It did not take her long to reach the bridge which led to the city,

and she took up her position on the spot where she had first seen the

head, and called loudly 'Ali! Ali! Ali.' In an instant a negro

appeared before her, of such a huge size that the old woman was half

frightened; but his voice was mild and gentle as he said: 'What is it

that you want?'

'Your master bids you level the hill that stands in front of the

sultan's palace and in its place to make the most beautiful garden in

the world.'

'Tell my master he shall be obeyed,' replied Ali; 'it shall be done

this moment.' And the old woman went home and gave Ali's message to

the head.

Meanwhile the sultan was in his palace waiting till the fortieth day

should dawn, and wondering that not one spadeful of earth should have

been dug out of the hill.

'If that old woman has been playing me a trick,' thought he, 'I will

hang her! And I will put up a gallows to-morrow on the hill itself.'

But when to-morrow came there was no hill, and when the sultan opened

his eyes he could not imagine why the room was so much lighter than

usual, and what was the reason of the sweet smell of flowers that

filled the air.

'Can there be a fire?' he said to himself; 'the sun never came in at

this window before. I must get up and see.' So he rose and looked out,

and underneath him flowers from every part of the world were

blooming, and creepers of every colour hung in chains from tree to

tree.

Then he remembered. 'Certainly that old woman's son is a clever

magician!' cried he; 'I never met anyone as clever as that. What shall

I give him to do next? Let me think. Ah! I know.' And he sent for the

old woman, who by the orders of the head, was waiting below.

'Your son has carried out my wishes very nicely,' he said. 'The garden

is larger and better than that of any other king. But when I walk

across it I shall need some place to rest on the other side. In forty

days he must build me a palace, in which every room shall be filled

with different furniture from a different country, and each more

magnificent than any room that ever was seen.' And having said this he

turned round and went away.

'Oh! he will never be able to do that,' thought she; 'it is much more

difficult than the hill.' And she walked home slowly, with her head

bent.

'Well, what am I to do next?' asked the head cheerfully. And the old

woman told her story.

'Dear me! is that all? why it is child's play,' answered the head; and

troubled no more about the palace for thirty-nine days. Then he told

the old woman to go to the bridge and call for Hassan.

'What do you want, old woman?' asked Hassan, when he appeared, for he

was not as polite as the others had been.

'Your master commands you to build the most magnificent palace that

ever was seen,' replied she; 'and you are to place it on the borders

of the new garden.'

'He shall be obeyed,' answered Hassan. And when the sultan woke he

saw, in the distance, a palace built of soft blue marble, resting on

slender pillars of pure gold.

'That old woman's son is certainly all-powerful,' cried he; 'what

shall I bid him do now?' And after thinking some time he sent for

the old woman, who was expecting the summons.

[Illustration: THE PRINCESS SEES THE MAGIC HEAD]

'The garden is wonderful, and the palace the finest in the world,'

said he, 'so fine, that my servants would cut but a sorry figure in

it. Let your son fill it with forty slaves whose beauty shall be

unequalled, all exactly like each other, and of the same height.'

This time the king thought he had invented something totally

impossible, and was quite pleased with himself for his cleverness.

Thirty-nine days passed, and at midnight on the night of the last the

old woman was standing on the bridge.

'Bekir! Bekir! Bekir!' cried she. And a negro appeared, and inquired

what she wanted.

'The head, your master, bids you find forty slaves of unequalled

beauty, and of the same height, and place them in the sultan's palace

on the other side of the garden.'

And when, on the morning of the fortieth day, the sultan went to the

blue palace, and was received by the forty slaves, he nearly lost his

wits from surprise.

'I will assuredly give my daughter to the old woman's son,' thought

he. 'If I were to search all the world through I could never find a

more powerful son-in-law.'

And when the old woman entered his presence he informed her that he

was ready to fulfil his promise, and she was to bid her son appear at

the palace without delay.

This command did not at all please the old woman, though, of course,

she made no objections to the sultan.

'All has gone well so far,' she grumbled, when she told her story to

the head, 'but what do you suppose the sultan will say, when he sees

his daughter's husband?'

'Never mind what he says! Put me on a silver dish and carry me to the

palace.'

So it was done, though the old woman's heart beat as she laid down the

dish with the head upon it.

At the sight before him the king flew into a violent rage.

'I will never marry my daughter to such a monster,' he cried. But the

princess placed her hand gently on his arm.

'You have given your word, my father, and you cannot break it,' said

she.

'But, my child, it is impossible for you to marry such a being,'

exclaimed the sultan.

'Yes, I will marry him. He has a beautiful head, and I love him

already.'

So the marriage was celebrated, and great feasts were held in the

palace, though the people wept tears to think of the sad fate of their

beloved princess. But when the merry-making was done, and the young

couple were alone, the head suddenly disappeared, or, rather, a body

was added to it, and one of the handsomest young men that ever was

seen stood before the princess.

'A wicked fairy enchanted me at my birth,' he said, 'and for the rest

of the world I must always be a head only. But for you, and you only,

I am a man like other men.'

'And that is all I care about,' said the princess.

[_Traditions populaires de toutes les nations (Asie Mineure)._]

_THE SISTER OF THE SUN_

A long time ago there lived a young prince whose favourite playfellow

was the son of the gardener who lived in the grounds of the palace.

The king would have preferred his choosing a friend from the pages who

were brought up at court; but the prince would have nothing to say to

them, and as he was a spoilt child, and allowed his way in all things,

and the gardener's boy was quiet and well-behaved, he was suffered to

be in the palace, morning, noon, and night.

The game the children loved the best was a match at archery, for the

king had given them two bows exactly alike, and they would spend whole

days in trying to see which could shoot the highest. This is always

very dangerous, and it was a great wonder they did not put their eyes

out; but somehow or other they managed to escape.

One morning, when the prince had done his lessons, he ran out to call

his friend, and they both hurried off to the lawn which was their

usual playground. They took their bows out of the little hut where

their toys were kept, and began to see which could shoot the highest.

At last they happened to let fly their arrows both together, and when

they fell to earth again the tail feather of a golden hen was found

sticking in one. Now the question began to arise whose was the lucky

arrow, for they were both alike, and look as closely as you would you

could see no difference between them. The prince declared that the

arrow was his, and the gardener's boy was quite sure it was

_his_--and on this occasion he was perfectly right; but, as they could

not decide the matter, they went straight to the king.

When the king had heard the story, he decided that the feather

belonged to his son; but the other boy would not listen to this and

claimed the feather for himself. At length the king's patience gave

way, and he said angrily:

'Very well; if you are so sure that the feather is yours, yours it

shall be; only you will have to seek till you find a golden hen with a

feather missing from her tail. And if you fail to find her your head

will be the forfeit.'

The boy had need of all his courage to listen silently to the king's

words. He had no idea where the golden hen might be, or even, if he

discovered that, how he was to get to her. But there was nothing for

it but to do the king's bidding, and he felt that the sooner he left

the palace the better. So he went home and put some food into a bag,

and then set forth, hoping that some accident might show him which

path to take.

After walking for several hours he met a fox, who seemed inclined to

be friendly, and the boy was so glad to have anyone to talk to that he

sat down and entered into conversation.

'Where are you going?' asked the fox.

'I have got to find a golden hen who has lost a feather out of her

tail,' answered the boy; 'but I don't know where she lives or how I

shall catch her!'

'Oh, I can show you the way!' said the fox, who was really very

good-natured. 'Far towards the east, in that direction, lives a

beautiful maiden who is called "The Sister of the Sun." She has three

golden hens in her house. Perhaps the feather belongs to one of them.'

The boy was delighted at this news, and they walked on all day

together, the fox in front, and the boy behind. When evening came they

lay down to sleep, and put the knapsack under their heads for a

pillow.

Suddenly, about midnight, the fox gave a low whine, and drew nearer

to his bedfellow. 'Cousin,' he whispered very low, 'there is someone

coming who will take the knapsack away from me. Look over there!' And

the boy, peeping through the bushes, saw a man.

'Oh, I don't think he will rob us!' said the boy; and when the man

drew near, he told them his story, which so much interested the

stranger that he asked leave to travel with them, as he might be of

some use. So when the sun rose they set out again, the fox in front as

before, the man and boy following.

After some hours they reached the castle of the Sister of the Sun, who

kept the golden hens among her treasures. They halted before the gate

and took counsel as to which of them should go in and see the lady

herself.

'I think it would be best for me to enter and steal the hens,' said

the fox; but this did not please the boy at all.

'No, it is my business, so it is right that I should go,' answered he.

'You will find it a very difficult matter to get hold of the hens,'

replied the fox.

'Oh, nothing is likely to happen to me,' returned the boy.

'Well, go then,' said the fox, 'but be careful not to make any

mistake. Steal only the hen which has the feather missing from her

tail, and leave the others alone.'

The man listened, but did not interfere, and the boy entered the court

of the palace.

He soon spied the three hens strutting proudly about, though they were

really anxiously wondering if there were not some grains lying on the

ground that they might be glad to eat. And as the last one passed by

him, he saw she had one feather missing from her tail.

At this sight the youth darted forward and seized the hen by the neck

so that she could not struggle. Then, tucking her comfortably under

his arm, he made straight for the gate. Unluckily, just as he was

about to go through it he looked back and caught a glimpse of

wonderful splendours from an open door of the palace. 'After all,

there is no hurry,' he said to himself; 'I may as well see something

now I _am_ here,' and turned back, forgetting all about the hen, which

escaped from under his arm, and ran to join her sisters.

He was so much fascinated by the sight of all the beautiful things

which peeped through the door that he scarcely noticed that he had

lost the prize he had won; and he did not remember there was such a

thing as a hen in the world when he beheld the Sister of the Sun

sleeping on a bed before him.

For some time he stood staring; then he came to himself with a start,

and feeling that he had no business there, softly stole away, and was

fortunate enough to recapture the hen, which he took with him to the

gate. On the threshold he stopped again. 'Why should I not look at the

Sister of the Sun?' he thought to himself; 'she is asleep, and will

never know.' And he turned back for the second time and entered the

chamber, while the hen wriggled herself free as before. When he had

gazed his fill he went out into the courtyard and picked up his hen

who was seeking for corn.

As he drew near the gate he paused. 'Why did I not give her a kiss?'

he said to himself; 'I shall never kiss any woman so beautiful.' And

he wrung his hands with regret, so that the hen fell to the ground and

ran away.

'But I can do it still!' he cried with delight, and he rushed back to

the chamber and kissed the sleeping maiden on the forehead. But, alas!

when he came out again he found that the hen had grown so shy that she

would not let him come near her. And, worse than that, her sisters

began to cluck so loud that the Sister of the Sun was awakened by the

noise. She jumped up in haste from her bed, and going to the door she

said to the boy:

'You shall never, never, have my hen till you bring me back my

sister who was carried off by a giant to his castle, which is a long

way off.'

[Illustration: THE GOLDEN HEN WILL NOT BE CAUGHT]

Slowly and sadly the youth left the palace and told his story to his

friends, who were waiting outside the gate, how he had actually held

the hen three times in his arms and had lost her.

'I knew that we should not get off so easily,' said the fox, shaking

his head; 'but there is no more time to waste. Let us set off at once

in search of the sister. Luckily, I know the way.'

They walked on for many days, till at length the fox, who, as usual,

was going first, stopped suddenly.

'The giant's castle is not far now,' he said, 'but when we reach it

you two must remain outside while I go and fetch the princess.

Directly I bring her out you must both catch hold of her tight, and

get away as fast as you can; while I return to the castle and talk to

the giants--for there are many of them--so that they may not notice

the escape of the princess.'

A few minutes later they arrived at the castle, and the fox, who had

often been there before, slipped in without difficulty. There were

several giants, both young and old, in the hall, and they were all

dancing round the princess. As soon as they saw the fox they cried

out: 'Come and dance too, old fox; it is a long time since we have

seen you.'

So the fox stood up, and did his steps with the best of them; but

after a while he stopped and said:

'I know a charming new dance that I should like to show you; but it

can only be done by two people. If the princess will honour me for a

few minutes, you will soon see how it is done.'

'Ah, that is delightful; we want something new,' answered they, and

placed the princess between the outstretched arms of the fox. In one

instant he had knocked over the great stand of lights that lighted the

hall, and in the darkness had borne the princess to the gate. His

comrades seized hold of her, as they had been bidden, and the fox was

back again in the hall before anyone had missed him. He found the

giants busy trying to kindle a fire and get some light; but after a

bit someone cried out:

'Where is the princess?'

'Here, in my arms,' replied the fox. 'Don't be afraid; she is quite

safe.' And he waited until he thought that his comrades had gained a

good start, and put at least five or six mountains between themselves

and the giants. Then he sprang through the door, calling, as he went:

'The maiden is here; take her if you can!'

At these words the giants understood that their prize had escaped, and

they ran after the fox as fast as their great legs could carry them,

thinking that they should soon come up with the fox, who they supposed

had the princess on his back. The fox, on his side, was far too clever

to choose the same path that his friends had taken, but wound in and

out of the forest, till at last even _he_ was tired out, and fell fast

asleep under a tree. Indeed, he was so exhausted with his day's work

that he never heard the approach of the giants, and their hands were

already stretched out to seize his tail when his eyes opened, and with

a tremendous bound he was once more beyond their reach. All the rest

of the night the fox ran and ran; but when bright red spread over the

east, he stopped and waited till the giants were close upon him. Then

he turned, and said quietly: 'Look, there is the Sister of the Sun!'

The giants raised their eyes all at once, and were instantly turned

into pillars of stone. The fox then made each pillar a low bow, and

set off to join his friends.

He knew a great many short cuts across the hills, so it was not long

before he came up with them, and all four travelled night and day till

they reached the castle of the Sister of the Sun. What joy and

feasting there was throughout the palace at the sight of the princess

whom they had mourned as dead! and they could not make enough of the

boy who had gone through such dangers in order to rescue her. The

golden hen was given to him at once, and, more than that, the Sister

of the Sun told him that, in a little time, when he was a few years

older, she would herself pay a visit to his home and become his wife.

The boy could hardly believe his ears when he heard what was in store

for him, for this was the most beautiful princess in all the world;

and however thick the darkness might be, it fled away at once from the

light of a star on her forehead.

So the boy set forth on his journey home, with his friends for

company; his heart full of gladness when he thought of the promise of

the princess. But, one by one, his comrades dropped off at the places

where they had first met him, and he was quite alone when he reached

his native town and the gates of the palace. With the golden hen under

his arm he presented himself before the king, and told his adventures,

and how he was going to have for a wife a princess so wonderful and

unlike all other princesses, that the star on her forehead could turn

night into day. The king listened silently, and when the boy had done,

he said quietly: 'If I find that your story is not true I will have

you thrown into a cask of pitch.'

'It is true--every word of it,' answered the boy; and went on to tell

that the day and even the hour were fixed when his bride was to come

and seek him.

But as the time drew near, and nothing was heard of the princess, the

youth became anxious and uneasy, especially when it came to his ears

that the great cask was being filled with pitch, and that sticks were

laid underneath to make a fire to boil it with. All day long the boy

stood at the window, looking over the sea by which the princess must

travel; but there were no signs of her, not even the tiniest white

sail. And, as he stood, soldiers came and laid hands on him, and led

him up to the cask, where a big fire was blazing, and the horrid black

pitch boiling and bubbling over the sides. He looked and shuddered,

but there was no escape; so he shut his eyes to avoid seeing.

The word was given for him to mount the steps which led to the top of

the cask, when, suddenly, some men were seen running with all their

might, crying as they went that a large ship with its sails spread was

making straight for the city. No one knew what the ship was, or whence

it came; but the king declared that he would not have the boy burned

before its arrival, there would always be time enough for that.

At length the vessel was safe in port, and a whisper went through the

watching crowd that on board was the Sister of the Sun, who had come

to marry the young peasant, as she had promised. In a few moments more

she had landed, and desired to be shown the way to the cottage which

her bridegroom had so often described to her; and whither he had been

led back by the king's order at the first sign of the ship.

'Don't you know me?' asked the Sister of the Sun, bending over him

where he lay, almost driven out of his senses with terror.

'No, no; I don't know you,' answered the youth, without raising his

eyes.

'Kiss me,' said the Sister of the Sun; and the youth obeyed her, but

still without looking up.

'Don't you know me _now_?' asked she.

'No, I don't know you--I don't know you,' he replied, with the manner

of a man whom fear had driven mad.

At this the Sister of the Sun grew rather frightened, and beginning at

the beginning, she told him the story of his meeting with her, and how

she had come a long way in order to marry him. And just as she had

finished in walked the king, to see if what the boy had said was

really true. But hardly had he opened the door of the cottage when he

was almost blinded by the light that filled it; and he remembered what

he had been told about the star on the forehead of the princess. He

staggered back as if he had been struck, then a curious feeling took

hold of him, which he had never felt before, and falling on his knees

before the Sister of the Sun he implored her to give up all thought of

the peasant boy, and to share his throne. But she only laughed, and

said she had a finer throne of her own, if she wanted to sit on it,

and that she was free to please herself, and would have no husband but

the boy whom she would never have seen except for the king himself.

[Illustration: THE KING FALLS IN LOVE WITH THE SISTER OF THE SUN]

'I shall marry him to-morrow,' ended she; and ordered the

preparations to be set on foot at once.

When the next day came, however, the bridegroom's father informed the

princess that, by the law of the land, the marriage must take place in

the presence of the king; but he hoped his majesty would not long

delay his arrival. An hour or two passed, and everyone was waiting and

watching, when at last the sound of trumpets was heard and a grand

procession was seen marching up the street. A chair covered with

velvet had been made ready for the king, and he took his seat upon it,

and, looking round upon the assembled company, he said:

'I have no wish to forbid this marriage; but, before I can allow it to

be celebrated, the bridegroom must prove himself worthy of such a

bride by fulfilling three tasks. And the first is that in a single day

he must cut down every tree in an entire forest.'

The youth stood aghast at the king's words. He had never cut down a

tree in his life, and had not the least idea how to begin. And as for

a whole forest----! But the princess saw what was passing in his mind,

and whispered to him:

'Don't be afraid. In my ship you will find an axe, which you must

carry off to the forest. When you have cut down one tree with it just

say: "So let the forest fall," and in an instant all the trees will be

on the ground. But pick up three chips of the tree you have felled,

and put them in your pocket.'

And the young man did exactly as he was bid, and soon returned with

the three chips safe in his coat.

The following morning the princess declared that she had been thinking

about the matter, and that, as she was not a subject of the king, she

saw no reason why she should be bound by his laws; and she meant to be

married that very day. But the bridegroom's father told her that it

was all very well for her to talk like that, but it was quite

different for his son, who would pay with his head for any

disobedience to the king's commands. However, in consideration of what

the youth had done the day before, he hoped his majesty's heart might

be softened, especially as he had sent a message that they might

expect him at once. With this the bridal pair had to be content, and

be as patient as they could till the king's arrival.

He did not keep them long, but they saw by his face that nothing good

awaited them.

'The marriage cannot take place,' he said shortly, 'till the youth has

joined to their roots all the trees he cut down yesterday.'

This sounded much more difficult than what he had done before, and he

turned in despair to the Sister of the Sun.

'It is all right,' she whispered encouragingly. 'Take this water and

sprinkle it on one of the fallen trees, and say to it: "So let all the

trees of the forest stand upright," and in a moment they will be erect

again.'

And the young man did what he was told, and left the forest looking

exactly as it had done before.

Now, surely, thought the princess, there was no longer any need to put

off the wedding; and she gave orders that all should be ready for the

following day. But again the old man interfered, and declared that

without the king's permission no marriage could take place. For the

third time his majesty was sent for, and for the third time he

proclaimed that he could not give his consent until the bridegroom

should have slain a serpent which dwelt in a broad river that flowed

at the back of the castle. Everyone knew stories of this terrible

serpent, though no one had actually seen it; but from time to time a

child strayed from home and never came back, and then mothers would

forbid the other children to go near the river, which had juicy fruits

and lovely flowers growing along its banks.

So no wonder the youth trembled and turned pale when he heard what lay

before him.

'You will succeed in this also,' whispered the Sister of the Sun,

pressing his hand, 'for in my ship is a magic sword which will cut

through everything. Go down to the river and unfasten a boat which

lies moored there, and throw the chips into the water. When the

serpent rears up its body you will cut off its three heads with one

blow of your sword. Then take the tip of each tongue and go with it

to-morrow morning into the king's kitchen. If the king himself should

enter, just say to him: "Here are three gifts I offer you in return

for the services you demanded of me!" and throw the tips of the

serpent's tongues at him, and hasten to the ship as fast as your legs

will carry you. But be sure you take great care never to look behind

you.'

The young man did exactly what the princess had told him. The three

chips which he flung into the river became a boat, and, as he steered

across the stream, the serpent put up its head and hissed loudly. The

youth had his sword ready, and in another second the three heads were

bobbing on the water. Guiding his boat till he was beside them, he

stooped down and snipped off the ends of the tongues, and then rowed

back to the other bank. Next morning he carried them into the royal

kitchen, and when the king entered, as was his custom, to see what he

was going to have for dinner, the bridegroom flung them in his face,

saying: 'Here is a gift for you in return for the services you asked

of me.' And, opening the kitchen door, he fled to the ship. Unluckily

he missed the way, and in his excitement ran backwards and forwards,

without knowing whither he was going. At last, in despair, he looked

round, and saw to his amazement that both the city and palace had

vanished completely. Then he turned his eyes in the other direction

and, far, far away, he caught sight of the ship with her sails spread,

and a fair wind behind her.

This dreadful spectacle seemed to take away his senses, and all day

long he wandered about, without knowing where he was going, till, in

the evening, he noticed some smoke from a little hut of turf near by.

He went straight up to it and cried: 'O mother, let me come in for

pity's sake!' The old woman who lived in the hut beckoned to him to

enter, and hardly was he inside when he cried again: 'O mother, can

you tell me anything of the Sister of the Sun?'

But the old woman only shook her head. 'No, I know nothing of her,'

said she.

The young man turned to leave the hut, but the old woman stopped him,

and, giving him a letter, begged him to carry it to her next eldest

sister, saying: 'If you should get tired on the way, take out the

letter and rustle the paper.'

This advice surprised the young man a good deal, as he did not see how

it could help him; but he did not answer, and went down the road

without knowing where he was going. At length he grew so tired he

could walk no more; then he remembered what the old woman had said.

After he had rustled the leaves only once all fatigue disappeared, and

he strode gaily over the grass till he came to another little turf

hut.

'Let me in, I pray you, dear mother,' cried he. And the door opened in

front of him. 'Your sister has sent you this letter,' he said, and

added quickly: 'O mother! can you tell me anything of the Sister of

the Sun?'

'No, I know nothing of her,' answered she. But as he turned hopelessly

away, she stopped him.

'If you happen to pass my eldest sister's house, will you give her

this letter?' said she. 'And if you should get tired on the road, just

take it out of your pocket and rustle the paper.'

So the young man put the letter in his pocket, and walked all day over

the hills till he reached a little turf hut, exactly like the other

two.

'Let me in, I pray you, dear mother,' cried he. And as he entered he

added: 'Here is a letter from your sister, and--can you tell me

anything of the Sister of the Sun?'

'Yes, I can,' answered the old woman. 'She lives in the castle on the

Banka. Her father lost a battle only a few days ago because you had

stolen his sword from him, and the Sister of the Sun herself is almost

dead of grief. But, when you see her, stick a pin into the palm of her

hand, and suck the drops of blood that flow. Then she will grow

calmer, and will know you again. Only, beware; for before you reach

the castle on the Banka fearful things will happen.'

He thanked the old woman with tears of gladness for the good news she

had given him, and continued his journey. But he had not gone very far

when, at a turn of the road, he met with two brothers, who were

quarrelling over a piece of cloth.

'My good men, what are you fighting about?' said he. 'That cloth does

not look worth much!'

'Oh, it is ragged enough,' answered they, 'but it was left us by our

father, and if any man wraps it round him no one can see him; and we

each want it for our own.'

'Let me put it round me for a moment,' said the youth, 'and then I

will tell you whose it ought to be!'

The brothers were pleased with this idea, and gave him the stuff; but

the moment he had thrown it over his shoulder he disappeared as

completely as if he had never been there at all.

Meanwhile the young man walked briskly along, till he came up with two

other men, who were disputing over a table-cloth.

'What is the matter?' asked he, stopping in front of them.

'If this cloth is spread on a table,' answered they, 'the table is

instantly covered with the most delicious food; and we each want to

have it.'

'Let me try the table-cloth,' said the youth, 'and I will tell you

whose it ought to be.'

The two men were quite pleased with this idea, and handed him the

cloth. He then hastily threw the first piece of stuff round his

shoulders and vanished from sight, leaving the two men grieving over

their own folly.

The young man had not walked far before he saw two more men standing

by the road-side, both grasping the same stout staff, and sometimes

one seemed on the point of getting it, and sometimes the other.

'What are you quarrelling about? You could cut a dozen sticks from the

wood each just as good as that!' said the young man. And as he spoke

the fighters both stopped and looked at him.

'Ah! you may think so,' said one, 'but a blow from one end of this

stick will kill a man, while a touch from the other end will bring him

back to life. You won't easily find another stick like that!'

'No; that is true,' answered the young man. 'Let me just look at it,

and I will tell you whose it ought to be.'

The men were pleased with the idea, and handed him the staff.

'It is very curious, certainly,' said he; 'but which end is it that

restores people to life? After all, anyone can be killed by a blow

from a stick if it is only hard enough!' But when he was shown the end

he threw the stuff over his shoulders and vanished.

At last he saw another set of men, who were struggling for the

possession of a pair of shoes.

'Why can't you leave that pair of old shoes alone?' said he. 'Why, you

could not walk a yard in them!'

'Yes, they are old enough,' answered they; 'but whoever puts them on

and wishes himself at a particular place, gets there without going.'

'That sounds very clever,' said the youth. 'Let me try them, and then

I shall be able to tell you whose they ought to be.'

The idea pleased the men, and they handed him the shoes; but the

moment they were on his feet he cried:

'I wish to be in the castle on the Banka!' And before he knew it, he

was there, and found the Sister of the Sun dying of grief. He knelt

down by her side, and pulling out a pin he stuck it into the palm of

her hand, so that a drop of blood gushed out. This he sucked, as he

had been told to do by the old woman, and immediately the princess

came to herself, and flung her arms round his neck. Then she told him

all her story, and what had happened since the ship had sailed away

without him. 'But the worst misfortune of all,' she added, 'was a

battle which my father lost because you had vanished with his magic

sword; and out of his whole army hardly one man was left.'

'Show me the battle-field,' said he. And she took him to a wild heath,

where the dead were lying as they fell, waiting for burial. One by one

he touched them with the end of his staff, till at length they all

stood before him. Throughout the kingdom there was nothing but joy;

and _this_ time the wedding was _really_ celebrated. And the bridal

pair lived happily in the castle on the Banka till they died.

[_Lappländische Mährchen._]

_THE PRINCE AND THE THREE FATES_

Once upon a time a little boy was born to a king who ruled over a

great country through which ran a wide river. The king was nearly

beside himself with joy, for he had always longed for a son to inherit

his crown, and he sent messages to beg all the most powerful fairies

to come and see this wonderful baby. In an hour or two, so many were

gathered round the cradle, that the child seemed in danger of being

smothered; but the king, who was watching the fairies eagerly, was

disturbed to see them looking grave. 'Is there anything the matter?'

he asked anxiously.

The fairies looked at him, and all shook their heads at once.

'He is a beautiful boy, and it is a great pity; but what _is_ to

happen _will_ happen,' said they. 'It is written in the books of fate

that he must die, either by a crocodile, or a serpent, or by a dog. If

we could save him we would; but that is beyond our power.'

And so saying they vanished.

For a time the king stood where he was, horror-stricken at what he had

heard; but, being of a hopeful nature, he began at once to invent

plans to save the prince from the dreadful doom that awaited him. He

instantly sent for his master builder, and bade him construct a strong

castle on the top of a mountain, which should be fitted with the most

precious things from the king's own palace, and every kind of toy a

child could wish to play with. And, besides, he gave the strictest

orders that a guard should walk round the castle night and day.

For four or five years the baby lived in the castle alone with his

nurses, taking his airings on the broad terraces, which were

surrounded by walls, with a moat beneath them, and only a drawbridge

to connect them with the outer world.

One day, when the prince was old enough to run quite fast by himself,

he looked from the terrace across the moat, and saw a little soft

fluffy ball of a dog jumping and playing on the other side. Now, of

course, all dogs had been kept from him for fear that the fairies'

prophecy should come true, and he had never even beheld one before. So

he turned to the page who was walking behind him, and said:

'What is that funny little thing which is running so fast over there?'

'That is a dog, prince,' answered the page.

'Well, bring me one like it, and we will see which can run the

faster.' And he watched the dog till it had disappeared round the

corner.

The page was much puzzled to know what to do. He had strict orders to

refuse the prince nothing; yet he remembered the prophecy, and felt

that this was a serious matter. At last he thought he had better tell

the king the whole story, and let him decide the question.

'Oh, get him a dog if he wants one,' said the king, 'he will only cry

his heart out if he does not have it.' So a puppy was found, exactly

like the other; they might have been twins, and perhaps they were.

Years went by, and the boy and the dog played together till the boy

grew tall and strong. The time came at last when he sent a message to

his father, saying:

'Why do you keep me shut up here, doing nothing? I know all about the

prophecy that was made at my birth, but I would far rather be killed

at once than live an idle, useless life here. So give me arms, and let

me go, I pray you; me and my dog too.'

And again the king listened to his wishes, and he and his dog were

carried in a ship to the other side of the river, which was so broad

here it might almost have been the sea. A black horse was waiting for

him, tied to a tree, and he mounted and rode away wherever his fancy

took him, the dog always at his heels. Never was any prince so happy

as he, and he rode and rode till at length he came to a king's palace.

The king who lived in it did not care about looking after his country,

and seeing that his people lived cheerful and contented lives. He

spent his whole time in making riddles, and inventing plans which he

had much better have let alone. At the period when the young prince

reached the kingdom he had just completed a wonderful house for his

only child, a daughter. It had seventy windows, each seventy feet from

the ground, and he had sent the royal herald round the borders of the

neighbouring kingdoms to proclaim that whoever could climb up the

walls to the window of the princess should win her for his wife.

The fame of the princess's beauty had spread far and wide, and there

was no lack of princes who wished to try their fortune. Very funny the

palace must have looked each morning, with the dabs of different

colour on the white marble as the princes were climbing up the walls.

But though some managed to get further than others, nobody was

anywhere near the top.

They had already been spending several days in this manner when the

young prince arrived, and as he was pleasant to look upon, and civil

to talk to, they welcomed him to the house which had been given to

them, and saw that his bath was properly perfumed after his long

journey. 'Where do you come from?' they said at last. 'And whose son

are you?'

But the young prince had reasons for keeping his own secret, and he

answered:

'My father was master of the horse to the king of my country, and

after my mother died he married another wife. At first all went well,

but as soon as she had babies of her own she hated me, and I fled,

lest she should do me harm.'

The hearts of the other young men were touched as soon as they heard

this story, and they did everything they could think of to make him

forget his past sorrows.

'What are you doing here?' said the youth, one day.

'We spend our whole time climbing up the walls of the palace, trying

to reach the windows of the princess,' answered the young men; 'but,

as yet, no one has reached within ten feet of them.'

'Oh, let me try too,' cried the prince; 'but to-morrow I will wait and

see what you do before I begin.'

So the next day he stood where he could watch the young men go up, and

he noted the places on the wall that seemed most difficult, and made

up his mind that when his turn came he would go up some other way.

Day after day he was to be seen watching the wooers, till, one

morning, he felt that he knew the plan of the walls by heart, and took

his place by the side of the others. Thanks to what he had learned

from the failure of the rest, he managed to grasp one little rough

projection after another, till at last, to the envy of his friends, he

stood on the sill of the princess's window. Looking up from below,

they saw a white hand stretched forth to draw him in.

Then one of the young men ran straight to the king's palace, and said:

'The wall has been climbed, and the prize is won!'

'By whom?' cried the king, starting up from his throne; 'which of the

princes may I claim as my son-in-law?'

'The youth who succeeded in climbing to the princess's window is not a

prince at all,' answered the young man. 'He is the son of the master

of the horse to the great king who dwells across the river, and he

fled from his own country to escape from the hatred of his

stepmother.'

At this news the king was very angry, for it had never entered his

head that anyone _but_ a prince would seek to woo his daughter.

'Let him go back to the land whence he came,' he shouted in wrath;

'does he expect me to give my daughter to an exile?' And he began to

smash the drinking vessels in his fury; indeed, he quite frightened

the young man, who ran hastily home to his friends, and told the youth

what the king had said.

Now the princess, who was leaning from her window, heard his words and

bade the messenger go back to the king her father and tell him that

she had sworn a vow never to eat or drink again if the youth was taken

from her. The king was more angry than ever when he received this

message, and ordered his guards to go at once to the palace and put

the successful wooer to death; but the princess threw herself between

him and his murderers.

'Lay a finger on him, and I shall be dead before sunset,' said she;

and as they saw that she meant it, they left the palace, and carried

the tale to her father.

By this time the king's anger was dying away, and he began to consider

what his people would think of him if he broke the promise he had

publicly given. So he ordered the princess to be brought before him,

and the young man also, and when they entered the throne room he was

so pleased with the noble air of the victor that his wrath quite

melted away, and he ran to him and embraced him.

'Tell me who you are?' he asked, when he had recovered himself a

little, 'for I will never believe that you have not royal blood in

your veins.'

But the prince still had his reasons for being silent, and only told

the same story. However, the king had taken such a fancy to the youth

that he said no more, and the marriage took place the following day,

and great herds of cattle and a large estate were given to the young

couple.

* * * * *

After a little while the prince said to his wife: 'My life is in the

hands of three creatures--a crocodile, a serpent, and a dog.'

'Ah, how rash you are!' cried the princess, throwing her arms round

his neck. 'If you know that, how can you have that horrid beast about

you? I will give orders to have him killed at once.'

But the prince would not listen to her.

'Kill my dear little dog, who has been my playfellow since he was a

puppy?' exclaimed he. 'Oh, never would I allow that.' And all that the

princess could get from him was that he would always wear a sword, and

have somebody with him when he left the palace.

When the prince and princess had been married a few months, the prince

heard that his stepmother was dead, and his father was old and ill,

and longing to have his eldest son by his side again. The young man

could not remain deaf to such a message, and he took a tender farewell

of his wife, and set out on his journey home. It was a long way, and

he was forced to rest often on the road, and so it happened that, one

night, when he was sleeping in a city on the banks of the great river,

a huge crocodile came silently up and made its way along a passage to

the prince's room. Fortunately one of his guards woke up as it was

trying to steal past them, and shut the crocodile up in a large hall,

where a giant watched over it, never leaving the spot except during

the night, when the crocodile slept. And this went on for more than a

month.

[Illustration: THE PRINCESS AND THE SNAKE]

Now, when the prince found that he was not likely to leave his

father's kingdom again, he sent for his wife, and bade the messenger

tell her that he would await her coming in the town on the banks of

the great river. This was the reason why he delayed his journey so

long, and narrowly escaped being eaten by the crocodile. During the

weeks that followed the prince amused himself as best he could, though

he counted the minutes to the arrival of the princess, and when she

did come, he at once prepared to start for the court. That very night,

however, while he was asleep, the princess noticed something strange

in one of the corners of the room. It was a dark patch, and seemed, as

she looked, to grow longer and longer, and to be moving slowly towards

the cushions on which the prince was lying. She shrank in terror, but,

slight as was the noise, the thing heard it, and raised its head to

listen. Then she saw it was the long flat head of a serpent, and the

recollection of the prophecy rushed into her mind. Without waking her

husband, she glided out of bed, and taking up a heavy bowl of milk

which stood on a table, laid it on the floor in the path of the

serpent--for she knew that no serpent in the world can resist milk.

She held her breath as the snake drew near, and watched it throw up

its head again as if it was smelling something nice, while its forky

tongue darted out greedily. At length its eyes fell upon the milk, and

in an instant it was lapping it so fast that it was a wonder the

creature did not choke, for it never took its head from the bowl as

long as a drop was left in it. After that it dropped on the ground and

slept heavily. This was what the princess had been waiting for, and,

catching up her husband's sword, she severed the snake's head from its

body.

The morning after this adventure the prince and princess set out for

the king's palace, but found, when they reached it, that he was

already dead. They gave him a magnificent burial, and then the prince

had to examine the new laws which had been made in his absence, and do

a great deal of business besides, till he grew quite ill from fatigue,

and was obliged to go away to one of his palaces on the banks of the

river, in order to rest. Here he soon got better, and began to hunt,

and to shoot wild duck with his bow; and wherever he went, his dog,

now grown very old, went with him.

One morning the prince and his dog were out as usual, and in chasing

their game they drew near the bank of the river. The prince was

running at full speed after his dog when he almost fell over something

that looked like a log of wood, which was lying in his path. To his

surprise a voice spoke to him, and he saw that the thing which he had

taken for a branch was really a crocodile.

'You cannot escape from me,' it was saying, when he had gathered his

senses again. 'I am your fate, and wherever you go, and whatever you

do, you will always find me before you. There is only one means of

shaking off my power. If you can dig a pit in the dry sand which will

remain full of water, my spell will be broken. If not death will come

to you speedily. I give you this one chance. Now go.'

The young man walked sadly away, and when he reached the palace he

shut himself into his room, and for the rest of the day refused to see

anyone, not even his wife. At sunset, however, as no sound could be

heard through the door, the princess grew quite frightened, and made

such a noise that the prince was forced to draw back the bolt and let

her come in. 'How pale you look,' she cried, 'has anything hurt you?

Tell me, I pray you, what is the matter, for perhaps I can help!'

So the prince told her the whole story, and of the impossible task

given him by the crocodile.

'How can a sand hole remain full of water?' asked he. 'Of course it

will all run through. The crocodile called it a "chance"; but he might

as well have dragged me into the river at once. He said truly that I

cannot escape him.'

'Oh, if _that_ is all,' cried the princess, 'I can set you free

myself, for my fairy godmother taught me to know the use of plants and

in the desert not far from here there grows a little four-leaved herb

which will keep the water in the pit for a whole year. I will go in

search of it at dawn, and you can begin to dig the hole as soon as you

like.'

To comfort her husband, the princess had spoken lightly and gaily; but

she knew very well she had no light task before her. Still, she was

full of courage and energy, and determined that, one way or another,

her husband should be saved.

It was still starlight when she left the palace on a snow-white

donkey, and rode away from the river straight to the west. For some

time she could see nothing before her but a flat waste of sand, which

became hotter and hotter as the sun rose higher and higher. Then a

dreadful thirst seized her and the donkey, but there was no stream to

quench it, and if there had been she would hardly have had time to

stop, for she still had far to go, and must be back before evening, or

else the crocodile might declare that the prince had not fulfilled his

conditions. So she spoke cheering words to her donkey, who brayed in

reply, and the two pushed steadily on.

Oh! how glad they both were when they caught sight of a tall rock in

the distance. They forgot that they were thirsty, and that the sun was

hot; and the ground seemed to fly under their feet, till the donkey

stopped of its own accord in the cool shadow. But though the donkey

might rest the princess could not, for the plant, as she knew, grew on

the very top of the rock, and a wide chasm ran round the foot of it.

Luckily she had brought a rope with her, and making a noose at one

end, she flung it across with all her might. The first time it slid

back slowly into the ditch, and she had to draw it up, and throw it

again, but at length the noose caught on something, the princess could

not see what, and had to trust her whole weight to this little bridge,

which might snap and let her fall deep down among the rocks. And in

that case her death was as certain as that of the prince.

But nothing so dreadful happened. The princess got safely to the

other side, and then became the worst part of her task. As fast as she

put her foot on a ledge of the rock the stone broke away from under

her, and left her in the same place as before. Meanwhile the hours

were passing, and it was nearly noon.

The heart of the poor princess was filled with despair, but she would

not give up the struggle. She looked round till she saw a small stone

above her which seemed rather stronger than the rest, and by only

poising her foot lightly on those that lay between, she managed by a

great effort to reach it. In this way, with torn and bleeding hands,

she gained the top; but here such a violent wind was blowing that she

was almost blinded with dust, and was obliged to throw herself on the

ground, and feel about after the precious herb.

For a few terrible moments she thought that the rock was bare, and

that her journey had been to no purpose. Feel where she would, there

was nothing but grit and stones, when, suddenly, her fingers touched

something soft in a crevice. It was a plant, that was clear; but was

it the right one? See she could not, for the wind was blowing more

fiercely than ever, so she lay where she was and counted the leaves.

One, two, three--yes! yes! there were four! And plucking a leaf she

held it safe in her hand while she turned, almost stunned by the wind,

to go down the rock.

When once she was safely over the side all became still in a moment,

and she slid down the rock so fast that it was only a wonder that she

did not land in the chasm. However, by good luck, she stopped quite

close to her rope bridge and was soon across it. The donkey brayed

joyfully at the sight of her, and set off home at his best speed,

never seeming to know that the earth under his feet was nearly as hot

as the sun above him.

On the bank of the great river he halted, and the princess rushed up

to where the prince was standing by the pit he had digged in the dry

sand, with a huge water pot beside it. A little way off the crocodile

lay blinking in the sun, with his sharp teeth and whity-yellow jaws

wide open.

[Illustration: THE POOL IN THE SAND]

At a signal from the princess the prince poured the water in the hole,

and the moment it reached the brim the princess flung in the

four-leaved plant. Would the charm work, or would the water trickle

away slowly through the sand, and the prince fall a victim to that

horrible monster? For half an hour they stood with their eyes rooted

to the spot, but the hole remained as full as at the beginning, with

the little green leaf floating on the top. Then the prince turned with

a shout of triumph, and the crocodile sulkily plunged into the river.

The prince had escaped for ever the second of his three fates!

He stood there looking after the crocodile, and rejoicing that he was

free, when he was startled by a wild duck which flew past them,

seeking shelter among the rushes that bordered the edge of the stream.

In another instant his dog dashed by in hot pursuit, and knocked

heavily against his master's legs. The prince staggered, lost his

balance and fell backwards into the river, where the mud and the

rushes caught him and held him fast. He shrieked for help to his wife,

who came running; and luckily brought her rope with her. The poor old

dog was drowned, but the prince was pulled to shore. 'My wife,' he

said, 'has been stronger than my fate.'

[Adapted from _Les Contes Populaires de l'Egypte Ancienne_.]

_THE FOX AND THE LAPP_

Once upon a time a fox lay peeping out of his hole, watching the road

that ran by at a little distance, and hoping to see something that

might amuse him, for he was feeling very dull and rather cross. For a

long while he watched in vain; everything seemed asleep, and not even

a bird stirred overhead. The fox grew crosser than ever, and he was

just turning away in disgust from his place when he heard the sound of

feet coming over the snow. He crouched eagerly down at the edge of the

road and said to himself: 'I wonder what would happen if I were to

pretend to be dead! This is a man driving a reindeer sledge, I know

the tinkling of the harness. And at any rate I shall have an

adventure, and that is always something!'

So he stretched himself out by the side of the road, carefully

choosing a spot where the driver could not help seeing him, yet where

the reindeer would not tread on him; and all fell out just as he had

expected. The sledge-driver pulled up sharply, as his eyes lighted on

the beautiful animal lying stiffly beside him, and jumping out he

threw the fox into the bottom of the sledge, where the goods he was

carrying were bound tightly together by ropes. The fox did not move a

muscle though his bones were sore from the fall, and the driver got

back to his seat again and drove on merrily.

But before they had gone very far, the fox, who was near the edge,

contrived to slip over, and when the Laplander saw him stretched out

on the snow he pulled up his reindeer and put the fox into one of the

other sledges that was fastened behind, for it was market-day at the

nearest town, and the man had much to sell.

They drove on a little further, when some noise in the forest made the

man turn his head, just in time to see the fox fall with a heavy thump

on to the frozen snow. 'That beast is bewitched!' he said to himself,

and then he threw the fox into the last sledge of all, which had a

cargo of fishes. This was exactly what the cunning creature wanted,

and he wriggled gently to the front and bit the cord which tied the

sledge to the one before it so that it remained standing in the middle

of the road.

Now there were so many sledges that the Lapp did not notice for a long

while that one was missing; indeed, he would have entered the town

without knowing if snow had not suddenly begun to fall. Then he got

down to secure more firmly the cloths that kept his goods dry, and

going to the end of the long row, discovered that the sledge

containing the fish and the fox was missing. He quickly unharnessed

one of his reindeer and rode back along the way he had come, to find

the sledge standing safe in the middle of the road; but as the fox had

bitten off the cord close to the noose there was no means of moving it

away.

The fox meanwhile was enjoying himself mightily. As soon as he had

loosened the sledge, he had taken his favourite fish from among the

piles neatly arranged for sale, and had trotted off to the forest with

it in his mouth. By-and-by he met a bear, who stopped and said: 'Where

did you find that fish, Mr. Fox?'

'Oh, not far off,' answered he; 'I just stuck my tail in the stream

close by the place where the elves dwell, and the fish hung on to it

of itself.'

'Dear me,' snarled the bear, who was hungry and not in a good temper,

'if the fish hung on to your tail, I suppose he will hang on to mine.'

'Yes, certainly, grandfather,' replied the fox, 'if you have patience

to suffer what I suffered.'

'Of course I can,' replied the bear, 'what nonsense you talk! Show me

the way.'

So the fox led him to the bank of a stream, which, being in a warm

place, had only lightly frozen in places, and was at this moment

glittering in the spring sunshine.

'The elves bathe here,' he said, 'and if you put in your tail the fish

will catch hold of it. But it is no use being in a hurry, or you will

spoil everything.'

[Illustration: THE ELVES AND THE BEAR]

Then he trotted off, but only went out of sight of the bear, who stood

still on the bank with his tail deep in the water. Soon the sun set

and it grew very cold and the ice formed rapidly, and the bear's tail

was fixed as tight as if a vice had held it; and when the fox saw that

everything had happened just as he had planned it, he called out

loudly:

'Be quick, good people, and come with your bows and spears. A bear has

been fishing in your brook!'

And in a moment the whole place was full of little creatures each one

with a tiny bow and a spear hardly big enough for a baby; but both

arrows and spears could sting, as the bear knew very well, and in his

fright he gave such a tug to his tail that it broke short off, and he

rolled away into the forest as fast as his legs could carry him. At

this sight the fox held his sides for laughing, and then scampered

away in another direction. By-and-by he came to a fir tree, and crept

into a hole under the root. After that he did something very strange.

Taking one of his hind feet between his two front paws, he said

softly:

'What would you do, my foot, if someone was to betray me?'

'I would run so quickly that he should not catch you.'

'What would you do, mine ear, if someone was to betray me?'

'I would listen so hard that I should hear all his plans.'

'What would you do, my nose, if someone was to betray me?'

'I would smell so sharply that I should know from afar that he was

coming.'

'What would you do, my tail, if someone was to betray me?'

'I would steer you so straight a course that you would soon be beyond

his reach. Let us be off; I feel as if danger was near.'

But the fox was comfortable where he was, and did not hurry himself to

take his tail's advice. And before very long he found he was too late,

for the bear had come round by another path, and guessing where his

enemy was began to scratch at the roots of the tree. The fox made

himself as small as he could, but a scrap of his tail peeped out, and

the bear seized it and held it tight. Then the fox dug his claws into

the ground, but he was not strong enough to pull against the bear,

and slowly he was dragged forth and his body flung over the bear's

neck. In this manner they set out down the road, the fox's tail being

always in the bear's mouth.

After they had gone some way, they passed a tree-stump, on which a

bright coloured woodpecker was tapping.

'Ah! those were better times when I used to paint all the birds such

gay colours,' sighed the fox.

'What are you saying, old fellow?' asked the bear.

'I? Oh, I was saying nothing,' answered the fox drearily. 'Just carry

me to your cave and eat me up as quick as you can.'

The bear was silent, and thought of his supper; and the two continued

their journey till they reached another tree with a woodpecker tapping

on it.

'Ah! those were better times when I used to paint all the birds such

gay colours,' said the fox again to himself.

'Couldn't you paint me too?' asked the bear suddenly.

But the fox shook his head; for he was always acting, even if no one

was there to see him do it.

'You bear pain so badly,' he replied, in a thoughtful voice, 'and you

are impatient besides, and could never put up with all that is

necessary. Why, you would first have to dig a pit, and then twist

ropes of willow, and drive in posts and fill the hole with pitch, and,

last of all, set it on fire. Oh, no; you would never be able to do all

that.'

'It does not matter a straw how hard the work is,' answered the bear

eagerly, 'I will do it every bit.' And as he spoke he began tearing up

the earth so fast that soon a deep pit was ready, deep enough to hold

him.

'That is all right,' said the fox at last, 'I see I was mistaken in

you. Now sit here, and I will bind you.' So the bear sat down on the

edge of the pit, and the fox sprang on his back, which he crossed with

the willow ropes, and then set fire to the pitch. It burnt up in an

instant, and caught the bands of willow and the bear's rough hair; but

he did not stir, for he thought that the fox was rubbing the bright

colours into his skin, and that he would soon be as beautiful as a

whole meadow of flowers. But when the fire grew hotter still he moved

uneasily from one foot to the other, saying, imploringly: 'It is

getting rather warm, old man.' But all the answer he got was: 'I

thought you would never be able to suffer pain like those little

birds.'

The bear did not like being told that he was not as brave as a bird,

so he set his teeth and resolved to endure anything sooner than speak

again; but by this time the last willow band had burned through, and

with a push the fox sent his victim tumbling into the grass, and ran

off to hide himself in the forest. After a while he stole cautiously

and found, as he expected, nothing left but a few charred bones. These

he picked up and put in a bag, which he slung over his back.

By-and-by he met a Lapp driving his team of reindeer along the road,

and as he drew near, the fox rattled the bones gaily.

'That sounds like silver or gold,' thought the man to himself. And he

said politely to the fox:

'Good-day, friend! What have you got in your bag that makes such a

strange sound?'

'All the wealth my father left me,' answered the fox. 'Do you feel

inclined to bargain?'

'Well, I don't mind,' replied the Lapp, who was a prudent man, and did

not wish the fox to think him too eager; 'but show me first what money

you have got.'

'Ah, but I can't do that,' answered the fox, 'my bag is sealed up. But

if you will give me those three reindeer, you shall take it as it is,

with all its contents.'

The Lapp did not quite like it, but the fox spoke with such an air

that his doubts melted away. He nodded, and stretched out his hand;

the fox put the bag into it, and unharnessed the reindeer he had

chosen.

'Oh, I forgot!' he exclaimed, turning round, as he was about to drive

them in the opposite direction, 'you must be sure not to open the bag

until you have gone at least five miles, right on the other side of

those hills out there. If you do, you will find that all the gold and

silver has changed into a parcel of charred bones.' Then he whipped up

his reindeer, and was soon out of sight.

For some time the Lapp was satisfied with hearing the bones rattle,

and thinking to himself what a good bargain he had made, and of all

the things he would buy with the money. But, after a bit, this

amusement ceased to content him, and besides, what was the use of

planning when you did not know for certain how rich you were? Perhaps

there might be a great deal of silver and only a little gold in the

bag; or a great deal of gold, and only a little silver. Who could

tell? He would not, of course, take the money out to count it, for

that might bring him bad luck. But there could be no harm in just one

peep! So he slowly broke the seal, and untied the strings, and,

behold, a heap of burnt bones lay before him! In a minute he knew he

had been tricked, and flinging the bag to the ground in a rage, he ran

after the fox as fast as his snow-shoes would carry him.

Now the fox had guessed exactly what would happen, and was on the look

out. Directly he saw the little speck coming towards him, he wished

that the man's snow-shoes might break, and that very instant the

Lapp's shoes snapped in two. The Lapp did not know that this was the

fox's work, but he had to stop and fetch one of his other reindeer,

which he mounted, and set off again in pursuit of his enemy. The fox

soon heard him coming, and this time he wished that the reindeer might

fall and break its leg. And so it did; and the man felt it was a

hopeless chase, and that he was no match for the fox.

So the fox drove on in peace till he reached the cave where all his

stores were kept, and then he began to wonder whom he could get to

help him kill his reindeer, for though he could steal reindeer he was

too small to kill them. 'After all, it will be quite easy,' thought

he, and he bade a squirrel, who was watching him on a tree close by,

take a message to all the robber beasts of the forest, and in less

than half an hour a great crashing of branches was heard, and bears,

wolves, snakes, mice, frogs, and other creatures came pressing up to

the cave.

When they heard why they had been summoned, they declared themselves

ready each one to do his part. The bear took his crossbow from his

neck and shot the reindeer in the chin; and, from that day to this,

every reindeer has a mark in that same spot, which is always known as

the bear's arrow. The wolf shot him in the thigh, and the sign of his

arrow still remains; and so with the mouse and the viper and all the

rest, even the frog; and at the last the reindeer all died. And the

fox did nothing, but looked on.

'I really must go down to the brook and wash myself,' said he (though

he was perfectly clean), and he went under the bank and hid himself

behind a stone. From there he set up the most frightful shrieks, so

that the animals fled away in all directions. Only the mouse and the

ermine remained where they were, for they thought that they were much

too small to be noticed.

The fox continued his shrieks till he felt sure that the animals must

have got to a safe distance; then he crawled out of his hiding-place

and went to the bodies of the reindeer, which he now had all to

himself. He gathered a bundle of sticks for a fire, and was just

preparing to cook a steak, when his enemy, the Lapp, came up, panting

with haste and excitement.

'What are you doing there?' cried he; 'why did you palm off those

bones on me? And why, when you had got the reindeer, did you kill

them?'

'Dear brother,' answered the fox with a sob, 'do not blame me for this

misfortune. It is my comrades who have slain them in spite of my

prayers.'

The man made no reply, for the white fur of the ermine, who was

crouching with the mouse behind some stones, had just caught his eye.

He hastily seized the iron hook which hung over the fire and flung it

at the little creature; but the ermine was too quick for him, and the

hook only touched the top of its tail, and that has remained black to

this day. As for the mouse, the Lapp threw a half-burnt stick after

him, and though it was not hot enough to hurt him, his beautiful white

skin was smeared all over with it, and all the washing in the world

would not make him clean again. And the man would have been wiser if

he had let the ermine and the mouse alone, for when he turned round

again he found he was alone.

Directly the fox noticed that his enemy's attention had wandered from

himself he watched his chance, and stole softly away till he had

reached a clump of thick bushes, when he ran as fast as he could, till

he reached a river, where a man was mending his boat.

'Oh, I wish, I do wish, I had a boat to mend too!' he cried, sitting

up on his hind-legs and looking into the man's face.

'Stop your silly chatter!' answered the man crossly, 'or I will give

you a bath in the river.'

'Oh, I wish, I do wish, I had a boat to mend,' cried the fox again, as

if he had not heard. And the man grew angry and seized him by the

tail, and threw him far out in the stream close to the edge of an

island; which was just what the fox wanted. He easily scrambled up,

and, sitting on the top, he called: 'Hasten, hasten, O fishes, and

carry me to the other side!' And the fishes left the stones where they

had been sleeping, and the pools where they had been feeding, and

hurried to see who could get to the island first.

'I have won,' shouted the pike. 'Jump on my back, dear fox, and you

will find yourself in a trice on the opposite shore.'

'No, thank you,' answered the fox, 'your back is much too weak for

me. I should break it.'

'Try mine,' said the eel, who had wriggled to the front.

'No, thank you,' replied the fox again, 'I should slip over your head

and be drowned.'

'You won't slip on _my_ back,' said the perch, coming forward.

'No; but you are really _too_ rough,' returned the fox.

'Well, you can have no fault to find with _me_,' put in the trout.

'Good gracious! are _you_ here?' exclaimed the fox. 'But I'm afraid to

trust myself to you either.'

At this moment a fine salmon swam slowly up.

'Ah, yes, you are the person I want,' said the fox; 'but come near, so

that I may get on your back, without wetting my feet.'

So the salmon swam close under the island, and when he was touching it

the fox seized him in his claws and drew him out of the water, and put

him on a spit, while he kindled a fire to cook him by. When everything

was ready, and the water in the pot was getting hot, he popped him in,

and waited till he thought the salmon was nearly boiled. But as he

stooped down the water gave a sudden fizzle, and splashed into the

fox's eyes, blinding him. He started backwards with a cry of pain, and

sat still for some minutes, rocking himself to and fro. When he was a

little better he rose and walked down a road till he met a grouse, who

stopped and asked what was the matter.

'Have you a pair of eyes anywhere about you?' asked the fox politely.

'No, I am afraid I haven't,' answered the grouse, and passed on.

A little while after the fox heard the buzzing of an early bee, whom a

gleam of sun had tempted out.

'Do you happen to have an extra pair of eyes anywhere?' asked the

fox.

'I am sorry to say I have only those I am using,' replied the bee. And

the fox went on till he nearly fell over an asp who was gliding across

the road.

'I should be _so_ glad if you would tell me where I could get a pair

of eyes,' said the fox. 'I suppose you don't happen to have any you

could lend me?'

'Well, if you only want them for a short time, perhaps I could

manage,' answered the asp; 'but I can't do without them for long.'

'Oh, it is only for a very short time that I need them,' said the fox;

'I have a pair of my own just behind that hill, and when I find them I

will bring yours back to you. Perhaps you will keep these till then.'

So he took the eyes out of his own head and popped them into the head

of the asp, and put the asp's eyes in their place. As he was running

off he cried over his shoulder: 'As long as the world lasts the asps'

eyes will go down in the heads of foxes from generation to

generation.'

And so it has been; and if you look at the eyes of an asp you will see

that they are all burnt; and though thousands of years have gone by

since the fox was going about playing tricks upon everybody he met,

the asp still bears the traces of the day when the sly creature cooked

the salmon.

[_Lappländische Mährchen._]

_KISA THE CAT_

Once upon a time there lived a queen who had a beautiful cat, the

colour of smoke, with china-blue eyes, which she was very fond of. The

cat was constantly with her, and ran after her wherever she went, and

even sat up proudly by her side when she drove out in her fine glass

coach.

'Oh, pussy,' said the queen one day, 'you are happier than I am! For

you have a dear little kitten just like yourself, and I have nobody to

play with but you.'

'Don't cry,' answered the cat, laying her paw on her mistress's arm.

'Crying never does any good. I will see what can be done.'

The cat was as good as her word. As soon as she returned from her

drive she trotted off to the forest to consult a fairy who dwelt

there, and very soon after the queen had a little girl, who seemed

made out of snow and sunbeams. The queen was delighted, and soon the

baby began to take notice of the kitten as she jumped about the room,

and would not go to sleep at all unless the kitten lay curled up

beside her.

Two or three months went by, and though the baby was still a baby, the

kitten was fast becoming a cat, and one evening when, as usual, the

nurse came to look for her, to put her in the baby's cot, she was

nowhere to be found. What a hunt there was for that kitten, to be

sure! The servants, each anxious to find her, as the queen was certain

to reward the lucky man, searched in the most impossible places. Boxes

were opened that would hardly have held the kitten's paw; books were

taken from bookshelves, lest the kitten should have got behind them,

drawers were pulled out, for perhaps the kitten might have got shut

in. But it was all no use. The kitten had plainly run away, and nobody

could tell if it would ever choose to come back.

Years passed away, and one day, when the princess was playing ball in

the garden, she happened to throw her ball farther than usual, and it

fell into a clump of rose-bushes. The princess of course ran after it

at once, and she was stooping down to feel if it was hidden in the

long grass, when she heard a voice calling her: 'Ingibjörg!

Ingibjörg!' it said, 'have you forgotten me? I am Kisa, your sister!'

'But I never _had_ a sister,' answered Ingibjörg, very much puzzled;

for she knew nothing of what had taken place so long ago.

'Don't you remember how I always slept in your cot beside you, and how

you cried till I came? But girls have no memories at all! Why, I could

find my way straight up to that cot this moment, if I was once inside

the palace.'

'Why did you go away then?' asked the princess. But before Kisa could

answer, Ingibjörg's attendants arrived breathless on the scene, and

were so horrified at the sight of a strange cat, that Kisa plunged

into the bushes and went back to the forest.

The princess was very much vexed with her ladies-in-waiting for

frightening away her old playfellow, and told the queen who came to

her room every evening to bid her good-night.

'Yes, it is quite true what Kisa said,' answered the queen; 'I should

have liked to see her again. Perhaps, some day, she will return, and

then you must bring her to me.'

Next morning it was very hot, and the princess declared that she must

go and play in the forest, where it was always cool, under the big

shady trees. As usual, her attendants let her do anything she

pleased, and, sitting down on a mossy bank where a little stream

tinkled by, soon fell sound asleep. The princess saw with delight that

they would pay no heed to her, and wandered on and on, expecting every

moment to see some fairies dancing round a ring, or some little brown

elves peeping at her from behind a tree. But, alas! she met none of

these; instead, a horrible giant came out of his cave and ordered her

to follow him. The princess felt much afraid, as he was so big and

ugly, and began to be sorry that she had not stayed within reach of

help; but as there was no use in disobeying the giant, she walked

meekly behind.

They went a long way, and Ingibjörg grew very tired, and at length

began to cry.

'I don't like girls who make horrid noises,' said the giant, turning

round. 'But if you _want_ to cry, I will give you something to cry

for.' And drawing an axe from his belt, he cut off both her feet,

which he picked up and put in his pocket. Then he went away.

Poor Ingibjörg lay on the grass in terrible pain, and wondering if she

should stay there till she died, as no one would know where to look

for her. How long it was since she had set out in the morning she

could not tell--it seemed years to her, of course; but the sun was

still high in the heavens when she heard the sound of wheels, and

then, with a great effort, for her throat was parched with fright and

pain, she gave a shout.

'I am coming!' was the answer; and in another moment a cart made its

way through the trees, driven by Kisa, who used her tail as a whip to

urge the horse to go faster. Directly Kisa saw Ingibjörg lying there,

she jumped quickly down, and lifting the girl carefully in her two

front paws, laid her upon some soft hay, and drove back to her own

little hut.

In the corner of the room was a pile of cushions, and these Kisa

arranged as a bed. Ingibjörg, who by this time was nearly fainting

from all she had gone through, drank greedily some milk, and then sank

back on the cushions while Kisa fetched some dried herbs from a

cupboard, soaked them in warm water and tied them on the bleeding

legs. The pain vanished at once, and Ingibjörg looked up and smiled at

Kisa.

'You will go to sleep now,' said the cat, 'and you will not mind if I

leave you for a little while. I will lock the door, and no one can

hurt you.' But before she had finished the princess was asleep. Then

Kisa got into the cart, which was standing at the door, and catching

up the reins, drove straight to the giant's cave.

Leaving her cart behind some trees, Kisa crept gently up to the open

door, and, crouching down, listened to what the giant was telling his

wife, who was at supper with him.

'The first day that I can spare I shall just go back and kill her,' he

said; 'it would never do for people in the forest to know that a mere

girl can defy me!' And he and his wife were so busy calling Ingibjörg

all sorts of names for her bad behaviour, that they never noticed Kisa

stealing into a dark corner, and upsetting a whole bag of salt into

the great pot before the fire.

'Dear me, how thirsty I am!' cried the giant by-and-by.

'So am I,' answered his wife. 'I do wish I had not taken that last

spoonful of broth; I am sure something was wrong with it.'

'If I don't get some water I shall die,' went on the giant. And

rushing out of the cave, followed by his wife, he ran down the path

which led to the river.

Then Kisa entered the hut, and lost no time in searching every hole

till she came upon some grass, under which Ingibjörg's feet were

hidden, and putting them in her cart, drove back again to her own hut.

Ingibjörg was thankful to see her, for she had lain, too frightened to

sleep, trembling at every noise.

'Oh, is it you?' she cried joyfully, as Kisa turned the key. And the

cat came in, holding up the two neat little feet in their silver

slippers.

[Illustration: KISA THE CAT CARRIES OFF INGIBJÖRG'S FEET FROM THE

GIANT'S CAVE]

'In two minutes they shall be as tight as ever they were!' said Kisa.

And taking some strings of the magic grass which the giant had

carelessly heaped on them, she bound the feet on to the legs above.

'Of course you won't be able to walk for some time; you must not

expect _that_,' she continued. 'But if you are very good, perhaps, in

about a week, I may carry you home again.'

And so she did; and when the cat drove the cart up to the palace gate,

lashing the horse furiously with her tail, and the king and queen saw

their lost daughter sitting beside her, they declared that no reward

could be too great for the person who had brought her out of the

giant's hands.

'We will talk about that by-and-by,' said the cat, as she made her

best bow, and turned her horse's head.

The princess was very unhappy when Kisa left her without even bidding

her farewell. She would neither eat nor drink, nor take any notice of

all the beautiful dresses her parents bought for her.

'She will die, unless we can make her laugh,' one whispered to the

other. 'Is there anything in the world that we have left untried?'

'Nothing, except marriage,' answered the king. And he invited all the

handsomest young men he could think of to the palace, and bade the

princess choose a husband from among them.

It took her some time to decide which she admired the most, but at

last she fixed upon a young prince, whose eyes were like the pools in

the forest, and his hair of bright gold. The king and the queen were

greatly pleased, as the young man was the son of a neighbouring king,

and they gave orders that a splendid feast should be got ready.

When the marriage was over, Kisa suddenly stood before them, and

Ingibjörg rushed forward and clasped her in her arms.

'I have come to claim my reward,' said the cat. 'Let me sleep for this

night at the foot of your bed.'

'Is that _all_?' asked Ingibjörg, much disappointed.

'It is enough,' answered the cat. And when the morning dawned, it was

no cat that lay upon the bed, but a beautiful princess.

'My mother and I were both enchanted by a spiteful fairy,' said she,

'and we could not free ourselves till we had done some kindly deed

that had never been wrought before. My mother died without ever

finding a chance of doing anything new, but I took advantage of the

evil act of the giant to make you as whole as ever.'

Then they were all more delighted than before, and the princess lived

in the court until she, too, married, and went away to govern one of

her own.

[Adapted from _Neuisländischen Volksmärchen_.]

_THE LION AND THE CAT_

Far away on the other side of the world there lived, long ago, a lion

and his younger brother, the wild cat, who were so fond of each other

that they shared the same hut. The lion was much the bigger and

stronger of the two--indeed, he was much bigger and stronger than any

of the beasts that dwelt in the forest; and, besides, he could jump

farther and run faster than all the rest. If strength and swiftness

could gain him a dinner he was sure never to be without one, but when

it came to cunning, both the grizzly bear and the serpent could get

the better of him, and he was forced to call in the help of the wild

cat.

Now the young wild cat had a lovely golden ball, so beautiful that you

could hardly look at it except through a piece of smoked glass, and he

kept it hidden in the thick fur muff that went round his neck. A very

large old animal, since dead, had given it to him when he was hardly

more than a baby, and had told him never to part with it, for as long

as he kept it no harm could ever come near him.

In general the wild cat did not need to use his ball, for the lion was

fond of hunting, and could kill all the food that they needed; but now

and then his life would have been in danger had it not been for the

golden ball.

* * * * *

One day the two brothers started to hunt at daybreak, but as the cat

could not run nearly as fast as the lion, he had quite a long start.

At least he _thought_ it was a long one, but in a very few bounds and

springs the lion reached his side.

'There is a bear sitting on that tree,' he whispered softly. 'He is

only waiting for us to pass, to drop down on my back.'

'Ah, you are so big that he does not see I am behind you,' answered

the wild cat. And, touching the ball, he just said: 'Bear, die!' And

the bear tumbled dead out of the tree, and rolled over just in front

of them.

For some time they trotted on without any adventures, till just as

they were about to cross a strip of long grass on the edge of the

forest, the lion's quick ears detected a faint rustling noise.

'That is a snake,' he cried, stopping short, for he was much more

afraid of snakes than of bears.

'Oh, it is all right,' answered the cat. 'Snake, die!' And the snake

died, and the two brothers skinned it. They then folded the skin up

into a very small parcel, and the cat tucked it into his mane, for

snakes' skins can do all sorts of wonderful things, if you are lucky

enough to have one of them.

All this time they had had no dinner, for the snake's flesh was not

nice, and the lion did not like eating bear--perhaps because he never

felt sure that the bear was _really_ dead, and would not jump up alive

when his enemy went near him. Most people are afraid of _some_ thing,

and bears and serpents were the only creatures that caused the lion's

heart to tremble. So the two brothers set off again and soon reached

the side of a hill where some fine deer were grazing.

'Kill one of those deer for your own dinner,' said the boy-brother,

'but catch me another alive. I want him.'

The lion at once sprang towards them with a loud roar, but the deer

bounded away, and they were all three soon lost to sight. The cat

waited for a long while, but finding that the lion did not return,

went back to the house where they lived.

It was quite dark when the lion came home, where his brother was

sitting curled up in one corner.

'Did you catch the deer for me?' asked the boy-brother, springing up.

'Well, no,' replied the man-brother. 'The fact is, that I did not get

up to them till we had run half way across the world and left the wind

far behind us. Think what a trouble it would have been to drag it

here! So--I just ate them both.'

The cat said nothing, but he did not feel that he loved his big

brother. He had thought a great deal about that deer, and had meant to

get on his back to ride him as a horse, and go to see all the

wonderful places the lion talked to him about when he was in a good

temper. The more he thought of it the more sulky he grew, and in the

morning, when the lion said that it was time for them to start to

hunt, the cat told him that he might kill the bear and snake by

himself, as _he_ had a headache, and would rather stay at home. The

little fellow knew quite well that the lion would not dare to go out

without him and his ball for fear of meeting a bear or a snake.

The quarrel went on, and for many days neither of the brothers spoke

to each other, and what made them still more cross was, that they

could get very little to eat, and we know that people are often cross

when they are hungry. At last it occurred to the lion that if he could

only steal the magic ball he could kill bears and snakes for himself,

and then the cat might be as sulky as he liked for anything that it

would matter. But how was the stealing to be done? The cat had the

ball hung round his neck day and night, and he was such a light

sleeper that it was useless to think of taking it while he slept. No!

the only thing was to get him to lend it of his own accord, and after

some days the lion (who was not at all clever) hit upon a plan that he

thought would do.

'Dear me, how dull it is here!' said the lion one afternoon, when the

rain was pouring down in such torrents that, however sharp your eyes

or your nose might be, you could not spy a single bird or beast among

the bushes. 'Dear me, how dull, how dreadfully dull I am. Couldn't we

have a game of catch with that golden ball of yours?'

'I don't care about playing catch, it does not amuse me,' answered the

cat, who was as cross as ever; for no cat, even to this day, ever

forgets an injury done to him.

'Well, then, lend me the ball for a little, and I will play by

myself,' replied the lion, stretching out a paw as he spoke.

'You can't play in the rain, and if you did, you would only lose it in

the bushes,' said the cat.

'Oh, no, I won't; I will play in here. Don't be so ill-natured.' And

with a very bad grace the cat untied the string and threw the golden

ball into the lion's lap, and composed himself to sleep again.

* * * * *

For a long while the lion tossed it up and down gaily, feeling that,

however sound asleep the boy-brother might _look_, he was sure to have

one eye open; but gradually he began to edge closer to the opening,

and at last gave such a toss that the ball went up high into the air,

and he could not see what became of it.

'Oh, how stupid of me!' he cried, as the cat sprang up angrily, 'let

us go at once and search for it. It can't really have fallen very

far.' But though they searched that day and the next, and the next

after that, they never found it, because it never came down.

After the loss of his ball the cat refused to live with the lion any

longer, but wandered away to the north, always hoping he might meet

with his ball again. But months passed, and years passed, and though

he travelled over hundreds of miles, he never saw any traces of it.

At length, when he was getting quite old, he came to a place unlike

any that he had ever seen before, where a big river rolled right to

the foot of some high mountains. The ground all about the river bank

was damp and marshy, and as no cat likes to wet its feet, this one

climbed a tree that rose high above the water, and thought sadly of

his lost ball, which would have helped him out of this horrible place.

Suddenly he saw a beautiful ball, for all the world like his own,

dangling from a branch of the tree he was on. He longed to get at it;

but was the branch strong enough to bear his weight? It was no use,

after all he had done, getting drowned in the water. However, it could

do no harm, if he was to go a little way; he could always manage to

get back somehow.

So he stretched himself at full length upon the branch, and wriggled

his body cautiously along. To his delight it seemed thick and stout.

Another movement, and, by stretching out his paw, he would be able to

draw the string towards him, when the branch gave a loud crack, and

the cat made haste to wriggle himself back the way he had come.

But when cats make up their minds to do anything they generally _do_

it; and this cat began to look about to see if there was really no way

of getting at his ball. Yes! there was, and it was much surer than the

other, though rather more difficult. Above the bough where the ball

hung was another bough much thicker, which he knew could not break

with his weight; and by holding on tight to this with all his four

paws he could just manage to touch the ball with his tail. He would

thus be able to whisk the ball to and fro till, by-and-by, the string

would become quite loose, and it would fall to the ground. It might

take some time, but the lion's little brother was patient, like most

cats.

Well, it all happened just as the cat intended it should, and when the

ball dropped on the ground the cat ran down the tree like lightning,

and, picking it up, tucked it away in the snake's skin round his neck.

Then he began jumping along the shore of the Big Water from one place

to another, trying to find a boat, or even a log of wood, that would

take him across. But there was nothing; only, on the other side, he

saw two girls cooking, and though he shouted to them at the top of his

voice, they were too far off to hear what he said. And, what was

worse, the ball suddenly fell out of its snake's skin bag right into

the river.

Now, it is not at all an uncommon thing for balls to tumble into

rivers, but in that case they generally either fall to the bottom and

stay there, or else bob about on the top of the water close to where

they first touched it. But this ball, instead of doing either of these

things, went straight across to the other side, and there one of the

girls saw it when she stooped to dip some water into her pail.

'Oh! what a lovely ball!' cried she, and tried to catch it in her

pail; but the ball always kept bobbing just out of her reach.

'Come and help me!' she called to her sister, and after a long while

they had the ball safe inside the pail. They were delighted with their

new toy, and one or the other held it in her hand till bedtime came,

and then it was a long time before they could make up their minds

where it would be safest for the night. At last they locked it in a

cupboard in one corner of their room, and as there was no hole

anywhere the ball could not possibly get out. After that they went to

sleep.

In the morning the first thing they both did was to run to the

cupboard and unlock it, but when the door opened they started back,

for, instead of the ball, there stood a handsome young man.

'Ladies,' he said, 'how can I thank you for what you have done for me?

Long, long ago, I was enchanted by a wicked fairy, and condemned to

keep the shape of a ball till I should meet with two maidens, who

would take me to their own home. But where was I to meet them? For

hundreds of years I have lived in the depths of the forest, where

nothing but wild beasts ever came, and it was only when the lion

threw me into the sky that I was able to fall to earth near this

river. Where there is a river, sooner or later people will come; so,

hanging myself on a tree, I watched and waited. For a moment I lost

heart when I fell once more into the hands of my old master the wild

cat, but my hopes rose again as I saw he was making for the river bank

opposite where you were standing. That was my chance, and I took it.

And now, ladies, I have only to say that, if ever I can do anything to

help you, go to the top of that high mountain and knock three times at

the iron door at the north side, and I will come to you.'

So, with a low bow, he vanished from before them, leaving the maidens

weeping at having lost in one moment both the ball and the prince.

[Adapted from _North American Indian Legends_.]

_WHICH WAS THE FOOLISHEST?_

In a little village that stood on a wide plain, where you could see

the sun from the moment he rose to the moment he set, there lived two

couples side by side. The men, who worked under the same master, were

quite good friends, but the wives were always quarrelling, and the

subject they quarrelled most about was--which of the two had the

stupidest husband.

Unlike most women--who think that anything that belongs to them must

be better than what belongs to anyone else--each thought her own

husband the more foolish of the two.

'You should just see what he does!' one said to her neighbour. 'He

puts on the baby's frock upside down, and, one day, I found him trying

to feed her with boiling soup, and her mouth was scalded for days

after. Then he picks up stones in the road and sows them instead of

potatoes, and one day he wanted to go into the garden from the top

window, because he declared it was a shorter way than through the

door.'

'That is bad enough, of course,' answered the other; 'but it is really

_nothing_ to what I have to endure every day from _my_ husband. If,

when I am busy, I ask him to go and feed the poultry, he is certain to

give them some poisonous stuff instead of their proper food, and when

I visit the yard next I find them all dead. Once he even took my best

bonnet, when I had gone away to my sick mother, and when I came back I

found he had given it to the hen to lay her eggs in. And you know

yourself that, only last week, when I sent him to buy a cask of

butter, he returned driving a hundred and fifty ducks which someone

had induced him to take, and not one of them would lay.'

'Yes, I am afraid he _is_ trying,' replied the first; 'but let us put

them to the proof, and see which of them is the most foolish.'

So, about the time that she expected her husband home from work, she

got out her spinning-wheel, and sat busily turning it, taking care not

even to look up from her work when the man came in. For some minutes

he stood with his mouth open watching her, and as she still remained

silent, he said at last:

'Have you gone mad, wife, that you sit spinning without anything on

the wheel?'

'_You_ may think that there is nothing on it,' answered she, 'but I

can assure you that there is a large skein of wool, so fine that

nobody can see it, which will be woven into a coat for you.'

'Dear me!' he replied, 'what a clever wife I have got! If you had not

told me I should never have known that there was any wool on the wheel

at all. But now I really do seem to see something.'

The woman smiled and was silent, and after spinning busily for an hour

more, she got up from her stool, and began to weave as fast as she

could. At last she got up, and said to her husband: 'I am too tired to

finish it to-night, so I shall go to bed, and to-morrow I shall only

have the cutting and stitching to do.'

So the next morning she got up early, and after she had cleaned her

house, and fed her chickens, and put everything in its place again,

she bent over the kitchen table, and the sound of her big scissors

might be heard snip! snap! as far as the garden. Her husband could not

see anything to snip at; but then he was so stupid that was not

surprising!

After the cutting came the sewing. The woman patted and pinned and

fixed and joined, and then, turning to the man, she said:

'Now it is ready for you to try on.' And she made him take off his

coat, and stand up in front of her, and once more she patted and

pinned and fixed and joined, and was very careful in smoothing out

every wrinkle.

'It does not feel very warm,' observed the man at last, when he had

borne all this patiently for a long time.

'That is because it is so fine,' answered she; 'you do not want it to

be as thick as the rough clothes you wear every day.'

He _did_, but was ashamed to say so, and only answered: 'Well, I am

sure it must be beautiful since you say so, and I shall be smarter

than anyone in the whole village. "What a splendid coat!" they will

exclaim when they see me. But it is not everybody who has a wife as

clever as mine.'

Meanwhile the other wife was not idle. As soon as her husband entered

she looked at him with such a look of terror that the poor man was

quite frightened.

'Why do you stare at me so? Is there anything the matter?' asked he.

'Oh! go to bed at once,' she cried; 'you must be very ill indeed to

look like that!'

The man was rather surprised at first, as he felt particularly well

that evening; but the moment his wife spoke he became quite certain

that he had something dreadful the matter with him, and grew quite

pale.

'I dare say it would be the best place for me,' he answered,

trembling; and he suffered his wife to take him upstairs, and to help

him off with his clothes.

'If you sleep well during the night there _may_ be a chance for you,'

said she, shaking her head, as she tucked him up warmly; 'but if

not----' And of course the poor man never closed an eye till the sun

rose.

'How do you feel this morning?' asked the woman, coming in on tip-toe

when her house-work was finished.

'Oh, bad; very bad indeed,' answered he; 'I have not slept for a

moment. Can you think of nothing to make me better?'

'I will try everything that is possible,' said the wife, who did not

in the least wish her husband to die, but was determined to show that

he was more foolish than the other man. 'I will get some dried herbs

and make you a drink, but I am very much afraid that it is too late.

Why did you not tell me before?'

'I thought perhaps the pain would go off in a day or two; and,

besides, I did not want to make you unhappy,' answered the man, who

was by this time quite sure he had been suffering tortures, and had

borne them like a hero. 'Of course, if I had had any idea how ill I

really was, I should have spoken at once.'

'Well, well, I will see what can be done,' said the wife, 'but talking

is not good for you. Lie still, and keep yourself warm.'

All that day the man lay in bed, and whenever his wife entered the

room and asked him, with a shake of the head, how he felt, he always

replied that he was getting worse. At last, in the evening, she burst

into tears, and when he inquired what was the matter, she sobbed out:

'Oh, my poor, poor husband, are you really dead? I must go to-morrow

and order your coffin.'

Now, when the man heard this, a cold shiver ran through his body, and

all at once he knew that he was as well as he had ever been in his

life.

'Oh, no, no!' he cried, 'I feel quite recovered! Indeed, I think I

shall go out to work.'

'You will do no such thing,' replied his wife. 'Just keep quite quiet,

for before the sun rises you will be a dead man.'

The man was very frightened at her words, and lay absolutely still

while the undertaker came and measured him for his coffin; and his

wife gave orders to the gravedigger about his grave. That evening the

coffin was sent home, and in the morning at nine o'clock the woman

put him on a long flannel garment, and called to the undertaker's men

to fasten down the lid and carry him to the grave, where all their

friends were waiting them. Just as the body was being placed in the

ground the other woman's husband came running up, dressed, as far as

anyone could see, in no clothes at all. Everybody burst into shouts of

laughter at the sight of him, and the men laid down the coffin and

laughed too, till their sides nearly split. The dead man was so

astonished at this behaviour, that he peeped out of a little window in

the side of the coffin, and cried out:

'I should laugh as loudly as any of you, if I were not a dead man.'

When they heard the voice coming from the coffin the other people

suddenly stopped laughing, and stood as if they had been turned into

stone. Then they rushed with one accord to the coffin, and lifted the

lid so that the man could step out amongst them.

'Were you really not dead after all?' asked they. 'And if not, why did

you let yourself be buried?'

At this the wives both confessed that they had each wished to prove

that her husband was stupider than the other. But the villagers

declared that they could not decide which was the most foolish--the

man who allowed himself to be persuaded that he was wearing fine

clothes when he was dressed in nothing, or the man who let himself be

buried when he was alive and well.

So the women quarrelled just as much as they did before, and no one

ever knew whose husband was the most foolish.

[Adapted from the _Neuisländischen Volksmärchen_.]

_ASMUND AND SIGNY_

Long, long ago, in the days when fairies, witches, giants, and ogres

still visited the earth, there lived a king who reigned over a great

and beautiful country. He was married to a wife whom he dearly loved,

and had two most promising children--a son called Asmund, and a

daughter who was named Signy.

The king and queen were very anxious to bring their children up well,

and the young prince and princess were taught everything likely to

make them clever and accomplished. They lived at home in their

father's palace, and he spared no pains to make their lives happy.

Prince Asmund dearly loved all outdoor sports and an open-air life,

and from his earliest childhood he had longed to live entirely in the

forest close by. After many arguments and entreaties he succeeded in

persuading the king to give him two great oak trees for his very own.

'Now,' said he to his sister, 'I will have the trees hollowed out, and

then I will make rooms in them and furnish them so that I shall be

able to live out in the forest.'

'Oh, Asmund!' exclaimed Signy, 'what a delightful idea! Do let me come

too, and live in one of your trees. I will bring all my pretty things

and ornaments, and the trees are so near home we shall be quite safe

in them.'

Asmund, who was extremely fond of his sister, readily consented, and

they had a very happy time together, carrying over all their pet

treasures, and Signy's jewels and other ornaments, and arranging them

in the pretty little rooms inside the trees.

Unfortunately sadder days were to come. A war with another country

broke out, and the king had to lead his army against their enemy.

During his absence the queen fell ill, and after lingering for some

time she died, to the great grief of her children. They made up their

minds to live altogether for a time in their trees, and for this

purpose they had provisions enough stored up inside to last them a

year.

Now, I must tell you, in another country a long way off, there reigned

a king who had an only son named Ring. Prince Ring had heard so much

about the beauty and goodness of Princess Signy that he determined to

marry her if possible. So he begged his father to let him have a ship

for the voyage, set sail with a favourable wind, and after a time

landed in the country where Signy lived.

The prince lost no time in setting out for the royal palace, and on

his way there he met such a wonderfully lovely woman that he felt he

had never seen such beauty before in all his life. He stopped her and

at once asked who she was.

'I am Signy, the king's daughter,' was the reply.

Then the prince inquired why she was wandering about all by herself,

and she told him that since her mother's death she was so sad that

whilst her father was away she preferred being alone.

Ring was quite deceived by her, and never guessed that she was not

Princess Signy at all, but a strong, gigantic, wicked witch bent on

deceiving him under a beautiful shape. He confided to her that he had

travelled all the way from his own country for her sake, having fallen

in love with the accounts he had heard of her beauty, and he then and

there asked her to be his wife.

The witch listened to all he said and, much pleased, ended by

accepting his offer; but she begged him to return to his ship for a

little while as she wished to go some way further into the forest,

promising to join him later on.

Prince Ring did as she wished and went back to his ship to wait,

whilst she walked on into the forest till she reached the two oak

trees.

Here she resumed her own gigantic shape, tore up the trees by their

roots, threw one of them over her back and clasped the other to her

breast, carried them down to the shore and waded out with them to the

ship.

She took care not to be noticed as she reached the ship, and directly

she got on board she once more changed to her former lovely appearance

and told the prince that her luggage was now all on board, and that

they need wait for nothing more.

The prince gave orders to set sail at once, and after a fine voyage

landed in his own country, where his parents and his only sister

received him with the greatest joy and affection.

The false Signy was also very kindly welcomed. A beautiful house was

got ready for her, and Prince Ring had the two oaks planted in the

garden just in front of her windows so that she might have the

pleasure of seeing them constantly. He often went to visit the witch,

whom he believed to be Princess Signy, and one day he asked: 'Don't

you think we might be married before long?'

'Yes,' said she, quite pleased, 'I am quite ready to marry you

whenever you like.'

'Then,' replied Ring, 'let us decide on this day fortnight. And see, I

have brought you some stuff to make your wedding-dress of.' So saying

he gave her a large piece of the most beautiful brocade, all woven

over with gold threads, and embroidered with pearls and other jewels.

The prince had hardly left her before the witch resumed her proper

shape and tore about the room, raging and storming and flinging the

beautiful silk on the floor.

'What was _she_ to do with such things?' she roared. '_She_ did not

know how to sew or make clothes, and she was sure to die of starvation

into the bargain if her brother Ironhead did not come soon and bring

her some raw meat and bones, for she really could eat nothing else.'

As she was raving and roaring in this frantic manner part of the floor

suddenly opened and a huge giant rose up carrying a great chest in his

arms. The witch was enchanted at this sight, and eagerly helped her

brother to set down and open the chest, which was full of the ghastly

food she had been longing for. The horrid pair set to and greedily

devoured it all, and when the chest was quite empty the giant put it

on his shoulder and disappeared as he had come, without leaving any

trace of his visit.

But his sister did not keep quiet for long, and tore and pulled at the

rich brocade as if she wanted to destroy it, stamping about and

shouting angrily.