the Ocean Kingdom. She has three daughters; it is the youngest who has
the golden hair, and is called Zlato-Vlaska. Now you must first go to
the queen and ask her to give you one of her daughters in marriage. If
she takes kindly to your proposal she will bid you choose, and mind
you take that princess who is the most plainly dressed."
The queen received him most graciously, and when he explained the
object of his visit she led him into a room where the three daughters
were spinning.
They were so much alike that no one could possibly distinguish one
from the other, and they were all so marvellously lovely that when the
young prince looked upon them he dared hardly breathe. Their hair was
carefully covered by a veil through which one could not distinguish
the colour of it, but their dresses were different. The first wore a
gown and veil embroidered with gold, and used a golden distaff; the
second had on a gown embroidered with silver and held a distaff of the
same metal; the third wore a gown and veil of dazzling whiteness, and
her distaff was made of wood.
The mother bade the prince choose, whereupon he pointed to the maiden
clothed in white, saying, "Give me this one to wife."
"Ah," said the queen, "some one has been letting you into the secret:
but wait a little, we shall meet again to-morrow."
All that night the prince lay awake, wondering how he should manage
not to make a mistake on the morrow. At dawn he was already at the
palace gates, which he had hardly entered when the princess clothed in
white chanced to pass: it was Zlato-Vlaska, and she had come to meet
him.
"If it is your wish to choose me again to-day," she said, "observe
carefully, and take the maiden around whose head buzzes a small fly."
In the afternoon the queen took the prince into a room where her three
daughters sat, and said: "If among these princesses you recognise the
one you chose yesterday she shall be yours; if not, you must die."
The young girls stood side by side, dressed alike in costly robes, and
all had golden hair. The prince was puzzled, and their beauty and
splendour dazzled him. For some time he could hardly see distinctly;
then, all of a sudden, a small fly buzzed over the head of one of the
princesses.
"This is the maiden who belongs to me," cried he, "and whom I chose
yesterday."
The queen, astonished that he should have guessed correctly, said,
"Quite right, but I cannot let you have her until you have submitted
to another trial, which shall be explained to you to-morrow."
On the morrow she pointed out to him a large fish-pond which lay in
the forest, and giving him a small golden sieve, said: "If with this
sieve you can, before sunset, empty that fish-pond yonder, I will give
you my daughter with the golden hair, but if you fail you will lose
your life."
The prince took the sieve, and, going down to the pond, plunged it in
to try his luck; but no sooner had he lifted it up than all the water
ran out through the holes--not a drop was left behind. Not knowing
what to do, he sat down on the bank with the sieve in his hand,
wondering in what possible way the difficulty might be overcome.
"Why are you so sad?" asked the maiden in white, as she came towards
him.
"Because I fear you will never be mine," sighed he; "your mother has
given me an impossible task."
"Come, cheer up, away with fear; it will all be right in the end."
Thereupon she took the sieve and threw it into the fishpond. Instantly
the water turned to foam on the surface, and a thick vapour rose up,
which fell in a fog so dense that nothing could be seen through it.
Then the prince heard footsteps, and turning round saw his horse
coming towards him, with his bridle down and the red fox at his side.
"Mount quickly," said the horse, "there is not a moment to lose; lift
the maiden in front of you."
The faithful steed flew like an arrow, and sped rapidly along over the
road that had been recently cleared by the bushy tail of the red fox.
But this time, instead of leading, the red fox followed, his tail
working marvels as he went: it destroyed the bridges, reopened the
ravines, raised high mountains, and in fact put back everything as it
used to be.
[Illustration]
The prince felt very happy as he rode along, holding the Princess with
the Golden Hair, but it saddened him much to think he would have to
give up all thought of marrying her himself, and that within a few
short hours he must leave her with the king of the silver palace: the
nearer he came to it, the more wretched he grew. The red fox, who
noticed this, said: "It appears to me that you do not want to exchange
the lovely Zlato-Vlaska for the Horse with the Golden Mane: is it not
so? Well, I have helped you so far, I will see what I can do for you
now."
And having thus spoken he turned a somersault over the stump of a
fallen tree which lay in the forest: while, to the prince's amazement,
he was immediately transformed into a young girl exactly resembling
the Princess with the Golden Hair.
"Now, leave your real bride in the forest," said the transformed fox,
"and take me with you to offer to the king of the silver palace in
exchange for his horse Zlato-Nrivak. Mount the horse, return here, and
escape with the maid you love; I will manage the rest."
The king of the silver castle received the maiden without the least
suspicion, and handed over in exchange the Horse with the Golden Mane,
over whose back lay the bejewelled bridle. The prince left at once.
At the palace all were busy preparing the wedding feast, for the
marriage was to take place immediately, and everything was to be of
the most costly description. Invitations had been out to all the
grandees of the land.
Towards the end of the feast, when every one had drunk his fill of
wine and pleasure, the king asked his guests their opinions on the
charms of his bride.
"She is most beautiful," said one, "in fact, it would be impossible
for her to be more lovely; only, it seems to me that her eyes are
somewhat like those of a fox."
The words were hardly out of his mouth when the royal bride vanished,
while in her place sat a red fox, who with one vigorous bound sprang
through the door and disappeared to rejoin the prince, who had
hastened on in front. With sweeping strokes of his bushy tail he
overthrew bridges, reopened precipices, and heaped up mountains; but
it was very hard work for the poor thing, and he did not come up with
the runaways until they had almost reached the copper castle. Here
they all had a rest, while the red fox turned a somersault and
transformed himself into a horse resembling the one with the golden
mane. Then the prince entered the copper castle and exchanged the
transformed fox for the fire-bird Ohnivak, the king having no
suspicions whatever. The red fox, having thus deceived the monarch,
reassumed his own shape and hurried after the departing prince, whom
he did not overtake until they had reached the banks of the river
where they had first become acquainted.
"Now here you are, prince," said the red fox, "in possession of
Ohnivak, of the lovely Zlato-Vlaska, and of the Horse with the Golden
Mane. Henceforth you can manage without my help, so return to your
father's house in peace and joy; but, take warning, do not stop
anywhere on the way, for if you do some misfortune will overtake you."
With these words the red fox vanished, while the prince continued his
journey unhindered. In his hand he held the golden cage that contained
the fire-bird, and at his side the lovely Zlato-Vlaska rode the Horse
with the Golden Mane; truly, he was the happiest of men.
When he reached the cross roads where he had parted from his brothers,
he hastened to look for the branches they had planted. His alone had
become a spreading tree, theirs were both withered. Delighted with
this proof of divine favour, he felt a strong desire to rest for a
while under the shadow of his own tree; he therefore dismounted, and
assisting the princess to do the same, fastened their horses to one of
the branches and hung up the cage containing Ohnivak on another:
within a few moments they were all sound asleep.
Meanwhile the two elder brothers arrived at the same place by
different roads, and both with empty hands. There they found their two
branches withered, that of their brother having grown into a splendid
tree. Under the shade of the latter he lay sleeping; by his side was
the Maid with the Golden Locks; the horse, Zlato-Nrivak, was fastened
to a tree, and the fire-bird roosted in his golden cage.
The hearts of the two brothers were filled with envious and wicked
thoughts, and they whispered thus to one another, "Just think what
will become of us--the youngest will receive half of the kingdom
during our father's life and succeed to the throne at his death; why
not cut his throat at once? One of us will take the Maid with the
Golden Locks, the other can carry the bird to our father and keep the
Horse with the Golden Mane; as for the kingdom, we will divide it
between us."
After this debate they killed their youngest brother and cut up his
body into small pieces, while they threatened to treat Zlato-Vlaska in
the same way if she attempted to disobey them.
On reaching home they sent the Horse with the Golden Mane to the
marble stables, the cage containing Ohnivak was placed in the room
where their father lay sick, and the princess was allowed a beautiful
suite of apartments and maids of honour to attend her.
When the king, who was much weakened by suffering, had looked at the
bird, he asked after his youngest son. To which the brothers replied:
"We have not seen or heard anything of him, it is very likely that he
has been killed."
The poor old man was much affected--it seemed, indeed, as if his last
hour had come. The fire-bird moped and refused to sing; the Horse with
the Golden Mane stood with his head bent down before his manger, and
would eat no food; while Princess Zlato-Vlaska remained as silent as
if she had been born dumb, her beautiful hair was neglected and
uncombed, and she wept--her tears fell fast.
Now as the red fox chanced to pass through the forest he came upon the
mangled body of the youngest brother, and he at once set to work to
put the scattered pieces together, but was unable to restore them to
life. At that moment a raven, accompanied by two young ones, came
hovering overhead. The fox crouched behind a bramble bush; and when
one of the young birds alighted upon the body to feed, he seized it
and made a pretence of strangling it. Upon which the parent bird, full
of anxious love and fear, perched upon a branch close by and croaked
as if to say, "Let my poor little nestling go. I have done you no
harm, neither have I worried you; let him free, and I will take the
first opportunity of returning your kindness."
"Just so," replied the red fox, "for I am greatly in need of some
kindness. Now if you will fetch me some of the Water of Death, and
some of the Water of Life, from the Red Sea, I will let your nestling
go safe and sound."
The old raven promised to fetch the water, and went off at once.
Within three days he returned, carrying in his beak two small bottles,
one full of the Water of Death, the other of the Water of Life. When
the red fox received them he wished first to try their effect upon
some living creature, so he cut the small raven up, and joining the
pieces together, watered them with the Water of Death. Instantly they
became a living bird, without mark or join anywhere. This he sprinkled
with the Water of Life, upon which the young raven spread its wings
and flew off to its family.
The red fox then performed the same operation on the body of the young
prince, and with the same happy result, for he rose again perfect in
form, and having about him no wound scars. On coming to life again,
all he said was, "Dear me! What a pleasant sleep I have had."
"I believe you," replied the red fox, "you would have gone on sleeping
for ever if I had not awakened you. And what a foolish young man you
are: did I not particularly order you not to stop anywhere, but to go
straight back to your father's house?"
He then related all that his brothers had done, and having obtained a
peasant's dress for him, led him to the outskirts of the forest, close
to the royal palace, where he left him.
The young prince then entered the palace grounds, unrecognised by the
servants, and on representing that he was in need of employment, was
appointed stable-boy to the royal stables. Some little time after he
heard the grooms lamenting that the Horse with the Golden Mane would
eat no food.
"What a pity it is," said they, "that this splendid steed should
starve to death; he droops his head and will take nothing."
"Give him," said the disguised prince, "some pea-straw; I bet you
anything he will eat that."
"But do you really think so? Why, our rough draught horses would
refuse such coarse food."
The prince's only answer was to fetch a bundle of pea-straw, which he
put into Zlato-Nrivak's marble trough: then, passing his hand gently
over his neck and mane, he said to him, "Grieve no more, my horse with
the golden mane."
The beautiful creature recognised his master's voice, and neighing
with joy, greedily devoured the pea-straw.
The news was noised about from one end of the palace to the other, and
the sick king summoned the boy to his presence.
"I hear you have made Zlato-Nrivak eat," said his majesty; "do you
think you could make my fire-bird sing? Go and examine him closely: he
is very sad, he droops his wings, and will neither eat nor drink. Ah
me! if he dies I shall certainly die too."
"Your majesty may rest assured, the bird will not die. Let him have
some husks of barley to eat, then he will soon be all right and begin
to sing."
The king ordered them to be brought, and the disguised prince put a
handful into Ohnivak's cage, saying, "Cheer up, my fire-bird."
[Illustration]
As soon as Ohnivak heard his master's voice he shook himself, and made
his feathers shine with more than their usual brightness. Then he
began to dance about his cage, and pecking up the husks, sang so
exquisitely that the king immediately felt better, and it was as if a
great weight had been lifted off his heart. The fire-bird again burst
into song, and this so affected the king that he sat up quite well,
and embraced the disguised prince out of very gratitude.
"Now," said he, "teach me how to restore to health this beautiful
maiden with the golden hair whom my sons brought back with them; for
she will not speak a word, her beautiful hair remains uncared for, and
her tears fall night and day."
"If your majesty will allow me to speak a few words to her, it may be
the means of making her bright and happy."
The king himself led the way to her apartments, and the disguised
prince, taking her hand, said: "Look up a moment, sweetheart; why
these tears? And why grieve thus, dear bride?"
The maiden knew him at once, and with a cry of joy threw herself into
his arms. This astonished the king mightily, and he could not for the
life of him think how a stable-boy dare address such a princess as his
"dear bride."
The prince then addressed the king thus: "And are you indeed the only
one who does not know me? How is it, my father and sovereign, that you
have not recognised your youngest son? I alone have succeeded in
obtaining the Fire-Bird, the Horse with the Golden Mane, and the Maid
with the Golden Hair."
Thereupon he related all his adventures, and Zlato-Vlaska in her turn
told how the wicked brothers had threatened to kill her if she
betrayed them. As for these bad men, they shook from head to foot, and
trembled like leaves in the wind. The indignant king ordered them to
be executed then and there.
Not very long after these events the youngest prince married the
beautiful Zlato-Vlaska, and the king gave him half of his kingdom as a
wedding present. When the old king died he reigned in his stead, and
lived happily with the princess ever after.
TEARS OF PEARLS
[Illustration]
TEARS OF PEARLS
Once upon a time there lived a very rich widow, with whom lived three
children--a handsome stepson; his sister, who was marvellously
beautiful; and her own daughter, passably good-looking.
All three children lived under the same roof, but, as is often the
case where there are step-parents, they were treated very differently.
The lady's own daughter was bad-tempered, disobedient, vain, and of a
tell-tale disposition: yet she was made much of, praised, and
caressed. The step-children were treated very harshly: the boy,
kind-hearted and obliging, was made to do all sorts of hard unpleasant
work, was constantly scolded, and looked upon as a good-for-nothing.
The step-daughter, who was not only exceedingly pretty but was as
sweet as an angel, was found fault with on all occasions, and her life
made utterly miserable.
It is, after all, but natural to love one's own children better than
those of others, but the feeling of love should be governed by the
laws of fairness. Now this wicked woman was blind to the faults of the
child she loved, and to the good qualities of her husband's children,
whom she hated.
When in a bad temper she was fond of boasting of the handsome fortune
she intended securing for her own daughter, even though the
step-children should be unprovided for. But, as the old proverb says,
"Man proposes, but God disposes." We shall therefore see how things
turned out.
One Sunday morning, before going to church, the step-daughter went
into the garden to pick some flowers for decorating the altar. She had
only gathered a few roses when, looking up, she saw quite close to her
three young men robed in dazzling white garments. They sat on a bench
shaded by shrubs, while near them was an old man who asked her for
alms.
She felt rather nervous before the strangers, but when she saw the old
man she took her last penny from her purse and gave it him. He thanked
her, and raising his hand over the girl's head, said to the men: "This
orphan girl is pious, patient under misfortune, and kind to the poor,
with whom she shares the little she has. Tell me what you wish for
her."
The first said, "I wish that when she weeps her tears may be changed
into so many pearls."
"And I," replied the second, "that when she smiles sweet roses may
fall from her lips."
"My wish," said the third, "is that whenever she dips her hands into
water there shall appear in it shining gold-fish."
"All these gifts shall be hers," added the old man. And with these
words they vanished.
The maiden was filled with awe, and fell on her knees in prayer. Then
her heart was filled with joy and peace, and she went back into the
house. She had scarcely crossed the threshold when her stepmother came
forward, and looking at her sternly, said, "Well, where have you
been?"
The poor child began to cry, when--marvel of marvels--instead of
tears, pearls fell from her eyes.
Notwithstanding her rage, the stepmother picked them up as quickly as
possible, while the girl smiled as she watched her. And as she smiled
roses fell from her lips, and her stepmother was beside herself with
delight.
The girl then went to put the flowers she had gathered in water; and
as she dipped her fingers in it while arranging them, pretty little
gold-fish appeared in the bowl.
From that day these marvels were constantly occurring; the tears were
changed into pearls, the smiles scattered roses, and the water, even
if she dipped but the tips of her fingers in, was filled with
gold-fish.
The stepmother softened and became more gentle, while little by little
she managed to draw from her step-child the secret of these gifts.
So next Sunday morning she sent her own daughter into the garden to
gather flowers, under pretence of their being for the altar. When she
had picked a few, she raised her eyes and saw the three young men
sitting on a low seat, while near them stood the little old man with
white hair, begging for alms. She pretended to be shy before the young
men, but at the beggar's request drew from her pocket a gold piece,
and gave it him, evidently much against her will. He put it in his
pocket, and turning to his companions, said: "This girl is the spoilt
child of her mother; she is bad-tempered and naughty, while her heart
is hardened against the poor. It is easy to understand why, for the
first time in her life, she has been so generous to-day. Tell me what
gifts you would wish me to bestow upon her."
The first said, "May her tears be changed into lizards."
"And her smile produce hideous toads," added the second.
"And when her hands touch the water may it be filled with serpents,"
said the third.
"So let it be," cried the old man. And they all vanished.
The poor girl was terrified, and went back to tell her mother what had
happened. And it was even so; for if she smiled hideous toads fell
from her mouth, her tears were changed into lizards, and the water in
which she dipped but the tips of her fingers was filled with serpents.
The stepmother was in despair, but she only loved her child the more,
and hated the orphans with a yet more bitter hatred. Indeed, she
worried them to such an extent that the boy determined to put up with
it no longer, but to seek his fortune elsewhere. So he tied up his
belongings in a handkerchief, took a loving farewell of his sister,
commending her to God's care, and left his home. The great world lay
before him, but which path to take he knew not. Turning to the
cemetery where his parents lay side by side, he wept and prayed,
kissed the earth that covered them three times, and set off on his
travels.
At that moment he felt something hard in the folds of his tunic, and
pressing on his heart. Wondering what it could be, he put in his hand
and drew thence a charming portrait of his dearly loved sister,
surrounded with pearls, roses, and gold-fish. So great was his
astonishment he could hardly believe his eyes. But he was very happy,
and kissed the picture over and over again; then, with one more look
at the cemetery, he made the sign of the cross and departed.
Now a beautiful story is soon told, but the acts of which it is the
sum pass more slowly.
After many adventures of little importance he reached the capital of a
kingdom by the sea, and there obtained the post of under-gardener at
the royal palace, with good food and wages.
In his prosperity he did not forget his unhappy sister, for he felt
very uneasy about her. When he had a few moments to himself he would
sit down in some retired spot and gaze upon her portrait with a sad
heart and eyes filled with tears. For the picture was a faithful
likeness of her, and he looked upon it as a gift from his parents.
Now the king had noticed this habit of his, and one day while he sat
by a stream looking at the picture he came quietly behind him, and
glanced over his shoulder to see what he was so attentively regarding.
"Give me that portrait," said the monarch.
The boy handed it him. The king examined it closely, and admiring it
greatly, said: "I have never seen such a beautiful face in all my
life, never even dreamed of such loveliness. Come, tell me, is the
original of the picture living?"
The lad burst into tears, and told him it was the living image of his
sister, who a short time since had received as a special mark of
favour from God, that her tears should be changed into pearls, her
smiles into roses, and the touch of her hands in water should produce
beautiful gold-fish.
The king commanded him to write to his stepmother at once and bid her
send her lovely step-daughter to the chapel of the palace, where the
king would be waiting to marry her. The letter also contained promises
of special royal favours.
The lad wrote the letter, which the king sent by a special messenger.
Now a good story is soon told, but the deeds of which it is the sum
are not performed so quickly.