with me.”
The latter came also in her turn, and the prince asked of her, as of
the other two, “Do you remember what you said yesterday evening, by the
fireside, in your father’s house?”
“I remember, sire,” she replied.
“And you would be willing to marry me?”
“Yes, with all my heart.”
“And you would have three children, as you said, two boys, each with a
gold star on his forehead, and a daughter with a silver star?”
“Yes, as truly as I have said it, sire.”
“Very well; then you shall be my wife. Now go home and tell your father
to come and talk with me.”
The young girl went home, very happy, and told her father to go to the
palace and talk with the king’s son.
“Why?” asked the old man; “I told you so; your foolish talk has come to
the prince’s ears, and now he has doubtless sent for me to punish me.”
“No, no, my father; go and fear nothing,” said his daughter.
The old baker went to the palace, sad and sighing, as if he were going
to his death. But when he heard the son of the king ask his three
daughters in marriage, one for his gardener, one for his waiting-man,
and the third for himself, he was as joyful and happy as before he had
been anxious and afraid.
The three weddings were celebrated at once, and for a whole month there
were feasts every day, dances, and all sorts of amusements.
The gardener and the waiting-man went to live in the city with their
wives, and the young prince remained with his, in his father’s palace.
The other two were jealous of the youngest sister because she was
a princess, and they tried every day to find some means to destroy
her. At last they consulted an old fairy. She told them that when the
princess’ baby was born they must bribe the old nurse to put a little
dog in the cradle instead of the baby and send the baby out on the
river. Then they recommended a nurse to their sister, who, they said,
was the best in the kingdom. The princess asked to see her and welcomed
her kindly. The baby that was born was a magnificent child, with a gold
star in the middle of his forehead. The nurse gave the poor little
creature to a man who was waiting at the door, to take it and leave it
on the shore of the Seine, which they tell me flows by Paris. Then she
put in his place in the cradle, a little dog that she had brought with
her. When the prince asked to see his child they showed him the little
dog.
“Ah! ah! what is this that you are showing me?” he cried.
“Alas! my prince,” replied the perfidious nurse, “God does all as it
pleases Him!”
“Ah! misery for me! But it is useless to complain, since it is the will
of God. Take care always of this poor creature.”
The husband of the baker’s oldest daughter, the king’s gardener, had a
beautiful garden on the shore of the river, and as he was walking in
it one day, he saw a basket which was floating on the water. He jumped
into his boat, caught the basket, and was very much astonished to find
in it a beautiful child with a gold star in the middle of his forehead.
“God be praised,” said he, “who sends me such a lovely child, for I
have none of my own.” And he carried it to his wife, who received it
with great joy, and took as much pleasure in caring for it as if it had
been her own child.
A year after, a second son was born to the princess, having also a gold
star in his forehead like the first. The perfidious nurse substituted a
little dog for him also, and the poor baby was put out on the water in
a basket as his brother had been.
The king (the prince had become king, his father having died) asked to
see the new-born son.
“Alas! another dog!” cried he, as soon as he saw it, and he turned away
his head and wept. “But since it is the will of God,” he added, “what
God does is well done.”
The gardener, who was fishing with hook and line in his garden, saw a
basket floating down the river. He caught it and hastened to carry to
his wife the beautiful child he found in it. The latter received it
joyfully, saying,--
“How delightful! Now we each have one, my husband and I!”
They chose a godfather and godmother, and the child was baptized.
A third child was born to the princess, and this time it was a little
girl, with a silver star in the middle of her forehead. The perfidious
nurse put a little dog in her place, too, and the poor thing was
exposed as her brothers had been. This time the king began to swear and
storm like one beside himself, when they showed him another little dog.
“They will call me,” said he, “the father of dogs! and not without
reason. But all this does not come from God; there is some mystery at
the bottom of it.” And he had the queen shut up in a tower, with only
bread and water for food, and a little book to read.
The gardener found another child floating on the water, and picked it
up and carried it home, as he had done the others.
“Enough children like that,” said his wife, seeing him come in with the
basket. “How is it that you find so many children?”
“Very well, wife, do not worry; be quiet. I will carry the child back
where I found it on the water; but it is a great pity; such a pretty
little girl!”
“It is a girl, do you say? Show her to me. Oh! the pretty little
angel, with a silver star in the middle of her forehead. We will keep
her, husband; we have sufficient means, and since God has given us no
children of our own, we will take these instead.”
Meanwhile the poor queen was in her tower, weeping and moaning night
and day, and no one came to see her. Her two sisters were happy with
their husbands.
By and by the gardener and his wife died. The king had their three
children brought to his palace, and as they were handsome children, and
well brought up, they pleased him very much. Every Sunday they were
seen in his pew at church,--at high mass,--having each a bandage round
his forehead to hide his star. Every one was astonished to see these
bandages, and asked, “What does it mean?”
One day, when the king was out hunting, an old woman came to the
kitchen of the palace, and said, “Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! how cold I am!” And
she trembled and her teeth chattered.
“Come near the fire, grandmother,” said the young girl with the silver
star, who happened to be there.
“Blessings on you, my child. Ah! how beautiful you are! Ah! if you had
the dancing water, the singing apple, and the bird of truth, you would
not have your equal on the earth!”
“Yes, grandmother; but how can I get these marvelous things?”
“You have two brothers here who can get them for you.”
Then she went away without saying anything more.
From that moment the young girl could think of nothing but the words
of the old woman; she dreamed only of the dancing water, the singing
apple, and the bird of truth, and she was very sad.
“Why are you so sad?” asked her brothers.
“There is nothing the matter,” she replied.
“Yes, there is something the matter, and you must tell us what it is.”
“An old woman came to warm herself in the kitchen, and she said to me,
‘My child, if you had the dancing water, the singing apple, and the
bird of truth, you would not have your equal on the earth!’ And since
then I am always dreaming of the dancing water, the singing apple, and
the bird of truth. But how can I ever procure such marvelous things?”
“My little sister, I will find them for you if they are anywhere on
this earth,” said the elder brother.
“How can you do it, my poor brother?”
“Leave it to me, and do not be worried. See! here is a dagger, which
I give you; draw it from the scabbard several times a day for a whole
year and a day; as long as you can draw it out, no harm will have
happened to me; but when you cannot pull it out, alas! I shall be dead!”
Then he bade farewell to his sister and brother, and departed.
His sister often drew the dagger-blade from the scabbard, and it came
out easily. But alas! one day she could not draw it out, although she
tried her best. Then she began to cry.
“What is the matter, my dear little sister?” said her younger brother.
“Alas! poor brother, our older brother is dead!” And they both began to
cry.
“I must go and look for him.”
“Oh, no! do not go, my brother; stay here with me.”
“No, I must go, and I never will stop walking till I have found
my brother. Here! I give you this necklace; slip the beads around
constantly; when you come to one that will not move, then I also shall
be dead.” Then he said good-by to his sister and went away.
She, left all alone, was very sad and full of care. She constantly
slipped the beads on her necklace around and she saw with pleasure that
they moved easily. But alas! one day there was one that would not move.
“My God!” she cried, “my second brother is dead, also! What shall I do
now? I must go and seek for them, and I will never stop traveling until
I have found them, dead or alive.”
She bought a horse, dressed herself as a cavalier, and set out, without
saying anything to any one. She continued to go on and on till she
reached a great plain.
There she saw in an old hollow tree a little old man with a long white
beard.
“Good morning, daughter of the king of France!” said the little old man
with the white beard.
“Good morning, grandfather; but you surely take me for some one else,
for I am not the daughter of the king of France.”
“No, no, I am not mistaken, for I know you well.”
“But, grandfather, is not that long beard very much in your way?”
“It is, indeed, my child; I have worn it for five hundred years, and it
has been very much in my way, I assure you.”
“If you wish it, I will cut it off.”
“Oh, yes, do!”
She took her scissors out of her pocket and cut off the old man’s beard.
“My blessing on you, daughter of the king of France,” said he, “for
you have delivered me! A great many people have passed by here, during
these five hundred years, and no one has had pity on me but you, and
you shall never have reason to regret it. I know where you are going;
you are going to look for your two brothers. Listen to me well, and do
exactly what I tell you. Sixty miles from here you will find an inn by
the roadside. Alight there, eat, drink, and then leave your horse there
and say you will pay when you return. Soon after you leave this house,
you will come to a high mountain. You will have much difficulty in
climbing this mountain, and it will even be necessary sometimes to get
down on your hands and feet. A tremendous wind will soon rise; hail,
snow, ice, and a bitter cold will assail you; but take care and do not
lose courage, and continue to climb up as before. On each side of the
way you will see a great number of stone pillars. These are so many
persons, who, like you, have attempted to climb this mountain, but have
lost courage, and have been changed into pillars of stone. When you
reach the top, you will see a plain with a turf dotted with flowers,
as if in the month of May. Then you will see a golden seat under an
apple-tree. Sit down on this seat and pretend to be asleep, and you
will see a blackbird hop down the apple-tree from branch to branch, and
go into a cage which is under the tree. Then shut the cage quickly,
for it is the Bird of Truth. Then cut a branch of the apple-tree with
an apple on it; that will be the Singing Apple. And finally, draw a
phial full of water from the fountain under the tree, for that is the
fountain of the Dancing Water. Then you can come away. As you descend
the mountain, drop a drop of water from your phial on each pillar of
stone, and out of each pillar will rise a knight. Your two brothers
will rise also, like the others.”
The young girl thanked the little old man and continued her journey.
She did just exactly what she had been told. She ate and drank at the
inn, left her horse there, and began to climb the mountain. But the
cold became so intense that her limbs were almost frozen, and she came
near stopping and being changed to stone like the others. However, at
last she reached the top of the mountain. There the sky was clear,
and the air mild, as in the middle of summer. She seated herself on
the golden seat, under the apple-tree, and pretended to be asleep.
The blackbird hopped down the tree, from branch to branch, and went
into the cage. Then she got up at once and shut the cage; and the
blackbird, seeing himself caught, said,--
“You have caught me, daughter of the king of France! Many others,
before you, have tried to catch me, but none have succeeded. But you
have been guided by some one.”
Then she cut a branch of the apple-tree with an apple on it, filled
her phial with water from the fountain, and departed. As she went down
the mountain, she dropped a drop of water on each pillar of stone, and
out of them came princes, dukes, barons, and knights; her two brothers
arose also, the last two; but they did not recognize their sister; and
all crowded around her, some saying, “Give me the Dancing Water, young
knight”; and others,--“Give me the Singing Apple”; and others,--“Give
me the Bird of Truth.”
But she went quickly away, taking with her the water, the apple, and
the bird. As she passed the inn where she had left her horse, she paid
her reckoning, then turned quickly homeward and arrived there a long
time before her brothers. When the latter arrived, they embraced their
sister.
“Ah! my poor brothers,” said she to them, “how anxious I have been
about you. How long your journey has been! But God be praised, since I
have you back again!”
“Alas! yes, my poor sister, we were gone a long time, and we have done
no good by it; it is only by chance that we returned at all.”
“Why, have you not brought me the Dancing Water, the Singing Apple, and
the Bird of Truth?”
“Alas! no, poor sister; a young knight whom we did not know took them
away. Ah! what a handsome knight! We wish you could have seen him.”
The old king, who had no children (as he thought) loved his
sister-in-law’s children, and was glad to see them back again. He
ordered a great feast, to which he invited many people, princes, dukes,
marquises, barons, and generals. When the supper was nearly over the
young girl placed on the table the Dancing Water, the Singing Apple,
and the Bird of Truth, and told each of them to do his duty. And
immediately the water began to dance, the apple to sing, and the bird
to fly over the table. And all the people, in ecstacy, mouths and eyes
open, looked and listened at these wonders. They had never seen nor
heard anything like it.
“Whose are these wonderful things?” asked the king, when he could speak.
“Mine, sire,” said the young girl.
“And what are they?”
“The Dancing Water, the Singing Apple, and the Bird of Truth.”
“And from whom did you get them?”
“I went, myself, to seek for them.”
Then the two brothers knew that it was their sister who had delivered
them. As for the king, he was almost beside himself with joy and
admiration.
“My crown and my kingdom,” he said, “for your wonderful things; and
you--you shall be queen.”
“Wait a moment, sire, till you have heard my bird speak; the Bird of
Truth, for he has important matters to reveal to you. Now, my little
bird, tell the truth.”
“I will indeed,” said the bird, “but let no one go out of the room.”
So they shut the doors. The wicked old nurse, and one of the king’s
sisters-in-law were there, and they were not at all comfortable when
they heard these words.
“Come, my bird, tell the truth now.” And this is what the bird said,--
“It is twenty years now, sire, since your wife was shut up in the
tower, abandoned by every one, and you have long believed her to be
dead. But she is not dead; no harm has happened to her, for she was
unjustly accused and cast into a dreary prison.”
Just here the nurse and the king’s sisters-in-law said they felt sick
and wanted to go out.
“No one shall go out yet,” said the king; “go on telling the truth,
little bird.”
“You have had two sons and a daughter, sire,” continued the bird,
“all three children of your wife, and here they are! Take off their
bandages, and you will see that each has a star in his forehead.”
The bandages were taken off, and they saw that each of the two young
men had a gold star on his forehead and the young girl had a silver
star.
“The authors of all this wickedness,” continued the bird, “are your two
sisters-in-law and the nurse, that sorceress of the devil. They made
you believe that your wife gave birth to dogs, and your poor children
were sent, as soon as they were born, to float on the waters of the
Seine. When the nurse learned that the children had been saved, and
were being brought up in your palace, she sought for other means of
destroying them. She went into the palace, one day, disguised as a
beggar, ready to die of cold and hunger, and inspired the princess with
a desire to possess the Dancing Water, the Singing Apple, and the Bird
of Truth. Her two brothers went, one after the other, to seek them for
her, and the sorceress knew very well that they would never return.
And they never would have returned, alas! if their sister had not
succeeded, after much trouble, in delivering them, and bringing away
the Dancing Water, the Singing Apple, and the Bird of Truth.”
The king fainted on hearing all this. When he came to himself, he went
himself to seek his queen in the tower, and returned to the festive
hall, leading her by the hand. She had not changed at all; she was
beautiful and gracious as ever. She ate and drank a little, then died
suddenly in her chair. The king, wild with grief and anger, ordered
that a furnace should be heated immediately and his sisters-in-law and
the old nurse thrown into it. It was done.
I do not know anything more of the princess and her two brothers. I
think they were all happily married. And as for the bird, it is not
told whether he continued always to tell the truth, but I presume that
he did, as he was not a man.
Told by Barbe Tassel, written down and translated into French by F. M.
Luzel. Plouaret, December, 1858.
YOU MUST NOT WORK ON SUNDAY
A STORY OF THE DISTRICT OF AMIENS
There was once upon a time a woodcutter and his wife who had an invalid
daughter; they had made all the pilgrimages in the neighborhood in
vain, and had become entirely discouraged. But it happened one evening
that Mathias (that was the woodcutter’s name), being belated in the
forest, came upon a noisy company of dwarfs, who insisted upon his
dancing with them. The dwarfs were singing,--
“The day is for working,
The day is for working;”
and they did not know how to sing anything else. Mathias said to
them,--“Your song has but little variety; it would be well to add
something to it.” “Add! add!” cried the dwarfs. And when they began to
sing again,--
“The day is for working,”
the woodcutter added,--
“And the night is for resting.”
Then there was a great commotion; a little old man, mounted on a colt,
appeared in the midst of the assembly; when silence was re-established
he addressed these words to the woodcutter,--
“You shall be rewarded for having added something to our song; I will
give you the choice between riches for yourself, and beauty, with
health, for your daughter.”
Mathias did not hesitate; he preferred the happiness of his child to
riches; and when he returned to his house, he found that she was in
good health and had become marvelously beautiful. This adventure caused
much stir in the country, and the baker’s wife, who had also an invalid
daughter, after having heard from the woodcutter, in detail, all that
had happened to him, resolved to go and find the dwarfs in the forest.
The latter seized her quickly by the petticoats and dragged her round
and round in their circle. After awhile, the dwarfs, seeing her out of
breath, gave her a moment to recover.
“It is my opinion, my joyous companions,” said she to them, “that your
song is too short.”
“Cheerly, woman, cheerly! Round we go!” shouted the dwarfs as they
again began their dance, singing,--
“The day is for working,
And the night is for resting.”
The baker’s wife added,--
“All the whole year long.”
She was going to go on, but moved her lips in vain; she could not speak
another word. At this moment, the ground opened, and out of the opening
came a young girl mounted on a goat.
“Choose,” said she, “between riches for yourself, and beauty, with
health, for your daughter.”
The baker’s wife was very avaricious; she chose riches, and when she
returned to her house she found her daughter dying. She became envious
of the happiness of the woodcutter, and as he owed her some money, she
threatened to sell his hut and all that he possessed.
In order to pay their debts, the woodcutter, his wife, and daughter,
went to work earnestly together in the forest. While Mathias cut the
wood, his wife and daughter made fagots of the twigs.
One Sunday our woodcutter left his wife and daughter at home and went
to work in the wood; but he was so overcome by fatigue that he fell
asleep; when he awoke he found himself surrounded by the company of
dwarfs who were singing,--
“The day is for working,
And the night is for resting.
All the whole year long.”
Mathias, who had been forced against his will to join in the dance,
cried out for spite,--
“Save Sunday alone,
Which God kept for his own.”
[Illustration: EACH DWARF THEN CAME AND PLACED A LARGE SACK AT MATHIAS’
FEET.]
At this moment the forest became illuminated; the little old man on the
colt appeared, followed by an immense crowd of dwarfs, and said to the
woodcutter, “By finishing our couplet you have broken the charm which
forced us to impose such hard tests on mankind; for your reward we give
you all our riches.” Each dwarf then came and placed a large sack at
Mathias’ feet. He gathered up as many of them as he could and returned
triumphantly to his house. But when he opened them he saw that they
contained only dry leaves!
“The dwarfs have mocked thee,” said his wife; “I shall sprinkle the
sacks with holy water, for one must purify what comes from the evil
one.”
No sooner said than done; but what was her astonishment to see the dry
leaves change into bright gold crowns!
The baker’s wife was paid immediately; she died of vexation a few days
after; the woodcutter and his wife lived ever after rich and happy.
Told in the Picard dialect by Fernand Delaunoy, aged 51 years, at
Warloy-Baillon (Somme).
HENRI CARNOY.
DESTINY
There was once a rich woman whose son was born when the moon was hung
(suspended from a cloud by one horn). As the child grew, the mother,
who knew he would be hung as soon as he was eighteen years old, became
sadder day by day, and could not look at him without sighing and
shedding tears. Seeing this, he wished to know the cause, and one day
he asked her,--
“Why do you weep so much, mother?”
“Never mind, my child; do not trouble yourself about it.”
But he insisted so much, that at last his mother said to him,--
“Alas! my poor child, you were born under a very unfortunate star.
A monk told me, the moment you came into the world, that you would
be hung at the age of eighteen because the moon was hung at the same
moment.”
“Pshaw! mother,” replied the child; “do not believe that; and,” he
added, “I will leave the country; I will go far away, and if it is the
will of God that what the monk told you should happen to me, at least
you will not have to blush for me.”
So he left his country and went far, far away. He came to a beautiful
castle and asked if they needed a servant there. He was taken as
assistant gardener. Day and night he prayed to God to avert his evil
fate. As he was a handsome young fellow, the young lady of the castle,
who saw him as she was walking in the garden, fell in love with him.
She passed most of her time in the garden, watching him work and
talking with him. At last she made known her feelings to him.
“I do not deserve such honor, my lady,” said the young man; “and
moreover, for another reason this cannot be. If you knew how sad my
destiny is!”
Then he told the young lady the monk’s prediction. But she only laughed
at it. Her love increased every day. She decided at last to tell her
father about it. The old lord got very angry. “What,” said he, “do you
wish to dishonor me? Marry a gardener, an adventurer? No one knows
where he comes from, or who he is!”
But the young lady was so persistent, that the old lord, who had no
child but her, and who could refuse her nothing, finally yielded, and
there was a grand wedding, with holidays, plays, and rejoicings of
every sort.