DOUBLEDAY, DORAN & COMPANY, INC.
GARDEN CITY 1934 NEW YORK
_Copyright, 1906, by_
MCCLURE, PHILLIPS & CO.
COPYRIGHT, 1910, BY
DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES
AT
THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS, GARDEN CITY, N. Y.
_Messrs. McClure, Phillips & Company wish to make acknowledgment of
their indebtedness to the following publishers:_
_Little, Brown & Company, for permission to use "Blanche and Vermilion"
and "Prince Desire and Princess Mignonette" from Old-Fashioned Fairy
Tales;_
_A. Wessells Company, for permission to use the story of "The Clever
Prince" from Fairy Tales from Afar;_
_American Book Company, for permission to use "Drakesbill and His
Friends" from Fairy Tales and Fables;_
_University Publishing Company, for permission to use "The Troll's
Hammer" from Fairy Life;_
_Harper & Brothers, for permission to use "The Fair One with Golden
Locks," "The White Cat," "Prince Cherry," and "The Frog Prince" from
Miss Mulock's Fairy Book, and "Yvon and Finette," "The Twelve Months,"
and "The Story of Coquerico" from Laboulaye's Fairy Tales of all
Nations;_
_G. P. Putnam's Sons, for permission to use "History of Tom Thumb" and
"Tattercoats" from Joseph Jacobs's English Fairy Tales; "Munachar and
Manachar" from Joseph Jacobs's Celtic Fairy Tales; and "Master Tobacco,"
"Mother Roundabout's Daughter," and "The Sheep and the Pig" from
Dasent's Tales from the Field;_
_F. A. Stokes Company, for permission to use "Lars, My Lad," and
"Twigmuntus and Cowbelliantus" from Fairy Tales from the Swedish;_
_Longmans, Green & Company, for permission to use the following
stories: "The Yellow Dwarf," "The Many-Furred Creature," "Spindle,
Shuttle, and Needle," "Princess and the Glass Hill," "The Golden Crab,"
"The Magic Ring," "Snow-white and Rose-red," "Graciosa and Percinet,"
"The Iron Stove," "The Good Little Mouse," and "The Three Feathers" from
the Andrew Lang Fairy Books._
_We also wish to express our thanks to Mr. Seumas MacManus, for
permission to use "The Bee, the Harp, and the Bum-Clock," "The Long
Leather Bag," and "The Widow's Daughter" from his books, Donegal Fairy
Tales and In Chimney Corners, published by us._
_CONTENTS_
SCANDINAVIAN
PAGE
EAST O' THE SUN AND WEST O' THE MOON 3
THE GOLDEN LANTERN, GOLDEN GOAT, AND GOLDEN CLOAK 13
MOTHER ROUNDABOUT'S DAUGHTER 21
THE BEAR AND SKRATTEL 28
THE GOLDEN BIRD 37
THE DOLL IN THE GRASS 45
THE PRINCESS ON THE GLASS HILL 47
THE RAM AND THE PIG WHO WENT INTO THE WOODS
TO LIVE BY THEMSELVES 56
THE TROLL'S HAMMER 60
THE CLEVER PRINCE 65
"LARS, MY LAD!" 70
TWIGMUNTUS, COWBELLIANTUS, PERCHNOSIUS 85
ENGLISH
MASTER TOBACCO 89
THE HISTORY OF TOM THUMB 95
TATTERCOATS 101
HISTORY OF JACK THE GIANT-KILLER 104
FRENCH
YVON AND FINETTE 109
THE FAIR ONE WITH GOLDEN LOCKS 138
THE LITTLE GOOD MOUSE 148
THE STORY OF BLANCHE AND VERMILION 161
PRINCE DESIRE AND PRINCESS MIGNONETTA 165
THE YELLOW DWARF 171
GRACIOSA AND PERCINET 179
DRAK, THE FAIRY 197
DRAKESBILL AND HIS FRIENDS 202
RIQUET WITH THE TUFT 209
THE WHITE CAT 216
PRINCE CHERRY 229
THE TWELVE MONTHS 264
SPANISH
THE STORY OF COQUERICO 254
THE BIRD-CAGE MAKER 259
GAELIC
THE BEE, THE HARP, THE MOUSE, AND THE BUM-CLOCK 271
THE LONG LEATHER BAG 279
THE WIDOW'S DAUGHTER 288
MUNACHAR AND MANACHAR 292
GERMAN
THE WILD SWANS 238
THE ROAD TO FORTUNE 295
THE GOLDEN CRAB 301
THE TABLE, THE ASS, AND THE STICK 307
THE LITTLE BROTHER AND SISTER 318
THE OLD GRIFFIN 324
THE THREE FEATHERS 330
THE HOUSE IN THE WOOD 334
RAPUNZEL 339
THE QUEEN BEE 343
THE MANY-FURRED CREATURE 345
SNOW-WHITE AND ROSE-RED 350
THE FROG PRINCE 357
THE GOOSE GIRL 361
BRIAR ROSE 367
THE IRON STOVE 370
RUMPEL-STILTS-KEN 376
FAITHFUL JOHN, THE KING'S SERVANT 379
SPINDLE, SHUTTLE, AND NEEDLE 386
RUSSIAN
THE MAGIC EGG 390
THE SPARROW AND THE BUSH 402
THE IRON WOLF 404
EAST INDIAN
THE GRATEFUL COBRA 408
THE MAGIC RING 413
TIT FOR TAT 426
THE BRAHMAN, THE TIGER, AND THE SIX JUDGES 427
MUCHIE LAL 431
THE VALIANT CHATTEEMAKER 439
_ILLUSTRATIONS_
LITTLE BROTHER AND SISTER _Frontispiece_
FACING
PAGE
THE LASSIE RIDING OVER THE SEA ON THE BACK OF
THE NORTH WIND 10
THE TROLL'S HUT, THE LANTERN, AND THE GOAT WITH
THE GOLDEN HORNS 14
"SHE SAID SHE WOULD SIT AND DRIVE IN A SILVER
SPOON" 46
JUST AS CINDERLAD TURNED HIS HORSE AROUND, THE
PRINCESS THREW THE GOLDEN APPLE 52
"AND WHEN HE SET HER DOWN HE GAVE HER A KISS" 90
TATTERCOATS FORGOT ALL HER TROUBLES AND FELL TO
DANCING 102
"THE GIANT AND THE CONJURER NOW KNEW THAT THEIR
WICKED COURSE WAS AT AN END" 108
"HE FLUNG HUGE MASSES OF ROCK AFTER THE VESSEL" 122
"SHE WORE THEM ALWAYS...LOOSE AND FLOWING" 138
"I FEEL AS IF I WERE THE DAUGHTER OF SOME GREAT
KING" 158
"HE WAS A WEEK TRYING TO TREAD ON THIS FATAL TAIL" 166
THE MERMAID TAKING THE KING OF THE GOLDEN MINES TO
THE STEEL CASTLE 178
"MICHEAL, PETRIFIED, STOOD MUTE, . . . CONTEMPLATING
WITH A FRIGHTENED AIR THIS INCONGRUOUS DANCE" 200
"ELIZA WENT, AND THE KING AND THE ARCHBISHOP FOLLOWED
HER" 252
"MARCH ROSE IN TURN, AND STIRRED THE FIRE WITH THE
STAFF, WHEN BEHOLD! . . . IT WAS SPRING" 266
"AN UGLY OLD WOMAN WITH THE MOST MONSTROUS NOSE EVER
BEHELD" 292
"IN THIS WAY THE FISHERMAN CARRIED HIM TO THE CASTLE" 304
"IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, WHEN GRIFFIN WAS SNORING
AWAY LUSTILY, JACK REACHED UP AND PULLED A
FEATHER OUT OF HIS TAIL" 328
"THEN DUMMLING'S LOVELY MAIDEN SPRANG LIGHTLY AND
GRACEFULLY THROUGH THE RING" 332
""WHAT ARE YOU STANDING THERE GAPING FOR?" SCREAMED
THE DWARF" 356
"FALADA, FALADA, THERE THOU HANGEST!" 364
"AT LAST HE REACHED THE TOWER . . . WHERE BRIER ROSE
WAS ASLEEP" 370
"JUST AS IT HAD COME TO THE END OF THE GOLDEN THREAD
IT REACHED THE KING'S SON" 388
"THE RANEE SAID, 'THIS IS A DEAR LITTLE GIRL'" 434
Throned on a grassy knoll, I watch
The elfin host come trooping by,
And hear the whir of fairy wings,
The goblin voices, shrill and high.
Behind them glides a magic train
Of Kings and Princes, armor-clad,
And serving as their squires bold
Boots, Ashiepattle, Cinderlad.
With silken rustle, flash of gem,
Queen and Czaritsa sweep along,
While red-capped Troll and rainbow Sprite
Peep out amid the enchanted throng.
_Ting-ling, ting-ling, how sweet the ring,
Like golden bells, of fairy laughter;
Rap-tap, rap-tap, how sharp the clap
Of fairy footfalls following after!_
Where witch-grass grows and fern-seed lies,
A Fairy Ring is dimly seen;
And there a glitt'ring host is met
To dance upon the moonlit green.
Riquet, the Tufted, lightly turns
The Fair One with the Golden Hair;
And Prince Desire and Mignonette
Form yet another graceful pair.
Tall as a tower stands Galifron;
The Desert Fay, with snakes bedight,
First pirouettes with him and then
With wee Tom Thumb, King Arthur's Knight.
_Ting-ling, ting-ling, how sweet the ring,
Like golden bells, of fairy laughter;
Rap-tap, rap-tap, how sharp the clap
Of fairy footfalls following after!_
Sweet, unseen harpers harp and sing,
Faint elfin horns the air repeat;
Rapunzel shakes her shining braids,
The White Cat trips with velvet feet.
Rose-red, Snow-white, the faithful Bear,
Cross hands with gallant Percinet;
While Tattercoats, in turn, salutes
Yvon, the Fearless, and Finette.
--But hark! the cock begins to crow;
The darkness turns to day, and, look!
The fairy dancers whirl within
The crimson covers of this book!
NORA ARCHIBALD SMITH
_INTRODUCTION_
_"THERE was once upon a time a king who had a garden; in that garden was
an apple tree, and on that apple tree grew a golden apple every year."_
_These stories are the golden apples that grew on the tree in the king's
garden; grew and grew and grew as the golden years went by; and being
apples of gold they could never wither nor shrink nor change, so that
they are as beautiful and precious for you to pluck to-day as when first
they ripened long, long ago._
_Perhaps you do not care for the sort of golden apples that grew in the
king's garden; perhaps you prefer plain russets or green pippins? Well,
these are not to be despised, for they also are wholesome food for
growing boys and girls; but unless you can taste the flavor and feel the
magic that lies in the golden apples of the king's garden you will lose
one of the joys of youth._
_No one can help respecting apples (or stories) that gleam as brightly
to-day as they did hundreds and thousands of years ago, when first the
tiny blossoms ripened into precious fruit._
_"Should you ask me whence these stories,
Whence these legends and traditions
With the odors of the forest,
With the dew and damp of meadows?"--_
_I can say only that the people were telling fairy tales in Egypt, in
Joseph's time, more than three thousand years ago; and that grand old
Homer told them in the famous "Odyssey," with its witches and giants,
its cap of darkness, and shoes of swiftness. Old nurses and village
crones have repeated them by the fireside and in the chimney corner;
shepherds and cowherds have recounted them by the brookside, until the
children of the world have all learned them by heart, bequeathing them,
generation after generation, as a priceless legacy to their own
children. Nor must you fancy that they have been told in your own tongue
only. Long, long before the art of printing was known, men and women of
all nations recited these and similar tales to one another, never
thinking that the day would come when they would be regarded as the
peculiar property of youth and childhood. There is not a country in
Europe, Asia, Africa, Australia, or the islands of the sea where fairy
stories of one sort or another have not been current since the dawn of
speech; and to make this Fairy Ring of sixty-odd tales the editors have
read and sifted as many hundreds. You will miss Cinderella, Red Riding
Hood, Jack and the Beanstalk, Toads and Diamonds, Puss in Boots,
Bluebeard, Beauty and the Beast, and other favorites, but these have
been omitted because they can be easily found in half a dozen volumes
already on your shelves, and we preferred to give you in their stead
stories less well known and hackneyed._
_The so-called Household Tales, such as Drakesbill, The Little Good
Mouse, and The Grateful Cobra go back to the times when men thought of
animals as their friends and brothers, and in the fireside stories of
that period the central figures were often wise and powerful beasts,
beasts that had language, assumed human form, and protected as well as
served mankind. Frogs, fishes, birds, wolves, cobras, cats, one and all
win our sympathy, admiration, and respect as we read of their deeds of
prowess, their sagacious counsel, their superhuman power of overcoming
obstacles and rescuing from danger or death the golden-haired princess,
the unhappy queen mother, or the intrepid but unfortunate prince._
_The giants and ogres and witches in the fairy stories need not greatly
affright even the youngest readers. For the most part they overreach
themselves in ill-doing and are quite at the mercy (as they properly
should be) of the brave and virtuous knight or the clever little
princess._
_If you chance to be an elder brother or sister it may surprise and
distress you to find that all the grace, courage, wit, and beauty, as
well as most of the good fortune, are vested in the youngest member of
the household. The fairy-tale family has customs of its own when it
comes to the distribution of vices and virtues, and the elder sons and
daughters are likely to be haughty, selfish, and cruel, while the
younger ones are as enchantingly beautiful as they are marvelously
amiable. The malevolent stepmother still further complicates the
domestic situation, and she is so wicked and malicious that if it were
not for the dear and delightful one in your own household, or the
equally lovable one next door, you might think stepmothers worse than
ogres or witches. I cannot account for this prejudice, except that
perhaps the ideal of mother love and mother goodness has always been so
high in the world that the slightest deviation from it has been held up
to scorn. As for the superhuman youngest son and daughter, perhaps they
are used only to show us that the least and humblest things and persons
are capable of becoming the mightiest and most powerful._
_Wiseacres (and people who have no love for golden apples) say that in
many of these tales "The greater the rogue the better his fortune"; but
the Grimm brothers, most famous and most faithful of fairy-tale
collectors, reply that the right user of these narratives "will find no
evil therein, but, as an old proverb has it, merely a witness of his own
heart. Children point at the stars without fear, while others, as the
popular superstition goes, thereby offend the angels."_
_The moment you have plucked a golden apple from the magic tree in the
king's garden (which phrase, being interpreted, means whenever you begin
one of the tales in this book) you will say farewell to time and space
as readily as if you had put on a wishing cap, or a pair of seven league
boots, or had blown an elfin pipe to call the fairy host. It matters not
when anything happened. It is "Once upon a time," or "A long time ago."
As to just where, that is quite as uncertain and unimportant, for we all
feel familiar with the fairy-tale landscape, which has delightful
features all its own, and easily recognizable. The house is always in
the heart of a deep, deep wood like the one "amidst the forest darkly
green" where Snowwhite lived with the dwarfs. You know the Well at the
World's End whence arose the Frog Prince; the Glass Mountain that
Cinderlad climbed, first in his copper, then in his silver, then in his
golden armor; the enchanted castle where the White Cat dwelt; the sea
over which Faithful John sailed with the Princess of the Golden Roof._
_In the story of The Spindle, the Shuttle, and the Needle, the prince
has just galloped past the cottage in the wood where the maiden is
turning her wheel, when the spindle leaps out of her hand to follow him
on his way--leaps and dances and pursues him along the woodland path,
the golden thread dragging behind. Then the prince turns (fairy princes
always turn at the right time), sees the magic spindle, and, led by the
shimmering thread, finds his way back to the lovely princess, the
sweetest, loveliest, thriftiest, most bewitching little princess in the
whole world, and a princess he might never have found had it not been
for the kind offices of the spindle, shuttle, and needle._
_This book is the magic spindle; the stories that were golden apples
have melted into a golden thread, a train of bright images that will
lead you into a radiant country where no one ever grows old; where, when
the prince finds and loves the princess, he marries her and they are
happy ever after; where the obstacles of life melt under the touch of
comprehending kindness; where menacing clouds of misfortune are blown
away by gay good will; and where wicked little trolls are invariably
defeated by wise simpletons._
_We feel that we can do anything when we journey in this enchanting
country. Come, then, let us mount and be off; we can ride fast and far,
for imagination is the gayest and fleetest of steeds. Let us climb the
gilded linden tree and capture the Golden Bird. Let us plunge into the
heart of the Briar Wood where the Rose o' the World lies sleeping. Let
us break the spell that holds all her court in drowsy slumber, and
then, coming out into the sunshine, mount and ride again into the
forest. As we pass the Fairy Tree on the edge of the glade we will pluck
a Merry Leaf, for this, when tucked away in belt or pouch, will give us
a glad heart and a laughing eye all the day long. We shall meet ogres,
no doubt, and the more the merrier, for, like Finette, we have but to
cry "Abracadabra!" to defeat not ogres only, but wicked bailiffs,
stewards, seneschals, witch hags, and even the impossibly vicious
stepmother! Cormoran and Blunderbore will quail before us, for our magic
weapons, like those of Cornish Jack, will be all-powerful. Then, flushed
with triumph we will mount the back of the North Wind and search for the
castle that lies East o' the Sun and West o' the Moon. Daylight will
fade, the stars come out, the fire burn low on the hearth, playmates'
voices sound unheeded. We shall still sit in the corner of the window
seat with the red-covered volume on our knees; for hours ago the magic
spindle wrought its spell, and we have been following the golden thread
that leads from this work-a-day world into fairyland._
_KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN_
_East o' the Sun and West o' the Moon_
ONCE on a time there was a poor husbandman who had so many children that
he hadn't much of either food or clothing to give them. Pretty children
they all were, but the prettiest was the youngest daughter, who was so
lovely that there was no end to all her loveliness.
So one day--'twas on a Thursday evening, late at the fall of the year,
the weather was so wild and rough outside, and it was so cruelly dark,
and rain fell and wind blew till the walls of the cottage shook
again--there they all sat round the fire, busy with this thing and that.
But just then, all at once, something gave three taps on the windowpane.
Then the father went out to see what was the matter, and when he got out
of doors, what should he see but a great big white bear!
"Good evening to you," said the White Bear.
"The same to you," said the man.
"Will you give me your youngest daughter? If you will, I'll make you as
rich as you are now poor," said the Bear.
Well, the man would not be at all sorry to be rich, but still he thought
he must have a bit of a talk with his daughter first, so he went in and
told them how there was a great white bear waiting outside, who had
given his word to make them rich if he could only have the youngest
daughter.
The lassie said "No" outright. Nothing could get her to say anything
else. So the man went out and settled it with the White Bear that he
should come again the next Thursday evening and get an answer.
Meantime, he talked his daughter over, and kept on telling her of all
the riches they would get, and how well off she would be herself; and
so at last she thought better of it, and washed and mended her rags,
made herself as smart as she could, and was ready to start.
Next Thursday evening came the White Bear to fetch her, and she got upon
his back with her bundle, and off they went.
So, when they had gone a bit of the way, the White Bear said:
"Are you afraid?"
No, she wasn't.
"Well, mind and hold tight to my shaggy coat, and then there's nothing
to fear," said the White Bear.
So she rode a long, long way, until they came to a very steep hill.
There, on the face of it, the White Bear gave a knock, and a door
opened, and they came into a castle where there were many rooms, all lit
up, rooms gleaming with silver and gold, and there, too, was a table
ready laid, and it was all as grand as grand could be.
Then the White Bear gave her a silver bell, and when she wanted anything
she had only to ring it and she would get it at once.
Well, after she had eaten and drunk, and evening wore on, she got sleepy
after her journey, and thought she would like to go to bed. So she rang
the bell, and she had scarce taken hold of it before she came into a
chamber where there was a bed made, as fair and white as anyone could
wish to sleep in, with silken pillows and curtains and gold fringe.
She slept quite soundly until morning; then she found her breakfast
waiting in a pretty room. When she had eaten it, the girl made up her
mind to take a walk around, in order to find out if there were any other
people there besides herself.
But she saw nobody but an old woman, whom she took to be a witch, and as
the dame beckoned to her, the girl went at once.
"Little girl," said the Witch, "if you'll promise not to say a word to
anybody, I'll tell you the secret about this place."
Of course, the girl promised at once, so the old dame said:
"In this house there lives a White Bear, but you must know that he is
only a White Bear in the daytime. Every night he throws off his beast
shape and becomes a man, for he is under the spell of a wicked fairy.
Now, be sure and not mention this to anybody, or misfortune will come,"
and with these words she disappeared.
So things went on happily for some time, but at last the girl began to
grow sad and sorrowful, for she went about all day alone, and she longed
to go home to see her father and mother and brothers and sisters.
"Well, well," said the Bear, "perhaps there's a cure for all this
sorrow. But you must promise me one thing. When you go home, you mustn't
talk about me, except when they are all present, or, if you do, you will
bring bad luck to both of us."
So one Sunday the White Bear came and said now they would set off to see
her father and mother.
Well, off they started, she sitting on his back, and they went far and
long. At last they came to a grand house, and there her brothers and
sisters were running about out of doors at play, and everything was so
pretty 'twas a joy to see.
"This is where your father and mother live now," said the White Bear;
"but don't forget what I told you, or you'll make us both unlucky."
No--bless her!--she'd not forget, and when they reached the house the
White Bear turned right about and left her.
Then, when she went in to see her father and mother, there was such joy
there was no end to it. None of them could thank her enough for all the
good fortune she had brought them.
They had everything they wished, as fine as could be, and they all
wanted to know how she got on and where she lived.
Well, she said it was very good to live where she did, and she had all
she wished. What she said besides I don't know, but I don't believe any
of them had the right end of the stick, or that they got much out of
her.
But after dinner her sister called her outside the room, and asked all
manner of questions about the White Bear--whether he was cross, and
whether she ever set eyes on him, and such like--and the end of it all
was that she told her sister the story of how the White Bear was under a
spell.
But the other girl wouldn't listen to the story, for she said it
couldn't be true, and this made the youngest daughter very angry.
In the evening the White Bear came and fetched her away, and when they
had gone a bit of the way he asked her whether she had done as he had
told her and refused to speak about him.
Then she confessed that she had spoken a few words to her sister about
him, and the Bear was very angry, for he said she would surely bring bad
luck to them both.
When they reached home, she remembered how her sister had refused to
believe the story about the White Bear, so in the night, when she knew
that the Bear was fast asleep, she stole out of bed, lighted her candle,
and crept into his room. Yes, there he lay fast asleep, but instead of
being a White Bear, he was the handsomest Prince you ever saw. She gave
such a start that she dropped three spots of hot tallow from the candle
on to his pillow, so she ran off in a great fright.
Next morning the White Bear said to her: "I fear you have found out my
secret, for I saw the drops of tallow on my pillow this morning, and now
I know that you spoke to your sister about me. If you had only kept
quiet for a whole year, then I should have become a man for always, and
I should have made you my wife at once. But now all ties are snapped
between us, and I must go away to a big castle which stands East o' the
sun and West o' the moon, and there, too, lives a Princess with a nose
three ells long, and she's the wife I must have now."
The girl wept, and took it ill, but there was no help for it, go he
must.
Then she asked if she mightn't go with him.
No! she mightn't.
"Tell me the way, then," she said, "and I'll search you out; that,
surely, I may get leave to do."
Yes; she might do that, but there was no way to the place. It lay East
o' the sun and West o' the moon, and thither she'd never find her way.
So next morning, when she woke, both Prince and castle were gone, and
there she lay on a little green patch, in the midst of the thick, gloomy
wood, and by her side lay the same bundle of rags that she had brought
with her from her old home.
So when she had rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and wept till she was
tired, she set out on her way and walked many, many days, till she came
to a lofty crag. Under it sat an old hag, who played with a golden
apple, which she tossed about. The lassie asked her if she knew the way
to the Prince who lived in the castle that lay East o' the sun and West
o' the moon, and who was to marry a Princess with a nose three ells
long.
"How did you come to know about him?" said the old hag; "but maybe you
are the lassie who ought to have had him?"
Yes, she was.
"So, so, it's you, is it?" said the old hag. "Well, all I know about him
is that he lives in the castle that lies East o' the sun and West o' the
moon, and thither you'll come, late or never; but still you may have the
loan of my horse, and on him you can ride to my next neighbor. Maybe
she'll be able to tell you what you want to know; and when you get
there, just give the horse a switch under the left ear, and beg him to
be off home; and stay, you may take this golden apple with you."
So she got upon the horse and rode a long, long time, till she came to
another crag, under which sat another old hag, with a golden
carding-comb in her hand. The lassie asked her if she knew the way to
the castle that lay East o' the sun and West o' the moon, and she
answered, like the first old hag, that she knew nothing about it, except
that it was East o' the sun and West o' the moon.
"And thither you'll come, late or never; but you shall have the loan of
my horse to go to my next neighbor; maybe she'll tell you all about it;
and when you get there, just switch the horse under the left ear and beg
him to be off home."
And this old hag gave her the golden carding-comb; it might be she'd
find some use for it, she said. So the lassie got up on the horse and
rode far, far away, and had a weary time; and so at last she came to
another great crag, under which sat another old hag, spinning with a
golden spinning wheel. The lassie asked her, too, if she knew the way to
the Prince and where the castle was that lay East o' the sun and West o'
the moon. So it was the same thing over again.
"Maybe it's you who ought to have had the Prince?" said the old hag.
Yes, it was.
But, she, too, didn't know the way a bit better than the other two. East
o' the sun and West o' the moon she knew it was; that was all.
"And thither you'll come, late or never; but I'll lend you my horse, and
then I think you'd best ride to the East Wind and ask him; maybe he
knows those parts and can blow you thither. But when you get to him, you
need only give the horse a switch under the left ear, and he'll trot
home of himself."
And so, too, she gave the lassie the golden spinning wheel.
"Maybe you'll find a use for it," said the old hag.
Then on she rode a great many weary days before she got to the East
Wind's house; but at last she did reach it, and then she asked the East
Wind if he could tell her the way to the Prince who dwelt East o' the
sun and West o' the moon. Yes, the East Wind had often heard about them,
both the Prince and the castle, but he couldn't tell her the way, for
he'd never blown so far.
"But, if you will, I'll go with you to my brother, the West Wind; maybe
he's been there, for he's much stronger. So, if you will just jump on my
back, I'll carry you thither."
Yes, she got on his back, and I should just think they went swiftly
along.
So, when they reached there, they went into the West Wind's house, and
the East Wind said the lassie he had brought was the one that ought to
have married the Prince who lived in the castle East o' the sun and West
o' the moon, and that she had set out to seek him. He then said how he
had come with her, and would be glad to know if the West Wind knew how
to get to the castle.
"Nay," said the West Wind, "for I've never blown so far; but, if you
will, I'll go with you to our brother, the South Wind, for he's much
stronger than either of us, and he has flapped his wings both far and
wide. Maybe he'll tell you; so you can get on my back and I'll carry you
to him."
Yes, she got on his back, and so they traveled to the South Wind, and
they weren't so very long on the way, I should think.
When they reached there, the West Wind asked him if he could tell them
the way to the castle that lay East o' the sun and West o' the moon, for
this was the lassie who ought to have married the Prince who lived
there.
"You don't say so! That's she, is it?" said the South Wind. "Well, I've
blustered about in most places in my time, but so far I have never
blown; but, if you will, I'll take you to my brother, the North Wind; he
is the oldest and strongest of all of us. If he doesn't know where to
find the place, you will never find anybody to tell you where it is. You
can get on my back and I'll carry you thither."
Yes, she got on his back, and away he went from his house at a very high
rate, and this time, too, she wasn't long on her way.
When they got to the North Wind's house, he was so wild and cross that
the puffs came from quite a long way off.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT?" he roared out to them, in such a voice that it made
them both shiver.
"Well," said the South Wind, "you needn't talk like that, for here I am,
your brother, the South Wind, and here is the lassie who ought to have
had the Prince who dwells at the castle that lies East o' the sun and
West o' the moon, and now she wants to know if you were ever there, and
can tell her the way, for she would be so glad to find it again."
[Illustration: THE LASSIE RIDING OVER THE SEA ON THE BACK OF THE NORTH
WIND]
"YES! I KNOW WELL ENOUGH WHERE IT IS," said the North Wind. "Once in my
life I blew an aspen leaf there, but I was so tired that I couldn't blow
another puff for days after. But if you really wish to go there, and
aren't afraid to trust yourself to me, I'll take you on my back and blow
you thither."
Yes! with all her heart. She must and would get thither, if it were
possible in any way; and as for fear, however madly he went, she
wouldn't be at all afraid.
"Very well, then," said the North Wind. "But you must sleep here
to-night, for we must have the whole day before us if we are to get
thither at all."
Early next morning the North Wind woke her, and puffed himself up, and
blew himself out, and made himself so stout and big 'twas fearful to
look at him; so off they went, up through the air, as if they would
never stop till they came to the world's end.
Down below there was such a storm, it threw down long tracts of wood and
many houses, and when it swept over the great sea, ships foundered by
hundreds.
So they tore on and on--nobody can believe how far they went--and all
the while they still went over the sea, and the North Wind got more and
more weary, and so out of breath he could scarce get out a puff. His
wings drooped and drooped, till at last he sank so low that the crests
of the waves dashed over his heels.
"Are you afraid?" asked the North Wind.
No, she wasn't.
But they weren't very far from land, and the North Wind had still so
much strength in him that he managed to throw her upon the shore under
the windows of the castle which lay East o' the sun and West o' the
moon; but then he was so weak and worn out that he had to stay there and
rest for many days before he was fit to return home.
Next morning the lassie sat down under the castle window and began to
play with the golden apple; and the first person she saw was Long-nose,
who was to marry the Prince.
"What do you want for your golden apple, lassie?" said Long-nose; and
she threw up the window.
"It's not for sale, for gold or money," said the lassie.
"If it's not for sale for gold or money, what is it that you will sell
it for?" said the Princess. "You may name your own price for it."
"Well, if you will let me speak a few words alone with the Prince who
lives in the castle, I will give you the apple," she answered.
Yes, she might; that could be done. So the Princess got the golden
apple, and the lassie was shown into the Prince's room. But when she got
inside she found that the Prince was fast asleep, and although she shook
him and called him loudly, it was no use, for she couldn't wake him, so
she had to go away again.
Next day she sat down under the castle window again, and began to card
with her golden carding-comb; and the same thing happened. The Princess
asked what she wanted for it; and she said it wasn't for sale for either
gold or money, but that if she might have a few words alone with the
Prince, the Princess should have the comb.
So she was taken up to the Prince's room, and again she found him fast
asleep; and although she wept and shook him for quite a long time she
couldn't get life into him.
So the next morning the lassie sat down under the castle window and
began to spin with her golden spinning wheel; and that, too, the
Princess with the long nose wanted to have.
So she threw up the window and asked what the lassie wanted for it; and
the girl said, as she had said twice before, that if she might have a
few words alone with the Prince the Princess might have the wheel, and
welcome.
Yes, she might do that; and the lassie was shown again into the Prince's
room. This time he was wide awake, and he was very pleased indeed to see
her.
"Ah!" said the Prince, "you've just come in the nick of time, for
to-morrow is to be our wedding day; but now I won't have Long-nose, and
you are the bride for me. I'll just say that I want to find out what my
wife is fit for, and then I'll beg her to wash the pillow slip which has
on it the three spots of tallow. She will be sure to say 'Yes'; but when
she tries to get out the spots she'll soon find that it is not possible,
for she is a troll, like all the rest of her family, and it is not
possible for a troll to get rid of the marks. Then I'll say that I won't
have any other bride than she who can wash out the spots of tallow, and
I'll call you in to do it."
The wedding was to take place next day, so just before the ceremony the
Prince said:
"First of all, I'd just like to see what my bride is fit for."
"Yes," said the mother, "I'm quite willing."
"Well, I have a pillow slip which, somehow or other, has got some spots
of grease on it, and I have sworn never to take any bride but the woman
who is able to wash them out for me. If she can't do that, she is not
worth having."
Well, that was no great thing, they said, so they agreed; and she with
the long nose began to wash away as hard as ever she could; but the more
she rubbed and scrubbed the bigger the spots grew.
"Ah!" said the old hag, her mother, "you can't wash; let me try."
But she hadn't long taken the job in hand before it got far worse than
ever; and with all her rubbing, wringing, and scrubbing, the spots grew
bigger and blacker and darker and uglier.
Then all the other trolls began to wash; but the longer it lasted the
blacker and uglier it grew, until at last it looked as though it had
been up the chimney.
"Ah!" said the Prince, "you are none of you worth a straw; you can't
wash. Why, there outside sits a beggar lassie, and I'll be bound she
knows how to wash better than the whole lot of you."
So he shouted to the lassie to come in, and in she came.
"Can you wash this clean, lassie?" said he.
"I don't know, but I think I can."
And almost before she had taken it and dipped it in the water, it was
white as driven snow, and whiter still.
"Yes, you are the lassie for me," said the Prince.
At that the old hag flew in such a rage that she burst on the spot, and
the Princess with the long nose after her; and then the whole pack of
trolls did the same.
As for the Prince and Princess, they had a grand wedding, and lived
happily at the castle East o' the sun and West o' the moon until the end
of their days.
_The Golden Lantern, Golden Goat, and Golden Cloak_
THERE was once a poor widow who had three sons. The two elder went out
to work for their living and while at home they were of little use, as
they seldom did as their mother wished, whatever she might say to them.
But the youngest lad always remained at home, and helped the old widow
in her daily occupations. Hence he was much beloved by his mother, but
disliked by his brothers, who in mockery gave him the nickname of
_Pinkel_.
One day the old widow said to her sons: "You must all go abroad in the
world, and seek your fortunes while you can. I am no longer able to feed
you here at home, now that you are grown up." The lads answered that
they wished for nothing better, since it was contrary to their mother's
will that they should remain at home. They then prepared for their
departure, and set out on their journey; but, after wandering about from
place to place, were unable to procure any employment.
After journeying thus for a long time, they came, late one evening, to a
vast lake. Far out in the water there was an island, on which there
appeared a strong light, as of fire. The lads stopped on shore observing
the wondrous light, and thence concluded that there must be human beings
in the place. As it was now dark, and the brothers knew not where to
find a shelter for the night, they resolved on taking a boat that lay
among the reeds, and rowing over to the island to beg a lodging. With
this view they placed themselves in the boat and rowed across. On
approaching the island they perceived a little hut standing at the
water's edge; on reaching which they discovered that the bright light
that shone over the neighborhood proceeded from a golden lantern that
stood at the door of the hut. In the yard without, a large goat was
wandering about, with golden horns, to which small bells were fastened,
that gave forth a pleasing sound whenever the animal moved. The brothers
wondered much at all this, but most of all at the old crone, who with
her daughter inhabited the hut. The crone was both old and ugly, but was
sumptuously clad in a pelisse or cloak, worked so artificially with
golden threads that it glittered like burnished gold in every hem. The
lads saw now very clearly that they had come to no ordinary human being,
but to a troll.
[Illustration: THE TROLL'S HUT, THE LANTERN, AND THE GOAT WITH THE
GOLDEN HORNS]
After some deliberation the brothers entered, and saw the crone standing
by the fireplace, and stirring with a ladle in a large pot that was
boiling on the hearth. They told their story and prayed to be allowed to
pass the night there; but the crone answered _No!_ at the same time
directing them to a royal palace, which lay on the other side of the
lake. While speaking she kept looking intently on the youngest boy, as
he was standing and casting his eyes over everything in the hut. The
crone said to him: "What is thy name, my boy?" The lad answered smartly:
"I am called Pinkel." The Troll then said: "Thy brothers can go their
way, but thou shalt stay here; for thou appearest to me very crafty, and
my mind tells me that I have no good to expect from thee if thou
shouldst stay long at the King's palace." Pinkel now humbly begged to be
allowed to accompany his brothers, and promised never to cause the crone
harm or annoyance. At length he also had leave to depart; after which
the brothers hastened to the boat, not a little glad that all three had
escaped so well in this adventure.
Toward the morning they arrived at a royal palace, larger and more
magnificent than anything they had ever seen before. They entered and
begged for employment. The eldest two were received as helpers in the
royal stables, and the youngest was taken as page to the King's young
son; and, being a sprightly, intelligent lad, he soon won the good will
of everyone, and rose from day to day in the King's favor. At this his
brothers were sorely nettled, not enduring that he should be preferred
to themselves. At length they consulted together how they might compass
the fall of their young brother, in the belief that afterwards they
should prosper better than before.
They therefore presented themselves one day before the King, and gave
him an exaggerated account of the beautiful lantern that shed light over
both land and water, adding that it ill beseemed a king to lack so
precious a jewel. On hearing this the King's attention was excited, and
he asked: "Where is this lantern to be found, and who can procure it for
me?" The brothers answered: "No one can do that unless it be our brother
Pinkel. He knows best where the lantern is to be found." The King was
now filled with a desire to obtain the golden lantern about which he had
heard tell, and commanded the youth to be called. When Pinkel came, the
King said: "If thou canst procure me the golden lantern that shines over
land and water I will make thee the chief man in my whole court." The
youth promised to do his best to execute his lord's behest, and the King
praised him for his willingness; but the brothers rejoiced at heart; for
they well knew it was a perilous undertaking, which could hardly
terminate favorably.
Pinkel now prepared a little boat, and, unaccompanied by anyone, rowed
over to the island inhabited by the Troll-crone. When he arrived it was
already evening, and the crone was busied in boiling porridge for
supper, as was her custom. The youth creeping softly up to the roof
cast from time to time a handful of salt through the chimney, so that it
fell down into the pot that was boiling on the hearth. When the porridge
was ready, and the crone had begun to eat, she could not conceive what
had made it so salt and bitter. She was out of humor, and chided her
daughter, thinking that she had put too much salt into the porridge; but
let her dilute the porridge as she might, it could not be eaten, so salt
and bitter was it. She then ordered her daughter to go to the well, that
was just at the foot of the hill, and fetch water, in order to prepare
fresh porridge. The maiden answered: "How can I go to the well? It is so
dark out of doors that I cannot find the way over the hill." "Then take
my gold lantern," said the crone, peevishly. The girl took the beautiful
gold lantern accordingly, and hastened away to fetch the water. But as
she stooped to lift the pail, Pinkel, who was on the watch, seized her
by the feet, and cast her headlong into the water. He then took the
golden lantern, and betook himself in all haste to his boat.
In the meantime the crone was wondering why her daughter stayed out so
long, and, at the same moment, chancing to look through the window she
saw the light gleaming far out on the water. At this sight she was
sorely vexed, and hurrying down to the shore, cried aloud: "Is that
thou, Pinkel?" The youth answered: "Yes, dear mother, it is I." The
Troll continued: "Art thou not a great knave?" The lad answered: "Yes,
dear mother, I am so." The crone now began to lament and complain,
saying: "Ah! what a fool was I to let thee go from me; I might have been
sure thou wouldst play me some trick. If thou ever comest hither again,
thou shalt not escape." And so the matter rested for that time.
Pinkel now returned to the King's palace, and became the chief person at
court, as the King had promised. But when the brothers were informed
what complete success he had had in his adventure, they became yet more
envious and embittered than before, and often consulted together how
they might accomplish the fall of their young brother, and gain the
King's favor for themselves.
Both brothers went, therefore, a second time before the King, and began
relating at full length about the beautiful goat that had horns of the
purest gold, from which little gold bells were suspended, which gave
forth a pleasing sound whenever the animal moved. They added that it ill
became so rich a king to lack so costly a treasure. On hearing their
story, the King was greatly excited, and said: "Where is this goat to be
found, and who can procure it for me?" The brothers answered: "That no
one can do, unless it be our brother Pinkel; for he knows best where the
goat is to be found." The King then felt a strong desire to possess the
goat with the golden horns, and therefore commanded the youth to appear
before him. When Pinkel came, the King said: "Thy brothers have been
telling me of a beautiful goat with horns of the purest gold, and little
bells fastened to the horns, which ring whenever the animal moves. Now
it is my will that thou go and procure for me this goat. If thou art
successful I will make thee lord over a third part of my kingdom." The
youth having listened to this speech, promised to execute his lord's
commission, if only fortune would befriend him. The King then praised
his readiness, and the brothers were glad at heart, believing that
Pinkel would not escape this time so well as the first.
Pinkel now made the necessary preparations and rowed to the island where
the Troll-wife dwelt. When he reached it, evening was already advanced,
and it was dark, so that no one could be aware of his coming, the golden
lantern being no longer there, but shedding its light in the royal
palace. The youth now deliberated with himself how to get the golden
goat; but the task was no easy one; for the animal lay every night in
the crone's hut. At length it occurred to his mind that there was one
method which might probably prove successful, though, nevertheless,
sufficiently difficult to carry into effect.
At night, when it was time for the crone and her daughter to go to bed,
the girl went as usual to bolt the door. But Pinkel was just outside on
the watch, and had placed a piece of wood behind the door, so that it
would not shut close. The girl stood for a long time trying to lock it,
but to no purpose. On perceiving this the crone thought there was
something out of order, and called out that the door might very well
remain unlocked for the night; as soon as it was daylight they could
ascertain what was wanting. The girl then left the door ajar and laid
herself down to sleep. When the night was a little more advanced, and
the crone and her daughter were snug in deep repose, the youth stole
softly into the hut, and approached the goat where he lay stretched out
on the hearth. Pinkel now stuffed wool into all the golden bells, lest
their sound might betray him; then seizing the goat, he bore it off to
his boat. When he had reached the middle of the lake, he took the wool
out of the goat's ears, and the animal moved so that the bells rang
aloud. At the sound the crone awoke, ran down to the water, and cried in
an angry tone: "Is that thou, Pinkel?" The youth answered: "Yes, dear
mother, it is." The crone said: "Hast thou stolen my golden goat?" The
youth answered: "Yes, dear mother, I have." The Troll continued: "Art
thou not a big knave?" Pinkel returned for answer: "Yes, I am so, dear
mother." Now the beldam began to whine and complain, saying: "Ah! what a
simpleton was I for letting thee slip away from me. I well knew thou
wouldst play me some trick. But if thou comest hither ever again, thou
shalt never go hence."
Pinkel now returned to the King's court and obtained the government of a
third part of the kingdom, as the King had promised. But when the
brothers heard how the enterprise had succeeded, and also saw the
beautiful lantern and the goat with golden horns, which were regarded by
everyone as great wonders, they became still more hostile and embittered
than ever. They could think of nothing but how they might accomplish his
destruction.
They went, therefore, one day again before the king, to whom they gave a
most elaborate description of the Troll-crone's fur cloak that shone
like the brightest gold and was worked with golden threads in every
seam. The brothers said it was more befitting a queen than a Troll to
possess such a treasure, and added that that alone was wanting to the
King's good fortune. When the King heard all this he became very
thoughtful, and said: "Where is this cloak to be found, and who can
procure it for me?" The brothers answered: "No one can do that except
our brother Pinkel; for he knows best where the golden cloak is to be
found." The King was thereupon seized with an ardent longing to possess
the golden cloak, and commanded the youth to be called before him. When
Pinkel came, the King said: "I have long been aware that thou hast an
affection for my young daughter; and thy brothers have been telling me
of a beautiful fur cloak which shines with the reddest gold in every
seam. It is, therefore, my will that thou go and procure for me this
cloak. If thou art successful, thou shalt be my son-in-law, and after me
shalt inherit the kingdom." When the youth heard this he was glad beyond
measure, and promised either to win the young maiden or perish in the
attempt. The King thereupon praised his readiness; but the brothers were
delighted in their false hearts, and trusted that the enterprise would
prove their brother's destruction.
Pinkel then betook himself to his boat and crossed over to the island
inhabited by the Troll-crone. On the way he anxiously deliberated with
himself how he might get possession of the crone's golden cloak; but it
appeared to him not very likely that his undertaking would prove
successful, seeing that the Troll always wore the cloak upon her. So
after having concerted divers plans, one more hazardous than another, it
occurred to him that he would try one method which might perhaps
succeed, although it was bold and rash.
In pursuance of his scheme he bound a bag under his clothes, and walked
with trembling step and humble demeanor into the beldam's hut. On
perceiving him, the Troll cast on him a savage glance, and said:
"Pinkel, is that thou?" The youth answered: "Yes, dear mother, it is."
The crone was overjoyed, and said: "Although thou art come voluntarily
into my power, thou canst not surely hope to escape again from here,
after having played me so many tricks." She then took a large knife and
prepared to make an end of poor Pinkel; but the youth, seeing her
design, appeared sorely terrified, and said: "If I must needs die, I
think I might be allowed to choose the manner of my death. I would
rather eat myself to death with milk porridge, than be killed with a
knife." The crone thought to herself that the youth had made a bad
choice, and therefore promised to comply with his wish. She then set a
huge pot on the fire, in which she put a large quantity of porridge.
When the mess was ready, she placed it before Pinkel that he might eat,
who for every spoonful of porridge that he put into his mouth, poured
two into the bag that was tied under his clothes. At length the crone
began to wonder how Pinkel could contrive to swallow such a quantity;
but just at the same moment the youth, making a show of being sick to
death, sank down from his seat as if he were dead, and unobserved cut a
hole in the bag, so that the porridge ran over the floor.
The crone, thinking that Pinkel had burst with the quantity of porridge
he had eaten, was not a little glad, clapped her hands together, and ran
off to look for her daughter, who was gone to the well. But as the
weather was wet and stormy, she first took off her beautiful fur cloak
and laid it aside in the hut. Before she could have proceeded far, the
youth came to life again, and springing up like lightning seized on the
golden cloak, and ran off at the top of his speed.
Shortly after, the crone perceived Pinkel as he was rowing in his little
boat. On seeing him alive again, and observing the golden cloak
glittering on the surface of the water, she was angry beyond all
conception, and ran far out on the strand, crying: "Is that thou,
Pinkel?" The youth answered: "Yes, it is I, dear mother." The crone
said: "Hast thou taken my beautiful golden cloak?" Pinkel responded:
"Yes, dear mother, I have." The Troll continued: "Art thou not a great
knave?" The youth replied: "Yes, I am so, dear mother." The old witch
was now almost beside herself, and began to whine and lament, and said:
"Ah! how silly was it of me to let thee slip away. I was well assured
thou wouldst play me many wicked tricks." They then parted from each
other.
The Troll-wife now returned to her hut, and Pinkel crossed the water,
and arrived safely at the King's palace; there he delivered the golden
cloak, of which everyone said that a more sumptuous garment was never
seen nor heard of. The King honorably kept his word with the youth, and
gave him his young daughter to wife. Pinkel afterwards lived happy and
content to the end of his days; but his brothers were and continued to
be helpers in the stable as long as they lived.
_Mother Roundabout's Daughter_
ONCE on a time there was a goody who had a son, and he was so lazy and
slow he would never turn his hand to anything that was useful; but
singing and dancing he was very fond of; and so he danced and sang as
long as it was day, and sometimes even some way on in the night. The
longer this lasted, the harder it was for the goody; the boy grew, and
meat he must have without stint, and more and more was spent in clothing
as he grew bigger and bigger, and it was soon worn out, I should think;
for he danced and sprang about both in wood and field.
At last the goody thought it too bad; so she told the lad that now he
must begin to turn his hand to work and live steadily, or else there was
nothing before both of them but starving to death. But that the lad had
no mind to do. He said he would far rather woo Mother Roundabout's
daughter; for if he could only get her, he would be able to live well
and softly all his days, and sing and dance, and never do one stroke of
work.
When his mother heard this she, too, thought it would be a very fine
thing; and so she fitted out the lad as well as she could, that he might
look tidy when he reached Mother Roundabout's house; and so he set off
on his way.
Now when he got out of doors the sun shone warm and bright; but it had
rained the night before, so that the ways were soft and miry and all the
bog holes stood full of water. The lad took a short cut to Mother
Roundabout's, and he sang and jumped, as was ever his wont; but just as
he sprang and leaped he came to a bog hole, and over it lay a little
bridge, and from the bridge he had to make a spring across a hole on to
a tuft of grass, that he might not dirty his shoes. But _plump_, it went
all at once, and just as he put his foot on the tuft it gave way under
him, and there was no stopping till he found himself in a nasty, deep,
dark hole. At first he could see nothing, but when he had been there a
while he had a glimpse of a rat, that came wiggle-waggle up to him with
a bunch of keys at the tip of her tail.
"What! you here, my boy?" said the rat. "Thank you kindly for coming to
me. I have waited long for you. You come, of course, to woo me, and you
are eager at it, I can very well see; but you must have patience yet a
while, for I shall have a great dower. I am not ready for my wedding
just yet, but I'll do my best that it shall be as soon as ever I can."
When she had said that, she brought out ever so many eggshells, with all
sorts of bits and scraps, such as rats are wont to eat, and set them
before him, and said:
"Now, you must sit down and eat; I am sure you must be both tired and
hungry."
But the lad thought he had no liking for such food.
"If I were only well away from this, above ground again," he thought to
himself, but he said nothing out loud.
"Now, I dare say you'd be glad to go home again," said the rat. "I know
your heart is set on this wedding, and I'll make all the haste I can;
and you must take with you this linen thread, and when you get up above
you must not look round, but go straight home, and on the way you must
mind and say nothing but
'Short before, and long back,
Short before, and long back';"
and as she said this she put the linen thread into his hand.
"Heaven be praised!" said the lad, when he got above ground. "Thither
I'll never come again, if I can help it."
But he still had the thread in his hand, and he sprang and sang as he
was wont; but even though he thought no more of the rat hole, he had got
his tongue into the tune, and so he sang,
"Short before, and long back,
Short before, and long back."
So when he got back home into the porch he turned round, and there lay
many, many hundred ells of the whitest linen, so fine that the handiest
weaving girl could not have woven it finer.
"Mother! mother! come out," he cried and roared.
Out came the goody in a bustle, and asked whatever was the matter; but
when she saw the linen woof, which stretched as far back as she could
see and a bit besides, she couldn't believe her eyes, till the lad told
her how it had all happened. And when she had heard it, and tried the
woof between her fingers, she grew so glad that she, too, began to dance
and sing.
So she took the linen and cut it out, and sewed shirts out of it both
for herself and her son, and the rest she took into the town and sold,
and got money for it. And now they both lived well and happily a while;
but when the money was all gone, the goody had no more food in the
house, and so she told her son he really must now begin to go to work,
and live like the rest of the world, else there was nothing for it but
starving for them both.
But the lad had more mind to go to Mother Roundabout and woo her
daughter. Well, the goody thought that a very fine thing, for now he had
good clothes on his back, and he was not such a bad-looking fellow
either. So she made him smart, and fitted him out as well as she could;
and he took out his new shoes and brushed them till they were as bright
as glass, and when he had done that, off he went.
But all happened just as it did before. When he got out of doors the sun
shone warm and bright; but it had rained overnight, so that it was soft
and miry, and all the bog holes were full of water. The lad took the
short cut to Mother Roundabout, and he sang and sprang as he was ever
wont. Now he took another way than the one he went before; but just as
he leaped and jumped, he got upon the bridge over the moor again, and
from it he had to jump over a bog hole on to a turf that he might not
soil his shoes. But _plump_ it went, and down it went under him, and
there was no stopping till he found himself in a nasty, deep, dark hole.
At first he could see nothing; but when he had been there a while he
caught a glimpse of a rat with a bunch of keys at the tip of her tail,
who came wiggle-waggle up to him.
"What! you here, my boy?" said the rat. "That was nice of you to wish to
see me so soon again. You are very eager, that I can see; but you really
must wait a while, for there is still something wanting to my dower,
though the next time you come, it shall be all right."
When she had said this she set before him all kinds of scraps and bits
in eggshells, such as rats eat and like; but the lad thought it all
looked like meat that had been already eaten once, and he wasn't hungry,
he said; and all the time he thought, "If I could only once get above
ground, well out of this hole." But he said nothing out loud.
So after a while the rat said:
"I dare say now you would be glad to get home again; but I'll hasten on
the wedding as fast as ever I can. And now you must take with you this
thread of wool; and when you come above ground you must not look round,
but go straight home, and all the way you must mind and say nothing but
'Short before, and long back,
Short before, and long back';"
and as she said that she gave him a thread of wool in his hand.
"Heaven be praised!" said the lad, "that I got away. Thither I'll never
go again, if I can help it"; and so he sang and jumped as he was wont.
As for the rat hole, he thought no more about it; but as he had got his
tongue into tune he sang,
"Short before, and long back,
Short before, and long back";
and so he kept on the whole way home.
When he had got into the yard at home again he turned and looked behind
him, and there lay the finest cloth, more than many hundred ells; aye,
almost above half a mile long, and so fine that no town dandy could have
had finer cloth to his coat.
"Mother! mother! come out!" cried the lad.
So the goody came out of doors, and clapped her hands, and was almost
ready to swoon for joy when she saw all that lovely cloth; and then he
had to tell her how he had got it, and how it had all happened from
first to last. Then they had a fine time of it, you may fancy. The lad
got new clothes of the finest sort, and the goody went off to the town
and sold the cloth by little and little, and made heaps of money. Then
she decked out her cottage, and looked as smart in her old days as
though she had been born a lady. So they lived well and happily; but at
last that money came to an end too, and so the day came when the goody
had no more food in the house, and then she told her son he really must
turn his hand to work, and live like the rest of the world, else there
was nothing but starvation staring both of them in the face.
But the lad thought it far better to go to Mother Roundabout and woo her
daughter. This time the goody thought so too, and said not a word
against it; for now he had new clothes of the finest kind, and he looked
so well, she thought it quite out of the question that anyone could say
"No" to so smart a lad. So she smartened him up, and made him as tidy as
she could; and he himself brought out his new shoes, and rubbed them
till they shone so he could see his face in them, and when he had done
that, off he went.
This time he did not take the short cut, but made a great bend, for down
to the rats he would not go if he could help it, he was so tired of all
that wiggle-waggle and that everlasting bridal gossip. As for the
weather and the ways, they were just as they had been twice before. The
sun shone, so that it was dazzling on the pools and bog holes, and the
lad sang and sprang as he was wont; but just as he sang and jumped,
before he knew where he was, he was on the very same bridge across the
bog again. So he tried to jump from the bridge over a bog hole on to a
tuft that he might not dirty his bright shoes. _Plump_ it went, and it
gave way with him, and there was no stopping till he was down in the
same nasty, deep, dark hole again. At first he was glad, for he could
see nothing; but when he had been there a while he had a glimpse of the
ugly rat, and loath he was to see her with the bunch of keys at the end
of her tail.
"Good day, my boy!" said the rat; "you are heartily welcome again, for I
see you can't bear to be any longer without me. Thank you, thank you
kindly; but now everything is ready for the wedding, and we shall set
off to church at once."
"Something dreadful is going to happen," thought the lad, but he said
nothing out loud.
Then the rat whistled, and there came swarming out such a lot of small
rats and mice of all the holes and crannies, and six big rats came
harnessed to a frying pan; two mice got up behind as footmen, and two
got up before and drove; some, too, got into the pan, and the rat with
the bunch of keys at her tail took her seat among them. Then she said to
the lad:
"The road is a little narrow here, so you must be good enough to walk by
the side of the carriage, my darling boy, till it gets broader, and then
you shall have leave to sit up in the carriage alongside of me."
"Very fine that will be, I dare say," thought the lad. "If I were only
well above ground, I'd run away from the whole pack of you." That was
what he thought, but he said nothing out loud.
So he followed them as well as he could; sometimes he had to creep on
all fours, and sometimes he had to stoop and bend his back as well, for
the road was low and narrow in places; but when it got broader he went
on in front, and looked about him how he might best give them the slip
and run away. But as he went forward he heard a clear, sweet voice
behind him, which said:
"Now the road is good. Come, my dear, and get up into the carriage."
The lad turned round in a trice, and had near lost both nose and ears.
There stood the grandest carriage, with six white horses to it, and in
the carriage sat a maiden as bright and lovely as the sun, and round her
sat others who were as pretty and soft as stars. They were a princess
and her playfellows, who had been bewitched all together. But now they
were free because he had come down to them, and never said a word
against them.
"Come now," said the princess. So the lad stepped up into the carriage,
and they drove to church; and when they drove from church again the
princess said: "Now we will drive first to my house, and then we'll send
to fetch your mother."
"That is all very well," thought the lad, for he still said nothing,
even now; but, for all that, he thought it would be better to go home to
his mother than down into that nasty rat hole. But just as he thought
that, they came to a grand castle; into it they turned, and there they
were to dwell. And so a grand carriage with six horses was sent to fetch
the goody, and when it came back they set to work at the wedding feast.
It lasted fourteen days, and maybe they are still at it. So let us all
make haste; perhaps we, too, may come in time to drink the bridegroom's
health and dance with the bride.
_The Bear and Skrattel_
ONE Christmas Day, the King of Norway sat in the great hall of his
palace, holding a feast. "Here's a health," said he, "to our brother the
King of Denmark! What present shall we send our royal brother as a
pledge of our good will, this Christmas-time?" "Send him, please your
majesty," said the Norseman Gunter, who was the King's chief huntsman,
"one of our fine white bears, that his liegemen may show their little
ones what sort of kittens we play with." "Well said, Gunter!" cried the
King; "but how shall we find a bear that will travel so long a journey
willingly, and will know how to behave himself to our worthy brother
when he reaches him?" "Please your majesty," said Gunter, "I have a
glorious fellow, as white as snow, that I caught when he was a cub; he
will follow me wherever I go, play with my children, stand on his hind
legs, and behave himself as well as any gentleman ought to do. He is at
your service, and I will myself take him wherever you choose."
So the King was well pleased, and ordered Gunter to set off at once with
master Bruin: "Start with the morning's dawn," said he, "and make the
best of your way."
The Norseman went home to his house in the forest; and early next
morning he waked master Bruin, put the King's collar round his neck, and
away they went over rocks and valleys, lakes and seas, the nearest road
to the court of the King of Denmark. When they arrived there, the King
was away on a journey, and Gunter and his fellow-traveler set out to
follow. It was bright weather, the sun shone, and the birds sang, as
they journeyed merrily on, day after day, over hill and over dale, till
they came within a day's journey of where the King was.
All that afternoon they traveled through a gloomy, dark forest; but
toward evening the wind began to whistle through the trees, and the
clouds began to gather and threaten a stormy night. The road, too, was
very rough, and it was not easy to tell which was more tired, Bruin or
his master. What made the matter worse was that they had found no inn
that day by the roadside, and their provisions had fallen short, so that
they had no very pleasant prospect before them for the night. "A pretty
affair this!" said Gunter. "I am likely to be charmingly off here in the
woods, with an empty stomach, a damp bed, and a bear for my bedfellow."
While the Norseman was turning this over in his mind, the wind blew
harder and harder, and the clouds grew darker and darker: the bear shook
his ears, and his master looked at his wits' end, when to his great joy
a woodman came whistling along out of the woods, by the side of his
horse dragging a load of fagots. As soon as he came up Gunter stopped
him, and begged hard for a night's lodging for himself and his
countryman.
The woodman seemed hearty and good-natured enough, and was quite ready
to find shelter for the huntsman; but as to the bear, he had never seen
such a beast before in his life, and would have nothing to do with him
on any terms. The huntsman begged hard for his friend, and told how he
was bringing him as a present to the King of Denmark; and how he was the
most good-natured, best-behaved animal in the world, though he must
allow that he was by no means one of the handsomest.
The woodman, however, was not to be moved. His wife, he was sure, would
not like such a guest, and who could say what he might take it into his
head to do? Besides, he should lose his dog and his cat, his ducks and
his geese; for they would all run away for fright, whether the bear was
disposed to be friends with them or not.
"Good night, master huntsman!" said he; "if you and old shaggy-back
there cannot part, I am afraid you must e'en stay where you are, though
you will have a sad night of it, no doubt." Then he cracked his whip,
whistled up his horse, and set off once more on his way homeward.