{"collection":"folklore-oral-tradition","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_69875/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_69875","id":"gutenberg_69875","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/69875","summary":null,"tags":["Category: British Literature","Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Science-Fiction & Fantasy","Category: Short Stories","Children's stories","Fairy tales"],"text":"Transcriber\u2019s Note: Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: \u201cIndeed,\u201d said the Duke, \u201cI should not have thought you\nso very pretty.\u201d\n\n  [_Vain Kesta_, _p._ 43.]\n\n\n\n\n  THE WINDFAIRIES\n  _AND OTHER TALES_\n\n  BY\n  MARY DE MORGAN\n  AUTHOR OF \u201cON A PINCUSHION,\u201d \u201cTHE NECKLACE OF PRINCESS FIORIMONDE.\u201d\n\n  WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY\n  OLIVE COCKERELL\n\n  LONDON\n  SEELEY AND CO. LIMITED\n  38 GREAT RUSSELL STREET\n  1900\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  TO ANGELA\n  DENNIS\n  AND CLARE\n  THESE LITTLE TALES\n  ARE DEDICATED\n  BY THEIR WRITER]\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n                               PAGE\n\n  THE WINDFAIRIES                 1\n\n  VAIN KESTA                     35\n\n  THE POOL AND THE TREE          52\n\n  NANINA\u2019S SHEEP                 65\n\n  THE GIPSY\u2019S CUP                81\n\n  THE STORY OF A CAT            128\n\n  DUMB OTHMAR                   147\n\n  THE RAIN MAIDEN               192\n\n  THE PLOUGHMAN AND THE GNOME   209\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  THE WIND\n  FAIRIES]\n\n\nTHERE was once a windmill which stood on the downs by the sea, far\nfrom any town or village, and in which the miller lived alone with his\nlittle daughter. His wife had died when the little girl, whose name was\nLucilla, was a baby, and so the miller lived by himself with his child,\nof whom he was very proud. As her father was busy with his work, and\nas little Lucilla had no other children to play with, she was alone\nnearly all day, and had to amuse herself as best she could, and one\nof her greatest pleasures was to sit and watch the great sails of the\nwindmill figures like them, and they held each other by the hand, and\nwere dancing and springing from the ground as lightly as if they had\nbeen made of feather-down.\n\n\u201cCome, sisters, come,\u201d cried the one nearest Lucilla. \u201cSee, here is a\nlittle human child out here alone at twelve o\u2019clock at night. Come and\nlet us play with her.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho are you?\u201d asked Lucilla; \u201cmy name is Lucilla, and I live in the\nmill with my father.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe are windfairies,\u201d said the first grey figure.\n\n\u201cWindfairies!\u201d said Lucilla, \u201cwhat are they?\u201d\n\n\u201cWe blow the winds and sweep the earth. When there are many of us\ntogether we make a great hurricane, and human beings are frightened. We\nit is who turn your mill wheel for you, and make all the little waves\non the sea. See, if you will come with us we will take you for a ride\non one of the sails of your mill. That is, if you will be brave, and\nnot cry.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will not cry one bit,\u201d said Lucilla, and she sprang up, and held out\nher arms.\n\nAt once she was lifted up, and felt herself going higher and higher,\ntill she rested on one of the great windmill sails, and, with the\nlittle grey elves beside her, was sweeping through the air, clinging to\nthe sail.\n\n\u201cShe is quite good,\u201d whispered one, as she held Lucilla in her tiny\nwhite arms. \u201cI really think we might teach her to dance, for she has\nnot cried at all.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, she would surely tell some one if we did,\u201d said another. \u201cLittle\nhuman child, would you like us to teach you how to dance as we dance?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes,\u201d cried Lucilla; and now they were sweeping down near the\nground, and the fairies slid off the sail with Lucilla in their arms,\nand let her slide gently to earth. \u201cTeach me to dance, I beg. I will\nnever tell anybody.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, but that is what all mortals say,\u201d whispered one who had not\nspoken yet, \u201cno mortal can keep a secret. Never yet was one known who\ncould be silent.\u201d\n\n\u201cTry me,\u201d cried Lucilla again, \u201cI will never tell. Indeed I will not,\u201d\nand she looked entreatingly from one to another of the elves.\n\n\u201cBut if you did,\u201d said they, \u201cif you broke your promise to us when\nonce you had made it, we should punish you severely.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut I promise faithfully,\u201d repeated Lucilla, \u201cI will never tell any\none.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell then, you may try,\u201d they said. \u201cOnly remember, if you break\nyour word to us, and tell any mortal who it was that taught you how\nto dance, you will never dance again, for your feet will become heavy\nas lead, and not only that, but some great misfortune will overtake\nwhatever you love best in this world. But if you keep faith with us,\nthen the windfairies will never forget you, but will come to your help\nin your direst hour of need.\u201d\n\n\u201cTeach me, teach me,\u201d cried Lucilla; \u201cindeed I will never, never tell,\nand I long to dance as you do.\u201d\n\n\u201cCome then,\u201d they said, and some came behind her, and some went in\nfront of her, and some took her arms and some her feet, and all at\nonce Lucilla felt as if she were made of feather-down. She swayed up\nand down as lightly as they, and it seemed to her quite easy. Never\nhad she been so happy, and she would gladly have danced for hours, but\nsuddenly, just as the sun was beginning to show a red light in the\nsky, she heard her father\u2019s horse galloping over the downs, and in an\ninstant the windfairies had vanished.\n\nWhen the miller came up to her, he was angry with her for being out on\nthe grass instead of warm in bed, but Lucilla dared not tell him what\nhad kept her, or say that she had been playing with windfairies.\n\nYears passed, and Lucilla never saw the windfairies again, though she\nwatched for them every night. She grew up to be a beautiful young\nwoman, and her father was very proud of her. She was as tall and as\nlithe as a willow wand, and when she ran or danced it seemed as if she\nwere as light as a feather blown in the wind. There were few people\nto see her, or tell her she was beautiful, for save the fisher folk\nwho lived in little cottages on the beach, scarce anybody came to the\ndowns. But all who saw her admired her beauty, and most of all her\nwonderful dancing. Sometimes she would go out on the downs, and dance\nand run there by herself, and her father would look at her and say:\n\u201cHeaven help the maid! I don\u2019t know whom she has learned it from, but\nI have never seen a dancer who can come nigh her.\u201d Then sometimes she\nwould go down to the sea-shore, and this she loved to do best of all,\nand there she would dance with the waves, and move with them as they\nslid up to her feet and drew back, and to those who watched, it seemed\nas if she and they were one together.\n\nThe time came when her father wished her to be married, and among the\nyoung fishermen and the country folk who came to the mill from the\nfarms across the country, she had suitors enough, but always she said\nwhen a young man came to woo her, \u201cFirst let me see how you can dance,\nfor as dancing is the thing I love best in the world, it would be a\npity that I and my husband should not be able to dance together,\u201d and\nas none of them could dance as she did, she sent them all away, saying\nshe would wait for a husband till she could find a man who could dance\nto her liking.\n\nBut one day there was a great storm, and a big ship was blown on to\nthe shore close to the mill, and among the sailors was a young fellow\nwith black curly hair and bright eyes and white teeth, and when he saw\nLucilla, he said to himself, \u201cI will wed that girl and take her home\nfor my wife.\u201d So one day as they sat on the downs together he begged\nher to marry him, and go back with him to his own land; he said he\nwould give up going to sea, and would live with her in a little cottage\nand make their bread by fishing. Then Lucilla said, as she had said\nto all her other suitors, \u201cFirst let me see how you can dance, for I\nwill never marry any man who cannot dance with me.\u201d The sailor swore he\ncould dance as well as any man in the world, for all sailors can dance,\nhe said, and they began to dance together on the downs. The sailor\ndanced well and merrily, but Lucilla danced faster, and seemed as if\nshe were made of feather-down; and then the sailor, seeing that his\ndancing was as nothing to hers, caught her by the waist, and held her\nstill, crying, \u201cMy sweetheart, I cannot dance as you can, but my arms\nare strong enough to hold you still and keep you from dancing with any\nman but me.\u201d\n\nSo Lucilla married the sailor, and went with him to live in his little\ncottage by the sea, many miles away from the mill, and as her father\nwas growing old and no longer cared to work, he went with her too.\n\nFor some time the sailor and Lucilla lived together very happily, and\nthey had two little children, and her husband fished and sold his fish,\nand often still, Lucilla would go down to the waves and dance with them\nas she had done in her old home. She tried to teach her little children\nto dance as she did, but they could not learn because the windfairies\nhad never touched them. But one winter her husband\u2019s boat was dashed to\npieces, and the sea froze so that all the fish died, and they became so\npoor that they could barely get enough to eat. Then it chanced that a\nbig ship came to the village where they lived, and the captain wanted\nmen for a long journey, and her husband told Lucilla that he had best\ngo with him, and then he would have enough money to buy another boat,\nand then next year they must hope for better luck. So Lucilla was left\nalone in the cottage with her father and her two little children, and\nshe felt very lonely and sad without her husband, and often she thought\nof the mill and the windfairies, and when the wind blew, she would go\ndown to the water\u2019s edge and hold out her arms and pray them to take\ncare of her husband\u2019s ship, and bring it safe home again.\n\n\u201cOh, kind windfairies,\u201d she cried, \u201csee, I have kept faith with you, so\ndo you now keep faith with me, and do me no hurt.\u201d And often she would\ndance by the edge of the waves, as she used to do in her old home, and\nthink that the windfairies were dancing with her, and holding up her\nsteps.\n\nNow it chanced that one day, as Lucilla was dancing on the shore, there\nrode by two horsemen, and they stopped and watched her as she danced,\nwith the waves coming close to her feet. Then they got down from their\nhorses, and asked who she was, and where she had learned such dancing.\nShe told them she was only the wife of a poor fisherman, but she had\ndanced for long years, since she was a little child, when she had lived\nin a windmill, on the downs far away. They rode away, but next day they\ncame again, and brought others with them, and begged Lucilla that she\nwould go down to the water\u2019s edge and dance with the waves as she had\ndone yesterday. So she ran down the beach, and danced in time to the\nsea as it moved, and the strangers all applauded, and said to each\nother, \u201cIt is wonderful, it is marvellous.\u201d\n\nThey then told her that they came from a country where the King loved\nnothing so much as beautiful dancing, and that he would give great sums\nof money to any one who danced well, and if she would go back with them\nto his court, and dance before the King, she should have a sack of gold\nto take home with her, and this would make her a rich woman, and her\nhusband would never have need to work any more.\n\nAt first she refused, and said her husband was away, and would not\nknow where she was gone, and she did not like to leave her two little\nchildren; but still the courtiers persuaded her, and said it would not\nbe for long, and her father persuaded her too, since he said it would\nmake them all rich if she brought home a sack of gold. So at last\nLucilla agreed that she would go back with them to the King\u2019s court\nand dance there, but she made them promise that before the spring came\nthey would send her back to her own little cottage. On hearing this,\nthe strangers were much delighted, and bid Lucilla make ready to start\nat once, and that night she said good-bye to her little ones, and\nleft them, to go with the travellers. Her eyes were red with crying at\nleaving her home, and before she started, she went out alone on to the\ncliffs, and stretched out her arms, and called to the windfairies to go\nwith her and help her, for she feared what she was going to do, and she\nbegged them to be true to her, as she had been true to them.\n\nThey sailed for many days, till at last they came to a country of which\nLucilla had never even heard, and to a big town, which seemed to her\nas if it must hold all the people in the world, so crowded was it, and\nabove the town on the hill, they pointed out to her a royal palace, and\ntold her it was where the King dwelt, and there she would have to dance\nere the week was out.\n\n\u201cAnd it is most lucky we saw you just now,\u201d said they, \u201cfor the King is\njust going to be married, and in a few days the Princess will arrive,\nand there will be festivities and rejoicing for days, and at some of\nthese you will appear before their Majesties, and be sure you dance\nyour very best.\u201d\n\nThen Lucilla went with them into a great hall close to the palace,\nwhere musicians were playing on every kind of instrument, and here the\ncourtiers bid her dance on a platform at one end of the hall, in time\nto the music; and when they had seen it, the musicians one and all lay\ndown their instruments, and rose together, clapping and applauding, and\nall declared that it was the greatest of luck that the travellers had\nmet with Lucilla, and that it would delight the King more than anything\nthey had prepared for him.\n\nBy and by the Princess who was to marry the King arrived, and the\nwedding was celebrated with much magnificence, and after the wedding\nthere was a feast, and in the evening there was to be singing and\ndancing, and all sorts of play for the royal couple and the court to\nsee, and then Lucilla was to dance. The courtier who brought her wished\nher to be dressed in the most gorgeous dress, with gold and jewels, but\nshe pleaded that she might wear a light grey gown like the windfairies,\nbecause she remembered how they looked when they danced on the downs.\n\nWhen the evening came when she was to dance before the King, she threw\nwide her window and held out her arms, and cried out, \u201cNow help me,\ndear windfairies, as you have done before; keep faith with me, as I\nhave kept faith with you.\u201d But in truth she could scarce keep from\ncrying with thoughts of her husband at sea, and her little ones at the\ncottage at home.\n\nThe hall was brilliantly lighted, and in the middle on the throne sat\nthe King and the young Queen. The musicians began to play, and then\nLucilla stepped forth on the platform and began to dance. She felt as\nlight as the sea foam, and when she swayed and curved to the sound of\nthe music, it seemed to her as if she heard only the swish of the waves\nas they beat upon the shore, and the murmur of the wind as it played\nwith the water, and she thought of her husband out at sea, with the\nwind blowing his ship along, and of her little babies living in the\ncottage on the beach.\n\nWhen she stopped, there was such a noise of applauding and cheering in\nthe hall, as had never been heard there before, and the King sent for\nher, and asked her where she came from, and who had taught her such\nwonderful steps, but she only answered that she was the daughter of a\npoor miller, who lived in a windmill, and she thought she must have\nlearnt to dance from watching the windmill\u2019s sails go round. Every\nnight the King would have her dance again and again, as he never tired\nof watching her, and every night Lucilla said to herself, \u201cNow another\nnight is gone, and I am one day nearer to their taking me back to my\nown home and my children, with a bag of gold to give to my husband when\nhe comes back from sea.\u201d\n\nThe new Queen was a handsome woman, but she was very jealous, and it\nmade her angry that the King should admire the new dancer\u2019s dancing so\nmuch, and she thought she would like to be able to dance like her. So\none evening when no one was watching her, she put on a big cloak that\ncovered her all over, and asked her way to where the dancer lived.\nLucilla sat alone in the little house that they had given her to live\nin, and the Queen came in behind her, and took off her cloak, and\nbade her be silent and not say her name, for fear some one should be\nlistening and know that she was there.\n\n\u201cNow,\u201d she said, \u201cI have come to you that you may tell me, though no\none else knows it, who taught you to dance, that I may go and learn\nfrom them also to dance like you; for in the home that I come from, I\nwas said to be the most graceful woman in the land and the best dancer,\nso that there is no dancing that I cannot learn.\u201d\n\nLucilla trembled, but she answered:\n\n\u201cYour Majesty, I lived in a little windmill by the sea when I was a\nchild, far from teachers or dancers, but I watched the windmill sails\ngo round, morn, noon, and night; and perhaps it is that that taught me\nto dance as I do now. And if your Majesty wishes to learn to do what\nI do, I will gladly teach you all I know, and doubtless you will soon\nlearn to dance far better than I.\u201d\n\nUpon this the Queen was delighted, and flung aside her cloak, and stood\nopposite to Lucilla, and begged her to begin to teach her at once, that\nshe might learn as soon as possible. All that evening they danced, but\nwhen the Queen thought she looked just as Lucilla did, she appeared to\nbe quite awkward and heavy beside her, and was dancing just as other\nmortals might. When she went away she was very much pleased, and said\nthat she would come twice more to learn from her, and then she was\nsure that she would be perfect. In her heart Lucilla was very much\nfrightened, because she knew that the Queen did not dance as she did,\nand never could. However, the next night she came again, and the next\nagain, and then there was to be a grand court ball; and at this the\nQueen thought she would first show her husband how she could dance.\nThe King himself was fond of dancing, and danced well, although not\nhalf so well as Lucilla\u2019s husband the sailor; and the Queen thought\nhow delighted he would be when he saw what a graceful wife he had got.\nAs the ball began, all the fine people were saying to each other, it\nreally seemed silly to dance after they had seen the wonderful new\ndancer, but the Queen smiled and thought to herself, \u201cNow they will see\nthat I can do quite as well as she.\u201d When her turn came she tripped\nlightly forward and danced as best she could, and thought it was just\nlike Lucilla, and the courtiers said among each other, \u201cOur new Queen\ndances well,\u201d but no one thought of saying that it was like Lucilla\u2019s\ndancing, and the King said nothing at all on the matter; therefore the\nQueen felt herself growing hot and angry, and she turned red and white\nby turns.\n\n\u201cThat lying wench has been tricking me,\u201d she said to herself, \u201cand\nshe has not taught me right at all; but I will punish her for her\ndeception, and soon she shall know what it is to deceive a Queen.\u201d\n\nSo the next day she went to her husband and said, \u201cHusband, I have\nthought much of the new wonderful dancer whom we all admire so much,\nand truly I have never seen any one on earth who could dance as she\ncan; but now I think we should do well before she goes back to her own\nhome to know who has taught her her marvellous art, so that we may have\nour court dancers taught, that they may be there to please us when she\nis gone, for really there is nothing on earth that cannot be learnt if\nit is taught in the right way.\u201d\n\nThe King agreed, and they sent for Lucilla, and the King asked her to\ntell him where she had learnt her dancing, that they might summon the\nsame teachers to teach their court dancers. But Lucilla answered as\nbefore\u2014she did not know\u2014she thought she must have learnt dancing from\nwatching the windmill sails going round. At this the King became angry,\nand said, \u201cThat is nonsense, no one could learn dancing from looking\nat windmill sails, neither was it possible that she, a poor miller\u2019s\ndaughter, could have learnt such dancing by nature;\u201d then he threatened\nher, that if she would not tell him the truth he should be obliged to\npunish her, and he said she should have a day to think of it in, but at\nthe end of the next day, he should expect her to tell him everything he\nwanted to know quite plainly.\n\nWhen she was gone away the King said to the Queen, \u201cWife, if this\ndancer persists in her silence, and will not tell us how she has\nlearnt, there is another thing which we must do. We must keep her here\nto dance for us as much as we choose, and not let her return at all to\nthe home from which she came.\u201d\n\nThe Queen was silent for a little, but she felt very jealous at the\nthought of the dancer remaining at the court, so she nodded her head\nand said, \u201cYes, but I think she ought to tell us more about it; for\nmyself, I begin to think that it is witchcraft, and perhaps she has\nbeen taught by the Evil One, and then we shouldn\u2019t like her to remain\nhere and dance to us however beautiful it be, for who knows what ill\nluck it might not bring upon us?\u201d Upon this the King looked grave, and\nsaid he did not believe much in ill luck or good luck, but he should be\nloth to lose the dancer, so they had better settle to keep her if she\ndeclined to tell them how the other dancers were to be taught.\n\nMeantime Lucilla went back to her little house, and wept bitterly.\n\u201cWould that I had never left my babes and my home,\u201d she cried, \u201cfor I\ncannot break my word to the windfairies, and if I did they might do\nsome terrible harm to my little ones or to my husband at sea; yet if I\nrefuse to tell them they will most likely put me into prison, and there\nI shall remain for my life, and my husband and children will never\nknow what has become of me.\u201d And she knelt down before the windows and\nlifted her arms and cried out, \u201cOh, dear windfairies, I have not broken\nfaith with you, so don\u2019t break faith with me, and come to my help and\nsave me in my trouble.\u201d\n\nNext evening Lucilla went again before the King, and he said to her,\n\u201cWell, now will you tell us what we asked you last night, so that we\nmay send for your teachers, and have others taught to dance as you do?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy gracious liege,\u201d answered Lucilla, \u201cI can tell you nothing that I\nhave not told you before. Since I was a child I have danced as I dance\nnow, and I watched the sails of my father\u2019s windmill, and I danced in\ntime to the waves, and perhaps that is what taught me to keep time and\nstep so well. I was dancing by the sea-shore when the travellers who\nbrought me here found me, and they promised me a bag of gold to take\nhome to my husband if I would come and dance at your Majesty\u2019s court;\nand now you have seen me dance, and I have done all I can do, so I\nentreat you to give me the bag of gold, and let me go home again.\u201d\n\nThe King was silent, but the Queen was still more angry, and in her\nheart was determined that Lucilla should never return to her home until\nshe had found out about her dancing. So when they were alone she said\nto her husband, \u201cIt is now quite clear, it is by witchcraft that this\nwoman has learned, and we should do very wrong if we let her go till\nshe has confessed all.\u201d So again they sent for Lucilla and ordered her\nto confess, and again she wept and declared that she could tell no\nmore. Then the King said, \u201cWell, let us give the woman her bag of gold\nand let her go,\u201d but the Queen stopped him, and said, \u201cNo indeed, let\nus first try shutting her up in prison for a bit, and see if that won\u2019t\nopen her lips.\u201d\n\nAt first the King refused, for he said that Lucilla had done no wrong,\nbut the Queen insisted that she was deceiving them, and that her\ndancing must be witchcraft, and at last the King began to listen to\nher. Also he was very angry with Lucilla for wanting to go home, and\nmuch disappointed to think he should see her dancing no more; so he\nconsented, and said that either she must tell him how it was she came\nto be able to dance better than anybody else in this world, and who\ntaught her, or else they should think her dancing witchcraft, and she\nmust go to prison and wait her punishment.\n\nPoor Lucilla wept most bitterly. \u201cAlas!\u201d cried she to herself, \u201cwoe is\nme, for I dare not break faith with the windfairies, and yet if I do\nnot, I shall never see my husband or my babies again, for I fear lest\nthey may put me to death here.\u201d\n\nHowever, she continued to be silent, and the King ordered her to be\nput into prison until she should speak out and tell them the truth;\nand the guards came and led her away to prison, and locked her into a\ndark cell. It was dreary and cold, and the walls were so thick that\nshe could not hear any of the noises from without, and there was only\none little window, which was too high up for her to see through. Here\nshe lay and lamented, and almost wished she could die at once, for she\nbelieved that they would burn her, or drown her, and bitterly did she\ngrieve that she had left her home and her children.\n\nEvery day the King sent down to ask if she had changed her mind, but\nevery day she answered that she had nothing to say. One evening she sat\nin her dark cell alone, grieving as usual, when the prison door opened,\nand there entered a woman wrapped in a cloak and with her face hidden\nby a mask. When she took off the mask Lucilla saw it was the Queen, and\nshe sprang up hoping that she had come to tell her that she was to be\nreleased, but the Queen said, \u201cNow I have come to you alone that you\nmay tell me the truth. Who taught you to dance, and where can I learn\nto do what you do? If you will tell me I will ask the King to forgive\nyou, and you shall have your bag of gold, and go when you like.\u201d\n\nThen poor Lucilla began to cry afresh, and said, \u201cMy gracious lady,\nI can tell you one thing that I have not yet told to any one, that\nis, that I did learn my dancing, but who told me, or how it was, is a\nsecret that I swore I would never tell to any one. And now I implore\nyour Royal Highness to let me go back to my fisherman husband, and my\nbabies. Alack! alack! it was an evil hour for me when I left my home.\u201d\n\nUpon this the Queen became furious, but she hid her anger, and first\nshe tried to coax Lucilla to confess all, then she threatened her\nwith the King\u2019s wrath, and then, as Lucilla still wept and said that\nshe could not break her promise, she started up in a rage, and said,\n\u201cIndeed, it is of little use, however much you love your husband and\nyour children, for you will never see them again. The King has settled\nthat you shall be killed this very week, so now you know what you have\ngained by your wicked obstinacy.\u201d\n\nSo the Queen returned to the King, and told him that the dancer had\nconfessed that she had learned her dancing, but she would not say from\nwhom, therefore it must be from the Evil One, and therefore there was\nnothing for it but that she should be killed. So they settled that\nfirst they would try to drown Lucilla, and if she were a witch she\nwould not sink, and the King gave orders that she should be taken out\nto sea next day and thrown overboard, and also that she should have\nheavy weights tied to her feet, and her arms should be bound to her\nsides.\n\nNext morning the guards fetched her, and they bound her arms to her\nsides, and tied heavy weights to her feet, and they took her down and\nplaced her in a boat on the sea-shore, and they rowed her out to sea,\nand all along the beach stood crowds of people, shouting and jeering,\nand calling out, \u201cShe is a witch! she is a witch! the King has done\nwell to have her killed.\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas! alas!\u201d cried Lucilla, \u201cwhat have I done to deserve this? surely\nI have done no wrong to be so cruelly treated. Dear windfairies, come\nto my help, for in truth now is the time of my direst need, and if you\ndesert me I am lost; but I pray you keep faith with me, as I have\nkept faith with you.\u201d Then, when they had rowed the boat out a little\nway, the guards seized her, and threw her into the water, and the salt\nwaves splashed over her face and through her hair; but in spite of the\nheavy weights on her feet she never sank, but felt as light as when she\ndanced with the waves on the sea-shore by her home, and she knew that\nthe windfairies held her up; and the waves rocked her gently, and drew\nher in towards the land, and laid her on the sand, and all the crowd\nyelled with rage.\n\nWhen they found that Lucilla could not be drowned both the King and\nQueen were very angry, and said that now it was quite clear that she\nwas a witch, and that she must be burnt, so they must take her back to\nprison, and arrange for her to be burnt in the market-place. So Lucilla\nwas again taken back to her little dark cell, and she kneeled on the\nground and looked up to the window, and murmured, \u201cThank you, dear\nwindfairies, you have kept faith with me, as I have kept faith with\nyou.\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThen again the guards came, and took her by the arms and led her to\nthe market-place, and here she saw a great pile of wood made, whereon\nshe was to be laid, and already men were busy setting fire to it.\nBut as Lucilla and the guards came to the spot, there arose a little\nbreeze, and it blew on to the faces of the crowd who went to see her\nburnt. The men who were trying to light the pile of wood, said they\ncould not make it catch for the wind; when at last it did catch fire,\nthe flames would not rise in the air, but were blown along the ground.\nStill they brought Lucilla up to the pile, and placed her upon it, and\nthen the flames divided on each side, and were blown away from her all\nround, so she sat in the midst quite unhurt.\n\nAt this the people all cried out, \u201cNow we know that she really is a\nwitch, since she will not drown and the fire will not burn her,\u201d and\nthey ran to tell the King and the Queen that the dancing woman did not\nmind the fire, but sat in the midst of it unhurt. On hearing this the\nKing and Queen came down to the market-place together, and saw Lucilla\nsitting on the pile of wood, and the flames blown away from her on all\nsides, and causing a great hubbub; so they told the guards to take her\nback to prison and keep her there, till they could arrange for her to\nbe beheaded. And again Lucilla bent her head, and said, \u201cNow I know,\ndear windfairies, that you will never desert me, and I have nothing to\nfear, for while I keep faith with you, you will keep faith with me.\u201d\n\nBy now it was getting late in the day, and the King commanded that\nLucilla should not be executed till next day, and that the scaffold\nshould be erected in the market-place, on which the block should be\nput, so that all the crowd might see, and both he and the Queen would\nbe there. But in order to give her one last chance that every one might\nsee how fair they were, the King offered that if she would confess,\neven when she was upon the scaffold, who had taught her to dance, she\nshould be allowed to return whence she came, and take her bag of gold\nwith her, and therefore the bag of gold was placed on the scaffold so\nthat all the people might see, and the bag was so large that Lucilla\ncould scarcely lift it.\n\nThat evening Lucilla felt no fear, and she would have slept calmly in\nher cell, but the wind was beginning to blow in all directions, and all\nround she heard it roaring, and the trees were bending and breaking\nin the gale. When the morning came, the King and Queen said to each\nother, \u201cThis is the morning when they should execute the dancer, but\nit will be hard to get her on to the scaffold with a gale like this\nblowing.\u201d However, the guards came to Lucilla\u2019s cell, and took her out\nas before, and led her towards the market-place, though they had much\nado to get along, for the wind blew so hard that they could scarce keep\nupright in it. All along the coast the little boats were being blown in\nto shore, and there were big ships, which had been driven in, to take\nrefuge from the storm. But Lucilla felt no fear, only she looked up to\nthe wind, and in her heart she said, \u201cNow, dear windfairies, help me\nfor the last time, and keep faith with me, as I have kept faith with\nyou.\u201d\n\nNear the shore came a big ship with shining white sails, riding over\nthe crested waves, and although all the other boats seemed troubled by\nthe wind, and some were dismasted and others were wrecked, this boat\nseemed no way hurt by it, and the people who saw it called out, \u201cWhat\na gallant ship it was, and how brave the captain must be, who knew\nso well how to manage wind and water.\u201d But when they knew that the\ntime had come for Lucilla to be beheaded, the people did not trouble\nfurther about the boats, and in spite of the gale they flocked to the\nmarket-place, and crowded round the scaffold on which was the block.\n\nThen the guards and Lucilla mounted the scaffold, and Lucilla began to\nfear that at last the windfairies had forsaken her, and she wept and\nheld out her arms, and cried out, \u201cOh, dear windfairies, indeed I have\nkept my faith with you, surely, surely you will keep yours with me.\u201d\nIn spite of the terrible gale, the King and the Queen came down to the\nmarket-place, though they could scarce see or hear for the wind, though\nall the time the sun was shining and the sky was blue. Then the guards\nbid Lucilla kneel down and place her head upon the block, and the bag\nof gold was beside her, and they said, \u201cThis is your last chance, speak\nnow and confess the truth to the King, and here is your gold, and you\nshall go.\u201d And Lucilla answered as before, \u201cI have spoken the truth,\nand there is no more that I can tell, since I have sworn never to say\nfrom whom I learnt my dancing.\u201d\n\nThen the executioner lifted the axe in the air, but before it fell,\nthere came a sudden roar of wind, and the axe was swept from his hand,\nand the houses in the market-place tottered and fell, and high up\non the hill the palace was a mass of ruins. Only Lucilla knelt upon\nthe scaffold unhurt, for the King and the Queen and all the people\nwere blown right and left, amidst the ruins of the houses, and no one\nthought of anything save how they could save themselves.\n\nThen Lucilla lifted her head and looked out to sea, and saw the big\nship coming in, and she heard the sailors cry, \u201cHeyday, these poor folk\nare in a sad plight, we had better go and help them,\u201d and they all\ntrooped up into the market-place, and the wind troubled them no more\nthan it had troubled their ship. But when Lucilla looked at them, the\nfirst whom she saw was her husband, and she gave a great cry, and held\nout her arms, and called out, \u201cNow, dear windfairies, do I indeed know\nthat you have kept faith with me, and saved me in my direst hour of\nneed.\u201d\n\nThen she told her husband all that had happened, and showed him the\nbag of gold, and prayed him take her back to her little cottage and\nher babies by the sea; and she knew that it was the windfairies that\nhad brought her husband to her, for he told her that whatever way they\nsteered the ship it would only take one course, and the wind had blown\nit without their guidance straight to the town where she was to be\nkilled.\n\nSo Lucilla and her husband took the bag of gold, and went back to the\nlittle cottage by the sea-shore, and her father and her babies, and the\nKing and the Queen and all the rest of the people were left to build up\ntheir town as best they could, and Lucilla never saw nor heard of them\nany more, but lived happily with her husband for the rest of her life.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: VAIN KESTA]\n\n\nONCE upon a time there lived a young girl called Kesta who was the\ndairy-maid at a large farm. She milked the cows and made the cheese and\nbutter, and sometimes took them into the town to sell for her master.\n\nOn the farm worked a man named Adam. He drove in the cows for Kesta to\nmilk and watched her milking them. As she was a comely-looking girl and\ndid her work well, he thought she would make him a good wife; so one\nday he said, \u201cKesta, how would you like to marry me? and then we can\nsave our money and some day buy a farm for ourselves, and I should be\na farmer and you should be the farmer\u2019s wife, and have servants to wait\non you.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat I should like very much,\u201d said Kesta, \u201cbut I can\u2019t say yes, at\nonce. To-morrow I am going to town with my cheeses, when I come back I\nwill give you an answer.\u201d\n\nAt night Kesta looked into her glass and said, \u201cI wonder why Adam\nwishes to marry me? but as he does, most likely some better man would\nlike to do so; it would be folly to marry him till I see if I can\u2019t do\nbetter. I must look about me when I go to town to-morrow, and see who I\ncan meet.\u201d\n\nIn the morning she dressed herself with great care in her best clothes,\nand set out for the town with the cheeses in a basket under her arm.\nWhen she had got a little way she passed a mill, and the miller all\nwhite with flour stood in the yard directing his men. He was an oldish\nman, and his wife was recently dead, and Kesta thought as she drew\nnear, it would be a better thing to marry him than to marry poor Adam,\nso she said, \u201cGood-day, would you kindly let me rest a little?\u201d\n\n\u201cCertainly, my girl,\u201d said the miller, \u201cyou seem to be out of breath?\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd well I may be,\u201d said Kesta, \u201csuch a run as I have had. I\u2019ve come\nfrom the farm yonder, and it was as much as I could do to get away, for\nthe farmer\u2019s man was very angry because I would not marry him, and of\ncourse I am too good for him, a pretty girl like me.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you really a pretty girl?\u201d said the miller; \u201clet me see, perhaps\nyou are. Well, if you are too good for the farmer\u2019s man perhaps\nyou would suit me. How would you like to marry me, and live in the\nmill-house yonder?\u201d\n\n\u201cI think I should like it well,\u201d said Kesta, \u201cbut I have some business\nin the town, and must go there first, so I\u2019ll stop here and tell you as\nI come back.\u201d So she said good-bye, and went on her way feeling very\nmerry.\n\n\u201cIt would be much better to marry the miller than to marry Adam, but\nwho knows if I may not do better than either, so I must not be in any\nhurry.\u201d So she walked on, and near to the town she met a man on a white\nhorse, and saw it was the bailiff of the great Duke at the Palace. \u201cWho\nknows but that he may want a wife?\u201d she said to herself, \u201cI can but\ntry.\u201d So she sat down by the road-side and called out, \u201cAh me, what a\nthing it is to be a poor girl who has to run away from all the men she\nmeets!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy,\u201d cried the bailiff, stopping his horse. \u201cWhy have you to run? who\ntries to hurt you?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo one tries to hurt me,\u201d said Kesta, \u201cbut I have to run from men who\nwant to marry me, because I am so pretty. At first it was a man at our\nfarm, and now it is the miller, who would not let me pass his door\nunless I promised to come back and marry him, but I am far too good for\nsuch as he.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs this really so?\u201d cried the bailiff, who hated the miller; \u201cdid the\nmiller really want to marry you? If you\u2019re too good to marry him, it\nmay be you would suit me.\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed,\u201d said Kesta, \u201cI think that might do well, for I should live\nin a nice house and have plenty of servants. But I have to go into the\ntown on business, and you\u2019re sure to be somewhere about here, and when\nI come back we will arrange it.\u201d So she set off, leaving the bailiff\nchuckling at the thought of how angry the miller would be if he married\nKesta.\n\nOn went Kesta in high good-humour. \u201cNow am I indeed doing well,\u201d said\nshe; \u201chow clever I was not to marry Adam before I came to town.\u201d\nPresently she reached the town, and in the high street she passed the\nbank, and the banker himself stood in the doorway. He was fat and ugly\nand old, but his hands were covered with rings, and Kesta knew his\npockets were full of gold. Kesta said, \u201cIt would be a fine thing to\nmarry him, and I could hold up my head with any one. I think I\u2019ll speak\nto him, as it would be folly to pass him without trying.\u201d So she gave a\nloud sigh and said, \u201cAlack a day, how hard is my lot!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, what is wrong, my pretty lass?\u201d said the banker.\n\n\u201cPretty you may well say,\u201d answered Kesta. \u201cWould I were not so, for\nthence come all my troubles.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what are they?\u201d asked the banker.\n\n\u201cOnly wherever I go, I have no peace, for all the men want to marry me.\nFirst it is the farmer, then the miller, and lastly the duke\u2019s bailiff,\nwho would scarcely let me pass on the road till I had promised him; and\nof course it is impossible, and I am much too pretty for any of them.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs this really true?\u201d cried the banker; \u201cif so, there must be\nsomething very superior about you. Perhaps you would be good enough for\nme. How would you like to be my wife, and ride in a fine carriage, and\nwear silk gowns all day?\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, that would be much more fitting,\u201d cried Kesta, \u201cand from the\nfirst I thought you would be much more suitable to be my husband than\nany of the others I have met; but I must go down the town first, so I\nwill come in here on my way back.\u201d So she went on till she came to a\ngreat square in front of the barracks where the soldiers were drilling,\nwith their helmets and swords glittering in the sun, and at their head\nrode the General of the army. His voice was hoarse with shouting at his\nmen, and he swore dreadfully, but he was covered with gold, and looked\nvery grand. \u201cNow supposing he has no wife,\u201d thought Kesta, \u201cit would be\na really fine thing to marry him: I can but try.\u201d So she waited till\nthe soldiers were marching into the barracks, and then, when he was\nriding away, she went so close under the horse\u2019s feet that he shouted\nto her in case she should be run over. \u201cAlas! what a life is mine,\u201d she\ncried very loud that he might hear, \u201chunted here and there till I don\u2019t\nknow where I go!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, who hunts you?\u201d cried the General angrily; \u201cwhat nonsense you\ntalk, my good girl.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow dare you say I talk nonsense,\u201d cried Kesta, \u201cwhen it is as much as\nI can do to get through your town for the men who want me to stop and\nmarry them!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd why do they want you to marry them?\u201d asked the General.\n\n\u201cBecause I\u2019m so pretty, of course,\u201d said Kesta promptly, and she took\noff her hat and looked up at the General.\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t think you are so pretty,\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cBut I am,\u201d cried Kesta angrily, \u201cand it\u2019s only stupid people who don\u2019t\nsee it. Go and ask the men in the town. First it was a man at the farm,\nthen the miller, then the duke\u2019s bailiff, then the banker\u2014they all\nwanted to marry me, and I am much too good for any of them!\u201d\n\n\u201cIf this is all true,\u201d said the General, \u201cof course you must be\nexceedingly pretty, and as you say you are much too good for them,\nperhaps you might suit me. How would you like that?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat might be better,\u201d said Kesta, \u201cand as you wish it very much I\nwill agree, and I hope you will try to make me a good husband; but I am\nobliged to go a little further on important business, and I will meet\nyou here on my way back,\u201d and on she went laughing to herself. \u201cIndeed\nI am fortunate,\u201d thought she; \u201cand as they all seem willing to marry\nme why should I not try higher, and see what the Duke himself would\nsay? There is nothing like being practical, and it would be downright\nsilly not to speak to the Duke now I am here.\u201d By this time she had\ncome to the Duke\u2019s palace, so she stopped a servant who was coming out\nand asked if he were at home, for she said, \u201cI have special business\nwith him.\u201d \u201cHe is sitting by the stream in the garden, where he sits\nfishing all day, and you can go and speak to him if you choose,\u201d said\nthe servant. So Kesta went through the courtyard into the garden, and\nstraight on to where the Duke sat beside the stream with a long rod in\nhis hand fishing. He was dressed all in green, and seemed to be half\nasleep, and Kesta came quite near him before he saw her. Then she\nsaid, \u201cAh, pity me, your Grace, and listen to my sad story.\u201d\n\n\u201cGood gracious! who are you?\u2014don\u2019t you know I am the Duke?\u201d said he.\n\n\u201cAnd that is why I have come to you to ask you to protect me from all\nthe men who pursue me,\u201d said Kesta.\n\n\u201cWhy do they pursue you?\u201d asked the Duke.\n\n\u201cBecause I am so pretty,\u201d replied Kesta. \u201cThey all want to marry me:\nfirst the man at the farm, then the miller I met on the road, then your\nbailiff, then the banker, then the General of your army, and he would\nonly let me go when I promised to go back to him.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe General!\u201d said the Duke. \u201cIs this true? does he really want to\nmarry you?\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course he does,\u201d said Kesta; \u201cif you doubt what I say you had\nbetter send to the town and ask.\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed,\u201d said the Duke, \u201cI should not have thought you so very pretty,\nbut if what you say is true you must be. I\u2019m not sure if it would not\nsuit me to marry you myself; but mind, I shall be exceedingly angry if\nI find you have not told me the truth, and they did not want to marry\nyou. Of course you would be delighted to marry me and be the Duchess?\u201d\n\n\u201cAye, that I should,\u201d cried Kesta, and she grinned with delight.\n\nThen the Duke took from his side a horn and blew it loudly. There came\nfrom the palace four pages, dressed in blue and gold, who stood in a\nrow to receive his orders. \u201cSee,\u201d cried the Duke, \u201cI am going to marry\nthis lady, who everybody thinks is very beautiful, so see that you\ntreat her with respect; and go to the palace and bid them to prepare a\nfeast and fitting clothes for the bride, and tell the chaplain to be\nready, for I mean to marry her at once.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd now,\u201d he said to Kesta, when all his pages had returned to the\npalace, \u201ccome and sit by me and watch me fish till all is ready.\u201d\n\nSo Kesta sat by his side and watched him fishing with his long rod, but\nafter a time she grew tired of being silent, and said, \u201cWhat have you\ncaught?\u201d\n\n\u201cNothing yet,\u201d said the Duke.\n\n\u201cThen why do you go on?\u201d asked she.\n\n\u201cBecause I\u2019m sure to catch something soon, and it\u2019s amusing. Wouldn\u2019t\nyou like to hold the rod a little?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, very much,\u201d answered Kesta, who was afraid of offending him. So\nshe put out her hand to take the rod, and as she did so the basket fell\nfrom her arm and the cheeses rolled out.\n\n\u201cWhat are those round balls?\u201d asked the Duke, \u201cand what an odd smell\nthey have.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey are my cheeses,\u201d cried Kesta; \u201cI made them yesterday, and was\ntaking them to sell, when\u2014\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cGood gracious, you made them!\u201d cried the Duke with a scream. \u201cThen\nyou must be a common dairy-maid, and your hands are quite rough.\nHow terrible! And I was just going to marry you. How dare you think\nyourself good enough to marry me!\u201d and he sprang to his feet in a\ntowering passion, and seizing his horn blew it so loudly that the four\npages ran up in great alarm. \u201cHunt her away,\u201d cried the Duke, \u201cshe is\nan impostor\u2014a common farm wench and makes cheeses. She thought herself\ngood enough to be the Duchess!\u201d\n\nAway flew Kesta, with the pages after her hooting and shouting, \u201cDown\nwith the impertinent hussy who wanted to marry the Duke, a common\ndairy-maid who makes cheeses.\u201d\n\nOn rushed Kesta till she came to the General\u2019s house, and at his window\nhe sat in his fine uniform. He sat waiting for her, but when he saw the\npages behind her he called, \u201cHey-dey, what is all this fuss about?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is nothing,\u201d said Kesta. \u201cSee, I have come back to marry you as I\npromised.\u201d\n\nBut here the pages shouted, \u201cAway with the impertinent dairy-maid, who\nthought herself good enough to marry the Duke.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd wouldn\u2019t the Duke marry her?\u201d asked the General.\n\n\u201cOf course not; she is nothing but a farm wench,\u201d cried the pages, \u201cand\nshe is to be chased from the town for her impertinence.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd so she shall,\u201d cried the General; \u201cshe thought she was fit for me\ntoo\u2014it is disgraceful!\u201d and he cried to some soldiers who stood by his\ndoor, \u201cHere, my men, help to chase this good-for-nothing hussy out of\nthe town.\u201d\n\nBut before he had finished Kesta was running down the street with all\nher might to the banker\u2019s. At last she came to the banker\u2019s big square\nhouse standing beside the bank, and on the steps was the banker himself\nin his shiny black clothes with gold rings on his hands.\n\n\u201cHere I am,\u201d cried Kesta; \u201cand let me in quickly, for I am out of\nbreath with running.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy have you hurried so?\u201d cried the banker, and as he spoke the pages\nand the soldiers came round the corner, \u201cand what is all this shouting\nfor?\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, how should I know?\u201d cried Kesta, running into the house.\n\nBut up came her pursuers, crying, \u201cAway with her! down with her!\u201d\n\n\u201cWho is it you are calling after?\u201d asked the banker.\n\n\u201cThat wench in the yellow dress who has gone into your house.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, what has she done?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cWhy, she thought herself good enough to marry the Duke and the\nGeneral, and she is to be hooted out of the town for her impudence!\u201d\n\n\u201cBut didn\u2019t the General want to marry her?\u201d asked the banker.\n\n\u201cOur General!\u201d cried the soldiers angrily; \u201cwhy, she\u2019s only a\ndairy-maid, and not fit for him.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen I\u2019m sure she can\u2019t be good enough for me, for I\u2019m quite as good\nas he,\u201d said the banker, and he ran into the house in a great rage,\ncrying, \u201cBegone, you impertinent jade! how dare you think yourself good\nenough for me to marry!\u201d It chanced at this moment that the clerks were\ncoming out of the bank next door, and when he saw them he cried, \u201cHere,\nmy good fellows, help to chase this minx from the town; she wishes to\nbe my wife, when she is nothing but a common dairy-maid.\u201d On this the\nclerks burst out laughing, and one and all ran after Kesta, who ran\nwith all her might and main.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s too hard,\u201d sobbed she; \u201cwhat have I done to be treated like\nthis?\u201d But run as fast as she might she could not reach the bailiff\u2019s\nhouse before them, and the pages, soldiers, and clerks were all close\nto her, shouting and laughing.\n\n\u201cWhy, what\u2019s the matter?\u201d cried the bailiff, \u201cand why are you shouting\nat this poor maid?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy,\u201d said they, \u201cshe wanted to marry first the Duke, and the General,\nand the banker, and of course they would not have her, because she is\nonly a common dairy wench.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat impertinence!\u201d cried the bailiff; \u201cand, now I come to think of\nit, she asked to marry me too; indeed she merits punishment for such\nbehaviour,\u201d and seeing some of his farm people close at hand, he bid\nthem run after Kesta and drive her out of the town. But this time she\nhad started first, and had got on to the mill before they could reach\nher, and she ran into the garden where the miller was. \u201cWell, I\u2019m glad\nto see you back,\u201d said he, \u201cbut how hard you have run.\u201d\n\n\u201cI was in such a hurry to get back. Now let\u2019s go into the house,\u201d she\nsaid.\n\n\u201cCome along,\u201d said the miller; \u201cbut what are all those people shouting\nfor?\u201d\n\n\u201c\u2019Tis only the farmers bringing home pigs from the market,\u201d said Kesta,\nbut she felt frightened, for she heard the people calling after her.\n\n\u201cPigs don\u2019t make a noise like that,\u201d said the miller, \u201cI will go and\nsee what it is about.\u201d And when he heard that they were all shouting\nat Kesta, he flew into a violent rage and cried, \u201cIf she wasn\u2019t good\nenough for the bailiff I\u2019m sure she\u2019s not fit for me,\u201d and he called\nto some of his men who were working at the mill, \u201cSee there, my men,\ndo you see that girl? throw some flour at her, for she is an impudent\nhussy, and asked me to marry her.\u201d\n\nAway flew Kesta again, and after her came all the crowd in a long line.\n\u201cHow unfortunate I am,\u201d she sobbed; \u201cbut anyhow I can go back to Adam;\nhe\u2019s sure to be glad to have me,\u201d and on she sped, and at last she came\nto the farm and ran in, calling to Adam.\n\n\u201cIs that you, Kesta?\u201d cried Adam, coming to meet her, and kissing her.\n\u201cI\u2019m glad to see you, but why are you so hot?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is the sun, it was so strong,\u201d said Kesta.\n\n\u201cThen sit down and grow cool,\u201d said Adam. \u201cBut I wonder what all that\nshouting outside can be?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is only people making holiday,\u201d cried Kesta. But for all she could\nsay Adam went out to ask the people what they wanted at the farm?\n\n\u201cWe want nothing at the farm,\u201d they cried, \u201cbut we followed that\nimpudent wench dressed in yellow.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, what has she done?\u201d asked Adam.\n\n\u201cDone!\u201d they cried. \u201cWhy, she came up to the town and asked to marry\nthe miller, and the banker, and the bailiff, and the General, and even\nthe Duke himself, so she deserves to be punished for her presumption.\u201d\n\nThen Adam looked very grave, and went back to the farm and said,\n\u201cIndeed, Kesta, I cannot marry you now, since you\u2019ve been to the town\nand tried to get a finer husband than me,\u201d and he went back to his\nwork, and left Kesta sitting all alone; and there she sat and cried\nby herself, and did not get any husband after all, because she was so\nfalse and vain.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: THE POOL & THE TREE]\n\n\nONCE there was a tree standing in the middle of a vast wilderness, and\nbeneath the shade of its branches was a little pool, over which they\nbent. The pool looked up at the tree and the tree looked down at the\npool, and the two loved each other better than anything else on earth.\nAnd neither of them thought of anything else but each other, or cared\nwho came and went in the world around them.\n\n\u201cBut for you and the shade you give me I should have been dried up by\nthe sun long ago,\u201d said the pool.\n\n\u201cAnd if it were not for you and your shining face, I should never have\nseen myself, or have known what my boughs and blossoms were like,\u201d\nanswered the tree.\n\nEvery year when the leaves and flowers had died away from the branches\nof the tree, and the cold winter came, the little pool froze over and\nremained hard and silent till the spring; but directly the sun\u2019s rays\nthawed it, it again sparkled and danced as the wind blew upon it,\nand it began to watch its beloved friend, to see the buds and leaves\nreappear, and together they counted the leaves and blossoms as they\ncame forth.\n\nOne day there rode over the moorland a couple of travellers in search\nof rare plants and flowers. At first they did not look at the tree, but\nas they were hot and tired they got off their horses, and sat under the\nshade of the boughs, and talked of what they had been doing. \u201cWe have\nnot found much,\u201d said one gloomily; \u201cit seemed scarcely worth while to\ncome so far for so little.\u201d\n\n\u201cOne may hunt for many years before one finds anything very rare,\u201d\nanswered the elder traveller. \u201cWell, we have not done, and who knows\nbut what we may yet have some luck?\u201d As he spoke he picked up one of\nthe fallen leaves of the tree which lay beside him, and at once he\nsprang to his feet, and pulled down one of the branches to examine it.\nThen he called to his comrade to get up, and he also closely examined\nthe leaves and blossoms, and they talked together eagerly, and at\nlength declared that this was the best thing they had found in all\ntheir travels. But neither the pool nor the tree heeded them, for the\npool lay looking lovingly up to the tree, and the tree gazed down at\nthe clear water of the pool, and they wanted nothing more, and by and\nby the travellers mounted their horses and rode away.\n\nThe summer passed and the cold winds of autumn blew.\n\n\u201cSoon your leaves will drop and you will fall asleep for the winter,\nand we must bid each other good-bye,\u201d said the pool.\n\n\u201cAnd you too when the frost comes will be numbed to ice,\u201d answered the\ntree; \u201cbut never mind, the spring will follow, and the sun will wake us\nboth.\u201d\n\nBut long before the winter had set in, ere yet the last leaf had\nfallen, there came across the prairie a number of men riding on horses\nand mules, bringing with them a long waggon. They rode straight to the\ntree, and foremost among them were the two travellers who had been\nthere before.\n\n\u201cWhy do they come? What do they want?\u201d cried the pool uneasily; but\nthe tree feared nothing. The men had spades and pickaxes, and began to\ndig a deep ditch all round the tree\u2019s roots, and then they dug beneath\nthem, and at last both the pool and the tree saw that they were going\nto dig it up.\n\n\u201cWhat are you doing? Why are you trying to wrench up my roots and to\nmove me?\u201d cried the tree; \u201cdon\u2019t you know that I shall die if you drag\nme from my pool which has fed and loved me all my life?\u201d And the pool\nsaid, \u201cOh, what can they want? Why do they take you? The sun will come\nand dry me up without your shade, and I never, never shall see you\nagain.\u201d But the men heard nothing, and continued to dig at the root of\nthe tree till they had loosened all the earth round it, and then they\nlifted it and wrapped big cloths round it and put it on their waggon\nand drove away with it.\n\nThen for the first time the pool looked straight up at the sky without\nseeing the delicate tracery made by the leaves and twigs against the\nblue, and it called out to all things near it: \u201cMy tree, my tree, where\nhave they taken my tree? When the hot sun comes it will dry me up, if\nit shines down on me without the shade of my tree.\u201d And so loudly it\nmourned and lamented that the birds flying past heard it, and at last\na swallow paused on the wing, and hovering near its surface, asked why\nit grieved so bitterly. \u201cThey have taken my tree,\u201d cried the pool, \u201cand\nI don\u2019t know where it is; I cannot move or look to right or left, so I\nshall never see it again.\u201d\n\n\u201cAsk the moon,\u201d said the swallow. \u201cThe moon sees everywhere, and she\nwill tell you. I am flying away to warmer countries, for the winter\nwill soon be here. Good-bye, poor pool.\u201d\n\nAt night, when the moon rose, and the pool looked up and saw its\nbeautiful white face, it remembered the swallow\u2019s words, and called out\nto ask its aid.\n\n\u201cFind me my tree,\u201d it prayed; \u201cyou shone through its branches and know\nit well, and you can see all over the world; look for my tree, and tell\nme where they have taken it. Perhaps they have torn it in pieces or\nburnt it up.\u201d\n\n\u201cNay,\u201d cried the moon, \u201cthey have done neither, for I saw it a few\nhours ago when I shone near it. They have taken it many miles away and\nit is planted in a big garden, but it has not taken root in the earth,\nand its foliage is fading. The men who took it prize it heartily, and\nstrangers come from far and near to look at it, because they say it is\nso rare, and there are only one or two like it in the world.\u201d\n\nOn hearing this the pool felt itself swell with pride that the tree\nshould be so much admired; but then it cried in anguish, \u201cAnd I shall\nnever see it again, for I can never move from here.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is nonsense,\u201d cried a little cloud that was sailing near; \u201cI was\nonce in the earth like you. To-morrow, if the sun shines brightly, he\nwill draw you up into the sky, and you can sail along till you find\nyour tree.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs that true?\u201d cried the pool, and all that night it rested in peace\nwaiting for the sun to rise. Next day there were no clouds, and when\nthe pool saw the sun shining it cried, \u201cDraw me up into the sky, dear\nSun, that I may be a little cloud and sail all the world over, till I\ncan find my beloved tree.\u201d\n\nWhen the sun heard it, he threw down hundreds of tiny golden threads\nwhich dropped over the pool, and slowly and gradually it began to\nchange and grow thinner and lighter, and to rise through the air, till\nat last it had quite left the earth, and where it had lain before,\nthere was nothing but a dry hole, but the pool itself was transformed\ninto a tiny cloud, and was sailing above in the blue sky in the\nsunshine. There were many other little clouds in the sky, but our\nlittle cloud kept apart from them all. It could see far and near over a\ngreat space of country, but nowhere could it espy the tree, and again\nit turned to the sun for help. \u201cCan you see?\u201d it cried. \u201cYou who see\neverywhere, where is my tree?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou can\u2019t see it yet,\u201d answered the sun, \u201cfor it is away on the other\nside of the world, but presently the wind will begin to blow and it\nwill blow you till you find it.\u201d\n\nThen the wind arose, and the cloud sailed along swiftly, looking\neverywhere as it went for the tree. It could have had a merry time if\nit had not longed so for its friend. Everywhere was the golden sunlight\nshining through the bright blue sky, and the other clouds tumbled and\ndanced in the wind and laughed for joy.\n\n\u201cWhy do you not come and dance with us?\u201d they cried; \u201cwhy do you sail\non so rapidly?\u201d\n\n\u201cI cannot stay, I am seeking a lost friend,\u201d answered the cloud, and\nit scudded past them, leaving them to roll over and over, and tumble\nabout, and change their shapes, and divide and separate, and play a\nthousand pranks.\n\nFor many hundred miles the wind blew the little cloud, then it said,\n\u201cNow I am tired and shall take you no further, but soon the west wind\nwill come and it will take you on; good-bye.\u201d And at once the wind\nstopped blowing and dropped to rest on the earth; and the cloud stood\nstill in the sky and looked all around.\n\n\u201cI shall never find it,\u201d it sighed. \u201cIt will be dead before I come.\u201d\n\nPresently the sun went down and the moon rose, then the west wind began\nto blow gently and moved the cloud slowly along.\n\n\u201cWhich way should I go, where is it?\u201d entreated the cloud.\n\n\u201cI know; I will take you straight to it,\u201d said the west wind. \u201cThe\nnorth wind has told me. I blew by the tree to-day; it was drooping, but\nwhen I told it that you had risen to the sky and were seeking it, it\nrevived and tried to lift its branches. They have planted it in a great\ngarden, and there are railings round it and no one may touch it; and\nthere is one gardener who has nothing to do but to attend to it, and\npeople come from far and near to look at it because it is so rare, and\nthey have only found one or two others like it, but it longs to be back\nin the desert, stooping over you and seeing its face in your water.\u201d\n\n\u201cMake haste, then,\u201d cried the cloud, \u201clest before I reach it I fall to\npieces with joy at the thought of seeing it.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow foolish you are!\u201d said the wind. \u201cWhy should you give yourself up\nfor a tree? You might dance about in the sky for long yet, and then you\nmight drop into the sea and mix with the waves and rise again with them\nto the sky, but if you fall about the tree you will go straight into\nthe dark earth, and perhaps you will always remain there, for at the\nroots of the tree they have made a deep hole and the sun cannot draw\nyou up through the earth under the branches.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: \u201cHave you come at last?\u201d the cried; \u201cthen we need never\nbe parted again.\u201d]\n\n\u201cThen that will be what I long for,\u201d cried the cloud. \u201cFor then I can\nlie in the dark where no one may see me, but I shall be close to my\ntree, and I can touch its roots and feed them, and when the raindrops\nfall from its branches they will run down to me and tell me how they\nlook.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are foolish,\u201d said the wind again; \u201cbut you shall have what you\nwant.\u201d\n\nThe wind blew the cloud low down near the earth till it found itself\nover a big garden, in which there were all sorts of trees and shrubs,\nand such soft green grass as the cloud had never seen before. And there\nin the middle of the grass, in a bed of earth to itself, with a railing\nround it so that no one could injure it, was the tree which the cloud\nhad come so far to seek. Its leaves were falling off, its branches were\ndrooping, and its buds dropped before they opened, and the poor tree\nlooked as if it were dying.\n\n\u201cThere is my tree, my tree!\u201d called the cloud. \u201cBlow me down, dear\nwind, so that I may fall upon it.\u201d\n\nThe wind blew the cloud lower and lower, till it almost touched the top\nbranches of the tree. Then it broke and fell in a shower, and crept\ndown through the earth to its roots, and when it felt its drops the\ntree lifted up its leaves and rejoiced, for it knew that the pool it\nhad loved so had followed it.\n\n\u201cHave you come at last?\u201d it cried. \u201cThen we need never be parted again.\u201d\n\nIn the morning when the gardeners came they found the tree looking\nquite fresh and well, and its leaves quite green and crisp. \u201cThe cool\nwind last night revived it,\u201d they said, \u201cand it looks as if it had\nrained too in the night, for round here the earth is quite damp.\u201d But\nthey did not know that under the earth at the tree\u2019s roots lay the\npool, and that that was what had saved the tree.\n\nAnd there it lies to this day, hidden away in the darkness where no\none can see it, but the tree feels it with its roots, and blooms in\nsplendour, and people come from far and near to admire it.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: NANINA\u2019S SHEEP]\n\nONCE there lived a young girl called Nanina, who kept sheep for an old\nfarmer. One day he said to her, \u201cNanina, I\u2019m going away to buy pigs\nat a market far off, and I shall be away one whole month, so be sure\nand take good care of the flock, and remember, there are six sheep\nand eight lambs, and I must find them safe when I return. And mind,\nNanina, that whatever you do, you don\u2019t go near the old palace on the\nother side of the hill, for it is filled with wicked fairies who might\ndo you an ill turn.\u201d Nanina promised, and her master started.\n\nThe first day all went well, and she drove the flock in safely at\nnight; but the next day she found it dull sitting on the hillside\nwatching the lambs at play, and wondered why her master had told her\nalways to keep on that side, and away from the old palace on the other.\n\n\u201cIf it is filled with fairies,\u201d quoth she, \u201cit won\u2019t hurt me just to\nlook at it; I should like to see a fairy.\u201d So she drove her flock to\nthe other side of the hill, and sat looking at the old palace that was\nhalf in ruins, but was said to be lit up quite brightly every night\nafter it was dark.\n\n\u201cI wonder if it really is lit up,\u201d said Nanina, \u201cI should like to see.\u201d\nSo she waited on that side of the hill till the sun went down, and\nthen she saw a bright light appearing in one of the palace windows.\nAs she stood and watched, the front door opened, and out there came a\nshepherd boy followed by a flock of black goats. Nanina stared at him,\nfor she had never seen any one so beautiful before. He was dressed in\nglittering green, and wore a soft brown hat trimmed with leaves under\nwhich his curls hung down. In one hand he held a crook and in the\nother a pipe, and as he drew near, he began to play the pipe and dance\nmerrily, while the goats behind him skipped and danced too. Nanina had\nnever seen such goats; they were jet black, with locks curling and\nthick and soft as silk. As she listened open-mouthed to the music of\nthe pipe, she heard it speak words in its playing:\u2014\n\n  \u201cWhen the young birds sing,\n  And the young plants spring,\n  Then dance we so merrily together, oh.\u201d\n\nThe shepherd boy danced lightly to where she stood, and louder and\nlouder sounded the pipe, and still it said\u2014\n\n  \u201cWhen the young birds sing,\n  And the young plants spring,\n  Then dance we so merrily together, oh.\u201d\n\nNanina gaped to see the goats dance and spring in time to the music,\nand so cheering it was, that she felt her own feet beginning to move\nwith it. The shepherd made her a low bow and offered her his hand,\nand she placed hers in it, and off they started together. Nanina\u2019s\nfeet felt as light as if they had been made of cork, and she laughed\nwith glee as she bounded on; and as she danced with the shepherd, so\nher flock began to move too, and thus they went, followed by the black\ngoats and sheep all skipping merrily. \u201cIf my flock follow me there can\nbe no harm,\u201d thought Nanina, and on they kept in time to the wonderful\ntune\u2014\n\n  \u201cWhen the young birds sing,\n  And the young plants spring,\n  Then dance we so merrily together, oh.\u201d\n\nWhither they went she knew not, she thought of nothing but the joy of\ndancing to the wonderful music; but suddenly, just ere sunrise, the\nshepherd stopped, and dropped her hand and gave one long slow note on\nthe pipe, at which the goats gathered round him, and before she knew\nwhere they were going, they had disappeared into the palace. Then she\nwas in a terrible fright, for she saw the sun beginning to rise, and\nfound the whole night had passed, when she thought she had only been\nten minutes. She counted her sheep, and, alas! there was one lamb\nmissing.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nShe sought everywhere for it, but no trace of it was to be seen. Then\nshe drove all the others back to the farm and watched them, falling\nhalf asleep, for she was weary with the dancing. But when evening\ncame, and she had slept some time, she said to herself, \u201cSurely the\nbest plan would be to go back to the old palace, and see if I can see\nthe shepherd and the black goats again.\u201d So just about sunset she\nreturned to the palace, and again the door opened, and the beautiful\nshepherd boy came out with the black goats following. But when he began\nto play on his pipe, and the goats to dance, Nanina forgot all about\nthe lost lamb and danced with him as before. Again they danced till\nmorning, and then he left her suddenly, and she found that another lamb\nhad disappeared. Then she wept and lamented, and declared that the next\nnight she would only watch the shepherd and nothing would make her\ndance; and again the next night the same thing happened; when once she\nheard the pipe, Nanina could not keep still, and another lamb was lost.\nThis went on to the end of a fortnight, when there was only one of the\nflock left. Then she was terribly frightened, for her master would soon\nreturn, and she did not know what she should say to him. But still she\nwent back and sat by the old palace, and when the shepherd came out,\nand she heard the music, she could not refrain from dancing, and in\nthe morning the last lamb had gone!\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAll the day Nanina wandered about and cried, but no sheep were to be\nfound. At last, when she was quite weary, she sat down beneath a beech\ntree near the palace, and leaned her head against its trunk sobbing.\nThen she saw that someone had torn down the lowest branches of the\ntree and they were hanging down broken. She raised them and tied them\nup, so that they would grow together, and as she did so she heard a\nshadowy voice whisper, \u201cThank you, Nanina; Nanina, don\u2019t dance.\u201d She\nlooked about but there was nobody there, and again she heard a whisper,\n\u201cNanina, don\u2019t dance.\u201d The voice came from the beech tree, and among\nthe leaves she saw a small twisted face looking at her. \u201cThank you,\nNanina, for saving my bough,\u201d said the tree, \u201cand if you mind me, you\nshall get all your sheep back again.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy sheep,\u201d cried Nanina. \u201cOnly tell me, and I will do anything.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you must not dance. Every time you refuse to dance with the\nfairy, one of your flock will be returned.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut how can I refuse to dance?\u201d cried Nanina, \u201cfor as I hear the\npipe beginning, my feet begin to move of themselves, it is no use my\ntrying,\u201d and she cried aloud.\n\n\u201cBury your feet in the earth like my roots,\u201d whispered back the voice.\n\u201cDig a hole deep down, and I will hold your feet so that you shall not\nmove them, only you must bear the pain, and not mind if you walk lame\nafterwards, for I shall hold them very tight, and it will hurt you.\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\u201cHurt me as you please,\u201d cried Nanina, \u201cand I shan\u2019t mind. If only I\ncan get back my sheep I will bear any pain.\u201d So she knelt beneath the\ntree, and dug a deep hole in the ground among its roots, and then she\nplaced her feet among the loose earth, and she felt something moving\nnear them which tightened around and drew them far down into the\nground, and held them as if they were bound with cords. She saw the\nlights in the windows of the palace, and the door opened. \u201cHold me,\nhold me fast,\u201d she cried, \u201cfor when I hear the music I shall begin to\ndance.\u201d The tree said nothing, but she felt its roots tightening so\nthat she could not move. The door of the palace opened as before, and\nthe beautiful shepherd, followed by his goats and her sheep, came out,\nand she heard once more the sound of the wonderful pipe, and he danced\nstraight up to the tree beneath which she stood, and held out his hand\nto her. Nanina felt as if her feet were beginning to move under the\nearth, but the roots of the tree held them so firmly that she could not\nstir one inch. Still the shepherd danced before her, and as she saw\nhim springing in front, with the flocks behind him following him, she\ngrew quite wild to dance, and tried her hardest to break her feet free\nfrom the roots which held them, but in vain, though she almost screamed\nwith the pain they cost her. For hours the shepherd danced in front\nof her, till, as before, the pipe sounded forth one long note, and he\ndisappeared, but this time not all the flock went with him, for beside\nher was left one of her own little lambs, and when she saw it she\ncried for joy. She felt the roots releasing their hold of her feet,\nand she drew them out of the earth, and they were all blue and bruised\nwhere they had been held. She drove home the lamb and fastened it into\nthe sheep-pen, but her feet were so stiff and swelled that she limped\nas she walked. Next night she went back to the beech tree, and again\nslipped her feet into its roots, and felt them twist around them; but\nthis time the poor feet were so sore that she cried when they touched\nthem. Again the fairy appeared, and again she heard the pipe, and her\nlonging to dance was worse than ever, but the roots clutched her and\nwould not let her stir. When the pipe ceased and the fairy disappeared,\nanother of her lambs was left with her, and she drove it home as she\nhad done the first, but she had to go very slowly on account of her\ncrushed feet.\n\nThe same thing happened the next night and the next, till all the flock\nhad returned save one, and Nanina\u2019s feet were so bad that she could\nscarcely hobble, for they were crushed and bleeding, and she wondered\nwhether she would walk lame all the days of her life.\n\nOn the last evening she limped down to the tree almost crying with\npain. When she sat down by its trunk she heard the soft sighing voice\nsaying, \u201cNever mind, Nanina; to-night is the last, and though it will\nhurt you the most, it will soon be past.\u201d So she slipped her feet into\nthe earth once more, though she shrank as they touched it, and directly\nthe sun had set, the lights appeared in the palace windows, and out\ncame the shepherd with all his black goats and her one white sheep\nfollowing him. He looked more beautiful than ever, for he had a crown\nset with jewels, and was dressed in scarlet and gold, but when the pipe\nbegan to play it was not merry dance-music it made, but long sad notes,\nlike a funeral march; yet Nanina\u2019s feet would have moved in spite of\nherself, and she would have marched in time to them, had not the roots\ntightened like cords and held her down. Tears of pain ran down her\ncheeks, and she sobbed, and instead of the joyous words what the music\nsaid was\u2014\n\n  \u201cJoin us, Nanina, dance again,\n  One last dance will ease your pain.\u201d\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  \u201cJoin us, Nanina, dance again,\n  One last dance will ease your pain.\u201d]\n\nPresently the music grew quicker, and her longing to move with it\ngrew stronger. She swayed herself about, and cried and screamed as\nthe fairy and flock danced, now solemnly and slowly, now joyously and\nwildly. Just when she felt that she could bear it no longer there came\none long low note on the pipe, and with a mighty crash like thunder the\nshepherd and the goats disappeared, and not only had they gone, but the\nwalls of the old palace had fallen, and nothing was left of it but a\nheap of stones. Beside her on the grass was the last of her lost sheep.\n\u201cGood-bye, Nanina,\u201d said the voice from the beech tree; \u201cnow you have\nall your flock again,\u201d and she felt the roots loosen round her feet,\nbut when she looked at them she found that her legs were wounded and\nbleeding, where she had dashed them about in trying to dance. She knelt\ndown and smoothed over the earth where it was torn up among the trees,\nand she put her arms round the trunk and kissed and thanked it for\nhaving helped her, but the voice did not speak again. Then she drove\nhome the last sheep, but she had to go on her hands and knees, for her\nfeet were too bad to walk.\n\nNext day when the farmer came home, he was well pleased that she had\nkept his flock safe, but he would fain know how she had got such sore\nfeet that for long she must walk lame. \u201cOf a truth, master,\u201d she quoth,\n\u201cit was in saving the lambs when they got into dangerous places.\u201d\n\nUnderneath the beech tree, where Nanina\u2019s feet had bled among the\nearth, there sprang up pretty little scarlet flowers, and whenever\nshe passed and saw them she remembered how she had been punished for\ndisobeying her master, and made up her mind never to do so again.\n\n[Illustration: THE END]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: THE GIPSY\u2019S CUP]\n\n\nIN a little village there lived a young potter, who made his living by\nmaking all sorts of earthenware. He took the clay, and made it into\nshapes on the wheel, and then baked his cups and jars in a kiln. He\nmade big jugs and little jugs, and basins and cups and saucers, and\nindeed every sort of pot or jar that could be wanted. He was very\nfond of his work, and was always thinking of how to make new shapes,\nor colour his jars with pretty colours. It was a very tiny village\nhe lived in, and he worked at throwing his pots on his wheel by the\nroad-side, but people came from many other villages and towns to buy\nhis ware. Once a year there was a big fair, held in the town near, and\njust before it, the potter was always very busy making new pots and\njugs to sell there. A few nights before the fair was to be held, he was\nhard at work, trying to finish a number of little bowls, so he sat at\nhis wheel late in the evening after the sun was set. All day long the\nroad had been gay with folk coming to the fair, some were in carts,\nand some were on foot, and there were a number of gipsies in caravans,\nbringing all sorts of goods to sell. Most of them went through the\nvillage and on to a big common a little further on, where they got out\nof their carts and put up tents, to sleep in while the fair went on.\nThe potter was so busy with his little basins on his turning wheel\nthat he did not hear the sound of footsteps, and when he looked up, he\nwas surprised to see a young gipsy girl standing near, watching him.\nShe was quite young, and had big black eyes, and rosy round cheeks,\nand her black hair was twisted up in little red beads and chains. She\nwas dressed in some very gay stuff, and round her neck was a gold\nnecklace, and on her fingers and arms were rings and bracelets.\n\n\u201cThat should be a fine cup,\u201d said the girl, \u201csince you keep your eyes\non it and can look at nothing else.\u201d\n\n\u201cI keep my eyes for my work, that I may do it well,\u201d said the potter,\n\u201cfor I live by my work, and neither by stealing nor begging.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut I fancy many others can do your work as well, or better than you,\u201d\nanswered the gipsy. \u201cWhat can your cups do when they are finished? I\ndon\u2019t hear you say anything to them, so I should think they would be\nstupid cups\u2014only fit to drink out of.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what else should they be for?\u201d asked the potter angrily. \u201cWhat do\nyou mean by saying that you don\u2019t hear me saying anything to my cups?\nI don\u2019t think you know what you are talking about. It is nonsense, and\nyou are talking nonsense.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy grandfather used to make pots on a wheel,\u201d said the gipsy, and she\nlaughed low, and showed her white teeth in the moonlight; \u201cah! but he\nknew how to do them, and he had charms to say to them when he threw\nthem. And one of his cups would make you wise if you drank out of it,\nand another would give you your true love\u2019s heart if she drank from it,\nand another would make you forget everything\u2014yes, even your true love,\nand all your mirth and all your sorrow, and I think that was the best\ncup of all;\u201d and again the gipsy laughed in the moonlight, and sang a\nlittle song to herself as she sat herself down before the potter.\n\n\u201cNow this is real child\u2019s talk,\u201d said the potter very impatiently.\n\u201c\u2019Tis easy to say your grandfather knew how to do all this, but why\nshould I believe you? and because your grandfather may have been able\nto throw a bowl upon the wheel, that doesn\u2019t make you know anything\nabout the craft, or how it is done.\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, but he taught me too,\u201d said the gipsy. \u201cGive me a piece of your\nclay, and let me come to your wheel and you shall see.\u201d\n\nAt first the potter thought she was talking nonsense, but to his great\nsurprise she took hold of the clay in her little brown hands, and\nmoulded and modelled it with the greatest skill. Then she placed it on\nthe wheel and threw a little jug, and he wondered to see how deft she\nwas.\n\n\u201cNow I will make you a little bowl,\u201d she said, and then she made jugs\nand pots and jars, far more quickly and skilfully than the potter could\nhave done. \u201cAnd now I will colour them too,\u201d she cried. \u201cSee, I shall\ncatch the colour from the moon, and to-morrow you can put them into\nyour kiln and bake them, and you may be sure that you have never had\nsuch pots there before.\u201d Then she put her little brown hands out into\nthe moonlight, and they were covered with rings which glittered and\nshone, but as she held up her palms to the moon\u2019s rays, it seemed to\nthe potter as if they too were full of some strange glittering liquid.\n\u201cAnd now,\u201d she said, \u201csee, I will put it on to your pots, and I should\nthink I had taught you that I know more about your trade than you do\nyourself.\u201d And she took the pots in her hands and rubbed her palms over\nthem, and she traced patterns on them with her fingers.\n\nThe potter looked at her and felt almost angry, but she only laughed in\nhis face.\n\n\u201cAnd now one last thing,\u201d she cried, \u201cand that is, that I will make\nyou a cup that has a spell in it, and it shall be a present for you\nto remember me by. It will be very plain, and there will be no gay\ncolours in it, but when you give it to your true love to drink from,\nif once you have drunk from it yourself, you will have all her heart,\nbut beware that she doesn\u2019t take a second draught. For though the first\ndraught that she drinks will be drunk to love, the second draught will\nbe drunk to hate, and though she have loved you more than all else on\nearth, all her love will turn to hate when she drinks again. And as you\nare so ignorant how to make bowls and cups, you will not know how to\nfashion one so as to win back her love again.\u201d\n\nThe potter stared in silence, while the gipsy took another bit of\nclay and placed it upon the wheel, and then she bent her head, which\nglittered with beads and coins, low over it, and placing her rosy lips\nclose to the mouth of the cup, sang some words into it, while she\nmoulded it with her hands, and turned the wheel with her foot. It was\nin some strange language that the potter had never heard before.\n\n\u201cGood-bye,\u201d she said presently. \u201cNow, there, that is for you, and be\nsure you do not sell the little brown cup, but keep it and give it to\nyour true love to drink out of; but only one draught, for if there\nare two maybe you will need the gipsy\u2019s help again.\u201d Then she laughed,\nand nodding her head over her shoulder, tripped lightly away in the\nmoonlight while the potter stared after her.\n\nAt first he thought he had been asleep, but there around him stood the\nlittle rows of jugs and pots which the gipsy had made, and truly they\nwere beautifully done. He took them up, and turned them over in his\nhand, and wondered at their shape and workmanship.\n\n\u201cTo-morrow,\u201d he said, \u201cI will put them into the kiln, and see how they\ncome out. She certainly was a clever wench, and knew her work; but as\nfor her talk about having coloured them, that was all nonsense, and as\nfor breathing spells and charms into the cups, why it is like baby\u2019s\ntalk.\u201d\n\nBut next day when the pots were baked, the potter was even more\nsurprised, for they had the most wonderful colours that he had ever\nseen: silver, blue, grey and yellow, in all sorts of patterns, all save\nthe little brown cup, which was the last the gipsy had made. But when\nhe looked at it the potter felt a little uncomfortable, and began to\nwonder if it really did contain the charm as she had declared.\n\nWhen the fair began, the potter placed all the gipsy\u2019s wares on a stall\nwith his own, and marked them with very high prices, but had he asked\nthree times as much he could have got it, for there were some rich folk\nfrom the big houses who came to the fair, and they at once bought them\nall up, declaring that such pots and jugs they had never seen. At this\nthe potter was well pleased, and found that he had made more money than\nhe had earned in many a long month past; but when people wanted him to\nmake them more like them, he was obliged to shake his head, and say,\n\u201cThat he was very sorry, but he had had them coloured from afar, and he\ndid not know where he could now have them done.\u201d Of the gipsy he saw\nnothing more, though he looked for her everywhere during the three days\nin which the fair lasted, but she was not to be seen, and when the fair\nwas over, and the other people were packing their carts and vans to go\non their way, he saw very many gipsies, and supposed that she had gone\nwith some of them, without giving him the chance of speaking to her\nagain.\n\nYears went by, and the potter never heard anything more of the gipsy,\nindeed he would have thought it had all been a dream if it had not been\nfor the little brown pot standing on the shelf. Sometimes he took it\nup, and looked at it, and wondered when he saw how well and cleverly it\nwas made. He still laughed when he remembered what the gipsy had said\nabout leaving a charm in it, for though he himself had drunk out of it\nmany times, he never thought it had brought any spell on him.\n\nOne year when the fair was being held, the potter was at his place\nas usual with his stall covered with pots, and there came and placed\nherself beside him at the next stall a woman with some spinning-wheels.\nHer stall was covered with fine linen cloths woven in pretty patterns,\nand so fine and well wrought were they, that many people wanted\nto buy them. With her were her two daughters, and one sat at the\nspinning-wheel and spun the flax, and the other had a hand-loom and\nwove it when it was spun to show the good folk how the cloths were\nmade. Both were pretty girls, but the girl who had the hand-loom had\nthe sweetest face the potter had ever seen. Her eyes were very blue,\nand her hair was like golden corn, and when she smiled, it was as if\nthe sun shone. The potter watched her as she sat weaving, and could\nnot keep his eyes from her or attend properly to his own pots, or to\nthe people who wanted to buy them. Every day he watched the young girl\nat her work, for the fair lasted for a week, and the more he looked at\nher the more he wanted to look, till at last he said to himself that\nsomehow or other he must get her for his wife; so when the fair was\ndone he begged her to marry him, and to remain with him, and he said he\nwould always work for her, and she should want for nothing. The mother\nwas a poor widow, and she and her daughters made their bread by going\nabout the country spinning and weaving, and she would have been quite\nwilling that the potter should marry her daughter, but the girl only\nlaughed, and said that she scarcely knew the potter, but when she came\nback again the next year to the fair, she would give him his answer. So\nthe widow and her two daughters went away, and no sign of them was left\nwith the potter, save a lock of golden hair, which he had begged from\nthe daughter.\n\nThe year passed away, but to the potter it seemed the longest year he\nhad ever lived. He pined for the time to come when the fair should\nbe held, and the widow and her daughters should return. As the time\ndrew near he got down the brown cup, and looked at it again and again.\n\u201cNay,\u201d he said, \u201cwhat harm could it do? the gipsy said it would give me\nmy true love\u2019s heart if she drank out of it after I had drunk, and I\nhave drunk out of it many a time. I don\u2019t believe it, but all the same\nit would be no harm for her to drink from it.\u201d\n\nAnd so when the fair was opened, he took the brown cup down with him,\nand stood it upon the stall with his other ware. The spinning woman and\nher two daughters came back with their fine cloths, and their wheel\nand their loom, and when he saw the golden-haired girl, he loved her\nstill more than before, for he thought her eyes were bluer and her\nsmile was brighter. He watched her all the time as she sat weaving, but\nsaid nothing, but when the fair was over, and they were packing their\ngoods to go on their way, he pressed the maid for her answer. Still\nshe hesitated, and then the potter took the little brown cup off his\nstall, and poured into it some choice wine, and said to her,\n\n\u201cIf then you wish to go away, and never see me again, I pray you drink\none draught, in remembrance of the happy days we have had together.\u201d\n\nThe young girl took the cup, but no sooner had she tasted it than she\nput it down and turned her eyes on the potter, and said in a low voice,\n\n\u201cI will stay with you always, if you want me, and will be a true wife\nto you, and love you better than anything on earth.\u201d\n\nSo the potter married her, and she went to live in his little cottage.\n\nTime passed, and the potter and his young wife lived together very\nhappily, and every day he thought her fairer and sweeter. And they had\na little baby girl with blue eyes like its mother\u2019s, and the potter\nthought himself the happiest man on earth, and the little brown pot\nstood on the shelf, and the potter looked at it, and still he would not\nbelieve about the charm, for he said to himself, \u201cMy wife loved me for\nmy own sake, and not for any silly charm or nonsense.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: \u201cI pray you drink one draught, in remembrance of the\nhappy days we have had together.\u201d]\n\nSo for a time all things went well, but there came a day when the\npotter had to go to a neighbouring town and leave his wife at home\nalone all day. When he was gone she sat by the window with her little\nchild, and presently there came up outside a dark, rough-looking man,\nwith a wicked face, and he looked at her as she sat rocking the cradle,\nand thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen on earth.\nWhen he looked at her the potter\u2019s wife was frightened, but when he\ntold her he was very hungry, and begged her for food and drink, she\nrose, for her heart was tender, and she fetched him bread and meat, and\nspread them on the table before him. So the rough man came into the\ncottage and sat at the table, and ate the potter\u2019s bread and meat, and\ndrank his wine. \u201cAnd who is your husband, and where is he?\u201d he said. \u201cI\nam sure he is a lucky man to have such a wife and such a home.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, truly,\u201d said the potter\u2019s wife. \u201cWe are very happy, and we love\neach other dearly, and we really have nothing else to wish for.\u201d\n\nThen the gipsy man said, \u201cBut your dress is plain, and your rooms are\nbare; now, were you the wife of some wealthy man, he would give you\npearls and diamonds for your neck, and beautiful silks and satins.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, but I don\u2019t want them,\u201d said the potter\u2019s wife smiling. \u201cMy\nhusband works very hard, and he gives me all he can, and I am quite\ncontent with it.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you say he is a potter; then what sort of things does he make?\u201d\nasked the gipsy man as he cast his eyes about the room, and they lit\nupon the little brown jug standing upon the shelf. \u201cAnd did he make the\nlittle bowl there?\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d said his wife, and she took it down and turned it about\nin her hand. \u201cI suppose so, but he has told me it was very old.\u201d\n\nThe gipsy man seized it eagerly, and poured wine in it, and looked\ninside it, and then he laughed, and stooping his head over it, said a\nfew words, and then laughed again.\n\n\u201cI have seen cups like this before,\u201d he said. \u201cAnd they are worth a\nmint of money, though you would not think it. And have you never drunk\nout of it? Has it not been used?\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t drink from it,\u201d said the potter\u2019s wife, \u201cbut I believe I did\nso once, and that was on the day when I promised my husband I would be\nhis wife.\u201d\n\nThen the gipsy laughed again and again. \u201cSee,\u201d he said, \u201cI am going a\nlong way off, perhaps to die by cold and hunger by the road-side, while\nyou and your husband are cosy and warm. You set small store by this\ncup, but it may be that in foreign countries I could sell it for what\nwould keep me for many a long day. Give it to me, I pray you, that I\nmay take it with me.\u201d\n\nThe potter\u2019s wife hesitated and trembled. She was afraid of the man,\nand she thought he had a hard, bad face, but she did not want to seem\nunkind.\n\n\u201cWell, take it,\u201d she said; \u201cbut why should you want it?\u201d\n\nThen the gipsy man came and caught her by the arm. \u201cNow,\u201d he said,\n\u201cyou are the fairest woman I have ever seen, and I am going away, and\nshall never see you again. So I beg you wish me God-speed, and drink my\nhealth out of the little brown cup you have given me. And if your lips\nhave touched it, it will be the dearest thing I have on earth!\u201d\n\nThen the potter\u2019s wife was still more frightened, and trembled more\nthan before. But the man looked so dark and threatening, that she did\nnot like to refuse him, and she took the cup in her hand,\n\n\u201cAnd then you will go on your way,\u201d she said.\n\n\u201cAnd then I shall go on my way,\u201d cried the gipsy. \u201cAnd you will wait\nhere till your husband comes, whom you love more than anything else on\nthis earth.\u201d\n\nThen the potter\u2019s wife bent her head and tasted the wine out of the\ncup, and wished the gipsy happiness. And when she had done so he\nlaughed again, long and low, till her heart sank with fear, and he\npicked up the cup and put it into his bundle, and went his way. Then\nthe potter\u2019s wife sat down by the cradle, and almost cried, she knew\nnot why, and the whole room seemed cold, and when she looked out at the\nsunshine it looked dark, and she bent over the baby in the cradle with\nher tears falling.\n\n\u201cAlack!\u201d she cried, \u201cwhy doesn\u2019t my husband come home? Where is he\ngone? How cruel it is to leave me all alone here, so that any rough\nman may come into the house. In truth I don\u2019t think he can love me\nmuch, since all he thinks of is to go away and leave me; and as for me,\nsurely I could have had many a better husband, and one who should have\nloved me more. How foolish I was to marry him.\u201d\n\nThus she sat and lamented all day, and in the evening, when the potter\ndrove up to his door and cried out \u201cWife, wife,\u201d she wouldn\u2019t go out\nto receive him. And when he came in to their little sitting-room, he\nfound her with tears in her eyes, sitting lamenting and complaining.\nWhen he went up to her to take her in his arms and kiss her, she turned\naway from him and would not let him touch her, and the potter, who had\nnever seen his wife cross or angry, knew that there must be something\nwrong. She must be ill, he thought; to-morrow or the next day she will\nbe well again. So he urged her to rest well, and took no notice of her\nangry words; but the next day, and the next, there was no change, and\nthings were growing from bad to worse. For now the wife wouldn\u2019t speak\nto him at all, and when she came nigh him she looked at him with anger,\nand would not even suffer him to touch the hem of her dress. Then the\npotter began to think of the little brown cup, and he looked up at the\nshelf and saw that it was not there, and he began to feel very much\nalarmed.\n\n\u201cWhy,\u201d he said, \u201cwhat has become of my little old brown cup that used\nto stand up on the shelf?\u201d\n\n\u201cI gave it to a gipsy man,\u201d she answered scornfully. \u201cHe seemed to like\nit, and I didn\u2019t see that I was obliged to keep all the rubbish that\nyou had in the house.\u201d\n\nThen the potter groaned within himself and said,\n\n\u201cBut did you just take it off the shelf and give it to him, and did he\nask you for it? Why did he want it?\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course he asked for it,\u201d said the wife very angrily, \u201cand I just\ngave it him when I had drunk his health out of it, as he wished me to.\u201d\n\nThen the potter was stricken with deadly fear, and remembered the words\nof the gipsy. \u201cThe first draught she will drink to your love, and the\nsecond draught she will drink to your hate,\u201d and he knew in his heart\nthat the words were true, and that the cup carried with it a charm.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nHe sat and thought and thought, and waited many days, hoping that his\nwife would change, and love him as before, but she remained cold and\nhard. Then the potter packed a wallet full of clothes, and put some\nmoney in his pocket, and he went to his wife and said, \u201cWife, there is\na man somewhere who has done me a great wrong, and perhaps he did it\nunwittingly. I am going out to find him, and to make him right it, and\nthough you do not love me, you will bide here quietly with your baby\ntill I come back. And I do not know if that will be in months or in\nyears.\u201d Then the potter\u2019s wife fell a-crying.\n\n\u201cI do not love you, nay, I hate you, and shall be glad when you have\ngone, but perhaps it may be because I am a wicked woman; and I do not\nknow what has come over me, that now I want to fly away from you, when\nI used to think that I had the best husband on all this earth.\u201d The\npotter sighed bitterly, but he kissed her cheeks, which felt as cold as\nice, and then he said good-bye to his baby, and started on his way with\nthe tears filling his eyes.\n\nWhen the potter had gone the wife cried sorely, but still she was glad\nthat she had not to see him, and for some time she lived with her baby\nhappily enough. She kept the house, and mended and swept and cleaned as\nbefore, and thought little of the potter or where he had gone; but by\nand by all her money began to be spent, and she knew that unless the\npotter returned she would soon be very poor, and the winter was coming\non, and she feared cold and hunger for her little one. So she went into\na garret where she kept her old weaving loom, and she brought it out,\nand she bought flax, and sat down to weave just as she used to, when\nshe went round the country with her sister who spun the flax. And she\nfound that she could still weave her cloths very skilfully, and she\nbegan to sell them to the passers by, and in this way she earned her\nbread.\n\nThe winter set in very cold and hard, and the potter\u2019s wife felt very\nsad. \u201cBut perhaps,\u201d she said, \u201cit is thinking of the poor things\nwho are starving around with no homes,\u201d for she never thought of\nher husband at all. And the flax began to be very dear, and she had\ndifficulty in buying it. \u201cInstead of doing all these cheap clothes,\u201d\nshe said, \u201cit would be better to get very fine flax, and do a very very\nfine cloth; it will be the finest cloth I have ever woven, and I will\nsell it to some very rich lady.\u201d So she bought the finest flax that\nmoney could bring her, and when she had woven a little bit of it, she\nsat and looked at it in her room, and she saw a tress of her own golden\nhair lying upon it, and she thought how beautiful it looked. Then she\nsaid\u2014\n\n\u201cThere is no one now who loves me or my hair, so I will weave it into\na cloth with this very fine flax, and I must sell it for a very large\nsum of money, or else I shall have nothing left to go on with.\u201d But\nshe couldn\u2019t think of any pattern in which the hair looked well with\nthe fine linen flax, till at last she hit on one in which there was a\ncup with a heart on the top of it. The cup she made of the gold hair,\nand the heart also. She worked at it for many long days, and when she\nhad finished it she looked at it, and was very much pleased, and said\nindeed it was the most beautiful cloth she had ever made; and now she\nmust make haste and take it in to the town and sell it for a great deal\nof money, or she and her child would begin to do badly for food and\nfire.\n\nThe snow was lying heavily upon the ground, as the potter\u2019s wife stood\nby the window looking at her cloth, when there crawled up outside the\nwindow a poor gipsy woman leading a little boy by the hand. She had\nbig black eyes and a brown face, but her cheeks were so thin that the\ncolour scarcely showed in them, and the potter himself would have had\nmuch ado to recognize her as the gipsy girl who made the cup years\nbefore; and her clothes all hung upon her in rags, and her little boy\nwas crying bitterly with the cold. She knocked against the window with\nher poor thin hands. \u201cTake me in,\u201d she cried, \u201cand have pity on me,\nfor I can go no further.\u201d Then the potter\u2019s wife opened the door, and\nthe gipsy woman entered the room with her little boy by her side, and\ncrouched by the fire.\n\n\u201cWhere is the potter who lived here?\u201d said the gipsy. \u201cIt is long years\nago since I saw him, and now I have come back to pray that he would\ngive me food, for I am starving.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d said the wife, \u201cI know not where he is, for he is my husband, and\nhe has left me, and right glad of it am I; but if you will stay here I\nwill give you food and drink and attend to you, for, poor woman, you\nseem to me to be very ill; so stay here and I will attend to you till\nyou are well enough to go your way.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is only one way that I shall ever go,\u201d said the gipsy, and she\nlooked into the fire with her big black eyes, \u201cand that is the road\nwhich leads to the churchyard. But if he was your husband, why do you\nsay that you are glad he is away? Is he not kind to you?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe was very kind to me,\u201d said the potter\u2019s wife, \u201che gave me\neverything I wanted, and money and to spare, but for all that I could\nnot love him, and I am glad he has gone, and left me alone with my baby\ngirl.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are a foolish woman,\u201d said the gipsy. \u201cIf you had a husband who\nloved you and worked for you well, you should have loved him and\ncherished him. My husband beat me, and was cruel to me, and stole all I\nhad. And now that I am dying, he has deserted me to die as I may.\u201d\n\nThen the potter\u2019s wife brought her food and bid her lie down, and dried\nher rags of clothes, and she wrapped the little boy in her own clothes,\nand gave him food and put him to sleep; and as she lay, the gipsy woman\nwatched her with her great black eyes, and at last she said, \u201cHave you\na brown cup here, a little rough brown cup? did your husband give it to\nyou?\u201d\n\nThe potter\u2019s wife stared with astonishment. \u201cHow did you know I had a\nlittle rough brown cup?\u201d she said. \u201cThere was such a one, and it stood\nupon the shelf, but I have given it away. I gave it to a poor gipsy man\nwho begged it of me; he wanted it so badly that I couldn\u2019t refuse, and\nhe made me drink his health in it ere he took it away.\u201d\n\nThen the gipsy woman raised her head, and her eyes looked blacker and\nher cheeks blacker.\n\n\u201cAnd what was the gipsy man like?\u201d she cried. \u201cHad you drunk from the\ncup before? Can you remember?\u201d\n\n\u201cI remember well,\u201d said the woman. \u201cI drank from it on the day when I\npromised I would marry my husband, and I drank from it once again when\nI wished the gipsy God-speed, and soon after that, my husband left me,\nfor I could not bear to have him near me.\u201d\n\nThen the gipsy cried out aloud, and said something in a language which\nthe woman did not understand, and beat her hands.\n\n\u201cI think it was my husband,\u201d she said. \u201cAlack a day! to-morrow night\nI shall die, and who will take care of my little boy, and see that he\ndoes not starve? for his father would beat and ill-treat him if he\nfound him.\u201d Then the potter\u2019s wife kneeled down beside the gipsy woman,\nand kissed her on the forehead.\n\n\u201cBe at peace,\u201d she said. \u201cIf it be that you must die, die with a\nquiet heart, for I will keep your little boy. What is enough for two\nis enough for three, and he shall call my little girl sister and me\nmother.\u201d\n\nThe gipsy said nothing, but she looked at the potter\u2019s wife for long,\nand then she said, \u201cAnd my clothes are all in rags, and I have no\ngarment in which you can wrap me for my grave.\u201d\n\nThen the potter\u2019s wife began to cry. \u201cBe at peace,\u201d she said, \u201cfor I\nhave a fine cloth made of flax and my own hair, and in it you can lie\nclad like a princess.\u201d\n\nThen again the gipsy woman cried out words that the potter\u2019s wife did\nnot understand, and again she beat her breast and lamented. But as\nevening drew nigh she turned to the potter\u2019s wife, and told her all the\ntruth about the charms in the cup, and wept for the evil she had done\nher, who was so good and kind.\n\nThe potter\u2019s wife sat by her all that day, and into the dark hours of\nthe night, but when it was drawing nigh to twelve o\u2019clock the gipsy\nwoman sat up, and stretched out her arms. \u201cThe wheel,\u201d she cried,\n\u201cbring me your husband\u2019s wheel, and give me a piece of clay, that while\nthere is yet time I may throw my last cup, and you may drink from it\nbefore the dawn and undo the harm I have worked.\u201d\n\nThe potter\u2019s wife wondered much, but she feared to disobey her, and she\nwent out into her husband\u2019s workshop, and she brought in his wheel and\na piece of clay which stood there, and placed them beside the gipsy.\nThe gipsy was so weak that she could scarcely sit up, but when she saw\nthe wheel she staggered to her feet, and took the clay in her thin\nlittle brown hands, and moulded it as she had done years before; and\nthen she set it on the wheel, and set the wheel spinning, and formed it\ninto a little brown bowl, and bent her head over it, and whispered into\nit.\n\n\u201cNow drink,\u201d she cried, \u201calthough the clay is still wet. Pour water\ninto it and drink from my little bowl, and wish me God-speed as you did\nto my husband. And then dress me in white and gold like a princess, for\nI must start upon my journey. But keep my little boy always, and if my\nhusband comes to search for me, give him my ring, but tell him that he\nshall never find me more.\u201d\n\nThe potter\u2019s wife poured some water into the little clay cup, and\nstooped her face and drank it, that the woman might be content, and\nwhen she had done so, the gipsy folded her hands and lay back and\ndied. But when she had tasted the water out of the wet clay, the\npotter\u2019s wife thought of her husband, and she called his name, and\ncried to him to come and help her with the poor gipsy woman. And then\nshe thought of how long it was since he had been with her, and she\nbegan to cry, and wept bitterly as she leant over the dead woman.\n\n\u201cOh, where is he gone? why did I drive him from me?\u201d she said. \u201cHave\nI been mad? Truly the poor gipsy spoke rightly, that if a woman has a\nhusband who loves her and works for her, she should cherish him with\nall her might. Alas, alas! and now my husband is out in the wide world,\nand I am alone here with no one to help me; until this poor woman told\nme, I never knew how wrong I was.\u201d Then she looked at the gipsy woman\nlying in all her rags, and she remembered her promise to her, and she\ntook the fine linen cloth in which was woven the gold heart and the\ngilt cup, and she clothed her in it as if she were a princess, and the\nnext day the poor woman was buried, and no one knew from whence she\ncame nor to whom she belonged.\n\nThen the potter\u2019s wife sat down, and grieved bitterly, for she didn\u2019t\nknow what it would be best to do to find her husband again, and tell\nhim that she loved him as at first. At first she thought she would go\nout and seek for him in the wide, wide world, but then she remembered\nhow he bid her wait where she was till he came back, and she knew she\nought to do what he had told her; but as now she had three to keep\ninstead of two, she feared they would be very poor, and as she had\nburied the gipsy in the fine gold and white cloth woven with her hair,\nshe had not got it to sell, and she had not any money left wherewith\nto buy more fine thread to weave. The gipsy\u2019s little boy was a pretty\nboy, with dark eyes like his mother\u2019s, and when she looked at him she\nsaid they would all three starve together, but she would keep him, as\nshe had promised his mother, rather than turn him out into the cold\nstreets. So she washed him, and mended his rags as best she might, and\nthen she began to seek everywhere for something she might weave to\nsell, and keep them from starving. She wandered round the garden, and\nin and out of the house, and the gipsy boy, who was a clever, bright\nlad, went with her.\n\n\u201cWhat are you searching for?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cI am searching for thread, that I may weave into some kind of cloth\nand sell,\u201d she said. \u201cOtherwise we shall surely starve, for I have no\nmoney left to buy it with, and nothing more left to sell.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will go and get you something to weave,\u201d said the boy, and he ran\nout into the road, and looked up and down it to see what would come\npast. Presently there came up a big cart laden with straw, and on the\ntop of the cart lay one man, while another drove. The horses went\nslowly, and the gipsy boy followed them, and began to beg.\n\n\u201cRun off, little chap,\u201d cried the man at the top, \u201cI have no money to\ngive to beggars.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut I don\u2019t ask you for money,\u201d cried the boy, \u201cbut of your charity\ngive me a handful of straw.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what do you want with a handful of straw?\u201d asked the carter, as\nthe boy still went on begging.\n\n\u201cWhy, see!\u201d cried the lad, \u201cI am all in rags, but if my mother had a\nhandful of straw she can weave me a coat, and I shall be quite warm,\u201d\nat which the men both laughed, and declared that the idea of a coat\nof straw was very funny, but the driver said, \u201cWell, give some to the\nlittle chap. I expect he comes from a lot of lying gipsies further on,\nand they want it for their animals, still it won\u2019t do any harm to give\nhim a few wisps,\u201d and so they flung down a bundle, and the boy picked\nit up, and ran back with it to the potter\u2019s wife.\n\n\u201cSee what I have brought you,\u201d he cried. \u201cNow make that into a mat, and\nI will take it out and sell it, and bring you back the money.\u201d\n\nThe potter\u2019s wife was amazed by his cleverness, but she knew that the\ngipsies had to live by their wits, and that teaches them to be sharp,\nso she sat down, and tried to weave the straw into a mat, as the gipsy\nboy had said.\n\nAt first she found it very hard to use, for it was coarse and brittle,\nand she thought she could make nothing of it. The lad sat beside her,\nand cut it into even lengths for her, and chose out the good pieces,\nand at last betwixt them it was done, and it looked quite a smart\nlittle mat, and the boy took it on his back and ran away with it to the\nvillage.\n\n\u201cA mat, a mat,\u201d he cried, \u201cwho wants to buy a good straw mat to wipe\ntheir feet on when they are dirty, or for the cat to sit on by the\nfire, or to put over the fowl-house and keep it warm?\u201d\n\nAt first all the people he met laughed at him, and said nobody wished\nto buy a mat at all. Then he turned into the ale-house. There were\nsome men smoking and keeping themselves warm by the fire, and when the\nhost saw him, and the mat over his shoulder, he said it was quite a\nwell-made thing, and he would have it to lay down by his doorway for\nin-comers to tread on; and then one and another looked at it, and the\nboy told them where it came from, and said he could bring them plenty\nmore straw mats and carpets, all as good or better, and so well worked\nthat they would last almost for ever; and presently one and another\nbegan to say that they would buy them, and when he had taken his money,\nthe gipsy boy ran home well content.\n\nSo the potter\u2019s wife sat all day weaving straw mats, and presently she\ngot to do them so well, that from far and near the people sent to buy\nthem of her. Then after a time she put patterns into them, made with\nred, and black, and white straws, but do what she could, the patterns\nalways came out in the shape of a cup, and still she wept and grieved\nall day long. Then the gipsy lad said to her\u2014\n\n\u201cWhat are you crying for now? You have plenty to eat and drink. Tell me\nwhy you are crying, and I will help you if I can, because you took my\nmother into your house to die, and buried her in your fine cloth like a\nprincess.\u201d\n\n\u201cI cry because my husband has gone a long way off,\u201d said the potter\u2019s\nwife, \u201cand he doesn\u2019t know that I love him, and he will never come back\nto me, for when he went away I hated him.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe will never know it if you don\u2019t try to tell him,\u201d said the gipsy\nboy. \u201cYou should tell it to every one you meet, to all the birds of the\nair, and the wild animals too. That is what my mother told me to do,\nif I wanted to send news abroad. You should say it even to the winds,\nand write it in the sand, and on the earth, and on the leaves of the\ntrees in case they blow about, for she said all things could pass on a\nsecret, though none can keep one. And why don\u2019t you weave it into your\nmats too? For the people who buy them take them far and near, and maybe\nhe will see one, and know that you want him to come home again.\u201d\n\nThen the potter\u2019s wife tried to weave her secret into her mats, and\nbeside the pattern of the cup she wove a little verse\u2014\n\n  \u201cFrom the gipsy\u2019s cup I drank for love,\n  From the gipsy\u2019s cup I drank for hate,\n  But when she gave me a cup again\n  My love had gone and I drank too late.\u201d\n\n\u201cNow,\u201d cried the gipsy boy, \u201cyour husband may see it, and perhaps he\nwill come home, and all will be well with us.\u201d\n\nBut still the potter journeyed far into the world, and wherever he went\nhe asked if any gipsy had been near there; and if there happened to be\na gipsy camp in the neighbourhood, he went to it at once, and asked\nfor a gipsy woman with red beads and gold chains in her hair, or for a\ngipsy man who carried a brown cup with him. But though he saw hundreds\nof gipsies, yet he never again saw the girl who had thrown the cup,\nand none of the men knew anything about the man, nor could tell him\nanything about the little brown bowl. Then he went to the shops in the\nbig towns where jars and bowls are sold, and asked for a cup that had\na spell in it, for he thought if they sold such a one, they might know\nhow to help him to undo the work of the gipsy\u2019s bowl, but everywhere\nthe people only laughed at him.\n\nSo he went through strange countries, seeing strange things, but none\nof them gave him any pleasure, since he was always thinking of his wife\nat home. Then he returned to his native land, and pondered whether he\nshould go back to his own cottage, but his heart failed him, and he\nkept far from the little village where it stood.\n\n\u201cIt would be little use to go home,\u201d he said, \u201cfor if my wife is not\nglad to see me, it is no home to me; and she will not be glad to see me\ntill I can find the gipsy and know how the charm can be broken.\u201d\n\nOne night he went into a booth where there were a number of men\ndrinking, and amongst them there was one who looked like a gipsy, a\ndark, savage-looking fellow who was talking loud, and boasting much\nof all he had done. The potter sat and listened to their talk, and\npresently they began quarrelling, and talking about who was the most\nbeautiful woman in the world. The gipsy cried out that he knew the\nmost beautiful, and that she had given him a parting gift and wished\nhim God-speed, and now he was going back to her, for he knew now the\nway to make her love him, and he meant to wed her and have her for his\nwife.\n\nUpon this the others laughed and jeered, and said, was it likely that\nsuch a beautiful woman would care for such a rough, ill-favoured fellow\nas he, and declared they didn\u2019t think much of her beauty if she was\nwilling to marry him and to be his wife.\n\nThen another man standing near said that he knew where lived the most\nbeautiful woman on the face of the earth, though he did not believe\nthat she would ever be wife of his, still all the same it would be hard\nto beat her for loveliness; and she was a clever worker too, for she it\nwas who worked the mats that lay under his feet in the cart he drove.\nUpon this they all began to wrangle, and their words grew high.\n\n\u201cAnd if the beautiful woman loved you so,\u201d cried one man to the gipsy,\n\u201chow could you come away and leave her?\u201d\n\nThe gipsy laughed. \u201cShe didn\u2019t love me then,\u201d he said, \u201cbut she will\nnow, for I am taking her a charm which will make her love me more than\nany one on earth. She has only to drink out of the cup I carry here,\nand she will be mine for life.\u201d\n\nUpon this they all laughed, and derided him still more.\n\n\u201cThen let every one believe that what I say is true,\u201d cried the gipsy,\nand from his bosom he took out a small brown bowl and waved it in the\nair, \u201cand here is the cup to prove it.\u201d And the potter\u2019s heart almost\nstood still, for he recognized the cup which the gipsy girl had made\nfor him years before.\n\nThe other man laughed scornfully. \u201cThat proves nothing,\u201d he said. \u201cI\nmight take the mat out from the cart and ask it to say if I spoke the\ntruth; but mats and cups have no tongues to speak with, though my mat\ncan say more than your cup, for there is a rhyme on it with a pattern\nof a cup; moreover, the rhyme is about a gipsy too.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet us see it,\u201d cried they all.\n\nThen the man went out to his cart and fetched in a white and brown\nstraw mat, covered with a pattern made of cups, and he read the rhyme\nwhich was written upon it\u2014\n\n  \u201cFrom the gipsy\u2019s cup I drank for love,\n  From the gipsy\u2019s cup I drank for hate,\n  And when she gave me that cup again\n  My love was gone and I drank too late.\u201d\n\nOn hearing this the potter jumped up, and dashed into their midst, and\nseized the cup.\n\n\u201cThe gipsy speaks truth,\u201d he cried, \u201cwhen he says she is the most\nbeautiful woman in the world, but he speaks false when he says that she\nwill ever love him; for he has stolen that cup, and I shall take it\nfrom him, and if he tries to stop me, why then I will fight him, and\nlet every one see who is the better fellow of the two.\u201d\n\nBut when the gipsy had seen the rhyme upon the mat, he stood and stared\nas if he were made of stone, and said no word to the potter, and indeed\nscarcely seemed to notice that he had taken away the cup from him. Then\nthe potter turned to the man who owned the mat and said, \u201cIf you will\nsell me your mat I will pay you handsomely for it, and I beg you to\ntell me who made it, and where you got it, for I would like to buy some\nmore like it.\u201d\n\nThe traveller was much astonished, but he told the potter that it was\nmade by a woman who lived in a village a little way off, and she sat by\nher doorway and wove mats, with a gipsy boy to help her; and she was\nthe loveliest woman he had ever seen on earth, with eyes just like blue\ncornflowers and hair like golden corn. Then the potter took his bowl\nand the mat and started to go home, but the gipsy slunk out of the room\nand went into the night, and nobody noticed him.\n\nMeantime the potter\u2019s wife continued to grieve and lament, for in spite\nof her taking the gipsy boy\u2019s advice, and telling all things that she\nloved her husband and wished him back, he did not come back to her; and\nthough she wove her rhyme into every mat that she made, she despaired\nof the potter\u2019s ever seeing one. The only thing which seemed to console\nher, was the little brown clay cup that the gipsy woman had thrown for\nher, before she died. As it had never been baked in the oven, the clay\nwas dry and hard and cracked, and it was a sorry thing to look at, but\nstill the potter\u2019s wife kept it beside her, and would drink out of\nnothing else, and from time to time she kissed it, and laid her cheek\nagainst it.\n\nThe gipsy boy said to her\u2014\n\n\u201cIf I were you I should watch for my husband all day. I would weave my\nmats in the doorway, and look up the road both ways, from morn till\nnight, otherwise your husband will come back and go past the cottage\nand you will never know.\u201d So she took her loom and sat by the roadway,\nand watched, and looked over the hill and to right and left for whoever\nmight come. And often the gipsy boy would watch too, and look from the\nother side of the cottage while the potter\u2019s wife sat in the front. One\nday the gipsy boy ran round to her and said, \u201cThere is some one coming\nup the road who will come here, but it is not your husband. It is my\nfather, and he will want to take me away, and he will beat me as he did\nmy mother. And if he gets hold of the cup that my mother made for you,\nhe knows all her charms, and he can undo what she did, and perhaps can\nthrow some evil spell on us all, so that your husband will never return\nagain. So the best thing will be for you to give me the cup and let me\nhide myself with it, and then you must tell him that you do not know\nwhere I am, and if he asks, tell him that the cup is gone; and when he\nis gone I will come back again, but promise that you will not give me\nup to him.\u201d\n\nSo the potter\u2019s wife promised that she would never give up the little\nboy, and she bid him take the cup and run quickly and hide himself, and\nthen she took her little girl by the hand and sat and waited for the\ngipsy man to come, though she trembled with fear, and wished him far\naway.\n\nPresently the gipsy man came up to the front of the cottage where the\npotter\u2019s wife sat, and bid her good-day.\n\n\u201cI was here before,\u201d he said. \u201cAnd you gave me something to eat and\ndrink. Is your husband come back, for he was away then?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy husband is away still,\u201d she said. \u201cBut soon I hope he will be here.\u201d\n\nThen the gipsy took up one of her mats which lay on the ground beside\nher, and looked at it.\n\n\u201cYou are clever with your loom,\u201d he said; \u201cbut what do you mean by the\nlittle verse you put on all these mats?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is a little verse which can but be rightly read by one person,\u201d\nshe answered; \u201cand if he sees it, it will not matter whether others\nunderstand it or no.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd have you been here all alone since I came by?\u201d asked the gipsy;\n\u201chave no other gipsies been past? for I want to join some of my own\npeople, and perhaps you can tell me which way they are gone.\u201d\n\n\u201cOne came not so long ago,\u201d answered the potter\u2019s wife, \u201cbut she was\nso tired with tramping far that she could go no further. So she has\nstayed, and rests in the churchyard. She was a gipsy woman with red\nbeads and coins in her hair. And I kept her and let her die in peace,\nand wrapped her in a cloth of white and gold.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd did she do nothing while she rested here?\u201d asked the gipsy man.\n\u201cDid she make you no present to pay you for your trouble?\u201d\n\n\u201cShe made me a present which paid me for my trouble well,\u201d said the\nwoman, \u201cthough it was only a little cup of clay that was grey and wet.\nAnd she gave me this ring, and bid me give it to her husband if he came\nby here, and tell him that it was useless for him to seek her further.\u201d\n\nThe gipsy man looked at the ring she held out to him, and he turned\npale, and knit his brows.\n\n\u201cAnd where is that cup?\u201d he asked; \u201cand where is her little boy? For I\nwill take him with me into the world.\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know where he is gone,\u201d said the potter\u2019s wife; \u201cas for the\ncup, he took it with him when he went.\u201d\n\nMeantime the gipsy boy had hidden in a hay-stack quite close to the\ncottage, from where he could see the roadways all round, and he looked\nto right and left for who should pass, for he was still half afraid\nthat his father might come and search for him, and take him away by\nforce. As he lay and watched he saw a man coming over the hill, who\nlooked spent and tired, as if he had walked far. He seemed to know the\npath well, and he came straight to the cottage, but he did not come in,\nbut waited near as if he wanted to see who was there. Then the gipsy\nboy said to himself\u2014\n\n\u201cPerhaps this is the potter himself, whom she has been looking for all\nthis time.\u201d So he slid down and ran to the man and began to pretend to\nbeg.\n\nThe man looked at him and said\u2014\n\n\u201cYou are a gipsy\u2019s child. Where do you come from? Are you living under\na hedge, or do you come from a gipsy\u2019s camp near?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is true I am a gipsy\u2019s child,\u201d answered the boy, \u201cbut I am living\nunder no hedge, but in that little cottage, for the woman who lives\nthere keeps me for love of my mother, who helped her when she was in\ntrouble.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what did your mother do for the woman?\u201d asked the man, who was no\nother than the potter. \u201cIt must have been a great service, that she\nshould be willing to take you and keep you.\u201d\n\n\u201cShe saved her from an evil charm that had been cast upon her,\u201d\nanswered the boy, \u201cand taught her to love her husband again, and she\nwaits his return now and longs for him to come. Therefore she promised\nto keep me with her, but now I dare not go into the cottage, because my\nfather, who is a gipsy, is there, and I am afraid lest he may take me\naway with him.\u201d\n\nWhen the potter heard that the gipsy man was there he would have run\nstraight into the cottage, but the boy implored him to listen first\nand hear what he was saying. So they crept round to the side of the\ncottage, and they heard the gipsy man growing angry, and threatening\nthe potter\u2019s wife, that if she did not tell him where his boy had gone\nhe would seize her by the hair and wring her throat, in spite of her\nbeing so fair a woman. At this the potter waited no longer, but burst\ninto the cottage, and seized the gipsy and hurled him out of the house\nwith all his might; but he and his wife never looked to see if he was\nhurt or no, for they looked at nothing but each other and the little\nchild that the potter\u2019s wife held by the hand. And the gipsy man went\naway, and they never heard of him again.\n\nThen the potter\u2019s wife showed her husband the gipsy boy, and told him\nof her promise to his mother, and of all he had done for her, and\nbegged him that he would let her keep him with them. And the potter\npromised that she should, and said that when he grew up to be a man he\nwould teach him his trade, and make him a potter like himself. So they\nall lived happily together, and the gipsy boy learned to make cups and\nbowls, and was very clever at doing them, but they were cups and bowls\nthat carried no charms with them, and so could do no one any harm that\ndrank from them.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: THE STORY OF A CAT]\n\n\nONCE there lived an old gentleman who was a very rich old gentleman,\nand able to buy nearly everything he wanted. He had earned all his\nwealth for himself by trading in a big city, and now he had grown so\nfond of money that he loved it better than anything else in the world,\nand thought of nothing except how he could save it up and make more.\nBut he never seemed to have time to enjoy himself with all that he had\nearned, and he was very angry if he was asked to give money to others.\nHe lived in a handsome house all alone, and he had a very good cook who\ncooked him a sumptuous dinner every day, but he rarely asked any one\nto share it with him, though he loved eating and drinking, and always\nhad the best of wine and food. His cook and his other servants knew\nthat he was greedy and hard, and cared for nobody, and though they\nserved him well because he paid them, they none of them loved him.\n\nIt was one Christmas, and the snow lay thick upon the ground, and the\nwind howled so fiercely that the old gentleman was very glad he was not\nobliged to go out into the street, but could sit in his comfortable\narm-chair by the fire and keep warm.\n\n\u201cIt really is terrible weather,\u201d he said to himself, \u201cterrible\nweather;\u201d and he went to the window and looked out into the street,\nwhere all the pavements were inches deep in snow. \u201cI am very glad that\nI need not go out at all, but can sit here and keep warm for to-day,\nthat is the great thing, and I shall have some ado to keep out the cold\neven here with the fire.\u201d\n\nHe was leaving the window, when there came up in the street outside\nan old man, whose clothes hung in rags about him, and who looked half\nfrozen. He was about the same age as the old gentleman inside the\nwindow, and the same height, and had grey, curly hair, like his, and\nif they had been dressed alike any one would have taken them for two\nbrothers.\n\n\u201cOh, really,\u201d said the old gentleman irritably, \u201cthis is most annoying.\nThe parish ought to take up these sort of people, and prevent their\nwandering about the streets and molesting honest folk,\u201d for the poor\nold man had taken off his hat, and began to beg.\n\n\u201cIt is Christmas Day,\u201d he said, and though he did not speak very loud,\nthe old gentleman could hear every word he said quite plainly through\nthe window. \u201cIt is Christmas Day, and you will have your dinner here in\nyour warm room. Of your charity give me a silver shilling that I may go\ninto an eating-shop, and have a dinner too.\u201d\n\n\u201cA silver shilling!\u201d cried the old gentleman, \u201cI never heard of such a\nthing! Monstrous! Go away, I never give to beggars, and you must have\ndone something very wicked to become so poor.\u201d\n\nBut still the old man stood there, though the snow was falling on his\nshoulders, and on his bare head. \u201cThen give me a copper,\u201d he said;\n\u201cjust one penny, that to-day I may not starve.\u201d\n\n\u201cCertainly not,\u201d cried the old gentleman; \u201cI tell you I never give to\nbeggars at all.\u201d But the old man did not move.\n\n\u201cThen,\u201d he said, \u201cgive me some of the broken victuals from your table,\nthat I may creep into a doorway and eat a Christmas dinner there.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will give you nothing,\u201d cried the old gentleman, stamping his foot.\n\u201cGo away. Go away at once, or I shall send for the policeman to take\nyou away.\u201d\n\nThe old beggar-man put on his hat and turned quietly away, but what\nthe old gentleman thought was very odd was, that instead of seeming\ndistressed he was laughing merrily, and then he looked back at the\nwindow, and called out some words, but they were in a foreign tongue,\nand the old gentleman could not understand them. So he returned to his\ncomfortable arm-chair by the fire, still murmuring angrily that beggars\nought not to be allowed to be in the streets.\n\nNext morning the snow fell more thickly than ever, and the streets were\nalmost impassable, but it did not trouble the old gentleman, for he\nknew he need not go out and get wet or cold. But in the morning when he\ncame down to breakfast, to his great surprise there was a cat on the\nhearthrug in front of the fire, looking into it, and blinking lazily.\nNow the old gentleman had never had any animal in his house before,\nand he at once went to it and said \u201cShoo-shoo!\u201d and tried to turn it\nout. But the cat did not move, and when the old gentleman looked at it\nnearer, he could not help admiring it very much. It was a very large\ncat, grey and black, and had extremely long soft hair, and a thick soft\nruff round its neck. Moreover, it looked very well fed and cared for,\nand as if it had always lived in comfortable places. Somehow it seemed\nto the old gentleman to suit the room and the rug and the fire, and to\nmake the whole place look more prosperous and cosy even than it had\ndone before.\n\n\u201cA fine creature! a very handsome cat!\u201d he said to himself; \u201cI should\nreally think that a reward would be offered for such an animal, as it\nhas evidently been well looked after and fed, so it would be a pity to\nturn it away in a hurry.\u201d\n\nOne thing struck him as very funny about the cat, and that was that\nthough the ground was deep in snow and slush outside, the cat was quite\ndry, and its fur looked as if it had just been combed and brushed.\nThe old gentleman called to his cook and asked if she knew how the cat\nhad come in, but she declared she had not seen it before, and said\nshe believed it must have come down the chimney as all the doors and\nwindows had been shut and bolted. However, there it was, and when his\nown breakfast was finished the old gentleman gave it a large saucer of\nmilk, which it lapped up not greedily or in a hurry, but as if it were\nquite used to good food and had had plenty of it always.\n\n\u201cIt really is a very handsome animal, and most uncommon,\u201d said the\nold gentleman, \u201cI shall keep it awhile and look out for the reward;\u201d\nbut though he looked at all the notices in the street and in the\nnewspapers, the old gentleman could see no notice about a reward being\noffered for a grey and black cat, so it stayed on with him from day to\nday.\n\nEvery day the cat seemed to his master to grow handsomer and handsomer.\nThe old gentleman never loved anything but himself, but he began to\ntake a sort of interest in the strange cat, and to wonder what sort\nit was\u2014if it was a Persian or a Siamese, or some curious new sort of\nwhich he had never heard. He liked the sound of its lazy contented\npurring after its food, which seemed to speak of nothing but comfort\nand affluence. So the cat remained on till nearly a year had passed\naway.\n\nIt was not very long before Christmas that an acquaintance of the old\ngentleman\u2019s came to his rooms on business. He knew a great deal about\nall sorts of animals and loved them for their own sakes, but of course\nhe had never talked to the old gentleman about them, because he knew he\ndid not love anything. But when he saw the grey cat, he said at once\u2014\n\n\u201cDo you know that this is a very valuable creature, and I should think\nwould be worth a great deal?\u201d\n\nAt these words the old gentleman\u2019s heart beat high. Here, he thought,\nwould be a piece of great luck if a stray cat could make him richer\nthan he was before.\n\n\u201cWhy, who would want to buy it?\u201d he said. \u201cI don\u2019t know anybody who\nwould be so foolish as to give any money for a cat which is of no\nuse in life except to catch mice, when you can so easily get one for\nnothing.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, but many people are very fond of cats, and would give much for\nrare sorts like this. If you want to sell it, the right thing would\nbe to send it to the Cat Show, and there you would most likely take a\nprize for it, and then some one would be sure to buy it, and, it may\nbe, would give a great deal. I don\u2019t know what kind it is, or where it\ncomes from, for I have never seen one the least like it, but for that\nreason it is very sure to be valuable.\u201d\n\nUpon this the old gentleman almost laughed with joy.\n\n\u201cWhere is the Cat Show?\u201d he asked; \u201cand when is it to be held?\u201d\n\n\u201cThere will be a Cat Show in this city quite soon,\u201d said his\nacquaintance; \u201cand it will be a particularly good one, for the new\nPrincess is quite crazy about cats, and she is coming to it, and it is\nsaid that she doesn\u2019t mind what she gives for a cat if she sees one she\nlikes.\u201d\n\nSo then he told the old gentleman how he should send his name and the\ncat\u2019s name to the people who managed the show, and where it was to be\nheld, and went away, leaving the old gentleman well pleased, but to\nhimself he laughed and said, \u201cI don\u2019t think that old man thinks of\nanything on earth but making money. How pleased he was at the idea of\nselling that beautiful cat if he could get something for it!\u201d\n\nWhen he had gone, the grey puss came and rubbed itself about his\nmaster\u2019s legs, and looked up in his face as though it had understood\nthe conversation, and did not like the idea of being sent to the show.\nBut the old gentleman was delighted, and sat by the fire and mused on\nwhat he was likely to get for the cat, and wondered if it would not\ntake a prize.\n\n\u201cI shall be sorry to have to send it away,\u201d he said; \u201cstill, if I could\nget a good round sum of money it would be a real sin not to take it, so\nyou will have to go, puss; and it really was extraordinary good luck\nfor me that you ever came here.\u201d\n\nThe days passed, and Christmas Day came, and again the snow fell, and\nthe ground was white. The wind whistled and blew, and on Christmas\nmorning the old gentleman stood and looked out of the window at the\nfalling snow and rain, and the grey cat stood beside him, and rubbed\nitself against his hand. He rather liked stroking it, it was so soft\nand comfortable, and when he touched the long hair he always thought of\nhow much money he should get for it.\n\nThis morning he saw no old beggar-man outside the window, and he said\nto himself: \u201cI really think they manage better with the beggars than\nthey used to, and are clearing them from the town.\u201d\n\nBut just as he was leaving the window he heard something scratching\noutside, and there crawled on to the window-sill another cat. It was\na very different creature to the grey cat on the rug. It was a poor,\nthin, wretched-looking animal, with ribs sticking through its fur, and\nit mewed in the most pathetic manner, and beat itself against the pane.\nWhen it saw it, the handsome grey puss was very much excited, and ran\nto and fro, and purred loudly.\n\n\u201cOh you disgraceful-looking beast!\u201d said the old gentleman angrily;\n\u201cgo away, this is not the place for an animal like you. There is\nnothing here for stray cats. And you look as if you had not eaten\nanything for months. How different to my puss here!\u201d and he tapped\nagainst the window to drive it away. But still it would not go, and\nthe old gentleman felt very indignant, for the sound of its mewing was\nterrible. So he opened the window, and though he did not like to touch\nthe miserable animal, he took it up and hurled it away into the snow,\nand it trotted away, and in the deep snow he could not see the way it\nwent.\n\nBut that evening, after he had had his Christmas dinner, as he sat by\nthe fire with the grey puss on the hearthrug beside him, he heard again\nthe noise outside the window, and then he heard the stray cat crying\nand mewing to be let in, and again the grey and black cat became very\nmuch excited, and dashed about the room, and jumped at the window as if\nit wanted to open it.\n\n\u201cI shall really be quite glad when I have sold you at the Cat Show,\u201d\nsaid the old gentleman, \u201cif I am going to have all sorts of stray cats\nworrying here,\u201d and for the second time he opened the window, and\nseized the trembling, half-starved creature, and this time he threw\nit with all his might as hard as he could throw. \u201cAnd now there is an\nend of you, I hope,\u201d he said as he heard it fall with a dull thud, and\nsettled himself again in his arm-chair, and the grey puss returned to\nthe hearthrug, but it did not purr or rub itself against its master.\n\nNext morning when he came down to breakfast, the old gentleman poured\nout a saucer of milk for his cat as usual. \u201cYou must be well fed if you\nare going to be shown at the show,\u201d he said, \u201cand I must not mind a\nlittle extra expense to make you look well. It will all be paid back,\nso this morning you shall have some fish as well as your milk.\u201d Then he\nput the saucer of milk down by the cat, but it never touched it, but\nsat and looked at the fire with its tail curled round it.\n\n\u201cOh, well, if you have had so much already that you don\u2019t want it, you\ncan take it when you do,\u201d so he went away to his work and left the\nsaucer of milk by the fire. But when he came back in the evening there\nwas the saucer of milk and the piece of fish, and the grey cat had not\ntouched them. \u201cThis is rather odd,\u201d said the old gentleman; \u201chowever, I\nsuppose cook has been feeding you.\u201d\n\nNext morning it was just the same. When he poured out the milk the cat\nwouldn\u2019t lap it, but sat and looked at the fire. The old gentleman felt\na little anxious, for he fancied that the animal\u2019s fur did not look\nso bright as usual, and when in the evening and the next day and the\nnext, it would not lap its milk, or even smell the nice pieces of fish\nhe gave it, he was really uncomfortable. \u201cThe creature is getting ill,\u201d\nhe said, \u201cand this is most provoking. What will be the use of my having\nkept it for a year, if now I cannot show it?\u201d He scolded his cook\nfor having given it unwholesome food, but the cook swore it had had\nnothing. Anyhow it was growing terribly thin, and all day long it sat\nin front of the fire with its tail hanging down, not curled up neatly\nround it, and its coat looked dull and began to come out in big tufts\nof hair.\n\n\u201cNow really I shall have to do something,\u201d said the old gentleman,\n\u201cit is enough to make any one angry! No one would believe that this\ncould be a prize cat. It looks almost as wretched as that stray beast\nthat came to the window on Christmas Day.\u201d So he went to a cat and\ndog doctor, who lived near, and asked him to come in and see a very\nbeautiful cat which had nothing the matter with it, but which refused\nto eat its food. The cat\u2019s doctor came and looked at the cat, and then\nlooked very grave, and shook his head, and looked at it again.\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know what sort of cat it is,\u201d he said, \u201cfor I never saw any\nother like it, but it is a very handsome beast, and must be very\nvaluable. Well, I will leave you some physic for it, and I hope you may\nbe able to pull it round, but with these foreign cats you never know\nwhat ails them, and they are hard to cure.\u201d\n\nNow the day was close at hand when the cat should have been sent to the\nshow, and the old gentleman was getting more and more uneasy, for the\ngrey cat lay upon the rug all day and never moved, and its ribs could\nalmost be seen through its side, so thin had it grown. And oddly enough\nthe old gentleman, who had never cared for any one or anything in his\nlife except himself, began to feel very unhappy, not only because of\nnot getting the money, but because he did not like to think of losing\nthe cat itself. He sent for his friend who had first told him about the\nCat Show, and asked his advice, but his friend could not tell him what\nto do with it.\n\n\u201cWell, well,\u201d he said, \u201cthis is a bad business, for I have told every\none that you are going to exhibit a most extraordinarily beautiful\ncat, and now this poor creature is really fit for nothing but the\nknacker\u2019s yard. I think, maybe, some naturalist would give you a good\nprice for its skin, as it is so very uncommon, and if I were you I\nshould kill it at once, for if it dies a natural death its skin won\u2019t\nbe worth a brass farthing.\u201d At these words the grey cat lifted its\nhead, and looked straight into the old gentleman\u2019s face, as if it\ncould understand, and for the first time for many a long year, the old\ngentleman felt a feeling of pity in his heart, and was angry with his\nfriend for his suggestion.\n\n\u201cI won\u2019t have it killed,\u201d he cried; \u201cwhy, I declare, though it does\nseem absurd, I have lived with this creature for a year, and I feel as\nif it were my friend, and if it would only get well and sit up on the\nhearthrug, I shouldn\u2019t mind about the money one bit!\u201d\n\nAt this his friend was greatly astonished, and went away wondering,\nwhile the old gentleman sat by the fire and watched the cat lying\npanting on the rug.\n\n\u201cPoor pussy, poor old pussy!\u201d he said, \u201cit is a pity that you can\u2019t\nspeak and tell me what you want. I am sure I would give it to you.\u201d\nJust as he spoke there came a noise outside, and he heard a mewing, and\nlooking through the window he saw the same thin ugly brown cat that\nhad come there last Christmas, and it looked as thin and wretched as\never. When she heard the sound the grey cat stood up on her tottering\nfeet and tried to walk to the window. This time the old gentleman did\nnot drive it away, but looked at it, and almost felt sorry for it; it\nlooked almost as thin and ill as his own grey puss.\n\n\u201cYou are an ugly brute,\u201d he said, \u201cand I don\u2019t want you always hanging\nabout; still, maybe you would be none the worse for a little milk now,\nand it might make you look better.\u201d So he opened the window a little,\nand then he shut it and then he opened it again, and this time the\nbrown cat crawled into the room, and went straight to the hearthrug to\nthe grey puss. There was a big saucer of milk on the hearthrug, and the\nbrown cat began to lap it at once, and the old gentleman never stopped\nit.\n\nHe thought as he watched it, that it grew fatter under his eyes as it\ndrank, and when the saucer was empty he took a jug and gave it some\nmore. \u201cI really am an old fool,\u201d he said; \u201cthat is a whole pennorth\nof milk.\u201d No sooner had he poured out the fresh milk than the grey\ncat raised itself, and sitting down by the saucer began to lap it as\nwell, as if it were quite well. The old gentleman stared with surprise.\n\u201cWell, this is the queerest thing,\u201d he said. So he took some fish and\ngave it to the strange cat, and then, when he offered some to his own\npuss, it ate it as if there was nothing the matter. \u201cThis is most\nremarkable,\u201d said the old gentleman; \u201cperhaps it was the company of a\ncreature of its own sort that my cat needed, after all.\u201d And the grey\ncat purred and began to rub itself against his legs.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nSo for the next few days the two cats lay together on the hearthrug,\nand though it was too late to send the grey cat to the show, the old\ngentleman never thought about it, so pleased was he that it had got\nwell again.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nBut seven nights after the stray cat had come in from outside, as the\nold gentleman lay asleep in bed at night, he felt something rub itself\nagainst his face, and heard his cat purring softly, as though it wanted\nto say \u201cgood-bye.\u201d \u201cBe quiet, puss, and lie still till the morning,\u201d he\nsaid. But when he came down to have his breakfast in the morning, there\nsat the brown tabby, looking fat and comfortable by the fire, but the\ngrey cat was not there, and though they looked for it everywhere, no\none could find it, though all the windows and doors had been shut, so\nthey could not think how it could have got away. The old gentleman was\nvery unhappy about it, but he looked at the strange cat on his hearth\nand said, \u201cit would be unkind now to send this poor thing away, so it\nmay as well stay here.\u201d\n\nWhen she heard him speaking of its being unkind, his old cook burst out\nlaughing. \u201cPerhaps,\u201d she said, \u201c\u2019twas a fairy cat, as it could get away\nthrough bolts and locks, and nothing but a fairy could have taught my\nmaster to think of a thing being unkind or not. I only hope that now\nhe\u2019ll think of some one in this world besides himself and his money.\u201d\nAnd sure enough from that time the old gentleman began to forget about\nhis money, and to care for the people about him, and it was all the\ndoing of the strange cat who had come from no one knew where, and gone\naway to no one knew where.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: DUMB OTHMAR]\n\n\nONCE upon a time there was a village on the top of a mountain, where\nduring the winter months the villagers saw no one but each other, for\nthe mountain was so steep and the path so narrow that, when it was\nblocked with ice, it was dangerous to ascend: so during the winter\nmonths the people lived by themselves, and cheered themselves as\nthey might in the long dreary evenings, with games and dancing and\nsinging and playing on pipes, for they were cheerful folk, joyous and\nlight-hearted. The sweetest singer in the village was a lad named\nOthmar; his voice was as sweet as a nightingale\u2019s before the dawn,\nand also he was the handsomest young fellow in all the country round.\nStrangers turned to look after him as he went by; he was tall and\nstraight, and had curly brown hair, and big brown eyes, and lips that\nalways smiled. He lived with his old mother, who was a widow, and he\nworked for them both in the fields and on the farms. When he was a\nboy he learned the notes of all the birds, and could imitate them so\nexactly that they would fly down to him and settle on his shoulders.\nWhen the farmers had sown their fields, and the birds would have come\nto pick up the grain, they sent for Othmar, and he sang and whistled\ntill they all left the field and flew after him. So often he was called\nthe bird-boy.\n\nOne evening before the winter had set in, or the roads were blocked\nwith ice, there came along the high road into the village, a dwarf in\na yellow cap leading a donkey, on whose back were fastened numberless\nmusical instruments. Fiddles of all sorts, and viols, horns, trumpets,\nand pipes, and a big drum, and a small one with triangles and cymbals.\nIn the middle of the village the little man stopped and looked about\nhim. \u201cWho would like to hear my music?\u201d he cried, and then as the\nvillagers came crowding around him, he bade them all sit down while he\nunpacked his mule, but he forbade any of them to help him, or to touch\none of the instruments. \u201cFor mine is no common music,\u201d he quoth; \u201call\nthese I have made myself, and in each is a machine which makes it go on\nplaying by itself, if once I start it. See here!\u201d and he took up a long\npipe and began to blow, and there came forth the sweetest notes that\nhad ever been heard from any pipe. The little man paused for a minute,\nwith the pipe in his hand, and then laid it down on the ground, when,\nwonderful to relate, it went on playing of itself.\n\nAll the villagers stared with surprise, and some called out that it\nwas magic, and crossed themselves, but the little man took up another\npipe, and set that going too, and then the horns and the trumpets, and\nthe drums and the cymbals, and then he took a fiddle and drew the bow\nacross it, and how it played! It made the people weep and laugh. Othmar\nlay on the ground listening, and it seemed to him as if the sound were\nmade of silver, and when the musician had started them, and all the\nother fiddles were playing together, he felt as if he should go mad for\njoy to hear anything so lovely.\n\nJust behind where Othmar lay sat a young girl, named Hulda. She was\nan orphan, and dwelt alone with an old woman, who gave her food and\nlodging for sweeping out her room, and cleaning and cooking. Also Hulda\nmade money for her by going out to work for the other women in the\nvillage. She was neither pretty nor clever, but she was a good girl,\nand if any of the villagers were ill or in trouble, it was for Hulda\nthey would send at once, because they knew she would spare no pains to\nhelp them, and would think nothing too much trouble. She had played\nwith Othmar ever since they were babies, and loved him dearly. She was\nthe only one who listened to the music who did not think it beautiful.\nShe shuddered as she heard it, and she sat and watched Othmar and saw\nthat there were tears in his eyes, and she grieved that she did not\nlove it as he did.\n\nWhen at last the instruments stopped and the listeners began to feel\nfor money for the musician, he laughed and said, \u201cYou need not give me\nmoney, for I am very rich, and don\u2019t need it. In return for my playing,\nI only ask for one recompense. Let any of your young folks who sing,\nsing me a song, for I too love hearing music that is not my own.\u201d On\nthis the villagers began to look round for all who could sing, and they\nchose out some three or four, and begged them to sing their very best\nto the wonderful musician. Among them was Othmar, but they all bid him\nwait to the last, as his would be the best. Whilst the others were\nsinging, the little man did not seem to heed them much, though they\ntried hard to sing well, and chose their prettiest songs, but their\nvoices sounded very rough and poor after the playing.\n\nBut when Othmar began he stopped twanging the fiddle-strings and\nwatched him. Othmar\u2019s voice rang out clear and sweet, and all the\nvillage folk felt proud of his singing, even after hearing the\nwonderful instruments. When he ceased the little man rose, and said\u2014\n\n\u201cYou have a sweet voice, my boy, be sure that you always use it well;\nand now I must be going my way, but as I am a stranger here, perhaps\nyou would not mind setting me on my road, and showing me the best way\nover the hill.\u201d\n\nOthmar sprang up, delighted to go with him, but Hulda, who watched from\nbehind, came up to him and whispered\u2014\n\n\u201cOh, Othmar, don\u2019t let him take you far\u2014come back soon.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow silly you are, Hulda!\u201d said Othmar, almost angrily. \u201cOf course I\nshall come back, but I shall go with him as far as he wants, and then,\nperhaps, he will let me hear him play again.\u201d\n\nOthmar and the little dwarf started with the mule laden with\ninstruments, and Othmar led the way down the best road. The dwarf did\nnot speak at all, and so they went on in silence till they had got on\nto the top of a high hill where they could see the country all round\nfor miles, and the moon was beginning to rise. Here the musician\nstopped his mule, and stood for a while looking all round. Then he\nturned, and said to Othmar\u2014\u201cI know now where I am, and here will I\nstay for to-night, but first before you leave me, would you not like to\nhear my fiddles and horns again?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat I would,\u201d cried Othmar, and he sat himself down on the ground\ndelighted, while the little man unloaded the mule.\n\n\u201cAnd now,\u201d he said to Othmar with a twisted smile, \u201cyou shall hear them\nplay as no one has ever heard them. Yes, and you shall see them too;\u201d\nthen he laid them in rows\u2014the fiddles first, and the viols, and then\nthe horns and trumpets, and last the drums and cymbals and triangles,\nand clapped his hands, giving a long, shrill whistle. As he whistled,\nthe instruments rose from the ground, and they began to swell, and\ntheir shapes to change till no longer did they look like musical\ninstruments, but like human beings, only each had in a strange way kept\nthe shape it had formerly. The flutes and pipes were tall and thin,\nand they and the violins had changed into beautiful girls with slender\nthroats, and the trumpets were all men and boys of different sizes, but\nthe drum was the strangest of all, for it was a fat man with very short\nlegs. The moon had risen and Othmar could see them all quite clearly,\nand though he trembled with fear and his heart beat high, yet still\nhe watched. They stood silent together for a space in a weird crowd,\nand then the dwarf waved his arms and called, \u201cAy! are you all there,\nmy children?\u2014yes, one, two three four five, six seven eight, nine\nten eleven twelve, thirteen\u2014that is right. Come practice, practice,\npractice, and then you shall have a game, and see who Othmar loves\nbest, and who he will kiss first.\u201d\n\nThen they all began to sing together, but each voice was like the sound\nof its own instrument, only it said words through its tones, and in\nOthmar\u2019s ears their music sounded as never music had sounded before.\nThe voices of the violin girls were so sweet that he felt as if he must\nweep to hear them, while the sound of the pipes and trumpets filled him\nwith longing to go into the world and fight and win battles. He sat on\nthe ground and listened to them like one in a trance, and he felt as if\nhe never wished to rise or go away again. The dwarf sat on a hillock\nnear, and did not seem to heed them much. When Othmar took his eyes\nfrom the dancers for a minute, he found that the place was quite full\nof all the animals who are never seen by day, but who fly out by night.\nThere were crowds of bats and owls, and odd moths, all poised in the\nair, and seeming to watch the musicians and listen to their singing.\nThen when he looked on the ground, he saw that strange wood-snakes and\ntoads had come out boldly, and with their heads turned towards the\ndancers remained motionless and watched them, whilst near him green and\nbrown lizards lay still as stone, with heads on one side, all staring\nthrough the dusky night at the singers. Othmar thought he only had\nwatched them for a few minutes, when suddenly the dwarf cried out\u2014\u201cThe\ndawn, the dawn, my children; see, there is red in the sky. Come, be\nquick, see who will win Othmar\u2019s gift before we go on our way.\u201d When\nhe was silent all the singing girls approached Othmar, but before the\nothers came one who looked slighter and younger, and whose voice though\nas sweet was weaker.\n\n\u201cSee, Othmar,\u201d she cried, \u201cbefore we go on and leave you, let us try to\nsing one song together. Sing you as I do.\u201d And Othmar sang with her as\nshe sang, in a clear voice like a bird\u2019s\u2014\n\n  \u201cEre the sun shines in the sky,\n  We will sing together, my love and I;\n  But none shall hear him sing again,\n  \u2019Neath moon or sun, in shine or rain.\u201d\n\nAnd then ere the last notes had left Othmar\u2019s mouth, she bent forward,\nand clasped him in her slender arms, and kissed him on the lips while\nstill they were open to sing.\n\n\u201cGood-bye, Othmar,\u201d cried she, \u201cand that will be your last note for\nmany a long year, for surely you will have no need to sing after I am\ngone,\u201d and at that all the strange folk standing near gave a laugh\nthat was more a chord of music than a laugh. And when her lips touched\nOthmar\u2019s he quivered all over as a fiddle-string does when the bow is\ndrawn across it; and he gave a cry which was like the sweet sound of a\nbell.\n\n\u201cMine, mine!\u201d cried the girl, as he fell back from her frightened. \u201cNow\nmy voice will be the sweetest and best of all, for I have got Othmar\u2019s\ntoo. No one will hear Othmar now,\u2014Othmar who sang like the birds. And\nnever will he call the birds again, but I can sing as he sang, and all\nwho hear me will think that Othmar sings too. Rejoice, my sisters, sing\nand rejoice,\u201d but at that moment the dwarf started up crying out\u2014\n\n[Illustration: She bent forward, and clasped him in her slender arms,\nand kissed him on the lips.]\n\n\u201cThe dawn, the dawn, my children; see, the sun, the sun; beware, beware\nits rays.\u201d Then came a great burst of sound like a chord from all the\nmusic folk, followed by a flash of light like lightning, and when it\nhad cleared away, the singing men and girls had gone, and in their\nplaces there lay upon the ground all the musical instruments\u2014fiddles,\nviols, pipes, horns, and cymbals. Othmar stood staring as if he had\nbeen turned to stone, and watched as if he were in a dream, while the\nlittle man quietly packed the instruments on to the mule, and went away\nleading it by the bridle as he had come.\n\n\u201cGood-bye, Othmar,\u201d he called back, \u201cgood-bye. When you hear my fiddles\nagain, they will be sweeter than ever, for I have added your voice to\nthem.\u201d And he went on his way over the hillside and disappeared beyond\nthe ridge. Othmar ran after him, but he stumbled and fell. He tried to\ncall out, but no voice would come! Tears ran down his cheeks, and he\nsobbed bitterly, but no sound came with the sobs, and he knew that his\nvoice had left him. The singing girl had stolen it, and he could never\nsing or cry out again!\n\nThe sun was rising high in the heavens. The green lizards, slow-worms,\nfrogs and beetles were still ranged around, and gazed at Othmar with\ntheir heads wonderingly on one side. The birds sang louder and louder,\nand their voices sounded sweet in the morning air. Othmar bent his head\nand wept because he knew that never could he call them to him again.\nThen from behind a bush there rose a big black raven, who cast a long\nshadow behind him which almost covered Othmar as he sat, and it gave a\ndeep croak and then spoke quite clearly\u2014\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\u201cPoor Othmar!\u201d it said, \u201cshe has stolen your voice!\u201d and he hopped\ndown. \u201cYou will never speak nor sing again. Poor Othmar!\u2014ah! they\nstole my voice too; once I could sing far better than the birds you\nhear now. That was thousands of years ago, but the dwarf came to my\nnest, and told me if I would go with him he would teach me how to\nwhistle so that the worms should rise out of the ground and jump into\nmy mouth when they heard me, and he called one of his trumpet-men\nto teach me\u2014one you saw dance\u2014and he bid me lay my beak below his\nlips while he sang; then he stole my voice, all but a croak, which he\ndid not want because it was so harsh, but all your voice was sweet,\ntherefore she has got it all\u2014poor Othmar, poor Othmar!\u201d\n\nThen Othmar raised himself, with the tears running from his eyes, and\nturned to find his way back to the village. It seemed a long distance,\nfor he missed his path, and it was near nightfall before he saw the\ntops of the cottages and his own little home; but as he neared the\nvillage, he could see Hulda standing in the road, shading her eyes from\nthe sun, and watching the way he came.\n\n\u201cOthmar,\u201d she cried when she saw him, \u201cis it you? I have been to search\nfor you far and near, and there are others now looking for you, for we\nwere afraid lest you had fallen down some crevice, or slipped over the\nrocks.\u201d\n\nOthmar came up to her, and put out his hand, and she saw how pale he\nwas, and that his eyes were full of tears, but he said nothing.\n\n\u201cOthmar, tell me,\u201d cried Hulda; \u201cwhat has happened? why don\u2019t you\nspeak?\u201d but still Othmar was silent. \u201cAre you hurt, Othmar? Did the\ndwarf do you any harm?\u201d\n\nThen Othmar flung himself on the ground, and began to sob, but his sobs\ngave no sound, though the ground was wet with his tears, and Hulda knew\nthat Othmar was dumb.\n\n\u201cPoor Othmar, poor Othmar!\u201d croaked the raven who had kept close to\nOthmar, and flew overhead, but Hulda did not understand it, only she\nwept to see his grief.\n\n\u201cNever fear, Othmar,\u201d she said tenderly, \u201cyour voice will soon come\nback; it was the long cold night, and the fear that has driven it away.\nCome home with me, and let me nurse you, and you shall soon be well.\u201d\n\nOthmar shook his head, and the tears fell from his eyes, but he let her\ntake his hand and lead him into the village where his old mother sat\nand waited for him; but still, although she sprang forward to greet\nhim, and put her arms around his neck, he could not speak, and his deep\nsobs gave no sound. At first the villagers said he was ill, and soon\nhe would be well again, but as the days passed and he never spoke, they\nknew that he was struck dumb. Some said it was the cold, and some that\nhe had been frightened; only Hulda said to herself, \u201cit was the wicked\nlittle man.\u201d\n\nSo the days passed, and Othmar remained silent and worked with the\nother young men of the village without speaking, and no longer could\nhe sing or call the birds to him. Always he looked white and sad,\nbut saddest of all when there was any village merry-making, and the\nvillagers sang and danced together. Then when he heard them he would\nput his fingers in his ears and hide his eyes so as not to see them and\nrun afar off by himself; for the sound of any music was quite horrible\nto him after the singing of the travelling musicians. So a year passed,\nand Othmar never spoke, and instead of calling him the bird-boy, the\nvillage people called him \u201cdumb Othmar.\u201d\n\nIt was midsummer-night, and the villagers had been having a\nmerry-making and dancing cheerily on the green in the village. Othmar\nwas not with them; he had left the village and went and sat apart on\nthe top of a rocky hill, from where afar the sea could be seen when the\nweather was clear. The moon was wonderfully bright, and the country\nwas almost as light as by day. Othmar could hear the sound of their\nlaughter, but he never laughed, and as he sat with his head bowed upon\nhis knees he wept silently. So he remained alone till far into the\nnight when all the singing and dancing was done, and the villagers had\ngone home, but just when the clocks struck twelve he saw Hulda, who\ncame slowly to him, and he saw that she too was crying.\n\n\u201cOthmar,\u201d she said, \u201cI have thought and thought, and I know that the\nlittle man with the fiddles was a wicked fairy.\u201d Othmar nodded. \u201cSo I\nam going into the big world to find him, for if he has done you this\nill he will know how to cure you, and I have saved all my money for a\nyear.\u201d\n\nThen Othmar took her hand, and kissed it, but still wept, as he shook\nhis head and made signs to her that she must not go, as it would be all\nin vain. But Hulda did not heed him.\n\n\u201cAnd now,\u201d she said, \u201cI am going, Othmar, and it may be long years\nbefore I return, so you must do three things. First, you must give me\na long curl of your brown hair, that I may lay it next my heart and\nwear it day and night, not to forget you. Then you must kiss me on my\nlips to say good-bye; and then you must promise that my name shall be\nthe first words your lips say when they again can speak.\u201d Then Othmar\ntook his knife and cut from his head the longest, brightest curl of his\nhair, and drew her to him and kissed her thrice upon the lips, and then\nhe took her hand and with it wrote upon his lips her name, \u201cHulda,\u201d as\na promise that her name should be the first thing they said.\n\n\u201cGood-bye, Othmar,\u201d she said; \u201cyou will wait for me.\u201d Then she turned\naway and started alone to go down the mountain-side, and she looked\nback as she went and called back, \u201cGood-bye, Othmar,\u201d as long as he\ncould see or hear her.\n\nShe went straight down the hill and journeyed for a long way, till the\ndawn began to show red in the sky, and she lay under a tree and slept\nsoundly till the sun had risen and woke her.\n\nShe sat and thought which way she should go. \u201cI must seek out some\nwise man who knows about fairies and wicked witches,\u201d she said to\nherself, \u201cand who will tell me where to search. And I will ask every\none I meet where the wisest person is to be found.\u201d So she went on for\nmany days till she came to a tiny village, outside which, in a field,\nshe saw a shepherd minding sheep. Hulda stopped and asked if he could\ntell her where she could find a very wise man who could answer her\nquestion.\n\nThe shepherd thought a bit, and then he said, \u201cThe wisest man in these\nparts lives up in the little cottage on the other side of the village.\nHe cured my sheep two years back when all the flock were sick and many\ndied\u2014a little cottage with a red gate.\u201d Hulda thanked the shepherd,\nand went on till she came to the little cottage with the red gate. When\nshe had knocked at the door a tall man came out, and she asked him if\n\u2019twas he who had cured the shepherd\u2019s sheep, and as he was so clever,\nif he would tell her what to do. She told him she wanted to find a\ndwarf who led a donkey covered with musical instruments, and whom she\nknew to be a wicked sorcerer, since he struck folk dumb.\n\nThe tall man looked at her and said, \u201cMy business is to cure sheep,\ncows, and horses, and I know it right well; but I know nothing of\ndwarfs and witches, and how can I tell you which way he has gone, or\nanything about him?\u201d\n\n\u201cThen of whom had I best ask?\u201d said Hulda. \u201cTell me who is the wisest\nand most learned man in these parts, and I will go to him.\u201d\n\nThe tall man rubbed his head and considered. \u201cI suppose,\u201d quoth he,\n\u201cthat the old school-master at the village school yonder would be said\nto be the most learned man hereabouts, for he teaches the children\nall sorts of things that they forget when they grow up. That is the\nschool-house on the hill.\u201d So on went Hulda again to the school.\n\nAs she came near she could hear the children calling out their lessons,\nand their master, who was an old priest, teaching them. So she waited\nabout till school hours were over, and the children had all come out,\nand then she timidly went in and curtseyed to the old school-master,\nand told him her tale, and asked him, as he was so very learned, if he\nwould advise her what to do; but instead of answering her the old man\nat first stared at her in bewilderment, and then he said, \u201cI can teach\nyou to read and write and many wonderful things, but of dwarfs who can\nsteal a boy\u2019s voice I know nothing. You would do best not to think more\nof it.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut some one there must be,\u201d cried Hulda, beginning to cry, \u201cwho can\ntell me what to do, and which way to go. For I am sure that the old man\nwas a fairy, and if so, no living man can help Othmar, but only he who\ndid the mischief can undo it.\u201d\n\nThe old priest looked at her sadly and shook his head. \u201cMy child,\u201d\nhe said, \u201cthis is a foolish talk about fairies and sorcerers, I know\nnothing of such things. It is only untaught folk and fools who give\nheed to such matters.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo untaught folk and fools then I must go, for surely they can help\nme more than the wise,\u201d she cried. So she left the school-house, and\nstarted again through the little village street. The first person\nshe met was a baker going home after taking round his bread, and she\nstopped him and asked him who was the most ignorant and foolish person\nin those parts.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe baker stood and stared at her, and seemed to be half angry. At\nlast he said, \u201cI am sure I don\u2019t know anything about fools. You had\nbetter go on to the cake-maker, who lives a mile up the hill. He is,\nto my mind, the biggest fool in these parts.\u201d And tossing his basket\nabout and seeming to be much offended, he went his way. Hulda went on\nfor a mile up the hill, and there she found a little group of cottages,\nand in their midst was a shop with an open oven, and she could see its\nowner busy making cakes and sweets. Hulda went in and bought a cake,\nand as she sat and ate it, she asked the man timidly if he knew many\nof the people in that neighbourhood, and if any were very ignorant and\nfoolish.\n\n\u201cIndeed,\u201d cried the man, \u201cyou may well ask that. Why, a more silly,\nignorant set of folk I never knew, quite different from the people in\nmy native town, but that is miles away.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd who do you think the silliest then?\u201d asked Hulda.\n\n\u201cWhy, for sure \u2019tis hard to say,\u201d said the man, scratching his head.\n\u201cThey\u2019re such a poor silly lot, right away from the Mayor down to Tommy\nthe fool.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd who is Tommy the fool?\u201d asked Hulda eagerly.\n\n\u201c\u2019Tis a poor natural-born idiot who lives with his mother in the little\ncabin on the side of the common. He spends all his time trying to catch\na bird, and he never has caught one, and never will.\u201d\n\n\u201cThank you for telling me about him,\u201d said Hulda, rising to go away.\n\u201cMaybe if he is really a fool he could answer my questions as they\nsay,\u201d and she went on again with a lighter heart. At last she came to\nthe common on which the fool lived with his mother. When she approached\nthe little cabin, she saw some one dancing about in front of an oak,\ndressed up with the feathers of birds and fowls, which looked as if\nthey had been picked up from the ground. He was a young man of about\neighteen, and he had a cheerful face, but any one looking at him could\nsee at once he was an idiot. He was dancing round the tree and pointing\nup to the birds, and calling them to come down to him. Hulda came up\nand stood quite close and watched him, as he ran round smiling and\ngiggling. Then she said, \u201cPlease can you tell me where I shall find a\nlittle man, a dwarf who drives a donkey covered with pipes and fiddles?\u201d\n\nThe fool looked at her very gravely, but he said nothing; so then she\nwent on to tell him how the little man had come to their village, and\nhow he had stolen Othmar\u2019s voice, and how she had come out to seek it.\nJust as she finished speaking, there rose from the ground a raven,\nand soared above their heads. When he saw it the fool pointed to it,\nand cried out, \u201cThe raven, the raven, follow the raven,\u201d and as the\nraven flew, he ran after him with Hulda following in turn. They ran\nfor a long way, the fool leaping and bounding, and pointing with his\nfinger and crying, \u201cThe raven, the raven, do what the raven does.\u201d Then\nsuddenly he turned, giving a wild laugh, and began to run home again,\nbut as he went he nodded and called to Hulda, \u201cFollow the raven, follow\nit, do what the raven does.\u201d\n\nHulda felt inclined to burst into tears with disappointment, but still\nshe ran meekly after the bird, murmuring to herself, \u201cHe said follow\nthe raven, but what good can that do me?\u201d But when the fool had turned\nback, the raven slackened his pace, and cawed and lighted on a tree,\nand Hulda, panting for breath, sat down under it, and looked up at it.\n\n\u201cPoor Hulda!\u201d it croaked, but she couldn\u2019t understand it; \u201cpoor Hulda,\ncome with me, and I will show you where the dwarf is.\u201d Then it began to\nfly slowly on again.\n\n\u201cWhat shall I do?\u201d sobbed Hulda. \u201cHe was only an idiot, he knew\nnothing; still he told me to follow the raven, and no one else has\ntold me anything;\u201d so on she went, and this time the raven flew quite\nslowly, so that Hulda kept up with it walking. On they travelled till\nevening was well advanced, into all sorts of places where Hulda had\nnever been, and through many villages. Then it began to grow dark, and\nthe moon came out, but still they travelled on. Hulda was foot-sore and\nweary, but she would not give up, and said to herself, \u201cIt was what the\nfool said, \u2018Follow the raven, do what the raven does!\u2019\u201d\n\nJust before dawn, they came out on to a big plain, where there were\nneither houses nor trees, but in the far distance you could see a long\nline of mountains; a little further in the centre of the plain Hulda\nsaw a little dark mass, and straight to this the raven flew, and as\nHulda approached it, she saw that it was the little dwarf, lying asleep\nupon the ground beside his heap of musical instruments, with the mule\ngrazing near. \u201cOh, good wise fool,\u201d cried Hulda, \u201cnow indeed you have\ngiven me the best advice. Since the raven has led me to the wicked\ndwarf, now indeed will I do what the raven does, whatever it be.\u201d\n\nThe raven flew on, and lit upon a scrubby bush, a little way from\nthe sleeping dwarf, and Hulda followed and crouched beside it, making\nno noise lest she should disturb the sleeper, and hiding behind the\nbranches so that she could not be seen. Presently the little man\nrose from the ground, and called out, \u201cCome, my children, practice,\npractice; the dawn is here, and the sun will rise, and then we must go\nupon our way.\u201d\n\nThen Hulda saw what Othmar had seen before. The pipes raised themselves\nfrom the ground, and untwisted, and became tall, lithe men; some\ngradually uncurled themselves, and put forth long arms and became\nbeautiful girls, till each instrument had taken the likeness of a human\nbeing. Then they began to dance and to sing, and Hulda watched them\nas Othmar had watched them, and she too felt as if she had never seen\nand heard anything so beautiful in her life, and she longed to rush to\nthem, but she heard the raven croak above her, and remembered the words\nof the fool, \u201cThe raven, the raven, do what the raven does.\u201d Then she\nsaw that the raven had hopped off the tree, and was standing upon the\nearth in front of her, and was beginning to dig in the earth with its\nlong beak, as if it would find a worm. \u201cThe fool said, Do what the\nraven does, so must I dig too,\u201d thought she, and she began to scoop the\nbrown earth with her hand, till she had made a hole, watching the raven\nall the time.\n\nPresently she saw that the raven had found a long worm, and held it by\nits throat in the air, but it did not swallow it. Hulda looked into her\nhole to see if there was a worm there also, and at the bottom she saw\nlying a long, lithe, green snake, twisted up and apparently torpid.\n\u201cSurely,\u201d thought Hulda, \u201cif I do what the raven does, I shall take\nthis out,\u201d and she put her hand into the hole, and grasped the snake\nby its throat, though she was very much afraid of it, and then she\ncrouched down behind the raven and the bush.\n\n\u201cCome,\u201d cried the dwarf, when they had all sung together, \u201cnow let us\nhear the last new voice. Othmar\u2019s voice was as sweet as silver. Now\nlet me hear how my youngest daughter has treated it.\u201d Then there came\nto the front the youngest and fairest of the girls, and began to sing,\nand when she heard it, Hulda could scarcely keep from screaming, for\nshe recognized that the tones were Othmar\u2019s; but just as the singing\nsounded the sweetest, the raven with a croak opened his mouth, and\ndropped the worm upon the ground, and Hulda let go her hold of the\nbright green snake, which darted through the short grass towards the\ndancers.\n\nThere arose from all sides the cry of \u201cA snake, a snake!\u201d and they\nseemed panic-stricken. The snake glided straight towards the singing\ngirl, and deftly coiled itself round her ankles, while from the old\nman and all the others came a terrible uproar, but the snake from the\ngirl\u2019s ankles had slid up her body in bright green coils, and then\ntwisted itself around her throat, and coiled tighter and tighter and\ntighter, till her head fell over on one side. Then Hulda heard a noise\nlike the sighing of wind, but sweet and tender, while the dwarf and all\nthe singers were in a hubbub and confusion.\n\nFor a moment the old man stood motionless, then he rose and gave a\nterrible cry. Hulda trembled when she heard his voice, it sounded like\nnothing earthly, but ere he was silent there had risen from the ground\nand from the bushes near a number of little cloudy forms, black and\nthick, and twirling in all directions, and they twisted in and out\namong the singers; and as they twisted among them, they ceased to be\nmen and women, but became musical instruments, as they had been before,\nall save the girl around whose neck the snake had wound, and who seemed\nto shrivel and shrivel in its coils till she was no more to be seen.\n\nIn less than a minute they were all packed again upon the mule, and the\nlittle old man was leading it quietly away, as if nothing had happened.\nAnd upon the grass lay the glittering snake, though all trace of the\ngirl around whose neck it had twisted had gone. Hulda ran to it, and\nthen she almost cried, for she feared that after all the girl with\nOthmar\u2019s voice had escaped her. But she remembered the words of Tommy\nthe fool, \u201cDo as the raven does; follow the raven,\u201d and looking up\nshe saw that the raven was fluttering above her, with the worm it had\npicked up from the ground in its mouth.\n\n\u201cOh, dear raven,\u201d cried Hulda, \u201cyou brought me to where the little man\nwas, now lead me back and show me what to do next.\u201d And mindful of the\nfool\u2019s advice, she picked up the snake, and holding it firmly by the\nthroat, turned to follow the raven, who flew ahead of her. Thus they\njourneyed back, over the same country through which Hulda had come\nbefore. All looked just the same, but Hulda was sorely tired, for she\nhad now been walking many days, and she felt sad, for she did not know\nif after all she had gained anything, or whether she ought not to have\nfollowed the little old man, and though she had heard Othmar\u2019s voice,\nshe did not know how she was to get it back to him. \u201cNever mind,\u201d she\nsaid to herself, \u201cthe fool told me right so far, and evidently he knew\nall about it, so I had best keep to his advice.\u201d\n\nThe sun rose high in the sky and the day was very hot, and poor Hulda\nlonged to lie down under the trees and sleep; moreover the snake in her\nhand twisted and twisted, till she could scarce hold it. Sometimes she\ncried from very weariness, but still the raven flew in front of her.\nShe had bought dry bread as she came along, and when the raven stopped\nand hopped upon the ground, she munched it to stave off her hunger,\nbut directly the raven began to fly she followed it, and she never let\nthe snake from her grasp. The sun had set, and dark was all over the\nland ere she came to the village where the fool lived, but no fool was\nthere to be seen. Hulda sought everywhere, but she could not find him.\nThen she saw that the raven had stopped and settled on the roof of the\ncottage where the fool lived, and, standing on one leg, had gone to\nsleep with its head under its wing, so Hulda lay down by the side of\nthe door, and laying her head on a stone rested too. But first she took\noff her girdle and tied it firmly round the snake\u2019s throat, and then\ntied it round her waist again lest she should fall asleep and the snake\nglide away.\n\nJust when the stars were beginning to look pale, and as there were\nsigns of the dawn in the sky, the door of the cottage opened, and out\nthere came the fool, dressed up as Hulda had seen him before, with\nfeathers and weeds and bits of bright rag. Hulda started up, and he\nlaughed when he saw her. \u201cLook,\u201d he said, \u201cthe sun is rising; I am come\nout to see it.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have come back,\u201d cried Hulda, \u201cand I have seen them all\u2014the old\nman and the musician girls, and the one who stole Othmar\u2019s voice will\nnever use it again, for this snake has throttled her; but what am I to\ndo now? How can I give him back his voice? What shall I do to make him\nspeak?\u201d And as she spoke she took the snake from her bosom and showed\nit to the fool. He looked at it very gravely as he always did when\nanything was shown to him, and looked very wise and nodded. \u201cIt is a\nsnake,\u201d he said; \u201cperhaps Othmar will like the snake.\u201d\n\nHulda begged him to tell her if he knew what she should do, but he\nwould say no more, but began to dance and sing as she had seen him do\nbefore. Then at last Hulda burst out crying, \u201cHe is nothing but a poor\nidiot,\u201d she said, \u201cand I have been on a fool\u2019s errand when I did as he\ntold me, though I did see the wicked little man, and this snake did\npunish the singing girl, so I will take it back to Othmar that he may\nsee I have tried. But now I believe he will be dumb for ever.\u201d\n\nAnd she took the snake and looked at it as she held it. It was very\nstill, and seemed half torpid, though the weather was warm. She saw it\nwas not a common snake, for it was bright brown, and green with odd\nmarkings, and it glittered oddly when the sun\u2019s rays touched it.\n\n\u201cI will go back now,\u201d said Hulda; \u201cI will go back to Othmar, and tell\nhim I have failed, and ask him to forgive my vanity in thinking\nI could help him. I will go back at once and tell him all.\u201d And\noverhead the raven croaked and told her to go quickly, but she did not\nunderstand what he said.\n\nSo again she began to trudge on, holding the snake in her hands and\ntoiling over fields and moors in the way that she knew led to her own\nlittle village, though by now her feet were so swollen and her legs so\nstiff that she almost cried for pain.\n\nPresently she came to the village where the cake-maker lived, and as\nshe passed his shop, she saw that he stood at the door and nodded to\nher as he saw her coming.\n\n\u201cGood-day,\u201d he cried; \u201cyou are the young wench I saw go past awhile\nback.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I am going home now,\u201d said Hulda.\n\n\u201cAnd have you found your fiddles and horns that turned to men and\nwomen?\u201d he asked. \u201cIt was a fool\u2019s errand, I fear, you were going on;\nand what have you got in your hand now?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is a snake,\u201d answered Hulda, \u201cand\u2014\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cA snake!\u201d screamed the cake-maker. \u201cLord love the girl, is she mad to\ngo wandering over the country carrying a snake with her? Why, it might\nkill you, wench! Drop it at once!\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, indeed, I will not drop it,\u201d said Hulda, \u201cfor it seems to me that\nit is the only thing which may do Othmar good, for at any rate it has\nkilled the girl who stole his voice, and\u2014\u2014\u201d\n\nAt this the man started and called out, \u201cGood Lord, she is clean off\nher head. Stolen Othmar\u2019s voice! What can the wench mean? Why, girl,\nthat snake might bite you, and you would be dead at once. Why on earth\nshould you carry it because it has killed a girl?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am carrying it because the fool told me to do what the raven does,\u201d\nanswered Hulda, \u201cand he has still a worm in his mouth. Look.\u201d\n\nAt this the man burst out laughing. \u201cWhy, what has that to do with\nyou?\u201d he cried; \u201ca raven will often carry a worm for a bit. Drop this\nsnake at once, you silly lass, or, better still, hold it firm while I\ncrush its head with my poker.\u201d And he seized the poker to kill it with.\n\nThen Hulda was frightened lest he might steal the snake from her, or\nkill it by force, and she ran on; but she ran in such haste that she\nstumbled against the baker who was just coming out from his shop with\nhis basket of loaves on his arm.\n\n\u201cCan\u2019t you look where you are going?\u201d he cried in anger, as he picked\nup the bread which had rolled into the road; and then, seeing it was\nHulda, he said:\u2014\u201cWhy, who are you running away from, my girl? Are you\non the look-out for more fools that you can\u2019t see when an honest man\ncomes along? And whatever have you got there?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is only a snake I have found,\u201d said Hulda, when she had asked the\nman\u2019s pardon, and she tried to hide the snake in her skirt, but the\nbaker seized her arm and made her show it to him.\n\n\u201cWhat on earth are you carrying a live snake with you for?\u201d he asked.\n\u201cDon\u2019t you know they are venomous beasts, and the bite of one is\ncertain death?\u201d And, like the cake-maker, he tried to wrench the snake\nfrom her. At this Hulda was terribly frightened.\n\n\u201cIf they take the snake from me,\u201d she thought, \u201cthen my last chance is\ngone,\u201d and she tried to free herself from the baker, but he seized her\nby the skirt and held her fast, and shouted out to others to come and\nhelp him.\n\n\u201cHelp, help!\u201d he cried. \u201cHere is a poor mad girl, and she has got hold\nof a poisonous adder, and she will let it loose in the village and it\nwill bite some of our children and kill them.\u201d And when they heard his\ncry the villagers all came running out of their cottages.\n\n\u201cLet me go, let me go,\u201d shrieked Hulda, \u201cit will do no harm. I will\nhold it tight, and I would not lose it for the wide world.\u201d\n\n\u201cI tell you she is mad,\u201d roared the baker, and the cake-maker came up\nand said the same thing. \u201cShe wandered by here some time back, and all\nshe wanted to know was where she could find another as mad as herself,\nbut she will have far to go before she meets one, I reckon. We must\nsecure her and take the snake from her, but beware how you catch it,\nfor fear it should bite.\u201d\n\nAnd the people all gathered round her and made a great hubbub, though\nthey were afraid to touch the snake which Hulda still held firmly in\nher hand. And they made such a din that the old school-master came out\nof the school-house with his pupils after him.\n\nThe people told him there was a poor mad girl who had got a snake, and\nwould not let them take it from her, and he remembered Hulda as the\nothers had done, and shook his head and said sadly, \u201cI fear it is too\ntrue. The poor child is really mad, but we cannot wrench the snake from\nher lest it may turn and bite us. But it is certain that it would not\nbe safe to let her go; so, as the children are all going home now, let\nus lock her into the school-house here, till we can get something to\nkill the creature with, and then when the doctor comes, he can see if\nthe poor girl is very bad, and what had better be done with her.\u201d\n\nHulda turned quite white with fear, and cried out that she was not mad,\nand that the snake should harm no one, but they would not heed her,\nand pushed her into the school-house, and bolted the doors on her, and\nthere Hulda sat on the floor and cried as if her heart would break.\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d cried she, \u201cnow all hope is gone, and Othmar will be dumb for\never. For what good have I carried this snake with me all this way, if\nnow it is to be taken from me and killed?\u201d and her tears fell on the\nviper as she looked at it in her hand. It was very bright green and\nyellow, and it kept wrinkling and twisting its skin as she grasped\nit, and making a loud hissing noise. As her tears were still falling\nshe heard a croak over her head, and saw the raven perched on a window\nabove her, and again her hopes revived.\n\n\u201cMaybe he has come to help me,\u201d she thought, \u201cfor I should never have\nfound the little dwarf if it had not been for the raven.\u201d Then as she\nlooked up at the raven sitting in the window, she saw that it was\npecking at a piece of rope that hung through the window, and Hulda\nthought\u2014\u201cSurely if I could climb up to the window, I could scramble\nthrough it, and climb down the rope on to the ground. Only if they were\nto see me, they would catch me again, so I must wait till nightfall\nwhen there is no one there.\u201d\n\nSo she sat down again and waited till the sun had set, and she trembled\nat every noise lest it might be some one coming to seek her, but they\nleft her alone, and no one came. When it was quite dark, and all the\nvillage was quiet she went to the window, and tried to climb up to it,\nbut she found that she could not manage to get up on to the window-sill\nwhile she held the snake in her hand. Then first she thought she would\nwind it around her waist, but she remembered how it had tightened\naround the singing girl and killed her, and for some time she could\nnot think what to do with it. At last she twisted it into a knot, and\nplaced it in her bosom, though she trembled lest it should bite her.\nAnd when she placed it in her bosom, she saw the curl of Othmar\u2019s hair\nthat lay there, and she took it and tied up the snake\u2019s jaws with it so\nthat it might not open its mouth. \u201cFor Othmar\u2019s hair will not break or\ngive way,\u201d she said; \u201cit is like his heart, it will be true and strong\ntill the end.\u201d\n\nThen she climbed up on to the window-ledge, and scrambled through the\nwindow, and took the piece of rope and let herself down on to the\nground outside. And when she lit upon the ground, she heard the raven\ncroaking above her, and her heart leapt for joy, and she began to run\nas fast as she could to get away from the village lest they might catch\nher again.\n\nWhen she came again into the open country, she looked for the raven,\nand saw that it was flying in front of her as before, towards the\ndistant mountains where she knew lay her home. She toiled on, for many\ndays, but by now the summer had nearly passed away, and when she got\ninto the high mountain land, she found that the cold winter had given\nsigns of coming, and the trees were beginning to be bare, and there was\na light white frost on the ground. It was far into the night when she\narrived in the village, and the villagers were all asleep and their\ncottages shut. Outside the cottage where Othmar lived grew a big old\nivy tree, and on this the raven perched, and underneath it Hulda lay\ndown to wait the dawn and Othmar\u2019s waking. She lay quiet for a bit,\nbut when she saw a faint glimmering of light where the sun was going\nto rise, she felt she could be still no longer, and she sprang up and\ncalled, \u201cOthmar, come down, I am here,\u201d for she dreaded having to tell\nhim before the other villagers that she had failed.\n\nIn a few moments the door of the cottage opened and Othmar came out,\nand ran to greet her, but she kept afar.\n\n\u201cOthmar,\u201d she cried, \u201cI have done you no good, save that I have\npunished the wicked girl who took your voice. This snake killed her, so\nshe will never sing as you did again. See.\u201d And she held out the snake\nto him; it was curled round and still tied up with his hair, and as the\nsun began to shine it glittered brightly.\n\n\u201cBut I have done you no good, indeed rather harm,\u201d Hulda went on, \u201cfor\nI have made you hope where there was no hope, and you have waited and\nexpected that I should bring you back what you had lost, and I have not\ndone it, and now I shall never hear you say my name \u2018Hulda\u2019 again,\u201d and\nshe wept so bitterly that the tears fell from her face, and dropped\nupon the snake which still she grasped. Othmar held out his hand, and\ntried to take her hand that he might kiss it, and as he did so, he\ntouched the snake\u2019s long tail, and it began to writhe and twist, and\nglisten more and more as the sun shone on it. And as he raised her hand\nto his mouth, Othmar tried to say her name \u201cHulda\u201d with his poor dumb\nlips that could make no sound, and he breathed it on the snake, and it\nseemed as if the snake vibrated with the name, and suddenly it swelled\nand swelled, and shone still more brightly, and its mouth grew wide and\nburst Othmar\u2019s hair which had bound it, and widened out till it was not\na snake any more, but a curled golden trumpet, curled up as the snake\nhad been, and like that which had been changed into the singing girl\nwho stole Othmar\u2019s voice. \u201cTake it, Othmar, and blow,\u201d cried Hulda,\nand he put it to his lips and cried \u201cHulda!\u201d and Hulda heard her name\nechoing back in a burst of music from all around. At its sound the\nbirds awoke in all the trees, and began their morning chorus, and the\nvillage folk ran to their windows to see what the trumpet\u2019s peal had\nbeen, and saw Othmar standing with Hulda in his arms, and at their feet\nthe bright trumpet which he had dropped. It lay on the ground, but as\nOthmar began to speak and to say, \u201cHulda, Hulda, you have brought it\nback, you have given me my voice again,\u201d the trumpet broke into many\npieces, and with every word crumbled, till there was nothing left but\na little heap of shining golden sand, and from under it there glided\nout a dark green snake with yellow markings, and it slid away into the\nbushes and disappeared.\n\nThen all the villagers rejoiced, and Hulda wept with happiness. And\nOthmar married Hulda, and his voice never left him again; but when\nlong years after folk would tell him his voice was sweet and far more\nbeautiful than the birds, he would say, \u201cBut it is not really my voice,\nit is my wife\u2019s, Hulda\u2019s, for I should have been dumb for ever if she\nhad not sought it and brought it back to me.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: THE RAIN MAIDEN]\n\n\nONCE upon a time there lived a shepherd and his wife, who lived in\na very lonely little cottage far from town or village, near some\nmountains. It was a wild neighbourhood, and the wind blew across the\nmountains fiercely, and the rain often fell so heavily that it seemed\nas if the cottage would be washed away. One evening when the shepherd\nwas out, there came on a great storm of rain which beat against the\ndoors and the windows violently. As the shepherd\u2019s wife sat listening\nto it by the fire, it seemed to her as if it sounded louder than she\nhad ever heard it before, and the raindrops sounded like the knock of\na hand that was knocking to gain admittance. It went on for a little\ntime, till the shepherd\u2019s wife could bear to listen to it no longer,\nand she rose and went to the door to open it, though she knew that\nshe would let the wind and rain into the room. As she opened the door\na gust of rain was blown in her face, and then she saw that in the\ndoorway stood a woman who had been knocking. She was a tall woman\nwrapped in a grey cloak with long hair falling down her back. \u201cThank\nyou,\u201d she said. And though her voice was very low, the shepherd\u2019s wife\ncould hear it plainly through all the storm. \u201cThank you for opening the\ndoor to me. Many would have let me stand outside. Now may I come into\nyour cottage and rest?\u201d\n\n\u201cHow wet you must be!\u201d cried the shepherd\u2019s wife; \u201ccome in and rest,\nand let me give you food. Have you come from far?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, I come from quite near,\u201d said the woman, and she came into the\ncottage as she spoke, and sat down in a chair near the door. \u201cAnd I\nwant no food, only a glass of water. I must go on directly, but I have\nnot far to go, and I shall be no wetter than I am now.\u201d\n\nThe shepherd\u2019s wife stared in surprise, for she saw that apparently\nthe woman\u2019s clothes were not wet at all. And what was stranger still,\nthough she had thought she was only clad in a dull grey cloak, now she\nsaw that she was covered with jewellery,\u2014clear stones, like diamonds\nwith many flashing colours; and she also saw that all her clothes were\nof the finest. She gave her a glass of water, and begged that as well\nshe might give her other food, but the woman shook her head, and said\nno, water was all she needed. When she had drunk the water she gave\nback the glass to the shepherd\u2019s wife, and said, \u201cAnd so this is your\nhome. Have you all that you want in life? Are you happy?\u201d\n\n\u201cAy, we are happy enough,\u201d said the shepherd\u2019s wife, \u201csave indeed for\none thing. Ten years ago my little baby girl died, and I have no other\nchildren. I long for one sorely, that I might take care of it and make\nit happy, while it is little, and then in turn, when I am old, it would\nlove and care for me.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd if you had a little child,\u201d said the woman, rising up and\nstanding before the shepherd\u2019s wife, \u201cyou think you would really love\nit better than anything in the world. Many women say that, but few do\nit. Before long a little child will be born to you, and as long as you\nlove it better than anything in the world it will remain with you, but\nwhen you love anything else better than your little daughter and her\nhappiness, it will go from you; so remember my words. Good-bye,\u201d and\nthe woman walked to the door and went quietly out into the rain, and\nthe shepherd\u2019s wife saw her disappearing, and the rain pelting around\nher, but her clothes were not blown about, neither did the rain seem to\nwet her.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nA year passed away, and the shepherd\u2019s wife had a tiny daughter, a\nlovely little baby with the bluest eyes and the softest skin; the\nevening she was born the wind howled and the rain fell as fiercely as\non the night when the grey woman had come into the shepherd\u2019s cottage.\nThe shepherd and his wife both loved their little daughter very dearly,\nas well they might, as no fairer child was ever seen. But as she grew\nolder, some things about her frightened her mother, and she had some\nways of which she could not cure her.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nShe would never go near a fire, however cold she was, neither did she\nlove the sunshine, but always ran from it and crept into the shade;\nbut when she heard the rain pattering against the window-panes she\nwould cry, \u201cListen, mother, listen to my brothers and sisters dancing,\u201d\nand then she would begin to dance too in the cottage, her little feet\npattering upon the boards; or, if she possibly could, she would run\nout on to the moor and dance, with the rain falling upon her, and her\nmother had much ado to get her to come back into the cottage, yet she\nnever seemed to get very wet, nor did she catch cold.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nA river ran near the cottage, and by it she would go and sit for hours\ndabbling her feet in the water, and singing sweet little songs to\nherself.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nStill, in all other ways she was a good, affectionate girl, and did all\nthat her mother told her, and seemed to love both her parents tenderly,\nand the shepherd\u2019s wife would say to herself, \u201cMy only trouble is that\nwhen she is grown up, she will want to marry, and leave me, and I shall\nhave to do without her.\u201d Time passed, and the old shepherd died, but\nhis wife and daughter still lived on in the little cottage, and the\ndaughter grew to be a most beautiful young maiden. Her eyes were clear\nlight-blue, like the colour of the far-off sea, but it was difficult\nto say what was the colour of her hair, save that it was very light,\nand hung in heavy masses over her brow and shoulders. Once or twice her\nmother felt sorely frightened about her; it was when spring showers\nwere falling, and the young girl had gone into the little garden in\nfront of the cottage to let the rain fall upon her head and face, as\nshe loved to do, in spite of all her mother could say. Then she began\nto dance, as she always did when the rain fell, and as she danced the\nsun came out while the rain was yet falling. Her mother watched her\nfrom the cottage-window, but while she watched her it seemed to her\nas if her daughter was covered with jewels of every colour, clear and\nbright; they hung around her in chains, and made her look more like\na king\u2019s daughter than a shepherd\u2019s girl. \u201cCome in, child, come in,\u201d\ncalled the shepherd\u2019s wife, and when the young girl came in the cottage\nall traces of the jewels had gone, and when her mother upbraided her\nfor going out to dance in the rain, she only answered, \u201cIt hurts no\none, my mother, and it pleases me, why should you stop me?\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\nA little way from the cottage on the mountain-side stood an old castle,\nwhere formerly the Kings of the land used to come and stay, but which\nnow had not been used for very many years. One day, however, the\nshepherd\u2019s wife saw great preparations were being made to beautify and\nadorn it, and she knew that the King and his son were coming to stay\nthere again. Soon after they had arrived, the shepherd\u2019s daughter went\ndown to the river, as was her wont, and sat on the bank, dipping her\nfeet in the ripples. Presently there came up a boat, and it was a grand\nyoung man dressed all in velvet and gold who leaned over the side to\nfish.\n\n\u201cWho are you, and what are you doing here?\u201d cried the shepherd\u2019s\ndaughter, for she was afraid of no one.\n\n\u201cI am the King\u2019s son,\u201d said he, \u201cand I am coming here to fish. Who are\nyou, and where do you come from, for I have never seen such a beautiful\nmaiden in my life?\u201d and he looked at her and could scarce speak, so\nbeautiful did she seem to him.\n\n\u201cIt is cruel to take the fishes out of the water,\u201d cried the shepherd\u2019s\ndaughter, \u201cleave them alone, and come and dance on the bank with me,\u201d\nand she went under the shade of a large tree, and began to dance, and\nthe King\u2019s son watched her, and again he thought so beautiful a maid\nthere had never been.\n\n[Illustration: \u201cLeave the fishes alone, and come and dance on the bank\nwith me.\u201d]\n\nDay after day he came down to the river to fish, and day after day he\nleft the line and tackle to sit and watch the shepherd\u2019s daughter, and\neach time found her more enchanting. Once he tried to kiss her hand,\nbut she sprang from him and left him sitting in his boat alone. At last\na day came when the Prince said to his father, \u201cMy father, you want me\nto wed so that I may have an heir to the throne, but there is only one\nwoman that can ever be my wife, and that is the daughter of the poor\nwoman who lives in the little cottage out yonder.\u201d\n\nAt first the old King was very wroth, but he loved his son well, and\nknew that nothing would shake him from his word, so he told him that if\nhe would bring home his bride, he too would rejoice and love her as his\ndaughter even though she be a beggar-maid. Then the young Prince rode\ndown to the cottage, and went in and told the shepherd\u2019s wife how he\nhad seen her daughter, and loved her and wished to make her his wife,\nso that she would be Queen of the country.\n\nThe shepherd\u2019s wife went nearly wild with joy. \u201cTo think that my\ndaughter should be the Queen,\u201d she said to herself, and when her\ndaughter came into the cottage she did not know how to contain herself,\nbut folded her in her arms and kissed her, crying and declaring that\nnever was woman so blessed.\n\n\u201cWhy, what has happened, my mother? and what has pleased you so?\u201d said\nher daughter, while still the shepherd\u2019s wife rejoiced and wept for joy.\n\n\u201cIt is the King\u2019s son, my girl, the King\u2019s own son, and he has just\nbeen here, and he loves you because you are so beautiful, and he will\nmarry you and make you Queen of all the land. Was there ever such luck\nfor a poor woman?\u201d\n\nBut the daughter only said, \u201cBut I don\u2019t want to marry the King\u2019s son,\nmother, or any one. I will never be the wife of any man; I will stay\nwith you and nurse you when you are old and sick, for I can live in no\nhouse but this cottage, and have no friend but my mother.\u201d\n\nOn hearing this the shepherd\u2019s wife became very angry, and told her\ndaughter that she must be mad, and that she must wait for a day or two,\nand she would be only too thankful for the love of the King\u2019s son, and\nfor the honour he was going to do her in making her his Queen. But\nstill the daughter shook her head, and said quite quietly, \u201cI will\nnever be the wife of the King\u2019s son.\u201d The shepherd\u2019s wife did not dare\ntell the King\u2019s son what her daughter had said, but told him that he\nhad better speak to her himself if he wished to make her his wife. Then\nwhen he was again sitting in the boat on the river, and the maiden on\nthe bank, the King\u2019s son told her how much he loved her, and that he\nwould share with her all that he had in this world. But the shepherd\u2019s\ndaughter only shook her head and said, \u201cI will never live at the\npalace, and I will never be a Queen.\u201d\n\nThe old King had ordered great preparations to be made for the wedding,\nwhich was to take place immediately, and all sorts of fine clothes were\nordered for the shepherd\u2019s daughter, that she might appear properly as\nthe wife of the Prince, but for the few days just before the wedding,\nthe rain fell as it had never been known to have fallen; it beat\nthrough the roofs of the cottages, and the river swelled and overflowed\nits banks; everyone was frightened, save indeed the shepherd\u2019s\ndaughter, who went out into the wet and danced as was her wont, letting\nthe torrents fall upon her head and shoulders.\n\nBut the evening before the wedding-day she knelt beside her mother\u2019s\nside. \u201cDear mother,\u201d she said, \u201clet me stop with you and nurse you when\nyou are old. Do not send me away to the palace to live with the King\u2019s\nson.\u201d\n\nThen the mother was very angry, and told her daughter that she was very\nungrateful, and she ought to be thankful that such luck had come in her\nway, and who was she, the daughter of a poor shepherd, that she should\nobject to marrying the King\u2019s son?\n\nAll night long the rain fell in torrents, and when next day the\nshepherd\u2019s daughter was dressed in all her finery, it was through pools\non the ground that she had to step into the grand carriage which the\nKing had sent to fetch her, and while the marriage-service was being\nread, the priest\u2019s voice could scarcely be heard for the pattering of\nthe drops upon the roof, and when they went into the castle to the\nbanquet, the water burst through the doors opened to receive them,\nso that the King and the wedding guests had hard ado to keep dry. It\nwas a grand feast, and the King\u2019s son sat at one end of the table,\nand his young wife was beside him dressed in white and gold. All the\ncourtiers and all the fine guests declared that surely the world had\nnever contained such a beautiful young woman as their future Queen. But\njust when the goblets were filled with wine, to drink to the health of\nthe bride and bridegroom, there came a cry, \u201cThe floods! the floods!\u201d\nand the servants ran into the hall, crying out that the waters were\npouring in, and in one moment the rooms were filled with water, and no\none thought of anything but to save themselves. When the hurricane had\nsubsided, and the waters gone down, they looked around for the Prince\u2019s\nwife, who was nowhere to be found. Every one said that she had been\nswept away by the torrents, and that she had been drowned in all her\nyouth and beauty; only the shepherd\u2019s wife wept alone, and remembered\nthe words of the woman who came to her on the night of the storm: \u201cWhen\nyou love aught on earth better than your daughter and her happiness,\nshe will go from you.\u201d\n\nThe King\u2019s son mourned his wife, and for long would not be comforted;\nbut when many years had passed, he married a beautiful Princess, and\nwith her lived very happily; only when the rain fell in torrents and\nbeat against the window-panes it would seem to him as if he heard the\nsound of dancing feet, and a voice that called out, \u201cCome and dance\nwith me, come and dance with me and my brothers and sisters, oh, King\u2019s\nson, and feel our drops upon your face.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: THE PLOUGHMAN & THE GNOME]\n\n\nA YOUNG ploughman was following his plough in a field one morning when\nsuddenly the horses stopped, and do what he would he could not make\nthem stir. Then he tried to push the plough himself, but he could\nnot move it one hair\u2019s-breadth. He stooped down to see what could be\nstopping it, when a deep voice cried, \u201cStop, I am coming up.\u201d The\nvoice was so loud that the ploughman shook with fear, but though he\nlooked all around him, he could see no one from whom it could come.\nBut presently it spoke again (only this time it was a little lower),\nand called out, \u201cHave patience, and I shall be up in a moment.\u201d The\nploughman quaked in every limb, and stood quite still, and the voice\nbegan again (but this time it was no louder than most folks\u2019), and it\nsaid\u2014\u201cIf you will only not be in such a hurry, I will tell you what I\nwant. Look in front of your horse\u2019s right foot, and pick me up.\u201d\n\nHe bent down and looked on the ground, and there in the earth, just in\nfront of his horse\u2019s right foot, he saw what he thought was a little\nblack lizard. He touched it very cautiously, and started back with\nsurprise when the voice spoke again, and he found it came from this\ntiny creature.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d it said, \u201cthat is quite right. You can pick me up in your hand\nif you like, but I think I must grow a little bigger, as I am really\nuncomfortably small,\u201d and while he held it on the palm of his hand,\nthe ploughman saw that it was beginning to grow larger, and it swelled\nso fast that in a few seconds it was near a foot high, and he had to\ntake both hands to hold it. Then he saw that it was not a lizard, but\na little black woman with a face that looked as though it were made of\nindia-rubber, and ugly little black hands.\n\n\u201cThere, that will do,\u201d said the strange little gnome. \u201cThat is a nice\nuseful size. Oh dear, how tiring growing is! I don\u2019t think I\u2019ll be any\nbigger just yet. Now be sure you don\u2019t drop me, and handle me very\ncarefully, for I do not like to be roughly touched. I have not slept\nnearly as long as I meant to. I wanted a hundred years\u2019 nap, and it\ncannot be more than fifty, but now that I am awake I think I will keep\nso for a bit. You seem to be rather a nice civil young man. How would\nyou like to take me for a lodger?\u201d\n\n\u201cA lodger!\u201d gasped the ploughman. \u201cWhy, what should I do with you?\u201d\n\n\u201cI should give no trouble,\u201d said the gnome. \u201cBut are there any women in\nyour house?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d said the ploughman, \u201cfor I have no wife, and I am too poor to\nkeep a servant.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo much the better,\u201d said the gnome. \u201cFor though I am a woman myself,\nI detest women, and only get on with men.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou a woman!\u201d cried the ploughman, and he laughed outright.\n\n\u201cOf course I am a woman,\u201d said the creature. \u201cCome, say quickly, do you\nlike to have me for a lodger or not? Of course you will have to agree\nto my terms.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what are your terms?\u201d asked the ploughman.\n\n\u201cOnly this. Whatever comes into the house, you must always give the\nbest of it to me. I will choose where I shall live for myself, when I\nsee the house, but of all the food you have, you must save the best and\ngive it to me. Not much of it, but the very best pieces. As you are\na man I cannot wear your clothes, but you can give me some of their\nmaterial, and of everything else that comes into the house of any sort,\ntobacco, or carpets, or furniture, I must have some of the best. And at\nmeals I must always be helped first. If you agree to this, I may stay\nwith you for a very long time.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, oh,\u201d said the ploughman, \u201cand pray what shall I get by it? It\nseems to me as if you wanted to get the best of everything and give\nnothing in return.\u201d\n\n\u201cOn the contrary,\u201d replied the gnome, \u201cI shall give a very great deal.\nFor as long as I remain in your house, all things will go well with\nyou. You are a poor man now, but you will soon be a rich one. If you\nsow seeds they will give twice as much crop as other people\u2019s. All your\nanimals will do well, and in a little time, instead of being a poor\nploughman, you will be the richest farmer in the countryside.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d quoth the ploughman, \u201cI don\u2019t mind trying. I think it would\nrather amuse me to take you to my cottage; but if you don\u2019t keep your\npart of the bargain, and I don\u2019t find things are going very well with\nme, I warn you I\u2019ll pretty soon turn you out.\u201d\n\n\u201cAgreed,\u201d said the gnome; \u201cbut remember, if you fail in your compact\nwith me, I shall go by myself. Now carry me home and let me choose\nwhere I will live.\u201d\n\nThe ploughman carried the odd little figure back to his cottage, gaping\nwith astonishment; there he put it down on the kitchen-table in the\nlittle kitchen. It looked all round it, and twisted about its little\nblack head.\n\n\u201cThat will do nicely,\u201d it said at last; \u201cthere is a little hole in\nthat corner, down which I can go, and near that hole you must place all\nyour daintiest bits, and remember that I must always be helped first\nat all your meals.\u201d And without a word it leaped from the table, and\nscuttled away down a big hole that the rats had made, and was no more\nto be seen.\n\nBut when in the evening the ploughman came in to eat his meal, before\nhe began it he took the very best bit of meat and the nicest of the\nvegetable, and laid them down near the hole. Then he watched eagerly\nto see what would happen, but while he looked there they remained.\nSuddenly, however, the door shut with a bang, and he turned his head\nfor a moment to see what caused it, and when he looked back the food\nhad disappeared. Every day it was much the same. He put some of the\nbest food on the table down near the hole, but as long as he watched\nthere it remained, but when he took his eyes off for a moment it had\ndisappeared. In the same way when he had new clothes, he took a choice\nbit of material and laid it near the hole, and it vanished also. And of\nwhatever came into the house he took some of the best and did the same\nwith it.\n\nMeantime things began to improve very much with him. He had only a\nlittle bit of land round his cottage, but this year the vegetables and\nfruit he had planted there grew so well that he had a large quantity to\nsend to market, and he sold them for such good prices, that soon he was\nable to get more land and buy his own animals, and in a little while\nhad a farm of his own, and had grown to be quite a rich man, while all\nhis neighbours said his luck was extraordinary. Meantime he saw or\nheard nothing more of the little black gnome, and except when he put\nthe food and other thing\u2019s near the hole almost forgot all about her.\n\nTime passed, and the time came when the ploughman began to think he\nwould like to take a wife; he made up his mind to marry a very pretty\ngirl in the next village, who was said to be the prettiest girl in all\nthe neighbourhood. Many of the young men would have liked to marry\nher, but the ploughman was a handsome, cheery young fellow, and she\npreferred him to all of the others, and so they were married, and she\ncame home to live at the farm. The evening after their wedding they had\na fine fat fowl for supper, and the ploughman before he helped his\nwife cut off the choicest slice from the breast and took it as usual to\nthe hole.\n\n\u201cHusband,\u201d cried the wife, \u201chave you gone mad that you should give the\nbest of the food to the rats and the mice?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am not mad at all,\u201d said the ploughman, \u201cbut my grandfather loved\nnothing in the world so well as rats and mice, and he made me promise\nbefore he died that they should always be well cared for in my house,\nand have of the best.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen if you are not mad,\u201d replied the wife, \u201cI think your grandfather\nwas! It is only the best poison that is good for rats and mice,\nand they shall have it soon, now that I am in the house.\u201d But the\nploughman caressed his wife and begged her to let him keep his promise\nto his grandfather, and the wife held her peace, not liking to seem\nbad-tempered on her wedding-day. After a bit she got used to her\nhusband putting down little bits of food, as he said, for the rats and\nmice, and though she always declared she was going to poison them, she\ndid not try to do so, as her husband seemed grieved when she talked\nabout it.\n\nThus things went on very happily for some months, when the wife began\nto think that her clothes were getting very old, and that she must\nhave some new ones. So she took plenty of money and went into the\nneighbouring town, and came home with new dresses, and hats, and\nbonnets, and very pretty she looked in them, and her husband was very\nmuch pleased with them. But that evening after his wife was gone\nto bed, as the ploughman was finishing his pipe in the kitchen, he\nsuddenly heard a deep voice from the hole, which called out just as it\nhad done months before, \u201cStop, I am coming up.\u201d\n\nFor an instant the ploughman quaked with fear, then he saw something no\nbigger than a black beetle creeping through the hole, and it came in\nfront of his chair, and he heard the voice, which was not so loud this\ntime, say\u2014\n\n\u201cThat will do, now I am going to begin to grow a little,\u201d and it began\nto grow, and grow, and grow, till it was about eight inches high, and\nthe ploughman saw it was the little black woman. \u201cThere,\u201d she said,\nspeaking quite quietly, \u201cthat is a nice useful size, that will do.\nNow I have something to say to you, and you will have to attend very\ncarefully. I consider that you are breaking your compact. In the first\nplace, you married without asking my leave, and, as I told you, I don\u2019t\nlike women in the house, but I will say nothing about that, as we had\nnot spoken about it before, but how can you explain about all the fine\nclothes that your wife fetched home to-day? She has taken them to her\nroom and not given one to me!\u201d\n\n\u201cNay,\u201d cried the ploughman, \u201cthey are my wife\u2019s clothes, not mine.\u201d\n\n\u201cNonsense,\u201d said the gnome, \u201cyou gave her the money for them. Now\nunderstand that whatever she buys for herself in the future, she must\nbuy the same for me. Two of everything: dresses, hats, gloves, whatever\nshe has, I must have too, and be sure that mine are quite as good as\nhers.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut how am I to manage that?\u201d cried the ploughman; \u201chow can I explain\nit to her without telling her that you are there?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is your business,\u201d said the gnome. \u201cAll I say is that I must\nhave the things if I am to remain in your house. You can tell her what\nyou please. So now you know, and see that you do as I tell you,\u201d and\nsuddenly the little figure shrunk up till it was about the size of a\nblack beetle, and then disappeared down the hole without another word.\n\nThe ploughman rubbed his head, and wondered what he could do. He did\nnot at all want to tell his wife about the little gnome, for he was\nsure she would not like it, but at the same time he did not want the\ngnome to leave his house and take away his luck.\n\nA few days after, his wife told him she was going to the shoemaker\u2019s\nto buy herself some smart new shoes, and the ploughman thought of the\ngnome, and knew he must do as she had told him. So he said to his wife,\n\u201cWife, when you get those shoes for yourself, I wish you would get a\npair just like them for my cousin who has written to me to ask me for a\npresent. I should like to send her some nice boots and shoes as she is\nvery poor, so I shall be very much obliged if you will get two pairs of\nwhatever you may get for yourself that I may send her one.\u201d\n\nThe wife wondered very much, for she did not know the ploughman had any\ncousin; however, she went into the town, and brought home two pairs of\nsmart red shoes with bows on the top.\n\nWhen she had gone to bed at night, the ploughman took one pair and\nlaid it by the hole in the same place where he had put the food, and\nit disappeared just as the food did without his seeing where it went.\n\u201cNow,\u201d thought he, \u201cwhen she sees I am quite honest, perhaps the ugly\nlittle gnome will be content, and let us go on in peace.\u201d\n\nSo time went on, and the ploughman and his wife lived very happily\nand quietly, till one evening a pedlar came round with a tray holding\nall sorts of pretty things to sell. The ploughman\u2019s wife went to the\ndoor, and looked at the things: then she bought a pretty comb for her\nhair, but she would not show it to her husband, as she meant to wear it\nbefore him as a surprise next day.\n\nBut that evening after his wife had gone to bed, as the ploughman\nsat finishing his pipe by the fire, he heard the voice from the hole\ncalling as loudly as ever, \u201cStop! I am coming up.\u201d Again the ploughman\nquaked with fear, and then he saw coming through the hole something no\nbigger than a black beetle, and again the voice said in a lower tone,\n\u201cNow I will begin to grow a little,\u201d and presently the tiny black\nthing had swelled into the ugly little black woman with the face like\nindia-rubber.\n\n\u201cListen to me,\u201d she said, \u201cand know that I am beginning to feel very\nangry. You are beginning to cheat me. To-day your wife bought herself\na brand-new comb from a pedlar at the door, and never got one for me.\nTo-morrow evening I must have that comb. I don\u2019t care how you get it,\nbut have it I must.\u201d\n\nThe ploughman scratched his head and was sore perplexed. \u201cWhat on earth\nam I to do?\u201d he cried, \u201cfor my wife will think me very cruel if I take\naway all the pretty little things she buys for herself.\u201d\n\n\u201cI can\u2019t help that,\u201d answered the gnome. \u201cI have got to have that comb\nby this time to-morrow night, and I warn you if you begin to deceive\nme, just as if I were an ordinary human being, I shall pretty soon take\nmyself off,\u201d and with that the gnome disappeared through the hole in an\ninstant.\n\nNext morning at breakfast the wife came down with the new comb in her\nhair, and said to her husband, \u201cSee, husband, I bought this of the\npedlar yesterday, and he tells me they are quite the newest fashion,\nand all the great ladies in town are wearing them.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d quoth the ploughman, \u201csuch a fashion may be all very well for\nthe great ladies who have scarce any hair of their own, but, for my own\npart, I had rather see your beautiful hair just as it is without any\nadornment.\u201d\n\nAt this the wife pouted, and was very cross. \u201c\u2019Tis too bad of you\nto say that. I thought you would like your wife to wear all the new\nfashions, and be smart like other folks.\u201d\n\n\u201cNay,\u201d cried the ploughman, \u201cmy wife is much prettier than other folks,\nand she looks prettiest of all when she has little to adorn her. If any\nof these great ladies had hair like yours you may be sure they would\npretty soon throw away any combs or caps or pins, so that nothing but\ntheir hair should be seen.\u201d\n\nWhen her husband was gone, the wife went to her glass and looked at\nherself, and took out the comb and then put it in, and tried it every\nway. \u201c\u2019Tis true, for sure,\u201d said she, \u201cmy hair is very beautiful, and\nmaybe it looks best done up as I used to wear it, still it seems a pity\nnot to use the comb when I have bought it.\u201d So when her husband came\nback, she said to him, \u201cI believe you are right, husband, and it suits\nme better not to have anything in my hair, but maybe if you are wanting\nto send a present to that cousin of yours, you would like to send her\nthat comb. It would save buying anything fresh.\u201d\n\nOn this the ploughman laughed to himself, but he thanked his wife very\nmuch and put the comb in his pocket. In the evening after the wife had\ngone to bed, the ploughman took it, and put it down by the hole, and\nthen went on smoking his pipe without waiting to see if it disappeared.\nBut in a few minutes he heard the voice crying, \u201cStop! I am coming up,\u201d\nand saw again the gnome come through the hole and then begin to grow as\nbefore. \u201cNow this is too bad,\u201d cried the ploughman. \u201cWhat can you want\nnow? Here I have just given you the comb you wanted, and nothing else\nnew has come into the house.\u201d \u201cOn the contrary,\u201d answered the gnome, \u201cI\nconsider that you have brought a great many new things into the house\nsince I came to live here, and I mean now to have my choice of some of\nthem, since I do not find that you are honest enough to offer them to\nme. To begin with, I want your wife\u2019s hair. I have been trying mine\nwith that comb, and I find I can\u2019t make it do at all, and so I mean to\nhave your wife\u2019s.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy wife\u2019s!\u201d gasped the ploughman. \u201cYou must be mad!\u201d\n\n\u201cMad or not mad,\u201d replied the gnome, \u201cI mean to have it, and, moreover,\nit is my due. You married without consulting me, and if I kept you to\nyour bargain, I should have a great deal that I have not got. Certainly\nyour wife has the best head of hair in the house, so you must cut it\noff near her head and bring it all to me.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut whatever shall I say to my wife?\u201d cried the ploughman in distress.\n\n\u201cThat is your look-out, not mine,\u201d said the gnome. \u201cAnyhow you have got\nto give it to me. But as the thought of it seems to annoy you I will\ngive you a week to get it in.\u201d\n\nThe ploughman sat and thought and thought, and very sad did he feel\nat thinking of all his wife\u2019s beautiful hair being given away to the\nlittle gnome.\n\nNext day he took his horse and cart, and told his wife he had to go for\na long drive on business to a big town, a long way off. It was quite\nthe biggest town in that neighbourhood, and many very fine people\nlived there. At first the wife wanted to go too, but her husband said\nit was too far and she would be too tired, as he could not be back till\nvery late at night.\n\nNext morning, when they sat at breakfast, he told his wife all he had\nheard and seen in the big town, and then he added, \u201cAnd all the very\nfine ladies there have now the funniest fashion.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what is that?\u201d asked his wife; \u201cpray tell me, for I love to hear\nthe new fashions.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy,\u201d said the ploughman, \u201c\u2019tis with their hair. Instead of wearing it\nlong, they have it cut quite close all round their heads, because they\nsay it looks smarter now.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I do call that a silly fashion,\u201d said the wife; \u201cthey can\u2019t have\nhad much hair to consent to have had it cut off.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, indeed,\u201d said her husband, \u201cand yet with some of them, they look\nvery smart and pretty with their little curly heads.\u201d\n\n\u201cMuch like boys, I should think,\u201d said the wife scornfully.\n\n\u201cNo, not quite that, either,\u201d said the ploughman, \u201cmore like the\npictures of angels in the old churches, and they say it is the great\nthing for it to curl up all round the head, and when it does that of\nitself, they are very proud of it.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then, some of them might be very proud of mine,\u201d said the wife,\n\u201cfor it\u2019s as curly as may be, and if I were to cut it short would be\nall in tiny curls.\u201d\n\nWhen her husband had gone to his work, the ploughman\u2019s wife could do\nnothing but think of the strange new fashion of which her husband had\ntold her. \u201cI wonder how it would suit me,\u201d she thought, and when he\ncame in to dinner she said to him\u2014\n\n\u201cHusband, is it really true that all those fine ladies looked very\npretty and smart with their hair short?\u201d\n\n\u201cAy, that they did,\u201d he said; \u201cI was quite surprised to see them, and\nI heard they said \u2019twas a wonderful saving of trouble, and that their\nhair could never grow untidy.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is true,\u201d said the wife, \u201cyet I should be sorry to cut mine off.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: \u201cI wonder how it would look?\u201d and she snipped off a big\nbit.]\n\n\u201cNo need that you should,\u201d said the ploughman, \u201cand there are not many\nfolks up here to see if we are in the fashion or not. All the same,\nyou are sure to look prettier than the town ladies any way, whichever\nway your hair is done, for your face is prettier.\u201d\n\nBut when her husband had gone away again the wife went to her glass\nwith the scissors in her hand. \u201cAs my husband says,\u201d she quoth, \u201cit\nwould be a wonderful saving of trouble, and then it would be very nice\nto let all the women round see that I could be in the fashion before\nthey. I wonder how it would look?\u201d and she snipped off a big bit. \u201cHere\ngoes,\u201d she cried; \u201cafter all \u2019tis best to follow the fashions, whatever\nthey are,\u201d and she went on cutting till, when her husband came in, he\nfound her with her hair all cut off beside her.\n\n\u201cThere, husband,\u201d cried she, \u201cdo I look like the smart ladies in town?\u201d\n\n\u201cAy, that you do,\u201d he answered, \u201conly ten times prettier; but as for\nall that beautiful hair, you must just give it to me, for it is so\nbeautiful I would not let it be lost for anything,\u201d and he took up all\nthe heap of fine gold hair and tied it together with a bright ribbon.\n\nThe wife looked at herself in the glass, and thought she really looked\nvery nice with little curls all round her head, and though the\nploughman grieved over it in his heart, yet he was glad he had got her\nhair, and thought, \u201cNow at last that miserable little gnome will be\ncontent, and leave me alone.\u201d So that evening, when his wife was gone\nto bed, he took the bunch of hair and laid it near the hole, and it\ndisappeared, and he knew the gnome had it.\n\nSo for a time all went on quietly with the ploughman, and he hoped he\nshould not hear more of the gnome, but one evening, after his wife had\ngone to bed and he was in the kitchen smoking his pipe alone, he heard\nthe hated voice shouting, \u201cStop! I am coming up,\u201d and then he saw the\nlittle black thing like a black beetle coming through the hole, and all\nhappened just as before.\n\n\u201cWell, what do you want now?\u201d cried the ploughman when he saw the ugly\nlittle woman in front of him. \u201cI have given you my wife\u2019s hair, and\nsurely you ought to be content.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot at all,\u201d said the gnome, \u201cfor I have tried on her hair, and I find\nit does not suit my complexion. I have never seen her myself, and I\ndon\u2019t think you any judge, but I heard you telling her that her face\nwas prettier than any of the town ladies. In that case you have no\nright to keep it for yourself. I must have your wife\u2019s face.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy wife\u2019s face!\u201d screamed the ploughman, \u201cI think you must be mad. How\ncan I give you my wife\u2019s face? And what would you do with it?\u201d\n\n\u201cWear it,\u201d answered the gnome; \u201cand all you have to do is to fetch your\nwife in here this day week, and tell her what I wish; and I will come\nup and scrape off as much of her face as I want.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, it would kill her,\u201d cried the ploughman.\n\n\u201cNot at all,\u201d said the gnome, \u201cneither would it hurt her, for she would\nscarcely feel my little knife; the only thing is, that when I have\ndone, her skin will be rather black and shrivelled like my own, but as\nmine has been good enough for me all these years, it will surely be\ngood enough for a common human woman. Anyhow, now you know. I must have\nyour wife\u2019s complexion to wear with her hair, or else I go at once. And\nas it will be you who have broken the compact, I shall take all your\nwealth with me.\u201d And repeating in a deep voice, \u201cRemember, this day\nweek at twelve o\u2019clock,\u201d the gnome grew small, and disappeared through\nthe hole.\n\nNext day the ploughman was very miserable, and whenever he looked at\nhis wife felt inclined to burst into tears. The wife, not knowing what\nwas amiss, tried to cheer him, and asked if he were ill. But he shook\nhis head, and told her \u201cno,\u201d and had not the courage to tell her the\ntruth. Thus things went on, the ploughman growing sadder and sadder\nevery day, till the evening before that on which the gnome had told him\nhe must bring his wife to meet her. The ploughman was scarce able to\ncheck his sobs before his wife, and at last she came into the kitchen,\nand there found him crying outright.\n\nWhen she saw this, she kneeled down by him, and said, \u201cHusband, you\nsurely do not think me a good wife, for a good wife shares all her\nhusband\u2019s troubles. Tell me what troubles you. Two heads are better\nthan one, and perhaps I can help you.\u201d\n\nThen the ploughman told her all about the hated gnome, and how he had\nfound it in a field, and how he had promised to give it some of the\nbest of everything, and now how it wanted her face.\n\nAt first the wife would scarcely believe it, and then she cried, \u201cBut\nif \u2019tis such a little creature why not pick it up and strangle it, or\nlet me put my foot on it, while it is no bigger than a black beetle.\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, do not think of such a thing,\u201d said her husband, \u201cfor it is ill\nto play tricks with fairy folk, and most likely she would kill us\noutright.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut part with my face I never will,\u201d cried the wife.\n\n\u201cThen we will let her go and take with her the house and all our\nwealth, and be contented to live in my old cottage again, and be quite\npoor folk,\u201d said her husband.\n\nOn hearing this the wife burst into tears, and wept more bitterly than\nher husband, for she would not stop at all. It was in vain for him to\ntry to cheer her and tell her that poor folk could be quite as happy\nas rich ones. She declared she could never be happy poor. Then when\nhe said if she would let her face go, he would love her just as much\nor more without it, she cried that she could never be happy with a\ndreadful shrivelled black skin like a monkey\u2019s. All that night she\ncried, and when morning came her skin was all red, and her eyes could\nscarce be seen, so swelled were their lids, but still she cried on all\nday, and her husband said nothing to comfort her, because he did not\nknow what to say. By the time it grew dark, her face was so swelled and\nsore that she could not bear to touch it, and she had cried herself\nalmost blind, but still the tears were rolling down. When the time came\nfor the clock to strike twelve, her husband took her hand and led her\nto the kitchen, and there she sat with her face in her hands sobbing.\nJust as the clock struck, they heard the voice like thunder shouting,\n\u201cStop! I am coming up,\u201d and the wife peeped between her fingers and\nsaw the little thing no bigger than a black beetle come through the\nhole and then grow, and grow, and grow, till it was like an ugly little\nblack woman near a foot high. And when she saw how hideous it was she\nthought, \u201cNever, never will I consent to have a skin like that\u2014not for\nmillions of pounds.\u201d\n\nThe gnome did not speak to her, but said to the ploughman, \u201cSo you have\nbrought your wife. That is a good thing, if you wish me to remain with\nyou. So now tell her to take down her hands and let me see this face\nyou make such a fuss about. I have my knife all ready.\u201d\n\nAnd the ploughman saw that she had in her hand a tiny knife, which did\nnot look as if it could hurt any one.\n\n\u201cWife, wife,\u201d groaned the ploughman, \u201cwhat shall we do?\u201d\n\nThen the wife looked up out of her swollen eyes, and was just going to\nspeak, when the gnome gave a shriek. \u201cWhat?\u201d she cried, \u201cthat face! Do\nyou mean to say that is what you think so pretty, and that I am going\nto change my beautiful, dry, black skin for that swollen red mass? No,\nindeed. You must be mad. It is a good thing that I saw it in time. I\nshall leave the house at once.\u201d\n\n\u201cNay,\u201d cried the ploughman, \u201cbut it is you who are breaking your\ncompact this time.\u201d\n\nBut the gnome made no reply, but scuttled down through the hole as fast\nas it could, and the ploughman and his wife burst out laughing for joy.\nAnd that was the last they ever saw of it, and it must have gone right\naway, but they knew it had left some of its luck behind it, as they\nboth lived happily for the rest of their days.\n\n\nTHE END\n\n\n_Richard Clay & Sons, Limited, London & Bungay._\n\n\n\n\nBooks for the Young\n\n\n SYLVIA IN FLOWERLAND. By LINDA GARDINER. With Sixteen Illustrations by\n HERBERT E. BUTLER. 3_s._ 6_d._\n\n\u201cA charming fantasy.... We have never observed a more dexterous\nadministration of the facts of science in the guise of\nromance.\u201d\u2014_World._\n\n\u201cA charming book.\u201d\u2014_Guardian._\n\n\u201cThe illustrations are particularly good.\u201d\u2014_Spectator._\n\n LILY AND THE LIFT, and other Fairy Stories. By Mrs. HERBERT RAILTON.\n With Illustrations by the Author. Cloth, gilt edges, 3_s._ 6_d._\n\n\u201cAltogether a charming book for children.\u201d\u2014_Pall Mall Gazette._\n\n\u201cThe illustrations are very dainty.\u201d\u2014_Queen._\n\n THE LIFE OF AN ELEPHANT. With Twenty-four Illustrations. 3_s._ 6_d._\n\n\u201cBeautifully illustrated ... full of humour and pathos.\u201d\u2014_Christian\nWorld._\n\n THE LIFE OF A BEAR. His Birth, Education, and Adventures. With\n Twenty-four Illustrations. 3_s._ 6_d._\n\n\u201cNarrated with great skill, and whilst abounding in many quaint touches\nof humour, conveys incidentally, without being too didactic, many\nuseful lessons.\u201d\u2014_School Guardian._\n\n AMONG THE STARS; or, Wonderful Things in the Sky. By AGNES GIBERNE.\n With Coloured Illustrations. Sixth Thousand. 5_s._\n\n\u201cAn attempt to teach astronomy to small children ... it is very well\ndone.\u201d\u2014_Saturday Review._\n\n THE STARRY SKIES. First Lessons on the Sun, Moon and Stars. By AGNES\n GIBERNE. 2_s._ 6_d._\n\n\u201cNothing could be more attractive than the method of these excellent\nlittle books. The capital woodcuts also are of the kind that should\nleave a pleasant impression with the young, since they are strictly\nillustrative of the matter dealt with.\u201d\u2014_Saturday Review._\n\n\n\n\nHistorical Stories\n\n\n_BY THE REV. A. J. CHURCH_\n\n HELMET AND SPEAR. Stories from the Wars of the Greeks and Romans. With\n Eight Illustrations by G. MORROW. Cloth, 5_s._\n\n HEROES OF CHIVALRY AND ROMANCE. With Eight Coloured Illustrations by\n G. MORROW. Cloth, 5_s._\n\n\u201cCouched in vigorous language, and as exciting and interesting as it\ncan well be.\u201d\u2014_Church Bells._\n\n WITH THE KING AT OXFORD: A Story of the Great Rebellion. With Coloured\n Illustrations. Cloth, 5_s._\n\n\u201cExcellent sketches of the times.\u201d\u2014_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n THE COUNT OF THE SAXON SHORE: A Tale of the Departure of the Romans\n from Britain. With Sixteen Illustrations. Cloth, 5_s._\n\n\u201cA good stirring tale.\u201d\u2014_Daily News._\n\n TO THE LIONS: A Tale of the Early Christians. Cloth, 3_s._ 6_d._\n\n\u201cThe picture of the life of the early Christians is drawn with\nadmirable simplicity and distinctness.\u201d\u2014_Guardian._\n\n THREE GREEK CHILDREN: A Story of Home in Old Time. With Illustrations.\n Cloth, 3_s._ 6_d._\n\n\u201cA very fascinating little book.\u201d\u2014_Spectator._\n\n THE STORY OF THE LAST DAYS OF JERUSALEM FROM JOSEPHUS. With Coloured\n Illustrations. Cloth, 3_s._ 6_d._\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n THE DRAGON OF THE NORTH: A Tale of the Normans in Italy. By E. J.\n OSWALD. With Illustrations. Cloth, 5_s._\n\n\u201cThere is fun and adventure enough in it to suit the youngsters, while\nit is thoroughly wholesome in every way.\u201d\u2014_Saturday Review._\n\n IN HIS NAME: A Story of the Waldenses seven hundred years ago. By E.\n E. HALE. With many Illustrations by G. P. JACOMB HOOD. Cloth, gilt\n edges, 6_s._\n\n\u201cCharmingly written, and full of life and character.... It is difficult\nto praise this work too highly.\u201d\u2014_Standard._\n\n\n\n\nHistorical Stories\n\n\n THE ISLAND OF THE ENGLISH: A Story of Napoleon\u2019s Days. By FRANK\n COWPER, Author of \u201cCaedwalla,\u201d etc. With Illustrations by GEORGE\n MORROW. Cloth, 5_s._\n\n\u201cA rattling story of old seafaring and naval days.\u201d\u2014_Academy._\n\n CAEDWALLA; OR, THE SAXONS IN THE ISLE OF WIGHT. By FRANK COWPER. With\n Illustrations. Third Edition. Cloth, 5_s._\n\n\u201cA perusal of the book will give boys a truer idea of the manners and\ncustoms of their rough forefathers than any other with which we are\nacquainted.\u201d\u2014_Standard._\n\n FOR THE HONOUR OF THE FLAG: A Story of our Sea Fights with the Dutch.\n By Commander ROBINSON R.N., and JOHN LEYLAND. With Illustrations by\n LANCELOT SPEED. Cloth, 5_s._\n\n\u201cAltogether, \u2018For the Honour of the Flag\u2019 is as reliable in its\ncharacter of historical novel as it is interesting and exciting as a\nstory of adventure.\u201d\u2014_Spectator._\n\n THE SIEGE OF NORWICH CASTLE: A Story of the Last Struggle against the\n Conqueror. By M. M. BLAKE. With Illustrations. 5_s._\n\n THE CITY IN THE SEA: Stories of the Deeds of the Old Venetians, from\n the Chronicles. With Coloured Illustrations. By the Author of \u201cBelt\n and Spur.\u201d 5_s._\n\n\u201cA beautiful volume, instructive as well as entertaining.\u201d\u2014_Graphic._\n\n\n_BY REV. E. GILLIAT._\n\n WOLF\u2019S HEAD: A Story of the Prince of Outlaws. With Eight\n Illustrations. Cloth, 5_s._\n\n\u201cBright, cheery, and always entertaining, Mr. Gilliat\u2019s clever tale can\nbe thoroughly recommended.\u201d\u2014_World._\n\n THE KING\u2019S REEVE AND HOW HE SUPPED WITH HIS MASTER. An Old World\n Comedy. With Illustrations by SYDNEY HALL. Cloth, 5_s._\n\n\u201cWe have read no other historical story so fascinating since we closed\n\u2018In Lincoln Green.\u2019\u201d\u2014_St. James\u2019s Gazette._\n\n IN LINCOLN GREEN: A Merrie Tale of Robin Hood. Illustrated by RALPH\n CLEAVER. Second Edition. Cloth, 5_s._\n\n\u201cOne of the very best boys\u2019 books we have taken up for many a year.\nHere is a story of outlaws which positively rings with the merriment of\ngreens.\u201d\u2014_Daily Chronicle._\n\n\n\n\nTales by Miss Winchester\n\n\n A NEST OF SPARROWS. Tenth Edition. 5_s._\n\n\u201cMiss Winchester not only writes with skill, but writes from the heart,\nand with full knowledge of her subject. Her story is most genuine,\npathetic, without being sad.\u201d\u2014_Pall Mall Gazette._\n\n UNDER THE SHIELD. A Tale. Seventh Edition. 5_s._\n\n\u201cWe welcome with real pleasure another book by the author of \u2018A Nest of\nSparrows.\u2019 \u2018Under the Shield\u2019 is to be noted for its purity of tone and\nhigh aspirations.... There is true fun in the book, too.\u201d\u2014_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n A NEST OF SKYLARKS. A Story. With Illustrations. 5_s._\n\n\u201cMiss Winchester\u2019s tales for girls are right in feeling, unaffected in\nsentiment, true in sympathy, high and exact in principle, and sound\nin judgment. \u2018A Nest of Skylarks\u2019 is in all respects worthy of the\nprevious stories.\u201d\u2014_World._\n\n A DOUBLE CHERRY. A Story. With Illustrations. 5_s._\n\n\u201cHas written no more successful story.\u201d\u2014_Scotsman._\n\n ADRIFT IN A GREAT CITY. A Story. Second Edition. With Illustrations by\n G. P. JACOMB HOOD. 5_s._\n\n\u201cOne of Miss Winchester\u2019s pleasantly-written tales.... In its\ndescriptions of slum life in Liverpool it is equal to any of her\nprevious efforts.\u201d\u2014_Daily Telegraph._\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nBy Miss E. Ward\n\n FRESH FROM THE FENS: A Story of Three Lincolnshire Lasses. With Eight\n Illustrations. 5_s._\n\n\u201cA pretty tale simply and effectively told.\u201d\u2014_Daily News._\n\n A PAIR OF ORIGINALS. A Story. With Eight Illustrations. 5_s._\n\n\u201cThis is a charming book.\u201d\u2014_Bristol Times._\n\n ST. DUNSTAN\u2019S CLOCK: A Story of 1666. With Eight Illustrations. 5_s._\n\n\u201cA pretty story with some very good illustrations ... the description\nof the Fire of London adds greatly to its interest.\u201d\u2014_Saturday Review._\n\n\nLONDON: SEELEY & CO. LTD., 38 GREAT RUSSELL ST.\n\n\n\n\nTRANSCRIBER\u2019S NOTES.\n\n 1. Silently corrected simple spelling, grammar, and typographical\n    errors.\n\n 2. Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed.","title":"The windfairies, and other tales","tradition":"folklore-oral-tradition","translated_text":null,"word_count":46559}