came to a rising ground from whence he thought he should perceive his
castle; but was greatly surprised to see it no longer. He felt in his
pockets and found that his snuff-box was not there.
When the king learned that the castle where his daughter was had
disappeared, he got into a great rage, and swore upon his kingly word
that, if his son-in-law did not bring the princess back before two
months had passed, he would have him torn in pieces by four horses.
The fisherman was very sad at having lost his wife and his castle; but
he thought that his brothers-in-law would be able to help him, and he
set out to go and see them. He first went to find the king of the
Fishes. On entering the palace, he embraced his sister, who was as
happy as a princess should be; then he related his misfortune to his
brother-in-law, and asked him if he had not heard of a castle hung from
the sky by four golden chains.
“No,” replied the king of the Fishes; “I have not heard of it: but
wait, I think I can tell you in a moment where it is.”
He plunged into the sea, and assembled all his subjects from the whale
to the flea-of-the-sea, and asked them if they had not seen a castle
hung from the clouds by four golden chains; but they all declared
that it was the first time they had heard of it. As the king finished
questioning them, he saw an old porpoise come up, who had stood many
shots and many storms.
“And you, porpoise,” asked the king of him, “have you not seen the
castle hung in the air by four golden chains?”
“No,” he answered, “I have not seen it; but as I was playing on the
waves, I met an eagle who told me of a castle hung by four golden
chains; a marriage was to be celebrated there in eight days, and so
many meats were taken there for the guests that the eagle told me he
had never seen so many before.”
The king of the Fishes thanked the old porpoise; then he came out of
the sea and went to tell his brother-in-law all he had learned. The
fisherman was very glad of it, and set out at once to go to see his
other brother-in-law, the king of the Birds.
When he reached his palace, he embraced his sister, then told his
adventures to the king of the Birds, and asked him if he had not heard
of a castle hung in the air by four golden chains. The king assembled
his subjects, and asked them if they had seen the castle. The eagle
answered,--
“Yes, I have seen it; it shines like gold, and a marriage is to be
celebrated there in seven days. It will be a grand wedding, for already
there are so many meats of all sorts that yesterday I could eat as much
of them as I wanted.”
“Could you,” asked the king, “carry a man as far as that?”
“Yes,” answered the eagle; “but first I must eat a great deal, for the
way will be long.”
During the whole night the eagle was supplied with meats, and he
feasted until the break of day. In the morning he took the fisherman
on his back, and flew away to go to the castle hung in the air by four
golden chains.
For several hours the eagle flew over a great sea, so vast that neither
shores nor islands were to be seen, nothing but the sky and the sea;
but his strength began to fail, and he put the fisherman down on a
rock that the tide had just exposed to view; then he went off at a
single flight for the castle of the four golden chains, so as to fill
his stomach again with meats, and be able to take the man upon his back
again.
The fisherman remained alone upon the rock, and the time seemed long
to him, for the eagle did not return, and he knew that the high tide
would cover the rock. Meanwhile the tide rose higher and higher, and in
vain he looked with all his eyes; he did not see the eagle returning.
He stood upon the highest point of the rock; soon the water reached him
there; it bathed his feet, then his knees; it rose to his waist, then
to his shoulders, and still he saw nothing coming. Just at the moment
when the waves reached his chin, the eagle appeared, and having taken
him on his back, he put him down in the court-yard of the castle, where
the wedding was to be celebrated the next day.
The fisherman’s wife was at her window; she recognized her husband,
and was very glad to see him, for she loved him very much, and it was
against her will that she had been taken away. She found an opportunity
to speak to him secretly, and said to him,--
“The lord who carried me away never leaves the magic snuff-box, and
every evening when he goes to bed, he puts it under his pillow, so it
is difficult to take it without waking him. The eagle must go and find
the husband of your third sister, the one who commands the Rats and the
Mice, and tell him to order some of his subjects to come here. When the
lord is snoring, a little mouse will go and stuff his tail in his open
mouth; then he will cough, and while he is sitting up, you will be able
to secure the snuff-box.”
The eagle hastened to go to the country of the Rats and Mice, and
quickly returned, bringing on his back a little mouse, that looked
wise, as all mice do, and a big rat with a long tail.
The following night, as soon as the lord, who before going to bed had
put the magic snuff-box under his pillow, began to snore, the little
mouse stuffed her tail into his mouth; but it was not long enough to
reach to his throat, and without waking, the man squeezed it so tightly
that she thought he had chopped it off. She began to make a little
plaintive sound, and he loosened his teeth; then she ran to tell the
fisherman’s wife that she had not been able to succeed, because her
tail was too short. Then the lady ordered the big rat to try in his
turn; he took his aim so well that he stuffed his tail quite down the
lord’s throat. The latter wakened with a start, half strangled, and sat
up in bed, coughing and spitting as if he were ready to die.
Meanwhile the fisherman, who was hidden under the bed, had passed his
hand under the pillow and seized upon the snuff-box. He opened it
immediately and heard a small voice, which said,--
“Master, what do you wish for?”
“What do I wish for? I wish that my castle may be taken back again to
my father-in-law’s garden, to the place where it was before this rascal
stole my snuff-box from me.”
In a moment he felt that the castle was lifted and borne through the
air; he saw it cross over vast seas and through great forests in the
wink of an eye, and soon it stopped still in the king’s garden, in
front of the palace.
The king, who had just wakened, went to his window, and when he saw the
castle hung by four golden chains between heaven and earth, he rubbed
his eyes, thinking he was losing his sight; but he saw his son-in-law
and his daughter coming, and they embraced him and told him all that
had happened to them.
He was greatly rejoiced to see them again, and to punish him who had
carried off the snuff-box, he caused him to be torn in pieces by four
horses. There were great rejoicings in honor of the return of the
princess, and the fisherman lived happily with her. But he took care to
carry the magic snuff-box always with him.
PAUL SEBILLOT, “Contes Des Marins.”
THE TWO SOLDIERS
A LORRAINE STORY
Once upon a time there were two soldiers who were about sixty years
old. Being obliged to leave the service, they determined to return to
their country. As they were journeying along, they said one to the
other,--
“What are we going to do to get our living? We are too old to learn
a trade; if we beg our bread, we shall be told we are not too old to
work, and nothing will be given us.”
“Let us draw lots,” said one of them, “who will let his eyes be put
out, and we will go begging together.”
The other one thought it a good idea. The lot fell on the one who made
the proposition; his comrade put out his eyes, and, one leading the
other, they went from door to door begging their bread. A great deal
was given to them. But the blind man got but little good of it; his
companion kept all that was good for himself, and gave him only the
bones and crusts of hard bread.
“Alas!” said the unfortunate creature, “is it not enough to be blind?
Must I be so badly treated also?”
“If you complain again,” said the other, “I will leave you here.”
But the poor blind man could not help complaining. At last his
companion left him in a forest.
After having wandered all about, the blind man stopped at the foot of a
tree.
“What will become of me?” said he to himself, “night is coming, and the
wild beasts will devour me.”
He climbed up into a tree for safety. Towards eleven or twelve o’clock
four animals came to the same place,--the fox, the wild boar, the wolf,
and the roebuck.
“I know something,” said the fox; “but I will not tell it to any one.”
“I also know something,” said the wolf.
“And I also,” said the roebuck.
“Pshaw!” said the wild boar, “you, with your little horns, what do you
know?”
“Ah!” remarked the roebuck, “there is a great deal of wit in my little
brain and in my little horns.”
“Well,” said the wild boar, “let each one tell what he knows.”
The fox began,--
“There is a little river near here whose water will restore the sight
of the blind. I have had an eye put out several times in my life; I
bathed in that water, and I was healed.”
“I know that river too,” said the wolf; “I have known it longer than
you. The king’s daughter is very sick; she is promised in marriage to
the one who will cure her. To give her water of this river would be
quite sufficient to restore her health.”
The roebuck said in his turn,--
“The city of Lyons is in need of water, and they have promised fifteen
thousand francs to the one who shall be able to get a supply for it.
Now, if they would dig up the tree of liberty, they would find a
spring, and they would have an abundance of water.”
“I,” said the wild boar, “I know nothing.”
Thereupon the animals separated.
“Ah!” said the blind man to himself, “if I could only find that spring!”
He got down from the tree, and went groping through the country. At
last he came to the river. There he bathed his eyes, and he began to
see again; he bathed them again, and his sight was perfectly restored.
Then he went at once to the mayor of Lyons, and told him that if he
wanted water he had only to pull up the tree of liberty. Sure enough!
when the tree was dug up, they discovered a spring; and the city had as
much water as was necessary. The soldier received the promised fifteen
thousand francs, and went to see the king.
“Sire,” said he to him, “I have heard that your daughter is very sick;
and I have something that will cure her.”
And he told him of the water of the river. The king sent one of his
footmen immediately for some of the water. They made the princess drink
of it, they made her take baths of it, and she was cured.
The king said to the soldier,--
“Although you are a little old, you shall marry my daughter; or else,
if you prefer it, I will give you some money.”
The soldier preferred to marry the princess; he knew very well that
with the daughter he would have the money also. The marriage took place
without delay.
One day when the soldier was taking a walk in the garden, he saw a
man all in rags who was asking charity; he recognized at once his old
comrade.
“Were there not two of you begging formerly?” said he to him as he came
up to him. “Where is your companion?”
“He is dead,” answered the beggar.
“Tell the truth; you will not repent of it. What has become of him?”
“I abandoned him.”
“Why?”
“He was always complaining. It was always he who got the good pieces;
when we had bread, I gave him the crumbs, because he had no teeth, and
I ate the crusts; I gave him the meat, and kept the bones for myself.”
“It is a lie! you did just the opposite. Would you recognize your
companion?”
“I do not know.”
“Well, I am that companion.”
“But are you not the king?”
“Doubtless; but I am also your old comrade. Come in; I will tell you
all about it.”
When the beggar learned all that had happened to the blind man, he said
to him,--
“I would like to have the same luck. Take me therefore to that same
tree; perhaps the animals will come there again.”
“Willingly,” said the other; “I am willing to return you good for evil.”
He took the beggar to the tree; and the beggar climbed up into it.
About eleven or twelve o’clock, the four animals collected there again.
The fox said to the others,--
“What we said the other night was overheard; the king’s daughter is
cured, and the city of Lyons has water. Who, then, has revealed our
secrets?”
“It is not I,” said the wolf.
“Nor I,” said the roebuck.
“I am sure that it is the wild boar,” said the fox; “he had nothing to
say himself, and he went and told what the others said.”
“It is not true,” replied the wild boar.
“Take care!” said the fox; “we shall all three be against you.”
“I am not afraid of you,” said the wild boar, showing his teeth; “just
you meddle with me!”
Suddenly raising their eyes, they saw the beggar up in the tree.
“Oh! oh!” said they, “here is a man who is spying upon us.”
Immediately they set to work to root up the tree; then they seized upon
the man and devoured him.
EMMANUEL COSQUIN, “Contes Populaires Lorrains.”
THE THREE BROTHERS AND THE GIANT
A STORY OF PICARDY
A good woman had three children, all boys: the first was named Jean;
the second, Jeannot; and the third, Jeannois. These three children
passed for the sharpest in the canton, and the good woman was very
glad of it, as you may imagine. One fine day she went to the wood
with them to pick up some dead wood there, and make fagots of it for
the approaching winter. The children soon had enough of looking for
pieces of dead wood, and preferring to gather mulberries, nuts, and
dogberries, they left their mother and plunged into the coppice farther
and farther, until they did not hear the cries and calls of the good
woman, who after awhile, thinking they had returned to the village,
went back to her house.
Soon evening came on, and Jean, Jeannot, and Jeannois perceived with
terror that they were lost in the woods.
“What shall we do?” said Jean. “What shall we do?” said Jeannot. “What
shall we do?” added Jeannois.
They did not know what to do, and they began to hear the howling of the
foxes and wolves in the depth of the forest. At last Jean, the oldest,
had an inspiration. He climbed to the top of a great oak-tree which
grew near by, and turned in every direction so that he could observe
the neighborhood. He discovered a light which shone in the distance,
and having well observed the position of it, he came down from the oak
and walked with his brothers in the direction of the light.
After they had gone beyond the wood, they saw a palace before them, and
went and knocked at the door.
Tap! tap!
“Who is there at this hour?”
“We are three little children lost in the forest, and we want to pass
the night in this beautiful palace. Will you give us lodging here?”
A young woman half opened the door.
“Do you not know that this is the palace of the Giant of the Golden
Beard? He is out at this moment, but he will be back before long. If
you take my advice you will make haste and run away, for he might kill
you and eat you as he has done so many persons.”
“But, madam, we do not know which way to go this dark night. Hide us
safely somewhere, and to-morrow, at the break of day, we will go away
without the Giant’s suspecting anything of it.”
The woman was moved with pity, and let the children come into the
castle. She made them go down into the cellar, and gave them good cakes
to eat. Then, hearing the Giant’s step in the distance, she charged
the lost children to hide themselves well behind a big cask, and went
up-stairs as if nothing had happened.
The Giant of the Golden Beard had been on a long tramp and was dying of
thirst. He went down into the cellar to refresh himself, in spite of
his wife, who besought him to go to bed.
“I smell fresh meat here,” muttered the Giant as he came near the cask
behind which the children were cowering.
As he was very thirsty, he took out the bung, lifted the cask as if it
had been a straw and drank and drank through it. As he set the great
wine cask down on the ground he hurt little Jeannois, who could not
help uttering a cry.
“Ah! ah!” cried the Giant of the Golden Beard, “I was sure I smelt
fresh meat! It is good! it is good! I shall take you up-stairs and kill
you; I shall have an excellent breakfast to-morrow.”
He took the three unfortunate boys in one hand and brought them up into
the kitchen.
But the wife who had heard what the Giant had just said, had hastened
to hide his big knife, and her husband looked for it in vain: he could
not succeed in finding it.
“Very well! very well! You will lose nothing by waiting! Wife, put
these three children in my daughters’ room and give them a bed. I will
kill them to-morrow. The flesh will be fresher.”
The woman obeyed tremblingly, and every one went to bed.
“We are in a very bad place,” thought Jeannot. And he got down from his
bed to examine the Giant’s daughters, who were sleeping in the bed near
by.
The moon had risen, and Jeannot perceived that the young girls wore
a crown of gold on their heads, and that there were, as in their own
case, three of them.
“Suppose the Giant should get up and come to wring our necks during the
night,” thought Jeannot. “It is very possible, certainly. I am going to
take off the three crowns and put them on my head and my brothers’. The
Giant will perhaps be deceived.”
So he did what he had thought of, and went to bed again. He was just in
time. The Giant of the Golden Beard had drunk too much wine, and found
himself uncomfortable in his bed. To kill time, he determined to get up
and go and kill the three little boys whom chance had sent to him.
He went to the bed where the latter were pretending to be asleep and
took hold of Jean’s head.
“Idiot!” said he to himself, “I was about to kill my daughters. I have
mistaken the bed.” And he went to the other bed and wrung the necks of
his own children.
Then, satisfied with his work, he went to bed again.
Jean, Jeannot, and Jeannois dressed themselves hastily and escaped
through the window.
Imagine the anger and dismay of the Giant, when on waking the next
morning he saw what he had done during the night. He became more wicked
than before, and went about through the country killing the travelers,
murdering peasants, and setting at defiance the armies that the king
sent against him.
As for Jean, Jeannot, and Jeannois, not knowing which way to go, they
took at last a highway, which at the end of two days’ journey brought
them to the capital of the kingdom. They asked to speak to the king and
to tell him their adventures in the palace of the Giant of the Golden
Beard. The king appointed them to be pages from that day forth.
I told you that the Giant, made furious by the death of his children,
went about ravaging the kingdom. This went on for two or three years.
Many knights had gone forth to fight against him, and not one of them
had returned. The king also trembled in his palace, fearing that some
day this terrible man would take a fancy to come and attack him in his
city.
One day Jean, the oldest of the three pages, went to the king and asked
the hand of his eldest daughter, with the title of knight. The king
refused at first; then, on reflection, he said to the page,--
“I grant you what you desire, on condition that you show yourself
worthy of it. You have not forgotten that famous Giant of the Golden
Beard, who came near killing both yourself and your brothers. Very
well; bring me his golden beard, and I swear to you that I will make
you a knight and give you my daughter in marriage.”
Jean accepted these terms. The king wanted to give him arms like those
of the knights, but he refused them. He took the road his brothers and
he had taken before, and presented himself at the Giant’s castle. It
was broad daylight, and the page sounded the horn.
“What do you want?” asked the Man with the Golden Beard.
“I want to fight with you to-morrow morning. I have beaten all the
giants I have been able to encounter hitherto, and I want to beat you
as I have done all the others.”
“You are very young, handsome page; but no matter. Come into my castle,
and to-morrow we will fight.”
Jean did not wait to be persuaded, and entered the palace of the Giant
of the Golden Beard, who gave him an invitation to dine with him. The
page accepted, and while the Giant had his back turned, he poured out
for him a liquor which possessed the quality of causing sleep for
several days.
“Here is to your health!”
“Here is to your health!”
And the page and the Giant emptied their glasses with a single draught.
At the same moment the latter fell under the table and began to snore
so loud that the whole castle shook. Without losing time the young man
took the scissors which he had brought, and cut off the Giant’s golden
beard. Then he left the palace and set out for the capital, where he
arrived two days after.
The king was very much astonished; he had promised his daughter to the
page, and he bestowed her upon him, telling him he would dub him knight
later on. A short while after that, Jeannot came also to find the king.
“My lord the king,” said he, “I love your daughter, Marie, and I think
she loves me. Will you make me a knight and bestow her hand upon me?”
“But you have done nothing that I know of to merit such an honor.”
“I am ready to show myself worthy of it. Command, and I will obey you.”
The king reflected, and then said,--
“Well, you shall have what you ask me for, when you bring me the
Giant’s broadsword, that you will remember.”
Jeannot agreed, and set out for the Giant’s castle, wearing neither
arms nor shield.
He arrived there at the end of two days and sounded the horn.
“Ah! ah!” cried the Giant, “another one who wishes to rob me! Very
well; I will see to it.”
“I do not come for that purpose; but I have been told that you could
drink more wine than any one in the world, and I have come to compare
myself with you.”
“Is that really true?”
“Perfectly true! But I verily believe that I can beat you. I can drink
fifty casks of wine without being hurt by it.”
“We will see; we will see. Come into the castle. I am ready to have a
match with you. But who will begin first?”
“You, if you please.”
“Agreed.”
Jeannot went down in the Giant’s cellar, and the latter wishing to
drink as much as he possibly could, swallowed ever and ever so much
wine, so that soon he staggered and fell down dead-drunk. Jeannot took
his broadsword and carried it to the king, who was more astonished than
when Jean returned with the golden beard.
Jeannot married the princess Marie, but the king did not make him
knight at once.
There was only Jeannois left.
One day he came to the king, and said,--
“My lord the king, I love your youngest daughter; she loves me also,
and I come to ask you for her hand, and the title of knight.”
“All that is very well. But you must deserve it.”
“Command, and I will do whatever you order me to do.”
The king thought awhile, and at last he said,--
“Your brothers have taken the Giant’s beard and his broadsword. Could
you bring him to me in an iron cage?”
“I will try, my lord the king; farewell.”
Jeannois had a very large iron carriage made and went to the Giant’s
castle. When he got there he sounded the horn.
“What do you want? worm of the earth! dust of nothingness!”
“Let me into your castle, and I will tell you.”
“Ah! you are one of those pages who stole my beard and my broadsword. I
see what you want, and I am going to kill you.”
“One moment, if you please. Do not be in a hurry. I have just come
to find you in order to restore what they stole from you. The two pages
are alone in a distant castle, and I have brought my carriage so as to
carry us there more quickly.”
[Illustration: THE GIANT GOT INTO THE IRON CARRIAGE.]
The Giant allowed himself to be deceived again, and got into the iron
carriage, where he found himself imprisoned. And Jeannois returned
quickly to the court. The king was very glad, as he well might have
been, at having got rid of the robber, who was burned on an immense
pile built on the great square of the city. Jeannois married the
princess whom he loved, and the king made the three brothers knights
of his kingdom. During the feasts that were given, the mother of
Jean, Jeannot, and Jeannois came to the city, still searching for her
children. Imagine her happiness and that of her sons.
E. H. CARNOY, “Litterature Orale de la Picardie.”
THE FAIRY AND THE DAUGHTER OF THE EARTH
A STORY OF THE ISLE OF OUESSANT
Once upon a time,--a very long time ago,--perhaps the time when Saint
Pol came to us from Hibernia in a stone trough,--there was a young
girl sixteen or seventeen years old, with fair hair, blue eyes, and
cheeks as red as two apples, and her name was Mona Kerbile. She was so
beautiful that all who saw her stopped to admire her, and said to her
mother, old Jeanne Kerbile, a poor woman like myself,--