such a scarecrow they gave him a scarecrow horse. It was old and blind
of one eye and limped on three legs, dragging the fourth behind it.
The lad mounted and rode forth with all the rest, and when the
courtiers saw him they laughed and laughed until their sides ached.
They had not gone far before they had to cross a swamp, and midway
through it the nag stuck fast. There sat the lad, beating it and
shouting, "Hie! Hie! Now will you go? Hie! Hie! Now will you go?"
Every one went riding by, and as they passed him they pointed and
laughed and jeered.
After they had all gone the lad slipped from the nag's back and ran
off to the wood. He snatched off his wig and took his armor from the
hollow tree and shook the bridle. At once the black steed came
galloping up. The lad mounted him and rode off after the others. His
armor shone in the sun, and so handsome was he, and so noble his air
that any one would have taken him for a prince at least.
When he reached the battle ground he found the King sore pressed, but
he rode so fiercely against the enemy that they were obliged to fall
back, and the King's own forces won the day. Then the lad rode away so
quickly that no one knew what had become of him. The King was sorry,
for he wished to thank the brave hero who had fought for him.
But the lad rode back to the wood and hid his armor in a tree and
turned the black steed loose. Then he put on his wig and ran back and
mounted the sorry nag that was still stuck in the swamp where he had
left it.
When the King and his courtiers came riding back there sat the lad in
rags and a gray moss wig, and he was beating his horse and shouting,
"Hie! Hie! Now will you go?"
Then the courtiers laughed more than ever, and one of them threw a
clod at him.
The next day the King again rode forth to war with all his train.
There was the lad still seated on the nag in the swamp. "What a fool
he is," they cried. "He must have been sitting there all night." Then
they rode on and left him.
But the lad ran with haste to the wood and took his armor from the
tree and put it on. He shook the bridle, and the black steed came
galloping up to him. The lad mounted and rode away to the battle
field. The King's forces were falling back, but the lad attacked the
enemy so fiercely that they were put to rout. Every one wondered who
the hero could be, but as soon as the battle was won he rode away so
swiftly that no one had a chance to question him and no one knew what
had become of him. "If I could but find him," said the King, "I would
honor him as I have never honored any one, for such a hero never was
seen before."
But the lad hastened back to the wood; he laid aside his armor and
turned the black steed loose. Then he put on his wig again and ran
back to the swamp and mounted the sorry nag.
When the King's forces came riding home, there sat the gardener's ugly
lad, whipping his sorry nag and crying "Hie! Hie! Now will you go?"
The courtiers looked upon him with scorn. "Why does he not go home and
get to work?" they cried. "Such a scarecrow is an insult to all who
see him." One of the courtiers, more ill-natured than the rest, shot
an arrow at him, and it pierced his leg so the blood flowed. The lad
cried out so that it was pitiful to hear him. The King felt sorry for
him, ugly though he was, and drew out his own royal handkerchief and
threw it to him.
"There, Sirrah! Take that and bind up thy wound!" he cried.
The lad took the handkerchief and bound it about his leg, and so the
bleeding was stopped.
The next day, when the courtiers rode by, there sat the lad still upon
his broken-down nag, shouting to it as if to urge it forward, and his
leg was tied up with the bloody kerchief, and the King's own initials
were on the kerchief in letters of gold.
The courtiers did not dare to jeer at him this time, because the King
had been kind to him, but they turned their faces aside so as not to
see him.
As soon as they had gone the lad sprang down and ran to the wood and
put on his armor and shook the bridle for the black steed, but he was
in such haste, that he forgot the kerchief that he had used to bind up
his wound, and so, when he rode out upon the battle field, he had it
still tied about his leg.
That day the lad fought more fiercely than ever before, and it was
well he did, for otherwise the King's forces would certainly have been
defeated. Already they were in retreat when the lad rode forth upon
the field. But at sight of him they took heart again, and he led them
on and did not stop or stay till he came to where the enemy's leader
was, and with one blow of his sword cut off his head.
Then all the enemy's forces fled back, and the King's men pursued
after them and cut many of them to pieces, and the rest were glad to
get safely back into their own country.
After that the lad would have ridden away as before, but this the King
would not allow. He called to him and rode up to where he was, and
when he saw the bloody kerchief tied about the stranger's leg he knew
he must be the very one he had left sitting on the old nag in the
swamp awhile back.
This the lad could not deny, and when the King questioned him he told
him everything.
Then the King said, "Though you are only a gardener's lad still you
are a mighty hero, and the hand of the Princess shall be yours. You
shall marry her, and after I die you shall rule over the kingdom in my
stead."
You may guess the lad did not say no to that, for he had seen the
Princess sitting at her window, and just from looking at her there he
loved her with all his heart.
So the King and the courtiers rode home with the lad in their midst,
and when the Princess heard she was to marry him she was filled with
joy, for she recognized him at once as the gardener's boy who had
worked beneath her window.
Then all was joy and happiness. A great feast was prepared, and the
lad and the Princess were married with the greatest magnificence. But
first the lad rubbed his leg with the ointment and then it became
quite well again; for it would never have done for him to go limping
to his own wedding.
Now as soon as he was married he went out to the stable to tell it to
the black steed. He found the horse sad and sorrowful. It stood
drooping and would not raise its head or speak when he entered the
stall.
The lad was troubled at this. "What ails you, my steed, that you stand
there so sorrowful when all around rejoice?" asked he.
"I am sick at heart," answered the steed, "and you alone can cure me
of my sickness."
"How is that?" asked the lad.
"Promise to do whatsoever I ask of you, and I will tell you."
"I promise," replied the lad, "for there is nothing I would not do for
you."
"Then take your sword and cut off my head," said the steed.
When the lad heard this he was horrified. "What is this you ask of
me?" he cried. "All that I have I owe to you, and shall I in return do
you such an injury?"
But the black horse reminded him that he had promised. "If you do not
do as I ask you," said he, "then I shall know that you are a coward
who dares not keep his word."
The youth could not refuse after that. He was obliged to do as the
horse bade him, but the tears dimmed his eyes so that he could
scarcely see. He drew his sword and cut off the horse's head. At once,
instead of a coal-black steed, a handsome young Prince stood before
him. The lad could scarce believe his eyes. He stared about him,
wondering what had become of the horse.
"There is no need to look for the black steed," said the princely
stranger, "for I am he." He then told the lad that he was the son of
the King of a neighboring country. An enemy had risen up and slain the
King and had given the Prince to the black master who had turned him
into a horse and taken him away to his castle. "You have rescued me
from the enchantment, and now I am free to claim my land again," said
the Prince. He then told the lad that the enemy King whom he had
lately slain in battle was the very one who had taken his kingdom from
him.
Then the Prince went back with the lad to the palace, and was
introduced to the King and the Princess and all the court.
After that the lad and his bride and the Prince rode forth with a
great retinue into the Prince's own country, and his people received
him with joy, and he and the lad lived in the greatest love and
friendship forever after.
THE WISE GIRL
A SERBIAN STORY
There was once a girl who was wiser than the King and all his
councilors; there never was anything like it. Her father was so proud
of her that he boasted about her cleverness at home and abroad. He
could not keep his tongue still about it. One day he was boasting to
one of his neighbors, and he said, "The girl is so clever that not
even the King himself could ask her a question she couldn't answer, or
read her a riddle she couldn't unravel."
Now it so chanced the King was sitting at a window near by, and he
overheard what the girl's father was saying. The next day he sent for
the man to come before him. "I hear you have a daughter who is so
clever that no one in the kingdom can equal her; and is that so?"
asked the King.
Yes, it was no more than the truth. Too much could not be said of her
wit and cleverness.
That was well, and the King was glad to hear it. He had thirty eggs;
they were fresh and good, but it would take a clever person to hatch
chickens out of them. He then bade his chancellor get the eggs and
give them to the man.
"Take these home to your daughter," said the King, "and bid her hatch
them out for me. If she succeeds she shall have a bag of money for her
pains, but if she fails you shall be beaten as a vain boaster."
The man was troubled when he heard this. Still his daughter was so
clever he was almost sure she could hatch out the eggs. He carried
them home to her and told her exactly what the King had said, and it
did not take the girl long to find out that the eggs had been boiled.
When she told her father that, he made a great to-do. That was a
pretty trick for the King to have played upon him. Now he would have
to take a beating and all the neighbors would hear about it. Would to
Heaven he had never had a daughter at all if that was what came of it.
The girl, however, bade him be of good cheer. "Go to bed and sleep
quietly," said she. "I will think of some way out of the trouble. No
harm shall come to you, even though I have to go to the palace myself
and take the beating in your place."
The next day the girl gave her father a bag of boiled beans and bade
him take them out to a certain place where the King rode by every day.
"Wait until you see him coming," said she, "and then begin to sow the
beans." At the same time he was to call out this, that, and the other
so loudly that the King could not help but hear him.
The man took the bag of beans and went out to the field his daughter
had spoken of. He waited until he saw the King coming, and then he
began to sow the beans, and at the same time to cry aloud, "Come sun,
come rain! Heaven grant that these boiled beans may yield me a good
crop."
The King was surprised that any one should be so stupid as to think
boiled beans would grow and yield a crop. He did not recognize the
man, for he had only seen him once, and he stopped his horse to speak
to him. "My poor man," said he, "how can you expect boiled beans to
grow? Do you not know that that is impossible?"
"Whatever the King commands should be possible," answered the man,
"and if chickens can hatch from boiled eggs why should not boiled
beans yield a crop?"
When the King heard this he looked at the man more closely, and then
he recognized him as the father of the clever daughter.
"You have indeed a clever daughter," said he. "Take your beans home
and bring me back the eggs I gave you."
The man was very glad when he heard that, and made haste to obey. He
carried the beans home and then took the eggs and brought them back to
the palace of the King.
After the King had received the eggs he gave the man a handful of
flax. "Take this to your clever daughter," he said, "and bid her make
for me within the week a full set of sails for a large ship. If she
does this she shall receive the half of my kingdom as a reward, but if
she fails you shall have a drubbing that you will not soon forget."
The man returned to his home, loudly lamenting his hard lot.
"What is the matter?" asked his daughter. "Has the King set another
task that I must do?"
Yes, that he had; and her father showed her the flax the King had sent
her and gave her the message.
"Do not be troubled," said the girl. "No harm shall come to you. Go to
bed and sleep quietly, and to-morrow I will send the King an answer
that will satisfy him."
The man believed what his daughter said. He went to bed and slept
quietly.
The next day the girl gave her father a small piece of wood. "Carry
this to the King," said she. "Tell him I am ready to make the sails,
but first let him make me of this wood a large ship that I may fit the
sails to it."
The father did as the girl bade him, and the King was surprised at the
cleverness of the girl in returning him such an answer.
"That is all very well," said he, "and I will excuse her from this
task. But here! Here is a glass mug. Take it home to your clever
daughter. Tell her it is my command that she dip out the waters from
the ocean bed so that I can ride over the bottom dry shod. If she does
this, I will take her for my wife, but if she fails you shall be
beaten within an inch of your life."
The man took the mug and hastened home, weeping aloud and bemoaning
his fate.
"Well, and what is it?" asked his daughter. "What does the King demand
of me now?"
The man gave her the glass mug and told her what the King had said.
"Do not be troubled," said the girl. "Go to bed and sleep in peace.
You shall not be beaten, and soon I shall be reigning as Queen over
all this land."
The man had trust in her. He went to bed and slept and dreamed he saw
her sitting by the King with a crown on her head.
The next day the girl gave her father a bunch of tow. "Take this to
the King," she said. "Tell him you have given me the mug, and I am
willing to dip the sea dry, but first let him take this tow and stop
up all the rivers that flow into the ocean."
The man did as his daughter bade him. He took the tow to the King and
told him exactly what the girl had said.
Then the King saw that the girl was indeed a clever one, and he sent
for her to come before him.
She came just as she was, in her homespun dress and her rough shoes
and with a cap on her head, but for all her mean clothing she was as
pretty and fine as a flower, and the King was not slow to see it.
Still he wanted to make sure for himself that she was as clever as her
messages had been.
"Tell me," said he, "what sound can be heard the farthest throughout
the world?"
"The thunder that echoes through heaven and earth," answered the girl,
"and your own royal commands that go from lip to lip."
This reply pleased the King greatly. "And now tell me," said he,
"exactly what is my royal sceptre worth?"
"It is worth exactly as much as the power for which it stands," the
girl replied.
The King was so well satisfied with the way the girl answered that he
no longer hesitated; he determined that she should be his Queen, and
that they should be married at once.
The girl had something to say to this, however. "I am but a poor
girl," said she, "and my ways are not your ways. It may well be that
you will tire of me, or that you may be angry with me sometime, and
send me back to my father's house to live. Promise that if this should
happen you will allow me to carry back with me from the castle the
thing that has grown most precious to me."
The King was willing to agree to this, but the girl was not satisfied
until he had written down his promise and signed it with his own royal
hand. Then she and the King were married with the greatest magnificence,
and she came to live in the palace and reign over the land.
Now while the girl was still only a peasant she had been well content
to dress in homespun and live as a peasant should, but after she
became Queen she would wear nothing but the most magnificent robes and
jewels and ornaments, for that seemed to her only right and proper for
a Queen. But the King, who was of a very jealous nature, thought his
wife did not care at all for him, but only for the fine things he
could give her.
One time the King and Queen were to ride abroad together, and the
Queen spent so much time in dressing herself that the King was kept
waiting, and he became very angry. When she appeared before him, he
would not even look at her. "You care nothing for me, but only for the
jewels and fine clothes you wear," he cried. "Take with you those that
are the most precious to you, as I promised you, and return to your
father's house. I will no longer have a wife who cares only for my
possessions and not at all for me."
Very well; the girl was willing to go. "And I will be happier in my
father's house than I was when I first met you," said she. Nevertheless
she begged that she might spend one more night in the palace, and that
she and the King might sup together once again before she returned
home.
To this the King agreed, for he still loved her, even though he was so
angry with her.
So he and his wife supped together that evening, and just at the last
the Queen took a golden cup and filled it with wine. Then, when the
King was not looking, she put a sleeping potion in the wine and gave
it to him to drink.
He took it and drank to the very last drop, suspecting nothing, but
soon after he sank down among the cushions in a deep sleep. Then the
Queen caused him to be carried to her father's house and laid in the
bed there.
When the King awoke the next morning he was very much surprised to
find himself in the peasant's cottage. He raised himself upon his
elbow to look about him, and at once the girl came to the bedside, and
she was again dressed in the coarse and common clothes she had worn
before she was married.
"What means this?" asked the King, "and how came I here?"
"My dear husband," said the girl, "your promise was that if you ever
sent me back to my father's house I might carry with me the thing that
had become most precious to me in the castle. You are that most
precious thing, and I care for nothing else except as it makes me
pleasing in your sight."
Then the King could no longer feel jealous or angry with her. He
clasped her in his arms, and they kissed each other tenderly. That
same day they returned to the palace, and from that time on the King
and his peasant Queen lived together in the greatest love and
happiness.
THE HISTORY OF ALI COGIA
FROM THE ARABIAN NIGHTS
In the city of Bagdad there once lived a merchant named Ali Cogia.
This merchant was faithful and honest in all his dealings, but he had
never made the holy pilgrimage to Mecca. He often felt troubled over
this, for he knew he was neglecting a religious duty, but he was so
occupied with his business affairs that it was difficult for him to
leave home. Year after year he planned to make the pilgrimage, but
always he postponed it, hoping for some more convenient time.
One night the merchant had a dream so vivid that it was more like a
vision than a dream. In this dream or vision an old man appeared
before him and, regarding him with a severe and reproachful look,
said, "Why have you not made the pilgrimage to Mecca?"
When Ali Cogia awoke he felt greatly troubled. He feared this dream
had been sent him as a reproach and a warning from heaven. He was
still more troubled when the next night he dreamed the same dream; and
when upon the third night the old man again appeared before him and
asked the same question, he determined to delay no longer, but to set
out upon the pilgrimage as soon as possible.
To this end he sold off all his goods except some that he decided to
carry with him to Mecca and to dispose of there. He settled all his
debts and rented his shop and his house to a friend, and as he had
neither wife nor family, he was now free to set out at any time.
The sale of his goods had brought in quite a large sum of money, so
that after he had set aside as much as was needed for the journey he
found he had still a thousand gold pieces left over.
These he determined to leave in some safe place until his return. He
put the money in an olive jar and covered it over with olives and
sealed it carefully. He then carried the jar to a friend named Abul
Hassan, who was the owner of a large warehouse.
"Abul Hassan," said he, "I am about to make the journey to Mecca, as
you perhaps know. I have here a jar of olives that I would like to
leave in your warehouse until my return, if you will allow me to do
so."
Abul Hassan was quite willing that his friend should do this and gave
him the keys of the warehouse, bidding him place the jar wherever he
wished. "I will gladly keep it until you return," said he, "and you
may rest assured the jar will not be disturbed until such time as you
shall come and claim it."
Ali Cogia thanked his friend and carried the jar into the warehouse,
placing it in the farthest and darkest corner where it would not be in
the way. Soon after he set out upon his journey to Mecca.
When Ali Cogia left Bagdad he had no thought but that he would return
in a year's time at latest. He made the journey safely, in company
with a number of other pilgrims. Arrived in Mecca, he visited the
celebrated temples and other objects of interest that were there. He
performed all his religious duties faithfully, and after that he went
to the bazaar and secured a place where he could display the goods he
had brought with him.
One day a stranger came through the bazaar and stopped to admire the
beauty of the things Ali had for sale.
"It is a pity," said the stranger, "that you should not go to Cairo.
You could go there at no great expense, and I feel assured that you
would receive a far better price for your goods there than here. I
know, for I have lived in that city all my life, and I am familiar
with the prices that are paid for such fine merchandise as yours." The
stranger talked with Ali for some time and then passed on his way.
After he had gone the merchant meditated upon what had been said, and
he finally determined to follow the stranger's advice and to take such
goods as he had left to Cairo, and place them on sale there. This he
did and found that, as the stranger had promised, the prices he could
get there were much higher than those paid in Mecca.
While Ali Cogia was in Cairo he made the acquaintance of some people
who were about to journey down into Egypt by caravan. They urged Ali
to join them, and after some persuasion he consented to do so, as he
had always wished to see that country. From Egypt Ali Cogia journeyed
to Constantinople, and then on to other cities and countries. Time
flew by so rapidly that when, finally, Ali stopped to reckon up how
long it was since he had left Bagdad, he found that seven years had
elapsed.
He now determined to return without delay to his own city. He found a
camel that suited him, and having bought it he packed upon it such
goods as he had left, and set out for Bagdad.
Now all the while that Ali Cogia had been travelling from place to
place the jar containing the gold pieces had rested undisturbed and
forgotten in Abul Hassan's warehouse. Abul and his wife sometimes
talked of Ali and wondered when he would return and how he had fared
upon his journey. They were surprised at his long absence and feared
some misfortune might have come upon him. At one time there was a
rumor that he was dead, but this rumor was afterward denied.
Now the very day that Ali Cogia set out upon his return journey Abul
Hassan and his wife were seated at the table at their evening meal,
and their talk turned upon the subject of olives.
"It is a long time since we have had any in the house," said the wife.
"Indeed, I do not remember when I last tasted one, and yet it is my
favorite fruit. I wish we had some now."
"Yes, we must get some," said Abul Hassan. "And by the way, that
reminds me of the jar that Ali Cogia left with us. I wonder whether
the olives in it are still good. They have been there for some years
now."
"Yes, for seven years," replied his wife. "No doubt they are all
spoiled by this time."
"That I will see," said Abul Hassan, rising and taking up a light. "If
they are still good we might as well have some, for I do not believe
Ali Cogia will ever return to claim the jar."
His wife was horrified. "What are you thinking of?" cried she. "Ali
Cogia entrusted this jar to you, and you gave your word that it would
not be disturbed until he came again to claim it. We heard, indeed,
that he was dead, but this rumor was afterward denied. What opinion
would he have of you if he returned and found you had helped yourself
to his olives?"