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TOP-OF-THE-WORLD STORIES
FOR BOYS AND GIRLS
TRANSLATED FROM THE SCANDINAVIAN LANGUAGES
BY
EMILIE POULSSON AND LAURA E POULSSON
ILLUSTRATED BY
FLORENCE LILEY YOUNG
LORTHROP LEE & SHEPARD CO. BOSTON
Published, August, 1916
Copyright, 1916, BY LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.
_All Rights Reserved_
Top-of-the-World Stories
Norwood Press BERWICK & SMITH CO. NORWOOD, MASS. U. S. A.
_In memory of ten happy years,
this little book is dedicated to the children of
John, William, Anna, Martha, and George._
PREFACE
Not for my dear usual public of little children have I gathered these
stories from Scandinavian authors, but for boys and girls who have
reached a stage which warrants a rather free range in Story Land. For
here are to be encountered creatures and events, deeds and ideas,
unsuited to youngest readers, but which have legitimate attraction for
boys and girls from nine to fourteen years old--the age varying
according to the child's maturity and previous reading.
Five of these stories were written by the noted Finnish author, Zachris
Topelius, who wrote them, and much else, for the children of Finland and
Sweden more than fifty years ago. His loving sympathy for children, and
his earnest desire to write only what was wholesome and good for them,
shine through all his literary work for the young. His "Läsning för
Barn" (Reading for Children) in several volumes, contains stories, true
and imaginative, poems, songs, hymns, and many charming plays for
children to act. Although a Finn, Topelius wrote in the Swedish
language.
By the kind permission of Miss Margaret Böcher I have made use of her
excellent rendering of _Sampo Lappelil_.
Of the other stories presented here, two (_The Forest Witch_ and _The
Testing of the Two Knights_) were translated from the Danish, and one
(_Anton's Errand, or The Boy Who Made Friends by the Way_) from the
Norwegian.
The translations are not strictly literal, neither are they, I am sure,
unjustifiably free. The liberty exercised consists chiefly of omission.
For example, in Knut Spelevink, extra incidents were omitted which
dragged the story to a tedious length or marred it by the inartistic,
outworn device of explaining Knut's adventures as a dream; in _The
Princess Lindagull_, some details of the wild-beast fight were left out;
in _A Legend of Mercy_, a hampering husk was stripped off from the good
seed of the quaint little story. Most of the minor changes were made
for the sake of smoothness and clarity.
In general, wherever I, as translator or editor, have varied from the
original, I have done so to make the stories as directly appealing, as
delightful, and as profitable as possible, for our boys and girls.
EMILIE POULSSON.
_Boston, Mass._
LIST OF STORIES
PAGE
KNUT SPELEVINK 11
THE PRINCESS LINDAGULL 39
CHAPTER I. The Palace of Shah Nadir 39
CHAPTER II. The Arena 48
CHAPTER III. The Captivity 58
CHAPTER IV. The Release 72
SIKKU AND THE TROLLS 86
SAMPO LAPPELIL 105
A LEGEND OF MERCY 130
ANTON'S ERRAND, OR THE BOY WHO MADE FRIENDS BY THE WAY 138
THE FOREST WITCH 175
THE TESTING OF THE TWO KNIGHTS 185
ILLUSTRATIONS
It was a life-and-death race (Page 126) _Frontispiece_
FACING PAGE
"Good-day, Knut Spelevink," said the Snow King 24
The pine-tree raised itself high in air 32
Since Shah Nadir could refuse her nothing, he granted
her request 46
In the Lapp tent 60
Lindagull stepped forth in the clear day 70
Out of the mist arose a slender figure 80
"Oh, ho!" exclaimed Sikku, recognizing her as the
troll woman 90
Sampo was left lying in a snow-drift 114
On the back of the reindeer with golden horns 126
There stood the wolf and the bear 136
The lizard lay perfectly still, listening 146
"Turn back, turn back," said the dove 158
The Mayor was overwhelmed with wonder 172
Nina stood with arms around her little brother 178
Klaus brought forth his only treasure 196
TOP-OF-THE-WORLD STORIES
[Illustration]
KNUT SPELEVINK[1]
Knut was a poor orphan boy who lived with his grandmother at Perlebank
in a little hut on the shore.
He had a shirt, a jacket, a pair of trousers and a cap; and what more
does one need in summer? In winter he had woolen stockings and
birch-bark shoes. That wasn't so little, after all. He was
cheerful,--always happy indeed, though always hungry. It is a great art
to know how to be happy and hungry at the same time!
His good grandmother was so poor that she seldom had enough food for the
boy to eat all he wanted. She spun woolen yarn and sent Knut with it to
Mr. Peterman's grand estate, The Ridge, several miles away, where he
could always sell the yarn. When Knut returned with the money,
Grandmother would buy flour and bake bread. She made it in big flat
cakes with a hole in the middle, strung these cakes on a stick and hung
the stick high up in the hut where the cakes would dry and harden, and
could be kept for a long time. If the yarn brought a good price, she
might even buy some sour milk, too. Potatoes they got from a tiny
fenced-in field, no larger than the floor of a small room. Then, too,
Grandmother owned a fish-net, so they had fresh fish sometimes,--when
Fisher Jonas's boy could help Knut to put out the net.
It was indeed seldom, however, that Knut and his grandmother were well
supplied with food, and the boy's little stomach often called for more;
but even then he was as cheerful as ever.
One morning he sat on the beach, picking up yellowish stones that looked
a little like soft, warm, boiled potatoes. Poor Knut! They would not do
to eat, and he laughingly threw them away, but as he did so, he happened
to see something that lay among the stones. Picking it up, he found that
it was a little whistle or pipe made of reed, such as children often
make for themselves when playing on the shore. There was nothing at all
remarkable about it, but Knut thought he would see if it gave any sound.
Good! It really did. You could play three tones upon it,--_pa_, _py_,
and _pu_. When Knut discovered that, he just for fun stuffed the whistle
into his jacket pocket.
To-day happened to be a hungry day; Knut had had no breakfast. "Suppose
I were sitting now in Mr. Peterman's kitchen at The Ridge," thought
Knut; and at once he imagined he could smell herring being fried!
Well, he must do something; so he seated himself on a big rock near the
water and began to fish, but the fish would not bite. There had been a
storm the day before, but to-day the sea shone like a mirror under the
bright sun, and its slow heaving waves swung clear as glass against the
shore.
"I do wonder what Grandmother has for dinner," thought Knut to himself.
Just then a wave rolled up so high that it wet Knut's bare foot, and he
heard a voice murmur from the wave, "Knut, have you found the magic pipe
that belongs to the sea-princess? She left it on the shore and wishes
she could find it. You can blow three tones on it, _pa_, _py_, _pu_; and
they all work magic,--_pa_ makes the hearers sleep, _py_ makes the
hearers weep, but _pu_ sets them to laughing."
"What?" exclaimed Knut. "Is it a magic pipe? Well, you may go your way,
big wave. I found the pipe and I think I shall keep it for a while."
The wave murmured something,--no one knows what,--rolled slowly away and
did not come back again.
Knut took the pipe from his pocket and looked closely at it. "So you are
a magic pipe, are you? And can charm, can you? Well, charm a fish on to
my hook, if you please." And with that he blew _pa_, _pa_.
He had not blown very long before a perch, then a pike, then a white
fish floated up to the surface of the water, lying on their sides as if
they were asleep.
"Here are fresh fish to be had," thought Knut; and he continued to blow.
In a short time the whole surface of the water near the shore was
covered with floating fish, more white fish, several kinds of perches,
sticklebacks, bream, carp, pike, and salmon,--all the lively finny
throng that live in the sea.
"This will be a great catch!" thought Knut, and he sprang up to the
house to get a hand-net.
When he came back, the shore was crowded with water-birds. The sea-gulls
were the greediest and shrieked "Grab! Grab! Grab!" so that they could
be heard a mile away! But there were many others keeping them
company,--ducks and wild geese, together with swans. All these ravenous
visitors were hard at work devouring the floating fish; and in the
midst of the throng was a great sea-eagle that had swooped down and
seized a large salmon in his talons.
"Go away, you thieves!" called Knut, picking up stones from the beach
and throwing them at the birds. Some were hit in the leg, others in the
wing, but none seemed to think of dropping his prey.
Just then a shot sounded, then another and another, from a near-lying
bay. Some of the birds fell to the water and floated, lying on their
sides like the fish. The firing continued until all the birds had been
either shot down or sent screaming away, scattering in every direction.
A boat containing three hunters now approached the beach. The men were
Mr. Peterman and two friends of his, and it was they who had shot the
birds. They stepped ashore in good humor to gather up their booty.
"Why, there is Knut!" said Mr. Peterman. "How in the world did you get
so many birds together here at Perlebank?"
"I was playing on my pipe for the fish and the birds came to the party,"
answered Knut, jokingly.
"Then you must certainly be a wonderfully clever player," said Mr.
Peterman. "And hereafter, your name shall be Knut Spelevink."[2]
"All right," said Knut. He had had no surname before and thought he
might as well have Spelevink as Anderson, Söderlund or Mattsson.
"But listen, Knut Spelevink; why do you look so poorly to-day? You are
as thin as a rail," said Mr. Peterman.
"Why shouldn't I look poorly, who see all this food and have not eaten
anything since yesterday noon?" replied Knut, in his cheerful fashion.
"H'm," said Mr. Peterman. "Well, come to The Ridge to dinner to-day,
since you have provided us with such a good catch. But don't come until
four o'clock because the birds won't be plucked and roasted before
that."
"Thank you most humbly," answered Knut; but he thought to himself that
four o'clock was rather late for any one who had eaten nothing since
yesterday!
Mr. Peterman and his friends rowed away and Knut went home to his
grandmother.
"Well, Knut, have you seen any fish to-day?"
"Oh, yes! I've seen plenty; but the birds ate the fish and Mr. Peterman
shot the birds."
"Too bad, Knut. We have nothing for dinner but two herring, four little
potatoes and a half-slice of bread."
"No matter, Grandmother; you eat that. I am invited to The Ridge for
dinner and I shall bring you a bit of cheese in my pocket if I can."
"Don't take the short cut through Kiikkala Forest, Knut; there are elves
there, and three troll-kings,--the Mountain King, the Snow King and the
Forest King. Go, rather, along the shore,--that way is safer; only there
you must look out for the mermaids."
"But it is a long way around by the shore, Grandmother, and I haven't
had anything to eat since yesterday."
"Well, go whichever way you will then, but don't think about food. That
leads one into temptation."
"No, Grandmother. I shall think about the next Catechism examination,
and study hard as I go along."
Knut started on his way, thinking about the Catechism, but when he came
to the beginning of the short cut, he thought: "Surely I should be a
goose if I, with such an empty stomach, should walk seven miles instead
of half that."
And so he turned off into the short cut through Kiikkala Forest and
determined to hear himself say the Catechism while he was going through
the woods.
He had not gone far before he saw a thin little old man, dragging a cart
loaded with twelve iron bars.
"Good-day, Knut Spelevink," said the old man. "Why do you look so poorly
to-day?"
"Why shouldn't I look poorly, when I have eaten nothing but Catechism
since yesterday noon? But how did you know my new name?"
"I know all names," answered the old man, who was really a troll.
"Sha'n't I help you?" asked good-natured Knut. "You are all out of
breath with that heavy load."
"Push away if you like, Spelevink." So Knut pushed, and the old man
pulled and they soon came to a big mountain in the forest.
"This is where I live," said the old man. "Step in and I will give you
something good to eat, because you helped me with my load." So saying,
he entered the mountain. Knut's stomach said follow him, and Knut
followed.
Soon they were in a great underground palace where everything glittered
with gold, silver and precious stones.
"Do you live here?" asked Knut.
"I should say I did," replied the old man. "I am the King of the
Mountain. To-morrow I give the marriage feast for my daughter; and my
servants are so driven with work that I myself had to bring my food from
the forge where these bars are made."
"Wasn't that iron in the cart?" asked Knut.
"Bar iron, my lad, bar iron of the best sort. That is something far
finer than simple iron ore. Bar iron is my favorite food, especially
when it is at white heat. Have you ever eaten bar iron?"
"Not that I can remember," said Knut.
"Then you shall be allowed to taste something extra fine for once. See,
I lay two bars in the hot furnace fire. In three minutes they will be at
white heat, and you shall creep into the furnace and eat of them
hot,--fresh cooked!"
"Thank you very much," said Knut. "But give me rather a bit of bread and
a bowl of sour milk."
"Oh, come now! You don't know what is good! Get into the furnace there.
Be quick! The iron is red hot already."
"I believe you!" said Knut. "It is almost too hot for me."
"What nonsense!" growled the old troll. And he tried with all his might
to thrust Knut into the furnace.
But the one who took to his heels at that instant was Knut. He ran for
dear life, was lucky enough to find the outside door and was soon again
on the forest path.
"Grandmother was right," thought Knut. "I really must hear myself the
Catechism and keep my mind on it."
While Knut was thinking of one of the long explanations following the
oft-recurring question, "What does that mean?" he suddenly felt very
cold. The cause was soon evident, for behold! although it was summer,
there, at a turn in the path, stood a snow mountain!
"This is remarkable," thought Knut. "How does any one here ever get warm
food?"
With these words he climbed up on the snow, Catechism forgotten and
thoughts of food uppermost in his mind; and at once he tumbled down
into a deep hole, and found himself in a magnificent palace of
glittering ice. Starlight and moonlight illuminated it. All the great
rooms were ornamented with shining ice-mirrors, all the floors were
strewn with diamonds of hoar frost. Clumsy snow men rolled about on
their stomachs over the floor. Presently one stood upright. He was a
long-bodied stiff creature, with icicles in his hair, icicles in his
beard, a robe of thin sheet-ice, and shoes of frozen berry-juice.
"Good-day, Knut Spelevink," said the Snow King. "Why do you look so
poorly to-day?"
"Why shouldn't I look poorly when I have had nothing but Catechism and
bar iron to eat since yesterday noon?" said Knut with chattering teeth.
"You are too hot, young man, you are too hot,--that is what is the
matter with you. I am the Snow King and I bring up all my subjects to be
ice-clad--turn them into regular lumps of ice,--and I will do the same
for you. Chief Officer of the Snow Knights, dip this boy seven times in
ice-cold water, hang him on a hook and let him freeze."
"No,--thank you,--wait a little," suggested Knut. "Give me instead a mug
of hot posset. I am already a lump of ice!"
"Chief Officer of the Snow Knights, give him a bit of frozen
quicksilver, and a mug of chipped ice before you dip him," ordered the
Snow King.
Knut wanted to run away but it was already too late. The Chief Officer
had grabbed him by the collar, and it would have been all over with Knut
if he had not chanced to get hold of his magic pipe. Knowing that there
was not another thing he could do to try to save himself but to blow on
his pipe, blow he did, right lustily; and this time the sound was
_pu_, _pu_.
Instantly the long-bodied troll's features were distorted by a grin that
should have represented merriment, but he was far from merry. He was
boiling with rage over the resistless desire to laugh that unexpectedly
took possession of him. He laughed and laughed; yes, he laughed so
hard that the icicles fell from his hair and chin, his knees doubled
under him, and at last his very head burst into bits! All the snow men
laughed so violently that they, too, fell to pieces; the Chief Officer
sank to the floor, becoming only a pool of mushy, dirty water. The
ice-mirrors broke into small fragments and the whole palace changed into
a wild whirl of snow!
[Illustration: "GOOD-DAY, KNUT SPELEVINK," SAID THE SNOW KING.--_Page 25_.]
Knut himself was so overcome by laughter that it was only by the
strongest effort he could hold his lips together on the pipe and keep on
blowing.
While the snow still whirled about him, he suddenly noticed that he was
again upon the forest path. And lo! the next instant the air cleared,
the last of the snow disappeared in swift-running streams, and summer,
high summer, ruled once more.
"Now I _will_ look out for myself," thought Knut as he tramped steadily
forward; and he began again to pick out from his memory an answer to
the question, "What does that mean?"
He had not walked far before he found himself beside the most beautiful
little wooded hill, where strawberries gleamed red all through the
grass. It could not be dangerous to pick a few strawberries to eat, when
one was not to have dinner until four o'clock in the afternoon, thought
hungry Knut; and he climbed a little way up the hill.
No sooner was he there than he saw that what he had taken for
strawberries was nothing else than many thousand charming little elves
in red clothing. They were no taller than a strawberry stem, and were
dancing merrily around a green hillock upon which sat their queen who
was about three inches tall.
"Good-day, Knut Spelevink," said the elf-queen. "Why do you look so
poorly to-day?"
"Why shouldn't I look poorly when I have had nothing to eat since
yesterday noon except Catechism and bar iron and frozen quicksilver? I
thought that you people were strawberries."
"Poor thing, he is hungry," said the queen to her lady-in-waiting. "Give
him a dewdrop and the leg of a gnat so that he may for once eat until he
is really satisfied."
"Thank you very much," answered Knut. "But might I perhaps have a dish
of berries and a pail of milk instead?"
"What coarseness!" said the elf-queen, highly disgusted with such a
gluttonous appetite. "Do you know, you human child, that you came into
our kingdom without a pass, and that you trod to death three and thirty
of our faithful subjects so that there is nothing left of them but a red
stain? And you have refused our gracious offer of food and shown
yourself to be disgustingly greedy, besides. Forest spinners of our
court, do your duty."
Scarcely were the words spoken before a legion of long-legged spiders
swung down from the trees and began to spin around Knut a network of
countless fine threads. Knut did not relish this, and thought it a very
poor joke. He beat away the webspinners, and tried to return to the
forest path, but could not stir from the spot. His feet were tangled in
an all too strong net, his arms were glued to his sides, his eyes even
were plastered shut, and at last down he fell in the grass.
He could see nothing but he could hear how the whole hill rang with
laughter; the elves formed a ring around him, danced over him, nipped
him on the cheeks like gnats, and were beside themselves with joy over
their comical trick.
"Lie there and starve until you can be satisfied with a dewdrop and a
gnat leg," said the elves.
Knut fell to pleading with them. "Listen now, little elves," said he. "I
shall be content if I may bite on a small piece of reed I have in my
jacket pocket. Will not some of you be so good as to stick it into my
mouth?"
The elves thought it would be inexpressibly amusing to see this greedy
human child eat a piece of reed; so four of them climbed into his jacket
pocket and with their united strength drew forth the magic pipe, which,
with great effort, they succeeded in putting into his mouth. Thereupon
they danced more merrily than ever around and over him, and the hill
resounded with their delicate laughter. It was like the humming of a
million swarms of gnats.
Knut no sooner felt the pipe between his lips than he began to blow; and
this time the tone was _py_, _py_. At once the merry laughter came
to an end, and sobbing was heard from every direction,--a sound as of a
hundred thousand sobbing together, not unlike what one hears in summer
when the beating rain lashes the hill.
Knut could not see, but he knew that the elves were crying and he felt
that it was a sin, no matter what they had done, to make such merry
creatures sob so grievously.
"Set me free and you shall laugh again," said Knut to the weeping elves.
Now it is the elves' greatest joy to laugh. Indeed, they laugh away
their short lives in the summer evenings knowing nothing of sorrow.
At Knut's words, hundreds of elves began immediately to chase away the
spiders, and to set free the prisoner, loosening his arms and his legs,
and unplastering his eyelids. Knut could now see his tiny enemies and
his anger rose again, so that he blew _py_ once more. Oh, how the
poor little creatures grimaced and trembled! They wished so much to
laugh and yet they must weep because of that frightful _py_!
Knut had not the heart to tease them any longer. He changed the note to
_pu_ and the elves became almost crazy with joy. They leaped so high
in the air that they nearly overtook the larks, and as they came down,
some of them alighted upon Knut and he had to shake them off. He did not
notice that one elf had fallen into his pocket and remained there.
"Good-bye, little elves," said Knut as he hastily set off again on his
way through the forest.
"I must watch out well for that other troll, the Forest King," thought
Knut. "He is said to be the worst of all. Where was I in the Catechism?
Oh, yes. 'What does that mean?'"
After a while Knut came to a swamp at the roadside where cloudberries
grew in profusion.
"It can't be wrong to pick a few of these berries as I pass by, since I
sha'n't have any food until four o'clock this afternoon," thought Knut.
To reach the swamp he had to climb over a huge fallen pine-tree, which
lay in the way. Scarcely did he find himself clambering across its
gnarly trunk and thick close branches than the pine-tree, to Knut's
great fright, raised itself high in air, and roared with a gruff voice:
"Good-day, Knut Spelevink. Why do you look so poorly to-day?"
Knut, hanging over the road in the pine-tree's top, still found courage
to answer:
"Why shouldn't I look poorly when I have had nothing to eat since
yesterday noon except Catechism, and bar iron, and frozen quicksilver
and a gnat's leg?"
"Well, why did you interrupt my midday nap?" asked the pine-tree. "Don't
you know that I am the King of the Forest and rule over all the trees
and swamps for seven times seven miles around! Here you see my palace.
Haven't I a fine place to live in?"
Knut saw nothing but a bleak wilderness, so did not answer the question
but ventured to inquire most humbly if he might not get down and pick
some cloudberries to eat.
"What is that? Cloudberries?" roared the Forest King. "Take a fir-tree
for a ladle and ladle into yourself seven cartloads of swamp mud. That
is what I call a regular meal. It is my favorite food."
"Perhaps you would give me one load of apple marmalade, and a moderately
big ditch full of wild honey instead!" suggested merry Knut.
"Apple marmalade? Humph! I shall make marmalade of you for disturbing me
in my nap. My Lord Eagle, I give the boy to you. You can tear him into
Scotch collops for your young ones."
[Illustration: THE PINE-TREE RAISED ITSELF HIGH IN AIR.--_Page 31_.]
Knut now became aware of an enormous eagle sitting in the top of the
tree and staring at him with ravenous eyes. He could not jump down, for
the pine-tree held him fast by his arms and legs. He should soon be torn
into Scotch collops.
Knut Spelevink had never eaten collops, but however much he liked food,
it seemed unbearable that he himself should become food for eagles.
The situation was indeed dangerous, but at this critical moment Knut
felt something light as a flower creeping up his arm, up to his jacket
collar, then to his chin and finally to his mouth. It was the little elf
that had hidden in Knut's pocket, and was now creeping along and, with
incredible difficulty, dragging after him the magic pipe which was seven
times as long as himself.
"Blow!" said the elf.
Knut felt the pipe in his mouth and began to blow with a will. This time
the tone was again _pa_.
The Forest King yawned, stretched out his branches, and mumbled
something about having been disturbed in his midday nap. Then he threw
himself down at full length beside the swamp, and in his fall crushed
beneath his huge trunk the big ravenous eagle which the magic pipe had
made too drowsy to fly away.
As Knut crept from among the branches, he heard a snoring through the
forest as loud as if a hundred bears were growling their best for a
wager; and he again took to his heels as nimbly as he could.
"I must certainly look out," thought Knut. "It is indeed dangerous here
in the forest."
Without stopping for cloudberries or anything else, he continued to run
and run while he could, but it was not easy, and by and by he had to
walk slowly for the path was almost overgrown. The bramble-bushes seemed
to have a spite against his trousers, tree branches caught hold of his
jacket, and clung fast to it; the heather and the twigs of the
blueberry-bushes pricked his bare feet But to The Ridge he meant to get
and to The Ridge he did get without further adventure, arriving,--tired,
hungry and blowsy,--at precisely four o'clock in the afternoon.
"Welcome, Knut Spelevink," said Mr. Peterman. "You look right cheerful
this afternoon!"
"Why shouldn't I look cheerful when I have been offered feasts of hot
bar iron, frozen quicksilver, a dewdrop and a gnat's leg, and seven
cartloads of mud?" laughed Knut.
"Why, that is a good many courses for one day," said Mr. Peterman. "One
ought not to think much about food. When any one constantly thinks of
what he can get to eat, he is in danger of encountering trolls and such
like, who only fool him. But perhaps you are hungry, my boy?"
Knut blinked in embarrassment, squeezed his cap between his hands and
said that he was not yet exactly starved to death.
"Now that rejoices me!" exclaimed Mr. Peterman. "I ate a late breakfast
and the servants have not yet had time to pluck all the birds. You just
wait until eight o'clock and then you shall have some supper."
This was worse than hot bar iron and seven cartloads of mud, Knut
thought; but he bit his nails and answered that he could wait, of
course, adding to himself, however, "I had better say the Catechism over
again to pass the time."
Now this Mr. Peterman was a great joker and was only teasing Knut. He
had himself been a poor boy and knew well enough what it meant, when
famished, to wait four hours more for food.
"Knut Spelevink," said he, "I perceive that you can do more than think
about things to eat. Do you realize that conquering one's self and being
able to give up, even to the very necessities of life, what one craves
here in this world is a kind of heroism? You can conquer yourself like a
hero and keep your merry humor through everything. I like you, my boy,
and I am sure you will make a fine man if you have enough to eat and go
to school as I mean you shall; for I am going to look after you from
this time on.
"But what does that mean?" continued Mr. Peterman, sniffing. "It seems
to me I smell roast bird! Walk in, my boy. You shall sit with me, at my
own table, and for once in your life eat all you want."
When Mr. Peterman said "What does that mean?" Knut thought it sounded as
if catechising were going to begin; but the door to the dining-room was
thrown open at that moment, and there stood a dinner-table laden with
smoking-hot savory food awaiting the hungry guests.
Mr. Peterman led Knut in by the hand and Knut sat at the table like a
lord; and there he might have been sitting yet if he had not long since
carried home the promised piece of cheese to his grandmother, and been
sent to school.
As for the magic pipe, he had used that three times and once more, and
it had served him well in Kiikkala Forest; but try as he might he could
never again get the magic tones from it, and one day he lost it. The
Catechism, however, stayed in his mind, and Knut could recite it from
end to end any time he was asked.
--_Z. Topelius_.
[1] Pronounced K'nut Spa-le-veenk.
[2] "Spelevink" may be translated "Merrymouth."
[Illustration]
THE PRINCESS LINDAGULL[3]
_Come, boys and girls, let us fly on the wings of the wind to the land
of a thousand tales, to the home of roses and tulips! to the land where
beautiful fairies build their castles in the red sunrise, and black
gnomes flit around in the darkness of midnight; where the sun shines
like fire over the blue mountains in Afghanistan, and the quiet
water-lilies are reflected in the deep lakes; where tigers' eyes gleam
between the reeds by the shore, and where sun-browned, dark-eyed people
glow with hate and burn with love. Let us fly to Persia!_
CHAPTER I
THE PALACE OF SHAH NADIR
There was once a Persian king whose name was Shah Nadir, and who was
exceedingly rich. Large and beautiful countries with many millions of
people were under his sway. Great rooms in his palace were filled with
gold and precious stones; and his ships, laden with the riches of India,
sailed over every sea. When he appeared in his capital city, Ispahan, he
was surrounded by a life guard of a thousand men dressed in silver armor
which glistened in the sun; and fifty thousand knights on most beautiful
horses, with golden saddles and harnesses glittering with jewels, stood
ready to speed away and conquer the world at his bidding.
But the mighty Shah Nadir was old and had no longer any desire for war
and conquest. He had won many battles; many hostile cities had perished
in ashes before his wrath; and many, many a knight had been pierced
through by his sword in the days when his arm was young and none could
withstand him.
But now he was old and weary, and liked best to recline on the luxurious
purple divans of his gorgeous palace. Occasionally, however, when
golden-edged clouds shielded the burning Persian sun, and a delightful
breeze blew down from Mt. Zagrosch, the old Shah would seat himself in
his richly ornamented palanquin borne by eight black slaves clad in
silver tissue, and allow himself to be carried out that he might review
his troops or watch the wild animals fighting in the arena.
Shah Nadir had many sons, because he had also many wives, as is the
custom in eastern lands; but his sons brought him little joy. They were
thankless and full of selfish ambition, thinking that their father lived
too long, and plotting against his life and his throne. Therefore the
king drove them all away from his court to distant provinces which they
ruled over as viceroys. But he kept at home with himself his dear and
only daughter, the Princess Lindagull, because he loved her more than
all else on earth,--yes, more than all his treasures and all his riches.
Now it is well known that such a name as "Lindagull" had never before
been heard in Persia, nor could it indeed be rightly pronounced by the
Persians. The mother of the princess had come from the far North, no one
knew exactly whence. She had been captured in her youth by African
pirates, and after many adventures had been sold to the king of Persia,
who, on account of her extreme beauty, took her in wedlock and loved her
more than all his other wives.
This beautiful sultana, who was now dead, had called her only daughter
"Lindagull," signifying that the princess was as lovely and pure as the
gold of the sun, shimmering through the lindens of the North.
And it is true that a more beautiful or purer being could not be found
if you searched the wide world over than the Princess Lindagull. She had
the royal bearing of her father; but in form and disposition she was
like her mother. With a complexion as dazzling as Scandinavian snow and
eyes as soft as August stars on a moonless night, she had also a heart
noble, tender and good; and so there was no one in Shah Nadir's whole
kingdom who did not love the Princess Lindagull; for the fame of her
beauty and goodness had spread through all Persia. This the old king
knew full well, and his proud heart melted like wax every time he looked
upon his lovely child. She was the delight of his eyes;--his comfort by
day, his dream by night. One word of hers could quell his highest rage.
He could not refuse her any request, even to the freedom of a slave.
When Shah Nadir thought upon his sons with their evil hearts, and of the
trouble which they had made in the kingdom, he decided that none of them
was fit for succession to his throne; and he made up his mind to choose
for his daughter some good and noble man as a husband, and to leave to
her and her descendants the inheritance of his riches and his kingdom.
The fatherly affection of Shah Nadir for the Princess Lindagull was
right and beautiful; but he fell into the great error of allowing it to
displace other loves and to lead him away from his duties to his
subjects. So a heavy punishment came upon him.
* * * * *
No one could live in a more magnificent and delightful manner than did
the Princess Lindagull. In a cool grove, under the shadow of high
palm-trees, amid the music of rippling fountains and surrounded by the
fragrance of a thousand flowers, stood the princess's lovely castle. In
its lofty apartments the sunbeams broke through windows of limpid
rock-crystal. The princess rested on the most elegant couch at night;
and when morning came she was led by her attendant ladies to bathe in a
grand basin of mother-of-pearl into which a fountain poured forth its
waters and made a deep pool, the water playfully rippling around her
delicate figure as she bathed.
In the daytime she wrought exquisite embroideries with her maidens, or
listened to the songs of the birds or the music of the zither, or
wandered in the grove, playing like a child with the yellow butterflies
and dark red roses.
The Princess Lindagull was not more than twelve years old; but in the
Eastern countries twelve years makes one appear as old as sixteen in
Northern countries.
It is not a good thing to live constantly in luxury, and to see one's
wishes fulfilled "at the least wink" as were those of Princess
Lindagull. Many persons become proud and wilful under these
circumstances; but this little princess did not. She merely became
low-spirited. She did not know why it was, but the playing of the
butterflies, the fragrance of the flowers, the rippling of the waters,
and the zither's sweet sounds pleased her no more. She realized that her
heart was often empty, and noticed with surprise that she often had a
desire to weep. She could not understand it at all, and still less could
her ladies. She did not know, this little Lindagull, that as a dark
frame enhances many a picture, so trial and sorrow give one's happy days
an added luster. With pleasures and naught but pleasures in her life,
happiness was slipping from her. She must experience sorrow before she
could know true joy.
Nevertheless, the princess believed that she had discovered the reason
of her longings. It must be because she had always lived in the
seclusion of her palace. She determined to go out, at least for once,
into the rush and whirl of human life; and so, when her father next came
to visit her, she asked that she might be allowed to see the great
exhibition of wild beasts soon to be held at Ispahan in honor of the
king's sixtieth birthday. Since Shah Nadir could refuse her nothing, he
granted her request; realizing, however, that it was the first time he
had ever done so with absolute unwillingness.
* * * * *
Such a conqueror as Shah Nadir, to whom half Asia paid tribute, could
not fail to have many enemies. This, however, troubled him but little,
because he had long held them in complete subjection.
One of these enemies had fallen under the personal dislike of the king;
and in addition to the usual ceremonies of submission Shah Nadir had
required the captive foe to suffer one of the greatest indignities of
the East,--that is, the shaving of his beard. Having thus contributed to
the king's vindictive amusement, the captive was set free.
[Illustration: SINCE SHAH NADIR COULD REFUSE HER NOTHING, HE GRANTED HER
REQUEST.--_Page 43_.]
This man was king of the giants in Turan (that vast, wild region of rock
and desert north of Persia) and his name was Bom Bali. Once, when
warring in the far, far North, Bom Bali had captured a wizard named
Hirmu who could change himself into any animal whatever, and afterward
resume his own natural shape.
Now when Bom Bali learned through his spies that a grand exhibition of
wild beasts was to be held in Ispahan, he summoned Hirmu into his
presence and said to him:
"Dog, dost thou wish to live?"
Hirmu answered, "My lord, may thy beard never grow less! Thou knowest
that thy dog desires greatly to live."
Bom Bali said, "The first day of the month Moharrem there is to be an
exhibition of wild beasts in Ispahan. Shah Nadir has sent his hunters
into every mountain, even to mountains in our kingdom, to ensnare
fierce creatures for the contests. Take upon thyself the form of a
tiger. Be thou captured by the hunters. Steal and bring back to me the
Princess Lindagull who is the pride of Shah Nadir and of all Asia."
"Thy hound shall fulfil all thy commands," said the Lappish wizard.
Soon after this conversation, the Persian hunters came to Turan,
captured alive all the wild beasts they could from its mountains and
deserts, and carried them in strong cages back to Ispahan.
[3] Pronounced Lin'dah-gool.