so funny; but he dared not stop playing, for he knew\nwell enough that the moment he stopped they would fall upon him and tear\nhim to pieces.  His eyes were of no use to him here, for he could not\nhave stared ten wild boars in the face at once; so he kept on playing\nand the wild boars danced very slowly, as if in a minuet, then by\ndegrees he played faster and faster till they could hardly twist and\nturn quickly enough and ended by all falling over each other in a heap,\nquite exhausted and out of breath.\n\nThen the shepherd ventured to laugh at last; and he laughed so long and\nso loud that when the Lord Chamberlain came early in the morning,\nexpecting to find only his bones, the tears were still running down his\ncheeks from laughter.\n\nAs soon as the King was dressed the shepherd was again brought before\nhim; but he was more angry than ever to think the wild boars had not\ntorn the man to bits, and he said: 'Well, you have learned what it feels\nto be near ten deaths, now say: \"To my good health!\"\n\nBut the shepherd broke in with, 'I do not fear a hundred deaths, and I\nwill only say it if I may have the Princess for my wife.'\n\n'Then go to a hundred deaths!' roared the King, and ordered the shepherd\nto be thrown down the deep vault of scythes.\n\nThe guards dragged him away to a dark dungeon, in the middle of which\nwas a deep well with sharp scythes all round it.  At the bottom of the\nwell was a little light by which one could see if anyone was thrown in\nwhether he had fallen to the bottom.\n\nWhen the shepherd was dragged to the dungeon he begged the guards to\nleave him alone a little while that he might look down in the pit of\nscythes; perhaps he might after all make up his mind to say 'To your\ngood health' to the King.  So the guards left him alone and he stuck up\nhis long stick near the well, hung his cloak round the stick and put his\nhat on the top.  He also hung his knapsack up inside the cloak so that\nit might seem to have somebody within it. When this was done he called\nout to the guards and said that he had considered the matter, but after\nall he could not make up his mind to say what the King wished.  The\nguards came in, threw the hat and cloak, knapsack and stick all down the\nwell together, watched to see how they put out the light at the bottom\nand came away, thinking that now there really was an end of the\nshepherd.  But he had hidden in a dark corner and was laughing to\nhimself all the time.\n\nQuite early next morning came the Lord Chamberlain, carrying a lamp, and\nhe nearly fell backwards with surprise when he saw the shepherd alive\nand well.  He brought him to the King, whose fury was greater than ever,\nbut who cried:\n\n'Well, now you have been near a hundred deaths; will you say: \"To your\ngood health\"?'\n\nBut the shepherd only gave the same answer:\n\n'I won't say it till the Princess is my wife.'\n\n'Perhaps after all you may do it for less,' said the King, who saw that\nthere was no chance of making away with the shepherd; and he ordered the\nstate coach to be got ready, then he made the shepherd get in with him\nand sit beside him, and ordered the coachman to drive to the silver\nwood.  When they reached it he said: 'Do you see this silver wood?\nWell, if you will say, \"To your good health,\" I will give it to you.'\n\nThe shepherd turned hot and cold by turns, but he still persisted:\n\n'I will not say it till the Princess is my wife.'\n\nThe King was much vexed; he drove further on till they came to a\nsplendid castle, all of gold, and then he said:\n\n'Do you see this golden castle?  Well, I will give you that too, the\nsilver wood and the golden castle, if only you will say that one thing\nto me: \"To your good health.\"'\n\nThe shepherd gaped and wondered and was quite dazzled, but he still\nsaid:\n\n'No; I will _not_ say it till I have the Princess for my wife.'\n\nThis time the King was overwhelmed with grief, and gave orders to drive\non to the diamond pond, and there he tried once more.\n\n'Do you see this diamond pond?  I will give you that too, the silver\nwood and the golden castle and the diamond pond.  You shall have them\nall--all--if you will but say: \"To your good health!\"'\n\nThe shepherd had to shut his staring eyes tight not to be dazzled with\nthe brilliant pond, but still he said:\n\n'No, no; I will not say it till I have the Princess for my wife.'\n\nThen the King saw that all his efforts were useless, and that he might\nas well give in, so he said:\n\n'Well, well, it's all the same to me--I will give you my daughter to\nwife; but, then, you really and truly must say to me: \"To your good\nhealth.\"'\n\n'Of course I'll say it; why should I not say it?  It stands to reason\nthat I shall say it then.'\n\nAt this the King was more delighted than anyone could have believed.  He\nmade it known all through the country that there were to be great\nrejoicings, as the Princess was going to be married. And everyone\nrejoiced to think that the Princess, who had refused so many royal\nsuitors, should have ended by falling in love with the staring-eyed\nshepherd.\n\nThere was such a wedding as had never been seen.  Everyone ate and drank\nand danced. Even the sick were feasted, and quite tiny new-born children\nhad presents given them.\n\nBut the greatest merry-making was in the King's palace; there the best\nbands played and the best food was cooked; a crowd of people sat down to\ntable, and all was fun and merrymaking.\n\nAnd when the groomsman, according to custom, brought in the great boar's\nhead on a big dish and placed it before the King so that he might carve\nit and give everyone a share, the savoury smell was so strong that the\nKing began to sneeze with all his might.\n\n'To your very good health!' cried the shepherd before anyone else, and\nthe King was so delighted that he did not regret having given him his\ndaughter.\n\nIn time, when the old King died, the shepherd succeeded him.  He made a\nvery good king and never expected his people to wish him well against\ntheir wills; but, all the same, everyone did wish him well, for they all\nloved him.\n\n\n\n\n                 W. BRENDON AND SON, LIMITED, PLYMOUTH\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: End paper]","title":"The Magic Ring and Other Stories: From the Yellow and Crimson Fairy Books","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":28659}