which was blue, something growing which shone like gold, and she knew
it must be the golden root for which she was seeking.
The enchanted boat sailed close to the foot of the mountain and
stopped, and the Princess knew she was to get out, but how was she to
reach the golden root which grew far up on the mountain?
The Princess stepped out of the boat on the rocks and sat down to
think what she could do, for to climb up the steep, smooth side of the
mountain was out of the question; if only she could fly she thought she
might reach it.
Just then she heard a swishing sound, and, looking up, she saw a big
eagle coming toward her with a broken leg.
The bird fell at her feet, and, as so many strange things had already
happened, the Princess did not feel afraid of the big creature, for
she felt sure that in some way he would help her.
“Oh, you poor hurt bird!” she said, tearing off a piece of her dress
to bind up its leg; then from a stream falling from the mountain she
brought in the hollow of her hand water for him to drink.
At night the Princess took off her cloak and covered the eagle, while
she huddled close to the mountain and behind a rock to keep the cold
from herself.
In the morning she was surprised to find the eagle had flown away, but
on the rocks was her cloak, and two feathers from the wings of the bird
lay beside it.
The Princess put on her cloak and took up one of the feathers, and to
her surprise the hand that held the feather flew up over her head.
She picked up the other feather with the other hand and up she was
carried, her cloak spreading out like a pair of wings.
With the feathers she guided herself until she alighted on the top of
the blue-peaked mountain.
She laid the feathers down and began to dig for the root which the
Prince had said was the only thing that could save him.
When she had enough of the golden root she again took the feathers, one
in each hand, and flew down to the water, where the enchanted boat,
which had sailed away when she left it, now stood waiting.
The feathers from the eagle she put carefully on the rocks, but the
bird was nowhere to be seen, and, knowing that it must have been a part
of the magic plan to help her, the Princess sailed away, feeling sure
the eagle was safe and his broken leg quite well.
When she reached the castle of the leopard-man he was on the steps to
meet her and without waiting to enter the castle he took the golden
root from her and tasted it.
The leopard body disappeared and there he stood before her, a tall,
handsome youth whom any maiden, even a princess, would fall in love
with.
The Princess told him her story and the Prince told her they would go
at once to her father and he would ask for her hand, for he had already
asked for her heart and found that it was his.
The enchanted boat took them back to the garden of the King, where
they found that the Queen, when she knew that her son had lost the
chance of becoming King when the Princess disappeared, had put the King
in a dungeon under the palace and she and her son had become the rulers
of the kingdom.
The Prince quickly undid all this mischief by setting the King free,
and when he found out how treacherous his Queen really was he sent her,
with her son, away from the palace and told them never to return or
they would both be put in prison.
He was a kind-hearted King and gave them gold to care for them the rest
of their days, and it did not take them long to leave the palace, you
may be sure, for already the wedding feast was being made ready for the
marriage of the Princess and her Prince.
The enchanted boat now was not needed, and that with the lake
disappeared, but when the Princess set out with her husband to go to
the castle she found that it was within her father’s kingdom that the
Prince had lived.
At the end of the castle garden where the Prince and the Princess live
is a long stone seat, and at one end grows a bush of golden flowers,
the like of which no one ever saw before, and at the other is the
figure of a big eagle made of gold and bronze, but only the Princess
and her husband know what these things mean.
[Illustration]
NICKO AND THE OGRE
Once upon a time there lived on the banks of a deep, wide river an ogre
who ate all the fish in the river, never letting the people who lived
in the town come near the river to fish.
And this was not all the ogre did. He would make such a noise when he
slept that all the children were frightened so they could not sleep at
night, and the people decided at last that something must be done.
One day a youth named Nicko said he would go to an old witch who lived
in the forest and ask her what could be done.
So to this witch the youth went. “There is only one way to get rid
of the ogre,” she told Nicko, “and that secret is known only to a
mermaid, who comes up from the river every night and sings to the ogre.”
Of course the ogre would see Nicko if he went to the mermaid when she
was singing, so he decided to have a suit made of green and silver that
would make him look like a huge fish and dive into the river, hoping in
that way to find the home of the mermaid and learn the secret she knew.
One night after the mermaid had finished her song to the ogre, Nicko
slipped from behind a rock where he was hidden, dressed in his
green-and-silver suit, and swam to the place he had seen the mermaid go
under the water.
Down, down he went, and just before he reached the bottom of the river
the mermaid turned around and saw him.
She had never seen such a beautiful big fish before and the silver
glistened and shone so in the moonlight that the mermaid was filled
with envy.
“Oh, beautiful fish, tell me where you got your shining coat! I must
have a dress like it at once,” she said, swimming along beside Nicko.
“I will tell you, beautiful mermaid, willingly, and I will bring you a
dress of wonderful brightness,” said Nicko, “if you will tell me how
the people who live in the river town can get rid of the ogre you sing
to every night.”
The mermaid no longer smiled when she heard this; her face looked sad
and unhappy.
“That can never be done; for the way to be rid of the ogre is beyond
my power, although I know the secret,” answered the mermaid; “but you
cannot help me.”
“Well, if I cannot help you, at least tell me how it could be brought
about that the river folk could be rid of their trouble.”
“A mortal must come to this river and live here,” said the mermaid.
“And he must marry me. Now you see how impossible it is for any one to
learn the rest of the secret, for who would marry a mermaid and live at
the bottom of the river?”
Nicko had fallen in love with the pretty mermaid at first sight, and
when he heard this he said: “Show me your home, pretty maid. Perhaps I
can help you, even if I am only a fish.”
To the very bottom of the river the mermaid took Nicko, and when they
stood on the white sand before her home of crystal Nicko said:
“Mermaid, I love you! Behold your mortal lover. Will you be my wife?”
As he spoke he threw off the green-and-silver costume he wore, and
there stood the mortal who had come to woo her.
The pretty little mermaid blushed and hung her head. “I did not know; I
could never have guessed you were a mortal,” she stammered.
“Of course you couldn’t,” said Nicko, almost forgetting why he was
there, he was so very much in love with the pretty creature. “Now where
shall I find your father?” he asked.
The little mermaid clapped her tiny hands, and from under the rock came
many little silver-colored fish, swimming all around her.
“Run quickly and tell the dolphin to find Father Neptune,” said the
mermaid.
Soon the water began to roll and tumble about, and Nicko saw swimming
toward them two sea-horses drawing a chariot in which stood a man
carrying in one hand a curious and big three-pronged fork.
“He is Father Neptune,” said the mermaid. “Ask him for me if you wish.”
“Well, young mortal, what do you wish here at the bottom of my river?”
asked Father Neptune.
At first Nicko did not know what to say, for Father Neptune was very
big and stern-looking; but when he saw the little mermaid swim up to
him and lean her head against his shoulder he took courage and spoke.
“I wish to marry your daughter,” he said, “and live at the bottom of
the river.”
Father Neptune began to smile. “The spell is broken for you, my dear,”
he said to the little mermaid, “and I am glad. I would have helped you
before this if I could, but it was not in my power.
“She is yours, mortal youth,” said Neptune. “I pronounce you man and
wife. And now we will see what can be done to get rid of that awful
ogre on the bank of the river. He has bothered me so much, I shall be
glad to have him gone.”
“Now we are married,” said the mermaid to Nicko, “I can tell you I
am not a mermaid at all, but a king’s daughter who was changed into
a mermaid to sing for the ogre because my father did not invite the
dreadful ogre to a feast at his palace one night.
“The ogre cast a spell over me which could be broken only when a mortal
should come to the bottom of the river and ask me to marry him, which
the ogre thought never could happen.
“Now it is my turn to have the ogre changed into another form, and if
Father Neptune will consent I will ask the old forest witch to change
him into a big rock in the middle of the river.”
“Very well, my dear,” said Father Neptune, “a big rock will be an
addition to my river, and when I run in here to rest my sea-horses will
have a place to play and my dolphins a place to sit.”
“Good-by, Father Neptune,” said the mermaid. “I shall no longer wear
this form after to-night, for when I touch the land I shall be a mortal
again.”
“I will take you to the shore,” said Father Neptune; “jump in, both of
you.” It took only a minute for the sea-horses to dash to the top of
the river, and another for them to bring the chariot to the bank of the
river near the forest.
Nicko jumped out and lifted the little mermaid to the ground, which she
no sooner touched than before him stood a beautiful young girl on two
dainty feet.
When he looked around Father Neptune was gone and the Princess (for we
must call her so now) said: “We must hurry to the witch and tell her
before sunrise, or the ogre will have another day in which to bother
the river-town people.”
When the old witch saw the Princess she began to laugh. “Ha-ha!” she
said. “Now the ogre will be in my power. Leave him to me, my dear. I
will change him into any shape you wish.”
The Princess told her she wished him changed into a huge rock to be
placed in the middle of the river.
“Come along, my pretties; you shall see it done,” said the old witch,
clapping her hands as she spoke.
Up from behind the cave jumped a big broomstick, and on it hopped the
witch and the Princess and Nicko, and off they flew to the place where
the ogre sat fishing by the river.
When they were near enough for the old witch to touch him with her
crooked cane she leaned over and tapped him on the head and said:
“In the middle of the river,
To dwell there forever,
A rock you shall be
So all folks may see.”
A peal of thunder that shook the woods around was heard, and then a
loud splash.
When the mist of the splashing water cleared Nicko and the Princess saw
a huge black rock in the middle of the river, and the next thing they
knew they were flying through the air with the old witch again.
“Here is your home, Princess,” said the witch at last. “They will be
waiting for you and your husband, for I sent word you had been rescued,
and a feast is being made in honor of your marriage.”
Before Nicko or his bride could thank the witch she was far above their
heads and flying away.
The King and the Queen were overjoyed to have their daughter again and
gave Nicko such a welcome that he quite forgot his home by the river
and never returned.
But this did not matter, as he was an orphan, but no one thought of him
as being the cause of the ogre’s disappearance. The people in the river
town knew the ogre had gone, and they cared not who brought it about.
Nicko and the Princess lived happily ever after, and one day became the
King and Queen in the country where they lived.
[Illustration]
THE GINGERBREAD ROCK
Once there lived near a forest a little boy named Hans and his sister,
whose name was Lisbeth.
Their parents had died when they were tiny and their uncle had taken
them because he thought they could do all the work and so save the
money he would have to pay for a servant.
But this uncle was a miser and gave Hans and Lisbeth very little to
eat, so very little that often they went to bed very hungry.
One night when they were more hungry than usual, for they had worked
hard all day, Hans whispered from his cot in one corner of the room:
“Lisbeth, let us get up and go into the woods. It is bright moonlight
and we may be able to find some berries. I am so hungry I cannot go to
sleep.”
So out of the house they went, making sure their uncle was sound
asleep, and soon they were running along the path through the woods.
Suddenly Hans stopped and drew Lisbeth back of a tree. “Look!” he said,
in a whisper, “there is smoke coming from the side of that great rock.”
Lisbeth looked and, sure enough, a tiny curling smoke was coming from a
little opening in the rock.
Very cautiously the children crept up to the rock and Hans stood on
tiptoe and sniffed at the smoke.
“It is a pipe,” he whispered into Lisbeth’s ear. “Some one is inside
the rock, smoking.”
“No one could live inside a rock,” said Lisbeth, creeping closer and
standing on a stone that she, too, might sniff at the curling smoke.
Lisbeth became curious when she discovered it was the smoke from a
pipe. “You could boost me, Hans,” she said, “and I could peep in and
see if some one is inside.”
Hans told her he did not think it was nice to peek, but Lisbeth told
him it was very different from peeking into a house, and so Hans
boosted her, for he was just as curious as his sister.
Lisbeth grasped the edge of the opening in the big rock with both her
little hands, when, to the surprise of both children, it crumbled and
Lisbeth lost her balance.
Over went both of them on the soft moss, and when they sat up Lisbeth
held something in both her little hands.
“It’s cake!” she said, with wide open eyes. “No; it is gingerbread!”
she corrected, as she tasted it.
And, sure enough, it was gingerbread; the rock, instead of being stone,
was all gingerbread.
Hans and Lisbeth forgot the smoke and their curiosity in the joy of
their discovery, and soon both of them were eating as fast as they
could big pieces of the Gingerbread Rock.
Hans and Lisbeth were not greedy children. So when they had satisfied
their hunger they ran off home without taking even a piece of the
gingerbread with them to eat the next day.
They were soon in bed and asleep, and if each had not told to the other
the same story the next morning they would have been sure they had
dreamed it all.
The next night they were hungry, as usual, and when the moon was well
up in the sky out they crept again and ran into the woods.
But this time there was no curling smoke to guide them, and they tried
several rocks before they found the gingerbread. For, strange to say,
the place they had broken away did not show at all and there were so
many rocks the children could not find it.
But at last Hans cried out with joy, “Here it is, Lisbeth!” and held up
a big piece of gingerbread he had broken off.
Lisbeth, in her hurry to get a piece, broke off much more than she
intended, and, to the surprise of both children, a big opening was
made, large enough for them to step through.
“Perhaps we may find out where the smoke came from,” said Lisbeth,
suddenly remembering the smoke they had seen the night before.
Eating as they went, both of them stepped inside the rock and walked
into a big room where, by the table, sat an old man asleep.
His glasses had tumbled off his nose and the pipe he had been smoking
was on the floor beside him, where it had tumbled. His lamp had gone
out and his paper had slipped from his hand.
Lisbeth and Hans looked at him and then at the gingerbread they held.
“It is his house,” said Hans.
“And we are eating it up! What shall we do?” asked Lisbeth, looking
very much frightened.
“Better wake him up and tell him,” said Hans, “and perhaps he will let
us bake some more and mend the place we have broken.”
“I’ll pick up his paper and pipe and brush up the ashes,” said tidy
little Lisbeth, “and you light his lamp, and perhaps he will forgive us
when we tell him we did not know it was his house we were eating.”
But instead of being cross when he awoke, the old man smiled at them
and asked, “Did you eat all you wanted of the gingerbread?”
Hans told him they were very sorry and that they did not know any one
lived inside when they ate the gingerbread.
“We will bake you some more and patch the place we made,” said Lisbeth.
“Right through that door you will find the kitchen,” said the old man.
“Run along, if you like, and bake it.”
And such a kitchen as Hans and Lisbeth found, for Hans went along, you
may be sure, to fix the fire for his sister!
The shelves and cupboards were filled with flour and butter and eggs
and milk and cream and meat and pies, cookies, puddings, but no
gingerbread.
“We will get breakfast first for the man,” said Lisbeth, “for I am sure
he must be hungry and it is growing light. Look out the window.”
To Hans’s surprise there was a window. Then he saw a door, and when he
looked out he found they were in a pretty white house with green blinds
and not a rock, as he had supposed.
Hans and Lisbeth became so interested in cooking they quite forgot
their own home or the unkind uncle who almost starved them, and when
the breakfast was ready they put it on the table beside the old man.
“I thought you would like your breakfast,” explained Lisbeth, “and now
we will make the gingerbread and repair your house.”
“After breakfast you may, if you like,” said the old man, “but first
both of you must eat with me.”
My, how Hans and Lisbeth did eat, for while Lisbeth had cooked only
ham and eggs enough for the old man’s breakfast, there seemed to be
quite enough for them all.
And while they are eating we will see what the miser uncle was doing,
for he had called the children at break of day and they were not to be
found.
It happened that the ground was damp and the uncle saw the prints of
their feet from the door to the road and along the road to the path in
the woods, and then the soft leaves and moss did not show where they
went.
Thinking they had run away and gone into the woods, their uncle hurried
along, calling their names at the top of his voice.
As he came near the Gingerbread Rock the children heard him and began
to tremble. “It is uncle,” said Hans. “He will be very angry because we
have not done our work.”
“Sit still,” said the old man as the children started to leave the
table, and, taking his pipe, the old man sat down under a little
opening like a tiny window and began to smoke.
Soon the children could hear their uncle climbing up outside, and they
knew he had seen the smoke just as they had the night before, and was
trying to look in.
Then they heard him tumble just as Lisbeth had when the Gingerbread
Rock broke off in her hands, and they knew he had discovered it was
good to eat, for all was still for a few minutes.
Nothing was heard again for a long time, and then the sound of some one
breaking off big pieces was heard, and when Hans and Lisbeth climbed
up, as the old man told them to do, and looked out of the opening they
saw their uncle with a shovel and a wheelbarrow.
He was breaking off big pieces of gingerbread and filling the barrow as
fast as he could.
But when he had filled it he could not move it, for it was no longer
gingerbread, but stone he had to carry.
The old man motioned to the children to keep quiet, and he opened a
door they had not noticed and went out.
Just what he said the children never knew. But they soon found out that
instead of being poor, as they had thought, their miser uncle had taken
all the silver and gold their parents had left and hidden it in his
cellar under the stones.
The miser uncle disappeared and was never seen again, and the old man,
who was really a wizard, told them where to go and what to do with
their wealth. So they were happy ever after.
Of course, they never forgot the Gingerbread Rock or the kind old man.
But because he was a wizard they knew they would never see him again,
for fairies and witches and wizards are all enchanted and disappear in
a very strange manner.
“Our good fortune came to us because we tried to be kind to the old
man, I am sure,” said Hans one day, when they were talking about the
Gingerbread Rock.
“Yes, and because we wanted to repair the damage we had done he knew
we did not mean to do any harm,” said Lisbeth; “but I shall never eat
gingerbread again without thinking of him.”
“Nor I,” said Hans.
[Illustration]
PRINCE ROUL’S BRIDE
Once upon a time in a far-off land there lived by an ocean an ogre and
his wife.
Their home was a cave in a big white rock which was so white it shone
like a light even in the darkest night, and many a ship had thought it
a harbor in a storm and been wrecked by the shore where the ogre lived.
And this was the way he lived, because the ships carried rich cargoes
and the ogre lost no time in helping himself to all that he could find,
while the sailors were glad to escape in lifeboats when they saw the
dreadful-looking ogre, who was so big and strong he could lift a ship.
In the same country, miles and miles away from the ogre’s cave, lived
a rich king, who had a son named Roul, and one day while the Prince
was out hunting he passed in the woods a cabin where lived a poor girl
named Leta.
But while Leta was very poor she was also very pretty, and as the
Prince rode past he saw her at the window and raised his plumed hat and
smiled.
The next day Prince Roul again rode to the woods and this time he did
not pass Leta’s cabin. He stopped his horse in front of her door and
asked for a drink of water.
He had thought Leta pretty through the window, but when he beheld her
this time he completely lost his heart, and day after day he went to
the cottage and talked to pretty Leta.
After a while the King told his son it was time he was looking for a
wife, as he wanted to see him married before he died and know that his
wife was worthy to be a queen.
So the King gave a feast which lasted for weeks, and princesses from
far and near were asked that Prince Roul might choose for himself a
wife, for, as I said before, the King was very rich and all the kings
in the other countries were anxious, of course, to have Prince Roul for
a son-in-law.
But Prince Roul did not choose a wife from among the beautiful
princesses, for he was already in love with pretty Leta, and while
he knew full well his father would never give his consent to their
marriage, he was determined he would wed no one else.
On the last day of the feast the King told him he would have to choose.
“You have before you the beautiful women of the land,” said the King.
“Make your choice at once, and the wedding shall take place this night.”
“Father, you have not brought to me the most beautiful woman in the
world,” replied Prince Roul. “If you had I should have asked her to be
my wife before this.”
“What do you mean?” asked the King. “All the princesses in the land are
here.”
“Ah yes, that is true,” replied the Prince, “but the most beautiful
woman in the world is not a princess, as you think of them, but she is
a Princess for all that. Father, she is the Princess of my heart and I
cannot marry any other woman.”
Then the King made the Prince tell him who she was that he loved so
dearly, and when he learned Leta was a poor girl who lived in the woods
close by, he was very angry and told the Prince he should never wed
her.
All the beautiful princesses were sent home, and the angry King called
his servants to him and commanded that they should go to the woods and
find this girl who had upset his plans for his son.
“Find her and chase her out of the woods; drive her into another land
where the Prince will never find her,” he told them.
But the King had forgotten one very important thing, and that was his
son, for he should have made him a prisoner before he gave such an
order. This he did not do, and Prince Roul, who overheard what his
father had said, lost no time in jumping on his horse and making his
way to the woods ahead of the servants of the King.
“Jump up behind me,” he said to Leta when she came out of the cabin,
and away they rode, the feet of Prince Roul’s horse scarcely touching
the ground as they fled.