{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_57521/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_57521","id":"gutenberg_57521","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/57521","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Children's literature","Mythology -- Juvenile literature","Tales -- Juvenile literature"],"text":"Produced by MFR, For Emmy and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was\nproduced from images made available by the HathiTrust\nDigital Library.)\n\n\n\n\n\nThe Junior Classics, Volume 2: Folk Tales and Myths\n\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration:\n\n _Junior\n Classics_\n\n THE\u00b7YOUNG\u00b7FOLKS\u2019\n SHELF\u00b7OF\u00b7BOOKS\n\n _P\u00b7F\u00b7Collier\u00b7&\u00b7Son Corporation_\n _New York_]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: AH, NAUGHTY PANDORA!\u2014page 351\n\n_From the painting by Maxfield Parrish_]\n\n\n\n\n THE\n JUNIOR CLASSICS\n\n SELECTED AND ARRANGED BY\n WILLIAM PATTEN\n MANAGING EDITOR OF THE HARVARD CLASSICS\n\n INTRODUCTION BY\n CHARLES W. ELIOT, LL.D.\n PRESIDENT EMERITUS OF HARVARD UNIVERSITY\n\n WITH A READING GUIDE BY\n WILLIAM ALLAN NEILSON, Ph.D.\n PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH, HARVARD UNIVERSITY\n PRESIDENT SMITH COLLEGE, NORTHAMPTON, MASS., SINCE 1917\n\n VOLUME TWO\n\n _Folk Tales and Myths_\n\n [Illustration]\n\n P. F. COLLIER & SON CORPORATION\n NEW YORK\n\n Copyright, 1912\n By P. F. COLLIER & SON\n\n Copyright, 1918\n By P. F. COLLIER & SON\n\n Acknowledgments of permission given by authors and\n publishers for the use of copyright material\n appear in Volume 10\n\n MANUFACTURED IN U. S. A.\n\n TC\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n PAGE\n\n NOTE 8\n\n STORIES FROM NORTHERN SAGAS\n\n The Northmen\u2019s Story of How All Things\n Began _E. M. Wilmot-Buxton_ 9\n How the Queen of the Sky Gave Gifts to Men _E. M. Wilmot-Buxton_ 17\n The Dwarfs and the Fairies _A. and E. Keary_ 21\n How Thor Went to J\u00f6tunheim _A. and E. Keary_ 26\n How Thor\u2019s Hammer Was Lost and Found _E. M. Wilmot-Buxton_ 40\n Iduna\u2019s Apples of Youth _A. and E. Keary_ 51\n How the Fenris Wolf Was Chained _E. M. Wilmot-Buxton_ 72\n The Story of Balder the Beautiful _E. M. Wilmot-Buxton_ 80\n The Wonderful Quern Stones _Julia Goddard_ 91\n\n THE STORY OF BRUNHILDA AND SIEGFRIED\n\n Brunhilda and the Magic Sword _Constance Maud_ 99\n Brunhilda\u2019s Sleep Guarded by Loki\u2019s Fiery\n Arm _Constance Maud_ 107\n How Siegfried Killed the Dragon _Constance Maud_ 115\n How Siegfried Finds Brunhilda _Constance Maud_ 133\n\n THE STORY OF LOHENGRIN\n\n The Plot Against the Beautiful Elsa of\n Brabant _Constance Maud_ 141\n The Knights of the Holy Grail _Constance Maud_ 148\n Lohengrin the Champion of Elsa of Brabant _Constance Maud_ 150\n Ortruda Plots for Revenge _Constance Maud_ 158\n The Departure of Lohengrin _Constance Maud_ 162\n The Wooing of the Daughter of the King of\n Ireland _From the Gudrun Lay_ 171\n\n THREE TALES OF THE RHINE\n\n The Lady of Kynast _Xavier B. Saintine_ 180\n The Guardian Angel _Xavier B. Saintine_ 183\n The Giant Who Laughed at a Dwarf _Xavier B. Saintine_ 185\n The Legend of Saint Christopher _Lillian M. Gask_ 187\n Prince Ivan and the Gray Wolf _Lillian M. Gask_ 195\n King Robert of Sicily _Henry W. Longfellow_ 213\n\n MYTHS OF GREECE AND ROME\n\n The Riddle of the Sphinx _Elsie F. Buckley_ 222\n The Gift of Athene _Sir George W. Cox_ 250\n Daphne, Child of the Morning _Sir George W. Cox_ 253\n The Vengeance of Apollo _Sir George W. Cox_ 255\n The Story of Arion _Sir George W. Cox_ 261\n The Battle of the Frogs and the Mice _Sir George W. Cox_ 267\n Orpheus the Sweet Singer _Sir George W. Cox_ 273\n Niobe, a Victim of Latona\u2019s Jealousy _Thomas Bulfinch_ 278\n The Sad Story of Pyramus and Thisbe _Thomas Bulfinch_ 282\n The Twelve Labors of Hercules _Thomas Bulfinch_ 286\n Hercules\u2019s Search for the Apples of\n Hesperides _Nathaniel Hawthorne_ 292\n The Story of Cupid and Psyche _Thomas Bulfinch_ 318\n How Pha\u00ebton Drove the Sun _Thomas Bulfinch_ 330\n Baucis and Philemon Changed into Two Trees _Thomas Bulfinch_ 339\n The Paradise of Children _Nathaniel Hawthorne_ 342\n\n TWO TALES OF THE HUDSON\n\n Rip Van Winkle _Washington Irving_ 364\n The Legend of Sleepy Hollow _Washington Irving_ 386\n\n SOME ANIMAL MYTHS OF VARIOUS LANDS\n\n The Hare Who Thought the World Had Come\n to an End _H. N. Francis_ 430\n A Hindoo Tale translated from the\n Jataka\n The Watering of the Saplings _Rev. W. H. D. Rouse_ 433\n A Hindoo Tale translated from the\n Jataka\n The Old Hare and the Elephants _Sir Edwin Arnold_ 434\n A Hindoo Tale translated from the\n Hitopadeca\n The Elephant Has a Bet With the Tiger _Walter Skeat_ 436\n A Tale from the Malay Peninsula\n How the Tortoise Out-Ran the Deer _C. F. Hartt_ 441\n A Tale from the Amazon River\n Which was the Stronger, the Tortoise, the\n Tapir, or the Whale? _C. F. Hartt_ 444\n A Tale from the Amazon River\n How the Turtle Got His Shell _Annie Ker_ 446\n A Tale from New Guinea\n The Legend of Rata _Sir George Grey_ 450\n A Maori Myth\n Why the Hippopotamus Lives in the Water _Elphinstone Dayrell_ 455\n A West African Myth\n Why the Elephant Has Small Eyes _Elphinstone Dayrell_ 457\n A West African Myth\n The Boy Who Set a Snare for the Sun _H. R. Schoolcraft_ 460\n An American Indian Myth\n The Bird Lover _Cornelius Mathews_ 465\n Wunzh, the Father of Indian Corn _Cornelius Mathews_ 479\n When Brer Wolf Have His Corn Shucking _Anonymous_ 487\n A Tale told by the Georgia Negroes\n Brer Rabbit\u2019s Cool Air Swing _Anonymous_ 490\n A Tale told by the Georgia Negroes\n\n THREE STORIES OF THE SEASONS\n\n The Four Seasons _Lillian M. Gask_ 493\n The Three Lemons _Lillian M. Gask_ 500\n The Winter-Spirit and His Visitor _Cornelius Mathews_ 512\n\n\n\n\nILLUSTRATIONS\n\n\n AH, NAUGHTY PANDORA!\n\n The Paradise of Children\n\n _Frontispiece illustration in color from the painting by\n Maxfield Parrish_\n\n\n THEY WOULD SWOOP DOWN AND BEAR HIS LIFELESS BODY TO VALHALLA\n\n Brunhilda and the Magic Sword\n\n _From the painting by K. Dielitz_\n\n\n TENDERLY HE LOOKED AT HER, AND SLOWLY KISSED HER ON BOTH EYES\n\n Brunhilda\u2019s Sleep Guarded by Loki\u2019s Fiery Arm\n\n _From the painting by K. Dielitz_\n\n\n SIEGFRIED SLAYS THE DRAGON\n\n How Siegfried Killed the Dragon\n\n _From the painting by K. Dielitz_\n\n\n \u201cTHROUGH HEAVEN\u2019S VICTORY, THY LIFE IS MINE!\u201d\n\n Lohengrin the Champion of Elsa of Brabant\n\n _From the painting by Ferdinand Leeke_\n\n\n AS HE ENTERED THE VILLAGE, HE MET A NUMBER OF PEOPLE NONE OF WHOM\n HE KNEW\n\n Rip Van Winkle\n\n _From the painting by Arthur Rackham_\n\n\n A TROOP OF STRANGE CHILDREN RAN AT HIS HEELS\n\n Rip Van Winkle\n\n _From the painting by Arthur Rackham_\n\n\n A PROVOKINGLY SHORT PETTICOAT TO DISPLAY THE PRETTIEST FOOT IN\n THE COUNTRY ROAD\n\n The Legend of Sleepy Hollow\n\n _From the painting by Arthur Rackham_\n\n\n\n\nNOTE\n\n\n_The character of the contents of volumes 1, 2 and 3 is so closely\nrelated that they may be said to constitute three volumes under one\ngeneral title. There are myths of Greece and Rome in this volume as well\nas in volume 3, and there are more animal myths in volume 1, particularly\nof the Hindoos and of the North American Indians._\n\n_What gives the volume a special character is the large group of stories\nfrom the Sagas or Epic Songs of the Northmen, including the story of\nBrunhilda and Siegfried, and a particularly attractive version of\nLohengrin, condensed, but not rewritten, from the story by Miss Maud._\n\n_These stories belong to us, in a very particular sense, since the blood\nthat flows in the veins of English and American boys is largely the blood\nof the fair-faced, fair-haired Northmen (or Scandinavians, or Danes,\nor whatever we call them) who invaded England in the ninth and tenth\ncenturies. Their strong bodies and strong wills have worked wonders in\nthe world and have made the world a pleasanter place to live in. It was\nthe Northman blood that sent Robinson Crusoe a-wandering, and helped\nChristian defeat the Giant in Doubting Castle._\n\n \u2014_W.P._\n\n\n\n\nTHE NORTHMEN\u2019S STORY OF HOW ALL THINGS BEGAN\n\nBy E. M. Wilmot-Buxton\n\n\nOnce upon a time, before ever this world was made, there was neither\nearth nor sea, nor air, nor light, but only a great yawning gulf, full of\ntwilight.\n\nTo the north of this gulf lay the Home of Mist, a dark and dreary land,\nout of which flowed a river of water from a spring that never ran dry.\nAs the water in its onward course met the bitter blasts of wind from the\nyawning gulf, it hardened into great blocks of ice, which rolled far down\ninto the abyss with a thunderous roar and piled themselves one on another\nuntil they formed mountains of glistening ice.\n\nSouth of this gulf lay the Home of Fire, a land of burning heat, guarded\nby a giant with a flaming sword, which, as he flashed it to and fro\nbefore the entrance, sent forth showers of sparks. And these sparks fell\nupon the ice-blocks and partly melted them, so that they sent up clouds\nof steam; and these again were frozen into hoar-frost, which filled all\nthe space that was left in the midst of the mountains of ice.\n\nThen one day, when the gulf was full to the very top, this great mass of\nfrosty rime, warmed by the flames from the Home of Fire, and frozen by\nthe cold airs from the Home of Mist, came to life and became the Giant\nYmir, with a living, moving body and cruel heart of ice.\n\nNow there was as yet no tree, nor grass, nor anything that would serve\nfor food, in this gloomy abyss. But when the Giant Ymir began to grope\naround for something to satisfy his hunger, he heard a sound as of some\nanimal chewing the cud; and there among the ice-hills he saw a gigantic\ncow, from whose udder flowed four great streams of milk, and with this\nhis craving was easily stilled.\n\nBut the cow was hungry also, and began to lick the salt off the blocks of\nice by which she was surrounded. And presently, as she went on licking\nwith her strong, rough tongue, a head of hair pushed itself through the\nmelting ice. Still the cow went on licking, until she had at last melted\nall the icy covering and there stood fully revealed the frame of a mighty\nman.\n\nYmir looked with eyes of hatred at this being, born of snow and ice, for\nsomehow he knew that his heart was warm and kind, and that he and his\nsons would always be the enemies of the evil race of the Frost Giants.\n\nSo, indeed, it came to pass. For from the sons of Ymir came a race of\ngiants whose pleasure was to work evil on the earth; and from the Sons of\nthe Iceman sprang the race of the gods, chief of whom was Odin, Father\nof All Things that ever were made; and Odin and his brothers began at\nonce to war against the wicked Frost Giants, and most of all against the\ncold-hearted Ymir.\n\nNow when, after a hard fight, the Giant Ymir was slain, such a river\nof blood flowed forth from his wounds that it drowned all the rest of\nthe Frost Giants save one, who escaped in a boat, with only his wife on\nboard, and sailed away to the edge of the world. And from him sprang all\nthe new race of Frost Giants, who at every opportunity issued from their\nland of twilight and desolation to harm the gods in their abode of bliss.\n\nWhen the giants had been thus driven out, All-Father Odin set to work\nwith his brothers to make the earth, the sea, and the sky; and these they\nfashioned out of the great body of the Giant Ymir.\n\nOut of his flesh they formed Midgard, the earth, which lay in the center\nof the gulf; and all round it they planted his eyebrows to make a high\nfence which should defend it from the race of giants.\n\nWith his bones they made the lofty hills, with his teeth the cliffs, and\nhis thick curly hair took root and became trees, bushes, and the green\ngrass.\n\nWith his blood they made the ocean, and his great skull, poised aloft,\nbecame the arching sky. Just below this they scattered his brains, and\nmade of them the heavy gray clouds that lie between earth and heaven.\n\nThe sky itself was held in place by four strong dwarfs, who support it on\ntheir broad shoulders as they stand east and west and south and north.\n\nThe next thing was to give light to the new-made world. So the gods\ncaught sparks from the Home of Fire and set them in the sky for stars;\nand they took the living flame and made of it the sun and moon, which\nthey placed in chariots of gold, and harnessed to them beautiful horses,\nwith flowing manes of gold and silver. Before the horses of the sun they\nplaced a mighty shield to protect them from its hot rays; but the swift\nmoon steeds needed no such protection from its gentle heat.\n\nAnd now all was ready save that there was no one to drive the horses of\nthe sun and moon. This task was given to Mani and Sol, the beautiful son\nand daughter of a giant; and these fair charioteers drive their fleet\nsteeds along the paths marked out by the gods, and not only give light to\nthe earth but mark out months and days for the sons of men.\n\nThen All-Father Odin called forth Night, the gloomy daughter of the\ncold-hearted giant folk, and set her to drive the dark chariot drawn by\nthe black horse, Frosty-Mane, from whose long wavy hair the drops of dew\nand hoar-frost fall upon the earth below. After her drove her radiant\nson, Day, with his white steed Shining-Mane, from whom the bright beams\nof daylight shine forth to gladden the hearts of men.\n\nBut the wicked giants were very angry when they saw all these good\nthings; and they set in the sky two hungry wolves, that the fierce, gray\ncreatures might forever pursue the sun and moon, and devour them, and so\nbring all things to an end. Sometimes, indeed, or so say the men of the\nNorth, the gray wolves almost succeed in swallowing sun or moon; and then\nthe earth children make such an uproar that the fierce beasts drop their\nprey in fear. And the sun and moon flee more rapidly than before, still\npursued by the hungry monsters.\n\nOne day, so runs the tale, as Mani, the Man in the Moon, was hastening\non his course, he gazed upon the earth and saw two beautiful little\nchildren, a boy and a girl, carrying between them a pail of water.\nThey looked very tired and sleepy, and indeed they were, for a cruel\ngiant made them fetch and carry water all night long, when they should\nhave been in bed. So Mani put out a long, long arm and snatched up the\nchildren and set them in the moon, pail and all; and there you can see\nthem on any moonlight night for yourself.\n\nBut that happened a long time after the beginning of things; for as yet\nthere was no man or woman or child upon the earth.\n\nAnd now that this pleasant Midgard was made, the gods determined\nto satisfy their desire for a home where they might rest and enjoy\nthemselves in their hours of ease.\n\nThey chose a suitable place far above the earth, on the other side of the\ngreat river which flowed from the Home of Mist where the giants dwelt,\nand here they made for their abode Asgard, wherein they dwelt in peace\nand happiness, and from whence they could look down upon the sons of men.\n\nFrom Asgard to Midgard they built a beautiful bridge of many colors, to\nwhich men gave the name of Rainbow Bridge, and up and down which the gods\ncould pass on their journeys to and from the earth.\n\nHere in Asgard stood the mighty forge where the gods fashioned their\nweapons wherewith they fought the giants, and the tools wherewith they\nbuilt their palaces of gold and silver.\n\nMeantime, no human creature lived upon the earth, and the giants dared\nnot cross its borders for fear of the gods. But one of them, clad in\neagle\u2019s plumes, always sat at the north side of Midgard, and, whenever he\nraised his arms and let them fall again, an icy blast rushed forth from\nthe Mist Home and nipped all the pleasant things of earth with its cruel\nbreath. In due time the earth brought forth thousands of tiny creatures,\nwhich crawled about and showed signs of great intelligence. And when the\ngods examined these little people closely, they found that they were of\ntwo kinds.\n\nSome were ugly, misshapen, and cunning-faced, with great heads, small\nbodies, long arms and feet. These they called Trolls or Dwarfs or Gnomes,\nand sent them to live underground, threatening to turn them into stone\nshould they appear in the daytime. And this is why the trolls spend all\ntheir time in the hidden parts of the earth, digging for gold and silver\nand precious stones, and hiding their spoil away in secret holes and\ncorners. Sometimes they blow their tiny fires and set to work to make all\nkinds of wonderful things from this buried treasure; and that is what\nthey are doing when, if one listens very hard on the mountains and hills\nof the Northland, a sound of tap-tap-tapping is heard far underneath the\nground.\n\nThe other small earth creatures were very fair and light and slender,\nkindly of heart and full of good will. These the gods called Fairies\nor Elves, and gave to them a charming place called Elfland in which to\ndwell. Elfland lies between Asgard and Midgard, and since all fairies\nhave wings they can easily flit down to the earth to play with the\nbutterflies, teach the young birds to sing, water the flowers, or dance\nin the moonlight round a fairy ring.\n\nLast of all, the gods made a man and woman to dwell in fair Midgard; and\nthis is the manner of their creation.\n\nAll-Father Odin was walking with his brothers in Midgard where, by the\nseashore, they found growing two trees, an ash and an elm. Odin took\nthese trees and breathed on them, whereupon a wonderful transformation\ntook place. Where the trees had stood, there were a living man and woman,\nbut they were stupid, pale, and speechless, until H\u0153nir, the god of\nLight, touched their foreheads and gave them sense and wisdom; and Loki,\nthe Fire-god, smoothed their faces, giving them bright color and warm\nblood, and the power to speak and see and hear.\n\nIt only remained that they should be named, and they were called Ask and\nEmbla, the names of the trees from which they had been formed. From these\ntwo people sprang all the race of men which lives upon this earth.\n\nAnd now All-Father Odin completed his work by planting the Tree of Life.\n\nThis immense tree had its roots in Asgard and Midgard and the Mist Land;\nand it grew to such a marvellous height that the highest bough, the Bough\nof Peace, hung over the Hall of Odin on the heights of Asgard; and the\nother branches overshadowed both Midgard and the Mist Land. On the top\nof the Peace Bough was perched a mighty eagle, and ever a falcon sat\nbetween his eyes, and kept watch on all that happened in the world below,\nthat he might tell to Odin what he saw.\n\nHeidrun, the goat of Odin, who supplied the heavenly mead, browsed on the\nleaves of this wonderful tree, and from them fed also the four mighty\nstags from whose horns honey-dew dropped on to the earth beneath and\nsupplied water for all the rivers of Midgard.\n\nThe leaves of the Tree of Life were ever green and fair, despite the\ndragon which, aided by countless serpents, gnawed perpetually at its\nroots, in order that they might kill the Tree of Life and thus bring\nabout the destruction of the gods.\n\nUp and down the branches of the tree scampered the squirrel, Ratatosk, a\nmalicious little creature, whose one amusement it was to make mischief by\nrepeating to the eagle the rude remarks of the dragon, and to the dragon\nthose of the eagle, in the hope that one day he might see them in actual\nconflict.\n\nNear the roots of the Tree of Life is a sacred well of sweet water from\nwhich the three Weird Sisters, who know all that shall come to pass,\nsprinkle the tree and keep it fresh and green. And the water, as it\ntrickles down from the leaves, falls as drops of honey on the earth, and\nthe bees take it for their food.\n\nClose to this sacred well is the Council Hall of the gods, to which every\nmorning they rode, over the Rainbow Bridge, to hold converse together.\n\nAnd this is the end of the tale of How All Things began.\n\n\n\n\nHOW THE QUEEN OF THE SKY GAVE GIFTS TO MEN\n\nBy E. M. Wilmot-Buxton\n\n\nBy the side of All-Father Odin, upon his high seat in Asgard, sat Frigga,\nhis wife, the Queen of the Asas. Sometimes she would be dressed in\nsnow-white garments, bound at the waist by a golden girdle, from which\nhung a great bunch of golden keys. And the earth-dwellers, gazing into\nthe sky, would admire the great white clouds as they floated across the\nblue, not perceiving that these clouds were really the folds of Frigga\u2019s\nflowing white robe, as it waved in the wind.\n\nAt other times she would wear dark gray or purple garments; and then the\nearth-dwellers made haste into their houses, for they said, \u201cthe sky is\nlowering to-day, and a storm is nigh at hand.\u201d\n\nFrigga had a palace of her own called Fensalir, or the Hall of Mists,\nwhere she spent much of her time at her wheel, spinning golden thread, or\nweaving web after web of many-colored clouds. All night long she sat at\nthis golden wheel, and if you look at the sky on a starry night you may\nchance to see it set up where the men of the South show a constellation\ncalled the Girdle of Orion.\n\nHusbands and wives who had dwelt lovingly together upon earth were\ninvited by Frigga to her hall when they died, so they might be forever\nunited within its hospitable walls.\n\nFrigga was especially interested in all good housewives, and she herself\nset them an excellent example in Fensalir. When the snowflakes fell, the\nearth-dwellers knew it was Frigga shaking her great feather bed, and when\nit rained they said it was her washing day. It was she who first gave to\nthem the gift of flax that the women upon earth might spin, and weave,\nand bleach their linen as white as the clouds of her own white robe.\n\nAnd this is how it came about.\n\nThere once was a shepherd who lived among the mountains with his wife and\nchildren; and so very poor was he that he often found it hard to give his\nfamily enough to satisfy their hunger. But he did not grumble; he only\nworked the harder; and his wife, though she had scarcely any furniture,\nand never a chance of a new dress, kept the house so clean, and the old\nclothes so well mended, that, all unknown to herself, she rose high in\nthe favor of the all-seeing Frigga.\n\nNow one day, when the shepherd had driven his few poor sheep up the\nmountain to pasture, a fine reindeer sprang from the rocks above him and\nbegan to leap upward along the steep slope. The shepherd snatched up his\ncrossbow and pursued the animal, thinking to himself: \u201cNow we shall have\na better meal than we have had for many a long day.\u201d\n\nUp and up leaped the reindeer, always just out of reach, and at length\ndisappeared behind a great boulder just as the shepherd, breathless and\nweary, reached the spot. No sign of the reindeer was to be seen, but, on\nlooking round, the shepherd saw that he was among the snowy heights of\nthe mountains, and almost at the top of a great glacier.\n\nPresently, as he pursued his vain search for the animal, he saw to his\namazement an open door, leading apparently into the heart of the glacier.\nHe was a fearless man, and so, without hesitation, he passed boldly\nthrough the doorway and found himself standing in a marvellous cavern,\nlit up by blazing torches which gleamed upon rich jewels hanging from the\nroof and walls. And in the midst stood a woman, most fair to behold, clad\nin snow-white robes and surrounded by a group of lovely maidens.\n\nThe shepherd\u2019s boldness gave way at this awesome sight, and he sank to\nhis knees before the Asa, Frigga, for she it was. But Frigga bade him be\nof good cheer, and said: \u201cChoose now whatsoever you will to carry away\nwith you as a remembrance of this place.\u201d\n\nThe shepherd\u2019s eyes wandered over the glittering jewels on the walls and\nroof, but they came back to a little bunch of blue flowers which Frigga\nheld in her hand. They alone looked homelike to him; the rest were hard\nand cold; so he asked timidly that he might be given the little nosegay.\n\nThen Frigga smiled kindly upon him.\n\n\u201cMost wise has been your choice,\u201d said she. \u201cTake with the flowers this\nmeasure of seed and sow it in your field, and you shall grow flowers of\nyour own. They shall bring prosperity to you and yours.\u201d\n\nSo the shepherd took the flowers and the seed, and scarcely had he done\nso when a mighty peal of thunder, followed by the shock of an earthquake,\nrent the cavern, and when he had collected his senses he found himself\nonce more upon the mountain side.\n\nWhen he reached home and had told his tale, his wife scolded him roundly\nfor not bringing home a jewel which would have made them rich forever.\nBut when she would have thrown the flowers away he prevented her. Next\nday he sowed the seed in his field, and was surprised to find how far it\nwent.\n\nVery soon after this the field was thick with tiny green shoots; and\nthough his wife reproached him for wasting good ground upon useless\nflowers, he watched and waited in hope until the field was blue with the\nstarry flax blooms.\n\nThen one night, when the flowers had withered and the seed was ripe,\nFrigga, in the disguise of an old woman, visited the lowly hut and showed\nthe shepherd and his astonished wife how to use the flax stalks; how to\nspin them into thread, and how to weave the thread into linen.\n\nIt was not long before all the dwellers in that part of the earth had\nheard of the wonderful material, and were hurrying to the shepherd\u2019s hut\nto buy bleached linen or the seed from which it was obtained. And so the\nshepherd and his family were soon among the richest people in the land;\nand the promise of Frigga was amply fulfilled.\n\n\n\n\nTHE DWARFS AND THE FAIRIES\n\nBy A. and E. Keary\n\n\n\u201cThe earth is very beautiful,\u201d said Odin, from the top of his throne,\n\u201cvery beautiful in every part, even to the shores of the dark North\nSea; but, alas! the men of the earth are puny and fearful. At this\nmoment I see a three-headed giant striding out of J\u00f6tunheim. He throws\na shepherd-boy into the sea, and puts the whole of the flock into his\npocket. Now he takes them out again one by one, and cracks their bones\nas if they were hazel-nuts, whilst, all the time, men look on, and do\nnothing.\u201d\n\n\u201cFather,\u201d cried Thor in a rage, \u201clast night I forged for myself a belt,\na glove, and a hammer, with which three things I will go forth alone to\nJ\u00f6tunheim.\u201d\n\nThor went, and Odin looked again.\n\n\u201cThe men of the earth are idle and stupid,\u201d said Odin. \u201cThere are dwarfs\nand elves, who live amongst them, and play tricks which they cannot\nunderstand, and do not know how to prevent. At this moment I see a\nhusbandman sowing grains of wheat in the furrows, while a dwarf runs\nafter him, and changes them into stones. Again, I see two hideous little\nbeings, who are holding under water the head of one, the wisest of men,\nuntil he dies; they mix his blood with honey; they have put it into three\nstone jars, and hidden it away.\u201d\n\nThen Odin was very angry with the dwarfs, for he saw that they were bent\non mischief; so he called to him Hermod, his Flying Word, and despatched\nhim with a message to the dwarfs and light elves, to say that Odin sent\nhis compliments, and would be glad to speak with them, in his palace of\nGladsheim, upon a matter of some importance.\n\nWhen they received Hermod\u2019s summons the dwarfs and light elves were very\nmuch surprised, not quite knowing whether to feel honored or afraid.\nHowever, they put on their pertest manners, and went clustering after\nHermod like a swarm of ladybirds.\n\nWhen they were arrived in the great city they found Odin descended\nfrom his throne, and sitting with the rest of the \u00c6sir in the Judgment\nHall of Gladsheim. Hermod flew in, saluted his master, and pointed to\nthe dwarfs and elves hanging like a cloud in the doorway to show that\nhe had fulfilled his mission. Then Odin beckoned the little people to\ncome forward. Cowering and whispering they peeped over one another\u2019s\nshoulders; now running on a little way into the hall, now back again,\nhalf curious, half afraid; and it was not until Odin had beckoned three\ntimes that they finally reached his footstool.\n\nThen Odin spoke to them in calm, low, serious tones about the wickedness\nof their mischievous propensities. Some, the very worst of them, only\nlaughed in a forward, hardened manner; but a great many looked up\nsurprised and a little pleased at the novelty of serious words; while\nthe light elves all wept, for they were tender-hearted little things. At\nlength Odin spoke to the two dwarfs by name whom he had seen drowning\nthe wise man. \u201cWhose blood was it,\u201d he asked, \u201cthat you mixed with honey\nand put into jars?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh,\u201d said the dwarfs, jumping up into the air, and clapping their hands,\n\u201cthat was Kvasir\u2019s blood. Don\u2019t you know who Kvasir was? He sprang up\nout of the peace made between the Vanir and yourselves, and has been\nwandering about these seven years or more; so wise he was that men\nthought he must be a god. Well, just now we found him lying in a meadow\ndrowned in his own wisdom; so we mixed his blood with honey, and put it\ninto three great jars to keep. Was not that well done, Odin?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell done!\u201d answered Odin. \u201cWell done! You cruel, cowardly, lying\ndwarfs! I myself saw you kill him. For shame! for shame!\u201d and then Odin\nproceeded to pass sentence upon them all. Those who had been the most\nwicked, he said, were to live, henceforth, a long way underground, and\nwere to spend their time in throwing fuel upon the great earth\u2019s central\nfire; while those who had only been mischievous were to work in the gold\nand diamond mines, fashioning precious stones and metals. They might all\ncome up at night, Odin said; but must vanish at the dawn. Then he waved\nhis hand, and the dwarfs turned round, shrilly chattering, scampered\ndown the palace-steps, out of the city, over the green fields, to their\nunknown, deep-buried earth-homes. But the light elves still lingered,\nwith upturned, tearful, smiling faces, like sunshiny morning dew.\n\n\u201cAnd you,\u201d said Odin, looking them through and through with his serious\neyes, \u201cand you\u2014\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! indeed, Odin,\u201d interrupted they, speaking all together in quick,\nuncertain tones; \u201cOh! indeed, Odin, we are not so very wicked. We have\nnever done anybody any harm.\u201d\n\n\u201cHave you ever done anybody any good?\u201d asked Odin.\n\n\u201cOh! no, indeed,\u201d answered the light elves, \u201cwe have never done anything\nat all.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou may go, then,\u201d said Odin, \u201cto live among the flowers, and play with\nthe wild bees and summer insects. You must, however, find something to\ndo, or you will get to be mischievous like the dwarfs.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf only we had any one to teach us,\u201d said the light elves, \u201cfor we are\nsuch foolish little people.\u201d\n\nOdin looked round inquiringly upon the \u00c6sir; but among them there was no\nteacher found for the silly little elves. Then he turned to Ni\u00f6rd, who\nnodded his head good-naturedly, and said, \u201cYes, yes, I will see about\nit;\u201d and then he strode out of the Judgment Hall, right away through the\ncity gates, and sat down upon the mountain\u2019s edge.\n\nAfter awhile he began to whistle in a most alarming manner, louder and\nlouder, in strong wild gusts, now advancing, now retreating; then he\ndropped his voice a little, lower and lower, until it became a bird-like\nwhistle\u2014low, soft, enticing music, like a spirit\u2019s call; and far away\nfrom the south a little fluttering answer came, sweet as the invitation\nitself, nearer and nearer until the two sounds dropped into one another.\nThen through the clear sky two forms came floating, wonderfully fair\u2014a\nbrother and sister\u2014their beautiful arms twined round one another, their\ngolden hair bathed in sunlight, and supported by the wind.\n\n\u201cMy son and daughter,\u201d said Ni\u00f6rd, proudly, to the surrounding \u00c6sir,\n\u201cFrey and Freya, Summer and Beauty, hand in hand.\u201d\n\nWhen Frey and Freya dropped upon the hill Ni\u00f6rd took his son by the hand,\nled him gracefully to the foot of the throne, and said, \u201cLook here, dear\nbrother Lord, what a fair young instructor I have brought for your pretty\nlittle elves.\u201d\n\nOdin was very much pleased with the appearance of Frey; but, before\nconstituting him king and schoolmaster of the light elves, he desired\nto know what his accomplishments were, and what he considered himself\ncompetent to teach.\n\n\u201cI am the genius of clouds and sunshine,\u201d answered Frey; and as he spoke,\nthe essences of a hundred perfumes were exhaled from his breath. \u201cI am\nthe genius of clouds and sunshine, and if the light elves will have me\nfor their king I can teach them how to burst the folded buds, to set the\nblossoms, to pour sweetness into the swelling fruit, to lead the bees\nthrough the honey-passages of the flowers, to make the single ear a stalk\nof wheat, to hatch birds\u2019 eggs, and teach the little ones to sing\u2014all\nthis, and much more,\u201d said Frey, \u201cI know, and will teach them.\u201d\n\nThen answered Odin, \u201cIt is well;\u201d and Frey took his scholars away with\nhim to Alfheim, which is in every beautiful place under the sun.\n\n\n\n\nHOW THOR WENT TO J\u00d6TUNHEIM\n\nBy A. and E. Keary\n\n\nOnce on a time, Asa Thor and Loki set out on a journey from Asgard to\nJ\u00f6tunheim. They travelled in Thor\u2019s chariot, drawn by two milk-white\ngoats. It was a somewhat cumbrous iron chariot, and the wheels made\na rumbling noise as it moved, which sometimes startled the ladies of\nAsgard, and made them tremble; but Thor liked it, thought the noise\nsweeter than any music, and was never so happy as when he was journeying\nin it from one place to another.\n\nThey travelled all day, and in the evening they came to a countryman\u2019s\nhouse. It was a poor, lonely place; but Thor descended from his chariot,\nand determined to pass the night there. The countryman, however, had no\nfood in his house to give these travellers; and Thor, who liked to feast\nhimself and make every one feast with him, was obliged to kill his own\ntwo goats and serve them up for supper. He invited the countryman and his\nwife and children to sup with him; but before they began to eat he made\none request of them.\n\n\u201cDo not, on any account,\u201d he said, \u201cbreak or throw away any of the bones\nof the goats you are going to eat for supper.\u201d\n\n\u201cI wonder why,\u201d said the peasant\u2019s son, Thialfi, to his sister Roska.\nRoska could not think of any reason, and by-and-bye Thialfi happened to\nhave a very nice little bone given him with some marrow in it. \u201cCertainly\nthere can be no harm in my breaking just this one,\u201d he said to himself;\n\u201cit would be such a pity to lose the marrow;\u201d and as Asa Thor\u2019s head was\nturned another way, he slyly broke the bone in two, sucked the marrow,\nand then threw the pieces into the goat\u2019s skins, where Thor had desired\nthat all the bones might be placed. I do not know whether Thialfi was\nuneasy during the night about what he had done; but in the morning he\nfound out the reason of Asa Thor\u2019s command, and received a lesson on\n\u201cwondering why,\u201d which he never forgot all his life after.\n\nAs soon as Asa Thor rose in the morning he took his hammer, Mi\u00f6lnir,\nin his hand, and held it over the goat-skins as they lay on the floor,\nwhispering runes the while. They were dead skins with dry bones on them\nwhen he began to speak; but as he said the last word, Thialfi, who was\nlooking curiously on, saw two live goats spring up and walk toward the\nchariot, as fresh and well as when they brought the chariot up to the\ndoor, Thialfi hoped. But no; one of the goats limped a little with his\nhind leg, and Asa Thor saw it. His brow grew dark as he looked, and for a\nminute Thialfi thought he would run far, far into the forest, and never\ncome back again; but one look more at Asa Thor\u2019s face, angry as it was,\nmade him change his mind. He thought of a better thing to do than running\naway. He came forward, threw himself at the Asa\u2019s feet, and, confessing\nwhat he had done, begged pardon for his disobedience. Thor listened, and\nthe displeased look passed away from his face.\n\n\u201cYou have done wrong, Thialfi,\u201d he said, raising him up; \u201cbut as you have\nconfessed your fault so bravely, instead of punishing you, I will take\nyou with me on my journey, and teach you myself the lesson of obedience\nto the \u00c6sir which is, I see, wanted.\u201d\n\nRoska chose to go with her brother, and from that day Thor had two\nfaithful servants, who followed him wherever he went.\n\nThe chariot and goats were now left behind; but, with Loki and his two\nnew followers, Thor journeyed on to the end of Manheim, over the sea,\nand then on, on, on in the strange, barren, misty land of J\u00f6tunheim.\nSometimes they crossed great mountains; sometimes they had to make their\nway among torn and rugged rocks, which often, through the mist, appeared\nto them to wear the forms of men, and once for a whole day they traversed\na thick and tangled forest.\n\nIn the evening of that day, being very much tired, they saw with pleasure\nthat they had come upon a spacious hall, of which the door, as broad as\nthe house itself, stood wide open.\n\n\u201cHere we may very comfortably lodge for the night,\u201d said Thor; and they\nwent in and looked about them.\n\nThe house appeared to be perfectly empty; there was a wide hall, and five\nsmaller rooms opening into it. They were, however, too tired to examine\nit carefully, and as no inhabitants made their appearance, they ate their\nsupper in the hall, and lay down to sleep. But they had not rested long\nbefore they were disturbed by strange noises, groanings, mutterings, and\nsnortings, louder than any animal that they had ever seen in their lives\ncould make. By-and-bye the house began to shake from side to side, and\nit seemed as if the very earth trembled. Thor sprang up in haste, and\nran to the open door; but, though he looked earnestly into the starlit\nforest, there was no enemy to be seen anywhere. Loki and Thialfi, after\ngroping about for a time, found a sheltered chamber to the right, where\nthey thought they could finish their night\u2019s rest in safety; but Thor,\nwith Mi\u00f6lnir in his hand, watched at the door of the house all night. As\nsoon as the day dawned he went out into the forest, and there, stretched\non the ground close by the house, he saw a strange, uncouth, gigantic\nshape of a man, out of whose nostrils came a breath which swayed the\ntrees to their very tops. There was no need to wonder any longer what the\ndisturbing noises had been.\n\nThor fearlessly walked up to this strange monster to have a better look\nat him; but at the sound of his footsteps the giant-shape rose slowly,\nstood up an immense height, and looked down upon Thor with two great\nmisty eyes, like blue mountain-lakes.\n\n\u201cWho are you?\u201d said Thor, standing on tiptoe, and stretching his neck to\nlook up; \u201cand why do you make such a noise as to prevent your neighbors\nfrom sleeping?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy name is Skrymir,\u201d said the giant sternly; \u201cI need not ask yours. You\nare the little Asa Thor of Asgard; but pray, now, what have you done with\nmy glove?\u201d\n\nAs he spoke he stooped down, and picked up the hall where Thor and his\ncompanions had passed the night, and which, in truth, was nothing more\nthan his glove, the room where Loki and Thialfi had slept being the thumb.\n\nThor rubbed his eyes, and felt as if he must be dreaming. Rousing\nhimself, however, he raised Mi\u00f6lnir in his hand, and, trying to keep\nhis eyes fixed on the giant\u2019s face, which seemed to be always changing,\nhe said: \u201cIt is time that you should know, Skrymir, that I am come to\nJ\u00f6tunheim to fight and conquer such evil giants as you are, and, little\nas you think me, I am ready to try my strength against yours.\u201d\n\n\u201cTry it, then,\u201d said the giant.\n\nAnd Thor, without another word, threw Mi\u00f6lnir at his head.\n\n\u201cAh! Ah!\u201d said the giant; \u201cdid a leaf touch me?\u201d\n\nAgain Thor seized Mi\u00f6lnir, which always returned to his hand, however far\nhe cast it from him, and threw it with all his force.\n\nThe giant put up his hand to his forehead. \u201cI think,\u201d he said, \u201cthat an\nacorn must have fallen on my head.\u201d\n\nA third time Thor struck a blow, the heaviest that ever fell from the\nhand of an Asa; but this time the giant laughed out loud.\n\n\u201cThere is surely a bird on that tree,\u201d he said, \u201cwho has let a feather\nfall on my face.\u201d\n\nThen, without taking any further notice of Thor, he swung an immense\nwallet over his shoulder, and, turning his back upon him, struck into a\npath that led from the forest. When he had gone a little way he looked\nround, his immense face appearing less like a human countenance than\nsome strange, uncouthly-shaped stone toppling on a mountain precipice.\n\n\u201cVing-Thor,\u201d[1] he said, \u201clet me give you a piece of good advice before\nI go. When you get to Utgard don\u2019t make much of yourself. You think me a\ntall man, but you have taller still to see; and you yourself are a very\nlittle mannikin. Turn back home whence you came, and be satisfied to have\nlearned something of yourself by your journey to J\u00f6tunheim.\u201d\n\n\u201cMannikin or not, _that_ will I never do,\u201d shouted Asa Thor after the\ngiant. \u201cWe will meet again, and something more will we learn, or teach\neach other.\u201d\n\nThe giant, however, did not turn back to answer, and Thor and his\ncompanions, after looking for some time after him, resumed their journey.\nBefore the sun was quite high in the heavens they came out of the forest,\nand at noon they found themselves on a vast barren plain, where stood\na great city, whose walls of dark, rough stone were so high, that Thor\nhad to bend his head quite far back to see the top of them. When they\napproached the entrance of this city they found that the gates were\nclosed and barred; but the space between the bars was so large that Thor\npassed through easily, and his companions followed him. The streets of\nthe city were gloomy and still. They walked on for some time without\nmeeting any one; but at length they came to a very high building, of\nwhich the gates stood open.\n\n\u201cLet us go in and see what is going on here,\u201d said Thor; and they went.\n\nAfter crossing the threshold they found themselves in an immense\nbanqueting hall. A table stretched from one end to the other of it; stone\nthrones stood round the table, and on every throne sat a giant, each one,\nas Thor glanced round, appearing more grim, and cold, and stony than the\nrest. One among them sat on a raised seat, and appeared to be the chief;\nso to him Thor approached and paid his greetings.\n\nThe giant chief just glanced at him, and, without rising, said, in a\nsomewhat careless manner: \u201cIt is, I think, a foolish custom to tease\ntired travellers with questions about their journey. I know without\nasking that you, little fellow, are Asa Thor. Perhaps, however, you may\nbe in reality taller than you appear; and as it is a rule here that no\none shall sit down to table till he has performed some wonderful feat,\nlet us hear what you and your followers are famed for, and in what way\nyou choose to prove yourselves worthy to sit down in the company of\ngiants.\u201d\n\nAt this speech, Loki, who had entered the hall cautiously behind Thor,\npushed himself forward.\n\n\u201cThe feat for which I am most famed,\u201d he said, \u201cis eating, and it is one\nwhich I am just now inclined to perform with right good will. Put food\nbefore me, and let me see if any of your followers can dispatch it as\nquickly as I can.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe feat you speak of is one by no means to be despised,\u201d said the\nUtgard king, \u201cand there is one here who would be glad to try his powers\nagainst yours. Let Logi,\u201d he said to one of his followers, \u201cbe summoned\nto the hall.\u201d\n\nAt this, a tall, thin, yellow-faced man approached, and a large trough\nof meat having been placed in the middle of the hall, Loki sat to work\nat one end, and Logi at the other, and they began to eat. I hope _I_\nshall never see any one eat as they ate; but the giants all turned their\nslow-moving eyes to watch them, and in a few minutes they met in the\nmiddle of the trough. It seemed, at first, as if they had both eaten\nexactly the same quantity; but, when the thing came to be examined into\nit was found that Loki had, indeed, eaten up all the meat, but that Logi\nhad also eaten the bones and the trough. Then the giants nodded their\nhuge heads, and determined that Loki was conquered. King Utgard now\nturned to Thialfi, and asked what he could do.\n\n\u201cI was thought swift of foot among the youth of my own country,\u201d answered\nThialfi; \u201cand I will, if you please, try to run a race with any one here.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have chosen a noble sport, indeed,\u201d said the king; \u201cbut you must be\na good runner if you could beat him with whom I shall match you.\u201d\n\nThen he called a slender lad, Hugi by name, and the whole company left\nthe hall, and, going out by an opposite gate to that by which Thor had\nentered, they came out to an open space, which made a noble race-ground.\nThere the goal was fixed, and Thialfi and Hugi started off together.\n\nThialfi ran fast\u2014fast as the reindeer which hears the wolves howling\nbehind; but Hugi ran so much faster that, passing the goal, he turned\nround, and met Thialfi half-way in the course.\n\n\u201cTry again, Thialfi,\u201d cried the king; and Thialfi, once more taking\nhis place, flew along the course, with feet scarcely touching the\nground\u2014swiftly as an eagle when, from his mountain-crag, he swoops on his\nprey in the valley; but with all his running he was still a good bow-shot\nfrom the goal when Hugi reached it.\n\n\u201cYou are certainly a good runner,\u201d said the king; \u201cbut if you mean to\nwin you must do a little better still than this; but perhaps you wish to\nsurprise us all the more this third time.\u201d\n\nThe third time, however, Thialfi was wearied, and though he did his\nbest, Hugi, having reached the goal, turned and met him not far from the\nstarting-point.\n\nThe giants again looked at each other, and declared that there was no\nneed of further trial, for that Thialfi was conquered.\n\nIt was now Asa Thor\u2019s turn, and all the company looked eagerly at\nhim, while the Utgard king asked by what wonderful feat he chose to\ndistinguish himself.\n\n\u201cI will try a drinking-match with any of you,\u201d Thor said, shortly; for,\nto tell the truth, he cared not to perform anything very worthy in the\ncompany in which he found himself.\n\nKing Utgard appeared pleased with this choice, and when the giants had\nresumed their seats in the hall, he ordered one of his servants to bring\nin his drinking-cup, called the \u201ccup of penance,\u201d which it was his custom\nto make his guests drain at a draught, if they had broken any of the\nancient rules of the society.\n\n\u201cThere!\u201d he said, handing it to Thor, \u201cwe call it well drunk if a person\nempties it at a single draught. Some, indeed, take two to it; but the\nvery puniest can manage it in three.\u201d\n\nThor looked into the cup; it appeared to him long, but not so very large\nafter all, and being thirsty he put it to his lips, and thought to make\nshort work of it, and empty it at one good, hearty pull. He drank, and\nput the cup down again; but, instead of being empty, it was now just so\nfull that it could be moved without danger of spilling.\n\n\u201cHa! ha! You are keeping all your strength for the second pull, I see,\u201d\nsaid Utgard, looking in. Without answering, Thor lifted the cup again,\nand drank with all his might till his breath failed; but, when he put\ndown the cup, the liquor had only sunk down a little from the brim.\n\n\u201cIf you mean to take three draughts to it,\u201d said Utgard, \u201cyou are really\nleaving yourself a very unfair share for the last time. Look to yourself,\nVing-Thor; for, if you do not acquit yourself better in other feats, we\nshall not think so much of you here as they say the \u00c6sir do in Asgard.\u201d\n\nAt this speech Thor fell angry, and, seizing the cup again, he drank a\nthird time, deeper and longer than he had yet done; but, when he looked\ninto the cup, he saw that a very small part only of its contents had\ndisappeared. Wearied and disappointed he put the cup down, and said he\nwould try no more to empty it.\n\n\u201cIt is pretty plain,\u201d said the king, looking round on the company, \u201cthat\nAsa Thor is by no means the kind of man we always supposed him to be.\u201d\n\n\u201cNay,\u201d said Thor, \u201cI am willing to try another feat, and you yourselves\nshall choose what it shall be.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d said the king, \u201cthere is a game at which our children are used to\nplay. A short time ago I dare not have named it to Asa Thor; but now I am\ncurious to see how he will acquit himself in it. It is merely to lift my\ncat from the ground\u2014a childish amusement truly.\u201d\n\nAs he spoke a large, grey cat sprang into the hall, and Thor, stooping\nforward, put his hand under it to lift it up. He tried gently at first;\nbut by degrees he put forth all his strength, tugging and straining as he\nhad never done before; but the utmost he could do was to raise one of the\ncat\u2019s paws a little way from the ground.\n\n\u201cIt is just as I thought,\u201d said King Utgard, looking round with a smile;\n\u201cbut we all are willing to allow that the cat is large, and Thor but a\nlittle fellow.\u201d\n\n\u201cLittle as you think me,\u201d cried Thor, \u201cwho is there who will dare to\nwrestle with me in my anger?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn truth,\u201d said the king, \u201cI don\u2019t think there is any one here who would\nchoose to wrestle with you; but, if wrestle you must, I will call in that\nold crone Elli. She has, in her time, laid low many a better man than Asa\nThor has shown himself to be.\u201d\n\nThe crone came. She was old, withered, and toothless, and Thor shrank\nfrom the thought of wrestling with her; but he had no choice. She threw\nher arms round him, and drew him toward the ground, and the harder he\ntried to free himself, the tighter grew her grasp. They struggled long.\nThor strove bravely, but a strange feeling of weakness and weariness came\nover him, and at length he tottered and fell down on one knee before her.\nAt this sight all the giants laughed aloud, and Utgard coming up, desired\nthe old woman to leave the hall, and proclaimed that the trials were\nover. No one of his followers would _now_ contend with Asa Thor, he said,\nand night was approaching. He then invited Thor and his companions to\nsit down at the table, and spend the night with him as his guests. Thor,\nthough feeling somewhat perplexed and mortified, accepted his invitation\ncourteously, and showed, by his agreeable behavior during the evening,\nthat he knew how to bear being conquered with a good grace.\n\nIn the morning, when Thor and his companions were leaving the city,\nthe king himself accompanied them without the gates; and Thor, looking\nsteadily at him when he turned to bid him farewell, perceived, for the\nfirst time, that he was the very same Giant Skrymir with whom he had met\nin the forest.\n\n\u201cCome, now, Asa Thor,\u201d said the giant with a strange sort of smile on\nhis face, \u201ctell me truly, before you go, how you think your journey has\nturned out, and whether or not I was right in saying that you would meet\nwith better men than yourself in J\u00f6tunheim.\u201d\n\n\u201cI confess freely,\u201d answered Asa Thor, looking up without any false\nshame on his face, \u201cthat I have acquitted myself but humbly, and it\ngrieves me; for I know that in J\u00f6tunheim henceforward it will be said\nthat I am a man of little worth.\u201d\n\n\u201cBy my troth! no,\u201d cried the giant, heartily. \u201cNever should you have come\ninto my city if I had known what a mighty man of valor you really are;\nand now that you are safely out of it, I will, for once, tell the truth\nto you, Thor. All this time I have been deceiving you by my enchantments.\nWhen you met me in the forest, and hurled Mi\u00f6lnir at my head, I should\nhave been crushed by the weight of your blows had I not skilfully placed\na mountain between myself and you, on which the strokes of your hammer\nfell, and where you cleft three deep ravines, which shall henceforth\nbecome verdant valleys. In the same manner I deceived you about the\ncontests in which you engaged last night. When Loki and Logi sat down\nbefore the trough, Loki, indeed, ate like hunger itself; but Logi is\nfire, who, with eager, consuming tongue, licked up both bones and trough.\nThialfi is the swiftest of mortal runners; but the slender lad, Hugi,\nwas my thought; and what speed can ever equal his? So it was in your own\ntrials. When you took such deep draughts from the horn, you little knew\nwhat a wonderful feat you were performing. The other end of that horn\nreached the ocean, and when you come to the shore you will see how far\nits waters have fallen away, and how much the deep sea itself has been\ndiminished by your draught. Hereafter, men watching the going out of the\ntide will call it the ebb, or draught of Thor.\n\n\u201cScarcely less wonderful was the prowess you displayed in the second\ntrial. What appeared to you to be a cat, was, in reality, the Midgard\nserpent, which encircles the world. When we saw you succeed in moving it\nwe trembled lest the very foundations of earth and sea should be shaken\nby your strength. Nor need you be ashamed of having been overthrown by\nthe old woman Elli, for she is old age; and there never has, and never\nwill be, one whom she has not the power to lay low. We must now part, and\nyou had better not come here again, or attempt anything further against\nmy city; for I shall always defend it by fresh enchantments, and you will\nnever be able to do anything against me.\u201d\n\nAt these words Thor raised Mi\u00f6lnir, and was about to challenge the giant\nto a fresh trial of strength; but, before he could speak, Utgard vanished\nfrom his sight; and, turning round to look for the city, he found that\nit, too, had disappeared, and that he was standing alone on a smooth,\ngreen, empty plain.\n\n\u201cWhat a fool I have been,\u201d said Asa Thor, aloud, \u201cto allow myself to be\ndeceived by a mountain giant!\u201d\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d answered a voice from above, \u201cI told you, you would learn to know\nyourself better by your journey to J\u00f6tunheim. It is the great use of\ntravelling.\u201d\n\nThor turned quickly round again, thinking to see Skrymir behind him; but,\nafter looking on every side, he could perceive nothing, but that a high,\ncloud-capped mountain, which he had noticed on the horizon, appeared to\nhave advanced to the edge of the plain.\n\n [1] Ving-Thor\u2014Winged-Thor.\n\n\n\n\nHOW THOR\u2019S HAMMER WAS LOST AND FOUND\n\nBy E. M. Wilmot-Buxton\n\n\nMost precious in the eyes of Thor was his magic hammer, Mi\u00f6lnir, of which\neven the mighty Frost Giants stood in dread.\n\nAlways he laid it by his side when he went to rest, and always it was\nthe first thing for which his hand was outstretched when he awoke. Judge\nthen of his horror and dismay when, on opening his eyes one morning, the\nhammer was nowhere to be seen.\n\nStarting up with a roar of rage, Thor commenced to search everywhere\nfor the missing weapon. Up and down his wonderful palace, built of the\nthunder clouds, he tramped, with a noise that shook the whole city of\nAsgard. But the hammer was not to be found.\n\nThen he called upon golden-haired Sif, his wife, and bade her help in the\nsearch; and still the hammer was nowhere to be seen. It was clear that\nsomeone must have stolen it, and, when he realized this, Thor\u2019s wrath\nbroke all bounds. His bristling red hair and beard stood up on end, and\nfrom them flew a whole volley of fiery sparks.\n\nPresently, as the angry Asa was shaking the palace with his thunderous\nvoice, Red Loki came along to inquire into the trouble. He was not likely\nto sympathize with Thor, but, always brimful of curiosity, he loved to\nhave a part in everything that happened.\n\n\u201cWhat\u2019s the matter, Asa Thor?\u201d said he; and Thor replied, lowering his\nvoice as he spoke, for he did not want his loss to be too widely known:\n\n\u201cNow listen to what I tell thee, Loki\u2014\u2019tis a thing which is known neither\non earth below nor in heaven above. My hammer\u2019s gone.\u201d\n\nThis news was most interesting to Loki, who had long owed Thor a grudge,\nwhich he was afraid to pay openly. \u201cHo, ho!\u201d said he. \u201cThen shall we soon\nhave the giants turning us out of Asgard, brother Thor.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot if you use your wits as you know how,\u201d growled Thor, still in a very\nbad temper. \u201cCome, you call yourself a clever fellow. Find out for me who\nhas robbed me of my thunderbolt, my hammer, my Mi\u00f6lnir.\u201d\n\nThen Loki gave a grin and a wink, and promised to do what he could\u2014not\nbecause he cared for Thor, but because he loved to be of importance, and\nwas, moreover, really frightened as to what might happen to Asgard if the\nmagic hammer was not at hand.\n\nIt was not long before he noticed that an extraordinary kind of tempest\nwas raging in the regions below\u2014not an orderly kind of tempest, with\nfirst some thunder, and then some rain, and then a gust of wind or\ntwo, such as Thor was wont to arrange, but a mixture of hail and wind\nand thunder and lightning and rain and snow, all raging together in a\ntremendous muddle, so that the earth folk thought the end of the world\nwas come.\n\nThis gave Loki a hint, and he began to peer about between the clouds,\nuntil at length he saw that the trouble was coming from a certain hill\nwhich stood in the center of Giantland.\n\nNow on the top of this hill lived a certain Thrym, prince of the Frost\nGiants, who for a long time past had been very envious of the might of\nThor. He had, indeed, done his best to imitate him as far as he could,\nand had managed to get up a very good imitation of lightning and hail and\nrain; but he had not been able to manage the thunderbolts, for they could\nonly be made by means of Thor\u2019s hammer, Mi\u00f6lnir.\n\nAll this was well known to Red Loki, and he was therefore not at all\nsurprised to find that, somehow or other, Thrym must have got hold of the\nmagic weapon; for here were thunderbolts crashing about the earth and sky\nat a terrible rate.\n\nWhen informed of the discovery, Thor flew into a still more tremendous\nrage, and wanted to rush off at once to try conclusions with the giant.\nBut Loki, who loved rather to get a thing by trickery and deceit,\npersuaded him that violence would never do.\n\n\u201cRemember,\u201d said he, \u201cthat Thrym _with_ the hammer is much stronger than\nThor without it. This is a matter which must be managed by clever wit and\ncraft, not by force and loud talking. Leave therefore the whole matter to\nme.\u201d\n\nTo this Thor very reluctantly agreed.\n\nThen Loki bethought him of some disguise wherein he might visit Giantland\nin safety, for he was not at all anxious to risk his life. He betook\nhimself to the House of Maidens, over which ruled Freya, fairest of all\nin Asgard, she who was wont to shake the spring flowers from her golden\nlocks as she passed over the frozen uplands, leaving behind her a region\nof green and smiling beauty. Loki found the goddess, and begged the loan\nof her magic falcon plumes, in which she was wont to flit to and fro over\nthe earth; and when she learnt for what purpose he needed them she gladly\nassented.\n\nThen Loki took the appearance of a great brown bird, and spreading his\nwings he flew away toward Giantland.\n\nIt was a long journey, as he already knew, and, although the tempest had\nnow ceased to rage, he found the country of the giants darker and colder\nand drearier than ever.\n\nThe longest journey comes to an end, and at length Loki reached a\nmountain where sat the Giant Thrym, his huge legs dangling to the ground,\nplaying with a puppy as large as an elephant.\n\nPerching as near as he dared, Loki gazed at the giant with his bright,\nround eyes, and was wondering how to begin, when Thrym, who, at a glance,\nhad seen completely through his disguise, said calmly, in a voice as much\nas possible like Thor\u2019s thunderous roar: \u201cOh, ho! Loki, what are you\ndoing so far from Asgard? Are you not afraid, little fellow as you are,\nto venture alone into our country?\u201d\n\nThen Loki, thinking to win his way by flattery, replied: \u201cSad indeed is\nit in Asgard, now that Mi\u00f6lnir has vanished. Clever was that one who\nspirited it away from the very side of Thor. Methinks none but you could\nhave done it, O mighty Thrym!\u201d\n\nPleased with the compliment to his cleverness the giant chuckled before\nadmitting: \u201cAy, Loki, the hammer is mine, \u2019tis very true; and now men\nwill know who really is the Thunderer.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh well!\u201d sighed cunning Loki, \u201csome men are strong by reason of their\nweapons, and some are just as strong without. Small need have you, O\nmighty Thrym, for hammers, but Thor is naught without it. Yet, since all\nthe world knows that you are his master, let him have his plaything back,\nthat we may cease to be troubled by his peevish outcry.\u201d\n\nBut though Thrym was as stupid as he was big, he was not to be caught\nthus.\n\n\u201cNo, no, my little Loki,\u201d he said. \u201cMine is the hammer, and deep have I\nburied it beneath the bottom of the sea. Go, tell this to your Asa folk,\nand say to them that I will give it back on one condition only\u2014and that\nis, that they send me Freya, that fairest of maidens, to be my wife.\u201d\n\nAt this suggestion Loki could scarcely keep from laughing, for the idea\nof sending the beautiful Freya, the joy and delight of Asgard, to be the\nwife of this ill-favored Frost Giant was too absurd for words.\n\nIt was not much to him, however, what happened to anyone except himself,\nso he hastened to reply: \u201cBe sure, O Thrym, that everything I can do to\nfurther the matter shall be done. And if Freya is of the same mind as I\nyou will soon be welcoming that most sweet maiden to Giantland\u2014farewell!\u201d\n\nSo saying, he spread his brown wings and flew back to Asgard, delighted\nto think of the mischief he could now set brewing.\n\nFirst of all he visited Thor, and told him of what had passed. And the\nThunderer, when he heard of Thrym\u2019s boastful words, was filled with wild\nwrath and wanted to start off, then and there, and wrest the hammer from\nthe depths of the sea. But Loki pointed out the difficulties that stood\nin the way and, leaving the Asa to ponder over his words, he hurried off\nto Freya and informed her of Thrym\u2019s proposal.\n\nThe beautiful Freya was walking in her garden, and round her neck she\nwore her famous necklet of stars. When she heard Loki\u2019s suggestion that\nshe should wed a hideous giant she fell into such a rage that she broke\nher necklet, and all the stars went falling through the sky, so that men\ncried:\n\n\u201cSee how the stars are shooting!\u201d\n\nMeantime the Asa folk had met together to consider all that had happened,\nand, having calmed the fury of Thor, they pointed out to him that Asgard\nstood in the gravest danger of an attack which would find them quite\nunprotected. When they had said this several times over, Thor began to\nweary of the subject, and he replied with great surliness: \u201cVery well,\nthen. Let Freya go to Thrym as his wife, and then shall we be as before,\nwith Mi\u00f6lnir to defend us.\u201d\n\nWhen Freya heard this, her rage turned to tears and lamentations, and she\ndeclared that it would be death to her to send her to the gloomy halls of\nGiantland, whence she could never hope to revisit the flowery meads and\ngrassy slopes of Asgard. And the Asas, unable to bear the sight of her\ngrief, with one voice declared that they would never spare her from the\nHome of Bliss.\n\nThen there stepped forward Heimdall, the watchman who sits on guard over\nthe Rainbow Bridge by night and day.\n\nNow Heimdall had the gift of seeing into the future, and the Asas were\nalways ready to hear his words, well knowing them to be wise.\n\n\u201cMy plan is this,\u201d said he. \u201cLet Thor borrow the clothes of Freya and put\na thick veil over his face; and let him go thus to Thrym\u2019s castle and\npass for his bride. And if he cannot by some means manage to get hold of\nthe hammer when he is there\u2014why, he must give it up altogether.\u201d\n\nAt this suggestion the Asas clapped their hands with approval\u2014all,\nindeed, save Thor, who looked most glum, and was extremely unwilling to\nagree to the plan.\n\n\u201cDress me as a bride!\u201d he grumbled. \u201cA pretty maiden I shall make. Ready\nenough am I to fight, but I will not make myself a laughing-stock if I\nknow it.\u201d\n\nBut the Asas besought him to give way, while Loki twitted him with\ncowardice. Fair Freya, too, appealed with tearful eyes; and so at length,\nwith great reluctance, the Thunderer agreed to do what they wished.\n\nFortunately the maiden Freya was very tall, but even so it was with some\ndifficulty that they managed to cover the burly form of Thor with her\nrobes.\n\nHe insisted, moreover, upon wearing his own shirt of mail and his girdle\nof strength; and these took much drapery to hide. Great was the laughter\nin the halls of Asgard that night as the Battle Maidens brushed and\ncurled Thor\u2019s long yellow hair, and set a jewelled headdress upon it;\nand finally, when the maidens proceeded to cover up his thick heard and\nangry eyes with a silken veil, the mirth of the Asas was unrestrained. To\ncomplete the disguise the maidens hung round his neck the famous necklet,\nwhich had now been re-strung, and finally Frigga, the wife of All-Father\nOdin, secured at his girdle the great bunch of keys proper to brides at a\nwedding in the Northland.\n\nWhile this was being done, Loki, more than all, had been convulsed with\nmerriment at the success of his mischief-making. The very sight of Thor\u2019s\ndisgusted looks, and of his great hands clenched with rage under the\ndelicate veil, nearly killed him with laughter; and when all was ready he\ndeclared himself unable to lose an atom of the fun in store.\n\n\u201cLet me go with you,\u201d he implored. \u201cSee, I will dress myself as your\nhand-maiden. Ah, you had better agree, for without me to prompt you, you\nwill never play your part.\u201d\n\nSo Loki was dressed as a waiting-maid, and took his seat very demurely\nby the side of Thor in the goat-car. Loud was the laughter in Asgard\nas the Asas watched the two drive off together and heard the roar of\nthe Thunderer\u2019s voice issuing from the folds of a meek maiden\u2019s veil as\nhe urged his goats upon their course. Long and stormy was that ride to\nGiantland, for Thor was still in the worst of tempers, and drove his\nchariot so furiously that\n\n \u201cThe mountains crashed\n The earth stood in flames,\u201d\n\nas the hoofs of the goats clattered over mountains and waters, striking\nsparks wherever they touched a rock.\n\nThrym was much overjoyed when he heard that a chariot containing the two\nmaidens was approaching his door. Away ran his servants in different\ndirections, some with orders to make ready a grand banquet, some to\nprepare the chamber of the brides some to receive her at the door.\n\nThe giant himself assisted them to alight, and looked with admiration at\nthe stately figure of his bride; but he made no attempt to see her face,\nsince it is the custom in the Northland for the bride to remain veiled\nuntil the marriage has been completed.\n\n\u201cA bride worthy of a giant!\u201d murmured his servants, as he led her to a\nlofty seat beside his own great throne of gold; and they looked with\napproval also on the buxom form of the waiting-maid, who stood, closely\nveiled, behind her mistress\u2019s chair.\n\nNow the journey had been long and cold, and it was with joy that the\nnew-comers noticed that the preparations for the banquet were complete,\nfor they were exceedingly hungry.\n\nThe giants are huge eaters, and they gathered round the board whereon\nwere displayed an enormous ox roasted whole, a vast dish of salmon and\nvarious other dainties. But because the bride was a woman, and modest\nwithal, they brought her tiny morsels on a dainty golden plate.\n\nThis was too much for Thor, who had always possessed a most healthy\nappetite, and was now more than usually ready for his supper. Gradually\ndrawing nearer to the table, while the others were busy with the meal, he\nmanaged to get hold of the dish of roasted ox, and within a few minutes\nthe whole of the animal had disappeared.\n\nThen he put out his hand to the platter of salmon, and in eight mouthfuls\ndisposed of eight of the great fish. After this he noticed a large plate\nfull of cakes and sweetmeats, which was set apart for the ladies of the\nparty. Of these, too, he made short work.\n\nFinally, feeling thirsty after his huge meal, he took up two barrels of\nmead, and tossed them off, one after another, down his capacious throat.\nThen he sat back on his chair with a sigh of deep content.\n\nThese proceedings had been watched by Loki with uneasiness, but by Thrym\nwith open-mouthed dismay. Was this the usual appetite of this dainty\nmaiden, who had eaten more than the company of giants? But Loki bent\ntoward him and whispered in his ear that the thought of marrying had\nso excited Freya that she had eaten nothing for eight days, and had\ntherefore been on the point of starvation.\n\nThis reassured the giant, and being now himself filled with mead he drew\nnearer and, lifting a corner of the veil, tried to kiss the cheek of his\nfuture bride.\n\nBut Thor, who was longing to be at close grips with him, threw him such\na fiery glance that he drew quickly back, saying: \u201cWhy does fair Freya\u2019s\neye burn like a spark from a furnace?\u201d \u201cPooh!\u201d whispered Loki again,\n\u201cthat is nothing but her love for you, which for eight days has raged\nlike a flaming fire.\u201d\n\nThis news was still more pleasant to hear, and Thrym, in high good humor,\ncried: \u201cBring in the hammer, my wedding gift, wherewith to plight the\nmaid. For when I have laid it on her lap she will be my own forever, and\ntogether we will work dire evil against the Asa folk, whom I hate with\nall my heart.\u201d\n\nWhat was that unmaidenly sound that issued from under the silken veil at\nthese words? But though Loki turned pale to hear it, Thrym, busy sending\nfor the hammer, did not pay any heed.\n\nBack came the giant\u2019s servants at length, bending under the weight of\nMi\u00f6lnir. And as they bowed before the silent maiden, sitting with meekly\nbent head upon the throne, Thrym cried with a merry jest: \u201cSee, here is\nlittle Thor\u2019s tiny plaything\u2014a pretty toy truly for his feeble hands.\nTake it, fair Freya, as my wedding gift.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd take _that_ as mine!\u201d roared Thor, in a voice of thunder, as he\nflung off the veil and rose to his full height. And with the words he\nswung the hammer once\u2014and ere the eye could follow its movement, it had\ncrashed through Thrym\u2019s skull, and had knocked over a round dozen of his\nguests. Yet again did it swing in the Asa\u2019s hand, and this time it left\nnot a giant standing in the hall.\n\nA third time it was swung, and on this occasion the roof and walls of\nthe palace came tumbling on every side, and only Thor and Loki were left\nalive amid the ruins.\n\n\u201cHa! ha!\u201d laughed Red Loki, \u201cthat was neatly done, fair Freya.\u201d\n\nThor, who was now busily tearing off the hated robes and veil, stayed to\nlook threateningly at his companion. \u201cNo more of that, Loki,\u201d said he,\n\u201cthe thing had to be done, \u2019tis true, but talk not to me again of this\nwoman\u2019s work. We will remember only that I am the Thunderer, and that my\nhammer that was lost is found.\u201d\n\nSo they drove back peacefully to Asgard.\n\nAnd this is the end of the tale of How Thor\u2019s Hammer was lost and found.\n\n\n\n\nIDUNA\u2019S APPLES OF YOUTH\n\nBy A. and E. Keary\n\n\nI. REFLECTIONS IN THE WATER\n\nOf all the groves and gardens round the city of Asgard\u2014and they were\nmany and beautiful\u2014there was none so beautiful as the one where Iduna,\nthe wife of Bragi, lived. It stood on the south side of the hill, not\nfar from Gladsheim, and it was called \u201cAlways Young,\u201d because nothing\nthat grew there could ever decay, or become the least bit older than it\nwas on the day when Iduna entered it. The trees wore always a tender,\nlight green color, as the hedges do in spring. The flowers were mostly\nhalf-opened, and every blade of grass bore always a trembling, glittering\ndrop of early dew. Brisk little winds wandered about the grove, making\nthe leaves dance from morning till night and swaying backwards and\nforwards the heads of the flowers.\n\n\u201cBlow away!\u201d said the leaves to the wind, \u201cfor we shall never be tired.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you will never be old,\u201d said the winds in answer. And then the birds\ntook up the chorus and sang:\n\n\u201cNever tired and never old.\u201d\n\nIduna, the mistress of the grove, was fit to live among young birds,\nand tender leaves, and spring flowers. She was so fair that when she\nbent over the river to entice her swans to come to her, even the stupid\nfish stood still in the water, afraid to destroy so beautiful an image\nby swimming over it; and when she held out her hand with bread for the\nswans to eat, you would not have known it from a water-lily\u2014it was so\nwonderfully white.\n\nIduna never left her grove even to pay a visit to her nearest neighbor,\nand yet she did not lead by any means a dull life; for, besides having\nthe company of her husband, Bragi, who must have been an entertaining\nperson to live with (for he is said to have known a story which never\ncame to an end, and yet which never grew wearisome), all the heroes of\nAsgard made a point of coming to call upon her every day. It was natural\nenough that they should like to visit so beautiful a grove and so fair a\nlady; and yet, to confess the truth, it was not quite to see either the\ngrove or Iduna that they came.\n\nIduna herself was well aware of this, and when her visitors had chatted\na short time with her, she never failed to bring out from the innermost\nrecess of her bower a certain golden casket, and to request as a favor,\nthat her guests would not think of going away till they had tasted her\napples, which, she flattered herself, had a better flavor than any other\nfruit in the world.\n\nIt would have been quite unlike a hero of Asgard to have refused such\ncourtesy; and, besides, Iduna was not as far wrong about her apples as\nhostesses generally are, when they boast of the good things on their\ntables.\n\nThere is no doubt her apples _had_ a peculiar flavor; and if any one of\nthe heroes happened to be a little tired, or a little out of spirits,\nor a little cross, when they came into the bower, it always followed\nthat, as soon as he had eaten one apple, he found himself as fresh, and\nvigorous, and happy as he had ever been in his life.\n\nSo fond were the heroes of these apples, and so necessary did they think\nthem to their daily comfort, that they never went on a journey without\nrequesting Iduna to give them one or two, to fortify them against the\nfatigues of the way.\n\nIduna had no difficulty in complying with this request; she had no fear\nof her store ever failing, for as surely as she took an apple from\nher casket another fell in; but where it came from Iduna could never\ndiscover. She never saw it till it was close to the bottom of the casket;\nbut she always heard the sweet tinkling sound it made when it touched the\ngolden rim. It was as good as play to stand by her casket, taking the\napples out, and watching the fresh rosy ones come tumbling in, without\nknowing who threw them.\n\nOne spring morning Iduna was very busy taking apples out of her casket;\nfor several of the heroes were taking advantage of the fine weather to\njourney out into the world. Bragi was going from home for a time; perhaps\nhe was tired of telling his story only to Iduna, and perhaps she was\nbeginning to know it by heart; and Odin, Loki, and H\u0153nir had agreed to\ntake a little tour in the direction of J\u00f6tunheim, just to see if any\nentertaining adventure would befall them. When they had all received\ntheir apples, and taken a tender farewell of Iduna, the grove\u2014green and\nfair as it was\u2014looked, perhaps, a little solitary.\n\nIduna stood by her fountain, watching the bright water as it danced up\ninto the air and quivered, and turned, and fell back, making a hundred\nlittle flashing circles in the river; and then she grew tired, for once,\nof the light and the noise, and wandered down to a still place, where the\nriver was shaded by low bushes on each side, and reflected clearly the\nblue sky overhead.\n\nIduna sat down and looked into the deep water. Besides her own fair face\nthere were little, wandering, white clouds to be seen reflected there.\nShe counted them as they sailed past. At length a strange form was\nreflected up to her from the water\u2014large, dark, lowering wings, pointed\nclaws, a head with fierce eyes\u2014looking at her.\n\nIduna started and raised her head. It was above as well as below; the\nsame wings\u2014the same eyes\u2014the same head\u2014looking down from the blue sky, as\nwell as up from the water. Such a sight had never been seen near Asgard\nbefore; and, while Iduna looked, the thing waved its wings, and went up,\nup, up, till it lessened to a dark spot in the clouds, and on the river.\n\nIt was no longer terrible to look at; but, as it shook its wings a number\nof little black feathers fell from them, and flew down toward the grove.\nAs they neared the trees, they no longer looked like feathers\u2014each had\ntwo independent wings and a head of its own; they were, in fact, a swarm\nof Nervous Apprehensions; troublesome little insects enough, and well\nknown elsewhere, but which now, for the first time, found their way into\nthe grove.\n\nIduna ran away from them; she shook them off; she fought quite bravely\nagainst them; but they are by no means easy to get rid of; and when, at\nlast, one crept within the folds of her dress, and twisted itself down\nto her heart, a new, strange feeling thrilled there\u2014a feeling never yet\nknown to any dweller in Asgard. Iduna did not know what to make of it.\n\n\nII. THE WINGED-GIANT\n\nIn the meantime Odin, Loki, and H\u0153nir proceeded on their journey. They\nwere not bound on any particular quest. They strayed hither and thither\nthat Odin might see that things were going on well in the world, and his\nsubjects comporting themselves in a becoming manner. Every now and then\nthey halted while Odin inspected the thatching of a barn, or stood at the\nsmithy to see how the smith wielded his hammer, or in a furrow to observe\nif the ploughman guided his plough-share evenly through the soil. \u201cWell\ndone,\u201d he said if the workman was working with all his might; and he\nturned away, leaving something behind him, a straw in the barn, a piece\nof old iron at the forge-door, a grain in the furrow\u2014nothing to look at;\nbut ever after the barn was always full, the forge-fire never went out,\nthe field yielded bountifully.\n\nToward noon the \u00c6sir reached a shady valley, and, feeling tired and\nhungry, Odin proposed to sit down under a tree, and while he rested and\nstudied a book of runes which he had with him, he requested Loki and\nH\u0153nir to prepare some dinner.\n\n\u201cI will undertake the meat and the fire,\u201d said H\u0153nir; \u201cyou, Loki, will\nlike nothing better than foraging about for what good things you can pick\nup.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is precisely what I mean to do,\u201d said Loki. \u201cThere is a farmhouse\nnear here, from which I can perceive a savory smell. It will be strange,\nwith my cunning, if I do not contrive to have the best of all the dishes\nunder this tree before your fire is burnt up.\u201d\n\nAs Loki spoke he turned a stone in his hand, and immediately he assumed\nthe shape of a large black cat.\n\nIn this form he stole in at the kitchen-window of a farmhouse, where a\nbusy housewife was intent on taking pies and cakes from a deep oven, and\nranging them on a dresser under the window. Loki watched his opportunity,\nand whenever the mistress\u2019s back was turned he whisked a cake or a pie\nout of the window.\n\n\u201cOne, two, three. Why, there are fewer every time I bring a fresh one\nfrom the oven!\u201d cried the bewildered housewife. \u201cIt\u2019s that thieving cat.\nI see the end of her tail on the window-sill.\u201d Out of the window leant\nthe housewife to throw a stone at the cat, but she could see nothing but\na thin cow trespassing in her garden; and when she ran out with a stick\nto drive away the cow, it, too, had vanished, and an old raven, with she\nyoung ones, was flying over the garden-hedge.\n\nThe raven was Loki, the little ones were the pies; and when he reached\nthe valley, and changed himself and them into their proper shapes, he had\na hearty laugh at his own cleverness, and at the old woman\u2019s dismay.\n\n\u201cWell done, Loki, king of thieves,\u201d said a chorus of foxes, who peeped\nout of their holes to see the only one of the \u00c6sir whose conduct they\ncould appreciate; but Odin, when he heard of it, was very far from\nthinking it well done. He was extremely displeased with Loki for having\ndisgraced himself by such mean tricks.\n\n\u201cIt is true,\u201d he said, \u201cthat my subjects may well be glad to furnish\nme with all I require, but it should be done knowingly. Return to the\nfarmhouse, and place these three black stones on the table from whence\nyou stole the provisions.\u201d\n\nLoki\u2014unwilling as he was to do anything he believed likely to bring good\nto others\u2014was obliged to obey. He made himself into the shape of a white\nowl, flew once more through the window, and dropped the stones out of his\nbeak; they sank deep into the table, and looked like three black stains\non the white deal-board.\n\nFrom that time the housewife led an easy life; there was no need for her\nto grind corn, or mix dough, or prepare meat. Let her enter her kitchen\nat what time of day she would, stores of provisions stood smoking hot on\nthe table. She kept her own counsel about it, and enjoyed the reputation\nof being the most economical housekeeper in the whole country-side; but\none thing disturbed her mind, and prevented her thoroughly enjoying the\nenvy and wonder of the neighboring wives. All the rubbing, and brushing,\nand cleaning in the world would not remove the three black stains from\nher kitchen table, and as she had no cooking to do, she spent the greater\npart of her time in looking at them.\n\n\u201cIf they were but gone,\u201d she said, a hundred times every day, \u201cI should\nbe content; but how is one to enjoy one\u2019s life when one cannot rub the\nstains off one\u2019s own table?\u201d\n\nPerhaps Loki foresaw how the good wife would use her gift; for he came\nback from the farmhouse in the best spirits. \u201cWe will now, with Father\nOdin\u2019s permission, sit down to dinner,\u201d he said; \u201cfor surely, brother\nH\u0153nir, while I have been making so many journeys to and fro, you have\nbeen doing something with that fire which I see blazing so fiercely, and\nwith that old iron pot smoking over it.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe meat will be by this time ready, no doubt,\u201d said H\u0153nir. \u201cI killed a\nwild ox while you were away, and part of it has been now for some time\nstewing in the pot.\u201d\n\nThe \u00c6sir now seated themselves near the fire, and H\u0153nir lifted up the lid\nof the pot. A thick steam rose up from it; but when he took out the meat\nit was as red and uncooked as when he first put it into the pot.\n\n\u201cPatience,\u201d said H\u0153nir; and Odin again took out his book of runes.\nAnother hour passed, and H\u0153nir again took off the lid, and looked at the\nmeat; but it was in precisely the same state as before. This happened\nseveral times, and even the cunning Loki was puzzled; when, suddenly, a\nstrange noise was heard coming from a tree near, and, looking up, they\nsaw an enormous human-headed eagle seated on one of the branches, and\nlooking at them with two fierce eyes. While they looked it spoke.\n\n\u201cGive me my share of the feast,\u201d it said, \u201cand the meat shall presently\nbe done.\u201d\n\n\u201cCome down and take it\u2014it lies before you,\u201d said Loki, while Odin looked\non with thoughtful eyes; for he saw plainly that it was no mortal bird\nwho had the boldness to claim a share in the \u00c6sir\u2019s food.\n\nUndaunted by Odin\u2019s majestic looks, the eagle flew down, and, seizing a\nlarge piece of meat, was going to fly away with it, when Loki, thinking\nhe had now got the bird in his power, took up a stick that lay near, and\nstruck a hard blow on the eagle\u2019s back. The stick made a ringing sound as\nit fell; but when Loki tried to draw it back, he found that it stuck with\nextraordinary force to the eagle\u2019s back; neither could he withdraw his\nown hands from the other end.\n\nSomething like a laugh came from the creature\u2019s half-human,\nhalf-bird-like mouth; and then it spread its dark wings and rose up into\nthe air, dragging Loki after.\n\n\u201cIt is as I thought,\u201d said Odin, as he saw the eagle\u2019s enormous bulk\nbrought out against the sky; \u201cit is Thiassi, the strongest giant in\nJ\u00f6tunheim, who has presumed to show himself in our presence. Loki has\nonly received the reward of his treachery, and it would ill-become us to\ninterfere in his behalf; but, as the monster is near, it will be well for\nus to return to Asgard, lest any misfortune should befall the city in our\nabsence.\u201d\n\nWhile Odin spoke, the winged creature had risen up so high as to be\ninvisible even to the eyes of the \u00c6sir; and, during their return to\nAsgard, he did not again appear before them; but, as they approached the\ngates of the city, they were surprised to see Loki coming to meet them.\nHe had a crest-fallen and bewildered look; and when they questioned him\nas to what had happened to him since they parted in such a strange way,\nhe declared himself to be quite unable to give any further account of his\nadventures than that he had been carried rapidly through the air by the\ngiant, and, at last, thrown down from a great height near the place where\nthe \u00c6sir met him.\n\nOdin looked steadfastly at him as he spoke, but he forbore to question\nhim further: for he knew well that there was no hope of hearing the truth\nfrom Loki, and he kept within his own mind the conviction he felt that\nsome disastrous result must follow a meeting between two such evil-doers\nas Loki and the giant Thiassi.\n\nThat evening, when the \u00c6sir were all feasting and telling stories to each\nother in the great hall of Valhalla, Loki stole out from Gladsheim, and\nwent alone to visit Iduna in her grove. It was a still, bright evening.\nThe leaves of the trees moved softly up and down, whispering sweet words\nto each other; the flowers, with half-shut eyes, nodded sleepily to their\nown reflections in the water, and Iduna sat by the fountain, with her\nhead resting in one hand, thinking of pleasant things.\n\n\u201cIt is all very well,\u201d thought Loki; \u201cbut I am not the happier because\npeople can here live such pleasant lives. It does not do me any good, or\ncure the pain I have had so long in my heart.\u201d\n\nLoki\u2019s long shadow\u2014for the sun was setting\u2014fell on the water as he\napproached, and made Iduna start. She remembered the sight that had\ndisturbed her so much in the morning; but when she saw only Loki, she\nlooked up and smiled kindly; for he had often accompanied the other \u00c6sir\nin their visits to her grove.\n\n\u201cI am wearied with a long journey,\u201d said Loki abruptly, \u201cand I would eat\none of your apples to refresh me after my fatigue.\u201d The casket stood by\nIduna\u2019s side, and she immediately put in her hand and gave Loki an apple.\nTo her surprise, instead of thanking her warmly, or beginning to eat it,\nhe turned it round and round in his hand with a contemptuous air.\n\n\u201cIt is true then,\u201d he said, after looking intently at the apple for\nsome time, \u201cyour apples are but small and withered in comparison. I was\nunwilling to believe it at first, but now I can doubt no longer.\u201d\n\n\u201cSmall and withered!\u201d said Iduna, rising hastily. \u201cNay, Asa Odin himself,\nwho has traversed the whole world, assures me that he has never seen any\nto be compared to them.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat will never be said again,\u201d returned Loki, \u201cfor this very afternoon\nI have discovered a tree, in a grove not far from Asgard, on which grow\napples so beautiful that no one who has seen them will ever care again\nfor yours.\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not wish to see or hear of them,\u201d said Iduna, trying to turn away\nwith an indifferent air; but Loki followed her, and continued to speak\nmore and more strongly of the beauty of this new fruit, hinting that\nIduna would be sorry that she had refused to listen when she found all\nher guests deserting her for the new grove, and when even Bragi began to\nthink lightly of her and of her gifts. At this Iduna sighed, and Loki\ncame up close to her, and whispered in her ear:\n\n\u201cIt is but a short way from Asgard, and the sun has not yet set. Come out\nwith me, and, before any one else has seen the apples, you shall gather\nthem, and put them in your casket, and no woman shall ever have it in her\npower to boast that she can feast the \u00c6sir more sumptuously than Iduna.\u201d\n\nNow Iduna had often been cautioned by her husband never to let anything\ntempt her to leave the grove, and she had always been so happy here, that\nshe thought there was no use in his telling her the same thing so often\nover; but now her mind was so full of the wonderfully beautiful fruit,\nand she felt such a burning wish to get it for herself, that she quite\nforgot her husband\u2019s commands.\n\n\u201cIt is only a little way,\u201d she said to herself; \u201cthere can be no harm in\ngoing out just this once;\u201d and, as Loki went on urging her, she took up\nher basket from the ground hastily, and begged him to show her the way\nto this other grove. Loki walked very quickly, and Iduna had not time to\ncollect her thoughts before she found herself at the entrance of Always\nYoung. At the gate she would gladly have stopped a minute to take breath;\nbut Loki took hold of her hand, and forced her to pass through, though,\nat the very moment of passing, she half drew back; for it seemed to her\nas if all the trees in the grove suddenly called out in alarm, \u201cCome\nback, come back, oh, come back, Iduna!\u201d She half drew back her hand,\nbut it was too late; the gate fell behind her, and she and Loki stood\ntogether without the grove.\n\nThe trees rose up between them and the setting sun, and cast a deep\nshadow on the place where they stood; a cold, night air blew on Iduna\u2019s\ncheek, and made her shiver.\n\n\u201cLet us hasten on,\u201d she said to Loki; \u201clet us hasten on, and soon come\nback again.\u201d\n\nBut Loki was not looking on, he was looking up. Iduna raised her eyes\nin the direction of his, and her heart died within her; for there, high\nup over her head, just as she had seen it in the morning, hung the\nlowering, dark wings\u2014the sharp talons\u2014the fierce head, looking at her.\nFor one moment it stood still above her head, and then lower, lower,\nlower, the huge shadow fell; and, before Iduna found breath to speak, the\ndark wings were folded round her, and she was borne high up in the air,\nnorthwards, towards the gray mist that hangs over J\u00f6tunheim. Loki watched\ntill she was out of sight, and then returned to Asgard. The presence of\nthe giant was no wonder to him; for he had, in truth, purchased his own\nrelease by promising to deliver up Iduna and her casket into his power;\nbut, as he returned alone through the grove, a foreboding fear pressed on\nhis mind.\n\n\u201cIf it should be true,\u201d he thought, \u201cthat Iduna\u2019s apples have the\nwonderful power Odin attributes to them! if I among the rest should\nsuffer from the loss!\u201d\n\nOccupied with these thoughts, he passed quickly among the trees, keeping\nhis eyes resolutely fixed on the ground. He dare not trust himself to\nlook around; for once, when he had raised his head, he fancied that,\ngliding through the brushwood, he had seen the dark robes and pale face\nof his daughter Hela.\n\n\nIII. HELA\n\nWhen it was known that Iduna had disappeared from her grove, there\nwere many sorrowful faces in Asgard, and anxious voices were heard\ninquiring for her. Loki walked about with as grave a face, mid asked as\nmany questions, as any one else; but he had a secret fear that became\nstronger every day, that now, at last, the consequence of his evil ways\nwould find him out.\n\nDays passed on, and the looks of care, instead of wearing away, deepened\non the faces of the \u00c6sir.\n\nThey met, and looked at each other, and turned away sighing; each saw\nthat some strange change was creeping over all the others, and none liked\nto be the first to speak of it. It came on very gradually\u2014a little change\nevery day, and no day ever passing without the change. The leaves of the\ntrees in Iduna\u2019s grove deepened in color. They first became a somber\ngreen, then a glowing red, and, at last, a pale brown; and when the brisk\nwinds came and blew them about, they moved every day more languidly.\n\n\u201cLet us alone,\u201d they said at length. \u201cWe are tired, tired, tired.\u201d\n\nThe winds, surprised, carried the new sound to Gladsheim, and whispered\nit all round the banquet-hall where the \u00c6sir sat, and then they rushed\nback again, and blew all through the grove.\n\n\u201cWe are tired,\u201d said the leaves again; \u201cwe are tired, we are old; we are\ngoing to die;\u201d and at the word they broke from the trees one by one, and\nfluttered to the ground, glad to rest anywhere; and the winds, having\nnothing else to do, went back to Gladsheim with the last strange word\nthey had learned.\n\nThe \u00c6sir were all assembled in Valhalla; but there were no stories told,\nand no songs sung. No one spoke much but Loki, and he was that day in a\ntalking humor. He moved from one to another, whispering an unwelcome word\nin every ear.\n\n\u201cHave you noticed your mother Frigga?\u201d he said to Baldur. \u201cDo you see how\nwhite her hair is growing, and what a number of deep lines are printed on\nher face?\u201d\n\nThen he turned to Frey. \u201cLook at your sister Freya and your friend\nBaldur,\u201d he said, \u201cas they sit opposite to us. What a change has come\nover them lately! Who would think that that pale man and that faded woman\nwere Baldur the beautiful and Freya the fair?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are tired\u2014you are old\u2014you are going to die,\u201d moaned the winds,\nwandering all round the great halls, and coming in and out of the hundred\ndoorways, and all the \u00c6sir looked up at the sad sound. Then they saw,\nfor the first time, that a new guest had seated herself that day at the\ntable of the \u00c6sir. There could be no question of her fitness on the\nscore of royalty, for a crown rested on her brow, and in her hand she\nheld a scepter; but the fingers that grasped the scepter were white and\nfleshless, and under the crown looked the threatening face of Hela, half\ncorpse, half queen.\n\nA great fear fell on all the \u00c6sir as they looked, and only Odin found\nvoice to speak to her. \u201cDreadful daughter of Loki!\u201d he said, \u201cby what\nwarrant do you dare to leave the kingdom where I permit you to reign, and\ncome to take your place among the \u00c6sir, who are no mates for such as you?\u201d\n\nThen Hela raised her bony finger, and pointed, one by one, to the guests\nthat sat round. \u201cWhite hair,\u201d she said, \u201cwrinkled faces, weary limbs,\ndull eyes\u2014these are the warrants which have summoned me from the land of\nshadows to sit among the \u00c6sir. I have come to claim you, by these signs,\nas my future guests, and to tell you that I am preparing a place for you\nin my kingdom.\u201d\n\nAt every word she spoke a gust of icy wind came from her mouth and froze\nthe blood in the listeners\u2019 veins. If she had stayed a moment longer they\nwould have stiffened into stone; but when she had spoken thus, she rose\nand left the hall, and the sighing winds went out with her.\n\nThen, after a long silence, Bragi stood up and spoke. \u201c\u00c6sir,\u201d he said,\n\u201cwe are to blame. It is now many months since Iduna was carried away from\nus; we have mourned for her, but we have not yet avenged her loss. Since\nshe left us a strange weariness and despair have come over us, and we sit\nlooking on each other as if we had ceased to be warriors and \u00c6sir. It is\nplain that, unless Iduna returns, we are lost. Let two of us journey to\nthe Urda fount, which we have so long neglected to visit, and enquire of\nher from the Norns\u2014for they know all things\u2014and then, when we have learnt\nwhere she is, we will fight for her liberty, if need be, till we die; for\nthat will be an end more fitting for us than to sit here and wither away\nunder the breath of Hela.\u201d\n\nAt these words of Bragi the \u00c6sir felt a revival of their old strength\nand courage. Odin approved of Bragi\u2019s proposal, and decreed that he and\nBaldur should undertake the journey to the dwelling-place of the Norns.\nThat very evening they set forth; for Hela\u2019s visit showed them that they\nhad no time to lose.\n\nIt was a weary time to the dwellers in Asgard while they were absent.\nTwo new citizens had taken up their abode in the city, Age and Pain.\nThey walked the streets hand-in-hand, and there was no use in shutting\nthe doors against them; for however closely the entrance was barred, the\ndwellers in the houses felt them as they passed.\n\n\nIV. THROUGH FLOOD AND FIRE\n\nAt length, Baldur and Bragi returned with the answer of the Norns,\ncouched in mystic words, which Odin alone could understand. It revealed\nLoki\u2019s treacherous conduct to the \u00c6sir, and declared that Iduna could\nonly be brought back by Loki, who must go in search of her, clothed in\nFreya\u2019s garments of falcon feathers.\n\nLoki was very unwilling to venture on such a search; but Thor threatened\nhim with instant death if he refused to obey Odin\u2019s commands, or failed\nto bring back Iduna; and, for his own safety he was obliged to allow\nFreya to fasten the falcon wings to his shoulders, and set off towards\nThiassi\u2019s castle in J\u00f6tunheim, where he well knew that Iduna was\nimprisoned.\n\nIt was called a castle; but it was, in reality, a hollow in a dark rock;\nthe sea broke against two sides of it; and, above, the sea-birds clamored\nday and night.\n\nThere the giant had taken Iduna on the night on which she had left her\ngrove; and, fearing lest Odin should spy her from Air Throne, he had\nshut her up in a gloomy chamber, and strictly forbidden her ever to come\nout. It was hard to be shut up from the fresh air and sunshine; and yet,\nperhaps, it was safer for Iduna than if she had been allowed to wander\nabout J\u00f6tunheim and see the monstrous sights that would have met her\nthere.\n\nShe saw nothing but Thiassi himself and his servants, whom he had\ncommanded to attend upon her; and they, being curious to see a stranger\nfrom a distant land, came in and out many times every day.\n\nThey were fair, Iduna saw\u2014fair and smiling; and, at first, it relieved\nher to see such pleasant faces round her, when she had expected something\nhorrible.\n\n\u201cPity me!\u201d she used to say to them; \u201cpity me! I have been torn away from\nmy home and my husband, and I see no hope of ever getting back.\u201d And she\nlooked earnestly at them; but their pleasant faces never changed, and\nthere was always\u2014however bitterly Iduna might be weeping\u2014the same smile\non their lips.\n\nAt length Iduna, looking more narrowly at them, saw, when they turned\ntheir backs to her, that they were hollow behind; they were, in truth,\nEllewomen, who have no hearts, and can never pity any one.\n\nAfter Iduna saw this she looked no more at their smiling faces, but\nturned away her head and wept silently. It is very sad to live among\nEllewomen when one is in trouble.\n\nEvery day the giant came and thundered at Iduna\u2019s door. \u201cHave you made\nup your mind yet,\u201d he used to say, \u201cto give me the apples? Something\ndreadful will happen to you if you take much longer to think of it.\u201d\nIduna trembled very much every day, but still she had strength to say,\n\u201cNo;\u201d for she knew that the _most_ dreadful thing would be for her to\ngive to a wicked giant the gifts that had been entrusted to her for the\nuse of the \u00c6sir. The giant would have taken the apples by force if he\ncould; but, whenever he put his hand into the casket, the fruit slipped\nfrom beneath his fingers, shrivelled into the size of a pea, and hid\nitself in crevices of the casket where his great fingers could not\ncome\u2014only when Iduna\u2019s little white hand touched it, it swelled again\nto its own size, and this she would never do while the giant was with\nher. So the days passed on, and Iduna would have died of grief among the\nsmiling Ellewomen if it had not been for the moaning sound of the sea and\nthe wild cry of the birds; \u201cfor, however others may smile, these pity\nme,\u201d she used to say, and it was like music to her.\n\nOne morning when she knew that the giant had gone out, and when the\nEllewomen had left her alone, she stood for a long time at her window\nby the sea, watching the mermaids floating up and down on the waves,\nand looking at heaven with their sad blue eyes. She knew that they were\nmourning because they had no souls, and she thought within herself that\neven in prison it was better to belong to the \u00c6sir than to be a mermaid\nor an Ellewoman, were they ever so free or happy.\n\nWhile she was still occupied with these thoughts she heard her name\nspoken, and a bird with large wings flew in at the window, and,\nsmoothing its feathers, stood upright before her. It was Loki in Freya\u2019s\ngarment of feathers, and he made her understand in a moment that he had\ncome to set her free, and that there was no time to lose. He told her to\nconceal her casket carefully in her bosom, and then he said a few words\nover her, and she found herself changed into a sparrow, with the casket\nfastened among the feathers of her breast.\n\nThen Loki spread his wings once more, and flew out of the window, and\nIduna followed him. The sea-wind blew cold and rough, and her little\nwings fluttered with fear; but she struck them bravely out into the air\nand flew like an arrow over the water.\n\n\u201cThis way lies Asgard,\u201d cried Loki, and the word gave her strength. But\nthey had not gone far when a sound was heard above the sea, and the wind,\nand the call of the sea-birds. Thiassi had put on his eagle plumage, and\nwas flying after them. For five days and five nights the three flew over\nthe water that divides J\u00f6tunheim from Asgard, and, at the end of every\nday, they were closer together, for the giant was gaining on the other\ntwo.\n\nAll the five days the dwellers in Asgard stood on the walls of the city\nwatching. On the sixth evening they saw a falcon and a sparrow, closely\npursued by an eagle, flying towards Asgard.\n\n\u201cThere will not be time,\u201d said Bragi, who had been calculating the speed\nat which they flew. \u201cThe eagle will reach them before they can get into\nthe city.\u201d\n\nBut Odin desired a fire to be lighted upon the walls; and Thor and Tyr,\nwith what strength remained to them, tore up the trees from the groves\nand gardens, and made a rampart of fire all round the city. The light of\nthe fire showed Iduna, her husband and her friends waiting for her. She\nmade one last effort, and, rising high up in the air above the flames\nand smoke, she passed the walls, and dropped down safely at the foot of\nOdin\u2019s throne. The giant tried to follow; but, wearied with his long\nflight, he was unable to raise his enormous bulk sufficiently high in the\nair. The flames scorched his wings as he flew through them, and he fell\namong the flaming piles of wood and was burnt to death.\n\nHow Iduna feasted the \u00c6sir on her apples, how they grew young and\nbeautiful again, and how spring, and green leaves, and music came back\nto the grove, I must leave you to imagine, for I have made my story long\nenough already; and if I say any more you will fancy that it is Bragi who\nhas come among you, and that he has entered on his endless story.\n\n\n\n\nHOW THE FENRIS WOLF WAS CHAINED\n\nBy E. M. Wilmot-Buxton\n\n\nFair as were the meads of Asgard, we have seen that the Asa folk were\nfond of wandering far afield in other regions. Most restless of all\nwas Red Loki, that cunning fellow who was always bringing trouble upon\nhimself or upon his kindred. And because he loved evil, he would often\nbetake himself to the gloomy halls of Giantland and mingle with the\nwicked folk of that region.\n\nNow one day he met a hideous giantess named Angur-Boda. This creature\nhad a heart of ice, and because he loved ugliness and evil she had a\ngreat attraction for him, and in the end he married her, and they lived\ntogether in a horrible cave in Giantland.\n\nThree children were born to Loki and Angur-Boda in this dread abode, and\nthey were even more terrible in appearance than their mother. The first\nwas an immense wolf called Fenris, with a huge mouth filled with long\nwhite teeth, which he was constantly gnashing together.\n\nThe second was a wicked-looking serpent with a fiery-red tongue lolling\nfrom its mouth.\n\nThe third was a hideous giantess, partly blue and partly flesh-color,\nwhose name was Hela.\n\nNo sooner were these three terrible children born than all the wise men\nof the earth began to foretell the misery they would bring upon the Asa\nfolk.\n\nIn vain did Loki try to keep them hidden within the cave wherein their\nmother dwelt. They soon grew so immense in size that no dwelling would\ncontain them, and all the world began to talk of their frightful\nappearance.\n\nIt was not long, of course, before All-Father Odin, from his high seat in\nAsgard, heard of the children of Loki. So he sent for some of the Asas,\nand said:\n\n\u201cMuch evil will come upon us, O my children, from this giant brood, if\nwe defend not ourselves against them. For their mother will teach them\nwickedness, and still more quickly will they learn the cunning wiles of\ntheir father. Fetch me them here, therefore, that I may deal with them\nforthwith.\u201d\n\nSo, after somewhat of a struggle, the Asas captured the three\ngiant-children and brought them before Odin\u2019s judgment-seat.\n\nThen Odin looked first at Hela, and when he saw her gloomy eyes, full of\nmisery and despair, he was sorry and dealt kindly with her, saying: \u201cThou\nart the bringer of Pain to man, and Asgard is no place for such as thou.\nBut I will make thee ruler of the Mist Home, and there shalt thou rule\nover that unlighted world, the Region of the Dead.\u201d\n\nForthwith he sent her away over rough roads to the cold, dark region of\nthe North called the Mist Home. And there did Hela rule over a grim crew,\nfor all those who had done wickedness in the world above were imprisoned\nby her in those gloomy regions. To her came also all those who had died,\nnot on the battlefield, but of old age or disease. And though these were\ntreated kindly enough, theirs was a joyless life in comparison with that\nof the dead warriors who were feasting and fighting in the halls of\nValhalla, under the kindly rule of All-Father Odin.\n\nHaving thus disposed of Hela, Odin next turned his attention to the\nserpent. And when he saw his evil tongue and cunning, wicked eyes, he\nsaid:\n\n\u201cThou art he who bringest Sin into the world of men; therefore the ocean\nshall be thy home for ever.\u201d\n\nThen he threw that horrid serpent into the deep sea which surrounds all\nlands, and there the creature grew so fast that when he stretched himself\none day he encircled all the earth, and held his own tail fast in his\nmouth. And sometimes he grew angry to think that he, the son of a god,\nhad thus been cast out; and at those times he would writhe with his huge\nbody and lash his tail till the sea spouted up to the sky. And when that\nhappened the men of the North said that a great tempest was raging. But\nit was only the Serpent-son of Loki writhing in his wrath.\n\nThen Odin turned to the third child. And behold! the Fenris Wolf was so\nappalling to look upon that Odin feared to cast him forth, and he decided\nto endeavor to tame him by kindness so that he should not wish them ill.\n\nBut when he bade them carry food to the Fenris Wolf, not one of the Asas\nwould do so, for they feared a snap from his great jaws. Only the brave\nTyr had courage enough to feed him, and the wolf ate so much and so fast\nthat the business took him all his time. Meantime, too, the Fenris grew\nso rapidly, and became so fierce, that the gods were compelled to take\ncounsel and consider how they should get rid of him. They remembered that\nit would make their peaceful halls unholy if they were to slay him, and\nso they resolved instead to bind him fast, that he should be unable to do\nthem harm.\n\nSo those of the Asa folk who were clever smiths set to work and made a\nvery strong, thick chain; and when it was finished they carried it out\nto the yard where the wolf dwelt, and said to him, as though in jest:\n\n\u201cHere is a fine proof of thy boasted strength, O Fenris. Let us bind this\nabout thee, that we may see if thou canst break it asunder.\u201d\n\nThen the wolf gave a great grin with his wide jaws, and came and stood\nstill that they might bind the chain about him; for he knew what he could\ndo. And it came to pass that directly they had fastened the chain, and\nhad slipped aside from him, the great beast gave himself a shake, and the\nchain fell about him in little bits.\n\nAt this the Asas were much annoyed, but they tried not to show it, and\npraised him for his strength.\n\nThen they set to work again upon a chain much stronger than the last, and\nbrought it to the Fenris Wolf, saying:\n\n\u201cGreat will be thy renown, O Fenris, if thou canst break this chain as\nthou didst the last.\u201d\n\nBut the wolf looked at them askance, for the chain they brought was very\nmuch thicker than the one he had already broken. He reflected, however,\nthat since that time he himself had grown stronger and bigger, and\nmoreover, that one must risk something in order to win renown.\n\nSo he let them put the chain upon him, and when the Asas said that all\nwas ready, he gave a good shake and stretched himself a few times, and\nagain the fetters lay in fragments on the ground.\n\nThen the gods began to fear that they would never hold the wolf in bonds;\nand it was All-Father Odin who persuaded them to make one more attempt.\n\nSo they sent a messenger to Dwarfland bidding him ask the Little Men to\nmake a chain which nothing could possibly destroy.\n\nSetting at once to work, the clever little smiths soon fashioned a\nslender silken rope, and gave it to the messenger, saying that no\nstrength could break it, and that the more it was strained the stronger\nit would become.\n\nIt was made of the most mysterious things\u2014the sound of a cat\u2019s footsteps,\nthe roots of a mountain, the sinews of a bear, the breath of fishes, and\nother such strange materials, which only the dwarfs knew how to use.\n\nWith this chain the messenger hastened back over the Rainbow Bridge to\nAsgard.\n\nBy this time the Fenris Wolf had grown too big for his yard, so he lived\non a rocky island in the middle of the lake that lies in the midst of\nAsgard.\n\nAnd here the Asas now betook themselves with their chain, and began to\nplay their part with wily words.\n\n\u201cSee,\u201d they cried, \u201cO Fenris! Here is a cord so soft and thin that none\nwould think of it binding such strength as thine.\u201d\n\nAnd they laughed great laughs, and handed it to one another, and tried\nits strength by pulling at it with all their might, but it did not break.\n\nThen they came nearer and used more wiles, saying:\n\n\u201c_We_ cannot break the cord, though \u2019tis stronger than it looks, but\nthou, O mighty one, will be able to snap it in a moment.\u201d\n\nBut the wolf tossed his head in scorn, and said:\n\n\u201cSmall renown would there be to me, O Asa folk, if I were to break yon\nslender string. Save, therefore, your breath, and leave me now alone.\u201d\n\n\u201cAha!\u201d cried the Asas. \u201cThou fearest the might of the silken cord, thou\nfalse one, and that is why thou wilt not let us bind thee!\u201d\n\n\u201cNot I,\u201d said the Fenris Wolf, growing rather suspicious, \u201cbut if it is\nmade with craft and guile it shall never come near my feet.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut,\u201d said the Asas, \u201cthou wilt surely be able to break this silken cord\nwith ease, since thou hast already broken the great iron fetters.\u201d\n\nTo this the wolf made no answer, pretending not to hear.\n\n\u201cCome!\u201d said the Asas again, \u201cwhy shouldst thou fear? For even if thou\ncouldst not break the cord we would immediately let thee free again. To\nrefuse is a coward\u2019s piece of work.\u201d\n\nThen the wolf gnashed his teeth at them in anger, and said:\n\n\u201cWell I know you Asas! For if you bind me so fast that I cannot get loose\nyou will skulk away, and it will be long before I get any help from you;\nand therefore am I loath to let this band be laid upon me.\u201d\n\nBut still the Asas continued to persuade him and to twit him with\ncowardice, until at length the Fenris Wolf said, with a sullen growl:\n\n\u201cHave it your own way then. But, as a pledge that this is done without\ndeceit, let one of you lay his hand in my mouth while you are binding\nme, and afterwards while I try to break the bonds.\u201d\n\nThen the Asa folk looked at one another in dismay, for they knew very\nwell what this would mean.\n\nAnd while they consulted together the wolf stood gnashing his teeth at\nthem with a horrid grin.\n\nAt length Tyr the Brave hesitated no longer. Boldly he stalked up to the\nwolf and thrust his arm into his enormous mouth, bidding the Asas bind\nfast the beast. Scarce had they done so when the wolf began to strain and\npull, but the more he did so the tighter and stiffer the rope became.\n\nThe gods shouted and laughed with glee when they saw how all his efforts\nwere in vain. But Tyr did not join in their mirth, for the wolf in his\nrage snapped his great teeth together and bit off his hand at the wrist.\n\nNow when the Asas discovered that the animal was fast bound, they took\nthe chain which was fixed to the rope and drew it through a huge rock,\nand fastened this rock deep down in the earth, so that it could never\nbe moved. And this they fastened to another great rock which was driven\nstill deeper into the ground.\n\nWhen the Fenris Wolf found that he had been thus secured he opened his\nmouth terribly wide, and twisted himself right and left, and tried his\nbest to bite the Asa folk. He uttered, moreover, such terrible howls that\nat length the gods could bear it no longer. So they took a sword and\nthrust it into his mouth, so that the hilt rested on his lower, and the\npoint against his upper, jaw. And there he was doomed to remain until\nthe End of All Things shall come, when he\n\n \u201cFreed from the Chain\n Shall range the Earth.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF BALDER THE BEAUTIFUL\n\nBy E. M. Wilmot-Buxton\n\n\nFair beyond all the sons of Odin was Balder the Beautiful, Balder of the\nsnow-white brow and golden locks, and he was well beloved not only by the\nAsa folk, but also by the men of the earth below.\n\n \u201cOf all the twelve round Odin\u2019s throne,\n Balder the Beautiful, alone,\n The Sun god, good and pure and bright,\n Was loved by all, as all love light.\u201d\n\nBalder had a twin-brother named Hoder, who was born blind. Gloomy and\nsilent was he, but none the less he loved his bright sun-brother best of\nall in heaven or earth.\n\nThe home of Balder was a place with silver roof and pillars of gold, and\nnothing unclean or impure was allowed to come inside its doors.\n\nVery wise in all magic charms was this radiant young god; and for all\nothers save himself he could read the future; but \u201cto keep his own life\nsafe and see the sun\u201d was not granted to him.\n\nNow there came a time when Balder\u2019s bright face grew sad and downcast;\nand when his father Odin and his mother Frigga perceived this they\nimplored him to tell them the cause of his grief. Then Balder told them\nthat he had been troubled by strange dreams; and, since in those days men\nbelieved that dreams were sent as a warning of what was about to happen,\nhe had gone heavily since these visions had come to him.\n\nFirst he had dreamt that a dark cloud had arisen which came before the\nsun and shut out all brightness from the land.\n\nThe next night he dreamt again that Asgard lay in darkness, and that her\nbright flowers and radiant trees were withered and lifeless, and that\nthe Asa folk, dull and withered also, were sorrowing as though from some\ngreat calamity.\n\nThe third night he dreamt yet again that Asgard was dark and lifeless and\nthat from out of the gloom one sad voice cried:\n\n\u201cWoe! Woe! Woe! For Balder the Beautiful is dead\u2014is dead!\u201d\n\nOdin listened to the recital of this story with heavy heart, and at its\nconclusion he mounted his coal-black horse and rode over many a hard and\ntoilsome road till he came to the dark abode of Hela. And there he saw to\nhis surprise, that a great banquet was being prepared in the gloomy hall.\nDishes of gold were set upon the table and all the couches were covered\nwith the richest silken tapestry, as though some honored guest were\nexpected. But a throne that stood at the head of the table was empty.\n\nVery thoughtfully Odin rode on through those dim halls till he came to\none where dwelt an ancient prophetess, whose voice no man had heard for\nmany a long year.\n\nSilent he stood before her, until she asked in a voice that sounded as\nthough it came from far away: \u201cWho art thou, and from whence dost thou\ncome to trouble my long rest?\u201d\n\nNow Odin was fearful that she would not answer him did he give his real\nname, so he told her that he was the son of Valtam, and asked anxiously\nfor whom the grim goddess of Death was preparing her banquet.\n\nThen, to his great grief, the hollow voice of the prophetess replied that\nBalder was the expected guest, and that he would shortly be sent thither,\nslain by the hand of Hoder, the blind god of Darkness.\n\n\u201cWho then,\u201d asked Odin, in sorrowful tones, \u201cshall avenge the death of\nBalder?\u201d\n\nAnd she answered that the son of the Earth-goddess, Vali by name, should\nneither\n\n \u201cComb his raven hair\n Nor wash his visage in the stream,\n Nor see the sun\u2019s departing beam,\n Till he on Hoder\u2019s corse shall smile\n Flaming on the funeral pile.\u201d\n\nAnd learning thus of the fate of his two favorite sons, All-Father Odin\nwent sadly back to Asgard.\n\nMeantime Mother Frigga had not been idle. Filled with anxiety for her\ndarling son, she decided to send her servants throughout the earth,\nbidding them exact a promise from all things\u2014not only living creatures,\nbut plants, stones, and metals, fire, water, trees and diseases of all\nkinds\u2014that they would do harm in no way to Balder the Beautiful.\n\nTheirs was an easy task, for all things loved the bright Sun-god, and\nreadily agreed to give the pledge. Nothing was overlooked save only\nthe mistletoe, growing upon the oak-tree that shaded the entrance to\nValhalla. It seemed so insignificant that no one thought it worth while\nto ask this plant to take the oath.\n\nThe servants returned to Frigga with all the vows and compacts that had\nbeen made; and the Mother of Gods and Men went back with heart at ease to\nher spinning-wheel.\n\nThe Asa folk, too, were reassured, and, casting aside the burden of care\nthat had fallen upon them, they resumed their favorite game upon the\nplains of Idavold, where they were wont to contend with one another in\nthe throwing of golden disks.\n\nAnd when it became known among them that nothing would hurt Balder the\nBeautiful they invented a new game.\n\nPlacing the young Sun-god in their midst, they would throw stones at him,\nor thrust at him with their knives, or strike with their wooden staves;\nand the wood or the knife or the stone would glance off from Balder and\nleave him quite unhurt.\n\nThis new game delighted both Balder and the Asa folk, and so loud was\ntheir laughter that Loki, who was some distance away pursuing one of his\nschemes in the disguise of an old woman, shook with rage at the sound.\nFor Loki was jealous of Balder and, as is usual with people who make\nthemselves disliked, nothing gave him such displeasure as to see a group\nof the Asas on such happy terms with each other.\n\nPresently, in his wanderings, Loki passed by the house of Fensalir, in\nthe doorway of which sat Frigga, at her spinning-wheel. She did not\nrecognize Red Loki, but greeted him kindly and asked:\n\n\u201cOld woman, dost thou know why the gods are so merry this evening?\u201d\n\nAnd Loki answered: \u201cThey are casting stones and throwing sharp knives and\ngreat clubs at Balder the Beautiful, who stands smiling in their midst,\ndaring them to hurt him.\u201d\n\nThen Frigga smiled tranquilly and turned again to her wheel, saying:\n\n\u201cLet them play on, for no harm will come to him whom all things in heaven\nand earth have sworn not to hurt.\u201d\n\n\u201cArt thou sure, good mother, that _all_ things in heaven and earth have\ntaken this vow?\u201d\n\n\u201cAy, indeed,\u201d replied Frigga, \u201call save a harmless little plant, the\nmistletoe, which grows on the oak by Valhalla, and this is far too small\nand weak to be feared.\u201d\n\nAnd to this Loki replied in musing voice, nodding his head as he spoke:\n\u201cYea, thou art right, great Mother of Gods and Men.\u201d\n\nBut the wicked Asa had learnt what he desired to know. The instrument by\nwhich he might bring harm to Balder the Beautiful was now awaiting him,\nand he determined to use it, to the dire sorrow of Asgard.\n\nHastening to the western gate of Valhalla, he pulled a clump of the\nmistletoe from the oak, and fashioned therefrom a little wand, or stick,\nand with this in his hand he returned to the plain of Idavold. He was far\ntoo cunning, however, to attempt to carry out his wicked design himself.\nHis malicious heart was too well known to the Asa folk. But he soon found\nan innocent tool. Leaning against a tree, and taking no part in the game,\nwas Hoder, the blind god, the twin brother of Balder, and to him he began:\n\n\u201cHark to the Asas\u2014how they laugh! Do you take no share in the game, good\nHoder?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot I,\u201d said Hoder gloomily, \u201cfor I am blind, and know not where to\nthrow.\u201d\n\n\u201cI could show you that,\u201d said Loki, assuming a pleasant tone; \u201c\u2019tis no\nhard matter, Hoder, and methinks the Asas will call you proud and haughty\nif you take no share in the fun.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut I have nothing to throw,\u201d said poor blind Hoder.\n\nThen Loki said: \u201cHere, at least, is a small shaft, \u2019twill serve your\npurpose,\u201d and leading innocent Hoder into the ring he cunningly guided\nhis aim. Hoder, well pleased to be able to share in a game with his\nbeloved brother, boldly sped the shaft, expecting to hear the usual shout\nof joyous laughter which greeted all such attempts. There fell instead\ndead silence on his ear, and immediately on this followed a wail of\nbitter agony. For Balder the Beautiful had fallen dead without a groan,\nhis heart transfixed by the little dart of mistletoe.\n\n \u201cSo on the floor lay Balder dead; and round\n Lay thickly strewn swords, axes, darts, and spears,\n Which all the Gods in sport had idly thrown\n At Balder, whom no weapon pierced or clove;\n But in his breast stood fixed the fatal bough\n Of mistletoe, which Loki the Accuser gave\n To Hoder, and unwitting Hoder threw\u2014\n \u2019Gainst that alone had Balder\u2019s life no charm.\u201d\n\nDreading he knew not what, Hoder stood in doubt for some moments. But\nsoon the meaning of that bitter wail was borne in upon him, piercing the\ncloud of darkness in which he always moved. He opened wide his arms as\nthough to clasp the beloved form, and then with: \u201cI have slain thee, my\nbrother,\u201d despair seized him and he fell prostrate in utter grief.\n\nMeantime, the Asa folk crowded round the silent form of Balder,\nweeping and wailing; but, alas! their moans and tears could not bring\nBalder back. At length, All-Father Odin, whose grief was too deep for\nlamentations, bade them be silent and prepare to bear the body of the\ndead Asa to the seashore.\n\nThe unhappy Hoder, unable to take part in these last offices, made his\nway sadly through Asgard, beyond the walls and along the seashore, until\nhe came to the house Fensalir.\n\nFrigga was seated upon her seat of honor before the fire against the\ninner wall, and standing before her, with bent head and woeful, sightless\ngaze, Hoder told her of the dread mishap that had befallen.\n\n\u201cTell me, O mother,\u201d he cried in ending, and his voice sounded like the\nwail of the wind on stormy nights, \u201cTell me, is there aught I can do to\nbring my brother back? Or can I make agreement with the dread mother of\nthe Underworld, giving my life in exchange for his?\u201d\n\nWoe crowded upon woe in the heart of Frigga as she listened to the story.\nThe doom was wrought that she had tried so vainly to avert, and not even\nher mother\u2019s love had availed to safeguard the son so dearly cherished.\n\n\u201cOn Balder Death hath laid her hand, not thee, my son,\u201d she said, \u201cyet\nthough we fail in the end, there is much that may be tried before all\nhope is lost.\u201d\n\nThen she told Hoder of a road by which the abode of Hela could be\nreached, one which had been travelled by none living save Odin himself.\n\n \u201cWho goes that way must take no other horse\n To ride, but Sleipnir, Odin\u2019s horse, alone.\n Nor must he choose that common path of gods\n Which every day they come and go in heaven,\n O\u2019er the bridge Bifrost, where is Heimdall\u2019s watch.\n\n \u201cBut he must tread a dark untravelled road\n Which branches from the north of heaven, and ride\n Nine days, nine nights, toward the northern ice,\n Through valleys deep engulfed, with roaring streams.\n And he will reach on the tenth morn a bridge\n Which spans with golden arches Gi\u00f6ll\u2019s stream.\n Then he will journey through no lighted land,\n Nor see the sun arise, nor see it set;\n\n \u201cAnd he must fare across the dismal ice\n Northward, until he meets a stretching wall\n Barring his way, and in the wall a grate,\n But then he must dismount and on the ice,\n Tighten the girths of Sleipnir, Odin\u2019s horse,\n And make him leap the grate, and come within.\u201d\n\nThere in that cheerless abode dead Balder was enthroned, but, said\nFrigga, he who braves that dread journey must take no heed of him, nor of\nthe sad ghosts flitting to and fro, like eddying leaves. First he must\naccost their gloomy queen and entreat her with prayers:\n\n \u201cTelling her all that grief they have in heaven\n For Balder, whom she holds by right below.\u201d\n\nA bitter groan of anguish escaped from Hoder when Frigga had finished her\nrecital of the trials which must be undergone:\n\n \u201cMother, a dreadful way is this thou showest;\n No journey for a sightless god to go.\u201d\n\nAnd she replied:\n\n \u201c\u2026 Thyself thou shalt not go, my son;\n But he whom first thou meetest when thou com\u2019st\n To Asgard and declar\u2019st this hidden way,\n Shall go; and I will be his guide unseen.\u201d\n\nMeantime the Asa folk had felled trees and had carried to the seashore\noutside the walls of Asgard a great pile of fuel, which they laid upon\nthe deck of Balder\u2019s great ship, _Ringhorn_, as it lay stranded high upon\nthe beach.\n\n \u201cSeventy ells and four extended\n On the grass the vessel\u2019s keel;\n High above it, gilt and splendid,\n Rose the figurehead ferocious\n With its crest of steel.\u201d\n\nThen they adorned the funeral pyre with garlands of flowers, with golden\nvessels and rings, with finely wrought weapons and rich necklets and\narmlets; and when this was done they carried out the fair body of Balder\nthe Beautiful, and bearing it reverently upon their shields they laid it\nupon the pyre.\n\nThen they tried to launch the good ship, but so heavily laden was she\nthat they could not stir her an inch.\n\nThe Mountain-Giants, from their heights afar, had watched the tragedy\nwith eyes that were not unpitying, for even they had no ill-will for\nBalder and they sent and told of a giantess called Hyrroken, who was so\nstrong that she could launch any vessel whatever its weight might be.\n\nSo the Asas sent to fetch her from Giantland, and she soon came, riding a\nwolf for steed and twisted serpents for reins.\n\nWhen she alighted, Odin ordered four of his mightiest warriors to hold\nthe wolf, but he was so strong that they could do nothing until the\ngiantess had thrown him down and bound him fast.\n\nThen with a few enormous strides, Hyrroken reached the great vessel, and\nset her shoulder against the prow, sending the ship rolling into the\ndeep.\n\nThe earth shook with the force of the movement as though with an\nearthquake, and the Asa folk collided with one another like pine-trees\nduring a storm. The ship, too, with its precious weight, was well-nigh\nlost. At this Thor was wroth and, seizing his hammer, would have slain\nthe giantess had not the other Asas held him back, bidding him not forget\nthe last duty to the dead god. So Thor hallowed the pyre with a touch of\nhis sacred hammer and kindled it with a thorn twig, which is the emblem\nof sleep.\n\nLast of all, before the pyre blazed up, All-Father Odin added to the pile\nof offerings his magic ring, from which fell eight new rings every ninth\nnight, and bending he whispered in Balder\u2019s ear.\n\nBut none to this day know the words that Odin spake thus in the ear of\nhis dead son.\n\nThen the flames from the pyre rose high and the great ship drifted out to\nsea, and the wind caught the sails and fanned the flames till it seemed\nas though sky and sea were wrapped in golden flame.\n\n \u201cAnd while they gazed, the sun went lurid down\n Into the smoke-wrapt sea, and night came on.\n But through the dark they watched the burning ship\n Still carried o\u2019er the distant waters.\u2026\n But fainter, as the stars rose high, it flared;\n And as, in a decaying winter fire,\n A charr\u2019d log, falling, makes a shower of sparks\u2014\n So, with a shower of sparks, the pile fell in,\n Reddening the sea around; and all was dark.\u201d\n\nAnd thus did Balder the Beautiful pass from the peaceful steads of\nAsgard, as passes the sun when he paints the evening clouds with the\nglory of his setting.\n\n _Note._\u2014Most of the poetical extracts throughout this chapter\n are taken from Matthew Arnold\u2019s \u201cBalder Dead.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nTHE WONDERFUL QUERN STONES\n\nBy Julia Goddard\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a king of Denmark, or Gotland, as it was then\ncalled, whose name was Frothi. He was a great-grandson of the god Thor,\nand a very mighty king, and wherever the Danish language was spoken there\nwas Frothi\u2019s name honored and respected.\n\nAmong his treasures were two quern stones; nothing much to look at,\nsimply two common millstones in appearance, and no one who did not know\nwhat they could do would think of taking any notice of them. Nevertheless\nthese quern stones were of more worth than anything that King Frothi\nhad, for they could produce anything that the grinder of the quern or\nhand-mill wished for. They would bring gold, silver, precious stones,\nanything and everything; and besides this they could grind love, joy,\npeace; therefore it is not too much to say that these stones were worth\nmore than all the treasures of the king put together.\n\nAt least they would have been if he could have made use of them, but they\nwere so heavy that few could be found to turn the quern, and just at\nthe time of which I am speaking there was no one at all in the land of\nGotland able to work away at the quern handle.\n\nNow the more King Frothi pondered over his wonderful quern stones, the\ngreater became his desire to use them, and he sought throughout the\nland from north to south, from east to west, if perchance he might find\nsomeone strong enough to help him in his need. But all to no purpose, and\nhe was utterly in despair when, by good luck he happened to go on a visit\nto Fi\u00f6lnir, King of Sweden, and to hear of two slave-women of great size\nand strength. Surely, thought Frothi, these are just the women to grind\nat my quern Grotti (for so it was called), and he asked King Fi\u00f6lnir to\nbe allowed to see them.\n\nSo King Fi\u00f6lnir ordered the slaves to be brought before Frothi, and when\nFrothi saw them his spirits rose, for certainly Menia and Fenia were\nstrong-looking women. They were eight feet in height, and broader across\nthe shoulders than any of Frothi\u2019s warriors, and the muscles of their\narms stood out like cords. And they lifted heavy weights, threw heavy\njavelins, and did so many feats of strength that Frothi felt quite sure\nthat they would be able to turn the quern handle.\n\n\u201cI will buy these slaves,\u201d said he, \u201cand take them with me to Gotland.\u201d\n\nMenia and Fenia stood with their arms folded and their proud heads bowed\ndown, while Frothi counted out the gold to the seller. They were slaves;\nwith money had they been bought, with money were they sold again. What\ncared Frothi who was their father, or how they had come into the land of\nSweden?\n\nAnd he took them home with him and bade them grind at the quern. Now he\nshould be able to test the power of the wonderful stones.\n\n\u201cGrind, grind, Menia and Fenia, let me see whether you have strength for\nthe work.\u201d\n\nSo spake the King Frothi, and the huge women lifted the heavy stones as\nthough they had been pebbles.\n\n\u201cWhat shall we grind?\u201d asked the slaves.\n\n\u201cGold, gold, peace and wealth for Frothi.\u201d\n\nGold! gold! the land was filled with riches. Treasure in the king\u2019s\npalace, treasure in the coffers of his subjects\u2014gold! gold! There were\nno poor in the land, no beggars in the streets, no children crying for\nbread. All honor to the quern stones!\n\nPeace! peace! no more war in the land. Frothi is at peace with everyone.\nAnd more than that, there was peace in all countries where Frothi\u2019s name\nwas known, even to the far south; and everyone talked of Frothi\u2019s peace.\nPraise be to the quern stones! Wealth! yes, everything went well. Not\none of the counsels of King Frothi failed. There was not a green field\nthat did not yield a rich crop; not a tree but bent beneath its weight\nof fruit; not a stream that ran dry; not a vessel that sailed from the\nharbors of Gotland that came not back, after a fair voyage, in safety to\nits haven. There was good luck everywhere.\n\n\u201cGrind on, grind on, Menia and Fenia! good fortune is mine,\u201d said King\nFrothi.\n\nAnd the slaves ground on.\n\n\u201cWhen shall we rest, when may we rest, King Frothi? It is weary work\ntoiling day and night.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo longer than whilst the cuckoo is silent in the spring.\u201d\n\n\u201cNever ceasing is the cry of the cuckoo in the groves; may we not rest\nlonger?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot longer,\u201d answered King Frothi, \u201cthan whilst the verse of a song is\nsung.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is but little!\u201d sighed Menia and Fenia, and they toiled on. Their\narms were weary and their eyes heavy; they would fain have slept, but\nFrothi would not let them have any sleep. They were but slaves who must\nobey their master, so they toiled on, still grinding peace and wealth to\nFrothi:\n\n \u201cTo Frothi and his queen\n Joy and peace\u2014\n May plenty in the land\n Still increase.\n Frothi and his queen\n From dangers keep;\n May they on beds of down\n Sweetly sleep.\n No sword be drawn\n In Gotland old,\n By murderer bold.\n No harm befall\n The high or low\u2014\n To none be woe,\n Good luck to all,\n Good luck to all.\n We grind, we grind,\n No rest we find,\n For rest we call.\u201d\n\nThus sang the two giant women; then they begged again: \u201cGive us rest, O\nFrothi!\u201d\n\nBut still Frothi answered: \u201cRest whilst the verse of a song is sung, or\nas long as the cuckoo is silent in the spring.\u201d\n\nNo longer would the king give them.\n\nYet Frothi was deemed a good king, but gold and good luck were hardening\nhis heart.\n\nMenia and Fenia went on grinding, and their wrath grew deeper and deeper,\nand thus at last they spoke.\n\nFirst said Fenia: \u201cThou wert not wise, O Frothi. Thou didst buy us\nbecause like giants we towered above the other slaves, because we were\nstrong and hardy and could lift heavy burdens.\u201d\n\nAnd Menia took up the wail: \u201cAre we not of the race of the mountain\ngiants? Are not our kindred greater than thine, O Frothi? The quern had\nnever left the gray fell but for the giants\u2019 daughters. Never, never\nshould we have ground as we have done had it not been that we remembered\nfrom what race we sprang.\u201d\n\nThen answered Menia: \u201cNine long winters saw us training to feats of\nstrength, nine long winters of wearisome labor. Deep down in the earth\nwe toiled and toiled until we could move the high mountain from its\nfoundations. We are weird women, O Frothi. We can see far into the\nfuture. Our eyes have looked upon the quern before. In the giants\u2019 house\nwe whirled it until the earth shook, and hoarse thunder resounded through\nthe caverns. Thou art not wise, O Frothi! O Frothi; thou art not wise!\u201d\n\nBut Frothi heard them not; he was sleeping the sweet sleep that the quern\nstones had ground for him.\n\n\u201cStrong are we indeed,\u201d laughed Fenia sorrowfully, \u201cstrong to contend\nwith the puny men\u2014we whose pastime in Sweden was to tame the fiercest\nbears, so that they ate from our hands; we who fought with mighty\nwarriors and came off conquerors; we who helped one prince and put down\nanother. Well we fought, and many were the wounds we received from sharp\nspears and flashing swords. Frothi knows not our power or he would\nscarce have brought us to his palace to treat us thus. Here no one has\ncompassion upon us. Cold are the skies above us, and the pitiless wind\nbeats on our breasts. Cold is the ground on which we stand, and the keen\nfrost bites our feet. Ah, there are none to pity us. No one cares for\nthe slaves. We grind forever an enemy\u2019s quern, and he gives us no rest.\nGrind, grind; I am weary of grinding; I must have rest.\u201d\n\n\u201cNay,\u201d returned Menia, \u201ctalk not of rest until Frothi is content with\nwhat we bring him.\u201d\n\nThen Fenia started: \u201cIf he gives us no rest, let us take it ourselves.\nWhy should we any longer grind good for him who only gives us evil? We\ncan grind what we please. Let us revenge ourselves.\u201d\n\nThen Menia turned the handle quicker than ever, and in a wild voice she\nsang:\n\n \u201cI see a ship comes sailing\n With warriors bold aboard,\n There\u2019s many a one that in Danish blood\n Would be glad to dip his sword.\n Say, shall we grind them hither?\n Say, shall they land to-night?\n Say, shall they set the palace afire?\n Say, shall they win the fight?\u201d\n\nThen called Fenia in a voice of thunder through the midnight air:\n\u201cFrothi, Frothi, awake, awake! Wilt thou not listen to us? Have mercy\nand let us rest our weary limbs.\u201d But all was still, and Frothi gave no\nanswer to the cry.\n\n\u201cNay,\u201d answered Menia, \u201che will not hearken. Little he cares for the\nworn-out slaves. Revenge, revenge!\u201d\n\nAnd Frothi slept, not dreaming of the evil that was coming upon him.\n\nAnd again Fenia shouted: \u201cFrothi, Frothi, awake! The beacon is blazing.\nDanger is nigh. Wilt thou not spare?\u201d\n\nBut Frothi gave no answer, and the giant women toiled on.\n\n\u201cO Frothi, Frothi, we cannot bear our weariness.\u201d And still no answer\ncame.\n\n\u201cFrothi, Frothi, danger is nigh thee. Well-manned ships are gliding over\nthe sea. It is Mysingr who comes; his white sail flutters in the wind;\nhis flag is unfurled. Frothi, Frothi, awake, awake; thou shalt be king no\nlonger.\u201d\n\nAnd as the giant women ground, the words they spake came to pass\u2014they\nwere grinding revenge for themselves and brought the enemy nearer and\nnearer.\n\n\u201cHo! hearken to the herald! Frothi, Frothi, the town is on fire. The\npalaces will soon be ruined heaps. Grind, Menia, ever more swiftly, until\nwe grind death to Frothi.\u201d\n\nAnd Menia and Fenia ground and ground till Mysingr and his followers\nlanded from the ships. They ground until they had reached the palace.\n\n\u201cTo arms, to arms!\u201d shouted the warder, but it was too late. The\nGotlanders armed themselves; but who could stand against the army that\nthe slave women were grinding against them?\n\nNot long did the struggle last. Frothi and his Gotlanders fought bravely,\nbut the sea-king and his allies were mightier, for the giantesses were\nin giant mood, and turned the handle faster and faster, until down fell\nthe quern stones. Then sank Frothi pierced with wounds, and the fight was\nover. The army that Menia and Fenia had ground to help Mysingr vanished;\nand Mysingr and his men alone were left conquerors on the bloody field.\n\nThey loaded their ships with treasure, and Mysingr took with him Menia,\nFenia, and the quern stones.\n\nBut, alas! Mysingr was no wiser than King Frothi had been.\n\nGold, however, was not his first thought; he had enough of that, but he\nwanted something else that just then was more to him than gold.\n\nThere was no salt on board the sea-king\u2019s vessels; so he said: \u201cGrind\nsalt.\u201d\n\nAnd Menia and Fenia ground salt for Mysingr.\n\nAt midnight they asked if they had ground enough.\n\nAnd Mysingr bade them grind on.\n\nAnd so they ground and ground until the ship was so heavy with salt that\nit sank, and the sea-king and all his men were drowned.\n\nWhere the quern stones went down there is to this day a great whirlpool,\nand the waters of the sea have been salt ever since.\n\n[Illustration: THEY WOULD SWOOP DOWN AND BEAR HIS LIFELESS BODY TO\nVALHALLA\u2014page 100\n\n_From the painting by K. Dielitz_]\n\n\n\n\nBRUNHILDA AND THE MAGIC SWORD\n\nBy Constance Maud\n\n\nOn the summit of a rocky mountain peak a beautiful maiden lay sleeping.\nOn every side rose the tall dark pine trees, like huge giants on guard. A\ncircle of magic fire formed a glowing wall around her rocky couch.\n\nThe sun rose and set, night succeeded day, winter and summer came and\nwent, but the maiden slept on still.\n\nFrom head to foot she was encased in shining armor. On her breast lay\na shield, on her head glistened a warrior\u2019s helmet, and at her side a\nspear. For on a day long past it had been decreed that thus this maiden\nshould sleep, till awakened by the kiss of one who would dare the flames\nfor her sake, and claim her as bride.\n\nMany a knight, hearing of the beautiful sleeper, had thought to win his\nway to her; but no sooner did he see the angry fire darting out on all\nsides, and feel the scorching heat of the great flames, than the bravest\nfell back discouraged.\n\nTime was when this fair warrior had dwelt with the gods and goddesses in\nValhalla, for she was none other than Brunhilda, favorite daughter of\nWotan the king. She had eight sisters, each one beautiful as the dawn,\nand knowing neither fear nor weakness; but among them all Brunhilda\nwas fairest, bravest, and strongest. These nine maidens were known as\nthe Valkyrie, and each was a warrior perfect in the art of war. Chief\namong their duties was to attend all battles on earth. Riding on their\nwinged horses, they would hover over the battlefield, and, when a hero\nfell, swoop down and bear his lifeless body to Valhalla, where he would\nawaken to live among the gods, and be from henceforth one of the chosen\nbodyguard of Wotan.\n\nNow it happened on a day in these times long past that Wotan called\nto him Brunhilda, and charged her that she should defend Siegmund the\nVolsung in a deadly combat he was about to engage in with the grim and\nsavage Hunding.\n\nWotan had reasons for wishing to grant Siegmund a special favor. The\nFather of the Gods had once struck a mighty sword into the heart of an\nancient ash tree, decreeing that it should belong to him alone who could\npluck it out. Many a valiant knight had tried to win the sword; but all\nin vain. Buried deep in the ash-stem it remained till Siegmund came and\nwith one powerful wrench drew forth the weapon. Then Wotan rejoiced\nthat a man had been found strong enough to win his sword, and he loved\nSiegmund the Volsung greatly.\n\nBut Wotan hated Hunding, for he was a tyrant and a bully. With all his\nstrength and bluster, he had never been able to pluck out the sword,\nthough many a time had he tried, grinding his teeth savagely over his\nfailure.\n\nNow the cause of strife between Hunding and Siegmund was this\u2014Hunding had\na beautiful wife, Sieglinda by name, whom he had married sorely against\nher will. With her whole soul she loathed and hated the cruel Hunding,\nand only longed to escape from him. So it befell one day she fled with\nSiegmund the Volsung; for the first moment they met, these two loved one\nanother, and Sieglinda said to herself: \u201cIt were better far to die with\nSiegmund than to live with Hunding.\u201d\n\nWhen Hunding discovered their flight, he set forth to pursue the lovers,\nuttering loud threats of vengeance, which echoed through the forest for\nmiles round.\n\nHe called on Fricka, Queen of Valhalla, to help him, for he knew this\ngoddess to be most stern in her view of the duties of wives.\n\n\u201cO mighty goddess,\u201d cried Hunding, \u201cgrant me thine aid! May thy justice\nand my righteous vengeance speedily overtake the miscreant! Let not the\nscoundrel Volsung turn the power of Wotan\u2019s sword to his own advantage,\nfor then would all men surely say that the god\u2019s favor rests on faithless\nwives!\u201d\n\nFricka promised him her warm support, and also that of Wotan, whom she\nknew she could bend to her all-powerful will, however opposed he might\nfeel. Scarcely had Brunhilda left the presence of her father when the\ngoddess Fricka drove up in a car drawn by two fierce fleet-footed rams.\n\nWith stern majesty she demanded that Siegmund should be given up to\njustice, and the magic sword he had won be broken against the spear of\nWotan himself. It was for the honor of the gods and Valhalla, cried\nFricka, that Hunding\u2019s prayer for vengeance on his faithless wife and\nher lover be answered.\n\nIn vain did Wotan plead every excuse he could devise for his favorite\nSiegmund. Not until he had solemnly sworn on oath to cast off Siegmund,\nand recall the order given to Brunhilda, did the stern goddess take her\nleave. Wotan sank on the nearest rock a picture of utter dejection. In\nthis sad state Brunhilda found him shortly after. She listened in dismay,\nwhen in gloomy tones he said to her:\n\n\u201cThou shalt fight to-day as Fricka desires, and thou shalt vanquish\nutterly Siegmund the Volsung! Heed well my words\u2014my former order I now\nrecall.\u201d\n\nBrunhilda could scarcely believe she heard aright. \u201cNay, but thou lovest\nSiegmund,\u201d she cried in sore perplexity, \u201cand Hunding dost thou hate!\nAh,\u201d she continued, as a new thought came to her, \u201cthis second decree is\nnot given with thy heart! Rather will I abide by the first!\u201d\n\nBrunhilda spoke with good intent, but these were unlucky words. In many\nrespects the mighty Wotan was not unlike a mortal man.\n\n\u201cHow, froward child! Dost dare dispute my word?\u201d he cried. \u201cThou who\nare naught but the blind tool used by my hand! Wake not my wrath, but\nheed well my command\u2014Siegmund dies in the fight with Hunding. I have\nspoken\u2014go!\u201d\n\nIn sorrowful amaze the warrior-maiden took up her weapons and departed.\nShe found the ill-starred lovers resting awhile in their wanderings\nthrough the trackless forest. Sieglinda\u2019s strength was utterly spent,\nand she had fallen into a deep swoon.\n\n\u201cSiegmund the Volsung,\u201d spoke Brunhilda in solemn tones, \u201cI come to call\nthee hence!\u201d\n\n\u201cWho art thou, so fair and stern?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cOnly those already doomed to death may look upon my face,\u201d she answered.\n\u201cI am she who bears the fallen warrior to Valhalla.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd will this my love come also to Valhalla?\u201d asked Siegmund, gazing\ntenderly at the pale face of the sleeping Sieglinda.\n\n\u201cNay,\u201d replied Brunhilda, \u201csuch is not the will of Wotan; Sieglinda must\nremain upon the earth. But thou shalt be with heroes, and the daughters\nof Wotan shall wait upon thee.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf my love may not be there, I will have none of Valhalla\u2019s delights! I\nfollow thee not!\u201d answered Siegmund fixedly.\n\n\u201cThou hast looked on the face of the Valkyrie\u2014thou hast no choice but to\nfollow her,\u201d said Brunhilda.\n\n\u201cBy what warrior\u2019s hand must I fall?\u201d asked Siegmund.\n\n\u201cHunding will fell thee in the fight to-day,\u201d answered the Valkyrie.\n\nBut Siegmund laughed this prophecy to scorn. \u201cSeest thou this sword?\u201d he\nsaid, drawing forth the weapon of Wotan. \u201cIt was made by one in whose\nname I am sure of victory.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe who bestowed that sword now withdraws the charm, and himself dooms\nthee to death!\u201d cried Brunhilda in terrible ringing tones.\n\n\u201cHush! or thou wilt awaken my love,\u201d said Siegmund, bending tenderly\nover Sieglinda. \u201cIf what thou sayest be true, woe and shame be to him who\nbestowed such a sword! If I must perish and desert her,\u201d he continued\nbitterly, \u201cnever will I pass to the Valhalla of Wotan.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat!\u201d cried Brunhilda in horror. \u201cThou wouldst forego the glory of\nValhalla for the sake of this poor feeble woman?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf thou canst feel no pity, and canst give no help in my sore distress,\nthen leave me at least in peace. Speak not of Valhalla\u2019s empty joys.\u201d\n\nHow help this heroic lover without disobeying the order of Wotan her\nfather? \u201cConfide thy beloved to my care\u2014I will protect her, noble\nSiegmund,\u201d she said earnestly.\n\n\u201cI thank thee,\u201d replied Siegmund, \u201cbut none save I alone can protect my\nlove. And if this sword, which a traitor fashioned, is to prove false in\nthe fight, better it should take our two lives with one fell stroke.\u201d\nSo saying, he drew his sword and held it over Sieglinda. But Brunhilda\nseized his arm.\n\n\u201cStay thy hand, reckless man! Thou shalt not die, but live. Thou shalt\nnot leave Sieglinda. Sooner will I, Brunhilda, cancel the death-lot.\nDoubt me not, my promise is spoken. Take up thy sword, it shall prevail,\nfor I will aid thee. Speed now to meet thy foe. Hark to the sound of\nHunding\u2019s horn! Farewell, Siegmund!\u201d\n\nWith these words Brunhilda sprang on her winged horse, and soon vanished\nthrough the clouds.\n\nSiegmund gazed after her with grateful eyes; then, stooping, kissed\nSieglinda, saying softly: \u201cSlumber in peace, my beloved, till the fight\nis over and peril past.\u201d The horn of Hunding sounded loudly in the\ndistance, and Siegmund hastened away to meet him, leaving Sieglinda still\nasleep.\n\nA terrible thunderstorm now broke over the forest, thunderclouds rolled\nand clashed together. All was dark as night, no light save from the\nforked flashes which darted here and there in fiery streaks, like the\ngleaming swords of an unseen enemy fighting in the clouds.\n\nLouder and louder called the hunting-horns of Hunding and his followers.\nPresently a terrific thunderclap awoke Sieglinda. She started up in\nwildest terror. Siegmund was no longer by her side, a dense darkness\nsurrounded her, while near at hand rang the voice of Hunding crying in\ntones of wrath: \u201cHa, thou scoundrel Volsung! come out and fight, or my\nhounds shall hunt thee down!\u201d\n\nThe voices now seemed to come from a rock over Sieglinda\u2019s head. She\nlistened in eager anxiety as they continued to shout to one another.\nSuddenly a flash of lightning showed them fighting desperately on a ridge\nof the rock.\n\nSieglinda rushed forward, forgetting all fears for herself in an agony\nfor Siegmund\u2019s safety. Another blinding flash made her stagger backwards,\ndazed and giddy. For one instant the whole mountain-peak was lit up, and\nshe saw, hovering over Siegmund in the air, a woman on a winged horse,\ncovering him with a shield as he fought.\n\n\u201cNow is the moment, Siegmund the Volsung,\u201d cried a dear voice from\nabove. \u201cSlay him with thy magic sword!\u201d\n\nBut as Siegmund aimed his deadly stroke at the heart of Hunding, a\ndreadful disaster befell. Wotan, standing unseen at Hunding\u2019s side, put\nforth his spear and received the thrust of Siegmund\u2019s sword. \u201cBack before\nmy spear! Be splintered, thou sword!\u201d roared the voice of the god in\ntones of thunder.\n\nWith a sharp sound like a cry the sword of Siegmund snapped and flew to\npieces.\n\nBrunhilda fell back in dismay as the gleaming eye of Wotan met her own;\nand instantly Hunding plunged his sword into the heart of his defenseless\nfoe. Sieglinda fell senseless to the ground. Brunhilda, gathering up the\nfragments of the sword, hurried to her side, and, lifting her to the\nsaddle, rode off at lightning speed through the clouds.\n\nSiegmund\u2019s lifeless body lay at the feet of Wotan. Remorsefully he gazed\nupon the brave young warrior he would fain have spared. The sight of\nHunding was more than he could bear. With a backward wave of his hand\nWotan cried fiercely: \u201cGo, knave! Kneel before Fricka and tell her how\nwell Wotan avenged her slight!\u201d\n\nAnd at these words Hunding staggered and fell lifeless to the ground;\nfor no mortal man could stand before the scornful wave of Wotan\u2019s hand,\nunless he were of the race of Heroes who know not fear.\n\nSo Hunding died; but there was no Valkyrie to bear him to Valhalla. All\nhis life he had been a tyrant and a bully, and such men, were they the\nbest fighters in the world, could find no favor with the warrior-maidens.\n\n\u201cNow for Brunhilda!\u201d cried Wotan, his voice causing the very trees to\nquake and shiver. \u201cShe who has dared to defy and disobey me! Terrible\nshall be her punishment, though she be my best-loved child.\u201d\n\nHe sprang on his war-horse and followed where the parted clouds showed\nBrunhilda\u2019s recent track.\n\n\n\n\nBRUNHILDA\u2019S SLEEP GUARDED BY LOKI\u2019S FIERY ARM\n\nBy Constance Maud\n\n\nOn the summit of a lofty mountain the Valkyrie sisters met after the\nday\u2019s toil, to await their father Wotan, and present him with the heroes\nthey had gathered from the battlefields on earth.\n\nOne by one they alighted from their winged steeds, shouting the\nValkyries\u2019 war-cry greeting to each other, \u201cHei-a-ha! Hei-a-hei!\nHoyoto-ho!\u201d\n\nFrom the north came Helmwiga and Gerhilda well-laden; the fierce Norsemen\nnever failed to supply fresh recruits for Wotan\u2019s bodyguard. From east\nand west and every quarter came some tribute to Wotan, borne on the\nValkyries\u2019 saddle-bows.\n\n\u201cWhere tarries our sister Brunhilda?\u201d asked several eagerly. \u201cShe is late\nto-night. Ah, see, in the distance, who is that speeding hither like a\ncloud driven before the storm? Surely not so rides our queenly Brunhilda!\u201d\n\nWith the fainting Sieglinda in her arms, it was indeed Brunhilda who came\nin sight at last, flying on the wings of the wind.\n\n\u201cFaster! oh, faster, Grani my steed!\u201d she cried to the panting horse.\n\nAnd Grani, his strong head downward bent, with his winged feet cleft\nthe rolling clouds till they hissed like water meeting fire, while his\nbreath came in great snorting gasps, and the foam flew from his mouth in\nbig flakes like snow. Never before in his long service with his noble\nmistress had Grani been urged to flight, and he knew that dire indeed\nmust be the danger which Brunhilda dare not stand and face.\n\n\u201cWell striven, good Grani, faithful steed!\u201d cried Brunhilda, as the horse\nalighted on the mountain and dropped exhausted to the ground. Lifting\nSieglinda, now fully conscious, from the saddle, Brunhilda hastened\ntoward her sisters.\n\n\u201cShe brings no hero! It is naught but a maiden!\u201d they exclaimed in wonder\nand disappointment.\n\n\u201cHelp me, O sisters! Shield me and this poor woman, I beseech you!\u201d\nimplored Brunhilda breathlessly.\n\n\u201cWhy this furious haste? From whom fliest thou?\u201d asked the Valkyries,\ncrowding round her in amazement.\n\n\u201cI fly from our father! In terrible wrath he hunts me down!\u201d\n\n\u201cThou fliest from our father?\u201d cried all the sisters, horror-struck.\n\u201cWhat hast thou done that thou shouldst fly from him?\u201d\n\nBrunhilda poured out her tale in eager haste. From one to another she\nlooked for pity or sympathy but in vain. Sternly the Valkyries eyed\nher as she knelt and implored them to shelter her and the unfortunate\nSieglinda from the wrath of Wotan.\n\n\u201cWoe to thee, most unworthy sister! How durst thou disobey the sacred\ncommand of Wotan our father? Naught but disaster can follow!\u201d\n\nAnd now, from the north, raging storm-clouds came sweeping toward them.\nOne of the Valkyries mounted to the topmost peak, and, looking across the\nsky, called out:\n\n\u201cHe comes! Wotan the wrathful father! flying furiously in the\nstorm-clouds on his snorting steed!\u201d\n\n\u201cWho will lend me a horse? Grani is spent\u2014see, he cannot even stand!\nRossvisa, my sister, have pity, lend me thy racer!\u201d Brunhilda implored,\nturning to a stately Valkyrie whose magnificent steed was at her side.\n\n\u201cMy racer never yet fled our father in fear, and never shall!\u201d replied\nRossvisa coldly. To each one Brunhilda went, beseeching a horse.\n\n\u201cWe stand by our father!\u201d the Valkyries all answered her. Brunhilda was\nin despair.\n\nThen Sieglinda, who had watched the scene in gloomy silence, came forward\nand spoke. \u201cSorrow not for me, noble maiden. Oh, why didst thou not leave\nme to die with Siegmund? If thou hast indeed pity on me, stretch forth\nthy sword and pierce me now to the heart.\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, that must not be,\u201d answered Brunhilda. \u201cThou must live still,\nSieglinda, for thou shalt have a son, who will one day be the greatest\nhero in the world. Heed now what I say. To the eastward there lies a\nmighty forest; there Wotan will not pursue thee, for he abhors the spot.\nIt is the dwelling of Fafnir the dragon, his mortal foe. Thither haste\nthee. I will remain here to face the god\u2019s wrath, and hinder him till\nthou hast escaped far on thy journey.\u201d\n\n\u201cFly, then, Sieglinda!\u201d cried Brunhilda; \u201cspeed to the east! Faint not\nand fear not, whatever betide. Live for thy son, and call him by this\nname from me\u2014Siegfried the Victor! Give him these shattered pieces of his\nfather\u2019s sword\u2014from the field of death I took them. One day he shall weld\nthem into a mighty weapon. Farewell, Sieglinda!\u201d It was none too soon.\nAnother minute, and with a crash the angry god descended in the midst of\nthe dismayed Valkyries.\n\n\u201cWhere is Brunhilda, the rebel?\u201d he roared in tones of fury. \u201cLet her\ncome forth! Dare any to shelter her, they shall share the same doom.\u201d\n\nThe Valkyrie sisters had closed round Brunhilda in the vain hope of\nhiding her; but at these words she came out from their midst, her face\npale and set. \u201cHere am I, my father, to suffer my sentence,\u201d she said\nfirmly.\n\nWotan was not prepared for such calm fearlessness. \u201cI sentence thee\nnot,\u201d he answered. \u201c\u2019Tis thine own misdeed condemns thee!\u201d Then, with\ngathering wrath, he continued, \u201cI made thee a Valkyrie, highest in honor\nand favor. Thou hast forsworn thy noble calling, and played traitor to\nthy father. No longer mayest thou dwell in Valhalla as my child. Never\nmore will I send thee for my dead heroes. Never again shalt thou fill my\ncup at the feast! Degraded and exiled art thou forever!\u201d\n\nBrunhilda stood as though turned to stone.\n\nThe Valkyries burst into loud lamentations. \u201cWoe! woe! Alas, our unhappy\nsister!\u201d\n\nThen Brunhilda cried aloud in great agony of mind, \u201cO father, disown me\nnot! Take not from me all thy gifts! Leave me not to utter desolation!\u201d\n\nBut Wotan was not to be appeased, and the worst part of the sentence was\nyet to come. \u201cThou thyself hast called down my curse, and here where we\nnow stand it shall strike thee!\u201d he answered. \u201cA deep, dreamless sleep\nshall overpower thee, and to that man who first awakens thee shalt thou\nbelong from henceforth!\u201d\n\nAt this grim sentence all the Valkyries lifted their voices in a wail of\nhorror and dismay, crying: \u201cOh, terrible father, recall the curse! Let\nnot our sister be degraded to such a shameful fate. Each one of us shares\nin her disgrace.\u201d\n\nBrunhilda\u2019s woe was too great for any cry.\n\n\u201cI have spoken once\u2014my words abide forever!\u201d retorted Wotan. \u201cThy\ntreacherous sister,\u201d he continued, \u201cno longer belongs to the glorious\ntroop of Valkyries. Her godhood is forfeit! The doom she has earned is\nnow to wed a mortal man.\u201d\n\nAt this picture of her future, poor Brunhilda sank with a deep groan to\nthe earth.\n\nWotan turned to the eight sisters, who looked on in deep distress. \u201cIf ye\ndesire not a like doom, forbear to pity the outcast. Away now, begone,\nevery one of ye! Haste, lest I hurl the same woe on your heads!\u201d The\nearth quaked and trembled as Wotan passionately stamped his foot, and\nfiery gleams shot from his eyes.\n\nWith a last despairing look at Brunhilda and a wild cry of woe, the\nValkyries sprang on their horses and fled in hot haste. They knew if\ntheir stern father spared not his favorite Brunhilda, still less would he\nspare them.\n\nThe storm had now ceased. Brunhilda lay prostrate on the ground. Wotan\nstood motionless in silent gloom. His rage seemed spent, like that of\nthe storm. Then Brunhilda rose slowly from the ground, and spoke in deep\nsorrowful tones. \u201cWas my deed verily so shameful that such shame should\nfall upon me? Was it so base an act to fulfil thy _first_ command? Speak,\nO my father, and soften thy wrath toward me.\u201d\n\n\u201cThou didst wilfully disobey my sacred order. The _first_ command I\nrecalled,\u201d replied Wotan bitterly.\n\n\u201cBut not of thine own will. \u2019Twas Fricka who made thee false to thy\nnobler self; and because I held in my heart thy true wish, I dared to\nslight thy second order.\u201d\n\nThe mention of Fricka brought an angry flash from the eyes of Wotan. \u201cFor\nthat rebellious act the curse now falls on thee,\u201d he answered.\n\n\u201cBut I knew how well thou lovedst Siegmund,\u201d pleaded Brunhilda; \u201cand when\nI found him in the forest and told him of thy death decree, he revealed\nto me a wondrous thing I never before had known. For in his strong\ncourage and his undying devotion to Sieglinda, I learned what love could\nbe. And I resolved, whether victory or death came of it, to serve one\nso noble. In acting thus, O father, I was faithful to thee, even though\ndisobeying thereby thy command.\u201d\n\nWotan groaned. \u201cThou knowest naught of what compelled my action. Dark\nclouds are gathering on every side\u2014the day of doom threatens Valhalla!\nI dared not follow what my heart desired. But all this woe I kept from\nthee, that thy life might be happy and free from care. And thou, my\nfavorite, my beloved child, hast turned thy hand against me and proved\nfalse to my trust. Never again may I behold thy face! Since love proved\nthy undoing, follow now that man whom thou perforce must love.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf indeed I am banished forever, at least,\u201d she pleaded, \u201cgrant me one\nparting boon, O stern father. If I must wed a mortal man, let not thy\nValkyrie fall a victim to some worthless poltroon, when fetters of sleep\nbind her fast. In this one thing, O father, hear my prayer\u2014at thy command\nlet magical fire spring up in a glowing wall around my couch, that the\nflames may scare and scorch the timid, and none save a hero stout of\nheart may dare to approach me.\u201d\n\nWotan, stern and unbending though he was, could not refuse this one last\npetition. \u201cFarewell,\u201d he said, \u201cthou who wert once the light of my eyes.\nI grant thee this last parting boon\u2014tongues of flame will I set round\nthis place; with their terrible fury shall they scare the faint-hearted.\nOnly one shall awaken the bride, he whose strength and freedom is greater\nthan that of Wotan.\u201d\n\nWith a cry of grateful joy Brunhilda threw herself into her father\u2019s arm.\nTenderly he looked at her, and slowly kissed her on both eyes. A profound\nslumber instantly fell on Brunhilda, and Wotan, taking her in his arms,\nlaid her on a mossy mound overshadowed by a great fir tree.\n\n\u201cFarewell forever, my beloved beautiful child,\u201d he murmured sadly, as he\nclosed her helmet visor and covered her with the long steel shield of the\nValkyries.\n\nThen, going to a rock near by, he struck it three times with the point of\nhis spear, commanding in a loud voice: \u201cLoki! Fire-spirit, come forth.\nSpread me thy flames around this fell. Here keep thou guard as I decree.\nLoki, appear!\u201d\n\nAnd at his word, out sprang from the rock a long tongue of flame, which\nquickly spread to a mighty river of fire circling round and round the\nmountain where Brunhilda lay sleeping.\n\nThen Wotan, holding aloft his spear, cried in ringing tones: \u201cOnly he\nwhose spirit quaileth not before the spear of Wotan shall pass this fiery\nbar!\u201d With these words he vanished into the clouds, and the night fell.\n\nSuch was the story of Brunhilda\u2019s long sleep.\n\n[Illustration: TENDERLY HE LOOKED AT HER, AND SLOWLY KISSED HER ON BOTH\nEYES\u2014page 114\n\n_From the painting by K. Dielitz_]\n\n\n\n\nHOW SIEGFRIED KILLED THE DRAGON\n\nBy Constance Maud\n\n\nWhen Sieglinda fled from the wrath of Wotan, she went eastward, as\nBrunhilda directed. For long days and nights she journeyed, and came at\nlength to the country of the Nibelungs, where dwelt the great dragon\nFafnir.\n\nNow the Nibelungs were a race of ugly dwarfs, who lived underground,\nburrowing in the depths of the earth for gold and treasure. They cared\nnothing for the free forest life, the sunshine, trees, and flowers, or\npleasures of the chase. Like prisoners in a dungeon, they chose rather to\npass their lives digging and toiling in the dark for gold, and hoarding\nit up with anxious care.\n\nA vast heap of this treasure, including a magic Ring, stolen from the\nMermaids of the Rhine, and a Wishing Cap of strange powers called the\nTarnhelm, had fallen into the hands of Fafnir the giant, who, in order\nthe better to guard these precious possessions, transformed himself into\na huge dragon, the terror of all the country round.\n\nSieglinda lived a sad, lonely life in the forest. She avoided the caves\nwhere Fafnir dwelt, and as the dwarfs seldom came above ground, she saw\nnothing of them.\n\nThere was one, however, whom it was fated she should meet. His name was\nMimi, and of all the dwarfs of the Nibelung race he was the ugliest and\nthe meanest. Notwithstanding this, he was a very skilful blacksmith,\nand could also do fine work in gold, silver, and steel. Like all the\nNibelungs, he had a great dislike to fresh air, so he built his forge in\na cave half sunk underground, with a great chimney in the roof.\n\nMimi was working at his anvil one day, when he heard a deep groan outside\nthe cave. On going out, he saw a woman with a baby in her arms lying on\nthe ground. She was dying, and Mimi had only found her in time to hear\nher last words.\n\n\u201cHave pity!\u201d cried poor Sieglinda (for it was she). \u201cThy goodness shall\nbe rewarded. I am dying. Take this my son and bring him up. Call his name\nSiegfried, for one day he will be the greatest hero in the world. Keep\nfor him this broken sword\u2014it was Siegmund his father\u2019s\u2014\u2018Needful,\u2019 he\ncalled it!\u201d\n\nNow Mimi was not a kind-hearted person, and nothing would have induced\nhim to take care of a strange baby out of pity. But when Sieglinda said\nthat her child was the son of the famous hero Siegmund the Volsung, and\nwould one day himself be the greatest hero in the world, then a grand\nidea struck Mimi. He would bring up the boy as his own son, and when\nSiegfried was full-grown, he should be sent forth to kill Fafnir and win\nfor his foster-father all the dragon\u2019s treasure!\n\nSo Mimi answered Sieglinda in a cracked voice, which he tried to make\npleasant:\n\n\u201cBe comforted, poor woman. I will take the child out of the kindness of\nmy heart, and do my best for him.\u201d\n\nSieglinda died with a blessing on her lips, and Mimi took the little\nSiegfried to dwell with him in his cave.\n\nBut the dwarf soon found he had no easy task in bringing up this son of a\nhero. Never was such a daring, fearless, mischievous infant. Many a time\nwould Mimi have turned him adrift, or put an end to him with a blow from\nhis smith\u2019s hammer, but for the thought that this bold young imp was just\nthe sort to delight in slaying a dragon, and pay no heed as to who took\nthe treasure.\n\nAs soon as he could walk, the boy would escape into the forest, and there\nrun wild all day; chasing the bears and foxes, feeling no fear of any\nliving creature. He grew so fast that in a few years he was bigger and\nstronger than Mimi, whom from the first he disliked, perceiving the dwarf\nto be false and cowardly in all his actions.\n\nMimi always told the boy he was his father, and this was a great trouble\nto Siegfried. How he would have loved a father who was noble, fearless,\nand brave! But Mimi feared everything. He trembled and turned pale did\na wolf but howl, or the thunder roll. He feared not only giants, but\nordinary huntsmen and woodcutters, and always hid when they came in\nsight. He feared even Siegfried, so the boy soon became his master, and\nled him a sorry life. But creatures too small and weak to excite his fear\nMimi would cruelly oppress and kill; and this, more than anything else,\nmade Siegfried hate the very sight of him.\n\nTime went on, and Siegfried grew into a tall strong youth, with fair\nlocks shining in the sun like burnished gold, and fearless blue eyes,\nwhich laughed danger in the face. At last the day came when Mimi hoped\nto be repaid for all his trouble with \u201cthe good-for-nothing cub,\u201d as he\ncalled the boy. Siegfried had ordered him in a lordly way to make a sword\nfit for his use\u2014\u201cone that does not snap in two at the first stroke,\u201d he\nsaid, and strode off to the forest for his day\u2019s hunt.\n\nMimi had undertaken the task more than once lately, for he was anxious on\nhis own account that a sword should be fashioned strong and tough enough\nto slay the dragon. But as yet every weapon he welded had snapped in two\nat the first trial of its strength by Siegfried.\n\nWith mighty effort Mimi hammered and wrought at his anvil all that day.\n\u201cA stouter sword I never shaped! It would defy a giant,\u201d he said at last,\nlooking on his day\u2019s work. \u201cYet I sorely fear, when grasped by that fiery\nyouth, it will twist up like a straw!\u201d\n\nMimi sat down exhausted and despairing. \u201cAh me! What is to be done?\u201d he\nsighed. \u201cIf only Siegmund\u2019s splintered sword could be welded together\nagain! But no power on earth can do that! Never saw I such mighty\nsteel\u2014all my craft is powerless to melt it\u2014the thing is magic!\u201d\n\n\u201cOho! Come on, friend Bruin!\u201d cried a voice from without, and Siegfried\nburst into the cave, driving a great grisly bear, which he held in tow\nwith a rope.\n\nMimi started up in terror, and hid behind the forge shrieking: \u201cTake away\nthe fearsome brute!\u201d\n\nSiegfried burst into peals of laughter at Mimi\u2019s fear. \u201cMr. Bruin is a\nfriend of mine. He has come to ask for the sword\u2014is it not finished yet?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, it is finished. There it lies yonder. Take away the beast!\u201d panted\nMimi.\n\nSiegfried seized the sword eagerly. \u201cGo now, friend Bruin,\u201d he said,\nloosing the rope, and the bear gladly escaped.\n\n\u201cSee how nice and bright is the sword,\u201d said Mimi, creeping out of his\nhiding-place.\n\n\u201cTo what purpose is a sword bright if it is not hard?\u201d asked Siegfried,\nwith scorn. He struck it on the anvil, and the sword instantly flew to\npieces. \u201cWhat silly toy hast thou palmed off on me here?\u201d he cried,\nflinging it away in disgust. \u201cDost call that a sword? Why talk to me\nof battles, and giants, and deeds of daring, if thou canst shape me no\nbetter weapon than that? Right well dost thou deserve that I break it on\nthy crazy old head!\u201d\n\n\u201cUngrateful boy! Think of all my goodness to thee! When a wretched,\ntroublesome cub, who was it warmed, clothed, and fed thee? Who patiently\ntaught thee all thou knowest? And what is my reward? naught but abuse and\nhate!\u201d Mimi pretended to wipe away a tear, as though overcome by grief;\nbut he had done this once too often.\n\n\u201cNo doubt thou hast taught me much, and told me many lies,\u201d answered\nSiegfried, who was in no mood for polite speeches. \u201cBut there is one\nthing,\u201d he continued, \u201cthou hast never taught me, and which I am now\ndetermined to know\u2014Who and from whence are my father and mother? Long\nhave I felt thou art no kin of mine. I see in the forest all the young\nresemble their parents; but thou and I are no more like than a toad and\na bright shining fish!\u201d\n\nMimi did not like the comparison. His eyes gleamed with hate.\n\n\u201cTell me the truth, or I will shake it out of thee!\u201d cried Siegfried,\nseizing him by the throat.\n\n\u201cLet loose, or thou wilt murder me, wretched boy!\u201d screamed the dwarf\nin terror. \u201cI will tell thee all!\u201d Then, trembling and quaking, he told\nSiegfried all he knew of his unhappy parents, with many comments on his\nown exceeding kindness, to which Siegfried listened impatiently. Finally,\nin proof of his tale (which, for a wonder, was true), Mimi produced the\ntwo pieces of splintered sword, saying dolefully\u2014\u201cBehold, as reward for\nall my toil and trouble, this had I from thy mother!\u2014a broken sword thy\nfather died while wielding\u2014\u2018Needful,\u2019 they called it\u2014a foolish name,\nsince it failed in time of need!\u201d\n\nSiegfried rejoiced at learning that he sprang from a noble race. He\nthought with tenderness of his unfortunate parents, and wished he could\nhave brought some comfort to his poor brave mother. Eagerly he seized\nthe broken pieces of his father\u2019s sword. \u201cTo me it shall be well named\n\u2018Needful\u2019,\u201d he cried. \u201cIf thou hast any craft, show it now, Mimi. Up and\nforge me these fragments! My father\u2019s sword I will wield to-day, and with\nit go forth into the world.\u201d So saying, he went out of the cave, leaving\nMimi looking disconsolately at the broken sword.\n\n\u201cNo furnace can melt this hard steel. No hammer can bend it. Yet this is\nthe sword which alone can slay Fafnir!\u201d\n\nWhen Siegfried returned Mimi had still done nothing. He seemed to have\njust awakened from some bad dream.\n\n\u201cHo, lazy fellow! Hast finished the sword?\u201d he shouted.\n\nMimi crept up slowly from behind the anvil, looking round cautiously,\nlest Siegfried had brought some wild beast with him. \u201cThe sword?\u201d he\nexclaimed in dismal tones. \u201cHow can I mend such steel? But, hark ye,\nboy\u201d; and Mimi came close up, peering into his face; \u201chast ever known\nFear?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhom meanest thou by Fear? Never have I heard of him!\u201d Siegfried\nanswered impatiently.\n\n\u201cAlone in the forest on a dark night, near some gloomy spot, when a\nsudden rustle or roar startled thee close at hand, hast never felt grisly\nshudderings, thy heart beating and bursting in thy breast?\u201d\n\nThe little dwarf\u2019s description of his unknown feeling interested\nSiegfried greatly. He even forgot to be angry about the sword. \u201cRight\nstrange and wondrous must that be,\u201d he cried. \u201cMy heart is ever firm and\nsteady\u2014how I long to feel sensations so new and curious\u2014this shivering\nand shaking and beating and bursting! Tell me then, Mimi, how can I learn\nto know Fear?\u201d\n\n\u201cI will tell thee!\u201d said Mimi, delighted. \u201cThere is one I know of who\nwill not fail to teach thee. A monstrous dragon he is, Fafnir by name. I\nwill guide thee to his hole.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere is it? Let us be gone at once. Give me the sword, I will mend it\nmyself. Verily thou art but a bungling smith.\u201d Heaping a mass of wood on\nthe fire, Siegfried blew it up till the flames roared like hungry lions.\nThen, fixing the sword-splinters in a vice, he proceeded to file them to\npowder.\n\nMimi watched in wonder and envy. Now and then he timidly offered his\nadvice, to which Siegfried paid as much heed as though it were the\nsqueaking of a mouse.\n\nWorking away with a will, Siegfried performed the mightiest feats of\nstrength with no more exertion than if he were shaping a toy for a child.\nWhen the sword was all in powder, he put it in a pot on the forge. Then,\nblowing up the flames afresh, he sang in a voice strong as a clarion a\njoyful song of freedom and victory.\n\nThe steel sword of his father seemed to understand the song, for it\nbubbled and spluttered all liquid in the pot, as though it would leap out\nfor very joy.\n\nMimi listened, too, but he did not enjoy the song. His wily brain was\nhard at work planning his own ends. That Siegfried should remake the\nsword was very well, for without it Fafnir could not be slain\u2014but\nsupposing he took the Ring, the gold, and all?\u2014what then would become of\npoor Mimi? So he prepared a wonderful draught of such powerful poisons,\nthat one drop was enough to make a giant fall senseless to the ground.\n\u201cWhen he comes home weary from his fight with the dragon, I will give him\nthis refreshing cup,\u201d said Mimi, with a malicious chuckle.\n\nMeanwhile Siegfried poured the molten steel into a mould, which he\nforthwith plunged hissing into a tank of cold water. \u201cHa, ha, Mimi!\u201d he\ncried. \u201cSo you have turned cook, and brew sauces while I brew swords!\nMethinks,\u201d he added to himself, \u201cI would rather taste of my cooking than\nhis!\u201d\n\nThe dwarf\u2019s sharp little eyes glistened with hate as he stirred the\npotion, and crooned low his song of hope and vengeance. \u201cSo the pupil\nputs the craftsman to shame, does he? Only let him wait till this draught\nis duly prepared!\u201d\n\n\u201cNow, Needful, come forth, and see what the hammer can do for thee!\u201d\ncried Siegfried.\n\nHe took the sword hard and cold from the water, and thrust it in the\nred-hot coals till it glowed like a sword of flame. Then with a huge\nsmith\u2019s hammer, he beat it out on the anvil. The sparks flew right and\nleft like fireflies, and Siegfried sang again:\n\n\u201cHa, Needful! So do I tame thy spirit! At my command thou glowest fiery\nred\u2014then in the water I cool thine anger till thy sides gleam steely\nblue! Now with stalwart strokes I beat thee out, Needful, my famous\nsword\u2014so does my spirit enter thee! Soon thy cold blade shall glow red\nagain with the blood of traitors! Dead didst thou lie, but I, Siegfried,\ngive thee life once more. Needful, come forth!\u201d\n\nBrandishing the sword, Siegfried brought down a mighty stroke across the\nanvil. With a crash it split from top to bottom, giving Mimi such a shock\nhe nearly upset his precious pot.\n\nSo the sword was remade, and Siegfried forthwith started out, guided\nby Mimi, to find the dragon. Darkness had fallen, but Siegfried was\ntoo impatient for his first lesson in fear to wait till morning. All\nnight they tramped through the forest. At every rustle of the branches,\nevery snapping of a twig, Mimi started as though he were shot. Siegfried\nwatched him with scorn; his mocking laughter re-echoed through the\nstillness.\n\nAnd the dwarf\u2019s hatred grew more bitter with every step. Many a time he\nlonged then and there to force down Siegfried\u2019s throat the draught he\ncarried so carefully under his cloak.\n\nOn they went, Siegfried scarcely heeding the way, so high bounded his\nheart with thoughts of adventure. To fight and conquer giants and\ndragons\u2014to go out into the wide world and be free as air\u2014free from the\nfalse, cowardly Mimi\u2014free to choose brave and noble companions whom he\ncould honor and love! What unknown joys might not life he waiting to give\nhim who dared to win them!\n\nDay was dawning when at length they reached some rocky caverns at the\nfoot of a mountainous chain. \u201cThis is the spot,\u201d said Mimi in a trembling\nwhisper. \u201cSeest thou yonder dark, yawning hole? Inside lies Fafnir. Day\nand night he guards his treasure\u2014the gold, the Ring, and the Tarnhelm.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo he is the master who will teach me Fear?\u201d cried Siegfried joyfully.\n\u201cThou canst leave me now, Mimi\u2014I need thee no more.\u201d\n\n\u201cUngrateful boy!\u201d sighed the dwarf. \u201cBut I will not go far. My heart\nwill be torn with anxiety for thy safety. Fafnir is no common foe\u2014with a\nsingle snap he could swallow thee whole!\u201d Siegfried laughed. \u201cI shall be\ncareful not to thrust myself down such a wide throat!\u201d\n\n\u201cEh, but his very breath is potent poison,\u201d continued Mimi, \u201cand the foam\nof his mouth, if it but touch thee, will shrivel up both flesh and bones\non the spot. While as to his tail, \u2019tis like a huge snake, which, once\nthou art in its coils, will grind thy limbs as though they were powdered\nglass!\u201d\n\nMimi hastened away, muttering to himself, \u201cWould that the dragon and the\nboy might slay one another!\u201d\n\nSiegfried threw himself down under the trees to wait for Fafnir. A bird\nbegan to sing in the branches overhead. Siegfried listened, and wished\nhe could understand the bird\u2019s language. \u201cPerchance if I but knew it, he\nsings to me of my mother, and of all I wish to know!\u201d\n\nSiegfried gazed up between the leaves at the bird, which paused for\na moment, and fixed on him a pair of little black eyes; then started\nafresh, gurgling forth his liquid notes and trills.\n\n\u201cThe language of the birds may be learned, so I have heard tell!\u201d cried\nSiegfried, and swinging up, he went down to the stream and cut a reed\nwith his sword. With much trouble he fashioned a pipe, and returning to\nhis friend in the tree, tried to imitate his music. The bird stopped to\nlisten, much surprised. But it was a sorry performance, and though this\nbird was too polite to laugh, Siegfried distinctly heard a tittering and\nfluttering from other listeners. Much disheartened, he flung away the\nreed.\n\n\u201cIt is no use!\u201d he cried. \u201cI alone in all the world have no friend, no\ncompanion with whom I can speak. Well, at least, I will try if there is\nanyone will understand _this_ language.\u201d He took the silver horn slung\nround his neck and blew a ringing challenge. It was answered in a moment\nby a low roar from the distant cave, followed soon by slow, crashing\nsteps and deep-drawn snorts coming nearer and nearer.\n\nPresently Siegfried beheld an enormous wriggling mass of shining scales\nadvancing toward him. \u201cSo my call has awakened this lovely creature,\u201d he\nlaughed, as the hideous monster came full in view.\n\n\u201cWhat is that?\u201d asked a thick, guttural voice, and the dragon paused to\ngaze in wonder and contempt at the youth who faced him with such bold\nlaughing eyes.\n\n\u201cSo thou hast the gift of speech, Mr. Dragon? That is well!\u201d remarked\nSiegfried lightly. \u201cI have come to learn from thee, what is Fear.\u201d\n\n\u201cOverbold art thou,\u201d growled the voice, while from enormous jaws issued a\nvolume of fire and smoke, filling the air with a noisome vapor.\n\n\u201cBold or overbold, here am I to learn my lesson\u2014so teach me without\ndelay!\u201d answered Siegfried. Fafnir opened his yawning jaws and showed two\nrows of jagged, pointed teeth, enormous in size.\n\n\u201cVerily thou hast a fine row of grinders, Mr. Dragon!\u201d laughed Siegfried.\n\u201cA most dainty little mouth!\u201d\n\n\u201cI open not my jaw for senseless gabble, but for food!\u201d growled Fafnir,\nand gave his tail a sudden switch round, which would certainly have\ncaught Siegfried in its toils, had he not sprung alertly to one side.\n\n\u201cHo, ho! so that is the game, is it? Come on then, Mr. Dragon!\u201d and\nSiegfried drew Needful sharply from the scabbard.\n\n\u201cBah! Come on, thou boasting young cub! I will give the lesson thou\ncravest!\u201d\n\nFafnir drew himself together and sent forth from his nostrils a venomous\nsteam. Whatever it touched, whether trees or grass, shrivelled up\ninstantly, as though scorched by fire. But again Siegfried was too quick\nfor him, and Fafnir, who hoped to see a burnt-up body on the ground, was\nenraged to hear a cheerful voice behind him\u2014\u201cLook out, old growler! the\n\u2018boaster\u2019 is upon thee.\u201d\n\nThen Fafnir set to work in good earnest, and Siegfried found that after\nall it was no child\u2019s play to fight a dragon. But though blinded and\nwell-nigh choked with the poisonous smoke and steam, Siegfried fought on,\nnothing daunted. The only vital spot was, he knew, the dragon\u2019s heart,\nthe back and sides of his huge carcass being entirely covered with scaly\narmor.\n\nNearer and nearer they closed on one another, till at last Fafnir, with\na sudden twist, caught Siegfried in his serpentine tail. But before\nthe coils had time to tighten round him, Siegfried had pierced Needful\nthrough a joint of the scaly tail. Fafnir sent up a howl of rage and\npain, and for a moment relaxed his grip. With a bound Siegfried leapt on\nthe back of his foe. Fafnir instantly prepared to roll over on one side\nand so crush Siegfried with his mountainous weight; but in turning, his\nbreast for a brief moment was exposed, and in the twinkling of an eye\ndown swept the sword of Siegfried, burying itself up to the hilt in the\ndragon\u2019s heart.\n\nWith a terrific groan Fafnir rolled over, while Siegfried sprang lightly\nto one side, crying: \u201cLie there, old growler, with Needful in thy heart!\u201d\nIn great puffs of smoke and fire, like an overturned steam-engine, came\nFafnir\u2019s dying breath. His eyes rolled horribly; fixing them at last on\nSiegfried, he gasped, \u201cWho art thou, clear-eyed youth?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn truth,\u201d replied Siegfried, \u201cI know but little of myself or of my kin.\u201d\n\n\u201cA strange fate is mine!\u201d groaned the dragon. \u201cI, the great giant Fafnir,\nto die by the hand of a youth unknown even to himself! Young hero, heed\nwell the dying words of him whom thou hast slain. The treasure I guarded\nis accursed. Death it brought to my brother, and now to me. If thou touch\naught of it, the curse rests also on thee. Heed what I say!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, tell me more, wise monster!\u201d Siegfried entreated. \u201cTell me of my\nparents, and the race from which they sprang. Siegfried is my name!\u201d\n\nFafnir heaved himself upwards in a last effort to speak. \u201cSiegfried\u201d\u2014he\nbegan, gasped for breath and then with a deep groan fell back dead.\n\nAs he rolled over on his side, Siegfried drew the sword out of his\nbreast. He felt sorry the giant was dead, and had now quite a kindly\nfeeling for him. Those last words had shown him to be a wise and\nthoughtful monster. But still, Siegfried was not sure he would take his\nadvice. In drawing out the sword, some of the dragon\u2019s blood chanced\nto touch Siegfried\u2019s hand. It burnt like a red-hot coal, and he put it\nquickly to his mouth. As he did so, the song of the bird again fell on\nhis ear. He listened in amazement\u2014for now every note was a word which he\nunderstood!\n\nThis was what the bird sang in his sweet piping voice: \u201cHey, Siegfried!\nSiegfried the Victor has slain the dragon! Now to him belongs the gold,\nthe Ring, and the Tarnhelm. With these he can conquer the world if he\nwill.\u201d\n\n\u201cThanks, little feathered friend, for thy good news\u2014I will go and seek\nfor these treasures!\u201d and nodding to the bird, Siegfried descended into\nFafnir\u2019s dark cave.\n\nMimi, from a safe hiding-place in the trees, had watched the fight\nbetween Fafnir and Siegfried. He now crept out, and anxiously peeped\nafter Siegfried as he disappeared into the dragon\u2019s hole. \u201cGrant, O ye\ngods, that he take only the gold, and leave the Ring and the Cap for me!\u201d\nprayed Mimi fervently.\n\nLittle did he guess how the singing bird had told Siegfried all he\ndesired to keep most secret. He thought, \u201cThe bright, glittering gold\nwill be sure to attract the youth more than a plain simple ring and a\nsmall cap of wrought chain.\u201d Presently Siegfried came out of the cave.\nMimi crawled stealthily back to his hiding-place and peered out through\nthe leaves.\n\n\u201cA curse on him!\u201d he muttered, grinding his teeth with rage. \u201cThe Ring\nis on his finger, and the Cap hangs from his belt!\u201d\n\nSiegfried looked round for his piping friend; perched on the branch of a\nlime tree the bird awaited him.\n\n\u201cHey! Siegfried has now both Ring and Cap! Siegfried the Victor! But\noh, he must beware of the treacherous dwarf! The dragon\u2019s blood will\nreveal to him the hidden meaning of all words\u2014both true and false. His\n_thoughts_ shall Siegfried hear when the dwarf Mimi speaks.\u201d\n\nCarefully carrying his poisonous draught, Mimi now approached.\n\n\u201cThou art tired after thy mighty conflict. See what I bring to restore\nthee! Take but a sip, and all I have worked and waited for will be\nmine\u2014sword, treasure, and all.\u201d Mimi thought he was saying something very\npleasant. He smiled and cringed as he offered the drinking-horn. But\nthese were his thoughts as Siegfried heard them, in virtue of his newly\ngained power.\n\n\u201cSo thou wouldst rob me of everything, even of life?\u201d asked Siegfried\nsternly.\n\n\u201cHow falsely dost thou distort my kind words!\u201d replied Mimi in an injured\ntone. \u201cYet I give myself much trouble to disguise my true thoughts. Dear\nheart, thee and thy kin have I ever hated.\u201d (Mimi here looked lovingly at\nSiegfried.) \u201cAll these years I fostered thee, that thou mightest win for\nme the dragon\u2019s hoard. Come, now, take the draught; thou wert ever easy\nto fool.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: SIEGFRIED SLAYS THE DRAGON\u2014page 128\n\n_From the painting by K. Dielitz_]\n\nSiegfried looked at the little dwarf and smiled ominously. \u201cI should be\nright glad of a goodly draught,\u201d he said. \u201cOf what didst thou make this?\u201d\n\n\u201cOnly drink and see, dear sonny. Trust to my skill. Soon wilt thou be\nlying in a deathly swoon at my feet. Then, with thine own brave sword,\noff goes thy head! And Mimi will rest in peace with the hoard.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo\u2014I am to be murdered in my sleep?\u201d asked Siegfried.\n\n\u201cWhat folly dost thou talk! Who spoke of murder? All I thought of doing\nwas just to chop off thy head when thou liest insensible. A small return\nfor the shameful treatment I have so long suffered at thy hands. Come,\ndrink and die, thou hateful Volsung cub;\u201d and Mimi, still smiling and\nleering, thrust the drinking-horn near Siegfried\u2019s lips.\n\n\u201cTaste thou my sword, false snake!\u201d cried Siegfried. With a sudden\nmovement of disgust and fury he struck at the dwarf with his sword. The\nnext instant Mimi lay dead on the ground. Siegfried threw his body inside\nthe dragon\u2019s cave, crying: \u201cLie there with the gold thou so lovest. I\nmake thee a parting gift of it. And here is a famous watch-dog to scare\naway all thieves.\u201d With this Siegfried dragged the body of the dragon to\nthe mouth of the cave, thereby entirely blocking up the entrance.\n\nThen he turned away from the spot with a sigh of relief, and went back\nto the lime tree, where first the bird had sung to him. Throwing himself\ndown under the shady branches, he called to his little friend: \u201cCome,\nsing to me, happy bird. Alone am I in all the world. Never have I known\na comrade save the hateful dwarf yonder. Tell me, O wise little prophet,\nwhere shall I find one I can love?\u201d\n\nAll was stillness in the forest. The sun was now at its height. Only the\nsoft, low hum of insect life filled the drowsy air.\n\nSuddenly a flutter of wings overhead, and the clear note of the wood-bird\npiped out once more: \u201cHey, Siegfried the Victor! He has slain the\ntreacherous dwarf. Now a glorious bride awaits him. But he must go\nthrough the flames to win and to wake her, for Brunhilda sleeps fast,\nguarded by Loki\u2019s fiery arm.\u201d\n\nSiegfried started to his feet.\n\n\u201cOh, sweetest song! How it fills my heart with joy and longing! Say, dear\nbird, how shall I find this bride, and break through the fire?\u201d\n\nThen the bird sang again: \u201cOnly he who knows not Fear can awaken and win\nthe sleeping bride.\u201d\n\nAt this Siegfried laughed aloud with delight; for had not even Fafnir\nfailed to teach him fear? \u201cPerchance, from Brunhilda shall I learn to\nknow what is Fear,\u201d he cried gaily. \u201cFly on before, sweet bird; point\nthou the road; I follow thee!\u201d\n\nThe bird fluttered his wings joyfully and flew on ahead, Siegfried\nfollowing with bounding step.\n\n\n\n\nHOW SIEGFRIED FINDS BRUNHILDA\n\nBy Constance Maud\n\n\nFor many a day Siegfried journeyed, keeping the bird always in sight. At\nnight he slept under a tree, and the bird rested in a branch above, but\nwith the first whisper of dawn Siegfried would start up, impatient to be\noff again.\n\nOver mountain and valley, across river and lake, Siegfried followed as\nthough his feet were shod with invisible wings, never flagging, never\nweary. He came at length one evening to a narrow pass in the mountains.\nThe way seemed to lead upwards, but daylight was fading, and Siegfried\ncould see nothing clearly. All at once the bird circled rapidly over his\nhead, sang a few sweet half-plaintive notes, and then, soaring upwards,\nvanished out of sight.\n\nIn the same moment a deep voice spoke close at hand: \u201cHalt! What seekest\nthou here?\u201d\n\nSiegfried went forward, and standing in the narrow way he saw a tall\ndark form. \u201cI seek for the fire-girt mountain where the beautiful maiden\nsleeps,\u201d answered Siegfried fearlessly. \u201cCanst thou tell me the way?\u201d\n\n\u201cWho told thee of such a maiden?\u201d demanded the stranger sternly.\n\n\u201cA singing bird gave me the good news,\u201d said Siegfried. \u201cBy tasting the\nblood of a dragon I learned the language of the birds, and I know my bird\nspake true.\u201d He was getting impatient at so many questions and anxious to\ngo on his way.\n\n\u201cSo! thou hast slain old Fafnir. And with what weapon didst strike the\ndeath-blow, bold youth?\u201d The stranger was in no hurry, evidently.\n\n\u201cWith my father\u2019s splintered sword, which I welded together again,\u201d said\nSiegfried, with pride.\n\n\u201cBut who first shaped that mighty sword?\u201d asked the stranger.\n\n\u201cThat I neither know nor care. \u2019Twas a mighty useless weapon till I took\nit in hand, that I know,\u201d answered Siegfried. \u201cIf thou canst not direct\nme on the road I seek, hold thy peace and let me pass on my way.\u201d\n\n\u201cSoftly, young sir! Thou dost not know with whom thou speakest.\u201d\n\n\u201cI know that this path leads onwards to my lady, for thither pointed the\nbird before he left me. So make way and let me pass,\u201d returned Siegfried\nangrily.\n\n\u201cThe bird fled to save its life. The way it pointed thou shalt never\npass, presumptuous youth.\u201d\n\n\u201cHa, ha! And who art _thou_ to arrest my steps?\u201d laughed Siegfried\nscornfully.\n\n\u201cI am the Guardian of yon mountain, where sleeps the maiden Brunhilda! A\nwall of flame encircles her, which even to approach would scorch thee to\ndeath. Begone then, rash fool, for to win thy way one step farther, thou\nmust first overcome the mountain\u2019s Guardian.\u201d\n\nPlacing himself in the middle of the road, the stranger loomed above\nSiegfried gigantic and immovable as the rock itself.\n\nBut Siegfried remained unawed. \u201cBegone thyself, old boaster!\u201d he cried\nirreverently. \u201cThink not to scare me with such tales. I love the fire\u2019s\nblaze! So out of my way, for I haste to where Brunhilda sleeps.\u201d\n\n\u201cThou fearest not the fire?\u201d retorted the stranger, \u201cThen fear this\nmy Spear, for it shall bar thy way\u2014this Spear, which once already has\nshattered thy father\u2019s sword.\u201d\n\nThe sky had now become lurid; a terrific tempest was gathering. At the\nstranger\u2019s words, Siegfried sprang forward, and, drawing Needful from the\nscabbard, shouted exultingly: \u201cHave I then found my father\u2019s foe? Thanks\nbe to the gods for letting me avenge his death!\u201d\n\nThen, falling on the powerful form that barred his way, he hewed with\nlong, swift strokes at the Spear, which, had he hesitated one moment, or\nmade one false step, would have struck him dead.\n\nThere was a rushing sound of wings in the storm-clouds overhead. Anxious\nfaces peered down on the scene. The warrior maidens, hovering above on\ntheir war-horses, trembled and paled as they beheld the Spear which once\nhad been the terror of the world hewn to pieces, while their father,\nrecoiling at last before the fiery youth, cried half triumphantly, in\nspite of his defeat: \u201cAdvance! I cannot bar thy way.\u201d For Wotan\u2019s heart\nnever failed to rejoice in a real hero, even though he fought against him.\n\nA terrific clap of thunder followed, and a dark cloud swept over\nthe fighters. When it rolled away, Siegfried looked in vain for his\nmysterious foe. He had vanished. \u201cNow through the fire to win my bride!\u201d\ncried Siegfried joyously, and leapt up the mountain side.\n\nA ruddy glow soon told him he was nearing the fiery wall, and gusts of\nhot air swept across his face. Taking his silver horn, Siegfried blew a\ncall which echoed far and near. \u201cTo greet my sleeping love!\u201d he cried.\n\nAnd now the fire was all about him, bursting up under his feet, pouring\ndown from the skies, rushing round on every side. \u201cAha! This is\nglorious!\u201d shouted Siegfried, plunging eagerly onwards, and laughing. The\nfierce flames which had scared so many nearly to death did not scorch\neven a hair of Siegfried\u2019s head. For the magic fire injured only those\nwho retreated\u2014he who dashed fearlessly onward remained unharmed.\n\nHigher and higher up the mountain went Siegfried. Emerging at last from\nthe flames, he found himself on the summit of a rocky peak, clad with\ntall dark pine trees.\n\nHe looked around him, and rejoiced for very joy to be alive in such a\nfair world. The stillness was wonderful. Not a sound could be heard, for\nthe wood-bird will not build his home so near the sky, and the fire had\nkept out all wingless intruders.\n\nPresently Siegfried saw, standing motionless under the trees, a stately\nhorse. On going nearer, he was astonished to find that on his feet were\nwings. His eyes were closed in profound sleep. Siegfried stroked his\nflowing name. \u201cAwake good steed! The sun has arisen. This is no time for\nsleeping.\u201d His voice rang out clear as his silver horn, and with a start,\nGrani awoke.\n\nBut Siegfried looked around in vain for the bride\u2014Brunhilda. Suddenly the\nrising sun struck with its glittering light on an object under a distant\npine. Siegfried hastened forward, and with wonder beheld a sleeping form\nclad from head to foot in shining armor. \u201cHere is some warrior, for\nsure,\u201d cried Siegfried. \u201cThis heavy helmet must press sorely on his head;\nI will loosen it for him.\u201d\n\nHe stooped, lifted the shield, and then carefully unfastened the helmet.\nAs he removed it, the sleeper\u2019s hair rolled out in long curling locks of\nburnished gold. Siegfried started. Never had he seen anything so fair as\nthat calm proud young face, framed in the wavy shining curls.\n\nSo still lay the sleeping warrior, so motionless, Siegfried bent down\nand listened anxiously for the deep slow breathing. \u201cThis coat of mail\nmust weigh heavily on him; I will open it,\u201d he said. But in vain he\nsought to find a fastening: everywhere the iron rings closed tightly\nround. To Siegfried, who had never seen a soldier, and knew of no weapon\nsave a sword, this iron garment seemed a terrible inconvenience, almost\nas cumbersome as old Fafnir\u2019s scales. He determined to free the young\nwarrior, that he might at least sleep in comfort.\n\nSo, taking out his sword, he carefully cut through the rings of mail\ndown each side, and then lifted off the corselet and greaves. As he did\nso, great was his astonishment to see lying before him a maiden in soft\nflowing garments.\n\nHe started back. His heart beat wildly. This must be none other than the\nmaiden Brunhilda! Then he who had never known fear\u2014who laughed in the\nface of the terrible dragon\u2014quailed not before Wotan the mighty god, and\ndashed fearlessly through fire\u2014sank down trembling and afraid before the\nsleeping maiden.\n\n\u201cWhat is this feeling? Can _this_ be Fear?\u201d he cried.\n\n\u201cAwake! awake, O beautiful maid!\u201d he cried, kneeling at her side.\n\nStill she did not stir.\n\nBending over Brunhilda, Siegfried pressed his lips to hers.\n\nSlowly she opened her eyes. Siegfried started back. She sat up dazed and\nwondering. Then her eyes rested on him. For a moment neither moved. But\nthe silence between them said more than words, and though only a few\nbrief instants went by, much happened in the time. For Siegfried passed\nfrom boyhood to manhood, and Brunhilda passed from the land of dreams and\nshadows back to the warm living earth.\n\nAt last she spoke. \u201cHail, thou sunshine, and light, and lovely daytime!\nLong has been my sleep!\u201d Then, fixing shining eyes on Siegfried, \u201cAnd who\nart _thou_,\u201d she asked, \u201cwho hast awakened me out of my sleep?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am Siegfried. Through the flames I won my way to thee. My sword it has\ncut through thy armor, O most glorious maiden!\u201d\n\nBrunhilda gazed at him in wonder and delight. \u201cSiegfried! So thou art\nindeed Siegfried who hast awakened me? Siegfried, of whom in times long\npast I dreamed! My sun art thou, awakening me out of night and darkness!\u201d\n\nThese words made Siegfried happier than ever. Never had his highest hopes\nor wildest dreams pictured one so fair and noble as this goddess-maid.\nFor her sake what would he not do or dare?\n\nBut Brunhilda was now gazing sadly at her cast-off armor and shield on\nthe ground. Slowly the words of her father\u2019s curse were coming back to\nher. Never more to ride free through the heavens\u2014to be a mortal woman\nwedded to a mortal man!\n\nGently and sadly she pushed Siegfried from her side, and tried to turn\nhis thoughts from herself. \u201cSee there my faithful steed,\u201d she said,\npointing to Grani. \u201cHe also has been awakened by Siegfried the sun-god.\nOnce he bore me through the heavens, and shared my life among the gods\nof Valhalla. With me also he slept. See how joyfully he has come back to\nlife!\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d cried Brunhilda, growing ever more melancholy. \u201cSiegfried my\nhero, it is through you I forfeit my glorious estate! Brunhilda the\nValkyrie is no more\u2014she is dead indeed.\u201d\n\nSiegfried saw that a harder task yet remained to him than dashing through\nfire or cutting through steel, but he went on undaunted, for he felt\nhis new-found love strong and great enough to carry him through all\ndifficulties.\n\n\u201cThou sleepest still, my beloved. I have but opened thy glorious eyes.\nOh, wake, and rejoice that thou livest.\u201d\n\nSo spake Siegfried, and his passionate pleading turned at last, as a\nmagic key, the locked door of Brunhilda\u2019s proud heart, which to no god\nor man had yielded before. She turned to him and as Siegfried clasped\nher to his heart, Brunhilda renounced for ever all she had counted most\ndear\u2014all longings for the old free Valkyrie life, all dreams of bygone\nglory with the gods in Valhalla.\n\nNow that her heart was won, Brunhilda gave it all, once and for ever; and\na great and noble gift it was, worth any hero\u2019s winning, at any cost.\n\n\n\n\nTHE PLOT AGAINST THE BEAUTIFUL ELSA OF BRABANT\n\nBy Constance Maud\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived, in the ancient city of Antwerp, a beautiful\nmaiden called Elsa.\n\nShe dwelt in a grand old palace: the walls were thick as any fortress,\nand the towers looked proudly down on the town.\n\nElsa\u2019s father was the Duke of Brabant, a noble prince, who for long years\nhad faithfully served his liege lord, the King of Germany, and had won\nmuch honor to Brabant.\n\nElsa had an only brother, the young Prince Godfrey; and these two loved\neach other more than any other brother and sister in the world.\n\nOne day the duke was taken ill, so ill that he could no longer attend to\nthe affairs of state; and a few days later all Brabant knew that their\nbeloved duke lay dying.\n\nAs their mother had been dead many years, and they had no near relatives,\nthe duke then sent for his kinsman, Count Telramund. This man was\nimperious and hot-tempered, with manners uncouth as a bear; but he was\nbrave as a lion, and the duke had full confidence in his good heart and\nknightly honor.\n\nThe count hastened to obey the royal summons.\n\n\u201cMy trusted friend and kinsman, Frederick of Telramund,\u201d said the duke,\n\u201cI am dying. With my last breath I confide to thy care my beloved\nchildren, Elsa and Godfrey. Watch over them, protect them from all ill\ntill Godfrey be of an age to reign, and Elsa is married to a husband she\nloves. Until then, I appoint thee as Regent and Protector in Brabant.\u201d\n\nCount Telramund knelt by the side of the dying duke, and swore solemnly\nto fulfil the trust, and, if needs be, to lay down his life for the young\nprince and princess.\n\n\u201cThank Heaven!\u201d murmured the duke. \u201cAnd now, my cousin, is there aught\nthat I can do for thee, in return for so great a service?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cOh, most noble prince, there is one boon I would ask, were it not so\ngreat a gift I scarce dare even to name it!\u201d answered the count.\n\n\u201cWhatever thy wish, cousin, it is granted, if it be in my power to bestow\nit,\u201d said the duke readily. \u201cWhat is thy request?\u201d\n\n\u201cMost gracious sovereign,\u201d stammered the count, growing red to the roots\nof his tawny beard, \u201cI love the Princess Elsa\u2014wilt thou give her to me to\nbe my wife?\u201d\n\nElsa started. Without stirring, and her face deadly pale, she listened\nbreathlessly for her father\u2019s reply.\n\n\u201cGladly would I give my child to thy safe keeping, noble cousin. But in\nthis matter I must leave the maiden free to choose for herself. If she\naccept thy hand, thou hast my full consent and blessing. More than this\nI cannot say.\u201d\n\nThe count knelt and pressed his lips to the hand of the dying duke, who,\nblessing Telramund, sank back exhausted and bade him farewell.\n\nShortly after, the good prince died, at peace with all.\n\nElsa, heartbroken at her father\u2019s death, found her only consolation in\nher young brother Godfrey. For a long time she refused to see anyone else.\n\nCount Telramund often sought opportunity to speak with her, but she\navoided him with dread.\n\nThen Telramund changed his tone, and demanded her hand as his right, the\ndying bequest of her father the duke.\n\n\u201cMy father left me free,\u201d answered Elsa, indignant. \u201cNever would he wish\nme to give my hand where I could not give my heart also, sir count.\u201d\n\nNo woman, and very few men, had ever dared to contradict his wishes;\nsooner or later, he vowed, she should be his.\n\nNow there was a wicked lady, of a tall, commanding figure, dark and\nhandsome\u2014Ortruda by name. She was very learned, and had studied all\nmanner of sorceries, which enabled her to exert the magic power of a\nwitch. Her forefathers had once been mighty princes, who reigned over\nBrabant and all the countries round. She regarded Elsa and Godfrey as\nusurpers, holding what rightfully belonged to her; and she hated them\nwith a bitter hatred. Also, there was another and a deeper cause for her\nhatred towards Elsa; and that was, that she herself had long wished to\nmarry Count Telramund.\n\nOne day Telramund came to Ortruda and told her how Elsa had dared to\ndespise his love, and reject his hand. That he should confide in her\npleased Ortruda well; also that Elsa should refuse the count, though she\nloved her none the more for doing so.\n\n\u201cThe impertinent minx, to take on such airs!\u201d\n\nTelramund found comfort in Ortruda\u2019s indignation. His heart was set on\nmarrying Elsa, and he was willing to wait long if only he might win her\nin the end.\n\nWhen Ortruda saw this, she laid a deep plot, by means of which she hoped\nto turn his love from Elsa. In the depths of the forest was a lonely\ntower. Here Ortruda was wont to retire and study sorcery, for long days\nand nights together. She became at last so practiced, that she could by\nenchantments change people into different birds and beasts.\n\nOne day, Elsa and Godfrey were roaming together alone in the forest.\nOrtruda, always on the watch, followed them, unseen, at a distance. After\na while they sat down to rest by the side of a pool, whose still depths,\nit was said, no one had ever fathomed.\n\nPresently, Elsa and Godfrey were startled by hearing a piercing, pitiful\ncry, like that of some animal caught in a trap. Godfrey started up,\ncrying: \u201cI must go and free that poor beast! Rest here a while, Elsa; I\nwill return shortly.\u201d\n\nHe sprang lightly through the thickly growing bushes and trees, and was\nsoon hidden from sight.\n\nElsa waited by the pool, thinking of all the happy plans she and Godfrey\nhad been making for the future, when he would reign as duke. The trees\noverhead rustled strangely, and Elsa, looking up, saw a great white swan\ncircling round, and waving his wings wildly as though in distress. Then\nwith a sad cry, he flew away.\n\nElsa grew uneasy. Surely an hour must have passed, yet Godfrey had not\nreturned! She called aloud: \u201cGodfrey! Godfrey! where art thou?\u201d But there\nwas no answer save the echo of her own voice, which rang through the wood\nas though mocking her anxious cry.\n\nThen, in deadly fear, she started up and tried to trace his steps, but\nthe dense thicket left no track. Pale and trembling, Elsa returned at\nlast to the palace, and told how Godfrey had mysteriously disappeared.\n\nThat night the forest was searched from end to end with torches and\nlanterns, and all the following day the search continued, but not a trace\nof the missing boy could be found.\n\nTwo days after Godfrey\u2019s disappearance, Ortruda came to Telramund. She\nappeared in deep distress, saying she had something to reveal, and\ndared no longer keep silence. \u201cAlas!\u201d replied Ortruda, \u201cwhat I know\nis well-nigh too terrible to be spoken. Who will credit my dark tale?\nListen,\u201d she continued; \u201cthy search for Godfrey is useless.\u201d\n\n\u201cTwo days ago I sat alone meditating in my tower in the forest, when I\nespied Elsa and Godfrey sitting together by the pool\u2014that awful pool\nwhere, \u2019tis said, a drowning man may sink for a thousand years, yet never\ntouch the bottom. On a sudden I heard a cry, and looking, saw Elsa,\naided by a stranger, whose face was turned to me, push her young brother\nbackward into the dread pool.\u201d\n\n\u201cHorrible! most horrible!\u201d cried Telramund. \u201cThou sawest this with thine\nown eyes?\u201d\n\n\u201cI saw it with these same eyes, that will I swear, though it were with my\nlast breath!\u201d replied Ortruda.\n\n\u201cWho could dream that such black sin dwelt in one so young and fair!\u201d\n\n\u201cAy,\u201d said Ortruda, eyeing him askance; \u201cand knowing that thou lovedst\nher, I would have kept silence. But when thine enemies whispered\nthat thou, being next of kin, might thyself have caused the lad\u2019s\ndisappearance, then my love for thee made me bold to speak the dread\nsecret.\u201d\n\n\u201cI thank thee, Ortruda. Thou hast ever shown thyself my faithful friend,\u201d\nsaid Telramund. \u201cIt were better had I given my love to thee, instead of\nwasting it on one so unworthy.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy father\u2019s house once ruled in this land, and, in justice, should be\nruling still. Ah! were poor Ortruda queen, with what joy would she lay\nher kingdom at thy feet, noblest and bravest of men!\u201d\n\n\u201cThou art worthy to be a queen!\u201d cried Telramund, \u201cand that shalt thou\nbe, noble and wise Ortruda! For here do I swear to make thee my wife,\ninstead of her in whom I have been so woefully deceived. As for the\nmurderess, her cruel deed shall be brought to light. She shall be tried\nby our king, Henry of Germany, and both she and her base lover will\nassuredly be condemned to death.\u201d\n\nIn obedience to Telramund\u2019s orders, Elsa was then put under arrest, and\nplaced in a dark prison-cell, to await her trial before the king. She\nwas kept a close prisoner, no one save the followers of Telramund and\nOrtruda being allowed to come near her. In her grief and despair she\nknelt one night and prayed, one long bitter cry for help. And all at once\nher prayer seemed taken up, as though on angels\u2019 wings; above the narrow\nprison-cell\u2014up, up, till it pierced the utmost heights of the sky above.\nElsa listened till she heard the faint echo fade away far overhead. And,\nas she wondered what it might mean, a gentle sleep closed her eyes. She\ndreamt; and in her dream she saw a noble knight in shining silver armor.\nSwiftly through the air he came, and, descending to her prison-cell,\nstood by her side. No word did he speak, but with looks and signs he bade\nher banish all fear and sorrow, and trust in him, for he was sent by\nHeaven in answer to her cry.\n\nWhen Elsa woke, the bitterness of her grief had passed. The vision had\ndeparted, but she felt assured her prayer was heard, and that, sooner\nor later, the Heaven-sent knight of her dream would come and bring her\ndeliverance.\n\n\n\n\nTHE KNIGHTS OF THE HOLY GRAIL\n\nBy Constance Maud\n\n\nFar away, in the mountains of Spain, there dwelt a holy band of knights,\nvowed to the service of all those in distress or need.\n\nThe famous Knight Parsifal was at this time king of the Order, and under\nhis reign the Knights of the Holy Grail were unsurpassed for valor and\ntruth. When any cry of distress went up to Heaven, the great bells of the\nGrail temple would commence to swing slowly to and fro, and at this sign\nthe knights assembled in their temple, whatever the hour, day or night:\nthere the Holy Grail would reveal to them, in letters of fire, what\nservice was required.\n\nThe same night on which Elsa knelt in her prison-cell, far away in\nAntwerp, the mighty bells of Mount Salvat suddenly broke the stillness\nof the peaceful night. With Parsifal at their head, the brothers of the\nHoly Grail hastened to the temple. Among them was one Lohengrin, a young\nknight of most noble fame, son of Parsifal, the king.\n\nRound the altar knelt the knights; while the king mounted the steps and\ntook from a golden shrine the miraculous crystal Cup, known as the Holy\nGrail. A dazzling ray of light instantly streamed down from the dome\nabove the altar, lighting up the Cup, which then began to glow with\nletters of fire written round the brim. Parsifal held the Cup aloft, that\nall might read the message: \u201cThere is one falsely accused, in sore need\nand trouble\u2014the Princess Elsa of Brabant.\u201d So ran the writing on the Holy\nGrail. The glowing letters slowly faded and vanished.\n\nBut while the knights discussed among themselves which of them should\nat once depart for Brabant, the Cup again glowed with another message:\n\u201cLet Lohengrin, the son of Parsifal, make ready and depart. He it is,\nappointed to be her champion.\u201d\n\nLohengrin rejoiced greatly at being chosen. Kneeling before his father,\nhe craved a blessing before setting out on his journey. Then, buckling on\nhis armor and his sword, a golden horn slung round his neck, he mounted\nhis black charger, and rode off into the silent forest.\n\nOn he rode. The tall, dark pine trees met over his head; the silver moon\npeeped between the branches, lighting him on his way. All the forest\nslept. At length he came to the river which marked the boundary of the\nGrail dominions. He was about to ford the stream, when, to his amazement,\nhe beheld a boat, drawn by a snow-white swan, evidently awaiting him.\n\nLohengrin dismounted, and recognized the swan as a bird which had not\nlong since appeared among them, and taken up his abode with the knights.\nAs a white swan had always been held in good omen by the knights, the\nbird received a hearty welcome. And the more so when, shortly after his\narrival, the Grail revealed that the bird was none other than a youth\nof noble birth, the innocent victim of a wicked enchantment. Round the\nswan\u2019s neck was a fine gold chain of curious workmanship, with neither\nclasp nor fastening, so that no man could remove it without injury to the\nbird. From the day he appeared, the swan attached himself specially to\nLohengrin. He would follow him about like a dog, and often gazed into his\nface as though he longed to speak with him.\n\nSeeing this faithful bird awaiting him, Lohengrin asked him: \u201cWilt thou\nthat I go with thee, dear swan?\u201d The bird instantly bent his graceful\nhead, and spread wide his white wings, as though impatient to start.\nLohengrin then dismissed his horse, bidding him return to Mount Salvat,\nstepped into the boat, and the swan sailed away joyfully with him. Down\nthe river they floated swiftly. The swan seemed quite sure of his way.\nEven when they came at last to the sea, he never paused, but steered a\nsteady course right out of the bay, and away across the wide ocean.\n\n\n\n\nLOHENGRIN THE CHAMPION OF ELSA OF BRABANT\n\nBy Constance Maud\n\n\nIn the city of Antwerp great preparations were going forward.\n\nKing Henry of Germany had arrived in state, and had summoned all the\nministers and chief nobles of Brabant to appear before him.\n\nElsa, in her prison-cell, was wakened early with the news that she would\nbe tried this day before the king, in face of all the people.\n\nShe heard as though it scarce concerned her. Since the vision of the\nknight in shining armor, she no longer seemed to dwell in the dark\nprison. Her thoughts were far away, and she cared nothing for what took\nplace around her.\n\nIt was noon when the king, with his heralds, outriders, and a numerous\nretinue, proceeded in solemn state to the Judgment Oak. Mid the cheers\nand blessings of the people, he ascended a gorgeous throne prepared for\nhim.\n\nCount Telramund bowed low before the king. Then, in a clear ringing\nvoice, told his story, and made his accusation against Elsa, Princess of\nBrabant, of whose horrible crime he said he had, alas, convincing proof.\nHe then claimed the kingdom of Brabant for himself, as next of kin to the\nlate duke, and also in right of his noble wife Ortruda, whose fathers\nonce ruled in that land.\n\n\u201cNow, O most noble king, thou hast heard me fully,\u201d he concluded. \u201cNaught\nhave I spoken but the truth\u2014my oath upon it. Be thou our judge.\u201d\n\nThe crowd shuddered with horror at the story of Elsa\u2019s crime. Their\nown princess, so gentle and fair, the cruel murderess of her brother!\nImpossible! Yet who dare dispute it, since Count Telramund, whose honor\nno man could doubt, himself swore to the fact.\n\n\u201cWhat terrible accusation dost thou bring? Bid the accused appear!\u201d cried\nthe king. \u201cThe trial shall forthwith begin.\u201d\n\nThe herald blew his trumpet, and proclaimed the king\u2019s order. There\nwas a stir in the crowd. All eyes turned towards her as Elsa appeared,\nfollowed by her ladies. Slowly she walked to the foot of the throne,\ngazing before her like one in a dream.\n\n\u201cArt thou Elsa of Brabant?\u201d asked the king. Elsa bowed her head.\n\n\u201cDost thou know the charge that is brought against thee?\u201d he demanded\nsternly.\n\nAgain Elsa assented, dropping her head sadly, but without speaking.\n\n\u201cWhat answer canst thou make? Dost admit thy guilt?\u201d the king inquired.\n\nShe gazed around her with a bewildered air, as though trying to remember\nsomething long forgotten.\n\n\u201cAlas,\u201d she sighed, \u201cmy poor brother!\u201d\n\nThe people murmured: \u201c\u2019Tis marvellous! What can it mean?\u201d\n\n\u201cSpeak, Elsa!\u201d urged the king, wondering at her strange behavior. \u201cDost\nthou not trust in thy king?\u201d\n\nThen Elsa spoke in a low gentle voice, as to herself when alone in the\nprison: \u201cIn my misery I knelt one night and besought God\u2019s aid. My woeful\ncry seemed all at once caught up to the highest heaven. I listened\nwondering, then peace fell on my spirit, and a gentle sleep came over me.\u201d\n\nThe King thought Elsa\u2019s mind was certainly affected, whether from\nbrooding on her crime, or on her innocence and the injustice of her\nimprisonment, he could not tell. \u201cCome, Elsa,\u201d he said, in a rousing\ntone, \u201cdefend thyself now before the judge.\u201d\n\nBut Elsa appeared neither to hear nor understand, and continued her dream\nwith a look of rapture: \u201cBorne through the air he came\u2014a knight of such\nperfection and nobility never yet I saw! Clothed in glittering armor\u2014in\nhis hand a sword\u2014slung round his neck a golden horn! No word he spake,\nbut gazed on me tenderly. Peace and comfort came to me with his look.\nThat knight will be my champion and deliverer!\u201d\n\nThe king was sorely perplexed. This dreamy maiden hardly seemed like a\ncriminal. Looking at the sad, fair face of the prisoner, he could not\nfind it in his heart to believe her guilty. Yet he held the count, as a\ntrue and honorable knight, incapable of falsehood; one who had, besides,\nrisked his life for king and country.\n\nTurning to the count, he then asked solemnly: \u201cFrederick of Telramund,\nwilt thou in mortal combat let Heaven\u2019s ordeal decide thine accusation as\ntrue or false?\u201d\n\n\u201cYea, that will I, O king,\u201d answered Telramund, with proud confidence.\n\n\u201cAnd thee also, I ask, Elsa of Brabant, wilt thou abide by Heaven\u2019s\ndecree in the mortal combat that shall be fought for thy cause?\u201d\n\nElsa\u2019s eyes were fixed on the far distance. \u201cYea, that will I,\u201d she\nreplied slowly.\n\n\u201cWhat champion shall defend thee?\u201d asked the king.\n\n\u201cThat knight whom Heaven sent me! He and none other shall be my\nchampion,\u201d replied Elsa. \u201cAnd this is the reward I offer. He shall wear\nmy father\u2019s crown, and high honor I shall deem it to give to him my land,\nmy wealth, and my hand.\u201d\n\n\u201cA prize worth fighting for!\u201d murmured the people. Their hearts beat\ntrue to their princess, in spite of appearances against her.\n\n\u201cLet the summons go forth!\u201d cried the king.\n\nThe heralds and trumpeters then marched to the outposts and proclaimed\nthe challenge, so that all might hear it, far and near: \u201cLet him who will\nfight in mortal combat for Elsa of Brabant now appear!\u201d There was a long\npause, and breathless silence followed. The echo of the trumpet\u2019s blast\ndied away into the distance. But no one appeared in answer to the call.\nElsa listened, looking round on all sides, with anxious, expectant gaze.\n\u201cO gracious king,\u201d implored Elsa, \u201cI beseech thee let the call go forth\nonce again to summon my knight. He dwells so far he has not heard.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet the summons go forth yet once more,\u201d he ordered. Again the heralds\nproclaimed the challenge.\n\nThere followed a longer pause and a longer silence. No one stirred.\nThe people scarcely seemed to breathe, so great was the suspense and\nexpectation.\n\nElsa fell on her knees, while her maidens closed round as though to\nprotect her. \u201cO Lord,\u201d she cried, \u201csend my knight speedily, I beseech\nthee. Once, at Thy command, he came to me. Oh, send him now again. Tell\nhim of my sore need,\u201d she implored in despair. Her women knelt also,\nweeping and praying.\n\nSuddenly a cry went up from the people standing near the river-bank:\n\u201cSee! A wondrous sight! A swan! a swan drawing a boat! And, standing in\nthe prow, behold a knight in shining armor. Lo, he comes with utmost\nspeed!\u201d All rushed forward eagerly to see.\n\nThe king from his throne looked towards the river and beheld the amazing\nsight. Elsa, on her knees, listened spellbound, in a transport of joy.\nFrederick of Telramund, struck dumb with awe and astonishment, looked at\nOrtruda. Her face had turned to an ashen hue. Her glittering eyes were\ndull, as though the light within had suddenly gone out. She gazed at the\nswan with greater terror than had he been a dragon.\n\n\u201c\u2019Tis a miracle! A miracle of Heaven!\u201d exclaimed the men.\n\nThe women, on their knees, cried joyfully: \u201cOh, God be thanked, who hast\nheard our prayer! Hail to the Heaven-sent one who comes to save the\nguiltless!\u201d\n\nThe boat had now reached the bank. Lohengrin stepped lightly to land,\nand then turned lovingly to the swan: \u201cMy thanks to thee, beloved swan,\u201d\nhe said. \u201cReturn now o\u2019er the waters to the blessed land from whence we\ncame. Faithfully hast thou fulfilled thy task. Farewell, beloved swan.\u201d\n\nHe gazed sadly after his faithful companion, as the swan slowly turned\nand swam away.\n\nThe crowd made way for him eagerly, as Lohengrin advanced to the king\u2019s\nthrone and bowed low. As he raised his head, Elsa turned, and uttered a\ncry of joy at beholding no other than the knight of her vision.\n\n\u201cHail, royal Henry! May the blessing of Heaven ever rest on thee!\u201d said\nLohengrin.\n\n\u201cWelcome, sir knight!\u201d replied the king graciously. \u201cSurely by a miracle\ndivine thou art come to this land?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have been sent, O king, to fight for the honor of an innocent maiden,\nin sore need and distress,\u201d answered Lohengrin. Then, going before Elsa,\nhe asked her: \u201cWilt thou trust thy cause to me, O Elsa of Brabant? Wilt\nthou take me for thy champion without doubt or fear?\u201d\n\nElsa raised her eyes to his. \u201cMy deliverer, my knight\u2014with my whole heart\ndo I trust thee!\u201d she answered. Lohengrin knelt and, taking her hand in\nhis, asked: \u201cAnd if, with Heaven\u2019s help, I win this fight for thee, wilt\nthou consent to be my bride?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am thine\u2014thine only, my knight. All I have I give thee gladly!\u201d said\nElsa, with shining eyes.\n\n\u201cOne promise wilt thou give me?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo thee will I promise anything,\u201d Elsa answered readily.\n\n\u201cThen if thou desirest, as I, that nothing part us ever\u2014that thy people\nand thy country become from henceforth my people and my country\u2014never\nshalt thou ask of me my name and race, or whence I come,\u201d said Lohengrin\nearnestly.\n\n\u201cNever will I seek to know thy secret. Thy love is enough for me\u2014naught\nelse do I desire!\u201d\n\n\u201cBut Elsa, think well what it is I ask,\u201d urged Lohengrin. \u201cNever must\nthou desire this knowledge, and never must this secret between us cause\nthee sadness.\u201d\n\nElsa was troubled that Lohengrin repeated his request. There was nothing\nin the world she would not gladly grant to him\u2014her champion, her\ndeliverer. \u201cThou hast never doubted my innocence,\u201d she answered. \u201cDost\nthou not trust in me? And shall not I also trust in thee, my knight,\nwhate\u2019er thou askest of me?\u201d\n\nThen Lohengrin stood forth, and, in a ringing voice that all might hear,\nproclaimed: \u201cHear now, all ye people, and ye nobles of Brabant! I hereby\ndeclare, before Heaven and before all men, by my honor as a knight, that\nfree from every shadow of guilt is the maiden Elsa, Princess of Brabant.\nFalse and unfounded is thy black charge, Frederick of Telramund, and that\nwill I prove by Heaven\u2019s ordeal!\u201d\n\nTelramund advanced with angry mien and flashing eyes: \u201cWhat magic brought\nthee here, sir stranger, I know not. Thy talk is bold enough! But my\nanswer is not in words. This, my good sword, shall defend mine honor. May\nvictory be to right and truth, say I!\u201d\n\nLohengrin turned towards the throne: \u201cWe await thy command, O king, to\ncommence the combat.\u201d\n\nThe king ordered the fighting-ring to be measured; and this being done,\nhe then besought Heaven that in this fight victory might be, not as in\nother fights, to skill and strength, but to the one on whose side was\nright. And all the people fervently echoed the good king\u2019s prayer.\n\nScarce a breath could be heard. Every eye was fixed on the gleaming\nswords, as they cut the air like flashes of lightning, and clashed with\nsharp, ringing strokes.\n\nA few intense moments, which seemed to Elsa\u2019s beating heart a very\neternity; then a crash of falling armor, a wild shout from the people,\nand the fight was over.\n\nTelramund had fallen; over him, like an angel of judgment, stood\nLohengrin. \u201cThrough Heaven\u2019s victory, thy life is mine!\u201d he cried. \u201cI\ngive it thee again, that thou mayest use it for repentance.\u201d\n\n\u201cVictory, victory! Hail to the hero!\u201d shouted a thousand glad voices.\n\n\u201cThe victory I owe to thy innocence alone,\u201d said Lohengrin to Elsa. \u201cAll\nthat thou hast suffered shall now be atoned to thee.\u201d Then Lohengrin\nand Elsa were lifted on the shields of the nobles, and all the people\nmarched round them in a triumphal procession, shouting a hymn of joyful\nthanksgiving, in which the good King Henry himself joined lustily.\n\nOnly Ortruda and the defeated Telramund stood sullenly apart. \u201cWoe is\nme! Mine honor and fame are undone,\u201d muttered the count. \u201cIt would seem\nindeed that Heaven is against me.\u201d\n\nOrtruda, with clenched hands, asked herself in dismay: \u201cWho can this be?\nBefore whom even I feel my powers weaken! Who? and from whence?\u201d\n\n\n\n\nORTRUDA PLOTS FOR REVENGE\n\nBy Constance Maud\n\n\nThe stars came out in the deep blue sky of night, waiting for the summer\nmoon.\n\nThe stately walls of the royal palace of Antwerp threw mysterious shadows\nall around. And in the darkness of these shadows crept two figures\nstealthily. They seated themselves at length under a tree which faced the\nwindows of the Princess Elsa\u2019s apartments.\n\nLooking up, they saw a light still burning.\n\nThen they talked together earnestly in muffled tones.\n\nBy and by the moon arose, and cast her silvery light about, shifting the\nshadows according to her royal pleasure.\n\nThe two dark figures, a man and a woman, moved with the shadows, still\nkeeping close to the palace. They took no thought of rest or sleep that\nnight.\n\nThe man looked at the woman, and shuddered.\n\nThe woman turned to the man, a scornful light in her eyes. She was for\naction, and despised useless regrets and groans.\n\n\u201cFrederick of Telramund, why dost thou mistrust me?\u201d she asked quietly.\n\n\u201cWhy?\u201d he cried wrathfully. \u201cWas it not on thy false word that I accused\nthe guiltless, and condemned an innocent maid? Thou who didst swear that\nthine own eyes beheld her murder the youthful Godfrey!\u201d\n\n\u201cDost thou know who is this mysterious hero, drawn hither across the sea\nby a wild swan?\u201d she asked.\n\n\u201cNay, I know not,\u201d he answered.\n\n\u201cHearken now to me,\u201d said Ortruda. \u201cIt is forbidden him to reveal either\nhis name or country. That, his own words allowed. The reason I will tell\nthee. Should he do so, all his magic power instantly vanishes. There is\nbut one person who can tear his secret from him\u2014she whom he so strictly\nforbade to ask him.\u201d\n\n\u201cHa! Elsa! She must be made to do this!\u201d cried Telramund eagerly. Ortruda\nlooked at him and smiled. Her smile was very terrible. \u201cIf thou wilt\nbe but silent and watchful, thou shalt taste the sweets of revenge.\nBut\u2014hist!\u201d\n\nThe window opposite opened softly. Ortruda and Telramund drew back\nfarther into the shadow. A white-robed figure came out on the balcony.\n\nOrtruda whispered in Telramund\u2019s ear: \u201cGo thou, and leave her alone with\nme,\u201d and Frederick withdrew.\n\n\u201cElsa!\u201d cried a wailing, miserable voice.\n\nElsa started. \u201cWho calls me?\u201d\n\n\u201cIs my voice so strange to thee?\u201d answered Ortruda piteously. \u201cWilt thou\nrepulse one in sore distress?\u201d\n\n\u201cOrtruda! Thou! What doest thou here, and at this hour, unhappy woman?\u201d\nasked Elsa, in surprise.\n\n\u201cAh, woe is me!\u201d moaned Ortruda. \u201cWhat have I done, that such dark\ntrouble should fall on me? How different thy fate! After a brief time\nof trouble, every cloud has vanished, and life smiles gloriously before\nthee.\u201d\n\n\u201cMost unworthy should I be of my great happiness, could I spurn one in\nmisery such as thine, Ortruda. Come! I myself will open the door to you.\u201d\n\n\u201cOrtruda, where art thou?\u201d called the gentle voice of Elsa, opening the\ndoor.\n\n\u201cHere at thy feet!\u201d replied Ortruda, throwing herself down before the\nwhite-robed figure.\n\n\u201cKneel not to me, I beseech thee, Ortruda,\u201d cried Elsa, much distressed.\n\u201cThou, whom I have always beheld in pride and magnificence! Freely I\nforgive thee. And if in aught thou hast suffered through my fault, I pray\nthee pardon me in like manner.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow can I thank thee for such gracious favor?\u201d returned Ortruda, in\ntones of great humility. \u201cAnd for thy husband Telramund,\u201d continued Elsa,\n\u201cI will beseech my noble bridegroom on the morrow, that he show him grace\nand pardon. So let me see thee once more restored to happiness. Arrayed\nin thy robe of state, come thou with me to the minister, where our\nmarriage will to-morrow be celebrated before God and all men.\u201d\n\n\u201cThou loadest me with chains of gratitude,\u201d said Ortruda. \u201cOnly one way\nis there in which I may perhaps repay thee\u2014by my knowledge of the hidden\narts I may be able to protect thy life, and warn thee should grave danger\narise.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat meanest thou?\u201d asked Elsa, in astonishment.\n\n\u201cTrust not thy happiness too blindly,\u201d replied Ortruda darkly, \u201clest some\nevil entrap thee unawares.\u201d Ortruda drew closer, and lowered her voice:\n\u201cDost know by what magic art _he_ came to thee?\u201d\n\n\n\n\nTHE DEPARTURE OF LOHENGRIN\n\nBy Constance Maud\n\n\nIt was Princess Elsa\u2019s wedding-day.\n\nThe sober old city of Antwerp had blossomed out in colors gay as a spring\ngarden, with banners, ribbons, garlands of flowers, and triumphal arches.\n\nNot a burgher or a prentice but kept holiday.\n\nRoyal weddings were not an everyday sight, more especially when the bride\nwas a princess of such beauty and virtue, and the bridegroom a knight who\nhad risked his life for her sake.\n\nEvery maid in Antwerp would gladly have gone through fire and water just\nfor a sight of the knight in silver armor. Greatly were those envied who\nhad seen him arrive, drawn by the snow-white swan.\n\nThe bells of the old cathedral rang out a joyful chime. From every\nquarter came a stream of people, all hurrying to secure the best places\nfrom which to see the bridal procession. Guarding the entrance of the\ncathedral, on either side, were stationed knights and nobles in full\ncourt dress, ablaze with medals and decorations, helmets and waving\nplumes.\n\n\u201cShe comes! She comes! Make way for the bride,\u201d sang a chorus of voices.\nAnd Elsa appeared, more beautiful than a spring morning. Little children,\nclad in white, strewed her path with flowers. Maidens of high degree\nfollowed, bearing her bridal train. Never had a fairer, happier maid\npassed through the ancient doorway to become a bride.\n\n[Illustration: \u201cTHROUGH HEAVEN\u2019S VICTORY, THY LIFE IS MINE!\u201d\u2014page 158\n\n_From the painting by Ferdinand Leeke_]\n\nSmiling and bowing graciously, Elsa ascended the cathedral steps, when\nsuddenly her way was barred by a tall commanding figure, who pushed\nthrough the astonished crowd and stood before her. It was Ortruda.\n\n\u201cBack, I say!\u201d she cried wrathfully. \u201cThinkest thou that I am going to\nfollow thee, like a serving-maid! No longer will I suffer it! The time\nhas come when thou shalt bow before me!\u201d\n\nThe attendants and courtiers stood aghast. \u201cThe woman must be mad!\u201d they\nexclaimed to one another.\n\nElsa could scarce believe that this was the same Ortruda who, a few hours\nbefore, had knelt in the dust at her feet.\n\nPale and trembling she cried:\n\n\u201cOrtruda! Is it possible? What has happened to change thee thus terribly?\u201d\n\nOrtruda gave a mocking laugh.\n\n\u201cThinkest thou,\u201d she answered, \u201cthat because I foolishly forgot my high\nposition and my worth for one short hour, I must forever after approach\nthee crawling? My lord was first in all the land! Not a foe but feared\nhis sword, not a tongue but spake his praise. But thy hero! No man ever\nheard of him! Thou thyself canst not even give him a name.\u201d\n\nThe people murmured indignantly:\n\n\u201cWill no man silence this slanderous woman?\u201d\n\nBut all trembled, remembering her reputation as a witch, and not daring\nto brave her wrath.\n\nFortunately at this moment appeared the king\u2019s outriders, followed by the\nroyal bodyguard, and King Henry himself, riding side by side with the\nbridegroom.\n\n\u201cWhat! Ho!\u201d cried the king, looking at the threatening figure standing\nacross the bride\u2019s path. \u201cWho dares to make strife on a wedding morn?\u201d\n\nLohengrin hastened to Elsa\u2019s side. \u201cWhat do I see? Why is this terrible\nwoman near thee?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cOh, my deliverer, protect me from her! Pardon me, that I forgot thy\nwarning. Seeing her in misery at my door last night, I took her in.\nBehold now how she turns on me, and mocks me for my trust in thee!\u201d\n\nLohengrin stood between Ortruda and the trembling Elsa. \u201cBegone, thou\nfearful woman!\u201d he cried. \u201cCarry elsewhere thy poison. Here is no soil in\nwhich it can take root.\u201d\n\n\u201cHold there!\u201d cried a loud harsh voice. \u201cO king, hearken, I pray. Greatly\nhast thou been deceived. The combat was no Heaven\u2019s ordeal, for, by the\nevil power of magic, justice was turned aside. Here, before all men,\nI challenge him, the impostor, to declare his name and race, and from\nwhere he came, drawn hither by that unholy bird. If he dare not say,\nmethinks it looks bad for his knightly truth and honor! I appeal to thee,\nillustrious prince! Demand thou a reply from this unknown hero. He will\nscarcely dare to call thee unworthy of his answer.\u201d\n\nLohengrin confronted the wrathful Telramund: \u201cAll honor would I ever show\nto his most illustrious majesty; but there is one only to whom I am\nbound to reveal my secret\u2014that one is Elsa, my bride.\u201d\n\nLohengrin feared for one dread moment that the wicked Ortruda\u2019s poison\nhad, after all, begun to work. One moment only; then, to his joy, Elsa\nraised her head, and shaking off all doubt, she cried: \u201cWhat he keeps\nsecret, that he does in wisdom. She whom he has saved, shall she not\ntrust him?\u201d\n\nAnd the king added heartily: \u201cMy hero, pay no regard to evil-speakers.\nThou art too far above them for such to tarnish thy spotless fame.\u201d\n\nThe nobles then pressed round Lohengrin, assuring him of their trust and\ndevotion, even though he should never see fit to reveal his name; and the\nwedding procession entered the cathedral in solemn state.\n\nWhen the wedding-feast was over and the wedding-guests had gone, Elsa and\nLohengrin sat at the window, looking out on the starlit night.\n\nElsa sighed. A tiny cloud crept over her heart at the thought that she\nknew no name by which to call her love.\n\nLohengrin noticed it and strove to turn her thoughts from the dangerous\nsubject. But Elsa continued, as though forced to return to it: \u201cAh show\nthou thinkest me worthy of thy trust! Now that we are alone, tell me thy\nsecret and let it be buried in my heart, safe, where never the world can\nreach it.\u201d\n\n\u201cHave I not shown thee highest trust?\u201d answered Lohengrin. \u201cI have\ntrusted in thy promise. Now my greatest joy is in thy love. It is the\nonly reward I ask for all I have left behind. For not out of night and\nsorrow did I come to thee, but out of light and glory.\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d cried Elsa. \u201cThen art thou farther removed, and I yet more\nunworthy, than e\u2019er I dreamt! Any day may rob me of thee! Ere long thou\nwilt surely regret thy humble choice, and long after thy departed glory.\u201d\nTears blinded her eyes. Lohengrin saw, too late, that what he had told\nher but increased her doubt and unhappiness. She longed now more than\never to be trusted with his secret.\n\n\u201cThe fear lest thou depart will haunt me day and night! Who is this\nunknown one? Whence comes he?\u201d No peace now for Elsa, day or night, until\nshe can answer.\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d she cried, \u201cit was by a miracle thou camest here! Thy path is\nhidden, like thyself, in mystery. Thy life is divided from mine by a\ncloud.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, look!\u201d she cried, clutching wildly Lohengrin\u2019s arm. \u201cSee the swan?\nHe comes! There\u2014down the river! He brings the boat! Thou hast called him!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, Elsa, cease this madness!\u201d cried Lohengrin, in despair.\n\n\u201cNothing can give me peace again, till I know\u2014even though it cost me my\nlife\u2014who thou art, and whence thou comest.\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d groaned Lohengrin, covering his face with his hands.\n\nSo absorbed were they both, that they did not hear the stealthy tread\nupon the stair, nor the low, muffled voices outside the door.\n\nSuddenly there was a crash. The door was broken open, and a group of dark\nfigures, cloaked and masked, barred the passage, while one of the number\nrushed towards Lohengrin, drawing his naked sword.\n\nIt was the work of an instant. Lohengrin had but time to seize his sword,\nwhen the stalwart figure closed with him.\n\nIn the flickering torchlight, he parried the foe\u2019s first deadly thrust,\nand before he had time for a second, the trusty sword of Lohengrin had\npierced to his traitorous heart. With a deep groan he fell back, and Elsa\nbeheld, as she suspected, the face of Frederick of Telramund.\n\nHearing the noise, Elsa\u2019s attendants and guards now crowded into the\nroom. The dark masked figures had fled on seeing their master fall.\n\nLohengrin turned to the guards, and bade them bear the body of Telramund\nbefore the king\u2019s judgment-seat.\n\nThen to Elsa\u2019s attendants, who supported their fainting mistress, he said\nsadly: \u201cMake her ready to appear before the king. There I will meet her,\nand answer her question\u2014Who I am, and from whence I come?\u201d\n\nAt noon next day, King Henry held a review of his troops.\n\nBefore leaving Antwerp, the king desired to collect forces for a war\nagainst the savage Drohns, who were threatening the peace of Germany. The\nking counted greatly on Lohengrin\u2019s help, for never had he seen one more\nfitted to command and lead his troops.\n\nBut now the appointed hour had come, and still the king waited for the\narrival of the knight.\n\nPresently all were startled by the appearance of a solemn procession,\nbearing in their midst the body of a dead man. \u201cMake way!\u201d whispered the\ncrowd, awestruck. \u201cThese are the followers of Telramund.\u201d\n\nClose on them followed Elsa and her ladies. Alas, how changed from the\nhappy bride of yesterday!\n\n\u201cAh, here he comes! Our hero!\u201d cried the people, as Lohengrin at length\nappeared. \u201cWelcome, sir knight,\u201d said the king. \u201cWe look to thee to lead\nthese brave troops on to victory.\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas, my lord the king!\u201d answered Lohengrin, \u201cit is not possible for me\nnow to lead thy soldiers, as I hoped.\u201d\n\n\u201cHeaven help us! What means this?\u201d cried the king, dismayed, not only at\nLohengrin\u2019s words, but by his sad, solemn bearing.\n\n\u201cFirst, I ask thy righteous judgment, before all the people, concerning\nthis man.\u201d He pointed to the body of Telramund. \u201cIn the middle of the\nnight, he fell on me unawares. Was I right in that I slew him?\u201d\n\n\u201cThy hand was but the instrument of a just Heaven in so slaying him!\u201d\nreplied the king, sternly regarding the dead traitor.\n\n\u201cYe heard all how she, my bride, gave me her promise, that never would\nshe ask who I am or from whence I came. Now, alas! she has broken that\npromise\u2014she has listened to traitorous counsel! Now hear, all ye people,\nwhether my secret is one to be ashamed of before king, nobles, and the\nworld!\u201d Lohengrin raised his voice till it rang on all sides like a\nclarion.\n\n\u201cIn the distant land, far from hence, is a mountain named Mount Salvat.\nIn the midst stands a temple; none on earth can compare with its\nmagnificence. Therein is guarded a sacred treasure, brought thither\nyears ago by an angel-host. It is the Holy Grail. The knight who serves\nthe Grail derives divine strength from the power of its might. Before\nhim evil flies, and death itself is vanquished. Even when far away in\ndistant lands, so long as the knight remains unknown, the Grail still\nrenews his strength. But the working of the Holy Grail must ever remain\nveiled. Once the source of mystery is revealed, the blessings granted\nmust be withdrawn\u2014such is the Grail\u2019s command. I was hither sent to you\nby order of the Grail. My father is Parsifal, the king\u2014I am his warrior,\nLohengrin!\u201d\n\nElsa listened like one hearing her death-sentence. Had not her ladies\nsupported her, she must have fallen.\n\n\u201cOh, Elsa,\u201d he cried mournfully, \u201cwhy didst thou tear my secret from me?\nNow, alas, we are parted forever!\u201d\n\n\u201cThe swan! The swan!\u201d cried a chorus of voices near the bank of the river.\n\nElsa turned to look, and there, sailing swiftly towards them, came the\nsnow-white swan, drawing the small boat in which the shining knight had\narrived.\n\n\u201cOh, my Elsa,\u201d he said, \u201cthe Grail has sent for me\u2014I dare not tarry. One\nyear only, and I might have had the joy of seeing thee again united to\nthy long-lost brother. For he is not dead, and by the might of the Grail\nhe was then to be restored to thee. Now hearken. Should he return, give\nhim these\u2014my sword and horn and ring. The sword will bring him victory\nin battle, the horn will bring him help in time of need, and the ring\nhe shall wear in memory of me. Farewell, my beloved bride; farewell\nforever!\u201d\n\n\n\n\nTHE WOOING OF THE DAUGHTER OF THE KING OF IRELAND\n\n_From the Gudrun Lay_\n\n\nWhen Hettel, the young King of Denmark, but newly crowned, was minded\nto take him a wife, he sent and gathered together his high vassals and\nlieges to his palace in Hegelingen to give him counsel.\n\nAnd Morung of Nifland said to the king: \u201cThere is one maiden that for\ncomeliness surpasseth all others in the world: that is Hilda, daughter of\nwild Hagen, King of Ireland; and she is peerless.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat may be so,\u201d answered the king, \u201cbut Hagen is waxed so proud\nthat there is no dealing with him by fair words; and many kings and\nyarls which sought to carry her off by strength of arm now sleep the\nsword-sleep because of her.\u201d\n\nThen spake the sweet-voiced Horant: \u201cFull well I know the maiden. She\nis radiant as the soft new snow beneath the dawn. Stern is her father,\nand cruel as the north wind that tears the clouds and breaks the sea,\nand shakes the pines in his fists. Wherefore if the king must send a\nmessenger, let him not choose me.\u201d Frute spake also: \u201cNeither am I fain\nto go upon this errand. But let the king send and summon Yarl Wate of\nSturmen; he is more reckless than any man, and heedeth no living thing.\u201d\n\nBut when Yarl Wate was come before the king, and understood what was\nrequired of him, he was but ill-pleased, and said: \u201cI ween Horant and\nFrute to have counseled thee in this, and to have done in no friendly\nwise toward me. Howbeit I am not the man to pick an enterprise that hath\nno peril in it. I will go. But since Horant and Frute esteem my life so\nlightly, they shall go likewise.\u201d\n\nThen Yrolt of Ortland and Morung said: \u201cIt is well spoken; and inasmuch\nas it behooveth none to hang back when brave men take their lives in\ntheir hands, we also will go with them.\u201d\n\nSo the king made ready a great ship of cypress wood, in fashion like a\ndragon. It was all aglow with golden scales; the anchor was of silver,\nand the steering paddle overlaid with gold. Within he furnished it\nabundantly with victual for the voyage, with armor and raiment, and\npresents of great price.\n\nThen Yarl Wate and Morung, Horant and Frute and Yrolt, entered into the\nship with seven hundred of their men. They drew aloft the embroidered\nsail; a fair wind arose and bore them out of harbor. For many days they\ntilled the barren sea-fields, until weary of sea toil they saw the\nwelcome land, and steered in for Castle Balian, where Hagen the king kept\ncourt.\n\nBeing come to shore, Horant and Yrolt took precious jewels in their hands\nworth many thousand marks, and leaving their men hidden in the ship, came\nto King Hagen, saying: \u201cBehold we have voyaged from a far country where\nwe have heard of thy fame, and we pray thee take these presents at our\nhands.\u201d Hagen looked at the jewels and marvelled at their great worth.\nHe said: \u201cWhat kings are ye, and whence have you come with all this\ntreasure.\u201d\n\nHorant answered, saying: \u201cBanished folk are we. Hast thou not heard of\nHattel, who is king in Hegelingen, and of his might and majesty, of\nthe battles he has fought and the riches he has gathered together? He\ndespiseth such as we, and being well befriended careth nothing for his\nmen. Wherefore a few of us, weary of his overbearing ways, have left\nhim seeking service.\u201d Then said Hagen: \u201cYe shall abide with me\u201d; and he\ncommanded to make ready lodgings for them in the city.\n\nBut Horant and Yrolt gave gold away so lavishly to all within the city\nthat the people said, \u201cOf a truth these must be the richest kings of the\nearth.\u201d\n\nAnd the fair Hilda hearing of it desired greatly to see these strangers;\nwherefore her father bade them to a feast.\n\nThe Danish knights came at his bidding, arrayed most sumptuously. And the\nfeast being over, and the wine outpoured, the queen and Hilda left the\ntable, desiring that the guests might be brought to them in the inner\nchamber. First Yarl Wate went in, a huge and burly man, with a great\nrough beard and brawny hands. But when the queen bade him sit between her\nand the princess he blushed and stammered, and then blundered shamefaced\nto the seat. \u201cThou art strangely ill at ease in company of ladies,\u201d\nsaid the queen. \u201cAye, mistress,\u201d said Yarl Wate, \u201cI am not oversmooth of\ntongue. I am not skilled to lisp about the weather. What shall I say?\nThis seat is soft enough. I never mind me to have sat so soft before,\nnor to have wrought so hard in doing it. By my life, good ladies!\u201d he\ncried upstarting, \u201ca good day\u2019s battle with a brisk enemy never wearied\nme so much, or made me deem myself so great a fool.\u201d Hilda and her mother\nlaughed pleasantly at his bluff behavior, and sought to put him at his\nease; but Wate would have no more; he strode off to the hall among the\nking and his men, and in an hour or so became himself again. For the\nking won on him. Hagen\u2019s big voice, his battle knowledge, and his love\nof fight, opened Yarl Wate\u2019s heart, and the two were soon made friends.\nBut for the women, there was none in their esteem like the sweet-voiced\nHorant. He was fair to look upon as a woman, yet had no lack of courage\nin the battle time. His wit was quick; and when he talked his face was in\na glow at sight of the strange pictures in his mind, whereby he likened\nthings to one another in curious sort, so that all which heard him\nwondered and were glad.\n\nNow Hagen spake much with Wate concerning sword play, and the mystery\nthereof. So presently Yarl Wate besought the king to appoint him a master\nof fence to teach him a little of it, because fencing after their manner\nwas a thing in which he was little learned. Then King Hagen sent for the\nbest fence master that he had, and set him to teach Yarl Wate the rules\nof sword play. But quickly losing patience at the long list of early\nrules which the fence master laid down, Hagen caught the foil from out\nhis hands crying: \u201cAway with you! Why all this stuff? In four strokes I\nwill teach this man to use a sword.\u201d\n\nSo the king fell to with Wate, whom, however, he very soon found an\nexceeding skilful master of fence. Thereat being somewhat angry, he\nstruck in fiercely; and they both carried on the sport till the buttons\nflew off the foils; yet neither gat the better of the other. Then Hagen\nthrowing down his foil cried: \u201cIn sooth, never saw I youth learn so\nquickly.\u201d And Yrolt said: \u201cThere is very little wherein the serving men\nof our lord\u2019s country are not already learned.\u201d\n\nSo as Yarl Wate and his fellows abode continually at the king\u2019s court\nand feasted with him every day, it befell once on a time, when night\nwas past and the day had begun to dawn, that Horant arose and tuned his\nvoice to a song. The birds, waking in the hedges, had begun to sing, but\nhearing music sweeter than theirs, they held their peace. Ever higher and\nsweeter Horant lifted his song till it rang about the palace; and all the\nsleepers dreamed of Baldur and his home in Ganzblick in the sky.\n\nSoon they woke; nor were they sorry to lose their dreams at hearing\nHorant\u2019s song. Hagen heard it and rose up from his bed. Hilda and her\nmaidens heard it, and arose. Men and women came thronging to thank the\nsinger; but when they came the song was done. Yet none the more would the\nbirds begin their lays; they had lost their notes from wonder.\n\nThen Hilda besought her father that by any means he should constrain\nHorant to sing again. And Hagen being no less crazed with the song,\nrecked not for aught else, and he promised the singer a thousand pounds\nof gold by weight if he would sing again at eve.\n\nAt evening Horant sang. The people filled the hall and flocked about the\ncastle for a great space. The sick came thither and remembered their\npains no more.\n\nThe beasts in the forest and the cattle in the fields left their food;\nthe worms forgat to go in the grass, and the fishes left swimming in\nthe sea. And when the song was done and the folk went their ways, they\nheard the minster choirs and the chiming of the bells, but took no more\npleasure in them.\n\nHilda sent twelve purses of gold to Horant, entreating him to come and\nsing to her in her chamber. The singer came and sang the song of Amile,\nthe like whereof no man had ever heard save on the wild flute. No gold\nwas ever so good. The maiden laid her hand within the singer\u2019s and bade\nhim choose whatever he listed for a song-gift. He said: \u201cI pray thee give\nme but the girdle from thy waist, that I may take it to my master.\u201d She\nasked: \u201cWho is thy master?\u201d He answered: \u201cNo banished men are we, but\nservants of Hettel, King of Denmark, come to woo thee for his bride.\u201d\nThen Hilda said: \u201cSo thou couldst always sing to me at morn and eve,\nI would not care whose bride I were.\u201d Horant said: \u201cLady, within my\nmaster\u2019s courts abide twelve minstrels, better far than I; and yet with\nall the sweetness of their singing my lord sings best of all.\u201d And Hilda\nsaid: \u201cIf that be so, I fain would follow thee and be King Hettel\u2019s\nbride. But I know not how. My father will give me to no suitor with his\ngood will. I would go but I durst not.\u201d Horant answered her: \u201cSince thou\nwouldst, be it ours to dare. We ask no more.\u201d\n\nThen Horant and his comrades got ready their ship for sea, and afterward\nthey came to Hagen, saying: \u201cThe time for our departure draweth nigh,\nand we must sail to other lands. But before we go, we pray you bring the\nqueen and your fair daughter, that they may see the treasures which we\nhave within the ship.\u201d So on the next day, after mass, King Hagen came\ndown to the beach, with his queen, and the fair Hilda and her maids;\nwith them went a thousand good knights of Ireland. The ship was swung\nto a single cable, the anchor aboard, the sail tackle free. Upon the\nsands were spread the Danish treasure chests, filled with costly raiment\nembroidered with gold and jewels. There was a crowding round the chests\nto see; Yarl Wate was there, and Frute, and Horant; and in the crowding\nHilda was parted from her mother. Hagen and his knights saw nothing for\nthe crowd, and the queen forgot her daughter at beholding the glories of\nthe raiment. But suddenly they heard a shout, and looking up beheld Yarl\nWate leap on the bulwarks with fair Hilda in his arms; the next moment\nHorant and Frute sprang on board with two other maidens. Yrolt smote at\nthe cable with his axe; it parted. The sail was hauled aloft, and twenty\noars shot out from either side to lift the ship along. Hagen and his\nknights ran quickly down into the sea; but the rowers rowed hard, and\narmed men in the ship arose, seven hundred strong, and laid about them.\nShort was the fight, and soon the vessel reached deep water. Loud laughed\nthe Danes to see on the fading shore the angry crowd, the weeping queen,\nand Hagen raging like a madman, up to his waist in the sea.\n\nFast sped the ship and the wind was fair. The Danes made Hegelingen in\nten days, and Hettel was wed to Hilda with great joy.\n\nBut while they yet sat at the marriage feast Hagen\u2019s war-ship bore down\nupon their coast. Quickly the Danes rose from the tables, put their armor\non, and ran down to the shore. Hagen drave his ship upon the sand, and\nleaped into the water with his men. A shower of arrows thick as hail was\nhis greeting. Hettel rushed foremost to withstand him. There was fierce\nfighting between the two for a little space; then Hettel fell, sore\nwounded; and over his body Hagen and his knights pressed on and hewed\ntheir way to land. Fast fell the men, both Danes and Irelanders. Then\nYarl Wate encountered Hagen; and the battle anger fell on both the men;\nthey fought like wild beasts of the wood, till, Wate being wounded on the\nhead, Hagen\u2019s war-pike brake at the next blow he struck. Meantime the\nbattle raged furiously. The Irelanders kept their footing, but could not\ndrive back the Danish men; the numbers slain on either hand were equal,\nman for man. Then Hettel\u2019s wounds being bound up, the Danish king cried\nout to Hagen: \u201cOf what avail shall it be to you or me to fight this\nbattle out? For every man of mine that falls a man of thine goes down.\nWhen it is done there will be an end to Danes and Irelanders alike. But\nif thou must needs prolong the fight, I will now meet thee, and if Hilda\nweeps for a dead husband she shall mourn a dead father too.\u201d Then Hagen\ncast down his sword, and called off his men. And he said to Hettel: \u201cGive\nme thy hand; for in sooth my child has married a brave man; and had I\nhalf a score more daughters they should all come to Hegelingen.\u201d So the\nkings made peace together. And the marriage feast was all begun again,\nand kept for twelve days in King Hettel\u2019s palace. Moreover a wise woman\nbrought forth herbs and roots, and healed the warriors of their wounds.\nAnd after the feasting, Hagen and his men were loaded with gifts, and\nthey entered into their ship and departed to Ireland.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LADY OF KYNAST\n\nBy Xavier B. Saintine\n\n\nThe Lady of Kynast owned a large domain, and on this domain a ruined old\ntower which stood on the summit of a steep, high rock, surrounded on all\nsides by a deep abyss.\n\nRich, young and beautiful, eagerly sought for by a number of admirers,\nThe Lady of Kynast did not think, in her desire to keep them from\nbecoming too pressing, of undertaking an endless piece of embroidery,\nlike Penelope. She did not embroider; in fact she looked with contempt,\nand almost with disgust, upon every kind of work that was done by women.\nShe told her admirers that she was betrothed to Kynast\u2014this was the name\nof the old tower\u2014and that anyone who thought of winning her good graces\nwould first have to compete with her betrothed. To do this nothing was\nrequired but to climb up the rock and the tower, and having reached the\nbattlements, to make a complete round, not on foot, however, or assisted\nby the hands and knees, but on horseback, without other assistance than\nthe bridle.\n\nThe flock of lovers took flight instantly; only two remained, two\nbrothers who had completely lost their heads.\n\nAfter having cast lots, the first one attempted the task and seemed\non the point of being successful. But that was all. He had no sooner\nreached the crenelated top of the old tower than he was seized with\nvertigo and instantly fell into the abyss.\n\nThe second brother, in his turn, climbed to the top and actually\nsucceeded in riding some distance along the battlements; but soon his\nhorse, feeling the stones slipping from under its hoofs, and the whole\ntower rocking under the weight, refused to go on. Determined to carry\nthrough the undertaking he encouraged his horse with his voice and with\nhis spurs, but the poor animal remained immovable, apparently wedged in\nbetween the large stones of the tower. In the morning both horse and\nrider had disappeared.\n\nFor quite a while no other claimants appeared to woo the fair lady, when\nsuddenly one day a third lover presented himself and asked leave to\nattempt the trial.\n\nShe did not know who it was, and this surprised her; for how could he\nhave fallen in love with her? He might possibly have seen her on her\nbalcony, or at some royal feast; perhaps he was only allured by her great\nreputation. However, there was nothing to lose by accepting the offer.\n\nFor some days a thick, heavy fog had shrouded the castle and the old\ntavern from top to bottom, so as to make the ascent impossible. The\nsimple laws of hospitality required, therefore, that the lady should\noffer her castle to the newly arrived knight.\n\nHe proved to be a handsome man with a fine commanding figure, and the\nlarge number of his servants bespoke his high rank and large fortune.\nDuring three days he spent almost all his time with the young lady, but\nas yet he had not dared say a word of his love. On her side, however, the\nyoung lady felt herself gradually conquered by a feeling which had, until\nnow, been unknown to her heart.\n\nWhen the dense veil of mist was at length torn aside and the Kynast shone\nforth in its full splendor, she was on the point of telling the knight\nthat she would not insist on the trial in his case.\n\nWhen the moment came the Lady of Kynast felt her heart fail her. She\nshut herself in, she wept and she cried, and prayed that he might be\nsuccessful. Loud clamors were heard below, and as she thought the\nspectators were bewailing the death of her last lover, she fainted away.\n\nCries of joy and of triumph roused her again; the knight had successfully\naccomplished the task. Overcome, she rushes to meet him, and in her\nexcitement she forgets that all eyes are upon her, and breathlessly cries\nout: \u201cMy hand is yours.\u201d But he draws himself up to his full height, and\nhaughtily and harshly he replies, with a proud smile:\n\n\u201cHave I ever asked you for your hand? I only came to avenge my two\nbrothers, whom you have killed, and I have done it, for I do not, could\nnot, love you, and yet you love me. Farewell!\u201d\n\nThat same evening the wretched lady had herself conducted up to the top\nof the tower, from whence she wished, she said, to watch the setting sun.\nShe was never seen alive again.\n\n\n\n\nTHE GUARDIAN ANGEL\n\nBy Xavier B. Saintine\n\n\nA white figure appeared before the young girl as she awoke. \u201cI am your\nGuardian Angel!\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you will grant me the wishes which I shall mention?\u201d\n\n\u201cI shall carry them to God\u2019s throne. You may count upon my assistance.\nWhat are your wishes?\u201d\n\n\u201cO White Angel, I am tired of continually turning the spindle and my\nfingers are getting to be so hard by constant work that yesterday, at the\ndance, my partner might have imagined he was holding a wooden hand.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour partner was that fine-looking gentleman from Hesse? Did he not tell\nyou that he adored blue eyes and fair hair, and that he would make you a\nbaroness, if you would go home with him, if you would wickedly run away?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhite Angel, make me a baroness!\u201d\n\nThe evening of that day a young peasant came and asked Louisa\u2019s mother\nfor her daughter\u2019s hand. The mother said, Yes.\n\n\u201cWhite Angel, deliver me from this poor man. I want to be a baroness!\u201d\n\nThe mother, who was a sensible woman, and a widow, had good sense enough\nand energy enough for two. The White Angel did not appear again, and\nLouisa married the peasant\u2014and she kept on turning the spindle.\n\nOne day her husband, who was a hard-working man, had over-exerted\nhimself and was taken ill. In the meanwhile Louisa had seen her handsome\ngentleman again.\n\n\u201cWhite Angel,\u201d she said, \u201che loves me still. He has sworn he would marry\nme if I were a widow.\u201d She dared not say more. The husband recovered from\nhis illness. The White Angel still turned a deaf ear to her wishes. She\nlost all hope of ever becoming a baroness.\n\nLater her husband became more successful, so that his work alone supplied\nall their wants. Two beautiful children had come to gladden their lives,\nand now, when Louisa worked at the spindle, it felt quite soft in her\nfingers.\n\nOne evening, when she was only half asleep, the white figure appeared\nonce more, and a gentle voice whispered in her ear this story:\n\n\u201cA little fish was merrily swimming about in the water and looking\nseriously at a pretty blackcap which first circled around and around in\nthe air, and then alighted on a branch of a willow which grew close to\nthe bank of the river.\n\n\u201c\u2018Oh,\u2019 said the little fish, \u2018how happy that bird is! It can rise up to\nthe heavens and go high up to the sun to warm itself in its rays. Why\ncannot I do the same?\u2019\n\n\u201cThe blackcap, who was looking down at the fish, thought to himself:\n\n\u201c\u2018Oh! how happy that fish is! The element in which it lives furnishes it\nat the same time with food; it has nothing to do but to glide along. How\nI should like to sport in the fresh, transparent water!\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cAt that moment a kite pounced upon the poor little fish, while a scamp\nof a schoolboy threw a stone at the bird; the blackcap fell into the\nwater\u2014the fresh, transparent water\u2014and for a moment struggled in it\nbefore it died, while the little fish, carried aloft, could go up on high\nto the sun and warm itself in its rays. Their wishes had been granted.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nTHE GIANT WHO LAUGHED AT A DWARF\n\nBy Xavier B. Saintine\n\n\nAn old duke of Bavaria had at his court a dwarf named Ephesim, and a\ngiant named Grommelund. The giant laughed at the dwarf, and the dwarf\nthreatened to box his ears. Grommelund laughed a big hoarse laugh that\nseemed to come up from his toes, and dared Ephesim to go ahead. The dwarf\naccepted the challenge at once, and the duke, having been a witness of\nthe scene, ordered that a field for a single combat should be gotten\nready.\n\nEverybody expected to do as the giant had done, and laugh at the pigmy,\nas the poor little fellow was hardly two feet high and would have had to\nclimb a long way before reaching the giant\u2019s ears.\n\nThe dwarf began by walking all around the giant, as if to take his\nmeasure. The good-natured giant, standing up immovable, looks down upon\nhim and quietly laughs till his sides shake; but while he is holding his\nhands to his sides, the dwarf unties his shoestrings and then worries\nhim by kicking and pinching his calves.\n\nGrommelund laughs more loudly than ever, thanks to the tickling; takes\na few strides, steps on his loose shoestrings, nearly stumbles, and at\nlast, with thoughtful presence of mind, stoops down to tie the strings.\n\nEphesim was watching for this. He quickly slapped the giant\u2019s cheek so\nvigorous and sounding a smack that the duke and all the lords of the\ncourt looked up in astonishment.\n\nThe poor giant was so shamed and humiliated that he hurriedly shambled\noff the field and sought refuge in the mountains, where, it is said, he\nhid himself and refused to come out.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LEGEND OF SAINT CHRISTOPHER\n\nBy Lillian M. Gask\n\n\nThere was once a man named Offero, so tall and strong that he stood among\nhis fellows as a sturdy oak in a grove of saplings. His eyes were keen\nand clear as some great eagle\u2019s, his lips spoke nothing but gentle words,\nand his heart was as pure and tender as a little child\u2019s. His spirit was\nbrave and fearless, and while he was yet in the prime of his strength he\nresolved to devote it to some good purpose.\n\n\u201cMy friends,\u201d he said, when he had called together his companions, \u201cI\nmust leave you now, for something within me whispers that I was born to\nserve a king so great that fear is unknown to him; a king to whom all men\nbow.\u201d\n\nThen he strode away into the forest, and was seen by them no more.\n\nFor many a day he traversed valley and mountain, inquiring of all he met\nwho was the greatest king. At last he came to a splendid country, where\nreigned a monarch of high renown. His armies were vast and powerful, and\nhis fleet of warships was like a flock of birds bearing death on their\ngrim brown wings.\n\nWhen he was told that Offero desired to serve him, he welcomed him\ngladly, and liked the young man so well that he soon made him his\ntrusted counsellor and friend.\n\nIt was Offero\u2019s pride to see how all men trembled at his master\u2019s frown,\nand he could not believe that there lived a monarch greater than he.\n\nOne day, however, when the king was present, a courtier made some remark\nabout \u201cthe Evil One;\u201d his Majesty\u2019s august brow grew pale, and Offero\ncould have sworn he saw his stem lips quiver. Pained and surprised, he\nhumbly asked the king why he was troubled.\n\n\u201cI am afraid of the Devil,\u201d said that monarch, \u201calthough I fear no mortal\nman. He is the King of Hades, and more powerful even than I.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen I must leave you, O king!\u201d cried Offero with haste, \u201csince I have\nvowed to serve none other than the most powerful monarch in existence.\u201d\nAnd sorrowfully he turned away.\n\n\u201cWhere is the Devil?\u201d he asked the first man he met.\n\n\u201cHe is everywhere,\u201d returned the traveller, looking round uneasily; and\nthis was the usual answer that Offero received to his inquiry. Wherever\nhe went men looked uneasy at the Devil\u2019s name, but would not say where\nOffero was most likely to meet with him.\n\nHe found him at last among a group of idle men and maidens on the village\ngreen, and hailed him as his master. The Devil was glad to have so strong\na follower, and amused himself by showing the astonished giant his power\nover rich and poor. There seemed to be no limit to his might; he swayed\nthe nobles in their velvet robes, and the peasants in their tattered\ngarments.\n\n\u201cHe is indeed master of the world,\u201d sighed Offero, and though he liked\nnot the Devil\u2019s ways, he stifled his distaste that he might keep his word.\n\nOne day his master led him through the outskirts of the town into the\nopen country.\n\n\u201cWe are going to visit a hermit,\u201d he said with a burst of laughter. \u201cHe\nhas left the town to be quit of me, but he will find me in his cave!\u201d\n\nBefore Offero could ask him what he meant to do with the good hermit,\nthey came to a turn where four roads met. A rough wind swayed the\nbranches of the trees, and a peal of thunder echoed among the lofty\nhills. It was neither wind nor thunder, however, that made the Devil\ntremble, but the sight of a wooden cross which some pious folk had\nerected here. With gaunt arms pointing east and west it stood immovable;\nthe rain beat down on it mercilessly, as if to cleanse it from the\nroadside dust; and turning his head away that he might not see it, the\nDevil hastened past. Not until it was far behind them had Offero an\nopportunity of asking why he had trembled.\n\n\u201cI was afraid,\u201d answered his grim companion, with another shudder.\n\n\u201cAfraid?\u201d repeated Offero in puzzled tones. \u201cWhy, what was there to be\nafraid of?\u201d\n\n\u201cDid you not see the crucifix?\u201d cried the Devil impatiently. \u201cThe figure\non it is that of the Christ, and this is why I trembled.\u201d\n\nThe giant had never heard that Holy Name before, and felt more perplexed\nthan ever as he demanded: \u201cWho is this Christ whom you so fear?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is the King of Heaven,\u201d was the reluctant reply.\n\n\u201cIs he more powerful, then, than you?\u201d persisted Offero, planting himself\nin the center of the pathway so that his master could not pass on.\n\n\u201cHe is more powerful even than I!\u201d admitted the Devil, his eyes becoming\npoints of fire.\n\n\u201cThen I shall serve Him, and Him only,\u201d the giant cried, and, turning on\nhis heel, he left the Devil to go on his way alone.\n\nWhen Offero reached the cross once more, a man was kneeling before it in\nprayer. As he rose from his knees, Offero asked him the way to Heaven.\n\n\u201cI cannot tell you,\u201d said the man. \u201cThe way is long, and hard to find.\n\u2019Tis well that Christ is merciful.\u201d\n\nOffero met with like answers from many wayfarers whom he questioned, but\nat last came one who advised him to consult the hermit.\n\n\u201cHe is a holy man,\u201d he assured him earnestly, \u201cand has retired from the\nworld that he may give his time to prayer and fasting. He thinks he can\nserve Christ this way better than any other.\u201d\n\nSo Offero sought the hermit, and learnt from him many things. He heard of\nthe grandeur and goodness of Christ, and of the greatness of His Kingdom.\nAll that he said made Offero more eager to serve Him than ever, and\nwhen the hermit explained that no one could enter the Heavenly Kingdom\nuntil he was summoned there by Christ Himself, he bowed his head in\ndisappointment.\n\n\u201cHow then can I serve this new Master,\u201d he said, \u201cunless I can see Him\nand hear His commands?\u201d\n\n\u201cDo as I do,\u201d replied the hermit. \u201cGive up the world, and fast and pray.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf I were to fast,\u201d said Offero shrewdly, \u201cI should lose my strength,\nand then, when He called me to work for Him, I should be useless.\u201d And\nalthough the hermit tried to persuade him, he would not stay, but set off\nagain on his journey, determined to find the way to Heaven.\n\nPresently he met a company of pilgrims. They were dusty and\ntravel-stained, and very footsore, but their faces shone with joy. There\nwere men and women and little children; some came from distant lands, and\nsome from near, but one and all they were filled with a deep content.\n\n\u201cWho are you, and whence do you travel?\u201d Offero asked them wonderingly.\n\n\u201cWe are the servants of Christ,\u201d they answered, \u201cand we are marching\ntowards Heaven. The path is rough, and the way is long, but His many\nmansions await us.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will come with you, and be His servant too!\u201d said Offero, and they\nwelcomed him gladly.\n\nThe way was long, as they had said, but to the giant the days passed\nquickly. He was learning so much that he could scarcely sleep for the\nwonder of it, and his face also shone with happiness. He grew very grave\nwhen he heard of the swift-flowing river that all must cross before they\ncould hope to reach the Kingdom of Heaven.\n\n\u201cThere is no bridge to span it,\u201d said an aged pilgrim, whose tottering\nlimbs were now so feeble that but for Offero\u2019s support they would hardly\nhave borne him along. \u201cThe trembling woman, the little child, must cross\nit alone in the gloom and darkness, for though they call, no friendly\nboatman appears in sight. When Christ has need of us, His messenger will\nappear; he is clothed in raiment white as snow, and although his voice is\nalways gentle, it is as clearly heard in the rush and roar of the tempest\nas on a summer\u2019s day.\u201d\n\nAt length the pilgrims came to the river-bank, and as the giant gazed\nat the foaming current, and saw the waves dashing against the shore, he\nmarvelled greatly at what he had been told. Surely, he thought, no feeble\nwoman or little child could breast its waters and reach the other side.\n\nEven as he mused on this the white-robed messenger called to an ailing\ngirl who was almost too weak to move. Her Master had need of her, he\nsaid, and in the fair courts of Heaven she would be strong again.\n\nWhat joy was hers when she heard His voice! But alas! when she crept to\nthe edge of the bank, and saw the river that swept beneath it, her heart\ngrew sick with fear. She quivered and shook from head to foot, and moaned\nthat she dare not venture. An exceeding pity moved Offero to go to her\nhelp.\n\n\u201cDo not weep,\u201d he said, \u201cbut trust to me.\u201d And taking her tenderly in his\narms, he lifted her on to his shoulder, and bore her tenderly across.\nIn spite of all his strength, the pitiless current nearly swept him off\nhis feet, and he fought with the icy waters as he had fought no mortal\nfoe. The girl tried in vain to thank him as he placed her on the bank in\nsafety; he would not let her speak.\n\n\u201cTell Christ,\u201d he said, \u201cthat I am His servant, and that until He shall\nsummon me to His side I will help His pilgrims to cross the River of\nDeath.\u201d\n\nFrom henceforth this was his work. He had no time to wonder when his own\ncall would come, for day and night there arrived at the banks of the\nriver pilgrims from every clime, and, since few had courage to face the\ndark waters alone, he crossed and recrossed it continually. In order\nthat he might be always at hand, he built himself a rough log-hut by the\nwaterside, and here he made his home.\n\nOne night when the waves rolled fiercely and the wind blew high, Offero\nlaid him down to sleep. Surely, he thought, no one would dare to cross\nin such a storm. His eyes had scarcely closed, however, when he heard a\nknocking at the door.\n\n\u201cWho are you?\u201d he cried as he threw it open. There was no answer, and by\nthe light of his lantern he saw a wistful child on the river-bank. He was\nstaring down at the rushing waters with piteous dread, but the tone of\nhis voice was clear and firm as he turned and spoke to Offero.\n\n\u201cI must cross to-night,\u201d he said. Offero looked at him with deep\ncompassion.\n\n\u201cPoor child!\u201d he murmured, \u201cI am glad I heard you. With a tide like this\nit will be difficult even for me, giant as I am, but you would be swept\naway.\u201d\n\nWith gentle hands he placed the boy on his shoulder, and bidding him not\nto fear, set out for the opposite shore.\n\nHe had not overestimated the difficulties he had to face. Time after time\nhe was beaten backward, and the icy waters nearly engulfed them both.\nIt took all his strength to bear up against them, and the weight of the\nchild seemed greater than that of the heaviest man he had ever borne.\nWhen at last he climbed the steep, high bank, he was bruised as well as\nbreathless, for the hidden rocks had worked him grievous harm.\n\n\u201cTell Christ\u2014\u2014\u201d he panted. And then he saw that the figure beside him was\nnot that of a little child, but of a radiant Being of kingly mien, with\na crown of glory on His brow. The giant knelt before Him, and the Vision\nsmiled.\n\n\u201cI am the Christ,\u201d He said, \u201cwhom thou hast served so long. This night\nthou hast borne Me across the River of Death.\u2026 Thou didst find Me a heavy\nburden, for I bore the sins of the world.\u201d\n\nThen He named Giant Offero \u201cChristopher,\u201d meaning \u201cHe who has carried\nChrist,\u201d and took him to dwell with Him in His Heavenly Kingdom.\n\n\n\n\nPRINCE IVAN AND THE GRAY WOLF\n\nBy Lillian M. Gask\n\n\nIn a far-off land surrounded by snow-capped mountains, and watered by\nrivers that flowed swiftly down to the sea, dwelt a mighty tsar. His\npeople loved as well as feared him, for the glance of his eagle eye was\nvery kind, and he was ever ready to listen to their pleas for help or\njustice. When he rode abroad on the great white horse that was shod with\ngold, they flocked to bless him, and throughout the whole of his wide\ndominion there was not one discontented man, woman, or child. He had\nno foes to trouble him, since rival monarchs knew full well that their\ntroops would be dispersed like mist in sunlight before the charge of his\nvictorious army, and his three sons, Dimitri, Vasili, and Ivan, were all\nthat a father could desire. Yet the good tsar\u2019s brow was clouded as he\nwalked in his garden, and from time to time he uttered a deep sigh.\n\nThis garden was his greatest pride. In days gone by the forests had been\nrifled of their most splendid trees that they might spread their shade\nover the rare and lovely flowers that travellers brought him from every\npart of the globe. The perfume of his million rose trees was carried on\nthe wind for fifty miles beyond the palace, and so wonderful were their\ncolors that the eyes of those who beheld them were dazzled by so much\nbrilliance. There were the gorgeous orchids which, in order that the\ngarden of their beloved tsar might be the most beautiful in the world,\nmen had risked their lives to obtain, and every imaginable kind of fruit\nhung in tempting clusters from the drooping boughs of the trees. To look\nat them was to make one\u2019s mouth water, and the sick folk in his kingdom\nshared with the tsar the pleasures of taste and touch.\n\nThe tree that gave him most pleasure bore nothing but golden apples. When\nspring came round, and tender buds appeared upon the whispering branches,\nthe tsar caused a net of fine white seed-pearls to be spread around it,\nso that the sweet-voiced choristers who filled his groves with music\nshould not come near them. They might feast at will on every other tree\nin his garden, he said, but the golden apples they must leave for him;\nand as if in gratitude for his many kindnesses, even when the net of\npearls was taken away, and the apples gleamed like fairy gold amid the\nemerald-green of their shapely leaves, not one of the birds approached\nthem. When cares of state pressed heavily upon him, the tsar sought rest\nbeneath the loaded branches, and forgot his troubles in watching the\nsunlight play on the golden balls.\n\nNow all was changed, and the tsar\u2019s deep sigh betokened feelings of deep\nannoyance. Morning after morning he found the apple tree stripped of its\ngolden treasures, and its emerald leaves strewn on the ground.\n\nThis was the work of the Magic Bird, who once upon a time had lived in\nthe great cloud castles that gather in the West, but was now the slave\nof a distant king. The feathers of the Magic Bird were as radiant as the\nsun-god\u2019s plumes, and her eyes as clear as crystal. When she had wrought\nher will on the apple trees, she would fly blithely home to the garden\nof her own master, and, try as they would, not one of the tsar\u2019s head\ngardeners could even catch sight of her.\n\nThe good tsar meditated much upon the matter, and one windy morning in\nautumn he called his three sons to him.\n\n\u201cMy children,\u201d he said, \u201cthe source of my grief is known to you, and now\nI entreat your help. Will you each in turn forego your sleep, that you\nmay watch in my garden for the Magic Bird? To him who shall capture her,\nI will give the half of my kingdom, and when I am called thence he shall\nreign in my stead.\u201d\n\n\u201cWillingly, O my father,\u201d answered each of his three sons; and Prince\nDimitri, as the eldest, claimed the right to the first watch.\n\nThe garden was flooded with moonlight as the prince threw himself down\non a moss-grown bank that faced the tree, and the fragrance of the roses\nsoon worked its drowsy spell. From a grove of myrtles came the song of\na sweet-voiced nightingale: \u201c_Gl\u00fcck\u2014gl\u00fcck\u2014gl\u00fcck_,\u201d she trilled, and in\nlistening to her the prince fell fast asleep. When he awoke it was light\nagain. The tree had been once more despoiled, and the Magic Bird had\nflown.\n\nThe same thing occurred when Prince Vasili took his turn in watching. It\nis only fair to him to say that he did not fall asleep until the night\nwas far spent, but as the east began to quiver with light, he too became\noverpowered with slumber. The Magic Bird was watching her opportunity,\nand yet again she robbed the tree. When questioned by the tsar, both\nprinces solemnly assured him that no strange bird had visited the garden\nduring the night, but though he fain would have believed them, he could\nnot doubt the evidence of his eyes.\n\nIt was now Prince Ivan\u2019s turn to watch. He was not nearly so good-looking\nas his brothers, but he had a stout heart and a cool head, and he made up\nhis mind to keep awake at any cost. Instead of reclining on the ground,\nhe perched himself in the boughs of the tree, and when the song of the\nnightingale threatened to lull him to sleep, as it had done the elder\nprinces, he put his fingers into his ears that he might not hear it.\n\nAn hour passed slowly; a second, and then a third. Suddenly the whole\ngarden was lit up as if with a burst of sunshine, and with rays of light\nflashing from every shaft of her golden feathers the Magic Bird flew down\nand began to peck at the shining apples. Prince Ivan, scarcely daring\nto breathe, stretched out his hand and caught as much of her tail as he\ncould grasp. With a startled cry the Magic Bird spread her beautiful\nwings and wrenched herself free, leaving behind one glittering feather,\nwhich the prince held firmly. At break of day he took this to his father,\nhumbly apologizing for his ill success in not having caught the Magic\nBird herself.\n\n\u201cNevertheless, you have done well, my son,\u201d said the tsar gratefully,\nand he placed the feather, which shone so brightly that at dusk it\nilluminated the whole room, in a cabinet of cedar and mother-of-pearl.\n\nThe Magic Bird came no more to the palace garden, and the precious tree\nwas never again despoiled of its golden apples. But the tsar was not\ncontent. He sighed to possess the bird that had robbed him, and once more\nhe summoned his three sons.\n\n\u201cMy children,\u201d he said, \u201cI am sick with longing for the Magic Bird. Seek\nher, I pray you, and bring her to me. What I have promised already shall\nthen be yours.\u201d\n\nThe princes assented gladly, each anxious to find the Magic Bird. Prince\nIvan alone wished to please his father; his brothers were only thinking\nof the riches and honors they would gain for themselves. So dear was this\nyoungest son to the monarch\u2019s heart that he was loath to part with him\nwhen the time came, but the youth insisted.\n\n\u201cIt will not be for long, dear father,\u201d he cried \u201cI shall soon return\nwith the Magic Bird you sigh for.\u201d So the tsar blessed him, and let him\ngo.\n\nPrince Ivan took the fleetest horse in the imperial stables, and rode on\nand on for many days. At last he came to a bare field set in the midst of\nfair green meadows, and in the center of this stood a block of rough gray\nstone. Inscribed upon the stone in crimson letters was a strange verse:\n\n \u201cHungry and cold shall that man be\n Who rides in pride straight up to me.\n To ride from the left means death and sorrow,\n Though his horse shall live for many a morrow.\n He who rides from the right shall have good things all,\n But ere three days pass his horse shall fall!\u201d\n\nPrince Ivan was greatly troubled at the thought of losing his horse,\nbut to ride from the right seemed the wisest course for him to pursue.\nAccordingly he did so, and so swift was his horse\u2019s flight that he had\nsoon left the gray stone far behind. On the third day, as he was passing\nthe borders of a gloomy forest, a big Gray Wolf sprang out from a\nthicket, and, flying at his horse\u2019s throat, threw him on the ground and\nkilled him in spite of Ivan\u2019s gallant attempt to beat him off. Ivan would\nnow have run the Gray Wolf through with the jeweled dagger his father had\ngiven him as a parting present, but before he could rise from the spot\nwhere he had been thrown, the creature spoke.\n\n\u201cSpare me, wise prince,\u201d he entreated humbly. \u201cI have but done as I was\ncommanded. My death will not give you back your horse, while if you spare\nmy life I will be your friend forever, and will carry you over the world.\u201d\n\nPrince Ivan saw that he would gain nothing by being revengeful, and,\nmindful of his quest, accepted the Wolf\u2019s offer to be his steed.\n\n\u201cTell me where you wish to go, dear master!\u201d said the Gray Wolf, \u201cand\nit shall be as you will.\u201d And, true enough, when he heard the object of\nPrince Ivan\u2019s journey, he galloped even more swiftly than the horse had\ndone, till toward nightfall he came to a standstill behind a thick stone\nwall.\n\n\u201cOn the other side of this wall,\u201d he said, \u201cis a terraced garden, and\nthere, in a golden cage, is the Magic Bird. The garden is empty now, so\nno one will stay you if you capture her; but if you touch her cage there\nwill be trouble.\u201d\n\nDismounting from the Gray Wolf\u2019s back, Prince Ivan climbed the wall\nwithout much difficulty, and quickly seized the Magic Bird. She fluttered\nso wildly, however, as he tried to hold her, though without uttering a\nsound, that he quite forgot the Gray Wolf\u2019s warning, and hastened back\nfor the cage. As he touched it, the stillness of the garden was broken\nby the pealing of bells and the clanking of armor, for the cage was\nconnected with the palace courtyard by invisible wires. Before he could\nescape, Prince Ivan was surrounded by excited soldiers, who quickly\ncarried him before the king.\n\n\u201cAre you not ashamed?\u201d the monarch thundered, noting the young man\u2019s rich\nattire, \u201cto be caught in my garden like a common thief? Where do you come\nfrom, and what is your name?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am the son of a great tsar,\u201d the young prince answered, \u201cand they\ncall me Ivan. My father has a very beautiful garden, in which grows a\ntree of golden apples that is the pride of his heart. Night after night\nyour Magic Bird rifled this precious fruit, until I all but succeeded in\ncapturing her. She was too quick for me, however, and flew away, leaving\none feather in my hand. This feather I took to my father, who admired it\ngreatly, and ever since has longed to possess the Magic Bird.\u201d\n\nTsar Dolmat looked less angry, though he still frowned.\n\n\u201cIf you had come to me,\u201d he said, \u201cand told me what you wanted, I would\nhave made your father a present of the Magic Bird. As it is, I feel\ninclined to let all nations know how dishonorably you have acted.\u201d\n\nPrince Ivan bowed his head in shame, and after a searching glance at him\nthe tsar continued his speech.\n\n\u201cYou shall go forth free, young prince,\u201d he said, \u201cif you will do me a\nservice. In the realm of Tsar Afron, beyond the thrice-ninth kingdom,\nthere is a gold-maned horse which belongs to him, and this I greatly\ncovet. If you will procure it, and bring it here to me, I will forgive\nyour theft of the Magic Bird, and present her to you as a mark of honor.\u201d\n\nPrince Ivan promised to do his best, but he did not feel very hopeful as\nhe rejoined the Gray Wolf, who was patiently waiting for him outside the\nwall. When Ivan had confessed the reason that led to his capture, the\nGray Wolf patted his shoulder with one rough paw.\n\n\u201cIt takes a wise man,\u201d he remarked, \u201cto own himself in the wrong, so we\nwill say no more about it. Jump on my back again, and I will take you to\nthe far-famed realm of Tsar Afron, beyond the thrice-ninth kingdom.\u201d\n\nThe Gray Wolf ran so swiftly that Ivan could scarcely see the country\nthrough which they passed, and after travelling for many nights and days,\nthey reached, at last, their journey\u2019s end. The marble stables of the\ntsar shone fair and stately in the morning light, and through a door\nwhich a careless groom had left half open, Prince Ivan made his way. The\nhorse with the golden mane was feeding on the yellow pollen collected\nby the bees from the tall white lilies that edged the rose garden, and\nstared at Prince Ivan haughtily as he approached. Firmly grasping his\ngolden mane, Prince Ivan led him out of the stall. The Gray Wolf had\ncautioned him more than once not to attempt to bring the golden bridle\nthat hung above the door, but as he was leaving the stable the prince\nsuddenly thought how useful this would be, and turning back, stretched\nout his hand and touched it. Immediately he did so, bells pealed all over\nthe palace, for, like the cage of the Magic Bird, the Bridle was fastened\nto invisible wires.\n\nThe stable guards came hurrying in, full of alarm, and when they saw\nPrince Ivan they seized him angrily, and took him before their master.\nTsar Afron was even more indignant than Tsar Dolmat had been at the\nprince\u2019s attempt to rob him. When he had questioned him as to his birth\nand station his face became sterner still.\n\n\u201cIs this the deed of a gallant knight?\u201d he asked with withering scorn.\n\u201cI have a great regard for your father\u2019s name, and if you had come to me\nopenly and in good faith, I would gladly have given you my gold-maned\nhorse. But now all nations shall know of your dishonor, for such acts of\nyours must not go unpunished.\u201d\n\nThis was more than Prince Ivan could bear, and with eager haste he\nprotested his willingness to atone for his fault.\n\n\u201cVery well, then,\u201d said Tsar Afron, \u201cI will take you at your word. Go\nforth and bring me Queen Helen the Beautiful, whom I have long loved\nwith all my heart and soul. I have seen a picture of her in my seer\u2019s\nwhite crystal, and she is more fair to look upon than any other maid. I\ncannot reach her, try as I may, since her kingdom is guarded by elves\nand goblins. If you can capture her for me and bring her here, in return\nI will give you anything you ask.\u201d\n\nPrince Ivan hurried away to the Gray Wolf, fearing that since he had\ndisregarded his advice for a second time, he might refuse to help him in\nthis new enterprise. Once more he humbly confessed that he had been at\nfault, and once more the Gray Wolf consoled him.\n\n\u201cOne must buy wit,\u201d he growled. \u201cWell, jump on my back, and I will see\nwhat I can do for you.\u201d\n\nThen he ran so swiftly that it seemed as though his feet were winged, and\nthe elves and goblins that guarded the kingdom of Helen the Beautiful\nscattered before him in all directions, thinking him to be a specter.\nWhen he came to the golden streamlet that bordered the queen\u2019s magic\ngarden, he told Prince Ivan that he must now dismount.\n\n\u201cGo back by the road we came,\u201d he commanded, \u201cand wait for me in the\nshade of that spreading oak tree we passed just now.\u201d\n\nPrince Ivan did as he was told, and the Gray Wolf crouched under a bush\nof juniper, and waited until evening fell. As the light faded out of the\nsunset sky and the pale little moon rose slowly over the mountain-tops,\nQueen Helen walked in her garden. She was so fair and sweet to look upon\nthat even the heart of the Gray Wolf was moved to admiration, and he\nwished her a worthier mate than the stern Tsar Afron, who knew not how to\nbe gentle even in his love. After a while she approached the streamlet,\nwinding round her dainty throat a cloud of milk-white gossamer, that she\nmight not feel the touch of the evening breeze.\n\n\u201cDo not fear, sweet lady! I will not harm you!\u201d the Gray Wolf cried,\nas he sprang from his hiding place and crossed the stream. Holding her\ntenderly by her flowing draperies, he leaped back to the other side, and\ngalloped with her to the prince, who waited under the spreading oak.\n\nWhen the queen and prince beheld each other, it was as if a veil had\nfallen from their eyes. Never had the world appeared so beautiful, and as\nthey gazed at each other in the soft twilight, the queen\u2019s fears fled.\nAs for Prince Ivan, he knew from that moment that she was intended for\nhis wife, and when they rode away together on the Gray Wolf\u2019s back, he\nalready felt that she belonged to him.\n\nThe journey was all too short, and soon Tsar Afron\u2019s palace loomed before\nthem.\n\n\u201cWhy are you weeping?\u201d the Gray Wolf inquired, as their tears splashed\non his head. Queen Helen could make no answer, but Prince Ivan\u2019s words\npoured forth like a raging flood.\n\n\u201cHow can we help it, Gray Wolf,\u201d he cried, \u201csince we love each other,\nand I must resign my beautiful queen to the stern Tsar Afron, or else be\nbranded before all nations as a robber and a thief?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have kept my promise, Prince Ivan,\u201d said the Gray Wolf, \u201cand served\nyou well, but I will do more for you still. By means of magic known to\nmyself alone, I, the Gray Wolf, will take the form of beautiful Queen\nHelen. You shall leave the real queen here, in the shade of this grove of\npine trees, and when you have taken Tsar Afron his strange wolf bride,\nwho will appear to him as a lovely woman with golden hair, he will give\nyou the gold-maned horse. Bid him farewell as quickly as you can, and,\ntaking your queen behind you, ride swiftly toward the west. When I have\ngiven you time to journey far, I will ask Tsar Afron to let me walk with\nmy maidens in the woods. Then, if you call me to your mind, I shall\ndisappear, from their midst even as they watch me, and join you and your\nqueen.\u201d\n\nPrince Ivan once more did as the Gray Wolf said, and great was the\ndelight of the Tsar Afron as he beheld the tall and gracious woman\nwhom the prince presented to him. She was even more beautiful than he\nhad imagined from her picture, and he would have given not only his\ngold-maned horse, but his crown as well, to her captor had he desired\nit. Prince Ivan, however, asked nothing but the gold-maned horse, and\nwas soon speeding across the plains with the real Queen Helen nestling\nagainst his side. He rode toward the west, where lay the kingdom of Tsar\nDolmat.\n\nTsar Afron was more than content with his wolfish bride, who was not\nalarmed by his fierce caresses, and only smiled when he threatened to\nkill her if her love for him should waver for a single instant. On the\nfourth day after their marriage feast she complained of feeling stifled\nin the royal palace.\n\n\u201cIf I might walk in the meadows,\u201d she said, \u201cthe breath of the cool fresh\nair would refresh my spirit, and I could once more laugh with my lord.\u201d\n\nSo the tsar allowed her to walk with her maidens. Just at this time the\nthought of the Gray Wolf flashed into Prince Ivan\u2019s head.\n\n\u201cI had forgotten him,\u201d he exclaimed remorsefully to his dear wife. \u201cWhat\nis he doing, I wonder? I wish we had him here.\u201d\n\nHe had no sooner spoken than there came a clap of thunder from the\ndistant hills, and the Gray Wolf suddenly appeared.\n\n\u201cYou must let the queen ride the gold-maned horse alone,\u201d he told the\nprince, \u201cand I will be your steed.\u201d\n\nSomewhat reluctantly, the prince accepted his suggestion, and in this\nmanner they rode to the verge of Tsar Dolmat\u2019s capital. The kindly looks\nof the Gray Wolf emboldened the prince to ask him another favor.\n\n\u201cSince you can change yourself into a beautiful woman, and then back\nagain into a Gray Wolf, could you not become for a time a gold-maned\nhorse, so that I might give you to Tsar Dolmat, and keep the real one for\nmy dear queen?\u201d\n\nThe Gray Wolf readily assented, and striking his right paw three times\nin succession on a patch of bare earth, became the exact image of the\ngold-maned horse who bore the fair Queen Helen. Leaving the real horse\nwith his bride in a flower-strewn meadow outside the city, Prince Ivan\nrode on to the tsar. He was greeted by that monarch with every sign of\njoy, for the mane of the Gray Wolf-horse shone in the sunshine like\npurest gold. The tsar kissed Prince Ivan on either cheek, and leading him\nto his palace, gave him a royal feast. For three whole days they reveled\nin the choicest wines and the richest viands the kingdom could supply,\nand on the third, Tsar Dolmat rewarded the prince with many thanks, and\nthe gift of the Magic Bird in her golden cage.\n\nPrince Ivan felt now that his quest was over, and quickly regaining Queen\nHelen\u2019s side, he fastened the cage of the Magic Bird round the neck of\nthe gold-maned horse, and rode with her toward his father\u2019s kingdom.\nEarly the next afternoon they were joined by the Gray Wolf; Tsar Dolmat\nhad ridden his newly acquired treasure in an open field, and had been\nheavily thrown for his pains by the false horse, which had then galloped\naway.\n\nAs the Gray Wolf had been so good a friend to him, Prince Ivan could not\nrefuse his request when he asked to be allowed to carry him, so once more\nthe queen alone sat on the gold-maned horse.\n\nThus they rode on until they came to the place where the Gray Wolf had\nslain the horse which Prince Ivan had brought from his father\u2019s stable.\nHere the strange creature came to a sudden stop.\n\n\u201cI have done all that I said, and more,\u201d he told the prince. \u201cNow I am\nyour servant no longer. Farewell!\u201d And he galloped back to the gloomy\nwood from which he had first come.\n\nPrince Ivan\u2019s sorrow at parting with him was very real, but in the\npleasure afforded by the queen\u2019s company he soon forgot his loss. When\nhe came within sight of his father\u2019s realm, he stopped by the shade of\na belt of fir trees, and placing the cage of the Magic Bird and the\ngolden bridle beneath their shade, he lifted down his beautiful queen,\nand rested with her on a bank of fern. They were weary after their long\njourney, and soon, talking together softly as ring-doves coo in their\nnests, both fell asleep.\n\nNow Prince Dimitri and Prince Vasili had fared badly on their travels,\nand were returning to the palace, empty-handed, and sadly out of temper,\nwhen they caught sight of the reclining forms of the two sleepers, with\nthe gold-maned horse browsing close beside them. As they stared in\namazement, an evil spirit of envy took possession of them, and there\npresently entered into their minds the thought of killing their brother.\nEach looked at the other, and then Prince Dimitri drew his sword, and ran\nit through Prince Ivan as he slept; he died without a murmur, and when\nthe queen awoke, she found him lifeless.\n\n\u201cWhat is this you have done?\u201d she sobbed to the guilty princes. \u201cIf you\nhad met him in fair fight, and slain him thus, he might at least have\nstruck a blow in self-defense. But you are cowards and dastards, fit only\nfor ravens\u2019 food!\u201d\n\nIn vain she wept and protested, as the princes drew lots for their dead\nbrother\u2019s possessions. The queen fell to the keeping of Prince Vasili,\nand the gold-maned horse was adjudged to Prince Dimitri. In a passion of\ntears, the queen hid her face in her golden hair, as her would-be lord\nspoke roughly to her.\n\n\u201cYou are in our power, fair Helen,\u201d he said. \u201cWe shall tell our father\nthat it was we who found you, the Magic Bird, and the gold-maned horse.\nIf you deny our words, we will instantly put you to death, so look to it\nthat you hold your tongue, and keep our counsel.\u201d\n\nThe poor queen was so terrified by his cruel threat that speech forsook\nher, and when they arrived at the palace she was mute as some marble\nstatue, and could not contradict the wicked statements which she heard\nthem boldly utter.\n\nPrince Ivan lay dead with his face to the sky, but the wood elves guarded\nhis body, so that neither beast nor bird came near to devour it until the\nend of thirty days. Then, as the sun was sinking, a raven seeking food\nfor her young, hopped on his breast, and would have pecked at his eyes\nhad not the Gray Wolf galloped up in the nick of time. He knew at once\nthat the dead man must be Ivan, and pouncing upon one of the young birds,\nwould have torn it asunder in his rage.\n\n\u201cDo not touch my little birdling, O fierce Gray Wolf!\u201d entreated the\nmother piteously. \u201cIt has done you no harm, and deserves no ill from you.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen listen,\u201d the Gray Wolf replied. \u201cI will spare the life of your\nbirdling, if you will fly away beyond the thrice-ninth lands, and bring\nme back the Water of Death and the Water of Life from the crystal stream\nwhence they flow to the great Forever.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will do what you wish,\u201d cried the raven, \u201conly do not touch my little\nson.\u201d And as she spoke she sped away.\n\nThree days and three nights had passed before she returned to the Gray\nWolf, carrying two small vials. One held the Water of Life, the other\nthe Water of Death, and as the Gray Wolf took them from her, he gave\na cry of triumph. With a snap of his teeth, he bit the young raven in\ntwo, tearing it to pieces before its mother\u2019s frantic eyes. This done,\nhe broke one of the vials, and when he had sprinkled three drops of the\nWater of Death on the slain birdling, immediately its torn body grew\ntogether again. Then he touched it with a few drops from the second vial,\nand the little thing spread its wings, and flew off rejoicing.\n\nThus the Gray Wolf knew that the raven had served him well, and he poured\nwhat was left of the Waters of Life and Death over the body of the dead\nprince. In a few moments, life came back to him, and stumbling to his\nfeet, he smiled at the Gray Wolf.\n\n\u201cHave I slept long?\u201d he asked dreamily.\n\n\u201cYou would have slept forever had it not been for me,\u201d was the reply. And\nthe prince listened with grieved surprise as the Gray Wolf told him all\nthat had happened.\n\n\u201cYour brother is going to marry your bride to-day,\u201d he ended by saying.\n\u201cWe must hasten to the palace with all possible speed. Mount on my back,\nand I will carry you once more.\u201d\n\nSo they galloped to the palace of the old tsar, and the Gray Wolf bade\nPrince Ivan farewell for the last time as he dismounted at the great\ngates. The prince hurried into the banquet-hall, and there, looking like\nsome fair statue that had been moulded from frozen snow, sat beautiful\nQueen Helen by Prince Vasili\u2019s side. They had just returned from the\nwedding ceremony, and all the nobles were gathered round.\n\nWhen Queen Helen saw who had entered the hall, her speech came back to\nher, and she flew to her lover with a cry of rapture and kissed him on\nthe lips.\n\n\u201cThis is my own dear husband,\u201d she cried. \u201cI belong to him, and not to\nthe wicked prince I have married to-day.\u201d From the shelter of Ivan\u2019s\nbreast she told the old tsar all that had happened, and how it was to his\nyoungest son that he owed the gold-maned horse and the Magic Bird.\n\nThe joy of the tsar at his favorite son\u2019s return was tempered by his\ngrief and amazement at the conduct of the elder princes. They were cast\ninto prison, where they languish still; but Prince Ivan and the beautiful\nQueen Helen are as happy as the days are long, and the Magic Bird was\nallowed to return to her home in the golden West.\n\n\n\n\nKING ROBERT OF SICILY\n\nRetold from the poem by Henry W. Longfellow\n\n\nKing Robert of Sicily was at church one evening attended as usual by\na great train of gallant knights and trusty squires and ladies of the\ncourt. As he sat proudly in his high place, dressed in rich and beautiful\nrobes, he thought not so much of the service as of his own importance and\nstate. Not only was he a king himself, but he was brother to the Pope and\nto Valmond, Emperor of Germany.\n\nPresently his attention was attracted by the chant that the priests were\nsinging. It was the Magnificat. Over and over again they repeated the\nwords,\n\n \u201c_Deposuit potentes de sede, et exaltavit humiles._\u201d\n\nKing Robert had heard the chant many times before, but now he found\nhimself wondering what this particular phrase meant. A learned man was at\nhis side, and the king spoke to him.\n\n\u201cWhat do those words mean?\u201d he asked.\n\n \u201cHe has put down the mighty from their seat,\n And has exalted them of low degree,\u201d\n\nreplied the scholar.\n\n\u201cIt is well that such words are sung in Latin and only by the priests,\u201d\nmuttered King Robert, scornfully. \u201cBe it known to both priests and\npeople that there is no power that can push me from my throne.\u201d\n\nHe leaned back in his seat yawning and soon fell asleep, lulled by the\nmonotonous chant.\n\nNow, it was St. John\u2019s eve and on that day strange and unlooked for\nthings happen. When King Robert awoke from his nap it was night and he\nwas alone in the church. The service was over and the priests and every\none else except himself had gone. The great building was dark but for the\nlittle lamps which were kept burning constantly before the images of the\nsaints.\n\nKing Robert started from his seat and looked around in amazement. All\nwas still. He groped his way down the long aisle to the door; he took\nhold of the handle and tried to turn it; the door was locked. He called\nand listened for an answer but none came. He knocked and he shouted, but\nto no purpose. Growing angrier every minute, he cried out threats and\ncomplaints and the sound of his own voice came back to him echoing from\nthe roofs and the walls. It was as though he were being mocked by unseen\nhearers.\n\nAfter what seemed a long time, the knocking and the shouting brought\nthe sexton to the church door. He came with his lantern suspecting that\nthieves were in the church.\n\n\u201cWho is there?\u201d he called.\n\n\u201cOpen the door at once,\u201d commanded the king, who was almost beside\nhimself with rage. \u201cIt is I, the king.\u201d\n\nThe sexton trembled and waited to hear more before putting the great key\nin the lock. He thought that there must be a madman within.\n\n\u201cArt thou afraid?\u201d cried the king.\n\n\u201cIt is a drunken vagabond,\u201d muttered the old man and, turning the key, he\nflung the door wide open.\n\nA figure leaped past him in the darkness. It was King Robert, but the\nsexton did not dream of that for the figure was half-naked and forlorn.\nThe king\u2019s gorgeous robes had disappeared, his hat and his cloak were\ngone and he did not look like himself at all. Without a word or a look at\nthe sexton he sped down the street.\n\nBare-headed and breathless and splashed with mud, Robert of Sicily,\nbrother of Pope Urbane and of Valmond, Emperor of Germany, reached his\npalace gate\u2014the gate that he had entered in triumph so many times.\n\nHe thundered for admittance, boiling with rage and half-mad with an\noverpowering sense of his wrongs. Through the gate he rushed and across\nthe courtyard, thrusting aside every one who stood in his way, upsetting\npages, and overwhelming guards. Past them all and up the broad stairway\nhe hurried and then sped through the long halls. He paid no attention to\nthe calls and the cries which pursued him, and did not pause until he\nreached the banquet room.\n\nThere on a dais sat another king wearing Robert\u2019s robes, his crown and\nhis signet-ring. His features were like Robert\u2019s and so was his form, but\nhe possessed a majesty and an exalted look which the real king lacked.\nThe room, always well lighted, shone with an unusual brilliancy and the\natmosphere was full of fragrance.\n\nAn Angel had taken the place of the king, and although no one was\nconscious of the change every one present vaguely felt the improvement.\n\nRobert stood speechless before the miracle. Then his surprise gave way to\nanger at seeing another in his place. The Angel spoke first.\n\n\u201cWho art thou, and why comest thou here?\u201d he asked benignly, meeting\nRobert\u2019s threatening look with one of almost divine compassion.\n\n\u201cI am the king,\u201d answered Robert indignantly, \u201cand I have come to claim\nmy throne from the impostor who is on it.\u201d\n\nAs he stood before the Angel, Robert did not look at all royal, and his\nclothing made such a difference in his appearance that the courtiers did\nnot notice even a resemblance to their king, and took him for a stranger.\nAt his bold words they sprang angrily from their seats and drew their\nswords to put him to death for his insolence.\n\nThe Angel was unmoved. He signed to the courtiers to sheath the weapons\nthat they had drawn in his defense.\n\n\u201cNo, thou art not the king,\u201d he said to Robert. \u201cThou art the king\u2019s\njester and henceforth thou shalt wear bells and cap and a scalloped cape\nand lead a monkey about by a string. Thou shalt obey my servants and wait\non my men.\u201d\n\nIn those days every king kept a jester or a fool whose duty it was to\namuse his master and the court. Often the jester was not quite right\nin his mind and for that reason said odd things which would not have\noccurred to entirely sane people, and he was allowed to make speeches\nwhich would have been rebuked if they had come from others. Thus the\nAngel treated Robert\u2019s claim as a jest.\n\nThe attendants were delighted with the new joke. Paying no attention\nexcept laughter to Robert\u2019s cries and explanations, they thrust him from\nthe banquet hall and down the stairs. A crowd of pages ran before him\nthrowing the doors wide open with mock ceremony, while the boisterous\nmen-at-arms shouted \u201cLong live the King\u201d with noisy glee.\n\nHow he got through the evening King Robert hardly knew. He was so tired\nwhen he was shown at last to his comfortless straw bed that he slept\nbetter than he had done many a night on his royal couch.\n\nThe next morning he awoke with the day.\n\n\u201cWhat a curious dream I have had,\u201d he exclaimed sleepily.\n\nBut it was no dream. Straw rustled as he turned his head and by his side\nwere the cap and bells which he was to put on. His room was bare, its\nwalls were discolored, and presently he heard horses stamping in their\nnear-by stalls. He was in a stable. The monkey was there, too; King\nRobert saw the horrid thing grinning and chattering in a corner. His past\nlife seemed far away. He had to begin to live again, this time the butt\nand the jest of the palace.\n\nDays came and went, and the Angel still sat on the throne. The island of\nSicily prospered under his reign. The crops were good, the vintage was\nabundant and the people were happy.\n\nKing Robert yielded to fate, but he did not yield willingly. He became\nsullen and silent and was a sorry jester in spite of his gay dress and\nhis jingling bells and the chattering monkey. The courtiers mocked him in\ninnumerable ways and the nimble pages played pranks on him; he had to be\ncontent with scraps from the tables of his masters, and the monkey was\nhis only friend.\n\nSometimes the Angel asked him, as though in jest, \u201cArt thou the king?\u201d\nand Robert, still defiant, replied haughtily, \u201cI am, I am the king!\u201d\n\nAlmost three years passed. Then messengers came from Valmond, Emperor of\nGermany, to tell King Robert that their brother, Pope Urbane, summoned\nhim to come on Holy Thursday to his city, Rome. The Angel welcomed the\nambassadors with fitting ceremony, and gave them magnificent presents,\nembroidered vests, velvet mantles, rare jewels and costly rings. Not only\nwere his guests messengers from the great Valmond but they were mighty\nnobles.\n\nAs soon as he could get ready the Angel went with the ambassadors and\na mighty train of followers over the sea to Italy. As the procession\ntravelled along crowds gathered to watch its progress. Never had there\nbeen seen a more gorgeous assembly. The Angel and his courtiers and the\nambassadors were dressed in splendid garments with gold and gems and\nlaces and embroideries and velvets and satins and nodding plumes, each\none according to his state, and their horses were resplendent with\ngold and silver and jeweled bridles. After them rode the servants, less\nfine but equally gay, and among the lowliest of these was poor Robert\nriding in mock state on an awkward piebald pony. As the ridiculous steed\nshambled along, his rider\u2019s cloak of fox-tails flapped in the wind and\nhis bells jingled. The king was very unhappy and his face showed it, but\nit was only a joke for a jester to look disconsolate and people were no\nmore sorry for him than for the solemn monkey who perched demurely by his\nside and aped his ways. In all the country towns through which they went\nthe gaping crowds stared at them and laughed.\n\nThe Pope received the Angel and the emperor with pomp. Trumpets sounded\na welcome and banners waved joyously, as they met on St. Peter\u2019s square.\nThe Pope embraced and blessed his brothers, as he thought, for even\nhe did not know that he was entertaining an Angel. While prayers and\nrejoicing were at their height Robert the jester burst through the crowd\nand rushed into the presence of the Pope and his guests.\n\n\u201cI am the king,\u201d he cried, addressing the Pope, \u201clook and behold in me\nRobert, your brother, King of Sicily. That man who looks like me and\nwears my robes and my crown is an impostor. Do you not know me? Does\nnothing tell you that we are akin?\u201d\n\nRobert was desperate. This seemed his last chance of regaining his\nrights. He was appealing to the highest authority in the world.\n\nThe Pope looked troubled. He turned silently from Robert to the Angel\nwith searching glances. The Angel met his scrutiny with perfect serenity.\nValmond only laughed.\n\n\u201cIt is strange sport to have a madman for thy jester,\u201d he said to the\nAngel, whom he believed to be his brother.\n\nThe baffled jester was hustled back into the crowd. He was in disgrace\nand suffered punishment for his untimely joke.\n\nHoly Week went by in solemn state, and Easter Sunday came. On that\nblessed morning the city was radiant with light even before the sun rose.\nThe Angel\u2019s presence made Rome bright, and filled men\u2019s hearts with love\nand goodness. They felt as though Christ had indeed risen from the dead\nand were ready to devote themselves to him with fresh zeal. Even the\njester, as he opened his eyes to the marvelous light felt within his\nheart a power that he had never felt before. What mattered it that his\nbed was straw? He fell on his knees beside it and prayed to the risen\nChrist.\n\nWhen the visit was ended Valmond returned to Germany and the Angel and\nhis train once more flashed along the towns of Italy and then set sail\nfor Sicily. When they reached home the Angel occupied the throne as\nbefore. Robert could not understand it but he was humbled and no longer\nfelt angry and bitter.\n\nOne evening when the convent bells were ringing for prayer the Angel\nbeckoned to Robert to draw near and signed to the attendants to leave the\nroom. When they were alone the Angel turned to Robert and asked with\nless sternness than ever before, \u201cArt thou the king?\u201d\n\nKing Robert bowed his head meekly and crossed his hands upon his breast.\n\n\u201cThou knowest best,\u201d he said. \u201cI have sinned. Let me go away from here\nand spend the rest of my days in a convent cell. There, kneeling on\nstones, I will beg heaven to forgive my pride.\u201d\n\nThe Angel smiled and the place was filled with a heavenly light. At the\nsame moment through the open windows came the chant of the monks:\n\n \u201cHe has put down the mighty from their seat\n And has exalted them of low degree.\u201d\n\nKing Robert understood it at last. Then above the measured tones of the\nsingers rose another voice, one of heavenly sweetness. It said:\n\n\u201cI am an Angel, thou art the king.\u201d\n\nThe king lifted his eyes. He was alone. No longer was he dressed in the\nmotley attire of a jester, but he was in royal robes such as he used to\nwear, in velvet and ermine and cloth of gold.\n\nWhen the courtiers came back to the room they found their king on his\nknees, absorbed in silent prayer.\n\n\n\n\nTHE RIDDLE OF THE SPHINX\n\nBy Elsie Finnimore Buckley\n\n\nLong ago, in the city of Thebes, there ruled a king named Laius and\nhis queen Iocasta. They were children of the gods, and Thebes itself,\nmen said, had been built by hands more than mortal; for Apollo had led\nCadmus the Ph\u0153nician, the son of Zeus, to the sacred spot where he was\nto raise the citadel of Thebes, and Pallas Athene had help him to slay\nthe monstrous dragon that guarded the sacred spring of Ares. The teeth of\nthe dragon Cadmus took and planted in the plain of Thebes, and from this\nseed there sprang up a great host of armed men, who would have slain him;\nbut he took a stone and cast it in their midst, whereupon the serpent men\nturned their arms one against another, fighting up and down the plain\ntill only five were left. With the help of these five, Cadmus built the\ncitadel of Thebes, and round it made a wall so wide that a dozen men and\nmore might walk upon it, and so huge were the stones and so strong was\nthe masonry that parts of it are standing to this day.\n\nAs for the city itself, the tale goes that Amphion, the mightiest of all\nmusicians, came with his lyre, and so sweetly did he play that the hearts\nof the very stones were stirred within them, so that of their own free\nwill they fell into their places, and the town of Thebes rose up beneath\nthe shadow of the citadel.\n\nFor many a long day did Laius and Iocasta rule over the people of Thebes,\nand all that time they had no children; for a dreadful curse lay on the\nhead of Laius that, if ever he had a son, by that son\u2019s hand he should\ndie. At last a boy was born to them, and Laius, remembering the curse,\nswore that the child should never grow to manhood, and he bade Iocasta\nslay him forthwith. But she, being his mother, was filled with a great\nlove and pity for the helpless child. When it nestled in her arms and\nclung to her breast she could not find it in her heart to slay it, and\nshe wept over it many a bitter salt tear, and pressed it closer to her\nbosom.\n\nSo she called a trusty house slave, who knew the king\u2019s decree, and\nplacing the child in his arms, she said: \u201cGo, take it away, and hide it\nin the hills. Perchance the gods will have pity on it, and put it in the\nheart of some shepherd, who feeds his flocks on distant pastures, to take\nthe child home to his cot and rear it. Farewell, my pretty babe. The\ngreen grass must be thy cradle, and the mountain breezes must lull thee\nto sleep. May the gods in their mercy bless thy childhood\u2019s hours, and\nmake thy name famous among men; for thou art a king\u2019s son, and a child of\nthe Immortals, and the Immortals forget not those that are born of their\nblood.\u201d\n\nSo the man took the child from Iocasta; but, because he feared the king\u2019s\ndecree, he pierced its ankles and bound them together, for he thought:\n\u201cSurely, even if some shepherd wandering on the mountainside should\nlight upon the child, he will never rear one so maimed; and if the king\nshould ask, I will say that he is dead.\u201d\n\nBut because the child wept for the pain in its ankles, he took it home\nfirst to his wife to be fed and comforted, and when she gave it back into\nhis arms, it smiled up into his face. Then all the hardness died out of\nhis heart, for the gods had shed about it a grace to kindle love in the\ncoldest breast.\n\nNow Cith\u00e6ron lies midway between Thebes and Corinth, and in winter-time\nthe snow lies deep upon the summit, and the wild winds shriek through\nthe rocks and clefts, and the pine trees pitch and bend beneath the fury\nof the blast, so that men called it the home of the Furies, the awful\ngoddesses, who track out sin and murder. And there, too, in the streams\nand caverns, dwell the naiads and the nymphs, wild spirits of the rocks\nand waters, and if any mortal trespass on their haunts, they drive him to\nmadness in their echoing grottoes and gloomy caves. Yet, for all that,\nthough men called it dark Cith\u00e6ron, the grass about its feet grew fine\nand green, so that the shepherds came from all the neighboring towns to\npasture their flocks on its well-watered slopes. Here it was that Laius\u2019s\nherdsman fell in with a herdsman of Polybus, King of Corinth, and, seeing\nthat he was a kindly man, and likely to have compassion on the child, he\ngave it to him to rear.\n\nNow, it had not pleased the gods to grant any children to Polybus, King\nof Corinth, and Merope, his wife, though they wreathed their altars with\ngarlands and burnt sweet savor of incense; and at last all hope died out\nof their hearts, and they said: \u201cThe gods are angry, and will destroy our\nrace, and the kingdom shall pass into the hands of a stranger.\u201d\n\nBut one day it chanced that the queen saw in the arms of one of her women\na child she had not seen before, and she questioned her, and asked if it\nwere hers. And the woman confessed that her husband, the king\u2019s herdsman,\nhad found it on dim Cith\u00e6ron, and had taken pity on it, and brought it\nhome.\n\nThen the queen looked at the child, and seeing that it was passing fair,\nshe said: \u201cSurely this is no common babe, but a child of the Immortals.\nHis hair is golden as the summer corn, and his eyes like the stars in\nheaven. What if the gods have sent him to comfort our old age, and rule\nthe kingdom when we are dead? I will rear him in the palace as my own\nson, and he shall be a prince in the land of Corinth.\u201d\n\nSo the child lived in the palace, and became a son of Polybus and Merope,\nand heir to the kingdom. For want of a name they called him \u0152dipus,\nbecause his ankles, when they found him, were all swollen by the pin that\nthe herdsman had put through them. As he grew up, he found favor in all\nmen\u2019s eyes, for he was tall and comely and cunning withal.\n\n\u201cThe gods are gracious,\u201d men said, \u201cto grant the king such a son, and the\npeople of Corinth so mighty a prince, to rule over them in days to come.\u201d\nFor as yet they knew not that he was a foundling, and no true heir to the\nthrone.\n\nNow, while the child was still young, he played about the courts of the\npalace, and in running and leaping and in feats of strength and hardihood\nof heart there was none to beat him among his playmates, or even to stand\nup against him, save one. But so well matched were these two that the\nother children would gather round them in a ring to watch them box and\nwrestle, and the victor they would carry on their shoulders round the\nechoing galleries with shouting and clapping of hands; and sometimes\nit was \u0152dipus, and sometimes the other lad. But at length there came a\ntime when again and again \u0152dipus was proved the stronger, and again and\nagain the other slunk home beaten, like a dog that has been whipped: and\nhe brooded over his defeat, and nourished hatred in his heart against\n\u0152dipus, and vowed that one day he would have his revenge by fair means or\nby foul.\n\nBut when Merope the queen saw \u0152dipus growing tall and fair, and\nsurpassing all his comrades in strength, she took him up one day on\nto the citadel, and showed him all the lovely land of Hellas lying at\nhis feet. Below them spread the shining city, with its colonnades and\nfountains and stately temples of the gods, like some jewel of the golden\nsands, and far away to the westward stretched the blue Corinthian Gulf.\nAnd she showed him the hills of Arcadia, the land of song and shepherds,\nwhere Pan plays his pipe beneath the oak trees, and nymphs and satyrs\ndance all the day long. Away to the bleak northwest stood out the snowy\npeaks of Mount Parnassus and Helicon, the home of the Muses, who fill\nmen\u2019s minds with wisdom and their hearts with the love of all things\nbeautiful. Then Merope turned him to the eastward and the land of the\nDawning Day, and showed him the purple peaks of \u00c6gina and the gleaming\nAttic shore. And she said to him: \u201c\u0152dipus, my son, seest thou how Corinth\nlies midway \u2019twixt north and south and east and west, a link to join the\nlands together and a barrier to separate the seas?\u201d\n\nAnd \u0152dipus answered: \u201cOf a truth, mother, he who rules in Corinth hath\nneed of a lion\u2019s heart, for he must stand ever sword in hand and guard\nthe passage from north to south.\u201d\n\n\u201cCourage is a mighty thing, my son, but wisdom is mightier. The sword\nlayeth low, but wisdom buildeth up. Seest thou the harbors on either\nside, facing east and west, and the masts of the ships, like a forest in\nwinter, and the traffic of sailors and merchants on the shore? From all\nlands they come and bring their wares and merchandise, and men of every\nnation meet together. Think not, my son, that a lion\u2019s heart and a fool\u2019s\nhead therewith can ever be a match for the wisdom of Egypt or the cunning\nof Ph\u0153nicia.\u201d\n\nThen \u0152dipus understood and said: \u201cTill now I have wrestled and boxed and\nrun races with my fellows on the sands the livelong day, and none can\nbeat me. Henceforth I will sit in the market-place and discourse with\nforeigners and learned men, so that, when I come to rule in my father\u2019s\nplace, I may be the wisest in all the land.\u201d\n\nAnd Merope was pleased at his answer, but in her heart she was sad that\nhis simple childish days were past; and she prayed that if the gods\ngranted him wisdom they would keep his heart pure and free from all\nuncleanness.\n\nSo \u0152dipus sat in the market-place and talked with merchants and\ntravellers, and he went down to the ships in the harbor and learned many\nstrange things of strange lands\u2014the wisdom of the Egyptians, who were\nthe wisest of all men in the south, and the cunning of the Ph\u0153nicians,\nwho were the greatest merchants and sailors in all the world. But in the\nevening, when the sun was low in the west, and the hills all turned to\namethyst and sapphire, and the snow mountains blushed ruby red beneath\nhis parting kiss, then along the smooth, gold sands of the Isthmus, by\nthe side of the sounding sea, he would box and wrestle and run, till all\nthe ways were darkened and the stars stood out in the sky. For he was a\ntrue son of Hellas, and knew that nine times out of every ten a slack\nbody and a slack mind go together.\n\nSo he grew up in his beauty, a very god for wisdom and might, and there\nwas no question he could not answer nor riddle he could not solve, so\nthat all the land looked up to him, and the king and queen loved him as\ntheir own son.\n\nNow one day there was a great banquet in the palace, to which all the\nnoblest of the land were bidden, and the minstrels played and the\ntumblers danced and the wine flowed freely round the board, so that\nmen\u2019s hearts were opened, and they talked of great deeds and heroes, and\nboasted what they themselves could do. And \u0152dipus boasted as loud as any,\nand challenged one and all to meet him in fair fight. But the youth who\nhad grown up with him in rivalry, and nourished jealousy and hatred in\nhis heart, taunted him to his face, and said: \u201cBase born that thou art,\nand son of slave, thinkest thou that free men will fight with thee? Lions\nfight not with curs, and though thou clothe thyself with purple and gold,\nall men know that thou art no true son to him thou callest thy sire.\u201d\n\nAnd this he said being flushed with wine, and because myriad-mouthed\nRumor had spread abroad the tale that \u0152dipus was a foundling, though he\nhimself knew naught thereof.\n\nThen \u0152dipus flushed red with rage, and swift as a gale that sweeps down\nfrom the mountains he fell upon the other, and seizing him by the throat,\nhe shook him till he had not a breath to beg for mercy. \u201cWhat sayest thou\nnow, thou whelp? Begone with thy lying taunt, now that thou hast licked\nthe dust for thy falsehood.\u201d\n\nAnd he flung him out from the hall. But Merope leant pale and sad against\na pillar, and veiled her face in her mantle to hide her tears. And when\nthey were alone, \u0152dipus took her hand and stroked it, and said: \u201cGrieve\nnot for my fiery spirit, mother, but call me thine own son, and say that\nI was right to silence the liar who would cast dishonor upon my father\u2019s\nname and upon thee.\u201d\n\nBut she looked at him sadly and longingly through her tears, and spoke in\nriddling words: \u201cThe gods, my child, sent thee to thy father and to me\nin answer to our prayers. A gift of God thou art, and a gift of God thou\nshalt be, living and dead, to them that love thee. The flesh groweth old\nand withereth away as a leaf, but the spirit liveth on forever, and those\nare the truest of kin who are kin in the spirit of goodness and of love.\u201d\n\nBut \u0152dipus was troubled, for she would say no more, but only held his\nhand, and when he drew it away it was wet with her tears. Then he thought\nin his heart: \u201cVerily my mother would not weep for naught. What if, after\nall, there be something in the tale? I will go to the central shrine of\nHellas and ask the god of Truth, golden-haired Apollo. If he say it is\na lie, verily I will thrust it back down that coward\u2019s throat, and the\nwhole land shall ring with his infamy. And if it be true\u2014the gods will\nguide me how to act.\u201d\n\nSo he set forth alone upon his pilgrimage. He drew near to the sacred\nplace and made due sacrifice, and washed in the great stone basin, and\nput away all uncleanness from his heart, and went through the portals of\nrock to the awful shrine within, where the undying fire burns night and\nday and the sacred laurel stands. And he put his question to the god and\nwaited for an answer.\n\nThrough the dim darkness of the shrine he saw the priestess on her\ntripod, veiled in a mist of incense and vapor, and as the power of the\ngod came upon her she beheld the things of the future and the hidden\nsecrets of Fate. And she raised her hand toward \u0152dipus, and with pale\nlips spoke the words of doom: \u201c\u0152dipus ill-fated, thine own sire shalt\nthou slay.\u201d\n\nAs she spoke the words his head swam round like a whirlpool, and his\nheart seemed turned to stone; then, with a loud and bitter cry, he\nrushed from the temple, through the thronging crowd of pilgrims down\ninto the Sacred Way, and the people moved out of his path like shadows.\nBlindly he sped along the stony road, down through the pass to a place\nwhere three roads meet, and he shuddered as he crossed them; for Fear\nlaid her cold hand upon his heart and filled it with a wild, unreasoning\ndread, and branded the image of that awful spot upon his brain so that he\ncould never forget it. On every side the mountains frowned down upon him,\nand seemed to echo to and fro the doom which the priestess had spoken.\nStraight forward he went like some hunted thing, turning neither to right\nnor left, till he came to a narrow path, where he met an old man in a\nchariot drawn by mules, with his trusty servants round him.\n\n\u201cHo! there, thou madman!\u201d they shouted; \u201cstand by and let the chariot\npass.\u201d\n\n\u201cMadmen yourselves,\u201d he cried, for his sore heart could not brook the\ntaunt. \u201cI am a king\u2019s son, and will stand aside for no man.\u201d\n\nSo he tried to push past them by force, though he was one against many.\nAnd the old man stretched out his hand as though to stop him, but as\nwell might a child hope to stand up against a wild bull. For he thrust\nhim aside and felled him from his seat, and turned upon his followers,\nand, striking out to right and left, he stunned one and slew another, and\nforced his way through in blind fury. But the old man lay stiff and still\nupon the road. The fall from the chariot had quenched the feeble spark of\nlife within him, and his spirit fled away to the house of Hades and the\nKingdom of the Dead. One trusty servant lay slain by his side, and the\nother senseless and stunned, and when he awoke, to find his master and\nhis comrades slain, \u0152dipus was far upon his way.\n\nOn and on he went, over hill and dale and mountain stream, till at length\nhis strength gave way, and he sank down exhausted. And black despair laid\nhold of his heart, and he said within himself: \u201cBetter to die here on\nthe bare hillside and be food for the kites and crows than return to my\nfather\u2019s house to bring death to him and sorrow to my mother\u2019s heart.\u201d\n\nBut sweet sleep fell upon him, and when he awoke hope and the love of\nlife put other thoughts in his breast. And he remembered the words which\nMerope the queen had spoke to him one day when he was boasting of his\nstrength and skill.\n\n\u201cStrength and skill, my son, are the gifts of the gods, as the rain which\nfalleth from heaven and giveth life and increase to the fruits of the\nearth. But man\u2019s pride is an angry flood that bringeth destruction on\nfield and city. Remember that great gifts may work great good or great\nevil, and he who has them must answer to the gods if he use them well or\nill.\u201d\n\nAnd he thought within himself: \u201c\u2019Twere ill to die if, even in the\nuttermost parts of the earth, men need a strong man\u2019s arm and a wise\nman\u2019s cunning. Never more will I return to far-famed Corinth and my\nhome by the sounding sea, but to far-distant lands will I go and bring\nblessing to those who are not of my kin, since to mine own folk I must be\na curse if ever I return.\u201d\n\nSo he went along the road from Delphi till he came to seven-gated\nThebes. There he found all the people in deep distress and mourning, for\ntheir king Laius was dead, slain by robbers on the highroad, and they\nhad buried him far from his native land at a place where three roads\nmeet. And, worse still, their city was beset by a terrible monster, the\nSphinx, part eagle and part lion, with the face of a woman, who every day\ndevoured a man because they could not answer the riddle she set them.\n\nAll this \u0152dipus heard as he stood in the market place and talked with the\npeople.\n\n\u201cWhat is this famous riddle that none can solve?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cAlas! young man, that none can say. For he that would solve the riddle\nmust go up alone to the rock where she sits. Then and there she chants\nthe riddle, and if he answer it not forthwith she tears him limb from\nlimb. And if none go up to try the riddle, then she swoops down upon the\ncity and carries off her victims, and spares not woman or child. Our\nwisest and bravest have gone up, and our eyes have seen them no more. Now\nthere is no man left who dare face the terrible beast.\u201d\n\nThen \u0152dipus said: \u201cI will go up and face this monster. It must be a hard\nriddle indeed if I cannot answer it.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, overbold and rash,\u201d they cried, \u201cthinkest thou to succeed where so\nmany have failed?\u201d\n\n\u201cBetter to try, and fail, than never to try at all.\u201d\n\n\u201cYet, where failure is death, surely a man should think twice?\u201d\n\n\u201cA man can die but once, and how better than in trying to save his\nfellows?\u201d\n\nAs they looked at his strong young limbs and his fair young face they\npitied him. \u201cStranger,\u201d they said, \u201cwho art thou to throw away thy life\nthus heedlessly? Are there none at home to mourn thee and no kingdom thou\nshouldst rule? For, of a truth, thou art a king\u2019s son and no common man.\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, were I to return, my home would be plunged in mourning and woe, and\nthe people would drive me from my father\u2019s house.\u201d\n\nThey marveled at his answer, but dared question him no further; and,\nseeing that nothing would turn him from his purpose, they showed him the\npath to the Sphinx\u2019s rock, and all the people went out with him to the\ngate with prayers and blessings. At the gate they left him, for he who\ngoes up to face the Sphinx must go alone, and none can stand by and help\nhim. So he went through the Crenean gate and across the stream of Dirce\ninto the wide plain, and the mountain of the Sphinx stood out dark and\nclear on the other side. Then he prayed to Pallas Athene, the gray-eyed\ngoddess of Wisdom, and she took all fear from his heart. So he went up\nboldly to the rock, where the monster sat waiting to spring upon her\nprey; yet for all his courage his heart beat fast as he looked on her.\nFor at first she appeared like a mighty bird, with great wings of bronze\nand gold, and the glancing sunbeams played about them, casting a halo\nof light around, and in the midst of the halo her face shone out pale\nand beautiful as a star at dawn. But when she saw him coming near, a\ngreedy fire lit up her eyes, and she put out her cruel claws and lashed\nher tail from side to side like an angry lion waiting for his prey.\nNevertheless, \u0152dipus spoke to her fair and softly: \u201cOh, lady, I am come\nto hear thy famous riddle and answer it or die.\u201d\n\n\u201cFoolhardy manling, a dainty morsel the gods have sent this day, with thy\nfair young face and fresh young limbs.\u201d And she licked her cruel lips.\n\nThen \u0152dipus felt his blood boil within him, and he wished to slay her\nthen and there; for she who had been the fairest of women was now the\nfoulest of beasts, and he saw that by her cruelty she had killed the\nwoman\u2019s soul within her, and the soul of a beast had taken its place.\n\n\u201cCome, tell me thy famous riddle, foul Fury that thou art, that I may\nanswer it and rid the land of this curse.\u201d\n\n\u201cAt dawn it creeps on four legs; at noon it strides on two; at sunset and\nevening it totters on three. What is this thing, never the same, yet not\nmany, but one?\u201d So she chanted slowly, and her eyes gleamed cruel and\ncold.\n\nThen thought \u0152dipus within himself: \u201cNow or never must my learning and\nwit stand me in good stead, or in vain have I talked with the wisest of\nmen and learnt the secrets of Ph\u0153nicia and Egypt.\u201d\n\nAnd the gods who had given him understanding sent light into his heart,\nand boldly he answered: \u201cWhat can this creature be but man, O Sphinx?\nFor, a helpless babe at the dawn of life, he crawls on his hands and\nfeet; at noontide he walks erect in the strength of his manhood; and at\nevening he supports his tottering limbs with a staff, the prop and stay\nof old age. Have I not answered aright and guessed thy famous riddle?\u201d\n\nThen with a loud cry of despair, and answering him never a word, the\ngreat beast sprang up from her seat on the rock and hurled herself over\nthe precipice into the yawning gulf beneath. Far away across the plain\nthe people heard her cry, and they saw the flash of the sun on her brazen\nwings like a gleam of lightning in the summer sky. Thereupon they sent up\na great shout of joy to heaven, and poured out from every gate into the\nopen plain, and some raised \u0152dipus upon their shoulders, and with shouts\nand songs of triumph bore him to the city. Then and there they made him\nking with one accord, for the old king had left no son behind him, and\nwho more fitted to rule over them than the slayer of the Sphinx and the\nsavior of their city?\n\nSo \u0152dipus became King of Thebes, and wisely and well did he rule, and for\nmany a long year the land prospered both in peace and war.\n\nBut the day came when a terrible pestilence broke out, and the people\ndied by hundreds, so that at last \u0152dipus sent messengers to Delphi to ask\nwhy the gods were angry and had sent a plague upon the land. And this\nwas the answer they brought back: \u201cThere is an unclean thing in Thebes.\nNever has the murderer of Laius been found, and he dwells a pollution in\nthe land. Though the vengeance of the gods is slow, yet it cometh without\nfail, and the shedding of blood shall not pass unpunished.\u201d\n\nThen \u0152dipus made proclamation through the land that if any man knew who\nthe murderer was, they should give him up to his doom and appease the\nanger of Heaven. And he laid a terrible curse on any who dared to give\nso much as a crust of bread or a draft of water to him who had brought\nsuch suffering on the land. So throughout the country far and wide a\nsearch was made to track out the stain of blood and cleanse the city from\npollution, but day after day the quest was fruitless, and the pestilence\nraged unceasingly, and darkness fell upon the soul of the people, as\ntheir prayers remained unanswered and their burnt-offerings smoked in\nvain upon the altars of the gods. Then at last \u0152dipus sent for the blind\nseer Teiresias, who had lived through six generations of mortal men, and\nwas the wisest of all prophets on earth. He knew the language of the\nbirds, and, though his eyes were closed in darkness, his ears were opened\nto hear the secrets of the universe, and he knew the hidden things of\nthe past and of the future. But at first when he came before the king he\nwould tell him nothing, but begged him to question no further. \u201cFor the\nthings of the future will come of themselves,\u201d he cried, \u201cthough I shroud\nthem in silence, and evil will it be for thee, O king, and evil for thine\nhouse if I speak out the knowledge that is hidden in my heart.\u201d\n\nAt last \u0152dipus grew angry at his silence, and taunted him: \u201cVerily,\nmethinks thou thyself didst aid in the plotting of this deed, seeing that\nthou carest naught for the people bowed down beneath the pestilence and\nthe dark days that are fallen on the land, so be it thou canst shield the\nmurderer and escape thyself from the curse of the gods.\u201d\n\nThen Teiresias was stung past bearing, and would hold his tongue no\nlonger. \u201cBy thine own doom shalt thou be judged, O king,\u201d he said. \u201cThou\nthyself art the murderer, thyself the pollution that staineth the land\nwith the blood of innocent men.\u201d\n\nThen \u0152dipus laughed aloud: \u201cVerily, old man, thou pratest. What rival\nhath urged thee to this lie, hoping to drive me from the throne of\nThebes? Of a truth, not thine eyes only, but thy heart, is shrouded in a\nmist of darkness.\u201d\n\n\u201cWoe to thee, \u0152dipus, woe to thee! Thou hast sight, yet seest not who\nthou art, nor knowest the deed of thine hand. Soon shalt thou wander\nsightless and blind, a stranger in a strange land, feeling the ground\nwith a staff, and men shall shrink back from thee in horror when they\nhear thy name and the deed that thou hast done.\u201d\n\nAnd the people were hushed by the words of the old man, and knew not what\nto think. But the wife of \u0152dipus, who stood by his side, said: \u201cHearken\nnot to him, my lord. For verily no mortal can search the secrets of Fate,\nas I can prove full well by the words of this same man that he spoke in\nprophecy. For he it was who said that Laius, the king who is dead, should\nbe slain by the hand of his own son. However, that poor innocent never\ngrew to manhood, but was exposed on the trackless mountainside to die of\ncold and hunger; and Laius, men say, was slain by robber bands at a place\nwhere three roads meet. So hearken not to seer-craft, ye people, nor\ntrust in the words of one who is proved a false prophet.\u201d\n\nBut her words brought no comfort to \u0152dipus, and a dreadful fear came into\nhis heart, like a cold, creeping snake, as he listened. For he thought\nof his journey from Delphi, and of how in his frenzy he had struck down\nan old man and his followers at a place where three roads meet. When\nhe questioned her further, the time and the place and the company all\ntallied, save only that rumor had it that Laius had been slain by robber\nbands, while he had been single-handed against many.\n\n\u201cWas there none left,\u201d he asked, \u201cwho saw the deed and lived to tell the\ntale?\u201d\n\n\u201cYea, one faithful follower returned to bear the news, but so soon as the\nSphinx was slain and the people had made thee king he went into distant\npastures with his flocks, for he could not brook to see a stranger in his\nmaster\u2019s place, albeit he had saved the land from woe.\u201d\n\n\u201cGo, summon him,\u201d said \u0152dipus. \u201cIf the murderers were many, as rumor\nsaith, with his aid we may track them out; but if he was one man\nsingle-handed\u2014yea, though that man were myself\u2014of a truth he shall be an\noutcast from the land, that the plague may be stayed from the people.\nVerily, my queen, my heart misgives me when I remember my wrath and the\ndeed that I wrought at the cross-roads.\u201d\n\nIn vain she tried to comfort him, for a nameless fear had laid hold of\nhis heart.\n\nNow, while they were waiting for the herdsman to come, a messenger\narrived in haste from Corinth to say that Polybus was dead, and that\n\u0152dipus was chosen king of the land, for his fame had gone out far and\nwide as the slayer of the Sphinx and the wisest of the kings of Hellas.\n\nWhen \u0152dipus heard the news, he bowed his head in sorrow to hear of the\ndeath of the father he had loved, and turning to the messenger, he said,\n\u201cFor many a long year my heart hath yearned toward him who is dead, and\nverily my soul is grieved that I shall see him no more in the pleasant\nlight of the sun. But for the oracle\u2019s sake I stayed in exile, that my\nhand might not be red with a father\u2019s blood. And now I thank the gods\nthat he has passed away in a green old age, in the fullness of years and\nof honor.\u201d But the messenger wondered at his words. \u201cKnewest thou not,\nthen, that Polybus was no father to thee in the flesh, but that for thy\nbeauty and thy strength he chose thee out of all the land to be a son to\nhim and heir to the kingdom of Corinth?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat sayest thou, bearer of ill news that thou art?\u201d cried \u0152dipus.\n\u201cTo prove that same tale of thine a slanderous lie I went to Delphi,\nand there the priestess prophesied that I should slay mine own sire.\nWherefore I went not back to my native land, but have lived in exile all\nmy days.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen in darkness of soul hast thou lived, O king. For with mine own\nhands I received thee as a babe from a shepherd on dim Cith\u00e6ron, from one\nof the herdsmen of Laius, who was king before thee in this land.\u201d\n\n\u201cWoe is me, then! The curse of the gods is over me yet. I know not my\nsire, and unwittingly I may slay him and rue the evil day. And a cloud\nof darkness hangeth over me for the slaying of King Laius. But lo! they\nbring the herdsman who saw the deed done, and pray Heaven he may clear me\nfrom all guilt. Bring him forward that I may question him.\u201d\n\nThen they brought the man forward before the king, though he shrank back\nand tried to hide himself. When the messenger from Corinth saw him he\nstarted back in surprise, for it was the very man from whose hands he had\ntaken \u0152dipus on the mountainside. And he said to the king, \u201cBehold the\nman who will tell thee the secret of thy birth. From his hands did I take\nthee as a babe on dim Cith\u00e6ron.\u201d\n\nThen \u0152dipus questioned the man, and at first he denied it from fear, but\nat last he was fain to confess. \u201cAnd who gave me to thee to slay on the\nbarren mountainside?\u201d\n\n\u201cI pray thee, my king, ask no more. Some things there are that are better\nunsaid.\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, tell me, and fear not. I care not if I am a child of shame and\nslavery stains my birth. A son of Fortune the gods have made me, and have\ngiven me good days with evil. Speak out, I pray thee. Though I be the son\nof a slave, I can bear it.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo son of a slave art thou, but seed of a royal house. Ask no more, my\nking.\u201d\n\n\u201cSpeak, speak, man. Thou drivest me to anger, and I will make thee tell,\nthough it be by force.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! lay not cruel hands upon me. For thine own sake I would hide it.\nFrom the queen thy mother I had thee, and thy father was\u2014Laius the\nking. At the cross-roads from Delphi didst thou meet him in his chariot,\nand slew him unwittingly in thy wrath. Ah, woe is me! For the gods have\nchosen me out to be an unwilling witness to the truth of their oracles.\u201d\n\nThen a great hush fell upon all the people like the lull before a storm.\nFor the words of the herdsman were so strange and terrible that at\nfirst they could scarce take in their meaning. But when they understood\nthat \u0152dipus was Laius\u2019s own son, and that he had fulfilled the dreadful\nprophecy and slain his sire, a great tumult arose, some saying one thing\nand some another; but the voice of \u0152dipus was heard above the uproar,\n\u201cAh, woe is me, woe is me! The curse of the gods is upon me, and none\ncan escape their wrath. Blindly have I done this evil, and when I was\nstriving to escape Fate caught me in her hidden meshes. Oh, foolish\nhearts of men, to think that ye can flee from the doom of the gods; for\nlo! ye strive in the dark, and your very struggles bind you but closer in\nthe snare of your fate. Cast me from the land, ye people; do with me what\nye will. For the gods have made me a curse and a pollution, and by my\ndeath alone will the land have rest from pestilence.\u201d\n\nAnd the people would have taken him at his word; for fickle is the\nheart of the multitude, and swayed this way and that by every breath of\ncalamity.\n\nThey were sore stricken, too, by the pestilence, and in their wrath\nagainst the cause of it they forgot the slaying of the Sphinx and the\nlong days of peace and prosperity. But the blind seer Teiresias rose up\nin their midst, and at his voice the people were silent.\n\n\u201cCitizens of Cadmus, foolish and blind of heart! Will ye slay the savior\nof your city? Have ye forgotten the man-devouring Sphinx and the days of\ndarkness? Verily prosperity blunteth the edge of gratitude. And thou,\n\u0152dipus, curse not the gods for thine evil fate. He that putteth his\nfinger in the fire is burnt, whether he do it knowingly or not. As to thy\nsire, him indeed didst thou slay in ignorance but the shedding of man\u2019s\nblood be upon thine own head, for that was the fruit of thy wrathful\nspirit, which, through lack of curbing, broke forth like an angry beast.\nHadst thou never slain a man, never wouldst thou have slain thy sire.\nBut now thou art a pollution to the land of thy birth, and by long exile\nand wandering must thou expiate thy sin and die a stranger in a strange\nland. Yet methinks that in the dark mirror of prophecy I see thy form,\nas it were, a guardian to the land of thy last resting-place, and in a\ngrove of sacred trees thy spirit\u2019s lasting habitation, when thy feet have\naccomplished the ways of expiation and the days of thy wandering are\ndone.\u201d\n\nSo the people were silenced. But \u0152dipus would not be comforted, and in\nhis shame and misery he put out his own eyes because they had looked on\nunspeakable things. Then he clothed himself in rags and took a pilgrim\u2019s\nstaff, to go forth alone upon his wanderings. And the people were glad\nat his going, because the plague had hardened their hearts, and they\ncared nothing for his gray hairs and sightless eyes, nor remembered all\nhe had done for them, but thought only how the plague might be stayed.\nEven Eteocles and Polynices, his own sons, showed no pity, but would\nhave let him go forth alone, that they might live on the fatness of the\nland. For their hardness of heart they were punished long after, when\nthey quarreled as to which should be king, and brought down the flood of\nwar upon Thebes, and fell each by the other\u2019s hand in deadly strife. Of\nall his children, Antigone alone refused to let him go forth a solitary\nwanderer, and would listen to none of his entreaties when he spoke of the\nhardness of the way that would lie before them.\n\n\u201cNay, father,\u201d she cried; \u201cthinkest thou that I could suffer thee to\nwander sightless and blind in thine old age with none to stay thy feeble\nsteps or lend thee the light of their eyes?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe road before us is hard and long, my child, and no man can say when\nmy soul shall find rest. The ways of the world are cruel, and men love\nnot the cursed of the gods. As for thee, Heaven bless thee for thy love;\nbut thou art too frail and tender a thing to eat of the bread and drink\nof the waters of sorrow.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, father, thinkest thou that aught could be more bitter than to sit in\nthe seat of kings while thou wanderest a beggar on the face of the earth?\nNay, suffer me to go with thee, and stay thy steps in the days of thy\ntrial.\u201d\n\nNothing he could say would dissuade her. So they two set out alone upon\ntheir wanderings, the old man bowed down beneath the weight of sorrow,\nand the young girl in the freshness of youth and beauty, with a great\nlove in her heart\u2014a bright, burning love which was the light by which she\nlived, and a light which never led her astray.\n\nAt first \u0152dipus was filled with shame and bitterness, and cursed the day\nof his birth and his evil fate; but as time went on he remembered the\nwords of Teiresias\u2014how at his death he should be a blessing to the land\nof his last resting-place; and the hope sprang up in his heart that the\ngods had not forsaken him, but would wipe out the stain of his sin, and\nmake his name once more glorious among men. Daily this hope grew stronger\nand brighter, and he felt that the days of wandering and expiation were\ndrawing to a close, and a mysterious power guided his steps he knew not\nwhither, except that it was toward the goal of his release. And many a\nhero\u2019s grave did they pass and many a sacred shrine, for all along that\nroad men of old raised monuments to the undying glory of the dead and\nthe heritage of honor which they left to unborn generations. And always\nAntigone tended the old man\u2019s feeble steps, and lent him the light of\nher young eyes, till at length they came to white Colonus and the grove\nof the Eumenides. There she set him on a rock to rest his weary limbs.\nAnd the soft spring breezes played about them, and the clear waters of\nCephisus flowed sparkling at their feet to the fertile plain below. In\nthe dark coverts and green glades the nightingale trilled her sweet song,\nand the grass was bright with many a golden crocus and white narcissus\nbloom. As he sat there a great calm filled the old man\u2019s heart, for he\nfelt that the days of his wandering were done.\n\nBut while they were resting a man from the village happened to pass, and\nwhen he saw them he shouted out, \u201cHo! there, impious wanderers, know ye\nnot that ye sit on sacred land and trespass on hallowed ground?\u201d\n\nThen \u0152dipus knew more surely than ever that the day of his release had\ncome. \u201cOh, stranger!\u201d he cried, \u201cwelcome is that which thou sayest. For\nhere shall the words of the prophet be fulfilled, when he said that in a\ngrove of sacred trees my spirit should find rest.\u201d\n\nBut the man was not satisfied, and he called to a band of his countrymen\nwho were in the fields close by. And they came up and spoke roughly to\n\u0152dipus, and asked his name and business. When he told them they were\nfilled with horror, for all men had heard of the slaying of Laius, and\nthey would have turned him out by force.\n\nBut \u0152dipus raised himself from the rock on which he was seated, and in\nspite of his beggar\u2019s rags and sightless eyes, there was a majesty about\nhis face and form that marked him as no common man. \u201cMen of Colonus,\u201d he\nsaid, \u201cye judge by the evil I have done, and not by the good. Have ye\nforgotten the days when the name of \u0152dipus was honored throughout the\nland? Of a truth the days of darkness came, and the stain of my sin found\nme out. But now is my wrathful spirit curbed, and the gods will make me\nonce more a blessing to men. Go, tell your king Theseus, who rules in\nAthena\u2019s sacred citadel, that \u0152dipus is here, and bid him come with all\nspeed if he would win a guardian for this land, an everlasting safeguard\nfor his city in the days of storm and stress.\u201d\n\nSo they sent off a messenger in hot haste, for there was a mysterious\npower about the aged wanderer that none could withstand. And soon Theseus\narrived, himself a mighty hero, who had made Athens a great city and rid\nthe country of many a foul pestilence. And he greeted \u0152dipus courteously\nand kindly, as befitted a great prince, and offered him hospitality.\n\nBut \u0152dipus said, \u201cThe hospitality I crave, O king, is for no brief\nsojourn in this land. Nay, \u2019tis an everlasting home I ask. For the hand\nof Heaven is upon me, and full well I know that this day my soul shall\nleave this frail and broken body. And to thee alone is it given to know\nwhere my bones shall rest\u2014to thee and thy seed after thee. As long as my\nbones shall remain in the land, so long shall my spirit watch over it,\nand men shall call upon my name to turn the tide of battle and stay the\nflood of pestilence and war. Wilt thou come with me, O king, whither the\ngods shall lead, and learn the secret of my grave?\u201d\n\nThen Theseus bowed his head, and answered, \u201cShow thou the way, and I will\ncome.\u201d\n\nSo \u0152dipus turned and led the way into the grove, and Theseus and Antigone\nfollowed after. For a mysterious power seemed to guide him, and he walked\nas one who could see, and his steps were strong and firm as those of a\nman in his prime. Straight into the grove did he go till they came to\nthe heart of the wood, where there was a sacred well beneath a hollow\npear-tree. Close by was a great chasm going deep down into the bowels of\nthe earth, and men called it the Gate of Hades, the Kingdom of the Dead.\n\nWhen they reached the well, \u0152dipus sat down upon a rock and called his\ndaughter to his side, and said, \u201cAntigone, my child, thy hand hath\nministered to me in exile, and smoothed the path for the wanderer\u2019s feet.\nGo now, fetch water, and pour libation and drink-offering to the gods\nbelow. It is the last thing thou canst do for me on earth.\u201d\n\nSo Antigone fetched water from the well, and dressed and tended him, and\npoured libation to the gods.\n\nAnd when she had finished, \u0152dipus drew her to him and kissed her\ntenderly, and said, \u201cGrieve not for me, my child. Well I know that thy\nheart will ache, for love hath made light the burden of toil. But for me\nlife\u2019s day is done, and I go to my rest. Do thou seek thy brethren, and\nbe to them as thou hast been to me. My child, my child, hard is the way\nthat lies before thee, and my soul yearneth over thee for the evil day\nthat shall come. But look thou to thine own pure heart, on which the gods\nhave set the seal of truth that changeth not with passing years, and heed\nnot the counsels of men.\u201d\n\nAnd he held her closely to him, and she clung weeping about his neck. As\nthey sat a hush fell upon the grove, and the nightingales ceased their\nsong, and from the depths of the grove a voice was heard like the voice\nof distant thunder. \u201c\u0152dipus, \u0152dipus, why dost thou tarry?\u201d\n\nWhen they heard it they were afraid. But \u0152dipus rose up and gently put\nhis daughter from him, saying, \u201cLo! the voice of Zeus, who calleth me.\nFare thee well, my child; thou canst go no further with me. For Theseus\nonly is it meet to see the manner of my death, and he and I must go\nforward alone into the wood.\u201d\n\nWith firm, unfaltering steps he led the way once more, and Theseus\nfollowed after. And what happened there none can tell, for Theseus kept\nthe secret to his dying day. But men say that when he came out of the\nwood his face was as the face of one who had seen things passing mortal\nspeech.\n\nAs for \u0152dipus, the great twin Brethren Sleep and Death carried his bones\nto Athens, where the people built him a shrine, and for many a long year\nthey honored him as a hero in the land of Attica. For though the sin that\nhe sinned in his wrath and ignorance was great and terrible, yet his life\nhad brought joy to many men and prosperity to more lands than one. For\nwith wisdom and love he guided his days, and with sorrow and tears he\nwiped out the stain of his sin, so that, in spite of all he suffered, men\nlove to tell of the glory and wisdom of \u0152dipus, and of how he solved the\nriddle of the Sphinx.\n\n\n\n\nTHE GIFT OF ATHENE[2]\n\nBy Sir George W. Cox\n\n\nNear the banks of the stream Kephisos, Erechtheus had built a city in a\nrocky and thin-soiled land. He was the father of a free and brave people;\nand though his city was proud and humble, yet Zeus by his wisdom foresaw\nthat one day it would become the noblest of all cities throughout the\nwide earth, and there was a quarrel between Poseidon the lord of the sea\nand Athene the child of Zeus, to see by whose name the city of Erechtheus\nshould be called. So Zeus appointed a day in the which he would judge\nbetween them in presence of the great gods who dwell on high Olympus.\n\nWhen the day was come, the gods sat each on his golden throne on the\nbanks of the stream Kephisos. High above all was the throne of Zeus, the\ngreat father of gods and men, and by his side sat Here the queen. This\nday even the sons of men might gaze upon them, for Zeus had laid aside\nhis lightnings, and all the gods had come down in peace to listen to his\njudgment between Poseidon and Athene. There sat Ph\u0153bus Apollo with his\ngolden harp in his hand. His face glistened for the brightness of his\nbeauty; but there was no anger in his gleaming eyes, and idle by his side\nlay the unerring spear with which he smites all who deal falsely and\nspeak lies. There beside him sat Artemis, his sister, whose days were\nspent in chasing the beasts of the earth and in sporting with the nymphs\non the reedy banks of Eurotas. There by the side of Zeus sat Hermes ever\nbright and youthful, the spokesman of the gods, with staff in hand to do\nthe will of the great father. There sat Hephaistos the lord of fire, and\nHestia who guards the hearth. There, too, was Ares, who delights in war;\nand Dionysos, who loves the banquet and the wine-cup, and Aphrodite, who\nrose from the sea-foam to fill the earth with laughter and woe.\n\nBefore them all stood the great rivals, awaiting the judgment of Zeus.\nHigh in her left hand, Athene held the invincible spear; and on her\nshield, hidden from mortal sight, was the face on which no man may gaze\nand live. Close beside her, proud in the greatness of his power, Poseidon\nwaited the issue of the contest. In his right hand gleamed the trident\nwith which he shakes the earth and cleaves the waters of the sea.\n\nThen from his golden seat rose the spokesman Hermes, and his clear voice\nsounded over all the great council. \u201cListen,\u201d he said, \u201cto the will of\nZeus, who judges now between Poseidon and Athene. The city of Erechtheus\nshall bear the name of that god who shall bring forth out of the earth\nthe best gift for the sons of men. If Poseidon do this, the city shall\nbe called Poseidonia; but if Athene brings the higher gift, it shall be\ncalled Athens.\u201d\n\nThen King Poseidon rose up in the greatness of his majesty, and with his\ntrident he smote the earth where he stood. Straightway the hill was\nshaken to its depths, and the earth split asunder, and forth from the\nchasm leaped a horse, such as never shall be seen again for strength\nand beauty. His body shone white all over as the driven snow; his mane\nstreamed proudly in the wind as he stamped on the ground and scoured in\nvery wantonness over hill and valley. \u201cBehold my gift,\u201d said Poseidon,\n\u201cand call the city after my name. Who shall give aught better than the\nhorse to the sons of man?\u201d\n\nBut Athene looked steadfastly at the gods with her keen gray eye; and she\nstooped slowly down to the ground, and planted in it a little seed which\nshe held in her right hand. She spake no word, but still gazed calmly\non that great council. Presently they saw springing from the earth a\nlittle germ, which grew up and threw out its boughs and leaves. Higher\nand higher it rose, with all its thick green foliage, and put forth fruit\non its clustering branches. \u201cMy gift is better, O Zeus,\u201d she said, \u201cthan\nthat of King Poseidon. The horse which he has given shall bring war and\nstrife and anguish to the children of men; my olive tree is the sign of\npeace and plenty, of health and strength, and the pledge of happiness\nand freedom. Shall not, then, the city of Erechtheus be called after my\nname?\u201d Then with one accord rose the voices of the gods in the air, as\nthey cried out, \u201cThe gift of Athene is the best which may be given to the\nsons of men; it is the token that the city of Erechtheus shall be greater\nin peace than in war, and nobler in its freedom than its power. Let the\ncity be called Athens.\u201d\n\nThen Zeus, the mighty son of Kronos, bowed his head in sign of judgment\nthat the city should be called by the name of Athene. From his head the\nimmortal locks streamed down, and the earth trembled beneath his feet as\nhe rose from his golden throne to return to the halls of Olympus. But\nstill Athene stood gazing over the land which was now her own; and she\nstretched out her spear toward the city of Erechtheus, and said: \u201cI have\nwon the victory and here shall be my home. Here shall my children grow up\nin happiness and freedom; and hither shall the sons of men come to learn\nof law and order. Here shall they see what great things may be done by\nmortal hands when aided by the gods who dwell on Olympus; and when the\ntorch of freedom has gone out at Athens, its light shall be handed on to\nother lands, and men shall learn that my gift is still the best, and they\nshall say that reverence for law and the freedom of thought and deed has\ncome to them from the city of Erechtheus, which bears the name of Athene.\u201d\n\n [2] In this Greek tale, the Greek names are preserved. In the\n Latin mythology Zeus is Jupiter, Poseidon is Neptune, Athene\n is Minerva, Artemis is Diana, Hermes is Mercury, Hephaistos is\n Vulcan, Dionysos is Bacchus, Hestia is Vesta, Ares is Mars, and\n Aphrodite is Venus.\n\n\n\n\nDAPHNE, CHILD OF THE MORNING\n\nBy Sir George W. Cox\n\n\nIn the vale of Tempe, where the stream of Peneios flows beneath the\nheights of Olympus towards the sea, the beautiful Daphne passed the days\nof her happy childhood. She climbed the crags to greet the first rays of\nthe rising sun, and when he had driven his fiery horses over the sky, she\nwatched his chariot sink behind the western mountains. Over hill and\ndale she roamed, free and light as the breeze of spring. Other maidens\nround her spoke each of her love, but Daphne cared not to listen to the\nvoice of man, though many a one sought her to be his wife.\n\nOne day, as she stood on the slopes of Ossa in the glow of early morning,\nshe saw before her a glorious form. The light of the new-risen sun fell\non his face with a golden splendor, and she knew that it was Ph\u0153bus\nApollo. Hastily he ran towards her, and said, \u201cI have found thee, Child\nof the Morning. Others thou hast cast aside, but from me thou canst not\nescape. I have sought thee long, and now will I make thee mine.\u201d But\nthe heart of Daphne was bold and strong; and her cheek flushed and her\neye sparkled with anger, as she said, \u201cI know neither love nor bondage.\nI live free among the streams and hills; and to none will I yield my\nfreedom.\u201d Then the face of Apollo grew dark with anger, and he drew near\nto seize the maiden; but swift as the wind she fled away. Over hill and\ndale, over crag and river, the feet of Daphne fell lightly as falling\nleaves in autumn; but nearer yet came Ph\u0153bus Apollo, till at last the\nstrength of the maiden began to fail. Then she stretched out her hands,\nand cried for help to the goddess Ceres; but she came not to her aid. Her\nhead was dizzy, and her limbs trembled in utter feebleness as she drew\nnear to the broad river which gladdens the plains of Thessaly. She almost\nfelt the breath of Ph\u0153bus, and her robe was almost in his grasp. With a\nwild cry, she said, \u201cFather Peneios, receive thy child,\u201d and she rushed\ninto the stream, whose waters closed gently over her.\n\nShe was gone; and Apollo mourned for his madness in chasing thus the free\nmaiden. And he said, \u201cI have punished myself by my folly; the light of\nthe morning is taken out of the day. I must go on alone till my journey\nshall draw towards its end.\u201d Then he spake the word, and a laurel came up\non the bank where Daphne had plunged into the stream; and the green bush\nwith its thick clustering leaves keeps her name forever.\n\n\n\n\nTHE VENGEANCE OF APOLLO\n\nBy Sir George W. Cox\n\n\nIn the cool evening time King Darius walked in his royal garden, and the\nnoblest of the Persians were around him. Then came there a messenger from\nthe western land in haste and said, \u201cO king, the men of Athens with the\nsons of Javan have taken the city of Sardes, and the temple of the great\ngoddess Kybele has been burnt.\u201d And King Darius answered quickly and\nsaid, \u201cWhat sayest thou, O messenger, that men of whom I have never heard\nthe name, have come with my slaves against the land of the great king?\u201d\nThen he bade them bring a bow and arrows; and while some one went for\nthem, the Persians stood round him in silence, for they feared to speak\nwhile the king was angry. He took the bow, fitted an arrow to it and shot\nit up into the sky, and prayed, \u201cO Jupiter, that dwellest in the high\nheavens, suffer me to be avenged upon the men of Athens. The sons of\nJavan are my slaves, and sorely shall they be smitten for the deeds which\nthey have done.\u201d Then he gave command, and each day, when the banquet\nwas spread in the gilded hall and the king sat down to meat, there stood\nforth one who said with a loud voice, \u201cO king, forget not the men of\nAthens.\u201d\n\nBut Jupiter hearkened not to the prayer of the great king, for the ships\nwere made ready, and his chieftains and warriors hastened away to the\nAthenian land and fought in Marathon. They fared not well in the battle,\nfor the men of Athens strove mightily for their country. So in great\nfear the Persians fled to the seashore, while the men of Athens slew\nthem on the land and in the water as they struggled to reach the ships.\nAnd when the fight was over, they spoiled the Persians who lay dead\non the seashore and took rich plunder, for scattered about they found\nembroidered turbans and bright swords and daggers, and golden bits and\nbridles, and silken robes and jewels.\n\nThus sped the hosts of King Darius; and the messenger came again in\nhaste, as he sat on his golden throne in Susa, while the nobles of Persia\ndid obeisance before him. Then the king said, \u201cSpeak, O man, hast thou\nbrought good tidings that my slaves have chastised the people of the\nstrange city?\u201d And the messenger answered, saying, \u201cO King, the men of\nAthens have slain thy mighty men with the sword, and burned thy ships;\nand few come back of all the great army which thou didst send against\nthem.\u201d\n\nGreat and fierce was the wrath of King Darius when he heard the tidings,\nand he hastened to make ready ships and men and horses, that he might\ngo forth himself against the men of Athens. Then in every city of the\nPersian land was heard the noise as of men who have a great work to\ndo; and the armorers wrought spears and swords and shields, and in the\nharbors they built countless ships to sail over the dark sea. But Jupiter\nhearkened not yet to the prayer of the king; so Darius died, and Xerxes\nhis son sat upon his throne, and the chief men of the Persians were\ngathered round him. Then the king spake and said, \u201cBe ready, O Persians,\nevery one of you, for I will go forth with all my great power, and make\nslaves of the men of Athens; and so may the gods do to me, and more also,\nif I burn not the temples of their gods with fire, and bring not hither\nthe golden treasures which lie in the house of Ph\u0153bus Apollo at Delphi.\u201d\n\nThen, with all his great hosts, King Xerxes set forth from Susa, and his\ngovernors and warriors and slaves followed him, with a great multitude of\nevery nation and people; and they crossed over from the land of Asia by a\nbridge which was built over the sea of Helle. Thus they journeyed on in\npomp and glory, and King Xerxes thought that they had done great things\nwhen his host slew Leonidas and three hundred men of Sparta who guarded\nthe passes of Thermopyl\u00e6. So his heart was filled with pride, and he\nchose out the bravest of his warriors, and charged the men of Thessaly to\nlead them to Delphi and the temple of Ph\u0153bus Apollo.\n\nThere was great fear and terror in Delphi. A messenger came and said,\n\u201cThe hosts of King Xerxes are coming to slay the men of this land and\ntake away the treasures which lie in the house of King Apollo.\u201d So the\nDelphians went in great sorrow to the temple, and bowed their heads to\nthe earth and prayed, saying, \u201cChild of the light, who dwellest here in\nthy holy temple, thieves and robbers are coming against us, and they are\npurposed to take away thy sacred treasures; tell us, then, what we shall\ndo, for at thy bidding we are ready to bury them deep in the earth till\nthe storm of war be overpast.\u201d Then came there a voice from the inmost\nshrine, but it was not the voice of the priestess, for Ph\u0153bus Apollo\nhimself came down to speak his will, and said, \u201cMove them not, men of\nDelphi. I will guard my holy place, and none shall lay hand on my sacred\nthings.\u201d\n\nSo they went away in gladness of heart, and made ready for the coming\nof the Persians. All the men of Delphi left the city, saving only sixty\nmen and the prophet Aceratos, and these sat down before the steps of the\ntemple. In silence they waited till the Persians should come, and they\nmarvelled at the great stillness on the earth and in the heaven. There\nwas not a cloud in the sky, and the two peaks of Parnassus glistened in\nthe blazing sunshine. Not a breath lifted the green leaves of the sacred\nlaurels, not a bird sang in the breathless air. Presently, as he turned\nround to look, the prophet saw the sacred weapons of Ph\u0153bus, which no\nmortal man might touch, lying on the temple steps; and he said to the\nsixty men who tarried with him, \u201cLo, now will Ph\u0153bus fight for his holy\ntemple, for his own hand hath made ready the weapons for the battle.\u201d\n\nSoon in the deep valley and along the bank of the Castalian stream were\nseen the hosts of the Persians, as they came on with their long spears\nflashing in the bright sunshine. Far away the men of Delphi saw the blaze\nof their burnished armor, and heard the tramp of their war-horses. Onward\nthey came, and they said one to another, \u201cThe gods have fought for us,\nand the prize is won already. See, yonder is the home of Ph\u0153bus, and none\nremain of the men of Delphi to do battle for his holy temple.\u201d\n\nStill the sun shone without a cloud in the sky, and no breeze broke the\nstillness of the laurel groves. Still glistened the sacred arms as they\nlay on the steps of the temple, and the opened doors showed the golden\ntreasures which were stored up within. There lay the throne of Midas, and\nthe golden lion of Cr\u0153sus. There lay the mighty mixing bowl, all of pure\ngold, which at the bidding of Cr\u0153sus was wrought by the Samian Theodoros.\nThere lay all the rich gifts which the men of Hellas had offered up to\nwin the favor of the lord Apollo.\n\nThen the leaders of the Persians stretched forth their hands, as though\nall these things were given up to them by the god who had forsaken\nhis people; but even as they came near his holy ground, the lightning\nflashed forth, and the crash of the thunder was heard in the blue heaven,\nand the dark cloud fell on the peaks of Parnassus. Like the roar of a\nraging torrent, the mighty wind burst forth. Down from the steps of\nthe Delphian hill thundered the huge rocks, and trees uptorn from their\nroots were hurled on the hosts of the barbarians. Louder and fiercer grew\nthe din. Cries and shoutings were heard from the Alean chapel, for the\nvirgin Minerva fought against the men of Xerxes. Smitten by the fiery\nlightnings, they fell on the quaking earth. Suddenly there was heard a\nsound more fierce and terrible, and two cliffs were hurled down from the\nmountain-top. Underneath this huge mass the mightiest of the Persians\nlay still in the sleep of death; and all who yet lived fled with quaking\nhearts and trembling steps from the great wrath of the lord Apollo.\n\nSo fought the god for his holy temple. When from their hiding places the\nmen of Delphi saw that the Persians fled they poured forth from the caves\nand thickets to slay them. They smote them as sheep are slain before\nthe altar of sacrifice, for even the bravest of their warriors lifted\nnot their arms against them. Long time they followed after them in hot\nhaste; and among them were seen two giant forms, clothed in bright armor,\nsmiting down the hosts of the enemy. Then they knew that Phylacos and\nAutono\u00f6s, the heroes of the place, had come forth to aid them, and they\nsmote the Persians more fiercely till the going down of the sun.\n\nSo the fight was ended; and the stars came forth in the cloudless sky,\nand the laurel groves were stirred by the soft evening breeze. With songs\nof high thanksgiving the men of Delphi drew near to the temple, and saw\nthat Ph\u0153bus had placed again within his shrine the sacred arms which no\nmortal man may handle. Then was there rich spoil gathered, and the holy\nplace of Apollo shone with gifts of gold and silver, which the men of\nDelphi offered in gladness of heart for all the great things which he had\ndone for them. And in every house of the Delphians were seen robes and\nturbans rich with gold and silver and embroidery. On their walls hung\nspears and shields and swords and daggers which the Persians bore when\nthey came to Delphi.\n\nIn after days they told their children the wondrous tale how Ph\u0153bus\nApollo smote down the hosts of Xerxes; and they showed them the spoils\nwhich they took by the aid of the bright heroes, and the two rocks, lying\non the holy ground before his shrine, which Ph\u0153bus tore from the peaks of\nParnassus in the day of his great vengeance.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF ARION\n\nBy Sir George W. Cox\n\n\nA long time ago, in the great city of Corinth, there lived a man whose\nname was Arion, and he made beautiful music on a golden harp, which all\nthe people flocked to listen to. Men and women, boys and girls, all came\nto hear Arion play and sing; and when his songs were ended they gave him\nmoney, and Arion became a rich man. When he had lived for a long time in\nthe house of Periandros, who was called the tyrant of Corinth, he thought\nthat he would like to see some new places which he had never seen before.\nSo he went into a ship and asked the sailors to take him to Sicily and\nItaly. They sailed over the blue sea a long way for many days and weeks,\nand came to many towns, where Arion played and sang and got more money,\ntill at last he came to Taras. There he stayed a long time, because it\nwas a rich and beautiful city, and all the people who came to hear him\ngave him plenty of money.\n\nBy and by Arion thought that he had enough and he began to wish to see\nCorinth and his friend Periandros once more. He went down to the beach\nand said that he wanted a ship to take him back to Corinth, and that he\nwould only go with Corinthians, because he thought the men of Corinth\nbetter than the men of any other place. Just then there was drawn up\non the beach a ship which had come from Corinth, and the sailors told\nhim that they were Corinthians, and would take him home again. So Arion\npromised to go with them, and he sent down his harp and all his boxes\nfull of fine clothes and gold and silver, to be put on board the ship.\nWhen the sailors saw the boxes, and felt how heavy they were, they said\nto each other, \u201cWhat a rich man he must be! would it not be pleasant to\nhave only a little of all this money which has been given to Arion for\nplaying on a harp?\u201d\n\nThe next day Arion came down to the shore and went into the ship. It was\na beautiful day; there was scarcely a cloud in the sky, and there was\na fresh breeze just strong enough to fill the sails and move the ship\ngently through the water. The waves danced and shone like gold in the\nbright sunshine, while the ship tossed up the white foam as she sailed\nmerrily on towards Corinth. So they went on many days, for Arion sat at\nthe head of the ship to see how it cut through the water, and as they\npassed one place after another, he thought that they would soon reach\nCorinth. But the sailors in the ship were wicked men. They had seen the\nlarge boxes full of money which Arion had brought with him into the ship,\nand now they made up their mind to kill him and take his gold and silver.\nSo one day while he was sitting at the bow of the ship, and looking down\non the dark blue sea, three or four of the sailors came up to him and\nsaid that they were going to kill him. Now Arion knew that they said this\nbecause they wanted his money; so he promised to give them all that he\nhad if they would spare his life. But they would not. Then he asked them\nto let him play once more on his harp, and sing one of the songs which\nhe loved the best, and he said that when it was finished he would leap\ninto the sea. When they had given him leave to do this, Arion put on a\nbeautiful dress, took his harp in his hand, and stood up to sing. And as\nhe sang, the sailors began to feel sorry that they were going to kill\nhim, because they would have no more of his sweet music when he was dead.\nBut when they thought of all the gold and silver which Arion was taking\nto Corinth, they made up their minds that they would not let him live;\nand Arion took one last look at the bright and sunny sky, and then leaped\ninto the sea, and the sailors saw him no more.\n\nThe ship sailed on merrily over the dark water, just as though it were\nnot carrying so many wicked men to Corinth. But Arion was not drowned. A\ngreat fish called a dolphin was swimming by the ship when Arion leaped\nover; and it caught him on its back and swam away with him towards\nCorinth much faster than the ship could sail. On and on the great fish\nswam, cutting through the foam of the sea which was tossed up over Arion;\nand by and by he saw at a distance the high cliffs and peaks which he\nknew were the cliffs and peaks above Corinth. So presently the fish came\nclose to the shore and left Arion on the beach, and swam away again into\nthe deep sea.\n\nArion was cold and tired with being so long in the water, and he could\nhardly crawl up into the city as far as the house where Periandros the\ntyrant lived. At last he reached the house, and was taken into the great\nhall where Periandros was sitting. And when he saw Arion, Periandros rose\nup, and came to meet him, and said: \u201cWhy, Arion, what is all this? Your\nclothes are dripping with water; I thought you were coming to Corinth\nfrom Sicily in a ship, but you look more as if you had been in the sea\nthan in a ship: did you swim here through the water?\u201d Then Arion told him\nall the story; how he had left Taras in a ship with Corinthian men whom\nhe had hired to bring him home, how they had tried to kill him that they\nmight take his money, and how the dolphin had brought him to the shore\nwhen they made him leap from the ship into the sea. But Periandros did\nnot believe the story, and said to Arion, \u201cYou cannot make me think that\nthis strange tale is true: who ever swam on a dolphin\u2019s back before?\u201d So\nhe told his servants to give Arion all that he wanted, but not to let\nhim go until the ship in which he had left Taras came to Corinth.\n\nTwo days afterwards, Arion was standing by the side of Periandros, and\nlooking out over the sea. Presently he saw the white sails of a ship\nwhich was sailing into the harbor with a gentle breeze from the west. As\nit came nearer and nearer, Arion thought that it looked very like his\nown ship, until at last he was able to see from the colors on its prow\nthat it was the very ship in which he had been sailing. Then he said to\nPeriandros, \u201cSee, they are come at last, and now go and send for these\nsailors, and see whether I have not told you the truth.\u201d So Periandros\nsent down fifty soldiers with swords and spears and shields, to bring up\nall the sailors from the ship.\n\nThe ship was sailing in merrily towards the shore, and the soft west wind\nfilled out its white sails as it cut through the water. As they looked\non the beautiful land to which they were coming, they thought of all the\nthings which they should be able to buy with Arion\u2019s gold and silver;\nand how they would do nothing but eat and drink and be merry, as soon\nas they got out of the ship. So when they came to the beach, they let\ndown the sails, lowered the masts, and threw out ropes from the stern to\nfasten the ship to the shore. They never thought that the fifty soldiers\nwhose spears and shields were shining gaily in the sunshine had been sent\non purpose to take them; and they could not make out why it was that,\nas soon as they came out from the ship upon the dry land, the soldiers\nsaid that they must all go as quickly as they could to the house of\nPeriandros. Ten of the soldiers stayed behind to guard the ship, while\nthe rest led the sailors to the palace. When they were brought before\nhim, Periandros spoke to them kindly, and asked them from what place\nthey had come; and the sailors said that they had come from Italy, from\nthe great city of Taras. Then Periandros said, \u201cIf you have come from\nItaly, perhaps you can tell me something about my friend Arion. A long\ntime ago he left Corinth, and said that he was going to Sicily and Italy;\nand I cannot think why he should be away so long, for if the people have\ngiven him as much money for his music as they did here, he must now be a\nvery rich man.\u201d Then the sailors said, \u201cYes, we can tell you all about\nArion. We left him quite safe at Taras, where every one wanted to hear\nhim sing; but he said that he should not come to Corinth, until they\nhad given him more gold and silver and made him a richer man.\u201d Just as\nthey were telling this lie, the door of the room was opened, and Arion\nhimself walked in; and Periandros turned round to the sailors, and said,\n\u201cSee, here is the man whom you left quite safe and well at Taras. How\ndare you tell me so great a lie? Now I know that Arion has told me the\ntruth, and that you wished to kill him, and made him leap into the sea;\nbut the dolphin caught him as he fell, and brought him here on its back.\nAnd now listen to me. Of all Arion\u2019s gold and silver you shall have none;\neverything that was his you shall give back to him; and I shall take away\nyour ship, and everything in it which belongs to you, because you wished\nto rob and kill Arion.\u201d Then the soldiers came, and turned these wicked\nsailors into the street, and drove them on, calling to the people to come\nand see the men who had sought to murder Arion. And all came out of their\nhouses, and hooted at the sailors as they passed by, until they were\nready to sink down with fear and shame.\n\nSo Periandros took their ship, and gave back to Arion all his gold and\nsilver, and what he loved better than his riches\u2014his golden harp. And\nevery one came to hear the wonderful tale of Arion and the dolphin; and\nArion made a large statue out of stone to look like a man on a dolphin\u2019s\nback, and placed it on Cape Tainaron, that the people might never forget\nhow the dolphin saved Arion when he leaped into the sea.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BATTLE OF THE FROGS AND THE MICE\n\nBy Sir George W. Cox\n\n\nA thirsty mouse, who had just escaped from a weasel, was drinking from a\npool of water, when a croaking frog saw him, and said, \u201cStranger, when\nhast thou come to our shore, and who is thy father? Tell me the truth,\nand deceive me not, for if thou deservest it, I will lead thee to my\nhouse and give thee rich and beautiful gifts. My name is Puffcheek, and I\nrule over the frogs who dwell in this lake, and I see that thou, too, art\nan excellent prince and a brave warrior. So make haste, and tell me to\nwhat race thou dost belong.\u201d\n\nThe mouse answered him and said, \u201cFriend, why dost thou ask me of my\nrace? It is known to all the gods, and to men, and to all the birds of\nheaven. My name is Crumbfilcher and I am the son of the great-hearted\nBreadgnawer, and my mother is Lickmill, the daughter of King Hamnibbler.\nI was born in a hovel, and fed on figs and nuts and on all manner of good\nthings. But how can we be friends? We are not at all like each other. You\nfrogs live in the water; we feed on whatever is eaten by man. No dainty\nescapes my eye, whether it be bread, or cake, or ham, or new-made cheese,\nor rich dishes prepared for feasts. As to war, I have never dreaded\nits noise, but, going straight into it, have taken my place among the\nforemost warriors. Nor do I fear men, although they have large bodies;\nfor at night I can bite a finger or nibble a heel without waking the\nsleeper from his pleasant slumber. But there are two things which I dread\ngreatly\u2014a mouse-trap and a hawk; but worse than these are the weasels,\nfor they can catch us in our holes. What then am I to do? for I cannot\neat the cabbages, radishes, and pumpkins, which furnish food to the race\nof frogs.\u201d\n\nThen Puffcheek answered with a smile, \u201cMy friend, thou art dainty enough,\nbut we have fine things to show on the dry land and in the marsh, for the\nson of Cronos has given us the power to dwell on land or in the water as\nit may please us. If thou wouldst see these things, it is soon done. Get\non my back and hold on well, so that thou mayest reach my house with a\ncheerful heart.\u201d So he turned his bade to the mouse, who sprang lightly\non it and put his arms round his soft neck. Much pleased he was at first\nto swim on the back of Puffcheek, while the haven was near; but when he\ngot out into midwater, he began to weep and to curse his useless sorrow.\nHe tore his hair, and drew his feet tightly round the frog\u2019s stomach. His\nheart beat wildly, and he wished himself well on shore, as he uttered a\npitiful cry and spread out his tail on the water, moving it about like an\noar. Then in the bitterness of his grief he said, \u201cSurely it was not thus\nthe bull carried the beautiful Europa on his back over the sea to Crete;\nsurely\u2014\u201d But before he could say more, a snake, of which frogs and mice\nalike are afraid, lifted up his head straight above the water. Down dived\nPuffcheek, when he saw the snake, never thinking that he had left the\nmouse to die. The frog was safe at the bottom of the marsh, but the mouse\nfell on his back and screamed terribly. Many times he sank and many times\nhe came up again, kicking hard; but there was no hope. The hair on his\nskin was soaked and weighed him down, and with his last breath he cried,\n\u201cPuffcheek, thou shalt not escape for thy treachery. On the land I could\nhave beaten thee in boxing, wrestling, or running; but thou hast beguiled\nme into the water, where I can do nothing. The eye of justice sees thee,\nand thou shalt pay a fearful penalty to the great army of the mice.\u201d\n\nSo the Crumbfilcher died; but Lickplatter saw him as he sat on the soft\nbank, and uttering a sharp cry, went to tell the mice. Then was there\ngreat wrath among them, and messengers were sent to bid all come in\nthe morning to the house of Breadgnawer, the father of the luckless\nCrumbfilcher, whose body could not even be buried, because it was\nfloating in the middle of the pond. They came at dawn, and Breadgnawer,\nrising in grief and rage, said, \u201cFriends, I may be the only one whom the\nfrogs have sorely injured; but we all live a poor life, and I am in sad\nplight, for I have lost three sons. The first was slain by a hateful\nweasel who caught him outside his hole. The next one cruel men brought to\nhis death by a newfangled device of wood, which they call a trap; and now\nmy darling Crumbfilcher has been drowned. Come and let us arm ourselves\nfor war and go forth to battle.\u201d\n\nSo they each put on his armor. For greaves around their legs they used\nthe beans on which they fed at night, and their breastplates they made\ncunningly out of the skin of a dead weasel. For spears they carried\nskewers, and the shell of a nut for a helmet. So they stood in battle\narray, and the frogs, when they came to hear of it, rose from the water\nand summoned a council in a corner of the pond. As they wondered what\nmight be the cause of these things, there came a messenger from the mice,\nwho declared war against them and said, \u201cYe frogs, the mice bid you arm\nyourselves and come forth to battle, for they have seen Crumbfilcher,\nwhom your king Puffcheek drowned, floating dead on the water.\u201d Then the\nvaliant frogs feared exceedingly, and blamed the deed of Puffcheek; but\nthe king said, \u201cFriends, I did not kill the mouse or see him die; of\ncourse he was drowned while he amused himself in the pond by trying to\nswim like a frog, and the wretches now bring a charge against me who am\nwholly guiltless. But come, let us take counsel how we may destroy these\nmice and this, I think, is the best plan. Let us arm ourselves and take\nour stand where the bank is steepest, and when they come charging against\nus, let us seize their helmets and drag them down into the pond. Thus we\nshall drown them all and set up a trophy for our victory.\u201d So they each\nput on his armor. They covered their legs with mallow leaves, and carried\nradish leaves for shields, rushes for spears, snail-shells for helmets.\nThus they stood in array on the high bank, brandishing their spears and\nshouting for battle.\n\nBut Jupiter summoned the gods to the starry heaven, and, pointing to the\nhosts of the frogs and mice, mighty as the armies of the Centaurs or the\ngiants, he asked who would aid each side as it might be hard pressed in\nthe strife; and he said to Minerva, \u201cDaughter, thou wilt go surely to\nthe aid of the mice, for they are always running about thy shrine, and\ndelight in the fat and the morsels which they pick from the sacrifices.\u201d\n\nBut Minerva said to the son of Cronos, \u201cFather, I go not to help the\nmice, for they have done me grievous mischief, spoiling the garlands and\nthe lamps for the sake of the oil. Nay, I have greater cause for anger,\nfor they have eaten the robe which I wove from fine thread, and made\nholes in it; and the man who mended it charges a high price, and, worse\nstill, I borrowed the stuff of which I wove it, and now I cannot pay it\nback. Yet neither will I aid the frogs, for they are not in their right\nsenses. A little while ago, I came back tired from war and wanting\nsleep; but they never let me close my eyes with their clatter, and I lay\nsleepless with a headache till the cock crew in the morning. But, O ye\ngods, let us aid neither side, lest we be wounded with their swords or\nspears, for they are sharp and strong, even against gods; let us take our\nsport by watching the strife in safety.\u201d\n\nThe gods did as Minerva bade them, and went all to one place. The gnats,\nwith their great trumpets, gave the signal for battle, and Jupiter\nthundered out of the sky because of the woes that were coming. Mighty\nwere the deeds that were done on both sides, and the earth and the\npond were reddened with the blood of the slain. As the fight went on,\nCrumbstealer slew Garliceater before he came to land; and Mudwalker,\nseeing it, threw at him a clod of earth, and, hitting him on the\nforehead, almost blinded him. In his fury, Crumbstealer seized a great\nstone, and crushed the leg of the frog, so that he fell on his back in\nthe dust. Then Breadgnawer wounded Puffcheek in the foot, and made him\nlimp into the water.\n\nBut among the mice was a young hero, with whom none could be matched\nfor boldness and strength, and his name was Bitstealer. On the bank of\nthe pond he stood alone, and vowed a vow to destroy the whole race of\nfrogs. And the vow would have been accomplished, for his might was great\nindeed, had not the son of Cronos pitied the frogs in their misery, and\ncharged Minerva and Mars to drive Bitstealer from the battle. But Mars\nmade answer and said, \u201cO Jupiter, neither Minerva nor Mars alone can save\nthe frogs from death. Let us all go and help them; and do thou, son of\nCronos, wield thy mighty weapon with which thou didst slay the Titans,\nand the wild race of giants, for thus only can the bravest of them be\nslain.\u201d So spake Mars; and Jupiter hurled his scathing thunderbolts,\nand the lightnings flashed from the sky, and Olympus shook with the\nearthquake. The frogs and mice heard and trembled; but the mice ceased\nnot yet from the battle, and strove only the more to slay their enemies,\nuntil Jupiter, in his pity, sent a new army to aid the frogs.\n\nSuddenly they came on the mice, with mailed backs and crooked claws, with\nlimping gait, and mouths like shears. Their backs were hard and horny,\ntheir arms were long and lean, and their eyes were in their breasts. They\nhad eight feet and two heads, and no hands. Men call them crabs. With\ntheir mouths they bit the tails and feet and hands of the mice, and broke\ntheir spears, and great terror came on all the mice, so that they turned\nand fled. Thus the battle was ended, and the sun went down.\n\n\n\n\nORPHEUS THE SWEET SINGER\n\nBy Sir George W. Cox\n\n\nIn the pleasant valleys of a country which was called Thessaly, there\nlived a man whose name was Orpheus. Every day he made soft music with\nhis golden harp, and sang beautiful songs such as no one had ever heard\nbefore. And whenever Orpheus sang, then everything came to listen to\nhim, and the trees bowed down their heads to hear; even the clouds sailed\nalong more gently and brightly in the sky when he sang, and the stream\nwhich ran close to his feet made a softer noise, to show how glad his\nmusic made it.\n\nNow Orpheus had a wife who was called Eurydice, whom he loved very\ndearly. All through the winter when the snow was on the hills, and all\nthrough the summer when the sunshine made everything beautiful, Orpheus\nused to sing to her; and Eurydice sat on the grass by his side while the\nbeasts came round to listen, and the trees bowed down their heads to hear\nhim.\n\nBut one day when Eurydice was playing with some children on the banks of\nthe river, she trod upon a snake in the long grass, and the snake bit\nher. And by and by she began to be very sick, and Eurydice knew that she\nmust die. So she told the children to go to Orpheus (for he was far away)\nand say how sorry she was to leave him, and that she loved him always\nvery dearly; and then she put her head down upon the soft grass, and fell\nasleep and died. Sad indeed was Orpheus when the children came to tell\nhim that Eurydice was dead. He felt so wretched that he never played upon\nhis golden harp, and he never opened his lips to sing; and the beasts\nthat used to listen to him wondered why Orpheus sat all alone on the\ngreen bank where Eurydice used to sit with him, and why it was that he\nnever made any more beautiful music. All day long he sat there, and his\ncheeks were often wet with tears. At last he said, \u201cI cannot stay here\nany more; I must go and look for Eurydice. I cannot bear to be without\nher, and perhaps the king of the land where people go after they are dead\nwill let her come back and live with me again.\u201d\n\nSo he took his harp in his hand, and went to look for Eurydice in the\nland where the sun goes down into his golden cup before the night comes\non. He went on and on a very long way, till at last he came to a high\nand dark gateway. It was barred across with iron bars, and was bolted\nand locked so that nobody could open it. It was a wretched and gloomy\nplace, because the sunshine never came there, and it was covered with\nclouds and mist. In front of this great gateway there sat a monstrous\ndog, with three heads, six eyes, and three tongues; and everything was\ndark around, except his eyes, which shone like fire, and which saw every\none that dared to come near. Now when Orpheus came looking for Eurydice,\nthe dog raised his three heads, opened his three mouths, and gnashed his\nteeth at him, and roared terribly; but when Orpheus came nearer, the dog\njumped up on his feet ready to fly at him and tear him to pieces. Then\nOrpheus took down his harp and began to play upon its golden strings. And\nthe dog Cerberus (for that was his name) growled and snarled and showed\nthe great white teeth in his three mouths; but he could not help hearing\nthe sweet music, and he wondered why it was that he no longer wished to\ntear Orpheus in pieces. Soon the music made him quiet and still, and at\nlast it lulled him to sleep. Then Orpheus passed by him and came up to\nthe gate, and found it wide open, for it had come open of its own accord\nwhile he was singing. He was glad when he saw this, for he thought that\nnow he should see Eurydice.\n\nSo he went on and on a long way, until he came to the palace of the\nking; and there were guards placed before the door who tried to keep him\nfrom going in; but Orpheus played upon his harp, and they could not help\nletting him pass.\n\nSo he went into the great hall, where he saw the king and queen sitting\non a throne; and as he came near, the king called out to him with a loud\nand terrible voice, \u201cWho are you, and how dare you to come here? Do you\nnot know that no one is allowed to come here till after he is dead? I\nwill have you chained and placed in a dungeon, from which you will never\nbe able to get out.\u201d Orpheus said nothing; but took his golden harp in\nhis hand and began to sing more sweetly and gently than ever. And as\nhe sang, the face of the king began to look almost glad, and his anger\npassed away. Then the king said, \u201cYou have made me feel happy with your\nsweet music, although I have never felt happy before; and now tell me why\nyou have come, because you must want something, for, otherwise, no one\nwould come, before he was dead, to this sad and gloomy land of which I am\nthe king.\u201d Then Orpheus said, \u201cO king, give me back my dear Eurydice, and\nlet her go from this gloomy place and live with me on the bright earth\nagain.\u201d So the king said that she could go. And the king said to Orpheus,\n\u201cI have given you what you wanted, because you sang so sweetly; and when\nyou go back to the earth from this place, your wife whom you love shall\ngo up after you: but remember that you must never look back until she has\nreached the earth, for if you do, Eurydice will be brought back here, and\nI shall not be able to give her to you again, even if you should sing\nmore sweetly and gently than ever.\u201d\n\nNow Orpheus was longing to see Eurydice, and he hoped that the king would\nlet him see her at once; but when the king said that he must not try to\nsee her till she had reached the earth, he was quite content, for he\nsaid, \u201cShall I not wait patiently a little while, that Eurydice may come\nand live with me again?\u201d So he promised the king that he would go up to\nthe earth without stopping to look behind and see whether Eurydice was\ncoming after him.\n\nThen Orpheus left the palace of the king, and he passed through the dark\ngateway, and the dog Cerberus did not bark or growl, for he knew that\nOrpheus would not have been allowed to come back, if the king had not\nwished it. So he went on and on a long way; and he became impatient, and\nlonged more and more to see Eurydice. At last he came near to the land of\nliving men, and he saw just a little streak of light, where the sun was\ngoing to rise from the sea; and presently the sky became brighter, and he\nsaw everything before him so clearly that he could not help turning round\nto look at Eurydice. But, ah! she had not yet quite reached the earth,\nand so he lost her again. He saw something pale and white, which looked\nlike his own dear wife; and he just heard a soft and gentle voice, which\nsounded like the voice of Eurydice, and then it all melted away. And\nstill he thought that he saw that pale white face, and heard that soft\nvoice, which said, \u201cO Orpheus, Orpheus, why did you look back? How dearly\nI love you, and how glad I should have been to live with you again; but\nnow I must go back, because you have broken your promise to the king, and\nI must not even kiss you, and say how much I love you.\u201d\n\nOrpheus sat down at the place where Eurydice was taken from him; he could\ngo no further. There he stayed day after day, and his cheeks became\npaler, and his body weaker and weaker, till at last he knew that he must\ndie. And Orpheus was not sorry; for although he loved the bright earth,\nwith all its flowers and grass and sunny streams, he knew that he could\nnot be with Eurydice again until he had left it. So at last he laid his\nhead upon the earth, and fell asleep, and died: and then he and Eurydice\nsaw each other in the land which is far away, where the sun goes down at\nnight into his golden cup, and were never parted again.\n\n\n\n\nNIOBE, A VICTIM OF LATONA\u2019S JEALOUSY\n\nBy Thomas Bulfinch\n\n\nNiobe, the Queen of Thebes, had much to be proud of; but it was not her\nhusband\u2019s fame, nor her own beauty, nor their great descent, nor the\npower of their kingdom that elated her. It was her children; and truly\nthe happiest of mothers would Niobe have been if only she had not\nclaimed to be so.\n\nIt was on occasion of the annual celebration in honor of Latona and her\noffspring, Apollo and Diana\u2014when the people of Thebes were assembled,\ntheir brows crowned with laurel, bearing frankincense in the altars and\npaying their vows\u2014that Niobe appeared among the crowd. Her attire was\nsplendid with gold and gems, and her aspect beautiful as the face of\nan angry woman can be. She stood and surveyed the people with haughty\nlooks. \u201cWhat folly,\u201d said she, \u201cis this!\u2014to prefer beings whom you never\nsaw to those who stand before your eyes! Why should Latona be honored\nwith worship, and none be paid to me? My father was Tantalus, who was\nreceived as a guest at the table of the gods; my mother was a goddess.\nMy husband built and rules this city, Thebes, and Phrygia is my paternal\ninheritance. Wherever I turn my eyes I survey the elements of my power;\nnor is my form and presence unworthy of a goddess. To all this let me\nadd I have seven sons and seven daughters, and look for sons-in-law and\ndaughters-in-law of pretensions worthy of my alliance. Have I not cause\nfor pride? Will you prefer to me this Latona, the Titan\u2019s daughter,\nwith her two children? I have seven times as many. Fortunate indeed am\nI, and fortunate I shall remain! Will any one deny this? My abundance\nis my security. I feel myself too strong for Fortune to subdue. She may\ntake from me much; I shall still have much left. Were I to lose some of\nmy children, I should hardly be left as poor as Latona with her two\nonly. Away with you from these solemnities\u2014put off the laurel from your\nbrows\u2014have done with this worship!\u201d The people obeyed, and left the\nsacred services uncompleted.\n\nThe goddess was indignant. On the Cynthian mountain top where she dwelt\nshe thus addressed her son and daughter: \u201cMy children, I who have been so\nproud of you both, and have been used to hold myself second to none of\nthe goddesses except Juno alone, begin now to doubt whether I am indeed a\ngoddess. I shall be deprived of my worship altogether unless you protect\nme.\u201d\n\nShe was proceeding in this strain, but Apollo interrupted her. \u201cSay no\nmore,\u201d said he; \u201cspeech only delays punishment.\u201d\n\nSo said Diana also. Darting through the air, veiled in clouds, they\nalighted on the towers of the city. Spread out before the gates was a\nbroad plain, where the youth of the city pursued their warlike sports.\nThe sons of Niobe were there with the rest\u2014some mounted on spirited\nhorses richly caparisoned, some driving gay chariots.\n\nIsmenos, the first-born, as he guided his foaming steeds, struck with\nan arrow from above, cried out, \u201cAh, me!\u201d dropped the reins, and fell\nlifeless. Another, hearing the sound of the bow\u2014like a boatman who sees\nthe storm gathering and makes all sail for the port\u2014gave the reins to his\nhorses and attempted to escape. The arrow overtook him as he fled. Two\nyounger boys, just from their tasks, had gone to the playground to have\na game of wrestling. As they stood breast to breast, one arrow pierced\nthem both. They uttered a cry together, cast a parting look around them,\nand together breathed their last. Alphenor, an elder brother, seeing them\nfall, hastened to the spot to render assistance, and fell stricken in the\nact.\n\nOne only was left, Ilioneus. He raised his arms to heaven to try whether\nprayer might not vail. \u201cSpare me, ye gods!\u201d he cried, addressing all; and\nApollo would have spared him, but the arrow had already left the string,\nand it was too late.\n\nThe terror of the people and grief of the attendants soon made Niobe\nacquainted with what had taken place. She could hardly think it possible;\nshe was indignant that the gods had dared, and amazed that they had\nbeen able, to do it. Her husband, Amphion, overwhelmed with the blow,\ndestroyed himself.\n\nAlas! how different was this Niobe from her who had so lately driven away\nthe people from the sacred rites, and held her stately course through the\ncity, the envy of her friends, now the pity even of her foes! She knelt\nover the lifeless bodies, and kissed now one, now another of her dead\nsons. Raising her pallid arms to heaven, \u201cCruel Latona,\u201d said she, \u201cfeed\nfull your rage with my anguish! Satiate your hard heart, while I follow\nto the grave my seven sons. Yet where is your triumph? Bereaved as I am,\nI am still richer than you, my conqueror.\u201d\n\nScarce had she spoken, when the bow sounded and struck terror into all\nhearts except Niobe\u2019s alone. She was brave from excess of grief. The\nsisters stood in garments of mourning over the biers of their dead\nbrothers. One fell, struck by an arrow, and died on the corpse she was\nbewailing. Another, attempting to console her mother, suddenly ceased to\nspeak, and sank lifeless to the earth. A third tried to escape by flight,\na fourth by concealment, another stood trembling, uncertain what course\nto take. Six were now dead, and only one remained, whom the mother held\nclasped in her arms, and covered as it were with her whole body. \u201cSpare\nme one, and that the youngest! O spare me one of so many!\u201d she cried;\nand while she spoke, that one fell dead. Desolate she sat, among sons,\ndaughters, husband, all dead, stunned with grief. The breeze moved not\nher hair, no color was on her cheek, her eyes glared fixed and immovable,\nthere was no sign of life about her. Her very tongue cleaved to the roof\nof her mouth. She was changed to stone. Yet tears continued to flow;\nand borne on a whirlwind to her native mountain, she still remains, a\nmass of rock, from which a trickling stream flows, the tribute of her\nnever-ending grief.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SAD STORY OF PYRAMUS AND THISBE\n\nBy Thomas Bulfinch\n\n\nPyramus was the handsomest youth, and Thisbe the fairest maiden, in\nall Babylon, where Semiramis reigned. Their parents occupied adjoining\nhouses, and acquaintance ripened into love. They would gladly have\nmarried, but their parents forbade. One thing, however, they could not\nforbid\u2014that love should glow with equal ardor in the hearts of both. They\nconversed by signs and glances, and the fire burned more intensely for\nbeing covered up. In the wall that separated the two houses there was\na crack. No one had remarked it before, but the lovers discovered it.\nIt afforded a passage to the voice, and messages used to pass backward\nand forward through the gap. \u201cCruel wall,\u201d they said, \u201cwhy do you keep\nus apart? But we will not be ungrateful. We owe you the privilege of\ntransmitting loving words to willing ears.\u201d Such words they uttered\non different sides of the wall; and when night came and they must say\nfarewell, they pressed their lips upon the wall, she on her side, he on\nhis, as they could come no nearer.\n\nNext morning, when the sun had melted the frost from the grass, they\nmet at the accustomed spot. Then, after lamenting their hard fate, they\nagreed that next night, when all was still, they would slip away from\nwatchful eyes, leave their dwellings and walk out into the fields; and\nto insure a meeting, repair to a well-known edifice standing without the\ncity\u2019s bounds, called the Tomb of Ninus, and that the one who came first\nshould await the other at the foot of a certain tree. It was a white\nmulberry tree, and stood near a cool spring. All was agreed on, and they\nwaited impatiently for the sun to go down beneath the waters and night\nto rise up from them. Then cautiously Thisbe stole forth, unobserved by\nthe family, her head covered with a veil, made her way to the monument\nand sat down under the tree. As she sat alone in the dim light of the\nevening she descried a lioness, her jaws stained with recent slaughter,\napproaching the fountain to slake her thirst. Thisbe fled at the sight,\nand sought refuge in the hollow of a rock. As she fled she dropped her\nveil. The lioness after drinking at the spring turned to retreat to the\nwoods, and seeing the veil on the ground, tossed and rent it with her\nbloody mouth.\n\nPyramus, having been delayed, now approached the place of meeting. He saw\nin the sand the footsteps of the lion, and the color fled from his cheeks\nat the sight. Presently he found the veil all rent and bloody. \u201cO hapless\ngirl,\u201d said he, \u201cI have been the cause of thy death! Thou, more worthy of\nlife than I, hast fallen the first victim. I will follow. I am the guilty\ncause, in tempting thee forth to a place of such peril, and not being\nmyself on the spot to guard thee. Come forth, ye lions, from the rocks,\nand tear this guilty body with your teeth.\u201d He took up the veil, carried\nit with him to the appointed tree, and covered it with kisses and with\ntears. \u201c_My_ blood also shall stain your texture,\u201d said he, and drawing\nhis sword plunged it into his heart. The blood spurted from the wound,\nand tinged the white mulberries of the tree all red; and sinking into the\nearth reached the roots, so that the red color mounted through the trunk\nto the fruit.\n\nBy this time Thisbe, still trembling with fear, yet wishing not to\ndisappoint her lover, stepped cautiously forth, looking anxiously for\nthe youth, eager to tell him the danger she had escaped. When she came\nto the spot and saw the changed color of the mulberries she doubted\nwhether it was the same place. While she hesitated she saw the form\nof one struggling in the agonies of death. She started back, a shudder\nran through her frame as a ripple on the face of the still water when\na sudden breeze sweeps over it. But as soon as she recognized her\nlover, she screamed, beat her breast, and embraced the lifeless body.\n\u201cO Pyramus,\u201d she cried, \u201cwhat has done this? Answer me, Pyramus; it is\nThisbe that speaks. Hear me, dearest, and lift that drooping head!\u201d At\nthe name of Thisbe Pyramus opened his eyes, then closed them again. She\nsaw her veil stained with blood and the scabbard empty of its sword.\n\u201cThy own hand has slain thee, and for my sake,\u201d she said. \u201cI too can be\nbrave for once, and my love is as strong as thine. I will follow thee in\ndeath, for I have been the cause; and death which alone could part us\nshall not prevent my joining thee. And ye, unhappy parents of us both,\ndeny us not our united request. As love and death have joined us, let one\ntomb contain us. And thou, tree, retain the marks of slaughter. Let thy\nberries still serve for memorials of our blood.\u201d So saying she plunged\nthe sword into her breast. Her parents ratified her wish, the gods also\nratified it. The two bodies were buried in one sepulchre, and the tree\never after brought forth purple berries, as it does to this day.\n\n\n\n\nTHE TWELVE LABORS OF HERCULES\n\nBy Thomas Bulfinch\n\n\nHercules was the son of Jupiter and Alcmena. As Juno was always hostile\nto the offspring of her husband by mortal mothers, she declared war\nagainst Hercules from his birth. She sent two serpents to destroy him as\nhe lay in his cradle, but the brave infant strangled them with his own\nhands.\n\nHe was, however, by the arts of Juno rendered subject to Eurystheus and\ncompelled to perform all his commands. Eurystheus gave him a succession\nof desperate tasks, which are called the \u201cTwelve Labors of Hercules,\u201d The\nfirst was the fight with the Nemean lion.\n\nThe valley of Nemea was infested by a terrible lion. Eurystheus ordered\nHercules to bring him the skin of this monster. After using in vain his\nclub and arrows against the lion, Hercules strangled the animal with\nhis hands. He returned carrying the dead lion on his shoulders; but\nEurystheus was so frightened at the sight of it and at this proof of\nthe prodigious strength of the hero, that he ordered him to deliver the\naccount of his exploits in future outside the town.\n\nHis next labor was the slaughter of the Hydra. This monster ravaged the\ncountry of Argos, and dwelt in a swamp near the well of Amymone. This\nwell had been discovered by Amymone when the country was suffering from\ndrought, and the story was that Neptune, who loved her, had permitted\nher to touch the rock with his trident, and a spring of three outlets\nburst forth. Here the Hydra took up his position, and Hercules was sent\nto destroy him. The Hydra had nine heads, of which the middle one was\nimmortal.\n\nHercules struck off its heads with his club, but in the place of the\nhead knocked off, two new ones grew forth each time. At length with the\nassistance of his faithful servant Iolaus, he burned away the heads of\nthe Hydra, and buried the ninth or immortal one under a huge rock.\n\nAnother labor was the cleaning of the Augean stables. Augeas, King of\nElis, had a herd of three thousand oxen, whose stalls had not been\ncleansed for thirty years. Hercules brought the rivers Alpheus and Peneus\nthrough them, and cleansed them thoroughly in one day.\n\nHis next labor was of a more delicate kind. Admeta, the daughter of\nEurystheus, longed to obtain the girdle of the Queen of the Amazons, and\nEurystheus ordered Hercules to go and get it. The Amazons were a nation\nof women. They were very warlike and held several flourishing cities.\nIt was their custom to bring up only the female children; the boys were\neither sent away to the neighboring nations or put to death. Hercules was\naccompanied by a number of volunteers, and after various adventures at\nlast reached the country of the Amazons. Hippolyta, the queen, received\nhim kindly, and consented to yield him her girdle, but Juno, taking\nthe form of an Amazon, went and persuaded the rest that the strangers\nwere carrying off their queen. They instantly armed and came in great\nnumbers down to the ship. Hercules, thinking that Hippolyta had acted\ntreacherously, slew her, and taking her girdle made sail homeward.\n\nAnother task enjoined him was to bring to Eurystheus the oxen of Geryon,\na monster with three bodies, who dwelt in the island Erytheia (the red),\nso called because it lay at the west, under the rays of the setting\nsun. This description is thought to apply to Spain, of which Geryon was\nking. After traversing various countries, Hercules reached at length\nthe frontiers of Libya and Europe, where he raised the two mountains of\nCalpe and Abyla, as monuments of his progress, or, according to another\naccount, rent one mountain into two and left half on each side, forming\nthe straits of Gibraltar, the two mountains being called the Pillars of\nHercules. The oxen were guarded by the giant Eurytion and his two-headed\ndog, but Hercules killed the giant and his dog and brought away the oxen\nin safety to Eurystheus.\n\nThe most difficult labor of all was getting the golden apples of the\nHesperides, for Hercules did not know where to find them. These were the\napples which Juno had received at her wedding from the goddess of the\nEarth, and which she had intrusted to the keeping of the daughters of\nHesperus, assisted by a watchful dragon.\n\nA celebrated exploit of Hercules was his victory over Ant\u00e6us. Ant\u00e6us, the\nson of Terra, the Earth, was a mighty giant and wrestler, whose strength\nwas invincible so long as he remained in contact with his mother Earth.\nHe compelled all strangers who came to his country to wrestle with him,\non condition that if conquered (as they all were) they should be put to\ndeath. Hercules encountered him, and finding that it was of no avail to\nthrow him, for he always rose with renewed strength from every fall, he\nlifted him up from the earth and strangled him in the air.\n\nCacus was a huge giant, who inhabited a cave on Mount Aventine, and\nplundered the surrounding country. When Hercules was driving home the\noxen of Geryon, Cacus stole part of the cattle, while the hero slept.\nThat their footprints might not serve to show where they had been driven,\nhe dragged them backward by their tails to his cave; so their tracks all\nseemed to show that they had gone in the opposite direction. Hercules was\ndeceived by this stratagem, and would have failed to find his oxen, if it\nhad not happened that in driving the remainder of the herd past the cave\nwhere the stolen ones were concealed, those within began to low, and were\nthus discovered. Cacus was slain by Hercules.\n\nThe last exploit we shall record was bringing Cerberus from the lower\nworld. Cerberus was the three-headed dog that guarded the entrance to\nHades. Hercules descended into Hades, accompanied by Mercury and Minerva.\nHe obtained permission from Pluto to carry Cerberus to the upper air,\nprovided he could do it without the use of weapons; and in spite of the\nmonster\u2019s struggling, he seized him, held him fast, and carried him to\nEurystheus, and afterward brought him back again. When he was in Hades\nhe obtained the liberty of Theseus, his admirer and imitator, who had\nbeen detained a prisoner there for an unsuccessful attempt to carry off\nProserpine.\n\nHercules in a fit of madness killed his friend Iphitus, and was condemned\nfor this offence to become the slave of Queen Omphale for three years.\nWhile in this service the hero\u2019s nature seemed changed. He lived\neffeminately, wearing at times the dress of a woman, spinning wool with\nthe handmaidens of Omphale, while the queen wore his lion\u2019s skin. When\nthis service was ended he married Dejanira and lived in peace with her\nthree years. On one occasion as he was travelling with his wife, they\ncame to a river, across which the Centaur Nessus carried travellers for\na stated fee. Hercules himself forded the river, but gave Dejanira to\nNessus to be carried across. Nessus attempted to run away with her, but\nHercules heard her cries and shot an arrow into the heart of Nessus. The\ndying Centaur told Dejanira to take a portion of his blood and keep it,\nas it might be used as a charm to preserve the love of her husband.\n\nDejanira did so and before long fancied she had occasion to use it.\nHercules in one of his conquests had taken prisoner a fair maiden, named\nIole, of whom he seemed more fond than Dejanira approved. When Hercules\nwas about to offer sacrifices to the gods in honor of his victory, he\nsent to his wife for a white robe to use on the occasion. Dejanira,\nthinking it a good opportunity to try her love-spell, steeped the garment\nin the blood of Nessus. As soon as the garment became warm on the body\nof Hercules the poison penetrated into all his limbs and caused him the\nmost intense agony. In his frenzy he seized Lichas, who had brought\nhim the fatal robe, and hurled him into the sea. He wrenched off the\ngarment, but it stuck to his flesh, and with it he tore away whole pieces\nof his body. In this state he embarked on board a ship and was conveyed\nhome. Dejanira, on seeing what she had unwittingly done, hung herself.\nHercules, prepared to die, ascended Mount \u0152ta, where he built a funeral\npile of trees, gave his bow and arrows to Philoctetes, and laid himself\ndown on the pile, his head resting on his club, and his lion\u2019s skin\nspread over him. With a countenance as serene as if he were taking his\nplace at a festal board he commanded Philoctetes to apply the torch. The\nflames spread apace and soon invested the whole mass.\n\nThe gods themselves felt troubled at seeing the champion of the earth so\nbrought to his end. But Jupiter with cheerful countenance thus addressed\nthem: \u201cFear not. He who conquered all else is not to be conquered by\nthose flames which you see blazing on Mount \u0152ta. Only his mother\u2019s share\nin him can perish; what he derived from me is immortal. I shall take\nhim, dead to earth, to the heavenly shores, and I require of you all to\nreceive him kindly.\u201d Jupiter enveloped him in a cloud, and took him up in\na four-horse chariot to dwell among the stars.\n\n\n\n\nHERCULES\u2019S SEARCH FOR THE APPLES OF HESPERIDES\n\nBy Nathaniel Hawthorne\n\n\nDid you ever hear of the golden apples that grew in the garden of the\nHesperides? Ah, those were such apples as would bring a great price, by\nthe bushel, if any of them could be found growing in the orchards of\nnowadays! But there is not, I suppose, a graft of that wonderful fruit on\na single tree in the wide world. Not so much as a seed of those apples\nexists any longer.\n\nAnd, even in the old, old half-forgotten times, before the garden of the\nHesperides was overrun with weeds, a great many people doubted whether\nthey could be real trees that bore apples of solid gold upon their\nbranches. All had heard of them, but nobody remembered to have seen any.\nChildren, nevertheless, used to listen, open-mouthed, to stories of the\ngolden apple-tree, and resolved to discover it, when they should be big\nenough. Adventurous young men, who desired to do a braver thing than any\nof their fellows, set out in quest of this fruit. Many of them returned\nno more; none of them brought back the apples. No wonder that they found\nit impossible to gather them! It is said that there was a dragon beneath\nthe tree, with a hundred terrible heads, fifty of which were always on\nthe watch, while the other fifty slept.\n\nIn my opinion it was hardly worth running so much risk for the sake of a\nsolid golden apple. Had the apples been sweet, mellow, and juicy, indeed\nthat would be another matter. There might then have been some sense in\ntrying to get at them, in spite of the hundred-headed dragon.\n\nBut, as I have already told you, it was quite a common thing with young\npersons, when tired of too much peace and rest, to go in search of the\ngarden of the Hesperides. And once the adventure was undertaken by a\nhero who had enjoyed very little peace or rest since he came into the\nworld. At the time of which I am going to speak, he was wandering through\nthe pleasant land of Italy, with a mighty club in his hand, and a bow\nand quiver slung across his shoulders. He was wrapt in the skin of the\nbiggest and fiercest lion that ever had been seen, and which he himself\nhad killed; and though, on the whole, he was kind, and generous, and\nnoble, there was a good deal of the lion\u2019s fierceness in his heart. As\nhe went on his way, he continually inquired whether that were the right\nroad to the famous garden. But none of the country people knew anything\nabout the matter, and many looked as if they would have laughed at the\nquestion, if the stranger had not carried so very big a club.\n\nSo he journeyed on and on, still making the same inquiry, until, at last,\nhe came to the brink of a river where some beautiful young women sat\ntwining wreaths of flowers.\n\n\u201cCan you tell me, pretty maidens,\u201d asked the stranger, \u201cwhether this is\nthe right way to the garden of the Hesperides?\u201d\n\nThe young women had been having a fine time together, weaving the\nflowers into wreaths, and crowning one another\u2019s heads. And there seemed\nto be a kind of magic in the touch of their fingers, that made the\nflowers more fresh and dewy, and of brighter hues, and sweeter fragrance,\nwhile they played with them, than even when they had been growing on\ntheir native stems. But, on hearing the stranger\u2019s question, they dropped\nall their flowers on the grass, and gazed at him with astonishment.\n\n\u201cThe garden of the Hesperides!\u201d cried one. \u201cWe thought mortals had been\nweary of seeking it, after so many disappointments. And pray, adventurous\ntraveller, what do you want there?\u201d\n\n\u201cA certain king, who is my cousin,\u201d replied he, \u201chas ordered me to get\nhim three of the golden apples.\u201d\n\n\u201cMost of the young men who go in quest of these apples,\u201d observed another\nof the damsels, \u201cdesire to obtain them for themselves, or to present them\nto some fair maiden whom they love. Do you, then, love this king, your\ncousin, so very much?\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps not,\u201d replied the stranger, sighing. \u201cHe has often been severe\nand cruel to me. But it is my destiny to obey him.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd do you know,\u201d asked the damsel who had first spoken, \u201cthat a\nterrible dragon, with a hundred heads, keeps watch under the golden\napple-tree?\u201d\n\n\u201cI know it well,\u201d answered the stranger, calmly. \u201cBut from my cradle\nupwards, it has been my business, and almost my pastime, to deal with\nserpents and dragons.\u201d\n\nThe young women looked at his massive club, and at the shaggy lion\u2019s\nskin which he wore, and likewise at his heroic limbs and figure; and\nthey whispered to each other that the stranger appeared to be one who\nmight reasonably expect to perform deeds far beyond the might of other\nmen. But, then, the dragon with a hundred heads! What mortal, even if\nhe possessed a hundred lives, could hope to escape the fangs of such a\nmonster? So kind-hearted were the maidens, that they could not bear to\nsee this brave and handsome traveller attempt what was so very dangerous,\nand devote himself, most probably, to become a meal for the dragon\u2019s\nhundred ravenous mouths.\n\n\u201cGo back,\u201d cried they all\u2014\u201cgo back to your own home! Your mother,\nbeholding you safe and sound, will shed tears of joy; and what can she do\nmore, should you win ever so great a victory? No matter for the golden\napples! No matter for the king, your cruel cousin! We do not wish the\ndragon with the hundred heads to eat you up!\u201d\n\nThe stranger seemed to grow impatient at these remonstrances. He\ncarelessly lifted his mighty club, and let it fall upon a rock that lay\nhalf buried in the earth, near by. With the force of that idle blow, the\ngreat rock was shattered all to pieces. It cost the stranger no more\neffort to achieve this feat of a giant\u2019s strength than for one of the\nyoung maidens to touch her sister\u2019s rosy cheek with a flower.\n\n\u201cDo you not believe,\u201d said he, looking at the damsels with a smile, \u201cthat\nsuch a blow would have crushed one of the dragon\u2019s hundred heads?\u201d\n\nThen he sat down on the grass, and told them the story of his life, or as\nmuch of it as he could remember, from the day when he was first cradled\nin a warrior\u2019s brazen shield. While he lay there, two immense serpents\ncame gliding over the floor, and opened their hideous jaws to devour him;\nand he, a baby of a few months old, had gripped one of the fierce snakes\nin each of his little fists, and strangled them to death. When he was but\na stripling, he had killed a huge lion, almost as big as the one whose\nvast and shaggy hide he now wore upon his shoulders. The next thing that\nhe had done was to fight a battle with an ugly sort of monster, called a\nhydra, which had no less than nine heads, and exceedingly sharp teeth in\nevery one.\n\n\u201cBut the dragon of the Hesperides, you know,\u201d observed one of the\ndamsels, \u201chas a hundred heads!\u201d\n\n\u201cNevertheless,\u201d replied the stranger, \u201cI would rather fight two such\ndragons than a single hydra. For, as fast as I cut off a head, two others\ngrew in its place; and, besides, there was one of the heads that could\nnot possibly be killed, but kept biting as fiercely as ever, long after\nit was cut off. So I was forced to bury it under a stone, where it is\ndoubtless alive to this very day. But the hydra\u2019s body, and its eight\nother heads, will never do any further mischief.\u201d\n\nThe damsels, judging that the story was likely to last a good while, had\nbeen preparing a repast of bread and grapes, that the stranger might\nrefresh himself in the intervals of his talk. They took pleasure in\nhelping him to this simple food; and, now and then, one of them would put\na sweet grape between her rosy lips, lest it should make him bashful to\neat alone.\n\nThe traveller proceeded to tell how he had chased a very swift stag,\nfor a twelvemonth together, without ever stopping to take breath, and\nhad at last caught it by the antlers, and carried it home alive. And he\nhad fought with a very odd race of people, half horses and half men,\nand had put them all to death, from a sense of duty in order that their\nugly figures might never be seen any more. Besides all this, he took to\nhimself great credit for having cleaned out a stable.\n\n\u201cDo you call that a wonderful exploit?\u201d asked one of the young maidens,\nwith a smile. \u201cAny clown in the country has done as much!\u201d\n\n\u201cHad it been an ordinary stable,\u201d replied the stranger, \u201cI should not\nhave mentioned it. But this was so gigantic a task that it would have\ntaken me all my life to perform it, if I had not luckily thought of\nturning the channel of a river through the stable-door. That did the\nbusiness in a very short time!\u201d\n\nSeeing how earnestly his fair auditors listened, he next told them how\nhe had shot some monstrous birds, and had caught a wild bull alive and\nlet him go again, and had tamed a number of very wild horses, and had\nconquered Hippolyta, the warlike Queen of the Amazons. He mentioned,\nlikewise, that he had taken off Hippolyta\u2019s enchanted girdle, and had\ngiven it to the daughter of his cousin, the king.\n\n\u201cWas it the girdle of Venus,\u201d inquired the prettiest of the damsels,\n\u201cwhich makes women beautiful?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d answered the stranger. \u201cIt had formerly been the sword-belt of\nMars; and it can only make the wearer valiant and courageous.\u201d\n\n\u201cAn old sword-belt!\u201d cried the damsel, tossing her head. \u201cThen I should\nnot care about having it!\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are right,\u201d said the stranger.\n\nGoing on with his wonderful narrative, he informed the maidens that as\nstrange an adventure as ever happened was when he fought with Geryon,\nthe six-legged man. This was a very odd and frightful sort of figure, as\nyou may well believe. Any person, looking at his tracks in the sand or\nsnow, would suppose that three sociable companions had been walking along\ntogether. On hearing his footsteps at a little distance, it was no more\nthan reasonable to judge that several people must be coming. But it was\nonly the strange man Geryon clattering onward, with his six legs!\n\nSix legs, and one gigantic body! Certainly, he must have been a very\nqueer monster to look at; and, my stars, what a waste of shoe leather!\n\nWhen the stranger had finished the story of his adventures, he looked\naround at the attentive faces of the maidens.\n\n\u201cPerhaps you may have heard of me before,\u201d said he, modestly. \u201cMy name is\nHercules!\u201d\n\n\u201cWe had already guessed it,\u201d replied the maidens; \u201cfor your wonderful\ndeeds are known all over the world. We do not think it strange, any\nlonger, that you should set out in quest of the golden apples of the\nHesperides. Come, sisters, let us crown the hero with flowers!\u201d\n\nThen they flung beautiful wreaths over his stately head and mighty\nshoulders, so that the lion\u2019s skin was almost entirely covered with\nroses. They took possession of his ponderous club, and so entwined it\nabout with the brightest, softest, and most fragrant blossoms, that not a\nfinger\u2019s breadth of its oaken substance could be seen. It looked all like\na huge bunch of flowers. Lastly, they joined hands, and danced around\nhim, chanting words which became poetry of their own accord, and grew\ninto a choral song, in honor of the illustrious Hercules.\n\nAnd Hercules was rejoiced, as any other hero would have been, to know\nthat these fair young girls had heard of the valiant deeds which it had\ncost him so much toil and danger to achieve. But, still, he was not\nsatisfied. He could not think that what he had already done was worthy of\nso much honor, while there remained any bold or difficult adventure to be\nundertaken.\n\n\u201cDear maidens,\u201d said he, when they paused to take breath, \u201cnow that you\nknow my name, will you not tell me how I am to reach the garden of the\nHesperides?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! must you go so soon?\u201d they exclaimed. \u201cYou\u2014that have performed so\nmany wonders, and spent such a toilsome life\u2014cannot you content yourself\nto repose a little while on the margin of this peaceful river?\u201d\n\nHercules shook his head.\n\n\u201cI must depart now,\u201d said he.\n\n\u201cWe will then give you the best directions we can,\u201d replied the damsels.\n\u201cYou must go to the seashore, and find out the Old One, and compel him to\ninform you where the golden apples are to be found.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Old One!\u201d repeated Hercules, laughing at this odd name. \u201cAnd, pray,\nwho may the Old One be?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, the Old Man of the Sea, to be sure!\u201d answered one of the damsels.\n\u201cHe has fifty daughters, whom some people call very beautiful; but we\ndo not think it proper to be acquainted with them, because they have\nsea-green hair, and taper away like fishes. You must talk with this Old\nMan of the Sea. He is a seafaring person, and knows all about the garden\nof the Hesperides; for it is situated in an island which he is often in\nthe habit of visiting.\u201d\n\nHercules then asked whereabouts the Old One was most likely to be met\nwith. When the damsels had informed him, he thanked them for all their\nkindness\u2014for the bread and grapes with which they had fed him, the\nlovely flowers with which they had crowned him, and the songs and dances\nwherewith they had done him honor\u2014and he thanked them, most of all, for\ntelling him the right way\u2014and immediately set forth upon his journey.\n\nBut before he was out of hearing, one of the maidens called after him.\n\n\u201cKeep fast hold of the Old One, when you catch him!\u201d cried she, smiling\nand lifting her finger to make the caution more impressive. \u201cDo not be\nastonished at anything that may happen. Only hold him fast, and he will\ntell you what you wish to know.\u201d\n\nHercules again thanked her, and pursued his way, while the maidens\nresumed their pleasant labor of making flower-wreaths. They talked about\nthe hero, long after he was gone.\n\n\u201cWe will crown him with the loveliest of our garlands,\u201d said they, \u201cwhen\nhe returns hither with the three golden apples, after slaying the dragon\nwith a hundred heads.\u201d\n\nMeanwhile, Hercules travelled constantly onward, over hill and dale,\nand through the solitary woods. Sometimes he swung his club aloft, and\nsplintered a mighty oak with a downright blow. His mind was so full of\nthe giants and monsters with whom it was the business of his life to\nfight, that perhaps he mistook the great tree for a giant or a monster.\nAnd so eager was Hercules to achieve what he had undertaken, that he\nalmost regretted to have spent so much time with the damsels, wasting\nidle breath upon the story of his adventures.\n\nBut thus it always is with persons who are destined to perform great\nthings. What they have already done seems less than nothing. What they\nhave taken in hand to do seems worth toil, danger, and life itself.\n\nPersons who happened to be passing through the forest must have been\naffrighted to see him smite the trees with his great club. With but a\nsingle blow, the trunk was riven as by the stroke of lightning, and the\nbroad boughs came rustling and crashing down.\n\nHastening forward, without ever pausing or looking behind, he by and\nby heard the sea roaring at a distance. At this sound, he increased\nhis speed, and soon came to a beach, where the great surf-waves\ntumbled themselves upon the hard sand, in a long line of snowy foam.\nAt one end of the beach, however, there was a pleasant spot, where\nsome green shrubbery clambered up a cliff, making its rocky face look\nsoft and beautiful. A carpet of verdant grass, largely intermixed with\nsweet-smelling clover, covered the narrow space between the bottom of the\ncliff and the sea. And what should Hercules espy there, but an old man,\nfast asleep!\n\nBut was it really and truly an old man? Certainly, at first sight, it\nlooked very like one; but on closer inspection, it rather seemed to be\nsome kind of a creature that lived in the sea. For, on his legs and\narms there were scales, such as fishes have; he was web-footed and\nweb-fingered, after the fashion of a duck; and his long beard, being of\na greenish tinge, had more the appearance of a tuft of seaweed than of\nan ordinary beard. Have you never seen a stick of timber, that has been\nlong tossed about by the waves, and has got all overgrown with barnacles,\nand, at last drifting ashore, seems to have been thrown up from the very\ndeepest bottom of the sea? Well, the old man would have put you in mind\nof just such a wave-tost spar! But Hercules, the instant he set eyes on\nthis strange figure, was convinced that it could be no other than the\nOld One, who was to direct him on his way.\n\nYes, it was the selfsame Old Man of the Sea whom the hospitable maidens\nhad talked to him about. Thanking his stars for the lucky accident of\nfinding the old fellow asleep, Hercules stole on tiptoe towards him, and\ncaught him by the arm and leg.\n\n\u201cTell me,\u201d cried he, before the Old One was well awake, \u201cwhich is the way\nto the garden of the Hesperides.\u201d\n\nAs you may easily imagine, the Old Man of the Sea awoke in a fright.\nBut his astonishment could hardly have been greater than was that of\nHercules, the next moment. For, all of a sudden, the Old One seemed\nto disappear out of his grasp, and he found himself holding a stag\nby the fore and hind leg! But still he kept fast hold. Then the stag\ndisappeared, and in its stead there was a sea-bird, fluttering and\nscreaming, while Hercules clutched it by the wing and claw! But the\nbird could not get away. Immediately afterwards, there was an ugly\nthree-headed dog, which growled and barked at Hercules, and snapped\nfiercely at the hands by which he held him! But Hercules would not let\nhim go. In another minute, instead of the three-headed dog, what should\nappear but Geryon, the six-legged man-monster, kicking at Hercules with\nfive of his legs, in order to get the remaining one at liberty! But\nHercules held on. By and by, no Geryon was there, but a huge snake,\nlike one of those which Hercules had strangled in his babyhood, only a\nhundred times as big; and it twisted and twined about the hero\u2019s neck\nand body, and threw its tail high into the air, and opened its deadly\njaws as if to devour him outright; so that it was really a very terrible\nspectacle! But Hercules was no whit disheartened, and squeezed the great\nsnake so tightly that he soon began to hiss with pain.\n\nYou must understand that the Old Man of the Sea, though he generally\nlooked so much like the wave-beaten figurehead of a vessel, had the power\nof assuming any shape he pleased. When he found himself so roughly seized\nby Hercules, he had been in hopes of putting him into such surprise and\nterror, by these magical transformations, that the hero would be glad\nto let him go. If Hercules had relaxed his grasp, the Old One would\ncertainly have plunged down to the very bottom of the sea, whence he\nwould not soon have given himself the trouble of coming up, in order to\nanswer any impertinent questions. Ninety-nine people out of a hundred, I\nsuppose, would have been frightened out of their wits by the very first\nof his ugly shapes, and would have taken to their heels at once. For one\nof the hardest things in this world is to see the difference between real\ndangers and imaginary ones.\n\nBut, as Hercules held on so stubbornly, and only squeezed the Old One so\nmuch the tighter at every change of shape, and really put him to no small\ntorture, he finally thought it best to reappear in his own figure. So\nthere he was again, a fishy, scaly, web-footed sort of personage, with\nsomething like a tuft of seaweed at his chin.\n\n\u201cPray, what do you want with me?\u201d cried the Old One as soon as he could\ntake breath; for it is quite a tiresome affair to go through so many\nfalse shapes. \u201cWhy do you squeeze me so hard? Let me go, this moment, or\nI shall begin to consider you an extremely uncivil person!\u201d\n\n\u201cMy name is Hercules!\u201d roared the mighty stranger. \u201cAnd you will never\nget out of my clutch, until you tell me the nearest way to the garden of\nthe Hesperides!\u201d\n\nWhen the old fellow heard who it was that had caught him, he saw, with\nhalf an eye, that it would be necessary to tell him everything that\nhe wanted to know. The Old One was an inhabitant of the sea, you must\nrecollect, and roamed about everywhere, like other seafaring people. Of\ncourse, he had often heard of the fame of Hercules, and of the wonderful\nthings that he was constantly performing, in various parts of the earth,\nand how determined he always was to accomplish whatever he undertook.\nHe therefore made no more attempts to escape, but told the hero how\nto find the garden of the Hesperides, and likewise warned him of many\ndifficulties which must be overcome, before he could arrive thither.\n\n\u201cYou must go on, thus and thus,\u201d said the Old Man of the Sea, after\ntaking the points of the compass, \u201ctill you come in sight of a very\ntall giant, who holds the sky on his shoulders. And the giant, if he\nhappens to be in the humor, will tell you exactly where the garden of the\nHesperides lies.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd if the giant happens not to be in the humor,\u201d remarked Hercules,\nbalancing his club on the tip of his finger, \u201cperhaps I shall find means\nto persuade him!\u201d\n\nThanking the Old Man of the Sea, and begging his pardon for having\nsqueezed him so roughly, the hero resumed his journey. He met with a\ngreat many strange adventures, which would be well worth your hearing, if\nI had leisure to narrate them as minutely as they deserve.\n\nIt was in this journey, if I mistake not, that he encountered a\nprodigious giant, who was so wonderfully contrived by nature, that every\ntime he touched the earth, he became ten times as strong as ever he had\nbeen before. His name was Ant\u00e6us. You may see, plainly enough, that it\nwas a very difficult business to fight with such a fellow; for, as often\nas he got a knock-down blow, up he started again, stronger, fiercer, and\nabler to use his weapons than if his enemy had let him alone. Thus, the\nharder Hercules pounded the giant with his club, the further he seemed\nfrom winning the victory. I have sometimes argued with such people, but\nnever fought with one. The only way in which Hercules found it possible\nto finish the battle was by lifting Ant\u00e6us off his feet into the air, and\nsqueezing, and squeezing, and squeezing him, until, finally, the strength\nwas quite squeezed out of his enormous body.\n\nWhen this affair was finished, Hercules continued his travels, and went\nto the land of Egypt, where he was taken prisoner, and would have been\nput to death, if he had not slain the king of the country, and made\nhis escape. Passing through the deserts of Africa, and going as fast as\nhe could, he arrived at last on the shore of the great ocean. And here,\nunless he could walk on the crests of the billows, it seemed as if his\njourney must needs be at an end.\n\nNothing was before him, save the foaming, dashing, measureless ocean.\nBut, suddenly, as he looked towards the horizon, he saw something, a\ngreat way off, which he had not seen the moment before. It gleamed very\nbrightly, almost as you may have beheld the round, golden disk of the\nsun, when it rises or sets over the edge of the world. It evidently drew\nnearer; for, at every instant, this wonderful object became larger and\nmore lustrous. At length, it had come so nigh that Hercules discovered\nit to be an immense cup or bowl, made either of gold or burnished brass.\nHow it had got afloat upon the sea is more than I can tell you. There it\nwas, at all events, rolling on the tumultuous billows, which tossed it up\nand down, and heaved their foamy tops against its sides, but without ever\nthrowing their spray over the brim.\n\n\u201cI have seen many giants, in my time,\u201d thought Hercules, \u201cbut never one\nthat would need to drink his wine out of a cup like this!\u201d\n\nAnd, true enough, what a cup it must have been! It was as large\u2014as\nlarge\u2014but, in short, I am afraid to say how immeasurably large it was.\nTo speak within bounds, it was ten times larger than a great mill-wheel;\nand, all of metal as it was, it floated over the heaving surges more\nlightly than an acorn-cup adown the brook. The waves tumbled it onward,\nuntil it grazed against the shore, within a short distance of the spot\nwhere Hercules was standing.\n\nAs soon as this happened, he knew what was to be done; for he had not\ngone through so many remarkable adventures without learning pretty well\nhow to conduct himself, whenever anything came to pass a little out of\nthe common rule. It was just as clear as daylight that this marvellous\ncup had been set adrift by some unseen power, and guided hitherward, in\norder to carry Hercules across the sea, on his way to the garden of the\nHesperides. Accordingly, without a moment\u2019s delay, he clambered over\nthe brim, and slid down on the inside, where, spreading out his lion\u2019s\nskin, he proceeded to take a little repose. He had scarcely rested,\nuntil now, since he bade farewell to the damsels on the margin of the\nriver. The waves dashed, with a pleasant and ringing sound, against the\ncircumference of the hollow cup; it rocked lightly to and fro, and the\nmotion was so soothing that it speedily rocked Hercules into an agreeable\nslumber.\n\nHis nap had probably lasted a good while, when the cup chanced to\ngraze against a rock, and, in consequence, immediately resounded and\nreverberated through its golden or brazen substance, a hundred times as\nloudly as ever you heard a church-bell. The noise awoke Hercules, who\ninstantly started up and gazed around him, wondering whereabouts he was.\nHe was not long in discovering that the cup had floated across a great\npart of the sea, and was approaching the shore of what seemed to be an\nisland. And, on that island, what do you think he saw?\n\nNo; you will never guess it, not if you were to try fifty thousand times!\nIt positively appears to me that this was the most marvellous spectacle\nthat had ever been seen by Hercules, in the whole course of his wonderful\ntravels and adventures. It was a greater marvel than the hydra with nine\nheads, which kept growing twice as fast as they were cut off; greater\nthan the six-legged man-monster; greater than Ant\u00e6us; greater than\nanything that was ever beheld by anybody, before or since the days of\nHercules, or than anything that remains to be beheld, by travellers in\nall time to come. It was a giant!\n\nBut such an intolerably big giant. A giant as tall as a mountain; so vast\na giant, that the clouds rested about his midst, like a girdle, and hung\nlike a hoary beard from his chin, and flitted before his huge eyes, so\nthat he could neither see Hercules nor the golden cup in which he was\nvoyaging. And, most wonderful of all, the giant held up his great hands\nand appeared to support the sky, which, so far as Hercules could discern\nthrough the clouds, was resting upon his head! This does really seem\nalmost too much to believe.\n\nMeanwhile, the bright cup continued to float onward, and finally touch\nthe strand. Just then a breeze wafted away the clouds from before the\ngiant\u2019s visage, and Hercules beheld it, with all its enormous features;\neyes each of them as big as yonder lake, a nose a mile long, and a mouth\nof the same width. It was a countenance terrible from its enormity of\nsize, but disconsolate and weary, even as you may see the faces of many\npeople, nowadays, who are compelled to sustain burdens above their\nstrength. What the sky was to the giant, such are the cares of earth\nto those who let themselves be weighed down by them. And whenever men\nundertake what is beyond the just measure of their abilities, they\nencounter precisely such a doom as had befallen this poor giant.\n\nPoor fellow! He had evidently stood there a long while. An ancient forest\nhad been growing and decaying around his feet; and oak-trees, of six or\nseven centuries old, had sprung from the acorn, and forced themselves\nbetween his toes.\n\nThe giant now looked down from the far height of his great eyes, and,\nperceiving Hercules, roared out, in a voice that resembled thunder,\nproceeding out of the cloud that had just flitted away from his face.\n\n\u201cWho are you, down at my feet there? And whence do you come, in that\nlittle cup?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am Hercules!\u201d thundered back the hero, in a voice pretty nearly or\nquite as loud as the giant\u2019s own. \u201cAnd I am seeking for the garden of the\nHesperides!\u201d\n\n\u201cHo! ho! ho!\u201d roared the giant, in a fit of immense laughter. \u201cThat is a\nwise adventure truly!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd why not?\u201d cried Hercules, getting a little angry at the giant\u2019s\nmirth. \u201cDo you think I am afraid of the dragon with a hundred heads!\u201d\n\nJust at this time, while they were talking together, some black clouds\ngathered about the giant\u2019s middle, and burst into a tremendous storm\nof thunder and lightning, causing such a pother that Hercules found it\nimpossible to distinguish a word. Only the giant\u2019s immeasurable legs\nwere to be seen, standing up into the obscurity of the tempest; and, now\nand then, a momentary glimpse of his whole figure, mantled in a volume\nof mist. He seemed to be speaking, most of the time; but his big, deep,\nrough voice chimed in with the reverberations of the thunder-claps, and\nrolled away over the hills, like them. Thus, by talking out of season,\nthe foolish giant expended an incalculable quantity of breath, to no\npurpose; for the thunder spoke quite as intelligibly as he.\n\nAt last, the storm swept over, as suddenly as it had come. And there\nagain was the clear sky, and the weary giant holding it up, and the\npleasant sunshine beaming over his vast height, and illuminating it\nagainst the background of the sullen thunderclouds. So far above the\nshower had been his head, that not a hair of it was moistened by the\nrain-drops!\n\nWhen the giant could see Hercules still standing on the seashore, he\nroared out to him anew.\n\n\u201cI am Atlas, the mightiest giant in the world! And I hold the sky upon my\nhead!\u201d\n\n\u201cSo I see,\u201d answered Hercules. \u201cBut, can you show me the way to the\ngarden of the Hesperides?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you want there?\u201d asked the giant.\n\n\u201cI want three of the golden apples,\u201d shouted Hercules, \u201cfor my cousin,\nthe king.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is nobody but myself,\u201d quoth the giant, \u201cthat can go to the garden\nof the Hesperides, and gather the golden apples. If it were not for this\nlittle business of holding up the sky, I would make half a dozen steps\nacross the sea, and get them for you.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are very kind,\u201d replied Hercules. \u201cAnd cannot you rest the sky upon\na mountain?\u201d\n\n\u201cNone of them are quite high enough,\u201d said Atlas, shaking his head. \u201cBut,\nif you were to take your stand on the summit of that nearest one, your\nhead would be pretty nearly on a level with mine. You seem to be a fellow\nof some strength. What if you should take my burden on your shoulders,\nwhile I do your errand for you?\u201d\n\nHercules, as you must be careful to remember, was a remarkably strong\nman; and though it certainly requires a great deal of muscular power to\nuphold the sky, yet, if any mortal could be supposed capable of such\nan exploit, he was the one. Nevertheless, it seemed so difficult an\nundertaking, that, for the first time in his life, he hesitated.\n\n\u201cIs the sky very heavy?\u201d he inquired.\n\n\u201cWhy, not particularly so, at first,\u201d answered the giant, shrugging his\nshoulders. \u201cBut it gets to be a little burdensome, after a thousand\nyears!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd how long a time,\u201d asked the hero, \u201cwill it take you to get the\ngolden apples?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, that will be done in a few moments,\u201d cried Atlas. \u201cI shall take ten\nor fifteen miles at a stride, and be at the garden and back again before\nyour shoulders begin to ache.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d answered Hercules, \u201cI will climb the mountain behind you\nthere, and relieve you of your burden.\u201d\n\nThe truth is, Hercules had a kind heart of his own, and considered that\nhe should be doing the giant a favor, by allowing him this opportunity\nfor a ramble. And, besides, he thought that it would be still more for\nhis own glory, if he could boast of upholding the sky, than merely to\ndo so ordinary a thing as to conquer a dragon with a hundred heads.\nAccordingly, without more words, the sky was shifted from the shoulders\nof Atlas, and placed upon those of Hercules.\n\nWhen this was safely accomplished, the first thing that the giant did\nwas to stretch himself; and you may imagine what a prodigious spectacle\nhe was then. Next, he slowly lifted one of his feet out of the forest\nthat had grown up around it; then, the other. Then, all at once, he began\nto caper, and leap, and dance, for joy at his freedom; flinging himself\nnobody knows how high into the air, and floundering down again with a\nshock that made the earth tremble. Then he laughed\u2014Ho! ho! ho!\u2014with a\nthunderous roar that was echoed from the mountains, far and near, as if\nthey and the giant had been so many rejoicing brothers. When his joy\nhad a little subsided, he stepped into the sea; ten miles at the first\nstride, which brought him mid-leg deep; and ten miles at the second, when\nthe water came just above his knees; and ten miles more at the third, by\nwhich he was immersed nearly to his waist. This was the greatest depth of\nthe sea.\n\nHercules watched the giant, as he still went onward; for it was really\na wonderful sight, this immense human form, more than thirty miles\noff, half hidden in the ocean, but with his upper half as tall, and\nmisty, and blue, as a distant mountain. At last the gigantic shape faded\nentirely out of view. And now Hercules began to consider what he should\ndo, in case Atlas should be drowned in the sea, or if he were to be\nstung to death by the dragon with the hundred heads, which guarded the\ngolden apples of the Hesperides. If any such misfortune were to happen,\nhow could he ever get rid of the sky? And, by the by, its weight began\nalready to be a little irksome to his head and shoulders.\n\n\u201cI really pity the poor giant,\u201d thought Hercules. \u201cIf it wearies me so\nmuch in ten minutes, how must it have wearied him in a thousand years!\u201d\n\nO my sweet little people, you have no idea what a weight there was in\nthat same blue sky, which looks so soft and aerial above our heads!\nAnd there, too, was the bluster of the wind, and the chill and watery\nclouds, and the blazing sun, all taking their turns to make Hercules\nuncomfortable! He began to be afraid that the giant would never come\nback. He gazed wistfully at the world beneath him, and acknowledged to\nhimself that it was a far happier kind of life to be a shepherd at the\nfoot of a mountain, than to stand on its dizzy summit, and bear up the\nfirmament with his might and main. For, of course, as you will easily\nunderstand, Hercules had an immense responsibility on his mind, as well\nas a weight on his head and shoulders. Why, if he did not stand perfectly\nstill, and keep the sky immovable, the sun would perhaps be put ajar! Or,\nafter nightfall, a great many of the stars might be loosened from their\nplaces, and shower down, like fiery rain, upon the people\u2019s heads! And\nhow ashamed would the hero be, if, owing to his unsteadiness beneath its\nweight, the sky should crack, and show a great fissure quite across it!\n\nI know not how long it was before, to his unspeakable joy, he beheld the\nhuge shape of the giant, like a cloud, on the far-off edge of the sea.\nAt his nearer approach, Atlas held up his hand, in which Hercules could\nperceive three magnificent golden apples, as big as pumpkins, all hanging\nfrom one branch.\n\n\u201cI am glad to see you again,\u201d shouted Hercules, when the giant was within\nhearing. \u201cSo you have got the golden apples?\u201d\n\n\u201cCertainly, certainly,\u201d answered Atlas; \u201cand very fair apples they are.\nI took the finest that grew on the tree, I assure you. Ah! it is a\nbeautiful spot, that garden of the Hesperides. Yes; and the dragon with\na hundred heads is a sight worth any man\u2019s seeing. After all, you had\nbetter have gone for the apples yourself.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo matter,\u201d replied Hercules. \u201cYou have had a pleasant ramble, and have\ndone the business as well as I could. I heartily thank you for your\ntrouble. And now, as I have a long way to go, and am rather in haste\u2014and\nas the king, my cousin, is anxious to receive the golden apples\u2014will you\nbe kind enough to take the sky off my shoulders again?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, as to that,\u201d said the giant, chucking the golden apples into the\nair twenty miles high, or thereabouts and catching them as they came\ndown\u2014\u201cas to that, my good friend, I consider you a little unreasonable.\nCannot I carry the golden apples to the king, your cousin, much quicker\nthan you could? As his majesty is in such a hurry to get them, I promise\nyou to take my longest strides. And besides, I have no fancy for\nburdening myself with the sky, just now.\u201d\n\nHere Hercules grew impatient, and gave a great shrug of his shoulders. It\nbeing now twilight, you might have seen two or three stars tumble out of\ntheir places. Everybody on earth looked upward in affright, thinking that\nthe sky might be going to fall next.\n\n\u201cOh, that will never do!\u201d cried Giant Atlas, with a great roar of\nlaughter. \u201cI have not let fall so many stars within the last five\ncenturies. By the time you have stood there as long as I did, you will\nbegin to learn patience!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat!\u201d shouted Hercules, very wrathfully, \u201cdo you intend to make me bear\nthis burden forever?\u201d\n\n\u201cWe will see about that, one of these days,\u201d answered the giant. \u201cAt\nall events, you ought not to complain, if you have to bear it the next\nhundred years, or perhaps the next thousand. I bore it a good while\nlonger, in spite of the backache. Well, then, after a thousand years, if\nI happen to feel in the mood, we may possibly shift about again. You are\ncertainly a very strong man, and can never have a better opportunity to\nprove it. Posterity will talk of you, I warrant it!\u201d\n\n\u201cPish! a fig for its talk!\u201d cried Hercules, with another hitch of his\nshoulders. \u201cJust take the sky upon your head one instant, will you? I\nwant to make a cushion of my lion\u2019s skin, for the weight to rest upon.\nIt really chafes me, and will cause unnecessary inconvenience in so many\ncenturies as I am to stand here.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s no more than fair, and I\u2019ll do it!\u201d quoth the giant; for he had\nno unkind feeling towards Hercules, and was merely acting with a too\nselfish consideration of his own ease. \u201cFor just five minutes, then, I\u2019ll\ntake back the sky. Only for five minutes, recollect! I have no idea of\nspending another thousand years as I spent the last. Variety is the spice\nof life, say I.\u201d\n\nAh, the thick-witted old rogue of a giant! He threw down the golden\napples, and received back the sky, from the head and shoulders of\nHercules, upon his own, where it rightly belonged. And Hercules picked up\nthe three golden apples, that were as big or bigger than pumpkins, and\nstraightway set out on his journey homeward, without paying the slightest\nheed to the thundering tones of the giant, who bellowed after him to come\nback. Another forest sprang up around his feet, and grew ancient there;\nand again might be seen oak-trees, of six or seven centuries old, that\nhad waxed thus aged betwixt his enormous toes.\n\nAnd there stands the giant to this day; or, at any rate, there stands a\nmountain as tall as he, and which bears his name; and when the thunder\nrumbles about its summit, we may imagine it to be the voice of Giant\nAtlas, bellowing after Hercules!\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF CUPID AND PSYCHE\n\nBy Thomas Bulfinch\n\n\nA certain king and queen had three daughters. The charms of the two elder\nwere more than common, but the beauty of the youngest was so wonderful\nthat the poverty of language is unable to express its due praise. The\nfame of her beauty was so great that strangers from neighboring countries\ncame in crowds to enjoy the sight, and looked on her with amazement,\npaying her that homage which is due only to Venus herself. In fact Venus\nfound her altars deserted, while men turned their devotion to this young\nvirgin. As she passed along, the people sang her praises, and strewed her\nway with chaplets and flowers.\n\nThis gave great offense to the real Venus. Shaking her locks with\nindignation, she exclaimed, \u201cAm I then to be eclipsed in my honors by a\nmortal girl? She shall not so quietly usurp my honors. I will give her\ncause to repent of so unlawful a beauty.\u201d\n\nThereupon she calls her winged son Cupid, mischievous enough in his own\nnature, and rouses and provokes him yet more by her complaints. She\npoints out Psyche to him and says, \u201cMy dear son, punish that obstinate\nbeauty; give thy mother a revenge as sweet as her injuries are great;\ninfuse into the bosom of that haughty girl a passion for some low, mean,\nunworthy being, so that she may reap a mortification as great as her\npresent exultation and triumph.\u201d\n\nCupid prepared to obey the commands of his mother. There are two\nfountains in Venus\u2019s garden, one of sweet waters, the other of bitter.\nCupid filled two amber vases, one from each fountain, and suspending them\nfrom the top of his quiver, hastened to the chamber of Psyche, whom he\nfound asleep. He shed a few drops from the bitter fountain over her lips,\nthough the sight of her almost moved him to pity; then touched her side\nwith the point of his arrow. At the touch she awoke, and opened eyes upon\nCupid (himself invisible), which so startled him that in his confusion\nhe wounded himself with his own arrow. Heedless of his wound, his whole\nthought now was to repair the mischief he had done, and he poured the\nbalmy drops of joy over all her silken ringlets.\n\nPsyche, henceforth frowned upon by Venus, derived no benefit from all\nher charms. True, all eyes were cast eagerly upon her, and every mouth\nspoke her praises; but neither king, royal youth, nor plebeian presented\nhimself to demand her in marriage. Her two elder sisters of moderate\ncharms, had now long been married to two royal princes; but Psyche, in\nher lonely apartment, deplored her solitude, sick of that beauty which,\nwhile it procured abundance of flattery, had failed to awaken love.\n\nHer parents, afraid they had incurred the anger of the gods, consulted\nthe oracle of Apollo, and received this answer: \u201cThe virgin is destined\nfor the bride of no mortal lover. Her future husband awaits her on the\ntop of the mountain. He is a monster whom neither gods nor men can\nresist.\u201d\n\nThis dreadful decree of the oracle filled all the people with dismay, and\nher parents abandoned themselves to grief. But Psyche said, \u201cWhy, my dear\nparents, do you now lament me? You should rather have grieved when the\npeople showered upon me undeserved honors, and with one voice called me a\nVenus. I now perceive that I am a victim to that name. I submit. Lead me\nto that rock to which my unhappy fate has destined me.\u201d\n\nAccordingly, all things being prepared, the royal maid took her place\nin the procession, which more resembled a funeral than a nuptial pomp,\nand with her parents, amid the lamentations of the people, ascended the\nmountain, on the summit of which they left her alone, and with sorrowful\nhearts returned home.\n\nWhile Psyche stood on the ridge of the mountain, panting with fear and\nwith eyes full of tears, the gentle Zephyr raised her from the earth and\nbore her with an easy motion into a flowery dale. By degrees her mind\nbecame composed, and she laid herself down on the grassy bank to sleep.\nWhen she awoke refreshed with sleep, she looked round and beheld near by\na pleasant grove of tall and stately trees. She entered it, and in the\nmidst discovered a fountain, sending forth clear and crystal waters, and\nfast by, a magnificent palace whose august front impressed the spectator\nthat it was not the work of mortal hands, but the happy retreat of some\ngod. Drawn by admiration and wonder, she approached the building and\nventured to enter. Every object she met filled her with pleasure and\namazement. Golden pillars supported the vaulted roof, and the walls\nwere enriched with carvings and paintings representing beasts of the\nchase and rural scenes. Proceeding onward, she perceived that besides\nthe apartments of state there were others filled with all manner of\ntreasures, and beautiful and precious productions of nature and art.\n\nWhile her eyes were thus occupied, a voice addressed her, though she\nsaw no one, uttering these words: \u201cSovereign lady, all that you see is\nyours. We whose voices you hear are your servants and shall obey all your\ncommands with our utmost care and diligence. Retire, therefore, to your\nchamber and repose on your bed of down, and when you see fit repair to\nthe bath. Supper awaits you in the adjoining alcove when it pleases you\nto take your seat there.\u201d\n\nPsyche gave ear to the admonitions of her vocal attendants, and after\nrepose and the refreshment of the bath, seated herself in the alcove,\nwhere a table immediately presented itself, without any visible aid from\nwaiters or servants, and covered with the greatest delicacies of food.\nHer ears too were feasted with music from invisible performers; of whom\none sang, another played on the lute, and all closed in the wonderful\nharmony of a full chorus.\n\nShe had not yet seen her destined husband. He came only in the hours of\ndarkness and fled before the dawn of morning, but his accents were full\nof love, and inspired a like passion in her. She often begged him to\nstay and let her behold him, but he would not consent. On the contrary\nhe charged her to make no attempt to see him, for it was his pleasure,\nfor the best of reasons, to keep concealed. \u201cWhy should you wish to\nbehold me?\u201d he said; \u201chave you any doubt of my love? have you any wish\nungratified? If you saw me, perhaps you would fear me, perhaps adore me,\nbut all I ask of you is to love me. I would rather you would love me as\nan equal than adore me as a god.\u201d\n\nThis reasoning somewhat quieted Psyche for a time, and while the novelty\nlasted she felt quite happy. But at length the thought of her parents,\nleft in ignorance of her fate, and of her sisters, preyed on her mind\nand made her begin to feel her palace as but a splendid prison. When her\nhusband came one night, she told him her distress, and at last drew from\nhim an unwilling consent that her sisters should be brought to see her.\n\nSo, calling Zephyr, she acquainted him with her husband\u2019s commands, and\nhe, promptly obedient, soon brought them across the mountain down to\ntheir sister\u2019s valley. They embraced her and she returned their caresses.\n\u201cCome,\u201d said Psyche, \u201center with me my house and refresh yourselves with\nwhatever your sister has to offer.\u201d Then taking their hands she led them\ninto her golden palace, and committed them to the care of her numerous\ntrain of attendant voices, to refresh them in her baths and at her\ntable, and to show them all her treasures. The view of these celestial\ndelights caused envy to enter their bosoms, at seeing their young sister\npossessed of such state and splendor, so much exceeding their own.\n\nThey asked her numberless questions, among others what sort of a person\nher husband was. Psyche replied that he was a beautiful youth, who\ngenerally spent the daytime in hunting upon the mountains. The sisters,\nnot satisfied with this reply, soon made her confess that she had never\nseen him. Then they proceeded to fill her mind with dark suspicions.\n\u201cCall to mind,\u201d they said, \u201cthe Pythian oracle that declared you destined\nto marry a direful and tremendous monster. The inhabitants of this valley\nsay that your husband is a terrible and monstrous serpent, who nourishes\nyou for a while with dainties that he may by and by devour you. Take\nour advice. Provide yourself with a lamp and a sharp knife; put them in\nconcealment that your husband may not discover them, and when he is sound\nasleep, slip out of bed, bring forth your lamp, and see for yourself\nwhether what they say is true or not. If it is, hesitate not to cut off\nthe monster\u2019s head, and thereby recover your liberty.\u201d\n\nPsyche resisted these persuasions as well as she could, but they did not\nfail to have their effect on her mind, and when her sisters were gone,\ntheir words and her own curiosity were too strong for her to resist. So\nshe prepared her lamp and a sharp knife, and hid them out of sight of her\nhusband. When he had fallen asleep, she silently rose and uncovering her\nlamp beheld not a hideous monster, but the most beautiful and charming\nof the gods, with golden ringlets wandering over his snowy neck and\ncrimson cheek, with two wings on his shoulders, whiter than snow, and\nwith shining feathers like the tender blossoms of spring. As she leaned\nover to have a nearer view of his face a drop of burning oil fell on the\nshoulder of the god, startled with which he opened his eyes and fixed\nthem full upon her; then, without saying one word, he spread his white\nwings and flew out of the window. Psyche, in vain endeavoring to follow\nhim, fell from the window to the ground. Cupid, beholding her as she\nlay in the dust, stopped his flight for an instant and said, \u201cO foolish\nPsyche, is it thus you repay my love? After having disobeyed my mother\u2019s\ncommands and made you my wife, will you think me a monster and cut off\nmy head? But go; return to your sisters, whose advice you seem to think\npreferable to mine. I inflict no other punishment on you than to leave\nyou forever. Love cannot dwell with suspicion.\u201d So saying, he fled away,\nleaving poor Psyche prostrate on the ground, filling the place with\nmournful lamentations.\n\nWhen she had recovered some degree of composure she looked around her,\nbut the palace and gardens had vanished, and she found herself in the\nopen field not far from the city where her sisters dwelt. She repaired\nthither and told them the story of her misfortunes, at which, pretending\nto grieve, those spiteful creatures inwardly rejoiced. \u201cFor now,\u201d said\nthey, \u201che will perhaps choose one of us.\u201d With this idea, without saying\na word of her intentions, each of them rose early the next morning and\nascended the mountain, and having reached the top, called upon Zephyr to\nreceive her and bear her to his lord; then leaping up, and not being\nsustained by Zephyr, fell down the precipice and was dashed to pieces.\n\nPsyche meanwhile wandered day and night, without food or repose, in\nsearch of her husband. Casting her eyes on a lofty mountain having on its\nbrow a magnificent temple, she sighed and said to herself, \u201cPerhaps my\nlord inhabits there,\u201d and directed her steps thither.\n\nShe had no sooner entered than she saw heaps of corn, some in loose ears\nand some in sheaves, with mingled ears of barley. Scattered about, lay\nsickles and rakes, and all the instruments of harvest, without order, as\nif thrown carelessly out of the weary reapers\u2019 hands in the sultry hours\nof the day.\n\nThis unseemly confusion Psyche put an end to, by separating and sorting\neverything to its proper place and kind, believing that she ought neglect\nnone of the gods, but endeavor by her piety to engage them all in her\nbehalf. The holy Ceres, whose temple it was, finding her so religiously\nemployed, thus spoke to her: \u201cO Psyche, truly worthy of our pity, though\nI cannot shield you from the frowns of Venus, yet I can teach you how\nbest to allay her displeasure. Go, then, and voluntarily surrender\nyourself to your lady and sovereign, and try by modesty and submission to\nwin her forgiveness, and perhaps her favor will restore you the husband\nyou have lost.\u201d\n\nPsyche obeyed the commands of Ceres and took her way to the temple of\nVenus, endeavoring to fortify her mind and ruminating on what she should\nsay and how best propitiate the angry goddess, feeling that the issue\nwas doubtful and perhaps fatal.\n\nVenus received her with angry countenance. \u201cMost undutiful and faithless\nof servants,\u201d said she, \u201cdo you at last remember that you really have a\nmistress? Or have you rather come to see your sick husband, yet laid up\nof the wound given him by his loving wife? You are so ill-favored and\ndisagreeable that the only way you can merit your lover must be by dint\nof industry and diligence. I will make trial of your housewifery.\u201d Then\nshe ordered Psyche to be led to the storehouse of her temple, where was\nlaid up a great quantity of wheat, barley, millet, vetches, beans, and\nlentils prepared for food for her pigeons, and said, \u201cTake and separate\nall these grains, putting all of the same kind in a parcel by themselves,\nand see that you get it done before evening.\u201d Then Venus departed and\nleft her to her task.\n\nBut Psyche, in a perfect consternation at the enormous work, sat stupid\nand silent, without moving a finger to the inextricable heap.\n\nWhile she sat despairing, Cupid stirred up the little ant, a native\nof the fields, to take compassion on her. The leader of the ant hill,\nfollowed by whole hosts of his six-legged subjects, approached the heap,\nand with the utmost diligence taking grain by grain, they separated the\npile, sorting each kind to its parcel; and when it was all done, they\nvanished out of sight in a moment.\n\nVenus at the approach of twilight returned from the banquet of the gods,\nbreathing odors and crowned with roses. Seeing the task done, she\nexclaimed, \u201cThis is no work of yours, wicked one, but his, whom to your\nown and his misfortune you have enticed.\u201d So saying, she threw her a\npiece of black bread for her supper and went away.\n\nNext morning Venus ordered Psyche to be called and said to her, \u201cBehold\nyonder grove which stretches along the margin of the water. There you\nwill find sheep feeding without a shepherd, with golden-shining fleeces\non their backs. Go fetch me a sample of that precious wool gathered from\nevery one of their fleeces.\u201d\n\nPsyche obediently went to the riverside, prepared to do her best to\nexecute the command. But the river god inspired the reeds with harmonious\nmurmurs, which seemed to say, \u201cO maiden, severely tried, tempt not the\ndangerous flood, nor venture among the formidable rams on the other side,\nfor as long as they are under the influence of the rising sun, they burn\nwith a cruel rage to destroy mortals with their sharp horns or rude\nteeth. But when the noontide sun has driven the cattle to the shade, and\nthe serene spirit of the flood has lulled them to rest, you may then\ncross in safety, and you will find the woolly gold sticking to the bushes\nand the trunks of the trees.\u201d\n\nThus the compassionate river god gave Psyche instructions how to\naccomplish her task, and by observing his directions she soon returned to\nVenus with her arms full of the golden fleece; but she received not the\napprobation of her implacable mistress, who said, \u201cI know very well that\nit is by none of your own doings that you have succeeded in this task,\nand I am not satisfied yet that you have any capacity to make yourself\nuseful. But I have another task for you. Here, take this box and go your\nway to the infernal shades, and give this box to Proserpine and say, \u2018My\nmistress Venus desires you to send her a little of your beauty, for in\ntending her sick son she has lost some of her own.\u2019 Be not too long on\nyour errand, for I must paint myself with it to appear at the circle of\nthe gods and goddesses this evening.\u201d\n\nPsyche was now satisfied that her destruction was at hand, being obliged\nto go with her own feet directly down to Erebus. Wherefore, to make no\ndelay of what was not to be avoided, she goes to the top of a high tower\nto precipitate herself headlong, thus to descend the shortest way to the\nshades below. But a voice from the tower said to her, \u201cWhy, poor unlucky\ngirl, dost thou design to put an end to thy days in so dreadful a manner?\nAnd what cowardice makes thee sink under this last danger who hast been\nso miraculously supported in all thy former?\u201d Then the voice told her how\nby a certain cave she might reach the realms of Pluto, and how to avoid\nall the dangers of the road, to pass by Cerberus, the three-headed dog,\nand prevail on Charon, the ferryman, to take her across the black river\nand bring her back again. But the voice added, \u201cWhen Proserpine has given\nyou the box filled with her beauty, of all things this is chiefly to be\nobserved by you, that you never once open or look into the box nor allow\nyour curiosity to pry into the treasure of the beauty of the goddesses.\u201d\n\nPsyche, encouraged by this advice, obeyed it in all things, and taking\nheed to her ways travelled safely to the kingdom of Pluto. She was\nadmitted to the palace of Proserpine, and without accepting the seat or\ndelicious banquet that was offered her, but contented with coarse bread\nfor her food, she delivered her message from Venus. Presently the box was\nreturned to her, shut and filled with the precious commodity. Then she\nreturned the way she came, and glad was she to come out once more into\nthe light of day.\n\nBut having got so far successfully through her dangerous task, a longing\ndesire seized her to examine the contents of the box. \u201cWhat,\u201d said she,\n\u201cshall I, the carrier of this divine beauty, not take the least bit to\nput on my cheeks to appear to more advantage in the eyes of my beloved\nhusband!\u201d So she carefully opened the box, but found nothing there of any\nbeauty at all, but an infernal and truly Stygian sleep, which being thus\nset free from its prison, took possession of her, and she fell down in\nthe midst of the road, without sense or motion.\n\nBut Cupid, being now recovered from his wound, and not able longer to\nbear the absence of his beloved Psyche, slipping through the smallest\ncrack of the window of his chamber which happened to be left open, flew\nto the spot where Psyche lay, and gathering up the sleep from her body\nclosed it again in the box, and waked Psyche with a light touch of one\nof his arrows. \u201cAgain,\u201d said he, \u201chast thou almost perished by the same\ncuriosity. But now perform exactly the task imposed on you by my mother,\nand I will take care of the rest.\u201d\n\nThen Cupid, as swift as lightning penetrating the heights of heaven,\npresented himself before Jupiter with his supplication. Jupiter lent\na favoring ear, and pleaded the cause of the lovers so earnestly with\nVenus that he won her consent. On this he sent Mercury to bring Psyche\nup to the heavenly assembly, and when she arrived, handing her a cup of\nambrosia, he said, \u201cDrink this, Psyche, and be immortal; nor shall Cupid\never break away from the knot in which he is tied, but these nuptials\nshall be perpetual.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nHOW PHA\u00cbTON DROVE THE SUN\n\nBy Thomas Bulfinch\n\n\nPha\u00ebton was the son of Apollo and the nymph Clymene. One day a\nschoolfellow laughed at the idea of his being the son of the god, and\nPha\u00ebton went in rage and shame and reported it to his mother. \u201cIf,\u201d said\nhe, \u201cI am indeed of heavenly birth, give me, mother, some proof of it,\nand establish my claim to the honor.\u201d Clymene stretched forth her hands\ntowards the skies, and said, \u201cI call to witness the Sun which looks down\nupon us, that I have told you the truth. If I speak falsely, let this be\nthe last time I behold his light. But it needs not much labor to go and\ninquire for yourself; the land whence the Sun rises lies next to ours.\nGo and demand of him whether he will own you as a son.\u201d Pha\u00ebton heard\nwith delight. He travelled to India, which lies directly in the regions\nof sunrise; and, full of hope and pride, approached the goal whence his\nparent begins his course.\n\nThe palace of the Sun stood reared aloft on columns, glittering with gold\nand precious stones, while polished ivory formed the ceilings, and silver\nthe doors. Upon the walls Vulcan had represented earth, sea, and skies,\nwith their inhabitants. In the sea were the nymphs, some sporting in the\nwaves, some riding on the backs of fishes, while others sat upon the\nrocks and dried their sea-green hair. The earth had its towns and forests\nand rivers. Over all was carved the likeness of the glorious heaven; and\non the silver doors the twelve signs of the zodiac, six on each side.\n\nClymene\u2019s son advanced up the steep ascent, and entered the halls of his\nfather. He approached the paternal presence, but stopped at a distance,\nfor the light was more than he could bear. Ph\u0153bus, arrayed in a purple\nvesture, sat on a throne, which glittered as with diamonds. On his right\nhand and his left stood the Day, the Month, and the Year, and, at regular\nintervals, the Hours. Spring stood with her head crowned with flowers,\nand Summer, with a garland formed of spears of ripened grain, and Autumn,\nwith his feet stained with grape-juice, and icy Winter, with his hair\nstiffened with hoar frost.\n\nSurrounded by these attendants, the Sun, with the eye that sees\neverything, beheld the youth dazzled with the novelty and splendor of\nthe scene, and inquired the purpose of his errand. The youth replied, \u201cO\nlight of the boundless world, Ph\u0153bus, my father\u2014if you permit me to use\nthat name\u2014give me some proof, I beseech you, by which I may be known as\nyours.\u201d He ceased; and his father, laying aside the beams that shone all\naround his head, bade him approach, and embracing him, said, \u201cMy son, you\ndeserve not to be disowned, and I confirm what your mother has told you.\nTo put an end to your doubts, ask what you will, the gift shall be yours.\nI call to witness that dreadful lake, which I never saw, but which we\ngods swear by in our most solemn engagements.\u201d Pha\u00ebton immediately asked\nto be permitted for one day to drive the chariot of the Sun. The father\nrepented of his promise; thrice and four times he shook his radiant\nhead in warning. \u201cI have spoken rashly,\u201d said he; \u201cthis request only I\nwould deny. I beg you to withdraw it. It is not a safe boon, nor one,\nmy Pha\u00ebton, suited to your youth and strength. Your lot is mortal, and\nyou ask what is beyond a mortal\u2019s power. In your ignorance you aspire\nto do that which not even the gods themselves may do. None but myself\nmay drive the flaming car of day. Not even Jupiter, whose terrible right\narm hurls the thunderbolts. The first part of the way is steep, and such\nas the horses when fresh in the morning can hardly climb; the middle is\nhigh up in the heavens, whence I myself can scarcely, without alarm, look\ndown and behold the earth and sea stretched beneath me. The last part of\nthe road descends rapidly, and requires most careful driving. Tethys,\nwho is waiting to receive me, often trembles for me lest I should fall\nheadlong. Add to all this, the heaven is all the time turning round and\ncarrying the stars with it. I have to be perpetually on my guard lest\nthat movement, which sweeps everything else along, should hurry me also\naway. Suppose I should lend you the chariot, what would you do? Could you\nkeep your course while the earth was revolving under you? Perhaps you\nthink that there are forests and cities, the abodes of gods, and palaces\nand temples on the way. On the contrary, the road is through the midst\nof frightful monsters. You pass by the horns of the Bull, in front of\nthe Archer, and near the Lion\u2019s jaws, and where the Scorpion stretches\nits arms in one direction and the Crab in another. Nor will you find it\neasy to guide those horses, with their breasts full of fire that they\nbreathe forth from their mouths and nostrils. I can scarcely govern them\nmyself, when they are unruly and resist the reins. Beware, my son, lest\nI be the donor of a fatal gift, recall your request while yet you may.\nDo you ask me for a proof that you are sprung from my blood? I give you\na proof in my fears for you. Look at my face\u2014I would that you could look\ninto my heart, you would there see all a father\u2019s anxiety. Finally,\u201d he\ncontinued, \u201clook round the world and choose whatever you will of what\nearth or sea contains most precious\u2014ask it and fear no refusal. This only\nI pray you not to urge. It is not honor, but destruction you seek. Why\ndo you hang round my neck and still entreat me? You shall have it if you\npersist\u2014the oath is sworn and must be kept\u2014but I beg you to choose more\nwisely.\u201d\n\nHe ended; but the youth rejected all admonition and held to his demand.\nSo, having resisted as long as he could, Ph\u0153bus at last led the way to\nwhere stood the lofty chariot.\n\nIt was of gold, the gift of Vulcan; the axle was of gold, the pole\nand wheels of gold, the spokes of silver. Along the seat were rows of\nchrysolites and diamonds which reflected the brightness of the sun. While\nthe daring youth gazed in admiration, the early Dawn threw open the\npurple doors of the east, and showed the pathway strewn with roses. The\nstars withdrew, marshalled by the Day-star, which last of all retired\nalso. The father, when he saw the earth beginning to glow, and the Moon\npreparing to retire, ordered the Hours to harness up the horses. They\nobeyed, and led forth the steeds from the lofty stalls, and attached\nthe reins. Then the father bathed the face of his son with a powerful\nointment, and made him capable of enduring the brightness of the flame.\nHe set the rays on his head, and, with a foreboding sigh, said, \u201cIf, my\nson, you will in this at least heed my advice, spare the whip and hold\ntight the reins. They go fast enough of their own accord; the labor is\nto hold them in. You are not to take the straight road directly between\nthe five circles, but turn off to the left. Keep within the limit of the\nmiddle zone, and avoid the northern and the southern alike. You will see\nthe marks of the wheels, and they will serve to guide you. And, that the\nskies and the earth may each receive their due share of heat, go not too\nhigh, or you will burn the heavenly dwellings, nor too low, or you will\nset the earth on fire; the middle course is safest and best. And now I\nleave you to your chance, which I hope will plan better for you than you\nhave done for yourself. Night is passing out of the western gates and\nwe can delay no longer. Take the reins; but if at last your heart fails\nyou, and you will benefit by my advice, stay where you are in safety, and\nsuffer me to light and warm the earth.\u201d The agile youth sprang into the\nchariot, stood erect, and grasped the reins with delight, pouring out\nthanks to his reluctant parent.\n\nMeanwhile the horses fill the air with their snortings and fiery breath,\nand stamp the ground impatiently. Now the bars are let down, and the\nboundless plain of the universe lies open before them. They dart forward\nand cleave the opposing clouds, and outrun the morning breezes which\nstarted from the same eastern goal. The steeds soon perceived that the\nload they drew was lighter than usual; and as a ship without ballast\nis tossed hither and thither on the sea, so the chariot, without its\naccustomed weight, was dashed about as if empty. They rush headlong and\nleave the travelled road. Pha\u00ebton is alarmed, and knows not how to guide\nthem; nor, if he knew, has he the power. Then, for the first time, the\nGreat and Little Bear were scorched with heat, and would fain, if it were\npossible, have plunged into the water; and the Serpent which lies coiled\nup round the north pole, torpid and harmless, grew warm, and with warmth\nfelt its rage revive.\n\nWhen Pha\u00ebton looked down upon the earth, now spreading in vast extent\nbeneath him, he grew pale and his knees shook with terror. In spite of\nthe glare all around him, the sight of his eyes grew dim. He wished\nhe had never touched his father\u2019s horses, never learned his parentage,\nnever prevailed in his request. He is borne along like a vessel that\nflies before a tempest, when the pilot can do no more. What shall he do?\nMuch of the heavenly road is left behind, but more remains before. He\nturns his eyes from one direction to the other; now to the goal whence he\nbegan his course, now to the realms of sunset which he is not destined\nto reach. He loses his self-command, and knows not what to do\u2014whether\nto draw tight the reins or throw them loose; he forgets the names of\nthe horses. He sees with terror the monstrous forms scattered over the\nsurface of heaven. Here the Scorpion extended his two great arms, with\nhis tail and crooked claws stretching over two signs of the zodiac. When\nthe boy beheld him, reeking with poison and menacing with his fangs, his\ncourage failed, and the reins fell from his hands. The horses, when they\nfelt them loose on their backs, dashed headlong, and unrestrained went\noff into unknown regions of the sky, in among the stars, hurling the\nchariot over pathless places, now up in high heaven, now down almost to\nthe earth. The Moon saw with astonishment her brother\u2019s chariot running\nbeneath her own. The clouds begin to smoke, and the mountain tops take\nfire; the fields are parched with heat, the plants wither, the trees with\ntheir leafy branches burn, the harvest is ablaze! But these are small\nthings. Great cities perished, with their walls and towers; whole nations\nwith their people were consumed to ashes! Then Pha\u00ebton beheld the world\non fire, and felt the heat intolerable. The air he breathed was like the\nair of a furnace and full of burning ashes, and the smoke was of a pitchy\ndarkness. He dashed forward he knew not whither. Then, it is believed,\nthe people of \u00c6thiopia became black by the blood being forced so suddenly\nto the surface, and the Libyan desert was dried up to the condition\nin which it remains to this day. The Nymphs of the fountains, with\ndishevelled hair, mourned their waters, nor were the rivers safe beneath\ntheir banks. The Nile fled away and hid his head in the desert, and there\nit still remains concealed. Where he used to discharge his waters through\nseven mouths into the sea, there seven dry channels alone remained. The\nearth cracked open, and through the chinks light broke into Tartarus,\nand frightened the King of Shadows and his queen. The sea shrank up.\nWhere before was water, it became a dry plain; and the mountains that lie\nbeneath the waves lifted up their heads and became islands. The fishes\nsought the lowest depths, and the dolphins no longer ventured as usual to\nsport on the surface. Thrice Neptune essayed to raise his head above the\nsurface, and thrice was driven back by the heat. Earth, surrounded as she\nwas by waters, yet with head and shoulders bare, screening her face with\nher hand, looked up to heaven, and with a husky voice called on Jupiter:\n\n\u201cO ruler of the gods, if I have deserved this treatment, and it is\nyour will that I perish with fire, why withhold your thunderbolts? Let\nme at least fall by your hand. Is this the reward of my fertility, of\nmy obedient service? Is it for this that I have supplied herbage for\ncattle, and fruits for men, and frankincense for your altars? But if I\nam unworthy of regard, what has my brother Ocean done to deserve such a\nfate? If neither of us can excite your pity, think, I pray you, of your\nown heaven, and behold how both the poles are smoking which sustain your\npalace, which must fall if they be destroyed. Atlas faints, and scarce\nholds up his burden. If sea, earth, and heaven perish, we fall into\nancient Chaos. Save what yet remains to us from the devouring flame. Oh,\ntake thought for our deliverance in this awful moment!\u201d\n\nThus spoke Earth, and overcome with heat and thirst, could say no more.\nThen Jupiter omnipotent, calling to witness all the gods, including him\nwho had lent the chariot, and showing them that all was lost unless\nsome speedy remedy were applied, mounted the lofty tower from whence he\ndiffuses clouds over the earth, and hurls the forked lightnings. But at\nthat time not a cloud was to be found to interpose for a screen to earth,\nnor was a shower remaining unexhausted. He thundered, and brandishing a\nlightning bolt in his right hand launched it against the charioteer, and\nstruck him at the same moment from his seat and from existence! Pha\u00ebton,\nwith his hair on fire, fell headlong, like a shooting star which marks\nthe heavens with its brightness as it falls, and Eridanus, the great\nriver, received him and cooled his burning frame.\n\n\n\n\nBAUCIS AND PHILEMON, WHO WERE CHANGED INTO TWO TREES\n\nBy Thomas Bulfinch\n\n\nOn a certain hill in Phrygia stands a linden tree and an oak, enclosed\nby a low wall. Not far from the spot is a marsh, formerly good habitable\nland, but now indented with pools, the resort of fen-birds and\ncormorants. Once on a time Jupiter, in human shape, visited this country,\nand with him his son Mercury, without his wings.\n\nThey presented themselves, as weary travellers, at many a door, seeking\nrest and shelter, but found all closed, for it was late, and the\ninhospitable inhabitants would not rouse themselves to open for their\nreception.\n\nAt last a humble mansion received them, a small thatched cottage,\nwhere Baucis, a pious old dame, and her husband Philemon had grown\nold together. Not ashamed of their poverty, they made it endurable by\nmoderate desires and kind dispositions. One need not look there for\nmaster or for servant; they two were the whole household, master and\nservant alike.\n\nWhen the two heavenly guests crossed the humble threshold, and bowed\ntheir heads to pass under the low door, the old man placed a seat, on\nwhich Baucis, bustling and attentive, spread a cloth, and begged them\nto sit down. Then she raked out the coals from the ashes and kindled up\na fire, fed it with leaves and dry bark, and with her scanty breath\nblew it into a flame. She brought out of a corner split sticks and dry\nbranches, broke them up, and placed them under the small kettle. Her\nhusband collected some pot-herbs in the garden and she shred them from\nthe stalks and prepared them for the pot. He reached down with a forked\nstick a flitch of bacon hanging in the chimney, cut a small piece, and\nput it in the pot to boil with the herbs, setting away the rest for\nanother time. A beechen bowl was filled with warm water, that their\nguests might wash. While all was doing, they beguiled the time with\nconversation.\n\nOn the bench designed for the guests was laid a cushion stuffed with\nseaweed; and a cloth, only produced on great occasions, but ancient and\ncoarse enough, was spread over that. The old lady, with her apron on,\nwith trembling hand set the table. One leg was shorter than the rest, but\na piece of slate put under restored the level. When fixed, she rubbed the\ntable down with some sweet-smelling herbs. Upon it she set some olives,\nsome berries preserved in vinegar, and added radishes and cheese, with\neggs lightly cooked in the ashes. All were served in earthen dishes, and\nan earthenware pitcher, with wooden cups, stood beside them. When all was\nready, the stew, smoking hot, was set on the table. Some wine, not of the\noldest, was added; and for dessert, apples and wild honey; and over and\nabove all, friendly faces, and simple but hearty welcome.\n\nNow while the repast proceeded, the old folks were astonished to see that\nthe wine, as fast as it was poured out, renewed itself in the pitcher,\nof its own accord.\n\nStruck with terror, Baucis and Philemon recognized their heavenly guests,\nfell on their knees, and with clasped hands implored forgiveness for\ntheir poor entertainment.\n\nThere was an old goose, which they kept as the guardian of their humble\ncottage; and they bethought them to make this a sacrifice in honor of\ntheir guests. But the goose, too nimble, with the aid of feet and wings,\nfor the old folks, eluded their pursuit, and at last took shelter between\nthe gods themselves.\n\nThey forbade it to be slain; and spoke in these words: \u201cWe are gods. This\ninhospitable village shall pay the penalty of its impiety; you alone\nshall go free from the chastisement. Quit your house, and come with us to\nthe top of yonder hill.\u201d\n\nThey hastened to obey, and, staff in hand, labored up the steep ascent.\nThey had reached to within an arrow\u2019s flight of the top, when turning\ntheir eyes below, they beheld all the country sunk in a lake, only their\nown house left standing.\n\nWhile they gazed with wonder at the sight, and lamented the fate of their\nneighbors, that old house of theirs was changed into a _temple_. Columns\ntook the place of the corner posts, the thatch grew yellow and appeared\na gilded roof, the floors became marble, the doors were enriched with\ncarving and ornaments of gold.\n\nThen spoke Jupiter in benignant accents: \u201cExcellent old man, and woman\nworthy of such a husband, speak, tell us your wishes; what favor have\nyou to ask of us?\u201d\n\nPhilemon took counsel with Baucis a few moments; then declared to the\ngods their united wish: \u201cWe ask to be priests and guardians of this your\ntemple; and since here we have passed our lives in love and concord, we\nwish that one and the same hour may take us both from life, that I may\nnot live to see her grave, nor be laid in my own by her.\u201d Their prayer\nwas granted. They were the keepers of the temple as long as they lived.\n\nWhen grown very old, as they stood one day before the steps of the sacred\nedifice, and were telling the story of the place, Baucis saw Philemon\nbegin to put forth leaves, and old Philemon saw Baucis changing in like\nmanner. And now a leafy crown had grown over their heads while exchanging\nparting words, as long as they could speak. \u201cFarewell, dear spouse,\u201d they\nsaid, together, and at the same moment the bark closed over their mouths.\nThe Tyanean shepherd still shows the two trees, standing side by side,\nmade out of the two good old people.\n\n\n\n\nTHE PARADISE OF CHILDREN\n\nBy Nathaniel Hawthorne\n\n\nLong, long ago, when this old world was in its tender infancy, there was\na child, named Epimetheus, who never had either father or mother; and,\nthat he might not be lonely, another child, fatherless and motherless\nlike himself, was sent from a far country to live with him, and be his\nplayfellow and helpmate. Her name was Pandora.\n\nThe first thing that Pandora saw when she entered the cottage where\nEpimetheus dwelt was a great box. And almost the first question which she\nput to him after crossing the threshold was this: \u201cEpimetheus, what have\nyou in that box?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear little Pandora,\u201d answered Epimetheus, \u201cthat is a secret, and you\nmust be kind enough not to ask any questions about it. The box was left\nhere to be kept safely, and I do not myself know what it contains.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut who gave it to you?\u201d asked Pandora. \u201cAnd where did it come from?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is a secret, too,\u201d replied Epimetheus.\n\n\u201cHow provoking!\u201d exclaimed Pandora, pouting her lip. \u201cI wish the great\nugly box were out of the way!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, come, don\u2019t think of it any more,\u201d cried Epimetheus. \u201cLet us run out\nof doors and have some nice play with the other children.\u201d\n\nIt is thousands of years since Epimetheus and Pandora were alive; and\nthe world nowadays is a very different sort of thing from what it was\nin their time. Then everybody was a child. There needed no fathers and\nmothers to take care of the children, because there was no danger nor\ntrouble of any kind, and no clothes to be mended, and there was always\nplenty to eat and drink. Whenever a child wanted his dinner he found it\ngrowing on a tree; and, if he looked at the tree in the morning, he could\nsee the expanding blossom of that night\u2019s supper; or, at eventide, he\nsaw the tender bud of to-morrow\u2019s breakfast. It was a very pleasant life\nindeed. No labor to be done, no tasks to be studied; nothing but sports\nand dances, and sweet voices of children talking, or carolling like\nbirds, or gushing out in merry laughter throughout the livelong day.\n\nWhat was most wonderful of all, the children never quarrelled among\nthemselves; neither had they any crying fits; nor, since time first\nbegan, had a single one of these little mortals ever gone apart into a\ncorner, and sulked. Oh, what a good time was that to be alive in! The\ntruth is, those ugly little winged monsters, called Troubles, which are\nnow almost as numerous as mosquitoes, had never yet been seen on the\nearth. It is probable that the very greatest disquietude which a child\nhad ever experienced was Pandora\u2019s vexation at not being able to discover\nthe secret of the mysterious box.\n\nThis was at first only the faint shadow of a Trouble; but, every day, it\ngrew more and more substantial, until, before a great while, the cottage\nof Epimetheus and Pandora was less sunshiny than those of the other\nchildren.\n\n\u201cWhence can the box have come?\u201d Pandora continually kept saying to\nherself and to Epimetheus. \u201cAnd what in the world can be inside of it?\u201d\n\n\u201cAlways talking about this box!\u201d said Epimetheus, at last; for he had\ngrown extremely tired of the subject. \u201cI wish, dear Pandora, you would\ntry to talk of something else. Come, let us go and gather some ripe figs,\nand eat them under the trees, for our supper. And I know a vine that has\nthe sweetest and juiciest grapes you ever tasted.\u201d\n\n\u201cAlways talking about grapes and figs!\u201d cried Pandora, pettishly.\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d said Epimetheus, who was a very good-tempered child, like\na multitude of children in those days, \u201clet us run out and have a merry\ntime with our playmates.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am tired of merry times, and don\u2019t care if I never have any more!\u201d\nanswered our pettish little Pandora. \u201cAnd, besides, I never do have any.\nThis ugly box! I am so taken up with thinking about it all the time. I\ninsist upon your telling me what is inside of it.\u201d\n\n\u201cAs I have already said, fifty times over, I do not know!\u201d replied\nEpimetheus, getting a little vexed. \u201cHow, then, can I tell you what is\ninside?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou might open it,\u201d said Pandora, looking sideways at Epimetheus, \u201cand\nthen we could see for ourselves.\u201d\n\n\u201cPandora, what are you thinking of?\u201d exclaimed Epimetheus.\n\nAnd his face expressed so much horror at the idea of looking into a box,\nwhich had been confided to him on the condition of his never opening it,\nthat Pandora thought it best not to suggest it any more. Still, however,\nshe could not help thinking and talking about the box. \u201cAt least,\u201d said\nshe, \u201cyou can tell me how it came here.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt was left at the door,\u201d replied Epimetheus, \u201cjust before you came, by\na person who looked very smiling and intelligent, and who could hardly\nforbear laughing as he put it down. He was dressed in an odd kind of a\ncloak, and had on a cap that seemed to be made partly of feathers, so\nthat it looked almost as if it had wings.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat sort of a staff had he?\u201d asked Pandora.\n\n\u201cOh, the most curious staff you ever saw!\u201d cried Epimetheus. \u201cIt was like\ntwo serpents twisting around a stick, and was carved so naturally that I,\nat first, thought the serpents were alive.\u201d\n\n\u201cI know him,\u201d said Pandora, thoughtfully. \u201cNobody else has such a staff.\nIt was Quicksilver;[3] and he brought me hither, as well as the box.\nNo doubt he intended it for me; and, most probably, it contains pretty\ndresses for me to wear, or toys for you and me to play with, or something\nvery nice for us both to eat!\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps so,\u201d answered Epimetheus, turning away. \u201cBut until Quicksilver\ncomes back and tells us so, we have neither of us any right to lift the\nlid of the box.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat a dull boy he is!\u201d muttered Pandora, as Epimetheus left the\ncottage. \u201cI do wish he had a little more enterprise!\u201d\n\nFor the first time since her arrival, Epimetheus had gone out without\nasking Pandora to accompany him. He went to gather figs and grapes by\nhimself, or to seek whatever amusement he could find, in other society\nthan his little playfellow\u2019s. He was tired to death of hearing about\nthe box, and heartily wished that Quicksilver, or whatever was the\nmessenger\u2019s name, had left it at some other child\u2019s door, where Pandora\nwould never have set eyes on it. So perseveringly as she did babble\nabout this one thing! The box, the box, and nothing but the box! It\nseemed as if the box were bewitched, and as if the cottage were not big\nenough to hold it, without Pandora\u2019s continually stumbling over it, and\nmaking Epimetheus stumble over it likewise, and bruising all four of\ntheir shins.\n\nWell, it was really hard that poor Epimetheus should have a box in his\nears from morning till night; especially as the little people of the\nearth were so unaccustomed to vexations, in those happy days, that they\nknew not how to deal with them. Thus, a small vexation made as much\ndisturbance then, as a far bigger one would in our own times.\n\nAfter Epimetheus was gone, Pandora stood gazing at the box. She had\ncalled it ugly, above a hundred times; but, in spite of all that she\nhad said against it, it was positively a very handsome article of\nfurniture, and would have been quite an ornament to any room in which\nit should be placed. It was made of a beautiful kind of wood, with dark\nand rich veins spreading over its surface, which was so highly polished\nthat little Pandora could see her face in it. As the child had no other\nlooking-glass, it is odd that she did not value the box, merely on this\naccount.\n\nThe edges and corners of the box were carved with most wonderful skill.\nAround the margin there were figures of graceful men and women, and the\nprettiest children ever seen, reclining or sporting amid a profusion\nof flowers and foliage; and these various objects were so exquisitely\nrepresented, and were wrought together in such harmony, that flowers,\nfoliage, and human beings seemed to combine into a wreath of mingled\nbeauty. But here and there, peeping forth from behind the carved foliage,\nPandora once or twice fancied that she saw a face not so lovely, or\nsomething or other that was disagreeable, and which stole the beauty out\nof all the rest. Nevertheless on looking more closely, and touching the\nspot with her finger, she could discover nothing of the kind. Some face,\nthat was really beautiful, had been made to look ugly by her catching a\nsideway glimpse at it.\n\nThe most beautiful face of all was done in what is called high relief,\nin the center of the lid. There was nothing else, save the dark, smooth\nrichness of the polished wood, and this one face in the center with a\ngarland of flowers about its brow. Pandora had looked at this face a\ngreat many times, and imagined that the mouth could smile if it liked,\nor be grave when it chose, the same as any living mouth. The features,\nindeed, all wore a very lively and rather mischievous expression, which\nlooked almost as if it needs must burst out of the carved lips, and utter\nitself in words.\n\nHad the mouth spoken, it would probably have been something like this:\n\u201cDo not be afraid, Pandora! What harm can there be in opening the box?\nNever mind that poor, simple Epimetheus! You are wiser than he, and\nhave ten times as much spirit. Open the box, and see if you do not find\nsomething very pretty!\u201d\n\nThe box, I had almost forgotten to say, was fastened; not by a lock, nor\nby any other such contrivance, but by a very intricate knot of gold cord.\nThere appeared to be no end to this knot, and no beginning. Never was a\nknot so cunningly twisted, nor with so many ins and outs, which roguishly\ndefied the skilfullest fingers to disentangle them. And yet, by the very\ndifficulty that there was in it, Pandora was the more tempted to examine\nthe knot, and just see how it was made. Two or three times, already,\nshe had stooped over the box, and taken the knot between her thumb and\nforefinger, but without positively trying to undo it.\n\n\u201cI really believe,\u201d said she to herself, \u201cthat I begin to see how it was\ndone. Nay, perhaps I could tie it up again, after undoing it. There would\nbe no harm in that, surely. Even Epimetheus would not blame me for that.\nI need not open the box, and should not, of course, without the foolish\nboy\u2019s consent, even if the knot were untied.\u201d\n\nIt might have been better for Pandora if she had had a little work to\ndo, or anything to employ her mind upon, so as not to be so constantly\nthinking of this one subject. But children led so easy a life, before\nany Troubles came into the world, that they had really a great deal too\nmuch leisure. They could not be forever playing at hide-and-seek among\nthe flower-shrubs, or at blind-man\u2019s-buff with garlands over their eyes,\nor at whatever other games had been found out, while Mother Earth was\nin her babyhood. When life is all sport, toil is the real play. There\nwas absolutely nothing to do. A little sweeping and dusting about the\ncottage, I suppose, and the gathering of fresh flowers (which were only\ntoo abundant everywhere), and arranging them in vases\u2014and poor little\nPandora\u2019s day\u2019s work was over. And then, for the rest of the day, there\nwas the box!\n\nAfter all, I am not quite sure that the box was not a blessing to her\nin its way. It supplied her with such a variety of ideas to think of,\nand to talk about, whenever she had anybody to listen! When she was in\ngood humor, she could admire the bright polish of its sides, and the\nrich border of beautiful faces and foliage that ran all around it. Or,\nif she chanced to be ill-tempered, she could give it a push, or kick it\nwith her naughty little foot. And many a kick did the box\u2014(but it was a\nmischievous box, as we shall see, and deserved all it got)\u2014many a kick\ndid it receive. But, certain it is, if it had not been for the box, our\nactive-minded little Pandora would not have known half so well how to\nspend her time as she now did.\n\nFor it was really an endless employment to guess what was inside. What\ncould it be, indeed? Just imagine, my little hearers, how busy your\nwits would be, if there were a great box in the house, which, as you\nmight have reason to suppose, contained something new and pretty for\nyour Christmas or New Year\u2019s gifts. Do you think that you should be less\ncurious than Pandora? If you were left alone with the box, might you\nnot feel a little tempted to lift the lid? But you would not do it. Oh,\nfie! No, no! Only, if you thought there were toys in it, it would be so\nvery hard to let slip an opportunity of taking just one peep! I know not\nwhether Pandora expected any toys; for none had yet begun to be made,\nprobably, in those days, when the world itself was one great plaything\nfor the children that dwelt upon it. But Pandora was convinced that\nthere was something very beautiful and valuable in the box; and therefore\nshe felt just as anxious to take a peep as any of these little girls,\nhere around me, would have felt. And, possibly, a little more so; but of\nthat I am not quite so certain.\n\nOn this particular day, however, which we have so long been talking\nabout, her curiosity grew so much greater than it usually was, that, at\nlast, she approached the box. She was more than half determined to open\nit, if she could. Ah, naughty Pandora!\n\nFirst, however, she tried to lift it. It was heavy; quite too heavy\nfor the slender strength of a child, like Pandora. She raised one end\nof the box a few inches from the floor, and let it fall again, with a\npretty loud thump. A moment afterwards, she almost fancied that she\nheard something stir inside of the box. She applied her ear as closely\nas possible, and listened. Positively, there did seem to be a kind of\nstifled murmur within! Or was it merely the singing in Pandora\u2019s ears? Or\ncould it be the beating of her heart? The child could not quite satisfy\nherself whether she had heard anything or no. But, at all events, her\ncuriosity was stronger than ever.\n\nAs she drew back her head, her eyes fell upon the knot of gold cord.\n\n\u201cIt must have been a very ingenious person who tied this knot,\u201d said\nPandora to herself. \u201cBut I think I could untie it nevertheless. I am\nresolved, at least, to find the two ends of the cord.\u201d\n\nSo she took the golden knot in her fingers, and pried into its\nintricacies as sharply as she could. Almost without intending it,\nor quite knowing what she was about, she was soon busily engaged in\nattempting to undo it. Meanwhile, the bright sunshine came through the\nopen window; as did likewise the merry voices of the children, playing\nat a distance, and perhaps the voice of Epimetheus among them. Pandora\nstopped to listen. What a beautiful day it was! Would it not be wiser, if\nshe were to let the troublesome knot alone, and think no more about the\nbox, but run and join her little playfellows, and be happy?\n\nAll this time, however, her fingers were half unconsciously busy with the\nknot; and happening to glance at the flower-wreathed face on the lid of\nthe enchanted box, she seemed to perceive it slyly grinning at her.\n\n\u201cThat face looks very mischievous,\u201d thought Pandora. \u201cI wonder whether it\nsmiles because I am doing wrong! I have the greatest mind in the world to\nrun away!\u201d\n\nBut just then, by the merest accident, she gave the knot a kind of a\ntwist, which produced a wonderful result. The gold cord untwined itself\nas if by magic, and left the box without a fastening.\n\n\u201cThis is the strangest thing I ever knew!\u201d said Pandora. \u201cWhat will\nEpimetheus say? And how can I possibly tie it up again?\u201d\n\nShe made one or two attempts to restore the knot, but soon found it\nquite beyond her skill. It had disentangled itself so suddenly that she\ncould not in the least remember how the strings had been doubled into\none another; and when she tried to recollect the shape and appearance of\nthe knot, it seemed to have gone entirely out of her mind. Nothing was to\nbe done, therefore, but to let the box remain as it was until Epimetheus\nshould come in.\n\n\u201cBut,\u201d said Pandora, \u201cwhen he finds the knot untied, he will know that I\nhave done it. How shall I make him believe that I have not looked into\nthe box?\u201d\n\nAnd then the thought came into her naughty little heart, that, since\nshe would be suspected of having looked into the box, she might just\nas well do so at once. Oh, very naughty and very foolish Pandora! You\nshould have thought only of doing what was right, and of leaving undone\nwhat was wrong, and not of what your playfellow Epimetheus would have\nsaid or believed. And so perhaps she might, if the enchanted face on the\nlid of the box had not looked so bewitchingly persuasive at her, and if\nshe had not seemed to hear, more distinctly than before, the murmur of\nsmall voices within. She could not tell whether it was fancy or no; but\nthere was quite a little tumult of whispers in her ear\u2014or else it was her\ncuriosity that whispered\u2014\u201cLet us out, dear Pandora\u2014pray let us out! We\nwill be such nice pretty playfellows for you! Only let us out!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat can it be?\u201d thought Pandora. \u201cIs there something alive in the box?\nWell!\u2014yes!\u2014I am resolved to take just one peep! Only one peep; and then\nthe lid shall be shut down as safely as ever! There cannot possibly be\nany harm in just one little peep!\u201d\n\nBut it is now time for us to see what Epimetheus was doing.\n\nThis was the first time, since his little playmate had come to dwell with\nhim, that he had attempted to enjoy any pleasure in which she did not\npartake. But nothing went right; nor was he nearly so happy as on other\ndays. He could not find a sweet grape or a ripe fig (if Epimetheus had a\nfault, it was a little too much fondness for figs); or, if ripe at all,\nthey were overripe, and so sweet as to be cloying. There was no mirth in\nhis heart, such as usually made his voice gush out, of its own accord,\nand swell the merriment of his companions. In short, he grew so uneasy\nand discontented, that the other children could not imagine what was the\nmatter with Epimetheus. Neither did he himself know what ailed him, any\nbetter than they did. For you must recollect that, at the time we are\nspeaking of, it was everybody\u2019s nature, and constant habit, to be happy.\nThe world had not yet learned to be otherwise. Not a single soul or body,\nsince these children were first sent to enjoy themselves on the beautiful\nearth, had ever been sick or out of sorts.\n\nAt length, discovering that, somehow or other, he put a stop to all the\nplay, Epimetheus judged it best to go back to Pandora, who was in a humor\nbetter suited to his own. But, with a hope of giving her pleasure, he\ngathered some flowers, and made them into a wreath, which he meant to\nput upon her head. The flowers were very lovely\u2014roses, and lilies, and\norange-blossoms, and a great many more, which left a trail of fragrance\nbehind, as Epimetheus carried them along; and the wreath was put together\nwith as much skill as could reasonably be expected of a boy. The fingers\nof little girls, it has always appeared to me, are the fittest to twine\nflower-wreaths; but boys could do it, in those days, rather better than\nthey can now.\n\nAnd here I must mention that a great black cloud had been gathering in\nthe sky, for some time past, although it had not yet overspread the sun.\nBut, just as Epimetheus reached the cottage door, this cloud began to\nintercept the sunshine, and thus to make a sudden and sad obscurity.\n\nHe entered softly; for he meant, if possible, to steal behind Pandora,\nand fling the wreath of flowers over her head, before she should be aware\nof his approach. But, as it happened, there was no need of his treading\nso very lightly. He might have trod as heavily as he pleased\u2014as heavily\nas a grown man\u2014as heavily, I was going to say, as an elephant\u2014without\nmuch probability of Pandora\u2019s hearing his footsteps. She was too intent\nupon her purpose. At the moment of his entering the cottage, the naughty\nchild had put her hand to the lid, and was on the point of opening the\nmysterious box. Epimetheus beheld her. If he had cried out, Pandora would\nprobably have withdrawn her hand, and the fatal mystery of the box might\nnever have been known.\n\nBut Epimetheus himself, although he said very little about it, had his\nown share of curiosity to know what was inside. Perceiving that Pandora\nwas resolved to find out the secret, he determined that his playfellow\nshould not be the only wise person in the cottage. And if there were\nanything pretty or valuable in the box, he meant to take half of it to\nhimself. Thus, after all his sage speeches to Pandora about restraining\nher curiosity, Epimetheus turned out to be quite as foolish, and nearly\nas much in fault, as she. So, whenever we blame Pandora for what\nhappened, we must not forget to shake our heads at Epimetheus likewise.\n\nAs Pandora raised the lid, the cottage grew very dark and dismal; for\nthe black cloud had now swept quite over the sun, and seemed to have\nburied it alive. There had, for a little while past, been a low growling\nand muttering, which all at once broke into a heavy peal of thunder. But\nPandora, heeding nothing of all this, lifted the lid nearly upright, and\nlooked inside. It seemed as if a sudden swarm of winged creatures brushed\npast her, taking flight out of the box, while, at the same instant, she\nheard the voice of Epimetheus, with a lamentable tone, as if he were in\npain.\n\n\u201cOh, I am stung!\u201d cried he. \u201cI am stung! Naughty Pandora! why have you\nopened this wicked box?\u201d\n\nPandora let fall the lid, and, starting up, looked about her, to see\nwhat had befallen Epimetheus. The thunder-cloud had so darkened the\nroom that she could not very clearly discern what was in it. But she\nheard a disagreeable buzzing, as if a great many huge flies, or gigantic\nmosquitoes, or those insects which we call dor-bugs, and pinching-dogs,\nwere darting about. And, as her eyes grew more accustomed to the\nimperfect light, she saw a crowd of ugly little shapes, with bats\u2019\nwings, looking abominably spiteful, and armed with terribly long stings\nin their tails. It was one of these that had stung Epimetheus. Nor was it\na great while before Pandora herself began to scream, in no less pain and\naffright than her playfellow, and making a vast deal more hubbub about\nit. An odious little monster had settled on her forehead, and would have\nstung her I know not how deeply, if Epimetheus had not run and brushed it\naway.\n\nNow, if you wish to know what these ugly things might be, which had\nmade their escape out of the box, I must tell you that they were the\nwhole family of earthly Troubles. There were evil Passions; there were\na great many species of Cares; there were more than a hundred and fifty\nSorrows; there were Diseases, in a vast number of miserable and painful\nshapes; there were more kinds of Naughtiness than it would be of any use\nto talk about. In short, everything that has since afflicted the souls\nand bodies of mankind had been shut up in the mysterious box, and given\nto Epimetheus and Pandora to be kept safely, in order that the happy\nchildren of the world might never be molested by them. Had they been\nfaithful to their trust, all would have gone well. No grown person would\never have been sad, nor any child have had cause to shed a single tear,\nfrom that hour until this moment.\n\nBut\u2014and you may see by this how a wrong act of any one mortal is a\ncalamity to the whole world\u2014by Pandora\u2019s lifting the lid of that\nmiserable box, and by the fault of Epimetheus, too, in not preventing\nher, these Troubles have obtained a foothold among us, and do not seem\nvery likely to be driven away in a hurry. For it was impossible, as you\nwill easily guess, that the two children should keep the ugly swarm in\ntheir own little cottage. On the contrary, the first thing that they\ndid was to fling open the doors and windows, in hopes of getting rid of\nthem; and, sure enough, away flew the winged Troubles all abroad, and\nso pestered and tormented the small people, everywhere about, that none\nof them so much as smiled for many days afterwards. And, what was very\nsingular, all the flowers and dewy blossoms on earth, not one of which\nhad hitherto faded, now began to droop and shed their leaves, after a\nday or two. The children, moreover, who before seemed immortal in the\nchildhood, now grew older, day by day, and came soon to be youths and\nmaidens, and men and women by and by, and aged people, before they\ndreamed of such a thing.\n\nMeanwhile, the naughty Pandora, and hardly less naughty Epimetheus,\nremained in their cottage. Both of them had been grievously stung, and\nwere in a good deal of pain, which seemed the more intolerable to them,\nbecause it was the very first pain that had ever been felt since the\nworld began. Of course, they were entirely unaccustomed to it, and could\nhave no idea what it meant. Besides all this, they were in exceedingly\nbad humor, both with themselves and with one another. In order to indulge\nit to the utmost, Epimetheus sat down sullenly in a corner with his back\ntowards Pandora; while Pandora flung herself upon the floor and rested\nher head on the fatal and abominable box. She was crying bitterly, and\nsobbing as if her heart would break.\n\nSuddenly there was a gentle little tap on the inside of the lid.\n\n\u201cWhat can that be?\u201d cried Pandora, lifting her head.\n\nBut either Epimetheus had not heard the tap, or was too much out of humor\nto notice it. At any rate, he made no answer.\n\n\u201cYou are very unkind,\u201d said Pandora, sobbing anew, \u201cnot to speak to me!\u201d\n\nAgain the tap! It sounded like the tiny knuckles of a fairy\u2019s hand,\nknocking lightly and playfully on the inside of the box.\n\n\u201cWho are you?\u201d asked Pandora, with a little of her former curiosity. \u201cWho\nare you, inside of this naughty box?\u201d\n\nA sweet little voice spoke from within\u2014\n\n\u201cOnly lift the lid, and you shall see.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, no,\u201d answered Pandora, again beginning to sob, \u201cI have had enough\nof lifting the lid! You are inside of the box, naughty creature, and\nthere you shall stay! There are plenty of your ugly brothers and sisters\nalready flying about the world. You need never think that I shall be so\nfoolish as to let you out!\u201d\n\nShe looked towards Epimetheus, as she spoke, perhaps expecting that he\nwould commend her for her wisdom. But the sullen boy only muttered that\nshe was wise a little too late.\n\n\u201cAh,\u201d said the sweet little voice again, \u201cyou had much better let me out.\nI am not like those naughty creatures that have stings in their tails.\nThey are no brothers and sisters of mine, as you would see at once, if\nyou were only to get a glimpse of me. Come, come, my pretty Pandora! I am\nsure you will let me out!\u201d\n\nAnd, indeed, there was a kind of cheerful witchery in the tone, that made\nit almost impossible to refuse anything which this little voice asked.\nPandora\u2019s heart had insensibly grown lighter, at every word that came\nfrom within the box. Epimetheus, too, though still in the corner, had\nturned half round, and seemed to be in rather better spirits than before.\n\n\u201cMy dear Epimetheus,\u201d cried Pandora, \u201chave you heard this little voice?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, to be sure I have,\u201d answered he, but in no very good humor as yet.\n\u201cAnd what of it?\u201d\n\n\u201cShall I lift the lid again?\u201d asked Pandora.\n\n\u201cJust as you please,\u201d said Epimetheus. \u201cYou have done so much mischief\nalready, that perhaps you may as well do a little more. One other\nTrouble, in such a swarm as you have set adrift about the world, can make\nno very great difference.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou might speak a little more kindly!\u201d murmured Pandora, wiping her eyes.\n\n\u201cAh, naughty boy!\u201d cried the little voice within the box, in an arch and\nlaughing tone. \u201cHe knows he is longing to see me. Come, my dear Pandora,\nlift up the lid. I am in a great hurry to comfort you. Only let me have\nsome fresh air, and you shall soon see that matters are not quite so\ndismal as you think them!\u201d\n\n\u201cEpimetheus,\u201d exclaimed Pandora, \u201ccome what may, I am resolved to open\nthe box!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd, as the lid seems very heavy,\u201d cried Epimetheus, running across the\nroom, \u201cI will help you!\u201d\n\nSo, with one consent, the two children again lifted the lid. Out flew a\nsunny and smiling little personage, and hovered about the room, throwing\na light wherever she went. Have you never made the sunshine dance into\ndark corners, by reflecting it from a bit of looking-glass? Well, so\nlooked the winged cheerfulness of this fairy-like stranger, amid the\ngloom of the cottage. She flew to Epimetheus, and laid the least touch\nof her finger on the inflamed spot where the Trouble had stung him, and\nimmediately the anguish of it was gone. Then she kissed Pandora on the\nforehead, and her hurt was cured likewise.\n\nAfter performing these good offices, the bright stranger fluttered\nsportively over the children\u2019s heads, and looked so sweetly at them, that\nthey both began to think it not so very much amiss to have opened the\nbox, since, otherwise, their cheery guest must have been kept a prisoner\namong those naughty imps with stings in their tails.\n\n\u201cPray, who are you, beautiful creature?\u201d inquired Pandora.\n\n\u201cI am to be called Hope!\u201d answered the sunshiny figure. \u201cAnd because I\nam such a cheery little body, I was packed into the box, to make amends\nto the human race for that swarm of ugly Troubles, which was destined to\nbe let loose among them. Never fear! we shall do pretty well in spite of\nthem all.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour wings are colored like the rainbow!\u201d exclaimed Pandora. \u201cHow very\nbeautiful!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, they are like the rainbow,\u201d said Hope, \u201cbecause, glad as my nature\nis, I am partly made of tears as well as smiles.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd will you stay with us,\u201d asked Epimetheus, \u201cforever and ever?\u201d\n\n\u201cAs long as you need me,\u201d said Hope, with her pleasant smile\u2014\u201cand that\nwill be as long as you live in the world\u2014I promise never to desert you.\nThere may come times and seasons, now and then, when you will think that\nI have utterly vanished. But again, and again, and again, when perhaps\nyou least dream of it, you shall see the glimmer of my wings on the\nceiling of your cottage. Yes, my dear children, and I know something very\ngood and beautiful that is to be given you hereafter!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh tell us,\u201d they exclaimed\u2014\u201ctell us what it is!\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not ask me,\u201d replied Hope, putting her finger on her rosy mouth. \u201cBut\ndo not despair, even if it should never happen while you live on this\nearth. Trust in my promise, for it is true.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe do trust you!\u201d cried Epimetheus and Pandora, both in one breath.\n\nAnd so they did; and not only they, but so has everybody trusted Hope,\nthat has since been alive. And to tell you the truth, I cannot help being\nglad\u2014(though, to be sure, it was an uncommonly naughty thing for her to\ndo)\u2014but I cannot help being glad that our foolish Pandora peeped into the\nbox. No doubt\u2014no doubt\u2014the Troubles are still flying about the world, and\nhave increased in multitude, rather than lessened, and are a very ugly\nset of imps, and carry most venomous stings in their tails. I have felt\nthem already, and expect to feel them more, as I grow older. But then\nthat lovely and lightsome little figure of Hope! What in the world could\nwe do without her? Hope spiritualizes the earth; Hope makes it always\nnew; and, even in the earth\u2019s best and brightest aspect, Hope shows it to\nbe only the shadow of an infinite bliss hereafter!\n\n [3] Hawthorne\u2019s name for Mercury.\n\n\n\n\nRIP VAN WINKLE\n\nBy Washington Irving\n\n\nWhoever has made a voyage up the Hudson must remember the Kaatskill\nmountains. They are a dismembered branch of the great Appalachian family,\nand are seen away to the west of the river, swelling up to a noble\nheight, and lording it over the surrounding country. Every change of\nseason, every change of weather, indeed, every hour of the day, produces\nsome change in the magical hues and shapes of these mountains, and they\nare regarded by all the good wives, far and near, as perfect barometers.\nWhen the weather is fair and settled, they are clothed in blue and\npurple, and print their bold outlines on the clear evening sky; but,\nsometimes, when the rest of the landscape is cloudless, they will gather\na hood of gray vapors about their summits, which, in the last rays of the\nsetting sun, will glow and light up like a crown of glory.\n\nAt the foot of these fairy mountains, the voyager may have descried the\nlight smoke curling up from a village, whose shingle-roofs gleam among\nthe trees, just where the blue tints of the upland melt away into the\nfresh green of the nearer landscape. It is a little village of great\nantiquity, having been founded by some of the Dutch colonists, in the\nearly times of the province, just about the beginning of the government\nof the good Peter Stuyvesant (may he rest in peace!), and there were some\nof the houses of the original settlers standing within a few years, built\nof small yellow bricks brought from Holland, having latticed windows and\ngable fronts, surmounted with weather-cocks.\n\nIn that same village, and in one of these very houses (which, to tell\nthe precise truth, was sadly time-worn and weather-beaten), there lived\nmany years since, while the country was yet a province of Great Britain,\na simple good-natured fellow of the name of Rip Van Winkle. He was a\ndescendant of the Van Winkles who figured so gallantly in the chivalrous\ndays of Peter Stuyvesant, and accompanied him to the siege of Fort\nChristina. He inherited, however, but little of the martial character of\nhis ancestors. I have observed that he was a simple, good-natured man;\nhe was, moreover, a kind neighbor, and an obedient, hen-pecked husband.\nIndeed, to the latter circumstance might be owing that meekness of spirit\nwhich gained him such universal popularity; for those men are most apt\nto be obsequious and conciliating abroad, who are under the discipline\nof shrews at home. Their tempers, doubtless, are rendered pliant and\nmalleable in the fiery furnace of domestic tribulation; and a curtain\nlecture is worth all the sermons in the world for teaching the virtues\nof patience and long-suffering. A termagant wife may, therefore, in some\nrespects, be considered a tolerable blessing; and if so, Rip Van Winkle\nwas thrice blessed.\n\nCertain it is, that he was a great favorite among all the good wives of\nthe village, who, as usual, with the amiable sex, took his part in all\nfamily squabbles; and never failed, whenever they talked those matters\nover in their evening gossipings, to lay all the blame on Dame Van\nWinkle. The children of the village, too, would shout with joy whenever\nhe approached. He assisted at their sports, made their playthings, taught\nthem to fly kites and shoot marbles, and told them long stories of\nghosts, witches, and Indians. Whenever he went dodging about the village,\nhe was surrounded by a troop of them, hanging on his skirts, clambering\non his back, and playing a thousand tricks on him with impunity; and not\na dog would bark at him throughout the neighborhood.\n\nThe great error in Rip\u2019s composition was an insuperable aversion to all\nkinds of profitable labor. It could not be from the want of assiduity\nor perseverance; for he would sit on a wet rock, with a rod as long\nand heavy as a Tartar\u2019s lance, and fish all day without a murmur, even\nthough he should not be encouraged by a single nibble. He would carry a\nfowling-piece on his shoulder for hours together, trudging through woods\nand swamps, and up hill and down dale, to shoot a few squirrels or wild\npigeons. He would never refuse to assist a neighbor even in the roughest\ntoil, and was a foremost man at all country frolics for husking Indian\ncorn, or building stone fences; the women of the village, too, used to\nemploy him to run their errands, and to do such little odd jobs as their\nless obliging husbands would not do for them. In a word Rip was ready to\nattend to anybody\u2019s business but his own; but as to doing family duty,\nand keeping his farm in order, he found it impossible.\n\nIn fact, he declared it was of no use to work on his farm, it was the\nmost pestilent little piece of ground in the whole country; everything\nabout it went wrong, and would go wrong, in spite of him. His fences were\ncontinually falling to pieces; his cow would either go astray, or get\namong the cabbages; weeds were sure to grow quicker in his fields than\nanywhere else; the rain always made a point of setting in just as he\nhad some out-door work to do; so that though his patrimonial estate had\ndwindled away under his management, acre by acre, until there was little\nmore left than a mere patch of Indian corn and potatoes, yet it was the\nworst conditioned farm in the neighborhood.\n\nHis children, too, were as ragged and wild as if they belonged to nobody.\nHis son Rip, an urchin begotten in his own likeness, promised to inherit\nthe habits, with the old clothes of his father. He was generally seen\ntrooping like a colt at his mother\u2019s heels, equipped in a pair of his\nfather\u2019s cast-off galligaskins, which he had much ado to hold up with one\nhand, as a fine lady does her train in bad weather.\n\nRip Van Winkle, however, was one of those happy mortals, of foolish,\nwell-oiled dispositions, who take the world easy, eat white bread or\nbrown, whichever can be got with least thought or trouble, and would\nrather starve on a penny than work for a pound. If left to himself, he\nwould have whistled life away in perfect contentment; but his wife kept\ncontinually dinning in his ears about his idleness, his carelessness,\nand the ruin he was bringing on his family. Morning, noon, and night, her\ntongue was incessantly going, and everything he said or did was sure to\nproduce a torrent of household eloquence. Rip had but one way of replying\nto all lectures of the kind, and that, by frequent use, had grown into\na habit. He shrugged his shoulders, shook his head, cast up his eyes,\nbut said nothing. This, however, always provoked a fresh volley from his\nwife; so that he was fain to draw off his forces, and take to the outside\nof the house\u2014the only side which, in truth, belongs to a hen-pecked\nhusband.\n\nRip\u2019s sole domestic adherent was his dog Wolf, who was as much hen-pecked\nas his master; for Dame Van Winkle regarded them as companions in\nidleness, and even looked upon Wolf with an evil eye, as the cause of\nhis master\u2019s going so often astray. True it is, in all points of spirit\nbefitting an honorable dog, he was as courageous an animal as ever\nscoured the woods\u2014but what courage can withstand the ever-during and\nall-besetting terrors of a woman\u2019s tongue? The moment Wolf entered the\nhouse his crest fell, his tail drooped to the ground, or curled between\nhis legs, he sneaked about with a gallows air, casting many a sidelong\nglance at Dame Van Winkle, and at the least flourish of a broomstick or\nladle, he would fly to the door with yelping precipitation.\n\nTimes grew worse and worse with Rip Van Winkle as years of matrimony\nrolled on; a tart temper never mellows with age, and a sharp tongue is\nthe only edged tool that grows keener with constant use. For a long while\nhe used to console himself, when driven from home, by frequenting a kind\nof perpetual club of the sages, philosophers, and other idle personages\nof the village, which held its sessions on a bench before a small inn,\ndesignated by a rubicund portrait of his Majesty George the Third. Here\nthey used to sit in the shade through a long lazy summer\u2019s day, talking\nlistlessly over village gossip, or telling endless sleepy stories about\nnothing. But it would have been worth any statesman\u2019s money to have heard\nthe profound discussions that sometimes took place, when by chance an old\nnewspaper fell into their hands from some passing traveller. How solemnly\nthey would listen to the contents, as drawled out by Derrick Van Bummel,\nthe schoolmaster, a dapper, learned little man, who was not to be daunted\nby the most gigantic word in the dictionary; and how sagely they would\ndeliberate upon the public events some months after they had taken place.\n\nThe opinions of this junto were completely controlled by Nicholas\nVedder, a patriarch of the village, and landlord of the inn, at the\ndoor of which he took his seat from morning till night, just moving\nsufficiently to avoid the sun and keep in the shade of a large tree; so\nthat the neighbors could tell the hour by his movements as accurately\nas by a sun-dial. It is true he was rarely heard to speak, but smoked\nhis pipe incessantly. His adherents, however (for every great man has\nhis adherents), perfectly understood him, and knew how to gather his\nopinions. When anything that was read or related displeased him, he was\nobserved to smoke his pipe vehemently, and to send forth short, frequent\nand angry puffs; but when pleased, he would inhale the smoke slowly and\ntranquilly, and emit it in light and placid clouds; and sometimes, taking\nthe pipe from his mouth, and letting the fragrant vapor curl about his\nnose, would gravely nod his head in token of perfect approbation.\n\nFrom even this stronghold the unlucky Rip was at length routed by his\ntermagant wife, who would suddenly break in upon the tranquillity of\nthe assemblage and call the members all to naught; nor was that august\npersonage, Nicholas Vedder himself, sacred from the daring tongue of this\nterrible virago, who charged him outright with encouraging her husband in\nhabits of idleness.\n\nPoor Rip was at last reduced almost to despair; and his only alternative,\nto escape from the labor of the farm and clamor of his wife, was to take\ngun in hand and stroll away into the woods. Here he would sometimes seat\nhimself at the foot of a tree, and share the contents of his wallet with\nWolf, with whom he sympathized as a fellow-sufferer in persecution. \u201cPoor\nWolf,\u201d he would say, \u201cthy mistress leads thee a dog\u2019s life of it; but\nnever mind, my lad, whilst I live thou shalt never want a friend to stand\nby thee!\u201d Wolf would wag his tail, look wistfully in his master\u2019s face,\nand if dogs can feel pity I verily believe he reciprocated the sentiment\nwith all his heart.\n\n[Illustration: AS HE ENTERED THE VILLAGE, HE MET A NUMBER OF PEOPLE, NONE\nOF WHOM HE KNEW\u2014page 376\n\n_From the painting by Arthur Rackham_]\n\nIn a long ramble of the kind on a fine autumnal day, Rip had\nunconsciously scrambled to one of the highest parts of the Kaatskill\nmountains. He was after his favorite sport of squirrel shooting, and\nthe still solitudes had echoed and re-echoed with the reports of his\ngun. Panting and fatigued he threw himself, late in the afternoon, on a\ngreen knoll, covered with mountain herbage, that crowned the brow of a\nprecipice. From an opening between the trees he could overlook all the\nlower country for many a mile of rich woodland. He saw at a distance the\nlordly Hudson, far, far below him, moving on its silent but majestic\ncourse, with the reflection of a purple cloud, or the sail of a lagging\nbark, here and there sleeping on its glassy bosom, and at last losing\nitself in the blue highlands.\n\nOn the other side he looked down into a deep mountain glen, wild, lonely,\nand shagged, the bottom filled with fragments from the impending cliffs,\nand scarcely lighted by the reflected rays of the setting sun. For some\ntime Rip lay musing on this scene; evening was gradually advancing; the\nmountains began to throw their long blue shadows over the valleys; he\nsaw that it would be dark long before he could reach the village, and he\nheaved a heavy sigh when he thought of encountering the terrors of Dame\nVan Winkle.\n\nAs he was about to descend, he heard a voice from a distance, hallooing,\n\u201cRip Van Winkle! Rip Van Winkle!\u201d He looked round, but could see nothing\nbut a crow winging its solitary flight across the mountain. He thought\nhis fancy must have deceived him, and turned again to descend, when he\nheard the same cry ring through the still evening air: \u201cRip Van Winkle!\nRip Van Winkle!\u201d\u2014at the same time Wolf bristled up his back, and giving\na low growl, skulked to his master\u2019s side, looking fearfully down into\nthe glen. Rip now felt a vague apprehension stealing over him; he looked\nanxiously in the same direction, and perceived a strange figure slowly\ntoiling up the rocks, and bending under the weight of something he\ncarried on his back. He was surprised to see any human being in this\nlonely and unfrequented place, but supposing it to be some one of the\nneighborhood in need of his assistance, he hastened down to yield it.\n\nOn nearer approach he was still more surprised at the singularity of\nthe stranger\u2019s appearance. He was a short square-built old fellow, with\nthick bushy hair, and a grizzled beard. His dress was of the antique\nDutch fashion\u2014a cloth jerkin strapped round the waist\u2014several pair of\nbreeches, the outer one of ample volume, decorated with rows of buttons\ndown the sides, and bunches at the knees. He bore on his shoulder a stout\nkeg, that seemed full of liquor, and made signs for Rip to approach and\nassist him with the load. Though rather shy and distrustful of this\nnew acquaintance, Rip complied with his usual alacrity; and mutually\nrelieving one another, they clambered up a narrow gully, apparently the\ndry bed of a mountain torrent. As they ascended, Rip every now and then\nheard long rolling peals, like distant thunder, that seemed to issue out\nof a deep ravine, or rather cleft, between lofty rocks, toward which\ntheir rugged path conducted. He paused for an instant, but supposing\nit to be the muttering of one of those transient thunder-showers which\noften take place in mountain heights, he proceeded. Passing through the\nravine, they came to a hollow, like a small amphitheatre, surrounded by\nperpendicular precipices, over the brinks of which impending trees shot\ntheir branches, so that you only caught glimpses of the azure sky and the\nbright evening cloud. During the whole time Rip and his companion had\nlabored on in silence; for though the former marvelled greatly what could\nbe the object of carrying a keg of liquor up this wild mountain, yet\nthere was something strange and incomprehensible about the unknown, that\ninspired awe and checked familiarity.\n\nOn entering the amphitheatre, new objects of wonder presented themselves.\nOn a level spot in the center was a company of odd-looking personages\nplaying at ninepins. They were dressed in a quaint outlandish fashion;\nsome wore short doublets, others jerkins, with long knives in their\nbelts, and most of them had enormous breeches, of similar style with that\nof the guide\u2019s. Their visages, too, were peculiar: one had a large beard,\nbroad face, and small piggish eyes; the face of another seemed to consist\nentirely of nose, and was surmounted by a white sugar-loaf hat set off\nwith a little red cock\u2019s tail. They all had beards, of various shapes and\ncolors. There was one who seemed to be the commander. He was a stout old\ngentleman, with a weather-beaten countenance; he wore a laced doublet,\nbroad belt and hanger, high-crowned hat and feather, red stockings, and\nhigh-heeled shoes, with roses in them. The whole group reminded Rio of\nthe figures in an old Flemish painting, in the parlor of Dominie Van\nShaick, the village parson, and which had been brought over from Holland\nat the time of the settlement.\n\nWhat seemed particularly odd to Rip was, that though these folks were\nevidently amusing themselves, yet they maintained the gravest faces, the\nmost mysterious silence, and were, withal, the most melancholy party of\npleasure he had ever witnessed. Nothing interrupted the stillness of\nthe scene but the noise of the balls, which, whenever they were rolled,\nechoed along the mountains like rumbling peals of thunder.\n\nAs Rip and his companion approached them, they suddenly desisted from\ntheir play, and stared at him with such fixed statue-like gaze, and such\nstrange, uncouth, lack-luster countenances, that his heart turned within\nhim, and his knees smote together. His companion now emptied the contents\nof the keg into large flagons, and made signs to him to wait upon the\ncompany. He obeyed with fear and trembling; they quaffed the liquor in\nprofound silence, and then returned to their game.\n\nBy degrees Rip\u2019s awe and apprehension subsided. He even ventured, when no\neye was fixed upon him, to taste the beverage, which he found had much of\nthe flavor of excellent Hollands. He was naturally a thirsty soul, and\nwas soon tempted to repeat the draught. One taste provoked another; and\nhe reiterated his visits to the flagon so often that at length his senses\nwere overpowered, his eyes swam in his head, his head gradually declined,\nand he fell into a deep sleep.\n\nOn waking, he found himself on the green knoll whence he had first\nseen the old man of the glen. He rubbed his eyes\u2014it was a bright sunny\nmorning. The birds were hopping and twittering among the bushes, and\nthe eagle was wheeling aloft, and breasting the pure mountain breeze.\n\u201cSurely,\u201d thought Rip, \u201cI have not slept here all night.\u201d He recalled\nthe occurrences before he fell asleep. The strange man with a keg of\nliquor\u2014the mountain ravine\u2014the wild retreat among the rocks\u2014the woebegone\nparty at ninepins\u2014the flagon\u2014\u201cOh! that flagon! that wicked flagon!\u201d\nthought Rip\u2014\u201cwhat excuse shall I make to Dame Van Winkle!\u201d\n\nHe looked round for his gun, but in place of the clean well-oiled\nfowling-piece, he found an old firelock lying by him, the barrel\nincrusted with rust, the lock falling off, and the stock worm-eaten. He\nnow suspected that the grave roysters of the mountain had put a trick\nupon him, and, having dosed him with liquor, had robbed him of his gun.\nWolf, too, had disappeared, but he might have strayed away after a\nsquirrel or partridge. He whistled after him and shouted his name, but\nall in vain; the echoes repeated his whistle and shout, but no dog was to\nbe seen.\n\nHe determined to revisit the scene of the last evening\u2019s gambol, and if\nhe met with any of the party, to demand his dog and gun. As he rose to\nwalk, he found himself stiff in the joints, and wanting in his usual\nactivity. \u201cThese mountain beds do not agree with me,\u201d thought Rip, \u201cand\nif this frolic should lay me up with a fit of rheumatism, I shall have\na blessed time with Dame Van Winkle.\u201d With some difficulty he got down\ninto the glen: he found the gully up which he and his companion had\nascended the preceding evening; but to his astonishment a mountain stream\nwas now foaming down it, leaping from rock to rock, and filling the\nglen with babbling murmurs. He, however, made shift to scramble up its\nsides, working his toilsome way through thickets of birch, sassafras, and\nwitch-hazel, and sometimes tripped up or entangled by the wild grapevines\nthat twisted their coils or tendrils from tree to tree, and spread a kind\nof network in his path.\n\nAt length he reached to where the ravine had opened through the cliffs\nto the amphitheatre; but no traces of such opening remained. The rocks\npresented a high impenetrable wall, over which the torrent came tumbling\nin a sheet of feathery foam, and fell into a broad deep basin, black\nfrom the shadows of the surrounding forest. Here, then, poor Rip was\nbrought to a stand. He again called and whistled after his dog; he was\nonly answered by the cawing of a flock of idle crows, sporting high in\nair about a dry tree that overhung a sunny precipice; and who, secure\nin their elevation, seemed to look down and scoff at the poor man\u2019s\nperplexities. What was to be done? The morning was passing away, and Rip\nfelt famished for want of his breakfast. He grieved to give up his dog\nand gun; he dreaded to meet his wife; but it would not do to starve among\nthe mountains. He shook his head, shouldered the rusty firelock, and,\nwith a heart full of trouble and anxiety, turned his steps homeward.\n\nAs he approached the village he met a number of people, but none whom he\nknew, which somewhat surprised him, for he had thought himself acquainted\nwith every one in the country round. Their dress, too, was of a different\nfashion from that to which he was accustomed. They all stared at him with\nequal marks of surprise, and whenever they cast their eyes upon him,\ninvariably stroked their chins. The constant recurrence of this gesture\ninduced Rip, involuntarily, to do the same, when, to his astonishment, he\nfound his beard had grown a foot long!\n\nHe had now entered the skirts of the village. A troop of strange children\nran at his heels, hooting after him, and pointing at his gray beard. The\ndogs, too, not one of which he recognized for an old acquaintance, barked\nat him as he passed. The very village was altered; it was larger and more\npopulous. There were rows of houses which he had never seen before, and\nthose which had been his familiar haunts had disappeared. Strange names\nwere over the doors\u2014strange faces at the windows\u2014everything was strange.\nHis mind now misgave him; he began to doubt whether both he and the world\naround him were not bewitched. Surely this was his native village, which\nhe had left but the day before. There stood the Kaatskill mountains\u2014there\nran the silver Hudson at a distance\u2014there was every hill and dale\nprecisely as it had always been. Rip was sorely perplexed\u2014\u201cThat flagon\nlast night,\u201d thought he, \u201chas addled my poor head sadly!\u201d\n\nIt was with some difficulty that he found the way to his own house,\nwhich he approached with silent awe, expecting every moment to hear the\nshrill voice of Dame Van Winkle. He found the house gone to decay\u2014the\nroof fallen in, the windows shattered, and the doors off the hinges. A\nhalf-starved dog that looked like Wolf was skulking about it. Rip called\nhim by name, but the cur snarled, showed his teeth, and passed on. This\nwas an unkind cut indeed\u2014\u201cMy very dog,\u201d sighed poor Rip, \u201chas forgotten\nme!\u201d\n\nHe entered the house, which, to tell the truth, Dame Van Winkle had\nalways kept in neat order. It was empty, forlorn, and apparently\nabandoned. This desolateness overcame all his connubial fears\u2014he called\nloudly for his wife and children\u2014the lonely chambers rang for a moment\nwith his voice, and then all again was silence.\n\nHe now hurried forth, and hastened to his old resort, the village inn\u2014but\nit too was gone. A large rickety wooden building stood in its place,\nwith great gaping windows, some of them broken and mended with old hats\nand petticoats, and over the door was painted, \u201cthe Union Hotel, by\nJonathan Doolittle.\u201d Instead of the great tree that used to shelter the\nquiet little Dutch inn of yore, there now was reared a tall naked pole,\nwith something on the top that looked like a red night-cap, and from it\nwas fluttering a flag, on which was a singular assemblage of stars and\nstripes\u2014all this was strange and incomprehensible. He recognized on the\nsign, however, the ruby face of King George, under which he had smoked\nso many a peaceful pipe; but even this was singularly metamorphosed. The\nred coat was changed for one of blue and buff, a sword was held in the\nhand instead of a scepter, the head was decorated with a cocked hat, and\nunderneath was painted in large characters, GENERAL WASHINGTON.\n\nThere was, as usual, a crowd of folk about the door, but none that\nRip recollected. The very character of the people seemed changed.\nThere was a busy, bustling, disputatious tone about it, instead of the\naccustomed phlegm and drowsy tranquillity. He looked in vain for the\nsage Nicholas Vedder, with his broad face, double chin, and fair long\npipe, uttering clouds of tobacco-smoke instead of idle speeches; or\nVan Bummel, the schoolmaster, doling forth the contents of an ancient\nnewspaper. In place of these, a lean, bilious-looking fellow, with his\npockets full of handbills, was haranguing vehemently about rights of\ncitizens\u2014elections\u2014members of Congress\u2014liberty\u2014Bunker\u2019s Hill\u2014heroes of\nseventy-six\u2014and other words, which were a perfect Babylonish jargon to\nthe bewildered Van Winkle.\n\nThe appearance of Rip, with his long, grizzled beard, his rusty\nfowling-piece, his uncouth dress, and an army of women and children at\nhis heels, soon attracted the attention of the tavern politicians. They\ncrowded round him, eyeing him from head to foot with great curiosity. The\norator bustled up to him, and, drawing him partly aside, inquired \u201con\nwhich side he voted?\u201d Rip stared in vacant stupidity. Another short but\nbusy little fellow pulled him by the arm, and, rising on tiptoe, inquired\nin his ear, \u201cwhether he was Federal or Democrat?\u201d Rip was equally at a\nloss to comprehend the question; when a knowing, self-important old\ngentleman, in a sharp cocked hat, made his way through the crowd, putting\nthem to the right and left with his elbows as he passed, and planting\nhimself before Van Winkle, with one arm akimbo, the other resting on his\ncane, his keen eyes and sharp hat penetrating, as it were, into his very\nsoul, demanded in an austere tone, \u201cwhat brought him to the election\nwith a gun on his shoulder, and a mob at his heels, and whether he meant\nto breed a riot in the village?\u201d\u2014\u201cAlas! gentlemen,\u201d cried Rip, somewhat\ndismayed, \u201cI am a poor quiet man, a native of the place, and a loyal\nsubject of the king, God bless him!\u201d\n\nHere a general shout burst from the bystanders: \u201cA tory! a tory! a spy!\na refugee! hustle him! away with him!\u201d It was with great difficulty that\nthe self-important man in the cocked hat restored order; and, having\nassumed a tenfold austerity of brow, demanded again of the unknown\nculprit, what he came there for, and whom he was seeking? The poor man\nhumbly assured him that he meant no harm, but merely came there in search\nof some of his neighbors, who used to keep about the tavern.\n\n\u201cWell\u2014who are they?\u2014name them.\u201d\n\nRip bethought himself a moment, and inquired, \u201cWhere\u2019s Nicholas Vedder?\u201d\n\nThere was a silence for a little while, when an old man replied in a thin\npiping voice, \u201cNicholas Vedder! why, he is dead and gone these eighteen\nyears! There was a wooden tombstone in the churchyard that used to tell\nall about him, but that\u2019s rotten and gone too.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere\u2019s Brom Dutcher?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, he went off to the army in the beginning of the war; some say he\nwas killed at the storming of Stony Point\u2014others say he was drowned in\na squall at the foot of Anthony Nose. I don\u2019t know\u2014he never came back\nagain.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere\u2019s Van Bummel, the schoolmaster?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe went off to the wars too, was a great militia general, and is now in\nCongress.\u201d\n\nRip\u2019s heart died away at hearing of these sad changes in his home and\nfriends, and finding himself thus alone in the world. Every answer\npuzzled him too, by treating of such enormous lapses of time, and of\nmatters which he could not understand: war\u2014congress\u2014Stony Point\u2014he had no\ncourage to ask after any more friends, but cried out in despair, \u201cDoes\nnobody here know Rip Van Winkle?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, Rip Van Winkle!\u201d exclaimed two or three. \u201cOh, to be sure! that\u2019s Rip\nVan Winkle yonder, leaning against the tree.\u201d\n\nRip looked, and beheld a precise counterpart of himself, as he went up\nthe mountain: apparently as lazy, and certainly as ragged. The poor\nfellow was now completely confounded. He doubted his own identity, and\nwhether he was himself or another man. In the midst of his bewilderment,\nthe man in the cocked hat demanded who he was, and what was his name?\n\n\u201cGod knows,\u201d exclaimed he, at his wits\u2019 end; \u201cI\u2019m not myself\u2014I\u2019m somebody\nelse\u2014that\u2019s me yonder\u2014no\u2014that\u2019s somebody else got into my shoes\u2014I was\nmyself last night, but I fell asleep on the mountain, and they\u2019ve\nchanged my gun, and everything\u2019s changed, and I\u2019m changed and I can\u2019t\ntell my name, or who I am!\u201d\n\nThe bystanders began now to look at each other, nod, wink significantly,\nand tap their fingers against their foreheads. There was a whisper, also,\nabout securing the gun, and keeping the old fellow from doing mischief,\nat the very suggestion of which the self-important man in the cocked hat\nretired with some precipitation. At this critical moment a fresh, comely\nwoman pressed through the throng to get a peep at the gray-bearded man.\nShe had a chubby child in her arms, which, frightened at his looks, began\nto cry. \u201cHush, Rip,\u201d cried she, \u201chush, you little fool; the old man won\u2019t\nhurt you.\u201d The name of the child, the air of the mother, the tone of her\nvoice, all awakened a train of recollections in his mind. \u201cWhat\u2019s your\nname, my good woman?\u201d asked he.\n\n\u201cJudith Gardenier.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd your father\u2019s name?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, poor man, Rip Van Winkle was his name, but it\u2019s twenty years\nsince he went away from home with his gun, and never has been heard of\nsince\u2014his dog came home without him; but whether he shot himself, or was\ncarried away by the Indians, nobody can tell. I was then but a little\ngirl.\u201d\n\nRip had but one question more to ask; but he put it with a faltering\nvoice:\n\n\u201cWhere\u2019s your mother?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, she too had died but a short time since; she broke a blood-vessel in\na fit of passion at a New England peddler.\u201d\n\nThere was a drop of comfort, at least, in this intelligence. The honest\nman could contain himself no longer. He caught his daughter and her child\nin his arms. \u201cI am your father!\u201d cried he\u2014\u201cYoung Rip Van Winkle once\u2014old\nRip Van Winkle now!\u2014Does nobody know poor Rip Van Winkle?\u201d\n\nAll stood amazed, until an old woman, tottering out from among the crowd,\nput her hand to her brow, and peering under it in his face for a moment,\nexclaimed, \u201cSure enough; it is Rip Van Winkle\u2014it is himself! Welcome home\nagain, old neighbor\u2014Why, where have you been these twenty long years?\u201d\n\nRip\u2019s story was soon told, for the whole twenty years had been to him but\nas one night. The neighbors stared when they heard it; some were seen\nto wink at each other, and put their tongues in their cheeks; and the\nself-important man in the cocked hat, who, when the alarm was over, had\nreturned to the field, screwed down the corners of his mouth, and shook\nhis head\u2014upon which there was a general shaking of the head throughout\nthe assemblage.\n\nIt was determined, however, to take the opinion of old Peter Vanderdonk,\nwho was seen slowly advancing up the road. He was a descendant of the\nhistorian of that name, who wrote one of the earliest accounts of the\nprovince. Peter was the most ancient inhabitant of the village, and well\nversed in all the wonderful events and traditions of the neighborhood.\nHe recollected Rip at once and corroborated his story in the most\nsatisfactory manner. He assured the company that it was a fact, handed\ndown from his ancestor the historian, that the Kaatskill mountains had\nalways been haunted by strange beings. That it was affirmed that the\ngreat Hendrick Hudson, the first discoverer of the river and country,\nkept a kind of vigil there every twenty years, with his crew of the\n_Half-Moon_; being permitted in this way to revisit the scenes of his\nenterprise, and keep a guardian eye upon the river, and the great city\ncalled by his name. That his father had once seen them in their old Dutch\ndresses playing at ninepins in a hollow of the mountain; and that he\nhimself had heard, one summer afternoon, the sound of their balls like\ndistant peals of thunder.\n\nTo make a long story short, the company broke up, and returned to the\nmore important concerns of the election. Rip\u2019s daughter took him home to\nlive with her; she had a snug, well-furnished house, and a stout cheery\nfarmer for a husband, whom Rip recollected for one of the urchins that\nused to climb upon his back. As to Rip\u2019s son and heir, who was the ditto\nof himself, seen leaning against the tree, he was employed to work on the\nfarm; but evinced an hereditary disposition to attend to anything else\nbut his business.\n\nRip now resumed his old walks and habits; he soon found many of his\nformer cronies, though all rather the worse for the wear and tear of\ntime, and preferred making friends among the rising generation, with whom\nhe soon grew into great favor.\n\nHaving nothing to do at home, and being arrived at that happy age when a\nman can be idle with impunity, he took his place once more on the bench\nat the inn door, and was reverenced as one of the patriarchs of the\nvillage, and a chronicle of the old times \u201cbefore the war.\u201d It was some\ntime before he could get into the regular track of gossip, or could be\nmade to comprehend the strange events that had taken place during his\ntorpor. How that there had been a revolutionary war\u2014that the country\nhad thrown off the yoke of old England\u2014and that, instead of being a\nsubject of his Majesty George the Third, he was now a free citizen of the\nUnited States. Rip, in fact, was no politician; the changes of states\nand empires made but little impression on him; but there was one species\nof despotism under which he had long groaned, and that was\u2014petticoat\ngovernment. Happily that was at an end; he had got his neck out of the\nyoke of matrimony, and could go in and out whenever he pleased, without\ndreading the tyranny of Dame Van Winkle. Whenever her name was mentioned,\nhowever, he shook his head, shrugged his shoulders, and cast up his eyes;\nwhich might pass either for an expression of resignation to his fate, or\njoy at his deliverance.\n\nHe used to tell his story to every stranger that arrived at Mr.\nDoolittle\u2019s hotel. He was observed, at first, to vary on some points\nevery time he told it, which was, doubtless, owing to his having so\nrecently awakened. It at last settled down precisely to the tale I have\nrelated, and not a man, woman or child in the neighborhood but knew it\nby heart. Some always pretended to doubt the reality of it, and insisted\nthat Rip had been out of his head, and that this was one point on which\nhe always remained flighty. The old Dutch inhabitants, however, almost\nuniversally gave it full credit. Even to this day they never hear a\nthunderstorm of a summer afternoon about the Kaatskill, but they say\nHendrick Hudson and his crew are at their game of ninepins; and it is a\ncommon wish of all hen-pecked husbands in the neighborhood, when life\nhangs heavy on their hands, that they might have a quieting draught out\nof Rip Van Winkle\u2019s flagon.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW\n\nBy Washington Irving\n\n\nIn the bosom of one of those spacious coves which indent the eastern\nshore of the Hudson, at that broad expansion of the river denominated\nby the ancient Dutch navigators the Tappan Zee, and where they always\nprudently shortened sail, and implored the protection of St. Nicholas\nwhen they crossed, there lies a small market-town or rural port, which\nby some is called Greensburgh, but which is more generally and properly\nknown by the name of Tarrytown. This name was given, we are told, in\nformer days, by the good housewives of the adjacent country, from the\ninveterate propensity of their husbands to linger about the tavern on\nmarket days. Be that as it may, I do not vouch for the fact, but merely\nadvert to it, for the sake of being precise and authentic. Not far from\nthis village, perhaps about two miles, there is a little valley, or\nrather lap of land, among high hills, which is one of the quietest places\nin the whole world. A small brook glides through it, with just murmur\nenough to lull one to repose; and the occasional whistle of a quail, or\ntapping of a woodpecker, is almost the only sound that ever breaks in\nupon the uniform tranquillity.\n\n[Illustration: A TROOP OF STRANGE CHILDREN RAN AT HIS HEELS\u2014page 377\n\n_From the painting by Arthur Rackham_]\n\nI recollect that, when a stripling, my first exploit in squirrel-shooting\nwas in a grove of tall walnut-trees that shades one side of the valley. I\nhad wandered into it at noon time, when all nature is peculiarly quiet,\nand was startled by the roar of my own gun, as it broke the Sabbath\nstillness around, and was prolonged and reverberated by the angry echoes.\nIf ever I should wish for a retreat, whither I might steal from the world\nand its distractions, and dream quietly away the remnant of a troubled\nlife, I know of none more promising than this little valley.\n\nFrom the listless repose of the place, and the peculiar character of\nits inhabitants, who are descendants from the original Dutch settlers,\nthis sequestered glen has long been known by the name of SLEEPY HOLLOW,\nand its rustic lads are called the Sleepy Hollow Boys throughout all\nthe neighboring country. A drowsy, dreamy influence seems to hang over\nthe land, and to pervade the very atmosphere. Some say that the place\nwas bewitched by a high German doctor, during the early days of the\nsettlement; others, that an old Indian chief, the prophet or wizard of\nhis tribe, held his pow-wows there before the country was discovered by\nMaster Hendrick Hudson. Certain it is, the place still continues under\nthe sway of some witching power, that holds a spell over the minds of\nthe good people, causing them to walk in a continual reverie. They are\ngiven to all kinds of marvellous beliefs; are subject to trances and\nvisions; and frequently see strange sights, and hear music and voices in\nthe air. The whole neighborhood abounds with local tales, haunted spots,\nand twilight superstitions; stars shoot and meteors glare oftener across\nthe valley than in any other part of the country, and the nightmare, with\nher whole nine-fold, seems to make it the favorite scene of her gambols.\n\nThe dominant spirit, however, that haunts this enchanted region, and\nseems to be commander-in-chief of all the powers of the air, is the\napparition of a figure on horseback without a head. It is said by some\nto be the ghost of a Hessian trooper, whose head had been carried away\nby a cannon-ball, in some nameless battle during the revolutionary war;\nand who is ever and anon seen by the country folk, hurrying along in\nthe gloom of night as if on the wings of the wind. His haunts are not\nconfined to the valley, but extend at times to the adjacent roads, and\nespecially to the vicinity of a church at no great distance. Indeed,\ncertain of the most authentic historians of those parts, who have been\ncareful in collecting and collating the floating facts concerning this\nspecter, allege that the body of the trooper, having been buried in the\nchurchyard, the ghost rides forth to the scene of battle in nightly quest\nof his head; and that the rushing speed with which he sometimes passes\nalong the Hollow, like a midnight blast, is owing to his being belated,\nand in a hurry to get back to the churchyard before daybreak.\n\nSuch is the general purport of this legendary superstition, which has\nfurnished materials for many a wild story in that region of shadows; and\nthe specter is known, at all the country firesides, by the name of the\nHeadless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow.\n\nIt is remarkable that the visionary propensity I have mentioned is not\nconfined to the native inhabitants of the valley, but is unconsciously\nimbibed by every one who resides there for a time. However wide awake\nthey may have been before they entered that sleepy region, they are sure,\nin a little time, to inhale the witching influence of the air, and begin\nto grow imaginative\u2014to dream dreams, and see apparitions.\n\nI mention this peaceful spot with all possible laud; for it is in such\nlittle retired Dutch valleys, found here and there embosomed in the great\nState of New York, that population, manners, and customs, remain fixed;\nwhile the great torrent of migration and improvement, which is making\nsuch incessant changes in other parts of this restless country, sweeps by\nthem unobserved. They are like those little nooks of still water which\nborder a rapid stream; where we may see the straw and bubble riding\nquietly at anchor, or slowly revolving in their mimic harbor, undisturbed\nby the rush of the passing current.\n\nThough many years have elapsed since I trod the drowsy shades of Sleepy\nHollow, yet I question whether I should not still find the same trees\nand the same families vegetating in its sheltered bosom.\n\nIn this by-place of nature, there abode, in a remote period of American\nhistory, that is to say, some thirty years since, a worthy wight of the\nname of Ichabod Crane; who sojourned, or, as he expressed it, \u201ctarried,\u201d\nin Sleepy Hollow, for the purpose of instructing the children of the\nvicinity. He was a native of Connecticut; a State which supplies the\nUnion with pioneers for the mind as well as for the forest, and sends\nforth yearly its legions of frontier woodsmen and country schoolmasters.\nThe cognomen of Crane was not inapplicable to his person. He was tall,\nbut exceedingly lank, with narrow shoulders, long arms and legs, hands\nthat dangled a mile out of his sleeves, feet that might have served for\nshovels, and his whole frame most loosely hung together. His head was\nsmall, and flat at top, with huge ears, large green glassy eyes, and\na long snipe nose, so that it looked like a weathercock, perched upon\nhis spindle neck, to tell which way the wind blew. To see him striding\nalong the profile of a hill on a windy day, with his clothes bagging\nand fluttering about him, one might have mistaken him for the genius\nof famine descending upon the earth, or some scarecrow eloped from a\ncornfield.\n\nHis school-house was a low building of one large room, rudely constructed\nof logs; the windows partly glazed, and partly patched with leaves of\nold copy-books. It was most ingeniously secured at vacant hours, by a\nwithe twisted in the handle of the door, and stakes set against the\nwindow shutters; so that, though a thief might get in with perfect\nease, he would find some embarrassment in getting out; an idea most\nprobably borrowed by the architect, Yost Van Houten, from the mystery\nof an eel-pot. The school-house stood in a rather lonely but pleasant\nsituation, just at the foot of a woody hill, with a brook running close\nby, and a formidable birch tree growing at one end of it. From hence the\nlow murmur of his pupils\u2019 voices, conning over their lessons, might be\nheard in a drowsy summer\u2019s day, like the hum of a bee-hive; interrupted\nnow and then by the authoritative voice of the master, in the tone of\nmenace or command; or, peradventure, by the appalling sound of the birch,\nas he urged some tardy loiterer along the flowery path of knowledge.\nTruth to say, he was a conscientious man, and ever bore in mind the\ngolden maxim, \u201cSpare the rod and spoil the child.\u201d\u2014Ichabod Crane\u2019s\nscholars certainly were not spoiled.\n\nI would not have it imagined, however, that he was one of those cruel\npotentates of the school, who joy in the smart of their subjects; on\nthe contrary, he administered justice with discrimination rather than\nseverity; taking the burthen off the backs of the weak, and laying it on\nthose of the strong. Your mere puny stripling, that winced at the least\nflourish of the rod, was passed by with indulgence; but the claims of\njustice were satisfied by inflicting a double portion on some little,\ntough, wrong-headed, broad-skirted Dutch urchin, who sulked and swelled\nand grew dogged and sullen beneath the birch. All this he called \u201cdoing\nhis duty by their parents\u201d; and he never inflicted a chastisement without\nfollowing it by the assurance, so consolatory to the smarting urchin,\nthat \u201che would remember it, and thank him for it the longest day he had\nto live.\u201d\n\nWhen school hours were over, he was even the companion and playmate\nof the larger boys; and on holiday afternoons would convoy some of\nthe smaller ones home, who happened to have pretty sisters, or good\nhousewives for mothers, noted for the comforts of the cupboard. Indeed,\nit behooved him to keep on good terms with his pupils. The revenue\narising from his school was small, and would have been scarcely\nsufficient to furnish him with daily bread, for he was a huge feeder, and\nthough lank, had the dilating powers of an anaconda; but to help out his\nmaintenance, he was, according to country custom in those parts, boarded\nand lodged at the houses of the farmers, whose children he instructed.\nWith these he lived successively a week at a time; thus going the rounds\nof the neighborhood, with all his worldly effects tied up in a cotton\nhandkerchief.\n\nThat all this might not be too onerous on the purses of his rustic\npatrons, who are apt to consider the costs of schooling a grievous\nburden, and schoolmasters as mere drones, he had various ways of\nrendering himself both useful and agreeable. He assisted the farmers\noccasionally in the lighter labors of their farms; helped to make hay;\nmended the fences; took the horses to water; drove the cows from pasture;\nand cut wood for the winter fire. He laid aside, too, all the dominant\ndignity and absolute sway with which he lorded it in his little empire,\nthe school, and became wonderfully gentle and ingratiating. He found\nfavor in the eyes of the mothers, by petting the children, particularly\nthe youngest; and like the lion bold, which whilom so magnanimously the\nlamb did hold, he would sit with a child on one knee, and rock a cradle\nwith his foot for whole hours together.\n\nIn addition to his other vocations, he was the singing-master of the\nneighborhood, and picked up many bright shillings by instructing the\nyoung folks in psalmody. It was a matter of no little vanity to him, on\nSundays, to take his station in front of the church gallery, with a band\nof chosen singers; where, in his own mind, he completely carried away the\npalm from the parson. Certain it is, his voice resounded far above all\nthe rest of the congregation; and there are peculiar quavers still to\nbe heard in that church, and which may be heard half a mile off, quite\nto the opposite side of the mill-pond, on a still Sunday morning, which\nare said to be legitimately descended from the nose of Ichabod Crane.\nThus, by divers little makeshifts in that ingenious way which is commonly\ndenominated \u201cby hook and by crook,\u201d the worthy pedagogue got on tolerably\nenough, and was thought, by all who understood nothing of the labor of\nheadwork, to have a wonderfully easy life of it.\n\nThe schoolmaster is generally a man of some importance in the female\ncircle of a rural neighborhood; being considered a kind of idle\ngentlemanlike personage, of vastly superior taste and accomplishments to\nthe rough country swains, and indeed, inferior in learning only to the\nparson. His appearance, therefore, is apt to occasion some little stir at\nthe tea-table of a farmhouse, and the addition of a supernumerary dish\nof cakes or sweetmeats, or, peradventure, the parade of a silver teapot.\nOur man of letters, therefore, was peculiarly happy in the smiles of all\nthe country damsels. How he would figure among them in the churchyard,\nbetween services on Sundays! gathering grapes for them from the wild\nvines that overran the surrounding trees; reciting for their amusement\nall the epitaphs on the tombstones; or sauntering, with a whole bevy of\nthem, along the banks of the adjacent mill-pond; while the more bashful\ncountry bumpkins hung sheepishly back, envying his superior elegance and\naddress.\n\nFrom his half itinerant life, also, he was a kind of travelling gazette,\ncarrying the whole budget of local gossip from house to house; so that\nhis appearance was always greeted with satisfaction. He was, moreover,\nesteemed by the women as a man of great erudition, for he had read\nseveral books quite through, and was a perfect master of Cotton Mather\u2019s\nHistory of New England Witchcraft, in which, by the way, he most firmly\nand potently believed.\n\nHe was, in fact, an odd mixture of small shrewdness and simple credulity.\nHis appetite for the marvellous, and his powers of digesting it, were\nequally extraordinary; and both had been increased by his residence\nin this spellbound region. No tale was too gross or monstrous for his\ncapacious swallow. It was often his delight, after his school was\ndismissed in the afternoon, to stretch himself on the rich bed of clover\nbordering the little brook that whimpered by his school-house, and\nthere con over old Mather\u2019s direful tales, until the gathering dusk of\nthe evening made the printed page a mere mist before his eyes. Then,\nas he wended his way, by swamp and stream and awful woodland, to the\nfarmhouse where he happened to be quartered, every sound of nature, at\nthat witching hour, fluttered his excited imagination: the moan of the\nwhip-poor-will[4] from the hillside; the boding cry of the tree-toad,\nthat harbinger of storm; the dreary hooting of the screech-owl, or the\nsudden rustling in the thicket of birds frightened from their roost. The\nfireflies, too, which sparkled most vividly in the darkest places, now\nand then startled him, as one of uncommon brightness would stream across\nhis path; and if, by chance, a huge blockhead of a beetle came winging\nhis blundering flight against him, the poor varlet was ready to give up\nthe ghost, with the idea that he was struck with a witch\u2019s token. His\nonly resource on such occasions, either to drown thought, or drive away\nevil spirits, was to sing psalm tunes;\u2014and the good people of Sleepy\nHollow, as they sat by their doors of an evening, were often filled with\nawe at hearing his nasal melody, \u201cin linked sweetness long drawn out,\u201d\nfloating from the distant hill, or along the dusky road.\n\nAnother of his sources of fearful pleasure was, to pass long winter\nevenings with the old Dutch wives, as they sat spinning by the fire, with\na row of apples roasting and spluttering along the hearth, and listen to\ntheir marvellous tales of ghosts and goblins, and haunted fields, and\nhaunted brooks, and haunted bridges, and haunted houses, and particularly\nof the headless horseman, or galloping Hessian of the Hollow, as they\nsometimes called him. He would delight them equally by his anecdotes of\nwitchcraft, and of the direful omens and portentous sights and sounds in\nthe air, which prevailed in the earlier times of Connecticut; and would\nfrighten them woefully with speculations upon comets and shooting stars;\nand with the alarming fact that the world did absolutely turn round, and\nthat they were half the time topsy-turvy!\n\nBut if there was a pleasure in all this, while snugly cuddling in the\nchimney-corner of a chamber that was all of a ruddy glow from the\ncrackling wood fire, and where, of course, no specter dared to show his\nface, it was dearly purchased by the terrors of his subsequent walk\nhomewards. What fearful shapes and shadows beset his path amidst the dim\nand ghastly glare of a snowy night!\u2014With what wistful look did he eye\nevery trembling ray of light streaming across the waste fields from some\ndistant window!\u2014How often was he appalled by some shrub covered with\nsnow, which, like a sheeted specter, beset his very path!\u2014How often did\nhe shrink with curdling awe at the sound of his own steps on the frosty\ncrust beneath his feet; and dreaded to look over his shoulder, lest he\nshould behold some uncouth being tramping close behind him!\u2014and how often\nwas he thrown into complete dismay by some rushing blast, howling among\nthe trees, in the idea that it was the Galloping Hessian on one of his\nnightly scourings!\n\nAll these, however, were mere terrors of the night, phantoms of the mind\nthat walked in darkness; and though he had seen many specters in his\ntime, and been more than once beset by Satan in divers shapes, in his\nlonely perambulations, yet daylight put an end to all these evils; and\nhe would have passed a pleasant life of it, in despite of the devil and\nall his works, if his path had not been crossed by a being that causes\nmore perplexity to mortal man than ghosts, goblins, and the whole race of\nwitches put together, and that was\u2014a woman.\n\nAmong the musical disciples who assembled, one evening in each week,\nto receive his instructions in psalmody, was Katrina Van Tassel, the\ndaughter and only child of a substantial Dutch farmer. She was a blooming\nlass of fresh eighteen; plump as a partridge; ripe and melting and\nrosy-cheeked as one of her father\u2019s peaches, and universally famed,\nnot merely for her beauty, but her vast expectations. She was withal a\nlittle of a coquette, as might be perceived even in her dress, which\nwas a mixture of ancient and modern fashions, as most suited to set\noff her charms. She wore the ornaments of pure yellow gold, which her\ngreat-great-grandmother had brought over from Saardam; the tempting\nstomacher of the olden time; and withal a provokingly short petticoat, to\ndisplay the prettiest foot and ankle in the country road.\n\nIchabod Crane had a soft and foolish heart towards the sex; and it is\nnot to be wondered at that so tempting a morsel soon found favor in his\neyes; more especially after he had visited her in her paternal mansion.\nOld Baltus Van Tassel was a perfect picture of a thriving, contented,\nliberal-hearted farmer. He seldom, it is true, sent either his eyes or\nhis thoughts beyond the boundaries of his own farm; but within those\neverything was snug, happy, and well-conditioned. He was satisfied with\nhis wealth, but not proud of it; and piqued himself upon the hearty\nabundance rather than the style in which he lived. His stronghold was\nsituated on the banks of the Hudson, in one of those green, sheltered,\nfertile nooks, in which Dutch farmers are so fond of nestling. A great\nelm-tree spread its broad branches over it; at the foot of which bubbled\nup a spring of the softest and sweetest water, in a little well, formed\nof a barrel; and then stole sparkling away through the grass, to a\nneighboring brook, that bubbled along among alders and dwarf willows.\nHard by the farmhouse was a vast barn, that might have served for a\nchurch; every window and crevice of which seemed bursting forth with\nthe treasures of the farm. The flail was busily resounding within it\nfrom morning to night; swallows and martins skimmed twittering about the\neaves; and rows of pigeons, some with one eye turned up, as if watching\nthe weather, some with their heads under their wings, or buried in their\nbosoms, and others swelling, and cooing, and bowing about their dames,\nwere enjoying the sunshine on the roof. Sleek unwieldy porkers were\ngrunting in the repose and abundance of their pens; whence sallied forth,\nnow and then, troops of sucking pigs, as if to snuff the air. A stately\nsquadron of snowy geese were riding in an adjoining pond, convoying whole\nfleets of ducks; regiments of turkeys were gobbling through the farmyard,\nand guinea fowls fretting about it, like ill-tempered housewives, with\ntheir peevish, discontented cry. Before the barn door strutted the\ngallant cock, that pattern of a husband, a warrior, and a fine gentleman,\nclapping his burnished wings, and crowing in the pride and gladness\nof his heart\u2014sometimes tearing up the earth with his feet, and then\ngenerously calling his ever-hungry family of wives and children to enjoy\nthe rich morsel which he had discovered.\n\nThe pedagogue\u2019s mouth watered, as he looked upon this sumptuous promise\nof luxurious winter fare. In his devouring mind\u2019s eye, he pictured to\nhimself every roasting-pig running about with a pudding in his belly,\nand an apple in his mouth; the pigeons were snugly put to bed in a\ncomfortable pie, and tucked in with a coverlet of crust; the geese were\nswimming in their own gravy; and the ducks pairing cosily in dishes,\nlike snug married couples, with a decent competency of onion sauce. In\nthe porkers he saw carved out the future sleek side of bacon, and juicy\nrelishing ham; not a turkey but he beheld daintily trussed up, with\nits gizzard under its wing, and, peradventure, a necklace of savory\nsausages; and even bright chanticleer himself lay sprawling on his back,\nin a side-dish, with uplifted claws, as if craving that quarter which his\nchivalrous spirit disdained to ask while living.\n\nAs the enraptured Ichabod fancied all this, and as he rolled his great\ngreen eyes over the fat meadow-lands, the rich fields of wheat, of rye,\nof buckwheat, and Indian corn, and the orchards burdened with ruddy\nfruit, which surrounded the warm tenement of Van Tassel, his heart\nyearned after the damsel who was to inherit these domains, and his\nimagination expanded with the idea, how they might be readily turned into\ncash, and the money invested in immense tracts of wild land, and shingle\npalaces in the wilderness. Nay, his busy fancy already realized his\nhopes, and presented to him the blooming Katrina, with a whole family of\nchildren, mounted on the top of a wagon loaded with household trumpery,\nwith pots and kettles dangling beneath; and he beheld himself bestriding\na pacing mare, with a colt at her heels, setting out for Kentucky,\nTennessee, or the Lord knows where.\n\nWhen he entered the house the conquest of his heart was complete. It was\none of those spacious farmhouses, with high-ridged, but lowly-sloping\nroofs, built in the style handed down from the first Dutch settlers,\nthe low projecting eaves forming a piazza along the front, capable of\nbeing closed up in bad weather. Under this were hung flails, harness,\nvarious utensils of husbandry, and nets for fishing in the neighboring\nriver. Benches were built along the sides for summer use; and a great\nspinning-wheel at one end, and a churn at the other, showed the various\nuses to which this important porch might be devoted. From this piazza\nthe wondering Ichabod entered the hall, which formed the center of the\nmansion and the place of usual residence. Here, rows of resplendent\npewter, ranged on a long dresser, dazzled his eyes. In one corner\nstood a huge bag of wool ready to be spun; in another a quantity of\nlinsey-woolsey just from the loom; ears of Indian corn, and strings of\ndried apples and peaches, hung in gay festoons along the walls, mingled\nwith the gaud of red peppers, and a door left ajar gave him a peep\ninto the best parlor, where the claw-footed chairs, and dark mahogany\ntables, shone like mirrors. Andirons, with their accompanying shovel\nand tongs, glistened from their covert of asparagus tops; mock-oranges\nand conch-shells decorated the mantel-piece; strings of various colored\nbirds\u2019 eggs were suspended above it. A great ostrich egg was hung from\nthe center of the room, and a corner cupboard, knowingly left open,\ndisplayed immense treasures of old silver and well-mended china.\n\nFrom the moment Ichabod laid his eyes upon these regions of delight, the\npeace of his mind was at an end, and his only study was how to gain the\naffections of the peerless daughter of Van Tassel. In this enterprise,\nhowever, he had more real difficulties than generally fell to the lot of\na knight-errant of yore, who seldom had anything but giants, enchanters,\nfiery dragons, and such like easily conquered adversaries, to contend\nwith; and had to make his way merely through gates of iron and brass,\nand walls of adamant, to the castle keep, where the lady of his heart\nwas confined, all of which he achieved as easily as a man would carve\nhis way to the center of a Christmas pie, and then the lady gave him her\nhand as a matter of course. Ichabod, on the contrary, had to win his way\nto the heart of a country coquette, beset with a labyrinth of whims and\ncaprices, which were forever presenting new difficulties and impediments;\nand he had to encounter a host of fearful adversaries of real flesh and\nblood, the numerous rustic admirers, who beset every portal to her heart,\nkeeping a watchful and angry eye upon each other, but ready to fly out in\nthe common cause against any new competitor.\n\nAmong these the most formidable was a burly, roaring, roystering blade,\nof the name of Abraham, or, according to the Dutch abbreviation, Brom\nVan Brunt, the hero of the country round, which rang with his feats of\nstrength and hardihood. He was broad-shouldered and double-jointed, with\nshort curly black hair, and a bluff, but not unpleasant countenance,\nhaving a mingled air of fun and arrogance. From his Herculean frame and\ngreat powers of limb, he had received the nickname of BROM BONES, by\nwhich he was universally known. He was famed for great knowledge and\nskill in horsemanship, being as dexterous on horseback as a Tartar. He\nwas foremost at all races and cock-fights; and, with the ascendency\nwhich bodily strength acquires in rustic life, was the umpire in all\ndisputes, setting his hat on one side, and giving his decisions with\nan air and tone admitting of no gainsay or appeal. He was always ready\nfor either a fight or a frolic; but had more mischief than ill-will in\nhis composition; and, with all his overbearing roughness, there was a\nstrong dash of waggish good humor at bottom. He had three or four boon\ncompanions, who regarded him as their model, and at the head of whom he\nscoured the country, attending every scene of feud or merriment for miles\nround. In cold weather he was distinguished by a fur cap, surmounted\nwith a flaunting fox\u2019s tail; and when the folks at a country gathering\ndescried this well-known crest at a distance, whisking about among a\nsquad of hard riders, they always stood by for a squall. Sometimes his\ncrew would be heard dashing along past the farmhouses at midnight,\nwith whoop and halloo, like a troop of Don Cossacks; and the old\ndames, startled out of their sleep, would listen for a moment till the\nhurry-scurry had clattered by, and then exclaim, \u201cAy, there goes Brom\nBones and his gang!\u201d The neighbors looked upon him with a mixture of awe,\nadmiration, and good will; and when any madcap prank or rustic brawl\noccurred in the vicinity, always shook their heads, and warranted Brom\nBones was at the bottom of it.\n\nThis rantipole hero had for some time singled out the blooming Katrina\nfor the object of his uncouth gallantries, and though his amorous toyings\nwere something like the gentle caresses and endearments of a bear, yet it\nwas whispered that she did not altogether discourage his hopes. Certain\nit is, his advances were signals for rival candidates to retire, who\nfelt no inclination to cross a lion in his amours; insomuch, that when\nhis horse was seen tied to Van Tassel\u2019s paling, on a Sunday night, a\nsure sign that his master was courting, or, as it is termed, \u201csparking,\u201d\nwithin, all other suitors passed by in despair, and carried the war into\nother quarters.\n\nSuch was the formidable rival with whom Ichabod Crane had to contend,\nand, considering all things, a stouter man than he would have shrunk from\nthe competition, and a wiser man would have despaired. He had, however,\na happy mixture of pliability and perseverance in his nature; he was in\nform and spirit like a supple-jack\u2014yielding, but tough; though he bent,\nhe never broke; and though he bowed beneath the slightest pressure, yet,\nthe moment it was away\u2014jerk! he was as erect, and carried his head as\nhigh as ever.\n\nTo have taken the field openly against his rival would have been madness;\nfor he was not a man to be thwarted in his amours, any more than that\nstormy lover, Achilles. Ichabod, therefore, made his advances in a\nquiet and gently-insinuating manner. Under cover of his character of\nsinging-master, he made frequent visits at the farmhouse; not that he had\nanything to apprehend from the meddlesome interference of parents, which\nis so often a stumbling-block in the path of lovers. Balt Van Tassel\nwas an easy, indulgent soul; he loved his daughter better even than his\npipe, and like a reasonable man and an excellent father, let her have\nher way in everything. His notable little wife, too, had enough to do\nto attend to her housekeeping and manage her poultry; for, as she sagely\nobserved, ducks and geese are foolish things, and must be looked after,\nbut girls can take care of themselves. Thus while the busy dame bustled\nabout the house, or plied her spinning-wheel at one end of the piazza,\nhonest Balt would sit smoking his evening pipe at the other, watching the\nachievements of a little wooden warrior, who, armed with a sword in each\nhand, was most valiantly fighting the wind on the pinnacle of the barn.\nIn the meantime, Ichabod would carry on his suit with the daughter by\nthe side of the spring under the great elm, or sauntering along in the\ntwilight, that hour so favorable to the lover\u2019s eloquence.\n\nI profess not to know how women\u2019s hearts are wooed and won. To me they\nhave always been matters of riddle and admiration. Some seem to have but\none vulnerable point, or door of access; while others have a thousand\navenues, and may be captured in a thousand different ways. It is a\ngreat triumph of skill to gain the former, but a still greater proof of\ngeneralship to maintain possession of the latter, for the man must battle\nfor his fortress at every door and window. He who wins a thousand common\nhearts is therefore entitled to some renown; but he who keeps undisputed\nsway over the heart of a coquette, is indeed a hero. Certain it is, this\nwas not the case with the redoubtable Brom Bones; and from the moment\nIchabod Crane made his advances, the interests of the former evidently\ndeclined; his horse was no longer seen tied at the palings on Sunday\nnights, and a deadly feud gradually arose between him and the preceptor\nof Sleepy Hollow.\n\nBrom, who had a degree of rough chivalry in his nature, would fain have\ncarried matters to open warfare, and have settled their pretensions\nto the lady, according to the mode of those most concise and simple\nreasoners, the knights-errant of yore\u2014by single combat; but Ichabod was\ntoo conscious of the superior might of his adversary to enter the lists\nagainst him: he had overheard a boast of Bones, that he would \u201cdouble the\nschoolmaster up, and lay him on a shelf of his own school-house\u201d; and he\nwas too wary to give him an opportunity. There was something extremely\nprovoking in this obstinately pacific system; it left Brom no alternative\nbut to draw upon the funds of rustic waggery in his disposition, and\nto play off boorish practical jokes upon his rival. Ichabod became\nthe object of whimsical persecution to Bones, and his gang of rough\nriders. They harried his hitherto peaceful domains; smoked out his\nsinging-school, by stopping up the chimney; broke into the school-house\nat night, in spite of its formidable fastenings of withe and window\nstakes, and turned everything topsy-turvy: so that the poor schoolmaster\nbegan to think all the witches in the country held their meetings there.\nBut what was still more annoying, Brom took all opportunities of turning\nhim into ridicule in presence of his mistress, and had a scoundrel dog\nwhom he taught to whine in the most ludicrous manner, and introduced as a\nrival of Ichabod\u2019s to instruct her in psalmody.\n\nIn this way matters went on for some time, without producing any\nmaterial effect on the relative situation of the contending powers.\nOn a fine autumnal afternoon, Ichabod, in pensive mood, sat enthroned\non the lofty stool whence he usually watched all the concerns of his\nlittle literary realm. In his hand he swayed a ferule, that scepter of\ndespotic power; the birch of justice reposed on three nails, behind\nthe throne, a constant terror to evil doers; while on the desk before\nhim might be seen sundry contraband articles and prohibited weapons,\ndetected upon the persons of idle urchins; such as half-munched apples,\npopguns, whirligigs, fly-cages, and whole legions of rampant little paper\ngame-cocks. Apparently there had been some appalling act of justice\nrecently inflicted, for his scholars were all busily intent upon their\nbooks, or slyly whispering behind them with one eye kept upon the master;\nand a kind of buzzing stillness reigned throughout the school-room. It\nwas suddenly interrupted by the appearance of a negro, in tow-doth jacket\nand trousers, a round-crowned fragment of a hat, like the cap of Mercury,\nand mounted on the back of a ragged, wild, half-broken colt, which he\nmanaged with a rope by way of halter. He came clattering up to the school\ndoor with an invitation to Ichabod to attend a merry-making or \u201cquilting\nfrolic,\u201d to be held that evening at Mynheer Van Tassel\u2019s; and having\ndelivered his message with that air of importance, and effort at fine\nlanguage, which a negro is apt to display on petty embassies of the kind,\nhe dashed over the brook, and was seen scampering away up the hollow,\nfull of the importance and hurry of his mission.\n\nAll was now bustle and hubbub in the late quiet school-room. The scholars\nwere hurried through their lessons, without stopping at trifles; those\nwho were nimble skipped over half with impunity, and those who were\ntardy, had a smart application now and then in the rear, to quicken their\nspeed, or help them over a tall word. Books were flung aside without\nbeing put away on the shelves, ink-stands were overturned, benches thrown\ndown, and the whole school was turned loose an hour before the usual\ntime, bursting forth like a legion of young imps, yelping, and racketing\nabout the green, in joy at their early emancipation.\n\nThe gallant Ichabod now spent at least an extra half-hour at his toilet,\nbrushing and furbishing up his best, and indeed only suit of rusty\nblack, and arranging his locks by a bit of broken looking-glass, that\nhung up in the school-house. That he might make his appearance before\nhis mistress in the true style of a cavalier, he borrowed a horse from\nthe farmer with whom he was domiciliated, a choleric old Dutchman, of\nthe name of Hans Van Ripper, and, thus gallantly mounted, issued forth,\nlike a knight-errant in quest of adventures. But it is meet I should,\nin the true spirit of romantic story, give some account of the looks\nand equipments of my hero and his steed. The animal he bestrode was a\nbroken-down plough-horse, that had outlived almost everything but his\nviciousness. He was gaunt and shagged, with a ewe neck and a head like\na hammer; his rusty mane and tail were tangled and knotted with burrs;\none eye had lost its pupil, and was glaring and spectral; but the other\nhad the gleam of a genuine devil in it. Still he must have had fire and\nmettle in his day, if we may judge from the name he bore of Gunpowder.\nHe had, in fact, been a favorite steed of his master\u2019s, the choleric Van\nRipper, who was a furious rider, and had infused, very probably, some of\nhis own spirit into the animal; for, old and broken-down as he looked,\nthere was more of the lurking devil in him than in any young filly in the\ncountry.\n\nIchabod was a suitable figure for such a steed. He rode with short\nstirrups, which brought his knees nearly up to the pommel of the saddle;\nhis sharp elbows stuck out like grasshoppers\u2019; he carried his whip\nperpendicularly in his hand, like a scepter, and, as his horse jogged on,\nthe motion of his arms was not unlike the flapping of a pair of wings.\nA small wool hat rested on the top of his nose, for so his scanty strip\nof forehead might be called; and the skirts of his black coat fluttered\nout almost to the horse\u2019s tail. Such was the appearance of Ichabod and\nhis steed, as they shambled out of the gate of Hans Van Ripper, and it\nwas altogether such an apparition as is seldom to be met with in broad\ndaylight.\n\nIt was, as I have said, a fine autumnal day, the sky was clear and\nserene, and nature wore that rich and golden livery which we always\nassociate with the idea of abundance. The forests had put on their\nsober brown and yellow, while some trees of the tenderer kind had been\nnipped by the frosts into brilliant dyes of orange, purple, and scarlet.\nStreaming files of wild ducks began to make their appearance high in the\nair; the bark of the squirrel might be heard from the groves of beech\nand hickory nuts, and the pensive whistle of the quail at intervals from\nthe neighboring stubble-field.\n\nThe small birds were taking their farewell banquets. In the fulness of\ntheir revelry, they fluttered, chirping and frolicking, from bush to\nbush, and tree to tree, capricious from the very profusion and variety\naround them. There was the honest cock-robin, the favorite game of\nstripling sportsmen, with its loud querulous note; and the twittering\nblackbirds flying in sable clouds; and the golden-winged woodpecker,\nwith his crimson crest, his broad black gorget, and splendid plumage;\nand the cedar-bird, with its red-tipped wings and yellow-tipped tail,\nand its little montero cap of feathers; and the bluejay; that noisy\ncoxcomb, in his gay light-blue coat and white under-clothes; screaming\nand chattering, nodding and bobbing and bowing, and pretending to be on\ngood terms with every songster of the grove.\n\nAs Ichabod jogged slowly on his way, his eye, ever open to every symptom\nof culinary abundance, ranged with delight over the treasures of jolly\nautumn. On all sides he beheld vast store of apples; some hanging in\noppressive opulence on the trees; some gathered into baskets and barrels\nfor the market; others heaped up in rich piles for the cider-press.\nFarther on he beheld great fields of Indian corn, with its golden ears\npeeping from their leafy coverts, and holding out the promise of cakes\nand hasty-pudding; and the yellow pumpkins lying beneath them, turning\nup their fair round bellies to the sun, and giving ample prospects of\nthe most luxurious of pies; and anon he passed the fragrant buckwheat\nfields, breathing the odor of the bee-hive, and as he beheld them, soft\nanticipations stole over his mind of dainty slapjacks, well buttered, and\ngarnished with honey or treacle, by the delicate little dimpled hand of\nKatrina Van Tassel.\n\nThus feeding his mind with many sweet thoughts and \u201csugared\nsuppositions,\u201d he journeyed along the sides of a range of hills which\nlook out upon some of the goodliest scenes of the mighty Hudson. The sun\ngradually wheeled his broad disk down into the west. The wide bosom of\nthe Tappan Zee lay motionless and glassy, excepting that here and there\na gentle undulation waved and prolonged the blue shadow of the distant\nmountain. A few amber clouds floated in the sky, without a breath of air\nto move them. The horizon was of a fine golden tint, changing gradually\ninto a pure apple green, and from that into the deep blue of the\nmid-heaven. A slanting ray lingered on the woody crests of the precipices\nthat overhung some parts of the river, giving greater depth to the\ndark-gray and purple of their rocky sides. A sloop was loitering in the\ndistance, dropping slowly down with the tide, her sail hanging uselessly\nagainst the mast; and as the reflection of the sky gleamed along the\nstill water, it seemed as if the vessel was suspended in the air.\n\nIt was towards evening that Ichabod arrived at the castle of the Heer Van\nTassel, which he found thronged with the pride and flower of the adjacent\ncountry. Old farmers, a spare leathern-faced race, in homespun coats and\nbreeches, blue stockings, huge shoes, and magnificent pewter buckles.\nTheir brisk withered little dames, in close-crimped caps, long-waisted\nshort gowns, homespun petticoats, with scissors and pin-cushions, and gay\ncalico pockets hanging on the outside. Buxom lasses, almost as antiquated\nas their mothers, excepting where a straw hat, a fine ribbon, or perhaps\na white frock gave symptoms of city innovation. The sons, in short\nsquare-skirted coats with rows of stupendous brass buttons, and their\nhair generally queued in the fashion of the times, especially if they\ncould procure an eel-skin for the purpose, it being esteemed, throughout\nthe country, as a potent nourisher and strengthener of the hair.\n\nBrom Bones, however, was the hero of the scene, having come to the\ngathering on his favorite steed Daredevil, a creature, like himself, full\nof mettle and mischief, and which no one but himself could manage. He\nwas, in fact, noted for preferring vicious animals, given to all kinds of\ntricks, which kept the rider in constant risk of his neck, for he held a\ntractable well-broken horse as unworthy of a lad of spirit.\n\nFain would I pause to dwell upon the world of charms that burst upon\nthe enraptured gaze of my hero, as he entered the state parlor of Van\nTassel\u2019s mansion. Not those of the bevy of buxom lasses, with their\nluxurious display of red and white; but the ample charms of a genuine\nDutch country tea-table, in the sumptuous time of autumn. Such heaped-up\nplatters of cakes of various and almost indescribable kinds, known\nonly to experienced Dutch housewives! There was the doughty doughnut,\nthe tenderer oly-koek, and the crisp and crumbling cruller; sweet cakes\nand short cakes, ginger cakes and honey cakes, and the whole family\nof cakes. And then there were apple pies and peach pies and pumpkin\npies; besides slices of ham and smoked beef; and moreover delectable\ndishes of preserved plums, and peaches, and pears, and quinces; not\nto mention broiled shad and roasted chickens; together with bowls of\nmilk and cream, all mingled higgledy-piggledy, pretty much as I have\nenumerated them, with the motherly teapot sending up its clouds of vapor\nfrom the midst\u2014Heaven bless the mark! I want breath and time to discuss\nthis banquet as it deserves, and am too eager to get on with my story.\nHappily, Ichabod Crane was not in so great a hurry as his historian, but\ndid ample justice to every dainty.\n\nHe was a kind and thankful creature, whose heart dilated in proportion as\nhis skin was filled with good cheer; and whose spirits rose with eating\nas some men\u2019s do with drink. He could not help, too, rolling his large\neyes round him as he ate, and chuckling with the possibility that he\nmight one day be lord of all this scene of almost unimaginable luxury\nand splendor. Then, he thought, how soon he\u2019d turn his back upon the old\nschool-house, snap his fingers in the face of Hans Van Ripper, and every\nother niggardly patron, and kick any itinerant pedagogue out of doors\nthat should dare to call him comrade!\n\nOld Baltus Van Tassel moved about among his guests with a face dilated\nwith content and good humor, round and jolly as the harvest moon. His\nhospitable attentions were brief, but expressive, being confined to a\nshake of the hand, a slap on the shoulder, a loud laugh, and a pressing\ninvitation to \u201cfall to, and help themselves.\u201d\n\nAnd now the sound of the music from the common room, or hall, summoned to\nthe dance. The musician was an old gray-headed negro, who had been the\nitinerant orchestra of the neighborhood for more than half a century.\nHis instrument was as old and battered as himself. The greater part of\nthe time he scraped on two or three strings, accompanying every movement\nof the bow with a motion of the head, bowing almost to the ground, and\nstamping with his foot whenever a fresh couple were to start.\n\nIchabod prided himself upon his dancing as much as upon his vocal powers.\nNot a limb, not a fiber about him was idle; and to have seen his loosely\nhung frame in full motion, and clattering about the room, you would\nhave thought Saint Vitus himself, that blessed patron of the dance, was\nfiguring before you in person. He was the admiration of all the negroes;\nwho, having gathered, of all ages and sizes, from the farm and the\nneighborhood, stood forming a pyramid of shining black faces at every\ndoor and window, gazing with delight at the scene, rolling their white\neyeballs, and showing grinning rows of ivory from ear to ear. How could\nthe flogger of urchins be otherwise than animated and joyous? the lady\nof his heart was his partner in the dance, and smiling graciously in\nreply to all his amorous oglings; while Brom Bones, sorely smitten with\nlove and jealousy, sat brooding by himself in one corner.\n\nWhen the dance was at end, Ichabod was attracted to a knot of the sager\nfolks, who, with old Van Tassel, sat smoking at one end of the piazza,\ngossiping over former times, and drawing out long stories about the war.\n\nThis neighborhood, at the time of which I am speaking, was one of those\nhighly-favored places which abound with chronicle and great men. The\nBritish and American lines had run near it during the war; it had,\ntherefore, been the scene of marauding, and infested with refugees,\ncow-boys, and all kinds of border chivalry. Just sufficient time had\nelapsed to enable each story-teller to dress up his tale with a little\nbecoming fiction, and, in the indistinctness of his recollection, to make\nhimself the hero of every exploit.\n\nThere was the story of Doffue Martling, a large, blue-bearded Dutchman,\nwho had nearly taken a British frigate with an old iron nine-pounder\nfrom a mud breastwork, only that his gun burst at the sixth discharge.\nAnd there was an old gentleman who shall be nameless, being too rich a\nmynheer to be lightly mentioned, who, in the battle of Whiteplains, being\nan excellent master of defence, parried a musket ball with a small sword,\ninsomuch that he absolutely felt it whiz round the blade, and glance off\nat the hilt; in proof of which, he was ready at any time to show the\nsword, with the hilt a little bent. There were several more that had\nbeen equally great in the field, not one of whom but was persuaded that\nhe had a considerable hand in bringing the war to a happy termination.\n\nBut all these were nothing to the tales of ghosts and apparitions that\nsucceeded. The neighborhood is rich in legendary treasures of the\nkind. Local tales and superstitions thrive best in these sheltered,\nlong-settled retreats; but are trampled under foot by the shifting throng\nthat forms the population of most of our country places. Besides, there\nis no encouragement for ghosts in most of our villages, for they have\nscarcely had time to finish their first nap, and turn themselves in their\ngraves, before their surviving friends have travelled away from the\nneighborhood; so that when they turn out at night to walk their rounds,\nthey have no acquaintance left to call upon. This is perhaps the reason\nwhy we so seldom hear of ghosts except in our long-established Dutch\ncommunities.\n\nThe immediate cause, however, of the prevalence of supernatural stories\nin these parts, was doubtless owing to the vicinity of Sleepy Hollow.\nThere was a contagion in the very air that blew from that haunted region;\nit breathed forth an atmosphere of dreams and fancies infecting all the\nland. Several of the Sleepy Hollow people were present at Van Tassel\u2019s,\nand, as usual, were doling out their wild and wonderful legends. Many\ndismal tales were told about funeral trains, and mourning cries and\nwailings heard and seen above the great tree where the unfortunate Major\nAndr\u00e9 was taken, and which stood in the neighborhood. Some mention was\nmade also of the woman in white, that haunted the dark glen at Raven\nRock, and was often heard to shriek on winter nights before a storm,\nhaving perished there in the snow. The chief part of the stories,\nhowever, turned upon the favorite specter of Sleepy Hollow, the headless\nhorseman, who had been heard several times of late, patrolling the\ncountry; and, it was said, tethered his horse nightly among the graves in\nthe churchyard.\n\nThe sequestered situation of this church seems always to have made it\na favorite haunt of troubled spirits. It stands on a knoll, surrounded\nby locust-trees and lofty elms, from among which its decent whitewashed\nwalls shine modestly forth, like Christian purity beaming through the\nshades of retirement. A gentle slope descends from it to a silver sheet\nof water, bordered by high trees, between which peeps may be caught at\nthe blue hills of the Hudson. To look upon its grass-grown yard, where\nthe sunbeams seem to sleep so quietly, one would think that there at\nleast the dead might rest in peace. On one side of the church extends\na wide woody dell, along which raves a large brook among broken rocks\nand trunks of fallen trees. Over a deep black part of the stream, not\nfar from the church, was formerly thrown a wooden bridge; the road that\nled to it, and the bridge itself, were thickly shaded by overhanging\ntrees, which cast a gloom about it, even in the daytime; but occasioned\na fearful darkness at night. This was one of the favorite haunts of\nthe headless horseman; and the place where he was most frequently\nencountered. The tale was told of old Brouwer, a most heretical\ndisbeliever in ghosts, how he met the horseman returning from his foray\ninto Sleepy Hollow, and was obliged to get up behind him; how they\ngalloped over bush and brake, over hill and swamp, until they reached\nthe bridge; when the horseman suddenly turned into a skeleton, threw old\nBrouwer into the brook, and sprang away over the tree-tops with a clap of\nthunder.\n\nThis story was immediately matched by a thrice marvellous adventure of\nBrom Bones, who made light of the galloping Hessian as an arrant jockey.\nHe affirmed that, on returning one night from the neighboring village of\nSing-Sing, he had been overtaken by this midnight trooper; that he had\noffered to race with him for a bowl of punch, and should have won it too,\nfor Daredevil beat the goblin horse all hollow, but, just as they came to\nthe church bridge, the Hessian bolted, and vanished in a flash of fire.\n\nAll these tales, told in that drowsy undertone with which men talk in the\ndark, the countenances of the listeners only now and then receiving a\ncasual gleam from the glare of a pipe, sank deep in the mind of Ichabod.\nHe repaid them in kind with large extracts from his invaluable author,\nCotton Mather, and added many marvellous events that had taken place in\nhis native State of Connecticut, and fearful sights which he had seen in\nhis nightly walks about Sleepy Hollow.\n\n[Illustration: A PROVOKINGLY SHORT PETTICOAT, TO DISPLAY THE PRETTIEST\nFOOT IN THE COUNTRY ROAD\u2014page 398\n\n_From the painting by Arthur Rackham_]\n\nThe revel now gradually broke up. The old farmers gathered together\ntheir families in their wagons, and were heard for some time rattling\nalong the hollow roads, and over the distant hills. Some of the damsels\nmounted on pillions behind their favorite swains, and their light-hearted\nlaughter, mingling with the clatter of hoofs, echoed along the silent\nwoodlands, sounding fainter and fainter until they gradually died\naway\u2014and the late scene of noise and frolic was all silent and deserted.\nIchabod only lingered behind, according to the custom of country lovers,\nto have a t\u00eate-\u00e0-t\u00eate with the heiress, fully convinced that he was now\non the highroad to success. What passed at this interview I will not\npretend to say, for in fact I do not know. Something, however, I fear\nme, must have gone wrong, for he certainly sallied forth, after no great\ninterval, with an air quite desolate and chop-fallen.\u2014Oh these women!\nthese women! Could that girl have been playing off any of her coquettish\ntricks?\u2014Was her encouragement of the poor pedagogue all a mere sham\nto secure her conquest of his rival?\u2014Heaven only knows, not I!\u2014Let it\nsuffice to say, Ichabod stole forth with the air of one who had been\nsacking a hen-roost, rather than a fair lady\u2019s heart. Without looking to\nthe right or left to notice the scene of rural wealth, on which he had so\noften gloated, he went straight to the stable, and with several hearty\ncuffs and kicks, roused the steed most uncourteously from the comfortable\nquarters in which he was soundly sleeping, dreaming of mountains of corn\nand oats, and whole valleys of timothy and clover.\n\nIt was the very witching time of night that Ichabod, heavy-hearted and\ncrest-fallen, pursued his travel homewards, along the sides of the lofty\nhills which rise above Tarrytown, and which he had traversed so cheerily\nin the afternoon. The hour was as dismal as himself. Far below him, the\nTappan Zee spread its dusky and indistinct waste of waters, with here\nand there the tall mast of a sloop, riding quietly at anchor under the\nland. In the dead hush of midnight, he could even hear the barking of\nthe watch-dog from the opposite shore of the Hudson; but it was so vague\nand faint as only to give an idea of his distance from this faithful\ncompanion of man. Now and then, too, the long-drawn crowing of a cock,\naccidentally awakened, would sound far, far off, from some farmhouse away\namong the hills\u2014but it was like a dreaming sound in his ear. No signs\nof life occurred near him, but occasionally the melancholy chirp of a\ncricket, or perhaps the guttural twang of a bull-frog, from a neighboring\nmarsh, as if sleeping uncomfortably, and turning suddenly in his bed.\n\nAll the stories of ghosts and goblins that he had heard in the afternoon,\nnow came crowding upon his recollection. The night grew darker and\ndarker; the stars seemed to sink deeper in the sky, and driving clouds\noccasionally hid them from his sight. He had never felt so lonely and\ndismal. He was, moreover, approaching the very place where many of the\nscenes of the ghost stories had been laid. In the center of the road\nstood an enormous tulip-tree, which towered like a giant above all the\nother trees of the neighborhood, and formed a kind of landmark. Its limbs\nwere gnarled, and fantastic, large enough to form trunks for ordinary\ntrees, twisting down almost to the earth, and rising again into the air.\nIt was connected with the tragical story of the unfortunate Andr\u00e9, who\nhad been taken prisoner hard by; and was universally known by the name\nof Major Andr\u00e9\u2019s tree. The common people regarded it with a mixture of\nrespect and superstition, partly out of sympathy for the fate of its\nill-starred namesake, and partly from the tales of strange sights and\ndoleful lamentations told concerning it.\n\nAs Ichabod approached this fearful tree, he began to whistle: he thought\nhis whistle was answered\u2014it was but a blast sweeping sharply through\nthe dry branches. As he approached a little nearer, he thought he saw\nsomething white hanging in the midst of the tree\u2014he paused and ceased\nwhistling, but on looking more narrowly, perceived that it was a place\nwhere the tree had been scathed by lightning; and the white wood laid\nbare. Suddenly he heard a groan\u2014his teeth chattered and his knees smote\nagainst the saddle: it was but the rubbing of one huge bough upon\nanother, as they were swayed about by the breeze. He passed the tree in\nsafety, but new perils lay before him.\n\nAbout two hundred yards from the tree a small brook crossed the road, and\nran into a marshy and thickly-wooded glen, known by the name of Wiley\u2019s\nSwamp. A few rough logs, laid side by side, served for a bridge over\nthis stream. On that side of the road where the brook entered the wood,\na group of oaks and chestnuts, matted thick with wild grapevines, threw\na cavernous gloom over it. To pass this bridge was the severest trial.\nIt was at this identical spot that the unfortunate Andr\u00e9 was captured,\nand under the covert of those chestnuts and vines were the sturdy yeomen\nconcealed who surprised him. This has ever since been considered a\nhaunted stream, and fearful are the feelings of the schoolboy who has to\npass it alone after dark.\n\nAs he approached the stream his heart began to thump; he summoned up,\nhowever, all his resolution, gave his horse half a score of kicks in the\nribs, and attempted to dash briskly across the bridge; but instead of\nstarting forward, the perverse old animal made a lateral movement, and\nran broadside against the fence. Ichabod, whose fears increased with the\ndelay, jerked the reins on the other side, and kicked lustily with the\ncontrary foot: it was all in vain; his steed started, it is true, but\nit was only to plunge to the opposite side of the road into a thicket\nof brambles and alder bushes. The schoolmaster now bestowed both whip\nand heel upon the starveling ribs of old Gunpowder, who dashed forward,\nsnuffling and snorting, but came to a stand just by the bridge, with\na suddenness that had nearly sent his rider sprawling over his head.\nJust at this moment a plashy tramp by the side of the bridge caught the\nsensitive ear of Ichabod. In the dark shadow of the grove, on the margin\nof the brook, he beheld something huge, misshapen, black and towering.\nIt stirred not, but seemed gathered up in the gloom, like some gigantic\nmonster ready to spring upon the traveller.\n\nThe hair of the affrighted pedagogue rose upon his head with terror.\nWhat was to be done? To turn and fly was now too late; and besides,\nwhat chance was there of escaping ghost or goblin, if such it was, which\ncould ride upon the wings of the wind? Summoning up, therefore, a show\nof courage, he demanded in stammering accents\u2014\u201cWho are you?\u201d He received\nno reply. He repeated his demand in a still more agitated voice. Still\nthere was no answer. Once more he cudgelled the sides of the inflexible\nGunpowder, and, shutting his eyes, broke forth with involuntary fervor\ninto a psalm tune. Just then the shadowy object of alarm put itself in\nmotion, and, with a scramble and a bound, stood at once in the middle\nof the road. Though the night was dark and dismal, yet the form of the\nunknown might now in some degree be ascertained. He appeared to be a\nhorseman of large dimensions, and mounted on a black horse of powerful\nframe. He made no offer of molestation or sociability, but kept aloof on\none side of the road, jogging along on the blind side of old Gunpowder,\nwho had now got over his fright and waywardness.\n\nIchabod, who had no relish for this strange midnight companion, and\nbethought himself of the adventure of Brom Bones with the Galloping\nHessian, now quickened his steed, in hopes of leaving him behind. The\nstranger, however, quickened his horse to an equal pace. Ichabod pulled\nup, and fell into a walk, thinking to lag behind\u2014the other did the same.\nHis heart began to sink within him; he endeavored to resume his psalm\ntune, but his parched tongue clove to the roof of his mouth, and he could\nnot utter a stave. There was something in the moody and dogged silence\nof this pertinacious companion, that was mysterious and appalling. It\nwas soon fearfully accounted for. On mounting a rising ground, which\nbrought the figure of his fellow-traveller in relief against the sky,\ngigantic in height, and muffled in a cloak, Ichabod was horror-struck, on\nperceiving that he was headless!\u2014but his horror was still more increased,\non observing that the head, which should have rested on his shoulders,\nwas carried before him on the pommel of the saddle: his terror rose\nto desperation; he rained a shower of kicks and blows upon Gunpowder,\nhoping, by a sudden movement, to give his companion the slip\u2014but the\nspecter started full jump with him. Away then they dashed, through thick\nand thin; stones flying, and sparks flashing at every bound. Ichabod\u2019s\nflimsy garments fluttered in the air, as he stretched his long lank body\naway over his horse\u2019s head, in the eagerness of his flight.\n\nThey had now reached the road which turns off to Sleepy Hollow; but\nGunpowder, who seemed possessed with a demon, instead of keeping up it,\nmade an opposite turn, and plunged headlong down hill to the left. This\nroad leads through a sandy hollow, shaded by trees for about a quarter\nof a mile, where it crosses the bridge famous in goblin story, and just\nbeyond swells the green knoll on which stands the whitewashed church.\n\nAs yet the panic of the steed had given his unskilful rider an apparent\nadvantage in the chase; but just as he had got half way through the\nhollow, the girths of the saddle gave way, and he felt it slipping from\nunder him. He seized it by the pommel, and endeavored to hold it firm,\nbut in vain; and had just time to save himself by clasping old Gunpowder\nround the neck, when the saddle fell to the earth, and he heard it\ntrampled under foot by his pursuer. For a moment the terror of Hans Van\nRipper\u2019s wrath passed across his mind\u2014for it was his Sunday saddle; but\nthis was no time for petty fears; the goblin was hard on his haunches;\nand (unskilful rider that he was!) he had much ado to maintain his seat;\nsometimes slipping on one side, sometimes on another, and sometimes\njolted on the high ridge of his horse\u2019s backbone, with a violence that he\nverily feared would cleave him asunder.\n\nAn opening in the trees now cheered him with the hopes that the church\nbridge was at hand. The wavering reflection of a silver star in the bosom\nof the brook told him he was not mistaken. He saw the walls of the church\ndimly glaring under the trees beyond. He recollected the place where\nBrom Bone\u2019s ghostly competitor had disappeared. \u201cIf I can but reach that\nbridge,\u201d thought Ichabod, \u201cI am safe.\u201d Just then he heard the black steed\npanting and blowing close behind him; he even fancied that he felt his\nhot breath. Another convulsive kick in the ribs, and old Gunpowder sprang\nupon the bridge; he thundered over the resounding planks; he gained the\nopposite side; and now Ichabod cast a look behind to see if his pursuer\nshould vanish, according to rule, in a flash of fire and brimstone.\nJust then he saw the goblin rising in his stirrups, and in the very act\nof hurling his head at him. Ichabod endeavored to dodge the horrible\nmissile, but too late. It encountered his cranium with a tremendous\ncrash\u2014he was tumbled headlong into the dust, and Gunpowder, the black\nsteed, and the goblin rider, passed by like a whirlwind.\n\nThe next morning the old horse was found without his saddle, and with the\nbridle under his feet, soberly cropping the grass at his master\u2019s gate.\nIchabod did not make his appearance at breakfast\u2014dinner-hour came, but no\nIchabod. The boys assembled at the school-house, and strolled idly about\nthe banks of the brook; but no schoolmaster. Hans Van Ripper now began to\nfeel some uneasiness about the fate of poor Ichabod, and his saddle. An\ninquiry was set on foot, and after diligent investigation they came upon\nhis traces. In one part of the road leading to the church was found the\nsaddle trampled in the dirt; the tracks of horses\u2019 hoofs deeply dented\nin the road, and evidently at furious speed, were traced to the bridge,\nbeyond which, on the bank of a broad part of the brook, where the water\nran deep and black, was found the hat of the unfortunate Ichabod, and\nclose beside it a shattered pumpkin.\n\nThe brook was searched, but the body of the schoolmaster was not to be\ndiscovered. Hans Van Ripper, as executor of his estate, examined the\nbundle which contained all his worldly effects. They consisted of two\nshorts and a half; two stocks for the neck; a pair or two of worsted\nstockings; an old pair of corduroy smallclothes; a rusty razor; a book\nof psalm tunes, full of dogs\u2019 ears; and a broken pitchpipe. As to the\nbooks and furniture of the school-house, they belonged to the community,\nexcepting Cotton Mather\u2019s History of Witchcraft, a New England Almanac,\nand a book of dreams and fortune-telling; in which last was a sheet of\nfoolscap much scribbled and blotted in several fruitless attempts to make\na copy of verses in honor of the heiress of Van Tassel. These magic books\nand the poetic scrawl were forthwith consigned to the flames by Hans Van\nRipper; who from that time forward determined to send his children no\nmore to school; observing, that he never knew any good come of this same\nreading and writing. Whatever money the schoolmaster possessed, and he\nhad received his quarter\u2019s pay but a day or two before, he must have had\nabout his person at the time of his disappearance.\n\nThe mysterious event caused much speculation at the church on the\nfollowing Sunday. Knots of gazers and gossips were collected in the\nchurchyard, at the bridge, and at the spot where the hat and pumpkin\nhad been found. The stories of Brouwer, of Bones, and a whole budget of\nothers, were called to mind; and when they had diligently considered them\nall, and compared them with the symptoms of the present case, they shook\ntheir heads, and came to the conclusion that Ichabod had been carried off\nby the Galloping Hessian. As he was a bachelor, and in nobody\u2019s debt,\nnobody troubled his head any more about him. The school was removed to a\ndifferent quarter of the hollow, and another pedagogue reigned in his\nstead.\n\nIt is true, an old farmer, who had been down to New York on a visit\nseveral years after, and from whom this account of the ghostly adventure\nwas received, brought home the intelligence that Ichabod Crane was still\nalive; that he had left the neighborhood, partly through fear of the\ngoblin and Hans Van Ripper, and partly in mortification at having been\nsuddenly dismissed by the heiress; that he had changed his quarters to a\ndistant part of the country; had kept school and studied law at the same\ntime, had been admitted to the bar, turned politician, electioneered,\nwritten for the newspapers, and finally had been made a justice of\nthe Ten Pound Court. Brom Bones, too, who shortly after his rival\u2019s\ndisappearance conducted the blooming Katrina in triumph to the altar,\nwas observed to look exceedingly knowing whenever the story of Ichabod\nwas related, and always burst into a hearty laugh at the mention of the\npumpkin; which led some to suspect that he knew more about the matter\nthan he chose to tell.\n\nThe old country wives, however, who are the best judges of these matters,\nmaintain to this day that Ichabod was spirited away by supernatural\nmeans; and it is a favorite story often told about the neighborhood round\nthe winter evening fire. The bridge became more than ever an object of\nsuperstitious awe, and that may be the reason why the road has been\naltered of late years, so as to approach the church by the border of the\nmill-pond. The school-house being deserted, soon fell to decay, and was\nreported to be haunted by the ghost of the unfortunate pedagogue; and\nthe plough-boy, loitering homeward of a still summer evening, has often\nfancied his voice at a distance, chanting a melancholy psalm tune among\nthe tranquil solitudes of Sleepy Hollow.\n\n [4] The whip-poor-will is a bird which is only heard at night.\n It receives its name from its note, which is thought to\n resemble those words.\n\n\n\n\nTHE HARE WHO THOUGHT THE WORLD HAD COME TO AN END\n\nTranslated by H. N. Francis\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was near the Western Ocean a grove of palm and\nvilva trees. A certain Hare lived here beneath a palm sapling, at the\nfoot of a vilva tree. One day this Hare after feeding came and lay down\nbeneath a young palm tree, and the thought struck him: \u201cIf this earth\nshould be destroyed, what would become of me?\u201d\n\nAt this very moment a ripe vilva fruit fell on a palm leaf. At the sound\nof it the Hare suddenly thought, \u201cThis solid earth is collapsing,\u201d and\nstarting up he fled without so much as looking behind him.\n\nAnother Hare saw him scampering off as if frightened to death, and asked\nthe cause of his sudden flight. \u201cPray don\u2019t ask me,\u201d he said. The second\nHare, followed, crying, \u201cPray, sir, what is it?\u201d and kept running after\nhim.\n\nThen the Hare stopped a moment and, without looking back, he said, \u201cThe\nearth here is breaking up.\u201d And at this the second Hare ran after the\nfirst. And then first one and then another Hare caught sight of him\nrunning and joined in the chase, till one hundred thousand Hares all\ntook their flight together. They were seen by a Deer, a Boar, an Elk, a\nBuffalo, a Wild Ox, a Rhinoceros, a Tiger, a Lion and an Elephant. And\nwhen they asked what it meant and were told that the earth was breaking\nup, they too took to flight. By degrees this host of animals was a league\nlong.\n\nA wise Brahmin who saw this headlong flight of animals, and was told that\nthe cause of it was that the earth was coming to an end, thought: \u201cThe\nearth is nowhere coming to an end. Surely it must be some sound which\nwas misunderstood by them. If I don\u2019t make a great effort they will all\nperish. I will save their lives.\u201d With the speed of a lion he got before\nthem to the foot of a mountain, and roared three times like a lion.\nThey were terribly frightened and stopped in their flight, standing all\nhuddled together. The Brahmin, in the guise of a Lion, went amongst them\nand asked why they were running away.\n\n\u201cThe earth is collapsing,\u201d they answered.\n\n\u201cWho saw it collapsing?\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cThe Elephants know all about it,\u201d they replied. He asked the Elephants,\nbut they didn\u2019t know. They said the Lions knew. But the Lions said, \u201cWe\ndon\u2019t know; the Tigers know.\u201d The Tigers said, \u201cThe Wild Oxen know.\u201d The\nWild Oxen, \u201cThe Buffaloes.\u201d The Buffaloes, \u201cThe Elks.\u201d The Elks, \u201cThe\nBoars.\u201d The Boars, \u201cThe Deer.\u201d The Deer said, \u201cWe don\u2019t know; the Hares\nknow.\u201d When the Hares were questioned they pointed to one particular Hare\nand said, \u201cThis one told us.\u201d\n\nSo the Brahmin went up to him and asked, \u201cIs it true, sir, that the earth\nis breaking up?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, sir, I saw it,\u201d said the Hare.\n\n\u201cWhere,\u201d he asked, \u201cwere you living when you saw it?\u201d\n\n\u201cNear the ocean, sir, in a grove of palm and vilva trees. As I was lying\nbeneath the shade of a palm sapling at the foot of a vilva tree, I\nthought, \u2018If this earth should break up, where shall I go?\u2019 And at that\nvery moment I heard the sound of the earth breaking up, and I fled.\u201d\n\nThe Lion thought to himself: \u201cA ripe vilva fruit evidently must have\nfallen on a palm leaf and made a \u2018thud,\u2019 and this Hare jumped to the\nconclusion that the earth was coming to an end, and ran away. I will\nfind out the exact truth about it.\u201d So he reassured the herd of animals\nand said: \u201cI will take the Hare and go and find out exactly whether the\nearth is coming to an end or not, in the place pointed out by him. Until\nI return do you stay here.\u201d Then, placing the Hare on his back, he sprang\nforward with the speed of a lion, and putting the Hare down in a palm\ngrove, he said, \u201cCome, show us the place you meant.\u201d\n\n\u201cI dare not, my lord,\u201d said the Hare.\n\n\u201cCome, don\u2019t be afraid,\u201d said the Lion. The Hare, not daring to go near\nthe vilva tree, stood afar off and cried, \u201cYonder, sir, is the place of\ndreadful sounds.\u201d\n\nThe Lion went to the foot of the vilva tree, and saw the spot where the\nHare had been lying beneath the shade of the palm tree, and the ripe\nvilva fruit that fell on the palm leaf, and having ascertained that the\nearth had not broken up, he placed the Hare on his back and with the\nspeed of a lion soon came again to the herd of beasts.\n\nHe told them the whole story, and having thus reassured the herd of\nbeasts he let them go.\n\n\n\n\nTHE WATERING OF THE SAPLINGS\n\nTranslated by Rev. W. H. D. Rouse\n\n\nOnce upon a time a king named Vissasena was reigning over the city of\nBenares, and proclamation was made of a holiday. The park-keeper thought\nhe would take a holiday, so, calling the Monkeys that lived in the park,\nhe said:\n\n\u201cThis park is a great blessing to you. I want to take a week\u2019s holiday.\nWill you water the saplings on the seventh day?\u201d \u201cOh, yes,\u201d they said. He\ngave them the watering skins, and went away.\n\nThe Monkeys drew water and began to water the roots, when the eldest\nMonkey cried out:\n\n\u201cWait, now! It\u2019s hard to get water. We must not waste it. Let us pull\nup the plants, and notice the length of their roots; if they have long\nroots, they need plenty of water; but short ones need but a little.\u201d\n\n\u201cTrue, true,\u201d they agreed; so some of them pulled up the plants while\nothers put them back and watered them.\n\n\u201cWho bids you do that?\u201d asked a young gentleman living in Benares.\n\n\u201cOur chief,\u201d they replied.\n\nTo this the young gentleman answered:\n\n \u201cIf he was chosen as the best,\n What sort of creatures are the rest!\u201d\n\nWhereat the Monkeys repeated:\n\n \u201cBrahmin, you know not what you say\n Blaming us in such a way!\n If the root we do not know,\n How can we tell the trees that grow?\u201d\n\n\n\n\nTHE OLD HARE AND THE ELEPHANTS\n\nTranslated by Sir Edwin Arnold\n\n\nOnce on a time very little rain had fallen in the due season; and the\nElephants, being oppressed with thirst, thus addressed their leader:\n\u201cMaster, how are we to live? The small creatures find something to wash\nin, but we cannot, and we are half dead in consequence; whither shall we\ngo then, and what shall we do?\u201d\n\nUpon that the King of the Elephants led them away a little distance and\nshowed them a beautiful pool of water clear as crystal, where they took\ntheir ease.\n\nNow it chanced that a company of Hares resided on the banks of the pool\nand the going and coming of the Elephants trampled many of them to\ndeath, till one of their number grumbled out, \u201cThis troop will be coming\nhere to water every day, and every one of our family will be crushed.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not disquiet yourself,\u201d said an old Buck Hare named Good-speed; \u201cI\nwill manage to stop it,\u201d and so saying, he set off bethinking himself on\nhis way how he should approach and accost a herd of Elephants; for\n\n Elephants destroy by touching, snakes with point of tooth beguile;\n Kings by favor kill, and traitors murder with a fatal smile.\n\n\u201cI will get on the top of a hill,\u201d he thought, \u201cand address the Elephants\nfrom there.\u201d\n\nThis being done, and the lord of the herd perceiving him, it was asked of\nthe Hare, \u201cWho art thou? and whence comest thou?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am an ambassador from His Godship the Moon,\u201d replied Good-speed.\n\n\u201cState your business,\u201d said the Elephant King.\n\n\u201cSire,\u201d began the Hare, \u201can ambassador speaks the truth safely by\nreason of his position. Thus saith the Moon then: \u201cThese Hares were the\nguardians of my pool, and thine Elephants in coming here have scared them\naway. This is not well. Am I not \u201cS\u2019\u00e0s\u2019anka\u201d whose banner bears a hare,\nand are not these Hares my followers?\u201d \u201cPlease your worship,\u201d said the\nElephant King with much fear, \u201cwe knew nothing of this; we will go there\nno more.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt were well,\u201d said the make-believe ambassador, \u201cthat you first make\nyour apologies to the God, who is quaking with rage in his pool, and\nthen went about your business.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe will do so,\u201d replied the Elephant with meekness; and being led by\nnight to the pool, in the ripples of which the image of the Moon was\nquivering, the herd made their prostrations; the Hare explaining to the\nMoon that their fault was committed in ignorance, and therefore they got\ntheir dismissal.\n\n\n\n\nTHE ELEPHANT HAS A BET WITH THE TIGER\n\nBy Walter Skeat, M.R.A.S., F.A.L.\n\n\nIn the beginning Gajah the Elephant and Rimau the Tiger were sworn\nfriends. But one day they came to a clearing and presently encountered\nLobong, the long-tailed Spectacle-Monkey. And when he saw the Monkey the\nElephant said, \u201cMr. Lobong yonder is far too noisy; let us try and shake\nhim off; if he falls to me I am to eat you; and if he falls to you, you\nare to eat me\u2014we will make a wager of it.\u201d The Tiger said, \u201cAgreed?\u201d and\nthe Elephant replied, \u201cAgreed.\u201d \u201cVery well!\u201d said the Tiger; \u201cyou shall\ntry and menace him first.\u201d So the Elephant tried to menace the Monkey.\n\u201c_Au! Au! Au!_\u201d he trumpeted, and each time he trumpeted the Monkey was\nscared. But the Monkey went jumping head foremost through the branches\nand never fell to the ground at all.\n\nPresently, therefore, the Tiger asked the Elephant, \u201cWell, Friend\nElephant, would you like to try your luck again?\u201d But the Elephant said,\n\u201cNo, thank you. It shall be your turn now; and if he falls to you, you\nshall eat me\u2014if you really can make him fall!\u201d\n\nThen the Tiger went and roared his longest and loudest and shortened his\nbody as for a spring and growled and menaced the Monkey thrice. And the\nMonkey leaped and fell at the Tiger\u2019s feet, for his feet and hands were\nparalyzed and would not grip the branches any more. Then the Tiger said,\n\u201cWell, Friend Elephant, I suppose I may eat you now!\u201d But the Elephant\nsaid, \u201cYou have, I admit, won the wager; but I beg you to grant me just\nseven days\u2019 respite, to enable me to visit my wife and children and to\nmake my will.\u201d The Tiger granted the request, and the Elephant went home,\nbellowing and sobbing every foot of the way.\n\nNow the Elephant\u2019s wife heard the sound of her husband\u2019s voice, and said\nto her children, \u201cWhat can be the matter with your father that he keeps\nsobbing so?\u201d And the children listened to make sure and said, \u201cYes, it\nreally is father\u2019s voice, the sobbing, and not that of anybody else.\u201d\nPresently Father Elephant arrived, and Mother Elephant asked, \u201cWhat were\nyou sobbing for, father? What have you done to yourself?\u201d Father Elephant\nreplied, \u201cI made a wager with Friend Tiger about shaking down a Monkey,\nand Friend Tiger beat me; I menaced the Monkey, but he did not fall; if\nhe had fallen to me, I was to have eaten Friend Tiger, but if he fell to\nFriend Tiger, Friend Tiger was to eat me. I was beaten, and now Friend\nTiger says he is going to eat me. So I begged leave to come home and see\nyou, and he has given me just seven days\u2019 respite.\u201d\n\nNow for the seven days Father Elephant kept sobbing aloud, and neither\nate nor slept. And the thing came to the hearing of Friend Mouse-deer.\n\u201cWhat can be the matter with Friend Elephant that he keeps bellowing and\nbellowing, neither does he sleep, so that night is turned into day, and\nday into night? What on earth is the matter with him? Suppose I go and\nsee\u201d (said the Mouse-deer). Then the Mouse-deer went to see what was\nwrong, and asked, \u201cWhat is the matter with you, Friend Elephant, that we\nhear you bellowing and bellowing every single day and every single night,\njust now, too, when the Rams are upon us? You are far too noisy.\u201d\n\nBut the Elephant said, \u201cIt is no mere empty noise, Friend Mouse-deer,\nI have got into a dreadful scrape.\u201d \u201cWhat sort of a scrape?\u201d inquired\nthe Mouse-deer. \u201cI made a wager with Friend Tiger about shaking down a\nMonkey, and he beat me.\u201d \u201cWhat was the stake?\u201d asked the Mouse-deer. \u201cThe\nstake was that Friend Tiger might eat me if Friend Tiger frightened it\ndown; and if I frightened it down, I might eat Friend Tiger. It fell to\nFriend Tiger, and now Friend Tiger wants to eat me. And my reason for\nnot eating or sleeping any more is that I have got only just seven days\u2019\nrespite to go home and visit my wife and children and to make my will.\u201d\nThen the Mouse-deer said, \u201cIf it came to Friend Tiger\u2019s eating you, I\nshould feel exceedingly sorrowful, exceedingly distressed; but things\nbeing only as you say, I feel neither.\u201d \u201cIf you will assist me, I will\nbecome your slave, and my descendant shall be your slaves forever.\u201d \u201cVery\nwell, if that is the case, I will assist you,\u201d said the Mouse-deer. \u201cGo\nand look for a jar full of molasses.\u201d Friend Elephant promised to do so,\nand went to look for it at the house of a maker of Palm-wine. The owner\nof the house fled for his life, and the jar fell into Friend Elephant\u2019s\npossession, who bore it back to the Mouse-deer.\n\nThen Friend Mouse-deer said, \u201cWhen does your promise expire?\u201d and Friend\nElephant replied, \u201cTo-morrow.\u201d So when next morning arrived they started,\nand the Mouse-deer said, \u201cNow pour the molasses over your back and let it\nspread and spread and run down your legs.\u201d Friend Elephant did as he was\nordered. Friend Mouse-deer then instructed the Elephant as follows: \u201cAs\nsoon as I begin to lick up the molasses on your back, bellow as loud as\nyou can and make believe to be hurt, and writhe and wriggle this way and\nthat.\u201d\n\nAnd presently Friend Mouse-deer commenced to lick hard, and Friend\nElephant writhed and wriggled and made believe to be hurt, and made a\nprodigious noise of trumpeting. In this way they proceeded and Friend\nMouse-deer got up and sat astride upon Friend Elephant\u2019s back. And the\nElephant trumpeted and trumpeted all the way till they met with Friend\nTiger. At this Friend Mouse-deer exclaimed, \u201cA single Elephant is very\nshort commons; if I could only catch that big and fat old Tiger there, it\nwould be just enough to satisfy my hunger.\u201d\n\nNow when Friend Tiger heard these words of the Mouse-deer, he said to\nhimself, \u201cSo I suppose if you catch me, you\u2019ll eat me into the bargain,\nwill you?\u201d And Friend Tiger stayed not a moment longer, but fled for his\nlife, fetching very lofty bounds. And soon he met with the Black Ape,\nand Friend Ape asked, \u201cWhy running so hard, Friend Tiger? Why so much\nnoise, and why, just when the Rams are upon us, too, do you go fetching\nsuch lofty bounds?\u201d Friend Tiger replied, \u201cWhat do you mean by \u2018So much\nnoise\u2019? What was the Thing that was got upon Friend Elephant\u2019s back, that\nhad caught Friend Elephant and was devouring him so that he went writhing\nand wriggling for the pain of it, and the blood went streaming down in\nfloods? Moreover the Thing that was on Friend Elephant\u2019s back said, to my\nhearing, that a single Elephant was very short commons; but if It could\ncatch a fat old Tiger like myself that would be just enough to satisfy\nIts hunger.\u201d Friend Ape said, \u201cWhat was that Thing, Friend Tiger?\u201d \u201cI\ndon\u2019t know,\u201d said the Tiger. \u201cAh,\u201d mused the Ape, \u201cI wonder if It _could_\nbe Friend Mouse-deer!\u201d \u201cCertainly not,\u201d said the Tiger; \u201cwhy, how in the\nworld could Friend Mouse-deer swallow _Me_? To say nothing of his not\nbeing used to meat food\u201d (said he). \u201cCome and let us go back again.\u201d\n\nThen they went back again to find the Elephant, and first the Ape went\nthe faster, and then the Tiger went the faster, and then the Ape got in\nfront again. But Friend Mouse-deer sitting on Friend Elephant\u2019s back saw\nthem coming and shouted, \u201cHallo, Father Ape\u201d (said he), \u201cthis is a dog\u2019s\ntrick indeed; you promise to bring me two Tigers and you only bring me\none. I refuse to accept it, Father Ape.\u201d\n\nNow when the Tiger heard this, he ran off at first as fast as he could,\nbut presently he slackened his pace and said, \u201cIt is too bad of you,\nFriend Ape, for trying to cozen me in order to pay your own debts. For\nshame! Father Ape! It was only through good luck that he refused to\naccept me; if he had accepted, I should have been dead and done with. So\nnow, if you come down to the ground, you shall die the death yourself,\njust for your trying to cheat me.\u201d\n\nThus the Tiger and the Ape were set at enmity, and to this day the Tiger\nis very wroth with the Ape for trying to cheat him. And here the story\nends.\n\n\n\n\nHOW THE TORTOISE OUTRAN THE DEER\n\nBy C. F. Hartt\n\n\nA Tortoise met a Deer out walking, one day, and asked him what he was\nlooking for. The Deer answered, \u201cI am out for a walk, to see if I cannot\nfind something to eat; and pray where are you going, Tortoise?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, out walking, looking for water to drink.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow soon do you expect to reach the water?\u201d asked the Deer.\n\n\u201cWhy do you ask that question?\u201d returned the Tortoise.\n\n\u201cBecause your legs are so short.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell!\u201d answered the Tortoise, \u201cI can run faster than you can. If you are\nlong-legged you cannot run so fast as I.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen let us run a race!\u201d said the Deer.\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d answered the Tortoise, \u201cwhen shall we run?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo-morrow.\u201d\n\n\u201cAt what time?\u201d\n\n\u201cVery early in the morning.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll right,\u201d assented the Tortoise, who then went into the forest and\ncalled together his relations, the other Tortoises, saying, \u201cCome on,\nlet\u2019s catch him!\u201d\n\n\u201cBut how are you going to catch him?\u201d they inquired.\n\n\u201cI said to the Deer,\u201d answered the Tortoise, \u201c\u2018Let us run a race, to see\nwho can run the faster.\u2019 Now I am going to cheat that Deer. You scatter\nyourselves along the edge of the campo, in the forest, keeping not very\nfar from one another, and see that you keep perfectly still, each in his\nplace! To-morrow, when we begin the race, the deer will run on the campo,\nbut I will remain quietly in my place. When he calls out to me, if you\nare ahead of him, answer, but take care not to respond if he has passed\nyou.\u201d\n\nEarly the next morning the Deer went out to meet the Tortoise.\n\n\u201cCome,\u201d said the former, \u201clet us run!\u201d\n\n\u201cWait a bit!\u201d said the Tortoise, \u201cI am going to run in the woods.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, how are you, a little, short-legged fellow, going to run in the\nforest?\u201d asked the Deer, surprised.\n\nThe Tortoise insisted that he could not run in the campo, but that he was\naccustomed to run in the forest, so the Deer assented, and the Tortoise\nwent into the woods, saying: \u201cWhen I take my position I will make a noise\nwith a little stick, so that you may know I am ready.\u201d\n\nWhen the Tortoise, having reached his place, gave the signal, the Deer\nstarted off leisurely, laughing to himself, not thinking it worth his\nwhile to run. After the Deer had gone quite a little distance, he turned\nround and called out, \u201cHullo, Tortoise!\u201d When to his astonishment, a\nTortoise a little way ahead cried out, \u201cHullo, Deer!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d said the Deer to himself, \u201cthat Tortoise does run fast!\u201d\nWhereupon he hurried up for a bit and then called out again, but the\nvoice of the Tortoise still seemed to be beyond him.\n\n\u201cWhy, how\u2019s this?\u201d exclaimed the Deer, and he ran briskly for a little\nways till, thinking that he surely must have passed the Tortoise, he\nstopped, turned about, and called again. \u201cHullo, Deer!\u201d the answer came\nfrom the edge of the forest just ahead.\n\nOn this the Deer set off at full speed, and, after a little, but without\nstopping this time, he called to the Tortoise. And still the cry, \u201cHullo,\nDeer!\u201d came back to him from ahead. He then redoubled his forces, but\nwith no better success, and at last, tired and bewildered, he ran against\na tree and fell dead.\n\nThe noise made by the feet of the Deer having ceased, the first Tortoise\nlistened. Not a sound was heard. Then he called to the Deer, but received\nno response. So he went to see what was the matter and found the Deer\nlying at the foot of the tree.\n\n This is an Amazonian myth of the Tupi-speaking population, as\n related in the Lingua Geral.\u2014CHARLES F. HARTT.\n\n A myth of the slow Tortoise (Sun) and the swift Deer (Moon), a\n race which the Sun always wins.\n\n\n\n\nWHICH WAS THE STRONGER, THE TORTOISE, THE TAPIR, OR THE WHALE?\n\nBy C. F. Hartt\n\n\nOne day a Tortoise went down to the sea to drink. A Whale saw him and\ncalled out: \u201cHere, what are you doing, Tortoise?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, I\u2019m drinking, \u2019cause I\u2019m thirsty.\u201d\n\nThen the Whale began to make fun of the Tortoise\u2019s short legs, but the\nTortoise indignantly replied: \u201cEven if my legs are short, I am stronger\nthan you, and I can pull you on shore.\u201d\n\nThe Whale laughed, \u201cCome on, let me see you do it!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell!\u201d said the Tortoise, \u201cjust wait until I go into the forest and get\na sip\u00f3!\u201d[5]\n\nAway went the Tortoise into the forest, and there he met a Tapir, who\nasked him what he was looking for.\n\n\u201cI am looking for a sip\u00f3.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what are you going to do with a sip\u00f3?\u201d asked the Tapir.\n\n\u201cI want it to pull you down to the sea.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou!\u201d exclaimed the Tapir, surprised. \u201cI\u2019ll pull you into the forest,\nand, what\u2019s more\u2014but never mind, let\u2019s try who may be the stronger! Go\nget your sip\u00f3!\u201d The Tortoise went off, and presently came back with a\nvery long sip\u00f3, one end of which he tied around the body of the Tapir.\n\n\u201cNow,\u201d said the Tortoise, \u201cwait here until I go down to the sea. When\nI shake this sip\u00f3, run with all your might into the forest.\u201d Having\nattached one end to the Tapir, he dragged the other down to the sea and\nfastened it to the tail of the Whale. This accomplished, he said, \u201cI will\ngo up into the forest, and when I shake the sip\u00f3, pull as hard as you\ncan, for I am going to draw you on shore.\u201d\n\nThe Tortoise then went into the wood, midway between the Whale and the\nTapir, shook the sip\u00f3, and awaited the result. First the Whale, swimming\nvigorously, dragged the Tapir backward to the sea, but the latter,\nresisting with all his might, finally gained a firm foothold and began to\nget the better of the Whale, drawing him in toward the shore. Then the\nWhale made another effort, and in this manner they kept tugging against\none another, each thinking the Tortoise at the other end of the sip\u00f3,\nuntil at last, both gave up the struggle from sheer exhaustion.\n\nThe Tortoise then walked down to the shore, and the Whale called out to\nhim: \u201cWell, you certainly are strong, Tortoise; I am very tired.\u201d\n\nThe Tortoise untied the sip\u00f3 from the Whale, and, having dipped himself\nin the water, went over to where the Tapir was puffing after his labors.\n\n\u201cWell, Tapir,\u201d he said, as he untied the sip\u00f3, \u201cyou see that I am the\nstronger.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is true, Tortoise, you are very, very strong.\u201d\n\n The Tortoise (Sun) has a trial of strength with the Tapir\n (Moon) or perhaps this is the Tortoise (Sun) provoking the\n everlasting tidal contest between sea and land.\u2014C. F. HARTT.\n\n [5] A sip\u00f3 is a long root growing in the air, often used as a\n rope.\n\n\n\n\nHOW THE TURTLE GOT HIS SHELL\n\nBy Annie Ker\n\n\nLong ago, our fathers have told us, the Turtle and the Wallaby were\nfriends. Now on a certain day the Turtle was hungry, and asked his friend\nto go with him to the beach and from thence to the Hornbill\u2019s garden,\nwhere was much sugarcane and where bananas also were plentiful. This they\ndid, and fed plentifully on all that was there. The Wallaby trod upon the\nstalks of the bananas and bowed them to the ground that his friend might\neat. Thus did he also to the tall sugarcanes and the flowering rush. And\nthey both did eat and their hunger was stayed.\n\nNow while they were eating the Birds were at work in their gardens,\ntilling the ground. When the work was finished they dug up much taro and\nreturned to the village to cook their food. They peeled the roots and cut\nthem up and placed them in the pots for cooking. Then said Binama the\nHornbill, \u201cLet one of you go down to the beach and bring sea water that\nour food may be salted.\u201d\n\nBut nothing came of it, for one by one the Birds made excuse, fearing\nlest an enemy lay in wait. At last the Wagtail arose, and ran into the\nhouse to make ready to go to the beach. He hung his shell breastplate\nround his neck, tied waving feathers round his head, and took his spear\nand went forth. As he went he leaped from side to side the better to\navoid the foe, if foe there were. In a little while he came to Binama\u2019s\ngarden and saw the Turtle and Wallaby feeding. Their hearts trembled;\nnevertheless the Turtle made bold and said to the Wagtail, \u201cThy master\nhas bidden us eat of his bananas that our hunger may be stayed.\u201d\n\nNow the Wagtail knew in his heart that they lied, but he answered never a\nword, but filled his bottles with sea water and ran back to the village\nby another way. When he reached the village he cried aloud, \u201cFriends,\nthe Turtle and the Wallaby are eating in our master\u2019s garden!\u201d At this\nword all arose and ran for their spears, and surrounded the garden. The\nWallaby lifted up his head, and seeing naught but enemies round about\nhim, tarried not but leaped mightily, and escaped. The Turtle could not\njump, as he well knew, so he crawled with haste into a yam patch and hid\nhimself under the leaves.\n\nThe Birds knew he was still there, and they hunted for him diligently\nuntil they found him and dragged him forth. The Turtle feared greatly,\nand cried, \u201cTake not vengeance on me, for truly the Wallaby bade me come\nhither and with his feet he broke the stalks, while I only ate of the\nfruit.\u201d The Birds cared little for his words, and tied him to a pole and\nthus carried him to Binama\u2019s house, where they laid him upon a shelf till\nthe morrow.\n\nThe next day Binama called his servants together and all went to dig\nfood to make a feast, when they should slay the Turtle. None were in the\nhouse but the children whom Binama had set to guard the captive. Then the\nTurtle made his voice soft, and called to the children, \u201cLoosen my bonds,\nO children,\u201d quoth he, \u201cthat we may play together.\u201d Now the children\nknew not what was in the Turtle\u2019s mind, and they did as he bade them. He\ncrawled down from the shelf, and stretched himself, for he was stiff and\nsore. Then he said to the children, \u201cWhere are your ornaments? Leave the\npoor ones in the basket, and bring forth only the good ones, that I may\nsee them.\u201d\n\nThe children ran to the place where Binama kept his ornaments, and\nbrought forth a long necklace of shell money, also two shell armlets\nand a wooden bowl, and laid them before the Turtle. He forthwith wound\nthe necklace many times round his neck, and put on both the shell\narmlets. Moreover the bowl he fastened upon his back. Then he said to the\nchildren, \u201cYe behold me now richly attired. Watch while I run a little\nand back again, and tell me if the sight is a good one or no.\u201d\n\nThe children watched him crawl a few paces and called him to return. This\nthe Turtle did and all sat together in the shade of a tree. Then the\nTurtle crawled once more, and the children laughed to watch his ungainly\nform decorated with their father\u2019s ornaments. Again the Turtle returned\nto the children, but this time he did not sit with them. For on a sudden\nhe heard voices and knew the men were drawing near. Then he saw them as\nthey came forth, and ran swiftly to the sea. The children cried aloud to\ntheir father, \u201cCome, for the Turtle is running away!\u201d\n\nWhen Binama heard this cry, he and the Birds with him threw the sheaves\nof taro aside and gave chase to the runaway. But the Turtle had already\nreached the sea, and he hastened to dive. The Birds called, \u201cShow thyself\nnow. Lift up thy head.\u201d So the Turtle did so, and the angry Birds cast\ngreat stones into the sea, and the left armlet which the turtle wore was\nshattered. So he dived, but they called again, \u201cShow thyself. Lift up thy\nhead,\u201d and a stone fell upon the right armlet and broke it into small\npieces. Again they called, and again the Turtle raised himself in the\nwater, and this time the stones cut the string on which the necklace of\nshell money was threaded.\n\nAnd now for the last time came the call, \u201cShow thyself. Lift up thy\nhead.\u201d The Turtle once more raised himself and the Birds flung after him\nall the great stones they could find. They fell in scores upon the wooden\nbowl which had been carried away from Binama\u2019s home, but it was not\ndestroyed, nay, nor was it harmed at all. And the Turtle fled far over\nthe sea, nor was he seen again of Binama or his followers.\n\nBut since that day even until now, so our fathers have told us, all\nturtles carry upon their backs the bowl which in the old days was in the\nhouse of Binama.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LEGEND OF RATA\n\nBy Sir George Grey\n\n\nWahieroa had been treacherously slain by a chief named Matuku, so it\nbecame the duty of his young son Rata to revenge his father\u2019s death. By\nthe time he had grown up he had devised a plan for doing this, and gave\nthe necessary orders to his followers. He then started on a journey.\n\nArrived at the entrance to Matuku\u2019s place he found a Man sitting in the\ncourtyard who had been left in charge.\n\n\u201cWhere is the man who killed my father?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cHe lives down in the earth and I call to warn him when the new moon\nappears. That is when he comes upon earth to do battle.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow can he know when the proper time comes?\u201d\n\n\u201cI call to him in a loud voice.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen will there be a new moon?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn two nights. Return to your village, but come here again on the\nmorning of the second day.\u201d\n\nOn the morning appointed, Rata returned and found the Man sitting in the\nsame place.\n\n\u201cDo you know any spot where I can conceal myself from the enemy with\nwhom I am about to fight?\u201d he inquired.\n\nThe Man replied, \u201cCome with me and I will show you the two fountains of\nclear water.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis spot that we stand on,\u201d said the Man, when they arrived at the\nplace, \u201cis the place where Matuku rises up from the earth, and yonder\nfountain is the one on which he combs and washes his dishevelled hair;\nbut this fountain is the one he uses to reflect his face in while he\ndresses it. You can not kill him while he is at the fountain he uses to\nreflect his face in, because your shadow would also be reflected in it\nand he would see it; but at the fountain in which he washes his hair you\nmay smite and slay him.\u201d\n\n\u201cWill he make his appearance this evening?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\nThey had not waited long when the moon became visible and the Man told\nRata to hide himself near the brink of the fountain in which Matuku would\nwash his hair. Then he shouted aloud, \u201cHo, ho, the new moon is visible\u2014a\nmoon two days old.\u201d\n\nMatuku heard him and, seizing his two-handed wooden sword, rose from the\nearth. He laid his sword on the ground at the edge of the fountain where\nhe dressed his hair, and kneeling down on both sides of it he loosened\nthe strings which bound up his long locks, shook them out, and plunged\nhis head into the clear cool water. Rata crept out from where he lay hid,\nand rapidly moved up and stood behind him. As Matuku raised his head\nabove the water Rata with one hand seized him by the hair, while with\nthe other he smote and slew him.\n\n\u201cWhere shall I find the bones of my father?\u201d he next asked the Keeper.\n\n\u201cThey are not here; a strange people who live at a distance came and\ncarried them off.\u201d\n\nUpon hearing this reply Rata returned to his village to think matters\nover. He went to the forest and, having found a very tall tree that grew\nstraight throughout its entire length, he felled it and cut its noble\nbranching tops, intending to fashion the trunk into a canoe.\n\nThe Insects which inhabit trees and the Spirits of the Forest were very\nangry at this, and as soon as Rata had returned to the village, when\nhis day\u2019s work was done, they took the tree and raised it up again. The\nmultitude of Insects, Birds and Spirits worked away at replacing each\nlittle chip and shaving in its proper place, and sang as they worked:\n\n \u201cFly together, chips and shavings,\n Stick ye fast together,\n Hold ye fast together;\n Stand upright again, O tree.\u201d\n\nEarly the next morning Rata came back. When he got to the place where he\nhad left the trunk lying on the ground, he could not at first find it.\nThat fine tall straight tree, which he saw standing whole and sound, was\nthe same he thought he had cut down, and there it was now, erect again;\nhowever, he stepped up to it and, hewing away, he felled it to the ground\nonce more. Off he cut its fine branching top, and he began to hollow out\nthe hold of the canoe, and round off the prow and the stern into their\nproper, gracefully curved forms. In the evening when it became too dark\nto work, he returned to his village.\n\nAs soon as he was gone the multitudes of Insects, Birds and Spirits\nraised up the tree upon its stump once more. They sang as they worked,\nand when they had ended the tree again stood as sound as ever in its\nformer place in the forest.\n\nMorning dawned, and Rata returned once more to work at his canoe. When he\nreached the place was not he amazed to see the tree standing, untouched,\njust as he had first found it? Nothing daunted, however, he hews away at\nit again and down it topples, crashing to the earth. As soon as he saw\nthe tree on the ground Rata went off, as if going home, but turned back\nand hid himself in the underwood, in a spot whence he could peep out\nand see what took place. He had not been hidden long when he heard the\ninnumerable multitude of the children of Tane approaching singing their\nincantations, and at last they arrived at the place where the tree was\nlying on the ground.\n\nRata rushed upon them. He seized some of them, shouting: \u201cHa, ha, it is\nyou, is it, who have been exercising your magical arts upon my tree?\u201d\n\nThen the children of Tane all cried aloud in reply, \u201cWho gave you\nauthority to fell the forest god to the ground? You had no right to do\nso.\u201d\n\nWhen Rata heard this he was overcome with shame at what he had done. The\nchildren of Tane called out to him: \u201cReturn, O Rata, to thy village, we\nwill make a canoe for you,\u201d and Rata obeyed their orders without delay.\n\nThey were so numerous and each understood so well what to do that they\nhad no sooner begun to adze out a canoe, than it was finished. When the\ncanoe was afloat upon the sea, one hundred and forty warriors embarked on\nboard it and they paddled off to seek their foe.\n\nOne night, just at nightfall, they reached the fortress of their enemy.\nRata landed alone, leaving all his warriors on board. As he stole along\nthe shore he saw that a fire was burning on the sacred place where the\nenemy sacrificed to their gods. Without stopping he crept directly\ntowards the fire and hid behind some thick bushes. There were several\npriests, and to assist them in their magical arts they were using the\nbones of Wahieroa, knocking them together to beat time while repeating a\npowerful incantation known only to themselves.\n\nRata listened attentively to this incantation until he had learned it by\nheart, and when he was quite sure he knew it he rushed suddenly upon the\npriests. Being ignorant of the numbers of the enemy or whence they came,\nthey made little resistance and were in a moment overcome. The bones of\nhis father Wahieroa were then eagerly snatched up. He hastened with them\nback to the canoe, embarked on board it, and his warriors at once paddled\naway. Rata\u2019s task of avenging his father\u2019s death being thus ended, his\ntribe hauled up his large canoe on the shore and roofed it over with\nthatch to protect it from the sun and weather.\n\n\n\n\nWHY THE HIPPOPOTAMUS LIVES IN THE WATER\n\nBy Elphinstone Dayrell, F.R.G.S., F.R.A.I.\n\n\nMany years ago the Hippopotamus, whose name was Isantim, was one of the\nbiggest kings on the land; he was second only to the Elephant. The Hippo\nhad seven large fat Wives, of whom he was very fond. Now and then he used\nto give a big feast to the people, but a curious thing was that, although\nevery one knew the Hippo, no one, except his seven Wives, knew his name.\n\nAt one of the feasts, just as the people were about to sit down, the\nHippo said, \u201cYou have come to feed at my table, but none of you know my\nname. If you cannot tell my name you shall all of you go away without\nyour dinner.\u201d\n\nAs they could not guess his name, they had to go away and leave all the\ngood food behind them. Before they left, however, the Tortoise stood\nup and asked the Hippopotamus what he would do if he told him his name\nat the next feast? So the Hippo replied that he would be so ashamed of\nhimself that he and his whole family would leave the land, and for the\nfuture would dwell in the water.\n\nNow, it was the custom for the Hippo and his seven Wives to go down every\nmorning and evening to the river to wash and have a drink. Of this custom\nthe Tortoise was aware. The Hippo used to walk first, and the seven Wives\nfollowed. One day when they had gone down to the river to bathe, the\nTortoise made a small hole in the middle of the path, and then waited.\nWhen the Hippo and his Wives returned two of the Wives were some distance\nbehind, so the Tortoise came out from where he had been hiding and half\nburied himself in the hole he had dug, leaving the greater part of his\nshell exposed. When the two Hippo Wives came along, the first one knocked\nher foot against the Tortoise\u2019s shell, and immediately called out to her\nhusband, \u201cOh, Isantim, my husband, I have hurt my foot.\u201d At this the\nTortoise was very glad, and went joyfully home.\n\nWhen the next feast was given by the Hippo, he made the same condition\nabout his name; so the Tortoise got up and said, \u201cYou promise you will\nnot kill me if I tell you your name?\u201d and the Hippo promised. The\nTortoise then shouted as loud as he was able, \u201cYour name is Isantim,\u201d\nat which a cheer went up from all the people, and then they sat down to\ndinner.\n\nWhen the feast was over, the Hippo with his seven Wives, in accordance\nwith his promise, went down to the river, and they have always lived in\nthe water from that day till now. Although they come on shore to feed at\nnight, you never find a Hippo on the land in the daytime.\n\n\n\n\nWHY THE ELEPHANT HAS SMALL EYES\n\nBy Elphinstone Dayrell, F.R.G.S., F.R.A.I.\n\n\nWhen Ambo was King of Calabar, the Elephant was not only a very big\nanimal, but he had eyes in proportion to his bulk. In those days men and\nanimals were friends, and all mixed together quite freely. At regular\nintervals King Ambo used to give a feast, and the Elephant used to eat\nmore than any one, though the Hippopotamus used to do his best; however,\nnot being as big as the Elephant, although he was very fat, he was left a\nlong way behind.\n\nAs the Elephant ate so much at these feasts, the Tortoise, who was small\nand very cunning, made up his mind to put a stop to the Elephant eating\nmore than a fair share of the food provided. He, therefore, placed some\ndry kernels and shrimps, of which the Elephant was very fond, in his bag,\nand went to the Elephant\u2019s house to make an afternoon call.\n\nWhen the Tortoise arrived the Elephant told him to sit down, so he made\nhimself comfortable, and, having shut one eye, took one palm kernel and a\nshrimp out of his bag and commenced to eat them with relish.\n\nWhen the Elephant saw the Tortoise eating, he said, as he was always\nhungry himself, \u201cYou seem to have some good food there; what are you\neating?\u201d\n\nThe Tortoise replied that the food was sweet but was rather painful, as\nhe was eating one of his eyes; and he lifted up his head, showing one eye\nclosed.\n\nThe Elephant said, \u201cIf the food is so good, take out one of my eyes and\ngive me the same food.\u201d\n\nThe Tortoise, who was waiting for this, knowing how greedy the Elephant\nwas, said, \u201cI cannot reach your eye, you are so big.\u201d So the Elephant\ntook the Tortoise in his trunk and lifted him up, and with one quick\nscoop he had the Elephant\u2019s eye out. The Elephant trumpeted with pain,\nbut the Tortoise gave him some of the dried kernels and shrimps, and they\nso pleased the Elephant that he soon forgot the pain.\n\nSoon the Elephant said, \u201cThat food is so sweet I must have some more;\u201d\nbut the Tortoise told him that before he could have any the other eye\nmust come out. To this the Elephant agreed, and soon the Elephant was\nquite blind. The Elephant then began to make a great noise, and started\npulling trees down and doing much damage, calling out for the Tortoise.\nThe Tortoise had slid down the Elephant\u2019s trunk to the ground, and hid\nhimself.\n\nThe next morning when the Elephant heard the people passing, he asked\nthem what the time was, and the Bush Buck, who was nearest, shouted out,\n\u201cThe sun is now up, and I am going to market to get some yams and fresh\nleaves for my food.\u201d\n\nThen the Elephant perceived that the Tortoise had deceived him, and began\nto ask all the passers-by to lend him a pair of eyes, as he could not\nsee, but every one refused, as they wanted their eyes themselves. At last\nthe Worm grovelled past, and seeing the big Elephant, greeted him in his\nhumble way. He was much surprised when the King of the Forest returned\nhis salutation, and very much flattered also.\n\nThe Elephant said, \u201cLook here, Worm, I have mislaid my eyes. Will you\nlend me yours for a few days? I will return them next market-day.\u201d\n\nThe Worm was so flattered at being noticed by the Elephant that he gladly\nconsented, and took his eyes out\u2014which, as every one knows, were very\nsmall\u2014and gave them to the Elephant. When the Elephant had put the Worm\u2019s\neyes into his own large eye-sockets, the flesh immediately closed round\nthem so tightly that when the market-day arrived it was impossible for\nthe Elephant to get them out again to return to the Worm; and although\nthe Worm repeatedly made applications to the Elephant to return his eyes,\nthe Elephant always pretended not to hear, and sometimes used to say in a\nvery loud voice, \u201cIf there are any Worms about, they had better get out\nof my way, as they are so small I cannot see them, and if I tread on them\nthey will be squashed.\u201d\n\nEver since then the Worms have been blind, and for the same reason\nElephants have such small eyes, quite out of proportion to the size of\ntheir huge bodies!\n\n\n\n\nTHE BOY WHO SET A SNARE FOR THE SUN\n\nBy H. R. Schoolcraft\n\n\nAt the time when the animals reigned on the earth, they had killed all\nthe people but a Girl and her little brother; and these two were living\nin fear in an out-of-the-way place. The Boy was a perfect little pigmy,\nand never grew beyond the size of a mere infant; but the Girl increased\nwith her years, so that the task of providing food and shelter fell\nwholly upon her. She went out daily to get wood for the lodge-fire,\nand she took her little brother with her that no mishap might befall\nthem, for he was too little to leave alone. A big bird of a mischievous\ndisposition might have flown away with him. She made him a bow and\narrows, and one day she said to him: \u201cMy little brother, I will leave you\nbehind where I have been gathering the wood; you must hide yourself, and\nyou will soon see the snowbirds come and peck the worms out of the logs\nwhich I have piled up. Shoot one of them and bring it home.\u201d\n\nHe obeyed her, and tried his best to kill one, but he came home\nunsuccessful. His sister told him that he must not despair, but try again\nthe next day.\n\nShe accordingly left him at the gathering place of the wood, and returned\nto the lodge. Toward nightfall she heard his little footsteps crackling\nthrough the snow, and he hurried in and threw down, with an air of\ntriumph, one of the birds which he had killed. \u201cMy sister,\u201d said he, \u201cI\nwish you to skin it, and stretch the skin, and when I have killed more I\nwill have a coat made out of them.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut what shall we do with the body?\u201d said she; for they had always up to\nthat time lived upon greens and berries.\n\n\u201cCut it in two,\u201d he answered, \u201cand season our stew with one half of it at\na time.\u201d\n\nIt was their first dish of game, and they greatly relished it.\n\nThe Boy kept on in his efforts, and in the course of time he killed ten\nbirds, out of the skins of which his sister made him a pretty little\ncoat. As he was small, there was one bird skin to spare.\n\n\u201cSister,\u201d said he, one day, as he marched up and down before the lodge,\ndressed in his new coat and fancying himself the Greatest Little Fellow\nin the World\u2014as he was, for there was no other beside him\u2014\u201cMy sister, are\nwe really alone in the world, or are we making believe? Is there nobody\nelse living? And tell me, was all this great broad earth and this huge\nbig sky made for a little boy and girl like you and me?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy no means,\u201d she said. And then she explained to him that there were\nmany folks very unlike a harmless girl and boy, such as they were, who\nlived in another part of the earth, and that if he would live blameless\nand not endanger his life, he must never go where they were. This only\nserved to inflame the Boy\u2019s curiosity, and he soon took his bow and\narrows and went in that direction. After walking a long while and meeting\nno one, he became tired and stretched himself upon a high, green knoll,\nwhere the day\u2019s warmth had melted off the snow.\n\nIt was a charming place to lie upon, and he fell asleep. While he slept\nthe Sun beat so hot upon him that it singed his bird-skin coat and so\nshrivelled and shrunk it upon his body as to wake him up.\n\nWhen he saw the mischief the Sun\u2019s fiery beams had played with the coat\nhe was so proud of, he flew into a great rage and scolded the Sun in a\nterrible way for a little boy no higher than a man\u2019s knee. \u201cDo not think\nyou are too high for me to get you,\u201d said he; \u201cI shall revenge myself, oh\nSun. I will have you for a plaything yet.\u201d\n\nWhen he reached home he told his sister how unfortunate he had been, and\nbitterly bewailed the spoiling of his new coat. He would not eat, not so\nmuch as a single berry. He lay down, like one who fasts, without changing\nhis position for ten days, nor could his sister persuade him to get up.\nAt the end of ten days he turned over on the other side and lay in that\nposition for ten days.\n\nWhen he got up he was very pale, but very determined. He ordered his\nsister to make him a snare, as he meant to catch the Sun. She said she\nhad nothing, but presently she brought forward a deer\u2019s sinew, which\ntheir father had left, and made it into a string suitable for a noose.\nThe moment she showed it to her brother he said it would not do, and\nangrily bade her find something else. She said she had nothing else,\nbut presently remembered the bird\u2019s skin that had been left over when\nthe coat was made, and this she made into a string. With this the Boy\nwas more vexed than over the other. \u201cThe Sun has had enough of my bird\nskins,\u201d he said; \u201cfind something else.\u201d\n\nShe did not dare to say again that she had nothing, so she went out of\nthe lodge murmuring to herself, \u201cWas there ever so obstinate a boy?\u201d\nLuckily she thought of her hair, and pulling out some of it here and\nthere from among her beautiful black locks, she quickly braided it into a\nfine cord and handed it to her brother.\n\nThe moment his eye fell on it he was delighted, and immediately began to\nrun it back and forth through his hands, trying its strength. Satisfied\nthat the long, glossy coil was strong enough, he wound it around his\nshoulders and set out from the lodge a little after midnight, his object\nbeing to catch the Sun before he rose.\n\nHaving fixed his snare firmly at a place where the Sun must strike the\nland as it rose above the earth, he waited patiently. The instant it\nappeared he drew the cord tight, so that the Sun was held fast and could\nnot rise.\n\nSoon there was a great commotion among the animals who ruled the earth.\nThey had no light, and ran to and fro, calling out to each other and\nasking what had happened. They called together a council to discuss the\nmatter. An old Dormouse, suspecting what was the trouble, proposed that\nsome one should be appointed to go out and cut the cord. This was a bold\nthing to do, as the rays of the Sun would surely burn whoever ventured\nnear them. No one seemed willing to run the risk, so the Dormouse himself\nundertook to go. The Dormouse was, at this time, the largest animal in\nthe world. When he stood up he looked like a mountain.\n\nHe made haste to the place where the Sun lay ensnared, and as it came\nnearer and nearer its back began to smoke and burn with the heat, and the\nwhole top of its huge body was turned in a very short time to enormous\nheaps of ashes. The Dormouse did succeed, however, in cutting the cord\nwith its teeth, and the Sun blazed up into the high, blue sky, as\nbeautiful as ever.\n\nThe poor Dormouse paid the price of his bravery. So great was the heat of\nthe Sun, that he found himself, when it was all over, shrunk to a little\nbit of a thing, and that is the reason why the Dormouse is one of the\ntiniest creatures on the earth.\n\nThe Little Boy returned home, when he discovered that the Sun had escaped\nhis snare and devoted himself entirely to hunting. \u201cIf the beautiful hair\nof my sister would not hold the Sun fast, nothing in the world could,\u201d he\nsaid. \u201cI was not born, a little fellow like me, to look after the Sun. It\ntakes some one greater and wiser than I to do that.\u201d\n\nWhereupon he went out and shot ten more snowbirds, for at that he was\nvery expert, and had a new bird-skin coat made, which was prettier than\nthe one he had worn before.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BIRD LOVER\n\nBy Cornelius Mathews\n\n\nIn a region of country where the forest and the prairie strived which\nshould be the most beautiful\u2014the open plain, with its free sunshine and\nwinds and flowers, or the closed wood, with its delicious twilight-walks\nand enamored haunts\u2014there lived a wicked manito in the disguise of an old\nIndian.\n\nAlthough the country furnished an abundance of game, and whatever else\na good heart could wish for, it was the study of this wicked genius to\ndestroy such as fell into his hands. He made use of all his arts to decoy\nmen into his power, for the purpose of killing them. The country had been\nonce thickly peopled, but the Mudjee Monedo had so thinned it by his\ncruel practices, that he now lived almost solitary in the wilderness.\n\nThe secret of his success lay in his great speed. He had the power to\nassume the shape of any four-footed creature, and it was his custom to\nchallenge such as he sought to destroy, to run with him. He had a beaten\npath on which he ran, leading around a large lake, and he always ran\naround this circle so that the starting and the winning post was the same.\n\nWhoever failed, as every one had, yielded up his life at this post;\nand although he ran every day, no man was ever known to beat this evil\ngenius; for whenever he was pressed hard, he changed himself into a fox,\nwolf, deer, or other swift-footed animal, and was thus able to leave his\ncompetitor behind.\n\nThe whole country was in dread of this same Mudjee Monedo, and yet the\nyoung men were constantly running with him; for if they refused, he\ncalled them cowards, which was a reproach they could not bear. They would\nrather die than be called cowards.\n\nTo keep up his sport, the manito made light of these deadly foot-matches,\nand instead of assuming a braggart air, and going about in a boastful\nway, with the blood of such as he had overcome upon his hands, he adopted\nvery pleasing manners, and visited the lodges around the country as any\nother sweet-tempered and harmless old Indian might.\n\nHis secret object in these friendly visits was to learn whether the young\nboys were getting old enough to run with him; he kept a very sharp eye\nupon their growth, and the day he thought them ready, he did not fail to\nchallenge them to a trial on his racing-ground.\n\nThere was not a family in all that beautiful region which had not in this\nway been visited and thinned out; and the manito had quite naturally come\nto be held in abhorrence by all the Indian mothers in the country.\n\nIt happened that there lived near him a poor widow woman, whose husband\nand seven sons he had made away with; and she was now living with an only\ndaughter, and a son of ten or twelve years old.\n\nThis widow was very poor and feeble, and she suffered so much for lack\nof food and other comforts of the lodge, that she would have been glad\nto die, but for her daughter and her little son. The Mudjee Monedo had\nalready visited her lodge to observe whether the boy was sufficiently\ngrown to be challenged to the race; and so crafty in his approaches and\nso soft in his manners was the Monedo, that the mother feared that he\nwould yet decoy the son and make away with him as he had done with his\nfather and his seven brothers, in spite of all her struggles to save him.\n\nAnd yet she strove with all her might to strengthen her son in every good\ncourse. She taught him, as best she could, what was becoming for the\nwise hunter and the brave warrior. She remembered and set before him all\nthat she could recall of the skill and the craft of his father and his\nbrothers who were lost.\n\nThe widow woman also instructed her daughter in whatever should make her\nuseful as a wife; and in the leisure time of the lodge, she gave her\nlessons in the art of working with the quills of porcupine, and bestowed\non her such other accomplishments as should make her an ornament and a\nblessing to her husband\u2019s household. The daughter, Minda by name, was\nkind and obedient to her mother, and never failed in her duty. Their\nlodge stood high up on the banks of a lake, which gave them a wide\nprospect of country, embellished with groves and open fields, which waved\nwith the blue light of their long grass, and made, at all hours of sun\nand moon, a cheerful scene to look upon.\n\nAcross this beautiful prairie, Minda had one morning made her way to\ngather dry limbs for their fire; for she disdained no labor of the lodge.\nAnd while enjoying the sweetness of the air and the green beauty of the\nwoods, she strolled far away.\n\nShe had come to a bank, painted with flowers of every hue, and was\nreclining on its fragrant couch, when a bird, of red and deep-blue\nplumage softly blended, alighted on a branch near by, and began to pour\nforth its carol. It was a bird of strange character, such as she had\nnever before seen. Its first note was so delicious to the ear of Minda,\nand it so pierced to her young heart, that she listened as she had\nnever before to any mortal or heavenly sound. It seemed like the human\nvoice, forbidden to speak, and uttering its language through this wild\nwood-chant with a mournful melody, as if it bewailed the lack of the\npower or the right to make itself more plainly intelligible.\n\nThe voice of the bird rose and fell, and circled round and round, but\nwhithersoever floated or spread out its notes, they seemed ever to have\ntheir center where Minda sat; and she looked with sad eyes into the sad\neyes of the mournful bird, that sat in his red and deep-blue plumage just\nopposite to the flowery bank.\n\nThe poor bird strove more and more with his voice, and seemed ever more\nand more anxiously to address his notes of lament to Minda\u2019s ears, till\nat last she could not refrain from saying: \u201cWhat aileth thee, sad bird?\u201d\n\nAs if he had but waited to be spoken to, the bird left his branch, and\nalighting upon the bank, smiled on Minda, and, shaking his shining\nplumage, answered:\n\n\u201cI am bound in this condition until a maiden shall accept me in marriage.\nI have wandered these groves and sung to many and many of the Indian\ngirls, but none ever heeded my voice till you. Will you be mine?\u201d he\nadded, and poured forth a flood of melody which sparkled and spread\nitself with its sweet murmurs over all the scene, and fairly entranced\nthe young Minda, who sat silent, as if she feared to break the charm by\nspeech.\n\nThe bird, approaching nearer, asked her, if she loved him, to get her\nmother\u2019s consent to their marriage. \u201cI shall be free then,\u201d said the\nbird, \u201cand you shall know me as I am.\u201d\n\nMinda lingered and listened to the sweet voice of the bird in its\nown forest notes, or filling each pause with gentle human discourse;\nquestioning her as to her home, her family, and the little incidents of\nher daily life.\n\nShe returned to the lodge later than usual, but she was too timid to\nspeak to her mother of that which the bird had charged her. She returned\nagain and again to the fragrant haunt in the wood; and every day she\nlistened to the song and the discourse of her bird admirer with more\npleasure, and he every day besought her to speak to her mother of the\nmarriage. This she could not, however, muster heart and courage to do.\n\nAt last the widow began herself to have a suspicion that her daughter\u2019s\nheart was in the wood, from her long delays in returning, and the little\nsuccess she had in gathering the fire-branches for which she went in\nsearch.\n\nIn answer to her mother\u2019s questions, Minda revealed the truth, and\nmade known her lover\u2019s request. The mother, considering the lonely and\ndestitute condition of her little household, gave her consent.\n\nThe daughter, with light steps, hastened with the news to the wood. The\nbird lover of course heard it with delight, and fluttered through the air\nin happy circles, and poured forth a song of joy which thrilled Minda to\nthe heart.\n\nHe said that he would come to the lodge at sunset, and immediately took\nwing, while Minda hung fondly upon his flight, till he was lost far away\nin the blue sky.\n\nWith the twilight the bird lover, whose name was Monedowa, appeared at\nthe door of the lodge, as a hunter, with a red plume and a mantle of blue\nupon his shoulders.\n\nHe addressed the widow as his friend, and she directed him to sit down\nbeside her daughter, and they were regarded as man and wife.\n\nEarly on the following morning, he asked for the bow and arrows of those\nwho had been slain by the wicked manito, and went out a-hunting. As\nsoon as he had got out of sight of the lodge, he changed himself into\nthe wood-bird, as he had been before his marriage, and took his flight\nthrough the air.\n\nAlthough game was scarce in the neighborhood of the widow\u2019s lodge,\nMonedowa returned at evening, in his character of a hunter, with two\ndeer. This was his daily practice, and the widow\u2019s family never more\nlacked for food.\n\nIt was noticed, however, that Monedowa himself ate but little, and that\nof a peculiar kind of meat, flavored with berries, which, with other\ncircumstances, convinced them that he was not as the Indian people around\nhim.\n\nIn a few days his mother-in-law told him that the manito would come to\npay them a visit, to see how the young man, her son, prospered.\n\nMonedowa answered that he should on that day be absent. When the time\narrived, he flew upon a tall tree, overlooking the lodge, and took his\nstation there, as the wicked manito passed in.\n\nThe Mudjee Monedo cast sharp glances at the scaffolds so well laden with\nmeat, and as soon as he had entered, he said, \u201cWhy, who is it that is\nfurnishing you with meat so plentifully?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo one,\u201d she answered, \u201cbut my son; he is just beginning to kill deer.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, no,\u201d he retorted; \u201csome one is living with you.\u201d\n\n\u201cKaween, no indeed,\u201d replied the widow; \u201cyou are only making sport of my\nhapless condition. Who do you think would come and trouble themselves\nabout me?\u201d\n\n\u201cVery well,\u201d answered the manito, \u201cI will go; but on such a day I will\nagain visit you, and see who it is that furnishes the meat, and whether\nit is your son or not.\u201d\n\nHe had no sooner left the lodge and got out of sight, than the son-in-law\nmade his appearance with two more deer. On being made acquainted with\nthe conduct of the manito, \u201cVery well,\u201d he said, \u201cI will be at home the\nnext time, to see him.\u201d\n\nBoth the mother and the wife urged Monedowa to be aware of the manito.\nThey made known to him all of his cruel courses, and assured him that no\nman could escape from his power.\n\n\u201cNo matter,\u201d said Monedowa; \u201cif he invites me to the race-ground, I will\nnot be backward. What follows may teach him, my mother, to show pity on\nthe vanquished, and not to trample on the widow and those who are without\nfathers.\u201d\n\nWhen the day of the visit of the manito arrived, Monedowa told his wife\nto prepare certain pieces of meat, which he pointed out to her, together\nwith two or three buds of the birch-tree, which he requested her to\nput in the pot. He directed also that the manito should be hospitably\nreceived, as if he had been just the kind-hearted old Indian he professed\nto be. Monedowa then dressed himself as a warrior, embellishing his\nvisage with tints of red, to show that he was prepared for either war or\npeace.\n\nAs soon as the Mudjee Monedo arrived, he eyed this strange warrior whom\nhe had never seen before; but he dissembled, as usual, and, with a gentle\nlaugh, said to the widow, \u201cDid I not tell you that some one was staying\nwith you, for I knew your son was too young to hunt.\u201d\n\nThe widow excused herself by saying that she did not think it necessary\nto tell him, inasmuch as he was a manito, and must have known before he\nasked.\n\nThe manito was very pleasant with Monedowa, and after much other\ndiscourse, in a gentle-spoken voice, he invited him to the racing-ground,\nsaying it was a manly amusement, that he would have an excellent chance\nto meet there with other warriors, and that he should himself be pleased\nto run with him.\n\nMonedowa would have excused himself, saying that he knew nothing of\nrunning.\n\n\u201cWhy,\u201d replied the Mudjee Monedo, trembling in every limb as he spoke,\n\u201cdon\u2019t you see how old I look, while you are young and full of life. We\nmust at least run a little to amuse others.\u201d\n\n\u201cBe it so, then,\u201d replied Monedowa. \u201cI will oblige you. I will go in the\nmorning.\u201d\n\nPleased with his crafty success, the manito would have now taken his\nleave, but he was pressed to remain and partake of their hospitality. The\nmeal was immediately prepared. But one dish was used.\n\nMonedowa partook of it first, to show his guest that he need not fear,\nsaying at the same time, \u201cIt is a feast, and as we seldom meet, we must\neat all that is placed on the dish, as a mark of gratitude to the Great\nSpirit for permitting me to kill animals, and for the pleasure of seeing\nyou, and partaking of it with you.\u201d\n\nThey ate and talked, on this and that, until they had nearly dispatched\nthe meal, when the manito took up the dish and drank off the broth at a\nbreath. On setting it down he immediately turned his head and commenced\ncoughing with great violence. The old body in which he had disguised\nhimself was well nigh shaken in pieces, for he had, as Monedowa expected,\nswallowed a grain of the birch-bud, and this, which relished to himself\nas being of the bird nature, greatly distressed the old manito, who\npartook of the character of an animal or four-footed thing.\n\nHe was at last put to such confusion of face by his constant coughing,\nthat he was enforced to leave, saying, or rather hiccoughing as he left\nthe lodge, that he should look for the young man at the racing-ground in\nthe morning.\n\nWhen the morning came, Monedowa was early astir, oiling his limbs and\nenameling his breast and arms with red and blue, resembling the plumage\nin which he had first appeared to Minda. Upon his brow he placed a tuft\nof feathers of the same shining tints.\n\nBy his invitation his wife, Minda, the mother and her young son, attended\nMonedowa to the manito\u2019s racing-ground.\n\nThe lodge of the manito stood upon a high ground, and near it stretched\nout a long row of other lodges, said to be possessed by wicked kindred of\nhis, who shared in the spoils of his cruelty.\n\nAs soon as the young hunter and his party approached, the inmates\nappeared at their lodge-doors and cried out:\n\n\u201cWe are visited.\u201d\n\nAt this cry, the Mudjee Monedo came forth and descended with his\ncompanions to the starting-post on the plain. From this the course could\nbe seen, winding in a long girdle about the lake; and as they were now\nall assembled, the old manito began to speak of the race, belted himself\nup and pointed to the post, which was an upright pillar of stone.\n\n\u201cBut before we start,\u201d said the manito, \u201cI wish it to be understood\nthat when men run with me I make a wager, and I expect them to abide by\nit\u2014life against life.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery well\u2014be it so,\u201d answered Monedowa. \u201cWe shall see whose head is to\nbe dashed against the stone.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe shall,\u201d rejoined the Mudjee Monedo. \u201cI am very old, but I shall try\nand make a run.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery well,\u201d again rejoined Monedowa; \u201cI hope we shall both stand to our\nbargain.\u201d\n\n\u201cGood!\u201d said the old manito; and he at the same time cast a sly glance at\nthe young hunter, and rolled his eyes toward where stood the pillar of\nstone.\n\n\u201cI am ready,\u201d said Monedowa.\n\nThe starting shout was given, and they set off at high speed, the manito\nleading, and Monedowa pressing closely after. As he closed upon him, the\nold manito began to show his power, and changing himself into a fox he\npassed the young hunter with ease, and went leisurely along.\n\nMonedowa now, with a glance upward, took the shape of the strange bird of\nred and deep-blue plumage, and with one flight, lighting at some distance\nahead of the manito, resumed his mortal shape.\n\nWhen the Mudjee Monedo espied his competitor before him, \u201cWhoa! whoa!\u201d he\nexclaimed; \u201cthis is strange;\u201d and he immediately changed himself into a\nwolf, and sped past Monedowa.\n\nAs he galloped by, Monedowa heard a noise from his throat, and he knew\nthat he was still in distress from the birch-bud which he had swallowed\nat his mother-in-law\u2019s lodge.\n\nMonedowa again took wing, and, shooting into the air, he descended\nsuddenly with great swiftness, and took the path far ahead of the old\nmanito.\n\nAs he passed the wolf he whispered in his ear:\n\n\u201cMy friend, is this the extent of your speed?\u201d\n\nThe manito began to be troubled with bad forebodings, for, on looking\nahead, he saw the young hunter in his own manly form, running along at\nleisure. The Mudjee Monedo, seeing the necessity of more speed, now\npassed Monedowa in the shape of a deer.\n\nThey were now far around the circle of the lake, and fast closing in upon\nthe starting-post, when Monedowa, putting on his red and blue plumage,\nglided along the air and alighted upon the track far in advance.\n\nTo overtake him, the old manito assumed the shape of a buffalo; and he\npushed on with such long gallops that he was again the foremost on the\ncourse. The buffalo was the last change he could make, and it was in this\nform that he had most frequently conquered.\n\nThe young hunter, once more a bird, in the act of passing the manito, saw\nhis tongue lolling from his mouth with fatigue.\n\n\u201cMy friend,\u201d said Monedowa, \u201cis this all your speed?\u201d\n\nThe manito made no answer. Monedowa had resumed his character of a\nhunter, and was within a run of the winning-post, when the wicked manito\nhad nearly overtaken him.\n\n\u201cBakah! bakah! nejee!\u201d he called out to Monedowa; \u201cstop, my friend, I\nwish to talk to you.\u201d\n\nMonedowa laughed aloud as he replied:\n\n\u201cI will speak to you at the starting-post. When men run with me I make a\nwager, and I expect them to abide by it\u2014life against life.\u201d\n\nOne more flight as the blue bird with red wings, and Monedowa was so near\nto the goal that he could easily reach it in his mortal shape. Shining\nin beauty, his face lighted up like the sky, with tinted arms and bosom\ngleaming in the sun, and the parti-colored plume on his brow waving in\nthe wind, Monedowa, cheered by a joyful shout from his own people, leaped\nto the post.\n\nThe manito came on with fear in his face.\n\n\u201cMy friend,\u201d he said, \u201cspare my life;\u201d and then added, in a low voice, as\nif he would not that the others should hear it, \u201cGive me to live.\u201d And he\nbegan to move off as if the request had been granted.\n\n\u201cAs you have done to others,\u201d replied Monedowa, \u201cso shall it be done to\nyou.\u201d\n\nAnd seizing the wicked manito, he dashed him against the pillar of stone.\nHis kindred, who were looking on in horror, raised a cry of fear and fled\naway in a body to some distant land, whence they have never returned.\n\nThe widow\u2019s family left the scene, and when they had all come out into\nthe open fields, they walked on together until they had reached the\nfragrant bank and the evergreen wood, where the daughter had first\nencountered her bird lover.\n\nMonedowa, turning to the widow, said:\n\n\u201cMy mother, here we must part. Your daughter and myself must now leave\nyou. The Good Spirit, moved with pity, has allowed me to be your friend.\nI have done that for which I was sent. I am permitted to take with me the\none whom I love. I have found your daughter ever kind, gentle and just.\nShe shall be my companion. The blessing of the Good Spirit be ever with\nyou. Farewell, my mother\u2014my brother, farewell.\u201d\n\nWhile the widow woman was still lost in wonder at these words, Monedowa,\nand Minda, his wife, changed at the same moment, rose into the air, as\nbeautiful birds, clothed in shining colors of red and blue.\n\nThey caroled together as they flew, and their songs were happy, and\nfalling, falling, like clear drops. As they rose, and rose, and winged\ntheir way far upward, a delicious peace came into the mind of the poor\nwidow woman, and she returned to her lodge deeply thankful at heart for\nall the goodness that had been shown to her by the Master of Life.\n\nFrom that day forth she never knew want, and her young son proved a\ncomfort to her lodge, and the tuneful carol of Monedowa and Minda, as\nit fell from heaven, was a music always, go whither she would, sounding\npeace and joy in her ear.\n\n\n\n\nWUNZH, THE FATHER OF INDIAN CORN\n\nBy Cornelius Mathews\n\n\nIn time past\u2014we cannot tell exactly how many, many years ago\u2014a poor\nIndian was living, with his wife and children, in a beautiful part of the\ncountry. He was not only poor, but he was not expert in procuring food\nfor his family, and his children were too young to give him assistance.\n\nAlthough of a lowly condition and straitened in his circumstances, he was\na man of kind and contented disposition. He was always thankful to the\nGreat Spirit for everything he received. He even stood in the door of his\nlodge to bless the birds that flew past in the summer evenings; although,\nif he had been of a complaining temper, he might have repined that they\nwere not rather spread upon the table for his evening meal.\n\nThe same generous and sweet disposition was inherited by his eldest son,\nwho had now arrived at the proper age to undertake the ceremony of the\nfast, to learn what kind of a spirit would be his guide and guardian\nthrough life.\n\nWunzh, for this was his name, had been an obedient boy from his\ninfancy\u2014pensive, thoughtful, and gentle\u2014so that he was beloved by the\nwhole family.\n\nAs soon as the first buds of spring appeared, and the delicious fragrance\nof the young year began to sweeten the air, his father, with the help of\nhis younger brothers, built for Wunzh the customary little lodge, at\na retired spot at some distance from their own, where he would not be\ndisturbed during the solemn rite.\n\nTo prepare himself, Wunzh sought to clear his heart of every evil\nthought, and to think of nothing that was not good, and beautiful, and\nkindly.\n\nThat he might store his mind with pleasant ideas for his dreams, for the\nfirst few days he amused himself by walking in the woods and over the\nmountains, examining the early plants and flowers.\n\nAs he rambled far and wide, through the wild country, he felt a strong\ndesire to know how the plants and herbs and berries grew, without any\naid from man, and why it was that some kinds were good to eat, and that\nothers were possessed of medicinal or poisonous power.\n\nAfter he had become too languid to walk about, and confined himself\nstrictly to the lodge, he recalled these thoughts, and turning\nthem in his mind, he wished he could dream of something that would\nprove a benefit to his father and family, and to all others of his\nfellow-creatures.\n\n\u201cTrue,\u201d thought Wunzh, \u201cthe Great Spirit made all things, and it is to\nhim that we owe our lives. Could he not make it easier for us to get our\nfood, than by hunting animals and taking fish? I must try to find this\nout in my visions.\u201d\n\nOn the third day Wunzh became weak and faint and kept to his bed.\nSuddenly he fancied, as he lay thus, that a bright light came in at the\nlodge door, and ere he was aware, he saw a handsome young man, with a\ncomplexion of the softest and purest white, coming down from the sky,\nand advancing toward him.\n\nThe beautiful stranger was richly and gayly dressed, having on a great\nmany garments of green and yellow colors, but differing in their deeper\nor lighter shades. He had a plume of waving feathers on his head, and\nall his motions were graceful, and reminded Wunzh of the deep green of\nthe summer grass, and the clear amber of the summer sky, and the gentle\nblowing of the summer wind. Beautiful as the stranger was, he paused on a\nlittle mound of earth, just before the door of the lodge.\n\n\u201cI am sent to you, my friend,\u201d said his celestial visitor, in a voice\nmost soft and musical to listen to, \u201cI am sent to you by that Great\nSpirit who made all things in the sky, and on the earth. He has seen\nand knows your motives in fasting. He sees that it is from a kind and\nbenevolent wish to do good to your people, and to procure a benefit for\nthem; that you do not seek for strength in war, or the praise of the men\nof the bloody hand. I am sent to instruct you and to show you how you can\ndo your kindred good.\u201d\n\nHe then told the young man to arise, and to prepare to wrestle with him,\nas it was only by this means that he could hope to succeed in his wishes.\n\nWunzh knew how weak he was from fasting, but the voice of the stranger\nwas cheery, and put such a courage in his heart, that he promptly\nsprang up, determined to die rather than fail. Brave Wunzh! if you ever\naccomplish anything, it will be through the power of the resolve that\nspake within you at that moment.\n\nHe began the trial, and after a long-sustained struggle he was almost\noverpowered, when the beautiful stranger said:\n\n\u201cMy friend, it is enough for once, I will come again to try you\u201d; and\nsmiling on him, he returned through the air in the same direction in\nwhich he had come.\n\nThe next day, although he saw how sweetly the wild-flowers bloomed upon\nthe slopes, and the birds warbled from the woodland, he longed to see the\ncelestial visitor, and to hear his voice.\n\nTo his great joy he reappeared at the same hour, toward the going down of\nthe sun, and re-challenged Wunzh to a trial of strength.\n\nThe brave Wunzh felt that his strength of body was even less than on the\nday before, but the courage of his mind seemed to grow. Observing this,\nand how Wunzh put his whole heart in the struggle, the stranger again\nspoke to him in the words he used before, adding:\n\n\u201cTo-morrow will be your last trial. Be strong, my friend, for this is the\nonly way in which you can overcome me and obtain the boon you seek.\u201d\n\nThe light which shone after him as he left Wunzh was brighter than before.\n\nOn the third day he came again and renewed the struggle. Very faint\nin body was poor Wunzh, but he was stronger at heart than ever, and\ndetermined to prevail now or perish.\n\nHe put forth his utmost powers, and after a contest more severe than\neither of the others, the stranger ceased his efforts, and declared\nhimself conquered.\n\nFor the first time he entered Wunzh\u2019s little fasting lodge, and sitting\ndown beside the youth, he began to deliver his instructions to inform him\nin what manner he should proceed to take advantage of his victory.\n\n\u201cYou have won your desire of the Great Spirit,\u201d said the beautiful\nstranger. \u201cYou have wrestled manfully. To-morrow will be the seventh day\nof your fasting. Your father will give you food to strengthen you, and as\nit is the last day of trial you will prevail. I know this, and now tell\nyou what you must do to benefit your family and your people. To-morrow,\u201d\nhe repeated, \u201cI shall meet you and wrestle with you for the last time. As\nsoon as you have prevailed against me, you will strip off my garments and\nthrow me down, clean the earth of roots and weeds, make it soft, and bury\nme in the spot. When you have done this, leave my body in the earth, and\ndo not disturb it, but come at times to visit the place, to see whether\nI have come to life, and above all be careful to never let the grass or\nweeds grow upon my grave. Once a month cover me with fresh earth. If you\nfollow these my instructions you will accomplish your object of doing\ngood to your fellow-creatures by teaching them the knowledge I now teach\nyou.\u201d\n\nHe then shook Wunzh by the hand and disappeared, but he was gone so soon\nthat Wunzh could not tell what direction he took.\n\nIn the morning, Wunzh\u2019s father came to his lodge with some slight\nrefreshments, saying:\n\n\u201cMy son, you have fasted long enough. If the Great Spirit will favor you,\nhe will do it now. It is seven days since you have tasted food, and you\nmust not sacrifice your life. The Master of Life does not require that.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy father,\u201d replied Wunzh, \u201cwait till the sun goes down. I have a\nparticular reason for extending my fast to that hour.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery well,\u201d said the old man, \u201cI shall wait till the hour arrives, and\nyou shall be inclined to eat.\u201d\n\nAt his usual hour of appearing, the beautiful sky-visitor returned, and\nthe trial of strength was renewed. Although he had not availed himself\nof his father\u2019s offer of food, Wunzh felt that new strength had been\ngiven him. His heart was mighty within him to achieve some great purpose.\nCourage was like the eagle that spreads his wings within the treetop for\na great flight, within the bosom of the brave Wunzh.\n\nHe grasped his angel challenger with supernatural strength, threw him\ndown, and, mindful of his own instructions, tore from him his beautiful\ngarments and plume, and finding him dead, immediately buried him on the\nspot, using all the precautions he had been told of, and very confident\nwas Wunzh, all the time, that his friend would again come to life.\n\nWunzh now returned to his father\u2019s lodge, where he was warmly welcomed,\nfor as it had been appointed to him during the days of his fasting to\nwalk apart with Heaven, he was not permitted to see any human face save\nthat of his father, the representative to the little household upon\nearth of the Good Father who is in Heaven.\n\nWunzh partook sparingly of the meal that had been prepared for him, and\nonce more mingled in the cares and sports of the family. But he never\nfor a moment forgot the grave of his friend. He carefully visited it\nthroughout the spring, and weeded out the grass, and kept the ground in\na soft and pliant state; and sometimes, when the brave Wunzh thought of\nhis friend that was gone from his sight, he dropped a tear upon the earth\nwhere he lay.\n\nWatching and tending, and moistening the earth with his tears, it was not\nlong before Wunzh saw the tops of green plumes coming through the ground;\nand the more faithful he was in obeying his instructions in keeping the\nground in order, and in cherishing the memory of his departed friend, the\nfaster they grew. He was, however, careful to conceal the charge of the\nearth which he had from his father.\n\nDays and weeks had passed in this way; the summer was drawing toward a\nclose, when one day, after a long absence in hunting, Wunzh invited his\nfather to follow him to the quiet and lonesome spot of his former fast.\n\nThe little fasting-lodge had been removed, and the weeds kept from\ngrowing on the circle where it had stood; but in its place rose a tall\nand graceful plant, surmounted with nodding plumes and stately leaves,\nand golden clusters.\n\nThere was in its aspect and bearing the deep green of the summer grass,\nthe clear amber of the summer sky, and the gentle blowing of the summer\nwind.\n\n\u201cIt is my friend!\u201d shouted Wunzh, \u201cit is the friend of all mankind. It\nis Mondawmin; it is our Indian Corn! We need no longer rely on hunting\nalone, for as long as this gift is cherished and taken care of, the\nground itself will give us a living.\u201d\n\nHe then pulled an ear.\n\n\u201cSee, my father,\u201d said he, \u201cthis is what I fasted for. The Great Spirit\nhas listened to my voice, and sent us something new, and henceforth our\npeople will not alone depend upon the chase or upon the waters.\u201d\n\nWunzh then communicated to his father the instructions given to him by\nthe stranger. He told him that the broad husks must be torn away, as he\nhad pulled off the garments in his wrestling, and having done this, he\ndirected him how the ear must be held before the fire till the outer skin\nbecame brown\u2014as the complexion of his angel friend had been tinted by the\nsun\u2014while all the milk was retained in the grain.\n\nThe whole family, in high spirits, and deeply grateful to the Merciful\nMaster who gave it, assisted in a feast on the newly-grown ears of corn.\n\nSo came that mighty blessing into the world, and we owe all of those\nbeautiful fields of healthful grain to the dream of the brave boy Wunzh.\n\n\n\n\nWHEN BRER WOLF HAVE HIS CORN SHUCKING\n\nAnonymous\n\n\nBrer Wolf he make a powerful crop of corn one year, and he turn it over\nin his mind how he going to get all that corn shucked, \u2019cause Brer Wolf\nmighty unpopular man with his neighbors, and when Brer Wolf have a corn\nshucking the creeters don\u2019t turn out like they do when Sis Coon have a\ncorn shucking.\n\nBut Brer Wolf he have a powerful handsome daughter on the carpet. All the\nchaps about the county has had their heads set to step up to Brer Wolf\u2019s\ndaughter. So Brer Wolf he send out word how the chap what shucks the most\ncorn at his shucking shall have his handsome daughter.\n\nWell, the chaps they come from the fur end of Columbia County, and some\ncome from Richmond County, and they set to work, and they make the shucks\nfly, and each chap have a pile to hisself. Brer Coon he mighty set on\nBrer Wolf\u2019s daughter, and Brer Coon he know hisself are powerful likely\ncorn shucker, and Brer Coon he \u2019low to hisself how he have a right smart\nchance to get the gal.\n\nBrer Fox his head done plain turned when Miss Wolf role her handsome eyes\nat hisself; and so Brer Fox he get a pile to hisself and fall to work.\n\nNow old Brer Rabbit his heart set on the gal, but Brer Rabbit he are a\nmighty poor corn shucker. Brer Rabbit he just naterally know he don\u2019t\nstand no chance shucking a pile of corn and making time against Brer\nCoon.\n\nSo Brer Rabbit he don\u2019t waste hisself, Brer Rabbit don\u2019t, but he take his\nhat off and he go up to Brer Wolf, and he make his bow, and he ask Brer\nWolf, if he learn his daughter to dance, can he have her? But Brer Wolf\nhe say, \u201cWhat I said, I said.\u201d\n\nWell, Brer Rabbit he feel terrible put down, but he fall to, and he\nact most survigorous. He sing and he dance, and he dance and he sing,\nand he amuse the company most \u2019greeable like; and he sing before the\ngals, and he dance before the gals, and he show them the new step and\nthe new shuffle, Brer Rabbit do. Brer Coon he just turn his eye on Brer\nRabbit \u2019casionally, but he don\u2019t pay no attention to his acting and his\nfrolicking. Brer Coon he just make time with his corn shucking, twell\nBrer Coon\u2019s pile it make three times the pile of the other chaps.\n\nWhen it come time for Brer Wolf to come round and count his piles, Brer\nRabbit he set down \u2019long side Brer Coon, and he fall to shucking corn to\nbeat all. When Brer Wolf come \u2019round, Brer Rabbit he certainly do make\nthe shucks fly powerful \u2019cause the old rascal just been cutting up and\nacting all the evening, and he ain\u2019t tired like the other chaps.\n\nWhen Brer Wolf see the great pile so much bigger than what all the other\nchaps got, Brer Wolf he say, \u201cWhat for both you chaps shuck on one pile?\u201d\nBrer Coon he \u2019low that all his pile. He \u2019low, Brer Coon do, how Brer\nRabbit been cutting up and frolicking all the evening, and he just now\ncome and set down \u2019longside his pile.\n\nBrer Rabbit he say he swear and kiss the book, this my pile. Brer Coon he\njust been frolicking and going on all the evening to beat all; he make us\nlaugh nigh \u2019bout fit to kill ourselves while I done work my hands plum to\nthe bone. Now he set hisself down here and say it his pile.\n\nBrer Wolf he say he leave it to the company. But the chaps they don\u2019t\nwant Brer Rabbit to have the gal, and they don\u2019t want Brer Coon to\nhave the gal, so they won\u2019t take sides; they \u2019low they been working so\npowerful hard, they don\u2019t take noticement of Brer Coon or Brer Rabbit.\nThen Brer Wolf he \u2019low he leave it to the gals.\n\nNow Miss Wolf she been favoring Brer Rabbit all the evening. Brer Rabbit\ndancing and singing plum turned Miss Wolf\u2019s head, so Miss Wolf she say,\n\u201cIt most surely are Brer Rabbit\u2019s pile.\u201d Miss Wolf she say she \u201cplum\n\u2019stonished how Brer Coon can story so.\u201d\n\nBrer Rabbit he take the gal and go off home clipity, lipity. Poor old\nBrer Coon he take hisself off home, he so tired he can scarcely hold\nhisself together.\n\n\n\n\nBRER RABBIT\u2019S COOL AIR SWING\n\nAnonymous\n\n\nMr. Man he had a fine garden.\n\nBrer Rabbit he visit Mr. Man\u2019s garden every day to destroy the latest\nthing in it, twell Mr. Man plum wore out with old Brer Rabbit, Mr. Man he\nset a trap for old Brer Rabbit down \u2019longside the big road.\n\nOne day when Mr. Man going down to the cross-roads, he look in his trap,\nand sure \u2019nough, there old Brer Rabbit.\n\nMr. Man he say, \u201cOh, so old man, here you is. Now I\u2019ll have you for my\ndinner.\u201d\n\nMr. Man he takes a cord from his pocket, and tie Brer Rabbit high on a\nlimb of a sweet gum tree, and he leave Brer Rabbit swinging there twell\nhe come back from the cross-roads, when he aim to fotch Brer Rabbit home\nand cook him for his dinner.\n\nBrer Rabbit he swing this away in the wind and that away, and he swing\nthis away in the wind and that away in the wind, and he think he time\ndone come. Poor old Brer Rabbit don\u2019t know where he\u2019s at.\n\nPresently here come Brer Wolf loping down the big road. When Brer Wolf\nsee old Brer Rabbit swinging this away and that away in the wind, Brer\nWolf he stop short and he say, \u201cFore the Lord, man! What you doing up\nthere?\u201d Brer Rabbit he say, \u201cThis just my cool air swing. I just taking a\nswing this morning.\u201d\n\nBut Brer Rabbit he just know Brer Wolf going to make way with him. Brer\nRabbit he just turn it over in his mind which way he going to get to. The\nwind it swing poor Brer Rabbit way out this away and way out that away.\nWhile Brer Rabbit swinging, he work his brain, too.\n\nBrer Wolf he say, \u201cBrer Rabbit, I got you fast; now I going eat you up.\u201d\nBrer Rabbit he say, \u201cBrer Wolf, open your mouth and shut your eyes, and\nI\u2019ll jump plum in your mouth.\u201d So Brer Wolf turn his head up and shut his\neyes. Brer Rabbit he feel in his pocket and take out some pepper, and\nBrer Rabbit he throw it plum down Brer Wolf\u2019s throat. Brer Wolf he nigh\n\u2019bout \u2019stracted with the misery. He cough and he roll in the dirt, and he\nget up and he strike out for home, coughing to beat all. And Brer Rabbit\nhe swing this away and that away in the wind.\n\nPresently here come Brer Squirrel. When Brer Squirrel he see the wind\nswing Brer Rabbit way out this away and way out that away, Brer Squirrel\nhe that \u2019stonished he stop short. Brer Squirrel he say, \u201cFore the Lord,\nBrer Rabbit, what you done done to yourself this yer time?\u201d\n\nBrer Rabbit he say, \u201cThis yer my cool swing, Brer Squirrel. I taking\na fine swing this morning.\u201d And the wind it swing Brer Rabbit way out\nthis away and way back that away. Brer Rabbit he fold his hands and look\nmighty restful and happy, like he settin\u2019 back fanning hisself on his\nfront porch.\n\nBrer Squirrel he say, \u201cPlease, sir, Brer Rabbit, let me try your swing\none time.\u201d\n\nBrer Rabbit he say, \u201cCertainly, Brer Squirrel, you do me proud,\u201d and\nBrer Rabbit he make like he make haste to turn hisself loose. Presently\nBrer Rabbit he say, \u201cCome up here, Brer Squirrel, and give me a hand with\nthis knot,\u201d and Brer Squirrel he make haste to go and turn Brer Rabbit\nloose, and Brer Rabbit he make Brer Squirrel fast to the cord. The wind\nit swing Brer Squirrel way out this away and way out that away, and Brer\nSquirrel he think it fine.\n\nBrer Rabbit he say, \u201cI go down to the spring to get a fresh drink. You\ncan swing twell I come back.\u201d\n\nBrer Squirrel he say, \u201cTake your time, Brer Rabbit, take your time.\u201d Brer\nRabbit he take his time, and scratch out for home fast he can go, and he\nain\u2019t caring how long Brer Squirrel swing.\n\nBrer Squirrel he swing this away and he swing that away, and he think it\nfine.\n\nPresently here come Mr. Man. When Mr. Man he see Brer Squirrel, he plum\n\u2019stonished. He say, \u201cOh, so old man, I done hear of many and many of\nyour fine tricks, but I never done hear yourself into a squirrel before.\nPowerful kind of you, Brer Rabbit, to give me a fine squirrel dinner.\u201d\n\nMr. Man he take Brer Squirrel home and cook him for dinner.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FOUR SEASONS\n\nBy Lillian M. Gask\n\n\nThere was not a prettier cottage on the borders of the forest than that\nwhich was the home of Clare and Laura. A beautiful rose-tree clambered\nall over the little house, thrusting its clusters of small pink blossoms\nthrough the open windows, and nodding to Clare as though to say: \u201cYou are\nas sweet as we are, and the sun shines on us all.\u201d\n\nThe roses did not nod their heads at Laura, for she was as ugly and\nwicked as Clare was lovely. Her face wore always a heavy frown, which her\nmother\u2019s reflected; for Laura was her favorite child, and she could not\nbear to see that her second daughter, for whom she had no spark of love,\nshould be so much the more attractive of the two.\n\nDame Nature had been very kind to the little Clare. The roses had given\ntheir delicate coloring to her soft cheeks, and her pretty eyes were just\nthe hue of a purple pansy. The red of the crimson berries that glinted\namong the evergreens when winter came was not more vivid than that of her\nlips, and her hair had the sheen of yellow corn when the sun is smiling\non it. Laura could not look at her without a pang of envy, and longed to\ndrive her away from home.\n\nOne bitter day in winter, when a waste of snow surrounded the cottage,\nand frozen icicles hung from the roof, Laura asked her mother if Clare\nmight pick some violets in the woods for her.\n\n\u201c\u2018Violets?\u2019\u201d exclaimed the mother, \u201cat this time of the year? Why, you\nmust be dreaming, child! There is not a single flower in all the forest!\u201d\n\nBut Laura insisted that Clare should be sent to seek for the flowers,\nand, loath to refuse her anything, her mother did as she was asked.\n\n\u201cDo not come back without them, or it will be the worse for you,\u201d Laura\ncalled from the doorway, as she watched her little sister go shiveringly\ndown the pathway that led to the forest. In its depths, she knew, there\nlurked gaunt gray wolves, and these were fierce with hunger.\n\nClare knew this too, and her heart was faint with fear as she passed\nthrough the grove of fir-trees. A cheery little robin hopped down from\none of the branches, and sang a few bars of his winter song as if to\ncomfort her; she had gone but a few paces further when she saw the red\nof his breast repeated in a glimmer of ruddy light in the distance. She\nhastened towards it, and found it came from a huge fire, round which were\nsitting twelve strange men. The faces of all were kindly, but while three\nhad long white beards and snowy garments, three had golden beards and\nlong green garments, three had auburn beards and yellow garments, and yet\nanother triplet, with long black beards, were dressed in violet. One of\nthe three whose hair was frosted looked up as she approached.\n\n\u201cMay I warm myself at the fire, kind sir?\u201d she asked him timidly, and\nmaking room for her at once, he asked her why she wandered in the forest\nin such bitter weather.\n\n\u201cI was sent to pluck violets for my sister,\u201d Clare explained, \u201cand I dare\nnot go home without them, or she would be very angry.\u201d\n\nAt this her questioner turned to one of the three men who were robed in\npurple.\n\n\u201cViolets are your concern, Brother May. Cannot you help the poor little\nthing?\u201d he asked. \u201cShe will be frozen to death otherwise, for to-night\n\u2019twill be colder than ever.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo be sure I will,\u201d said Brother May, laying a gentle hand on Clare\u2019s\nfair hair; and taking the staff from the white-haired man, he poked the\nfire.\n\nThis was the signal for a most marvellous change in the forest. Ice and\nsnow disappeared, and the air became soft and balmy. Birds sang in the\nbranches overhead, and flowers sprang up as if by magic round the path\nwhich Clare had trodden. She filled her hands with fragrant violets, and\nthanked the brothers for their help.\n\n\u201cYou are welcome, dear child,\u201d they cried; and the old man took back his\nstaff again, and in his turn poked the fire. Once more it was winter, and\nClare hastened home to the cottage as quickly as she could.\n\nBoth Laura and her mother were surprised to see her, for they had made\nsure that she would lose her way. Laura snatched at the violets, only to\ntoss them aside, and was so unkind for the rest of the day that Clare\nsobbed herself to sleep.\n\nNext morning she was again sent out in the snow. This time it was to\nseek wild strawberries in the forest, and her sister\u2019s look was so full\nof meaning as she said, \u201cDo not come home without them!\u201d that the poor\nlittle maiden trembled with fear as well as with cold as she entered\nthe gloomy wood. The same friendly robin fluttered across her path, and\nfollowing the direction in which he flew, to her great delight she saw\nagain the ruddy glow of the fire. The twelve strange men were still\nseated round it, and Brother January took her by the hand.\n\n\u201cWhy are you here again, poor child?\u201d he asked her gently. \u201cIt would\nsurely be wiser for you to stay at home while King Frost reigns over the\nland, for you are young and tender, and his grip is very cruel.\u201d\n\n\u201cI had to come, sir,\u201d Clare explained. \u201cMy sister said she must have\nstrawberries. We gathered some in June last year.\u201d\n\nBrother January turned to a companion dressed in flowing yellow.\n\n\u201cStrawberries are your concern, Brother June,\u201d he said. \u201cIt is for you\nnow to come to the aid of our little friend.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will do so with pleasure,\u201d said Brother June, taking the staff held\nout to him, and giving the fire a vigorous poke. At this, the winter\ndisappeared, the trees sprang into full leaf, and crimson berries were\nseen amidst the creeping tendrils of the strawberry plant.\n\nClare gathered as much of the sweet fruit as she could carry, and once\nmore thanked her friends with a grateful smile.\n\n\u201cYou are welcome,\u201d they cried in chorus, and as Brother January took\nback his staff the winter once more spread its mantle over the earth.\n\nInstead of being grateful for the delicious fruit that Clare had brought\nher, Laura was more vexed than ever to find she had not been eaten by\nwolves. Her mother, too, looked at the poor girl angrily, and sent her\nout to the barn, as if she could no longer bear the sight of her.\n\nClare was barely awake next morning when she was told that she must go\nto the forest and bring home some apples for her sister Laura, who had a\nfancy for them.\n\n\u201cBut it\u2019s so dark, dear mother,\u201d cried Clare in terror.\n\n\u201cMake haste and go,\u201d was the only answer, and as quickly as her numbed\nfingers would allow her, Clare finished her simple toilet and started on\nher way.\n\nThe robin was still asleep with his head tucked under his wing, but a\ntiny wood-mouse poked out his head from his nest in the foot of a hollow\ntree, as he heard her footsteps upon the frozen snow.\n\n\u201cIf you walk straight on, you will find your friends,\u201d he squeaked, and\nClare thankfully followed his directions. Before long she was warming\nherself before the glowing fire, and the brothers were asking with much\nsympathy why she had again been sent to face the cold.\n\n\u201c\u2018Apples\u2019!\u201d cried Brother January, when she had told them. \u201cAh! it\u2019s your\nconcern now, Brother September.\u201d\n\nForthwith September poked the fire, and lo and behold! it was cheery\nautumn, and the ground was strewn with crimson and russet leaves. A tree\nof wild apples close beside her was laden with fruit.\n\nBrother September turned to the child with a kindly smile. \u201cGather two of\nthem,\u201d he said. Clare picked two of the largest and finest, and when she\nhad done so, September handed back his staff to January; he stirred the\nfire, and ice and snow reappeared.\n\nLaura made no effort to disguise her disappointment when Clare brought\nher the two apples. She ate them, however, and finding their flavor most\ndelicious, commanded her to fetch her hood and cloak. In spite of all\nthat her mother could say to dissuade her, she declared that she would go\nto the forest and gather some for herself.\n\n\u201cI shall find much finer ones than those you brought me, you greedy\ncreature!\u201d she said to Clare as she flounced away, refusing her gentle\noffer to go with her.\n\nThe sun shone brightly on the sparkling snow, and she took the same path\nthat her sister had done. The robin glanced at her from his bright dark\neyes, but he did not attempt to sing. He was frightened by something he\nsaw in her face; it was the spirit of greed and envy.\n\nAfter wandering about for some time, and, to her great disgust, finding\nnothing whatever in the way of fruit, Laura at last caught sight of\nthe fire, with the twelve little men sitting round. Without a word of\ngreeting, she pushed her way into their midst, and held out her hands\ntowards the glowing embers.\n\n\u201cWhat do you want?\u201d asked Brother January, somewhat nettled by her rude\nmanners.\n\n\u201cNothing from you!\u201d she answered roughly, scowling as she spoke. The old\nman poked the fire in silence, and the sky grew dark; a heavy snow storm\nbegan to fall, and Laura tried in vain to make her way home again, for\nthe great flakes, dropping silently one on another, made the path she had\ncome by impossible to tread. She stumbled at last into a great drift, and\nsoon was buried in its depths.\n\nHer mother grew more and more anxious about her as the day wore on, and\nwhen afternoon came set out to seek her in the forest. She also found\nher way to the glowing fire, and pushing aside Brother January just as\nher daughter had done, proceeded to warm her hands. When asked what she\nwanted, she gave the same rude answer, with the same result. The old man\npoked the fire, and the snow fell swiftly and silently. Very soon she too\nwas buried in a glistening bank, and Clare had neither mother nor sister\nleft.\n\nWith all their faults she had loved them fondly, and it would have been\nlonely for her in the cottage now, if it had not been for her friends of\nthe forest. As each month of the year came round, one paid her a visit,\nbringing flowers or fruit, or glorious crimson leaves. The white-bearded\nmen alone came empty-handed, but these sat with her beside the fire, and\ntold her wonderful stories of winter in many lands. In the course of time\nshe became a good and beautiful woman, and wedded a prince from a distant\nshore.\n\n\n\n\nTHE THREE LEMONS\n\nBy Lillian M. Gask\n\n\nA certain Sultan had a son of whom he was justly proud, for the young\nman was handsome and gay of temper, and had never been known to do an\nunworthy action. In the circle of the court he was the brightest star,\nand very sweet were the glances thrown him by the high-born ladies who\nserved the Sultan. The Prince was courteous to them all, but he favored\nno one, and as years went on, and he showed no signs of taking to himself\na wife, the Sultan became disturbed.\n\n\u201cMy son,\u201d he said, \u201cwhy do you not choose a bride? It is time you were\nmarried, for I should like to see you the father of children before I\ngo to my rest. Surely it would be easy to find a mate amidst these fair\nwomen you see around you? I should experience no difficulty were I in\nyour place.\u201d\n\nThe young Prince looked at him thoughtfully.\n\n\u201cI must have something more than any of them can give me, my father,\u201d he\nreplied, \u201cand if you really wish me to take a wife, I will go on a long\njourney, perhaps even round the world, and seek a princess whom I can\nlove. She must be fair as the morning, white as the snow, and as pure as\nan angel.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell said, my son,\u201d replied the Sultan. \u201cI wish you good fortune and a\nsafe return.\u201d And without more ado the Prince departed.\n\nThe air was crisp with frost, and the glittering crystals of the snow\nthrew back the radiance of the sunlight from bank to meadow. The waves\nthat tossed and tumbled on the distant shore seemed to beckon him towards\nthem, so he hastened to the coast, where he found a splendid vessel\nresting at anchor. While he was yet wondering how it had come there, and\nwhither it was bound, invisible hands drew him on board, and as his feet\ntouched the deck, the anchor lifted, and the ship set sail.\n\nFor three days and three nights it glided swiftly over the sea, steered\nby a shadowy pilot who spoke no word. On the morning of the fourth day\nit came to a stop beside a little islet, and the Prince was amazed to\nsee his favorite horse issue from the hold, ready saddled and bridled.\nConcluding that he was expected to land, he led the horse on shore, and\nwhen he turned round to take another look at the ship, it had completely\nvanished.\n\nNo sign of any habitation was to be seen, and the cold was so intense\nthat he could scarcely hold the reins. In spite of this, he rode on and\non, till at last he reached a small white house that stood by itself on\nthe top of a hill, unsheltered from the wind. He knocked at the door with\neager haste, hoping for the glimpse of a fire, and perhaps some food. His\nsummons was answered by a venerable woman with scanty hair like wisps of\nsnow, who stared at him inquiringly.\n\n\u201cI seek a wife, good mother,\u201d said the Prince. \u201cShe must be the most\nbeautiful princess in the world, and as good as she is beautiful. Can you\ntell me where to find her?\u201d\n\nThe old woman half shut the door. \u201cYou will not find her here,\u201d she said,\n\u201cfor I am Winter, and this is my kingdom. My sister Autumn perhaps may\nhelp you, but I have no time for thoughts of love. You will find her if\nyou go straight on.\u201d\n\nThe Prince thanked the old lady, and remounted his horse hoping that\nAutumn would at least give him rest and refreshment. After a while he\nfound that the snow had disappeared, and that luscious fruit now hung\nin clusters from the trees. The stubble of the corn tinted the fields\nwith gold, and the squirrels were busily engaged in storing nuts for the\nwinter. A little further on he came to a small brown house beside a wood,\nand, again dismounting, he knocked at the door. It was opened by a woman\nwith abundant dark hair and eyes like sloes. Her cheeks were ruddy, and\nher look was kind; she did not, however, ask him in.\n\n\u201cWhat are you seeking, young man?\u201d she inquired in a gentle voice.\n\n\u201cI seek a wife,\u201d he answered briefly.\n\n\u201cAh,\u201d she exclaimed, \u201cthen I cannot help you. My name is Autumn, and I\nam far too busy gathering fruit to have time to spare for such things as\nlove and marriage. My sister Summer is full of dreams, and she may find\nyou what you want.\u201d\n\nSo saying, she shut the door, and as there was nothing else for him to\ndo, the Prince resumed his journey.\n\nHe noticed ere long that the grass by the roadside was very tall, and\nthat the fields were heavy with corn ready for harvest. The air was so\nwarm that it touched his cheek caressingly, and the sun shone down so\nhotly that he was fain to unloose his coat. He was very glad when at last\nhe saw a small yellow house shaded by a group of trees. As he knocked\nat the door, he heard the sound of a distant waterfall, and the hope of\nquenching his thirst was more in his mind just then than the fairest wife\nin Summer\u2019s kingdom. His summons was answered by a stately woman crowned\nwith auburn tresses.\n\n\u201cI am sorry I cannot help you,\u201d she said, when he had told her the object\nof his journey, \u201cfor I too am very busy. Hasten you to my sister Spring;\nshe is the friend of lovers, and will surely aid you.\u201d\n\nSo the Prince went on till he saw a little green house in a bower\nof lilac. Hyacinths and violets, jonquils, narcissi, and fragrant\nlilies-of-the-valley bloomed beneath the windows, and when he knocked at\nthe door, a little lady with flaxen hair, and eyes of soft deep violet,\nappeared on the threshold.\n\n\u201cWon\u2019t you take pity on me?\u201d he asked her eagerly. \u201cYour sisters sent me\non to you. I seek a wife, who must be fair as the morning, white as the\nsnow, and pure as an angel from Heaven.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou ask a great deal,\u201d Spring told him, smilingly, \u201cbut I will do my\nbest for you. Come in and rest\u2014you must be tired and hungry.\u201d And to his\ngreat delight she ushered him into a long, low room, filled with the\nscent of flowers.\n\nWhen he had feasted on bread and honey, and quenched his thirst with\nsweet new milk, she brought him three fine lemons on a crystal tray.\nBeside them was a handsome silver knife, and a quaint gold cup of rare\ndesign.\n\n\u201cThese are magic gifts,\u201d she said, \u201cso guard them carefully. Return\nat once to your own home, and make your way to the great fountains in\nthe palace gardens. Having made quite sure that you are alone, take\nyour silver knife and cut open the first lemon. As you do so, a lovely\nprincess will instantly appear, and will ask you to give her water. If\nyou at once offer her some in this golden cup, she will stay with you and\nbe your wife, but should you hesitate, even for the space of a second,\nshe will vanish into thin air, and you will never see her again.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am not likely to be so foolish,\u201d said the Prince, \u201cbut if I do, shall\nI have no wife at all?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou must then cut open the second lemon,\u201d Spring answered gravely, \u201cand\nexactly the same thing will occur. If you hesitate this time also, and\nshe too disappears, you will have one more chance with the third lemon.\nShould your wits fail you a third time, you will die without a mate.\u201d\n\nThe Prince would have thanked her for her kindness, but she waved him\naway with a smile and a sigh, telling him not to delay. Full of joyful\nanticipation, he rode once more through the kingdoms of Summer, Autumn,\nand Winter, and when he arrived at the coast found the same stately\nvessel awaiting his pleasure. The wind was favorable on his homeward\nvoyage, and in a very short time he had once more gained the precincts\nof his father\u2019s palace. Giving his horse into the care of a groom, he\nhurried into the great gardens, and when he had filled Spring\u2019s gold cup\nwith water from the splashing fountains, cut open the first lemon. He had\nno sooner done so than a most exquisite Princess appeared before him, and\nwith a timid glance asked him to give her water.\n\n\u201cI am thirsty,\u201d she murmured. \u201cWill you not let me drink from your golden\ncup?\u201d\n\nThe Prince was so lost in admiration that he could only gaze at her, and\nwith a gesture of reproach the lovely maiden vanished. It was in vain\nthat he lamented his stupidity. Do as he would, he could not call her\nback again, and with many regrets he cut the rind of the second lemon.\nOnce more the gleaming spray of the dancing fountains took the form of a\nbeautiful girl.\n\n\u201cFair as the morning and white as snow!\u201d cried the Prince in rapture,\ntoo delighted to heed her request for a cup of water. He did not regain\nhis senses until she also had disappeared, when he again bewailed his\nneglect of Spring\u2019s injunctions. With trembling fingers he inserted\nthe silver knife into the third lemon, and as the pungent odor of the\ngolden fruit escaped into the air another Princess appeared before him.\nClosing his eyes, lest they might be dazzled by her exceeding beauty, he\nimmediately offered the golden cup. The maiden raised it to her lips with\na bewitching smile, and drained it to its dregs. The Prince laughed aloud\nfor joy; now at last he had found the bride he sought.\n\nNo summer morning was fairer than she, for the whiteness of snow gleamed\non chin and brow, and her expression was pure and gentle as an angel\u2019s.\nDrawing her down beside him on to a flowery bank, he held her hand and\nlooked into her eyes.\n\n\u201cWill you be my wife?\u201d he whispered, and to his delight she answered,\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\nWhen his first raptures were over, he noticed, with some disappointment,\nthe simplicity of his bride\u2019s gown. It was of some simple stuff the color\nof running water, and hung in long flowing folds round her lissom form.\nNo necklace broke the outline of her dainty throat, and she looked so\ndifferent from the maidens of the court that the Prince, who, after all,\nwas only a man, and not, perhaps, a very wise one, felt that something\nwas lacking to complete her beauty.\n\n\u201cYour robe is not worthy of you, dear love,\u201d he cried. \u201cIf you wait\nfor me here, I will fetch you one of rich white satin from my father\u2019s\npalace, and a rope of pearls to twine around your neck.\u201d\n\nBut the Princess knew that she needed no ornaments to enhance her beauty,\nand she did not wish him to leave her. Her lover, however, was so\ninsistent that she consented to stay by the fountains while he went home,\nand, more in love with her than ever, he hurried away.\n\nNow the Princess was very timid, and as the Prince tarried long she grew\nfrightened of being alone. So she stretched out her arms to a tree above\nher, and swung herself up that she might nestle amidst its branches.\nThe foliage hid her slender limbs in their flowing draperies, but her\nexquisite face gleamed like a flower from a setting of glossy leaves, and\nwas mirrored in the deep basin of the fountains. An ugly negress who\ncame to fill her pitcher caught sight of its loveliness, and, since she\nhad never gazed into a mirror believed it to be her own.\n\n\u201cOh, how very handsome I am!\u201d she murmured. \u201cI am far too beautiful to do\nthe bidding of any mistress. I will never draw water again.\u201d And flinging\nthe pitcher from her, she strutted home with the air of a peacock.\n\n\u201cWhy have you come back empty-handed, Deborah?\u201d inquired her mistress.\n\n\u201cI have seen my face in the fountain,\u201d was the reply, \u201cand I am much too\nlovely to fetch and carry like a poor slave.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, you are as ugly as sin!\u201d her mistress retorted sharply. \u201cGo back at\nonce, and do as you are told.\u201d\n\nDeborah fetched another pitcher and went back to the fountains, grumbling\nthe while. Again she caught sight of the Princess\u2019s face reflected in the\nwater, and again her swarthy features became distorted with pride.\n\n\u201cIt is true!\u201d she cried. \u201cI am lovely as a dream. I will marry a prince,\nand live in a palace.\u201d With this she threw down the second pitcher, and\nflounced into her mistress\u2019s presence with such an assumption of dignity\nthat that lady burst out laughing.\n\n\u201cIf you only knew how ugly you are,\u201d she cried, when she could speak,\n\u201cyou would never talk such ridiculous nonsense.\u201d And daring her to return\nagain without the water, she handed the mortified woman a third pitcher,\nand sent her back to the fountain.\n\nThe flower-like face of the fair Princess smiled back at the angry\nnegress as she bent over the pool, and the poor creature grinned and\nogled.\n\n\u201cBut I am handsome,\u201d she cried triumphantly. \u201cAs handsome as a queen.\u201d\n\nShe spoke so loudly that the Princess heard her, and her laugh rang out\nlike a peal of bells. Looking hastily up, the negress saw her in the\nbranches, and disappointed vanity rendered her almost speechless.\u2026 Her\nmistress was right then, after all, and the lovely vision she had seen in\nthe water was not the reflection of herself. As she stared upward with\ndilated eyes, there came to her thoughts of revenge.\n\n\u201cI will make her suffer for this,\u201d she murmured, but wreathing her wide\nlips in a false smile, she bade the Princess \u201cGood-morrow.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy do you hide in a tree, lovely lady?\u201d she asked her gently.\n\n\u201cI am waiting for my Prince, who has gone to fetch me a satin robe, and a\nrope of pearls to twine round my neck,\u201d answered the Princess shyly.\n\n\u201cYour golden hair has been tossed by the wind,\u201d remarked the negress.\n\u201cLet me come up beside you, and I will make it smooth. It will not do to\nlook untidy when your Prince arrives!\u201d\n\n\u201cHow kind you are!\u201d said the Princess, and as she bent her silken head\ntowards the negress, the treacherous woman stabbed it with a long sharp\npin.\n\nThe Princess fell back, faint with pain, but before her body could touch\nthe ground she turned into a snow-white pigeon, and flew off uttering\nplaintive cries.\n\nThe negress took her place in the tree, and when at last the Prince\nappeared, bearing a satin robe and a bridal veil, it was she whom he saw\nlooking down on him.\n\n\u201cWhere is my sweet Princess?\u201d he asked. \u201cShe is fair as the morning, and\nwhite as snow. What have you done with her?\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas! dear Prince,\u201d answered the negress sadly, \u201cwhile you were away\nan enchantress came and changed me into my present form. When you have\nproved your love by making me your wife, I shall, in three days\u2019 time,\nonce more become a fair and beautiful Princess; but if you desert me, I\nmust remain forever hideous.\u201d\n\nAlthough the sight of her filled him with repulsion, the Prince was a\nman of honor, and would not break his word. Calling the ladies who were\nwaiting in the carriage which he had brought to convey his bride to the\npalace, he bade them array her in the satin gown, and, pretending not to\nsee their astonishment and disgust, drove back with her to his father,\nintroducing her as his promised wife.\n\nThe Sultan was naturally horrified at her appearance, but when the Prince\nexplained to him how matters stood, he agreed that he must marry her, and\nhope for the best.\n\nWhile the father and son talked thus together, the negress wandered over\nthe palace, giving unnecessary orders to the servants, and making herself\nhateful to all. She even ventured into the great kitchens, and commanded\nthe chief cook to prepare rich viands for her wedding ceremonies. As she\nissued her orders in a loud, harsh voice, she passed by the window, and\nnoticed a slim white pigeon sitting on the sill.\n\n\u201cKill me that bird,\u201d she cried, \u201cand cook it for my supper.\u201d\n\nNot daring to disobey her, the chief cook killed it immediately, plunging\na sharp knife into its snowy breast. Three drops of blood fell from the\nwindow-sill into the courtyard, and a tiny seedling sprang from each of\nthese. As if a fairy had waved her wand, they grew into trees of fragrant\nblossom, and in less time than it takes to tell, the blossoms turned into\ngolden lemons.\n\nMeanwhile the Prince was seeking for his bride, for since he had set\nhimself so distasteful a task, he wished to perform it well.\n\n\u201cShe is in the kitchen, your Royal Highness,\u201d he was informed by one of\nhis shocked courtiers, and in going to meet her, the Prince passed under\nthe lemon-trees. The sight of their fruit brought him a ray of hope,\nand gathering three of the finest that he could find, he hastened with\nthem to his own room, where, having filled the golden cup with water, he\nplunged the blade of the silver knife into the rind of the first lemon.\n\nAs before, a beautiful girl appeared, and stretched out her fair hands\nfor the golden cup.\n\n\u201cAh, no!\u201d he cried. \u201cYou are very charming, but you are not my Princess.\u201d\n\nHe cut the rind of a second lemon, and as he did so the second Princess\ntook form before him. He shook his head at her mute entreaty for a cup of\nwater, and she too disappeared. Then he cut the rind of the third lemon,\nand lo, his own Princess was once more in his arms!\n\nGreat was the joy and relief of the old Sultan when he heard from the\nPrince that this beautiful girl was his real bride, but he listened\nwith a frown of anger as she told them all that had happened when her\nlover left her by the fountain. He ordered the negress to be immediately\nbrought before him, and, regarding her very sternly, asked her what she\nwould think a fitting punishment for an affront offered to the future\nwife of his dear son.\n\n\u201cNothing less than death,\u201d declared the negress, \u201cand death by burning.\nLet the offender be cast into your Majesty\u2019s oven, and the great door\nshut.\u201d\n\n\u201cMadam, you have passed sentence on yourself,\u201d replied the Sultan dryly,\nand, shrieking with terror, the negress was led away.\n\nBut the sweet Princess would not let her suffer.\n\n\u201cShe is but a poor ignorant woman,\u201d she said, \u201cand it must be sad to be\nso ugly. Set her free, I entreat you, and let her go. This is the boon I\nask you for my wedding gift.\u201d\n\nThe Sultan could not refuse his new daughter\u2019s first request, and the\nPrince regarded her fondly.\n\n\u201cI saw you were fair as morning, and white as snow,\u201d he murmured, \u201cand\nnow I know that you are sweet as an angel.\u201d\n\nAnd though the years to come brought him trouble and sorrow as well as\njoy, he was indeed blest. Beloved of all, his Princess wielded a gentle\nsway, and he never saw the fruit of a lemon without sending a grateful\nthought to Spring for the magic gifts by which he had fared so well.\n\n\n\n\nTHE WINTER-SPIRIT AND HIS VISITOR\n\nBy Cornelius Mathews\n\n\nAn old man was sitting alone in his lodge by the side of a frozen stream.\nIt was the close of winter, and his fire was almost out. He appeared very\nold and very desolate. His locks were white with age, and he trembled in\nevery joint. Day after day passed in solitude, and he heard nothing but\nthe sounds of the tempest, sweeping before it the new-fallen snow.\n\nOne day as his fire was just dying, a handsome young man approached and\nentered his dwelling. His cheeks were red with the blood of youth; his\neyes sparkled with life, and a smile played upon his lips. He walked with\na light and quick step. His forehead was bound with a wreath of sweet\ngrass, in place of the warrior\u2019s frontlet, and he carried a bunch of\nflowers in his hand.\n\n\u201cAh! my son,\u201d said the old man, \u201cI am happy to see you. Come in. Come,\ntell me of your adventures, and what strange lands you have been to\nsee. Let us pass the night together. I will tell you of my prowess and\nexploits, and what I can perform. You shall do the same, and we will\namuse ourselves.\u201d\n\nHe then drew from his sack a curiously-wrought antique pipe, and having\nfilled it with tobacco, rendered mild by an admixture of certain dried\nleaves, he handed it to his guest.\n\nWhen this ceremony was attended to, they began to speak.\n\n\u201cI blow my breath,\u201d said the old man, \u201cand the streams stand still. The\nwater becomes stiff and hard as clear stone.\u201d\n\n\u201cI breathe,\u201d said the young man, \u201cand flowers spring up all over the\nplains.\u201d\n\n\u201cI shake my locks,\u201d retorted the old man, \u201cand snow covers the land. The\nleaves fall from the trees at my command, and my breath blows them away.\nThe birds rise from the water and fly to a distant land. The animals hide\nthemselves from the glance of my eye, and the very ground where I walk\nbecomes as hard as flint.\u201d\n\n\u201cI shake my ringlets,\u201d rejoined the young man, \u201cand warm showers of\nsoft rain fall upon the earth. The plants lift up their heads out of\nthe ground like the eyes of children glistening with delight. My voice\nrecalls the birds. The warmth of my breath unlocks the streams. Music\nfills the groves wherever I walk, and all nature welcomes my approach.\u201d\n\nAt length the sun begun to rise. A gentle warmth came over the place. The\ntongue of the old man became silent. The robin and the bluebird began to\nsing on the top of the lodge. The stream began to murmur by the door,\nand the fragrance of growing herbs and flowers came softly on the vernal\nbreeze.\n\nDaylight fully revealed to the young man the character of his\nentertainer. When he looked upon him he had the visage of Peboan, the\nicy old Winter-Spirit. Streams began to flow from his eyes. As the sun\nincreased he grew less and less in stature, and presently he had melted\ncompletely away. Nothing remained on the place of his lodge-fire but\nthe miskodeed, a small white flower with a pink border, which the young\nvisitor, Seegwun, the Spirit of Spring, placed in the wreath upon his\nbrow, as his first trophy in the North.","title":"The Junior Classics, Volume 2: Folk Tales and Myths","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":136484}