The Princess summons the Twelve Young Men
Schurka upsets the Baker
The Mouse steals the Ring from the Princess
The King catches the White Duck
The Partnership
At Home in the Church
Protestation
The Way of the World
And then her Dress
The Emperor comes to see his New Clothes
Let down, let down thy Petticoat
The Fisherman brings the Crab on the Golden Cushion
Then She reached the three Cutting Swords
The Dragon carries off the Three Soldiers
The Fiend defeated
The Maiden obtains the Bird-Heart
The Hunter is transformed into a Donkey
The Young Man gives the Donkeys to the Miller
*THE MAGIC RING*
Once upon a time there lived an old couple who had one son called
Martin. Now when the old man's time had come, he stretched himself out
on his bed and died. Though all his life long he had toiled and moiled,
he only left his widow and son two hundred florins. The old woman
determined to put by the money for a rainy day; but alas! the rainy day
was close at hand, for their meal was all consumed, and who is prepared
to face starvation with two hundred florins at their disposal? So the
old woman counted out a hundred of her florins, and giving them to
Martin told him to go into the town and lay in a store of meal for a
year.
So Martin started off for the town. When he reached the meat-market he
found the whole place in turmoil, and a great noise of angry voices and
barking of dogs. Mixing in the crowd, he noticed a stag-hound which the
butchers had caught and tied to a post, and which was being flogged in a
merciless manner. Overcome with pity, Martin spoke to the butchers,
saying:
'Friends, why are you beating the poor dog so cruelly?'
'We have every right to beat him,' they replied; 'he has just devoured a
newly-killed pig.'
'Leave off beating him,' said Martin, 'and sell him to me instead.'
'If you choose to buy him,' answered the butchers derisively; 'but for
such a treasure we won't take a penny less than a hundred florins.'
'A hundred!' exclaimed Martin. 'Well, so be it, if you will not take
less'; and, taking the money out of his pocket, he handed it over in
exchange for the dog, whose name was Schurka.
When Martin got home, his mother met him with the question:
'Well, what have you bought?
'Schurka, the dog,' replied Martin, pointing to his new possession.
Whereupon his mother became very angry, and abused him roundly. He ought
to be ashamed of himself, when there was scarcely a handful of meal in
the house, to have spent the money on a useless brute like that. On the
following day she sent him back to the town, saying, 'Here, take our
last hundred florins, and buy provisions with them. I have just emptied
the last grains of meal out of the chest, and baked a bannock; but it
won't last over to-morrow.'
Just as Martin was entering the town he met a rough-looking peasant who
was dragging a cat after him by a string which was fastened round the
poor beast's neck.
'Stop,' cried Martin; 'where are you dragging that poor cat?'
'I mean to drown him,' was the answer.
'What harm has the poor beast done?' said Martin.
'It has just killed a goose,' replied the peasant.
'Don't drown him, sell him to me instead,' begged Martin.
'Not for a hundred florins,' was the answer.
'Surely for a hundred florins you'll sell it?' said Martin, 'See! here
is the money'; and, so saying, he handed him the hundred florins, which
the peasant pocketed, and Martin took possession of the cat, which was
called Waska.
When he reached his home his mother greeted him with the question:
'Well, what have you brought back?'
'I have brought this cat, Waska,' answered Martin.
'And what besides?'
'I had no money over to buy anything else with,' replied Martin.
'You useless ne'er-do-weel!' exclaimed his mother in a great passion.
'Leave the house at once, and go and beg your bread among strangers';
and as Martin did not dare contradict her, he called Schurka and Waska
and started off with them to the nearest village in search of work. On
the way he met a rich peasant who asked him where he was going.
'I want to get work as a day labourer,' he answered.
'Come along with me, then. But I must tell you I engage my labourers
without wages. If you serve me faithfully for a year, I promise you it
shall be for your advantage.'
So Martin consented, and for a year he worked diligently, and served his
master faithfully, not sparing himself in any way. When the day of
reckoning had come the peasant led him into a barn, and pointing to two
full sacks, said: 'Take whichever of these you choose.'
Martin examined the contents of the sacks, and seeing that one was full
of silver and the other of sand, he said to himself:
'There must be some trick about this; I had better take the sand.' And
throwing the sack over his shoulders he started out into the world, in
search of fresh work. On and on he walked, and at last he reached a
great gloomy wood. In the middle of the wood he came upon a meadow,
where a fire was burning, and in the midst of the fire, surrounded by
flames, was a lovely damsel, more beautiful than anything that Martin
had ever seen, and when she saw him she called to him:
'Martin, if you would win happiness, save my life. Extinguish the
flames with the sand that you earned in payment of your faithful
service.'
'Truly,' thought Martin to himself, 'it would be more sensible to save a
fellow-being's life with this sand than to drag it about on one's back,
seeing what a weight it is.' And forthwith he lowered the sack from his
shoulders and emptied its contents on the flames, and instantly the fire
was extinguished; but at the same moment lo! and behold the lovely
damsel turned into a Serpent, and, darting upon him, coiled itself round
his neck, and whispered lovingly in his ear:
'Do not be afraid of me, Martin; I love you, and will go with you
through the world. But first you must follow me boldly into my Father's
Kingdom, underneath the earth; and when we get there, remember this--he
will offer you gold and silver, and dazzling gems, but do not touch
them. Ask him, instead, for the ring which he wears on his little
finger, for in that ring lies a magic power; you have only to throw it
from one hand to the other, and at once twelve young men will appear,
who will do your bidding, no matter how difficult, in a single night.'
[Illustration: Martin extinguishes the flames.]
So they started on their way, and after much wandering they reached a
spot where a great rock rose straight up in the middle of the road.
Instantly the Serpent uncoiled itself from his neck, and, as it touched
the damp earth, it resumed the shape of the lovely damsel. Pointing to
the rock, she showed him an opening just big enough for a man to wriggle
through. Passing into it, they entered a long underground passage,
which led out on to a wide field, above which spread a blue sky. In the
middle of the field stood a magnificent castle, built out of porphyry,
with a roof of gold and with glittering battlements. And his beautiful
guide told him that this was the palace in which her father lived and
reigned over his kingdom in the Underworld.
Together they entered the palace, and were received by the King with
great kindness. Turning to his daughter, he said:
'My child, I had almost given up the hope of ever seeing you again.
Where have you been all these years?'
'My father,' she replied, 'I owe my life to this youth, who saved me
from a terrible death.'
Upon which the King turned to Martin with a gracious smile, saying: 'I
will reward your courage by granting you whatever your heart desires.
Take as much gold, silver, and precious stones as you choose.'
'I thank you, mighty King, for your gracious offer,' answered Martin,
'but I do not covet either gold, silver, or precious stones; yet if you
will grant me a favour, give me, I beg, the ring from off the little
finger of your royal hand. Every time my eye falls on it I shall think
of your gracious Majesty, and when I marry I shall present it to my
bride.'
So the King took the ring from his finger and gave it to Martin, saying:
'Take it, good youth; but with it I make one condition--you are never to
confide to anyone that this is a magic ring. If you do, you will
straightway bring misfortune on yourself.'
Martin took the ring, and, having thanked the King, he set out on the
same road by which he had come down into the Under-world. When he had
regained the upper air he started for his old home, and having found his
mother still living in the old house where he had left her, they settled
down together very happily. So uneventful was their life that it almost
seemed as if it would go on in this way always, without let or
hindrance. But one day it suddenly came into his mind that he would
like to get married, and, moreover, that he would choose a very grand
wife--a King's daughter, in short. But as he did not trust himself as a
wooer, he determined to send his old mother on the mission.
'You must go to the King,' he said to her, 'and demand the hand of his
lovely daughter in marriage for me.'
'What are you thinking of, my son?' answered the old woman, aghast at
the idea. 'Why cannot you marry someone in your own rank? That would be
far more fitting than to send a poor old woman like me a-wooing to the
King's Court for the hand of a Princess. Why, it is as much as our
heads are worth. Neither my life nor yours would be worth anything if I
went on such a fool's errand.'
'Never fear, little mother,' answered Martin. 'Trust me; all will be
well. But see that you do not come back without an answer of some
kind.'
And so, obedient to her son's behest, the old woman hobbled off to the
palace, and, without being hindered, reached the courtyard, and began to
mount the flight of steps leading to the royal presence chamber. At the
head of the landing rows of courtiers were collected in magnificent
attire, who stared at the queer old figure, and called to her, and
explained to her, with every kind of sign, that it was strictly
forbidden to mount those steps. But their stern words and forbidding
gestures made no impression whatever on the old woman, and, she
resolutely continued to climb the stairs, bent on carrying out her son's
orders. Upon this some of the courtiers seized her by the arms, and
held her back by sheer force, at which she set up such a yell that the
King himself heard it, and stepped out on to the balcony to see what was
the matter. When he beheld the old woman flinging her arms wildly
about, and heard her scream that she would not leave the place till she
had laid her case before the King, he ordered that she should be brought
into his presence. And forthwith she was conducted into the golden
presence chamber, where, leaning back amongst cushions of royal purple,
the King sat, surrounded by his counsellors and courtiers. Courtesying
low, the old woman stood silent before him. 'Well, my good old dame,
what can I do for you?' asked the King.
'I have come,' replied Martin's mother--'and your Majesty must not be
angry with me--I have come a-wooing.'
'Is the woman out of her mind?' said the King, with an angry frown.
But Martin's mother answered boldly: 'If the King will only listen
patiently to me, and give me a straightforward answer, he will see that
I am not out of my mind. You, O King, have a lovely daughter to give in
marriage. I have a son--a wooer--as clever a youth and as good a
son-in-law as you will find in your whole kingdom. There is nothing
that he cannot do. Now tell me, O King, plump and plain, will you give
your daughter to my son as wife?' The King listened to the end of the
old woman's strange request, but every moment his face grew blacker, and
his features sterner; till all at once he thought to himself, 'Is it
worth while that I, the King, should be angry with this poor old fool?'
And all the courtiers and counsellors were amazed when they saw the hard
lines round his mouth and the frown on his brow grow smooth, and heard
the mild but mocking tones in which he answered the old woman, saying:
'If your son is as wonderfully clever as you say, and if there is
nothing in the world that he cannot do, let him build a magnificent
castle, just opposite my palace windows, in four and twenty hours. The
palace must be joined together by a bridge of pure crystal. On each
side of the bridge there must be growing trees, having golden and silver
apples, and with birds of paradise among the branches. At the right of
the bridge there must be a church, with five golden cupolas; in this
church your son shall be wedded to my daughter, and we will keep the
wedding festivities in the new castle. But if he fails to execute this
my royal command, then, as a just but mild monarch, I shall give orders
that you and he are taken, and first dipped in tar and then in feathers,
and you shall be executed in the market-place for the entertainment of
my courtiers.'
And a smile played round the King's lips as he finished speaking, and
his courtiers and counsellors shook with laughter when they thought of
the old woman's folly, and praised the King's wise device, and said to
each other, 'What a joke it will be when we see the pair of them tarred
and feathered! The son is just as able to grow a beard on the palm of
his hand as to execute such a task in twenty-four hours.'
Now the poor old woman was mortally afraid, and in a trembling voice she
asked:
'Is that really your royal will, O King? Must I take this order to my
poor son?'
'Yes, old dame; such is my command. If your son carries out my order,
he shall be rewarded with my daughter; but if he fails, away to the
tar-barrel and the stake with you both!'
On her way home the poor old woman shed bitter tears, and when she saw
Martin she told him what the King had said, and sobbed out:
'Didn't I tell you, my son, that you should marry someone of your own
rank? It would have been better for us this day if you had. As I told
you, my going to Court has been as much as our lives are worth, and now
we will both be tarred and feathered, and burnt in the public
market-place. It is terrible!' and she moaned and cried.
'Never fear, little mother,' answered Martin; 'trust me, and you will
see all will be well. You may go to sleep with a quiet mind.'
And, stepping to the front of the hut, Martin threw his ring from the
palm of one hand into the other, upon which twelve youths instantly
appeared, and demanded what he wanted them to do. Then he told them the
King's commands, and they answered that by the next morning all should
be accomplished exactly as the King had ordered.
Next morning when the King awoke, and looked out of his window, to his
amazement he beheld a magnificent castle, just opposite his own palace,
and joined to it a bridge of pure crystal.
At each side of the bridge trees were growing, from whose branches hung
golden and silver apples, among which birds of paradise perched. At the
right, gleaming in the sun, were the five golden cupolas of a splendid
church, whose bells rang out, as if they would summon people from all
corners of the earth to come and behold the wonder. Now, though the
King would much rather have seen his future son-in-law tarred,
feathered, and burnt at the stake, he remembered his royal oath, and had
to make the best of a bad business. So he took heart of grace, and made
Martin a Duke, and gave his daughter a rich dowry, and prepared the
grandest wedding-feast that had ever been seen, so that to this day the
old people in the country still talk of it.
After the wedding Martin and his royal bride went to dwell in the
magnificent new palace, and here Martin lived in the greatest comfort
and luxury, such luxury as he had never imagined. But though he was as
happy as the day was long, and as merry as a grig, the King's daughter
fretted all day, thinking of the indignity that had been done her in
making her marry Martin, the poor widow's son, instead of a rich young
Prince from a foreign country. So unhappy was she that she spent all
her time wondering how she should get rid of her undesirable husband.
And first she determined to learn the secret of his power, and, with
flattering, caressing words, she tried to coax him to tell her how he
was so clever that there was nothing in the world that he could not do.
At first he would tell her nothing; but once, when he was in a yielding
mood, she approached him with a winning smile on her lovely face, and,
speaking flattering words to him, she gave him a potion to drink, with a
sweet, strong taste. And when he had drunk it Martin's lips were
unsealed, and he told her that all his power lay in the magic ring that
he wore on his finger, and he described to her how to use it, and, still
speaking, he fell into a deep sleep. And when she saw that the potion
had worked, and that he was sound asleep, the Princess took the magic
ring from his finger, and, going into the courtyard, she threw it from
the palm of one hand into the other. On the instant the twelve youths
appeared, and asked her what she commanded them to do. Then she told
them that by the next morning they were to do away with the castle, and
the bridge, and the church, and put in their stead the humble hut in
which Martin used to live with his mother, and that while he slept her
husband was to be carried to his old lowly room; and that they were to
bear her away to the utmost ends of the earth, where an old King lived
who would make her welcome in his palace, and surround her with the
state that befitted a royal Princess.
[Illustration: The Princess summons the Twelve Young Men]
'You shall be obeyed,' answered the twelve youths at the same moment.
And lo and behold! the following morning, when the King awoke and looked
out of his window, he beheld to his amazement that the palace, bridge,
church, and trees had all vanished, and there was nothing in their place
but a bare, miserable-looking hut.
Immediately the King sent for his son-in-law, and commanded him to
explain what had happened. But Martin looked at his royal
father-in-law, and answered never a word. Then the King was very angry,
and, calling a council together, he charged Martin with having been
guilty of witchcraft, and of having deceived the King, and having made
away with the Princess; and he was condemned to imprisonment in a high
stone tower, with neither meat nor drink, till he should die of
starvation.
[Illustration: Schurka upsets the baker.]
Then, in the hour of his dire necessity, his old friends Schurka (the
dog) and Waska (the cat) remembered how Martin had once saved them from
a cruel death; and they took counsel together as to how they should help
him. And Schurka growled, and was of opinion that he would like to tear
everyone in pieces; but Waska purred meditatively, and scratched the
back of her ear with a velvet paw, and remained lost in thought. At the
end of a few minutes she had made up her mind, and, turning to Schurka,
said: 'Let us go together into the town, and the moment we meet a baker
you must make a rush between his legs and upset the tray from off his
head; I will lay hold of the rolls, and will carry them off to our
master.' No sooner said than done. Together the two faithful creatures
trotted off into the town, and very soon they met a baker bearing a tray
on his head, and looking round on all sides, while he cried:
'Fresh rolls, sweet cake,
Fancy bread of every kind.
Come and buy, come and take.
Sure you'll find it to your mind.'
At that moment Schurka made a rush between his legs--the baker stumbled,
the tray was upset, the rolls fell to the ground, and, while the man
angrily pursued Schurka, Waska managed to drag the rolls out of sight
behind a bush. And when a moment later Schurka joined her, they set off
at full tilt to the stone tower where Martin was a prisoner, taking the
rolls with them.
Waska, being very agile, climbed up by the outside to the grated window,
and called in an anxious voice:
'Are you alive, master?'
'Scarcely alive--almost starved to death,' answered Martin in a weak
voice. 'I little thought it would come to this, that I should die of
hunger.'
'Never fear, dear master. Schurka and I will look after you,' said
Waska. And in another moment she had climbed down and brought him back
a roll, and then another, and another, till she had brought him the
whole tray-load. Upon which she said: 'Dear master, Schurka and I are
going off to a distant kingdom at the utmost ends of the earth to fetch
you back your magic ring. You must be careful that the rolls last till
our return.'
And Waska took leave of her beloved master, and set off with Schurka on
their journey. On and on they travelled, looking always to right and
left for traces of the Princess, following up every track, making
inquiries of every cat and dog they met, listening to the talk of every
wayfarer they passed; and at last they heard that the kingdom at the
utmost ends of the earth where the twelve youths had borne the Princess
was not very far off. And at last one day they reached that distant
kingdom, and, going at once to the palace, they began to make friends
with all the dogs and cats in the place, and to question them about the
Princess and the magic ring; but no one could tell them much about
either. Now one day it chanced that Waska had gone down to the palace
cellar to hunt for mice and rats, and seeing an especially fat, well-fed
mouse, she pounced upon it, buried her claws in its soft fur, and was
just going to gobble it up, when she was stopped by the pleading tones
of the little creature, saying, 'If you will only spare my life I may be
of great service to you. I will do everything in my power for you; for
I am the King of the Mice, and if I perish the whole race will die out.'
'So be it,' said Waska. 'I will spare your life; but in return you must
do something for me. In this castle there lives a Princess, the wicked
wife of my dear master. She has stolen away his magic ring. You must
get it away from her at whatever cost; do you hear? Till you have done
this I won't take my claws out of your fur.'
'Good!' replied the mouse; 'I will do what you ask.' And, so saying, he
summoned all the mice in his kingdom together. A countless number of
mice, small and big, brown and grey, assembled, and formed a circle
round their king, who was a prisoner under Waska's claws. Turning to
them he said: 'Dear and faithful subjects, whoever among you will steal
the magic ring from the strange Princess will release me from a cruel
death; and I shall honour him above all the other mice in the kingdom.'
Instantly a tiny mouse stepped forward and said: 'I often creep about
the Princess's bedroom at night, and I have noticed that she has a ring
which she treasures as the apple of her eye. All day she wears it on her
finger, and at night she keeps it in her mouth. I will undertake, sire,
to steal away the ring for you.'
[Illustration: The Mouse steals the Ring from the Princess]
And the tiny mouse tripped away into the bedroom of the Princess, and
waited for night-fall; then, when the Princess had fallen asleep, it
crept up on to her bed, and gnawed a hole in the pillow, through which
it dragged one by one little down feathers, and threw them under the
Princess's nose. And the fluff flew into the Princess's nose, and into
her mouth, and starting up she sneezed and coughed, and the ring fell
out of her mouth on to the coverlet. In a flash the tiny mouse had
seized it and brought it to Waska as a ransom for the King of the Mice.
Thereupon Waska and Schurka started off, and travelled night and day
till they reached the stone tower where Martin was imprisoned; and the
cat climbed up the window, and called out to him:
'Martin, dear master, are you still alive?'
'Ah! Waska, my faithful little cat, is that you?' replied a weak voice.
'I am dying of hunger. For three days I have not tasted food.'
'Be of good heart, dear master,' replied Waska; 'from this day forth you
will know nothing but happiness and prosperity. If this were a moment
to trouble you with riddles, I would make you guess what Schurka and I
have brought you back. Only think, we have got you your ring!'
At these words Martin's joy knew no bounds, and he stroked her fondly,
and she rubbed up against him and purred happily, while below Schurka
bounded in the air, and barked joyfully. Then Martin took the ring, and
threw it from one hand into the other, and instantly the twelve youths
appeared and asked what they were to do.
'Fetch me first something to eat and drink, as quickly as possible; and
after that bring musicians hither, and let us have music all day long.'
Now when the people in the town and palace heard music coming from the
tower they were filled with amazement, and came to the King with the
news that witchcraft must be going on in Martin's Tower, for, instead of
dying of starvation, he was seemingly making merry to the sound of
music, and to the clatter of plates, and glass, and knives and forks;
and the music was so enchantingly sweet that all the passers-by stood
still to listen to it. On this the King sent at once a messenger to the
Starvation Tower, and he was so astonished with what he saw that he
remained rooted to the spot. Then the King sent his chief counsellors,
and they too were transfixed with wonder. At last the King came
himself, and he likewise was spellbound by the beauty of the music.
Then Martin summoned the twelve youths, spoke to them, saying, 'Build up
my castle again, and join it to the King's palace with a crystal bridge;
do not forget the trees with the golden and silver apples, and with the
birds of paradise in the branches; and put back the church with the five
cupolas, and let the bells ring out, summoning the people from the four
corners of the kingdom. And one thing more: bring back my faithless
wife, and lead her into the women's chamber.'
And it was all done as he commanded, and, leaving the Starvation Tower,
he took the King, his father-in-law, by the arm, and led him into the
new palace, where the Princess sat in fear and trembling, awaiting her
death. And Martin spoke to the King, saying, 'King and royal father, I
have suffered much at the hands of your daughter. What punishment shall
be dealt to her?'
Then the mild King answered: 'Beloved Prince and son-in-law, if you love
me, let your anger be turned to grace--forgive my daughter, and restore
her to your heart and favour.'
And Martin's heart was softened and he forgave his wife, and they lived
happily together ever after. And his old mother came and lived with
him, and he never parted with Schurka and Waska; and I need hardly tell
you that he never again let the ring out of his possession.
*THE WHITE DUCK*
Once upon a time a great and powerful King married a lovely Princess.
No couple were ever so happy; but before their honeymoon was over they
were forced to part, for the King had to go on a warlike expedition to a
far country, and leave his young wife alone at home. Bitter were the
tears she shed, while her husband sought in vain to soothe her with
words of comfort and counsel, warning her, above all things, never to
leave the castle, to hold no intercourse with strangers, to beware of
evil counsellors, and especially to be on her guard against strange
women. And the Queen promised faithfully to obey her royal lord and
master in these four matters.
[Illustration: The witch persuades the Queen to bathe.]
So when the King set out on his expedition she shut herself up with her
ladies in her own apartments, and spent her time in spinning and
weaving, and in thinking of her royal husband. Often she was very sad
and lonely, and it happened that one day while she was seated at the
window, letting salt tears drop on her work, an old woman, a kind,
homely-looking old body, stepped up to the window, and, leaning upon her
crutch, addressed the Queen in friendly, flattering tones, saying:
'Why are you sad and cast down, fair Queen? You should not mope all day
in your rooms, but should come out into the green garden, and hear the
birds sing with joy among the trees, and see the butterflies fluttering
above the flowers, and hear the bees and insects hum, and watch the
sunbeams chase the dew-drops through the rose-leaves and in the
lily-cups. All the brightness outside would help to drive away your
cares, O Queen.'
For long the Queen resisted her coaxing words, remembering the promise
she had given the King, her husband; but at last she thought to herself:
After all, what harm would it do if I were to go into the garden for a
short time and enjoy myself among the trees and flowers, and the singing
birds and fluttering butterflies and humming insects, and look at the
dew-drops hiding from the sunbeams in the hearts of the roses and
lilies, and wander about in the sunshine instead of remaining all day in
this room? For she had no idea that the kind-looking old woman leaning
on her crutch was in reality a wicked witch, who envied the Queen her
good fortune, and was determined to ruin her. And so, in all ignorance,
the Queen followed her out into the garden and listened to her smooth,
flattering words. Now, in the middle of the garden there was a pond of
water, clear as crystal, and the old woman said to the Queen:
'The day is so warm, and the sun's rays so scorching, that the water in
the pond looks very cool and inviting. Would you not like to bathe in
it, fair Queen?'
'No, I think not,' answered the Queen; but the next moment she regretted
her words, and thought to herself: Why shouldn't I bathe in that cool,
fresh water? No harm could come of it. And, so saying, she slipped off
her robes and stepped into the water. But scarcely had her tender feet
touched the cool ripples when she felt a great shove on her shoulders,
and the wicked witch had pushed her into the deep water, exclaiming:
'Swim henceforth, White Duck!'
And the witch herself assumed the form of the Queen, and decked herself
out in the royal robes, and sat among the Court ladies, awaiting the
King's return. And suddenly the tramp of horses' hoofs was heard, and
the barking of dogs, and the witch hastened forward to meet the royal
carriages, and throwing her arms round the King's neck, kissed him. And
in his great joy the King did not know that the woman he held in his
arms was not his own dear wife, but a wicked witch.
In the meantime, outside the palace walls, the poor White Duck swam up
and down the pond; and near it laid three eggs, out of which there came
one morning two little fluffy ducklings and a little ugly drake. And
the White Duck brought the little creatures up, and they paddled after
her in the pond, and caught gold-fish, and hopped upon the bank and
waddled about, ruffling their feathers and saying 'Quack, quack' as they
strutted about on the green banks of the pond. But their mother used to
warn them not to stray too far, telling them that a wicked witch lived
in the castle beyond the garden, adding, 'She has ruined me, and she
will do her best to ruin you.' But the young ones did not listen to
their mother, and playing about the garden one day, they strayed close
up to the castle windows. The witch at once recognised them by their
smell, and ground her teeth with anger; but she hid her feelings, and,
pretending to be very kind, she called them to her and joked with them,
and led them into a beautiful room, where she gave them food to eat, and
showed them a soft cushion on which they might sleep. Then she left
them and went down into the palace kitchens, where she told the servants
to sharpen the knives, and to make a great fire ready, and hang a large
kettleful of water over it.
In the meantime the two little ducklings had fallen asleep, and the
little drake lay between them, covered up by their wings, to be kept
warm under their feathers. But the little drake could not go to sleep,
and as he lay there wide awake in the night he heard the witch come to
the door and say:
'Little ones, are you asleep?'
And the little drake answered for the other two:
'We cannot sleep, we wake and weep.
Sharp is the knife, to take our life;
The fire is hot, now boils the pot,
And so we wake, and lie and quake.'
'They are not asleep yet,' muttered the witch to herself; and she walked
up and down in the passage, and then came back to the door, and said:
'Little ones, are you asleep?'
And again the little drake answered for his sisters:
'We cannot sleep, we wake and weep,
Sharp is the knife, to take our life;
The fire is hot, now boils the pot,
And so we wake, and lie and quake.'
'Just the same answer,' muttered the witch; 'I think I'll go in and
see.' So she opened the door gently, and seeing the two little
ducklings sound asleep, she there and then killed them.
The next morning the White Duck wandered round the pond in a distracted
manner, looking for her little ones; she called and she searched, but
could find no trace of them. And in her heart she had a foreboding that
evil had befallen them, and she fluttered up out of the water and flew
to the palace. And there, laid out on the marble floor of the court,
dead and stone cold, were her three children. The White Duck threw
herself upon them, and, covering up their little bodies with her wings,
she cried:
'Quack, quack--my little loves!
Quack, quack--my turtle doves!
I brought you up with grief and pain,
And now before my eyes you're slain.
I gave you always of the best;
I kept you warm in my soft nest.
I loved and watched you day and night--
You were my joy, my one delight.'
The King heard the sad complaint of the White Duck, and called to the
witch: 'Wife, what a wonder is this? Listen to that White Duck.'
But the witch answered, 'My dear husband, what do you mean? There is
nothing wonderful in a duck's quacking. Here, servants! Chase that
duck out of the courtyard.' But though the servants chased and chevied,
they could not get rid of the duck; for she circled round and round, and
always came back to the spot where her children lay, crying:
'Quack, quack--my little loves!
Quack, quack--my turtle-doves!
The wicked witch your lives did take--
The wicked witch, the cunning snake.
First she stole my King away,
Then my children did she slay.
Changed me, from a happy wife,
To a duck for all my life.
Would I were the Queen again;
Would that you had ne'er been slain.'
And as the King heard her words he began to suspect that he had been
deceived, and he called out to the servants, 'Catch that duck, and bring
it here.' But, though they ran to and fro, the duck always fled past
them, and would not let herself be caught. So the King himself stepped
down amongst them, and instantly the duck fluttered down into his hands.
And as he stroked her wings she was changed into a beautiful woman, and
he recognised his dear wife. And she told him that a bottle would be
found in her nest in the garden, containing some drops from the spring
of healing. And it was brought to her; and the ducklings and little
drake were sprinkled with the water, and from the little dead bodies
three lovely children arose. And the King and Queen were overjoyed when
they saw the children, and they all lived happily together in the
beautiful palace. But the wicked witch was taken by the King's command,
and she came to no good end.
[Illustration: The King catches the White Duck.]
*LOVELY ILONKA*
There was once a King's son who told his father that he wished to marry.
'No, no!' said the King; 'you must not be in such a hurry. Wait till
you have done some great deed. My father did not let me marry till I
had won the golden sword you see me wear.'
The Prince was much disappointed, but he never dreamed of disobeying his
father, and he began to think with all his might what he could do. It
was no use staying at home, so one day he wandered out into the world to
try his luck, and as he walked along he came to a little hut in which he
found an old woman crouching over the fire.
'Good evening, mother. I see you have lived long in this world; do you
know anything about the three bulrushes?'
'Yes, indeed, I've lived long and been much about in the world, but I
have never seen or heard anything of what you ask. Still, if you will
wait till to-morrow I may be able to tell you something.'
Well, he waited till the morning, and quite early the old woman appeared
and took out a little pipe and blew in it, and in a moment all the crows
in the world were flying about her. Not one was missing. Then she
asked if they knew anything about the three bulrushes, but not one of
them did.
The Prince went on his way, and a little further on he found another hut
in which lived an old man. On being questioned the old man said he knew
nothing, but begged the Prince to stay overnight, and the next morning
the old man called all the ravens together, but they too had nothing to
tell.
The Prince bade him farewell and set out. He wandered so far that he
crossed seven kingdoms, and at last, one evening, he came to a little
house in which was an old woman.
'Good evening, dear mother,' said he politely.
'Good evening to you, my dear son,' answered the old woman. 'It is
lucky for you that you spoke to me or you would have met with a horrible
death. But may I ask where are you going?'
'I am seeking the three bulrushes. Do you know anything about them?'
'I don't know anything myself, but wait till to-morrow. Perhaps I can
tell you then.' So the next morning she blew on her pipe, and lo! and
behold every magpie in the world flew up. That is to say, all the
magpies except one who had broken a leg and a wing. The old woman sent
after it at once, and when she questioned the magpies the crippled one
was the only one who knew where the three bulrushes were.
Then the Prince started off with the lame magpie. They went on and on
till they reached a great stone wall, many, many feet high.
'Now, Prince,' said the Magpie, 'the three bulrushes are behind that
wall.'
[Illustration: THE FIRST BULRUSH MAIDEN FLIES AWAY]
The Prince wasted no time. He set his horse at the wall and leaped over
it. Then he looked about for the three bulrushes, pulled them up and
set off with them on his way home. As he rode along one of the
bulrushes happened to knock against something. It split open and, only
think! out sprang a lovely girl, who said: 'My heart's love, you are
mine and I am yours; do give me a glass of water.'
But how could the Prince give it her when there was no water at hand?
So the lovely maiden flew away. He split the second bulrush as an
experiment and just the same thing happened.
How careful he was of the third bulrush! He waited till he came to a
well, and there he split it open, and out sprang a maiden seven times
lovelier than either of the others, and she too said: 'My heart's love,
I am yours and you are mine; do give me a glass of water.'
This time the water was ready and the girl did not fly away, but she and
the Prince promised to love each other always. Then they set out for
home.
They soon reached the Prince's country, and as he wished to bring his
promised bride back in a fine coach he went on to the town to fetch one.
In the field where the well was, the King's swineherds and cowherds were
feeding their droves, and the Prince left Ilonka (for that was her name)
in their care.
Unluckily the chief swineherd had an ugly old daughter, and whilst the
Prince was away he dressed her up in fine clothes, and threw Ilonka into
the well.
The Prince returned before long, bringing with him his father and mother
and a great train of courtiers to escort Ilonka home. But how they all
stared when they saw the swineherd's ugly daughter! However, there was
nothing for it but to take her home; and, two days later, the Prince
married her, and his father gave up the crown to him.
But he had no peace! He knew very well he had been cheated, though he
could not think how. Once he desired to have some water brought him
from the well into which Ilonka had been thrown. The coachman went for
it and, in the bucket he pulled up, a pretty little duck was swimming.
He looked wonderingly at it, and all of a sudden it disappeared and he
found a dirty-looking girl standing near him. The girl returned with him
and managed to get a place as housemaid in the palace.
Of course she was very busy all day long, but whenever she had a little
spare time she sat down to spin. Her distaff turned of itself and her
spindle span by itself and the flax wound itself off; and however much
she might use there was always plenty left.
When the Queen--or, rather, the swineherd's daughter--heard of this, she
very much wished to have the distaff, but the girl flatly refused to
give it to her. However, at last she consented on condition that she
might sleep one night in the King's room. The Queen was very angry, and
scolded her well; but as she longed to have the distaff she consented,
though she gave the King a sleeping draught at supper.
Then the girl went to the King's room looking seven times lovelier than
ever. She bent over the sleeper and said: 'My heart's love, I am yours
and you are mine. Speak to me but once; I am your Ilonka.' But the
King was so sound asleep he neither heard nor spoke, and Ilonka left the
room, sadly thinking he was ashamed to own her.
Soon after the Queen again sent to say that she wanted to buy the
spindle. The girl agreed to let her have it on the same conditions as
before; but this time, also, the Queen took care to give the King a
sleeping draught. And once more Ilonka went to the King's room and
spoke to him; whisper as sweetly as she might she could get no answer.
Now some of the King's servants had taken note of the matter, and warned
their master not to eat and drink anything that the Queen offered him,
as for two nights running she had given him a sleeping draught. The
Queen had no idea that her doings had been discovered; and when, a few
days later, she wanted the flax, and had to pay the same price for it,
she felt no fears at all.
At supper that night the Queen offered the King all sorts of nice things
to eat and drink, but he declared he was not hungry, and went early to
bed.
The Queen repented bitterly her promise to the girl, but it was too late
to recall it; for Ilonka had already entered the King's room, where he
lay anxiously waiting for something, he knew not what. All of a sudden
he saw a lovely maiden who bent over him and said: 'My dearest love, I
am yours and you are mine. Speak to me, for I am your Ilonka.'
At these words the King's heart bounded within him. He sprang up and
embraced and kissed her, and she told him all her adventures since the
moment he had left her. And when he heard all that Ilonka had suffered,
and how he had been deceived, he vowed he would be revenged; so he gave
orders that the swineherd, his wife and daughter should all be hanged;
and so they were.
The next day the King was married, with great rejoicings, to the fair
Ilonka; and if they are not yet dead--why, they are still living.
*CLEVER MARIA*
There was once a merchant who lived close to the royal palace, and had
three daughters. They were all pretty, but Maria, the youngest, was the
prettiest of the three. One day the King sent for the merchant, who was
a widower, to give him directions about a journey he wished the good man
to take. The merchant would rather not have gone, as he did not like
leaving his daughters at home, but he could not refuse to obey the
King's commands, and with a heavy heart he returned home to say farewell
to them. Before he left, he took three pots of basil, and gave one to
each girl, saying, 'I am going a journey, but I leave these pots. You
must let nobody into the house. When I come back, they will tell me
what has happened.' 'Nothing will have happened,' said the girls.
[Illustration: CLEVER MARIA]
The father went away, and the following day the King, accompanied by two
friends, paid a visit to the three girls, who were sitting at supper.
When they saw who was there, Maria said, 'Let us go and get a bottle of
wine from the cellar. I will carry the key, my eldest sister can take
the light, while the other brings the bottle.' But the King replied,
'Oh, do not trouble; we are not thirsty.' 'Very well, we will not go,'
answered the two elder girls; but Maria merely said, 'I shall go,
anyhow.' She left the room, and went to the hall where she put out the
light, and putting down the key and the bottle, ran to the house of a
neighbour, and knocked at the door. 'Who is there so late?' asked the
old woman, thrusting her head out of the window.
'Oh, let me in,' answered Maria. 'I have quarrelled with my eldest
sister, and as I do not want to fight any more, I have come to beg you
to allow me to sleep with you.'
So the old woman opened the door and Maria slept in her house. The King
was very angry at her for playing truant, but when she returned home the
next day, she found the plants of her sisters withered away, because
they had disobeyed their father. Now the window in the room of the
eldest overlooked the gardens of the King, and when she saw how fine and
ripe the medlars were on the trees, she longed to eat some, and begged
Maria to scramble down by a rope and pick her a few, and she would draw
her up again. Maria, who was good-natured, swung herself into the
garden by the rope, and got the medlars, and was just making the rope
fast under her arms so as to be hauled up, when her sister cried: 'Oh,
there are such delicious lemons a little farther on. You might bring me
one or two.' Maria turned round to pluck them, and found herself face
to face with the gardener, who caught hold of her, exclaiming, 'What are
you doing here, you little thief?' 'Don't call me names,' she said, 'or
you will get the worst of it,' giving him as she spoke such a violent
push that he fell panting into the lemon bushes. Then she seized the
cord and clambered up to the window.
The next day the second sister had a fancy for bananas and begged so
hard, that, though Maria had declared she would never do such a thing
again, at last she consented, and went down the rope into the King's
garden. This time she met the King, who said to her, 'Ah, here you are
again, cunning one! Now you shall pay for your misdeeds.'
And he began to cross-question her about what she had done. Maria
denied nothing, and when she had finished, the King said again, 'Follow
me to the house, and there you shall pay the penalty.' As he spoke, he
started for the house, looking back from time to time to make sure that
Maria had not run away. All of a sudden, when he glanced round, he
found she had vanished completely, without leaving a trace of where she
had gone. Search was made all through the town, and there was not a
hole or corner which was not ransacked, but there was no sign of her
anywhere. This so enraged the King that he became quite ill, and for
many months his life was despaired of.
Meanwhile the two elder sisters had married the two friends of the King,
and were the mothers of little daughters. Now one day Maria stole
secretly to the house where her elder sister lived, and snatching up the
children put them into a beautiful basket she had with her, covered with
flowers inside and out, so that no one would ever guess it held two
babies. Then she dressed herself as a boy, and placing the basket on her
head she walked slowly past the palace, crying as she went:
'Who will carry these flowers to the King, who lies sick of love?'
And the King in his bed heard what she said, and ordered one of his
attendants to go out and buy the basket. It was brought to his bedside,
and as he raised the lid cries were heard, and peeping in he saw two
little children. He was furious at this new trick which he felt had
been played on him by Maria, and was still looking at them, wondering
how he should pay her out, when he was told that the merchant, Maria's
father, had finished the business on which he had been sent and returned
home. Then the King remembered how Maria had refused to receive his
visit, and how she had stolen his fruit, and he determined to be
revenged on her. So he sent a message by one of his pages that the
merchant was to come to see him the next day, and bring with him a coat
made of stone, or else he would be punished. Now the poor man had been
very sad since he got home the evening before, for though his daughters
had promised that nothing should happen while he was away, he had found
the two elder ones married without asking his leave. And now there was
this fresh misfortune, for how was he to make a coat of stone? He wrung
his hands and declared that the King would be the ruin of him, when
Maria suddenly entered. 'Do not grieve about the coat of stone, dear
father; but take this bit of chalk, and go to the palace and say you
have come to measure the King.' The old man did not see the use of
this, but Maria had so often helped him before that he had confidence in
her, so he put the chalk in his pocket and went to the palace.
'That is no good,' said the King when the merchant had told him what he
had come for.
'Well, I can't make the coat you want,' replied he.
'Then if you would save your head, hand over to me your daughter Maria.'
The merchant did not reply, but went sorrowfully back to his house,
where Maria sat waiting for him.
'Oh, my dear child, why was I born? The King says that, instead of the
coat, I must deliver you up to him.'
'Do not be unhappy, dear father, but get a doll made, exactly like me,
with a string attached to its head, which I can pull for "Yes" and
"No."'
So the old man went out at once to see about it.
The King remained patiently in his palace, feeling sure that this time
Maria could not escape him; and he said to his pages, 'If a gentleman
should come here with his daughter and ask to be allowed to speak with
me, put the young lady in my room and see she does not leave it.'
When the door was shut on Maria, who had concealed the doll under her
cloak, she hid herself under the couch, keeping fast hold of the string
which was fastened to its head.
[Illustration: MARIA & THE KING]
'Senhora Maria, I hope you are well,' said the King when he entered the
room. The doll nodded. 'Now we will reckon up accounts,' continued he,
and he began at the beginning, and ended up with the flower-basket, and
at each fresh misdeed Maria pulled the string, so that the doll's head
nodded assent. 'Whoso mocks at me merits death,' declared the King when
he had ended, and drawing his sword, cut off the doll's head. It fell
towards him, and as he felt the touch of a kiss, he exclaimed, 'Ah,
Maria, Maria, so sweet in death, so hard to me in life! The man who
could kill you deserves to die!' And he was about to turn his sword on
himself, when the true Maria sprang out from under the bed, and flung
herself into his arms. And the next day they were married and lived
happily for many years.
*THE LANGUAGE OF BEASTS*
Once upon a time a man had a shepherd who served him many years
faithfully and honestly. One day, whilst herding his flock, this
shepherd heard a hissing sound, coming out of a forest near by, which he
could not account for. So he went into the wood in the direction of the
noise to try to discover the cause. When he approached the place he
found that the dry grass and leaves were on fire, and on a tree,
surrounded by flames, a snake was coiled, hissing with terror.
The shepherd stood wondering how the poor snake could escape, for the
wind was blowing the flames that way, and soon that tree would be
burning like the rest. Suddenly the snake cried: 'O shepherd! for the
love of heaven save me from this fire!'
[Illustration: THE SHEPHERD COMES TO THE ARCH OF SNAKES]
Then the shepherd stretched his staff out over the flames and the snake
wound itself round the staff and up to his hand, and from his hand it
crept up his arm, and twined itself about his neck. The shepherd
trembled with fright, expecting every instant to be stung to death, and
said: 'What an unlucky man I am! Did I rescue you only to be destroyed
myself?' But the snake answered: 'Have no fear; only carry me home to
my father who is the King of the Snakes.' The shepherd, however, was
much too frightened to listen, and said that he could not go away and
leave his flock alone; but the snake said: 'You need not be afraid to
leave your flock, no evil shall befall them; but make all the haste you
can.'
So he set off through the wood carrying the snake, and after a time he
came to a great gateway, made entirely of snakes intertwined one with
another. The shepherd stood still with surprise, but the snake round
his neck whistled, and immediately all the arch unwound itself.
'When we are come to my father's house,' said his own snake to him, 'he
will reward you with anything you like to ask--silver, gold, jewels, or
whatever on this earth is most precious: but take none of all these
things, ask rather to understand the language of beasts. He will refuse
it to you a long time, but in the end he will grant it to you.'
Soon after that they arrived at the house of the King of the Snakes, who
burst into tears of joy at the sight of his daughter, as he had given
her up for dead. 'Where have you been all this time?' he asked,
directly he could speak, and she told him that she had been caught in a
forest fire, and had been rescued from the flames by the shepherd. The
King of the Snakes, then turning to the shepherd, said to him: 'What
reward will you choose for saving my child?'
'Make me to know the language of beasts,' answered the shepherd, 'that
is all I desire.'
The king replied: 'Such knowledge would be of no benefit to you, for if
I granted it to you and you told anyone of it, you would immediately
die; ask me rather for whatever else you would most like to possess, and
it shall be yours.'
But the shepherd answered him: 'Sir, if you wish to reward me for saving
your daughter, grant me, I pray you, to know the language of beasts. I
desire nothing else'; and he turned as if to depart.
Then the king called him back, saying: 'If nothing else will satisfy
you, open your mouth.' The man obeyed, and the king spat into it, and
said: 'Now spit into my mouth.' The shepherd did as he was told, then
the King of the Snakes spat again into the shepherd's mouth. When they
had spat into each other's mouths three times, the king said:
'Now you know the language of beasts, go in peace; but, if you value
your life, beware lest you tell anyone of it, else you will immediately
die.'
So the shepherd set out for home, and on his way through the wood he
heard and understood all that was said by the birds, and by every living
creature. When he got back to his sheep he found the flock grazing
peacefully, and as he was very tired he laid himself down by them to
rest a little. Hardly had he done so when two ravens flew down and
perched on a tree near by, and began to talk to each other in their own
language: 'If that shepherd only knew that there is a vault full of gold
and silver beneath where that lamb is lying, what would he not do?'
When the shepherd heard these words he went straight to his master and
told him, and the master at once took a waggon, and broke open the door
of the vault, and they carried off the treasure. But instead of keeping
it for himself, the master, who was an honourable man, gave it all up to
the shepherd, saying: 'Take it, it is yours. The gods have given it to
you.' So the shepherd took the treasure and built himself a house. He
married a wife, and they lived in great peace and happiness, and he was
acknowledged to be the richest man, not only of his native village, but
of all the country-side. He had flocks of sheep, and cattle, and horses
without end, as well as beautiful clothes and jewels.
One day, just before Christmas, he said to his wife: 'Prepare everything
for a great feast, to-morrow we will take things with us to the farm
that the shepherds there may make merry.' The wife obeyed, and all was
prepared as he desired. Next day they both went to the farm, and in the
evening the master said to the shepherds: 'Now come, all of you, eat,
drink, and make merry. I will watch the flocks myself to-night in your
stead.' Then he went out to spend the night with the flocks.
When midnight struck the wolves howled and the dogs barked, and the
wolves spoke in their own tongue, saying:
'Shall we come in and work havoc, and you too shall eat flesh?' And the
dogs answered in their tongue: 'Come in, and for once we shall have
enough to eat.'
Now amongst the dogs there was one so old that he had only two teeth
left in his head, and he spoke to the wolves, saying: 'So long as I have
my two teeth still in my head, I will let no harm be done to my master.'
All this the master heard and understood, and as soon as morning dawned
he ordered all the dogs to be killed excepting the old dog. The farm
servants wondered at this order, and exclaimed: 'But surely, sir, that
would be a pity.'
The master answered: 'Do as I bid you'; and made ready to return home
with his wife, and they mounted their horses, her steed being a mare.
As they went on their way, it happened that the husband rode on ahead,
while the wife was a little way behind. The husband's horse, seeing
this, neighed, and said to the mare: 'Come along, make haste; why are
you so slow?' And the mare answered: 'It is very easy for you, you
carry only your master, who is a thin man, but I carry my mistress, who
is so fat that she weighs as much as three.' When the husband heard
that he looked back and laughed, which the wife perceiving, she urged on
the mare till she caught up with her husband, and asked him why he
laughed. 'For nothing at all,' he answered; 'just because it came into
my head.' She would not be satisfied with this answer, and urged him
more and more to tell her why he had laughed. But he controlled himself
and said: 'Let me be, wife; what ails you? I do not know myself why I
laughed.' But the more he put her off, the more she tormented him to
tell her the cause of his laughter. At length he said to her: 'Know,
then, that if I tell it you I shall immediately and surely die.' But
even this did not quiet her; she only besought him the more to tell her.
Meanwhile they had reached home, and before getting down from his horse
the man called for a coffin to be brought; and when it was there he
placed it in front of the house, and said to his wife:
'See, I will lay myself down in this coffin, and will then tell you why
I laughed, for as soon as I have told you I shall surely die.' So he
lay down in the coffin, and while he took a last look around him, his
old dog came out from the farm and sat down by him, and whined. When
the master saw this, he called to his wife: 'Bring a piece of bread to
give to the dog.' The wife brought some bread and threw it to the dog,
but he would not look at it. Then the farm cock came and pecked at the
bread; but the dog said to it: 'Wretched glutton, you can eat like that
when you see that your master is dying?' The cock answered: 'Let him
die, if he is so stupid. I have a hundred wives, which I call together
when I find a grain of corn, and as soon as they are there I swallow it
myself; should one of them dare to be angry, I would give her a lesson
with my beak. He has only one wife, and he cannot keep her in order.'
As soon as the man understood this, he got up out of the coffin, seized
a stick, and called his wife into the room, saying: 'Come, and I will
tell you what you so much want to know'; and then he began to beat her
with the stick, saying with each blow: 'It is that, wife, it is that!'
And in this way he taught her never again to ask why he had laughed.
*THE CAT AND THE MOUSE IN PARTNERSHIP*
[Illustration: THE PARTNERSHIP]
A cat had made acquaintance with a Mouse, and had spoken so much of the
great love and friendship she felt for her, that at last the Mouse
consented to live in the same house with her, and to go shares in the
housekeeping. 'But we must provide for the winter or else we shall
suffer hunger,' said the Cat. 'You, little Mouse, cannot venture
everywhere in case you run at last into a trap.' This good counsel was
followed, and a little pot of fat was bought. But they did not know
where to put it. At length, after long consultation, the Cat said, 'I
know of no place where it could be better put than in the church. No
one will trouble to take it away from there. We will hide it in a
corner, and we won't touch it till we are in want.' So the little pot
was placed in safety; but it was not long before the Cat had a great
longing for it, and said to the Mouse, 'I wanted to tell you, little
Mouse, that my cousin has a little son, white with brown spots, and she
wants me to be godmother to it. Let me go out to-day, and do you take
care of the house alone.'
[Illustration: AT HOME IN THE CHURCH]
'Yes, go, certainly,' replied the Mouse, 'and when you eat anything
good, think of me; I should very much like a drop of the red christening
wine.'
But it was all untrue. The Cat had no cousin, and had not been asked to
be godmother. She went straight to the church, slunk to the little pot
of fat, began to lick it, and licked the top off. Then she took a walk
on the roofs of the town, looked at the view, stretched herself out in
the sun, and licked her lips whenever she thought of the little pot of
fat. As soon as it was evening she went home again.
'Ah, here you are again!' said the Mouse; 'you must certainly have had
an enjoyable day.'
'It went off very well,' answered the Cat.
'What was the child's name?' asked the Mouse.
'Top Off,' said the Cat drily.
'Topoff!' echoed the Mouse; 'it is indeed a wonderful and curious name.
Is it in your family?'
'What is there odd about it?' said the Cat. 'It is not worse than
Breadthief, as your god-child is called.'
Not long after this another great longing came over the Cat. She said
to the Mouse, 'You must again be kind enough to look after the house
alone, for I have been asked a second time to stand godmother, and as
this child has a white ring round its neck, I cannot refuse.'
The kind Mouse agreed, but the Cat slunk under the town wall to the
church, and ate up half of the pot of fat. 'Nothing tastes better,'
said she, 'than what one eats by oneself,' and she was very much pleased
with her day's work. When she came home the Mouse asked, 'What was this
child called?'
'Half Gone,' answered the Cat.
'Halfgone! what a name! I have never heard it in my life. I don't
believe it is in the calendar.'
Soon the Cat's mouth began to water once more after her licking
business. 'All good things in threes,' she said to the Mouse; 'I have
again to stand godmother. The child is quite black, and has very white
paws, but not a single white hair on its body. This only happens once
in two years, so you will let me go out!'
'Topoff! Halfgone!' repeated the Mouse; 'they are such curious names;
they make me very thoughtful.'
'Oh, you sit at home in your dark grey coat and your long tail,' said
the Cat, 'and you get fanciful. That comes of not going out in the
day.'
The Mouse had a good cleaning out while the Cat was gone, and made the
house tidy; but the greedy Cat ate the fat every bit up. 'When it is
all gone one can be at rest,' she said to herself, and at night she came
home sleek and satisfied. The Mouse asked at once after the third
child's name.
'It won't please you any better,' said the Cat; 'he was called Clean
Gone.'
'Cleangone!' repeated the Mouse. 'I do not believe that name has been
printed any more than the others. Cleangone! What can it mean?' She
shook her head, curled herself up, and went to sleep.
From this time on no one asked the Cat to stand godmother; but when the
winter came and there was nothing to be got outside, the Mouse
remembered their provision and said: 'Come, Cat, we will go to our pot
of fat which we have stored away; it will taste very good.'
'Yes, indeed,' answered the Cat; 'it will taste as good to you as if you
stretched your thin tongue out of the window.'
They started off, and when they reached it they found the pot in its
place, but quite empty!
'Ah,' said the Mouse, 'now I know what has happened! It has all come
out! You are a true friend to me! You have eaten it all when you stood
godmother; first the top off, then half of it gone, then----'
[Illustration: PROTESTATION. The Way of the World]
'Will you be quiet?' screamed the Cat. 'Another word and I will eat you
up.'
'Cleangone' was already on the poor Mouse's tongue, and scarcely was it
out than the Cat made a spring at her, seized and swallowed her.
You see that is the way of the world.
*THE SIX SWANS*
A king was once hunting in a great wood, and he hunted the game so
eagerly that none of his courtiers could follow him. When evening came
on he stood still and looked round him, and he saw that he had quite
lost himself. He sought a way out, but could find none. Then he saw an
old woman with a shaking head coming towards him; but she was a witch.
'Good woman,' he said to her, 'can you not show me the way out of the
wood?'
'Oh, certainly, Sir King,' she replied, 'I can quite well do that, but
on one condition, which if you do not fulfil you will never get out of
the wood, and will die of hunger.'
'What is the condition?' asked the King.
'I have a daughter,' said the old woman, 'who is so beautiful that she
has not her equal in the world, and is well fitted to be your wife; if
you will make her lady-queen I will show you the way out of the wood.'
The King in his anguish of mind consented, and the old woman led him to
her little house where her daughter was sitting by the fire. She
received the King as if she were expecting him, and he saw that she was
certainly very beautiful; but she did not please him, and he could not
look at her without a secret feeling of horror. As soon as he had lifted
the maiden on to his horse the old woman showed him the way, and the
King reached his palace, where the wedding was celebrated.
The King had already been married once, and had by his first wife seven
children, six boys and one girl, whom he loved more than anything in the
world. And now, because he was afraid that their stepmother might not
treat them well and might do them harm, he put them in a lonely castle
that stood in the middle of a wood. It lay so hidden, and the way to it
was so hard to find, that he himself could not have found it out had not
a wise-woman given him a reel of thread which possessed a marvellous
property: when he threw it before him it unwound itself and showed him
the way. But the King went so often to his dear children that the Queen
was offended at his absence. She grew curious, and wanted to know what
he had to do quite alone in the wood. She gave his servants a great
deal of money, and they betrayed the secret to her, and also told her of
the reel which alone could point out the way. She had no rest now till
she had found out where the King guarded the reel, and then she made
some little white shirts, and, as she had learnt from her witch-mother,
sewed an enchantment in each of them.
And when the King had ridden off she took the little shirts and went
into the wood, and the reel showed her the way. The children, who saw
someone coming in the distance, thought it was their dear father coming
to them, and sprang to meet him very joyfully. Then she threw over each
one a little shirt, which when it had touched their bodies changed them
into swans, and they flew away over the forest. The Queen went home
quite satisfied, and thought she had got rid of her step-children; but
the girl had not run to meet her with her brothers, and she knew nothing
of her.
The next day the King came to visit his children, but he found no one
but the girl.
[Illustration: The Six Brothers Changed Into Swans by Their Stepmother]
'Where are your brothers?' asked the King.
'Alas! dear father,' she answered, 'they have gone away and left me all
alone.' And she told him that looking out of her little window she had
seen her brothers flying over the wood in the shape of swans, and she
showed him the feathers which they had let fall in the yard, and which
she had collected. The King mourned, but he did not think that the
Queen had done the wicked deed, and as he was afraid the maiden would
also be taken from him, he wanted to take her with him. But she was
afraid of the stepmother, and begged the King to let her stay just one
night more in the castle in the wood. The poor maiden thought, 'My home
is no longer here; I will go and seek my brothers.' And when night came
she fled away into the forest. She ran all through the night and the
next day, till she could go no farther for weariness. Then she saw a
little hut, went in, and found a room with six little beds. She was
afraid to lie down on one, so she crept under one of them, lay on the
hard floor, and was going to spend the night there. But when the sun
had set she heard a noise, and saw six swans flying in at the window.
They stood on the floor and blew at one another, and blew all their
feathers off, and their swan-skin came off like a shirt. Then the
maiden recognised her brothers, and overjoyed she crept out from under
the bed. Her brothers were not less delighted than she to see their
little sister again, but their joy did not last long.
'You cannot stay here,' they said to her. 'This is a den of robbers; if
they were to come here and find you they would kill you.'
Could you not protect me?' asked the little sister.
'No,' they answered, 'for we can only lay aside our swan-skins for a
quarter of an hour every evening. For this time we regain our human
forms, but then we are changed into swans again.'